Californication (2007–2014): Season 1, Episode 3 - The Whore of Babylon - full transcript
Hank fights with Todd Carr, director of the film based on his book, and ends up in jail. Bill bails him out.
Previously on Californication...
So, Hank.
- Meredith.
- Do I know any of your books ?
Well, that depends on whether
or not you read, Meredith.
The good people Hell-A
are very interested
in your thoughts.
They would like you to blog for them.
Jesus H. Christ.
- I am 16, you know.
- So I've been told.
- Hi, daddy !
- Honey, put some clothes on.
- We have company.
- Are you serious about marrying Bill?
- Yes. Why?
- What about Hank?
Game on, broheme.
You want to get fucked up ?
Oh, God...
- Must be weird, though.
- What ?
Becoming the employee of a man
- you hate.
- What are you talking about ?
My father, he owns Hell-A Magazine.
Once upon a time, I wrote a book.
People seemed to dig it,
so I wrote another and one after that.
That's when Hollywood came knocking
at my back door.
As soon as I cashed that check,
I wrapped my lips around the mighty
erection that is the film industry
and sucked hard,
just like a good whore should.
Unfortunately, I had to be taught
not to orphan the balls.
- Moody!
- Ladies and gentlemen, Todd Carr
the caramel-coated, chrome-domed auteur
who took my precious little novel,
wiped his ass, and transformed it
into the craptastic crowd-pleaser
also known as
Crazy Little Thing Called Love.
My people.
Still bitching about
being a whore to Hollywood?
Only when my pimp's not around.
You're no goddamn fucking Faulkner,
you know.
And you're no Brett fucking Ratner.
But that could be a compliment,
and in that case, I didn't mean to.
I'm sick of you talking shit about me
in the press.
That's why you're here?
I thought you came after finding out
I fucked your wife
in almost
every room of your house.
Every room of your house.
And I'm sorry about the rug.
I didn't realize the old lady
was a squirter.
Where's Karen ?
Home, with Becca.
She's funny, that one.
Becca ? Yeah, she is a real character.
Karen. She knows how to push
all my buttons.
I don't think she's trying
to push your buttons, Hank.
Bill, I'm not really interested in what
you think, but thank you for sharing.
I wanted to come.
You did?
I'm not the bad guy.
You're not the bad guy?
Life is complicated, man.
"Life is complicated, man."
That's what you got ?
- Way to dip into the platitudes.
- I guess that's why you're the writer.
Oh, fuck.
I didn't ask you to fucking come bail me
out. I didn't ask for a fucking job.
Who the fuck do you think you are?
You think I love
to be in business with you ?
Some rude, disrespectful jackass
who can't get out of his own way ?
You looking for a dick punch ?
Do you want to punch me in the dick ?
I kind of do, but standing here
talking about it
- is beginning to sound kind of gay.
- Go ahead. Take a shot.
But think,
would you want Becca to see this ?
I'll settle for a titty twister.
God. You're 11.
Fuck...
Keep the job, Hank.
Get back on your feet.
Get on with your life.
And forget about the woman
you didn't want to marry.
Don't make me get up and kick your ass
all over again, Bill !
Hi. Remember me ?
How could I forget ?
Best blind date of my life, asshole.
We don't have much time.
Your suitor will be returning
from the shitter.
I'd like to offer my sincere apologies.
My behavior the other night
was beyond appalling,
despicable, reprehensible.
I was a mess. I have no words.
For a guy with no words,
that was a lot of words.
That's funny.
I wouldn't have expected that from you.
Because you had me so nailed.
Well, let me make it up to you.
Can I... take you out sometime?
I'm out right now,
with a guy who's not an asshole.
Right. Well, do you see yourself
marrying this fella ?
- You never know.
- Girls know at once
whether they want to fuck,
marry, or kill a guy.
Which begs the question,
how am I doing ?
Bye now.
Be good to her, my friend.
I had a shot with her once,
but I blew it.
Hang out with your wang out,
but remember
-- no gloving, no loving.
Au revoir, mes enfants.
Au revoir.
So... you were brought up
on the east coast.
Jersey maybe.
No, Long Island.
Dad had a chip on his shoulder,
blue on his collar.
Mom was a little beat down by it all,
but she's the one
who encouraged you to dream big.
They fought like cats and dogs,
but they stayed together
through good times and bad.
You had sisters.
You learned about girls.
You were good with them,
maybe a little too good.
