Shameless (American TV series)/Season 6


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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 6

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I Only Miss Her When I'm Breathing [6.01]

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Fiona: Meds?
Ian: Yes, Mom.
Fiona: I'm not your mother. I'm just concerned. Did you take them? [Closes fridge door to be startled by Frank and gasps] Fuck, Frank.
Frank: I love you. I... I just want you to know I'm... I love you. I ever tell you about the time I caught an octopus on the reef outside of our hut and Bianca cooked it on an open fire right on the beach?
Fiona: Yes.
Sean: Yes.
Frank: And the funny little sneeze she would do when she was asleep? [They all imitate Bianca's sneeze] Debs, I love you.
Debbie: Jesus.
Frank: I just... I want you to know that.
Debbie: Go away, Frank.

Frank: I... I want to light a candle for Bianca at the foot of the blessed.
Fiona: No.
Frank: I hope someday you two have the precious gift of feeling what I felt for that beautiful young woman... [sobs]... and then to have that love stolen cruelly from you by a pitiless God, and then maybe, just maybe, you'll remember this day and your father's anguish and you'll be ashamed of the lack of compassion you showed him in his time of need. I love you, my little brown banana.
Fiona: I don't know how much more of that I can take before I stab him in the neck with a broken beer bottle. What are you smiling about?
Debbie: I'm happy. Can't I be happy?
Fiona: No, not about this. There's absolutely no reason to be happy about this.

Physician: So it's positive.
Debbie: So we're pregnant?
Physician: Would you like to discuss your options going forward?
Debbie: Oh, no. No, no, thank you. We're having this baby.

Fiona: [Debbie goes to waiting room] You're not pregnant?
Debbie: I'm not. [Sighs]
Fiona: Are you okay? It's for the best, Debs. Come on, let's get jelly doughnuts before I drop you off at school.

Frank: Jesus. [Cutting in line to confessional box Uh, excuse me. I'm... I'm late for work, and you all look like you haven't had gainful employment for decades, so if you don't mind, I'll just, um... [In confessional box] Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been 23 hours since my last confession.
Confessional priest: Frank.
Frank: I just can't understand why God would take her away from me, Father. Her family threw me out of the funeral. My own family ridicules my pain. Why, Father? Why? It was God's will, and she's in a better place. But why, why, when we had just found each other? Is God really so vengeful? Why is he punishing me with this torment?
Confessional priest: All right, ten Hail Marys and light a candle.
Frank: Ten? Really? Just ten?
Confessional priest: All right, 20. What the hell do you want? Do you want me to tell you to flog yourself with a cat-o'-nine-tails, make you wear a hair shirt?
Frank: What's a hair shirt?
Confessional priest: Oh, damn it, Frank. It's not the Middle Ages, and there's a line out there for confession, so will you please let other people come in here and confess their sins?
Frank: Well, Jesus freaking Chr- if a man can't find a little comfort from the Catholic Church, maybe it's time to admit Martin Luther had a point. Let's give the Lutherans a try.
Frank: [Leaving confessional to woman he cut in line to] Don't give me that look! What could you possibly have to confess?! Your cooch dried up before Nixon went to China!

#AbortionRules [6.02]

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[Fiona wakes up in bed with Sean]
Sean: It's too early for thinking.
Fiona: Debbie's got to get an abortion. Been hashing over this all night.
Sean: You need a break.
Fiona: How could I have let this happen to her?
Sean: You didn't. Whenever a girl gets pregnant, the first thing people think is bad parenting. Uh, you're an excellent sister/parent.
Fiona: I should have made her go on the pill.
Sean: Do you want to, maybe, uh... do your taxes while we're at it? [Takes off Fiona's underwear]
Fiona: Sorry. I'm not really in the mood.
Sean: Hmm. Seems like you are to me.
Fiona: If she has this baby, she's gonna be like every other sad ass girl in this f*cking neighb- [Seans puts hand over Fiona's mouth]
Sean: Okay. You know, you got to shut up for a few minutes. You need a stress reliever and I only have 12 minutes before my meeting. So this is what's gonna happen. You're gonna shut off your brain. And you're gonna... breathe into your body.
Fiona: [Muffled] I can't breathe. Your hand is on my--
Sean: Yeah, I said shut up. Breathe through your nose. [Moans] You feel me inside of you?
Fiona: Yeah.
Sean: Relax. Close your eyes. Yeah, let me do all the work. [Grunts] Now just let go, and give yourself over to me. [Moans] That's it. Do it. Good girl. [Moans] Now I got to blue ball it over to my meeting before work. I'm gonna rally this family to make Debbie do it. Well, take it easy on her. You know how it is. You tell a teenager what to do, they always do the opposite.

Tape Kevin: You're the best tennis players on the planet. Gemma, you have the number one backhand smash in the world. Amy, you can serve and volley like no one's business. Gemma...
Veronica: Kev, I'm thinking the subliminal message thing is really working.
Tape Kevin: Gemma...
Kevin: Well, at least it put 'em to sleep.
Tape Kevin: ...gave you the nickname "The Sledgehammer."
Kevin: What, you saying my voice is boring?
Tape Kevin: No, I'm saying we got 30 minutes to get down to business while Venus and Serena finally take a nap.
Kevin: Oh, yes. Let's do this.
Tape Kevin: ...You get a tattoo of a sledgehammer on your right bicep.
Veronica: Hmm.
Tape Kevin: ...Your dad's a little disappointed by this, but he can overlook it.
Veronica: Babe?
Kevin: Hmm?
Veronica: As much as I love hearing your subliminal message voice, can we take this upstairs?
Kevin: Really? 'Cause it's kinda turning me on.
Veronica: Uh-huh. [Both laughs]
Kevin: Ooh. Come on.
Yanis: Get away from my babies before I blow your heads off!
Redhead Lisa: You should've put muzzles on them!
Kevin: Damn it! Yanis woke up the girls again. All right, I'll go deal with it. God damn it, Yanis!

Yanis: Aw, come on. You can't take them. They- those are my babies!
Redhead Lisa: We asked you to make them stop barking.
Yanis: They're dogs. They bark. That's what they fucking do!
Kevin: Yanis!
Yanis: Shut up!
Kevin: My babies haven't napped in over a week because of your loud mouth. Now, what is going on?
Yanis: These two rug-chomping dikes called Animal Services on my babies!
Kevin: All right- all right! Would you just calm down, and tell me the story without the gay bashing.
Yanis: Look, man, I've had Michael, Tito, LaToya, Marlon, and Janet since they were eight weeks old!
Redhead Lisa: They're not licensed!
Yanis: I don't know what that even-!
Kevin: Lisa and Lisa, what is going on?!
Redhead Lisa: There's feces everywhere, Kevin!
Kevin: So?!
Redhead Lisa: One of them is foaming at the mouth. They could bite our kids. Give them rabies.
Kevin: Kids? I didn't know you guys had kids.
Redhead Lisa: Not yet.
Brunette Lisa: But soon.
Yanis: Hey Tito! Daddy's gonna get you outta there!
Animal control: I need you to back away from the van, sir. Would y- !
Yanis: Wh-wh-wh- What're you gonna do with the dogs?!
Animal control: Imma bring 'em down to the shelter. Owner has seven days to get permits and provide a clean living area and pay for microchips and vaccinations. Otherwise, they become candidates for adoption or euthanasia.
Yanis: You can't kill my dogs, fuck!
Animal control: Hey, get the fuck off me. Don't make me fucking tase you!
Kevin: All right-- all right-- all right! Okay. Yanis, you're gonna get your ass thrown in jail. He- You heard the guy. You can get your dogs back. Go start by cleaning up the mounds of shit in the front yard. Go! [Yanis speaks Greek]
Kevin: Can you just go do it quietly?!
Yanis: [Speaks Greek] Oh... [scoffs] Thank you, Kevin. [Speaks Greek] Just remember, Lisa and other Lisa, we were doing fine in this neighborhood before you two moved in!

