All language subtitles for Billions - 05x06 - The Nordic Model.BTX.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Previously on Billions...

You guys here...

Bobby Axelrod's spare fucking apartment.

With goddamned Van Goghs on the walls.

I can house your paintings in
a permanent tax-free state.

I'll store replicas,
so you can hang the originals.

Hey. One other thing
you can help me with.

You know my new artist... Tanner...

- Yeah.
- He's not working.

You know what? Let me talk to him.

I'll see what occurs.

- What's on your mind?
- Bobby Axelrod.

Specifically, an application he
submitted for a bank charter.

We would like you to stall the approval.

And then deny it.

Dad. What happened? What's wrong?

Nothing to worry about.

His kidneys. Renal failure.

How serious are we talking here?

They think he'll need a kidney
transplant in order to...

survive.

Fuck me...

You and me both...

Who's gonna go try and persuade
'em to walk away?

Lucky for me,
I was sleeping on my good side.

I rolled you over.

Wow.

You... uh...

That's good. You got me.

Don't do that.

Why?

Figure drawing,
it's art school "technique."

Copying.

It's like a rock band
doing a cover song.

I love a good cover.

You kind of can't beat

Manfred Mann's version of
"Blinded by the Light."

Yeah, well, you don't remember
anything else they did.

Well, I love this.

For what it reveals
about how you see me.

For what it reveals about us.

I want to keep it.

I-I don't, um,
want this stuff out in the world.

It won't be out in the world,
it'll be with me.

It feels like I'm the one who's
naked and under the covers.

That's why I want it.

I brought it out of you.

Now sign it...
and get back in here with me.

So Bobby Axelrod wants to be a bank.

But before we can ascend the heights,

we need your beatific blessing.

Mm.

So I am here as his banking sherpa.

To guide him through the craggy terrain

of the approval process.

Not least because of
the close relationship

you and I have, Madame Chairwoman.

Madame Chairwoman,
I need a letter from the SEC,

supporting my bank.

To allow me to fight for consumers

the way that I fight for my investors.

Like a ravening mountain lion.
Whose only prey is value.

Not according to the United
States government's prosecutors.

They say your prey is the
entire financial system.

And that when you're done with it,

not even the buzzards can find
anything left on the bone.

I was targeted.
By a vengeful individual.

He pursued me publicly, relentlessly...

oh, and wrongfully.

- Mm.
- And he lost.

His job. His standing.
His highest aspirations.

As people who line up
against me tend to.

And all the charges were dropped.

Yeah, in the end, the system worked.

As I have faith it will now.

Yeah, but we regulators
aren't big on faith.

We look at the record.

That is why Axe Cap plucked me

from your tender regulatory bosom.

Wait. So you're why he deserves
a clean bill of health, Spyros?

You know how I intuitively
located every speck

of financial dirt when
I was in-house for you?

How I harvested them
and laid them at your feet,

winning the title 'Mr. Roomba?'

Well, I have brought
these skills to Axe Cap

and vacuum cleaned every crevice.

We called you Mr. Roomba
because you sucked.

And snuck up on us. And creeped us out.

Haha, I certainly miss
the jocular banter...

And I see that you're
still parading around

in that knockoff Mensa pin.

I had wondered why you
were suddenly sporting that.

Was that your gimmick at the SEC?

You're a mountebank Mensa member...

I can assure you, this is...
this is very real...

Do you know why they
formed the Stock Exchange?

To keep out a crook,
a market manipulator.

William Duer.

Gave us our first panic in 1792.

But I guess you feel that we
could have skipped the effort

if we had you and your hoovering skills.

Look, I would, uh,
gladly smash in Spyros's head

with the Stock Exchange gavel if
that'd make you feel better...

Wouldn't make me feel worse...

But this isn't about him.

This is about the bank
that I'm trying to build.

The difference it will
make to our industry,

- to the economy.
- Mm.

You want to talk about why they
really formed the Exchange?

It was a club, not a cleanup.

A bunch of Francophiles
with mops on their heads,

who gave themselves the
sole right to trade...

at a commission that they set.

What we call price-fixing these days.

That's the gang that you're part of.

Now, I hate clubs, but if I have
to join one, I make it better.

And I make the clubhouse bigger.

And that's why you want
to give me this letter.

Sure, I'll write it myself.

On behalf of my 'gang.'

But it will warn the FDIC
and the Federal Reserve

that you have been a
regulatory armageddon.

Doesn't take a Mensa member
to see that they'd be crazy

to grant you a goddamned bank charter.

Gentlemen.

Did the SEC
bless you like a newborn?

Are we a bank?
We saw the Chairwoman leave

and have been waiting
to see you ever since.

