All language subtitles for Im.Dying.Up.Here.S02E07.Call.Me.a.Ham.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.H.264-NTb

Previously on I'm Dying Up Here...

I'm sorry, what's your
fucking name again?

- Trudy.
- Lorne Michaels.

They're shooting his
sketch show for NBC.

They want to do it live
out of New York City.

Wendy's coming Thursday
night to catch your act.

Look, I know that I fucked up bad,

and I am so sorry for the
shit I said on Carson.

Mort's booking.

Hey, uh, Mort, it's, uh, Bill Hobbs.

- Whoa, please!
- You think love conquers all?

The people you love will
fucking forgive you,

but they will do it in a way

where you can't forgive yourself!

- Synced & corrected by MementMori & chamallow -
-- www.addic7ed.com --

Fuck.

So why now? Why Santa Monica?

Demand. These are troubled times.

People want to laugh, you know?

And Goldie's has set the standard

- for live comedy in LA...
- Yes.

... and you get Roy Martin,

the best of the best, headlining,

you can't get better bang
for your buck than that.

Well, as for Santa Monica,

it's really more for
the comics, you see.

That way, when they bomb,
they only have to go west

a couple blocks and they
can go right in the ocean.

Hey, um, let's get a
couple of shots here

of the Queen of Comedy
and her Clown Prince.

Aw, that's nice.

There you go, happy.

One more.

That's great. That's great.

- All righty, is that good?
- Yeah, that's great.

- Okay, all righty.
- Fantastic.

- So how have you been, anyway?
- I've been okay.

I've been okay. Look at my new ring.

- Oh, my God.
- Isn't it gorgeous?

Oh, my God. It's so beautiful.

You're bad luck, Benny.

Last time you were here,
you gave me an envelope

with a big red "audit"
printed on the front.

Don't shoot the mail messenger.

And that is not the line.

Eh, that ain't the line you wrote.

Read the words, Ron.

It's not my fault you tried to write off

your model airplane collection.

You're right, Ern. God forbid America

should miss out on these words.

All right, so, what, are we the only
ones taking this shit seriously?

Hey, Rene, I am offended, okay?

Because I take these white depictions

of black stereotypes very seriously.

You... you think this shit is
fu... you think this is funny?

- Huh, you think this is funny?
- Stop. Stop it, all right?

You know what? Everyone take ten.

Ten, that's ten, everyone, please.

You, you stay.

Yeah, all right, I agree.

We got to have a meeting about this guy.

He's got some shit to work out. I mean,

you can't go through life like that.

May I speak plainly, Ronnie?

- Can I stop you?
- You're Benny the Mailman.

You're not Marlon Brando.
You're not Jack Lemmon.

You're Benny the Mailman.

Okay, you're not gonna segue
this into a movie career

or stage or anything else.

At best, you'll be the
voice of an animated dog

or the bottom left-hand
corner on Hollywood Squares.

But you see, you're Benny the Mailman.

That's who you are.

And you are not the guy

who's gonna run roughshod over my show.

No, you're gonna come in here,

you're gonna hit your
mark, say your lines.

Then you're gonna go out,
and you're gonna fuck

the remaining self-esteem
out of whatever

extra is dumb enough to think that
you're her ladder to success.

Am I clear?

A lot to unpack there.

May I speak plainly, Ernie?

Well, that seems only fair, Ronnie.

Here's who I am, okay?

I'm the guy that took your show

from the lower 40s

all the way up to number
seven in the ratings.

That's who I am.

I got to give it to you, Ronnie.

It usually takes years to develop

- this kind of misplaced hubris.
- I'm a prodigy.

You're letting everyone down, Ron.

- Okay, the crew, the cast, everyone.
- Fuck the cast.

I apologized to them. They
told me to shove it up my ass.

Am I clear?

All right, if anybody needs me,

I'll be taking a nap in my double-wide.

- You don't have a double-wide.
- Holy shit, he's right.

Can you take care of that for me, Ernie?

How the fuck did you
not see that coming?

James...

I have a little...

whitefish salad

and some warm champagne.

I thought we could have a little nosh

before we pick up my mother.

Or you can nosh on me.

Marty Simkovitz said I taste like kugel.

Oh, also, James, I hope you don't mind,

but I invited Dr. No
for my sister Sadie.

She is partial to lawyers,
but I thought it'd be nice

to have a doctor in the family...

James, where are you going?

Where you going? Come back here.

Let me look at you, little pudding.
Where you going?

Moscow? Ugh, this time of year?

No, no, no, no, no, no, no.

I will transfer our tickets
to Puerto Vallarta.

It's so beautiful, you'll plotz!

You gonna clean this up?

Then what are the ants gonna do?

You're a slob, you know that?

Yes, Mother Hobbs.

Look, I know you're going through a lot,

but can you just remember that
two people are living here?

What "lot" are you referring to?

