Original subtitles

Previously on Weeds.

You know what, just once admit that you had sex with Mr. Schiff.

Her math teacher.

And he threatened to stab himself

in the heart with a geometry compass

when she dumped him.

He finally got fired, divorced his wife,

and camped out on our front lawn

until Daddy had him taken away.

He used to send you notes from the loony bin.

Gross. Total bullshit.

Andy, I got a fucking AMBER Alert out on me.

What happened to your arm?

I dropped my keys in the porta-potty. There was a raccoon in there.

Punched him out.

I got everybody up my ass.

We need to go far, far away.

Yeah. Copenhagen.

We're gonna need passports.

Okay. Lots of money.

Well, we'll sell lots of drugs.

No. One big sell. And it's done.

What's next?

One more stop first.

Oh, my sister Nancy.

What a big fucking surprise.

Dad worked for Ford,

just like everyone else within a 30-mile radius of Detroit.

There was this mermaid mailbox that my dad made.

Doug, hurry the fuck up. I gotta go.

Hang on, bro. Got a mudslide coming.

Bullshit. You're smoking in there. Come on.

Just pooping.

Lit a match to mask the stench.

That is not poop. That's hash.

Not fun in here. Not having any fun.

How smart is it to go back to your hometown

when everyone's looking for you?

We sell hash. We go where the customers are.

Dearborn is crawling with Arabs.

Also not a bad place to score a fake passport.

Isn't it a little racist to assume

all Arabs have access to fake passports?

It's also racist to assume all Asians are bad drivers, but they are.

Andy's gonna make some friends, hook us up.

How about I sell the hash

and you get passports from the radical Muslims?

I got a Jew face.

Oh! Wait, turn here. I think it's on the next block.

The Fake Passport Depot?

No, my friend Lainie's house.

It's where I hid every time I ran away from home.

All right, here it is. Here. On this corner. Right here.

We should go in and see if Lainie's home.

Ooh! Strip club. I'll put my sweatpants on.

Why can't we just find someplace to park and stay in the RV?

Trolling around Little Beirut in the Jesus wagon

might bring some unwanted attention.

Yeah. We need a nice crappy American car around here so we blend.

And sleep where?

What about Mr. Schiff?

Who?

The math teacher she boned in high school.

Bullshit. That never happened.

Do you remember where he lived?

Uh, by the park on Maple.

He boned her.

It wasn't an admission.

Who the hell knows where their high school math teacher lived?

He won't even remember me.

Nancy?

Mr. Schiff.

Wow!

And what's with the Mr. Schiff routine? It's me. It's Warren.

God.

I knew you'd come back.

And you look fantastic.

Oh.

It definitely happened. Gross.

Hey. Never confirmed.

They had sex.

How're you doing? It's so good to see you. You look well. You're well?

What do you mean "well"?

I'm not crazy anymore if that's what you mean.

I did go away for a while, but I'm better now.

Oh, glad to hear it.

Except for the sciatica.

Yeah. They say that it's a pelvic imbalance

from schlepping that mail bag around

on my right shoulder for all those years,

but I don't agree with them.

I think it's more referred pain, you know, from the plantar fasciitis.

You work for the post office?

Yeah. Oh.

Perfect.

Uh... Uh...

Wanna come in?

I'm not alone.

Okay, so, Aaron is your brother.

Brother-in-law, Andy.

Andy, Andy, right.

Steven is your friend.

Doug.

Doug? Doug, yes. And... Oh, shit!

Shane. Shane. Shane... Uh...

Midas? Silas.

Silas! Silas. And the baby is the baby. The baby.

So, you sure you're okay with everybody staying here?

Okay? Nothing will give me more pleasure.

What's mine is yours.

Except that telescope. Don't touch that telescope.

Nobody touches the telescope. Okay?

Or goes into the room over there. You can try, but it's locked.

Hey. Nice massage table.

That's my bed.

I sleep face down on that little hole.

Takes pressure off the cervical nerves.

You have a lot of cool stuff in here.

I got it all from SkyMall. I'm hooked on that catalog.

That stuff's bullshit. I once ordered the extra tall carry-on bag

and it was too "extra tall" to fit in the overhead compartment

so they made me check it.

Then the airline lost the bag.

