Two and a Half Men (2003–2015): Season 2, Episode 21 - A Sympathetic Crotch to Cry On - full transcript
The brothers are surprised their hated ma Evelyn has any feelings, but are dragged along to the funeral of Harry, one of her exes she made them call 'dad'. Harpers will be Harpers, though: mother sees in every death an opportunity for real estate business, Charlie sees good-looking women as trophies to drag to his bed. Evelyn delivers the eulogy, which insults everybody, most of all by calling Harry's young widow a slut. Jake loses a computer toy in the casket, which daddy Alan has to retrieve.
Jake, use your spoon.
Can't. I'll die.
If you don't turn off that music,
you'll die anyway.
Fine.
That's better.
He's still gonna be living here
when he's, like, 30.
My big fear is he'll still be
in fifth grade.
Hello, anybody home?
Grandmommy's here.
There's my grandson.
So, Mom, to what do we owe
this unexpected...
- Pleasure?
- No, that's not it.
I was showing a house, and
I thought I'd visit the people I love.
And they weren't home?
Goody. There's a Tudor on Stone Canyon
that's going on the market soon.
- How do you know?
- Owner dropped dead of a heart attack.
You know what they say, darling.
Today's obituary
is tomorrow's exclusive listing.
Father of five in Westwood.
I'm on fire.
You will be soon.
Mom, you're not setting
a very good example here.
Why?
Jake, honey, your grandmommy performs
a very important public service.
When people die,
their families are very, very sad...
...and they have no idea
what their homes are worth.
And you tell them?
Oh, you are so cute.
And Grandmommy doesn't just
prey on the dead, Jake.
She also profits from the pain of divorce
and the humiliation of bankruptcy.
Not to mention she's working on an
alternative fuel made from puppies.
Oh, my God. Harry Gorsky died.
Oh, no. Are you sure it's him?
How many Harry Luther Gorskys
are there in Los Angeles?
- Well, there's one less now.
- Who are you talking about?
He was Uncle Charlie's
and my stepdad.
- The first of three, and not my favorite.
- I liked him.
Oh, please. You were 6.
You still liked Mom.
- Mom, are you okay?
- No, I'm not okay.
He was a good man...
...and part of my life,
and now he's gone.
I just pray he died peacefully...
...and held on to that stately
six-bedroom, four-bath Colonial...
...in Hancock Park...
...with the bonus office/guest room
over the garage.
Let me get this straight.
First there was your dad,
then this guy Harry who died...
...then the fat guy
with the carpet business.
No, no, no. The fat guy came after
the twitchy gay guy from Texas...
...who gave us crew cuts
and called us buckaroos.
So out of the three...
...Harry was the best.
- I liked the fat guy, remember?
With the chubby daughter
who was so grateful?
All you had to do was knock on her door
with some Turkish Taffy.
Be that as it may,
he was still a very good father to us.
Oh, please. He was a little tyrant.
"Sit up straight."
"Do your homework."
"Quit forging my signature
on hotel bills."
Okay, then. The funeral is tomorrow.
I think it would be appropriate for us all
to go and pay our respects.
I don't know.
Tomorrow's not good for me.
Oh, Charlie. The man was your father.
No, he was not.
Why do you care so much?
You divorced him.
Just because you divorce doesn't mean
you no longer have feelings.
That's true.
Judith still has feelings for me.
Pity is not really a feeling, Alan.
Regardless of our feelings, we'll still go
and say our final goodbyes to Harry.
- I'm not going.
- Me neither.
- Fine, you stay here with Uncle Charlie.
- Cool.
Yeah, cool.
Why do you wanna go?
I think it's the right thing to do,
and I liked Harry.
- And he liked you.
- I know.
We've stayed in touch over the years.
What?
You betrayed me by communicating with
that son of a bitch after I divorced him?
Well, wait a minute.
You said that...
I know what I said.
I was just being polite because
the guy's worm chow.
All I did was send him Christmas cards
and a picture of Jake.
- You never send me a picture of Jake.
- He's right here.
When was the last time
I got a Christmas card?
Wait, I'm on your side.
Charlie's the one who doesn't wanna go.
I don't even know if I want
you to come now. You've ruined it.
