Kidding (2018–…): Season 2, Episode 3 - I'm Listening - full transcript

Jeff has an idea for how he can speak directly to the children of the world while Seb hands over the reins of the Pickle empire to Deirdre. After finding a book of magic spells, Will finds himself face to face with the past.

Previously on Kidding...

He needs a new liver,
or it will fail.

- De-liver me.
- We're getting a divorce.

When Phil died,

- did you donate his organs?
- No.

I am listening.

Listening to the demand
for a follow-up toy

like Play-With-Me Pickles.

Puppet Time will be
back on the air

within six months.

You have my word.



You're fired.

Hello, Pickle Pals.

It's so good to see you today.

It's so good to see you
every day.

What do you see?

Do you see my couch
and my room?

Do you see the sky
outside my window?

What else do you see?

Soap Scum!

Purple is the color of kings.

Let's take a trip
to Pickle Barrel Falls.

♪ What do you do? ♪

♪ What do you do? ♪

♪ Don't be afraid
when you don't know ♪



Whistling is easy.

I'll always be here for you,
my friends.

Always.

If you've tuned in
for Mr. Pickles' Puppet Time,

we're sorry, kids,

he's not here right now.

But I am, with Columbus'
top news magazine.

Where'd you go?

Dr. Devin to dialysis.

Dr. Devin to dialysis.

There's four more bins
at the nurses' station.

But we didn't want
to overwhelm you with fan mail.

Fans are for pop stars.

We call it friend mail.

And you can never have
too many friends.

Wherever you're going,

you shouldn't be
walking there without me.

Did Peter get
my oversized lollipop?

Yes.

I should go talk to him.

I don't think your wife
wants that to happen.

What makes you say that?

Because she said she doesn't
want that to happen.

He wants to talk to you,
though.

They all do.

Dear Mr. Pickles,

first of all, merry Christmas
and a happy New Year.

Dear Mr. Pickles,
what do you do

when you feel like no one
wants to be your friend?

Dear Mr. Pickles,
how do you spell "raisin"

Is this how you spell raisin?

Dear Jeff,

it's Peter, the guy you hit
with your car.

I got your lollipop.

I really want to talk
with you,

but I don't see Jill
letting that happen.

Hi, Mr. Pickles,
I'm Judy.

You have been with me
in every foster home

I've ever lived at
in my whole, entire life.

But you're not at my new one.

I checked every channel.

Guess I just wanted
to let you know I miss you.

P.S. I know you don't have

a TV show anymore,

but please figure out a way
to come back.

I hear the pain

of my fellow man.

I'm sorry, I...

I thought I was alone.

What's your trouble?

I've been told
I'm a good listener

because I bleed when I talk.

Go ahead.

I'm only ears.

I have too many friends.

Well,
I don't have any friends.

I used to trust everyone.

Now I see the world
for what it is:

an airport motel room

where people line up
to fuck you in the throat.

Wow, I'm...

truly sorry for...

whatever happened to you.

That's okay.

Please, continue.

My friends need me.

I don't know how to talk
to them all.

It's like someone's...

taken away my voice.

I know how you feel.

I know exactly
how to fix it.

But it's gonna invite
a lot of controversy.

It's gonna make some people
not like me.

Not everyone has to be
your friend.

Do you know how we know
Jesus was a real person?

Because people didn't like him.

He had enemies.

If everyone has something nice
to say about you,

history questions
your very existence.

Do you have enemies?

Every champion has enemies.

I want the piano.

- You don't play the piano.
- I'm gonna take lessons.

I know some guy who gives 'em.

You're going to learn
an instrument to spite me?

No, I'm gonna learn
an instrument to break you.

Well, I want full custody
of our daughter.

What?

You are completely unfit
to be a mother.

And if you'd like,
I can throw up

an alphabet of exhibits
in front of a judge

to back up that sentiment.

Well, I have an alphabet
of hand jobs.

So let's not go down
that road.

I'm not going to abandon
my kid.

We agreed,
split everything 50-50.

Do you know what
a forensic accountant is?

No, I do not.

