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So you said let's do the show about the horse,

- but this time without the horse. - I know, I'm sorry.

And I said, "That's a terrible idea."

And you said, "I got someone even better." I got...

- What's this asshole's name again? - Vincent D'Onofrio.

- And here we are. - Okay. Action!

Hey, Zoe. Hey, Zelda.

- I forgot my boombox. - And your deodorant.

Pee-yew, mister.

- Zoe, that's no way to get adopted. - Adopted, by me?

Children, I'm a single breakdancing instructor

who can barely take care of himself.

Plus, I'm too rad to be a dad.

Ooh!

And shake it up. Hah!

Cut!

It's fine, Katrina.

If I didn't randomly wander into doors all the time,

I never would have ended up co-piloting the very plane

that brought me to Los Angeles.

Excuse me, didn't you see the flashing red light outside the door?

Of course. That's why I stopped...

what I was doing to come inside.

Ooh, are you filming a sitcom? I love sitcoms!

You should have a character say, "Talk to the hand."

The hand! Not the face, where the ears are.

Newsflash: hands can't hear.

What do you mean the character needs to be more likable?

They don't teach likability at the American Stanislavski Theatre.

Look, this is not about your acting.

You don't want an actor, you want a blank canvas

upon which to project your own mawkish notions of goodness.

Some man for all seasons up for a bit of anything...

cheerful, optimistic, indomitable.

I assure you no such man exists.

But you're welcome to keep looking.

This D'Onofrio has had enoughfrio.

- Hah hah! - Hmm.

But my favorite scenes are when a character

is completely oblivious to something

really important going on behind him.

That, dear friends, is where the sit truly hits the com.

- Excuse me. - Kind of in the middle of something.

- He's yakking away, tension's building... - Hey, you, sir.

... the audience is like, "Hey, turn around."

Maybe the person behind him even interrupts him...

- Can we talk to you for a second? - Just like that.

And then, when it would be ridiculous to go on

even one second longer...

- My name is David Chase. - Do you mind?

Only then does he say, exasperated,

"What? What do you want?"

I want your face on billboards, you beautiful nonsensical clown prince.

Doggie-doggie what now?

Kid, how'd you like to be the star

of "Untitled Horsin' Around Knockoff"?

Me, a star? But I have no experience, no formal training.

Hey, you, you don't need any of those things.

You got "it."

Ohh...

Hey, BoJack, it's me again.

Hmm?

I haven't heard from you in, like, three months,

so I'm calling again to make sure you're okay.

What's new with me?

Well...

Monocle? No, I think you're thinking of Mr. Peanut.

I don't know if you heard

but Mr. Peanutbutter is running for governor, kind of.

I want a comprehensive crisscross of cold calls to Contra Costa County.

I mean, Christ, people, get me signatures.

First, they need to get Woodchuck Coodchuck-Berkowitz recalled,

which is basically impossible.

So that actually makes it really easy for me to be supportive.

- How's the recall effort? - Stupendous!

Uh, no. We're about 4,000 signatures shy of stupendous,

and the deadline's in a week.

Even if you don't get all the signatures, I'll still be proud of you.

Maybe even more so.

But when we do get the signatures we need...

- please note I said "when," not "if"... - Noted.

... then the campaign will begin in...

oh, where did you say again, Katrina?

Earnest. When we get the signatures,

the campaign will begin in earnest.

Right. Earnest, California.

Earnest is not a city in Cal... Why do I try?

Looks like you two have everything worked out.

Just please note that I am being supportive.

Noted!

Most women wouldn't like having their husband's ex-wife

hanging around all the time, but I'm totally cool with it

because she makes me look super chill by comparison.

Oh, uh... okay.

Anyway, call me back.

This is Diane, by the way. Nguyen, obviously.

You sure you wouldn't rather just play a governor

in a movie or TV show?

I could attach Tommy Schlamme to direct.

Tommy Schlamme, shmommy Schlamme.

This is bigger than all that. Don't you recall?

- Recall what? - The governor. We need signatures.

Oh, sure. Where do you stand on the issues?

Oh, he doesn't stand anywhere on issues

because he's not running for governor yet.

