Original subtitles

Oh, good.

My rosary beads didn't dampen your appetite.

You and I have a big problem.

Oh, no. Tell me.

Without me, Dr. Lorraine Colavito's not a doctor,

she's not a therapist, she's a small-time drug dealer.

That was all you?

- She didn't even have a hat. - Wowsville.

Walt, I left a tube of ointment on your nightstand.

You're the best, Nance.

I chafe easily.

- What are we gonna do about it? - Wait, you got to ask?

We're gonna make it right.

I'm half this business. Actually, 70/30.

I could put that hat on a donkey.

Enough said. Authorship is what

makes capitalism work.

- Otherwise, we're just China. - Damn right.

Here's what I suggest.

You and I don't leave this room

until we have hammed out a deal

that works for you and works for me.

What about Lorraine?

What about her?

You s...

- Where's Anthony? - Uh, Mom took him to school.

Good. We need to talk.

- That's usually my line. - Yeah. She got to go.

After she just went through? You want to just throw her out?

I want to take her to a dog hospital and put her down.

Danny, no one could have seen this coming.

No one? How many of your stepdads did she bury?

- She stays. - Oh, that's it? Sandra...

I mean, she caused a murder-suicide.

- What's it gonna take? - I can't explain it to you.

You didn't grow up with a real family.

Yeah, I grew up in a foster home and you know what I learned?

Thank God for Child Protective Services.

- Oh, hi. - Hi.

I'll be in my room.

Look at her.

She's devastated.

Oh, yeah, she's Jackie Kennedy

with brains all over her dress.

Pack her in a box, call UPS, she got to go.

Danny.

No.

Oh, wonderful. We're on TV.

What?

Parked outside

stately Mahnanga Manor.

Oh, thank God. I'll be right down.

Grandma! I got to go.

Have a nice day.

- Did he poop? - No, not yet.

Great. So he'll do it on my watch.

Easy with the wet wipes. They don't flush.

For so many years I prayed

for a man to come along who wasn't

bossy and opinionated.

And look at this.

My prayers have been answered.

Next time, I'll be more specific.

Hey.

How's Frank?

Constipated. How are things in Death Valley?

I got to get rid of Sandra's mother.

Word to the wise.

Make it look like an accident.

Right, so you got Texans minus three,

Jets plus seven... good luck with that one...

and you want to parlay Vikings-Packers over 51

with Seattle-Tampa Bay under 47?

You got it, honey.

- 500 on each. - You're down.

- You have a nice voice. - No, I don't.

Any chance you might want to hook up tonight?

What? No. - You sure?

I got a place in the Colony, right on the beach.

Do a couple of lines, watch the sunset.

That's a really nice offer, but I'm seeing somebody.

So am I.

So you're okay that I'm 67 years old?

Good luck, 112.

- You got bets for me? - Yeah. Here.

Jesus, it's like a ransom note. Where'd you learn to write?

- If you want, I can enter it. - No, I got it.

So, any word from our Orange County connection?

Why?

What do you mean why? You made him our partner.

- So? - So it's not a weird question

if words have been exchanged.

- I haven't heard from him. - Thank you.

- Where's my sugar-free Red Bull? - I drank it.

- Did you see my name on it? - As a matter of fact, I did.

- Here's the action I took this morning. - Thank you.

See, Hector?

This is what a grown-up's handwriting looks like.

- Where's my brother? - Uh, he's on a call.

Murder-suicide, Sandra.

Murder-suicide.

Saw him on TV this morning.

The dope was waving at the helicopter.

How you been doing?

I'm okay.

- Little lonely. - I'm sorry.

Between Grandma and Frank, I'm kind of overwhelmed.

You could pick up the phone.

Oh, please, don't start with me.

Oh, when I start with you, you'll know.

We're out of hand soap.

Do I look like the fucking janitor?

Hey. There they are... my dream team.

What?

They call 'em the Cleveland Browns,

but when they bite the pillow Monday night in Steel City,

I'm-a call them my biatch!

