All language subtitles for Two and a Half Men (2003) - S04E08 - Release the Dogs (1080p AMZN WEB-DL x265 RCVR)

Ah! Oh! Oh!

Oh! Oh!

Oh, God!

Oh! Oh, God.

Oh, God.

(moaning)

Oh, God. Oh...

Oh, God. Oh. God.

Oh, God.

I was picturing something
entirely different.

I couldn't sleep.

So you decided to make
your nipples hard?

Oh, the peas. No.

I was heating up
some milk and...

You know, my
nipple is hard.

If you can't sleep,
why don't you just take a pill?

I don't believe in pills.

What about booze?

You believe in booze?

That's not sleeping--
that's passing out.

Pot-ay-to, pot-ah-to.

I just, I have
a lot on my mind.

I don't need
to drug myself.

Okay, in that case
I doknow a great,

all-natural sleep aid.

What's that?

Sex. You should get
yourself some sex.

It'll put you right out.
Charlie.

Look at me. I can hardly
keep my eyes open.

Well, sex is not really
an option at the moment.

You're telling me you
can't make a fist?

Just leave me alone.

How about exercise?

It's kinda like sex,
but without the condom.

You know,
that's not a bad idea.

Well, you shouldalways
wear a condom.

No, I-I mean the exercise.

I-I could go
for a run on the beach.

Sure, I've seen
people do that.

Usually they have a dog,
but I think that's optional.

Actually, that's a great idea.

Oh, where you gonna get
a dog at this hour.

You really enjoy screwing
with me, don't you?

Well, you don't pay rent.

You know what?

I'm gonna do it.

Pay rent?

No...

I'm gonna jog down
to the pier and back.

Maybe I can burn off
my excess energy.

Attaboy.

Nah, I prefer the tater-tots.

This will do it.

Burn off the energy.

That's interesting.

(humming Chariots of Fire theme)

Nice night for a run.

How rude.

HELICOPTER PILOT:
This is the Los Angeles
Sheriff's Department.

Stop running and drop to the
ground with your arms spread.

Oh, no, no, no!

You've got the wrong guy!

The guy you want ran that way!

This is your last warning.

Drop to the ground
with your arms spread.

You don't understand!

Follow me! I'll show you!

(siren wailing)

Put your hands behind your head
and drop to your knees!

No, no, you don't understand.

I just couldn't sleep.

Release the dogs!

Dog-dogs?

No, no, no...

No dogs.

(dogs barking)

(dogs barking)

All right, all right,
I'm coming.

(doorbell ringing)

This better be good.

Hey, it is good.

Charlie, tell them who I am.

I'm sorry, who are you?

Charlie, if you don't
tell them who I am,

they're gonna take me to jail.

Why do you keep
calling me Charlie?

Sir, is this man
living here or not?

Define "living."

Charlie, I swear
on my son's life...

Yeah, he lives here.

I told you.

I've got your badge
numbers. I am gonna write

a scathing
letter to...
Shut up.

Thank you, Officers.

You are a credit
to the Malibu community.

You have
a nice evening.

At least this clown
didn't ask if I was Jewish.

So.

How was your run?

* Men.

(drumming musically)

(both drumming)

(dishes rattle
in time to the beat)

Enough... drumming.

Fine.

Bass solo.

* Boom, boom, boom,
boom, boom, boom... *

Come on.

I-I'd like to have
a nice, quiet dinner.

And I'd like you
to be a keno waitress

who can fit her entire
hand in her mouth,

but here you sit.

I-I'm sorry,
I'm a little cranky.

I haven't slept in two days.

Why don't you take a pill?

He doesn't believe in pills.

How can you not believe in them?

They're on TV all the time.

Let me tell you something, Jake.

Big pharmaceutical companies
want you to think

you can take a pill
for everything.

Can't sleep? Take a pill.

Can't wake up? Take a pill.

Feeling sad? Take a pill.

Can't get it up? Take a pill.

Can't get what up?

Can we just eat
our dinner, please?

Can I got back
to Mom's tomorrow?

Why?

I want to hang out
with my friends.

What? All of a sudden
your father's

not good enough for you?

It's not all of a sudden.

Come on, Alan,
the kid's growing up.

He's got his own life now.

All right, fine.

How about you have your friends
come over here?

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

No kids in my house.

I'm a kid.

Well, I don't think of you
as a kid.

I think of you as more of a...
gassy dwarf.

Charlie,

you said it yourself--

he's growing up.

Getting a life of his own.

He'll be going off
to college soon.

I'll only see him on holidays...

only hear from him
when he needs money.

Not that I'll have any.

I'll still be paying alimony
to two ex-wives.

And college tuition?

That just means selling an organ
or turning tricks.

And for what?

