Survivor's Remorse (2014–2017): Season 2, Episode 8 - The Date - full transcript

This is Clay Beckwith.

He specializes in
defending rich athletes

and their felonious relatives.

I'd insist on therapy and
community service for Mary-Charles

since she's ineligible
for a diversion program.

I shouldn't have come.

You came because you wanted to.

We have ties that bind.

What if it doesn't work out?

I mean, could you imagine how much
trouble that'd cause for everybody?

Imagine the best, not the worst, Cassie.



Take a leap of faith.

Just wink if I'm gonna be okay.

Mr. Calloway.

Why the hell did you tell
me I was gonna be okay?

- Did she?
- You threw me under the bus.

I'm a flawed person,
but I'm not irredeemable,

and I really want to take you out.

My shift ends at 2:00 AM.

If you're here, maybe you get my number.

Miss Pierce?

- You hacking into the Pentagon?
- Yep.

Careful, they don't do WikiLeak
documentaries on brothers.

Brothers go straight to Gitmo.

I got a date with Allison. I'm
finding out what I can about her.



That's the point of the date.

- You been out of the game too long.
- Are you calling me old?

I'm calling you married and old.

Married or young, don't stalk
your way into this girl's heart.

I'm scouting, not stalking.

- I ain't diggin' up the girl's geotags.
- Oh, man, come on.

Just browsing her social media.

Picking up the breadcrumbs she
purposely left on her life's trail.

I'm getting to know her
before I get to know her.

Do that in person through conversing.

It's all about discovery, baby.

Discovery in person. That
shit fires the neurons.

And there's probably shit on there

she's outgrown and wants to forget.

That's why I'm doing
this, to excavate her shit.

Like Ronald Reagan
said, "Trust but verify."

Did you just quote Ronald fucking Reagan?

I got a new app about history, man.

I'm trying to become more
educated during my longer shits.

Just go, be you, be young,
black, famous, money out the anus.

I'm telling you, this
girl is special, okay?

- You don't know this girl.
- And neither do you.

- Oh, my... damn.
- What? Let me see.

- Reg, come on.
- Okay, yeah, yeah, yeah.

I see it. I see it.
That is the kind of girl

that you get pregnant on purpose, man.

I see you.

Man, I knew she had the
goods underneath them scrubs.

Yeah, you got a real nobility of purpose.

I meant that in the most
gentlemanly way possible.

- Really?
- You know girls talk about dicks at brunch.

Yeah, and thank God they do.

If not, the world would be fuckin'
M-Chucks and M-Chucks alone.

Hey, stop talking shit. Boys, Jules.

- No way.
- Oh.

- Way.
- You two?

Became one last night.

Wow. Well, congratulations.

Thank you.

Um, y'all mind if I get you on the Snap?

- Uh...
- Hey, what did I just say to you upstairs?

That I was the best you ever had.

Is that what she said?

I told you that I would
bring you down to breakfast

if you did not try to
Snapchat with my brother.

He seemed friendly and open to it.

- I am friendly.
- Not open to it.

Jules, can I speak to you inside?

- Are you asking me to leave?
- Politely.

Okay.

Uh, Cam, if things don't work
out between me and your sister,

you and I can always give it a try.

Thanks, but I'm currently in a
relationship that hasn't really started yet.

Hey, my brother and I, we got a bro code.

Oh, well, fine. We'll talk business, then.

Cam, here's my business card.

In case you ever wanna fucks with me.

Jules, may I walk you to your car?

I don't think this is gonna work.

Why are you being such a drama king?

- Just come on.
- So, when did that happen?

Not sure.

I ain't creeping on Chuck's geotags either.

Look, now that you have downloaded
terabytes of Allison's data,

what's the date plan?

I seen a picture of steak
"tarter" on her Instagram,

so I'm thinkin' I'm gonna
take her to Rathbun's.

Steak tartare, it's not "tarter."

What's steak "tarter," then?

The shit left on your
teeth after you eat steak.

Look, just ease up. Let it flow tonight.