Fuck it. Just clean up your shit.

You know what?

- Got a better idea.
- Yeah?

How about this?

How's this, huh?

How's this for cleaning up, Bill?

Seriously?

- Yeah.
- You're gonna leave

because I gave you shit
about cleaning up?

Yeah, that's right.

For the maid.

I can't believe your bedroom

looks into your swimming pool.

Mine looks down onto the parking
lot of a Pioneer Chicken.

Well, at my last place,
my view was a mole

on the back of my roommate's
neck, so this is a big step up.

Oh, it must be nice, though.

Being a star.

Coming home to all this.

It's all right.

What, you don't like it?

No...

I li...

Okay, I remember when the
Bruins won the Stanley Cup

back in '70, my father
worked for Kevin White,

the mayor of Boston, and
he got us into this

private party for the Bruins.

And there was fucking Orr,
and there's Esposito,

and there's Cheevers,
and then right there

in the middle of the room
was the Stanley Cup,

the holy grail of hockey.

Okay, and I... I'm walking over there

'cause I just want to touch it.

I just want to... I just want
to... I just want to touch it.

And my father says, "No, Ron!

You can't touch it

'cause you didn't earn it."

And I thought he was an idiot, you know?

'Cause it's... I can
touch it. It's right here.

It's right in front of me.

But now I know that he was right,

because...

all this shit that I can touch,

it doesn't fucking feel like anything,

you know? 'Cause I... 'cause
I think I skipped over

the "earning it" part,
and I think I needed it.

Like, I think I j...
I think I need more.

You're unfulfilled.

I am unfulfilled.

- Oh, my God!
- What?

- You know who you are?
- Who?

You're Jonathan Livingston Seagull!

- Who?
- He was this seagull

who wanted more too,

so he set out to be extraordinary.

The other birds were assholes

and said that he was full
of himself just because

- he wanted to soar.
- See, that's just like me.

All the birds at work think I'm a dick

'cause I'm always trying to soar.

But you know what?

Jonathan Livingston Seagull showed them.

He went, and he learned how to fly.

Like, really fly.

And that is when they all
saw what he was made of.

It's basically the Ron Shack story,

told through a bird that'll eat garbage.

I guess we're all just
suffering for our art.

Just 'cause we want to soar.

It's just 'cause I want to soar.

I just want to fucking soar.

- You wanted to see me?
- You forget something?

Happy birthday!

It's the fucking liquor order... again.

Oh, God, I'm so sorry.

Donnie from the kitchen dropped
a block of frozen drumsticks

on his foot, so I've been handling that.

What the fuck is going
on with you lately?

And where the hell have you been?

Or are you gonna give
me a song and dance

for that one too?

It's personal.

Personal? Hmm.

I got... VD.

It's not pretty.

The doctor said it's, uh, the worst case

he's ever seen in his entire life.

The girl was from Germany, so it's...

Who am I, the Guinness
Book of World Records?

Get some moldy crackers
and do your fucking job.

Otherwise, I will give
it to someone else.

- Are we clear?
- Clear.

As I sometime in the near future

hope to be myself.

Shut the fucking door.

All right, all right, okay.

She's onto us, man. She's onto Mort.

- Goldie?
- Yeah.

- How?
- She noticed I haven't been here lately.

Told you I was fucking vital.

What'd you say?

Don't worry. I took care of it.
I told her I had the clap.

I'm trying to be quick on my feet here.

That's not even quick on
your knees, all right?

Isn't there a process
that words go through

before they come out of
your stupid fucking mouth?

Oh, yeah, do you ever think
she might be suspicious

'cause of you, Mr. Highfalutin?

What, am I mopping ostentatiously?

No, I'm talking about your
fly-ass pimp suit, Dolemite.

For months, you've been eating like

you're a cast member in Oliver.

All of a sudden, her janitor's
got a nice new suit?

Goldie picks up on shit, man.

So Goldie figured out Mort
because of your syphilis

and because of my new suit?

Ron, Columbo couldn't put that together.

Shh, just be smart about it.

Lay low, ese.

What the fuck?

My own parking spot in the front?

Just the perks of being
a big-time TV writer.

Shit, that's like having
my own handicapped space

without the fake limp.

So you on board?

- Sign me the fuck up.
- Yeah!

Hey, couldn't help but overhearing.

Congratulations.

Probably 'cause you were
fucking listening in.

Maybe, maybe.

Just gonna float this out there.

If you guys are looking
for writers for the show,

you know, I want to throw
my hat in the ring.

Got pretty extensive
knowledge of black culture.

Oh, saw Guess Who's Coming
to Dinner a few times?

Yeah, you know, uh, growing
up in Cold Lake, Alberta,

there was a black family.

They happened to be my
next-door neighbor, and, uh,

I actually, uh, got to know
their culture pretty well.

- Mm-hmm.
- Got to see the differences

and the similarities.

