The Big C (2010–2013): Season 1, Episode 10 - Divine Intervention - full transcript

Previously on The Big C...

I cannot believe I am seeing you.

Rebecca.

It's not a good time to do laundry, Sis.

What do you say,
you and I make a little fun of our own?

- I got a hand job.
- The rugby slut?

Do you prefer white women or black women?

- You slept with this cow?
- No.

I'm not good enough
for your scrawny virgin ass?

Fuck you and your whole fucked-up family.

My punishment is driving myself home?



He has seven stitches,
but he's gonna be fine.

Where were you, honey? He tried to call you.

I couldn't hear the phone.

I saw you.

- Paul.
- I want a divorce.

- Hey, Mom. I'm going to Brent's.
- No, Adam.

Adam, you are supposed to be in bed.

- You have a concussion.
- Had a concussion, Mom.

You are still...
You're recovering from the accident.

I don't want you to end up
like one of those football players

that didn't listen to their doctor
and now it's 10 years later,

and they don't know how to make toast.

Mom, I'm just gonna play video games.

It's not like I'm gonna go outside and, like,
bang my head against the kerb.



Fine, but you just promise me
you will take it easy.

- Yes. I will wear a helmet in his living room.
- You're joking, but I'd prefer that.

Here. Wait, wait one second.

- Okay, say, "Cheese."
- Cheese.

You're so weird.

You know, I specifically asked
that yahoo at the store for this paint in flat.

This is definitely shiny.

Makes the walls look like
they're covered in snot or something.

It is looking pretty snotty.

- Paul wants a divorce.
- Hell.

Well, I can't blame him.
I mean, really, what was I thinking?

He caught me having an affair.

Just because you have cancer

doesn't give you the right
to be a destructive bitch.

Wow.

Ask me,
you need to get your head out of your ass,

'cause you've really messed shit up
for yourself.

- Sorry about slapping you.
- Guess somebody needed to do it.

Hey!

Are you really not returning my calls
because I'm fucking your brother?

Would you keep your voice down?
This is my neighbourhood.

Sorry. Screwing your brother?

Well, you're using the present tense,
so I assume the romance continues.

Yeah. We made the sweaty humpback beast
just this morning.

- I have a class to teach.
- Hey! It was a joke.

Remember jokes?
Anyway, I'm not here to talk about Sean.

I just...
I'm in town, and I would like to see you

and catch up and be friends.
How is that a problem?

It's a problem
because you make it a problem.

- I...
- Because our friendship

has always come second
to your dalliances with men,

and now the dalliance is my brother.

And I don't want to be at some ladies' lunch
and have you tell me about Sean's penis,

and if it's smaller or larger or otherwise
than what you're accustomed to.

- Now I have to go to work.
- You know, this isn't all me.

From the minute you met Paul,
he's all you talked about.

And the next thing I knew, you were living
the suburban housewife dream,

and making me feel ridiculous
for my partying and my serial dating,

but what the hell else was I supposed to do?

Nobody fell in love with me.

Well, I guess we're both screw-ups.

Maybe we should break up. We already did.

Are we back to where we started?

What is going on with you?
You're showing up late to class,

you're skipping weigh-ins. Get inside.
Class started 10 minutes ago.

I'm not going to class.

In fact, I'm dropping your class.
I just came to get my shit.

- What?
- Yeah, I don't like the way you teach.

You can't drop out.

If you don't finish this class,
you don't get to graduate next year.

- Oh, well.
- "Oh, well"?

- I have bent over backwards for you.
- It's all about you, isn't it?

Must be so nice to be you.

Pretty white girl living in suburbia
whose biggest concern

is finding an eye shadow
that doesn't totally wash her out.

Take a walk in my shoes for a fucking day.

Growing up in the hood,
having to hit a drive-through for breakfast

because Mommy spent the last
of the grocery money on her morning fix.

But that's okay. I can always rely on Dad.

Wait, I can't. 'Cause when I was a baby,

he was shot to death
trying to rob a liquor store.

So excuse the fuck out of me

if I'm not the model student
you want me to be.

I didn't know.

We all have our secrets, don't we?

What does that mean?

I know you're fucking that painter man.
Yeah.