So that he can get
a worthless piece of paper

that he can then
fold into a hat

to wear to the fast-food job

that he will probably
be fired from

for stealing fries
from the customers' bags.

I dolike fries.

* Men.

(quietly):
Sure, you can sleep.

You have no conscience.

Wake up!

What?

It's noon.

What day?

Saturday.

Thanks. See you Sunday.

Charlie, I have to go out.

I need you to watch
Jake and his friend.

Friend?

I thought I said no kids.

You say lots
of stuff.

Twice a week you say
you'll never drink again.

I don't know what
to believe anymore.

Where are you going?

I'm gonna have
to run some errands.

So take the kids with you.

I can't.

Then run your errands later.

Oh, would you
please just get

your drunken ass
out of bed

and stop being a waste of
skin for once in your life?!

Well, since you said "please."

Thank you.

I'm, I'm sorry I barked at you.

You still can't sleep, huh?

No.

Well, don't worry,
I'm here for you.

I'll keep an eye
on the kids.

I appreciate it.

No problem.

It's like he's never met me.

Nothing seems to work.

I-I've tried
warm milk, exercise,

meditation, self-hypnosis.

Why don't you just take a pill?

Because I don't need a pill.

The root of my insomnia
is psychological.

That is why I'm sitting here
with you, a psychologist.

I'm a psychiatrist,
a medical doctor,

which is why
I can prescribe pills.

Is that some kind of shot at me

because I'm just
a chiropractor?

No, of course not,

but I am a real doctor.

Look, can you help me or not?

You know,
delve into my subconscious

and unravel the source
of my problem?

Sure, I'll give it a shot.

So, when was the last time
you had sex?

This has nothing to do with sex!

This has to do with alimony
and ex-wives and child support

an-and writing checks
I can't cover

and having to live on my
brother's freaking hide-a-bed.

Okay, why don't we start
with your brother?

What does my brother
have to do with this?

Who's the doctor here?

Okay, that was a shot.

You got me.

Now tell me about your brother.

What is there to say? Um...

He's two years older than me,
but much more immature.

He's charming and easygoing.

Of course, why shouldn't he be?

He's never had to work for
anything in his entire life.

Money and women
just seem to fall

into his big, fat, lucky lap.

So you resent him.

Oh, no, I love him.
He took me in

when I needed
a place to live.

Okay. You say
you love your brother,

you're grateful for his help,

and yet it must be difficult
to watch him sail through life

while you remain a complete
and utter failure.

I didn't say I was
a complete failure.

Huh.

Why is it in my notes?

Anyway, continue.

Okay.

Well, the worst part is

that as selfish and promiscuous
as Charlie is,

he hasn't suffered
any consequences.

No palimony suits, no bullet
wounds from angry husbands.

Not so much as a lousy
urinary tract infection.

And yet you love him.

Well, he's family.

Oh... Oh, I get it.

You think it's this
internal contradiction

that's the source
of my insomnia.

What do you think?

I think you may be right.

But how do I resolve it?

Well, that's a good question.

Unfortunately,
we're out of time.

Already?

You dozed off for
40 minutes, Alan.

You going to charge me for that?

I was awake.

All right, fine.
Can I write you a check?

Oh, boy.

Alan, you know, when a patient
tells me they're writing checks

they can't cover, I kind of have
a little cash only policy.

All right,
where's the closest ATM?

Downstairs in the lobby.

I'll be right back.

I'll walk with you.

* Men.

(computer chimes)

(chuckles)

(computer chimes)

(chuckles)

(computer chimes)

(chuckles)

Hey.

What you doing?

Chatting.

With who?

Each other.

But you're in the same room.

(computer chimes)
(laughing)

What are you typing?
Is that about me?

No.

(computer chimes)

Down the hall on the right.

BRB.

"BRB"?

"Be right back."

Ah.

Well... YAD.

What's that?

You're a dog.

She's cute.

She's just a friend.

R-R-R-uff.

What are you doing?

Oh, come on, it's me
you're talking to.

The big dog.

(howling)

You're starting
to freak me out.

(doorbell rings)

GIRL:
That's my mom.

I'll get it.

Okay, okay, I lied--
I like her.

Oh, really?

Yeah. Woof.

There you go.

Wait, don't open the door.

Why not?
(doorbell ringing)

Coming.

Go to your room.

What are you nuts?

Please don't hit on her.

Hit on who?

Taylor's mom.

Why would I hit
on Taylor's mom?

Well, because
she's kind of pretty,

and you'll hit on
anything with a pulse.

Where'd you get that?

My mom.

Oh, well...

And my dad, Berta,
Rose, Grandma...

Okay, okay.

The UPS man...

All right.

And when you hit on
people I know,

everything gets screwed up

where I have to find
a new guitar teacher,

a new karate class,
Cub Scout troop...

