United States of Tara (2009–2011): Season 3, Episode 7 - The Electrifying & Magnanimous Return of Beaverlamp - full transcript

Tara is shocked when Dr. Hattaras, going through a personal crisis of his own, tells her that he's ending their collaboration. Once again, Tara is trying to arrange Charmaine's baby shower despite the disastrous first attempt. She's also encouraged Max to get his college era rock band together for a reunion on the same night so everyone seems ready to party. An outing to a corn field maze however proves terrifying for one of Tara's alters and may have created another. Marshall is thrilled that his film has been accepted for the film festival in New York City but disappointed that Noah won't be able to join him. Kate meanwhile finally breaks the ice with Evan.

Previously on
"United States of Tara"...

Read this book. It's about
a patient who I helped.

That boy stopped thinking
he was a kite

when I convinced him
he wasn't a kite.

It's not the same.
I'm not a kite.

You know what also you're not?
You're not seven people.

The shower is on Sunday.
You promised.

"Oh, my God.
I fucked up your wedding.

Let me make it up to you" --
That's what she said.

If we need money so bad,
get a job.

My brother says
the sooner I start,



the sooner I'll be back.

Just come back to us, okay?

...Who can do a tiny favor
for me in Tulsa.

I'm Evan.
I know Tulsa.

Oh, you're the guy.

Would you be interested

in having
some pretty good fried chicken

and/or bad sushi with me?

That's -- that's sweet, Kate.
I-I just -- I can't.

What's Beaverlamp?

Your father's
rock-'n'-roll band.

Average beer band.

Weird name.

Go get one.
Okay, so I...



Didn't...realize you had company.

It's a movie
about your family, right?

We need the personal.

I know what it is.

It's not a monster movie.

It's not
a dysfunctional family.

It's a love story.

You're not Tara
anymore, are you?

You will not win.

Say that again.

You will not win.

Sync by honeybunny
www.addic7ed.com

It's completely true.

My sciatic pain is gone,
my core is stronger,

even my bowels
are just --

Mom!
Eww! Tara!

What? I'm just saying --
Yoga works.

Is that steak?
Mm-hmm. Omega-3s.

Mood-boosters
for you sad sacks.

Look at you!

It's like someone stole
the cream from your ho hos.

Well, last I checked,

your partner didn't take a job
out of state

and leave you at home
with a wailing infant.

Where is said infant?

Oh, shit.

Wow.

How about you, Kate?

Still mooning
over Evan the commuter?

Oh, I can't help it.

He's just immune to my charms.

I'm like, "how?"

Maybe he's running guns
for the Finnish mafia.

Can't get involved.

Yeah, or maybe
he's allergic to desperation.

Aw. Look who just got off
the shuttle bus from Jerksville.

Sorry. No sleep.
I was up editing.

Oh, how's your film going?

In my head,
it's unique, nuanced,

but when it comes out,
it's like...

A frog doing somersaults
on a field,

and you can't see the frog
'cause he's too green

and you can't hear him
'cause the grass is too soft.

Don't stress, baby.

These things find
their own way somehow.

Mmm, yeah.

Well, hello, there, cheerful.

That is more like it!

Eww.

Oh, dudes!

I got a lot
to be cheerful about.

I got a red-hot sexy mama
in my kitchen

making me a chow-down,

a couple clicks away
from my 30th birthday party --

Huh? My job
uses negative-5% of my brain.

And I recently rediscovered
Chastity Stargazer.

Who?

My vintage Fender Stratocaster
electric guitar.

Hey, I was thinking --

Instead of
doing your party here,

why don't we rent
that place on Metcalf

where we used to get shit-faced
and watch minor-league hockey?

And you could get Beaverlamp
back together

for a little reunion gig!

Horrible idea.

Yeah, completely.
I love it.

Yeah!

I don't need
a do-over shower or anything.

Let's throw Chastity Stargazer
a party.

Okay, it can be a double party.

Baby shower in the afternoon,
birthday boozefest at night.

Whoo-hoo!

Haul your mambo into the mini,
sister. We're late.

Oh, shit.
Here, take this.

Okay, well, I'll see you guys
on the flippity-flop.

'Kay. Who's that?

