Original subtitles

Previously on Black Monday...

As far as we can tell,

we're in one of those off-the-books NYPD black sites.

We are here because this guy set us up.

Dawn Darcy, you have the tools

to be a superstar here,

which is why I want to give you

total control of your own label.

You heard him. Mo will never let me out.

I have a friend who just got this new white rapper

out of a deal by hanging him over a balcony...

allegedly.

Well, that's terrifying.

I want what's best for you guys,

which is why you got to take it.

Take Nomi with you.

I think you said you'd do anything to get Dawnie out.

If Pfaffashions goes public without a hitch,

KokoMo Co Records stays yours.

One of the heads

of the NASDAQ's coming to sign off on the IPO.

All I have to do is provide a venue safe from his wife,

and then the IPO is good to go.

Douglas!

Oh!

Doug, will you still be signing?

Blair? Oh, Blair?

I've got a surprise for you.

You've been going through so much,

what, with the repeated attempts on your life

and repeated deaths of everyone around you.

You must not know who to trust anymore.

I bet that's the most stressful part...

the not knowing.

Well, I think I can relieve some of that stress.

Ow.

Mmm.

I miss our old life, Blair.

Why did you have to ruin everything?

Nope, no, no. Today's not about blame.

Today's about...

relief.

I knew you were home.

This is gonna be fun.

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Speaking of our old life...

are you back in the closet?

- Going somewhere? - Oh!

Gotcha!

Mommy!

Tiff, what's going on?

I told you, it's a surprise. Now, hit this.

I hope I didn't get any glass in there.

But you're the expert. Am I right?

Seriously, though, chug with care.

? Hit you with a rhythm you ain't heard before ?

? Looking for what's new, tell me what's in store ?

Wow.

Momo, this is really good.

Who knew all I needed to appreciate jazz

was a complete other kind of music laid on top of it?

- Okay, okay. - Watch this.

Okay, horrible.

Oh, fucking genius.

Ugh, sucks ass.

Oh, oh, I love it.

- Okay. - Okay, kill me, kill me.

Yeah, we get it, we get it, we get it, we get it.

Well, if you hate genuine art with any kind of substance,

you're gonna love L.A.

- Oh, fresh take. - Yeah.

What's next, huh? You're gonna do five minutes

on how the bagels are bad 'cause of the water?

Do not get me started on their pizza.

I can't believe you're actually leaving tonight, Dawnie.

I'm really gonna miss you.

Yeah.

Hey, uh, you know,

I need your opinion on some shit, too.

Like, C or D?

The track's in B flat.

No, I mean, I don't want to be flat.

Oh, you're getting titties.

- Yeah! - All right.

Come on, Mo, it's L.A. You know, bitches get stitches.

- This is true. - Yeah, yeah.

Now, you said you'd give me your opinion on shit, so...

Well, my honest opinion is you don't mess with perfection.

Momo, that's sweet.

But I'd go C.

The golden booby-to-booty ratio is three to four,

and, you know, you got D ass, so...

Yes, and that is D truth.

That's funny.

With everything that's come between us,

it seems all we really needed to come

- between us was 2,500 miles. - Hmm.

You're trying to think of a "come between us"

- joke right now, aren't you? - Yeah, when you said it the second time,

and I'm kind of in the area of, you know, we're closer now

than when there was actual come between us.

But that felt a little crass.

- No, not terrible. - You like that?

Yeah.

Well, uh...

Hey, look, your red-eye's not till midnight, right?

Mm.

Well, the guys are coming back in at seven.

Why don't you come back and check 'em out?

I'd really love to get your ears on 'em.

Yeah, of course.

Okay, cool.

And thank you, you know, just for everything.

Oh, come on, stop it.

Stop it.

- Okay. - Yeah.

I made us lunch.

- You made it? - Hmm.

Notice anything special?

My mom's famous frozen lasagna,

instant mashed potatoes, and Mountain Dew.

My death row meal.

I always forget how Florida your palate is.

What's the big occasion? I'm not dying, am I?

Oh, you just reminded me.

I forgot the poison.

