Call Me Fitz (2010–2013): Season 3, Episode 7 - The Totally Legitimate Death of Meghan Fitzpatrick - full transcript

Hey, pay attention, fuckers.

I'm riding this honesty bullshit

all the way to City Hall.

If you're so honest,

then where have you been
the last 25 years... dad?

Dot's on the way to the clinic

with your toothbrush, and your...

semen sample.

You do have one thing in common...

you both hate your biological fathers.

So...



Oh, genetic compatibility testing.

You've got to give me
something to take the edge off.

I can't stand the sight of her.

Can't stand the sight
of who, Mr. Fitzpatrick?

Who the fuck do you
think I mean, you quack?

Can't. Sorry. Alone.

What do you want from me?
What do you want?

Destroy that bitch Natalie's research

and level the playing field.

Where did the baboon go?

He's HIV positive! He's dying!

It's up to you, Josh.

Lure that little fucker out here

with your ape-like ass.



Go for the fruit!
Please go for the fruit!

I never want to see you again.
Any of you motherfuckers.

Great news!
You're not the father.

Let the press know, will ya?

I got shit to do.

You want to get ahead in the world,

it pays to inspire a little sympathy.

New girl.

My lucky day.

The lost wallet routine? Really?

Step one: Be pathetic.

Forgot my wallet one time

and I'm branded for life.

I guess it's also
my fault I was mugged.

If you call getting smashed
in the back of the head

with a two-by-four a mugging.

That's terrible.

Not as terrible as finding out

my daughter's sleeping with the man

who put me in the hospital.

Or having my kidney stolen
while I was unconscious.

Or learning that my fiancee

ran off with her ex
on our wedding day.

You poor, poor man.

And now I can't work anymore.

My memory's shot.

I forget things all the time...

like my wallet...

and I've lost the ability to do math

so I can't even figure out your tip!

Fuck!

Step two: Reject the
first offer for help.

It's on the house.

No, I don't want your sympathy.

I... I just want my life back.

Don't worry.

She'll step up to the plate.

Because human nature

doesn't make you act
compassionate and shit.

Ego does.

I know how to cheer you up.

But if blowing me in the alley

makes her feel superior,
who am I to judge?

One more thing.

Can I count on your vote

in the upcoming municipal election?

See this, nut-crunch?

This is how you wake someone up.

I can't condone scotch
this early in the day.

So many empty calories.

Shut up, Larry.

We're celebrating.

We've jumped ahead
26 points in the polls.

Fucking A!

Yet still two points behind Chester.

If you want to develop a real lead,

we need to get you ready
for today's debate.

Yeah, public speaking
isn't really my bag.

You wanna build on this momentum?

Play the sympathy card.

Make these hillbilly cousin fuckers

feel bad for good old Fitzy.

That'll crush Chester,
not some fucking debate.

Yeah.

Some kind of illness.

Something crippling.

Yeah. But not the face.

We can't manufacture sympathy.

You're the last honest man!

Don't you ever get tired

of being the Homosexual
Jiminy Cricket?

Iris says insults are
a sign of weakness.

They make talking blow-up dolls?

You're just jealous.

I can have any man I want.
Anytime I want.

Not that you understand the complexity

of female-male relationships...
or anything.

We are not cancelling this
debate and that's final.

It would be the death
of this campaign.

Larry...

You're absolutely right.

I am? He is?

And I need you to get my
black suit from the cleaners.

You got it, Councillor.

You better sober up

if you're going to
go through with this.

This is Richard Fitzpatrick.

I have to cancel that thing today...

the debate.

Why?

Because my sister's dead.
Genius.

How did she die? Horribly.

Thank you. Sir.
Thank you very much.

We better find that bitch.

Once again, a politician hides
behind liberal buzzwords

like "mental illness"
and "family tragedy".

What the fuck?

This time, it's freshman
candidate Richard Fitzpatrick

dropping out of today's debate

"to mourn" the alleged
suicide of his sister Meghan.

What the fuck?

Inevitable? Probably.

Sad? Not particularly.

But one thing is certain:

Richard Fitzpatrick owes the people

of Coverton one debate.

Oh.

And rest in peace, Meghan.

What the fuck?

This is Melody Gray, reporting.

That's terrible.

I know.

Fitzpatrick's popularity
is going to skyrocket.

Okay.

