Charlie Harper just had his pants down and a willing girl stripping for sex when his brother Alan calls, whose wife Judith threw him out with ten year-old son Jake. They move into playboy Charlie's beach-house 'a few days, tops', which seems an eternity for the serial seducer. Yet Jake grows on Charlie, as he proves a better babe-magnet then a puppy and a natural at seeing through poker-faces. When Judith announces the break-up is final, she may be lesbian, Charlie extends a long-term invitation to father and son, rather then let Jake undergo the influence of their selfish socialite mother from hell. Written by
Did You Know?
The scene here Alan and Charlie drink, at the sound of a bell, in the bar is called Pavlov's. Russian physiologist Ivan Pavlov used classical conditioning to train a dog, just as Alan and Charlie responded to the bell, by drinking a shot. See more
In the shot where Charlie says "he's thinking about it now," you can briefly see the white and pink dress worn by Blythe Danner
as Evelyn in the original pilot episode rather than the blue outfit being worn by Holland Taylor
in the reshoot. See more
Your mom is my grandma?
Grandma says you're a bitter disappointment.
As with the end of every episode, Chuck Lorre always has a paragraph at the end of the episode. This episode production note says: "CHUCK LORRE PRODUCTIONS, #108 When Dharma was cancelled, my heart was broken. Over the next few years my efforts to mend it by creating a new show led to an even deeper emotional nadir when I noticed I had somehow become the author of a seemingly endless succession of failed pilots and pilot scripts. This was not a big enough string of stinkers to lower AOL-Time Warner a stock price (that had already been done by people more incompetant than myself), but my ill-advised attempts at heart-mending were sufficient enough to cause people to not look up from their cobb salads when I ambled into the WB commissary (in Hollywood even has beens amble). But I was indominatable. I kept writing...and failing...and ambling. And then, about a year ago, my good friend and favorite cross-to-bear, Lee Aronsohn, told me he needed to write something fairly quickly in order to keep the Writer's Guild health insurance. Everyone -- friends, agents, execs -- told me not to get involved. They assured me that I was too big, too successful, for such a partnership. You see where this is going. Lee and I wrote "Two and a Half Men". Which brings me to the glaringly obvious spiritual lesson to all this. How do you mend a broken heart? The BeeGees never figured it out, but I did. You help a friend keep that health insurance from lapsing." See more