Cupid

Peaches?

And then you woke up?

Yeah.

I mean, at least it was one of the last violence ones.

I'm just such a coward.

Dr. McCrae...

You've done two tours of duty in Iraq.

and nothing you are going trough, the survival guilt,

the grieve, the loss, the nightmares makes you any less brave.

Brave?

A brave man would have send this letters.

I think writting those letters was more important than sending them.

They reminded you that there was life outside the war.

And you are free to live that life now.

You need to try and move on.

Yeah.

- What are you doing? - Moving on.

You can't really light symbolic fires here.

Trevor, have you seen the dogs in...

What are you doing?

Nothing. Reading.

I found these letters written by...

this soldier.

Are you crying?

No. I might have... yawned.

- Into some tissue. - You know, some people sneeze, Felix.

Yeah, and some people read letters...

and cry on their roommate's dogs and listen to soft rock 87.

Why is a soldier writing you letters?

They're not to me.

There's this girl that he loves,

but he doesn't know he loves her,

because he doesn't realize it...

until he's in the middle of this war.

And the only thing that keeps him going...

are his memories of his beloved Peaches.

Don't worry, Joe.

I'll get your Peaches for you, pal.

I'll get your peaches!

Subtítulos por: CupidTeam

Traductores: iris_alicante, Aremsi, Seta, Syd15

Revisor: Syd15

So this girl that you're trying to reunite with soldier boy...

is "peaches" her stripper name?

That's Joe's nickname for her. Her name is Robin Peachtree.

They were next-door neighbors in high school.

They'd shoot hoops in the driveway,

'cause he was crazy about her. Joe worked up his nerve,

asked peaches to the homecoming dance.

And she says "yes," and then he finds out...

it's just because of a bet she made with the popular kids.

No. She said "yes,"

and then the army restationed Joe's dad to New Jersey.

They left Baton Rouge two days later.

- Never got to go to the dance. - No makeover dance montage.

Nope. They lost touch. Later, Joe gets sent to Iraq.

All of a sudden he's in the middle of this war,

bullets whizzing by. Guess who he thinks about.

Jane Russell.

Betty Grable.

- Robin Peachtree. - Right.

This girl he hadn't seen or talked to in years.

When his life was on the line, that's who he thought about.

He writes her these letters that he never sends.

Instead... he gave them to you.

Yeah, well, sort of.

He was throwing them out, and I sort of recycled them.

I got 100 matches to make.

This, mi amigo, is low-hanging fruit.

It's a federal offense to read other people's mail.

Amigo.

Like that applies to me.

If you're driving through Baton Rouge,

be sure to pull over at Robin's nest.

Owner Robin Peachtree, 26. That's the right age.

Why would Cupid need magic arrows...

when he's got google?

Don't miss the crab cornbread fritters.

Robin's nest-cajun cookin' and caterin' company.

She does catering.

Anything I do to try to get her attention...

uh, backfires.

You have to be smart about your romantic pursuits.

If you feel the need to scheme to get someone's attention,

chances are you're overreaching.

Exactly. So there's this dance that we're chaperoning,

and I was thinking that my safest bet...

was to bring a hot date,

convince her that I am a commodity.

Were you listening to me at all?

I was. Couldn't agree less.

You, however, Sir kindred, simpatico, paisan.

Trevor, do you have a question?

Suggestion? Yes, I do, Thank you for asking.

Maybe more singles' group festivities,

less self-help talkie talk.

This thing you call "talkie talk"...

is what this group is for, Trevor.

Currently, yes. It's for listening to you talk...

while scanning the room for somebody to sleep with.

People come here for advice, to commiserate,

share stories.

In bed, with someone they met at singles' group.

That's not true.

People come here because you've conveniently wrangled...

a collection of local availables into a group.

That's why you guys are here, right?

Right. So I propose a party.

- Do you mind? - No. Go ahead.

All in favor of a party, pony up some cash.

So if I'm reading this correctly,

this is something the group would enjoy?

You know what? Maybe it is time...

to take our new skill set out into the field.

I'll bring cupcakes.

You're not allowed to plan it. You just have to show up.

Small problem with the party.

- Small problem with my assistant. Josie? - She might be in the bathroom.

As in, you waited for her to take a bathroom break...

so you could barge in here?

And interrupt your important to go salad? Yes.

Now about the party.

I thought I wasn't supposed to worry about the party.

And you don't have to worry. You just have to donate... a little.

- For the caterer. We're short. - How short?

- A plane ticket. - What?

The caterer lives in Baton Rouge,

- ... but I found a cheap flight. - I think we're done here.

What? No, come on. Look, look, just hear me out, okay?

Look, even with the plane ticket,

it's still cheaper to use a caterer from Baton Rouge...

- ... than one in New York. - I wanted to serve cupcakes.

- Cupcakes don't go with the theme. - There's a theme now?

Of course there's a theme.

Josie, next time Trevor's in here, no bathroom breaks.

- ... Mardi Gras! - Excuse me?

That's the theme. So clearly, we need a cajun caterer.

And I know a great one. Great girl, great smile,

great crab cornbread fritters.

You know this woman?

I do, and she's in very high demand.

Look, it wouldn't be a proper Mardi Gras party without her.

Okay. I'll cover the cost of flying in the caterer.

Cool. This is gonna be great. You won't regret it.

- There are caterers in New York. - I know, but I think this caterer...

might be the clue to Trevor's real identity.

She's the first person he's ever mentioned from his past...

who wasn't a greek god.

And I read about your cornbread fritters...

in the "Roadside diner's guide. "

I would love to help you...

with your New York city Mardi Gras party, Mr. Pierce,

but Brad Pitt's already hired me to peel him a grape...

on a rocket ship, tomorrow's that day.

- J.T, I know it's you. - Tell you what,

when an overnight delivery guy shows up at your place...

with a ticket, will you get on that plane?

I've been in the city for 20 minutes,

and I've already seen two guys holding hands...

and the diner from "Seinfeld".

Well... yeah, catch a matinee of "Les mis," and you'll have...

your New York city bingo card filled out.

What is this place?

Oh, this is where the party will be.

You've hired me to cook for a party in a porno house.

What is wrong with you blue states?

No, no, no. It used to be a porno theater,

but it's been converted into a bar.

Right this way.

I took the liberty of checking you into your room.

I'm from Louisiana...

not a cave.

I can see that this is an apartment.

Oh, to the rest of the world.

But to you, this is a full-service hotel.

See, you got your little mints,

fresh towels, fresh flowers.

- This is Felix, the concierge. - I'm not a concierge.

Are you going to try and make me a sex slave?

Let's see where the day takes us.

'Couse I brought all my good cooking knives,

- ... and my key chain is a rape whistle. - I promise you'll be safe here.

- Is New York always so cold? - We got hot and muggy if you stick around.

Okay, who's ready to cook?

I need a bowl of jambalaya to go.

Coming right up.

I don't know if it's okay for you...

to just come here to eat lunch.

A person should eat in a serene, familiar setting,

surrounded by beauty.

Is that...

jambalaya?

Why?, yes, it is. Do you like jambalaya?

I lived in Louisiana for a couple years,

so, you know... yeah.

God. That smells like the real deal.

You have to try it. In fact, I think I have an extra spoon.

Man.

Damn. That is good.

Do you have any idea how hard it is...