All language subtitles for snow-difficult.people.s03e08.1080p.bluray.x264_track3_[eng]

A statement and a question:

I have to pee, and how
are things with you and Todd?

I think it's good.
I started introducing him

to the Denise Richards
film canon.

Last night, we watched
Madea's Witness Protection.

Oh, I'm happy for you--
or as happy as I can be.

I've been feeling
like shit lately.

Oh! A pizza place.

They have to let me
use their bathroom.

And eat their pizza.
At different times.

Ha, look at me.
I'm the queen of England.

Hey, where's your restroom?

Sorry. Employees only.

But...I'm pregnant.

Yeah, she's pregnant.

You are?

Oh, of course you are.
Okay.

It's in the basement.
Let me help you
down the stairs.

Hey, be careful
with my wife
on those stairs.

We want to keep it this time.

Aw, sweetie.

Just, please, be careful.

Hey, let go of me!

Are you dead?

Okay, I'm gonna
take that as,

"I'm fine,
pee somewhere else,

and steal some garlic knots
on your way out."

I am way ahead of you.

Snapple Facts,
it's 3:00 in the morning.

You've been watching
Criminal Minds
for six hours?

My depression has reached
procedural marathon levels.

This one isn't so bad, though,
for a No Paget.

A No Paget?

Yeah, Paget Brewster
keeps leaving

Criminal Minds
and coming back.

I read an interview
with her.

She said she kept coming back
to Criminal Minds

because that's when she was
happiest in her life.

I just wonder
what my Criminal Minds is.

May I ask you your advice
on a work issue?

As you know,
every PBS show
ends with us

thanking Viewers Like You
for their donations.

You're assuming
I've ever made it

to the end of a PBS show,
but okay, keep going.

So I pitched to Gaby
that we should write

personalized thank-you
notes to the viewers.

She told me not to,
but they account

for 60% of
our operating costs.

So I'm facing
a moral conundrum:

should I write
the thank-you notes anyway?

That's your moral conundrum?

I once shoplifted someone's
seizure medication

because I wanted
the bottle.

Fudge it.

Gonna be a bad boy and write
those thank-you notes.

Are you a little turned on?

Yeah. Oh.

And that, my friend,
is Blue Lagoon:
The Awakening.

Denise Richards
was barely in it.

And yet somehow
it feels like

she still was in it
a bit too much.

I'll see you tomorrow?

Or you could stay the night.

A sleepover?

We've only been dating
a couple of months.

Oh, Billy.
Who hurt you?

Fine.

Let's do it.

Sleepover.

This is it

Tonight's the night

The curtain's closed

We'll be all right

Well, in the immortal words
of Anjelica Huston's

dance coach on Smash,

I'm sorry,
this is just not working.

So you didn't get
any sleep at all?

No. I felt like I was seven

and needed my mom
to come pick me up

'cause I got scared watching
Twilight Zone: The Movie.

What do you think
John Landis' worst
contribution to society is:

his alleged manslaughter
or his son, Max?

So this weekend,

we're gonna try to find
some neutral territory.

One of his clients is
this big, fancy hotel
in Times Square,

so we're gonna have us
a little staycation.

Ooh, I love everything
about that--

except Times Square
and the word "staycation."

So as long as I'm taking
this big swing at intimacy,

I figured I also might
as well Airbnb my place.

If things go wrong,
at least I can overcharge

some stupid tourists
by 400%.

Sit anywhere.
Question everything.

Specials on the board.
Julie!

I have a meeting
with my book editor,

and I need your permission
to print some photos

that you happen to be in.

Mom, this is literally
what email is for.

Okay, what about this one?

No, you can't print that!

I don't need anybody knowing
I went on a Disney cruise

with my mom when I was 22.

Oh, but my hair
looks so good in that.

I don't care.
No, you can't print it.

Okay, well,
what about this one?

It's the only one I have
of you smiling.

Oh, look at me all happy
with my improv group.

God, was I just
high all the time,

or was this
my Criminal Minds?

Presenting Nola!

Bush did 9/11.
I'm angry. Politics.

What the fuck?

Condragulations!

I'm auditioning for
RuPaul's Drag Race.

You don't do drag,
you errant lube stain.

I do now.

I realized the only thing
standing in my way of becoming

America's Next Drag Superstar
is a drag persona.

And what is a persona?

It's "person" with an A
at the end of it,
so it's a lady.

