Original subtitles

Uh, the truth is, my father was a very flawed parent

and a very flawed husband.

Heck, he was very flawed man.

But that did not stop him

from trying his level best at all three.

You were a complicated man, sir.

But you very lived hard and in that passion for life.

Well, therein lies the lesson

for those of us that -- that you left behind.

Wow.

First I was like, "Where is he going with this George Brett story?"

But you really tied it together really nicely.

Yeah. It's what I call an LBA -- a Load-Bearing Anecdote.

I thought you hated your father.

Oh, I do. I did.

He treated me and my sister like we were an old dirty napkin

that you'd use to pick up a piece of dog shit

by the side of the road.

But you know, he's gone, so time to move on.

This is more emotional maturity than I'd expect from you.

I'm in a pretty good place, Charles.

I mean, not in terms of my career or my love life

or the frequency of my bowel movements.

But I've made peace with my past.

You know, seeing Lucy last year, that taught me

that your past can only hurt you if you let it.

This eulogy, this is, uh -- It's my opportunity

to show my family just exactly how much I have matured.

We have a game in two hours.

Shit. Well, better perk up then, huh?

Hey, you know, if the funeral is on Monday,

you're gonna have to miss a game.

And Raj is gonna have to replace you.

Really? Well, what can I say?

Some things are just a little bit more important than baseball.

I'm...proud of you.

Is that a binder full of eulogies?

Oh, yes, Charles. Part of my job as a seasoned orator

is to be able to speak eloquently about the dead

on a moment's notice.

You have one written about me?

Mm. Yes, I do.

This is beautiful.

Why don't you say any of this to my face?

Well, for the dead, I have poetry, Charles.

For the living, my sincerest apologies.

Well, thank you for the ride from the airport, my friend.

So, how much do you make?

How much do I make?

I'm doing all right lately. Why?

So, $1,000 is, like, nothing to you?

Do you need $1,000? Is that it?

I wouldn't turn it down.

You know, son, I'm not sure

this is the way you're supposed to treat family.

You don't have to give it to me...

if you know my first name.

Ah, shit, you told it to me, too, didn't ya?

Goddamn it.

What is your first name, anyway?

It's Jim. I'm named after you.

Good God.

Here, there's -- That's $1,100.

Why don't we just call it even?

Hello?

Is that my brother?

Yeah.

Hey, Jean.

What the hell are you doing here?

Well, you know, great to see you, too.

I told you Dad died out of respect.

I didn't think you'd actually have the balls

to come into this house.Don't get upset, all right?

I'm not here to make a scene, I promise.

I let go of my anger at Dad a long time ago.

I -- You know, I-I've put the past behind me, Jean.

Yeah? Well, I haven't.

Your meltdown made me a laughingstock,

brought shame to the Brockmire name.

I'm sorry I brought shame to House Brockmire, Jean.

Boy, I didn't realize we were in Winterfell here.

I'm just glad my sons have my husband's name.

Isn't Norm's last name Glasscock?

Yeah.

My grandson Harry has a scar

where a bully threw a glass dildo at his head.

Do you know how hard it is

to find a glass dildo in the Ozarks?

The kid's full name is Harry Glasscock?

Yeah. And still,

his life is still better than if it were Harry Brockmire.

My only comfort is the Brockmire name dies with you.

Boy.

For a funeral, this is getting pretty dark.

No one asked you to come.

I have a right to be -- He's my father, too, okay?

And I seem to remember, back in the day, you people

were all over me when you wanted something,

like, uh, Royals tickets or bail money

or Dan Quisenberry-autographed cleats.

But as soon as my life went into the toilet,

y'all were nowhere to be found, huh?

You know, believe it or not, I was going through

quite a lot back then. Oh.

Could've used -- Yeah, could've used a little bit of support.

You were going through a lot? Yeah!

Norm has had prostate cancer twice.

My daughter abandoned my grandson on the doorstep.

And when Dad he got sick, he moved in here.

If you think he was an asshole when he was living,

he really kicked it up a notch when he was dying.

Plus...I'm a homosexual.

Holy shit, Jean.

I mean, I-I knew you were gay, I just --

I didn't know that you knew.

Of course I knew. What was I gonna do about it?

After a botched epidural on my third kid,

I lost all feeling in my vagina.

Plus, I'm a middle-aged woman living in the Ozarks.

Well, fair enough.

Looks like life dealt us both a pretty bad poker hand,

and, uh, it turns out we were playing UNO, huh?

The difference is I don't whine about it.

You know, of course life sucks. You just gotta put one foot in front of the other

and carry your burdens on your back until they crush you.

You don't get on a microphone and cry about it

like a little bitch.

Norm?

Will you get that?

Hey.

Jim?

Hey, Norm.

Why, I see, uh, he's still quite the chatty Cathy, huh?

Unlike some people, Norm doesn't talk

unless he has something to say.

He's a great man. He is my rock.

Norm, hon?

I love you... like the brother I never had.

Okay, I can see that this weekend's

turning into a series of body blows to ol' Jim.

