Shameless (2011–…): Season 8, Episode 7 - Occupy Fiona - full transcript

Oh, for Christ sake.

I don't have time for this. I'm busy, okay?

Just run the damn thing

so these idiots can see
what they missed last week.

Fifth DUI... I mean, how
does that even happen?

Ask me again when you're 60.

His sobriety isn't yours.

This co-dependent shit's
gonna drag you down too.

Look, if Brad can't make it,
how am I supposed to, huh?

Nobody fucks with a vet on my watch.

Oh! What the fuck?

Ah! Who are you?

I'm your worst fucking nightmare.

You cleaned me up in five days.

Here. It's five grand.

You like to be dominated.

Dominated? Have you met me?

I'm yours to command.

Just tell me... how to dominate you.

I think you're missing the point, babe.

- I'm here to let you go too.
- What did I do wrong?

Nothing at all.
You were the model employee.

Dress for the job you want,

not for the job you have.

Why should I sacrifice
everything I've worked for

just so they can move into that building?

Because they're helpless and you're not!

I promised those kids that church, Fiona.

- I am not tearing it away...
- Find another fucking church!

What the fuck?

- Morning.
- No!

I am not doing this with you again today.

We are both fucking adults.

Come on, I know you're
pissed. I know you're pissed...

Oh, fuck!

Think we should do something?

She survived prison.

She can handle the Ice Bucket Challenge.

He's been icing her all week.

Over a stupid church?

Who cares?

He does.

- So we shouldn't do anything?
- Absolutely not.

Squabbles between siblings
are as old as time.

Cain and Abel.

Serena and Venus.

George W. and Jeb.

Hey, son, what do you say you, uh,

iron some military creases
into my suit jacket?

Need sharp corners today.
Daddy's got a big job interview.

With Lumber Lot.

Thought you already worked at Lumber Lot.

No, that's Lumber Lawn and Lighting, Debs,

an entirely separate
and sub-par institution

from whence I have parted ways.

Wait. You got fired?

I did not get fired.

Livestock's been fed and watered, sir.

Permission to attend last day of school?

- Permission granted.
- Jesus, Carl.

Your involuntary detox program
is stinking up the whole house.

It smells like afterbirth down there.

I still need $3,527 for tuition.

Look at you!

The managerial apple is
falling close to the tree.

Mornin'.

Let's go, Liam.

Before he pours pathetic sauce all over us.

Have a good last day, Liam.

Good luck at Lumber Lot, Frank.

No luck needed, Debs.

Oh, God!

Jesus! Get it together, loser.

No one wants to see a grown
man ugly-cry in his underwear.

- Idiot!
- God.

Kev, we're out of toilet
paper. Can you get some today?

Yeah, sure, no problem.

Hey, is this the thing
you were talking about,

with wanting to be dominated?
'Cause it looks painful.

I mean, look at the guy
with the pole up his ass.

He's sad in his eyes.

You really think you should
be watching Triple-X Hardcore

with the girls?

I have the volume on mute.

I just want to feel a tiny bit controlled.

You telling me what to do.

You be in charge instead
of me being in charge.

- Is that so hard?
- No, it's just, you know...

We haven't had spicy...
salsa since the girls.

Mm, all the more reason to caliente it up.

Okay, so what do you want me to do?

Buy some props, some leather, or what?

I don't know, Kev.

You be in charge.

All right, fine.

I'll see you later today.

Or maybe I won't.

I'm being mysterious.

I'm late.

Oh. Love you.

Love you. And you.

Love you, love you.

Oh, hey. Hey, why aren't you dressed?

I forgot her birthday.

What? Come on, get up. We
have court today. Come on.

It's Cami's birthday, look.

I'd forgotten till I saw it on Facebook.

I'm a piece of shit!

Okay, look, we're gonna take this

one step at a time, all right?

First, you shower. Then, deodorant.

And then we're gonna...
send her some nice flowers.

She hates flowers.

Cupcakes then, whatever!

We gotta go to court now. Come on.

I-I gotta go to Zales.

I gotta get a charm for her bracelet.

And I gotta go home.

Well, no, you're not allowed to go home.

Where the fuck's my wallet?

You don't have one.

Y-you lost it.

Oh, shit!

God damn it!

Look, hey, I will take you to Zales,

but after court.

Okay.