- Poison? - Be right back.

- Everything okay? - Yes.

Have you heard this?

It's so us.

? We both lie silently still ?

? In the dead of the night ?

? Although we both lie close together ?

? We feel miles apart inside ?

? Was it something I said or something I did? ?

? Did my words not come out right? ?

? Though I tried not to hurt you ?

? Though I tried ?

? But I guess that's why they say ?

? Every rose ?

? Has its thorn ?

? Just like every night ?

? Has its dawn ?

? Just like every cowboy ?

? Sings a sad, sad song ?

? Every rose has its thorn ?

Bon appe-titties.

- Did you swap our glasses? - How would you even know that?

'Cause my Dew is diet

'cause my insulin is jacked from years

of the ole two-finger dessert.

- Are you trying to kill me? - No, you're trying to kill me!

- What? - Come on, Tiff!

What are you talking about?

The tarps, the torture tools, my death row meal.

Even if you didn't poison it, your cooking alone.

Good one, Leno.

We always knew it would end like this.

These aren't torture tools. These are spa tools.

Cuticle nippers, skin needler, bone sander.

Well, that one is a torture device,

but it's great for bunions.

I do have worse bunions than a sitcom mother-in-law.

Exactly. I'm not trying to kill you.

I'm trying to pamper you

like we used to when we had no money.

Well, I had money, but you wouldn't let me spend it.

Don't you remember?

Pamper du Pauper!

Oh, America's finest at-home spa

for the poor and disen-Canyon Ranch-ized.

Put that sword away and stop trying to kill me.

Oh, argh.

I'm gonna cut you up, you bitch.

Oh, God, we used to have so much fun

just mud masking and gossiping and waxing each other's...

I can't believe I didn't know you were gay.

Imagine my surprise.

Ugh, we haven't done that

since we lived in that horrid apartment.

I miss that place, and I miss our old life,

before you started working at the Jammer Group

and before I started working full stop.

You were my best friend.

I mean, I know our orgasms were fake,

but our love was real, wasn't it?

God! What has happened to me?

My oldest friend tries to do something nice for me,

and I think she's trying to kill me.

It has gotten away from us a bit.

Come on, do you honestly think I'd do my own wet work?

Well, no, you'd farm that shit out like Yoko.

I'm sorry.

It's just been a while since I've had a friend.

You have friends.

Mo, Dawn, the Muslim fella, that guy with no eyebrows.

- I want to say Yawn? - It's 'cause of your dyslexia.

- Wayne. - Oh.

Wayne exploded at the black site I dragged everybody to

when I thought they were trying to kill me.

Yikes, I mean, I get why Yawn was mad, but...

No, Yawn literally exploded.

I keep trying to apologize,

and they just send back my fruit baskets.

Please don't tell me you're trying to apologize

for a black site with a fruit basket.

Fancy candle?

Take it from a kidnap survivor.

You need to apologize in person, okay?

Just go, go now, go.

No, what about Pamper du Pauper?

Well, today was supposed to be all about taking care of you,

anyway, so let's start with your insides?

- Really? - Yes, I will not take no for an answer.

And besides, my horse Nair takes 90 minutes to congeal.

Your muff is as tough as you are.

Hello?

- Surprise! - Jesus fuck!

- Oh, it's fucking geek patrol. - Fucking Pfaff.

I'm guessing this isn't for me.

Really? I mean, it could be a "thanks

for getting us all jacked up by the fucking pigs" party.

Yeah, we should beat your fucking ass.

- Okay, that's why I'm here. - To get your ass beat?

Mm, fight, fight, fight.

And, Karen, I swear to God.

Giancarlo, what are you doing here?

Tiff took away my allowance for trying to kiss her face.

She's so strict.

Hey, hey, Blair.

What the fuck are you doing here?

Okay, I've been thinking a lot about everything,

and I've decided...

Oh, everybody, hide. Hide, hide, hide.

Places, people.

Giancarlo, you better cake yourself!

Lights, lights.

Get down, get down. Hide, hide, hide, hide, hide.

Surprise!

