"I have a feelin'...I–my wife is sleeping with her gynecologist."

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"Do you think there's a town in Missouri or someplace called Sample? And, as you're driving into the town, there's, like, a sign, and it says, 'You're in Sample'?" Chandler asked, making Joey laugh silently.

"What goes on in that...tiny brain of your?" I shook my head in disbelief.

"Hey." Monica walked into the cafe.

"Hey! Hi. How did it go with Pete? Tell us." We all demanded at the same time.

"You're not going to believe this, okay? So I go over there—" She was about to start when two random guys came up to us.

"Excuse us, I'm sorry." One of the spoke up. "It's a little crowded. Do you mind if we sit..." He motioned to the couch we were sitting on.

"Could you skooch? Move over just a little bit?" The other requested. Joey moved onto the edge of the couch, and I sat down between his legs.

"Thank you very much. Gracias." The first man said gratefully.

"I go over there, and, um, I'm—" Monica began again.

"What–What is wrong with me?" The second man began to cry.

"What's the matter?" The first guy asked his friend.

"Tim...I have a feelin'...I–my wife is sleeping with her gynecologist." He sobbed loudly.

"Oh, no. Really? How do you know?" Tim rubbed his back.

"You know, he's got access." The seven of us shared weird looks while listening in on their conversation. "You know, you just feel and you get, you know?" He explained.

"Like going bowling, and you know you're in someone else's shoes?" Tim asked him.

"That's the one." He nodded his head.

"Alright, so you went to Pete's...then what happened?" Phoebe brought us back.

"Why is this happening to me?" The man cried out. "I don't know. Maybe it's my wound." He shrugged.

"Forget it." Monica announced, and we turned to the two guys next to us.

"Your wound? It's–It's not healed yet?" Tim stuttered out.

"No. It oozes." He informed. "Could you pass the cream? Oh, there's the cream. Thank you very much." He grabbed the cup off of the table.

"God, I'm going to be sick." I let out. Joey pressed his knuckles into my lower back for a soothing massage.

"Tomas, this is going to be hard, but I wanted it to come from me and nobody else." Tim pointed at himself.

"What is it, Tim?" Tomas questioned.

"It's me. I've been sleeping with your wife." Tim confessed to his friend.

"So you're the gynecologist?" Chandler posed to Tim.

"Hey, I'm trying to have a private conversation." Tim looked up at us, making us awkwardly busy ourselves.

"Can I have a napkin, please?" Tomas sobbed, so Rachel reached over to grab a couple. "Please hand a...give me that thing, alright?" He grabbed the entire container. "Oh, that's it, alright. Enough! And you are no longer my friend." He pointed at Tim angrily. "We are finished. Nada! No more! You are a bastard for doing this! Get away from me!" He got up and left, while Tim followed behind him.

"Monica, what were you going to tell us?" Phoebe broke the silence.

"I have no idea." She shook her head.

"Where do you think his oozing wound was?" Chandler questioned.

"Seriously?" I groaned and rested the back of my head against Joey's chest while he just wiped my forehead soothingly. After we settled down with our drinks, we went back to Monica.

"Come on, what was the big news Pete wanted to tell you, Mon?" Rachel could barely contain her excitement.

"Or should we say, Mrs. Monica Becker?" I squealed.

"No, no. Oh, keep your name. Don't take his name." Phoebe begged her.

"He didn't ask me to marry him." She swirled her straw around in her drink.

"Then definitely don't take his name." Phoebe exclaimed.

"He wanted to tell me he's going to compete in some ultimate fighting competition thingy." She replied unsurely.

"Oh, no." I groaned, knowing exactly what she was talking about.

"Pete?" Joey gasped in excitement.

"Why? What is that?" Rachel furrowed her brows.

"I don't know exactly. It's sort of like wrestling. But without costumes." Monica thought out loud.

"Oh." Rachel and Phoebe nodded their heads.

"And it's not fake. It's totally brutal." Joey added.

"Yeah, it's two guys in the ring, and the rules are..." Chandler paused dramatically.

"There are no rules." I rolled my eyes. "I only know this because I'm related to him and dating him." I pointed at Joey and Chandler.

"So you can, like, bite and pull people's hair and stuff?" Monica grimaced.

"Anything except eye–gouging and fish–hooking." Ross replied.

"Fish–hooking?" She questioned. 

"'What is fish—'" Ross got cut off when Joey proceeded to show a demonstration. "Thanks, man. That would have been really hard to describe." Ross pulled Joey's finger out of his mouth. "What is that taste?" He scrunched up his brows in disgust.

"My hands are totally clean. I just gave the duck a bath." Joey scoffed. Later that night, I met up with the rest of the gang and Mon's apartment.

"You will not believe the day I had today. No one was at work. And I couldn't even get in." I had changed into a miniskirt and a sweater.

"Isn't your building closed on Saturdays?" Monica inquired.

"Today's Saturday?" My eyes widened in surprise. "Wait a minute. That means we have reservations." I clapped my hands together and jumped up and down.

"Good for you trying to get more work done." Phoebe smacked my ass.

"Pheebs, hon, you've got to buy me dinner first." I winked at her jokingly. Later the next night, I was sitting at my dining table while Joey cooked us some food.

"Can you imagine just having a little you or little me running around in here?" He mixed in the sauce with the pasta. "Or, you know, a couple of uses?" He glanced back at me.

"That honestly does sound pretty amazing. But maybe we should start off with a plant or something before we move on to an actual human." I suggested.

"Dogs are cute." He shrugged his shoulders.

"A fern would look great right by the window." I nodded my head.

"Why are we talking about this now? We have the rest of our lives to do all that stuff." He leaned down and kissed me in a soft but sweet way. A few nights later, we were in Monica's apartment, getting ready to watch Pete fight in his second match. "What would you think if I decided to do something like this?" Joey asked me.

"Probably kill you before your opponent gets the chance." I answered.

"That's my girl." He wrapped his arm around my shoulders as we waited for the fight to start.

"Hey, the fight's starting." Rachel called out to Ross, Phoebe, and Chandler, who were out in the balcony with the hot dogs and buns.

"Okay, we'll be right in." Ross yelled back. We watched Pete get pummeled within a minute.

"Fight's over." Rachel bit her lip and said to them.

"I don't have a medical degree or anything, but a shoulder shouldn't be bending that way, right?" I buried my face into Joey's shoulder. After a couple more days, Monica informed us on her breakup with Pete, but we continued to watch him get beat up on the televised matches.

"Pete Becker is circling the ring now. Looks like he's just trying to feel him out. Oh! Bruza is charging!" The announcer did a play–by–play.

"Run! Run, you crazy, rich freak!" Chandler yelled at the TV.

"No, I can't watch this." Rachel covered her face with her hands.

"Is this what our country has turned to? Abuse?" I lay my head on Joey's chest.

"Check it out, he's winning. Pete's winning." Joey glanced at Monica, who was standing in the kitchen with her back turned to us.

"Really?" Monica came back to us.

"No–oh–oh." Joey chuckled.

"Uh–oh. Bruza has Becker on that canvas and is going for his favorite area." Pete's opponent hit him in a pretty painful area. Multiple times.

"Oh! Uh! Oh!" Our group exclaimed in unison.

"If that's his favorite area, why is he being so mean to it?" Phoebe winced in pain for Pete.

"This is ironic. Of your last two boyfriends, Richard didn't want to have kids, and from the looks of it, now Pete can't." Ross teased his little sister.

"Oh, God." I felt so bad for the poor guy. He lost his girlfriend and probably his family jewels.