Original subtitles

Previously on Californication:

How many of those pills did you take? How many?

- No more than you. - What did you do?

Only what you made me.

Am I gonna be okay?

The doctors, they think you're gonna be fine.

- What about her? - You gotta get past this.

You gotta forgive yourself.

She was fucking looney tunes. She tried to kill you, Hank.

- You have a little flotsam and jetsam. - You blew him again, didn't you?

Goddamn it, Stu. I know about the blowie!

It was two, actually. It was two.

And you're gonna be hearing from my attorney, motherfucker.

- I want you to meet Gabriel. - Nice to meet you, Gabe.

What the fuck?

Sorry, Hank. You weren't supposed to see that.

I'm dropping out of school. I want to be a writer.

You gotta get your ass to rehab.

Get your head out of your ass and stop drinking.

Sooner or later, you're just gonna kill yourself.

Oh, shit.

This better not be an intervention.

Hey! It's time for group.

This place is inspiring, Hank.

Really, totally worth the 60 large, if you ask me.

Say, do they let you masturbate here?

I'm just curious, it'd be cool to blow a big, salty one right in...

big salty out there, don't you think?

Now, there is the surly, mean-spirited bastard that I know and love.

He's back.

Do I feel better? Yes.

Do I see the wisdom in a time-out or a tune-up?

- Sure. - Good.

I'm doing my best just to keep an open mind about this kumbaya shit.

- That's good. - But some of the clientele, Charlie...

- What's this? - It's a dimebag of daddy's little helper.

- It's gonna help take the edge off. - How'd you get this in?

My butt cheeks.

It feels good to finally unclench.

I'm disgusted...

yet delighted. Thank you.

But aren't you supposed to be supporting my sobriety?

Come on, weed don't count.

Oh, these queerios in here would beg to differ.

Twenty years ago, people partied too much. Now, everybody's an addict.

I know I'm a big fan of the bye-bye-pain juice...

but I don't think I'm an alcoholic, do you?

Charlie?

- Charlie, you listening to me? - Yeah. I'm with you.

Is that Robbie Mac?

- Who? - The actor.

- I don't know. - I hear he wants to leave CAA.

- Hold that thought. I'll say hello. - I was rolling in the deep with you.

Awesome, and I totally wanna hear about it. Give me five minutes, will you?

Being a child star fucked me up something fierce.

At the beginning, you know, it was so much fun.

It was all the M&M's you could possibly want from Craft Service...

and all the suction you could stand.

But by the time that I left The Wonder Years, I was...

I was shooting narcotics into my taint...

and letting some very questionable dudes blow me for drug money.

Sometimes simultaneously.

Hey, you know, that's okay, dude.

As my good friend and agent is fond of saying:

"Holes is holes." You know?

What about you, Hank? How are you feeling?

Well, since you asked...

I feel like the good Lord himself...

picked me up with his bare hands...

laid me down on a bed of rusty nails...

pinned my ankles behind my ears and stuck it in.

No Vaseline, no lube, no nothing. Not even a little spittle.

That motherfucker took his Darth Vader helmet...

that big Darth Vader helmet and just rammed it home.

He wrecked my pretty little virgin asshole, my sweet little brown bud.

Pulled out, came on my tits, wiped his dick on the curtains and left me for dead.

That's just me. How about you guys? How do you feel?

Is anybody else sitting in a puddle right now?

Splash!

Come on, Hank, let's... Let's get serious, okay?

Let's put on our big-boy pants and do some work.

All right? Give it a try.

- Okay. - Okay.

My name is Hank.

And...

- And... - And...

I'm an alcoholic.

- You are? - You are.

Now you're slapping labels on me, brother, and I don't appreciate that.

Hank, addiction is defined...

as continuing to do something in the face of mounting consequence.

I'm with you so far. Take me somewhere with this.

How would you label yourself?

I guess I see myself as an enthusiast.

A drug and alcohol enthusiast.

Hank, you're here because you abused alcohol...

to such an extent that your friends and family staged an intervention.

True, but they're a little screwy.

Really? Well, your friend Charlie said that you drank your own urine.

