Happy Endings

Well... spring has sprung.

The food truck business is about to boom,

which means once again I have to contend with my archenemy,

the Brazilian.

What's wrong with you guys?

Normally, you'd razz me pretty hard

when I say things like "spring has sprung"

or when I walk into a room.

"Five way Jinx." Really?

"Yes, really!" All right, fine.

Max, Penny, Brad, Jane, Alex.

UnJinxed.

You don't have to hold your breath when you're Jinxed.

I play prison rules.

They play Jinx in prison?

Guys, back to my thing! The Brazilian.

Oh, you mean that guy with the awesome steak truck--

Rio de Ja-Tasty?

Oh, I love that guy. He has the best churrascherascia.

- It's churrascaria. - Ugh.

- Gross. - Anyway, the guy's a real jerk.

He's always sabotaging me, trying to steal my business.

Just fight back like you did in high school

when those kids stole your can of mousse.

Oh, wait. You didn't fight back.

You just hid in the yearbook office

and complained that your hair wasn't hard enough.

Penny, this dude is hard-core.

One time, he plugged an exhaust vent in my truck

with human manure.

And he's always calling in fake to-go orders.

You didn't think it was weird that Dean Cain asked you

to cater an 1,100-person bachelor party?

No, Jane, I didn't think it was weird

because it was Dean freakin' Cain.

- Ohh. - The point is,

I gotta be a man and stand up for myself...

on my own, with you guys behind me--

Brad, maybe you more towards the front,

perhaps wearing some raiders gear?

Well, us gals can't help 'cause we're too busy

doing some last-minute details for the old wedding.

Yep. I'm officially in the wedding red zone.

See, I put that in sports terms so you guys could understand.

We're in the eighth quarter, boys,

about to put some sports points up on the scoreyard.

Oops. I think I formbled the bawrrl.

Turnunder.

- Well, Brad, Max? - I don't know.

I sent myself an alarm clock to scare the Fed Ex guy,

and that's showing up around 1:00.

But other than that, I think I'm free.

I'm all clear. Was gonna volunteer

teaching some inner city kids how to read,

but then I was like...

this is my Saturday.

Awesome. Well, the girls got their stupid thing,

and we got our awesome thing, so go us on three. Ready?

One--

Jinx!

Then at 3:12, Penny enters, lookin' gorg,

saunters down the aisle

as we call once again on the obese Hawaiian ukulele trio

for "Suddenly Seymour"...

from "Little Shop Of Horrors."

Fat people and tiny instruments--

you think they're gonna eat 'em, but then they play 'em.

Yep.

Oh, God. It's just like I dreamed.

Wait. Who's gonna walk you down the aisle?

You know what? I never even thought about that.

You had Jane plan you a backup wedding in an underground bunker

just in case North Korea quote "grew a pair,"

but you never thought about

who was gonna walk you down the aisle?

Wait! You should have your dad do it.

- What? - Yes!

Why? I can't even remember the last time I saw him.

Yeah, 'cause he's a deadbeat.

He left you and your mom to become an actor?

Ucch. Actors are the worst.

- Awful. - The worst.

But, Jane, "deadbeat" is a little strong.

Roy and my mom were 17.

They were just two kids doing Shakespeare in the park

and each other in the parking lot.

Besides, my mom and I were fine without him.

But this is a chance to reconnect with him.

No, Pen, I don't wanna see you get hurt.

Okay, he was never there for you.

Why would you let him be a part of your special day?

Come on, Penny. You have half your dad's DNA,

and you're amazing.

He has all his DNA.

Think of how great he could be.

He's the great unknown.

He's the Moon.

We've been to the Moon.

Really, Jane? Have we?

Or have we been to a soundstage in Burbank?

Penny, you got to at least call him

and tell him that you're getting married.

Yeah. Maybe I will.

Yes! Ah!

Brad, you're a businessman. How do I beat the Brazilian?

Well...

you need to follow the four basic business principles--

marketing, quality, research, and service.

It's a little something we in the corporate world

like to call "maskqualisearcheting."

I have sat silent long enough.

It's been 20 seconds.

Dave, you don't need any of this business crap.

What you need is to play dirty.

You need a dirtbag,

and luily enough for you, my middle name is Herbert...

and I'm a dirtbag.

He's not lying. He once ladybugged himself into a junior high girls soccer tournament,

bet against the team, and then threw the game.

Best $45 I ever won, minus the $10 it cost me

to find an ace bandage big enough to strap down my girls.

But what we need to do, David, is go down to his butcher,

change the order from delicious churrasco beef

that he usually gets to all the nasty bits.

I'm talkin' lips, veins, and grade Y crotch meat.

Are you telling me that you convinced

an AYSO tournament director

that you were as flat as a seventh grade girl?

Guilty as charged.

Well, I tried playing fair, and it didn't work.

Max, you got the ball now.

- What?! - What?!

Oh. Oh, yeah!

Yeah, I can handle it. Good call.

Guys, thank you so much

for coming with me to meet my dad.

I am nervous.

Don't be! It's exciting!

Well, he's off to a great start-- 20 minutes late.

Classic deadbeat dad move.

Right now he's probably

in the engine room of a riverboat casino,

just begging for his thumbs back.

Penny?

Hi, Roy. Oh.

Oh. H-- oh.

- Uh... - Hey. Hello.

- Okay. Hi. - Hello.

Okay.

Roy, this is Jane and Alex.

- Hi! - 'Sup, trick?

Nice to meet you both.

Listen, Penny, I'm sorry I'm late.

I wanted to bring you flowers,

but I didn't know what kind you liked,

so I just took a stab and I went with peonies.

They're my favorite!

I mean... they're a'ight.

So... what? You're just gonna give these flowers to Penny,

expect her to raise them by herself?

Oh, come on, Jane.

Only a dad could guess his daughter's favorite flowers.

Quick-- what's Penny's favorite food? Bacon.

- Wait. That's mine. - Let me guess.

You're the friend that I'm gonna have to win over,

you're the optimist that believes in second chances,

and you're Penny, right?

I'm kidding!

I'm-- I'm nervous, and I joke when I'm nervous, so...

- So do I. So do I. - Yeah.

You know, a Mexican walks into a spaceship.

I'm sorry. I get racist when I joke.

And I get hungry when I get racist. Okay.

Should we sit down and order?

Yeah. Okay.

Okay, you want us to cancel the rib eye and the top sirloin,

and instead you want a tripe, ligament, and inner ear meat.

All right.

And there's so such thing as a prime colon chop, pal.

Ah, for shame.

Are you sure about this?

Us at Rio de Ja-Tasty are going in a new direction.

All right, we'll send it out shortly.

Obrigado, my friend.

Uhh!

Sorry, shoulders.

It's okay, cool pants.

I'm Wilson.

Max.

We should hang out sometime.

Ooh!

World-class hang, bro.

So I'm in Studio 54.

It's 1981, '82, something like that,

and Stephen Sondheim looks at me...

and says, "you've got it."

Stephen Joshua Sondheim. "You've got it."

Of course, then I realized he was talking about his umbrella.

'Cause we were by the front door,

and I thought there was, like, a communal