Son of a Critch (2022) s01e10 Episode Script
Misty
1
(TRUCK RUMBLES LOUDLY, HORN BLASTS)
ADULT MARK: They say breakfast
is the most important meal of the day,
but seeing how the median
age in our house was 68,
our breakfast of champions was pills.
- POP: Oh.
- (PILLS RATTLE)
Blues before yellows.
Yellows and reds before
pinks, and then whites.
No. Yellow and red, then blue.
Pink one after you eat.
- White ones are for Mark.
- (HEAVY EXHALE) Jesus.
ADULT MARK: Pop didn't
have much faith in pills.
He preferred the home
remedies he grew up with.
(BURPS AND SIGHS)
(GASPING)
Asthma's not real.
What you need is a bread poultice. Here.
ADULT MARK: Ah, the bread poultice.
Pop's answer to every ailment
from hangnail to gunshot wound.
Once hardened, it would supposedly
draw out the sickness.
(LICKS) Ooh!
Ooh, that would be lovely
with a nice cup of tea.
Hmm.
ADULT MARK: Mostly it
just ruined your shirt.
(GROSSED OUT) Eh.
They don't work by starin' at 'em.
Well, how do we know they work at all?
- 'Cause I'm still looking at your hoary mug.
- Hmm.
- Uh, Mary?
- Hmm?
Can I talk to you about
the door for a minute?
(FOOTSTEPS RECEDE)
Are you sure you don't
want me to come with ya
- to the hospital
- Oh, shh-shh-shh!
(HUSHED) I'll be fine.
Very routine operation, they said.
Besides, the boys need you here.
Look, I'm not very good
at this kinda thing, but
Come back to me in one piece.
Well, you know, minus the piece
they're gonna cut out o' ya or whatever.
I will do that.
ADULT MARK: The old man was
as smooth as sandpaper
(SMALL LAUGH)
And half as comforting.
MARY: Eat your breakfast now
so you can take your
pills that go with food.
What's going on?
Oh, it's nothin' to worry about, Mark.
I just have to go into
the hospital is all.
Oh! Can I go with you! I
love a good hospital visit.
Who're we gonna see? Mm. Doesn't matter,
I'll wear a suit either way.
No, Mark, your mother's
going in for a small surgery.
- (CUPBOARD BANGS SHUT)
- So, hey, you're lucky,
- you get to stay with me.
- MARY: (CLEARS THROAT)
Mary, somebody's got to tell the boy.
Remember, the tall
cans are for you crowd,
the short ones are for the cat, hmm?
- Are you dying?
- Oh no, Mark. No.
Don't be foolish, hmm?
POP: Well, I'm dying,
your father's dying,
the cat's dying, the whole
bloody house is dying,
but your mother will outlive us all.
- (HORN HONKS OUTSIDE)
- Taxi's here!
Wha uh, you're going right now?!
You're not even dressed!
Ah, what do I need to
be dressed for, hmm?
Only gonna to be puttin' on
a robe as soon as I get there.
Oh, Mark, you're a big boy now.
Look, you're in charge, okay?
Now you just keep an eye on
everything here while I'm gone,
and I'll come back fit as a fiddle.
Give us a hug, huh?
Yeah.
You be a good boy.
ADULT MARK: I was the
man of the house now,
but our house didn't need another man;
it needed a mom.
Hey, we've got tinned
spaghetti or purr-fect feast.
You know, with a name like that,
I am leaning purr-fect feast.
♪
♪
No.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
FOX: Wanna know your fortune?
What's the point? We're
all just gonna die anyway.
So that's a no.
What's your problem?
My mom's having surgery,
but I don't know what kind.
You're so weird. How can you
not know something like that?
They don't want me to worry,
which makes me worried.
ADULT MARK: I was used to
hospitals and even wakes,
but the thought of losing
my mother terrified me.
Not that my friends noticed.
Pick a colour.
- Uh red.
- R-e-d.
Pick a number.
- Four.
- One, two, three, four.
Now, read your fortune, dumbass.
(PAPER RUSTLES AND CRINKLES)
"You're dead." Ha! What does that mean?
If I catch you,
then you're gonna be
the one in the hospital.
Well?
(NERVOUS GRUNT) Mark!
ADULT MARK: I needed friends my own age.
- (PENSIVE EXHALE)
- I needed Pop.
(POP HUMS ALONG TO A
SEA SHANTY ON THE RADIO)
(SIZZLING)
(DOOR BANGS SHUT)
- Ugh! What stinks?
- Mm-hmm!
Supper. Ready.
(CHUCKLES TO HIMSELF)
MARK: Is that spaghetti in the cat bowl?
- Mm-hmm.
- Then what's in there?
Canmash.
- What's that?
- Well, go into the cupboard,
get all the cans I can,
and mash 'em all together. Delicious!
Ah, Mike, here. Try that.
- Ah, looks good, Pop.
- Yeah, yeah, good.
- Mm-hmm.
- (EATING SOUNDS)
(HORRIFIED GASP)
How is it? Come on, one to ten.
