[Tess, Randy Jackson and Ellen Degeneres are finishing a potluck. They are gathered around the table.]

Randy Jackson: Okay, okay, so listen, listen, okay, here’s the deal: that pot roast did not work for me tonight, dog. No, it was terrible, it wasn’t the best. Sorry. It was terrible.

Tess: Okay. Well, you know, I’d have to agree. But I don’t think we should hurt Ellen’s feelings.

Ellen Degeneres: You know when you’re walking in the park, and you see a little dog, and you think, “Oh, I wish I had a little dog —”

Tess: I have to stop you there. Because I don’t want to do this.

Ellen Degeneres: Do what?

Tess: I’ve been having this problem with how you talk.

Randy Jackson: Yeah, dog, I know, she rambles.

Tess: I don’t know that I’d call it rambling. It’s like, okay, Ellen. You have something to say. Why don’t you just say it?

Ellen Degeneres: You didn’t even let me finish! I was going to say that if you’re at the park, and you see a little dog, you think that you wish the dog were yours, but then when you’re at home, and you’re in your house, you wonder, “Hey, would that little dog be chewing on my shoes and would I have to get those awful dog pads to put on my balc—”

Tess: See, I’m stopping you again. Cut to the chase. What’s the point? Forget about the dog. What about the pot roast?

Ellen Degeneres: Be patient. I’m getting to that.

Tess: No. You will never get to it.

Randy Jackson: Yeaaah, see, I’m going to agree on this one. I see what you’re doing, though, E. You’re trying to come off as friendly. But you know, it’s like, time keeps marching on, man. Yeah. It’s not working for me.

Tess: See, the thing is that you seem to be veiling your real thoughts and opinions with all of these analogies. They’re not illuminating and they’re not funny. You know, American Idol isn’t leisurely, Ellen. It’s high-stakes. I want you to nail those contestants to the freaking cross when they’re pitchy!

Randy Jackson: Oooh, when they’re pitchy, dog, it’s the worst!

Ellen Degeneres: Can’t you see that I’m the nice one? Can’t you understand that I was brought in to bring some of Paula’s tenderness to the whole experience? These are sixteen year old kids! If I were heading downtown and it was snowing out —

Tess: Stop that.

Ellen Degeneres: — but if it was snowing and I —

Tess: Seriously. Stop it.

Ellen Degeneres: [starts to speak, but Randy claps a hand over her mouth]

Randy Jackson: Dog. Be real.

Tess: I don’t even want her to talk because she’ll never stop doing this. Seriously, Ellen, I want you to never speak again.

[tense silence. Randy removes his hand from Ellen’s mouth. Ellen doesn’t speak.]

Tess: Well, I didn’t mean to make it awkward.

Randy Jackson: Nah, it’s not awkward!

[tense silence.]

Tess: Okay, Ellen, you can speak.

Ellen Degeneres: I don’t feel like it anymore.

Tess: So you don’t even see what I’m saying at all. You don’t agree.

Ellen Degeneres: This is who I am! This is how I talk!

Tess: I just want to help you stop making me hate you!

[the doorbell rings. Randy answers it. It’s Jillian Michaels.]

Randy Jackson: [to Jillian] Look dog, it’s mad tense in there. This might not be working for you. It might not be working for me, for you, for me.

Jillian Michaels: Oh, I’ve dealt with drama. I’ve dealt with problems. [whispering] So, she’s here?

Randy Jackson: Who?

Jillian Michaels: Ellen.

Randy Jackson: Yeah, we got E.

Jillian Michaels: I’ve got to talk to her. [Jillian strides across the room and jumps on the arm of a sofa to perch next to Ellen]

Ellen Degeneres: Hi, Jillian. I was just leaving. I encountered some aggression and I don’t feel like I need to, you know, act like I’m a person who’s in an airport in Houston and has just seen this tiny bottle of —

Jillian Michaels: Hey, what are you really feeling? What are you feeling?

Ellen Degeneres: Well, kind of like a person who just saw a tiny bottle of —

Jillian Michaels: WRONG!

Ellen Degeneres: Wrong?

Jillian Michaels: Yeah. Houston. The airport. What are you trying to say? What do you feel? Yeah, new judge, what’s she got? WHAT’S SHE GOT TO SHOW US? HOW SHE FEELS??

Ellen Degeneres: I do think it’s hard to be the new judge. [she begins to weep] You know, crying is like when you make a terrarium but you forget to make a sort of, holes-poked-through, kind of, ventilated —

[Jillian leaps on Ellen and pins her to the ground]

Jillian Michaels: GET UP!

Ellen Degeneres: I can’t, you’re on top of me!

Jillian Michaels: That’s 120 pounds of lean protein and muscle. LIFT!

Ellen Degeneres: Stop! Stop! You’re stepping on my tie!

Jillian Michaels: GET UP AND TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL!

Randy Jackson: [to Tess] She’s not an anti-gastric-bypass dog, is she?

Tess: [to Randy] I wouldn’t bring it up. Should we help her?

Randy Jackson: We are helping her, dog. We’re helping her to learn.

Ellen Degeneres: Please! Please! Let me up!

Jillian Michaels: USE YOUR CORE!

[they struggle. Eventually Ellen shoves Jillian off of her and get up. Ellen wipes sweat from her face.]

Ellen Degeneres: Okay, okay! Tim and Katie need to go! They need to go home and I know it! The one I hate the most is Didi Benami! She always disappoints me! I hate when I have to dance and sing on my show! Did you know that? Nobody does! Nobody knows!

[she collapses into a sobbing heap. Jillian does a handstand next to her and speaks from her position upside-down against the wall]

Jillian Michaels: And why does Ryan always try to make you make out with Simon?

Ellen Degeneres: I know. [hiccup] I know.

Jillian Michaels: You didn’t siphon off the grease from the pot roast. [pause] That’s why it was so bad. And it was fattening. You made a mistake.

Randy Jackson: Dog, that is what it was! That was the problem! Aw, dog, I’m going to keep this short but that roast was not off the chain, it was all oily and just, oh, dog.

Tess: I knew I felt fatter. Jillian, how did you know?

Jillian Michaels: I could feel it when I pinned her. I’m a food empath.

Ellen Degeneres: Feeling pinned was like when —

[she’s silenced by their stares]

Ellen Degeneres: Well, time to go.

[Tess is waiting outside of Lindsay Lohan’s house. She knocks. No answer. She texts Lindsay: “I’m outside.” The door opens a crack.]

Lindsay Lohan: Who are you?

Tess: Oh, I’m sorry…I’m…didn’t you invite me over for dinner?

Lindsay Lohan: What?

Tess: It’s Tess. You know. You came over for dinner that time?

Lindsay Lohan: What time.

Tess: You know, with Mo’Nique…and then you left with Bi— uh, James Belushi?

Lindsay Lohan: That night was terrible. I thought I might get a spot on According to Jim. That guy just smoked all my weed and peaced out when I started texting my mom.

Tess: Well, maybe if it hadn’t been canceled…also, maybe I should tell you, that wasn’t James Belushi. It was Bill Murray. It’s almost, you know, better! Right?

Lindsay Lohan: I don’t follow politics.

Tess: He’s an actor.

Lindsay Lohan: Why are you here?

Tess: You sent me an Evite about a dinner party. You know what, I’ll leave.

Lindsay Lohan: Oh, oh my God. That’s tonight?

Tess: It’s March 8th, right?

Lindsay Lohan: I have no idea.

Tess: Oh, well…it is.

Lindsay Lohan: Fuck! Come in, come in, you have to help me clean up!

Tess: Clean up what?