Okay, well,
I hired one to go

through our bank accounts
to find out what's what

and what's mine
and what's yours,

and he found something
he called odd

but I call curious

and the IRS would call
illegal.

My books are clean.

Every year, you donate hundreds
of thousands of dollars

to a charity called

the Indica School for Girls.

I poured my heart and soul
into that institution.

But there is no
Indica School for Girls.

And while we're at it,

there's no
Sativa School for Sluts

or Heroin High School
for Horses.

There's just receipts
from hotels in Belize

and poolside omelets!

I built a real school
for real girls.

It's just...

in the woods,
and there's no phone.

- And what's their mascot?
- The Dinosaurs.

The Indica School for Girls
Dinosaurs.

Yes.
Los Dinos.

Well, I don't Belize you.

You've been pocketing
that cash.

And in exchange
for not telling the feds

that you started
a fake charity,

I want full custody of Maddy!

Well, I'm not prepared
to accept that offer.

Well, then eat a dick.

You eat a fucking dick.

I'm not angry
that you fired me.

I had two important jobs,

and I forgot the one
about being your father.

I've chosen to take this
quasi-homicidal incident

with, um...

what is that unfortunate man's
name again?

- Peter?
- Peter, yes,

as confirmation
of all this.

I'm stepping away
from the business.

I won't put up a fight.

It's your show now,
and I'm just your dad.

Great.

Because I have
a wonderful idea.

Oh.
Tell me about it.

Picture me in every
child's room...

- Mm-hmm.
- 24-7.

Oh.

Forget Talk-To-Me Pickles.

We're gonna build
Listen-To-Me Pickles.

See, it's got
a microchip inside it

so kids can talk to me

and I can talk to them,

instantly, over the airwaves.

Well, it's aggressive.

I even have a tagline
for the box:

"Jeff Pickles is always
listening to you."

Uh-huh.

They're already going to sleep
with the doll in their arms.

Now I get to wish them
good night.

Mm.

I want eight inches of me

in every child's bed.

Now, I understand there may be
some skeptics out there...

privacy issues and all.

But social media
is a brain cancer.

This is our way around it.

I'll, uh, call
my contact at Toyco.

We'll see what she thinks.

That's okay.

I should call her.

Right. Um...

will you do me a favor?

Um, your sister needs you.

She's going through a divorce.

Will you stay with her
for a bit?

I mean, you don't want
to convalesce

in your sad little hovel,
do you?

I like my apartment.

Please, just till she gets
on her feet.

I'm asking you,
as the father.

Huh?

- Do me a favor.
- Anything.

Hi, how are you?

Whatever you need.

- Your brother needs you.
- Oh.

He's going
through his divorce.

I feel it would be
a good idea

if he moved in with you,

just till he gets
back on his feet.

Oh, where is Jeff?

Inching his way
up the driveway.

Does he need help or...

Can you help me
with this little favor?

Yes!
Deirdre is here to help.

Are you okay?

Do you hear a helicopter?

No.

I'd like you to do me
another favor.

Done.

You don't know what it is yet.

I'm sure when I hear it,

I'll dig it all the way
to China.

I want you...

to take over the business.

I'm retiring.

I'm tired.

It's time for this
old sailor to...

I thought Jeff fired you.

Does it matter
whose idea it was?

Are you sure he's okay?

Yes.

He's almost
at the planters.

Oh.

I know you're going to say

that you have no experience
with things like this.

But I believe in you.

I'm in.
I got it.

The most important thing
is to gently but firmly...

sit on your brother's
worst impulses.

Mm, mm-hmm.

- Did he tell you my idea?
- No, what?

I want to create
a Wi-Fi-connected doll

that lets me talk
to America's children

completely unsupervised.

I love it.
I fucking love it!

As your friend
and your realtor,

I'm afraid I have
to advise you strongly

not to put this place
on the market right now.

When I purchased this house,

I imagined living
in a mirror image

of my former home
would be therapeutic,

healing.

Instead, it just made me yearn
for a past I couldn't revive...

promised me a future
double-dipped in melancholy.

A two-story coffin.

A shadowed canyon
where memories echo

off the vinyl siding...

and crash silently
into the void.

You seem motivated.

