Original subtitles

Previously on Weeds.

Don't want to be doing this.

Whole reason I hired you.

Why didn't you just call Demetri?

With his idiot entourage.

Just sell your weed to Kiku.

I'm coaching the twins' derby team.

Take a seat.

You're distant.

I need to know that you are actually in this thing with me.

Go for it. Let it all out.

Do not follow me. We're done, Andy!

Connoisseur combo pack.

Thanks, Mike. I'll ring him up.

- You work here? - R.J.

Are you having a play date?

- So, is your brother in security? - Police Academy.

Name is Detective Ouellette, 25th Precinct.

Mom, this is Angela.

It's so neat to meet you.

- What was that? - Oh, hey, Nance. Sweet fort, huh?

What was that noise?

The Russians, just moved in two doors down.

The wife's a real sizzling piece of assmeat.

The guy is terrifying, real Eastern Promises shit.

- Each tattoo is someone he killed. - What was the boom?

They're cutting down all the trees on their property.

It's a Soviet thing, mastery over nature.

Hey, Paco, quit bogarting all the fruity pebbles.

Hey, guess how many Glade Pluglns I got yesterday.

Stevie is just staring at the TV.

Seventy-five. And guess how much it cost me.

He's not gonna be some kind of TV zombie.

$14. In your face.

Stew Leonard's grocery fat cats. They call it extreme couponing, and it is.

They are right.

Please go back to screwing Andy.

I'm couponing because we have no money.

Doug's cash is all tied up in that fake charity,

and you and Andy don't make dick. I have no skills.

- We're really broke? - Yes.

Stevie should be playing soccer, not watching it.

I tried to enroll him in that fancy city league at Ashford Park,

but, apparently, I missed the deadline by two weeks.

Those uptight pricks.

Aunt Nancy, someone named Kiku called three times.

- What did she want? - She said it was personal.

She sounded like she'd been drinking.

Who is she? Did the bullet make you a lesbo?

Lesbo?

Come on, Stevie. Let's get dressed. We're gonna go sign you up for soccer.

- Does she like you? - I think she does.

You'd know, 'cause women release a pheromone.

- Bullshit. - No, it's true.

You smell it with your brain, not your nose. But there are detectable signs.

Their pupils dilate, their pelvis orients towards you.

They point their cooch at you?

It's involuntary. It's like a weather vane.

Like a newborn kangaroo crawling to the pouch.

Gross.

We're all just animals, Shane, red in tooth and claw.

Why are you so nervous, anyway?

I really like this girl.

See you later, man. Good work.

I know. Take her on a double date.

That'll alleviate the pressure of having to be...

You know, a normal person.

- Can you come? - Sorry, buddy.

Me and Jill are on the skids, splitsville.

How was she in the sack, Aunt Jill?

You are so broken.

- Did you just have a sleepover? - Shut up. We were working late.

Working on each other's dicks.

Hey, how's your narco girlfriend?

Or did she finally notice the cold, dead marbles

where your eyes should be?

We happen to be going on a double date tonight, so fuck yourself.

Kiss my ass.

Not with your friend's jizz all over it.

I miss my brother.

Shit. I got to go to the derby track.

Would you tell Jill I'll be... Never mind.

She doesn't care. Neither do you.

Look at these people, moving in, ruining the neighborhood.

I know. It's a goddamn shame.

I'm really sorry, but both the Ninjas and the Transformers

already have full squads.

Please don't punish my kid for my sister's screw-up.

Screw-up?

Apparently, she missed the cut-off.

No. No, no, no, no. They just tell people that.

Look, Old Sandwich is a wealthy place.

There's a high demand for slots on our teams,

and they usually end up going to families who are able to make sizable donations.

Kickbacks? In youth soccer?

So, unless that's gonna be feasible, then...

There is another league down in Hartford.

No, I got you, Gordon. Understood.

Got what?

This is a "whites only" league.

This is not a "whites only" league.

Hey, I don't like Mexicans, either.

I just happened to have gotten knocked up by one.

The sperm, though, it is muy macho.

We need to go talk to the local newspaper.

What did you say your last name was, again, Gordon? Gordon what?

Wait, wait.

Hey! How would you like to be a Ninja?

- Yeah. - Yeah.

Come on. Let's go find you a uniform, buddy.

Oh, here.

Used to have one just like it.

How are you?

Cramping, bloated.

I'm sorry. Or congratulations. I don't know.

Clear!

So, I guess that means you can't go out tonight?

Women can accomplish a shocking number of things

while sloughing endometrial lining, Shane.

Clear!

I was thinking a double date, or double hang.

Not date, whatever you want to call it.

Wait, so, not a date?

Cadet Mullen, you're dead.

Son of a whore!

I'm confused. Is that a yes?

Yeah. Okay.

Cut it out, rookies.

Hello?

Hello?

What the hell?

It is a shockingly common occurrence in my life

that women are gifted unto me, seemingly with very little effort on my part.

And at a certain point, after the ludicrous bounty,

you have to finally wonder, "Why?"

Okay-

Is it because I'm so just baseline physically attractive?

Debatable. More likely, it's 'cause of this,

karma.

I motherfucking earned it.

I was the fecal molecule of a maggot 50 lives ago,

49 lives ago, a parasite on a sea cucumber,

worked my way up from there, paying my reincarnatory dues,

coral, an earwig, a sewer rat,

a grackle, guinea fowl, clown fish, ocelot,

eventually vaulting up the evolutionary chain to dog,

but like a shitty small dog

felled immediately by parvo or canine SIDS,

monkey, monkey, down to otter, monkey, chimp,

and then finally human!

But... Whoops! Fuck! I'm a child sex slave, and I live in a well.

But in all these incarnations...

I was good and kind and humble and accepted my fate patiently.

So, thus.

After an endless series of short, oft brutal lives,

I was finally, finally, finally born as me,

Andrew Botwin, effortless receiver of tail.

It's just a theory, of course.

But if it's not biology and it's not karma,

then there is a puppet master out there who enjoys watching me get my freak on,

and that would mean God, basically,

and I would have to rethink, well...everything.

If you can catch me, you can fuck me.

Yeah, I'll get my skates.

This is my third time around.

It's my first. Best decision I ever made.

Is it a decision? I mean, I guess it is. But even when it is, is it really?

All I know is, I was 100% self-centered before Colby,

and now everything's about him.

Hustle, Colby! Make Daddy proud, buddy.

- Nice orange slicing. - Which one's yours?

The slow idiot who just got smoked by that new kid.

Who is that? Some housekeeper's kid?

I don't know, but he's fast.

Somebody cover him!

Go, go, go! Stevie, go, go, go! Go!

Good boy!

Gordon.

You are so good!

How did you get to be so good? Are you having fun?

Come on, new kid.

Hi.

Your son's gonna be in the goal for the rest of the match.

Why?

'Cause he's making our sons look like sacks of shit.

Competition's healthy.

A fair competition. Your son has an unnatural advantage.

They're practically born kicking a soccer ball down there,

whatever they play with. Grapefruit.

Jesus, Jeff.

So, what do you say? Goalie's a fun position.

Sure. Why not? Stevie.

Listen, I'm sorry about Jeff. He's an asshole.

Go, go, go, go! Go!

Oh, Jesus Christ.

- Oh, sweet Mary... - Son of a...

Guess it is just in his nature.

So, we'll be getting that donation from you soon?

Oh, Gordon, what would the newspaper say?

He owns the paper.

I'm on the team now! I'm a Ninja!

Donation. No problem.

So, I was reading about a 420 affiliate program

where your website is linked in cross-promotions

with other marijuana-based sites.

- I signed us up. - Are you fucking kidding me?

- No. Why'? What? - We're artisans, Silas.

We don't advertise on the Internet. People come to us.

All right.

Artisans...

I'm telling you,

as soon as we make a sale, I'm buying my own place.

Why? You have a free grow house.

No, I can't take my fucking brother. He never lays off.

You should have heard him this morning when you left.

- What'd he say? - Oh, idiot shit.

"You guys are fucking faggots," that kind of stuff.

- What a little asshole. - I know, right'?

But, you know, it's true, every guy should suck a dick at some point.

- Fuck off. - I'm not kidding.

It's like getting in direct contact with the essential maleness in yourself.

It's really powerful.

Plus, just the sheer volume of tedious shit you have to put up with

just to get a girl to suck your dick, it's, like, forget it.

