Nip/Tuck s01e10 Episode Script

Previously on Nip / Tuck: I'm telling you, man-to-man.
I'm having an affair.
You cheated on Mom? I won't see her again.
The cancer's metastasized in my lymph nodes.
It's already stage four.
Marker.
Thank you.
Scalpel.
Thumb.
Lawnmower? Garbage disposal.
Guy's a plumber.
The power surged, and he's picking his nose with his elbow.
- No room at the ER? - HospitaI phobic.
He caught a nasty Staph infection at County last year.
I took the cold call an hour ago.
I am happy to take the cold, hard cash.
Maestro, some music, please.
- How much have you lost? -15 pounds.
I make ketosis as we speak.
Atkins.
Would you hens quit squawking? I'm trying to concentrate here.
You better concentrate harder, Christian.
You attached those wrong.
Oh, my God.
You put the index finger where the middle finger should be.
- No, I didn't.
- Yes, you did, Christian.
He's a two-sy.
Look at his other hand.
The middle finger is longer than the index finger.
- Liz, didn't you just get LASIK surgery? - Two weeks ago.
Go back.
It didn't work.
Okay, this is bullshit.
I'm getting Sean.
Hey, Dad, here to pull over the car? - Oh, Christ.
- What? Liz is right.
You attached these fingers incorrectly.
- It's a matter of millimeters.
I don't see- - That's the problem.
Not only do you not see the error, but you'd rather argue than correct it.
- I'll fix it.
- No, I'll fix it.
You can assist.
It's my patient.
Who's already been under anesthesia for four hours.
You want to aim for eight or do you want to swallow your pride and let me knock it out in six? - Well, at least he got the thumb right.
-15 blade.
Better hope your assignment at recertification isn't digit microsurgery.
You had a rough month.
The priest, the Kimber incident.
You just need a vacation.
Don't make excuses for me, Sean.
Let's just finally say out loud what we've both known for years.
I am a goddamn terrible surgeon.
Why do you even want to be my partner, anyway? I'm proud of the business we started from nothing.
We're self-made men.
You said it best a couple of months ago.
We fit.
- You're the planner- - And you're the talent.
I've slid by on your skill for years, and we both know it.
I was in the bottom 10°% of our class, Sean.
The only reason I passed was because you tutored me and wouldn't give up untiI I'd learned it.
But I never became it.
I'm a mimic.
I'm a myna bird with a scalpel.
No, worse.
I'm Bobolit in better suits.
I don't exceI at anything.
Relationships, my profession.
All I have to offer is a great smile and a convincing line of bullshit.
I've been going over your Q-TWiST.
My what? Your Q-TWiST.
It's a statisticaI method that provides a measure of survivaI time weighted by a patient's quality of life.
Quality time without symptoms and toxicity: Q-TWiST.
- That's very clever.
- And useful.
It's how we determine if an alternative course of treatment is warranted.
If? There's no "if" unless it's followed by a "then.
" If tamoxifen doesn't work, then we try something else.
ExperimentaI trials, clinicaI trials.
I'm a doctor.
I'll pull whatever strings I need to.
Dr.
McNamara, when you compare the patient's overall survival with his or her clinicaI health state- The patient's name is Megan.
Yes, and according to Megan's Q-TWiST- She'd be better off dead.
Megan, there are always ways of fighting.
It's entirely up to you to decide whether the benefits outweigh the costs.
- Could you give us a minute, please? - Certainly.
We should go somewhere and talk about options.
What we want to do.
I can't, Sean.
I'm exhausted.
All the chemo that I didn't want to have again because I knew it wouldn't work this time.
Okay.
We'll do it tonight, after you rest.
We made plans to celebrate your last treatment.
Now we'll celebrate you finding a new doctor.
Mr.
Charles, tell me what you don't like about yourself.
Let me see.
I should be more patient with my grandkids and I shouldn't take my golf game so damn seriously.
Darling, no need for the windy analysis.
Dr.
Troy just wants to make sure that you want a scrotaI lift.
That you're not doing it just for me.
