All language subtitles for Difficult.People.S02E10

WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

How much longer do we have
to wait for this car?

Which app is this again?

Oh, it’s called GoX.

It’s short for Goatee Express

because their cars have goatees on them.

Ugh, these ride sharing
apps are so humiliating.

But what are we supposed to do?

New York City’s on high alert,

and we’re not supposed
to use the subways.

What choice do we have

besides riding in cars
with facial hair on them?

My favorite Penny Marshall-
Drew Barrymore collaboration.

And here I am running around,

and I still can’t find
a Yahrzeit candle for my dad.

I don’t understand.
How is this New York?

When the city’s on edge,
everybody just stocks up

on things like candles.

They don’t care that
they’re Jewish memorial candles

you light on the anniversary
of a loved one’s death.

Why would they care
this is the first time

since 2010 I haven’t been able
to light a candle for my dad?

And that was a tough year.
We lost my dad,

and Mel Gibson said you can see
Oksana’s pussy from behind.

I miss seeing movies with your dad.

He loved everything.

Remember that time
we saw "Welcome to Mooseport"

and the lights went up
and he said, "I loved it."

Meanwhile, I don’t have a boyfriend,

and I hate having
all these human emotions.

Maybe I should just give up
trying to find love, you know?

I’m gonna go the Kevin Spacey route.

Just stop trying to be a human being,

and just focus on getting famous,

and then after I have a Netflix show,

focus all of my frustrations

on a boyfriend young enough
to be my own son.

I was about to say I don’t think

there’s anything
much more depressing than that,

but here comes our ride.

I can’t believe that stupid goatee

is gonna be the last thing we ever see

before we’re brutally murdered.

Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx
www.MY-SUBS.com

Loophole, come to bed.

You only got nine hours last night,

and I never heard the end of it.

I can’t. I have to recap

"Bachelorette," which is what you do

when you don’t have a real job
writing comedy for television.

I’m not taking your rose.

You hooked up
with those two guys on the show.

I heard you blew them.

Oh, that is so fucked up.

I mean, just because Ashley
has the good sense

to chow down on the free chorizo buffet

ABC was kind enough to lay out for her,

that dipshit is shaming her like
she’s some kind of a whore.

An update on the city’s terror threat,

which has been raised
from rose gold to bronze.

Fuck, this better not dip
into the rest of the show.

I taped this. Goddamn it.

How am I supposed to do my recap?

Why don’t you just go online,
and find out who she sent home,

and take it from there, dad bod?

Yeah, tell me who went home, Jezebel.

Oh, Jesus Christ, Fern Fujihara?

This 14-year-old took
a picture of a doughnut

that she put on a rodent’s head,

and now she’s repped by CAA?

Fuck this world.

Good night, Blu-ray.

Wow, your editor was okay
with you submitting

this personal essay instead of
your "Bachelorette" recap?

To be honest with you
I don’t think she even read it.

I feel like she just hits publish.

There’s rumors
that she’s actually a goose.

I can’t believe
you wrote your 9/11 piece.

It must have taken you all night.

Well, I procrastinated a little.

Oh, was that when you sent me the link

to Kevin Spacey’s online acting classes?

As a matter of fact, it is.

A $90 gag gift,

but it will be worth every penny

as long as it takes you
a step further on your journey

to becoming Mr. Kevin Spacey.

Oh, it already is. Look at this.

Sometimes you are the chicken,

and sometimes you are the corn.

Ah, that’s amazing!

What are you two sucking
each other’s dicks about now?

Julie wrote an article about
how during the week of 9/11

she was so overcome with grief

that she self-medicated

by fucking 9 random guys and blowing 11.

Way to give Donald Rumsfeld
exactly what he wanted.

Oh, are we talking
about sowing our wild oats?

Hey, do you want to hear
the story about the scar

I got on Merv Griffin’s houseboat?

No, go away.

Okay, fine, I haven’t shaved anyway.

Speaking of which,
my big wedding is in two days,

and you all are invited
to my bachelorette party.

Why don’t you call it a bachelor party,

you Goddamn Teletubby?

Lola, am I or am

I not allowed to call
my bachelorette party

whatever I want?

I don’t care.

I hate you.

And don’t you even think
of misgendering me

by inviting me to your party.

You better work.

Matthew, I am a transwoman
not a drag queen,

you fucking retard,

and I can say that
because I used to be one.

Oh, shit, I meant faggot.

Sorry, Matthew.

- None taken, doll.
- Oh!

Oh, noodles, look at you.

You took our date night seriously.

What? Date night?

