Original subtitles

No matter where I go, somebody's got to see. I got to see the basics. I don't

know any way.

Where will I find someone who understands?

you're just going to sit here, not drink, and watch me get plastered?

I don't know.

That might.

Well, I guess you are, baby, because I'm having this kamikaze. You know why?

Yeah, because you're an alcoholic and your best friend's in a coma.

I have enough of these. She and I will have that in common. What good is that

going to do you? I won't feel bad about Jackie, okay? In fact, I won't feel at

all. You think you can make all the bad feelings go away with booze? Yes. Right?

That's why people in beer commercials are so happy.

You're not going to drink that, are you? Oh, yes, I am.

Because, you see, that is what you do with a drink. You drink it. You can't

it. Nothing to chew.

Can't wear it. No strap.

Can't smoke it.

What?

Drinks are meant to be drunk. Much like myself, thus the familiar phrase. Isn't

that Billy Frank, the drunk?

And the slut.

Right.

So... I am having this kamikaze, and there is nothing you or anyone else in

Addictions Anonymous can do to stop me.

Except that.

Are you insane?

I don't know. You dared me. And, you know, when I'm challenged, I panic, and

tend to throw. That's why I'm everybody's favorite choice at

Well, dodge that.

over people in the bar.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Hey, our best friend is in a coma.

I understand, but I'm going to need this arm to find her chart. Her name is

Jackie Garcia. Somebody paged me.

She's been moved to room 424.

That sounds like a happy alert number.

Verse 424 hospital code for Jackie's a vegetable.

No, she's still in a coma, but she's been upgraded to stable. Upgrade.

Upgrade, what does that mean? What, she's in a first -class coma with more

room and cuter nurses?

No offense.

Honey, you know sometimes in the movies a person gets so hysterical they get

slapped?

That's about to happen to you.

Twice. You can go see her now.

Thank you.

Have you been drinking?

No. Actually, he has. I have not.

Oh, talk about denial, Dave.

It's a new, trendy restaurant with a bizarre and, might I add, unappetizing

theme. Honey, are you a labourer?

No, not for her, you idiot.

Just because her stomach is grossly distended, you think that she's the one

need of care?

For all you know, she might not even be pregnant. She might merely be fat.

Honey, what's the problem? I need an M .D. A .F .A .P. My toe is broken. My

entire fucking toe.

Well, let's see.

We got gunshot wounds, multiple stabbings, and over there, we have a

foot in a cooler.

Now, I don't know who that belongs to, but I am pretty sure it didn't walk in

here by itself.

So, you're going to have to W -A -I -T.

What if I told you that foot is mine?

Well, that would be a lie, Grandma.

Don't call me that.

People might think we're related.

Of course not, you idiot. She's in a coma.

Yeah, but she's better, right? Who could tell?

It's a coma.

It's not like anybody ever says, hey, how's Bob? Oh, he's doing great since he

got in that coma.

You have a very unusual bedside manner.

How's that?

For one thing, you're not very reassuring.

I'm not reassured.

You want to sugarcoat it a little, Doctor?

I'm not a doctor.

I'm Crystal.

Jackie's mother.

Don't you see the resemblance?

Well,

color means surprise.

Not that color matters.

You two got something against white people?

No. I mean, some of my best friends are white.

And all my family.

Crap. She's drooling.

There you go, Angel.

Jackie, it's me, Dave. I'm here, honey.

I'm here.

Tell her I'm here, too.

Funny, I'm not on the telephone with her.

Coleman's like a speakerphone, you know, you just talk.

Hey, Jackie.

It's me, Billy.

Jackie, I'm so sorry I didn't pay attention when you needed help.

Me too.

Me too.

If it's any consolation, we're all paying attention now.

And I brought you a gift.

A lovely post -coma gift package from Estee Lauder.

Ironically, it has a revitalizer.

Okay, so I lied about the gift, but if you wake up, I promise I'll get you one.

See, I'm giving her incentive, right?

Just wish there was something we could do for her.

No, actually, I was ringing for an extra blanket. Oh, I'll get it. It's the

least I can do since I didn't bring the gift.

Thanks.

I'm Dave, by the way. I live with Jackie.

Oh, please don't think I'm a crappy mom. I didn't even know Jackie had a

boyfriend.

Boyfriend?

