Hot in Cleveland

Ice. I need ice.

I realize it's happy hour somewhere,

but isn't it a bit early even for you?

This happens to be an emergency.

I pulled a muscle fastening my bra.

What's goin' on?

Victoria's having a senior moment.

Oh, I have those all the time.

I can be walking along happy as a clam,

and suddenly I get this overwhelming urge

to hit some young person with a stick.

Hey, guys, look at this!

Another sign I'm meant to be in Cleveland.

The rock and roll hall of fame is having a huge party.

All these rock stars are donating their guitars,

- and Hailey Nash is one of them. - Oh, lord, Hailey Nash?

All those dreadful female empowerment songs?

Her music takes me back to a time when music sucked.

Well, I love Hailey's songs.

It reminds me of prom night.

They played Hailey Nash at your prom?

No, in my room.

Nobody asked me to the prom.

Course, that was during my corrective shoe years.

Was that before or after your headgear years?

There was some overlap.

But Hailey got me through it.

Oh! Tonight, I am going to do

two things from my book.

I'm gonna crash a party and meet my idol.

And I am coming with you.

What? Why? Weren't we just mocking her? I'm confused.

That bastard Johnny revere is gonna be there.

You know Johnny revere?

Every inch of him.

One night, he pulled me from the audience

to dance on stage

and gave me a backstage pass to the best six months of my life.

So why is he a bastard?

Because halfway through the tour,

he left me stranded on a corner in Winslow, Arizona.

Wait, isn't that an eagles song?

Never tell don Henley anything in confidence

when you're doing shots.

Why did you never tell us?

Because it was just too humiliating.

Oh, is he the one who gave you the--

no, no, no, that was Warren Beatty.

Anyway, now that I'm famous and Johnny is a museum piece,

it is going to be such a pleasure

to finally be able to throw a drink right in his face.

Ooh, that sounds very satisfying.

I've never thrown a drink at a man.

I mean, I've slapped a couple of faces,

egged a few cars,

set the odd house on fire.

But a drink in the face?

That's gonna be fun.

I don't see Johnny anywhere.

Just a sea of '70s hair...

And '90s hairpieces.

Some of these rockers look remarkably well-preserved.

Forget Botox. I'm going straight to heroin.

I can't believe that after all these years,

I am finally going to throw a drink in Johnny's face.

- What can I get you ladies? - Uh, scotch...

With enough rocks to leave bruises.

Oh, my gosh.

I just motor-boated Hailey Nash's breasts.

Go on.

No, it was an insane accident.

I--I was turning a corner, and I tripped,

and I fell face-first into her cleavage,

and then my earring got caught,

and I was wrestling free.

What did you say to her?

"Soft."

What?

Well, I was thinking "sorry,"

but I was also thinking "soft," and the wrong one came out.

Any of you over-age groupies seen Willie Nelson?

Elka, what are you doing here?

Well, whenever Willie's in town, I always bake him brownies.

I knew it.

Wait. These are just brownies.

Of course they are.

What are you smoking?

- Young man. - Yes?

Well,

you're a lot to take in, aren't you?

Oh, uh, have you seen the redheaded stranger anywhere?

Come on, shawty, let's check in the V.I.P. section.

Oh, will jay-z be there?

There are a lot of layers to that little onion.

Oh, there's Johnny.

Oh, my God, he spotted me.

He's coming over.

Okay, this is it.

- Um, where's my ammunition? - Here.

Right, keep your elbow low,

follow through with your swing.

Remember, this is for every woman

who ever got dumped by a heartless bastard.

- Victoria! - Johnny.

Wow! You look frickin' amazing.

Oh, why, thank you.

Seriously, you look even sexier in person than you did on your show.

You watched edge of tomorrow?

Sure.

I was always bragging to the roadies

how I used to drill you like the Gulf of Mexico.

You still don't follow the news, do you?

Excuse me. Mr. revere, they need you in the press room.

The price of fame.

I know it well.

You know, it's too bad you're with your friends,

or you could come by the hotel later.

Oh, they're not my friends.

St. Regent, top floor.

Well, that was the most disgusting thing I've ever seen,

and I used to wax Roseanne.

Well, I couldn't help it.

Watchin' that bad-boy swagger sent chills down my spine

I haven't felt in years.

He didn't even apologize!

I know. How hot was that?

Still here, huh?

You know, with all these pretty young girls around,

you last-call connies don't stand a chance.

It may interest you to know

that tonight Johnny revere and I

are going to have the kind of smoking hot sex

that children only read about in story books.

Come on, he's callous and misogynous,

and I don't even think he showered today.

That's okay, I'll just lick him clean.

Victoria! This is a mistake!

Don't be a holla back girl.

Am I using that right? 'Cause it felt right.

Oh, let it go, Mel. There's no girlfriend block for bad-boy sex.

You're right. Its power is too strong.

That guilty thrill you get just being with him.

That desperate desire you have to change him.

And that delicious little tickle

that comes from knowing you never could.

What? You think there weren't bad boys in Poland in the '30s?

You know, before I met Johnny, I didn't know the meaning of depravity

or hotel blacklisting.

There was this one time on a credenza.

Oh, my God. I mean, no surface was safe.

Oh, we did it on coffee tables, club chairs,

and this one really memorable Thanksgiving,

in a bathtub full of sweet potatoes and gravy.

Okay, before we get to what you did with the turkey legs, think.

If you sleep with him, he'll just dump you again,

and then he'll be the one that got away again.

Who cares? He's not the man that got away.

He's the sex that got away, and tonight I am getting it back.

Well, just make sure none of those old feelings

come back with it.

Oh, please, I am not that nubile little ninny

who used to prance around naked on his balcony--

oh, my God! He hasn't seen me naked since I was in my 20s!

Ooh, forget diamonds.

After 40, covers are a girl's best friend.

Word to the wise. A smart jockey

always sits straight up on the horse.

- See, you're the jockey, and he's... - Yes, yes, we understand.

It's so your boobs don't flop to the side

and get lost in your back fat.

Are you as turned on as I am?

God, this is a disaster.

I'm not even dressed for sex.

Trade underwear with me.

Why do you automatically ask joy and not me?

Because cotton is the fabric of your life, darling, not mine.

- Cotton breathes. - All right.

I am not swapping knickers with you.

Okay, okay, but I am definitely gonna need an emergency wax.

Well, your eyebrows look fine.

It's not my eyebrows I'm worried about.

Do you think I carry a portable waxing kit?

Joy, please.

Okay, fine.

I'll MacGyver it.

Oh, my God, are you guys crazy?

Do you know how much that's gonna hurt?

But it's worth it, because tonight I'm gonna party like it's 1979.

You want a ride home? Willie loaned me the limo.

Oh, thanks, but no, no. I have to stick around.

I have to find Hailey Nash and apologize to her for sticking my face in her boobs.

Hey, I don't suppose Willie knows her.

By now, Willie doesn't know his own name.

- Hey, you. - Hey, sexy, come on in.

You okay?

No, I'm fine.

You know, there were a lot of hot women at that party tonight,

but none of them could hold a candle to you.

That's what you think.

Sure I can't get you something stronger?