Oh, shit, I thought you were joking.

No, I have plans with Billy tonight.

He did a headshot mailing
and got us gigs as seat fillers

at the Mark Twain Awards ceremony.

They’re honoring "Mozart
in the Jungle" this year.

I was going
to bring this up during dinner,

but, string cheese, I got a call
from my mother today.

She and my dad read your piece.

Oh, did they like it?

They were disappointed
that it was so tonally different

than my brother’s wedding announcement

in their golf club’s newsletter.

- That’s fair enough.
- Bank holiday,

I didn’t know
you were writing about me too.

Arthur, you read it too!

Yes, you made our relationship
seem like a humdrum destination

after all the grief-related
fucking and sucking.

Wow, sounds like someone’s jealous

of something that happened 15 years ago,

which was not my fault, Arthur.

It was Al Qaeda’s.

So if you want to be mad at someone,

be mad at Mohamed Atta.

I am.

I’m so glad we got a driver who needed

to tell us his opinions
on musical theater.

I don’t care how many Tony’s it won.

The only thing more insufferable
than "Fun Home"

is riding in this car with you idiots.

Serves us right for getting a cut rate

Uber ride sharing bad jalopy

with a bush on the grill.

A fucking nightmare.

You know, talking to strangers
is, in a way,

its own kind of terrorism.

Kevin Spacey says to always
initiate a scene

even if the other actor
technically talks first.

Jesus Christ.

Is this the line?

Yeah, they’re doing a bag check

because of the bronze alert.

Thank you.

See, that is the only extent

to which I am comfortable
talking to stranger.

How crazy is this weather?

- No, no, no, no, no.
- Turn around asshole.

Okay, so the comments on my 9/11 essay

are only getting meaner.
Listen to this one.

"Whore should have spent
her week volunteering

at Ground Zero instead of
fitting 11 dicks in her mouth."

Who’s to say you couldn’t do both?

That was a long week.

- Yeah, multi-tasking.
- Excuse me.

I’m sorry to overhear,

but did you write that article
about fucking 9 guys

and blowing 11 during the week of 9/11?

I certainly did, and I certainly did.

- I like that piece.
- Hey, thanks.

I’m Sarah Nussbaum.

I’m a development executive
at Josh Gad’s company, Gadzooks.

Wow, Josh Gad’s company
is based in New York?

Julie, the terrorists
don’t stand a chance.

So what’s Josh Gad like?

Oh, I don’t know. I’ve never met him.

He’s really busy,

but I’m in charge
of the film department there.

Has anyone ever talked to you
about optioning that essay?

Well, sometimes when I take a bath

I pretend my dogs are Dana Brunetti

and Kevin Spacey and I pitch them, but-

- Aw, that’s really sad.

Why don’t you come by tomorrow,
and we’ll talk about it?

- Seriously?
- Yeah.

Oh, my God. Yes, thank you.

Okay, so now I’m going to go back

to standing behind you silently
so it’s nice and awkward.

Really?

No, I’m going to go to the front

and tell security I’m a VIP.

See you tomorrow.

- Julie, that’s awesome!
- Aaaah!

Wow, you know, I’d heard

about adult coloring books

and how they’re supposed
to relieve stress,

but I didn’t realize they depicted

actual adult situations, you know?

but look how pretty
I made my herniated disks.

Oh, yeah.

We love how you can breathe
color into certain situations

- like, considering an affair.
- Mm-hmm.

Which is why we optioned it for a movie.

Great idea.

Speaking of which,

we think your essay would make
a really great movie.

We love how empowering
it is to young women.

You know, that was my goal.

Yeah, I remember thinking half way

through blow job number eight,

"Someday this’ll be good for women."

We love things that are good for women.

There’s so much out there
that’s bad for women.

So much bad for women.

But then someone
comes along who’s brave,

who’s not a size zero,

but is still okay with being seen,

and that is so empowering.

Because then you’re like,

"At least I’m not as fat as her."

- Right?
- Yes.

Yeah.

The point is, we’re so excited
to bring your voice to film.

And we have an amazing
co-writer we want you to meet.

This means so much to me, you guys.

You know, recently I was
actually kind of worried

that I wasn’t a girls girl.

Don’t be a stupid bitch.

I even hung out with a group
of Italian girls

from New Jersey who,

as I think about it,
were pretty anti-Semitic.

But now I realize I can
fit in with other girls,

and I don’t need to pretend
to be someone else.

You know what else is empowering?

Do you know that musical, "Fun Home?"

We’re making that into
an online multi-platform game

for Xbox.

- What a great idea.
- Right?

