Ed's House of Yuks, where the man of the hour is on the phone. "I just would like another chance," he says. "I, I need another chance, Mrs. Shusuno." He listens. I don't think Mrs. Shusuno is particularly convinced. He continues, "Well, that stock I recommended, Virtual Gambling? Is up." Ed makes a sad face as he listens. "I understand. Thank you for your time," he says. "Goodbye." Ed hangs up. The music swoons into a minor key. Ed takes the receiver and furiously beats the tabletop with it before covering his face with his hands. Ed, Ed, Ed. Get a hold of yourself. Go outside, get a little sun. Anyone would be depressed in that apartment. You don't even have a TV. No wonder you're blue. The combination of losing your job, getting a divorce, having a psychotic tattoo, and never getting any natural light would drive anyone to a life of crime. "'Thank you for your time,'" Jodie parrots. "If you were any kind of man, you'd have told her to kiss your ass. But noooooo." Ed looks alarmed. As one would, naturally, when one's tattoo begins mouthing off. "Another woman sticks it to you," Jodie smirks. Ed drops to his knees and puts his ear to the floor. "Isn't that right? Eddie?" Jodie asks. Ed crawls over to the heating vent and listens to the goings-on in the apartment downstairs. It sounds like someone is moving furniture. He bangs on the floor angrily. "Hey, I can hear you down there," he yells. In the apartment beneath him, a young woman peers up at the ceiling. She's putting paper in the bottom of her birdcage. Needless to say, she has no idea what he's talking about. Ed keeps it up with the banging and the yelling and she turns on her TV. The music floats up through the heating duct -- it's Keith Partridge, singing that he's all alone. "You hear that? It's you, Ed. It's all about you," Jodie coos. Ed bangs on the floor even more frantically. The girl downstairs purses her lips and just turns up the TV.
Someone knocks on Ed's door. It's a woman and a youngish man, bearing religious magazines. They'd like to talk to him about the Lord. "Do you hear that? Downstairs?" Ed interrupts their spiel. The woman divines that what she really hears is a young man, confused by.... Ed interrupts again. "She's trying to drive me crazy," he says. The woman gently tells him that she just spoke to his neighbor and she didn't seem to be trying to drive anyone crazy. "Somehow, she knows what I'm thinking," Ed says. The proselytizers exchange looks. "I don't want to feel it, but they know. Like psychics or something. Like an implant thing trying to drive me crazy. They even programmed the TV to criticize me," Ed continues. The woman's eyebrows are practically on the back of her head. Ed steps out into the hallway. "There, you hear it? There!" He says. The young man hands Ed a copy of The Jehovah's Witness Times, and they beat a hasty retreat. Ed looks at the magazine. "Are you a failure?" the headline asks. Jodie laughs. "You see? Even the Jehovah's Witness babe won't waste her time on you. No woman would," she says. Man, who knew Jodie Foster had such a bad attitude? She seems so well-adjusted. Ed buries his head in his hands. He has some serious problems, yes, but he sure is cute. He squeezes his head between his hands, really, really hard. "And you just sit and take it. Take it like a man," Jodie taunts him. Dude, I hate it when my tattoos start talking to me. Especially since I don't have any.