Bojack Horseman (2014) s02e06 Episode Script

Higher Love

As your accountant, I felt it necessary to do this in person.
Us, too.
Because we're really accounting on you - No.
- to get in on the ground floor of this No, don't do this.
Please, God, no.
PB Livin' product.
Has this ever happened to you? Whatever it is, it hasn't happened.
Nothing has ever happened to me.
- You say you love a toasted bagel.
- I would never say that.
- I have celiac disease.
- Ding.
Bagel's ready.
- But wait.
- Son of a - Hey.
That bagel was too fast.
- No.
That's why PB Livin' presents, the Bagel Catcher.
- For all those hard-to-catch bagels.
- No, no.
Stop.
Enough.
Enough.
Stop talking! I can't take it anymore! PB Livin' is filing for bankruptcy.
- I'm shutting you down.
- I thought you were a customer.
I don't get what's happening.
What's happening is you two knuckleheads threw thousands of dollars into a bunch of dumb ideas.
You paid 50 grand to a bunch of kindergartners for the movie rights to the game "tag.
" Our business manager was over the moon for that.
Business manager? Who the hell is your business manager? Business-wise, this all seems like appropriate business.
You two are done.
This company is more in the red than Carrie on prom night.
So, what you're saying is, we're just one great idea away from breaking even? No.
You're You are out of money.
Mr.
Peanutbutter, you need to get a job.
- Are you hiring at your accounting firm? - Dude, no.
I'm waiting for my agent.
He'll be with me any moment.
Mr.
Peanutbutter is going back to work.
Yeah.
He's probably just organizing all the amazing opportunities.
I haven't heard from him in years, so they've probably been piling up.
Maybe I should just go check on him.
Hello, Ronnie? It's your favorite client, Mr.
Peanutbutter.
Well, I'm coming in.
I hope you're Oh! Oh, my God.
Ronnie, how'd you get that belt around your neck, then caught on the filing cabinet, which made your pants fall down while you were researching pornograph Oh, I see what happened here.
Morning time, Hollywoo.
- I'm A Ryan Seacrest Type.
- And I'm Some Lady.
Here's a thing written on a card.
Last night, major Hollywoo agent Ronnie Bonito was found dead in his office Ruh-roh.
in what authorities are calling a mishap of a sexual nature.
- What does that mean? - You know, auto-erotic asphyxiation.
Auto-a-what's it who's it? Oh, is that that thing where you strangle yourself in an attempt to heighten sexual arousal? It sure is.
Coming up, a food truck that serves just one thing: gravy.
Did you hear that? New food truck.
- We should go.
- I'm in.
Hey, can I get some lunch money? It's pizza day today.
Sure thing, sport.
Wait, where is it pizza day? - In my tummy.
- Oh Hey, BoJack, would you zip me up? My shoulder is killing me.
I'm not sleeping right.
We need to do something about that bed.
Just because I'm nocturnal doesn't mean I wanna be up all night.
- I propped it up with a Golden Globe.
- It still wobbles.
- Yeah.
Anyway, I got you something.
- Oh.
A beeper? BoJack, it's great, but you know, I already have one.
Yeah, you have a beeper, but I don't.
Now, you can page me whenever you want.
Huh.
BoJack, I love it, and you're gonna love it, too.
There's all kinds of codes we can send each other.
"Zero, zero, zero" is "call me," and "1-2-3" is "I miss you" and "8-0-0-8-5" is boobs.
What? Boobs? Oh, my God.
What scamp came up with that one? Okay, I gotta go.
Dinner tonight? Totally.
Let's hit that gravy truck.
Okay, love you.
Uh Uh No, I don't.
Aw "I love you.
No, I don't"? Uh Keys.
Uh-oh.
Get out.
Hold it.
Hold the elevator.
Ooh.
Ah.
Ee.
Ow.
Goddam it.
No.
No.
Ow.
Oh.
Ow.
Oh Coffee? Hup.
Rutabaga, this day already sucks.
My heel broke while I was at this new food truck, and I spilled a handful of gravy all over myself because they don't sell bowls, just gravy.
Should've gone to the bowl truck first.
