Meanwhile, back at the diner (SIGH)...it's ascertained by Ally that Louis doesn't choose to be homeless. So he SAYS. He made bad financial decisions, went bankrupt, blah blah. Oh, but Louis doesn't strike Ally as a "wacko." Because Ally knows from wackos, you see. Louis has suffered from some "manic-depressive problems," he says. Okay...check this out. He says he was once haunted by The Pips. "Doo-doo-doo-doo-DOOOO!" goes the music, and Ally is awakened from the near-stupor she falls into every time the topic turns from her problems. Blah. Blah. Blah. Here comes the Al Green confession. Time-out, though...I have a public service announcement to make: HALLUCINATIONS ARE NOT A SYMPTOM OF MANIC-DEPRESSION. Carry on. Ally says that she almost took Prozac to try to get rid of Al Green, but she eventually "shook him without medication." Oh, she did? When was this? I mean, not like I'm saying that Prozac would have cured a person of HALLUCINATIONS, but I just didn't realize that Ally was over that. Good for her. Maybe she can write a self-help book and get rich. Every other know-nothing in the world is doing it. Ally leans forward, feels up her lower lip, and lays upon Louis her rationalization. The two of them are better off than all the "corporate drones" out there because they have the "capacity" to hallucinate R&B celebrities. There's no music in their lives! But there's music in Louis's life...and Ally's, too! The piano plays as Louis thinks, "This crazy bitch. I want her!" Then he says some crap about Ally being sad because she has no time to "let it live." Okey, dokey. Whatever-the-helly. Ally bangs her head on the table.
I'm not psychic, but I can tell that Down to You is going to suck. Okay, and don't freak out, but I'm gonna go out on a limb, here, and predict that Freddy Prinze, Jr.'s next movie will suck as well. I just have a feeling.