Original subtitles

You jerk. It's not funny.

Yes, it is. Stop it!

(running footsteps) (door slams)

(dog barking)

FXX presents You're the Worst.

(birds chirping, dog barking in distance)

(grunts softly)

(sighs)

(clicking)

("What You Know" by Esther Holt playing)

* Darling

* Darling, I've been told

* Darling

* Darling, you're so bold.

(lighter clicking)

(urinating)

Hey, Jimmy!

*

(rooster crows)

* I'm gonna leave you anyway

* I'm gonna leave you anyway *

* Gonna leave you anyway.

(cows mooing in distance)

Thanks.

*

(doorbells jingle)

How's that fence holding up?

Fine, Jimmy.

(engine roaring)

(tires screeching)

(chuckles)

(door opens)

(door closes)

AUTOMATED VOICE: At the sound of the tone,

the time will be 2:58 and 30 seconds.

(tone beeps)

(banging)

Mmm-mmm.

Hey, Ringo.

What episode are we on?

JIMMY: Uh, 15.

(TV begins playing)

Hey, did your power go out last night?

Nope.

Mine did.

It's back on now.

Probably a loose hook-up.

RAE (over TV): So if you think this stunt

is a little too dangerous, then we can come up

with something else. COLT: We'll stick to the script.

HOWIE: Yeah, Colt's right. The only way we stand a chance

of making a buck on this picture is if we come in on budget.

HARRY: The budget doesn't matter; the world's waiting

to see my script.

HOWIE: Come on, Harry, do you really think

that the world is waiting to see a low-budget flick called... (knocking on door)

HOWIE and HARRY: Death Car Hookers.

(Harry laughs)

Goddamn it.

HOWIE: Come on. (Rae laughs)

HARRY: I rewrote the car wash scene, so we do it outside and we save...

Hey-ya, Burt.

Uh-huh.

We were just wondering if you wanted to take a walk with us.

A walk to where?

Uh, just a little walk, for fun.

The gas station's selling something called boba tea.

(laughs)

(TV chatter resumes indistinctly)

(sighs)

Goddamn old people.

(chuckles) That Fall Guy.

* And you know, in your heart

* There is no reason

* He can no more change your mind *

* Than you can change a season

* Oh

* How long has it been

* Since you said good-bye to him? *

* How long has it been?

(music playing in distance)

WOMAN: Hey, Jimmy.

Good set.

I've never heard a guy

do Meredith Brooks's "Bitch" before.

It was pretty cool.

Mm-hmm.

I read that book you recommended,

the Henning Mankell memoir.

It was really affecting.

Of course.

Yeah, I'll give you some more recommendations, if you like.

Thanks.

Hey, do you want to go for a drive, or something?

To where?

Nowhere, just... for fun.

I can't, but thank you.

(tools whirring)

(rock music playing, quiet chatter)

(doorbells jingle)

Hey, Jimmy.

Mm-hmm.

(horn honking)

MAN: Slow down, Burt.

A Sport and a Pastime isn't in yet,

but we can e-mail you.

I don't have e-mail.

Oh, well, we have SMS now.

I don't have a cell phone.

I'll check back.

Ow.

I swear,

that Fall Guy.

You know what we should do, Ringo?

Hmm? When the weather gets a little warmer,

get one of those projectors, watch Fall Guy

on the side of my trailer, under the stars.

Mm. Great idea. One more episode.

I want to see if Seavers is gonna land

that Jet Ski backflip.

Ooh, they have fluffer-grahams.

(chatter in distance)

Hey-ya, Burt.

What is this?

GAIL: Oh, Clifford's kids are visiting

from New Hampshire.

Say hi to Burt, family. (others greet)

Hey.

Can I, uh, pour you a glass of Chablis?

Best boxed wine money can buy.

I guess.

MAN: Don't get too close to the fire, there.

GAIL: I was just about

to play a song; I hope you don't mind.

Oh, God.

Oh, hush, you old grump.

* Oh, Danny boy

* The pipes, the pipes

* Are calling

* From glen to glen

* And down the mountainside

* The summer's gone

* And all the roses...

Do you live here?

* Falling...

Why are you asking?

This place is for old people.

Is it?

So why are you here?

They had a vacancy. Go away.