Lindsay Lohan: This is really embarrassing…I’m a hoarder.

Tess: Yikes. How’re your kitchen and bathroom looking?

Lindsay Lohan: They’re all filled with old meatloaf and dust bunnies and dead ferrets.

Tess: Maybe we should reschedule?

Lindsay Lohan: There’s no time! Everyone is on their way!

Tess: Who’s everyone?

Lindsay Lohan: The guy from Grizzly Man, the guy from American Movie, and the guy from Darkon.

Tess: Wait, wasn’t this dinner party supposed to happen, like, weeks ago? And aren’t a lot of people missing?

Lindsay Lohan: Tess, I don’t even know what day it is and I have a room the size of a New York City penthouse that’s just filled with shoes and mouse droppings. Seriously. I’m just not — [she starts to cry]

Tess: Hey, hey now. There, there. I don’t think these dudes are going to care. One of them was eaten by a bear, one of them can’t pronounce the name of his own movie, and the last one builds cardboard armor and calls himself Keldar. I think they’re, like, non-judgmental.

[Tess enters Lindsay’s house. It is disgusting.]

Tess: [CONT’D] Whoaaa, hey, are you going to cook? Or what’s the deal?

Lindsay Lohan: The only thing I know how to cook is crank. And Altoids.

Tess: This won’t do. Do you have any bacon? That I can candy with maple syrup?

Lindsay Lohan: I just have these ferrets…

Tess: Let’s just clean up. Oooh, is this Marc Jacobs? Can I have it?

Lindsay Lohan: [crying intensifies] That’s Samaaaaaaantha’s!

Tess: Shoot, I knew there’d be emotions.

[doorbell rings. Tess opens it. It’s Dr. Zasio.]

Dr. Zasio: I heard that somebody was a chronic clutterer.

Tess: It’s a bad time, Dr. Zasio. We’re having friends over.

Dr. Zasio: Do I smell marsupials?

Tess: There’s some ferret…detritus.

Dr. Zasio: [enters house] Lindsay? Lindsay, can I tour your home? We have a crew all ready to help you.

Lindsay Lohan: Go away, go away!! I don’t want you and your cameras up in my business!

Dr. Zasio: But you signed the release.

Lindsay Lohan: Shit, is today March 8th?

Tess: Oh, you overbooked! Seriously, Dr. Zasio, there’s been a mix-up. You’ll have to come back.

Dr. Zasio: This is a disease. Don’t feel shame.

Lindsay Lohan: Please, Tess, tell her to go!

Tess: Dr. Zasio —

[doorbell rings. Dr. Zasio answers. It is Kenyon Wells, AKA Keldar.]

Keldar: Hail Mordom! I come on behalf of all Mordomians!

Dr. Zasio: Are you the organizer?

Keldar: Yes, I am their leader.

Dr. Zasio: Great. We have our work cut out for us.

Keldar: This I know, as Laconia has gained both men and prowess, and threatens our powerful nation!

Dr. Zasio: There are also ferrets. Wear gloves.

Keldar: I hath brought mine armor! Whoa, hold up. Is that Lindsay Lohan?

Lindsay Lohan: Don’t look at me! Who’s that guy!

Tess: Keldar. You invited him.

Lindsay Lohan: Wait, what’s the date of today?

Everyone: March 8th.

Lindsay Lohan: Oh, fuck.

[doorbell rings. Keldar answers it, brandishing his sword. It is Mark Borchardt.]

Mark Borchardt: Shit, man, swords!

Keldar: This is my white double-blade. If I assassinate you, you must wait twelve hours before your reincarnation.

Mark Borchardt: Man, I’d hate to do that. Okay, very cool: I brought you guys some Whoppers. They’re flame broiled.

Lindsay Lohan [suddenly in better spirits, holding a cocktail shaker]: To go with our Altoidtinis!

Dr. Zasio: Is this young man also with the crew?

Mark Borchardt: Sure, man, I’m the producer/director.

Lindsay Lohan: You are? You are?! Oh, great. Great! For what?

Mark Borchardt: Independent movies that are good as hell.

Lindsay Lohan: You’ll have to excuse the…state…of my, you know, humble adobe.

Tess: Abode.

Mark Borchardt: The dude abodes.

[no one laughs]

Keldar: We have business to attend to, underlings. The state of — what’s this land? Let me get the map —

Lindsay Lohan: I know my zip code!

Keldar: — Lohannesburg. Our enemy encroaches. They are the undead mongrels of the underworld. They know no Loth. We must rally our forces against them and NEVER, NEVER shall they overtake us!

Dr. Zasio: He’s talking about things, Lindsay. We grow attached to them, but what we’re really attached to are our memories.

[Timothy Treadwell enters from a bedroom. He has his hands cupped around something.]

Timothy Treadwell: Let me tell you. Honestly. This moth is amazing.

Dr. Zasio: The bugs, they’re drawn to clutter.

Timothy Treadwell: People who hate moths should be labeled as stupid, stupid, ignorant stupid people. I have lived longer among moths without weapons than any human on earth.

[Keldar smacks the moth out of Timothy’s hand with his sword]

Keldar: Take that! And that! Do not invade Lohannesburg, vermin!

Timothy Treadwell: I will get you! You will frickin die here! We’re all great people with wonderful things inside of us but we’re different and I love moths enough to do this right! I’m edgy enough and I’m tough enough and I love moths enough to —

Keldar: To what?

Mark Borchardt: Man, I’m surprised at how refreshing this Altoidtini is.

Timothy Treadwell: You, mister sword, you will regret ever having messed with this son of nature!

Dr. Zasio: Timothy, may I borrow you for a moment?

[they step aside. Mark, Tess, Keldar and Lindsay clear a space in the rubble for their Whoppers and Altoidtinis]

Lindsay Lohan: Do you know Martin Scorsese?

Mark Borchardt: Sure, man.

Lindsay Lohan: This is the best day of my life. We just have to get Martin on the phone. I’ve emailed him but I think there’s a problem with his email because I don’t get a response right away sometimes when I email him, and I thought maybe it was because it was late at night or sometimes my address goes right to spam for some reason and —

Mark Borchardt: You know, I think you might be pretty good for this role in my upcoming picture, it’s about these zombies who take over a mini-mall and their army —

Keldar: I know of what you speak.

Lindsay Lohan: Just tell me the date and time and I’ll be there. But remind me. In case I mix up my days.

Mark Borchardt: Sweet, do you BBM?

Keldar: No, the term is LARPing.

[Dr. Zasio enters with a calmer Timothy Treadwell.]

Dr. Zasio: It’s called OCD, and it’s okay to have it.

Timothy Treadwell: Expedition 2010 is coming to an end for Grizzly People. For ferret people, and people who can’t throw away the clothes they wore to awards ceremonies. I came here to protect the animals as best I could, but nature had another thing in mind. And by nature, I mean that guy [points at Keldar, who is mid-Whopper bite], but by the way I still hate you for what you did to that innocent creature.

Keldar: [through food] Ah, human, nature always wins. For you were eaten by a bear, and thus nature spoke.

[gravid silence]

Dr. Zasio: Progress seems to have been…derailed. Can I have one of those minty martinis? It helps numb my nose to the scents in here. I guess we’ll just have to save the clean up for day two.

Lindsay Lohan: When is day two?

Dr. Zasio: Tomorrow. March 9th.

Lindsay Lohan: Damn…it’s still March 8th?

I’m going to be contributing to Meaghan and Melissa’s upcoming non-fiction sex anthology, Coming & Crying. I was so excited, I wrote a Dinner Party about it. You can back the project here, if you want to read what I have to say about the venerable hand job.

