Call Me Fitz (2010–2013): Season 3, Episode 3 - The Virgin Homo-cide - full transcript
With his campaign coffers running desperately low, Fitz decides to seduce the old money establishment at the local country club for donations.
Operation Elect Fitz is 24 hours old
and I'm not even on the ballot.
You need to tell Larry that
I'm your campaign manager!
I think we can all agree that
I am most qualified for the job.
You're not in the computer.
According to this,
you don't even exist.
I merely suggested to some
people I know at City Hall
that if Fitz was somehow
accidentally deleted from the system,
maybe they'd get a little raise.
You stole that Wurlitzer from my shop!
I want it back!
If you guys had any real claim
to some jukebox you think I have,
you'd have called the cops by now.
Who needs the cops?
I got the gay mafia.
What the fuck are you
doing here anyway?
I need my birth certificate -
And not the fake one!
I want out of Miami with my Wurlitzer!
Brotherfuckers!
Richard Fitzpatrick
makes good on a promise -
any promise -
I have to come down here
and see it for myself.
Blah blah, unrequited,
blah blah, sign!
Well, congratulations.
No thanks to you.
Prove it.
Maybe later.
Right now I've got an election to win.
What is the present
if you ignore the past?
I'll tell you what it is.
A fuck of a lot more fun.
Remember that famous story
of the guy who had a
blast following tradition
and doing what he was told
every day of his kick-ass life?
The repairs are complete.
Your humble chariot awaits.
If you'd please...
Of course you don't.
Because that guy doesn't exist.
Tradition's for jerk offs.
Brown nosers who let dead people
tell them how to run their shit.
Salam aleikum!
Your sayara is ready.
It's good, right?
Atta boy.
Three more to go.
Is that?
The local Imam?
You bet your ass it is.
And I just sold him this SUV.
What? Gotta celebrate
with a new customers.
It's tradition.
We need more signs.
We can't afford more signs.
Signage is so two thousand and ten.
The future?
It's in t-shirts.
Huh?
It's like a sign...
you can wear.
Want one? I got a thousand.
Tell me you paid for them yourself.
No, Fitzy covered it.
Could have.
Things got kind of hazy
after that second eight ball.
It was a victory party.
You haven't won anything yet!
And you can't if your
campaign chest is empty.
Hey, one man calls the shots
around here.
And his name rhymes with tits.
Fitz!
You're my campaign manager.
Manage to get me some bread.
Fear not. As co-manager-
Ha! Co-manager?
More like assistant tampon.
Mean. And I have a solution.
With my research -
that Dot didn't do -
I found out that over half
of the city councillors
are members of Glenn
Downs Country Club.
They control local politics.
If we get them on side we'll win.
I hate to rain on Larry's pride parade
but the Glen Downs?
You?
You think I can't hobnob old money?
How should I put this?
You're cotton blend, they're vicu?a.
Screw you.
And whatever vicu?a is.
I agree.
With less strong language.
And vicu?a is rare, luxury wool.
Huh.
I'll have them eating out
of my palm by sundown.
Bullshit.
You don't have a virgin
corn hole's chance
in a fag bar.
It's on his tab.
Fuck that and fuck you.
I could charm the shit out
of those country club pricks.
Prick charmer, huh? Go ahead.
Tickle their balls with your chin.
Gotta make some sacrifices
if you're getting
into politics, right?
You hear that, old man?
It's the end. And it's coming.
Nothing left for you to do
but try to find your glory days
in the bottom of a bottle.
You think you're the
only one with plans, kid?
Only thing you ever had
was your dealership.
And now you got shit.
I'm gonna get it back.
How you gonna do that?
'Nother round for the has been.
Making big plans is thirsty work.
I'll say hi to the
country club for you.
You do that.
You tell 'em Ken Fitzpatrick
sends his fondest regards.
If you insist on doing this,
you're going to need some of
my beauty queen etiquette
to spit and polish your rough edges.
Sounds like a blowjob.
Thank you for proving my point.
The country club's bylaws
clearly state a strict dress code.
And I don't think we should have
jumped the fence to get in.
