All language subtitles for Shameless.US.S11E01.720p.WEB.H264-GGWP

Well, well, well, look who's back.

Where the hell you been?

At home, sitting on your asses,

practicing social distancing?

Washing your hands 20 times a day

while us essential
workers risked our lives

making sure you have enough toilet paper

and wheat flour for your sourdough?

What a bunch of pussies.

And now y-you can't
remember what happened

last season on Shameless?

Get out of here.

Go on, get.

Get! I will piss on your leg.

I'll piss on your leg.

What do you got, Gallagher?

Sanitation Department is in bed
with the real estate developers.

It's all overseen by
this cat named Otis.

Otis wants you to bust into that house

and take a shit in the living room.

Okay, took a shit in
somebody's living room.

You're gonna make one hell
of a cop someday, Gallagher.

Thank you, sir.

- Who the fuck is this?
- Julia.

They said she was young, but...

- Who are you?
- I'm Sandy...

her girlfriend.

We have an arrest warrant
for Deborah Gallagher.

Statutory rape of a minor, Julia Nicolo.

- Fuck.
- We got a runner!

Stop! Police!

So this Keg Zone
stuff is actually working?

I got 20 fully paid Keggers already.

I'm not moving to
Milwaukee. I told you that.

Come look inside the house with me.

It's got two beds, big backyard.

I don't need to look inside.

Jesus.

- Needs some work.
- Two bedrooms?

Yeah.

I now pronounce you husband and husband.

- Now?
- Yes, now.

megasubtitles.com

_

Chicago, the
city of broad shoulders,

the Windy City,

a city with a multitude of voices,

languages, and a vibrant history.

From the four corners of the Earth,

people come to the city on the lake

to work and help create

a truly modern metropolis.

Yep, from all four corners

of the Earth, all right.

Polacks and krauts and dagos

and the lowest of the low, the Irish...

Starving spud famine refugees,

like us Gallaghers.

Every important moment
in Chicago history,

a Gallagher was there.

The Chicago Fire, Mrs. O'Leary's cow,

that was Great-Great-Grandma
Gallagher's Holstein.

The union stockyard workers,

the poor bastards butchering
6,000 steers a day,

covered in blood and shit,

all Gallaghers.

The Black Sox score-fixing scandal,

a Gallagher.

No, he wasn't a player.
He was a gambler.

Set the whole thing up. Made a bundle.

Prohibition, Capone, you
think it was all Italians?

Hell no.

It was Gallaghers that provided

the homicidal muscle.

The riots at the Democratic
Convention in '68,

yep, that was me.

Part of the Chicago Eight.

The Chicago Eight?

I thought it was the Chicago Seven.

It was eight.

I was at a White Castle getting burgers

for Abbie and the guys
when the pigs broke in.

So they only took seven
and put 'em on trial.

Where we're standing, right here,

on Ashland Avenue,

there were 20 bars on
this block 100 years ago,

each and every one of
'em owned by a Gallagher.

Now, we got three hipster coffee shops.

It was seven before the
COVID took down the weak.

Chinamen did us a favor with that virus.

Who the hell needs seven coffee shops?

Hey, do you know why they call

this part of the South
Side Back of the Yards?

Sure, it was right behind the... No, no,

not because it was
behind the stockyards,

because it was the back
of the Gallagher yards.

Every single house owned by a Gallagher.

Is any of this true?

Is any of this true?

The Gallaghers built
Chicago single-handedly.

Come on, I'll take
you to Leavitt Street.

I'll show you the tenement

where Paddy Gallagher wrote The Jungle.

Oh, no, no.

Let him cry.

He's teething.

The hell does he need teeth for anyway?

I don't know.

We could drug him.

Break up a downer or something.

Frank used to rub whiskey on our gums.

Then he'd dump us in the tub.

Without water, I hope.

Not always.

I think I'm gonna die.

Can you die from lack of sleep?

Oh, my God. Okay.

- I'll get him. You start coffee.
- Okay.

Hey, where's the Mr. Coffee?

Oh, I bought us a French press

at an eviction yard sale.

What?

It's by the stove. Just add hot water.

There's a new bag of
coffee in the fridge.

Huh.

Hey, um, maybe we need
to try something else,

you know, with Fred teething.

Yeah?

Like what?

I don't know, we could do, uh,

I don't know, one
night on, one night off.

You know, one of us
stays at my old house

or your dad's, gets a good night's sleep

while the other one stays here.

We could, uh, trade off, you know?

Okay.

Dibs first night.

Who got evicted?

Aniya, that girl who was working

at the beauty supply shop on Ashland.

Is that the one that, uh, bellied up?

Oh, my God.

Yeah, yeah. One of many.

Hey, I need you to run
some errands for me today...

Grocery, paint store.

Is that a problem?

No. Glad to.

Mm.

- I'm gonna go brush my teeth.
- That's a good idea.

Stop!

Got you, fucker.

Outstanding, Gallagher.

Thank you, sir.

Why didn't you shoot him?

I knew I could catch him, sir.

Uncuff him. Give me the gun.

That's how it's done, cadets.

Never shoot a suspect in the back.
You wait for 'em to turn around,

and then you shoot 'em in the face.

Good to know, sir.

Why are you shaving your head?

'Cause I'm goin' bald.

But you're bald now, Kev.

Exactly. Now no one will
know I was going bald.

Science.

Should I just pour the weed right in?

Yeah, I think so.

Go see if those gummies
are setting up right.

They need a few more minutes.

Hey, no sampling the product.

Excellent, Gemma. Nice and tight.

Amy, good, but a little less product

in the next one, okay?

Kev, what are the girls doing?

Their tiny fingers are perfect.

Look, this is why they used little kids

to dig stuff out of machinery
back in the old days.

They outlawed that, Kev.
It's called child labor.

Well, we're a family business now.

We all need to pull our own weight.

No. Girls, go finish
getting ready for school,

and don't forget your masks.

I was gonna have 'em wash their hands

- when they were done.
- Girls, wash your hands.

Did you pick up the display case?

Yeah, it's in the truck.

Isn't this exciting?

Legal weed in Chicago?

Can you believe it?

Remember Diego, my roommate
from the group home,

the one with the glass eye?

He got 20 years.

Now we can just sell it
right out in the open.

Not out in the open.
We're not licensed yet.

And we're supposed to be closed anyway.

Amy?

Gemma.

Girl's got a gift.

Mm, morning Mr. Milkovich.

Morning, Mr. Gallagher.

Five times last night.
I'm feeling kinda raw.

How about you, stud?

I could go another five right now.

- Mm
- Mm-hmm.

Some big talk. You ready to back it up?

Gotta get to work.

Call in sick.

We need the paycheck.

All right. Your loss.

Hey, you making
breakfast for both of us?

No. Didn't know you were gonna get up.

You didn't get up yesterday.

Well, throw some more
bread in that bitch.

Sorry, I only make toast
for husbands who have jobs.

- Good thing I have a job.
- No, you have a laundromat owner

who's terrified you're
gonna smash his face

- into a dryer again.
- Exactly.

I'm sure he'd write you fake pay-stubs

to give to your parole
officer if I asked him.

That's not the point. We
need more money coming in.

All right.

Fine, I'll hit the Stop & Shop on Rush.

Hey, no. I don't wanna be
some sad-ass prison widow

catching a bus to
Stateville every weekend.

No? Want me to get some shitty-ass

minimum-wage job like you,

hauling boxes around a warehouse?

No.

There aren't many other
jobs left around here, Mick.

It's either Amazon or digging graves.

Until you decide to do one or the other,

my shitty minimum-wage
job is the only money

we got coming in.

- And the bills are piling up.
- Uh-huh.

Okay, fine.

I'll start digging into
the wedding present money

instead of saving it
to get our own place.

Do what you gotta do, lover.

Me, I'm gonna go take an ice bath.

My asshole's on fire.

Just not right.

I mean, Julia's only ten
months younger than me.

Why do I have to plead guilty

and wear this fuckin' ankle bracelet

and do all that community service

when Carl did the exact
same thing with Julia

but they didn't arrest him?

Well, not exactly the same thing.

He wasn't banging Julia and
her mom at the same time.

No, that judge just hates lesbians.

I mean, did you see the
way that he looked at me,

at Julia?

It was disgust.

Mm, I don't know.

He seemed pretty into it to me,

especially when, uh,
Julia was describing

how you used to go
down on her for hours.

It's looking good, sweetie.

Okay, it's time to get ready for school.

No more Zoom. Real school.
Let's put your shoes on.

How long do you think
it'll be before the school

shuts down again this time?

I bet a week.

UPS just dropped this off.

It came!

- What is it?
- Gotta put 'em on.

Put what on?

Let's go.

Hmm. What do you think?

Everything?

Welding, plumbing,
carpentry, household repairs.

I mean, it could
have multiple meanings.

What?

Liam, no.

Hello, Debbie Does Everything?

Um, I've got a rusty pipe.

You think you could shine it up for me?

Look at my truck.

That doesn't tell you
that I'm a handyman?

Debbie Does Everything?
My sewer line is clogged.

Can you please come over
and plunge it for me?

Huh.

You see that house with
the "For Sale" sign?

