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Hey, lady.
It's been a while.
Oh. Ooh.
- Hi. - Hey.
- Name's Jean. - I know who you are.
Holy shit.
Oh.
Norm, honey, I'm a lesbian.
And you're what they call asexual.
Yeah?
Right, so, um...
I want Sam to move in with me.
Well, us, really, because I don't want you to move out.
We'd like you to live at the house.
That is, if you're willing to accept
that Sam and I are now together.
Yep.
Hey, hey. What's the matter?
Well, all my dreams are coming true.
Oh. Yeah.
I figure I'll put you guys in the spare room,
and, uh, Norm can sleep out on the couch.
Uh, he's sleeping with me.
Wow, really?
I had no idea you guys were such libertines.
No, Sam'll be in with Norm because of my snoring.
If I've gone this long without a penis inside me,
I don't think Norm's is gonna break the streak.
So I'm glad you invited us out.
It gives me an excuse to visit this part of the country.
I love it here, so I assume you hate it
for some reason.
Yeah, Jean, central Florida was once nothing
but swamp land, mosquitoes, and the last remnants
of a decimated Seminole tribe.
Back in the 1920s,
in order to lure tourists away from the beaches,
the local hucksters began building
a lot of places of low character
like, uh, greyhound dog tracks and live mermaid shows
and alligator farms, initiating the rube stampede
to this incubator of butt sweat,
continuing into the turbulent '60s,
all culminating in 1971
when the greatest huckster of them all...
Mr. Walt Disney... decided to play God
with his... his simulacrum of G-rated Babylon.
And that is when the millions upon millions of folks started
flocking to this rancid cum gutter.
We're going to Disney World on Thursday.
Don't worry. We didn't get you a ticket.
But I did get you something for paying for my surgery.
Oh, Jean, you should have,
'cause that shit was
way more expensive than I thought it was gonna be.
What have you always dreamed of?
Pleasuring myself orally.
No, I'm just gonna cut to the chase.
I have reconnected with Mom.
We're having lunch with her tomorrow.
Our mom?
How, uh... how the hell did you find her?
I'm getting really good at Facebook.
I finally tracked her down by putting in her name.
She was so excited to hear from me.
She wants to see both of us.
Jean, Lorraine abandoned
the both of us when we were children.
I mean, you sure you wan to invite somebody like that
back into your life? 'Cause I do not.
If my relationship with Sam has taught me anything,
it's that you have to take risks to find happiness.
I mean, sure, it might be scary, but it's so worth it.
All right, well, I-I'll do it for you.
But definitely not for her.
You know, two years ago
if you'd told me I would be excited
to visit my brother with my "throuple" and my new vagina...
the most surprising part would be wanting to see you.
Oh, well, thank you, Jean.
I have a few thoughts of my own about the current moment.
Yeah, no. Don't know, don't care.
Me and Sam are gonna go have sex.
- Oh. - Come on, baby.
Time to ride the jelly wagon.
Okay.
I guess I just wasn't cut out to be a wife...
or a mother.
And your father certainly never made it easier for me...
But I never should have left you with him.
I... I'll never, ever forgive myself for that.
We all make mistakes, Mom.
I know I've made my share.
Jim, you certainly have your regrets, right?
Oh, my goodness.
I mean, I once blacked out and woke up
dancing at a Steely Dan concert.
No, no, that one... that one returns to me
in my darkest moments.
Gee, Mom, shouldn't you be hitting the road?
Very long drive back to Valdosta.
No, I've got me a room at the Red Roof Inn.
You know where the 92 meets the 570?
- Oh, God, this is hot. - Oh, here.
Let me help you.
Oh, you sweet girl.
I have got to tinkle.
Another thing that's fun again, thanks to you.
All my dreams are coming true.
All right, you can cut the shit.
Oh, come on, Jimmy.
Ain't you happy to see your long-lost mama?
I thought we had an agreement
that you would stay away from Jean.
God, she's about as dull as a butter knife.
"Tinkle"? Jesus Christ.
Yeah, she doesn't know about us, okay?
God damn it, I'm just... I'm trying not to screw up anymore.
