Call Me Fitz

The way you live says a lot

about the way you're going to die.

Come on! Give me my fucking soda, you asshole!

Bottom line is this, kids.

Some people just get what they deserve.

Give me my fucking soda, you stupid asshole machine!

Then there are the schmucks

who never should have existed in the first place.

Richard, thank God I found you.

I have identified your shadowy assassin.

Be gone.

Other people die exactly as you'd expect them to.

Then there's the cockroaches,

the stubborn fucks who just keep on ticking...

No matter what.

But the best death of all,

the bonus kill,

the one that comes with a cash fucking reward.

I'm sorry.

There wasn't a thing we could do for your father.

Yeah!

Good news.

Your father's going to be fine.

Fuck.

You forgot to put an emergency contact

on Ken Fitzpatrick's admission form.

Are you family?

And who wants to know?

I'm his daughter, Meghan Fitzpatrick.

Are you're willing to act as liaison

with the hospital on his behalf?

Oh, how much does that pay?

It's not a job offer.

Well, it sounds like a lot of work to me.

And you want me to do it for free,

after what this family's put me through?

Forget it.

Let my degenerate brother take responsibility for once.

Yeah, I'd love to help you out, honey,

but I just called a cab.

And if you ever want a ride,

you call Uncle Fitzy.

Ring, a-ding, ding.

Ma'am, I would be more than happy

to be put down as Mr. Fitzpatrick's next of kin.

You're related?

Well, technically, yes,

as I am the living embodiment of Richard's conscience.

There- Psych Ward is on five.

Really, Larry?

Does that shit ever fly?

One day it might.

Fuck, it smells like death in here.

Well, it's the proximity of the shadowy figure.

And by my estimation, Richard, she is wearing support hose.

That's right. I found that fortune teller.

And you now what she said?

Closer than you think.

Paging Dr. Ass-tard.

Your mouth is on line one and it wants you to shut the fuck up!

Okay, you can see him now.

Fuck. I'm dead.

No!

Oh, thank Christ.

Hey, keep it down over there!

What is this?

Some kind of back-alley peepshow?

You waited a long time to have your cancerous testicle removed.

Now with your high blood pressure

and today's cardial infraction-

Will you fucking speak English?

Surgery or bust, sunshine.

Emergency surgery?

Isn't that dangerous for an old man?

Maybe even fatal?

Yeah, there's always a risk of complications,

but tomorrow, double those odds.

Okay.

The money the old man's got socked away, plus the pension,

minus the debt, property value...

Hah.

Your bank account's the only thing

about you that's healthy, old man.

If I die, why should you get a hot nickel?

Because I've been putting up- Yeah, what about me?

What do I get?

Both of you need to get in line.

Technically, we are still married.

Huh? What?

Maybe Mama forgot to file the papers.

And enough of this death talk, baby.

You're not going anywhere.

You're as strong as an ox.

Especially those balls. Fuck.

Get your fucking hands off his balls,

you fucking old dragon. Excuse me, Daddy,

I did everything you said! I want my-

Excuse me, Daddy, I did everything you said.

All right, everybody! Shut the fuck up!

Tearing up the old will.

Writing a new one.

And if- When!

If I die-

Don't worry about me, sir-

You, especially, will get squat and like it.

If I die, everything goes to the disappointment

who disappointed me the least.

That's right.

Fill in that fucking blank.

I deserve that inheritance,

not Elaine, not Meghan.

Richard, call me crazy, but it's a fairly minor procedure.

In all likelihood, Ken won't even die.

Stop being so negative.

You need to concentrate on the real problem at hand here:

your mother! Yes, get rid of her.

Wait! Me?

Yes, you.

You're the one who keeps saying she's out to get me.

Keep an eye on her while I get back to work.

Only way I'm going to impress the old man

is to sell some cars.

Richard, we're in a hospital.

That's right, full of sickos who sure as hell

won't be driving themselves home.

It's the oldest scam in the book, Larry.

Find a geezer, low-ball him with a cash offer,

get him to sign on the dotted line

and ring, a-ding, ding.

Game on, Mom.

Dr. Flores, dial 182,

Oh, excuse me.

I've asked about a private room six times now, okay?

I don't want my father waking up next to some sick immigrant.

No offence.

Poor Daddy.

He must be so scared.

Scared about losing his money.

He always was a greedy bastard.

Except in the sack.

Hey, if you guys got back together,

then you would just get the money,

like as a wife and a mother,

a mother who cares about her recently divorced daughter's

need for inner-thigh liposuction.

And outer thigh too.

Basically the entire thigh area.

Have I taught you nothing?

Actually, no.

Plastic surgery, expensive trips to Hawaii,

meaningless sex, that's what rich boyfriends are for.

Rupee doesn't believe in plastic surgery,

or meaningless sex,

or being rich. Fuck him!

You see, now you're using your head.

Nothing would make your father happier

than getting rid of that flaming pile of camel shit.

Okay, well, if there's one thing I'm not doing,

it's taking relationship advice from you.

You have horrible taste in men.

I mean, Daddy? Ugh.

Oh, excuse me.

Okay, I have asked- Excuse me!

Dr. Davis, telephone, please.

Hey, you got the papers?

Yeah.

Not those papers, idiot!

The sales contracts so I can sign some new business.

Yeah, they're in the car.

Well, go fucking get them.

And whatever you do, do not tell Dot where we are.

The last thing I need is another piranha in panties

trying to oust me out of the will.

You owe me for parking.

Oh, hello.

Hello.

Tick, tock!

I got a sweet minivan with your name all over it!

Come on! Let's do this!

My final offer. You're raping me on this, you asshole.

All right, went you turn 16, you remember, "Fitzpatrick Motors."

Uh...

Ooh.

Hm, opiates.

Just go. Just go.

Richard, we need to talk.

Making an effort to impress Ken is commendable but-

Just doing what I'm best at, pal.

Well, ha, ha, second best at.

Look, the situation with your mother,

it's worse than I thought.

Always is. Elaine is many things.

She's slim, foul-mouth, dynamite in red,

but arrested for petty theft and cheap seduction?

So she's old and losing her touch.

Or she's experiencing emotion for the first time.

And not only is she going to kill you on the Beaver Moon,

she may actually enjoy it.

Will you shut up about that fucking moon already?

You need to make amends with her.