- How can you ruin a funeral?
- I don't wanna talk about it anymore.
- Where are you going?
- I need something black.
Doesn't your soul qualify?
Laugh now, but when I die,
I will be coming back to haunt you.
How will that be any different
than this?
Okay, Jake.
I'm going to pick up your grandmother.
Okay.
You think maybe
you've played that enough?
Okay.
I might as well just buy him
a crack pipe.
Hey!
- Let's get this over with.
- You're coming to the funeral?
I thought about it and realized,
even if I didn't like the guy...
...that shouldn't stop me from
going to his funeral...
...and, you know, taking a victory lap.
Charlie, you're not
gonna wanna hear this...
...but you sound a lot like Mom.
Tread lightly.
- Jake, you're coming with us.
- I don't wanna.
You get to see a real dead guy.
There's gonna be a dead guy? Where?
- At the funeral.
- Oh, cool. Can I come?
Did I say he was gonna
live here until 30?
I meant forever.
What are you talking about?
- Go put on your nice clothes.
- Okay.
He doesn't know
what nice clothes are.
- Jake?
- Oh, right.
Isn't it a little early to start drinking?
- Would you like a snort?
- That's what I meant.
Thanks.
You okay, Mom?
I just can't believe he's gone.
Isn't that why we're going
to the funeral? To make sure?
I'm confused. If you cared for Harry
so much, how come you left him?
Yes, well, about that.
I may have glossed over the details
with you boys just a skosh.
I didn't actually leave Harry
so much as he left me.
- You're kidding.
- He met a younger woman...
...and just traded me in.
You still loved him, didn't you?
I loved him very much.
Oh, Harry. My sweet, dear Harry.
All right. Level eight.
So where's the dead guy?
Jake, show a little respect.
Where's the dead guy, sir?
In the chapel. Now keep it down.
I think I can smell him.
Oh, Lord. There she is.
- Who?
- The tramp who stole my husband.
Not bad.
Not good.
I'm gonna go mourn.
- Yeah, me too.
- Stay put. Mommy needs you.
- Hello, Evelyn.
- Hello, Christine.
- This is my son, Alan.
- Hello.
And who's this little guy?
Your grandson?
I'm just here to see the dead guy.
Yes, I've been blessed with
both children and grandchildren.
How about you? Oh, wait, I remember.
You were slightly less fertile
than a sand trap.
We're very sorry for your loss.
It's not my loss.
He left me for that tramp over there.
She doesn't look very unhappy,
does she?
She just met him. Wait a week.
I think it's the responsibility of we,
the living, to carry on...
...to live life to the fullest.
Embrace it.
Kiss it on the mouth, if you will.
Excuse me, Charlie,
can I talk to you for a minute?
Sure. Heather,
this is my brother, Alan.
He lives with me
at my beach house in Malibu.
- Hi.
- I'm sorry for your loss.
- Thank you.
- Alan came to live with me...
...at my Malibu beach house
when he lost his wife.
It's a healing house.
My wife isn't really dead.
Because you healed.
At my Malibu beach house.
And when you think about it,
Harry isn't really dead either.
He lives right here...
...in all of us.
- Thank you.
- Good. Let go.
It's good to let go.
Charlie.
Excuse me a moment.
What, what, what, what, what?
What do you mean,
"What, what, what"?
- You're hitting on the widow.
- No, I'm consoling the widow.
I won't hit on her
until they close the lid.
Unbelievable.
How do you sleep at night?
Usually drunk and on top of somebody.
But that takes work, Alan.
Doesn't just happen by itself.
Here's an idea. Why don't you run
to the embalming room...
...and see if you can score a couple
fresh ones off the truck?
Excuse me,
but considering your ex-wife...
...I'd say you're the expert on having sex
with cold women who don't move.
Nevertheless, you can
hit on women anywhere.
Why did you bother to come?
I don't know. I just did.
- That's it? No reason?
- Do you have a reason for everything?
- Yes.
- So how's that working out for you?
I know how difficult it must be...
...rambling around all by yourself in that
big, drafty, six-bedroom Colonial...
...with the guest room/office
over the garage.
Harry gave me a potbellied pig.
