Wilfred s03e07 Episode Script

- Hey.
Sleep any better last night? - Not really.
I ended up watching a Scooby-Doo marathon on Cartoon Network.
Well, did the doorbell wake you up? I didn't hear it.
Who was it? He didn't say, but he's waiting for you in your office.
Can I help you? Dad.
So, this is what your life has come to.
Quite a place you've made down here for yourself.
What are you doing here? I've tried to give you your space, but your behavior has become too erratic to ignore.
Visiting a brothel with your infant nephew.
Taking your mentally unstable mother on a reckless road trip.
Kristen had no business telling you about that.
I don't need to depend on your sister to keep tabs on you.
She doesn't even know your darkest secrets.
But I do.
Simulating sex with a stuffed giraffe in front of an eight-year-old boy.
Defecating in your neighbor's boots.
- How do you know about - Your suicide attempt.
Wilfred.
What about Wilfred? It's just a dog.
He can't talk to you.
I know that.
It's time to get honest, Ryan.
I- I think you should leave.
Let me help you.
I don't need anything from you.
I'm not the bad guy, Ryan.
Hey.
Sleep any better last night? Um not really.
I'm barely sleeping at all, but being awake is better than the dreams I've been having.
That's too bad.
You're distracting my subject, Ryan.
Sorry.
Oh, I don't mind him in here.
Although it is weird how dogs like to just sit there and watch you shit.
I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd actually just seen my dad.
It was creepy how real it felt.
I had a dream like that once.
I had a dream that the nation rose up to live out its true creed, that in the state of Alabama little black boys and girls were able to hold hands with little white boys and girls and walk together as brother and sister.
It was creepy how real it felt.
Well whatever.
I don't know why I'm dwelling on it it was only a dream.
Dreams are meaningful, Ryan.
Have you ever felt like part of your mind is trying to tell you something? No.
What's that like? It's like an intuition, like a cry for help from your subconscious.
I don't need help; I need sleep.
What you need is to listen to your gut.
And speaking of guts, check out this photo of Anne.
It takes guts to look at your own wipe like that.
Oh, God.
Why are dogs so fascinated by watching people shit? Because we're students, Ryan.
Students of human nature.
A person's fecal expulsion technique can teach you a lot about them.
Like what? Well, for example, look at Jenna.
Legs crossed, hands folded, refined turd- pinching posture.
She's classy.
And not just classy but a long list of synonyms that also mean classy.
You're gonna make my bush look terrible.
There's not a damn thing wrong with my eyes, Margot! Yeah, well, the state of California disagrees! Trouble in paradise.
Could've told you that.
She and Gene have been having serious problems.
Oh, God.
- Th-That's Margot.
How did you? - Look at her, Ryan.
See the pain in her face? That's the strain of marital discord poisoning her peace of mind.
Or she's just taking a shit.
Beans.
Beans.
J-Beans.
J- Bizzle.
Beazy! Aw, h-he can't hear me.
He must have his earbuds in.
Hey, Jellybeans.
Aw, cute bandana.
Yeah, it's really working.
Uh-oh.
There he goes.
Look at him.
Impeccable form of the back arch.
Slightly trembling knees.
Pinch-point sharp as a dagger.
He's perfect and he knows it.
As a doctor, ethically and legally I'm not allowed to give these to you.
So just think of me as a sister with easy access to really good drugs.
Thank you.
You're a lifesaver.
Just promise me that these will be your last resort.
Try getting up and taking a walk first.
I promise.
You know, you need to figure out the cause of your insomnia, Ryan.
In the absence of jet lag, too much caffeine? Drug use? Okay, well, then that just leaves stress.
Well, I have been having dreams about Dad.
Mmm.
Weird dreams.
- Sex dreams? - What? - No.
- Don't bite my head off.
I'm just trying to help.
Well, you know, maybe it's time you two talked.
- You may feel less stressed.
- I have nothing to say to him.
- Ryan - You know what? I- I'm too exhausted to be having this conversation right now.
Come on, Wilfred.
Let's go.
Well, you should come over for Sunday brunch, bring some champagne.
We'll just hang out, drink mimosas.
I promise not to talk about Dad.
Okay.
Thanks again.
I hope these work.
Oh, they will.
