You're the Worst (2014–…): Season 3, Episode 12 - You Knew It Was a Snake - full transcript
The three couples engage in day-long fights.
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♪
"As Malcolm bent
the 17-year-old Sally
over the lip of his tanker desk,
he thought back to her baptism."
What the shit?!
"That summer day in '73,
every car radio
"blaring 'Search and Destroy, '
"a warm rain lashing down
like sweat flinging off
a groupie's bouncing tits."
It's like being molested by
an audio book. What is this?
"The Width of a Peach."
My masterpiece
of multi-generational
sexploitative literature.
Why the hell
would you read me literature?
You know I don't like
good things.
Last night, you said that
I would never be successful.
Well, I stayed up all night
and wrote 35 amazing pages
just to spite you.
So, ha! Consider yourself
thoroughly spited.
Ha!
Cool.
Okay, I take back
the thing I said.
You will be successful.
Thank you!
(laptop clatters)
Now it's your turn.
I'm proud of me, too.
No, Jimmy! It's your
turn to take back
the mega-harsh thing
you said to me.
And then, voilà, everything
goes back to Normal Town,
et cetera, et cetera...
A little makeup boneage.
Maybe some titty massages
for Jimmy.
Wait, what exactly
am I meant to take back?
(imitates Jimmy) "I can't see
myself having kids with her."
Oh, that.
No, I'm 100% sticking by that.
Hey, can we do this
titty massage on the patio?
I just want to keep an eye
on the hummingbird feeder.
Jimmy! You have dropped
eight iPhones in the last year,
one into a vat of ranch
at Souplantation.
Child-rearing
requires skill.
It's not the same
as binge-watching
a season of Exemplify.
Oh, my God!
That is so sexist
and mansplainy.
You a Gamergater?
Am I living with a Gamergater?
LINDSAY: Quiet, already!
Why is Lindsay here?
She dumped Paul hard.
I said she could crash.
Mmm...
Oh, my... (Jimmy sighs)
(sighs) Ah...
What?
I'm supposed to wear pajamas
like an old?
Mmm...
♪
♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway
♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway ♪
♪ Gonna leave you anyway.
Wakey-wakey.
I just wrapped up an
early-morning shift
cleaning a frat house
after a "Colonial Bros"
"and Nava-hos" party.
Got the puke cleaned up,
but the racism
and cultural appropriation
are gonna leave a stain.
Hey, I brought pastries.
Okay, but do you want to talk
about last night?
Oh, my God. I was so drunk.
I think I might have hit up
a Del Taco drive-through.
I'm missing my side mirror, and
my fingers smell like hot sauce.
Wait. You drove yourself home?
Sure.
Drunk driving is easy.
It's just like
playing a video game.
You totally freaked out
on me last night.
Well, you took me to a wedding,
and then you ditched me
to work on sketch ideas.
Who are you, Will Sasso?
This is my first writing job.
I didn't know anybody,
and you abandoned me.
Yeah. Well, okay,
I can see how that...
oh, was really sucky of me.
It was. Thank you.
You know, I'm happy for you.
I mean, shit, I'm a liberal.
God knows I should applaud
when an underrepresented
voice gets heard.
You mean veterans?
Yeah. That, too.
Hey, you want a pastry?
I-I just want to make sure
that you aren't implying
that I was hired
just because I'm Latino.
What? Of course not.
I don't even see race.
Hey, when did they put
this awesome eagle
on the Italian flag?
♪
(knock on door)
(knock on door)
Paul?
What you did was unspeakable!
Unconscionable!
Indefensible! Indedibble-dobble!
How could you abort that baby
without telling me?
It wasn't a baby, Paul.
It was just a bunch of cells.
You destroyed our family!
Name one family
that's just a bunch of cells.
Osmosis Jones.
Why does everyone
keep doing that?
What made you think
you had the right
to make that decision for us?
My body, my choice.
It's not that cut-and-dried
when you're married.
My body, my choice.
There's a difference between
claiming your
reproductive rights
and behaving like a complete...
My body, my choice.
Stop saying that!
No, Paul. You stop.
Me and my sisters,
we fought for this right
for millenniums.
This is why Margaret Thatcher
went to prison.
Can you please
put on some clothes
while we have this conversation?
No, Paul. My body, my choice.
And now,
I choose to go outside
and smoke.
Because it's my body.
My choice.
That's right, sucka.
(door closes)
♪
Look, I meant it as
a good thing, okay? Yes,
sometimes minorities
get jobs over white people,
even when they're both
equally qualified,
or maybe the minority is
slightly less qualified.