I love "Fun Home."

Yeah!

Poor Matthew.

One sip of a Capri Tini
and he’s out like a light.

You would think that a Capri
Sun with a splash of rosé

wouldn’t have that much kick, and yet...

My baby may not be able
to handle alcohol,

but he can handle
plenty of other things,

- you know what I mean?
- Yes.

- My cock.
- Nope, no.

- It’s a big one.
- I’m leaving.

Hey, Denise and I said

we’d only pay you to be at this party

if you stayed the whole time.

You’re right.

And Kevin Spacey does say,

"If they pay you, you have to show up."

That’s from class eight

which is exclusively
about his voiceover work

in "A Bug’s Life."

Let’s start playing the games.

Pass the torch?

- Where’s the candle?
- Oh.

This was the last one left at the deli.

I can fit this in,

but whoever I pass it to
had better be very relaxed.

It’s ass to ass, men,

as we did it in the Great War.

Are you in?

No. And, Nate,

that is a Yahrzeit candle.

You light one on the anniversary
of someone’s death.

I was looking for one for my dad.

Oh, well, let’s do that
instead of Elmer’s weird game.

Okay, but you have
to keep it burning for 24 hours.

Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do,

go slink off into a corner
and self-suck my own hog?

- I’m straight.
- This party is no fucking good.

I hate to admit this,
Mr. Brunetti, Mr. Spacey,

but I’m really nervous.

Gadzooks is sending over
this hot shit writer tomorrow,

Harvey something, and if we hit it off,

we’re gonna write
our 9/11 movie together.

Noodles, whenever you do pitch meetings

in the middle of the night,

I don’t have hot water to take a shower.

I have to talk to the dogs

because every time
I bring up my essay with you,

you get all weird.

Now, please, take Mr. Spacey for a walk.

I think he took a shit under the couch.

Harvey, known for comedy.

"Blues Brothers 2000."

"Police Academy 6."

And if you’re asking yourself,

what could I bring
to your little fuck romp,

I was executive consultant

on "Red Shoe Diaries," seasons 3, 6,

and a good chunk of 8.

Where’s your toilet?

Matthew, I have been here
corpse-sitting your fiancé,

but this "Weekend at Bernie’s"

is coming to a close,

and his best friend, Marie,
hasn’t even shown up yet.

Her flight was delayed
because of the terror alert.

Well, I don’t know
what you want me to do.

He’s moping around here
like Tony Bennett

during Gaga’s parts
of "Baby It’s Cold Outside."

Get over here, and pick him up.

I’m getting married tomorrow.

I can’t have Elmer
see me before the wedding.

It’s bad enough I’ve been sending pics

of my hole from the salon.

This bleacher’s a maestro.

Do you have anything else
you want to say that proves

Victoria Jackson was right?
Or else I’m hanging up.

Good-bye.

- Hey.
- Oh, hey, Arthur.

Julie’s not here.
I don’t know where she is.

She’s home. She’s not talking to me.

She has some writer guy coming over

so I came to talk to you.

Look, Arthur,
I don’t want to get involved.

You know how she wrote
this provocative article,

and she says I’m slutshaming her?

What, were you freaked out
that she fucked 20 guys

- in a week?
- Lightweight.

So, what, were you jealous?

Is it weird if I say yes?

Well, it is a little
straight guy of you, but...

Well, I don’t exactly think of myself

as the mouth-breathing caveman type.

Arthur, I don’t know from sexism, okay?

When I saw "I Stand With Wendy"
was trending on Twitter,

I thought the Snapple lady had died,

but I guess I do think

that when you judge someone
for sucking too much dick,

you’re dragging gay men
and straight women down.

I’m the opposite of homophobic.

Then prove it. Suck my dick.

No, thank you.

Anyone who dates Julie

is gonna have to be a little gay.

I’m not saying effeminate,
although, you know,

you already straddle that line
with a very delicate balance.

I like my handkerchief collection.

Yeah, me too.

Please, don’t even look at him.

He’ll take it the wrong way.

All I’m saying is, gays,

we don’t really get jealous of the guys

that came in the past.

Treat Julie right now,
and you won’t have to worry

about there being guys
that come after you.

Yeah, that makes sense.

Thank you.

- Yeah, come here.
- Oh, come here.

- All right.
- Ah, now at last

- we’re getting somewhere.
- Go home.

- Bye.
- Save yourself.

Pull that zipper back up.

Zip it, zip it.

There you go.

So I said to Miss Sherilyn Fenn,

"Hey, missy, you could be replaced."

But this was when my IBS
was at its peak.