I'm mainly for people right now and also for the future.

Listen, I'm not feeling so hot.

Why don't you go get signatures downstairs.

Jennifer Garner's in the lobby. She'll sign on to anything.

Judah! Can I get your John Wilkes Hancock?

Oh, I never developed a signature.

I find them unnecessarily ostentatious.

But I can print my name legibly.

Thank you, Rain Man-bun. That'll do nicely.

Okay.

Ralph dropped this off for you.

"I always make a beeline to see my feline." Aww!

Also, you wanted me to remind you

about FX's American Dead Girl miniseries.

Oh, that's right! What train wreck are we rubbernecking at this year?

They're doing the Sarah Lynn story

and they're looking for someone to play BoJack.

Oh!

Well, as I was saying, FX is looking for a BoJack Horseman...

Ugh!

Horseman... Ho...

So, as we discussed earlier,

is this one of the moments where you would want privacy?

You know what I'd do if I had eight million dollars?

- Yeah, you'd give it to the waitress. - Oh, no, no, no.

I mean, if I had eight million dollars now,

I'd start a company that makes remote-controlled drones.

But these drones have a seat hanging from the bottom

so you can fly around in it.

A drone with a throne. A drone throne.

But if you're in it, isn't it not a drone?

I feel like you're getting really hung up on labels.

Well, anyways, with my eight million dollars

I'm starting a new dating app just for firemen

and redheaded women named Emily.

Aww, you don't need an app, just hang out with me.

Todd, you're great.

What a way to end a sentence.

But I want a boyfriend who isn't asexual.

Whoa. Why did you call me that?

No, no, it's not bad. I didn't mean it negatively.

- I was just, like, stating it. - I'm not... that word doesn't describe...

Okay, okay, I'm sorry, whatever you call yourself,

you're my friend and I support you.

But sometimes labels can be helpful.

Wow. Well, I would label this conversation "rough".

Here's the check.

And this cow likes getting tipped.

Hey, BoJack, it's me again, voicemail number 17.

Did I tell you I'm working at a blog?

I wrote a story about an all-girl refugee kickball league.

It didn't get as many clicks as Gillian's story

about how in certain pictures

you can see the outline of Chris Hemsworth's penis

but, you know, we're all contributing in our own ways.

Anyway, it's weird not having you around.

I hope you're okay, wherever you are.

"I'm so smitten with my favorite little adult cat."

Oh! I love it.

I'm sorry I couldn't make it

to the Paul Blart 3: Till Death Do Us Blart premiere last night.

I had a doctor's appointment.

- Whoa. Is everything okay? - Yeah, yeah, it's fine.

I don't like not knowing where you are,

especially when we live three freeways

and an unprotected left turn away from each other.

I was thinking, what if you move somewhere closer to me,

like into my house?

Oh. Wow!

Would you, could you, with a mouse?

I... I could, and I would, but it's not a good time.

Oh, okay.

- I'm sorry. - No, no, it's fine. There's no hurry.

- We're still young, right? - Oh, yeah, I'm super young.

Blake Lively accidentally called me Mommy yesterday,

but I'm sure she does that to other young women all the time.

Churro-flavored waffles!

Huh?

Drone Throne.

Whoa, whoa!

Okay, Todd. Whoa!

Oh, God, today's the day.

I haven't been this nervous since Diane was vacuuming

during a thunderstorm on the Fourth of July,

I had to take a bath, and there was a stranger in our yard.

There's no need to be nervous, or calm for that matter

because you've already lost.

We're 1,600 signatures short and the clock runs out at 9:00 AM.

So it's gonna take a miracle, huh?

Oh, no! It's over.

Everyone can get out of my house now.

Ooh, tough break, kid. We're all in shock.

McG! Are you still looking for a star

for your transgender Teddy Roosevelt

Planes, Trains and Automobiles reboot,

Plans, Trans, A Man, A Canal, Panama?

Because someone just became available.

Whoa! Whoa!

I don't understand what happened.

Let me put it in terms your dumb dog brain can comprehend.

All your life people have been throwing you bones

because they like you,

but everyone has a ceiling to their likability.

