So what? I'm-- Are you judging me right now?
Like what--?
We all have our own circumstances.
(God) So like were you injured or in between jobs?
What was the deal there?
I was getting my PhD. I was on sabbatical.
(God) Girl, I'm God. I know when you're lying.
If you know I'm lying, then why-- why even ask?
You know what I mean?
(God) It's obviously a test, Nora.
Hmm, guess what else is a test.
You being a bitch.
(God) Excuse me?
(God) Okay, that's it. I'm done here.
No, no, give me one more.
(God, echoing) No...
What?
Grandma?
(screaming)
What you got there, a bassoon?
Ah, yes.
An "ook-oo-lele."
Beautiful instrument.
One of my favorite musicians actually is
Hmm.
He's dead, but his music lives on. Beautiful body.
Sorry, can you watch the road, please?
Yeah, yeah, you got it. You got it.
Yeah, I-- I too used to dabble in music
back in high school.
But they should've called it bi-school
'cause I was bi as fuck back then.
Bisexual. Um, vagina and penis.
Sorry, do you mind going a little faster?
Oh.
Oh, cool, real gig, huh?
Real gig, wow.
Well, it's an open mic.
But that's how a lot of people get discovered.
Hmm.
I bet that's how they found Israel Kamakawiwo'ole.
Matter of fact, let me see if I still got his CD.
(car horn blaring)
(tires screech)
Please pull over! You're scaring me and I'd like to get out!
You wanna get out? Why?
Pull over now or I'm calling the cops.
All right, pulling over now.
Oh! You should know you're a bad driver.
Shouldn't we uplift each other?
One star.
Have a good one.
(bicycle bell ringing)
Oh, holy shit! Oh, my God!
I'm gonna get that Bazos money.
Yeah, I'm gonna back up the truck.
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.
I'm lit.
I'm on fire.
What?!
Oh! I'm on fire!
Whoa, Chenise! Get it out!
Get it out!
Yes!
(clears throat)
Hello.
I would love to... cash this... here check.
If I may?
Name on the account, please.
Yes, it's Nora, N-O-R-A, no "H."
(both chuckling)
Lin, L-I-N.
Nora Lin, Forley Road, Elmhurst?
That is correct, yes.
It says here you're dead.
Sorry, what?!
The bank automatically closes accounts
that have been inactive for two years.
No.
No, no. No. I am-- I am alive!
Here's what I can do. (sighs)
If you want to reopen your account,
I just need a form of identification.
Yes. Actually, I can accommodate with that.
(softly) Okay, here we go, that's...
Thank you.
This is expired.
Where does it say that?
No, no.
Because this license is expired,
I'm legally obligated to do this.
Oh. Oh. Oh!
Oh!
Do you have another form of identification?
Do you know your social security number?
Yes! Yes, I know it.
Um, it's 1-8...
hundred, 5-7-9-6-8-5-9.
Okay, that's too many numbers.
Why do I even need a bank account?
Well, for starters, to build up your credit,
apply for a loan, buy a house
and get a mortgage, not to mention
set up a basic investment portfolio
and formulate a retirement plan.
But without proper identification,
I can't verify that a...
Nora Lin actually exists.
Sorry.
(whispering) Hey.
What if you asked me something
that only the real Nora Lin would know?
I literally know nothing about you.
(normal voice) So, I can't cash this check?
Nope.
I... look like a fucking blow-up doll!
Huh?!
You're welcome.
Yeah!
What are you lookin' at?!
Okay,
Three, two...
one!
Uh...
Holy shit.
What-- What the fuck?
What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is up?
I only feel like 20% bad because I warned you
about this multiple times.
What, what even color is this?!
And the texture? Is that a natural wave?
Because I look like a hot fuckin' Cheeto right now.
It's sort of becoming on you.
Oh, yeah? Would you be coming on this?!
Yep. See that?!
Ma'am? Uh, ma'am.
Hey, lady!
Hey, what's going on?
Oh, so sorry. I'm just waiting
for my husband, Mark Fingers.
Wait, Nora?
Nora.
Yeah. Yes!
Oh, my God!
