Dee is at the shrink and tells the doctor about the dinner she had suggested to get her and her friends to talk about their problems. Horrible, Dee says. And it was all because they couldn’t decide on who to wash the dishes.
“Hey assholes, come in here!”
The guys come into the room and Frank dumps the dirty dishes onto the floor. They take a seat and want the psychiatrist to decide who the loser will be. They say they all had their roles already; Dennis & Dee cooked, Frank bankrolls, Charlie bought the exotic pheasant, and Mac was the host.
The shrink says it seems the issue is much more than just dishes and they agree that they are complex people. Dennis suggests he can help her figure this out since he has an academic psych background from an ivy league college, not this La Salle she’s apparently gone to.
“Sounds like a pasta dish.”
Dennis suggests they do one on ones first. And up first is Mac.
He starts out demonstrating his sick moves before going through a rapid succession of different emotions until he admits he feels like the others don’t understand him or appreciate his efforts at keeping them secure. Sometimes he feels like they’re not even that good of friends.
That’s bullshit, he quickly concludes. They’re great friends.
“Goddamn them for making me think otherwise.”
He then starts laughing and she gets him to talk about his recent 60 lb weight fluctuation.
That’s almost impossible, she remarks.
“Through God, all things are possible, so jot that down.”
Mac says when he was fat, people would be afraid of him, the monster barreling towards them. He misses that feeling. He prefers being as big as a skyscraper, not as small as a postage stamp.
Mac points out the pen on the table and assumes the shrink put it there so people think it looks like a dick.
The shrink says Mac might have body dysmorphia where he has a distorted version of himself that no one else perceives but him. Mac says Dennis perceives it because he’s been giving him size pills to make him bigger.
The shrink says talking is better than pills to deal with his mood swings and body issues. Mac keeps chewing and putting the pen in his mouth. He says that talking might be a good idea to get him “most big.” He says he was unsure about “this whole ‘woman doctor’ thing,” but when she started talking about God, he realized she was one of the smart ones.
She tells him to put the pen down and Dennis barges in to bring in the next patient.
Charlie bangs his head on the wall and screams fine, he’ll do the dishes since it’s Charlie Work anyway.
He explains what Charlie Work is (basement stuff, urinals, blood stuff, sludge, dead or decaying things) and says it’s okay since he likes the dark, he like slippery things, he likes being naked, he likes the sewer, bleach smells good and tastes good.
But he doesn’t like people kicking him around and telling him what to do. He’s probably the weirdest guy in the universe.
She asks why he thinks that and he talks about surviving an abortion, sharing a bed with a man who may or may not be his father, eating cat food to go to sleep, and having a fascination with cat hair that he’d glue it to the back of his neck.
She says that’s not a problem as long as he’s comfortable in his own skin. Charlie takes that to mean that if he gets more skin or since he has a lot of skin, he will never or has never done a bad thing in his life.
Actually, she means that for someone with such non-traditional life choices, he’s actually pretty well adjusted. Charlie’s not getting it.
Maybe it’s getting a ton of cat hair and gluing it all over his body and run around as cat man through the alleyways at night. Also maybe it means to stop hiding the pigeon.
He takes a dead pigeon out of his coat pocket and throws it on the table. He says he might of hugged it too hard.
“We’ll make an adjustment to it and make a tradition out of it.”
Frank’s turn. He’s spitting pistachio shells all over the place.
Frank explains he doesn’t trust therapists because when he was a kid, a therapist’s questions after he got into a fight got him scrambled up and eventually sent to a “nitwit school,” a school not just for the mentally disabled, but “the bodies too.”
Back then, science was real crude, he says. They stuck all the kids together in windowless rooms and his roommate was a frog kid. All the rooms had drains in the floor so the kids could get hosed down.
Frank says he got his first kiss there, but then he starts getting very emotional. It was terrible, he says. Not the girl, because was an angel, always smiling… because she had no lips.
“But her mouth was still very much in play.”
Two weeks later, she died because she thought she was a spaceman with a plastic bag as a helmet.
Frank starts panicking. He doesn’t want to think about it. Damn this therapist for making him think about it.
