I love you, Karen... and I'm gonna spend
the rest of my life annoying the shit out of you.
Will you marry me, Karen?
You guys are officially back together?
For now. Until we fuck it up.
Could be any second now.
You gonna shit can 15 years experience
'cause a guy messes up one time?
Aah!
You got fired?
- Charlie Runkle. - Daisy.
I've been trying to get a frigging meeting
with Ronny Praeger.
- He's like the Spielberg of porn. - I'll see what I can do.
That is so awesome!
And don't worry. I will blow you.
No, we're gonna keep this strictly business.
I'm king of fuck mountain!
It's not a memoir.
It's a written account
of my sexual relationship with you.
Written by me as a fucking novel.
- Lew Ashby. - Hank Moody.
I got this book deal.
Wanna write about why everything I touch turns to gold.
Aah!
Oh, no! You didn't!
Lew!
Where you headed?
I'm taking fucking and punching
all over this fair country of ours.
- Mothers, lock up your sons. - And husbands.
- We made a huge mistake. - No.
I jumped in the car with you that night,
and we just tried to pick up where we left off.
I can't stay.
It's okay, dad. It was nice while it lasted.
I wanna get a divorce. I'm gonna be with Daisy.
- You fucked my man. - Aah!
- Maybe we should take a break. - I just left my wife for you!
You said I could have everything.
But don't worry your pretty little head about it.
We'll let my lawyer figure it out.
He's really good. Later, Runkle.
- That's him. - Him who?
- What do you want? - I'm here to see Becca Moody.
I got a job. It's in New York.
I think you should come. I can't live without this.
I feel kind of bad splitting them up right now.
Well, then don't. You go, I stay.
At the end of the day, it's all about her.
I wish you hadn't just said all that.
Why?
'Cause it just makes me love you even more.
Hank?
Mm.
Hank.
Yep. Present.
- Did you just... - No.
- You did! - Not me.
- I did not. - Hank...
Well, maybe for a second.
- Jesus christ! - No, don't be cross.
- You fell asleep. - I dozed.
- Barely. - Inside of me.
Maybe. For a second.
Now, it does not reflect poorly on you.
Or your vagina. It's a lovely vagina.
It's warm and cozy... inviting,
capacious, yet accommodating.
It's cheeky but not impudent, you know what I'm saying?
It's a lovely place to curl up inside.
And go to sleep.
Great. God, where's my fucking clothes?
N... not so fast.
Look, I may be tired,
But I'm also incredibly hard right now.
You feel that?
I just flexed my cock muscle.
That's pretty cool, huh?
Flexing it again and again and again.
Where's the harm in a few winks?
You know, single dadness is not as easy as it looks.
I gotta be up way early to make the morning meal
and get the kid to school.
Then I gotta come home and wrestle with the blank page.
You know, and before you know it,
it's time to get back in that fucking pickup line
all over again.
- Ever hear of carpooling? - And then I gotta... I gotta...
I gotta make some kind of vaguely healthy evening meal.
I gotta monitor her computer and texting activity.
It's fucking exhausting.
I mean, I barely even have time to get loaded anymore.
Excuse me.
- Was that... - No, you're wrong.
- But... - You're wrong.
Move on.
I thought you were all about keeping yourself pure for mom.
She's a friend, you know. we were doing friend-like stuff.
Practically napping.
Hey... good for you.
I'm not judging.
Mom's certainly not keeping herself pure for you.
- What? - Nothing. Move on.
What are you guys even doing here anyway?
You're supposed to be at the movies.
- We walked out. - It was so fucking lame, Hank.
Hank?
Really? Uh-uh, it's %r. Moody to you, little missy.
Mr. Moody.
Wait a second. You guys are stoned!
Dad... please.
Tell me where you got the weed.
I will kill the motherfucker. Tell me.
- In your typewriter. - I knew it!
Damn it.
All right.
Shit. Gimme what you got.
Fork it over. Everything.
I'm gonna weigh that.
No, no. H... hold on, ladies.
I'm not done with you.