That... That is also true. But that was an honest mistake...

and not as unpleasant as it sounds, which is good to know if you're...

in a life-and-death situation.

You're welcome.

And you were distraught over a former lover who killed herself...

- ...and tried to kill you in the process. - Yeah. Well, it sounds kind of soapy...

when you put it like that, but who wouldn't be?

Isn't it normal to want to numb yourself when you're in pain?

Would a doctor operate without anesthesia?

Nailed it.

Hank, this is not an intellectual process.

This is not a polemic. Okay?

This is about letting go and letting God.

Well, that's what Batesy did.

He let go, let God, and he let you take him in your mouth.

Thank you for bringing this up. Hank is referencing an indiscretion of mine.

And it was completely unprofessional.

And it led to a five-week intense relationship. I have no regrets.

I learned a lot about myself during that time.

- I bet you did. - I explored my humanity.

And your flexibility.

I learned that I am capable of error...

but also capable of great passion.

Richard Bates will always be my favorite mistake.

Forgive me for asking...

- ...but why are you here? - Me?

Yeah, you. Why are you wasting all of our time?

Who are you, and why are you being so aggressive?

This is Faith. She's our new friend.

- You missed her introduction. - You were late. I'm being aggressive...

because everyone sitting here is in real pain.

You're just doing lame stand-up over there.

Maybe that's my process.

Oh, well, maybe you're just an asshole.

I am definitely an asshole. There's no doubt about that.

Hey, she's judging me. How come you're not coming down on her?

We do not judge those who judge.

Well, I think that's all for now.

Why don't we stand up and everybody hold hands?

God give us the serenity...

No, no, no, take his hand out of your pants. Take his hand out of your pants.

Robbie, what is it you're looking for in a representative?

It's quite simple, really.

I'm looking for a man who's an honest animal.

I'm looking for a man...

who's an advocate for me and my career.

And I want a man who's openly gay.

I see.

I want an agent who understands what I'm going through...

both as an artist...

and as a gay man.

I want a "gaygent."

Well...

That's... That's interesting.

- Because... - You're gay?

I'm gay?

Is that a question or a statement?

Exactly.

I don't understand.

Well, then, let me clear it up for you, Robbie.

If you sign with me...

If you put your career into my smooth, elegant hands...

you could sleep easy, like a baby...

content in the knowledge that your representative...

understands you from every conceivable angle.

Because...

Because...

I'm...

."gay?

- I knew it. - You did?

Yeah. I mean, I had a strong feeling.

A strong feeling? Really? Why? I'm just curious.

Well, you're very sensitive and kind...

yet incredibly carnal.

And you're wearing pink.

My gaydar is pinging, bro.

I have a really good feeling about this, Charlie.

Fucking men!

You know, I'm quitting men.

I'm fucking quitting men. Are you with me?

I'm with you. I'm with you whether I like it or not.

Because it is gonna be a long time...

before I trust myself around the male of the species.

Because I... I don't know what it is.

I just kind of turn them into...

wild animals.

- Oh, dude. - Yeah.

I mean, I know what you mean.

But you're missing the whole point of the thing.

They're born animals. We just...

We fool ourselves into thinking we can make them into these...

sensitive little pussy-eaters...

we could sit and watch The Bachelor with.

- Fuck. - What?

- It's my phone. - What's wrong?

- What? - Oh, my God.

- What? - It's... it... I...

it... It's that...

- I sent my résumé for a job. It's for... - Don't answer.

- Don't answer. - This is... They might want to interview...

Dude, you're baked.

You're gonna say something stupid and jacked up...

- I'm good. - ...like you fucking are doing.

Don't answer it.

- I'm gonna answer it. - No... Fuck.

- If you do, keep it down. - I'll answer.

I don't want Stuart to wake up and get a contact high.

- Good morning. - Oh, shit.

I'm sorry?

You're so crazy.

Hello.

Oh, really?

You do?

They want to interview me.

- Why? - Well, yeah.

I would love to come in for an interview.

Half an hour? Yeah, I could get there in half an hour.

Hey.

Hey.

Yeah?

Just saying hey.

Hey.

- We done? - No.

I wanted to apologize for being such a turd in the punch bowl this morning.

