That's my girl.
Maggie's a wonder.
With all she does, it's incredible.
She insists on making us
a good, hot meal every night.
I can't tell you what a comfort that
is when I drag my tired dogs
home from the office.
How long you two
been living together?
Who?
Oh, us?
I saw the aftershave in the bathroom.
Don't worry. I'm not a prude.
Margaret's mother-
Now, that's another matter.
She's a lace-curtain Bostonian.
Now, if she finds out,
she'll call the pope.
- The steak is great.
- What?
- You're smoking?
- So?
- It's just that- I mean,
I've never seen you smoke.
- So?
You into any sports up here, Joel?
Sports? Me?
Yeah. What do you play?
Oh. Um-
Well, in the winter, it's luge.
- Luge?
- Yeah. I'm into luge.
Isn't that some kind of sled?
Yeah, but that's, uh-
That's in the winter.
In the summer, I'm-
I'm really into bungee jumping.
- What?
- Bungee jumping.
You tie an elastic cord around your ankle,
and then you jump off a bridge.
You see, Frank, I have grown really,
really tired of contact sports.
I mean, sure, you can break an ankle,
you can tear up a knee, but can you die?
Can you die?
Where is the fun in it all if defeat is
nothing more than six months in traction?
- Have you two discussed the future?
- Dad, enough questions.
I think Joel must be exhausted
from talking so much.
No, your father's right.
He has every right to be paternal.
I'm sure you wanna know
if my intentions are honorable.
Well?
Well,
Margaret and I have had very serious
discussions about her conversion.
Conversion? To what?
- You didn't tell him?
- Tell me what?
I'm Jewish.
Oh.
The patient is a 63-year-old
male Caucasian,
Holling Vincoeur.
Mr. Vincoeur enjoys
swimming, photography...
and fresh seafood.
Today, I'm going to be operating
on Mr. Vincoeur's Johnny,
giving it a more youthful
and vigorous appearance.
So, without further ado,
here's Johnny!
Scalpel.
Uh-oh.
Oh, no!
- Can you fix it?
- No!
When are you going in
for your circumcision, Holling?
Tomorrow.
Break a leg.
Holling?
Uh, yes, Shelly?
Did you put this on the table?
Uh, yes.
Look. It's all smudged.
Your hand's shaking.
Well, it's-it's a bit-bit chilly in here.
Put on a sweater, babe.
You know, Marilyn, you can tell a lot about
a person by the contents of his pockets.
juicy Fruit, for example.
What does that suggest to you?
He liked gum.
Precisely.
Also indicates the man
had no fear of sugar.
If it were me, it would have
been Carefree, maybe Extra.
- I like Dentyne.
- Yeah, you see?
These clippers-
This is a fastidious man.
He cared about his grooming. Ah.
But here-
Now, here is a clue with resonance.
"Pick up shirt Monday''?
Right.
If we knew where that shirt was,
we could figure out who he is.
Where do you leave a shirt?
A dry cleaner, right?
We don't have a dry cleaner.
Exactly.
So we can eliminate that possibility.
Now, how about a tailor?
Maybe he needed to get
a button sewn on.
We don't have a tailor.
Okay. Okay, just stay with me.
Maybe we're onto something.
Suppose-
Suppose he had a lady friend
who did his laundry for him.
I'm goin' to lunch.
I wanna thank you for the stellar
performance last night.
- I was good, wasn't I?
- You were despicable.
You sunk to depths that
I didn't even know existed.
That you could treat my father like that-
You were sadistic, malicious.
You should be on your knees thanking me.
You needed the perfect boyfriend,
I gave you the perfect boyfriend.
Everything your dad
could want for his little Peanut.
You enjoyed it,
like some cheap con man.
I didn't weave
this web of deceit.
I wasn't the one who told your father
I was your intended.
I never said "intended.''
I said "boyfriend.''
- "Boyfriend.''
- Pardon me. I stand corrected.
And what I did was different-
completely different.
Yeah, it was worse.
What a P.R.job.
That dress, the creamed corn.
And that cigarette-
It was disgusting, O'Connell.
My clothes still