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Good Advice (2001)
Oh my god, don't do that.
Don't do... this? Yes! Don't do that some more. Tell me. Or I won't do this. Okay. All I know is he's in D.C. Buying some company. Don't stop! No. I'm stopping. Ryan, if I wanted to talk business I'd have sex with my husband. Which company? Hi, Donald and Veronica can't come... Veronica? It's me. - My god, it's Donald! - Pick it up. Call me when you get back. - Hi, sweetie. - Hey, baby. I was about to hang up. Whatcha doing? Uh... having my nails done. I wanted to tell you my plane's landing in an hour. I'm gonna play a quick 18, - then we'll go to dinner, okay? - Okay. Listen, sweetie, I gotta run. My manicurist is givin' me dirty looks. - I'll see you tonight. - All right, talk to you then. I gotta run, too. Why?! We have all afternoon. Donald's playing golf. I know. I'm playing with him. What?! Let's head for long island. Beautiful shot! 200 yards. Right at the flag. Keep your compliments coming, and your balls in the rough. I'll do my worst, sir. Where'd you learn to swing like that? Business school. How'd things go in D.C.? After our little meeting, and the half a million additional shares I purchased, we have full cooperation from the Jasco Pharmaceuticals Board. Sir, that much stock'll put you over the limit. Not if you don't buy it in your own name. Sounds like Simpson Publishing's involved in a merger. Watch CNBC tomorrow morning. Cindy, what do you say we get drinks tonight? Never. Great, rain check it is, then. Ryan Turner's on line one. Hey, gorgeous. Hey, honey. What are you doing? You... in about eight hours. Oh, Ryan, you are so romantic. - I know. - Are we still on for dinner? Yes, we are. I'll meet you there at 8:00. And wait till you see what I have planned for dessert. Oooh, I'll bring the cherry. - I wish. - Bye. I understand the possibility of breaking a nail is looming over every word, but your deadline is... now. Okay! Jeez! Why does everybody want something from me? You write an advice column? I have problems too, you know. Yes, I know. I mean, listen to this letter, "Dear Cindy, I want to go back to school, but my husband is against it. What should I do?" I mean, this woman is such a mess. So what did you tell her? "Why do you need school? You have a husband. If you want to feel better about yourself, do charity work. Go build hairdo's for the homeless, better yet, go get your own hair done." This woman pours her heart out to you, and you give her beauty tips? What's wrong here? I haven't given you any. Cindy, this is a quality newspaper. Page, we're not friends, so I can be honest with you. My grandmother's legs had better circulation than this "quality" newspaper. no one even buys it. Then I would be happy to buy out your contract. I wish! But we both know you're flat... broke. So you'll just have to let me do what I do. With the style, grace, and femininity I do it with. I love it when you sing, honey, it really turns me on. Really? ha ha. where do you want to go shopping? Whoa! We're walking here! Huh? She's just like my therapist. Turning everything around making it seem like - I'm the one with the problem. - Then quit. You said nobody reads your column anyways. I can't just quit. It's not like I have a husband to take care of me. So what's with the champagne? I got information from Donald Simpson about a merger. It'll make my clients... and me... a fortune. If Simpson told you, isn't that illegal? No. Donald would never risk an S.E.C. violation. I overheard him and his lawyers. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. I'm even margining my own portfolio. - It's buying on credit. - They don't even give you a card. - You checked this out? - Of course. Simpson himself bought stock... in his wife's maiden name. - Which stock? - Jasco Pharmaceuticals. They're developing some anti-aging drug. When it hits the shelves, the stock could jump 1000%. You could still get in. Nnnn... Nnn-no! Forget it. We'll handle anti-aging the old fashioned way. Surgery! Right, honey? Yeah. Whatever. A toast! Come on. To Kathy's new ass, Barry's successful practice, and Ryan, becoming a rich partner, so we can enjoy the life we deserve and more. And more. And more! and more! I gotta go. Where are you going? Come back here. Ryan, I love you. I know. But I've got to go to work. It's 3:00 a.m. I've got to call Tokyo before they close. Feel free to sleep in. Sleep in? How about I move in? I'm serious. We'd get to see so much more of each other. I'm ready to have a doorman in my life. I like the way things are. What would you say if I told you I'd leave you if you didn't let me? I'd say you were lying. Oh really? See? Ryan, you know me so well. We belong together. We are together. Walt? Good morning, Mr. Turner. You're a doorman, Walt. How good could it possibly be? Thank you, sir. Yo, bud. You got a dollar? Yeah, millions of them. Me, too. Hi, Ryan Turner-san. Good to hear from you again. Asahi, Hakashiro-san. I have got a very lucrative investment you need to jump on immediately. You gonna give bowie that tidbit as well? Michael, you know you're my favorite client. Bowie's only my favorite client when I'm on the phone with him. Well, he does sell more records than me. doesn't he, Ryan? Therefore, I want to have one more share than him. Okay, man? - Excellent. - Thank you, Ryan. Jasco will be up at least 30 points before noon. How in the hell could you know that? I can't tell you how I know... Mrs. Ellis is on line two. Hello, Marlene. I want Jasco... good choice. Excellent choice. - Don't thank me now. - But I want to. If you're on this side of the world, let's get together. - It's a date. - All righty. Are you in or out? All right, put me down for 10,000 shares, market price. You folks at beacon trade never let me down before. Done. Rumors of a merger fueled an early morning explosion of Jasco Pharmaceutical Stock, but now trading has been halted because a news conference has been called. Yes... yes! No, I don't know why he would have done that. I'm going to look into it. I'm on top of that, okay? Thank you for calling. Morning, sir. Coffee? About five hours ago. File these buy orders, and get my phone sheet, please. Ted wants to see you. You have the audacity to call Amir, my