01x00 - Pilot

[bunniefuu]

[ Shuffling, rattling ]

Man:
hey, you millionaires!

Get out of that garbage!

[ Knocking on door ]

Coming.

[ Man crying ]

[ Crying ]
hi, hi.
Hi.

Oh, no, did I wake you?
I'm sorry.

That's okay.
What's wrong?

[ Sniffs ]
laurie threw me out.

[ Sobs, cries ]

Oh, god.

There's no warning,
nothing.

We were just
sitting having dinner,

Talking about our day...
[ Sniffs ]

That's horrible.
I don't know what to say.

Just gets up, starts throwing
my stuff in the hallway.

Oh, god.
[ Sighs ]

I must have retraced
my steps a thousand times,

Just trying to figure out
if it was something I did.

But everything just
seemed so perfect

Right from
our first date.

[ Sobs ]

[ Crying ] order
anything you'd like.

I think I'm gonna
have the duck.

Waiter, is there anything
you'd recommend?

[ Cries ]

Oh, laurie!
[ Sobs ]

Hey, is it okay
if I sleep here tonight?

That's a problem.
I don't have a bed for --

Hey, doesn't
this couch fold out?

No, I don't think so.

Oh, sure it does.
Come on. Look.

Yeah, it does.
Come on!

Come on!

Thanks, man.

[ Nasal voice ]
hey, everybody.

Don't panic.

I mean, I'm only
crushing your head!

Oh, working stiffs.

Uh, say, boys, how's it
going down at the plant,

And how are those
helmets doing?

Not so good now
I'm crushing your head.

I crush your head.

Crush, crush, crush.

Hey, you know what you are?

You're a yuppie.
That's right.

I just made that word up.

It's my word.
And...

I'm crushing your head, yuppie.

Squish, squish.

Where do you idiots come from

To get your heads
so terribly crushed?

Well, thank you very much
for a wonderful evening.

I had a lovely time.
Good night.

Man: so, are you gonna
sleep with me or what?!

No, I'm not going
to sleep with you.

I hadn't thought about
sleeping with you, actually.

It's because I have a
cabbage for a head, isn't it?

Um...

No.

I don't judge people on
their race, creed, or color.

Unless they have
a cabbage for a head,

Which I do.

Well, um,
I hardly noticed.

Someone had to point
it out to me.

Which they're awful
quick to on account of
it's so freaky to 'em.

Like at the restaurant.
Hoo-hoo.

I don't think anyone
would have noticed

If you hadn't screamed, "I bet
we got such a shitty table

Because I have
a cabbage for a head!"

So, uh, what's the word
on that good night nookie?

I don't think so.

I had a bad childhood.

Oh!

Did you?

Yeah, the other kids
wouldn't let me join

In all their playful games.

Oh, that's terrible.

My dad the farmer got drunk,
tried to harvest my head.

Could be true.

I'm so sorry.

So, how 'bout it?

The mommy-and-the-daddy
dance?

A flat no.

[ Scoffs ] hey, I'd do you
if you had turnip tits.

Look...

I don't love you.

I don't even like you,
all right?

Doesn't really matter.

Look, if I slept with you,

It would only be
out of pity, okay?

Hey, I'm the king
of the mercy f*ck.

I'm sorry.

At least let me come in
and water my head.

Otherwise, I'll go bald.

Boo-hoo, boo-hoo,
boo-hoo!

All right, you can come in
for five minutes,

But that's it --
I'm tired.

Yeah, in and out
real quick.

Then no!

[ Wails ]

All right,
one glass of water.

Hey, listen, uh...

If mr. Baker's dough
doesn't rise,

Don't blame me.

Blame my cabbage head.

I was reading the obituaries
the other day, june.

Oh, no.

Oh, yes, and I see that miss
ida kinkaid has passed away.

Oh.

Cancer.

Sad.
Sad.

Cancer.

Oh, sad, cancer.
Oh, sad, oh, dear.

Oh, cancer is sad.

It's a very sad thing.
Oh, cancer,
cancer, cancer.

Oh, and my
daughter janie...

Oh, is janie dead?

Oh, no, she's
getting married, dear.

Oh, how wonderful
for you!

Hi, mom.
Oh, hi, son.

Have you
met my son rusty?
No.

He's finished school, but
he hasn't found a job.

He doesn't know what
direction he's going in,

But once he does, he'll go
in that direction directly.

Get off my back!

Oh.

Was I
on your back, son?

A little bit.

I'm sorry.

Have you met
my friend mrs. Wilson?

No.

No, I haven't.

Well, her daughter janie
is getting married.

Do you know janie?

No, I don't.

But if she's anything
like her mother...

I'm sure she's
quite ravishing.

Ohh.

Mom, I'm hungry.

Are you hungry?
Oh, well, then.

I better get you
something to eat, then.