At least, I think it was me. Could've been you. Women's issues.

Hormonal fluctuations and whatnot.

Is it...? Sorry, was this an apology or...?

Okay, it was me. Yeah, Hank.

- Faith. - Nice to meet you, Faith.

What are you in for?

Well...

That's personal, don't you think?

Okay, well, then I will back up and make with the polite conversation.

What do you do in the real world?

My relationship to the real world would be tenuous, at best.

- I hear that. - But if you must know...

I traverse the globe...

in the company of musicians.

You're a groupie.

- I prefer "muse." - Sure, who wouldn't?

Nice work, if you can get it.

I'll take "groupie," but "muse" would really be more applicable...

since men have written songs about me.

Well, I can see why.

Hank, you're not my type.

- I wasn't trying to be. - Right.

- Because I'm not the least bit fuckable. - I didn't say that.

They kind of frown on that sort of thing here.

Not that it matters.

Because I only fall for extraordinary men.

Okay-

Would you say you're extraordinary?

Fuck if I know, dude.

Congrats, I think that's probably the first really honest thing I've heard you say.

So anything else you'd care to discuss?

No, that... That about covers it.

- Alrighty, then. - All right.

There she is, Rebecca Moody!

Rebecca Moody!

Marcy?

Please, I beg of you, just a few moments of your time.

Sit and spin, Stu. Sit and spin.

My heart aches for you, lover.

"For... " "Former."

- "Former lover." - Here.

Brought you cash.

No, just walking-around money. No strings attached.

That's disg... You think you can bribe me?

It's not a bribe when it's love.

It's not love when you're getting your hog polished by slutty starlets.

Marcy, it was just the twice with the one.

- Fuck you, Stu. - Okay.

Fuck me.

Wait, wait. I forgot.

Brought you some of this.

Figured you might be running low.

I miss making love with you, Marcy.

I miss my sexy wittle wubber fucky.

What about Lizzie?

Oh, please!

She was done with me the second that we wrapped Santa Monica Cop.

So you know what I did?

I cut her right the fuck out of the picture.

And she gave lousy blowies.

I mean, arrogant, lazy, toothy.

No.

Not fun. Not fun.

Hello. Wait, wait, wait, whoa.

What do we see here? Oh, my goodness.

- Oh, no! - No!

- It appears that Mommy... - I found that.

Is a little horny!

I was vacuuming! Shut up!

- I just found that. - I found it too!

- Don't. - You know...

I have a wonderful idea.

Don't. No. No, you don't.

Allow me to work on this with you, Marcy.

Let me taste you again.

- Oh, Jesus. - No, please.

Please.

Let me just lick all of your troubles away.

- Oh, Jesus. - No. No, no.

I'll give you one of Daddy's long, slow tongue baths.

Oh, my God.

Oh, God.

My snorkel.

Oh, God.

Oh, Jesus.

- That's what I'm saying right now. - Okay.

Take off your glasses.

- What's with the muscle? - Oh, him.

He gave me a ride.

- Why? - Because I spent the night at his place.

Oh, okay.

Well, that's not the least bit disgusting.

Not to mention dangerous. How do you know he's not a serial killer?

You should trust my judgment.

I should? Why? You have... You have terrible taste in the opposite sex.

- Good visit, Dad. I should get going. - You sit and you stay.

What's his name?

You don't know.

- Jane, you ignorant slut. - That's why I didn't introduce you.

I wasn't being rude, I just didn't retain the information.

I'm appalled.

And I'm changing the subject.

- How are you? - Seven different kinds of shitty.

Trying to get it down to two or three. You know, fighting the good fight.

Trying to make you proud of me, or at least a little less ashamed. How's school?

Dad, I told you, I'm not going. Working on a novel.

A novel. What...? What are you gonna fill a novel with?

Life. Love. Sex. Death.

- What else? - What do you know about any of those?

That's the point, Dad. I want the experience.

I want to start living.

No, living is highly overrated.

Sir?

Hey.

Ross.

It's nice to meet you. Roscoe.

I just wanna say...

I think that it's really cool what you're doing here.

- Respect. - I appreciate that.

Been through it a few times myself, actually. Yeah.

