Nip/Tuck (2003–2010): Season 6, Episode 12 - Willow Banks - full transcript

I woke up, I didn't
know where I was.

Didn't know who I was.

Couldn't believe I'd slept
through most of my life.

I'd been unconscious
for 22 years.

It was 1989. I was 18.

And the accident happened at
a construction site, is that right?

Yes. It was a summer job. I
was installing a church steeple.

A crane collapsed. I don't
even remember it hitting me.

One second it was a beautiful
day, the next, pfft, lights out.

And what exactly is it
that brought you here?

What don't you
like about yourself?



Jesus, man, look
at me. I'm ancient.

Even though my body was alive
for 40 years, I was only awake for 18.

And you wanna look
like an 18-year-old again.

I am an 18-year-old.

I had plans before I went in the
coma. I was gonna go to college.

I was gonna meet a girl,
have a family, have a career.

- Mr. Kenney...
- See? That's...

I'm a "Mister."
I'm a "Mister" now.

I look in the mirror and I see
this old man looking back at me...

and I'm like, "Who are you?
How...? Who put me in your body?"

I need you to make the
outside match the inside.

You can give me a chance to
live all those years that I lost...

for the first time fully awake.

You can give me back my life.



- Why aren't you getting ready?
- Ready for what?

I have a meet and greet at the
Pacific Design Center tonight.

I told you this a week
ago. You don't remember?

Christian, this is really important.
I need to make contacts tonight.

And I had all of these
business cards made.

"Over 15 years’
experience." In what?

Well, I had a life
before you and I met.

- I designed all my own movie sets.
- Oh, okay.

Well, you haven't exactly
thanked me for what I've done here.

Can't imagine how
that slipped my mind.

Look, I know it takes a
little bit of getting used to...

but in the over-crowded markets in
L.A., you need to make bold style choices.

And speaking of style, could you please
get up off the couch and go get dressed?

This is the third time you
tried to drag me out this week.

I didn't get married so
you could get me in a suit...

and have me rub elbows
with the great unwashed.

Give me that.

Look, I got the house,
the job, the beautiful wife.

Just let me relax
and enjoy my life.

Okay.

Awesome ball game last
night. You get to catch it?

- That's you?
- Huh?

You stink.

- And you look like shit.
- Thank you.

You know how long it took
me to get ready this morning?

Three minutes. Got to catch Sports
Center for the first time in months...

didn't cut myself shaving, didn't have
to swing by the dry-cleaner's on my way.

Yeah, maybe you should have.

I am done getting up at 6 every day,
getting ready for work, shower, shave.

Do the hair, press the suit.
All that bullshit's hard on a man.

Why you looking at that thing?

Trying to find a bed. I only have
a mattress on the floor right now.

A man over 30 should never buy
anything that he has to put together...

particularly from the Swedes.

Julia used to buy our furniture.

Never really had to do this before.
Never had my own place until now.

Call my wife. She, apparently,
is an interior designer now.

- Kimber?
- Matter of fact...

you'd be doing me a huge favor.
She's been a real pain in the ass.

Do you mind giving
her a buzz? Huh?

Excuse me. I've been waiting for
a half hour. Should I reschedule?

I told you already, we'll be
with you as soon as we can.

- Hi.
- Hi.

- Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss...?
- Banks.

- Banks.
- Willow Banks.

Willow Banks. Wow,
beautiful. Dr. Christian Troy.

You're a model?

- I was.
- Great.

I'd like to apologize for the
receptionist. She can be a real bitch.

- Dr. Troy...
- Do it again, you're fired.

- Shall we?
- Yeah.

Please don't fire her on my account.
Women always seem to treat me like that.

Maybe I'll give her a raise.

Maybe I should bang the shit
out of you right here on this desk.

Dr. Troy?

Dr. Troy? Excuse me.

Yes. So...

What can I do for
you, Miss Banks?

I'd ask you what you don't like about
yourself but you look pretty good to me.

- Well, that's exactly the problem.
- Right.

I'm tired of all the attention I
get because of the way I look.

I'm tired of every guy I meet either
being too intimidated to talk to me...

or think that he can just
stroll up and ask me out.

I can't tell you how many times a
guy has tried some cheesy pickup line...

or howled like a dog
as I've walked by.

Is it too much to ask for
just a little conversation...

before telling me that
you're envisioning me naked?

And I'm tired of not having any girlfriends
because they think I make them look bad.

I just... I can't be
perfect anymore.

- I wanna be un-perfect.
- Un-perfect?

Yeah.

Well, that's the stupidest
thing I ever heard.

People come in every day
asking for what you have.

- They want your face.
- Well, I don't. Not any longer.

It's just too much pressure, Dr. Troy.
I feel like I'm on-stage all the time.

I even quit modeling
and that hasn't helped.

For once in my life, I just wanna be able
to walk down the street and be ignored.

I wanna be normal
looking. I wanna be average.

What about putting on a couple pounds?
A double cheeseburger, something like that.

- I don't eat red meats.
- Ice cream.

- I'm lactose intolerant.
- Jesus.

You know what I'm talking about.
Just take worse care of yourself.

- Like some nuts?
- No, thanks.

Come on, you might enjoy it.

Look, I said I wanted to be
unbeautiful, not unhealthy.

- Okay.
- I have tried to make superficial changes.

I'm not wearing any makeup. I
haven't washed my hair in like a week.

I mean, look at what I'm
wearing, for chrissakes.

And still, your parking valet
gave me his phone number.

Well, you'll just have to try a little
harder, because looking the way you look...

I would never touch you with a scalpel.
And good luck finding a doctor who would.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Whoa, hello.

- Do you want me to come back?
- No, no, no. Come in.

- Sure?
- I just got a little carried away.

- Working out?
- Yeah.

It's kind of a metaphor
for my life these days.

- You want some water?
- No, thanks. I'm good.

I just keep running and running
without a clue where I'm going.

Well, at least you care about
your health and your body.

Christian's at home lying on the
couch, drinking beer like a fat slob.

He says he's given up.

Maybe that's his way
of saying he's happy.

Or maybe it's his way of telling
me he doesn't care what I think.

Well, he is proud
of you, Kimber.

I suppose.

Well, okay, I hope you like what
I've put together. Do you mind?

- No, no. Yeah. Yeah.
- Yeah?

First one.

Ah. Now, see, this is a little more
Christian than me. Don't you think?

All right.

Well, what are your tastes?

Like, how would you
describe Sean McNamara?

Well, how would I
know? I'm just a doctor.

You're more than that.

What about, like, an artsy,
intellectual, mid-century type of guy?

- No.
- No?

Okay.

Or you could do kind of a homey,
kick-back, country-French look.

Do I need to go to therapy just to
get some furniture for this place?

You know, that's
why I hired you.

No. It's just...

In design school, they really
emphasize on listening to the client.

You know, like your
likes, dislikes, colors.

Yeah, well, this particular
client has no self.

It seems he's arrived at his 45th year
with no opinions or tastes of his own.

He spent too much time
in everyone else's shadow.

Kimber, just do your thing.
You know, whatever you think.

Let your imagination go.
You have my permission.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Okay. Well, I think I
can do something in here.

Thank you.

I promise you, I'm going to blow
you away with this place, okay?

I have total faith in you.

- Thanks. I'll see you later.
- Okay.

- Bye.
- Bye.

- See you.
- See you.

This guy really is a miracle.
- Oh, absolutely.

Ninety-nine percent of comas that last
more than three years are permanent.

No, I mean, because he
can steal $40,000 from us...

just lying on this
table, it's miraculous.

This is not a typical
pro-bono case.

The wear and tear on his face...

is completely out of the norm
because of his prone position.

Okay, we're doing a rhytidectomy
with an SMAS plication.

You're right. We can now corner
the market on Rip Van Winkles.

