The Hard Times of RJ Berger (2010) s02e10 Episode Script

Sex. Teen. Candles.

Previously on The Hard Times of RJ Berger You never get wheels then you never get to have fun in the back seat.
Amy, I completely understand if you never wanna see me again.
Think she's a keeper or a clunker? Definitely a keeper.
Today is the worst day of the year.
Most kids can't wait for their 16th birthday.
Then again, most kids don't have to deal with Max Owens.
Don't move.
Empty your pockets.
Happy Birthday! - It's the big 1-6.
- Thank you.
So what's with the hoodie? You tryin' to hide from me? No, it's just I really hate my birthday.
But you're turning 16, it's supposed to be sweet.
And besides, I have a really special gift for you tonight.
Hint-hint, it comes in a box.
As half-mast as I am at the thought of that, I just am really trying to get through the day without being humiliated.
Humiliated by what? Aah! - Oh! - Oh, no.
All: You think I'd forget your birthday, did you, tubesteak? Don't worry, you're gonna get the Max-imum torture Count Freak-ula! Whoo! Owens! Tell me that's flour.
Medicated foot powder.
Dude, Happy Bi What? Oh! That's why Max wanted your locker combination.
Stupid! My name is RJ Berger.
And I hate my [bleep] birthday.
Gotta give Max some credit.
He put a lot of work into that prank.
Actually, that's pretty tame as far as Max's birthday gifts go.
Wait, this has happened before? Well Not exactly.
Happy, Happy Birthday! In the first grade, Max knew I was terrified of clowns.
Happy Birthday! I'm gonna kill you! All: In the fifth grade, I got to bring my pet hamster Magneto to school for the day.
Give me that.
Three-pointer! Magneto! Nuthin' but net! And who can forget Eighth grade.
Whoa! Blow that out, loser.
So why don't you put an end to it? He's a force of nature, Amy.
There's nothing I can do but just ride out the storm.
- Yup.
- Wow.
What happened to the cute, confident kid I fell for in the library? RJ, these things happen to you because you let them happen to you.
You wanna bone down? Then man up.
I kinda like this girl.
Now I lost my shot at birthday sex with Amy.
Looks like I'll be the only one washing white stuff off their face today.
Yeah, that was never gonna happen.
What? Look, no offense, RJ.
But you're like the boy who cried vagina.
- Enlighten me.
- Okay.
Every time a girl ahem, Jenny Swanson, ahem, says tonight's the night, it's not.
Berger! You have a visitor.
Um, what are you doing here? There's my birthday boy.
I just came by to drop off these excaliboar cupcakes I stayed up all night baking.
Mom, thank you, but I'm not seven.
I'm in the middle of gym class.
Sorry, honey.
Jeriba let me in.
Didn't you? Yeah.
Oh, just look at him.
And to think that only ten years ago he was sucking on these puppies like a junkie on a crackpipe.
- Mm.
- Those are my crackpipes now.
- Yes, they are.
- Heh-heh! Wait, you were still breastfeeding at six? All right.
Mom, time to go.
All right, all right, I'm off.
I love you, my little angel.
And I'll see you later my little devil.
Oh, yes, you will.
Wanna try one of these before I go? Have a taste.
Yeah, I'll have a taste.
Have a taste.
Get her, coach! Well, it's official.
This is the worst birthday of my life.
First Max tortures me, then my mom humiliates me.
And now Amy thinks I'm a pussy! RJ, you are a pussy.
Thanks, guys, you always know how to cheer me up.
Hey, yo.
How about we throw a party? You're turning 16, dog.
This is your time.
All right, forget about Max for a little while and just get crazy.
How about we all throw an anti-Max freak fest? You know, rub it in his face, homie! Dude, that's genius.
Imagine having a party filled with everyone but Max.
All the people he's ever hurt or bullied over all the years.
I'm talking the geeks, emos, stoners, his ex-girlfriends.
Everyone comes together and celebrates their hatred for Max.
- And Robin.
- That's my bitch! Word, we'd all come to that, dog.
Yeah, that sounds amazing, but it's suicide.
The second Max hears about it, he'll He'll humiliate you? Beat you up? He already does that, RJ.
And don't forget the birthday sex.
You know, Max has tormented me for 16 years.
Tonight, it's his turn.
We're having us a party.
And Max is not invited.
I can make flyers.
- I'll decorate.
- I'll bring the crew.
Sounds like you're about to have your cake and [bleep] it, too.