The F Word [6.03]

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[Fiona wakes up with morning sickness, runs to the bathroom finding it is occupied then vomits out a window onto Frank and his shelterees]
Frank: Jesus! Fuck. Shit. Gallagher rain. [Chuckles and speaks Spanish] Even the my daughter's vomit can't dampen the flavor of these empanadas.
Fiona: Frank, what the hell is going on?!
Frank: This Jorge Mendoza and his clan. Got evicted. Bank sold it right out from under them, and the Mendozas came home yesterday to find all their stuff on the street.
Fiona: And how is this our problem?
Frank: The loss of our unique community? Generations of the American melting pot getting kicked out of their homes. Gentrification is everyone's problem, Fiona.
Fiona: Frank, what are they doing in our yard?
Frank: I rented it to them. The shed, the van, under the porch, this grassy area. And, oh, my God, can they cook.

Fiona: Where'd all this come from?
Liam: Carl bought Froot Loops.
Carl: And cage-free organic eggs and juice with the pulp in it. [To Liam] Eat up, little homey.
Fiona: Where you getting all this money?
Carl: Juvie job. Saved up.
Fiona: You better not be selling drugs again, Carl.
Carl: Nope, no drugs. I learned my lesson. [Flashback scene reveals Carl selling handguns from a washroom stall at school]
Ian': You better watch out. If she doesn't like what you're doing, she might try to fire you from the family.
Debbie: Yeah, or try to force you to get an abortion.

Fiona: Carl, can you drop Liam at Head Start on your way to school?
Carl: Do I look like a babysitter?
Fiona: No, you look like a criminal, but last I checked, you were still a Gallagher.
Carl: Fine. Bros got to stick together. Let's go. Come on, little homey. Don't be a little shit. Let's go.
Debbie: I'm gonna be late.
Fiona: I'm pregnant, Debs.
Debbie: [Chuckles] Not funny.
Fiona: No, it's not, and it turns out that the pill is a big fucking waste of money.
Debbie: Are you lying? Are you making this up?
Fiona: You are the only one who lies about pregnancies around here. Jesus. I'm not making it up.
Debbie: Oh, my God. This is amazing. What are the chances? We can raise them together like sisters. Sister cousins! Whose is it? Is it Gus' or Sean's? If it was Gus', that'd be weird. How far along are you?
Fiona: Okay, stop, stop, stop, stop. Listen. I'm saying... I know how shitty this feels, like something's taken over your body, and you feel sick and, like, a little crazy, and I'm sorry because I didn't get that before, and I was harsh and cold and... Anyway, I'm sorry. [Hugs Debbie]
Debbie: Thank you.
Fiona: And now we can go through it together. We can go to the clinic. We'll make appointments for the same day. It'll be good. It'll be like a family outing. Like Disneyland, only with abortions.
Debbie: Wait, what? What kind of apology is that?
Fiona: Debs, I know that you think that keeping it will bring Derek back, but if he left you like this, then he doesn't deserve you, and there will be other guys that you will love--
Debbie: No, no, no, no. You're the one who sleeps around, Fiona, not me. God. You are disgusting. You're a horrible human being. You didn't even bother to divorce your husband. You just ghosted him.
Fiona: I what?
Debbie: You ghosted him. You disappeared. And now you're gonna ghost your baby. [Fiona gags, runs to washroom and retches]
Frank: [Appears in side door] Family breakfast, no one bothers to invite the padre.

Frank: [Chuckles] I'm gonna be a grandfather. From the bowels of death, new life. A new Gallagher.
Debbie: Yeah, and Fiona's pregnant too.
Frank: Shut up! [Chuckles] A double grandfather.
Debbie: Yeah, but Fiona doesn't want to have hers, and she's trying to force me to get rid of mine too. She says I'm too young.
Frank: She's wrong. Scientifically wrong. Biologically speaking, you're in your prime childbearing years. Actually, a little beyond them. If Fiona waits much longer, she's gonna have babies that look like wombats. Her labia will stretch halfway to her knees. Men wanting to do cunnilingus will require a straw. [Laughs] No, no, no, no, no, no. This is your time, Debs. Don't let anyone tell you differently.
Debbie: But what about Fiona?
Frank: She can't force you to do anything. You have the right to control your own body. But Fiona has that right too. Well, we won't let her. I had to handcuff Monica to the bed when she was pregnant with Carl. I kept her loaded for months until he was too big to abort.
Debbie: Yeah, I don't think Sean's gonna go for that.
Frank: Who's Sean?
Debbie: Her boyfriend.
Frank: I thought she was married. Never mind. I'll talk to her.
Debbie: Okay. Maybe we all should talk to her.
Frank: Absolutely. We'll talk more after school, all right? I got to run now. I can't be late for my cancer support group.
Debbie: Wait, Frank. Do you have cancer?
Frank: Not that I know of. [Knocks on head] Knock wood.

School principal: Mr. Gallagher, I'd like a word with you in my office. Students talk. They talk in the corridors, in the cafeteria. They talk, and they seem to think that if they lower their bellowing voices only slightly that I can't hear them. But I have the ears of a dog, Mr. Gallagher, the ears of a dog and the soul of a warrior. Heard you're selling weapon, son. [Sighs] There was a school shooting at Westmont last month, three kids and two teachers shot. And Bridgemont Middle School, 13-year-old lost a leg. Hobbling around on a peg now.
Carl: So?
School principal: So? You don't care about your fellow man? I want a GLOCK. A nine-millimeter semi with an extended mag but no cop-killer bullets. I need hollow tips. Can't have my bullet going through the shooter into some innocent kid.