You read books, and you didn't want
to die 5 miles from where you were born.
So you escaped into the city
you romanticized
and reinvented yourself
as a poor man's McInerney.
How am I doing ?
Pretty good,
a lot more gracious than mine.
I blacked out there in the middle,
when you were really strumming my pain
with your fingers, but...
well done.
How long you been working on that ?
A couple of weeks.
It's a good story.
Any idea how it ends ?
- Hey, where are you going ?
- I have to get to work.
A job ? What do you do ?
Well, don't you remember ?
I'm a poor gal's Martha Stewart.
Don't you remember I'm an asshole ?
Right. I'm an attorney.
Then we're both assholes.
- What's your thing ?
- Divorce.
You must be a busy girl.
That I am,
which is why I have to skedaddle.
I can't believe you tried
to slink out of here
- without saying goodbye to me.
- Hank. Please.
I assume this was a one-time thing.
Why would you assume
something like that ?
Sorry, but you don't seem like a guy
who likes a lot of repeat business.
I'm offended. How about tonight ?
- Are you sure?
- Yeah,
a proper date. Dinner.
20th-century style.
I'd be just as happy to come back here.
No. Dinner.
A girl's got to eat.
That she does.
Are you gonna flush?
What the fuck are you doing here?
The redhead let me in.
Question: does the carpet
match the drapes, Hanky-panky?
You scared the shit outta me.
I know.
You screamed just like a little girl.
- Kind of a turnoff, actually.
- What the fuck do you want?
I'm late...
What? That's not possible.
I... wore a condom.
That's... That would be like
the Immaculate Conception.
And you, you're the one who...
and then you left.
I'm late for school.
Well, then, what do you want from me,
besides the obvious?
Don't flatter yourself, champ.
I have a creative-writing course,
and I need
to turn something in today, so....
Okay, what's the problem?
It's creative writing.
Be creative.
Write something.
This from a guy who hasn't written
a word in five years?
Nobody likes a smartass.
Come on, you must have
some piece-of-shit short story
- you never published around, somewhere.
- No, nothing.
Don't. Stop that!
And don't move.
Don't fuck around.
Do not fuck around!
It's not funny.
Look who's here.
You don't call, thanks,
you don't write.
You look like shit.
And you look beautiful...
Far too beautiful for these 4 walls.
Let's get some breakfast.
Come on.
- I'm getting coffee.
- No, we'll go out.
- We'll get it.
- Get dressed.
Fuck!
I just wanted...
What, no points for safety?
Yes, but Magnums?
- Well, you know.
- Did you have a growth spurt?
Well, no, I been... working out.
Just a lot of vitamins.
I got whole...
I got a regimen.
Hank, do not quit this job.
It's hardly a job, Karen.
It's a blog.
It's the best thing
that's happened to you in a long time
- and you're good at it.
- Well, I just can't work for Bill.
Why not?
Well, for one, he's a dick.
Could you just swallow your...
stupid pride and keep the job,
keep writing, keep doing
what you were put on this planet to do?
What else is there for you... besides
drowning in a sea of pointless pussy?
It's the neighbors.
Do you know what?
I should go in there.
I'm gonna go in there.
I'm gonna go in there and tell her
what to expect and how to treat it.
- It's only fair.
- There are some...
images you don't want floating around
your pretty little head.
Trust me, it's like a...
It's like a Mapplethorpe shoot in there,
except with less cock.
Shut up, okay?
Shut up.
Keep the job, hank.
Do it for becca's sake.
Give her something to look up to.
Thanks for stopping by.
Just suppose you're a guy,
you're getting a massage from another guy,
and it's nice, it's relaxing.
Then all of a sudden,
you get a little tingle,
a little unintentional stim.
What do you call that,
where you get a little turgidity?
You get a rollover going there.
That was Nora from Hell-A Magazine.
She wanna know
when she'll get the next piece.
What would you call that phenomenon?
Hank, the whole idea behind the blog
is an ongoing narrative.
You understand?
A series of events
that follows another series of events.
I get that. I really do.
I just can't whore myself out to the tall man anymore.
Ongoing or not, I can't do it.
Capisce?
With all due respect, Hank,
grow the fuck up already. Would you?
Come on! You're the lying cocksucker
that got me
into this in the first place.
You set me up.
If by set you up, you mean
contrive a situation
in which you might actually start
to produce words again,
then, yes, okay, guilty as charged.