The Sons of Columbus
burned a cross in the yard

the first night the Jacksons moved in.

But the Jacksons were tough.

Used to be sharecroppers in Alabama.

A racist bonfire didn't scare them.

Mr. Jackson died of
the 'VID last spring.

He was a janitor over at Mercy.

Getting a little dry here, laddie.

My memory elixir!

Hey...

thanks for caring for what
I have to say, by the way.

Well, you're the only person
who responded to my flyer.

"Units start as low as $170,000."

Time was, you could've
bought a whole block down here

for that much money.

Everything's changing.

The Prius crowd is moving in,

taking advantage of the
folks who lost their jobs

in the Corona hoax.

- Oh, hey, girl!
- Hey!

Let's go over by the park.

I'll show you

where the best crack house
in Chicago used to be,

see if any of the old
gang's still around.

Okay, Franny.

Remember, no hugging anybody.

They say
anything about going back

to alternating days, yet?

Jesus, I hope not.

Boss won't let me bring
Tommy to work anymore.

- Who's the new guy?
- Uh, Barry.

What'd he do?

Rapist, I think.

Yeah, he just got out.

His son's kinda cute, though.

He's the spiky-haired one

right there in the
Slayer shirt, you see him?

Hey, Slash! Anyone gives you shit,

I just want you to
punch 'em in the throat

like I showed you.

Barry, you're over the line, man.

The fuck'd you say?

That line... It's exactly 500 feet

from the school's entrance.

If you cross it, the
cops could bust you.

Oh. Okay. Thanks.

- Appreciate it.
- Yeah.

Debbie, misdemeanor... Statutory rape.

But she was only ten
months younger than me.

Barry, statutory two, with felony.

But hey, she looked 20.

I love you, Franny.

Remember, no hugging the other kids.

IOUs?

What the fuck is this?

I go to get our money for the utilities

out of our wedding cash,
and all I find is IOUs.

You spent all our
money from the wedding?

Relax, you know I'm good for it.

That's not the point.
It's not your money.

It's our money.

Okay, so I spent some of our money.

On what?

I don't know. Stuff.

It's-it's not your money to spend.

We decided we were saving
it to get our own place.

No, no. You decided we were
saving it to get our own place.

I said we should use the wedding money

for us to have some fuckin' fun.

Yeah, one of us has certainly

been having some fuckin' fun.

Oh, quit being a
bitch. I'll pay it back.

Oh.

We're supposed to be making
these decisions together.

Okay, so can I use some
of our money to buy a beer?

- One beer.
- Sure. One beer.

- Yes.
- Great. So what about lube?

Can I use our money to buy lube?

You're the one who likes that
expensive strawberry shit.

I'm good with spit.

What about your meds? Ain't cheap.

That comin' out of
your money or our money

- or is that coming out of...
- There isn't any your money

or my money, there's only our money.

That's what happens
when you get married.

Sure.

I gotta get to work.

Okay, I'm off.

You have a good day
with Daddy, all right?

I thought you were gonna fix the
wheel on that jogger yesterday.

Yeah, no. I got caught up with this.

Okay, well, do it, and
take Fred for a run.

Fresh air's supposed to
help babies sleep at night.

And then I need you to
go by the paint store

and pick up four gallons of this:

- Seafoam Morning Mist.
- Mm-hmm.

And then can you swing by Voodoo Java

and get me a skinny grande
latte with extra foam

and drop it by the salon?

I've got ten clients today,
and I am not gonna make it

without my midday caffeine.

So how much did we pay for this?

It's a '47 Chief.

Mm-hmm.

3 grand.

Just 'cause things are tight,

you know, the salon was
closed for a long time,

your hours being cut
back at the shop, so...

Voodoo Java?

I know, but it's so good.

Well, you know, this'll
be worth, I mean,

around 12 when I'm
done, maybe even more.

Mm.

- All right.
- Yeah.

- Bye.
- Muah.

Don't forget to wear your mask.

I don't wanna get that shit again.

Ha.

I made a big mistake, son.

See, I rented this house

without asking your mommy first,

and now I'm basically her bitch.

Gallagher, you ready for
this afternoon, cadet?

- Sir.
- Department's counting on you.

I won't let you down.

Don't let that oath mess ya up.

- Sir?
- Yeah, you know,

the truth, the whole truth,
nothin' but the truth...

It's all bullshit.

You just tell the judge what
they need to hear to convict.

The bastard's guilty as hell.

Roger that.

I'm, uh, I'm aware
your academy application

included several irregularities.

Irregularities, sir?

Your age, your IQ score.

But with the loss of so
many officers to the 'rona,

the bosses are willing
to put you on the street,

as long as you do the right thing today.

