Wilfred (2011–2014): Season 1, Episode 8 - Anger - full transcript

Sneakers? Sneakers? Sneakers?

Come here, Sneakers.

Hey, Sneakers.

Shit.

Hey.
Why are you not at my house?

Uh-- Uh, I am at your house.

Don't lie to me, Ryan.

I have security cameras and I am
looking at them online right now.

Uh--
Leo.

You said the chairs weren't
being delivered until 10.

- You should already be there.
- I'll kill you.



This fly's been
a dick all morning.

This party is for
important people.

People who don't sit around
in their underwear all day...

...watching TV
with the neighbor's dog.

Oh, talking shit now, are you?
Aah!

Uh, I'll be there in 15 minutes.
I promise.

Bitched out by Kristen.
What a great way to start the day.

Ryan, remember when I told you a few
weeks ago that you are a total pussy?

Well, I just wanna apologize for
not emphasizing that enough.

What am I gonna do?
Yell at her?

She loaned me $5000
for my car accident.

Ryan,
anger is like herpes.

You're not meant
to keep it to yourself.

Expressing your anger
will make you feel better.



Watch this.

No.
Die.

You bloody bastard.

Unh! Yeah.

See?

The fly's dead.
I feel much better.

No harm done whatsoever.

Why aren't I going to Kristen's?
Kristen hates you.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
No one hates me.

I'm Wilfred. I'm adorable.

Look at these eyes.
This smile.

I once cracked a Nazi skinhead
in the face with a beer...

...and you know
what he did to me?

Belly rub.
Trust me.

Kristen hates you.
We'll see about that.

I'm going.

What's that?
Binaca.

I don't want my breath
smelling like balls.

Look, Leo, the chairs are here.

Wow, all these chairs and no throne?
Where's Dr. Ramos gonna sit?

Leo thinks it's weird I'm throwing
a party in honor of my boss.

Because it is weird.

Dr. Ramos got a grant
to open a clinic in India...

...he's looking for an associate
to oversee the project.

Leo doesn't understand that people
get ahead by playing office politics.

Which is maybe why he's still
a claims investigation supervisor.

Claims investigation supervisor's one of
the most respected titles in all of insurance.

Our therapist told you to work
on your passive-aggressive tone.

Really, because maybe you are--
Hey, Leo, it's nice to see you.

Hey, Ryan.

Kristen, shall I compare
thee to a sunset?

Morning dew? Flowers?

Blah, blah, blah.

Some other beautiful shit?
Point is, you look good.

My lady.

Ew! ugh!

Oh! God.

Ugh!
Aah! My rat.

Ungrateful bitch.

God, why did you bring that stupid dog?

You're more obsessed with him than that
Jack Russell you had when we were kids.

Sneakers. He had a name.

Great. The entrails fell out.

Now it's worthless.

Wait a minute.
Where are the cushions?

You didn't say anything about cushions.
I didn't think I had to.

On account of it being obvious.

You know what, Kristen?
Aw, yeah.

That's it. Get mad.

You got something to say, Ryan?

That was pathetic.

You just grabbed your ankles and took it.
No wonder she has no respect for you.

She didn't treat you that well either.
Which was surprising.

Because I thought everyone loves Wilfred.
Everyone does.

Except her because
she's not human.

Cold, black heart. Dead eyes.

Nice tits.

By the way, who's Sneakers?

No one.

Sneakers?

Sneakers?

Here, boy.

Sneakers?

Sneakers is no one, huh?

Do you usually buy
priceless jewelry for no one?

Imitation colored glass?

Plastic painted
to look like metal?

This isn't some cheap
made-in-China knock-off.

This is made in Taiwan.
You bastard.

Keeping another dog
on the side, are you?

Sneakers was my dog
20 years ago.

Twenty years, 20 minutes.

Makes no difference to me, Ryan.
You know I have no concept of time.

Well, I do.
And it's 2 in the morning.

I'm going back to bed.

Damn it. Why won't you
tell me about Sneakers?

Because I killed him. Okay?

I killed him.

Well, that's a relief.

He was
the sweetest little dog.

He did these
cute back flips.

Every morning I'd wake up
with him snuggled against me.

Licking my ear.

And, one day,
I found Sneakers...

...floating in the pool.

I left the gate open.
I was always so careful.

I killed my best friend.

Snuggled up against you,
licking your ear?

What, in the same bed?