You should've told me
what you were up to in the first place.
- That was bullshit.
- You wouldn't have done it!
Okay, you see what I'm getting at here?
Oh, fuck you.
You're fired.
You know that you've fired me
roughly every 90 days
since we worked together.
Yeah, because
I'm a consistent motherfucker.
Don't do this, hank, okay?
Not now.
No other agent in their right mind
would take you on, now.
And the ones who would wouldn't be able
to get you a job writing kiddy porn.
Yeah, we'll see about that.
It's a broner.
It's a broner...
The word I'm looking for.
Unintentionally man-inspired boner...
Broner.
Duly noted.
Broner!
What is so fucking difficult
about distinguishing
diet from regular, huh?
Here. Just go.
You're fired, all right?
Get out. Go!
Fucking get outta here.
You okay there, tiger?
Did you ever have one of those days
where you feel like a tired, old whore
whose uterus is about to fall out?
I think I'm in touch with that emotion.
Really? I was just being dramatic.
Do tell.
That guy you saw me with last night?
He's married.
Oh, you dirty cheater, you.
Five years.
Been fucking a married guy
for five years?
Classy, huh?
I tend to think of myself
as a whatever-makes-you-happy
kind of a guy, but...
I have to ask...
What's in it for you, lady?
I love him.
And I tend to believe him
when he says he loves me.
That sounds like
a charming little romcom,
except for the part
where he won't leave his wife.
The guy's richer than god.
He doesn't want to cut it in half.
I haven't known you very long,
and this probably means precious little
coming from a guy
who treated you like
a piece of prison ass on a blind date,
but I think you deserve
a hell of a lot more.
My baby.
You have a baby with the married guy?
Holy fuck.
A dog.
Cat Stevens.
You have a dog named Cat Stevens?
Holy fuck!
A gift from married guy.
I know it sounds incredibly lame,
but he was like our baby.
The one thing that was ours...
Just ours.
So, his wife goes out of town,
and I bring Cat Stevens
over to the house.
Naturally, the bitch comes home early.
I barely have enough time to put on
my clothes and sneak out the back.
And then I realized I left him behind.
That fucking bitch thought sweet
little Cat Stevens was a gift for her.
Married guy doesn't say anything?
How could he?
Hmm, that is sick.
Come on.
Where are we going?
We're gonna fix this.
Hey, honey.
You're insane.
You've been fucking
a married guy for 5 years,
you've got a dog named Cat Stevens,
and I'm insane?
Point taken.
I got to figure out a way to get
in there without breaking a window.
How about this?
Cat?
And you'll never have dried-up meat
in the fridge.
Cat Stevens!
Come here, Cat!
Roast beef, lamb, turkey.
This knife is like a hot knife
going right through butter.
It has a fork with the end,
so you pick up the meat,
dip it into the gravy.
Remember, here's a grapefruit.
Look at this.
Not a seed, not a drop of juice
comes out.
Come here.
I'll take you away from all this!
Cat! Yusuf Islam!
Be Straight is a good song.
Come here, Cat.
Come here!
Come on!
Don't worry, I'll be gone
in a few minutes.
Actually, I was... I was...
- I was gonna call you.
- You could've e-mailed.
I think I overreacted yesterday,
and I'm sorry about that,
So,
the job is yours if...
you still want it.
I want it.
Good.
But...
But?
From now on, if I make a mistake
or I screw something up,
you should feel free to discipline
me in whatever way you see fit.
You're the boss.
And, Hank called.
He said you could still be his agent
if you want.
I thought that was you.
I would have focused
on a different area altogether.
Get your ass back in bed then.
I got to go to work.
Ah, yes, I don't think I've ever dated
a woman who had a job before.
Is that what we're doing? Dating?
It does feel that way, kind of,
sort of, maybe, a little bit.
Yeah. I guess it kind of does.
Too many tongues!
Take your fucking dog!
I didn't have the heart to tell you,
but that's not Cat Stevens.
What?
You took the wrong dog. So not
your fault, the bitch has a lot of them.
Look on the bright side.
He seems to really like you.
Thank you.
This is not a macchiato!
A macchiato...
What...
am I going to do with you?
Whatever you want, boss.
Look what a mess I've made.
Guess who.
Something's familiar.
Did you switch to Camel lights?
That's cute!
What you reading?
Oh, you're not gonna go through
with that barbaric ritual, are you?
I was thinking about it.
