The snap, the kick is up, and it is good! It is good!
- Man. - Okay, well, that's the game.
Dad, can I have my allowance?
Sure. Here.
Thanks. Here.
Pleasure doing business with you.
You're taking my son's allowance on a football bet?
Hey, when he wins, I pay off. You know, minus the vig.
Minus the vig. You're charging him for the privilege of making a bet?
That's what the vig is, Dad.
Face it. He's not gonna learn this stuff in school.
I don't care. Give him his allowance back.
Fine.
You get no allowance. That's your punishment for gambling.
- Told you he'd do that. - Yeah, you did.
Pleasure doing business with you.
Hey, listen. After you drop him off at his mom's house tonight, do me a favor?
- Just make yourself scarce, okay? - What's her name?
Or is it too early to ask?
It's not a girl. I'm just having friends over.
Oh, poker? Oh, can I play?
- I'm better than I used to be. - It's not poker.
Wait. A flush beats a straight...
...and a full boat beats a flush, right? - Right...
A full house and a full boat are the same...
...so I won't say "full houseboat" anymore.
- It's not poker, Alan. - Then what's going on?
I'm just having some friends over to smoke cigars...
...sample some fine single-malt Scotch and, you know, talk.
I enjoy all those things. Well, Scotch makes me a little gassy.
But I'll take a Beano and I'm good to go.
That's nice, but I don't think you'd be comfortable.
- Why not? - Because we talk about personal things.
- You mean like a support group? - No, no, no. It's not a support group.
It's just guys who get together to talk about their lives.
- That's a support group. - No, it's not.
Okay, it's not.
It's not.
Got it. So why can't I come?
Because these men are my friends.
There's a level of trust and confidentiality.
- I'm your friend. - No, you're my brother.
Wait a minute. You don't consider me a friend?
It's not up to me.
A friend is someone you choose. A brother is someone you get.
- Excuse me? - There's no choice involved.
Your dad just wakes you up in the night and says:
"Your mom wasn't really fat and this isn't your room anymore."
So all these years, I've just been an intruder to you?
An inconvenience? A burden?
Well, sure. You can spin it that way.
You know, I had no idea you felt this way.
I am very, very hurt.
Okay.
But you'll still make yourself scarce, right?
- Bye, Uncle Charlie. - See you, buddy.
- Oh, he's your buddy? - Alan, don't start.
How is he your buddy? You didn't choose him.
- I chose to let him stay here. - You chose to let me stay here too.
No. I chose him, I got you.
You know, there are times I just loathe you.
And yet you're surprised I don't consider you a friend.
Okay, have your real friends to your little "support group."
- It is not... - It is a support group!
It's a support group for weak, rudderless men.
And I wouldn't be a part of it if you begged me.
Okay, bye.
Dad, check this out. You can pick your friends...
...you can pick your nose, but you can't pick your friend's nose.
- You know who told me that? - I can guess.
Uncle Charlie. And you know why it's funny? Because it's true.
Yeah, yeah. Have a nice week, Jake.
Bye, Dad. Hi, Mom. Can I have my allowance?
I missed you too, sweetie.
- Thanks for dropping him by. - Judith, hold on.
Do you consider us friends?
I consider you my ex-husband.
I know. But putting aside for the moment...
...our loveless marriage and messy divorce...
...we always had a certain camaraderie, am I right?
Can we talk some other time? I'm having people over for dinner.
Oh, really? Anybody I know?
- Sandra and Howard. - Oh, no kidding. Can I say hello?
- I'd rather you didn't. - Why not?
Sandra and Howard are my friends too. In fact, I introduced them to you.
Well, why don't you call them and invite them to your house.
This is my house. Those were my friends.
The fact is, you're having my friends for dinner in my house.
Yes, Alan, that is exactly what's happening.
Well, when I'm right, I'm right.
I've got something I wanna talk about, but it's gotta stay in this room.
Everything stays in the room.
Yeah, sure, Judas. Does that include veiled references...
...in one of your wise-ass songs?
- I said sorry about that. - Too little, too late.
We have to go through this every time we get together?
- It's water under the bridge. - Thank you.
It wouldn't have killed you to thank him in your Grammy speech.
That I would've done, but, you know, Bacharach, he just went on so long.
Well, get on with it.
All right. How do I say this?
Do any of you get up in the middle of the night to pee?
- Sure. - Occasionally.
Sometimes, I don't even get up.
This is what I can't write songs about?
Oh, drat.
All right, look. It's not about peeing, per se.
It's about getting older.
I'm laying in bed with my wife.
She looks beautiful, sexy.
