Finally got that initial scene in which the "roommate switch" is first broached between George and Jerry at the coffee shop. Episode written by Bruce Kirschbaum and Sam Kass; directed by Andy Ackerman.
{Jerry starts.}
So the roommate laughed at everything I said.
Wow.
It was a great sounding laugh too, kind of lilting and feminine--none of those big coarse "ha's." You know those?
Oh yeah: HA-A-A, HA-A-A.
Yeah.
Hate the big coarse "ha." Hate those.
And the worst part of course is that she also possessed many of the other qualities prized by the Superficial Man.
I see.
So as you can see, I've got a bit of a problem here.
Well, if I hear you correctly--and I think that I do--my advice to you is to finish your meal, pay your check, leave here, and never mention this to anyone again.
Can't be done, huh?
The Switch?
"The Switch."
Can't be done.
I wonder.
Do you realize in the entire history of western civilization no one has successfully accomplished the Roommate Switch? In the Middle Ages you could get locked up for even suggesting it!
They didn't have roommates in the Middle Ages.
Well, I'm sure at some point between the years 800 and 1200--somewhere--there were two women living together.
The point is I intend to undertake this. And I'll do it with or without you. So if you're scared, if you haven't got the stomach for this, let's get it out right now! And I'll go on my own. If not, you can get on board and we can get to work! Now what's it going to be?
Alright, dammit, I'm in.
I couldn't do it without you.
Alright. Let's get to work.
{Now here's the boys' second conversation on the subject, after we've seen them struggling with the issue over coffee, wandering the sidewalks of NYC-- all to 40's-style movie music--before continuing their discussion in Jerry's apartment. George begins this time.}
Alright. That's enough for today. You're tired. Get some sleep. I'll see you first thing in the morning.
Aw, we can't do it, who are we kidding? It's impossible! It's true! You can't do the Switch! Nobody can do the Switch! It was a stupid idea to begin with! Let's face it. I'm stuck with the non-laugher and that's that!
We'll come up with something.
Yeah, sure we will.
Alright. See you tomorrow. {George sighs, exits.}
{Pregnant pause, then George bursts back in.}
I-I-I-I-I got it!!!!!
{Commercial, then "third scene," starting out over a game of Yahtzee. George begins here, slowly, carefully, to make sure Jerry's got it. (Be sure to keep in mind the descriptions' hilarious visual enactments.)}
Alright. Let's go over it again, one more time.
Alright. So I tell Sandy that I want to have a m�nage � trois with her and her roommate.
That's right.
And you believe this course of action will have a two-pronged effect. Firstly, the very mention of the idea will cause Sandy to recoil in disgust, whereupon she will insist that I remove myself from the premises.
Keep going.
At this point, it is inevitable that she will seek out the roommate to apprise her of this abhorrent turn of events.
Continue.
The roommate will then offer her friend the requisite sympathy even as part of her cannot help but feel somewhat flattered by her inclusion in the unusual request.
{George takes over.}
A few days go by and a call is placed at a time when Sandy is known to be busy at work. Once the initial awkwardness is relieved with a little playful humor, which she [Laura] of course cannot resist, an invitation to a friendly dinner is proffered.
Huh. Well, it all sounds pretty good. There's only one flaw in it: They're roommates. She'd have to go out with me behind Sandy's back. She's not gonna do that.
{Another pregnant pause. George?}
You disappoint me, my friend. Sandy wants nothing to do with you. She tells Laura, "If you want to waste your time with that pervert, that's your problem."
{Final pause. Jerry?}
It's a perfect plan. So inspired. So devious. Yet so simple.
{George, finger in the peanut butter jar}: This is what I do.