But I think that
that is good for the world,
and I simply got you
these cool and funky pastries
'cause they're cool and funky,
not because they're Latino,
or whatever.
Here, try one.
They're "pan dulthes."
(snickers) Wait.
What are you saying?
"Pan dulthes."
Edgar, they're "pan dulthes."
I pronounce everything
with a Castilian "S,"
because I studied abroad
in "Barthelona."
For you to say that I have
the advantage is insulting.
I mean, if anyone has
the advantage, it's you.
How do I have the advantage?
(chuckles)
You're a white girl.
There's literally a part
for you in every script
that's ever been written.
Not Glengarry Glen Ross
or 700 Sundays.
Besides, don't you read?
People just, like,
they hate women now.
You don't even have
to hide it anymore.
Yeah, well, you never read,
"Cut to funny brown guy
with perfect features."
You have the advantage. Yeah.
Because it's such
an advantage to be
constantly sexually harassed.
And it's so advantageous
to only be cast
as "Pretty Girl Number 3"
or "Overworked Mom."
I thought you didn't book
"Overworked Mom."
And it's such an advantage to
be slut-shamed for six years
because I accidentally sucked
Brian Dunkleman's dick
'cause I thought
he was Chris Hardwick.
Look, can we at least agree that
the true enemy here
is the white male?
JIMMY: Whoa!
Not me. I'm an immigrant.
Our story
is so tragic.
Do you know how many of us
drown every day
trying to get over here?
And the true villain is
the white American male.
Bad things happen
to white American men, too.
Real bad things.
You know, why don't I
let you white people
tell me how bad you all have it.
Jesus!
Oh, look, wife.
I'm about to rip
my lung tissue asunder
with the devil's tobacco
because my life has been
destroyed by the woman I love!
Your body, your choice.
You know, I almost left you.
When Vernon and I were
lost in the woods,
he wanted to bail
and go live in Mexico.
I should have gone
and started my life anew,
like John McAfee,
software millionaire!
Shoulda-woulda-coulda!
JIMMY: Right.
Can you two idiots
do this at your place?
No! If you send them home,
her wishy-washy ass
will be lured back into that
suck-butt marriage by lunch.
Shut up, Gretchen!
You shut up! Aw, shit!
Fine. Then just go and fight in my room.
Our room.
But don't touch anything,
don't sit,
and hands off the bed booze.
(sighs)
♪
What?!
Nothing. I just...
Sometimes I look at you
and I think,
"How did this person
get in my house?"
It's like I've lost
the thread of a novel,
and all of a sudden,
there's this
messy short woman
who's clearly important
to the story.
So, I'm flipping back, thinking,
"I don't remember that character
being introduced."
Tell me about it! Some days
it's like I un-blacked out
from a week-long bender, and
now I'm in this weird-ass house
with sharp corners.
My mate was supposed to be
so different.
Classy, unbruised,
a first-chair violinist
for the Philharmonic. (Chuckles)
God, can you imagine it?
Me in the wings
of Disney Hall.
And we wave good-bye
to the other musicians,
and I joke about
what a drag it must be
for Igor to haul
that double bass home.
And then Dudamel does
a champagne spit-take
and shakes his head at me like,
(Venezuelan accent)
"Oh, Jimmy, you are too much."
(laughs) How am I not
arm candy for some international
movie star with a giant dong?
Yeah. He's part owner of
a cool tech company
and invents apps when he's not
dick-punching Peter Sarsgaard
in his latest movie. Sometimes,
we talk about adopting a kid
from a third-world country,
but we never do it.
And we live in
a legit-ass castle
in Malibu with one of those
big modern art pieces
by the guy who does
the big dots.
What? Lichtenstein?
Yeah. A big old Lichtenstein.
Wow.
How very sophomore year
art history of you. (Chuckles)
You definitely shouldn't
decorate your own house.
(laughs, gasps)
(knocking) Knock, knock.
White lady visiting from
the Aryan zone. You still mad?
Maybe you only like me
when I'm struggling.
You think that I want you to struggle?
Think about it.
When we first met,
I was your insecure student.
Then I was your vet boyfriend
with PTSD.
Then I was a stoner
with no future.
But the second I get
a tiny bit of success,
you freak out.
You forced me to engage
in acts of sexual deviance.
But you started this!
You threw your bike
onto the street,
and said we were new people,
and I put on
that whole Napron-wearing,
good wifey act,
even though I was dying
on the inside.
