01x08 - Finish Your Milk

Gretchen: Yes, Rodney, I know the agreement is for two years.

The truth is, I'm on dialysis. It's acute renal failure caused by sweat poisoning. Strenuous exercise could literally kill me. I'm with my doctor right now.

Let me put him on.

Jimmy: Oh, come on.

(Sighs) (Indian accent): This is Dr. Patel. Look, between you and me, she's on her deathbed. I told her to cancel her gym membership just to give her a purpose in her final hours.

What a tragedy to die so young having not accomplished anything in life.

Gretchen: Oh, that guy.

What a pessimist. I'm gonna fight this thing!

Thanks, Rodney. You've been a delight.

Jimmy: Why don't you just say, "I don't want to go to your dumb gym anymore?"

Gretchen: Because I don't want Rodney out there judging me when I don't show up for 10:00 a.m. Pilates class.

Jimmy: You've never been to a 10:00 a.m. anything.

Gretchen: My flight's soon.

Can we continue this when I come back from parental purgatory?

Jimmy: Are your folks really that awful?

Gretchen: Just uptight and lame.

They act like I don't have my sh1t together.

Jimmy: Those clothes aren't even fully dry.

Gretchen: I'm gonna go borrow your toothbrush.

(Edgar sighs)

Jimmy: Uh, the trash goes from inside to outside, not the other way around.

Edgar: Oh, I've been trying this recycling thing.

If I save up enough money, I can buy Ambien from this Web site.

Jimmy: Isn't the V.A. supposed to give you drugs for your... for your war brain stuff?

Edgar: I don't want to use up resources when there are vets out there with real problems.

Jimmy: You're trading soda cans for black market pharmaceuticals.

That is a problem!

Edgar: Fine.

I'll go talk to them.

Gretchen: And I'm out.

Jimmy: All right, just let me wash this mask off, and then we can go.

Gretchen: Oh, no, no, no.

I'll just take an Uber.

Jimmy: I'm headed that direction anyway.

Gretchen: Jimmy, you're not driving me to the airport. That's ridiculous.

Jimmy: Look, I promise there will be no mushy, curbside stuff, okay? I won't even come to a complete stop. You can just tuck and roll, all right? Give me a couple of minutes.

♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway I'm gonna leave you anyway ♪
♪ Gonna leave you anyway. ♪

Becca: You cheated on Paul?!

Lindsay: Shh.

Don't whisper-yell at me!

Becca: How can you even live with yourself?

Lindsay: I can't!

I feel so bad, I can't eat or watch any shows with adultery.

That's all my shows.

I'm getting nosebleeds from the guilt.

Becca: Nosebleeds?

Lindsay: Also, I lied.

I can totally eat.

Woman: Ladies, please keep it down.

Lindsay: It's not fair.

You don't know what it's like to yearn for the touch of another.

Becca: Jimmy tried to kiss me.

Lindsay (Loudly): What?!

Becca: But I...

Oh, I said no... because I love my husband.

Lindsay: Did you want to?

Becca: I took a vow.

Marriage means being in it 24/7 from the moment when you wake up in the morning, and you see that red, curly happy trail, to at night when he rolls off of you and asks if you've had your "gazz" yet.

Lindsay: He asks you after he rolls off you?

Becca: The point is, I restrain myself because I am not an animal. After this class, you are gonna come clean with Paul.

Lindsay: I can't tell him.

Becca: Lindsay, you're not gonna tell him?

Lindsay: Ow! Ow! Bec, stop!

Becca: You need me to make you tell him? You gonna tell him, Lindsay?

You gonna tell him?

Lindsay: Ow!

Becca: You know I can make you tell him, can make you!

Lindsay: No. Fine! (Whispers): Fine.

Fine, I'll tell him. (Gasps)

Becca: You can continue the yoga now.

♪ I got three, four gallons of Hennessy ♪
♪ I got all my dawgs at the V.I.P... ♪

Jimmy: Cheers. Fellows! How is it?