Thinking caps on.

What trumps "dead sister?"

Like deaf sister.

Or who do we know with AIDS?

Chester, I can't believe we're
having this conversation.

I'm not saying anyone has to die.

How far along are we again?

Chester!

But everyone loves premature babies.

They're little bundles of hope.

Real little fighters.

I feel like I can't say
anything to you these days!

Yeah.

Black... Red...

Where is my leaking
haemorrhoid of a brother?

Haven't seen him.

He's too busy running around

being Big Shot Politician

to hang out with his old buddy Josh.

Cry me a fucking river.

Apparently I'm dead.

It was all over the news.

Do I look dead to you?
Do I? Do I?

You kinda smell dead.

Asshole.

Tell Dick I'm looking for him.

No. Don't tell him.

I'll find him myself.

So if you're not dead...

You must be the...

undead.

Fucking stoner.

Joint!

Oh I've missed you so much.

How many sisters have to die

before a man can get
a drink around here?

Richard, I came as soon
as I heard the news.

I'm so sorry.

All right, you overgrown abortion.

What the fuck did you do?

Your daughter is dead,
and that's your response?

She's not dead, you little shit.

Elaine?

Look who decided to drop in.

If there was ever a time
to set your anger aside,

that time is now.

Go stick your dick in a toaster.

I can smell a con a mile off...

and I want my cut.

Of course you do.

Because that's all you care about.

Are you still harping on
that abandoned child shtick?

You've had - what?
Twenty years to get over it.

More like twenty-nine
years, mom.

See? Plenty of time!

You always were lazy.

So, how did she die?

You do it yourself?

Uh... well.

I knew it was a con.

Lazy and a bad liar.

And you wonder why I left.

How dare you?

Your son is clearly shaken.

The medical examiner is calling it

an... overdose.

Downed a bottle of tranquilizers

like it was candy.

Meghan can't swallow pills.

She chokes like a cat on a hairball.

I always told her:

"You'll never keep a husband

with that gag reflex."

I don't know which is worse,

the fact that you think I'm lying,

or that you don't care that
your own daughter is dead.

Well, someone in this family

has to give a shit about Meghan.

I guess it's up to me
to give that shit.

I give a shit.

The funeral is Tuesday.

You can see for yourselves.

You buying that bullshit?

All you have to do is go away
and pretend to be dead.

For how long?

A couple of days.

Is that too much to fucking ask?

My family is so fucking selfish.

Saul disappears with
my son because I'm-

"An incompetent caregiver".

Dad only wants me to be his front

for his new dealership.

You tell people I'm dead
for your stupid campaign

and the only thing
mom ever cared about

was stupid cigarettes.

Yeah, you're right.

Throwing a funeral
would be a bad idea.

All those people missing you.

Talking about how great you are.

Were.

You'd never do that.

Yeah...

It was going to be a great funeral.

With... like flowers?

Lots of flowers. A few flowers.

And a new dress?

Fuck. Fine.

Yes, a new dress.

It would teach everyone a lesson

about taking me for granted.

And think of all that
sympathy for you...

and a certain freshman candidate

who wants to shake up the status quo.

And everyone will be
emotionally vulnerable.

Who needs internet dating
when you have funerals.

Yeah -

it would be great.

But what happens when everyone
finds out I'm still alive?

By then I'll be in office
and it's too late.

Besides, Politicians go back
on their word all the time.

"I am not a crook";

"I didn't have sexual
relations with that woman."

It's no different from "I didn't know"

my sister wasn't really dead."

I want it to be open casket.

I want to be able to
hear everyone crying

and talking about how they miss me.

I want the coffin to be oak.

And it has to be lined with silk...

It would be easier to just kill her.

Don't fucking tempt me.

And you can't hold it at the DUI.

God, you are so fucking cheap.

The dealership? Really?

You couldn't at least
rent a community center?

Nobody would believe

that I'd waste any more money
on you than I'd have to.

I suppose... but still...

I had to have my wedding here.

So many memories.

Will you get in the fucking box

before Larry or somebody important

sees that you're not dead?

Here.

I wrote a poem for the eulogy.

It's going to make everyone
so sad they'll puke.

I think the guest of honour
deserves a glass of champagne.

Champagne.

Now I really am a princess.

A dead one.

But still a princess.

To me.

The bubbles tickle my nose.

