"Come along, children." "Don't dawdle." "Nina, what's going on?" "Well, these are my children, Estee and Vidal." "Since when?" "Since I'm getting audited today." "They think they're here for a movie audition." "Okay, children, just run along and play." "Help yourself to coffee." "You're getting audited?" "You should have used my guy." "He's a creepy little weasel who knows every loophole and gets a sexual thrill out of cheating the feds." "Who is he?" "Me." "Are you really that good?" "Last year, the government paid me 20 grand not to grow corn." "You're hired." "Not again." "What is that?" "Jack got halfway through his memoirs and got writer's block, so he's been bouncing that ball against the wall for three days." "Ah, that's irritating." "That's nothing." "You missed what will forever be known as "Banjo Thursday."" "which was immediately followed by "Missing-banjo Friday."" "Hey." "Hey." "You're back." "Oh." "I hear your dad's driving you nuts." "Not for long." "I've got the solution." "Great." "Sneak up behind him and make it one clean blow." "Still blocked?" "I'm going nuts." "Well... maybe this will help." "Tah-dah." "I don't believe it." "My old royal." "Surefire cure for writer's block." "I hope so, because I can't find my banjo." "Okay..." "Here we go." "Ready to write." "Mm-hmm." "Nothing." "Okay." "Well, one step at a time." "Where are you stuck?" "1969." "Okay." "What happened that year?" "Well, let's see..." "I slept with three of the gold diggers." "Okay, fine." "After that?" "I took a nap." "Even when you're that young" "Dad!" "There must be something else." "Well, it was the year Herb and I started Blush." "Wait a minute." "Who's Herb?" "Herb Stanton, my old partner." "We worked at the Times together." "We were fishing buddies." "So what happened to Herb?" "Well, he kind of left after the first issue." "Kind of how come?" "I don't know." "I guess we were better friends than partners, so it was, uh, you know, decided that, uh, Herb would just move on." "And who decided that?" "So many years ago." "Who remembers things like that?" "I believe your conscience." "That's why you're stuck in 1969, the year you tossed him aside." "I didn't toss him aside." "I gave him a few grand." "And back then, a few grand was worth several grand." "And now you're at the top, and where's Herb?" "Well, he's in my heart." "Dad, you feel guilty because you screwed over your business partner." "I didn't screw over anyone." "Now, leave me alone so I can start Herbing- writing." "Go away!" "You have a lot of deductions here, Ms. Van Horn." "Thank you." "And one of the write-offs is for something called a "buttock-lift?"" "Yes." "And it's listed under travel expenses." "It is further north than it was." "I'd better jump in here." "Ms. Hanson, let me tell you why I'm proud to be an American." "First of all, consider the alternatives." "Secondly, I believe America's a place where a person can't be judged by a bunch of numbers on a form." "And if you think, for one second," "I'm gonna let you intimidate this poor old woman with your Gestapo- oh, yeah, Gestapo- scare tactics, then you have obviously never crossed paths with Dennis Finch." "Finch." "That's F-I-N-C" "No, no!" "Gotta go!" "Oh, hello." "Uh, Elliott Dimauro, meet Janet Hanson from the IRS." "Oh, that's a pretty pin." "Oh, thanks." "Nina, take a look at these test shots." "I'm sorry, but this hat looks ridiculous." "Oh, no, no, it's totally happening." "It won't be ridiculous until next month." "Well, that's why you make the big bucks." "No, I don't." "See ya." "Bye." "I should mention that I donate a lot of money toward finding a cure for aging." "Uh, would you just excuse me for a moment?" "She wants you." "Pardon?" "The tax lady, she wants you." "Go ask her out." "I don't want to ask her out." "I don't even know her." "Well, come on, Elliott." "You sleep with models without knowing their last names." "Most of them don't have last names." "Oh, come on, Elliott, just take her out to dinner and woo her a little." "Maybe she'll go easy on me." "That's not going to work." "Come on." "I'm in big trouble, Elliott." "Nina, is this really necessary?" "Ms. Van Horn, what is this?" "Oh, god, I think she's onto that church I set up." "Morning, Sam." "Any good mail today?" "I'm not Sam." "No, you're sure not." "Been a while, Jack." "Yeah." "Sure has." "You got rid of the muttonchops, huh?" "How have you been, Herb?" "Well, great." "This is a beautiful shop you've got." "Thanks." "So what brings you here?" "Well, you know, I was in town on business, and I thought I'd just poke my head in." "You're in Wickston, Connecticut on business?" "That's right." "Wickston, population 114?" "Sure." "Wickston, whose largest employer is Mrs. Jennings with her round-the-clock nurses?" "All right." "All right, I came here to see you." "Really?" "Why?" "Because, Herb..." "I feel bad about what happened between us, about how Blush went on to become a big success and how... you weren't a part of that." "What, are you