Ten Year Old Tom (2021) s02e03 Episode Script

Shopping Cart Hit and Run/Filthy Tom

1
- Now as our poor
young lungs deflate ♪
I'll admit
I've gotten older ♪
Mellowed out, chatting up
those I used to hate ♪

The feeling that
we're lost will always fade ♪
I present no explanations ♪
Can't expect
our tired patience ♪
To satiate for long ♪
And therein lies a truth
we can sip when we want ♪
Disciples of the flow,
we can float anywhere ♪
- Okay, Tom,
what's left on our list?
- Uh, Doritos, candy,
Pop-Tarts, Chips Ahoy!
And then it says,
"Grab some salad
so you don't look
like a bad mom."
- Okay,
you sit tight right here.
I'm just gonna go grab
a few pieces of lettuce.
- All right,
just grab a--
grab a slice of lettuce.
- Hey, there, big boy.
- "Big boy"?
You talking to me?
- Yeah, you're a little big
to be riding in that cart,
don't you think?
- Big?
Nah, standard kid size.
- Listen,
I'm just trying to help,
but you look like
an absolute idiot
sucking on that juice box.
- I don't know
how that helps me
in my day-to-day life.
- Listen, life moves fast.
One minute,
you're playing little league.
Next, you're smoke weed,
you're nailing chicks.
- I'm not nailing anyone.
I'm ten years old.
- I'm just saying, I want you
to hop out of the cart
and just push it.
- No, my mom told me you have
to have a license for that.
- Well, people have been
lying to you your entire life
if that's what they told you.
[thud]
- So I've got permission
to push the cart?
- Absolutely.
- This is shockingly easy.
- Yeah.
- Yeah, I could've started
doing this when I was five.
- Absolutely.
Get out there and be somebody.
- Manager, check this out.
No hands.
- Hell, yeah, break out
of the handcuffs of youth
and push that cart.
- Whoo!
Oh, no!
- [screams]
- Oh, that's not good.
- [moaning dramatically]
Oh, why?
- Is it just me,
or is he overdramatizing this?
Hey, there, Nelson.
What's the word?
- Listen,
whatever's about to go down,
don't let it
affect our friendship.
- "Go down"?
What does that even mean?
- Tom!
- Ah. Nelson's dad?
Why are you on the bus?
- You have been served.
- Oh, no.
- I'm representing Hector.
We're suing the supermarket.
- No.
- We're suing the manager.
- Please.
- We're suing
the watermelon industry.
- No,
you can't sue watermelons.
- And we're suing you.
See you
at your deposition, son.
- Nelson, you got to stop this.
I literally did nothing wrong.
- Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa.
I can't discuss it, Tom.
- What's that supposed to mean?
- There's a conflict
of interest.
I could get disbarred.
- Disbarred from what?
You're not a lawyer.
- Why don't I move
one seat back
until this case is settled?
- Nelson, please, come on.
- Hey, what are we
talking about?
- Oh, my God.
- Oh, you got a little pin
for your bag.
Oh, that's cool.
What is that, a ladybug?
Oh, no.
Oh, watermelons. Cart.
Cart. Hector, no. Wait.
Depositions!
- Tom!
- Nelson's dad!
Please! Oh, no!
Oh, no, a watermelon!
- Tom!
- Oh, hey, Ma.
- You okay?
- Oh, man,
I was having a nightmare.
- Is this about the lawsuit?
- It is.
- Look, I don't want you
to have any stress around this.
No one can sue us.
- What do you mean?
They--they can come
after all of our stuff.
- Tom, everything we own
is terrible,
and it's worth nothing.
- It is pretty disgusting.
- We're un-suable.
It's one of the perks
of being poor.
- Oh, this is great news.
- I invite them
to get aggressive with us.
Have it, dummy.
None of it's good.
- Have it, dummy.
- Mm-hmm.
- You can have
my disgusting backpack
and my mom's nasty clothes.
- Have all my nasty clothes.
Take my culottes, bitch.
- This is great.
We don't have anything.
- Take my tank top, honey.