Here’s the announcement:

C&C Contributors, Part 5: Tess Lynch

posted about 2 hours ago

Tess Lynch lives out in LA, grew up in New York, can currently be found on your television starring in a Crest™ Commericial (!!!), and is one of my favorite writers on the world wide web. She’s hilarious, smart, genuine, and oftentimes delightfully, well, weird. Ya know, in a good way. A good, smart way. The best way! One of my favorite examples of the Tess Lynch Good-Weird are her much-beloved Fake Dinner Party Conversations, wherein she pretend-invites real characters into her actual home to have imaginary conversations and then writes about them.

Naturally, we thought this was the best way to introduce her:

Tess, Meaghan, William Shakespeare and Judy Blume are sitting around a conference table.

Meaghan: So, Tess, how do you feel about the ambiguity of writing for the internet? You know, considering yourself a writer, but fighting the distinction of “writer versus blogger,” creating an audience yourself as opposed to —

William Shakespeare: Bring forth my vittles, for this is a celebration that calls each son of man to dine and imbibe the finest distillation of the grapes of our labor!

Judy Blume: Yeah, where’s the dinner? Isn’t this a dinner party?

Tess: No no, it’s an interview. You guys are going to ask me questions.

William Shakespeare: But what countrywoman, who sayest thou thou art?

Tess: I’m Tess Lynch. I’m contributing to Coming & Crying.

Judy Blume: David Lynch? I’ve heard of him.

Meaghan: This is kind of what I was getting at with my question. About writing versus blogging.

Tess: It’s hard to accept the possibility of the decline of paperbacks, libraries, and dust jackets. It’s really hard. But at the same time, I think I’m in a better position because of blogging than I would be if it were just me with a scroll and a quill.

[William Shakespeare nods in appreciation.]

Tess: [cont’d] Being able to visualize your audience — and, often, you’re part of their audience, because you follow them on Tumblr or read them inThe Awl or This Recording — makes you willing to open up to them in a way you can’t with print. There is, you know, a sense of community. It makes me optimistic about the validity of new media. That’s why your book is so exciting!

Judy Blume: Thank you.

Tess: I was talking to Meaghan.

Judy Blume: What book is this?

Meaghan: A non-fiction sex anthology. Actually, Judy, Tess and I both thought of you as a kind of milestone sex writer. You taught us a lot.

Judy Blume: Why, Meaghan — I’m touched.

Meaghan: Yeah, it was basically you and, you know, the instructions in our mom’s tampon boxes.

William Shakespeare: And also Othello.

Tess: That didn’t make the list.

William Shakespeare: This interview creeps at a petty pace.

Meaghan: Next one was…[shuffles notecards]…Judy, close your ears for a second.

Judy Blume: Why?

Meaghan: I feel like you’re going to be offended. Don’t be offended!

[Judy Blume earmuffs]

Meaghan: [cont’d] You used to mock the sex scenes in Forever, right?

Tess: Totally. The ski trip! But I feel like Forever was also the most honest account of sex, in a way. Judy, you can listen now. Like what’s that book’s equivalent now? I don’t think there is one. Twilight is the opposite. In sixth grade my friends and I would read parts of Forever aloud to make each other uncomfortable. But how explicit it was is so relatable.

William Shakespeare: Just like in Othello!

Tess: I think this book is brave. It’s easy to get around writing about sex, and maybe that’s what makes it awkward to read, sometimes. But it’s also the parts you skip to, dog-ear. They make you feel something. And it’s great to get the opportunity to get this volume as a real-life book, because sex is more sexy when it’s not on a computer screen.

Judy Blume: That was my thinking with Summer Sisters.

Van Morrison: …and then I drank the cool, cool water from the spring!

Joni Mitchell: [fondly] Mmhmm.

Tess: Who was it you said you were with at the time, Van?

Van Morrison: Oh, just my gypsy queen.

Joni Mitchell: Doesn’t he have the best stories? I love his stories.

Van Morrison: And then I took myself down the Celtic way, down by Longbarth road, up in the Kalleyvale mountains…[he performs a jig]

Tess: God, he’s so much fun!

Joni Mitchell: I brought my guitar, guys, let’s jam!

[Elvis comes out of the bathroom, sweaty but jovial]

Elvis: [quietly, almost to himself] I’m going to fry the shit out of those bananas.

Tess: Excuse me? Hey, you want to come sit over here? We were gonna jam.

Van Morrison: Come on down the Celtic way!

Elvis: Y’all aren’t hungry…or…

Joni Mitchell: C’mon man, we just finished dinner ten minutes ago! Let’s make some music!

Elvis: Well, okay.

[They begin to jam. Each of their faces is a study in delight: Joni does the harmonies, Tess passes the bong to Elvis, Van Morrison does part of “Want a Danish.” They wrap things up, Elvis still noodling around on the guitar]

Tess: You guys, I think this is the most fun I’ve ever had.

Van Morrison: I haven’t had this good a time since I was in County Kildare!

Elvis: [between chords] Y’all…I hope you don’t mind…but I sent a little Facebook invite to my friend. He might stop by.

Tess: Great! The more the merrier!

Van Morrison: I hope it’s James Joyce or Jesus Christ!

Joni Mitchell: I hope it’s Madame Curie. I really hope it’s her.

Tess: It’s probably not her.

Joni Mitchell: Well, we’ll see.

Tess: Elvis said “he.”

Joni Mitchell: Look at him. He’s obviously confused.

[doorbell rings]

Joni Mitchell: [cont’d] So we’ll see.

[Tess opens the door. It is Jay Leno.]

Jay Leno: Well good evening! Nyuk nyuk nyuk! I came over from Burbank on the fi—

[Tess slams the door shut]

Elvis: C’mon, sugar, let him in.

Tess: Why did you do this? Why did you do this?

Van Morrison: Who is it?

Tess: Jay Leno.

Van Morrison: What! But he was just so horrible to wee Conan!

Joni Mitchell: Enough is enough, he can’t have everything he wants!

Elvis: Show some compassion, people. Joni, I thought you were a hippie. Jay doesn’t have many friends, nowadays, and he needs a friend.

Tess: I really don’t want to open the door.

[Elvis strides over to the door and opens it.]

Elvis: Hey Jay, what d’ya say? [they hug]

Jay Leno: A king. He really is a king.

Joni Mitchell: Well, it’s late.

Van Morrison: It is. I better go hard-nose the highway.

Tess: Ugh, Elvis, this ruins everything. You don’t understand. Some of us are just really turned off to him, you know? It’s like, he knows I didn’t want him at this party, and then he shows up, you know, why? Because you just give him what he wants? [Elvis laughs uncomfortably] God, Elvis, I’m being serious here!

Elvis: You kids are real uptight. C’mon, can’t you see he’s crying!

[Jay Leno is crying]

Joni Mitchell: Oh, that’s awful to see. Please, stop crying! [Joni Mitchell starts crying]

Van Morrison: I’m still with Coco.

Tess: Okay, fine, come in.

[Jay Leno comes in]

Jay Leno: Joni, Joni, I know how you feel. You know? I wish I had a river I could skate away on.

Tess: That’s really sad. [starts to cry]

Elvis: Well if there’s one thing you all don’t need, it’s another hungry mouth to feed…[he creeps off into kitchen]

[Everyone else stands around and cries]

Tess: Carrie, I’m so glad you made it!

Carrie: Well, I’m not actually here. But of course, you know that! This is your mind we’re in, after all!

Tess: Yes, and because it’s my mind, tonight you’ve made…some delicious looking penne arrabiata!

Carrie: Oh.