Wow, one black Canadian family.

That's like going to
see Siegfried and Roy

and saying now you an expert on tigers.

Why are you even looking for
another job, anyways, man?

You practically run this place.

What, a guy's not allowed
to expand his options?

- Look for the next thing?
- Uh, look, Arnie.

Um...

it's not up to us, you know?

We got to get network approval,

and then you'd have to submit

a packet of writing samples and...

Definitely.

Despite your extensive,

you know, exposure to black culture...

- Your plethora of knowledge.
- Whoa. Okay, um...

I don't think you're the voice
that we-we looking for...

o-or need...

or want.

Right.

Well, hey, you know, whatever, you know.

Not for nothing, let me
know if that changes.

And, uh, you know...

a white mind is a terrible
thing to waste too.

Oh, okay, that's it for me.

Noted.

Thank you.

Thank you very much. I, uh...

I apologize if I, uh, appear
to be a little nervous.

It's because I've been
performing in the Cellar,

so, uh, crowds frighten me.

Holy shit, well.

I've never seen such a
good-looking couple.

Two fucking runway models
right here, Jesus Christ.

It's like what Hitler was going for.

What are you guys doing after the show,

modeling for a fucking art class?

You know, I have not one
artistic bone in my body,

but I would like to sketch the
two of you using charcoal.

Oh, hello, new waitress.

Can I come home with the two of you?

I swear, I'll just sit in the
corner and watch silently.

I'm very good at it. I'm very good.

Seriously, would you two
like to just come onstage

for the rest of my set and walk around?

Hey.

Good idea.

No one'll know we slept

together with that
empty seat between us.

I just assume people don't
want to talk to me.

Saves time.

So how's shit at Bill's?

Yeah, it is exactly that: shit.

- Oh.
- Bill and I broke up.

- Aw.
- Decided I wanted to...

see other mothers.

- You moved out?
- Yeah, something like that.

Eh, it's all good.

Perfectly coincides with my
car getting out of the shop,

so I'm living in my back seat.

Really just swapping out ass smells.

Well, I'd say crash at my place,

but seeing where that
got us last time...

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, I guess.

You know what? Fuck it.

You need a place to stay.
I got plenty of room.

And by that, I mean I have a sofa.

We're both adults.

I can control myself if you can.

Who, me? Oh, I am nothing

if not a model of self-control.

Oh, great. Well, mi sofá es su sofá.

Gracias.

All right, thank you very much.

That's my time.

At the very least, you have all been

an extremely attractive audience.

Thank you.

Eddie Zeidel, ladies and gentlemen.

Keep it going for Mr. Eddie Zeidel.

You guys are a fantastic crowd...

Thank you, new waitress.

You're welcome, main stage comic.

You know, you're spoiling
me, because in the Cellar,

the waitresses just pool all
of the unfinished drinks

into a bucket and throw
in a couple of cherries.

Well, I can do better than that.

Whoo!

Let me ask you a question.

What is the record time
from walking off stage

to blow job in a supply closet?

'Cause I, uh, think I just set it.

- Congrats. Who'd you blow?
- Yeah.

- Mm.
- You use a stopwatch,

or did you "one, Mississippi,
two, Mississippi,"

bobbing your head up and down?

Hmm, that's funny.

Well, why don't you
ask the new waitress?

She's a little cutie, isn't she?

Oh!

- Damn!
- What is the record from

blow job to getting
shitcanned by Goldie?

What are you talking about?

That's Goldie's daughter, dickhead.

No, it's not. Shut up.

- Yes, it is.
- No, it's not.

Shut the fuck up. No,
it's... no, it's not.

Shut the fuck up. Why didn't
somebody fucking tell me?

- Are you kidding me?
- If you're not out writing

with Roy, you're avoiding hanging around

so you don't bump into Cassie.

Not our fault you're behind the times.

What, do you not ask girls' names

before you take them to supply closets?

Damn.

Chivalry really is dead.

I'm gonna throw up.

I love this so much.

You ever been to Venice?

Once.

When I was six.

It's been my dream to
live there ever since.

Yeah, it'd be pretty
cool to live in Italy.

Not Italy. Venice, Florida.

That's your dream?

To move to Florida?

They have sand dollars.

And you can walk out into

the shallow water for miles.

And it always looks like
the sun is setting.

My dad took me there before he died.

I think it'd be a really
nice place to live.

Raise a family.

I think Venice, Florida,
sounds pretty fucking awesome.

Now you're just making fun of me.

No, I'm not. No, I'm not. I mean it.

I mean it.

Hey, what are you doing this weekend?

Working.

Gas company's on my ass, and
I need a new blow-dryer.

Those don't come cheap.

How'd you like to hang up your G-string?

Oh, hey, Amanda. Um, hey. Sorry, um, hi.

Can I steal you for just a-a moment?

Yeah.

