Shameless

I'll tell you this one time what you missed on Shameless.

Next time, I'm gonna break both of your fucking kneecaps.

Okay?

Okay. This is what you fucking missed.

I slept with my ex.

- Since we've been married? - Yesterday.

My class schedule didn't come through.

The registrar said my financial aid pack was incomplete.

Forms should have been sent to your house

at the beginning of summer-- registered mail.

I just had to take out a $5,000 cash advance

because nobody told me about these goddamn fucking papers.

Hi, we're here to see Ian Gallagher.

This place is already wigging me the fuck out.

There he is. And look who's here.

- Just the sedation. - I'm, uh-- I'm gonna go.

Where the fuck is everybody?

- Kev and I are separating. - What?

The only thing he cares about is the damn babies.

- She's living upstairs. - You moved out?

No. Maybe.

I no longer live in Milkovich house.

I stay here now.

- What the hell? - My proposition includes

cook, clean, and wifely duty.

Duty? This isn't right.

Oh, no. No. Oh! Oh.

Consider it like rent check.

Get out of my house, Frank.

Frank, if you don't get out right now,

I will shoot you.

You don't have the guts.

Ouch! Ooh.

- I love you, daddy. - Yeah. I love you too, Sammi.

Okay.

Rise and shine!

Ian's coming home from the cuckoo's nest this morning.

So let's all make a little effort to make him feel welcome.

Yes, dear. Good thinking.

Breakfast in five.

- My mom shot you. - Yes, she did.

I don't get why just don't use her face for target practice.

Because prison is no place for a man

with naturally tight glutes.

Skank bitch did it to you. It'd just be self-defense.

Not after the fact. And, son, it's important

to know the difference between a skank bitch

and a deranged psychopath.

Your sister Sammi is the latter.

So?

So, when you have a skank bitch

in your house, you stand up to her.

You push back. Eventually she leaves.

But with a psychopath, you have to take a different approach.

But in the end, she will crawl back

to the syphilis-ridden gutter from whence she came,

and I will reclaim my bedroom and my life.

She started the war, but I'll win it.

War! Boom, boom, boom!

That's right, my little eggplant.

Boom, boom, boom. Boom, indeed.

Whatever. I'm out.

Off to deal drugs on a Saturday morning?

- Yep. - Impressive work ethic, son.

You do your old man proud.

What?

It's Muff. Is Amanda in there?

- No. - Bullshit.

Tell her I'm not fucking leaving till she faces me.

Turns out lesbians are super possessive.

I fucking love you, Amanda.

I fucking love you, you bitch!

I let her go down on me, like, twice,

and now she thinks we're married.

Right. So what do you want to do?

'Cause I have to pick up my brother in a few minutes.

Amanda, come out here and face me!

I'll let you borrow my car if I can hide under your bed.

Yeah, done.

Hang on. I haven't come yet.

- Right. - Be quiet, though.

I fucking love you.

Easy, killer.

Whose face are you picturing on that bag?

- Monica. - Who's that?

- My mother. - Mother?

I thought she was dead.

Not dead, just gone.

She stayed around long enough to ruin our lives

and pass on all her fucked up genes.

You're worried about your brother?

You know what?

Maybe he'll still be okay,

'cause, you know, my dad's got hemorrhoids,

and I got 'em too, but way less bad.

You're awesome.

Motherfucker!

Stop!

- 'Sup, G-Dogg? - "'Sup"?

Boy, you been blessed with an education.

Try to sound like it.

What is up?

Try "Good morning, sir."

- Good morning, sir. - Good morning, Carl.

And congratulations. You just got a promotion.

- I did? - Look, one of my runners took

a bullet this morning, so I need you to take a run

for me this afternoon.

A run? To where?

Flint, Michigan.

- Hey. - Hey.

I can't believe we're back here.

I know.

It makes me want to throw up.

Yeah.

Are you still married?

I think so.

I'm not sure. Gus is silent.

And you know how good I do

with silence.

Right. Yeah.

Silence in our house usually means

someone stopped breathing.

Exactly.

Anyway, he's going on tour for a while, so...

I don't know. Maybe it's a good thing.

You figure out tuition?

No.

No, I got an idea, though.

Is it an idea that could land you in jail?

You're here for Ian Gallagher?

Yeah.

Come with me.

I thought Mickey would be here.

Yeah? I didn't.

Bipolar one, acute mania with psychotic features.

- This means-- - No, we know what it means.

Can we take him home?

I understand that there's a family history,

and that this diagnosis is difficult to hear,

but I do need to go over a few specifics as regards to Ian.

He's resisting his diagnosis.

We had to make med-compliance a requirement for his release.

All right, so what, you're saying we need to hold him down

and make him take his meds?

Well, I'm saying that

it will take his meds about two weeks to really start working.

Until then, yes, I am suggesting he be carefully supervised.

I'm giving you a one-week supply of antipsychotics,

mood stabilizers and sedatives.

He needs to take one pill from each bottle,

with food, three times a day.

You have a week to get him to a psychiatrist

if he's insured and--

Or a clinic if he's not, which he's not.

We know the drill.

Don't be surprised if he mostly sleeps

until his meds are properly balanced.

Ian should be here shortly.

Good luck.

Fuck.

Yeah.

Hey. Hi, baby.

You ready?

- Hey, what's up, Gina? - Morning, Kev.

I hear you got some kind of--

Yeah, I've been wanting to talk

about these working conditions.

- Ow! - Hold still.

- Ooh. - Ugh.

I think it's infected.

We have to take you back to the ER.

I still don't understand why you shot him, mama.

Because, Chuckie, fatherhood comes with responsibilities

that go far beyond shooting sperm into a V hole.

And I have decided it's time to teach your grandfather

those responsibilities,

because, clearly, he never learned them.

He's like an untrained dog who keeps shitting

all over the house, so we have three options--

run the dog over, send the dog back to the pound to be gassed,

or train the dog.

And I am choosing to train this dog.

Isn't that the option you prefer, daddy?

Yes, it is, dear, and I really appreciate

you taking such good care of me.

- Hey, look who's home. - Ian!

- Hey. - Well, would you look at this.

It's like a great big family reunion.

There's more than enough food for everyone, okay?

- Ian! - Aww, look at that.

Hey, you want some coffee, Ian?

Oh, no. I'm tired. I just need to lay down for a bit.

All right.

He's totally Monica.

Without the great ass.

He's just overmedicated for now, Debs.

Don't worry. I'm moving back in for a little while.