You went along with
it for 20 minutes.
And then you stabbed me!
You want me to hide my bees
under a bushel.
You use your niceness
to stifle me,
and then you make me
feel guilty.
You stabbed me!
We both did things we regret.
Relationships are messy.
You're actually tearing apart
my hypothetical fantasy.
Now you want to tell me
what I can and can't imagine?
You admitted that
you don't like good things.
I'm just confirming that.
You should seriously shut up
sometimes, Jimmy.
Just shut all the way up.
I mean, what if I did
make something of myself? Hmm?
If I did
rise up there
to your level, why?
Why would that be so bad?!
Because I am not up there!
Okay?
I am down!
I am the downest
that I have ever been.
You want messy?!
I'll show you messy!
(yells)
Oh, no, Paul!
Now you're going
to have bad luck.
I have bad luck!
You're my bad luck!
God! You're so selfish.
There is something
seriously wrong with you.
Why did I marry you?
Why?!
(grunts)
Look, if your fantasy is so fragile...
Picking, pick, pick.
That I'm able to dismantle it...
Pick at everything I say and do.
Then maybe it wasn't so great
to begin with. I'm sick of living
underneath your highfalutin
surveillance state.
Plus, "hypothetical fantasy"
is redundant.
I just silenced
the judgy mom voice in my head.
I don't need another one
from you.
LINDSAY:
Stop using your big voice at me!
DOROTHY: Don't hug me.
Just let me be sad!
PAUL: I'll use my big voice
at you whenever I want!
I'm only using my big voice
with you now!
(Paul continues shouting)
(scoffs)
(sniffles)
(chuckles)
You... Come on.
You had a rough month.
You'll bounce back.
I'm a 30-something
failed actress
living in a disgusting
K-Town studio.
I haven't been
to the dentist in years.
My agent told me
to gain 20 pounds
so that I could at least
audition to be the kooky aunt.
(sobs)
(yells) Oh, God!
(grunting)
Oh, God. You ruined my life!
Why?! Why did you do it?!
Paul. (Groaning)
Look at me.
(panting) Paul.
You knew it was a snake
when you picked it up.
What?
You knew who I was.
You don't get
to act surprised now.
♪
(phone beeps)
Becca and Vernon had their baby.
It's a girl.
Tallulah.
Ew. (Phone vibrates)
(chuckles, sniffles)
Becca had her baby.
(phones chime)
(sighs)
Dorothy's crying.
It's very mucous-y.
Lindsay's just reciting the
spoken word parts of "Lemonade."
(scoffs)
Such idiots.
We're no better than them.
Oh, speak for yourself.
I'm not the one
who flung my sandwich
like a upset chimp at the zoo.
I threw it because
I realized I was living
with an uptight dildo
whose personality unmakes itself
anytime something bad happens.
Says the woman who spent weeks
catatonic on the couch
in crusty yoga pants.
I have a clinical goddamn illness!
Oh, right.
So you just win because your
condition is listed in the DSM?
No! I win because I am
doing something about it.
You're just lashing out
and putting me
under a microscope!
It just happened!
He just died.
Right, I am still grieving,
Gretchen.
Jesus Christ!
But I was there first! Where?!
Here! In shit, miserable!
There just isn't room
for you to be broken
right now, too.
Oh, that...
that is complete...
(exhales)
How is that okay?
It's not.
It is completely unfair.
No. This is not supposed to...
One person is supposed to be
in the hospital bed.
And then the other uncomfortably
sleeping on that little couch,
just sneaking home
to shower and...
(voice breaks)
And walk the dog.
Right? (Exhales)
Right, Jimmy.
And yet...
JIMMY:
I said don't touch anything!
I knew it was a snake.
Get out!
(sighs)
You told me
we could leave any time.
Right. So why didn't you?
I've been mean.
I have been angry.
I've been judging you.
Which was our one promise,
from the beginning.
If you were serious
about leaving,
then you would have gone by now.
You didn't leave, either.
I know.
I don't know why.
I think this may be impossible.
But can't that be okay?
I mean, the-the vast majority
of all human effort,
however great or miniscule,
ends in failure.
So, what are your options?
You just ad-admit pre-defeat
because the odds are
that you're gonna be right?
Or you do it anyway?
(sighs)
Maybe we're a success...
(chuckles softly)
regardless of the outcome,
because... we tried.
Maybe there's beauty
in the struggle
against near certain failure.
Is that enough?
A beautiful struggle?
