John from Cincinnati s01e01 Episode Script

The end is near.
Amen, my brother.
Those illegals act like it's just another day at the beach.
You know Mitch Yost? Mitch Yost should get back in the game.
Couple of fun ones, eh, Mitch? You should get back in the game, Mitch Yost.
You should mind your own business.
Go fuck yourself.
In case you're not crazy, I go back 20 years with this family.
The deal with the kid is in the works, so stay away, or whoever's paying you better have you on a good health plan.
Sammy, Sammy, - Tell Shaun he needs to stop by the shop.
- Okay.
Don't forget.
Give you a free bar of wax.
I got nothing to do with that space cadet back there.
I would never disrespect your retirement.
God damn it! A syringe.
Maybe it's one of Butchie's.
What's happened with Butchie is one of the biggest regrets of my life.
Yeah, well, now he's proven to the world he can fuck up just fine without a sponsor.
Am I gonna see you at Huntington this afternoon? Why would you see me at Huntington? Nobody's seen me there in 20 years.
Your grandson's breaking his cherry.
I just assumed you knew.
Well, I didn't.
And if it's for a competition, don't assume you're gonna see him.
And for sure don't expect to get your fangs in his neck like you did in Butchie's.
He sent this to me.
"Sponsor me.
" Fucking Butchie wants to get Shaun signed? - Shaun sent it.
- Jesus Christ what? He's 13, Mitch.
Yeah, you sign eight-year-olds.
Look, this is gonna happen.
He wants to get signed, and he's the real deal, and he's a Yost.
Trust the devil you know, Mitch.
So fast after nothing so long.
I know the WMD fiasco in Iraq is fresh in both our memories, Ramon.
There were none.
And I may be as wrong in my intelligence estimate as the CIA, but the man who just purchased this motel doesn't strike me as the most pleasant person.
Motherfucker! Butchie probably better split.
Certainly he can't stay on the present terms.
- As a deadbeat.
- Say he paid you $200.
Like that's gonna happen.
We can tell the new owner you just discovered Butchie squatting.
What about the six months' worth of garbage in his room? Butchie Yost revolutionized surfing, Ramon.
He changed the entire idea of it.
This place was supposed to stay vacant, and I think you're a little old for hero worship.
- Ladies.
- Butchie, a moment.
Was the brigade out today? We were, yes the Association of Surfing Attorneys.
Butchie, the motel just sold.
It's out of receivership.
I have to take a horrendous dump, Ramon, and after that, I wanna hear every fucking detail.
This is very important, Butchie.
Can I show you something? I settled Yost's injury claim with the city yesterday, Ramon.
When he passed out under the beach sweeper? - He got $2,300.
- Yesterday.
If that's already gone, I'm good for the $200.
I'm gonna get the truck.
You put these on, and we neaten up for the new owner.
We do this fast.
I'll be back.
Hey, frat boy.
Drove down to T.
J.
To see the donkey show, did you? Some dickhead spike your drink? 50 bucks, I drop you anywhere within Imperial Beach.
Turn out your pockets.
Turn our your pockets.
$50 on the nose.
Let's go before the migra jumps our shit.
God damn taco benders just ran past me like I was Homeland Security.
Too goddamn ignorant to realize who wants to help them.
Some things I know, and some things I don't.
Spare me the babe- in-the-woods routine.
You just paid to see a donkey fuck a woman.
No, I'm disappointed, Freddie, out here in California.
I'm out the $2,300.
I got beat on the buy.
Freddie, I cannot make myself believe that that gland case and his fucking ice-cream truck had the balls to fucking screw me on an ounce without your fucking say-so.
Young Mr.
Yost.
Butchie's son.
He shreds.
Butchie's parents have custody.
Probation situation.
I took care of it.
God damn it! I'll come back at you, Freddie.
It's not like I got too much downside.
All right, and you better make it fucking right.
- I'm not done with my dump yet, Ramon.
- It's me, Dad.
Hey, Shaunie.
How's it going, buddy? Come on in.
Sorry about the fucking mess.
The 'grom that I paid to clean up got hit by a fucking van.
- How long ago? - Yeah I gotta get a replacement, huh? - What's going on? How's sixth grade? - It was good.
