I thought you were living at Caleb's?
Caleb's sleeping with a chick.
He's bi?
No dude is bi, all right? You lick dick, you're supposed to be gay.
So you guys broke up?
Haven't decided yet. Probably. God, I can't believe he's licking vag, too.
All right, can you guys please stop talking about licking vag? You're gonna give me a boner.
You sleep at all last night?
No, if I wake up with morning wood, it'll pop my stitches.
You're 16. How are you gonna not get wood for 72 hours?
Eyes on the prize, my brother.
Yeah, which is?
A blowie from Dominique.
The chick who made you cut your dick? Yeah, man, no girl's worth that.
She didn't make me. I wanted to. You guys just don't understand true love.
...
What's up with mopey?
Ah, boy trouble.
Girl trouble.
I'll draw you a Venn diagram to explain that, too.
...
Get a restraining order on his ass.
That would mean that I cared. And I don't anymore.
Aren't you angry with him about destroying your future?
Did me a favor. Come on, help me bring his crap downstairs.
Good morning, my wasted sperms.
Frank, you're walking. In a weird way, but you're walking.
Why don't you go away, Frank?
Is that any way to greet your soon to be ex-father?
Ex-father? We would be so lucky.
Filling out the paperwork to disinherit you abortion-should-have-beens.
Disinherit? Wow. So we don't get that jelly jar?
Or the three pieces of silverware you stole from the Ramada Inn?
Or the shame and the embarrassment?
Go ahead, joke all you like. But once my parental rights are terminated, you can no longer use the Gallagher family name.
Hallelujah! I'm just gonna be like Cher and go by Fiona. Here's your shit. I'm taking my room back. And I'm padlocking the house. [Takes toast from Frank] Aw, you made me toast. Thanks.
...
Well, look who it is... Beauty and the Beast. I'll leave it to you two to figure out who's who.
Too bad you're walking again, Frank. I was praying for permanent paralysis.
Where'd you get the stroller, Debs? The only thing Monica and I could afford to stroll you guys around in was a Kroger shopping cart.
Hey, give me that! It's not yours.
Well, apparently it's not yours either. Uh, Maureen Wilson. Looks like you already cleaned out the cash, Little Orphan Angry, so, uh... I'll take the platinum.
You can't do that, Frank!
Should I call Ms. Wilson, let her know you found it?
Fine, take it. Careful, Liam. I used to think Frank would be a real dad someday, too.
You and that little spic you sneezed out of the cavern you called your uterus better start looking for a new last name. I'm disinheriting both of you and taking back the Gallagher name.
Gladly. And while I'm at it, Franny's gonna go by her middle name from now on... Harriet. Harry. So she has no more connection to you.
Harry! Well, that's a perfect name for the diesel dike she's gonna grow up to be someday. Come on, kid. We got work to do.
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