Alan?
Alan, what are you doing?
There are dust bunnies everywhere!
So you're vacuuming dust bunnies?
No. Their poop. It's all over the place.
Are you sleepwalking?
You're stepping in it! Don't step in it!
Alan, why don't we leave the dust bunny poop until morning?
-Click. -Hey!
Come on. Let's get you tucked in, you crazy son of a bitch.
-What? -You know.
Okay, that's it, into bed. Nighty-night.
If you feel the need to get up and clean something,
maybe you can wax my car.
For God's sake, Rose!
Isn't there enough poop on the carpet tonight?
What are you doing here?
I'm sorry. I saw your lights come on and I was worried.
Why were you looking at my house at 3:00 in the morning?
Haven't you heard of the Neighborhood Watch?
-We don't have a Neighborhood Watch. -Well, not yet.
If we did, I surely couldn't stroll in here like I just did.
Yeah.
-So, what's going on? -Nothing. Alan was sleepwalking.
-At least, I hope that was sleepwalking. -Sure.
My parents used to put a football helmet on me
-and strap me in bed. -You were a sleepwalker?
No.
-Good night, Rose. -Good night, Charlie.
Thank you, I had a wonderful time.
If crazy ever becomes an Olympic event, I get the first two legs of the relay.
-What? -Nothing.
Man, I'm living in a loony bin.
Judith, I don't care what all the other divorced parents are doing.
I don't think Jake needs to keep seeing the psychologist.
No, I am not in denial.
Judith, denying you're in denial is not denial.
Okay, this is how it's going to be.
I will have Jake at the psychologist's office at 1 1 :00.
You're welcome.
Damn it!
-What's wrong? -Nothing.
Were you talking to Mom?
Yes, but I hung up before I said the bad stuff.
Yeah, she does the same thing with you.
-Hey. -Morning. Why is the vacuum cleaner out?
Because we were ankle deep in bunny poop.
-Were you drinking last night? -Yes, but that's not the point.
-You were sleepwalking. -Really? I have no memory of being up.
Good for you, because I have no memory of being asleep.
I'm sorry, I haven't done that since I was a kid.
Yeah, well, if you're gonna regress,
Iet me know, so I can stock up on rubber sheets.
Okay, that was uncalled for!
You want to go to the bowling alley and play some air hockey today?
Sure, but you still owe me like $12,000 from last time.
What are you gonna do, break my thumbs?
Wouldn't hurt your game.
Remember, we have Jake's session first.
Man! I thought you didn't want him to go back to that quack.
I didn't, but Judith and I talked,
and we decided that what I want makes no difference whatsoever.
Man, you are so whipped.
I am not whipped! I'm just trying to keep everybody happy.
-Meow. Fit-choo! -I am not "meow-fitchooed."
You're right. It's been a long time since you got any meow.
Are we getting a cat?
You know, this is a waste of time. Jake's a normal kid.
But it's not gonna hurt to have someone outside the family he can talk to.
Please. He's just sitting in there making stuff up.
-What? -Well, not really making it up.
He and I work out his schtick beforehand.
Today he's telling her he sees dead people.
Charlie, I am paying this woman a lot of money.
Bet you feel pretty stupid, huh?
What do you want me to do?
Judith is insisting he comes here once a week.
Okay, look, nobody likes divorce, but there are certain advantages.
One of the more popular ones
is you get to tell your ex-wife to bite the big one!
-Or whatever you got left. -Yeah.
That'll help. Look, it's just an hour out of our day.
Which could've been spent on air hockey and bowling alley martinis.
It's a small price to pay to avoid aggravating Judith.
-Okay. I understand. -Thank you.
You're a big girl.
Okay. Are there any out here?
-No. -Good.
We'll see you next Saturday.
Doctor, you should know, he doesn't really see dead people.
Of course not. He's just trying to resolve
emotional issues through visualized fantasy.
Do you have my check?
Dad, how come we never got spare ribs when we were at Mom's house?
Because your mom thinks they're too fatty.
Fit-choo!
-ls that really necessary? -Hey, if the fit-choo fits.
Fit-choo!
Are you happy?
-Come on, he doesn't know what it means. -Fine.
Anybody see the pancakes for the moo-shu chicken?
No, looks like they forgot them. Just eat it with a fork.
You don't eat moo-shu with a fork.