Well, sure.
It's never too late to look good.
I wouldn't mind having the cousin spruced up and lifted off the floor.
Isn't he just a doll? Now, Dr.
Troy, write this down.
We need to reserve both beds in the recovery suite.
Why? Because I will be recuperating as well.
From my vaginaI rejuvenation.
You see, Dr.
Troy, just because Sumner and I are going to grow old together doesn't mean we have to look old.
Strip us naked, it's like The Pit and the Pendulum.
We just want to freshen up before the wedding.
You two are engaged? Congratulations.
I've never been wealthier.
On every level.
And as you know, Dr.
Troy "free" is a word that us wealthy folks just love.
Mrs.
Grubman, we are obligated and, in fact, delighted to do all of your cosmetic surgeries.
But it does not include operations for your friends and fiancé.
Yes, it does, Dr.
Troy.
And don't think for one minute I can't call up my lawyer next week or even a year from now and say: "The veils have fallen from my eyes.
"I now see that we have to sue McNamara / Troy "for every cent they have.
" Isn't she a tiger? Your fiancée is very persuasive.
Which rhymes with "invasive" which I'm sorry to say, is a risk I can't run with you again.
- Sorry? - Of course.
You can lift Sumner's testicles.
I read the literature on that.
It's a simple tuck.
But I'm going to need Dr.
McNamara to perform my operation.
At least that way I'll have some confidence that I won't wake up with a cautery tip lodged in my uterus.
That check? Nonrefundable.
Even if you faiI recertification.
Also, you should be aware that if you do fail you have to block out another week of afternoons to take the test again and you can't practice untiI you pass it.
Thanks.
Don't forget your scrubs and your instruments.
Recertifications every 10 years? Boys, we have got to stop meeting like this.
- I haven't seen you two since- - Since graduation.
My, how time and hairlines fly.
Actually, that's not true, Christian.
You've seen him severaI times.
The billboards? Featuring you and two strippers with Hindenburgs in their chests.
Classy stuff, Merrill.
You're really upgrading the image of an already beleaguered profession.
- Congratulations.
- Sean! Retract those claws.
No, wait, you can't.
Now that I'm stealing all your business, you need them to scratch out a living.
A warning: I may be forced to tell the teacher if I catch you cheating off my paper.
Or should I say head? Doctors, please introduce yourselves to your patients.
Great.
I get the fat chick.
From experience, we know that many of you find operating on a cadaver's head to be an impersonal, somewhat unsettling experience.
We want to help with that.
So, at this time, if you wish please feeI free to examine your cadaver's personaI biography.
- Yes? - I'd like another head, please.
- Why? - I have large hands and as you can see, this is the head of a small person.
I won't be able to properly manipulate the cranium, see? Dr.
Troy, we only have a certain number of bodies donated to science.
To match a cadaver's head with every surgeon was no small feat.
We had to put out a call to four counties to make sure we had enough.
I'm sorry, but you're just gonna have to make this work.
Ladies and gentlemen, the first operation for Boards is the rhinoplasty.
You have one hour.
Begin.
If you'd rather not discuss this now, we don't have to.
I'm just saying I went to med school with this guy in Atlanta who's been combining Insulin Potentiation Therapy with this new drug, Ukrain.
Is that Debussy or Scriabin? I always get them confused.
I wasn't listening.
I know.
Close your eyes.
I used to play that when I was a little girl.
It's beautiful, Megan.
It's funny.
I hardly ever pay attention to the music in a restaurant.
You haven't been on a lot of bad dates.
I've heard some entire symphonies during some awkward silences.
More? No, but feeI free.
- Excuse me, are you done? - Yes, thank you.
You sure? You barely ate.
- I could leave it here if you like.
- No, it's fine.
You want to take it home? You may get hungry later.
Shit.
- Sorry.
- Please don't worry about it.
We'll get this taken care of.
I shouldn't have made you come.
You said you were tired.
Are you kidding? I've been trying to get a reservation at this place for years.
That'll teach them, damn snobs.
At least it was romantic.
