All language subtitles for 985937898DE8667F8605BD874C61A121_eng

until 1975,

the medical community had no
idea what Lyme disease even was.

All we knew was that it caused
psychiatric disturbances

and severe
neurological disorders.

- Even so, it seems
that over the last four years,

this disease has become
no less debilitating,

especially here
in the tristate suburban area.

- I assure you
that the medical community

is very close to developing
a treatment for Lyme disease

because we now know the source.

- The tick, right?

- Well, technically,
the infection stems

from the blood of the deer.

The tick is just
the transmitter.

- Well, in any case,
what precautions

should people be taking?

Okay, let's have 'em.

- Give me liberty
or give me death.

- Hey, it's not funny.

The last thing we need
is for him to get sick.

He shouldn't even be next door

in all those weeds
without the tape.

- You need a haircut.

- Oh, sorry, Mick,
all gone.

- Ticks, I can handle.

But you,
that's a different story.

- I'll be outside.

- Hey, don't go far.

You're paranoid.

- I'm sorry, Mick.

I just-- you know,
I have this bad feeling

in the pit of my stomach.

- It's a tradition.

Besides, you know
I haven't been able

to spend a lot of time
with him lately.

- Yeah, well,
he's not the only one.

We don't actually kill anything.

I even started using blanks
like you asked me to.

- Listen, Mick,
it’s just dangerous now, okay?

Look at Charlie.

Charlie?

I wouldn't be surprised
if we found out

this whole thing
was psychosomatic.

Okay, let’s just forget
about the whole thing.

But I'm not gonna be the one
that lets him down.

- What are you doing?

Still with that
stupid quarter trick?

- No.

- You know, they say no matter
where you are on Long Island,

you can always hear the train.

Can't get far enough away.

- Yeah, I heard that.

- No, you didn't.

I just told you.

- You.

Fucking guy.

So you-- what are you doing
F-Friday, Satur--

what are you--

I'm busy Friday.

You know you want this.

Don't lie.

Don't lie to me.

You're something special.

Yeah, you are.

- Scott, breakfast.

- Uh, coming.

- Hey, hold on.

- Who's there?
- I'm coming.

Don't shoot.

Oh, wow.

Nice shot, Mr. Bragg.

- I told you
not to come around here.

That could have been
your head.

- I thought you were
the best shot in your unit.

- Doesn't matter.

Accidents happen.
Don't you understand that?

Here.

Yeah, that's a good shot.

Yeah, I couldn't go this year
on the hunting trip,

but, uh, how'd you do?

- I don't know.
My mom wouldn't let us go.

- Well, that's a fucking shame.

It was abundant, I heard.

Deer as far as you could see.

- Mm-hmm.
- Yeah?

Yeah, I still have
quite a bit left over

from two years ago, you know?

And I cured it myself.

- Oh, really?
- Mm-hmm.

You want to--
you want to see it?

- Uh, see what?

- There it is.

You got your shank,
your hocks,

shoulder.

Those are ribs,
really good ribs.

And that right there,
that's the ass.

- The what?

- The ass.

- Do you really eat that?

- Well, yeah.

That's the best part.

- You like ass?

- Yes, oh, yeah.
Here.

Tell you what.

There you go.

- Yeah, I just don't want it
to go bad in the locker.

- You're turning down
a piece of ass?

- Well, I mean, I--
I share a locker with someone,

and I don't-- I don't know
if they'd want

a piece of ass
in the locker, you know?

- Hey, Scotty.

- Hi.

- You taking this to school
with you today?

- Oh, oh, yeah, I--

- Yeah, why don't you
go find Adrianna?

Nice suit.

- Yeah, my mom made me wear it.

- Your mom still makes you
wear things?

I wouldn't go broadcasting that
if I were you.

- The sweater...

looks nice.

- This suit, though,
is kind of--

just doesn't fit me
the way--

- You know what?
I'm gonna be late.

Let's talk about it
in the car, okay?

- Well, no, I called a cab.
It's all right.

- Why, especially now,
are we wasting money on cabs

when I have
a flexible enough job

to drive you to the station
and pick you up?

- Because I don't want
to put you out, all right?

I have all these interviews
all over the city.

- Every day,
you have an interview.

- Melissa, listen.

This thing-- this thing,
it's kicked my ass.

You know that.

Something good is gonna happen.
I promise.

Really.

- Okay.
- You look nice.

- Don't forget
to take your pills.

- You have a nice day.

- Ever since he got sick,

he spends more time
with the stupid dead deer

than he does with us.

It's humiliating.

- Well, maybe because he doesn't
have a job or whatever,

it's-- you know, it's his way
of making up for it.

You know, like, he, uh--

he hunts for food or whatever.

- That's a very interesting
observation and all, but no.

I don't think so.

- I mean,
it's not like you guys

are the Munsters or anything.

- I, uh-- I got to go.

I'll see you later.

- It's the American dream,
Mr. Patel,

right here on Long Island.

Uh, in all honesty, Mr. Patel,
we've had a lot of interest,

but as they say,
no cigar.

I told your wife,
if you’re the first house built,

you have your pick
of exposures.

The sun does rise
in the east, yes.

Where does it rise in India,
Mr. Patel?

- What's the matter?

- It's-- it's just been
a rough couple weeks.

You don't want
to hear my sob story.

- Well-- well, look,
we're friends first, right?

- I'm sorry.

I'm just a little emotional.

- I understand.

- Charlie's...

Charlie is not the guy
that I married.

- Well, we all change
somewhat, no?

- Yeah, I know,
but, God, why me?

I mean, a bus, a robbery,
an accident.

But Lyme disease?

- Hey, look,

you're not the one
who has Lyme disease, right?

- Smile.

Okay.

Next.

- Enjoy yourself now,
dick weed.

Fartlett.

- Okay, look at the birdie.
Look at me.

- I will fucking
destroy you there,

blue eyes.

