You're the Worst (2014–…): Season 1, Episode 9 - Constant Horror and Bone-Deep Dissatisfaction - full transcript

>> JIMMY: My frame of reference
for love has always come from
literature.
In my brooding youth, Brontë
encapsulated my viewpoint
thusly: "The trouble is not that
I am single and likely to stay
single, but that I am lonely and
likely to stay lonely."
But as I grew up, my darkening
view was more Shakespeare:
"Love is merely a madness and I
tell you, deserves as well a
dark house and a whip as
madmen do."
But now...
now...
since you...
to my abject horror, my view on
love can be best described by
Nicholas Sparks in The Notebook:
"It's not easy...
it's hard...
and you have to work at it,
but it's worth it...
because I want you...
I want all of you...
forever."
Or something like that.
>> BECCA: No.
>> ¶ I'm gonna leave you anyway
I'm gonna leave you anyway
Gonna leave you anyway. ¶
>> SAM: ¶ I'm here ¶
>> SHITSTAIN: Uh... uh... uh.
>> SAM: ¶ I think I saw a deer ¶
>> SAM: ¶ I'm about to kill
>> SHITSTAIN: Uh... uh.
>> SAM: ¶ 'Cause I'm hungry.
Everybody talking 'bout they
>> SHITSTAIN: What?
>> SAM: ¶ My chain bling, bling!
Now these girls owe me... ¶
(both sniffling, sighing)
>> LINDSAY: Tomorrow...
we meet with the flower guy...
then we're tasting cakes,
and then me and, uh...
Ugh...!
>> GRETCHEN: You don't know your
fiancé's name?
>> LINDSAY (laughs): Of course I
know his... don't be dumb.
Paul!
I'm just wired!
>> GRETCHEN: Call it off.
>> LINDSAY: No way!
You should've seen Becca's dumb
face when I told her I was
getting married before her, and
Mom has never paid me so much
attention.
I should've gotten married when
>> GRETCHEN: All right, you have
cross your tits, hope to die--
that even though you're getting
m-m... married...
we are gonna keep this party
going, right?
'Cause this is how this starts.
First, you get married, then you
get some bullshit job, then you
have kids and then you die.
But what you don't know...
is that you were dead the entire
time.
>> LINDSAY: I'm on a lot of
drugs right now.
Can you not tell me I'm dead?
I promise!
I got to go pee.
>> SAM (sighs): Ah...
How was it?
>> ENGINEER: Oh, dope, Sam.
>> SAM: Not you, bitch.
>> ENGINEER: Oh.
>> SAM: You, bitch!
>> GRETCHEN: What?
Oh, me?
No...
I'm just Rick's shitty
assistant.
>> SAM: That Harvey
Weinstein-on-antibiotics
lookin' nerd couldn't be
bothered to attend the final mix
of my first major album?!
>> GRETCHEN: He sent muffins.
Hey, can I ask you guys
something?
Is...
that how you normally dress?
>> SHITSTAIN: What, like, in our
regular lives?
Like when we go to the farmer's
market?
>> HONEY NUTZ: Uh... Rick
suggested that we cultivate
a street-look.
>> GRETCHEN: What do you usually
look like?
>> SAM: Annoying, white, skater
kids from Venice at a rave.
>> GRETCHEN: Well, then...
I don't know, maybe dress like
that.
>> SAM: Tell Rick he's fired.
You're our new publicist.
>> GRETCHEN: What, me?
N-No... I'm not a... (laughing)
I'm not looking for a real job.
>> SAM: Tough shit, bitch!
You in it now.
>> STEEB: I'm speaking with
Jimmy Shive-Overly about his...
pugnacious debut novel,
Congratulations, You're Dying.
Tell us about your writing
process.
>> JIMMY: Rage, heartbreak...
alcohol.
>> STEEB: Heartbreak?
>> JIMMY: I woke up one day and
found myself happy.
It was awful.
>> STEEB: Mm...
Elucidate, please.
>> JIMMY: The lass eviscerated
me, as lasses are wont to do.
That was about a year
and a half ago.
Best thing she ever could have
done for me.
>> STEEB: The book?
>> JIMMY: Yeah...
'Twas a result of that
disemboweling.