And what is drag
but making fun of ladies?

You are so fucking stupid.

Tell us
how you really feel.

You know, now that I see
my reflection
in this snake milker--

butter knife,

I guess I could trim my wig

and be my Aunt Scorpion
for Drag Race.

What do you think?
Hmm? Me?

Oh, I have no feeling
either way.

My Aunt
Scorpion didn't have
any feelings either.

I mean, she was born
without fingertips.

She raised me after
my choir teacher
Jib Jab died.

What a colorful group
of friends

you choose to
waste your time with.

Marilyn, I read your chapters
on your childhood.

You're welcome.
They're horrible.

Whole thing is boring,
self-indulgent shit.

And I had to read
Anna Kendrick's book proposal

for Scrappy Little Nobody.

So what are you saying?

Maybe we put
this book on hold.

So what are you saying?

There's nothing interesting
about your life.

So what are you say--

I'm saying that your
life story is too boring
and I won't publish it.

Well, I...

have so much more to tell.

I have stories about...
my Aunt Scorpion,

who raised me after
my choir teacher
Jib Jab died.

And none of them
had any fingertips.

What?

With a crazy backstory
like that,

why the hell are you
writing about the time

you thought you saw
Jerry Orbach at a Gristedes?

Note taken.

I am going to come back
with even more stories

about my fascinating
hillbilly childhood.

Hee-haw!
Get her done.

Welcome, Airbnb-ers.

Come on in.
Give you a little tour.

Don't fall too far behind.

Now, over here is the
formal dining area, okay?

And then over here
is the boudoir.

It's one of those apartments,
doesn't look like much
when you walk in,

but then you discover little
things, like over here...

is a bowl of change.

'Cause I went to the deli,
and I bought some milk

and just, you know,
some snacks and stuff,

and then I gave him cash,
and then he gave me
back change,

and I thought,
"I'm gonna put it in a bowl."

And, you know,
there is so much light.

In New York, it's very rare...
to have a window.

Sometimes I wake up
in the morning and...

I don't even
know where I am.

Seemed a lot bigger
in the photo.

Oh, no, for New York,
this place is huge.

Trust me.

Okay, plus, you guys
are gonna be out
doing tourist stuff.

You know, you just need
a place to sleep.

Can we have a minute
alone to talk?

Oh. Yeah, sure.
Let me give you some privacy.

If you need me, I'll be here
in the en suite.

Okay, we will try it.

Oh, that's really great news!

Hey, where are
you guys from?

Oh, you know what?
I don't care.

Boy, that accent, though,
that is not comforting.

Oh, hi. Matthew...is it?

Yes, it is.
Yes!

Now put it in lights!
Oh!

Wait, you look familiar.

Which is the word I use
for "Jewish."

Oh, you're Julie's sister!

And now we're best friends.

Yaas!
Yaas!

So what
can I do you for you, Diva?

I wanted to ask you out
to lunch tomorrow.

Oh, hon, I'm--I'm flattered,
but I take it up the ass.

I assumed. I just
have this weird feeling

that you and I
could be good friends.

Well, as Jib Jab said
right before she died...

"That ain't a bad idea!"

Ooh, tell me more
about that!

Turns out, it was a bad idea

for her to jump
into that swamp water.

I watched those gators

rip her body apart
right in front of me.

At night, I can still hear
her screams

when I close my eyes.

"Matty, help me.
They're pulling my legs off.

They're ripping
my arms off now."

Oh, that's good.

What?
That's--wow.

And what could I do, you know?

I was...nine years old,

just standing there on the--

on the--on the side
of the swamp

in a ball gown.

Probably the second-saddest
Christmas I ever had.

Wow, Julie,
this reunion is so fun!

What a great idea
to get together.

I just remember I was so happy
when we did shows.

Melissa, remember
that sketch we did--

Oh, the nacho sketch? Yes!

I don't theenk so!

I don't theenk so!

Do you guys remember my bit
about Carol Channing
at the dentist?

She was like, "Hey"--

Ray,
how old is your baby?

Uh, he's six weeks,
and we already think

he has a learning
disability, so...yeah.
Oh, wow.

Hello, molars!

Carol Channing.

Hey, remember that time
we went to Calgary

and they were like,
"No improv allowed"?

We were
pretty fucking rad.

Oh, I have to grab this.
I'm sorry.

It's like,
"Speak English."

Hey, what's up?

I'm in the hotel.