Today I'm gonna shove
a telephone pole

so far up your bung--

- Come on.
Give me a smile.

- I think Blaze Salado
is into me.

- Whatever.

- Well, what do you think
I should do?

I mean, he's so mint.

But I don't know.

- His real name isn't Blaze.

It's something really dorky
like Barry.

Hey, Fartlett.

We need to talk.

- We do?
- Yeah.

Unless you're too scared.

- No, I'm not scared.

- Get over here,
you little dick.

Nice suit, Fartlett.

- What do you want?

- I see your nigger-rich daddy

driving all over town
in his Porsche,

and I want some money
for my own, okay?

- Todd, what the fuck?

Let him go.
You're such an animal.

- $20 every Friday.

Oh, you motherfucker.

Get the fuck over here.

Fuck over here.

Add $20, ass wipe.

- Asshole loser.

- Slutty whore.

- Scott, are--
are you okay?

Do you want me
to call your mom or something?

- No, I'm fine.

- Well, how are you
gonna get home?

- Jesus, just get
the fuck out of here.

- Well, I'm just saying,
I can call your mom if you want.

She can bring you an ice pack
or some Yoo-hoo or something.

- Just-- what the fuck
is wrong with you?

Just go.

- Fine.

- I missed the fricking bus.

- This is the best birthday
present I could possibly get.

But in your letter,
you said

that you wouldn't be here
till next week.

I mean, I've got it--
look, right here.

- It's okay.
Ma, I know. I know.

I got out a week early.

I just forgot to call
is all, okay?

- Okay, you know, I just--

I-- you know me.
I like to be prepared.

You know,
I wouldn't have made that.

Oh, honey, you look so thin,

you know, like you got
rickets in your bones.

I mean, what do
they feed you there?

- Um, pretty much
this kind of stuff.

- Oh, God almighty.
- I'm sorry.

No, it's great. I love it.
It's great. Thank you.

Mm, before I left,

my commanding officer told me
I might be activated

because of the Falklands,
so basically I'm here

till told otherwise.

- Ooh, the Balkan Islands.
I saw that on TV.

- Balkan, Falkland.

- Hello?

Hi, honey. Hi.

Guess who.

- Yeah, where is
the little shit?

- R2-D2, is that really you?

Jim.

- Hey, Jim.
- Hey.

Oh, you got big.

No, no, no, okay, you know,
I mean, uh, mature,

like, uh--
like a little lady.

- Yeah, you look good too.

- Ah, yes, yeah, thank you.

Uh, basic training
is a real bitch,

but, you know,
it really whips you into shape.

- I thought you were coming
next week.

- What?
Like, 1,000 sit-ups a day.

CO's a real hard-ass.

- Oh, really? Wow.

- I take your compliment well.

Hmm?

- I thought you were coming
next week.

- Yeah, well, I'm early.

What's this?

- What are you gonna do?

- Stay here.

- You want to get
the fuck out here?

- What the fuck?
- Fucking--

- What the fuck?

Get off me.

Get the fuck off me.

- Never again.

Do you understand me?

I'll fucking kill you!

- Jimmy, stop.
- You're fucking dead!

- All right, enough, Jimmy.

- Oh!

Shit.

- So you learned all that
in the army?

- To fight?

No, they teach you
how to kill there.

- With your hands?

- Hands, you know, guns,

knives, grenades, whatever.

- So did you have to register
them as lethal weapons?

- What, my hands?

I think the army
does that for you.

- Fucking A,
that's cool, Jim.

So you had to control yourself,

like, your instincts.

That is awesome.

- Oh, but about your eye...

- Oh, yeah, no,
I'll tell Mom

I was playing dodgeball
or something.

- Good man.

Does it hurt?

Oh!

I'm sorry about that.
- Dick.

Oh!

You all right?

- Fucking asshole.

So lucky you got Jimmy today,

'cause if that shit was me...

Call me Fartlett?
Yeah, that's cool.

Call me Fartlett. Whatever.
You know, whatever.

But you know
what they say.

You hit a guy like this,

boom, dead.

Wah-wah-wah.

Bah.

Molly Molloy,

born in Dubuque, Iowa.

Has a dog named Stella
and feeds it red meat only.

Adrianna Bragg,

15, now in the 11th grade,

Syosset High,

no dog.

- Scotty, it's my birthday.

Come down
and eat already.

- Happy birthday.

- Oh, my God.

- I'll bet I make the cover
of Architectural Digest.

- And it's yours?

- No, I bought it
for the rag heads up the block

that just hit the lotto.

Yes, it's mine.
It's ours.

Here, let me show you.

This is gonna be
the laundry room right here.

This is the kitchen.

I put in one of those center
islands that we talked about.

You're gonna love it.
It's beautiful.

Scott, this is gonna be
your room.

- Wow, looks like
the Millennium Falcon.

- Yeah, Mick, it's, uh--
it's very modern.

- Yeah, it's modern.
It's ultramodern.

I used the best architect
on the island.

- Really?

Is there still time to--
I don't know--

maybe, uh, take the edge off
somehow?

- Take the edge off?
You're kidding, right?

- No.

-You meant Millennium Falcon
in a good way?

- Yeah, definitely.

- Check this out.

This is where the sunroom
is gonna be

with the eastern exposure.

Get that morning light
that we talked about-- beautiful.

The windows are double-paned,
plate glass, slightly tinted.

They cost a fortune,
but they are--

smooch!

beautiful.

- Yeah, but wouldn't it
just be cheaper

if we built a sunroom
on our house?

- We don't have the acreage
on our property.

We could build
a tennis court here.

- We don't have any
tennis players in our family.

- Maybe you could learn.

- We could put
a tennis court in now

if I wanted to learn, Mickey.

- Well, yeah, we could put in
an aboveground pool too.

But we might as well
be back in Queens.

- It wouldn't be
such a bad thing, would it?

- To be back in Queens?
- Yeah.

- Come on, Mom. Don't argue.
It's your birthday.

