Original subtitles

(both breathing heavily)

Well, that was just lovely.

I do aim to please.

And, after last time, I appreciate the aiming.

Hey, we made good time.

I can let the babysitter go early.

The key is efficient foreplay.

Minimal attention to each breast

before I meander to your dander.

Spoon?

Sure.

Ah! Ah!

And... switch.

Ah! Ah!

That was fun.

It always is.

Okay, well, drive safe.

I always do.

I know. I'm just a worrier.

I know you are.

Bye-bye. Bye-bye.

Wow.

I get more tongue from my butcher.

I'm sorry.

Did you consider making your presence known?

Clear your throat, maybe a little cough?

I wanted to vomit, but I was afraid it might break the mood.

Hey, hey, postcoital kissing is always more platonic.

Is it?

Yes. Because, well,

we both know where our mouths have been.

I see.

But, in the bedroom,

there was a lot of saliva

and heat and friction, believe you me.

Really?

Yes, really.

Okay, it may not have been crazy hot monkey sex

like when we first started dating,

but it was very much in the general category of jungle humping.

Jungle humping?

Yes. Maybe not, you know, tree swinging,

but certainly canoodling on some low-hanging branches.

You poor bastard.

Don't you dare feel sorry for me!

This is what an adult relationship

looks like, Charlie.

People get comfortable with each other,

and they develop a routine.

And, if it's not always fireworks and explosions,

well, that's a reasonable trade

for a warm, collegial partnership.

You poor, poor bastard.

This conversation is over.

If only.

Okay, it's boring! It's suffocating! It's a deathwatch!

But what choice do I have, Charlie?

Pretend I'm you? I'm not you.

I'm a monogamous, settle-down kind of guy

who hangs on to a relationship

until I'm looking at divorce papers

or the pointy end of a steak knife.

Oh, that's a load of crap.

You're just afraid, if you let go of one of these broads,

you're never going to get laid again.

Didn't I just say that?!

* Men, men, men, men, manly men, men, men *

*Ooh-ooh... *Men.

(men yelling on TV)

Boxing sucks.

As always, you're entitled to your stupid opinion.

Why are you making it personal?

I didn't make it personal.

In Ultimate Fighting, they kick, they elbow,

they get a guy down and smash his head on the floor.

These guys just dance around and barely hit each other.

Okay, okay, listen to me.

Boxing is a science.

Boxers don't just wail on each other.

They strategize, feel each other out, wait for an opening.

Gay.

What's with the little pillows on their hands?

Even if they hit each other, it wouldn't hurt.

Ow!

Oh, does that hurt?

Yeah.

Good.

Hey, what are you doing?

Uncle Charlie hit me.

Good.

Where have you been?

I'll... I'll tell you later.

Tell him now.

I got better things to do.

You promised he'd grow on me.

I lied.

So where were you?

Well, I thought about what you said,

and I went over to Donna's house to break up with her.

I'm proud of you.

Thanks.

I'm going to meet her parents next weekend.

But you just said...

I know what I said, but I just...

I couldn't do it.

I'm not capable of rejecting another human being.

Wow. I'd think, after all these years,

you'd want to get even.

I am in trouble here, Charlie.

How do I get out of a stagnant, joyless relationship?

If I knew how to do that, you wouldn't still be living here.

Okay, first...

(turns off TV)

You gotta get your mind right.

How do I do that?

Close your eyes, and imagine a parallel world

where there's an Alan Harper exactly like you.

Uh-huh.

Except he's got a set of balls.

You want to help me here or not?

It's gotta be fun for me, too.

Fine. We'll just assume that your mind is right.

Now,

before you do the actual dumping,

there's a few things you've got to consider.

Like what?

Well, does she have any embarrassing photographs of you

that can wind up on the Internet if she takes it badly?

I'm not sure.

What do you mean, you're not sure?

Well, there's one of me naked,

but I'm wearing a mask and a cape.

I thought the sex was mundane.

Sadly, it still was.

Whatever, she can't use the picture.

Does she have any of your credit card information?

No.

Don't answer so quickly.

I once handed a date my Visa so she could pump gas for me,

and, in my next statement, there were charges

for a boob job and a Playstation 3.

And I never got to play with either one of them.

You made your date pump gas?

I liked the song that was on the radio.

But back to the topic at hand.

Does she own any chick weapons?

Chick weapons?

You know.

Little guns, Tasers, pepper spray?

Well, there's a baseball bat by her front door,

but I think that's for intruders.

Yeah, I've made that mistake, too.

Okay.

Let's talk about the where, when and how.

Where.

Always break up in a public place.

That way, you avoid having a scene.

That makes sense.

When.

Before the dessert menu comes out.

Otherwise, you can find yourself with a lap full of hot coffee,

which is not as much fun as it sounds.

That doesn't sound fun.

It sounds fun if you're wearing a couple of doughnuts.

Moving on to how.

What you want to convey

is your undying affection and gratitude

for your time spent together,

But that's a load of crap.

