Original subtitles

You miserable, girl-bladdered, insomniac, roach of a dog.

Buck could hold it for days. Why can't you?

I am Buck, you shoe-peddling moron.

Dad.

I thought I heard something. Was there an intruder?

No, Hef.

It was probably Lucky, scratching on the door to get out.

No, I heard that.

This sounded more like breaking glass.

Oh. no, those were my tears...

...freezing in midair, then shattering on the sidewalk.

-Is it really that cold out there? -Let me show you.

Pervert.

You know, a girl can't even come home from her prayer meeting...

...without someone trying to stick their tongue down her throat.

Kids, this is the perfect time for a family meeting.

-Oh, my-- -And the topic of our family meeting...

...is the little member of this family...

...who can't make it through the night without wetting himself.

Dad, right in front of him?

I think he meant the dog, Kel.

Didn't you, Dad?

Don't you understand that, since your mother left...

...I've been handling all the maternal responsibilities.

Do you think it's easy lounging on this couch...

...growing out of my clothes and begging myself for sex?

I simply don't have time to walk the damn dog.

All right, Dad, I'm sorry.

We promise, starting tomorrow, we will take care of Lucky.

Bud?

Miserable, flee-infested geyser of a dog.

I didn't see you lift your leg into a minus 20 wind chill.

Bud!

Or should I say Boy Wonder?

Dad, what are you doing up?

I was awakened by a nightmare that your mother was kissing me all over.

Then I realized it was Lucky because his breath was sweet...

...his feet were warm, and just a little bit more furry.

Then I thought, "It's 3:15 in the morning, with hail the size of softballs.

Let's take Lucky out for a little dump."

God, do I have to spell it out for you?

G-N-O spells "no."

I gave the two of you one more chance. You failed miserably.

Tomorrow night, Lucky spends his evening in the yard.

Dad, you can't put a dog outside in the middle of winter.

-It's inhumane. -No, Bud.

Inhumane would be to force him to work at a shoe store for minimum wage...

...and then have him come home to a redheaded Shih Tzu.

Hey, Daddy...

...if you're gonna put Lucky outside, you're gonna have to build a doghouse.

We can even build it together, as a family project.

You mean like that perfect family on Party of Five?

Dad, their parents were killed in a fiery car crash.

Exactly.

Bud, do you wanna hand me that hammer, son?

Thank you.

Oh, no, pumpkin, that's all right.

Daddy already drank too many ice-cold beers.

Hey, buddy.

What you--? What you doing?

I'm building a doghouse with my loving family.

You know, they come ready-made.

You mean, I didn't have to have sex with the wife?

The doghouses, Al.

But why spend the money and miss the satisfaction...

...of creating a house for your beloved pooch...

...working with your bare hands?

Right, kids?

Al, I don't see Bud and Kelly.

Do you?

Who needs them?

Everybody should work every day outside, with their hands.

Whether you're sticking nails under your neighbor's tires...

...or digging that grave you can't wait to jump into...

...I'm just glad I have a friend like you, who's willing to help out.

And that's important, Jefferson, because we have to stick together.

I mean, we're a vanishing breed.

You wanna hand me--?

Kelly, what is Dad hammering out there?

Apparently, himself.

Damn nail. Damn thumb. Damn dog!

Bud, after months of trying...

...I think I finally found a way to show Carlos how much I care about him.

A piñata full of condoms?

No, Little Engine That Couldn't.

I needed to know what kind of women he liked.

So I wrote to his brother back in the old country of San Di-- San--

What does this say?

-Diego. -Yeah, where they speak spinach.

So he sent me these pictures of his old girlfriends and they're all plain-looking.

I mean, they have no makeup, no jewelry, no bras.

Let me see that.

So you know what I'm gonna do?

I am gonna go to Pierre's Salon Au Natural, where, for only $500...

...I can look like I haven't spent any money on myself at all.

You are your mother's daughter.

Well, duh.

Listen, Carlos is coming over in a little bit.

If he gets here before I get back, keep him away from Dad.

Don't let him talk to him. Don't even let him look at him, okay?

All right. But why?

Make way!

Howdy, neighbor. What you doing?

Well, let's see. I got a saw, I got me some wood...

...I got me a How to Build a Doghouse manual.

I'm Jet-Skiing.

Well, I am trying to go over some records for bank deposits...

...though I suppose that concept is lost on you.

Much as a strapless bra would be on you.

Do you suppose that you could keep the noise down just a hair?

Okay.

Thanks, Al. Just two hours of quiet, that's all I need.

She didn't say what two hours.

And now we return to Red Shoe Diaries.

Hi, you don't know me...

...but would you wine me, dine me and have your way with me?

Well, I'd love to.

Yeah, right.

I can't count how many times that's happened to me.

Hi.

You don't know me...

...but would you wine me, dine me and have your way with me?

I'm dreaming. Better pinch myself.

What am I, an idiot?

-Let's go, baby. -Hello, Bud. Is Kelly here?

No. I'm supposed to tell you something.

Hi, you don't know me, but would you wine me--?

Never mind. Never mind.

Just go ask my dad.

You must be Kelly's father.

You must be here to take advantage of my daughter...

...live off me, like my worthless wife and family.

Mr. Bundy, money is of no concern to me.

I come from a very wealthy family.

Son.

-Please, please, call me Carlos. -No, no, I prefer son.

Do you know anything about building houses?

My family built our entire village.

We even built a tunnel from my country to yours.

Then you should know how to work one of these.

-Of course. -Do you know how to make it go louder?

You mean like this?

Hey, Marcie, how's that bank report coming along?