But this place is for old people.

This is getting very repetitive.

Does your grandma live here?

Oh, my God!

My grandmother doesn't live anywhere.

He lives here. Why do you live here?

I'll tell you what, I...

The entire point of the United States

is the guarantee of autonomy

and personal liberty.

What does that mean?

It means

it's none of your goddamn business

why he's living here.

MAN: Hey, now.

Burt.

You shut up.

Clifford, control your family.

Burt. Ugh!

To hell with this.

I'll have some more.

Hey.

That's a much better name than "fluffer-grahams."

(glass clinking)

BURT: Goddamn it.

(metal clattering)

Son of a...

Would you please shut up?

I lost my goddamn keys! They're not on the hook!

Oh. Well, then, by all means, wake me

from my erotic slumber.

Janis Joplin was just about to go onstage.

I always put them on a goddamn key hook.

But they're not there.

Son of a gun,

shit turd pile.

(doorbells jingle, quiet chatter)

We're on episode 22.

Jesus, man, your memory.

I don't want to watch.

What? Did more of your friends die?

You think you'd be used to it by now. Come on.

It's a stupid show.

What is he, a stuntman or a crime fighter?

Pick one. He's living a lie.

Fine. Well, let's go to the library

and pick something else out.

There's a, there's a little show called Nash Bridges.

I don't have my goddamn keys.

How can we go to the library if my keys are missing?

What, and you think they'll be in this box of old crap?

I don't know. I've looked everywhere.

Goddamn.

(chuckles)

Me and Marty Szymanski.

We rode motorcycles across Australia in the '60s.

A goddamn wallaby made me lay down

going 50.

Fractured my tibia.

(chuckles)

It was a great trip.

Right, library. I'll drive.

Fine, Ringo.

But BMWs are for lady travel agents.

I'll lie down in back so no one sees me.

JIMMY: House of Cards.

A-Team. Wonderfalls. Deadwood.

Takes place when you were a child.

Ugly Betty. The Profiler.

Yeah, you're right.

The DVD selection is pathetic here.

But what do you expect from a town whose tax money

all goes to opioid treatment and bark beetle eradication?

We could drive into town.

Why don't you just call a locksmith to make you new keys?

I'm not gonna pay someone 500 goddamn dollars

to make a new key for my own goddamn car.

That's exactly what

we don't need: more garbage and confusion.

Everything in this country

is disposable! Something goes wrong,

throw it out!

Drive to Walmart. Buy a new one.

You can't. No keys. Burn.

Chinese can make you another, three cents on the dollar.

Who cares if it's covered

in dog dust and toxic paint?

They're my keys,

and I need to have my keys!

Goddamn it!

L.A. Law.

Just get in.

No. That car is all I have.

What about you and Marty whatever with the motorcycles?

Marty died in 1997.

No, I meant you have the photo.

Burt?

Burt. Burt!

What are you...? B...

Lunatic.

Hello, Jimmy.

Yeah.

So, uh, how's Burt been the last few days?

Appalling.

He's acting like a little bitch, frankly.

He threw a tantrum and ran into the woods.

He's probably dead in a gulley by now.

I was afraid of that.

This must be a big adjustment for him.

I know how much he loves that silly car.

There's anything you can do to help

keep his mind off it or cheer him up

a little bit... (clears throat)

Listen.

Can I confide in you, Jimmy?

Please don't. It's just that...

Read the room, Gail.

Even before you turned up,

Burt had already been...

well...

we concluded it was best if he didn't drive anymore,

so I took his keys.

I hate to deceive him,

but he won't face reality.

There are certain things I can't do anymore.

Bend down. Read without a magnifying glass.

Menstruate.

The point is you learn new things.

Like, I'm learning HTML

and glassblowing.

I made this jellyfish.

Anyway, I...

We just care about him a lot.

Thanks for keeping this between us.

("Meadow Hopping, Traffic Stopping, Death Splash" by Clarence Clarity playing)

(electronic vocalizing)

*

Gail. Eight out of ten.

Would bang.

* Oh, oh, and I'll make you lap it up, up, up *

* Oh, oh, and I'll make you lap it up, up, up *

* You got that nothing-something violence *

* I could never know, but

* You got my vengeance coming

(electronic vocalizing)

*

*

Yeehaw!

