Hi.
- Hello. - Hey.
Okay, moving on.
What is this shit?
Oh... Uh, Hold there, please.
- But I am going home. - It's just gonna be for a few seconds.
We're just in the middle of shooting something.
Very cool. What are we shooting?
- Dogs? Criminals? - Cut.
I'm not allowed to say, but what...
Adam, we're cutting.
Cut! Brad, can you go to two?
- Who is Brad? - Brad's 10-1, copy. Okay.
10'1"! What a tall fellow this Brad is.
Copy. All right, we're moving to the dolly shot!
Dolly? Nadja would be devastated if her dolly was shot.
No, I must intervene.
No. We're going again.
Shit, shit, shit. Shitty, shitty, shit.
Gentlemen. Gentlemen. Gentlemen, we are under attack.
A militia has assembled on our territory.
- I know! - It's not a militia.
They're just filming a TV show.
Well, this TV show has invaded our territory.
They are attacking us with their trucks
and their lights and their gigantic Brads.
Nandor thinks everything is a war.
Yet this time,
he's absolutely right.
It's called PI Undercover: New York.
It's a police procedural in its fourth season.
"Detective Jack Mancuso
is brought to life with deft sensitivity
by a never-better Cal Bodian."
"Brought to life"? Who is this man?
Some kind of necromancer?
- No. Worse. He's an actor. - Shit.
Now, wading down into the comments.
"Winsomely compelling copaganda," says C-Rob-69 at...
- Oh, wait. That was me. - Drivel for the unwashed.
The Bard, how he weeps.
- What the blazes? - Fucking
Why is there a fucking truck in our garden?
Entering the property.
There's an enemy at the gate. Hold the line.
- Shit. Guys, I'm so sorry. - You good?
Yeah. I'm with the owners. Yeah, same location.
Don't worry, insurance is gonna cover all this.
We should disembowel this guy.
- Let's fucking kill him. - Quiet on set.
- We're rolling. - Sorry.
- Sorry!
Not bad. Not bad at all, ya stud.
What are you up to, you creamy snake?
All dressed up like a bowl of millet.
I am getting ready to go to a friend's house
for a dinner party,
thank you very much.
You don't have any friends.
Uh, yeah, I do.
I've got the Monster and my boy, Joel.
Uh, w-what is a Joel? Joel?
I'm always talking about Joel.
We used to work together a few years ago in the same office.
Pushing paper around,
- generally getting after it. - Hmm.
Yeah, I love Joel. Could never bring myself to drain the guy.
So why have we never heard about him?
Well, he and I drifted apart a few years ago
when he, uh, married Becky.
He has a very nice, pinched face.
Anyway, he called me up last week and was like,
"Hey, bruh. Wanna come over for some grub, bruh?"
And I was like, "Sure, bruh. What time, bruh?"
And he was like, "Uh, 7:00, 7:30, bruh."
- Could I come with you? - Um...
Why am I doing this?
Ever since I have been working up the career ladder
at Cannon Capital,
I have been absolutely loving
my deliciously mild human interactions.
And I really want the chance to, you know,
practice my human small talk.
"Oh, hey, hon. Love that top. Where is it from?
Online? Great. I love online.
My allergies are bonkers today. Sneezing, sneezing, sneezing.
I think I'm gonna go low-key for my birthday this year."
Or, "I did the Harris Potter quiz,
and I got Slytherin. Aw."
You know, I'm trying really hard to get back to normal with Joel.
And I worry if I showed up with a nightmare
in a Civil War ghost's dress, it might freak him the fuck out.
I think it would make you look like Mr. Bigs
from the Sexy City show
to have such a mouse woman on your arm.
- Squeak, squeak. - Eh. Fuck it, why not? Sure.
Yay.
- Gizmo! - Guillermo.
Wake up, you little prick.
Get the fuck up.
- What? What? Why? What? - Invaders have just rammed a hole
- in our garden wall. - Sorry, I must've fallen asleep.
You need to get up.
We need weapons, not this fancy-ass shit.
We are about to launch a counteroffensive.
We need sickles and scythes and weaponry.
No. Whatever this is,
it sounds like a bad idea. Don't do it.
We're being invaded. We will not go empty-handed.
