Weeds (2005–2012): Season 3, Episode 4 - Shit Highway - full transcript

Previously on Weeds...

I got busted.
Head of campus security at Valley State.

You just got jacked.

Here. This is yours.

If you need protection on campus,
just ask for me.

You still owe me 150 G's, lady!

How am I supposed to put food on my table
if you keep upping my debt?

Get a fucking job.

Chop that shit up. Move it.

Can you grow here?

Hell, yeah. It's perfect.
Shame it's all gonna be for U-Turn.



Silas Botwin, you're sentenced
to six months' community service.

Injuries such as yours may have rendered you unfit
for duty in the past but times have changed.

- What?
- Welcome to the army.

Your battle buddy is like a Siamese twin.

You're gonna shit when I shit.

- Why are you doing this?
- I laid everything on the line for you,

and you fucked me.

Kesheshian says "goodbye".

- Peter? He's dead?
- Yes!

I'll tell you how you can help me now.
Make the bags lighter.

Agent Fundis, DEA.

I'm here to talk about Peter Scottson.

Erm, we broke up,

me and Peter Scottson.



He hasn't come in to work for a few days,
and we haven't heard from him.

It's unusual.

Oh, well,

I don't know.

- We broke up.
- Look, Mrs. Botwin, I'm his partner.

- The one who burps?
- It's reflux.

When did you last speak with him?

Er... A few days ago. He brought oranges.

- Do you want them?
- Why would I want them?

I have no idea.

Erm...

- Listen, we broke up.
- I think we established that.

When he brought the citrus over,
did he say anything?

Where he was going?
What he might be up to? Work stuff?

No.

He didn't talk about work much.

I didn't even know what he did
till I tried on his jacket once by mistake.

I was cold and I had to pee.

Erm, about the break-up, we were just,
you know, at different places.

I think we just wanted different things.

I think he was working on some
undercover investigation on his own,

which is stupid,
but even when he goes indie,

he calls to let me know everything's fine.

He knows I worry.

I hope nothing's wrong.

Well, if you hear from Peter,
I'd like you to give me a call.

He really liked you.

Thanks for your time, Mrs. Botwin.

Where is Peter?

We broke up.

Is that gonna be a problem?

- No.
- What makes you so sure?

Mommy just knows.

Behold, the incorporated city of Majestic.

A city experiencing a rate of growth
few people could have anticipated.

Now, we've been a noisy neighbour,
and for that I want to apologise.

That sound you heard coming
from the east, the west, the north.

Houses popping up
like so many California wildflowers.

Well, that is the sound
of an economic miracle.

A month ago, our own City Council

had a session trying
to come up with a new town logo,

something we could put
on our signs, our brochures.

Italy is shaped like a boot.
Sicily, the ball that's about to be kicked.

Majestic is shaped like a, well,
some people say a horseshoe,

others, a smile.

But for some of us who are aware
of a particular infrastructure problem

facing Majestic,
well, we saw a different image.

In the midst of all our back-slapping, we
forgot a fundamental principle of smart growth.

If you're gonna poop,
make sure you can flush.

What we need is a bowl.

Agrestic is that bowl.

Now, in exchange for the right to redirect

a small portion of our sewage
through your town,

we'll retrofit your existing sewage system

with the most advanced technology
available at no cost to you.

We'll also grant you unrestricted access
to all our recreational facilities,

including our non-denominational
modern house of worship,

the Absolute Truth Ministry of Majestic.

Now, I know these are tough times
for Agrestic.

Your tax base is shrinking while the cost
of maintaining basic services is rising.

It doesn't have to be that way.

We're neighbours.

And this is a hand extended over the fence.

- Thank you, Mr. Groff.
- Sullivan. Please.

Sullivan.

Dumb name.

- Education?
- Two and a half semesters at Berkeley.

Graduated Berkeley with honours.

No lying. They can check these things.

This is Agrestic. No one's gonna check.

You're gonna look lame and stay unemployed
if you don't lie cos everybody else does.

Shane, remember that guy
who came to the door last night?

- Peter's friend?
- Yeah.

You haven't seen him lurking around
or anything, have you?

- Seen his Impala parked around?
- Lurking?

- Lurking.
- No, I haven't. Why would he be lurking?

