The Big C (2010–2013): Season 1, Episode 11 - New Beginnings - full transcript

Previously on The Big C...

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

Cathy and I are getting a divorce.

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

You fucked somebody,
so I fucked somebody, too.

And what do you have to say about that?

I have cancer.

Now, if any of you get into credit card debt
after I have spent the past hour

telling you everything I know
about how to avoid it,

then shame on you.

And do not use your birthday as
a PIN number.



Got it?

Paul.

What are you doing here?

In solidarity.

What are you doing?

I know that chemo will eventually
take your beautiful, golden tresses,

but I will be your bald twin.

No, Paul, don't. No.

Stop! Paul, no!

I'm not doing chemo!

What do you mean?

Do you mean now or at all?

It's not a good treatment for stage four.

It'll just make me weak and nauseous,
so I decided not to do it.



Well, if you're not doing chemo,
what are you doing?

Living my life.

Are you serious?

'Cause that sounds
pretty fucking ridiculous to me.

I mean, living your life?
Anybody can do that.

I'm also... I'm waiting for a clinical trial.

You're waiting for somebody else
to figure something out?

I've been up all night
reading about things we can do now.

Like coffee enemas. Are you doing that yet?

'Cause we can do that as soon as
you brew a fucking pot of coffee.

Are you drinking breast milk?
They say that reverses symptoms.

- What?
- Of course, we'll need a nursing mother,

but that's why
you should have told me this earlier,

'cause we'd have figured something out.

But now, you know,
you kept me in the dark all this time,

and now you're three months sicker!

Paul, it's not an easy thing to say.

It doesn't just roll off the tongue.

What?

Your hair.

Oh, shit.

Hi! I'm Jackie.

- Wow! Somebody got a bad haircut.
- Actually, he did it to himself.

Actually, cancer did it to me.

Oh, my God! I get so many people

who come in because
they start the chemo-shave,

and then they just can't finish it.

- Yeah.
- What kind do you have?

Melanoma.

Boy, that just rolled right off, didn't it?

That feels really good to just say.

That's a tricky one.
My partner's cousin had melanoma.

Really?
Did your partner's cousin try coffee enemas?

Yes, she did. Once a week.
Are you eating apricots?

- Should I be?
- Yes.

Twenty apricots a day. They say it's a cure.

For what? Pooping?

Aren't you funny?

Well, how's she doing?

They gave her six months.

It's been three years,
and she's still hanging on.

Fantastic.

I'm gonna go get my special snippers,
and I'll be right back.

Thank you.

Well, too bad Jackie and I aren't married.

With our attitude and ideas,
might actually be able to beat this thing.

Maybe I should quit seeing my oncologist
and just write down everything Jackie says.

Can I ask you a question?
Does your oncologist

wear a long, black robe and have no face,

and, you know, carry around a scythe?

- What?
- You know, my grandpa used to

keep one in his barn, to cut hay with.

Apparently, yours uses it
to poke holes in people

- so all their hope drains out.
- All right, stop it.

- You sound crazy.
- I am.

I'm crazy with cancer.

Honey, you've got to keep trying things,
if not for yourself,

at least for me and Adam.

- When does this get to be about me?
- It's been about you all summer.

So how about we just try it my way for,
I don't know, a couple, three days?

And what way would that be?

Blabbing about it to every Tom, Dick
and hairdresser who will listen? Why?

It feels good to talk about things.
You should try it sometime.

If I tell people,
then I have to deal with their feelings,

like yours now.

It's a lot!

I am your husband,

and I am entitled
to have some feelings about this!

So, incidentally, is your son,

and we're gonna have to clue him in soon,

and, yes, he's gonna have feelings, too.

We agreed not to tell him yet.

Look, I don't know how I'm gonna be
around Adam with this information

and not tell him.
I don't know how I'm gonna do that.

Paul, do not tell him.

I don't want him to know I'm sick
until I seem sick.

Well, maybe if you just have
a coffee fucking enema,

and pop a few apricots,
you won't have to tell him at all!

I got my special snippers.

- Hi.
- Hi!

This is a nice surprise.

- How's Adam doing?
- He's fine.

You know, he's made a full recovery,
and I'm hoping that his mild concussion

will result in improved math skills.

Your heart rate's really high.

It's probably because I did a coffee enema.

- You did a what?
- I have never had so much energy.

It is... It's amazing!