Going Once, Going Twice [6.04]

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Fiona: Okay, so we went to the bank, and the house is being sold at auction, but there's a chance that we could buy it. So for the first time ever, it would be our house, not Aunt Ginger's, not Patrick's.
Ian: How?
Fiona: Sean's got a guy at the bank who thinks I can get a bank loan of up to 100,000.
Carl: Dollars?
Fiona: I know.
Ian: Holy shit, someone's willing to give us 100 grand?
Fiona: Yeah.
Ian: Why didn't we do this years ago?
Sean: The bank doesn't just give you money. They actually buy the house and let you live in it till you pay back the loan with interest.
Ian: Or not.
Fiona: We need a down payment of $3,500, and we need it, like, now.
Ian: I got a couple hundred.
Fiona: Okay, we could pawn the TV.
Sean: You'd get 50 bucks.
Fiona: We're brainstorming.
Carl: 3 1/2 Gs? Shit, I got you covered. What do you want? You want hundies or small bills?
Fiona: You just got out of juvie and you have $3,000?
Carl: Right.
Fiona: [Long awkward silence] No.
Carl: What, you don't believe me?
Fiona: No, I believe you, I just don't want the state seizing our house 'cause we bought it with drug money or whatever it is that you're into lately.
Frank: Let's not be hasty.
Fiona: You are not part of this conversation, Frank.
Frank: This was my house long before any of you had claim to it. Not legally, but every other way. The point is, we're Gallaghers. If Carl wants to step up-
Fiona: No.
Ian: Why do you get the last word?
Fiona: If you want to go get a mortgage with your name on it, then take Carl's money. But otherwise, we'll find another way.
Carl: I'll just spend it on my ride. If you want us, we'll be upstairs. Come on, Nick.
Frank: Carl, a word, if you would, son?
Ian: [Scoffs] I don't know why you bother calling a family meeting if you make all the decisions anyway.

Frank: Carl? Hey, hey, um... [chuckles] On behalf of all of us, I want to acknowledge your generosity. The fact that you've reached this level of success in your chosen field-
Carl: How much you need? 40? 60, if it's not a problem. Bill, even.
Frank: You've come a long way, son. It warms my heart to know that at least one Gallagher has lived up to his genetic potential. When you were six, I- when- [Carl slams his bedroom door]

Fiona: You get why I don't want to take Carl's money, right? It's like saying that it's cool that he's a criminal, like we've given up on him.
Sean: I get it.
Fiona: You're giving me that look like you're gonna try to give me some really wise, meaningful advice.
Sean: Are your boobs bigger?
Fiona: That's what you were thinking?
Sean: They are, right?
Fiona: [Chuckles] Well, enjoy them while you can. I'm gonna have to reschedule the abortion until after the auction.
Sean: About that deposit, uh, you know, I... I do have some savings I could kick in.
Fiona: No, no, no, thank you. It's a Gallagher thing.
Sean: If you lose the house, it's gonna be somebody else's thing. So where's that money coming from?
Fiona: I have an idea. I'm just not sure how I feel about it yet. I'll let you know when I decide.
Sean: Savings, huh? Literally hundreds of dollars. [Fiona chuckles heartily] Fucking gold digger.

Veronica: Okay. So... I only got an hour, then I got to meet Svetlana to check out the competition.
Fiona: Which is?
Veronica: Public Restroom. That's what it's called and they serve tapas. I mean, who goes to a place called Restroom and is like, "You know what? I think I want to order some food"?
Fiona: Hold on, hold on. Yeah, I'm here.
Veronica: Sure.
Fiona: Thank you so much for all your help, Peter. I'll let you know how it goes. Holy shit!
Veronica: It came through?
Fiona: Pre-certified for a mortgage loan of up to $100,000.
Veronica: Did those bankers not learn anything from that mortgage crisis bullshit? I mean, no offense, but giving that kind of money to you?
Fiona: Totally. And thank God for Sean. He was the one who pushed me to get this loan.
Veronica: Aw, he's like Superman, except for the whole junkie thing. Does he know about Gus's ring?
Fiona: Well, he knows that it exists, but not that I'm pawning it.
Veronica: Let's see.
Fiona: [Sighs] You know, I've been trying to, like, get angry at Gus, thinking about that bitchy song that he wrote about me, but anyway you look at it, this is shitty.
Veronica: [Clicks tongue] Oh. It belonged to his grandmama?
Fiona: Yeah, his dead grandma. And there's some story, like she survived the Holocaust with it, like in her cooch.
Veronica: What?
Fiona: Yeah, it's something intense.
Veronica: Well, you should get extra for dead grandma's cooch ring.
Fiona: I had it appraised. The guy said it's worth $7,000.
Veronica: Seven- Seven grand, are you serious?
Fiona: Mm-hmm.
Veronica: Fuck Gus's dead grandmama. Go on and buy your house.

Helene: My book is toast. I was humiliated in front of my peers by a gay Jesuit. It's great that guys study feminism. It's- you know, it shouldn't make it worse that it was a guy, but it does.
Lip: You know, you might want to wait till you're sober before you start to assess your life.
Helene: Am I a cliché?
Lip: What?
Helene: You know, Mrs. Robinson chasing young guys. [Chuckles]
Lip: Well, Mrs. Robinson was hot, so that's not a bad thing. No, you're not a cliché.
Helene: One day- someday...
Lip: Mm-hmm.
Helene: ...you're gonna be with a girl your age and you're gonna tell her about... the older woman who taught you about wine and hotels and bidets. [Laughs softly] Bellhop thought we were married.
Lip: Did he?
Helene: Mm. Is that so crazy? When you and I got together, I was looking for a fling, but this is... different. It's so much more than that.
Lip: Yeah.
Helene: Yeah.

Refugees [6.05]

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Carl: It's our crib
Fiona: Not anymore.
Carl: Who says?
Ian: State of Illinois.
Carl: They can't just take it from us.
Fiona: I don't have time to explain foreclosure law to you.
Carl: Those are the stairs where I broke my arm for the first time.
Ian: Yeah, and the second. Oh, and the fifth.
Carl: That table is where Liam was born.
Fiona: There's nothing we can do.
Frank: Can you keep it down in there? Copper pipes aren't gonna take out themselves. While Rome burns, you eat waffles.
Ian: You gonna tear apart the place piece by piece?
Frank: Scorched earth. The preferred method of defeated generals who refused to allow their conquerors the satisfaction.
Carl: Of taking a dump?
Frank: Copper's two bucks a pound.
Fiona: Look, we don't have the luxury to sit around and get weepy. We need a place to live.
Carl: Let's see them try to get Nick and I out. We'll take positions up at the upstairs windows with M16s.
Fiona: Carl.
Carl: Throw Liam at the bottom of the stairs with some grenades. [To Liam who nods] Think you can pull a pin and throw it? Strap Chuckie up with some explosives and throw him off the roof.
Fiona: Do any of that and they'll try you as an adult. That's big boy prison. Look, the house is gone. It's over. We need to move on.
Chuckie: This is all cause of the mud people. [Points to Nick]
Ian: What the fuck...
Chuckie: That's what my friends in juvie said. [Frank laughs] What? What did I say?
Ian: Chuckie, if you want to stay alive, shut up and go to school.
Carl: Where's Lip at? He'd back me up on this.
Fiona: I told him we didn't need him. He needs to focus on school.

[Lip and Helene are making passionate love against a book shelf]
Lip: That's too much?
Helene: No. Don't you dare stop.