Quit being such a little bitch, Larry.
Yeah, Larry.
We must respect their traditions
in order to earn their acceptance.
They're not Indians, ass-magnet.
I gotta take a leak.
No, no!
Hey, Freedom 55.
In case you hadn't noticed,
this bush is occupied.
In case you hadn't noticed,
you're urinating on my ball.
Play through.
Wandering around like
this is a common park.
Why the city won't let us
electrify the fence is beyond me.
Cripes, Fitz.
Just introduce yourself,
pretend you met somewhere.
You seriously coaching
me on a sales job, Red?
All right, let's skip the ass sniffing
and cut to the chase, okay?
I'm the guy who's going to
let you electrify this fence
to stop scumbags like me
from pissing all over your back nine.
Coverton's next councilman,
Richard Fitzpatrick.
Fitzpatrick?
So you're the young turk
who's shaking up the
municipal election.
So, you've heard of me.
In passing.
I can't endorse anyone
who isn't a member of the club.
He'd be happy to join.
Honour to meet you, sir.
Larry. More important than her.
Membership is closed.
But I like the cut
of your jib, Fitzpatrick.
I might be able to get
the club to open its books.
It won't be easy.
To become part of Glen Downs
is to become part of history.
Richard will do anything.
Well, Richard...
Let's discuss it over a round of golf.
Sure...
Isn't there a rule
that no unmarried women
are allowed on the course?
Uh huh...
That's sexist.
Cousin, how many times
must I remind you
to shut the door?
Were you born in a barn?
Like you, I was born in a tent.
And this door has been forced open.
Thievery!
Cousin, phone the police.
This is my shit!
You sold it to us.
I sold you this joint,
not my lucky stapler.
The fuck have you done to the place?
Looks like the goddamned
Temple of Doom in there.
Your office is now our prayer room.
You sick fucks.
No, you are the fuck of sickness!
Qur'an this, assholes.
Okay... that is a phone book.
Good luck calling people.
Please leave or we will
have you removed.
You and whose army?
This ain't over, camel dusters!
I'm gonna tear your shit show apart!
It's like a tablecloth
date-raped a kilt.
It's not so bad.
So what's your pleasure?
Best ball? Skins? Stroke play?
My kinda club.
Those are golf terms, not coitus.
You do play?
Yeah. Sure.
I've been hitting the
skins since I was a kid.
Fine. How 'bout a small wager?
Say ten a hole?
Never say no to easy money.
Good. Ten thousand it is.
No no no no!
Man up, Larry.
I got it... Richard...
Okay, I got this. Richard!
Hey, wait up!
Wait! Richard!
I got this!
Yeah, you try and beat
my high score, asshole!
Watch me!
I had it all, kid.
Money. Women. Power.
I was a king.
Yeah, and you traded it all
for a shiny F.
Been there, man.
Don't touch me, Hippy.
I got no time for
your kumbaya bullshit.
Sorry, Mr. F.
Hey is that a coincidence or what?
Ken Fitzpatrick, idiot.
Whoa.
Triple coincidence.
My life's been in the shitter
since I sold out to those chinks.
No shit, dude.
You had a rat tail.
Fuck off and help.
I got to sell a lotta fucking cars
before I kick the bucket.
I gotta get those fucks off my lot.
Yeah.
Go dig up some terrorist shit.
Or plant some.
Oh... Yeah.
Watch and learn.
Fuck!
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Richard!
While I support you exercising,
I feel it prudent to point out
that we currently owe
sixty thousand dollars.
We need a way out. Break my arm.
I don't owe anything
unless I finish the game.
Richard, I could never-Do it!
I'd break both your legs for a nickel.
Come on! Do it! Do it!
Really?
Had enough?
Just getting started.
I'm only going to end this farce
because you're ruining
a perfectly good bunker.
You never had a chance.
Fitzpatricks have been banned
since your father sold me a
lemon of a Cadillac in '92.
You and your kind -
keep climbing.
You weasely fuck.
What about the campaign endorsement?
If I were you, I'd worry more
about the sixty thousand you owe me.
Well, that's not fair.
Fuck them.