Yeah? You want something to drink? Tap water ain't fatal.
I'm supposed to surf the event at Huntington this afternoon.
Your grandfather sign off on that? Gram did.
That sounds more like it.
- Think you might want to go? - No, fuck, not if you want them to let you on the water.
- I'm fucking barred up there, buddy.
- From watching, too? What the fuck do I wanna go up there for, Shaunie, okay? Those things are fucking bullshit.
Okay.
Not for you.
Okay, you know, I mean, I don't give a fuck if you want to.
Okay.
It's not that I don't give a fuck, okay? When did I ever tell you not to do something, - is all I'm trying to say, okay? - Okay.
Everyone says you're great.
You'll probably fucking win the thing and get sponsored - and all that shit.
- Anyways.
Just don't pull your left nut out.
Like you did your last event? Yeah, it tends to get you D.
Q.
Ed.
How's it going? Butchie wasn't that good when he was 13.
Were you? You take that footage? Some.
Some Shaunie collected from his friends.
- He put it together.
- But you sent it to Linc.
I sent one to everyone Shaun thought might want to sponsor him.
Including the bastard who helped turn Butchie into the ditch-sleeping doper shitbird he is today.
- Shaun doesn't have to be Butchie.
- Yeah, but you're still you, aren't you, Cissy? You entered Shaun in the contest today.
He entered.
I signed the form as guardian.
- Hi, Gram, Gramps.
- Hey.
Sammy said you wanted me to stop by.
- How'd that board feel? - It was good.
Not too stiff? We're worried about those rails.
- Hey, Shaun.
- Hi, Kai.
Morning.
Go in the back.
- Go in the back.
- Come on, let's go in the back, Shaun.
I guess I'm supposed to be there by 11:00.
You are not taking him up to that contest today.
And any permissions you've signed, I'll drive up there and I'll rescind.
I'll rip up the waivers.
I'll bury any money-bitch would-be sponsor in a pit starting with Linc-fucking-Stark.
What happened to Butchie is not happening to Shaun.
I understand.
The kahuna has spoken.
And I got fucking cancer.
Right here in my brain.
Get to Bill's house, Shaunie.
Tell Bill I hoped he would drive you to your event.
- Could you call him? - You know how he is about the phone.
Here's your accident liability waiver.
I already mailed in your entry and your fee.
Don't show it to Bill until you get to the event.
Otherwise, he'll be worried about it all the way up.
Show it to him when you get to Huntington, when you're walking to the registration table.
But then you watch him give it to them.
Okay, Gram.
'Cause they have to get it from an adult.
Okay.
Then you put your jersey on, and you paddle out and you kick some ass.
You comfy cozy, sweet pea? Slip you a mickey and then forget to roll you typical beaner behavior.
Some thing I know, and some things I don't.
Tell me something you know.
The end is near.
Feel that way half the time myself.
Mitch Yost should get back in the game.
I don't know Mitch Yost.
I should have a good health plan, I see Mitch Yost again.
Butchie Yost I know.
Flops in that shithouse on 7th.
What do you want? What do you mean? Some things I know, and some things I don't.
I'll drop you at Butchie's.
He may know where Mitch is.
Get you your health coverage.
Then I'm gonna roll a fucking fat one.
How's it going, Bill? How are you? They're running the Mexican wrestling.
I'll tell you one thing: They're overexposing these masked midgets.
Grams asked me to ask you if you wouldn't mind driving me today.
No no no, not at all.
Don't tell Gramps about any of it, okay, Bill? You know, my neck is killing me.
Your fibromyalgia? You making fun of me? 'Cause that's a written diagnosis by a V.
A.
Physician.
What happened to Zippy? Oh my God.
- Is Zippy dead? - It's all right.
This happens.
This is something you learn to accept.
Zippy was a good bird.
That's right.
That's correct.
When you're older you'll understand.
- Should we bury him? - That's not for you.
You'll have more than one occasion later.
I got Twinkies around.
You want a Twinkie? I can help, Bill.
Let me help.
You don't hold on to a bird once it's passed.
This is something that you learn.
Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
He's alive! Well, this is this is something.
Zip, we thought you croaked.
Gimme a kiss Give the kid a kiss too, as long as you're being stupid.
