Weeds (2005–2012): Season 6, Episode 2 - Felling and Swamping - full transcript

Previously on Weeds.

You come anywhere near my children,
I'll kill you myself.

Or perhaps...

I couldn't find a golf club.

We need to be out of here in five.

- You killed someone?
- Yeah.

Holy shit, Shane.

- I love you.
- I love you more.

I love her, but I ran.

Did you happen to abandon her
with your keys in your pocket?

No. She loves driving the van.



My child murdered someone.
I have to leave town now.

All he wants to do is follow you down
your next crooked road. It's over.

You can come if you want.
I'd like you to come.

You have to get Bubbie's ring back
from Audra.

No ring. Just drive.

So, what's the destination, boss?

That's the third time you've asked that.

Third time's the charm.

- North.
- Nance.

Right now, it's destination
away from where we were.

Did she scream?

Was there lots of blood?

Are you totally freaked
that the fruit of your loins is a killer fruit?

The blow to the head wasn't
necessarily the cause of death.



Yeah, might've been
that hard fall into the pool.

Maybe. I don't know.

Okay. I see. Yeah. More time. More distance.

I can wait.

Change of topic. Audra. Love of my life?

What does that mean?

What exactly are we looking for?

Media mogul, unfortunate accident.
Muerte, Pilar Zuazo.

- There's nothing here.
- Probably tomorrow.

- I'm hungry.
- You swung a mallet at a woman's head.

Yeah.

And you're okay with that?

Maybe she's not dead.
Maybe she's just injured.

She might've been just injured

before Mom sent
the automatic pool cover over her.

It's time for me to say,
"What is it that I really want?"

- Change the baby.
- You got it.

Two seconds. I'm so fast.

Message one.

I want to know where you are
and when you'll be back.

I want to know where my boy is. Call...

Listen. Logic says,
if he's made seasonal logging his life...

Let's go!

Yes. One second.

If he's off felling and swamping
six months a year,

that's a message.

- He's not ready.
- I said let's fucking go.

So, you got to say,
"Hey, what does Deb want for Deb?"

Do you have e-mail, Deb?
'Cause we can type it out.

I got to go. You deserve everything good!

Keep strong, sister!

Where are we going?

You paid for that with cash, right?

Card.

Great. Perfect.

Charges will be online in, what, an hour?

He's gonna see.

There, there, there. Superstores.
Let's stock up.

- Pull off.
- What?

It's now or never.
Max out the cards, snap them,

and drive like fuck so we're
nowhere near this place.

Okay, that's smart.

I missed the exit. Shit. I'll double back.

Shit...

Shit! Shit!

What's the matter?
They open the pool cover?

They found her and she's dead, right?

- We need to go back.
- We can't go back.

Yes, we can.

We can explain it. He's a juvenile.

We don't have to throw everything away.
It was a mistake, self-defense.

It wasn't a mistake.
She never even saw it coming.

Well, maybe no one else saw.

There was a security camera.

Oh, my God! This is insane!

We can't go back, okay?

We can't go back.

My days were numbered anyway,
as were yours,

because you all have the bad fortune
of being related to me.

So we can't go back. We can't.

You're on Radio Garage Sale.

Hi, my name is Martha,
and I have a lawn mower to sell.

Okay. That's the end of cards.
We're pooling cash.

No. No!

I'm not ruining my life because of him.

He made the mistake.
No one's looking for me.

You're right, Silas. No one's looking for you.

They will be looking for you
if they can't find me.

Nance, we're all tired.

No. No. He's old enough
to decide for himself.

I'm not gonna drag you along with me.

Just know, if you get out now,

it's not like you're gonna
be able to live a normal life.

You're still gonna have to run for...

I don't know how long.

You might have a better shot
going solo, so you decide.

You're gonna be a Ione wolf
or you're gonna go with the pack.

Shut up, Shane.

