Original subtitles

ANNOUNCER: Previously on Rescue Me.

I want you to be the godfather to my new kid.

I don't know what to say.

Just say you'll go on a diet.

It's the celery bible.

Yogurt and appreciation.

I am trying to uphold

my half of the godfather bargain.

EMILY: It's just this thing that happens to me

when I have sex.

The penetration hits a muscle back there

and, afterwards, it gives me gas.

Yeah, it's gross, I know. Hey, hey, don't say that.

You guys wanna hit your careers and your reputations

for Tommy's rebel asshole parade,

by all means, be my guest.

And I'll tell you what, Lou,

I had a white or blue shirt on with stripes,

I bet you I can do a better job

keeping this under the carpet.

The new place

Shawn and Colleen looked at

for their wedding,

they saw the last name was Gavin,

you were the firefighter

who's been in all the papers...

And they told them both to take a hike.

SHEILA: There's a place in Jersey

near where I take Damian for his German aqua therapy.

And there's a place in Connecticut

near where I take him for his movement therapy.

And they're both expensive.

I want to pay.

I wanna pay for the whole thing, okay?

Nobody's had the balls to say this to you,

but I got my balls back, so I'm gonna say it:

He ain't ever getting out of the wheelchair again.

I got some news for you too.

Sheila is paying for that wedding.

NEEDLES: Thank you.

There you go.

LOU: You know, I find it amazing...

ten years after the worst attack

ever perpetrated on American soil,

a decade later, there's still not a standing monument

to everyone that died that day.

Yeah. Do you wanna know

what the only memorial down here is?

On the side of Ladder 10, all right?

Which was paid for privately and it only mentions our guys.

It's a travesty. It's politicians.

Bullshit.

NEEDLES: It's typical.

I went down to that Vietham wall once.

You know, the one in Washington.

Hmm.

It took me a long time to go there.

Years and years after it was erected.

I was afraid of it.

I served with ten guys who came home in body bags,

three guys who served under me,

who I was responsible for

and their names are up on that wall.

So I didn't know how I was gonna react.

People were crying

and they had their hands up on the wall, sobbing.

Kids, parents, people of my own age collapsing.

Phew.

And me?

Pfft.

Nothing.

Stood there for a long time.

It was nice. It was a nice big, impressive wall.

Walls, buildings, bridges, they don't mean shit.

Marty Sheehan, tough kid from Boston.

Loved hockey.

Bobby, uh, Bobby Orr, was God in his book. Heh!

Joey Gianfredo.

Heh.

Nice simple kid from upstate New York.

Kid cried himself to sleep sometimes,

but, boy, he was one crack shot. Heh!

This... Thank you.

This is a letter from Buck Chifford.

He sent it to his wife and told her to give it to me

in case he didn't come home alive,

which he didn't.

And in this letter,

he tells how proud he was that I was his leader

and that I shouldn't blame myself

for what happened to him.

That he probably would have come home dead a lot earlier

if it hadn't been for me, heh.

So the point is, walls are only shit.

You wanna memorialize somebody?

You do it here and here.

You talk about them.

You tell all the young firefighters

what brave guys these guys were.

Guys like my dad. Guys like your dad.

They were part of the great generation

because they saved this country and the world.

You can't memorialize somebody by plastering their name up

on a wall of concrete and steel.

You do it by talking about their deeds.

You have to remember their faces, their spirit.

You have to remember the firefighters

on the morning of 9/11

and what they did before they went downtown.

They memorialized themselves

by writing notes to their loved ones

and leaving it in their lockers,

so that their wives and kids could read one last time

what these guys thought about them

and cared about them.

A lot of them didn't think

they were gonna be coming back.

It takes a lot of balls to do something like that.

And this letter from Buck?

I'll tell you, there's not a day goes--

Not a single day goes by

when I don't think about this guy

and what a brave, brave man he was.

He was a real American hero.

Hey, would you order me a tuna melt with extra fries?

[THE VON BONDIES' "C'MON, C'MON" PLAYING]

♪ On another day C'mon, cmon ♪

♪ With these ropes tied tight Can we do no wrong? ♪

♪ Now we grieve 'Cause now it's gone ♪

♪ Things were good When we were young ♪

♪ When my teeth bite down I can see the blood ♪

♪ Of a thousand men Who have come and gone ♪

♪ Now we grieve 'Cause now it's gone ♪

♪ Things were good When we were young ♪

♪ Is it safe to stay? ♪ ♪ C'mon, cmon ♪

♪ Was it right to leave? ♪ C'mon, c'mon ♪

♪ Will I ever learn? ♪ ♪ C'mon, cmon ♪

♪ C'mon, ¢'/mon C'mon, cmon ♪

[SIGHS]

Damian?