I want my mahogany desk.

Settle for some fucking plywood.

One word: Spyros.

Second word: dickweed.

You blow the hunt, you don't get
to escape back to the cave.

Just an opening salvo,
we can find our way into...

Bad enough to wear this if it were real.

But a fucking fugazi?

I would have passed the test...

- Oh, my God.
- ...if I had had time to take it.

You actually want people
to think you're in Mensa?

Oh, Spyros,
you should really work on this.

Alright. Enough.

The world is arrayed
against us right now.

Against me.

I want to know what the rest of
you can do to show your value...

either by outperforming
or changing our footprint

to help make this bank happen.

You better have some fucking answers

the next time I ask...

because silence will
not be acceptable then.

There's an opportunity here.

To give Axe what his own team can't.

Sure. They're distracted

between becoming a
bank and earning and...

We show him we are where he should

put his investable cash...
not into some bank.

We make more money as he makes more.

We earn his loyalty, too.

That's not a trio that
should be seen together

unless something's seriously fucked.

It seems the liberty of our
tax haven is threatened.

We got a painting problem.

Hey! Hey, hey, hey!

You have a right to inspect,
not to remove.

Gotta get it out the
box to see what it is.

Well, will you wrap your meat
hooks with some kid gloves?

These are priceless works of art.

If they are damaged
even in the slightest,

an entire generation of youth

would be robbed of the
joy of their beauty.

Perhaps we can come to an
agreeable accommodation...

for the children.

For your children.

They didn't want money in their pockets.

Most dangerous thing in the world:

government employees who
don't hate their jobs

enough to take a bribe.

Doesn't seem to me like
a random fucking search.

Seems like it's targeted.

How did they even know
to go art hunting?

Axe-associate Danny Margolis
is something of a promoter.

This time it was him
trying to sell billionaires

on parking their paintings
with him, tax free.

You're saying he's using Bobby Axelrod

as his celebrity endorsement?

Along those lines.

- That's the inventory.
- Ah.

We could go after the whole concept,

try to get him on tax fraud.

Something poetic about taking
him down the same way as Capone.

But the laws on freeports are murky.

It's too much of a gamble...

I can't have us bring a case
just to have freeports upheld.

But this...

I see actual fraud here.

Van Gogh. What about it?

I'm fairly certain I've
seen this painting,

up close, in one of Axe's apartments.

Standard rich folk practice
is often to store the original

- and hang a replica.
- No.

There's a feeling you get
when you're in the presence

of the real thing, a work for the ages.

There's a weight to it, you know?

I do. You felt that?

I did.

I didn't like it at the time.
But I'm starting to now.

So how can one painting
be in two places at once?

It's my bad.

I thought it was a
business could be grown.

Not just your bad.

No. I brought you into this.

Also, I brought you into this.

If it was a business could be
grown and there's extra cream,

you're not the only
one who should wind up

light and sweet, fucko.

Alright. Let's not catalogue
all the internecine ways

you've fucked me and each other.

I'm cataloguing.

The replicas are in the freeport.

They can't be there when someone

who actually knows about art comes back.

In theory, the paintings in a freeport

are meant to keep circulating.

Port to port.
That's how you avoid taxation.

Sort of like the Stones in '72.

Good. Well, then let's make that
international tour a reality.

The real ones can't be back in my place.

I need to get with Hall
and disappear them.

Marithane.

You want a value multiplier, it is one.

What does it do?

What you need it to...
brings us back to the future.

And brings us um, like, filthy lucre.

That's like what you
guys would say right?

Instead of just: "We can make a
good percentage on our money."

You'd say: "Grab some filthy
dirty lucre" or something?

Anyway, this is a way to do that.

What does it actually do?

Harvests methane bubbling
to the ocean surface.

Whale farts? Please tell me
we're talking about whale farts.

Cracks in the seafloor.

- Right.
- How did you find it?

I built a toy, a social media scraper.

Analyzes the online
behaviors of leading VCs.

Basically, it tracks who they
suddenly decide to follow.

Interest in Marithane
is hockey-sticking.

Competition will be real.

We should get in there fast.

Lauren, set the pitch.

Ah!

Auspicious timing.

I was about to call you
to contact your doorman to let me in.

Now you can just do it.

For the purpose of?

Oh, Kevin left his Nintendo
thing in your apartment.

He really wants it for tonight.

Mind if I go up and rummage around?

- Oh, Chuck.
- Mm?

Must be going for shared-custody
father of the year.

Since you dropped everything,

in the middle of the day,
to find a doll.

Oh. Not a doll. Game.

And you know from separations.