And fuck my old man for
fucking them first.
Rich poncy pricks.
You are rich in Richard
and that's all that matters.
Jesus, ass-buffet,
give it a rest, will ya.
What mattered was getting
their support, remember?
You should.
It was your idea in the first place.
Didn't know it was ladies night.
You knew I didn't stand a chance
and you let me walk right
into that snake pit.
Fucking Van Bulow.
There was nothing wrong
with that Cadillac.
Serves you right for
trying to suck up.
You can still win them over, Richard.
Screw you for making me listen
to your stupid ideas,
and screw you for making me pick
up the tab for your mistakes.
What are you doing?
What I should have done
in the first place.
I'm doing it my way.
Fitz!
Fitz!
FITZ
What the hell happened?
Wait.
Let's make this easier -
what didn't happen?
Uh, it was gin.
Lots of gin.
And then everything
goes kind of foggy.
You seen my car keys?
Uh, no...
Ring-a-ding-ding, Fitzy.
Richard!
For the love of all that is holy.
What have you done?
That sure helped, Larry.
Figures he's too much of a pussy
to keep tabs on you like I asked.
Sounds like he got
an ass-full too.
Where is he?
Don't know. Don't care.
Where do you think you're going?
The clubhouse. Hair of the dog.
More alcohol.
That's exactly what you need.
I just want to make sure
I gave those rich pricks
a piece of my mind.
So Reginald Van Bulow will torddo
your chances in politics?
You need to apologize
for whatever you did.
We are in damage control mode.
Listen, Legs.
I'm at my limit for bad advice.
One man steers the S.S. Fitz
and that's me.
What are you doing, infidel?
Stealing fine-liner pens?
It is worse than camel smuggling!
No! See...
I heard... A noise.
I came in to investigate
and found this:
C4, blasting caps, timers...
You ought to be careful with that.
Someone wishes to tar us with
the brush of terrorism.
Home.
Someone who is totally not me.
Josh, help us find out
who is trying to frame us
and you will reap a great reward.
Like a sammich?
All the sandwiches you can imagine.
I can imagine two sandwiches
and a bag of chips.
Deal!
Yes!
Excuse me...
How did you not get arrested?
Not one hundred percent on that.
There you are!
The old prick himself.
Mr. Van Bulow,
before you vilify Richard,
I should remind you
that he was drinking
at your establishment
so whatever he did
is as much your
responsibility as it is his.
I would think twice before
you go to the press.
Defamation is a two-way street.
Whoa. Easy, Ginger.
You're right, Ace.
She is a pistol.
Ace?
There's no need to blow
this out of proportion.
Sometimes people just
say and do things
they don't mean.
Well then those people
should take a page
from the book of Fitz.
He's a man of his word.
We do have some unfinished
business between us.
Bring it on.
That's what we
like about you Ace -
your enthusiasm.
It'll be good to get some
fresh blood into this place.
I'll see you at the initiation.
Not if I see you first.
You'll never see me coming.
Fuck me if I'm wrong,
but did he seem happy to see me?
He's screwing with you Fitz.
Or whatever I got up to last night
got me the old money vote.
See? Stick with me, Kid.
Yeah, I'm sure that's it.
You're just oh so charming
he overlooked all of this.
If you're going to be
annoying like Larry,
at least keep track
of my shit the way he does.
Where the fuck are my car keys?
Oh, that's right!
The coat check girl...
Oh, of course.
You remember the hot chick.
Well, everyone's got their priorities.
And some are bigger than others.
That's blood.
Grotty one, have you learned anything?
I'm working on it...
Are those my sandwiches?
Ken hired someone to
plant that C4 on you.
And this interloper is...?
Very, very conflicted.
He has a past with Ken,
but you're starting to grow on him.
We must find this treasonous hyena
and castrate him.
No, you don't.
He's just a pawn.
Josh is right.
What matters is why does
the Elder Fitzpatrick
engage in such subterfuge.
Apparently, he wants
the dealership back.
Selling cars is all he knows.
Even if he got it back,
he cannot sell cars.
Our agreement includes a
non-competition clause.