And when I asked for a refund,

they said that I should've bought

the electronic suitcase locator.

So I bought that and when it didn't work,

they said I should've bought the extra long life battery re-charger.

So I bought that and when it exploded, they said,

"Oh, you should've got the surge protector

"because you're overloading the socket."

So I bought that and...

Can you shut the fuck up?

Uh, what's with the JC Mobile out there?

You're not born again or anything?

No. We lost our faith a long time ago.

Oh. Well, you lost something here a long time ago, too, didn't you?

Uh, Doug, RV, sell it now.

Why do I have to do it?

Andy and I have errands to run.

Right.

Listen, uh, is everything okay with you guys?

'Cause I'm sensing a little trouble.

No. Everything's fine.

But if anybody asks I'm Nathalie, Shane is Shawn,

Andy's Randy, Doug is Ted, Silas is Mike, and the baby's Avi.

Clear?

So?

What were you thinking? You go to Dearborn 'cause Arabs love hash?

You been watching too many episodes of 24.

No one does this shit anymore.

You're wrong. It's making a comeback. It's retro. Kids love retro.

These things are cyclical.

Look, I promote three of the hottest nights a week out of this space

and, trust me, no kid comes here to smoke hash and get mellow.

They all wanna get cranked up, fuck like dogs.

So, unless you're packing E or blow,

you're shit out of luck, Mommy.

I need up, not down.

Up, not down.

Hash. Belongs in a fucking museum.

Okay. Thank you for your time.

Boy, what a crowd.

I'm sure this isn't a fire hazard. Right?

Mind if I kneel down next to you?

Stretch the hip flexors a little bit?

There we go. Okay, I'm ready.

I'm sort of a recent convert.

Prison, five-year stretch. I don't like to talk about it.

Found Allah. It was either that or go Aryan Nation,

but those guys are just assholes.

Passports?

Passports?

Passports?

Why do you keep saying this word? Please stop.

Passports?

Passports?

Passports?

Oh, hey. Oh, wait, can I get my mat? It's a Manduka Pro.

This isn't very accepting of you.

The mosque up the street has much nicer carpets.

So you know.

What the fuck is that?

Shut up. I'm concentrating.

It's a telekinetic obstacle course.

It measures theta waves like an EEG.

It's kind of like shock therapy.

Not that I've ever had that.

It's not moving.

Stay focused.

So, Mr. Schiff,

what was my mom like as a teenager?

Well, uh, she got straight A's in math.

An amazing gymnast and dancer.

Oh! We used to have this talent show

where all the kids would choreograph these numbers

and make money for the prom.

And Nancy stole the show.

I mean, she outshined everyone,

including all the older girls.

She designed her own costume, which was this metallic,

lavender, leotard thing

which was so...

Excellent.

You wouldn't have any pictures, would you?

Check this out.

You keep a picture of our mom in your wallet?

No. No, no, no, no.

I just dug it out a few minutes ago to show it to you two.

And if you don't believe me, I'm not crazy.

Oh, nobody said you were.

So, what else can you tell us about her?

Why don't I fetch the yearbook and you can see for yourself.

This is bullshit.

Maybe it only works on positive energy.

Fuck you.

So, what do you think is in the locked room at the end of the hall?

Probably a shrine to Mom.

Et voila!

Holy shit.

Yeah, here she is.

Shane, check it out.

Hold on. I'm getting close.

That's weird. The guy next to her has his face marked out.

That's 'cause he was an idiot.

Still is. I deliver his mail.

Lars Guinard.

The loser, asshole, do-nothing boyfriend of your mother's

from the middle of junior high all the way through high school.

Really?

She's never mentioned him.

She ever mention me?

Holy fuck, it's levitating!

What's this Lars guy look like?

Blond-haired, lean, chisel-faced.

He looked like you.

Oh.

Surprise!

Was in the neighborhood. Decided to drop by.

Wow! Nice headstones.

Jill really went all out.

As usual. This is Avi. Stevie, whatever. Your grandchild.

Wanted you to meet him.

Sorry you never got a chance to meet Silas and Shane.

In retrospect, probably a mistake. But you started it.

You think my marrying a Jew was bad,

you should meet this little guy's father.

Long story. Didn't work out so well.

Won't bore you with the details.

Really liking this new side of you.