Lip: [Observing books on floor] Well, looks like an earthquake hit. Hope we didn't tip off the neighbors.
Helene: Don't be late for class.
Lip: You know, I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to remember where the room is after so many blows to my skull. You put "Atlas Shrugged" on the top shelf? Hardcover?
Helene: Aww, did Ayn Rand hurt your poor little skull?
Lip: You know, I'm pretty sure she gave me a contusion.
Helene: You should read it. She's got some interesting things to say.
Lip: Ah, no thanks. Every Libertarian was born on third base and thinks he hit a triple.
Helene: All right What about Klimt then? I got it for you. Those paintings I mentioned. Prepare to have your mind blown.
Lip: I'll, uh, I'll check it out.
Helene: What?
Lip: No... nothing.
Helene: [Leans into Lip getting ahold of his shirt] Theo's going out of town for work. Keep me company tonight?

Carol: Lord Jesus, thank you for bringing us together to study your word and bask in your glory. Amen.
Bible study group: Amen.
Carol: Who else would like to show the Lord his gratitude?
Kevin: Right here, Carol. Lord, please let my baby girls grow up to have wicked backhands and 120 mile-per-hour serves.
Carol: This is Bible study, Kevin. We're here to praise Jesus, not ask him for favors.
Kevin: Right. Right, I'm sorry. Can I just do one more real quick? Jesus, please help Yanis rest in peace so I can get some rest and not have panic attacks, and not soil my pants.
Carol: Is that everybody?
Bible study group: Yes.
Carol: Well, I'll see you next week. There's coffee and muffins in the kitchen.
Kevin: They're a day old, but no mold. I checked. Praise Jesus.
Carol: Oh, and don't forget, we still need a volunteer to host the foster child we're receiving this morning. Thank you for coming.
Kevin: We'll take him.
Veronica: What?
Carol: Bless you, Kevin. He's on his way from Myanmar to a dairy farm in Wisconsin. Oh, it- it- it's only for a couple of days. Oh, this is- praise Jesus. Thank you. Oh.
Veronica: The hell you doing?
Kevin: It's a kid in need. If I do God a solid, he'll do me one. Eye for an eye.
Veronica: That is not what "eye for an eye" means.
Kevin: Oh, how do you know what the good book means? You were doing your nails the whole time.
Veronica: Forget that barbecued Greek. It wasn't your fault.
Kevin: Of course it was. What are you talking about, V? If it wasn't for me, Yanis would still be alive. Please, baby.

Frank: [Frank pulls out a circuit breaker causing the electricity to go out] Whoo. If I go along with getting a new crib, it better be sick.
Fiona: We can't pay any more than we already were. We were barely making ends meet as it was.
Carl: Why you acting like we ain't got no lettuce?
Fiona: Lettuce?
Carl: The Benjamins. Cash. Money. Say the word, and I'll make it rain up in here.
Fiona: I told you, I'm not taking your dirty money.
Frank: It must be wonderful living in your little fantasy world where unicorns slide down magical rainbows and everybody on the South Side gets by on the up and up. What do you think this neighborhood runs on? It ain't donuts. Without heroes like Carl here driving our shadow economy, we would've gone the way of the dodo years ago. Hey, can I, um, can I get a relocation advance? [Carl gives Frank a dollar bill] Thank you.
Fiona: [A couple walks in front door with two daughters] Yo! What the hell?!
Man: I didn't realize the house was still occupied.
Fiona: Oh, shit. You're the new owners.

NSFW [6.06]

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Carl: [Holds up cup of coffee to Nick] Good thing we didn't get that apartment. Hotels are for ballers. [Holds up coffee] Black with 12 sugars. Sweet and dark, just like your bitches. National Cheerleading Championships just rolled in. Honeys all up and down this mofo. Let's go down to the gym. Bouncing treadmill titties. [Nick rolls over passively dejected ] Not even titties? Can't stay messed up about that bike forever, man.
Nick: Not gonna be forever.
Carl: How long?
Nick: Till I make it right. [Carl eyes Nick's handgun on table]

Debbie: [Wakes up next to Erica with her arm over her and Frank wakes past ignoring Debbie's gesture to help her and climbs out window] Holy shit.
Erica: Why am I here?
Debbie: Uh... [chuckles] You crawled into bed hammered, then sang a little and passed out.
Erica: Oh, no. Not Melissa Etheridge.
Debbie: I don't know who that is.
Erica: [Sighs] Did I do anything else?
Debbie: Uh, you groped me a little.
Erica: Oh, my God. I'm so sorry.
Debbie: No worries.

Frank: Good morning! I'm here to concierge you through your hangover and straight into your doctor's appointment!
Erica: I passed out in Debbie's bed last night.
Frank: Yikes. How'd she take it?
Erica: Fine, but I- I feel like an idiot. What's gotten into me? I'm not attracted to her. I feel maternal towards her.
Frank: It's a nurturing instinct. She's very nurture-able.
Erica: I'm losing my shit, Frank. It's hitting me. I just keep thinking about that coffin and my body inside it. I'm gonna puke. [Covers mouth with hand and runs away]
Frank: [To Debbie] How was last night's tangle?
Debbie: Huh?
Frank: You and Erica. [Gestures] Little scissor action?
Debbie: Ew, no. It was so not like that. She was just drunk and confused, and she's married to a guy.
Frank: A woman's sexuality is as fluid as the Mississippi. Mark my words, kid. She's sweet on you. You are so sexy when you're in the thrall of a small lit rectangle.

Ian: Uh, I need to ask you advice. I'm going on a date.
Lip: Yeah, with the fireman?
Ian: Yeah. You know, Mickey and I never went out on dates. Ned never took me out. Kash and I fucked in the back of a convenience store, and I don't think jerking off strangers in a nightclub counts, so...
Lip: Well, how hard can it be? You know, you eat, you drink, and you bang till your balls fall off, right?
Ian: What about clothes?
Lip: I'd definitely wear some.
Ian: Yeah, asshole, I mean, like, what kind? Like fancy?
Lip: Shit, I don't know, man. I've never really been on a real date, either. You know, not like an official one. [Pounding on door] One sec. [Opens door] Yo.
Male student: Holy shit, dude. Been online yet?
Lip: No, I just woke up.
Male student: That picture of your lady professor showed up on Gawker this morning.
Lip: What?
Male student: [Turns laptop around to show him] It's labeled "not safe for work." [A picture of Helene sleeping in Lip's bed with exposed breasts is displayed]
Lip: I've got 106 new emails. The provost wrote me?
Ian: What's a provost?
Lip: Being asked to appear before a Faculty Disciplinary Committee. Damn.

[Frank is at Debbie's ultrasound]
Debbie: Oh, my God. Is that him or her?
Frank: Look at that face. Already up to no good. It's a Gallagher all right. [Chuckles] I remember the first time I saw Fiona in Monica's gut. She looked like a rotting apricot. I screamed, "What the fuck is that?!" And we were on a lot of drugs, but that fetus just looked unholy. Came out perfect, though.
Ultrasound technician: You sure you don't want to know the gender?
Frank: Before we knew your gender we called you The Tumor. Then they said you were a girl. All of a sudden you were Debbie.
Debbie: I was Debbie?
Frank: Once you know the gender, your fetus goes from a clump of cells to a genuine person. It's something. Got to run.
Ultrasound technician: Tell you what. I'll write it down, stick it in an envelope. You can hang onto it and decide later.
Debbie: Cool.
Frank: Promised Erica I'd pick her up after her scan. Rampant metastasis, here we come.