Maybe. It's all
gonna suck one day,
so enjoy it now,
stop rocking the boat,
and that is goddamn it?!
It's like in my book.
Ugh, no more book.
Gretchen tired.
In chapter 12,
Kitty is headed to Lisbon
to follow Take That on tour,
but instead
she stays with Simon,
though they have
no possible future.
Oh, my God!
That's makes perfect sense.
That's why they stay together.
They are mirrors of you and I.
Theirs is a love forbidden,
thus... doomed.
Why is it forbidden?
Well, because
they're half-siblings.
Wait, what?!
Jimmy, we talking incest?
How did you miss that?
I wasn't listening that good.
Look, when I came up
with this story,
I was, I was falling in love
with you...
e-even though it was,
it was scary and-and wrong.
I thought that
I was avoiding my feelings
by writing my book,
but it was you
who was fueling me
this whole time.
Fueling you to write
about a couple of horny sibs?
Give me.
Show me the part
you cranked out last night
when you were all upset.
Oh, no way.
If you're experiencing
the sweeping psychodrama
of The Width of a Peach,
you're starting
at the beginning.
(chuckles)
Chapter one.
"A deep, orgasmic moaning
"came from behind
the undersized attic door,
"while far above,
"a German Sprengbombe
Cylindrisch 1000
"was falling towards
Catherine Wheel Alley,
City of London,
Post Code EC2N4RQ."
Why do we need the post...
Good writing is detailed.
Shh.
Oh, I've been so
jealous and awful.
I've been trying to get a job
for so long,
and then when it happened
for you so quickly,
I just... couldn't handle it.
Hey...
I was so intimidated by you
in our first class.
You did the whole intro
in that fake Norwegian accent.
My insecure vampire character.
Mm-hmm.
"Velcome to class.
"I vant to suck your blood...
(laughing) "because I suck."
Does this cape
make my fangs look fat?"
God, I was funny, huh?
You still are.
(phone ringing)
I'll be right back.
Edgar. Doug Benson,
DB Industries.
Listen,
I love your sketch ideas.
Still chuckling over
"Lying Lawyer
"is a Liar." I'm putting together
a writers' room for three months
and I need
you in it, starting Monday.
Uh, y-yes.
Y-Yes, Mr. Benson, of course.
Okay, I got to go.
I'm eating sushi
off this Israeli model's
naked bod
and the toro is getting warm.
(woman giggles)
Oh.
DOUG: Say hi, Tova.
Hmm. Who was that?
Uh...
my job.
I-I have to go in Monday,
uh, to the gym.
Uh, someone knocked a door
off of the shower stall...
in the men's locker room.
Colby and Travis?
We'll never know.
But, yeah, obviously. (Laughs)
(whispers) Yes.
You thought you could master me.
But I'm a person, Paul.
I'm not one of your hobbies.
You're right.
I wanted a family so badly,
I was willing to look past
the septendecillion pieces
of evidence that screamed,
"We are wrong for each other."
Think you can stay here
a little bit longer?
Just until we get
our affairs in order?
Of course.
I guess... in the end,
we were just two stars
born light-years apart.
You need to find someone
in your own constellation,
Lindsay.
Oh, Bear.
Mm.
So you'll throw away the prenup?
(exhales)
You stabbed me.
You cuckolded me.
You ruined my life.
Better lawyer up, bitch.
(gasps)
JIMMY: "Simon watched
the man exit the motel",
"and they were alone again.
"He, gazing at her,
"she, staring at
her own reflection.
"Both of them were watching
the same thing,
the tears filling Kitty's eyes."
(sighs softly)
Dude, keep going!
I need to know what happens
with Kitty and Simon and Bug.
I'm so worried about Bug.
Well, that's all I wrote.
Well, go finish it.
You know how it ends, right?
I do now.
But first...
I need to rest my eyes.
I've been up for two days.
Come here.
♪
We didn't solve anything.
I know.
Okay.
♪ This year,
I'll spend November ♪
♪ In the house
♪ August sort of stifled...
Shit.
That's nine.
♪ It's coyness, boy
♪ That caught you out
♪ I know you wish for fireworks
to light your July sky ♪
♪ I was the dampest
box of matches ♪
♪ You could ever hope to find
♪ I'm sorry, what?
I hear you, yeah ♪
♪ I was watching
the skin peeling ♪
♪ Off your sunburnt shoulders,
I know ♪
♪ I know you only melt
in the middle ♪
♪ Like ice cream and sunscreen
♪ Blisters in the pit
of my heart. ♪
(dog barks)
Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH
---
♪
"As Malcolm bent
the 17-year-old Sally
over the lip of his tanker desk,
he thought back to her baptism."