That's where they get you.
Well, I guess the upside to being invisible around here is that none of these assholes will ever notice what a mess I am.
Well, if it makes you feel any better, I see what a mess you are.
Aw Do you need the movie-star speech? No, no, I'll be okay.
And how are you? Gotta look at paint for the new kitchen.
I have to pick a shade that won't clash with the splatter of blood from when I blow my brains out after talking to Katie about paint swatches all day.
We do have fun.
So, what's the plan for today? Find a new agent, go on auditions? No, I'm gonna do exactly what landed me Mr.
Peanutbutter's House, oh, so long ago.
Wander around L.
A.
with an open mind and an empty stomach until I get discovered.
But also, like, find a new agent and go on auditions, right? Or should I start stealing food from work? I'm just gonna go with the flow and leave everything up to destiny.
- Que sera quesadilla.
- You know we could lose the house, right? - Diane.
- Right? Diane, Diane, Diane.
- Diane.
- Aah! I wasn't stealing paper towels to use as dinner napkins.
Why? Here's a funny question for you: If Mr.
Peanutbutter said, "I love you.
No, I don't," would you need to talk about that later and figure out what he meant? Probably not, right? Because they're meaningless words? I mean, language evolves, right? How can anyone know what anything means? The answer is nobody can.
Nothing means anything.
So why bother talking about anything? In this scenario, are Mr.
Peanutbutter and I living in our house? Or are we squatting in an abandoned Barnes & Noble burning books to keep warm as we struggle through our Dickensian-style poverty? Uh "Zero, zero, zero.
" No idea what that means.
I think it means "call me.
" Ignore.
Wait, where's the ignore button? How do I ignore? I think with a beeper, you just ignore it.
- With what, my mind? - You seem a little stressed out.
That's because as soon as I'm done with work, I have to have a long, awkward conversation with Wanda about our relationship, unless I'm never done with work.
Diane, you magnificent bastard.
That's it.
I'll be out there in the stands.
And I'll be rooting for you, Secretariat.
Mm.
Yeah.
Your line is, "And I'll see you at the finish line.
" Yeah, I know.
I'm acting.
Great.
Now I gotta start all over.
Settle in, folks.
We could be here a while.
- Ow! Ooh.
- Ah, Princess Carolyn.
So good of you to join us eventually.
Sorry I'm late.
I had the worst morning.
You know who had an even "the worst-er" morning? - Ronnie Bonito.
Because he's dead.
- He is? He decided to strangle the dirty dangle and now that sweet chariot has come for to carry him home.
Everyone who was here on time is taking a moment.
- Of silence? - Yes.
Also to reach out to his former clients.
- To offer their condolences? - Yes.
Also to recruit them to the Vigor roster.
- A Vigor agent is a vigorous agent.
- Who do you want me to call? I have ins with a bunch of Bonito's clients including all the major J's: - Law, Lo, Leno, and J.
Abrams.
- Oh, that's wonderful news in the parallel universe in which you were on time today.
In this reality, however, we're all good.
You can lap up the leftovers though.
- "Mr.
Peanutbutter"? - Oh, and Princess Carolyn? Get your shoe fixed.
You look like a woman from an '80s deodorant commercial.
Here I go.
Destiny, don't fail me now.
Yeah.
Hitting the pavement.
This is how it happens for a guy like me.
Ew Out of my way, flyer.
Ugh.
Flyer.
Why do you have to be on my shoe in front of this store? Wait, a second.
Shoe.
Store.
Shoe store? Shoe store.
"Team players wanted"? Oh, I'm such a good team player, I make all the other team players look like garbage.
Lady Footlocker, meet your lord.
Finish line.
Great, we got it.
We got one take.
And now we gotta stop for the day.
What? No.
Why stop now? - I'm just getting warmed up.
- Union rules.
We're done.
Go home.
Go home? Why go home when we could extend this long day's journey into night? - Drinks on me, folks.
- I could use a drink.
- Or six.
- Great, Corduroy's driving.
Let's go.
Ah - I really needed this, BoJack.
- Me, too.
Yeah, man.
This day's been really hard on me.
