All language subtitles for Bored To Death s02e04 God.eng

You know, I blame myself
for this prostate cancer.

If you have a character flaw,

you're susceptible to disease
in that area.

What do you mean?
I don't understand.

It's a new theory of mine.
For example,

I had a great aunt
who lived up in Newport.

She used her beauty selfishly--

got married four times,
always for money.

And then she had sinus cancer

and her nose
had to be removed.

- Oh my God, the nose.
- I know, very disfiguring.

Now there's me.
You know,

I've been sexually out of control
for 40 years.

I mean, I've torn
through people's lives.

So my punishment
is prostate cancer.

George, you're being
way too hard on yourself.

It's not good
for your immune system.

No, I'm not being too hard,
Jonathan.

I've been selfish.
I've been living like a demented god.

Well, I wish I could live
like a demented god.

I've been living
like a demented loser.

No, this is about me.

Look, I'm the only one
who's allowed to be negative here.

But I suck at everything.
I was broken up with again.

I'm a lousy detective.
My parents had to bail me out.

Name one private detective who goes
to his parents when he's in trouble.

And I'm failing as a writer.

I disagree with everything
you've said.

There's nothing to disagree with.
These are statements of fact.

I should probably just quit everything
and go to law school.

Oh God no, that's horrible.
No, listen to me--

Jonathan, everything you do is fun--

being a detective,
being a writer.

Pay attention to a dying man.

Keep doing what you're doing.
It's not boring.

And that's all that counts in life.

George, you're not dying.

You're gonna be okay.

You're dating your doctor.
She cares about your prostate.

But I may not be okay.

You know, I was reading
Joan Didion,

where she describes
how her husband died-- just like that.

It just seems so unfair
that we can be turned off

like a-- like a switch,

like we never lived,
like we never mattered.

I don't want to be turned off.

Okay.

We both need to do a lot better
with our positive thinking.

Mmm.

What's something positive
we can think about?

Uh...

oh-- no,

that last bag of pot
you got me?

Very dreamy.
Now that's positive.

In my mind,
I saw a dandelion

turn into a tiger's paw.

It was beautiful.

Right.

You're not what I had
in mind for a dick.

I was expecting a piece of beef--
shoulders.

Well, if you don't like my dimensions,
I thank you for the whiskey

- and I'll be on my way.
- No no. No no no.

I'm sorry.
You got expressive hands.

That's a sign of intelligence
and I need somebody with brains.

I'll take the compliment.
I'm short on them these days.

So what's the nature
of your problem, Professor?

Do you break into places
for clients?

I've been known to.
What do you need done?

Oh, I screwed up... bad.

Look, I'll be frank with you--
I'm a tenured professor,

But I'm also a junkie--

functional.

But I got in hock to my dealers.

I was desperate and I gave them
something valuable.

- What did you give them?
- A signed first edition of "On The Road."

I convinced them it was
worth $1,000 on eBay.

Wow.
I love Jack Kerouac.

What Capote said about him
was completely unfair.

Yeah, but I went online
after I gave it to them

and I found out the book
is worth much more than I thought.

I'm an idiot. It could fetch
as much as 75 grand.

Holy shit.
That's a lot of money.

That's right.
I could retire on that cash.

And I need a new chair.

You know,
when you're chairbound,

hemorrhoids are very cruel.

So where's the book now?

I don't know.
But here's what I had in mind--

tomorrow their runner
drops off my bag of dope.

You follow 'em
back to their base.

When they're out,
you get the book.

- Will you do it?
- Okay, I'll take the case.

Ah, good. You come in a queer package,
but you got guts.

- I had guts once.
- If you don't mind me asking,

what kind of professor are you,
Professor?

I'm a novelist.

I teach fiction writing
in the MFA program.

Really? I'm a--

I'm sorry, I haven't heard of you.
What books have you written?

Just one.
It came out in '70.

It was called
"The Music That Kills,"

about a homicidal concert pianist,
goes nuts from too much practicing.

Why didn't you write
a second novel?

Because I was afraid to.

Shit.

- There's Ray.
- Oh my God, it's Ray.

Ma, look, there's Ray.

Ray! Ray!

- Hey, hi.
- Hi Ray!

Okay, girls.
Why don't you go with Molly and Lydia?

- Little ladies.
- The girls wanted to,

well, you know.
It's funny bumping into you.

- Ha. Only in Brooklyn.
- Yep.

What happened
to your forehead?

Oh that? George shot me
with a rubber-bullet gun.

- What?
- It doesn't matter.

I'm sorry about that night
with Irwin--

you know, your lover
with the orange pubes?

Yeah, I know
who you're talking about.