- We'll be inside.

You could have
at least warned me.

I mean, a decision like this
you make without asking me,

moving our family?

- It's next door.

We're not moving.
We're upgrading, you know?

In with the new.

Out with the old.

Fucker.

- What is it with Queens?

She's like Dorothy
in The Wizard of Oz.

- It's different there.

She had her neighbors around
to complain to.

Takes her mind off the problems.

- What problems?

She doesn't have
any problems.

- You sound like Dad.

- I do?

They don't even fuck anymore.

- What? How the fuck
do you know that?

- You know the rubbers
under Dad's bed

we used to use
as water balloons?

- Ew, yeah.

- They haven't been there
in over a year.

- Okay, well, first of all,

that's sick
to even think about,

and second, she's coming,
so shut the fuck up.

- Found them
in my window well.

- What if they have parents
who will be worried

if they don't come home?

- Yeah, if frogs worry,
I guess.

- What do you think would happen
if I didn't come home?

- They'd look for you.

- Who?

- I don't know.

Maybe they'd send
Blaze Salad Fuck.

I'm kidding.

Really, I'm-- you know, I'm sorry
he never asked you out.

- It was weird
seeing you get your ass kicked.

- Well, he's bigger than me.

Wasn't a fair fight.

- Yeah, but-- I don't know--

I felt like you were,
like, my, uh--

my little brother or something.

- Really?

Your brother?

- Yeah.

- Yeah, I better go.

- What? No, come on.

I'm-- I'm kidding.
I was joking.

I didn't-- I didn't mean it
in a bad way.

No, I was--
I was just kidding.

- I'm not mad.
- God, you're being such a--

- No, you're supposed
to smother it with something.

Then you can pull it out.

- Shut up.

Can you just shut up
and let me do this?

- What is wrong with you?

- Is it a bad one, Dad?

- Yeah.

- What do you mean,
a bad one?

- Deer tick.

- Oh, my God.

Oh, my God.

- Yeah.

- Well, where did it happen,
outside or in the house or--

- I don't know.

It's filled with blood.

- Oh, my God.

Scotty, I'm so--

- How are you feeling?
You feeling okay?

- I'm so sorry.
- Yeah, I'm fine.

- He'll probably have
to get a--

- What?

- Blood transfusion.

I'm kidding.

It's not a bad one.

- That's not funny.

That's not funny.

- Whoo.

- Charlie, why don't you
take him home, okay?

Stop scratching.

Let me see.

- It's not a bad one.

All right?

- Would you take him home?

- Come on.
Come on. Let's go.

Lighten up.

- Look at it through here.

- Lovely.

Okay, okay, don't--

- It's not funny.
- I'm just kidding.

You're hurting my arms.

Jesus.

- Cotton Bowl,
a young Joe Montana,

absolutely unbelievable.

He fell ill...

- All right.

What? What is it?

- What does it feel like?

- What does this feel--
this feels like

just a perpetual acid trip,
is what this feels like.

- What are you laughing at?
I'm kidding.

You don't know
what an acid trip is.

- Hey, do you know
what an acid trip is?

- No, I have no fucking idea.

- Good.

Good.

No, it changes.

I mean, sometimes,
it feels like, um,

the flu,
and other times, it's worse,

like, um, you know,
my head's on fire kind of.

Yeah.

Hey, uh,

you probably don't want to tell
your mom about the tick.

Right? No tick?

- Right, no tick.
- No tick?

- No-no tick.

- Brenda.

Hi.

- Oh, Melissa, hi.
- Hi.

How are you?

How's your new house?

- Oh-oh, it's--
it's coming quickly.

Yeah, I'm very happy
with it.

- So I'm seeing you today,
right?

- Oh, why would you be?

- Well, Mickey said
that the boys

were coming out to the site.

I just-- well, I figured you
were coming along with them.

- Right.

Yeah, um...

God, well,
it's Thanksgiving, though.

Aren't-- are you working today?

- Indians, you know.

They have different holidays
than us.

Hey, how's Scott doing?

I'm sorry. I was--

I was gonna call you.

- I'm sorry.
What do you mean?

- He didn't tell you
about the tick?

- Stop picking.

- Mom, this is ridiculous.

- Do you have any idea
how sick you could have gotten?

Do you?

- I just look like
a total dingus.

Did he call?

- Did who call?

- Dad.

- No.

- Are you mad?

- Just don't start lying
to me Scott, okay?

- Ma, I didn't lie.

You didn't ask me anything.

- You should have told me,
Scotty.

Just tell me next time, okay?

That's it.

- Maybe you should have
had a girl.

They tell their mothers
everything.

- Well, maybe you should have
asked God

for a mother who doesn't care
about her children.

Look, just don't argue
with me right now, okay?

I'm sorry.
I'm very tired.

Hello.

Yeah, they're both here.

Jimmy's asleep.

Look, was there any reason
I wasn't informed

of this little field trip?

Yeah, um, you know what?

I don't want to hear it,

uh, and I don't have time
anyway.

Dinner's at 4:00 sharp.

Go wake your brother.

- The idea is to presell off
the model, as many as I can,

then borrow from the bank
to build.

This is, uh, Scott street,
and this is James.

- Nobody calls me James
anymore.

- Had I known, Jim,
I would have named you,

you know, Boardwalk,
Park Place,

Lexington, Madison.

- Why don't we just move here?

- Well, this
is affordable housing

for people making
$20,000, $30,000 a year.

That's not us anymore.

- Well, how much
do you make?

- That's a bad habit, Scott,

asking people how much money
they make.

Your dad, it's okay.

But by this time next year,

we will officially
be millionaires.

And you can quit
that army shit,

make some real dough, right?

- What problems
do they have?

- I'll tell you
when you're of age, all right?

Trust me.

Oh, shit.

Oh, this is embarrassing.

- Hi, guys.

- Man.

- Oh, jeez.

Ugh.

- Oh, my God.

Oh.

Ah.