still thinking about that?" "It was 30 years ago." "I'm fine." "Really?" "Of course." "Let me ask you something, Jack." "What gets you up out of bed every morning?" "I'm 60 years old." "What do you think?" "With me... well, after that..." "I get up because I love my life." "I make toys with my own two hands, toys that bring joy to little children." "I'm probably the happiest man in the whole world, and for that, I thank you." "Wow." "That's fantastic, Herb." "I can't tell you what a relief it is to know that you don't hold a grudge." "Oh, please." "Life's too short." "You know, I've got a baby daughter now." "You do?" "You old dog." "And she'd just love one of your beautiful toys." "I think I've gotta buy that choo-choo there." "Certainly." "Topnotch choice." "So... what do I owe you?" "Okay, one choo-choo train." "That'll be $12 million." "Excuse me?" "$12 million, you backstabbing son of a bitch!" "But, Herb, I thought" "Who cares what you thought?" "You screwed me, Jack!" "We were supposed to be a team." "We were gonna conquer the world." "Now I'm a freakin' toy maker!" "Herb, calm down." "You calm down!" "You ruined the last 30 years of my life, and nothing you do can make that better!" "But, Herb, I" "Nothing!" "Everyone say hi to our new managing editor." "I'm not wearing my glasses." "Are they happy?" "Herb, meet our fashion editor, Nina Van Horn." "Hi." "Holy smokes." "You're pretty." "Oh." "I like him." "Our assistant, Dennis Finch." ""Our" assistant?" "That's right, Dennis." "Treat Herb the way you would me." "Gotcha." "No, sir, those pants don't make your butt look big." "And, of course, my daughter, Maya." "Holy smokes." "You're pretty too." "Hi, Herb." "What do you do here?" "Dad made me articles editor." "Oh." "I hope you got that in writing." "I'm kidding, of course." "Herb, why don't you throw your stuff in my office?" "Oh, yeah." "I want to find a cool, dry place for my banana." "Morning." "There you are." "So how was your date with the IRS lady?" "Oh, you owe me." "I dropped her off 14 hours ago." "I'm still bored." "But you did sleep with her, right?" "Close." "I nodded off during dessert." "Oh, that's a nice office, Jack." "It's twice as big as the Wickston Museum of Natural History." "Elliott, I'd like you to meet Herb Stanton, our new managing editor." "Really?" "Elliott Dimauro, our head photographer." "I, uh-Jack told me about you on the ride down." "Oh." "What did he say?" "That-that you were the head photographer." "So, let's get this meeting started." "Herb, where would you like to sit?" "Sit?" "Uh, hmm..." "Uh, let's see." "Maybe-no." "How about-uh, well..." "How about this one?" "Sure." "Sure." "Okay." "Item one:" "new story ideas." "I think we should do an exposé on the big business of illegal fashion knockoffs." "Interesting." "Herb, what do you think?" "What?" "Oh, um, uh, um... well, I, uh, um, um..." "Should I book you a flight to Tibet, Herb?" "Finch, be nice." "Maybe Herb just wants to think it through a little more." "Yes." "More thought." "Yes." "Item 2:" "our next theme issue, eveningwear or beachwear?" "Ah." "Uh, Herb, your take on this?" "Wh-me?" "Uh, uh, why, evening, beach, be-I think- I think we should go- well, on the other hand, uh, um..." "One or the other, Herb!" "There's no wrong answer!" "Take it easy, buddy." "Take it easy." "Herb, uh, maybe more thought on that one?" "Yes, more thought." "More thought." "Whoa." "Um, sorry, I've gotta go." "They're locking the pages today, and I still need a sidebar for that piece on the divorce rate." "Hey!" "Take Herb." "You guys can pound it out together." "It'll be just like old times, except you're gonna be working with a prettier Gallo this time." "Okay with you, Maya?" "Sure." "Sounds fun." "Good with you, Herb?" "Uh, yeah, w-well, whatever, uh, if you" "Just go!" "So, I've run the numbers twice, and, Ms. Van Horn, you owe us some money." "Listen to me." "I cannot go to jail." "I couldn't bear the humiliation of how few cigarettes I'm worth." "The total comes to $52.28." "What?" "Look, there are a lot of red flags" "I could pursue here, but, frankly, I don't have time." "I'm in love." "I'm so happy." "I mean, for you." "Oh, Elliott, thank you." "Everything worked out." "Oh." "So I'm off the hook with Janet?" "Children, mommy needs you!" "Oh, uh, Elliott, I wanted to tell you what a great time I had last night." "Oh, me too." "And I was wondering if you'd like to go away with me this weekend?" "My office confiscated a ski lodge." "Oh, gosh, that's very flattering" "I was supposed to go away with my boyfriend, but he broke up with me." "Well, that's his loss." "I'll say." "I froze his assets and put a lien on his salary." "Teach him to stand me up on the third date." "Let's hit the slopes!" "So, do you think we should start by summarizing the article or dive right in to the readers' poll?" "Ooh." "Uh, summarize or dive, or summarize or dive-dive or summa- what time is it?" "Uh, 10 after 3:00." "And what time is this due?" "5:00." "5:00 today?" "Calm