Fitzpatrick cannot own a dealership.
Any dealership.
Unless he opened it in someone
else's name and then...
He has found a loophole.
Cousin.
He must be stopped.
This isn't right.
That's way better.
Richard, if you have coitus
with the virginal coat check girl,
they will kill you.
Tell me you didn't sleep with her.
It doesn't make any sense.
Why does the coat check girl
have to be a virgin?
These rich fucks will
collect anything:
Cars, art, hymens.
If they wanted to kill you, why
didn't they kill you last night?
Or an hour ago?
Good question.
You stay here and ask.
Let me know how it pans out.
That's far enough,
Mr. Fitzpatrick.
There you are. Get him.
It's time. Time for what?
Ace, you are a card.
What the fuck!
I can't do this anymore.
I'm out.
What the fuck is this shit?
I broke the first
rule of the spy game.
I got too close to my target.
I crossed the line with pastrami.
I don't know whose side
I'm on anymore, man.
You will stick it out
until the end, shit smear,
or I swear to God I will destroy you.
See? It never ends.
You spy on them, they spy on you.
You plant evidence on them
and they suspect you're
opening a dealership
in someone else's name.
They think what?
They think you've found some loophole
in your sales contract.
You can't open your own place,
but someone else -
like a relative or
some shit - can.
You fucking genius.
You're fired.
The sacred talisman of Anzu.
Passed down through our
people for centuries.
Anzu is our past and our future.
Anzu grants us youth and vitality.
Wealth, power and 3 under par.
But she requires a tribute
that can only be paid in blood.
You don't need to
murder us both, do you?
That would be overkill.
Look Reg, if you're going to snuff me,
at least tell me what the
fuck happened last night.
You don't remember
tearing our club apart?
Telling us all to eff off?
Saying our traditions were nonsense?
That deep down we
all wanted to be you?
Oh good. I did tell you.
And then you deflowered
the coat check girl.
She was to be tonight's
virgin sacrifice.
I know you fuck up a lot
but this has got to
be a personal best.
This is your shitpile, Lady.
"You have to apologize, Fitz."
Me?
Coming here was Larry's idea.
"It'll be wonderful, Richard.
"Tradition and...
I'm a loser."
I do not sound like that...
Do I?
Richard! You're ok!
You're going to kill Larry?
A virgin's a virgin.
Sacrifice him and all your
dreams will come true.
Wealth. Power. Privilege.
Our political endorsement.
Cast off the sins of
your degenerate father
and join us...
Sounds like a fair deal.
Richard, I want you to know
that I won't hold it against you.
That's fair.
Seeing as how this
is all your fucking fault.
It is my fault.
I've learned my lesson.
And I accept my punishment
for all the horrible things I've done:
Like killing that poor titmouse-
Shut up about that fucking bird!
You killed a bird?
Uh huh, forcing you to
compromise your values
for political and financial gain.
A compromise that will give
you everything you want.
Excuse me!
This is a private conversation!
I have to say, this is very tempting.
You been fucking up my
life for a long time, Larry.
Then do it.
My karmic debt must be paid.
If anyone is going to
sacrifice me to a pagan god,
I'm glad it's you.
I hope you learn something from this.
No no no! Not his heart!
When it's a male sacrifice,
we cut off his johnson
and feast upon it.
That is the secret of our virility.
Yeah, I'm out.
You all eat penis?
Fucking help me.
Get him!
Tell him to get back,
or the bird gets it!
You think you can run?
Get back, you cock-loving
motherfuckers!
Get him! Nice to meet you!
I don't care about
your artificial hips!
Get them!
Run! Get 'em!
Get in, Larry! Drive!
I need a fucking drink.
Hock this.
Told you I'd get those fuckers
to contribute to my campaign.
But that's grand larceny.
Then ransom it back to them and
we'll call it a kidnapping.
And piss them off even more?
We saw their little penis party.
They won't do shit.
But-Drop it, Foxley.
You guys do things your way.
I'll do them my way.
Or, we could consider this
a cautionary tale against
alcohol and philandering.
Maybe sometimes your
father does know best.