And trust me, afterwards, I'm not gonna be all like, "Oh, let's cuddle!"

I'll be like, "Sweet hummer! High five!

"Let's get back to work."

Whoa. Look at your face.

Never mind. I thought maybe, I thought maybe you...

Forget it.

Oh, geez. I got to go help Stevie with some homework.

Come on, man. Don't be like that.

Look, I don't care what you are, all right?

- I just... I'm not. - I'm not, either.

I'm just saying I'll suck a buddy's dick

'cause it's a fucking friendly thing to do.

I'm not all hung up on it, like you obviously are.

No, yeah, it's just I got to go.

Fuck.

I can't speak as to why those other women whip off their clothes for you,

but I can tell you why I did.

Why?

'Cause you never shut up about the women in your life.

I mean, most guys just talk about themselves.

You talk about them.

I guess maybe those other women, like me,

maybe they just wanted someone to talk about them

as much as you talk about Jill and Nancy.

Also, my girlfriend's visiting her folks and my TiVo's out of Law & Order.

Maybe it's the bullet? I don't know, this just isn't me anymore.

I'm gonna need you to buy me out.

Turns out going straight costs a lot of money.

Apparently, so does soccer.

Oh, hey, it's what's-her-name!

All right, let's do everybody.

Oh, honey.

This is why I've been calling you.

Today would have been my dad's 60th birthday.

I'm very vulnerable today.

And these guys came to deliver. You wouldn't pick up your phone.

My dad wore glasses, too.

Happy birthday, Daddy.

That's a pretty flower.

Tiger orchid. Here.

- I need you to get me out of here. - What?

While we were all in there, I suddenly caught myself in the mirror

and realized, "What the hell am I doing with my life?"

I have three semesters of creative writing at Bristol Valley Community.

I'm scared of my brothers. I think they might have brain damage.

So, I'm gonna go.

Just estimate what my half of the business is worth

and just bring it over, okay?

Thanks. I'm sorry about your dad.

Use many condoms.

Please take me with you.

Hey, what are you whispering about over there?

Nothing.

Mama, look.

Yeah, okay.

All right, let's go.

Beatrice wins.

Oh! Bullshit!

It's true. She won.

That was a good game. Let's go get that coffee now.

Fucking women siding with each other. All my goddamn life.

My ex-wife sides with my other ex-wife.

My goddamn lady lieutenant believing Carla from the fucking motor pool

that I sexually harassed her?

I mean, in what Obamacare, iPad, fruit-of-the-month club fucking world

does cupping an ass once constitute fucking sexual harassment?

I mean, come on.

You know they got instant replay now for fucking home runs?

Here's your instant replay.

That fucking home run was a home run or not

based upon my fucking judgment.

Tough shit. Fuck you. Next batter. I mean, right?

And you, I mean, you're a...

I don't know what you are, sweetheart, but you got to back off on that Obama shit.

Yeah.

Do you know that 1 PP wanted to fucking switch

all the fucking cars in the fucking fleet to Priuses last year?

Actually, that was a false rumor.

Having the whole NYP-fucking-D driving around in oversized golf carts.

"Excuse me, sir. I got to pull you over here." And then, bingo!

That little motherfucker is halfway up the Saw Mill River Parkway.

I mean, come on!

There are entire continents in fucking Africa that are fucking dying of AIDS.

And the fucking Pope, he's just sitting around on his balcony

saying that condoms are evil! That motherfucker!

I like Obama.

He reminds me of Harry Belafonte.

This is what I'm talking about here, you know?

You don't need a fucking high-class restaurant

gouging you for fucking money.

This is nice, is all.

Yeah. Life's been hard lately.

I got those Eskimo pies in the freezer. I'll go get them.

I found a loophole in a triple-coupon offer from Waldbaum's,

so they had to pay me five cents for each roll of paper towels.

I bought 200 rolls.

They don't actually pay you, but still...

Congratulations?

But then they wouldn't all fit in the car.

And I had to leave half of them in the parking lot.

I think I've been trying to fill a hole in my heart

with extraordinary savings.

I miss you.

Yeah. I didn't know where that was going.

- What are those marks? - What? Oh...

This is funny.

I was having sex with this woman at the derby rink,

and she has these piercings, and they scraped.

