Nate follows Matt like a tiny precious puppy dog, and asks if he needs any help. Matt says that he's all right; he's trying to get something going on Meet the Press With Juliette Lewis (heh!), but he's not quite there yet. Nate's all, "Yeeaah. I meant with Harriet." They pedeconference as Nate explains this is exactly like what just happened with his ex Paula, and now Paula's dating a cardiologist, and Nate knows that Harriet is making Matt feel a little crazy what with her brushback pitches and chin music and throwing the ball at Matt's head, and that's why he's having trouble writing the last twelve minutes. Oh, Nate. You are cute as a button, if entirely nonsensical. Matt says that he's never needed a special reason to have trouble writing before, so...what's Nate's point with all the baseball metaphors? Nate starts ranting, "This is pure Strindberg. You know, The Father. Scariest play I ever read. The wife drives the husband crazy. Matt, he literally goes mad because he's never able to regain the upper hand!" Matt is just trying to understand how they moved from baseball to August Strindberg. I'm just trying to understand who in the sweet Jesus gay August freaking Strindberg is. Nate says that he's just trying to help, and would like to be Matt's wingman. Matt says he appreciates that, but unfortunately, he's not flying anywhere. Heh. What Nate really wants, actually, is for Matt to be Nate's wingman, and he says so. Matt's all, "Fine, I'm your wingman. Call Paula." Nate says that it's not about him -- what it is about is the Bombshell Babies, who are playing two shows a night this week at the Roxy. This show is so weird. Matt surmises from this infinitesimal bit of information that Nate wants Matt to give Harriet an autographed stiletto containing the phone number of one of the, um, Babies. Nate: "Now we're on the same page!" Matt suggests that Nate get some sleep. Nate goes off to nap in his dressing room, no doubt dreaming dreams of his hero August Strindberg.