Fuck that.
My old man's a
washed up half-sack.
He's finished.
You're all going down, fuckers!
Sync & corrections by Monkeymann
and I'm not even on the ballot.
You need to tell Larry that
I'm your campaign manager!
I think we can all agree that
I am most qualified for the job.
You're not in the computer.
According to this,
you don't even exist.
I merely suggested to some
people I know at City Hall
that if Fitz was somehow
accidentally deleted from the system,
maybe they'd get a little raise.
You stole that Wurlitzer from my shop!
I want it back!
If you guys had any real claim
to some jukebox you think I have,
you'd have called the cops by now.
Who needs the cops?
I got the gay mafia.
What the fuck are you
doing here anyway?
I need my birth certificate -
And not the fake one!
I want out of Miami with my Wurlitzer!
Brotherfuckers!
Richard Fitzpatrick
makes good on a promise -
any promise -
I have to come down here
and see it for myself.
Blah blah, unrequited,
blah blah, sign!
Well, congratulations.
No thanks to you.
Prove it.
Maybe later.
Right now I've got an election to win.
What is the present
if you ignore the past?
I'll tell you what it is.
A fuck of a lot more fun.
Remember that famous story
of the guy who had a
blast following tradition
and doing what he was told
every day of his kick-ass life?
The repairs are complete.
Your humble chariot awaits.
If you'd please...
Of course you don't.
Because that guy doesn't exist.
Tradition's for jerk offs.
Brown nosers who let dead people
tell them how to run their shit.
Salam aleikum!
Your sayara is ready.
It's good, right?
Atta boy.
Three more to go.
Is that?
The local Imam?
You bet your ass it is.
And I just sold him this SUV.
What? Gotta celebrate
with a new customers.
It's tradition.
We need more signs.
We can't afford more signs.
Signage is so two thousand and ten.
The future?
It's in t-shirts.
Huh?
It's like a sign...
you can wear.
Want one? I got a thousand.
Tell me you paid for them yourself.
No, Fitzy covered it.
Could have.
Things got kind of hazy
after that second eight ball.
It was a victory party.
You haven't won anything yet!
And you can't if your
campaign chest is empty.
Hey, one man calls the shots
around here.
And his name rhymes with tits.
Fitz!
You're my campaign manager.
Manage to get me some bread.
Fear not. As co-manager-
Ha! Co-manager?
More like assistant tampon.
Mean. And I have a solution.
With my research -
that Dot didn't do -
I found out that over half
of the city councillors
are members of Glenn
Downs Country Club.
They control local politics.
If we get them on side we'll win.
I hate to rain on Larry's pride parade
but the Glen Downs?
You?
You think I can't hobnob old money?
How should I put this?
You're cotton blend, they're vicu?a.
Screw you.
And whatever vicu?a is.
I agree.
With less strong language.
And vicu?a is rare, luxury wool.
Huh.
I'll have them eating out
of my palm by sundown.
Bullshit.
You don't have a virgin
corn hole's chance
in a fag bar.
It's on his tab.
Fuck that and fuck you.
I could charm the shit out
of those country club pricks.
Prick charmer, huh? Go ahead.
Tickle their balls with your chin.
Gotta make some sacrifices
if you're getting
into politics, right?
You hear that, old man?
It's the end. And it's coming.
Nothing left for you to do
but try to find your glory days
in the bottom of a bottle.
You think you're the
only one with plans, kid?
Only thing you ever had
was your dealership.
And now you got shit.
I'm gonna get it back.
How you gonna do that?
'Nother round for the has been.
Making big plans is thirsty work.
I'll say hi to the
country club for you.
You do that.
You tell 'em Ken Fitzpatrick
sends his fondest regards.
If you insist on doing this,
you're going to need some of
my beauty queen etiquette
to spit and polish your rough edges.
Sounds like a blowjob.
Thank you for proving my point.
The country club's bylaws
clearly state a strict dress code.
And I don't think we should have
jumped the fence to get in.
Quit being such a little bitch, Larry.
Yeah, Larry.
We must respect their traditions
in order to earn their acceptance.