client, at 5:00 a.m.? Carl, while you were sleeping at 5:00 a.m. In your moderately attractive suburban home, with your moderately attractive suburban wife, assuring that my future would look nothing like yours. And by the way, it was afternoon in Kuwait. Very impressive numbers this month, Ryan. Thank you, sir. Wait till you see the deal I'm working on now. You keep this up and I can see a partnership. I guess we have the same vision. Excuse me. Ryan, Donald Simpson's holding a press conference. Yes. Watch this, sir. This day is going to change my life. Jasco was riding a tide of speculation, but the press conference that just wrapped up turned out to be less than positive. So in the final analysis we concluded that the merger was not to our fiscal advantage. Simpson publishing has voted to focus on our core interest, which is the newspaper business. What? What? With trading halted, Jasco pharmaceuticals announced stunning news that it has defaulted on interest payments on its debt, and will file for bankruptcy. It's stock is expected to plummet when trading resumes. You were right, Turner. Jasco stocks were gonna explode. Kaboom! Sir... sir, you're not allowed in there. You're not allowed in there. What the hell's going on? Turner, what are you doing? Yesterday, you said you were acquiring Jasco. Oh, Ryan, Ryan. Oh my god. You didn't use that inside information, did you? Yes, I did. - Did you lose a lot? - A fucking fortune. Client's money. My own. Ohhh! Tsk, tsk, tsk. Ryan... Ryan. You screwed my wife. I screwed you back. You would undermine your own merger, just for retribution? Are you insane? There's no stronger motivation than money, or revenge. I already have money. Have a good day. We just lost half of our top clients, Ryan. Why the hell did you do this? I was set up. It was false information. The S.E.C. called. You think they give a shit about the fact that you were set up? - This was all legal. - What about due diligence? We just lost $52 million of our clients' money. For what? A tip? My source was Donald Simpson himself. Oh, great. Well, I guess you can ask him for a job. No, wait, wait, wait... It's the fucking S.E.C.! If we keep you on it's going to look like we condone insider trading. I'm sorry. Don't... Don't do this, please. I margined my own account. Aww. Well. I guess you made two stupid mistakes then. I can't believe this is happening to me. Okay, okay. this changes my plans completely. But I'm an adapter. I can make myself believe that this is worse for you than it is for me. I just have to keep reminding myself that you are Ryan Turner. Oh! And honey, if anyone can bounce back from this you can. Right? - Sorry to keep you waiting. - That's all right. - Walk with me. - Sure. I guess you heard, I left beacon trading. Everybody's heard. I have admired your firm for quite awhile. I figured now would be a great time to join forces. Unfortunately, we're downsizing. Jim, six months ago you were begging me, - now I'm... - Poison. I'm sorry, Ryan. It's... I just... I can't help you. Nancy, hi. Ryan. I've been calling you for days. Yeah, uh, I've been very busy. It's been totally... I got your messages. There's gotta be something you can do. Look, Ryan, I made some calls. Looks like they might be investigating you. Ryan Edward Turner, while this commission finds insufficient evidence for indictment, your conduct leaves us no alternative but to revoke your broker's license. This one was declined, too. Try this one. I'm gonna have to keep this one. But we accept food stamps. You're jeopardizing your economic future, Ryan. Patrick, I don't really give a shit about my future. I'm gonna cash in my retirement fund. You're gonna pay a hell of a penalty. Just do it! This is for the 13,500 we agreed on. If you could just sign. Here. Great. Good. We'll have everything out by 5:00. Mr. Turner, I am so sorry that you've been evicted from 989. Thanks, Paul. When I said I wanted us to live together, I meant at your place. Ryan, you haven't moved in a week. Let's go out. We're living together. We're well past the going out stage. Fine! I'm going out with Cathy then. What's going on? I'll put this delicately. You're a loser and I'm leaving you. Things will get better. I'm tired of watching other people enjoy the life I was supposed to have. My life is flying by. Do you see a rock on my finger? I get it. Who is he? He? Oh, you think this is about someone else? Honey, this isn't about someone else. This is about you. His name is Francisco, and he owns a diamond mine in Brazil. When did you meet this guy? Mm... Tuesday, but he loves me. So you're just giving up on us? If god wanted me to marry poor he would have made me homely. What about your job? What about your column? Oh, I'm done with everything here. I'm jetting off with Fran-chesco. - Francisco. - Yeah, him. By the way, the rent's due. That's a Zipkin, isn't it? I don't know what you're talking about. Yeah? Dr. Lou Zipkin, Madison avenue. Who told you? Call me. I can fix it. Ass! I can fix that, too! Ryan, sorry I'm late. I had to do a lipo-injection on an anorexic woman. Now she wants to be the fat lady at the circus. Cindy left me. No?! I didn't see that coming. - Are you insulting my ex? - Of course not. - She's a bitch. - Is all I was saying. She left me for some Brazilian guy. And after all that work I did on her. We can build you a new one. It's not just her. My whole life is a mess. I could kill myself, but I'd probably go to hell, and that would be redundant. You'd be among friends. Yeah, friends. Nobody likes me, Barry. Come on. "nobody" is overstating it. Was I that big an asshole? I wouldn't say big. Huge? Gigantic. Paul Bunyan comes to mind. All right, I get it. Let me have a beer. Get him a beer. Yeah? Is Cindy there? - Who's this? - Who's this?! You're calling me. This is Page Hensen, her publisher from the "Journal." who's this? This is Ryan Turner, her boyfriend, - from Syracuse. - Well... she left a confusing message, something about moving to Brazil. Can you tell me whether she's coming to work, or whether I can take her off payroll? Payroll? Payroll. I don't have to pay her if she doesn't work. That's the way we do things in this country. It's progressive, don't you think? Apparently you misunderstood Cindy's