Call Me Fitz (2010–2013): Season 1, Episode 8 - Married to the Mom - full transcript

Richard Fitzpatrick,

lone wolf,

always on the hunt,
ready for action,

free to go where he wants,
when he wants.

- What the hell, man?
- You won't need that anymore.

- Where I go, my porn goes.
- Hello, gentlemen.

Fuck!

But, like in the wild,

there's always some predator

ready to trap us.

You're late, darling.



I'm allergic.

Right here.

Of course, there'll be rules.

You'll make our bed,
pick up after yourself.

- I don't like mess.
- And I don't like total bitchiness.

He bites.

Let her try to tame me.
I'm still a wolf,

just one in sheep's clothing.

And up here,

up here is the bedroom.

Come on.

So, technically, still a wolf,

able to bust my way out of any trap,

free to go where I want,



when I want.

Fuck.

Rise and shine, hubby.

I made you breakfast.

So, should we talk about last night,
you sleeping on the couch.

Well, we've been married for two days
and have yet to consummate.

Yeah, I'm not much of a soup guy.

Don't get cute with me, mister.

Sex is...

just not something
you should ever rush into.

Besides, you were a vegetable
the whole time we were dating.

Think of this
as the getting-to-know-you interlude.

So, tonight then?

But there's still so much
to catch up on, like...

- what's your favourite food or...
- Lychee, Ringo, Aquarius, doggy style,

yes to toys, no to animals,

ice cream
and a sense of humour. So...

now you know me
and my lifestyle, so...

- let's do this thing.
- That's a good start.

But still, so much to learn.

And I can't wait.
We'll cuddle and do facials.

You can tell me about your childhood.
But I'm late for work. I got to go.

And so it begins.

Mr. Fitz, I've got
some more junk for you to sign.

I told you last time, sir,
no more mouth-to-mouth practice.

What the hell?

Can't a man take a nap
in his own office without being stabbed?

I thought you were dead.

- What do you want?
- I need you to sign these.

Day in, day out,

the same goddamn thing.

Sign this, sign that.

I'm an old fucking man.
I'm exhausted.

You should take some time off.

And do what?

I don't know.

I have been reading
a lot of self-help books lately.

Self-help books are for quitters.

Sure...

but they all ask
the very important question:

"If you died tomorrow,

what would be your biggest regret?"

Probably that I just fucking died.

Maybe you should make a list,

all the things that you wanted to do
before you, you know...

you know...

I could even help you
with the tricky ones.

Don't kid yourself.

They're all gonna be fucking tricky.

Goddammit!

How come when I online search

for how to write
an affidavit rendering you innocent

of attempted vehicular manslaughter
on the woman you married,

it still comes back as porn?

- I heard that one's hot.
- Really?

- What are you doing here?
- Shirley Temple for the lady.

You are a married man now, okay?
And sitting around in a bar all day

getting drunk and watching pornography
may be spousal duty in some countries,

like Iceland...

I can find beauty in any woman,
and I mean any woman,

just not my own wife.
Somebody else's wife, definitely.

I just,

I can't jinx my cock
to a lifetime of monogamy.

Your saying is, you're not registered
for any gifts anywhere at all?

For the last time,
it's not a real fucking marriage.

I'm doing it for spousal privilege.
Why do you think we've been

- working on this affidavit all day?
- Say it, don't spray it, man.

You haven't proven to be the most
trustworthy husband thus far?

And what makes you think
that she's going to agree to release

the only legal tether
she has to you?

You don't know
how I operate, do you?

I make that woman weak in the knees
and it's not just her osteoporosis.

I can get her to sign
whatever I want.

Really? And what if you can't?

Wife or jail, which do you prefer?

Mexico.

Coma marriage or not,
you need to make that woman happy.

You might not want to hear it,
but I insist you head home right now

and you make things work with your wife.
Otherwise, you won't be entering Mexico

but Mexicans will be entering you,

south of the border, mister.

You'll have to excuse the mess.
It's been a bit hectic

ever since Justin's dad left
and no one told me you were coming.