Would you like to see my CableACE Award?

No, thank you, Harvey,
for the third time.

And would you please keep
the food that you brought

and refused to share in your mouth

and not on the floor, okay?

My dogs can’t eat that much pastrami.

- Noodles, what’s that smell?
- It’s bad ideas

and whatever cologne
this hack bathed in.

That, pussy, is my foot spray.

How are you?

Harvey. Known for comedy.

Would you like to see my CableACE Award?

This one was for "Dream On,"

the first sitcom to show yabbos.

I’m Arthur Tack, Julie’s boyfriend.

Boyfriend?

- Really?
- Yeah, why?

I’ve always been fascinated

by men who are interested
in loose women.

- Excuse me?
- No, no,

no, you like what you like.

I like what I like.

And, aah, "Different Strokes,"

a sitcom, by the way,

that fired me because they claimed

that my pitches were racist and unfunny.

Here, let me tell you

why I should be able to use the N word.

Listen, you dinosaur,

you don’t get to come into my house

and slutshame my girlfriend.

No, no, no shame,

just some girls are meant to schtup

and some are meant to marry.

Whomever my girlfriend was intimate with

before she met me
has nothing to do with me

and is nothing for her
to be embarrassed by.

Besides, I fucked inexperienced
women before and it’s awful.

Well, I am not leaving
until I finish my sour pickle.

In fact, I’ll bet Carrot Top here

has left many a man
with a case of sour pickle.

You son of a bitch.

Oh.

- Ow, ow, ow.
- How do you like that?

- Stop.
- Oh, Jesus.

Ow, ow, not my hair.

Ow, ow, my face.

Sweetie, what’s
the Zappos password again?

So you’re sure you’re okay with me

not wanting to work with Harvey?

Oh, my God.

Of course.

I was so nervous when I called you.

Oh, no, in fact,

we think we found a brilliant solution.

A brilliant solution.

Fern, come in and say hi.

Hi.

Oh, such an original voice.

Julie, meet Fern Fujihara.

She Snapchats food that she doesn’t eat

that she balances on
the forehead of her guinea pig,

and she is going to be
adapting your life story

for the screen.

Wait, I’m sorry,

so you want me to write a screenplay

with a 14-year-old?

Oh, no, she’s gonna
write it with Harvey.

You said you didn’t want to.

But don’t worry, she’s gonna
write it in your voice.

She’s gonna write it in my voice?

Who is she, Rich fucking Little?

Who’s that?

Does he write for Rookie?

No, no, no, no.

This is my story. This is my voice.

Nobody can write in my voice.

- Julie.
- Where’s Josh Gad?

Josh Gad?

Julie, he’s not here.

- Josh Gad?
- He’s never here.

Josh?

So you told them to eat shit?

Well, technically
I blamed my little outburst

on low blood sugar,

locked myself in the ladies room,

ate a Twix bar,
and when I came out I said

that Harvey and Fern
were a dream pairing,

and I’d love to be involved with
the project in any capacity.

Oh, this is so degrading.

I bet this is what Kevin Spacey
feels like

when some hot, young Latino guy

doesn’t get his Jack Lemmon impression.

Well, the good news
is if I make nice and hang out,

they might even let me name
some of the characters.

So you’re not giving up?

No. I’m selling out.

Well, as long as life
continues to disappoint us,

I’m going to pee. Excuse me.

Oh, hey, I’m just
looking for the bathroom.

Come here.
I need help with my cuff link.

I’m so sorry, I have to pee.

No, come on, give an old-timer a hand,

you piece of shit.

Okay.

They belonged to my grandfather.

Genuine wooly mammoth ivory.

I feel like Carl Reiner

interviewing the 2, 000-year-old bottom.

First of all, I’m versatile.

Second, I know you think
I’m a walking corpse

that you have nothing in common
with, but you’re wrong.

Ah, thank you.

When I was your age
I was just as single as you are,

and things were a lot worse back then.

Were they? Because now everyone lives

in constant fear of terrorism,

and everyone meets on their phones now,

and you got to be
a fucking bear or an otter,

and even if you do meet someone,

you never really know who they are,

and then they turn out
to be fucking cannibals

or they’re old-timey neo-Nazis.

What the fucking fuck? Why me?

Because you say shit like "why me?"

Self-pity is like eating
a piece of bad fish.

- And I’m not talking about pussy.
- Delightful.

Can you get to the point
of your elderly wisdom please?

I must pee.

When you eat bad food you feel sick,

you fart all the time,

and no one wants to be around you.

And that’s where you are.