- I will, sir.
- It's not a tough call

to give you a badge.

You're number one in
your class in firearms,

choke holds, baton beatings.

Well, what about my classroom work, sir?

You know, state laws, criminal statutes?

I'm kind of a slow reader.

Dead last.

But, hey, you don't
have to be an Einstein

to wear the blue.

Bustin' heads is a man's job,

and you are a natural born ass kicker.

So you go in that courtroom
this afternoon and kick ass.

- Huh?
- Yes, sir.

I like making bad decisions

That's right, Jamie.
Keep those ropes movin'.

Your rhomboids are loving it.

Back straight.

Engage those abs.

That's it, Celeste.

That's two more laps.

You got this.

All right, listen up, kombucha drinkers.

The Alibi has special prices

for all your cannabis needs.

Sore muscles?

Anxiety 'cause you're
not getting enough likes

for your most recent
adorable puppy post?

The Alibi's got
two-for-one deals

on all spliffs for anyone wearing

a Kev Fit t-shirt,

which are for sale right
over there on that tire.

What the hell are you doing, Dash?

Get your over-educated ass up

and give me another 50 mailbox presses.

- Jesus, man. Are you all right?
- It's my crypto.

- Your what?
- My Bitcoin.

It's down 30, and I was using it

to leverage my Tether and my Ethereum.

I have no idea what you just said.

Oil futures gutted
my portfolio last spring.

So if there's another
two-point drop on my cryptos,

I'll have to cover a margin call.

So that's bad.

It's fucking Death
Star Order of the Sith

Korriban invasion
exploding planet bad, man!

I'll-I'll have to call my-my dad.

- I got you. Come on.
- Okay.

Blue Dream. Yellow Sunflower.

Purple Haze. Our
five-year-old daughter Gemma

rolled those herself.

Pink Peppermint.

Mama's Mocha.

Gorilla... although, I
don't recommend Gorilla

for a beginner like you.

Oh, I'm not a beginner.

I smoked a lot of weed in college.

College weed, not the same thing.

Where'd you go to college?

- Kenyon.
- Where the fuck is Kenyon?

Ohio.

Yeah, you're a rookie.

Stick with the gummies
and the baked goods.

V baked these brownies
herself this morning.

Ooh, I love brownies.

You've had these kind of brownies?

No, but they look delicious.

They have a kick. You gotta make sure

you have someplace safe
to sit after you eat one.

One brownie?

Jesus, potheads are a bunch of pussies.

I knocked back 15 tequila shots

at my nephew's weird socially
distant wedding last week,

- and was fine driving home.
- Fifteen?

You check the grill of
your car the next morning

to make sure there wasn't
blood and hanks of hair?

What's a socially
distanced wedding like?

Stupid.

It was one person per pew,

and the bride and
groom kissed each other

with their masks on.

Like they're not just gonna go back

to the Honeymoon Hotel and bang boots.

Okay, weed is for old
hippies and cancer patients.

Real men drink.

Taylor Swift over there needs
a shot of JB, not gummies.

I-I tried weed when Grammy
had some for her glaucoma.

Made me sleepy.

Aw, this isn't your
grammy's weed, Kermit.

Glaucoma weed is a Prius.

This is a Ferrari at Daytona weed.

We're closed.

City of Chicago says all bars are closed

until further notice.

Go, go, go, go, go! Hide in the back.

- This is what we practiced.
- We are absolutely complying

with the mayor's very smart decision

to close all bars and taverns.

Distractions all around

- What's up?
- Oh, my...

- The fuck, Kev?
- Come on.

Hail 'rona survivors.

What-where is everyone?

Fuck, Frank?

You were supposed to
use the secret knock

on the door in the gym.

What? No, no.

I heard somewhere bars are open again.

Three weeks ago, maybe. Mayor
shut us all down again on Tuesday.

Well, who the hell can keep track?

And excuse me, but fuck the mayor.

He has no authority
to tread upon my rights

as a free American male

to drink my favorite brew
in the tavern of my choice.

The mayor is a she, and she has
every right to do it, and has.

Come on out, everyone. It's just Frank.

There they are. Do you want to...

False alarm, everybody.

Uh, this is-this is Brad.

He's making a major film about me.

Actually, my name is Alan.

I'm a graduate student at Lake Forest.

Holy shit.

What the hell is that?

Have I finally arrived at
Mecca after a long pilgrimage?

Hands off, Frank. We're
not offering credit

on cannabis products.

Payment up front only.

Lake Forest? The hell are you
doing all the way down here?

My doctoral dissertation

is on neighborhoods in transition

due to the economic displacement

caused by the pandemic.

