(HOCKEY GAME NOISE, CHEERS)


Tim Russell Hey babes. Could you bring these nachos into the kitchen for a refill?


Sue Scott: Do it yourself, Mitch. Your legs aren't broken.


TR: I'm watching hockey, Pam. So yes, they sort of are.


(MEN CHEER, BELCH)


SS: I just want you to know, Mitch, that when the figure skating starts, five of my best friends are coming over and we're going to paint our toenails and eat Rice Krispy treats and drink white wine. And you're going to clean up after us.


TR: Good times. Looking forward to it. Just bring these nachos into the kitchen though, 'k babes?


SS: Fine. But you know what? It's "take", not "bring".


TR: Whatever, same thing. Hey, could you just move a little to the left? You're in the way.


SS: No, Mitch, it's not the same thing. You bring something "to" somewhere-you take something "from". It's like addition and subtraction.


TR: Yeah, well it'd be great if you could subtract yourself from in front of the TV right now.


(MALE CHEERS, SUDDEN DISAPPOINTMENT, FOOTSTEPS, DOOR OPEN, DOOR CLOSE. FOOTSTEPS)


GK: Hi. Can I help?


SS: Oh-- Carson--I thought you were watching the game.


GK: Violence doesn't interest me that much. I care more about nuance, frankly. I forgot all about the Olympics. I was on my way to my book group. And I came here by mistake. And once I got here I figured it would be rude to leave, and so--


SS: A book group? What are you reading?


GK: Ethan Frome. By Edith Wharton.


SS: So does that mean-- you're--


GK: An English Major? Yes, of course.


SS: Oh my gosh. I love Edith Wharton. I cried for a week after Ethan Frome. Love is tragedy. That's all there is to it. Romantic love is tragedy.


GK: It was probably the greatest fatal sled crash in all of literature-- I think of it when I watch the luge run. So-- your husband and you-- do you--?


SS: He's not my husband. It's just one of those ambiguous long-term relationships.


GK: Then what are we waiting for? Let's get out of here. We'll get in a car and drive to Key West. Just you and me.


SS: Sure. And two miles down the road, we'll run into a bridge abutment and break our necks and spend the next twenty years as quadriplegics in a nursing home staring at each other, just like Ethan and Mattie in Ethan Frome.


GK: You really take tragedy seriously--


SS: Go. Leave. Now.


GK: But I love you-- I love your darkness--


SS: Go. Rip the heart out of my chest. Slam the door on your way out and I'll go upstairs and cry and cry and cry and cry. And then I'll write the best short story I ever wrote in my life.


GK: You want me to go?


SS: Go. That way. Goodbye. (TREMBLING) Goodbye, love of my life. Goodbye, my English major.


TR (OFF): Hey come in here! You're missing a great game!!! And take me a beer from the fridge while you're at it. (DOOR CLOSE)

(THEME)


GK: A message from the Partnership of English Majors.