Entourage (2004–2011): Season 4, Episode 8 - Gary's Desk - full transcript

Not a bad neighborhood, E.

And you're relatively close
to the House of Wax.

You got a Jiffy Lube
right across the street.

And if you had a hard day,

you're only a few
steps away from a $50 blowjob.

Please, we passed $50 10 blocks ago.

What do you need an office for anyway?
I don't get it.

You didn't get the concept of having
a job till you were 25, Turtle,

so I wouldn't expect you to.

If it's my place that's
not doing it for you, E,

we can make some modifications,



make the environment
more work-friendly.

I appreciate that, Drama.
The only modification

that would work would be
having you guys move out.

Why, are we distracting?

No, having Turtle
blow bong hits in my face

when I'm trying to read
a script is motivating.

- This is the building?
- Shut up and get in there.

Jesus Christ.
What the hell?

I guess you don't like it?

Well, it doesn't exactly scream

"I'm Vincent Chase's manager. "

No. It screams "I'm Johnny Chase's. "

Why do I gotta get abused

when we're trying to abuse him?



It's just for a laugh.

- This is gonna be your desk?
- Yeah, for now.

No no no.
A working man needs a real desk,

a sturdy desk.

One that can support a good fuck.

Well, this office isn't for show.

And it's not for fucking.
It's so I can get shit done.

Like what?

Yeah, what do you got
to do that's so pressing?

I am kind of booked till
Walsh hands in his script.

So what do you want to do?
You want to sit around and do nothing?

You have something else in mind?

Peter Jackson's starting
a new gaming division.

They're looking to make some talent
deals... Big dough, limited exposure.

I'm gonna call his development
guy and set up a meeting.

Maybe I can
lock us a video game. Sound good?

- Sounds great.
- Yeah?

- The office still sucks.
Yeah, it's terrible.

Come on, guys.
Let's leave my high-powered manager

so he can earn us some money.

- Later, E.
- What are we gonna do all day?

We'll figure it out.

Big day today, people!

The Gold standard's golden girl,

Miss Mary J. Blige,

is coming in today for her annual

"make-me-understand-
what-I-pay-you-people-for"

meeting, so we'd better be ready.

- Chris!
- Uh, I'm ready, Ari.

- Bradley!
- Wearing my best tie, Ari.

Great, zip up that fly.

- Ari...
- Hey, Jim.

- It's Jeff.
- I'm sorry. From the side, you know...

- Yeah, don't worry about it.
- You and your bro ready for Mary J?

We are. But listen, just a heads up:

My brother and I have been
having some personal problems.

Does it have anything
to do with Mary J?

No, it does not.

- Then it has nothing to do with me.
- You're absolutely right.

But you know how
emotional Jim can be.

So, look, if he comes bugging you with
this, just ignore him.

Let's hope he
doesn't come bugging me.

Yeah. Let's hope.

Did Mary J. Confirm?

Six times, one for each Grammy.

- What's that smell?
- It's Issey Miyake, her favorite scent.

I'm wearing it as a subtle
subliminal show of our support.

- What else you got?
- Jim Jensen's in your office.

Oh, Jesus Christ,
his brother just ambushed me.

Yeah, I guess there's some kind of
rift with the Jensen boys.

- Be careful in there.
- Careful?

You know multiples freak me out, Ari.

Can gays have multiples, Lloyd?

Jim! Not the day for this.

How's it going with the baby bro?

Okay, he's 27 seconds
older than me, Ari.

And he's a lowlife
slimy piece of cunt shit.

Yes, well, you know
how siblings can be, right?

- Oh, you have a brother?
- I do.

And a whore of a sister, so I can
relate to the sibling squabblings.

I need you to fire him, Ari.

I need positivity today, Jim.

But, Ari, I can't work
in the same building with him.

Jeter and A-Rod let their dicks
fly in the same locker room

- and they hate each other.
- Okay, Ari...