- Hi. How are you?
- Hey.

Good.

So I, uh... you know,

I-I-I didn't know that you
were, uh, Goldie's daughter,

and not that I didn't have
a great time with you.

- Mm-hmm. It was a good time.
- But I probably

wouldn't have... you know.

Not that it wasn't great,

but I just didn't know, and I...

Uh-huh.

... am now feeling like I
should try and tell you

that I... we probably shouldn't...

- you know.
- Eddie, it's okay.

I already told Mom.

I'm sorry, you...

Yeah, she's totally cool with it.

She likes you.

Said you were a decent guy,

which was a big relief to me.

I mean, who wants to date a guy
their mother hates, right?

Was that a... was that a date?

Well, yeah. What'd you think?

You think I'd just randomly do that?

I... Uh, no, I do not think that.

But, you know, typically, on a date,

you go to a lovely restaurant,
and you order a bottle of wine

or something, you know?

You don't go somewhere so flammable.

Yeah, well, my mom is so happy

that I've finally met a nice guy

that she wants you to come
for breakfast tomorrow.

Okay, are-are you fucking
with me right now?

Well, if you don't want
to come, just say so.

Excuse me, no, no, no, no.
I-I would love to come.

I-I would love to come. No, I'll-I'll...

I'll be there.

Should I, uh... should I...
should I bring anything?

Ham.

Ham?

She loves ham.

- Okay.
- Nine a.m. sharp.

Yup.

Oh, okay.

You know what I was thinking
might be good for our club?

You do know we have to build it

before we can burn it down
for the insurance money?

Oh!

No, I was thinking...

how about you on the talk show circuit?

Hmm?

Hmm?

Merv, Mike Douglas,

Dinah Shore, they all love you.

People already know who I am, all right?

Oh, I know.

It's just, you've been tucked
away in Vegas for so long,

I thought maybe a little reintroduction

to the TV dinner crowd, it
might not be a bad idea.

If I buy a dryer at Sears,
I draw a bigger crowd

than those fucking comics
you got headlining.

- Okay?
- What's the problem?

No, it-it's my club too, Goldie.

I'm saying it isn't?

Okay, so just quit barking
orders, all right?

I didn't sign up to be the, uh,

second banana to the
Queen of Comedy here.

Oh.

Look, Tish was just
tossing that out there.

I'll call her, tell her not to...

Forget it!

The time to tell her
was when she said it.

Neptune's Delight, my cock.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, here I come.

Coming. Here I come.

What are you doing here?

I'm, uh, here for breakfast.

I brought the ham.

Ham?

Fuck.

Just so I know who to blame...

which one of us couldn't
control ourselves last night?

Well, last I remember, we were watching

a nature documentary on TV.

Oh.

And, uh, a couple zebras
got a little horny.

Oh.

And...

here we are.

- Fucking zebras.
- Pound town.

Aw, shit.

I got to drop off rent by 11.

Um, the, uh...

hot water in the shower

runs out after ten minutes.

And, um, there are
pliers on top of the TV

that change the station.

And I think that's all
the important news.

I hope you enjoy the amenities.

Yeah, thank you. Fantastic.

All right.

- Bye.
- Oh, the old shake, all right.

Have a good day.

Uh, try not to light anything on fire.

No.

- You're what?
- I'm getting married.

You gonna be my best man or what?

Okay.

I pride myself on having talked you out

of some pretty stupid shit
over the past couple years,

but this feels like something you
shouldn't need my help with.

What's wrong with me getting married?

Is it 'cause she's a stripper?

'Cause she's a lot more than that.

She loves cats, and she's planning on

doing something with that.

Ron, this is you going off again, okay?

No, it's not. No, it's not, Eddie.

I fucking thought about it,
man, and I love her, okay?

It's time. I hate when
you act like I haven't

- thought stuff through.
- Oh, like a couple weeks ago

when you came within minutes
of buying a bear cub?

I wish he was here right now.

I wish the bear was here right now,

'cause he's a lot more
supportive than you are.

He was trained, Eddie.

Every time you said something stupid,

he could let out a little roar.

All right, all right, all right.

Let me ask you a question.

Do you think this decision has
anything to do with the fact

that you've been jacked up on
cocaine for the past month?

No, not at all.

I can't explain it to
you, but it just...

it just feels right, you know,

and-and very little in my life

does feel right right now.

It's-it's like she's my
anti-echo chamber, you know?

- Your what?
- You know, like when your

fucking head starts saying
all this really, really

negative shit about yourself,
like, and you're like,

"Yeah, head, you're probably right.

I probably am a fucking talentless,

unfunny, worthless piece of shit."

Trudy's the one that's there going,

"Uh-uh, Ron's head. Ron's great."

Does your head really
talk to you like that?

Yeah, he's not on my side.

Let's-let's just say that.

All right.

Yeah, I'll be your best man.

