Original subtitles

I was talking to Dani, here, about our sexual problem.

She's totally in.

- I've got to get my camera. This is... - Motherfucker!

Most recently, I gave man-birth to a weighty tome called God Hates Us All...

Which was turned into a movie called...

A Crazy Little Thing Called Love.

You drink too much. Write too little.

The only exercise you get is in the bedroom.

Some folks have compared the wait for your new novel

to the decade-plus wait for the new Guns N' Roses album.

How's the new book coming?

Now, that's a hostile question.

Hank, I got you a ticket.

I hope that's fully refundable because I ain't going.

- You're not going to your dad's funeral? - He was a fucking asshole.

Hank, you're not your father.

The white zone is for the immediate loading

and unloading of passengers only.

Holy shit!

Hey, I was just about to call the SuperShuttle.

- Hey. - Hey.

How are you? How was it?

- Hank! - Oh. Too much, right? With the pelvis?

I thought maybe I could get a little half a grind there, but maybe not.

I'm not here to pick you up. I'm meeting Bill.

You don't think I saw Bilbo Baggins up there in first class?

- You did? - He doesn't travel very light, does he?

Give the guy a break. Hey!

- He's been away for a month. - A lot can happen in a month. A lot did.

You shut up. Don't say a word.

Hey, don't hold back on my account, guys.

- I'm not. - Really?

Cos if it was me, I would grab that ass.

I would grab it like I owned it.

Especially after such a prolonged absence.

Would now be the appropriate time, Hank, to say how sorry I am for your loss?

It actually would have been more appropriate about three hours ago

with a free drink and an ice-cream sundae.

What were you doing with all those hot towels?

You got a bad case of swamp ass?

It must have been a very long flight.

And I think this is where we should part company.

- I see a cab with my name on it. - Don't be ridiculous.

- Bill, it's just a figure of speech. - We'll give you a ride home, Hank.

- No. No. - Really? Wow, that's mighty white of you.

No, he loves cabs. It reminds him of the Big Apple.

There's no need to punish the environment unnecessarily.

- That, you will put out, of course. - This, yeah. Of course, yeah.

And... here.

I got shotgun.

No way, man.

What the fuck is so great about that $30 salad, anyway?

Yeah, shit. OK, yeah. Fine, whatever.

That's fine. Eight o'clock.

You weren't planning on cooking tonight, were you?

I've got to go to Koi for the 400th fucking time.

Sometimes, I'm surprised I don't shit crispy rice with spicy tuna.

Do you want me to bring you something home?

Maybe some baked crab roll?

We could eat it in bed while we watch all those CSI: Miamis I saved up.

A little late-night snack with your snack daddy?

I'm good.

I actually think I might have a thing tonight.

Oh. A thing?

Yeah, I'm thinking about going to book club.

Well, you'll be home early, then.

Earlyish, I guess.

Why so curious all of a sudden?

I thought you said you were going out tonight.

I'm not. I'm not curious all of a sudden.

I happen to know you fucking hate book club.

Yeah, well, when you commit to something, you're supposed to stick with it.

Sure.

I guess I'll leave you to it, then.

See you later.

Later.

What ever happened to all this season's losers of the year?

Every time I got to thinking, "How'd they disappear?"

When I woke up

Mom and Dad are rolling on the couch

Rolling numbers, rock and rolling

Got my KISS records out

Mommy's all right, Daddy's all right

They just seem a little weird

Surrender, surrender

But don't give yourself away

Away

Dad!

That's my name. Don't wear it out.

You guys. Oh, my God. That was incredible.

I want you to play that song at the wedding.

- Let's not get carried away. - What? What do you mean?

You're very, very good.

Well, I think if you give them some time, Bill,

they could bone up on some Supertramp.

I don't get it. You don't want them to play that song?

No, I don't mean anything. I thought we decided on the string quartet.

- Bill, what? - Dan Fogelberg.

We haven't talked about this, and I think, perhaps...

- Hey, Becs. - Yes, Posh?

Our guests could use a beverage. What do you think?

- Agreed. - You don't like music.

Hey, hey, I don't want to get your hopes up, guys.

But you keep rolling with the marital discord,

and I see you across from Oprah on a big yellow couch.

Fingers crossed.

OK, great. Thank you. Are you coming up?

No. Why?

For to make-a the sex.

Are you fucking insane, Hank?

Do the seats on this recline?

Hank, whatever sex we're gonna have, we've had, OK?

It's little late to play hard to get.

We need to start acting like we split up already, OK?

Let's just forget about it.

Who could forget such a knee-rattling orgasm?

