All language subtitles for Youre the Worst S04E04 This Is Just Marketing 1080p AMZN WEB-DL DD+5 1 H 264-CasStudio_track3_[eng]

You jerk.
It's not funny.

Yes, it is.
Stop it!

(running footsteps)
(door slams)

ANNOUNCER: Better Things.
All new Thursdays at 10:00
on FX.

FXX presents You're the Worst.

(knob clicking)

* Ow

* They call it magic

* They call it dynamite

* You know you know it
when you get it right *

* They call it the breeze

(smoke alarm beeping)

* They call it out of sight

* You know you know it
when you get it right *

* Yeah

* So bad, so bad, so bad

* Oh, yeah

* How bad do you want it?

(sighs)

Big day today.

I'm meeting
with the publishing house

about the strategy
for the new book.

Of course,
marketing budg...

Why aren't you listening
to me? I'm fascinating.

Oh, I'm on a dating app now.

I was hoping to find romance,

but every girl I match with just
ends up wanting to be friends.

Like, on Friday, I'm
helping a girl move a futon

into her apartment, but
we've got to be done by 5:00

because she's got a date.

Well, the good news
for you is that

these sites attract desperate,
soon-to-be spinsters

with the self-esteem
of a shelter pet.

And that knowledge
can help you.

Have you tried negging?

Isn't that something lame dudes
did, like, ten years ago?

Now it's making a comeback.

Like pubes and racism.

See, to neg,
you employ criticism

couched as compliments
to prey on low self-esteem.

Par exemple,
"Oh, I love your top.

My mother had the same one
before she lost four stone."

I can't be mean
to someone I like.

Those are the best people
to be mean to.

They never see it coming...
ugly.

This is the survival
of your genes.

You have to be aggressive.

Like they say, "Tits or GTFO."
What does that stand for?

I'm not sure exactly.

I think maybe,
"Tits... or get thy fanny out."

Mm, I could give it a shot.

Hey, maybe
we could be app buddies.

I'm assuming you're dating now.

(clears throat)
That would be a "no."

Actually, I'm guardedly excited
about how things went

with Gretchen the other night.
Jimmy,

I think it's over.

No. You heard her.

She said that everything between
us was, and I quote, "okay."

Did you notice how she said it?

Weird and flat like someone

who's about to do something bad
on Facebook Live.

Edgar, bit of advice.

Try not to dig
beneath the surface of things.

With your pathetic
analytic skills,

you really should take
everything at face value.

You know, like, when I say,
"Oh, Edgar, you idiot."

Hmm.

* I'm gonna leave you anyway

* I'm gonna leave you
anyway *

* Gonna leave you anyway.

(sighs) I've gotten it down
so I only have to sleep

three and a half hours
a night.
(Lindsay giggles)

My metal work is more honest
in the pre-dawn hours.

(Lindsay laughs loudly)

That's so funny!

Why is that funny?

(sighs, chuckles)

I don't know.

(whispers):
Watch this.

Ow!

Oh, my God, I'm sorry!

Uh, let's go.
Right.

'Sup, ninja? Why aren't you
answering your phone?

Because I'm busy trying
different clothes combinations

on this...
alive mannequin thingy.

Shouldn't you be at work, too?

Nah. I was
so cranked up

from messing with
Jimmy's head,

I decided to blow off
work and treat myself

to a liquor-store lunch instead.

So, I forgot to tell you.

I had sex with that dummy Ty.

What?!
And then,

later that same day,

I boned his
best friend.
What?!

Should I try a walk, or...?
Shut up!

Plus, he's married,
so it can't be a thing.

That's right--
two guys in a row,

just like senior prom.

Ooh! Micheladas are much better
when they're cold.

PRISCILLA:
Hey, Lindsay.

Hi, Lindsay's troubled friend.

Good news.

We just signed

to dress Casey Affleck's
lawyer for all future

court appearances,
press conferences
and depositions.

Looks like Mama's
getting her boat.
That's amazing!

Do you want to stay
late with me tonight?

We can get dinner,
force Carl

to make coffee and
froyo runs. Make it fun.

Oh, farts. I promised my sister
I'd babysit,

but I could cancel
if you want me to.

No, that's okay. I can
harass him by myself.

Pants... as a hat?

I like it.

It's fun, right?
Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.

Ew. You have to hang out
with that ugly-ass baby?

That thing looks like Billy
Corgan fell asleep in a Jacuzzi.

I know, but thank God
I had a legit excuse.

(quietly):
Priscilla's always here.

She eats, sleeps and shits work.

I don't want to
shit work, Gretchen.

I once shit out one of those
little wooden ice cream spoons,

and I couldn't sit down
for a week.