Be you. Okay, she gonna find out
who you are eventually anyway,

and she'll either like it or she won't.

That actually makes sense. Thanks, Reg.

I still got it, baby.

Yeah, but you still married as fuck.

Hey, you find the right
woman, it ain't a bad thing.

You can get on with the
living and the fucking

instead of the Googlin' and the hopin'.

- Ah.
- Ah.

- All right, yeah.
- Okay, all right.

- Let me see her picture again.
- Look.

That's baby girl from the hospital?

She's cute, right?

Text me that photo immediately. Hi-res.

Man, I'm gonna take me a bike ride.

Yeah, get that body nice.

Be a better me. And get some pussy, too.

- Oh.
- Yeah, the same reason

why M-Chuck goes to that head doctor.

Mary-Charles is not seeing
a shrink for her health

or for her pussy intake.

She's court-ordered. She
don't go, she goes to jail.

It's not so bad. I mean,
the breakthroughs hurt,

but it's a good hurt.

Breakthrough? Mary-Charles,
ain't nothing broken about you.

That's what them headshrinkers
want you to think.

That's the hustle. Only need therapy

as long as you can afford to have it.

Nobody's telling me what to think.

Therapy's all about
listening to my thoughts.

And your thoughts better not be about me

'cause I raised the shit out of you.

- Mm-hmm, she raised you.
- Hear that?

All right, so don't let some voodoo doctor

teach you how to hate
your family, you hear me?

- I won't.
- All right.

Hey, what'd you do with the
girl you brought home last night?

- We finished fucking.
- Julius.

- Hey, did she lick your belly button?
- No.

- Julius.
- I mean from the inside.

- I'm talking about the tongue going all the way...
- Hey, hey, hey, hey, enough.

A little more respect here? Really.

Hey.

Hey. Oh, there's my number-one son.

Look. Raised in the same household.

He turned out fine. He
didn't need no shrink.

Hey, not yet. Seize the day, y'all.

- All right, baby.
- What's with the motivational phrase-ology?

Some girl he hardly knows
got him thinking and thinking.

Yeah. I gotta go. I'll see y'all.

Wait a minute, Reggie.
I'm gonna ride with you.

Missy's gonna school me on how
to make dumplings for my Chen.

He's ten pounds away from
being the perfect man.

I need something to grab.

What does Missy know
about making dumplings?

Hopefully more than me.

Hey, when did you and
Mr. Miyagi get so serious?

Stop calling him that.

Okay. Well, wax on and wax off.

Fuck you.

- I gotta go, man.
- Oh, I do, too.

Oh, what? Everybody's...

What... what? Everybody's leaving?

I got the place all to myself?

You keep your clothes
on in the common areas

and don't get any ideas.

You know I ain't got no underwear on...

Okay, you have made it this far.

Don't be a creepy uncle now, please.

All right.

Mm.

How's that?

* Come on, baby *

* Let's go, everybody,
like you got the right thing *

* We need peace *

* We've got to have
freedom all the same *

* Come on *

* Give me freedom *

* Brother, brother *

* Give me freedom *

* Brother, brother *

* Give me freedom *

* Brother, brother *

* Give me freedom *

* Brother, brother *

* Come on, brother,
give me freedom *

* Show me how to do it *

* Walk down the road
and say that you ain't... *

Hey! Stop! I wanna talk!

Then I'll kick your ass!

Fuck.

Ah.

* Give me freedom,
brother, brother *

* Give me freedom... *

I know what it look like.

A black man doing what
you heard black men do,

but I live here.

I'm Cam Calloway's uncle.
Professional baller.

A thief stole my bike.

I'm sorry to ramble, but
police make me nervous.

It's genetic.

You got ID?

Oh, indeed. Can I... can I dig for it?

Slow.

You say someone stole your bike?

Yeah, it's a 20-speed, man.

I tried to catch him,
but he flew off like ET.

His ID says he lives here.

Yeah, Uncle Sam don't lie.

- You get a good look at him?
- Yeah.

- What'd he look like?
- White.

