Poker Face

So Anne St. Marie.

Address, 386 Dupont Street, apartment 6F.

Profession, retired poetry professor.

- Mm. - And Madeline St. Marie.

Address, the same.

Profession, bicycle messenger.

And Madeline is your granddaughter.

And you would like to initiate adoption proceedings?

So you would like to adopt your adult granddaughter

so that she's legally your daughter?

That's right.

How long have you lived here?

1972.

Ah.

Rent control.

Yeah. And the lease stipulates that it can only be passed on

to a spouse or child?

Otherwise, the rent could be raised

to current market value.

Oh, I don't, I don't know. I-I'd have to check.

Well, in that case, I suppose we should start

on that adoption paperwork.

Three months.

Why does it gotta take three months?

I had to grease a few palms to get it through that fast.

It usually takes six.

When are you home tonight?

- 6:30. - Yeah, well,

don't be late for "Jeopardy!" again.

Nana, come on.

Guy got hit by a waffle truck last night.

It's a one-time thing.

Hey, Otto. When are you going to fix the hallway lights?

When you going to kiss my ass

for living in such a palatial apartment

for a pittance?

You know how much I could be charging for that place?

Yep. Rent control's a bitch, ain't it?

Well, it takes one to know one, you old crone.

Oh.

Oh, um, go ahead, please.

Well, it's the best one.

- You should have it. - No. Please, I-I insist

I have taken the plum that was at the fruit stand,

which you were probably eyeing for breakfast.

You are forgiven.

It looks delicious.

So sweet and so cold.

Real asshole, that William Carlos Williams.

Steal someone's plum and then write a poem about it?

Yeah. He was the worst.

Big Beefhead was one nickname

for this late 19th century president.

Who was Grover Cleveland?

Grover Cleveland. Good for a thousand.

- Back to you. - Off, 1,000.

Kick out the R from a pile of stones

on a hiking trail and wander aimlessly.

Nana, you okay?

What should we watch after this?

Uh, "Michael Clayton."

Nana, you always want to watch "Michael Clayton."

It's the perfect movie.

What is Nova Scotia?

You got it.

Wild lines, 200.

Nana, I'm home early.

Nana?

Nana?

Nana? Oh, what the...

What the...

Oh, fuck! Oh!

Looked at Grandma's pussy eyes! God!

Here.

This is my girlfriend, Kate.

Kate Forster. Hello.

Sorry.

We really didn't expect you till later.

Oh, yeah, no, careful.

I don't think you should scrub.

I-it's more of a dab.

I think I got it.

Thank you so much, Kate Forster.

Okay, well, I'm sensing a little bit of hostility.

Does it make you uncomfortable

my relationship with your grandmother?

Yeah. It's-it's-it's walking in

on my nana having sex with a stranger

that makes me a little uncomfortable.

Mitten, I, I understand this is a shock.

I think it just,

I haven't really pictured you

in a romantic context outside of Grandpa, so...

No, I loved your grandpa very much.

It's just, when I was younger,

I, I dated quite a few people,

men and women,

and it's been a joy for me

to reconnect with that part of myself.

Nana, if you're happy, I'm happy.

Really?

Well, you still seem kind of upset.

It's probably from the pepper spray, Kate.

And you know what? Now that this Band Aid's been torn off,

I've been waiting for the right moment

to bring this up.

I've asked Kate to move in with us.

It's going to be fun, roomie.

I'm not the guy that you kill. I'm the guy that you buy.

Are you so fucking blind you don't even see what I am?

I'm the easiest part of your whole goddamn problem,

and you're going to kill me?

Don't you know who I am? I'm a fixer.

...shoplifting housewives to bent congressmen

and you're going to kill me?

Anything wrong, Maddy?

No, nothing's wrong.

Just trying to... watch the movie.

This movie is dumb.

All they do is talk.

I mean, I can't even follow the plot.

They talk in movies.

And it's also because you're not paying attention.

- I mean-- - Girls. Girls!

Please.

It's fine.

It's just a movie.

- One second. - Everything okay?

You're so fucked.

What?

You're fucked.

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

Yes! Yes!

I need you to do something for me.

Ah, Maddy.

Delicates day for you as well?

Am I meant to pick up this folder?

Look inside?

What might it contain?

"Jeopardy!" clues?

Your name isn't Kate Forster.

It's Amelia Peek.

And you're a liar and a felon.

Pieces of paper could never contain

the totality of a human life.

I don't care about the totality of your life.

I care about your prison record

and the three warrants you have out for your arrest.

Admit it. You're after my nana's incredible rent-controlled apartment.

When I see your nana,

I see her beauty...

and her wonderful mind

and her endless capacity for sensual delights.

And quite frankly, it concerns me

that when you look at her,

all you see is a nice, cheap apartment.

Yeah. I ain't buying that shit.

You're an absolute fraud.

You're going to break it off and you're going to leave town now.

Or?

Or I'm sure the Minnesota Bureau of Criminal Apprehension

will be very interested to learn your whereabouts.

Do you think it's wise...

to threaten the person in this packet?

You don't know me or what I've done...

or what I'm capable of.

Stay away from my nana.

Wowza.

That spin cycle is really something else.

Get the fuck out of town.

Okay, you win. I'll go.

But can you just give me a couple days to say goodbye?

I want to let Anne down gently.

You can have one day.

You said you'd do it at 3. It's now 3:05.

- Hmm. - Quit stalling.

Alright. Alright.

I just have some laundry in the wash.

Would you mind advancing it for me?

I'm not doing your fucking laundry.

I just need a minute alone with her, okay?

And then I'll be out of your hair... forever.

- Hey, Nana? - Yeah.

I'm just going to pop down and do some laundry, okay?

- Okay, Mittens. Love you. - I love you too.

What do you think about putting in a breakfast nook?

Hmm. Could be nice.

I think this is going to be good for me.

I got a good feeling about this.

New York City? Please explain.

Well, here's my working theory.

Everywhere I go, I get sucked into other people's bullshit.

Well, but here, the sheer volume of people,

I mean, just the amount of bullshit.

Well, I suspect it might work like some kind of a,

I don't know, white noise machine.

And, me, I can just be a person.

Now you're sure I'm not putting you out, right?

I haven't lived in Brooklyn for years.

I keep it as a tax write-off.