Last time I saw you, you were like
chain-smoking menthols and wearing that little
North Face butt pack thing.
Yeah.
(both laughing)
Um, I'm here to see my cousin,
Edmund Lin.
Hold on, Moneybag Mundie?
You call him Moneybags?
He is up in that penthouse living it up!
He's been living it up in there?
Yes, bad bitches in and out,
in and out, in and out, all the time.
No, he wouldn't-- That's not Edmund.
He's doesn't have-- Women, women going up there?
Women, bad bitches, male bad bitches.
Like gender non-specific bad bitches.
I can't even tell sometimes.
Man, I wonder what he's up to.
Do you remember when we used to play GarageBand 2?
"Rock Band 2," yes!
I was doing "expert,"
and you couldn't even do "medium bass."
(chuckling) Yeah, that was fun.
You're cute now.
Yeah.
Stop. I'm not even cute right now.
I'm not.
I am so fucking ugly right now.
No, I like this.
Yeah?
Yo, I should check out what this dude is doing.
But it was good seeing you.
Yeah, it was so good seeing you.
Yeah, yeah, um, hit me up.
I would love to hit you up.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, on Facebook Messenger.
Just Facebook Messenger?
Uh, yeah, I don't have data on my phone right now.
I'm actually on an iPod Touch.
Yeah.
I'll see you. Catch you.
Sir!
Sir, could you get back here?
(coughs)
(queef ringtone)
W-w-what was that?
It's Tiffany. I'm not answering.
No, no, no, no, no, no. W-w-w-what song is that?
Oh, it's the new Rat Lung.
You don't listen to Rat Lung? He's tight.
That-- that was-- That song's in public?
Oh, it's the number-one song on SoundCloud right now.
Oh, my God!
He said he would never release it.
What are you talking about?
What?
I--
(queefs)
Yo, that
A little pitched up, but it's you.
Yeah, with some reverb and a Fazer.
Yo, you better be collecting royalties on that.
Collecting what?
Are you collecting backend on that frontend?
I have to go!
(creepy music playing)
What's your endgame with my grandma, bitch?
What?
What are you talking about, you psycho?
She's my grandma, too.
Well, why don't you go to the grandma store
and get your own grandma?
My other grandma's dead, so Grandma's
the only grandma I have.
Yeah, my mom's dead so Grandma's not only my mom,
she's my grandma and my grandpa.
Okay, now I'm walking away from this. I'm--
Ah.
Don't-- What is this?
Stop. You're box-stepping?
I'm not movin'...
But there are no good app ideas anymore.
Everything's already been done.
That's not true.
Netflix for Dogs.
Uh, a poop emoji.
But it's like pictures of your own poop,
and you put eyes on it.
What about an app that takes a picture of a place,
and you can find out what-- what used to be there?
I don't know if anyone's done that already,
but that's actually good.
What about like a flesh mold of a vagina,
right, but it's portable?
And we call it a pocket pussy.
Okay, this might take a while, but keep going.
An app that tells you if you're ugly or not.
An app that you could look at your vagina like in a mirror.
What else?
An app that shows you what you would look like
as a decaying corpse, that's tight, that's a good one.
An app that tells you
What?
An app that finds your long-lost friends.
An app that lightly stimulates your butthole.
An app that lightly stimulates your friends'.
An app that beckons squirrels.
An app that-- it's like Tinder but for parakeets.
I need more!
But I have to poop.
You should be pooping ideas!
Daniel, thank you so much for coming.
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. No problem.
I'm just... Oh, my God, I'm overheating.
Okay, all right. Okay, just breathe.
Um, also, by the way, you look great.
You look really good.
Last time, orange hair.
This time, you know, turtleneck.
Glasses, you look good.
I look like fucking human shit right now.
No.
(both chuckling)
That's-- I need gazebos!
45 along this corridor
and then another 65 there.
I got you, I got you.
You can take your shirt-- Yeah!
What?!
(laughing)
You're-- you're so bad.
Stop!
(laughing)
Ooh, okay.
Are you gonna fuck my doorman?
Shut up, Edmund! He's right there!
Yo, Edmund, what's up?
Hi... Daniel.
You got a package.