Gosh.

Oh.

I'm sorry. I must have
fallen asleep up there.

How is it?
Is it--

- Uh, sad to say,
this bird has seen better days.

Ow.

- Oh, I...

Where's your father?

Oh, God, what a waste.

Ah, well, at least
we have each other, right?

Yeah?

Oh, I'm sorry.

- Dad's site is awesome.

- How nice.

- Yeah, it's-- it's huge,

like, the size of six
football fields tied together.

- Wow.

- Yeah, it's supposed to be
like a modern-day Levittown.

You should go out there.

Really, it's amazing.

Dad said,
by this time next year,

we'll be millionaires.

- More money,
more problems.

Jimmy, do you remember
how we used to lay out

on our roof in Queens,
remember?

- Oh, yeah, yeah,
and what's-his-name,

the old nut next door--
what's his name?

- Oh, J--
um, Veltry.

- Veltry, right.

Oh, yeah, he'd just sit
in his window for hours,

lurking like--

- Yeah, exactly, like that,
with that face.

- Did you burn any turkeys
back then, Dorothy?

- Dorothy?

You-- you said Dorothy, right?

What did you mean by that?

- Because all you have to do
is click your heels together,

and you're back in Queens.

Ah.

On that note.

Anybody up
for a hot game of Monopoly?

Yeah.

- Good, 'cause I am.

Shit. Shit.

I'm-- God damn it, I'm--

- All right.

Wow.

- Sometimes I just feel
so stupid, you know?

- It's okay, Mom.

- Hi, Dad.
- Hey.

- What do you think?

- Um...

nice shoes.

- Could you--
could you zip this up for me?

- Uh, sure.

Sweetie, don't you think
you're gonna be kind of cold

with-- with all
the back exposed like that?

- Dad, Dad, come on.

It's fine.
I have a jacket.

And it's a church party.

- The-- the strap thing,
the pink--

- Yes.
- You can see it.

- Dad, since when did you
become such a square?

- But do you know
that you can see it?

- Yeah, yeah, it's--
it's part of the dress.

- That's what they're--
that's the look?

- That's what the girls
are wearing these days.

- Okay.
- All right.

Are you sure you're not
gonna come to the church party?

- No, I have a lot of, uh,
irons in the fire.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah, I'm sure.

Um, have a great time, okay?

- I will. Love you. Bye.
- All right, sweetie.

I love you.

Lights look great.

Yeah, they're gonna be beautiful
all over the house.

- Our Father,
who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come,
thy will be done

on Earth
as it is done in heaven.

And lead us not
into temptation,

but deliver us from evil,

and deliver us, Lord,
from all evil,

and grant us peace this day.

Peace be with you.

all: And also with you.

- And now let's offer
one another

a gesture of peace today.

- Peace be with you.

- And also with you.

- Peace be with you, honey.

- Thy shall never love
another.

- And stand by me
all the while.

- Take happiness
with the heartaches.

- What's up,
Mr. Saturday Night Fever?

- Merry Christmas.

- Do you like?

- Not bad.

- Not bad?

Come on.
Better than not bad.

- Yeah, I guess.

- Turn around.
Let me see.

This is kind of beat, huh?

- It's a church.

- Sneak a bottle of red

and meet me
in the confessionals.

- Thou should always
have faith in me.

- In everything I say
and do.

- Bless me, Father,
for I have blah, blah, blah.

Did you bring the wine?

I said red, not white.

- Well, couldn't exactly
be choosy.

You've never drank,
have you?

- Oh, well, yeah.

- We're in a confessional,
Scott.

You can't just blatantly lie.

You have to tell me the truth,

no matter what I ask you.

- Ask me something.

- Um, have you ever
thought of me

as more than just, like,
a brother?

- Okay, enough truth.

Let's play dare.

It'll be more fun.

- Dare isn't part
of a confession.

- Well, neither is drinking.

Fine, I'll dare you
something first.

I dare you...

I dare you to close your eyes.

Okay, open.

What do you think?

- Nice.

- I said "look," perv.

- I hate to ask, Mickey,

and you know how Charlie is
about favors,

but I just can't live
with it.

- Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

I just wish you'd said
something sooner.

I'll get a couple of guys
over here right away.

- Oh, you don't need
to do that.

I mean, well,

you could take it
out of my commissions.

- Oh, are you kidding me?
Please.

You deserve it.

Just tell Charlie
it's a bonus.

I can give you a bonus, right?

- Don't worry.

Charlie's in the city
late tonight.

- This here is wrong.

- I know.

Mickey.
Oh, Mickey.

- Mom?

Dad?

Okay, we're cool.

You have to inhale,
like, uh--

like your mom just caught you
doing something really bad.

Watch, like this.

Mommy's coming.

Mommy's coming.

- Holy shit.

- You're cute.

- I am?

I mean, I know.

- If you were, like,
three years older,

we could go out.

'cause I only go out
with older boys.

They're-- they're more mature.

Some of them
even have mustaches.

- Shit.

- Oh, you like mustaches?

- You got a long way
to go.

- Well, I mean,
my dad doesn't really have one.

He's the one I take after.

- Your dad doesn't need one
to attract the ladies.

- What do you mean?

- Let me put it this way.

I wouldn't be so hip to taking
after him so much if I were you.

That's all.

- Well, why the fuck not?

- I'm just saying, like--

okay, the last person I want
to end up like is my mother.

I mean, the both of them

Are just so-- I don't know--
phony or something.

- Phony?

Have you been reading that book
about the kid

who runs away
from private school?

- Actually, yeah.
Yeah, yeah, I have.

- Well, you know, it turns out
the only one who's phony is...

- Are you stoned?
You look stoned.

- No.

- Are you feeling it?
- You make me...

- Turns out that the only one
who's phon-- who's phony

is, you know,
fucking what's-his-name.

Uh, the-- the--

the kid who-- who--
who tells the story.

- Fucking Caulfield.

- So?