Ever since I heard about that agent who died from that blue-face blastoff? - Blue-face blastoff? - The strokey chokey? - The two-neck squeeze? - What? You know, the one hand on the Adam's apple, the other one's on the Adam's banana? Oh, right.
Right.
Yeah.
The auto-erotic That could've been me.
I used to really be into that stuff.
I was a hardcore gasper.
Can't believe you have so many names for it.
Now I can't stop thinking about it.
I shouldn't even be alive right now.
Don't need to talk about how you masturbate.
- The orgasms you get - Okay, I guess we do.
It's like seeing a rainbow, but with all the colors.
- So, like a normal rainbow? - But it's too dangerous, man.
They say if you bite down on a lemon right at the point of climax, the lemon juice gives you the jolt you need to not pass out and die.
But still man, you're just rolling the dice.
Okay, this is getting really graphic.
Can we maybe talk about anything else? - Sure.
- Thank God.
Hey, man, it's funny you should mention God, because my new thing is the Bible.
Uh Tell me, have you accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and personal savior? So, noose-wise, what are we talking? You use a standard sailor's knot or more like your average birthday-present bow? - I beeped you, BoJack.
- Oh, hey.
About this morning - It's fine.
- Because when I said that I said it's fine.
You don't love me.
That's okay.
I don't love you.
- What? - Good night.
Morning time, Hollywoo.
- I'm A Ryan Seacrest Type.
- And I'm Some Lady.
On today's show, I sit down with Hank Hippopopalous to discuss his new smash hit, Hey, I Think You Can Dance.
Can you talk about your process? When I see someone, and I think they can dance, I say, "Hey, I think you can dance.
" And when I think they can't dance, I say, "No, I don't think you can dance.
" - And that is pretty much it.
- Fascinating.
- So, last night when - BoJack, it's not a big deal.
You don't love me, I don't love you.
We're having a good time.
It's fine.
Can't just say, "I don't love you" to someone.
- You said it to me.
- Yeah, but that was different.
- How was that different? - Because you do love me.
Right? - Like a little bit? - No.
Uh, for what it's worth, I love both you guys.
Shut up, Todd.
Grown-ups are talking.
Here you go, ma'am.
Jessica Atkinson, come on down.
Mr.
Peanutbutter? Would you like to see what's in box number one or box number two? Either way, it's a brand-new pair of shoes! Oh.
Hup.
Carolyn.
- Rutabaga - Coffee? I was thinking about you last night while Katie and I were locked in a fascinating debate about counter granite.
And what if I told you I used to work Ronnie Bonito's desk, and I happen to know that he had a client so hush-hush, - it wasn't even on the master list.
- What? Who? Tell me.
Whoa! Beloved novelist J.
D.
Salinger.
What? The author of Catcher in the Rye? - And others? - Yuh-huh.
- Isn't he dead? - He's "reclusive.
" Dude wanted to be left alone so much, he faked his own death.
Oh, my God.
Why are you giving this lead to me? - Because I like you, dummy.
- Huh.
Now we gotta wait for the fire department to come let us out of this elevator.
- Hey.
- Corduroy, what are you doing here? I need a favor.
Can you hold on to this for me? - Ew.
Is this your Bible? - No, no, no.
- It's my choking-off kit.
- Your kit? Yeah.
It has all my supplies.
Silk ties, a leather gag, velvet sock.
Lemon.
You gotta take this off my hands.
I can't trust myself with this.
I don't know if I want your jack-off kit at my house.
Please.
I got this girlfriend.
She loves me.
If I fall back into the old gasp-and-goo, it'll break her heart.
Wait.
So, you're saying if someone loves you, they don't want you to choke yourself while masturbating? Yeah.
It's really dangerous.
- All right.
I'll take it.
- Thanks, BoJack.
I still don't understand why you need a kit.
Can't you just use, like, a belt or a rope? Oh, I guess.
I mean, I guess you could use anything.
I mean, you could use an iPhone charger, a shoelace, a necktie, a jump-rope Hm Oh.
Ooh.
- Oh, hello.
I'm looking for some - Sorry, no looking allowed.