(EATING NOISILY) Ten.
ADULT MARK: The choices were clear:
Starvation or food poisoning.
(DISTANT SIREN WAIL APPROACHES)
Mm-hmm. All good, girl.
(RELIEVED SIGH)
My goodness, Connie, you
have got a gentle touch.
- (CHUCKLES)
- It's more like a spa
than a hospital 'round here.
Sin to say, but
Sometimes it's nice to
be away from the family.
Girl, I knows all too much about it.
I got two boys, and that's enough.
- Oh, I got the same.
- Oh, really?
Mm. Truth be told though,
the boys are not the
hard part, it's the
- The men? Hmm.
- Yes.
- I got one of them too.
- Mm
BOTH: (CHUCKLE)
Well, I suppose it'll all be okay.
The worst part is they're just
Well, there isn't anyone I can
really talk to about it at home, so
It'll be okay, believe me.
I knows all too much about it.
Yeah. Hmm.
Now you get to put
your feet up for once!
- (CART RATTLES)
- Oh my (GASPS)
Maclean's, Châtelaine, OWL -
- Mark loves that one.
- Mm-hmm.
I think I'll go with Châtelaine.
- Proper damn thing!
- Thank you.
- Want a cup o' tea?
- Oh yes, dear.
- Where's the kettle?
- Oh, no.
No, you lie down. Read your magazine.
- What?
- I'll get it for ya.
Oh!
Connie, I'm movin' in for good.
- You're welcome to it.
- (CHUCKLES)
ANNOUNCEMENT: Dr. Patterson
to the ER, please.
That's Dr. Patterson
(ROTARY PHONE DIAL RATTLES)
Pop, ya gotta take your pills!
(PILL BOTTLES RATTLE)
Hmph. Bloody drug pusher.
Uh, Mary Critch's room, please?
POP: This is what I'm after.
Mustard and bread. Can't beat it.
- MIKE SR.: Hello, Mary?
- MARY: (MUFFLED) Mark?
- What?
- Mark?
Let me have that again.
The line's very bad.
(MUFFLED) What the frig?
You go under the knife
at 9:00 A.M., you say?
- My God!
- Good God!
This line is terrible!
I'm gonna have to
call the phone company.
I mean, what the hell am I paying for?
- (INDISTINCT COMMENT)
- What does Dr. Fisher say?
ADULT MARK: Kids overhear
more than their parents think,
especially when everything
they say is shouted.
I listened to every word
for a glimmer of truth.
- A full hysterectomy?
- I was a good bit surprised.
- (INDISTINCT COMMENT)
- Now don't worry about us.
We have things well
in hand. You just rest.
(LINE GOES QUIET, PLUNGERS CLICK)
Hello?! Mary? Mary? Hello?!
- She's dead.
- (GASPS)
Uh, the line. The line's dead.
- Terrible line.
- (HANDSET CLUNKS LOUDLY)
That was your mother. She's
having a wonderful time.
(CAT MEOWS)
Cat hasn't even touched her noodles.
Puss! Puthy, Puthy, Puthy!
ADULT MARK: Misty was our cat.
She only appeared for feedings.
Like everything in our
house, she was old.
Dad loved the cat almost
as much as it hated him.
- (MISTY HISSES)
- Agh! She's a bloody lynx!
MISTY: (ANGRY MEOW)
MIKE SR.: Goddamn cat.
- Pop?
- Yes, sir.
Am I gonna have to have
a hysternmectomy one day?
Mm. Maybe.
Maybe not.
Probably not.
How do you know?
You know, sometimes a flower
loses its petals mm.
Mm
No pollen then.
Bees come buzzin' around
lookin' for this, that and the other,
but you're not gonna get stung by a bee,
'cause if they sting you,
then they have to rip
their own arse out.
And if they rip their own arse out,
well, then
They just die.
That's what's wrong with your mother.
More or less. Mm
ADULT MARK: I didn't know why
Pop needed all those pills,
but it was becoming
clear that he needed them
more than the bread poultice.
Ah, they wouldn't let
me in with flat feet.
Oh
Those bouncing bombs
Amazing.
Skip, skip, skip.
Hit the dam,
sank,
boom.
(CHUCKLES)
Ah, the bastards.
(GRUNTS)
Pop?
Did you take your pills?
Okay.
- Mm
- Night, Pop.
Mm
Good cat.
(DOG BARKS IN THE DISTANCE, BIRDS CHIRP)
- (KETTLE WHISTLES)
- RADIO: And now Mike Critch
- with the VOCM news!
- Mike! You up?
- RADIO: Were called the scene
- Your bus'll be here soon.
- RADIO: Two youths
- Mike?!
- I'm gone.
- (FRONT DOOR SHUTS)
Oh, you give and you give,
but they just don't care.
RADIO: They were disappointed
with the fried chicken
- (PILL BOTTLES RATTLE)
- Pop?!
Pop?!
Can no one answer me this morning?!
