"I'm going to die alone," Chandler bemoans hurling himself into the cushions of the couch at Central Perk. His friends barely register the remark having heard it plenty of times before and with increasing regularity since Chandler's split with Kathy. "Really," he stresses, "I'm going to be one of those guys you read about in the newspapers. You know, where no one finds them for weeks and weeks and when they do their bodies have been eaten by their many, many cats. That's gonna be me, eaten-by-my-cats guy."
"Come on dude," Joey says setting aside the comic book he's been reading. "Cats? If you're gonna get eaten by pets at least make it dogs. Then you're getting eaten like a man."
Monica who sits between him and his roommate nods adamantly in agreement.
"You too?" Chandler accuses her with a pointed look. "Look, does it really matter? I could be eaten by goldfish for all I care. It's the dying alone part that I'm kinda bummed about. "
He's about to elaborate on his untimely and unnoted demise, when he's interrupted by Phoebe who arrives at just that moment heading to the open armchair nearly taking off his head with the guitar she haphazardly totes along.
"What's going on?" She asks plopping down to join her friends.
"Chandler's gonna die alone and be eaten by a bunch of cats," Joey explains. "Like a woman," he adds for good measure raising an eyebrow meaningfully at his roommate.
"Yeah, I could see that." Phoebe agrees earning a glare from Chandler.
Ignoring his scowl, she continues her assent, bobbing her head along, "Yeah, yeah," before suddenly announcing with a start, "Oh wait, no, no. I've got it!"
"You've got what? Rhythm? Music? My gal?" Chandler asks in rapid succession.
"Okay, you watch too many musicals," Phoebe accuses pointing a finger at Chandler before adding, "Probably not helping you on the dating front. No, I have the perfect solution. So you don't die alone."
"Great," Chandler says with enthusiasm. "Hit me."
"Metaphorically," he adds rubbing his arm where she's reached across the space between her seat and the couch to smack him.
"Phoebe's Fabulous Love Tonic," she announces drawing out the vowel sounds seductively. They all look at her skeptically so she continues, "Uh-huh. 100% effective."
"Really," she reiterates picking up on the disbelieving stares of her friends.
"Thanks, but no thanks, Pheebs," Chandler answers
"Oh c'mon Chandler. It will be fun," Phoebe pouts.
"Yeah, no. I don't think that's for me," Chandler says clearly trying to excuse himself without hurting the feelings of his eccentric friend.
"Of course its for you," Phoebe exclaims oblivious to Chandler's discomfort. "You can't buy a date now, but after a few sips of my tonic, you'll be beating them off with a stick."
"Whoa, whoa," Joey says suddenly interested, "That sounds kinky. I want in!"
"You? Are you kidding?" Phoebe laughs, "You've got enough women on your plate as it is Joey. I wouldn't want to see what my tonic would do to you. Chandler on the other hand…"
"Alright, alright," Chandler agrees in embarrassment as Monica pats his back sympathetically, "I'll drink your stupid drink."
"Great!" Phoebe exclaims without the slightest hint of having been insulted. "Let's all meet at Monica and Rachel's tonight. Let's say 7."
"Hold on," Monica interjects offended, "How do you know we don't have plans tonight? We could have hot dates for all you know."
They all stare at her blankly for a moment before Monica grudgingly concedes, "Okay, fine. But make it 7:30 and I'll make some brownies."
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
"I don't know about this Phoebe," Chandler says nervously looking down at the strange concoction steeping on the coffee table in the girl's living room. "Is it supposed to steam so much?
"Is it steaming?" Phoebe asks in alarm, rushing in from the kitchen. "Hmm, that's new," she mutters to herself before taking in Chandler's terrified face and adding unconvincingly, "But I'm sure it's fine."
"Okay," Chandler begins backing slowly out of the living room and towards the front door, "this has been fun but I think I'm gonna pass, Pheebs."
"No, no, no," Phoebe admonishes roughly retrieving her friend and returning him once more to a seat on the couch in front of the now steamless yellow brew. "Trust me on this one. It's totally going to work. Back when I was living on the streets I made it for my friend Toad and…"
"Toad?" Ross interrupts.
"Yeah, we called him Toad on account of his terrible acne," Phoebe explains, "and he sort of had green ashy skin. He was huffing a lot of glue back then," she adds conversationally.
"And this glue-huffing, acne-having, frog man found love did he?" Chandler asks sardonically.
"Yes he did," Phoebe replies emphasizing each word with a sharp jab to Chandler's shoulder. "He was totally irresistible. Everyone at the shelter was all over him for days. Gladys, she used to feed the pigeons in Central Park, by the fountain," Phoebe pauses looking around expectantly. Then continuing when it becomes clear the other five haven't taken the time to notice Gladys before, "anyway, she never gave Toad the time of day before my tonic and now the two share a tent under the viaduct," she finishes triumphantly
"That's so sweet," Joey gushes clearly moved by Phoebe's tale of true love. "C'mon buddy," he encourages taking a seat next to a still reluctant looking Chandler, "What do you have to lose?"
"My stomach lining?" Chandler answers wryly.
"Seriously," Rachel joins in sitting on the other side of the couch and raising the mug to Chandler, "you haven't been with anyone in forever. Give it a try."
"Thanks for that," Chandler says sarcastically, though taking the mug from her hands.
"Besides, I want to see what happens," Rachel admits.
"There it is," Chandler says pointing accusingly at his friend. "And what about the rest of you?" He asks the others who have surrounded the couch now and are looking at him expectantly. "Want to treat me like a guinea pig for your own amusement?"
"Yes, please," Monica answers brightly as Ross nods along in agreement.
"Just drink it, you sissy." Phoebe demands.
"Alright," Chandler acquiesces. "Down the hatch."