All language subtitles for Youre the Worst s05e05 A Very Good Boy.eng

(rhythmic snapping)

Better Things, all new.
Thursdays at 10:00.

Starts February 28 on FX.

FXX presents You're the Worst.

*

Checking in with us today?

Okay, Miss Cutler.

Looks like we have you in one
of our signature suites.

Will you be needing
one room key or two?

One's fine.

* Waiting in line *

* Thought about leaving *

* But for real this time *

* Some redesign *

* Of a classic theme *

* Of western scene *

* What everyone wants *

* Is the same thing *

* That everyone wants *

* What do you want to be? *

(sighs)

All right.

Are any of these
popular disc jockeys

worthy of playing our wedding?

Uh, DJ Duchess?

DJ Squirt-Squirt?
Brian?

(scoffs)
Who cares?

We could put a blonde wig and
a Givenchy shirt on an iPhone

and no one would
know the difference.

The DJ will be the first person

to introduce us
as a married couple.

Do you really want to hand
that responsibility

to DJ Thugtastic?

Nock Nock?
Who's Nock Nock?

And how does he have
six million views?

-* Ring around the clocky *
-* Ring around the clocky *

-* Pocket full of Oxy *
-* Pocket full of Oxy *

-* Mom could never stop me *
-* Mom could never stop me *

I think this is trash?

But is it
"garbage trash" or, like,

"trash that ends up
in a museum" trash?

No, no.
It's rubbish.

-Right?
-Right.

I mean, he's just
some Ox'd-out redneck

rapping behind an Arby's
or something.

-Again?
-Yes, please.

-* Ring around the clocky *
-* Ring around the clocky. *

Well, we have had a shockingly
productive morning.

We have booked our cake tasting,

finalized booze selections,

low-balled our officiant,
and tonight,

-we have an appointment
with our florist. -We got a florist?

-This wedding's about to be
classy as fuck. -(phone buzzes)

Right.
Time to head off to write.

I mustn't keep the muse waiting.

Yes, hurry up. Wouldn't want to
lose the table near the outlet.

-What's that supposed to mean?
-Come on.

You're a reg at a coffee shop

with a reg outlet
and reg writing hours.

Plus, running point
on all this wedding shit--

you've just become this, like,
stable-ass dude alla sudden.

Stable?

Yeah, I always thought the whole
point of being a writer

was so that you could drink
all night in dive bars

and challenge other writers to
fist fights and die hella early.

But not you, Jimmy.

You, sir, are a VGB:

A very good boy.

I'm not a...

I am the opposite
of a good boy.

I may have experienced
a marked level of success

as of late, but that
doesn't change the fact

that Jimmy Shive-Overly

is and will always be,
unassailably,

without question,
a bad, bad boy.

Name one thing
that makes you a bad boy.

I have a raging foot fetish.

Foot fetishes are the applesauce
of fetishes.

Bad boy fetishes are like

you can only get turned on
if your dick's on fire.

What are you still doing here?
You're gonna lose your outlet.

Jimmy thinks he's a bad boy.

(laughs)

What... what gives Edgar
the right to weigh in on this?

Jimmy, Edgar has killed people.

What is more bad boy than that?

-(imitates gunshot)
-(Gretchen laughs)

Oh. It's good.

Everyone knows
you don't marry the bad boy.

You bang him until he gets
caught knocking over

a tattoo shop
he lost in a dice game.

But marry him?
No way.

That is what I have you for.

Mm.

Is that sunblock?

Good boy.

* I'm gonna leave you anyway *

* I'm gonna leave you
anyway *

* Gonna leave you anyway. *

*

(indistinct conversations)

(fart noise)

That was the mustard.

Not my butt.

You can eat in the meeting,
Gretchen.

I mean, usually people
don't eat at these things,

but, do you.
All right,

time to pitch me new clients.

Go.

(timer dings)

Mm-mm!

Still on pace
for 28 pages today, Jimmy?

No, actually.

I'm just winging it today.

Who cares about page goals?

You, bruh?

You asked me to
"shame you mightily"

if you don't make your page goal
every day. You good, fam?

Yeah, I'm completely good, fam.

Oh, it's just that my fiancée

accused me of being a good boy.

(scoffs)
Preposterous.

That is decaf, right?

Just... I don't want
the afternoon jitters.

Mind watching my stuff
while I hit the bathroom?