Pimp's Paradise [6.07]

edit
Fiona: Your mouth would be a much better alarm.
Sean: Ah, well, hit snooze and let's double our luck.
Fiona: I got to get back.
Sean: Oh. I got to not let you get back.
Fiona: [Laughs] This has been really nice, past couple of nights. No kids. No chaos.
Sean: But... You need the chaos?
Fiona: I need to check on some things.
Sean: Mm. Does Frank still have that hippie over there?
Fiona: Ugh, yeah, doing God knows what.
Sean: Well, no hippies here. Just me and you.

Frank: [Calling upstairs and then sits at table] Okay. Breakfast, my offspring. Who wants to join Papa and Queenie for some morning fuel?
Queenie: [Hands him a cup of green smoothie] Mmm. Cleans your insides, Frankie. Smells like you wouldn't know a colon cleanse if it ran right through your cute little rectum. [They both laugh]
Frank: Thank you, my confederate Queen. Rest of these ingrates could care less about the state of my colon, but not you.
Queenie: Well, you're the king of your castle, Frankie. Don't let those young uns forget who's papa.
Frank: I'm glad someone finally recognizes that.
Queenie: And you're still a sexy fucker.
Frank: I got a brand-new liver. I'm as good as 18 again.
Queenie: Ah, hell of a stud you were at that age. You could do things with your tongue that would make a rattlesnake blush.
Frank: Whoo! Best sexual era of my life.
Queenie: Mm.
Frank: South Side was never so bright as the day you crossed the Mason-Dixon Line and came into my loins. [Laughs] And now, it's 18-year-old déjà vu all over again.
Queenie: Oh, just temporary, Frankie. The grandson's probation papers should be coming through in the next three days, and then it is back to the Eco Village for Chuckie and me.
Frank: That's nonsense. What do they got on a farm we don't have here?
Queenie: Eco-conscious living. Everything is solar powered. Working out there as an herbalist.
Frank: An herbalist?
Queenie: Yeah, organic farming. It's not like all this urban wasteland that you have here. I finally found my calling, Frankie. Helping and healing people, that's what I do.
Frank: You can't leave now. We're having too much fun. What's a king without a Queenie by his side?
Queenie: Well, them's the rules of free love, Frankie. Mwah. Mama is a rollin' stone. Now drink up.

[Chuckie knocks on front door and Frank appears]
Frank: Kid, what are you doing here?
Chuckie: They sent me home from school. [Attempts to go in house but Frank thwarts him]
Frank: Well, beat it. Your grandma and I are gonna get into some action. No cock-blocking. [Chuckie turns around]
Queenie: [Appears in door] Hey, wait. What's going on here?
Frank: [Gets ahold of Chuckie and guides him into house] Yeah, buddy, who got you all snot-nosed?
Queenie: [They sit on couch] Oh, my gosh. Who upset my little woodchuck?
Chuckie: They suspended me.
Queenie: Well, wh- you weren't fighting, were you? You're still on probation.
Chuckie: No. My teacher wouldn't let me share my book report in class and sent me to the principal's office.
Queenie: Well, what for?
Frank: [Takes report from Chuckie] Well, it's just a wild guess, but maybe the report topic. [Hands report to Queenie]
Queenie: Mein Kampf. Hitler's Mein Kampf?
Frank: Advanced-level fascism. I didn't even know the boy could read.
Queenie: [Sighs] Well, I would have preferred Gandhi, but it's not your fault. The juvenile prison system has warped your brain.

School principal: Mr. and Mrs. Slott--
Sammi: Gallagher for me.
School principal 1: Your grandson Charles tried to read a very offensive book report to Mr. Schwiebert's class.
Sammi: The boy doesn't know what he's saying.
Frank: Our grandson is a little slow between the ears.
School principal 2: Your grandson seems to believe that he's a Nazi. Any ideas where he's getting that from?
Sammi: Most likely other Nazis.
School principal 1: Charles received a suspension as a lesson for his behavior and a failing grade on the paper.
Queenie: His shit-for-brains mother couldn't pass gas, let alone middle school. My grandson wrote an entire report here and you're gonna fail him for this?
Frank: Hey, I read it. A couple of grammatical things here and there. He didn't remember to capitalize Auschwitz, but the kid can write.
School principal 2: Hitler's diatribe on Aryan superiority is not an appropriate theme for a sixth grade book report.
Frank: Did you tell the class they couldn't write about Nazis?
School principal 2: Well, usually, they're not writing from the Nazi perspective, so no. Look, it's okay to write about mass murders. You just can't side with the mass murderers.
Frank: Uh, this is a direct attack on his First Amendment rights, a right, I might add, that belongs to everyone regardless of intelligence deficiencies or possible retardation. Yes, but there are conditions to those rights, like yelling "fire" in a public theater or preaching white supremacy to middle school students.
School principal 1: Look, we simply can't allow Hitler's hate speech to alienate our diverse student body. We've worked very hard to create an open atmosphere for all our students.
Frank: Look, you can't go teaching equality and then get your human rights panties in a bunch when it comes with a couple of wedgies. Every asshole is entitled to his beliefs. That's the yin and the yang of democracy. It's the same freedom that allows you to teach wearing [[w:Kippah|that silly beanie and those Crayola-colored kids out there to go to school together. It- it doesn't matter anyway. Pretty soon, there's not gonna be any Jew or Aryan or Hindu or Muslim or Mexican or Blacks. There's just gonna be the rich and the fucked, and our grandson is already one of the fucked. So at least let the boy express the degenerate ideas he can actually comprehend, and that, my multicultural friends, is liberty and justice for all! Or we could call the attorney general and the ACLU. I'm sorry, I probably should have started with that.

[Camera is panning up aisle to Chuckie is reading his report to his classmates with their parents at the side]
Chuckie: So the superiors put all the inferiors in bad summer camps 'cause they didn't want 'em crossin' the border and ruinin' the neighborhood, and that is why Hitler is a great American leader. [Camer view reveals classmates and parents all looking in absolute dismay]
Frank: [Walks over to Chuckie and puts hands on his shoulders] German, but I think you've made your point here, my young Trump.