- Does he know you're a drug dealer?
- No. I don't think so.

I just... I hear he's a lurker.

- Mom, can you type?
- With two fingers.

Proficient typing skills.

Now, what kind of job do you want?

Anything, so long as there's no
folding, lifting or scooping involved.

Then, I'll give you
a graduate degree in English,

and we'll take it from there.

Let's not overdo it.

I'm just proud of you.

What for?

Getting a real job.

Well, thank you, Shane.

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go. Come on!

Get your asses over here right now!

Go. Move it out. Go buy wings, Rodriguez.

Get your cock-violated asshole
up that rope, Botwin.

So help me, if you don't, I will rip out
your goddamn large intestine

and string you up
by your tiny little pecker with it.

- How fucking cool is this?
- We're gonna die.

- Let's go. Move it.
- Actually, you're gonna die.

I'm gonna hide under your corpse
till everybody's gone.

I ain't gonna be nobody's dead-body
blanket. We're gonna get them first.

We don't speak the language.
We know nothing about their culture.

We'll have the newest
fuck-you-up-good technology.

Insurgents are dead meat.

We're the fucking insurgents.

Dude. We're the goddamn USA.
We're the best.

We're the coolest, richest,
most righteous nation on Earth.

We're a debt-laden nation
of religious hypocrites.

All we do well is shop
and drive gas-guzzling SUVs.

You're fucking un-American.

Botwin! Rodriguez! Get your corn-holing,
shit-stained asses over here, front and centre.

What's with all the recurring
homophobic images?

Starting to worry about this guy.

They're onto you, man.
You're gonna get court-martialled

for all that Muslim-loving shit
you've been spouting.

Yeah? They're calling you over, too.

Oh. Oh.

I want you to return to your barracks,

change into fresh greens,
and report to me in nine minutes.

- Not eight, not ten. Is that clear?
- What's up?

Botwin, you do not ever ask
a commanding officer what's up.

He's not your fucking friend.
He's your goddamn master,

your motherfucking god.

- You hear me, sperm breath?
- Yeah.

- It's, "Yes, Sergeant."
- Yes, Sergeant.

Fall out.

Move it. Pretend I'm getting ready
to put my foot up your...

Wow. Lights on the church work.

- How awesome is this?
- Come on, Doug.

It's my turn.

So, are we prepared to commit our city
to being Majestic's bowl

because the guy next door
brought over a cool model?

- I'm not 100% sold.
- Do you understand the numbers?

- I do.
- And?

And we have to be able to renegotiate on
our terms and not theirs, otherwise we...

What's going on?

I thought that we dealt
with this last night.

- We did.
- Uh-huh.

- Why are you here?
- Why am I here?

- Why is he here?
- Slumming.

- Yeah.
- And it's a good thing, too.

No one here knows his ass
from a spreadsheet in the ground.

Or her ass, as the case may be.

Well, thanks for coming by,
but we don't need you.

We agreed to hire
an independent accountant

who is gonna walk us
through the entire proposal.

It's in the minutes.

- Right, Sarah?
- The city coffers are empty, Celia.

Doug, what's your take
on this Majestic proposal?

Basically, Majestic's overflowing
river of crap has got no place to go

but through us like a fiscal colonic.

We got them by the sphincter.

- Shit highway could be our road to riches.
- Our road to riches?

You know, the last time I checked,
you weren't even on the Council.

Graduated Berkeley with honours.
Associate editor, Oxford University Press.

- What division were you in?
- Sorry?

What division?
Academic books, reference, trade?

Academic. Textbooks mostly.

History. Lots of Civil War stuff.
Reconstruction.

And how did you like New York?

Oh, it was big, dirty. Lots of people.

Coconut. Nice.

You're a very beautiful woman.

I bet you look good
rolling right out of bed in the morning,

or in it the night before.

I have my moments.

If I hire you, I'll be paying for the right
to make comments like that. You OK with that?

As long as you're OK
with being shot down every time.

I like you, Nancy Botwin.
You're an operator.

The résumé's bullshit, of course,
but the mind is there.

Here's what I do.

I sell values-based communities,

which means that I, and you,
need to act the part.

