Hey!
Hey.
For those of you who watched last week
and don't have drug-induced brain damage,
you can skip the next 30 seconds.
You don't have to watch that shit.
- The rest of you losers...
here you go.
Sparky, Shelly. Shelly, Sparky.
She's your boss.
Well, vice boss.
I made a little arrangement with Larry.
- So you're mine now. - You were right.
We got to kill her.
If you want Todd,
you're gonna have to go through me.
His manager. That's who.
Do you want to go upstairs?
We could kick off these heels,
raid the minibar, and check out the view.
I left you a little something on the nightstand.
Saw an old lady get shot
at the Ashcroft bus stop last night.
You know, the streetlights were out.
You did a good thing, Citizen Carl.
Got involved.
Made a change.
Do you want to join me?
- Faye Donahue. - Frank Gallagher.
Let's go to my place and eat this Greek food.
You live in your car?
Indeed I do.
You?
What the fuck are you doing here?
Hey, hey, what the fuck, man? Hey!
Good morning.
Where—where's Fred?
He passed out while nursing.
We've got six to eight minutes tops.
Mm.
Oh, and one of us has to go to the store today
and get more diaper cream
'cause his rash is now halfway up his back.
Oh, yeah. Talk dirty to me.
Wait.
Wait. You said it's worse than yesterday.
What?
Fred's rash.
Uh, no, it's fine.
Hey. No. His ass is fine.
And your ass is fine.
Yeah. It's just—sorry.
It's just, the new daycare says
they can't take him if he's sick.
It's diaper rash.
It's not the bubonic plague. All babies have diaper rash.
- Okay.
Mm.
Mm, maybe we should get it checked out, though.
- Lip. - You know? Yeah.
Lip, he's gonna be at daycare for four hours total.
- Get a grip.
Look, we don't have a choice. You want to—
Look at my chart.
Yeah, but it's his first day.
You've got AA. Then you're at work till four.
I'm at the salon at noon.
So there's a four-hour gap in child care.
Yeah. So Brad'll let me out of work early.
We need the cash.
Well...
I mean, we need the cash so we can afford daycare.
Doesn't that seem a little ass-backwards?
No.
Ass-backwards is the Gallagher method,
where the next-oldest kid just keeps kind of a vague eye
on the rest of the herd.
Well, it's free.
Liam is ten.
He's not watching our baby.
Liam?
I was gonna say Franny.
- Oh, Franny? - Mm-hmm.
- No. - Fuck.
get some fuckin' flapjacks.
Ian Gallagher? Mikhailo Milkovich?
Yeah, I'm Ian Gallagher. Can I help you, Officer?
Got some bad news for you.
Your PO was found dead this morning.
Paula's dead?
Fell out of a third-floor window.
Detectives want you both to come down to the station today,
make statements.
Why?
We don't know anything about that.
Whenever a PO dies, detectives interview all the parolees,
especially if the death was suspicious.
Suspicious?
Well, people usually open a window
before they jump out it.
See you at the station.
Bring Milkovich.
Good.
Go. Get your backpacks.
- Get your book, Amy.
Let's go! Let's go, people!
Kev, get dressed! We leave in three.
V, look at this.
- What is it? - IRS.
Oh, no!
Sweet baby Jesus. No, no, no, no.
Our day just got shitty.
Did we not pay our taxes on time?
Are you asking me?
How do I know? You do the taxes.
No, I know—I know— I know we did.
I-I paid the check,
and I did the amend B-59X whatever.
I know I paid it.
What do you want me to do? Flush it? Burn it?
No. We got to face it head-on.
Hold Mommy's hand, girls.
No way. A check for $825?
$825?
What? Give me that.
"Tax credit," blah, blah, blah.
From when I worked at the nursing home?
I vote Jet Ski.
And I vote no!
Come on, girls. We got to go to school.
- Kev, you coming? - Yeah.
- Kev! - Shh.
- Come on, girls. - Let me have this.
Mickey?
Mickey! Hey, come on out. Cops are gone.
The fuck they want?
Paula's dead.
No shit. Is it Christmas?
It's not funny.
Someone threw her out a window.
You kidding me? That's extremely funny.
There's, like, a fucking verb for that
I-I'm serious, Mickey.
They want us to go into the station for questioning.
You know anything about this?
Nah. Fuck, no. I didn't kill her.
Wait. Do you know something about this?
No.
- That what you're telling me? - Of course not.
Got it.
Good strategy.
Wait, what stra— I-I didn't kill her.
- Little bit, you did, though. - No. Not little bit.
I did zero murdering of my PO last night, Mickey.
- Okay. - I'm not the one
who came home late without any sort of explanation.
I did explain. I was with my dad.
No. You didn't explain why you were with your dad.
Exactly.
Okay, so, to be clear, you didn't kill her,
or, you know, you "didn't" kill her"?
Why are you putting shit in weird fucking air quotes?
Because I didn't fucking kill her.
Okay. Me neither.
We both know what we know we know...
that we know.
What the fuck does that mean?
- Hey. Where you going?
Wouldn't you like to know?
I-I-I would.
I would like to know!
All right. Pick your poison.