Whoo! Hey, birthday boy.
Big plans tonight? Actually, yeah.
I'm thinking about having a birthday party.
Oh, heck.
You oughta throw it at my place.
My neighbors keep asking me if I'm looking for a good time.
I don't think that's what they mean.
Oh, this'll be great, yeah! I'll get you a keg, and you can invite as many people as you want.
I can get you and Amy a discounted rate on a room, huh? Huh? RJ likey? RJ would likey, if Amy hadn't called him a pussy who needs to grow a pair.
The best thing about being a dad, is watching your son learn one of the fundamental truths of scoring.
It's a tale as old as time.
When the booty calls, you gotta have balls.
What are the chances of you getting me into the assistant principal's office? So Jenny's on publicity, and, Miles, you'll be on security.
Just push this button.
And when the light turns red, it's on.
All right, thanks, got it.
Ahem! Attention, Pinkerton High.
My name is RJ Berger.
And today, I'm turning 16.
Oh, that's my boy! To celebrate, I'd like to invite you all to my birthday party.
Where we'll be honoring Pinkerton's biggest douche bag, Max Owens.
Boy has got a death wish.
We'll be serving up live music, cold beverages, and the Max-imum revenge.
So if you hate Max as much as I do, then come to the No-Tell Motel tonight at 8:00 P.
for the first-ever Max Bash! And, Max, you're not invited.
Nice work, son.
Dad, uh, release the button.
Oh, yeah, okay.
What the hell was that? A Max bash? Berger's a dead man.
Hey, every dog has his day.
That's statistics, bro.
Yeah? Well, I got a statistic for you.
That's how many times we're gonna destroy this dork convention.
God, I love it when you're cruel.
- Ew! - Gross.
We're never gonna be as young as we are today Pin the tail on the douche bag.
Come to the Max bash tonight at 8:00 P.
at the No-Tell Motel.
Beer, cake, revenge! Dude, this is unbelievable.
These are going faster than lube at the Jonas Brothers' house.
This party's gonna be off the chain! RJ.
All right, I'll catch you later.
What is going on? Did you miss my announcement over the pa system? I guess so, I was in band rehearsal.
We tend to get a teensy bit loud.
Wait, I'm sorry.
You're in a band? Uh, yeah, don't I seem like I'd be in a band? That's amazing.
You can play at the party tonight.
The Max Bash? RJ, this is awesome! Of course we'll play.
It'll be our first real gig.
- You little bitch! - Aah! You think you could just dis me in front of the whole school? Leave him alone, asshole! I'm gonna make you wish you never had a birthday.
God damn it, Owens! Get your ass in the gym before I put you in detention! - Who's side are you on, coach? - Gym, now! This is not over, Berger.
Ay! I do nothing.
You didn't need to do that.
Yeah, well, I gotta look out for my number one son, right? You know, uh, I was thinking.
Maybe Susie and I might stop by tonight.
Oh, well, you know.
The party's at my dad's hotel.
So, you know, probably not the best idea.
I see.
Keeping your own mama away from your birthday party.
That's cold, brother.
That's ice cold.
I've gathered you here today because you're the best.
Tonight, we'll be going deep cover.
Ugly clothing.
And sandals.
Our mission will begin here, at exactly zero-ten-hundred hours.
- Huh? - What? - 10:00 P.
- Oh.
Then, at 10:30 we will infiltrate the dork party here.
And execute operation messer-upper with extreme prejudice.
- It's on! - Yeah! Once our mission is complete, we will "ren-dez-venous" back here, at approximately 11:00 P.
Wait, wait, wait.
Where's there? That's Robin's house.
Her mom's making us chili.
Hey, hey, hey! Nice.
But first, we're gonna change Berger's birthday, into his death day.
Death day.
That's a good one.
Hey! There's my birthday boy! Welcome to your party, RJ.
Hey, everybody, come on out and meet my son! - Hey, Ricky's son is here.
- Hi.
This is my boy I've been telling you about.
It's his 16th birthday! Happy Birthday! - Thanks, ladies.
- Uh, they're not ladies, son.
So, um, you're the only one setting up? Let's break this place, bitches! Whoo! Whoo! Wow.
Happy Birthday, you bitch Happy Birthday, you bitch Happy Birthday, you bitch Check, check.
One, two, check, check.
Hi, boys.
So what do you think? Pre or post-op? Check, check.
One, two.
What? Dude, there's a whole gaggle of female impersonators everywhere.
And that won't even draw your eyes off of her.