That's the purpose
of a surprise inspection.

- Mrs. Schneider...
- Ms. Fitzpatrick.

And I still don't understand
why you're here.

Did Saul send you?

There have been several red flags

regarding Justin's care
in recent weeks.

His teacher reported a lunch consisting
solely of a jar of martini olives.

He loves garnish.

His karate instructor notes
an excessive use of profanity.

Limiting his vocabulary
is a form of censorship.

- The police found him at a party.
- That was his uncle's fault.

- I could go on.
- Oh, could you?

But you're just getting here now.

Maybe you're the negligent one.

We're watching you, Ms. Fitz.

We expect to see a marked improvement
in Justin's upbringing.

Or what? You're gonna have me fixed?
Take away my right to have children?

Your ex-husband is perfectly willing
to assume full custody, ma'am.

- Really, we need to get going.
- OK, in a minute.

Cum stain,

I'm making up a list of things
I've always wanted to do before I die.

What's the name of that thing?

- We'll need more information.
- You know, the fucking thing.

With the "doo-whack-a-pivy".

- Russian roulette.
- That's it.

What's Little Orphan Awful doing?

It's time for Richard
to get home to his wife.

You're not telling me
you went through with that farce?

To say out of prison,
I'd do anything.

Maybe if you went,
I'd have some respect for you.

But now... you gotta hide
behind a piece of leathery gas

'cause you're to cheap
to pay the piper for your actions.

I'm trying to impress upon Richard
how rewarding a marriage can be.

Reward?

Only if she dies,
then only if she's loaded.

Otherwise, you're just like
one of the other suckers around here,

walking around
with your nuts in a vice.

Let's go.

Why would you ever agree
to marry a scumbag

like Richard Fitzpatrick
in the first place?

You know he only did it
after he did some half-assed research

into spousal privilege.

I think someone's upset because
she hasn't landed a man of her own yet.

Little hint, dear,
men don't like uptight.

I have just busted my ass
trying to get this guy for you.

And now I've got him,
so mission accomplished.

Why do you have
to make everything into a battle?

- I beat Dad.
- So, he's your reward?

Well, I think you know he is.

It's funny
how we have similar taste in men.

I really hoped that when you woke up,
things would be different with us.

Darling daughter,

life is not a maxi pad commercial.

This tea tastes like ass.

It's ginseng,

a Chinese tonic used to improve
mental clarity which is

currently clouded by alcohol,
so drink up.

No. If I have to service my wife
to stay out of prison,

I'm doing it the old-fashioned way:

Loaded.

I knew you would find
this whole husband thing distasteful,

so I researched coping mechanisms
to help you to the initial rough patch.

"Operant conditioning:

When you undergo
something challenging-".

Like banging my wife.

"Give yourself positive reinforcement
to get through it."

Yeah, like... a happy memory, or...

something good that you can associate
with the unpleasant act,

making it more pleasurable so you want
to do it again and again and again.

Keep the car running.

Happy memory!

Is that what it was?

Well, if it isn't my stepdaughter?

No, I'm not getting dragged any deeper
into your warped little psycho drama.

- I'm out of here.
- You're still coming for Christmas?

It would mean so much
to your mother.

You're late.

Yeah, there was...
some trouble at the office.

And you don't think
I can smell scotch on your breath?

You know,
this isn't my first rodeo, young man.

And I think we both know
what this marriage is all about.

You don't want to go to prison.

I don't intend to lock you up,
unless it's to my radiator.

But I'm not gonna absolve you
of this accident without a little...

compensation.

- I wouldn't dream of it.
- And if you play your cards right,

I might even help you
with your Summer Wind Lounge.

How do you know about that?

I had locked-in syndrome,
waking coma,

when you poured
your heart out to me.

I was conscious for every word.

Fuck me.

You are fucking me.

See...

I'm a woman of a certain age,

with certain consistent needs now.

Is that too much to ask?

- Break it down for me.
- 7 times a week.

- Twice.
- 4 times with co-showers.