- Yeah? Okay.
- Okay, all right. Take it easy.

Now I just need you to
convince Goldie to let me

have the wedding on the main stage.

- Are you serious?
- Yep.

Are you just trying to up the ante

on the fucked-up-ed-ness?

No, man, Goldie's is where
it all started for me.

You know, it's the place
of both my humble origins

and my greatest success. Plus,
Trudy-Trudy likes that shit.

She'll get a kick out of it.

Isn't she tired of stages by now?

Trust me, I get the appeal,
but you get one more week

of stripper jokes.

As much as I'd love
to help, it's just a...

a little complicated
with Goldie right now.

What happened?

Well, her daughter blew me in
the supply closet last night and

had me come over Goldie's
this morning with a ham.

That may feel like a
complete story to you,

but there's still some
dots that need connecting.

Well, I didn't know she
was Goldie's daughter,

and she's a waitress in the
club, and she's very pretty,

and she's funny.

But I actually think
she's a little crazy.

I got to tell you, Eddie,
it's stories like this

that make me glad I'm settling down.

Whoo!

I'm getting married.

I'm actually, uh... I'm
actually getting married.

Yeah, no, just...

I came to tell you I'm getting married.

Oh, fuck.

Fuck yes.

- When?
- Saturday night.

This Saturday?

Money's no object.

Oh, please don't say shit like that.

I like just assuming
you're an idiot, huh?

I would like to help you out, Ron,

but there's no way I'm closing the

club on a Saturday night.

Then keep it open. Keep it open.

I'd mainly just invite
the comics, anyway,

and Trudy doesn't
really have any family.

All right.

- You mean it?
- Sure.

I'll have Roy emcee, huh?

Ah...

the thing about Roy
emceeing the wedding...

I know... you know, I know
that people think he's great,

and I know that you-you
guys are very close.

But I hate Roy.

Um...

also, do weddings really
even have emcees?

Ron, as invested in
your love life as I am,

and clearly you too,

this is a business deal, hmm?

You'll get the press in
here, throw a little light

on Santa Monica while

Mr. and Mrs. Stepped in Shit

grace the cover of the LA Times.

That's my offer. You
take it or leave it.

Great.

Now, scat.

You just dumped a shitload
of work on my desk.

Here he is.

Oh, Eddie, what's the
matter? You look down.

You lose your ham?

Um, about that,

I just... I-I just
wanted to, um, apologize

and explain why I showed up
at your house this morning

with that ham.

Amanda.

Oh, she-she told you.

I know my daughter.

Uh, Goldie, uh, I, uh...

I would just like to come out and say it

so you hear it from me
and not anywhere else,

but I-I had...

I-I had carnal relations with Amanda.

She's 18.

I'm not in charge of shutting
that barn door anymore, eh?

Nor-nor-nor-nor should you
be, but, um, I-I-I-I...

I didn't know that she
was your daughter,

and if I had known,

I-I would never in a million
years have gone near her...

- Relax, Zeidel.
- I'm sorry.

Trust me, it wasn't you
she was screwing, huh?

Okay.

Nick.

You want toaster waffles?

Nick.

I got blueberry.

Nick.

Nick!

Fuck! Okay.

- What's this?
- It's USC,

Beth's tuition.

UCLA's not good enough? It's free.

Check bounced. It was a
couple measly thousand.

Roy, the word "measly"

does not come before thousand anymore.

You are drowning in tax debt.

You got three alimonies,

and you went and told Vegas to fuck...

You're a broken fucking record!

Do you understand you're telling me

that I can't dig up money for

my daughter's fucking tuition?

- Is that what you're saying?
- Hey, messenger here.

Okay.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

What's my out?

I thought you hated broken records.

I got your three properties up for sale,

but they're mortgaged to the hilt.

You'll see a little something.

- Okay, good.
- But, uh...

with no Vegas, it's blood
from a turnip, man.

The name Roy Martin
still means something.

- You remember that.
- Yeah.

Especially to your ex-wives and the IRS.

I'll just get my ass
back out on the road.

Well, I hate to say it, buddy, but

I'm not sure that's even gonna cut it.

Hello?

Who is this?

You called me.

I'm a friend of Nick's.
He's kind of in bad shape.

What kind of bad shape?
I have an audition.

He's fucked up, okay?

This can't happen in my apartment.

Should I take him to the hospital?

No, I told him he had to ease back in.

He sucks at listening.

All right. Wait, wait.

Here, grab his fucking arm, please.

I got...

No, you don't.

Mm, mm, mm.

Oh, shit!

Oh, fuck.

It's good he gets it out.

Walk. Walk.

So...

you want to tell me what this
hair up your ass is about?

No, it's an old tune.

- Money?
- Mm.

Beth's tuition.

How much?

It's covered.

Are you open to a proposal?

Ron Shack.

- The fucking mailman hack?
- Mm-hmm,

who's on a ratings winner.

