Shameless (American TV series)/Season 11


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Shameless (2011–2021) is an American television drama series, airing on Showtime, about the dysfunctional family of Frank Gallagher, a single father of six children. While he spends his days drunk, his kids learn to take care of themselves. The series premiered on January 9, 2011 and concluded on April 11, 2021.

Season 11

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This is Chicago! [11.01]

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Frank voice over: [A montage of archival historical footage] Chicago, the city of broad shoulders, the Windy City, a city with a multitude of voices, languages, and a vibrant history. From the four corners of the Earth, people come to the city on the lake to work and help create a truly modern metropolis. Yep, from all four corners of the Earth, all right. Polacks and krauts and dagos and the lowest of the low, the Irish... starving spud famine refugees, like us Gallaghers. Every important moment in Chicago history, a Gallagher was there. The Chicago Fire, Mrs. O'Leary's cow, that was Great-Great-Grandma Gallagher's Holstein. The union stockyard workers, the poor bastards butchering 6,000 steers a day, covered in blood and shit, all Gallaghers. The Black Sox score-fixing scandal, a Gallagher. No, he wasn't a player. He was a gambler. Set the whole thing up. Made a bundle. Prohibition, Capone, you think it was all Italians? Hell no. It was Gallaghers that provided the homicidal muscle. The riots at the Democratic Convention in '68, yep, that was me. Part of the Chicago Eight.
Alan: [Scene cuts to present with Alan holding boom mike] The Chicago Eight? I thought it was the Chicago Seven.
Frank voice over: It was eight. I was at a White Castle getting burgers for Abbie and the guys when the pigs broke in. So they only took seven and put 'em on trial. Where we're standing, right here, on Ashland Avenue, there were 20 bars on this block 100 years ago, each and every one of 'em owned by a Gallagher. Now we got three hipster coffee shops. It was seven before the COVID took down the weak. Chinamen did us a favor with that virus. Who the hell needs seven coffee shops? Hey, do you know why they call this part of the South Side back of the Yards?
Alan: Sure, it was right behind the...
Frank voice over: No, no, not because it was behind the stockyards, because it was the back of the Gallagher yards. Every single house owned by a Gallagher.
Alan: Is any of this true?
Frank: "Is any of this true"?! The Gallaghers built Chicago single-handedly. Come on, I'll take you to Leavitt Street. I'll show you the tenement where Paddy Gallagher wrote The Jungle.

[Lip and Tami are woken up by Freddie]
Lip: Oh, no, no. Let him cry. He's teething. [Tami groans] The hell does he need teeth for anyway?
Tami: I don't know. [Groans]
Lip: We could drug him.
Tami: Break up a downer or something.
Lip: Frank used to rub whiskey on our gums. [Tami laughs] Then he'd dump us in the tub.
Tami: Without water, I hope.
Lip: Not always.
Tami: [Sighs] I think I'm gonna die. [Lip laughs] Can you die from lack of sleep? Oh, my God. Okay. [Gets up and pats Lip's leg] I'll get him. You start coffee.

Veronica: Why are you shaving your head?
Kevin: 'Cause I'm goin' bald.
Veronica: But you're bald now, Kev.
Kevin: Exactly. Now no one will know I was going bald. Science.

Kevin: Isn't this exciting? Legal weed in Chicago? Can you believe it? Remember Diego, my roommate from the group home, the one with the glass eye? He got 20 years. Now we can just sell it right out in the open.
Veronica: Not out in the open. We're not licensed yet. And we're supposed to be closed anyway.

Frank: You see that house with the "For Sale" sign? The Sons of Columbus burned a cross in the yard the first night the Jacksons moved in. But the Jacksons were tough. Used to be sharecroppers in Alabama. A racist bonfire didn't scare them. Mr. Jackson died of the 'VID last spring. He was a janitor over at Mercy. [Holds up almost empty slurpee cup] Getting a little dry here, laddie. [Alan rummages in backpack and holds up a bottle of J&B whiskey] My memory elixir! Hey... thanks for caring for what I have to say, by the way.
Alan: Well, you're the only person who responded to my flyer. [Frank laughs]
Frank: [Reads off bus stop bench] "Units start as low as $170,000". [To Alan] Time was, you could've bought a whole block down here for that much money. Everything's changing. The Prius crowd is moving in, taking advantage of the folks who lost their jobs in the Corona hoax. Let's go over by the park. I'll show you where the best crack house in Chicago used to be, see if any of the old gang's still around.

Go Home, Gentrifier! [11.02]

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Carl: [At kitchen table cleaning gun before flashback scenes] Hey, back up. What do I look like, the information lady? Hell, no. I'm a law enforcement officer, emphasis on the enforcement. You need to know what happened last week on Shameless? [Aims gun at viewer] Better go find someone who actually gives a shit.

Carl: [Jogging down street says to three youths in doorway] Watch out, crackheads! Coming back for you later! [To attempting auto thief] Making a mental note of your face, shitbag! [To three women] Watch it, ladies! Might haul your asses down to the station! Yeah, that's right! You're looking at the po-po! First day on the job!

Franny: [Knocking on bedroom doors] My birthday! Wake up! Wake up! I'm five!
Lip: [Franny comes down stairs] Hey, hey. Look who it is. The birthday girl.
Franny: [Sniffles, sighs] Presents?
Lip: Oh, no, no. It's not like Christmas, Franny. You're gonna get your presents tonight at your party. Oh. Hey. [Picks up Franny and carries her to kitchen] Come on. Let's go make some breakfast, huh? Whoof! Go sit! Yo, what up?
Liam: Why'd you guys sleep here last night?
Lip: Oh, the fumes at our new place from resurfacing the bathtub.
Liam: Good morning, Franny. Happy birthday.
Franny: Thank you.
Lip: These up for grabs?
Liam: No, don't touch.
Lip: Why?
Liam: I'm gonna sell them for cheap to the lunch debt kids.
Lip: What's a lunch debt kid?
Liam: Kids who run out of money on their food account. Can't eat the hot lunch till they pay up.
Lip: Is that even legal? Don't public schools have to feed the kids?
Liam: Yeah, but the lunch lady serves them gross shit like stale bread, government cheese, chunky pudding.
Lip: So you're capitalizing on the misfortunes of others by selling them your peanut butter sandwiches?
Liam: The American way. See you.
Debbie: Hey, there's my sweet birthday princess! Who is five today?!
Franny: Me!
Debbie: You?! [Tickles her] Ah!
Sandy: I don't know! She looks like a big girl. Did you grow overnight? Are you sure you're not 15?
Franny: I am! I am!
Sandy: Yeah, I knew you were.
Debbie: Are you excited for your princess party?
Franny: I hate princesses!
Debbie: What?! No, you don't!
Sandy: I'm with Frans on this one.

Ian: Hey, hey, hey, birthday Franny. Hey, look what I got you from work. They let us keep stuff if it's past its expiration date. There's so much stuff that just gets thrown away into a dumpster.
Mickey: Oh, great job, man. Free old cereal.
Ian: [Carl comes in door] 5-0!
Lip: Oh, fuck, it's the cops!
Tami: Hey, I'm unarmed! Don't shoot!
Sandy: Don't shoot!
Carl: Ha, ha, ha, very funny, assholes. Now, if you'll excuse me, Imma go load these bad boys up with armor-piercing rounds so I can keep the mean streets safe for fuck-heads like you guys. Watch out, Chicago! You're going down!