Hey, Zippy.
I'll tell ya, I don't know anymore if I'm on foot or horseback or if a bird's alive or dead.
- He was dead, Bill.
- Obviously, he wasn't.
When you're older, you'll understand.
I saw him.
I'm losing my train of thought lately.
Everything else you'll understand more fully when you're grown.
That is sick.
What are you doing? Want to get fibromyalgia? It's cool.
Christ, Moke ordered a fish.
You kidding me? He's gonna sink that friggin' thing.
Why does what happened to Butchie make it fucked up to help Shaunie do what any 13-year-old would want to? He fucking forbids me to let Shaunie compete.
I'm not Mitch's wife, Cissy.
All the time you spend with Shaun You know Butchie better than anybody.
Or Shaun's guardian or Butchie's mother.
And he tells me he's got a brain tumor.
Mitch has got a brain tumor? Wouldn't put it past him, either, fucking jerk.
It beeped.
Leave a message Yeah, I know what to do at the beep.
Here's your fucking message, Freddie: In one more fucking hour someone hasn't shown up to get me right, you get hit in Hawaii by a law enforcement tsunami and your fucking ice-cream man goes over a cliff in his fucking truck! Looks like we got a full load.
You're really good at this.
I have office business, Ramon.
Have to go home and wash up before I conduct it.
The new owner takes possession at 3:00.
Mr.
Cunningham.
I'll be back then.
Don't forget: Bring the $200 with you.
Here's another one who has to change his ways.
Vietnam Joe.
The Snug Harbor's closed as a stop on his underground railroad.
That guy doesn't fit Joe's profile.
The Three Stooges.
I could eat a bowl of soup off the top of either of your heads.
Which room in the palace is Butchie Yost's? If he was here, he'd be in F.
Okay, you go over there, you knock on the door.
Show me.
Yeah.
You're on your own.
Ramon wants to talk to you, Joe.
Try to keep that short.
What do you want, Butchie Yost? I wanna see some dope come out of your pockets, or my $2,300.
Here I am, eyes to see the sunset loaded, and just flew off the handle with your people.
What a fucking jerk.
Let's go call the ice-cream man and tell him I'm sorry.
I'm coming in, Mitch.
The Grand Poobah's inner sanctum.
Holy Father, great Tao, fucking Dalai Lama.
Why would you think you've got brain cancer? I'm hallucinating.
You been getting high? No, it wasn't a hallucination.
It's not like acid.
You just said you were hallucinating.
- I used the wrong word.
- What's the right word, your sinuses are plugged? 'Cause that does point straight at brain cancer.
In the lot, after I surfed, I I was up in the air, is how it felt.
Half the time with ear infections I get dizzy like that.
- Go to see a doctor.
- If I've got a tumor, I don't want their machines getting ahold of me.
Welcome to the rest of our fucking lives! You surf when no one can see you, me especially.
Rest of the day you're in your clubhouse.
Next week or next year we get the call: Butchie's dead in some fucking dumpster.
But the breaking news today: Shaun doesn't get out either, 'cause big Mitch fucking forbids it.
Because 20 years ago his knee got a boo-boo.
A boo-boo they nearly amputated.
Suppose you do have a tumor.
Suppose you're fucking dying.
How are you gonna kill the time before you check out? What about the healing power of sex? Right.
You give me $2,300 and the ice-cream man says he doesn't know you.
Empty your pockets, bro, so we don't start not getting along.
All right, show me something with your name on it.
These fucking platinum cards got that rocket fuel don't they, John? Vroom vroom.
- Vroom.
- What were you up to, John, just before you came to see me? Was there a little bit of the wacky tabacky involved? - Does that begin to ring a bell? - Does it ring a bell? Where I'm going, John, is are you fucked up at the present moment? Speed, Freon, tire sealer, - the little green chunks from the cat litter? - Doesn't ring a bell.
Who I am rings a bell, right, John? You know I'm Butchie Yost.
Butchie Yost rings a bell.
All right, John, we'll work with what we got.
Now my conclusion, not confusing myself with Sherlock Holmes, is A: You're a little shy; You just broke your piggy bank or you have a few dollars in the family; and C: You're here to surf with The Beast.
I am here to surf with The Beast.