It's as if you've forced your
kids to live in a gypsy caravan.

Least I can do is
recover the missing item.

- Or buy two of everything.
- Sure.

Is this a Chateau Haut-Brion?

It is. 2010.

Not normally a day drinker.

But I've always wanted
to taste this vintage.

King of wines, wine of kings...

Why it's my house red.

Would you mind spotting me a taste?

Alright, Chuck...

I'll keep looking for
the game if that's okay.

Yeah, I'll, uh, check
the bedroom he uses... in a minute.

Ah!

If it isn't the Dutch master himself.

"Noon - Rest From Work."

Hard to believe it's in private hands.

You know what I believe
Van Gogh is telling us?

Hmm?

Time to get back to our own work.

You know, it's hard to imagine
living with a piece like this.

I mean, I'm sure you're aware of

the forty-million- dollar elbow...

when Steve Wynn was
selling it to Steve Cohen

and accidentally poked a new
nostril in Picasso's "La Rêve."

Yeah. Well aware.

Both Steves felt bad about that one.

- Mm-hmm.
- And of course this one's worth

- a fuck of a lot more than forty.
- Yeah.

Which is why I only hang replicas.

Smart. Oh. I'd do the same.

Since I'm all elbows.

Oh! Fuck.

- Geez...
- Fucking clumsy of me...

But why so protective of a replica, Bob?

I'm happy to wipe it off.

Guess it...
Guess it almost seems real to me.

I should probably move them...
move them all out of here,

to a place where there's
no risk of clumsy guests.

Yeah. I like to pretend too.

You know, right now I'm pretending

I got guys downstairs,

watching everything come in and out,

all night long if I have to.

Well, that is a truly profound Brion.

But you're right...
time to get back to work.

Oh, and, uh,
let me know if that game ever turns up.

Hey. Where are you?
I got a major fucking problem.

Rhoades. I know.
He moved first and fast.

- Looking at options.
- Yeah.

Well, send me a restoration
and cleaning crew, now...

A Seurat, a Degas, multiple Van Goghs,

all on the fucking manifest...

Don't tell me that lucky
bastard has a Bob Ross, too,

or I'll really hate on the guy.

Keep a watch on the building...
front, back, and side doors.

Nothing in or out.
And you know your part.

Yep. Get a subpoena,

so we can have an authenticator

test the fuck out of those canvases.

We prove they're real,
we nail Bobby Axelrod on tax fraud.

Like an elbow through the bank charter

he's undoubtedly still pursuing.

That'll make me warm and
tingly in all the places.

Really will, Karl. Really will.

I'm surprised by the aggressiveness

of the sudden interest in our company.

It's warranted, but leaves me
with almost too much choice.

We are here to alleviate that burden.

You need a partner,
to help with your hardware expenses.

Each ship is like a startup of its own.

And with this much methane,
there's always a chance that...

One of them could go up
like a Molotov Cocktail?

- Yeah.
- We can provide you cash.

But looking at you,
I sense you need more than that.

You need... what is it,

the thing you're not saying,

the thing at the corner of your mind?

That would bring you some ease.

What will help you,
the human being, be your best.

How can we be that for you right now?

No one's asked that.

Let us do more than feel your pain.

I am having an issue.

A former employee walked out the
door with a piece of our tech.

Now, I don't want to sue...

The bad press and expense.

Yes. But he's out there with my tech.

You need him knocked out of the game...

Excuse me.

- You next?
- I am.

- Still prize efficiency?
- You know I do.

Then come with me.

No reason not to do a head-to-head.

Old friends here.
We might as well pitch together.

In fact,
I can even do Oscar's pitch for him...

I'm not saying the world's
divided into makers and takers.

I'm just saying: I'm a maker.

A product guy.

I've been in your shoes.

It can be scary.

And you're right to be scared.

There are bad people,
like Bobby Axelrod, out there.

And he corrupts everything he touches.

Including Taylor Mason.

Did I miss anything?

My charm?

I have missed that.

But no one spends more money
on green tech than big energy.

They have the resources,
the market is compelling them

to evolve, and yeah...

in many cases they've broken
the window needs fixing.

But Axe Cap has deep investments
and influence with them.

So what Oscar would call
corrupting influence,

I call the strategic partnerships

that will take you to tomorrow.

Well, um, that was compelling.

I apologize.
I didn't come prepared for this.

But I will be prepared going forward.

Not really what they want to
hear from their VC, is it?

You know, I don't mind the pinch,
but I don't like looking.

Why is that?

It represents your
life force flowing out.

Thank you.

Taking it to the lab now.

We should have results
for you by end of day.

I don't want to do this.

You do. You're honored.