I will ask you, as your mother,
who wants you to live,

that you never go back to Ren Mar
or anywhere, really, in the San Diego area,

or Mexico, probably not Los Angeles.

Lupita slipped me some money.

Wow. Lupita. That was nice.

Come on, man. It's gonna be fun.

New name, new identity.

Total roaming, gypsy-style shenanigans.

Mad play from the ladies
in strange new towns,

strange new beds.

No, no, no. Security cameras.

Keep the bill down. There you go.

You're totally gonna rock
the itinerant-outlaw lifestyle, trust me.

This is living. No baggage. No rules.

Who exactly is after us?

I'm not sure.
Your mother has a better handle on that.

Get those phones. And batteries, too.

A whole bunch of them.
Nine-volt, D, double-A, triple-A.

Done this before?

Nova Scotia, summer of '89.
I'll be frank, this is my wheelhouse.

I'm the king of off-grid living.

Inflatable kayaks!

Okay, we got a line.

Wow. Victoria's Secret.

Lumber Liquidators.

Hooters? No Hooters? Hooters!

You want cash back?

Hit 9,999.

Max is 80.

Got any wiggle room there, Jazzmine?

80 per transaction.

I could void transaction and ring
everything separate if you want.

Can we do that?

Supposed to get manager's approval,

but I know how to fake it.

What...

I'm the chosen one of Warrior Gryphon.

Cool.

You have pretty skin.

Thank you.

The road, man.

Adventures on the road.

I told you we should've stacked
the diapers on the bottom.

You. Out. Now.

Oh, man. I was wondering
when she was gonna blow.

Yeah. She's pretty pissed.

Well, he bludgeoned a woman to death
with a mallet.

He should be chastised.

Listen.

What you did was not okay.

It was dangerous and foolish,
and now we're all paying for it.

Well, that's no way to say thank you.

- What?
- I saved your ass.

I saved all our asses.

Oh, shit.

Do you even hear yourself? You're a kid.

You're supposed to be out playing baseball,

not clubbing people to death.

I'm the mother. I decide who gets clubbed.

I do the clubbing, not you.

When you're 18... 21...
Feel free to take a stick...

- Croquet mallet!
- Whatever sporting good you desire,

club whoever you like,
go to prison for the rest of your life.

But meantime,
your only job is to do kid things.

Video games, broken curfews,
Peeps in the microwave.

That was my mess to fix, not yours.

Am I grounded?

Empty those pockets.

- No!
- Do it!

No more sugar for you.

But you're glad I did it.

I'm glad it was done, not by you.

Don't smile. Turn around.

Don't do it again!

Go.

Okay. Time for Uncle Andy's guide
to living off the grid.

Step one, kill your old identity.

From here on in, the Botwins are dead.

That means no contacting friends or family.

We don't have any friends or family.

I'm friends with Isabelle.

You can't contact Isabelle, honey. Sorry.

Well, that means you can't contact Celia.

No problem.

Moving on.

Step two, establishing new identities.

Where are we going?

If we get on the 84 in Portland,
it'll take us back to the 80.

We're not going to Pittsburgh.
We're going to

Canada.

- Canada? This is bullshit.
- No, it isn't.

We killed someone very important,
and we don't have Esteban to help us.

- "We"?
- He killed someone,

and we're not even sure
if anyone is following us.

Psychopath.

Esteban's not gonna be happy
that you took his child.

- My child. And your brother.
- Half.

Let's not make that distinction, okay?
It's petty.

- Shane, honey, get us to Canada.
- Keep going north.

What the hell is in Canada?

Distance between us
and what happened last night.

We could drive to Alaska or Argentina,
both good places to disappear.

Panama Canal!
Let's do a Seven Wonders tour!

Sorry. No Wonders.

Argentina requires going through Mexico,
which is out of the question.

Alaska, however, is still on the table.

- No, it's not.
- Why?