RADIO: The officers
were able to follow
Am I talking to thin air?!
- (POP GRUNTS SOFTLY)
- Pop?
Pop!
- Pop!
- (POP GRUNTS SOFTLY)
- Pop!
- (GRUNTS SOFTLY)
- (GRUNTS OF EFFORT)
- (GRUNTS SOFTLY)
(RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)
(PHONE CLATTERS, DIAL TONE DRONES)
(PANTING)
(DIAL RATTLES)
(LINE RINGS, POP GRUNTS SOFTLY)
(PHONE RINGS)
Drive safely. Arrive alive.
VOCM News. Critch speaking.
It's Pop! Come quick! It's Pop.
Pop? My God, you sound more like Mark.
This is an awfully clear line.
Gonna have to call the
phone company, let 'em know.
I am Mark! Pop's dead! Come home!
- (HANDSET SLAMS DOWN, DOOR BANGS SHUT)
- POP: Mm-hmm.
(FOOTSTEPS THUD RAPIDLY)
Oh God
You think he's dead?
No, but he's gone all yellow.
That's just the poultice.
I think he stopped taking his pills.
I'm too young to be in charge!
First Mom's gonna die, now Pop.
You shouldn't have left!
And you shouldn't have let her go!
Mark! Enough. (BREATHING RAPIDLY)
Call 9-1-1.
You think we need an ambulance?
We need two.
I'm having a heart attack.
(RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)
Don't worry, I'm getting help!
(WHEELCHAIR CREAKS)
Thank you, Connie, you're such a luv.
- (TOILET FLUSHES)
- Oh, hello, Mary.
Jesus! (GASPS) You nearly
gave me a heart attack!
(CURTAIN RATTLES BACK)
Uh, well, Mike already beat you to it.
Oh my God, are you okay?
Yes, I'm fine.
I just had a touch of a heart attack.
I got a bit startled
when I found Pop dead.
- Uh, dea
- I'm not dead!
The doctor said I've got
at least ten years left
if I stop smoking.
He put me down for five.
- When's your surgery?
- Oh.
She already had it, and
she's doing well, but
You know, this isn't
a legion bingo hall.
Can everybody please just
go back to their rooms?
It's fine, Connie, I don't mind.
Could you just give us a moment?
Okay.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER,
WHEELCHAIR CREAKS BY)
I leave you arseholes alone for 36 hours
and you wind up in the hospital?!
Who is minding the boys?
You're the one put Mark in charge.
Only good choice I made
this weekend, apparently!
Jesus this hurts! (PAINED GRUNT)
- (BLOWS OUT HER BREATH)
- This is delicious.
We should get this at home.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS, MIKE
JR. AND FRIENDS LAUGH)
MARK: Everyone we hold
dear is in hospital
and you throw a party!
Unbelievable.
There's two people.
We-we're playing cards, get lost!
Hmph! Can't get lost in
my own home now, can I?
That's what this house is, by the way,
a home.
(SIGHS)
Which we'll treat with
respect, I imagine.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)
(SIGHS HEAVILY, WRAPPERS CRINKLE)
MIKE JR.: Hey! Put that
down! It's a strobe light.
We're gonna listen to some
Floyd when it gets dark
and use it to trip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip.
FRIENDS: (LAUGH)
ADULT MARK: My brother was
practically turning our home
into an opium den.
Mark. Go.
Hmph!
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS LOUDLY)
(SIGHS) I've completely lost control.
Mike's having a party.
There's a musician here!
Cool! Can I come?
Ritchie, homework.
Ah! Mrs. Perez!
How are you, ma'am?
I'm fine, Mark.
Ritchie needs to finish his homework.
- No phone.
- 'Kay.
MIKE JR.: (YELLS) Come on!
There's the sober perspective I'm after.
Good call, Mrs. Perez.
Without a firm hand at the wheel,
it all comes crumbling down.
Thank you, Mark.
No, (CHUCKLES) thank you, Mrs. Perez.
(HANDSET CLICKS)
(HANDSET CLATTERS, MIKE
AND HIS FRIENDS LAUGH)
- (DIAL TONE DRONES)
- Hello?
- (BUSY SIGNAL BEEPS)
- (SIGHS) Still busy.
- (HANDSET CLICKS)
- My God,
I can't even enjoy an operation
to myself with you crowd.
POP: Uh, wait. Have
you got many stitches?
Because, you know, a bread
poultice will see you right.
You go away with your bay voodoo.
Mike, you think that
Dick would look in on them?
Mike is 16 years old,
and Mark is older than I am.
You're just full of comfort, aren't ya?
(SUCKS TEETH)
Jesus!
Fruit in syrup, gorgeous! 100 percent.
(TOAST POPS UP, ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)
ADULT MARK: Like Mrs.
Perez, I came to realize
that someone had to put
the "hold" in household.
It was up to me to hold the fort.
(MARK HUMS TO THE MUSIC,
MIKE'S FRIENDS SHOUT)
When it came to cooking,
I really put the boy in Chef Boyardee.