Let me draw up the paperwork.

We can have this up on Zillow
by the end of the week.

You do that, Joanne.

Peter?

I'm glad you're here.

- What's this?
- Do you have a pen?

I always have a pen,

It's not for me.
It's for you.

No.

Don't try to talk to him.
Don't apologize.

Don't do that thing
where you sow hate

and it blooms into love.

Nobody wants that right now.

- Peter might.
- Have you been talking to him?

- Do you guys talk somehow?
- No.

Why?

Nothing.
Never mind.

Did he tell you about
a song we did together?

Don't squeeze it,
don't squash it,

contain, or kibosh it!

No.

What about closure?

That's what I'm trying
to give you.

This is something you should
have signed a long time ago.

There are 16 years of magic
in this envelope.

Don't romanticize
the envelope.

We should have a ceremony,
don't you think?

Mm-mm.

Commemorate the end
of our relationship

the way we commemorated
the beginning of it?

I'm not inviting 150 people
and 11 puppets

to a sit-down dinner
to watch us get a divorce.

How do we tell
the Dalai Lama?

He has his own problems,

like China, for instance.

I'm just gonna
read it over.

Why?
It's already agreed to.

- Just sign it.
- I know. I know.

Get it over with.

I'm not arguing
with you. I just...

You are arguing
with me.

I just want to make sure
we're doing our due diligence.

We already did
our due diligence.

We paid the lawyer so much
money for due diligence.

Did do
our due diligence, though?

I don't know.

Jeff, I'm so confused.

"Begin by closing your eyes

and seeing the moment in time
you'd like to return to."

Got it.

Now surround yourself
with the past.

Maybe put them
on his bed.

Now what?

"That was the easy part.

This trick, if you can
call it a trick,

is incredibly difficult
to pull off.

It all depends on one thing."

What's the one thing?

It's...

Whoa!

Oh!

Fucking shit tits.

Yikes, you think
he found my stash?

What stash?

How'd you know
this door was here?

Whenever I go
into a new home,

I always search
for the smallest door.

Every house has an elf
that lives in its walls

and controls the heat,
air-conditioning,

and karmic flow.

I was cold,
so I figured,

find the smallest door,

find the elf,
leave a token of friendship,

adjust the humidity.

Dude.
Fuck your Icelandic parents.

He gets time travel,

but I can't have my fucking
sprites and wall nymphs?

This house and my house
are identical.

So if there's a little door

in the back of this closet...

then...

Sorry I'm here so early.

Not a problem.
I'll let them know.

I wanted
to make sure we cleared out

all the Play-With-Me Pickles
before he got here.

My niece's
first grade teacher

saw me give her a prototype.

I almost got arrested.

I love his
web-connected doll idea.

It's like Willy Wonka reaching
through your television.

I agree; I think
it's the future

of letting someone else
raise your kid.

Sally said
you were in here.

- They said you weren't coming.
- I'm not. I'm not here.

I never was.
Listen.

I've changed my mind
about the dick with shoes.

I think that's the one
we go with.

The team's pretty ecstatic
about the Listen-To-Me Pickles.

It listens.

It's ludicrously unsafe

to give Jeff that kind
of unfettered reach.

Dad,
it would be dishonest to say

I can't hear and see you.

You need to let go.

You need to think
this through, Jeff.

What if a child calls you
on that thing

and threatens
to kill themselves?

Then I'll be there
to help.

All right.

What if a parent calls

and wants to kill you?

Let them.

Your Christmas speech
knocked us off the air.

A toy like this will knock us
off the shelves.

Then what are we?

Double-tapped in the sternum

and triple-fucked
in the face.

We're gonna be
back on the air soon.

The show's never coming back
on the air, Jeff, believe me.

I've made the calls.

It's cold out there now that
people think you have opinions.

Deirdre's gonna get it done.

Deirdre glues felt

to other felt.

She's not leading anyone
to Jerusalem.

Then why put her in charge?

She's not in charge.

She thinks she's in charge.

As long as I'm alive,

I'm in charge.

Jeff, this is my one job.

This is all I have.

And you can't make me exit
stage left pursued by a bear.