Kevin: Hey, Tommy.
Tommy: Kev. Kermit.
Kermit: Tommy.
Kevin: Why are you two sitting so far apart from each other?
Kermit: Social distancing.
Tommy: Take a beer, Kev.
Kevin: Yeah, sure, of course.
Veronica: [On phone] Okay, call me when you have more. [To Kevin] Elijah from the dispensary doesn't have weed either, Kev.
Kevin: Shit.
Veronica: Whole city's run out. Another symptom of economic anxiety: everyone's self-medicating. Why are you two sitting apart?
Tommy: No reason.
Kermit: Nothing.
Kevin: [Quietly to Veronica] I think they're having a fight.
Veronica: A fight?! About what?!
Kevin: Saying something under your breath means "keep it quiet."
Frank: Hello! I'm here.
Kevin: Oh, Frank! You gotta use the secret knock.
Frank: Oh, sorry. Top of the morning to you. So what you got for me to sample today in the wonderful world of weed, Master Kev, Mistress V? [Sits between Tommy and Kermit] What are... why are you guys sitting so far apart? One of you fart or something?
Kevin: Just because.
Tommy: Stop asking.
Frank: Jesus, fine. Sit in your own stank, for all I care.
Veronica: They won't tell us either.
Frank: Oh. [Noticing turning display empty] Where are the goods?
Veronica: Sold out.
Frank: Impressive.
Veronica: But our suppliers are out of product now.
Kevin: Ever since the 'rona, there's been a rush on weed.
Veronica: They were not prepared for the demand. Everyone's out.
Tommy: It's a blessing in disguise. Pot is dangerous.
Kermit: Amen to that.
Frank: [Repeatedly] No... That's impossible. There's no such thing as a rush on weed. It's in abundance.
Veronica: There's three different dispensaries we use for our product. They're all out.
Frank: Dispensaries? You know what kind of a markup they've got? I can get you more product.
Kevin: Where?
Veronica: Yeah, illegal shit.
Frank: Marijuana's basically just a weed. The government has no more right to regulate it than they do sunflowers.
Tommy: Or making us wear masks.
Frank: Exactly! Don't worry. I can get you more product. We can go in on this together, partners.

Frances Francis Franny Frank [11.03]

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Debbie: [Before flashback scenes] You again? [Scoffs] You really wanna know what happened last week on Shameless? The same old shit as last week. When you work for a living, the weeks just seem to blur together, you know what I mean? [Hands beer bottle to Frannie who drinks up and Debbie sighs] Don't judge me. It's not like she wouldn't be drinking by the third grade growing up in this neighborhood. Go.

Debbie: Just put on the dress, Franny!
Frannie: [Repeatedly] No, no, no!
Debbie: I need to take your picture for Little Miss South Side. Don't you want to be Little Miss South Side?
Franny: No!
Debbie: Dress. Pants! Dress! Pants! Can you at least brush your own teeth?
Franny: [Repeatedly] No...! [Runs out and Debbie sighs]

Lip: Your room is gonna be swimming in constellations, little man. Like Cassiopeia. Can you say...
Tami: Cassiopeia.

[Ian and Mickey are making love with Ian on top]
Ian: Take it, you dirty convict.
Mickey: Thought you weren't gonna fuck me until I got a real job, huh?
Ian: Oh, I got my eyes closed, pretending you're a Jonas Brother.
Mickey: Which one?
Ian: Uh, Joe.
Mickey: Fuck you. I'm totally Nick.
Ian: [Mickey pushes Ian off him] What the...
Mickey: [Gets on top of Ian] Call me Nick, you Jonas-loving slut.
Ian: Whoa, hey. The fuck you doing?
Mickey: I'm gonna get you pregnant.
Ian: Come on. This isn't how we do it.
Mickey: Well, it's not how we normally do it. Been watching a lot of prison porn. Kinda feel like making you my bitch.
Ian: I'm not your bitch.
Mickey: Well, when I bottom, I power bottom, so even then, you're totally my bitch.
Ian: And we're done.
Mickey: Oh, come on.
Ian: Where you goin'?
Ian: To whack off in the shower.

Liam: How was your first day as a cop?
Carl: Pfft, seen more action playing Minecraft on the shitter.
Frank: [Eating cereal] This stuff is delicious.
Liam: You high?
Frank: As the Willis Tower. Fringe benefit of being the Alibi's chief quality control officer and weed sommelier. Gotta fuel up for a big day of pot purchases.
Debbie: Franny, breakfast!
Franny: No!
Debbie: [Chuckles] I'm gonna kill her. I'm gonna choke her with her cargo pants until she's dead.
Liam: Still won't put on the dress?
Debbie: Won't put on her dress, won't brush her hair, won't brush her teeth, won't pack her own backpack.
Carl: Why can't Little Miss Sunshine wear pants?
Debbie: 'Cause it's not Little Mr. Sunshine, Carl.
Liam: Sounds like gender conformity.
Debbie: It's not my world, Liam. I just live in it.

NIMBY [11.04]

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Terry: Hey, look. Our new neighbors came to welcome us, even my pansy former son and his stink-dick boyfriend.
Mickey: I guess the city must've made good on their threat to condemn our old house. That or the meth lab caught fire again.
Frank: Well, what are they doing here, though?
Mickey: Terry's been banging the lady who owns this place for a couple of years. Calls it his plan B.
Ian: Mrs. McCurdy? She's, like, 90.
Mickey: Gotta do what you gotta do, man.
Liam: Ugh. What's that smell?
Frank: That's the stench of abject poverty, son.
Frank: Sickening, isn't it?
Debbie: Actually, I think it might be those chickens.
Mickey: Oh, no, those ain't chickens. Those are cocks. Like, for cockfighting?
Debbie: Fighting chickens?
Mickey: They like it. If they don't die. It's natural for 'em. You know, it's fun.
Liam: We have to move. I don't wanna be the reason for the next Black Lives Matter march. I'll get Trayvon Martin-ed for sure if we stay here.
Ian: [A man is randomly firing off a kalashnikov assault rifle] Jesus!
Target: Ow!
Ian: Why's he shooting random shit?
Mickey: [Laughs] Aw... He's playing "I Spy, You shoot."
Ian: "I Spy, You shoot"?
Mickey: It's a kids' game. Yeah, kid says, "I spy with my little eye that red stop sign," or whatever, and then the adult... shoot the stop sign. Get off your fucking high horses. Anybody here feel like they're the product of good parenting, raise your hand.
Debbie: Okay, I don't have time for this shit. I gotta get Franny ready. Where is Franny?
Terry: Fuck it, just dump the used motor oil in the yard.

Tami: Oh, my God! Again with the back splatter?
Lip: Backsplash.
Tami: [Scoffs] So, um... any interest in brunch?
Lip: [Sighs] Are we brunch people now?
Tami: An old teacher of mine invited us.
Lip: [Grunts] You're friends with an old teacher?
Tami: Uh, Mr. Hanisian. He just moved back from St. Louis.
Lip: I don't know. Wasting the rest of the morning eating pastries with some old dude who taught you, what, pre-algebra? History? Creative writing?
Tami: Music.
Lip: Oh. Great, maybe he can teach us how to play "Hot Cross Buns" on the recorder.
Tami: So is that a no?
Lip: Brunch is a scam. You know that, right? Marketers literally just made up a fourth meal, and we're all supposed to go along with it?
Tami: Okay. Well, he really wanted to meet you, but I'll just tell him that you're too big of an asshole to come. [Walks away]

Leesie: [Pulling up to loitering woman] Well, that must be our perp.
Carl: The loosie lady?
Leesie: Know her?
Carl: Yeah, she been selling squares out here forever. Is that illegal?
Leesie: Gotta have a license.
Carl: Look like she has a license to you?
Leesie: [Leans into cruiser window] Hey there, Officer. Something I can get you? I got menthol and regular.
Carl: Oh, we're not buying. Uh, we just...
Miss June: Gallagher. Any relation to Lip?
Carl: Yeah, he's my brother. [Laughs] He used to be my best customer.
Miss June: I haven't seen that handsome face in a month of Sundays. Did he get busted again?
Carl: No, he actually had a baby.
Miss June: Ugh! Them newborn babies is bad for business.
Carl: Hey. So look, unfortunately...
Miss June: Y'all still live over there by the Washingtons?
Carl: You know the Washingtons?
Miss June: Ooh, yeah, we used to...
Leesie: [Using loudspeaker] Fucking move your ass! I catch you selling out here again, I'm busting your ass, and I'm taking you in!
Miss June: [Walks away] Okay! Miss June respects the police. Yes, she does. All lives matter. Blue lives. Them blue lives matter. Especially them blue lives.
Carl: [To Leesie] I was doing it!
Leesie: Could've fooled me!