You don't sound too excited.
I am.
It's just weird.
I never thought I'd get married.
You had me convinced
it was all a bullshit fairy tale.
- And it's not?
- Not if you meet the right person.
You say it's about meeting Mr. Right.
I think you're settling
for Mr. Right in front of you.
I'm asking you to consider
Mr. Lurking right above you.
I wouldn't want to erase the fact that,
once upon a time, I used to love you.
William. I have something for you.
Hank! You didn't have to do this!
Considering I got my precious
bodily fluids all over yours,
I felt like, yeah, I kind of did.
But that piece of... art
is worth a small fortune.
Don't look a gift piece
of overpriced pop art in the mouth.
I know people who know people.
Just enjoy it.
Consider it a belated
engagement present.
Hang it over your marital bed.
What's up with you?
- You seem kind of...
- Jaunty?
- Yes.
- Devil-may-care?
- Yes.
- Happy?
- Even.
- Well, maybe I met a girl.
- Hey, dad.
- Hey, honey.
I've got something for you, too.
Just hold on. Stay right there.
I'm partial to Yusuf Islam,
but you can call him whatever you want.
And, Bill, don't worry.
He can stay with me.
- That's so nice of you, Hank.
- Yes, Hank, that's very nice of you.
Well, you guys look like one big happy.
I am proud to report
that my daughter has just penned
one of the most impressive short stories
I've ever had the pleasure of reading.
Now, the prose was a bit
on the purple side,
but still, I had no idea
she had it in her.
The prose couldn't be that purple.
No, it was, but still,
it was good stuff.
That is something.
Well, it's what I do.
Speaking of which,
dare I ask about the blog?
Honey, to quote The Clash,
should I stay
or should I rock the Kasbah?
Do what you want, dad.
I love you no matter what.
Good morning, Hell-A.
In the land of the lotus-eaters,
time plays tricks on you.
One day you're dreaming.
The next, your dream
has become your reality.
It was the best of times.
If only someone had told me.
Mistakes were made, hearts
were broken,
harsh lessons learned.
My family goes on without me,
while I drown
in a sea of pointless pussy.
I don't know how I got here.
But here I am, rotting away
in the warm California sun.
There are things I need to figure out,
for her sake, at least.
The clock is ticking.
The gap is widening.
She won't always love me
"no matter what."
So, Hank.
- Meredith.
- Do I know any of your books ?
Well, that depends on whether
or not you read, Meredith.
The good people Hell-A
are very interested
in your thoughts.
They would like you to blog for them.
Jesus H. Christ.
- I am 16, you know.
- So I've been told.
- Hi, daddy !
- Honey, put some clothes on.
- We have company.
- Are you serious about marrying Bill?
- Yes. Why?
- What about Hank?
Game on, broheme.
You want to get fucked up ?
Oh, God...
- Must be weird, though.
- What ?
Becoming the employee of a man
- you hate.
- What are you talking about ?
My father, he owns Hell-A Magazine.
Once upon a time, I wrote a book.
People seemed to dig it,
so I wrote another and one after that.
That's when Hollywood came knocking
at my back door.
As soon as I cashed that check,
I wrapped my lips around the mighty
erection that is the film industry
and sucked hard,
just like a good whore should.
Unfortunately, I had to be taught
not to orphan the balls.
- Moody!
- Ladies and gentlemen, Todd Carr
the caramel-coated, chrome-domed auteur
who took my precious little novel,
wiped his ass, and transformed it
into the craptastic crowd-pleaser
also known as
Crazy Little Thing Called Love.
My people.
Still bitching about
being a whore to Hollywood?
Only when my pimp's not around.
You're no goddamn fucking Faulkner,
you know.
And you're no Brett fucking Ratner.
But that could be a compliment,
and in that case, I didn't mean to.
I'm sick of you talking shit about me
in the press.
That's why you're here?
I thought you came after finding out
I fucked your wife
in almost
every room of your house.
Every room of your house.
And I'm sorry about the rug.
I didn't realize the old lady
was a squirter.
Where's Karen ?
Home, with Becca.
She's funny, that one.
Becca ? Yeah, she is a real character.
Karen. She knows how to push
all my buttons.
I don't think she's trying
to push your buttons, Hank.
Bill, I'm not really interested in what
you think, but thank you for sharing.
I wanted to come.
You did?
I'm not the bad guy.
You're not the bad guy?
Life is complicated, man.
"Life is complicated, man."
That's what you got ?
- Way to dip into the platitudes.
- I guess that's why you're the writer.
Oh, fuck.
I didn't ask you to fucking come bail me
out. I didn't ask for a fucking job.
Who the fuck do you think you are?
You think I love
to be in business with you ?
Some rude, disrespectful jackass
who can't get out of his own way ?
You looking for a dick punch ?
Do you want to punch me in the dick ?
I kind of do, but standing here
talking about it
- is beginning to sound kind of gay.
- Go ahead. Take a shot.
But think,
would you want Becca to see this ?
I'll settle for a titty twister.
God. You're 11.
Fuck...
Keep the job, Hank.
Get back on your feet.
Get on with your life.
And forget about the woman
you didn't want to marry.
Don't make me get up and kick your ass
all over again, Bill !
Hi. Remember me ?
How could I forget ?
Best blind date of my life, asshole.
We don't have much time.
Your suitor will be returning
from the shitter.
I'd like to offer my sincere apologies.
My behavior the other night
was beyond appalling,
despicable, reprehensible.
I was a mess. I have no words.
For a guy with no words,
that was a lot of words.
That's funny.
I wouldn't have expected that from you.
Because you had me so nailed.
Well, let me make it up to you.
Can I... take you out sometime?
I'm out right now,
with a guy who's not an asshole.
Right. Well, do you see yourself
marrying this fella ?
- You never know.
- Girls know at once
whether they want to fuck,
marry, or kill a guy.
Which begs the question,
how am I doing ?
Bye now.
Be good to her, my friend.
I had a shot with her once,
but I blew it.
Hang out with your wang out,
but remember
-- no gloving, no loving.
Au revoir, mes enfants.
Au revoir.
So... you were brought up
on the east coast.
Jersey maybe.
No, Long Island.
Dad had a chip on his shoulder,
blue on his collar.
Mom was a little beat down by it all,
but she's the one
who encouraged you to dream big.
They fought like cats and dogs,
but they stayed together
through good times and bad.
You had sisters.
You learned about girls.
You were good with them,
maybe a little too good.
You read books, and you didn't want
to die 5 miles from where you were born.
So you escaped into the city
you romanticized
and reinvented yourself
as a poor man's McInerney.
How am I doing ?
Pretty good,
a lot more gracious than mine.
I blacked out there in the middle,
when you were really strumming my pain
with your fingers, but...
well done.
How long you been working on that ?
A couple of weeks.
It's a good story.
Any idea how it ends ?
- Hey, where are you going ?
- I have to get to work.
A job ? What do you do ?
Well, don't you remember ?
I'm a poor gal's Martha Stewart.
Don't you remember I'm an asshole ?
Right. I'm an attorney.
Then we're both assholes.
- What's your thing ?
- Divorce.
You must be a busy girl.
That I am,
which is why I have to skedaddle.
I can't believe you tried
to slink out of here
- without saying goodbye to me.
- Hank. Please.
I assume this was a one-time thing.
Why would you assume
something like that ?
Sorry, but you don't seem like a guy
who likes a lot of repeat business.
I'm offended. How about tonight ?
- Are you sure?
- Yeah,
a proper date. Dinner.
20th-century style.
I'd be just as happy to come back here.
No. Dinner.
A girl's got to eat.
That she does.
Are you gonna flush?
What the fuck are you doing here?
The redhead let me in.
Question: does the carpet
match the drapes, Hanky-panky?
You scared the shit outta me.
I know.
You screamed just like a little girl.
- Kind of a turnoff, actually.
- What the fuck do you want?
I'm late...
What? That's not possible.
I... wore a condom.
That's... That would be like
the Immaculate Conception.
And you, you're the one who...
and then you left.
I'm late for school.
Well, then, what do you want from me,
besides the obvious?
Don't flatter yourself, champ.
I have a creative-writing course,
and I need
to turn something in today, so....
Okay, what's the problem?
It's creative writing.
Be creative.
Write something.
This from a guy who hasn't written
a word in five years?
Nobody likes a smartass.
Come on, you must have
some piece-of-shit short story
- you never published around, somewhere.
- No, nothing.
Don't. Stop that!
And don't move.
Don't fuck around.
Do not fuck around!
It's not funny.
Look who's here.
You don't call, thanks,
you don't write.
You look like shit.
And you look beautiful...
Far too beautiful for these 4 walls.