I got five of 'em for a buck.
- I feel great now.
I got to say,
I'm gonna sleep well tonight.
- Aw. Night-night, kid.
[door closes]
[knock on window]
- Tom, wake up.
- What?
- It's the manager
from Food Mart.
- What?
Get out of my room.
- We got to talk
about the lawsuit.
- Oh, no, I'm fine.
I'm un-suable, so I'm good.
- You might be good.
I'm not good.
If they find out I pressured
you to push the cart,
I could be found liable.
And we're friends, so
- We're not friends. Hey, no.
[clattering]
Please don't come in.
Don't come in.
Stop.
- Look, I'm in your room.
- Stop.
- I'm in your room already.
So now we're friends.
- Oh, my God.
- I have a small favor to ask.
- Okay.
- I need you to change
out of your pajamas
- Stop.
- Ride your bike
to the supermarket
- Stop.
- Steal the security tapes,
and destroy them in the river.
- Are you okay?
- I am not okay, all right?
They won't let me
near the security booth.
- Oh, you got to check
into some kind of clinic
or something.
- Come on, I'll give your mom
free groceries for life.
- That's tempting.
It just feels wrong.
- Free mayo--
does that feel wrong?
- You brought them with you?
- Canned peaches?
- Oh, my God,
canned peaches for free?
- Unlimited deli meats?
- I just can't sneak
out of the house.
I can't picture doing it.
- Man up, Tom.
If you're old enough
to push a cart,
you're old enough
to steal some security tapes.
- Thanks for doing this, Randy.
I can't believe
you actually agreed.
- Hey, if you need me,
I'm here for you, buddy.
- Yeah, I usually go to Nelson
for these kind of things,
but he's got a conflict
of interest, so
- Pfft, Nelson?
Nelson is a poor man's Randy.
- You do have
a confident demeanor.
So how are we gonna do this?
We got to get in
and get the tapes.
Do you have any kind of plan?
- Okay, first,
I'm gonna cause a distraction
by going on a racist rant.
- Seems kind of weird.
- And then
you enter the security booth,
and you ransack the place
to make it look like a robbery.
- What purpose does that serve?
- And if anyone asks
where your parents are,
you just say,
"No comment, asshole."
- I'm not allowed to swear.
Can I say--
- "No comment, butthole."
- I kind of regret calling you,
but let's just--
let's just hope for the best.
- Uh, excuse me?
Why is this store
carrying sauerkraut?
You know who else
liked sauerkraut?
A man by the name of Hitler!
- Oh, my God.
What is this kid doing?
- Black beans?
Where I come from,
they're just beans.
- All right, here we go--tapes,
tapes, where are the tapes?
Where are the tapes?
Where are the tapes?
Cloud?
What the hell's a cloud?
Cloud? No. What's happening?
This--this makes no sense.
- Kid,
where are your parents anyway?
- My parents?
- Yeah, where are they?
- You want to know
where my parents are?
Why?
'Cause you want to fuck them?
- What does that even mean?
- All right. Think, Tom.
Think, think.
All right, you know what?
Let's just destroy it.
Destroy the machine.
That didn't seem to work.
[static whirs]
Attention, shoppers.
Will Randy please go
to the parking lot?
- Okay.
I'm gonna get out of here.
Forget what I said. I--
You don't want
to fuck my parents.
I don't even know
why I said that.
That's a crazy thing to say.
- Oh, what a disaster.
- Yeah.
Thanks to you, we blew it.
- Oh, you're not smart.
You're just not smart.
- I am smart.
You're dumb.
- That's your comeback?
- [sighs]
Let's just settle up
and get out of here.
- "Settle up"?
What--what do you mean?
- Pay me.
- Oh, this isn't a paid job.
I just called you late at night
and said,
"Meet me at the supermarket."
- Oh, so it was a booty call?
- Just childhood high jinks,
just fun stuff.
- You think
I'm volunteering my time here?
- Oh, yeah, Nelson
does this kind of stuff
for free all the time.
- You guys are friends.
I barely know your last name.
Pay me.
- All right, fine.
