02x11 - A Rapidly Mutating Virus



(whispering): Okay.

♪ Dorothy and Gretchen ♪
♪ Sayin' hello in the mornin'. ♪




I'll see you later.


Can you get rid of that?

Guns freak me out.

950 grams.

They say the human soul weighs 21 grams.

Never mind. I'll do it.

Hey, that's your best garbage bag.

You going somewhere?

I'm just staying at Lindsay's for a bit.

She needs help with everything.

See ya.

♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway ♪
♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway ♪
♪ Gonna leave you anyway. ♪
♪ I see you callin' ♪
♪ But I just keep stallin' ♪
Uh-huh, uh-huh
♪ New phone, who 'dis? ♪
Who 'dis?

Killer hook, Linds.


And guess what.

We're going to Fire 103 today to drop the song on Trace's show.


Well, I better get back to it.

Oh, creating a human life.

I got to tell you, it is so fulfilling.

But making a grammatical nightmare of a song with Gretchen's psychopath client, that's a really big deal, you know, for you.

Oh, hey.

Tomorrow I'm eating runny cheese and going on an inverted roller coaster.

Want to come?


Oh, sorry, I forgot.

You can't ever do anything fun because you're ruining your body with some ginger-headed parasite.



In five months, I will be on a Disney cruise with my family, while you're at divorce court, looking back on the time someone took pity on you and let you sing on their stupid song.

"New Phone Who 'Dis" is not a stupid song.

It's about texting!



You weren't lying.

Was that 2010?

Giant slalom.

So what happened?

Well, here was me a couple of months later at the Winter X Games, out of my gourd on a couple of bong loads of Shaun White's sour diesel.


Well, you are skiing the general idea of the course.

You're pole adjacent. Christ!

Oh, God!

Oh, that is... Oh, no!

I broke my leg in a dozen places.

If you listen close, you can hear Brent Musburger gag back a puke.

So I hung it up, and then my grandpa died, and I took over his bar.

Life is long.

That it is, my gimpy friend.

So, skiers.

You guys must have large feet in order to balance properly, right?


My, what big, silly feet you have.


Fitting boots to those would give Giles Kevinson a heart attack.

Oh, a Buckle Your Shoes deep cut.

I'm so mad that we never got a happy ending between Heathstead and Beatrix.

You've not seen the holiday special?

There's a holiday special?

Yes, I own a copy.

What happens? Do they kiss?


Don't say anything.

Go get it. I have to watch it now.

I doubt you have an all-region DVD player.

I don't even know what that is!

Can I come over and watch?

Come on, come on.

Come on.


Give me a second.

Come on, come on.

Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.

Come on! Come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on, come on.

Okay, let's go.


♪ New phone, who 'dis? ♪
Who 'dis, who 'dis, who 'dat?
♪ I feel you textin' ♪
♪ But you get no sextin' ♪
♪ New phone, who 'dis? ♪
Who 'dis, who 'dis, who 'dat?


Okay, that was, uh, "New Phone Who 'Dis?"

The first solo single by my man Sam Dresden.

Caller, you're on Fire 103.

Tell me what you think.

Woman: Wack.


Thoughts on Dresden's new song?

Woman 2: Wack as hell.

You're on with Trace. Go.

Man: A step back creatively.

Without his former collaborators, Dresden leans on typewriter drums and almost unmotivated tempo shifts.

Not helped by the thin female vocals.

He said I sounded thin!

Man, my tempo shifts are unmotivated on purpose.

Gretchen Cutler, Caliber Publicity.

I think it's important to consider side projects separate from the main artists.

Uh, Temple of the Dog, Chris Gaines.

These are really old references.

I'll look stuff up. Anyway, context.

Trace: I went to commercial as soon as you started talking, and your client bailed on my show.


♪ Rims on layaway, y'all, rims on layaway. ♪

Could you transfer some funds from the account ending in 3278?

Woman: I'm sorry, sir.

That checking account is overdrawn.

Hey, babe!

I can have one.

I'm celebrating.

Lindsay's song totally tanked on the radio.

I need you to get me some food.

Write this down.


Two beef and cheddars from Arby's, a birthday cake, Red Vines, Skinnylicious Salmon Rolls from Cheesecake Factory, a large popcorn from AMC... just buy the ticket and leave.

Oh, man, I don't have any cash.

You never have cash lately. Just put it on the card.

We need the points for the cruise anyway.

Oh, yeah, doy.

(baby-talking): Thanks for the food, Daddy!


Why would you let me do that show?

Because you wanted to.

You said, and I quote, "Get your negligent ass down to Fire 103. We doin' a show."

My blood sugar was low!

You're supposed to give me some goddamn almonds!

I am doing the best I can, Sam!

Then do someone else's best, like Hillary Clinton or Tori Amos circa Little Earthquakes.