Butchie "The Beast" Yost bringing him out of semiretirement.
Bring Butchie out of semiretirement.
Learn from the best, fuck the rest.
- That costs top dollar.
- Top dollar rings a bell.
It wouldn't be the first time, John, that worried parents were part of the story.
How about worried doctors? Worried doctors aren't a part of the story.
- Or worried parents.
- Worried parents don't ring a bell, Butchie.
Of course, parts of my story you don't know either, right, John? I'm no open book to you, whatever bullshit you read in those fucking magazines.
Here's what we're gonna do: We're gonna take each other at face value, John, and get to know each other better as we go along.
Now money's gonna have to change hands between us, John.
You're gonna be spending some of that cash.
You got expenses, fees.
I need to know that you're down for that.
I'm down for that.
Let me hear it, John how big you are fucking down for it.
Hear it big, Butchie.
John and his cash and his plastic are down - with Butchie The Beast! - I'm down! Don't do that, John.
Okay, let's pick up our credit card, and let's be adult around our possessions.
Was Shaun really disappointed when you told him he couldn't go? He never shows what he's feeling.
Yeah, he plays it pretty close to the vest.
I think that's good.
Maybe we should get a camera.
Just to show it's not, if I feel it happening again, going up in the air.
I get it.
I'll pick you up one at Jenco.
I hope you're doodling, 'cause we know you can't write.
Urgent Care's down the street.
- Say hi to John, Kai.
- Hi, John.
- Hi, Kai.
- My student and main man.
We want an outit, nose to tail.
Full-goddamn-pop on every wetsuit and surfboard - we fucking-A decide to buy, right, John? - Fucking-A, right.
Full fucking quiver.
Special attention to the board shaped by the little lady here, meaning she will benefit from that rocket propellant in your fucking platinum card.
Maybe he just wants to start with one.
Hey, check out those boards, John.
Examine 'em closely while Kai and me have a talk.
Every surfer needs a backup dos minimum.
Dos minimum.
Wouldn't this be a day to write home about if I wasn't homeless and disowned? I finally get that injury settlement, and I invest in a lid, and that fucking Samoan sells me quinine.
Too bad you don't got malaria.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? - Where'd you come up with him? - He came up with me.
He knocked on my fucking door.
John Monad.
Sounds French.
What, the Dragon Lady call in sick? 'Cause she isn't.
She's taking fucking Shaunie to Huntington.
Is that right? Or maybe you already knew.
Shaun wanted to enter, Butchie.
He's been working on a "sponsor me" video for months.
Why don't you just enter him in a jerk off competition because he's been working his johnson in the bathroom? - I didn't enter him.
- You didn't tell me when I walked in here.
- It's your family.
- She signs your paycheck.
You haven't seen Shaun in six months, Butchie.
You have no fucking clue, Kai, how much time him and me spend together.
Yeah, right.
He's a liar.
Hey, fuck you, Kai.
I try to throw you some fucking business, and you put my balls in a vice? I don't need you to throw me any business.
Okay, sorry to fucking bother you.
Give my love to my mom.
- Come on, John.
- Bye, Kai.
Who does she think she fucking is? She's Kai, Butchie.
I signed over custody so I wouldn't louse that kid up.
Plus I had to to get fucking probation.
Where is my fucking phone? Some things I know, and some things I don't.
I don't suppose you have a phone, John, do you? Some things I know, and some things I don't.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Every time you wanna say, "Some things I know, and some things I don't," just say, "I don't know, Butchie," instead.
I don't know, Butchie, instead.
I wanna see where my fucking old man is in all this shit.
Where's Mitch "The Holy Man" Yost? I like Kai.
Yeah, you would, John.
You probably can fucking bone her if you try hard enough.
- I'll bone her.
- Yeah.
Might want to have to bust her jaw first so she'd shut the fuck up.
Hello.
Congratulations on being a fucking gutless cunt.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? It means you're a selfish fucking cocksucker, that's what.
What, you tired of no one's asking you, so you go ahead and okay for him? Maybe you wanna tell me what the fuck you're talking about.
Shaun in Huntington.
He's not going.
He's there then with you.
What's that, Dad? I can't hear.
Well, I've forbidden it.