Good, right now, we gotta go.

There you go.

I will now begin intake.

When I get to you, state your name

and your parents' net worth

in a loud and clear voice.

You first.

Something funny?

- What is your name?
- Go fuck yourself.

What drug are you on?

Go fuck your mama.

What's the level of pain in your leg?

Zero. I like it.

Youens. Look, we're at Patsy's.

All right, where you're supposed to be,

just... Pick up.

Hey.

Yo, Brad. Come on, you
gotta eat. All right?

Poor Cami.

Fuckin', you imagine?

I'm a rabid dog.

Just take me to a field and shoot me.

All right, look, let's practice
what you're gonna say when

they ask if you've seen Youens
at AA meetings, all right?

I-I told you, I'm not gonna lie.

Yeah, I'm not asking you to lie.

AA's about honesty.

I'm not gonna lie about attendance.

Look, you've seen him in a meeting.

One meeting. Once. For ten seconds.

Then it's not a lie.

You guys want more coffee?

Yeah, thank you.

Have you seen Youens?

He was supposed to meet us here

before his court date.

Nope. Haven't seen him.

I feel like I'm herding
cats with these two.

Yeah.

You okay?

Yeah, sorry, just... stuff.

Want to talk about it?

Nah, it's fucked up.

Shit.

Bob says Youens is still at home.

Come on. Hey, uh, how much I owe you?

- Go. Settle up later.
- You sure?

- Mm-hmm.
- Thank you.

Come on, Brad.

Hey, Brad, come on, all right?

A no-call, no-show on a weekend?

You fucked me, Debbie Gallagher.

I know, but the circumstances
were really beyond my control.

Of course I would have called
if I weren't in jail in Missouri.

It's the stupid Plan B state law's fault,

not mine.

Sorry.

No show, no job.

Please give me another
chance, Nadine, please.

I'm really sorry.

Fine. That was your final warning.

- You hear me?
- Totally, totally.

And be nicer to people.

They could park at Easy
Lot for 30 cents less.

Say "please" and "thank you."

I would be pleased to. Thank you.

I know what you're thinking.
And the answer's no.

That's not a typo.

I was promoted to assistant
manager that quickly.

Yeah, so why don't you let
me tell you a little bit

about how we do things here.

No need. I did my research.

Let's just cut to the chase.

What's this?

I'm worth it.

Mr. Gallagher, I don't make this much.

I've been here 38 years.

Well, I started the negotiations high, yes.

But I would be a store manager too

if the internet hadn't
fucked us up the ass.

Even if you were remotely qualified,

I don't have anything in
management to offer you.

You ad said "all levels."

"All levels welcome to apply."

But the only shift I
have open is graveyard.

- Minimum wage...
- I was Employee of the Month.

Do these accolades mean nothing?

Not really.

Offer declined.

This collar is white.

I'll take my talents elsewhere.

I read about it online.

You put a bag of lemons
into a ceramic bowl,

and bam, rent goes up like 100 bucks.

Hipster catnip.

Lemons? I would have thought we hipsters

would be into figs, or,
like, pamplemousse LaCroix.

Nope, lemons in a damn bowl is all it takes

for you guys to want to be rent-raped.

Well, lemons or not, I'm not
sure you can ask 1,100 bucks

for an apartment with a janky pocket door.

This is officially stuck.

Can't we just rip it out?

I don't know. It's in there good.

But I know an Irish guy
that does wood stuff.

You want me to see if he's around?

Yeah, that'd be great. Thanks.

I think your brother's egging you.

Don't make eye contact.
It'll just encourage him.

Is this still about the church?

- Uh-huh.
- Jesus.

Someone needs a hobby.

Yeah, well, forgiveness

is not exactly a Gallagher trait.

Damn.

Aren't you gonna yell at him or something?

I am not. You know why?

Because I am a 28-year-old grown-ass woman.

And I'm not a childish little shit

with a history of psycho behavior

and deep reservoirs of unfounded rage!

Oh, they have spray paint cans now.

Yeah, they're spray-painting your sidewalk.

Youens!

Oh, Jesus Christ.

What the fuck are you
doing? You have court today.

- Shit... fuck!
- I'm not going.

Come on, get up.

All right, we gotta get you in the shower.

I'm going to fucking jail today.

Everyone knows it but you.