One of those and I'm out for eight hours.
Doesn't matter how loud the baby cries.
Do you smell it, too, Ryan? Smell what? The stench of death.
It's over here.
No, I don't sm Whoa.
I do smell something.
That's disgusting.
It's a a hot dog from 7-Eleven.
It probably fell out of Gene's trash can.
The death smell isn't coming from that.
It's coming from that.
Ryan! Ryan! Ryan.
You have got to see this.
Let me guess.
Mrs.
Patel took a shit? No! Well, yeah.
It was long and painful.
It was one of those shits that had, like, a bird beak.
But that's not it.
Take a look at this.
It's a toilet.
An empty toilet.
Margot missed her 8:45 a.
m.
shit.
She goes at 8:45 every morning so she's done in time for the 9:00 reruns of A Man Called Hawk.
- Maybe she went earlier.
- You don't get it.
Something's happened to Margot.
Now look at this.
So? So, look at him.
He's closing the curtains.
He's hiding something.
Nice try.
What does that mean? I know you, Wilfred.
This is some kind of elaborate mind game to I don't know get a new squeak toy.
Look, I-I don't know what you're up to, but I'm too tired to care.
Look at the facts, Ryan.
Gene and his wife are having marital problems.
Gene buries something in the middle of the night.
The next morning Margot is missing.
Do the math.
It all adds up to murder.
Yeah.
That's much more likely than an old guy doing a little late night gardening 'cause he couldn't sleep.
Look, I have to get some champagne for Kristen's brunch.
I always listen to my gut, Ryan.
My gut never lies and right now my gut is telling me murder.
Okay, I went a little bit big on that, murder.
Ryan, hey, thanks for coming.
- You didn't bring Wilfred, did you? - No, I-I thought Great.
Come on in.
- Let's get this over with.
- Jenna? Uncle Larry? What are you doing here? Wha What is this? What-What's going on? Ryan, um, we're all here because we love you.
I'll go first.
Is this an intervention? Ryan, you haven't been yourself lately.
You've been avoiding me.
I can't believe this shit.
Look, I-I'm just tired, okay? I haven't been sleeping well.
It's more serious than that.
The way you've been abusing marijuana, the bizarre attachment you have to Wilfred.
Dad thinks that when you stopped working for him Dad?! Wa-Was this his idea? Yes, Ryan.
I asked everyone to come.
I only did it because I care about you.
Since when? I've always had your best interests at heart.
- This is for your own good.
- Bullshit.
I've arranged for you to get the help you need.
Dave will make sure you get there safely.
I'm not going anywhere with him.
- You need help! - No! I don't need anything from you! Oh, Ryan, I'm not the bad guy! You're gonna want to see this.
I was in Gene's front yard, going totally ballistic on his azaleas for no reason whatsoever, which I often do, and he chases me away.
Now why do you suppose he did that? Because he likes his azaleas? Open your eyes, Ryan.
He doesn't want me digging up his wife.
Give it up, Wilfred.
I know you're just stringing me along because you want to get something.
Is this a dream? It's Gene! What the hell? Wilfred, for the last time, Gene didn't kill Is that Margot's housecoat? Covered in blood.
Murder.
Shit.
I went too cartoony with it that time.
I totally overcorrected.
Gene's panicked.
He's moving the body.
We've got to follow him, Ryan.
It's too late.
We'll never catch up.
Nah, we'll definitely catch up.
Why did you do it, Gene? Where are you going? And why has your blinker been on for the past ten miles? Just turn left already.
Jesus.
I can't believe it.
Gene actually killed his wife.
I told you.
My gut never lies.
You're a regular Scooby-Doo.
What the hell?! You called me the S-word.
That's the most racist character ever created.
"Ruh-roh!" Wh-Who talks like that? And Scooby's constant need for Scooby Snacks.
Like all dogs think about is food? It's a goddamn minstrel show! - Okay, I'm sorry.
- And in the end, every villain gets unmasked and gives a detailed confession of his whole plan.
Like Scoob couldn't have figured it out himself 'cause he's such a "ridiot.
" And don't even get me started on Scooby-Dum.
I'll lose my shit.
Geez.
I'm sorry I brought it up.
So you should be.
It's offensive.