They're not Indians, ass-magnet.
I gotta take a leak.
No, no!
Hey, Freedom 55.
In case you hadn't noticed,
this bush is occupied.
In case you hadn't noticed,
you're urinating on my ball.
Play through.
Wandering around like
this is a common park.
Why the city won't let us
electrify the fence is beyond me.
Cripes, Fitz.
Just introduce yourself,
pretend you met somewhere.
You seriously coaching
me on a sales job, Red?
All right, let's skip the ass sniffing
and cut to the chase, okay?
I'm the guy who's going to
let you electrify this fence
to stop scumbags like me
from pissing all over your back nine.
Coverton's next councilman,
Richard Fitzpatrick.
Fitzpatrick?
So you're the young turk
who's shaking up the
municipal election.
So, you've heard of me.
In passing.
I can't endorse anyone
who isn't a member of the club.
He'd be happy to join.
Honour to meet you, sir.
Larry. More important than her.
Membership is closed.
But I like the cut
of your jib, Fitzpatrick.
I might be able to get
the club to open its books.
It won't be easy.
To become part of Glen Downs
is to become part of history.
Richard will do anything.
Well, Richard...
Let's discuss it over a round of golf.
Sure...
Isn't there a rule
that no unmarried women
are allowed on the course?
Uh huh...
That's sexist.
Cousin, how many times
must I remind you
to shut the door?
Were you born in a barn?
Like you, I was born in a tent.
And this door has been forced open.
Thievery!
Cousin, phone the police.
This is my shit!
You sold it to us.
I sold you this joint,
not my lucky stapler.
The fuck have you done to the place?
Looks like the goddamned
Temple of Doom in there.
Your office is now our prayer room.
You sick fucks.
No, you are the fuck of sickness!
Qur'an this, assholes.
Okay... that is a phone book.
Good luck calling people.
Please leave or we will
have you removed.
You and whose army?
This ain't over, camel dusters!
I'm gonna tear your shit show apart!
It's like a tablecloth
date-raped a kilt.
It's not so bad.
So what's your pleasure?
Best ball? Skins? Stroke play?
My kinda club.
Those are golf terms, not coitus.
You do play?
Yeah. Sure.
I've been hitting the
skins since I was a kid.
Fine. How 'bout a small wager?
Say ten a hole?
Never say no to easy money.
Good. Ten thousand it is.
No no no no!
Man up, Larry.
I got it... Richard...
Okay, I got this. Richard!
Hey, wait up!
Wait! Richard!
I got this!
Yeah, you try and beat
my high score, asshole!
Watch me!
I had it all, kid.
Money. Women. Power.
I was a king.
Yeah, and you traded it all
for a shiny F.
Been there, man.
Don't touch me, Hippy.
I got no time for
your kumbaya bullshit.
Sorry, Mr. F.
Hey is that a coincidence or what?
Ken Fitzpatrick, idiot.
Whoa.
Triple coincidence.
My life's been in the shitter
since I sold out to those chinks.
No shit, dude.
You had a rat tail.
Fuck off and help.
I got to sell a lotta fucking cars
before I kick the bucket.
I gotta get those fucks off my lot.
Yeah.
Go dig up some terrorist shit.
Or plant some.
Oh... Yeah.
Watch and learn.
Fuck!
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Richard!
While I support you exercising,
I feel it prudent to point out
that we currently owe
sixty thousand dollars.
We need a way out. Break my arm.
I don't owe anything
unless I finish the game.
Richard, I could never-Do it!
I'd break both your legs for a nickel.
Come on! Do it! Do it!
Really?
Had enough?
Just getting started.
I'm only going to end this farce
because you're ruining
a perfectly good bunker.
You never had a chance.
Fitzpatricks have been banned
since your father sold me a
lemon of a Cadillac in '92.
You and your kind -
keep climbing.
You weasely fuck.
What about the campaign endorsement?
If I were you, I'd worry more
about the sixty thousand you owe me.
Well, that's not fair.
Fuck them.
And fuck my old man for
fucking them first.
Rich poncy pricks.
You are rich in Richard
and that's all that matters.