Mickey: [Goes down stairs to Ian eating cereal watching Harley Quinn on TV] Hey, what you doin' today?
TV Joker: "It's me, dickhead," or just "me, dickhead"?
Mickey: Yo... Ian.
Ian: I'm just trying to find the strength to get off the couch and search for another minimum-wage, dead-end, soul-crushing job to appease my parole officer.
Mickey: Yeah, well... what if I offer you a job?
Ian: As what, getaway car driver?
Mickey: Come on, weed money security for the Alibi. It's your lucky day, bitch. Come on.
Ian: Yeah, thanks but no, thanks.
Mickey: Fuck you. Why not?
Ian: I'm not doing anything illegal.
Mickey: Weed's legal now. Look, stop eating your weight in Froot Loops. Go get dressed. Go on.
Ian: I don't think it's a good idea for us to work together.
Mickey: Oh. Oh, oh. Well, let's get this shit straight, then, 'cause it's not "workin' together." You're workin' for me, all right? I'm the boss.
Ian: No, thanks.

Frank: First comes crime, then drugs. Then they impregnate our women, take over our schools, drain and defraud our public safety nets, and finally, the introduction of some rare, communicable diseases which they brought from whatever exotic or savage place they originally came from.
Liam: Weren't they living, like, five minutes from here?
Frank: That's beside the point. Our pure immune systems can't handle a Milkovich virus this close. It's like living right next door to a nuclear waste dump. Sooner or later, the radiation's gonna get ya. This only ends with death.
Liam: We're gonna die? For real?
Frank: Odds just shot up considerably.

Slaughter [11.05]

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Frank: Barkeep, a beer and a glass of tomato juice, please.
Kevin: Ha-ha! Hungover?
Frank: Of course, but that's not why. I tried to ignore the Milkovich hot spot, but yet again, science wins. Pretending a virus isn't real doesn't make it harmless.
Veronica: Here's an idea. Why don't you talk to them?
Kevin: We tried.
Veronica: No, you tried to trick them. I'm saying talk to them. Listen to their concerns. Express your concerns. Have an actual conversation.
Frank: V, you act like these are human beings.
Kevin: Well, nothing else has worked. It's worth a shot.
Frank: Oh, Jesus, I don't know what's more toxic, their filth or your optimism.
Tommy: What's up with the fancy outfit? Parole hearing?
Veronica: No. I like to look nice for men who have nothing better to do than sit in a bar all day. Alderman sent over a list of people who didn't vote in the last election, so I am going door-to-door to get them to the polls.
Kermit: You can skip my house. I'll be here.
Veronica: Black people. We need to get this rent control bill passed so Black people can afford to stay in the neighborhood. Tell them to stop paying rent.
Frank: That's what the Milkoviches do.
Tommy: Where do people like that come from in the first place?
Veronica: The South. Once they realized they had to start picking the cotton, they migrated to the Midwest to take part in our industrial economy.
Frank: No, the Milkovich clan came here from Poland after the Polish-Russian war. For some reason, when white people lose a war, they all move to Chicago.
Kevin: All right, Frank. You ready?
Frank: Can't you do it?
Kevin: No. Come on, we're a team.
Frank: Who've never won a game.
Kevin: Exactly. That's why the Milkoviches will listen to us. We're relatable. We're not Jordan and Pippen. We're Tommy and Kermit.
Frank: I'm surprised they didn't ask you to coach the Bulls.
Kevin: [Going out door] Come on.
Frank: Fine. Let's get this over with. [Finishes drink and walks after]

Ian: I think we're being followed.
Mickey: We're not being followed, man. It's called traffic.
Ian: No, this guy's been behind us since we left the grow house.
Mickey: "Oh, I think we're being followed, man!" [Laughs]
Ian: Yeah, and I'm the one who fucking nags, right?
Mickey: Oh, come on. I'm just giving you shit.
[Van cuts in front of them with a sedan trapping them from behind]
Ian: Fuck! Shit!
Mickey: Shit! Fuck! I fucking told you! Well, congratulations! You were right! You happy?! We gotta run!
Thug: [Aiming gun] Out, now.
Mickey: Shit.
Thug: Now!
Mickey: All right. [Thugs opens door] God damn it. Oh.
Thug: Move!
Mickey: Fuck!
Lou: Calm down, tough guy. I will shoot you in the nuts!
Mickey: Lou?
Ian: You know this guy?
Lou: Shut up. Ain't nobody here named Lou.
Mickey: I can see the fucking tattoo on your hand says Lou.
Lou: Shit. What's up, Mickey?
Mickey: You're an idiot. That's what's up. Can we go now? I got shit to do, man.
Lou: Afraid not.
Mickey: I'm your cousin, asshole. Give me my bags. Get the fuck out of the way.
Lou: Sorry, man. We got a job to do.
Mickey: Oh, you got a job? [Draws pistol] I do too, bitch.
Lou: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Is that an airsoft pistol?
Mickey: No.
Lou: That's an airsoft gun. I can see where you painted over the orange tip of the barrel. [Laughs] Can you not afford a real gun?
Mickey: No, I- I have a real gun. It's just... if I get caught with it, I go to prison, and some people are very uncomfortable with that.
Ian: We're on parole! We're on parole.
Lou: [Sighs] Well, now I feel bad. Tell you what. Since you're family, we're only gonna take, uh, 1,000 bucks. All right? Can't leave empty-handed, you know. We got mouths to feed.
Mickey: No, uh, yeah, thank you for being so fucking generous.
Lou: You're welcome. Hey. I'll see you at Thanksgiving.
Mickey: Yeah, okay. Fuck you. [Lou and cohorts get in van and drive away with Ian flipping them off]
Ian: Unbelievable! There goes our profit for the week!
Mickey: Don't make this shit like it's my fault!
Ian: I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying!
Mickey: You're just saying that we should've had a real fucking gun...!
Ian: I'm just saying...!
Mickey: like I've been saying...!
Ian: ...it's your inbred...!
Mickey: ...from the fucking beginning!
Ian: ...Polack fucking family!
Mickey: We are...!

[Carl and Leesie walk into apparel retail store]
Shopkeeper: Thank you for coming. Damn shoplifters took a bunch of stuff.
Leesie: Mm.
Shopkeeper: That's one of them right there. The others ran away.
Leesie: Mm. How'd you catch him?
Shopkeeper: Pepper spray.
Leesie: Okay, and then you tied him to a rack using belts.
Shopkeeper: Exactly.
Leesie: I like your style. [Sighs] What's your name?
Saquon: Saquon.
Leesie: Mm. Pepper spray burn, don't it?
Saquon: No.
Leesie: No? Oh, you a tough guy. Okay. All right. Well, just so you know... it only gets worse from here.
Saquon: Ow, you're hurting me.
Leesie: Move your ass. Come on, Gallagher. Come on, lady. Instead of shoplifting, how about you lift some damn weights? One thing you ain't gotta steal; food.

Leesie: [Sets Saquon's hands on an overturned cable spool] See what we got. Officer Gallagher, can you do me a favor?
Carl: [Sighs] Yes, ma'am.
Leesie: In the trunk, there's a machete. You mind bringing it to me, please?
Carl: A machete?
Leesie: Yeah, my machete. See it?
Carl: Uh, yeah.
Leesie: [Carl unsheaths machete and hands it to Leesie] You ever been to Iraq, Saquon?
Saquon: No.
Leesie: No? Ooh, I loved it over there. I did not wanna come home. Now, in Iraq, you steal, you don't go to jail. Nah, they cut off your hand. Punishment fits the crime, see?
Carl: Leesie...
Leesie: Gallagher, don't just stand there. Come here. Keep this bitch from squirming. [Carl wraps around Saquon's torso] It's gonna take a couple hacks for this hand to come off. Here we go. [Chops machete besides Saquon's wrist who screams] Hey. Hey, hey, hey, hey! Look at me. This was just a warning. I catch you stealing again, this hand's coming off. Go home. Change your pants. [Saquon takes off running] Scared Straight ain't got nothing on my shit.

Veronica: How'd it go? Did you bury the hatchet?
Frank: The virus has mutated.
Veronica: You okay, baby? What's wrong?
Kevin: So much. So much is wrong.
Frank: I don't know. You think? I thought we got to a pretty good place there at the end.
Veronica: What happened?
Kevin: Well, one of them was skinning a deer, and then the other one was branding himself.
Veronica: What?
Kevin: Right in their front yard. We have to move.
Veronica: We're not moving.
Kevin: It's like living next to the Manson family, V. The blood?
Veronica: I gotta get back out to finding Black folks. That's the only thing that's gonna fix this. Get out the vote. This is our home, not theirs.
Frank: If anyone's moving, it's them. Maybe this is it, the final stop in Caucasian evolution: white trash. In the end, we'll all be Milkoviches.

