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The Gallagher House, Dining Room.
If Carl and Ian's refusal to visit Debbie had merely stoked the embers of Lip's anger, then Frank's question was the gasoline that turned it into a full-blown volcanic eruption.
In an instant, Lip's face turned a shade of red that looked dangerously close to a stroke.
"Are you fxxking kidding me??" Lip roared at Frank. "Are you serious right now? Asking a question like that?"
Frank, who was genuinely starving and had just started eating, froze mid-chew and looked up at Lip.
He'd spent the entire day being ordered around and tortured by Peggy, building up a reservoir of rage. Now, being screamed at like a chump by his own son in front of everyone...
Frank was pissed too. He gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening.
But unlike Lip, Frank could usually control his temper when it served him. Plus, let's be real—Frank was a little afraid of Lip.
So, within seconds, Frank looked away, swallowed his pride (and his food), and kept eating in silence. His plan: finish fast, get back to the Alibi, and drink until the world made sense again.
Seeing Frank back down, Fiona let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She quickly tried to de-escalate. "Lip, let it go."
Despite everything, deep down, Lip still somewhat saw Frank as his father. After hesitating, he took a deep breath, swallowed the rest of his insults, and turned his laser sights on Ian.
"Ian, what do you have going on tomorrow? You don't even have time to visit Debbie?" Lip asked, his tone unfriendly.
Ian was miserable inside. He shot a sideways glance at Lip. "I have my own stuff to do. When I'm done, I'll go visit Debbie myself."
"Is that the point?" Lip wasn't accepting this compromise. "We are family! Debbie wants to see all of us tomorrow! What is so goddamn important that it has to be done tomorrow?"
Ian was already exhausted, heartbroken, and angry from seeing Mickey earlier that day. He was physically and mentally drained and really didn't want to deal with Lip's lecturing.
That's the thing about being lovesick—nothing else matters. The world could be ending, but if your heart is broken, the apocalypse is just background noise.
"I said I have stuff to do! Can you drop it?!" Ian snapped, letting a bit of his anger leak out.
"What is with this attitude?" Lip still saw Ian as his weak, indecisive little brother. Seeing Ian actually get angry ticked him off even more. He didn't hold back. His face twisted into a scowl, and he yelled louder, "What is wrong with you lately? First you insist on moving out, now you pull this crap? I've been putting up with your shit for a long time, man!"
Ding-dong.
That last sentence was the spark that lit the powder keg in Ian's chest.
In a flash, Ian's expression changed. His eyes went wide, he clenched his fists, and he glared furiously at Lip.
Watching Lip and Ian suddenly at each other's throats...
Peggy was having the time of her life.
Karen was enjoying it too, though she not only hid it but also managed to plaster a look of deep concern on her face.
Fiona was frantic. She immediately started trying to talk them down.
Fiona kept talking.
But neither Lip nor Ian paid her any attention. They just stared death daggers at each other.
One second, two seconds, three seconds...
Seeing that they were just staring and not doing anything, Peggy got impatient. She decided to stir the pot. "I used to see my boys like this all the time. You two need to fight it out, or this will never end."
Fight?
Fiona's head buzzed. Her eyes darted to Peggy, and she yelled out on pure instinct. "Peggy! Shut up!"
Peggy glanced at Fiona with a smirk, ignored her completely, and continued. "Ian, if you're pissed, hit him. Punch him, then talk."
Hearing this.
Ian's fists clenched even tighter.
Lip had the same reaction. But unlike Ian, Lip's rage had a second target.
Lip wanted to beat Peggy too. He wanted to beat the old bitch to a pulp.
Peggy saw the intent in Lip's eyes instantly. Her mind raced to Carl.
If Lip beat her up right here, today, how would Carl react? It would probably push him further away from the Gallagher family, just like Dexter wanted.
So, for Carl's sake...
Peggy smiled and goaded Lip. "Oh? I see that look in your eyes. You want to hit me too? Heh. Come on then. I'll take you with one hand. Oh, wait, your leg is broken. You can't move well. Should I come over to you?"
That was a line most people couldn't tolerate.
Someone with a temper as explosive as Lip's? Forget it.
Snap!
Lip shot up from his chair. His face was twisted in rage, his whole body trembling. "Fxxk you, Peggy! Get the fuck out! Don't you ever step foot in my house again!"
"Heh," Peggy sneered. She gripped the arms of her wheelchair and struggled to stand up. "This isn't your house. When I lived here, you were just a little shit I could have squashed with one hand! You want to act tough with me? I'll put a bullet in you, you believe me?"
As she spoke, Peggy made a move to reach into her bag.
There was no gun in the bag.
After Dexter warned her, Peggy had gotten rid of it.
She was purely bluffing.
Was it effective?
Very!
Lip was terrified. He instinctively flinched back.
Fiona was even more scared. Her mouth hung open, her face a mask of terror. "Frank! Get your mother out of here! Now!"
Lip was his son, after all. Frank, though scared himself, gritted his teeth and stood up. He grabbed Peggy's arm to stop her from "drawing the gun." "Ma, don't mess with the kids. Come on, let's go home."
Peggy committed to the bit, acting like she really wanted to shoot Lip. Then, she "relented," shot Lip a vicious glare, and said to Frank, "Let's go."
Peggy gave the order.
Frank, who had shoveled enough food into his mouth to pad his stomach, didn't waste a second. He helped Peggy back into the chair and started wheeling her out.
At that moment, Ian stood up silently and started walking toward the door on his own.
"Ian, don't go..." Fiona pleaded, her voice cracking.
Ian didn't look back. He walked out with absolute resolve.
Ian, Peggy, Frank... three people leaving at once.
"I'm going back too," Carl said. He couldn't stand the atmosphere anymore. He got up and headed for the wheelchair to help.
"Carl..." Fiona called out, her voice thick with tears.
Carl wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he could hear the pain in her voice. He stopped, looking conflicted.
On one side, Peggy was leaving. On the other, Fiona was about to cry.
Carl was torn.
Peggy anticipated this. She spoke up. "Carl, you can stay here and finish dinner."
Carl didn't pick up on any sarcasm or hidden meaning. He hesitated for a second. "Okay, Grandma. I'll come back in a bit."
"Yeah, no rush," Peggy said pleasantly.
It didn't take long.
Ian, Peggy, and Frank left the Gallagher house one after another.
In the dining room, eight people had become five.
"Carl, sit down. Have some steak," Fiona said eagerly, clinging to Carl staying as a small victory in the darkness. Her mood lifted just a fraction.
A few minutes later.
Lip opened his mouth again. In a seemingly friendly tone, he brought up visiting Debbie tomorrow with Carl.
Two minutes after that.
Carl regretted staying. He thought it was a huge mistake. This is annoying as hell.
"Fiona, I'm full. I'm leaving. See ya."
dropping that sentence, Carl got up and left without looking back.