Anything more specific?

White. Like a privileged motherfucker.

Like he had time to just sit around

and do nothing but put
mousse and gels in his hair.

Was he short? Tall?

Average-size white guy.

I can't tell these motherfuckers apart.

No offense.

You wanna roll with us?
See if we can find him?

Yeah. Let's go find this Justin
Bieber lookin' motherfucker.

Uh, hey, man.

How can I help you?

Uh, I'm here to see Allison?

Who the fuck is Allison?

- I don't know.
- Mm-hmm. Like shit you don't know.

- Is Allison your girl?
- That's the hope,

but unless you guys are her
roommates, I think I got the wrong...

You lying ass home-wrecking ass.

I'm done with you! You dirty bitch.

- What you talking about?
- No!

I promise you I'm not cheating
on you no more, Veronica.

Damn.

I'm so sorry, man. I think
I got the wrong apartment.

It's all good, man. Look,
just get us to the playoffs

- and we straight, baby.
- All right, then. Word.

Cam.

I think I just broke up a relationship.

They fight all the time,

and then they make up... loudly.

So, uh, I got the apartment wrong.

Did I get the night wrong, too?

No.

I mean, it's just 'cause you're in scrubs.

Which is cool. I think
you look great in scrubs.

You wanna come in for a minute?

Yeah, sure.

It's very spartan in here.

I'm sorry?

Uh, Spartan. I've been reading
history in my free time.

Spartans weren't big on decorations.

Maybe they worked 18-hour shifts like I do.

I'm still pretty new to Atlanta.

I was living in Athens till a while ago.

People from Athens hated the Spartans.

I was living in Athens, Georgia.

Right. Just making a Greek joke.

So, uh, what's in Athens, Georgia?

- My boyfriend.
- Oh.

He's my ex-boyfriend now.

Right. Cool, cool, cool.

I know this neighborhood isn't very nice.

You must feel like
you're back in Dorchester.

How you know I was from Dorchester?

I Googled you.

- You Googled me?
- I did.

Oh, what came up?

- You never Googled yourself?
- It's been a while.

My cousin does it just to keep tabs.

You got a guy who Googles you for you?

Only very recently. So what came up?

A lot. Your contract. Your
mother who whooped you.

Your sister who almost punched your eye out

and threw bibles in a church.

That was page one.

Everybody knows the
good stuff's on page two.

Look, you seem like a good dude.

Maybe even really good.
And you're handsome.

Maybe even really handsome.

So far I can't see why you
even let me in the house.

But I read what I read,

and I realized we're living
on two different Earths.

So as flattered as I am that
you asked me out on the date

and actually spent the last few
weeks trying to make this happen,

I think we just should spare ourselves

the trouble and time and not pursue this.

Hold up. You're bouncing me
pre-date based on internet research?

Based on reality.

And I should have called you
before you made the trip over,

and I'm sorry, but I wanted
to say this in person.

You know, I Googled you, and I
didn't have a problem with it.

You Googled me? When were
you gonna tell me that?

I just did.

And, you know, from what I saw,

we ain't on two different Earths at all.

I mean, why do you think we are?

Because I got a little money

and there's crazy women all over my house?

That's every successful black man.

You're exactly the kind
of person I should date.

You know how I know?

Because I would try to date you

even if I was still in Dorchester

with nothing to my name except my name.

Even if nothing good
had ever happened to me,

I'd still be interested in getting to know

what appears to be a quality individual,

and I would step up to
you and I'd say my piece.

You can say that, but you can't know that.

I can. There's things I know.

Oh. Did you go to page two on my Google?

I went to page five,

which by then, I think, was
a different Allison Pierce.

She's a mortician.

So did you see my bathing-suit photo?

See it every time I close my eyes.

What is your point?

I just hate that it's on there.

I'll get Reggie to take it off.

See, that's what I mean.

On your Earth, you are
stronger than Google.

I been looking forward
to this date for a week.

I changed my shirt three times.

My uncle's still laughing.

- And that's what you went with?
- What?

