My Name Is Earl

You know that guy you see going into the convenience store...

when you stop off in that little town on the way to Grandma's house?

Sort of shifty lookin' fella who buys a pack of smokes, a couple lotto scratchers...

and a tallboy at 10:00 in the mornin'?

The kind of guy you wait to come out before you and your family go in?

Well, that guy's me.

My name is Earl.

And if you took the time to really get to know me...

find out what kind of person I truly am instead of just stereotypin' me...

because of the way I look, well, you'd be wasting your time.

Because I'm exactly who you think I am.

Hell, I'll pretty much steal anything that isn't nailed down.

About six years ago, I was out drinkin' when I met this little firecracker.

You got great boobs, Peggy.

- Her name was not Peggy. - My name is Joy.

You got great boobs, Joy.

She kept buyin'me drinks, and later that night she drove us to Vegas.

By the time I sobered up, we were married.

The next mornin'I was recuperating from being a little... over-served.

Morning, Hubby.

Hell, when I was drinking, I just thought she had a bit of a belly.

Some people might think gettin' so drunk you accidentally marry a woman...

that's six months pregnant is a good reason to stop drinkin'.

Personally, I think it's a good reason to keep drinkin'.

Joy didn't remember much about the boy's real father, except that he drove a Ford.

So, we named him Dodge.

A few years later, we were having our first child from my own personal seed.

- The doctors already told us he was gonna come out a boy...

so we went ahead and named him.

There he was.

Earl Jr.

People ask me how I can stay with a cheatin' wife and two horrible kids that aren't mine.

I guess I just believe in the sanctity of marriage.

Besides, I'm sure just as many people ask her why she hasn't thrown out...

her good-for-nothing husband and his brother who lives on their couch.

That's Randy, the best brother anyone could ever ask for.

We usually spend our days hanging out over at Ernie's Crab Shack.

- Hey! - I got you, Earl. You're it! You're it.

That's Sonny. We play beer can tag.

Ain't no use runnin', fool! I know where your mama parks your house!

That's Darnell. He's always hooking us up...

with bowls full of stuffhe's not legally allowed to put in the crab cakes.

- Thanks, Crab Man. - No problem, Earl.

- Thank you, Darnell. - Any time, Joy.

Randy and I love the free crabmeat, and for some reason, Joy loved comin' here too.

And if we were lucky, Wanda would push B-7.

Oh, no, she didn't.

Wanda, don't tell me you pushed B-7.

Anyway, that was our life.

It wasn't glamorous or nothin', but it was regular enough.

At least it was regular enough until three weeks ago.

Son of a bitch.

Son of a bitch! hoo!

Hoo!

I'm rich! $100,000, sucker!

That was the happiest 10 seconds of my life.

As soon as I was conscious, Randy went back to look for my scratcher.

But I knew he wouldn't find it.

I would have been more upset if I wasn't so doped up.

- Hey, baby. - Hey there. Sign these next to the sticky little yellow things.

Okeydokey.

Earl J. Hickey.

- Hey, Crab Man. - Hey, Earl.

Darnell's parents threw him out for growing weed in his closet, so he's moving in.

- We're thinkin' about gettin' married. - But we're married.

Not anymore we're not. Thank you for the trailer.

Trust me, Earl, this is gonna be better for everybody involved.

Earl Jr. really should be with his daddy. Feel better now, okay.

Now, I've never been much of a complainer, but lyin'in traction that night...

knowing that I no longer had a home...

no longer had a wife...

and no longer had a $ 100,000 lottery ticket...

well, I think I might have cried if I wasn't afraid of Randy waking up and seeing me.

Then it happened. I was just flipping the channels...

and... he came on.

Forget about me. I wanna know about you. I wanna know about Carson Daly.

Every time I see you, you got a beautiful woman on your arm.

You got a talk show, you got your own record company.

- What's your secret? - Well, if you must know, I'm Satan.

I don't know.

Seriously, I, I've been very blessed.

I also believe that what goes around comes around.

And that's how I try and live my life.

You do good things and good things happen to you.

You do bad things, and it'll come back to haunt you. It's karma.

Karma. There it was.

The secret oflife coming straight from Carson Daly's lips to my morphine-laced ears.