Replace the blanks in this sentence

with two three-letter words
made from the same letters:

"The woman decided to blank
the beast where he lay

rather than blank him home."

She decided to blank...

it's a three-letter word?

Yeah, like this one:

F-U-K off so we can
all get back to work.

The words are gut and tug.

The questions are biased.

How are they biased?

You're asking them in a biased way.

You know the answer... or you don't.

I know the answers to questions

that you haven't even thought of yet.

- Okay.
- Just hit me

with another Mensa-type-mindbender.

If FL=6 and HX=15, what does ES equal?

Fourteen.

- That's right.
- It's a conspiracy.

Actually it's just the numbers of places

between the letters in the alphabet.

I cannot achieve genius
surrounded by jealousy.

You know we have a problem.

He failed the SEC meeting.

He's doomed to fail the Mensa exam.

In another man, this double ego bruise

might induce self-examination
or humility, but...

He's gonna lash out!

He'll red-flag all our trades

like the insecure,
vindictive douche he is.

Maybe he'll pass.

Maybe we're all just
underestimating him.

No, I've been quizzing him all day.

We're properly estimating him.

Thought you should know,
your ex is using your kids

as pretext to tear apart my property

like Keith Moon at a Holiday Inn.

The thing about him being my ex?

I don't need to apologize
for him anymore.

Someone else's past is a
thorn in our side right now.

- Oscar Langstraat.
- Hmm.

He's getting in the way of
Mase Carbon's latest play.

How's Taylor responding?

They seem ready to stomp
him like Big John Studd.

This happen to be a
Nico Tanner original?

Signed, no less.

You pose for this,
or was it from memory?

Why don't you call him and ask?

No, it's just it's the
first work I've seen of his

since I helped set up
his whole new life.

Now I know why he's
been so distracted...

You're about to get bounced out of here.

Well, since you're in there,

maybe you can see when I can
expect some art out of him.

Something that looks a little
bit more like Implosion.

You aware of Wendy and the artist?

As of now.

Let me worry about all things painted.

While you focus on
getting that bank charter.

Mm. Good idea.
With one small adjustment.

I'll focus on the art and the charter.

The freeport is the fucking bank.

It's Chuck's way of blocking it.

If I'm hit with tax charges,

you think the SEC will ever come around?

They're not coming around now.

Unless someone forces them to.

Krakow already shook us off.

Well this time we're tightening the rope

and digging in the spurs.

Anyone could have designed that toy.

But anyone didn't. You didn't.

Too simplistic.

Microchip was simple;
pasteurization too.

Both changed the world.

Not always about the degree
of technical difficulty,

sometimes it's about
insight and initiative.

No to the duh.

I showed that shit when I figured out

how to dump Mase Cap out
of non-green investments.

Oh, so this is a workplace

where it's cool if you
just bring it once?

I thought the idea was
to bring it every day.

Uh huh.

Yeah. So there's no chance that I'm a...

Okay.

Thank you for letting me know.

I'm not a match.

For Senior.

Damnit.

And why the hell aren't
you outside Axe's?

I got the McCluskey visit.

Pulled me from sitting on
the Don at the hospital.

Did everything short of busting my jaw.

- Who pulled you?
- New York's finest.

Showed me paper and everything.

Crap.

Yeah.

Sorry about your blood.

Uh...

You heard?

That you inserted yourself
into my fucking case?

Wanted you to get the
particulars straight from me.

The Axelrod tax fraud case is mine.

That's criminal behavior in Manhattan.

Literally my dominion.

The case straddles the line.

So you applied for a subpoena...

Mm-hmm. Before you did.

And I got it. What does that tell you?

You are well-connected
at the courthouse.

And backed by the governor.

Maybe this is the rare case
we could collaborate on?

I don't need your Axelrod
hard-on accidentally poking me.

I don't need you at all.

The apartment is now secured by NYPD.

The art authenticator's coming
in from Boston tomorrow.

But, hey,
I'm just handling the criminal case.

As always, Chuck, you are free
to follow up on any civil angle.

That looks like a woman
who just took from us.

Ah. You look like a woman
who's gonna help me take back.

We need to find a way to leverage Gramm.

Get her to leave Axe to me.

Looking for something professional?

Yeah. Let's start there.

I'm off to see Charles Senior.

My best to the old man.

That is what he demands.

I'm happy to keep you company.
But shouldn't your wife...

There are no women in the house.

I sent Roxanne to her people
until I get my strength back.

She married a virile bull,
not an invalid.

She loves you.

She can look at you and see you.

Love only makes the weak blind.

The staunch see with striking clarity.

Oh.