We are about to conquer a production
known as PI Undercover: New York.
- What? Are you serious? - Oh, yes.
- Right now? - Yes.
- Are they? Move! - Wait!
- Guillermo, wait! - Where? Where?
Guillermo, you cannot take them on single-handedly.
No. Don't ruin this for me, okay?
That is my favorite show ever.
PIUNY.
It's the perfect cozy, rainy-day show.
But it's so much more than that.
PI Undercover: New York is, like,
the crown jewel of the PI Undercover extended universe.
I mean, I love the original PI Undercover
and PI Undercover: London, but PIUNY, ah,
just hits different.
I mean, I've seen every episode, like, 12 times.
Essentially, it's a meditation on grief because
It's fantastic.
In fact, last summer I cosplayed as Jack Mancuso
at the Philadelphia Comic Con.
All the subreddit haters were, like, so jelly.
Gizmo, you sound like a fuckwit.
Do you think Cal Bodian's over there?
Do you think he'll sign my zine?
My PI Undercover fanzine. I've done everything myself.
I just took a guess about the chest hair.
He wants a Cambodian to sign his what?
Mmm.
Now, fair warning.
The stuff Joel and I used to talk about
was not necessarily family-friendly, so...
Like what?
- Eh. Just guy stuff. - Like what?
- Don't worry about it. - Tell me.
- I'll tell you later. - No, tell me now.
- Boobs. - Hmm.
They're here!
Hey!
There he is.
- What's up? What's up? - Oh, my G... What's up?
This is look at him.
- The prodigal cubicle-mate returns. - Hey!
- Hi. - Hello.
Thank you so much for coming.
This is Nadja, my girlfriend.
I have heard so much about you, and wow.
Your top is so lovely and warm.
Reminds me of, um, PSL season.
Pumpkin spice latte. I love those.
I never know if people are on... on drugs.
- What... What is all this? - Oh, Nadja, she's a YouTuber.
Huge, uh, YouTuber.
Search "Carrie Bradshaw walking" and you'll find my channel.
- She films everything, you know? - Hello.
- Mostly... - Welcome.
- Oh. - This is Becky.
- What the "hecky?" Hi, Becky. - Hello, Colin. How are you?
I'm well. How are you? Uh, this is Nadja, my girlfriend.
Nice to pleasure.
Girlfriend. It's... It's lovely to meet you.
I'm gonna go check on the salmon.
I hope by salmon you mean wine. 'Cau I'm a woman. I love wine.
No, I meant fish.
Well, ladies to the kitchen, men to the conversation.
You go do it, girlfriend.
Listen, I know you said no gifts, but, uh,
- there you go. - This is totally unnecessary.
But I ain't mad at it.
I'm surprised you actually had time to have us over
with the season starting soon
and pitchers and catchers reporting in, like, 11 days.
Go Mets, right?
You know what? I'm not even really feeling baseball anymore.
Those fucking rule changes.
- It's a Mike Piazza baseball card. - Yeah, I didn't know.
- Is it signed? - It is.
So, I spent the last two weeks binge-watching every Mets game
from the past seven years.
Baseball is extremely slow, even for me.
That's a lot of time I'm not gonna get back.
So, baseball's out. What are you into now?
- We watch Top Chef. - Top Chef. Yeah, me too. Me too.
- Cool. - Where's your bathroom?
I need to do a a number three.
- What? - Ayo.
I don't un what's a three?
- Remember on our days in the office? - Yeah.
We would go down to the third floor
to do our big smelly poos.
- I think I kinda remember that. - Where's your bathroom?
- It's upstairs. - Okay.
- So nice. - Thank you.
A little kiss for my "banooney."
And one for me, my banana.
Act normal.
Your taste is just...
Thank you. I just like solid colors.
Hmm. Maroon.
Traveling to base camp. You over at video village?
Let us storm their base camp.
And lay waste to their video village.
- Last looks. - Indeed they are.
- Et tu, Seanie? - Hey, fellas.
- What the shit? - I rent my bathroom out to the crew.
He has succumbed to the King's shilling.
Oh, come on. I do this all the time.
You know how many movies have wanted to rent
my little potty?
We have lost our greatest ally to the other side. Let's go.
Think about all the legendary piss
that's flowing through those pipes.
