What If

Wallace, whatever you saw,

there's an explanation.

I'm not saying that it's a good explanation,

it's obviously a bad explanation,

but we can't just leave things like this.

You have to call me back, okay?

Wallace, whatever happened, I still love you.

This message has been saved for 379 days.

Message deleted.

Yeah, that was supposed to be an anonymous fridge magnet poem.

And here I am quietly judging you.

Oh, I can handle it. I've humiliated myself

much more thoroughly in front of people I actually know.

- Cheers. - Cheers.

I'm sorry, I moved your poem.

I find this, like, weirdly addictive.

- Yeah, like face tattoos. - Like peeing in the ocean.

- Oh. - Aah!

- Here it is. Here it is. - Hi.

- Oh, did you guys meet? - Uh, kind of, yeah.

Wallace, this is my cousin Chantry. She's an animator.

- Chantry, this is Wallace. - You're Wallace?

This is the first time he's been outside in, like, a year.

- Wow. - Yeah.

Yeah, you do look pale.

I just assumed you were, like, anemic or partially albino.

- It's both, actually. - He's been hibernating

- like bear because of his broken heart. - Aw.

Stop telling people and stroking my face.

- Anyway, um... - Do you guys know Becky?

Uh, she's small, has brown hair, always bragging about her eating disorder.

I'm Becky.

- It's been a while. - Oh, hello.

It's so good to see you again.

That's just what she sounds like!

Can I give you a tour of the house?

Come.

To be fair, um,

I don't always like parties, either.

Awkward small talk is not my forte.

It's "fort," actually.

"Forte" is Italian, it means "forcefully." And "fort" is French for "strength."

But I still say "forte" too. If you say "fort,"

everyone thinks you're getting it wrong, even though it is correct.

So is that, like, your thing? Correcting people's pronunciation?

- Yeah, that's my thing. - How's that going for you?

I have a dead-end job, live in my sister's attic,

and I never go out.

Uh, correcting pronunciation is my old thing.

Actually, my new thing is over-sharing.

- Heh. - Here, try some of Allan's beer.

Thank you.

You actually knocked yourself out?

- I think so. - Wow.

And I'll tell you something really weird.

My face is, like, permanently damaged.

Like, if you look up here, you can see there's, like...

- I think there's, like, a dent. - Sort of like, uh, Quasimodo.

Yeah.

So, um, I've got to go to the bathroom.

Do you need anything, like some dental floss,

or, you know, um, expired aspirin?

No, but I've left a matchbox in there,

and I was hoping women could leave pubic hair...

Uh, I'll just go around with, like, a party tray.

No, they'll be in there. It'll be fine.

- I'm stuffing a pillow. - Okay.

- Oh. Hey. - Oh. Hi.

I was just, um, leaving without saying goodbye, like a dick.

Yeah. Yeah, that's totally what I am doing as well.

- Heh. - Oh.

- Where are you...? - Oh, um,

I'm just, like, a couple blocks west.

- Me too. - Oh.

- Uh, would you like to walk together? - Um, yeah. Sure.

Cool.

I read in the tabloids that she's a cannibal

- and he faked Parkinson's for attention. - I read that too. Crazy.

Awful people. Really.

Um, this is actually me here.

Oh. Right. Um, well, hey, I had a really good time talking to you.

Yeah. Me too. Which is rare, actually.

I'm usually not that social, so...

Well, um,

maybe you'd like to talk again sometime.

Yeah, definitely. We should hang out.

Yeah. It'd be lovely.

Okay, so, I'm gonna give you my number.

- Okay. I will... - Top secret.

Good.

I did not mean to stay out so late.

No, me neither.

My boyfriend will be worried about, um, what happened to me,

so, you know, call me.

Yes. Thank you very much. Um...

- Nice to meet you. - Nice meeting you.

- Cool. - Good night.

Good night.

I had a good time talking to you.

Yeah. Me too.

My boyfriend will be wondering what happened to me.

Hey, what's up, Felix?