Crucifix pin on the lapel, a smile on the
face, and a pleasant word for everyone.

No fucking the construction crews
like my former assistant

and then broadcasting it on the Internet.

Oh, I don't do porn so much anymore.
I found it very tiring.

Now, Majestic is my ninth community
and by far the most ambitious.

A lot comes through that door every day
that needs to be dealt with.

For instance, today I need to find
personalised gifts for every member

of the Agrestic City Council,
and I have no idea what they'd like.

I can do that.
I know the people on the Council.

I figured as much, since it was Celia Hodes
who recommended that I speak to you.

- Celia?
- I think this is what's referred to as kismet.

Hey, spaceshot.

You just got yourself a job.

- You start Monday.
- Ooh!

Can't believe they expect us
to do this job straight.

Qué?

- Yeah.
- Si. Muy bien.

Mrs. Gruber?

Silas, did you know that if you drink
and take Ambien,

you can randomly black out
and run your car into a boulder?

Totalled the Volvo.

Who's that cute Latino guy?

Hey.

It's so hot.

Yeah.

Why don't you take your shirt off?

I'm fine.

You have nothing to be ashamed of.

You're young and lean, like ostrich meat.

Erm, have you been drinking, Mrs. Gruber?

Don't tell.

Anyway, it isn't illegal unless you're
behind the wheel of a car, is it?

I guess not.

I'm wet.

How you know how high to hang those lights?

30 inches above the plant makes for
optimum lumen output in a space this size.

- And you got to control the temperature?
- Not just temperature, also humidity

so the plant don't grow
bacteria and fungus.

And anything else you want to know,
I'm a wealth of information.

You impressed, aren't you? You like,
"Wow, Conrad know what he talking about."

Yeah, if you're dick was
half as smart as your brain,

you would've stayed far away
from that girl like I told you.

If we gonna work together, you got to
get off my dick, dumb as it might be.

Ain't gonna happen otherwise.

Fair enough.

They need us, and we need them.
Let's be their bowl.

No. This is a closed session, Mr. Wilson.

Hold that thought.

I have an announcement to make.

For personal reasons, I've decided to
give up my position on the City Council.

- In accordance with...
- For fuck's sake.

...section 324, paragraph C,
we are hereby compelled to elect

an interim council member to replace me
until the next election.

I'm opening up the floor to nominations.

- I nominate Doug Wilson.
- I second the Doug Wilson nomination.

All those in favour of electing Doug Wilson
as interim council member say aye.

- Aye.
- Oh, you guys.

All those against?

- Nay.
- The resolution passes.

Doug Wilson will take my seat,
effective immediately.

- No, this can't possibly be legal.
- It is.

- And what makes you so sure?
- I wrote the bylaws.

So, now that that's that, I would like
to open up a new order of business.

Since there's no longer
a conflict of interest,

I would like to nominate Mitch Kamin
to contract all requisite landscaping

that will accompany shit highway.

Yeah.

- This is bullshit.
- No, Celia, it's human shit.

You got to get on the same page with us.

I'm not gonna allow this to happen.

You are not going to turn this
into your little corrupt kingdom again.

This time there's going to be
checks and balances.

There's going to be oversight.

Are you hearing me?

I'm shaking.

Nazdorovia!

Oh!

- Here we go. Here we go.
- Pass it down. Pass it down.

Here's to shit! Fill them up. Let's go.

Mommy got a job. Ice cream for everybody.

I'm the only one home.

Well, then, more for us.

What's your job?

I'm the new West Coast head
of Random House.

Mom, that's great. I told you. Yes!

Actually, I'm the executive assistant
to the head of the Majestic project.

By the way, darling,
they do check résumés.

So, let's thank God
Mommy smells like coconut.

- Hello.
- Where the fuck's my money?

Hold on. I'll be right back, sweetie.

Hey, guess what. I got a job.

Your job is being my bitch.
Where the fuck is my money?

OK, I'm having a little difficulty
moving your brick at the moment.

It's motherfucking weed. Everybody love
that shit. Sell it and bring me the money.

The DEA came to my house.

- I can't make a move right now.
- The fuck you can't.

DEA been up my ass since I popped
out of my mama's sacred place,

and that don't stop me one bit. Fuck them.