Yeah. Are you here to see a black movie, as well?

Honey Nutz: We just call it a movie.

Jimmy: Where's Sam?

Shitstain: Had a meeting. He's on the board of the Angelino Heights Restoration Committee.

Honey Nutz: What are you doing here?

Jimmy: I like to yell out character inconsistencies, structural flaws, and keep a general humorous running commentary. This is the only place I can do that.

Shitstain: To be fair, we do like to go to Beverly Hills to see a Wes Anderson movie, so...

Honey Nutz: I like it when they clap for Bill Murray.

Shitstain: Yeah, he's funny.

Honey Nutz: Yeah, yeah.

Shitstain: Okay, he's funny.

Jimmy: I've just dropped Gretchen off at the airport, as well, so I was in the hood anyway.

Honey Nutz: Where does that bitch think she flying? We supposed to meet her ass tomorrow morning.

Jimmy: Oh, that's impossible.

She's gone home for, like, a week.

Shitstain: Hey, it's Shitstain.

Where are you? Oh, oh, she's here.

Yeah, she's headed to the museum with her parents.

Yeah, yeah, Sam tried to drag us to that.

Heard the Rauschenberg pretty tight.

Okay, word.

Honey Nutz: Mm. Okay, so she told you she was flying out of town?

Jimmy: Yeah.

Honey Nutz: And now she at a museum?

Shitstain: Why would she lie to you about seeing her folks? Have you met them?

Jimmy: No.

Honey Nutz: Oh, sh1t.


Shitstain: Yo.

Honey Nutz: She trying to hide you!

Shitstain: It's just like Richie and Margot in The Royal Tenenbaums.

Honey Nutz: Right. sh1t.

Look, I wouldn't want to tell my mom I'm dating Draco Malfoy, either.

Shitstain: Draco.

Both: Draco!

Shitstain: That's...

(Honey Nutz laughs)


It's butter in that?

Honey Nutz: Oh, yeah, there's butter in there. Right.

Shitstain: Oh, we good, we good.

Edgar: So, for a while, I started drinking generic vodka till I passed out, but then I'd still have the same nightmares, only in the dream, I'd be drunk and way less coordinated.

Caseworker: I am so sorry, brother.

Edgar: Yeah, now I'm scared to go to sleep because I wake up super angry.

Caseworker: Sleep to rage. It's the worst.

I used to tell my wife to duct-tape pillows to my hands in case I woke up swinging. (Chuckles)

Edgar: So, my roommate says that I have a serious problem, and that you guys should cover all my meds.

Caseworker: Usually, I have to turn down a lot of folks, but you seem like a perfect candidate for help.

Real quick, who is this roommate?

Edgar: Oh, Jimmy. He's a novelist from Britain.

He lets me live with him in exchange for cooking and housework.

Caseworker: You have a job?

Tight. It can be so tough for vets to find work...

Edgar: Oh, no, he doesn't pay me.

Caseworker: Cool.

So he thinks the U.S. government should cover your expenses...

Edgar: Mm-hmm.

Caseworker: while you work for free?

Edgar: Oh, no.

He's my best friend.

Caseworker: Cool.

Okay, very cool. Soldier, have you ever heard of Domestic Civilian Transference Syndrome By Proxy?

Edgar: Mm-mm.

Caseworker: It's my only copy, but trust me, it's highly true.

You need to nip this in the bud. Tonight, you sit this so-called roommate down and you say, "Hey, man, I was in the sh1t while you were at home watching telly. If my nightmares are too scary for you, maybe you need to pay for my meds!"

Edgar: Damn straight.

Caseworker: Yeah, you tell him that.

Edgar: I will tell him that.

I will! Thank you.

Caseworker: You're welcome, soldier.

Edgar (Mutters): Watching telly...

(Muttering continues)

Caseworker: Number 97.

Paul: You're home.

Lindsay: We need to talk about something. This has been eating away at me, but the fact is...

I realized I don't really know what you do all day.

