All language subtitles for Four in the Morning s01e01 Pig.eng

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

(CROCKERY SHATTERS)

- What do you mean your pig spoke to you?
- (DOOR OPENS)

I mean, he spoke to me.

We had a conversation.

A real fucking conversation.

And then he died.

Well, tell me what he said.

You know, sarcasm gives you wrinkles.

That wasn't sarcasm. That
was a thinly-veiled spurn.

You think I'm crazy.

I don't think you're crazy.
I think you're overwrought.

I mean, he spoke to me and then he died.

- (WHISPERS) That's how it works.
- That's how what works?

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

Shut up! She's about
to tell a goddamn story!

I'm in love.

- Jesus.
- I don't know what to do.

Do you think she loves me back?

- Why don't you ask her?
- Ask her?

Like, right here in
front of you and Mitzi?

In front of me and Mitzi?

- I thought it was Mitzi.
- Oh, no, no, it's Jamie.

My Jamie? You're in love with my Jamie?

That's a strange way to put it.

- What's so strange about it?
- I don't know.

I just told you I'm in
love with your girlfriend,

and you made it sound like
I asked to borrow your car.

- How am I supposed to respond?
- Emotionally! (BANGS TABLE)

God damn it! You should hit me.

- Go ahead, hit me.
- I'm not gonna hit you.

Hit me or I'll think you're a coward.

Sure. Fine. I'm a coward.

- (KNOCK AT DOOR)
- So this morning,

I take Buzz Fledderjohn to the vet.

As you know, he's been having
some trouble not seizing.

Well, the vet tells me it's cancer.

- Aw, I didn't know pigs could get cancer.
- Anything can get cancer.

And he says it's all
going to start to go.

Bladder. Swallowing.
Vision. Real nasty shit.

So she offers to give him an injection.

And that does what? Shrinks the cancer?

- No. It kills the pig.
- Oh...

Right. So I said I needed
some time to think about it.

- I mean, this was my childhood pet.
- (KNOCK AT DOOR)

My confidant, my best friend, really.

That's kind of sad. (CHUCKLES)

Don't you think I know it's
fuckin' sad? I was a lonely kid.

Anyway, I took him to his
favorite spot. The duck pond.

But while we were sitting
there, a shaman approached us.

- A shaman?
- Yes.

An intermediary between the
natural and the supernatural worlds.

He spoke only in an
ancient pangellical lexicon,

yet somehow, I understood him as
though it were plain old English.

And he said, "Albert's sick."

I said, "Albert? His
name is Buzz Fledderjohn."

The shaman assured me that
he had met the pig's spirit

and his name was, in fact, Albert.

Albert, the pig.

So the shaman could tell
I cared deeply for Albert,

so he offered me a handful
of gray-colored beans.

- Beans?
- Yes. Magical beans.

I said, "Magic? Magic how?"

The shaman explained that the beans
would allow Albert to speak to me

for eighteen minutes, but once
the eighteen minutes were up,

- he'd die.
- Why only eighteen minutes?

That was Albert's favorite number.

Well, why didn't you just tell him
that his favorite number was like,

a billion or something?

- Because it's not.
- (POUNDING AT THE DOOR)

What?

C'mon. You can tell me the rest later.

BONDURANT: (SIGHS)

I want her, William.

Find out if she loves me back.

You understand why I'm not
going to do that, right?

I'm shy.

- What if she doesn't feel the same way?
- She doesn't.

Is this because you're
in love with her, too?

- No.
- See? You don't even care about her.

I... I... I care about her, you know.

And just because I
don't love her right now,

doesn't mean I might
not potentially love her

maybe some time down the road.

"Jamie, from the moment I met you,"

"I knew, I might potentially love you."

"Well, maybe some time down the road."

- (SIGHS) All right.
- Not exactly Pablo Neruda.

You want me to help you
bang my girlfriend and

- I'm not going to do it.
- That's ridiculous.

You don't bang a girl like Jamie.