message. What she was trying to say was she's not moving to Brazil. In fact, she's hardly moving at all. She's sick... ...Brazilian flu. Brazilian flu? Put her on the phone. I can't. She has laryngitis. Her doctor ordered total voice rest. Her doctor? What's his name? Ah... Dr. Barry Sherman. Perhaps she should take an extended leave. No, Cindy wants to do the column from bed. She shouldn't be without an income when she's this sick, should she? Fine. I guess I have no choice. I'll send her letters over. No! She's contagious. I'll come pick them up. She's contagious, and he's coming here? Oh boy! Chelsea journal. Sure, hang on one second. I'm looking for Page Hensen. And I'm looking for a man who appreciates the sight of a 70-year-old woman in a bubble bath. I see. Is she available? Business or pleasure? Business. Serious or monkey? None of your. Just tell her Ryan Turner is here, Cindy's friend. The boyfriend's here. Hi, I'm Page Hensen. Hi, Ryan Turner. Coffee? - Sure. - It's over there. Let me... say up front that I am not at all comfortable with Cindy working from home. I like to do things a certain way around here. What way is that? Around here. Where I can control them. Are you telling me you've ever controlled Cindy? Well... you're not wrong. Which makes me right. Other than brilliant, it's my favorite thing to be. That was a joke. If you want levity, Mr. Turner. I can squeeze you in around 4:00 p.m. a week from Thursday... Cindy knows her deadline. Have a nice day. Cindy's deadline is 3:00 p.m. Thank you. But I'm open-ended. This the mail room? Uh, duh! I'm here to pick up all the letters from the "Dear, Cindy" column. All the letters? That's what I said. Okay. I'll get you all the letters. All the letters. "Dear Cindy, I have a small moustache, but waxing is painful and I can't afford laser removal. Do men really mind this? Signed, hair lip." "Dear Adolf, the only handlebar a man wants to hold is on a Harley. If a guy wants to munch hair he knows where to find it." Damn! That's good advice. "Dear Cindy, I'm planning my wedding, but when I try to get opinions about color schemes, my fianc doesn't seem to care. Does that mean that he really doesn't want to get married? Signed, the wedding Zinger." "Dear Zinger, while you're looking at wedding color schemes..." "...he's out looking at all the ass he's never gonna touch again. Just make the color scheme black, 'cause it's the darkest day of his life." these sound like these were written by some shallow, callous anti-feminist. May be you should read them again? Apparently, Cindy's ailment hasn't heightened her sensitivity. Perhaps you're incapable of seeing the insight and profundity of her writing? Are you implying I don't know how to do my job? How successful is your little paper, anyway? - You're right. - Usually. Perhaps we would be more successful without this column. Cancelled. Wait a minute. You can't do that. Can! Have! See the name plate? - Let me tell you something... - Whatever it is, Mr. Turner. I suggest you save it for a larger, more attentive crowd. Fine. fine! You don't deserve my... girlfriend's brilliant mind. Do you believe him?! He is... he has some... ass! Nerve! Wait a sec. Let me get this straight while I'm sober. - You took over Cindy's... - Shh! You took over... column? You can't tell a soul. Or Cathy! And the newspaper bought it? Well, not exactly. This so called publisher called me... Cindy... shallow, callous, insensitive, then she fired Cindy... me... us. Oh, so you're still out of work? Oh no. I'm not finished. I found Cindy's contract, and she's not taking this lying down... sick as she is. Well... that Cindy's got balls. She does now. Couldn't keep away, could you? Must be that bad girl vibe I give off... pheromones and poligrip. Enticing, but I'm here to see Ms. Hensen. She told me to send you away if you ever showed up again. So, if you want to get to her, you have to go through me, and I can map out a very direct route. How about a compromise? I'll pinch your butt as we walk. That's sexual harassment! - That's foreplay. - Ah. All right. No, wait. Stop. No, you can't. I tried to stop him. Iris, out. Turner, follow. I came to give you one more chance. Oh! This sounds good. Cindy is devastated that you would take advantage of her disability as a pretense to breach her contract. You're not serious? Please leave. I'm sorry. That didn't come out right. Leave! I recommend you reconsider before her damages increase. "Damages"? Cindy's pain and suffering. Mr. Turner, you're on my turf, and I know publishing. Cindy wrote about munching hair, and getting ass. She's the one in breach, not me. If you want to take me on legally, I'm ready for a fight. Is Cindy? No. Iris, help. Oh, what's this piece of paper falling to the floor with a home address on it? Thank you. She likes roses. I like tulips. Shit. Go away, Mr. Turner. I can't do that. It's easy. Just pretend you're walking in, except go the other way. Just give me two minutes. I'm entertaining. No, you're not. I'll... call the police. No, you won't. This is my home, Mr. Turner. I don't mix business and pleasure. I don't think you mix pleasure and pleasure. You are way out of line. Just give me two minutes, and I promise I'll never bother you again. I came to... apologize. Two minutes. And the tock is clicking. Entertaining, huh? Nice place... I'm sure you came with a point. I can't go back to Cindy and tell her she lost her column. I see. where will you be going then? Cindy is very sick. Please, have a little empathy. Empathy? Every cent I could beg and borrow went into my paper. Cindy's column has never really fit in with my vision. She lacks warmth, insight, and most important, sensitivity. People change. People's lives change. People, I'm not so sure about. Things happen that change people. Give her one more chance. As a favor to me? And what do I owe you? When was the last time you put on lipstick at this hour? I'm not wearing lipstick. Yes, you are. I might be going out later. No, you're not. If I put my makeup on at night, it saves me 20 minutes in the morning. Time's up. Okay. Hey. One more chance. See, you do have a soft spot. And right now, I'm starting to think someone dropped me on it. - "Dear Cindy... " - Now remember, you've got to reach down, way