Your mother will see he doesn't go.
Mother? Did you say Mother will see? That's a good one, Pop.
'Cause I got news for you: Mother will see to it that he does go, and then you won't have a fucking clue until the deal is done.
But that's gonna be okay with you, isn't it? Mother does the dirty spadework, while fucking Shaun wins a few dirty competitions and more dirty money starts flowing into Mitch's fucking ashram.
Yeah, don't forget the dirty needles, Butchie.
How about that other dirty business you're not in? Of being a fucking father to your son.
So your mother and I had to wind up taking legal custody.
I oughta drive down to that shitbox you live in - and kick your fucking ass! - You could fucking try, Dad.
I'm on my way, son.
Don't forget to lube up your bone-on-bone knee, you fucking goat! Don't forget to shoot up some courage! Fuck you! What a dick! I think he's actually gonna come.
God damn, I gotta get high.
I gotta get good and fucking high so I could kick that cocksucker's fucking ass.
Fucking high, I gotta get high.
I gotta get high, man.
Are you from someplace cold, John? I don't know, Butchie, instead.
I bet if you're from someplace cold, John, that your mom clipped your mittens to your fucking coat.
You want to meet a happy family, watch a Saturday morning cartoons, John.
Meet the fucking Jetsons.
Meet the fucking Jetsons.
Hey, you wanna see my old man get his ass kicked? Just take a ride with me, pal.
Shift supervisor pick up 432.
Shift supervisor pick up 432.
I'm looking for an Instamatic.
Would you consider a diabetic, if hardworking and handsome? An Instamatic camera, Gary.
We don't have 'em.
- You don't? - No, no Instamatics.
I'm fully acquainted with our inventory, ma'am.
We no longer carry Instamatics.
We have digital cameras, and we have disposables, and those are all in aisle 74.
Okay, those nearly hit me.
No, those nearly didn't.
Up your ass! Up your nose with a rubber hose.
Fuck you! Excuse me.
I lost my temper.
Step out of the line, please, ma'am.
- Why? - Please step out of the line.
You fucking idiot with your tin badge and your stupid fucking goatee.
- 427.
- Oh, we up to a 427 now? You going for the mace and tasers? Please step out of the line.
Hi, these checkout lines are closed, folks.
They'll help you over here.
This guy made a half-assed pass at me.
I am a diabetic.
I did no such thing.
- Come with me, ma'am.
- Just get your hands off me.
- Ma'am, ma'am.
- Hey, get your hands off of me.
Ma'am, please.
Maybe we should have had one of those flower necklaces for him.
It's called a lei.
It may come to that.
The Snug Harbor's new owner, Ramon.
Mr.
Cunningham.
If attorney Dickstein has been discreet, it will now surprise you to learn, Ramon, I'm a winner of the Mega Millions lottery.
Whoa, congratulations! I disclose this to explain that I am armed in accord with the state lottery commission's pamphlet, "The Challenge of Sudden Wealth," which urges that winners be cautious in the conduct of their business affairs.
Sensible.
In any case, after a 20 years interlude in Azusa, I am returned to Imperial Beach.
I've told Ramon that you intend to keep him on.
In fact, Ramon, you won't continue as manager.
I told attorney Dickstein I'd be keeping you on salary.
Naturally, I'd assumed I'm going to level this place.
I have many cousins that can help to level, and my cousin Margarita works for the department of permits.
- Level it? - Level it.
Ah.
I will not be surprised nor judge harshly, Ramon, to learn that you've supplemented your stipend from the court taking in guests off the libros.
That guest is my responsibility, Mr.
Cunningham.
A relative down on his luck? I surf a little.
He was a great surfer.
And, yes, he was down on his luck.
Pull the handle, push the door, John.
He did pay $200 for staying here a couple of days, which Ramon insisted on.
Yeah, he was a spokesman for that tequila.
Butchie.
Butchie.
Sit down and stay right here.
I'm gonna roll me a fucking fat one.
Full fucking quiver, right, John? - Huh? - I don't know, Butchie, instead.
Better have a good fucking health plan you see Mitch Yost again.
Butchie Yost, he changed surfing.
Butchie Yost? Deal with the kids in the works.
Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ! This is a blowout.