Long story involving
a cannery foreman in Kodiak

and a knife fight in a salmon smokehouse.

"If I ever catch you in this state again..."

It's not worth talking about.

Right.

How are we supposed to buy anything with
not much U.S. Cash and no credit cards?

In Canada?

Not rebuilding yet. Still fleeing.

Need time to work out the details.

I should've gotten out back in California.

Watch your movie, sweetheart.

The Dodge Caravan's
third-row split-bench seating

may also be flipped completely rearward

for convenient, comfortable tailgate seating.

- You, back. Me, front.
- No.

I'm not asking. I'm telling.

How about a "please"?

How about respect and fear
for your fucking mother?

- Switch with me.
- No. No. I'm more than capable...

Don't! Off! She's coming. Be cool.

Well, all right, good folks,
let's just do the drill.

Passports and where you from,
where you headed?

We are from Californ-l-A, headed...

- To Calgary.
- Yeah.

You just missed the Stampede.

So, how do y'all know each other,
and what brings you to Calgary?

- These are my sons.
- Well, my wife and I...

We're headed to a birthday party,
my great uncle's.

It's at a nursing home. Silas.

92 years young.

And it's tonight at 8:00.

Gordon Lightfoot's playing.

He's never met the baby.

Let's see the little bundle of love.

Four months. Stevie. Hold him up, honey.
Hold him up.

Let's see his face.

Let's just take a peek
at the little tyke's birth certificate,

and I'll get you on your way.

I think you've got it.

No. Must be in your purse, sweetheart.

Yeah, I don't...

I don't see it.

Someone's in the doghouse.

Do we really need it?
He's obviously got his father's smile.

Stop, sweetie. His smile is all yours.

I think the eyes are mine. The chin is yours.

I'm not sure that I agree.

I'm real sorry, folks.

I can't let you over
without the birth certificate.

Look, was he born in the States?

Yes, in a hospital, on the grid.

All right, I don't usually do this,

but if you call the hospital
and have them fax it over,

I'll get you right through.

All right, turn-around point's right up there.

- Yeah.
- And I'll see you soon!

Okay, thanks.

We could put the baby in a cooler,

sedate him with cough syrup, tape it shut,

put tiny air holes in the top.

Tiny air holes!

That's the spirit!

You're a murderer, but you got moxie, kid.

Now, where can we get a cooler?

- Canada's off.
- Why?

Mrs. Reyes, this is Agent Lipschitz
from the FBI.

We're currently investigating a fatality.

Your husband said
you and your sons were on vacation.

I trust you've remained within U.S. Borders.

Please give me a call when you get this.
My number is...

What the fuck?

They can trace us from towers!
Phones, everyone!

SIM card. Fried.
Much simpler. Less destructive.

I'm gonna shave my head.

You'll be so hardcore.

Maybe you should get a switchblade

that flips out of a comb.

Or maybe you should just get a comb
that looks like a switchblade

so you don't accidentally cut yourself.

Shut up! Lick my balls.

Don't make me go Pilar on your ass!

Okay.

Okay!

All is mellow.

Here. New socks.

No, don't shave your head.

Chicks like something to grab on to.

Look for the remote. Maybe Taxi Driver's on.

Object lesson.

Okay, all right. That was me.

Well?

No. No, no.

That looks fake and hooker-y.
Unless that's what you're going for.

Shut up. I like it.

New names, family. Who we gonna be?

I always hated "Price."

And "Botwin" was so...

Hey, don't piss on "Botwin."

I just hated always having to spell it.

- B-O-T...
- We need something meaningful.

Metaphoric.

Phoenix. Eric Phoenix.

No, Clive.

Steed. Clive Steed.

No, total porn name.

You want to choose a name
that sounds like your own

so that when people call you, you respond.

I'll be Shawn.

Shawn Newman.

New man.

"Newman" like Alfred E. Or Paul?

Like Randy. Short People.

Yes, I'll be Randy Newman!