- What is that?
- A feather? A wave?

It's a fuckin' dope-ass shirt.

I'm just messing with you.

Let's be sensible, shake hands,

and part friends, okay?

I'm not gonna try to lawyer you on this.

I was raised a woman says no, it's no,

even if it was a yes originally.

I said no originally.

About 11 times, as I recall.

And then you lawyered me into a yes,

which was against my better judgment,

which is back now.

Okay, Allison. I will be on my way,

and I'm sorry it didn't work out.

I just gotta say, when I saw
you, I understood the Trojan War.

- What?
- Some more Greek shit that I been reading about.

The King of Sparta, something with an "A,"

was in love with Helen,
who ran away with a Trojan.

Not a condom, a guy
from Troy. I understand.

And this guy was willing
to send his whole navy,

a thousand ships, just to get her back,

because he had an instinct that
they were supposed to be together,

even though in the face
of it it didn't make sense.

- So what happened?
- I don't know. I haven't gotten that far.

But I have an instinct, and I'm
willing to send all my ships.

Look me in the eye and tell me

that you don't have an instinct, too.

- I'm a practical person.
- That's not what I asked you.

Hey, Cam, it was really nice to meet you.

And I wish you well. I really do.

And take care of your knee, okay?

Okay.

A few weeks ago, I realized why
I started playing basketball.

- Because you were good at it?
- No.

- Because you love it?
- No.

- To make money?
- No.

- To get out of Dorchester.
- No.

- To be famous.
- No. To meet you.

Google says you like
food trucks. That true?

That last one got you, huh?

Yeah. It was pretty good.

How about that bike there?

No, that bike's a piece of shit.

My bike's expensive. My
nephew bought it for me.

Well, keep your eyes open

and try to err on the side of prosecution.

Hey, how you holding up back there, Julius?

Oh, fine. The seat ain't
that bad without handcuffs on.

You new to the neighborhood?

I'm new to the neighborhood,
new to the South.

I'm from Boston.

- Boston?
- Yeah, Boston, man.

Oh, fuck the Celtics. Fuck
the Red Sox while you're at it.

I would say fuck you,

but I'm in the back seat behind a cage.

- Uh-huh. And we can still cuff you.
- Yeah.

There's only one thing
I wish I could do, man.

- What's that?
- Fuck a cop's wife.

Is this the right street we on, man?

Say, fellas, look. I gotta take a dump.

We need to make a pit stop.

We call that a shit stop.

Whatever you call it,
the shit is calling me.

I need a bathroom now.

All right. We call that an emergency.

How do you know Chen even likes dumplings?

- The man is Chinese.
- That doesn't mean that he li...

Oh, what the fuck am
I supposed to make him?

Fondue? Bratwurst?

The man is Chinese. I'm
making him Chinese food.

You see his eyes and his hair.

What you trying to say,
the dude ain't Chinese?

I... I'm not. You not.

- Nobody get up.
- Not my house.

I guess what I'm trying to say

is how would you feel if Chen
tried to woo you with fried chicken?

I would only be offended if
the chicken wasn't on point.

That's why my dumpling
game has got to be tight.

Oh, there she is. Fresh
off the gossip session.

I love you, Mother.

Chuck, you look really happy.

It's nice.

I'm so used to see you
smile at disturbing shit.

Well, thank you, Missy.

It is nice to finally be
able to have a platform

to express the nuances of my soul.

And to think it only took
the real threat of jail.

Well, as my therapist says,

it's not how I got here,

it's how I get now.

That really means something to you?

Man, these people are thieves,

charging you money to
spew bullshit like that.

What else y'all talk about?

I'd like to keep that
between me and my therapist.

The discoveries that
build me up in the process

might sometimes tear others down,

so I have to, uh, tread lightly.

- That's smart.
- Yeah, I mean, you just quoted your therapist.

That was between you and
everybody in the kitchen.

Therapy is good.

There was a point in my life

when I was in therapy twice a week.

Twice a week?

So you basically spend your
sessions shitting on me, don't you?

