The One With the Ick Factor
Originally written by Alexa Junge.
Transcribed by Mikael Hedberg [mhe0422@oden.skelleftea.se] or [90218582482bb@bibl.skelleftea.se].
[Scene: Central Perk. Everyone is there.]
MONICA: Tell him.
RACHEL: No.
PHOEBE: Tell him, tell him.
MONICA: Just...please tell him.
RACHEL: Shut up!
CHANDLER: Tell me what?
MONICA: Look at you, you won't even look at him.
CHANDLER: [sarcastically] Oh, come on tell me. I could use another reason why women wonīt look at me.
RACHEL: All right, all right, all right. Last night, I had a dream that, uh, you and I, were...
PHOEBE: Doing it on this table. [points at the table]
CHANDLER: Wow!
JOEY: Exellent dream score.
ROSS: Why, why, why would you dream that?
CHANDLER: More importantly, was I any good?
RACHEL: Well, you were pretty damnedy good.
CHANDLER: Interesting, cause in my dreams, Iīm allways surprisingly inadequate. [Monica pats him on his lap]
RACHEL: Well, last night you seemed to know your way around the table.
ROSS: I love it, when we share.
[Ross goes over to the counter. Chandler follows him.]
CHANDLER: Youīre okay there?
ROSS: I canīt belive you two had sex in her dream.
CHANDLER: Iīm sorry, it was a one-time-thing. I was very drunk and i was somebody elseīs subconscious.
OPENING CREDITS
[Time lapse. Chandler is sitting on the table.]
CHANDLER: Hi Rachel.
RACHEL: Get off.
PHOEBE: [points at Joeyīs pen] Uh, uh, gimme. Can you see me operating a drill press?
JOEY: I donīt know. What are you wearing?
[Chandler, Monica and Phoebe looks at him]
ROSS: Phoebs, why would you want to operate a drill press?
PHOEBE: Just for some short-term-work. You know, until I get back some of my massage clients.
CHANDLER: Pirates again?
PHOEBE: No, nothing like that. I was just...such a dummie. I taught this "massage-yourself-at-home-workshop". And they are.
JOEY: Hey, hey, Chan. She could work for you.
CHANDLER: [sarcasticly] Thanks Joey, thatīs a good idea.
PHOEBE: What... I could, I could do it. What is it?
CHANDLER: Well, my secretary is gonna be out for a couple of weeks. She is having one of her boobs redused. Itīs a whole big boob story.
PHOEBE: I could be a secretary.
CHANDLER: Well, you know Phoebs. I donīt know if itīs your kinda thing, because it involves a lot of being normal. For a large portion of the day.
PHOEBE: I could do that.
[Rossīs beeper goes off]
RACHEL: What are you playing with?
ROSS: Oh, itīs my new beeper.
JOEY: What the hell does a paleontologist need a beeper for?
MONICA: Is it like for dinosaur emergencies. 'Help, come quick, theyīre still extinct.'
ROSS: No, itīs for when Carol goes into labor. She can get me wherever I am. I mean, all she has to do is to dial 55-JIMBO.
CHANDLER: A cool phone number, and a possible name for the kid.
MONICA: All right, Iīll see you guys later. [raises]
RACHEL: Off to see young Ethan?
MONICA: Thank you.
JOEY: How young is young Ethan? Young?
MONICA: Heīs... our age.
CHANDLER: When we were?
MONICA: Okay, heīs a senior in college.
ROSS: College?
JOEY: Whoa!
CHANDLER: And this manchild has no problem with how old you are?
MONICA: No, of course not. Itīs not even an issue. Cause I told him I was 22.
ALL: What?
MONICA: Oh, I canīt pass for 22?
PHOEBE: Well, maybe 25-26.
MONICA: I am 26.
PHOEBE: There you go.
[Scene: Chandlerīs office. He and Phoebe are there when the phone starts ringing.]
>
Transfer interrupted!