This store is for customers only.
Okay, then, I would like to buy a bicycle.
What would you recommend? - One with a bell, or? - You got me.
I don't know anything about bicycles.
I'm J.
D.
Salinger.
I faked my own death.
Mr.
Salinger.
Such a pleasure.
Princess Carolyn, big fan.
Let me guess, Catcher in the Rye? And others.
- I wanna say The Hobbi - Nope.
Look.
I'm an agent.
It doesn't matter whether I've read your work.
What matters is I can look you in the eye and tell you I'm a big fan.
The world is ready for your comeback, and I wanna help.
No, thank you.
Not interested.
Did that before, didn't work out well.
Fans were relentless.
The critics were cruel.
And that's why my motto is, "It's better to be alone.
" Which, come to think of it, is probably why I don't sell a lot of tandem bicycles.
But, J.
D.
Salinger, you are J.
D.
Salinger.
You are a goddamn American treasure.
But every time I go out in the world, people hound me about my books.
Well, book.
What if I told you there was a place where no one reads books? I'm listening.
A place where people only read headlines, lists and pictures.
A place where people hate reading so much, they hire others to do it for them and don't even pay a living wage.
What do you mean, like, modern reading slaves? Exactly.
And all those modern reading slaves really wanna be doing is writing things that, one day, other people will also avoid reading.
- Does such a place truly exist? - Come with me, J.
D.
Salinger.
Let's go to Hollywoo.
Hup! Oh - Hey.
- Hey.
- We need to talk.
- Okay.
You're probably wondering what this beautiful mahogany box is.
- I wasn't wondering that.
- It's my auto-erotic asphyxiation kit.
I've decided to do the funky Spider-Man.
- What? Funky Spider-Man? - I came up with that one myself.
Because he hangs, then he shoots webbing.
Wait.
Are you saying you want to auto-erotic asphyxiate yourself? Yes.
I do.
Even though it's very dangerous - and I could die.
- Oh.
Now, if you love me, you probably wouldn't want me to do it.
- Okay.
I get it.
- Since you don't, I should do it, right? I mean, there's no reason not to unless you love me.
- Do it.
- Wait.
Seriously? Seems like you've already made up your mind.
If you're that set on it, knock yourself out.
Only if I do it wrong.
Because as I mentioned before, it's very dangerous.
- Have fun.
- I'm serious.
I'm really gonna do it.
Great.
Put a towel down.
Not one of the good ones.
Morning time, Hollywoo.
I'm A Ryan Seacrest Type.
And I'm An Actress Or Something, I don't know, sitting in for Some Lady.
- Whoa.
What happened to her? - She got kidnapped.
Oh, boy.
Oh, my.
Ooh, wow.
Oh, hey.
Look who survived to masturbate another day.
Well, I didn't do it yet, obviously.
If I'm gonna do it, I'm gonna go all out.
A big job like that needs lumber, and pulleys, lemons, so forth.
I'm not gonna half-ass anything.
This is my orgasm we're talking about.
Okay.
Well, I wish you all the best.
- Not too late to stop me.
- I'm not gonna stop you.
- Good 'cause don't.
- All right, we're in agreement.
Stop fighting! Can't you two see what this is doing to me? I've been acting out.
Have a great day.
Todd? Get in the car.
It's time to get serious about auto-erotic asphyxiation.
Hooray! Question mark? Just play it cool, Todd.
No one needs to know why we're here.
Excuse me, I'm looking for something that will hold up a lot of weight.
Let's say something that could hoist up a horse comfortably by the neck.
Not for suicide purposes.
I'm trying to have a more fulfilling orgasm.
The world wept when news broke that J.
D.
Salinger died.
- J.
D.
Salinger died? - But I'm here to tell you, he didn't die.
J.
D.
Salinger didn't die? As one of the 20th century's most celebrated authors, J.
D.
Salinger has inspired countless dreamers, eighth graders and occasionally, assassins.
His spare lyricism and devotion to character will undoubtedly translate into a penetrating dramatic work for this, the golden age of television writing.
J.
D.
Take it away.
I wanna do a show where people ask celebrities trivia questions.
