- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -
I'm not sleeping good.
Stop worrying about everyone else
and let someone do a thing for you.
Wait, so this and then... and then pancakes?
- Mm-hmm. Yeah. - Okay.
We got the best man speech coming up,
but before we do that, Cam Calloway is in the house.
Cam Calloway! Come on, y'all, give him some love.
So, how was your visit with your dear old pops?
He said he wrote me letters when I was 11.
He may have. I can't recall.
Did you save any of them?
For a time, at the apartment on Washington and Reed.
You probably got a concussion. Want me to call Missy?
Hey, I told you about speaking to my wife.
You keep her name out of your mouth
and her number out of your phone.
Missy, it's Trent Vaughn.
Ma told Cam my existence on Earth
started with a sexual assault on Long Island.
What do you know about that?
There were three of them. Two brothers and their cousin.
What the fuck? How did they get away with it?
They didn't.
Nice ride.
It's a money pit, parts wise.
Serves me right for placing a premium on nostalgia.
Front seat feels like a couch.
American made. Back when America was great.
- America was never great. - The colonists were.
Guess that counts for something.
Not much, but it helps a man get through the unrelenting not-great.
- Here. - The fuck is that?
- Gas money. - The fuck?
Your great American vintage climate change
is guzzling gallons of gas driving me from Boston to Long Island.
- I'm paying. - Fuck you.
Cool. Fuck me. Still paying.
You offer me one more cent,
I'm gonna throw it out the window, then you.
I'm heavier than I appear.
I work out, I can do it.
Maybe. Maybe I drag you along with me.
Maybe I pop your eye out with my thumb
and we both die in a fiery crash.
Possibilities abound.
All right, fine.
Got my own money.
This could have been part of that.
I got a job. A good job. Pays good.
If anyone has a good job that pays shitty, they're a chump.
I'm taking a personal day tomorrow
so I can do this with you tonight.
Oh, a personal day? That is a good job.
I was trying to show gratitude.
Gratitude smells like charity.
Your inference got shit to do with my intention.
I appreciate you.
How'd Uncle J find out who hurt Ma?
People are stupid.
They brag about stupid shit
not knowing it's stupid shit they're bragging about.
And once it's out of their mouths,
they can't control where the information flows.
And that kind of information don't just ebb back into the vault.
That kinda shit flows this way and that way into all sorts of ears.
And all anybody who's curious about the how,
the when, the who, and the why has got to do
is dip their toe into the information flow.
So Uncle J just went poking around down there?
No. He did his shit discreetly.
Complex things. Hard things.
How did he do this particular thing?
The way that things need to get done.
Sometimes things need to be done the way things used to be done.
Jesus Christ, Pookie, how about I just give you
the gas money for one straight answer?
Your Uncle Julius wasn't stupid.
The farthest thing from it.
Yeah, unless you ask a smart person.
He did some dumb shit, my uncle.
You know, he once tried to defrost
a frozen can of soda in the microwave.
Julius knew how to take some things serious.
Some things not serious.
But when the time came for serious things
to be taken seriously with initiative,
he wasn't stupid.
He was a good man.
I gotta know how my uncle had my dads killed.
How ain't important. Why is.
And you know why.
And "Dad" ain't a title they deserve.
Bad habit.
28 years of not knowing nothing does that.
You like music?
I got some stuff on the visor.
Waze says it's gonna be a while.
Waze is the end of learning.
If I go somewhere with Waze and I don't pay attention,
then I just let Waze have its way.
And then when I gotta drive back there again,
I gotta use Waze again like an idiot.
Well, if you change your mind about the music
or where we're going, it's cool, either way.
We're going where we're going.
I gotta see this with my own eyes.
"If you like music," the fuck?
It appears we're not alone.
Mother and Father left.
Yes, Li Hua the maid is here, but she's deaf,
so when I go down on you, feel free to scream bloody gurgle.
Murder.
- Pardon? - It's, uh, bloody murder, not bloody gurgle.
Oh. That actually makes much more sense.
Thank you.
But murder or gurgle, no one will hear.
When you're aroused, I feel purposeful.
I, um...
uh, okay.
Chen, what's up with all the posters?
I just feel like we got an audience, you know what I'm saying?