All I wanna do is finish my Corn Pops and go to sleep.
What are you doing?
Shopping list. You know, just a shopping list.
So you're saying the old flag's at half-mast?
No, the old flag is fine.
And I'd rather not refer to it as an old flag, if you don't mind.
No, my point is, it's about shifting priorities or something.
Flag, drag, hag.
I will knock your glasses through your eyeballs. I will do it.
Let me tell you something, fellas.
It doesn't matter what the calendar says, you're as old as you feel.
Me, I feel...
...like...
...boiled crap.
- Hello. - Oh, man.
I'm sorry, guys. It's my brother.
We agreed you weren't gonna be here.
Don't worry, I just need my phone book.
- Is that...? - Yes.
- And that...? - Yeah.
And that?
He used to be. Not anymore.
Him I don't recognize.
He's our bookie.
You can have your bookie, but not me?
Bookies, like friends, are chosen.
Okay. Okay, fine. I'm sorry to interrupt.
I need my address book so I can call one of my friends.
They don't care. Hurry up and get out.
Sounds like sex with my ex-wife.
I don't know if Charlie told you, but I'm recently divorced...
...and it's been kind of a rough road.
- Here's your phone book. - Thank you.
Of course, I guess in hindsight, I should have seen it coming, but...
- I'm gonna count to three. - Bye.
Sorry about that. He's bent out of shape because I told him...
...he couldn't be part of the group. - Why not?
You just saw him, didn't you? Trust me, he doesn't get any better.
I mean, he actually thinks this is a support group.
This is a support group, Charlie.
You're the only one who's pretending it's about Scotch and cigars.
Whatever kind of group it is, we have rules about new guys joining.
Well, but he's your brother.
He's obviously going through a rough time.
Seems like you should be more supportive, pal.
Hey, I support him plenty.
I share my home with him. I share my food with him.
I moved my foosball table so he could park in my garage.
What more do you people want from me?
Let me tell you something about sharing, kid.
Sharing is a two-way street.
When you share with another human being...
...you always get back more than you gave.
Assuming that you're smart enough to share with somebody...
...that's got more stuff than you had in the beginning.
Hey, Dick, it's Alan. How's it going, buddy?
Oh, good, good.
Listen. You maybe wanna catch a movie tonight?
Oh, really? You and Roz are at Judith's too. Interesting.
So in addition to my house, half my money, and my self-esteem...
...Judith got custody of all my friends.
No, no, no, I don't wanna take it up with her. I...
Hi, Judith.
No, no. I'm not trying to ruin your party.
In fact, I've got a little party of my own.
Alan, come back to bed. I'm cold.
Be right there, baby.
I gotta go, Judith. Bye.
Well, that's a new personal low.
You know, as long as we're talking about getting older...
...I was at this club the other night, window-shopping.
I realize I'm the oldest guy in the bar.
I mean, I still look good.
But I'm competing for women with guys who are way younger.
I gotta tell you, I felt kind of depressed, like maybe my best days are behind me.
Oh, you're breaking my heart.
There's maybe 11 women in this city who haven't saluted his old flag.
We should talk about Charlie and his brother.
What? Why?
We've been meeting all these years and I never even knew you had a brother.
I didn't see that it was relevant.
Let me tell you something about relevant.
The root of the word relevant is "rel"...
...which is also the root of the word "relative."
Your brother is your relative, ergo, your brother is relevant.
What?
Another "rel" word is "relapse."
But I'll wait my turn.
Hi. Is this Doug Ziskin?
Yeah, yeah. Hey, Doug, it's Alan Harper.
I'm your chiropractor. But I'm calling as a friend.
Well, I'd like to think we are.
Forget it. Sorry I woke you.
Hey, neighbor. What are you doing out here all by your Ionesome?
Charlie's got some friends over and I thought I'd give him some space.
Oh, yeah. His support group.
He claims it's not a support group.
Oh, please. He also claims he's not in love with me.
What do you want, Rose?
Nothing. I was just sitting over there in Charlie's car...
...and thought you might like some company.
From the minute they brought him from the hospital...
...everything was about the baby.
"Don't wake the baby. Don't tease the baby. Don't paint the baby."
Then when he starts growing up, it gets worse.
Everything he does, I get blamed for.
He wakes up one morning with no hair and one eyebrow, it's my fault.
They find him tied to a street lamp...
...and big surprise, everybody's looking at me.
Charlie, you need to stop resenting your brother just for being born.
Hey, I don't resent him for being born...
...but he abused the privilege.
Even now, with you guys.
I jumped through hoops to get into this group.
I had to be recommended, then I had to get to know you guys.
