Californication (2007–2014): Season 5, Episode 1 - JFK to LAX - full transcript

Previously on Californication...

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?

Incredibly sad.

Make me sad.

Who the fuck are you?

Stu Beggs. Nice to meet you.

- I met the wife.
- Yeah, soon-to-be-ex. Splitsville.

So you wouldn't mind
if I took a crack at her?

Want to know how many women
I've slept with?



- Mmm-mmm.
- I got to get it up to 100.

Triple digits. Then I can die happy.

- I'm pregnant.
- I'm gonna be a father!

- I'm carrying Charlie's baby.
- What?

What the fuck?

You know what I think, Dad?

I think it's all gonna be OK.

Chapters end.

Sometimes you gotta shake things up.

Check out of this dump.

Go home.

You're amazing.

A goddess.

A gift from on high.



You deserve the white dress
and the happy ending.

Are we gonna take this thing
to the next level or what?

Huh? What?

Well, we're coming up on a year, Hank.

- Really? Wow.
- Mmm-hmm.

Time certainly doth fly.

We've kept it pretty cas.

I've been pretty careful

about making sure I don't make
any demands on your time.

I don't want to be that girl.

No, you've been a great not-that girl.

I just want to know
what you see us becoming...

Eventually.

I see us becoming incredibly close,

great friends eventually.

After the part where you hate my guts
for a long, cold winter.

It's not that I'm not fond of you.
I am.

Inordinately so.

It's just that I enjoy
the casual nature of things.

I'm a casual guy.

You know, I have to be
because I'm damaged.

Broken really.

You know, old dog, no new tricks.

But you, you're amazing.

A goddess. A gift from on high.

You deserve the white dress
and the happy ending.

I'm just not the guy
to give it to you, you know?

And... See, you're mad.

I can tell.

I'm not mad.

- You're not?
- No.

- Well, I'm glad.
- No, no.

It's just...
You fucked me in the ass, Hank.

Oh, are we speaking metaphorically,
because...

No, I gave up the butt for you.

Do you think I would have
let you sodomise me

if I didn't think
there was a future here?

You did say that you liked it
more than you thought you would.

Yeah, well, that's not the point.

That's not the point.

This man's a monster.

He likes to fuck women in the ass

and then tell them that he
just wants to keep it casual.

Who calling my phone?

It's your agent calling from the coast

with the prospect
of a significant payday.

I'll take it.

- Don't you want to know what it is?
- Nope.

Can you book me on the next-ish flight
to this coast of which you speak?

Uh-oh. What happened?
What did you do?

I've got kind of
a bunny-boiler situation happening.

She's got a key to my place.

I may need to crash at the villa
for a few days.

- Is that cool?
- Hey, mi casa, amigo.

I'll even pick you up at the airport.

Thanks, Runks. Much appreesh.

Looking forward to it, buddy.
I've missed your black ass!

Later, masturbator.

Oh, shit.

Did I just do what I think I just did?

- Yes.
- Oh, I am so truly...

- You did.
...madly, deeply sorry.

You know, and that
doesn't change the fact

that I now have a puddle in my lap.

Well, one could argue
that it's not entirely my fault

that you force grown men
to make huge puddles in your lap.

- I'm not laughing.
- Sure you are.

Little bit?
On the inside, maybe? Yeah.

- OK, I have it. Thanks.
- Man, what are the odds?

Of what?

Usually, I get on a plane,
I'm seated next to John Candy,

you know, or Ruth Gordon, if I'm lucky.

But I end up next to the most
beautiful woman in the tri-state area,

and I go and spill a drink in her lap.

Nice work, huh?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The tri-state area?

You're world-class.
You're runway calibre.

You're so beautiful
you're almost ugly.

I just didn't want it
to go to your head.

Hank.

Uh, 2-A. That's me.

- Sorry.
- Well, you'd better be, pal.

Oh, God, I'm sorry.

No, no, no, no, hold on.

Just wait. Hold on a second.

Can't you just take her seat?

If the ticket says 2-A, then 2-A
is where I'm parking my posterior.

Real stickler for the rules, this guy.

That's how we keep
the trains running on time.

Choo-choo!

Nice to meet you, Hank.

- Bye, Miss Never-got-your-name.
- Bye-bye.

Excuse me. My goodness.

Wow.

Sorry.

Oh.

Ah! Whew!

I have got to get this under control.
I'm almost too fat to fly.

- Some?
- No.

No, I'm good. Thanks.

Shoot, sorry, sorry.

Jeez, go ahead before I shit myself.

- Excuse me?
- Go. Go sit with your wife.

She guilted me into swapping with you.

Enjoy your fucking honeymoon.

It's almost like the pursuit
of this one woman,

this one relationship,
became its own form of heroin.

I was strung out, you know?

I was driving her crazy,
making my kid miserable.

But when you finally give up
and let go,

good stuff starts to happen.

She's better now. My kid's fantastic.

And I'm keeping it simple.

Such a sad, sweet tale of woe.

I'm surprised you made it
through the whole thing.

I thought you might try to
hang yourself there at some point.

You know,
I actually did think about it,

but I figured, you know,
that'd be kind of rude

since you were pouring
your heart out and all.

- Appreciate that.
- Yeah.

But, you know, this has been nice
to actually have a conversation

where someone who isn't
trying to get in my pants.

You mean my epic love story
for the ages isn't pure panty-peeler?

OK, excuse me.

I'm gonna go
to the little girls' room.

Well, if you don't want me
to try to get in your pants,

don't talk dirty to me.

You know, I really hope
that no one comes in on me.

Lock the door.

See, that's the thing.

I always forget.

What the fuck
do you think you're doing?

I'm sorry. I thought you...

I'm just kidding.

I thought you had to pee.

I already did.

I'm sorry I missed that.

Have you done this before?

Kissed a girl? A couple of times.

- In an aeroplane bathroom?
- Believe it or not, no.

It always seemed like
more trouble than it was worth.

But, now that I'm here,

I think I was just holding out
for the right gal.

For the love of Christ!
Save it for the honeymoon suite.

I've got serious work
I gotta do in here.

Thanks for
pretty much the best flight ever.

You're very welcome.

I guess we shouldn't ruin it
by keeping in touch or anything.

I couldn't agree more.

You know what they say,

what happens in small, cramped toilets
stays in small, cramped toilets.

That's one of my favourite sayings.

Right up there with
"Eatin' ain't cheatin'."

You know, it's been a long time
since I just made out with a guy.

You dirty slut.

I know. It was kind of hot, though.

Yeah. You know, maybe we
should do it again sometime

with more room
to move one's extremities.

You did not experience
my best work, lady.

I've got some serious moves.

I need to be able to
extend and retract and...

I've got to loosen up.

If I have...
Maybe I should get your number.

Hold on. Let me just...
I can never work this thing.

Hey, come on, cock blocker.

Roll down the window.

Hey...

- Whoo!
- Runks!

Aah!

And Little Runks!

Up high for Uncle Hankness.

You can do it! My man!

Hey, you're looking good.

- He talking yet?
- Nope. Not a word.

Marce do tell me it's totally normal.

- How old now?
- 2.5.

- Totally not normal, Charlie.
- I know!

That's what I keep saying!

That's a sweet ride you got here.

I was totally expecting
one of your faggoty little girl cars.

This is how much I missed you.

Leasing this very expensive
penis extension

made me feel closer
to my brother from another mother.

Oh, you sweet, bald,
cock-hungry homo, you.

Hank, Hank.

He may not say much but he's not deaf.

I'm sorry.

I just see you, I get all excited.
The words just spill out.

Hank.

Sorry. They all look the same.

- What? In a good way.
- Right.

Condescending to the last.

Maybe the houses
all look the same, but you...

- You look amazing.
- Thank you.

Easy, tiger.

Oh, I can't believe we haven't fucked
for two years, nine months,

three weeks and 69 hours.

What? It's a compliment.
I'd still totally do you.

Good to know.

As I recall, it was mish into doggie.
Segued quite seamlessly into cowgirl.

I came twice. You just the once.
A guy remembers these things.

It would appear that I owe you one.

- How are you, Hank?
- Most excellent, thank you.

Mmm-hmm.
Are you still keeping it simple

- with, um, what's-her-name?
- Nope.

Ended that just last night,
thank you very much.

- Ah! Hence, the sudden arrival.
- Nonsense.

The business of show
has brought me to the left coast.

And how could I pass up an opportunity
to gaze upon my ladies?

Alas, this one's
not your lady any more, Hank.

Bates! Good to see you wearing pants.
How's it tucking?

Well, that's between me
and your ex-baby mama.

She's still my baby mama
and always will be.

Get used to it. That will not change.

Didn't we do this once before
and it ended in fisticuffs?

Yes. And a good fisticuffs it was.
Epic.

Mmm-hmm.
In fact, I think we needed to do it.

Like men in prison.
We had to get it out of the way.

We had to do the man dance
just once, just a taste,

so we could move on with our lives

and become the Cold War powers
that we are today.