It was then I learned the
truth of my writing.
I suck when I'm happy.
>> STEEB: Mmm!
You have to be miserable to
produce?
>> JIMMY: Oh, I wouldn't say,
"miserable," but I'd say
constant horror and bone-deep
dissatisfaction is helpful.
Yeah.
>> STEEB: You're listening to
Folio.
I'm your host, Steeb
Corniglia, here with the
puissant Jimmy Shive-Overly.
Jimmy, it seems to me endemic in
your work that the parental
characters obfuscate by playing
almost prosaic arpeggios on the
central motif.
>> JIMMY: I'm glad you picked up
on that.
>> STEEB: Mmm...
>> EDGAR: How scary is America
now... bitch?!
Jimmy!
Jimmy?
>> JIMMY: I don't have any
change, I don't have any change!
>> EDGAR: What?
No.
It's Edgar.
>> JIMMY: I used to buy weed
from you.
>> EDGAR: That's me.
>> JIMMY: Get off me!
>> EDGAR: How's it going?
>> JIMMY: Yeah, great.
I just got done doing a, uh,
radio show about my new novel.
>> EDGAR: That's awesome.
I'm happy for you.
>> JIMMY: Thanks.
>> EDGAR: Yeah.
>> JIMMY: You don't look so
good.
Here, I got something for you.
Free of charge.
I'll even sign it.
So what's the latest?
>> EDGAR: Actually, I got home
from Iraq and things have
been...
sort of hard, in terms of
adjusting.
And homelessness.
>> JIMMY: Well, hey, if things
ever get really dire, I've got
this chaise on my deck, you
could always sleep there for
a night.
>> EDGAR: Awesome.
Could, sh-should we, sh-should
we go now or...?
>> JIMMY: Right, so if...
things ever get really dire, the
publisher's e-mail's in the back
of the book.
All right, bye.
>> EDGAR: You son of a...
bitch!
(photographers clamoring)
>> INTERVIEWER: Sam! Sam, Sam.
Hey.
You guys recorded a song for the
soundtrack, correct?
>> SAM: I don't know.
Is it a song?
>> INTERVIEWER: Right!
Well, what do you make of the
themes of the movie?
I mean, it is at its heart
a war movie.
>> SAM: Oh.
Is that the theme...?
>> INTERVIEWER: Thanks.
>> GRETCHEN: The guys are so
excited to have contributed to
such an esteemed director's film
and... you know where I'm going
with this.
Just finish the quote for me.
(Ty clears throat)
>> TY: Ty Wyland.
The director.
That you were just talking
about.
>> GRETCHEN: Where'd you get the
drink?
(Ty laughs wryly)
>> TY: I'll show you if you
agree to get dinner with me
sometime.
>> GRETCHEN: Yeah... dating's
not really my thing.
>> TY: Good. Me neither.
So I'll call you in a couple
weeks?
Heading to India for a
little bit.
>> GRETCHEN: Okay.
I warned you.
>> TY: I'll call you.
>> GRETCHEN: Listen, Nestor, I
am flattered, but I've been kind
of seeing someone for about a
year now.
I'm actually on my way to his
house right now.
So I won't be coming over to
your hotel.
But, trust me, the guys are
over the moon about the photo
shoot.
You are their favorite
photographer by miles.
Mm-hmm.
Ciao.
(turns up volume)
¶ ¶
>> GRETCHEN: Seriously?
Dude, I'm on my way to
your house.
Aw, shit.
Shit!
Shit.
(dog barking in distance)
(clanking, scraping)
(indistinct police radio
communication)
>> GRETCHEN: Shit.
>> JIMMY: It's been a year!
Where the hell are my royalties?
Because I need them to live off
of.
Yes, I know Junot Díaz writes
for Esquire, but I am a
novelist.
Yeah, I'm-I'm working on the
follow-up, but it's-it's slow
going and...
I'll talk to you later.
>> EDGAR: I'm nervous, Jimmy.
I-I haven't been to a big social
event since I've been back.
Are you sure they know I'm
coming?
>> JIMMY: Yes. Get in.
>> EDGAR: Are you sure... it's
even a good idea that you go?
>> JIMMY: What's the worst I
could do?