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good... eh, Screw It [11.06]

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Kevin: [Veronica giggles and he pokes head above Alibi bar counter before flashback scenes] Oh, sh- oh, hey! Uh, V? [Stands up and doing up pants]
Veronica: Yeah?
Kevin: V. Did you know they were coming?
Veronica: No! Hell no! 'Scuse me. Can I help you? Oh, sure, this is what you're here for? Okay, here's what happened last week on Shameless. Married people you know with kids can still have fantastic sex. [Veronica goes down with Kevin undoing pants and going down]

[Lip and Brad are breaking into their motorcycle repair shop with Mickey]
Mickey: Fuck! Darker than Satan's asshole in here.
Lip: All right, Imma hit parts. Mick, grab some bikes, and, uh, Brad, office.
Brad: Wait, why are you using real names?
Lip: Hey, relax, we're gonna take the security camera.
Brad: And what- what if they bugged the place?
Mickey: Hey, Mission Impossible, less talking, more stealing. What the fuck is this shit?
Brad: Hey, hey, three grand in the safe.
Lip: Yo, hey, hey. Fuck that one. It's a piece of shit. Grab some chrome pipes and carburetors, parts room.
Mickey: Shit feels expensive. It's heavy.
Lip: [Mickey drops objects smashing it] Hey, what the fuck you doing?!
Mickey: Making it look like Mexicans broke in!
Brad: Fucking freezing in here. Why'd you get a refrigerated truck?
Lip: 'Cause, Brad, there's not a lot of options last-minute.
Mickey: Where we fencing this shit?
Lip: I don't know. Out of state, probably.
Mickey: Wait, you haven't lined up a fence yet?
Lip: No.
Mickey: Great fucking plan, Lip. Which one of you geniuses came up with it?
Lip: Well, it was a group effort: me, Brad, couple of six-packs.
Mickey: Couple of s- You off the wagon again?
Lip: Yeah, just one night.
Mickey: "Just one night", isn't that what every alcoholic says?

Veronica: Okay, here we go. Two beautiful girls ready to show their mommy off at school. Oh, I am so excited to be class parent. I need a break from the adults. Hey, how many voters did you register yesterday Three in five hours. So many good Black folks died from the virus or moving away. I'm starting to think we should give up and leave the South Side to the gentrifiers. Hey, those gentrifiers buy weed, the expensive stuff with the weird names. I had some hipster kid come in for an edible yesterday. He said that we're the up-and-coming... neighborhood, said we're the next Pilsen.
Kevin: Pilsen? The place where they do art walks?
Veronica: Yeah, and the fancy food trucks. The other kids are gonna be so jealous of you. You guys have the sexiest mama on the South Side. A- and the smartest. Damn right, the smartest. Girls, in 2021, we are ignoring the male gaze and focusing on our minds. It's where the energy needs to go.
Kevin: Well, this male gaze is gonna focus on you walking out that door. [Veronica turns head in recognition]

Liam: [Frank is in the shower] Frank, can I ask you something? [Frank grunts] Do you believe in God? I mean, the evidence is thin, but I think God is real... [Frank grunts] ...which means so is Hell. [Frank groans] Say you did something bad by accident. Do you still go down there and get tortured by demons?
Frank: [Pokes head aside of shower curtains] Little hard to masturbate when you keep asking me questions about Catholicism, kid. It's fine. I give up anyway. Son, Hell, much like prisons, is just a way to frighten people into submission. You can buy a pardon from the Catholic Church, be absolved of your sins, just like you can buy a judge. It's the oldest scam in the book.
Liam: How much is a pardon?
Frank: More than you'll ever have. If you're worried about something, go confess. Light some candles, say some Hail Marys, and voila , you're back on God's good side, unless, of course, you did something really bad. Then you'll be tormented in the deepest depths of Hell for eternity.

Liam: Hey, Timmy. It's me, Liam, from next door.
Timmy: I know who you are.
Liam: Um, I heard about your Uncle Terry.
Timmy: Not my uncle, my dad. Well, guess he's actually my uncle and my dad.
Liam: I'm really sorry, man.
Timmy: Why do you give a shit?
Liam: It's just sad that-
Timmy: Only time a man apologizes for something is if he did it or knows who did. You know who it was? Do you?
Liam: No! I was just trying to--
Timmy: When we find the bastard that sh*t Pappy Terry, he'll be more than paralyzed. We'll cut him up, bleed him out, grind him up, and feed him to our dogs.

Two at a Biker Bar, One in the Lake [11.07]

edit
Debbie: [Before flashback scenes] Hey, what are you doing here? You didn't even watch last week's Shameless. Get the fuck out of my truck.

Debbie: [To Carl] Good morning, oh brother of mine. [Hands him plate] Made you breakfast.
Carl: What's with her?
Sandy: I wouldn't trust it.
Debbie: [Ian and Mickey come down stairs and she walks over to them] Good morning, boys. Look what I made. Your favorite. [Leans in to Mickey who jerks back]
Mickey: Why the fuck are you touching me right now?
Debbie: Tami, Phillip, bacon rainbows? Flower pancakes?
Tami: Uh, we're good.
Lip: Uh, good. Thanks, though. Hey, bud. So, um... things got a little bit heated last night, but now that we've all slept on it, I would like to reopen the discussion about fixing up the house to sell. Um... if we knocked out a couple walls, created a more open floor plan, we could add grand to the sale price. [Sighs] Debs, what do you think?
Debbie: Oh, Phillip... Well, I think you can take your open floor plan and lick my vagina.
Mickey: Gross.
Lip: Jesus fucking Christ, what is the big deal?
Debbie: I grew up here.
Lip: Yeah, we all grew up here. Maybe our kids can grow up someplace nicer.
Tami: Yeah, maybe somewhere Frank doesn't live.
Debbie: Oh, I see what this is. It's not even your idea. [Walks up to Tami] Fucking Little Miss Middle Class wants her townhouse in Pilsen.
Tami: Whoa, hold on a second. I didn't even...
Debbie: How hard did you have to twist his little nut sack for him to do what you wanted?
Lip: Nobody twisted my nut sack, all right?
Debbie: And it doesn't matter whose idea this is.
Lip: It's a good idea. You are the only one who doesn't think so.
Debbie: Well, Ian only thinks so because you think so.
Ian: What?
Debbie: And Carl's too stupid to think anything at all.
Carl: Hey, that's not true.
Ian: Mickey and I have been saving up to get our own place.
Debbie: When did that idea come? Right when Lip moved out. "Lip got his own place. I should too."
Ian: That's bullshit. I don't just do things 'cause Lip says.
Mickey: Well, you sort of do, though. [Laughs]
Ian: Name one thing.
Mickey: Switched from tighty-whiteys to boxers 'cause Lip did.
Ian: I had a fungus issue. Boxers air the boys out better.
Mickey: Totally. Who told you that again?
Ian: Lip. Fuck the both of you. I'm my own man.
Mickey: Okay, big shit. Why don't you tell Lip you don't wanna sell the house, then?
Lip: Mickey, hey, stop. Family only.
Ian: Mickey's family.
Tami: Yeah, well, he's just saying...
Ian: This doesn't concern you, Tami.
Debbie: Yeah, none of this concerns you, Tami.
Lip: Whoa, whoa, whoa. So Mickey's family, but Tami's not family?
Debbie: Yeah. They're married. Tami has no right to tell you to sell my house.
Tami: Oh, my God. I didn't tell him to do anything.
Ian: What the fuck?
Lip: All right, back off. All right? I got this.
Tami: Wow. [Sits down]
Lip: Carl, we sell, we each get grand. Right? Maybe more, okay? You could get a sick bachelor pad for that.
Carl: Awesome.
Debbie: You're gonna have to clean that bachelor pad and cook your own meals.
Carl: Shit.
Lip: You'll be able to have sex without someone barging in and asking for deodorant.
Debbie: But you'll have to pay your own bills.
Lip: Look, you can do that online. It's easy.
Debbie: Carl doesn't know which remote turns the TV on. You think he can pay his own bills online?
Tami: Debbie, you can't just insult your way into getting what you want.
Debbie: And you can't fuck your way into getting what you want, Tami! [Sandy bursts out laughing]
Lip: Hey!
Debbie: The fuck is so funny?
Sandy: I mean, why do you all still live together? You obviously hate each other.
Debbie: We don't hate each other.
Ian: We don't all hate each other. We just all hate Debbie. [Sandy laughs]
Debbie: Hey, Ian doesn't hate Lip. Ian loves Lip. Lip is his only friend in the whole fucking world.
Ian: Oh, fuck you, Debbie.
Carl: She's not wrong, though.
Lip: All right, could we all just put our personal shit aside, right...
Ian: Why'd you sleep in a fucking hotel last night?
Lip: ...calm the fuck down, and just have a rational discussion for once?
Carl: We have to pay for water?
Debbie: Yes, water costs money.
Tami: [Stands up to Debbie] Okay, how about we don't calm the fuck down, and we get up in Debbie's face, and we call her out for being the selfish brat that she is?
Debbie: You cut hair, Tami.
Lip: Tami, Tami, not helping.
Mickey: If Lip told you to lick a cat turd off a steam pipe in the middle of July...
Ian: Yeah, I got something here to lick on.
Lip: Nobody's licking any turds! All right?
Carl: I could get a maid, right? I don't wanna have to clean the shit out of my own toilet.
Debbie: A maid's not gonna cook for you. You're gonna starve.
Lip: Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay! Everybody shut the fuck up, please. Let's just vote and be done with it.
Franny: Sell!
Debbie: Shut up, Franny!
Lip: Atta girl.
Tami: Nice mothering, Debbie.
Lip: Stop, all right?! Tami, Mickey, stay out of it! Franny, you too! I vote sell!
Debbie: I vote no.
Lip: Ian.
Ian: I vote no.
Debbie: Yes. Gallaghers, unite.
Lip: You fucking kidding me?
Ian: Oh, shut up.
Lip: Carl?
Carl: Can I think about it?
Debbie: Yes! Right now, decision!
Lip: Liam.
Debbie: Where the fuck is Liam?!

