Californication (2007–2014): Season 4, Episode 11 - The Last Supper - full transcript

Previously on Californication...

The prosecution has a lame case.
And they know it too.

Now we have a serious conflict.
It's your choice, Hank.

What do you want me to do?
Fuck you or defend you?

Monday I'll take you to court,

so that you can stand trial
for raping a teenage girl.

I don't want you to be guilty.
I don't want people to look at you that way.

The State of California
versus Hank Moody. All rise.

Fuck. The rabbit done died.

- So whose is it?
- I don't know!

I'm pregnant.



Oh, Jesus.

I'm gonna be a father!

- Trixie.
- That is a terrific name, if you're a hooker.

Take Diners Club?
I'm not kidding.

- What adult film were you watching?
- Excuse me?

What the...

You saw Hank Moody with your daughter
prior to the night of August 13th?

Yes.

Quiet down.

That jury is now under the assumption
that you knew Mia

before you actually slept together.
This changes everything.

Fuck.

Guilty?

Yeah.



- What does that mean? Is he going to jail?
- I don't know, honey.

Come here.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These scripts are absolutely fuckin' shite.
Is this your idea of good writing,

or were you just too embarrassed
to tell me you didn't know how to read?

Runkle, your boy's guilty.

That shit's fucked up, dog. Respect.

I'm sorry, Charlie.

OK. OK, buddy.

How's it looking down there, Doc?

Sure. Why not?
Get your elbow all up in that piece.

Sorry. I gotta take this.

Hello?

Shit, baby, yes. I'm sorry.
No, I'll be right there.

OK, Dr Strangelove,
you gotta get your hands out of my cooch.

I gotta blow this speculum stand.

- Well, that happened.
- Yeah.

What do we do now?

Let's go get shit-faced.

Counsellor.

- So we meet again, compadre.
- Hello, Hank.

- It's you again.
- Back for another blow job?

No. No. Although that was very nice of you
that other time.

You give excellent head...

- for a nun.
- A lifetime of service, Hank.

Right. You can't let the priests
have all the fun, right?

How can I help?

It seems I've been judged, juried,
and found pretty fucking guilty.

Yes, you most certainly have.

- What's my move here?
- Well...

I think you should probably get in your car
and drive. As fast as you can.

- I don't have a car.
- Steal one.

You know, for a woman of the cloth,
you're pretty morally ambivalent, Sister.

- I'm just saying.
- Don't be such a fucking faggot, Hank.

Jesus. Sorry.

- What about my family and friends?
- What about them?

Well, it seems pretty fucking...

pretty...

mean of me to do that to them.

Seriously?
Do you really think they care?

At first... sure.

But after a while,
wouldn't they be better off?

Maybe.

Now...

how about that blow job?

Oh, dear God.

Hank is going to hell again.

- Busted.
- Hey.

I was just gonna make us some breakfast.

- Bullshit.
- I was about to go get us some breakfast.

- Bullshittier.
- All right, you got me.

- I was gonna steal a cup of coffee.
- And then leave.

Well, eventually.
Might have dropped a deuce first.

- God, what lovely morning-after talk.
- You don't want me to move in, do you?

- God, no.
- Good. I'm glad we got that settled.

- Hey. How are you doing this morning?
- I'm actually doing fantastic.

I'm happy to have gotten some primo
heterosexual coupling out of the way

before I get shipped off to the big house
where I'll start taking objects in the pooper.

Hank, we have no idea
what your sentencing will be.

- You could be looking at probation.
- I could be looking at prison.

I think I should prepare for the worstest.

I do like a man
who prepares for the worstest.

I should probably get going.

There might be some folks
that are worried sick about me.

Or not.
One never knows these days.

- Don't do anything stupid out there, OK?
- Who, me? Impossible.

Thanks for bending the rules last night.
Among other things.

Well, seeing as I failed to get you off,

I figured I might as well
throw you a pity bang.

That's funny, because I knew
you'd be beating yourself up about that,

- so I was throwing you a pity bang.
- My God! You're so generous, so sweet.

Yeah, I'm gonna make some
white power guy an excellent bitch.

- Hey.
- Oh, my God.

- You're Hank Moody.
- Yes. Yes, I am.

And you are?
I mean, what number are you?

I don't get it. I'm Peggy.

Hey, Peggy. It's not hugely important.
Is the Runkasaur around?

Upstairs.
Going poo-poo.

- Gross.
- You were found guilty.

- Yes. Yes, I was.
- Of rape.

- Statutory rape.
- Whatever.

Still got "rape" in it.

Hank? Hank? Hank?

There you are.
I tried you all day yesterday.

- Are you OK?
- I guess.

No, no, I don't think
that would be appropriate.

Well, not right now anyway.

"I don't think
that would be appropriate."

What'd she say?

She wanted to play "home invasion".
You break in, pistol-whip me,

tie me to a chair,
and then I have to watch while you rape her.

What is wrong with kids today?

Well...

- No, I'm too tired.
- That's what I figured.