>> EDGAR: Okay. Fine.
>> JIMMY: No, seriously, what is
the worst I could do?
I've been up all night working
on my list of ways to ruin their
wedding.
I keep getting stuck around
"Seduce the groom's mother."
>> KILLIAN: Hi, new neighbors!
Hi!
Hello!
>> LINDSAY: Were the other jail
girls mean?
Did any of them try to make out
with you?
>> GRETCHEN: No.
But one girl kept some pretty
strong eye contact with me while
she was on the toilet.
>> PAUL: Well, we should
vámonos, señoritas.
>> GRETCHEN: What'd you get
them, anyway?
>> LINDSAY: A food processor.
>> GRETCHEN: (scoffs) I don't
get it.
Why does everyone feel the need
to have these things, these,
like, symbols of adulthood?
Like, a food processor?
Why do you need this stuff?
>> PAUL: That's an interesting
question.
I think, maybe, it means you're
investing in your future.
You may not use it every day or
even very often at all, but
knowing that at any moment you
could make pesto without having
to borrow a friend's or
improvise some lesser method,
that knowledge, that
possibility, makes you an adult.
>> LINDSAY: Plus, this one,
it's, like, one level worse than
ours, so Becca can never beat
me.
Bitch.
¶ ¶
>> MAN: ¶ Mm-hmm, hmm, hmm
Yeah
Aw, yeah... ¶
>> WEDDING COORDINATOR: I'm
sorry, Jimmy.
You didn't include a name for
your plus-one so we didn't hold
the space.
>> EDGAR: Jim-Jim...
Um, I-I could help serve food
or...
>> JIMMY: I put in two years
penetrating the bride at least
thrice weekly.
I deserve to have a friend here.
>> WEDDING COORDINATOR: I'll see
what I can do.
>> PAUL: Hey, Jimmy.
>> JIMMY: Sorry, have we met?
>> PAUL: Okay.
I get it.
Shut the door on the former
life.
I think it's very brave of you
to have come.
>> JIMMY: Mmm. Thanks.
You.
>> WEDDING COORDINATOR: Okay,
I found you a seat.
>> GRETCHEN: One day all my
L.A. friends were married, with
houses and adult jobs,
Instagramming every time they
went to the ArcLight.
So, basically, there's nothing
keeping me here.
And I figured if I want to move
to New York, where I still have
friends who aren't collecting
their eggs in petri dishes,
why not?
>> BARTENDER: So you don't want
the drink?
>> GRETCHEN: So I am moving
tomorrow.
To New York.
I'm not even gonna say good-bye
to anyone.
I hate good-byes.
>> BARTENDER: Leaving a whole
city Irish, huh?
That's hard-core.
>> GRETCHEN: Hey, what do you
think a nice food processor goes
for?
>> BARTENDER: I don't know.
400, 500 bucks?
>> GRETCHEN: Seriously?
Sweet.
>> EDGAR: So, uh, are you all...
you all gonna have the nuggets
or-or the mac and cheese?
I can't decide.
(clears throat)
So, what do you do?
>> GIRL: I'm a child.
>> EDGAR: Cool.
Are we getting together after
or...
Cheers.
>> JIMMY: No, you're right.
This day isn't about me, is it?
>> BECCA: What were you gonna
say?
>> JIMMY: Forget it.
>> BECCA: No, I'm serious.
I really want to know what does
the brilliant Jimmy
Shive-Overly think about me!
(anxious laugh)
>> JIMMY: I'm not one for
psychic thought or oracles, but,
Rebecca...
(quietly): you and I have not
made love for the last time.
>> VERNON: Hey!
(Becca crying)
>> PAUL: ...and, Vernon, to
you, I just want to say,
"Welcome to the family.
It gets better."
>> VERNON: (chuckles) What a
dork.
>> BECCA: I can't believe it
took them two months to edit our
wedding video.
>> VERNON: Dave did it for free.
>> BECCA: Yeah, well, you get
what you pay for.
Oh, I talked to Aunt Helen.
She insists she got us a
blender.
You don't have to get us a
wedding gift, but don't lie
about it.
>> LINDSAY: Um, anyway, I love
you so much.
And, remember, there is no shame
whatsoever in getting married
two years after your little
sister.
