Original subtitles

Ah! Oh! Oh!

Oh! Oh!

Oh, God!

Oh! Oh, God.

Oh, God.

(moaning)

Oh, God. Oh...

Oh, God. Oh. God.

Oh, God.

I was picturing something entirely different.

I couldn't sleep.

So you decided to make your nipples hard?

Oh, the peas. No.

I was heating up some milk and...

You know, my nipple is hard.

If you can't sleep, why don't you just take a pill?

I don't believe in pills.

What about booze?

You believe in booze?

That's not sleeping-- that's passing out.

Pot-ay-to, pot-ah-to.

I just, I have a lot on my mind.

I don't need to drug myself.

Okay, in that case I doknow a great,

all-natural sleep aid.

What's that?

Sex. You should get yourself some sex.

It'll put you right out. Charlie.

Look at me. I can hardly keep my eyes open.

Well, sex is not really an option at the moment.

You're telling me you can't make a fist?

Just leave me alone.

How about exercise?

It's kinda like sex, but without the condom.

You know, that's not a bad idea.

Well, you shouldalways wear a condom.

No, I-I mean the exercise.

I-I could go for a run on the beach.

Sure, I've seen people do that.

Usually they have a dog, but I think that's optional.

Actually, that's a great idea.

Oh, where you gonna get a dog at this hour.

You really enjoy screwing with me, don't you?

Well, you don't pay rent.

You know what?

I'm gonna do it.

Pay rent?

No...

I'm gonna jog down to the pier and back.

Maybe I can burn off my excess energy.

Attaboy.

Nah, I prefer the tater-tots.

This will do it.

Burn off the energy.

That's interesting.

(humming Chariots of Fire theme)

Nice night for a run.

How rude.

HELICOPTER PILOT: This is the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department.

Stop running and drop to the ground with your arms spread.

Oh, no, no, no!

You've got the wrong guy!

The guy you want ran that way!

This is your last warning.

Drop to the ground with your arms spread.

You don't understand!

Follow me! I'll show you!

(siren wailing)

Put your hands behind your head and drop to your knees!

No, no, you don't understand.

I just couldn't sleep.

Release the dogs!

Dog-dogs?

No, no, no...

No dogs.

(dogs barking)

(dogs barking)

All right, all right, I'm coming.

(doorbell ringing)

This better be good.

Hey, it is good.

Charlie, tell them who I am.

I'm sorry, who are you?

Charlie, if you don't tell them who I am,

they're gonna take me to jail.

Why do you keep calling me Charlie?

Sir, is this man living here or not?

Define "living."

Charlie, I swear on my son's life...

Yeah, he lives here.

I told you.

I've got your badge numbers. I am gonna write

a scathing letter to... Shut up.

Thank you, Officers.

You are a credit to the Malibu community.

You have a nice evening.

At least this clown didn't ask if I was Jewish.

So.

How was your run?

* Men.

(drumming musically)

(both drumming)

(dishes rattle in time to the beat)

Enough... drumming.

Fine.

Bass solo.

* Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom... *

Come on.

I-I'd like to have a nice, quiet dinner.

And I'd like you to be a keno waitress

who can fit her entire hand in her mouth,

but here you sit.

I-I'm sorry, I'm a little cranky.

I haven't slept in two days.

Why don't you take a pill?

He doesn't believe in pills.

How can you not believe in them?

They're on TV all the time.

Let me tell you something, Jake.

Big pharmaceutical companies want you to think

you can take a pill for everything.

Can't sleep? Take a pill.

Can't wake up? Take a pill.

Feeling sad? Take a pill.

Can't get it up? Take a pill.

Can't get what up?

Can we just eat our dinner, please?

Can I got back to Mom's tomorrow?

Why?

I want to hang out with my friends.

What? All of a sudden your father's

not good enough for you?

It's not all of a sudden.

Come on, Alan, the kid's growing up.

He's got his own life now.

All right, fine.

How about you have your friends come over here?

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

No kids in my house.

I'm a kid.

Well, I don't think of you as a kid.

I think of you as more of a... gassy dwarf.

Charlie,

you said it yourself--

he's growing up.

Getting a life of his own.

He'll be going off to college soon.

I'll only see him on holidays...

only hear from him when he needs money.

Not that I'll have any.

I'll still be paying alimony to two ex-wives.

And college tuition?

That just means selling an organ or turning tricks.

And for what?

So that he can get a worthless piece of paper

that he can then fold into a hat

to wear to the fast-food job

that he will probably be fired from

for stealing fries from the customers' bags.