Damian.

Damian?

[DISTANT THUD]

Damian?

[METAL CLANGS]

Hello!

DAMIAN: This is what you're looking for.

Look at it.

Here.

It's a letter my Dad wrote to my Mom.

He stuck it in a book in our old house.

On a shelf in the living room.

Figured one day she'd come across it.

In case he died.

And she did.

Two months after, uh,

Well, you know, after they found his finger.

JIMMY'S VOICE: My love

if you should find this after I've passed away,

let it find you knowing

how truly, madly and deeply I love you.

How each one of my days

began with me looking at you and dreaming of more.

And if I were not by your side upon waking,

I pictured your face.

Your eyes. Your sweet--

SHEILA: What the hell are you doing?

That's mine!

I was... That's private!

What is wrong with you?

[WHIMPERS]

Oh, my God.

Get out! Get out of my bedroom!

Okay. Okay, relax.

What are you doing here?

Get out! Okay.

[GRUNTS]

What the hell is going on around here?

What?

Tell me you haven't been drinking.

What is this? While you were watching my kid?

I don't know, that's not mine.

I don't know what that is.

Ugh.

I swear to God.

[, uh, I haven't been drinking.

Okay, okay.

It's okay, it's okay. l...

No, no-- I know. No, we're gonna figure this out.

It's okay, we're gonna figure this out together, okay?

Ow, ow.

[SNIFFS]

[GRUNTS]

I don't smell anything. So what?

You were just gonna start now?

No, I don't...

I-- That's my personal-- What were you thinking?

I don't know.

Here, here you go.

Go on, take it. Take it with you.

Okay, wait. Go on. Take it with you.

I do not trust you to watch him anymore.

Just wait. Get out!

Listen to me.

I don't-- I-- I went down to Ground Zero.

I didn't think it was gonna trigger anything.

Maybe it did. Maybe it triggered something.

I'm sorry.

Oh, my God. Please go be sorry somewhere else, huh?

[GROANS]

Oh, God.

Honey, it's okay.

It's okay, Damian.

[SIGHS]

I don't-- I--

Maybe this is one of those, like those dry drunk things

or something. I don't know.

I mean, did you ever even mention that letter to me

or where you hid it or anything?

Yes, I--

Yes, I mentioned the letter to you.

When? Like five years ago

when you had seven whiskies in you

and we had that insane night of sex on the beach.

Remember? I had the lavender miniskirt

and the almost see-through top on?

Anything? Hello?

[CHUCKLES]

Of course not, heh.

The sex you don't remember,

the see-through shirt and the moonlight,

but somewhere in that dark, dense,

tangled mangle of a shit storm you dare to call a brain,

you remember the letter. Right?

Because it pertains to you and what you need right now.

I never let you read that letter

because it is the truly only secret thing

that Jimmy and I will ever have ever again after he died.

It's the only piece of him that I get to keep

[WHIMPERS] for myself.

It doesn't matter that maybe he cheated.

Doesn't matter how deep things

got between you and me.

That letter is evidence of the deepest connection

that I will ever have with another human being, ever.

And you have crossed a very dangerous line.

Get out.

[SNIFFLES, SIGHS]

Sheila...

Got it.

[WHISPERS] It's okay.

[DOOR CLOSES]

So your girlfriend is a farter?

No. She's not a-- What you said.

A farter.

Could we not use that term?

Oh, you mean the term farter? Yes.

How about the term farte? No.

Farte, that's not bad.

I mean, it has a nice little French ring happening.

Yeah, it kind of classes it up a little.

No. Nothing with the F word in it, please.

Ahem. SEAN: Jesus.

What's going on? Garrity's girl is a farter.

Stop saying that.

SIDNEY: What do you expect, kiddo?

You are to keep this to yourself,

not blab it to all your friends.

Where is your sense of shame?

Here's the thing. I wanna keep seeing this chick.

She's really cool and funny

and she's like the most beautiful woman I've seen.

She better be on par with Gisele

if you're gonna suffer through that funky ass.

Mike? MIKE: What?

Will you please tell these assholes how hot she is?

Yeah, guys, I mean, she's pretty smoking.

Thank you.

Yeah, and apparently she's also a, uh, fartress.