Well, you've
come to the right place.

Lots of economic
displacement and transition

going on around here.

Gentrification, my friends.

The ten percenters
gobbling up what's left

of the working man's dreams
when he's down and out.

Felled by a tiny, lifeless microbe.

We're the last of the Mohicans.

Chicago aboriginals
struggling to preserve

a vanishing culture.

Actually, there were
aboriginal cultures here before us.

The Miami and the Kickapoo tribes.

Also Gallaghers.

Kev, could we?

Oh, shit, I... pay the man.

- Do you take Venmo?
- Hell no.

Holy shit.

- Gorilla?
- Yep.

Ohio.

Hey, Mrs. Lionetti, I'm almost done.

Leave. Now.

Huh? I'm almost finished.

- Seven?
- Seven what?

- She was seven years old?
- Who was seven years old?

If my Tony were still alive,

he'd take you down to
the lake, shoot you,

and push you in for the fish.

What are you talking about?

I got a notification.
I checked the website.

- What website?
- The sex offender website.

And your picture is on it.

This is you, right?

Hey, Hassan, coffee still fresh?

Four hours old.

That's good enough.

Gimme one sec.

- That still a buck?
- Yep.

Here you go.

Thank you.

$5.49? Jesus.

He spent all our wedding
money on God knows what.

Isn't marriage supposed
to be about communication?

Compromise? Agreed upon
mutual fuckin' goals?

How's that supposed to happen
when one person in the marriage

just goes off and does
whatever the hell he wants

without telling the other
person what he's doing?

Sounds just like me and my first
husband, Juan. No communication.

He sits around the house all day

like we're not in the worst
economy since the Depression.

Says we're still on our honeymoon.

- How long you been married?
- Six months.

What's he expect us to live on?

The bills are piling up.

Marriage is hard.

You should've worked that shit
out before you tied the knot.

Once you're married,
it's already too late.

Thanks, Teri.

- Hey.
- Hi.

Look at you. You fixed the jogger.

Yeah.

Hello, baby of mine. Hi.

Wow. You're sweating.

I did five miles.

Thank God. You're my savior.

And, uh, two packets raw sugar, right?

- Yes. Thanks.
- Here you go.

Did you go by the paint store yet?

I'm heading there next.

Oh. Where's my foam?

Oh, uh, you know, it must've gotten

all mixed in, you know,
when I was running.

Oh.

Oh, God.

Delicious.

Thank you.

Both: Muah.

Oh.

Seven! It says Julia was
seven years old, not 17.

It's not fuckin' funny.

Everybody's gonna think
I'm a child molester.

Well, you sort of are.

It's got my address, my social
security number, my email.

God damn it.

I'm lucky if the neighborhood moms

don't show up out front
tonight with torches

to hang me from the
playground swing set.

Okay, it's probably
not that big of a deal.

Look at all these other guys.

- What?
- All these little dots

on the map are sex
offenders in the area.

Jesus.

There must be 100 of them.

What the fuck is wrong with people?

Hey, that's Mr. Mosier down the block.

I knew it. He was always
way too into Halloween.

Nice picture, though.

You're sexy.

I mean, look at that cleavage.

- Yeah, I do look pretty hot.
- Mm-hmm.

Oh, shit.

Who the hell is gonna hire me now?

I told Lieutenant
Rucker I was undercover,

but he said I wasn't undercover.

But I was. Which is why I'm here today.

What were you asked to do
in that house, Mr. Gallagher?

Empty my bowels, ma'am.

- So, defecate?
- I did not defecate.

I took a shit.

Can you point to the man

who told you to take that shit?

That's him, ma'am.

Please let the record show

Mr. Gallagher identified
the defendant, Otis Grange.

- _
- Mr. Winston.

So, Mr. Gallagher,

you're a police cadet, are you not?

Yes, sir.

And you're 19 years old?

Almost 20, sir.

And how exactly did you get a spot

at the Chicago Police
Academy at such a tender age?

Tender? I'm not tender, sir.

I work out.

- I can bench 240.
- Good for you.

Did anyone promise you a
spot at the police academy

in exchange for your testimony
against my client today?

Sir, if you were to work garbage duty

in Chicago for six months,

you'd deserve a spot, too.

Is that a no?

Garbage in Chicago is dirty, sir.

Very dirty.

So no quid pro quo.

Squid pro what?

Were you told that you could
enter the police academy

two years early in
exchange for your testimony?

And let me remind you
that you have taken an oath

in this court to tell the truth,

and only the truth, so help you God.

No, sir.

I got into the academy because they know

I'm gonna be a great police officer.

