The Incident

David:Patrick, there's something wet in the bed.

Patrick:What? I didn't spill anything.

David:Well, it's not just on your side.

Patrick:Are you suggesting that I—

David:I'm not suggesting anything. I'm stating a fact.

Patrick:David, I didn't have an accident.

David:Then what would you call this?

Patrick:I don't know. Did you check if the dog got in the bed?

David:We don't have a dog, Patrick.

Patrick:David, I need to tell you something. The wetness... it was me. I was so nervous about meeting your family that I actually... I sweated through my pants.

David:Patrick, no.

Patrick:Yes. Profusely.

David:I cannot believe you told Patrick about the bed-wetting incident.

Patrick:David, it was one time, and it was years ago.

David:It doesn't matter. Now he knows I'm fundamentally broken.

Patrick:You're not broken. Everyone has embarrassing things.

David:Not like this. I'm leaving you.

Patrick:What? Over this?

David:Yes. It's the only logical solution to my shame.

Patrick:Well, I mean, if you're getting divorced, we should probably talk about the store. Like, who gets it? Because I've put a lot of work into that place.

David:Patrick, I haven't even told Patrick yet.

Patrick:Right, okay. Well, when you do, maybe lead with the store thing. Really softens the blow.

David:Does this window open?

David:Because if it does, I'm jumping out of it.

David:I'm not staying in this town for another second. I'd rather die.

Patrick:I'm just trying to help. Maybe we could look at some more affordable options?

David:Affordable? Patrick, I don't think you understand. This is a catastrophe of biblical proportions. My entire life as I know it is over.

Patrick:It's just a budget adjustment.

David:Just a budget adjustment? JUST? Do you have any idea what you're asking of me? I might have to shop at a store where they don't know my name. Where they don't greet me by my preferred pronouns. This is social death, Patrick. I'm as good as gone.

Patrick:I love you. I love you so much.

David:Well, that's... that's very sweet, but I don't think you understand what you're saying. I'm a very difficult person. I'm selfish, I'm vain, I'm judgmental...

Patrick:I know.

David:No, you don't. You really don't.

Patrick · David:So how was your seventh shower? Satisfactory, thank you so much.

Patrick:David, just talk to me. What's going on?

David:I don't want to discuss this.

Patrick:We need to talk about it.

David:There is nothing to talk about.

Patrick:David...

David:Fine. I cried during the opening credits of a baking show. Are you happy?

David:This is so embarrassing. You're going to think I'm disgusting.

Patrick:David, I don't think that at all. Look, everyone has accidents. At least now we know your body is still capable of surprises.

David:Well, I appreciate Patrick's generosity, but let's be honest, I would never let that go. I would bring it up constantly. 'Oh, you want to go out tonight? Remember when you wet the bed?'

David:Wait, is that... did you prepare for this?

Patrick:I don't know what you're talking about.

David:You bought crinkly pants. On purpose. You planned ahead for a moment where you might need to deny something loudly.

Patrick:I just like to sleep on a towel. It's very absorbent. Great for moisture.

David:Patrick, what are you doing? You're preparing the salmon like you're performing surgery.

Patrick:Well, if we're going to serve it, we should do it properly. Besides, you never know when a fish bone could become a liability.

David:It's dinner, not a courtroom.

Patrick:Exactly. Which is why we prepare it correctly.

David:So you're telling me that my dignity is worth less than a mattress?

Patrick:Well, I mean, a good mattress can last you ten years...

Alexis:So basically, a corporation is taking over my social media accounts for the day to show their followers what I do.

Moira:Oh, how wonderful! A hostile takeover of your digital presence. I had one of those once. Very traumatic. They took my wig collection and my entire skincare line.

Alexis:I mean, I basically invented Instagram. Well, not invented, but I was definitely an early adopter. I had like 50,000 followers before it was even a thing.

David:That doesn't make sense.

Alexis:Okay, well I dated a guy who worked at Facebook, so I basically knew Mark Zuckerberg. And then I dated his roommate, who was a photographer, so that's basically Instagram. And then I dated an influencer before influencers were even a thing. So yeah, I invented social media.

Moira:I don't do slapstick. I'm more of a physical comedian in the vein of Greta Garbo or a silent film ingénue who communicates through meaningful glances and the strategic placement of her hands.

Moira:Social media is just a series of portals for people to project their curated delusions onto an audience of strangers who are equally invested in maintaining their own fictional narratives.

Alexis:Okay, so I'm thinking for the crow movie, we do a really fun, engaging social media post. Something like... 'CAW CAW! This movie is gonna be LIT! Get ready to have your minds BLOWN by these sexy crows!' With like, a bunch of emojis.

David:Alexis, no.

Alexis:What? It's fun! It's relatable! Crows are having a moment!

Moira:Alexis, darling, your emoji usage is positively pedestrian. You simply must elevate your digital communication.

Alexis:Mom, I think I'm fine with emojis.