So you'd remember him, sure.
But I know Harry would want you
to move on...
...and this is the perfect time
to move on...
...because this is a seller's market.
- Excuse me.
Can we talk to you a minute?
Pardon me, dear.
What? I'm working here.
That woman just lost her husband.
Alan, the man was 50 years old
when she was born.
- So?
- So she had to see it coming.
Even for you, that is really cold.
Oh, Mr. Graveside Nookie weighs in.
You were trying to give the widow
a sympathetic crotch to cry on.
Hey, watch your mouth.
This is a solemn event.
Yeah, show a little class.
Me? I'm the only one here
behaving appropriately.
Hey, where's Jake?
- Jake.
- How do you know my name?
- It's okay.
- Okay?
I almost pooped my pants.
What are you doing?
I just wanted to see.
Okay, well, let's... Let's take a look.
- Really?
- Yeah. Come on.
- What do you think?
- I don't know.
- How did he die?
- He just got old.
His heart stopped.
His watch is still going.
- Yep.
- Why would he need a watch, anyway?
It's not like he's gonna be
late for anything.
Okay, there are other people waiting
to pay their respects.
Why don't we go find Grandma?
I don't care what anybody says.
I always thought you were a good guy.
Thanks, Alan.
Want to know what time it is?
Let's go.
- How's he look?
- Dead.
Cool.
Surprise.
Listen, I just wanted to tell you
that I've been thinking about it...
...and maybe some of the stuff
between us may have been my fault.
I was angry about losing my dad,
and I guess...
...you were the guy I took it out on.
Anyway, not that it makes
a lot of difference at this point...
...but I just wanted you to know
that I'm sorry.
By the way, I'm gonna take a shot
at your wife.
But that's just a guy thing.
Nothing personal, okay?
I'll take that as a yes.
And so with every door that God closes,
he opens a window.
Did he say "window" or "widow"?
Even as we say goodbye
to our beloved friend...
...Harry Luther Gorsky...
...we know that he lives on
in all of us.
- How are you holding up?
- Okay.
- Lf you need anything, I'm right here.
- Thank you. That's very comforting.
For everything, there is a season.
A time to be born, a time to die.
A time to reap, a time to sow.
So...
...I would like to invite anyone...
...who wishes to say a few words
about Harry...
...to come up and share with us.
As always, I'll do him first.
- Mom, bad idea.
- Hey...
...if I didn't give in to bad ideas,
you wouldn't be here. Hold this.
Dad. I can't find my Gameboy.
Not now, Jake.
Hello. Welcome to Harry's funeral.
I haven't seen him so drained
of bodily fluids since our honeymoon.
What? I thought I'd open with a joke.
My name is Evelyn Harper...
...or, as dear Harry used to call me,
his sweet little sugar tushy.
When I first met Harry...
...I was just a hot young widow
with bills to pay...
...who could lick the chrome
off a trailer hitch.
I also had two small boys...
...one of whom Harry cared for
very deeply.
The other one was Charlie.
It wasn't easy being
a substitute father...
...but Harry gave it his all.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough...
...which is probably why
he looked for solace...
...in the arms of a cheap slut.
Stand up, Christine.
Let everybody have a look at you.
Take a good look, Heather.
That's gonna be you someday.
Oh, I'm sorry. I'm being disrespectful
to the grieving widow.
But, listen, you wanna talk grieving?
I'm grieving.
I loved this man with all my heart,
and you left me, you lousy bastard.
Well, take a good look.
I've still got a great ass...
...and yours is decomposing
as we speak.
Thank you.
- Okay. That was beautiful.
- Time to go.
I'll call you.
- Dad, what about my Gameboy?
- Forget it. Just keep walking.
And so let's take a moment
of silent prayer for our friend, Harry.
I am really, really sorry.
Got it.
It's my kid's. I don't know,
maybe I spoil him.
Okay, bye.
Boys, when I die...
...I want a simple funeral.
No tears.
- Done.
- You got it.
And I wanna be buried
next to your father.
Dad was cremated, Mom.
Oh, yes, right.
I was thinking of someone else.
So I take it you'd rather be
buried than cremated?
