Big Mouth

Remember that time I tried to wash you, and you were just like wet for three days?

So wet. - Sopping wet.

Yeah, and like, so moldy?

Um, jealous much, bitch? - What?

God, I'm crushing on you so hard, Jay. I never should've left.

Huge mistake. -

All right, y'all. This is far north as I'm headin'.

Jay, let's go.

Jay, wait. The truck driver...

He uses me... - Oh God! For sex?

For lumbar support. - Huh?

And he has truck driver farts. And all he eats is Arby's and Ritalin.

Please, Jay, don't leave me.

Oh, shit. Everybody wants me.

God, this is a real Sofa's Choice.

Sophie's Choice. - What? No, it's a sofa's--

Okay, this is insane. I am a real person.

That is a pillow.

Uh, you're right. - Yeah.

Pam, I'm so sorry,

but I really like Jessi... - I see.

And I need to see where this goes.

Well... good luck, Jay.

I guess we'll always have that time in your mud room...

...when your pit bull featuring Ludacris licked your toes...

...right as we climaxed together. - That was intense.

What the fuck am I doing?

Goodbye, Pam. - Bye, Jay.

Scorpion, you take care of your mom out there.

Hey, just to be clear,

that time in the mud room, that was before we kissed.

Don't worry about it. - Since then, I've only been with you.

And my bath mat. - Oh, God!

You don't need to tell me this. - You know?

I should just read to you from my jerk off journal.

No... Jay! - January 8th,

I woke up with a boner that could cut glass.

Argh!

Neither one of them is answering texts,

and my mom says Jessi's parents are full-on freaking out.

It is weird that they're both missing.

You don't think they're together, do you? - Jessi hates Jay.

You never heard of a little thing called hate fucking?

What? - Like that show Moonlighting.

Cybill Shepherd, my college roommate, Bruce Willis.

Bruce Willis went to college?

It's a three-week program.

So it's not college. - No, it's called college.

Looks like your uniform's getting a little tight there, bud.

Ha! It must've shrunk in the dryer little.

Oh, you've blossomed, and your meat has become girthy.

And my uniform seems to have gotten bigger somehow?

Is that even possible? - You could wear it as a nightshirt.

All right. Here we go, team. Big game today.

You guys are gonna hear a lot of trash-talk out there.

Moron, shitbag.

You, Coach Steve, we're talking to you. Not the kids.

You moron shitbag. - What?

Okay, that's the pep talk. Let's go do basketball.

Andrew, I need you to gobble up those sports, big man,

because boy, oh boy, you are a big man, you boy.

Am I really that big?

Perhaps this will tell of your girth.

Ooh, tough one.

Well, it's a deeply humiliating start to the season...

...as Bridgeton Middle is getting trounced by a team with two black kids.

Ooh! No offense, Missy. - Some taken, yeah.

Damn it!

When did everyone get so tall?

When their glands released androgens and hormones,

triggering puberty related growth spurts.

Or maybe they drank a ton of milk.

That's what I did, even though I'm violently lactose intolerant.

If I just smell milk, I puke diarrhea.

Argh! - You're the man, Nick.

You're doing awesome.

Are you blind? - I mostly just see shapes.

Andrew! Get in the paint!

They're all sweaty and slimy to the touch.

Use your freakishly large body for some good!

He's like Andre the Giant with none of the charisma.

Yeah, throw some elbows, big man. - Stop calling me big man!

If you have a pair of binoculars, you may notice Nick Birch,

a squirrel of a boy dribbling the ball across half court.

Son-of-a-bitch!

Hey, Nick, don't be so hard on yourself.

You know, we may have lost by 26,

but nobody called me a name.

Hey! Coach Steve! You're a shitbag!

Okay, I jinxed it. That one's on me.

Did somebody bring a Go-Gurt in here?

...

... And the Go-Gurt burglar strikes again.

So, she emptied her piggy-bank...

...took some clothes and didn't come home last night?

Sounds like a classic run away there, ma.

Any problems in the home life there here now, ma'am?

Well, we are separating.

Because she cheated on me with a woman.