There's a big fucking difference

between three months in county

and... and ten years
in the state pen, right?

Leave me alone.

Brad, come on, help me get him.

- Shit.
- Come on.

Ah, shit.

- Come on.
- Where we taking him?

Right over here.

_

Gotta admit, it's catchy.

"Thundercunt," "Cuntlord."

I'm starting to detect a pattern there.

Hey!

Vandalism.

Now you're trespassing on a vacant lot.

No, it's not a vacant lot.

A sweet old lady named Connie Rupp owns it

and has granted me temporary occupancy

for, uh, $11.

Now, I'm allowed to express
myself on my property,

as are my guests.

Well, the sidewalk belongs to the city.

It's not your property.

Oh, great. Over here!

- Yeah, this way, guys!
- What is this?

Well, you stole the possibility

of them having a new home away from them.

They gotta pitch their tents somewhere.

Thankfully, I have access
to a very large lot.

Where should we set up the kitchen tent

and dig the latrine?

Uh, kitchen there.

Latrine there, as close to
the property line as possible.

Look, I get it, okay? Believe me.

I am aware that you're pissed.

But you can't just build
a homeless tent city here.

I have an open house
and prospective renters.

Closer. Dig the latrine closer.

She's only got a five-foot setback,

so get as close to the
property as possible.

I want her to smell our shit.

Good morning, sir, and how are you

on this fine day? May I
please have your ticket?

I owe you 4.89.

Okay, if you just give
me a moment to check that.

To check that?

You think you get to check my math?

I'm the head of Urology at St. Joe's.

You are a parking lot attendant

who probably didn't finish third grade.

Open the gate.

But... y...

Oh, my God!

You don't have to be a dick about it!

Dick!

- Ah...
- What?

- Cold, water cold.
- All right.

All right, hang on, I'm
gonna turn the hot on, okay?

There you go, there you go.

Hey where-where's your soap
and all your towels, huh?

There's no soap in here.

Who doesn't have soap and fucking towels?

All right, you hold on to him, okay?

And I'm gonna go get some bedsheets,

dry him off with those.

Grab my phone! In case Cami calls.

- It's on the bed.
- Yeah. Yeah-yeah-yeah.

Ow, hot! Now it's hot.

- All right, shit...
- Now it's hot.

- Ah.
- There you go, there you go.

Oh! Fuck!

What the fuck?

He fucking puked on me.

Now I'm gonna fucking puke
'cause he fucking puked on me.

Jesus!

Fuck this! I'm going home.

No, no, Brad! Youens!

All right, we don't
have time for this shit!

If we are late, if we do not show,

the judge is gonna slap you with

the maximum possible sentence, all right?

Brad, look at me, look at me. Hey.

Hey, you need to get out
of those puke clothes.

Okay? Go to Youens' closet.

Try to find something that fits.

This was my best suit.

I was gonna get married in this suit!

I don't care! Go, now!

Okay, listen to me.

Go get changed, please. All right?

And we will try to stop
by Cami's on our way.

- Really?
- Yes.

- But, Jesus Christ, go!
- Okay.

- Go! Go!
- Okay, okay!

Occupy Fiona!

Occupy Fiona!

Occupy Fiona!

Occupy Fiona!

- Occupy Fiona!
- Ian.

- Occupy Fiona!
- Ian.

- Occupy Fiona.
- Ian.

Occupy Fiona!

- What the hell's going on?
- What's it look like?

Fiona stole our building
to protect her precious

property value, so now we're
taking her property value

into our own hands.

So you're using my kids
to fight your sister?

No, they're angry about gentrification,

and I'm helping them channel their feelings

in positive, creative ways.

This seems like a family issue.

Should we try "Fuck you, Fiona"?

That's a good one.

Fuck you, Fiona!

Fuck you, Fiona!

- Fuck you, Fiona!
- Fuck you, Fiona!

- Fuck you, Fiona!
- Fuck you, Fiona!

Mr. Gallagher, I'm gonna
be straight with you.

I'm looking for someone with

three-to-five years management experience

and strong social media skills.

- Facebook for a flooring store?
- Absolutely.

Smith & Colin Flooring is a young company,

and we are serious about
increasing our online presence.

#OurPricesWillFloorYou.

Whoa.

Listen, Lexy...

I'm a quick study.