You were grieving. I was co-grieving. It was a slip.

It was a good slip. I think you knocked something loose down there, tiger.

- Hank... - I wrote something.

That's great, Hank.

I don't think you heard me. I wrote something.

Not that blog shit, either. Something real.

That's why I was in New York for so long.

I just sat down at my mother's old Smith Corona.

- I didn't get up for two weeks. - Wow.

I got pages here, honey. Many pages. It's rough, but it's something.

That's great. I wish you a lot of luck.

You fucked it out of me, woman. Now you don't want to take responsibility?

Hank, you know, fuck you. I'm not that person any more, OK.

I'm not your fucking sounding board cum security blanket.

- You're not in the least bit interested? - Yes, of course,

- I'm fucking curious, but no! - Fine, then it's settled. There it is.

I'm not taking no for an answer.

Hank, I'm sure it's very good. I'm sure it's excellent.

Most likely, it's a piece of crap. But I won't know until you tell me.

- Don't do that. - Cos that's the way it's always gone.

I give it to you, and you tell me.

I can't tell the difference between the ridiculous and the sublime until you tell me.

Now, be careful with that. You've got my life there in your hands.

This is just words, you know. It's words, OK. Take it.

Well, words is all I have left to play with.

So be gentle.

Now, please tell Becca to expect a gentleman caller.

Hank, please, take this.

Honestly, thank you. Smell you later.

Fuck.

Say it! Say it! Say it! Say it! Say it!

- OK, you're a good agent. - That's right, motherfucker!

If it hadn't been for me putting that little clause in your contract,

then you wouldn't be holding that big, fat wad of cash.

Yeah, fucking blood money is what it is.

Who the fuck cares what it is?

Thanks to the aggressively mediocre taste of the American moviegoing public,

you now get to reap the benefits.

Bonus time, baby. Treat yourself.

Treat myself?

- Get yourself a new car. - I don't want a new car.

I like my old one. It's got character.

If by character, you mean it's got lady juice

in every nook and cranny of the upholstery,

then, yes, you're absolutely right.

- That explains a lot, actually. - Get it washed, then.

Now you could probably even get yourself

one of those little prepaid coupon booklets, right?

You put it in the glove compartment. That's how I roll.

- That's how you roll? - That's how I roll, baby.

I did purchase what is commonly referred to by the kids as a big-ticket item.

What am be dat?

- OK. I'm getting a bad feeling here. - Why is that?

I'm thinking you intend to give that to someone who might already be engaged.

- That's the plan, motherfucker. - Don't do this to yourself, Hank.

Come on, Charlie. Don't do what to myself?

Don't go after what I want? I've done the research.

Karen and I belong together. And I feel good.

Lately... I mean, just the past little while, things are looking up for me.

I feel a change. I wrote something.

Wait. You... you... you what?

You wrote something? OK.

I have dreamed about this moment, all right?

The one where you come to me, pages in hand.

You say, "Please read this." I do, and it's fucking genius.

I sell it. We both get ourselves back on track.

And we all live happily ever fucking after.

Fuck me. No pressure there.

What is it? A screenplay? A short story? What?

No more screenplays for me. It's a novel.

It's a short novel.

It's a modern-day answer to Lolita, really.

You know, an older man unwittingly beds an underage girl.

It unravels his life completely. High jinks ensue.

Broner. You gave me a broner.

Where is it? Let me read it.

Hey, Dani, cancel my lunch!

I gave it to Karen. She reads all my stuff first.

So? You know, slip me a copy.

Look, I promise I won't read it till after she's done.

That's the only one. I went old-school this time.

I hunted and pecked like a motherfucker.

Whatever. This is great fucking news, pal.

I'm not so sure, Charlie. I mean, you know, most likely, it sucks.

Well, yeah, see, that's where I come in, right?

By the time I get through spinning,

nobody will be able to tell whether it's a piece of shit

or a heartbreaking work of staggering genius.

There's a difference?

Dan, your next appointment is waiting for you on the lot.

Hi.

Leave me alone.

Ooh, a hostile.

No, I'm browsing. If I have any questions, I'll ask you.

Now, shoo, you little parasite, you.

- Oh, she's still coming. - What do you do?

- I'm a writer. - Oh, yeah? Movies? TV?

Books. Novels. The occasional haiku.

Oh. All right, well, let me know if you have any questions.

- What the fuck was that? - What?

You think I can't afford this penile implant on wheels.

So you're done with me.

- I didn't say that. - You didn't have to.

A guy's got feelings.

This one. I want to drive this one.

- Let me get the keys. - Please.

I love LA.

- So, what do you think? - It's really clean.