Now, look, hey, I am very well aware
that I don't always set the best example,
but you guys are entirely too young
to be messing around with this stuff.
You know, it's true what they say about pot.
It's very much a gateway drug.
And it can be a gateway to some pretty cool things.
But it can also lead to poverty, despair,
stunted adolescence, man-breasts.
You think that's funny?
Oh, go on, get outta here. Both of you.
To be continued, young lady.
Oh...
What up, chocolate sweetness?
Who are you here to see?
- Runkle. - Whose uncle?
Runkle. Charlie Runkle.
Oh, the cute little bald guy.
Just so's you know,
not a pose that inspires confidence
in your one and only client.
It's this goddamn economy, Hank.
You can't blame everything on the economy, douche bag.
No? Can I blame it for the fact
that no one wants to publish your book?
Nonsense. People love me.
No one, Hank. Not a soul.
- What the fuck, Runkle? - I don't know.
I been collecting passes all morning.
It's too long. It's too self-indulgent.
It's too hateful, too misogynistic.
It's too soft. It's too mean-spirited.
Like those are bad things?
I... I can't believe I'm gonna say this out loud,
But what about the studios?
Nope. They're not biting either.
You're telling me that Hollywood doesn't want
something else from the unrepentant asshole,
that brought you crazy little thing called love one...
- Hank. - And dos?
Hank, I told you to play nice, didn't I?
I told you not to fuck the director's wife.
I told you not to leave a burning bag of your own feces
on the producer's doorstep.
That still cracks me up.
That's a big fucking bummer, Charlie.
I could really use an influx of "cashish" right about now.
The money for the Ashby book only went so far.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get in line, asshole.
I was kinda looking forward to the new Hank Moody book too,
you know?
What do you mean, he wants to reschedule?
Tell him I'll gnaw off his thimble dick
and feed it to my cats!
Ah, Runkle, quit beating your meat.
Never gets old, Sue.
Hank Moody, my boss, Sue Collini.
Oh. Pleasure to have you
at the Harry Greenberg agency, Hank.
The pleasure is all mine. Obviously.
Ah, your man Runkle...
now when you talk about a cock of the walk, huh...
really?
I mean, this guy's a stud. And his head... oh, uhh!
It just makes you wanna give it a big lick
and see what comes out of it.
- Please don't. - Oh, well, of course not.
It would be inappropriate.
Meet me for a drink later.
Uh, actually, I'm supposed to do something with Hank here.
No. I don't think we have any plans.
Yeah, I think we do.
No, I'm... pretty sure we don't.
Excellent. I'm all yours, Sue.
Right. Better lay down those carbs, Runkle.
We're goin' deep.
Collini... out.
What fresh hell is this?
- Hey. It's Rip Van Winkle. - Oh, hey!
You know, I think we should give it another shot.
You know, I took a nap. I'm fresh as a fucking daisy.
- Becca's dad, right? - Yikes.
It depends on what she's done to raise your ire.
Becca? Oh, no, Becca's adorable.
It's her father I have an issue with.
Oh, well, take a number and get in line.
I'll tell him you're waiting. If I see him, of course.
Felicia Koons. Chelsea's mom?
Oh, boy.
Howdy. Hank Moody.
Yeah. so I guess I was wondering
why my daughter came home stoned last night.
Are you sure she was stoned?
I know a stoned teenager when I see one.
I'm a college professor.
Shit. I guess the jig is up.
You know, far be it for me to pass judgment
on your... recreational activities,
but maybe you should make your dope
a little less accessible?
I mean, what else do I have to worry about?
Do you have guns in the house too?
Yes, I do, but I keep 'em in the freezer.
Right next to the heroin.
You know, you're absolutely right.
I fucked up. I... I won't do it again.
I get it.
That's just for my glaucoma anyway, you know?
Father.
Hey, speak of the she-devils.
- Can I go over to Chelsea's? - Well...
That would depend on Chelsea
and her lovely, far-too- young to be a mother here.
- Mom? - Hmm?
Sure. Why not?
Pick her up later. Actually, stay for dinner.