You must really like this girl, huh? You like her, you like her! What's not to like? Amy's performing at my birthday party.
And then later I'm getting my birthday present.
Which, knowing you, you'll find a way to not have sex.
Whoo! What's up, what's up? Welcome to the Max Bash, party people! Yeah! We are Thunderstorm of Blood.
Formerly known as The Tamponics.
This one goes out to my birthday boy.
Correction, my birthday man.
RJ Berger.
This one is called Puking Snake.
One, two, three, four! This ain't no zoo, baby this ain't no zoo what's a girl to do, baby with a snake like you you got me nervous, baby about to break I gotta lose that that puking snake Happy Birthday Max, you suck This dress makes me look like Rosie O'Donnell.
Can we just hurry up and get this over with? Chill, babe.
Timing's everything.
Remember, everybody, extreme loser torture.
Freakin' absolute destruction.
But you leave Berger for me.
And then we're going home.
For chili.
Don't mess with the sink don't play with the knobs just get in the stall Whoo! Oh! Nice shot! You busted his knee and tore his sack.
Whoo! Next? I'm a back to front wiper a back to front wiper Thank you, thank you.
That little ditty was called back to front wiper.
Whoo! So now you've heard two of our three songs.
But before we play you our finale, I'd like to invite the patron saint of Max-bashing to the stage! Here's to you, RJ Berger.
You manned up.
RJ, RJ, RJ, RJ! You know what happens later.
Thank you, Amy.
I would like to say a few words about my son, RJ.
Oh, great.
Gosh, I still remember the night that he was conceived.
All right, dad.
Thank you.
It was amazing.
Aw! Suzanne and I were in the back of a station wagon.
I'd forgotten my condoms.
Went raw, dog! And that's how RJ, uh Well, and there she is, folks.
My wife, Suzanne Berger.
- Mom? - With another man.
But she is RJ's mother, Suzanne, would you like to come up here and say a few words about your son? There you go.
Thank you everyone for being here, thank you so much.
I remember the night that Rick was talking about.
And it was magical.
Explosive, even.
Okay, mom, thank you.
We'd been experimenting with tantric orgasm.
Let the eggs fly! - Oh! - Whoa, hey! Let the real Max-bashing begin! Suzanne.
Let's roll.
Thank you.
Thank you, Rick.
- Come on.
- Go, go, go! Let's go.
You're dead, birthday boy.
I'm not a boy.
Come on, RJ.
Hurry up.
No! I've had enough of this! What did you call me? I called you birthday boy! What is your problem!? You've been picking on me for 16 years.
I'm tired of it, it ends tonight.
It ends when I say it ends.
Do you see all these people? Staring at you? They are all here tonight because they hate you.
Because you're a bully and a [bleep] [beep]hole! That's enough, Max! Not in our parking lot, bitch! Yeah! If anybody's gonna be pounding high school boys around here, it's us.
- Mm-hmm.
- This is not over, Berger.
I ruined your party, I ruined your birthday.
And the next time I see you, I'm gonna ruin the rest of your life.
Back off.
Whew! You're dead.
- Wow, girls, thank you.
- Thanks.
- Are you okay? - Yeah, actually I am.
Oh, my God, you got egg on your face.
I'm so sorry.
Are you kidding me? I got eggs thrown at me at my first show, it's like I'm in a real band.
It was fun.
While it lasted.
Fun's not over yet.
There's still my birthday present.
Oh, that was intense.
Way to stand your ground, dog.
Happy Birthday, RJ.
Amy Shut up and blow out your candles.
You make a wish? Yup.
Did it come true? It's about to.
I know this is starting to be undeniable and I know this baby's starting to feel like a little bit of you and me Do you have any condoms? That is my favorite question.
And the answer is yes.
Wow, it's true.
You really are RJ Berger.
Ooh! Oh, no.
I'm so sorry.
Oh, my God oh! Nice one! After my stomach stops tingling, we're totally doing that again.
Evening, Berger.
Coach, what are you doing? Take it easy! Just getting a couple of towels.
Clean your mama up.
Both: My name is RJ Berger.
And not even that can ruin this birthday.
Next on The Hard Times of RJ Berger Vote Max and Robin! Vote the Non-Douchebag Party! What the hell? Why is my name on this with Jenny? You got nominated.
One minute you tell me you love me and the next you're running in some stupid competition with your ex? I have some exciting news.
- Is dad moving in? - Ta-da! - Holy Jeribus! - That's my boy!