past that cynicism. "Dear Cindy..." past those hardened layers of egomaniacal self-absorption. "Dear Cindy..." you're a girl... - I get it. Thanks. - I'm saying be sensitive. "Dear Cindy, my ex and I broke up, but I still can't stop thinking about him. Is four months too much time to grieve my lost love? Signed, not a mourning person." oh good, a neurotic one. Now you, being a sensitive woman, say... "Four days is too much time. The best way to get over a man, is to get under a new one." No, you can't say that. I just did. - It's not sensitive. - Maybe it is to a woman. No, say "He probably left you 'cause your ass got too big." Say that, then tell her I can fix it. put in my name and office number. - This isn't about you. - Well, it could be. And I'll give you a finder's fee. Barry, no. Fine. read the next one. "Dear Cindy, I caught my husband cheating..." probably due to a falling backside... gravity hits, he loses interest. It's sad, really. Tell her I can fix it. Put in my name and office number. Barry, no. You're losing a lot of money you could use. This goes on. "I caught my husband cheating, but that's not the worst of it. The woman is not half as attractive as me. Am I wrong for feeling twice as hurt?" What would a woman say? Oh. Oh god, not Cathy? Ohm-mmm. Ohm. Ohmm...gonna get that. Hello? Hi, honey. Listen, I just need to ask you a hypothetical question. - Not now, I'm practicing yoga. - No, it'll just take a second. Say a man is cheating with a woman that's not half as attractive as his wife, should the wife be upset that the other woman is ugly? All right, you son-of-a-bitch, who the hell is she? What? No, no... You couldn't be man enough to tell me in person? - Honey, honey... - I'm sorry, proceed. Wait, it's that bitch receptionist with the hairy cleavage! - Rhonda? - I knew it! You cheatin' bastard. I'll be off in a sec. I'm calling a lawyer! Cathy, honey, relax, - I'm not cheating. - What? I swear, I would never. Oh. Well... then I say he deserves to get stuck with the ugly one. I gotta go, honey. Love ya, bye. What? Somebody want to use the phone? That's a good point. What did she say? Hmm? Oh, that... if the husband's cheating, he deserves to end up with the ugly one. She may be onto something. "They say dogs are a man's best friend. Your man found a real barker. But remember, when you lie down with dogs..." "...you wake up with fleas. But when you lie down with ugly dogs, you wake up alone, because even the fleas don't want you." I have to admit they're... better. Better? Then that's good, right? I don't know what you said to her, I told her she's not the only one who's suffering. Don't get me wrong, I still think she has a long way to go. But you'll... print these? And pay for 'em? I guess so. Cindy is gonna die when I tell her. Do I detect... humor? Slips out, now and then. She likes the column. I told you. But Ryan, dear, do yourself a favor, misspell a word now and then. Cindy always did. How did you know? Sure. gorgeous, therefore stupid. Why am I always a stereotype? Why didn't you tell Page? I have a feeling about you. One more word of advice, though. This isn't a game. People might actually read this drivel. Some folks have nowhere else to turn. So if you're gonna do it, do it for real. Don't be a man, be human. How much can this really hurt? Ow. Ow! "Dear hair lip, if a man has a problem with your facial hair, strap him down, rip off his 5:00 shadow with hot wax, and ask him if any woman is worth that twice a week." Excuse me. You forgot your bag. Oh, thank you. Thank you so much. You're welcome. You flirted with him. Can I help it if they still look at me? - Women look at me, you know. - Why do you think I'm still with you? Ack! Listen to this one. "Dear Cindy, I'm in a monogamous relationship with a great guy. It's just that sometimes I get the urge to stray..." "...maybe the stability bores me, or I just crave the excitement of sex with someone new. Help, I'm confused." and then this Cindy woman writes back, "Dear confused, although multiple partners can be exciting, you have to think of them as you would a snowstorm..." "...you never really know when they will come, how long they will last, or how many inches you will get..." "...stick to what you already have. It's so much nicer to watch the storm pass cuddling with someone who loves you." I feel so lonely. Circulation's up 3%. Thank you. Apparently people are... How do I say this? They're reading it. That's always good with a newspaper, honey. Excuse me. - Oh! - Mr. Turner. Come in. Someone's excited to see me. Hell... that always happens when I wear a rayon blouse with no bra. Color me embarrassed. I am very pleased with Cindy's performance. I guess this illness has had a profound effect on her after all. - Or... you have. - Thank you. Anyway... I have something for you. It's the first paycheck that Cindy actually deserves. Forgot all about that. That's great. You look nice today. Thank you. But may I remind you, you've been around a sick woman? No, you have a definite glow. If you're not taking him, I will. Iris, what are you babbling about? He obviously wants one of us. He has a girlfriend. What the hell. She'll be dead soon, anyway. Dude, I am so not happy with the direction this seems to be going. Dude, get over it. All right, where the hell is she? Cindy? She's not here. Every time I call here, you tell me she can't talk. When I call at the office, they tell me she's working at home. She's talking to someone, somewhere, and it's not me and it's not here. What the hell is going on? All right, you want the truth, Cathy? Fine. Cindy went away for awhile, on personal business. - Cindy tells me everything. - Not this. Her column is still being printed. She's emailing it. You're lying. And I'm not leaving... until I get some answers. Okay. You want the real truth? Cindy's... pregnant. What?! Oh my god! Her ass is gonna get so fat. Why didn't she tell me? Wait... that is something she would tell me! But... It's not my baby. Oh my god. It was Gunther, her trainer. I told her to put an end to it. Oops. Oh, Ryan, you must be devastated... even more so now. When you talk to Cindy, tell her Barry can help with the stretch marks. And if you need anything, don't hesitate to call. Like you have in the past. "Dear