Oh, can't we do both?
I want to be buried
on the side of a hill...
...nestled amongst the willows,
overlooking the ocean.
Do we get to pick the ocean?
And I want an unadorned headstone,
which reads simply:
"Evelyn Harper.
Loving wife, devoted mother."
That's good. Open with a joke.
Can't. I'll die.
If you don't turn off that music,
you'll die anyway.
Fine.
That's better.
He's still gonna be living here
when he's, like, 30.
My big fear is he'll still be
in fifth grade.
Hello, anybody home?
Grandmommy's here.
There's my grandson.
So, Mom, to what do we owe
this unexpected...
- Pleasure?
- No, that's not it.
I was showing a house, and
I thought I'd visit the people I love.
And they weren't home?
Goody. There's a Tudor on Stone Canyon
that's going on the market soon.
- How do you know?
- Owner dropped dead of a heart attack.
You know what they say, darling.
Today's obituary
is tomorrow's exclusive listing.
Father of five in Westwood.
I'm on fire.
You will be soon.
Mom, you're not setting
a very good example here.
Why?
Jake, honey, your grandmommy performs
a very important public service.
When people die,
their families are very, very sad...
...and they have no idea
what their homes are worth.
And you tell them?
Oh, you are so cute.
And Grandmommy doesn't just
prey on the dead, Jake.
She also profits from the pain of divorce
and the humiliation of bankruptcy.
Not to mention she's working on an
alternative fuel made from puppies.
Oh, my God. Harry Gorsky died.
Oh, no. Are you sure it's him?
How many Harry Luther Gorskys
are there in Los Angeles?
- Well, there's one less now.
- Who are you talking about?
He was Uncle Charlie's
and my stepdad.
- The first of three, and not my favorite.
- I liked him.
Oh, please. You were 6.
You still liked Mom.
- Mom, are you okay?
- No, I'm not okay.
He was a good man...
...and part of my life,
and now he's gone.
I just pray he died peacefully...
...and held on to that stately
six-bedroom, four-bath Colonial...
...in Hancock Park...
...with the bonus office/guest room
over the garage.
Let me get this straight.
First there was your dad,
then this guy Harry who died...
...then the fat guy
with the carpet business.
No, no, no. The fat guy came after
the twitchy gay guy from Texas...
...who gave us crew cuts
and called us buckaroos.
So out of the three...
...Harry was the best.
- I liked the fat guy, remember?
With the chubby daughter
who was so grateful?
All you had to do was knock on her door
with some Turkish Taffy.
Be that as it may,
he was still a very good father to us.
Oh, please. He was a little tyrant.
"Sit up straight."
"Do your homework."
"Quit forging my signature
on hotel bills."
Okay, then. The funeral is tomorrow.
I think it would be appropriate for us all
to go and pay our respects.
I don't know.
Tomorrow's not good for me.
Oh, Charlie. The man was your father.
No, he was not.
Why do you care so much?
You divorced him.
Just because you divorce doesn't mean
you no longer have feelings.
That's true.
Judith still has feelings for me.
Pity is not really a feeling, Alan.
Regardless of our feelings, we'll still go
and say our final goodbyes to Harry.
- I'm not going.
- Me neither.
- Fine, you stay here with Uncle Charlie.
- Cool.
Yeah, cool.
Why do you wanna go?
I think it's the right thing to do,
and I liked Harry.
- And he liked you.
- I know.
We've stayed in touch over the years.
What?
You betrayed me by communicating with
that son of a bitch after I divorced him?
Well, wait a minute.
You said that...
I know what I said.
I was just being polite because
the guy's worm chow.
All I did was send him Christmas cards
and a picture of Jake.
- You never send me a picture of Jake.
- He's right here.
When was the last time
I got a Christmas card?
Wait, I'm on your side.
Charlie's the one who doesn't wanna go.
I don't even know if I want
you to come now. You've ruined it.
- How can you ruin a funeral?
- I don't wanna talk about it anymore.
- Where are you going?
- I need something black.
Doesn't your soul qualify?
Laugh now, but when I die,
I will be coming back to haunt you.
How will that be any different
than this?
Okay, Jake.
I'm going to pick up your grandmother.