Hey, want to do
something fun?

We'll be in the man cave
recording the podcast,

so if she cries like a little
bitch, just babble at her.

You can say anything
on account

of her soft-ass baby brain
being all stupid and soft.

Check it.
Hey, dumb baby.

Guess what
Daddy did at work.

He used an oscillating
bone distractor

to try and relieve
an old lady's

craniofrontonasal
dysplasia, and we lost her

on the table.
Yes, we did.

We lost her.

BECCA:
Hey, guys.

This is my GBF, Walter.

We met at the bar in Gelson's.

He and his hubby also
have a three-month-old.

And I'm definitely the
Becca in my marriage.

I would say that Troy is the
Vernon, but he has money

(whispers):
and a chin.

(laughter)

You're late.
(in baby voice):
I'm "saw-wee."

I had to leave my job
as a professional stylist

so I could babysit for "fwee."

Hey, being a mom is the most
important job in the world.

Don't indoctrinate my baby
with your libtard bullcrap.

(chuckles)

Normally, I don't let my sitters
bring their friends,

especially when one is

clearly intoxicated,

and the other one's probably
in our country illegally.

(stifled laugh)
(laughs)

I can say that
because I voted for Obama.

The first time.
(scoffs)
Lock her up!

BOTH:
Lock her up! Lock her up!

(both chuckling)

Um, I have to run.
(gasps)

Yeah, Troy's on this new thing
about eating dinner at the table

and just talking, like
friggin' psychopaths?

You should do what I do.

I just make Vernon eat
in the car.

(both laughing)
Joke's on you.

I get to eat dinner
with Joe Rogan every night.

(laughs)

Mmm.

What?! No!
Jon Cryer just canceled.

Damn it!
We can't just not

do the podcast.

We already blew the Red Napkin
cash on Tallulah's eye medicine.

Gretch, you just had
some crazy stuff go down.

You want to come get deep
in the man cave?

Mm. No, Vernon, she doesn't...
she doesn't want to.

Sure. I am owning
what Jimmy did to me.

I am not living
in silence anymore.

Plus, I am

drunk as shit
on this clam booze,

so I'm down for whatever.

Come on, I'll get you set up.
Listen, when I ask you

if you wish you could have
all your dinner ingredients

delivered to your door,
say yes.

I mean, I know
that seems obvious,

but for some reason,
Janeane Garofalo said no.

*

They're ready
for you.
Ah.

(clears throat)

(applause)

"Simon entered the room as he
entered a woman: deliberately,

"with no appetite
for the bromidic.

"For Simon, even the
humdrum was veined thick

with decadence."
"With decadence."

I'm Candace Sebring,
head of marketing.

This is my rock star team.

And we all love the book!

(cheering and applause)

We have been

looking for you
for three months!

Oh. (laughs)
Our little
disappearance artist.

We can't wait for you to see
the mock-up of your cover.

Yes. Well, it is a tricky one,
what with having to capture

the tenor
and zeitgeist

of three wildly different
periods in London's...

I'm, um...
I'm-I'm just confused,

because that looks
like a sex book

for horny airport ladies.

My book is, of course,
literature.

Oh, Jimmy. No, this
is just marketing.

We want your genius to have the
best possible chance to succeed.

Which is why we're putting it
in the erotica section.

(all agreeing)

If it's marketed as erotica
and it's in the erotica section,

then it's erotica.

If what's inside is literature,
it's literature.

(all agreeing)

Then why not market it
as literature?

Because nobody buys literature.

They do buy erotica.

And they're definitely gonna buy
this erotica.

You just said it's not erotica!
Which is what makes it

so erotic.

Imagine what happens
when an overworked mom

lights her scented candles,
slips into her bubble bath,

opens your book and realizes

this isn't just sexy as hell--

it's actually a
really good book.

She'll squirt so hard,
that tub will overflow!

Besides,
we've already paid

for the most prominent spots
in all the major chains.

Right next to some
of our other hot titles.

Bye!

Jimmy. (chuckles)
Jimmy.

Jimmy, we're doing a reading
tonight at The Straining Corset.

Some of our authors from our
Silk Sheets line are reading,

and we're hoping
that you will, too.

All of the top erotica
bloggers and tastemakers

will be there.

At least... think about it.

EDGAR:
Wow. As if.

(scoffs)

Ugh.
Unbelievable!

Seriously?

Stop it!

I'm trying to stare at
this baby real quick.

Well, Jimmy told me
to neg these girls,

but I just keep getting back
all sorts of rude comments

and no titties whatsoever.

It's like they don't even care
if they get thy fannies out.

What'd you write?

Um, um, "Damn, girl,

"what's up with those nostrils?