- (LOUD KNOCK AT THE DOOR)
- FRIEND: What're ya doin'?
The door? Oh, good God!
It's 6:30 at night!
MIKE JR.: Oh! I got it!
ADULT MARK: In the '80s,
certain cab companies
would deliver beer right to your door,
no questions asked.
Yes! Thank you! Keep the change.
(DOOR BANGS SHUT, BEER BOTTLES CLINK)
- You bought beer?
- Go back in the kitchen.
Good God!
(KISSES BOX, FRIEND LAUGHS)
- Let's see.
- Let's go!
I don't believe you!
You're going full Belushi on me.
It's like
The Château Marmont in here.
You don't even care about
Mom, or Dad! Or Pop
Hey, of course I'm
worried about them, but
There's nothing I can do about it.
And I'm not a bad guy, you know?
This is why no one wants
to hang out with you.
- (CAP CLATTERS)
- Try being a kid for once.
ADULT MARK: He was right.
I was driving the only family
I had left away from me.
♪
(STROBE LIGHT CLICKS ON AND WHIRS)
- Is that all it does?
- Well, I think it's cool!
Yeah!
I think it's kinda crap.
Trippy!
Trip, trip. Come on!
Come on! Trip!
ADULT MARK: Mike wanted
me to act my age,
but I had never been my age before.
Trip, trip, trip, trip!
(MARK DANCES TO THE ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
Hey, that's too close.
Who's the party pooper now, huh?
Mark, that's too close!
ADULT MARK: I don't
suppose there's a good time
to discover you're an epileptic
- (GRUNTS)
- (HEAVY THUD)
- Mark!
- (GRUNTING)
ADULT MARK: But this had
to be one of the worst.
(ECHOEY) Mark, honey, are you okay?
Uh where am I?
Who are you?
(ECHOEY) God, he doesn't even know us.
Mark, it's mom!
ADULT MARK: I woke up after my seizure
like Dorothy after the tornado.
My brain was fried.
Are ya on drugs? Huh? What is it?
The reefer? Smack? Acid?
(ANGELIC HARP STRUMS)
The doctor said it's epilepsy.
He had a seizure, that's all.
Allergic to flashing
lights? Foolishness!
What you need is a bread poultice.
(ANGELIC HARP STRUMS)
MARY: Excuse me, Connie?
I need to be discharged right away.
But, Mary, you're supposed
to stay for one more night.
I know, girl, but the only way
I'm gonna get any peace
tonight is if I go home.
POP: Yeah! Let's get outta this place.
We were all fine until we came here!
(MACHINES BEEP)
Ohhh I-I remember this.
You're all crazy,
and, uh, I worry about losing you a lot
'cause (INHALES)
You're old.
What? Not that old.
- I love you.
- Aww
Well, we're all very
fond of you, too, son.
(SIGHS) Is there any beer left?
Uh, yeah, there he goes
Not making any sense again.
Silly, silly boy.
Hey, uh why don't
you all go get dressed.
- I'll keep an eye on Mark.
- No, I think I should stay.
Mom, it's okay, I got him.
- MARK: (SIGHS WOOZILY)
- MIKE SR.: All right.
(FOOTSTEPS TAP LIGHTLY)
I remember you.
You're my brother.
Welcome back, little brother.
Hmm
Hey, you uh You wanna play?
Yeah.
- (GRUNTS)
- All right.
(SIGHS) War?
- Yeah.
- (CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
- (CARDS THUMP)
- Come with me ♪
- I got you a birthday present.
- (CARDS THWAP)
- Oh, what'd you get me?
- A new strobe light.
(DOOR SQUEAKS OPEN)
Oh dear
ADULT MARK: Despite my
worrying, the Grim Reaper
had finally come knocking,
and Misty was the only one home.
Our cat had died, and the loss for us
was as indelible as
her fur on the couch.
- You will always be ♪
- (DIRT THUDS, SHOVELS SCRAPE)
Home ♪
(SHOVELS THUD)
There might be palaces ♪
I think somebody should say something.
Where we go ♪
Uh
16 years is a long life for a cat.
She did everything
she was supposed to do:
ate, crapped, licked herself.
Can't ask for much more
outta life than that.
Good cat.
Always be home ♪
I never liked her, you know? (SOBS)
It's a sin to say it now,
but she scratched something awful.
She was family.
ADULT MARK: That was the first
and last time I ever saw my mother cry.
Oh, somebody say
something. It's just a cat.
ADULT MARK: At the
time, I thought that Mom
was crying for Misty, but looking back,
I think her tears were for
something else she lost.
And you will see
that we always be ♪
I still can't remember much,
but did I do a good job
when I was in charge?
Yeah.
Yeah, you did.
(SENTIMENTAL MUSIC PLAYS, LIGHT PAT)
ADULT MARK: Sometimes,
all you need to carry on
is someone to help carry the load.
- Home ♪
- (HARD PUNCH)
- Oh, ho, ho (LAUGHING)
- Hey!