Be a Good Boy. Come for Grandma [6.08]

edit
Queenie: Tribe! Breakfast! [Gallagher kids come filing in] Good morning. Morning.
Debbie: Why are we in here?
Queenie: We eat in the dining room like civilized people.
Ian: Since when?
Queenie: Since Queenie. Have a seat. Let's get you your flaxseed oil pills. [To Ian] Good for the heart. [To Liam] Mmm. Good for the hair, [TO Chuckie] your colon, [To Frank's place] Daddy, [To Carl] prostate, yeah, [To Debbie] and your baby.
Frank: [Sets down pans] Quinoa pancakes and yucca fries.
Ian: What the hell is a quinoa?
Chuckie: Yucca fries sound yucca.
Carl: [Gets up] Yeah, I'm just gonna go to Mickey D's.
Ian: [Gets up] I'm gonna study at my boyfriend's.
Debbie: [Gets up] Carl, can you give me a ride to the baby store?
Queenie: [Pounds table] Come back now. Look, your father went to great lengths to prepare this breakfast for you with love. So you're gonna sit your little asses down and enjoy it. [Tussling Frank's hair] Need to have a little more respect for this man right here.
Frank: Yeah, you hear that?
Queenie: [Sings] Help me, I think I'm falling [Frank joins in] In love again [To Debbie and Carl] Join us.
Debbie: I don't know the words.
Queenie and Frank: When I get that crazy feeling, I know I'm in trouble again
Carl: I don't want to know the words.
Queenie: Fake it. [Sings] I'm in trouble, 'Cause you're a rambler and a gambler, and a sweet-talking ladies' man...
[Frank answers door to Lamar still singing]
Lamar: What the fuck?!
Frank: And you are?
Lamar: Lamar. Is Carl here?
Frank: He's enjoying breakfast with his family. Come back some other time?
Carl: I got it, Frank.
Frank: [Sings] I've seen some hard, hard cases come down to smoke and ash...
Lamar: Haven't checked in lately, white boy. Where the fuck you been at?
Carl: Been here and there. G-Dogg got a shipment coming through tomorrow. Need you to run it. I think Imma sit this one out.
Lamar: Sit this one out? [Scoffs] You a comedian?
Carl: No. [Lamar pistol whips Carl on the forehead who falls down]
Lamar: [To Carl with a bleeding forehead] You think you can just tag in and out like a little girl playing Chinese jump rope? You in this game for life, fuck, so get your ass to the spot tomorrow morning.

Sean: I kind of love you right now.
Fiona: You better. [Laughs]

[Frank and Queenie are making love with Frank on top]
Queenie: Your queen doth love what you do with your scepter, King Frank. [both laugh]
Frank: Oh, God. Your king... is about to blow his load into your moat, my queen. [both laugh]
Queenie: One thing before you do, my regal stallion.
Frank: Huh? Pray tell, my love. Huh? What? [Queenie flips over with Frank] Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Queenie: [Laughs] Oh, yeah. We're almost out of shillings
Frank: Oh, you tell me that now?
Queenie: Well, I'm gonna have to go back to the commune and get more organic produce and sell it.
Frank: [Repeatedly] I'll get money. [Flips Queenie over with him back on top]
Queenie: Proceed with your manly duties, my lord Yes. Oh, fuck me.
Frank: [Carl is outside bedroom door and puts hoodie over ears] I'm coming my brains out.
Queenie: Come in.
Carl: Frank, I need to talk to you.
Queenie: [Gets up to leave] I will leave the king and the prince to do their business.
Carl: It smells gross in here.
Frank: That, my son, is the beautiful stench of animal, lust, and earth. I'm glad you came by.

Frank: [Walks into an African-American barbershop] Do you take walk-ins? [Staff and patrons stare silently]

Veronica: [Administering stitches to Carl] So you gonna tell me what happened?
Carl: No.
Veronica: Why not?
Carl: You'll tell Fiona.
Veronica: What's wrong with me telling her?
Carl: She freaks out about everything.
Veronica: What if I promise not to say anything to her?
Carl: Why do you want to know anyway?
Veronica: Because you've been running your ass around here like a black Scarface, and I care about you, okay?
Carl: Just got hit, that's all.
Veronica: By whom?
Carl: Guy I know.
Veronica: Any particular reason?
Carl: 'Cause I don't want to work with him anymore.
Veronica: And he clocked you for that?
Carl: Mm-hmm.
Veronica: Get out of that shit you're involved in, you hear me? Now.
Carl: I got it handled.

A Yurt's Of One's Own [6.09]

edit
Ian: Slept here last night?
Fiona: Yeah.
Ian: What are you writing?
Fiona: A letter to Sean's ex-wife.
Ian: Oof. How come?
Fiona: Ask Carl.
Ian: Carl, why is Fiona writing a letter to Sean's ex-wife?
Fiona: I don't want to talk about it.
Ian: Okay, great. I'll just stand here and drink my coffee in silence.
Fiona: Where are you going?
Debbie: To the commune with Queenie.
Fiona: Except you're not, 'cause you have school, remember?
Debbie: I need a supportive environment. Not gonna get it here.
Fiona: So that's it for high school, huh? Pregnant dropout at 15. Well played.
Debbie: Don't pretend you care.
Ian: You got to graduate, Debs.
Debbie: Have you heard of "unschooling"? It's a widely recognized form of education.
Ian: By who?
Debbie: Queenie says it's when you get knowledge from life instead of books. Like making spaghetti, when you measure water, pasta, salt. That's math.
Fiona: No, that's pathetic.
Debbie: If I'm desperate, I can just get my GED. You know, like you did.
Fiona: Queenie, are you going to support Debbie as she "unschools" her way through life?
Debbie: Ignore her.
Queenie: Well, I have so many friends in the commune who have never had a day of conventional education, and they have so much worldly wisdom.
Ian: Like boiling pasta.
Fiona: You want to quit school, Debs, I can't stop you. Enjoy yourself at... what is it?
Queenie: Soaring Consciousness Ecovillage. A hundred acres, very peaceful. Oh, and if you see Lip, tell him never to stifle his passion. Ta-ta.
Frank: What's this?
Queenie: Hey, Frankie, baby. We're off to the commune.
Frank: What?
Queenie: Chuckie's probation papers came yesterday. Grandma is a rolling stone.
Frank: That's a great idea. Lying under the stars in a rural paradise. Fresh air, crackling fire. Jeez, that sounds nice. Are we taking the van? [Gets in]
Queenie: Don't you need to pack?
Frank: No, no. I'm good.
Queenie: Okay.

Bar patron: Where's my change?
Svetlana: In tip jar.
Bar patron: I wasn't planning on tipping five bucks.
Svetlana: Exactly.
Bar patron: What's her problem?
Kevin: Well, her dad sold her into sexual slavery. Pretty much put her in a bad mood for life.

Lester: What's that accent, Polish?
Kevin: It's Russian.
Lester: So she wasn't born here.
Kevin: Sent over in a shipping crate.
Lester: You pay her under the table?
Kevin: Shit, yeah. How do you think this place stays open?
Lester: Excuse me. I'm Officer Lester Hibbert from United States Citizenship and Immigration Services.
Kevin: Wait, what?
Lester: According to your boss, you came to this country illegally.
Svetlana: Nice.
Kevin: I didn't know he was whatever he said.
Lester: I came here to unwind. You treated me like shit. And then you took my last five bucks. [Motions to a table] Now we're gonna have a conversation.
Veronica: He's with Immigration?
Kevin: I had no idea. I didn't see his badge.

[Van arrives at the commune]
Frank: [Gets out van] Ooh, a little nippy.
Debbie: [Gets out holding up phone] Freezing. And no service. Where's your house?
Chuckie: [Points] My tent's right up there.
Debbie: Your tent?
Chuckie: We gonna see a mountain lion?
Queenie: No, we're not, Chuckles.
Frank: You were right all along. I wasn't listening. This is where we were meant to be together. Out in the fresh, crisp air, the smell of pine.
Queenie: Jupiter.
Jupiter: You were sorely missed. [He and Queenie hold each others heads and lean towards each other touching foreheads]
Queenie: Everybody, this is Jupiter, a founding father of Soaring Conciousness.
Jupiter: [Referring to Debbie] And is this...?
Queenie: The one I wrote to you about.
Jupiter: [Walks up to Debbie and puts both hands on shoulders] We all hoped you'd come, Deborah. And here you are. Here, let me help you inside. [Wraps blanket on Debbie]
Frank: Nice of you to bring her a blanket. It is chilly. I know I'm cold.