Dennis’ turn. He salutes the therapist for rattling the others’ cages and breaking them down. He says isn’t it great being in someone’s mind, having complete control like the thrill of being near the executioner’s switch that any moment you could throw it.
“But knowing you never will. But you could. Never isn’t the right word, because I could. And I might. I probably will.”
Dennis presents her with psychological dossiers of the others that he’s been keeping. Charlie’s is the thickest, but he wants to start with Mac. He mentions the body dysmorphia and notes that well placed pen on the table. It definitely “could have quite the effect on a man like him.” It must have given Mac quite the thrill, Dennis adds, and that he’s always trying to suck on pens in the apartment.
She asks why some pages in the files are in crayon and Dennis says he started Dee’s file in the 2nd grade. He then talks about the size pills, Mexican ephedra he gives Mac because he was gross and disgusting “fat as shit, smelled like shit, sound like shit… he was repulsive, really.”
“Giving a man medicine for his disease? Where ever did I get that idea?”
She asks what he’s writing, but actually, he’s drawing. A picture of him groping her large breasts.
Dee’s back in the room and the therapist calls Dee out on lying to her all this time.
One example, “Were you or were you not the first choice for the female lead of The Notebook?”
Dee says she had to pass because of a scheduling conflict and graciously let Rachel McAdams have the role, and she did a fine job.
Dee starts talking in a
Boston Brooklyn accent, reciting lines from Good Will Hunting, then asks the therapist if she could’ve done a better job in The Notebook than Rachel McAdams.
I’ve never seen you act, she says and Dee admits she was lying.
Actually, she was just acting now by admitting she was lying.
Dee asks if that was good and if she liked it.
” Tell me I’m good. Tell me I’m good. Tell me I’m good. Tell me I’m good. Tell me I’m good.”
The shrink tells her she’s good.
“Thank you was that hard?”
“What is happenng?”
Meanwhile, in the waiting room, Frank is distraught. He admits to Dennis there was another twin in their mother’s womb. They were going to call him Donnie, but both he and Dee “devoured him” before he was born
“You gobbled him up!”
Frank cries that Donnie would’ve been the good kid.
Mac is doing exercises to get big, but Dennis tells him to just take more pills. Mac refuses and Charlie congratulates him on standing up to Dennis.
Charlie wants to give Dennis advice. There’s nothing wrong with doing what you want to do.
Dennis wants to slap Charlie and he does. I applaud you for that, Charlie says, but then punches him, chokes him and jumps on him.
Frank cheers Charlie on, “Get him for Donnie!”
Inside, Dee is scratching her scales off onto the doctor.
“You having a white Christmas? You having a white Christmas, you bitch!”
The others come in waiting for the doc’s decision.
Dennis says the doctor has already messed Frank up, gotten Mac to stop taking his pills and Charlie thinking he’s well adjusted when he’s the craziest one.
Charlie replies, “Stop calling me crazy, you’re crazy okay? You’ve been eating pigeon all day and loving it. You all ate pigeon!”
“I’m not wasting money on a pheasant when I could get a perfectly good street pigeon.”
He pulls the dead pigeon from his jacket again and slams it onto the table.
The shrink says they’ve made some great progress today, but that they’re a very dysfunctional group. However, everyone’s more interested in who’s going to do the dishes.
“DISHES! DISHES! DISHES!”
“OKAY!! Dee, do the fucking dishes!”
The guys cheer and Dee is incensed.
“Oh, you goddamn dirty bitch.”
Dee proceeds to smash all the plates next to the shrink.
“You like this!?”
Absolute insanity! Another hilarious, classic episode.
Sunny is definitely 5-for-5 this season so far. Every single episode has been gold and this one was no different.
Dee’s acting delusions are certainly nothing new, but we got a lot of new stuff about the guys. Dennis’ creeper status expands with all those “dossiers” he has. Charlie being the most well adjusted is maybe not a far off idea. Frank’s childhood torture… well damn. Frog kids and lip-less girls. Sounds like a story out of American Horror Story. And Mac’s growing gay tendencies. It just keeps building and building up to something. Random pen sucking being Mac subconsciously wanting to suck, well…
Anyway, lol… Sunny has been on fire this season. Hope they keep it up.