That's it? This is one of the finest automobiles the world has to offer.

I'm not a big car guy. I'm more point A to point B.

I think if I got to open it up past, like, seven miles an hour,

I might really fall in love with it.

Will you get off that fucking phone before I stuff it up your ass?

Hey. Hey, buddy.

- What, are you kidding me? - I kid you not, sir. Shame on you.

- Mind your own fucking business. - Come on. You don't want to be that guy.

Look at her. She's perfect. She's drop-dead. She's firecrackers on the Fourth.

You'll never do better, but she can, you know what I'm saying?

So, tell me something.

What do I have to do to get you into this car?

Well, let's talk about the extras.

- I like the BMW, too, though. - That's better.

No, I like it. It's roomy.

Leather! Leather!

- Oh. - Hey.

Hey, honey, your dad's here.

- Hey. - Hey. What the fuck is that?

Oh, just ignore that.

It's hard. It's very shiny.

- What about that? Did you? - What?

- Any thoughts? Notes? - No, this is my...

Criticisms? Did the Kool-Aid still taste as sweet?

- No, Hank... - Shall I turn around

so you can blow smoke up my ass more easily?

- Want to fuck me cos I'm a genius? - I have not had a second to breathe.

- I'm so sorry. I really am. - No, I... don't be sorry. I mean, I...

Honey, I just would have thought you would be more intrigued.

No, I am. I'm... I am intrigued.

- I'm just... I'm also kind of... - Horny?

No, what? Like you? Like 23 hours a day? Like some rutting moose? No.

The Billdo is back in black, and you're not warm for his form.

That shit tells me something.

You've got to catch up on your reading.

Whoa. It's even more phallic than the last one.

You like?

I liked the old one better. It had character.

- And a funky smell. - Yes.

- Where are we going? - It's a surprise.

I suggest that you brew one of your specialty teas,

settle into a backbreaking piece of modern furniture,

and curl up with your favourite author.

Martin Amis or Virginia Woolf or Charles Bukowski?

Imposters, all.

Whatever I want?

Whatever you want.

The possibilities are endless.

Well, go with something classic and timeless,

something that looks like Keith Richards might have thrown up on it at some point,

something that would make Jon Bon Jovi

quake in his acid-washed jeans.

Like that one?

This blue one? Yeah.

- Hey, man. Is Dave around, man? - No, he's on vacation.

- You need some help? - No, he's an old friend.

I just figured he could help me with some cash.

Bummer.

Come on, pretty girl.

- Father? - Offspring?

That was a nice guitar.

Yes, sometimes it's best not to get involved in the affairs of others.

That's interesting, coming from the most intrusive man I know.

...park or something now. - Hey, excuse me.

- Look at the swings... - Excuse me.

That's a beautiful fiddle you've got there.

- Yeah? - Yeah, how much you want for it?

- It's worth a lot, man. - Yeah, I'll bet.

I can put it on eBay and get over ten grand, easy.

Yeah, how much you want for it?

- I'd take a grand. - But you said it's worth ten at least, right?

Yeah, well... you've got to do what you've got do, man.

Yeah, I hear that.

How about 13.5?

Come on, man. Don't fuck with me.

I'm not fucking with you. I'm a couple hundred short.

If you give me your address, I can send you a check.

Don't worry about it. Just play it in good health.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

My lady, your axe awaits.

You're a good daughter.

- My hair. - I'm sorry. Come on.

I have a confession to make.

- Yes? - You know what you said earlier

about not wanting Becca to play at the wedding?

Bill, that really bothered me.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it.

I just don't want our wedding to be some big joke.

I don't want it to be some kind of adults-only affair.

You know, all stuffy.

I want it to be fun and whimsical

and something we're gonna remember forever.

All right, I hear you.

Maybe Becca can learn some... Van Morrison.

There's nothing that makes this man cry

like a little Brown Eyed Girl.

That's definitely a compromise.

Bill, there's something else that I want to tell you.

One second. One second.

- Hi, Bill. - Dad or Daddy, please.

- Hey. - Hey.

- What's this? - Oh, it's Hank's new book.

Hank wrote a new book? Well, fuck me running!

- Sorry. Can I read it? - No.

I don't think that's appropriate.

Well, is it good?

- I haven't read it yet. - Why not?

What is this?

Oh, my God. How did you even...

Well, I remembered you saying

how much you liked the view from your dorm room.

So I convinced these lovely little NYU co-eds

to let me take a picture from their dorm room,

which, once upon a time, was your dorm room.

You... you're just adorable.

Well, I try.

Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?