(Chuckles) Tell me about this... weird thing.

Paul: The recumbent?

Lindsay: Yeah! How does it work?

Paul: Well, if you really want the total experience, I can always pull out the tandem.

Lindsay: The what now?

Paul: A semi-reclined position provides broader distribution of body weight, and alas for better blood flow to the anus and testicles.

Aw, heck yeah! Here's the gang!

Mimi, Connor, this is my wife Lindsay.

(Chuckles) Last one to Starbucks is an uprighter! (Groans loudly)

We should let them win. Connor's life-coaching business just went under, and Mimi has impetigo.

All right, here I come, Mimi. Look out.

(Bicycle bell dings)


Jimmy: Nice use of negative space.

Gretchen: What are you doing here?!

Jimmy: What are you doing here?

I just dropped you at the airport!

Gretchen: What? No, you didn't.

Jimmy: Yes, I did.

Gretchen: What?! What are you talking about? No, that was a dream you had.

All right, fine. This is so dumb.

So, I am waiting at the gate as they deplane the flight before mine, and all of a sudden, guess who gets off?

My friggin' parents! And I'm like, "What?!

I thought you guys wanted me to come visit."

So dumb. Gretchen, you nerd.

Jimmy: Stop.

Gretchen: All right, I lied.

But Vanessa and Fred are such a bummer!

I didn't want to subject you to their passive-aggressive sh1t.

Jimmy: Right, so you packed and had me drop you off at the airport?

Gretchen: Did I really pack?

I just put some damp laundry and toilet paper into a suitcase.

Open your eyes, Jimmy.

Jimmy: Right, well, I have to meet the people that created this nightmare of a person.

Gretchen: Oh, I would, but we have to leave.

I'm taking them to the airport.

Jimmy: I thought you just picked them up.

Gretchen: It turns out they can't stay. Dad is having emergency back surgery tomorrow at Johns Hopkins.

He is having his L7 fused, and they just had a cancellation.

The procedure's experimental, but Dr. Pablo's the best, and a slot just opened up. I am serious.

Jimmy: Mm. Well, I'm not leaving until you produce these monsters.

Gretchen: All right.

You asked for it.

Jimmy: You're not art.

Gretchen: Jimmy? Vanessa and Fred.

Mom: Jimmy, hi.

Jimmy: Hi.

Mom: Nice to meet you. So sorry we have to run.

Dad: I'm having a surgery, Jimmy.

Jimmy: Yes. Yes, Gretchen said. Okay, good luck with that. So glad I got to meet you. So I'll see you later?

Gretchen: Uh, nah, I have a work thing. Call you tomorrow?

Jimmy: Okay.

Gretchen (Echoing): My dad's having back surgery... at Johns Hopkins. He's having his L7 fused.

Dr. Pablo's the best. Back surgery...

Johns Hopkins... Back surgery...

Johns Hopkins... Back surgery...

John Hopkins... Dr. Pablo...

Procedure's experimental... experimental... experimental.

Dad: Well, they said that it's, like, all tropical plants they've got.

Mom: Oh, okay.

Jimmy: Who are you? Where's Gretchen?

Mom: Oh, look, hon. It's the guy with the accent.

Dad: That lady said we were on a hidden camera show.

What channel will this be on?

Mom: Oh, I bet it's nine.

Dad: Four? No, four, right?

Mom: No. No, I bet you a week of dishes it's channel nine.

Dad: Nine?!

Mom: Nine. Nine. Nine.

Dad: Four. Four. Four.

Paul: And as I like to say, once you pedal on your back, you never go back. To pedaling normally.


(Lindsay laughs weakly)

Lindsay: This is really nice.

Paul: Well, there's more where that came from. Were you serious about seeing what I do for fun?

Lindsay: Yes.

Paul (Laughs): Well, hold on to your hat.

(Lindsay groans)

(Engine sputtering)

Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached an altitude of 75 feet.

