Sex, Lies, and Sugar

I love how French it sounds, en papillote.

- I just made a pot of meat. - It's just a piece of paper.

I wanted to try something new.

Marybelle, what did you make?

Just a dessert.

Probably won't be as good as yours.

Sug, we need to get a move on.

Well, let me cut it open first.

Watch the steam, girls.

This thing is gonna be hot.

Jesus, it's Armageddon out here.

Let's mix up some daiquiris.

Ooh.

Now, be nice.

But I wanted to try something new.

I used that meat spread with the little devil on the front.

Do you even know it's in that stuff?

Instead of flour or milk,

I just plopped in two cans of cream of mushroom.

You're so right, Sugar.

Condensed soup?

That's what we've got here, solid soup.

Why not have a potluck on Sunday night?

With none of our husbands going to work on Monday

because of the holidays, it might be a nice change,

but to make it more exciting, we could have a contest.

We could each bring a dish

and we could let our husbands be the judges.

I don't know.

I can't win against you guys.

Finally, some action around here,

I've got a trick or two up my sleeve.

You've gotta trick or two up your skirt.

Ladies, the war is on.

Marybelle.

Yay.

Yay!

Oh, hello neighbors!

Come on in.

Pleasure.

Kitty.

Your old lady's in the room fixing up.

- Well, hello! - Jerome.

Hi, great to see you.

You'd make a beautiful man, Jerome.

And Les!

Hey, do you golf?

You should come play some holes

with Sterling and me sometime.

- Well- - Great!

We'll play tomorrow.

I'll pick you up at nine.

Maximilian and Marybelle.

Conrad.

Hey, why don't you all mix up some martinis

and I'll go get the old ball in chain?

Be back in two shakes.

- Max. - Sterling.

You're looking fit.

You been working out?

Oh, you know,

just running and messing a little with the weights.

- Bert. - Maximilian.

Wow, Florene, you look fantastic.

Why, thank you, darling.

Where are the girls?

Kitchen.

So, uh, Leslie, you still working at the university?

Yes, he's still answering the president's phone.

I like mine a little dirtier.

Uh, you got it.

Hey, you've been messing with my stuff.

Not tonight, Connie.

We've got company.

My tweezers are upside down.

You've been using them on your eyebrows.

Fucking hair on 'em.

Don't touch my fucking shit.

You know better than that.

When I was five,

my mother told me I was adopted

and she handed me a bucket and some cleaning supplies,

and she told me to get to work.

I wrote my first poem that day.

- Good evening ladies. - Hi, Sug.

- I'm telling a story. - Oh, excuse me.

I scribbled it on a piece of toilet paper,

in between scrubbing the pot it went like this.

Dreams are candy

and mothers are dark smears on white porcelain.

I wrote a poem every day since.

A poem for every day of my life.

I would write while washing the dishes

or polishing the silver or cleaning the vomit off the carpet

after one of my mother's nightly binges.

Let's just say I grew up in the perfect environment

for a poet to thrive.

What the hell are you talking about?

You don't even know what a poem is.

Well, she's getting her poetry

straight from the bottle.

I got started early.

A child prodigy, a poet and a drunk by the age of five.

Gosh, we're gonna have fun tonight, I can feel it.

Yesterday,

movie legend Judy Garland was found dead

in the bathroom of her rented Chelsea London house.

Good Lord.

The coroner stressed

that there was no evidence

to suggest she had committed suicide.

Even so, a British specialist who had attended Garland

said she had been living on borrowed time

due to cirrhosis of the liver.

Garland had turned 47 just 12 days prior to her death.

Her "Wizard of Oz" costar Ray Bolger commented saying,

and I quote, "She just plain wore out."

I always loved "The Wizard of Oz."

47, that's too bad.

- That's too bad. - Holy shit.

We saw her at Carnegie Hall.

Is it time to eat yet?

My friends, here it is.

The first round of what will be many...

Ca-ca-ca-ca-casserole wars!

And the inventor of tonight's winning dish

will receive this groovy T-shirt.

My father gave me a T-shirt for my fifth birthday

that read Daddy's little question mark.

I don't know why we can't just have a dinner party.

I hate this competition stuff.

You know, deep down inside, you're not gonna win.

Jerome!

Okay, honey, she's just jealous.

You're a better cook.

Dehydrated food and powder.

Am I supposed to believe in astronaut can survive on Tang?

Get with the words, I need food.

Oh, Florene's hungry.

We gotta get her home.

Well, is everybody ready?

On your marks, get set and eat!

Before we dig in,

I would like us all to raise our glasses.

To Sugar.

Thank you for organizing this for evening.

- Sugar! - To Sugar.

Sugar!

Do you know olio, Bert?

Why do they call it olio?

It's really margarine.

What the hell is olio?

Remember in "All About Eve,"

when Bette Davis bites into that raw green onion?

I'm currently having that experience.

I don't know.

You know, I feel better if I line the pan with foil.

Call it a quirk!

- Is a pimento a pepper? - Oh no.

- Pimento's not a pepper. - A pepper's a vegetable.

- Pimento is a pepper. - Yeah.

You know, I always thought Dr. Pepper was a real person.

It turned out true.

A big piece of gristle in this one.

Oh, that's Sugar's.

You know, I couldn't personally eat sweetbreads.

It's the brains, right?

Thymus.

- What the hell is a thymus? - Right.

- It's a gland in your neck. - I don't have a thymus.

- I mean, in a calf's neck. - Oh no, not a calf.

That's horrible, I could never eat a baby.

Hands down, the strangest thing about us

is that none of us have had babies.

Some of us should have had children.

Wow.

Okay.

With four votes, the winner tonight is...

The salmon en papillote.

It's salmon en papillote.

- Look at that T-shirt. - Wow.

- Look. - You wear it well.

Here, Connie, this one's for you.

To the salmon.

I bet what happened is that everyone burned their mouths

on the first bite and their taste buds were useless

because that was definitely not the best dish tonight.

I'm sorry, it was not the best dish tonight.

Jerome, you don't have to be so defensive about it.

Jerome has written a note.

The salmon tastes like a spoonful of cunt.

Jerome!

- Jerome! - You can't say that word.

You can't say that word out loud.

You know, honey,

there isn't a word like that for men though, cunt.

Maximilian Beadham.

Just saying there isn't a derogatory term

for men as ugly as cunt.

Stop saying it.