Oh, God, shithead number two.

You guys remembered my birthday.

I thought no one in the world cared about me.

No one does care about you, Keith, okay?

This is a going-away party for Dawn,

and if you ruin it, I swear to fuck.

You swear to fuck who?

Karen, you were already on the bubble

for this thing to begin with, okay?

- Wait, where's Dawn going? - Wait a second.

You invite Blair and fucking Giancarlo,

- and you don't invite me? - L.A.

- He's the stripper. - Who, Blair?

- Giancarlo. - What?

Oh, I just want to kill myself.

What are you doing here, Keith?

Look, I, um... I've been thinking

a lot about everything, and I quit Leighman...

No, no, no, I've been thinking a lot about everything,

and what I would like to say is...

Okay, all right, just shut the fuck up and hide.

Hide. Carlo, cake.

- Keith, if you fuck this up... - I won't ruin anything.

Get under the desk, you dumb shit.

Hide, hide. Put the cigarette out.

- Quiet. - Put it out.

- Put it out. - Got to be quiet.

Shut the fuck up!

Surprise!

Oh, wow!

I did not expect a welcome like that

or any welcome.

What the fuck, Lar?

Uh, Keith, didn't I fire you?

Well, I don't see how that's actually relevant,

but it is the reason why I'm here, Mo,

because, um, like I said.

I've been thinking about a lot of things...

No, no, no. I've been thinking a lot first.

Oh, Jesus.

You know, actually, I've been thinking about things

since about a year ago when I got hit by that taxi cab.

No, I was going back before that, around Black Monday...

See, it was a couple months before that, when I was...

What do the two of you want?

- A job. - Forgiveness.

Great, you got it, okay? Now everybody hide.

Giancarlo, back in the cake. You too!

You meant that about the job?

Yes, you can have the fucking job.

Uh, uh, no, Mo, not to be a party pooper,

but you can't hire Keith, only I can.

You just fired him.

I did fire him for fucking up the Pfaffashions IPO,

which is why you can't hire him.

- Okay, uh... - Oh, fuck, no.

- What? - Oh!

Mo didn't tell you he put his label up

for collateral against the IPO

so he could get Dawn out of jail?

And Mr. Shankar didn't tell you he shanked the IPO meeting?

You merkin-headed motherfucker.

Technically, it's not a done deal.

So, as I was saying, "Ooh, surprise!"

I now own KokoMo Co Records,

although I'm pretty sure anybody could've seen

that coming from the very beginning.

So I'm sorry, Keith. You are not hired.

We're moving in a different direction.

And speaking of different directions,

Dawn will not be going in one because she's the only

profitable part of this shitty label.

You know what?

Maybe I don't hate being a party pooper after all.

Is all that true, Mo?

- Surprise! - Karen!

- What the fuck, Karen? - No, Mo.

What the fuck?

Okay, look, Dawn. I can explain everything.

Oh, you want me

- to actually try to do that? - Yeah.

This is usually the part where people just storm out.

And didn't Larry kind of just take us through

- the basic beats of the whole thing? - I did.

Dawn, look, it's what I had to do to get you out of prison.

I told you. Stop trying to save me!

Now I hear it. Sure.

Is now a good time to do my thing?

- It's not, Blair. - Turn the fuck around!

Copy that.

Ooh.

Babe? Did you forget your keys again?

Okay, coming.

I'm coming! Sheesh!

Oh, my God, how are you? Look cute!

Let's do lunch soon! Love you more, bye!

Is this where you've been the last few weeks

while I've been running our company?

No. Um...

not, like, exclusively.

Like, I've been doing lots of stuff, okay?

Corkie, I hate working!

What?

I thought I wanted to be a modern businesswoman,

but it turned out I just wanted to be a woman...

hold the business and the modern.

I'm an heiress, Corkie. I don't belong in an office.

I belong in a club that I can't belong to

without a man, sending back a salad.

So this why you killed our IPO?

Oh, so you heard about that.

That's good because we just, like, ripped off the Band-Aid

and now you and I can go back to being friends.