If you look out the right side of the plane, you can see the San Gabriels. Those on the left can catch a glimpse of my beautiful wife Lindsay. (Chuckles)

Darren (Over radio): Paul, you know that sub-hundred elevation is for westbound traffic only.

Paul: Roger that. Sorry, Darren.

Climbing. Did you know that four American presidents were home-brewers? Can you guess?

George Washington, Thomas Jefferson, James Madison, and...?

The answer is Barack Obama! Uh...


Lindsay: Huh?

Oh. I'm fine.

Keep talking beer.

(Paul sighs)

Edgar: Jimmy, we need to talk.

Jimmy: Gretchen was so scared of me meeting her parents that she hired fake parents. Am I really Draco Malfoy?

Edgar: I just talked to the V.A., and...

Am I just some unpaid servant who lives here for free?

Jimmy: That's a concise way of putting it.

Edgar: My caseworker says maybe you should be paying for my meds.

Jimmy: Right. Listen to me, my friend. You bought into a long con.

Society screwed you over, and we owe you for that.

I, personally, do not owe you, but a sort of collective "we" does. And you need your meds so you can shake off some of the damage done by Cheney's fictional yellowcake uranium. So, you turn around, you go back to the V.A., and you demand your due!

(Gretchen sighs)

Fred: 15, love.

Let's go, sweetie.

Vanessa: Gretchen, your backhand has completely disintegrated.

Gretchen: Sorry, Mommy.

Vanessa: Seven years of training with Andrés for nothing. (Scoffs)


Fred: You can do it, sweetie.

Gretchen: Sorry, Mommy.

(Jimmy mouthing)

Jimmy: Hello, darling. Sorry I'm late.

Mwah. Hello. I'm Jimmy Shive-Overly.

Gretchen's boyfriend.

Fred: Oh, well, hello.

I'm Fred.

Vanessa: Vanessa.

Please join us. In her typical way, Gretchen has told us nothing about you.

Jimmy: Ugh!

(Chuckles) Milk.

Gretchen... always ordering milk. Sometimes double milks.

I actually sometimes wonder if maybe she drinks too much milk.

(Jimmy laughs)

Vanessa: So, Jimmy, where are you from?

Gretchen: London.

The fancy part.

Fred: And what do you do?

Gretchen: He's a novelist. Published, very well-regarded.


Vanessa: And, Gretchen, you're still doing that music thing?

Fred: Who's that skinny boy you represent?

Jimmy: Shitstain?

Gretchen: No!

Josh Groban is who he meant.

Vanessa: How did you two meet?

Gretchen: At a fund-raiser.

It was... animal-related.

Fred: Uh-huh, Gretchen does so much charity work.

Jimmy: Oh, she does love animals.

Tell your mom how you got your cat.

Gretchen: Jimmy, it was so nice of you to stop by, but I know you have that meeting. I'll walk you out.

Vanessa: What meeting?

Gretchen: Movie producers.

From Hollywood. They are turning his book into a movie starring Zach Braff and that woman from the show you like.

Vanessa: Scandal?

Gretchen: Yes, Scandal. Jimmy, I bet that driver has been waiting outside for a while now.

You should go.

Jimmy: Okay. Nice to meet you both.

Okay, none of this is true. I'm not from the fancy part of London, I'm from the bad part of Manchester.

Gretchen: Stop.

Jimmy: I am an author.

Talented but wildly underappreciated.

I had to follow Gretchen here today, only to witness her mother bullying her during a tennis match.

You're right about her backhand, by the way... it's appalling.

Vanessa: You're telling me how to speak to Gretchen?

Jimmy: You've never spoken to the real Gretchen. The real Gretchen runs publicity for some of the biggest rap acts in town.

The real Gretchen doesn't drink milk or take ballet classes.

In fact, she just cancelled her gym membership so she'd have money for cigarettes.

Fred: You smoke?

Jimmy: Sure, she hasn't been to the dentist in years and lives off 7-Eleven hot dogs, but she is brave and spontaneous.

