Weeds (2005–2012): Season 6, Episode 3 - A Yippity Sippity - full transcript

Previously on Weeds.

Shane, what the fuck happened
at the party?

I killed Pilar with
a croquet mallet by the pool.

She was gonna kill us so I popped the bitch.

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

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

No, I want to stay here
and start my life with this woman I love.

Well, that's not really an option
for you anymore, Andy.

We're not gonna work out.

So, what's the destination, boss?

North.



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

Step one, kill your old identity.

Step two, establishing new identities.

- I'll be Mike.
- Shawn.

- Nathalie.
- I'll be Randy Newman! N-E-W-M-A-N.

Heritage muddy. Jew? Can't tell.

The Newmans will succeed
where the Botwins failed.

They will find jobs, have hobbies.

They will live a normal life.

Go get her. Get my son.

It was about four months ago.

And, Andy was there for the birth, of course.

And Esteban arrived later.

That pissed off Andy
like you wouldn't believe.



But I guess he's happy now.
He took off after her

like she was made of shit
and he was king of the flies.

I had just been held hostage
and my fiance was leaving me.

I wasn't asking too many questions
about Nancy's travel plans.

Far away, I hope.

In my minivan.

In my minivan.

What do we want? Money!

When do we want it? Now!

What do we want? Money!

When do we want it? Now!

What do we want? Money!

This is a real dilemma, Nance.

- On the one hand...
- We want money.

Well, on the other...

We want it now? Need, actually.

We have exactly $793 between us.

I don't see the dilemma.

Crossing a picket line is against everything
Andy Botwin's ever stood for.

What's broke-ass Randy Newman's
take on it?

Fuck them.

- Don't cross our line!
- Stay strong.

Union busters! Scabs!

Well, you all seem to have
quite a lot of experience

in the hospitality industry.

We're very passionate about hospitality.

Any problem crossing the picket line?

They're all bark. No bite.

Morally, I mean.

We sympathize with both sides.

Yeah. Well, only one side is right. Okay?

Those are good people out there
and I'd be with them if I could.

But I got to pay for rink time.

My youngest is an ice dancer.

Russia, 2014.

Noel Kruszewski. Remember that name.

Noel Kruszewski.

That is some outfit.

- He's not gay.
- I'm sure he's not.

Yeah. Well, he might be gay.

That's okay, too.

So, I'm a great problem solver.
I manage people really well.

And Randy here...

I don't typically toot my own horn
but I do have extensive culinary training.

I am great behind the bar.
Quick with the bottle, short with the pour.

Well, that all sounds quite impressive.

Dishwasher. Bellhop. Maid.

This is good.

It's grounding. It's a seedling.

From which we will branch out and flourish.

The normal Newmans from normal town?

And you really believe we can keep this up
for any serious length of time?

This is who we are now. This is us.

What if you'd have gotten a real job
after Dad died

and we could have skipped all this shit?

We would have had to sell the house.

Move to a very different zip code.

You and Shane would have gone
to even lousier public schools.

Doesn't sound so bad.

You probably still would have
knocked up a girl.

Maybe this one would have been blind
instead of deaf or missing a limb.

You would have struggled with your grades,

smoked weed, dropped out,
gotten your GED.

Your brother
still would have had rage issues.

He would have lost his virginity
to a skanky girl or a skanky-girl duo.

He would have grown
increasingly alienated,

ended up stabbing the mailman
or my manager at the Gap.

We would have been in the exact same spot
we're in right now.

Shane, if Mom would have worked
at the Gap instead of selling drugs,

you think you still would have
killed somebody?

Probably.

Oh, boy.

I think your mom has now awakened
all the hookers.

Okay, hopefully, he should sleep soon.

There's four bottles in the fridge.
Changing stuff is on the dresser.

Remember to cream his butt,
so he doesn't get a rash.

And you got to burp him
every time you feed him.

Your mom's gonna call in a couple hours.
She says don't leave the room.

Did you really just say, "Cream his butt?"

I did. Mike, time to go.

You really think it's a good idea?

Leaving Pebbles with Bamm-Bamm?

No, but we can't afford childcare,
so we have to take this small leap of faith.

I'm encouraged, because so far,
the baby's never tried to have us all killed.

Nice hat.

Let's practice. I'll say ding and you hop.

Ding! Get me the remote.

Shit! He just took the remote, Stevie.
We're screwed.

Fuck this place. Let's roll.

Housekeeping!

Hey. Hi. What's going on?

I feel like we're in a reality show.

Who's getting chopped?

You the new dishwasher?

And... Randy. Randy.

Not Ayn Rand-y.
Couldn't get through Atlas Shrugged.

- You start work at 11:00.
- Yeah.

Which means you need to be here
before 11:00,

so you can be ready for inspection.

- Inspection.
- Are we ready?

- Yes, Chef Wagner.
- Yes, Chef Wagner.

Morning, Chef. Randy Newman.
I'm a chef myself, you know.