We're having some people over.
No. No, no, no. I don't play well with others.
It wouldn't turn out well for anybody.
- It's true, he doesn't. - I don't.
Look, if we're going to be bailing these two out of jail
every now and again,
we may as well get to know each other a little better.
So be there. Keep the weed at home.
Sure thing, teach.
And that brings us to the issue of the house.
- I just want my fair share. - Mm-hmm.
It's been sitting on the market for months now, Charlie.
It's not selling.
Well, maybe if you weren't too busy
bringing every unemployed actor in L.A.
with a cougar fetish back to my house,
you could focus on getting it sold.
First... it's our house.
And second, if you weren't too busy
trying to shove your angry inch into every damage case
That crosses your path,
we wouldn't even be in this mess to begin with.
Can I get a fucking amen?
Unce, unce!
Look, all I'm saying is I can't afford
to keep paying rent and mortgage at the same time.
He's hiding money somewhere. I know it!
There's nothing to hide! She snorted it all.
You're working as an agent again!
I'm working on commission!
Really? Yhat's pathetic, Charlie.
Agreed. It's the only way
I could get back in the business, okay?
It's not like the top five
are rolling out the red carpet for me.
Hmm. I wonder why. Oh, that's right.
They're probably afraid you'd jerk off all over it.
You know what? Have it your way, okay?
I'll just... I'll move back in.
- Hells no! - What, you said so yourself.
It's our house. My name's on the mortgage too.
You know?
That can't be right. Tell him, Marv!
What can I say?
It's perfectly within his rights.
Oh! Yes! Finally!
I win! Ehh!
- Asshole. - Hey.
I know you're saving the planet and all,
but it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole.
- Fuck you! - Fuck me?
Yeah, that's right. Fuck you!
- Live strong, asshole. - Aah!
Hello.
Oh! Hank Moody.
Hello.
I'd like to introduce you to Richard Bates, the writer.
Richard Bates. Wow.
He's going to be teaching here this year.
- It's a huge coup for us. - Big fan.
I just feel a slight man crush coming on.
Well, thank you, aren't you kind?
- This is my T.A. - Jill Robinson.
Nice to meet ya.
Jill, the pleasure is all yours.
Or mine.
Okay, ours.
Hank is quite the accomplished novelist
in his own right.
That's right. I googled you.
Mm. I feel pleasantly violated.
So you were just gonna...
show me to the little girl's room.
Oh, sure thing. Follow me.
- Tinkle, tinkle. - Right this way.
Drink with me. I insist.
- Oh, no, thank you. - No, no, please.
- No, I'm fine. - Oh...
Crack the sky was a big deal for me.
I felt like I was climbing Kilimanjaro with you.
Gave me a huge writing boner. Come on.
Please?
Pretty please?
To the blank page.
Mmm.
Oh!
Wow. That was something.
It sure was.
Haven't touched the stuff
since slick willy was in the White House.
- Fuck me. - Yes.
- Now pour me another. - Oh, no, no.
The bar just closed.
One was an honor, but I'm cutting you off.
Give me the fucking bottle, bush league,
before they come back.
- Mm-mm. - Give...
- No. no. - Give me the bottle.
- Mm-mm. No. Uh-uh. - Come here!
My balls. Oh, shit.
- Thank you. - Don't say anything.
Oh! Oh, my goodness.
Whose piece of shit Porsche is that?
- Stacy, what happened? - Oh, you wouldn't believe it.
- Some fucking asshole... - Well, you know...
It's actually kind of a classic.
- I just kind of... - Stacy, this is Becca's father.
Hank Moody, the writer.
Stacy, I do believe I can see the outline of your cock.
It looks like you've got yourself
a nice, big fire helmet down there.
I'm more of an anteater myself.
Enhances sensitivity.
Shall we dine?
Times are tough, Runkle.
I need you to sign motherfuckers and put them to work.
That's what I want. That's what you promised me.
Absolutely. You're right, Sue.
You can count on me.
I stepped away from the game for a little while,
but I am back now.