Oh, that was college Tara.

Yeah! She's back.

Spicy, sweet, tangy, tart.

Ah!

Wonderful.

All right, Kansas,
you win this one.

Have I missed an appointment?

No -- tomorrow.

I just wanted to say hi...

And talk to you
about the "B-minus" you gave me.

Oh, yeah -- "B-minus."

Your essay on schizophrenia
was abysmal.

But maybe
you missed that lecture

when you were driving your car
into your pregnant sister.

Well, I've been acing
my other classes -- two A's,

plus, my etchings are on display
in the student lounge.

So, just...Thank you...

So much.

Mm. That's all right.

Um, tomorrow, I'm gonna
have to cancel -- bad timing.

No problem.
We can reschedule.

And the rescheduling --
got to cancel that, as well.

Very bad timing.

Wait -- you mean...
Like, forever?

Apologies.

It's been swell.

Is this some kind
of weird test, or...

Oh, Kyle, sweet!
You nailed it!

Oh, that was heavy.

We had something there, right?

Yeah.
I mean, come on.

Let's grease her up,
see if she'll still shimmy.

Well, I haven't played out
since my colon cancer.

I'm self-conscious
about the colostomy bag.

You just wear your strap
up higher. No biggie.

I called some of the guys.

I mean, come on, Kyle.
What's it gonna take?

What are we,
a couple senior citizens?

New brick inlay in my patio.

Dude.

Or a couple more beers.
My man.

Yeah! Beaverlamp!

Yeah.

And that...

Is how you dine on the vagine.

I was not expecting that.

Should we be watching these?

Probably not.

The film-festival judges
are gonna eat this shit up.

The fucked-up-family
narrative --

It's like their token genre.

I don't think
I want to use them.

Why not?

Mom at her freakiest --
center ring, once again.

Watch her struggle, America!

It's totally poignant.

This isn't a '70s
mental-illness docudrama.

Do we have
any footage of my dad?

College stuff and group scenes.

Why?

I don't know.

Maybe this movie
is really about him.

Max Gregson -- the man
who fell in love with that.

Uh, tantalizing treats
for discriminating palates?

I'd love a biscotti, please.

Here.

Uh...

I'm assuming you didn't hear

my request
for a dry Italian cookie --

Why did you turn me down
the her day?

I knew it.

Okay, I'm not
used to being rejected,

and apparently
I'm not very good at it,

but I'm pretty sure
that we have chemistry,

so what gives?

Okay.

Point -- Evan just got out
of a rocky marriage.

Point --
Evan has a child.

Point -- Evan lives
a trillion miles away.

Point -- Evan has crabs.

Evan doesn't have crabs.

That -- man,
that killed in my head.

"Pubic lice" are funnier.

Sorry about your wife.
Good luck with the kid.

Since when is having a child

a reason to not go on a date?!

A child?

Are we talking an adult decision
or teenage fuck-up?

Well, I don't know, because
I didn't even get that far.

Well, sweetheart, that is
a lot of baggage right there.

I mean,
you're too young and adorable

to get bogged down in that.

Why not leave some room
for the simple things in life,

like cooking and...
Being with family?

Ugh. College Tara is
much cornier than artist Tara.

Bean curd?
What are we making?

Miso tofu tacos
with ginger cilantro dressing.

We're "mexicasian" tonight.

Yay.

Hey, girls,
what's a better lyric --

♪ You took the breath
of my soul away ♪

Or...

♪ You took my breath,
and you flew away ♪

"Breath of my soul"?

Yeah, it's like
"Peter Gabriel meets Sting."

Must they meet?

Oh, Jesus, Tara!

Whoa! I forgot how to use
a knife for a second.

Uh, sweetheart, can you just
wash the blood off this for me?

Ew!
Thanks.

♪ Well, you can't get money
if you never get paid ♪

♪ whoo-ho ♪

♪ got a baby in a nappie
and another gettin' made ♪

♪ whoo-hoo! ♪

Um, so...

Why did you quit the band?

Oh, call it an extended hiatus.

I, um...

Well, your mom was having Kate.

Do you regret it?

Mm...

No.

No, I'd rather be a badass dad
than a half-assed guitarist.