But it's all right.
I haven't heard from him since.

Oh, good good.
I mean...

so did you--
did you read my comic book?

Uh, I haven't had the chance.
I'm sorry.

Did you listen to the mix CD
I made for you?

I put Chet Baker on it because I know
that you like the shape of his nose.

- Did you listen to that?
- Not yet, but I will.

You should listen to it.
I mean, it tells the story

of our relationship in 18 songs.

I kind of put them
in chronological order

from when we first met
to the end part.

- Ray, I've got to go.
- Me too. Yeah, okay.

- Okay, come on, guys.
- Bye, Ray!

- Hey, is that Leah?
- Yeah, you're late.

That would have never happened
had you been here 10 minutes ago.

Sorry.
I had insomnia.

I masturbated like four times
to pass out,

but I couldn't fall asleep
till 6:00 in the morning

and then I slept late.
I'm sorry.

So was it okay
to see Leah?

No. That's the horrible miracle
of break-ups--

three years together and then you act
like you don't even know each other.

I'm sorry, Ray.

Super Ray.
Thanks for coming in, man.

- Bob, this is my friend Jonathan.
- Hi.

Hey, I didn't want
to give it away in my e-mail,

but your comic book
is selling like crazy.

- What?
- Yeah. It's a hit, man.

You might want to think about getting
a legit publisher for this thing.

I mean, look,
self-publishing is cool,

but I think the demand's
gonna be too great.

Oh, yo,
let me get your money.

Yeah okay.
Yeah, good.

Ray, this is wonderful.

- Are-- are you the creator of "Super Ray"?
- Uh, yes I am.

- Could you sign my copy of your comic?
- Sure, sure.

We think it's so cool
that Super Ray gets his powers

from his penis
hitting the third rail.

Where do you get your ideas?

- I smoke pot, then I draw.
- That's cool.

Um, could you sign this page?
It's my favorite.

- Sure.
- It's so romantic.

Super Ray really loves Leah.

Yes he does.

Okay, here you go.

Are you a Vulcan or an elf?

Oh please, I'm an elf.

Right, okay.
Sorry.

I can't believe you did that.

- I know!
- Holy shit.

You're on a roll.
What's going on?

I don't know.
But something is happening.

Ever since I finished the comic book,
it's like I am Super Ray.

I mean, aside from Leah
crushing my balls,

I'm feeling pretty good.

It's cool.
It's like you're having

some kind of a psychic transference
with your own character.

Yes. Also...

my mom gave me some advice
from a self-help pamphlet that she reads.

She's always doing that
because of my dad's OTB addiction

and because
of her diabetes foot.

- I forgot she has diabetes.
- Yes.

She told me to visualize
impossible things happening,

which I did.
You know what I visualized?

- Making money.
- I need to get that pamphlet.

Super Ray!
There's your money, Ray.

- Bang.
-
Let's go have a drink

It's not even noon.
I can't anyways.

I've got to go
to Midwood College for a case.

- Do you want to come?
- Are you kidding?

Last time I tried to help you,
George shot me in the head.

What would a police duck

say to a suicidal bear?

"You can bear it."

Oh God, that's terrible.

I'm never gonna win this thing.

- What are you doing?
- Ah.

Um, I was just studying
"The New Yorker."

I had an idea too.

Instead of the caption contest,
which is stupid,

why don't we let readers
send in cartoons every week

and we'll publish the best one?

You know, I think people will love that.
That's not a bad idea.

I have a friend, actually,
who's a cartoonist.

No, I don't like cartoons.

All right.

So I just came by
to let you know

that all "Edition" employees
are subject

to a mandatory random drug test
this afternoon.

A drug test? Oh no.
No, listen--

that is not
in the spirit of things

that I have cultivated
here at "Edition."

I'm sorry. But it's protocol
for all subsidiaries

of Wellstone Media.
They require it.

All right.
I'll inform the troops,

but they're not gonna like it.

Well, the troops already know, George.
I'm just here to inform you.

I have to take a drug test?

As soon as he leaves,
I'll go out on this balcony.

Now you wait outside.

When I spot him,
I'll give you this sign.

I like that signal.
I've used it before.

All right.

I want to confess something,
Professor Hawkins.

Yeah?

You see,
I'm also a writer like you.

I've published one novel.

Oh no, I need a detective--
a man of action--

not some effete scribbler.

You've got to get that book for me.
I need that 75 grand.

- This chair is killing me.
- Don't worry.

I'm both--
writer and detective.

Uh, okay. I get it.

Yeah. That's good-- a writer
needs to get his hands dirty,

be steeped in vice.