Oh, well, good luck with that.
- Can I top you off? - No.
- Hey, I'm sober now. - Oh.
- Actually been 14 months. - Oh.
So you think it's gonna last.
Well, that makes it even better.
Can we just get to it, please?
- What's the angle? - Smart boy.
I need a favor.
Oh, what do the Russians want now?
Oh, I don't work for them anymore.
They have a terrible ageism problem.
Yeah, and you can't exactly call HR
on Sergei the Face Slasher,
which is a weird name for him because he just shot everyone
and not necessarily in the face.
Don't care.
Yeah, and I may be getting older.
But let's face it.
I'm keeping it tight for my age.
Yeah, when I throw a fuck at someone,
it don't hit the floor.
Jesus, Mom.
I'm working for the Armenians now.
Now, that's a group who has real respect for their elders.
Must come from surviving the holocaust
'cause the Jews have it, too.
Jesus Chri... You're exhausting.
Do you know that?
Everything is a digression wrapped in a tangent.
Holy shit. I get that from you.
Here's the play.
With legalized sports betting,
there's a flood of dumb money coming in,
which will push the lines all over the place.
A smart person with inside information can make a killing.
Ma, I'm gonna stop you right there, okay? 'Cause I'm out.
No, the only thing you can't do in baseball is bet on baseball.
Hall of Fame is filled with cheaters and racists
and wife beaters, but not one human being
who ever gambled on the game.
You don't have to do anything.
Just get your sweet little old mother into the locker room
so she can ask a few questions.
I've got a kid at MIT who's running the analytics.
The Armenians are the bank.
You wet your beak. Everybody wins.
No, the money's not the issue, okay?
It's the whole "getting banned from baseball" aspect
that is slowing my roll here.
Hey, I did you a favor. I'm calling in my marker.
You know, I think time might have inflated the magnitude
of this favor in your mind.
Yeah, you got me a job calling cockfights.
You didn't tell me I'd have to bury the loser.
'Cause that shit... that takes its...
takes its toll.
Okay, have it your way.
Oh, by the way,
you should be the one who tells your sister
about the secret relationship you've had
with the mother she's been craving all these years,
'cause if I have to do it, I'm gonna be real mean about it.
Well, you are one vicious and brutal cun...
fusing menu.
I mean, there's a whole page
of specials in here. I don't even see it.
So where are we headed to next?
Um, you know, Mom wanted to see where I work.
So we're gonna do a little mother-son trip
out to the ball park, if you don't mind.
Mind? This is what I wanted for you.
I couldn't have pictured
this day going any better.
Me either.
Uh, hey, everybody.
I want to introduce you to my mom...
Mrs. Lorraine Brockmire.
- Mom... - Well, this is first time
that I've been to a baseball stadium
since Jim's father passed away.
I didn't really care much for the game,
when I was younger.
I had to learn it from Jim Senior
when he was teaching little Jimmy.
I would overhear them playing catch,
you know, every night,
outside my open kitchen window.
It's been...
It's been hard for me to watch it alone, you know?
I'm so sorry.
Look at me... just carrying on like this.
- Please forgive me. - Jesus Christ.
No, hey. It's... It's fine.
Ma'am, it's fine. I'm uh... I'm Lance...
- Kuchar. - I know who you are, Kooch.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
It's so good to meet... God, what a grip.
Oh, it feels like that's a blister on your pitching hand.
How often do you get these?
How would you like to meet the other guys?
More than I can say.
All right, let's see what I can do here.
Carlos, this is Lorraine, Jim's mom.
She's divorcing me....
Because she found texts from some girl
that I barely even cheated with.
- Oh, you poor thing. - I can't eat.
I can't sleep. I'm freaking out.
My agent's got me booked with some therapist next week.
Oh, don't see a therapist.
They put these awful thoughts in your head.
You stuff this all down. Numb yourself.
They don't drug-test for alcohol.
Okay, Mom.
We... we bothered these nice gentlemen for long enough.
It's time for us to go.
Thank you, Kooch.
See you, fellas.
Come on, Mom.