Cindy, I've recently been introduced to your column, I don't have many people to talk to, so I thought, well... here goes. My son has the aids. I never approved of his lifestyle, and was always honest about it. Now, I live in shame, and have been telling people he has cancer. I know most of your stuff is about broken hearts and romance, but why can't I move past this? I don't have a lot of time to find an answer here. Please... help me." "I don't have a lot of time to find an answer, please help me." You can't give one of your clever answers on this one. This is serious. I don't know what to do. I'm in way over my head. I'm getting out while I still can. All right, Ryan. Hey, listen, if you want to quit, I don't blame you. When I was starting out, this doctor asked me to consult on this burn victim. I go in the room. This guy's got third degree burns on 90% of his body. He was in so much pain It... it was horrifying. And I look at the guy, and I was... I was scared shitless, all right? So I ran out of there. And then I was embarrassed. I didn't know what to do. So I called a friend of mine, told him what happened. You know what he said? He goes, "Hey, you're scared. How do you think that burn victim feels?" Smart friend. Yes, you were. Thanks, Barry. "It is not how your son dies, but rather, how he lived. He may not agree with all your life choices either, but I'll bet he loves you. Don't be angry at yourself for feeling shame, be angry at the people who instill shame in you. Let go of your prejudice, and grab hold of your son. You'll have plenty of time after he's gone for anger." "Dear Cindy, I'm losing my hair, and I'm losing my confidence with women. Am I just being paranoid?" "Trust me. A lot of women know your hair loss is caused by an oversupply of male hormones. Remember this thought... the more hair you lose, the more head you get." Hello? Cathy? Okay, relax. Take a breath. - Channel 5... Turn it on! turn it on! - I will. Thanks. ...causing quite a buzz in the tri-state area, is advice columnist, Cindy Styne, who has a rather unorthodox approach, and unique perspective, to say the least. For example, a woman writes in she's having no luck finding the perfect caring guy. So Cindy advises, "The problem isn't finding a boyfriend who is perfect, gentle and caring. The problem is, guys like that already have boyfriends." "New York 1" is hoping to get an exclusive with her. I may have to get her exclusively, too. Get me an address on Cindy Styne. Page, we're going to make payroll. - You're kidding? - I'm not kidding. - So don't take out that second mortgage. - Okay. Hey, if you're lucky... you may even be able to cash your own paycheck. - That's fantastic! - Please don't tell anybody about this, okay? Otherwise there's a free-for-all on the office supplies. - Hi. - Hello. Did you see it on TV? Yes, along with half a million other women in the city. And to think, you were going to cancel the column. I'm the first to admit when I'm wrong. Great. go ahead. - What? - Admit it. The admission was inherent in what I said. Still, won't it make you feel better to actually say it? No. but if it would make you fell better, I was wrong. Happy? Let's not point fingers. Mr. Turner, I was already going to renew Cindy's contract. I don't know. What don't you know? Circulation is up 20%. Cindy may have some stipulations before she re-signs. What kind of stipulations? You know Cindy. I could talk to her. I do have some influence. Perhaps we could discuss her demands over dinner? - Tonight? - No, I can't tonight. I have to review a performance artist. What about drinks beforehand? Fine. 6:30 at the park grant. I'll see you there. The sexy turquoise one with the spaghetti straps, honey. No, I was looking for today's galleys. Right there on your desk. I see. Thank you. Not the navy suit? Hello. What can I get you? Cosmopolitan, please. Before you make any demands, just remember Cindy's column was close to extinction a few weeks ago. You look incredible. I'm ready to listen, and I'm open to compromise, but please keep in mind her recent success was partly fueled by my patience and leniency. When was the last time you were on a date? Of course, I do intend to play hardball. With a man that thought you were beautiful? Business is business. A date that kept you up all night thinking about it? This is a business meeting. And I've given up dating. Oh, given up? Sounds like you've been hurt pretty badly. That bad, huh? I was involved with someone. As it turns out, I wanted one man to fulfill my every need, he wanted every woman to fulfill his one. His wife kicked him out, too. Now, about this contract. So clearly, you know what you don't want in a man. What do you want? Someone who can concentrate. - Seriously. - Thank you. What every woman wants. Someone warm. Someone sensitive. Someone who'll cry when I smack him. Really? What do you want in a man? Someone who's not deceitful. This contract... Sorry. Right. Okay... I think a 5% increase in salary is fair. For a transit worker. 50% of the profit increase, move the column to page four. I see you came prepared. - Okay. - So tell me... What is it, exactly, that you want in a woman? Cindy, for example? Maybe 50% is a little high. Clearly even you have expectations. Front page billing, and 10% of the profit increase. What does she do to deserve this kind of loyalty? Cindy changed my life without even knowing it. Did she? Her terms seem fair. I'll have my attorney draw up papers. That's it? Do your business and leave? I feel so cheap. I told you I was reviewing a performance artist tonight. I could walk you to a cab. Or, you know, tag along. I'm not so sure you would enjoy this. It's very progressive. You don't think I'd fit in with the elitist, high-brow, artsy fartsy downtown scene? I can be as progressive as the next guy. Okay, come on. What is "projected pastels?" You'll see. Okay, maybe not as progressive as the next guy. The artist inserts the hose and fills himself with paint. You're kidding. You're not kidding. Now he'll projectile release the paint onto the canvas. Whatever happened to brushes? He calls it "Enemart." It represents the waste of his life being released from the bowels of his being. Do you find this offensive? No. what about this could