- Cereal or toast. - Pass.
Todd's biggest game of the season is today.
Got to stay sharp, stay hungry.
Shouldn't you be doing fun kid stuff this summer?
Like Slip 'N Slide in the yard?
Talent management is fun, Tami,
if it's the kill that you love.
- Excuse me.
It's the coast.
Go for Todd.
Good. You're still here.
- Hey. - I need to talk to you.
Uh, okay.
I met this awesome woman last night at a hotel bar, right?
- Okay. Yeah. - Claudia.
She's older than me, but not in a rape-y way.
She's got this beautiful smile and these bright eyes
and these sexy little Lisa Loeb glasses.
Debs. Hey.
So, anyways, we spent the night together last night.
- Yeah. - And then she gave me this.
I'm really confused.
Why would she give me 1,000 bucks?
Um...
I'm not. She, uh—
She thinks you're a prostitute.
- What? - Yeah.
But it was voluntary hooking up.
I liked the sex. I think she did, too.
Yeah. I like fixing bikes.
But it's my job because someone gives me cash to do it.
- But we really hit it off.
It wasn't like a gross sex worker situation at all.
Who's a sex worker?
- Debbie. - No.
This is a misunderstanding
that will be cleared up immediately.
Okay.
- Tami. - Yeah?
Could you wake up Franny in 20 minutes
and watch her till I get back?
I can for a little while,
but then I got to take Fred to daycare, get to work by noon.
- Cool. I owe you. - Wait, wait, wait, Debs.
How much do you owe her?
Because you have to be clear about terms up front.
- Shut up, dick. - You know?
Oh, thank fuck you're here.
- Hey. - I need to talk you.
- You're popular this morning. - Yeah.
Hey, Tami, uh, it's kind of a brothers-only situation.
Thanks.
What's up?
I think Mickey killed our parole officer.
- You what? - Yeah.
She got thrown out a window last night,
and he hates her, and he was out late.
Plus, he's a psychopath, so...
Yeah, but you-you really think
Mickey would kill a parole officer?
We just had this whole conversation
where he said he basically did it,
you know, in his Mickey way of not saying he did it
but totally saying he did it.
- You know? - No.
Well, I don't know what the fuck to do.
I mean, I'm supposed to make a statement to the police,
and—I mean, do I lie and say he was here all night?
- Or— - Yes.
You're a Gallagher, right?
Always lie.
Why are you squirming so much?
- Something wrong with you? - I'm not squirming.
The point is, V,
when you have the money, you got to spend it.
- Five-dollar scratchers. - No, Kev.
But we have $800.
We could buy a million five-dollar scratchers.
What about Disneyland,
a once-in-a-lifetime experience for our children?
Fuck that mouse.
I'll take another Sea Breeze, please.
Or we go to the Indian casino, and we double down on craps.
Let it ride.
What do real people do with money?
That's what I want to do.
- Invest it. - In what?
You know who you should talk to?
My buddy Gerald's daughter. She is a money genius.
She—she invested in this Korean company,
selling their products from home.
Now she's got a Mercedes.
I want a Mercedes.
We could sell Korean stuff, V.
We could sell the shit out of Korean stuff.
We don't have a ton to invest.
Well, neither did she.
She was a waitress.
Want me to get her number for you?
- Good morrow, friends.
Chums. Old pals.
I'm gonna use the ladies' room.
- Hurry back, bunny.
Mm, hop, hop, hop.
Is it a beautiful morning or what?
- Stop gloating, Frank. - Oh, shut up.
You and the lady friend are getting tight, huh, Frank?
Wait. I don't care.
We are getting tight, V. Thank you for asking.
Only thing that's a little bit odd is,
she appears to live in a Rolls-Royce.
A Rolls?
You see, I don't want her to feel uncomfortable
that she's homeless.
We've all been there.
- Never. - We've never been there.
I'm probably homeless right now.
Got to check with the kids about that.
Are you sure she's homeless, Frank?
The Rolls-Royce doesn't make sense.
Yeah, have you actually asked her,
"Do you have a house, Faye?"
Got to play the long game with a woman like this.
Let her dole out the info at her own pace.
Peel back the onion
and reveal her ripe fruit to me when she's ready.
Hey, Faye, do you have a house?
Yes. Why?
Staff meeting.
Now in session.
All right.
We got a special today.
Shrimp tater tots.
Part tater, part shrimp.
I'ma throw up.
Looks like you fried a turd, Lori.
Serving these beauties up with a slice of lemon
and a dollop of tartar jizz.
Seven-fifty with a combo drink and fries.
Jesus.
You getting all this, Carl? Hello?
- Yeah. I got it. - What's wrong with you?
He's questioning his life choices.
Going through his "wants to do good for the world" phase.
It'll pass.
Why would you want to do good?
I don't know.
Guess it felt good saving lives and fixing streetlights.
Felt like I had a purpose on this earth, you know?
- Join the military. - I can't.
I'm banned.
So gain 50 pounds and be a cop, then.
I'm too young to apply.
Guess this is my fate— serving shrimp taters.
Let me tell you something, Carl.
You think I always wanted to do this with my life?
Serving up fried turd balls with a bunch of ex-cons?
I'm a vet, Lori. Two tours!
This wasn't my dream. I wanted to be a teacher.
But cocaine tasted so good, I just did that instead.
The point is, you got to have dreams.
Go be a cop.
Can't apply till I'm 21.
Uh, you ever heard of faking a birth certificate
using a dead guy's name?
Some big people here today. Am I right?
- Yep. - Whose your boy?
Sixteen.
You got Todd Bryerson?
Nice.
I'm with 22.
Cordel Jackson.
Yeah, we're positioning him to take a third endorsement today.
Timbo Keller, RCE Sports Management.
- And you are? - You're not poaching my boy.
Whoa, little man. I was just gonna say—
Walk away.
- Wow. You're paranoid. - I've seen you eye him.
Walk away.
Listen, buddy. Got a strategy.
Check it.
The new Apollos? Not out yet.
They're gonna be huge.
New lace technology.
Self-tightens.
Apollos?
That's all you can get me?
Cordel's got Air Jordans, and RCE signed him.
Trust me.
Get photographed in these. Boom, leverage.
What's leverage?
Don't worry about it.
Trust me.
Hey, Officer Berto. Can we talk for a second?
I haven't seen your dad. Buzz off.
Wait, wait. It's not about my dad.
- It's about lawyers. - Worse.
- I'm on my break. - Great.
When you got arrested
for beating the shit out of that Cardinals fan,
who was the lawyer that got you off?
Danny Alvarez.
Best lawyer around.
Five hundred an hour. Worth every penny.
Yeah, I thought I was fucked when Tina wouldn't marry me,
but Danny saved my ass.
Got me off scot-free.
Wouldn't marry you?
What's that got to do with anything?
Oh, 'cause married people can't testify
against each other in a court of law.
It's called spousal privilege.
That's why I tried to get Tina to marry me,
but the bitch said, no, she wouldn't cover for me.
So I had to hire Danny.
Married people can't testify against each other? Ever?
Nope.
Any knowledge you have
of each other's shit is strictly confidential.
It's what we in the biz call a loophole.
What's his blood type?
What? They need to know his blood type
so he can do tummy time?
Mm.
I'm just gonna put "red."
Who's his emergency contact?
That's easy. Me.
Who are they supposed to call if we're both unreachable
and Fred's having a seizure?
Seizure? Jesus.
What are they gonna do to him in this place?
Cami.
No. Your sister? No. No, no, no.
Uh... Ian.
Ian the felon?
Uh, uh, Debbie, then.
The prostitute.
Okay. Um...
look, why don't we just leave it blank, huh?
You can't leave it blank. So Cami.
She and Brad are gonna be Fred's legal guardians anyway.
What? Since when?
Why wouldn't they be?
Uh, because Brad fell off the wagon so hard
that we had to pick him up out of a ditch last year,
and you hate your sister?
- I don't hate my sister. - Yes, you do.
And we all do.
Fine. Um, my Aunt Oopie, then.
Aunt Oop—no. Fuck, no. What?
Okay.
Who did you have in mind to be Fred's legal guardian?
I don't know. Can we just do this later?
A Gallagher, though, right?
Honestly, I hadn't even thought about it.
Bye, buddy!
Hey. We will be talking about this later.
Yes.
- Bye!
Debbie?
Hey. Uh...
I was just wondering why you gave me this last night.
Oh, I'm sorry. Was it not enough?
Here, come in. Come in.
Just, um— my wallet's right over there.
Just take whatever your rate is.
- I wasn't sure.
Claudia, I don't have a rate.
I'm not a prostitute.
You're not?
Why were you sitting with all the prostitutes, then?
You know, they call that Ho Corner.
I did not know that.
I just met you, and I thought I liked you.
So I was a freebie?
No, you weren't a freebie,
because you're not a john and I'm not a prostitute.
I just thought we hit it off.
Oh!
Well, I thought we had a connection, too.
So this is a misunderstanding?
Big mistake. Huge.
Great.
Um, I have to get to work,
but can I take you out on a proper date later?
Sure.
How long are you in town?
I live here. Up in Lake Forest.
I just get a hotel room
when I have a late meeting in the city
or I'm too fucked up on, you know, and looking for a...
So, uh, dinner?
How about seven o'clock tonight?
- Sure. Sounds good. - Okay.
And here, I'm gonna return this.
Oh, no, no, no. Keep it, as a gift.
It's the least I can do for insulting you.
Oh!
And if you're free today,
why don't you just enjoy the room?
I mean, I have to go to work,
but I can arrange for a late checkout.
I mean, just order up some room service
or a spa treatment.
Well, thanks.
I don't understand.
If you have a house, why didn't we sleep in it?
It's embarrassing.
You'll think I'm crazy.
There is zero percent chance that I'll think you're crazy.
What's embarrassing? You got bedbugs?
You know what? Let's change the subject.
Come on.
Tell Frank.
You got a husband back home?
Much worse than that.
Children?
It's haunted, Frank.
I'm terrified to be there alone.
That's why I sleep in my car.
"Haunted"?
Every floor,
every room,
including the ballroom and servants' quarters.
How big is this house?
Twenty-two thousand nine hundred eleven square feet.
On the lake.
Nine bedrooms, including the master.
But that's mostly just storage
for my father's single-malt scotch collection.
Your father collects scotch?
Did. Yes.
He's dead now.
He has hundreds of bottles of the stuff in that room.
I mean...
Not that I'm brave enough to go in there.
You know, Faye, I believe in ghosts.
I see them. I hear them.
And I can exorcise them.
We're simpatico.
I could help you get rid of 'em for good.
Really?
Who else you gonna call?
Ladies and gentlemen,
let's all stand for the national anthem.
"Southside Kid Finally Takes a Stand."
Boom.
Man, let me ask you something.
Who's your kid's guardian?
You, I think.
No. I'm just kidding.
It's, uh, some Bible-thumping aunt on Cami's side.
Oh, and you're okay with that?
I mean, it not being someone in your own family?
You've clearly never met my family.
Guardian stuff's up to the mother anyway.
Everything is.
Sooner you accept that, the better your life will be.
Remote control, up to her.
Temperature of every room, up to her.
Your balls, up to her.
Oh.
Yo. What's up?
Hey. The new daycare wouldn't take Fred.
What?
The daycare wouldn't take Fred because of his rash.
Oh. Is that right?
Well, not his rash,
but because of his stupid rash, they took his temperature,
and it's point-two degrees higher than it should be,
so they sent him home.
Okay. Where are you now?
Uh, I'm almost home.
Aunt Oopie is meeting me there, and then, hopefully,
I will still make it to work on time.
Oh, your-your-your aunt I've never met?
She's available.
You know, you can meet her when you get home.
Oh, and can you pick up some baby aspirin?
Mwah.
Ah, f... uck me.
We're getting close.
Oh, Frank.
I'm in a cold sweat.
Let's talk about these spirits for a second.
Uh, can you see them, or are they more of a presence?
A presence.
Like a cold hand on my neck.
Okay. Right here.
It's the worst when I'm in bed.
They hover over me.
Oh, God.
Fr...
I-I-I...
I can't do this.
Give me your hand.
It's like our black president said,
"Yes, we can."
Come on.
Come on. Come on.
It's just a house.
A very expensive house, but nothing we can't handle.
Let's start
with the scotch-collection room and go from there.
Which way?
Up the stairs.
Uh, for whatever it's worth,
my spidey sense is really not picking up any spirits.
Right?
No ghosts in here, right?
I can't.
I literally can't go up the stairs, Frank.
Faye, take my hand.
I want you to really hear what I'm about to tell you.
I've got you.
And you're safe with me.
Aw.
Is that you?
Yes.
At high-school graduation...
right before everything changed forever...
when my life still had promise.
- You're late. Grab an AK.
- What's up, Mickey? - Hey, the large file
works best on serial numbers.
Yo, I heard about that bitch PO going down.
Yeah, who's the lucky parolee that gets that trophy?
I bet he's loving life right now.
Why you make me ask you twice?
Sit. File.
I'm not really here to work, Pops.
"Not here to work," he says.
You helped us move 'em last night.
- Now you got cold feet? - No. I just...
I need advice, actually.
- What the fuck? - Yeah, I know.
Look, I'm pretty sure Ian popped that PO.
Who's Ian?
Fuck you, man. Don't start with that shit.
Hey, I'm just fucking with you.
No way in hell that little gay carrot boy shot her.
No. She didn't get shot.
She got... pushed out a window.
Did he tell you he did it?
In so many words, yeah.
Shit. Were you wearing a wire?
Anyone else hear the conversation?
No. Look, cops want us to come in and answer questions.
Fuck! All right. Go get packed.
George, call Benny. Tell him to get the van.
We got to take some cargo to Canada.
No. No. I'm not running. I need to protect him.
What are my options here?
Oh, you want options?
He wants options.
- God damn it!
You're a Milkovich.
Cops gonna pin this on you so fast,
you'll be back in the pen
before lights out in cellblock C.
Nothing else you can do but run.
Oh, unless you got married.
See, you can't testify against each other in court
if you're mister and mister.
Milkovich men marry vaginas, period.
He's gay, Terry.
I'm gay. People are gay. Do you want a beer?
Shut your filthy mouth.
Hey, marriage isn't about sexual orientation anyway.
We like pussy, right, Snook?
Fucking love pussy.
Can't get enough pussy.
We're both zero percent gay.
Yeah, we're not even prison gay.
But technically,
we've been legally married for what, George?
- Nine years? - Yeah.
Thirteen federal court hearings.
Never testified against each other once.
H-hold on. So you're saying that
if Ian and I get married,
then anything that happens between us is a secret?
You marry someone with a cock,
I will bludgeon you dead in your sleep.
Good talk, Dad. Thanks.
Product conviction. That is what it is about.
You have got to have conviction in your product.
Equals sales, equals profit, equals new Mercedes.
I don't sell Escargold.
Escargold sells itself.
I get to sit back and wax my 'Cedes with an Hermes scarf.
Mm!
Kev knows what I'm talking about.
- Kev knows!
Can you talk some more about the marketing tiers?
What exactly is that?
Multitier marketing.
It's like— You know what it's like, Kev?
Sports.
I'm the captain of my team,
and I want you two to play for me
because you're gonna be great players.
MVPs. Top-draw producers. Okay?
So I'm gonna take a little percentage
of your sales off the top because I recruited you.
- Mm-hmm. - But once you are up
and running and you have
quadrupled your initial investment—
Which takes how long?
Six months if you've got hustle.
You good with Insta? Snap? Twitter?
So good.
So what's your capital investment?
Because for 2,500,
we can get your inventory set up, and we can play ball.
We have 825.
For 825,
we can get your inventory set up, and we can play ball.
So why don't you two follow me out to my 'Cedes?
And we are gonna load you up.
I still don't know what the product is.
- What is Escargold? - Yeah. What does it do?
Now, I know what you're thinking
"This is just some Korean skincare fad."
And the answer is no.
Escargold eyepatches minimize wrinkles
and de-puff eyes.
Using a special ingredient—
snail mucus.
Snail? Like slugs?
No.
Snail like expensive.
- Mm-hmm. - Very rare.
They're really popular all over Europe
and parts of France, guys.
They really do work.
Ingredients are all-natural and organic.
Yeah, 'cause they're snails.
Free samples coming around.
Once you try it, you are sure to buy a case
for our special introductory price
of $29.99.
V, what the hell are we supposed to do again?
Make a face story on graham cracker?
Why don't you let me handle the social media?
Afternoon, sir. Name's Carl Gallagher.
I'm here to join the police academy,
dedicate my life to law enforcement,
and here is my ID that says I'm 21.
How old are you really, son?
- How old do you need me to be? - The age you actually are.
I'm 21. Just look at my ID.
Well, this says your name is Lewis McGillicutty, Carl.
Born 1947.
But this just shows how much I want it.
- Out. - Oh, come on.
How many minors do you get in here begging to join the force?
Begging to make shit money and get called a pig?
This is my calling.
Punishing the oppressors of the underclass
is what I'm all about.
I have three skills to offer you, sir
I like to choke things, I'm good with weapons,
and I got a buttload of rage in my heart.
Hey, Cody. Come on out.
What?
Now, it's not exactly the academy, Carl,
but it might be up your alley.
Uh, this is Carl—I think he'd be a great candidate
for the kids thing that we do. What are we calling it—
what the hell you talking about?
The youth thing we do for—
uh, mentorship for the teenagers.
Oh, we're still doing that bullshit?
It's called the Youth Committee
to Investigate Youthful Comm— uh, something like that.
Yeah, that's it.
And it's for students who are interested
in a career in law enforcement.
I'm interested. What does it entail, sir?
Eh, not much, just a couple hours after school every week.
Um...
there's usually a flash grenade demonstration at some point.
Flash grenades? What about real grenades?
Oh, he's gonna fit right in.
In today's segment
- of "Snowflake Central"...
we focus on the latest victim of the liberal agenda—
an elementary-school gun show.
Dallas resident Sandra Benson
was looking forward to sharing...
Hey.
Hi, hi, hi, hi.
a fourth grader who couldn't wait...
Uh, hello?
Oh, hello. Aunt Oopie here.
- Hey. - Not gonna call you Lip.
Hope that's okay.
Gonna call you by your lovely God-given name, Phillip.
Okay.
- After the prophet. - Right.
Oopie Tamietti at your service.
Is that O-O-O-pie?
No, it's Oopie. Like "loopy."
Okay.
Uh, well, thank you—
thanks for watching Fred for us, you know?
Honestly, I'm just so happy to be able to spend time
with that creamy little Alfredo sauce!
- Yeah. - He's the best baby on Earth.
He is.
Um, has he been resting long?
- I'd say about 40 minutes. - Okay.
Uh, so I did two loads of laundry,
- caught up on my Hannity... - I saw that.
roasted a chicken for supper, and made sweet rolls.
Do you like sweet rolls, Phillip?
Come on. Sit down.
You've had a long day at work, I'm sure.
Have a seat.
So listen, I have to insist
that Fred not go back to that filthy daycare center.
Oh.
Because why would he, when Aunt Oopie is free?
Yeah, I just—Tami and I, we should really, uh,
- maybe discuss— - Here. Try this.
You're gonna love it, Phillip.
- Am I right?
- Am I right or am I right? - Mmm.
Yeah, you're—you're right.
That's delicious.
Here we are...
the master bedroom.
This is full of promise.
Jesus H Christ in Heaven, my Lord,
thank You for this gift
- of daily stuff.
He organized them by year and distillery.
His lifelong passion.
This one...
- looks really old.
This is the scary room?
There's nothing in here. A bed and some air.
That's 'cause you're not on the bed.
- That's where they torment. - Uh...
Cheers, to us.
This bed?
Nothing here.
I'll take another one, doll.
That's 'cause you have to lie on the bed.
- Ah. - Close your eyes.
You'll see.
Mm.
Eh?
- Now lay very still. - Okay.
- Don't move a muscle.
Eyes shut tight.
And listen.
- You hear that? - Mm-hmm.
I think you may have scared the spirits away.
Do you like to play, Frank?
Mm-hmm.
Then let's play.
Open your eyes.
What?
Boo!
Whoo!
Todd! Todd! Todd! Todd!
- You're Todd's manager, right? - Guilty.
His kneeling photo is blowing up.
120,000 likes already.
And Jay-Z commented, "We're past this."
Your guy is famous.
Well, it's easy to represent
someone who takes such a strong stand.
What are you doing after the game?
Excuse me, ladies.
Business calls.
Dude, you're trending.
Time to decide what you took a knee for.
- Huh? - Lots of options.
Race, Trump, being poor,
bad food in schools, kids with leukemia.
Got to pick.
I was just fixing my shoes.
You want sponsorships or not?
Thanks.
Thanks for meeting up with me.
No problem. Let me just take my Plan B.
Totally screwed the pooch last night.
A guy I boned was legit poor.
Like, works at goddamn Macy's
and is not even associate manager.
His tie had a snipped-in-half label on the back.
Fuck my life.
How about you? How'd you make out?
Yeah. So that's what I wanted to talk to you about.
I think I might be a prostitute.
Yas, queen!
So I didn't go off with that old rich guy last night.
I met someone else. Her name is Claudia.
We went up to her room and hooked up,
and now she's buying me dresses and giving me cash
and gonna take me to a nice dinner.
I'm really conflicted.
You hit the jackpot.
Or...
the mother lode.
Get it?
You don't think it's a little slutty?
Having a sugar mama? Fuck, no.
It is a true unicorn.
You got no dusty dicks. No dangling balls.
You get actual orgasms all night.
You ride her
all the way to a college fund for Franny, girl.
I look like a rabid raccoon.
My eyes!
The pain comes in waves!
Your snail piss burned our skin off!
Fuck!
This sucks!
We hear your concerns.
Obviously, we have the same concerns
about our product as you do.
Aloe gel coming around.
Put it on the burned area with our deep apologies.
You need to call that bitch back again.
We got to return this shit and get our money back.
I have called her 20 times.
She keeps sending us to voice mail.
Give me the phone—I know how to get her coward ass here.
"Girl, we need more product. Sold out inventory."
Smiley face emoji.
She's coming right over.
Uh, you know, we usually just kind of all grab something
and eat clustered around the sink.
Well, that's a bunch of crazy.
You want to keep this great country of ours great,
it starts at the home,
with prayers to our Lord Jesus
- and three square meals a day.
- Hello! - Hey!
- Hi. Oopie!
Little Tami! Oh, my goodness.
I love this baby so much.
And this man of yours—
a fixer-upper, for sure...
but that house has good bones.
Well, thank you so much for coming
on such short notice, Aunt Oopie.
Of course, honeybun. Now, let's see.
Fred has probably got another hour or so
before I wake him up for supper.
- Okay. - I can do bath time.
So why don't you two go have a date?
Aunt Oopie's got everything covered here.
- Date? - A date?
Yeah. Or a nap or just an adult conversation.
Go on, now.
I'm gonna teach Fred and that little colored boy
about the Gettysburg Address after supper.
I'm sorry. Wha-what was that part?
- A date. - She just—
- A date. - No, I heard—
That's great. Thanks, Aunt Oopie.
Go on, now. Enjoy yourselves.
- No, see, the other part— - It's good to go out
and participate in the economy
so we don't have to give handouts
to those welfare cheats and...
- Okay! - ... illegal immigrants.
- Yeah. I just— - All right. Bye.
Please. Come on.
- Have fun.
Hey.
- Hey.
Thanks for meeting me.
Yeah. Sure thing, Formal.
Let's order. I'm fucking starving.
You, uh, get your new PO assignment?
I'm back with Larry fucking Seaver—
I think we should get married.
What?
We should get married.
Then we can't testify against each other...
in a court of law.
You know, in case one of us, uh...
had something on the other.
It's called spousal privilege.
Yeah. Yeah. I, uh, heard of it.
It's for both of our protection, you know?
Just help us keep things clean,
help us toe the line a little bit.
So what are you thinking?
I think staying out of jail's a crap reason to get married.
No. We fucking love each other.
That's why we're gonna get married.
The legal stuff, it's just... bonus.
I mean, this is marriage, though, man.
It's kind of a... big step, don't you think?
I love you.
And...
and I trust you.
Do you love and trust me, too?
- Jesus Christ.
Okay.
So maybe this decision isn't that hard.
Jesus Christ.
You proposing to me over fucking patty melts?
Yeah. I guess I am.
So what do you say? You want to fit it in?
Fuck it. I do.
There he is. The slayer!
- Way to slay.
I got you six more cases, you killer.
Well, psych! 'Cause we don't want any more.
You burned our customers' faces off.
Look at 'em. Like a bunch of linebackers.
We want a full refund, and we want it now.
You know, as I always tell my teammates,
a life in sales means good days and bad.
Sometimes your products
are just gonna fly off the shelves, and other times—
Oh, cut the shit, Tessa.
Our eyes feel like liquid molten lava.
Eight hundred and twenty-five dollars, now.
Look, I really want to give you guys your money back,
but the thing is,
my hands are tied.
There are absolutely no refunds of Escargold.
It is a firm company policy.
And you two did...
e-sign the agreement.
What the fuck are we gonna do with nine cases of slug burn?
I don't know. Be inventive.
Here we go.
These are the Youths Discovering Leadership Laws
or whatever.
Youths! This is Carl.
Whoa.
What the shit is this?
Our youth leader program.
Uh, that's Wilder,
Hemingway,
Penelope, Hunter—
- Stop.
These are our future police?
Mm, doubt it.
Uh, most do it for their college applications.
They put it next to ski club, yearbook committee..
- Oh, no, no, no. - ... Habitat for Humanity—
Who's in charge here?
Well, we had a lieutenant running things for a while,
but he's out recovering from a heart attack.
So, for now, they're kind of on their own.
Just give me 24 hours with them, sir.
I'll whip 'em into shape.
Hey, uh, I don't think we're supposed to...
Hold up. I got a link from Larry.
In what now appears
to have been a lover's quarrel,
Michelle "Shelly" Demeter has been arrested and charged
for the aggravated murder of Paula Bitterman.
What the fuck?
An eyewitness account has confirmed that Demeter...
Wait. Is that the lady from the ambulance company?
Bitterman was just 47 years old.
You didn't kill Paula.
I told you I didn't. I thought you killed Paula.
Told you I didn't.
But you kept talking about how you wanted her dead.
You said you wanted her dead, too,
and then you were with your fucking dad all night.
Doesn't mean I just went and murdered somebody.
I just got out of prison.
I just got out of prison, too.
Mr. Gallagher and Mr. Milkovich?
Mr. Gallagher and Mr. Milkovich.
- Yeah. - Yeah, yeah.
Okay, everybody, time to think outside the snail box.
What could we use these guys for?
What secret use do they have?
Garbage can liner.
For a 10% cut of our total sales,
what else could these little gold bitches be used for?
All right? Best idea wins.
Come on, guys. Be creative.
They're small and sparkly.
They reduce puffiness and cause burning.
Mm, might work for herpes.
I hear herpes. Do I have a counter?
Well, if you put 16 of them on your chest,
it'll help you quit smoking.
- Okay, good. - Glue stick.
- Paint thinner. - Just smoke the shit.
Cure for snoring, 'cause your nose is burned off.
I like it, yeah. What else?
What's the main ingredient in 'em?
Uh, Korean, Korean, Korean, and caffeine.
Caffeine?
That's the main ingredient in Preparation H.
Not that I know anything about hemorrhoids,
because I do not.
I can't believe you thought I did it!
I can't believe you thought I did it.
I'm not the one fucking prone to murder here.
"Prone to m—"
Name me one person I've murdered!
Is this the only reason you proposed to me?
- No. - It is.
'Cause you thought I was fucking guilty.
There's plenty of fucking reasons.
But, yeah, I'd say it came up today
'cause not testifying against you is
a pretty big plus, Mickey.
So, uh, Misters Gallagher and Milkovich,
um, shall I proceed with the marriage license application?
Yeah, please, proceed.
Okay, great.
So, Mr. Milkovich, if you could just sign
right on that line there.
And now, Mr. Gallagher.
- Just sign... - Yep.
Yep, right on that line right there.
That's good.
Mr. Gallagher?
- You're fucking kidding. - Can we just talk for—
Fuck.
Hey, can we have our paperwork back, please?
Sorry, sorry to waste your time.
Hey, Mickey!
Hey.
Oh, did the silk dress not fit?
Uh...
Look, Claudia, I really like free gifts and free money—
Oh, good, because I have one more thing
I'd like you to have.
What's this?
Just open it.
It's a luggage tag.
You put your name and address on there,
and then you attach it to your luggage,
which you should pack, because...
We're going on a girls' trip to Kennebunkport.
Beach weekend.
I don't even own a suitcase.
But even if I did, it's hard for me to accept this from you.
It's all making me feel like a prostitute.
Oh, God, uh, come here. Sit down.
I am—I am so, so sorry.
Uh, that was not my intention at all.
I-I mean, yes, I did think you were a prostitute
when I picked you up on Ho Corner,
but I see now that you are much more than that.
Uh...
You make me feel
all flustered and tongue-tied and—
I am sorry about the gifts.
The truth is, it's the only way I know how to show affection.
I am working on it with my therapist
because my father was a withholding narcissist,
but, truly, I am sorry.
No.
Hey, I-I'm sorry, too.
I can see you were just trying to be nice.
And trust me, I'm fucked up, too.
I see your withholding narcissist parent
and raise you a set of drug-addicted alcoholics.
Let's have a true do-over.
We could even go dutch on dinner.
Does dutch mean that you'll pay?
'Cause I doubt I could afford anything at this restaurant.
Do you remember Kyle Holmes, Frank?
What? Where am I?
Why does my head hurt?
I drugged your scotch.
That's Holmes, Frank.
H-O-L-M-E-S.
What?
Do you remember Kyle Holmes, Frank?
Why am I handcuffed? What the hell is this?
Kyle Holmes was my fiancé...
when my life was full of promise.
We were gonna get married...
until you ruined it.
Who are you? Who is this Kyle guy?
You know what you did!
I don't! I swear.
Summer of 1995.
It doesn't ring a bell?
Let's see if we can jog your memory.
It is an epidemic that we are facing in this country.
Street drugs, like crack,
ensnaring young American boys like you,
from good American families.
That is why there is a war on drugs in this country.
Is that him?
That's you, asshole.
Instead of punishing this poor man,
the victim, who was seduced
into using illegal street drugs,
we're gonna punish the hoodlums, the miscreants
for perpetuating this dark epidemic.
Frank Gallagher,
this court reduces your charge to a misdemeanor,
and you are sentenced to 30 days in rehab.
Thank you, Your Honor.
You have a good day now.
As for you, the deviant thug
that tried to rob and steal
this bright young man's future,
you are hereby sentenced to 45 years
for drug possession of crack cocaine.
Society's gonna be a lot safer
without you super predators out on the streets.
Twenty-four years he's been rotting in prison,
his entire adult life behind bars.
I-I-I mean, that's very unfortunate.
The '90s were a racist time.
But this feels like a "not me" problem.
This feels like a "not you" problem?
- You really don't remember. - I don't remember!
Look, admittedly, I was on crack at the time.
- Ouch.
I'm going to the hardware store for supplies.
Why don't you watch the video a few dozen more times?
- It's on a loop. - It is an epidemic...
What kind of supplies?
The kind that might make you remember.
Wait, no, can't we—
ensnaring young American boys like you.
All right, flashlights.
- Check. - Walkie-talkies.
Check.
- Tire irons! - Check.
- Tasers. - Check.
- Chains. - Check.
Do we have to keep saying "check" every time?
Because my throat's getting dry—
Sorry, sir.
- Gloves. - Check.
- Roll of coins. - Check.
- Map of the South Side. - Check.
All right, let's review.
You, you're gonna take half the platoon due west.
Your mission— police this neighborhood
between point A and B.
I will take the other half due east.
We meet back at Camp Carl at 0600.
If someone fucks with you, you fuck back!
You will not sleep,
you will not eat until your zones are secure.
Am I clear?
- Yes, Carl! - Good.
Head on swivel. Radios on.
On my command, move out.
Go, go, go, go!
Hi, there. I'm Kevin at the Alibi.
Hi. I'm Veronica at the Alibi.
And we struggle with hemorrhoids.
Shh, Kev, that's embarrassing.
Why, there's nothing to be embarrassed about, V,
not when there's such an affordable and easy way
to cure hemorrhoids, for a very low introductory price
at the Alibi on the South Side.
That's right, Escargold Butt Patches.
Safe and easy to use.
You just rip open the package
and put 'em on your butt crack.
Wow, that is so easy. But does it work, Kev?
Why, yes, Veronica, it does.
Just listen to some of our happy customer's testimonials.
I used to have hemorrhoids. Now I don't.
Thanks, Escargold Butt Patches!
So come see us at the Alibi.
Your butt will thank you.
- Okay.
Posted!
How long you think before
people will come through the door?
Oh, that door is gonna bust open any second now.
Here we go.
- Shot? - Sure.
Any second now.
I guess not.
Well, fuck, we tried.
Ladies and gentlemen,
today I take a knee
in support of the following causes—
PETA's Lobster Empathy Center,
The Cigar Rights of America,
the Asperger Pride Movement,
Parents Who Are Against Miralax,
Parents Who Are Against Spelling Bees,
and Association for Canine Spirituality.
Thanks.
Todd! Todd! Todd! Todd! Todd!
Mickey, come on, hold up.
Leave me alone, Gallagher.
It's just that I hadn't really thought
this marriage shit through.
I don't know, I didn't think we were gonna be
having this fucking conversation today.
Then why the fuck did you bring it up?
The whole thing was your fucking idea!
- You talked me into this shit! - I know!
I know!
Frank and Monica aren't exactly
the fucking picture of marital bliss, okay?
I don't really have a frame of reference
to connect this shit to.
- Oh, poor fucking you. - It's not personal.
- It's fine, it's fine. - It's not personal.
Mickey, I love you!
It's—it's marriage that I don't know if I love, you know?
Maybe, I-I— I don't know.
But you're right, it is—it is really fucking important,
so can we just talk about it for one second, please?
I—
I want to know how you feel, you know?
Fucking really, Mickey?
Fuck.
- Hey. - Hey.
Okay, so Aunt Oopie...
she can't be Fred's guardian, Tami.
No, yeah. I know.
She's racist as fuck.
I thought it would get more subtle with age, but...
What's with the third person?
"Aunt Oopie's here."
"Aunt Oopie baked."
I know.
She's weird and sad.
Doesn't mean that Aunt Oopie can't babysit, right?
It's not like Fred understands what she's saying.
I don't think his hearing even works yet.
What if something happens to us?
We don't have anyone to be Fred's guardian.
So nothing'll happen to us.
Make a deal right now...
neither one of us will die.
Deal.
Hey, jaywalking's illegal.
Buzz off.
You sure you want to say that to me?