Original subtitles

- Hey, no, kids, you're getting marker on the table.

Ray, do something.

- don't mark the table, kids.

- Here, kids.

We'll use this newspaper as your mat.

- Hey, come on. What are you doing?

For your information, I was reading something

that the president of the United States said.

- Yeah, what did the president say to marmaduke?

- "Tell your wife to lighten up."

- Hey. - Hey, Robert.

- Hey, kids.

- Hi. - Hi, uncle Robert.

- I drew a picture of you, uncle Robert.

- Oh!

- And that's mommy in the picture too.

- Oh, great. And where is your dad?

- I didn't draw him.

- May I keep this?

- Yeah, well, they're not done yet.

They still got to draw the bolts in your neck.

- Now, that, Raymond, is not nice,

and that's why you're not in the picture.

What is this?

"As we honor frank barone's memory,

"we should also be honest about who he was in life,

because he always believed in telling it like it is."

- That's on the back of your picture?

Michael, where'd you get that paper?

- From daddy's office.

- "Who he was in life... Honor frank barone's memory..."

This sounds like he's...

Passed on.

- Michael, why would you write this?

- Jungle love

it's driving me mad

it's making me crazy, crazy

jungle love

it's driving me mad

it's making me crazy, crazy

jungle love

it's driving me mad

it's making me crazy, crazy

jungle love

it's driving me mad

it's making me crazy

- what the hell is that, man?

- It's nothing.

Look, sometimes when a sports star dies,

I write a column that's like an appreciation for him.

- Oh, I see, okay. Now it all makes sense.

Except dad isn't a dead sports star.

Unless he got really good at hockey this morning

and then you killed him.

- Look, I was writing a real appreciation

for someone else, and I--

I don't know, I just had some thoughts

about what I might say for dad.

- An appreciation of your father.

Really?

- And you know what I'd like to know?

Why would you just assume that you get to do the eulogy, huh?

What's gonna be my job at the funeral,

keeping your screaming fans off the stage?

- It's not--

it's not a eulogy. I jotted a few things down.

- Oh, jotted. You jotted, did you?

There's, like, eight paragraphs right here.

- Hey, I'm a professional writer, remember, okay?

For me, this is like doodling.

In fact, I wrote more than this.

Wait a minute.

Hey, guys.

Guys, is this all that you drew?

- No, we drew a lot. - Really?

- Good, great. Where are the other pictures?

- We gave them to grandma.

- No!

- Daddy's weird.

- Oh.

- Hello, Raymond. - Hey.

Hello.

Hey, uh, how's everybody?

- Good. Are you hungry, dear?

- No, no, no, no, no. No, I'm okay.

Oh, yeah. Yeah.

You know what? I'll get it.

- No, you do enough of that at home--sit down.

- No, let me see what's in the frigidaire.

- No, I'll get it, I'll get it, I'll get it.

What would you like to eat, Raymond?

Oh, I got lasagna.

- What else you got?

- I got ham. Ooh, delicious.

I put a glaze of pineapple on it.

Okay.

- You got any frozen treats?

- Yeah, I got some fudge pops.

- Ma, I'll be right back. I got to go.

I got to put the thing in the thing.

- Hey, whoa. What are you doing with those?

- Oh, yeah. These are the kids' pictures.

I just--I'm gonna frame them all.

- That chicken scratch?

What does it say to your children

if you frame even their worst crap?

- It says you love them.

- No, it says you love crap.

- Okay, all right, I'll see you.

- Hey, hold on. You can't take those.

- What? Why not? You just said they were crap.

- Well, yes, I did,

but they're my crap.

I'm watching the game.

- Okay.

- You know, I'm just gonna watch the game with dad.

- He doesn't have it.

- What?

- The picture you're looking for.

- What--what are you talking about?

- The one with your father's eulogy on the back.

- Ohh, ma! Did he see it?

- Of course not!

- Look, I know it's-- it's awful

and it's morbid and it's weird.

- Uh-huh. Just tell me one thing.

- Where's mine?

- What?

- You wrote a tribute for your father.

Where's mine?

- It's not a tribute. It's just--

I doodled a couple things.

That's all. It's nothing.

- Uh-huh.

So I don't get one.

- Ma, this is a eulogy.

I didn't write yours because...

Because even thinking about it would make me too, too sad.

- Ohh-h-h.

Oh, you're sweet.

I'd like to see something by Wednesday.

- Can you believe that?

She wants me to write her eulogy now.

- Ray, she's gonna want you in the coffin with her.

- Yeah, well, I'd rather not do that either.

- Why did you have to write your father's eulogy?

- What? It's like a writing challenge.

- A challenge? - Yeah.

How do you make people miss that guy?

