"Will and Grace is recorded
in front of a live studio audience.
Hi, thank you for coming.
I'm Grace Adler... I live in the building...
and I'm running for President
of the New York Society for Interior Designers.
I actually just redecorated this lobby.
- What's your name, again? - Sharon Timmer.
I've lived directly below you for 19 years.
I took you to Urgent Care
that time a spider bit your neck.
Could you move? I want to get my mail.
Why'd you let me talk for so long?
Hi, Mrs. Timmer.
Your wife is yappy and rude.
That's why we never have sex.
Where is Jack?
I bribed him with five yoga classes
to get him to subtly blend in and drum up votes.
Wow!
Who redesigned the lobby of this building
I don't live in?
Grace Adler, you say?
She sounds single and ready to try too hard.
I told you to dress like a serious interior designer.
I can see the outline of your lulu-lemons.
You know what, Grace?
I fulfilled my rear-end of this bargain, okay?
So I'm going to yoga class...
where they encourage us to hold in our farts
and steer clear away from toxic people, okay?
So nama-stay away from me.
Hi, Mrs. Timmer!
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
Here you go.
You're welcome.
Yeah. Yeah, you. I held the door for you.
You're supposed to say "thank you."
It's called a social contract when someone...
don't walk away! Don't walk away!
I'm teaching you manners, you frickin' Neanderthal!
- Will, Will, Will. - Hmm?
Twitter celebrity sighting.
The West Side Curmudgeon is here.
I love him!
He hates the things we hate and Tweets about it!
Should I go over and fan-girl out on him?
- Oh, I wouldn't. - Okay, well, we're different.
I know who you are.
Okay.
You're the West Side Curmudgeon.
It's not a secret, so you can stop talking
like a drug dealer on a kids' show.
Genius!
You're delivering!
Oh, I... I read your feed every day.
I mean, we hate all the same things.
- TV and taxis and... - Chatty redheads?
Yeah, the worst.
- I'm Grace. - Noah.
- So, uh, what is this? - Oh, oh.
Well, I, um... over here.
I am running for President
of the New York Society of Interior Designers.
And you have a ton of followers,
and I would love a shout-out.
What? No, I'm not here for the...
I saw a crowd and thought there'd be appetizers.
I so get that.
I was technically a Scientologist
for, like, a minute because their welcome center
had great chicken salad.
I... I was in AA for the donuts
but left because of the camaraderie.
Are we the same person?
I don't know, did you ex-wife pound on your door this morning
looking for money?
That's who that was!
Just kidding. Um, my ex is a man.
I like men. Oh, not plural.
One at a time.
And... and with a reasonable amount of time
between them.
But what is reasonable, really?
Oh, chatty redhead.
Just got that.
Well, uh, see you around the neighborhood.
Do you mind if I keep a pamphlet?
Of course. Um, spoiler alert, there are a lot of pictures inside
of me making this face.
Can't wait.
- Bye, Grace. - Bye, Noah.
Hey, can you hold it... hold the door!
How'd it go?
Oh, so good.
You know when someone has a dog who hates everyone
but it just comes right up and licks you?
It's like that, but human.
And he asked if he could keep
my pamphlet.
Maybe he wanted to keep your pamphlet
to mock you on Twitter.
He is the West Side Curmudgeon.
No, Will. We hit it off.
He took the pamphlet because my contact information
is on there and he probably wants to ask me out or...
he's already mocked me on Twitter, hasn't he?
It's a picture of your pamphlet that says,
"Hi, I'm Grace Adler, and I'm running for President
of the Dumbest Thing in New York."
What?
No! Let me see!
Grace, is Will here?
I'll get him.
Hey, what's up?
You are not going to believe this.
I just saw my boobs
walking down Madison Avenue.
That's why the little label
on the pill bottle says, "Do not mix with alcohol."
Hey, I'm serious! I was on my way to Bergdorf
and I saw a woman coming up
out of a hole in the ground.
The subway. Continue.
And I looked right at her chest and I said,
"Hey.
Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"
And she said, "I don't think so."
And I said, "I'm not talking to you.
I'm talking to yous."
And she said, "Oh, yeah.
"I just got 'em done.
They're called 'Karen Walkers.'"
Wow.
I... I got a million questions and I...
I don't want to ask any of them.
And then...
and then she said, "Oh, oh,
"you look like you got a pair of Walkers yourself.
"Have you been to see
Doctor DiLorenzo too?"