- Anyways, as I was saying,
older boys...

they can take a hint.

You know, they don't have
to do much guessing.

Like, for example, when a girl's
wearing mistletoe in her hair,

pretty much means one thing.

- Oh, wow, yeah.

That's beautiful.

- I think Mommy's
really coming.

- Hey.

What happened?

I thought you guys were going
to the church party.

- Yeah, yeah, it was--
it was beat.

- What's that smell?

Is-is that-

- Oh, yeah, I was just
showing her this trick.

- Scotty, don't do that!

You're gonna burn down
the house.

- That's your dad.

- My dad's here?

- Yeah, yeah,
he's helping, um--

he's gonna help us
with the sunroom.

- Hey.

How you guys doing?
You staying out of trouble?

- Yeah, how-- how are you,
Mr. Bartlett?

- I'm pretty good.

Nice shirt there, big guy.

- Yeah.

- We should, um,
get back.

- Uh, yeah, to the, uh--

to the-- to the site.

We got some late, uh,
customers.

So, uh, I'll see you
back at the house.

- Be good.

Bye.

- Holy shit.
Do you think he knew?

- Scott, um...

your dad's fucking my mom.

I mean, come on, fixing
the sunroom in the basement?

- He is not.

- Is too.

- Oh, man.
I feel--

I feel...

- Oh.

Holy shit.

Oh, holy fucking shit.

- Seized the American embassy
in Tehran.

They took many hostages.

- You have a rough night
last night, kiddo?

- Uh, are you sure
you want to go to school?

You feel okay?

- Uh-huh.

- Well, come here
and eat something.

- Oh, no, I'm fine.
The bus. I'm late.

- You should put something
in your stomach.

I'll take you.
Come on. Sit down.

- You know, that's okay.

I'm okay. Everything's great.

I'll see you guys later.

- Hold on.

Your brother's leaving
on Tuesday--

Tuesday now.

- Come on, guys.
Cheer up.

- Oh, don't mind us.

Go-- yeah, have a good time.
Go ahead.

- But what could be better
than hanging here

with doom and gloom?

- Look, just promise me
you won't be a hero.

No, remember, you can always
hide out somewhere safe

and just wait till it's over.

- Ma, it's not World War II.

- Yeah,
it's the Falkland Islands.

Probably won't even be
a single shot fired.

But if there is,
Jimmy's on the front line,

first to go in.

- Dick!
No, ma, that's bull--

Come on, Scotty.
That's bullshit.

- No, is--
is he really joking?

- He just told me.

He just told me about
the big scary Spanish guys.

- Fuckhead.

So full of shit.

Mom, they just activated me
because--

- They're mobilizing
the troops,

I mean, have them sitting
on aircraft carriers,

smoking cigarettes, probably.

- Yeah, probably.

- Yeah?
- Hopefully.

- Some turnout, huh?
- Yeah.

- Mr. Popular all of a sudden.
- Mm-hmm.

- Yeah, you should slow down.

- You should speed up.

You want to dance with me?

Come on.

Live a little.

- Okay.
- Come on.

- No, hey, no, shit bag.

Too young for that.
- Tastes like piss anyway.

- It is piss.

- Shut up, dick.

- Wow.

The hero, huh?

- Ah, not quite yet.

- Adrianna, will you go
get me my drink?

- Sure.

- Are you really that sick,
bringing her here?

- She's my mom, Scott.

I can't not let her do things.

A Long Island iced tea, please.

- Don't you mean an iced tea
without the Long Island part?

- It's for my mom.

- Can I dance with you guys?

- Yeah.

- Kids, uh,
I'm gonna call it quits.

- Oh.
- Okay?

- You sure?

- Yeah, I'm just having--
- You okay?

- Yeah, no, I'm--
I'm a little tired.

- Yeah?

- So I-- I'll see you later
before you go, right?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

- Okay, honey.

You gonna take Scotty home?

- Yeah, of course, of course.
- Okay.

- Bye, Mom.
- Love you guys.

- Hey, Dad.

Dad, think I can, uh,
talk to you for a second?

- What?

- Think I can talk
to you for a second?

Yeah, go ahead.

- All right, here, come here.
Come here, over here.

- Hey, we're dancing.

- I know, but just want to talk
to him for a second, okay?

- All right.
- Just for a second.

- Yeah, just a second.

- If I disappointed you
somehow, I'm sorry.

But what am I
gonna do about it?

You've got your mother's
hard-to-please gene.

- I'm just saying,
whatever it is you're doing,

just don't flaunt it around
so much.

- And what is it I'm doing,
hmm?

- You know.

- Tell me. No, no,
why don't you to tell me?

Hmm?

I'm asking you
a question, soldier.

Answer me.

Huh?

What, you can't take
a little love tap now and then?

Tell me. Come on.

You better learn
how to defend yourself.

You're going
over there to fight.

You let those fucking spics
push you around like that?

Come on.

Tough guy, come on.

Yeah.

That's what I'm talking about.

Yeah, come on, Jimbo.

You've been waiting
a long time for this.

Come on.

Come on.
Give it to me.

Come on.
Give it to me. Give it to me.

Give it to me!
Come on!

Give it to me!
Come on. Come on.

- Fuck.

Fuck!

Whatever it is you're doing,

just watch it.

Fucking Scott, Dad.

- What did I tell you
about this world, hmm?

You're either chasing something,

or you're running away
from something.

Me, I chase.

You?

But maybe I'm wrong
about you.

Maybe a little piece of me
rubbed off on you, huh?

Just a little piece.

Don't get shot to pieces
over there.

- I'm never gonna speak
to you again.

- No, you said
you were leaving tomorrow.

You told Mom
you'd see her before.

I heard you.

Do you have to leave now?

- I'm in the fucking service,
Scott.

I have to go and fight.

- When do you ship out?

Maybe-- maybe I can come
and visit.

- I don't know.

I'll probably go out first,
right away.

- That's cool.