See, it's all about--

well, I mean, this is kind of technical writer stuff.

- No, try me.

- Okay.

Everybody thinks that my father is, well, a jerk.

- How technical.

- So you start by talking about his jerk-like qualities,

which everyone agrees with,

but also makes 'em feel a little guilty,

because he's lying there dead and all.

And that's when I hit them with an example

of him being sweet.

And then it's, "boo-hoo. Frank, we hardly knew ye."

- And that example of sweet is?

- You think I don't got it. I got it.

When Robert and I were kids, we had this bunny

we kept in a cage in the back.

I named him hoppy.

- Hoppy?

- I'm a writer.

Anyway...

My dad, he always told me he hated him.

But then one day, in the middle of the night,

I come down to get some juice,

and I go in the kitchen and I look out the window,

and I see him there.

And he's got the cage open,

and he's sitting down next to it, petting hoppy.

He was-- he was being all...

Gentle.

So I don't know, I just...

Something about seeing him like that,

it just stayed with me.

I don't know; I guess I just like

thinking about him like that.

See? I told you it's good stuff!

- That's so sad.

- Well, that's what you want in a eulogy.

Guy's dead.

- No, it's sad because, what, it's been 35 years?

You--you never told him this, did you?

- Told him what, about petting the bunny?

- Yeah, you got to tell him that you saw him

and how it made you feel.

- Are you new here?

- Ray, you have to talk to him about this.

- No, I'm not!

- So the only way that you could have a nice conversation

with your father is if he's dead.

- So you see my problem.

Hey, the kids marked the table.

- I won the lottery-- 20 bucks.

- Congratulations, frank.

- Yeah, "congratulations."

That's what a person says,

not what the banshee over there says.

"I told you not to buy those things at the drugstore.

Where's my prescription?"

- You didn't get her prescription?

- She'll be fine.

Look, I won. I reinvested it.

I already scratched five, but I'm having a bum streak.

I need to change up.

Here, you scratch.

- I get a cut, right?

- 10%.

But if we win big, no one tells your mother

till I'm in rio with Harriet lichtman.

- Take ray with you. He likes Harriet lichtman.

- Aw...Nothing.

- Nothing. - Nothing.

- Aw, it's rigged.

Stupid New York state humps.

- Oh, look at that.

You think you're gonna win, then you don't.

That's how they get you.

Hey, dad, remember--

remember that bunny that me and Robert had?

- Sure. That thing stank.

- I think I named it hoppy.

- I hated it.

- It's weird, you know. It's silly--

I think I saw you petting him once.

- What?

- Yeah, yeah, you were petting the bunny.

- What, are you on drugs?

- No, no, I remember; I was, like, eight years old

and I came downstairs to get some juice,

and I saw you petting it.

- Maybe you came downstairs to get some drugs.

- Frank, it's a nice memory. He thinks it's sweet.

- I don't give a rat's tail what he thinks.

It never happened.

- All right, dad, what are you making a big deal for?

- Because you make things up.

- I don't think so.

- Frank, Ray's trying to share something with you.

- Share a lie?

- No. About you.

When he saw you pet that bunny--

- I didn't pet a bunny.

- No, frank, you don't understand.

- I never pet a bunny!

- All right, Debra, forget about it.

- No, no, ray. Frank, what is wrong with you?

You showed a gentle side to yourself.

- Why do I come here?

I give you a chance to win millions, you give me this!

- All right, dad. Never mind, all right?

- No, you never mind!

Give me the tickets. The deal is off.

I don't share anything with liars.

- Are you sure he wasn't punching the bunny?

- Hi, grandma!

- Here you go, Marie, a load of trouble for the night.

- Oh, they're no trouble. I made some cookies.

Hurry before uncle Robert and grandpa eat them all.

- Cookies! - Yay!

- No, no! Get back!

- Hey, thanks for sitting, Marie.

- Yeah, thanks, ma.

Hey, how's dad doing?

- You didn't tell him about the eulogy, did you?

- No, why?

- Because ever since he got back yesterday,

he's been in a terrible mood.

Debra, did you give him something to eat?

- No, ma.

Debra made me bring up the bunny story with dad.

- Then frank got all angry and pretended it didn't happen.

- Why? It's a lovely story.

He's such an idiot.

- Marie, the guys are coming over.

We're going to the lodge.

What do you two want?

- Listen, frank-- - no, let me, let me.

Look, dad, I'm sorry

I brought up the thing yesterday.

I must have remembered wrong.

- You have nothing to apologize about, Raymond.

It's a very sweet story.

- What story?

- The time your father pet the bunny.

- I did not!

- Hoppy? You pet hoppy?

- No!

- Why would you deny that? - Exactly.

