Original subtitles

Previously on Californication...

Man, what are the odds?

I end up next to the most beautiful woman in the tri-state area.

He wants Hank to come to him.

Who the fuck is "he"?

Samurai Apocalypse.

But I wanna do my own thing, my own moment.

Santa Monica Cop is my Eddie Murphy moment right now!

I don't know. It's not really my thing.

Get your sexy ass over here, mama.

Damn.

I'm Charlie Runkle. We spoke on the phone.

No, I'm just the nanny, but come on in.

- Are you OK? - I just got fired.

Are you looking for a new gig?

Hank Moody! Better not be hitting on my girl.

You should be in Starbucks writing me some funny shit.

I don't think I can do it.

- How's Becca? - Boyfriend.

I wanna kill him, Hank.

Hey, Tyler.

This is not what it looks like. This is my sister.

What the fuck was that all about?

Some guy my daughter's seeing.

I think he's gonna break her heart.

Maybe we should break his legs first.

Tyler was leaving some club in Hollywood,

and he got jumped by a bunch of gangbangers.

Fade the fuck out.

The end, motherfucker. Charlie!

Way ahead of you, buddy.

Print, bitches.

Wait!

Don't you want to spell check?

No, something tells me the Samurai isn't much of a typo Nazi,

and I gotta get out of here.

I gotta get my brown eye on the red-eye.

I got a plane to catch.

- Please, stay. - Mmm-mmm.

I came, I saw, I turned some words into cash. The coffers are full.

Besides, I don't want to get myself killed

by a trigger-happy rapper.

It's just not the same without you, buddy.

Just go down to the bar, grab yourself one of your Messy Bessies

and you'll feel better in the morning.

That's the thing, Hank. It doesn't work any more.

I'm lonely.

I long for companionship.

Is this it?

Is this the moment I've been waiting for?

Are you finally coming out to me, Charlie?

Female companionship.

Female.

- Grab yourself a lady friend. - It's not that easy.

I'm old and bald and lacking in social skills.

Yeah, but you do make a decent living.

And you have this groovy pad.

And that's really good for the hedonist.

It impresses the shit out of the strippers and the barmaids,

but what if I want something more?

Sometimes it's better not to touch your dreams.

Take it from someone who knows.

That is profound... ly depressing.

Speaking of which, I gotta go say good-bye to Becca.

Then I gotta drop this puppy off at MTV Cribs.

What are you gonna do?

I don't know.

I guess I'll probably masturbate to something dirty on the Internet

while I wait for Stuart to show up and spend the night.

Solid plan. What's on the menu these days?

I'm glad you asked.

I'm extremely partial these days to live sex-cams.

Yeah, for just a couple of bucks a minute,

they'll do anything you want.

I got this girl to drink her own pee the other day.

- What is wrong with you? - What?

This is why you can't find a girl.

You're too busy making them do disgusting things on the Internet.

- You should be ashamed of yourself. - I am.

Good. Now hug me.

I gotta go.

- Charlie? - Yes.

Is that a dildo in your pocket or are you just happy to see me go?

I think I must have been reliving that pee thing.

Now it's just a shame boner.

Fuck, fuck!

Hey.

What'd that poor house ever do to you?

Nothing!

It's what that pansy-ass little pussy fart

is doing to my house.

I gotta walk this shit off before I end up back in prison.

Fucker!

Fucker!

Hey.

Hey.

What's with the hubby out there?

Oh.

Tyler got into his 40-year-old bottle of Chivas.

What the huh? I thought Batesy was on the wagon.

Yeah, he is. But he keeps it around as a symbol of his sobriety.

Oh.

Right on.

So how's patient zero?

- Demanding. - Yeah?

- Mmm. - Mmm-hmm?

I'm waiting. My props?

I told you the kid was an asshole.

Well, yeah, but you think everyone's an asshole.

Yes. Yes, I do.

But that doesn't make me any less right

about this particular asshole.

I gotta go to the drugstore. Tyler needs more Vicodin.

- Hi, Becca. Remember me? - Oh, hey, Dad.