And I said,
"How dare you insinuate
"that I would go
to an Italian doctor."
I don't know what you want from me.
You're my lawyer! Stop this guy!
I don't practice law anymore.
Potato, potata.
Start focusing on my tomatoes.
You told me that you would have my back,
and I just assumed that that would include my front, too.
Okay, okay. I'll call his office
and see if I can get him to knock off
knocking off your knockers.
That is such clever wordplay, she said out of pity
as she tried to get out of the room.
Will!
I need to go with you and Karen
to that plastic surgeon's office.
- How do you even know? - I bumped into her
in the hallway and she told me the whole story,
including your attempt at clever wordplay.
Bless your heart.
And while we were waiting for a tray of brownies to cool,
I told her I'm meeting Estefan's family from Spain
in a video conference tomorrow night.
And then we found a box full of pictures
of Estefan's ex-boyfriends and they're all gorgeous!
And Karen was like, "Honey, you got a problem."
Seriously, she left one minute ago.
Will, focus! I'm in a crisis!
I can't FaceTime with this face.
Jack, you don't need plastic surgery
to have a video conference with your fianc�'s family.
I am not talking new cheeks and chin!
Just shave off a couple layers.
Get a little closer to my skull.
I thought "knock off knocking off your knockers"
deserved more love.
Now I'm the guy who talks to himself.
Eh, it's okay.
Ha!
I found you, Noah Broader.
That's right. I know your last name.
And I also know that you wrote one big novel
15 years ago that I pretended to read
because the print was much smaller
than the cover suggested.
Congrats on your five second Google search.
Betty, can I get a rice pudding?
This crazy woman is paying.
Not crazy, totally sane,
light stalking, not paying.
If you're sitting here, you're paying.
And a coffee. Do you want a coffee?
It's on you.
I'm not drinking coffee with you.
That Tweet was very mean,
especially after the way you flirted with me.
Flirted? You mean when you talked
and I didn't stop you?
And you happened to mention your angry ex?
Okay, I get it. You're single.
- That's flirting. - You don't date much, do you?
- And I made you smile. - No way.
I only smile when old people and nuns fall.
I made a joke about my pose
in the pamphlet, remember?
Yeah, and my face looked like this.
Just...
take down the Tweet, okay?
- Yeah, I'm not gonna do that. - Seriously?
Seriously.
Great.
Have a miserable life.
- I'm done with you. - You're going...
I said I'm done!
- Front door is this way. - That's what I was trying to...
Done!
Where have you been?
We gotta meet Karen at that doctor's office
Keep your girdle on, Doreen.
I had to pick up my numbing cream.
I'm supposed to put this on an hour before
they laser-blast my face back to 1990-sexy.
Jack, don't become one of those gay guys
that start getting everything done
- as soon as he turns 40. - "One of those guys"?
We are the only gay guys over 40
who haven't at least gotten our eyes done.
We're about to lose our membership to the gym
in William-Sonoma.
Larry hasn't gotten his eyes done.
He still looks great.
Larry absolutely did his eyes.
Joe did his eyes and neck.
Rory's done eyes, neck, ears,
nose, head, shoulders, knees and toes,
knees and toes.
You're using way too much of that.
Ooh, it tingles.
God, will you please...
be careful, you're getting it on your lips.
Don't lick it off.
Would you relax?
It's fine.
That's so... that's so weird!
It's like...
"Overuse may cause extreme facial numbness."
How long does it last?
- What? - How long does it last?
Oh, "how long does it last."
Uh, four hours. Why?
I have to call Estefan
at 7:00 tonight.
What?
I have to call Estefan at 7:00 tonight.
What?
- I have to call... - Oh, you have to call Estefan
at 7:00 tonight.
Well, that's 1:00 AM in Spain.
You're sure he didn't mean 7:00 his time?
'Cause that's right now.
Oh, thi.
Ah! My fingers don't work!
My fingers don't work!
"Contact with fingers and other sensitive areas
may cause an unwanted reaction."
That's good advice for your love life, too.
Will, help me! I gotta make the call!
Wait, it goes on.
"In case of contact with tongue,
eating a banana may reverse the effects."
Really?
Holy crap! I'll just eat a banana!
You thon of a bith.
Seriously, it's just one Tweet.
Oh, good, you're back. You forgot to pay.
Seriously, it could really hurt my campaign.
Then you'd never get to be President
of the made-up thing.