Less judgmental, more accepting, willing to listen.

If I weren't in the process of fleeing the country,

I'd say we should do it more often.

Anyway...

Anderson's Butterscotch. Your favorite.

Mom, sorry. I didn't get a chance to stop by a liquor store.

Say bye.

Excuse me, I'm totally lost.

Would you mind if I follow you back to the main office?

I need to get one of those. Why didn't I get one of those?

Dummy. Uh, me, not you.

Your baby has your eyes. The shape, not the color.

I'm not a pervert, I promise. I'm just chatty

and in desperate need of a map.

I'm done. Here. Take mine.

Nancy Price?

Ellis Tate. From high school.

I was a freshman when you were a senior. I had a huge crush on you.

You had no idea I existed.

Sure. You look the same?

Yeah. Uh, sorry about your parents.

Mine are buried around here somewhere, too. Probably hiding from me.

But I'll find them.

Clearly I haven't exactly been a regular visitor around these parts,

if you know what I mean.

Glad to see I'm not the only one.

Uh, listen, I live in Oregon.

I'm just down here clearing up some family trust stuff.

Dodged all the reunions. Didn't really keep track of the old crowd,

but seeing you now, I'm starting to regret it.

Do you wanna get a coffee or something?

Relive the old horrors and humiliations of high school?

Well, that sounds like no fun.

Nice to see you.

They fuck you up, your mom and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had

and add some extra just for you.

It's sad, isn't it?

One cup of coffee?

Hmm?

My number.

That's very sweet, Ellis, but...

You're a freshman, I'm a senior. It'd never work out.

Dork.

Oh, look, sorry about ruining your prayer time in there.

Look, there's a militancy to our religion

I'm just not yet simpatico with.

Passports. Are you buying or selling?

Buying. I'm buying. Yeah, see, I knew.

I'm a good judge of character.

The minute I laid eyes on you, I said, "That's a guy with connections."

It is true. I can connect you with someone.

But it will cost $100. Cash.

Oh, okay, yeah.

Uh... Uh...

Go to 84720 Michigan Avenue. Ask for Sam. He's my uncle.

84720 Michigan Avenue. 84720 Michigan Avenue.

84720 Michigan Avenue. Ask for Sam.

No luck ditching the Jesus mobile.

I think we're gonna have to come up...

Shh! Don't confuse me. I got an address.

84-something-something Michigan Avenue.

Fuck! 8742...

No. 842... God! Oh!

This always happens to me! Ridiculous bad short-term memory. Damn it!

84720.

I was an accountant. Numbers was my thing.

What a douchebag.

Ask for Sam, my uncle. Uncle Sam.

That bastard ripped me off.

Fucking Arabs.

All right, what now?

We paint "Allah is awesome, love," on the side of the RV?

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck! What the fuck?

Sorry. I didn't see your car. My car?

This is my home. I live here, fuckwad!

Okay. No need to get nasty.

Yeah? Well, I made this fucking car!

Twenty-three years on the assembly line, laid off!

And you're an asshole!

Hey, man, sorry we dented your house,

but the damage does seem minimal

and I'm guessing since you're living out of your car,

you're probably not keeping up with the insurance payments,

so what do you say we call it a day?

Yeah? Fuck you! You could've killed my wife!

And my kids!

You okay, honey?

You all right, buddy? You kids okay? You all right?

Give me 100 bucks and we'll call it a day.

That seems to be the popular number today.

I'll tell you what.

We'll trade you the RV for the car.

Obviously, you need a home to raise your kids.

We need a car that gets more than eight gallons to the mile.

What's the catch?

Uh, the catch is with this economy you have no hope at all of finding a job.

So, take it. Your kids need more than a ashtray to call their own.

Pack your things. We're moving out.

So, anything special we should know about the car?

Oh, yeah. Termites, asbestos. And the basement floods in the winter.

Fucking assholes.

Fair enough.

Ellis, Ellis...

Tate...

How's Mommy gonna move all this hash? Huh?

No? No idea? You're no help. You're no help.

Wow.

That could work.

Silas Guinard. Mike Guinard.

Shut up.

Just 'cause I'm blond doesn't mean Dad wasn't my dad.

Andy's got light hair.

You think Andy's your dad?