Do you remember...

when I was a child...

and I shot you in the face?

Yes.

Where are you going
with that?

You should retire.

I'm listening to you.

What are you making?

It's a doll
that listens to people.

How does it listen?

Through a microphone
in your room.

Mr. Chompers
is a good listener.

Who's Mr. Chompers?

Oh!

Uh...

Why does he have teeth?

Mr. Chompers
pre-chews my meat.

Will your doll
pre-chew meat?

There's too much
being asked of me.

I can't do these things
they're asking me to do.

Who's they?

She has a glue problem.

Could you head upstairs?

And please stop dragging
your ax on the floor.

I like the sound it makes.

I can't, Jeff.

I can't.

I can't.

I don't trust myself,

not as a single mom

and not as someone
running the show.

I can't even run a household.

How can I possibly run
a corporation?

I can't do anything.
I don't know how.

That's not true.

You built an orphanage
in Belize.

There's no orphanage.
I'm a liar.

Then who have you been writing
checks to every Christmas?

Me!

Me, myself, my tan.

And now I have six weeks
to build a school,

or I have to write
a $600,000 check

to some stupid charity
so the IRS won't pummel me!

I have total faith.

You're gonna put Puppet Time
back on the air.

Not Dad.
You.

I don't even like the show.

It's stale,

and your pants don't fit,

and there's not nearly
enough music,

and your hair, your hair...

I don't like your hair!

I never have!

Please don't put me in charge.

You can't trust me.
I can't even trust me.

Glue problem.

I do not have
a glue problem!

God... damn it!

I'm sorry for not liking
your hair.

I trust you
more than anyone.

Are you sure?

Oh, oh, oh...

Oh!

- Oh!
- Oh!

Ha!

What do you think?

Oh...

I thought I'd miss him,
but I don't.

I'm going to get the show
back on the air.

I know you are.

Can I help you?

- Uh...
- James!

Hello?

Your hat is purple.

I love the color purple.

- Are you...
- Sorry.

I have to go now.

I'm wrapping
a Christmas present.

Christmas was two weeks ago.

I know.

Good-bye, purple hat.

My sorrys!

Uh...

Do you remember me?

Your brother,
he got shot.

- My sorrys.
- No, he got hit by...

Do you believe
you could turn back time?

I do not believe
one can turn back time.

That's absurd.

The past cannot sit
on top of the past.

A memory cannot live
inside a memory.

But by the same logic,
I do think

it's probably easier
to travel forwards in time,

where everything is new
and nothing is recycled.

Like, my whole life,
I've been thinking

about having my license,

and then one day, I'm just
going to have my license.

You know?

Wanna come in?

Wanna stay here?

You talk.
I'll listen.

I'll really listen.

Move it, shit face!

Fuck you, midget dick!

Hello?
Mr. Pickles?

Hi, Judy.

It's me.

Is it really you,
Mr. Pickles?

It's really me, Judy.

Where are you?

I'm right here.

And I'll be here for you
every day,

in the morning
when you wake up

and at night
when you go to sleep.

No matter where you are
in the world,

no matter what roof
you're under,

I'll be with you.

Thanks.
I'm going to go to sleep now.

But I'll see you
when I wake up.

♪ Good night, good night,
good night ♪

♪ The moon smiles down
so bright ♪

♪ The evening star ♪

♪ That shines from far ♪

♪ Now blinks
its twinkling light ♪

♪ The time for sleep is near ♪

Happy retirement!

♪ The air
is calm and clear ♪

♪ The evening sky ♪

♪ The moon and I ♪

♪ Will always be right here ♪

♪ As sure as sun ♪

♪ Will rise ♪

♪ And day will break ♪

♪ The skies ♪

♪ May all our scars burn up ♪

♪ Like stars ♪

♪ Now time to close ♪

♪ Your eyes ♪

Good night.

I missed you,
Mr. Pickles.

Good night, Mr. Pickles.

I'm so glad you're back,
Mr. Pickles.

The Oops
is my favorite.

I'm assuming
you can hear me.

This is not the product
I thought it was.

Please, don't fucking talk
to my child about me.

That's fucked up.

What the fuck is wrong
with you?