And I'd be willing to go down to

an associate or even an
assistant manager position

if the incentives are competitive.

Could you show me the prospectus

of the management stock options here?

I'm afraid with your r?sum?,
all I can show you is the door.

I'm sorry.

Look, it's never easy to say that.

Particularly not to someone who
reminds me of my grandpoppy Joe.

Kev?

You here?

Before we begin,

we must set a safe word.

It will be... "French fry."

Take off your clothes and
get on the bed on all fours.

Hurry.

Like this?

Silence!

Only I speak, which means you do not speak.

Heretofore.

Now, I will spank you with this paddle.

Because...

of no reason.

Now,

here it comes.

Spanking commenced,

you bad wife.

French fry. French fry.

Just a really quick "French fry."

V, I don't really want to hurt you,

but this could scar you.

It's not gonna scar.

Okay.

Okay, I can do this.

I can.

Now...

brace yourself for my wrath,

because it's paddle time.

French fry.

Hi. You must be Fred.

Sorry I'm late. Little,
uh, neighbor dispute.

- Ford.
- Oh, no, it's Fiona.

No, it's Ford. You called me Fred.

Oh. Right.

Uh... Ford. Sorry.

Anyway, uh, thanks for
coming on short notice.

Nessa said you might be able
to remove this piece of shit.

You want to take out
a 19th-century pocket door?

Yeah, so I can increase the rent.

Victorian cherry. Hand-applied carvings.

There's probably only three
or four dozen like this

left in all of Chicago.

Well, I'm looking at it... Ford...

And all I'm seeing is the broken armpit

in the middle of an
otherwise swank apartment.

So let's 86 it.

Fiona!

Fiona!

- Is!
- Is!

A cuntlord!

- A cuntlord!
- Excuse me.

- Fiona!
- Fiona!

- Is!
- Is!

- A cuntlord!
- A cuntlord!

- Fiona!
- Fiona!

- Is!
- Is!

- A cuntlord!
- A cuntlord!

I, uh, can't let you do this.

He's the one being an asshole.

The door. Can't let you toss it.

I'll fix it for you.

Let me, uh, go back to
the shop, get some of

my woodworking tools, and
then I'll be back, all right?

Whoa... w... how much
is that gonna cost me?

I'll just do it.

You're just gonna fix my door for free?

If that's all right with you?

I feel like this probably

looks kind of bad, because, you know,

usually only asshole landlords
get protested against,

but this is a bullshit family thing.

I wasn't...

I come from trash just like

everybody else in this neighborhood.

I raised five fucking kids

by myself.

Uh... siblings, not mine.

And did I get any thanks for it? No.

I try to protect my investment.

I try to take one tiny little step

up the economic ladder, and my own brother

tries to pull me back down

into the fucking shit with him.

But I am not going.

Okay? I'm done.

I'm gonna go get my tools now.

Hey.

- Hey.
- Are you kidding me?

- No, look, he... he just...
- Not until he's 30 days sober.

Look, he just wants to wish
you a happy birthday, Cami.

I don't want to hear
"happy birthday" from him.

All right, look, he...
he won't stop crying.

All right, and he has to testify in court

in support of my friend in a few minutes.

All right, and if you don't
give him a reason to live,

I'm afraid he's gonna
fuck it up for my friend,

and then my friend's
gonna go to jail forever.

All right, please, just let the man shout

"happy birthday" from
40 feet away, that's all.

I'll stand here for ten seconds.

That's perfect. Thank
you. Thank you. Thank you.

I love you so much, Cami Lynn.

You're the center of my
earth and... I love you.

I'm gonna get you a charm
for your bracelet later.

Gonna pay extra to engrave
the baby's initials on it.

Happy birthday.

In 72 hours, you will be
free of your addiction.

You're already in pain.
You're already suffering.

Questions? Yes?

- What are you doing this for?
- Money.

From who? Who pays you?

Your grateful families.

That is the most bullshit business plan

I've ever heard.

None of these junkies come from money.

And that one's wearing jeggings from Ross.

They're just gonna
stiff you, Corporal Carl.

How much do you need?

$3,527.

First semester tuition at military school.

That's it?

With your charm and
your... commanding voice,

you could make that in about an
hour if you just apply yourself.

If you mean Uber, it's a bum deal.

No.

Ransom. Yeah.

We do a little ransom sitch.

