How I Met Your Mother

Kids, if there's one big theme to this story...

and I swear, we're totally, almost,

not really all that close to the end... it's timing.

Timing is everything. For example,

I never would've met your mother if it weren't for a wedding...

the last wedding I ever thought I'd be at.

- What do you think of this tie? - Oh, thank God.

Barney Stinson needs you right before his wedding,

you assume there's at least one dead hooker in the closet, right?

- Is this one better? - Look. The tie is great.

And, you know, it's perfectly normal to have some pre-wedding jitters.

I'm not having jitters.

It just occurs to me that once I put this tie on, I can never take it off.

I have to wear this tie for ever and ever.

And sure, this tie's skinny now,

but what happens if it gets fat and starts bossing me around?

Did I make a mistake? Would I have been happier with the other tie?

Ted, can I tell you a big secret?

Yeah, of course.

I'm not really talking about the tie. No, I got that, buddy. Yeah.

What if this whole thing's a disaster?

What if this is the worst wedding ever?

Not possible. We've already been to the worst wedding ever.

Punchy's wedding.

Marshall really took a two-flusher on that one.

The story of how Uncle Marshall ruined my friend Punchy's wedding...

starts in September 2011.

Punchy had asked me to be his best man.

Hey. Hey. Guys, uh, before we go,

would you mind reading my wedding toast?

No problem. Um, all right. If we have to.

All right. Whoa!

There's a few different versions.

Ted, why are you working so hard on this toast?

Punchy belched his proposal through a karaoke mike at a bowling alley.

Okay, look. I've never told you guys this, but,

over the years, a few of my old high school buddies...

have asked me to give wedding toasts,

and they haven't gone... great.

Somehow, those weddings all fell smack-dab...

in the worst moments of my life.

Joel and Mora's love is a beautiful thing.

I thought I had that...

till my fiancée left me at the altar last week.

I was asked not to talk about this, so I won't.

I sit outside her house at night sometimes.

She got a haircut.

After I lost my job last week, um,

I was asked not to give this toast.

No, no, no. The happy couple needs to hear this.

Things end.

But from the ashes of your statistically probable divorce,

hope can rise anew.

That is why I am starting my own architecture firm,

Mosbius Designs.

Mosbius Designs has failed.

But Alex and Jessica's love reminds us that...

that...

Oh, God!

Classic Schmosby!

Whoa. Punchy posted the low points of your life online?

Oh, not just that.

So now I seem like a total train wreck to all my old high school friends.

And a bunch of people in Finland.

The Auto-Tune thing got kind of big over there.

That's why I have to nail this toast.

Ted, you want to nail something at this wedding?

Lose the Trapper Keeper.

The only thing you need to bring to Cleveland is this.

That fall, I became the youngest architect in the history of New York...

to break ground on a skyscraper,

which led to a glowing magazine feature.

I planned on having it framed.

Uncle Barney had different plans.

Here's your toast...

"Single file, ladies. No fatties."

That's ridiculous.

Yeah, you're right. It's Cleveland.

"Single file, ladies."

I'm not going to Punchy's wedding to brag about a magazine.

Cover.

Barney, he doesn't need dating advice from you.

You never even called Nora.

Kids, you remember Nora.

But just the other day... I'll call you.

It's never too late, Barney.

Or did you call her?

Not that I care. Did you? I don't care. Did you?

I haven't called her.

Oh, buddy. Damn it, Barney. I was really,

really, really rooting for you two.

- Who wants hot wings? - I'm in.

Or maybe we should just pour hot sauce on Barney...

since he's a total chicken.

I did not chicken out.

Nora is looking for something serious.

I'm not. End of story.

And yes, Robin, I would love some wings.

- Cannibal. - Okay. Next round's on me.

Oh, no. No, we got it.

Now, Lily and Marshall had just found out they were having a baby.

I can't wait to tell everyone. Baby, no.

We can't tell anyone. Not-Not until three months.

I don't want to jinx it.

That's a bit superstitious, don't you think?

Whenever we board a flight, you lick the plane.

Have we crashed even once?

Don't say a word until we know everything's okay. Deal?

Deal. But... everything's just gonna be great.

I promise.

How can you guarantee that?

Hmm.

I'm just so happy.

I don't know how we're gonna keep this secret for three months.

Relax. It'll be easy.

What'll you have?

Four beers, plus one nonalcoholic.

You're pregnant! Get in here!

And so we all headed to my hometown...

where we planned to celebrate Punchy's big day.

Uncle Barney had different plans.

Get ready, Cleveland.

The last man to screw you this hard, then disappear...

was LeBron James.

Okay, you're trying to get laid here?

What?

God, Barney. Tonight is a magical night...

between Ted's annoying friend and what's-her-face.

Have some respect.

This isn't just getting laid.

This is market research.

You see, my legendary success rate of 83%...

Seventeen. It's always the inverse.

Doesn't happen by accident.

Every single play I run on women...

has been meticulously field-tested.

By weeding out the bad plays in smaller markets like Cleveland,

I know which ones will work in New York.

For example, tonight marks the inaugural flight...

of "the escaped manslaughterer."

Are escaped manslaughterers sexy?

- No. - Not even remotely.

Exactly! We'll never know unless I try it out tonight!

Schmosby! Turd-faces!

Yeah, you really feel that ring now.

So glad you all made it.

Open bar! Drink up, turd-faces.

'Cause Kelly's dad's paying for all this, and he hates my guts.

- It's true. - Who's doin' shots?

- Come on. Let's go! - Oh, no, thank you.

- What, are you pregnant or somethin'? - Let's get hammered!

Hey, hey!

You're drinkin' for two tonight, baby.

I will do this for the child.

Go Browns! Go Browns!

Yay.

In AFC regular season play, but if they meet in the Super Bowl, go Vikings.

Yowza!

Escaped manslaughterers... not sexy.

Although, in hindsight, that was kind of a flawed concept.

Next up... "Patient Zero."

Lily, we are getting sloshed tonight.

Okay.

That's all you, baby.

But that'll be four shots in with no food.

In nine months, I'll be pushing a pumpkin-headed Eriksen baby out of my hoo-ha.

I think Papa can manage a few extra cocktails.

Well played.

Hakuna matata!

I, uh... I gotta get some air.

Kids, remember how I told you Marshall ruined Punchy's wedding?

That wasn't it.

God, will you look at that guy?

I wish Barney were my boyfriend again.

No, thanks. Wait a minute. That's your truth voice.

My what? Whenever you're trying to pass something off as a joke...

but it's actually profoundly true, you use that voice.

I wish the Spice Girls would get back together.

They were awesome.

The worst.

- -

That was me. I totally cut one.

It was that guy.

Birthday present from my dad.

All I really want is for him to tell me that he loves me.

Just kidding. This pen's enough.

It's not enough.

It's totally enough.

Oh, my God.

You still have feelings for Barney.

Admit it. You still have feelings for Barney.

You are drunker than I thought.

I mean, look at the guy.

Wait, wait, wait. Before you go,

please answer the following survey to help me better bang you in the future.

What didn't work for you about this play?

Did you "A," not believe I was a Guinness Book World Record holder,

or "B," did the fingernails gross you out?

The...

Can't wait for your toast, Schmosby!