Honeymoon in Vegas Page #2

- This isn't good, Jack.

- Order something else.

I'm talking about us.

- We're just going through a down phase.

- No, it's bigger than that.

I feel like I'm counting on something

that may never happen.

Jack, we have to go to the next step.

Is this, like, an ultimatum?

No, I'm just telling you

that I won't be a girlfriend forever.

There's too much that I want.

I want kids and a family.

Jack, I've got to know

what the deal is with us.

- I'm in love with you.

- And I'm in love with you.

But I need a commitment.

Life's too short.

I want to be married.

Light's green.

Let's get married tomorrow.

Let's just do it... get on a plane,

go to Vegas and do it.

Now.

- You're serious?

- I must be. My legs are paralyzed.

Oh, sweetie!

The die was cast.

If I had just said "city hall,"

the story would end here,

but I didn't, and Betsy and I

took our fateful trip to Vegas.

The man in the limo

was Tommy Korman, the gambler,

and he was about

to enter my life.

Yep. Home, sweet home.

How you doin'?

I was with two fine-looking

women last night.

One was so fine.

She reminded me of Debra Paget.

She made Debra Paget

look like a boy.

What?

Look at all these Elvises here.

It looks like a friggin' zoo.

- It's a freakin' zoo.

- Mr. Korman!

Mr. Korman, Mr. Sandwich,

Buddy Walker. Welcome to Bally's.

I've replaced Tony Carmelo.

I didn't know if you'd heard.

It escaped my attention.

I wondered if I could

have a word with you.

It's all right.

- Yeah. Sure.

- Yeah.

- Tommy, we have a small problem.

- Oh, yeah?

Penthouse A is not available, but...

Oh?

Buddy? I would like Penthouse A,

where I've stayed for 15 years,

made up for me now.

The president of Brazil is in there.

I don't care if Ming the Friggin'

Merciless is in there. Get him out.

OK?

- Will do.

- Good.

Now I shake your hand.

That's great, Buddy.

Welcome to McCarran

Field, Las Vegas, Nevada...

the family fun capital of America.

- Good luck.

- We just got here!

Oh, my God!

Oof! This is some heat.

It's got to be 110, easy.

No, but it's dry.

That's what these schmucks say.

- "150, but it's dry. "

- Yeah.

So hot you friggin' can't see straight.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Would you like chaises?

- What?

- Chaises.

- Chaises?

- Yes, sir.

- What's your name?

- Gary, sir.

Well, "Gary sir," do you understand

that there's no more ozone layer left?

That you could get arrested

for friggin' manslaughter,

lettin' people lay out here?

- You find that funny?

- No, sir.

May I have

your attention...

Here. Remember that, all right?

Thank you, sir.

- Remember Donna and her sunbaths?

- Yeah. Who knew back then?

Yeah. Who knew?

Vegas. Miami. Wherever.

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