What are you on right now, honestly?

And don't lie to me.


And it's not even working anymore.

This entire feud is your fault, and those dis tracks contain some sh1t that, quite frankly, I'm having some problems recovering from.

Honey Nutz and Shitstain literally haven't said anything about you that isn't true.

They said your grandma's a whore, you don't have the head shape for a five-panel hat, your built-ins aren't original, you're not licensed to teach Meisner...

Hold up, hold up!

They said my built-ins aren't original?

How did they know? Listen, they nailed sh1t back then instead of using dowels, Gretchen.

There were no dowels!

There were no dowels!


There were no dowels!

Hey, you're still coming to my improv grad performance, right?

Oh, how could I squander the opportunity to see the gifted thespians of the Wednesday 3:00 p.m. show?

So I'm going to a barbecue tomorrow with Dorothy's old team.

I'm a little nervous.

Just mimic everything they do like a rapidly mutating virus.

I think I'm just gonna be myself.

(scoffs) That's the worst version of you.

So, Gretchen told me she's staying at Lindsay's.

Something going on?

We're fine. Go away.

(toilet flushes)

Go, go, go.

Heathstead: Here's the last of the wellies.

Oh, look.

It's starting to snow.

(bell chiming)

Is this it?

Beatrix, can I fetch you a pair of wellies?

Oh, Heathstead, Oh, my God.

I'm not here for bleeding boots.

Well, Beatrix, it's been a right pleasure buckling your shoes.

What are you doing?!

I forgot one thing.

Do it, do it!

They're kissing. (laughs)

Jimmy, they're kissing.

Oh, my God!

Oh, finally.


Look, the truth is, I have a girlfriend.

Who? Greasy-hair Queen of Dragons?


Oh, Jesus.

So, I'm gonna go.

And I'm gonna take this DVD and this DVD player and this HDMI cord.


I don't know how I let it go so far, but I am in big trouble, Paul, with a girl from the Internet.

What girl?

Fun! Great shot, nerd!

I'm a money slave.

A money what?

A money slave.

I let a girl from the Internet control my finances.

It's like S and M, but instead of physical pain, it's financial pain.

Little pig boy, pay for my Invisalign.

Send money, loser!

That's my goddess, Kasia.

In the last four months, I've given her, like, a hundo.



Nice fart, Paul!

Real poopy!

I'm ending it. Kasia's gone rogue.

If I don't give her $15K, she's gonna tell Becca.

You got to help me.

We're family.

Okay, of course, Vernon.

Oh, geez.

Thanks, Paul.

When I was 12, me and my buddy, Slider, jacked off next to each other on a camping trip.

Why are you telling me that?


Just memories.

You're here!

Hey, guys, you remember Edgar.


Hey, man.

Hey. Uh, hi.

I, uh, I brought this.

Oh, wine, thanks.

Oh, damn it, my back!

Are you okay?

Oh, yeah.

It just hurts 'cause my dick's so big.


Nah, he's always showing us his tiny dick, and the bit is he pretends like it's all big.

So your back doesn't hurt?

No, actually it does.

Last week, my neighbor's pit bull attacked me when I was carrying a pizza.


That actually wasn't a bit.

Yeah, it's really bad... I have to sleep in a water brace.

Probably end up in a wheelchair.

Oh, my God, I'm sorry.

(laughing): I'm just kidding, man.

That was a bit.

Oh, there's the team that I coached...

"Beverley Hills with an Extra E."

I should probably go say hi.

You good?

Oh, y-yeah, yeah, totally.

Oh, hey.

You know Edgar?

He's the one putting it in Dorothy and taking it back out again.

Nah, (chuckles) I usually just leave it in.


So, anyway, I'm putting this packet together for the new Hee Haw reboot.

Man, that...

(knocking on window)

Goddamn it.


Jimmy: Hello.

Red licorice vodka?

Were you expecting Chris Hansen?

Why are you here?

Last night, a certifiable fox hit on me, and I did not respond.

I masturbated furiously afterwards, but only after I'd rejected her.

You need to stop.

It's like you have amnesia.

Every day, you think things are gonna be different, and I'll just be happy.

Well, maybe you can understand this.

I feel nothing.

About anything.

Dogs, candy, old Blondie records, nachos, you, us, nothing.

So for the last time, please go.


Trace: You're listening to Clockin' Out with Trace on Fire 103.

Trace: Yeah, welcome back now.

Everybody's been talking about what happened on yesterday's show.

So when Sam called up, looking to apologize, I was like, "You need to come down here, man-to-man, face-to-Trace."

I wasn't trying to be disrespectful by walking out yesterday.

Trace: Hold up, hold up.

I got a surprise for you.

In the building... S-stain and Honey Nutz!

Live on Fire 103, 'cause we keeps it real here.


(Trace grunts)

So, Sam, you had something to say?