Is that what it was?

Cos I seem to remember you
pissing me off to such an extent,

I was left with no choice
but to take a swing.

I hit you right back.
Don't forget that part.

- No blood.
- Sizeable shiner.

Yeah, blood's more embarrassing.

Karen had to get you a towel,
some ice.

- Fresh pair of panties, too, right?
- Yep. Still wearing them.

How's Becca?

- Wonderful.
- Uh...

- What's that?
- Nothing.

No, that is definitely not nothing.

In fact, that's exactly
the kind of frown I'd give you

if you were trying to
bullshit a bullshitter.

It's her fucking boyfriend.
I mean, I wanna kill him, Hank.

I mean, I don't wanna kill him.
I wanna dismember him. Slowly.

And pour Tabasco sauce
in his torn, bloody asshole

as he dies, screaming for
his mommy and daddy.

- Yeah.
- Nice.

Karen,

if you absolutely have to be with
someone else, this is the right guy.

I know. He's like you.

But awesome.

That's me.

Whatever!

Gross. This is gross. Cut it out.

Where is she? What's the story?

I don't know.
She didn't come home last night.

What? What kind of shop
are you guys running around here?

- That's what I always say.
- You know, she's at college, Hank.

I mean, you know, she stays
some nights with her boyfriend.

It's been known to happen.

She's having sex with this guy?

- I should hope so.
- Why?

- Because he's hot.
- Oh...

Who are you?

He's a real fucking doucheboat
is what he is.

You know what? We'll have dinner.

I'll make sure she brings him. OK?

Fine. Why not?

Dinner with the ex, her new husband.

My insolent daughter,
her asshole boyfriend.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

This is not shaping up
to be a great trip. Not at all.

I've only been in LA
a couple of hours,

and I'm already supremely
fucking agitated.

Have I told you about how much
money you stand to make?

I don't believe it, Runks.
Nothing's ever that easy.

And I'm not jumping through
any hoops to land this thing,

whatever this thing is.
What is this thing?

Hello!

Hello! Ex-wife!

Hello!

Big time movie producer guy? Hello?

What the fuck?

I'm gonna take a piss.

Oh... Eat that bitch!

- Goddamn it!
- Mmm.

Goddamn it! No, harder.

Yes! Ah!

Charlie!
Come here, Charlie, Charlie.

She moan like that
when you used to munch her out?

Hardly. Of course, I didn't have
quite as many quatloos in the bank,

and an Academy Award on my shelf.

These things have been known
to enhance the female orgasm.

Stuart!

Close your eyes, son!

Charlie?

Hank. Stuart.

Irma!

Christ on a cross.

Hank. Oh, so good to see you.

Hey, can we do this a little later
when you lose the wood?

- Wash your face?
- Yeah. Oh!

Yeah. Sorry.
And this is gonna be a while.

I just popped a Niagara.

You mean a Viagra.

No, we call it Niagara around here

because my rock-hard endowment

makes Marcy gush like Niagara Falls.

- Oh! So Marcy's a squirter now?
- Oh, yeah.

Things have really changed
in my absence.

Yeah, Marcy's in the throes of
a real sexual renaissance now, Hank.

- It's exhilarating.
- It's good to hear.

That's really good to hear.

But you're too young
to mess with that Niagara shit, Stu.

I know, I know. I just
really like the nine-hour boner.

It makes me feel alive.
You know, I get shit done.

What is wrong with you people?

You're like a couple of teenagers!

Yeah, well, Irma was supposed
to be watching him.

It was a quickie, Runkle.

Then we were all going
for some fro-yo.

Speaking of which, why is he
eating these terrible snacks?

Oh, settle down, soccer mom.

Hanky! Hug!

Mwah!

Oh, you smell like sex.

- Yes, I do!
- And weed.

Well, yeah, mama's little helper.

I take a puff sky or two and I
get the sex munchies, you know?

I'm going through
a real sexual renaissance.

I heard.

Irma.

What the fuck?

Language, Marcy!

He sneak away. He always sneak away.
He so quiet, like a mouse.

Oh, dios mio!

It doesn't have anything to do
with you watching your stories?

El gordo y la flaca?

I know all about it, Irma!

I'm calling immigration, motherfucker!

No, no, no, no!

What are you guys doing here?

What are we doing here?
We came for the meeting.

Jesus, Runkle. Didn't you
get the message? There is no meeting.

He wants Hank to come to him.
One-on-one.

- Face time.
- Who the fuck is "he"?

Samurai Apocalypse.

- What? Huh?
- The rapper?