Here's the money.
- What is this?
Canned peaches?
- All right, you know what?
This is not the time to haggle.
Let's get out of here.
Go. Run.
[musical scales playing]

- Oh, I'm so stupid.
Why did I break
into the supermarket?
- Thomas, might I have
the temerity to ask
why you're sweating
and mumbling to yourself?
- All right, not today, Mr. B.
I'm not in the mood.
I-I've got a lot going on.
- What do you have
"going on"?
- I didn't get a lot of sleep.
I'm just not in the mood
for the whole Mr. B. schtick.
- "Schtick"?
Young man,
I will see you after class.
- I'm sorry.
- Wow.
Tom.
- What?
- Excuse me?
- What do you need?
- Tom,
are you feeling all right?
You seem out of character.
- Honestly, Dakota,
I know you're trying to help.
Can you just shut up
and play your flute?
- I'm gonna
give you a pass, Tom,
but that's the last time you're
ever gonna tell me to shut up.
Okay?
- I apologize for that.
- Yeah,
that's a one-and-done on that.
- Excuse me--
quick interruption,
but I need to see Tom
in my office now.
- Are you kidding me?
All right,
someone put away my bassoon.
I-I can't deal with this
right now.
Oh, the last thing I need today
is more principal bullshit.
What do you want?
- Close the door
and get in here right now.
- Who are you?
What's happening?
Are you a cop?
- I'm the one
asking the questions, okay?
So sit down and shut up.
And, you, get me a coffee.
- Can I see some credentials?
You just came in here,
and you put your feet up.
- My credentials?
Here are my credentials
right here.
- You pointing at your gun
or your badge?
- I'm grabbing my penis, okay?
I'm grabbing my penis.
- You're in a grade school,
you realize?
- Now, look, we can go
back and forth all day,
but I don't have time for this.
I came in here for answers,
and I'm gonna leave
with answers.
- Listen, I'm a little kid.
I was pushing a shopping cart.
That's not a crime.
- [laughs]
You want to know
what is a crime, Tom?
- Okay?
- Defacing security equipment
with a peanut butter
and jelly sandwich.
Bam!
- I actually
don't think it is, but--
- No, I don't think so either.
- Here's what we're gonna do.
I'm gonna be in touch.
But until I do,
do not step foot out
of the state of New Jersey.
Capisce?
- I don't speak Italian, so
- I don't either.
I think it means,
"Do you understand?"
- Wait, you're not strapping me
to the front of the bus,
are you?
- Hector,
I'm a licensed bus driver.
I know what I'm doing, man.
- No, no, no, no.
No, stop it.
This is not safe.
- It's fine.
- Tom, great news.
- I thought we can't talk.
What's happening?
- Turns out that
the attorney-client privileges
don't even apply
to the son of an attorney.
- I didn't think
that made sense.
- Lean in.
I got something to tell you.
Here.
- What's up?
- I really got reason
to believe
that Hector
is not really injured.
- Wait, what?
- My dad took his deposition.
And he was bouncing
on a trampoline,
saying, "I'm rich."
- For no reason, he was
bouncing on a trampoline?
- Yep, rapping that "I'm rich."
- Rapping?
- Rapping "I'm rich."
- That's crazy!
That's insurance fraud!
- Look, if you can get him
on tape
admitting insurance fraud,
this whole case goes away.
- All right,
let's do this.
Make arrangements
to meet the cop.
Just get all the equipment
and the scheduling,
and I'll just show up.
- Tom, you really need to start
paying me for these things.
- I'm not sure
what Randy told you,
but I literally paid him
in canned peaches.
- All right, here we go.
I'm glad you decided
to cooperate, kid.
If Hector's lying,
this whole case goes away.
- So what do we have to do?
We have to record his voice?
- I'm gonna hardwire you, okay?
It's gonna go under your shirt.
It's gonna run along your side
and down the leg of your pant.
- Why?
- Okay, I'm sorry.
Who is this guy?
- He's Nelson.
He's my friend/fixer.
- It's like a unpaid position.
- Okay, well,
here's what I need you to do.