Siblings mature at different
rates.
(Vernon laughs)
>> BECCA: What a cooze.
>> VERNON: Paul, did you hear?
Jimmy took a photo of his dingus
on every one of our disposable
cameras.
>> PAUL: Seriously?
>> VERNON: Yeah.
What a classic heckle.
Becca recognized it on account
of it having been in her mouth
so much.
>> PAUL: Did you hear?
They broke up.
>> VERNON: Who?
Jimmy and Gretchen? No.
>> BECCA: What?
>> PAUL: Yeah.
Gretchen's really upset.
I can't say I'm that surprised.
They're both quite spirited.
>> VERNON: Wow.
That's a bummer.
I should call him.
He's probably waiting to hear
from me.
Let me get one of those?
>> BECCA: These are pretty
expensive.
>> JIMMY: Superman is aware that
kryptonite is his kryptonite,
and he keeps getting mixed up
with it anyway.
Women, romantic happiness, is my
kryptonite.
I got complacent being with
Becca and produced shit-all.
And the minute she left me
twisting up on that hill with
that ring--
Bam, the book came to me.
Whole cloth.
And then-- then I did it again.
At that selfsame succubi's
wedding, no less.
And, no doubt, my work suffered
being with Gretchen.
And now, having broken up with
her is guaranteed to release
the words.
In fact, I can feel all my
creative juices returning to me
already.
I wouldn't be surprised if I
started playing guitar again.
Nope.
Would not be surprised at all.
Cheers, mate.
This is normally where you make
a weird non sequitur and I
chastise you and continue
talking.
>> EDGAR: Yeah, well, with
Gretchen, you've been actually
kind of fun to be around, but
if you're telling me that we're
going back to you being a
hundred percent dick so that you
can write another stupid book I
won't read?
(scoffs) Uh-uh.
Unsubscribe.
>> JIMMY: Whoa, what are you
doing?
You never pay for drinks.
>> EDGAR: I'm done owing you
stuff, Jimmy.
>> JIMMY: Oh, sit down, man.
>> EDGAR: Don't tell me what to
do.
You don't get to tell me what to
do anymore!
>> JIMMY: It's PTSD.
He's all right, he's fine.
>> EDGAR: You know that night
you met Gretchen?
Do you remember how nervous I
was to go to Becca's wedding?
How crowds freak me out?
>> JIMMY: That was a lifetime
ago.
>> EDGAR: It was two months ago.
You brought me as a prop
and then forgot about me.
I had to sit with a bunch of
very condescending and
unfriendly children who wouldn't
even invite me to the after
party.
I'm going to get my stuff.
I'll leave the keys on
the table.
>> JIMMY: Wait.
You didn't read my book?
>> EDGAR: No way.
It looked crazy boring.
>> JIMMY: Well, fine, go.
You're only helping me.
Now I'm even... even more alone.
>> VERNON: Hey, I got something
>> PAUL: What?
(farts)
>> PAUL: Oh!
>> VERNON: That's for you.
It's a gift, straight from the
heart.
>> PAUL: Ugh.
(car door shuts, engine starts)
>> VERNON: She left. Huh.
Bitches be trippin'.
Speaking of bitches, where'd you
say Lindsay was?
>> PAUL: Comforting Gretchen
after the breakup.
Still.
>> VERNON: Sweet.
Let's bust open some scotch and
get dumb.
>> PAUL: I really shouldn't.
And didn't you say you have
surgery in the morning?
>> VERNON: Come on, Paul.
Don't be such a fa...
>> SAM: ¶ Part scorpion ¶
>> SINGERS: ¶ Uh-huh ¶
>> SAM: ¶ Part accordion ¶
>> SINGERS: ¶ Uh-huh ¶
>> SAM: ¶ Lord, according to Tom
Ford, I'm born again ¶
(Honey Nutz and Shitstain whoop)
>> SAM: ¶ I'm a cash box
drippin' full of fives and tens
I'm the sarcophagus, the
parasite, so put me in ¶
>> SHITSTAIN: Let's go!