This is a bone you can't have,

because people just don't like you enough.

- I'm sorry, Mr. Peanutbutter. - You know, it's funny.

Personally I like Woodchuck and he's a fine governor,

but for some reason, even though I have zero qualifications,

I honestly thought I would have made an even better governor.

- Well, what matters is you tried. - But I would have been good, right?

Now that there's no chance you will ever be governor,

I can tell you honestly...

Yes. You would have been great.

Stop. But seriously, though, elaborate.

You care about people, you follow your heart.

Those are important qualities you should never give up on.

So what you're saying is I shouldn't give up?

- On those qualities. - Yeah. Never concede.

- Stick it out, stay in the race. - Uh... no...

Uh, maybe we should get Katrina's two cents on this.

- Katrina? - Race. That's it, Diane!

You diabolical Thin Mint.

You, and only you,

are responsible for the great thing I am about to do.

Katrina?

Thank you, thank you.

Moments ago I found myself in what seemed to be a no-win situation.

But it turns out it was a "Nguyen situation."

I'm referring of course to my supportive wife Diane Nguyen,

who told me to never give up!

And that's why I am challenging Woodchuck Coodchuck-Berkowitz

- to a ski race down Devil's Mountain. - What?

No more petitions or fancy ballot initiatives,

just a mano a mano, no-holds-barred slippery slalom

down an ice-covered peak.

Winner gets to be governor, loser goes home.

Your move, Governor. Mic drop!

Aaah!

What the hell is he talking about?

It sounds like he's challenging you

to a ski race down Devil's Mountain.

What an absurd conceit. Do I even need to respond to this?

No, sir.

Because I'd rather focus on my drought relief optimization

using geohydration technology, or DROUGHT plan.

If I know anything, this story will go away in a couple of days.

Now Mr. Peanutbutter,

you challenged Woodchuck to a ski race a month ago.

Not just any ski race, a high-stakes dash down Devil's Mountain

- for the governorship itself. - But still no comment from the governor.

Why won't he race you? That's what I want to know.

You and me both, friendo.

But this isn't an us-ocracy, it's a dem-ocracy.

- Ooh! - So let's ask "dem" what "dey" think.

Any questions for the governor, folks?

Why won't Woodchuck race?

So, to be clear, my DROUGHT plan is actually a drought relief plan.

I see now how that's confusing. Any other questions?

Are you going to race Mr. Peanutbutter?

Any questions about the DROUGHT plan?

To ski or not to ski?

That was the question posed by William Shakespeare

and it's perhaps even more relevant today.

Of course, there are reasons why a gubernatorial election

should not be decided by a ski race,

but are there also reasons why it should?

For the sake of "fairness"

we've brought in two experts with opposite opinions

who will now have equal time to just say those opinions

because that's what news is.

You think they'll really race down Devil's Mountain?

What do I care? As long as I've got my giant bag of kettle corn,

that's the only thing that concerns me.

- What the? - Drone Throne strikes again! Ha ha!

Get back here with my kettle corn!

You can't call it a drone if you're riding on it.

Suckers! Hooray!

Ha ha! Oh... oh, no!

Aw, man.

I was hoisted by my own petard,

the one petard I thought would never hoist me.

Unprecedented poppycock.

This poppycock has no precedent.

Maybe it's time to make a statement.

Madeline, no.

This outlandish buffoonery is beneath the office of the governor.

I can't defile the legacy of my predecessors

who built the Golden Gate Bridge, irrigated the Central Valley,

and played Mr. Freeze in a Batman movie.

Can't you see this thing is eating you alive?

Do it for us, Woodcharles. Do it for us.

And so this ski race would be both undemocratic and unconstitutional,

which is why I will not be racing

Mr. Peanutbutter down Devil's Mountain.

What if the state constitution were changed to allow it?

- Then would you race Mr. Peanutbutter? - I...

Fine. If a state senator wanted to waste everybody's time

by sponsoring an amendment to the constitution,

and the motion got two-thirds majority in both houses

so as to allow a democratically-elected governor

to accept a ski race challenge for his office,

then yes, I would race Mr. Peanutbutter.