Very impressive.

We have a lot of new expenses.
I was just trying to be responsible.

At this point in my life...

I'm not compromising on work I
find interesting and rewarding...

so you can have new toys.

I don't know why you're worried about
money. I just got Kimber's first bill.

Unlike Mr. Kenney, you're
not a charity case, okay?

Did you think she was
gonna work for free?

There's a difference between
pro bono and bleeding me dry.

I'm her first client and I only
hired her as a favor to you.

If I had known you'd be
such a pain in the ass...

I never would have
suggested it in the first place.

You know what, why
don't you just leave?

Huh?

I'd like to finish on my own.

Are you serious? SEAN:
I'm tired of the witty banter...

the back-and-forth, and you telling me all
the ways I'm making your life difficult.

If you don't mind, I'd like to spend
some time focusing on my work.

Are you serious? - Yes.

Fine.

Jesus. KIMBER: No, wait
a second. Don't push it.

It's gonna get dirty.

Don't tell me you're
redoing the living room again.

No, this is for Sean. I have
to go there later and finish.

Well, I thought we were gonna stay
home and watch some television together.

Honey, I told you I
have a client deadline.

"Client." He's not
a client, he's Sean.

Only reason he gave you the job was
because I asked him to in the first place.

Well, that's not
what he told me.

Okay.

Damn it, I can't
find the swatches.

Christian, why do you have
to ruin everything for me?

Look, I told Sean to call you before
you got booked up. That's all, all right?

This is what I was
worried about, by the way.

I mean, you working again was supposed
to make you feel happy, not miserable.

Now you're feeling miserable,
then I feel miserable, and...

It's not good.

Maybe we should spend more
time together or something.

Yeah, how we gonna spend time together
with that giant gut of yours in between us?

What?

- I don't have a gut.
- And that stubble you've got going on.

Do you think I like that
rubbing in between my legs?

- I thought you liked the beard.
- I'm not talking about your beard.

I'm talking about your balls.
You used to shave them for me.

Now I'm lucky...

if you even run a comb through
your hair before you leave the house.

This whole new Christian
look isn't exactly working for me.

So maybe if you could rediscover a
brush, or, I don't know, maybe a razor.

Until then, you're not
doing me either. Okay?

Oh, don't wait up for me,
because I'm gonna be late.

- You look good.
- Hey.

Sorry, I, uh...

Linda gave me this. And I used
to think the Walkman was cool.

Have a seat. Just
want a last little look.

Send you on your way
with a clean bill of health.

My mom started crying.

She said looking at me made
her feel 20 years younger.

Well, I don't know about 20.

We definitely
chopped off at least 10.

So, what's next on your agenda?

It's all pretty weird, you know?

All my friends have grown
and have families and careers.

And a lot of them
have moved away.

So I really wanna meet
someone my own age.

Early 20's maybe. I
don't wanna aim too high.

I figured I'd go to the clubs...

and see if I was any better
of a dancer than I used to be.

- Any suggestions?
- No, not really.

I travel in a
slightly older circle.

- Best of luck though.
- Thank you.

I feel like a freak.

I have no idea
what girls like today.

You know, texting,
cell phones, Google.

It's all pretty nerve-racking.

It's kind of like riding a
bike. I'm sure you'll be fine.

Except I've never
ridden a bike, so to speak.

- So you're...?
- Yeah, I'm a 40-year-old virgin.

Could have been worse,
could have died one.

I know a place that you might like.
They even let old guys like me in.

Oh, hi.

- Hi.
- Um...

Did you come find me to tell me that
you changed your mind about my surgery?

No, actually, I came to change
your mind about the surgery.

That won't happen.

I already have two more appointments
with plastic surgeons next week, Dr. Troy.

You can call me Christian.

I'm not here as your doctor.

You do like wine, don't you?

- Yeah.
- Yeah? Well, this is a...

Really nice. Goes perfectly
with the Colonel's special recipe.