- Oh, you pet hoppy. That's so sweet.

You want a cookie? I'm gonna get you a cookie.

- Get away from me!

You happy? Look what you did.

- I'm sorry.

- Hello, everybody.

- Hi, Stan. Hi, garvin.

- Hey, Ray's here!

Ha ha ha!

- Hey. Hello, guys.

- You ready, frank?

- You're damn right I'm ready.

I'd go anywhere to get out of here.

- Hey, frank, that handball tournament starts next week.

You in? - Yeah, I'm in.

- You're gonna have to go up against bullethead.

- I can beat that guy on my worst day.

- Oh, yeah, you're the toughest, frank.

- Damn straight.

- Hey, you leave this at the lodge?

- What the hell is this?

- I think you know what it is.

- And I think you know what to do.

- Oh, that's adorable.

- Get out of here!

You're telling everyone your lies.

- I didn't tell them anything!

- You know, it's the talk of the lodge.

- Yeah, how you'd go in the backyard

and sing songs to the bunny

and rub nosies with it.

Rub noses with the bunny.

- There never was any bunny! Who told you this?

- My wife. - Your wife?

How the hell does she know anything about this?

- Your wife--she knows how to get the word out.

It's like tom-Toms.

"Frank pet a bunny. Frank pet a bunny."

- You're telling people this?

- Frank, you should be proud of it.

Finally, you're loveable.

- Would you stop?

I am not loveable, all right?

I am not sweet! I fought in Korea!

I am no bunny-petter!

- Then why would ray put it in your eulogy?

- My what?

- I can explain, dad. - don't, Robert.

- Apparently, Raymond, as sort of a fun hobby,

fantasizes about what he'll say upon your demise.

- What?

- Oh, yes. He wrote a eulogy for you.

And he's ready to go at a moment's notice...

If you are.

- You're planning my death?

- No, no! - Just your funeral.

- Ray, you better go.

- I'm stilly waiting for my eulogy, Raymond.

- See you, ray! I like those pants on you!

- Dad.

Hey, dad, can I talk to you?

- Can't you see I'm busy?

- You're hitting a license plate with a hammer.

- I'm personalizing it.

- Look, dad, you weren't supposed to hear the eulogy.

- Yeah, I guess I screwed you up by not being dead.

- Come on. I was just--

I was writing it for myself, all right?

I--I don't want you to die.

- Look, I don't care what your screwed-up reason

for writing a funeral speech was.

I hated that bunny!

And by the way, you never cleaned the cage.

It was dirty.

You kids-- "daddy, buy me a bunny.

We'll take care of it."

I was lied to.

- I was eight.

- And already a liar.

- All right. Dad, I'm sorry.

- I had to pet that bunny-- every night.

- Every night? - Every night!

The damn bunny needed some attention.

And that's the thanks I get. Now I've lost everything.

- Lost what? What did you lose?

- Oh, not much. Just my reputation as a man.

- Come on, look, those guys, they're only teasing you.

- Listen to me. I'm the tough one.

That's how the community sees me.

- What community?

You're in a steam room in a lodge with six naked guys.

- That's my community.

And everyone's got their thing.

Stan's got the brains, garvin's got the looks,

and I'm the tough one.

- Yeah, all right.

First of all, dad, with the looks,

I'm gonna declare it a three-way tie.

- I can't talk to you.

- Come on, you can't talk to me?

Why do you think I wrote the eulogy

with the stupid bunny story?

- That's what I'd like to know.

You know, I know some things about you

you wouldn't want me telling everybody.

- All right, that's different, dad.

- No, no, no, it's a good story.

I go up to the attic one day... - All right, dad.

- And I turn on the light... - Dad.

- And imagine my surprise.

- That's different, dad!

- No, it's not!

I'm telling you, I hate that bunny story!

Why the hell would you want to remember me like that?

I wanted you to know I was tough!

I worked hard at that!

- All right, look, the bunny thing--

the only reason I even remember it

is 'cause it's so unlike you.

You were the toughest son of a bitch I ever knew.

- You gonna put that in?

- I could.

- Write it down before you forget it.

- All right.

And I'll--I'll take the bunny thing out.

- No, no, no, no.

Maybe leave that in.

- Yeah?

- No, I don't know. I'm not sure now.

You know what?

Surprise me.

- Ma, I think I've come up with something

you might like for your eulogy.

"What can I say about my dear mother?"

- Oh, Robbie.

Robbie,

that's so very nice.

But Raymond is the writer.

And besides, you're going to be very busy that day.

You're a policeman.

I'm gonna need you for my motorcade

to stop all the traffic.

Sweet.

- "What can I say

"about Raymond?

"One day,

I went up to the attic..."