Hey, why aren't you drinking...

Son of a bitch. What's in this?

Just a little something
to ensure you stay still

during the funeral.

Not again.

Mother...

fuckers.

Get her feet.

I did not approve this funeral.

He still owns 30 percent
of the dealership.

At least we can take advantage

of the heathen grief
to sell the Mazda.

You are exceedingly insensitive.

I guess that pile of
shit with a pompadour

was telling the truth.

Hard to believe she's dead.

Hard to believe she's quiet.

Show some fucking respect.

A little late to
give a shit, isn't it?

Thank you for being here.

Vote for Fitz.

I appreciate the support.

Show your support.

It means so much.

He needs you now more than ever.

Very appreciated.

Don't forget to vote.

Look at them all feeling sorry for me.

Black suits you.

Could we have one conversation
where you don't hit on me?

Nope.

Look, I'm really sorry
about your sister.

She was... she was so...

Yeah.

Anyway, when you get a minute,
we need to talk.

Richard...

Yeah.

It's good to see you, I guess.

How are you holding up?

I'm gettin' through it...

guy.

And you are...

Still trying to process the news.

I think I'm in denial.

I never thought this day would come.

Yeah.

Mmm.

Well built. No Ring. Hair. Dibs.

Keep it in your pants, Red.

This is supposed to be a funeral.

Look who's talking.

Would it hurt you to shed a few tears?

Fitzpatricks don't have tear ducts.

Ask my doctor.

Richard...

I'm here for you.

If you need anything.

I could use a hug.

You could? You could?

Yeah...

Get the photographer.

It's tragedies like
the loss of a loved one,

even Meghan,

that lead to self-reflection,

and personal growth.

Richard Fitzpatrick, get ready...

it's coming for you.

Got it, thanks.

Ha! Ya!

Josh...

Whoa, man!

I am wondering if you can assist

an emotional but not
biological brother.

Little busy here, Buddy.

But do you have any more
of that intoxicating herb?

Meghan's death is affecting
me more than I thought -

because it is affecting me -

and I need something
to take the edge off.

You silly, naive little brown man.

This...
this is all you're gonna need.

Take it!

You kill the brain and
you kill the ghoul.

You got it? It's go time buddy.

Operation Blackout.

It must have been a top
secret government experiment.

The resurrection of the dead.

It's the only explanation.

Zombies.

Zombies.

Please, I don't have time for
your immature foolishness.

I need to get high.

Save the last bullet for yourself.

For yourself.

Here you go. Almost fresh.

I'm looking for my smokes, dipshit.

Champagne?

Thanks, no. I don't drink.

Not anymore.

So what do you do?

I just want to be up front with you.

I haven't dated since my divorce.

Oh... I'll be gentle.

Oh, my little girl.

My poor little princess.

It is so odd to see her
without her mouth moving.

She looks like a ventriloquist doll.

I have decided I will miss her.

She was a tigress in bed.

Yes, a gentle tigress.

With an insatiable appetite.

An insatiable appetite for cuddling...

I will give you a moment.

Allahu akbar!

Zombie!

So, you enjoying the funeral?

Cut the small talk, toots.

We both know why you're here.

I seriously doubt you have any clue.

You signed my nomination form.

Been following me around
like a lost puppy.

Admit it, you want me to win.

Fitz, I am here to pay my respects.

To something that's been on my mind

for the last... 30 weeks now.

Do you get me?

Okay, Fitz...

you're the...

you are the...

I'm the what?

You're the bravest
man I know to push on

with the election campaign
despite this tragedy.

Chester? What the hell?

Although, none of us
are strangers to tragedy.

This is low. Even for you.

How dare you mock my acute case

of Guillain-Barré Syndrome?

A disease I probably picked up

volunteering at the soup kitchen.

Rosanne Barr syndrome my ass.

It's a good thing
he brought that wheelchair.

He's going to need it.

Richard, no.

You need to grieve.

I'll handle this.

Trying to exploit our sympathy

for his own petty political gain.

The nerve...

Couldn't agree more.

Where did those goddamn cigarettes go?

Cut the act.

This is my last one.

Sure it is.

One thing the little retard
was always good for.

Going to the store for smokes.

That's because she stole the change.

That crafty little bitch.

She must have got it from her mother.

All right, one-nut.

What's your angle?

