[Scene: Monica and Rachel's, Phoebe is watching a Spanish version of The Waltons. At a nearby table sit Monica knitting, Rachel winding a ball of wool, and Chandler supplying them both from a skein which is spread between his hands.] (Phoebe uses the remote to stop the Spanish by turning off the television.) Monica: I can't believe you. You still haven't told that girl she doesn't have a job yet? Chandler: Well, you still haven't taken down the Christmas lights. Monica: Congratulations, I think you've found the world's thinnest argument. Chandler: I'm just trying to find the right moment, you know? Rachel: Oh, well, that shouldn't be so hard, now that you're dating. (Imitating men at their worst) "Sweetheart, you're fired, but how about a quickie before I go to work?" (Joey lets himself in, carrying a large paper shopping bag.) Joey: Hey. Rachel and Chandler: Hey. (There is a loud knocking at the door through which Joey has just entered.) Chandler: You know, once you're inside, you don't have to knock any more. Monica: I'll get it. (She rises, dragging Chandler along by the wool. Rachel has to leap over a chair to follow them. Monica opens the door to find Mr. Heckles standing there.) Monica: Oh. Hi, Mr.Heckles. Mr.Heckles: You're doing it again. Monica: We're not doing anything. We're just sitting around talking, quietly. Mr.Heckles: I can hear you through the ceiling. My cats can't sleep. Rachel: You don't even have cats. Mr.Heckles: I could have cats. Monica: (Closing the door) Goodbye Mr.Heckles. Rachel: We'll try to keep it down. (The wool-bound trio returns to the table. Rachel has to rush ahead to avoid becoming tangled. Joey brings the shopping bag over to Phoebe, and takes out a nice cardigan.) Joey: Phoebe, could you do me a favour? Could you try this on? I just wanna make sure it fits. Phoebe: Ooh, my first birthday present... (delightedly examining the cardigan in her lap) ..oh, this is really... Joey: Oh, no no no. It's for Ursula. I just figured, you know, size-wise. Phoebe: Ohhh... Sure, yeah... (disgustedly dropping the cardigan back into the bag) ..okay, it fits. (The others have been taking all this in.) Rachel: Are you seein' her again tonight? Joey: Yep. Ice Capades. Chandler: Wow, this is serious. I've never known you to pay money for any kind of capade. Joey: I don't know. I like her, you know. She's different. There's uh, somethin' about her. Phoebe: That you like, (snappily confronting Joey over the heads of the knitting circle) we get it. You like her. Great! (The circle freezes in apprehension.) Joey: Hey, Phoebe, I asked you, and you said it was okay. Phoebe: Alright, well, maybe now it's not okay. Joey: Okay... Well maybe now I'm not okay with it not being okay. Phoebe: Okay. (An embarrassed silence... finally broken by) Chandler: Knit, good woman, knit, knit! (Monica frantically bursts into action as Rachel resumes winding, tangling Chandler's wool.) [Scene: Chandler's Office, Chandler & Nina are locked in a passionate embrace. Someone knocks, so they hurriedly separate to stare out of the window. Chandler's boss opens the door.] Chandler: And that's the Chrysler Building right there. Mr. Douglas: Nina. Nina: Mr.Douglas... (flirting defensively) ..cool tie. (She escapes, fortunately so distracting Mr. Douglas, that he misses Chandler's expression of alarm & guilt.) Mr. Douglas: (Shutting the door, then pointing vaguely at Nina's shapely departure) She's still here. Chandler: Yes, yes she is. Didn't I memo you on this? See, after I let her go, err, I got a call from her psychiatrist, Dr. Flanen-nen, Dr. Flanen, Dr. Flan. (Thinking quickly, Chandler desperately tries to remember anything to do with schizophrenia....) Chandler: And err, he informed me that uh, she took the news rather badly, in fact, he uh, mentioned the word frenzy. Mr. Douglas: You're kidding? She seems so... Chandler: Oh, no, no. Nina... (miming fairies twinkling around his head) ..she is whooo wewee-woo whoo whoo! In fact, if you asked her right now, she would have no recollection of being fired at all, none at all. Mr. Douglas: That's unbelievable. Chandler: And yet, believable. So I decided not to fire her again until I can be assured that she will be no threat to herself, or others. Mr. Douglas: I see. I guess you never really know what's goin' on inside a person's head. Chandler: Well, I guess that's why they call it psychology, sir. (Mr. Douglas screws up his eyes, trying to credit what Bing has just said, but turning to follow Nina down the corridor, he realises Bing must be telling the truth, since he would not have any personal interest in the girl, would he?) [Scene: Lamaze class, Ross is again on the floor, cradled in Susan's lap, but now Carol is cradled in his lap, and she has a pretend baby, on her lap. The teacher is showing her class a video, which is about to end.] Soothing male voice: ..a sound Mom and Dad never forget. For this after all, is the miracle of birth. Teacher: Lights please? And that's having a baby. Next week is our final class. (People start getting up. Ross grabs Carol's doll to hold it upside down like a football, slapping it with his other hand.) Ross: Susan, go deep. (Susan just glares back, as Ross's inappropriate joke falls flat. Meanwhile, a bubble is about to burst...) Carol: This is impossible. It's just impossible. Susan: What is, honey? Carol: What that woman... did. I am not doin' that. It's just gonna have to stay in, that's all, everything will be the same, it'll just stay in. Ross: Carol, honey, shhh, shhh, everything's gonna be alright. Carol: (Turning on Ross) OH, WHAT DO YOU KNOW? NO-ONE'S GOING UP TO YOU AND SAYING, "HI, IS THAT YOUR NOSTRIL? MIND IF WE PUSH THIS POT ROAST THROUGH IT?" Susan: Carol, Carol, sweetie. Cleansing breath. (Both women gulp in air. Ross looks at his "football," then manipulates the head & limbs back into place, until it resembles what it represents.) Susan: I know it's frightening, but, big picture. The birth part is just one day, and when it's over, we're all gonna be parents for the rest of our lives. (Ross is staring blankly into space.) Susan: I mean, that's what this is all about, right? Ross? Ross? --

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