- I'm just a little rusty. - Rusty.
You mean like a trombone?
Hey, anybody ever give you one of those?
- I... don't believe so. - Trust me.
You'd remember. Analingus... with a tug job.
Ought to try it.
What's your favorite position?
- Sexually? - Yeah.
I don't see how that's at all relevant...
Yeah. I like a... stand up 69.
You ever try it?
That sounds... challenging.
Exactly!
Which is why you end up coming like a baby gorilla.
So what's your take on interoffice romance, huh?
I appreciate the interest, Sue.
Really, I do.
But I am right in the middle of a nasty divorce.
I'm what they call emotionally unavailable.
Emotions?
Who needs emotions?
I'm thinking about your tube steak.
Is that unavailable too?
Ah!
Oh ho ho!
Oh, you can play hard to get all you like, Runkle.
Whatever makes you wet.
But Sue Collini always gets the wienie.
Always.
Bottoms up, cowboy.
Right of way or not,
you were definitely hogging the road.
You flicked your cigarette at me.
Well sure. But you gave me the finger.
That got my irish up.
That was downright antisocial of you.
Yes. But you were honking your horn repeatedly.
Which brings us back full circle
to the fact that you were hogging the road.
- I'm just sayin'... - I had the right of way.
- Who says? - State of California.
- I don't agree. - He doesn't agree.
I don't agree.
Can we just change the subject, please?
I... I'm fine with that.
I mean, I've already moved on.
And I won't hold any grudges. I'm cool.
- Hate the game... not the playah. - I'll drink to that.
Unbelievable.
Uh... can we be excused?
Please. I insist.
Hey, ladies, no Mary Jane.
I'm serious. Try me.
I'm like a drug-sniffing dog with a hard-on for justice.
- Yeah. hey... - Father.
- Now get outta here. - Jesus.
Okay, I'm just gonna throw this out to the table.
What are you guys thinking, gay, bi-curious, huh?
What?
What is wrong with you?
What? I'm the asshole
just because I say what's on everybody's mind?
- It never occurred to me. - Actually, me neither.
I can't really say I see it myself.
Oh.
Little girls...
in pretty boxes.
Well, I'm not afraid to put it out there, you know?
And if my daughter decides she's a gay,
I cannot think of a nicer gal
that she can, you know, indulge her sapphic tendencies with.
That's vaguely sweet, I think.
Yes. Vaguely nauseating.
Where is the boom-boom room?
It's just down the hall, Richard, to your left.
Good squash.
Ten years sobriety, down the drain.
Nice job.
How is he gonna get up in front of a class?
- Well, you know what they say. - No, what do they say, Hank?
You really have to want to quit.
- You gotta... - Oh...
Hit rock bottom.
Can I have a word with you, dear?
Sure, darling.
So what's your story, morning glory?
I'm... 33.
Perfect.
I'm getting my phd on...
- Perfect. - English lit.
- I love to read. - Oh!
That's my drug of choice, the written word.
And, uh... I just ended a five-year relationship
that yielded me a big, fat nothing...
not to make it sound like
a cold, hard business deal, but...
Whatever.
And my 20s went by like a warm summer day,
and now my uterus is deteriorating with every breath.
So, yeah, I... I see it all.
You're handsome and you're funny and... really,
unless you're a serious prospect,
do not so much as smile at me.
Really, truly. Don't try to charm me.
It would just be a heinous crime
against the other sex, given this full disclosure.
And... I'm hard.
No, please, seriously. You're really dangerous.
Please stay away.
Uh...
Let's try again, shall we?
That's mighty white of you, Stace.
- Stacy. - Stacy.
Koons, right?
Uh, that's right.
Mm. You're the Dean
of this fine institute of fancy book learning?
Correct.
Which would make you... Dean Koons?
I've heard that one before.
Who wants to see me tuck and do the pee-pee dance?
- Oh! - Oh, my God.
Richard!
Come on. I can't be the only one.
- And then... - Where are the girls?
Just like that...
he unveiled his beautiful man-pussy.
His glorious...mangina.