I can't sleep,
but Todd can,

which means
this is a "me" problem
and not an "us" problem.

This is Us
is a big problem.

Why don't I just meet
you in the lobby

with a sock full of Klonopin
and you can Cosby yourself?

I don't want to tear you
away from your improv reunion.

It's okay. I don't think
they're very happy to see me.

Maybe they never liked me

and we were all just so high,
I didn't notice.

P.S. Why did I stop
smoking pot?

Because you were
having panic attacks

and decided you should have
your own show on Adult Swim.

Right. You know,
maybe I was just happy

because of that
whole improv philosophy
of "yes, and."

Maybe you should try
saying "yes, and"

to whatever
they're saying now.

What's the worst
that could happen?

I don't know, I could end up

making the sequel
to Don't Think Twice?

Ooh. Maybe that's
on pay-per-view here.

If that doesn't make me
fall asleep,

then I've already died
and I'm a ghost.

Will, while we're
coming clean,

I did steal
your mullet wig.

Oh!

All right, during
the improv marathon of '02,

I initiated a scene
with a premise in mind.

Yes, and...
while we're confessing, um,

Melissa,
I fucked your boyfriend.

Jesus.
Julie, that's a big one.

Wait, which boyfriend?
Not Ryan.

Yes, and... not Ryan.

Was it Chuck?

Yes, and...

yes, it was Chuck.

I had no clue. When?

Uh...

Christmas Eve, 2000.

Uh...Chuck died that night.

You were the last person
to see him alive.

Yes, and...it has
haunted me.

So you were with Chuck

when he fell down
those stairs and died.

Oh, is this really why you
wanted us all to get together?

Yes, and...
now that we are hanging out,

I'm actually having
a good time,

so why don't you guys
come over tomorrow?

We'll watch some tapes
of our old shows,

and we can all pretend
we don't notice how
fat we've gotten.

Yeah? Yes!

All right!
That's what I like to hear.

Hello, molars!

Well, neutral
territory didn't help.

What?
You were asleep all night.

No, I felt bad
I suggested the hotel,
so I just pretended.

You stayed motionless
for seven hours?

Who are you, Denise Richards
in Starship Troopers?

Should we just cut
our losses and go home?

I can't. I Airbnb-ed my place
for the whole weekend.

I keep forgetting
how broke you are.

Oh, that's funny.
I think about it constantly.

All right, here's a pitch.

Why don't we just
wear ourselves out
till we have to sleep?

What's the most
exhausting thing
you can think of?

We can call my cousin
Jeannie and ask her

why she took a break
from social media.

Or...

there's nothing more
exhausting than
tourist bullshit, right?

Oh, my God.

We could pretend like
we're tourists for the day.

I could be someone
who owns a piece of clothing

from Old Navy...
Yes.

And you could be
a teenage girl who
can't get an abortion.

Yeah!

Hi, I'm Todd.
We're from New Mexico.

Oh, hey, Todd.
Oh!

Hello.
Hi, we've never been

to the big city,
so we're very scared.

Oh, yeah? We've been here
a whole mess of times.
Oh, wow.

We just saw the greatest show:
Gazillion Bubbles.

Though to tell you the truth,
it seemed more like
a gahundred thousand.

Oh!

Yeah, Lucy and I
seen that Othello

at The Old Vic last year,

and this show made that
look like a hunk of shit.

Oh, well!

Thank you, Ben Brantley.

Hi, Ben.

Hey, if you wanna,

y'all are welcome
to hang out with us today.

Ooh!

Like a couple
of real New Yorkers!

Well, I'm exhausted already!

And then
after the eighth time

that Aunt Scorpion
swallowed a bag of needles,

we started taking her
to the veterinarian.

I could listen
to your stories all day.

And I could tell them all day,

but unfortunately,
I have to get back
to my photo studio.

I've got to develop
some creep shots I took

of Sigourney Weaver
on The D Train.

You have a photo studio?

Yeah, it's a little
hobby I picked up

back when Jib Jab
wanted to be in Hustler.

Ah. Well, maybe you
could take some
pictures of me. I'd pay.

Oh, sure, doll.
You want the full beav?

I mean, I never pictured you
as a Hustler Honey,

but I bet I'd change my mind
once you opened your legs.

Oh, actually,
I just need an author photo.

So tits, glasses,
pencil in mouth.

That's it. That's it.
Yup, got it.