Hey, I'm leaving.

On a jet plane.

Don't know when I'll be back again.

Maybe a hug?

- Safe travels, Dad. - All right, I love you.

See you soon.

Yeah.

Hey, a quick one while they're away?

Come on. For old times' sake.

You know what? You're hitting on a married woman.

- I know. What's your point? - Yeah.

You really want me to sic my husband on you in the state he's in?

You're right.

That kind of thing could lead a man to drink.

- Yes. - And then his glorious mangina

might make an appearance.

Wouldn't want to see that happen, would we?

Actually, I would. I'm dying to see that thing again.

- Come on, let's do it. - Stop it.

Karen! Is dinner ready yet?

Yeah.

- I'm gonna take this... - No, allow me.

- Well, put it on the... - Hey, fuck that.

Thank God. I was about to eat my foot.

Oh.

Hey, Hank.

Wow, you've really moved in, haven't you?

I hope you're not expecting to get you security deposit back, are you?

Hey, listen, they insisted, OK?

Mmm. It's good.

Aw.

My folks are out of town, all right?

That's what your folks told you.

They actually hate your guts and rue the day

that your father ever failed to pull out in time.

Ha-ha. Why don't you go easy on me, man?

I got my ass beat about a week ago.

I know. I know that.

And I was almost sad when I heard the news.

And then I was vaguely disappointed when I heard

you weren't gonna die or anything like that.

But knowing that you were in great pain did make me smile.

- It's the little things, you know? - Mmm.

But if you break my daughter's heart,

being stomped on by a bunch of gangbangers

is gonna seem like a play date compared to the can of rape-ass

I will open up on your...

Ass.

Mmm.

Well, I have no intention of breaking her heart.

- Good. - She's a cool chick.

And if you respect her coolness,

you will tell her that you are a lying, cheating,

skulduggerous little manwhore.

You hear me?

I hear you.

- Are we cool? - No, never.

Can I bum a smoke?

Sure.

Got a light?

Ah! See, it's this damn finger of mine.

- Oh, yeah. I bet it's... - Oh.

- It's hard to... - God!

Oh, yeah.

This is how it was done.

Back in the day.

When the bushes were big

and the boobies was real.

Shit! Shit! Shit, shit, shit!

Shit.

- Hello! - Hello.

Not too much boob tube, OK?

OK, OK, OK. Relax, relax.

- We only watch what's educational. - Uh-huh.

A little Baby Einstein, perhaps. Who knows?

Maybe he'll even say something.

Whoa!

Jesus Christ, Charlie!

Oh, my God.

I can't trust you alone with this kid for one second.

Yeah, well, feel free to take him with you out on date night, then.

Oh, let's not be rash, Marcy.

You know, my assistant had to work some serious magic for these rezzies.

Believe me. I need a break from all things mommy.

Right, right.

So that whole "hiring someone to watch your kid

"while you go out all day shopping and having your toes done" thing

not working for you?

Die young and suffer, dickless.

Really kicking it back old-school with the porn there, hey, Runkle?

Well, if you must know,

I'm trying to wean myself off the hardcore stuff.

Yeah, I'm trying to rediscover

the simple pleasures of a masturbating teenager,

when girls were magical creatures who didn't go ATM.

- Ugh. - What?

Ass to mouth.

- That's disgusting. - Yet intriguing.

Don't get any ideas, OK?

You're way too big for mommy's cornhole.

Yeah, that's what daddy likes to hear.

You're welcome.

Hey, hey, what's the matter, buddy?

Hey, what's the matter? Huh?

- Where's Mr Blanky? - What?

Where is Mr Blanky?

- You... - You...

- Did you... - You brought...

You put it in the backpack.

OK.

You know, the traffic is really terrible right now on PCH.

I think maybe we should jet.

Yeah. Sorry, Charlie.

- OK, buddy, you're OK. - You wanted weekday overnights!

- You're a big boy, right? - Mommy loves you!

Oh, no.

Oh, you're a big boy. You're a big boy, OK.

OK, OK.

Shit.