Oh, well, let me help
you in the kitchen there, june.

No, no, no.
You stay here.

Yes, you stay put.

Now, rusty, you make sure
mrs. Wilson doesn't get bored.

Okay.

Oh.

So, uh, where have you been
hiding all these years?

Oh. Oh, rusty, I haven't
exactly been hiding.

I've been writing for the
church newsletter for years.

Wow.

I think words are just
so, so...sensual.

Oh! Are you a bit
of a scribbler, dear?

Yeah, I've got some poems on
restlessness in my jean jacket.

I'll read you --
no.

Oh, I'm sorry, I just never
read a friend's work.

So, I'm a friend,
then, am i?

Oh, I'm fond
of the whole family, dear.

It's not much of
a family, is it?

Just me and my mom.

And I'm the black sheep.

Does that scare you?

No.

I...want...you.

Jun-n-n-e!

I've got a fistful
of finger sandwichs.

Oh.

[ Laughs nervously ]

Oh, so tell me, whatcha gonna
do now that janie is dead?

Mom,
I'm thirsty.

Are you thirsty?

Oh, I bring sandwiches.

I don't bring
anything to drink.

Where was my head?!

Oh! I'll get you something.
What would you like, son?

I'll have
a root beer, mom.

And for you, dear?

And for the lady,
a brandy alexander.

Brandy alexander-r-r.

Oh, my!

What a lovely view of the
construction your mother

Has across the street!

My, the light really brings
out the blue in your hair.

It's just a rinse.

It's hot in here,
isn't it?

I can't recall
a hotter january.

Here, let me help you
with your sweater clip.

Oops, the wind.

Oh.

I'm on fire.

Let me run through
your sprinkler.

Stop it, rusty, stop it!

You don't want
an old relic like me.

You need a younger gal.

I've dated younger women...
Women , .

They're children.

It's you I want.

I couldn't find any brandy
anywhere for the life of me.

But I did manage to find a tray
of martinis in the crisper.

Mom, there's a off chance I
might want to watch tv later.

Oh, then I better go leaf
through the "tv guide"

With a highlighter, then.

[ Moaning ]
oh, rusty.

How can it work?

You have no job,
no future.

Sure, we might have to live
in the garage for a while...

But that's okay.
I got my own little fridge.

They'd laugh us
out of town.

You're right.

We'll have
to run away together.

My ankles would never
make the trip.

I would carry you
to the ends of the earth.

Oh.

Well, look who
happened to drop by.

I found her
pacing on the porch.

You know mrs. Beamish,
don't you, rusty?

Hello, barbara.

Barbara?

Helen?

Rusty!

Uh, I see you
got the walker.

Yes, thank you
very much.

I'm sorry
about your hip.

It was worth it.

Well, rusty, I guess
you won't be running

Through
my sprinkler anymore.

Oh, the sprinkler!

Oh, the water!

Oh, the fire!
Oh, my hip!

Mom, you're
looking sleepy.

Am i?

Yeah, your eyes
are getting heavy.

Are they, rea--
[ snores ]

Let me explain.

Some men search their
whole life to find love.

And I was lucky enough to find
two women in one semester.

Am I in heaven,
or am I in hell?

Wake up, june, dear.
I've got to go.

Are you going?

Yes, I must, dear.

Thanks for coming to tea.

Now, you will come again
tomorrow, won't you?

Won't you?

I'm not a plaything.
I'm a senior.

You've got to learn
the difference.

Then teach me...

Teacher.

Maybe.

What a lovely...tea.

Hey!

Old lady!

I'm crushing your head.

I beg your pardon.

I'm just crushing the heads
that need to get crushed...

Like yours, madam.

[ Clicks tongue rapidly ]

My head is perfectly fine,
thank you.

No, it's not.
It's shaped like an acorn.

Can I flatten it for you?

Squish, squish, squish.

No.

Come on, take out
your dentures.

It'll be fun.
I'll crush your head.

Get out of the way!
Your head's in
serious trouble.

I'm crushing your head.

No, I'm crushing your head.

No, I'm crushing
your head.

How can you when
yours is already flat?

[ Clicks tongue ]
victory!

Not a chance!

Victory!
I crushed your head.

No, you didn't.
My head is fine.

I'm number one.
I'm number one.

No, you're number flat.

I'm number one.
I'm number one.

Boy, it's getting crowded
around here.

Crush you.

They say...
[ Chuckles ]

...that the notion of love
at first sight

Is an impossible idea.

Now, I may have
been born yesterday,

But I still went shopping.

It happens.

Well, it happened to me.

Oh, it was years ago
when I was living in baghdad.

[ Murmurs ]

On the day in question,
it was a sexy, sunny iraqi day.

Mmm!

And I was lounging about the
pool at the danish consulate,

Wearing next to nothing.

Mmm.