possibly be offensive? I'm so sorry. Just because I got a little paint in the face from a man's ass? But it was a well respected ass. You should have seen your expression. It was actually kind of cute. You think so? I cannot believe you did that. Hey, dude. Blow me! Hello? Could you cash your paycheck, please, so I can balance my books for once? Then what am I going to put under my coffee cup, Steven? Iris, you're killing me. I just want to let you know that. Then suffer in silence, Steven! Uh-oh. She doesn't want to see you right now. - Did she say that? - She implied it, when she said she doesn't want to see you right now. Have you seen the amount of mail for Cindy? You and I both know it's because of me. Now, I want to see Page, and I won't be told no. No! Page. What's going on? I no longer have a problem with Cindy's column, so you can deliver it to Iris... This is about you kissing me last night. Me?! You? I did not. It sure tasted like you. You leaned in... and I lost my balance. And fell onto my face? It was an unfortunate accident. I know. Don't you just hate it when two people accidentally connect? Page, what is going on? Well, let's see. You're in a relationship, that's infidelity. - Actually, I came to tell you... - I'm not finished. Your significant other works for me, that's unethical. She's become my biggest asset, that's plain fact. If you'd cheat on her, you'd cheat on me, that's common sense. And I want you to leave this office, that's about it. No, it's not. there's something that I have to tell... - I don't want to hear it! - Stop interrupting me! Cindy is not who you think she is. I know. How do you know? The letters. You could tell from the letters? Yes. Now they've started writing me. Listen to this, "Dear editor, I wrote Cindy for advice on what to do about my husband hitting me. She put things into perspective the way none of my family or friends could. They all told me to save my marriage. Cindy told me to save myself. I got out, thanks to her. If she has given this gift to me, I can only imagine how she's affected others. God bless you and Cindy." she is not the person who I thought she was... at all. Cindy has become the difference in people's lives. And she should know that. She does. I won't be bothering you, anymore, Page. I'll have Cindy email her column from now on. Can I help you? Lucy Stone, FOX news, "New York report." - And you are? - Wondering what you're doing here. I just wanted to ask a few questions to the woman that seems to have all the answers. Cindy doesn't do interviews. She prefers to keep her anonymity. Can I use your phone to check in with the newsroom? Sure. It'll wait. We only trust secure land lines. Do you mind if I use your restroom? It's broken. I can give you a cup. Okay, I'll tell you what, here is my card, in case she changes her mind when she sees it's Lucy Stone. You'll be the first one she calls, Lucy Stone. - And again, you are? - Gonna close the door now. No, no, no, tell him I'm busy. I have no time to talk to him now. If worse comes to worst, I'll call him tomorrow at his office. Can I help you? Bye-bye. Ms. Hensen, I was hoping we could help each other. I believe this is my desk, Mr. Simpson. I know this because I'm on the wrong side of it. Well, forgive me. So you know who I am? You own my competition, and I wouldn't know who you are? What I don't know is what you're doing here. Well, I... I have a little proposition for you. Judging by your uninvited intrusion, I'm sure it's very little. You seem like a no nonsense woman, and I admire that. At least I know I'm dealing with an equal. Any woman who aspires to be equal to men in business, simply lacks ambition. Okay. How's this for ambition? I want to buy out Cindy's contract. Cindy's not for sale. I happen to know this newspaper is losing money. You can't afford not to sell her. When I want something, Ms. Hensen, I usually get it. You'll have to get it, somewhere else. If you'll excuse me. Never wrestle with a pig, Ms. Hensen, you'll both get dirty, only the pig likes it! At least I know what species of animal I'm dealing with. Good day, Mr. Simpson. This is "FOX 5, live." - Live from lower Manhattan... - Did I tell you I was an early riser? So who is this advice columnist who has the answers, ...but for some reason chooses anonymity? New York is asking, "Who is Cindy?" I ordered a special meal, and there is nothing special about this. I should be on your list, Cindy Styne. The Cindy Styne? Yeah. Why? I love your column. You've read my column? I even wrote to you. But you haven't answered it yet. Really? Was your letter stupid? - Pardon? - You wouldn't believe some of the ridiculous letters I used to get. Idiots out there. You know, somehow I thought you'd be different. No. I'm the same. This is your captain. We're starting our descent into New York shortly. And we up here in the flight deck want to thank you for flying with us. And we hope you have a pleasant stay in New York, or whatever your final destination. Witnesses reported to us that they spotted Cindy Styne dining. Oh, you have to go? What a pity. Okay, so long, I'll talk to you again. Oh! Thank you very much. The phones are ringing off the hook. I've been on the phone so much, I'm developing a bicep. Biceps go the other way. Oh. Matt Lauer personally called. - I talked to him. - This is insane. And the wire services called to talk about national syndication! - That's great. - I'm so happy for you. For me, back to the grind. - Iris? - Or not. Last year, when you got that horrific flu, How long were you out? Including the days I lied... and went to club med, about two and a half weeks. But I got sick there. I've been ignoring my intuition. I'm going to go see Cindy. Page, is that wise? Let me rephrase that, that's not wise. Is there something you're not telling me? Almost daily. Who is it? It's Page. Shit! I heard that, Ryan. Open the door! I'm in the shower. I need to talk to Cindy. Now is not a good time. Open the door! She's not here. Where is she? The media's been hounding us. She couldn't get any rest so I sent her to a private hospital. I looked up the doctor you said was Cindy's physician. He's a plastic surgeon. Right. I want the truth. The truth is... Dr. Sherman is a plastic surgeon. And he wasn't treating