Tess: I don’t know! Okay, what did you make?

Carrie: Something more interesting?

Tess: Fine. How about an entire duck cured in tea?

Carrie: Well, that’s not really my sty—

Tess: WELL THAT’S WHAT YOU MADE.

Carrie: What did you make?

Tess: Blinis with house-cured salmon and creme fraiche and caviar.

Carrie: Cured…here? In your house?

Tess: I’ve got a smoker out back. [they snicker] So, Timothy should be here soon.

Carrie: Timothy Treadwell??

Tess: Yep. The same.

Carrie: I thought he got eaten by a bear.

Tess: Carrie, what don’t you get? There are no rules here. In fact — [doorbell rings] look at that.

Carrie: You just made the doorbell ring.

Tess: I’m telling you, I can do anything with my mind.

[they open the door. Nobody is there]

Tess: Ugh, this must be a glitch in the matrix. Hang on. Let me concentrate.

Carrie: This is whack.

Tess: Timothy? Are you here? Where are you? Timothy, I summon you! I summon you from the dead! Come to my dinner party. Materialize. Come back from the bear. [they wait] Timothy!!

[Timothy Treadwell hops down from a tree.]

Timothy Treadwell: How dare you! How dare you summon me from the dead!

Carrie: We made you dinner!

Timothy Treadwell: Nobody made dinner for my friends Sassibold and Garmiloques.

Tess: Who are they?

Timothy Treadwell: [mockingly] Who are they. Ignoring them. Horrible!

Carrie: What’s he talking about?

Timothy Treadwell: The squirrels in this tree! Who’s looking after them?

Tess: I could throw them some seeds.

Timothy Treadwell: How dare you mock me! How dare you smear me with your seeds!

Tess: No, no, seriously. Hang on. [retrieves some seeds, throws them at the tree. Little chirps from the tree] See?

Timothy Treadwell: I feel mildly better.

Tess: Will you come in? Sit down? Have a drink?

Timothy Treadwell: I don’t drink. Nature is my wine.

Tess: A drink of Fanta?

Timothy Treadwell: Orange or purple?

Tess: I have some strawberry.

Timothy Treadwell: Oooh. Okay.

[they go inside. Timothy crouches on the sofa, sipping his Fanta.]

Carrie: So, what happened to your girlfriend?

Timothy Treadwell: Who?

Carrie: Your girlfriend? Who was on…that trip with you?

Timothy Treadwell: The bear?

Carrie: No…the human.

Timothy Treadwell: Can’t place her! I remember Spirit, though!

Tess: The fox?

Timothy Treadwell: He wasn’t just a fox.

Carrie: Was he a fantastic Mr. Fox?

[dead silence]

Tess: Well, time for dinner!

[doorbell rings]

Tess: Weird. I don’t think I invited anyone else.

Timothy Treadwell: Sassibold! Garmiloques!

Tess: The squirrels can’t come in the house. I have cats.

Timothy Treadwell: CATS???!

Tess: Yeah, and Sadie. Hang on, though, getting the door.

Timothy Treadwell: Carrie? Take me to the animals. Take. Me. To. Them.

Carrie: Please don’t agitate them.

[Tess goes to the door. She opens it. It is Jeffrey Steingarten.]

Jeffrey Steingarten: [huffing and puffing] That’s quite a hill you have there.

Tess: Did I…invite you? Not to be rude.

Jeffrey Steingarten: Well, that is a little rude. You live very far east.

Tess: Thank you.

Jeffrey Steingarten: [comes right into the house] So, what kind of cuisine will I be served tonight?

Tess: Well. That’s the thing. I actually never want to serve you food I’ve cooked.

Jeffrey Steingarten: Were you raised in a barn? Have I done something to offend you, or have you the manner of some wild turkey?

Tess: Look, I don’t want to offend you. Really. It’s just that you’re a really harsh critic and sometimes you…don’t hold back.

Jeffrey Steingarten: But I eat everything.

Tess: But you manage to enjoy very little of it. And, you know, my friend Carrie is here…I have an internet-cooking reputation to maintain…I kind of don’t know if I want to give you a chance to tear apart my house-cured salmon…

Jeffrey Steingarten: In this house?

Tess: Out back. In the smoker.

Jeffrey Steingarten: Why are you smiling?

Tess: No, nothing.

Jeffrey Steingarten: What else? Bacon?

Tess: No…a duck cured in tea.

Jeffrey Steingarten: Well, that’s quite ambitious.

Tess: Carrie did it. But you know, don’t tear her apart either. Also, Timothy Treadwell is here.

Jeffrey Steingarten: Who?

Tess: It’s hard to explain. Come on in. Want some Fanta?

Jeffrey Steingarten: I loathe Fanta. Except the strawberry flavor.

Tess: It’s the strawberry.

Jeffrey Steingarten: I am enthused.

[they enter the house. Carrie is guarding Sadie from Timothy Treadwell, who is offering her treats from a tiny leather sack around his neck]

Carrie: Thank God you’re back.

Timothy Treadwell: Come here, Sympatico. That’s right! That’s right! You’re a wolf!

Jeffrey Steingarten: It’s not a wolf. It’s a dog. Who are you?

Timothy Treadwell: I’m an explorer and conservationist!

Tess: He died, but he’s back. For dinner.

Jeffrey Steingarten: How did he die?

Carrie: Eaten by a bear while filming a documentary.

Jeffrey Steingarten: That’s funny. I’ve eaten bear.

Tess: Shh! The bear ate him!

Timothy Treadwell: You hurt — a bear?

Jeffrey Steingarten: Somebody else did. I just ate the thing.

Carrie: Tess, can I talk to you for a second?

[Tess goes into a corner with Carrie]

Carrie [con’t]: Basically, I’m kind of afraid of Jeffrey Steingarten. You know? I’ve seen him judge on Iron Chef. He’s super-harsh.

Tess: Sheesh. I feel the same way. I tried to get him to go.

Carrie: Does he know what we’re having? [beat] Oh my God. I’M MAKING DUCK CURED IN TEA!

Tess: I have to make him leave.

Carrie: [frantic] Did you really smoke the salmon? Did you smoke it here? Can we offer him some salmon and say, now go? There is no duck?

Tess: Carrie…I’m kind of embarrassed…but I smoked that salmon in weed.

Carrie: Shut. Up.

Tess: No, I really did. It’s going to taste like weed and make everybody so high. Jeffrey is going to hate the salmon, and then Timothy will re-live being eaten by the bear because that’s what happens when he’s high. [beat] I JUST WASN’T THINKING!

Carrie: We’ve got to figure some way out of this!

Tess: I need to think.

Carrie: Oh my God, look. LOOK!

[they turn around. Jeffrey is smacking his lips, alone.]

Tess: Jeffrey. Where’d Timothy go?

Jeffrey: I never thought you’d present me with such a filling and exciting meal!

Carrie: What have you done? Where’s Timothy?

Tess: Jeffrey, where’s the dog? JEFFREY, WHERE IS THE DOG?

Jeffrey: I tried to catch her, but she was too quick.

Carrie: You ate Timothy??

Jeffrey: I am the man who eats everything!

[Carrie and Tess scream as Jeffrey flies out the door, belching]

Tess: So, do you want to try the salmon? Just to make ourselves forget?

Carrie: I could take a whirl on that duck tip, too.

Tess: So then I muddled the ginger simple syrup with raspberries.

Barbara Walters: Fascinating. So you say you…muddled it?

Tess: Yeah, you know, smoosh it with a spoon…

Barbara Walters: I’ll simply have to muddle more drwinks in the future.

Tess: Drwinks?