I feel bad for walking out yesterday.

But I'm happy that I'm here now, so I can tell you... what nasty mother (bleep) y'all are!

(bleep) you, Shitstain!

(bleep) you, Honey Nutz!

And (bleep) you, Trace!


Almonds, Sam, almonds, almonds.

I don't want no goddamn almonds.

Well, caller, you on with Trace, go.

Woman: I mean, Sam, you coming off like a bitch.

Who you calling a bitch?

I will kill you.

Come down to the station.

Fine, what's the address?

Oh, you don't have Google?

Look it up, you poor-as-shit, no-search-engine-having hand-job prostitute!

I am a one in a generation.

A disrupter.

You know how in that Charlie Chaplin movie, there's this ho, walking and talking on a cell phone even though it's 1928?

I'm that future-ass cell phone ho!

Trace, I'm out here every day, changing the face of everything... music, art, amusement parks, farm-to-table, claymation, laser shows...

Man: Oh, whoa, careful, man, that's medicinal.

(East L.A. accent): They call me Dr. Weed.

They call me Dr. Weed...!

Boy, I'm gonna get you some water.

They call me Dr. Weed, bitch!

(others laugh)

No way Dorothy doesn't love this.

Hey, come hang out.

Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten so messed up.

It happens, let's go.

I'm so over this party.

I'm sorry.

I apologize.

From the bottom of my...

Jesus Christ, Edgar, put those away.

Dr. Weed... is going to live... forever!



I only have one thing to say to you fools, and it is this... how dare you?!

You stopped coming to sessions.

All of my success is for us.

Because unlike you, I'm loyal as sh1t.

Then why didn't you show up to Jaclyn's dental school graduation?

I told you, I don't like hanging out with those rich USC assholes.

Your dad is a lawyer for CBS.

(tires screeching)

Which one of y'all is Sam?

Are you that bitch that called the station?


Oh, no!

He got that Denzel face.

Size her up, man.

Stop it!

Honey Nutz: Get up, Stain!

Stop it! Aah!

Honey Nutz: You got to fight, Stain! Get up, Stain!


Oh, I'm sorry.

Oh... I'm ready for you now.

"Can't you afford a search engine."

(taunts indistinctly)


Let's go!

(car engine revs)

You okay, man?

(tires screeching)

That was crazy.

That little one was kind of hot, though.

Sam: Guys, I'm sorry.

Shitstain: Yeah, me, too, man.

Honey Nutz: I'm sorry, too.

Take me to my Volt.


Honey Nutz: That little one can swing, man.

I mean, who does Lindsay think she is?

She's not even a trained singer.

(cell phone buzzes)

I'm the one who was almost on Kids Incorporated.

(cell phone continues buzzing)

Ugh, that bitch.

I know, right?!

Can't even believe we're sisters sometimes.

(Vernon moans)

(moans whiningly)

Uh, uh, honey?


Honey, if you could...?

We're closed.

Why are your lips all red?

Oh, flavored vodka.


You want some coffee?


How about some Scotch?


Hey, uh, wait, Dor...

Dorothy, wait.

Hey, I didn't do anything your friends don't do, and you spent seven years with them.

No, I wasted seven years on them.

I woke up one day in a rotting Victorian with three smelly dudes.

And then you came along, a new person, who's honest and sweet and rare.

But you know what, maybe I just make bad decisions.

I mean, I bought a chocolate fountain... who does that?

I don't want to be a bad decision.

I'm 33, I need my life to move forward.

Uh, uh, Jimmy told me that I shouldn't be...

Okay, I should have known.

Don't ever listen to Jimmy's advice about me.


Do you still like me?

Of course I do.

So much that it sucks.


That fight really scared me, Gretch.

Lying in that trash, my life flashed before my eyes.


Following Smash Mouth around Europe.

Negative after negative customer service interaction.


More dick.

I realized I really need to get my sh1t together.


Hey, are you okay?

When I pulled a gun on that girl, coked out of my face, I suddenly felt this strange feeling.

I was bored.

You were bored almost getting murdered by female gang ladies?

That's really messed up, isn't it?


This isn't working anymore.

I'm sorry you don't feel anything, Gretchen.

Me, too.

(woman laughs)


Right, let's play... a hypothetical.

All right, so let's say I was your boyfriend.


Could I drink here for free?

(scoffs) Of course.

Could I have my own stool?


With a plaque with my name on it.

Wait, in this fantasy, you get everything you want?


Free drinks, your own stool.


What do I get?

Well, you have to ask for what you want.

Would you dedicate your book to me?


Where would your plaque be?

Well, here.



Look close.

Can you picture it?

It'll be so beautiful.

I should go.


Night, Nina.

Night, Jimmy.

I forgot one thing.

♪ Find yourself now ♪
♪ In the shade ♪