Now Alan thinks he can waltz right in because he's my little brother?
It's not fair.
Let me tell you something about fair.
What?
Charlie, you know in your heart the right thing to do.
Fine. You want him so bad, I'll get him.
You know, Sean never speaks about his siblings.
All right, back off, Mary Poppins.
You're working on my last nerve.
Believe me, Alan, I understand how hurtful it is to be rejected by Charlie.
And I found that the only way to get through it is to just love him more.
That, and every so often, sneak into his bedroom and try on his underwear.
Helpful tip.
Hello.
- Oh, hello, Charlie. - Yeah, listen. I've been thinking.
Why don't you take a Beano and come back to the house and join the group.
Oh, really? What changed your mind?
I had a small stroke. What difference does it make? Get your ass back here.
Well, did it occur to you that I might be already otherwise engaged?
- No. - Well, I am.
It would be inconvenient for me to return right now.
Why? Where are you?
Where am I? Well, that's none of your business.
Are you in the garage?
Oh, please. What on earth would I be doing in the garage?
Cut it out, Rose.
You're being silly, Alan. Charlie is reaching out to you.
Yeah, right. Last time he reached out...
...I wound up tied to a street lamp on Wilshire Boulevard.
All right. Are you gonna come back inside...
...or do I have to drag you in by your big, flappy monkey ears?
Listen to him, Alan. He's begging.
No, thank you, Charlie. I am quite happy chatting out here with Rose.
Okay. I tried to be the loving brother, you sulky little weasel.
That really wasn't necessary, Alan.
Yes, it was. You're my friend.
And friends don't just abandon friends because something better comes along.
Then this might sting a bit.
I have something else to do and I'm pretty sure it's better.
All right, I asked him nicely. He said no. Let's move on.
Coop, what's up with your fixation on women who resemble Tobey Maguire?
I think I finally got over that one. I went to see Spider-Man 2. Nothing.
Hi, everybody. Thanks for the invite.
I know I'm the new guy.
So I'll hang back and try not to disrupt the flow.
So is there any protocols I need to know about?
Any customs, traditions, a talking stick?
No, there's no talking stick.
But there is a "shut the hell up" shoe.
Okey-doke. As you were.
All right, I've got something I wanna share.
The panic attacks have come back, and I just don't understand it.
Everything is great. My career, my marriage.
I should be on cloud nine and instead of which...
...I've got this free-floating anxiety and feeling of impending doom.
And the diarrhea.
Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that my panic attacks come with diarrhea.
First the clammy hands, and then the nausea, and then the aforementioned...
...you know. Sorry.
I changed my mind. I want him gone.
Can we shave his head and fill his mouth with hair first?
Let me tell you something about hair.
The clammy hands, that's how it starts.
Wait a minute. You can't just kick him out like that.
You didn't want him here in the first place.
But I'm his brother. It's my right to reject him.
You guys wanted him. Now that he's here, cut him a little slack.
Can't you see? He doesn't fit in here.
Of course not. He doesn't fit in anywhere.
He's a weird little guy who makes phone calls from the garage.
It's not his fault.
His big brother didn't look after him, didn't teach him anything.
I'm trying to make up for it with his son...
...but this annoying little ship has sailed.
Thank you, Charlie. You can stop now.
No, I got your back. I want this twerp in the group.
A problem with that is a problem with me.
Oh, now you've got my back?
- What? - A little late, don't you think?
Alan, I'm defending you.
And I'm asking where you've been for the past 35 years.
Let me tell you what it was like growing up.
Un-freaking-believable.
What it was like to look up to... No, to worship someone...
...who on two occasions tried to trade you for an underwater flashlight.
It wasn't for keeps.
No, no, no. It's my turn now, Charlie.
All I ever wanted was his approval, his friendship.
And all I ever got was my underwear yanked up to the base of my skull.
And the sad part is that I looked forward to the wedgies...
...because it was the only form of love that I could get from him.
- That is sad, Charlie. - It's terrible.
Charlie, don't you think there's something you have to say to your brother?
Yeah.
Come here, buddy.
Okay, buddy.
Here's the gag
In the words of some wag
She loves my flag
Rally round the flag
Wow, Elvis, that was beautiful.
But, you know, in all honesty...
...I really loved your earlier, you know, angrier stuff.
You know, "Pump It Up." Now, that was a song.
I gave you that.
Oh, and while we're on the subject, Sean...
...why don't you do funny stuff like you used to?
I mean, Fast Times ruled, man.
Come on, do a little Spicoli for us.
Guys, this isn't funny.
Clammy hands. Nausea.
Guys?
Hey, guys?
Guys?