Original subtitles

Previously on Call Me Fitz.

You got yourself a life sentence the second

you whipped your dick out of your pants Fitzpatrick.

There's no escaping parenthood.

First they sabotauged our insurance claim.

Now they outbid us on the new fleet.

Someone is trying to bring us down.

Let me see the little guy.

Free with every purchase.

You have got beautiful eyes.

[cash register bell]

Just like your daddy.

We're rebranding.

Fitzpatrick Family Motors.

So now you want the kid?

I am all he has, I am his home.

I'll send a caseworker for a home visit today.

Where are we supposed to find a house with no money,

no one to vouch for us and...

No!

What's my cut?

Two hits of crank and some lip balm?

I gotta get the dealership back

on track.

And this kid, he's our angle.

So we're a fucking family, now what?

Shockingly, everything seems to be in order.

We'll see you next week.

[gasp]

What do you mean next week?

Court ordered visits for the first six months.

All Fitzpatricks in the same home.

So we can keep an eye on you.

♪ A choir hums A Closer Walk With Thee ♪

Times like this, a man can't help but think

the Good Book had it right.

You know, the part with the raping and the pillaging,

where the wolf screws the lamb and the leopard blows the lion -

Or however the fuck that goes.

Anyway, the one that ends with the kid.

The kid that shall lead them.

I know exactly how the old man upstairs felt.

Because this little shit- dispenser is gonna lead me

to cold, hard cash.

[laughs]

[♪ ♪]

I told you this family-friendly crap

was an ass move.

Fuck.

[♪ ♪]

♪ Without you I'd find my smile ♪

♪ Without you I'd'a won by a mile ♪

♪ Without you Oh life would be so grand ♪

♪ Without you I'm half a man ♪

♪ With out you

♪ Without youuu

♪ Without you.

You think you're having a tough day?

Some asshole painted over my billboard

with a glory hole ad.

Yeah, we never owned that billboard, dude.

Listen up, you back-waxing wop.

I'm Ken goddamned Fitzpatrick!

You think I can't unload these shitboxes?

Oh yeah?

Nobody hangs up on--

This loan shark is balls deep in my ass

and your little bastard's coming up donuts.

It's a baby's fault your geriatric ass

can't run a fucking business?

No, it's yours.

The dick trap who came up with this

family angle.

Now we've got a fleet of twat boxes to unload.

Ah, sorry as you were.

Relax, I know what I'm fucking doing.

Look, we ran our old place off a cheapskates,

and getaway cars, and premium scrap.

What the hell do you know about

pushing a family angle?

I know this-- if the moms won't

come to Fitzy, Fitzy will come

to the moms...

Ah, man again?

[baby giggles]

I don't know why you're talking to me.

I already told you Richard is the one

who needs help.

Look, I know he can be a good father.

He just...

he's got problems.

Oh, he's got problems?

This guy thinks he can eat styrofoam.

Here's a woman enjoys coitus with lawn ornaments.

This next one he's a compulsive finger-licker,

but not his own, and the last guy

I interviewed,

took a shit in that chair.

Well, ah, I assure you

I am one hundred percent sane, mister.

Oh, I'm sorry, this court-ordered

psych evaluation must be wrong.

It, it says here you need to have your

mentally-unbalanced ass assessed or you get

detained for being a threat to a kid.

I'm not the one who left a dead grandmother

in the basement!

We checked.

Zero dead grandmother, one ranting lunatic.

I was angry.

Who then proceeded to strip down to his underwear.

And warm.

Polyesters make me damp.

Sit your ass down, chief,

let me run through this checklist of questions.

Look, don't say anything stupid for

the next sixty seconds and we'll both get

the hell out of here.

Don't worry.

I am emotionally and psychologically solvent...

Which isn't easy when you're the living,

breathing embodiment of another man's conscience.

Fuck you, Monday.

[♪ ♪]

You smoke in front of your kid, asshole?

Lucky for him my windows were open,

thanks to my half-tint Power Glides:

Ventilation at the touch of a button.

Who the fuck are you?

Richard Fitzpatrick, president and CEO of

Fitzpatrick Motors, the finest selection of

pre-owned family friendly vehicles

this side of Detroit.