And speaking of ripped,

could you give the gal a tug on the old rug?

It looks like I've got Alf in a leg lock.

Pfaffashions is all I have left!

My church is completely bankrupt, my dad is dead,

and my husband is spinning on Satan's flaming rotisserie

because of the sins committed with your husband!

Is anybody else getting a hankering

for Kenny Rogers' Roasters?

Let's grab a bucket and do a spa day.

I don't support the Devil's music

or its evil chicken spawn!

Okay, well, that's your loss

'cause Kenny knows when to bold 'em with flavor.

Corkie, I can see you're very upset,

but after seeing so many people die this year,

I just felt like I need to focus on doing

what makes me happy.

Nothing. I'm Tiff Pfaff.

Women want to be me. Men want to be me in drag.

Oh, gag me with a spoon.

Okay, you can insult me,

but don't you dare come for the Tiff Army.

Your new hair color doesn't match your skin tone.

I said you could insult me, but I didn't mean right now.

There is no discernible difference

between your ankles and your calves.

Okay, well, at least I'm not afraid to show my ankles

or my shoulders or my cleavage

'cause I think it's gonna make Jesus too horny or whatever.

You Jezebel!

Ow!

You little fucking bitch!

Get off of me!

No!

Ew!

No freaking... Oh, no!

Corkie!

Corkie.

Of course you're a redhead.

I prefer person of hair color.

Tiff, fudge you!

Actually, fuck you!

So then Larry goes to his favorite coffee shop,

and runs into said bimbo... or himbo...

since Larry's tastes are ambiguous as a motherfucker.

No, he's actually pansexual.

Oh, my God, he fucks, like, cookware and shit?

No, "pan" is Spanish for bread,

so a pansexual is someone who fucks a piece of bread.

No, it means he's attracted

to people's personalities, not their gender.

Wow, I don't think I've ever liked the personality

- of any guy I've ever fucked. - Hilarious.

Hating them is what gets me off.

Hating myself is what gets me off.

- Oh. - Oh.

We know you're serious.

Okay, guys, whoever we embed beds Larry,

but what he doesn't know

is we have inserted a tracking device...

- up the old keister. - Come on, another honeypot?

No, a honeypot?

You've got some real mommy issues.

I do not have fucking mom issues, okay?

I don't even know the bitch.

Don't call your mom a bitch. I know

- you don't know her but... - And you know what?

Fuck me for trying to get you to L.A., Dawn.

What? Fuck that!

This stupid-ass plan

is as much about your label as it is my shit.

Okay, my stupid-ass plan? Real easy to criticize

when you're not the one putting yourself out there.

Putting yourself out there? This sucks, Mo.

The timeline is very confusing.

This will work.

- Focus. - Time-out, time-out.

The drawings aren't good.

Good old Keithy is here, and I actually have a real plan.

How do y'all feel about blackmail?

God damn it, Keith. Are you wearing a wire again?

No, I'm not wearing a wire.

Why do you always use language that can be used against us

- in a court of law? - All right, just trust me.

- My name is Theresa. - Okay, Larry fed Lenny to the wolves!

So what do you mean?

He, like, threw him under the bus or something?

No, he literally fed his brother to the wolves.

I know, 'cause I was... wasn't there,

but he told me in great detail.

It was horrific.

I mean, I'm not surprised.

- It tracks. - It kind of makes sense.

That-that's your reaction?

I just dropped a fucking bombshell on... that...

Not really.

Okay, well, fuck you guys.

But this makes things easy, right?

We'll just have Lenny confess

on Keith's wire, and then we can...

I'm not wearing a fucking wire!

Okay, on a wire. Who gives a shit?

Guys, let's not get caught up in details.

What's important is that

the perfect person to wear said wire.

- No, no, no. - Mo, I'm sorry...

Come on, guys. Why not?

I think this is a really dumb idea.

What the fuck are you even doing here, Blair, huh?

Just to apologize for getting us all kidnapped?

How about apologizing for almost getting me thrown away

for the rest of my fucking life in jail

or for not pardoning Dawn, which is the only reason

we're in this goddamn mess in the first place?