- I knew you had guts!
- Thank you.

You know, you should write about your cases
like Dashiell Hammett did.

Oh shit!
He'll be here any minute.

Go on, get downstairs.

...I'm definitely gonna go
to the meeting.

Hello, Professor.

- Jonathan?
- Oh. Hello, Louis. This is odd.

What are you doing here
at Midwood College?

Let me guess-- you're taking
a basic writing class.

No, Louis, I'm not in school.
I'm on a case.

Oh yes, I forgot about your
mental troubles in that area.

Tell me, you weren't
a forceps baby, were you?

Your skull
seems pinched on top.

Shut up, Louis.
What are you doing here?

I'm adjuncting in
the English department this semester.

- You-- really?
- Yes, of course.

God, I would love
to teach here someday.

I mean, this campus
is so romantic.

And I'm already very partial
to sport coats,

which is great
for being a professor.

Don't be ridiculous, Jonathan.
You're not cut out for academia.

What are you going to do-- teach students
how to write without flair or talent?

Greene, what exactly
is your problem with me?

Quite simply,
you offend me aesthetically.

And I regret not thrashing you
more thoroughly in the boxing ring.

But I won.

I feel, in retrospect, that I performed
in the more dominating fashion.

What?
Do I have something?

But-- where are you going?

I'm sorry
you're so bitter, Greene.

Must be difficult to have never known
the touch of a woman

because you have the bloated head
of a pumpkin and breath like cat food.

Well, at least I don't
advertise myself on craigslist

like some kind of whore.

Calling yourself
a private detective! Ha!

Humph-- I suppose it's better
than calling yourself a writer.

- Here you go.
- Thank you, maestro.

Can I get a couple of shots of a nice whiskey
for me and the lady, please?

Sure.

Ahem--

Ah-hh. Two more, please.
Ahem.

So what's the big occasion?

I came into a little bit
of money today.

Hmm. So I guess you can buy me
another drink.

Sure.

Sorry about that.

So what's your name?

- Trouble.
- "Trouble."

That was my mom's name.

Oh, that's good.
That's smoky.

- Two more?
- Sure.

You could grow
on a person.

I have.

So what's your middle name?

Carol.

Carol.
That's my father's name.

Oh hey. Walter, right?
How you doing?

I'm fine, but my name is Steven,
Mr. Christopher.

Right right, sorry.
I was just wondering, Steven--

see, I took this anti-diuretic

and I am--
I'm very very dry.

Any chance that you could
fill up my urine cup for me?

I mean, it would be
embarrassing if all I had

was a few
meager droplets, right?

I don't understand.

All I'm saying is
a young fellow like yourself

probably has enough urine
for two people.

Now is that too much
to ask?

Excuse me, Mr. Christopher,

I-- I have to go look
at something on my computer.

Ha! Ha.
All right.

Shit.

Hey. Bobby, right?
How old are you?

- George, listen--
- Hey, Jonathan, Jonathan,

how long does marijuana
stay in a person's system?

- Is it more than 24 hours?
- I'm not sure. Listen--

Well, shit, you're supposed to know
these things.

Why?
I'm not an expert.

I did hear something about marijuana
staying in our fatty tissues--

- Oh oh.
- What the fuck are you doing?

- George, I have to go.
- No no!

I need help. Oh--!

I was just inspecting
the sealing of your window here

and you're definitely at risk
for leakage.

You a fuckin' cop?
You look like a cop.

I do?

Oh no, that's...

I swear I'm not a cop.

I was just walking by
and I was drawn to your window.

I admit it--

I'm a voyeur.

What the fuck is a voyeur?

You know,
like a peeping Tom.

- Who the fuck is Tom?
- And who the fuck is that?

How'd you get that band-aid?

Police work with friends.

Mmm. That's sexy.

Mm-hmm.

Mmm. My God,
look at this thing.

Mm-hmm.

- It's so beardy.
- Mm-hmm.

I want to go down on it.

I don't like that.

- My dad had a beard.
- Mmm.

He died when I was 16
of esophageal hemorrhages...

from drinking.

- I'm gonna be a dad.
- Mmm?

These two lesbians in Ditmas Park
got ahold of my sperm

and they're
six months' pregnant.

I don't know if I'm ever gonna
be allowed to see the child, but--

I don't want to hear
about your other women.

Yeah, sorry.

Boop boop.

You should let me go
and hurt him.

I'm just a writer. I'm doing a piece
on him for "The New Yorker."

- You are?
- I was thinking about a "Talk of the Town" piece.

You know, they're always about
marginal crackpots living on the edge of reality--

your whole Walter Mitty delusion
about being a detective.