And you kids turned out
pretty damn spectacular,

if I do say so myself.

When did you realize
mom was unstable?

Pbht.

College...I guess,
yeah.

So, then you had Kate?

Well, she wasn't
exactly planned.

Yeah.

A-and then you decided
to have another child?

Well, yeah, your mom
loved being pregnant, and...

Back then, kids came in pairs,
like slippers.

But she was sick.

Well, we didn't...really know

what was going on
with her back then.

So, why didn't you consider
how that would affect us?

Well, there's good and bad

with every choice in life,
Marsh.

W-were you
so freaked out,

you needed more of us
to help you cope or something?

You were the best
fuckin' decision we ever made,

and I'd do it again
in a second.

Interview over.

I got rehearsal.

You okay?

Yeah.

You sure?
'Cause you don't look so --

Could you, uh, maybe go home?

I don't need a caretaker.

Yeah.

She bled all over
the julienned root vegetables.

You were supposed to be
watching her.

Well, it wasn't my shift.

It was Buck's.

Well, someone has to tell
that peacock of a professor.

Severe-weather alert,
huh?

Think this jalopy
will take off?

Not a chance.

I hope you brought
tarmac activities.

Oh, I see
you're well-equipped.

Oh. Slim pickins
at the relay.

"A hilarious tale
of married life, toddlerhood,

and the perils of throwing
a fabulous surprise party" --

Mm. Wait.

"...On a budget."

Wow.

I'm sorry that I got
in your face before.

But it's not matrimony, dude.
It's a date.

Like humans do.

Yeah, and I'm sure a dozen men

on any number
of these commuter flights

would be
up for a superficial fling

with a young, cute stewardess.

I'm just not that guy.

"Flight attendant." And did you
just call me superficial?

No, I called the fling
superficial,

in spite
of what you're reading.

Hey! Foul!

We already established
this was a gag purchase.

Still, you bought it.

Well, I am not judging you

by your shitty polyester
carry-on, which is horrible,

and you should fork over
the scratch for a decent bag,

because that, my friend,
says "I loathe myself."

Oh.

This is Kate.

Fuck. Thanks.

Due to inclement
weather conditions,

Skykans Flight 35 from Tulsa to
Kansas City has been canceled.

Passengers can collect vouchers
for the nearby budget-stay

Bring hand sanitizer.

We're closed, Tara.

It's Buck, fucker.

You ain't ditchin'
that woman now.

Shit's goin' down
she don't even know about.

You must be that part of her
that shoots bullets into birds.

You think I'm fuckin' around?

I ain't fuckin' around.

What does
"you will not win" mean?

Who will not win?
Is that me or you?

Oh, shit.

I thought I could have
handled this on my own.

I'm swimming up
the wrong fuckin' stream.

I been looking,
but he's still out there.

I got to find him
before he finds her.

Got to record this.

Sorry.
Thought it was a pistol.

Okay.

Nice earrings, Buck.
Are they 22-karat?

Oh.

Awkward.

Who brought me here?

Oh -- Buck.
It was Buck.

I think
they're getting restless.

Feeling threatened, maybe?

The strangest thing
this morning --

I woke up to them talking --
to each other, not me.

That never happens.

I didn't quite catch
what they were saying, but --

It seems
I am unexpectedly consumed

with the business of defending
decades of psychiatric work.

C'est la vie.

And also...

Déjà vu.

I think we've done this before,
haven't we?

Good morning.

Hey, who wants to hear

a little "Ave Maria,"
downtown-style?

♪ Ave Maria ♪

♪ gratia tecum ♪

♪ domin-- ♪

Guys, come on.

We've been bullshitting
for two hours,

haven't played the song once.

It's not a quality tune, Max.

We wrote it in 30 minutes.

I so wanted to be a roadie
for the counting crows,

but I was in massage school.

And then I got mono, so...

Hey, babe,
can you help me a sec?

Yeah.

Come on.
10 minutes -- hard.

Streamers, salsa,

and, in keeping with
the double-thed party...

These little buggers
shall be filled with vodka.

"Come for the tots,
stay for the shots."

How goes it in there?

Like exhuming a corpse.

Amps are buzzing,
my song's terrible,

Ted won't quit messing around.