I need you to pipe down
because what I'm talking about
is very complex stuff, okay?
- Is it?
That's, like, a lot of wire.
Why don't we just use
my burner phone?
- Tom,
who's in charge here, okay?
Is it this Nelson kid,
or is it me?
- I want to say you,
but I don't feel like you are.
I think let's go
with Nelson's idea.
- No disrespect.
- Yeah.
Let's go with the burner phone.
It's just smarter
on multiple levels.
All right, let's do it.
- I'm rich, I'm rich ♪
And watermelons
are my bitch ♪
Hector, Hector ♪
Motherfucking Hector ♪
- Hector,
I hear you rapping in there.
Come on, open up.
It's me.
Hey, Hector. Hey, I'm glad
to see you're doing better.
- I'm not doing better.
I might have brain damage.
- Brain damage
from watermelons?
- Those are heavy,
and they're filled with water.
- You're not really hurt.
Come on, you could tell Tom.
- Why are you get--
what are you doing?
- You can say,
"I've been faking my injuries."
- What are you talk--
why are you close to me?
- What do you mean why?
I'm close to you as a friend.
- Are you recording me
right now?
- What are you doing?
Don't frisk.
Don't frisk me.
- No, no, no.
You got something.
- Stop frisking me. Hey.
- Ha. Wow.
Tom, I hate to break it to you,
but you're not the guy
who records me.
I'm the guy who records you.
- What does that even mean?
- Nelson's dad planted a wire
in your backpack
the other day,
so we know it all.
- Oh, no.
- The collusion,
the bribes,
the cop pointing to his penis--
we know all that stuff.
- All right, you know what?
I got to go. This conversation
never happened.
- Oh, no, it did,
and we recorded it.
- I'll deny it.
I'll deny everything.
- We recorded that, too.
Ah, you don't understand
anything.
- All right, I got to go.
- Bye.
- [bangs on van]
- Yo, Tom, how did it go?
- Not good, Nelson.
Your dad planted a bug
on my backpack?
- You know what?
Now that I think about it,
this feel like a conflict
of interest after all.
Why don't I recuse myself?
- He's riding away.
- This is not good.
Get in the van, Tom.
[engine turning over]
This is a nightmare!
They've been recording you?
- All right, slow down.
Why do you care?
You're a cop.
- I'm not a cop, Tom.
- What?
- I am a junior insurance claim
adjuster's assistant for GEICO.
- Oh, my God, you came
into my school with a gun
and pointing at your penis.
- My job is boring, okay?
I like to try to spice it up
with some little stuff
here and there.
- We got to call GEICO.
- Tom, you don't call GEICO.
If they were to find out
I was doing stakeouts
and grilling kids at
grade schools, I'm done, Tom.
- We got to call the principal,
my mom, or GEICO.
- No.
- We got to call someone.
- We have one option
and one option only.
We flee the state.
We live in the van
until the heat dies down.
- I'm not living in a van
with you.
- Fine.
I'm gonna let you off here.
Just do one
of those drop-and-roll things.
I can't have the license plate
caught on camera.
- You want me to jump
out of a moving van?
- I'm not gonna stop the van.
- No, you got to slow it down.
- I'm not.
- I'm gonna kill myself.
I'm gonna die.
- I'm not gonna stop, Tom.
- You got a lot of problems.
You got a lot of issues
to sort through.
- I'm not gonna
dispute that, Tom.
[body thuds]
[door chimes]
Oh, we got problems.
We got problems, Manager.
They know it all--
the collusion, the bribes.
We got to run.
- Tom.
- We got to get out of here.
- Calm down.
- We got to skip town.
- Tom, relax.
They settled the case, Tom.
- Settled the case?
What does that mean?
- Corporate just called
and said,
"We couldn't care less
about the 40K.
Just pay the kid
and be done with it."
- That's amazing.
- Got a bottle of champagne
to celebrate right here.
- Oh, I obviously can't drink.
- What?
In some cultures,
you're old enough
to get married.
- Very few,
very few cultures.