down." "We'll make it." "Uh." "Well, that's what Jack always used to say." "Look, this is no big deal." "All we need is two little paragraphs." "Good God, I can't work with all this chaos." "What chaos?" "Now, ahem, we're just going to be very still... and very thoughtful... and just let this thing come." "Okay, but, um, I" "Shh, shh." "Trust me." "What time is it now?" "Um, Herb, you're wearing a watch." "Uh, no, this is a compass." "I get turned around in fog." "Herb, maybe I should do this alone." "But we're a team." "Jack said so." "I know, but maybe..." "Look, so I'm having first-day jitters." "There's a lot to get used to- you know, this crazy pace, the touch-tone phones." "I'm sorry." "Now, listen, we're both going to take a deep breath..." "We're gonna put our heads together, and we're gonna bang this baby out." "Are you with me?" "I'm with you." "Good." "Now, what time is it?" "Surprise." "Hi." "I was, uh, nearby, and, uh, how about dinner?" "Oh, um, I can't." "Oh, why not?" "Janet, I have something to tell you, and you're not going to like it." "This is very scary for me to say, and please, please don't be mad." "I can't date you." "Oh, God." "You're gay." "No." "I mean, yes." "I knew it." "You knew it?" "I mean, there you go." "I'm gay, through and through." "In fact, I'm unusually gay, even my gay friends say so." "Why did you ask me out?" "Because that's how sexy you are." "You had me all turned around." "Elliott, I appreciate your honesty, and I can't pretend I'm not disappointed." "Oh, I'm sorry." "You are so sweet and cute and" "Wait!" "You would be perfect for Mitchell." "Mitchell?" "Who-who's Mitchell?" "My boss." "He's director of the Criminal Fraud Division for the entire east coast." "Oh." "You know, I don't really think I'm ready" "Trust me." "You'll love him." "In fact, I won't take no for an answer." "I'm going to give him your number." "But- Don't worry." "He's perfect for you." "And talk about unusually gay." "Oh, man." "Talk about getting stuck by the IRS." "We have to talk." "Maya, I can't believe it, but I'm still blocked." "I've been sitting here for hours in front of this typewriter, and nothing- it's driving me crazy." "Well, this is not gonna make your day any better, and I hate to say it, because he's so sweet, but you've got to get rid of Herb." "No, no, no." "I kicked him out once." "I'm not gonna do it again." "He and I are a team, a partnership joined at the hip." "Now just take him to the zoo or something." "Look, I see why you let him go." "He is completely wrong for this kind of work." "He would have dragged the whole magazine down." "I know." "I" " I just thought..." "I don't know what I thought." "Herb." "I'm working on it!" "That's all right, Herb." "Just come into my office." "Poor guy, he's gonna kill me." "Don't worry." "He'll never be able to choose a weapon." "Hey, old buddy." "Herb, sit down." "Let's have a chat." "About what?" "About... your assignment." "I have something more important." "We're starting a Blush charity for children, and we're gonna need Christmas presents for them." "I was thinking choo-choo trains, say 50." "What do you think?" "Holy smokes." "I couldn't possibly make 50 trains by Christmas." "Hey, I never said this Christmas." "Those kids have nothing but time." "You head back to Wickston pronto." "Get on this." "It's a top priority." "Jack, I know what you're trying to do." "No, you don't." "No one ever does." "You don't have to pretend." "I know it's not working out." "I guess, all these years, uh, it was easier to be mad at you than to admit the truth." "I stink at the magazine business." "Oh, no, you don't." "Sure, I do." "Between you and me, I'm glad." "I mean, deadlines, fax machines, that unusually gay photographer..." "Who needs it?" "I" " I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks for making me realize that my life doesn't suck." "I'm just delighted, Herb." "Yeah." "Well... back to Wickston." "You know, Herb, I was thinking maybe we could get together some time." "Wow." "That-that would be great." "Hey, you know what I'd love to do?" "Hit the old fishing hole." "Yeah, so would I, but it's a Home Depot now." "No-no problem." "We can go to my place." "I've got a cabin up on Lake George, 20-foot Boston Whaler, the whole nine yards." "Son of a bitch." "Week from Saturday?" "You're on." "I'll get you a ride." "Dennis!" "Goodbye, Herb." "Goodbye, sweetie." "I'm sorry to leave you in the lurch on that article." "Dennis, I need you to drive Herb back to Connecticut." "Oh, boy." "Traffic is probably terrible." "Uh, we should take the Merrit Parkway." "Fine." "Or maybe I-95." "Uh-oh." "Let me think." "If we take the, uh" "Think about this:" "you wanna ride in the front seat or the trunk?" "Merrit Parkway." "You're okay?" "Huh?" "Nothing." "* Life keeps bringing' me Back to you *" "* Keeps bringing' me home *" "* It don't matter What I'm gonna do *" "* 'Cause it's got A mind of its own *" "* Whoa *" "* Life keeps bringing' me Back to you *" "* Yeah **"