Original subtitles

Hi, I'm Don Konkey.

I'm a photographer.

I'm schizophrenic.

This is Lucy Spiller, the editor of Dirt Now magazine.

She helps me figure out what's real.

My wall is naked. I don't like it.

I got these really great photos of Prince Tyreese,

the basketball star, having sex with a stripper.

These are fantastic.

Lucy wanted to use the pictures to get Prince Tyreese

to give her info on a missing R 'n B star singer, Aundre G.

- Aundre G is dead. - You want a chance to crack it?

- Yeah. - Don't make me regret it.

That's Willa McPherson,

Lucy gave her a hot lead in a breaking story.

But I was obviously wrong because I gave you the goddamn tip

and you came back with dick.

- She blew it. - I'm sorry.

This is Jack Dawson, he's a big, big action star.

How do you keep the family together

despite the pressures of a big Hollywood career.

Well, it is all about family, isn't it?

I am officially Jack Dawson's new interior decorator.

That's Lucy's brother, Leo.

Jack and Leo sitting in a tree...

That's Holt MacLaren and his girlfriend Julia Mallory.

Holt gave Lucy dirt on Kira Klay.

She ODed and died.

Then he found out, he got pissed off and crashed his car.

Holt's girlfriend got hurt real bad.

And when she went back to work on her sitcom, she didn't do so well.

- Cut! - So they fired her.

Things are going pretty well for me though.

After Kira died, she moved in with me.

Just take more pictures of me.

She used to come in public with me all the time.

Now she's more of a homebody.

Which is cool,

'cause she's about to pop at any minute.

Lucy, it's your mother.

Weren't we supposed to meet at 5?

I have it in my book. It's 5. We have a reservation.

You better be coming.

Hi, mom.

Sorry I'm late.

Traffic was bad on Sunset.

Darling, this is Paul Weston.

Hi.

We met in Church. Few months ago.

Church?

Did somebody die?

Paul, this is my daughter Lucy.

- It's nice to meet you. - Nice to meet you.

I joined All Saints in Beverly Hills.

I like the music.

And what do you like?

Your mother.

Paul is in real estate.

Parking lots really.

Lucy, Paul and I are going on a cruise next week.

- To the British Islands. - Nice.

We decided that a trip like that would be

so much more special if we were celebrating something.

What are you celebrating?

We're getting married, Lucy.

Day after tomorrow. Right here in the hotel.

I want you and your brother to give me away.

You're gonna need a new dress!

Does Leo know about this?

Yes. He's doing the flowers.

Excuse me, can I get and tangare and tonic.

And 50 bucks if it's here before I turn around.

You're a brave man.

You've only just met Paul, darling.

Do you have to alienate him so soon?

Mock-up is on your desk. Michelle wants to see you

about the cover and you have a 9 a.m. newsstand meeting.

Oh, here's your coffee.

That's not Spanish leather.

That's rawhide. Use the colorship until you get it.

And cancel my plans with Felicia on Tuesday.

- My mother is getting married. - Does mom have a name?

Well,

I like Bitchface but why don't we stick with Dorothy?

Okay. February 20th, Dorothy's wedding.

- That can't be the date. - Yesterday is 18th and today is 19th.

Is there a problem?

Where's my coffee?

Do it.

Leo, I swear to God I'm gonna kill her, call me.

Your car is here.

Can you believe this whole carpool shit?

I can drive myself to the studio.

That's how they control you.

Especially the 1st day, they do it for all the stars.

You're gonna be okay today?

- I'm not an invalid. - I'm not saying you...

I just love you, okay?

Hey, Holt.

I love you too.

Kick ass today, okay?

I'll call you later.

Okay, everybody change of plans.

We're dropping our 3 cover options.

Why? We're almost there with "hero pets".

You just answered your own question.

Also because of this, Teri.

My source at People tells me

they're running this photo on their next cover

with the headline "let us sleep in peace".

