Hoops

Coach, why do we have to be here?

Because our revered teacher and coach at Lenwood has died.

But trust me, boys, he was a huge asshole.

Like you, Coach?

I guess I am revered, sure.

No, the asshole part.

Who you calling asshole, big boy? Take a lap!

-It's a vigil. -Take a lap!

I recognize how tough this time is for all of us.

And so we have brought in a grief counselor

to help students get through this tragedy.

Also, please lift your candles high.

There's a fat boy running around here like a dang fool!

What constitutes a lap?

- Excuse me! -Ow! My foot!

The lawyer called and said you wouldn't sign the divorce papers.

Again!

I don't understand why we have to get lawyers involved.

-I don't wanna pay for that. -I'm paying for it.

If you could afford a lawyer, I might have stayed with you.

I don't know if you not signing these is some warped way of telling yourself

we'll get back together, but it's not gonna happen.

A man has died, Shannon.

What is wrong with you?

Show some respect, please.

Oh, there's my delivery guy.

Hey, buddy! Are you my chicken fingers?

I'm starving to death over here.

The Lord works in mysterious ways.

Big shot, if you're up there, show me something!

- -Oh, my Lord!

- -Oh, my God!

Save the chicken finger! Somebody grab that bag!

- -Oh, shit. He seemed like a good dude.

- -Uh, welcome back.

I'd like to reintroduce the grief counselor, Dr. Brooks,

who will now be available to not only talk about Mr. Singleton's passing

but also the graphic death of Kyle G.,

Coach's delivery guy who we all saw

get horrifically burned alive.

Whoo! It's a twofer.

You know what they say. When it rains...

Well, actually, rain would have helped.

So awful. That poor guy.

I know. He didn't deserve that.

But I have to admit,

it was the best smelling tragedy I've ever seen.

Well, Coach Hopkins,

I just want you to know, first and foremost,

that just because Kyle G. was your delivery driver

doesn't mean his death was your fault.

Yeah. No duh. It's his fault for being a guy with a ponytail.

A ponytail at a vigil is like walking around

with a fuse on your fucking head.

Oh...

Well, then if it's not that, what brings you in today?

Is it Mr. Singleton?

Doctor, I need to talk to someone about my wife.

She's a fucking lunatic.

Honestly, I'm here for the students.

If you're not here to talk about one of the two tragedies,

-I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. -Well, I guess you're in luck.

I can talk about that dead prick Singleton.

You see, he was my high school basketball coach.

- -All right, fellas. Good hustle out there.

I just posted the names of the guys who made the team on the locker room wall.

And if you didn't make it, don't overreact.

All it means is that your basketball dreams have died.

Yes! I'm on there! Let's go celebrate before you check for yours. You're a lock.

Where's... Where's my name?

Oh, wow! Barry Hopkins' kid didn't even make it.

Kirk, what am I gonna tell my dad?

Maybe tell him that not having a mom for you in your life

has really messed you up

and that trying to please him all the time is exhausting.

I don't know. I always use that excuse.

Ow!

Dude!

Your face got in the way of my angsty joint flick.

-Well, watch where you throw it. -Hey, it's still lit.

Oh, yeah.

I suddenly feel like listening to some god-awful, horrible shit

like Blues Traveler.

I'm sorry I got in the way of your joint. I can't win today.

Are you really that sad about a joint hitting your eyeball?

No, I don't care about the joint, and not that you'd care,

but I didn't make the basketball team, OK?

So what?

If basketball is that sport I'm thinking of, it's stupid anyways.

You don't get it. My dad is Barry Hopkins!

Runner-up for the Sixth Man of the Year in the ABA,

which basically makes him the best Seventh Man, which is a big deal!

Man, I wish I could have heard what you said

to that asshole who didn't put you on the team.

What do you mean? I didn't say anything to him.

Really? You should have let him have it.

Yellin' at people makes you feel hella better,

and saying "hella" makes any sentence sound hella cooler.

Hey, this ain't the mall!

Quit yapping so loud!

We're very sorry for the inconvenience, sir.

We should get out of here. We're being rude.

No way! Fuck that, dude.

Don't come out here shoutin' at us, you old wrinkled dick bitch!

Go inside before I mace you

and tell the cops you offered me five bucks to see my tits, Grandpa.

See?

Oh, hey. I'm Shannon, by the way.

Ben. It's nice to meet you.

You think your coach is still at school?

Go for it.

OK. Um...

While I thank you for the opportunity to compete,

I'm a little upset you didn't see my potential, Coach.

And?

And? Um...

And you're... And you're a knucklehead, and you're... and you're a piece of poo.

No, really give it to him!

And you're a real motherfucker, OK?

What did you just call me, Ben?

Don't back down.

I called you a motherfucker because...

well, because that's what you are. You're a real motherfucker.

And you might as well stay at home and fuck your mother

'cause you're probably way better at mom fuckin'

than you are at coaching!

My mother just passed away, Ben.

That's no excuse for what that asshole did to you.

Yeah, you're right.

So not only do you fuck your mom,

but now you're admitting to doing it while she's dead,

and that's fucking disgusting.

You're right, Shannon. I feel alive!

Unlike this guy's cold dead mama, whom he fucks.

Look at me! I'm on hella fire!

That was hella cool, dude!

You know what happened the next day?

You apologized to the coach for what you said about his dead mother?

What? No!

Shannon jayed me off in the photo lab, and I knew we were meant to be.

This has nothing to do with the tragedies of the last 48 hours.

Fine. But wouldn't you agree that we sound perfect for each other?

You and your wife? Yeah, sure.

So your professional medical opinion

is that I shouldn't sign the divorce papers,

and I should do anything I can to win her back with grand gestures.

Look, I don't have all the details, OK? So--

Exactly, Doc.

Gosh, I feel 20 pounds lighter,

and I don't think it's the diarrhea I've had this week.

Thank you, Doctor, and a little something for your troubles.

Hi, doctor lady. I'm Ron, the kids' favorite teacher.

I'm also sort of like a best friend to them and a shoulder to cry on,

so if I can help in any way, please let me know.

Well, thank you, Ron. That's actually very helpful.

After tragedy, it can be hard for children of any age to--

Sure, sure. I remember how fast I had to grow up.

Wait. What? Is this about the tragedies?

- -

That's the Bone Collector's stuff.

What the fuck?

The new guy doesn't wanna live too long, huh?

I'm sorry. I swear I didn't mean to.

- -Shit! We got company!

Well, let's put a pin in this while I take one out of this.

Looks like I'll have to go old school.

Can't touch this.

Grab his gun, Ron!

Gun? Pfft!

I'm on a roll!

And that's how I stay so calm now.

Well, anyhoozle,

if there's anything you need, don't be afraid to holler.

- -

Ooh, that's lunch!

It's macaroni day.

Oh, my God! Ben, what do you want?

Well, I talked to a professional therapist,

and she thinks we should still be together.

She thinks we're soul mates. Her words, not mine.

So I'm not gonna sign the papers.

Instead, based on her professional opinion,

I'm gonna win you over with grand gestures.

You're not winning shit, Ben.

Not in either court.

This is classic us.

We are not getting back together, so please stop trying!