I've seen the way you've been
eyeball fucking me all day.

No angle.

A proposal.

Forget it.

I don't want to park
my shoes under your bed.

We both know we're like oil

and whatever that shit is
that oil won't mix with.

Then what?

What's the one thing we were
always good at together?

Rape fantasies.

And slinging tin.

A new dealership? You and me?

Just like the old days.

Well, I'd consider it.

As soon as you apologize.

For what?

Let's start with our
whole fucking marriage

and take it from there.

I knew you'd be a cock
crunching shrew about this.

Fuck that.

A Fitzpatrick never apologizes.

I'm sorry, but that's
just the way it is.

Then we've got nothing
left to talk about.

Fuck.

The mental health apple
never falls far from the tree.

So, if his sister killed herself,

who's to say Fitzpatrick
isn't just as unstable.

Okay...

So you're saying we can't risk
a madman on city council.

Exactly.

Then just say it.

We... can't risk a madman
on city council.

Beautiful.

Fascinating.

Would you excuse us for a moment?

This is off the record.

Of course.

I think I have proven

I will tolerate many
things, Chester Vince.

Many, many things.

But co-opting this
family's funeral

to further your political aspirations?

Not one of them.

Oh really?

I asked around the police station,

and no one remembers a
911 call for a suicide.

How dare you defile the memory
of Richard's dear sister.

Okay! It's time to go.

Oh, no, no!

You're not going anywhere.

Not until that casket is in the ground

and you apologize for doubting
the deep feelings of sadness

this family is experiencing right now.

It's a free country, Larry.
Let them go.

No, Richard.

Chester Vince accused you of
staging this whole funeral

to elicit voter sympathy.

We're going to make
him eat those words.

At the graveyard when
we bury Meghan Fitzpatrick.

I can't wait.

All right, let's go.

Nice work, Larry.

I've always got your back, buddy.

Oh, you've got a -

Get your fuckin' hands off me.

Trouble? Depends.

How much air do you
think this coffin holds?

Don't worry.

She'll wake up long
before the air runs out.

Fuck!

Hey everyone, could we hurry
the fuck up to the graveyard?

This corpse isn't gonna bury itself.

Ha! Okay, here we go, let's go.

Let's go, guys...

And it sure as shit ain't gonna rise.

Meghan wrote this before she died.

Fuck.

Dear Richard, I'll make this brief.

I just want to take a second
to say how wonderful it is

that you all turned out
to support my brother.

It's a touching gesture
in a time of need,

and when he is elected-

I've got something to say.

Son of a bitch, can't it wait?

Fuck off.

Elaine.

We've had our ups and downs.

But if there's one person
I want in my corner, it's you.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

So if it takes an apology

to get you back in business with me,

then Elaine-

Richard, here it comes...

emotional growth...

I am sorry.

Yeah, I'm not feeling it.

I'm sorry you're a filthy lying whore!

And there it goes.

You know what I've been through?

I can't believe you'd stoop so low.

I have an election to win.

And I need your help.

Try thinking about someone
besides yourself for a change.

That's all I've been doing
for the last 30 weeks.

You could have fooled me.

Oh, really? Watch me.

Now, if I may continue... Fitz!

Chester, I'm leaving you!

And I'm sorry for your loss.

Ali-bear?

Wait!

You faked an illness to get sympathy?

What kind of monster would do that?

Why is it so dark in here?

Fitz! Hurry up!

So, in conclusion,

and in light of Chester
Vince being retarded

and not handicapped, Vote Fitz!

Now let's get to the wake.
First round's on Larry.

You motherfucker!
You never read my poem!

You're alive?

Fucking right I am.

Get mommy some smokes.

Fuck you!

Motherfucking assholes.

Saul?

You brought a date to your
ex-wife's fucking funeral?

You ruined my life.

You slept with her?

Hey...

I drank a 3 into a 7 and
woke up married, okay?

You, get away from him!

Die, zombie fiend.

Zombie! She must die!

Again.

You shot me!

Oh my God!

Try again! Try again!

What does a woman
have to do around here

to get a cigarette?

Are you in?

Fine.

Fuck it!

You faked your sister's death
to get votes?

Oh, Richard.

What do you have to say for
yourself, Mr. Fitzpatrick?

My sister's alive.

It's... a miracle!

Sync & corrections by Monkeymann