A used car salesman.

Woah, woah, woah, that is no ordinary

pre-owned vehicle, it also comes with a

gift certificate to Chuck E. Cheese.

Please don't tell me that place still exists.

My kid had nightmares for months.

Singing mice.

Hey it's cheap, employs hot coeds

and serves bottomless moo juice.

Cow milk?

Soleil gets only free-range goat.

Or almond, which I import from

an organic farm -

You see, we have so much in common.

I too am a new parent, struggling to

raise my child.

I was CEO of a Fortune 500 company,

you want to impress me?

Show up in a Learjet.

Feisty.

Fitzy like.

Another dad called me feisty once,

and we all know what happened to him.

[mean laughter]

You think that's goddamn funny?

No.

Using a precious, innocent life force

to sell scrap metal deathtraps?

How dare you spit on the happiest moment

of my life!!!

[tires squeal]

So you live inside the mind

of a used car salesman.

Pre-owned!

It's not that difficult to understand.

Richard lacks a moral compass,

so I provide him with direction.

Helpful hints.

Like hangover cures for the soul.

So how does this tie into your one man

naked conga-line?

Look, every man has his limits, okay,

and mine happens to be finding the remains of

a dead grandmother neglected in a basement.

Oh goody, he's deflecting back to the grandmother.

Let's talk about this so called

"Grandmother."

Don't you air-quote me, mister!

She was real!

You need to quit yelling.

Okay.

Or at least she was real.

Maybe she's a manifestation of your own loneliness.

Ever think of that one ace?

I mean what if, and I'm going out

on a limb here, nobody likes ya?

That's not very nice.

Richard likes me.

Or at least, he used to.

And the wrapper comes off the nutbar.

So tell me, what's changed over at

Functional Family HQ?

Nothing.

Everything's fine.

What could possibly have changed?

Fuck!

When did new moms become sushi-eating,

home-schooling, yoga sluts?

They don't make them like they used to, baby.

What the fuck do those entitled skanks

know about parenting anyway?

I mean I do my time.

I wipe this little turd-monkey's ass.

It's not like he pulls his weight around here.

Fucker doesn't even like my jokes.

What's the matter, little Fitzy?

Can't function without your homo friend?

Fuck Larry.

AWOL just like this little shit's mother.

Ugh, why does this taste like ass?

It's cheese spread on crackers

it's a summer classic.

What summer?

1984.

Alright, you want to keep

living here rent free?

You better start earning it.

Up the snacks.

And you.

Do you think it's easy to pull this

shit-train solo?

Don't be such a pussy.

You let a bunch of moms throw you

out of the playground.

Just like in third grade when that little redhead

stole your smokes and left you crying

on the ground with your thumb up your ass.

She weighed two hundred pounds!

You never could face up to strong women.

Two words Mom: Fuck, followed by you.

Your daddy is scared of

strong women.

Did you know that baby?

Get out of my room asshole!

MOM!!!

Goddammnit!

You even lost your room to a girl.

[laughter]

[tires screech]

Well, if it isn't Power Glide.

I thought you ran home to mommy.

Did not.

I'm late for Pilates.

You think you can bully me?

Think again, you latte-guzzling,

mommy-blogging Spanx-monkey.

I'm not the enemy here.

THEY ARE!

I took a bite of my hangover burrito this morning

while changing this asshole's diaper and I tasted

actual human shit.

I was so bagged last night from his wailing

that I only whacked off once, and I didn't even care

because I am no longer human.

I am a twenty-four- hour slave

to a shit-producing, ear-busting carpet grub.

So fuck your vegan bullshit baby food and your

desk-humping husband.

This parent shit is like sticking your dick in a vice.

Not that I did.

But I'm willing to give it a try

if that's your thing.

Wait!

You're wrong about me.

My fucking kid's spoiled rotten,

my fucking husband's screwing his

dental hygienist, and I was once a

captain of industry.

I ran Ironman's, and I had a coot so tight

I could open a Corona through my J-Brands.

Now my tits are destroyed, my ass is like a

fucking waffle cone and I haven't been laid

in eight months.

Do I need a third trip to the playground today?

No, I do not.

