Connor
sing "You Do Something To Me''?
It's fantastic.
All right,
where do you want this thing?
Over there in the corner, please.
Ah, yes.
Under the memorial shrines.
I think scrapbooks are clichй.
Huh. How many boyfriends
have you lost?
Four.
This is definitely original.
No, I'm serious.
Well, I used to have candles,
but I worried that they'd burn the dioramas.
A lot of those figurines are crayons.
Crayons?
Yeah, I melt them down,
pour them into molds.
Then after they cool off,
I put on their little outfits.
Where'd you pick up the plastic sushi?
Sitka.
Harry's is the worst.
I mean, no matter what I do,
talcum powder does not look like snow.
But Roy's is good, though.
He loved those California rolls.
Why do they all have these
little black polka dots all over them?
Those are the black fedoras.
The black fedoras?
Yeah, symbolizing-
Well, you know.
Death?
Right.
And what does
the glued-on macaroni symbolize?
Man's inhumanity to man?
Nothing, Fleischman.
They symbolize nothing.
They're macaroni.
What are you gonna do for Rick,
a toy plane and a tiny Soloflex machine?
Very amusing.
Now, just put the chair by the sushi.
You're amazing.
Incredible.
Spectacular.
Better than the Buzzer?
I know, I know.
I wouldn't want you
to talk about me to them.
Oh, you're the one
with the privacy fetish.
No dining out,
no strolling through town.
I've got your reputation to protect.
Girl like you,
small town like this-
You could be ruined in a week
if tongues started wagging.
You're sweet.
Very sweet.
As sweet as Johnno?
Maurice, you're so silly.
Oh, I bet he's great
in the sack, huh?
Unimaginative,
but very, very dependable.
A missionary man all the way.
Am I right?
What if I don't tell you?
What if I make you?
I've got something that'll
break down those defenses.
What are you doing?
Maurice! Oh, no.
Again? You devil!
You bad, bad man.
Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
Oh, Maurice.
Ignition.
We have liftoff.
Oh, my God!
One, two, three, four.
Sorry I'm late.
Your move, Mr.-
Streisand.
Your move, Mr. Streisand.
Ah!
Let's not tell him about
the Anchorage-New York plane crash.
If he finds out he's dead,
the evening'll be a total drag.
Isn't she lovely?
Maggie?
Miss Scarlet.
Gilliam, I don't care whether you like it or-
Well, that was fast.
Oh. I'm surprised that
there's someone in New York who-
No, I've never heard of
a Dr. David Ginsberg.
Ginsberg. Jewish.
This may come as a shock to you,
but not every Jew in New York
knows every other Jew in New York.
We're not like the-the Masons.
We don't have a secret handshake.
No, not the Masons.
The Freemasons.
Look, forget I mentioned-
Okay, fine.
I will look forward to seeing his face.
Oh, boy.
The substitute New York Jewish doctor.
I know the type.
You do?
You bet your mukluks I do.
Dr. David Ginsberg.
B.A., City College,
M.D., Columbia University.
Do I know guys like him?
I am guys like him.
He's gonna love Cicely, Alaska.
- Hello. I'd like to see the doctor.
- That's him.
Can I help you?
May I speak to you a moment
in private?
Sure.
Have I seen you before, Ms.-
Klochner.
No, I'm just passing through.
It's Ben's week
to tag snowshoe hares.
Sounds thrilling.
Who's Ben?
- My husband.
- Oh. Okay.
Well, what seems to be
your, uh, problem?
Oh, it's not me.
It's Maurice.
Maurice?
Maurice Minnifield?
Last night in the middle of the night,
he was snoring away-
Wait, wait. Wait.
Excuse me, Mrs. Klochner.
I mean, I don't mean
to be invasive or anything, but-
just to make sure I'm totally clear on this-
we are talking about
the same Maurice Minnifield?
Yes, the astronaut.
All right.
I just wanted to be clear.
Well, I was fast asleep
when his snoring woke me up.
Actually, I'm-I'm quite used
to Maurice's snoring.
I've come to expect it.
In an odd way,
even to depend on it.
It's so-
Well, you know, it's so Maurice.
Anyway, I came awake with a start,
and I