I could read between the fuckin' lines.

Hostility is not worth engaging.

That is a lesson I learned.

Well, you walk in here all smug and shit,

talking like you a fuckin' shaman

after court-ordered therapy,

and I'm calling bullshit.

And I understand now that
my happiness upsets you.

- The fuck you sayin' to me.
- You fuckin' heard me.

I am your shoulder when
you need someone to lean on,

and I am your punching bag when
you need someone to beat up.

You know, I think you hit your head

on that fuckin' therapist couch,

'cause obviously you don't realize

and have forgotten who has supported you

through the thickest and the thinnest.

Who fuckin' changed your Pampers,

who wiped your fuckin' ass.

Who worked 20 fuckin' hours
for you and your bother.

Who the fuck are you talking to?

I... I... I would like a dumpling.

Is that how you remember it?

Because what I remember is you hitting me

over petty bullshit one minute,

and then the next minute you crying to me

over the fucked-up state of your life,

and I was a part of that
state you were crying over.

And I remember raising
Cam while you were working.

I was working.

That don't change the fact I had to act

like I was 26 when I was 13,

and not even so much as a "thank you"

for being a good daughter.

Mary-Charles, the fact
that you standing here

in my fuckin' face as
a grown-ass woman alive

is my fuckin' thank you.

This is some bullshit.

You know what? Maybe,
but you need to know this.

For a lot of years, the thing
that you were best at as a mother

was making me feel worthless,

and there ain't no do-overs.

Just admitting it and moving on.

What were you in therapy for?

Not you.

A thief matching you and
your buddy's description

stole a bike and is still in the area.

My description? What? Handsome and buff?

You kids have a choice.

You can stop talking shit,

or you can find yourself
face down in handcuffs.

Who's talking shit? You're talking shit.

I'm just listening to your shit.

Why would any of us steal a dusty-ass bike?

'Cause that's what you
boys do. Ain't it, boy?

- Boy?
- Boys? What's that supposed to mean?

Look, the blond guy who
took the bike ain't here.

This guy's got frosted tips. Look.

They're highlights.

Take your asses home.

Yeah. And read a book while you're there.

A long one.

You know what, guys? I don't need no bike.

I'm thinking about getting a moped

or a skateboard or something.

Let's just let it go.

What, and let the thieves win?

Just for tonight.

- All right. If you say so.
- All right.

You wanna get something to eat first?

Yeah, let's go on in there.

I gotta, you know, pay
homage to this business,

'cause I just blew they toilet up.

Oh, whoa, whoa. Sometimes
that is a beautiful noise.

This is Reggie. Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.

Uh-huh. Yeah.

Don't beat yourself up.

We all get upset and say
things that we didn't mean.

When Mary-Charles gets upset,
she says exactly what she means.

That child always did enjoy drawing blood.

Therapists are often wrong.

Mine said I had an Electra complex.

Fuck is that?

It's where you wanna fuck your
father and pussy-block your mother.

Well, was it true?

I mean, it was close, though.

I wanted to pussy-block my father

and get my mother laid.

I just don't like being found
guilty by a judge who should know.

None of us do.

All right, set down your breakables.

Why? What happened now?

That was Clay Beckwith.
He got a call from the DA.

Mary-Charles has not shown up for
one single therapy appointment.

- What?
- Therapist couldn't pick her out of a lineup.

Which is ironic, because
if she doesn't start going,

she's gonna be in a lineup.

When did the state of
Georgia become so passionate

about black girls' mental health?

It's a violation of her
agreement with the DA,

and if she keeps this up, they're
gonna send her to Reidsville.

- Jeez.
- I know.

I mean, she just went on and on.

Stood right there where you are.

One of the best liars you'll
ever meet. Always has been.

Now obviously she has some
issues with professional help.

I don't know what they are.
Right now, I don't care.

Our job is to tag-team this
shit. Get her on the couch.

And she ain't gotta say a word to
that doctor if she don't want to.

Hell, she can sing karaoke,

but one way or another, she will
punch the clock of well-being.