- JAMIE: Whatcha talking about?
- Nothing.

I was just saying how you
don't bang a girl like you.

- What?
- And I asked William

- to find out if you loved me back.
- Loved you back from what?

BONDURANT: Loving you.

I thought you were shy.

I'm a better man around her!

- Can you jump in here, please?
- I don't see how this involves me.

- He's your boyfriend.
- What do you mean "my boyfriend"?

I don't own him,
William, he's not a car.

- Oh!
- So, what do you do with me?

I'm sorry?

Well, you said you don't
bang a girl like me.

I just wanted to know
what you do with me.

- I'd make love to you.
- Aw.

Don't... Don't "aw" that.
Why are you awwing that?

- It's cute!
- You think Bondurant's cute?

- No.
- No?

No. I mean, yeah, I think
you're cute, but I wouldn't...

I was...

I was awwing at the fact that
he'd make love to me. It's sweet.

- Try that again?
- Look, William!

We're "friends". That's
"important" to me.

If you tell me you don't want me

to be in love with your girlfriend,

I won't be in love with your girlfriend.

- Don't be in love with my girlfriend.
- I can't! I'm sorry!

- I'm desperately in love with her.
- This is ridiculous, Bondurant.

I'm sorry, you're a nice guy,
but I'm in love with William.

- What?
- What?

- You're in love with me?
- No. Uh...

Well, this is just fuckin' perfect.

I take it back.

It's out there now,
you can't take it back.

Sure, she can. Let her take it back.

Yeah, William, quit being such a prick.

Bondurant, this is insane.

I'm dating your best friend.
Hell, you're dating my best friend.

Don't drag me into this.

No, I'm just saying that
even if I did love you back,

nothing could ever happen...

What do you mean, "Even
if I did love you back"?

- What?
- Are you saying that

if I was out of the picture,
you two would be dating?

I just told you that I loved you.

And then you took it back.

- I don't think you can have it both ways.
- That's not helping.

I don't remember trying to help.

Fine.

- You really want to know?
- I really want to know.

Then, yeah, sure. In
some alternate universe

where you and I had never
met, I might date Bondurant.

Well, why don't we
stick to this universe?

Well, in this universe we met.

- So my earlier principle applies.
- What if I died?

What if I was dead?

Would you date Bondurant then, huh?

Jesus, William, when did you
become such a drama queen?

Well, if you died really tragically,

I could imagine a situation

where I might turn to
Bondurant for support.

Of course, that would lead
to late-night conversations,

emotions all abuzz,
comforting hugs and whatnot.

Eventually, there's
a touch of a shoulder,

a lingering glance.

And, in our fragile states, we would

use each other to dull
the pain of a friend lost.

There's a slight reluctance at first but

as our nubile bodies writhe
between the sheets in tangled bliss,

the ecstasy growing
with each tender thrust,

like a piston picking up
steam in the hull of a ship.

Harder and harder and faster and faster

and harder and harder
and harder and faster

- and harder and harder...
- I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!

(BELL TINKLES)

So you've thought about it.

No. I'm... I'm saying in that situation

I could imagine something
happening between us.

- You're saying yes?
- I'm saying if you died tragically.

I'm 24 years old.

Tragically, is the only way I
can die for the next 30 years.

Are you jealous of me and Bondurant?

WILLIAM: There is no you and Bondurant.

Are you jealous of our love?

You know, I'm certainly getting
why your parents abandoned you.

Nice, William.

Real damn nice.

- I'm sorry. You know, I didn't mean it.
- JAMIE: Don't.

(SIGHS)

(DOOR OPENS)

Ah-ha-ha!

God, I hate them!

Let's walk. I love to walk.

- Hear back from anyone yet?
- Not so much.

If you want, my bank's looking for
a new Senior Accounting Officer.

- I could put you up for it.
- Again?

That's like the third one this year.

They keep getting pushed
out of helicopters.

Well, what kind of experience do I need?