You Airbnb'ing them shits?"
(chuckles)

"Titties or GTFO."

That would work on me,

but why are you
talking like that?

It sounds wrong. Like if
your cat started barking.

Oh, my God,
how cute would that be?
I know!

That would be so cute!
As soon as I said it,

I was like, "Aw!"
Aw!

(coos)
Well, being nice

didn't work.

And doing Jimmy's strategy

of being mean didn't work.

So... what can I do?

Give up. Die alone.

Or-- oh, and stay with me here--
what if I combine

the intensity of my
natural, intimate approach

with the aggressive
manipulation of negging?

That's ridiculous.
It'll never work.

I'm gonna go practice
this in the place

where all the greatest
flirting is done:

the toilet.

The toilet.
I was gonna say that.

(sighs)

*

GRETCHEN:
And once I realized

it wasn't some elaborate heckle

and he really
wasn't coming back,

I walked down toward the
Hollywood Bowl to get a signal.

I almost got trampled
by a pack of wine-drunk

50-year-olds

with picnic baskets,
but my cab finally came.

(tires screeching sound effect)

I just can't believe what
I'm hearing. That's not Jimmy.

You must have misunderstood.

How?
Unknown.

You just had to have.
No way. Uh-uh.

Jimmy is way too manly a boss to
punk out on a bitch like that.

I just want to say
that you are so brave

for showing your face
after that humiliation.

I would've changed my name,
cut off all my hair,

gotten a neck tattoo,

joined a golf league
at the local par 3,

maybe rent a little efficiency

in Marina Del Rey
where the water

meets the
sky and...

a woman
can just live her life out loud

without judgment or labels...

Whatever. He's the one
who should be ashamed, not me.

I know Jimmy better
than anybody.

He could never do
something like that.

It was probably
some cool-ass prank

like Jamie Kennedy would do.

Jimmy is
a psychopath.

I woke up in the middle

of the night one time,

and he was editing a picture
of my feet

on one of those Facetune apps.

I once walked in
on him

masturbating to a story
written by an 11-year-old.

(car horn sound effect)
That was supposed to be
sexy moaning.

Stop it!
Stop ripping on my best friend!

I am just glad
to be done with the whole thing!

Sure, I'm out some rent money,
but it's a small price.

Wait a minute,

you paid rent in advance?

Yeah, like, half a year.

I was once right up
on that same hill

getting proposed to by Jimmy.

I said no and
you said yes,

which really adds
extra humiliation for you.

But that's not the point.
The point is,

why does Jimmy get
to decide everything?

Yeah! He disappeared and I don't
get to live in my house anymore?

Stop it!
It's not fair!

That butthole can't do that!

You guys can't say that stuff
about my friend!

I'll walk out!

This is my show!

Did you ever catch him
plucking his nipple hairs?

(laughs)
That's it!

Podcast over!

Hey! We have a financial
commitment, mister.

Oh, yeah.

Just joking around there, guys.
Ha-ha.

(soft music playing)
You guys,

I love Ned Rapkin so much.

Are you ever
in the mood

for a spinach
and fried leek "frittoto"

surrounded
by a bed of "rugala..."

(screams)

(phone buzzes)

(video game chimes)
(sighs)

*

(Tallulah fusses)
(sighs)

What's wrong?

In the middle of messaging
all these girls, I just...

started thinking about the
relationship you and I have--

whatever it is--
and how, yeah,

we're just a couple of wild
cards who don't add up to much,

but if nothing else
during this time,

I learned firsthand just...

how absolutely amazing you are.

Me?

Your smile.

(giggles)

The way your eyes catch
fire when you laugh.

I mean, sure, you regularly
get outwitted by dogs,

but that's what makes
you unique. And yeah,

you get Doritos stuck
in your eyebrows sometimes,

but I still want to make out
with you all the time,

because our connection,
despite whatever,

it's true and deep and good.

Now I'd love to see those
beautiful bosoms of yours,

if I might.

Yeah. Okay.

Wouldn't work, huh?

(gasps) You!

You cannot bring that technique
into the world, Edgar.

It's too dangerous.

Mmm.

(exhales)

Whew.

Your Uncle Edgar is a bad man.

He's gonna make all the girls
show him their titties.

(chuckles)

(in baby voice):
I don't know what titties are

because my mommy doesn't
let me suck on hers.

(laughs)

Give me the thing.

(Tallulah cries)

How's the podcast?

I hate Jimmy.
Why is your boob out?

I was showing it to Edgar.

It's not weird.
We're doing it.

What?! Why?! Since when?!

For a while.
Don't worry, we just bang.

And do mouth stuff.
And he loves the booty.

Ew. Ew. Wait.