Well, my work is done here.
Kooch is ripe for a mental breakdown.
- Shh. - Well, I have "Incepted" him.
Oh, you would like that movie, you monster.
So next weekend I'll head up to Lakeland with you.
Oh, no, no, no, next weekend.
You got what you wanted. Now just...
leave us alone. We're done.
Listen, you don't kill the golden goose
just as it's starting to lay eggs.
You help me out with this, I'll continue to play
the doting mother to Jean
until she dies...
because she's definitely going before me.
Have you seen how she eats?
Who orders loaded tots for brunch?
This is extortion.
Nobody's breaking any legs.
It's a little emotional violence, that's all.
It's family, you know.
Hey.
Boy, you weren't kidding about her snoring.
- That shit is deafening. - Hmm.
And evocative.
I always picture a slaughterhouse
for wild animals.
Well, I probably couldn't have slept much, anyway.
Been a weird day.
I can only imagine.
Must be life-altering to see your mom after 50 years.
Is it life-altering?
I mean, no, she's basically a stranger.
If she were to disappear tomorrow,
due to a disagreement with, say,
a powerful Armenian man,
who'd really care?
Jean would. That's who.
Look, this is a-a huge deal for her.
You know... The first time
I made her come so hard, she cried...
Whoa, the first time?
That implies this was a frequent occurrence.
Hey, when you got five good friends like this,
you betcha.
Okay.
Oh, lesbians are the goddamn best.
Anyway, I'm sorry.
You made her come so hard, she cried.
Please continue.
Yeah, well, and in that emotional space,
she talked a lot about your mother...
how she'd never gotten over being abandoned...
that she's always felt broken and unlovable.
And then Norm and I just held her.
Norm was there?
We sleep in the same room.
Twin beds. He mostly reads.
Well, you're definitely the best thing
that's ever happened to my sister.
Seriously, I have never seen her so happy.
You know, she told me that when you're living a lie,
even the happy moments are sad,
because deep down, you know it's bullshit.
This is the hardest thing I've ever had to say.
I'm going to Disney World.
It is not hyperbole to say that that was my Vietnam.
When I close my eyes, I can still hear the screams.
- Of happy children? - Yeah, you hear them, too?
I'm still glad you came.
We got our first picture together in 20 years.
Can't wait to go to Kinko's and have somebody explain
how to put it on Facebook so Mom can see it.
Jean, that's kind of why I wanted to walk with you.
Um, you know how Mom seems like
this sweet little old lady?
Well, in actuality, uh...
Mom was this cutthroat Mafia foot soldier
who spent most of our lives working in organized crime.
I don't understand.
Yeah, I should probably back up.
Uh, at one point in our nation's history,
Kansas City actually had the most powerful Mafia.
Its geographical isolation allowed it to consolidate power
and to avoid the infighting that characterized
the New York and Chicago underworld.
You're pulling my leg. I'm supposed
to believe that our mother...
that sweet little old lady in the Anne Murray shirt...
is some mobster who killed people?
Well, she wasn't a button man, no.
Now, did she act as a honey pot to lure unsuspecting me
into secluded locations to be shot by her coworkers?
- Almost definitely. - I mean, you're serious?
Yeah, I'm serious.
We haven't seen her since we were kids.
How would you know any of this?
All right, Jean, I'm gonna tell you something else.
And when I do, I want you to keep in mind
that we weren't close for a very long time,
and I'm a much better person now,
who just spent the last seven hours
waiting on very long lines with you
for fake experiences and $12 churros.
How do you know?
Jean, Mom came back into my life when I was 18 years old.
She offered to pay for my college,
if I kept it from you.
I thought you had
a Division-I broadcast scholarship.
Yeah, that's not a thing that actually exists, Jean.
So this whole time... you knew her?
You got to have a mother?
Well, now, Jean, I would not say that.
No, there's not a maternal bone in her body.
Most of the time we met up at underground casinos
and dog tracks.
Jean, I once saw her shoot a greyhound
as a lesson to the other greyhounds.
Oh, Jean, are you crying?
You wouldn't by any chance just be having an orgasm, would you?