Not exactly your type.

Oh, you're gay.

Well, I'm not gay. No, she is.

But you didn't know.

Um, I'm sure she would have told you we're not for the coma.

You know, if it comes up, when she comes to, you know, I'd really appreciate it

if you act surprised.

Not a problem.

Thank you.

Have you never heard of triage?

Hello? Hello?

Excuse me.

I am amongst the insured, not to mention the bathed. Oh, I'm sorry. I was busy

helping this bleeding man.

Hemorrhaging. It's just horribly inconvenient to be injured on the

You just have to be a little patient.

That's what I want to be, darling, a little patient. But to do that, I have

have a little doctor.

Well, it might just be your attitude, Grandma.

My mama used to say you can catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

No offense, darling, but only an inbred redneck tries to attract flies.

No offense?

Well, back where I come from, we have a little thing called manners.

We say please and thank you. And even if you have something harsh to say about

someone, you always follow it up with bless her heart.

I'm nice for you. Yeah.

Because, for example, I might say, my mother -in -law is a self -centered,

inconsiderate shrew.

Bless her heart.

Well, that may soften the blow in the Ozarks, darling.

But here in Los Angeles, it still hurts.

I'm sorry, Grandma.

Oh, forgive me.

If you feel like that, then... I mean, after I welcomed you into the family, I

hugged you to my bosom, I took you to the José Ibermeco, but which never

took.

All I meant was, you know, it takes more muscles to frown than to smile.

Oh, not after the Botox injections, darling.

Sorry,

I snapped.

It's just that I'm in pain.

I know.

I hate waiting.

I'm really better at being waited upon.

But good things come to those who wait.

Like this little miracle in my tummy.

Oh, God.

Oh, I can't wait to see my little baby's face.

But I guess I'm going to have to, unless I want to stick a periscope up my hoo

-hoo.

Here in the big city, we use a sonogram.

I need a blanket.

Billy!

Mother! Oh, God, how did you know I was here?

Oh, you see, Tish, the prof...

connection between mother and child.

It's like some sort of psychic umbilical cord. It cannot be broken by distance

or lawyers.

Or even a sharp object.

No, really, are you okay? What are you doing here?

One of the church ladies that your mother drugged with the pot brownies at

baby shower attacked your mom with a poker and broke her toe.

I'm so sorry. Oh, darling, thank God you're here. And with a blanket.

Oh, and by chance, do you have any peanuts?

Gee, funny thing, Ademal. Wish I could say cancer. Even dinner won't be more

important than your mother and her dying request for peanuts. Mother, my friend

Jackie is in the hospital in a coma.

In the same hospital?

Oh, what a happy coincidence.

Perhaps happy's not the right word.

Uh, here's the right one. Goodbye.

Darling, darling, what about the profound mother -daughter bond?

Mother, my friend is in a coma, okay? You...

Have a broken toe. Let's measure the relative importance, shall we?

Coma toe.

Coma toe.

What does that mean, darling? Is it the plural of coma toes? It means that there

are things more important than you. Many, many things.

In fact, in the grand scheme of things, you and your toe are somewhere between

the lint in the belly button of a paramecium and Tina Yothers.

Does she smell like alcohol?

Oh, she's completely hammered. Bless her heart.

No, out of the way, please.

Excuse me.

You know,

candles have amazing healing powers.

Not when you light them near the oxygen?

Good point.

Sorry it took so long.

Do not believe all the lunatics in the waiting room. This waiting is so hard.

It's a bitch.

Once I waited in line for three days to see the dead. Oh, yeah, you're into the

Grateful Dead, huh? I have been to every show since 1966.

My name is Crystal Garcia.

As in Jerry Garcia and Jackie Garcia.

Jerry Garcia is Jackie's father?

Talk about a recessive gene.

Jerry isn't Jackie's father, technically.

How, that what, legally, like he adopted her?

No, but there are some legalities surrounding it.

Jerry has a restraining order against me.

Isn't he dead?

That's what I keep telling everybody.

But that was heirs to a man that I say 100 feet away from his ashes, which is

hard because they were scattered.

Yeah, but how did that make him Jackie's father?

Symbolically. In the sense that Jerry's God.

Oh.

I've literally got it. I know the Grateful Dead aren't literally God.

They're just people. I'm aware of that.

That's good.