A woman who listens to me,

and doesn't have to put on PornHub to have sex.

Father uses PornHub...

...not Brazzers. - Brazzers got two Z's.

Don't write that down. - What's that have to do with our daughter?

A lot of daughters end up on Brazzers.

Jesus Christ. - Oh, Jesus!

No tears. It's a paid site.

Jesus Christ, Dumont, you gotta work on your bedside manner.

Folks, we're gonna find your dead daughter.

Question.

You got a pair of her panties for the cadaver dogs?

Where is our girl?

These pooches take a wiff of genitals,

they'll find her faster than when it's Milk-Bone day.

I sucked today. - You did great, man.

I couldn't get a shot off. I'm too small.

You smell great.

I said, I'm small, not growing. Is there something wrong with me?

No, man, you need to relax.

Maybe you should, you know...

What? - You know...

What is that? Grind fresh peppers?

No! Masturbate!

But, I like your instinct. - Oh!

I've never really done that before.

Go for it, Nick. It'll be a hoot!

You're so positive, man. I respect that about you.

Okay, let's see.

Ouch! Nick, that doesn't feel right.

You trying to give your dick an Indian burn?

It's not working.

This doesn't feel good. - Oh, you're doing great!

Twist harder and faster, and flick your balls.

Don't listen to him! - You're gonna break your dick, Nick!

Now, pull your hands apart real fast, like you're opening a telescope.

Don't you dare! - Everybody shut up!

Nick! - You're gonna cum blood!

Shut up! Whatever is supposed to be happening isn't happening.

That was legendary, Nick.

And always remember, if it's numb,

use your thumb.

Put my thumb in my urethra?

What are you gonna do?

Andrew, you've hardly touched your salami and eggs.

What's wrong? Are you worried about Jay and Jessi?

Oh, please. It's been 48 hours!

We need to move on as a community.

What this one should be worried about is his ineffectiveness as a big man.

What a waste of length. - Enough of the big man stuff, okay?

Well, you are big! I mean, look at you. You're the size of an uncle.

I'm just trying to blend in and be normal.

Normal? You're a 12-year-old with a mustache.

Marty! - Argh! Look at that thing!

I can't eat.

Is nobody gonna eat their salami and eggs?

Barbara, we gotta fix him. - Fix me?

I don't know about this, Marty. - He's too young to have a mustache.

It just seems cruel.

Whoa! What the hell are they doing? - They're waxing my lip.

Jesus! - Help, Maury.

I'm gonna call a friend of mine to take care of this.

I'll hold his head, you rip the thing off.

Bruce Willis, please. - Mom, you don't have to do this.

He's in asshole jail?

I'm sorry, Andrew...

Then how was he in the last Expendables movie?

Oh, they shot the whole movie in the jail?

Right, 'cause they're all assholes. Yeah, that makes sense.

Do it! -

No!

My boy. Look how they massacred my boy.

Mom, why would you do that?

Oh, my poor baby.

For some reason, now I'm starving.

I'll kill you. - Not if I kill you first.

Oh, you'll kill me? I'll kill you so hard.

Jay, this place is scary.

I can't believe I've been dealing Oxycotin with a liar.

Hey! Knock it off!

You're freaking out my very serious girlfriend!

Sorry about that, sir. - Sorry, sir.

Sorry I called you my girlfriend. I don't know what it is.

I just, I want to protect the shit out of you.

No, it was okay.

I weirdly kind of don't mind the idea of being your girlfriend.

If that's still what you want.

Yeah. A real life girlfriend? - Yeah, I'm alive.

Who's not a pillow? - I'm not a pillow.

Or a bath mat? - Neither of those things.

That's a good thing, right? - It should be.

Oh, yeah, I'm 40.

Wait, what? You're 13.

No, you know, in my brain, for this, I'm 40.

Okay, see, the thing is, like... - I'm a grown man.

I'm 13, so, your fantasy about being 40 kind of makes this...

No! - Like, super illegal and gross--...

No! - and I'm not interested in that.

I understand what you're saying, but you're consenting.

No, I could never give my consent to a 40-year-old man.

That's the whole point. - You're making a bigger deal out of this.