Let's get some breakfast.
Come on.
- I'm getting coffee.
- No, we'll go out.
- We'll get it.
- Get dressed.
Fuck!
I just wanted...
What, no points for safety?
Yes, but Magnums?
- Well, you know.
- Did you have a growth spurt?
Well, no, I been... working out.
Just a lot of vitamins.
I got whole...
I got a regimen.
Hank, do not quit this job.
It's hardly a job, Karen.
It's a blog.
It's the best thing
that's happened to you in a long time
- and you're good at it.
- Well, I just can't work for Bill.
Why not?
Well, for one, he's a dick.
Could you just swallow your...
stupid pride and keep the job,
keep writing, keep doing
what you were put on this planet to do?
What else is there for you... besides
drowning in a sea of pointless pussy?
It's the neighbors.
Do you know what?
I should go in there.
I'm gonna go in there.
I'm gonna go in there and tell her
what to expect and how to treat it.
- It's only fair.
- There are some...
images you don't want floating around
your pretty little head.
Trust me, it's like a...
It's like a Mapplethorpe shoot in there,
except with less cock.
Shut up, okay?
Shut up.
Keep the job, hank.
Do it for becca's sake.
Give her something to look up to.
Thanks for stopping by.
Just suppose you're a guy,
you're getting a massage from another guy,
and it's nice, it's relaxing.
Then all of a sudden,
you get a little tingle,
a little unintentional stim.
What do you call that,
where you get a little turgidity?
You get a rollover going there.
That was Nora from Hell-A Magazine.
She wanna know
when she'll get the next piece.
What would you call that phenomenon?
Hank, the whole idea behind the blog
is an ongoing narrative.
You understand?
A series of events
that follows another series of events.
I get that. I really do.
I just can't whore myself out to the tall man anymore.
Ongoing or not, I can't do it.
Capisce?
With all due respect, Hank,
grow the fuck up already. Would you?
Come on! You're the lying cocksucker
that got me
into this in the first place.
You set me up.
If by set you up, you mean
contrive a situation
in which you might actually start
to produce words again,
then, yes, okay, guilty as charged.
You should've told me
what you were up to in the first place.
- That was bullshit.
- You wouldn't have done it!
Okay, you see what I'm getting at here?
Oh, fuck you.
You're fired.
You know that you've fired me
roughly every 90 days
since we worked together.
Yeah, because
I'm a consistent motherfucker.
Don't do this, hank, okay?
Not now.
No other agent in their right mind
would take you on, now.
And the ones who would wouldn't be able
to get you a job writing kiddy porn.
Yeah, we'll see about that.
It's a broner.
It's a broner...
The word I'm looking for.
Unintentionally man-inspired boner...
Broner.
Duly noted.
Broner!
What is so fucking difficult
about distinguishing
diet from regular, huh?
Here. Just go.
You're fired, all right?
Get out. Go!
Fucking get outta here.
You okay there, tiger?
Did you ever have one of those days
where you feel like a tired, old whore
whose uterus is about to fall out?
I think I'm in touch with that emotion.
Really? I was just being dramatic.
Do tell.
That guy you saw me with last night?
He's married.
Oh, you dirty cheater, you.
Five years.
Been fucking a married guy
for five years?
Classy, huh?
I tend to think of myself
as a whatever-makes-you-happy
kind of a guy, but...
I have to ask...
What's in it for you, lady?
I love him.
And I tend to believe him
when he says he loves me.
That sounds like
a charming little romcom,
except for the part
where he won't leave his wife.
The guy's richer than god.
He doesn't want to cut it in half.
I haven't known you very long,
and this probably means precious little
coming from a guy
who treated you like
a piece of prison ass on a blind date,
but I think you deserve
a hell of a lot more.
My baby.
You have a baby with the married guy?
Holy fuck.
A dog.
Cat Stevens.
You have a dog named Cat Stevens?
Holy fuck!
A gift from married guy.
I know it sounds incredibly lame,
but he was like our baby.
The one thing that was ours...
Just ours.
So, his wife goes out of town,
and I bring Cat Stevens
over to the house.
Naturally, the bitch comes home early.
I barely have enough time to put on
my clothes and sneak out the back.
And then I realized I left him behind.
That fucking bitch thought sweet
little Cat Stevens was a gift for her.
Married guy doesn't say anything?
How could he?
Hmm, that is sick.
Come on.
Where are we going?