So, uh, I'm gonna need biblical amounts of booze, Jean.

Not particular. Any of your grain-based alcohols

will do very nicely.

Um, scotch, whiskey, rye, bourbon, whatever.

Vodka?

How 'bout gin? I mean, it's primarily a berry.

This is a dry house.

What?

Mm-hmm.

Jean, matching drink for drink --

That's the only way we can tolerate each other's company.

I've been sober for 10 years.

Holy shit.

I mean, my favorite thing about you

is that you're a mildly amusing drunk.

Hey, these are for the invitedguests.

Just stay out of the way

and try not to make an ass out of yourself.

Thank you, baby, for coming. Thank you so much.

Hey, folks.

Come on, Dad, talk to me. Talk to me.

Come on.

Come on.

Oh, yes!

I knew you had a stash here somewhere. Ha!

Oh, rum Goddamn it.

Still drinking sugar alcohol like a child.

Oh!

Oh, God.

Mm!

It's not good, Charles.

I made a tremendous mistake coming here.

My entire family hates my guts.

Please tell me that Raj is doin' terribly.

Hey, just the ladies! Just the ladies!

Fellas, stop being so selfish.

Yeah, no. They're definitely not sparking to him.

Oh, thank God something good happened today.

Charles, I'm already down $1,100,

and there's nothing here to drink but rum.

This literally could not get any worse.

Okay, it just got significantly worse, Charles.

Lucy just got here! Lucy is here!

Holy shit!

Okay, you can do this.

The past can only hurt you if you let it.

Okay.

All right, thank you, Charles. That helped a lot.

Uh, I love you, Charles.

Really? You're gonna leave me hanging?

You're more than just a boss to me.

I'll take it, but you done me dirty, Charles.

Raj: All right, here we go. Three, two, one!

Uh what the hell are you doing here?

I have a Google alert on my phone

for the phrase "Jim Brockmire dead."

My God. Charles has one of those, too.

When I found it was your father, I still wanted to come.

I remember how difficult your relationship was.

Here's the thing, Lucy.

These people are already treating me

like I'm some kind of a child molester.

Now, you being here, huh, is only gonna make that worse.

It doesn't matter what they think.

Jim, I wanted to be here for you.

Okay, well, be here for me here, all right?

And I'm gonna be -- I'll be in there.

Jim Brockmire!

Yeah. Hey, friend, how are you doin'?

Are you one of Dad's cousins?

Oh, no. Never met the man.

Just wanted to take a picture with the freakshow.

Great. Nice to meet you.

Harlot want a cracker?

No, thank you.

I can give it to you in a to-go bag.

Hey.

Oh, hey.

Folks are, uh, being pretty hard on you, huh?

People here don't get my way of life.

Hey, you didn't fly all the way back here

just for this, did you?Well, yeah.

Why, Lucy I don't know

that I would've done the same thing for you.

You didn't. Mom died six years ago.

Dad, five.

I'm so sorry. God, I always liked your folks, too.

Hey, did my public rant and, uh, meltdown about you --

Was that very upsetting for them?

It was tough for a while.

I'm sorry about that, too. Boy, I never meant to hurt them.

Just you.

I know.

You know, it got better before they were gone.

They finally learned to accept me as I am.

Well, I guess in a way,

I kind of brought y'all closer together, then, huh?

No, Jim. That's insane.

You are not the hero of this story.

My parents are.

Well...it's good to see you, Lucy.

That sounded strange the second it came out of my mouth.

How can I help you through this?

I'm -- I'm fine, really.

I'm just here to give my father a decent eulogy, you know,

just let everybody know that I accept him

for who he was, warts and all.

Jim, that's really beautiful.

It's so great to know that, even after everything he did,

today will be all about forgiveness.

Jean: All right, let's get this asshole in the ground!

Come on.

Oh, boy.

So many feelings, Goddamn it.

Daddy.

What are you doing?

I'm just saying goodbye, Jean.

That's not him.

I-I know that his soul no longer, you know,

technically inhabits his body, but --

No, that's not him.

Dad's in the casket over there.

What? Who the hell is this?

I have no idea. Ugh!! Got --

Got dead-guy makeup in my mouth!

Jesus Christ! God!

Ugh!

Is that him?

W What, did he die in a river?

No. This is what happens when you drink yourself to death.

All right, message received.

Stay away from rum.

My God.

Okay, it's time.

Well, um, are you gonna speak first, or, uh, should I?

No. No one but the preacher is speaking.

What do you mean?

I mean, we're having the funeral because that's what you do.

Don't make this more than it is.

Jean, what do you mean, "more than it is"?

No, I worked hard on this eulogy.

I got a tight 25 minutes here.

I mean, I guess if I lose the George Brett fishing anecdote,

I could drop maybe three minutes.

But, uh, no, that sets up all of act three.

No, I take it back. I cannot cut anything.

In fact, with laughter and applause, you know,

it's probably gonna balloon up to about 30 minutes.

You haven't changed at all. I knew you'd end up

trying to make today about yourself.

Just keep your mouth shut.

Let's get this over with.