- Tom, if you're enough
to push a cart,
you're old enough to party.
- All right.
As long as you're
signing off on it.
[grunts]
Oh, wow, this is not easy.
[grunting]
Here, hold me.
Hold my shoulders.
- All right.
I'll put one foot on your back.
- Come on, get out.
Go, go.
[cork pops, thuds]
- My eye!
- Oh, no!
- Aah!
I came to pick up my check,
and now I'm blind.
Who did this?
Is anybody gonna help me?
- Oh, God, this is bad.
Negligence, underage drinking.
- All right, listen.
I won't tell anyone
you encouraged
the underage drinking.
Just keep that mayo
and canned peaches
coming our way.
- Deal.
Now get the hell out of here.
[door chimes]
- Too--too many crimes, Tom,
too many crimes.
- Does he know that
we're recording all of this?
- He's just not good at
this stuff the way I am, Dad.
- I never should have lied
to the cop.
Once he pointed to his penis,
I should have gotten
out of there.
[rock music]
[distant siren wailing]
- Hey, Dakota's Dad, thanks
again for doing my taxes.
- No problem.
My wife dislikes you intensely,
so this is like
a small victory for me.
- Dislikes me or my--or my mom?
- Eh, a little from column A,
a little from column B.
Let me ask you, how comfortable
are you with some mild lying?
- I would describe
my comfort level
as high to extremely high.
- Mom.
- Good.
Because I'd like
to claim Tom's backpack
as a business expense.
- What did it cost?
- Nothing.
It was a gift from my grandma.
- Just put down 1,000 bucks.
- 1,000?
No, Mom, please.
What are you writing down?
Don't write that down.
- And the ice-cream truck
Tom sank,
that sounds like
a capital-gains loss.
- True that. Put her down.
- Well, that you can't say,
'cause we literally
never owned it.
- I have a question--
if my husband
is nailing a masseuse
in Myrtle Beach,
can I claim her as a dependent?
- Oh, my God.
- Why not?
- What?
- If she's sucking
your dad's wiener,
she's draining your finances.
- Why are we even saying
the word "wiener" in this room?
- Tom,
it's a repeating expense.
We got to claim it.
- I got to put my foot down.
You got to stop.
Unplug the computer.
Do something.
[rattling]
Ouch.
- Tom,
who's the accountant here?
Me or you?
- I guess you.
- Exactly.
Now, take my laptop
and go watching "Finding Dory"
or some other kid shit.
- I knew this would be awkward.
This is just taking it
to another level.
Okay, "Finding Dory."
Which folder am I looking in?
"Personal," "Travel,"
"Church Bullshit,"
"Wife Nonsense"
Oh, "Dakota's Dad's Movies."
All right, there we go.
- Oh, hello, sexy stepson.
- Hello, sexy stepmom.
- That's weird.
I thought it was animated.
- May I come in?
- Yes.
- Where are all the fish?
What's going on here?
- I love
your Eastern European boobs.
- I will shake them for you.
- Why is this guy
taking off his pants?
- Ooh, so forbidden.
- Oh, this is so wrong
but so right.
- Boobs? Wait! Oh, no!
Oh, don't look! Forbidden!
Where's the volume? Stop!
- Sexy stepmother! Yes!
- Yes, my son by marriage!
[line trilling]
Yes!
- Hey, oh, Nelson here.
- Nelson, I got a problem.
- "Problem"?
Man, you got to call
my burner phone for problems.
- It can't wait.
I borrowed a laptop.
I think I opened a dirty movie.
- You think?
- I'm seeing boobs.
I'm seeing rear ends.
- All right, Tom.
All right, I need you
to empty the browser cache.
- What's a browser?
- Clear the history.
- Nelson,
I'm not a computer guy.
You know that.
- Okay, Tom, look--
- Why do you sound so relaxed?
Are you on a hammock right now?
- I am on a hammock,
but look--
- Get off the hammock.
- All right. All right.
All right.
I'm off the hammock now.
- No, you're not.
You're useless.
I'm hanging up.
- Take a screenshot!
- [groaning]
- Stop playing filthy things!