Jesus, ass-buffet,
give it a rest, will ya.
What mattered was getting
their support, remember?
You should.
It was your idea in the first place.
Didn't know it was ladies night.
You knew I didn't stand a chance
and you let me walk right
into that snake pit.
Fucking Van Bulow.
There was nothing wrong
with that Cadillac.
Serves you right for
trying to suck up.
You can still win them over, Richard.
Screw you for making me listen
to your stupid ideas,
and screw you for making me pick
up the tab for your mistakes.
What are you doing?
What I should have done
in the first place.
I'm doing it my way.
Fitz!
Fitz!
FITZ
What the hell happened?
Wait.
Let's make this easier -
what didn't happen?
Uh, it was gin.
Lots of gin.
And then everything
goes kind of foggy.
You seen my car keys?
Uh, no...
Ring-a-ding-ding, Fitzy.
Richard!
For the love of all that is holy.
What have you done?
That sure helped, Larry.
Figures he's too much of a pussy
to keep tabs on you like I asked.
Sounds like he got
an ass-full too.
Where is he?
Don't know. Don't care.
Where do you think you're going?
The clubhouse. Hair of the dog.
More alcohol.
That's exactly what you need.
I just want to make sure
I gave those rich pricks
a piece of my mind.
So Reginald Van Bulow will torddo
your chances in politics?
You need to apologize
for whatever you did.
We are in damage control mode.
Listen, Legs.
I'm at my limit for bad advice.
One man steers the S.S. Fitz
and that's me.
What are you doing, infidel?
Stealing fine-liner pens?
It is worse than camel smuggling!
No! See...
I heard... A noise.
I came in to investigate
and found this:
C4, blasting caps, timers...
You ought to be careful with that.
Someone wishes to tar us with
the brush of terrorism.
Home.
Someone who is totally not me.
Josh, help us find out
who is trying to frame us
and you will reap a great reward.
Like a sammich?
All the sandwiches you can imagine.
I can imagine two sandwiches
and a bag of chips.
Deal!
Yes!
Excuse me...
How did you not get arrested?
Not one hundred percent on that.
There you are!
The old prick himself.
Mr. Van Bulow,
before you vilify Richard,
I should remind you
that he was drinking
at your establishment
so whatever he did
is as much your
responsibility as it is his.
I would think twice before
you go to the press.
Defamation is a two-way street.
Whoa. Easy, Ginger.
You're right, Ace.
She is a pistol.
Ace?
There's no need to blow
this out of proportion.
Sometimes people just
say and do things
they don't mean.
Well then those people
should take a page
from the book of Fitz.
He's a man of his word.
We do have some unfinished
business between us.
Bring it on.
That's what we
like about you Ace -
your enthusiasm.
It'll be good to get some
fresh blood into this place.
I'll see you at the initiation.
Not if I see you first.
You'll never see me coming.
Fuck me if I'm wrong,
but did he seem happy to see me?
He's screwing with you Fitz.
Or whatever I got up to last night
got me the old money vote.
See? Stick with me, Kid.
Yeah, I'm sure that's it.
You're just oh so charming
he overlooked all of this.
If you're going to be
annoying like Larry,
at least keep track
of my shit the way he does.
Where the fuck are my car keys?
Oh, that's right!
The coat check girl...
Oh, of course.
You remember the hot chick.
Well, everyone's got their priorities.
And some are bigger than others.
That's blood.
Grotty one, have you learned anything?
I'm working on it...
Are those my sandwiches?
Ken hired someone to
plant that C4 on you.
And this interloper is...?
Very, very conflicted.
He has a past with Ken,
but you're starting to grow on him.
We must find this treasonous hyena
and castrate him.
No, you don't.
He's just a pawn.
Josh is right.
What matters is why does
the Elder Fitzpatrick
engage in such subterfuge.
Apparently, he wants
the dealership back.
Selling cars is all he knows.
Even if he got it back,
he cannot sell cars.
Our agreement includes a
non-competition clause.
Fitzpatrick cannot own a dealership.
Any dealership.
Unless he opened it in someone
else's name and then...
He has found a loophole.