I know a lot of things.
That you're a self-righteous slut,

that your son's a judgemental asshole,

and that I'm through
with your sorry-ass class

and this whole sorry-ass fucking school.

Andrea.

Shit.

How about another little splash there, chief?

- Hey, buy a lady a drink?
- Show me a lady, and I might.

- Fuck you, Paulie.
- One for the lady.

I haven't seen you around the rugby field
in a while.

I hope I didn't scare you away.

Nah. Just a little ligament damage, you know.

Very common injury in elite athletes.

On top of that, the rest of my life,
complete fucking clusterfuck.

Join the club.

Last week, my cat was diagnosed
with feline leukaemia.

And then yesterday,
I dropped my iPhone into the toilet

while I was video-chatting with a client.

And I hope that video fried out
before he got a potty shot of my pooter.

Are you okay?

Cathy and I are getting a divorce.

Sorry.
I know you guys were having problems.

Should have seen it coming.

You know,
I knew something was up for a while,

and I couldn't figure out what it was.
And then, a couple of days ago, get this,

I catch her in our own backyard
fucking some guy.

Holy shit.

- I'm so sorry, Paulie.
- Thank you, Tina. I mean it.

It actually feels really good to talk about it.

You know, to tell someone
and have them listen, you know?

Yeah, I do.

Anyway, screw Cathy. It's her loss.
I say we drink until we get her off your mind.

Get who off my mind?

- To a newly single Paulie.
- Hell, yeah.

- Tell me more about how bad you are.
- I'm not in the mood.

- Cathy has zapped my libido.
- That bitch!

What does that mean?

She hates the fact that I'm seeing you,
and I get it.

I haven't seen her for 20 years and I show up,

and I start doing whatever we're doing,
and I've done this kind of thing before.

With who? I'm her only brother.

If we could just make this
less just about the sex,

I'd feel better.

We could nurture our friendship,

and then maybe
I could repair my friendship with her.

All right, fine.

Talking about my sister
has made me lose my semi, anyway.

So...

I think iPhones are the new diamonds.

Guys give women electronics now
for romantic occasions,

and it's kind of a shame.

Gift-giving in general is kind of a shame.

Can we at least talk about this
with our pants off?

I'm sorry.
I'm looking for the Jackson residence.

- Well, this is it. Can I help you?
- I'm Andrea's teacher, Cathy Jamison.

It's so nice to meet you.
I'm Dorothy, Andrea's mother.

- Andrea's told us so much about you.
- She's told me a lot about you, too.

Well, she absolutely adores you.
Says you're her favourite teacher.

- Well, here, come on in.
- Thank you.

- Donovan, we have company.
- I'm in the kitchen, hon.

- Smells good in there. What is it?
- Making steak.

Donovan, honey, this is Cathy,
the teacher Andrea's always telling us about.

- This is Andrea's dad.
- So you're her stepdad?

No, the real deal.

Andrea's our last of six.

I... I must have been thinking about
another student.

You know,
Andrea sure does go on about you.

Well, she exaggerates.

Yeah, well, she sure wasn't real happy
to be taking summer school.

Called it retard school.
She can be crass, that one.

But she stuck with it
and really turned things around.

We've had our trouble with her.
She's our academic challenge.

We tried everything.
But you can't love 'em smart.

- So is Andrea here?
- You just missed her.

- She's down the street at the church.
- At choir practice.

Baby girl sings like a bird.

Okay. Okay.

When I was 18,
I was on an international flight,

and I gave a blow job to a complete stranger.

- You're shitting me?
- No.

Okay, okay, okay. Your turn.
A sexy or embarrassing story. Go.

I don't think
this paints me in a very flattering light,

but when Cathy and I
were going on our honeymoon,

I wanted to go to the south of France

'cause I was hoping
there might be some topless beaches there.

You're newly married
and you want to look at other girls' tits?

I'm a tit man. Sue me. Shit.

- This is fun.
- Yeah?

- You're easy to talk to. I like your stories.
- Yeah, I actually only have about 15 of them.

You got me for another half hour,
and then I get boring.

I like your hat.

You know, I've always wondered

why black women wear these beautiful hats
to church.

I mean, whenever my dad walked into church,
he always took his hat off.