Things will get better.
You know, I don't think so.
And neither do you.
My body is expressing its opinion very clearly.
Uncontrollable vomiting loss of all my senses diminished lucidity a dramatic increase in pain and a pretty excruciating death.
And I will be there with you every step of the way.
That's going to make it pretty hard to keep this thing under wraps.
If you're rushing to my sickbed, Julia's likely to notice after a while.
I don't want a long-drawn-out death, Sean.
I really don't.
I want a quick and peacefuI one that's under my control.
That's what we all hope for.
I'm gonna do more than hope.
Can you believe that bitch? Insinuating I'm a terrible surgeon while she's blackmailing me.
You're the one who left the cautery tip in her gut, not me.
I've done some of my best work on the Grim Reaper there.
If it weren't for me, she'd look her age.
Screw her.
I may slip up now and then, but I am not devoid of skill.
You may be the carpenter, but I am the construction worker around here.
I lay the foundations that you refine.
- That's right.
- I'm gonna pass the recertification.
I'm gonna work harder, be less complacent.
I'm gonna apply myself and not coast by anymore on slick.
We have to switch heads.
What? I cannot pass with these big mitts and that midget head.
You operated on a cadaver head in college.
You passed.
In college, they let you slide by on youth and hubris.
They're tougher on you in the recertification.
Let's face it.
I can do a nose job, and certainly a brilliant tit job but you're the craniofaciaI man, not me.
You do most of our face-lifts.
It's not my specialty.
Whenever I have done them, you've been there to supervise.
What am I gonna do? I can't fail.
I can't have Bobolit laugh at me, and I can't let Grubman be right.
Practice makes perfect.
Practice on what, Sean, Mr.
Potato Head? It's not like I can brush up on a fetaI pig.
There is only one thing to do.
Kill Grubman and practice on her.
What did your head die of? Heart attack.
Yours? Suicide.
You believe in that? I think if a person is in a great deaI of pain physicaI or spiritual, and they've exhausted all their options I wouldn't judge them for it.
I'd say a silent prayer and hope they found the peace life couldn't give them.
I'll assist with the beef curtains and then we'll wheeI in ColoneI Sanders.
Forgive me? You did save me from a negligence suit.
Why not? The very fact that we can continue to coexist in semi-hatred I am bathed in relief.
Anything interesting? Slow news day.
More scandaI in the police department.
A little old homeless lady died.
Little? A Jane Doe found unclaimed and dead underneath a palm at the beach.
- FouI play? - NaturaI causes.
They think she went to sit down to rest, and kicked.
Poor thing, she had no ID.
They suspect she was around 80 years old.
Weight? Sad.
If you want to see dead people, you check with me first.
Coroner's Office, Christian Troy.
I'm here to investigate a certain South Beach Jane Doe.
ID? - I must've left it at home.
- Shame.
Look, I'm here on officiaI business.
It's officiaI business.
That's different.
What other business would I have with a corpse? Monkey business.
Two months ago, I walked in on a guy getting his freak on with his dead ex.
Wanted to do it once without her criticizing.
I don't usually get criticized.
I bet you don't.
Not looking like that.
Gucci suit Rolex.
One fancy coroner.
I'm guessing you're either moonlighting as an investment banker or you're stealing this shit off of dead people.
Now you better tell me what you want and why you're here or else I'm going to tell security that we have a problem with a male modeI necrophiliac.
I like your cologne.
- Lagerfeld? - Dialing.
All right.
I'm a plastic surgeon.
Honey, it's way too late for these people.
I just need the right kind of head.
Okay.
To practice on.
I'm taking an exam, and if I fail, I'm screwed.
Shit.
You want to practice on Jane Doe? I'm all about a trade.
I could give you some new pecs.
Ain't nothing wrong with my pecs.
Worked my ass off for these pecs.
I never liked my chin.
You've got one hour.
I'll come by next week to schedule.
It sucks getting old, doesn't it? No pictures of me? I'll have memories of you and you'll have memories of me.
We can make more memories.
We could go to Paris.