It's all crap, Alan.

You know it, she knows it, everybody knows it.

All we're trying to do here

is keep her from taking batting practice on your kidneys.

Why would she go for my kidneys?

Because you'll be running away covering your head.

Okay, okay. So... so I take her to dinner and,

then before the coffee comes, I tell her that,

while I still have strong feelings for her,

I need time to find out who I really am.

Excellent.

Yeah. Maybe... maybe I can throw in some stuff

about how I'm still reeling from my divorce.

Don't improvise. You don't have the chops for it.

Sorry.

No problem.

I do appreciate the advice.

You're very welcome.

(turns on TV)

(men yelling at boxing match)

(turns off TV)

A mask and a cape, and the sex was boring?

What can I say?

She still knew it was me.

* Men.

How do I look?

What difference does it make?

You're breaking up with her.

I don't want my clothes to say, "Come hither."

Don't worry. As always, they say,

"Your regular teacher is sick."

You clear on everything I told you?

Yes, yes. I'm going to go to her house,

pick her up, take her to the restaurant...

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Pick her up?

You're supposed to meet her there.

Why?

What do you mean, why?

You're gonna breakup with her, then drive her home?

You'll need the Jaws of Life to get her out of your car.

You didn't say anything about that.

It's common sense.

You know why Custer and Sitting Bull

didn't share a pony to Little Big Horn?

Because they knew there were

going to be some hurt feelings,

and the ride home would be awkward.

You know what?

I'm just going tocall her and reschedule.

No, no, no, you're not.

Here's what you're going to do.

You're going to pick her up,

you're going to have a nice dinner,

you're going to drive her home

and walk her to her door.

What if she asks me in?

No. Never go inside.

Everything in her house is a potential weapon.

Everything?

I was once blinded for two days by potpourri.

So, you just walk her to her door,

take her by the hand,

and tell her that you've had wonderful times together,

and those are the memories you will always cherish.

You know, we did have wonderful times.

Hiking in Catalina, go-karting in Oxnard,

Oktoberfest in Rosemead.

Oh, what a day that was!

Sharing bratwurst and sauerkraut

while listening to the battle of the oompah bands.

Oh, God! Do you think I'm making a mistake?

No, no, no, no, no, no. The mind plays tricks on us.

It only remembers the good times.

Or, in your case, the creepy, pathetic times.

But I... I still...

Don't worry, Alan.

There'll be other broads to share your bratwurst with.

You're right. I have to do this.

Wait, wait. What...

What if she starts crying?

You hold her in your arms,

whisper that this is best for both of you,

then turn around and walk away like a man.

Unless

you hear a distinct metallic click.

Then zigzag and roll.

* Men.

Hi. Come on in.

Uh... uh... That's okay.

I'm kind of hungry. Let's just go.

Well, actually, I thought we could stay in tonight.

Really?

I'm making fondue. Come on.

Oh, goody.

Hot cheese and long, sharp forks.

* Men.

(theme from Jaws playing on TV)

This movie is stupid.

This movie is a classic.

It's been 40 minutes, and we haven't even seen the shark yet.

That's because they're building suspense.

Letting you use your imagination.

You know what I'm imagining?

A better movie.

It's a classic, Jake.

I'll tell you what's a classic.

Snakes on a Plane.

'Cause first of all, you're in an airplane

which is scary to begin with,

and then it's all filled with snakes.

And they're everywhere.

They're in the overhead compartments,

they're in the bathrooms, they're in the vomit bags.

You need to throw up, open the bag-- snake!

Sounds gripping.

Snake!

( Jaws theme playing)

Snake!

That's it, we're out of here.

Where are we going?

Someplace public where killing you would get me in trouble.

Fine.

Snake! (gasps)

Great fondue, Donna.

Glad you liked it.

Oh, don't forget to put away the little forks.

Thanks.

Be right back.

Oh, good Lord.

We've had wonderful times together, Donna.

And those are memories I will always cherish.

DONNA: What?

Nothing.

Uh-oh, potpourri.

I made coffee.

Hot coffee?

Well, yeah.

Of course it's hot.

Duh. (chuckles nervously)

Oh, oh, my.

That is potentially scalding.

Blow on it, silly.

Yes. Blowing.

You blow, too.

So, uh, so, listen, Donna, um,

there's something we really need to talk about.

What's that?

Well, I was wondering...

Ar-Ar-Are you completely happy in this relationship?

Oh, good.

Then it's not just me.

What do you mean?

Well, I enjoy spending time

with you, but, honey, I kind of feel like

we're getting a little stale.

Really? I thought it was going great.

Come on, Alan.

Our sex life is pathetic.

We're just going through the motions.

Well, now, now, hold on.

Those, uh, those motions are tried and true.

Call it whatever you want--

tried and true, dull and listless...

I want to call it tried and true.

All I know is, every time we get in bed, it's the same old thing.

The same old thing?

What about the mask and cape?

It was the same old thing in a mask and cape!

Please don't take it personally.