I'm excited to read this shit, yo.

I'm excited that you're excited, yo.

You're a funny motherfucker, Moody. You know that, right?

Right back at you, Sam.

May I call you Sam?

Call me Calvin. My moms call me Calvin.

I'd be honoured.

- You should. - I am.

All right, nigga.

- I'm gonna read this shit. - You do that.

No, I mean right now, yo. Wait right here.

No, I can't. No, no, no, I gotta run. I gotta go.

What if I gotta make changes or some shit like that?

You can e-mail them to me.

That way I can ignore it more easily. Come on.

You ready?

Damn. Damn, mama, I gotta read this script.

But you said we were going out tonight.

I know, I know. I'll make it up to you, all right?

- I'll make it up to you. - Whatever.

Oh, man.

Yo, is it me, man?

Or is she just hot beyond logic and reason?

She be fine as wine.

- Hey, I told you about... - Sorry, I'm sorry.

Why don't you just take her out, you know?

You can read the script later.

Later? Fuck, no, man.

That's my motherfucking career, man. I take this shit serious, man.

I'm gonna sit in my favourite chair and read every page.

Even the parts I'm not in.

Put a pen to this bitch, correct all the typos.

- I hate typos. That shit is lazy. - Yeah. I hate typos, too.

Shit.

I do like when a girl come home from a club, though.

After dancing and drinking,

they be hot as a fuck, ready to go.

- What time's your flight? - Uh, 11:40.

Well, that's plenty of time to take Kali out for me, man.

That's not plenty of time, not plenty at all.

Come on, man. Do me a solid. Take one of my whips.

That's tempting. Would that I could, but I can't.

- My hands are tied. - What you gonna do,

go to a fucking airport or spend time with a beautiful woman?

I've spent many a time with many a beautiful woman.

- So what's the problem? - I can't do it.

- I can't. I can't. - That's fucked up, man.

- I gotta run. - Look, look...

I did you a solid with fucking Little Romeo, right?

- Ah, no. - I put his fucking ass

- in the hospital for you. - I did not ask you for that.

Yeah, but you needed that. I felt what you needed.

That's what brothers do for each other.

They feel each other. Feel me?

All right, a quick bite, but that's it.

Hey, that's all I'm fucking asking for.

Nigga, what? Shit.

- All right, OK. - But, yo...

Keep your motherfucking paws off her, Moody.

And your fucking penis.

- A'ight. - I'm serious, man.

- I heard that. - I'm serious, man.

- No, I heard that. - You be playing too much, yo.

- You got it? - Communication delivered.

All right, come on. I got this fucking Caddy

with the hydraulics.

This shit's gonna be like...

Bong-bong!

I'm so sorry. You must be going nuts.

Charlie, I can't breathe.

I can't breathe.

Hmm.

I'm sorry, can I get you something to drink?

No, I should probably go.

No! No, please, please, please, don't go.

- Please. - OK.

Yeah, this not exactly what I had in mind.

I'm sure, but whatever you had in mind

is something I probably couldn't stand for longer than five minutes,

so this will have to do.

You like torturing me, don't you?

I do. Very much so.

- Hey, don't do that. - Do what?

Don't look like that and talk like that.

It makes my wiener feel weird.

Well, we wouldn't want that, now, would we?

- What was that? - Self-preservation.

I was warned not to put my hands on you.

Well, what if I want your hands on me?

You're shit out of luck. They're gone.

Arms, too. Blown off in the war.

I'm nothing but a torso now.

Oh, yeah, laugh. Laugh at the torso guy.

You're a mean and vicious woman.

You know he doesn't own me.

Yeah? Well, be that as it may,

he does seem like the jealous type.

That is one way to put it.

He almost chopped off one of his bodyguard's fingers

for looking at me in an impure manner.

Like there's any other way to look at you.

OK.

So that's when I tell you, "Don't talk to me like that."

Cos I might have to put hands on you.

- Mmm-hmm. - Mmm-hmm.

So he's crazy,

and you're crazy beautiful.

What's in it for you?