Okay.

When you say it all out loud like that,

yes, it does...

stick in the throat...

but I'm sorry.

A-and I genuinely want to change, if you could just...

Blair, fuck off and fuck off.

Okay.

Any other takers?

Okay.

Good day.

Thanks for making it weird.

Now, the honeypot.

Oh, come on!

No one wants to do a fucking honeypot!

Sorry.

Look, if there's anything I learned in the record business,

it's how to get someone out of their fucking contract.

Okay, I admit it, I admit it!

Me and Keith killed my only twin!

We-we-we left him for dead.

No, I think what you meant was me left him for dead.

Okay, me left him for dead!

Say it like a normal sentence... go!

Okay, okay. I left him for dead!

I killed my own flesh and blood,

and it haunts me every waking second!

And you are who?

- I am... I am Larry Leighman. - Got it!

Sometimes at night when I'm laying in bed,

I can hear his voice in the other room!

Oh, yeah, yeah, come on.

No one needs a whole one-man show.

We just needed your confession.

Which we got on tape,

so give Mo back his label, or you're fucked.

Yeah, you're fucked.

- Yeah, you are fucked! - You're fucked.

Wow, you guys really like a good defenestration, don't you?

Yeah, who doesn't?

All right, whatever, Keithy.

If you take me down, I will take you down with me.

So be it.

Give Mo back his label, or go down together.

You monster.

You know, fine.

But for what it's worth, you're as big of a monster as I am.

You know, you're all monsters, all of you.

And I should know!

I should know because...

Lenny turned me into one, okay?

So shame on me? Shame on me?

Shame on all of you!

Are we supposed to believe you have emotions?

Shame on you! Shame on you!

Technically, you made your brother into a monster.

Shame on you! Shame on you!

All right, fine.

I'll have Pauline draw up the papers while I change my pants.

I'll meet you in the office in an hour.

Yeah, those papers better be there too, Lar,

or we're gonna turn that tape in to the cops!

- Yes! - Yeah, yeah, yeah!

Question...

- All right! - ... what is defenestration?

- Corkie? - Oh, my God.

Are you okay?

- Tiff, what happened? - Oh, no.

I quit my job.

- Corkie didn't love it. - Oh.

How'd your apology go?

They didn't love it either.

Okay.

Well, at least we have each other,

and a shit ton of spa stuff.

Yeah, we do, don't we?

- Please remove that. - Yeah.

Oh, Dawnie, you're gonna be back in time

for the wedding, right?

Yes, I already booked my ticket,

and I've got my, uh,

if-anyone-objects speech written.

All right. I want to be at your table.

No, no, I'm just kidding. I'm just kidding.

You know, I'm really happy for you, Momo.

Aw, thanks.

God, you guys put the "won't" in "will they, won't they".

Listen, somebody had to do it.

I mean, Jesus Christ, we've been grinding each other harder

- than my teeth right now. - Oh, God, yes.

The last few years have been a fucking ride, right?

Mm-hmm.

Speaking of which, do you guys remember that time

when I ran over Blair with a golf cart...

sort of on purpose?

It was one of your greatest hits.

Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, do you remember, Mo,

when you fully cocaine'd Blair on the trading room floor?

Ruining his career before it even got started!

- Welcome to New York! - Brilliant plan.

And we all knew it was so wrong, but nobody helped him.

- We were all gone. - It was bad.

What about that time

he was forced into electroshock therapy

to knock out his gayness, right?

And then the love of his life just commits suicide,

and then he uses that, you know, to get into Congress,

and then, bam, he gets shot!

Almost dies!

So funny.

Jesus, we really did fuck that shithead over, huh?

Yeah.

Fuck, are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?

This trip down memory lane is missing a passenger.

Yeah.

Spencer, your ex-husband. I-I'll call him.

Just... I bet it's awkward for you two,

but I can call right now and be like, "Spence!"

He'll be like, "Yassir, Yassir, is that you?"

- What's wrong with you, man? - Why would you say that?

We wanted to be a power couple so bad.

All we focused on was the power.

We forgot about the couple.

And our power was the couple.

- I missed us. - Yeah.

Let's make a pact. If we're not engaged to new people

by the time we get divorced, we'll get remarried.

Deal. Okay, now, spill it, Valdez.

Who are you dating, loving, fucking?

You know, just the occasional intern,

but it doesn't really mean anything.

It's like when they laugh at my jokes.

Like, are they just doing it because I'm their boss?

Hmm, probably.

No, there's really been nobody serious since...

Roger?

Oh, you really miss him, huh?

Yeah, I do.

Oh.

It wasn't your fault, Blair.

Well, it kind of was, but...

thank you for saying that.

I guess Pamper du Pauper

was exactly what I needed inside and out.

Okay, you know what else you need?

- You need a night out. - Ooh.

There is a Tiff drag night tonight.

I mean, talk about fun for our whole family.

Checking all the boxes.

Let's go, let's go tonight. What do you say?

- Yeah, that sounds perfect. - Okay, okay.

Hello?

Mo?

Really?

Right now?

Uh, well, I-I-I kind of just made plans.

What? Blair, go, go.

Yeah, we'll meet up later.

Are you sure?

'Cause it's really not that big of a...

Deal me in, fockers!

- Oh! - Get in there, Blair!

- Yes, yes, yes! - Get it, get it, get it!

Yeah!

You guys, ah, I missed you.

And I'm sorry. From now on...

Oh, God, from now on, we will forgive your ass

if you stop fucking apologizing.

Jesus Christ, we get it. You're sorry.

But, hey, now that the fifth Jackson is here,

I would like to propose a toast.

- Yes. - Ooh.

- To Dawn Darcy. - Oh, to me?

- Okay. - Damn right.

The wicked witch of Wall Street.

The eye candy with the nose candy.

- There it is. - Oh.

- Two dimples and no scruples. - Mm.

What about the woman turning the West Coast

- into the Breast Coast? - Uh-oh!

- Wait, wait, what? - You getting Cs still?

- Come on. - No, no, no, fuck it.

- I'm getting Ds! - Oh!

- To Ds! - She's getting Ds, y'all!

Oh! You know what, guys?

I would cry, you know, if years of wearing crazy-ass eyeshadow

hadn't permanently clogged my ducts.

Ah, that's, uh... I remember about that.

So, instead, how about we do sports hand thingy.

- Oh. - All right, all right.

- Here we go, here we go. - On three.

One, two, three...

sports thingy!

Well, now it is time to make things official with Larry.

- Yes! - Yes!

- All right, here we go. - All right, all right.

- Official with Larry. - Let's go.

Come on. Oh!

? I listen to her favorite song ?

? Playing on the radio ?

? Where the DJ said love's a game ?

? Of easy come and easy go ?

? But I wonder ?

- Great time. - I am.

Oh, come... what the fuck are you doing, Larry?

Why are you sitting in the elevator

when you should be at your office?

Exactly.

? I can still feel so much pain ?

? Like a knife that cuts through the wound heals ?

I am loving your bold lip. I'm, like, attracted to you.

Tiff only. I wish.

Slay, slay, slay! You are me!

? Every rose has its thorn ?

? Just like every night ?

? Has its dawn ?

? Just like every cowboy ?

? Sings a sad, sad song ?

? Every rose has its thorn ?

What the fuck?

- What is that? - Oh!

Why are you going in there?

No, no, no, no, no.

- Oh, my God! - Dawn!

They chopped his dick off!

Such a turn to it.

How would you use that, I mean, practically?

I think you'd have to kind of hook into it.

- Or, like, back-back... - ... back into it.

- Back into it. - You could definitely back into it.

I guess someone could back into it.

Okay, look, we need to put it back.

You have to get your fingerprints off.

No, he's... No, it's good, good, good.

Oh, he got spit on the dick.

- Just put it back. - Blow on it?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. - Ugh.

Shit, he's not even Weekend at Bernie's-able.

Mm-m.

Should we dip his dick in ink and then forge his signature?

Forget about his dick!

- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.addic7ed.com -