Well, I guess that puts that idea to bed, right?

- Hmm. - Right?

- Hmm... - Right?!

You want me to sponsor a ski race amendment to the constitution?

Or you could sponsor the amendment that has a hidden rider

doubling farm subsidies in your district.

- Inglewood could use some farms. - That's right.

I do have these campaign donors... uh, I mean, constituents

who really care about babies' access to vaping devices.

Uh-huh.

I've always wanted to drive across a bridge to Hawaii.

- Can we do that? - You got it.

Aloha!

Hoo hoo hoo hoo! Whoo!

It tickles.

I'm astounded that it has come to this.

But since the exorbitantly expensive

and astonishingly titled I Love California amendment is now law,

I formally accept Mr. Peanutbutter's challenge to a ski race.

It happens that I'm an excellent skier

who won numerous medals in the sport when I raced for Dartmouth

but, again, I am shocked that fact is relevant

in the matter of selecting our state's governor.

Mr. Peanutbutter, I will see you on Devil's Mountain.

- Whoa! - This is insane.

You could actually become governor by winning a race.

Yeah. Wow.

You know, it's days like this I wish I knew how to ski.

- You don't ski? - Never really got into it, no.

Then why did you challenge the governor to a ski race?

I didn't think it would get this far.

You gotta admit, this is pretty out there.

Well, I guess that's it. Oh, well. Tough break. Bye forever, Katrina.

No, this is not over. This is just beginning.

Mr. Peanutbutter, you're going to ski school.

Doggie-doggie what now?

Hey, BoJack, it's me again.

Where are you, I'm worried,

hope you're not dead, etc... you get it.

Anyway, things are even crazier around here lately.

Don't know if you've seen the news,

but I really wish you were here for this.

Well, I'm off to ski school so I can learn how to ski,

so I can become the governor.

You'd say something like,

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

Sounds great, sweetheart.

But as the old saying goes, that's politics.

Then you'd probably say, "A, that's not an old saying

and, B, that's not politics! Nothing about that is politics."

This is so great!

Then you would be so overwhelmed

by the unbearable ludicrousness of the situation

that you would get in your car and drive to Hawaii,

which is also a thing you could do now

because of a new bill that cost our state billions of dollars.

It's all so great!

You know, it's funny, because the last time I saw you

you told me that you needed me in your life,

and then you just disappeared.

So how do you think that makes me feel?

Well, wherever you are, I hope you're happy.

I really do, BoJack.

Also, I haven't seen Todd in a while. He's not with you, is he?

Oh, simple kettle corn.

Between the worlds of the sweet and the savory.

Not quite popcorn, not quite candy.

What are we?

Hey, get away! Get, get!

Wow, my first day at ski academy.

What collegiate shenanigans will befall me?

There will be no shenanigans on my watch.

Professor Thistlethorpe,

the famously humorless yet somehow also lovable ski instructor?

Peanutbutter, is it? Everything about you disgusts me.

Uh...

And yet, there might be something in you after all.

You really mean it?

This shall be my greatest challenge.

Meet me on the summit tomorrow at daybreak.

Well, it is daybreak and here we are at the summit.

First lesson, break your skis in half.

Oh, I don't have skis. Was I supposed to bring skis?

- You didn't say that. - No bother. They shan't be required.

Instead, read this book of poetry.

I'll see you in the classroom.

Ah, there you are. Did you read the book of poetry?

No! I forgot to.

- Excellent. - I'm sor... Excellent?

My assignment was a test.

Skiing isn't about reading old books.

- It's about speaking truth to power... - Oh!

... and you have spoken it eloquently.

You are my finest student.

I love you.

- Are you okay, professor? - Just a cough.

I'm sure it's nothing. You can come by tomorrow for your diploma.

I can't believe ski school is already over.

Professor Thistlethorpe? Professor Thistlethorpe!

Remember everything I taught you.

I will.

Also, if you have any tips for skiing, that would be really helpful.

The most important part of skiing

is to keep your legs ben...

Who's Ben?

Devil's Mountain is the place, skiing is the sport.

I'm uncomfortable. It's cold out.

Tell me, who do you think will win today's bout

and what does it mean for the future of California?