>> HONEY NUTZ: ¶ You in the
Thunderdome, son, with the young
one writin' a blank check like
¶ If my name was Young Gun
>> SHITSTAIN: ¶ Pass the iced
tea, I'm parched, Middlemarch,
cookie fart, false start,
all parched... ¶
(whoops)
(both snorting)
>> LINDSAY: Marriage is such
bullshit.
Why didn't you warn me?
>> GRETCHEN: The morning of your
wedding, I said, "Lindsay, don't
do this."
>> LINDSAY: The girls are back.
>> GRETCHEN: Oh, thank God.
I never told you-- I was gonna
move to New York after Becca's
wedding.
>> LINDSAY: What?
>> GRETCHEN: Yeah.
I was like, "Everyone's getting
so serious about everything.
Ooh, my marriage, my career,
I have groceries."
I was like, "Nothing's keeping
me here, let's go."
>> LINDSAY: Okay.
>> GRETCHEN: Okay what?
>> LINDSAY: Let's go.
Let's go.
Gretchen, nothing's keeping me
here, either.
>> GRETCHEN: Lindsay.
>> LINDSAY: Think about it.
We can do drugs and go to weird
Puerto Rican dance halls and
take so much New York dick that
our pussies start talking like,
(New York accent): "Oh, another
one-- fuggedaboutit."
But they won't forget about it,
Gretch, because we're just that
memorable.
>> GRETCHEN: How much blow have
you done?
>> LINDSAY: Oh, my God, I'm so
excited about this plan that I
have to pee.
(Sam whoops, laughs)
>> SAM: Yo, what the hell are
you doing?
>> GRETCHEN: Partying, what?
>> SAM: This is where we work.
>> GRETCHEN: Come on.
This is where you do drugs
and make up nonsense into the
mic.
>> SAM: You know, you were
actually a pretty good PR rep,
there.
But lately, your ass has been
tragic.
If Rick hadn't died in that
Jet Ski accident, his ass would
be replacing you right now.
>> GRETCHEN: You do the same
dumb stuff I do.
>> SAM: Bitch, I am 21.
You're 30.
>> LINDSAY: Hey, dawgs.
(giggles)
Should we live in a studio in
New York?
If we bang the same guys, we
only need one bed.
Gretch, do coke off my titties.
>> GRETCHEN: I... I'm gonna go
home.
>> LINDSAY: With who, Shitstain?
'Cause I'll take the other one.
>> GRETCHEN: No, alone.
This feels like someone else.
I don't know.
I'm sorry.
I'm gonna go home, I'm gonna
take a shower and I'm gonna
figure out what I'm gonna do
with my life.
Maybe you should, too.
>> LINDSAY: Are you goddamn
kidding me?
You always give me shit for
being married, and now I'm
cheating on my husband and you
bail?
You always bail on me, and I'm
sick of it.
>> GRETCHEN: I can only help
myself, Linds, sorry.
>> LINDSAY: Fine!
I don't need you!
You watch!
(inhaling)
>> JIMMY: Come on.
Shit.
(knocking on door)
>> BECCA: Well, you were right,
Jimmy.
Here I am.
>> JIMMY: Sorry?
>> BECCA: Your prediction.
At the wedding.
>> JIMMY: What are you talking
about?
>> BECCA: "You and I have not
made love for the last time."
>> JIMMY: Why would you say
that?
>> BECCA: No, you said that.
At my wedding.
>> JIMMY: I did?
Well, that was quite a heckle.
>> BECCA: Oh, shut up.
Come on, let's go.
>> JIMMY: Becca, please...
What are you doing?
>> BECCA: Is this a joke?
Are you not gonna have sex
with me?
>> JIMMY: Becca, you're married.
>> BECCA: Oh, my God.
You are a sociopath.
I should've known.
I-Is my entire life just a game
to you?
>> JIMMY: Becca, please, why
don't you just go home?
Get some sleep.
You look tired.
>> BECCA: Oh, my God, are you...
¶ ¶
(cat meows)
(purring)
(Jimmy blows air)
>> JIMMY: ¶ You and I...
(humming)
Something, fly...
¶ Do, do, do
With love for-for...
Y-You
¶ I want to fly
(off-key): I want to fly
Fly-y... ¶
¶ Bom, bom, bom...
¶ Dun, dun
Back, back, back...
Home. ¶
Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH