You're the Worst

The Assassination of Gianni Versace.

Premieres Wednesday, January 17 on FX.

FXX presents You're the Worst.

Jimmy?

Jimmy?

Hello, you.

Where are you going?

I thought you were gone.

- I was. - I thought you left.

I did. To get us...

Oh.

No, no, no, no, no. I just...

I just went to get provisions.

But I could see how you'd think, you know,

given history...

But no, silly, I'm here.

So, I was thinking maybe later

we could go for a ride

and revisit some of our favorite activities.

Get Chinese food, hit the movies.

Secret pinball arcade.

Maybe some micheladas

and "you dropped something" in the park.

Were you crying?

- I want to go. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

What? I-I didn't leave this time.

Gretchen, I didn't leave.

Just got pain au chocolat.

Exactly. You can't even get breakfast

without me thinking that you've bailed again.

I have spent my entire life

pretending that all this is a force field

that stops things from penetrating.

But no one chooses me, Jimmy!

Not in the end.

In the end, no one ever fights for me.

So, because I went to get croissants

filled with goddamn chocolate for you

and was gonna lay in bed with you,

eating chocolate for breakfast

because I wanted you to wake up

to something special and delicious,

and still you lay this shit at my feet?

Make sure you want to go here.

I have apologized!

I've waited.

I've sat idly by while you did whatever

because you were wronged by me. True.

But this goddamn vacillation, Gretchen.

Enough is enough.

I didn't do anything this time.

Yep. You're right.

You win.

See, Jimmy? You don't really need me.

Why don't you go do all that fun stuff without me.

Deep down, I think you like being alone more, anyway.

Yep, you're right. Maybe I do.

- Oh, yeah, yeah. - Oh, I get it.

Really? -I mean, if those speakers cost 20 Gs,

they better look so hot, I want to stick my dick in 'em.

Yeah.

But, like, respectfully.

So, you can put your dick in them.

See, I knew those guys at Guitar Center

had no right to kick me out.

- Maximus. - E-dawg.

We're doing nicknames now?

If so, I call Dutch Oven.

Wait. No. Can I change mine?

Sorry I missed your calls last night.

Got stuck on Skype

with a buddy who's going through a thing.

Was it Brent?

Did something happen with Snoober?

Did they run out of snow?

Nah, it's... Different guy.

Um...

did you talk to Doug?

Yeah, such a bummer that he split us up.

Bosses, right?

This is just like that movie Horrible Bosses:

very disappointing.

Hey, so, tonight, you want to check out

Pharrell's sneaker pop-up?

It's in this Mexican church that used to be a crepe restaurant.

Doug has me on a crazy deadline. I'm probs here all night.

All right, Edgar.

Cool beans. Stay frosty.

- Yeah. - Look at this one.

- Let's do it. - 20 thou?

Click your dick in it.

Oh, no.

You have dead face.

Ooh, do not sit on this couch!

Or you'll never get up.

Baby booze.

You bone a pilot again?

I slept with Jimmy last night.

What?! So, what does this mean?

Are you with Boone, or are you with Jimmy?

Gretchen, you have to stop this.

Sleeping with more than one person is wrong.

Oh, so, what are you gonna do?

Oh, who knows what's gonna happen?

We'll just have to see what the universe sends my way.

"The universe"? Who are you, Stephen Hawking?

Anyway, you can't just let things happen to you.

Ha! Olivia just texted me

it's taco night.

I guess the universe just brought me tacos.

Boone's daughter texts you?

Yeah, all the time.

Look, she dressed her Bitmoji up

to look like me. Little dummy.

This is why

you actually need to make up your mind.

Don't you see? You're her La Bamba.

That hunky dillhole

broke my dumb little heart making me think

he was gonna be my forever papa.

He promised to teach me how to swim and then, boom.

He just disappeared,

and I had to learn by watching the dog.

Is that why you shake every time you get out of the pool?

Gretchen, you have to break up with Boone

before you mess up Olivia.

This is not like all the other guys you've boned.

We're talking about a little girl's life here.

Stop worrying about a kid you met for 30 seconds

and think about me, your best friend,

and how maybe I deserve this

after a lifetime of being everyone's "hit it and quit it."

I don't know what's gonna happen with Boone

or his daughter or his cat

or his goddamn goldfish,

but, for once, Gretchen is putting herself first.

So, I'm telling you, back the hell off.

"For once"?

Oh, excuse me.

You dropped something.

Oh, you dropped something.

I did? -Yeah.

It's, uh... it's, uh, it's right back there.

What was it?

What? -What did I drop? What did it look like?

It was... bluish.

- Did I actually drop something? - Yes.

No. It's just a funny joke that...

It's funny to stop people

who are actually exercising,

trying to elongate their lives

so they can stick around for their families

and the people who need them?

And you sit here drinking in the middle of the day

and you lie to them!

That's funny to you?!

Yes.

You dropped something.

- Oh. Okay. - Pick it up.

But I don't want it anymore.

Pick it up!

- Now run. - Huh? What?

Okay, so, "pedo" means "fart."

And "pedo mojad means "fart with sauce."

Now, "Tu madre es una puta"

means, uh...

Well, it means that your mother works at night.

¿Tu madre es una puta?

You got it.

Hello?

Hello. It's me, Lindsay.

Taco night!

I'm so excited. I brought "Patron"

and some limes for margaritas.

Lindsay, I didn't know you were coming. - What?

I'm morgue-ified. Gretchen, you forgot you invited me, you spaz.

No sweat. I'll just set another plate.

What the hell are you doing?

Making sure you don't ruin this kid.

It's bad enough she's so not cute.

She doesn't need some selfish adult

giving her abandonment issues on top of everything else.

I'm gonna set you on fire.

Try it, short-round.

Want Auntie Lindsay to show you how to do your hair

to minimize...

- help your face? - Okay.

Tacos are ready. Let's chow.

Shit, yeah! Hard shells.

- Bye, Max. - See ya. -Later.

Mmm.