- You all right? - Just dropped an earring.

Your dinner's in the oven.

- Good night. - What time will you be home?

If the date is good, midnight.

If the date is bad, 8.

Uh, no treats, okay? And no horror movies.

And don't let him go up on the roof.

And don't sell his organs on the black market.

Okay. I'm off.

Take care. Have fun. Good luck.

- Unh. - Clear!

All right, mate, close your eyes.

Clear.

Aah!

Okay, you can open them again.

Thank you.

Nothing gave Buttercup as much pleasure

as ordering Westley around.

Farm boy?

Polish my horse's saddle.

I want to see my face shining in it by morning.

As you wish.

"As you wish" was all he ever said to her.

Thank you.

- Hey. Need a ride? - Oh, hey.

Hey. Um, no, I think we're okay. Thanks. Yeah.

Sorry, I didn't see you there.

No, I also didn't see you standing right next to me.

Hi, Wallace.

- Chantry. - Yes.

- I'm here alone. - Me too.

My boyfriend was supposed to come, but he had to work late, so...

I like seeing movies by myself, though.

I think it's, um, really cool you're here alone.

Oh, yeah. Super cool.

Yeah.

- Seriously? - Yeah, seriously.

I don't think you can have Princess Bride as one of your favorite movies

if you actually think love makes you a worse person.

Well, no, it's irrelevant.

The Princess Bride is a fairy tale.

In fairy tales, love inspires you to be noble and courageous,

but in real life, love is just an all-purpose excuse for selfish behavior.

You can lie and cheat and hurt people, and it's all okay because you're in love.

I don't know if you are actually cynical,

or just a super crazy, romantic cheese ball.

You go see Princess Bride by yourself, on a week night, like a total loser.

Yeah, well, your boyfriend ditched you, and you still came all by yourself,

- so who's the real loser? - Are you hungry?

I can't believe you ordered fried pickles.

Pickles are disgusting. Pickling is like embalming, basically.

Like, a pickle jar is like a tomb for cucumbers.

I violated a tremendous amount of corpses in medical school,

so I know that pickling is not the same as embalming.

- You're a doctor? - Uh, heh, no.

- Med school dropout. - All right.

The whole premise of deep-frying is it makes everything taste better.

- I don't like deep-fried food. - French fries?

- Eugh. - Onion rings?

- Fried chicken? - Nope.

- Fish and chips? - Gross.

Funnel cakes? Doughnuts? Deep-fried banana sandwiches?

No, but Elvis ate those.

And something called Fool's Gold.

- What is that? - I don't know exactly,

but I read on the Internet that Elvis died

with 40 pounds of undigested feces still in his intestine.

Thank you for telling me that in the middle of dinner.

- You're welcome. - Next time I take a bite,

- you can say "diarrhea." - Diarrhea.

Is this something you learn in med school?

Yeah. They go through the...

- All the famous people. - All the famous people

and how much feces were left in them at the time of their death.

- Marie Antoinette? - Tons.

In fact, they had to guillotine her intestine as well as her head.

Yeah. They just, like, moved the body further along through the machine.

Who do you think weighs the feces?

I think, as the king,

it would've been, like, a job that people fought for.

- Mm-hm. - "Well, if I can't dress him,

if I can't make him look pretty for the casket, can I at least touch his poo?"

- You think he kept a bit? - I'm sure he did.

In a matchbox or something, yeah.

Like, one of those little vials you could wear around your neck.

Like, yeah, he had, like, a little shit locket.

- Heh-heh-heh-heh. - Yeah, yes.

So, like, I've been with Ben for five years, and, like,

I get that guys don't want to hang out with the girl with the boyfriend,

but it just sucks, you know.

It just makes you feel like the only thing

that's interesting about you is how you look with your clothes off.

I mean, like, it should be easier to make friends if you have a boyfriend,

because there's no confusion.

Uh, so is that it?

That's your big pitch to be my friend?

- Um... - That was terrible.

Yeah, I know, I know.