Oh, no, no, how can I possibly take it personally?

You're just telling me I'm a lousy lay.

I didn't mean lousy.

I meant uninspired, lackluster, predictable...

Okay.

Tedious, mind-numbing, boring...

All right, all right, all right, that's it.

Come upstairs with me.

I will show you tedious, mind-numbing and boring!

Oh, oh, oh, oh!

Oh, God, I'm sorry!

Hot! Hot! Hot! Hot!

What can I do?!

I don't know! Just do something!

Whoa! Oh! Oh!

Oh!!

Oh!

How can you say this is boring?

* Men...

Wait till you try this.

This is the best pizza in town.

Says who?

They put a flier on my mom's windshield.

It said "Best pizza in town."

Jake, let me give you a little culinary advice.

Any restaurant that advertises on windshields

and has a guy standing out front dressed as a hoagie

is probably not the best in town.

He wasn't a hoagie, he was a calzone.

(sighs)

Amazing.

What?

How can a kid

with such lousy taste in pizza and movies

have such good taste in girls?

She is kind of cute.

Why don't you go talk to her?

I don't know what to say.

That's never stopped you from running your mouth before.

What about her mom?

Just stick with the daughter for now.

No, I mean...

I know what you mean.

Tell you what, I'll be your wingman.

I'll go over and engage the mom in conversation.

Then after I've greased the wheels,

I'll give you a signal,

you saunter over and work your magic.

Saunter?

Walk.

Then just say walk.

You don't have to make up words.

Wait. What signal?

I don't know, I'll give you a thumbs up.

That's not much of a signal.

How about I just wave my arms and say, "Yo, dumb ass"?

Let's go with the thumb.

Excuse me. Yes?

I'm, I'm, I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner,

but I'm sitting over there with my nephew... Now?!

No, not now.

Dumb ass.

Now?!

No!

Anyway, he's taken a little bit of a shine to your daughter,

and it would mean the world to him

if he could come over and meet her. Oh.

That's very sweet, and I don't want to seem impolite,

but this is our one-on-one time.

I understand, and you should have that,

but we're only talking a couple of minutes here.

Just enough time to put a smile on

a young boy's face. Now?!

No!

Look, I appreciate you

coming over, but I think we'll pass.

Fine. Sorry to bother you.

Real smooth.

Okay, you really gotta help me out here.

Sir, I am having dinner with my daughter.

And I am here with my nephew. Let's face it.

they'd rather be sitting and talking to each other

than hanging out with a couple of old farts like us.

What did you call me?

No, no, no, not-not you, us.

I was being funny.

I don't think you're funny at all.

Well, clearly, you don't know me.

I'm Charlie.

Yes, well, Charlie, I've asked you to leave us alone.

I understand and I will, but...

Honey, get me a refill.

Yo, dumb ass, go get a refill!

Now?! Yes, now!

My brother's kid, not my own.

(yelling in pain)

I warned you.

It's worse than the potpourri.

I see you like the diet cola.

If I may say so, you don't need to watch your weight.

* Men...

Here you go.

Clean and dry.

Thank you. Thank you.

Are you all right?

Oh, yeah. Little Alan's fine.

The twins got the worst of it.

Good, good.

Listen, Donna, you were right.

This relationship is over. Over?

Well, what else is there to do besides call it quits?

Well, I-I thought maybe we could take it to the next level.

Next level?

What's beyond mind-numbing, tedious and boring?

I'll tell you what's beyond it. Death.

No, thank you, I've already been married.

But, Alan... I'm sorry, but it's just, it's time we faced the truth.

I have no romantic feelings for you anymore.

None?

None at all.

Oh, oh...

Come on, Donna, crying doesn't solve anything.

But believe me, it's better to end this now

while we're still friends.

(crying)

Good-bye, my friend.

Oh, just get out.

(clicking)

What are you doing?

Nothing.

Hi. You must be Alan. Yes.

Forget it, Georgia, it's not gonna happen.

What's not gonna happen?

I thought I could spice up our relationship with a three-way.

A... a three-way?

But I didn't realize you had no romantic feelings for me at all.

(high-pitched sob)

Now hang on.

Um, I-I-I think you may have misinterpreted my remarks.

Oh, honey, I'm here for you. (crying)

Now, see, you really need to be more clear about what you meant

by taking it to the next level.

See, I-I-I'm fine with this.

This could help.

Oh, go to hell.

(door slamming)

(sobbing)

* Men...

So was the friend good-looking?

Spectacular.

Wow.

Sounds like you blew

what could've been the best night of your life.

The best night?

No, no, that... that was the night Jake was born.

You have a three-way the night Jake was born?

Okay, I blew the best night of my life.

Now, don't worry, you'll get another opportunity someday.

How do you figure?

Well, you may have to wait a few decades,

but I hear the ratio of gals to geezers

in those senior living facilities is two to one.

And imagine the progress they'll have made

in boner pills by that time.

Are you staring at me?

'Cause it feels like you're staring at me.