Can you bring me back a rifle
or a grenade or something?

I don't carry a rifle.

- What do you mean?

What do you have, an Uzi?

- Oh, fuck.

I'm a communications specialist.

- Communications what?

- You know Radar in M*A*S*H?

That's me.

- No, you said--

- No, I didn't say anything.

You assumed,
which is obviously something

you shouldn't be doing
so much of.

- Are you kidding me?

You're like Radar?

- I'm not like fucking Radar,
okay?

I just do what he does
on the show.

You think I like being stuck
in a uniform

in fucking middle
of nowhere,

taking orders form a bunch
of assholes with guns?

- So quit.

- And what?
What, come home?

Everything's gonna be okay?

Dad's been doing this
as long as I can remember.

And as long as she
fucking takes this,

it's gonna go on and on.

You're gonna rot your
fucking stomach out like I did.

- I feel like
I'm in The Twilight Zone.

- Yeah, well, welcome
to our wonderful little family

and our perfect little
suburban life.

You know what?

Dad's right about one thing.

You should go to college
in another state

way across the fucking country.

- Yeah, maybe
I'll just give up

and become pussy like Radar.

- I really hope you don't.

- Who's there?

- Uh, just me.

- What's with the shifty eyes?

It makes you look like you're...

ashamed of something.

- Yeah.
Uh, no.

I was just coming to see
if she was around

so we could ride the bus.

- She got a ride.

- From who?

- Listen, at her age,

things change every day, okay,
at any age.

That's one thing
you can be sure of in life.

Things change.

Scott, listen.

Tomorrow she might be right back
on the bus with you.

Who knows?

Okay?

- Is that a tear in your eye?

- What are you talking about?

- Writing is on the wall, man.

She's totally slutting it out
with Blaze.

- So?

What's it to me?

- I thought you were, like,

totally fucking
in love with her

since you were eight.

- Well, don't you know
things change in life, idiot?

- Asshole.
- Dick.

Sorry.

I don't know, man.

Maybe when I was a kid,
but now it's just--

it was the only way
I could've, you know...

- Holy shit, you mean you--

- All right, keep it down,
dick weed.

- You can't leave me
hanging out to dry.

You've got to tell me
everything.

- Hope we have nice weather
for your confirmation.

What's wrong, Scotty?

- I'm sorry.

- Why are you sorry?

- 'Cause I thought
you were crazy.

- Here, try these.

Go ahead.

Tell me why you thought
I was crazy.

- Because, Mom,
you're never happy.

You hate Dad.

And now I do too.

- Scotty, don't tell me
how I feel.

And why are you
even worrying yourself

with, uh, my problems
with your father?

- Well, they're kind of
my problems too

when he's fucking Mrs. Bragg.

- Scott, God damn it.

How dare you speak to me
like that?

- Some friend you are, Lando.

Blaze, where'd you come up
with that?

Just watch it, man.

Fucking idiot.

- You're such a fucking liar.

You so lied your wimpy
little baby brat ass off.

Do you have nothing to say?

- What did you hear?

- I heard that you fingered me

and it was like
the inside of a jelly doughnut.

I mean, ew, Scott,
that is so disgusting.

- Shit.

- I mean, what the fuck
did I ever do to you?

- I don't know.

You treat me different.

- Maybe it's because I, like,
liked you.

Idiot.

- Look, half the guys
in my grade

lie about this sort of thing
all the time, all right?

I'll just say it was made up.

- You know how it is.

I'm already getting
weird phone calls.

- You know, that's the third--

- God, you are
such an asshole.

Do you think I'm a slut?

- No.

- Well, I'm not, okay?

I'm not like my mother.

- I know that.

- Oh, so you think
my mom's a slut?

- Okay, I didn't say that.

You said you think--

- Well, she is, okay?

She's a big, fat, slutty whore.

I can't even look at her.

- Maybe they'll, like,
die together

in a car accident
or something.

- You know
this is the third rail, right?

- Really?

Is that all
you have to say?

- You know, they say no matter
where you are on Long Island,

you can always hear the train.

Can't get far enough away.

- What are you,
Walt Whitman now?

And don't follow me.

- Your father called.

- Yeah?

- Yeah, he, uh--
he said he got tickets

to the game tonight
at the Coliseum.

He wants you to be ready
to leave by 6:00.

- I don't want to go.

- What do you mean, he doesn't
want to go to the game?

He loves the Islanders.

Where is he?
Is he in his room?

Is he sick?

- He knows.

- He knows what?

- He knows that you're
a motherfucker, literally.

- What kind of shit
is that to say?

- You do fuck mothers,
don't you?

- Man, you can take the girl
out of Queens, am I right?

- Yeah, and what are you,
King Farouk all of a sudden

now you got a few dollars
in your pocket?

I can't do this anymore, Mick.

- You can't do what?

- I don't love you anymore.

I cannot stand
the sight of your face.

I do not want to be
in the same room with you.

I find you so ugly.

And I can't even stand
the way you fucking smell,

the way you brush your teeth,

the way you eat
your fucking food.

Oh, you got the fucking
shit-eating grin on your face

all the time.

You fucking drive me
up the fucking wall.

And I can't live with myself

if I have to spend
another night in bed with you.

You make me sick to my stomach.

- Hey, fuck this garbage!

I'm gonna go get Scott,
and I'm taking him to the game.

God damn it, Mickey.

I will not be humiliated
in front of my children anymore.

- Humiliated?

What the fuck
are you talking about?

I break my ass
for this family!

- Oh, bullshit.

- And you spend more time
with your goddamn fig tree--

- My mother got me
that fig tree.

She told me not to marry Irish.

- Please.
- Jesus Christ.

And if you want to bring
Our wedding day into this,

that's an even bigger issue.

- Fuck this nonsense!

I'm gonna go get Scott.

I'm going to the game.

- Christ, look,
I made my decision.

- What, you're telling me now
that you weren't happy

on your wedding day?