What the shit?!
"That summer day in '73,
every car radio
"blaring 'Search and Destroy, '
"a warm rain lashing down
like sweat flinging off
a groupie's bouncing tits."
It's like being molested by
an audio book. What is this?
"The Width of a Peach."
My masterpiece
of multi-generational
sexploitative literature.
Why the hell
would you read me literature?
You know I don't like
good things.
Last night, you said that
I would never be successful.
Well, I stayed up all night
and wrote 35 amazing pages
just to spite you.
So, ha! Consider yourself
thoroughly spited.
Ha!
Cool.
Okay, I take back
the thing I said.
You will be successful.
Thank you!
(laptop clatters)
Now it's your turn.
I'm proud of me, too.
No, Jimmy! It's your
turn to take back
the mega-harsh thing
you said to me.
And then, voilà, everything
goes back to Normal Town,
et cetera, et cetera...
A little makeup boneage.
Maybe some titty massages
for Jimmy.
Wait, what exactly
am I meant to take back?
(imitates Jimmy) "I can't see
myself having kids with her."
Oh, that.
No, I'm 100% sticking by that.
Hey, can we do this
titty massage on the patio?
I just want to keep an eye
on the hummingbird feeder.
Jimmy! You have dropped
eight iPhones in the last year,
one into a vat of ranch
at Souplantation.
Child-rearing
requires skill.
It's not the same
as binge-watching
a season of Exemplify.
Oh, my God!
That is so sexist
and mansplainy.
You a Gamergater?
Am I living with a Gamergater?
LINDSAY: Quiet, already!
Why is Lindsay here?
She dumped Paul hard.
I said she could crash.
Mmm...
Oh, my... (Jimmy sighs)
(sighs) Ah...
What?
I'm supposed to wear pajamas
like an old?
Mmm...
♪
♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway
♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway ♪
♪ Gonna leave you anyway.
Wakey-wakey.
I just wrapped up an
early-morning shift
cleaning a frat house
after a "Colonial Bros"
"and Nava-hos" party.
Got the puke cleaned up,
but the racism
and cultural appropriation
are gonna leave a stain.
Hey, I brought pastries.
Okay, but do you want to talk
about last night?
Oh, my God. I was so drunk.
I think I might have hit up
a Del Taco drive-through.
I'm missing my side mirror, and
my fingers smell like hot sauce.
Wait. You drove yourself home?
Sure.
Drunk driving is easy.
It's just like
playing a video game.
You totally freaked out
on me last night.
Well, you took me to a wedding,
and then you ditched me
to work on sketch ideas.
Who are you, Will Sasso?
This is my first writing job.
I didn't know anybody,
and you abandoned me.
Yeah. Well, okay,
I can see how that...
oh, was really sucky of me.
It was. Thank you.
You know, I'm happy for you.
I mean, shit, I'm a liberal.
God knows I should applaud
when an underrepresented
voice gets heard.
You mean veterans?
Yeah. That, too.
Hey, you want a pastry?
I-I just want to make sure
that you aren't implying
that I was hired
just because I'm Latino.
What? Of course not.
I don't even see race.
Hey, when did they put
this awesome eagle
on the Italian flag?
♪
(knock on door)
(knock on door)
Paul?
What you did was unspeakable!
Unconscionable!
Indefensible! Indedibble-dobble!
How could you abort that baby
without telling me?
It wasn't a baby, Paul.
It was just a bunch of cells.
You destroyed our family!
Name one family
that's just a bunch of cells.
Osmosis Jones.
Why does everyone
keep doing that?
What made you think
you had the right
to make that decision for us?
My body, my choice.
It's not that cut-and-dried
when you're married.
My body, my choice.
There's a difference between
claiming your
reproductive rights
and behaving like a complete...
My body, my choice.
Stop saying that!
No, Paul. You stop.
Me and my sisters,
we fought for this right
for millenniums.
This is why Margaret Thatcher
went to prison.
Can you please
put on some clothes
while we have this conversation?
No, Paul. My body, my choice.
And now,
I choose to go outside
and smoke.
Because it's my body.
My choice.
That's right, sucka.
(door closes)
♪
Look, I meant it as
a good thing, okay? Yes,
sometimes minorities
get jobs over white people,
even when they're both
equally qualified,
or maybe the minority is
slightly less qualified.