- I got 15 minutes right now.
- Done.

This isn't really
what I had in mind, Mr. Fitz.

I was thinking more like skydiving

or going to see the pyramids.

Like some kind of
geriatric fruitcake.

You said you'd help me with the list,
so let's get this done.

If you miss,
can I have the apple and

five minutes alone with the body?

Get in line.

Now, hold steady.

Steady...

Sex with your wife
is still sex with a woman.

It's just the same woman, day in
and day out for the rest of your life.

Come on, buddy,

it's either this

or be the Aryan Brotherhood's
spank bank for the next five to ten.

Is that what you want?

Come on, man, you owe me.

That's the spirit.

Don't stop.

I like watching.

Happy memory,

happy memory.

Happy memory,

happy memory.

I like it hard,

I like it fast
and I like it real deep.

Happy memory.

I like to be called Mr. Pants.

Giddy up, Mr. Pants.

Why, Mr. Pants!

You didn't show up for work today.
Are you okay?

I know exactly what I'm doing.

So Mrs. Devin is happy?

I'll say she's happy.

She's been "Fitzed",
several times, I might add.

You want details too, you pervert?

You want to see some photos?

No, of course not.

And?

Do you need a ride to work?

Just cover for me, will you?

I'll let you and your wife get back
to sitting in the glow of wedded bliss.

Martinis,

Ocean's Eleven original recipe
and oral?

You're spoiling me.

- Did you make our bed?
- No.

You defied me.

That's what I love about you,
the fighting...

friction.
I am so turned on right now.

You have been a bad boy.

Yes, I have.

And you deserve a spanking.

Come here.

Do you like that, Mr. Pants?

I'll be a good little Fitzy
from now on.

I promise!

Where is
that cauterized haemorrhoid?

Are you talking about Richard?

Who else would I call
a cauterized haemorrhoid?

Everyone?

Answer the question.

He's at home with his wife,

a little conjugal time
for the happy newlyweds.

What's he doing?
Licking cream off her liver spots?

Shoving suppository
meds up her crack?

He's doing what he has to do
in order to make his marriage work:

Become an honest man.

Honest? Him?

I'd have a better chance
of licking my own balls.

I just thought of something else
for the list.

Just checking in.

How's the happy couple?

Still happy? Still a couple?

What do you think, dork?

I don't know what to think.

Can you hurry this up?

We're having waffles,
with whipped cream.

Mr. Pants, do you want strawberries?

- What did she just say?
- Strawberries.

- Make it two, two.
- No, the other thing,

"Mr. Pants."

That's what your mother called you
as a child.

Would you let me stick to the plan?

- I know what I'm doing.
- I'm not sure what's going on there,

but, we should discuss the emotional
implications of regressing?

I should have known better
than to meddle in a situation like this.

I'm your conscience, not your heart.

- Mr. Pants?
- Got to go.

You know I hate soggy waffles.

I need a favour.

Can we do this later?

Social services is on my ass because
Justin had a few beer at the party

you organized for Richard and now

I'm a bad parent.

I need a character reference.

I'll do it later,
but right now, I have to go.

I already wrote one up.
All you have to do is sign.

"Meghan is not only an awesome mom

"who lets Justin do all the cool stuff
other parents won't.

She's also a total "milf"."

What's a "milf"?
Is that Spanish for something?

Don't be ridiculous. It's French
for "Mother I'd like to fuck."

Mother.

Fucker.

Dear God!

You forgot to sign it!

This is very serious, Ms. Devin.

Richard hasn't shown up for work

and he's licking cream from the teat
of a woman's wanton sexual obsessions.

So it's his typical Thursday.

He's having a psychotic break,

a relapse to a child-like state
and is using your mother

as a stand-in for the maternal love
that he never got.

A grown man with the needs
of a five-year-old? What he'll do?

It certainly can't be worse
than anything he's already done.

Look, I know you blame Richard
for your mother's accident,

and for the myriad of other things

he may have done,

but I also know that

you may be the only one

he truly cares about.

Even though he's sleeping
with my mother.