That's right, y'all.

We are snorting all the points with Pittsburgh, right?

And when you get paid,

don't forget to smash that like button

and show respect, all right?

This is my Locko from Rocko

AFC North Divisional Home Dawg Game of the Year.

Goddammit!

The fuck?! I'm on air.

Really? I'm about to go live with my picks.

Then pay us and we'll get out of your way.

Just let me finish and I'll give you your money.

He has picks.

It's like you selling birth control.

All right, Locko Rock Nation,

you know en fuego with my totals.

17 and one.

What? What?

It's unprecedented, it's documented,

it's "fur-mented."

Okay, listen.

Sunday afternoon, you got the two best offenses in the game,

Dallas and Detroit, Motor City and America's Team.

Now, Vegas put this at a whopping 57.

What? What?

But John Q. Public ain't skurred.

Those fuckin' idiots pushed it to 58.

That's why you and me? Listen, shh.

You and me? Listen.

We're gonna feed from the contrarian side of the buffet.

We're going under, under, under, under, under, under, under,

under, under, under, under, under, under,

under, under. under, under, under, under.

Sell the wife, sell the kids, sell the house,

sell the swing set and fuck the nanny,

and put every penny you have

on Locko Rocko's total of the century.

Smash that like button and subscribe, subscribe.

Platinum paywall members, this means you.

Don't wake up Monday morning with a soggy dick in your hand

being like, "I should've listened to Rocko."

No, you listen now. Do what I tell you, now!

Locko Rocko out!

What'd you think?

I think you owe use 42 grand.

Fuck.

Mom!

You do realize we're sitting on a lot of fresh cash.

Time to call Lurch?

I got nothing better.

Mr. Colavito, how can I help you, sir?

We have some more cash that needs to find a home.

I'm sure that we can get that done.

How's tomorrow?

Actually, I am currently in Sacramento

putting your initial investment to work.

How's Monday?

See you then.

Is that a monkey?

No, that is a child

with some sort of protective headgear, poor thing.

See you on Monday.

Sounded like a monkey.

What the fuck?

Are you kidding me?

No, no!

Walt, we got a problem.

Son of a bitch!

Who knew about this?

You, me and Hector.

Hector.

- Oh, shit. - "Oh, shit," indeed.

- You tell anybody about this? - No.

- Well, I didn't. - This is what I get for working with amateurs.

Hey, I'm not the problem here.

You're saying I am?

Well, one of you two assholes shot your mouth off

and now we're out of business.

There's only one asshole here.

- It's her. - Oh, children.

Fucking children.

God.

You're a disgrace to the hat.

Oh, shit.

- What? - That's Janelle's ride.

Who's Janelle?

Baby mama number two.

- You told her where you live? - Fuck no!

Tell you what.

I'll go in your house if you go in mine.

All right, there you go.

Good job, baby.

Good job.

Hey.

- This is a nice surprise. - It is, isn't it?

I think we got a quarterback here, Rayfield.

Well, I was hoping he grows up to be a Jewish lawyer.

When were you gonna tell me you were living in Brentwood?

Let's go say hi to Frank.

He makes boom-boom in his diaper, too.

I'm living in Brentwood.

While me and your son are living on Pico Boulevard?

- Ain't nothing wrong with Pico. - I got a registered sex offender

living downstairs.

What you want from me, Janelle? I'm trying to give

- my grandma a good life. - Yeah, well, my attorney said

that Ray Junior is entitled to the same standard of living

- as his father. - You talked to an attorney?

- What'd I just say? - We had an agreement.

An attorney's gonna want to know what I do for a living.

We pull that thread, we'll all be out on the street.

You're gonna stand there and tell me this is fair?

Life ain't fair, Janelle.

- We had a one-night stand. - It was a three-day weekend.

- We were both consenting adults. - I was still in high school.

You know what?

Maybe I should just call your other baby mamas

and give 'em your new address.

Check and mate, motherfucker.

Okay, give me one I can hit. Right about there,

that's where I like 'em.