You get me a few grams of coke

and I'll help you make a Jihad Joan video.

Let's Stanley Kubrick this shit.

Say that you're holding me hostage,

you need $3,527.

My dad's rich as fuck. He'll totally pay.

Nice of you to show up.

Wait. Wait... wait.

Hey, you got a mint?

His breath's still blowing a .34.

- Spearmint or winter mint?
- Winter mint, please.

All right, let me see you guys.

Eyes up. Let me see.

I look like I'm going clamming.

Yeah, that's fine.

All right. And you.

Oh, you got a couple

nicks on your neck, but

otherwise, pretty good.

And what are you gonna say?

- I'm sorry.
- No.

- I'm truly sorry.
- And?

I'm sober. I'm truly sober.

I don't want to spend years in jail, Lip.

I know what I need to say.

All right.

What about you? You gonna
say what we practiced?

I'm not gonna lie.

You're gonna say what we practiced.

All right, let's do this.

Here. Open the gate.

And good afternoon to you too, sir.

I'll be with you in just a moment.

What the hell are you
doing? Take my ticket.

Oh, I'm sorry, I just

need to sit here in quiet
and do some mental stretches,

'cause this math is
gonna be so hard for me.

I swear to God, I will drive
through this gate right now.

And done.

I'd be happy to take your ticket now, sir.

Thank you so very much for your patience.

Oh, um.

You only gave me 4.25
and the time is now 12:31.

You owe me $1.40.

Fuck you, Doctor Dick!

You're fucking ugly!

He's a dick!

I'm going to jail. For the rest of my life.

Gracias. You may be seated.

Mr. Feehan, call your witness.

Defense calls Bradley Young,
AA Secretary, Your Honor.

Do you affirm the testimony
you are about to give will be

the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth?

I do.

Mr. Young, you're a member of

Dr. Youens' AA group and
frequently serve as secretary.

- Is that right?
- Yes.

Can you tell the court, to
the best of your knowledge,

if Dr. Youens is currently sober?

I believe he is sober, at this time.

Does he attend meetings regularly?

I've seen him in attendance.

"Does he attend regularly"
was the question, Mr. Young.

Define regularly.

It's hard to say for sure.

Um, there are hundreds of meetings,

uh, he could be attending,
all over the city.

Mr. Young,

is he maintaining his sobriety?

I don't have access to him 24/7,

but... yes,

uh, I believe he is.

Mr. Young, you're excused.

The court now calls a recess.

All rise.

So what happens now?

Lunch.

Be back in an hour. I gotta take this.

This is Feehan.

- Oh, where you going?
- Prison.

It's not over yet.

I know that, Bradley.

I was being sardonic.

I'm going to take
my last leak as a free man,

if it's okay with you.

_

Kev?

Over here.

In the darkest corner of the lair.

Before we start, the
safe word is "alley cat."

I want you to take your
clothes off and get on the bed.

I'm going to drip this all over your body.

And you will bear the pain in silence.

Unless, of course, it's too
painful, then you say "alley cat."

Wax, Kev?

Now, wench!

Yes, sir.

I'm going to begin my cruel abuse

by dripping this onto
your beautiful breasts

that fed my children.

Ow... fuck!

I dripped it on my finger.
Oh, fuck, that hurts.

Wax is hot!

Alley cat.

Hey, sure you don't want one?

No, I'm not hungry.

You know he's going to jail, right?

He's guilty.

He drove his car into a house.

Almost hit a grandma.

The prosecutor's right.

- He's a danger to society.
- No, he didn't hit her.

He's had four previous DUls.

Didn't learn shit.

Can't teach an old dog new tricks.

It was anyone else,

you'd want him behind bars too.

How's my door coming?

If you're asking how long it's gonna take,

a long time.

Well, it's just that I

have an open house in a couple hours, so.

Where you at, girl?

In here!

Wow! Look at this.

All cleaned up.

And you got yourself a bowl of lemons.

All Crate & Barrel and shit.

Yeah, gotta get 1,100 a
month out of this place,

so can't fuck around.

He come with the place too?

Uh, Ford, this is Veronica.

V, this is Ford.

- Hey.
- He's got a thing for doors.

- Hi, how are you?
- Nice to meet you.

Cute.

Weird.

What's with tent city?

Anybody see you come in?