He is an enigma,
wrapped in an expensive Italian suit.

It's a knock-off.
I'll give you that.

But, please, just...

You may be his only hope.

Thanks for lunch.

Have you ever had a connection
with someone

so deep
that you couldn't explain it?

They're the complete opposite
of you and they drive you insane,

but no matter what they do,

your feelings for them
always win out?

You really believe
there's something in him worth saving.

I wouldn't be here otherwise.

And I think that, deep down,
when it comes to family,

you do too.

No, not really.

Wait, please.

Don't make me go there alone.

Dude, nice job.

Those begonias rock.

My stitches are uneven.

But I don't give a flying fuck.

Five minutes with my dead body?

Nice.

Sorry.

I can help with the list.

There.

- Done.
- That's the last thing.

There's one more.

Let's go.

Don't worry about it.
I'll take it from here.

Mr. Pants wants a spanking.

And what did he do this time?

He left the toilet seat up.

Bad, bad Mr. Pants.

I was just thinking about a spanking
like we did before. Over your knee?

We're taking it up a notch,
Mr. Pants.

You're getting ten extra spankings
for this attitude, young man.

My God! You were trying
to breastfeed,

you little jerk!

You don't want to be my fuck slave.

You want me to be your...

Mom!

Wait,

It's just a game, like you like.

- What do you want now?
- We are here

to put an end to this farce.
Don't you see?

You're plan to gain your freedom
has been derailed

by your disturbingly
inappropriate Oedipal urges.

Babs is not your mommy
and you are not a child.

I know that, dumb-ass.

There's no way she's going
to sign that affidavit.

Your urge to regress is so strong,

I don't even know
if you want her to sign it.

Give it to me.

Here it is. Get out of my life.

If I wanted to be a mother, I'd give
a rat's ass about "cankles".

Typically, you just blame everyone else
for the mess that you made.

I was excellent.

Your father was not, coddling you,
pampering you, spoiling you.

It's called parenting. It's what you do
after you get pregnant.

You always took his side.

This is good.
Clear the air, no more secrets.

- But getting back to Richard...
- You were never around.

You always did what you wanted
to do, including my boyfriends.

You're a great mom, stole every guy

I ever liked, even my prom date.

Poor little Allie never gets
what she wants?

Really?

Him?

- I don't want him.
- Really?

Don't lie to me,
you ungrateful douche bag.

Go to hell, you crazy cougar bitch.

All she's ever done

is try to protect you
and this is the thanks she gets?

Perhaps we should leave
now that Mrs. Devin

has been kind enough to release you
from a lifetime behind bars.

I'd prefer prison to spending
another minute with this

face-sucking toilet sack.

What do you want?

I'll just help gather his things.

Whatever.

Just leave, okay?

Us siblings got to stick together.

But you're my stepdad.

My dad calls me a douche bag too.

This letter is quite colourful,

but insufficient.

I'm going to have to recommend that,
Justin live with his father.

What are you talking about?
I did all the crap you told me to.

This isn't about impressing me.

This is about providing the proper
environment for your son.

All right.

You want to hear it?

I don't know how to be a mother
because I never had a mother.

It's the same reason I drink,

can't jack off, date jerks, have an

unhealthy obsession
with romantic comedies.

And it's the same reason I need you
out of my house right now

before I fulfill
the family fucking prophecy

and whack you
back to community college

with the snot-nosed do-gooders
who have no idea what it was like

growing up a Fitz.

"What, I'm supposed to be proud,
just 'cause you graduated?

Get a freebie from a hooker,
then I'll be proud."

You graduating high school?

I have a sense of humour too.

Wonders never cease.

I don't want to kiss you.

I don't want either.

- Douche bag.
- Right back at you.

This is truly fantastic.

You're having
an honest emotional reaction.

You know,
I think you had to regress first.

You had to purge that mommy pain

and transcend it
so you can get to a place where

you can follow your heart
and move on and...

Motherfucker!

For once,
I had to agree with the bastard.

Most of that porn was irreplaceable.

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