Jim, listen to me.

Just man the fuck up, okay?

We got Mary J. Coming in today.

It's time to heed
the woman's lyrics... "No More Drama. "

- Matt Dravitzki's on the phone.
- Who's Matt Dravitzki?

VP of Peter Jackson's company.

Do I talk to VPs?

He says he's calling
because E called him

and said Vince wants
to work with Peter.

Jim, go back to work.

Go.

And don't ask to see her tatts
like you did with Angelina.

Hello.

Ooh, look at this sweet piece, Vince.

It's perfect. E will love it.

Can I go on record and say
that when I get an office

I want my gift to be a plasma?

Can I go on the record
and say by the time you get an office,

plasmas will have gone
the way of the eight-track?

Excuse me, miss.

Can you tell me a little
something about this desk?

Oh, that's an amazing piece
with a lot of history.

- You've got a good eye.
- Well, thank you.

Do you know what
kind of weight this can support?

This is a signed Majorelle
built in the 1930s.

Mickey Rooney sat at this desk
in "Breakfast at Tiffany's. "

- Mmm.
- Huh, that's ironic.

We want it so another
small Irishman can sit at it.

Oh, is this a gift?
- Yeah.

That's very thoughtful.

How thoughtful?

$42,000.

Get a 100-inch
plasma for that, Vin.

This is an investment, though.

This desk will appreciate
like a piece of art.

And Robert De Niro owned that desk.

Really?

Yeah, Scorsese gave it to him as a gift

after "New York, New York" bombed.

It was the only thing that survived

after his Malibu home
went up in flames.

- Is this true?
- Cross my heart and hope to die.

Hmm.

I'm sold.

I wonder if De Niro
ever fucked on this desk.

Hmm, I don't know, Drama.

Why don't you lean over
and sniff it for ball wax?

Turtle, come on.
You have to ruin the desk for me?

- I'm sorry, Vin.
- Vince, I am so embarrassed,

but apparently a buyer
came in yesterday

and someone forgot to put
the sold tag out.

- You're kidding?
- I feel awful.

We have another great desk
that just came in.

It's a rustic piece.

- Yeah, De Niro own that one?
- I'm really sorry.

Is there any way
we can call the buyer

and maybe offer him
a little more?

- We really want the desk.
- I'm sorry, I couldn't.

We're supposed to respect
the privacy of our clients.

Can you respect my poor little friend

sitting at a fold-up table
in his sad little office?

It was Gary Busey.

Hey.

Shit!

Eric Murphy.

Like the new office number, E.

You know it spells 274-COCK.

- It does not.
- No, it doesn't, but I made you look.

Why are you so out of breath?

Are you christening the place
with a nice midday jerk?

Stop fantasizing, Ari.
What do you want?

You call Peter Jackson's company?

- Yeah, how'd you know?
- 'Cause they called me.

Why'd they call you?

Because they don't know
who the fuck you are.

I told them I was
Vincent Chase's manager.

Well, there are people
outside your office right now

that will claim to be Lady Di.
That don't make it true.

Whatever. This is true, you jerk-off.

Your staff is ready, Ari.

Listen, we got a great system going.

Just 'cause you got
80 square feet of office space

doesn't mean you can go
and fuck it up.

And what system is that, Ari?
Just so I'm clear.

Well, let's see, people call me,

then I call you.
You tell Vince what I tell you.

Vince tells you what to tell me.

You're like a...
A ventriloquist in a dummy's body.

Whatever. I can make
and take my own meetings.

Well, listen, if you want
people to call you back,

may I suggest that you get a van

with a large bullhorn on the top,

drive around Hollywood

announcing that after three years
of hibernating in Vincent Chase's ass,

Eric Murphy has come
out to play-ee-ay?

All right! Let's do this, everybody!

- Everyone feeling good?
Yes! Yeah! Great!

Not everyone.

All right!