Ouch.

- You broke up with me. - A few days ago.

Yeah.

And I waited until today.

Today? You had sex with a roller slut today?

I'm very close to feeling pure, intense, forever love with you.

The past is unimportant.

Face it. We both bring baggage to the table.

A few hours ago is not the past.

Well, I mean... Technically.

Wait. You don't understand. It's not my fault.

The things I do, there's a puppet master.

There is no fucking puppet master!

I wouldn't taunt him, Jill.

You have no idea the things he's capable of making you do.

Puppet master. It's trite, is what it is. He's just so goddamn predictable.

Take responsibility for your actions.

"We were broken up."

Yeah, well, I spent most of my marriage suppressing the overwhelming desire

to sit on the face of the Sparkletts driver. But did I do it'? No.

Because I'm an autonomous human who makes choices

and accepts the consequences, no matter how horrible they may be.

- Is this real life? - No. You're dreaming.

Now, go harder.

Aunt Nancy! Your lover is here!

Oh, good. You brought my money.

Until I met you, my life was perfect.

Sure, I had a minor cocaine addiction, but generally, things were swell.

Look, I'm sorry to leave you hanging, but I'm done.

And plus, I need to keep Stevie in soccer.

You want out? Me too. There. We're both out.

But you also want money?

There is no money.

If Doug and his idiot friend didn't skim it, it went back into the business.

Here's your golden parachute.

I hope I never have to see this boring fucking hippie drug

for as long as I live.

Goodbye, Nancy.

I'll miss your son's cock.

Legendary!

- Yeah! Yeah! - Oh, fuck! Fuck!

- Fuck, fuck, fuck! - Yeah!

This is a disaster. I'm sorry I brought you into this.

Yes!

Yes!

- What are you doing? - Checking your pupils.

You can't tell if I like you or not?

- So, I didn't blow it by bringing you here? - I come from a long line of cops.

They're all miserable, alcoholic hotheads.

So, I know all of this.

Now...

Take those off.

I brought you a towel.

I saw you didn't bring yours today, so...

Hi.

- I should explain. - Oh, no, no. Please. Please.

Someone should get some use out of this pool.

Anyway, it's supposed to be good for rehab, right?

It's a small town. Sometimes I work at the hospital.

It's a great pool.

Thank you.

I used to have a pool.

I'm gonna get out now.

I see you, up there, watching me.

- You are in my backyard. - True.

I'm a rabbi.

- So? - So, here. Sit.

Every time I get out of your pool...

I have this weird thing,

like maybe I'm gonna emerge a different person.

Tevilah.

Tevilah. It's like a Jewish baptism.

The pool is the mikvah.

The water is supposed to be brought in from a natural source,

not pumped in from a hose

and chlorinated once a week by an ex-con from Glastonbury,

but the idea is the same.

And you know what the cool thing is?

Unlike baptism, in tevilah,

you get endless chances to be new.

I thought I was new, but...

Maybe it was just the Vicodin.

I can't keep making the same choices.

Then don't.

The fuck?

What did you do with my plants?

I just got back from my date.

- Bullshit. - Want to smell my fingers?

Something happened to your plants? Why don't you ask your weirdo friend?

What's going on?

What the fuck?

- Code breaker! - I didn't mean to!

I guess we're even.

Not cool!

R.J.!

- Hello? - We're closed.

The fuck are my plants?

- What happened to you? - I realized I could feel things again,

so I asked this dude to punch me in the face a couple times,

and he went a little overboard.

What's the matter with you, man? Are you on drugs?

That's the point. Not anymore.

My parents have been drugging me since I was 13,

but I'm done wearing their blinders.

Just give me my plants, man.

I liked you. I thought you were kindred. But it turns out you're an oaf.

You have no imagination.

You see it as drugs to push, like it's merch.

Like my parents' pills- Crass, dead, merch-

But it's not dead. It's alive. It's ancient.

It knows things.

The plants pick you.

But you have to be ready. It is a battle.

You control them or they control you, and I saw it today.

You don't understand the gift you have, and you don't understand the plants.

They fucking take you down. It would end badly for you.

You couldn't see it, but I could, so now they're all gone.

You can thank me later. Or don't.

I don't need you anymore.