Slow down! Slow down, Burt!

Jesus Christ!

Nope.

BURT: Yeehaw!

(shouting)

(car horn honking)

Yeah.

(sighs) That batty Gail, thinking you wouldn't tell me.

I should have had her arrested.

I still might.

The one inalienable right we all have

is the right to be left alone.

It's sad, Jimmy; these people, my peers,

they used to be robust, ballsy, young.

Now they're these husks huddled against what, death?

So petrified of life

that the minute they see someone actually living,

they have to shut it down so it doesn't remind them

they gave up years ago.

Right. Now we can finally get back to it.

L.A. Law.

It's a bit dated, but there's a satisfying Albee-esque bite,

if you can see past the mullets and baggy suits.

Being without my car made me feel...

(chuckles) ...I felt old.

Like them.

So, I'm hitting the road.

What?

I used to live in Cape Coral.

I figure I'll drive down, see how it's changed,

and visit some of my old buddies from the Navy

down in the Keys, if any of them are still alive.

I'm talking five, six days to get down there,

just me and the open road.

Are you seriously leaving?

Don't cry, Ringo.

You can watch L.A. whatever without me.

The thing is...

yes, Gail has terrible taste in lawn ornaments

and literature

and jogging attire, but maybe she has a point?

You ran over my hibachi three times, man.

No, I didn't.

What? Okay, well, yes, you did, first of all.

That is disturbing that you deny it.

But listen, Burt,

right, I'm not gonna talk down to you, okay?

You are an adult.

My God, it's pathetic for anyone

to live in anything but the truth.

Okay? And your truth

is, Burt, you are no longer a driver.

I-I used to find it amusing.

Old man in a hot rod.

But Gail's right. You are dangerous.

No, I'm not.

And even if you make it to Florida, you're gonna be alone.

I like being alone.

Burt, you have people here who care about you.

Out there, zero.

Just... live in reality, man.

You're serious?

You've been hiding out

in a retirement community where your only friend

is a 71-year-old who can barely stand you.

It's been three months.

You ever wonder why I never asked what you're hiding from?

Because it's none of my goddamn business!

But you might want to ask yourself that question

before you try to interfere in my life.

You're only 71?

Jesus Christ.

What were you? A Nepali Sherpa?

(laughs) You look like

a boat dock came to life.

Remind me to moisturize

next time.

(groans)

JIMMY: You're all witnesses!

You all saw that!

MAN: Come on, Burt.

Oh, thank you.

(car horn honking)

*

*

(blows)

*

(chuckles softly)

(phone vibrating and chiming rapidly)

(rapid vibrating and chiming continue)

(sighs)

Jimmy!

The bitch did it again!

Jimmy!

Jimmy!

*

Jimmy?

*

Hey, guys, slow down a little.

(indistinct chatter over speakers)

(phone ringing)

MAN (on screen): God, I hate these buildings.

Air conditioning goes down, place smells like

the inside of a garbage disposal.

BOY (whispering): This is so boring.

I just want to go home. Look at their hair.

BOY (whispering): This was made in the '80s.

GIRL: Do you think I would know this?

(both groan)

Shh.

("Are You My Love?" by Kelley Stoltz playing)

* Are you my love?

* Are you my love?

* Are you the one that I've been thinking of? *

* Are you my love?

* I've been holding the door

* I've been holding the door

* Are you the one that I've been waiting for? *

* I've been holding the door

* Lightning struck

* Electricity rained

* How my lips stung

* From whispering your name

* Tell me, baby, true.

(dog barks)

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH

I don't know. The timing just felt right.

I was like, "Is this really happening?"

I looked her in the eyes and just knew.

It's a moment I'll never forget.

-(sighs) -(sighs)

I would dump her again in a heartbeat.

I hope he's morbidly disfigured

in a horrific Jet Skiing accident.

An FX original series

from director Guillermo Del Toro

and executive producer Carlton Cuse.

The final chapter begins.

The Strain.

All new Sundays at 10:00 on FX.

Duke, pick something, baby. Come on.

How are you? Great.

(register beeping)

(low, distorted voice) Duke, I am your mother.

(cackles)

(beeping) Duke.

Duke.

Come on.

(distorted voice) Hello.

(beeping)