Debbie: Oh, my God. It's so beautiful. And so warm. [Chuckles]
Woman: It's the only tent with electric heat.
Debbie: Is this your tent?
Queenie: No. It's yours, Deborah.
Debbie: What?
Queenie: This is the maternity tent. There's lavender and rose petals and the water sounds.
Debbie: And what's that?
Queenie: That is a fertility goddess.
Woman: No male energy here.
Debbie: Hmm.

Paradise Lost [6.10]

edit
Debbie: Aah! This hurts so much! Queenie! Aah!
Queenie: Hey. Are you all right?
Debbie: I think I felt something. [Groans] Like a cramp.
Queenie: Did it hurt?
Debbie: [Groans] I'm not due for another week.
Queenie: Mother nature knows no clock. Orgasms can induce. I'm surprised the baby didn't pop out days ago, the way you've been strumming your guitar.
Debbie: A- am I in labor? Is the baby coming?
Queenie: No, just relax. Not for a while, okay? But still, I think we should go.
Debbie: Go where?
Queenie: To the birthing tent.

Frank: [Walking through heroin grow-op] Oh. [Laughs softly] What a beautiful day to grow poppies. [To Chuckie with facial scratch marks] Whoo-hoo! You're lucky that cat couldn't aim for shit. Careful, once cougars get a taste, they come back for more. [To woman watering] Not too much, Moon.
Jupiter: Frank. You're supposed to be working compost.
Frank: You spend the day in a steaming pile of excrement. I'll be in here with the opium.
Jupiter: I run the warehouse.
Frank: I thought we share everything on the commune. Opium, compost, Queenie. Except when it comes to orgasms. Those Queenie only shares with me. Do you want some constructive criticism?
Jupiter: No.
Frank: You put Queenie to sleep. There's no rhythm. Your penis is like a sexual lullaby. You got to treat a woman like a poppy. Know when to be gentle, and when to be rough. Give 'em what they need, you'll have the best high you ever had.

Kevin: [Comes down stairs to find Veronica and Svetlana asleep on couch] What's with the slumber party?
Veronica: Oh. The babies awake?
Kevin: Not yet. You didn't come to bed.
Veronica: Oh, we were celebrating, and I fell asleep.
Kevin: Celebrating what?
Svetlana: I get divorce. Woot woot!
Veronica: The papers came through. Lana is single.
Svetlana: Mm!
Veronica: Lana?
Svetlana: Yes, what V calls me.
Kevin: What, you have a pet name for her?
Veronica: It helps sell it.
Kevin: Sell what?
Svetlana: Our loving dyke. [Svetlana grabs Veronica's breast with both laughing]
Kevin: No. No, no, no, no, no. We dropped the whole marriage idea.
Svetlana: You drop.
Kevin: I'm not talking to you. V, marriage is a sacred institution.
Veronica: It's just for immigration.
Kevin: You're talking about being married to another person.
Veronica: You are.
Kevin: Yeah, okay, so? But- look, you and I aren't married on paper, right? But that doesn't change how I feel.
Veronica: Me neither. It's not a big deal.
Svetlana: Give blessing. Is least you can do.
Kevin: Hey, you the one who outed her to the INS. Stop ganging up on me. There are other options besides marriage.
Veronica: What? Immigration is gonna put her back on the next boat to Moscow.
Kevin: I'll figure it out.
Svetlana: No time.
Kevin: I'll fix it by the end of the day, okay? Just... no more pet names.

Fiona: It's in here somewhere.
Veronica: I didn't think your wedding was gonna become an annual tradition like Thanksgiving.
Fiona: I asked Lip and Ian to walk me down the aisle.
Veronica: The ink's barely dry on your divorce.
Fiona: Why are you giving me a hard time?
Veronica: I love you, but if you're gonna change your mind, do it before I shell out the money for your bachelorette party tonight.
Fiona: I'm not changing my mind. And it wasn't my idea to have it this early. Look, I am not showing up to your wedding all bloated and looking like shit.
Veronica: I need time to recuperate.
Fiona: Uh, weeks?
Veronica: I plan on drinking a lot.
Fiona: [Gasps] I found it.
Veronica: Where did Monica get the bread for a wedding dress?
Fiona: This was back when her parents had a little money. And they approved of the first wedding.
Veronica: First?
Fiona: She married Frank twice. First time only lasted a week. She locked him in the trunk of the car. Left him in the Kmart parking lot for days.

Frank:[Walks up to a tent standing outside] Debs, we never talked baby names. What do you think about naming her after your great-grandmother? She was a vicious cunt, but "Rose Gallagher" has a- a ring to it, don't you think?
Queenie: What are you doing, Frank?
Frank: Checking on my daughter.
Queenie: Oh, she's not in there. We took her to the birthing tent.
Frank: Debs is in labor?
Queenie: Well, maybe. But if she is, the baby won't come for a day or two.

Sleep No More [6.11]

edit
Fiona: [Scoffs] It's none of my business. She's made that abundantly clear. She's not sleeping, eating, showering. I wish she'd let one of you just hold the baby.
Lip: Well, maybe she's got that postpartum thing. You know, when girls go feral in corners and gouge anyone's eyes out who gets too close.
Fiona: What're those, uh, things called that guys wear at weddings. The flower things?
Frank: Uh, yeah, boutonnieres.
Fiona: Lip and Ian get 'em, right?
Frank: Yeah.
Fiona: I gotta meet with the florist, figure out what I'm orderin'.
Frank: If they're walking you down the aisle, they get 'em.
Fiona: Uh, and ushers, groomsmen...
Frank: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, my daughter will be accompanied by her father as she ambles to the altar.
Fiona: Her who? Oh, you mean that deadbeat that consistently fails to take care of his family?
Frank: I may not have been present for your first steps or your first lost tooth or your first blow job, but as patriarch, I'm entitled to my traditional place of honor next to you for your big day.
Fiona: Then it's my traditional right to ask said patriarch to pay for it.
Frank: Done.
Fiona: What?
Frank: Done. I'll pay. In money. Cash. Dinero. Greenbacks.
Fiona: Well, you know, if you're catching up on, uh, Dad shit, you can cover my tuition. Teach me how to ride a bike. I never had a sweet sixteen. Could throw me one after the wedding.

Frank: [Soliciting outside grocery store] Don't let the death of an orphaned African child be on your conscience this holiday season. $20 buys him food for a day. Thank you. Thank you so much. His parents were mauled by vicious rebels. He has AIDS. Please, give money. Yeah, save that 20 for a bag of Peruvian mangoes. Tropical fruit is more important than a dying orphan. Keep shivering. That's really great. His immune system is breaking down. We need money for doctors. Oh, you have no money? And you're going into a grocery store? Interesting. Don't let the death of an orphaned African child be on your conscience this holiday season. $20 buys him food for a day. Thank you. Thank you so much.