I don't think so. Why?

Ian's at large and we're unprotected,

ass out in the wind.

You know you sound batshit crazy, right?

You two have got to stop this bullshit.

Family is family.

- Can I help you?
- Are you Fiona Gallagher?

- Who's asking?
- Chicago Fire Department.

Got a call from a concerned neighbor

saying this building has
some fire code violations.

I need to look around.

Fire code violations?

No, I-I'm up to code on...

My God, fuckin' Ian.

No, he called the city on you?
That's some hardcore shit.

Game on, motherfucker!

Game on!

Asking for money from
somebody? Jesus, you're so slow.

What's taking so long?

We have customers waiting,
right, you understand that?

Don't you? Clean it up.

Mr. Gallagher, as a friend
and fellow AA member,

you'd like to speak on
behalf of Clyde Youens?

Yes.

Um.

There's been a lot of talk today

about Professor Youens
being a danger to society.

And I-I understand that
it could sound that way.

Uh, he has a bad track record with alcohol.

Whenever he and booze have had a face-off,

he usually loses.

Um, but I know Professor Youens well.

And he's not a danger to me.

No, in fact, I wouldn't
be alive without him.

A year ago, I was blacking out,

was violent,

and it was Professor Youens
that got me into rehab.

Uh, he even paid for it.
I didn't have the money.

And when I got out, he was there,

to take me to my first AA meeting.

He saw the value in my life

when I didn't.

I-I know that this car accident

was a wake-up call for him.

And he knows that he could have hurt

Ms. Rodriguez, but...

...he has remorse for
what he did, Your Honor.

And he has the will and the desire

to live a meaningful, sober life.

So...

...please give him the
chance that he gave to me.

Thank you, Mr. Gallagher.

You may be seated.

Thank you.

Defense calls Clyde Youens.

Oh...

Is he drunk?

How the hell did he get fucking drunk?

I don't know.

Hola.

Just make sure the tarps are secure.

All right. Be back.

Attention, street kids.

You look hungry. I bought you pizza.

It's being delivered right now to the park.

Completely free.

All you have to do is go there and eat it.

Hey, hey, Ian says we're not to leave camp.

It's meat lovers pizza.

I repeat, there is hot, free

meat lovers pizza waiting for ya.

Twelve large pies.

And I will pay you 20
bucks each to go eat it.

Okay!

Follow that pepperoni smell.

Who wants a crisp $20 bill?

You get a 20. You get a 20.

You get a 20. You get a 20. You get a 20.

You get a 20. You get a 20.

You get a 20.

You get a 20.

You get an extra 20.

An extra two 20s.

Okay, boys!

Bring it in! R?pido, r?pido!

Clear the lot!

Thank you, thank you! Everything goes!

Whoa... whoa... whoa, hey.

- Come on, now!
- No, cutting, man!

Sorry, I'm new here.
Where's the managers line?

We're all managers. I
was at IBM for 35 years.

Wait.

All of these men are laid-off managers?

That can't be.

Keith got dumped by GM.

- Steilen by EUS.
- Yep.

Kent by Dollar Depot. Cal by the "Tribune."

Twenty-seven Christmas Eves
I worked for those fucks,

and they laid me off on my 59th birthday.

What about you, buddy? Who done you wrong?

Oh, uh, Lumber Lawn and Lighting.

- Fuckin' automation.
- That's the worst, yeah.

Tough break, man. That's awful.

Thank you. It's been rough.

I've got five kids...

- And one of them's got asthma.
- Line starts back there, pal!

We shoot the whole thing on my phone,

"Blair Witch" style.

Make it shake. Make it seem trembly.

Won't they be able to recognize my voice?

Voice-changing app.

You'll sound like... Like Steve Hawking.

When I say "action," say you need

$3,527 for a drug debt.

They won't ask any questions

once they hear the words "drug debt."

And keep all the details really vague.

Say that you want to meet
somewhere public for the drop.

Um, somewhere that you know well.

Okay?

Ready?

And action!

No! No!

Fucking unbelievable!

That's what it is.

What is, Frank?

This United States of America.

I played by the rules.

I gave my life, my blood,
sweat, and tears to that job.

- Paid my taxes...
- For a few weeks.

Colored inside the lines.

Didn't roll through the stop sign.

And where did it get me?

Up the ass, that's where.