This is a puncture of the left front tire.
This is all fucked up, man.
My grandson's got a surfing contest.
My husband and I are supposed to take him.
Mitch Yost, the wonderful surfer from before the talkies.
Does that make you Butchie Yost's mother? - Is that a crime now, too? - Watch your head.
What the fuck does it even mean? Stay out of this, John.
Stay back.
The end is near.
Right here, you ancient fuck.
Now's your shot.
Yeah, let me give you today's excuse for shooting up.
Bring it, you fuck! Nothing to be ashamed of at any age, to be afraid to change a tire in traffic.
I swear we'll get you to your event.
The pigs got Grandma.
Have I told you not to use that word? I'm gonna pull it over here.
Probably completely obliterate the rim.
This is my dad's motel.
I can't help it.
Circumstances have intervened.
Come on, you little shit.
What are you afraid of? Right here.
Now's your chance.
I oughta kick your fucking teeth in.
We are all frail vessels.
Come on, motherfucker.
What's this nonsense now? Butchie's mom hurt Barry's head.
Stay down, Shaunie.
Even as I try to close the libros of this sordid edifice, write finis to the story of my deflowering at 10 - in room 24 - Room 24 will give up its dead - and the dead shall be forgiven.
- I find characters from another chapter of my life intruding.
Not completely following, Mr.
Cunningham, but so certain guns are not the answer.
Does your grotesque spawn still wield the old broom handle, Mitch? Brain the occasional 12-year-old shell collector? What the fuck are you talking about? Maybe he and Butchie have some history on the beach.
Where Ramon is from, they would build Mitch a shrine.
from the slack-jawed mutant, Butchie, on the beach, - lo, those many years ago.
- I remember him.
We were in the sixth grade together.
It's Barry the Fairy.
And were you not the surfer, Mitch, who paddled in to see what happened, then turned and paddled back out? I was trying to hit you with the broom part, Barry.
No one meant to hit you with the handle.
Oh, why, I wonder if knowing that mightn't have kept me from contracting epilepsy - in the aftermath.
- The broom part fell off.
The broom part fell off, Ramon.
Don't we find so often our bodies are theaters of our resentments? Certainly One good blowjob rocked the Jew lawyer's world.
in room 24, mine has hosted vaudevilles of degradation.
No no no.
Hey, Barry Barry Barry! What's the matter with you? And you two carrying on with your wife and your mother in custody.
- My mother? - Shaun will soon be gone.
Get this fruit out of the sun.
- I'm Shaun.
- I'm John.
How's it going? It's disorderly conduct, for God's sake.
She's gotta be run for warrants.
It's a citation and release.
Expedite the warrant search.
Let's get this senile bastard out of here.
What is that little back and forth? I'm behind the desk now, Bill, and I'm asking you - to sit down.
- How about if I don't sit down? How about if I make your circulars current? How about that? Because they're a disgrace.
Here's one: Hernandez robbery and car theft.
I swear to God, this guy changed my oil not two days ago.
It's an honor to be in the company of a surfing legend.
Thank you.
We lost you too soon to your knee.
I get around all right.
And your son also, to his many difficulties.
Well, you see him breathing there.
Competitively, I meant, we've lost him.
Does that about get it all said? Except for my thanks for the pleasure - you gave me as a spectator.
- You're welcome.
So I guess you missed your event.
Are you proud of me? No, I said I didn't want to go, Shaunie.
'Cause it's so lame? Which isn't saying you should be missing shit.
Anyways.
How's it going? I'll say just one more thing: Trestles, 1979.
To see you surf was all I wanted for my bar mitzvah.
You're a fifth fucking wheel around here, Dickstein.
You feel they'd want me to make a statement? I'll make a statement if need be.
I'm the department retiree.
- And I have the weapon - Please don't speak of any weapon.
Your assignment is to keep my truck from being disassembled by marauding lowlifes and to make sure that that fruit gets home.
- He has a car of his own.
- Hybrid which the marauders won't bother.
And if the fruit's allowed at the wheel, I'm liable to drive off a bridge.
For God's sake, Dickstein, only one hand can be at the helm.
Please tell everyone I left.
Like anybody gives a fuck.