Diane Keaton's piss.
Jim Carrey's piss!
Mike Barbooglio's piss!
The salmon smells amazing, Becky!
I hope it's as good as Tiffani Faison's
monkfish from Top Chef season one.
Please let me help with, um, the touching and the boiling.
No. No, you're fine. Just relax.
Tell me, how... how did you and Colin meet?
Oh, yes. Uh...
Let us gossip like two little brain-dead bitches.
Does, um, Colin ever talk about me?
- No. That was stupid. - You know men.
They don't talk about anything
- other than, "Ouch, my balls." - Yeah. They don't talk about anything.
- Yeah. Except Colin's not like that. - Scrotum. It's...
Oh. Yes. Sorry?
Colin's not like that. Colin has never been like that.
Right. Okay.
Colin's not like other men. He's really sensitive.
And that is why he is my soft-boiled egg.
I'm very happy for you both.
Sorry. I...
I don't wanna see Colin get hurt, you know?
He's an incredible person.
I have used my brilliant powers of deduction
to detect that Becky is rock-hard in love
with Colin Robinson,
much like Carrie loved Aidan in the Sexy City show,
which I have watched every episode of.
Looks like you two ladies could use some drinks.
Did you wash the lettuce like I asked, Joel?
I was about to, yes.
So the answer's "no," not "yes" if you didn't do it.
So the answer's "no."
Okay.
Cal Bodian is still in his trailer,
probably preparing for his first scene of the day.
He usually likes to get to set
and meditate for an hour beforehand,
then he gets a snack.
Usually a muffin and a cup of tea.
He's been sober for 17 years.
Oh, my God. There he is!
That's great guys! Thank you!
Oh, wow. You have your muffin.
So cool.
Do you, uh... Do you ever read any of the fanzines?
Ah. Good evening, sir. Can I interest you in a meal?
- A succulent Chinese meal? - Wow.
I'm just saying that's where the PIUNY community really is, you know?
- Sure. - In the zines.
Mr. Bodian, would you come with me?
I have procured several prostitutes
for your viewing pleasure.
- Oh. - I will not kill you.
What scene is that for again?
Mr. Bodian, we're ready for you.
Okay. Thank you.
- Mr. Bodian But the prostitutes... - What?
No, leave him alone. Do not hurt Cal Bodian.
This is war.
Doesn't matter. That man was not the leader.
But he is the main guy on the show.
He is an actor, Nandor.
A simpleton who paints his face.
He is an empty-headed puppet who thinks the world loves him,
when in actual fact, he is nothing more
than a lapdog begging for scraps.
- Yes. - No, he is not the leader.
That would be another devil who pulls the strings.
The half-wit they call the director.
Colin Robinson, did you and Becky
ever have a thing for each other?
What? No.
She and Joel had some issues,
and I was a good listener for her.
But that was only because I wanted them to get back together
'cause Joel was so sad.
I don't know.
I think her vagina is pulsing for you.
Don't fabricate drama where there isn't any.
You wanted to come to this party
to see how the normal people live.
Well, welcome to the wonderful world of "normalos."
- Enough. - I do not get you at all.
Halt. Where is your leader?
Thank you.
"AD."
- A director. - Yes.
- Now I cut the head of the snake. - Go in.
Nice day.
Come on, Nandor.
What the fuck are you wearing?
That was actually the second assistant director,
and he made me production assistant.
They are short-staffed.
This is all good news.
- We can infiltrate them from the inside. - Yes, yes.
But first, I must go to crafty to fetch taffy for scripty.
Oh, shit. Nandor, you have been seduced
by the siren of show business.
- No, I'm infiltrating like - Where's the PA?
- We're still waiting on - whatever you said before.
Yes, go Nandor.
Yes, I'm just fetching it. What is taffy?
Oh, no.
Uh, Sy... Uh, Strai... Top. Top Gun.
Uh, Top Ramen. Top Chef. Top... Top... Top hat?
- Uh... Wait. Did you say Top Chef? - Yes, I did.
- It was Top Chef. - Nice one, dude.
Is it just me or is it so hard to locate
a good, trustworthy handyman these days?
- Yes! - It is.
When we wanted to renovate the bathroom,
I decided I'm just gonna do it myself.