[laptop whirs]
That sounded good.
The movie went away.
- Inheritance tax
is a tricky area,
but I'm gonna put down
1,000 bucks.
- Great.
[computer chimes]
- No, no, no, no, no, no.
I'll be right back.
[running footsteps departing]
[door opens]
- Oh, boy.
- [whistles]
- Tom.
- Hey, Double D.
- An email was sent
from my laptop
with a link to a movie
called
"Eastern European MILFs."
- What's a MILF?
Where's Eastern Europe?
I don't even know
what you're talking about.
- Oh, don't play dumb.
You emailed it
to my Bible study group.
Now you need to take the blame.
- What?
- You're the fall guy.
- I didn't see the movie!
I literally saw one boob
for, like, three seconds.
- Come on, Tom.
- Where are we going?
- Don't worry
about where we're going.
- Should I call my mom?
- Don't call your mom.
What are you,
a little baby boy?
- What are we even doing?
- You are going to make
a shameful apology video.
- Oh, no.
- Read these cards,
word for word.
- "Hi. My name is Filthy Tom"?
I'm not reading that.
- Word for word, Tom.
Or your mom's refund
goes bye-bye.
- No refund if I don't read it?
- Zip.
And I'm telling everyone
that you looked at boobies.
- All right.
Last time we ask you
to do our taxes,
I'll say that much.
[camcorder beeps]
- Action.
- Hi, there.
My name is Filthy Tom.
And I've been a bad, bad boy?
I recently hacked
into Dakota's dad's laptop
and blasted out
a filthy email saying,
"Hey, check out
these Eastern European MILFs."
Why did I do this?
- Say it.
- Because I'm filthy
and disgusting
and Dakota's dad--
I can't say this.
- Word for word, Tom.
- Dakota's dad is
a wholesome man
with a great physique
for a man of his age.
Thank you.
- Hey, that was great.
- That was great?
- I-I'm proud of you, Tom.
You're like
the son I never had.
- You have a 12-year-old son.
He's on my baseball team.
- Oh, right, that guy.
- I'm so disgusted
with you, Tom.
- I'm disgusted with myself.
- You coined your own nickname?
- It got away from me.
- Why would you make up
a nickname like that?
- I don't know.
I thought it was catchy.
But in retrospect,
I shouldn't have.
- Well, you ruined
your reputation,
and we're gonna fix it fast.
I want you to go ask the priest
for a baptism.
- Just demand a baptism?
- Yes.
Don't even ask.
Demand a baptism.
- Hey.
Are you the boss here?
- The boss?
I mean, I'm the priest.
- I was hoping you could bang
out a quick baptism real quick.
- Just slam one out?
- If you could.
If it's not too much trouble.
- You know, I'm looking at you.
Aren't you--you're the kid
who sent the email, right?
I believe
they call you Filthy Tom.
- No, that nickname's
not really catching on.
- Made its way to me,
so I guess it did catch on.
Let's work our way
up to a baptism, all right?
- Work our way up to it?
- If you want to get involved,
why not start out
as an altar boy?
- Oh, no.
No, I wouldn't--
- Yes.
Yes.
- That's a whole other world.
That's a whole other subculture
I don't want
to get involved in.
- That sounds great.
- No, no, no.
I-I got a full schedule.
I got wiffleball, I got--
- He'll take the job.
He'll quit wiffleball,
and he'll take the job.
- No. What does--what does
an altar boy do exactly?
- A lot of lighting candles,
ringing bells,
wearing robes.
- I don't know.
I'm not a big robe guy.
- You don't have to really love
robes to wear a robe.
- Hey, Tom.
- Oh, hey.
Randy, you're an altar boy.
- Yeah.
How do I look?
- Kind of weird.
- What?
- What does the job pay?
- Um, we get paid
in God's glory.
- Are you joking?
- Uh, no.
- Let me get this straight.
You wake up on a Sunday.
- Mm-hmm.
- You light candles,
ring bells
- No, we--
- Wear an ill-fitting robe
- I mean--
- And you don't get any money?
