Signed, Sealed, Delivered: The Vows We Have Made

Shakespeare once wrote

that we are all actors

strutting and fretting on a stage

until our part is played.

Come on, come on.

Of course, Shakespeare was a playwright.

A doctor mi ght compare the world

to a vast waiting room

into which we humans bring as much hope as we can carry.

He was fine.

- Allergies? - No.

Did he hit his head?

I don't think so.

No.

Oh, baby...

A farmer may see us

as seeds in a field awaiting the harvest.

Or to sea captains,

we are a universe of ships seeking safe harbor.

Do you have any family who can help you through this?

It's just been the two of us.

Who's Ferd?

Who?

Ferd.

The nurse found this in his pocket.

Fred.

Fred is Owen's best friend.

Well, that's somebody, isn't it?

His name is John Marx. M-A-R...

He'd remember Fred.

No. No, my son is Owen.

Fred is...

Fine. What is...

what is that address?

They sell stamps in the gift shop,

and there's a mailbox outside.

But to a postal worker like me,

I believe that we are all, in some way, living letters,

unique souls slipped into fr agile human envelopes,

stamped by our Creator,

and sent into the world with a story only we can share.

Even when we are missing a stamp or two.

Like the mail,

we are sometimes mishandled,

misdirected,

even lost along the way.

And yet,

what is written on our hearts can never truly be lost...

and will, somehow,

some way, someday,

be delivered.

Good morning, you two.

How are you two today?

Considering all that we two have to do today,

we two are good.

"Good," of course,

being an evaluation of character and well-being,

and "well" being

a characterization of a state of being.

We're fine, Hazel.

- Excited for Saturday. - Oh, me too.

I have a question about the wedding.

Oh. Well, you'll have to keep up.

We're interviewing for the temp position today,

and we're running late.

Our colleagues are getting married on Saturday,

so you'll be assisting Miss Haywith Dorman and myself

while our co-workers are on their honeymoon.

So this is you?

The Dead Letter guys?

We're an elite task force

with wide powers of postal discretion.

Some people call us "The Postables".

Oops.

Ugh.

It's kind of sticky.

Kind of smells like leftover breakfast.

Ugh.

You know, I think we have

everything we need right here on your resume,

so we will be in touch.

We'll be in touch.

All right.

- Oh! - Hello.

- Good morning. - Morning.

Or goodbye.

Oh...

That was Phoenix Fink.

He's a no.

Oh. Well...

I'm sure our other applicants will be more impressive, hmm?

Uh, there are only two.

Not everyone appreciates

the glamor and mystery of our work, Oliver.

There are only two applications?

Mm-hmm. Just Phoenix and a Charley somebody,

who's coming in at 3:00.

But that gives us time to show you our house at lunch.

Oh, I can't wait.

Oh, and Rita and I have our last fittings at 2:00.

Ah, then we should get busy.

I believe today we address the horribly ripped and mangled.

And sticky.

Oh, these are from

the food truck mishap that happened last week.

A bucket of syrup fell off a Waffle Wagon

that ran over the bag of dead letters

that fell off of a postal van on the way to the DLO.

And now they're all glued together.

Hence the aroma of breakfast.

Oh, it looks as though someone less skilled than we

attempted to separate them

and ripped this one off the top.

That was Phoenix.

And now we're left with just a few letters and numbers,

and then the rest of the address is, well, stuck to this.

Oh, well. It is a start, assuming it can be detached.

Norman, any thoughts?

Well, I have been developing a special separating solution

specifically for paper preservation.

But it's still in its experimental stages.

It might be too soon.

Norman, from what I can perceive,

a child's drawing is cemented in this envelope.

And we cannot allow our country's children

to lose faith in the United States Postal System.

So? Shane, Ovilear?

What do you think?

Love it.

It's just so...

Rita and Norman.

Isn't it?

Don't you just love the breakfast nook?

Love the nook.

And the guest room can be a nursery someday.

Someday.

It is the perfect starter home, yes?

So are you going to make an offer?

Yeah. We just wanted your blessing.

Oh, and your dad's, of course.

What do you think, Mr. O'Toole?

Solid bones,

copper plumbing,

new electrical...

I say go for it.

Yes!

Excellente!

Big week, huh?

A house, a wedding...

and we finally get to meet your mother.

Well, two out of three isn't bad.

Hey, everybody gets the "meet the in-laws" jitters.

But if she's anything like you, it'll be easy.

Yeah, she's not.

We do wear the same size shoe.

And we share...

Nope, just the shoe size.

Don't worry.

We'll take good care of her, won't we, Oliver?

You know, I'm not sure

this mailbox meets postal regulations.

Dad, may I borrow your tape measure?

Her flight gets in tomorrow.

Dinner is at 6:30,

and I've scheduled my meltdown for 8:15.

I wouldn't miss it.

We did it!

We put in an offer.

And they accepted!

Right over the phone!

Right over the phone.

We bought a house.

We bought a house!

Norman, will you be all right?

I know it's a lot to take in.

A house, down payment, 30-day escrow.

But I am getting married in four days,

and I need my best man to be...

well, at his best.

Yeah. Oh, no problem.

I've got your checklist right here.

Oh, let's see.

Tuxedo, check.

Ring, check.

Wedding license, check.

Wedding gift for...

bride.

I thought people give us gifts.

And you give each other one.

It's basic wedding etiquette.

I read that

in "The Best Man's Guide to Basic Wedding Etiquette."

- Oh, I see. - Yeah.

What should I get?

Oh.

Well, pearls are always in good taste.

But something simple,

you know, something that lasts forever.

Forever?