- I've already eaten. But thank you.
- Oh, okay. Well, that's more for me.

- What are you doing?
- Huh?

It's Saturday night.

- How do you know I'm not going out?
- You don't like aggressive men.

And there's more aggressive
and drunk men out on a Saturday...

than any other night of the week.
So why don't you do us a favor?

Quit your yapping, grab a couple
of glasses and a corkscrew...

and sit your little ass
down on the couch.

It seems like I don't have to go
out to find an aggressive man.

Okay. Come to papa.

I don't think I've had fried chicken
since I was in, like, high school.

At least you're removing the
skin. That's where all the fat is.

That's where all the taste is.

Okay.

Mmm. Wow.

You sure you don't
wanna try some of this?

Yeah. No.

Okay. Give me one of those.

Mm-hm.

This new music's
pretty cool. Who is this?

To tell you the truth...

I think the last time I brought
a CD, you were still awake.

I'm mostly into pop
music from the late '80s.

You know, Phil Collins, Richard
Marx. There was an innocence to it.

It sucked.

The girls dress a lot
better now though.

Yeah.

You woke up at
just the right time.

This is the slut generation.

Most of these girls, their role models
are famous for having sex tapes.

My partner's really the
expert in these places.

Well, what would he do now?

Hi.

I'm Dr. Sean McNamara.
I'm a plastic surgeon.

Are you guys narcs?

- What do we do now?
- Now we get drunk.

Tequila. The best you have.

Tomorrow, I'm introducing you to a
triple-stuffed burrito with sour cream.

I think we should buy a
KFC franchise together.

Settle down somewhere like
Fresno and never be heard from again.

Sounds good.

Fat and happy ever after.

Fat and happy and ugly.

Hey. Wait a second.
I have an idea.

You'd better not be puking
your guts out in there.

You don't have
anything sweet, do you?

- So, what do you think?
- Hm?

Holy shit.

I can't believe I
did it. But I did it.

It worked.

I'm ugly, right?

You're, um...

impulsive.

Which is very hot.

This place is awesome.

Hey, how's it going?

Hey.

I gotta... I gotta
get out of here.

You stay. I'm gonna go.

What the hell?

- Oh, hey.
- Oh, I didn't know you'd still be here.

It took a lot longer than
I thought it was going to.

Actually, the movers just left.

So, what do you think?

Oh, you hate it. Oh...

This is how you see me?

Well, old-fashioned gentleman
with a hint of old-world glamour. Yeah.

Yeah. Old-fashioned, old-world.
"Old" pretty much says it, right?

Sean.

Think of Clark Gable
or Rudolph Valentino.

If those guys had a bachelor pad,
they'd totally decorate it like this.

All right, you hate it.

I'm sorry if it's not
what you wanted.

I just wanted to
make you feel special.

Kimber...

I'm so caught up in
myself, I wasn't thinking.

You know, now that I'm really
looking at it, it is pretty great.

You got me. Or
somebody I'd like to be.

- No, you're just saying that.
- No, no, no.

It's completely different from
anything I could have imagined...

but strangely right.

I think I'll like
coming home to this.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

Oh, that's great.
Oh, Sean, thank you.

My God, you have no idea
how hard I have worked on this.

You are talented, Kimber.

Well, tell that to Christian. He
hates the way I redid the house.

- Or "our house." Whatever.
- Well, he can be tough.

I'm terrified of making mistakes, right?
Like, I completely lose my instincts.

I don't know who he is,
I don't know who I am...

or us as a couple.
It's just so frustrating.

But thanks for being sweet
and making me feel confident.

Doesn't take much. A
little sunshine, a little water.

Look what you did.

Well...

Um...

You know, I did the library back there and
it has this beautiful dark carved wood...

Show me the bedroom first.

I came here to tell you
that we can't do this again.

Oh, yeah, we can't do
this anymore, you're right.

I mean, like, we're bad.
Like, this is really bad.

I know, we're the worst.
How come I don't feel guilty?