What I need is a stiff drink, and a stiffer dick.

I need some motherfucking me time!

Yes, yes, DOUBLE-SCOOP FOR MOMMY'S

WAFFLE CONE!!

Yeah, yeah!

Yes! Oh!

YES!

[♪ ♪]

How's that for knowing your customer,

you festering cum-sock?

Where the fuck are all the cars?

The customer fairy came and bought

them all up at twice the book rate.

What the fuck do you think happened, dicktard?

They were repossessed.

I leave you alone for three fucking hours

and you get us repo'd by a loan shark?

They showed up with a transport truck full of

muscle while you were busy greasing your joint.

Once again I got to bail out your

senile ass.

Give me the fucking phone.

It's in the office.

[♪ ♪]

Fuck.

[♪ ♪]

Bourbon.

Scotch.

Vodka.

Hey, Deja vu.

Is an album by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young,

as neither of us have ever seen

these people before.

Way to drop the anvil old man.

What the hell kinda loan shark

are you dealing with?

Someone on this strip is trying

to fuck our dealership.

This means war!

We've got forty-eight hours to find 5-K,

or our trailer's going to end up

in a chop shop.

Hello,

Ladies.

Well, well.

We were just talking about you.

Kendra here could use a little

"me time" herself.

I like women who speak fluent Fitz.

One at a time, or have you learned

how to share?

Three bills.

Excuse me?

This is a private conversation.

Save it.

You want a little Fitzy action?

Cough it up.

Mom!

Two.

Two-fifty, money up front.

You'll get your me time tomorrow at 2.

And be sure and tell all your friends.

What the fuck was that?

Have I taught you nothing?

When opportunity knocks, you let it in,

you get it drunk, and you fuck it with

a strap-on until its ears bleed.

Yeah, well profit is all about volume.

And little shit here has only got one dick.

On a good day.

Fuck you!

That's always been your problem.

You think small.

This isn't just about sex.

Those broads are all kinds of deprived.

You want to make money to get your

dealership back?

Here's how it's gonna roll...

OK, first we get the word out for a

one-time-only event...

Now I've got the digs, so I get fifty percent

of the house.

Our cover is a babysitting service.

I'll watch the little shits while you clowns

get down to business.

And by business, I mean pampering

the hell out of their spoiled asses at

a hundred and fifty per cent over fair market value.

A guilt-free paradise.

Whatever they want: Korean foot massage,

crantinis, a couple of lines, a quickie with numbnuts,

butter...

Brothel with a twist.

As long as we keep the heat off.

And I'm not talking about the cops.

Oh my golly.

Maybe I'm jealous.

I used to be the most important person

in Richard's life.

What's so great about a baby?

I don't know, ask your parents.

Oh wait, you don't have any,

because you're a living, breathing conscience.

That baby doesn't even respect me.

It makes me feel as if I don't count.

Can you even imagine what that feels like?

Really?

Do you know what I do every day?

Just sit here and listen to asshole after asshole

talk about their self-created problems.

Which must be horrible.

How's that make you feel Leonard?

Are-are you alright Leonard?

Are those tones of isolation I'm reading?

This sessions over.

No, no, no, no it's not.

I think we're just getting started.

Projection, perhaps, Leonard?

One man manifesting his loneliness?

That doesn't even make any sense!

And you know nothing about my situation.

Which is why it's so great that we can build

this bridge together.

How about a little therapy Leonard,

or "Larrapy," if you will?

Talk to me.

Why the fuck didn't anybody tell me

they were going out?

Just a little Sunday drive.

Sunday dri-

Last time we went on a Sunday drive is when

you got that Vegas wake-up call and we

had to bury that barista.

Who's in there?

None of your fucking business.

We're just having a little party.

[ankle bracelet beeps]

Crap!

Stogies, gummy worms, bleach...

a brothel scam!

I want in.

No fucking way.

You need my room, don't you?

Fuck!

Ten per cent.

Twenty.

Twelve.

Eighteen.

Ten.

You're going down again.

You're pissing me off.

Fine.

But I get to DJ.

Yes!

[♪ ♪]

You're next sweetheart

[♪ ♪]

Ladies, we have a duck with rhubarb chutney,

pan seared scallops with strawberry and bacon,

and a little thing I like to call Joshy's Surprise.