That must be why Sonny Crockett
always wore those shades, huh?

Listen, Dad, uh,

since the family has been
more inclusive of late,

now might be a good time to reach out

to any previously unreported bastards.

Just welcome them into
the ever-growing fold.

What bastards?

There are no such issue.

Comments like that are
how rumors get started.

And inheritances get diluted.

Ah, shit.

You're not a match, are you?

I'm not. No.

Yeah. Of course you don't have
my blood flowing in your veins.

If you did, you'd be
goddamned President by now.

Or the fucking Pope.

No, your arteries must
be filled with the same

watery gruel as your
mother's pinhead brother.

That's not okay to say about
somebody with microcephaly.

Or maybe anybody ever.

Do you know they...
they used to have a rating system

for mental infirmity?

We're all too polite for it now.

But that list told it
like it goddamned was.

A cretin was without a
thought in their head.

An idiot had the intellect
of a two-year-old child.

An average imbecile got up to seven.

And a moron could be as clever

as a feeble-minded twelve-year-old.

You pick your fucking title.

Good talk, Dad.

I'm sorry you're scared.

I'm sorry I didn't match.

And, uh,

I'm sorry for insinuating
there are bastards.

They didn't match either.

The D.A.'s subpoena establishes

that none of the art can
be moved until it's tested.

Can we move the prosecutor?

Nah. Gramm's immovable.

She made that clear over our
first plate of plantains.

Who will she use to authenticate?

The NYPD prefer a fellow named Hemlock.

They say the man can smell pigments.

They retained him on this case.

The aesthete will be here tomorrow.

At which point he'll authenticate

the canvases in your apartment.

At which point I'll be fucked.

Is it too late to pay the taxes?

Oh, come on...

- I'm just...
- Goodness, what a question...

Yes. Even if I were willing.
Which I'm not.

I've got an idea.

Orrin, that's your cue to
get the fuck out of here.

My wife, my third house,
and my law license thank you.

If only Bruce Cutler had a
friend like Bobby Axelrod.

What if we get Biblical.

That Old Testament, Hebrew lightning.

Hmm.

To smoke 18 canvases across
six thousand square feet,

even if I can hide the origin,
make it look electrical...

we'd be taking out the whole unit,

maybe half the building.

Well. That's a wide fucking range.

I can't make the fire
big enough to do the job

and small enough to be easily contained.

Then there's the variable
of the firefighters.

Will they get hurt? Will others?

Not hurting any firefighters.

Or destroying all that beauty.

Oh. That, too.

Houdini's Water Torture.

He was chained up in a
locked box filled with water.

We use the same move on the paintings

that he used to escape?

Wait, uh, didn't he die in that box?

Yes, which is where you're going

unless you figure out a way to fix this.

Margolis,

who else did you pitch the freeport to?

Uh...

Axe, if it were up to me,
you'd have ATMs in every ass crack.

But the SEC is an independent agency.

One that hates meddling,
loves leaking to the press.

Précisément.

This is the kind of thing
that leads to hearings,

investigations, public thrashing,

I need to be careful.

As careful as you've been
storing your Frank Stellas?

Where is all your art, by the way?
I don't see much of it here...

Margolis gave me a tip
about your freeport.

I assumed he gave you a taste...

Yeah. I don't care about any of that.
Not today.

But I should tell you,

there is gonna be a
freeport crackdown...

widespread.

Shit.

That's gonna cost me stacks.

Fucking IRS.

They have no respect for authority.

You got a workaround?

Not at the moment.

But I can help you offset your loss

by augmenting your collection.

You willing to part with
something from your own?

I can do you one better.

Get you a one-off, a singular commission

that's worthy of your greatness.

A portrait?

Nico Tanner, first and only.

Mm. He's gotten hot thanks
to you and Mike Prince.

Didn't know Tanner did
representational work.

Ah. Few have seen it.

But I happen to know it's good.

- Fucking great, actually.
- Hmm.

But I need you to rip a letter
on my behalf out of the SEC

and grease the skids to a charter.

For the original glamor shot? Sure.

But none of that Cubist bullshit.

I don't want my left
eyeball next to my nutsack.

How am I back here again?

My guess... you need something again.

Yes, for my father.

For you to take a blood test.

To see if you're a match.

What's the point, Chuck?

Oh, none really,
just saving a man's life.

What could be more pointless than that?

Even if I am the right blood type,

and then the right tissue type,
and then I cross-match,

and then a team of nephrologists
green-flags me onto the track,

your father's not getting my kidney.

I'm hanging onto them in case
our kids or my family need one.

Do you know our kids' blood types?

Don't even fucking think about it.

You see that?

