Death of a Ladies' Man

Sweet Jesus.

You asked me to get you back in 15 minutes,

I got you back in 15 minutes.

Now, it's your turn. Go find your wallet,

you'll make your flight and I'll make my hundred.

Keep the motor running.

Party's over, motherfuckers.

Jesus Christ!

- Get the fuck out. - Just get out, Jack.

- Are you sure? - Yes!

- Yeah, she is sure. - Jack, get out!

Stop it both of you! Stop it! Just get out Jack, go.

Take your fucking clothes with you.

Lovely morning, and fuck you, old man!

- Get the fuck out. - Fuck you, old man.

Fuck you.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I mean...

What can you say?

Linda, I mean, what can a person say about this?

I know, I'm sorry.

- But it's not just me. - What?

Things haven't been good, and you haven't been good,

for a long time, you have not been good.

Just listen to yourself. "I haven't been good."

In our bed, Linda. In our bed.

You've done it here, what, how many times?

With you, it's just a question of how many.

How many woman have you fucked in our bed?

Well, we both know it's true.

I know it's true, and you know it's true.

Yo! Let's go, buddy!

I don't have time for this.

- Where's my wallet? - What?

Where's my fucking wallet?

Hurry up!

It's on the dresser.

Okay.

I want a divorce.

Oh, yeah? Well, today's your lucky day, kid,

you're gonna get one.

I'm gonna be back later tonight, and I want you gone.

Well, don't worry about that

'cause I can't wait to fucking leave!

What the hell, man?

There's like, a naked guy comes running out,

then you took forever. What the hell?

Just get me out of here.

Okay, but just so you know the $100 is still mine.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay, got it.

Alright, let's do this.

Hey, Dad, sorry I'm late.

My favourite son.

And there it is. The joke that never gets old.

Man, you are totally wasted.

Mm. and I'm a little bit drunk as well.

I got something to tell you, Layton.

Marriage is over.

Linda and I are getting a divorce.

Jesus, Dad... I'm sorry.

But no big surprise, and probably for the best.

Is that it?

Ten whole seconds of sympathy for dear old Dad,

whose heart hanging out of his chest like a bag of trash?

I am sympathetic Dad. Just not very surprised.

Yeah, you know what? Neither am I, really.

Yeah.

So, to what do I owe the honour of being invited

to beautiful downtown Hamilton on a Tuesday afternoon?

Well, I'm just going to come out and say it.

I may be in love, and I'm definitely gay.

Wow.

I never expected that.

Does your mother know?

Told her last week.

And your sister?

Yeah, of course.

You're cool with this, right?

Yeah. Yeah, I'm totally cool with it.

You know, it's just a bit of a change for me.

You're still my little boy. My darling little boy

that I used to carry on my shoulders when you were

no bigger than a peanut.

Yeah.

Yeah.

To maybe being in love to definitely gay, I mean...

Jesus.

Okay.

I love you, man.

Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.

Okay. Okay, Dad. That's great.

Yeah, it's great to maybe be in love,

to be definitely gay.

Okay.

What do you keep looking at?

Nothing. Nothing.

And, you know, that's something that Linda

never really understood.

How good it is to be really in love.

Because that's all we have in the end, you know?

Love.

The heart wants what the heart wants.

Well, we really covered a lot for a little father-son chat,

but I do have to eat, game day and all.

So, what do you feel like?

The steaks here are really good.

Hey, you see number 23? That's my boy.

My beautiful boy.

Ladies and gentlemen, please give a big

Hamilton Factories welcome to Martha Richards.

And please rise, remove your hats

for the singing of our national anthem.

What the hell?

Honey, I'm home.

You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Didn't I tell you when I got home I wanted you gone?

And now, of course, here you are smoking

fucking cigarette smoking in my house,

in my fucking house, when you know fucking well

that I hate the smell of fucking cigarette smoke.

Now that's some fine language

for a college professor to be using.

What the...?

Dad?

Hello, Sam.

What are you doing here?

Well, I was having a quiet drink and a smoke?

Should I put it out?

No, no, go on. Enjoy the cancer. Can't hurt you now.

You're still dead, aren't you?

Yes, I am still dead,

and no it can't.

Nice looking place you got here.

Thanks.

You, on the other hand, you don't look so good.

I know, I know, I know.

Been going through kind of a rough patch.

Such is life.

Tell me about it.

Just wait till you shuffle off this mortal coil.

Funny you should mention old Hamlet.

He was visited by the ghost of his dead father as well.

Or was he?

Right.

Aye, there's the rub.

You're either a ghost,

or I'm even more fucked than previously believed.

Does seem that way, but there's nothing yet broken

that can't be fixed.

Now, I hear you've been having a little marital trouble.

Oh, yeah.

She met somebody she prefers fucking,

or maybe was just sick of my bullshit, if I'm being honest.

You have to be honest with ghosts, don't you?

Probably.

She probably was sick of your bullshit,

probably too young for you as well.

Thanks, Dad.

You know, I never saw a man go with so many women.

Is that a mental thing, like some with the hand-washing?

I don't know, Dad, maybe.

And you with all those pretty wives waiting at home.

Yep.

There is definitely something wrong with you, son.

That's very perceptive of you, Dad.

I mean, really perceptive.

And now that we're talking, you know, man to man,

honestly about women...

I want to ask you something.

Why...

Why did our mother leave us?

And why did she leave you?

That is the question.

It's a very good question.

Yeah? And what's the answer?

I don't know.

What do you mean you don't fucking know?

You're a ghost.

You're an all-knowing, supernatural... how can you...

Ghosts know some things, and they don't know others.

It's the same as people.

What's the point of being a ghost, if you don't things?

Hamlet's father came back, he knew loads of things.

You don't know anything worth two shits.

Do you know something? You're a terrible ghost.

A fucking awful, terrible, lame, terrible fucking ghost.

Easy.

Alright.

Alright. Let's get you to bed.

I'm not tired.

I know, love. Let's get to bed.

Does anybody have a breath mint?

I do sir.

Laura, yeah.

Oh, Certs.

I haven't seen these for a long time.

My mom loves them.

Oh, of course she does,

That's because they're two, two, two mints in one.

Sure sir, whatever you say.