Kevin: Mm, don't you look beautiful!
Veronica: No, sir. You let Lip hide stolen motorcycles in Kev-Fit. You and I don't have anything to say to each other until this is over.
Kevin: It's only for a couple of days! Did you see that chopper? I've always wanted a chopper like that. I'd be ten times more fuckable in a chopper.
Veronica: If you get on that chopper, you're never gonna get... [ turns head in reference to daughters and says softly] ..fucked again.
Kevin: Brad's got a buyer in Indiana. Him and Lip are running two of them there today.
Veronica: Get rid of them. All of them.
Kevin: Yes, ma'am. Girls, you ready to go to school?
Veronica: [Following daughters] Where the hell are they going?
Kevin: Girls?
Veronica: Who's in there? [Walking to closet with Liam holding daughters breakfast plates] Liam?
Liam: Hi.
Kevin: Christ, Liam!
Veronica: What are you doing here?
Liam: Lip's selling the house.
Veronica: Lip's selling the house?
Kevin: What?
Liam: Everyone's moving on with their lives, and I'm gonna end up homeless. Can I live with you?
Kevin: You got this?
Veronica: Yeah, I got it.
Kevin: All right, cool. Girls, let's go.
Veronica: [Extends hand to Liam who takes it and gets up] Come on. I gotta go sign in voters. It's election day. But in the meantime, you and I are gonna talk about why young Black men can't go around breaking into people's houses. Come on.

Frank: A Gallagher has lived in that house since before statehood. My great-great-great grandfather Connell built it on the foundation of a Kickapoo hut, and it's mine. I should have a say. I should have... more than a say. I'm their father. I gotta... I gotta stop this. Thank... thank you. Thanks for talking me through this. I'll see you later. [Camera reveals bartender is a black woman that is not Veronica]
Bartender: You gonna pay for those beers?
Frank: Just put it on my tab.
Bartender: You don't have a tab.
Frank: [Looks around and realizes the drinking establishment is not The Alibi] Um... Where... how did I get here?
Bartender: I don't know how you got here, but I know how you leaving if you don't pay for your beers.
Frank: I ordered five beers, didn't drink any of them?
Bartender: Don't care if you drink them or not, long as you pay for them.
Frank: Uh... I, um...
Bartender: Chubby! [Tall burly man appears]
Frank: Jesus. [Frank gets thrown out of drinking establishment]

Cancelled [11.08]

edit
Detainee: Psst! You wanna watch me jerk off?
Lip: Thanks, but fuck no. [Police sergeant enters] Hey, you got any updates on what's goin' on?
Police sergeant: When the detectives are ready for you, they'll let ya know.
Lip: All right, could I get a sandwich or somethin'?
Police sergeant: Legally don't gotta provide any food, 'cause legally you're not under arrest.
Lip: All right, so legally, I can just go.
Police sergeant: Sure, but you try to leave, they probably will arrest you and bring you right back in. [Lip exhales]
Detainee: Psst!

Liam: Is Lip okay?
Carl: Ah, he'll be all right. It's not his first time getting questioned. He can handle an interrogation.
Liam: You can't just use your cop "get outta jail free" card? When I get in, I'm gonna try to grease the wheels of justice.
Frank: Do we have any triple-A batteries?
Ian: That's a big hole. Coulda just said he wanted to renovate.
Mickey: Your brother's a fuckin' drama queen, man. Hey, scarf that shit down. I wanna go check on Terry. We have a lotta pick-ups today.
Ian: I don't know if we have time. We would if you stopped yappin' and started eatin'.
Liam: You guys remember I have a thing after school, right?
Ian: Yeah, of course.
Carl: Wouldn't miss it, buddy.
Frank: What thing? Don't ya want your dad there, cheerin' you on?
Liam: Mm... not really.
Frank: Well, what is it, anyway?
Liam: A contest to pick a new name for my school. The winner gets a free iPad.
Frank: Why does your school need a new name?
Liam: 'Cause it's named after Dennis Hastert.
Frank: Fuck is Dennis Hastert?
Liam: Former speaker of the House of Representative. Native Chicagoan. And a child molester. He's canceled.
Frank: Canceled? You can't cancel history. It's already happened. Political correctness is gonna kill this country.
Mickey: He diddled kids.
Frank: Uh, beside the point. We can't be applying today's sexual standards to... molesters of yesteryear.
Carl: Molesting used to be okay?
Frank: Dennis Hastert brought a lotta federal dollars to Illinois. I don't think I can just stand by while the PC police erase his legacy.
Ian: This is the hill you wanna die on, Frank? Defending a pedo?
Frank: Defending tradition, defending our shared history? Yeah. I'll die on this hill. This is a hill we all should die on together.
Mickey: Come on. Hey, let's go. I wanna make sure they're takin' care of fuckin' Terry over there.

Kevin: All right, my love, I let ya sleep in. I even turned a blind eye when you moved from the bed to the couch and slept some more. But now it's time to carpet denim.
Veronica: What?
Kevin: Carpet denim. It's Latin for wake up!
Veronica: Oh, I just wanna sleep. Please.
Kevin: You wanna talk about it?
Veronica: My mama's moving. She's abandoning us. What's there to talk about?
Kevin: Oh, we can go visit for holidays and stuff. Who doesn't wanna spend Christmas in Kentucky? V, if you don't get up, we're gonna be late opening the Alibi.
Veronica: Who cares?
Kevin: What about the girls? We gotta get them ready... you don't want me doing their hair, do you?
Veronica: Who cares?
Kevin: V, you're the one who always says that a white woman can take her daughter to school lookin' any old way, but if a Black woman does it, people start to question whether she's a fit mother...
Veronica: Go away!
Kevin: Is there anything I can do to get you up?
Veronica: Okay, fine.
Kevin: Oh.
Veronica: Heh, I'm up.
Kevin: Okay, great!
Veronica: [Heading upstairs] I'm goin' back upstairs and gettin' into bed. You keep botherin' me, I'ma stab your ass.