It's supposed to be Aundre G in seclusion in the Virgin Islands.

Just in time for the release of his new CD, what a coincidence!

Yeah, I think it's bullshit.

Widow G and Aundre's manager are making huge bucks off his new CDs.

My sources say that Aundre G was murdered.

Some sort of dispute with his manager Tweedy MacDaniel.

Yeah, Elliott.

I'll cover all the businesses in St Croix.

If he's there, someone's had to have seen him.

Okay, good.

And Adam, check out his girlfriend's relationship with Tweedy.

Okay, I'll talk to the cops. They don't usually keep

an open missing person file on someone who's in seclusion.

I know someone at the record company.

Let me see what I can dig up on Tweedy and Aundre's relationship.

Okay, I want the truth, guys. And just as badly,

I wanna make People magazine suffer.

So you have 12 hours.

Lucy. Look, I'm really

really sorry about last week. If I can make it up to you...

It's doubtful.

Oh, um...

I can look into the shooting in his last concert if that...

Okay, Willa, here you go.

Here is an interview with a stripper

who spent an evening with Prince Tyreese.

Prince Tyreese the basketball player?

No, Prince Tyreese the heir to the throne of Ireland.

Write it up. 800 words. Have it on my desk in an hour.

My daddy used to call these "one eyed jacks".

He'd make them for us on Sundays.

Oh, you need a fork.

Thanks, baby.

Little salt.

I have to go now.

But if anything happens with you know...

You know how to reach me.

Oh yeah, that's a good one. Phillip K. Dick.

He's the best. You'll like that.

See you later.

Get in.

You lied to me.

My source at People says that they're doing a cover story

that says that "Aundre G is alive and well" and

drinking rhum out of a coconut somewhere in the South Caribbean.

That's bullshit.

Prove it.

Why should I?

I don't know what this shit is all about.

But I'm finished with it.

I've got something for you.

This is messed up.

You told me you gave me the negative from those photos.

I did. This is something different.

This is a little interview with your friend Stormy.

You know, she's quite eloquent for a stripper.

Blackmail is a crime.

Do you really think that Twedy should be allowed

to drive around in a million dollar Ferrari

while Aundre G's head is vacuum-packed into a pickle jar?

I already told you everything I know.

You said it was enough.

But now because of the People story, I can't trust you.

- I need facts. - I have a family.

So did Aundre G.

Where's the head?

Tweedy said it was a collector's item.

- Aundre's head? - Yeah.

That's all I know.

Tweedy MacDaniel.

What does he collect?

Kept money, it's gotta something.

Cars, hookers, stamps.

Ferraris. He just bought 2 quarter horses. And wine.

- Wine? - He has over a thousand bottles.

Great. Find out where he keeps them.

I need to see you today. It's urgent.

Call me back.

Hi.

Hey.

So, not only is she getting married

on 3 days notice to some stranger,

but she's doing it on the anniversary of Dad's death.

How sick is that?

To be honest, I don't even know if she remembers.

She remembers the day I got a DUI when I was 20.

In her defence, it was Christmas.

Listen, Dad's death was 25 years ago.

There is a lot of valium under that bridge.

It's just a day.

Not it will never be just a day to me.

You don't have to go.

If I don't, she'll only hold it against me.

God love her.

So why were you whispering this morning?

Are you seeing someone?

Not really.

Come on, is it a man or a woman?

What am I saying? You are so not bi.

You haven't been with a woman in years.

- Six months. - Whatever.

Come on, you can't keep a secret from your big sister.

- Who? What? Where? - Nothing's going on.

You are lying, it's so obvious.

I'm rarely ***

I can't believe you're not gonna tell me about your latest conquest.

- You always tell me. - This time I can't.

You can't or you won't?

I can't. And I don't wanna.

Let's order.

So how's it going?

Well...

my penmanship sucks and I was only half an hour early this morning

which I guess is still considered late.