Well, I can't wait
to get some closure

on whether Jib Jab
actually made it into
Hustler. Did she?

Well, they approved her,

and then her eyes fell.

Speak up.
Her eyes fell.

Wonderful.
Right out of they sockets.

Mm!

And on behalf of PBS,

I thank you sincerely

for being one
of the Viewers Like You.

Criminal Minds,
Paget Brewster.

Game change.
I've stumbled upon a caper.

Every Viewer Like You
has the same address!

Arthur, what are you
talking about?
My improv group is here.

Noodles, intrigue is afoot.

This is the most
exciting thing that's
ever happened to m--

Yay, that's amazing.

Sorry about that.

So the food delivery guy
sold me this.

I hope it's pot.

Hey, can you maybe
not smoke that near
my special needs infant?

Oh, all right, poindexter.

Any of you other
fuddy-duddies have
requests from Yawnsville?

I love myself high!

Hey, Melissa, wanna take a hit

of To Bong Foo,
Thanks For Everything,
Julie Kessler?

No, thanks.

Um, listen, Julie,
I don't want to bring
the mood down,

but I'm in touch
with Chuck's mom,

and we still have
so many questions
about his death.

Oh, yeah, that's normal.

But, you know,
we all came here
to watch the tape, so...

Hello, molars!

Um, do you remember
Chuck's last words?

Did he mention his mom?

Yes, and...
he forgives her.

Oh, yeah!
This is definitely pot!

"Smoke me, Melissa."

What's that?
Yes!

So you said that
your aunt didn't
have any fingertips.

Is that right?
Correct.

You're cold.
You're a shivering
little baby. Brr!

Bartender. Yes.
Bartender.

And then the fronts
of your hands as well.

We thought we'd be
on that island forever...

You have lived
a fascinating life.

And then you notice,
"Oh, my God, what time is it?"

And you spill the cocktail.

Do you come from a line
of alcoholics?

Ah, fabulous, fabulous.
More. More, more,
more, more.

All right, I think we--
we're good, then.

Do you think
we have enough?
I don't.

That did the trick.
I'm exhausted.

In fact,
I think I could take a nap.

Yes! A nap!
The snack of sleep!

We can't afford a full meal,
so we'll just graze.

Aw, Ed.

The fruitcakes are sleepy.
Oh!

My favorite thing
about a nap

is dreaming about sleeping
next to this big guy.

I love sleeping next to Lucy.

I'm sorry,
I have to ask.

Did you two ever
have a problem
falling asleep together?

Absolutely not.

So how long have you
been married?

We're not married.
I'm paying her.

I am Lucy,
the vacation prostitute.

Yes, you are.
Whoo!

My wife, on the other hand,
is a fucking nightmare.

I can't sleep in the same room
with that woman.

Why did I marry someone
that I can't sleep next to?

Yes, we get it.
Thank you for illustrating
our fears with examples.

So which room
we gonna go back to,

yours or ourn?

What?
Huh?

Well, why the hell
would you spend
the day with us

if you didn't wanna swing?

Please tell me you're
referring to dancing along

to the Cherry
Poppin' Daddies.

No, group sex.
Partner swapping.

Course, it'd be you two
double-teaming her.

I'd watch and do
my business in a sock.

I'm cornfused.
Why are we in a hospital?

And why don't I have a show
on Adult Swim?

And why are we
in a hospital?

Chuck didn't get along
with his mom,

and you have
new information.

So we're here
to give her closure.

Meet Chuck's mom.

Oh, no.

Oh, she's really sick.

Hi, Mrs. Chuck.

You're gonna be
the second member of
your family I watch die.

Julie, please.

You were with my Chuck?

What were his last words?

They were,
"Tell my mother
I forgive her."

The last words
he said to me were,

"I'll never forgive you."

Yeah, well, I don't know
what to tell you, lady.
That's what he said.

If Chuckles had
to die falling down
a flight of stairs,

at least he was in
the company of his lover

and, yes, on a night
his beloved Yankees won.

I remember.

He was so happy
about those Yankees

winning the ball game.

Anyway, closure, closure.
What a wonderful thing.

Okay, bye!
Hold on!

Chuck hated the Yankees
almost as much as
he hated redheads!

Plus, it was Christmas Eve.

There are no baseball games
on Christmas Eve.

Julie, what's going on?

I'll tell you what's going on!

This cunt murdered my son!

Gaby, I'm sorry
to drag you here
in the middle of the night,

but I found out something
very disturbing.