When they finally released me from the hospital, we checked into a motel.

It didn't take Randy long to make friends with the help. It never does.

How long is your break, Catalina?

The manager went to the dog track.

I'm on my own schedule for the afternoon.

Do good things and good things happen to you.

Do bad things and it'll come back to haunt you.

That's deep, Earl. So why don't you stop hogging them Vicodins they gave you...

we can all chat about that for a while.

- I'm talkin' about karma. - Who's Karma?

I don't know. Something Carson Daly came up with.

He says he does good things in life and that's why his life is so great.

Got me thinkin'. My life sucks...

and I ain't ever done anything good I can think of.

Who is this Carson Daly? Is he some sort of spiritual leader?

- A holy man? - You never seen T.R.L.?

You need to start puttin' on some of these TVs when you're cleaning the toilets.

If I want a better life, I need to be a better person.

- What's this? - I made a list of everything bad I've ever done.

- Why? - Why?

Randy, I just won $100,000 in the lottery, and was immediately hit by a car.

I almost died because somethin' good happened to me that I didn't deserve.

That karma stuff is gonna kill me unless I make up for everything on that list.

"Number 23- peed in the back of a cop car."

I'm no longer proud of that.

"Number 41 - snatched a kid's Halloween candy...

when he came to my trailer to trick or treat."

That was wrong, and I know that now.

"Number 102- harmed and possibly killed...

innocent people with secondhand smoke."

How in the world are you gonna fix these things, Earl?

I don't know. Start with the easy ones.

Like, um, number 64-

"Picked on Kenny James."

I used to torment the hell out of that poor boy back in elementary school.

- What do you think you're gonna do about it now? - I don't know. Find him.

- Do something nice for him, and then cross him off the list. - Excuse me.

But if my boss comes back and sees there's no garbage in the parking lot...

he's gonna get used to it like that.

- So could you please put it back? - No, I can't.

Number 136- I've been a litterbug.

Well, here. Cross that one off your stupid list.

I can't cross it off the list. Not until I've picked up as much as I littered.

And my list isn't stupid either. It's my road map to a better life.

Well, I hope that road has free gas and free food...

and a van big enough for us to sleep in...

'cause we've just spent our last $45 on this room.

And I'm not cuttin' into my beer money for some stupid-ass crusade.

Son of a bitch. It's workin'.

When I went over to the lottery office, they sure made a big fuss.

Randy had an idea to get an extra 100,000 out of the deal.

- Thank you, Isetta. - But I knew it wasn't gonna work.

Can I borrow a pen?

I wanted to get started on my list as soon as possible, so my life would start gettin' better.

Hell, it was already better.

Our new friend Catalina had the day off and nothin'to do...

so Randy and I had somethin' pretty to look at.

Plus, I finally had enough money to buy somethin'I've always wanted for my car.

Which house belongs to this boy you tortured?

That's his parents' house right over there.

We don't know where Kenny lives now, but Randy'll find out.

That's four.

- I'm still thirsty. - Look, you had four.

You can have another one when you come out. Go on now.

- So, why aren't you going in? - I get nervous when I lie.

Randy's a pro, so long as he's got the right number of beers in him.

Four seems to be the magic number.

Any more and he starts to get a little bit... unpredictable.

Earl! Your brother shaved the damn cat again.

Randy hadn't been inside Kenny's parents' house since we robbed it in high school...

and all we got was a backpack full ofbirds.

So, are you visiting all of Kenny's classmates' parents?

Only the ones we've lost contact with.

You see, as class president, it's my duty to organize the reunion...

and I'd hate for anyone to miss out on all the fun.

You know, what with all that catching up and them little appetizers and all.

- Oh, isn't that sweet? - Can I get you a beer, son?

I would love a beer. Thank you.

- What are you doing? - You don't like me?

No, no. You're nice. It's just... Randy.

When you came in to give us towels, he called dibs.

Dibs.

In case you're wondering how many beers it takes for Randy to get himself into trouble...

nine seems to be the magic number.

Luckily, he got Kenny's address before he pissed off Mr.James.

I think I have Kenny's yearbook in here somewhere.

Dibs.

At first we had a little trouble finding Kenny's house.

You see, Randy wrote the address on his hand, and sweated off the last digit during his getaway.