Lip: See, I was at home with my lady and my kid. All right? She'll vouch for me. The kid, he can't talk yet, but if he could, he'd say Daddy was home all night.
Male detective: [Tosses binder on table] We have your juvenile arrest records, okay? So you can drop the choir boy act.
Lip: No, you see, tha- that's the old me, all right? I'm reformed now. I'm sober, even. You know, I'm not sayin' I'm a saint but, uh, I'm a family man, makin' an honest living.
Female detective: Okay, asshole, we know that you were involved with the robbery, so you can either cooperate, or we can make you cooperate.
Lip: All right, first of all, if you knew I was involved in the robbery, I'd be in cuffs right now, and second of all, I am cooperating. What am I doing if I'm not cooperating?
Male detective: Look, make it easy on yourself. Tell us where the bikes are, who helped you, and maybe we can recommend you avoid doin' real time.
Lip: Hey, can I go? [Gets up and leaves interrogation room]

Carl: Uh, hey, could you look up something related to a recent arrest for me?
Desk sergeant: Sure. What's the name of the perp?
Carl: Um... Philip Gallagher.
Desk sergeant: Rookie, are you really asking me to break every protocol in the book so you can potentially interfere with an ongoing investigation involving one of your family members?
Carl: Uh...
Desk sergeant: I'm fuckin' with you. [Laughs] I misuse this system all the time. One of the perks of the job.
Carl: G-A-L-L-A G-H-E-R.
Desk sergeant: Hmm. No arrest yet, but they are seeking a warrant for his house. Just waitin' on a judge's signature.
Carl: Shit.
Sergeant Stamps: Gallagher.
Carl: Ah, ma'am. Do you know who my new training officer's gonna be?
Sergeant Stamps:Training officer? That's not gonna happen. No one wants to work with you on account of the Carl Curse.
Carl: Ma'am?
Sergeant Stamps:The Carl Curse. Everyone who trained you ends up injured. You ever heard of a lucky rabbit's foot?
Carl: Yeah.
Sergeant Stamps: You're the opposite of that. Now, not all bad news. I got you a new assignment.
Carl: What is it?
Sergeant Stamps: They just walked in.
Detective Hightower: Take off that uni and meet us outside.
Detective Young: You're with Vice now.
Carl: Hell, yeah!
Sergeant Stamps: God, how cool are they?

Survivors [11.09]

edit
Ian: [To Mickey crying] Look, I know he was your dad, but the guy was an awful human being.
Mickey: Yeah, I know. He was a huge piece of shit.
Ian: Then why are you crying?
Mickey: I don't fuckin' know.
Ian: Look, Terry hated you. Hated us.
Mickey: This is your fuckin' fault.
Ian: What?
Mickey: You're the one that hired the nun. Was she even a nun?
Ian: She said she was a great caretaker.
Mickey: This is really unfair, man. I could've killed that fucker, like, a thousand times. This bitch just swoops in?
Ian: Hey, are you crying 'cause you're pissed off or 'cause you're sad?
Mickey: You stop asking me fuckin' questions! I don't know. I have no idea.
Ian: Okay.

Lip: What the fuck?! Who fixed the drywall?
Ian: I don't know.
Carl: What's the problem?
Ian: Someone fixed the drywall. [Scoffs] Not it.
Liam: So that means we're not selling the house, right?
Lip: Did you do this?
Debbie: Did I repair the damage that some dumbfuck did to my kitchen? Yeah.
Lip: What's your problem?
Debbie: My problem? You're the one who's mentally unstable.
Lip: What, 'cause I want to sell the house?
Debbie: Yes! It's driving all of us crazy. I mean, Liam, am I right?
Liam: For real. Are we selling the house or not?
Debbie: No, we're not!
Lip: Yes!
Liam: This is why I haven't pooped in three days.
Debbie: Yeah, and I had sex with a gay guy. And now I probably have AIDS. So thanks a lot, Lip.
Lip: How is it my fault that you had sex with a gay guy?
...
Debbie: We are not selling the house.
Lip: We are selling the house, all right?! Everybody got that?! No more conversations, no more bullshit, we're selling the fuckin' house! Let's go.
Ian: You don't have AIDS.
Debbie: It was unprotected sex.
Ian: Still probably don't have AIDS. Everybody's on PrEP.
Debbie: Well, I'm sure I have something.
Ian: Well, syphilis, maybe. Gonorrhea. Lots of that going around.
Debbie: Oh, my God.
Ian: Ah, relax. That's like saying you walked on the beach and you have sand between your toes. Should probably hit a clinic, though.
Debbie: Really?
Ian: Yeah.

Frank: [Unfurling architectural blue prints in upstairs hall with Carl appearing] Oh, shit. You guys bugged the house, didn't you? Either way, you gotta have a search warrant to come in here. None of this is admissible in a court of law.
Carl: Frank, it's me.
Frank: What?
Carl: It's Carl, your son.
Frank: Oh, shit. My God. I thought you were a real cop.
Carl: I am a real cop.
Frank: Okay, son. [Sighs]
Carl: What is all this?
Frank: Suckers put money in retirement plans. Me? I planned the perfect heist.
Carl: What, are you gonna rob a bank?
Frank: "A bank". Please. The ICOE heist is special.
Carl: Oh, yeah? How so?
Frank: We're gonna rob the Art Institute.

Brad: We've stolen from one of the largest crime families in Chicago?
Lip: Seems like it. Yeah.

Kevin: [Sets placemats on table for daughters in Alibi Room] All right, girls. [Amy swipes placemat on floor] No! Amy, no! Unacceptable! We do not act like that! Here, just watch a movie.
Amy: No.
Gemma: We want to go to school.
Kevin: Guys, I want you to go to school, too. I really do. But I told you there's no school today. It's a teacher work day. Which is so great 'cause it's a Daddy work day, too.
Amy: I want Mommy.
Kevin: Yeah, I want Mommy too, okay? But she's not here. She's in Kentucky. Please just... watch a movie.
Kermit: What's V doing in Kentucky?
Kevin: [Sighs] She's helping her mom move.
Kermit: She left you in charge of the girls?
Kevin: Yeah, she left me in charge of the girls. Shut up. Where's Tommy?
Kermit: I don't know. At work, I guess. Why?
Kevin: It just freaks me out when you're here by yourself.
Frank: [Enters with rolled up blueprint tube] Could I get a shot of Jamie, please?
Kevin: Hey, Frank. It's me, Kevin.
Frank: Hey, Kevin. It's me, Frank. Why are we talking like we're on the phone?
Kevin: Oh, I just didn't know if you remembered me.
Frank: I'm not drunk yet.
Kevin: What's with the notebook?
Frank: This? This is the plan.
Kevin: What's the plan?
Frank: A heist. I'm putting the gang back together for one last job.
Kermit: Cool. You used to be a thief or something?
Frank: One of the best. You might've heard of one or two of our escapades. The Purolator heist? Elizabeth Stewart Gardner Museum?
Kevin: No.
Kermit: Doesn't matter. [Raise glass] Best of luck.
Kevin: Yeah, you go get 'em. Cheers.
Frank: Thanks, boys. Well, I'm outta here. Don't mention anything to anybody about the heist. Discretion is vital.
Kevin: I don't know what you're talking about.
Frank: I just told you.
Kevin: Yeah, Frank, I'm pretending that I don't know.
Frank: Oh, got it.
Kevin: Frank? [Points to shot glass still full]
Frank: What?
Kevin: Your shit.
Frank: What? Oh. [chuckles softly then drinks up] Mm. [To Kermit] How you doin'? Oh, sht. [Walks out humming to self]

Nurse: Doing an STD panel today?
Debbie: Yeah.
Nurse: Any particular reason?
Debbie: Uh, yeah. I think my stupid brother gave me an STD.
Nurse: You had sex with your brother?
Debbie: Oh, my God, no. Jesus. What would happen if I did? Would he go to jail?
Nurse: I'd have to report it. Incest is illegal in Illinois. He'd probably spend two to five years in jail.
Debbie: Oh. It's temping... [groans softly] But extreme. I just want to stay in my house.
Nurse: Honey, why are you here?
Debbie: I had unprotected sex with a gay dude.
Nurse: What does that have to do with your brother?
Debbie: Well, he wants to sell the house we grew up in. I don't wanna sell the house. I may have overreacted a little bit and gotten drunk and had unprotected sex in the back of a skanky-ass bar.
Nurse: You think your brother planned to sell the house so you'd have unprotected sex with a stranger and get an STD?
Debbie: Yes. AIDS.
Nurse: I doubt you have AIDS. You probably don't have anything, but I am gonna give you a penicillin shot just to be safe.
Debbie: Thanks.
Nurse: Okay.
Debbie: [Nurse holds up needle] Jesus.
Nurse: I need you to pull your jeans down, bend over slightly.
Debbie: I'm gonna fuckin' kill Lip.