Doesn't always take the first time.

Eighty-five percent of first-time rehabbers eventually relapse.

So go easy on yourself, okay?

That's good to know.

What's your poison? The muffin?

Oh, no.

Heroin, coke, booze, speed. A little bit of everything, really.

And there's all the fucked-up sexual shit that goes along with it.

So that's the gist of it.

Classy but decadent.

Elegant yet understated.

And 100 percent environmentally correct.

Karen?

I'm sorry. I'm starving.

Who lives here?

I do. With my husband.

He's a musician.

Right. That... That makes total sense.

He's really, really concerned about the environment.

Groovy.

Good for him.

- Are you high right now? - No.

No, I am not. I'm highly professional.

Highly-

I'm sorry.

I am. I'm really fucking high right now.

I know. But it's so bad. I was smoking pot when you called...

but it was such an incredible opportunity, I didn't wanna miss out.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. It's so unprofessional.

I'm sorry.

When can you start?

What?

I have the job?

I know you're stoned, but I'm not talking French, am I?

Okay, you know your shit. You like to party.

- Oh, yeah. - You're gonna fit right in.

Just one thing, and you and I will get along just fine.

Okay. Yeah.

Don't fuck my husband.

Oh, God. I'm not a husband-fucker.

What's this, Mommy?

Oh, my God!

Worst mother ever!

- Stu! - Stuart! My namesake!

Get over here, boy! Whoa, help me!

Oh, God!

You got me, I got you...

Why didn't you say something?

About what?

Did you sign Robbie Mac?

Oh, that.

Yeah, I just... I wasn't sure if it was gonna stick.

Well, it stuck, all right. It's on Deadline.

- So it is. - Told you!

Good job, Runkle.

Congrats.

Thanks.

I'm really happy for you, man.

I know you've struggled with your sexuality for years.

It's gotta be liberating, right, outing yourself like this?

And what a way to do it.

Bravo, Runkle.

Bravo.

Wow, this is just out of control.

It is. And you know what?

I think a whole new world's about to open up for you.

Welcome to the mafia, buddy.

I'm sorry, Hank.

You're absolutely right.

I don't know anything about you.

But I want to.

Fuck!

- Oh, this cunt is... Juice... - What the fuck are you doing?

What does it look like I'm doing?

Feel that? It's my Kegels.

That's fancy for "pussy exercises."

- I don't mean to be rude... - Oh, that's right! Take that, Mommy!

Please get the fuck off me. Please?

You're getting soft.

I can feel you getting soft already.

Faggot!

You tell anyone about this, I'll kill you.

Oh, no, don't worry, I'm not gonna tell anybody.

Good.

God, I want more drugs!

Yeah, well, who doesn't?

Fuck you. Kill you!

Don't worry. Your prayers have been answered. I'm leaving.

That's it?

You're quitting?

Just like that?

Yeah. This shit ain't for me.

- Don't let me stop you. - I'm not.

That girl.

The one who came to visit.

My daughter.

Would you really want her to see you making a chump move like this?

Besides, if you bail...

you're never gonna find out what the fuck I'm doing here.

So...

for the last six months...

I've been on the road with...

one of the biggest bands in the world.

And sharing a bed with arguably...

the most gifted guitar player in the known universe.

And...

about 36 hours ago...

I woke up in Room 1009, Four Seasons...

somewhere in the middle of this fair country.

But on this particular morning, there was no waking him up...

because he was dead.

Yeah, I heard about that. I'm sorry.

Yeah, but you're right.

- That guy was a fucking genius. - Yeah, fuck.

He really was.

And married too, which is why I had to go.

He had a credit here.

Tried to get clean a bunch of times.

He said I could come here and use the credit if I ever got...

strung out from the road, you know?

I figured...

this was as good a place to grieve him as any.

Sounds like a solid plan.

Maybe it's not such a bad idea for you too, Hank.

What's so bad about taking a vacation from your life?

- Do you wanna get high? - Does the Pope shit in the woods?

I believe he does.

Do you have anything to roll with?

They don't call it the good book for nothing.

Old Testament or New?

I'm an old-school kind of girl.

I feel so bad.