Dumb and Dumber To Page #2

two's gonna cough up a kidney?

What? What was that?

Wait!

I know! You're the

gopher from Caddyshack.

Look at her! She's got it down!

We love you, Harry.

Do you love him long time?

But you know you're

not our real son, right?

You adopted.

Ouch.

Dad, what are you saying?

Sorry, Harry.

We thought you know.

Wow.

What a nut punch.

Don't be glum, Har.

All this means is that your real

parents are out there somewhere.

And I will go to the

ends of the earth to...

Real parents dead.

You're boned.

James boned.

Harry, Harry.

No idea what you're saying,

Ma, but right back at you.

Harry, before you go, your

mail piling up for many year.

Oh. We saving for you.

Huh. Junk mail, junk mail.

I got accepted to Arizona State.

Hmm?

Oh, look at this.

It's a postcard from Fraida Felcher.

The chick from Cranston?

Ooh!

So, what'd she have to say?

"Harry, I'm pregnant. Please call me. "

Lloyd, I'm gonna be a dad!

No way!

Look at the postmark.

Do you know what this means, Harry?

You have a grown kid. Oh.

With grown kidneys.

But, Lloyd, we don't have

a phone number or address,

or nothing. And who we fooling?

Even if I find him,

my kid's never met me.

Why would he wanna give me a kidney?

Are you serious?

After all you've done for him?

It's the least he can do.

What have I ever done for him?

You gave him his space. Kids love that.

I didn't wanna be a helicopter parent.

And you filled him with wonder.

Wonder? Yeah.

Like, "I wonder who my deadbeat dad is?"

Oh, it's okay, Lloyd.

I've had a full life.

I was a paperboy for a week.

I fathered a child.

I've seen every episode of Full House.

Wow!

Every episode?

Okay, Okay-

So how are we gonna do this?

If we find Fraida, we find your kid.

If we find your kid,

we find your kidney.

Simple.

Yeah, but I never even

knew where Fraida lived.

I didn't have a car. She always

had to pick me up in her van.

Didn't you meet her

through Pete Stainer?

Who? Pee-Stain!

He'll know how to reach her.

Yeah, but I haven't talked to

Pee-Stain in a hundred years!

I can't drop by his house

in the middle of the night

and ask him for some chick's number.

Sure you can!

Oh, okay. But we gotta

be sub-tull about it.

The word is pronounced "subtle," Harry.

It's a silent

What was that for?

You had a gah-nat on you.

Maybe we should catch a

bus to Pee-Stain's house.

We can't. We got the bike.

Oh, that's okay. They got bike

racks on the front of buses now.

Cool.

Perfect.

That's very convenient.

Hey, guys!

You forgot your bike!

Oh, it's not ours. Somebody

abandoned it in front of our place.

Yeah. Just left it there

double-chained to a tree.

Hey, Har.

You wanna hear the second most

annoying sound in the world?

Sure.

Yeah, that's pretty annoying.

No, not that.

What the hell are you doing

ringing our doorbell like that

in the middle of the night?

That!

Mr. Stainer. Mrs.

Stainer. Nice to see you.

Harry, Lloyd.

To what do we owe the honor

at this late hour, gentlemen?

We were just wondering if Pee-Stain

wanted to come out for some suds.

And maybe have his ass handed to him

in a couple of games of Dig Dug.

Lloyd.

Peter is dead.

Yeah, right. Since when?

Since 1991. Remember?

The motorcycle accident?

But I thought he pulled through.

The obituary said he was

survived by his parents.

Uh, no. He did not pull through.

Are you sure?

Yes.

on, yeah.

You guys are right.

Anyway. Sorry about that whole thing.

Pee-Stain and I were

very close friends.

Yeah, we know.

You're the one who

sold him the motorcycle.

And if I recall,

I made him a sweet deal.

My bike for his helmet, straight up.

That thing was a rocket.

A little squirrelly on the corners,

but when you got it on a straightaway...

Good night, Lloyd. Good night, Harry.

That was awkward.

You're not kidding.

When somebody comes to

your door at 3:
00 a.m.,

put some pants on!

Hey, wait a second.

That's where I met Fraida Felcher.

She worked at the funeral parlor

where they buried Pee-Stain.

Wow.

Think about it.

If I hadn't sold that

crotch rocket to Pee-Stain,

you wouldn't have a bastard child

who's gonna save your life.

God's got a pretty warped

sense of humor, huh?

Yeah. I bet he smokes weed.

Otherwise, why would he put

our testicles outside our bodies

where someone could do this?

Ow!

Bush club!

What are you doing, Lloyd?

I'm about to meet my kid!

Sorry, Har.

Bushes like that don't

come along every day.

Excuse me, sir. Is Fraida working today?

I'm Fraida. Oh.

Sorry for the confusion.

We meant your smoking-hot

daughter, Fraida Junior.

There is no Fraida Junior.

I'm the only Fraida in the family.

That little hottie must

have given us a fake name.

Look, guys, it's me,

Fraida Felcher.

Yeah, right.

Like we'd be fighting

over those blowfish jowls.

No offense.

Harry.

Lloyd.

I'm gonna say this one more time.

I'm Fraida.

Tattoo.

Oh. yeah?

Then show us your tattoo. Mmm-hmm.

Because Fraida had a cute

little smiley face on her back

right above her bikini line.

Well?

Hmm.

It's close. Mmm.

Oh. Hi, Fraida.

Oh, hey! How you been?

Have you been doing yoga?

Yeah, I'm kind of busy. Is

there a reason you guys are here?

Yes.

I just received this postcard

that you sent me 22 years ago.

Talk about snail mail.

You better come in.

So, did you, uh, ever have the baby?

I had a daughter. Named her Fanny.

You hear that, Har? A little girl.

Fanny Felcher! Ow!

Are you all right? Uh, bad back.

Oh, I have so many questions for you.

Like?

For starters, how was the pregnancy?

Was it a tough one? Did

they have to saw you open?

Whoa, Har. Dial it down!

We're talking about the

miracle of childbirth here.

What my insensitive friend meant was,

did you have a C-section

or were you able to have

the baby au snatch-urel?

It went smoothly.

So, uh, where is she?

Can I meet her?

I gave her up for adoption.

What?

Why? Because I was broke and scared.

I regretted it as soon as I did it.

But it was too late.

I'd already signed away all my rights.

Then a couple years ago

I wrote her a letter.

But she never wrote me back.

Wait here.

What do we do now?

What do you mean, "What do we do now?"

I mean, at this exact moment

in time, what do we do?

Harry, don't you hear that?

It's the fat lady singing.

It's over!

I need something to drink.

But... Harry, enough!

We tried and we failed!

As Vince Lombardi used to say,

you gotta know when to quit!

Hey, you should pick out one of

those coffins while we're here.

What if... Darn it, Har!

I cannot live on this emotional

roller coaster any longer.

I feel bad saying it,

but you're slunk meat.

Here's a picture I found

of my daughter online.

Or, we could suck it up,

pick ourselves up by our bootstraps

and go find that little girl!

Hold on.

You wrote her a letter. You

must know where she lives!

Yeah. I tracked her down through

this adoption search site.

She was raised by

this hotshot scientist.

Rate this script:4.0 / 2 votes