If I ask, is Shaunie gonna tell me Bill was taking him to Huntington? Well, he's not much of a liar.
Well, I guess that's between me and your mother.
I went bullshit at a Jenco.
I don't speak Spanish, honey.
He must read some old fucking magazines.
He signed up to be my student and told me you should get back in the game.
Yeah, he told me the same thing at the beach this morning.
He's harmless and fucking rich.
I just found out I'm pretty sick.
That's why I short-fused when you fucking called.
I got beat on some dope.
I'm dopesick, Dad, is what I'm trying to say.
Gonna be.
I mean, that's why I was cranky on the phone.
Am I up in the air right now? What do you mean? - Are my feet off the ground? - No.
You don't even fucking look? What do I have to look for, Dad? You're not off the fucking ground.
That's the tumor's big symptom feeling like you're up in the air.
So it's in your brain.
Jesus Christ, I'm sorry.
When did they do the tests? What difference does it make? - Does Mom know? - Oh, yeah.
I had to tell her this morning.
Fuck, I I'm sorry I broke your balls.
That's the last fucking thing you needed.
You're up.
It feels like I am.
You are.
You're off the ground, Dad.
You're like 21/2 inches in the fucking air.
Feels like more.
Well, if that's a tumor, where do I sign up? - What is your name? - My name is John.
- He's my friend.
- I'm his friend.
Well, friend of Shaun, I got my eye on you.
I got my eye on you.
No, I got my eye on you.
No, I got my eye on you.
Ho ho.
I'll watch my own head.
Are you profferring charges, too? We gotta get wet.
Do you have another gun, Mr.
Cunningham? I did not buy a backup, against the advice of Pete's Pistol Hut.
Do you feel at this moment you may otherwise be a danger to yourself? No, I do not feel at this moment that I'm otherwise a danger to myself.
Do you surf? I do not surf.
You should try it sometime.
It's fun.
Well, I hope I'll see you tomorrow.
I gotta ask you, John we're gonna be friends no matter what, okay? Could you have fibbed as far as your skill level? I could have fibbed.
For example, John, is it possible that you've never been on a board? It's possible, Butchie.
We cannot fold on dry land right now, okay? When we're outside, you're gonna get a leg cramp, then we're gonna turn around and paddle back in.
How does that sound to you? That sounds, Butchie.
Jesus Christ.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Can I go out with Dad and John now? Yeah, go ahead.
- Oh, my fucking leg! - You gotta grab the leg, John.
- You gotta sell it.
- Can you help me out, Dad? Yeah.
- You ready, Shaunie? - You ready, John? - Hell yeah, John's ready.
- Hell yeah, I'm ready, Shaun.
All right, student, do as teacher does.
One step fucking behind me.
No no no no.
No hands, John.
Come on.
Grab your board.
No no no.
Johnny, there you go.
Just when you think he's run out of doofuses.
So Bill says he can't remember when he got that flat if he was taking Shaun to that surf contest.
He was.
I asked him to.
After I forbade it.
Maybe this is the time we admit we don't have a perfect marriage.
Maybe it's the time to say I don't have a brain tumor.
What do you got? Surfer's ear, like you thought.
You'd never mistake him for a beginner, would you? Nuh-uh.
You're not paddling like a monkey on crack over there, John.
I'm not a monkey on crack.
You all right there, Bill? Waiting to hear from Dickstein.
Did he get my truck towed? Did he transport that suicidal fruit? Waiting to find out.
Might as well be speaking Russian.
Do you surf, Teddy? Teddy, you wiped out.
- Oh, my fucking leg! - Just rest a minute, John.
It'll pass.
I gotta sell it.
Go ahead, Shaun, take one in while John's cramp passes.
Shaunie Yost! I just needed to catch my breath.
We'll paddle back in a second.
No no no, whoa whoa.
Wait wait, John, John! Somebody call an ambulance! Johnny Monad just put that wave in the ICU! I don't think I'm gonna do it.
Surf, you mean, before us fallen earthlings? Tomorrow's another day.
Tomorrow's another day.
This kid's smart-aleck friend gets a stem-to-stern checkout tomorrow.
I can guarantee you that much.
I got my eye on you.
Well, I got my eye on you, pal, believe you me.
I got my eye on you, Bill.