Barbara Walters: Can I tell you something else I just find fascinating?

Tess: Sure, what is it?

Barbara Walters: I recently discovered that “squabs” are the same as “pigeons.” Can you believe I didn’t know that?

Tess: I think I knew that.

Barbara Walters: I bet you did, but isn’t it perplexing that I didn’t? You realize I’m about eighty years old! An octogenarian!

Tess: Whoa, whoa, shut the fuck up, you’re 80?

Barbara Walters: Why yes, I am!

Tess: Hold still while I look at your face. Is that your real face?

Barbara Walters: First you’ll have to muddle me another drwink!

Tess: You’re up and wandering around? Working and wearing incredible coat dresses and — your eyelids. Are those real?

[Doorbell rings]

Tess: To be continued.

Barbara Walters: I hope it’s someone fascinating.

[Tess answers the door. It is Andrew W.K. His face is covered in blood.]

Tess: Woooo!! Andrew W.K.! Yeah!! Woooo!

[Andrew W.K. stares at her angrily]

Andrew W.K.: Can I please come in? I’m desperate to wash this blood off my face.

Tess: Sure but — isn’t that, you know, your thing? Don’t you want to keep it on? We could all party! Barbara’s here! I told her how you love to party, and…she was kind of excited to party.

Andrew W.K.: Oh. I see you haven’t heard.

Tess: Haven’t heard what? I mean, there was that rumor that you’re not real…but you refuted that, right? [beat] Right, Andrew? Mr. W.K.?

Andrew W.K.: Nah, it’s true. It was all a charade. I hate to party. I feel like I’m all partied out.

Tess: Partied out?

Andrew W.K.: I don’t mean to be rude, but do you think I can come in? Seriously. I just want to get this stuff off my face and sit down and eat dinner. Have a nice, civilized conversation with Barbara, just…as myself. Not Andrew W.K., but Joshua Lawrence-Weiss.

Tess: Who’s he?

Andrew W.K.: He’s — I’m —

Tess: I get it. But WHO. IS. HE.

Andrew W.K.: Wait, are you actually angry with me?

Tess: Do you know what the point of this dinner party was?

[Barbara Walters materializes behind Tess]

Barbara Walters: Well, who are you?

Tess: This is Andrew W.K.

Andrew W.K.: Actually, I was just explaining this, but I’m Joshua Lawrence-Weiss.

Barbara Walters: Why is there blood all over your face, darling?

Tess: That’s from when he was pretending to be Andrew W.K. I thought he would still be Andrew W.K. when he got here, which is why I invited him. Now he’s just some guy. [to Barbara] I’ve been trying to get him to leave but he won’t take the hint.

Andrew W.K.: Mrs. Walters, I’ve been excited to meet you. I’ve had the craziest decade. I spent all of it pretending to be the kind of badass who smacks himself in the face with a brick and then rocks out so hard he explodes in a meteor shower of sweat and tangled locks of hair and magic onstage. But that was a lie. I’m just a guy named Joshua who wanted to make a buck, you know?

Barbara Walters: Sure, okay.

Andrew W.K.: And you can’t imagine the kind of strain I’ve been under all this time, you know? I’m a real person. I have a family. I didn’t mean to let everyone down, I just got, you know…tired. I got tired of it all.

Barbara Walters: Look, Mr. Dorvillekay.

Tess: It’s Mr. “double-you kay.”

Andrew W.K.: It’s Mr. Lawrence-Weiss!

Barbara Walters: Larry, I came over hewre after an assurance that there would be a fascinating modern man in attendance, and what I have is just some stwranger on a doowrstep.

Tess: I’m sorry, Andrew. I shouldn’t have invited you. It was terrible timing. [shoves some Band Aids at him while she closes the door] Take some of these, for your face. Goodnight!

Andrew W.K.: Wait!

Barbara Walters: If I call right now, I could get Padma Lakshmi to come over.

Tess: Dial, quick! [shuts door on Andrew W.K.]

Tess is eating dinner alone, in front of the TV, in pajamas. The doorbell rings.

Tess: [to herself] Weird. [opens door to reveal Joseph Gordon-Levitt, slams door immediately] AHHH! Go away! Didn’t you get the email? There’s no fake dinner party tonight!

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: Open the door. I’m serving you with court papers, you fool.

[Tess opens the door]

Tess: Court papers?

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: Yep. You see, I’m the celebrity ambassador to the internet, and we celebrities have a bit of an issue with your so-called dinner parties.

Tess: I thought Justine Bateman was the celebrity ambassador to the internet! And they’re fake, the conversations are fake!

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: We’re sick of you putting words in our mouths. Making fun. Jesting. All of that bullshit. [hands her a paper] You’ll see the signatures here of everyone whom you’ve violated. Yeah. Violated.

Tess: [looking them over] Willem DaFoe? I figured he’d be on board!

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: No one is on board. In fact, the only celebrities who’ve consented to be featured in your dinner parties are…let’s see…Ronald Reagan and Tabitha Soren.

Tess: But…Ronald Reagan died like five years ago.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: Ooh, then that one’s a mistake. But Tabitha Soren’s all yours.

Tess: I don’t understand! It’s satire! Satire’s allowed. I have like six friends in law school, okay, and several more who just passed the bar, and they told me once that as long as I’m making sure that I’m not trying to pass this all off as fact, okay, it doesn’t even have to be funny and it’s still totally fine.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: I, personally, don’t find any of them funny. And as well you may know, I have a pretty decent sense of humor.

Tess: Well, like I said, I’m still not breaking the law.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: Listen very closely: we don’t like what you do. There are thousands of us, millions if you count the fictional characters you’ve had over, and one of you. Just one. And nobody will hear your screams.

Tess: Whoa, whoa! I was just having a laugh! It’s the internet! Stop taking it so seriously.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: You have nothing to gain, and everything to lose. Why don’t you think it through? What are you even trying to accomplish? What, a book deal? I’ve got news for you, lady: it’s not been forthcoming. And it won’t be, so long as celebrities can email publishing companies to lobby against your stupidity.

Tess: I never even wanted a book deal out of these! I just wanted to write one for The Awl or something. Jesus, Joe, get real!

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: Oh, I’m tremendously real. [turns to leave, then turns back] So you’re saying you didn’t even make dinner. Just called the whole party off.

Tess: That’s right! Hence the pajamas. Look, you’ve made your point. Just go.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: You don’t even have some chips and salsa or something? I came all this way.

Tess: Yeah, you came to my house to serve me a summons.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: And you’re serving me…nothing.

Tess: Say I were to offer you something. Some burrata. A tostada. Maybe a slice of piping-hot pie.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: Uh huh. Well, if that were the case, your legal problems might…dissipate.

Tess: They would, would they?

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: I could make a few calls. Tweets. Let them know you mean no harm.

[Tess gestures him inside]

Tess: I’ve got a Viktor Benes chocolate coffee ring.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt: Excellent.

Bill Murray: I just thought of something.

Mo’Nique: Oh honey HOLD UP.

Tess: Me?

Mo’Nique: You ain’t skinny, girl, but I don’t trust you anyway.

Tess: Why?

Mo’Nique: You talk a lot of game, bitch, but I know for a fact you didn’t get yourself out to see Precious.

Tess: Why does this keep coming up? I only saw one movie in the theaters in 2009. I don’t feel particularly good about that, especially when I keep having performers over for dinner, but what can I do? My income was like zero until a few months ago and —

Bill Murray: So nobody wants to hear my thoughts. Somehow this is unsurprising.

Mo’Nique: Honey, you seem so depressed. It’s that monotone. And the eyelids. [to Tess] And isn’t he boney? [to Bill Murray] Sugar, you boney. Eat something.