- Just let this go,
all right, man?
Okay, folks,
before we start,
I want to introduce
our newest altar boy, Tom.
- Thank you, everyone.
People are calling me
Religious Tom.
It's just a nickname.
Thank you, though.
- All right, Tom.
I was just introducing you.
You don't need--there's no,
like, speech you need to make.
- Filthy Tom?
I guess they're just
letting anyone in now.
- Just anybody.
- That's my religious son
up there.
He doesn't look
at Eastern European porn.
What?
He reads the Bible.
- Our altar boys
are going
to pass
the collection plate around.
Well, while they do that,
let's open our hymnals
to page 423.
- Tom?
- Yeah?
- You got me thinking.
Why in the mother-effing hell
are we not getting paid?
- Don't say "mother-effing
hell." What are you doing?
- We work our asses off
every Sunday
to get paid in God's glory?
Eh, news flash--that is not
a type of currency.
- Forget I said anything.
Forget I--
- Tom.
- You got to shut up.
You got to shut up.
- It's the weekend.
And we're indoors
wearing goddamn robes.
- Even in a non-church setting,
it's too much cursing.
- I mean, look at me.
I'm ringing a bell?
[bell rings]
Who does that?
[bell ringing]
Is this fun?
- Randy, stop.
- We should be at
Nelson's pool party right now.
- Honestly,
I don't think you were invited.
- But if I was, I should be
doing things like that.
- You're not well-liked.
- Because I'm hanging out
at this flophouse.
Meet me backstage, okay?
Let's talk.
All right. All right.
All right. Okay.
Everybody, huddle up.
Tom here has a great idea
- No.
- That's gonna take us
from being altar boys
to altar men.
- No, leave me out of this.
- I agree with Tom
that God wants us
to be paid a fair wage.
- I never said that.
- Starting today, we're
gonna skim 10% off the top.
Just like they did in "Casino."
- Oh, yeah.
- No, we're not.
- Then we're gonna
tape the money to Tom's body
- That's a great idea.
- Like
in "Wolf of Wall Street."
- Please, no.
- And then Tom
will sneak it out of
the building little by little
like in "Shawshank."
- I've never seen
any of these movies.
I don't even--
- You can just read
the plot summaries.
We stash the money
at your house
- Oh, my God.
- Till we're 18.
And then we move to Mexico
or whatever happened
at the end of "Shawshank."
I haven't seen it either.
- I just can't get in trouble.
- [scoffs] There's no risk.
- Yeah.
- All the scrutiny is
on the priests these days,
so altar boys can get away
with literally anything.
They want us to.
"Payback"!
Have you seen that
Mel Gibson movie, "Payback"?
- You know I haven't seen it.
- Here's the plan.
I'll put away the candles.
Ryan, fold up the robes.
And the rest of you,
tape the money to Tom's body
so we can smuggle it out.
Amen.
- Why do I have
to smuggle it out?
- Oh, sorry.
I-I already said "amen."
- What does that mean?
- Once I say "amen,"
there's no going back.
[lively music playing]
- Turn up the jams, dudes.
Let's get this party started.
- Oh, Tommy Tom.
- It's about time.
I only can make
so much small talk with Dakota.
- Yeah, we have
very little in common.
- Well, let's have fun now.
Ahh, all right.
- Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Get up, man.
We're about to play volleyball.
- Oh, no, it's Sunday.
Can't play sports on Sunday.
- But you just said--
- I'm a churchgoing guy.
I just want to relax.
You guys have fun. I'm gonna
take a nap and read the Bible.
- Read the Bible?
What?
- I don't want to get in a pool
with a bunch of sinners!
- Did you just call us sinners?
- What are you trying
to tempt me into the pool for?
- Tom, shut up
and get in the pool!
- This is blasphemy.
It really is.
- Take it off, man.
Come on.
- Get up. Get him.
- Stop. Hey.
Hey, please. Hey.
- Take it off.
- Don't. No, please.
- Whoa.
- Oh, what the hell?
- What's wrong?
My physique or the money?
- What's going on, Tom?