Cousin.
He must be stopped.
This isn't right.
That's way better.
Richard, if you have coitus
with the virginal coat check girl,
they will kill you.
Tell me you didn't sleep with her.
It doesn't make any sense.
Why does the coat check girl
have to be a virgin?
These rich fucks will
collect anything:
Cars, art, hymens.
If they wanted to kill you, why
didn't they kill you last night?
Or an hour ago?
Good question.
You stay here and ask.
Let me know how it pans out.
That's far enough,
Mr. Fitzpatrick.
There you are. Get him.
It's time. Time for what?
Ace, you are a card.
What the fuck!
I can't do this anymore.
I'm out.
What the fuck is this shit?
I broke the first
rule of the spy game.
I got too close to my target.
I crossed the line with pastrami.
I don't know whose side
I'm on anymore, man.
You will stick it out
until the end, shit smear,
or I swear to God I will destroy you.
See? It never ends.
You spy on them, they spy on you.
You plant evidence on them
and they suspect you're
opening a dealership
in someone else's name.
They think what?
They think you've found some loophole
in your sales contract.
You can't open your own place,
but someone else -
like a relative or
some shit - can.
You fucking genius.
You're fired.
The sacred talisman of Anzu.
Passed down through our
people for centuries.
Anzu is our past and our future.
Anzu grants us youth and vitality.
Wealth, power and 3 under par.
But she requires a tribute
that can only be paid in blood.
You don't need to
murder us both, do you?
That would be overkill.
Look Reg, if you're going to snuff me,
at least tell me what the
fuck happened last night.
You don't remember
tearing our club apart?
Telling us all to eff off?
Saying our traditions were nonsense?
That deep down we
all wanted to be you?
Oh good. I did tell you.
And then you deflowered
the coat check girl.
She was to be tonight's
virgin sacrifice.
I know you fuck up a lot
but this has got to
be a personal best.
This is your shitpile, Lady.
"You have to apologize, Fitz."
Me?
Coming here was Larry's idea.
"It'll be wonderful, Richard.
"Tradition and...
I'm a loser."
I do not sound like that...
Do I?
Richard! You're ok!
You're going to kill Larry?
A virgin's a virgin.
Sacrifice him and all your
dreams will come true.
Wealth. Power. Privilege.
Our political endorsement.
Cast off the sins of
your degenerate father
and join us...
Sounds like a fair deal.
Richard, I want you to know
that I won't hold it against you.
That's fair.
Seeing as how this
is all your fucking fault.
It is my fault.
I've learned my lesson.
And I accept my punishment
for all the horrible things I've done:
Like killing that poor titmouse-
Shut up about that fucking bird!
You killed a bird?
Uh huh, forcing you to
compromise your values
for political and financial gain.
A compromise that will give
you everything you want.
Excuse me!
This is a private conversation!
I have to say, this is very tempting.
You been fucking up my
life for a long time, Larry.
Then do it.
My karmic debt must be paid.
If anyone is going to
sacrifice me to a pagan god,
I'm glad it's you.
I hope you learn something from this.
No no no! Not his heart!
When it's a male sacrifice,
we cut off his johnson
and feast upon it.
That is the secret of our virility.
Yeah, I'm out.
You all eat penis?
Fucking help me.
Get him!
Tell him to get back,
or the bird gets it!
You think you can run?
Get back, you cock-loving
motherfuckers!
Get him! Nice to meet you!
I don't care about
your artificial hips!
Get them!
Run! Get 'em!
Get in, Larry! Drive!
I need a fucking drink.
Hock this.
Told you I'd get those fuckers
to contribute to my campaign.
But that's grand larceny.
Then ransom it back to them and
we'll call it a kidnapping.
And piss them off even more?
We saw their little penis party.
They won't do shit.
But-Drop it, Foxley.
You guys do things your way.
I'll do them my way.
Or, we could consider this
a cautionary tale against
alcohol and philandering.
Maybe sometimes your
father does know best.
Fuck that.
My old man's a
washed up half-sack.
He's finished.
You're all going down, fuckers!
Sync & corrections by Monkeymann