[ALL LAUGH]

Hey, fartress. I saw that movie.

Christopher Lambert was in it.

So let me get this straight, if you guys break up,

she would be the fartress of solitude.

SHAWN: Nice.

Would you knock it off, please?

I'm being serious here.

What do you want, advice from us?

Yes. I don't know why I talk you guys.

LOU: Mikey!

SEAN: This is a serious problem.

I come to my friends and--

ALL: Yay!

SEAN: That's great.

MAN: Whoo! MAN1: Ha, ha.

SEAN: That's amazing. All right.

[SIREN BLARING]

FEMALE VOICE: Engine.

[SIREN WAILING]

SHAWN: Yo, Lou, what's the good word?

Someone reported a gas leak.

Oh, shit, we going over to Garrity's girlfriend's place?

Very funny, Black Shawn.

We're only blocks away,

you picking up her scent yet?

Okay, hilarious, dick bags.

You know what, odds are

it's probably paranoid yuppie assholes

smelling the gas from their pilot light.

Yep, goddamn yuppies. You gotta love them.

Hey, we should bring Garrity's girlfriend by,

let them know what a real gas leak smells like.

I don't know why I tell you guys anything.

[LAUGHS]

Hello?

It doesn't smell much like gas in here.

And he's the authority.

Okay.

TOMMY: Hello? F.D.N.Y.

MIKE: Yo. Anybody home?

Hey, hey, buddy, didn't you hear us knock?

SEAN: Hey.

Hello? Hel...

Oh, shit.

MIKE: How long do you think they've been here?

Long enough.

Check their pulses, will you, Mike?

They're dead, Lou. I got it.

Go down and check the boiler then, will you?

Guys, let's open some windows in here.

Nothing.

[ALL GASP]

What are you doing?

Oh, God. What time is it?

Shh, shh, shh. Shh, shh, shh.

Get out of my room.

Okay, jeez.

[BOTH MOANING]

Oh, God.

Oh, Jesus.

I didn't think it could get better.

Heh, and yet it did.

[BOTH CHUCKLE]

[GROANS]

You want a hit?

No, thanks, I'm good.

[GRUNTS]

You see all that grass out front?

Just like Central Park without the taxis, horse shit,

and homeless people.

Wow.

[WHISTLES]

Look at this view. Holy shit stink.

[ALL CHUCKLE]

Sheila.

So I-I was thinking maybe like the altar over here.

Right, right, right.

Col?

Honey, what's the matter?

[CHUCKLES]

Um, it's just

this is so beautiful and so expensive.

Okay, I can't have you pay for this.

Oh, honey, money is not a problem.

How can you say that?

I mean, with all you have on your plate with Damian.

Listen, I may not be a financial...

Pfft-pfft!

Oh.

I may not be a financial wizard,

but my business manager is.

[CHUCKLES]

And I'm not going to be throwing away any more cabbage

on miracle cures for Damian.

I've had to accept that and him as he is.

And, you know, it breaks my heart

that I'm never going to be able to give him a wedding.

But that is why you have got to accept this gift on his behalf.

But I mean, it's just so hard, Aunt Sheila,

because it just-- I mean, this does not feel like us.

It's so-- So peaceful, so-- So polished, so classy.

So, un-Gavin, heh.

Hmm.

Put an open bar and a dance floor over there,

it's going to get plenty Gavin, plenty quick.

Now, sit down with me for a sec.

[GROANS] Oh, yeah.

Give me your hand.

I want this for you.

And your Uncle Jimmy would want this for you.

You want to know why?

Because marriage is really hard.

And you are going to want this one day

to look back on and remember how happy you were

and hoped you always would be.

And then you try to be that happy all over again.

And that works?

What the hell do I know? I had my reception at the VFW,

but it sounds like it works.

[LAUGHS]

You're the best, Aunt Sheila.

I know I am.

We cool?

Oh, we cool.

[LAUGHS]

[GRUNTING]

Hey. Hey.

Do me a favor, would you?

I got this thing in the middle of my back.

I'm not sure if it's a boil

or one of those really huge like volcano-sized zits.

I mean, I think this thing should be listed

on some kind of geological survey somewhere,

but I can't quite see it.

Do me a favor, just look and tell me what it is.

No.

Come on, you're my best friend.

All right, lift your shirt up quick.

ow!

Oh, holy shit.

What? Boil?

Tumor. Serious?

Its gonna involve pus at some point.

And probably some lancing.

Oh, thank you.