You eat moo-shu with a pancake, like a little Chinese taco.
-Okay, all right. You want a taco shell? -No, I don't want a taco shell!
I want a pancake for my moo-shu. I ordered pancakes. I paid for pancakes.
Where the hell are my pancakes?
-Alan, chill. -I will not chill. I want what I ordered.
And for once in my life, I will get what was promised me!
Fit-choo.
See? Not a clue.
I am gonna call that restaurant and give them a piece of my mind.
That's smart. Scream at the people who handle your food.
-ls he okay? -Yeah.
Maybe a little tired. Just been working pretty hard.
You know, my second grade teacher, Miss Spulvaney?
One time she got mad 'cause there was no chalk,
and they found her in the cafeteria hiding under a lunch table.
-No kidding. -Yeah, she went berserk.
That's how we got Miss McKinnon.
-Hi. -Rose?
How do you keep getting in the house?
Charlie, aren't we past that?
I thought you'd like to know that your brother is sleepwalking again.
And you had to get in bed with me to tell me that?
No, silly. I was already in bed with you.
I just heard him walking around downstairs.
Alan?
-What are you doing? -Making a birthday cake.
You and Mom want some?
You handle this, honey, I'm going back to bed.
-Jake, your grandmother's here. -Oh, man.
I mean, right here in the room.
Oh, man, Grandma's here!
-I blame you. -Take a number.
How could we be out of eggs?
"Dr. Linda Freeman, Child Psychologist?" Who here's seeing a child psychologist?
Jake.
His mom was concerned about, you know, the impact of the divorce and everything.
-On who? -On Jake.
I'll be right back. I'm gonna go get some eggs.
Jake, honey. I just want you to know
that seeing a therapist is no reflection on you.
-Okay. -It's a reflection on your parents.
Particularly your mother.
I think we're gonna get a cat.
-The queen of darkness is here. -Thanks for the heads-up.
-Where you going? -We're out of eggs.
And you have no idea why?
Well, Charlie, I would assume somebody ate them.
Okay, let's go with that.
And then I tried Freudian analysis, but with them, you know, it's just sex.
-My doctor has a cow puppet. -Really?
-M.D. or PhD? -C-O-W.
-Hey, Ma. Can I talk to you for a minute? -I'll be right there.
Now, honey, the cow puppet doesn't need to know about the time
you saw grandmommy dancing with the Cuban gentleman
in the Neiman Marcus changing room.
What is it, Charlie?
I need to talk to you about Alan. He's been acting really strange lately.
And I suppose it's my fault.
No. Well, maybe.
The thing is, he's been sleepwalking,
and I remember him doing it when he was a kid.
Yes. It was shortly after your father passed away.
-What'd you do about it? -Well, nothing really.
It seemed to stop by itself when he was 13.
Right around the time he started taking those long showers
and relieving his anxiety in a more direct way.
Got it. So, sexual release cured his sleepwalking?
Seemed to. Of course, there was a brief time when the two overlapped.
I recall an incredibly awkward bridge game.
Okay, great. Thanks.
I had Seven No Trump and he just walked in
with this goofy smile on his face.
This is nice. Great idea, Charlie.
I figure you work all week, you got your kid on the weekends.
I bet you hardly even have the time to take a nice long soapy shower.
-Yeah, it has been a little hectic. -Let me ask you something.
When's the last time you had sex with a girl?
Or a melon? Or anything?
-None of your business... -That long?
-Why do you care? -I don't know.
You just have that twitchy look of a guy who's got one stuck in the chamber.
I'm fine, Charlie.
Yeah, sure, I'd like to meet somebody.
But in the meantime, I'm living a very full life.
I have no complaints. This table is really starting to piss me off.
Just let it wobble.
You want beer in your lap? 'Cause I don't want beer on my lap.
Hi, Charlie. Who's your cute friend?
Just get up here, you jackass.
Hi, Charlie. Who's your cute friend?
Hi, Darlene. This is my brother, Alan.
Come, please, join us.
-Hi, Alan. This is my friend, Annette. -Hi.
-Hello. -Hey, he is cute.
You are.
You know, Alan, Annette is a seat-filler for most of the major awards shows.
-ls that so? -Yeah, it's a big responsibility.
'Cause when a celebrity gets up to go the bathroom,
they don't want to have an empty seat on TV.