Right up the ole poop shoot.

I was moving up in this world.

And now?

I'm a 50-something

adult white male

with a couple of years of college

and managerial experience,

and the only thing available to me

is minimum wage!

The system is fucked!

Give me a shot of Jamie.

And leave the bottle.

The America we knew

has ditched the party
and turned the lights out,

boys and girls.

And left us white guys in
the dark to fight each other

over the few crumbs left
behind by our masters.

Am I right?

You think you're having a shit day, pal?

I'm being deported next month.

Been here 25 years.

I was a translator in Iraq
during the goddamn Desert Storm.

Now they're kicking me out.

Because of a fucking speeding ticket.

I tried to flee up to Canada,

but they stopped me at the border,

wouldn't let me in, sent me back.

Wait, you're trying to get out of America?

Yeah.

Jesus, that's a piece of fucking cake.

Yeah, maybe for a white guy.

Frank Gallagher.

- Akram.
- Akram, my friend.

This could be your lucky day.

Praise Allah.

What the...

There's a dumpster
welded to my fucking car?

Who the fuck welded
a dumpster to my fucking car?

What the motherfucking fuck?

What's going on down here?

I'm fired, but it was 100% worth it

to see the look on that scumbag's face.

Thank you very much for
the opportunity, Nadine.

I'll be back Friday to
collect my last check.

Please stand back, doors now closing.

Fuckin' A.

- Where is she?
- Who's she?

Don't "who" me, you little shit. Kassidi.

My daughter, where is she?

Uh, I can't disclose that
to you, sir. I promised her.

- How old are you kid, 15?
- Sixteen.

Well, maybe you don't know
this about the world yet,

but girls like Kassidi,
this is what they do.

You have no idea how many times I've done

this ransom bullshit thing.

My daughter's a Venus flytrap.

Lures you in, and snap,

eats you slowly over time.

Just like her mother.
And you're on the menu.

Now tell me where she is.

No can do.

Tell Kassidi it's Tiffani's 12th birthday

on Friday, and her mother
wants her at the club.

In the same blue Chanel dress
she ran off in last Friday.

Make sure she gets it dry-cleaned.

Hey.

Look, I don't care who's
right or who's wrong anymore.

I just want this to be over.

You threw away their shit.

And you called an inspector on me.

Cost me 400 bucks in sprinkler services.

We both did shit. We're both guilty.

I don't care anymore.
I just want to fix this.

I called Margo.

She's got another building
she's willing to lease.

It's way down on Ashland,
but it's got good bones

and she's willing to rent it monthly.

I already found the perfect building.

You stole it.

I understand that you feel wronged.

And while I do not see it that way,

I'm trying to do the right thing here.

I got Margo to waive first and last.

We don't want your charity.

Wait, where... where is this place?

Fuck off, Fiona. The answer's no.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

I am trying to move forward here

and you are acting like a toddler!

What is going on with you?

Are you off your meds?

- What?
- You heard me.

Your meds. Are you taking 'em?

Are you?

Yeah.

I am taking my fucking meds, Fiona.

I'm just... fucking angry.

Are you gonna accuse
me of being off my meds

every time I get fucking
angry for the rest of my life?

'Cause I am allowed to get angry...

at bitch assholes

when they are being fucking bitch assholes!

It's a good building.

At least take a look, okay?

We cross the Michigan border right here.

I am your deliverer, my friend.

It just so happens I
find myself between jobs,

so for a small fee...

say, 200, plus gas and tolls,

I'll get you and your family across,

show what that big,
beautiful country up north

is all "a-boot."

Hey, Frank, if you're going to Canada,

can you do me a favor, bring
me back some Canadian insulin?

It's 50 percent cheaper up there.

Sorry, going across on foot.

No time to hit a pharmacy.

Unless, of course, you
want me to make time?

You're a rat bastard, Frank, you know that?

It's my insulin. Literally keeps me alive.

It's your diabetes, not mine.

Oh, fine, I'll... I'll pay you 20 bucks

to get me a case of Canadian insulin.

- Oh, who's going to Canada?
- He is.

Buddy, listen, can you get me some EpiPens?

My kid's allergic to peanuts.

They're 600 bucks here,
and only 225 up there.

I-I'll pay you whatever he's paying.

Well, Kermit's a friend.

I was giving him the friend-price.