Well, he discovered me,

and he signed me to his label

and he's producing my album.

And that's it?

No.

You know, it's not like we're exclusive to each other.

- Mmm-hmm. - Mmm-hmm.

I honestly can't even count how many baby mamas he's got.

Oh, that sounds complicated. I like to keep it simple.

I only have the one baby mama.

- Yeah. You told me about that. - Mmm-hmm.

- Dance with me. - No.

- No, no, no. - Come on.

No. Hankie don't dance.

Hold my purse.

You've got a really beautiful place here, Charlie.

Well, thank you, thank you.

I'm jealous.

You seem like you have it all figured it out.

Are you kidding? I don't know anything about anything.

What are you talking about?

You've got this great kid, a successful career,

a working automobile.

True, true and true.

I also have a failed marriage,

a number of truly humiliating career turns

and I haven't got an ounce of love in my life.

- Hmm. Join the club. - Come on.

A beautiful girl like you?

I bet you have your pick of the litter.

Of creeps, yes.

Any creep I want is mine for the taking.

It's hard to find a nice guy in LA. I'm not beautiful.

- Really? - Hmm.

You're insane.

And you're sweet. But I don't really fit the mould.

Don't even know if I really belong here.

I mean, I want to write children's books, not screenplays.

Wait a second, didn't you tell me

you were working your way through cooking school?

Yeah, that's the other thing. I can't make up my mind.

I want to be someone new every other week.

You like that? Tell me you like it.

Tell me you want Charlie's dirty fingers inside your pudding.

No, Charlie.

I won't tell you that, and I don't like it.

- What? - You kind of just

finger-blasted me out of nowhere.

I know, I know. I'm sorry.

Look, I don't know who you've been talking to,

or what kind of porn you've been watching,

but girls in the real world, we don't go from kissing

to finger-banging in a matter of seconds.

You're right, you're right. You're absolutely right.

I have been watching so much porn on the Internet lately.

And I've been seeking so much sexual gratification

that it's like I don't even know how to relate

- to real women any more. - Clearly.

Yeah, it's as if going ATM has become de rigueur.

Um...

- What? - Ass to mouth.

- Oh, that's not good. - I know.

No, I mean you could get an infection.

I know. Been there.

Oh, what do we have here?

Hey, who's this clown?

Just some old guy from earlier who keeps hitting on me.

Said he'd give me 30 bucks for a hand job.

Oh, are we're playing that game now, are we?

Yo, pal, why don't you just take a walk somewhere?

Why don't you just kiss my turd cutter, little lumberjack?

OK. So what's up?

- Oh, no. - You wanna get hit?

You want a dry thumb up the ass?

You had to think about it, right?

You wanna just get out of here?

- Gladly. - No, no, no.

- You don't want to do that. - Why not?

Cos I'm in charge of getting you home safely.

No, I'm in charge of getting me home safely.

Now you're just splitting hairs.

Little hairs. Pubic hairs.

Well, that's impossible.

Cos I don't have any pubic hairs.

Come on. Why would you want to do that?

What's wrong with a little hair down there?

You kids today with your self-loathing pube abuse.

What about you, buster?

- Keep a clean playground? - What the fuck?

It's a simple question, brosephine.

Broseph... Yeah, yeah. Of course, everyone does.

Ah.

- Homo. - Say what?

Homo.

What?

You really think you're having better sex than your parents?

You think that your father loved your mother's beautiful pussy

any less because she had more hair down there?

Don't be talking about my mom's pussy.

What? I said it was beautiful, man.

What are you doing?

Whoo! Oh, sorry. You're crazy.

Now, this is more like it.

I still can't believe you gave that guy a titty-twister.

Mmm.

The titty-twister is frowned upon in some circles,

but it's actually a remarkably effective street-fighting tool.

And it can diffuse a potentially incendiary situation.

And it provokes laughter. You see that?

- What'd I tell you? - Oh, gosh.

I'm having fun.

Well, of course you are. I know how to show a girl a good time.

A few drinks, some dancing, a little titty-twisting,

toss a few burgers down her throat.