Just imagine that she's mad with jealousy.
That she's trapped forever watching our passion.
When I was younger, these were the models and actresses
I aspired to romance.
Until such romance was made manifest,
I spent time with them in my imagination.
So way back when, this was the room where you beat your meat?
Not the only room, but the primary one.
And not a chocolate model visible.
- True, but... - Mm-hmm.
there's no white or Hispanic ones up there either.
Living in communist China had its restrictions.
For instance, this is the closest I ever got to a boob.
Lots of childhood memories here.
My leaving home at 15 for prep school
was like a death for my parents.
I left and time halted.
The thing they built their life around, me,
stopped existing in their here and now.
It was a difficult time.
It expanded my horizons, yet broke their hearts.
This is a really nice room.
I mean, I never had a room like this when I was a kid.
Cassie, what is it?
Nothing.
I will take down the posters.
I didn't think of how it might come across to you. I apologize.
No, um, just me thinking about you at 15 and me at 15.
I would have loved you as much.
Fate had its designs on our hearts.
All we needed was an introduction.
I never had a room like this.
Never a room like this for my kids.
And yet, look at all they have now.
You gave them the perseverance to get there,
a more valuable gift.
I did my best. It wasn't always great, but...
fuck it, it was my best.
I know.
And there are countless beds in this house
where I can give you my best.
Which also isn't always great,
but is usually at least energetic and acceptable.
Come here. Hmm.
Don't undersell yourself, baby.
The way you speak to my heart makes me want to scream
bloody gurgle on a regular.
- Mmm. - Mmm.
Thanks for helping.
Don't thank me 'til I helped.
Yeah, you making phone calls trying to help is helping.
Sorry about the best man speech.
Come on, man, we already did that.
I know. I said it and I texted it,
but I wanted you to hear me say it.
All right, man. It's over and done with.
We don't need to keep talking about this like we're gonna fuck later.
Hey, I ain't perfect. I'm on to new shit.
Still can't believe how much this neighborhood's changed.
Gentrification, dude.
I wish I would have bought some apartments back in the day.
You and me both. We had no money back in the day.
Ah, and now you do.
You do the investing, I'll do the flipping.
I don't know nothing about real estate.
I mean, shit, what's to know?
You buy a shitty place, make it less shitty,
then you sell it for more than you bought it for.
Sure, sure, yeah, let's... let's talk to Reggie.
Look, man, don't "sure, sure" me.
I believe this shit can work.
All right, well, let's get to that
after I throw this Hail Mary here.
Where's your friend at?
Hey, douchebag.
Here he is.
- Paul. - Mark.
Cam. Cam, Mark.
I really appreciate you coming out.
You should. It's late.
Christ, it ain't that fucking late.
- Ah, I gotta work tomorrow. - Yeah, quit bragging.
- When you live in there? - When I was 10.
Like I fucking know how old you are.
- What year? - I think 2000, 2001.
All right. Well, let's give it a shot.
I texted around. I once knew the kid that bought the place.
Yeah, I already told him all that shit, man.
Yeah, well, how the fuck am I supposed to know
what you're saying when I ain't here?
I mean, my sister gave me this old number
from a kid who knew the guy's mother from church.
But the number didn't work.
So he doesn't know we're about to bang on the door.
Yeah, yeah. You gotta work tomorrow. Come on, let's buzz him.
Well, if he's pissed it's late, tough shit for us. Especially you.
Well, I appreciate you going through all that.
Ah, any favors for Paul.
I mean, he's an ornery fuck, but he's a sick cleanup hitter.
Oh, we play softball together. Fucking Facebook, man.
You comment on somebody's post, they comment on your shit,
then it's amazing the friends you make.
Come on.
Trent?
Missy.
I recognize you from photos.
Uh, uh, thank you for calling me.
He's back in triage.
I'll go find him.
Like I said on the phone, he'll be okay.
I didn't tell him I called you, so he might not be pleased.
I'm not pleased. What... what happened?
Don't know. I came out mid-tussle.
He's in the emergency room and you call it a tussle?
When everyone in the fight walks away from the fight, yeah,
I call that a tussle.
- Okay. - He got hit with a bottle,
but he's gonna be okay.
After he heals from his tussle-inflicted bottle wounds.
- Okay. - Listen.
Thank you for letting Reggie know I was in town.
I don't know what he's told you about me,
but a lot of it, most of it,
is not good... was not good.
You letting him know that I called
gave me the opportunity to apologize face to face.
Since this is probably the last time I'll see him,
I thank you for that.
Although I'm sorry we're now here.
What the fuck did I tell you?
Did I fucking tell you or did I not tell you? You don't bother my wife?
- Reggie. - Missy, please.
- Listen, Reggie... - Reggie, Reggie, the hospital called me.
What? Why?
Probably because I'm your emergency contact through your insurance.
And since you are in the emergency room dealing with head trauma...
- I'm fine. - ... I'm sure their protocol
in such a scenario is to alert the next of kin.
I didn't give them your name.
You... you give them the policy number?
I gave them the wallet card thing.
- The thing with the policy number? - I believe it's on there, yeah.
When you give them your policy number,
our information comes up.
You are in my information. I am in your information.
Okay, okay, okay. You don't have to step it out.
- Okay. - I was just asking
because I didn't expect to see you.
I didn't call you. I asked him not to call you.
I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry.
- How are you? - I'm fine. They glued it up.
- Missy. - Oh. You look woozy.
I'm fine, all right?
Did somebody look at your hand?
I'm... I'm fine.
You might be fine, but this hand is not.
- That is broken. - Nah, I don't think so.
I do.
- Nah, it's... it's fine. - That ain't fine.
That's fucked up, man. Looks like a Halloween costume.
Like a hand-shaped glove. It, uh, it does.
Needs some ice.
- It needs more than ice. - Fuck it.
I'll get it looked at later.
I'm... look, I gotta get back to the hotel.
What the fuck do you gotta get back to? The Red Roof Inn?
- Courtyard Marriott. - Hey, look at you.
I got a rate.
- Okay. - Trent, is it because of insurance?
Is that the reason you're not getting this looked at?
No, it's not the only reason.
I kinda like to stay out of databases.
This is James fucking Bond over here.
Get it looked at. I'll pay.
- I'll go to the Urgent Care tomorrow. - Just get in line.
I got this. I'm not asking you to get this.
Hey, you hurt your hand throwing a punch to save my ass.
The least you could do is let me pay to fix
the very hand you used to whoop me with.
♪ Last dance ♪
♪ Last chance for love ♪
Little higher, Pookie.
♪ Yes, it's my last chance ♪
♪ For romance tonight ♪
♪ Oh, I need you by me ♪
- Pantomime. - ♪ Beside me ♪
♪ To guide me ♪
♪ To hold me ♪
♪ To scold me ♪
♪ 'Cause when I'm bad ♪
♪ I'm so, so bad ♪
♪ So let's dance ♪
♪ The last dance ♪
♪ Let's dance ♪
- ♪ The last dance ♪ - Take it up now.
- ♪ Let's dance ♪ - Yes!
♪ The last dance ♪
- ♪ Tonight ♪ - Hold it down, hold it.
♪ Night ♪
Yes!
Oh, I think I just tinkled!
I can't believe I used to live here for two years.
Didn't look like this.
Yeah, we can do better.
We're about to start flipping houses.
Good for you.
I think this is what you came here for.
Holy shit.
- Holy shit! - Yeah, holy shit is right.
I found these up in the ceiling tiles when we gutted the place.
I mean, not in this bin. I got this bin from Target.
Uh, these letters were crammed up there in those shitty ceiling tiles.
You know the ones I'm talking about?
- He fucking lived here, Brian. - Right.
Well, after I ripped down the shitty tiles,
I found these letters, I put them in this bin.
'Cause I don't want the silverfish eating the paper.
You know, they nibbled on the corners of five or six of them,
but luckily for you,
silverfish aren't that fucking ravenous of a vermin.
Yeah.
- You want to know why I saved these? - I would.
My father was in prison for a long time, too.
- Shit. - It's a messed up coincidence.
There is no coincidence. This is God's work.
Now let me fill in the details.
My dad was a bag man for The Winter Hill Gang.
You talking, like, real life fucking The Departed movie shit?
Worse. Nothing cinematic about it.
No Mark Wahlberg. No Adam Baldwin cracking jokes.
It's Alec, not Adam.
Whoever the fuck. I don't give a fuck what his dumb ass name was.
It was a shitty movie and I didn't fucking like it.
What the fuck was a wop like Scorsese doing an Irish movie anyway?
The real life version of it was fucking hell.
Wreckage everywhere. Nothing to be proud of.
My father's participation in this,
although not on the murdering scale,
regardless, cost him his freedom.
But when he was in prison, he wrote me letters, too.
Lots of them. The letters were shit. Full of piss and vinegar.
It was like being yelled at in print.
But he wrote to me about life in absentia.
About honesty and loyalty and betrayal.
He wrote to me about being betrayed by scumbags,
which he himself wouldn't admit that he was, but he was.
But those letters meant everything to me.
He was trying to make up for his absence, you know?
Failing, but trying.
And then one day he wrote me a letter saying,
"I'll see you when I get out.
And we're going to go to Buzzy's for a roast beef sandwich."
Roast beef was going to be the bridge
to a better future for the two of us,
and that we would have it together.
But he never got out.
He died in prison 10 years ago.
Yeah, I'm gonna sneak out. I gotta work in the morning.
When I bought this place two years ago,
we gutted the kitchen, ripped up the floors,
all the fixtures, we busted down some walls. It was a complete redo.
- The place looks great. - Yeah?
- Agree. Props. - Thank you.
I got a great deal on the marble counters.
The only problem is you can't cut any fruit
unless you have a cutting board or it just leaves stains.
- No shit? - Oh, you can't have citrus anywhere near marble.
- It's porous. - Oh. We gotta keep that in mind
when we start buying places.
You know, people love their limes and lemons.
We don't want to get a call six months after escrow closes
like, "Yo, what the fuck happened to my marble counter?"
I mean, you know, we could just do stainless steel.
You can cut the shit out of that and it'll just create a patina.
- Right. - What, are you guys flipping apartments?
- We're thinking about it. - Doing it.
Yeah? I got a cousin who's a roofer.
Kind of a prick, but he does really good work if you want his number.
- Ooh, send me his info. - Dad, who's here?
Conor, what are you doing up? Go back to bed.
I'm thirsty. Can I get a drink?
Oh, sure. Why don't you grab a Coke or a Corona or something?
- Really? - No! Go back to bed!
So unfair! I hate you!
Well, it means I'm doing something right.
Anyway, when I saw the return address on these letters,
I knew that a moment like this was going to come.
Look, I'm so grateful that you kept them.
Really. Like, thank you.
I... I tried to get these back to the prison.
I just didn't think about it and I'm sorry.
Thanks for holding on to them.
This is some real Color Purple shit, man.
You're like a white Danny Glover, but cool.
- You a praying man? - Not as much as I should probably, but yeah.
- Yeah, I've prayed, sure. - Hey, that prayer shit is powerful.
A lot of people think that belief is for pussies.
I don't.
God's in me, God's in you, God's in you,
God's in Mark. Where in the hell did Mark go?
He gotta get up early for work tomorrow.
Like I don't?
Nice manners, you fucking prick.
Mark and I were in Cub Scouts together. Think about that for a second.
Now he's playing softball with your friend here.
- How the fuck do you think that happened? - Facebook, man.
Fuck Facebook. This is God.
You and I are two degrees of separation away from each other
and we didn't even know it.
I'm sorry. I'm a hockey guy.
I don't know shit about basketball.
I don't even know who the fuck you are really, but uh... uh...
No worries, man. It's not a problem.
All I'm saying is
you can't keep questioning how prayers are answered.
You just gotta throw it out there to God
and let Him work in His mysterious ways.
And once in a while, on occasion,
He pulls out this miraculous supernatural Harry Potter shit
to remind us who He is.
And so things like this can happen.
Hey, you ever want Celtic tix?
- Fuck, yeah. - Shut the fuck up and go back to bed!
Yeah, I'll take you up on that offer.
Surprise the little shit for his birthday, right?
- I'll set it up. - Cool. Paul, right?
That's me. Good job connecting the dots.
Keep walking in the light.
Good night, fellas.
Man, that dude was fucking talkative.
Yeah, baby.
Yeah, baby!
♪ That's the way to start the day ♪
♪ Baby, baby, baby ♪
♪ The way to start the day ♪
You are so stupid.
Ah, but you love my stupid self.
I do. I really do.
Oh! Whoa!
Okay, I'm on Zillow.
Oh, we could definitely be flipping spots.
I been peeping them joints on The House Channel.
It ain't hard.
A spot like this with 800 square feet.
You could design-on-a-dime this spot for, like, 15 stacks.
Be up, like, 15 to 35% on your investment in no time.
Shit. I forgot to get the roofer contact from Brian.
It's up here.
He needs a pin, but he should come back
when there's a better orthopod.
The guy who's on call now is not who you want doing it.
Trust me. Shaky hands.
I appreciate the honesty.
I'll have the doctor write you a prescription so you can sleep,
but it's better to come back tomorrow.
We'll take you to a 24-hour pharmacy.
I'm... I'm fine.
The shock and the adrenaline will wear off.
You'll need something strong.
Yeah, come on. We'll pay for the pills.
I can afford the pills. I can't take the pills.
My sobriety. I'm off everything, five years.
You say. I need to keep saying.
All right.
We'll call Cam's team doctor.
He'll give us the best guy to un-Halloween your hand.
Missy, you'll drive my car home. I'll come get yours tomorrow.
You'll stay with us tonight.
- That's not necessary. - We have a guest bedroom.
You don't need to be in a hotel room.
Not... not in this kind of pain.
This is gonna hurt like hell no matter what room I'm in.
Hey, can we please talk about this somewhere other than here?
Maybe we ain't gotta talk at all.
We just go home and we sleep it off,
or maybe we don't sleep it off.
Maybe we just... we sleep, we wake up,
and we find out what we're trying to sleep off is still on.
I don't know. I just want to sleep
and get to tomorrow as quick as I can.
My favorite fucking shirt.
So they all went on the same day?
Like I said, two brothers and a cousin.
So I guess they got a three for one deal on Ma and on the tombstones.
Can you give me a moment, Pook?
Of course.
Okay.
Well, hello, Rape Father Number One.
This conversation's a lot more one-sided than I'd always hoped.
I'm here. Bet you never thought your little crime
was gonna lead to me, but here I am.
Your daughter. Your grown daughter.
About 13 years older than you ever made it.
I am a lesbian. I love that about myself.
It's got nothing to do with you, by the way.
I know that to my core.
Finally going to college.
I'm a messed up person trying to become a better one.
I hope hell is going well.
Greetings, Rape Daddy Number Two.
I call you that because I don't know which one of you
got to Ma loaded with seeds of me.
Quick question. If you're gonna rape a girl,
why not wear a rubber? Just a thought.
Oh, yeah, fuck you.
Rape Dad Number Three, hi.
How about this? You're dead, I'm alive.
I wonder if when Uncle Julius called those goons on you,
you said sorry.
I wonder if you knew
you were getting killed.
Or if it was a drive-by.
I'm gonna guess you knew.
I'm gonna guess punishment ain't punishment
if the punished never suffer.
Pookie won't tell me.
But if you did know,
did you cry
and beg for your life?
Because this... this is so fucked up.
I think I just got snot on you.
I don't care.
You got a tissue or something?
I'm like Viola Davis over here.
Got a handkerchief. A clean one.
Not for long.
I think this is what people thought about
when they coined the term "mindfuck."
I mean, maybe it's not a word you'd find in Webster's dictionary,
but this...
yeah.
This is a mindfuck.
It ought to be a word if it ain't.
I mean, think about it.
Without the rape,
there's no me.
Isn't that a mindfuck?
Let's get out of here.
I thought I would feel better.
"What happened with me and your moms?
Not on you.
How I ended up here?
Not on you.
Why we don't talk?
Not on you.
Sometimes life hits you with bad luck.
And sometimes we take the bad luck life's handed to us and multiply it
and make it a whole lot of brand new bad luck from scratch.
Try to be someone who doesn't make bad luck for themselves.
It's the hardest kind of stuff to resolve.
I'm sorry, Cam.
Sorry for not being a father who's able to be there for you.
Take it for whatever it's worth.
Happy birthday.
Love, Dad."
_
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -