You're The Worst (2014) s02e01 Episode Script

The Sweater People

Hey, guys? One, two, three, go! Ah! Head wigglies! - Guys - I win! - Head wigglies? - Head wigglies.
When you drink something cold too fast and your head gets all wiggly.
- You Brits have baby talk for everything.
- Guys - Telly, lorry, willy, nappy, bobby! - Guys.
Well, you have very silly things in your vocabulary as well.
- Like what? - "American exceptionalism.
" Nice.
Former colony burn.
Guys! - What is it?! - Excuse me! - You are being exceedingly rude.
- Can't you see we're in the middle of something? This is the fifth night in a row.
Can you pack it in for the night? No can do, Hoss.
Jimmy's never seen House Party.
- Really? - Yes.
Somehow the House Party series wasn't popular in my scorchingly racistic, industrial lead-mining neighborhood.
He thinks Play's the villain.
Ah, no, actually, I have updated my archetypal dramatis personae since act one.
Play is the Sage.
- Mm.
- Kid is the Seeker, Stab is the Villain and Martin Lawrence is the Fool.
I have to be at work really early.
Are you talking about making me breakfast? 'Cause I wouldn't call I work at the gym.
Oh, no, Edgar, we call it "working out at" the gym.
Do you really have a job? Yes! I wipe down machines and I monitor the men's showers for roughhousing.
Do you know what? I haven't been taking into account what an adjustment it must be for you, having Gretchen living here now.
We should all learn to compromise.
- Thank you.
- So let's put it to a house vote.
On the floor is the question: Should we have a curfew on weeknights? Those in favor? Those in opposition? Ah.
The cold, egalitarian hand of Lady Democracy has triumphed once again.
- God save the Queen.
- God save the Queen.
I'm gonna leave you anyway Gonna leave you anyway.
Re-synced by Hikkupz Here we go.
Breakfast lasagna.
- No, thanks.
- Not hungry.
- But you guys are always hungry.
- Too hungover.
Also, we ate at, like, what, 5:00 a.
m.
? - Mm.
- I made Bagel Bites.
Well, since I made all this lasagna, maybe we should have Lindsay over.
She loves a breakfast lasagna.
Dogs don't eat nachos.
Plus, we're all so worried about how she's doing with the whole - Paul breakup.
- She's fine.
- I'm seeing her later.
- Okay, well, then, uh, give her my love.
Well, not like "my love," just like, "S'up? Hang in there, kid.
" You know.
Something chill and friendly-like.
My Uber driver called, like, six times and it didn't even ring! Salvatore! Salvatore?! - Is he out there? - No.
But the Zoiddle car just drove past with all its stupid cameras.
Shoot! I should have flashed him.
- I hate the Zoiddle car.
- Why? It's a violation.
Putting my house on the Internet for any of my obsessive fans to see.
Hello? Can you hear me? What's the address here? You don't know the address? - No.
- You live here.
- Who knows their address? - People.
Kidnapped children.
This dog I saw on Dateline who rides the bus to the park.
- 696969th Street.
- 6969 Hello? - Damn it! Not again.
- You should just get on Jimmy's plan.
He gets great reception and a family plan will probably be cheaper for both of you anyway.
Ew! Ugh! - Gross.
- Why don't you get on a family plan? Well, I don't have a family.
All right, I'll see you guys later.
Well, you sure you don't want to take some for the road? Seriously, thanks.
I couldn't eat another bite.
I'm telling you, Gretch, I'm great.
Living alone is way fun.
I'm naked all the time, ass-ing everything.
- Oh, I love sprawling.
- Sprawling is the best.
Sure, Paul messed up the natural order of things: hot awesome sex foxes are supposed to leave rich nerds, not the other way around.
But it's okay.
Paul was just too reserved to be compatible with someone like me who just wants to truly live.
And sprawl.
And sprawl, Gretch.
Gotta sprawl.
So you haven't seen him? He's been busy planning his new future with the chat room girl.
- Beer cooze? - Beer cooze.
Actually, he's coming by later to drop off his keys.
You want me to be there? Give him some of my shitty death stares? Ooh! But it's okay.
I'm in a good place about it.
Are you sure? 'Cause I can Oh, God.
I'm fine.
It passed.
You look terrible.
Ever since I've been at Jimmy's, we've been partying nonstop.
If I don't get a night off soon, I think my liver is going to slide out of my body, you know? No, Gretch.
I don't know.
- What? - You can't stop.
- But I'm tired.
- Were you born yesterday? Did you slither out of your mother's cooch yesterday, Gretchen? Are you a little born-yesterday diaperface? Why are you being so mean to me? "Yesterday I was safe in my mommy's tummy "and then I got born and the world is so cold and hard.
Wah!" I just want to drink tea and read a book and be cozy.
- You shut the hell up! - Lindser! In the early days, Paul and I used to have actual fun.
Then, pretty soon, it was laptops in bed, lights out at 10:00 and next thing you knew, I was calling him "the hubs" and he could only finish in my hand.
What? There comes a day when every relationship turns gross, old and boring.
Like Ben Affleck and Jennifer "Gardener.
" Don't puss out this early.
Keep it awesome for as long as you can.
I know.
Do butt stuff tonight! But I don't want to do butt stuff tonight.
Ow! You go home tonight and you dress up real slutty, and you do butt stuff with your boyfriend.
For all of us who let love die by becoming ordinary.
Do it for the sweater people, Gretch.
The sweater people.
Wait.
You wear sweaters all the time.
It's a metaphor.
Hey.
Hey.
I got your emergency text.
Oh, God, that was touch and go there for a second.
Ah! Head wigglies.
You and Gretchen should really take it easy.
Absolutely not.
I'm having a blast! I mean, yeah, I'm peeing blood and I briefly forgot the word for telephone, but just because we're co-habitating does not mean that we're gonna become disgusting normals.
If you don't get some sleep, you're going to die.
I died when I was with Becca.
That's when I died.
With Gretchen, I'm determined to live.
While I'm here a friend of mine has a problem.
Is it you? No, my friend Gabriel, from work.
You don't have friends.
- Is it you? - Anyway, Gabriel likes this girl who's going through some life transitions.
Edgar, you're obviously talking about you and Lindsay.
How did you know? Well, you've been screaming her name out in your sleep.
Usually it's things like, "Get to the chopper!" or "Where's Rodriguez?" or "I didn't know it was a school!" I didn't know it was a school.
The point is, if this is about you and Lindsay, there is no you and Lindsay.
- There's never going to be.
- Never mind.
- Can I go back to work now? - You have a job? Hello, Lindsay.
Paul, you don't have to be nervous.
I'm fine.
Really? Okay.
Good.
Guess I don't need this pepper spray.
- Here's your mail.
- Thank you, ma'am.
Actually, I brought a few things for you to sign.
- What is it? - Just busywork.
Like this one removes you from my video store account.
This one, my hummus of the month club.
This takes you off the membership for the Museum of Prehistoric Metallurgy, but I bought you your own individual membership so there'd be no gap for you there.
So, how's beer coo - Amy? - Good.
I'm actually flying to Boulder tomorrow to meet Amy "I.
R.
L.
" for the first time, in real life.
- That's great.
- Yeah? That's really great.
You're going to do a makeover before you go, right? - What? - Oh, nothing.
I just figured before you met your soul mate you would want to make sure you were looking your best.
- What? - Has your hair always been so round? You're right, she's going to hate me.
I look like a young Roger Ebert.
Come upstairs.
I'll help you pick out a couple outfits.
- Really? - After all, you got me my own membership to the place with the old stuff.
Thanks, Lindsay.
This is really mature of you.
Almost almost - I'm ready! - Okay.
Tighter! - Oh, come on, bear.
- Oh - Oh, sweet hand.
- That's right, Paulywog.
It's happening, it's happening.
Oh What the hell am I doing? Hey.
- Hey, yourself, Hunk-face.
- What are you wearing? Just a little something fun and flirty.
You like? Yeah, I bet you do.
I thought we could do butt stuff tonight.
Fantastic! Yeah, for sure.
We don't have to if you don't want to.
I mean, I could be fine just Pfft.
Of course I want to do butt stuff.
In fact, I am so up for having another crazy night, I have prepared as well.
Oh, look! You got a whole mess of cocaine.
Oh, yeah.
'Cause you love cocaine, right? Yes, I do! It's my shit.
Cool.
Let's add cocaine to the butt stuff.
Are you yawning? I'm just excited for our night of drugs and potentially dangerous sex acts.
- Yay.
- Yay.
Ooh, we should let the divorce go through and then get remarried.
That way, we get to have another fat-ass party where everyone has to buy us more cool prizes off our list.
Still can't believe no one bought us that doughnut maker.
Those cheapskates.
Can't believe I was disloyal.
To let myself be tempted.
And by the fruit of another.
See, Paul, the great thing about me is that I'm incredibly good at moving past things.
- Poof.
I forgive you.
- No, I meant disloyal to Amy.
- What?! - Oh, God.
I haven't even met her, and I've already cheated on her.
Cheated on her? But I'm your wife.
You can't leave! I love you.
Do you even know what love means? Yeah, it's like, "Hey, I love you.
Smooch, smooch.
Now go make me some Bagel Bites.
" Love isn't about having someone to get you things.
Love is putting someone else's feelings above your own.
Do you think you could ever do that? - Honestly? - Ew.
I didn't mean that.
Bi tch.
Bi tch.
Wake up, bitch! Why are you yelling at me?! - What are you doing in my house? - We had a lunch meeting.
Just three dudes sitting alone in Chin Chin like weirdos.
Oh, shit.