- What? - Like a game show? Yeah.
You know because since they're famous people, I think normal people would wanna see if they know trivia and stuff.
You know, like, Hollywoo stars and celebrities, what do they know? Do they know things? Let's find out.
What a hoot.
I love it, and I don't use that word with just anybody.
What do you call it? I call it Hollywoo Stars and What Do They Know? Do They Know Things? Let's Find Out.
It's maybe more of a working title.
I can see it on the marquee already.
- Must be a long marquee.
- It's long.
Yeah, yeah.
The celebrities can also do physical challenges.
Oh, it's perfect.
We've been searching for a companion for Hey, I Think You Can Dance.
But wait, wait one second.
Who's gonna host? Huh.
I've got the perfect guy.
Who wants to be in Nike Airs? Claire, you are looking off the charts "gorge" in those tennis shoes.
Would you like to buy a towel? Because I'm throwing one in for free.
- He's perfect.
- Mm-hm.
Mr.
Peanutbutter? How would you like to be the host of J.
D.
Salinger's new celebrity game show? What? I knew destiny had a plan for me.
You know, it just goes to show, with the right attitude, every single one of your dreams will always come true.
And if your dreams don't come true, it's probably because you just didn't have the right attitude.
Today, one agent did something that no one else could.
I'll give you two hints: catcher and rye.
Oh.
Nothing.
It's nothing.
Charley Witherspoon caught a rye bagel coming out of the toaster.
- Come again? - It was coming fast and hot.
One day, some genius will invent some sort of bagel catcher that takes the guesswork out of this task, but until then, Charley gets a gold star.
- Thanks, Dad.
I mean, Mr.
Dad.
- Oh Oh, boy.
Hey.
Wasn't sure if I'd see you.
Still alive? Because auto-erotic asphyxiation is so risky? Well, here I am, for now.
BoJack Wait.
Did you fix the bed? Yeah.
I was at the hardware store picking up supplies for my auto-erotic asphyxiation machine.
Because, as you are aware, I'm preparing to auto-erotic asphyxiate myself.
Figured I'd get stuff for the bed so you could at least get a good night's sleep.
Okay, BoJack.
Wanna talk about the elephant in the room? Wow.
Okay.
You know what? You know what? Here's First of all Wow.
All right, I can't even You know what? I Wow.
He is never gonna forget that.
What is this all about? This isn't about anything but the pursuit of the kind of orgasm that feels like a rainbow with every color.
- So, a regular rainbow.
- No.
So, if you don't mind, as long as you don't love me, I have a noose to step into.
I just need to release this lever, drop these bags of sand, which act as counterweights, and then just pull this nozzle.
- Perfect.
- Okay.
Have fun.
- Wait, Wanda.
- Okay, fine, you stupid baby.
I love you.
I I knew it.
But I'm not going to tell you not to do the funky Spider-Man.
- What? - You need to be responsible for yourself.
- That doesn't sound like me.
- I know.
But if you love me, too, you won't do it.
- I thought so.
- Okay.
Just for the record, I never really wanted to do this in the first place, Me not doing it is not a sign that I love you.
- It's just because I'm a coward.
- Okay.
- I don't love you.
- Sure, you don't.
I don't.
Come back here.
I don't love you.
You don't make me feel less broken.
I don't get it.
I singlehandedly got a Lady Footlocker store employee a primetime show and resurrected a certified dead man and nobody cared.
- Why do I do anything? - Hey.
Do you need the movie star speech? Yeah.
Okay.
Carolyn, you are the star of a movie.
This is the part of the movie where you get your heart broken.
Where the world tests you, and people treat you like shit.
But it has to happen this way.
Otherwise, the end of the movie, when you get everything you want, won't feel as rewarding.
There are assholes out there, but in the end, they don't matter.
Because this movie's not about them.
It's never been about them.
All this time, the movie's been about you.
Thanks.
- Carolyn? - Yes, Rutabaga? I think Katie and I are getting a divorce.
Corduroy? I don't want this thing anymore.
Corduroy? Hey, you decent, man? Oh, sweet Jesus.
Boxer versus raptor.
Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na-Na.

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