Phew.

Hey, uh, listen, on the best friend front?

Yeah, I'm not blowing you.

Okay. That's why we're never going to get

our own reality show. Hm.

[, uh, I wrote some letters.

Uh-oh.

Uh-oh? Yeah.

Did you, um, write them in crayon?

No, I carved them in stone.

Ha, that's really funny,

but the last time you wrote letters,

they were to the mayor's office

when they shut down the firehouses.

And because of your drunken pigeon scrawl,

you caused a lot of confusion

because every time you wrote the word truck,

they thought it was...

I know what they thought it was.

This is different.

I took my time, make sure they were legible.

Uh-huh.

Listen, I kind of took

what Feinberg was saying the other day to heart about,

you know, what some of the guys did on 9/11,

writing notes to their families

before they jumped in their rigs to go down-- Go down there.

So I just thought maybe I'd, you know,

let Janet and the kids know, you know,

my...

How I felt about them, you know,

so that if I don't come home from work one night,

they have something that tells them forever how I, you know...

And who better than my best friend,

you know, somebody I-- The only person on this planet

I trust implicitly,

I want you to be in charge of those.

And there's also one in there for the new kid

in case I, uh, get killed in the line of duty

before he or she arrives.

Did you, uh, type them?

Heh, yeah, I typed them.

Who do you know that has a typewriter?

A computer is a typewriter, Tom.

I know, I know, you're still trying to deal with the concept

of a disposable lighter.

Um, let me ask you a question.

You want me to give these a proofread

so that, you know, Katy doesn't spend two days

trying to figure out why her dad told her to go truck herself?

No, okay?

I just said they're private.

They're, you know... Do not read them.

I won't. I will not read them.

Or these.

Jesus Christ, how many are there?

I wrote one to Sheila

'cause she's pissed at me right now.

Okay. And Damian.

Okay.

And Mickey and Teddy.

Okay.

And Maggie and my cousin Eddie

and my brother Timo and my sister Rosemary

and Needles and, uh, you know, each one of the guys.

But nobody reads anything.

How am I going to read them?

What do I have a week at the beach free?

Jesus.

All right, well, just nobody reads these.

Nobody reads them. You got it.

Okay.

All right, so we're clear.

Yes.

Safe and sound.

Appreciate it.

No problem.

TOMMY: Dear Lou,

I'm not around anymore,

so knowing that might be the case,

I wanted to take the time to tell you

how I really feel about you,

not only as a lifelong friend,

but as the guardian of my beloved children.

You fat, undisciplined piece of shit.

Couldn't wait to get your hands on this, could you?

I'm still alive and kicking

and you're already reading this?

I wouldn't trust you to pick up my dry cleaning,

never mind watch my kids.

Do not even try to act like you never read this.

And stay away from the stash of red velvet cupcakes

I have hidden under my bed in the bunk room.

I got them for Janet.

She's been talking about them for days.

Can't keep them in the house

because the kids will-- What am I talking about?

You're not even reading this anymore, are you?

[DOOR SHUTS] Ugh, asshole.

[GRUNTS]

Hi. I didn't eat any.

No, you didn't have time to eat any, did you?

Unbelievable. You were parked under my bunk

like a motor head stuck under a '67 Ford Mustang.

I-- You know what? You can't be trusted.

I knew you wouldn't keep a promise.

You're not on any goddamn diet.

Bullshit, Tom.

Let me show you something.

Know those cooking classes

I'm taking up at school,

which is actually a culinary institute?

Oh, really? It's an institute?

They happen to give out report cards.

And you know what? Look at that, straight goddamn A's.

And, meanwhile, you run to my bed digging out cupcakes?

I should have known this whole thing was a trap.

A creepy ass Tommy Gavin,

Stephen King, 9/11 nightmare.

Yeah. Why don't you just shut up, Tom?

For the love of God, will you just shut your goddamn mouth?

I am so sick and tired of you and this 9/11 bullshit.

We lost 343 guys that day, Tom, officially.

Officially.

But let's be honest.

Look at the two of us.

I got a hole inside of me the size of that crater downtown

I've been filling up with food.

You got a hole inside of you too,

you've been filling with booze. I haven't had a drink--

Shh, shh.

I have not had a drink-- Shh.

What are you gonna tell me, Tom?

That that bottle of vodka

I saw in your truck

coming in here today is cologne?

You've been walking around like a dry drunk for days

on end around the joint.

Writing letters and preparing yourself to die.