- Oh, right.
- Yeah.

And he wants to get
married here at the club

tomorrow night.

So you're a VFW now?

No, it's gonna be a big deal.

There's gonna be a bunch of press...

A-and you're telling me this why?

Well, I was thinking,

you emcee this train wreck for me,

you can keep the whole thing.

Door, drinks, the whole shebang.

What is this, some kind of pity fuck?

No, no, you'll get some quick cash.

We get publicity for our new club.

And this thing is gonna be splashed

over every entertainment
section in the country.

Yeah, you know, I'm not exactly big

on playing second fiddle
to a fucking catchphrase.

Fuck him.

Let Nero fiddle.

This is about our long game, sweetheart.

You're next, Cassie.

- I'm sorry.
- Yeah, I hate to rush you,

but you're the last one,
you're half an hour late,

and Lorne has to fly back to New York.

I'm ready.

Okay, ladies, this is not
regular Goldie's tonight.

There's gonna be more press
here tonight than ever before.

I had 300 of these made up.

Everyone leaving tonight,

I want one in their hands
or on their back, all right?

I want you to push everything.
The food, the drinks...

Food? What about when the
comics are performing?

This ain't regular Goldie's.
This here's a freak show

with a two-drink minimum, okay?

Now go about your business.
Have a great night, ladies.

And you, come here. You're 18.

So what you do as an
adult is your business.

What are you talking about?

Who you sleep with is your business,

unless it's in my club with my comics.

Then you keep your dick
in your skirt, huh?

Thanks.

Feeling better?

Yeah, yeah, feeling good.

Yeah, what are you doing, Nick?

Do I look like a man with answers?

How long?

Mm...

it was the first time...

in about a-a year, yeah.

Swear to God.

- How long till you hear back?
- You could have died.

That's not what you need right before

- an audition, right?
- The audition is fine.

But fuck you, Nick, if
you're lying to me.

Cassie...

Are you sure it's a good idea
to be having the bachelor party

two hours before the wedding?

And also, do you think any
of this is a good idea?

I just can't believe
we're having a bachelor

party with no strippers.

Yeah, well, I tried to get
Trudy, but she had a wedding.

Hey, hey, Trudy is a retired stripper.

Hey, Ron, what's the pension
plan like for strippers?

You're looking at it.

Okay, stop being mean.

To Ron and his new beautiful bride.

May she always stay unemployed.

- Hear, hear.
- All right.

- Come on.
- Hey.

- Unemployed stripper.
- Mm.

- Whoo!
- Ahoy-a!

Oh, thank you.

Thank you. I appreciate that.

It's better just to know up front.

Yeah, no, well, I-I really
appreciate the opportunity,

and, um, please tell Lorne
that I said thank you.

Okay, I will. Bye.

I was a dancer in Vegas
when you were there.

No shit.

I used to sneak in and
watch you perform.

You were opening for
Paul Anka at the time.

Oh, what a prick.

That was a long time ago and far away.

Eh, not so long.

I always had a soft spot for men

who could make people laugh.

How soft?

My best friend growing up, Tina,

her dad was so funny.

And you could count on one
hand the number of times

someone laughed at my house.

I'm sorry to hear that.

It's a real gift.

You have that gift.

Where can I return it?

I'm serious, though.

Anything that keeps shit
at bay is a gift, right?

Amen to that.

Laughing, it's... it's like amnesia.

In a good way.

That makes a lot of sense.

- I like that, amnesia.
- Mm.

Want to go do some blow
before the wedding?

Now, that is a gift.

Is everybody excited for
the wedding tonight, huh?

Wow.

Benny the Mailman is getting married.

Benny!

To a stripper, a stripper in Hollywood.

Are you sure about this, pal?

Pretty sure.

I mean... pretty sure...

You are getting married.
Kind of want to be...

sure, sure.

No offense, pal, but you
were sure about Cassie.

I'm sorry, that was a fucking

- douche thing to say.
- Don't worry about it.

Even douche things have
some truth to them.

You know what? Let's just fucking admit

that we're all looking for
a soft place to land, huh?

Just somebody to break our fall.

Yeah, but I mean...

Ron, listen to me.

You've only known this
girl for, what, two weeks?

It's just...

it's a big risk, you know?

Here's what I know, Eddie.

If not for big risks,

we would most likely be

back at the Combat Zone right now

having this exact same conversation

about me marrying some other stripper,

except she'd have a South Boston accent.

Big risks are what brought us this far.

I got to tell you, in the eyes
of the Lord, this thing...

He's asleep. He's not
watching any of this.

Very disappointed, very disappointed.

You said it yourself.
Don't fuck the comics.

Gold, Gold.

Rolling Stone is here.

Ben Fong-Torres wants to sit down

and discuss Santa Monica.

Oh, shit, get him up to the office.

Is everybody having a good time?

Oh!