But I think that
that is good for the world,
and I simply got you
these cool and funky pastries
'cause they're cool and funky,
not because they're Latino,
or whatever.
Here, try one.
They're "pan dulthes."
(snickers) Wait.
What are you saying?
"Pan dulthes."
Edgar, they're "pan dulthes."
I pronounce everything
with a Castilian "S,"
because I studied abroad
in "Barthelona."
For you to say that I have
the advantage is insulting.
I mean, if anyone has
the advantage, it's you.
How do I have the advantage?
(chuckles)
You're a white girl.
There's literally a part
for you in every script
that's ever been written.
Not Glengarry Glen Ross
or 700 Sundays.
Besides, don't you read?
People just, like,
they hate women now.
You don't even have
to hide it anymore.
Yeah, well, you never read,
"Cut to funny brown guy
with perfect features."
You have the advantage. Yeah.
Because it's such
an advantage to be
constantly sexually harassed.
And it's so advantageous
to only be cast
as "Pretty Girl Number 3"
or "Overworked Mom."
I thought you didn't book
"Overworked Mom."
And it's such an advantage to
be slut-shamed for six years
because I accidentally sucked
Brian Dunkleman's dick
'cause I thought
he was Chris Hardwick.
Look, can we at least agree that
the true enemy here
is the white male?
JIMMY: Whoa!
Not me. I'm an immigrant.
Our story
is so tragic.
Do you know how many of us
drown every day
trying to get over here?
And the true villain is
the white American male.
Bad things happen
to white American men, too.
Real bad things.
You know, why don't I
let you white people
tell me how bad you all have it.
Jesus!
Oh, look, wife.
I'm about to rip
my lung tissue asunder
with the devil's tobacco
because my life has been
destroyed by the woman I love!
Your body, your choice.
You know, I almost left you.
When Vernon and I were
lost in the woods,
he wanted to bail
and go live in Mexico.
I should have gone
and started my life anew,
like John McAfee,
software millionaire!
Shoulda-woulda-coulda!
JIMMY: Right.
Can you two idiots
do this at your place?
No! If you send them home,
her wishy-washy ass
will be lured back into that
suck-butt marriage by lunch.
Shut up, Gretchen!
You shut up! Aw, shit!
Fine. Then just go and fight in my room.
Our room.
But don't touch anything,
don't sit,
and hands off the bed booze.
(sighs)
♪
What?!
Nothing. I just...
Sometimes I look at you
and I think,
"How did this person
get in my house?"
It's like I've lost
the thread of a novel,
and all of a sudden,
there's this
messy short woman
who's clearly important
to the story.
So, I'm flipping back, thinking,
"I don't remember that character
being introduced."
Tell me about it! Some days
it's like I un-blacked out
from a week-long bender, and
now I'm in this weird-ass house
with sharp corners.
My mate was supposed to be
so different.
Classy, unbruised,
a first-chair violinist
for the Philharmonic. (Chuckles)
God, can you imagine it?
Me in the wings
of Disney Hall.
And we wave good-bye
to the other musicians,
and I joke about
what a drag it must be
for Igor to haul
that double bass home.
And then Dudamel does
a champagne spit-take
and shakes his head at me like,
(Venezuelan accent)
"Oh, Jimmy, you are too much."
(laughs) How am I not
arm candy for some international
movie star with a giant dong?
Yeah. He's part owner of
a cool tech company
and invents apps when he's not
dick-punching Peter Sarsgaard
in his latest movie. Sometimes,
we talk about adopting a kid
from a third-world country,
but we never do it.
And we live in
a legit-ass castle
in Malibu with one of those
big modern art pieces
by the guy who does
the big dots.
What? Lichtenstein?
Yeah. A big old Lichtenstein.
Wow.
How very sophomore year
art history of you. (Chuckles)
You definitely shouldn't
decorate your own house.
(laughs, gasps)
(knocking) Knock, knock.
White lady visiting from
the Aryan zone. You still mad?
Maybe you only like me
when I'm struggling.
You think that I want you to struggle?
Think about it.
When we first met,
I was your insecure student.
Then I was your vet boyfriend
with PTSD.
Then I was a stoner
with no future.
But the second I get
a tiny bit of success,
you freak out.
You forced me to engage
in acts of sexual deviance.
But you started this!
You threw your bike
onto the street,
and said we were new people,
and I put on
that whole Napron-wearing,
good wifey act,
even though I was dying
on the inside.
You went along with
it for 20 minutes.