You understand, Mr. Gallagher,

that lying under oath is perjury,

punishable by up to five
years in state prison.

Are you calling me a liar, sir?

Why? Because I grew up
poor on the South Side?

Because my father is a drunk
and my mother was a junkie?

Because I'm not as smart as you

and you can humiliate me
using big words I don't know.

I got into the academy because they know

when we roll up on a gun fight,

I'll be the one running
towards the shooting,

not away from it. They know
when a 911 call comes in

and it's some bastard
scumbag pistol-whipping

a little girl, trying to
steal her pink bicycle,

that I'll be there, ready
to take a bullet in the face.

O... kay.

There you go. Hey, man.

- Yo, Flavio.
- Hey.

I didn't know you worked here.

I thought you were
still at Rowdy's Chicken.

Yeah, yeah, Rowdy's
closed for good, man.

I survived the first shutdown,
but not the second one.

So, my uncle got me a job here.

He's afraid of my mom.

We all are. She drinking again?

Yeah. Waving that gun around.

- Oh, yeah.
- Yeah.

That your kid?

Uh, yeah, that's Fred.
Oh, he's sleeping.

Hey, look, you got, uh,

this Seafoam Morning Mist?

Uh, sure, yeah. The
Monticello Collection.

Supposed to be the colors
Thomas Jefferson created

for Monticello.

No kidding. Jefferson, huh?

Yeah, it's probably bullshit,

but the PBR crowd eats it up.

- It's pricey, though.
- Yeah? How pricey?

Uh, how many you need?

I don't know, four gallons.

Set you back a little
over a hundie with tax.

- Ooh.
- Yeah.

Um...

Hey, what about these?

Paint the yoga mat
ladies buy and then return

'cause they say it didn't
match the sample book.

- Got any blues?
- Mm, probably.

Mm, hmm...

Hey.

Oh, wait, what about this one?

Ah, no, they're not the same.

Ah, it's close enough.
You got another one of these blues?

Uh...

Yeah, yeah.

All right, great.

Now we just need two more.

That's not bad.

Hey, what do you think about those?

And blend together in the mixer,

pour the mixed paint

back into the cans.

You write Seafoam Morning
Mist on those cans,

there's an extra tenner
in it for you, all right?

- Deal.
- Thank you, thank you.

Thank you.

Hey, we're all set, okay, bud?

We're almost outta here, all right?

You check to make sure
he's still breathing?

I think he wet his pants.

Where the hell'd you get that?

On the floor. Joe
College didn't finish it.

Pretty good shit. I'd
give it four puffs.

- How's the Blue Dream?
- Mm.

"You'll float on a downy bank of clouds

on a bright summer's day."

The Pink Peppermint?

"Hints of an herb garden,

Alice in Wonderland,
and the Mad Hatter."

What flavor
are the gummies, lime?

- Mm-hmm.
- Jesus, where the fuck are we?

Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory?

What about the Purple
Haze? Is it really strong?

Uh, I'm not too sure about that one.
We just got that one in.

But our daughter Gemma... She's five...

- She rolled those herself.
- Oh.

Maybe I could be of some help.

Why don't you order one of each,

and I can sample them for you

and then rate them on my
world-renowned Gallagher Puff Scale?

- Puff Scale?
- One puff being a glass of rosé

on a warm, summery day.

Five puffs being you
wake up naked in an alley

with something stuck in your ass,

no idea where the fuck you are.

Leave the customers alone, Frank.

Two Pink Peppermints
and ten gummies, please.

Christ. Do we really need

another legal intoxicating substance?

- That shit's a gateway drug.
- Weed?

We're 20 years into the
next century, Nancy Reagan.

It's really a question
of personal freedom.

Why is it any of your damn business

if I choose to smoke
a fat one after dinner?

Or shoot up in the privacy
of my local Denny's bathroom?

It's my life. My body, my choice.

Your problem, Tommy, is you think

knocking back boilermakers

while your ass is stuck on that stool

is something that all red-blooded

white American males are supposed to do,

while smoking weed
is a Black folk thing.

The only reason why
marijuana's been illegal

for the last hundred years is because

poor Black people in the
ghetto were smoking it.

Marijuana prosecution
was criminalized racism.

Now that white people
decided they like smoking it,

it has to be made legal.

Can't make lily white kids go to prison

for having a couple of blunts.

That's it. That's how we stop it.

We've been getting gentrified

because it's gotten too safe down here.

The murder rate was at an all-time low

before the 'VID, right?

Rich people weren't
afraid to move down here.

But now that we've had a few good riots,

burned a few bougie stores,

I'll bet you the gentrifiers
are gettin' nervous.

All we gotta do is make
the Yards dangerous again.