Mm...mm...
Meet my peach, baby.
Blow on my dice.
I wanna swing that swing.
Don't you treat me nice.
- Richard, let me... - I'm wild for you.
Let me call you a cab. Richard, let me...
Sweet baby, I'm a child for you.
Richard, you know what,
why don't you stay in the guest room?
- Stacy. - Yeah.
Have you ever spent time with an 11-year-old boy
and wanted more from him than he was willing to give?
Have you ever breathed in the scent
of a woman's sweaty, unwashed sex
and just... mm...
wanted to bottle and sell it at market?
Have you ever been so drunk on cock
you howled at the moon
and begged for a few inches more?
Ladies?
Dean Koons?
All these questions and more will be answered
in my new novel.
- Ha! - Let's get you dressed.
First... I wanna go for a swim!
- Arrgh! - Oh!
Whoo!
- love that guy.
Big fan.
- Big dick. - Wow!
What do you want, Charlie? I'm watching my stories.
Marcy Ellen Runkle.
I love you.
Oh. Go home, you miserable sack of shit.
Sleep it off!
But this is my home!
This! And you know why?
Because Marcy lives here.
She's my home.
- My true west. - North.
- What? - True north.
- That's what they say. - Who?
Oh.
What?
Hey...
Marce...
Let's give it another shot, hmm?
What do you say?
- No? - Okay, fair enough.
Can I use the bathroom?
I have to go numero dos,
and I don't know if I'm gonna make it
back to Westwood in time.
Make it quick, asshole.
You sure Becca's okay to spend the night?
Yeah. Let her sleep.
I'll drop her off in the morning.
But you'll, uh, you'll keep an eye on them?
Oh, right.
For signs of lesbianism. Yeah. Will do.
I'll be vigilant.
Sorry about the drama tonight.
You must think I'm a world-class a-hole.
Hmm... don't know about the world-class.
Yeah, well, tHank you. What about bates?
Is he gonna be able to do his thing?
From rehab? I doubt it.
You wouldn't happen to know of any other bad-boy novelists
looking for a teaching gig, would you?
I don't know.
I will, uh, bring it up at the next union meeting.
Good night.
Night.
Where ya headed?
Just home to the cats.
Sounds hot.
How 'bout a libation?
Oh! Like that could possibly end well.
Oh, look at you with the foresight and all.
- Well played, lady. - THanks.
Good night, Mr. Moody.
'Twas a pleasure meeting you.
Good night, psycho. Take good care of that uterus.
Oh, my God, Charlie.
- What are you doing in there? - It's my i-b-s!
You know how it kicks in in times of extreme duress.
Well, this is one of those times!
Aah!
All right. It's all right.
Miserable slob.
Guest room. Go.
What up, lady fair?
Hank, it's late.
And yet you don't sound even remotely sleepy.
- Burning the midnight oil? - Something like that.
I get it. Big date, huh?
I'm not sure how big it was.
Gross.
Bad breath. H-o-b.
- H-o-b? - Hair on back.
Oh. Well, now I'm starting to feel better.
- What about you? - What about me?
Our monkey in the middle said something about
crossing paths with a friend of yours.
Oh, she's a little meddler, that one.
That she is.
Well, not to worry. Bad breath.
H-o-b.
Mm. I miss you.
I miss you too.
It ain't the same without you, you know.
That's nice to hear.
I think it's good, though.
- What's good? - We're... living our lives.
We're being all normal and responsible and...
like real, live grownups.
Well, yeah, I do feel vaguely functional these days.
You know, I think you might even be proud of me.
I'm always proud of you.
Even when I'm not.
That's nice to hear.
- But... - But what?
What if, in the process of being...
well, responsible and grown-up like, we...
just kinda get over each other?
What if...
you tell me about our daughter.
Well... things are changing, Karen,
just like you said they would.
I mean, fast, you know, but I'm...
I'm holding on as hard as I can,
and I am not gonna let go.
I mean, I... I won't forget you.
Sync by honeybunny - corrected by chamallow35 www.addic7ed.com