♪
♪
♪
(TRUCK RUMBLES LOUDLY, HORN BLASTS)
ADULT MARK: They say breakfast
is the most important meal of the day,
but seeing how the median
age in our house was 68,
our breakfast of champions was pills.
- POP: Oh.
- (PILLS RATTLE)
Blues before yellows.
Yellows and reds before
pinks, and then whites.
No. Yellow and red, then blue.
Pink one after you eat.
- White ones are for Mark.
- (HEAVY EXHALE) Jesus.
ADULT MARK: Pop didn't
have much faith in pills.
He preferred the home
remedies he grew up with.
(BURPS AND SIGHS)
(GASPING)
Asthma's not real.
What you need is a bread poultice. Here.
ADULT MARK: Ah, the bread poultice.
Pop's answer to every ailment
from hangnail to gunshot wound.
Once hardened, it would supposedly
draw out the sickness.
(LICKS) Ooh!
Ooh, that would be lovely
with a nice cup of tea.
Hmm.
ADULT MARK: Mostly it
just ruined your shirt.
(GROSSED OUT) Eh.
They don't work by starin' at 'em.
Well, how do we know they work at all?
- 'Cause I'm still looking at your hoary mug.
- Hmm.
- Uh, Mary?
- Hmm?
Can I talk to you about
the door for a minute?
(FOOTSTEPS RECEDE)
Are you sure you don't
want me to come with ya
- to the hospital
- Oh, shh-shh-shh!
(HUSHED) I'll be fine.
Very routine operation, they said.
Besides, the boys need you here.
Look, I'm not very good
at this kinda thing, but
Come back to me in one piece.
Well, you know, minus the piece
they're gonna cut out o' ya or whatever.
I will do that.
ADULT MARK: The old man was
as smooth as sandpaper
(SMALL LAUGH)
And half as comforting.
MARY: Eat your breakfast now
so you can take your
pills that go with food.
What's going on?
Oh, it's nothin' to worry about, Mark.
I just have to go into
the hospital is all.
Oh! Can I go with you! I
love a good hospital visit.
Who're we gonna see? Mm. Doesn't matter,
I'll wear a suit either way.
No, Mark, your mother's
going in for a small surgery.
- (CUPBOARD BANGS SHUT)
- So, hey, you're lucky,
- you get to stay with me.
- MARY: (CLEARS THROAT)
Mary, somebody's got to tell the boy.
Remember, the tall
cans are for you crowd,
the short ones are for the cat, hmm?
- Are you dying?
- Oh no, Mark. No.
Don't be foolish, hmm?
POP: Well, I'm dying,
your father's dying,
the cat's dying, the whole
bloody house is dying,
but your mother will outlive us all.
- (HORN HONKS OUTSIDE)
- Taxi's here!
Wha uh, you're going right now?!
You're not even dressed!
Ah, what do I need to
be dressed for, hmm?
Only gonna to be puttin' on
a robe as soon as I get there.
Oh, Mark, you're a big boy now.
Look, you're in charge, okay?
Now you just keep an eye on
everything here while I'm gone,
and I'll come back fit as a fiddle.
Give us a hug, huh?
Yeah.
You be a good boy.
ADULT MARK: I was the
man of the house now,
but our house didn't need another man;
it needed a mom.
Hey, we've got tinned
spaghetti or purr-fect feast.
You know, with a name like that,
I am leaning purr-fect feast.
♪
♪
No.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
FOX: Wanna know your fortune?
What's the point? We're
all just gonna die anyway.
So that's a no.
What's your problem?
My mom's having surgery,
but I don't know what kind.
You're so weird. How can you
not know something like that?
They don't want me to worry,
which makes me worried.
ADULT MARK: I was used to
hospitals and even wakes,
but the thought of losing
my mother terrified me.
Not that my friends noticed.
Pick a colour.
- Uh red.
- R-e-d.
Pick a number.
- Four.
- One, two, three, four.
Now, read your fortune, dumbass.
(PAPER RUSTLES AND CRINKLES)
"You're dead." Ha! What does that mean?
If I catch you,
then you're gonna be
the one in the hospital.
Well?
(NERVOUS GRUNT) Mark!
ADULT MARK: I needed friends my own age.
- (PENSIVE EXHALE)
- I needed Pop.
(POP HUMS ALONG TO A
SEA SHANTY ON THE RADIO)
(SIZZLING)
(DOOR BANGS SHUT)
- Ugh! What stinks?
- Mm-hmm!
Supper. Ready.
(CHUCKLES TO HIMSELF)
MARK: Is that spaghetti in the cat bowl?
- Mm-hmm.
- Then what's in there?
Canmash.
- What's that?
- Well, go into the cupboard,
get all the cans I can,
and mash 'em all together. Delicious!
Ah, Mike, here. Try that.
- Ah, looks good, Pop.
- Yeah, yeah, good.
- Mm-hmm.
- (EATING SOUNDS)
(HORRIFIED GASP)
How is it? Come on, one to ten.
(EATING NOISILY) Ten.