Where did you meet this budgie smuggler?
At a Maroon 5 concert?

Don't be an asshole.
It was a long time ago.

Then I assume you won't mind
if I wear this.

Are you all right?

Yeah, yes.

It's just a little chilly down here,
I guess.

I'm going back to bed.

Uh, Wilfred?

That's not mine.

I've been thinking it over,
and I know what happened last night.

After I went to sleep...

...you somehow managed to get
some homo chip planted in my brain.

You caught me.

Let's go to the vet and get that removed.
No, no, that's-- That won't be necessary.

Wow, miraculous recovery.

Hello?
Don't forget to bring...

...Mom's old ice tub tonight...

...and remember to be here
two hours early to set up the bar.

Oh, well, why not three?

I really don't appreciate
the attitude, Ryan.

Sorry.

This party's important to me,
so just do your best, all right?

I've got it.
It wasn't a homo chip.

It was a glowing orb of gayness brought
by aliens that you summoned because--

Stop. You know what I think?

It's pretty coincidental that you suddenly
start acting like my old dog Sneakers.

What? You think I'm acting?

You tell me.

Ryan, dogs are very
empathic creatures.

In fact, some cultures,
the Hindus, for example...

...they believe that we dogs can help
the living communicate with the dead.

Are you saying that the ghost of my
dead dog is trying to possess your body?

Dude, can you blame him?

The glowing orb of gayness
is more believable than that.

Ryan, it's true.
And I can prove it.

But first, we must
cross over to the other side.

The other side of the room?

I dropped my guts there.
That's gonna reek.

I'm sorry about that. Wait.

We're gonna uncover the mysteries
of the afterlife, Ryan.

The secrets of the dead.

And we'll do it all with
the most sacred tool of dark magic.

S ...

H ...

M ...

E ...

Wash me.

Wash me?

Funny, bear. I could feel you
pushing it the whole time.

Come over here. I need someone
who's gonna take this seriously.

I don't have time.
I have to get to Kristen's.

Nonsense? Can't you feel
the tormented souls around us?

Gary Coleman. Is that you?

What do you mean,
what am I talking about--?

Oh, ha, ha. I get it.

Ha, ha!

Kristen's old swim goggles.
What's this doing here?

Hi, Ryan. it's me, Sneakers.

That isn't funny, Wilfred.

Wilfred? Gosh, golly.

Don't you recognize
your old buddy Sneakers?

I'm not kidding.
Cut the shit.

Yippity-do.
Wanna go have a snuggle?

Or watch me do
one of my neat-o back flips?

Give me that collar.
What's wrong, Ryan?

Are you still mad at me for chewing
the feet off your footie pajamas?

Remember? The ones with
the race cars all over them?

Sneakers.

Ryan, I know you feel bad about
how I died, but it wasn't your fault.

I left the gate open.
Nuh-uh. It was Kristen.

What?

I swear, if this is just you--

It was all her fault, and she let you
live with the guilt for 20 years.

The guilt that made you
a sad, sad boy.

You know, in the back of my mind,
I always thought that maybe she--

She did.

Maybe we should go over to her house
and make her a sad, sad girl.

Maybe we should punch her tits off.

You can be a real bastard, Wilfred.
Wilfred?

You're mad because she doesn't like you.
So you want me to be mad at her too.

This is sick.
Ryan, I don't understand.

Four score and seven years ago.

Oh, God. What just happened?

That man is not the real Magic Johnson.

I died in 1992.
That guy looks nothing like me.

Are you sick or are you just faking it
so you can mess with Kristen?

Have a bit of sympathy, mate.

I just had a terrifying
paranormal experience.

My stomach?s in knots
and my head's pounding.

I asked you to bring
Mom's antique copper tub.

This is tin.
Ryan strikes again.

The only one in the basement.
You have a basement?

Kristen, hey, I think we just got off
on the wrong foot yesterday.

No. Why would you bring him?

I couldn't leave him.
He's not feeling well.

Just promise me he won't shit
on the lawn or do anything to--

U h ...

Sorry. I'll hose it off right away.

Just leave it.
I'll eat it later.

I'm gonna go rinse
my mouth out in the toilet.

Hey, I was thinking.

Do you remember the day
I found Sneakers in the pool?

I guess. Why?

Well, we always thought I was
the one who left the gate open...

...but, I was wondering,
is it possible that, maybe--'?

Maybe what?