We're gonna fix this.
Hey, honey.
You're insane.
You've been fucking
a married guy for 5 years,
you've got a dog named Cat Stevens,
and I'm insane?
Point taken.
I got to figure out a way to get
in there without breaking a window.
How about this?
Cat?
And you'll never have dried-up meat
in the fridge.
Cat Stevens!
Come here, Cat!
Roast beef, lamb, turkey.
This knife is like a hot knife
going right through butter.
It has a fork with the end,
so you pick up the meat,
dip it into the gravy.
Remember, here's a grapefruit.
Look at this.
Not a seed, not a drop of juice
comes out.
Come here.
I'll take you away from all this!
Cat! Yusuf Islam!
Be Straight is a good song.
Come here, Cat.
Come here!
Come on!
Don't worry, I'll be gone
in a few minutes.
Actually, I was... I was...
- I was gonna call you.
- You could've e-mailed.
I think I overreacted yesterday,
and I'm sorry about that,
So,
the job is yours if...
you still want it.
I want it.
Good.
But...
But?
From now on, if I make a mistake
or I screw something up,
you should feel free to discipline
me in whatever way you see fit.
You're the boss.
And, Hank called.
He said you could still be his agent
if you want.
I thought that was you.
I would have focused
on a different area altogether.
Get your ass back in bed then.
I got to go to work.
Ah, yes, I don't think I've ever dated
a woman who had a job before.
Is that what we're doing? Dating?
It does feel that way, kind of,
sort of, maybe, a little bit.
Yeah. I guess it kind of does.
Too many tongues!
Take your fucking dog!
I didn't have the heart to tell you,
but that's not Cat Stevens.
What?
You took the wrong dog. So not
your fault, the bitch has a lot of them.
Look on the bright side.
He seems to really like you.
Thank you.
This is not a macchiato!
A macchiato...
What...
am I going to do with you?
Whatever you want, boss.
Look what a mess I've made.
Guess who.
Something's familiar.
Did you switch to Camel lights?
That's cute!
What you reading?
Oh, you're not gonna go through
with that barbaric ritual, are you?
I was thinking about it.
You don't sound too excited.
I am.
It's just weird.
I never thought I'd get married.
You had me convinced
it was all a bullshit fairy tale.
- And it's not?
- Not if you meet the right person.
You say it's about meeting Mr. Right.
I think you're settling
for Mr. Right in front of you.
I'm asking you to consider
Mr. Lurking right above you.
I wouldn't want to erase the fact that,
once upon a time, I used to love you.
William. I have something for you.
Hank! You didn't have to do this!
Considering I got my precious
bodily fluids all over yours,
I felt like, yeah, I kind of did.
But that piece of... art
is worth a small fortune.
Don't look a gift piece
of overpriced pop art in the mouth.
I know people who know people.
Just enjoy it.
Consider it a belated
engagement present.
Hang it over your marital bed.
What's up with you?
- You seem kind of...
- Jaunty?
- Yes.
- Devil-may-care?
- Yes.
- Happy?
- Even.
- Well, maybe I met a girl.
- Hey, dad.
- Hey, honey.
I've got something for you, too.
Just hold on. Stay right there.
I'm partial to Yusuf Islam,
but you can call him whatever you want.
And, Bill, don't worry.
He can stay with me.
- That's so nice of you, Hank.
- Yes, Hank, that's very nice of you.
Well, you guys look like one big happy.
I am proud to report
that my daughter has just penned
one of the most impressive short stories
I've ever had the pleasure of reading.
Now, the prose was a bit
on the purple side,
but still, I had no idea
she had it in her.
The prose couldn't be that purple.
No, it was, but still,
it was good stuff.
That is something.
Well, it's what I do.
Speaking of which,
dare I ask about the blog?
Honey, to quote The Clash,
should I stay
or should I rock the Kasbah?
Do what you want, dad.
I love you no matter what.
Good morning, Hell-A.
In the land of the lotus-eaters,
time plays tricks on you.
One day you're dreaming.
The next, your dream
has become your reality.
It was the best of times.
If only someone had told me.
Mistakes were made, hearts
were broken,
harsh lessons learned.
My family goes on without me,
while I drown
in a sea of pointless pussy.
I don't know how I got here.
But here I am, rotting away
in the warm California sun.
There are things I need to figure out,
for her sake, at least.
The clock is ticking.
The gap is widening.
She won't always love me
"no matter what."