Just get us another round of mommy juice,

would you sweetheart?

What's in the last one?

Let's just say it rhymes with weenis.

Oh I know.

No, don't, no.

Nice ass.

[laughs]

[sighs heavily]

Hey.

Dodge Caravan, right?

Good memory.

Yeah, later's baby.

Give me a double of pick-me-up.

Oh, you tapped out already?

Even Muhammad Ali needed some down time.

Well, if you're floating like a butterfly

not stinging like a bee, I could stand in for ya.

You couldn't get it up with a crane,

old man.

Listen gherkin-dick.

I've got a love pump that'll make Milton Berle

look like a girl.

You really think any of these moms would

pay to see your tiny, shriveled man-meat?

Oh yeah.

You call this puppy shriveled???

WHO WANTS SOME OLD SPICE!

[♪ ♪]

I bust my ass fourteen hours a day,

and for what?

Forty-four grand a year before tax,

free paper clips, and a gift certificate

to Olive Garden come Christmas.

You give and you give and you give,

and no one ever thanks you.

I hear you Leonard.

You see this painting, Larry?

Yeah.

I used to look at this and see my dream ship.

Now, I realize that painting

is the point of view of a

man drowning at sea.

It's a sea of shit, Larry.

All I ever wanted to do was help people.

Then we have something in common Leonard.

We can help each other to help Richard.

He needs a lesson, Leonard.

And the good guys need some payback.

Umm.

Oh.

[♪ ♪]

Twenty, forty, sixty...

Just give me all of it.

[♪ ♪]

OK on your marks, get set...

GO!!!

COME ON BABIES! COME ON BABIES!

[♪ Rock You ]

CRAWL!

COME ON!

HEY 14 JUST PUSHED 11!

THAT'S ILLEGAL! THAT'S ILLEGAL!

GO! GO!

NAAAAAAAARK!

Alright Leonard, it's time to take back

from the takers and win one for the givers.

Now brace yourself for the most

unhealthy home environment

you will ever witness.

Shhhhh!

The babies are resting!

No, No, No, this can't be!

Yeah.

Ah!

Oh!

A ha!

I can't believe I let myself get conned

by this nut job.

Let's go buddy, we've got work to do.

[giggles]

[giggles and shhhh-ing]

[coughs]

Smoked allegro with just a hint

of summer leek?

You guys are fucked.

I can't believe you were right.

Yes!

Which is why I'm going to have to take the kid.

What?

What, no, no, you're supposed to

give him a stern warning,

a gentle psychological nudge.

Wai- yeah, how can you even think about

separating Richard from his baby,

when you two have so much in common?

How many months?

What are you talking about?

Your kid.

The gunk on your collar.

It's kid spew, isn't it?

Yeah.

The sunken eyes, the pacifier in

your pocket.

Telltale signs my friend.

Not sleeping much are ya?

Irritable?

Unable to cope?

I'm a 52 year old new father,

what do you think?

You've been busting your balls trying to

raise the little ankle-biter haven't you,

and what do you get out of it in return huh?

I feel your pain brother.

We all do.

You don't want to call this one in, Len.

What do you say we

call a little truce, huh?

You scratch my back,

I'll scratch yours.

Everyone deserves a little "me time."

Um-hmm.

Oh for F-!

Why is it always me?

Oh, a gay dad.

I did not see that coming.

Well, gotta pay the bills somehow.

Well, I need a drink!

Okay blah, blah, blah, alright, oh, oh!

"And after careful observations involving random check-ins,

it is clear to me that Richard Fitzpatrick is

a loving father and the appropriate

legal guardian of his child."

Dipshit.

Well, we raked in almost seven large.

Should be enough to get our fleet back.

Which I tucked away in a place so shitty

no man dare ever look.

Ah, speaking of which, I still want my cut!

This is progress, Richard.

I think on some level you raised these finances

for your child.

So I would like to propose a toast.

To Richard Fitzpatrick, the greatest new dad in town!

Hear! Hear!

Where is the little shit anyway?

Oh.

Fuck!

Someone stole the fucking baby!