Bill Murray: I’m not boney and I’m not depressed. I keep my enthusiasm on a tight leash so that one day I can surprise the world with its sheer force.

Tess: Oh.

Mo’Nique: Mmm.

Bill Murray: Anyway, now that I have your attention: I was staring into the fireplace against that wall and I realized something. Where do you put the fire? You put it in the firePLACE. Fire. Place. Fireplace.

Tess: More Suntory?

Bill Murray & Mo’Nique: Yes please!

[doorbell rings. Tess opens it to reveal Lindsay Lohan]

Tess: Ooh, Lindsay. Not a good time. Mo’Nique is here.

Lindsay Lohan: Please, please, let me in! I just had the worst fight with Samantha and my house is filled with needles and garbage and it smells like fake tanner and I just drank three Monster energy drinks and chased them with Lithium! [beat] PLEASE!

Mo’Nique: I smell a skinny bitch! Tess, you said no skinny bitches!

Tess: Oh jeez, Lindsay, like I said…she really has this thing about skinny bitches — skinny people — look, can’t you just call Jared Leto or something?

Lindsay Lohan: He screens me!

Bill Murray: [creeps in from the dining room] Who have we here.

Lindsay Lohan: Oh my God, it’s James Belushi!

Bill Murray: That’s right.

Mo’Nique: [to Tess] That girl looks bad. What’s she on, Monsters and Lithium?

Tess: Something like that.

Lindsay Lohan: My agent has been calling you! I’m dying to get on “According to Jim!”

Bill Murray: Yes, I think I can work something out.

Mo’Nique: Sugarpie, “According to Jim” is off the —

Bill Murray: SHHHH! You go back to the table. Go back. Go back.

[Mo’Nique harrumphs away]

Lindsay Lohan: Hey, James, do you mind driving me home?

Bill Murray: Not a problem. You live —?

Lindsay Lohan: Oh, just here or there!

Tess: You live “here or there”?

Lindsay Lohan: Just, you know, wherever I can hide out and drink gin out of a Fresca bottle!

Tess: Oh.

Bill Murray: How about I spring for one of those guest houses at the Chateau Marmont. I won’t stay there, I’ll just take you out for karaoke and a bittersweet time and then drop you off with an ambiguously platonic kiss on the top of your head.

Lindsay Lohan: That reminds me of a scene from —

Bill Murray: No. No it doesn’t. Because I just made that up, so whatever you were going to say, that’s impossible. Better hit the road. [to Tess] Sayonara.

Tess: Sayonara. [heads back to table, where Mo’Nique is picking at her pie] I guess it’s just you and me, Mo’Nique.

Mo’Nique: Tess, God damn it, he can handle his shit, can’t he?

Tess: Pretty much.

Mo’Nique: And that shit about the fireplace? That’s some smart shit.

Tess: I both agree and disagree with that. More Suntory?

Mo’Nique: Always.

[doorbell sounds]

Tess: [opens door] Hello? Hello? [closes door]

[doorbell sounds again, immediately]

Tess: Weird. [opens door] Hello?

David Bowie’s voice: Hello! It’s David!

Tess: Are you on the roof?

David Bowie’s voice: Girl, I’m standing right before you.

Tess: Ha-ha.

[beat]

David Bowie’s voice: No, really. It’s a mystical illusion.

Tess: Well, would you like to come inside?

David Bowie’s voice: If you turn around, you’ll see I’m already inside.

[Tess turns around as David Bowie leaps down from the ceiling]

Tess: Ahhh!

Chef Gordon Ramsay: Hey, madam, quit your shrieking, yeah?

David Bowie: Ramsay, ease up. She’s just…a little…girl.

Chef Gordon Ramsay: She’s a mule. Ah, bugger off, the two of you!

Dr. Phil McGraw: Hey now! Why’re we all yellin in the hallway?

Tess: I’d like to get us all to sit down, if I could. [to David] That was a cool trick, but Chef Ramsay is easily set off by things. By everything. It’s best to try to keep things…calm. Controlled.

Dr. Phil McGraw: Now, if you listen to what she’s saying, and correct me if I’m wrong: she wants control of the situation.

Chef Gordon Ramsay: Psychobabble! His views are f****** dismal! Every guest on his show — some donkey!

Dr. Phil McGraw: Mister, I sense a hostility from you that I do not abide by, I’m serious. Check out Robin over there at the table. Are you lonesome, sweetheart?

[Robin waves from the dining room]

David Bowie: I apologize if my little feat of magic was too dazzling for our easily aroused compatriots. Let’s drink to heathenism, sequins, and the cosmic orgy of the universe! [produces steaming goblets]

Chef Gordon Ramsay: [sips from goblet] Oh dear oh dear oh dear. [spits into a cocktail napkin] This steaming glahss of over-hyped stodge tastes like a tempura-fried skunk tail from the waste-bin.

Dr. Phil McGraw: [to David Bowie] Hey pal, it’s my impression that you’re just throwin’ that stuff down your throat! Now I’m givin’ you my professional opinion that that sorta drinking is problematic. Everybody likes a cocktail in a goblet at a BBQ now n’ then, or a scorpion bowl at a season three wrap party, or a pony keg at a cousin’s wedding, but the way you’re goin’ at it it’s like you’re in the frat house and all the sigma chis are fist-poundin’ and hell-raisin’, and the girls in the back are cheerin’, goin’, “Hey Slugger, slug it on down,” and so you’re doin’ it and they’re throwin’ panties — the girls, just the girls are throwin’ ‘em — sorry Robin but they are — and then SMACK! You’re out, and then you come to and you look around and you’re in the hospital and you know why?

Chef Gordon Ramsay: [pinching the bridge of his nose] Why’s that, then?

Dr. Phil McGraw: Because you poisoned your own liver, dummy.

David Bowie: Poison? My own liver? Doctor, I’ve never heard of that before in my life.

Dr. Phil McGraw: Sure thing, buddy, I’m a medical doctor and I’m tellin’ you I see it every single day.

Robin: [from the dining room] It’s true! Can I say something?

Chef Gordon Ramsay: Hey listen, you two. You! [to David Bowie] No one’s going to buy those stinking goblet drinks unless you [raises a finger] use fresh, yeah, local ingredients; [raises another finger] clean up this slop, yeah, fingerprints on the glahsses, disgusting; and three: seasoning. And you! [long beat; then, to Phil McGraw] Rubbish.

Dr. Phil McGraw: Oh, he says it’s rubbish! Well, there, mister, I’m not going to waste my time helping you. You can go back to your poisoned liver and your nasty attitude.

David Bowie: Both of you, beware. I have been generous up until now. But I can be cruel.

Tess: Generous? What have you done that’s generous?

David Bowie: Everything! Everything that you wanted I have done.

Dr. Phil McGraw: Is he goin’ off in a Spaceman direction? Man, I know a guy who dropped acid to that album all the time. Not me. A friend of a friend.

David Bowie: [circling them] You asked that I come to dinner, and I came to dinner. I have re-ordered time, I have turned the world upside-down and I have done it all for you! I have exhausted myself for this dinner!

Tess: We haven’t even sat down to it though. And you were super-late. And believe it or not, those two were getting along fine until you showed up.

Dr. Phil McGraw: I just don’t like the disrespect I get from Chef Ramsay. The attitude.

Chef Gordon Ramsay: All right. Yeah. Listen: how would you like to be spoken to, then.

Dr. Phil McGraw: Just drop the insults, take a deep breath, and take a darn hard look into your soul before you start callin’ people a mule! It’s simple! Just don’t do it!