Understandable.
You know who pees a lot? Jeff Bridges.
What do you say we leave and go back to our place?
-Okey-dokey. -Wait, just hold it.
-Everybody, sit down. -I feel like I'm at work.
-What is going on? -Nothing.
We met a couple of girls who took a shine to us.
-Just like that? -Yes, Alan, just like that.
-God, please tell me you did not pay them. -Hey, I resent that.
Not all seat-fillers hook.
Well, it was very nice meeting you. I'm leaving.
Be right back. Keep drinking.
-What is wrong with you? -Me?
There is nothing wrong with me. I'm just...
I'm not interested in being set up with a woman
whose idea of chit-chat is celebrity pee-pee secrets.
-How about the other one? -No!
You sure? 'Cause there's no way you're banging her on your own.
-Why is this so important to you? -Are you kidding me?
You've been acting nuttier than rat crap in a pistachio factory.
I figured if I could coax your Johnson out of retirement,
you'd stop making invisible birthday cakes.
-What? -I can't say it more clearly than that, Alan.
Are you happy?
Anyway, I know you only deal with kids, but I didn't know where else to take him.
This is ridiculous. I don't need to be here.
I gave you a choice. Take the long shower or talk to the doctor.
Okay.
Well, if I had to guess, and that's pretty much all I do here,
I would have to say that,
based on his inappropriate outbursts and sleepwalking,
Alan is struggling with a great deal of suppressed rage.
Rage? No, I don't think so.
Come on. Your wife threw you out of your own house,
she still runs your life, you're broke,
and you only get to see your kid two days a week,
one of which you have to bring him to this rug rat exorcist.
No offense.
Okay.
Now, Alan, how do you feel about what Charlie just shared?
I think he's completely off base. Yes, I get a little frustrated sometimes,
and when Judith doesn't get her own way, she just keeps coming at me
and coming at me like a frigging steamroller.
-Crushing my spirit and my self-respect. -That's very good.
But on the other hand, she's a very good mom to Jake.
Okay. I'll tell you what. Let's pretend
that Judith is sitting in this chair.
What would you tell her right now?
Boy, I don't know. I feel a little silly talking to an empty chair.
Fair enough. Charlie, do you mind?
-Do I mind what? -Thank you.
Now, Alan, tell Judith how you really feel.
Well, Judith,
I know you're working through some of your own issues,
-sexual and otherwise, and I support that. -That's telling her, Alan.
Charlie, remember, you're Judith.
Sorry.
That's telling me, Alan.
Is this gonna take much longer?
'Cause I have to get to a massage, then a tennis lesson that he's paying for.
-Tennis? Since when do you play tennis? -I told you, but you never listen.
He never listens. Thank God his brother took him in.
-Okay, I am warning you. -You're warning me?
Okay, Alan, how are you feeling right now?
-Well, a little angry. -Really? 'Cause you don't sound angry.
Well, I am.
I just don't see any reason to make a big spectacle of myself.
Yeah, you'd rather blow off a sure thing who actually makes a living with her ass.
Meaningless, loveless sex is not the answer, Charlie.
-Meow, fit-choo! -Okay.
I am really getting tired of that.
Hey, you know what, Charlie? I don't much care for that, either.
If you like, we can schedule another session
to deal with your fear of vaginas.
Now, Alan, the reason I asked you if you were angry
is because I have yet to see any genuine expression
of what are undoubtedly some very powerful feelings.
I'm sorry, but that's just the best I can do.
Okay, well, let's try something else.
This is called a bataca.
It's heavily padded, it can't hurt anyone,
but you can use it to vent your deep, angry feelings.
You're wasting your time, Doc. He's too much of a wimp.
Attaboy, Alan! Let it go!
Good!
I'm so mad! I hate you!
-Who do you hate, Alan? Who do you hate? -Everybody!
-Good! Let it go! Keep going, Alan! -Wait a minute! Stop!
Should I stop?
Well, it's up to you. You paid for the full hour, so...
Attaboy. Hit him!
Thank you, Doctor. That was great. I feel much better.
-Good. -Yeah. We're all thrilled for you.
And by the way, about the... You know.
I'm not scared of them. I just have a healthy respect.
Fine. We'll see you both next week.
How long am I gonna have to keep coming here?