Like I give a fuck.

Where is our beautiful coup...

There they are. Look at you.

Aren't they wonderful?

Ronnie, you're gonna be married

to a beautiful stripper,

which is gonna be strange

once you're living together,
because in my opinion,

you're the one with the sweet
set of titties, my friend.

I got to tell you right now, huh?

Oh, look, just take one
of them out, come on.

Come on, I bet you got nipples like...

you got nipples like
dinner plates, don't you?

Ah, come on.

Easy, pal.

- I'm glad you're laughing.
- We're gonna be passing

around tissues, okay?

When the box of tissue comes by,

it-it-it's not gonna
be for tears of joy.

It's gonna be to take care of
that fucking cocaine drip,

all right, so give it a good
rub on the two-car "garagie,"

because the photog is around,
and you don't want to have

your fucking rent in your left nostril.

Every time I sneeze, it's
a fucking car payment.

Right, Ronnie?

You betcha.

It's wedding time!

I just want to say, um...

I don't know what I want...

I just want to say, um...

marriage.

Right? Ah.

Uh...

I'm the...

I'm probably the last to give any advice

o-on marriage, believe me.

I, uh...

I had three of them, so you...

you'd think I'd know something.

But, uh, I don't.

Kindness is what comes to mind.

I think that's important.

They say the most important
thing is health,

but I beg to differ,

because I was a healthy
asshole for many years,

and that didn't do
much for my marriages.

So...

I'm gonna go with kindness.

Kindness...

is what I wish you both.

Be good to each other.

Be kind to each other.

To the happy couple!

Yay! Whoo!

Thank you.

Uh, Ron knew Trudy was the one

'cause it was love at first...

Ron, you disheveled lesbian.

You look like what would happen

if Peppermint Patty fucked Pig Pen.

Trudy's a redheaded girl.

Ron's a talking pig

with a best friend who look like a rat.

What the fuck is this, Charlotte's Web?

Ron, your dick is like the Titanic.

It's cold, unsatisfying,

and all the survivors

are still haunted by the
memories of it to this day.

Trudy's father couldn't be
here today to give her away

'cause Ron didn't want
to be in the same room

with the last guy that fucked her.

I would like to "protose
a post" to Eddie.

- Okay.
- And to a lesser extent, Adam.

My two best friends. I love you guys.

- We're here for you.
- Yeah, buddy.

Yeah.

I would also like to
propose a toast to Gloria,

- my beautiful, smart...
- Den mother.

Okay, fuck you.

I got to give it to her.
Tomorrow UPI is gonna

splash this on every entertainment page

across all 50 states.

She took a pile of shit tonight

and spun it into gold.

All so she could plug her new club

under the guise of this fucking fiasco.

New club's good for everybody.
Another place to perform.

Yeah, for fucking free.

It's a school, remember?

Yeah, it's a school that no
one's ever graduated from.

Let's just say Goldie's
is a school, okay.

So comics come from all over
to cut their teeth, right?

To go on to be bigger and better.

Then what's Santa Monica?
Is that a school too?

No, it's a tourist attraction.

It's not about honing our craft

or freedom of expression.

It's about not paying comics.

It's about using your name and my name

and Roy fucking Martin's name

to line her pockets once again.

Man's got a point.

- Get off me.
- I don't care.

Right here, yep, yep.

Jesus, okay.

Hey, give me a hug. Give me a hug, man.

- I love you.
- I love you so much.

- I love you too. I love you.
- I fucking mean it.

- All right. I love you.
- I fucking mean it.

- I mean it. Do you believe me?
- I believe you.

Hey, hey, hey.

Who do you think you're
talking to out there, huh?

What, don't like your own medicine?

You have no idea what's going
on between Roy and me.

We have known each other for years,

and we are business partners.
Do you understand?

Whatever.

Don't you "whatever" me, young lady.

There is a big difference

between fucking comics
and the relationship

that Roy and I have, hmm?

Well, I think it's a little
late for you to be concerned

about me fucking comics.

- What are you talking about?
- Seriously?

Who do you think I lost my virginity to?

A comic.

Right here in your club

when I was 15.

Come on, Mom, you left
them here to watch me

while you ran errands.

What'd you think was gonna happen,

that they'd help me with my homework?

Who?

Relax. It was consensual.

- What?
- You're really surprised?

Yeah, I had my first fuck here,

my first drink, joint,
and line of cocaine.

- Lower your voice.
- And the people you left

- to watch me were kids themselves.
- Lower your goddamn fucking voice.

I used to wonder how someone so savvy

could have such a gigantic blind spot.

You tell me.

You tell me who you're talking about.

Why?

Who are you gonna avenge?

Me or you?

Cassie, I got Chinese.

You like chow mein, right?

You lied.

What are you talking about?

There's dried blood on the
inside of your shirts.

You said, uh, this was your first time.

Cass.