Just a finance degree
from an Ivy League.

Ten years at a Big Four accounting firm.

I can't even land a waitressing gig.

You think I got a shot?

I mean, at this point we're just looking

for somebody who can keep
their damn mouth shut.

Buy me a beef hotdog?

Want anything?

Where do you get your gorilla?

I'm fine.

(SCOFFS) I didn't know Bondurant

was going to say all that stuff.

Sure, you did. You knew in
the way that all pretty girls

know the men of their less pretty
friends are in love with them.

- What?
- You're prettier than I am.

- No, I'm not.
- Denying it doesn't make you humble,

it makes you a liar.

And the only thing worse than
being humble is being a liar.

I'm not being humble,

I just don't like to
judge people like that.

I don't like giving head, doesn't mean

I don't find myself down
there from time to time.

- Oh, come on, you love giving head.
- Not enough, apparently.

Where are you going?

(GRUNTS)

(GLASS SHATTERS)

Little sluts stole our cab.

I don't think they're
going to get the message.

The affected party's immaterial.

There was an injustice perpetrated.

I, in turn, perpetrated one injustice.

Is that like the cynic's
version of paying it forward?

There's a fixed amount of
happiness in the universe.

If something really
good happens to someone,

something really shitty has
to happen to someone else.

But what if our hijacked cab

was itself balancing an
already incurred injustice?

Well, then, it appears I've
karmically fucked us all.

BONDURANT: William, we need to talk.

I do not want to talk about my fam...

Then just put your hand out.

I'm just going to take a tiny nap.

See, even everything
about you, you close it.

You cover your crotch area, and that...

That tells me quite a bit
about what is going on.

I will just lay here.

If I lay here, William,
and just support my head.

I have two hearts, split in two.

- Oh, is that what it is?
- One on either side of me.

Is that why you're extra sensitive

about everything that we discuss?

William, I want to get
the same hair cut as you.

But, but you're... Look... (LAUGHS)

Excuse me!

What... What are you doing?

- "Extra sensitive?"
- Okay, the...

- Oh, now I'm the sensitive one?
- Ah...

Talk, William.

Let's, let's talk about you.

How about you? What's...

How's your dad doing?

- My dad?
- Yeah.

What? Hey! Hey! You can't do that!

You can't tickle me!

And when the queen has enough nectar,

the worker wasps have nothing to do.

So they just sit around all day

drinking fermented fruit
and stinging people.

MITZI: Huh.

I mean, isn't that like the most
concerning thing you've ever heard?

Angry, drunk, out-of-work wasps?

I suppose.

- You don't find that concerning?
- I said I suppose.

- I don't know what that indicates.
- It indicates what it indicates.

Indifference, disinterest,
stupidity. Nothing.

None of those things are nothing.

Do you really think Bondurant said

what he said because you
don't blow him enough?

What? No.

I don't think that.

Why?

Do you think that? No.

No, nothing, it's just
something that you said before.

Something I said before?

Yeah, you said, "Not
enough, apparently."

- But forget it, it's not important.
- When did I say that?

Earlier, when we were talking
about blowing Bondurant.

- We never talked about blowing Bondurant.
- Yes, we did. Earlier.

I talked about it.

Yeah, of course, that's
what I meant, obviously.

- Obviously.
- Obviously.

I'm having Bondurant's abortion.

- What?
- You asked, so I'm telling you.

That's why I said, "Not
enough, apparently."

Although, if there was ever a candidate

for the first-ever fellatic conception,

I'm pretty sure we'd have a decent shot.

I don't know what Jamie sees in you.

Well, I never asked her, so...

- She must think you're funny.
- Sure. Fine.

Oh, I bet that's it! You're funny.

- Say your funniest thing.
- What?

Make me laugh or I'll
think you're not funny.

No.

No. You know what, what about you?

You've been sleeping on
my couch for six months.

Frankly, I don't know what
Mitzi sees in a loser like you.

I'm an artist, man. She's
attracted to my soul.