I hate winter sports.

I want to go inside and drink a cider.

And they're off!

Woodchuck, off to a great start.

Mr. Peanutbutter seems to be employing

some sort of awkwardly falling down technique.

- Any sign of them? - Nothing yet.

- Oh! I made you a card. - You did?

Oh, wow, it's sparkly.

Sorry, I went a little overboard with the glitter

and a little underboard with the glue.

"Let's move in together. I think I'm ready now."

This is great. Are you sure, though,

because last time you seemed a little hesitant.

- No, I was just a little pregnant. - Oh!

I was gonna tell you, really,

but then before I could tell you there was nothing to tell you.

Oh.

I'm so sorry. I still wish you would've told me.

I have a card for that. On the front it says, "Life isn't fairage."

I'm sorry. I just felt dumb because all my life I've wanted a family.

But I didn't want it to happen just because I got pregnant by accident

- and then you got stuck with me. - Okay, first of all,

if I get stuck to something, you're the prettiest glue trap I ever saw.

- You know what I mean. - Second, if that's how you feel,

maybe you shouldn't get pregnant by accident.

- Well, I didn't try to! - No.

I'm saying maybe we should get you pregnant on purpose.

- Really? - Yeah.

We love each other, and we enjoy having sex with each other...

and we're good at having sex with each other.

And also, I think you'd be an amazing mother.

Even Blake Lively thinks so.

Ah, still got it.

Yes!

Whoa! Whoa-ho-ho!

Ohh! Get control.

Woodchuck in the lead, still in the lead.

Woodchuck remains very much in the lead.

Goodbye, dear friend.

You served me well.

Okay, all right, here we go.

Mr. Peanutbutter?

Ohh!

I see Woodchuck!

Yes!

Go, Woodcharles!

Oh... whoa... Whoa!

Oh, my God.

Todd forever!

Whaa!

Ow, ow, ow, ow!

Invictus!

Ooh! Ooh.

Oh... ohh.

- Did I win? - Come on, honey.

Let's go home.

Well, I hope that settles it.

We can finally put an end to this nonsense.

Sir, the rules are clear:

the first person to cross the finish line becomes governor,

and, well, a strange boy fell out of the sky

and crossed the line first.

They're swearing him in now.

- So help me Todd. - Congratulations, Governor Chavez.

You know, ever since I first became governor

I've thought, "I don't want to be governor"

and that's where I am now.

So, can I not be governor?

You'd like to resign?

Yeah. I'm just really not into labels right now.

Maybe after some soul searching I'll be ready to really know what I am.

But for right now, I think I speak for all Californians

when I say, "I ate too much kettle corn

while drifting through the sky on an out of control drone throne."

Okay, is this charade over? Can I be governor again?

Sir, we live in a society of laws.

When a governor resigns, that triggers a special election.

Until which, the governor's seat shall remain vacant.

Election, you say?

Mr. Peanutbutter, will you run?

- You bet I will, and you know why? - No, tell me.

Because this whole ski race was a joke.

Of course Woodchuck was gonna beat me. He went to Dartmouth.

So where's the candidate for regular schmoes like me,

- who went to Northwestern? - Is he serious right now?

You know, Governor Woodchuck Coodchuck-Berkowitz

thinks he's better than us, but is he better than us?

- No! - Uh, if I could say a few words...

He thinks the race is over.

Well, I say it's just starting.

And he wants me to sit and stay and roll over?

- No! - I say California's tired of rolling over.

What do you say?

- Yeah! - I'm tired.

I say it's time for me to stand up and speak.

Diane-Diane what now?

So loud as you can, let me hear what you want.

Peanutbutter! Peanutbutter!

- Uh, citizens... - I can't hear you!

Peanutbutter! Peanutbutter!

Peanutbutter!

- Peanutbutter! - Friends, some decorum, please.

- Peanutbutter! Peanutbutter! - Ah!

Peanutbutter! Peanutbutter!

Peanutbutter! Peanutbutter!

- The mailbox belonging to... - BoJack Horsemack...

- Horseman... oh, wait, how do I... - ... is full. Goodbye.