(laughing)

Yeah! Yeah!

Thanks.

His music is fantastic.

His brand is ripe
for developing.

And his numbers speak
for themselves.

When I saw Young Bludgeon
a few years ago,

I felt he was talented, but
derivative of Lil Uzi Vert,

which is to say I am not
interested in this at all,

and neither should you be.

Thanks for that complete waste
of time, Shayna.

Gretchen.

Mm-hmm?
Mm-hmm.

Well, two words for you.

Actually, one word, twice.

Also, not spelled
the way you'd think.

Anyway,

Nock... Nock.

Who's there?

Yes, exactly.
Nock Nock is there.

Nock Nock is
a trailer park rapper

who only raps about drugs
and his mom. And eating pussy.

-Very fresh talent.
-Pull him up on the screen.

Oh, we can do that later.

YVETTE:
Huh.

Anybody heard of him?

Well,

how 'bout we all get to know
Nock Nock today?

All of us? Today?

Watch every video,
listen to every song.

Comb through
his online presence to see

if you brought us someone
who's worth our time.

Rony really vouched for you
on this promotion,

so I am looking forward
to seeing what the hype...

is about.

Meeting's done.

*

(door closes)

Did you hear that?

No. You know what else
I don't hear?

The sound of me jizzing yet.

-You guys banging?
-Aah!

-Oh!
-Noice!

Sweet balls, E.

Ew! You two.

Get a room.

I am in my... sheet room.

Linds, grateful
you're letting us crash,

but we can only kill so much
time at the 99 Cents Store.

It's fun, but then a huge bummer
all of a sudden.

Really sneaks up on you.

Yo, what are you guys getting up
to the rest of the day?

Ew! Get off!
Go back to your couch.

Oh, don't forget,
Paul will be over soon

to do the insemination
procedure.

Paul's gonna come in a cup, and
we're gonna put that in her vag.

Oh, Bec, Tiny People,
Big House is on.

-Okay, babe.
-ANNOUNCER (on TV): This week

-on Tiny People, Big Houses,
-Ooh!

-Kathy and Mark
-(laughs): Ow.

have difficulties
with their reimagined...

How are we living in a world

where Becca
loves her husband now?

And how is that world
living inside my apartment?

I need to find someone.

Soon.

You and I hang out all the time.

We do sex all the time.

I want a "feeds me cheese balls"

type of love.

(clears throat)

Oh, no.

You didn't catch feels, did you?

We promised we'd kill the other
if that happened.

Do I need to get
my stabbing knife out?

No. No feels.

But...

I don't know,
what if we tried?

Explain your words.

What if, like,
we do what we're doing now

but we moved it
to a restaurant and...

you know, gave
catching feelings a shot?

We do bone good.

That's, like,
90% of a relationship.

Let's do it!

Let's go on a...

da...

DayQuil? (laughs):
No, that's not a word.

Uh, what's the word
for a no-sex dinner?

A date.

Ew.

That's it. A date.

Lindsay, you're gonna
want to stay out of your

underwear drawer
for a bit. Tallulah's

taking a nap in there,
and she may or may not have

sharted all over your thongs.

(chuckles)
No, she totally did.

(on laptop):
* Ring around the clocky * * Ring around the clocky *

-* Pocket full of Oxy *
-MAN (chuckling): Oh, she's dead.

-* Pocket full of Oxy *
-* Catch me at the football field *

-* I'm cooking
mac and cheese, yeah * -(chortling)

* I'm cooking all that mac
and cheese... *

WOMAN:
This is the guy?

MAN (chuckles):
Oh, yeah, right.

-* Ring around the clocky *
-* Ring around the clocky *

* Pocket full of Oxy *

(Nock Nock songs overlapping)

-Aah!
-Yvette would like to get drinks with you tonight,

off-campus. I'll be in touch
with your office.

Like, a fun drinks,

-or...?
-* Pussy like it's Cocoa Puffs *

(Nock Nock songs overlapping)

-* Oxy *
-* Oxy... *

(fly buzzing)

One street hot dog,
please, vendor.

(stomach gurgling)

Why are you littering?

Because I'm a bad boy.

Do we need to find a grown-up?

What are you, five?

Who calls adults "grown-ups"?

Piss off,
you meddling street urchins.

Excuse me, grown-up.

We need help.