I am not Ari Gold today,
I am the queen of hip-hop soul.

I have sold 65 million more records

than all of you combined.

Impress me. Go.

A broadway musical based
on her alter ego Brook Lynn.

Miss Blige could produce,
star and direct.

Uh, so you want to keep her
on the stage for nine months

and out of the recording studio?

It's a really good idea.

Mention that to her
and I'll kill both of you.

ARl: Next.

Paramount has a movie
about con artists.

It's an excellent script,
very realistic.

Yeah, he'd know since
he's a pretty big con artist himself.

You have something
productive to say?

I'm sorry, Ari, I'm just
having trouble concentrating.

- Well, Jim, this isn't the place.
- Oh, what?

Am I embarrassing you?

No, you're
embarrassing yourself.

Actually, no one can tell
you two apart,

so you're both being embarrassed.

Ari, Ari, I told you,
I can't work with him.

What are you gonna do?
Are you gonna quit?

No, I told him to fire you.

- What?
- Yeah, that's right, scumbag.

Okay, you know what?
I apologized to you.

But when you go
after my livelihood...

Hey, assholes!

- Fuck your livelihood!
- Fuck you!

- Fuck you!
- Fuck me?!

You want some?

Put them both in my office
when it's done.

Remind me to sell this
as a reality show.

Sounds too easy is all I'm saying.

The guy said he'd be
happy to sell me the desk.

Let's just
get in and out. No small talk.

Busey scares me, Vin.
You sure there's not another desk?

This is the desk we're getting, Turtle.
Just don't small talk, okay?

Johnny?

I like talking to Busey.

The tortoise, the hare
and the millionaire.

It is so good to see you guys.

I've had walking pneumonia
for the past couple of weeks.

Haven't had any guests.

But for the beginning
of new guests, you are the best.

Come on in.

Come on. Come on.

So, you've come to acquire
my newly-acquired desk.

It's for E as a gift.

Yeah, he's got a sweet new office

and it'll complement
the place perfectly.

There's no way
I'm gonna part with that desk.

But, Gary, you said on the phone...

That phone call was
two years ago, Mr. Vince.

Gary, my brother is prepared to pay

whatever he's got to pay
to get that desk. Name your price.

Easy, Johnny, easy.

Uh, yes, I am willing to pay, Gary,

but let's be reasonable.

You paid 42, I'll give you 50.

Money will bury you, Vince.

- Okay, all right.
- Here, sit down.

Let's find harmony in this circle.

Good.

Why are you so quiet?

You scare me, Gary.

It's your reflection in the mirror

that scares you, Turtle.

Gary, what exactly do you want?

I'm planning a series of portraits

and I've chosen my next subject.

- You want to paint me?
- No. You don't know pain.

I... I don't follow.

Drama, I've chosen you.

You want to paint me?

No, I want to paint on you.

Now I don't follow.

This is a statement
of enlightened photography:

The unseen faces of the familiar.

I painted George Hamilton white.

I've taken 230 Ibs off Dom Deluise

by painting him with vertical stripes.

With you, I will paint you

to bring out
your beauty and your truth.

- Good luck.
- So what do you say, Johnny?

I don't know, bro. I got tiny pores.

- It could suffocate me.
- Hey!

Only denial will suffocate you.

- Come on, Drama. It's for E.
- It's for E.

And for immortality.

"Daily Variety" ad sales, can I help you?

Hi. I'd like to take out an ad

in tomorrow's paper
announcing my company.

Okay, no problem.
I need the name of your business.

The Murphy Group.

Yeah, you like that?

It's okay. What do you do?

I represent Vincent Chase.

Ooh! I liked "Aquaman. "

- Cool.
- But according to the SAG database,

Ari Gold represents Vincent Chase.

Well, I'm his manager.

Oh, that's nice.
Who else do you represent?

- Just Vince.
- So why the "Group"?

I thought it sounded good.
What, it doesn't?