What's that? I'm sorry. I can't hear you.

What did I ever do to you?

You were born.

And you live here and I don't know what you did to my birdbath...

...but the little birdies won't go there anymore.

You started this. You came over here and you told me to be quiet.

What did you expect?

Don't complain to me. Do what I did and complain to him.

This is Inspector Fitzpatrick of the Department of Housing and Zoning.

How do you do, Mr. Bundy?

-Nice doghouse you've got there. -Why, thank you.

Tear it down.

What do you mean, this doghouse has to come down?

Me and my son Carlos just put it up.

You have no permit.

-It's a doghouse. -You say it's a doghouse.

What's to stop you from renting it out to a family?

The fact that it's 2 feet by 2 feet.

Sorry, Bundy. No permit, no doghouse.

No doghouse, no brain.

Perhaps-- Perhaps this can be resolved without a bludgeoning.

Well, you could always try going down to the Building Department...

...standing in line all day long with people from Eighth World countries...

...carrying sausage in their clothing, pay your 30 bucks.

Or you could pay me 50, I could give you the permit right now.

-Carlos, I'm a little short. -How much do you need, Mr. Bundy?

Seventy.

What are you doing now?

I'm a building inspector. I'm inspecting your building.

What?

This house is too close to the main dwelling.

You're going to have to tear it down.

What do you mean, tear it down? Why can't we just pick it and move it?

It's illegal to move an unsafe dwelling.

But it might be a little safer with a 50 in your pocket, huh?

-Carlos? -Seventy?

Better make it 80.

Ordinarily, I'd take your money...

...but Mrs. D'Arcy's already paid me much more...

...and, well, call me old-fashioned, but I'm a one-bribe kind of guy.

Besides, it will be fun watching you build the doghouse all over again.

It sure will.

Oh, yeah? Well, don't hold your breath.

No, do it until you're blue, because we're not rebuilding this doghouse.

Carlos, we're going bowling.

I don't know how to bowl.

Well, you got money, don't you? Well, that's half the game, right there.

But, Mr. Bundy, doesn't your dog need someplace to go?

I don't care where he--

Damn dog. Damn neighbor. Damn day I was born.

Here. Easy.

Yeah, I'd like to throw this--

Carlos, what are you doing out here with the yard man?

No, Kelly. This man is your father.

That hasn't been proven.

Come on, let's go inside.

But why? I'm having a wonderful time here with your father.

Carlos? Don't you notice anything different about me?

Oh, no. You're the same lovely Kelly I worship as a chaste goddess.

Damn. I knew I should have gotten the complete make-under.

I'm going back to the salon. I need a couple hundred dollars.

Carlos?

Thank you, Daddy.

All right. That ought to do it, inspector.

Well, let's see.

Looks to be the proper distance from the house.

-But... -But what?

...no foundation.

All right, come on back. Come on back.

All right, boys, pour me a foundation.

That's it?

My future son-in-law spent $700 for one stinking blob of concrete?

I'm sorry, but we've got a one-truckload minimum.

Do you have someplace to pour the rest?

How about the dog?

Very funny. Check your sock drawer.

Well, it's your cement.

When you figure where you want the rest of it, just give me a call.

Now, listen. Before we rebuild this doghouse yet another time...

...any more surprises in that magic little codebook of yours?

No, not a thing.

What? What's wrong now?

No plumbing.

Excuse me.

Now, why would a dog need plumbing?

He doesn't wash himself after he marks a tree.

If he's dirty, he just drags himself along the ground...

...like I'm going to do to you, if you don't approve this doghouse.

Page 49, Mr. Bundy. No plumbing, no doghouse.

Well, the pipes are up and running. I even filled his waterbed.

Let me see this.

All right. Plumbing passes.

But where's your handicap access?

Okay, bring on the three-legged dogs.

Okay, Bud. After six hours at the salon...

...I think my natural look is finally complete.

What do you think?

Well, you no longer look like a North American slut.

Now you look like a South American slut.

That's exactly the look I was going for.

Excuse me, old homely, housekeeper woman.

Have you seen the beautiful, sweet and excitingly-trashy Kelly?

Carlos, you see, this is Kelly.

You just don't recognize her with her clothes right-side out.

So, Carlos, what do you think of my new look?

I spent $700 to achieve the look of the women of your village.

I spent $7000 to come to America to get away from the women of my village.

Kelly, I have decided you are not the Angora sweater-wearing...

...pointy-breasted woman who'll frost my Duncan Hines cakes...

...while bearing my 2.6 children as I watch wrestling on TV.

Carlos, you never wanted those things before.

Oh, yes, but I never spent the day with your father before.

He is a very wise man. He reeks of wisdom...

...and something else I cannot identify.

Heed his words, Kelly.

Now I must take my leave.

Wait, wait, Carlos, I am a slut. I can be a big slut. Huge slut.

Hello, pumpkin.

-Daddy, you have ruined my life. -Well, that makes us even.

Oh, come on, pumpkin, cheer up. So you lost Carlos.

Hey, at least, we're going to the basketball game together.

Me and you, Dad?

No, me and Carlos.

Gee, what a guy. You know, it's funny how things work out.

I spent $12,000 of Carlos' money on a doghouse...

...that Lucky refuses to set foot into.

Then why are you so happy?

Because 6000 bucks of it's in my pocket.

Hey, I also figured out where to pour that leftover truckload of wet cement.

-We're getting a swimming pool? -Better.

Jefferson, have you seen my car keys?

Hey, you in the truck, get that spout away from my Mercedes.

-Okay, boys, let her rip. -No!