On the bright side, her coffee was the perfect shade of shit.

So I'm happy.

You're gonna do fine.

Just as long as you don't make the mistake the last guy did.

- What's that? - Get married.

- What do you mean? - Last guy was getting married,

all his wedding prep interfered with his work.

She canned his ass when she caught him on the phone with his caterer.

- Oh, shit. - Are you getting married?

I have to. Because of the baby.

Don, there you are.

Oh, hi, Lucy.

We had a 3 o'clock appointment. I've been looking for you.

I had to go pee.

It's 3:50.

- Sorry. - This is important.

I need you to take a picture today. It's for the cover.

You don't wash your hands?

Are you okay?

- Yeah, real good. - Good, because this is sensitive.

Aundre G. the singer. He was murdered.

I need you to the Cabrio wine vault in Sun Valley.

And check out Tweedy MacDaniel's collection.

You're looking for Aundre G's head.

Don.

The manager thinks you're a photographer for Wine Spectator Magazine.

Don, it's clean.

- Your hand. - Hmm, yeah.

- Thank you, Lucy. - Okay, sweetie.

You wouldn't think a guy like Tweedy MacDaniel

would give a shit about fine wine. But look at this.

He's got it all fixed up.

That's the front door. I'll be back in a sec.

Okay.

D amn!

Basketball star with a prostitute. Is it news?

That he wanted her to bang him in the ass with a strap-on...

that's your lead.

I'm really starting to question your commitment.

My commitment?

You know, I took some of the drugs

that Garbo woman was selling so that she would trust me.

I don't even take aspirine. I was sick all night from it.

Who the hell asked you to take drugs?

I just wanted you

to know that I have the balls for the job.

The story didn't call for balls.

It called for brains, don't confuse the two.

Willa.

There's a convention of bariatric surgeons at the W

that ends tonight.

Find a doctor Cosar and ask him and Vienna Smith.

Vienna Smith had her stomach stapled?

I thought she was all about diet and exercise.

Well, confirm the story

and maybe we'll do use it next week.

Thanks Lucy.

Hey!

Who said that,

Over here.

Wow!

Aundre G?

Sure ain't Marie Antoinette!

I'm supposed to take a few pictures of you.

Knock yourself out!

My right side is my best side.

Okay.

How do I look?

Pretty good. Considenring...

you have no body.

I guess that's it, thanks.

Hey, where are you going?

I gotta get these pictures back to Lucy.

She's kinda like counting on them.

But you just got here!

Come on, man, don't you wanna hear me singing?

Sorry.

Excuse me!

What do you think?

I think I'm in the middle of my work day.

Well, here's what I'm thinking. I'm gonna be wearing Ralph Lauren

- and you always look so pretty in blue. - Mother.

I know, you wanna pick it out yourself but I was in Beverly Hills.

Mother.

You're getting remarried on the day that Dad died.

Yes.

- Don't think you that's kinda strange? - Not really.

Your dad did as he chose that day, now so am I.

You act like it's some kind of retribution.

- How can you blame him? - It was a hostile act.

He did it at home.

There was no note, no explanation.

Why should I honor that day?

Because it's a pretty significant day to me.

Lucy, I took you to that doctor.

We talked about it for nights, read books.

What more could I do?

Well, you could try being a mother for once.

Listen, I'm sorry, I've got so much work to do.

It's been his day for 25 years, Lucy.

I want it back.

Who the hell?

Nice office.

Mr. MacDaniel hmm.

I'm sorry, do we have an appointment?

I've been hearing some shit about your magazine that

- just don't sit right with me. - Sorry to hear that.

I got people in my offices

telling me that some of your people

have been asking some questions.

- About? - About my boy Aundre G.

Everybody who knows me knows that I

drop hundreds of thousands of my own money

looking for Aundre. He was like a brother to me.

Well, of course there's been some interesting Aundre G story here.

You know his disappearance, the new CD.