Veronica: And then she picked up my babies, one on each hip, and she whispered into their ears and they both stopped crying immediately, and I was like, "Damn. This crazy Russian is magical." I knew then that I wanted her in my life forever.
Lester: And, Mrs. Fisher, when did you first realize you were in love with Mrs. Fisher?
Svetlana: Oh, first time I saw her. We were in bar where we work. This thing happened... [speaks Russian]. It's when your eyes, they climb onto your head. This happened to me.
Lester: Well, your individual interview answers line up for the most part and your joint interview has been shockingly credible. I've been at this job eight years. Never seen a setup quite like this.
Veronica: So did we pass?
Lester: Well, I don't buy a word of it, but so far I don't have any evidence to the contrary. I'll review your documents, follow through with family and friends. I'll make a few more follow-up visits. Can't wait to see how far you ladies take this.

Teacher: Can't bring a crying baby to class.
Debbie: Oh, can I at least pick up my assignments?
Teacher: You need to talk to the counselor and figure out how to continue your studies at home.
Debbie: Well, I want to finish school, so let me learn.
Teacher: Okay, here's a lesson: use condoms.

Sean: You're not falling for Frank's "father of the bride" shtick, are ya?
Fiona: Nothing to fall for.
Sean: Well, from here, it looks like ya might be.
Fiona: I'm not letting him in. I'm letting him pay. There's a big difference.
Sean: Just don't want you to be disappointed again.
Fiona: [Laughs] Frank has let me down my entire life. This will be no different. I just wanna watch him fake like he's a human for a while. For fun.
Sean: Yeah, fun. Whoo-hoo.
Fiona: Ok, let's make a bet. How long till Frank bails? I give it two days.
Sean: One. If that.
Fiona: If I win, you have to go down on me every night for a week.
Sean: Hmm. And if you lose?
Fiona: Same deal.
Sean: You drive a hard bargain, Gallagher.

Family Above Gallegorious Everything! [6.12]

edit
Fiona: Hey, bean. Cinnamon waffles?
Carl: We have an iron?
Fiona: Mm-hmm. Uh, you need me to iron a shirt for you?
Carl: I got it. Ironing board? [Fiona points to iron board on stairs and Carl brings it down]
Fiona: [Carl is trying to figure out how to unfold it] It's the little lever thing. [Carl unfolds in one motion and sets it down] Shh. Gah, baby's sleeping. Debs was up with her all night. And I really don't mind doing it.
Carl: No, it's fine. I have to learn to do it for myself, right? Do my part.
Fiona: Are you wearing cologne?
Carl: Aftershave. Good for razor burn. Is there any wedding stuff going on tonight?
Fiona: Uh, nope. You're in the clear till tomorrow. Why?
Carl: Gonna watch the DePaul game with Luther tonight.
Fiona: Luther?
Carl: Dominique's dad.
Fiona: Girlfriend's father, huh? Sounds like it's getting serious.
Carl: Definitely.
Fiona: You get really serious, you know to use protection, right? Condoms? No matter what. We don't need any more accidents around here.
Debbie: [Comes down stairs] Huh, oh, you mean accidents like Franny.
Fiona: Franny still asleep?
Debbie: No, I left her up there screaming, hungry, wallowing in a dirty diaper to suffer.

Carl: Good morning, sir.
Luther: Carl.
Carl: I'm here to pick Dominique up for school. May I come in?
Luther: No. Dom. Your white boy's here.
Carl: I decided to take up on your advice and help more around the house. I ironed my own shirt this morning. Nice gun, sir. Cross draw. Sig Sauer 226?
Luther: You know your guns.
Carl: Thank you, sir.
Luther: Wasn't a compliment, son. Dominique.
Carl: I'm excited about watching the game with you tonight, sir.
Luther: You what?
Carl: Yeah.

[Frank approaches Bruno busy using a forklift at his workplace]
Frank: Hey. Bruno. It's me, Frank. From the El. I got the rest.
Bruno: Rest of what?
Frank: The... the rest of the money for you to take care of that thing? You know? The thing we talked about on the train? The other night?
Bruno: What?
Frank: I gave you a thousand down. I've got the extra thousand for when you do the thing. Oh, and look. I've got, um... I've got these. These are, uh... These are... Will you... Will you just hold on? Bruno, wait. Bruno, hold up. Wait. Will you fucking wait? Wait, stop. Okay, I got, um, gift cards. They're good as gold. Untraceable. I was hoping we could, uh, maybe speed things up a little bit? Do it today?
Bruno: Sorry, pal. I don't know you.
Frank: You what? We have a deal.
Bruno: A deal for what?
Frank: D... p... fucking ki... For you to kill my daughter's asshole of a fiancé, fuck.
Bruno: Killing someone. Wow. Pretty sure that would be illegal.
Frank: What, are you trying to rip me off?
Bruno: I already did, you moron.
Frank: [Gets up in Bruno's face] You picked the wrong guy to fuck with, asshole.
Bruno: You go to the cops. Tell 'em you tried to arrange a hit on your daughter's fiancé, day before the wedding, but you got ripped off. See how that goes. [Pushes Frank off and drives away]

Veronica: [To Fiona] So we still doing wedding errands today? Flowers, manicures...
Fiona: Yes.
Veronica: Something borrowed, something blue?
Fiona: Yes.
Veronica: All right, I'm gonna go get dressed.
Kevin: It's a brave new world, Fiona.

[Lip exits police station to find Clyde waiting for him]
Lip: Nice ghetto job on the windows.
Clyde: Yeah, some drunk asshole smashed them with a tire iron.
Lip: Must have been pretty drunk.
Clyde: Must have been.
Lip: You bail me out?
Clyde: Against my better judgment, yeah.
Lip: I thought they, uh, screwed up the paperwork, made a mistake.
Clyde: May have been a mistake.
Lip: Too early to know for sure.
Clyde: You need help. I know a place. Not fancy, but they get the job done.
Lip: Rehab?
Clyde: You're a drunk. Believe me, I know whereof I speak.
Lip: Look, I got to go to class.
Clyde: You're joking, right?
Lip: Well, classical mechanics. Frankel.
Clyde: You took a swing at a campus cop. Believe me, you're as good as expelled.
Lip: Oh, fuck 'em. I was sick of it anyway.
Clyde: Sure. fuck 'em. Of course. You've got a problem, Lip. It's time to grow up and deal with it.
Lip: That's kind of strange coming from you. You know, kettle, pot, black, all that.
Clyde: I've been in and out five times.
Lip: Well, it doesn't say much for the whole rehab thing, does it?
Clyde: I had two doctorates. I had two kids and tenure before I started drinking. You're 22. Look, you go, you work the steps. I'll see what I can do about getting you a job in the field when you get out. Come on, get in. I'll drive you over there.
Lip: My sister's getting married tomorrow.
Clyde: Congratulations.
Lip: I don't want to miss it.
Clyde: Right.
Lip: Hey, can I get a ride to the El?
Clyde: No.
Lip: And show up for your court appearance.
Clyde: I can't afford to forfeit the bail.