MAN:
I know, tell me about it. Oh, I did not even

tell you about
our trip to Montana.

-Yeah, no, truly majestic.
-(phone chimes)

Big Sky Country.
Like, so humbling.

I found myself. Best part was,
though, Lexi got sick

on the second night,
so I was just out there

bagging townies
left and right.

(man keeps talking, distorted)

(keys clacking,
sent message chime)

Yeah, I know, it's like,
if you don't

want to lose your pension,
then don't invest it

in the first place,
Grandma.

Yeah.

(laughs)
Right? Yeah.

-(speaking indistinctly)
-*

Hold on, dude, I got
to hit this sick crosswalk.

Um, so, anyway,
the reason I'm calling is,

are you still dealing Molly?

WOMAN (on TV):
We love to entertain, so...

How you doin' in there, buddy?

PAUL:
Fine.

Uh, give me a minute.

WOMAN:
...kitchen that overlooks the large living room.

MAN:
Yes, I do love to cook in it.

(grunts softly)

(sighs)

You'd think
my reproductive anatomy

would more than cooperate,

considering I've refrained
from any emissions

in two fortnights.

(groans)

(moans, exhales)

(panting)

(moaning loudly)

(moaning, panting)

Oh.

(grunts)

(sighs)

Damn!
Great work, Paul.

-It's like a full side of ranch.
-(groans)

PAUL:
It's wondrous to think that of the 400 million-odd

sperm you're holding,
one mighty swimmer

might become my future child.

-How powerful is this moment?
-(snorts softly)

I'm up-squirting the specimen

into the medical baster.

Now I'm inserting
the medical baster

into the vaginal canal.

Oh. Ow!

Relax, honey.

Almost done, Paul.

All right.

You can come out now.

May I?

Oh.

Implant, dear offspring.

Father cannot wait to meet you.

(snorts)

(groaning)

(laughs)

I can't believe it's been
four months and no fetus.

My last sperm test revealed
I had historic motility.

It's my "offish" doctor's
opinion this is absolutely,

-possibly the one.
-And if not,

there's always next month.
(chuckles)

Do you need a pen
to write the check or...

Becca!
This is a sacred moment.

You mind scribblin'
that five thou to "cash"?

Bec and I could really use
the walkin' around money.

(indistinct conversations)

Question.

How did you get hired
in the first place?

(sighs deeply)

Look, I know.

I was just a coked-out assistant

who spent most of her time
hooking up with industry guys

and stealing iPod Shuffles
from swag bags.

But then Rick was decapitated
in that Jet Ski accident,

and, suddenly, I got
a promotion I never asked for.

And now, here I am,
three years later,

getting married, pretending
to be a real publicist

in my big office, which,
yeah, I stole. (chuckles)

Which triggered another
promotion I didn't ask for.

And I am a total fraud, okay?

All I do is lie
and manipulate my clients

into doing
what I want them to do.

You just described
being a publicist.

Yeah, anyways,
thanks for doing this off-campus

to let me save face.

Say bye to Toilet for me.

Sit.

God, you remind me
so much of me.

It's true. I was just

some rich girl
who liked to fuck musicians.

-Really?
-(chuckles) Yes.

I didn't take this job
seriously, either.

Until one day I woke up
and decided I wanted

to be good at something
other than

avoiding being good
at anything.

The only thing I'm good at
is faking it.

I get that you need to think
that's true,

but I have news for you.

When you weren't looking,
Gretchen,

you actually became good.

Can you imagine
how unstoppable you would be

if you actually tried?

Bad mom, huh?

(crying)

(knocking)

You're lucky.

Hello, florist.

Please, enter so that
I may select centerpieces--

a manly endeavor
if ever there was one.

Hmm.

Do you have anything
a bit more dangerous and badass?

No. Pick one of these.

You only just plunked them
annoyedly on the table

a second ago.

Well, daisies
are for schoolchildren.

Succulents are
for anorexic Instagram girls.

Is that just a bowl of sticks?

Hmm. These are really quite
different, aren't they?

One is white hydrangeas
and white calla lilies.

The other
is all white hydrangeas.

Well, the subtle difference
speaks volumes.

Can you hurry?
I have somewhere to be.

Okay, yep. Um...

-well, hydrangeas
and calla lilies it is. -Great.

That's the deposit amount,

and I need a sig there
and the check.