N-E-W-M-A-N.

Heritage muddy. Jew? Can't tell.

Nathalie.

French spelling. N-A-T-H. Silent "H."

Nathalie Newman.

Stevie, you're Avi.

Not that you know your name yet,
but you will.

I love that you sleep all the time.

I know a mother's not supposed to say that,
but I do.

I'll be Mike.

Mike Newman.

Okay, Mike.

The Newman family.

Mike, will you hand me the salt?

Sure, Randy.

Shawn, you gonna get a refill?

I don't think so, Mike. Nathalie?

"Mom" is fine.

Newmans, hand me your old IDs.

ATM cards, library cards,
everything with your old names.

Mike?

Driver's license?

Took me three times to pass the written test.

Mike, honey.

No. I might need it.

What you'll need, Mike,
is Mike Newman's driver's license,

which could be a class A, D or M,

meaning Mike's license
will allow him to drive trucks

and buses and motorcycles,

which Silas Botwin's
pussy license does not.

You want to be an ice-road trucker or not?

Okay.

Now, let a master get to work.

Got the fake-ID guy.

Good cover.

I'm coming!

Sorry. I had the blender going.

- Is this 620?
- It sure is.

Sorry. I...

You folks looking for the Chinaman?

Right this way.

Billy, honey?

The fuck do you want?

How can I help you?

Why "the Chinaman"?

Why not?

You're not Chinese.

And you're not Mike, Mike.

Three twenty.

- Three hundred twenty?
- Yeah. Eighty each.

I already told you that.

I got 190.

That'll get you three.
You can choose which ones you want.

Don't make me press this button.

No, we don't want the button.

Wait.

I have got

Lumber Liquidators

or Sunglass Hut

or Hooters.

I got four of those. You can have three.

- Mom!
- What?

- Hooters gift cards?
- Swipe them first!

- Do we take them?
- Sure!

Shane Gregory Botwin.

His school ID from eighth grade.

A likable boy with sadness in his soul.

Confused, frustrated, impulsive.

We mourn Shane Gregory Botwin

and say baruch haba
to Shawn Oliver Newman.

May you live to see your dreams fulfilled.

This is a driver's license,

so you should probably learn to drive now.

Silas. Yitgadal, et cetera, et cetera.

Silas Andrew Botwin, firstborn son,

a green thumb,

an open and willing heart.

The best parts of you will carry forward.

The rest we do commit to fire.

And shit howdy to Mike T. Newman.

No one knows what the "T" stands for.

Mazel tov. Here you go.

Nancy Price Botwin.

Farewell, Pants, and all that you were.

You had many pockets.

And warm, wonderful welcome
to Nathalie Newman, silent "H,"

dancer, mother, lover of the open road.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Newman family.

Good.

Okay, hold hands.

- Let's go. We get it.
- Yeah.

Well, we're not a minyan anyway.

The Newmans will succeed
where the Botwins failed.

They will live a normal life.

They will find jobs.

They will

go to school.

They will have hobbies.

They will live a quiet, under-the-radar life.

The Newmans will be a family.

What if I'm having second thoughts
about being Mike?

It's too late, Michael.
We're out of Hooters gift cards.

You had very close ties to her
within your organization.

She was pivotal in financing
your bid for governor.

The records are public.

You really have nothing to say
about her death?

Agent Lipschitz,
my client is a very busy man.

If you remember anything
from that night, Mr. Reyes,

if anything suddenly occurs to you,
please don't hesitate to contact us.

This death occurred on American soil,

so it's very important
that we find out what happened.

Yeah. Of course.

Your wife, Mr. Reyes,

is she still on vacation?

Yes, she is.

When's she due back?

Tonight.

We've left her a message.

Do ask her to call
when you speak to her next.

Or

come see us in the morning. I'm here at 8:00.

I'll let her know.

Find the wife.

Go get her.

Get my son.