Oh, nothing. No, no, no. No, nothing. Come here. Come here.

Marce! Hey! Hey!

Marce! Marce!

Get that sweet, little hairless ass of yours downstairs!

We've got some celebrating to do!

Hey, I thought you had a dinner.

I did. I bailed at the last second.

I wanted to see you.

Why?

I need an excuse to see my wife all of a sudden?

No, it's just... what is there to celebrate?

Hank wrote something.

Well, kudos to Hank. He's a writer.

This is a big deal, sweetie.

This is like the return of old Hank.

Or I don't know. Maybe it's the new Hank.

But the guy, he came into my office today

with a giant engagement ring he bought for Karen,

What? What are you talking about?

The only thing I could think when I saw it was hope.

Baby, hope, hope.

Things have been just really fucked-up around here, right?

I mean, you know it, too, right?

Ever since, well, the nipple incident.

Or, actually, before then.

But the thing I realise now is that I was just really depressed, you know.

And if Hank can get his shit together, then so can I.

And that is exactly what I'm gonna do.

Good for you, Charlie.

And I want you to know, baby, that I'm sorry.

For what?

For letting us get to a place in our lives

where we actually thought we needed a threesome

to get ourselves back on track.

You don't have to apologise for that.

Yes, I do, because it is not right.

I want you to know... That you are all I need, baby.

You're right, Charlie.

Things have changed since Nipplegate.

Yes, yes, and I want to go right back where we were before.

Yeah, I don't think that's possible.

Good. Me, too.

Or... wait. What? You... what? You don't?

No, the thing with your tit

made things very clear to me.

The morning after our ill-fated threesome, I woke up,

and the only thing I wanted to do was call Dani.

Now, I don't know if that makes me a fucking rug-muncher.

But that sweet, little goth nutjob

makes this girl want to put her finger in the dyke.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, what are you saying?

What the fuck?

Oh, we were watching Bound just now.

You're right. That shit is hot.

You do have quite a movie collection.

And quite a wife.

- You're fired, missy. - Too late, boss.

I think it's time I moved on to a new desk.

Hey, maybe I'll even be an agent someday.

I know about everything.

I know about the S and M and the light B and D.

And I'm not mad. I'm just kind of sad.

And sexually awakened.

I think we should go out there and fuck all the people we never fucked.

Let's just rock out with our cocks out!

Carpe motherfucking diem, baby!

Wha... what if I don't want to...

Rock out with my cock out?

Hey.

What is that?

What about the guitar Bill got you?

This one's special. Timeless. Classic.

It looks like Keith Richards

threw up on it back in the '70s.

Back in the '70s.

Thanks, Dad.

You're welcome. Now go practise.

Extra loud so you annoy the neighbours and Bill.

I've got to talk to your mom about something.

- Hello? - Oh.

A chill just ran up my sack.

Hold on a second. I've got to prepare myself.

Yeah, me, too.

OK, just like old times.

Give it to me straight. I want it all.

Here we go.

Lay it on me.

Brutal truth.

- I can't. - You love ripping me to shreds.

It's not as much fun when I give you permission?

Look at me.

You didn't read it.

You didn't fucking read it.

I can't read it, Hank.

Why not?

Because... I can't go back.

I... that part of my life is over now.

There are a number of things going through my mind to say to you right now,

but only one is coming to the forefront.

And that is...

- Fuck, we had the sex, Karen. - Would you shut the fuck up?

Shutting me up is not gonna make it any less true.

You know what? That was a one-time thing, OK?

It's done. I mean, I don't regret it.

Why would you? You came, like, three times?

- Shut up! Hank, now I regret it, OK? - Twice, one and a half...

- Now I do regret it. - Slower on the second, it's understandable.

Hank, the fact that you wrote this is fucking incredible.

I'm so proud of you.

And I'm so glad that you have finally opened a new chapter in your life.

And it's here, and it's great.

You have to do it on your own, OK?

What if I don't want to?

What if I want to go back and do it all over again?

Only this time...

not make the same mistakes.

This time, do it better, Karen.

This time, do it right.

With jewellery.

Hank... I don't love you any more, OK?

I love Bill. I'm gonna marry Bill.

And I really, really need you to respect that.

I'm a fucking asshole.

I'm a motherfucking asshole.

Hey. Hi.

Do you know how to get to the 405 from here?

- On foot? - Yeah.

You could walk over to Lincoln.

- Get the fuck out of the car, motherfucker! - Get out of the car!

- Hold it. - Get out of the car!

Get the fuck out now! Get the fuck out!

- Fuck! - Get in. Come on, let's go.

- G... - Shut the fuck up!