Cindy for the flu. Keep talking. What happened is... Cindy's breast implants... she has them, you know? They shifted so radically, that she became... frontally disfigured, a one breasted hunchback. It was like talking to a Picasso in Chanel. - Oh my god... - Yeah, it was terrible. You must think I'm a complete idiot. I don't, but if you feel I must... let me tell you something, Ryan, I can spot bullshit from a blimp in a fogstorm. Now where the hell is she? Oh god. The real truth is... Cindy went to Brazil. - Ryan! - No, listen! Three months ago, I was a great liar, with a great job, which I lost. So Cindy left me. I couldn't find another job so I took hers. You took Ci... Wait a minute... You've been illegally impersonating Cindy? Perpetuating a hoax and lying to my face? It sounds a lot worse when you say it. Do you understand the legal ramifications of this? Yes, I am a fraud. There will be a huge scandal, Ryan! The papers will crucify me... No... wait... I am a paper. I'll have to crucify myself. - I wanted to tell you the truth. - Then why didn't you? Because I didn't want you to know I was a fraud. And I needed a reason to keep seeing you. You're the first woman that's made me care about something other than myself. Oh, please! Add that to your list of lies and deception. Everything you've said to me has been a lie. Is there anything, at all, about you that's true? Just... the stuff you printed. I am so out of here. I love you. The hardest part about this was not being able to tell you. Or kiss you. You really think I would let you kiss me? After this?! How clich is that? What? "Passion overtakes them"? Who do you think you're dealing with here? I don't know. I just love you. Let me tell you something... Cindy, where do you see the column going? - Cindy, why the secrecy? - Where have you been hiding? What the hell is going on? Get my car. Hurry! Hurry? You never wanted me to hurry before. Before my temperature goes down. Stop complaining, you always wanted a nooner. Yeah, but what's the rush to have children? Cindy's having one, so... - it got me thinking. - Cindy's in Brazil. - Cindy's in Brazil?! - What? No, I mean... Cindy's bra is chilled. Let's make babies. Okay. Oooh! Owww! - What are you doing? - It's the yoga. It familiarizes me with muscles I never even knew I had. I... I can't move the... Oh my god! My... Exactly. Now tell me what's going on? I don't know anything! I swear! Ok-aaay. Talk! Feel the love! Okay, okay! I'll talk! I'll talk! So? Have I redeemed myself? Almost. Keep trying. You are an amazing woman. Apparently, so are you. Who else knows about this, besides you and... clearly... Iris? My friend, Barry. But I trust him. Eventually, someone's going to find out. How is anyone going to find out? Cindy? Welcome home. Ryan! I have been to hell without a sunblock. It was awful! Brazil has no air conditioning, mosquitoes the size of premature babies, and nobody speaks a real language. And then, Ryan, when I got off the plane, I was totally attacked by paparazzi, like a celebrity. What is going on? What the hell is going on? In a nutshell, you left, my life collapsed. I said you were sick, took over your column. It took off, you became famous. The column took off, and you've been writing it? - Actually, I've... - Did you know he was me? I didn't then. But I do now. So... you've been me, while doing her, you used to do me, but now you are me? Maybe? Wait a minute, wait a minute. You're the one that left me. Ryan, I have an innocent, little affair in Brazil, and you not only steal my job, you sleep with my boss? Oh my god! You're alive! - Ryan's been writing your column! - I know. He's telling everyone that you are on your deathbed. I know. - He's also having an affair. - I know. No offense, Cin, but you're bursting my bubble butt, here. Isn't it higher? Much. Ryan... Ryan, I'm so sorry. Cathy used her sexual web to make me spill everything. - Hey! - Oh! oh. Oh, not good. This must be the friend you can trust. Page, Barry. Barry, Page. Page, Cathy. Cathy, Page. And you all know Cindy. Mmm, the victim. I think everybody should leave. Cindy and I have some talking to do. I'm not going anywhere. I'm mad at you! And Cindy needs me. I thought we'd go to Bergdorf's on the way home. Call me. Right. uh, well... I should be going too. Yeah, and leave the sheet. I'll get my stuff out tomorrow. No! Her, leave. You... I forgive. Eventually. Cindy, I'm in love with page. Please! You don't even like smart women. I'm not the same person. You wouldn't even like me. You'll meet someone else. You're young, attractive... vulnerable, emotionally unavailable... everything a man looks for in a woman, just... not this man. Mmm, fine then. Well, now there, see? I knew that we could all be understanding, - and amicable, and... - I want my job back, at quadruple my old salary, and what used to be your office. And completely irrational. Cindy, no. This column is too important to too many lives. Too bad. I'm tired. So you two have about a second to decide, or I go right now to NBC news, "Live at 6:00." Tick-tock over here. You can't have the column back. Fine. Watch me on TV. I'll be live at 6:00. You'll be dead by 6:30. That went well. Excuse me, Ms. Styne. What? A moment of your time, if I may? I don't talk to unattractive strangers. Is that your rolls? Yes, I'm Donald Simpson. And I own "The New York Chronicle" as well as 32 other papers. And I'd like your column "Cindy-cated" across the country. You should know, I'm not the one... I'm offering six figures a year. - But you should know... - Plus an expense account. - Keep talking. - How about a company car? Like a Mercedes SL-anything? All you have to do is sign some papers. - She's bluffing. - She's not bluffing. You're right, she's not bluffing. Go after her. She's not bluffing. - Is this for real? - Absolutely. Cindy! What's wrong with us? I don't know. We should be upset. Things couldn't be worse. Then why am I so happy? Well, because you finally got me into bed? Well, there's that. If all this happened so the two of us could be together, then it was worth it. We may be screwed, but we're screwed together. Look on the bright side, tomorrow morning when we wake up, we get the unfortunate pleasure of watching Simpson announce his victory