My rate's... $30 per drug,
per run, plus gratuity.

Done.

I-I was first. Frank, it's Invokana.

I-N-V-O-K-A-N-A.

You know, my cousin'd take
a case of that Tecfidera

for his MS friend.

Gentlemen, one at a time.

A man's backpack is only so big.

You okay?

I mean, they feeding you and stuff?

Yeah.

Just like summer camp.

The lawyer say anything
about a sentence hearing?

I mean, they set a date yet or...?

Yeah, uh, August 17th.

You want me to call anybody?

Who you gonna call, Lip?

Well, your family? Um.

Uh, your ex? Your daughter?

No.

They were gonna take it
easy on you today, you...

...you know that, right?

Yeah.

Where the fuck do you even
get booze in a courthouse?

I'm a drunk, Lip.

Drunks can always get booze.

I mean, you could've got probation.

A halfway house with time served.

What can I say?

Life's a bitch.

All you had to do

was not fucking drink, you stupid prick!

What the fuck's the matter with you anyway?

I wanted a drink.

Oh, you don't think I
wanted a fucking drink today?

All day I wanted a fucking drink.

Everybody gets to drink.

You get to drink. Brad gets to drink.

I get to clean up fucking
vomit and cart your ass around!

I mean, I want a fucking drink

so fucking bad

I'm afraid my head might fucking explode!

Hey!

Keep it down.

Look.

I appreciated all your help today.

But I didn't ask for it.

I never asked you for a thing.

You care?

I mean, do you care? About anything?

I chose booze.

A long time ago.

You don't like what you see,

don't look.

I went with Fiona to look
at that place on Ashland.

You what?

It's got good bones. I signed the lease.

Fuck, Trev.

She's right about you
not being yourself lately.

This isn't the mountain
you're making it to be.

Are you taking care of yourself?

Yes.

I am taking my fucking meds.

Now get off my porch, dick.

It is my job to do what
is best for those kids.

And that place on Ashland

will make their lives a little bit better.

God damn it, V! You used fabric softener.

Amy's allergic and now she's
gonna get a fuckin' angry rash.

Why can't you remember this shit?

No fabric softener in the girls' jammies.

Quick, Kev, what else?

What else what?

How else have I wronged you?

Besides fabric softener.

How have I been a bad, bad girl?

Oh.

Hey.

Hey, you get tuition?

- Every cent.
- Yes. See?

I knew you could do it.

I saw your potential, and I helped you

achieve great things.

Wait, what are you doing?

Letting you go.

What? Why?

You got me my tuition. You're free to go.

You know, there's this party
for Tiffani on Friday...

No! No, God, no.

Please, don't make me go, Carl.

You have no idea

what kind of fucking
hell awaits me outside.

SAT prep. Tennis camp.

Another fucking cruise
around the Greek Islands,

as if I haven't seen the Gallipoli.

Like I enjoy P Diddy's yacht

just because my father does his teeth.

Who cares?

You have to go home, Kassidi.

No, this is like Stockholm Syndrome,

only for real.

I will not go back.

No.

No, I get to stay.

Say it.

Say, "You get to stay, Kassidi."

See? You do want me to stay.

Fuck.

You, uh, want mayo or mustard?

You got any Dijon?

No.

Mayo.

You want to hit the 8:00 a.m.
meeting tomorrow or the 9:00?

9:00.

Cool.

You know, we're gonna
get you that 30-day chip.

You'll be back home

with Cami and your baby before you know it.

Program works if you work it, right?

How's the sandwich?

It's good.

Thanks.

Hi, Ian. Can I come in?

Sure.

I want things to be okay between us.

They are.

Really?

'Cause I'd prefer not to
wake up to a bucket of ice.

We're fine.

I shouldn't have wasted my
energy on that bullshit anyway,

not when there are larger
concerns to consider.

Larger concerns like what?

Is there anything else
you wanted to talk about?

I was almost asleep in here.

Night, Ian.

I love you, you know?

You too.

And do you think I like
picking long scummy hairs

out of the drain? No.

But do you give a fuck? No.

If you did, you would use the
goddamn mesh drain stopper.

- Wouldn't you?
- Yes...

- Wouldn't you?
- I'm close.

I'm so close!

You never hang up wet towels.

You never refill the ice tray!

You never buy stamps!