- Telling me
that you felt trapped

minutes before the ceremony

didn't exactly bring
a fucking smile to my face.

- I was talking about the tux.

- So this is all just
some big misunderstanding?

- Maybe, maybe.
- Oh, okay.

You know what? Maybe?
Well, no more.

I made my decision.

I want you out
of this fucking house.

- Do you know
why I go with other women?

- Oh, Christ.

- Do you know why I go
with other women?

Because they don't tell me

that I make them sick
to their stomach!

- I don't care.
- That's why I do that.

- Shut the fuck up.
- Fuck you.

- Fuck you.

I'm tired of you rubbing my face
in this shit.

You get the fuck
out of this house.

- Oh, come on, please.

And go where?
Where do you think I'm gonna go?

I'm not gonna get--

- Get out of my house.

- What are you doing?

What are you, fucking crazy?

- This is my house.

- This is my house.
- Yeah, yeah, I'm crazy.

I am crazy.
I'm fucking insane right now.

Get out of my house.

- See the guy
at the end of the bar?

Tell him to come down here.

Mick.

How the fuck are you?

Yeah?

Yeah, Melissa told me you sold
the last of the plots.

Congratulations.

- Yeah, I couldn't have done it
without her.

- Oh, absolutely.

I tell myself that every day.

She's a real gem, a pro.

Well, sit down.

Let's catch up,
have a little drink.

Buy you a drink.

- One drink?
- Yeah.

- I got time for a quick drink.

I got a lot
of shit going on, boy.

- You sure do.

You sure do, Mick.

Let me see if I--

That's all right.
I'll remember.

Let me-- my friend, uh--
a, uh--

uh, uh, a gimlet, neat.

- You got a sharp memory.

So she tells me
that the, uh, penicillin,

is it, uh, working for you?

- Mm.

Oh, God, it-- no, it's, uh--
who the fuck knows?

I mean, one day,

the doctor tells me
it's MS, right?

And then the next day,
he tells me it's...

- What?

- Syphilis?
- Yeah.

Yes, fucking syphilis.

What amazes me, Mick,
is that this tiny little bug

no bigger than a pimple
on your ass

can change your life.

- Yeah, that's a real shame.

- Hey, Mick...

you ever think about
how it could have been you?

You were sitting right next
to me on that hunting trip.

You remember?

Yeah, you remember?

- Do you have, uh, syphilis?

Well, you know, sometimes...

I wish it was syphilis.

Come on.
- Yeah.

- Come on.
- Yeah.

Yeah.
- Come on.

Uh, thanks for the drink.
I got to go.

I'll catch you.

- Mm-hmm.

- Thanks again.

- Hey, Mick! Mick!

You want to hear this shit?

Do you want to hear it,
yes, no, maybe?

Well, I'll tell you anyway.

Come on.

Melissa.

She comes home the other day,
and she tells me,

you know, she's got
to talk to me right now,

all this serious dramatic shit.

She accuses me
of imagining all this.

What was the word she used?

Uh, "psychosomatic,"

you know, we bring things on
ourselves.

So she's a fucking philosopher
all of a sudden.

Now, I'm thinking,
where did she pick that up?

I have no idea, Charlie,
but I'm real sorry about it.

- Well, come on, now, Mick.
You see her every day.

I'm wondering if someone's been
whispering in her ear

like a little shit bird.

- Charlie, I got my own
fucking problems, okay?

- Hey, Mick.

- Fartlett.

- What the fuck
did you just say?

- What? I didn't say anything.

You are so fucking lucky
you got your brother.

- Hey, fuck you.

- You fuck-- oh, shit.

Oh, oh.

Oh.

You fuck-- oh!

Get off me!

Aaah!

Ow! Get off me!

Get off me.

Oh!

Ah!

Aaah!

- What the hell is this?

- Get out of the car
right now.

Yes, you're gonna apologize
to this boy.

- For what?

- This boy does not have
the luxuries you do.

He's less fortunate
than you are.

- Yeah, he's still
a fucking asshole.

- Scotty, God damn it.

- Ow.

When Jimmy came here,
he almost killed him.

He didn't have to apologize.

- What, Jimmy
beat this boy too?

- Yes, a long time ago.

And I heard you say "fuck"
1,000 times last night.

- Watch your mouth.
- "Fuck, fuck, motherfucker."

- Scotty, stop it.
- You know, fuck this.

Oh, yeah,
I'm sure you give a shit.

Fuck you. Fuck Dad.
You guys fucking suck, man.

- I'm glad you decided
to drop by and see the place.

- When I picked him up
from school today,

his principal informed me that
he's been suspended for a week.

- This O'Leary
gonna press charges?

- No, no, they're not, uh--

Mickey, they're not
good parents.

- Well, punish him.
You know how.

- But I didn't do anything.

- Look, we all need
to learn

how to take responsibility
for our actions.

We should at least pay
for this boy's medical expenses.

- Fine.
- He did hit me first.

- No, that was months ago.

- And he called you
a nigger-rich savage.

- Fuck him
and his medical bills.

- That was months ago.

And, what, you've been waiting

for the right time
to pounce him?

No.

Today he called me Fartlett.

- He called you what?

- Fartlett.

- Scott, Scott,
you don't think.

What did I tell you
when I built the site

about people being jealous?

Don't you remember?

- I don't have to fucking listen
to you anymore.

Fuck you.

- Mick.

- What is the fucking point?

You don't need me
to punish him.

- No, it's not about that.

- What is it about, then?

Some twisted way for you
to make me feel bad?

- No.

Look, divorced
and separated parents

let their kids
get away with murder

because they feel guilty
that they broke up the home.

But it's a trap

'cause the kids wind up
feeling resentful,

and even worse, on drugs,
God knows what else.

I mean, I'm out of the fucking
house 18 hours and 45 minutes,

and you're
Dr. Fucking Ruth now?

- She's a sex therapist, Mick.

And I saw it on Donahue.

It is true.