And to be assuring since we're in such close quarters.

But I'm a deadhead. Yeah. And there is some mysticism involved in it.

Not to mention some traveling.

And I bet explaining.

Yeah.

Especially since Jerry's gone. I mean, it's hard to be a deadhead when the head

dead is dead.

Sure. Oh, I can imagine.

Wait, no, I can't.

Oh, my, she spoke.

She's talking. She said Sherry. No, no, no, I think she said Sherry. She said

Sherry. Not Sherry. Well, maybe Sherry. She's a drunk. I think she's talking

exactly as she spoke.

That's good, right?

We'll see. Take a look.

Gee.

Jackie, can you hear me?

Jackie, can you squeeze my hand?

Well. There's still no motor of verbal response, so she's not out of the woods

yet. We just have to wait.

I think I'm developing a weight problem.

Oh, you poor man.

Are you all right?

Let's see.

Hi, Mommy.

Oh, that's the first time anybody's ever called me that.

I guess I better get used to it, huh?

See, Mommy, see.

Oh, and I just feel great.

There's nothing like bringing a new life into the world to lift your spirits.

You lift a lot of things, Mommy.

Now, I'm not supposed to.

Excuse me, where's the minister?

Hey!

Mrs. Frank, please.

Don't call me that.

Okay, Trudy. How long to hear you say my name?

Well, I'm flattered, but I'm also frightened. Oh, to be young and

again. Um, you know, I would love to stay. I really have to use the men's

Oh, to be young and in the men's room again.

Don't you worry, Angel. You just lie back and relax.

Or better yet, sit up and be peppy.

You think she can hear us?

Hey, Jack, it's Pamela Anderson.

Naked. And look what's on her face. Whitney Houston.

Oh, no.

She's out.

I'll say.

Hey, maybe it would help if we threw water on her.

Because when I was in a coma, they threw water on me, woke right up.

When were you in a coma?

Oh, I'm saying elsewhere.

I'm an actress, you know.

Anyway, it's a good show, so maybe we should try it.

All right.

How much?

Well, I don't know. I mean, I didn't play a doctor.

Okay.

You been on any other shows?

Not medical.

Oh, God.

I hope she'll be okay.

You know, I spoke to God about that.

I asked him not to let Jackie die.

Actually, I sort of demanded it.

I could almost say I was obnoxious.

You think that was wise?

Well, I don't know.

He didn't talk back. He's kind of passive -aggressive that way.

Well, at least you tried.

It's nice to know.

She had friends.

She didn't have many when she was growing up because I moved her around so

Oh, don't blame yourself. I mean, I've lived here my whole life and I hardly

have any friends.

Do you blame your mother?

Ha! Every chance I get.

Oh, not that Jackie should blame you for anything. I mean, you should be proud.

Okay. Maybe heroin is a bad habit, but at least she doesn't bite her nails.

anyway. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm not used to saying

nice things. I mean, well, you can see why I hardly have any friends.

Yeah, I can, honey.

You know, when she was little, I used to watch her sleep.

She looked like such an angel.

When I took her to the Dead concert, she was so good.

She'd sleep through the whole thing.

She never woke up crying.

I wish she'd wake up now.

So do I.

No news.

Give me one of those, please.

Sure.

Thank God you started smoking again.

Yeah. I've done that drinking.

Although I have this unbelievable temptation to wring my shirt out of my

Ooh.

Respiration in vodka.

What's that called? A sweaty Russian?

You know, in the meetings they say it's not the big things that are going to

make you drink again. It's the little things.

It's like a busted shoelace or a...

drawer that won't open or flat tire. It's all bullshit. I haven't wanted to

drink this bad since I got sober.

I mean, you'd think Jackie in a drug -induced coma would make me want to stay

sober, but all I can think about is how good that kamikaze would taste.

I don't even like kamikazes.

I do.

Like everything about them. Like the sound that the

glass makes when the bartender puts it on the counter.

I like the way it feels in my hand.

And I bring it in close, and I can smell it, and a wave of relief goes through

my body even before I take the first sip.

You're slow. I'd be on my third one by now.

And then it feels so good as it goes down my throat, even though I know I'm

going to be puking my guts up the next morning.

Ah, but you can't worry about the next morning, remember?

One day at a time.

That ain't funny.

You know what ain't funny?