Get her home before this low-rider turns back into a pumpkin.

Bong-bong.

- This is amazing. - That?

- Bargain-basement promise land? - Um.

Say what you want, but this is where dreams come true.

Or come to die.

Where you from?

Born and bred in the Bronx.

- The Bronx? - Mmm-hmm.

- That's an amazing place to be from. - Yeah.

Well, how many of us make it from there to here?

Doesn't matter. You did.

We'll see how long I last.

I heard your music. I don't think you have anything to worry about.

So, you leave tonight?

Yes, sirree, ma'am.

- Let me ask you a question. - Mmm-hmm.

If you're leaving tonight, like, this very night.

Yeah.

What's the harm in a good-bye kiss?

Well, when you put it that way, it's hard to see the harm.

I know, right?

- Maybe just one. - Oh, yes. Of course.

What the fuck you got to say for yourself now, motherfucker?

Uh...

- Come on! - Santa Monica Cop

cannot be my last credit.

Oh, my God.

I'm just fucking with you, Moody.

It's funny how at peace I was with it.

Yeah, well, you seemed like you were really relaxed.

What's up, mama?

Man, the fucking script was off the charts, homie.

- You like it? - Like it? Nigga, I love it, man.

Made me one bad-ass motherfucker.

I'll be able to walk on that set with confidence, dude.

My dick just swinging everywhere, man.

Thank you, Moody. For real.

You're welcome, Calvin.

He show you a good time, mama?

Yeah, it was all right.

Kind of limited, boring white guy.

Guilty as charged.

You all two motherfuckers knocked boots, man?

- What the fuck? - Babe, I mean, honestly, come on.

I mean, this guy? Are you serious?

Well, way to knock a guy when he's got a gun to his throat.

I'm just fucking with you, bro.

I can't stop fucking with you, man.

I'm in character.

Understood.

- You got a flight to catch, right? - Mos def.

Sorry.

I do have a flight to catch.

- Safe travels. - See you around, Hank.

Yeah, good luck with that whole becoming-a-star thing.

Ah, thank you, and good luck with that whole

keeping-it-simple thing.

Ah, speaking of which, look. It's from the baby mama.

Ah, shit, I got a lot of those motherfuckers.

- Yeah, how many? - Shit, I'm not sure.

- I got it written down somewhere. - Yes.

Hello?

Hey.

Where is she?

She's in her room. She won't come out.

I mean, I haven't seen her this upset since...

Ever.

- You're burying the lead. - Which is saying something.

This is good news.

They broke up. He's gone.

Yeah, but I'm not going to break out the champagne

when she's this upset.

- He was cheating on her, Hank. - You're kidding.

I'll alert the media.

- Nice. - Why would he tell her that?

I don't know.

These things, they...

They hurt, you know?

I know.

Can I come in or are visiting hours over?

- Shut up. - There's my girl.

You can come in.

But you'd better not gloat.

Gloat? Me?

Never.

Please, you hated him.

Yes, I did. But I hate everybody.

And you've got a tough road ahead of you.

Nobody's gonna be good enough for my little girl.

Guess I finally understand why mom put up with your shit for so long.

What do you mean?

He's an asshole, and I hate his stinking guts right now.

But it doesn't mean I don't love him.

Yeah.

I get that.

And he was a great lover.

That's gross, honey.

Sorry.

Thought I was talking to a friend for a minute there.

Yeah, no, you are, and that's a great compliment.

But it doesn't make it any less grody.

Have to hand it to the guy, though.

He was honest.

OK, that's good, right?

In a totally soul-crushing, heartbreaking kind of way, sure.

He fessed up to being a lying, cheating,

skulduggerous little manwhore.

Come on, let's go.

We'll go to the canals. We'll walk on the canals.

Remember we used to do the shit out of that when you were a kid?

It's like penicillin for the lovelorn. Come on.

- Come on, let's go. - Don't you have a plane to catch?

I can always get one tomorrow.

Or the next day, or the next day.

There's no place I'd rather be.

I'm sorry, sweetie.