The Big C (2010–2013): Season 1, Episode 7 - Two for the Road - full transcript

Previously on The Big C...

- What's this?
- I have a lump.

- Where?
- On my ass.

I realise this all isn't very sexy.

I find everything about you sexy.

What happened to you?

Someone tried to steal my sleeping bag.

I want to take care of you.
Please, let me do that.

- Sean can stay in my house, and I can't?
- He's sleeping in the yard.

- I got a hand job.
- Why did you tell me that?

- So we could get past it.
- I was past it



when I didn't know about it, Paul.

Does your new fish have a name?

Name is Shut-up-and-stop-moving-your-ass.

Okay, can I just say having a lump removed,
almost as annoying as having a lump.

An hour of surgery, a week
of changing bandages, a month of scarring.

It's not what I had in mind this summer.

But the good news is, it's taken
our relationship to a whole new level.

It's the least I can do for forgetting
to pick you up from surgery.

You know, now cancer
is literally a pain in my ass.

Aren't you afraid of dying?

I'm more afraid
of not getting everything done before I go.

Nobody has that much time.

Pull your pants up now.

You know, you're actually pretty good at this.



Yeah, well,
between my husband's colon cancer

and my youngest daughter's lipo,

I've taken care of a lot of assholes.

Your youngest daughter?

I didn't know you had any.

I've never seen anyone come in here.

I have two girls.

One of them married a Jew,
and the other one's a bull dyke.

They call me once a month, if I'm lucky.

And it's the same damn conversation
every time.

How's the house?
Am I taking my medication?

How's my hip? It's pathetic.

- What?
- Nothing.

I just feel bad for you.

Well, don't. You kicked your husband out,

your kid hates you,
and your brother's homeless.

Save your tears for yourself.

He's not homeless this week.

He's been sleeping in my backyard.

Yeah, your life's full of sunshine.

When's the last time you saw Dad?

Wow, let's see.
That would've been some time

before I started practicing
I-don't-give-a-fuck-ism.

I haven't seen him since last Christmas.

And I don't even visit him on his birthday
or Father's Day. I just send cards.

It's ridiculous.
I don't want him to think I'm avoiding him.

You are avoiding him.

- You hate Dad.
- He's not that bad, Sean.

As much as I'd love to count the ways
he took a dump on my life for you,

I really need to get going
before the lack of natural light and air in here

irreparably damages my circadian rhythm.

So,

I'd like to thank you for your somewhat toxic

but oddly charming hospitality
this past week.

We need to go see Dad.

I'd rather masturbate with a cheese grater.

Where's your suitcase?

I told you we were spending the night.

Mom, can I just sign the card,

and then you go drop me off
at the mall instead?

There is no card. It's not his birthday.
We're just visiting.

- That's lame.
- That is not a valid response, Adam.

I just got off the phone with Grandpa.

I told him we were on our way.

I'm not spending the whole day
trapped in a car with you.

- What are you doing?
- This is probably a huge mistake,

but I have unfinished business at home, too.

Happy? Uncle Sean's going,
so now there's a protective layer between us.

Go. Get your suitcase.

But I told Brent and Alex
that I'd hang out with them this weekend.

You do what you want to do.

Wait, you're just leaving me here?

Yep.

But, Mom, I'm hungry!

What am I supposed to eat?

Way to go, Sis.

It's nice to see you finally cutting
Adam's umbilical cord.

When he gets hungry enough,
his natural survival instinct will kick in,

if you haven't already beat it out of him.

Yeah, right.

Cathy, you finally decided to return my calls.
Thank you.

I didn't mean that in the snarky way.

I know sometimes I use sarcasm
as a weapon.

Are you still seeing that therapist?

I don't know, Cathy.
Am I still sleeping on my sister's couch

for no apparent reason?

That was snarky.

That's why I had to see Angela today.

You see, I'm lashing out at you because,
obviously,

I'm having a hard time coping with the fact

I went outside the bonds of marriage
for sexual gratification.