You got, like,
$40 taped to your chest.
- This is the way
I carry my money.
My mom doesn't trust banks.
- Tom, Tom,
I don't know what kind
of "Wolf of Wall Street" stuff
you caught up in,
but, I mean, we need to talk.
- How did everybody
see this movie except me?
All right, let's not make
a big thing of this.
Let's just go back
to the pool party.
- Tom, you're
in a crisis mode, man.
Focus here!
- Okay, that's a bit much.
- Thomas, in general terms,
what you've gotten into?
- In general terms,
I mean,
it's just a large organization
smuggling funds
- Oh, my God.
- And I'm the mule, I suppose.
- Wha--
- I mean, is that even a crime?
- That's the definition
of a crime!
- Is it?
Being a mule is a crime?
- Dakota, kill the music!
- What?
- Oh, don't kill the mus--no.
- Destroy your phones.
Yellow tape around the pool
right now.
- Okay!
- Everybody, leave.
- Running!
Aah!
- The party's not relaxing.
- Your only play
is to be a rat, Tom.
- A rat? I'll get in trouble.
I'm doing the crime.
- No, no,
the first to talk always gets
a slap on the wrist.
- Oh, really?
- Now, grab one
of Nelson's suits
and get yourself down
to the IRS.
- IRS? This is the worst
pool party I've ever been to.
- Tom, buddy,
I got to tell you,
I'm proud of you
for doing this.
- "Proud"? I was a mule
in an embezzling scheme
against the church.
- Yeah.
But you're ratting
on the altar boys.
You're incorruptible--
purest of the pure right here.
Little rat mule.
- That's true.
All right.
Well, wish me luck.
- While you're in there, see
if they have my refund check.
- I'm on it.
[door closes]
- Okay, son.
It's a really brave thing
you're doing here.
Just state your name
and tell me everything
right into the camera here.
- [distorted voice]
All right, name is Tom,
and I have come here
to blow the whistle
about a scandal unfolding
at the church.
- Nope. Yeah, got to stop
you there, buddy.
- [normal voice]
What's wrong?
- Don't really care
about all that church stuff?
- What's this?
- They're tax-exempt,
so we really don't have
any jurisdiction over them.
- No, the altar boys
are stealing money.
They're gonna move to Mexico.
- Doesn't matter.
- Are you getting this?
- The church,
they do whatever they want.
- Tell the guy to hit record
at least.
- You know what?
Bob, go ahead and hit record.
I do have a few questions
for you.
- Okay.
- As a standard action,
we did pull
your mother's tax return.
- Oh, I'm not here for that.
- And we've got some questions
for you.
- [distorted voice]
No comment.
- $1,000 for a backpack?
- I don't have a backpack.
- Capital-gains loss
on an ice-cream truck?
- I plead the fifth.
- Claiming a masseuse
named Tina as a dependent?
- As I understand it,
if she's sucking my dad's dong,
she's draining our finances.
- Whoa, yes.
Well, we got it on tape.
- [normal voice] What?
- You're a brave kid, Tom.
Not a lot of kids are willing
to rat on their own mom
like you just did.
- Money, money,
money all the time ♪
What I'm thinkin' 'bout ♪
[knock on window]
Bitches on my mind
all the time ♪
- Hi, ma'am.
Can we have a quick word
with you?
- Oh, is this
about my tax refund?
- You think I'd come tap
on your window about a refund?
No, it's about tax evasion.
Your son just ratted on you.
- Um, I don't have a son.
I don't know
what you're talking about.
Bye.
[engine turning over]
- Remember
there's more road ♪
And places to go ♪
Patterns to contemplate ♪
More people to fornicate ♪
And remember
there's a lot of good omens ♪
Supplying the proof ♪
That our life
is the best joke ever told ♪
Remember it's a joke
and leave it alone ♪
Let go and try to be
always abiding ♪
Remember if there's
one good reason for dying ♪
The sweet silver lining ♪
Through you she lives on ♪
And therein lies a truth
we can sip when we want ♪
Disciples of the flow,
we can float anywhere ♪
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