I always wanted to go to Paris.
But if you can only walk for a few minutes and you can't drink all that wine and you can't have sex all you've got is the architecture.
And I'm not so much for architecture.
But you like this moteI by the sea.
No.
I like this room.
This room was the last place I felt happy.
This room is the last place I felt hope.
And you heard what the doctor said, Sean.
There is no more hope.
All I can hope for is dignity and a nice sunset tomorrow.
- I won't let you do this.
- It's not your decision.
- I just found you! - And now you have to let me go.
I don't fear death, Sean.
I fear the prolongment of it.
I can't condone this or help you, Megan.
This is rash.
This is right.
It's like when you're a kid at an amusement park and you're having the greatest time.
Ice cream and Ferris wheels and stuffed animals.
And it gets late, and you beg your parents to let you stay.
You'll be so good, you'll do anything they ask.
So they say, "Okay.
" Only now the steps are harder to climb.
You have a tummy ache and you're too tired to wait in line for the rides anymore.
And suddenly you begin to cry.
It's no fun anymore.
And you hear your mom's voice saying: "Megan, when are you gonna learn enough's enough?" We will start with the bicoronaI incision.
And begin.
- Is there a problem, Dr.
Troy? - No, Dr.
Hiroshi.
No problem at all.
I hope you finish better than you begin.
Can you do my eyes next? - I hate these crow's feet.
- I'm under stress.
What's new? You're not real.
This is my subconscious talking.
Always with the intellectual.
That mindset comes in handy, doesn't it, Sean? When you're operating on the dead or you're trying to talk your girlfriend out of killing herself.
Shut up! You mind if I talk while you work? You're not real.
Death is an illusion, Sean.
It's love that remains.
You should know that your love for Megan will remain even when she's gone.
And so, for that matter, will your love for Julia when she finds out that you helped your girlfriend kill herself and she divorces you.
She won't find out.
- I'm not killing anybody.
- Fine.
We don't have to talk about it.
You just concentrate on your work, dear.
- I'm gonna lift the brow now.
- Love it! Lift away! Cancer? Like Megan's? No, darling.
I got this from the vomiting.
When I got so bored with my life I decided to end it all.
I gathered up all of mother's little helpers and washed them down with a tumbler of martinis.
But what they don't tell you is that pills and alcohol almost always cause you to retch uncontrollably.
My throat just got ruined.
- Help Megan, Sean.
- No.
Give her a nice glass of cold milk to coat her stomach so she won't humiliate herself like she did in the restaurant.
- And don't forget the plastic bag.
- No.
It's a necessary evil when you're committing suicide.
Pills and alcohoI alone are an insufferably long, slow death.
But with a bag over your head after you've taken the pills Heaven! The lack of oxygen makes you see colors.
Just beautiful, glorious vibrant colors.
And you go off so peacefully like you were in a dream.
That's what you have to do.
Bag her.
Time.
Goodbye, Scarecrow.
I'm going to miss you most of all.
Do me a favor.
Anything.
Remember the beginning and middle of me with you.
Not the end.
Thank you.
I'm gonna put it on now.
- What did she die of? - Cancer.
Did the implants bring it on again or- Statistically, the odds are low.
You never know.
I informed her of the risks.
Was her husband with her? They were separated.
I don't know.
Your suit's been pressed.
I'll pick up your shirt from the dry cleaner's.
Thanks.
I'd like to come with you.
You didn't know her.
You did.
And you're obviously very affected by this patient.
And I wanna support you.
You're not responsible, Sean, statistics or not.
I'll clear my afternoon tomorrow.
I don't want you to go alone.
Very nice, Dr.
Troy.
Pass.
Tick-tock, Sean.
When your time's up, it's up.
Me, Megan.
Don't flunk out, boy wonder.
Be quiet.
I have to concentrate.
You got rid of Megan's pain.
Now what about yours? Please.
What about your relationship with your wife? She's coming to the funeral.
You couldn't say no.
She might suspect something if you did.
Isn't that just a pip? And aren't you just so weak for lying? You're cruel.