Oh, have a little respect, Runkle.

The man has transcended
rapper long ago.

Sam is a producer, businessman,
entrepreneur, humanitarian.

No, he's a major player, Hank. Major.

And I pass.

Oh, no, no, no, no.
You have to take the meeting.

He really is an inspiring human being.

He also has writer approval,

and he hasn't liked
anyone we've sent him.

First of all,
I'm not auditioning for anyone.

Especially someone who calls
himself Samurai Apocalypse.

And, secondly,
why wasn't I first on the list?

What I... I wasn't aware...

Hollywood assholes.

Well...

TM. You ever try it?

Truth be told, I get more satisfaction
out of a solid BM.

Thank you, Alfred.

- Alfred. Really?
- Fuck, yeah, man.

When I was a kid, I told my moms,

"Mama, when I get rich and famous,
I'm gonna get me an Alfred."

Your moms must be proud,

because you gots yourself
a fucking Alfred, all right.

I don't even know
the motherfucker's real name.

I just call him Alfred,
and he snaps right to it.

I don't even know
if I pay this motherfucker.

He might be my slave.

Take that, white people.

You know, I dug your book,
man, for real.

- Thank you.
- That shit was crazy.

All right. Thanks.

When that chick
squirted all over Runkle,

I laughed so hard,
I almost shit in my own pants, man.

Yeah, Runkle's always good
for a laugh.

- And a shart.
- You're telling me.

Motherfucker's
a walking Pez dispenser.

Chha, chha, chha, chha, chha.

So you read the book, huh? Cool.

You think I can't read, man?

What kind of shit
is that to say to a brother, yo?

I read your shit
from cover to cover, man,

even the boring, pretentious parts.

Yo, I think you the guy
to write my shit.

- What do you have in mind?
- Santa Monica Cop.

I don't know what that means.

Look, man,
I did this rap shit already.

Sold gold, platinum, zirconium, check.

Got my own energy drink,
Apocalypse Wow, check.

Got the fat-ass Scarface crib,
crazy rides,

and all the pussy a nigga can eat.

Check, check, check.
So what's next? The movies.

But I wanna do my own thing,
my own moment.

Santa Monica Cop is my
Eddie Murphy moment right now!

So it's like Beverly Hills Cop.

Nah, nigga, it's set in Santa Monica.

OK. I see the difference.

You a kingmaker, man.
I wanna be a king, yo.

- Yeah...
- You in?

I don't know.
It's not really my thing.

What the fuck else you gonna do,
write another book?

Fuck that.
Let's get paid, motherfucker.

- Damn.
- Hi.

Get your sexy ass over here, mama.

- What's up, mama?
- Hey.

Hank Moody, this is Kali.

Remember this name, Kali.

Yo, she's gonna be a star.
Gonna blow this bitch up.

Kali, this is Hank Moody,
the writer/rapist.

Nice to meet you, Hank.

And you.

Oh, God. Sorry.
Didn't mean to get a puddle on you.

- Sorry.
- She keeps it cool for sure, yo.

Well, looks like you two
are about to fornicate,

which is typically my cue.

Keep it real up in the field, a'ight?

I'm gonna keep in touch, Moody.

You can't escape Apocalypse now, yo!

Hasn't been that long, Dad.

Uh-oh.

- You got that look.
- What look?

That drunken, boy-crazy look.

- Promise you'll be nice.
- Nice?

What are you talking about?
I'm always nice.

You might wanna get used to this one.

I could see him sticking.

To my shoe, maybe.

Like an unpleasant chunk of dog turd?

Hey.

How old of a mammal
might you be, Tyler?

- I'm 24, Hank.
- 24. Hmm.

24.

Touch too old for my daughter, don't
you think, maybe? Tad inappropriate?

- Dad.
- Daughter.

- You're being a dick.
- Am not.

- Am, too.
- Am not!

- He's not being a dick, baby.
- Baby? Really?

He's just a concerned father.

You know?
The two are easily confused.

I don't think age
is an issue here, Hank.

Becca is wise beyond her years,

and I'm nothing
if not somewhat stunted.

- That sounds familiar.
- Ooh.

Well, har-dee-har-har, Karen.
So funny, I forgot to laugh.

I'll take a snifter of that
vino rouge you got there, Tyler.

Oh. Sorry, Hank. Looks like I killed it.

All by yourself?

Again with the rude, no?

Maybe, but it was an
incredibly tasty super Tuscan.

You snooze, you lose.

Hank, look, um, I get it, I do.

A young, good-looking guy swoops in,

starts sniffing around
your one and only,

and you question his motives.
It's totally understandable.