See, these motherfuckers
are detectives.

- No no no!
- Listen, guys, guys!

We are not undercover cops.
I swear.

I'll buy pot from you.
Would a cop buy pot?

I have a friend--
he has cancer.

He needs marijuana.
Now my own dealer disappeared recently.

That's probably because
you put him away.

Yeah, don't try that
entrapment bullshit, assholes.

There's only one way to know
whether a cop is a cop.

Here you go.

Snort this, "Five-0,"
and show us you ain't a cop.

I refuse.
That house key is very dirty

and I've never done anything stronger
than a vodka gimlet.

- So...
- Snort it.

- I just couldn't--
- Snort it.

I have terrible nasal polyps.

Run!

- It says "Don't Walk."
- Just run!

You know, I still can't believe
you thought for a moment

that you could teach
at Midwood College.

Would you just shut up?
I could teach there.

I'm teaching at Metropolitan
Writers Workshop.

Ha!
That rip-off night school?

The only students there
are ex-cons and subnormals.

Ah! Fuckety!

Oh shit. Come on.
Come on.

Come on.

Ah!

I can't. I can't go on.
Oh, listen to me.

You bastard. You've reduced my life
to a B movie.

You know, go get help, you idiot.

I'll hide behind these logs.

Okay.
I'll be back.

I just want you to know
that even though

you're the most horrible person I've ever met,
I won't leave you here to die.

Go, you idiot!
Oh, sentimental claptrap.

- Follow these footprints!
- Turn right.

- All right, all right.
- I don't see him!

Oh, come on, man.

Help, Jonathan! Help!

What are you looking for, man?
What you lookin' for?

Let me help him.

Oh, you didn't.
Ugh-hh!

Get away from me.

Come here.
Come on.

Let's go.

- Ah!
- This way.

Gotta get my bag of pot
and the book.

My ankle will never be the same
because of you.

Shut up, Louis.
I just saved your life.

George, we need to talk.

Sure, come on in.

I'm working on my column,
but it can wait for you.

I'm going to speak
very slowly

because you're probably
stoned right now.

Your urine
tested off the charts

for THC.

What?
You already got the results?

On-site lab, George--
very high-tech.

And adding soap to your specimen
wasn't very clever.

Soap? Oh no.
There must be a mistake.

I mean, it happens
all the time at the Olympics--

Somebody's sample gets confused
with somebody else's.

You know, I've noticed
that Walter has--

Steven has sometimes
very red beady eyes. Have you--

George, you're going
to have to go to rehab.

Company policy.

We usually send people
to a very nice place in Arizona.

- Ariz-- oh Jesus.
- The dry air is good for sobriety.

Katherine?

I haven't wanted to
tell anyone

because I didn't want to frighten
anyone here at the office,

- but I have prostate cancer.
- What?

I can get you a doctor's note
and everything.

I admit I've been
smoking marijuana,

but for medicinal purposes.

It's why I failed the drug test.

Oh, George, I'm very sorry
about your cancer.

It's okay. It's-- I'm sure
everything will turn out all right.

My doctor is wonderful.
We started dating, actually.

You're dating your doctor?
Did you get a second opinion?

No no, but you know,
she has very good taste.

So no no,
I trust her opinion.

All right.
Well, you'll let me know

if there's anything
I can do to help.

Of course, Katherine.

Okay.

I have cancer.

So Greene is down on the ground

like Piggy in "Lord of the Flies"
and I just can't leave him there.

So I swoop in-- huh-hunh!

Hah hah! Bam!

I mean, it was like I was having
an out-of-body experience.

I took them all out, George.
It was incredible.

I am so proud of you,
dear boy.

I think it's because of this pamphlet
that Ray's mom read.

It's all about visualizing
delusional things

- and then believing in them.
- But isn't that like schizophrenia?

You have a point.
Anyway, maybe just as an exercise,

you should visualize
that your prostate is cancer-free.

Well, you know I have an open mind
to all these things. I'll try anything.

Good. I'm gonna try.

I'm gonna visualize three
delusional things for myself--

that I'm a successful writer,
detective and college professor.

I like all those
professions for you.

Yeah. And what's good
about all these jobs

is you wear basically
the same outfit-- sport coats--

So you save money.
And I look good in them.

- Can I show you again how I took them all out?
- Of course.

Okay. So here I am standing
in the trees, right?

Now Greene is down on the ground here
and he's looking for his glasses.

That's my favorite part.

Now I am here.
I go down...

Where am I?

Who are you?

I'll tell you later.

Whatever you do,
do not flush the toilet.

-
That I love ya

-
I need ya

-
You know I love ya

-
I need ya

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