You’re a big fart,

and no one wants to be around you.

Excuse me? I have friends. A friend.

Then stop being such
an impatient New Yorker.

It took me 97 years to meet Matthew,

but if you think I spent
my whole life without love,

you’re as stupid as Fatty Arbuckle,

that stupid piece of shit.

So glad you brought him up.

Elmer.

Oh, Elmer, darling.

I am so sorry I’m late.

Marie. Mwah.

Marie. You’re real.

Who’s this idiot?

Oh, he’s just some mopey little faggot

who’s convinced he’s gonna die alone.

Oh, well, boo fucking hoo.

I’m Elmer’s hag.

Do you know,
those pig fuckers at the TSA

patted me down so hard
I almost squirted.

But it’s gonna take more
than a second 9/11

to keep me away from
my best friend’s gay wedding.

Marie’s the gal whose love sustained me

through the last century.

Oh, and not the easiest
century for gay men either.

- Nor sluts.
- Hey, fuck you.

- Ha!
- We have fun.

This looks familiar.

Marie? Who knew?

Her and Elmer are actually pretty cute.

Arthur, what happened to your eye?

I incurred the displeasure
of a hacky comedy writer

who called Julie a hooker.

Oh, I’m sorry.

Excuse me, you look familiar. Did we?

- Fuck the week of 9/11?
- Yes!

How are you?

I’m great. You look well.

You look well.

Speaking of, I mean, this wedding...

Oh, got you.

Great seeing you. Never forget.

Hi, everyone.

My name is Rita,
and I’m an ordained minister,

and I’ll be performing today’s nuptials.

Another fun fact is I live in the attic

of this banquet hall
with my roommate, Kiki.

If there’s anyone in the congregation

who’d like to buy some uppers, ludes,

angel dust or bennies, I’m holding.

She sure is.

And you know what else Kiki’s holding?

Key to my heart.

Oh, really. You’re too much.

So we have to save the rest for later.

Let’s get this road on the show.

Hit it, Kiki.

Ladies and gentlemen,

this evening’s performance,
the role of the wedding,

will now be played by a funeral.

Apparently Elmer has suddenly died.

- What?
- Chord change.

Okay, everybody stay in their seats.

No.

This happens all the time, okay?

Funeral. Funeral.

Super sweet 16.

Father-daughter
virginity pledge, oh, my God.

Ladies and gentlemen,
ever since Elmer and I met,

he has died, technically, every day,

from between 30 seconds
and four minutes.

Even still, I find myself
completely unprepared.

Key of B flat please.

Thank you.

Ah.

♪ Ave ♪

♪ Maria ♪

♪ Gratia plena ♪

♪ Maria ♪

♪ Gratia plena ♪

♪ Maria gratia plena ♪

Just think, someday that could be us.

I hope I fit into a body bag that size.

Elmer and I met at a urinal.

I remember the first thing I said was,

"Hey, save some of that for me."

- Oh, no.
- Not this again.

No.

The weather’s terrible.
What do you want to do?

- Should we see a bad movie?
- Oh, definitely.

And in honor of your dad,
when the lights come up.

I’m gonna say, "I loved it!"

And in honor of Elmer,
I will expose my genitals

to everyone at Fandango.

Hey, look who’s open to love again.

To be honest, I got to episode 13

of Kevin Spacey’s Master Class,

and it was pretty much just him
yelling at the lighting guy

to try to make his wig look real,

and I thought, "I don’t want
to be like that."

Good for you. I’m proud of you.

You sure you’re not disappointed in me

in not telling the Gadzooks people

to go fuck themselves?

Of course not.

This is show business.

We’ve done worse for less.

Hey, are you guys the folks

that ordered
the Here Comes the Choo-Choo?

Hope you don’t mind sitting
backwards in the caboose.

Maybe we should just say
fuck the Amber Alert

and take the subway.

They say we shouldn’t take it.

- They don’t say we can’t take it.
- Yeah.

I don’t know if it’s Elmer or what,

but life is too short to wait around,

whether it’s for a car
that’s wearing a hat

or a boyfriend

or the perfect opportunity
for you to write your own movie.

Yeah, besides, we’re New
Yorkers; we hate waiting.

Yeah, we’re impatient and unhappy.

By the way,
in those Master Class videos,

did Kevin Spacey say anything
about Robin Wright?

Specifically whether or not
she keeps M&M’s

in that hole she has in her collarbone?

Oh, yeah, she does,
but she only eats them

on her cheat day.

Oh, my God, it’s Pizza Rat!

Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx
www.MY-SUBS.com