You know, I used to think

that the alternative world was just
full of crystals and crazies,

but, you know, I went online
and I've got to say,

a lot of this stuff makes sense.

Have you heard of a bee-sting treatment

- for cancer?
- Heard of it.

Yeah, there's this doctor in Canada
who does it,

and you get stung by a lot of bees,

and it throws your immune system
into overdrive,

and there's this one guy...

This one guy... Look.
He was cured spontaneously.

I mean, that's amazing.

And I was thinking, you know,
maybe I should just go visit Canada.

I mean, it's so close.

You're not seriously thinking
about doing this, are you?

What? Are you trying to keep me sick?
Do you have Munchausen by proxy?

Look, I don't dismiss
the alternative world completely.

All right, acupuncture,
biofeedback, meditation,

a lot of my patients use them as supplements
to what they're doing with western medicine.

To supplement, but not to cure?

To make themselves feel better.

Boy,

you really know how to
suck the caffeine out of a girl.

And by the way,
I took your advice and told Paul.

How'd he take it?

He cut his hair.

God, that's a lot of caffeine!

Maybe I should go jog home.

Hey, Dad.

- Hey, buddy. How's the soccer game, man?
- Good.

What did you do to your head?

That's my summer cut.

You don't like my summer cut?
You need a trim.

- Actually, I need a water. You want a water?
- No, I'm good.

- You good?
- Yeah.

Hey, Josh and his dad
rented this house on Gull Lake to go fishing.

They said it was awesome.
They caught, like, this 15-pound walleye.

You know what?
You know, we should do that, Dad.

Just the boys. Just us.

With Mom, it'd be all,
"Let's pose for pictures."

Yeah, "Let's eat nutritious meals for dinner,

- "because we can't have..."
- No. No.

If we go somewhere,
your mother comes with us.

Do you understand me?

Whatever we do from now on,
we do as a family.

But why?

Because, your mother has

camping recipes that she really is
eager for us to try. That's why.

- Dad, what the hell is wrong with you?
- Get out of the car, buddy.

- What?
- Get out of the car.

- I gotta go back to work.
- I gotta get new cleats.

I left something at work.
So you're gonna have to walk, pal.

Are you serious?
Dad, the mall's eight blocks from here.

It's the summertime. Get a little exercise.
It's good for you. I'm sorry, pal. My bad.

- Off you go.
- Seriously, Dad?

I've got to get out of here. Sorry.

I have a gift for you.

Really?
Is it hidden somewhere inside that robe?

Can I look for it?

I have something to tell you.
I spoke to my company,

and they're changing my sales region
to Minneapolis.

I'm moving here.

Why?

Okay. Not the reaction I was expecting.

I'm sorry. Cool.

Why?

Well, I like the area,

and I've been feeling ready
for a change lately,

- and you're here.
- For now,

but I could hop a train at any second

or flow like the river down south or wherever.

Why are you getting all weird?
I thought you'd be excited.

You got me a mug that says,
"Welcome to Minnesota."

What was I supposed to infer from that?

I found that mug in the dumpster.

You're supposed to infer from that
that the person who threw that mug away

didn't love it here.
So why the hell should you move?

I'm not asking you for a fucking ring.

I just thought that I would be closer,

so we could keep doing
what we've been doing,

and see where it goes.

Look, I don't want to be rude,

but I'm just telling you
don't move here for me.

God, you are such a cunt!

- What?
- You are really hurting my feelings!

I lowered my fucking bar for you!

Please tell me this is foreplay.

I can't believe
that I ever saw anything in you,

and I want you the hell out!

Just get the hell out!

- She can't sing.
- No, she cannot.

- She can't sing.
- No, she cannot.

You mind if I bum one of those?

Of course. Here.

- Thanks, man.
- I got a light here.

Appreciate it.

I'm Paul. I work in Creative.

- Hi. I'm Morgan.
- Hey, Morgan.

- And this is Brian.
- Hi, Brian. How are you?

- Good.
- We are your accounting rats.

So sometimes I do your expense reports.

You eat a lot of pasta.

Are you okay there, buddy?

What? Yeah.

Actually, no.

My wife has cancer.
I just found out yesterday.

Shit, dude. I'm sorry to hear that.

Yeah, cancer's a motherfucker.

Tell me about it.
Doesn't make any sense, you know?

She does everything right.

I'm the one who hadn't been to
the gym in three years,

and eats Slim Jims for breakfast.