I'm only telling you what you already know.
But let's be honest, shall we? Yeah, sure, I know you're sad but aren't you just also a little bit happy? I'll sew your mouth shut, I swear to God.
Aren't you just a little bit thrilled you got away with it? I didn't kill her.
You got away with the affair.
She was right when she called you Scarecrow.
You need a brain.
Correct me if I'm wrong but you could have your medicaI license revoked if someone saw you at the scene of the crime.
No one saw me.
Housekeeping found her body this morning.
Of course.
All those moving letters, so no questions asked.
She was sick.
It was her time.
And now, conveniently, your wife doesn't have to know.
- I love it.
- You shut up.
- There's no trace of an affair.
- I said shut up! But the irony of it.
Instead of helping to mask your pain the affair with Megan O'Hara only made it worse.
Ain't life a goddamn kick in the pants? Shut up! - Sean! - Leave me alone.
- What the hell happened in there? - She's dead! - I would hope so! - Megan.
She killed herself.
We were having an affair the cancer came back, and she took her life.
- It's going to be okay.
- No, it's not.
Don't you get it? You're not the failure, Christian.
I am.
I'm the one who lied and cheated.
I'm the one who let her die! I should have been strong, but I'm weak.
You can't just leave.
You have to go back in there and take the test! Screw the test! I don't care! I don't care about anything.
My wife was crazy.
That's why I loved her.
She pushed me to try things I was afraid of.
She had no fear.
On my first date with Megan, she picked me up in her ugly lime-green MG and told me we were going hang-gliding.
I thought she was kidding.
She wasn't.
I never won a single game of Scrabble with my wife.
She taught me the difference between a pawpaw and a butterfly weed.
On our chalkboard in the kitchen every day she wrote a new word she thought I should know.
She forced me to be better.
That's what marriage is.
For better, for worse.
Megan, you cheated me.
You promised me for better, for worse, remember? I deserved to go through the worst with you.
I wanted to.
It was my place.
It's okay.
Megan asked that her ashes be scattered into the ocean.
That way her spirit could be forever free.
She wanted those she loved to help release a part of her.
We'd like to do that now.
I'm gonna make some coffee.
You want some? No, thanks.
Do you want me to order out? I'm not that hungry.
Did you have an affair with her? Yes.
Please don't touch me.
When did it start? After you lost the baby.
Right around the time you started sleeping with Jude.
I didn't sleep with Jude.
Julia, don't embarrass yourself with a lie.
Like you have for months? I found the picture in your book.
- You went through my things? - Yes.
And I found the half-naked picture of a boy only a few years older than your son.
And in that second, I hated you for what you'd done.
And I knew.
Then I turned to someone who could comfort me.
And she did.
I didn't sleep with him.
That's not true.
I know- Was I tempted? Did I want to? Yes, I did, I'm ashamed to say.
But I always wanted you more.
So when it came to it, I did nothing.
Did you love her? Yes.
Do you love me anymore? More than you'll ever know.
God! And this is how you show it, Sean? This is how you reward my patience and my fidelity and the sanctity of our children and our marriage by screwing another woman? God! Even your infidelity is passive-aggressive.
- How's that? - Because she's dead, Sean.
And she died a horrible death.
And I can't hate a woman who died of cancer at 36.
Hit me.
You want to.
Do it.
I deserve it! There's not a cup handy.
Just hit me! I don't have the energy to hit you, Sean.
Or to hate you or to love you anymore.
But you owe me this.
It's all I want to know.
What did she give you that I couldn't? She saw the good in me, Julia.
She saw the potential, the hope.
Every time you look at me I see it in your eyes.
All I see staring back at me is regret.
Isn't that true? Yes.
For both of us.
We were so happy, Sean.
We could do anything together.
The night we got married I couldn't sleep.
All I did was stare at you.
I was so in love with you.
It was so full of promise.
And now it's all gone, and it's all turned to ash just like Megan.
And it breaks my heart.
I can't lose you, too, Julia.
We lost each other a long time ago, Sean.
I'm so sorry.