- But I can assure you, Mr. MacDaniel. - Tweedy.

Now that we know he's off on some island somewhere,

we won't be doing any stories on him.

Glad to hear that.

Some of them questions were kinda like... insulting.

It seemed like your magazine was looking to diss Tweedy.

We never set out to diss anybody, Tweedy. It's not what...

It's not what we do. We...

We just seek the truth, that's all.

People be so quick to judge me.

They don't leave their kids spending night at my house.

I'm supposed to be some ghetto violence son of a bitch.

But I can assure you

my kids don't *** for nothing.

See, Brent. That's your name, right?

Yes, it is.

Ain't nobody ever gave me nothing.

Except for God.

I know that nobody

will take that from me.

If I was killer, Brett,

you'd wanna stay clear as smoke.

Yeah.

My God! These are horrific!

I love them!

This is gonna make a great cover story.

Yeah.

He's a nice guy.

Who?

Aundre. Aundre G.

I don't like the way you're sounding.

Sorry, Lucy.

Don, you have to take your meds, honey.

I know you don't like them but

do you remember the hospital?

I don't need the hospital. I'm fine.

The last time I didn't know where you were,

you were sleeping next to the freeway.

That guy hurt you.

Don, you have to take care of yourself.

Okay.

I have another job for you.

Okay.

What is this?

It's dope.

You're yummy.

Oh my God!

Oh my God! I'm gonna puke.

Don't worry.

It happens to everyone the first time they smoke it.

Okay, listen up everyone.

We're gonna crash a cover on Aundre G's murder.

Check it out.

What do you have?

You can't put that on the cover, Lucy.

We're gonna polybag it with an explicit warning label.

And run the headshot inside.

- That is fantastic! - Isn't it?

Keep Barrow out of the loop.

He had a shitfit last time. This time we have photos.

The LAPD will be notified when we go to press. Let's get to work.

The wall is locked.

Hi.

Where have you been?

What do you mean?

You haven't been home for 3 hours.

- I was out. - Who with?

Garbo. God, what's with the interrogation?

I thought we were gonna have dinner, celebrate my first day.

And I was supposed to wait around for you all day?

No, I just thought we had plans.

We were out of weed. Jesus!

Did you eat already?

No.

- How was work? - It was fine.

My stomach's bothered me a little.

Hey, you want a grilled cheese sandwich?

Okay.

I can't believe you'd do this to me.

I can't believe you're banging Jack Dawson.

Republican family man super action macho homo Jack Dawson!

If I wanted you to know, I'd have told you. Jesus Christ, Lucy!

It's not like I'm gonna publish these.

You know I wouldn't do that, right?

You had your own brother followeed by the stalkarazzi

so don't act all indignant!

Oh my God!

This isn't serious, is it?

Yes. I love him and he loves me.

Why is it so hard to believe?

Two people can meet and actually fall in love.

Oh, Leo, he's a movie star.

I've covered this kind of story a thousand times!

I'm not a story. I'm your goddamn family!

Can you be happy for anybody?

I meet a terrific person

and you diminish it like it's some piece of gossip.

Mom finally finds someone she can fall in love again with

after 25 years and you shit all over that too.

Hey, Leo.

Don't! Just don't with the big sister act, okay?

God!

You know, I'm embarrassed for us both.

Kira!

Baby!

Is this it?

Don't worry.

You're gonna be fine, okay?

- I'm not gonna go anywhere? - Okay.

Gotta get your head up.

You don't want to have your child on the floor, sweetheart.

- Here you go. - It hurts.

It hurts!

It hurts.

It's okay.

Don't cry.

It's okay.

Dearest Lucy, I had a dream which was not at all a dream...

I did this for you. Someday you'll understand. Dad.

So then you became a bariatric surgeon.

**, never looked back.

I'm all about helping people so.

So you think you got something to work with there?

Oh yeah!