Okay, I'm gonna go visit my dad
this weekend,

so if you're not too busy getting a hand job,

would you go pick up Adam
and watch him while I'm gone?

In fairness to me, Angela says the hand job
only happened because my self is splitting.

Well, would at least one half of your self
go pick up our son? Thanks.

What's with the 12-pack?

Is that how you're intending
to get through this visit?

No, it's for Dad.

It's his favourite brand, but he never buys it
because it's too expensive.

So you're buying his love.

That's nice.

Thank you for coming with me, Sean.

I know this isn't easy for you,

and I think it is incredibly big of you
to make amends with Dad.

Make amends? With that asshole?

Fuck him!

I'm only going to dig up the time capsule
I buried in the backyard when I was 15.

Are you kidding me?

A time capsule?

Hey, don't yell at me just 'cause your little
Boring Betty brain didn't think of it.

Generally speaking, it is easier for a woman
to feel and be in her body,

so she's naturally closer to being
and potentially closer to enlightenment.

Eckhart Tolle has helped a lot of people.

Is this ball-shrinker helping you?

Is that why you're on a quest
to be the perfect daughter?

For your information, most families consider
visiting your father normal behaviour.

You really don't know, do you?

Oh, God.

I thought maybe he was doing
the same thing to you.

Maybe I was just hoping I wasn't alone.

What are you talking about?

God, Cath.

I know you've always looked up to Dad.

You've always been
his little goody two-shoes.

Frankly, I was too much of a wuss
to want to burst your bubble.

But since we are finally talking about it,
you should know.

Dad molested me.

Jesus, Sean.

Are you serious?

God, you... Don't do that!

You stop! Stop, stop, stop doing that!

You're like a really low-hanging fruit.

You're sick.

You're like a low-hanging fruit
on a dwarf fruit tree.

- All right, straight.
- Right, right, right, right.

Damn, you just got schooled, Mr Jamison.

Hey, unless you're auditing my taxes,
you call me Paul.

No, you know what, better yet, call me Paulie.

Thank you.

Dude, we gotta bounce.

- See you, man.
- How convenient,

bouncing when I'm just getting warmed up.

- This ain't over, Josh.
- Thanks, Mr... Paulie.

- Later, Adam.
- See you, guys.

I would like to propose a toast to my son

and his awesome gaming prowess.

Today, you are a man.

Yes!

What do you think you're doing?

You said I was a man now, so...

Yeah, well, unfortunately for you,
in the United States of America,

a 14-year-old man still cannot drink.

But if you're gonna drink alcohol, buddy,
I'd feel a heck of a lot better

if you do it with an adult present, okay?

So, in light of your awesome driving skills,

I hereby entitle you

to have a beer.

Seriously?

Just so you know,
I was not a goody two-shoes.

I smoked my first cigarette in Girl Scouts.

God, that conversation's so 10 miles ago.
Let it go.

All I'm saying is that we both did things
to get Dad's attention.

My thing was to be perfect.

Your thing was to be a juvenile delinquent.

My thing was more fun.

Give me a beer.

- What?
- You heard me.

Give me one of Dad's beers.

I'm thirsty, I'm tired, maybe a little tense,

and I would like to have a fucking beer

in the car!

Whatever it takes to make your personality
more tolerable.

But you drive.

Here. Here.

Wow, the last time I drove a car,
Reagan was ignoring AIDS.

That's fuel injection!

That is one amazing woman.

You and me are two lucky guys.

Yeah, real lucky, Dad.

She kicked you out of the house.

- That's fucked up.
- You're too hard on your mom.

You gotta cut her some slack.

I know she can be annoying,

but it's only 'cause you're
the most important thing in the world to her.

Hey, Dad,
wanna play another video game now?

That Cathy, she's what you call a catch.

Dad.

My friends said she might sleep with me,

"but no way in hell a gal like that
will ever marry a guy like you."