Chef Gordon Ramsay: Aw, f*** me. F*** me!

Tess: Gordon, Gordon seriously. That’s just the way he is.

Robin: [from the dining room] I’ve been trying to say, he has your cookbook!

Dr. Phil McGraw: Robin, hey, lady, I didn’t ask your opinion! Shut it for a second!

Robin: Chef Ramsay, he’s your biggest fan! I heard him say that if he could do for people what you do for the restaurants in “Kitchen Nightmares” —

Dr. Phil McGraw: [turns red] Robin!

Robin: He said you were a real man, Chef Ramsay.

David Bowie: A real man. How dreary. How dull.

Chef Gordon Ramsay: You said that, did you.

Dr. Phil McGraw: Maybe.

Chef Gordon Ramsay: What, because I yell.

Dr. Phil McGraw: I think it gets through to some of ‘em, the tough love, sure.

David Bowie: It’s just generally obnoxious.

Tess: I agree, actually.

David Bowie: Then why did you invite him to your dinner party, Tess?

Tess: Oh, he makes really great pappardelle.

David Bowie: Then I propose we eat it, and then I’ll paint our bodies with glitter and we can roll about on the shag carpet, dreaming of Mars.

[Tess and David Bowie depart to sit in the dining room. Dr. Phil McGraw sets up two chairs in the entryway, facing each other, props a little flip cam up on a coffee table, focusing it on the chairs, and presses “record.”]

Dr. Phil McGraw: [sits down; then, to Chef Gordon Ramsay] Have a seat over here, old buddy, and tell me all about where that anger comes from.

David Lynch: To me, as I’ve said, a meatloaf is like a submarine.

Tess: …right…

David Lynch: Whereas you think of a boat as something that floats, it can just as easily be something that does the opposite.

Tess: …and so, with meatloaf…?

David Lynch: Exactly. Meat is one thing. A loaf is another thing. But they can both be the same thing, if you try.

Tess: Do you like it? It looks like you haven’t tried it yet. It’s good meatloaf!

[silence]

Tess: Okay…so, Willem? Are you catching this? The submarine analogy?

Willem Dafoe: Yes, and you know, I get that. Completely. A few months ago I got together with my theater troupe, and do you know what we did?

David Lynch: Ahhh!

Willem Dafoe: What is it?

David Lynch: I’m sorry. Something about you.

Willem Dafoe: Something about me what? What did I do?

David Lynch: I’m not sure.

[From the other room, a midget wearing a tuxedo enters. The hallway he walks down seems very long, suddenly. From a hidden speaker somewhere, a haunting melody plays. The midget is carrying a sterling dish with candies inside.]

Midget: [holds dish up to David Lynch, who takes a candy]

David Lynch: [to midget] Thank you, Miguel. [to Willem Dafoe] I had a spell. I’m sorry. Go on.

[Midget exits]

Willem Dafoe: Anyway, like I was saying, our troupe was putting together an experimental riff on That Worthless Fellow Platonov. Incredible. It inspires me daily, the process. At one point, I beat a guinea pig to death onstage. The matinee crowd? We have to have a stretcher around to carry them away if they faint, or die.

Tess: Surely that isn’t in the original? The Chekov version?

Willem Dafoe: Of course not. The original is as dry as a piece of Swedish flatbread dipped in sawdust, cured in chalk, and set out to bake in the Arizona sunshine at midday in August.

David Lynch: Ahhh! Miguel!

Tess: David, is something wrong?

David Lynch: [points at Willem Dafoe] His face! It’s terrifying. And I also love it. But mostly, it’s terrifying.

Tess: David, did you recently see Antichrist?

David Lynch: [stares at plate of meatloaf]

Tess: Oh. I see. I asked you not to watch that before dinner, didn’t I? David, didn’t I?

David Lynch: …Miguel?

Tess: David. David. Didn’t I say that would be a bad idea? Because of…the scene? And…the meatloaf?

Willem Dafoe: [reconsiders his meatloaf] Hey, David, can I get one of those candies?

Tess: Well, great. Thanks, David. Thank you. You know, I warned you. And now you’ve ruined dinner for yourself —

David Lynch: Ruining dinner is like submerging yourself in the bathtub —

Tess: — and for Willem —

David Lynch: I’m sorry, but really, you have to understand, Antichrist — it seemed it would be right up my alley, and —

Tess: But the mutilation scene! And the meatloaf! I mean, come on!

Willem Dafoe: [in the direction of the kitchen] Hey, buddy? What, uh, hey, Miguel?

[The midget re-enters with the candy dish]

David Lynch: You can come out, Kyle.

[The midget’s face blurs. Willem Dafoe lets out a cry. There is a puff of smoke, and six seconds of a Roy Oribson song. When the smoke clears, the midget has been replaced by Kyle Maclachlan]

Kyle Maclachlan: I thought I’d come by for dessert. I heard the pie here is phenomenal. I’m going to tell you a secret —

David Lynch: — every day, give yourself a present. Two cups of hot, good, black coffee. [he and Kyle laugh]

Tess: [to Willem] Is that from Twin Peaks?

Willem Dafoe: Oh, in my theater troupe, we did this great riff on Twin Peaks where —

Tess: Ooh, actually, you know, it’s getting late.

Willem Dafoe: …I understand. [he exits]

Tess: Actually, can you guys go now? Because when it’s just the two of you, I worry things are going to go all Fire Walk With Me.

[David Lynch and Kyle Maclachlan exit to eery music, which plays until their cars dematerialize at the stop sign down the road]

Larry David: You know, this place was impossible to find.

Tess: I know, it’s so far from Brentwood. I’m so sorry. Did you map it before you left?

Larry David: Well, actually, I think that’s kind of irrelevant.

Tess: Excuse me?

Larry David: I mean, I know the city pretty well, so I think that if a person lives far enough off the beaten track, it’s kind of up to that person to, you know, point out how to get there.

Tess: Oh, so…to go out of their way.

Larry David: Well they already live out of the way. Out of my way. Out of everybody’s way, though, let’s be honest.

Tess: Oh, because Brentwood is really central? And everyone loves Brentwood? Well you know what? I hate Brentwood.

Larry David: Oh, you do.

Tess: Yes, I do. One time I had to walk five blocks on Barrington just to find a crosswalk.

Larry David: Impossible!

Tess: No, it was possible! It was north of Sunset! I can tell you what day it was!

Larry David: I don’t care how far you walked! It wasn’t half as far as how far I just drove to get here! Plus you probably just parked badly!

[silence]

Larry David [cont]: Look, I’m sorry. Hey, I’m really looking forward to meeting Bill Clinton! I didn’t know you two were friends.

Tess: Oh jeez, Larry. You know, he actually can’t make it.

Larry David: Can’t make it! Wait a second, was he ever supposed to come? Be honest!

Tess: Yes, yes, he was. He just, he had this thing he had to do with Hillary, and…

Larry David: I can’t believe this! You tricked me into driving sixteen miles or something ridiculous like that on Sunset boulevard! Part of that was in rush hour, and I do it, but I do it because you said Bill Clinton was going to be here — now I’m thinking you knew! You knew that was the one person who, who —

Tess: Now hold on just a minute! I was looking forward to having him over just as much as you were excited to meet him! He’s an old friend and he hasn’t been over to dinner in a long time!

Larry David: Oh, sure!

Tess: And anyway, I thought you were going to bring Cheryl.

Former President Bill Clinton: Evening, Larry.

Larry David: What? He’s here? Why did you say he wasn’t coming? What’s going on here?

Tess: It was supposed to be a joke.

Former President Bill Clinton: I heard you had a great sense of humor.