Okay, okay, I get it.

...godmother.

You don't have
to worry.

I'm not going to risk
our friendship over
"kind of pretty."

So you won't
hit on her?

Absolutely not.

Hi. I'm Taylor's mom.

Scratch that.

Great. Bye.

You promised.

No, no. No, no. The head
that made the promise

is not the one that broke it.

And besides, you said she
was just kind of pretty?

Who do you
consider hot?

Taylor.

Taylor's 12.

Hello?

Come on, what's the worst thing
that could happen

if I go out with your
little friend's mom?

Do I have to explain
it to you again?

My guitar teacher,
my karate coach...

Okay, okay.

I can't show my face
at the comic book store.

All right, but the worst thing
doesn't have to happen.

Would you please just
not go out with her?

Tell you what--
I'll make you a deal.

I'll give up Taylor's mom
in exchange

for you washing my car
once a week for the next month.

Done.

That includes Turtle Wax,
tire dressing

and vacuuming the carpets.
Oh, man.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, the woman
is recently divorced.

I didn't ask for her number,
she gave it to me.

Do you know what that means?
No.

That means one, maybe two
dinners, and...

You're waxing my car.

All right.

You're lucky you're not
painting the house.

The sacrifices we make
for our kids.

Hey.

Hey.

You look like crap.

Thank you.
You look terrific.

I feel terrific.

The key is a good night's sleep.

Yeah, listen, uh,

I have to talk to you.

This is a bad
time, Alan.
How come?

Because you want
to talk to me.

Okay, what?

Uh, you know I love you, right?

Alan, are you
breaking up with me?

Would you just shut up
and listen to me?

Pick one, Alan.

All right, all right,
I talked to a therapist.

And I think
I learned something.

Nah, too easy.
Go ahead.

The thing is...

all these years of watching
your life go so smoothly,

while I stumble back and forth

between humiliation
and abject failure,

has resulted in me harboring
a lot of anger

and jealousy towards you.

Yeah, I get that.

How could it not?

Anyway, I think the tension
between my love for you

and my resentment of you
is what's causing my insomnia.

And?

And I thought maybe if
I got it out in the open,

it might help me sleep.

So how do you feel now?

Better, actually.

Like... like a weight
has been lifted.

Well, good.

Yeah, maybe that's it.

Maybe all I needed to do
was unload.

Well, a good unloading
usually makes me drowsy.

You're disgusting.

True...

but I sleep
like a baby.

And if I wake up fussy,

there's always something
nearby to put in my mouth.

* Men.

(whistling tune)

I waxed your car.

What? What are you doing up?

You were out with Taylor's mom,
weren't you?

No, I wasn't.

Are you sure?

I think I know
who I was out with.

Okay, well, maybe you
can explain this picture

of your perfectly waxed
car in Taylor's driveway.

Where the hell'd you get that?

Taylor took it with her phone
and e-mailed it to me.

Oh, okay.

Not my car.

What about this one of you

kissing Taylor's mom
in front of the car?

Um...

Photoshop.

How was your date?

Very nice.

Bite me.

Okay, well, good night.

You said you wouldn't
go out with her and you did.

I had to, Jake.

She called me.

What difference does that make?

I have to explain it to you?

I have to explain
everything to you.

Okay, okay.

Let's say you're a hunter.

If a deer takes your gun,
shoots itself,

then straps itself
to the roof of your car,

you have to take it home
and eat it.

What?

I'm sorry.

I can't make it any clearer.

If you keep seeing her, Uncle
Charlie, you're gonna be sorry.

Whoa.

Is that a threat?

No, it's a promise.

What's the difference?

I don't know-- one's a threat
and one's a promise.

(sighs)

Oh, come on, buddy,
let's be reasonable here.

Your relationship with
your little friend is what,

instant messaging and holding
hands at the pep rally?

What's a pep rally?

Just listen to me.

Before you know it, you'll have
forgotten all about Taylor.

And you'll have forgotten
all about her mother.

No doubt.

But I guarantee you
I'll be forgetting a lot more

than holding her hand
at a pep rally.

Last chance, Uncle Charlie.

Ooh, I'm so scared.

(mocking):
Last chance, Uncle Charlie.

(scoffs)
Please.

CHARLIE:
Jake...!

What's going on?

Nothing.
Got to go.

You're dead.

You are so dead!

(screams)

(thud)

Damn it.

He went that way.

Great slime.

Thanks.

It's an old family recipe.

Where are you, you rat bastard?!

MAN (over speaker):
This is the Los Angeles
Sheriff's Department!

Get down on the sand
with your arms spread!

It's okay!

I'm just trying to kill a kid!

Release the dogs!

(dogs barking)

* Men.

That's right.

Release the dogs.

(yawns)