It is not a made-up thing.
It is a society dedicated to the advancement
of design and beautification of New York.
Don't take it personally, okay?
I just think people like you are ruining the city.
Did you know there are now more cupcake shops
than porno theaters in my neighborhood?
Who wants to live in that world?
I do!
Porn is gross, and we are living
in the golden age of cupcakes.
New York doesn't need "beautification," okay?
It needs uglification.
Bring back Lincoln Plaza Cinemas and...
and Little Mike's.
I found a mouse in my soda at Little Mike's once.
It hadn't finished drowning yet.
So you drink around it! It's New York!
You know what I think?
I think you are a miserable, cynical person
who finds fault with everything
because you're alone in your sad apartment on Amsterdam,
and your life didn't turn out the way you wanted it to.
It's almost as if I'm a curmudgeon
who lives on the West Side.
And you follow me because you're also angry
that life didn't turn out the way you wanted.
- My life is terrific. - Oh, really?
You wanted to be divorced and alone in your late 40s?
Hey! I am in my late-mid 40s.
And I am not alone.
I live with my gay best friend.
So you have realized your dream.
You know what? You don't know
anything about me,
and if I was better at thinking
of devastating things in the moment,
I would so destroy you right now.
But they always come to me ten minutes too late,
so I am done with you.
I know!
There really should be an exit right there.
Hello!
Why are you wearing so much sun block inside?
No, no, wait, wait, wait!
You are nervous, but they will love you
because I love you.
Oh, one tiny thing.
My father has very recently
suffered a stroke.
So, please, do not call attention to it.
Papa, Jack.
Jack, what are you doing?
I can't feel my face!
- I can't feel my face. - Oh, yes,
keep mocking my poor papa, mister funny man.
You think you are some kind of a John Mulaney,
but your humor is cruel like Daniel Tosh.
No, no!
My face is numb
because I used too much prescription medicine
because I was gonna get a cosmetic procedure
so I can be as gorgeous as your other boyfriend.
Oh!
You can't feel your face because you used too much
prescription medicine because you were going to have
a cosmetic procedure so you can be as gorgeous
as my other boyfriends?
I'm so sorry, Estefan.
Don't you know?
You are beautiful.
An eternal boy.
You're like Peter Pan,
but you look even better in tights.
- I love you. - I love you, too.
That was Dr. DiLorenzo's office.
They will no longer be using your name
for his implants.
They'll now be called "Ah-oogahs."
Mm.
- So I guess we won. - Huh.
Normally, ruining an Italian's business
would make my day.
But there are still younger women out there
wearing my best asset.
Oh, come on, Karen.
You're a gorgeous woman and as... as long
as that contract you signed in blood holds up
you'll be gorgeous for eternity.
If you can't trust Satan, who can you trust?
Eh, getting older sucks.
- And we're only getting older. - Mm.
Every second, closer to death.
And now we're closer.
- And now... - Okay, another... another way
to look at it is...
is right now, we're the youngest
we'll ever be, so we might as well enjoy it.
Oh, that's true, honey.
Plus, who cares if we're getting older?
We're both filthy ri...
I mean, age is only a number.
You're an awful human being,
and I'll always be here for you.
I know that about you.
Okay, I thought of exactly what I want to say to you.
Is it nice? I bet it's nice.
You're a coward.
You're afraid of failure,
so you never wrote another book again.
You flirt with me but then you deny it
so you don't have to be exposed.
You lob little insults at the world
and it's all so safe.
Look, I know you think what I do is lame,
but at least I try.
I take something bad
and I try to make it better.
Without that... without the possibility
for a little joy or beauty in your life...
what's the point?
Nice monologue.
You must have majored in theater
when you were at NYU.
Just because I memorized it
and wrote it down on this napkin...
That's toilet paper. Where did you write this?
Where I find inspiration is none of your business.
Wait, how did you know I went to NYU?
What? You told me.
No, I didn't.
You Googled me.
- I did not. - Oh, but you did.
Let me see your search history.
You do not want to see my search history.
Fine. Fine.
I Googled you, all right?
But that... that doesn't mean... it's not because... that...
listen.
I had no... this...
Wow.
Do you need to storm out
and gather your thoughts?
The exit's that way.
Huh.
"Huh" what?
Just "huh."
I'll take down the Tweet.
Thank you.
You want a rice pudding?
Sure.
Might be a while. The service is terrible.
I'm not in a hurry.