And then you stabbed me!
You want me to hide my bees
under a bushel.
You use your niceness
to stifle me,
and then you make me
feel guilty.
You stabbed me!
We both did things we regret.
Relationships are messy.
You're actually tearing apart
my hypothetical fantasy.
Now you want to tell me
what I can and can't imagine?
You admitted that
you don't like good things.
I'm just confirming that.
You should seriously shut up
sometimes, Jimmy.
Just shut all the way up.
I mean, what if I did
make something of myself? Hmm?
If I did
rise up there
to your level, why?
Why would that be so bad?!
Because I am not up there!
Okay?
I am down!
I am the downest
that I have ever been.
You want messy?!
I'll show you messy!
(yells)
Oh, no, Paul!
Now you're going
to have bad luck.
I have bad luck!
You're my bad luck!
God! You're so selfish.
There is something
seriously wrong with you.
Why did I marry you?
Why?!
(grunts)
Look, if your fantasy is so fragile...
Picking, pick, pick.
That I'm able to dismantle it...
Pick at everything I say and do.
Then maybe it wasn't so great
to begin with. I'm sick of living
underneath your highfalutin
surveillance state.
Plus, "hypothetical fantasy"
is redundant.
I just silenced
the judgy mom voice in my head.
I don't need another one
from you.
LINDSAY:
Stop using your big voice at me!
DOROTHY: Don't hug me.
Just let me be sad!
PAUL: I'll use my big voice
at you whenever I want!
I'm only using my big voice
with you now!
(Paul continues shouting)
(scoffs)
(sniffles)
(chuckles)
You... Come on.
You had a rough month.
You'll bounce back.
I'm a 30-something
failed actress
living in a disgusting
K-Town studio.
I haven't been
to the dentist in years.
My agent told me
to gain 20 pounds
so that I could at least
audition to be the kooky aunt.
(sobs)
(yells) Oh, God!
(grunting)
Oh, God. You ruined my life!
Why?! Why did you do it?!
Paul. (Groaning)
Look at me.
(panting) Paul.
You knew it was a snake
when you picked it up.
What?
You knew who I was.
You don't get
to act surprised now.
♪
(phone beeps)
Becca and Vernon had their baby.
It's a girl.
Tallulah.
Ew. (Phone vibrates)
(chuckles, sniffles)
Becca had her baby.
(phones chime)
(sighs)
Dorothy's crying.
It's very mucous-y.
Lindsay's just reciting the
spoken word parts of "Lemonade."
(scoffs)
Such idiots.
We're no better than them.
Oh, speak for yourself.
I'm not the one
who flung my sandwich
like a upset chimp at the zoo.
I threw it because
I realized I was living
with an uptight dildo
whose personality unmakes itself
anytime something bad happens.
Says the woman who spent weeks
catatonic on the couch
in crusty yoga pants.
I have a clinical goddamn illness!
Oh, right.
So you just win because your
condition is listed in the DSM?
No! I win because I am
doing something about it.
You're just lashing out
and putting me
under a microscope!
It just happened!
He just died.
Right, I am still grieving,
Gretchen.
Jesus Christ!
But I was there first! Where?!
Here! In shit, miserable!
There just isn't room
for you to be broken
right now, too.
Oh, that...
that is complete...
(exhales)
How is that okay?
It's not.
It is completely unfair.
No. This is not supposed to...
One person is supposed to be
in the hospital bed.
And then the other uncomfortably
sleeping on that little couch,
just sneaking home
to shower and...
(voice breaks)
And walk the dog.
Right? (Exhales)
Right, Jimmy.
And yet...
JIMMY:
I said don't touch anything!
I knew it was a snake.
Get out!
(sighs)
You told me
we could leave any time.
Right. So why didn't you?
I've been mean.
I have been angry.
I've been judging you.
Which was our one promise,
from the beginning.
If you were serious
about leaving,
then you would have gone by now.
You didn't leave, either.
I know.
I don't know why.
I think this may be impossible.
But can't that be okay?
I mean, the-the vast majority
of all human effort,
however great or miniscule,
ends in failure.
So, what are your options?
You just ad-admit pre-defeat
because the odds are
that you're gonna be right?
Or you do it anyway?
(sighs)
Maybe we're a success...
(chuckles softly)
regardless of the outcome,
because... we tried.
Maybe there's beauty
in the struggle
against near certain failure.
Is that enough?
A beautiful struggle?
Maybe. It's all
gonna suck one day,
so enjoy it now,
stop rocking the boat,
and that is goddamn it?!