Hey.

Hey.

You busy?

Why? You need help packing?

I need you to hear me out.

Longest one I ever saw.

I am so sorry for what happened,

and I know that there's no words

that can ever make it right.

- Goodbye's a word. - Oh, Danny.

You have no idea how many times I've replayed

the events of the last few days.

Maybe if I'd worn something more sensible poolside.

That's your fix?

Hide the goodies?

I don't know.

I'm trying to make sense of this.

- It's a Greek tragedy. - Come on.

Could you just move this along? I want to get drunk,

stumble into the pool, hit my head and die.

Give me another chance.

I can help with Anthony,

- Sandra. - How?

Well, Anthony, as you know, is a very special child...

No, not Anthony. Sandra.

Well, that's easy.

I mean, aside from my peccadillo,

you two have been getting along pretty well.

- Right? - I guess.

The walls are thin, I haven't heard any harsh words.

No, not really.

How are things in the bedroom?

Okay.

The walls are thin.

For a couple your age,

they're fantastic.

- Yeah, all right. - So what's different?

You're saying it's you?

I'm saying I have a leveling effect on my daughter.

When I'm not around, she's had a tendency

to go to extremes.

- Like? - Oh, I don't know.

She was, uh, briefly engaged to a guy on death row.

- You're kidding. - And of course there's the time

that she smuggled drugs in her snapper.

- Jesus. - You thought you married Marie Osmond?

I knew there was stuff, but marone, fuck.

Trust me.

You want me around.

You mind if I tell Sandra you staying is my idea?

I wouldn't have it any other way.

Hiya, Babe Ruth.

You know, I was just thinking maybe we just...

write off what happened with the neighbors as an anomaly

and give your mother a break.

Did she say anything to you?

Nah, I'm just...

trying to do the right thing.

Oh, Danny, thank you.

Ah, no big deal.

Ah, I'm sorry.

Who do you know in Costa Rica?

An offshore book.

They want to do some business.

You need to take that?

Nah.

What do you think?

Want to give your bad dog a bone?

Yes, I do, very much.

Come on, you can talk dirtier than that.

I can't. I... I get embarrassed.

Just try.

Okay.

- Fuck you, dog. - No.

Not like that. Like, like...

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard,

I'll destroy your pussy."

- Is that what you want? - Well, no, not literally.

It's just dirty talk. It's fun.

All right.

I'm so mad at your pussy,

I want to mess it up.

- You can just take your bathing suit off. - Yeah, okay.

Ooh, what's my mean, old bookie

gonna do if I can't pay?

Oh, you don't want to know.

Oh, yes I do.

Okay, give me a minute.

Oh, Danny, for God's sake,

just say you're gonna fuck me.

One fucking, coming at you!

May I have your attention, please?

Thank you. I'm Walt Dinty.

Thank you all for coming.

The expansion of consciousness...

the yearning for truth

that is the God-given right of every human being...

has long been monopolized by the left.

The libs. Dare I say it?

The hippie pedos.

Well, that changes today.

With American-grown psilocybin.

Every one of us

can look God in His white, blue-eyed face

and say, "I knew You looked like me."

So, with no further ado,

I would like to introduce you to a graduate

of Stanford's psychedelic research facility,

your Sherpa on this spiritual mountain climb,

the world-renowned Dr. Nancy Rinpoche.

I figured I take the high road. Less traffic.

I don't know if it's the high road, but I worked things out

- with Janelle. - What, you make it look like an accident?

No, I offered to come let her live in guest house.

You're gonna live with your ex-girlfriend

and she's gonna see you coming and going?

It's the guest house, it has its own entrance.

Oh, fuck me.

Maybe you could go live on Pico.

Rayfield.

- Rayfield! - Aw, damn.

I got to go wipe dookie off an old man's ass.

Poor bastard.

Wonder if I could fuck again?

What's going on?

He's gone, Rayfield.

The Lord took him.

He's with the angels now.

Why are you holding a pillow?

I'm not.