Make sure the murder rate is rising.

Spill some blood.

What? We have to shoot people?

No, no, not just any people.

The right people.

Shoot a couple of
Millennials, like Alan here.

Oh, ho, the gentrifiers
would be on the first Uber

back to Bucktown.

It's a little extreme, don't you think?

Well, you don't have to kill him.

Just wound them. Get on the news.

Make the South Side dangerous again.

That's the Chicago I loved.

A lot of bleeding.

Well, I should probably get going.

Oh, hey! It was so great meeting you.

- Take care!
- Not that door. Back door.

Don't be a stranger.

He sure acts like he's
having a pretty great time.

Hey, you know, we should try it.

No thanks. I'm not a loser.

It's great for the immune system.

Also the libido. I've
had epic sex on weed.

If you don't wanna smoke
it, why not try a brownie?

They're all-natural and delicious, too.

Who doesn't love a brownie?

Okay, one brownie.

- Tommy?
- Nope.

Mmm, these are delicious.

Come on. What are you, chicken?

Chicken? A-are we in second grade?

Fine. Oh, God.

Fine, gimme the damn brownie.

Not bad.

Oh! Hey, if you're giving
free samples, can I...

- Going down, sir?
- He's going down.

Congratulations, Gallagher.

You're gonna get to be one
of the best of the best,

a goddamn Chicago police officer.

Thank you, sir.

- Hey.
- Hey. Shh.

- Naptime?
- Yeah.

Now he sleeps.

He'll be up all night
later. He's teething.

Have you tried Frank's
whiskey trick with the tub?

I'm pretty sure that's
considered bad parenting now.

I'm pretty sure that was
considered bad parenting then.

What's up?

Oh, the whole marriage
thing is harder than it looks.

Do you and Tami share your money?

We're not married.

You say so.

So how do you handle your cash?

Do you put it all together,
or just some of it, or what?

Here, hold this wrench, will you?

Yeah.

The money? Uh...

Uh, I guess Tami kinda runs things.

So you just give her all
your money and that's it?

We don't really have enough
money to worry about it.

But, uh, truth is,

I don't really care much about money.

And she cares a lot.

Me and you, we never had
much of anything growing up,

and we always managed to get by, right?

- Barely.
- Lemme see.

Tami, she always had enough.

Ever since this pandemic,
she's worried we won't.

It's weird how people with money

are always afraid of losing it

and all poor people can
think about is spending it.

But do you decide what you're
gonna spend money on together?

Well, there's really not much to decide.

We're, uh, pretty much broke
at the end of the month.

Why?

You and Mick having some money troubles?

Yeah, I make it, and he doesn't.

What, you didn't wanna
talk about any of that stuff

before you got married?

I figured we just agreed on
how things were gonna work.

Guess not, huh?

Yeah. It's my mistake, I guess.

Well, gotta talk about it.

Right? You compromise,
all that couple shit.

Look, you, uh, love each other,

Right?

- Yes.
- Okay, so,

gotta get on the same page
about how this marriage thing

is supposed to work.

You sure I can't just get him to do

everything the way I want?

Pretty sure, yeah.

Look, we didn't have
parents who could show us

what a relationship was
supposed to look like.

We gotta figure out that shit as we go.

The hell was that... Dr. Phil?

Good Housekeeping.

It's on the rack at
the well-child checkup.

Can you at least take the mugshot

with my cleavage off the site

and get Julia's age right?

Yes, she was 17, not seven.

Well, then check the damn court records!

I'm on probation... would I be
on probation if she'd been seven?

Really?

You can get probation if
you diddled a seven-year-old?

That's really fucked up.

Yes, please. Thank you so much.

Okay, she said she's
gonna correct Julia's age,

but they won't do
anything about the mugshot.

Well, I'm getting a lot of hits.

On what?

Your new Instagram account.

What new account?

@DebbieHotLesbianConvict.

I put it up with your cleavage mugshot.

"Wrongly convicted lesbian welder."

Would it have happened
if she wasn't queer?

Would anyone have cared
if she wasn't a lesbian?

It's blowing up.

Everybody wants to hire you.

Jesus, really?

Well, lots of lesbians, anyway.

And some seriously
creepy old white dudes.

Hm.

HotLesbianConvict.

You two okay?

Did you eat all the brownies?

I had three, and Tommy had four.

- Four?
- We were hungry.

- Kev! These fools ate all the brownies.
- And the gummies.

Jesus!

Are they okay?

I'm fine.

I just gotta hit the head.

Yeah, yeah me too.

Do you have a gas can around here, Kev?

What are you going on about?

Making the South Side
even more dangerous.