You did a bathroom reno by yourself?
- Yeah, I found a guy out in Queens... - Oh, brother. Here we go.
... and he gave us these beautiful vintage tiles.
- And... - They're just tiles.
Do you wanna go to see it? It's gorgeous.
Uh, yes.
- Good luck. - Yeah.
- Is it dangerous? - No, it's just boring.
Yeah, I guess I'm a fucking idiot
'cause I saved us a lot of money and did a kick-ass job.
- What about that bathroom? - Yes. Do you wanna see it?
- Yeah. Yes, I'd love to see. - Okay. Great. Follow me.
Try not to miss me too much, my love.
Sit here, Colin.
Right here. I'm just kidding.
Hello, Colin Robinson.
Hello.
Is she, uh... Is she good to you?
- Who? - Your girlfriend.
- Sorry. I hope she's good to you. - Oh.
You... You deserve it.
Yeah, yeah. I think, you know...
Well, yeah, I think we get along really well.
It's nothing as special as what you and Joel have.
Joel? Yeah. Ol' Joel.
We've had our ups and downs over the years.
Yeah. That'll happen.
When it does, I...
I just remember
you were the only one I could talk to about it.
Do you miss our talks, Colin Robinson?
Yeah, uh...
Ready for you on set.
I think he is slumbering.
Go to two. Yeah, he's gone deep.
Cans? Anyone for cans? Would you like some cans?
Some cans? Cans? Fucking ignore me.
I already have cans on.
- You have cans? - I have cans.
Sorry. Hi.
This one can for you.
- Sure I can't tempt you with some? - Do you see 'em?
- Anyone ask for cans? - No.
Son of a
What the fuck are you doing?
Uh, we are not allowed to say what we're filming, sir.
Also, we're trying to clear the frame.
Would you mind following me over by the snack table?
- Rolling! We are rolling! - What?
All right. Shut up.
Out the way, fuckos. Fuck.
- Do you guys wanna play Pictionary? - Oh.
Joel, they don't wanna play Pictionary. It's okay.
Well, I mean if it's anything like reading a dictionary, then yeah.
Yeah, I do.
Shit. Wait, what is shit. No, no, no. Fuck.
- Oh. - How many times have I told you to replace
the fucking smoke detector?
It's my fault, of course.
Come on, girlie. Smoked salmon.
More excuse for cream cheese, am I right?
My salmon is fucked.
I love the smell of burnt salmon.
Goddamn it, Joel. You're a fucking failure.
Colin, can I ask you a favor?
Sure, Joel. Anything.
It's a little unconventional,
and so if it makes you uncomfortable,
then you just tell me, and I'll shut the hell up.
Stop. We go too far back.
I mean, we're like Stephanie Cmar
and Kristen Kish
in the Seattle season of Top Chef.
You know, they used to be roommates.
Would you ever wanna...
- Do you think that... - Just a town house.
Just go into this... Just come with me.
- Just can... - The hallway.
Yeah, this is nice.
I need you to fuck my wife.
What?
I told you it was a little unusual.
Is that something she would be
- Ravenous for? Yes. - Right.
It's something that keeps our marriage alive.
Strange request.
Yeah, okay.
Well, if it's any consolation, I'll be there the whole time.
- I'll have eyes on you... - It's no consolation.
- I have to go to the bathroom. - Okay.
- But just think about it, buddy. - Girlfriend, come here.
I think he might.
Sabotage.
Do you know what the French translation of "sabotage" is?
It's "fuck things up."
I'm gonna fuck things up for these people.
Chap in the white hat. Now, he's the director.
He doesn't know his arse from a hole in the ground.
The loudest man in the room with fuck all to say.
Surrounds himself with sycophants,
but nothing more than a tin-pot dictator.
And he's nothing without the scribe.
Now, that's the writer there.
The brains behind the whole thing,
yet hugely underappreciated.
Socially not the best,
but she's the beating heart behind the production.
She is the passionate soul of the televisual medium.
- Sir, we are still rolling. - What do you want?
- What are you doing here? - I don't care what you... Whoa.
Where the fuck did you get that sweated shirt?
This is for crew only.
Season 3 crew only, to be precise.
Yeah, I can see that.
I want one of those sweated shirts.