When he walked into any building, really.

Not that he was any shining example
of anything.

I wear a hat because women,
and not just black women,

should cover their heads
while they're in the house of the Lord.

Same reason you Jews wear yarmulkes.

I'm not Jewish.

Not that there's anything wrong
with being Jewish. It's a beautiful religion.

It's just...

Jesus is my guy. Sort of.

I mean, I haven't been to church
in a really long...

I don't think Jesus
would appreciate your manners.

- That was really beautiful, Andrea.
- What are you doing here?

- Your mom told me you were here.
- My mom? You went to my house?

Well, you know, I had to swing by the hood,
make sure your drug-addled mom

wasn't dying
with a needle stuck between her toes,

because if that happened,
you'd be an orphan,

what with your dad
being a dead felon and all.

Why would you lie to me about that?

Who the fuck are you to call me a liar?

Maybe I lied because I don't like you.

I don't need your advice,
I don't need your help,

I do just fine, thank you.

Besides, it's obvious
you only came to find me

'cause you're afraid I'll tell everyone
about your affair.

I am here because I care about you.

I don't want you quitting school
because of a mistake that I made.

And just so you know,
my husband already knows about the affair.

- Does Adam know?
- No.

And I wish you wouldn't tell him,
but I can't stop you if you do.

You are so not good enough for him.

- Good enough for who?
- Lenny.

Is that what this is about? A crush?
You have a crush on Lenny?

What, you think a guy that fine
wouldn't go for a girl like me?

I don't think he would go for you
because he's 25 years older than you are.

Do not quit school, Andrea.

Life is hard enough with an education.
Don't make it harder on yourself.

Get out of my church,
and leave me the hell alone.

It's not weird we're doing this
in my sister's waterbed, right?

I mean, we could be doing it
in her guestroom,

but that's where she keeps
her creepy doll collection.

Besides, there's a nice potpourri scent
in here. It's pleasant.

It's like Country Cottage Rose
or some lavender something.

Jesus.

I hope your sister doesn't mind
that I used her razor.

Old nuns and baseball.
Old nuns and baseball.

Old nuns and baseball.
Old nuns and baseball.

- Shit.
- What?

Shit, I don't have a condom.

Maybe go see in the kitchen
if there's some Saran Wrap

or something like that.

Paulie, shush.

It's a big one. It's too big.

And now some more fun facts
about our former presidents.

Let's see. William Howard Taft was so fat
that he got stuck in his own bathtub.

Conversely, James Madison
weighed only 100 pounds,

which is ironic, considering that his wife,
Dolley Madison,

- was feeding him Zingers and Donut Gems.
- Sean.

Hey, Sis. I'm just educating.

- Would you care to audit the class?
- Get out here. Now.

Read. Something.

- What the hell are you doing?
- You're fucking with my life.

- I thought I'd add a little wrinkle to yours.
- What are you talking about?

Rebecca is abstaining from sex.

She's on some sort of sacrificial mission
to regain your friendship.

- Sort of a cock hunger strike.
- What?

Yeah. I don't fucking get it either.

I mean, if I had to choose between spending
time with your personality, or my penis,

little Sean's a hands-down winner.

Tell her she's wasting her time.
And you shouldn't worry.

The longest she's gone without having sex
is two weeks

and that's 'cause she tore her labia
while horseback riding in Maui.

I've got to get in there
and undo whatever you've done.

"Apse"?

- What the hell does that mean?
- Apse.

You know, like the front of a church.

You could have just spelled apes.

I paid for a four-year degree, Marlene.
I want to use it.

- You go to church?
- Every Sunday.

Do you go because you want to,
or out of obligation?

If you're asking if I believe in God,
then, yes, I do.

- Pray every day, too.
- What do you pray for?

Usual stuff, I guess.

For my family, for Eddie to be in heaven,
for me to join him one day

and that when I do, for it not to hurt.

I used to go to church.

My parents, they used to take Sean and me
all the time.

And then one summer, this freak tornado

took out a bunch of houses
in the town next to us

and killed the pastor and his kids.

And we stopped going.

But now that I'm a dying person,

I'm wondering
if I should reopen my spiritual options.

If there is a God,

do you think
he could bring me some sense of peace?