I would like to pistol-whip you, though.

How you doing, buddy?
How you holding up?

- Pretty shitty. I might have to go to prison.
- I know. I'm so sorry.

Oh, boy. It's OK, buddy boy.
It's all gonna be OK.

This is not about you.
It's all about me.

I got something that might cheer you up.
Yeah, yeah.

Ta-dah!

It's your hundy large.
From Slowly We Rot 2.

Minus my ten per cent, of course.

Do not spend it all in one place.

That's it. Much better.

- I'll visit you every day.
- Just stop it.

- What? I will.
- No, Becca, just...

- I promise.
- I don't want to talk about that.

But this is what's happening, right?
This is real, Dad.

If you go to jail, I'll probably be in college
by the time you get out.

- You better be.
- I'm not afraid of it, Dad.

If you were sick, if you were dying,
I'd have to face it head-on, right?

I don't know, Becca.
I just thought...

maybe we could spend some time out here
and not think about reality for a little while.

- Take me home.
- Why?

Because I'm sick and tired
of how selfish you are.

You never think about reality.

But I live in the real world
where I need a fucking father.

You're so proud of yourself
for being such a cool dad.

Well, look where it fucking got you!

You know that I pray sometimes, Dad?

You know what I pray for the most?

That I wake up one day
and you've become a total bore.

The kind of father
who gets up every morning,

puts on a suit and tie,
drives to some lame office park,

comes home at 5:30 on the dot,
has a drink,

and hangs out with his fucking family.

How hard would that
have been for you, Dad...

to just be like everyone else?

Is that the Trixie?

Hank Moody! Hi!

- How are you?
- I'm great. Gettin' laid and gettin' paid.

When you're done with the stiff,
why don't you swing by my room?

Consider this a deposit.

Nice to see you.

You have magic hands, Hank Moody.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome, Trixella.

- So are you gonna go to jail?
- I don't know.

Quite possibly.

- You ever think about running?
- All the time.

You ever think about running?
Quitting the life?

All the time.

- I saved up a lot of money.
- Good for you, Trix.

One of these days, I'm gonna hang up
my whoring shoes and go to Vegas.

Buy a little condo.
Play the slots.

Never wrap my lips around another
male member unless I want to.

If I had a dime
for every time I've said that.

Sounds like a plan, Trix.
You should totally do that.

Maybe you should totally come with me.

I totally should, but I can't. Running's not
the right move for me right now.

Really? Running seems like
exactly the right move for you right now.

Well, I've been to jail once.
No bueno.

I promised myself
if they ever came for me again...

feets don't fail me now,
I am hitting the fucking road.

Besides, what's the point of rotting in prison
for a crime you didn't commit?

- Well, I did fuck the girl.
- But you didn't rape her.

No! No.

- I'm not judging. I see all types.
- Well, I'm not that type.

I know you're not.

You're an outlaw, Hank.
Just like me.

So do you wanna
do this thing, or what?

Do you think that I could pay you
just to be nice to me for a little while?

Sure thing, Hank.

Good morning, dear.
Milk and two sugars.

Thank you, Mother.

Kisses?

Pumpkin, good morning.

Kisses?

- Have a nice day, dear.
- I will. Thank you, sweetheart.

Honeys, I'm home!

Is that Mom's cherry pie I smell?

I love Mom's cherry pie!

"Once upon a time, there was a little boy
who always wanted more than he had.

"But when he finally grew up,

"he found out that he had everything
he could have ever wanted all along.

"The end."

- Good night, scout.
- Good night, Dad.

- What's burning?
- I am.

Have a seat.

Fuck.

Hello?

Marcy?

What? What happened?

Hello?

Surprise!

We wanted to throw you
a "Hank is innocent" party,

- but we had to work with what you gave us.
- Assholes.

Remember the time, though,
when we went to Santa Barbara

and Mr Anally-fixated over here
got us kicked out of the hotel pool?

- Oh, my God. That was so embarrassing.
- Why was that again, Charlie? Why?

I cannot speak of such things
in front of the young lady.

Why? She knows
what a disgusting perv you are.

I do. I made peace with it a long time ago.
It doesn't mean you're not a nice man.

Thank you, Becca.
You're every inch the van der Moody.

That's my girl.
Up high. Come on.

OK. I wanted to pleasure myself while
that little pump thingy blew water up my butt.

- It felt good.
- OK, Charlie.

- That's so gross.
- You told it!

I suppose I probably shouldn't
have taken my bathing suit off.

- Oh, God.
- I'm throwing up in my mouth right now.

Pity those poor kids who are
never going to forget this image

of this big, naked, man-baby
rising up from the water

like the creature
from the pasty white lagoon.

It's no grosser than your mother and father.
They used to sneak off

- to do it everywhere all the time.
- Shut up.

- In bathrooms, utility closets.
- Yeah. Yes. Yes.

True. Didn't you schlob Hank's knob
on a balcony?

Marcy, can you shut the fuck up?

Like it's a secret you guys
are a couple of nymphos.

It's better than growing up with my family.
I can't ever remember my parents

- even touching one another.
- Sorry, Beckers.

You must be so bored
by all this grown-up talk.

- Is this grown-up talk?
- I don't know what it is.

No, it's nice.

Seeing you guys together like this
reminds me of a better time.

Not better, sweetie. Just different.

It was better.
I know it was. I was there.

It was an illusion, baby.
Magic trick.

I know you think I'm too young
to understand, but I was there.

I was watching. I was listening.

You guys were all happy and in love.
And I felt safe.

I was looking forward to being a grown-up
because it looked like so much fun.

Then somewhere it all went wrong.

I don't know if it was California
or just you guys,

but it all changed one day,
almost overnight.

Take it from someone
who was watching and taking notes.

You guys were good together.

I tend to agree with the girl.

You're wise and beautiful, you know that?

You make us feel old and stupid.
And we love you for it.

- I don't want to go to sleep.
- Why not?

Because I don't know if you'll be here
when I wake up.

We'll talk about it later.

- Good night.
- Good night.

Good night.

God, I wish I could get high with y'all.

I mean, the baby's not gonna go full retard
if I just get the tiniest bit whacked, right?

- The baby.
- It won't.

I cannot endorse that shit.

I mean, this medicinal stuff is strong.

Well, I know.
So you better be careful.

Especially you, jackamo.

You can never handle your weed.

I feel like I'm wearing
a very warm toupee right now.

And I feel a tingling in my underpants.

That'd be me, Bogart.
Come on.

You see that? Becca was right.

We're good together.
We were good together. We still are.

God damn it.

Well, if she's right,
then how did we end up here?

I mean...

- Hi, my name's Karen.
- Hi, Karen.

Hello, Karen.

The love of my life
and the father of my child...

is...

is a convicted child molester.

Yeah, dude!

Oh, my God. Hello!

And you're the crazy bitch
who stayed with him all of these years.

- I know! What is wrong with me?
- Oh, my God. Seriously. No, babe,

you're like one of those freaky cunts
who marries the serial killers on death row.

Jesus Christ, Marcy, I'm right here!

- Sorry, but...
- And what about you?

You're having an out-of-wedlock baby
with Stu Beggs.

Church.

I'm just glad it's not Rick Springfield's baby.

OK, cock-snot, what about you?

You're out there sticking your micro-phallus
into some seriously damaged pussy.

Church.
I met one of those this morning.

Come on.

Charlie, she seemed like
she was out of her fucking gourd.

That's Peggy. She blows my mind.
Sexually.

- She has no boundaries.
- You need boundaries.

Sometimes you just need someone to say,

"No, let's not do that,
because that is fucking sick."

Otherwise, we'd all be running around
with shit, piss and blood all over ourselves

and shoving vibrators up our asses all day.

Wait a minute.

Hank, I'm gonna miss you.

Oh, Marce, why'd you have to do that?

We were having such a good time.

I know. But I love you
and I don't want you to be in trouble.

I want things to go back
to the way they were.

The way we were.

No more tears. I'm a big boy.
I did the crime, I can do the time.

But you didn't. You got fucked.

I fucked myself a long, long time ago.

Someone's feeling sorry for himself.

You know what that means?

You know what we gotta do!

- Oh, yeah.
- Pile up. Come on.

- Oh, we're doing that?
- Ticklish.

Spread your pussy!
Watch the baby.

You must be really baked.

- Why do you say that?
- Cos you're dancing with me.

A convicted felon.

Well, it must be true what they say -
there's someone for everyone.

Well, thank you for today.
Short of making sweet love to me,

that was the nicest thing
you could have done for me.

You're welcome. It was fun.

I mean, it's nice to escape reality
once in a while, right?

Yeah. I almost escaped today.

I was driving.

I just thought about... driving off.

- I know.
- How?

Because you had that look in your eye.
Fight or flight.

You're right. I know everything
there is to know about you.

- Lucky you.
- I am lucky.

I'm lucky to have known you.

I'm lucky to have loved you.

But I feel it's finally over.

Which is kind of a relief.

Over.

You don't want me, Hank.

Well, that's not true.

Isn't it?

Becca was right.

We were good together.
We were happy.

I thought we were a fucking fairy tale.

But if you're careless with something
for long enough, you know, it breaks.

And that's how I feel. Broken.

Completely and utterly broken.

From the second that you told me
about Mia till now,

it's been a bad dream, you know?

I've been sleepwalking through my life.

And I can't do that any more.
I can't live like that.

I understand.

- I'll go.
- I didn't say I wanted you to go.

Karen, I don't get it.
What do you want from me?

Something you can't give me.

Something you've never been able
to give me.

Something to look forward to.

- I'm sorry.
- Don't be. It's not your fault. It's mine.

- It's always been mine.
- That's not true. Don't say that.

If you were gonna have sex
with someone

and you knew that it would be
the absolute last time...

what do you think it would be like?

I think it would be incredibly sad.

Yeah, so do I.

Make me sad.