You are still the only one

that actively stops me
from turning into him.

You'll never be him.

Yeah. I used to be sure
that was a good thing.

The reason I didn't
measure up to my father

was 'cause I didn't want to.

Good. He's warped.

Yeah? Is he?

I look around now and
he's the one who's happy.

He's the one surrounded
by loving family.

Maybe the reason I didn't measure up...

is because I couldn't.

I was too different.

On a cellular level,
I was a different and lesser man.

I'll hand it to him.

He wired you in a way

even I could never quite untangle.

You're racked with guilt.

Because I can't help him.

Or because you don't want to.

Wait. You think that I want him to die?

I think, maybe, you need him to.

Where should we begin?

From the way he let your uncle
'make a man of you, '

to the way he let you
know he'd tried her too.

Yeah. The hooker?

The sex worker. Yes.

That's what we must call them now?

I'm not gonna get into the semantics
of this with you right now.

Ask your colleagues who are
trying to make that fact law.

Or your girlfriend.

She's a renowned expert.

I need your library.

Thank you.

Is this for your class?

Uh, no. It's for yours.

The one you're about to teach me.

On prostitution.

Sex work.

Call it sex work,
because that's what it is, work.

Uh-huh.

Prostitution suggests
something criminal,

immoral... deviant.

Why the hell isn't it deviant?

Come at me.

Why?

Are you bringing a case on this?

No. It's more that the, uh, D.A. isn't.

She's quietly pushing decriminalization.

Good for her.

The Nordic Model is doing great
things to decrease stigma,

redistribute responsibility.

Why should the workers be
punished and not the patrons?

Yes, that's the stuff.

Make your best argument...
and then help me shred it.

I don't like this game.

This is my life's work.

I'm... I'm well aware it's not a game.

I need the D.A. off my turf.

That may require trampling on hers.

Have you ever even met a sex worker?

A long time ago, my father...

I don't want to get into it.

Just, please, help me argue
that the D.A. is hurting women.

When she's not?

You get to shift the Overton Window,

and sex workers can just
fall off the fucking ledge?

Cat, I could have come here
and lied about my motives...

but I didn't. I was honest.

That's new for me.

Well, then be honest about this...

Are you going to crack down,
or is this really just a threat?

Yes. Of course it's just a threat...

which I have to mean.

Otherwise it's not a very good threat.

Then I have to mean this one, too...

You can threaten the D.A.,

but if you make good on that threat,

your library privileges will be revoked.

Along with all the other privileges.

Capisce?

Good.

Read my book.

I blew your number out of
the water on Marithane.

2x'd you.

That's an overpay.

A substantial overpay.

In part to help cover the
costs of their patent issue...

but mainly to make a fucking point.

To you...

You'll do this every
time we go head-to-head.

It's my new mission.

This isn't how you normally do business.

Or speak.

You're exceptional.

You merited an exception.

I have learned, in dealing with people,
to be disarming.

I smile, I'm polite,
because I was loved as a child

and am genuinely a decent human being.

But somewhere during
my early Oakland days,

I built an affinity for
the silver and black.

The Raiders.

So when I'm in... it's win, baby, win...

and when we don't,

we beat the shit out
of the opposing fans.

Don't make me do that to you.

_

Liquid courage, don't fail me now.

It's like we're all being tested.

For a horrible disease.

Oscar went over-the-top.
I can't outspend him.

He has an open lane to
the hoop on Marithane.

Rather he bought himself one.

Fuck.

I need your help.

If he overpays his way
to victory every time...

which he damn well can afford to...

Then our burgeoning
enterprise is finished.

What kind of help are you looking for...

emotional, personal...

The Axe kind. How would you load Axe up

to deal with an existential threat?

I wouldn't need to.
He registers all threats as existential.

So I either try to stop him or at least

point him away from civilians.

How can I approach this like
Axe without becoming him?

Never known anyone to put on the
suit without it changing them.

But if anyone can, I suppose it's you...

Model the will, the aggression...

but temper it with your
own fundamental advantage.

A moral compass?

The ability to accurately
weigh reward vs. jail time.

You know what you need now?

I need Hard Bob.

That's a tight flight time.

He's a tight flyer.

But the imprecision
of the shift change...

Maybe that's where our boys come in.

I have not felt this excited
to be part of something

since I donned a girdle
for the 124th Edition

of the Hasty Pudding Theatricals.

I've seen the pictures.

The paperwork's ready to be filed, yes?

It's great fucking pie.

But I know you just didn't want company.

True dat, double true,
as the wise men once said.

I need you to paint something for me.

I thought that's what I was doing.

Yeah.
A little fucking slowly, by the way.