I don't have your confidence.

Then find it, bitch.

Fuck, Yevgeny. Not so hard.

Look, I want my money. You hear me?

Sell the weed to the fucking DEA
all I care. No more excuses.

- City and state, please.
- Santa Lejos, California.

- Listing?
- Valley State campus security.

Erm... I don't mean to quibble, Mrs.
Botwin.

I don't want to invite
another visit from your friends, but...

some of these bags look
a little light to me.

Look, I assure you they're not light.
It's just an airy blend.

- Look, you want it or not.
- Yeah, I'll take it.

I don't have the money on me,
so I'll be right back.

- Why would you not bring the money?
- I don't know. You make me nervous.

I make you nervous?

Yeah. You're scary.

You're this scary
lady drug dealer with thugs.

That's me.

Go get the money. Leave the bag.
Go get the money. Now.

OK, OK. I'll be right back.

That's right. You will.

Erm... I have to drive
to where the money is.

So, you want to come with me
or wait here or what?

I'll wait here.
I'll be right over there on that bench, OK?

- Yeah.
- Make it snappy.

This is boring.

Gets us out of that
fucking obstacle course.

All right, give me that phone.

- They said not to fuck with it.
- I'm not gonna fuck with it. I just wanna look at it.

Come on.

What do you think would happen
if we made a call?

We're not supposed to make calls.
We're just supposed to turn it on,

stand here,
and let some drone take pictures of us.

- What are you doing?
- Making a postcard.

Hey, that's funny.

- Give me your lighter.
- What for?

I want you to take a picture of me
lighting my fart.

OK, that's the spirit.

Hey.

Jesus, lady.
I thought you were someone else.

Come on. Come on!

Oh, this phone has video.
We can make a movie.

- Fuck.
- What's the matter?

- I got nothing. I'm tensing up.
- Fuck. Give me that.

Let me show you how it's done. All right?

OK, OK, hold on.

Now point the camera at my ass. Hurry.

I don't wanna see your balls, man.
Tuck them in.

All right, there, there, fine. Ready?

OK. It's coming, and it's a good one.
Here it comes.

- Hey, what is that?
- It's show time.

Fuck.

Holy shit.

OK, something.

Something, something.

Evidence.

Sorry, battle buddy.

- Merci, merci, madame.
- Please.

Just like Paris, huh?

- Sullivan.
- I owe you a thank you.

Your friend, Nancy,
she's gonna work out. Thanks.

Honestly, the poor thing
could really use help.

Entering the job market,
you know, at her age.

That crouton thing they do
on top of the soup, not good.

Try the croque-monsieur next time,
or the quiche.

You seem to know your way around here.

I travel a lot.

There's a Café Deux Mercis
in just about every city.

Same menu,
same framed posters, same smell.

There's a certain
comforting predictability to it.

- You live around here?
- Sort of. Yeah, yeah.

I sort of... I'm in a hotel, temporarily.

Are you in the All Suites?
That's where I am.

No. No, I'm staying
in one of the other ones.

Listen, what do you say we dump this crap

and go someplace where the lighting's
better and there's a full bar?

I'm buying.

Yeah, thank you.
I think maybe another time, though.

Ah, I insist. Why eat alone?

I actually have some place I need to be.

Totally forgot.

I'm sorry. I have to go now.

Thank you, though.

Yeah. A rain check.

Should you reconsider.

A bientôt, mademoiselle.

First new message.

You been dodging my calls, bitch.
Did you move my brick? I want my money.

If I don't hear from you soon,
I'm gonna pay you and yours a little visit.

I got a guy on payroll that just thinks up
fucked-up shit to do to people.

Next message.

- You're gonna be late.
- It's OK.

You know, this community service thing
is totally unsupervised.

Every morning they tell me
where to go and what to do,

but no one even bothers to check
and see if I show up or not.

I still want you showing up.

The thing is,

I can pretty much do anything I want.
No one's watching me.

- No one.
- I'm watching.

Plus, I meet lots of really cool people.
People who like to have fun.

People who would pay to have fun.

This is a non-starter.
I will never let you deal.

You don't have a choice.

I know you don't.

It's too dangerous.

I don't want this for you.

Come back here.

We'll discuss this later.