I got news for you, pal, you're already dead.

And I am too.

We're both walking dead men.

We're zombies, Tom.

Forget about 343.

You add in all the other guys in all the other houses

and all of the brain cells that we've killed

and all the marriages that we've destroyed.

All the kids whose dads have that blank stare on their face

for the past decade.

And all those zombies still riding around on their rigs

for ten years, Tom, ten years,

trying to fill in the holes inside of them.

Three hundred and forty three.

That number ain't even close.

So do what you got to do, Tom.

Go downtown.

Bury yourself in that hole and make it official.

Make it 344.

Just for God sakes, just get it over with, Tom,

so the rest of us can go back

to leading our quiet little zombie lives.

Tom?

[SIGHS]

Tom.

Tommy!

Oh, no.

No, you don't.

[THUDDING]

What the hell are you doing?

We're just stretching.

MIKE: Nothing.

Hey, Frankie?

What's his problem?

Beats me.

What? What?

Hey, you forgot your cupcakes, asshole.

Something to wash down your vodka with.

Scumbag.

Lou?

Are you standing here in broad daylight

with cupcakes after all the arguments we've had?

What's all the racket about?

Well, uh, apparently, Tommy's fallen off the wagon

and Lou is back on the chuck wagon.

That's what it's about.

What?

These are Tommy's.

Well, hello, Tommy's fix is booze, not donuts.

Lou?

Yeah?

Did my vacation time clear yet?

What are you talking about?

My honeymoon.

Remember? I gave you the papers over two weeks ago?

Come on, man, please, do not tell me you didn't...

Classic. It's classic.

Hey, shut up, you.

All right? I remember.

What the hell do you want to go to Mexico for anyway?

So he can be the tallest guy in the room for a change.

Listen, Lou, all right, flights are booked.

We leave in one week,

one week after the wedding. Really simple, man.

I don't know what to tell you.

Tell me you're gonna put down the cupcakes--

I'll put down the goddamn cupcakes, all right?

You guys have been riding me about that shit for so long

and I went and I took some classes, okay?

Learn how to eat healthier, cook healthier.

You want to know something?

I got my report card today

and got straight A's, all right?

Magna Cum Laude. So suck it.

Okay, Skinny Minnie.

How much weight have you lost so far?

It's a process.

It's a process.

All right, all right, come on.

SHAWN: Holy shit!

Wait.

Advanced cupcake, Aplus.

Donuts of the world, Aplus.

Holy Cannoli, A plus.

Cookies unlimited, Aplus.

Mastering mousse, B minus.

I ate my final project.

You know what? We're over you.

We're over you, all right, Lou, enough.

I know you're upset. He forgot to file some papers, all right.

This is not the end of the world.

Yeah, chief, but come on,

pile this on top of other crap,

it's like looking at a mountain of bullshit.

Let's be honest.

This is definitely the straw

that broke the Puerto Rican's back.

You think you can do better? Huh, hotshot?

You can do better running this place than 1?

Wading through all the bureaucratic bullshit

that I have to do all the paperwork,

all the legal wrangling?

You think you can do better than me?

If I don't have to bake cupcakes at the same time,

yeah, it should be good.

[BOTH SCOFFING]

Oh, I would love to give you the keys

to the kingdom for a few days.

Chief, is that all right with you?

[SIGHS]

Five days. Oh, chief!

Quiet. You're acting lieutenant for five days.

However, all decisions must run through me, understand?

Cool. This will be good for you.

You gonna see what it's like. I agree.

Twenty, 40, 60. I got 60 bucks on my man Franco.

[ALL SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

I got 20 on Franc. Sorry, man.

I hate to take money from children,

I have a C note on Lou.

Keys to the kingdom.

May the best man win.

Thank you, firefighter chef.

Yeah, firefighter chef.

I got twenty on Franco.

No, no, no, no. No, you don't.

NEEDLES: Oh, you gotta be kidding me.

What?

You got a little something on your...

You got it.

[LAUGHS]

[SIGHS]

Yeah.

Shit.

[CAR ENGINE REVVING]

[TURNS CAR OFF]

[PEOPLE SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY]

[DISTANT RUMBLING]

[PEOPLE SCREAMING]

[COUGHING] [SIRENS WALING]

[PANTING]

[EXPLOSIONS]

[GASPS]

Hey, you got a dollar?

Uh...

Hey, man, you all right?

Yeah.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Yeah.

There you go.

This shit real?

Oh, yeah.

It's real.

[♪♪]