It's old blood.

- You selfish piece of shit.
- Hey.

All right, look, you have
every right to be upset.

Oh, do I? Thank you for giving me

permission to be angry, Nick.

I blew my audition taking care of you.

I don't know when I'm gonna
stop doing this shit.

I really don't.

I'm sorry.

It's my fault. I'm, uh...

- a fuckup.
- No.

I am a fuckup. I'm a fuckup.

I...

I know exactly who you are.
You are who you are.

And I knew that, and I
invited it into my house.

I invited this in, and I
keep inviting this in.

You are just the most recent boulder

that I have placed in my path.

Okay.

No.

Hey.

- Hey.
- No, don't.

- Okay.
- Just don't. Don't.

Just get out, Nick.
Just get the fuck out.

Fuck.

Hey, you guys seen Trudy?

Yeah, she went out to the
parking lot with Roy.

Said they were gonna do lines.

Oh, no, they drove off.

If you ask me, it seemed like a little

jus primae noctis.

- What?
- You know, medieval times.

A king was allowed to have sex

with subordinate women
on their wedding night.

- All right.
- You know about that?

No.

Roy, are you out of your fucking mind?

What are you doing?

Roy, can you open the
fucking door, please?

- He's crazy.
- What the fuck are you

- doing here?
- There's something wrong

with him... I mean seriously wrong.

I think he's gonna kill himself.

Just go home to your husband, okay?

Jesus fucking Christ.

Roy?

Fuck. Roy!

Hey, Eddie.

Welcome to the top.

Don't move, Roy. Do not fucking move.

Jesus Christ.

Hey, Roy.

Roy!

Okay, I get it, all right?

Commitment to the bit.
Okay, come on back.

♪ All I want ♪

♪ Is an audience ♪

♪ An audience like you ♪

Here I am. You got me.

♪ I want to hear you laugh and applaud ♪

♪ Of all things I do ♪

♪ You may call me a ham ♪

♪ I don't give a damn ♪

- Easy, Roy.
- ♪ I'll confess it's true ♪

Fuck, Roy!

Jesus fucking Christ, Roy!

Stop screaming!

You trying to fucking kill me?

No, no, no, no, Roy.
Come on over, all right?

Just come over the railing and
fucking knock it off, okay?

Have you ever heard of Aesop, Eddie?

Aesop, you fucking idiot, Aesop!

Yeah, Aesop, I've heard
of fucking Aesop.

Well...

have you heard of the cat-maiden's tale?

Oh.

No, I haven't heard of that one.

- Why don't you come over the railing...
- The gods were disputing whether

people could really change their nature.

And Jupiter said yes,

and Venus said no.

So they thought they would
put it to the test,

and they took this cat, you see,

and they turned it into a maiden.

And they gave it to this
young guy as his wife.

Okay?

So the wedding, it goes off well.

The young couple...

- Easy.
- ... they sit down...

- Uh-huh.
- Fuck.

... for the wedding feast,
and everything's peachy.

And Jupiter, being that
cocky motherfucker,

says, "Look at that.

She's a goddamn maiden.

Who would have thought that
yesterday she was a cat?

Surely, people can change their nature."

- Right...
- Venus...

being a cunt, said...

"Hold the fort."

She's smart.

She sends a mouse into the room.

That bride jumps out of her chair

and pounces on that motherfucker!

Please, Roy. Easy, easy, easy.

Okay.

I'm a cat.

I'm a cat, Eddie.

I can't do a fucking thing about it.

Nature dictates who we are.

We just...

pull it off.

Roy!

Oh, fuck.

You really...

You didn't think this one out, did you?

Uh, no, I haven't.

If I let go...

what are you gonna do?

I don't know.

I don't want to be this anymore.

I don't want to be...

I don't want to be Roy Martin.

Antidepressants, lithium,

alcohol, cocaine.

That's quite a cocktail.

And, uh...

what do I do if he wakes up?

Do I do something or...

Uh, get him coffee. Bring him the paper.

What's your job here?

I don't know.

What I just filled him with

will knock the crazy out
of him for a while.

Got it.

Um, hey, Doc, um...

- I don't have any money, so...
- Don't worry.

Somebody always picks up the
tab before it hits the papers.

Best to Ron.

Consider this our honeymoon.

It's actually turtle nesting season.

They come out of the
water and lay their eggs

on the beach at night.
It's supposed to be cool.

There's some cash there, too,
if you just want to stay there.

My lawyer will take care
of the annulment, so...

Well, if you're ever in Venice...

Can I ask you something?

Why did you go with Roy
last night, of all nights?

I don't know.

Why did you ever think you loved me?

Oh!

Oh, fuck.

Excuse me, have you seen a man, tall?

Eh, oh, fuck. Roy!

Oh, fuck.

Oh, my God.

- Synced & corrected by MementMori & chamallow -
-- www.addic7ed.com --