With any luck, we can make it to Fuddruckers

before the lunch special ends. Wait, Jean.

Why won't you let me just honor our father?

Because he doesn't deserve it!

You wanna say something about Dad,

maybe you should see what he said about you first.

What do you mean?

This is Dad's goodbye letter to you.

I wasn't gonna deliver it because I wanted to protect you.

Mine was horrible, and I was his favorite.

But if you still want to "honor" him after you've read this,

knock yourself out.

"Dear Fuck Face.

I never thought I could hate a child, until I met you."

It gets worse from there.

Oh!

Oh!

We will all miss Jim Brockmire, Sr. --

husband, father, employee,

a man observed by all around him.

Born many years ago...

I'm sure it's not that bad. Let me see it.

Oh, my God.

I can't even believe -- It's so toxic!

Well, welcome to my childhood.

Jim, do not look at this again. Do not even hold it. I know.

I want to stare into the sun of his cruelty

till it is burned into my frontal lobe, okay?

I will never, ever again

let time soften my memory of that man.

Jim...

Can you believe I wanted to give him a nice eulogy?

I oughta burn his casket down to ashes, is what I should do.

Not literally.

Jim Brockmire...

What do you think that is, uh, teak?

Jim enjoyed the daily things.

Jim, you have a choice.

You could look at the positive --

Even though it wasn't a lovefest,

you reconnected with your sister.

Plus, you and I are in a better place.

So, you can focus on that.

Or you could focus on the negative,

go up there, shit all over your father,

and accomplish absolutely nothing

except making everything more painful than it already is.

You're absolutely right.

Jim most assuredly --

Guess I should've given him a third option.

Yet, here we are, just the same, uh, to pay --

Bringing in a closer, Preach. You can hit the showers.

You're relieved, seriously.

Thank you.

I'm sorry, but, um,

if we're gonna say goodbye to Dad here today,

I just thought, uh, that somebody should get up here

and utter something that at least resembled the truth.

I mean, no offense, Preach, but that was some straight-up

zero-calorie baby food you were spooning out there.

I have no positive memories of my father.

Seriously, not one.

He wasn't so much a dad as he was just this --

this angry creep who would stalk around the house

on evenings and weekends.

So he tried to find some peace every day

during what he called "Tiki Time."

Tiki Time was when he'd go out to this old bamboo bar

that he had constructed out in the garage,

and he would throw back Mai Tais out there.

Now, we never were allowed to disturb him then

because, as Dad liked to put it, Tiki Time was paradise.

But one night, I desecrated Tiki Time

when I went out there to tell him that he had forgotten

to feed us kids dinner that night.

So, he stormed back into the house,

and he nuked up some fish sticks

till they were just hotter than the sun,

and then screamed into our faces

when we wanted to wait for them to cool down.

I don't remember anything after that

except for, well, waking up in the emergency room,

where Jean and I had, uh, third-degree burns.

I guess things might've been easier if Mom had stuck around,

but, you know, I never blamed her leaving.

Hell, I ran away the first chance that I got,

uh, which left my sister, Jean, at home holding the bag.

And by "bag," of course, I am referring to shithead down there.

Somehow though, Jean,

y-you came out of that in better shape than I did.

I don't know how you did that.

I guess it's 'cause you were wise enough

to surround yourself with a family of your own.

I mean, don't get me wrong.

I wouldn't trade places with you if you put a shotgun in my mouth,

but, uh, no, I still envy you all the same.

And you were right. You were right. I have not changed.

I managed to make this moment all about myself, didn't I?

But what can I say? I'm not over my past, obviously,

and still quite trapped by it.

But, you know, very difficult for scars to heal

when the knife's still stickin' out of the wound there, huh?

That past isn't really the past, anyway, is it?

I mean, is it? Nobody changes.

Nobody actually matures. I mean, uh, he didn't.

He remained a monster till the day he died.

And now he even looks like one.

Anywhoodles, Dad's gone.

I guess now it really is Tiki Time, huh?

Drink up.

I went with the second option there.

Okay, all right.

Thank you, Lucy. That --

Boy, it's so weird where we're in a place where that actually --

That just gave me some comfort.

I still feel, uh, pretty awful, though.

Would you feel better if we had sex?

No. What? Are you just -- Are you horny all of the time?

Yes. It's my defining characteristic.

As much as I'd love to show you everything

that I learned in the knock shops of Manila,

my dad's letter is still kind of stripping the paint

right off of my insides.

So, I-I'm just not sure I could handle

whatever emotional minefield that sex with you might be.

Fair enough.

Oh, Jim.

Take care of yourself.

You, too.

Hey! You must be Harry, huh?

I-I'm your uncle, Jim.

Look, son, I know life's been very difficult for ya

growing up Glasscock and everything.

But, uh, believe it or not, it's only gonna get worse.

See, in life, you can't ever really stop the pain.

The best you can hope to do is just limit it a little bit.

So, for crying out loud, don't be a Harry.

Be a Harold, all right? Okay?

Be a Harold!

Can I get a hug, Jean?

No.