DNR [11.10]

edit
Carl: [Battling protestors demonstrating for fire truck curbs before flashback scenes] Jesus Christ! Does it look like I have time to tell you what happened on Shameless last week? Yo, back the fuck up! Back the fuck up, shit for brains! God!

Lip: [Referring to Nighthawks painting by Edward Hopper propped on fireplace mantle] A- are we sure this is the real one? Be a hell of a coincidence.
Mickey: I don't get it. Two guys and a girl, like, buying coffee... What's the big deal?
Ian: It's supposed to be romantic. I guess I kind of see it.
Liam: What?
Ian: They look miserable, but at least they're miserable together.
Liam: I think it's rudimentary. Three people at a diner? Give me some paper. I'll draw it.
Ian: Yeah, I kind of doubt that, Picasso. [Walks past Liam patting him on head]
Liam: It's just another mediocre artist who's only famous because he's white.
Lip: All right, look, well, we got to get rid of it, right? I mean, if the cops find it here, we're all doin' time.
...
Debbie: Hi. When are you gonna fix the hot water? I froze my tits off in the shower this morning.
Lip: Got the gas company comin' sometime today. Hey, or you can get your tools out and you can fix it.
Debbie: No, thanks. Not helping you sell the house we grew up in.
Lip: Jesus Christ, Debs, this again?
Debbie: Yes, this again. I was supposed to be working today, making money to feed my child, but instead, Franny and I have to go look for a new place to live, hopefully somewhere with no lead paint or mass shootings.
...
Lip: No one's going anywhere until we get rid of this thing, all right?
Debbie: It's not my problem now, now that you're the one making decisions.
Debbie: Come on, Franny.
Carl: We could burn it.
Ian: Burn a piece of art history worth, what, millions of dollars?
Carl: Wait... millions? Shit. That's a section federal offense. That's a major artwork? Ten years, each.
Mickey: I know a guy who moved some dinosaur bones that fell off a field museum truck a few years back. Want me to see if he can find a buyer?
Lip: No, there's not a fence in the world that can move this. I mean, it'd be like tryin' to sell the "Mona Lisa."
Ian: Let's just put it in an alley by the Art Institute, call in a tip.
Lip: Frank's prints are gonna be all over it. I mean, how do you get prints off canvas... carpet cleaner? Do we even have carpet cleaner?
Frank: [Coming down stairs] Holy shit. Is that the original? How the hell did it get here?
Lip: Good question, Frank.
Frank: Did Jelly... They fucked me.
Carl: You stole it.
Frank: It was Tease. Wasn't it? What'd he say? Why did he bring it here?
Liam: Tease is dead.
Frank: What?
Liam: You told me yesterday. Y- you don't remember anything about this, right?
Frank: Um...
Liam: Why would he lie?
Ian: 'Cause he's Frank.
Liam: The doctor said there would be good days and bad.
Ian: What doctor? Or he's a lying sack of shit who never takes responsibility for any of the crap he does.
Frank: You can't talk to me like that. I'm still your father.
Liam: He can't help it, Ian.
Frank: Don't talk about me like I'm not here. [Picks up painting off mantle] I know a guy...
Lip: [Leaps over couch] What are you doing?!
Frank: I know a guy...
Lip: Frank, Frank, Frank... [Puts painting back on mantle]
Frank: I know a guy...
Lip: Put it down, sit down.
Carl: You don't know a guy. [Frank sighs]
Lip: Okay. What are we gonna do?
Mickey; He's gonna say we should hand it over to the po-po.
Carl: Hell, no, they'll kick me off the force and lock the rest of you up. Just give me the day. I'll scope things out.
Lip: Well, somebody's got to watch Frank.
Mickey: We can't. We're openin' the Alibi.
Ian: Take him with us.
Lip: You can't take him to the Alibi... he'll tell everybody he stole it.
Ian: Then we're all fucked.
Frank: I'm not gonna tell people I stole it.
...
Mickey: Cuff him to the radiator.
Frank: Fuck off.
Lip: Gas company guy might think that's a little weird, no?
Ian: Just lock him in the basement... It's what he used to do to us. I mean, he left me there for three days when I was six.
Liam: [Sighs] I'll take him. Frank, you want to run an errand?
Frank: What kind of an errand?
Liam: Just come on. Don't forget your jacket.

Arthur: I'm surprised the captain didn't assign us the "Nighthawks." Half the force is out lookin' for that painting. Ever seen it?
Carl: No. Not that I can remember.
Arthur: I did once. Field trip in the seventh grade. Who do you think did it? The Russians? So they can hang it in Putin's secret billion-dollar palace just to screw with us?
Carl: The Russians?
Arthur: A heist like that takes finesse, planning. Russians are great at that sneaky stuff... Stealing nuclear secrets, elections.
Carl: Probably just some old man who wandered into the museum, saw something he liked, and took it.
Arthur: An old man? I doubt it.
Carl: Well, what would the punishment be for someone like that if they turn themselves in?
Arthur: Is the old man white and rich or Black or poor? If he's rich, he'll buy himself a fancy lawyer and get off with time served. If he's poor, accidentally shot during the arrest.
Carl: Poor people always get screwed.

Liam: Can I ask you something?
Frank: What?
Liam: Did you steal that painting?
Frank: Well, apparently.
Liam: There's security cameras, alarms, guards. How did you do it? According to the news, they don't know who took it or how or when.
Frank: Ha! Iko, baby. [Chuckles and looks in mirror of shop] Dad?
Liam: No, that's you.
Frank: Oh, God. When did I get so old? Where are we going?
Liam: Give me your arm. I'm writing Lip's number down in case we get separated. I need your help with this kid Wen Chung, see if I can get him to fail his math test on Monday.
Frank: Why?
Liam: The STEM charter middle school I want to go to automatically accepts the first kids in each class. Everyone else has to compete for the few remaining spots. I'm number two.
Frank: What's your leverage?
Liam: Thinkin' I'll play the Black card. Then the poor card. Then maybe even the dead-mom card.
Frank: You could tell him you're gay, too.
Liam: Ooh. That's a good idea. The gay card's always a winner.
Frank: Whatever it takes. But you can't let China steal your future.
Liam: This is still America, right?
Frank: Are you asking? Greatest country on Earth.
Liam: Right.
Frank: No little Chinese communist bastard can ever take that away from you, no matter how many COVID flus they send our way, try to kill us.

The Fickle Lady is Calling it Quits [11.11]

edit
Ian: [View goes into Ian's room in bed with Mickey, with Ian leaping out of bed lunging at viewer before recap flashbacks] How the hell'd you get in here? Hey, I'm not gonna tell you what happened last week on Shameless, all right? Go look it up on goddamn Wikipedia! [Slams door shut]

Mickey: [Meets Lip renovating house] Hey.
Lip: Hey. Thought you moved out.
Mickey: Go fuck yourself. [Walks away]

Lip: Hey.
Carl: You stay up all night again?
Lip: Indeed, I have, Officer.
Carl: Yeah, I'm an officer, but what does that even mean? All I see is lazy cops who do nothing or hard-ass cops who don't give a shit about the community. It's like I don't wanna be either one of those, so what's the point?
Lip: What?
Carl: Nothing. Never mind.
Lip: No, no. Look, I'm sorry, man, I do, I wanna listen to you, but could we do it another time? My brain can't switch gears right now.
Carl: [Walks away] That's fine.
Debbie: [Comes down stairs] Jesus... loud! Early!
Lip: Yeah, well, I gotta try and get this finished.

Mickey: Ew! Ass fuck! [Kicks Frank's bed waking him] You shit yourself, Frank! What the fuck?!
Liam: [Meets Frank in hallway] Frank.
Frank: I just shat the bed and pissed myself.
Liam: Ew!
Frank: I'm lost. Spent. Used up.
Liam: You're just being dramatic.
Frank: I'm hopelessly wandering in a world I don't recognize.
Liam: It's just a bad morning for you. Happens to the best of them. What are you doing today?
Frank: Uh... nothing.
Liam: Me neither. Let's have some fun.
Frank: I don't feel like it.
Liam: Come on. It's like you used to always tell me. Either you run the day, or the day runs you.
Frank: I said that?
Liam: [Sighs] Just get in the shower. We're gonna do some Frank things.
Frank: Frank things?
Liam: Yeah. Drinking, scamming... You know, Frank things.
Frank: Okay.