If there was a group it might.

Well, whatever.
I'm gonna go with the Group.

What do you want the ad to say?

"The Murphy Group

is proud to be
representing Vincent Chase. "

Okay, but we need confirmation

that you actually manage Vincent
Chase before we can use his name.

- What kind of confirmation?
- Client management papers, perhaps.

I don't have those.

You represent Vincent Chase
with no papers?

- Yes.
- Do you think that's smart?

Look, what else can I do to confirm?

You can have Ari Gold's office call us,
'cause we know who he is.

Hello?

Uh, look, whatever. You know what?

I'll get some papers
or something, thank you.

Freak.

Hey, Ari!
- Shut the fuck up!

I've heard enough out of both
of you today. Lloyd, go.

You guys should've had
this out in the carpool in.

We don't carpool, Ari.
We live on opposite sides of town.

Really? 'Cause I would've
pictured you two

living in the same condo together in,
like, bunk beds with a little racecar...

- Ari...
- Shut up! Don't say another word!

Pretend like you're
afraid of me, okay?

Because I'm feeling
a little insecure right now,

because I'm wondering
what I'm doing wrong

that would allow you two
to fuck with my focus

on a day when I need to be
on my A game.

On a day, when, if I'm not,

we could see M.J. Hip and hop her way

back to I.C.M.

And if that were to happen, best case,

you two are managers in the Valley.

Worst case, you're a freak show

performing at the Santa Monica Pier.

Now, with that in mind, tell me

why in God's name

is this happening?!

He fucked my wife, Ari.

He did not!

You... You did?

You fucked his wife?

- As you?
- What?

Did you pretend to be him?

Or did she actually fuck you
thinking you were you?

- You think this is funny?
- No! I think it's disgusting.

I'm just... I'm trying to figure out

why she did that.

I mean, if I were to cheat on my wife

it would be with like a,
you know, busty blonde

or an Asian with pointy nipples.

But an exact fucking replica...

Stop, Ari. Ari, we get it, okay?

We're sorry and we will work it out.

- There's nothing to work out.
- See what I'm dealing with?

- You see this?
- Shut up, shut up. Lloyd!

- Accounting just brought this up.
- All right.

Look, as repulsed as I am

by the fact that you fucked
your twin brother's wife,

it's not my problem.

Fucking your coworker's wife...

That is.

But now I've got a bigger problem.

- Please tell me that you are Jeff.
- I'm Jim.

How can anyone tell you two apart?

- I wear a Windsor knot.
- What does it matter?!

Jeff...

has outearned you...

significantly
for the past three years.

- So you won't fire him?
- Buddy, listen to me.

I run a business here, not the U.N.

Clearly, you two will never be
able to work together again.

So, what? You're gonna fire me?

You're leaving me no choice.

You know what? Fuck you!

And fuck you!

Hey, you did what you had to do.

- It's about the numbers...
- Get out of my face.

Go back to work. You make me sick.

Lloyd!

The curse of the multiples is over.

Please, Gary, do you
have to throw it at me?

Hey, you want him in close,
working you over with brushes?

We'll get to the details later.

Keep your eyes straight,
please. Don't look at the paint.

The paint will be on you soon.

- Looking good, Johnny.
Whee! Wha!

Whoa! I just talked to the store,

E will have the desk this afternoon.

- Whoa!
- Yeah, great. Well, he better love it

or you're paying for my therapy.

Therapy will let you down.

This...

is your therapy.

What do you mean
you need confirmation?

You are the confirmation.

Well, you need to tell Mr. Chase
that the Screen Actor's Guild

requires him to update his forms.

Update his forms?

He doesn't open his mail!

Sir, please calm down.

You know what? Forget it.
I'll call back.

- Hello?
- Please tell me you're not the idiot

that's been calling "Variety"
trying to take out an ad.

This isn't happening.