And then she did.

It was so awesome.

Doesn't your mom have amazing tits?

How'd I fuck it up so bad?

I'm so fucking fucked.

I miss her so much it hurts.

- Hey.
- Why are we stopping?

You'll see.

No fucking way.

You think this sign will fit
in the back of your car?

What?

That's just such a dingleberry thing to do.

Yeah, you probably don't have
the dingleberries to do it.

Do it.

I'm famished.

Being a sign stealer is exhausting.

- Where are you going?
- Food.

How can you do that?

Fact: over 50% of the food we harvest
in this country gets thrown away.

Fact: expiration dates are bullshit.

Fact: this box of Little Debbies
is hermetically sealed.

Do Little Debbies even have
expiration dates? I don't think so.

Golden Cremes.

God, I love Golden Cremes.

Oh. my God!

Is that a canned ham?

Made fresh today.

I can't believe I dumpster-dove.

I'm a dumpster diver.

I can't believe I'm eating trash.
It's totally weird.

Pass the carrots, please.

Now, why would they throw out
a whole box of Little Debbies?

The box was dented. Pass the peas.

You know, Mom turned me on to these?
These were her favourites.

At least till Dad told her
they were making her fat.

That jerk made sure none of us was happy
long enough to enjoy anything.

I was happy-

How could you possibly be happy
bending over backward trying to please him?

You know who managed to please Dad?

Sharon.

Pretty ballsy of him to fuck around with her
while Mom was laid up in the hospital.

Who does that?

Who cheats when you already
have somebody who loves you?

Is that it?

We don't know he had an affair.

Sure,
maybe Dad was such a fucking romantic

that he fell in love and got married
three months after Mom died.

- That's totally reasonable.
- It was 25 years ago.

Dad needed someone. Sharon was there.

You and Mom,
you both just let him shut you down.

For years, she wanted to visit New Orleans.
He wouldn't spend the money.

He married Sharon,
took her there on their honeymoon.

Sharon had hotel vouchers.

Do you hate me for trying to make peace
between you and him?

Do you hate me for trying to get
your head out of your ass?

Man, you get a lot of calls.

Slow down!

Hey, kid, are you dead?

Jesus H. Christ. Where's your mother?

It's okay.

It's okay. My dad's here. Everything's fine.

Everything is cool.

Sean!

They saw my ass.

Just so you know, tall grass,

-not ideal for a squatting woman.
- Who's Lenny?

Crap.

What the hell is this, Cathy?

You're fucking this guy?

You fucking around on Paul?

Yes.

Yes, I am.

Yes.

Jesus, Cathy, you're unbelievable.

Here I am, defending you against
your jerkwad husband for years,

and the whole time
you're having a fucking affair.

Not the whole time,
and it's not as simple as that.

Can't anybody tell the fucking truth?

You're a fucking liar and a fucking coward.

And you're just like Dad.

Still think I'm a goody two-shoes?

Still think I can't be wild and crazy?
Well, this is what it looks like, Sean.

My caution is officially thrown to the wind.

Fuck you, Cathy.

- Where are you going?
- I'm getting my time capsule.

Are you kidding me?
You're not gonna come in?

Dad!

Hi, hi.

Thank you for the ginger ale.

And I'm sorry I puked it up on your rug.

The resemblance between you
and your father is uncanny.

Go to your room
and get a good night's sleep,

'cause the first thing you're doing
in the morning is cleaning this crap up.

I know.

Wake up, you big lush!

I don't care if you're living here
or on the moon.

Being a father's not a part-time job.

You can't quit every time
you feel like tying one on.

Your kid's sick,
and this place smells like raw sewage.

Take care of it.

I'd offer you something to eat,
but Sharon's out at her bridge game.

That's okay, Dad.

Could we turn the TV off for a little bit?

I just wanted to catch up...

Honey, it's a big game.

How are you doing health-wise?