There is a bar right across the street called The Waiting Room.

I've never been there.

If I have been there, I've forgotten.

Yes, well, and if there was ever a night to forget, this is it.

It'd be great if we could just go over there and have one.

Yes. Because I can't stand this feeling.

You know, waiting and not knowing what's going to happen. It just makes me feel

so helpless.

It's because we are. And we have to surrender to that.

You're right.

Enough talk about drinking. Let's go.

Good.

Wait a minute. Where are you going?

To the bar. Where are you going?

I'm going to Jackie's.

When I said surrender, I meant to God, not to the alcohol.

Yeah, but the bar is right across the street, and God is so far away.

Dad, I don't like the term surrender. That's what losers do.

Not in this case.

He really has amazing suction.

Then he's a keeper, darling.

Hello.

Hi. Look, I've been sitting next to this lovely man who's been hawking for over

an hour.

And charming a conversation his daddy is. I grow tired of dodging the phlegm,

since I'm in extreme...

Pain, anyway.

Talk to myself.

Why don't I just drag myself up to that attractive nurse?

Charming hairdo, by the by.

Bye -bye. Look, look, look. You're a businesswoman. No, I'm a nurse. Don't

contradict me.

But I really am a nurse. Have it your way.

No, honey, if I had it my way, you'd be in another hospital.

Surely you don't want to be a nurse forever.

Now, surely I do. Thus the many years spent in nursing school.

You... Oh, Helen.

I'll give you $20 for a Vicodin.

What? My dealer only charges $10.

I think I'll give him a call. The payphone's right over there.

They're walking away from the injured!

Why don't we just rename this hospital? I'll let you if I don't give a shit!

What happened? What happened? Is she okay? Her breathing sounded funny, so I

called a doctor.

Cardiac.

Oh, God.

Holy shit. All my life, my mom said that Jerry Garcia is God.

And what do you know?

She was right.

I mean, who would have thought that God was a fat, hedonistic junkie? Hey, hey,

hey. I'm a little sensitive about the weight.

Sorry. I mean, after all, the universe is expanding. Why can't I?

Oh, I have so many questions, you know? Like, do I get my wings right now, or do

I have to work my way up like in It's a Wonderful Life?

Yes, you have to work your way up. Oh, cool!

Everybody's always so excited.

You'd think they'd want their wings right away.

Well, you might be just a little out of touch, which leads me to my next

question.

Where the hell were you?

What? Yeah.

Where were you today when Martin Luther King Jr.

got shot?

I don't know if you've heard about this one, but we had a little problem with a

guy named Hitler, and all the times I fucking prayed to you. Where were you

then, huh?

I needed you, and I asked for your help, and you didn't answer.

I did.

Just not the way you wanted.

Please forgive me.

Get me two amps of Epi.

Pressure's still dropping.

Pupils dilated. Help her!

Come on.

What's happening?

What is that?

Ah,

Jackie! If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.

She's responding.

She's back.

Oh, my feet!

Thank God you're okay, Jack.

That reminds me of the strangest dream, you know?

You were there.

Uh -huh. And you were there.

Oh. And who the fuck are you?

Uh -huh.

There is nothing better than your first post -coma cigarette.

Except for your second.

You know, I can't believe I prayed for Jackie, and it actually worked.

You prayed?

Sure. I mean, just because I don't believe in God doesn't mean I don't

in God.

You know what I mean?

No, I don't.

Pretend you do.

Anyway, if I'd have known that this praying crap actually worked, I would

started a long time ago.

Next time, I think I'll pray for a Porsche.

You want anything?

I don't think you're supposed to pray for the things that you want.

Well, what am I supposed to pray for, the things I don't want?

Fine, next time I'll pray for herpes.

No, no, I think that you're supposed to pray for the strength to accept God's

will.

You pray your way and I'll pray mine, okay?

And if you're nice, I will drive you to church in my Porsche.

What if God's will had been for Jackie to die?

Yes, but she didn't. She's okay.

Are we?

You know, we almost drank twice tonight.

Yeah, but we didn't.

Thank you.

Do you know what?

You didn't have to throw a drink on me. You threw two on me. One of the ice

cubes, I think, damaged an eye. Oh, no, no, baby. Which one? I will kiss you and

make it all better.

I have my penis.

Oh.