Okay.
You think maybe
you've played that enough?
Okay.
I might as well just buy him
a crack pipe.
Hey!
- Let's get this over with.
- You're coming to the funeral?
I thought about it and realized,
even if I didn't like the guy...
...that shouldn't stop me from
going to his funeral...
...and, you know, taking a victory lap.
Charlie, you're not
gonna wanna hear this...
...but you sound a lot like Mom.
Tread lightly.
- Jake, you're coming with us.
- I don't wanna.
You get to see a real dead guy.
There's gonna be a dead guy? Where?
- At the funeral.
- Oh, cool. Can I come?
Did I say he was gonna
live here until 30?
I meant forever.
What are you talking about?
- Go put on your nice clothes.
- Okay.
He doesn't know
what nice clothes are.
- Jake?
- Oh, right.
Isn't it a little early to start drinking?
- Would you like a snort?
- That's what I meant.
Thanks.
You okay, Mom?
I just can't believe he's gone.
Isn't that why we're going
to the funeral? To make sure?
I'm confused. If you cared for Harry
so much, how come you left him?
Yes, well, about that.
I may have glossed over the details
with you boys just a skosh.
I didn't actually leave Harry
so much as he left me.
- You're kidding.
- He met a younger woman...
...and just traded me in.
You still loved him, didn't you?
I loved him very much.
Oh, Harry. My sweet, dear Harry.
All right. Level eight.
So where's the dead guy?
Jake, show a little respect.
Where's the dead guy, sir?
In the chapel. Now keep it down.
I think I can smell him.
Oh, Lord. There she is.
- Who?
- The tramp who stole my husband.
Not bad.
Not good.
I'm gonna go mourn.
- Yeah, me too.
- Stay put. Mommy needs you.
- Hello, Evelyn.
- Hello, Christine.
- This is my son, Alan.
- Hello.
And who's this little guy?
Your grandson?
I'm just here to see the dead guy.
Yes, I've been blessed with
both children and grandchildren.
How about you? Oh, wait, I remember.
You were slightly less fertile
than a sand trap.
We're very sorry for your loss.
It's not my loss.
He left me for that tramp over there.
She doesn't look very unhappy,
does she?
She just met him. Wait a week.
I think it's the responsibility of we,
the living, to carry on...
...to live life to the fullest.
Embrace it.
Kiss it on the mouth, if you will.
Excuse me, Charlie,
can I talk to you for a minute?
Sure. Heather,
this is my brother, Alan.
He lives with me
at my beach house in Malibu.
- Hi.
- I'm sorry for your loss.
- Thank you.
- Alan came to live with me...
...at my Malibu beach house
when he lost his wife.
It's a healing house.
My wife isn't really dead.
Because you healed.
At my Malibu beach house.
And when you think about it,
Harry isn't really dead either.
He lives right here...
...in all of us.
- Thank you.
- Good. Let go.
It's good to let go.
Charlie.
Excuse me a moment.
What, what, what, what, what?
What do you mean,
"What, what, what"?
- You're hitting on the widow.
- No, I'm consoling the widow.
I won't hit on her
until they close the lid.
Unbelievable.
How do you sleep at night?
Usually drunk and on top of somebody.
But that takes work, Alan.
Doesn't just happen by itself.
Here's an idea. Why don't you run
to the embalming room...
...and see if you can score a couple
fresh ones off the truck?
Excuse me,
but considering your ex-wife...
...I'd say you're the expert on having sex
with cold women who don't move.
Nevertheless, you can
hit on women anywhere.
Why did you bother to come?
I don't know. I just did.
- That's it? No reason?
- Do you have a reason for everything?
- Yes.
- So how's that working out for you?
I know how difficult it must be...
...rambling around all by yourself in that
big, drafty, six-bedroom Colonial...
...with the guest room/office
over the garage.
Harry gave me a potbellied pig.
So you'd remember him, sure.
But I know Harry would want you
to move on...
...and this is the perfect time
to move on...
...because this is a seller's market.
- Excuse me.
Can we talk to you a minute?
Pardon me, dear.
What? I'm working here.
That woman just lost her husband.
Alan, the man was 50 years old
when she was born.