Yeah, wow! This is gonna make my thesis much more exciting.

Thank you.

Nice shoes.

They're K-Spade?

Uh, yeah.

You know, I've got a video

of me performing surgery. It's in my room.

Oh... uh... that might be helpful.

I also have a few questions about

the types of patients you treat so...

Well, come on upn I'll be happy to tell you anything you wanna know.

- Yeah? - Okay.

You're doing great, baby.

It's gonna be fine.

Come on. Come on. Pull. Pull.

Okay. Just push. Okay. Push!

I can see soemthing.

Here it comes! Here it comes!

Oh wow!

Look! Look! It's a boy!

What? What? What?

There's another one.

Yeah, some patients...

are very private about this surgery.

You're sure I can't get you anything?

They like people to think all they took

is a little exercise and the willpower.

But if they were capable of self-control,

I wouldn't be in business now, would I?

Here's to gluttony.

So I imagine you treat celebrities.

They're the worst.

Come on, sit by me, you can see better.

I can see fine, thank you.

I heard that Viena Smith got her stomach stappled.

- I mean she... - Come on!

Look, I didn't come up here to do anything.

That's a load of shit now, isn't it?

You don't think you're the first reporter to try

to pry privileged client information from me, do you?

Sure you don't want a drink?

I'm not screwing you.

It's not your precious bloom that I'm interested in.

My feet?

Oh God! They're so small and denty, alabaster.

I'm guessing a perfect size 8.

You let me be who I have to be and I'll give you what you want.

Off the record, of course.

No touching.

Good.

Now dangle it.

Dangle it.

No, no, don't let it drop. Don't let it drop.

Oh yeah, you make me so hard!

Hold it up!

Hold the goddamn foot up!

Yeah, yeah.

Well don't close your eyes, look at me. Look at me!

Please! Please! Please! Please! Please!

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

It's time for me to go, Don.

No.

I'm gonna make you French toasts.

And it's time for you to go back on your meds.

No, I don't wanna go back on my meds, they make me...

feel bad.

You have to.

I don't wanna. I don't...

I love you.

I don't wanna be alone again.

You wan't be. Okay?

Tristan?

No. It's his son.

You're all he has.

Come here.

Bitter.

It's okay, baby.

What happened?

I told you not to go with this story.

I don't work for you, Brent.

And this time I had photographic evidence.

Really?

'Cause the cops showed up

at the storage falicity and apparently

there was no head to be found.

I guess someone got tipped off.

No head, no confirmation that Andre G is really dead

or that the head is actually his.

I mean the cops are gonna be all over your boy Don.

This story is solid.

I ran this whole thing by legal so unless you brought muffins,

I'd think that we're done here.

Beyond that,

these photos...

they're smut

and publishing them is just venal sensation.

This coming from a man who's never had a

magazine subscription he could read with his pants on.

We don't even know if they're real!

Oh they're real! The guy had Andre G's head in his wine cellar.

If the cops can't prove it, that's their problem.

Well...

I hope this sells.

'Cause the polybagging is gonna blow your budget all to hell.

And given that this is the 4th week in a row,

you've gone over budget. According to the terms of your contract,

you just forfeited your annual bonus.

That's bullshit.

Polybagging is a production cost, it's not on the editorial budget.

It is now.

Kira!

Tristan.

Yeah.

This is a very special day for the Spiller family.

25 years ago, my mother's 1st husband, my father,

hanged himself in our living room.

Ever since then, I have questioned

the whole idea of love and commitment.

It's nice to see that my mother doesn't share the shame doubt.

And neither does my brother apparently.

Good for them and I mean that.

To Mom and Paul.

May the truth never infrige upon your happiness.

Well, instead of being the day dad killed himself,

it will now be the day you ruined Mom's wedding.

Well done.

At least, I showed.

Transcript and synch by Travis www.forom.com

Repair and Synchronization by Easy Subtitles Synchronizer 1.0.0.0