But this is different.

A portrait of the sitting
Treasury Secretary.

Come on, man.
I-I don't... I don't do portraits.

Well, I think we both know otherwise.

I've seen otherwise.

♪ You're so nice ♪

Right. Yeah. Well, that was nothing.

And it's none of your business.

Eh, well, your 'nothing' is world-class,

and it's more than good
enough for Todd Krakow.

Who's that?

He signs your money,
now you get to sign him.

Which'll get you even more
copies of his signature.

Thanks.

Hey, Anthony.

So, I'm sitting over there,
eating with one artist,

and I'm thinking to myself,

"My favorite artist isn't
getting paid enough."

- I'm talking about you.
- No. I'm fine.

No. Your pizza, Anthony,

is way too good for only
the hundred or so people

who are lucky enough to
get in here every night.

And what about the people who can't?

What about the ones who
can't get into New York?

Shouldn't they have some of this, too?

I agree.

Who are you?

Call me Manz. I'm Anthony's cousin.

Business manager.

What do you got in mind?

The freezer section. We start there.

Best frozen pie ever.

Then sauce. Gelato.

We roll out the complete line.

The whole Una food experience...
but at home.

But if you're his business manager,

why don't you have him
going in this already?

'Ey I tried. I got him
to open up a second location.

You know just this business
or you know business?

Graduated Stern. 4.2 weighted.

What's in it for you?

We partner.

I stake it.

This gets big and we get
bought by a major conglomerate.

It'll be what they call a
'liquidity event.'

Because people like your cousin here...

the best in the world at what they do...

deserve to get rich.

And I'm here to make that happen.

I like it.

And I've got some ideas.

- Okay?
- Okay.

Okay. We'll be talking.

Happy to be joining
the Langstraat family.

There's a hole in the universe
where Alderaan used to be.

As if millions of voices
suddenly cried out in terror.

What did you do?

You have your patent back.

And your employee... if you want him.

Which is a gift I am giving you,
whether I'm your VC or not.

I'm confident he'll be a good boy now.

Can I help you?

I'm Hard Bob Beaufort,

from the Bureau of
Industry and Security.

I understand you're
something of a bullshitter.

And I brook no bullshit.

Oscar, I'm sorry. How do you not go with

someone willing to do that for you?

Well, because if they're willing
to do that for you today,

they're willing to do it to you later.

But that's not something
you can hear from me.

You'll just have to
learn that for yourself.

Oscar, Al Davis is dead.

And the Raiders haven't
won anything in a decade.

So go back to the bay.
And heal, baby, heal.

Madam D.A. Enjoy your dumplings.

Thank you.

Ah, yes, the famed
Red Farm Pac-Man dumplings.

Fitting for someone who
gobbles up my cases.

Your cases are almost as delicious.

Which is why I want this one back.

No chance.

Let's see if I can shift your thinking.

Hmm?

My number one priority as
the State's top law man

is now fighting the scourge of
what you like to call sex work...

but which I am going to link,

very publicly, to sex trafficking.

Human bondage.

And I will make it look
like I'm stepping up

because you failed to.

Trying to scam the optics.

I don't give a fuck about the
people keeping score at home.

But you do care about the women.

I mean, sure, a few men,
but mainly women.

And, of course, children.

You care about what happens

when they're placed in the system.

You care about them
dealing with the incarceration,

the stigma,

the damage.

'Cause that's what
I'm gonna do to 'em...

incarcerate them, stigmatize them

and fucking damage them.

Do you see this urchin?

Her ID says her name
is Inge and she's 18.

I promise you,
she's far younger than that...

and I have no idea
what she calls herself.

I do know that not long after
she reached these shores

and this city,
she found her way to a massage parlor.

Where she was caught up in a sting,
under your watch.

You let her go.
And you know what happened?

She flourished. At this very moment,

she's working towards
her high school diploma.

What do you think happens
to the next Inge...

under my watch?

- I may have misjudged you.
- Mm.

Thought you had a limit
on how you use your power.

No. When it comes to the
particular agenda I am pursuing,

I will do it Rudy Giuliani-style.

I will prosecute with a crazy eye

and absolutely no sense of boundaries.

Besides,
I didn't put these women in this place.

They put their own lives up for sale.

And now those lives hang in the balance.

Will you ransom them back?

Or will you place Dutch paintings

and Scandinavian values above the life

and liberty of women most at risk?

Wow, Chuck.

Okay.

Taking the missiles out of Havana.

You can have your fucking art case.

Thank you.

Mmm. Delicious.

Enjoy your noonday repast.

Uh, hold up.

Alright, clear out, boys.

Get ready to authenticate.