She didn't seem to mind when you
wanted to leave her for Jamie.

Mitzi may act cavalier,

but I know the girl is devastated.

Or maybe that "artist soul" of yours

isn't quite cutting it in the big city.

(SOBS)

Bondurant. Shh. Shh.

- I was kidding.
- I told her, William!

The letter came last
week and I told her!

- You told her what?
- I was admitted to Juilliard.

Bondurant! That's incredible!

- Congrats, buddy.
- It's a lie, William!

- It's a horrible, horrible lie!
- Shh.

They don't want me.

I gave them the best
I had, I really did,

and I nailed it. I nailed that audition.

And still, they say no.

- I'm a fraud.
- Shh.

- You're not. You're not a fraud.
- I'm a big, fat fraud.

- You're very talented.
- Oh, please!

- No, no, it's true.
- You are just saying that,

- so I won't make a scene!
- Shh! You're not. I mean it.

I always tell people about you.

- Who?
- Who?

- Who do you tell about me?
- Just people that I know.

What do you tell them about me?

Just how talented you
are. And things like that.

Do you tell them I was self-taught?
Do you tell them that part?

Sure. Of course I say
you were self-taught.

That's the most important part.

- You can't tell them that!
- Why not? It's very impressive.

Oh, the trumpet scene
is a fraternity, William!

It's an exclusive little
fraternity just like...

Everything else.

It's all about where and
with whom you trained.

To be self-taught is to be a leper.

Okay, someone will see your talent,
Bondurant. It just takes time.

Oh, you don't get it.

You don't understand.
You're not an artist.

- I'm a writer.
- Oh, nobody reads books anymore.

- Some people read.
- No one.

Where are you going?
This isn't our stop.

You're pregnant?

- Transitorily.
- And...

And it's Bondurant's?

- Well, does he know?
- Of course he knows.

Why do you think he
wants to ditch me for you?

- I'm kidding. Jesus!
- (SIGHS)

- You should tell him.
- Why? Show me the handbook.

Show me the rule that says
every stupid fucking pregnancy

has to be disclosed to
all material parties.

But what if he wants
to, you know, have it?

He got into Juilliard, Jamie.

- What?
- He told me he got accepted.

Apparently, they loved his audition.

Compared him to a young Bix Beiderbecke.

Bix Beiderbecke died at twenty-eight.

There was only ever a
young Bix Beiderbecke.

Is that really the issue right now?

You're being hysterical.

This might be okay. I mean,

maybe they have some sort of program.

You know, for musicians
with babies or something.

This isn't goddamn junior
college for pregnant teen moms,

this is fuckin' Juilliard.

I'm not going to drop
this on him right now,

even if I did want to keep it.

Do you want to keep it?

No.

I mean... (SIGHS)

Yeah. I mean...

It's complicated.

My family used to have Christmas dinner

at Casa Santa Marta, for God sakes.

Is that where the Pope lives?

But if I do tell him
about this unholy growth

in my apparently really
fuckin' fertile uterus,

he's going to think I'm
using it just to keep him

and I don't want him to think that.

Oh, come on. You don't know that.

Maybe he wants to get rid
of the little sucker, too.

You think?

Yeah, abortions are
totally back in vogue.

That brunch place around the corner

grates the morning-after
pill into their omelets.

That's not the issue. (SIGHS)

- Then what's the issue?
- (EXHALES) I don't know.

Nothing.

Can we just smoke, please?

- Sure, hon.
- (FOOTSTEPS RECEDING)

Passion, William!

I have no goddamn passion!

What are we talking about?

They give you feedback,
did you know that?

"Strong technically, lacked passion."

- Where are we?
- Help me with this.

- Is this Massey Hall?
- They want to see passion?

(GRUNTS) I'll show them goddamn passion!

What are you doing?

When I was a child, my dad would take me

to a male strip club
a town over from us.