Moira:Nonsense. Here, I've composed a message using only the most sophisticated emojis. *reads from phone* Eggplant, peach, water droplets, followed by a microphone.

Alexis:Mom, no!

Moira:What? I'm simply describing last night's ratatouille. It was followed by a rather impressive vocal performance.

Moira:I once did a historical drama about the French Revolution called 'Let Them Eat Spray Tan.'

Moira:Five likes? FIVE?! Do you understand what this means? I have officially gone viral. I am a social media sensation. *This* is how it starts. Tomorrow, sponsorships. Next week, a Netflix deal. I'm already mentally preparing my acceptance speech for Influencer of the Year.

Moira:We've gone viral.

David:Mother, that's not what that means.

Moira:I don't appreciate your tone, David. I'm clearly very ill. I need to see a specialist immediately. Perhaps someone from Johns Hopkins?

Stevie:I don't know if buying another motel is the right move for me.

Roland:Are you kidding? You'd be lucky to have my business acumen rub off on you. I've made some very shrewd real estate decisions.

Stevie:You literally lost your motel.

Roland:Exactly. Strategic pivot.

Roland:Well, you know, Betty and Benny, they sound awfully similar. Reminds me of my puppet show days.

Roland:Hello, I'm Betty! And I'm Benny! We're here to teach you about proper business etiquette!

Johnny:Well, this is quite the turnout for an open house.

Stevie:Yeah, it's just us.

Johnny:Where is everyone?

Stevie:Johnny, this isn't an open house. This is my apartment. You're just here to help me move furniture.

Roland:She said she was showing at 9 o'clock.

Roland:Oh wait, she said viewing. I heard showing.

Johnny:Roland, what were you thinking? You've completely ruined everything!

Roland:Now Johnny, I can assure you, I am a man of the utmost integrity and professionalism.

Patrick:You haven't touched your tea.

David:I know. I'm just... I'm doing some reorganizing here. Very important work.

David:These color swatches need to be... rearranged by shade.

Moira:Well, a portmanteau is when you combine two words to create a new word with a blended meaning. It's a device used by the most eloquent among us.

David:I'm not going to use that word.

Moira:David, say hi to social media.

David:No.

Moira:Hashtag fiancée.

Patrick:Well, actually, it would be 'hashtag fiancé' since you're marrying a man.

David:You're not going to get any followers by filming yourself in a dark room talking to your phone.

Moira:Well, I have to start somewhere.

David:Yes, and that somewhere is not here, doing that.

Moira:Oddly specific and personal message to random username

Moira:Oh, David. I can see the tension between you two. It's like a Chekhov play, but with better lighting and a more forgiving color palette.

Moira:You're both just standing there, festering in your own emotional quicksand. It's very Russian, very bleak, very you.

Moira:Has David mentioned anything about his sleep apnea? I've been reading about it, and apparently it can be quite serious. Though I suppose with his nose job, he should be breathing better than ever.

Moira:David, I've been researching your sleep issues. Tell me, what do you eat before bed?

David:Nothing unusual. Maybe some toast.

Moira:Toast? David, I've discovered the problem. You're consuming carbohydrates after sunset. It's causing your circadian rhythms to misalign with the lunar cycles.

David:That's not how any of this works.

Moira:I've also noticed you've been having a little midnight snack of cold cuts and marshmallow fluff directly from the jar with your fingers.

David:I have not.

Moira:David, I found the jar under your bed with finger marks that match your hand span. It's oddly specific, even for you.

Moira:David, you need to stop having your little accidents in the night.

Moira:David had a condition called nocturnal enuresis.

David:Mother!

Moira:It's a medical term, David. Though I suppose you could say he was quite juiced up at night.

Moira:Well, there was the time he got a new duvet cover, and a particularly well-organized linen closet, and apparently the day they announced the Treaty of Westphalia.

Moira:David has always had a problem with his floodgates. Even as a child, the slightest bit of excitement and suddenly we're mopping up the carpet.

David:Mother!

Moira:I'm simply saying that you've never been one to contain your emotions, darling.

Patrick:Well, I think it's actually kind of romantic.

David:How is that romantic?

Patrick:Because you're so excited about marrying me that you literally can't control yourself.

Roland:You know, I've learned that life is like a box of donuts. You never know what you're gonna get, but you're always gonna want more.

Roland:Johnny had to step out, but he's very much into the bonspiel. Very into it.

Roland:He talks about bonspiels all the time. Different bonspiels.

Roland:I've been to like, five bonspiels with him. Maybe six bonspiels.

Roland:He loves the bonspiel. The bonspieling. All of it.

Stevie:I don't curl. I don't know anything about curling. And I'm not going to stand here and pretend that I do.

Alexis:Who taught you how to livestream?

Moira:A very sweet girl from Belarus. And before you ask, yes, I did try to adopt her.

Alexis:So basically, my mom accidentally broadcast David's private moment to like thousands of people on her podcast.

David:It wasn't just a moment, Alexis. It was a full four minutes of me having an emotional breakdown in the bathroom.