Aunt Cass, are you hearing me?

Oh, I knew she wasn't my fault.

She always did have a great imagination.

I swear, root beer be fuckin'
me up like the real beer.

Sugar's the sweetest drug.

Shit. There he is.

Stop! Freeze!

Put your hands in the air.

You done made the wrong turn,

and now we done caught you, Pac-Man.

I said put your hands in the air.

Higher.

I literally can't raise them any higher.

I didn't do anything wrong.

- Why were you running?
- Because you were chasing.

Innocent people don't run.

Man, you ain't gotta steal my shit.

You blond. You don't need my shit.

I didn't do anything to you.

You should handle this
one, for obvious reasons.

Huh. Nice.

Nicely handled.

Oh, come on, man. We cool.

He wasn't running from the three of us.

He's not running now, is he?

Oh, shit. That ain't even my bike.

That's the wrong bike.
The kid is innocent, man.

No, no, no, no. He's guilty of something.

Yeah, kid looking like that,

riding around here all by himself.

He's bound to shoot up a
school or something eventually.

We just saved a bunch of other little kids.

Yeah, some teachers.
And a custodian or two.

Lunch lady.

- Oh, yeah?
- You're lucky, kid.

Real lucky.

We should probably get rolling.

Julius, you coming with us, right?

No, I think I dropped
a cell phone back here.

Thanks, though.

Be cool.

Be cool too, kid.

Take about four Advil.
You'll be fine in the morning.

Kid, come on. Come on. Get up.

Kid, get up. Come on. Get up.

You get any video of that?

Nah, I ain't get no video.

I try to stay hands-free around the police.

They fucked you up, man.

Excuse the barbecue sauce.

Did you get their badge numbers?

No, I didn't.

Oh, God. I didn't steal anything.

Ever?

A York Peppermint Pattie when
I was, like, six-years-old,

but that... that doesn't
make me, like, a bad kid.

Like, in life.

Oh, God. They broke my nose.

I can't even breathe.

Look, if you walking and you talking,

then you can breathe.

God, that was so fucked up.

Sometimes that's how things go.

Just grin and bear it, young'un.

Just grin and bear it. You like gelato?

What's that?

Italian ice cream.

I never had it.

Do you like black girls?

I know where the black
girls and the gelato is.

Okay.

Okay? Motherfucker, what you mean "okay"?

Okay.

Come on.

- What do you say?
- Thank you, Mr. Calloway.

All good. Now go to bed, all right?

Can't stay in school if
you're late to school.

Yes, you can. You just stay late.

You know, you're a pretty smart kid.

- Thank you.
- Bye.

On the house, Mr. Calloway.

You sure? 'Cause, I
mean, I'd rather just...

Oh, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Ah, there you go. Paid in full.

All right.

Take care, Mr. Calloway.

Yeah. You, too.

Do you wanna be invisible ever?

I've been invisible.
I'm happy being visible.

When I'm unhappy, I just stay home.

You know, most people just
want an excuse to smile.

I'm happy to give 'em one.

It ain't gonna be that way forever.

You at peace with that?
With it ending someday?

Tonight I am.

Ooh.

Ow!

Ooh, shit.

- You okay, ma'am?
- Oh, I never saw him.

Here, I got you.

- Ready?
- Uh-huh.

One, two, three.

Can you... yeah.

Oh, thank you. You are quite strong.

Thanks.

I think it's a fracture.

Are you in the medical arts,

or do you just like wearing the clothes?

The first one.

Imagine being so lucky

and so unlucky at the same time.

Hey, I saw the whole thing.

I'm gonna go to my car, call it in,

get you an ambulance.

And we'll stay with her until they come.

Hey. How you doing, man?

Just fine. Hi, nice to meet you.

Yeah. All right.

Keep it elevated, right?

That's right.

Should I know you, young man?

Um, no, ma'am. I'm Cameron.

Barbara.

This is Allison.

How long you two been married?

We... we're not married.

Really? That's amazing.

It is?

Don't you know how you are together?