Larry David: What! That isn’t a joke. A joke is, a joke is, when there’s a fire drill, except you’re trying on pants, and then when you —

Former President Bill Clinton: Hey, hold up, don’t ruin it for me.

Tess: Well, I apologize. But the whole thing started on the wrong vibe when you showed up here with that attitude.

Larry David: I’ve heard that before.

Former President Bill Clinton: Let’s get to it. Dinner. [To Larry, aside] While you two were in here, I covered everything she made with barbeque sauce.

Tess: Chris, thanks so much for coming over. I know last time we all had dinner things got a little…awkward.

Christopher Walken: AWKWARD! Sure.

Tess: It was so great of you to bring — what is this, a farfel?  I haven’t asked Natalie back.

Christopher Walken: What you’re asking, about, the dish that I…brought? That’s cat’s SAND!

Tess: You brought cat litter to the potluck?

[Tyler Perry arrives holding a giant casserole pan.]

Tyler Perry: Well hello! I’m Tyler Perry, and I am so thrilled to present this casserole.

Christopher Walken: Mr. Perry, I can’t believe, you put in the EFFORT, you actually made…a CASSEROLE? Sure, one of those — in a dish.

Tess: Chris brought us some cat litter. I’m still not sure why.

Christopher Walken: Hey, Tyler, wowwww, of course, a real dish, you brought it!

Tyler Perry: Nobody’s talking about the serving platter.

Tess: It’s a very nice one. Is it, what, porcelain…?

Tyler Perry: The color of it. The color, particularly.

Christopher Walken: Aooo. It’s PURPLE, the color of it, why not?

Tess [to Christopher Walken]: Don’t indulge him. Once he gets started on The Color Purple, it’s all over. [to Tyler Perry]: How’s Oprah? Did you send her my invitation? Is she coming? To the potluck?

Tyler Perry: Nah, O’s pretty busy, but she did want me to say that, you know, she wants you to see Precious.

Tess: Of course I’m seeing Precious, Tyler. That shit looks really fucked up. It’s like a Lifetime movie raised to the power of a hundred Lifetime movies, and it’s playing on cable.

Tyler Perry: It’s playing in theaters. Not on cable.

Tess: Obviously, but I meant that, you know, there can be swearing. Whereas on Lifetime, you can’t…swear. Or, you know, they wouldn’t let anybody call that baby “Little Mongo.”

Christopher Walken: My good, lord, that’s horrible? A baby, they name it Mongo, well why — a real name’s better, THOMAS, or Christopher, sure, Walken…

Tess: So Tyler, what’s in the purple casserole dish?

Tyler Perry: Just some of Madea’s Secret Recipe.

Tess: But you, I mean, you’re Madea.

Tyler Perry: No, I’m Tyler Perry.

Tess: But you play Madea. And you wrote all the Madeas. And produced. And directed. I mean, if Madea had a recipe, it’d actually be your recipe.

Christopher Walken: MADEA! She was made? …from your mind.

Tyler Perry [coldly]: Next you’ll be saying you read my diary.

Tess: …Because you wrote Diary of a Mad Black Woman.

Tyler Perry: Yes.

Tess: But you’re not a mad black woman.

Christopher Walken: Whoa!

Tyler Perry: Exactly.

Tess: …except you are. Kind of.

[Tyler Perry sits his casserole down on an end table and exits. Christopher Walken dramatically removes its lid, and shrieks.]

Tess: [pushes Sadie’s head off her lap, where she is begging for scraps under the table] Sorry, this is so embarrassing.

Cesar Millan: This dog, she needs to be rehabilitated.

Tess: Rehabilitated?

Cesar Millan: And you, her owner, you need to be train.

Tess: You want to train me? You guys?

Dov Charney: [masturbates]

Cate Blanchett: I’ve really got to go.

Dov Charney: [looms over Cate Blanchett while masturbating]

Cate Blanchett: Frankly, I’m quite upset with you, Tess. I’m going to stop taking your calls. You invited me to a dinner party, but it seems to me I’ve walked in on some sort of circus act. [shoves Dov away] And why is he in a gold leotard?

Tess: Dov, I asked you to try to tone down the outfits.

Dov Charney: [motions at his legwarmers]

Cesar Millan: He is only trying to assert dominance. If you want to be a leader of your pack…

Tess: [near tears] I just don’t want him to ruin my friendship with Cate! He’s really offending her! I just don’t want him to ruin my dinner party! Dov, seriously!

[Cesar Millan approaches Dov Charney, touches him on the nose and makes a shushing noise at him. Dov Charney crouches and wimpers in his chair, melting down to a sitting position. He resumes eating his dinner. Cesar Millan offers a hand to Cate Blanchett, to shake]

Cate Blanchett: I’m…unsure of how you did that. Or what you did, even.

Cesar Millan: I did not hit him, I only touched him.

Christopher Walken: Have you ever thought. About? Adoption!

Tess Lynch: Thought about it how?

Christopher Walken: Tremendous! Amounts of homemade babies; they have no places. To go.

Tess Lynch: Homemade babies?

Christopher Walken: If you’ve seen, a baby, they’re — adorable!

Tess Lynch: Are you saying that I should adopt a child? I’m not in the market for that right now.

Natalie Portman: It’s a terrible thing, not adopting a baby when you could adopt one.

Tess Lynch: Then why don’t you adopt a baby?

Natalie Portman: I’m not getting into this with you.

Christopher Walken: Hey. Please, hold on. Natalie. I’ve been noticing — an attitude. Don’t? Disgrace yourself.

Natalie Portman: (gestures at Tess) She knows what this is about.

Tess Lynch: The adoption thing?

Natalie Portman: No. The vegan thing.

Tess Lynch: What vegan thing? What are you talking about? You think I hate vegans?

Christopher Walken: Hostility makes me unbearably uncomforta—

Natalie Portman: Look, it’s basically my cause, and when you demean my cause…

Tess Lynch: Demean?? I respect that it’s a personal choice!

Natalie Portman: Nothing is a personal choice! Every choice has consequences! Your choices affect basically everything! Everyone needs to make smart choices! [her cell phone rings] Can you please hang on?

Christopher Walken: Rude, I think, I’ve never seen the like, when a person can put a person in —

Tess Lynch: Chris, I’m sorry about this. You know how she can get.

Natalie Portman: Guys, I’m really sorry, my guru’s on the phone, and I have to run. I want to get the recipe for the wax beans. Next time?

[Tess and Christopher exchange looks as Natalie leaves]

Christopher Walken: Can I please offer you another? Kir? And then if at once we feel a chill…a fire, sure, it’s easy, I’ll light one.

Tess Lynch: Actually, I’d love a kir.

Kanye West: I find myself resenting Taylor Swift. There was a better way to handle that, you know? That’s not what Jackie O. would have done. There’s a certain grace —

Bono: Grace, mate?

Kanye West: I’m not saying I wasn’t wrong!

Bono: Jackie O. watched as her husband was murdered — the President —

Kanye West: Okay fine but the situation is that something unpleasant is happening; sometimes you just say, you know, what’s the best way to handle being a victim?

Aretha Franklin: Kanye, she just stood there!

Bono: I literally can’t imagine a better way to have handled it.

Kanye West [pointedly, to Bono]: For some reason I guess I just thought you’d understand.

Bono: And what is that supposed to mean?

Kanye West: Oh, nothing.

Bono: No, no, really. Please. Tell me. I’m a goddamn humanitarian.

Kanye West: I read the blogs, Bono, but you obviously don’t.

Aretha Franklin [tearfully]: Stop, stop, would you both just stop!!