♪ Aaaaah! ♪

I just put myself
on suicide watch.

Well...

Oh, no!

Are you fucking kidding me?
You made that?

Yes!
That's repulsive.

I know! I love it!

It's gonna be fu-u-n!

Oh, and, uh...

Hattaras dumped me.

What?

W-why?

The boy
who thought he was a kite,

the one from Jack's book?

He, uh...

He jumped from a building
with a string tied to his ankle.

What?!

Mm.

I thought
Hattaras was --

So did he.

But I refuse
to freak out about it.

I'm doing
self-affirmations.

I'm not even his patient.

And...

I live in a reality where people
aren't objects, so...

Oh, God.

Let's not play "sick wife/
concerned husband," okay?

It bums me out.

Look, don't I have the right
just to be a little worried?

Baby, I'm good.

Believe it, please.

It makes me feel better
when you do.

♪ ...Et in hora
mortis nostrae! ♪

Too early?
No.

And so my dad storms off,
and I'm all quiet,

and...this...look...
creeps over his face.

And he's like,
"You okay?"

And I just --
I want to puke.

Did you?

No.

I made him leave.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Real answer or selfish one?

Either. Both.

Real...

You have intimacy issues.

You're terrified
of becoming your parents,

and those little
sweater vests you wear

are, like, your armor.

Thank you, Dr. Phil.

Roadside therapy.
Take it or leave it.

What's the selfish answer?

You won't let Noah in
because...

You're still in love with me.

I'll ignore that...crushing silence.

I don't want to talk.

Can we not talk?

Can you just fuck me?
Is that okay?

Lionel, don't.

News flash, asshole --
no one likes to be used.

I'm sorry, okay.
I-I'm sorry.

Fuck off.

Eww! Look at this!

Your room is so much grosser
than mine!

Oh, thanks.
Is this ketchup or blood?

It's blood.
It's definitely blood.

That's too dark for ketchup.

Oh, gross!

See?

You can go through
a horrifying divorce

and have a child
and still manage to have fun.

Okay. All right.

Yeah, well, I'm a little
gun-shy, I'll admit.

It's been a hell of a decade.

Ugh.
It's been that long?

Yeah.

She, uh,
she fell out of love with me --

Waited seven years
to break the news.

Sweet.

That sucks.

Well, I don't know, you know?

It's tough to have a
conversation with an empty bed.

Last year, I was home
a total of 87 days.

A couple of them
were actually consecutive.

What do you do, exactly?

Mm.

I, um, I buy land
from retired farmers,

and then I lease it to energy
companies for wind turbines.

That sounds...

Interesting?

Okay, all right.
Yes, I am an electrifying drunk.

What about that one?

Mayo or semen?

That one?

Uh, neither.
That is too high.

So...
I'm gonna go with...

Hair lotion.

What?!
Yep.

It's on the wall.

How vigorously
do you lotion your hair?

That's really personal.

I understand.
It all makes sense.

I like you.

Um...

Hey, they're predicting storms
all weekend,

so I'm gonna rent a car,
drive back tomorrow.

It's like five hours.

You want a ride?

Another for the slide show.

I look like a bloated warthog.

You want all pictures of you
and none of wheels.

It's my shower.

I'm putting some in.

Who is this?

What are you doing?

"Mommy and me"
exercises --

Lose the baby weight
and teach my daughter

great habits
that will last a lifetime.

Okay.

So...Set up the chafing dishes
at 2:00,

start cooking at 2:30.

Oh, your hippie friend Rachel
bailed this morning.

I bought all this
fucking soy crap for her.

Who's gonna eat
spinach vegan dip?

And the party games
are gonna have an odd number,

and the cake is too big.

Fuck. I left the dip
in the trunk.

We have nothing
for the crudités.

God, I hate it
when you get like this.

Hello?

Back here!

Hi.

Too costumey?

No.
Really?

I feel like I veered
from "hipster rocker"

straight into
"disco homo."

Mm.
It's a fine line.

You just had all that
hanging around?

Yep -- intended for a junior
version of my current rump.

I was a dancer.
Really? What kind?

Oh, the kind
that pulls wet $50s

from his spandex
at 4:00 AM.

What are you ladies up to?