I dolike fries.

* Men.

(quietly): Sure, you can sleep.

You have no conscience.

Wake up!

What?

It's noon.

What day?

Saturday.

Thanks. See you Sunday.

Charlie, I have to go out.

I need you to watch Jake and his friend.

Friend?

I thought I said no kids.

You say lots of stuff.

Twice a week you say you'll never drink again.

I don't know what to believe anymore.

Where are you going?

I'm gonna have to run some errands.

So take the kids with you.

I can't.

Then run your errands later.

Oh, would you please just get

your drunken ass out of bed

and stop being a waste of skin for once in your life?!

Well, since you said "please."

Thank you.

I'm, I'm sorry I barked at you.

You still can't sleep, huh?

No.

Well, don't worry, I'm here for you.

I'll keep an eye on the kids.

I appreciate it.

No problem.

It's like he's never met me.

Nothing seems to work.

I-I've tried warm milk, exercise,

meditation, self-hypnosis.

Why don't you just take a pill?

Because I don't need a pill.

The root of my insomnia is psychological.

That is why I'm sitting here with you, a psychologist.

I'm a psychiatrist, a medical doctor,

which is why I can prescribe pills.

Is that some kind of shot at me

because I'm just a chiropractor?

No, of course not,

but I am a real doctor.

Look, can you help me or not?

You know, delve into my subconscious

and unravel the source of my problem?

Sure, I'll give it a shot.

So, when was the last time you had sex?

This has nothing to do with sex!

This has to do with alimony and ex-wives and child support

an-and writing checks I can't cover

and having to live on my brother's freaking hide-a-bed.

Okay, why don't we start with your brother?

What does my brother have to do with this?

Who's the doctor here?

Okay, that was a shot.

You got me.

Now tell me about your brother.

What is there to say? Um...

He's two years older than me, but much more immature.

He's charming and easygoing.

Of course, why shouldn't he be?

He's never had to work for anything in his entire life.

Money and women just seem to fall

into his big, fat, lucky lap.

So you resent him.

Oh, no, I love him. He took me in

when I needed a place to live.

Okay. You say you love your brother,

you're grateful for his help,

and yet it must be difficult to watch him sail through life

while you remain a complete and utter failure.

I didn't say I was a complete failure.

Huh.

Why is it in my notes?

Anyway, continue.

Okay.

Well, the worst part is

that as selfish and promiscuous as Charlie is,

he hasn't suffered any consequences.

No palimony suits, no bullet wounds from angry husbands.

Not so much as a lousy urinary tract infection.

And yet you love him.

Well, he's family.

Oh... Oh, I get it.

You think it's this internal contradiction

that's the source of my insomnia.

What do you think?

I think you may be right.

But how do I resolve it?

Well, that's a good question.

Unfortunately, we're out of time.

Already?

You dozed off for 40 minutes, Alan.

You going to charge me for that?

I was awake.

All right, fine. Can I write you a check?

Oh, boy.

Alan, you know, when a patient tells me they're writing checks

they can't cover, I kind of have a little cash only policy.

All right, where's the closest ATM?

Downstairs in the lobby.

I'll be right back.

I'll walk with you.

* Men.

(computer chimes)

(chuckles)

(computer chimes)

(chuckles)

(computer chimes)

(chuckles)

Hey.

What you doing?

Chatting.

With who?

Each other.

But you're in the same room.

(computer chimes) (laughing)

What are you typing? Is that about me?

No.

(computer chimes)

Down the hall on the right.

BRB.

"BRB"?

"Be right back."

Ah.

Well... YAD.

What's that?

You're a dog.

She's cute.

She's just a friend.

R-R-R-uff.

What are you doing?

Oh, come on, it's me you're talking to.

The big dog.

(howling)

You're starting to freak me out.

(doorbell rings)

GIRL: That's my mom.

I'll get it.

Okay, okay, I lied-- I like her.

Oh, really?

Yeah. Woof.

There you go.

Wait, don't open the door.

Why not? (doorbell ringing)

Coming.

Go to your room.

What are you nuts?

Please don't hit on her.

Hit on who?

Taylor's mom.

Why would I hit on Taylor's mom?

Well, because she's kind of pretty,

and you'll hit on anything with a pulse.

Where'd you get that?

My mom.

Oh, well...

And my dad, Berta, Rose, Grandma...

Okay, okay.

The UPS man...

All right.

And when you hit on people I know,

everything gets screwed up

where I have to find a new guitar teacher,

a new karate class, Cub Scout troop...

Okay, okay, I get it.