Oh, in fact at one point,

All I was wearing
was a diplomat's hand.

Mm-hmm.

Oh. [ Inhales sharply ]

Ohh, it was a crazy,
crazy time for me.

I was the top male model
for an egyptian line of jeans.

And my face and figure were
plastered on billboards

All over the middle east.

And still
the fighting continued.

Serge, the man, came striding
into the pool area

Like the colossus of rhodes

And shot me a look
of raw passion

That heroes have been
sh**ting at heroes

For thousands
and thousands of years.

I froze...
[ Chuckles ] oh!

...and buried my face in a copy
of omar khayyám's "kubla khan."

But it was upside down,
so I feigned dyslexia.

He saw right through my
onion-skinned charade

And dove into the pool
fully clothed.

And in one clean,
swift movement,

He was there beside me --

A pepper mill looking
for his salt cellar.

Oh, yes, serge was black...

Which is odd --
don't you think --

Him being danish and all.

But I figure if the french
can worship jerry lewis

And the turks can invent
the croissant,

Anything's possible
in this crazy, crazy world.

I turned to serge,
and with the spontaneity

Of champagne in a slipper,
I said, "I need a lover."

And that was it.

We were together for six months,
which in heterosexual terms

Is three reincarnations
with the same mate.

But serge is dead to me now.
They're all dead to me now.

He walked out of my life and
smack into the front of a bus.

All my lovers
have been k*lled by buses.

I really must get a place
in the country.

Oh, well, live and learn.

You know, it's hard for a f*gg*t
to take risks nowadays,

But you've gotta try.

For example, you know
that feeling you get

When you don't know whether it's
gonna be a shit or a fart,

But you let her rip anyways.

I hesitated to use that analogy
to a heterosexual audience

Because whenever you mention
anything remotely a**l,

They always rush out
to vacuum their car.

It all reminds me of something

That molière once said
to guy de maupassant

In a café in vienna...

"That's nice.

You should write it down."

Last time I saw him,
we didn't even talk.

We just watched
"the flintstones."

It's always
that way.

The last time
you see someone,

You wish
you said more.

But it's
not like you know

It's gonna
be the last time.

If you knew it was gonna
be the last time,

Then you'd say something.
Anything.

The stuff I remember about
reg is the little stuff.

Like the way he'd always make
sure you had a lift home.

Even if you had
your own car with you,

He'd still insist
on giving you a lift.

The next day you'd have
to go back for your car.

But he'd give you a
lift then, too, if he could.

To reg.

To reg.
To reg. To reg.

God,
he could skate!

I never saw a man
more graceful

On two blades
and a sheet of ice.

Remember his hair?

Oh, yeah.

It was always perfect.

Yet you never saw
him with a comb.

I can't believe
he's dead.

To reg.

To reg.
To reg.

Gee, you know,
guys...

Seems like only yesterday
we were just a bunch of kids

Hanging out,
getting slurpees.

Next thing you know
we all got jobs.

Or girlfriends.

Next thing you know,
they're moving in.

Next thing you know,
you're out buying piano wire.

Good strong piano wire,

And sneaking up on old reg
while he reads.

Jobs become careers.

Girlfriends become wives.

And reg becomes a lifeless
corpse in your arms.

Kind of makes
you think

About the fragility
of human life.

Eh, not really.

Remember how
he fought back?

Oh, yeah.

What a death grip --
almost broke my wrist.

Easy to beat up,
hard to k*ll.

To reg.
To reg. To reg.

[ Siren wails ]

I wonder
where he is now.

What?

In a
shallow grave.

Yeah, out by
the tracks, don't
you remember?

Oh, no, no,
no, no, no, no.

I know where his corpse is.

I meant spiritually.

I wonder where his soul is.

Oh, yeah. Oh. Oh.

You know, guys...

I like to think that
if there is a heaven,

Our buddy reg
is up there,

Helping folks out and maybe
even jamming with jimmy.

I didn't know reg
could play guitar.

Oh, yeah, he was great.

Just goes to show you,
you k*ll a guy, fold him up,

Stuff him in your trunk, and
still you don't really know him.

Although you get to know
a guy pretty quick

When you watch him
beg for mercy, eh?

Yeah.
Yeah. Yeah.

To good friends.

To good times.

And to ritualistic
murders.

All: to reg!

[ Groans ]

Ah, that's it.
I quit.

I retire.

I will crush no more heads.

[ Muttering ]

What a head!

What a head!

Oh, he's gone!
What an opportunity missed!

Eeee!

Aw, that was trophy material.

No, I will crush your head...
My little cabbage friend.

But first, I practice.

I'm crushing your head.

I'm crushing --
you'll do.

I'm crushing your head,
mr. Business man.

See that?
Your head's flat.

Is your mother
still dressing you?

She should have
just crushed your head.

Good night.