He's not a miracle worker.

I think God gives us problems
so we can learn to deal with them,

not so he can fix 'em.

- What's up, Mom? Hey, Marlene.
- Hey, hotshot.

I think I'll call it a night.

- Say a prayer for me, Marlene.
- Every day.

I ran into Andrea,
and she said you're an asshole.

- Any idea why she'd say that?
- Probably on the rag.

- Adam!
- We had a fight. No big deal.

Take it from someone
who's pretty good at making mistakes,

if things are bad with Andrea
because of something you did,

you should apologise.

Life's too short.

Amen.

I watched my kids play Yahtzee yesterday,
and one of the dice went off the table.

And they debated what to do
about the offending dice,

and finally agreed on a do-over.

Now I ask you,

wouldn't it be nice, as adults,
to have a do-over every now and then?

- Who wants to be free of lies and hypocrisy...
- Amen.

...and be reborn and begin again today?

- Who wants a do-over?
- Yeah.

Then speak up,
and let the congregation pray for your sins.

Pray for me, that I may be patient
and accept my son for who he is.

Amen.

Pray for me. I called bingo last week,
even though I didn't have it,

'cause I knew nobody
was coming to check the cards.

Pray for me.

Pray for me.

I've lied a lot. I just... I keep...

I keep on lying, and I'm sitting
on a huge pile of lies right now.

And I've cheated on my husband.
I've had an affair.

And it's hurt people I didn't expect it to hurt.
I did not want to hurt you. I like you.

I am really sorry.

You are important to me.
You are not just another student.

You... You make my life better,
and my life is very complicated right now.

There's some stuff that I can control,
and then there's other...

There's this other stuff that's...
It's killing me.

It's all right. It's all right.

So pray for me.

Help me, God, if there is a God.

And I hope that there is,

because I have to believe that
there's gonna be someone on the other side

who's gonna leave the light on for me
when I get there.

That someone's gonna be there
to welcome me.

- Yes.
- Yes.

Pray for me, because I have managed
to turn my once average life

into a complete fucking mess. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say "fucking."
Oh, God. Now I've said it twice.

I'll see you tomorrow at school.

You know what I've been thinking about?

Pants.

Pants?

Remember how we used to share clothes
when we were roommates?

You mean, how you used to wear my clothes
and then lie about it?

Exactly.

And there was a pair of black slacks

that had a tiny red stripe up the side
that I just loved.

You called them your date pants,
even though they were mine.

And one day you put them on
and they didn't fit you right,

and you accused me
of doing something to them

- so that they wouldn't fit you any more.
- Yeah.

I did.

I had them tailored to fit me.

I knew it. I knew it. I knew it, I knew it!

I'm a terrible friend.

You aren't a terrible friend.

I missed your fucking wedding.

I screwed up a bunch, too.
I'm not completely blameless here.

I've done a lot of crappy things in my life.
I'm trying to be better.

It takes two people to screw up a friendship.

- I promise you, from now on...
- Do not promise.

Just be you.

I've missed you, you know?

I've missed you, too.

And I miss those pants.
My ass looked fantastic in them.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Look, I just wanted to say that I didn't mean
what I said at the party last week.

I mean, I think you're cool,

and I just kind of want things
to go back to the way they were.

So we're good?

- Why don't you prove it?
- How?

- Lick my locker.
- What?

- No, that is gross.
- You ain't that sorry, then.

- That's fucking disgusting.
- You nasty little bitch.

Oh, fuck off.

It's a jar of olives.

The store didn't have any olive branches,
so this was as close as I could get.

I want to talk to you.

Actually, I've wanted to tell you something
for a long time,

but I guess I wasn't ready.

So I want to come clean with you.

Sort of a do-over.

So if you find my thong,
you can just bring it to the next rugby game.

- Tina.
- Cathy, hi.

- Can I have a minute with Paul?
- Yup. Sure. I'm gonna go.

I'll see you, Paulie.

What? No yelling? No lecture?

No judgemental condemnation
of my abhorrent behaviour?

I fucked her, Cathy. Multiple times, in fact.
I mean, why shouldn't I?

You fucked somebody,
so I fucked somebody, too.

And what do you have to say about that?

I have cancer.