- So?
- So she had to see it coming.
Even for you, that is really cold.
Oh, Mr. Graveside Nookie weighs in.
You were trying to give the widow
a sympathetic crotch to cry on.
Hey, watch your mouth.
This is a solemn event.
Yeah, show a little class.
Me? I'm the only one here
behaving appropriately.
Hey, where's Jake?
- Jake.
- How do you know my name?
- It's okay.
- Okay?
I almost pooped my pants.
What are you doing?
I just wanted to see.
Okay, well, let's... Let's take a look.
- Really?
- Yeah. Come on.
- What do you think?
- I don't know.
- How did he die?
- He just got old.
His heart stopped.
His watch is still going.
- Yep.
- Why would he need a watch, anyway?
It's not like he's gonna be
late for anything.
Okay, there are other people waiting
to pay their respects.
Why don't we go find Grandma?
I don't care what anybody says.
I always thought you were a good guy.
Thanks, Alan.
Want to know what time it is?
Let's go.
- How's he look?
- Dead.
Cool.
Surprise.
Listen, I just wanted to tell you
that I've been thinking about it...
...and maybe some of the stuff
between us may have been my fault.
I was angry about losing my dad,
and I guess...
...you were the guy I took it out on.
Anyway, not that it makes
a lot of difference at this point...
...but I just wanted you to know
that I'm sorry.
By the way, I'm gonna take a shot
at your wife.
But that's just a guy thing.
Nothing personal, okay?
I'll take that as a yes.
And so with every door that God closes,
he opens a window.
Did he say "window" or "widow"?
Even as we say goodbye
to our beloved friend...
...Harry Luther Gorsky...
...we know that he lives on
in all of us.
- How are you holding up?
- Okay.
- Lf you need anything, I'm right here.
- Thank you. That's very comforting.
For everything, there is a season.
A time to be born, a time to die.
A time to reap, a time to sow.
So...
...I would like to invite anyone...
...who wishes to say a few words
about Harry...
...to come up and share with us.
As always, I'll do him first.
- Mom, bad idea.
- Hey...
...if I didn't give in to bad ideas,
you wouldn't be here. Hold this.
Dad. I can't find my Gameboy.
Not now, Jake.
Hello. Welcome to Harry's funeral.
I haven't seen him so drained
of bodily fluids since our honeymoon.
What? I thought I'd open with a joke.
My name is Evelyn Harper...
...or, as dear Harry used to call me,
his sweet little sugar tushy.
When I first met Harry...
...I was just a hot young widow
with bills to pay...
...who could lick the chrome
off a trailer hitch.
I also had two small boys...
...one of whom Harry cared for
very deeply.
The other one was Charlie.
It wasn't easy being
a substitute father...
...but Harry gave it his all.
Unfortunately, it wasn't enough...
...which is probably why
he looked for solace...
...in the arms of a cheap slut.
Stand up, Christine.
Let everybody have a look at you.
Take a good look, Heather.
That's gonna be you someday.
Oh, I'm sorry. I'm being disrespectful
to the grieving widow.
But, listen, you wanna talk grieving?
I'm grieving.
I loved this man with all my heart,
and you left me, you lousy bastard.
Well, take a good look.
I've still got a great ass...
...and yours is decomposing
as we speak.
Thank you.
- Okay. That was beautiful.
- Time to go.
I'll call you.
- Dad, what about my Gameboy?
- Forget it. Just keep walking.
And so let's take a moment
of silent prayer for our friend, Harry.
I am really, really sorry.
Got it.
It's my kid's. I don't know,
maybe I spoil him.
Okay, bye.
Boys, when I die...
...I want a simple funeral.
No tears.
- Done.
- You got it.
And I wanna be buried
next to your father.
Dad was cremated, Mom.
Oh, yes, right.
I was thinking of someone else.
So I take it you'd rather be
buried than cremated?
Oh, can't we do both?
I want to be buried
on the side of a hill...
...nestled amongst the willows,
overlooking the ocean.
Do we get to pick the ocean?
And I want an unadorned headstone,
which reads simply:
"Evelyn Harper.
Loving wife, devoted mother."
That's good. Open with a joke.