So if there's anything I can do
to help spark up the menu,

please let me know.

I noticed that you're still serving things
in bread bowls.

That is so '80s.
So, you're trying to be retro, yeah?

What are you?

Bit of an open-ended question there.

Astrologically, I'm a Libra.

Scales, hence I'm idealistic and romantic,

- but also a tad impatient...
- He's the dishwasher.

Well, yeah, among other things,
but temporarily.

Then I suggest you do some dishes.

There aren't any to wash yet.

Let's talk food!

I get it, hazing. Okay.

And where would you like it, Mr. Duvane?

You may set it right on the bed, thank you.

And call me Paul.

Beautiful room!

- Yeah. It's nice.
- Yeah.

Fancy TV and everything.

Although, I don't really watch TV.
I like books.

Is there gonna be anything else,
Mr. Duvane?

Of course. I'm so sorry.

Recalibrating for manners.

You're in need of a reward.

- There we go.
- Wow.

It's very generous. Thank you.

Yeah, well, you must be tired. Heavy bag.

Please. Here, sit.

- I should really be going.
- No, please.

Do you like books, Mike?

Yeah, sure. Books, they're okay.

"Okay" is a 60-degree day.

Where's the hot and the cold?

I want you to read to me.

- I'm sorry. What?
- You see, I have plenty of books here.

But they tire my eyes

and don't you think it's fantastic

when you hear stories
in somebody else's voice?

I should get back downstairs.
There was a pregnant woman coming in...

A family of pregnant women. Lots of bags.

Nobody else will tip you as well as I will.

So I just sit here and read to you?

Yeah. More or less.

What's the "more"?

Let's just focus on the "less."

Piece of shit.

Yeah, it's really not worth it to fix it.
You might as well buy a new one.

What do you got?

Well, we exclusively carry
the Yippity line here.

We got the Yippity Sport, the Yippity Deluxe.

And our best-seller, the Yippity Dragon.

- How much is it?
- $800.

For a stroller? That's ridiculous.

What do you have for $100?

I've got the Yippity Sippity.
That's the cup holder.

A cup holder, for $100?

Look, I don't make the things.
I just sell them.

Living the dream.

Yeah, look, kid, I bought my house
at the height of the market,

and now I'm squatting in it.

Add to that my Scrabble debts

and my wife wanting,
no, needing, the lap band,

and I don't have time to dream.

If you ain't buying,
I'm going back to my online game.

- God! I'll come back.
- No. Wait.

She took off.
She said she was late for her day job.

Are there keys on the desk?

- Yeah.
- Great.

Please.

Thank you.

Awkward.

Wow. Did you have an accident?

No, that's not mine.

- Hers?
- Yeah. I got what I paid for.

- Could you hurry up, please?
- Wait. Let me get this straight.

So, you invite a hooker up here,
have her cuff you to the bed,

drink a $20 bottle of Evian
and then pee on you.

Did you at any point happen to think
who might have to clean it up?

That's your job. Don't pass judgment on me.

I'm a paying guest. You're the fucking maid!

Will you hurry with the keys!

You're not exactly in the power position,

so I suggest you be
a little more respectful to me,

the "fucking maid."

I'll leave you a nice tip, okay?

- How much?
- 20 bucks.

- 80.
- Okay, fine.

She took all your cash.

Phil Lounsberry from Hoboken.

Please. I'm cold, you know?

- At first, I was warm...
- Let me tell you what, Phil...

- May I call you Phil?
- Yeah.

You want your freedom. I want mine.

I'll leave some sheets for you, right here.

How about today you be your own maid?

- Sound good?
- Yeah.

Don't worry about the tip.

I admire your sauce work.

Light, clean, artistic. I just...

We should work on a dish together.

Tell me, where did you train?

God. My skills are based more on experience
than formal training.

- Fascinating.
- Yeah.

I think that cooking schools
can crush the creative spirit.

My spirit is uncrushed.

- Where did you learn to cook?
- Your mother's vagina.

Really? Sounds very avant-garde.

Tell me, why are you speaking to me?

You're a dishwasher
who doesn't wash dishes.

Can you please tell me
why I shouldn't fire you right now?

Because my mother's vagina
taught you how to cook.

- You will never again speak in my kitchen.
- I know.

- Understood?
- Yeah.

Compliments of the gentleman.

Let me guess, something in computers.

Software?

FBI.

Federal Bureau of Interested in you.

I'm sorry.

Telling people
I'm in heating and air-conditioning

isn't exactly an aphrodisiac.

- I'm Vince.
- Nathalie.

And what do you do, Nathalie?

What do I do? Excellent question.

I own my own business. A dance studio.

Modern dance.

- I studied in Paris and...
- Paris?

- Where were you?
- Le neuvieme arrondissement.

It was great.

It was so great.

- But then New York beckoned and...
- And Seattle?

Yeah.

I get restless.
And this opportunity came along,

my own business.
No one looking over my shoulder.

- You know?
- Kids?