And that Gretchen is so paralyzed with the fear of disappointing you that you don't actually know her at all.

I feel sorry for you two. You will never know the brilliant, beautiful mess that is your daughter.

(Gretchen chuckles nervously)

Gretchen: Daddy, I...

Fred: (Sighs) Just take us back to our hotel. And... finish your milk.

Caseworker: I really wish I could help, but funds are tight.

Congress wants to pay for the war, not the casualties.

Edgar: I'm not asking for a medal or a parade, just a good night's sleep.

(Caseworker sighs)

Caseworker: Uncle! I give in. (Chuckles) I will fill out your paperwork and find the money for your meds.

Edgar: Thank you.

Caseworker: Where is it that you're living?

Edgar: Uh, Silver Lake.

Caseworker: Silver Lake. Ooh-la-la.

Hey, Jerry, bad news, you're gonna have to turn in your hook.

Jerry: But-but I use it to pick things up.

Caseworker: No, man. Stuff's gonna stay on the ground. This hipster's having bad "dweams."

Edgar: I didn't...

(Gunfire over TV)


Gretchen: Why would you do that?!

My dad didn't say another word to me in the car, and now they're changing their flight so they leave tomorrow!

What is wrong with you?!

Jimmy: Sorry, wouldn't you rather have a fractured, combative relationship with your parents that's based on truth than this pleasant artificial relationship based on lies?

Gretchen: No.

Jimmy: Well, then you should've been more explicit about that.

Gretchen: They're my family!

I get to lie to them till I'm old and they're dead, and you don't get a vote! I would never tell your dad to read your book.

Jimmy: Yeah, because he wouldn't let you through the door 'cause you're a redhead and he's hated the lrish ever since the IRA blew up his favorite chip shop. Look, I'm sorry.

Forgive me for valuing honesty.

Gretchen: This is about you controlling and bullying everybody to behave the way you think they should. I knew you were insensitive and manipulative, but you're mean, Jimmy.

You're a mean person.

Jimmy: Well, at least I am a person!



Jimmy: Hey, um...

Gretchen: I'm done.

I'm tagging out.

Jimmy: What?

Of-of this argument?

Gretchen: No, Jimmy.

Of this. I told you I don't do relationships, and yet here we are in one.

I feel... I feel like this train is speeding up, and this may be my last chance to hop off before any serious injury.

Jimmy: Speak English.

Gretchen: Good-bye, Jimmy. Sorry!

You're right, I'm not a person.

(Door slams)

Paul: Those three stars are Orion's Belt.

See how he looks like a man with a club?

(Australian accent): G'day, Linds.

I'm Orion, the mighty hunter.

(Both laugh)

Hmm. What was that for?

Lindsay: Nothing.

Just... you. You weirdo.

(Phone chimes)

(Gasps) I'm sorry. I have to go.

Gretchen needs me. Thanks for the day.

Have fun with your stars.

Paul: They're everyone's stars.

(Door opens, closes)

Edgar: Where's Gretchen?

And why are you cooking?

Jimmy: It's over.

Lasted longer than anyone would've guessed, huh?

Edgar: No. What happened?

Jimmy: Uh, can we not talk about it?

I-I need to just... just not.

(Sighs) You hungry?

Edgar: Yeah, I-I could eat.

Jimmy: No go on the pills, huh?

Edgar: (Scoffs) Nope.

Jimmy: We'll go down there tomorrow and sort it out.

Edgar: R-Really?


Jimmy: I have no idea how to cook.

Edgar: What have you been doing all this time?

Jimmy: Just, uh, stirring ketchup in the pan.

Edgar: Okay. Okay. Um... that's a good base.

Jimmy: Yeah?

Edgar: Yeah.

Uh, pinch of salt, throw it in there.

Jimmy: Pinch-pinch of salt.

Edgar: And then add a little bit of, uh, olive oil, two, three counts worth.

Now stir it in. Stir it in nice and gently. Stir it.

And, uh, keep stirring, keep stirring.