Do you really think if someone

calls the press
and throws Vince's name around

- I'm not gonna hear about it?
I'm not trying to keep it a secret.

I'm just trying to get
my name out there a little bit.

By taking out an ad?

Who are you,
the fucking Roto-Rooter man?

You want your name
out there, you call me.

All right, Shauna.
Now that I have you on the phone,

I'd like my name out there a little bit.

- Ask me nicely.
- Shauna...

Go to "Variety," E. Ask for
Jackie Stone. She'll be there till 4:00.

She'll do a press release on you,

ask you a couple of questions,

write a few sentences.
Will take you 20 minutes tops

and it won't cost you a dime.

- Wow. Thanks, Shauna.
- Where's my fucking kid?

He threw up on me.

Oh, relax, Christy.

I'm sure he's not
the first guy to puke on you.

- It's time, Ari! It's time!
- Calm, Lloyd.

Miss Mary J. Blige
just got off the elevator.

- Be cool, Lloyd, be cool.
- I can't be cool.

Oh! Feel my beating heart.

She's a chick, Lloyd.
There may be hope for you yet.

Hey.
- ARl: There she is.

- How are you?
- Good, how are you?

- I'm great.
- You look stunning.

Thank you.
You pick out that suit just for me?

Actually, my wife did. You like?

You smell nice.

- Everyone, this is Miss Mary J. Blige!
Hey! Thank you.

I'm excited to be here.

- Thank you.
- ARl: Let's get started.

Let's do it.

Ari, where's Jim?

Hey, fellas. We just got the message.

What's the problem?

This thing will never
get up to that office.

No way. The stairwell is too narrow
and it won't fit in the elevator.

You can't just jack it up
through the window?

Turtle, we couldn't fit
you through that window.

What are you, a smurf?

That's funny, wiseass.

I thought so.

Sorry, Vince. It's a one-piece desk.

The only way you getting
that bad boy up there

is if you cut a hole in the
roof and helicopter it in.

How much would that cost?

It's a joke, smurf.

- Any other suggestions?
- Yeah.

Return the desk
and get your money back.

Man, it's too nice
for this shithole, anyway.

So you haven't
had an office until now?

Well, I really haven't needed one.

I mean, we've had so much
space at Vince's house,

but now we're all living
in a small condo, so...

- You guys live together?
- Yeah.

I mean, but it's not like that.
We've been friends since we were kids.

We're like brothers. Probably don't need
to write that down though.

Oh no, it's an interesting story.

Maybe we could do
something bigger...

A little profile.
Do you have time for a photo?

Yeah, sure.

I didn't even know that you knew Jim.

I know all my people, Ari.
And Jim's really sweet.

Did you know he sends

a personal handwritten note
out with every script?

I did not know that, no.

It's a nice touch.

Hmm. You know what?

We're gonna get Jeff
calligraphy lessons

and now he's gonna be
the one that's sweet to you.

No, please. Keep Jeff away from me.

He's weird
and he's always staring at my ass.

Jeff? No, he has a lazy eye.

That's probably
what you're seeing.

Either way, I like Jim.

- Did you really have to fire him?
- Unfortunately, I did, yeah.

- Why? What happened?
- Uh, you, uh...

The less you know,
the better, believe me.

If I were to tell you all the
details, it would sicken you.

- Sounds bad.
- It is, it is.

Believe me, I take no great pleasure

in firing anyone,
but... especially someone

that's had such
a positive impact on you.

Anyway, Ari, thank you.

- Good stuff in there today.
- Yes, you too...

- Oh, hey, Mary J.
- Hey, Jim, how you doing?

- Let's go back to the office.
- Wait wait wait. No no no no!

- Did he tell you that he fired me?
- Listen, hey,

you don't have to air out
your dirty laundry here.

Oh, would that be
the "my-brother-fucks-my-wife-

he-earns-more-for-you-
you-fire-me"

dirty laundry, asshole?