- You're still taking your Lipitor?
- Every morning.

And how's that knee?

Get that guy out of there.

Daddy.

Paul and I are separated.

Oh, boy.

You gotta work that out.

I really don't see you doing much better
than Paul.

- Excuse me?
- Sweet pea,

you have to be realistic, that's all.
You're a 44-year-old woman.

- Your options are not great.
-42.

And who knows what I can achieve?

What do you want me to say, honey?

You come here, tell me you're divorced.

No, separated. And not even officially.

If you want to achieve things,
you gotta start planning for your old age.

I'll try and keep that in mind.

Like I say, just be realistic.

Kind of thought this would go differently.

Well, you should lower your expectations.

All I expected was a conversation.

This could be the last time I see you.

Hey. Easy.

I'm not that old.

It's not always about you, Dad.

We drove a long way to visit you.

Well, you're here now.
What do you want, a party?

No, all I want is some indication
that you are happy to see me.

And that you'd be sad if I were gone.

Cathy,

I'm really happy you're here.

Welcome home.

That what you want?

So what if I had high expectations?

So what?

At least one of us had dreams for me.

No one was allowed to dream in this house.

The only dream Mom ever had
was to go to New Orleans.

But you killed that for her,
and now she's in the fireplace!

What's the matter with that? It's decorative.
We never use it.

You told me not waste that application fee
on that college that was out of state

because you didn't think that I could get in.

You made everybody just tap dance
around you for your approval.

And do you know what the sad thing is?

You have a great family.

You don't even know them.

Sean is so much more amazing
than you could ever comprehend.

He can pull an entire meal out of a dumpster.

And more than that,

he's honest.

And he cares,

which is more than I can say for you.

I came here to tell you something,
and here it is.

I love you,

and you're an asshole.

What the hell do you want?

What's the score, asshole?

Minnesota's ahead 5 to 2, jackass.

Wow.

1982.

This is gonna be totally rad!

Now, that is a thing-0-beauty.

That's it?

That's your entire time capsule?

What, a Polaroid and a 28-year-old doobie?

Takes me back.

Who is this?

What does she have in her mouth...

Is that your penis?

Gross, Sean!

Yeah, the '80s really sucked for me.

HEY

that wasn't half bad,
what you said about me at Dad's.

- Don't let it go to your head.
- You mean the fact

that you think I'm amazing?

Bon voyage, Mom.

First-class trip down the Mississippi.

She'll be in New Orleans by Monday.

Covered in British oil.

You want to be cremated when you die?

I just want to be left out to be eaten
by coyotes.

I know, logically,
it makes sense to be cremated,

but I just can't get past the fact
that you're being burned,

and how painful that would be
if by some fluke you could feel it.

I don't know, maybe burial.

I don't know. It's hard to decide.

What's the big rush?
It's not like you're gonna die tomorrow.

I'm sick, Sean.

I know. Aren't we all?

I have cancer.

What?

I'm sorry to blurt it out like that.

When I say it in my head,
it sounds a lot more eloquent,

but it turns out,
quiet dignity is hard to do out loud.

So, that's it.

I have cancer.

Melanoma, to be exact, and I'm dying.

Are you gonna do anything about it?

Other than eat more sweets, not really.

I've looked into it.

The options aren't good.

Jesus, Cathy.

Jesus!

Well, okay.

Okay.

Okay.

Well, people die.

It's a guarantee.

Something is going to get you.

Now you know what it is. Me, I'm in the dark.

But people die.

That's the way it works, people...
You're just...

You're gonna die, and it's gonna suck

because I was just starting
to figure you out, Sis.

You know? I was just...

I was just starting to understand

that you're the only thing
I have in this world.

Oh, God!

Oh, God!

You think I'm a low-hanging fruit?

You should see your face right now.

Wait. What, are you fucking with me?

You're good.

God, I nearly...

I really...l mean, you almost...

That was good!

Why don't we spark up that doobie?

Yes.