You don't do it on the couch
where I sleep, do you?

Oh, yeah, all the time.

Oh, that reminds
me, Gretchen,

you should definitely
buy a new pillowcase.

(gags)

"His tongue explored
her inner sanctum

"with varying degrees of fervor,

"whimsy giving way
to desperation.

"On her uncle's farm, Chastity
had seen newborn kittens

"and foals licked clean

by their mothers.
With careful... "

I knew you'd show.

Ugh, did I put
the mustache on crooked?

I'm not reading.
Listen, Jimmy,

I've done my research,
and I know you need this

now more than anything.

It's been a while

since your last
significant paycheck.

House isn't gonna
pay for itself.

This is anathema

to everything I love
about literature.

Genre, groupies, fandom...

I can't really think of
a good analogy right now,

but why pre-judge something
before you've even tried it?

Oh, and amazing news,

People magazine read the book
and they want to do a profile,

because a little white girl
hasn't been murdered in a while,

but that clock is ticking.

Jimmy, I think this book
could really be a thing.

That's why I need you
to get up there.

AUTHOR:
"...with the taste of her."

(applause)

Thank you. Buy the book.

Up next,

we have one of our
most exciting new writers.

A man who can take
a World War II bombing raid

and turn it into a sensual siege
on your entire body.

(murmuring)

Please join me in welcoming

the author of the forth coming,

The Width of a Peach,

Jimmy Shive-Overly.

(microphone feedback)

When I set out to write

the sexiest, erotic
literary novel

since Portnoy's Complaint,

I knew I was going to ruffle
a few feathers.

Take off your pants!

(whooping and applause)

(squeals and whoops)

"Simon stroked himself
gently..."

(sighs)
Becca, we're leaving.

Yo, we getting paid or what?

Becca?

Jesus Christ!

(groans)
What the hell is
wrong with you?!

Tallulah needs you,
and you're passed out drunk.

Yeah! We want our
money, too, bitch.

Eh, what happened?

I'm not dirty.

Drag that deadbeat
out of the shower

and force-feed her coffee
till it shoots out of her butt.

(cries)

LINDSAY:
I guess I didn't realize it,

but I never actually felt love
before in my life.

*

Not real love anyway.

But as I stared at that baby,

I felt my heart swell.

And in that moment, I knew

that even though
the magical feeling came

with the possibility
of one day losing it,

the pain would totally
be worth it.

* When I suckle on your breast

* I am your

* Baby

* Son...

All of my life,

I'd been trying
to resist that feeling,

but I couldn't anymore.

And that knowledge forced me to
really think about my future.

* Saw something light
in the sky *

Because, you see, it was
all too vulnerable, and...

I never want
to feel that way again.

I never want to care about
something that might go away.

So, I choose...

for my job to be my everything.

Just like you, Priscilla.

Just like you.

What the hell are you talking
about? I'm married.

I have two kids
and three stepkids.

Emily is 32,
and we get Botox together.

What? Then why are you
in the office all the time?

Because there's a lot
of work to do.

Oh.

Well, I'm still choosing my job.

Okay, sure, whatever.

Eh, can I have an eggroll now?
I'm starving.

Oh.

(sighing)

Okay.

*

*

(applause over television)

Gretchen?
HOST (on TV): $600.

Mm-hmm?
CONTESTANT: "T."

What are you doing here?

What do you mean?
This is my home.

I never moved out.

You just brought a bunch of my
stuff, unasked, to Lindsay's,

where I happened to be staying
for a little while.

But now I'm back here,

where I already paid rent,
because why wouldn't I be?

I didn't do anything.

You did.

Now, get out of my room.

DJ:
Jack FM.

Like if the worst kid
in detention

had sex with a radio station.

If you have any questions,
comments, or concerns,

e-mail it to Jack at stick it up
your (bleep) dot com.

* I wanna prove to you

* My love is extended

* My love never ended

* My passion befriended

* Your
* Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba-ba, ba *

* Heart
* Ba, ba, ba, ba, ba. *

(dog barks)

Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH

Hey.

If I buy you a drink,
does that mean you have to
go down on me?

'Cause, you know...
feminism.

(voice echoing,
distorted)
(steady stomping)

ANNOUNCER:
American Horror Story: Cult.

All new,
Tuesdays at 10:00 on FX.

Okay. One light
is blinking.

DUKE: Mom!

Uh--
Mom!

Yes. It's-- Two lights
are blinking again.

Still not working!

Okay. Three lights
are blinking.

Now no lights
are blinking.

Yes, I love to hold.

Mom!
(groans)

(whines)

ANNOUNCER: Better Things.
Ugh.

All new Thursdays
at 10:00 on FX.