If he was ever caught by an
acquaintance or a work colleague,

he would explain that he
was not there for himself,

but rather that I had been

grabbing boys' penises
in the showers at school

and he wanted to scare me straight.

That's... That's horrifying.

After a while, I grew quite
familiar with some of the staff.

One in particular. A
Korean dancer named Greg.

He would trip the light fantastic

to this brilliantly sexy jazz tune.

It was entrancing.

I'd never heard anything like it.

So one day I removed a dollar

from my dad's martini glass of dollars,

walked up to the stage,

placed the bill in his G-string

and asked for the name of the artist.

He said, "Come see me after
the show, little bucko."

- Dear God.
- That night

in Greg's private dressing room

at the Dalliancer, I became a man.

The way a boy does when he
listens to jazz for the first time.

We grooved and cut

and skipped to the
sweet symphonic melodies

of the Massey Hall Jazz Band Anthology

in the time it took my
father to be brought to climax

in a nearby room for
very important people.

It was illuminative, William.

And I was awake.

- I certainly hope so.
- On the drive home that night,

I asked my dad, I said,

"Dad, how can I get to Massey Hall?"

And despite the spiritous
blood drenching his brain,

my father took his eyes off
the icy Manitoban freeway

and said something so simple,

yet so profound.

I knew it would follow me for
the rest of my musical life.

He said, "Practice,
Bondurant, practice."

You know that's a very
famous joke, right?

What? No, it's not a joke, William.

It's a special thing
between me and my dad!

Your entire life is based
on an old vaudeville routine

and the fancy tastes of a
good-natured male stripper?

It's based on a lie, William!

I practiced.

Just like he said, I practiced
'til my lips were bloody and raw,

but it wasn't goddamn good enough!

Now either help me
break into Massey Hall

or go the fuck home.

(SIGHS)

You have to put your weight into it.

MITZI: Not too much.

We should leave something
for the doctor to do.

You know,

the Greeks had a word,

acratic.

The reluctance to do something
we know is good for us.

Not to be confused with Socratic.

To do something we know is good

that gets us beheaded.

Actually, Socrates was
poisoned by hemlock.

(SIGHS)

Those inhumane Athenian bastards.

I just remembered.

I never finished my story.

(EXHALES)

Regale me.

- William...
- Shut up, Bondurant.

(SIGHS)

So the shaman left.

And, after some consideration,

I decided to feed Albert the beans.

(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)

I had a feeling.

But nothing happened.

So there I am, sitting on the bench,

crying my eyes out while
Albert chases ducks.

And all of a sudden, I hear...

In a low growl,

"I wanna bury my snout in your tits."

And when I look up,

there's Albert staring
me right in the face.

He says I have a nice rack

and because he has cancer

I should let him have a poke around.

He also says he wants deviled eggs.

Apparently, a few fell on the
floor a couple of years ago,

and he's "developed" a taste.

I mean, can you believe that?

Forget the inter-special attraction,

which frankly makes no
sense to me, but here we are,

mankind's first substantial
encounter with the animal kingdom

and I'm expecting something profound.

I mean, for God's sake,

this pig was like an
older brother to me.

He could at least tell me
he enjoyed our time together.

That it was all going to be okay,

something like that.

But all he wanted to
do is eat and screw.

MITZI: I suppose I
should have expected it.

He is a pig after all.

BONDURANT: All right.
Hand me my trumpet.

- Okay.
- Seriously, you have one job,

to have my trumpet

- available at all times.
- Shh.

Anyway, after he jerked himself off,

we got to talking which was fine.

Although most of it
was spent convincing him

that the mirror was, in fact,

not another pig living in our apartment.

He took that pretty hard.

Apparently, they were close.

But before he died, there
was something he said

that I thought was so peculiar,

and I know what you're gonna say,

"It's a talking pig, wasn't
everything he said peculiar?"

Well, yes.

But there was one thing...

One thing that really stood out.

He said he watched you
and Bondurant having sex.

That's right, Jamie.

The pig squealed.

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