Then I can get the hell
out of here.

You really shouldn't talk
to your customers this way.

You seriously want to argue
about my attitude,

or do you want to tell
your fiancée

that you got this done for her?

Ha! Joke's on you.
My fiancée

doesn't give a shit about this.

Sorry.

Most wedding people

are total assholes.

I get pre-defensive.

Pre-defensive
is my natural state.

What are you
so late for, anyway?

Going to a show.

What kind of show?

* I'm gonna hunt you down *

* And always get my way *

* I'm gonna hunt you down *

* I'm gonna make you pay *

* So go ahead *

* Go ahead and lock me up *

* Lock me up *

(distorted screaming)

* I want to take your keys *

* And now I'm gonna
drive your car *

* I'm gonna take this
way too far. *

(whoops)

(classical music softly playing)

-So...
-Huh?

-Huh?
-What was that?

-What was what?
-You said something.

Oh, I-I-I didn't say anything.
You did.

(chuckles):
Oh. Okay. Never mind.

This food is taking forever.

Isn't it taking forever?

Uh, we haven't ordered yet.

Are you fucking kidding me?

I mean...

funny, I thought we had.

(chuckles)

How's the gym?

I haven't worked there
for over a year.

Really? (chuckles)

Oh. Huh.

I'm just...

-I'm gonna hit the men's room.
-Okay, cool. Cool.

(toilet flushes)

(phone chimes)

(sighs)

(both laugh)

We're so good
with our clothes off.

-What happened?
-I don't know.

Hey.

You deserve
to find love, Lindsay.

If I don't find someone soon,
I'm gonna end up alone.

Like, "Mr. Rogers
begging children

to be his neighbor" alone.

I guess having Jimmy
and Gretchen

about to tie the knot
is freaking me out.

You know, maybe us hooking up

has held you back
from finding it.

As much as I'd hate
to give up quality D,

I need to create space
for love in my heart.

And my puss.

And I want that for you.

(Edgar clears his throat)

Great sex, bud.

Real horny.

Crap, that was mine.

So, let's talk Nock Nock.

-(coughs)
-We're flying him in for a signing meeting next week.

-Wait, but everyone hated him.
-But you liked him.

I couldn't stop watching him.
That doesn't mean I liked him.

In a moment of panic, you
pulled him out of your brain.

I'll go with instinct every time
in this business.

I am definitely
gonna screw this up.

Well, don't tell me that.
Jesus.

We had our little
heart-to-heart.

We experienced
some growth, right?

I'm invested in you now.

Nock Nock is all you, baby girl.

Don't fuck this up.

I won't.

(panting)

(grunts)

That was crazy.
How the hell

did you survive that body slam?

I feel... incredible!

The rage.
The electricity.

The devotion
of your entire physical being

to the communal goal
of feeding

an endless vortex
of violence is...

the most asinine thing

that I have ever done
in my life.

To think that I wasted
even a millisecond

worrying about
whether I'm a quote-unquote

"bad boy" when being bad

is so cheap.

It's an empty goal
for the stupid

that achieves
nothing substantive.

Whereas my predictability

has afforded me
a life that I love,

an incredible fiancée
who's the reason

that I'm having this epiphany
in the first place.

I mean, maybe the true mark
of a bad boy

is knowing that
you can be bad

but having the strength

to not have to prove it
all the time...

* I do what I want *

* I say what I want *

* I wear what I want *

* I'm walking away *

* You know I don't mind *

* I chill by myself *

* You know I'm flyin' high *

* I'm way up in the sky *

* Don't even have to try *

* 'Cause I can see everything. *

(dog barks)

Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH

-(faint rock playing)
-(people chattering)

You're the Worst.
The final season.

All new Wednesdays
at 10:00 on FXX.

MAN (on radio, reggae):
* Don't run away from reality *

* Don't run away *

* Stay and face the fight *

(instrumental continues)

Better Things. All new.
Thursdays at 10:00.

Starts February 28 on FX.

(eerie chanting)

(high-pitched screaming)

(chanting continues)

(singing in foreign language)

(woman warbling)

(blowing)

(flames roaring)

-Oh!
-Aaah!

(up-tempo music)

(roaring)

FX!

MAN: Five, six, seven, eight.

-(drumming)
-(horns playing)

(fingers snapping)

-Again.
-(fingers snapping)

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