...godmother.

You don't have to worry.

I'm not going to risk our friendship over "kind of pretty."

So you won't hit on her?

Absolutely not.

Hi. I'm Taylor's mom.

Scratch that.

Great. Bye.

You promised.

No, no. No, no. The head that made the promise

is not the one that broke it.

And besides, you said she was just kind of pretty?

Who do you consider hot?

Taylor.

Taylor's 12.

Hello?

Come on, what's the worst thing that could happen

if I go out with your little friend's mom?

Do I have to explain it to you again?

My guitar teacher, my karate coach...

Okay, okay.

I can't show my face at the comic book store.

All right, but the worst thing doesn't have to happen.

Would you please just not go out with her?

Tell you what-- I'll make you a deal.

I'll give up Taylor's mom in exchange

for you washing my car once a week for the next month.

Done.

That includes Turtle Wax, tire dressing

and vacuuming the carpets. Oh, man.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, the woman is recently divorced.

I didn't ask for her number, she gave it to me.

Do you know what that means? No.

That means one, maybe two dinners, and...

You're waxing my car.

All right.

You're lucky you're not painting the house.

The sacrifices we make for our kids.

Hey.

Hey.

You look like crap.

Thank you. You look terrific.

I feel terrific.

The key is a good night's sleep.

Yeah, listen, uh,

I have to talk to you.

This is a bad time, Alan. How come?

Because you want to talk to me.

Okay, what?

Uh, you know I love you, right?

Alan, are you breaking up with me?

Would you just shut up and listen to me?

Pick one, Alan.

All right, all right, I talked to a therapist.

And I think I learned something.

Nah, too easy. Go ahead.

The thing is...

all these years of watching your life go so smoothly,

while I stumble back and forth

between humiliation and abject failure,

has resulted in me harboring a lot of anger

and jealousy towards you.

Yeah, I get that.

How could it not?

Anyway, I think the tension between my love for you

and my resentment of you is what's causing my insomnia.

And?

And I thought maybe if I got it out in the open,

it might help me sleep.

So how do you feel now?

Better, actually.

Like... like a weight has been lifted.

Well, good.

Yeah, maybe that's it.

Maybe all I needed to do was unload.

Well, a good unloading usually makes me drowsy.

You're disgusting.

True...

but I sleep like a baby.

And if I wake up fussy,

there's always something nearby to put in my mouth.

* Men.

(whistling tune)

I waxed your car.

What? What are you doing up?

You were out with Taylor's mom, weren't you?

No, I wasn't.

Are you sure?

I think I know who I was out with.

Okay, well, maybe you can explain this picture

of your perfectly waxed car in Taylor's driveway.

Where the hell'd you get that?

Taylor took it with her phone and e-mailed it to me.

Oh, okay.

Not my car.

What about this one of you

kissing Taylor's mom in front of the car?

Um...

Photoshop.

How was your date?

Very nice.

Bite me.

Okay, well, good night.

You said you wouldn't go out with her and you did.

I had to, Jake.

She called me.

What difference does that make?

I have to explain it to you?

I have to explain everything to you.

Okay, okay.

Let's say you're a hunter.

If a deer takes your gun, shoots itself,

then straps itself to the roof of your car,

you have to take it home and eat it.

What?

I'm sorry.

I can't make it any clearer.

If you keep seeing her, Uncle Charlie, you're gonna be sorry.

Whoa.

Is that a threat?

No, it's a promise.

What's the difference?

I don't know-- one's a threat and one's a promise.

(sighs)

Oh, come on, buddy, let's be reasonable here.

Your relationship with your little friend is what,

instant messaging and holding hands at the pep rally?

What's a pep rally?

Just listen to me.

Before you know it, you'll have forgotten all about Taylor.

And you'll have forgotten all about her mother.

No doubt.

But I guarantee you I'll be forgetting a lot more

than holding her hand at a pep rally.

Last chance, Uncle Charlie.

Ooh, I'm so scared.

(mocking): Last chance, Uncle Charlie.

(scoffs) Please.

CHARLIE: Jake...!

What's going on?

Nothing. Got to go.

You're dead.

You are so dead!

(screams)

(thud)

Damn it.

He went that way.

Great slime.

Thanks.

It's an old family recipe.

Where are you, you rat bastard?!

MAN (over speaker): This is the Los Angeles Sheriff's Department!

Get down on the sand with your arms spread!

It's okay!

I'm just trying to kill a kid!

Release the dogs!

(dogs barking)

* Men.

That's right.

Release the dogs.

(yawns)