Maybe it was you?

Oh.

One hour and forty-eight minutes
before my big party...

...and you decide to accuse me of
killing that back-flipping little idiot?

You know what, Ryan?
Sometimes you can be really insensitive.

Hey.
Kristen may be a bitch.

But she'd never let me believe I killed
my dog all these years if it wasn't true.

I don't know why I listen to you.
Me?

I didn't say anything.

It was Sneakers,
and he's got no reason to lie.

Would you stop with this paranormal shit?
You don't believe me?

Call her out on her lies.

Get the truth and get angry for once.
Just stop.

She doesn't like you.
Deal with it.

I'm not gonna ruin her party
and neither are you.

I'm locking you
in the car, Wilfred.

Wilfred?

Wilfred's not here any more.

There's only Sneakers, and I won't rest
until Kristen gets what's coming to her.

In the car. Now.

Okay. Race you there.

And after six minutes
of infant CPR...

...I looked into the baby's eyes
and I said, "You live, now."

At that exact moment,
the baby just--

He stared right back at me
with his big, brown eyes.

It was if to say, "Thank you."

And took his first breath.
Oh.

And that's when I vowed I'd someday
return to that village and open a clinic.

Let me get this straight, an obstetrician
delivered a baby without killing it?

Oh, look, honey,
it's the Davidsons.

Oh, don't forget to check out
the chocolate fountain.

Really?

Okay, that's it, Leo is cut off.

Could this party get any worse?
You put that dog away, right?

He's in the car. He won't
bother anyone from there.

Uh, I should go check on him.
Are you kidding?

Ryan.

Oh, no.

Hell, Ryan, I just had to pour Dr. Ramos
a glass of Chardonnay myself.

Do you know how that looks?

I need a second.
No, just get back to the bar.

Oh, my God.

Ah! Ch, my God.
What happened?

A dog knocked over the table.
A dog?

I'll take care of it.

- Ryan.
- Oh. I'm so sorry.

Oh, my God.
Stop.

Wilfred.
Look at how she laughs, Ryan.

Oh, God. Ha, ha!
Crazy night.

I can't laugh like that because
my lungs are filled with water.

I don't believe you, you're doing this
because Kristen doesn't like you.

No, I'm doing this to make
that bitch pay for killing me.

Yippity-do!

Watch out!

Oh, my God.
Oh, I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

- What happened?
- The dog.

Sorry. Ch, God.

Whoa.

Where am I?

Oh, God. Here it comes.

it's okay. I swallowed it.

Kristen, I'm so sorry.
Sorry'?

You ruined my party, Ryan.
The Ramoses left.

That dog is a four-legged
piece of shit.

Take it easy on Wilfred.
You talk about him like he's a person.

I am so tired of dealing
with that stupid dog.

Ever since he came into your life--
Just shut the hell up.

What?
I am sick of taking your shit.

Ever since we were kids, it's like
you get off on treating me like crap.

Like when Sneakers died.
You kept rubbing my face in it.

Don't you think
I felt guilty enough?

Uh, Kristen?

I left it open.

What?

I came home to get my goggles for
swim practice and I left the gate open.

The goggles.
I left, it was me.

How could you let me live
with guilt for 20 years?

I don't know. Mom and Dad
always liked you more.

You were always
sweet and creative.

And I was always the uptight
little girl everyone avoided.

Even Sneakers liked you more
than me. And you know what?

He was supposed
to be my dog.

Remember?
I got him for my birthday.

I'm so sorry, Ryan.
Can you forgive me?

I don't know.

What if I forget about the rest
of the $5000 you owe me?

You wanna pay me off?
Yeah.

I guess it's a start.

I'm so glad
you finally know the truth.

I have been walking around
with this for so long.

And I guess that's why I get so
upset around Wilfred, you know?

- I don't really hate him.
- And there it is.

She loves me.
I knew it the whole time.

It's so obvious.

You think
he'd let me pet him?

Hey, Wilfred.

You're such a sweet dog.
Piss off.

What? I still hate the bitch.

Hi, Ryan,
it's me again. Yippity-do.

Seriously?
Aren't we done with this?

I'm just here to say goodbye.

Now that you're no longer carrying the
guilt of my death, I can finally rest in peace.

Cool. See you.

Wait.

I was hoping we could
have one last snuggle.

No, thanks.
Please?

And then I'll never bother you again.

Close your eyes.