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

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>> 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