ADULT MARK: The choices were clear:
Starvation or food poisoning.
(DISTANT SIREN WAIL APPROACHES)
Mm-hmm. All good, girl.
(RELIEVED SIGH)
My goodness, Connie, you
have got a gentle touch.
- (CHUCKLES)
- It's more like a spa
than a hospital 'round here.
Sin to say, but
Sometimes it's nice to
be away from the family.
Girl, I knows all too much about it.
I got two boys, and that's enough.
- Oh, I got the same.
- Oh, really?
Mm. Truth be told though,
the boys are not the
hard part, it's the
- The men? Hmm.
- Yes.
- I got one of them too.
- Mm
BOTH: (CHUCKLE)
Well, I suppose it'll all be okay.
The worst part is they're just
Well, there isn't anyone I can
really talk to about it at home, so
It'll be okay, believe me.
I knows all too much about it.
Yeah. Hmm.
Now you get to put
your feet up for once!
- (CART RATTLES)
- Oh my (GASPS)
Maclean's, Châtelaine, OWL -
- Mark loves that one.
- Mm-hmm.
I think I'll go with Châtelaine.
- Proper damn thing!
- Thank you.
- Want a cup o' tea?
- Oh yes, dear.
- Where's the kettle?
- Oh, no.
No, you lie down. Read your magazine.
- What?
- I'll get it for ya.
Oh!
Connie, I'm movin' in for good.
- You're welcome to it.
- (CHUCKLES)
ANNOUNCEMENT: Dr. Patterson
to the ER, please.
That's Dr. Patterson
(ROTARY PHONE DIAL RATTLES)
Pop, ya gotta take your pills!
(PILL BOTTLES RATTLE)
Hmph. Bloody drug pusher.
Uh, Mary Critch's room, please?
POP: This is what I'm after.
Mustard and bread. Can't beat it.
- MIKE SR.: Hello, Mary?
- MARY: (MUFFLED) Mark?
- What?
- Mark?
Let me have that again.
The line's very bad.
(MUFFLED) What the frig?
You go under the knife
at 9:00 A.M., you say?
- My God!
- Good God!
This line is terrible!
I'm gonna have to
call the phone company.
I mean, what the hell am I paying for?
- (INDISTINCT COMMENT)
- What does Dr. Fisher say?
ADULT MARK: Kids overhear
more than their parents think,
especially when everything
they say is shouted.
I listened to every word
for a glimmer of truth.
- A full hysterectomy?
- I was a good bit surprised.
- (INDISTINCT COMMENT)
- Now don't worry about us.
We have things well
in hand. You just rest.
(LINE GOES QUIET, PLUNGERS CLICK)
Hello?! Mary? Mary? Hello?!
- She's dead.
- (GASPS)
Uh, the line. The line's dead.
- Terrible line.
- (HANDSET CLUNKS LOUDLY)
That was your mother. She's
having a wonderful time.
(CAT MEOWS)
Cat hasn't even touched her noodles.
Puss! Puthy, Puthy, Puthy!
ADULT MARK: Misty was our cat.
She only appeared for feedings.
Like everything in our
house, she was old.
Dad loved the cat almost
as much as it hated him.
- (MISTY HISSES)
- Agh! She's a bloody lynx!
MISTY: (ANGRY MEOW)
MIKE SR.: Goddamn cat.
- Pop?
- Yes, sir.
Am I gonna have to have
a hysternmectomy one day?
Mm. Maybe.
Maybe not.
Probably not.
How do you know?
You know, sometimes a flower
loses its petals mm.
Mm
No pollen then.
Bees come buzzin' around
lookin' for this, that and the other,
but you're not gonna get stung by a bee,
'cause if they sting you,
then they have to rip
their own arse out.
And if they rip their own arse out,
well, then
They just die.
That's what's wrong with your mother.
More or less. Mm
ADULT MARK: I didn't know why
Pop needed all those pills,
but it was becoming
clear that he needed them
more than the bread poultice.
Ah, they wouldn't let
me in with flat feet.
Oh
Those bouncing bombs
Amazing.
Skip, skip, skip.
Hit the dam,
sank,
boom.
(CHUCKLES)
Ah, the bastards.
(GRUNTS)
Pop?
Did you take your pills?
Okay.
- Mm
- Night, Pop.
Mm
Good cat.
(DOG BARKS IN THE DISTANCE, BIRDS CHIRP)
- (KETTLE WHISTLES)
- RADIO: And now Mike Critch
- with the VOCM news!
- Mike! You up?
- RADIO: Were called the scene
- Your bus'll be here soon.
- RADIO: Two youths
- Mike?!
- I'm gone.
- (FRONT DOOR SHUTS)
Oh, you give and you give,
but they just don't care.
RADIO: They were disappointed
with the fried chicken
- (PILL BOTTLES RATTLE)
- Pop?!
Pop?!
Can no one answer me this morning?!
RADIO: The officers
were able to follow
Am I talking to thin air?!