But I really like your daughter.

We're having fun, we're hanging out,
we're keeping it simple.

And, uh, I come in peace, OK?

It's all good.

- It's all good?
- Yeah.

- He's really charming.
- It's all good!

You hear that, Karen? It's all good.

- Yes, it's all good.
- It's all good.

We should get going, babe.
We're gonna be late.

Hold on, hold on, hold on a second.
Is anybody gonna say anything?

OK, it's on me,
the designated asshole.

You're not really thinking
of driving, are you?

You just finished off
a whole bottle of wine.

Hank, come on.

Who puts wine in the drinking
and driving category?

Oh, I don't know.

Maybe people who have lost kids
to smarmy little fucks

who suck down super Tuscans
and then got behind the wheel?

And you've certainly
never consumed alcohol

and gotten behind the wheel,
have you, Dad?

I have made certain mistakes, Becca.
This has been well-documented.

But because of my foolishness,
you don't have to make the same ones.

Great seeing you, Dad.
Always a pleasure.

Becca, wait.

See how easy that was?
Problem solved.

She's quite the little
troubleshooter, that one.

It was nice to finally meet you, Hank.

I'm truly sorry
if we got off on the wrong foot.

- Take care, Karen.
- Bye.

Jesus.

Even feels like a creep.
Clammy fucking mitts.

I don't like it. Not one bit.

Hank, you're here
for a couple of days.

Is this how you want to
leave things with your daughter?

I think I'm gonna let
the grown-ups hash this one out.

You know where I stand.
I hate his stupid fucking guts.

And I love you for it, Batesy.

Your support means the world to me.

Seriously.
I could felch you right now.

You know, it wouldn't be the first time
a man has tongued my asshole

- in gratitude.
- Shut up, shut up!

Rain check.

- He's kidding, right?
- You don't get it, do you?

- What?
- He's you.

Yes. You said so earlier.
He's like me, only awesomer.

And I'm not sure I like the way
you phrased it,

but I certainly understand
the sentiment,

and I choose to see a compliment...

Hank, will you shut the fuck up?

- Cos I'm a bright side guy.
- I'm not talking about Richard.

- Tyler.
- What?

What are you talking about?
The kid's a loathsome fucking asshole.

Well, there are certain members
of my family

who said the very same thing
about you.

Your folks, maybe. Not your sister.
She always dug me.

She used to molest me with her
eyes something fierce. I could tell.

Got me a little wet. Not gonna lie.

Wow. I can't believe
it's taken me this many years

to realise you ended up
with the wrong sister.

Oh, she was a foxy little minx, that one,
but she didn't turn on my heartlight.

So what's the move here, Karen?

Move? There is no move.

No, there's always a move.

She likes him. He says he likes her.
It works until it doesn't.

That sounds awfully familiar.

I'm not in the mood, Hank.
I'm going back to my life.

Yeah, who can blame you?
It's a nice life.

What? You did well for yourself.

You got a white picket fence
and everything.

Yep. Home sweet home.

I know bait when I hear it,
and this little fishy ain't biting.

Good night.

Good night, former lover.

Oh.

One

Hundred!

I win!

Hank, buddy,
I didn't even hear you come in.

Hank, Hank, this is Ginger.

Ginger, this is my best friend
and star client, Hank Moody.

- Hi, Hank.
- Hey, Ginger.

Any naked friend of Charlie's
is a naked friend of mine.

Whoo-hoo!

Whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo!

What's with the victory lap, dude?

It's the 100th woman, Hank!

Un cento, baby. Remember? My quest.

Oh! Wow, yeah.
It took you this long to get to 100?

What am I talking about?
Of course it did.

I know, right? But I did it.
I made myself a promise and I kept it!

My heart and cock swelleth with pride.

Hey! I'm really happy you were here
to see me cross the finish line.

Me, too.

How was your day, buddy?

Well, it started off all right,
and then it got a little weird,

and then it just went
all sideways and shitty.

What'd you think of
Samurai Apocalypse?

Yeah. Can you give me a ride
back to LAX right now?

Oh, come on, come.
There's no need to be rash.

Look, you have yourself a drink. Hmm?

- Chillax, enjoy the view!
- Hey, no. No!

That's how it starts, Charlie, stop.

Who this?

Oh.

Who?

Oh. Yeah?

Wait. What?

Say that again.

Wow. Wow.

Whoa.

OK. Um...

Well, thanks for calling.

I guess.

Who that?

My neighbour back in New York.

Everything OK?

My apartment's on fire.