One love, Mary.

You're an animal, Ari.

- Did you see M.J. Off?
- I saw her off, all right, Lloyd.

Off to I.C.M.

- Jeff!
- Hey, Ari, you got it right.

What the hell?

How can one embryo
produce two fucking losers?

- Ari, what's the problem?
- The problem is...

you're a disgusting mutant.

Now go reconjoin with your brother

on the unemployment line!

I don't know what you're
freaking out about, E.

I went in there
to write a few sentences,

and they ambushed me
with a whole expose

I wasn't ready for it.
Hit "refresh," Turtle.

Nothing.

Well, the new "Variety"
comes up at 10:00 p. m.

Yeah, well,
it's 9:59 and it's not up yet.

- Hit "refresh. "
- Relax, E.

It's just a little press.

It's his first real press, he's nervous.

Yeah, I remember my first piece of
press... "Back Stage West. "

I couldn't
get an audition to save my life

until my groundbreaking
role as Lennie.

Headline on page 14 read

"Of Mice and the Man
Known as Johnny Chase. "

Did they dub you "Candlelight Dinner
Theater's Biggest and Best Retard"?

"Refresh," Turtle.

- Whoa, it's up.
- Huh.

They got a picture, E.

- Good photo.
- You look cute.

What's the headline say?

"The New Nepotism in Hollywood. "

Oh, Jesus Christ. You know, I knew it!

I knew it!
I'm so... I'm so pissed right now.

- Sorry, E.
- What's wrong with nepotism?

Hey, Vince, are you coming?

Who's that?

"A new trend is infiltrating

the already-impenetrable
popular table of Hollywood. "

- You already read this.
- Well, it sounds worse on real paper.

Now the whole city's reading it.

"Eric Murphy has paved the way
for those like Casey Cobb,

childhood friend of Jessica Simpson,

to come and surf
the wave of celebrity

in hopes of becoming
a permanent fixture

in the business of the business. "

You're paving the way, that's a plus.

- Who cares, E, huh?
- Yeah, who cares?

No press is bad press.

- Where are we going?
- To cheer you up.

I just want to
get back in the office,

figure out a way
to repair the damage.

You're gonna need a new desk

to repair the damages.
We got you a new desk.

- You got me a desk?
Uh-huh.

This is it.

- Wow.
You like?

Yeah, I love it.
It's never gonna fit in my office.

Actually, E, it already does.

- Huh?
- This is your office, E.

- And that's mine over there.
- And mine's over there.

And I got one
too, just in case we miss you.

We can all hang.
- Building a sick lounge out there

- with a huge, huge plasma.
- How much was this place, Vince?

E, you can't put a price on comfort.

Just enjoy it.

Thanks, Vince.
Now I feel really worthless.

- Hello.
Hello, Eric Murphy?

Speaking.

Hey, Peter Jackson
calling from New Zealand.

Hi. Thanks for getting back to me.

Would have called you yesterday,

but no one down here
knew who the hell you were.

Eric Murphy... Now you're not
related to Eddie by any chance?

- Well, I'm not.
- Just a little wind-up, mate.

Look, I saw the "Variety" article.

- Yeah?
- Hey, don't worry.

A little media bashing
every now and again

keeps us all honest.

But I'll tell you
something about Ari Gold:

There's only one thing
a cretin like that understands

and that's an airborne
telephone right between the eyes.

Anyway, it's good to know that those of us

that want to be
in the Vincent Chase business

have got a legitimate manager
to talk to.

Well, thank you.

So, look, I'm... I'm
actually kind of busy.

So what exactly do you want?

I wanted to talk to you
about your gaming company.

Well, I'm actually gonna
be in the States next week.

So why don't we do this:

Why don't we have your
assistant call my assistant

and then decide what to do from there?

- How does that sound?
- Great.

- Thank you.
- Cheers.

- What was that?
- I think I'm gonna need an assistant.