Alexis:Well, the listeners seemed really engaged with it. Mom's getting her best download numbers ever.

Moira:It's called 'content,' David. The people want authenticity.

David:The people want my humiliation? That's not authenticity, that's exploitation!

Alexis:Look on the bright side — you're basically famous now. People recognize you at the grocery store.

David:Yes, as 'the guy who cried about his skincare routine on a podcast.' That's exactly the legacy I was going for.

Moira:I think we've stopped recording.

Alexis:Oh my God, finally. So anyway, I've been thinking about getting a boob job.

Moira:Alexis, don't be ridiculous. You're beautiful just as you are.

Alexis:Really? Because David said they were a bit... droopy.

Moira:Well, David's an idiot.

Radio Host:Folks, we're still live. That was Moira Rose, everyone.

Alexis:I know I should be more concerned about all of this, but honestly, I'm still kind of enjoying the disaster.

Mrs. Terkstra:You look like federal agents.

David:We're not federal agents.

Mrs. Terkstra:Well, she does.

Mrs. Terkstra:Look at her. She's obviously law enforcement.

Roland:Yeah, well, Maureen and I go way back. We met at a curling bonspiel in '98. She was skip on her team, I was throwing fourth rocks. We didn't talk much that day, but our eyes met across the sheet, you know? And I thought, 'That's a woman who knows her way around a rock.'

Roland:Oh, a viewing? Well, I'd be delighted to pay my respects. What time should I arrive? And, uh, will there be refreshments?

Roland:You know, I do love a good open casket. Really gives you a chance to see what you're working with.

Moira:My social media mentor has the most ridiculous username. I mean, it's completely absurd. But I have to treat it as a formal address every time I see her. 'Hello, @SparklePrincess2847, how are you today?' It's absolutely exhausting.

Moira:We need to keep this on a need-to-know basis. David does not need to know. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, and what he does know will definitely hurt him.

Moira:We're going to treat this like a covert operation. Code names, encrypted messages, dead drops in the town square.

Moira:I've already secured the perimeter. Twyla is stationed at the front desk. Jazzagals have been notified. Radio silence on all fronts.

Johnny:I left the button factory as a young man.

Johnny:Well, technically I was a child when I left, so I suppose that makes me a child laborer.

Johnny:Well, I can see the enthusiasm just radiating off of you.

Patrick:I'm so glad you decided to stay for the evening.

David:Well, I would have left, but I'm severely dehydrated from the embarrassment, and I didn't think it would be wise to operate a vehicle in this condition.

David:Are we seriously discussing the thread count of plastic sheeting right now?

Patrick:I sleep with a humidifier.

David:That's very practical.

David:I look absolutely ridiculous.

Patrick:You do.

David:And yet...

Patrick:And yet, I'm still attracted to you.

David:That's very sweet.

David:Patrick, I love you. I love you so much that I'm willing to overlook the fact that you're currently dressed like a Victorian-era deep-sea diver having an asthma attack.

Patrick:David, give me your phone.

David:What? Why?

Patrick:Just trust me. Give it to me.

David:Patrick, it's 11 PM. What is happening right now?

Patrick:There's something on Twitter that you don't need to see before bed.

David:Oh my God, what did I do?

Patrick:Nothing! You did nothing. But the internet did something, and you're not looking at it until morning.

David:Patrick, you're scaring me.

Patrick:That's the point. Now go to sleep.

Moira:Miss CherryBus, suggested I try my hand at creating a living stream.

Alexis:Okay, David can never, ever find out about this. I am actually afraid that he will never sleep again.

Alexis:So all we need to do is keep David off the internet for like, 24 hours, or until a celebrity says something wrong, which could be any minute.

Alexis · Moira:It's kind of cute, though. / Alexis. / Yes.

Johnny:Same reason I left the button factory when I was a young man. That, and the fact that working conditions weren't exactly safe for a ten-year-old.

Johnny:I'm gonna miss that enthusiasm.

Patrick · David:I'm so glad you decided to stay. / Well, there's literally no liquid left in my body, so.

David:Taking that off first thing tomorrow. Huh!

David · Patrick:I wonder how long my mom lasted on the internets. / Not long, I don't think.

Patrick · David:You know, you were smart to get off of there. / Mhmm. I was curious to see what kinds of things she was posting throughout the day, though. / Yeah, nothing of note.

Patrick · David:Hey, let's talk about something else. Sure, um... what's the thread count on this plastic?

Patrick:Okay, would it help if I were to share something private and embarrassing with you?

Patrick:Okay, I only put this in when you're not around. [Patrick removes a mouthguard]

David · Patrick:Also, you look very beautiful. / Aw, thank you.

Patrick · David:How about... now? [Patrick puts on a large nose breathing apparatus] / My God! This is my nose thing, and it just helps me breathe better.

David · Patrick:I have never been more attracted to you. / Mm, same.

David · Patrick:Ronnie's texting me a link to something? / Okay, put it away, David. It's bedtime.