I'm thinking we set a cop car on fire.

The cops have to show up
with riot gear, tear gas.

I always loved this song.

Yeah. Me too.

♪ But the pain still grows ♪

♪ It's no stranger to you and me ♪

♪ I can feel it ♪

♪ Coming in the air tonight ♪

♪ Oh, Lord ♪

♪ Well, I've been waiting
for this moment ♪

♪ For all my life ♪

♪ Oh, Lord ♪

♪ I can feel it in the air tonight ♪

♪ Oh, Lord ♪

♪ Oh, Lord ♪

♪ Well, I've been waiting for this moment ♪

♪ For all my life ♪

♪ Oh, Lord ♪

♪ I can feel it coming ♪

♪ In the air tonight ♪

♪ Oh, Lord ♪

♪ And I've been waiting
for this moment ♪

♪ For all my life ♪

We need to be honest with
each other, all right?

No more secrets.

- No more secrets at all?
- No.

Nothing but truth.

We should've talked about what
we expected from each other

before we got married, but we didn't,

- so now we have to.
- Look, if this is about

the wedding money, I'm
gonna pay it back, man.

Yes, but it's also about...

It's about what we
want the marriage to be.

We need some rules.

Yeah, I'm not great with rules.

A mutual understanding
of how shit is gonna work.

What does that mean?

Like, how we spend money together,

joint purchases, monogamy.

The hell is that?

Not fucking other people.

Oh.

We just talking fucking,

or are we talking about blow jobs, too?

I think blow jobs should count, yeah.

Right.

You really never wanna
fuck anybody else?

I mean, I... if I'm being honest,

I'm not really sure either.

It's just kinda hard to imagine

that I'm never, ever gonna wanna

fuck anyone else, you know?

But I also know I...

definitely don't want
you to fuck anyone else.

Well, hold on, that just means
you wanna be able to fuck other people

but you don't want me to be
able to fuck other people.

That doesn't sound fair.

Okay, so we're both monogamous

or we both get to fuck other people.

- Yeah. That sounds fair.
- Mm-hmm.

What do you wanna do?

What do you wanna do?

I asked you first.

I don't know.

Okay, uh, I'll tell you what.

We'll both each write down what we want,

then we'll turn our answers
over at the same time.

Great.

So we both turn 'em over on three.

One, two, three.

Hey

Hey, turn your fuckin' paper over.

I think I spelled monogamy wrong.

- I spelled monogamy wrong!
- Will you let me...

I spelled it wrong!
Oh, shit, he-ey-ey-ey!

Look who's a real cop now.

Yep. Badge, gun, and everything.

- You graduated?
- Tomorrow.

But they gave us the uniforms today

so we can wear 'em to the ceremony.

Fuckin' fantastic.
No more parking tickets for me.

You don't have a car, dumbass.

- Hey.
- Hey.

- Where y'all goin'?
- Lip and Tami's.

Gotta finish dry-walling
the living room.

Hey, y'all get enough chicken?

Two buckets of extra crispy.

You two coming or what?

- Hell yeah. Hell yeah.
- Uh...

Yeah.

Let's do it.

Hey!

How am I
supposed to open the door

- when I don't have any hands?
- Yo!

- What's up, Lip?
- My man.

- Hi! We have arrived!
- Hi! What the fuck?

- Hi.
- Yo! Hey.

- We made it.
- Hi.

Look at you.

- Check it out.
- Wow. Nice.

Hey, gimme a hammer.
I wanna break some shit.

- You wanna help?
- I guess so.

There you go.

- Yo.
- Yo.

Hey, you guys talk?

Uh... sort of.

- Yeah?
- Yeah. We'll figure it out.

Hey.

Uh, hey.

- Everything good?
- Yeah, yeah.

All right. Hey, I wanna
show you something.

Yeah?

What do you think?

Uh, it's beautiful.

Definitely worth the extra money.

Absolutely.

Okay, I am starving.

Hey, Tami.

Hey.

Hey, Fran, you wanna help Uncle Carl?

Lose your doubts

Holding on, let it out

This is the beginning

This is my Chicago,

the Chicago I love.

Lip's got a baby now.

Debbie's got a kid and a rap sheet.

Carl's gonna be a cop.

Didn't see that coming.

Ian's married to a Milkovich.

Really didn't see that coming.

Family looking after family.

That's the South Side way.

The Gallagher way.

Yeah, this is our Chicago.

It's disappearing fast.

But before it's gone,

we're gonna enjoy every
fuckin' minute of it.

Are you Hot Lesbian Convict Lady?

Would you, um, like to buy some cookies,

Hot Lesbian Convict Lady?

I'm only seven.