I'm sorry, I haven't been sleeping much.
Do I look like a Fitbit? I don't give a shit about your sleep.
What I give a shit about is the unfathomable fact that you, bitch, do not respect my brand.
-Our brand.
- Whatever.
I'm here, Sam.
What do you need? I need you to act like a human person and pick up your goddamn phone when I call your stank ass! I'm sorry.
My cell gets terrible reception now that I moved to Jimmy's.
You moved in with Jimmy? I need to talk to you later.
I'm thinking about locking things down with Jaclyn.
Take this that's your God phone.
You pick that shit up when God wants to talk to you or you wish to talk to God.
Yo Mobile? They sell these at my dispensary.
Guys, I have a work number.
Uh-uh.
Sleepy bitches lose they right to use normal people phones.
Sleepy bitches only get to use phones made for hookers and drug addicts and irresponsible garbage people! Come on, let's go.
- What should we do tonight? - I don't know.
I mean we could just, like, keep it chill.
Like, have a low-key night.
Mellow and easy, but still fun.
Yeah, the yacht rock of nights.
I mean sure.
I guess that sounds okay to me.
How can I help you kids? Uh, I moved in with him, and ever since then, I've had reception issues, so I just didn't know what my options were, but Ah, the family plan.
Main Street.
Gingersnaps at the kitchen table.
An armoire full of board games.
A funny cat video.
A "just checking in" text exactly when you need it the most.
The savings? Well, heck, who doesn't like to save a buck? But a family plan is about people.
People wanting to be part of something bigger in this world that feels well, too darn big some days, if you ask me.
Every time you look at your phone, you'll say to yourself, "I'm part of something.
"I'm part of a family.
I'm part of a family plan.
" - How lame was that guy? - Ugh, the lamest.
What's up? Nothing.
Just partying hard like you guys.
Not exactly like us.
Um, we're on our fifth shot each.
Wow, alcohol.
Hard core.
Let it go.
For your information, we did a ton of cocaine last night.
That's cool if you're a day-trader in the '80s or my dad's new wife Brenda.
Well, what do you assholes have? It's this new synthetic thing.
Belgian.
They use it to chemically sterilize horses.
Who cares? - Let's get more shots.
- How much? - It's pretty intense.
- We stole a DVD kiosk last night.
- How much? - 40 a pill.
- $40?! - Give him the cheddar.
Let me just give you guys a few tips.
Do not listen to music.
Nothing is sucking you towards it.
Thanks, rookie, we'll be fine.
Okay.
Good luck.
"Do not listen to music"? Shut up, you little bitch.
I've been doing drugs since I was nine.
Eat shit, haters.
Lindsay, are you trapped under something heavy? All right.
I'm coming in.
At the end of the day, he wanted me.
He just didn't want me forever.
Lindsay, you know the people you remember from, like, history books? Not a one.
Me neither, actually.
But those explorers and adventurers in there were the ones who saw that snowy, unfriendly, treacherous mountain pass and said, "Challenge accepted.
" You think I'm an unfriendly treacherous mountain? And I think Paul couldn't hack it.
And for that, he's not only a fool, but he's a coward.
Thank you.
Meanwhile, I'm gonna die here alone in the museum of Paul.
And I hate museums.
Then get rid of it all.
Come on.
- We can't keep doing this.
- This has got to stop.
But I don't want to be one of the sweater people.
Gretch, we couldn't be one of the sweater people even if we wore, like, ten cardigans each.
But what if only people with secret sweater people inside fear becoming sweater people? Like how homophobes secretly want all the dicks in their mouths.
Look, we're not against sweater people.
We're not protesting sweater people's right to exist.
We just choose not to be them, because they remind us of encroaching death.
- Okay? - Okay.
So you're okay if I just lie here and read my book? As long as it's okay I go to sleep immediately and get a refreshing nine hours.
Deal.
- Good night.
- Good night.
Mm-wah.
Mm-wah.
So we'll just stick to clear liquids? Sounds good.
Two vodkas.
Do you think Paul wants his geocaching gear? Maybe he can use it to track down his new girlfriend's tiny boobs.
Mean.
Hey, will you take out this trash? Thanks for helping me tonight.
Do you want some Bagel Bites? I could eat.
Time to introduce myself as B-Ill The super chill The kind lady daffodil Dre from Brazil making beats so versatile I'm a magical jungle man, my reality a hologram Here I go again Is it inane or just insane? My life is on the brain with a grip up on the mic Yeah, we doing it right Original gangsters from Cleveland unite It is hard to be a gangster, gangster - To be a gangster - With basket on your bike It is hard to be a gangster, gangster - To be a gangster - With basket on your bike It is hard to be a gangster, gangster - To be a gangster - With basket on your bike It is hard to be a gangster, gangster Gangster, gangster, gangster It is hard to be a gangster, gangster Gangster, gangster, gangster
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