Every Viewer Like You

lives at the same address.

So I went there
in the dead of night,

and you'll never believe
who lives there.

Larry the Cable Guy.
Larry the Cable...Guy.

You knew?
Everyone knows
Viewers Like You

is a pseudonym
for Larry the Cable Guy.

We just don't talk about it.
Why the secret?

I think people should know
what a hero he is.

Wrong!

Our fans don't
want to know

Larry the Cable Guy
is behind PBS

any more than
his fans want to know
how passionate he is

about importing
British television shows.

Now, are you gonna forget
all about this?

Yes! Yes.
I mean, forget what?

That's right, kitty cat.
You play dumb.

One more.

Now get the fuck out!

Okay.

Matthew?

I got home, and I realized
I left some shoes--

Oh!
You!

Enough!
Oh, my God!

My mirror's talking to me!

I am not a mirror.
I am Marilyn!

I am not a mirror.
I am Marilyn!

Stop. Enough.

Are you really so stupid,

you don't realize
this isn't a mirror?

This is so silly!

Matthew,
you explain this to me.

You see, after Lola
yelled at me,

I needed a new
drag persona.

And I couldn't just
make one up.

I was born
without an imagination.

So, Marilyn, meet...

Dr. Marilicious.

So you've just been pretending
to be interested in me

so you could steal my identity

for your selfish
little purposes.

Shame on you!

How can I
make it up to you?

Trust has to
be earned, dear.

But you could start by
telling me how
cousin Ponytail

preserved Jib Jab's eyeballs
in her famous homemade
formaldehyde stew.

I'm no closer
to falling asleep.

I memorized the whole
McDonaldland characters
Wikipedia.

Do you know, in 1974,
they cut off two
of Grimace's arms.

Oh, yeah, I knew that.
Oh.

And I've now been
on Instagram so long,

I just found
my Airbnb-ers.

Oh, my God.

They're nudists!
What?

Oh, my God, they're nudists!
They're nudists!

Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no!

He's using my remote
to cover his dick!

Oh, nudists are worse
than swingers

because their lifestyle
isn't sexual!

And now they're
rubbing their balls
and their labia flaps

all over every conceivable
surface of my apartment.

Listen, we can't
sleep anyway.

Let's get those fuckers
out of your apartment.

God, German nudists!
Ugh!

Let me screen grab
his dick, though.

I'm telling you guys,
for the last time,

I did not kill Chuck!

Your facts kept changing.
Your timeline is off.

I'm gonna call the police.

No, don't!
Listen, okay, I...

I just wanted to be happy
with you guys again, okay?

I...I never even met Chuck.

I just said that I fucked him
because I was "yes, and"-ing.

How dare you use
improv terminology
to cover up a homicide?

You're a murderer!

No one would be so awful

as to lie to a dead man's
dying mother

just to get attention
from an old improv group!

Hey! Shut up!

Yo!

You're that pregnant bitch

that threw me down
a flight of stairs.

I'll explain that one
in a minute.

Wait a second.
You're pregnant
and you're smoking pot?

No, I-- No, wait.

Look. See?

I couldn't have been
with Chuck on
Christmas Eve of 2000.

I was on a Disney cruise
with my mother!

No one in their 20s
goes on a Disney cruise
with their mother.

Check the time stamp.

Shit. She's not lying.

So Chuck didn't forgive me?

This was all a lie?

You are a monster!

Oh, my God!

No, don't touch!
No, no, don't!

Oh, my goodness!
No, no, don't do that.

Don't do that. It's okay.
No, no, no, no.

I hope you roast in hell,
you fucking loser!

Billy, I've made a decision.

I am done with "yes, and"-ing.

I'm more of a "no, but" girl.

Well, not a no-butt girl.

More like a flat-butt girl.
Flat and wide.

You know those potato rolls
that come all stuck together?

Yeah, I've got, like,
four of those behind me,
sometimes six.

Billy, found another pube
in the breakfast nook.

Julie, I got pubes
in the nook,

and the Swiffer ain't
doin' it. I gotta go.

No, no, no, wait.
Let me describe my ass more.

Ah!

Hear the sun
crashing down from the sky

Darkness crawls,
coming in from all sides

That's it, I quit

And all the targets
have been hit

Our home, our vine

We'll all have
vengeance time

Bombs away

Bombs away

One, two, three, four!

La, la, la.

Oh, my God.