Yeah. What?

- Kids?
- No.

Husband? Boyfriend?

I have a history

of killing anything
that could conceivably work out.

Not everything is meant
to have a long shelf life.

- No. You gotta pick the fruit while it's ripe.
- I love fruit.

Excuse me, sir. Don Kruszewski.
Hotel manager.

I just need a quick word
with my employee here. Okay?

Come. Over here.

First off, give me that. Okay?

The wig isn't fooling anyone, okay?

No staff at the bar.

I don't care if you're off the clock...
Look at me.

Go and drink down the street. Okay?

Second, guess what.
You're not off the clock yet. Okay?

Cause one of our valued regulars,
Mr. Lounsberry,

he just called housekeeping
to say that his sheets had not been changed

and his bed had not been made.

Get up to 612 immediately and do your job.

While you still have it.

Hope you're enjoying your stay.

"Dear maid, you know I love paying women
for dirty jobs. Thanks."

He's gonna pay you to read to him?

Yeah. I'm supposed to sit in his room
and read to him

in my underwear.

- How much?
- 50 bucks a page.

Not bad!

I once ate Angelo Costello's boogers
for 25 cents.

- That's disgusting.
- Yeah. Exactly.

Take off your pants.
Go read to this old weirdo.

Wear boxers.

Preferably ones that don't gape.

Read fast and skip paragraphs.

It's not gay, right?

Not if he pays you. Or if it's underwater.

This fucking sucks.

You never know. Might be a terrific book.
You'll get lost in the narrative.

Oh, boy. I never thought
I'd be washing dishes again.

And who puts trout almondine
on a fucking menu anymore?

It's like he's cooking for the resistance.

- You missed a spot.
- Back off, reading rainbow.

Hey. How was your day, Nat?

I'm no better than the whore
who pees on people.

Silas, I think Mommy has a story, too.

I need something stronger than this.

Hey, buddy. You're the piano player, right?

I like what you did with
She's Always A Woman in there.

Thank you, man. Thank you.

Hey, you should hear my
Scenes From An Italian Restaurant.

- Looking forward to it.
- Yeah.

So, you know where I could score
some weed around here?

You're shit out of luck on that one, man.

Nigel the valet used to supply,
but he's on strike.

And the motherfucker won't sell to nobody
who crosses the picket line.

- Thanks.
- Here. Have a mini-Frangelico.

- No, no, no, no.
- What? No, no!

I'm not thinking anything.

I'm not... I'm a maid. I love my job.

I leave things clean and in order.

We're the Newmans.

It's a whole new life.

Well, I must say,
you look pretty good for having cancer.

Well, they haven't started the chemo yet.

So mostly I'm just kind of...

So, to be clear,

you don't dispense
any marijuana here at all?

All we are is a patient network.

We connect you with a caregiver, grower.

And then you make your own arrangements,
for the medicine, marijuana.

Great. Let's network.

As soon as I see
your doctor's authorization.

Okay.

He's not in the strictest sense of the word,
a doctor.

It's a more alternative treatment.
Experimental stuff.

Rules, dear. If I don't see the consent

signed by a physician
licensed in this state...

- There it is.
- What?

In your shoes.

Those look like my size.

- Are you serious?
- I really like shoes.

- Hello.
- Hi. Dolores sent me.

Nathalie.

Come in.

Fiona! The seitan is burning!

And save the oil!

Fuels our van.

Pain in the ass to collect,
but Gaia thanks us.

Go green.

You got cash?

I'm thinking this is a down payment
with a little more product on consignment?

Here, you get what you pay for.

Please? As one sister to another?

I'm really good at moving product.
I could be your biggest customer.

Except you're not my sister.
And we're not wholesalers.

We sell for personal use only.

You don't keep your trimmings.

We used to use them for compost.

Turns out they are bad for the beetroot.

Or anyone who eats the beetroot, so...

- She's cute. How old is she?
- He is five.

Kish, you better be shooting peace rays.

I told you we need to cut his hair.

- Hey, he's good.
- You're gonna make him a fag!

Boys can be really violent. It's all kill, kill...

Kish, go into the contemplation corner.

Okay.

So, your trimmings, you throw them away?

Well, if we ever get our certificate
from the Health Department,

we are thinking of making edibles.

Health Department, notorious feet-draggers.
Could take years.

I'll take them.

Doesn't mean we're giving them away.

I'm thinking $100
buys me a lot of trimmings.

Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.

"If you want to see the inside
of the spaceship, go to page 64.

"If you decide to stay in the forest,
go to page 114."

Go inside. Go inside.

"Your move has paid off.
They welcome you in for a meal."

- You never die.
- I never what?

I thought the Newmans
were doing things differently.

We are!

We're making hash.

So much for normal.

This is our normal.

Damn.

How come I'm never invited
to these big parties?

You guys better not
have had any strippers here!

Jesus Christ.

Andy!

Silas!

Creepy downer?

Hello?

Guess you guys weren't invited,
either, huh?