No, dipshit, I'm just saying

maybe it skips a generation or something.

If that was the case, you'd have a Jewfro like Grandpa Lenny.

Yeah, well, we'll see.

This Schiff guy's a little out to lunch.

Lars could be black for all we know.

It's Lars. Not DeLars.

Shut up.

This is his house.

What the fuck are you doing?

You can't just ring some guy's doorbell

and ask if he's someone's father.

Just chill.

Yo. Can I help you, bros?

Yeah. We, uh, noticed your car's for sale.

Oh! Hey, yeah. Totally. She's a sweet ride. Real cherry.

Cool scooters.

You guys get those from SkyMall?

Yeah. How'd you know?

Ordered one last year, never showed up.

Then I ordered another one, same thing.

Let me grab the keys.

He is so your fucking dad.

Go to hell. Yeah. Hell-sinki.

Fuck you.

Must you stand over me like this?

Yes, I must.

I'm not good under pressure.

No, no, no! That's too much hash!

This drink's supposed to be an upper, not a downer.

Right now the only thing acting like a downer is you.

Stand back. Let a master chemist do his thing.

Creating a new drug is a delicate art.

Gotta lift you up, but not too high or too fast.

Then, once afloat, it must keep you there with a steady hand all night.

And then once the complete experience has run its course,

it has to gently lay you back to a peaceful and restful sleep.

It also has to fuck you up.

That, too. All right.

One part grain alcohol, dash of hash, a hint of Red Bull.

Ah! And a soupcon of my super secret ingredient.

Close your eyes. Turn around.

Why? 'Cause it's super secret.

Okay, Dr. Feelgood, let's get this high on the road.

Well...

Hmm! Oh!

Okay.

I replaced the alternator a couple months ago.

Brakes, I did just last summer, but with the nasty winters,

if I were you guys, I'd get it looked at before it snows.

And I'm not coming down on the price. Okay?

I mean, you seem like a nice kid

but this car's got a lot of sentimental value.

Just don't tell me you lost your virginity in it.

That's funny.

You're a funny guy, Mike.

Yeah, that's me. Funny Mike.

So, if it's so special to you, why do you wanna sell it?

It's probably time, you know. I'm not getting any younger, right?

Ah, hell. Who the hell am I kidding?

My girlfriend is making me get rid of it.

She doesn't like the fact that I banged other chicks in it.

Oh, hey, bro. You find the bathroom okay?

Yup. Thanks. Cool.

So what do you think? Do you wanna take her for a spin?

Oh, uh, I gotta pass.

I don't think I can buy something

you're not really ready to sell.

Oh, hey, no problem. I totally understand.

Actually, I kind of appreciate it.

You know what I'm gonna do right now?

I am gonna take this baby off the market.

I mean, we don't always have to do what chicks tell us to do, right?

Yeah. Especially fat chicks.

Right.

I'm really happy you guys showed up today.

You cleared some stuff up for me.

Oh.

So there's a tiny resemblance. But he's not my dad.

We'll let the lab decide.

Lab?

DNA, my brother. Or should I say half-brother.

How do you feel now? Are you okay?

My heart's beating really fast.

I think I'm hard. Nance, check.

A little faster. To the left.

You're a genius. I think you've reinvented the Quaalude.

I'll keep working on it.

No, don't change anything. It's perfect.

I'm on fuego. You wanna dance?

No, thanks. Andy?

No, I'm good.

Fun!

It's fierce.

That's good, right?

It's very good.

Here's how it works. I deliver it in brand-name bottles

so your bartender can pull what looks like bourbon from a well.

I figure you can get 15 bucks a shot.

Twenty. 20 bucks a shot.

There's probably 20 shots per bottle. That's 400 bucks a bottle.

I charge you 200 bucks a bottle.

100.150.

100.

Your people and the bargaining.

Buck 25.

My people.

You better hope my people order this stuff

or you're giving me a full refund.

You start comping this to your best customers.

Word will get around that a couple shots of it,

you'll be fucking like rabbits.

Dogs. Fucking like dogs.

Only pussies wanna fuck like rabbits.

That's what I'm talking about.

Well. All right, then.

How fast can you deliver?

Uh, say next week?

Let's say two days.

Again with the bargaining.

Ramadan's coming.

Yes.

I found her.