You're the Worst

"Simon and Kitty stood before

"Pauline's crumbling fieldstone marker.

"Moments later, in a nearby crypt,

"Simon repeatedly plunged into Kitty,

"the sounds of their passion

"mixing with the wet summer air

and the cicadas' desperate, deafening, doomed song."

The end.

I inspired the ending!

You should put in the part about pulling out

so she doesn't have a ghost baby.

Just kidding.

I think it's perfect. I am so happy with it.

I mean, a theme that I hadn't planned on exploring

was the fallacy of the very concept

of the familial paradigm in art.

I mean, the idea still persists

that family, somehow,

automatically prescribes closeness.

Family is portrayed as

a safe harbor, but nay,

it is often the very Charybdis that yanks us to the fathoms.

But not you, buddy. Not me.

I am post-family.

You are looking, finally, at a truly free man.

Like Thoreau.

Or the Unabomber.

So...

are we okay?

Oh, my God, do we really have to do thi...?

Nope, nope, just checking.

Did you hear about this murder off Mulholland?

What?

Yeah, it was four days ago.

They found this girl.

And... oh, that is gruesome!

"Murder, She Tweeted"?

How do I not follow this account?

Her head was chopped off.

Her blood was drained?

Bloody symbols on the rocks?

Jimmy!

This happened right near our house.

It could've been me!

Can we go look?

No way!

It sounds very scary.

Jimmy.

Please?

Please. Oh.

Please?

Fine!

You creepy, creepy murder girl.

Yay!

They say, when a murder scene is fresh,

you can still smell the fear in the air.

And afterwards, we can swing by Echo Park and get paletas.

Anyway, the show's called Doug Loves Sketches,

and it's a full-time gig.

Like, this is what I'm doing for a living now.

I'm a comedy writer.

Hey, can I get some salty black sauce for this egg rice?

Yeah. Where's your food?

Oh, I only have enough left for Jimmy.

Anyway, I'm super excited,

but I'm also kind of nervous to tell Dorothy.

'Cause you're writing for an Internet show

and nobody cares about that?

She's been really low lately

and this might hurt her feelings.

So what?

Brah, she's taking that "D" on the reg;

it's her job to support you.

You got to speak up

and tell people what you want.

You are the master

of your own destiny.

Don't be a martyr.

I was a martyr.

I almost martyred my husband,

but I didn't.

You're right, Lindsay.

I should put myself first.

So,

can I have some of your breakfast sushi?

Sorry, I licked it all already.

This is gonna be so rad.

Maybe they marked where the body is

and I can lie down in it

and experience her terror.

Oh!

Oh, my God, It's so ugly.

It looks like the fox in the Nine Inch Nails video

that's being eaten by ants.

It looks like it should be screaming at an old lady

in an Aphex Twin video.

Why is its face so swollen?

Did Becca give birth directly over a beehive?

Even at an illegal baby mill, they'd be like,

"Yeah, that's okay. We're good."

Aw.

Aah! Aah!

Oh, shitsticks!

Jimmy, Five-O!

Good spotting, Goose.

Hup!

Yeah? 17 seconds. New record.

Okay.

Okay.

Page one... preliminary settlement offer.

You're supposed to write it on a piece of paper

and slide it over.

Watch.

Here's my initial offer.

This is just a drawing of a cat.

It's just a starting point.

It's called a negotiation.

Now, you go.

My initial spousal support offer is $2,000.

Accepted!

$2,000 a month, Lindsay.

I know, that's so much money.

I accept.

Negotiations are over.

You know, you have to pay for your own apartment.

Great. How much are apartments, like two hundo?

So, that's good.

No, Lindsay.

It's bad.

It's really, really bad.

I'm cucking you now.

I'm the hot wife.

I do not like this piece of paper.

I'm finally getting what I want,

and what I want

is to watch you burn.

Oh, yes.

Burn!

Okay.

Page two... 401K distributions.

Uh, hi.

Uh, Edgar Quintero.

I have a meeting with Doug. Oh, sure.

Have a seat, Mr. Benson will be right with you.

Oh, uh, hey.

What happened to the other assistant?

She died.

Mugging in broad daylight.

Fortunately, the guy she mugged is gonna be fine.

It's a joke.

It was stomach cancer. She went quick.

Hey, can I ask you a question?

Do you like your job?

It's pretty great.

It really suits my lifestyle.

I just sit around all day, answer some calls.

You're supposed to throw away your personal food

at the end of the week, but a lot of people don't.

Gwen might be done with that açaí bowl,

but Dutch isn't.

Well, would you ever give up your job for a relationship?

Whoa, uh...

Well, that is completely out of the blue.

Edgar.

Come on in.

Thanks.

What's up?

Uh, listen, Doug.

I can't do the show.

My girlfriend...

Sloppy-blowjob Dorothy?

W-What? Um...

A-Anyway, she's...

she's been going through a really tough time,

and I feel like my having this opportunity

is making her feel worse.

I see. Well, I'll be sad to see you go.

Dutch, can you get me UTA?

I need some lower level writer résumés.

I don't know, maybe I'm making a mistake.

I'm supposed to be supporting her, but really, by quitting,

I'm not standing up for my needs,

which is ultimately bad for our relationship.

So, maybe I shouldn't quit.

Oh, cool!

So, you just came into my office to not quit.

That's a pretty good use of my time.

So now I get to go to your house with a sandwich

and be like, "I don't want this sandwich."

But then say, "I want this sandwich," and then explain why?

So, I get to do that now? Sure.

That's actually a really great bit.

Get a camera, shoot it over the weekend.

I'll get Andy Richter to play the sandwich

and I'll see you on Monday.

All right.

Cool.

All right, man.

I just e-mailed Doug my letter of resignation.

What?