He's stopping.
Cut the engine.
Cut the engine.
What's he doing? What's he gonna get in the trunk? This is some freaky shit, man.
There she is.
Oh, my God.
Holy shit.
No body, no murder.
Oh.
Now do you believe me? Wait.
Wilfred! Goddamn it.
Wilfred! Wilfred! What are you doing? Oh, no! Wilfred! Wilfred! Oh, no.
Wilfred! What? I thought you had drowned.
Nah.
Just trying to save the evidence, but I couldn't find it.
Water felt good, though.
Um I'm calling the cops on Gene.
Listen, this was my bust.
Let me make the call.
I'll do the talking.
I still can't believe that sweet old man is - Standing on your front porch? - What? Hello, Ryan.
Hey, Gene.
H- How's it going? Not too good, Ryan.
Stay cool.
My gut tells me he doesn't know anything.
I know you followed me.
He's bluffing.
Gene, you-you need to turn yourself in.
Can't you just give me another chance? It was an accident.
- You're a murderer.
- I know, but what's done is done.
Can't we just pretend it never happened? What would Margot say to that? Gene! What the hell are you doing out here? Get your wrinkly ass back to bed.
Hi, Ryan.
Hi, Margot.
Margot can't know about this.
She can't? I failed my vision test, and the DMV took my license away.
If Margot finds out I was driving, she'll kill me.
See, I needed some bug spray for my azaleas.
I was only gonna drive there and back.
And then this-this dog ran out of nowhere You hit a dog.
Poor thing.
I wrapped it in my, in my wife's housecoat.
I tried to give him a decent burial in my backyard, but then Wilfred started scratching at the fence, so I had to dump the body.
I'll never drive again, I promise.
Please don't tell Margot, hmm? Yeah.
Sure.
Thanks, Ryan.
I appreciate it.
He's bluffing.
I should have taken these two days ago.
Those are probably sugar pills.
What are you talking about? The last time Kristen gave you meds, they were placebos, so why would she give you the real thing this time? Yeah, but I think she trusts me now.
Well, listen to your gut, I guess.
What about your gut? You say it's always right, but Gene killed a dog, not his wife.
Yeah.
I guess we were wrong about that.
You were wrong.
My gut was telling me you were up to something.
Ryan, for the last time A dog from the neighborhood was killed.
How could you not know that? I've been busy.
Maybe.
Or maybe it was a dog you didn't like.
It's a really nice day.
I- I think I'm gonna go for a walk.
You did know! It was Jellybeans.
What? You're really reaching now, mate.
Oh, yeah? Then where did you get his bandana? Okay! You got me! I took it off Beans' body when I dove into the river.
You set up Gene to kill Jellybeans! Yes! It's true! I was over at Gene's when I heard him and his wife arguing about his eyesight.
When he decided to ignore his wife and drive to get bug spray, I knew exactly what to do.
I knew Jellybeans had a weakness for bouncing tennis balls, so I tossed one in front of Gene's car.
He never knew what hit him.
It was the perfect plan.
And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kid! You killed Jellybeans for his bandana.
You're a monster.
I did it because of you, Ryan.
You drove me to it.
The way you went on and on about that bandana! - I said it was cute.
- Exactly.
What was I supposed to do not kill him for his bandana? "Don't forget the champagne.
" Shit.
Kristen's brunch.
I totally forgot.
I don't have time to deal with this.
Oh, God, I took those sleeping pills.
That's okay.
The mimosa will take the edge off.
Let's go.
You're not invited.
I knew you were up to something.
You're missing the point, Ryan, as usual.
Oh, really? What's the point? Your gut was right about me, but you ignored it.
You keep ignoring it.
It's reaching out to you from your subconscious, through your dreams.
You should listen to it.
There's nothing to listen to.
Ryan? It's good to see you.
What are you doing here? Grocery shopping.
Maria has the weekend off.
I needed a few things.
This is a dream.
Are you okay? Go away.
Now, come on, Ryan.
I think this has gone on long enough.
Oh! Jesus, Ryan, what is wrong with you? - It's okay.
He's my son.
- I'm fine! None of this is real.
You're not real.
- You need help.
- I don't need help! You're not real.
None of this is real! Ryan! Ryan!