God, it's everywhere.

I mean, isn't there that woman over in HR
whose husband has cancer?

Sharon, I think. Or Cheryl.

It's like a pandemic, you know?

Or endemic. What is it? Epidemic?

I...

That sounds right.

- She's in HR, this woman, you say?
- Yeah.

I told you
not to get involved with Sean, Rebecca.

It's not that I can't handle the break-up.
It's just...

And I know this is gonna sound strange,

but Sean and I have

this weird connection
that was starting to make sense.

He challenged me,
and I was starting to get through to him.

You weren't.

Trying to save Sean is a slippery slope.
I have wasted precious time on that project.

Anyway.

I tried to get my job back,

but apparently,
they're downsizing the Chicago region,

so I'm moving here.

Well, three months out of the year
in Minneapolis,

absolutely bearable.

I can hear you two cackling hens
from my house.

Either the mail guy screwed up again,
or he's just real invested in getting us to talk.

Little early to be getting boozy, isn't it?

We're just drowning our sorrows, Marlene.
You want to join us?

Nah. I got coupons to a new place
with a free buffet I'm gonna check out.

If you haven't had lunch yet,

I got a couple twofers,
if you want to come along.

Fuck Sean! I'm in!

- Cheryl?
- Yeah?

- Hi, I'm Paul Jamison. I work over in Creative.
- Hi.

I'm being very forward here.

I heard about what you're going through,

and I just found out yesterday
that my wife has cancer,

and I was wondering
if I could talk to you about it.

- Is that your husband?
- Yeah.

Well. Well, he's got a fantastic head of hair.

My hair's usually a lot longer than this.

But anyway, I just thought it was so great

that there's two people here in the office
that are going through this at the same time.

Not great, but, you know, convenient.

Not even convenient. Serendipitous.
Is that the word I'm looking for?

I wish that I could stay and talk,
but I really have to get to a meeting.

Okay. Well, maybe later this afternoon?

- Could I come by later this afternoon?
- Yeah, great.

- Let's shoot for later.
- Fantastic.

I'll just leave my number on your desk,
okay, Cheryl?

Yeah, that's fine.

- Okay.
- I don't think so.

Welcome to Shakes and Buns, ladies.

We put the buff in "buffet."

What the hell kind of place is this?

It's the kind of place that serves penis pops.

- Lollicocks.
- No, thank you.

- I'm good.
- I'll take 'em.

Marlene, we don't have to stay here.

I just paid a $5 cover.

I'm not going anywhere
until I get something to eat.

Lady's got to eat, you know?

The buses are always late.

- Really?
- Well, unless they're early.

It's supposed to be here in 10 minutes,

but during the summer,
the schedules are like, really fucked.

You're not a bus person, are you?

Not really.

My mom's out with her friends,
and my dad's late,

so I'm just checking out my options.

Are your parents divorced?

No. No, just separated.

I hate to break it to you,

but that's code for
they're never getting back together.

Once they move out,
they never really move back in.

- Are your parents divorced?
- Yeah.

Now my mom's marrying
some total hand job.

That sucks.

Whatever.

They're so into their new lives,
I can basically do whatever I want.

Look at this.

I've had it for six months,
and they haven't even noticed.

Really? That's awesome.

Yeah, I've been thinking about
getting a tattoo.

I just haven't thought of a good design yet.

I want to get a Fuku Riu dragon right here.

It's a Japanese good luck symbol.

Hey, your parents would
probably notice that.

I doubt it.

Give me your arm.

- What?
- Give me your arm.

Okay. Now, don't wash this,

and see how long it takes
your parents to notice.

Hey, you're a good drawer.

Thanks.

Where do you live?

I'm about a mile that way.

I live that way, too. Do you want to walk?

Sure.

I'm so annoyed.

I was speaking to my future husband
over there at the bar,

and after about 15 minutes,
the conversation suddenly turned real gay.

What? That surprises you?

- He's wearing velcroed star-spangled shorts.
- That's a costume.

Do not look for your future husband
in a strip club.

I wonder what Sean's doing right now.

If you're gonna
play that broken record again,

I'm gonna go get more hot wings.

Cheryl, there you are.

Cheryl? I must have missed your call.
Do you want to...

Should we talk on the way to our cars?

Shoot. Actually, I just remembered
I have to get some office supplies.

Well, you know, we don't have to do it today.
Do you want to...

Is today not a good day?
Do you want to do it tomorrow?