Oh...

Wait. Is that him?
Is that Christian?

Yeah. We're only
separated by this wall.

I like it.

Not even fast food?

- You gotta eat.
- I need to go to surgery.

I'll have you back in a flash.

- In a flash?
- Mm-hm.

Come on. A big old burrito smothered
in guacamole and sour cream.

- Okay.
- Yeah?

Pull the car around front
and I'll meet you downstairs.

Sean, who the hell
you banging in there?

- Oh, just your wife, sweetheart.
- Hey, what's up?

What the hell you doing here?

She's doing a good
job on the apartment...

I wanted to ask her advice on
a new desk. I'm tired of glass.

I wanna warm it up in here.

- Why is it locked?
- Um...

Oh, I had just mentioned to Sean about
the new brushed-nickel door hardware...

so I must have just,
you know, hit the button.

Brushed nickel?

Look, no changes
without me, okay?

I gotta go take care of something
I forgot to take care of before.

If I'm not back in time, just start
surgery without me, okay? Ahem.

"No changes without my okay."
What kind of ego trip is he on?

Well, it's always gotta be the
Christian Troy show, even my office.

You were very cool, my dear.

- Well, it's all my years of acting.
- Yes.

Okay. So, Sean, um, I'll get you
some tear sheets on the wood desks.

For this stuff, you
need to BYOB.

- I don't drink beer, remember?
- Mm.

I mean, bring your own Beano.

Eating like a pig is one thing,
smelling like them is another.

- Stinky women are a real turnoff.
- I'll keep that in mind.

All right. We got
everything here.

When do you have
to be back at work?

Whenever. It's not like my
partner has anywhere else to go.

Then let's hit a matinee.

We'll waste the whole afternoon.

Movie theaters are one of the
only places I can really relax.

Because you sit in the dark
and nobody bothers you?

Maybe.

Or maybe I just like Jujyfruits.

Alien Nation.

Hey, have a little
respect, buddy boy.

Whoa!

Go, go.

You messed up my car.

You know, you can slow down now.

I can't do anything to change
myself. I'm so sick of this face.

Jesus. What are you
doing, you crazy bitch?

If you wanna kill yourself,
fine. Just let me out of the car.

I'm sorry, Christian, but it's
the only thing left for me to do.

Stop the car. Please,
stop the car. Jesus. Jesus.

The guys at the ER were
all awesome, by the way.

She's lucky she's alive.

That crazy bitch.

- You're driving me batshit, Sean.
- Don't move.

Jesus, it's like waiting to get a shot.
The anticipation is worse than the needle.

Just go ahead and say it, all right? I
think with my dick. I am a dick. I accept.

It's none of my business.

Since when is me screwing up none
of your business? You thrive on it.

That should heal without a scar.

I know you, you can
pretend you don't care...

but I know you do.

That may have been true once.

Come on, you can't tell me you
don't wanna know what happened.

I think I'll leave that
for Kimber to ask.

She's your wife, she's the
one who might be curious.

She's the one who pushed
me out the goddamn door.

So tell me...

is there anything about
me that you still like?

I don't think so.

You're a self-righteous
little prick, you know that?

Did it occur to you that maybe it's
you who needs me to be angry at you?

Frankly, it never
occurred to me.

Good, because I'm done being
a substitute for your conscience.

I know you can't change.

So we met at the club.

It was love at first sight. But
then when he told me his story...

Imagine how much fun it will be to
teach him about the last 20 years.

Obama and
Britney, all that stuff.

Well, I don't
understand, Rupert.

You don't need my
consent to have a girlfriend.

- Fiancée, we're engaged.
- Well, engaged to be engaged.

I wanna get McKenzie
breast implants.

A diamond is more traditional.

My right one's a little smaller and it
sort of has that pancake thing going on.

It's been a struggle
her whole life.

Rupert, can I speak to
you alone for a moment?

- She's awesome, isn't she?
- She's using you.