- (POP GRUNTS SOFTLY)
- Pop?
Pop!
- Pop!
- (POP GRUNTS SOFTLY)
- Pop!
- (GRUNTS SOFTLY)
- (GRUNTS OF EFFORT)
- (GRUNTS SOFTLY)
(RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)
(PHONE CLATTERS, DIAL TONE DRONES)
(PANTING)
(DIAL RATTLES)
(LINE RINGS, POP GRUNTS SOFTLY)
(PHONE RINGS)
Drive safely. Arrive alive.
VOCM News. Critch speaking.
It's Pop! Come quick! It's Pop.
Pop? My God, you sound more like Mark.
This is an awfully clear line.
Gonna have to call the
phone company, let 'em know.
I am Mark! Pop's dead! Come home!
- (HANDSET SLAMS DOWN, DOOR BANGS SHUT)
- POP: Mm-hmm.
(FOOTSTEPS THUD RAPIDLY)
Oh God
You think he's dead?
No, but he's gone all yellow.
That's just the poultice.
I think he stopped taking his pills.
I'm too young to be in charge!
First Mom's gonna die, now Pop.
You shouldn't have left!
And you shouldn't have let her go!
Mark! Enough. (BREATHING RAPIDLY)
Call 9-1-1.
You think we need an ambulance?
We need two.
I'm having a heart attack.
(RUNNING FOOTSTEPS)
Don't worry, I'm getting help!
(WHEELCHAIR CREAKS)
Thank you, Connie, you're such a luv.
- (TOILET FLUSHES)
- Oh, hello, Mary.
Jesus! (GASPS) You nearly
gave me a heart attack!
(CURTAIN RATTLES BACK)
Uh, well, Mike already beat you to it.
Oh my God, are you okay?
Yes, I'm fine.
I just had a touch of a heart attack.
I got a bit startled
when I found Pop dead.
- Uh, dea
- I'm not dead!
The doctor said I've got
at least ten years left
if I stop smoking.
He put me down for five.
- When's your surgery?
- Oh.
She already had it, and
she's doing well, but
You know, this isn't
a legion bingo hall.
Can everybody please just
go back to their rooms?
It's fine, Connie, I don't mind.
Could you just give us a moment?
Okay.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER,
WHEELCHAIR CREAKS BY)
I leave you arseholes alone for 36 hours
and you wind up in the hospital?!
Who is minding the boys?
You're the one put Mark in charge.
Only good choice I made
this weekend, apparently!
Jesus this hurts! (PAINED GRUNT)
- (BLOWS OUT HER BREATH)
- This is delicious.
We should get this at home.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS, MIKE
JR. AND FRIENDS LAUGH)
MARK: Everyone we hold
dear is in hospital
and you throw a party!
Unbelievable.
There's two people.
We-we're playing cards, get lost!
Hmph! Can't get lost in
my own home now, can I?
That's what this house is, by the way,
a home.
(SIGHS)
Which we'll treat with
respect, I imagine.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)
(SIGHS HEAVILY, WRAPPERS CRINKLE)
MIKE JR.: Hey! Put that
down! It's a strobe light.
We're gonna listen to some
Floyd when it gets dark
and use it to trip-ip-ip-ip-ip-ip.
FRIENDS: (LAUGH)
ADULT MARK: My brother was
practically turning our home
into an opium den.
Mark. Go.
Hmph!
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS LOUDLY)
(SIGHS) I've completely lost control.
Mike's having a party.
There's a musician here!
Cool! Can I come?
Ritchie, homework.
Ah! Mrs. Perez!
How are you, ma'am?
I'm fine, Mark.
Ritchie needs to finish his homework.
- No phone.
- 'Kay.
MIKE JR.: (YELLS) Come on!
There's the sober perspective I'm after.
Good call, Mrs. Perez.
Without a firm hand at the wheel,
it all comes crumbling down.
Thank you, Mark.
No, (CHUCKLES) thank you, Mrs. Perez.
(HANDSET CLICKS)
(HANDSET CLATTERS, MIKE
AND HIS FRIENDS LAUGH)
- (DIAL TONE DRONES)
- Hello?
- (BUSY SIGNAL BEEPS)
- (SIGHS) Still busy.
- (HANDSET CLICKS)
- My God,
I can't even enjoy an operation
to myself with you crowd.
POP: Uh, wait. Have
you got many stitches?
Because, you know, a bread
poultice will see you right.
You go away with your bay voodoo.
Mike, you think that
Dick would look in on them?
Mike is 16 years old,
and Mark is older than I am.
You're just full of comfort, aren't ya?
(SUCKS TEETH)
Jesus!
Fruit in syrup, gorgeous! 100 percent.
(TOAST POPS UP, ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)
ADULT MARK: Like Mrs.
Perez, I came to realize
that someone had to put
the "hold" in household.
It was up to me to hold the fort.
(MARK HUMS TO THE MUSIC,
MIKE'S FRIENDS SHOUT)
When it came to cooking,
I really put the boy in Chef Boyardee.
