This Brief Fermata

You're the Worst 5×6

Gretchen: Ground rules. Safety is mandatory. Otherwise, no limits. Location: anywhere but here and the Cheesecake Factory bathroom. That's ours. 2:01 next Sunday, it ends.
Jimmy: Have you done this before?

Lindsay: ...it's really bad. Like, Vietnam bad. Wait. Was Vietnam bad?

Gretchen: I did it! I got him! Can you imagine how exciting this would be if he were actually good?

Lindsay: Struggling actors are the best. They have so much to prove...

Gretchen: I have this gross feeling. Maybe I'm actually fulfilled by my job. Like, maybe it's not just someplace for me to go to nap under my desk anymore.

Jimmy: I'm abstaining, because I've already participated in Fuck Week. I just did it before the official kickoff.
Edgar: What do you mean?
Jimmy: Well, having received... underwhelming fellatio from a florist, I've contrived this brief fermata in our carnal fealty to allow Gretchen to get even. Without her ever knowing that there was a connubial imbalance in the first place.

Gretchen: You're so cool, Jimmy. I can't wait to marry you.

Gretchen: I'm happy being with just you. And I'm not even lying to myself, which, if I'm not lying to someone else is usually the case...

Gretchen: No. I'm impressed.
Jimmy: You are?!
Gretchen: Makes me feel better to know you're as big of a dishonest, disgusting fucking liar as I am.

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