on TV. And if I know Cindy, she'll be right there with him, gloating. I don't even care. How about you? Cindy... I need your help. Of course you do. I can inject some of the fat I took from Cathy's ass into it... it'll give you at least an extra two inches. - Barry, wake up! - What? what? I need 200 grand, and I need it now. Mmm-mmm-mmm. - No. - No? No. Ryan... you're a bad stockbroker. See, you lose people's money. I'm not a stockbroker anymore. Exactly, I'm not giving my money to a... female columnist. - I'm not a female. - You could be. Barry, you gotta help me. - No, I can't... no. - Barry, I got nowhere else to go! - It's too much! - I got nowhere else to go. Besides, Ryan, all my money's tied up. What about Cathy's money? Okay. - Really? - What are friends for? Looks good for the last issue. Well, well. You usually sneak out of bed and leave a woman in the middle of the night? You called? I'm sorry. But last night I came up with an idea that could save your paper. - How? - Beating Simpson at his own game. If I can get 200 grand, I can turn it into millions. I borrowed 50. How much do you have? She has nothing. Less than nothing. If you count interest. Damn it. where am I going to get my hands on 150 grand? Here's my checkbook. Iris, no. I don't want your money. You have 150 grand? - In one of my accounts. - She's loaded. I'm a great housekeeper. Three divorces... I kept every house. - She just works here for fun. - Or until I find my... next husband. Iris, I'll pay you back. Oh, I don't want it back. I just want a piece. Iris! I want part ownership of whatever he has planned, or I'll cash all my paychecks, and break you. I couldn't think of a better partner. Oh, no! It's painfully clear that you've been using me - to get to her. - And you mapped out a very direct route. But... I have, it seems, found consolation in the arms of another man. A younger man! Whoever he is, he's a lucky man, too. You bet your ass! Andy, how are you? Good to see you. Willy, how are you doing? - Hey, Doris. - Hey, Ryan. Hello. Excuse me. Can I help you? I don't think so, but thank you. Well, well. What are you doing here, Turner? I thought you'd be leavin' off your famous girlfriend. Remember when I said your wife was moderately attractive? Yeah. I lied. I didn't know how lucky you are. You're not looking for a job? Tables are about to turn, Carl. Ryan! What are you doing here? - You're looking at your new client. - What? I want to buy 50,000 shares of Simpson publishing. Now. I told you, no investments. We're ruined. Ruined. Bye-bye, designer clothes. Now, I'll have to shop on Canal street. Bye-bye to our vacation. You promised me you would take me to Egypt to see that giant sphincter. What about our mortgage, huh? Bye-bye, doorman, co-op. We'll end up living in a refrigerator carton, wearing Kleenex boxes for bedroom slippers, and snatching pigeons for a little protein, praying for rain so we can shower. And if you think I'm selling my jewelry, you've got another thing coming. And let me tell you something else, "Mr. best friend"! I hope you have the numbers of some very good hookers, because my legs are shut. Do you hear me?! Welded. Yeah... and an egg roll. Yeah, "welded." I'll bring you to the mike, and you'll say how happy you are to be part of the Simpson publishing empire, - I'll take over from there. - Yeah, whatever! - How do I look? - Like gold. Oh. Donny... oh! It's beautiful. A popular columnist may be defecting to another paper. Who? when? About an hour is all I can legally say, but you can do the rest since you are... Lucy Stone. Thank you, Jim. And here in New York, reliable sources tell me that everyone's favorite advice columnist may be a free agent. Could that be what today's press conference is about? - Over here. - That's the car, boys. Stand back. Stand back. Mr. Simpson. Mr. Simpson, can you confirm the rumors? Please, sir? Ladies and gentlemen, Cindy Styne. Will you be leaving "The journal"? - No comment now. - No comment. Cindy, where have you been? No comment on that, either. Tell us about the dress. The dress? I had it made. Rumors that popular columnist Cindy Styne might be defecting to the "New York Chronicle" has sent Simpson's stocks up eight points. Now what? Let's go watch a victory. So, we've successfully concluded an exclusive five year contract. And after lengthy negotiations, I'm very pleased to announce the acquisition of "Ask Cindy." Which will debut next week in National syndication. Amy, get ready. Ryan, it's going up so fast, the ticker can't keep up! So without further ado, let me introduce our new Chronicle girl, Ms. Cindy Styne. Cindy. Amy? - How much is it up? - 30 points! Hah! We just made a million five. Thank... ooh. - Thank you, Donny. - Sell. Sell. - You're out. - Good. Nice move. I'm excited to be part of the Simpson publishing family. - Thank you, Cin... - And... Excuse me. And... things are gonna be different from now on. Take it all, and sell it short. Are you sure? - What are you doing? - Trust me. I used to be pretty good at this. I'm betting that Simpson is about to go down. ...'Cause my life has been a living hell. See, it wasn't me writing my column. I was in Brazil. - Ladies and gentlemen. - Don't bother. It was an impostor, my ex-boyfriend forging my advice. But I am back now, so no more of that pseudo-sensitive crap. - From now on... - Thank you, Cindy! Thank you very much. Ms. Styne's humor is one of the reasons the Simpson publishing company is fortunate to have her. - Let's gloat. - Let's. This conference is over. Hey! We got a new breaking story. Mr. Simpson? Congratulations. She's all yours. Donald. When you're screwed, you're screwed. Come on! Are you hungry? I could eat. We made how much? Well, you made... It was your money. Oh! Wha... I have no idea. I'm sorry, but he's in a meeting. Don't start with me. Donny! I need some help! Whoa! - Honey. - Yeah. Is my tummy gonna look all right after this? Like your new ass... but flat... ...and no crack. "Dear Ryan, I want to propose to the only woman I ever loved, But I'd like to do it in a surprising way. Any advice? Signed... ...me." Hi. - Are you ready to go yet? - Yeah. As soon as you approve this. Okay. Really?! Yes! Wait! My purse! |
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