Jim, why didn't she want to know me?
Oh, you know, who can say?
You, you can say,
because you know everything about her.
You've known everything about her all along.
This is not a door you want to knock on.
Open the fucking door!
All right.
Mom doesn't respect you, okay?
When she looks at you, she sees the daughter
of a man who drove a bread truck.
Look, I should have told you. I was trying to protect you.
I'm so sorry. I mean, you're tough as nails.
You do not see the angles, Jean.
Mom would have played you like a fiddle.
She would have. In fact, she just did.
You were always a terrible brother.
Always thought you were smarter.
Never even pretended to like Norm.
But I always tried to move past it
because you were the only family I had.
But now I know I have no family.
I was raised in a nest of vipers.
Just... here.
You keep that as a memory of the last time you saw me.
Thanks for saving me the trip the Kinko's!
Now, Jean, come on. You don't mean that, Jean.
Jean, look, you can scan this kind of thing on your phone.
There's literally no reason to ever set foot in a Kinko's!
Jean?
Did you hear what I said about Kinko's?
Oh, God damn.
You... you turned little Joaquin?
Kid's a player.
He chiseled me out of a percentage.
You look like you could use a drink.
- I told Jean. - Oh, I know.
She flamed me last night on my fake Facebook page.
My fake friends were horrified.
Uh, you and me are done, okay?
I mean forever.
So you would throw away millions of dollars for Jean?
- Yeah. - Jean doesn't matter.
Nothing matters.
You always say that. Can I tell you something?
It's real bullshit. You know why?
Everything matters.
It matters that you left us when we were kids.
It matters that Dad was an alcoholic piece of shit.
And it matters that Jean tried to protect me from him.
You just let all this stuff live in your head, don't you?
No wonder you got the yips.
Oh, not talking about that with you.
I mean, really. Jesus, there are only nine possible counts.
You think you would have gotten one of them by accident.
Okay.
You'll be a lot better when this morality phase is over.
It's not a phase. I'm changing.
Oh, yeah? No, you're not.
- No, I am. - No, you're not.
- Yes, I am. - Listen,
I know your dirty little secret, honey.
Oh, what's that?
You like that I picked you,
'cause it meant that you weren't ordinary like her.
We're special, you and I.
That's why all these idiots will always be our pawns.
Listen, I was put on this earth to raise hell.
And that very same blood is running through your veins.
So why don't you just stop pretending to be nice?
Enjoy yourself.
And for God sakes, honey, stay out of the sun.
Your eyes look like two assholes
floating in tomato soup.
Hey, uh, I really need to talk to you.
Oh, boy.
Caught the first flight down.
- Wow. - Yeah.
I have one question.
Who told you to admit the truth to Jean?
Nobody. I just did it.
Should I not have?
I mean, I-I just couldn't stand to see Lorraine
smiling right into her face and laughing at her
behind her back... I had to tell Jean, even...
Even if it meant losing her.
Jim...
that's amazing.
I had no idea you were doing this well.
Doing well?
I just lost the only family I had left...
I mean, apart from Clemenza.
He's my 100-year-old pet tortoise.
You're just gonna keep on getting weirder and weirder
the older you get, huh?
It is looking that way, yeah.
I mean, this is the first unselfish act
you've done since I've known you.
Yeah, well, so far, becoming a good person feels a whole lot
like I open wide and the entire world shits in my mouth.
Yep, that's pretty much it.
This world does not reward kindness.
Then what is the point?
Being a good person is the best way
to attract other good people and,
make sure they stick around.
If you keep going down this path,
your sister will come back...
just like I did.
Thank you, Charles.
And now that I know about your mom,
this whole "Godfather" obsession
makes so much more sense.
No, no, no. I just...
I love those movies 'cause they're the two best ever made.
And your absent mother who worked in organized crime
didn't have something to do with it?
Comparing the KC Mob
to the Five Families of New York
just shows your ignorance, Charles, you know what?
I'm gonna put on part one right now.
I'm gonna talk over it the whole time.
You're gonna see how wrong you are.
Sure thing, Jim.
Sounds great.
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