Mr. Rhoades, I was born ready.

Like Eliot Ness with an MFA.

I have a PhD.

Well. Get ready
to shove it up Axelrod's...

Chuck. Another midday drop-by.

I'd say you were wasting my taxes.

If I didn't have such
giant fucking deductions.

The fuck is this bacchanalia?

Just a little day drinking.

I'm afraid these paintings no
longer belong to Mr. Axelrod.

They're hanging in his apartment.

Actually, this is no longer
a private residence at all.

Your family foundation. You didn't...

These works,
every impeccable inch of them,

are now the proud possession

of the Axelrod Charitable Foundation.

Which maintains and runs this museum.

It's a real feather in our cap.

Uh-huh.

A private art museum... for replicas.

Course not.

These are as real as I am standing here.

And they got here, how exactly?

We've been watching, day and night.

I guess not every angle.

Whoops.

Don't make 'em like they used to.

- Hey!
- Fuck you!

- Whoo!
- Come back here!

Huh?! Come and get me!

Let's get him!

Let's go!

Go, go, go!

Come on! Keep moving!

Got it.

Hurry up. Hurry up.

Okay, come on. Careful.

Why? They're empty anyways.

You can check the security footage

from the neighboring roofs.

Tough to move paintings this big,

had to innovate.

Might be facing an FAA fine.

But, oh, well.

I should have done the whole
museum thing many years ago.

Share the majesty instead
of hoarding it for myself.

And I want thank you,
Chuck, for the impetus...

and opportunity.

I need to take a closer
goddamned look...

Sure. But it will have to wait.

Museum hours are over for the month.

Wonderful collection!

- Yeah.
- Thank you.

Let's get the fuck out of here.

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

After Fischer beat Spassky...

Reykjavik, '72...

he described his chief
moment of pleasure

as seeing his opponent's ego break.

I want you to know,
as a newly-minted Mensan,

that I feel no need to break you.

I see no Cold War between us.

I always knew you had it in you.

Should I intentionally
leave one or two wrong,

so he knows he wasn't punked?

If he were thinking that clearly,

he'd have the real pin already.

It's a silly little trinket.

Proves nothing, of course...

besides the company of

Asimov, Carol Oates, Geena Davis.

Well. I hardly need to wear it...

Oh, you know what?

I will, why not...
in the name of learning!

And don't let this bauble, this curio,

remind you of the
yawning gap between us.

But I will be mindful.

And I will be here.

As a mentor.

A teacher.

A guide.

I am never doing another nice thing.

I say that every day.
But we are who we are.

How do I look?

Not great.

Good.

Two stopped-up urinals in my gut,

if I get a compliment I
know I'm a fucking goner.

I had my blood typed.

We're not a match.

You did that for Chuck?

I did it for your grandkids.

And for myself, too, maybe.

Second worst thing about dialysis,
after the bedpans?

Turns everyone into a
goddamned Hallmark card.

People want to say what
they've been meaning to say.

How about: Here's a fucking kidney?

All I've got is: They're doing
wonders with xenotransplants.

I'm a little rough on my Greek.

Pig kidneys.

You're already pig-headed.

I don't see why you wouldn't
want a kidney to match.

I'd rather die.

You might.

One thing I know about the Greeks,

the great tragedies

rarely featured death scenes.

Plain left that shit offstage.

They just did not find it interesting.

Living...

that's the real drama.

The real classroom.

Plenty of lessons left to teach.

You're worried about Willow.

Good God no.

She won't even remember me,

and she'll have her mother

to fill her full of whatever.

But Chuck...

if I'm not here

to push him, to mold him,

who knows all the ways
he'll fuck himself up.

You got me there.

It got ugly.

I got ugly.

I went halfway to Ed Exley.

Didn't know I had it in me.

You won.

For the moment.

Did you make good on your threat?

Good.

Would you have really
followed through, though?

It's possible something inside me

would have caught, backed down.

I truly don't know.

Would you have?

Yup.

Which would have been unfortunate.

Because then

we couldn't have enjoyed

this.

Is, uh, this a reward,
or to teach me a lesson?

Both.

Neither.

Whatever we want to make of it.

Come on.

I'm sorry Axe saw it.

You know, I didn't show it to him,

I didn't try to show it to him anyway...

I know you meant no harm,
but harm is coming.

It's open!

I'm ready for my close-up.

Hello?

Hey. You know what,
we should all do dinner...

Me, you, Tanner.

Maybe I'll bring someone, too...

Well...

The art world's been good to me lately.

It's gonna get me my bank charter.

I'd like to show my appreciation.

That'd... That'd be great.

- synced and corrected by sot26 -
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