Oh, Charmaine's
just about to tell me

she's afraid I'm gonna
fuck up her shower again.

No, I wasn't.

Just admit it, Charmaine.

Tara, seriously, stop that.

I can go.

Oh, sorry, no. Oh, God.
It's me. I'm sorry.

Um...I'm just trying
to be on top of things,

and I'm kind of freaking out
about...whatever.

Party planning
is clearly not my thing.

You're dripping smoothie
on your daughter.

Oh. Shit.

I'm sorry, peanut.

Yeah?!

Hey.

Come in. Sit down.

Enjoy yourself.

"Send."

An e-mail
to my publisher...

Who wishes I was dead.

You know what I miss most
since I moved to this vast

and far-away state?

Complicated cheeses.

A sweet ubriaco,
aged murcia curado.

The American cheese and Swiss
are fine if you're...

Dead.

Actually, they're never fine.

But you're not her
to talk about cheese.

No. Um...

Listen, I appreciate
everything you've done for Tara,

and I'm sorry to hear
about your...

kite kid and all that,

but I, uh...

I don't know. I think
you owe her a little more.

Max, tell me --

What is it you want,
in one sentence or less?

I guess I kind of --

I want you to deliver
on your promise to her.

That's not true.

You want to know
if she's gonna end up

face down on the pavement
with a ribbon pinned to her ass.

Well, I tell you --
I can medicate it.

I can give it a few good years.

But the truth is, it is
never gonna get any better.

Ever.

Sometimes you feel
you deserve ubriaco,

but life just gives you Swiss.

We still must all eat.

I'd like to make a toast
to an amazing shower.

You did it, girlie!
You pulled it off!

Yay for me!
Yay!

Mmm!

And...

To the electrifying
and magnanimous return

of Beaverlamp!

Yeah!
Yeah! Yeah!

Testing, one, two.
Check, one, two.

I can't wait to rock out
with my cock out! Whoo!

Nice tie.
Sherbety.

Yeah, it's my festive attire.

I was a total dick
the other day.

Oh, I didn't take it
personally.

Family shit is grim.

Carnage.

Yeah, slob.

Oh, well,
this was ridiculously fun.

Yeah.

Thank you for the ride,
and thank you for stopping

every 30 minutes
for my microbladder.

Yeah, of course.
Yeah. Anytime.

Uh, except every other
Friday, Saturday, Sunday --

Kid days.

Right.

And Tuesday mornings --
Pilates.

Right.

Sorry.

Um, and this is just
a family thing.

Oh, yeah, no.
I totally get it.

No -- no worries.

Plus, I'll see you
in two weeks.

8:00 A.M.
to Springfield.

Yeah, right --
bright and early.

Yeah.

Uh, you need help?

No, no, no.

Okay, bye.

Bye.

Come on!

Whoo, whoo, whoo! Hey!

Katie-Kate!
You made it!

Ohh, just in time!
Yay!

Hey, thanks for coming down,
everybody.

It's good to be back onstage
with the Beaverlamp boys!

I want to dedicate
this first song

to my beautiful
and amazing wife, Tara.

♪ Lazy ♪

♪ got a feelin'
that I could be somethin' big ♪

♪ if you dig ♪

♪ but I'd rather do nothin'
with you ♪

♪ lazy ♪

♪ on the couch
with a good beer and a cig ♪

He played this song
the night he proposed!

How sweet!

I know!

♪ My friends all call me
bastard ♪

♪ slob, disaster ♪

Look at dad!
He's shredding!

He looks so happy!

I'm gonna go grab the cake.

All right.

♪ My doll in tatters ♪

Sync by honeybunny
www.addic7ed.com

♪ lazy ♪

♪ got a feelin'
that I could be somethin' big ♪

♪ if you dig ♪

♪ but I wanna do nothin' ♪

♪ on the couch
with a good beer and a cig ♪

♪ it's a gig ♪

♪ but I'd rather do nothin'
with you ♪

♪ lazy ♪

♪ with my gang of hecklers ♪

♪ success-rejectors ♪

♪ milady ♪

♪ with your silent laughter
and violent rapture ♪

♪ you mess with my head ♪

♪ and unmake my bed ♪