It's like in my book.
Ugh, no more book.
Gretchen tired.
In chapter 12,
Kitty is headed to Lisbon
to follow Take That on tour,
but instead
she stays with Simon,
though they have
no possible future.
Oh, my God!
That's makes perfect sense.
That's why they stay together.
They are mirrors of you and I.
Theirs is a love forbidden,
thus... doomed.
Why is it forbidden?
Well, because
they're half-siblings.
Wait, what?!
Jimmy, we talking incest?
How did you miss that?
I wasn't listening that good.
Look, when I came up
with this story,
I was, I was falling in love
with you...
e-even though it was,
it was scary and-and wrong.
I thought that
I was avoiding my feelings
by writing my book,
but it was you
who was fueling me
this whole time.
Fueling you to write
about a couple of horny sibs?
Give me.
Show me the part
you cranked out last night
when you were all upset.
Oh, no way.
If you're experiencing
the sweeping psychodrama
of The Width of a Peach,
you're starting
at the beginning.
(chuckles)
Chapter one.
"A deep, orgasmic moaning
"came from behind
the undersized attic door,
"while far above,
"a German Sprengbombe
Cylindrisch 1000
"was falling towards
Catherine Wheel Alley,
City of London,
Post Code EC2N4RQ."
Why do we need the post...
Good writing is detailed.
Shh.
Oh, I've been so
jealous and awful.
I've been trying to get a job
for so long,
and then when it happened
for you so quickly,
I just... couldn't handle it.
Hey...
I was so intimidated by you
in our first class.
You did the whole intro
in that fake Norwegian accent.
My insecure vampire character.
Mm-hmm.
"Velcome to class.
"I vant to suck your blood...
(laughing) "because I suck."
Does this cape
make my fangs look fat?"
God, I was funny, huh?
You still are.
(phone ringing)
I'll be right back.
Edgar. Doug Benson,
DB Industries.
Listen,
I love your sketch ideas.
Still chuckling over
"Lying Lawyer
"is a Liar." I'm putting together
a writers' room for three months
and I need
you in it, starting Monday.
Uh, y-yes.
Y-Yes, Mr. Benson, of course.
Okay, I got to go.
I'm eating sushi
off this Israeli model's
naked bod
and the toro is getting warm.
(woman giggles)
Oh.
DOUG: Say hi, Tova.
Hmm. Who was that?
Uh...
my job.
I-I have to go in Monday,
uh, to the gym.
Uh, someone knocked a door
off of the shower stall...
in the men's locker room.
Colby and Travis?
We'll never know.
But, yeah, obviously. (Laughs)
(whispers) Yes.
You thought you could master me.
But I'm a person, Paul.
I'm not one of your hobbies.
You're right.
I wanted a family so badly,
I was willing to look past
the septendecillion pieces
of evidence that screamed,
"We are wrong for each other."
Think you can stay here
a little bit longer?
Just until we get
our affairs in order?
Of course.
I guess... in the end,
we were just two stars
born light-years apart.
You need to find someone
in your own constellation,
Lindsay.
Oh, Bear.
Mm.
So you'll throw away the prenup?
(exhales)
You stabbed me.
You cuckolded me.
You ruined my life.
Better lawyer up, bitch.
(gasps)
JIMMY: "Simon watched
the man exit the motel",
"and they were alone again.
"He, gazing at her,
"she, staring at
her own reflection.
"Both of them were watching
the same thing,
the tears filling Kitty's eyes."
(sighs softly)
Dude, keep going!
I need to know what happens
with Kitty and Simon and Bug.
I'm so worried about Bug.
Well, that's all I wrote.
Well, go finish it.
You know how it ends, right?
I do now.
But first...
I need to rest my eyes.
I've been up for two days.
Come here.
♪
We didn't solve anything.
I know.
Okay.
♪ This year,
I'll spend November ♪
♪ In the house
♪ August sort of stifled...
Shit.
That's nine.
♪ It's coyness, boy
♪ That caught you out
♪ I know you wish for fireworks
to light your July sky ♪
♪ I was the dampest
box of matches ♪
♪ You could ever hope to find
♪ I'm sorry, what?
I hear you, yeah ♪
♪ I was watching
the skin peeling ♪
♪ Off your sunburnt shoulders,
I know ♪
♪ I know you only melt
in the middle ♪
♪ Like ice cream and sunscreen
♪ Blisters in the pit
of my heart. ♪
(dog barks)
Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH