Pilot
Season 1, Episode 1
& Tara: This is Tara, obviously. It’s Thursday, the 12th. Looks like I’ve got about... four minutes, or so... So I just want to explain where I’m at right now, while I’m still lucid*.
& Tara: I’ve been hired by the mayor’s wife to do this... She wants ... a giant wall fresco depicting herself as a pregnant saint.
& Tara: I rule. I’ve... I’ve no problem keepin’ track of a million things for my clients, but... unfortunately, I can’t seem to micro-manage my daughter’s vagina.
& Tara: A part of me wants to play hip mom and just applaude my daughter for being responsible. And the other part of me just wants to saw her up.
& Kate: So, what’s the deal, T.? Why are you here, instead of mom?
T.: Your mom is in a bad place mentally.
& Kate: How she found out?
T.: She went all CSI in that pubic bag that you call a bagpack.
Kate: Mom violated the monkey. That bitch.
T.: Total bitch!
& Kate: Are those my new skinny jeans?
T.: Don’t they make my ass look fine? Fine for forty.
& T.: Your clothes suck. Let’s go downtown. Buy a bunch of new stuff.
Kate: We don’t have any money.
T.: Well, I raided Tara’s wallet, we’re fully laminated, baby.
Kate: T.!.. This is why I love you the best out of all the alters!
& T.: Hey Marshall. What’s up, rocker?
Marshal: Mom!
T.: No. Mom keeps her ass crack in. Check, it’s T.
Marshall: I can see that now.
& T.: Jellow pudding isn’t for the children.
& Max: T. You’re back.
T.: Fuckin’A.
Max: “Fuckin’A.” That’s more respect than I’ve gotten all day. That subcontract was a real shit-head.
T.: Oops. I’m a vegetarian now, Max. I don’t eat meat. Besides, the hormones in that clock-cock can make you get a third nipple.
& T.: Charmaine, what we forget?
Charmaine: Tara and I were supposed to go a Pampered Chef party tonight in Shawny. But something tells me that my sister isn’t home tonight.
T.: My god! You’re so smart! I can’t believe you never finished massage school.
Charmaine: Who is this? I can’t remember what this one is called.
Max: That’s T., like the letter, not the hot beverage.
& Charmaine: Why can’t she just stop? I mean, it’s not even a real disease, Max.
Max: It’s real, Charmy. You grew up with her. You know better than anybody. Look, nobody’s trying to imply that you don’t have a right to be angry, you do. We’re all angry at the crazy. But... I’ve been living with this for 17 years. Married to it. You just take it to Pampered Chef parties.
& T.: Nice boner*.
Max: I don’t have one.
T.: Sure. You wanna paint my toenails? Gonna have a “Lolita” moment.
& Max: How long are you staying with us this time, T.?
T.: Are you trying to get rid of me already? God I hardly ever get to come out anymore.
Max: You come out as much as the other alters.
T.: That’s not true! Alice gets way more air time. You like her better caus’ she bakes.
& T.: I know you love me.
Max: Doesn’t feel right, sorry.
T.: Why? This is your wife’s body. Just cause I’m not her doesn’t mean we can’t hook up.
Max: We know from experience Tara wouldn’t like that.
& Max: You know that bad surprises are a trigger for her.
Kate: Everything is a trigger lately. Why can’t mom just be... maniac-depressive like all the other moms? You can’t expect me to be the perfect child all the time ’cause mom acts like a bunch of different people when she’s stressed out.
Max: She’s not acting, Katie.
& Marshall: I just saw T. going out to the shed. Is she gonna have a shed fit?
Max: I don’t know.
Marshall: Well, I don’t want the neighbors to know either. So brace yourselves with Thelonius Monk.
Kate: Why do you do that?
Marshall: So they can’t hear her. Or judge her.
& Tara: Listen. I’m sorry about... tonight. It’s pretty wacky, huh?
Marshall: It was no big woop.
Tara: How was she? T., I mean.
Marshall: She wasn’t that bad. I mean, she was only here for a couple of hours. Do you know she’s a vegetarian now?
Tara: Am I high?
& Tara: I wanna thank you for being
such a strong, supportive kid. I’m really lucky.
Marshall: We’re lucky, Mum. I mean, because of you, we get to be interesting.
& Tara: Hang on. I’m still getting used to my legs.
Max: It’s just... T. was a little feist tonight.
Tara: Now you’re all hot and bothered. You didn’t do anything, did you?
& Tara: Don’t get mad.
Max: I can’t help it. What the fuck am I supposed to do? She looks just like you.
Tara: Not exactly, right? I mean she dresses like a whore.
Max: Like a whore, sweety. The kids come hose*.
& Max: Where’s mum?
Marshall: Well, I’m not... I’m not sure if mum’s here... I mean, mom’s here, but I don’t know if mum’s... here...
Max: T.’s back?
Marshall: No, I think... maybe... Buck...
Buck: Right again, peach fest.
& Max: Hey, don’t smoke in here, okay, man?
Buck: I always smoke when I party.
Max: Well this isn’t a party.
Buck: Says you. Looks like femoral* here has been baking up a storm. Tastes homo made.
& Max: Buck, listen, Katie loves you. She’ll be thrilled to see you in the audience. Please.
Marshall: Dad, don’t appeal to his emotions, just... Let him go to murder practice.
Buck: You don’t want me to go, do you, Marcia?
& Kate: Thanks for coming to my recital. Next time I want Mum. No offense, Buck.
Buck: None taken, blonde head. I hate that PBS shit anyhow.
& Kate: It’s weird how Buck’s a lefty and none of the others are.
Max: Yeah, that is one weird thing.
-- Dict:
lucid — ясный; светлый; прозрачный
boner = an erect blood filled penis
hose = someone who is annoying, stupid, bad at anyhting
femoral — бедренный; паховый
+ on Imdb.
__ Ууууу, как у них тут всё запу
Комментариев нет:
Отправить комментарий