- (LOUD KNOCK AT THE DOOR)
- FRIEND: What're ya doin'?
The door? Oh, good God!
It's 6:30 at night!
MIKE JR.: Oh! I got it!
ADULT MARK: In the '80s,
certain cab companies
would deliver beer right to your door,
no questions asked.
Yes! Thank you! Keep the change.
(DOOR BANGS SHUT, BEER BOTTLES CLINK)
- You bought beer?
- Go back in the kitchen.
Good God!
(KISSES BOX, FRIEND LAUGHS)
- Let's see.
- Let's go!
I don't believe you!
You're going full Belushi on me.
It's like
The Château Marmont in here.
You don't even care about
Mom, or Dad! Or Pop
Hey, of course I'm
worried about them, but
There's nothing I can do about it.
And I'm not a bad guy, you know?
This is why no one wants
to hang out with you.
- (CAP CLATTERS)
- Try being a kid for once.
ADULT MARK: He was right.
I was driving the only family
I had left away from me.
♪
(STROBE LIGHT CLICKS ON AND WHIRS)
- Is that all it does?
- Well, I think it's cool!
Yeah!
I think it's kinda crap.
Trippy!
Trip, trip. Come on!
Come on! Trip!
ADULT MARK: Mike wanted
me to act my age,
but I had never been my age before.
Trip, trip, trip, trip!
(MARK DANCES TO THE ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
Hey, that's too close.
Who's the party pooper now, huh?
Mark, that's too close!
ADULT MARK: I don't
suppose there's a good time
to discover you're an epileptic
- (GRUNTS)
- (HEAVY THUD)
- Mark!
- (GRUNTING)
ADULT MARK: But this had
to be one of the worst.
(ECHOEY) Mark, honey, are you okay?
Uh where am I?
Who are you?
(ECHOEY) God, he doesn't even know us.
Mark, it's mom!
ADULT MARK: I woke up after my seizure
like Dorothy after the tornado.
My brain was fried.
Are ya on drugs? Huh? What is it?
The reefer? Smack? Acid?
(ANGELIC HARP STRUMS)
The doctor said it's epilepsy.
He had a seizure, that's all.
Allergic to flashing
lights? Foolishness!
What you need is a bread poultice.
(ANGELIC HARP STRUMS)
MARY: Excuse me, Connie?
I need to be discharged right away.
But, Mary, you're supposed
to stay for one more night.
I know, girl, but the only way
I'm gonna get any peace
tonight is if I go home.
POP: Yeah! Let's get outta this place.
We were all fine until we came here!
(MACHINES BEEP)
Ohhh I-I remember this.
You're all crazy,
and, uh, I worry about losing you a lot
'cause (INHALES)
You're old.
What? Not that old.
- I love you.
- Aww
Well, we're all very
fond of you, too, son.
(SIGHS) Is there any beer left?
Uh, yeah, there he goes
Not making any sense again.
Silly, silly boy.
Hey, uh why don't
you all go get dressed.
- I'll keep an eye on Mark.
- No, I think I should stay.
Mom, it's okay, I got him.
- MARK: (SIGHS WOOZILY)
- MIKE SR.: All right.
(FOOTSTEPS TAP LIGHTLY)
I remember you.
You're my brother.
Welcome back, little brother.
Hmm
Hey, you uh You wanna play?
Yeah.
- (GRUNTS)
- All right.
(SIGHS) War?
- Yeah.
- (CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
- (CARDS THUMP)
- Come with me ♪
- I got you a birthday present.
- (CARDS THWAP)
- Oh, what'd you get me?
- A new strobe light.
(DOOR SQUEAKS OPEN)
Oh dear
ADULT MARK: Despite my
worrying, the Grim Reaper
had finally come knocking,
and Misty was the only one home.
Our cat had died, and the loss for us
was as indelible as
her fur on the couch.
- You will always be ♪
- (DIRT THUDS, SHOVELS SCRAPE)
Home ♪
(SHOVELS THUD)
There might be palaces ♪
I think somebody should say something.
Where we go ♪
Uh
16 years is a long life for a cat.
She did everything
she was supposed to do:
ate, crapped, licked herself.
Can't ask for much more
outta life than that.
Good cat.
Always be home ♪
I never liked her, you know? (SOBS)
It's a sin to say it now,
but she scratched something awful.
She was family.
ADULT MARK: That was the first
and last time I ever saw my mother cry.
Oh, somebody say
something. It's just a cat.
ADULT MARK: At the
time, I thought that Mom
was crying for Misty, but looking back,
I think her tears were for
something else she lost.
And you will see
that we always be ♪
I still can't remember much,
but did I do a good job
when I was in charge?
Yeah.
Yeah, you did.
(SENTIMENTAL MUSIC PLAYS, LIGHT PAT)
ADULT MARK: Sometimes,
all you need to carry on
is someone to help carry the load.
- Home ♪
- (HARD PUNCH)
- Oh, ho, ho (LAUGHING)
- Hey!
♪
♪
♪