Carl: [Walks up to her] Sergeant Stamps.
Stamps: Need you to apologize to Mr. McManus, Carl.
Carl: That the guy with the "Merce-Benz"?
Stamps: He's filing a brutality claim against you.
Carl: Me?! What?! Why?!
Arthur: I'm gonna go with door number two... slamming the guy against his car.
Stamps: This can all go away. Say a few words, "I'm sorry," blah, blah, blah.
Carl: Seriously?
Stamps: Most likely, he'll drop the claim. It'll save the department K.
Carl: So what? Every time someone complains, we just apologize and it goes away?
Arthur: If the person's a rich a-hole with an attorney.
Stamps: [Chuckles] Ready?
Arthur: You got this, Carl.
Stamps: [Carls walks up to Stamps with McManus] Mr. McManus, Officer Gallagher has something to say to you.
McManus: Excuse me if I don't, uh, do a jig. I got two dislocated discs in my neck, thanks to you.
Carl: I'm very sorry about that, sir. I was out of line, and it won't happen again. Well, I hope we can all put this behind us.
Stamps: Officer Gallagher, you may go back to work now.
Carl: Thank you, ma'am. [Walks away]
McManus: That's it? You're gonna let him get off that easily?
Stamps: Gallagher, hold up.
McManus: I'm a victim here.
Carl: Yes. Yes, you are, sir.
McManus: I was simply double-parked in front of my building, and you slammed my body up against my car.
Carl: I'm sorry about that.
McManus: [Sighs] Well, now I know how every Black person in America feels.
Carl: Did you actually just say that?
McManus: Say what?
Carl: That you, a privileged piece of shit who evicts people from their apartments can relate to how Black people feel, who are literally m*rder*d at the hands of the police department?
McManus: Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I do relate to them.
Carl: No, stop. I was fine apologizing to your entitled ass to make this all go away, but I can't play this game anymore. I spent the last few months trying to figure out what kind of cop I wanna be, and I'll say this...
Stamps: I haven't met a lot of good role models here. Why don't we regroup and...
Carl: ...but this jagoff made me realize what kind of cop I wanna be now.
Stamps: I'm not sure you'll have much of a choice at this point.
Carl: I wanna be the type a cop who stands up for those who don't have a voice... The lost, the forgotten. They deserve a fair share, even if that means rich pricks like you, Mr. McManus, have to pay the price in order to re-balance the scales of justice. So, with that being said, I take my apology back.
McManus: Mm-hmm. I'll see you in court, dickwad. ['Walks away]
Stamps: [Softly] Gallagher.
Arthur: Last piece of pound cake! Goin' once, goin' twice, sold to Arthur Tipping!

Father Frank, Full of Grace [11.12]

edit
[Entire cast is sitting on door steps of Gallagher residence]
Frank: We’re not doing this, telling you what happened on Shameless last week anymore. We’re sick of it.
Lip: Yeah, we quit.
Debbie: It’s over.
Ian: Just not doin’ it.
Carl: It insults your intelligence.
Veronica: They don’t pay us enough.
Kevin: What, they pay you guys for this?
Frank: [They all turn heads to Kevin] Yeah. You don’t get paid?
Debbie: Are you kidding?
Ian: Of course.
Kevin: Well, fuck me! [They all snicker]

Mickey: [Ian pulse checks an unresponsive Frank on the couch] Is he dead?
Ian: Faint pulse. Hypoxic.
Kevin: High what?
Veronica: Barely breathing.
Debbie: What’s that smell?
Franny: Grampy went tinkle in his pants.
Debbie: Ugh, damn it. Not on the new couch.
Carl: [Walks up] Hey, what’s goin’ on?
Ian: Frank OD’d again.
Carl: How much heroin did he do?
Kevin: Wow.
Tami: Oh. And he’s not dead?
Lip: Yet another disadvantage to decades of copious narcotics use.
Debbie: Should we, like, call the paramedics or something?
Lip: No, he’s done this before a bunch of times.
Liam: He may be trying to kill himself. He’s been depressed. The dementia’s getting bad.
Veronica: Hand me that syringe. [Ian hands her one and she pricks Frank's hand]
All: Ugh!
Mickey: Sheesh.
Veronica: Unresponsive to pain.
Ian: Stroke?
Veronica: Or he’s already brain-dead. That happens with overdoses.
Mickey: I guess it’s up to us to finish him off. Quick so*t to the head, dump his body in the lake. I don’t think anybody’s gonna miss him. What? We’d just be helpin’ Mr. Fuckup finish the job.
Heidi: You could pillow him. That’s what my dad did to my grandpa so we could sell his double-wide. Couldn’t afford his oxygen refills anymore.
Tami: Who is that?
Lip: Debbie’s got a new friend.
Heidi: Hey, you check his pockets, see if he got any money on him?
Carl: Trust me, he doesn’t.

Mickey: [Carrying a mattress out of the Milkovich residence with Ian] Your mattress smells like ass.
Ian: We can also buy a new mattress.
Mickey: Nah, too many good memories stained into this one.
Ian: Hey, you know what the day is? Twentieth or 21st?
Mickey: Fuck should I know?
Ian: Thinkin’ it’s the 21st.
Mickey: Maybe a little less thinkin’ and open those doors. This fucker’s heavy.
Ian: After we drop this shit off, we gotta hit that furniture rental on Ashland. They got a good deal on taupe living room sets.
Mickey: All right. That it?
Ian: No, still gotta grab the dresser.
Mickey: What do we need a dresser for? We got floors, right?
Ian: [Gives Mickey a you-should-know-better look and then turns] Come on. [Walks back into house]
Mickey: Fuck’s sake. [Follows after]

Heidi: [In Debbie's bedroom] Help me run an errand later?
Debbie: Sure.
Heidi: Franny, you like muscle cars?
Debbie: Oh, yeah, American only. Right, Fran?
Franny: USA!
Heidi: You know, I had a ’70 Barracuda 440 once.
Franny: Ooh!
Heidi: Mm-hmm. For a whole two hours. Smoked the cops who were on me after I boosted it. Hey, you’re your own boss, right?
Debbie: Yeah.
Heidi: That means you don’t have to go to work if you have something better to do.
Debbie: Mm... like what? [Heidi holds out handcuffs] Hey, Franny, why don’t you go downstairs to check if your Grandpa Frank is dead, okay?
Heidi: [Franny walks out bedroom] Bye, Fran. [Debbie shuts door]

Frank: [Flying up in sky on a chair in hospital gown after succumbing to a coronavirus] I’m not gonna ask your forgiveness, because you bunch didn’t do shit for me. So let’s just call it a draw. I know some of you think you hate my guts, and truth be told, I never liked any of you much either. But we’re all Gallaghers. My only advice is to stop worrying so damn much. You’re supposed to ask people on their deathbed if they wish they’d worked more or spent more time with their family. [Chuckles] Me? Hell, I wish I’d partied more. Nobody ever said our neighborhood was the Garden of Eden, but it’s been a good home to us, to me and you kids. I’m proud of all of you, because every single one of you reminds me a little bit of me. Lip, you’re smart as a whip. You just can’t seem to get outta your own way. Eh, you’ll figure it out. Ian... industrious, incredible work ethic. Not a clue where you got that from. Touch of mental illness from your mother. Only way I can understand how you ended up marrying a Milkovich. Carl... ha. I never could figure you out. Can’t believe you betrayed the family and became a cop. I’m hoping you’re already on the take. Debbie, you remind me of your mother, not in a good way. Good luck in life. You’re gonna need it. Liam, you’re the apple of my eye. You handsome devil. Everybody says you look just like me. Oh, Kev, Veronica, you’re overrated as friends. Always sticking your noses in my family’s business where they don’t belong. You’re moving. I say good riddance. And me, Frank Gallagher... father, teacher, mentor. Captain of our little ship. People say you can’t drink your troubles away. I say you’re just not drinkin’ enough. Ah... I guess that’s it. Not much left to say, really. Except…time’s precious. Don’t fuckin’ waste it. Have a good time. I sure as hell did.
Georgio: [Preparing to cremate Frank's body] Damn! What is this guy, like, 80 proof?
Marco: At least. This guy definitely liked to knock back a couple.
Georgio: Couple of cases and two bottles of JB’s more like it. [Slides Frank's body into the crematorium, close the door which explodes open in a fireball]