- We can talk tomorrow.
- There's not gonna be a good time.

Look, I am sorry about your wife. I am.
But what do you want me to talk about?

How horrendous it was watching
the person I love most in this world,

fighting for his life and knowing
that I couldn't do a damn thing about it?

Over the past three years,
Gary lost 48 pounds,

all of his hair and most of his dignity,

and I just had to sit there,

pretending to be normal and cheerful
while he wasted away, week after week.

It got so bad, I prayed.

I prayed every night that he would just die
and put us both out of our misery.

And finally, he did, last month,

so excuse me for not wanting to talk about it,

because that means reliving it and I...

I barely made it through the first time.

I'm sorry I can't make you feel better.

Now, this one's my favourite.

You say that about every guy.

Yeah, but this one really knows his way
around a chair.

Okay, ladies, everybody having a good time?

All right, all my single girls,
let me see you put your hands in the air.

What? You're separated.
Hop, skip from a single girl.

No, I do not want to be
a single girl in a strip club.

Too late.

Okay, now put your hands under your chairs,

and the lucky girl that finds the key
come up and see me.

Thank you.

Did you see that waiter?

If you give him just a quick glance,
he could be Sean's twin. Do it.

Just a quick glance. Just real quick. Do it.
Just, real quick.

Rebecca? Rebecca, you need to go back to
before you were straddling my brother

on a washing machine in my house,
and he was just another homeless man,

because he is not the guy for you, okay?

And maybe there's never gonna be a guy,

so you need to just give up
on that version of your life

because it's probably not gonna happen.

And whether you know it or not,
your life is pretty fucking great.

You need to realise that before you die
and maggots eat your eyeballs out.

Jesus, Cathy. You used to be the optimist.

Hey, you've got the key.

She's got the key!

We've got a winner!

Oh, my God! I won? Oh, I don't believe it.
I never win anything.

I have the key!

We have got a treat for you.

Now use your key and open the box.

Oh, God!

Oh, just take it off!

You must be very proud of yourself.
You're very talented.

You bring a lot of joy to people.
That's really nice.

Okay, I'm done. Thank you.

I'm sorry,

I'm sorry I got so dark.

I have vodka and caffeine
chasing each other around my body.

It's okay.
I do need to just be quiet for a while,

but don't steal my hope, Cath. It's all I have.

Marlene, what are you doing?

I can't find my damn purse.
Will you help me find my purse?

Sure. You know, I think I saw it inside.

Why don't we go in and look for it?

You're very sweet.

Who are you?

It's Cathy.

Here.

When did you get here?

I've been here all night.

I made some tea.

Thanks.

Do you know who I am?

Of course I do.

I'm not stupid. I just have Alzheimer's.

Adam said you were confused
after my birthday party.

He thought you'd had too much to drink.

I wish that were my problem.

Why didn't you tell anyone?

You're a fine one to talk,
Miss Secret Cancer Pants.

I just didn't see much point
in telling people anyway.

It is what it is.
There's nothing I can do about it.

I'm really sorry.

So I lose a few memories here and there.

I'm living in the moment. That's what counts.

I get why you didn't want to tell me.

Telling people sucks.

I also get why,
maybe, you needed to kick me out,

so you could be alone for a while.

You and Lenny,
I'm not quite clear on that one yet,

but, you know, maybe someday.

- Hey, Mom. What's up, Dad?
- Hey, buddy.

Me and the guys are
gonna go skateboarding,

and then we're gonna get
something to eat later.

- Sure. Just don't stay out too late.
- Okay.

And make sure you wash that
ridiculous thing off your arm before you go.

Is that your suitcase?

Yep, and my sock drawer.

Are you home?

Yes, I am home.

I won something last night.

Congratulations. What'd you win?

Let's just say it was something big
and leave it at that.

But there were 200 other sad,
desperate women who could have won.

Well, I don't know. I mean, maybe more.
It was dark and loud,

but the point is, I won.

The odds were against me,

and yet I was the lady who won.

And if something like that could happen,

then maybe I could beat other odds, too.

So I'm gonna take a chance,
and I'm going to start with bee-sting therapy.

Now, I know it is probably a sucker's bet,
but it's something.

It's something.

I used to be an optimist.

I want to be that again.

I'm sorry, Cathy.
I don't really know what you want me to say.

I want you to say, "Go for it!

"Good luck! I hope you win!"

I hope you win.