Well, you can't have one. That's a cut! That's a cut!
I love that sweated shirt. It is a remarkable garment.
As you can see, there's some kind of flap at the back
which is attached to the neck, which must be some kind of hood
to protect him from the weather.
On the front looks like some kind of pouch,
which I'm guessing is inspired by the kangaroo.
It's probably 50% polyester. Maybe 40% cotton.
And the rest must be rayon.
But the biggest question I have
is why the fuck has he got one of those and I haven't?
You're in the shot!
- He's in the shot. - Dude, you're in the shot!
He's fucked up.
You're still in!
You're still in the fucking shot!
Go behind the bush.
All right. Fuck it. We'll fix it in post. Back to one.
You were right. I-I don't know what to do.
I've wanted Joel's friendship for so long, but at what cost?
Colin, just stick your beak in his wife and be friends.
I just wanted a normal relationship with him, you know?
And this is not normal.
I think it's probably time to get you out of here, mister.
Come on.
Well, we better be off.
There's a Pilates class I've been promising myself
I'll make in the morning.
No. Why don't you come join us first?
There's plenty of room. Come on.
No, our dance card is filled up for the evening.
What upset you? Did my fucking idiot of a husband say something?
Uh-oh. Was I bad?
Hey, Joel, maybe next week we could go bowling?
- Yeah. - That would be so fun.
That'd be great. Just boys time,
and then you come back and fuck my wife.
Thanks for the grub. That was swirl.
Hmm.
Okay, come here.
I say, Detective Mancuso has soiled his trousers.
- His show pants? - What? Yeah. It's ghastly.
Okay. We have doubles on Cal's pants, right?
Let's go, let's go, let's go.
I'm sorry that Joel turned out to be such a depressing pervert.
I mean, I quite liked it,
but I know that you were looking for a more normal,
less sexual friend.
- Yeah. - Maybe humans are such depressing,
weird freaks because, you know,
they try so hard to be normal
that they repress all their most horny desires.
And then they just end up squirting themselves to death.
Well, wise words. Maybe you're a Carrie after all.
Lock it up. Hold there, please.
I'm so sorry, but no.
The hat? Oh, yeah, that's from season 6.
We shot them back-to-back.
- What the fuck are you doing in... - Oh.
That gear is for crew only.
Hmm. Someone's jealous of my swag.
Perhaps.
But there is one garment
that I know you will never get your hands on.
Nandor, give me that sweated shirt!
You shall never have it!
- Laszlo, get a grip. - Good idea.
No!
- You're stretching it! - Wouldn't be the first time.
Time-out, time-out.
What are we doing?
Chewed up and spat out in true Hollywood style.
We need to rain hellfire on these Hollywood pricks.
Drink the blood of the director.
Crush the balls of the best boy.
And whack all of the actors.
Yeah, let's do it.
Hey, you guys are still here?
We wrapped, like, half an hour ago.
Happy trails, guys.
We did it. We fucking did it.
Well done, Nandor.
You know, sometimes the best tactic in war
is to not fight at all.
You sound just like a writer.
- Onward! - Yeah.
Meanwhile, while Laszlo and Nandor
called wrap on their beef,
I couldn't help but wonder, if we stopped saying cut
The Cal mobile.
would we all get a little more action?
Hi, Mr. Bodian. I'm just a huge fan.
I wanted to know if I can take a picture with you quickly?
Now is not a great time. It's not a good time.
It's just for my zine, actually.
- Have you read this? - Hey!
Maybe if we could ask our friends
for just a little more quiet on set
Sign his program, you fucklord.
we'd end up with a lot less drama.
You know who the fuck I am?
You think it's not gonna be a problem for you?
Here we go!
Because even for the biggest stars,
it's important to stay grounded.
And that's when I realized
it wasn't PIUNY or show business,
or even Staten Island that kept us all together...
Colin Robinson.
Shut fuck up.
Oh, file saved.
There he is. That's the street right here.
That's where they shoot...
- Took your time, Mancuso. - This looks bad.
Bad? We just found six more inside.
Son of a bitch. The Mob.
What the hell?
I guess I know where I'm going next.
- Where's that? - Was that...
- Undercover. - Never mind.
- Synced and corrected by naFraC - - www.addic7ed.com -