Dude, you're wrong. We've been doing
it nonstop for like two days straight.

Sex is not love, okay? It's usually
not even an expression of love.

Sometimes women and men use
it for less-than-innocent purposes.

You're just a kid. You've
been asleep for 20 years.

- You don't understand how women work.
- You do?

I saw your moves on the
dance floor. Pretty mediocre.

- I was married for 20 years.
- How'd that turn out?

I've slept with plenty of women.

The good ones don't ask you to
buy them new breasts on the first date.

Thank you for caring,
but I am gonna do this.

So do you want my
business or what?

Okay. I'll just go get a couple of
samples. I assume she wants D's?

- Yeah, how'd you know that?
- They always want D's.

Something's wrong. I
didn't touch him, I swear.

I just wanted new
tits. I didn't touch him.

He slipped back into a coma.

Well, when is he gonna wake up?

Oh, my God. Baby,
what happened to you?

- Your face.
- I'm fine.

- Your arm.
- I'm fine, seriously.

It's just a few scrapes.
I was in an accident.

I tried calling you.

- You didn't pick up your phone.
- I'm sorry...

Why didn't you pick up your phone?
You always pick up when I call.

I'm sorry, I don't...

- You're ignoring me?
- No.

I get it.

I've been such
an asshole lately.

Especially with
your thing with Sean.

What thing with Sean?

Huh.

He's your first
real client and I...

I should...

I should be supporting you
and I'm not. I'm sorry. I just...

- You don't have to apologize.
- No, I do. I'm sorry, okay?

- Well...
- Please.

Okay. Where's your
car? Is it totaled?

No, it wasn't my car. I was a
passenger in somebody else's car.

Well, are they okay? Who was it?

They're fine. I mean,
I think, you know.

It was a client, Willow Banks.

- The model?
- Yeah.

Yeah.

You were in a car with
Willow Banks during the day...

- Yeah.
- When you're supposed to be at work?

Mm-hm.

Good news is I didn't
have any lunch...

so I think I lost
about 5 pounds.

Phew.

Maybe I should go take a shower.

Maybe you should
make it a cold one.

I guess it worked
after all, huh?

I wanted people to stop looking.

And now if they do, they
turn away, just like you did...

with their eyes full
of pity and disgust.

They still don't see me.

Well, I guess going
through a windshield...

at 110 miles an hour was the
answer all along. Who knew?

I need to talk to you.

Please.

My parents sent me to this
exclusive all-girls prep school.

The rich kids would always dress
like they were poor. Slumming it.

It was fun for them, you know?

Cool to reject the values
you'd grown up with.

- Are you coming to a point anytime soon?
- When you have money...

it's easy to romanticize
not having any.

And when you're beautiful, well,
it's easy wanting to give that up too.

The romance of ugliness.

All I wanted was to know that
when someone looked at me...

they were actually seeing me.

Not just some image they
could place on their mantelpiece...

or show off to their friends,
or brag about having screwed.

You need to get help, Willow.

Serious help. I told you that.

- I'm not the one you should be coming to.
- But you understand me.

- You're just like me.
- Bullshit.

I'm not trying to carve out my
face or endanger other people.

Then why were you with me, huh?
You wanted to destroy yourself too.

In your own little passive-aggressive
way, because you're pissed.

You know that all the
success you've ever had...

wasn't because of what
you did or who you were.

It's always been
about the way you look.

Just make me beautiful again.

Fix me. Give it back to me.

I can't live looking like this.

Willow, you need to listen to
me, there is no doctor alive...

who can make
you beautiful again.

- Where's my treadmill?
- I had it moved to the Malibu house.

Your apartment's
too small for it.

And I was hoping
Christian might take a hint.

I gotta get going.

No, no, no, just go
back to sleep, come on.

- Christian's gonna start to worry.
- No, he won't.

Just a few more minutes.

Okay.

Will you wake me
up in 15 minutes?

Promise me you're
not gonna fall asleep.

Don't worry, I'm wide awake.