- He's mad because
you threw his father out.

It's normal.

- Is it normal that now he says
he hates his father?

Is that normal too?

- Then you accomplished
what you set out to do.

- And what's that?

- To pin the whole thing
on me.

- Oh.

Wow.

I came here for him,

and now you're making it
all about you.

Wow.

- She still awake?

That's good.

Throw me down one.

- One what?

- The smoke,

I could see it
from my window.

- Since when do you smoke?

- Don't be a tight-ass.
Throw me one.

This thing isn't gonna
light itself, you know.

These always remind me
of my dad...

When he was dying of cancer.

I was your age.

His dad died from it too.

He was so hell-bent
that he was gonna get it,

his nerves were shot.

The fucking doctors
actually told him to smoke.

Lying in that bed, 80 pounds,

stinking up the whole room.

Ah, what did they know
back then, right?

Hey, come on down.
We'll go to Carvel.

We'll go get a shake.

- No, I'm tired.

I have school tomorrow.

- You're suspended.

- Still, Mom will get mad
if I go this late.

It's not even 1 1:00.

Come on down.
She'll never know.

- Then I'll be a liar too.

- I never lied to her, Scott.

She just never bothered
to ask.

It isn't some state secret that
we haven't been getting along

and for a long time too.

People do stupid things
when they're trying

to get something
that doesn't fit to fit.

I don't know
what to say to you.

But I've already lost one kid

because of my problems
with your mother.

I don't want to lose the other.

- Well-- well, then why did you
have to fuck her, Dad?

- It's tough
to be a man, Scott.

You got to make money
to put food on the table.

You got to be a dad
to your kids.

You got to be a husband
to your wife.

The money part I got.

The dad part, I'm batting .500.

The husband part...

Then other people
come into the picture

at the right or the wrong time,
and things happen.

I was unhappy.

I am unhappy.

But I promise you that
everything is gonna be okay.

Now, please, come down here

before fucking Carvel closes.

- I can't.

- Here it is.

Oh.

Okay.

I hope it fits.

I mean, you're growing so fast.

Here, let's put it on.

Oh, nice.

Well, it's not exactly
a saint's name,

but it's too late
to change it now, huh?

So stand up straight.

Let me look at you.

God, you look like a priest.

- Mom.

- Okay, how about, uh,
you know...

You look like an angel.

There you go.

Hey, listen to me, Scott.

Scott.

I know you're mad,
and that's fine.

But, uh...

I have my flaws too.

Okay, baby?

Oh, Mickey, the tie.

- Come on over here
for a minute.

- I wanted to talk to you--
- Oh, sure.

- Have a seat.

I need to see this.

You know what I think
is funny?

How they say that today

is the actual day
you become a man.

I mean, how do they know that,
right?

- It's just a ceremony.

It doesn't really mean
anything literally.

- Well, don't rush it, okay?

It's not all it's
cracked up to be.

All right.

All right, we got to cut
this goddamn hair of yours,

for crying out loud.

Okay.

Let's not keep God waiting.

- It's muggy tonight, huh?

I take it you're not coming.

Always the party pooper.

It's all right.

I'll bring you home
some leftovers, huh?

Oh.

- You know, I had, uh,

Donahue on the TV set
the other day.

And they were saying how people
who get separated--

uh, and they didn't say
what number,

but a percentage of them,
a good percentage of them

end up getting back together.

- Huh.

- Could be bullshit.
I don't know.

You, um--

you want to, uh,

help me make a few of these guys
in this room jealous?

- Hi.

- Nice party.

- Yeah, you know my dad.

Everything's got to be big.

- Come talk to me.

- I got to tell you,

it's getting awfully lonely
over there.

You know, I thought
maybe tonight,

because it's a special occasion,
I could, you know--

- Mickey...

look, you'll always be
the father of my children.

And I respect that.

But if you want
to spend the night,

it's gonna be on the couch.

You got that?

- I'll take it.

- I thought you weren't
talking to me.

- I'm on the fence.

- Well, if it means anything,

technically,
I'm a man as of today, so--

- Please, a man?

I heard you're still
a bald eagle.

You know, no pubes.

- Who said that?

- Me.

I just made it up
and told anybody who'd listen.

I'm just kidding, jerk.

Silk?

- Uh, I don't know.

- It's nice.

Can I try it?

- Sure.

- Seems like forever ago
since I had mine.

So much has changed.

- It was only last year.

- It's different for girls.

A lot changes in a year.

- Well, you know,
a lot changed for me too.

- You know how I always said
I date older guys?

Well, it's not true.

I mean, it's true, but...

I never let them,
you know...

I'm still a virgin.

Well, what do you have
to say about that?

- Well, so am I.

- Duh.

Let's go inside.

Fuck.

- All right,
first things first.

You never apologized for telling
your dill weed friends

that you fingered me, you know?

- I'm sorry.

- And, um,

you're not gonna, like,
use me or whatever, right?

- No.

Are we gonna,

like, do it?

Do you really think
we should talk about it?

- Sorry.

- What's wrong?

No, that-- that was a good thing.

- Um, could--
could you help me?

- Hey, hey.

So...

how do you feel?

- I, uh...

um...

- After last night.

You can tell me.

I mean, you know,
do you feel

a little differently, uh--

'cause I know you just--
you're a different person.

Scotty.

You're officially a man
in the eyes of the Lord.

- I can't take this anymore.

This isn't a marriage.

Every day,
you looked at me in the eye,

and you told me that you
were going out to find a job.

What did you do,

play hide-and-seek
down in the basement?

It's like you're a 150-pound
baby I'm carrying on my back.

I never knew
I could hate anybody

as much as I hate you, Charlie.

Don't ignore me.

I mean, I don't mind working.

But if I wanted to be
the-- the-- the breadwinner,

the goddamn man of the house,

believe me, I wouldn't have
picked you to be married to.

Don't fucking
ignore me, Charlie!

- What?

- Nothing.