Californication s06e01 Episode Script

Previously on Californication: You're amazing.
A goddess.
You deserve the white dress and the happy ending.
I'm just not the guy to give it to you.
This man's a monster.
He likes to fuck women in the ass and then tell them that he just wants to keep it casual.
Guys, it's really nice to be fought over, but My God! This is never going anywhere, is it? - What? - You'll never be able to commit to another woman.
Congratulations, Karen.
- I don't know how you did it, but - What? I will love you till the end of time.
But I can no longer be your husband.
It's such a fucking relief.
- Now what? - You stay here, stand still.
Don't move.
Here, tonight, have dinner with me.
Goddamn it, the truth just sounds better.
Just, come on, tell me "I love you.
" Just one time, tell me.
Just come home.
- I saw that! - Jesus.
I think it's the pills.
- What pills? - I shouldn't be drinking.
- I started taking these antidepressants.
- How many did you take? No more than you did.
What did? What did you do? Carrie? What did you do? Only what you made me.
Tell me you love me.
- Hello.
- Hey.
Can I get you a drink? I think that's my line.
Hank.
- And? - And it's nice to meet me? I'm not sure, but I think this is the part where you tell me your name.
Why would I do that? Because that's what we do in polite society, lady.
That's what separates us from the monkeys.
And people from Long Island.
- Karen, Karen, Karen.
- Why are you doing that? It's just so not what I expected.
- What did? What did you expect? - Something more exotic.
I mean, you seem like a Sasha.
- Or a Or a Pasha.
- Pasha? Definitely an "asha" of some sort.
- I'm sorry to disappoint.
- I'm not disappointed.
I mean, if I was any more excited my enormous man-sized diaper would be soaking wet.
And that would be embarrassing.
- That's disgusting.
- Yet endearing.
Not really.
Refill? How are you feeling, Hank? Because I'm starting to feel really fucking groovy.
What did you do? Only what you made me.
Tell me you love me.
Hello again.
I love you.
I'm gonna let some light in.
Hey, tell me.
What do you remember? I remember everything, Karen.
No.
About that night.
You didn't show up for dinner.
I kept calling you.
You didn't pick up.
I got worried, so I drove up to Charlie's.
When I arrived, the door was open.
And that's That's where I found you.
And her.
- Carrie? - Yeah.
I didn't fuck her, Karen.
I swear.
- It so doesn't matter.
- It so does matter.
She made me a drink.
A really strong drink.
Apparently.
Am I gonna be okay? You've been in and out for a couple of days now.
but the doctors They think you're gonna be fine.
Well, too bad for you.
What about her? Hank? You don't remember me, do you? We had dinner once.
You're her friend.
Melissa, right? Sarah.
- Apologies.
Sorry.
- No worries.
We're all interchangeable, right, us ladies? No, that's That's not me.
I don't think that way.
How is she? Well she's been on life support since she got here.
No signs of improvement.
No signs of anything, really.
She's gone.
We're just waiting for the parents to pull the plug.
See, unlike you, they're having a really hard time letting her go.
She loved you, Hank.
Despite all the evidence to the contrary she thought you were the one.
No matter how many times I told her to let you go or just walk away she wouldn't do it.
I just wish you would have let her down a little easier.
A little sooner.
How dare you! Get the fuck out of here! Or do you want to wait till the parents come? They'll be here any minute.
- Sweetie, are you okay? - No, no, no.
Just leave me alone.
Slow down, buddy.
- You're approaching blotto.
- Thank goodness.
You know what that means.
Next stop, blackout station.
I could've gotten there a lot sooner, but who's the squishy little pussy fart who wouldn't buy drugs with me? I just wanted to get you out of the house.
Blow the stink off.
I like my stink.
It's like Obsession for dirt bags.
So, I have an offer for you! Not even a smile? You always laugh when I do that.
I don't feel very much like laughing these days.
Or working, for that matter.
The very thought makes my asshole quiver.
No, actually, more like a throb.
Have you ever had a throbbing asshole, Charlie? - I have.
- I bet.
You've been home a week, Hank.
You're lucky to be alive.
You're sitting around pulverizing your liver.
Yeah, that.
And I'm contemplating a new novel! That's great! Really? Yeah, it's about a miserable piece of shit who drinks himself to death.
I'm in the research phase.
You gotta get past this, man.
You gotta forgive yourself.
I don't gotta do nothing but stay black and die, motherfucker.
It wasn't your fault.
She was fucking looney tunes! She tried to kill you, Hank.
Fuck! What did you do that for? You can't talk about her like that.
Some crazy bitch tries to kill you, you defend her honor.
Your best friend tries to help, you punch him in the face.
You're a real fucking asshole, you know? That sounds about right.
What do you see us becoming, eventually? Look, you're amazing, okay? I just Come on, just outwith it.
- Say it.
- Excuse me? You're excused, Nancy.
But just rip the Band-Aid off.
It's the only decent thing to do.
Thanks.
Thanks for the advice, old-timer.
Hey, I may be old.
But I'm not such a geezer that I can't dick-slap the shit out of you.
My father used to always say that to me.
- Oh, good old Dad.
- Yeah, he's right.
- If you're gonna break up with me, do it.
- You go, girl.
- That's not what I'm doing.
- What you're doing is wasting my time.
If you're not serious about me, us, I need to know.
Need to know! You know if you would have just let me finish You fucking asshole.
You fucked up my proposal.
Fair enough.
Daddy? Fuck me! You smell funny.
Hey, what's up, slugger? Guess what? I'm the Tooth Fairy, yeah? What do you say we settle this like men? All right? No screaming? Yeah? I think you'll find it's all there.
You're lucky I have cool neighbors.
I don't know how cool they are.
They left their kid's bedroom door wide fucking open.
You're lucky you didn't try anything with that kid.
- Why the fuck would I do that? - I don't know.
It's dark.
You're drunk.
Holes is holes, Hank.
You should be tested for something, Charlie.
- Arms.
- Not sure exactly what.
But you're definitely on the spectrum.
Reach for the sky.
It's beddy-bye.
Oh, don't forget the pants.
Cannot sleep in my pants Jesus! When is the last time you washed these bad boys, Hank? Or yourself, for that matter? I think the nurses gave me a sponge bath in the hospital.
But I could have dreamed that.
You need to get your shit together, man.
How do you propose I do that, Charlie? And once I've gathered up all my pretty little turds what do you suggest I do with them? You've got Karen to think about.
- And Becca.
- They're better off without me.
The both of them.
All I ever do is fuck their shit up.
All I want to do is sleep.
Sleep till I can sleep no more.
And then make myself sleepy all over again.
Can I at least get your number? You know, your digits.
Can I get your digits? You like the way I say that? Digits, like the kids? You're not used to hearing no, are you? Yes, I am.
It's just usually I could give a shit less.
Tonight I do, for some reason.
- Hank.
- Yes.
I have a boyfriend.
Of course you do.
How could you not? But I think if we put our heads together we can overcome such obstacles.
I have faith in us.
I gotta bounce.
It was nice to meet you.
It was nice to meet you too.
- Good night.
- Good morning Karen.
- K.
Karen Karen.
- Leave the poor girl alone.
What if she's the one? Oh, go on.
You're just gonna end up hurting her.
And who knows? She might even, you know: Three-point-five baths, Hank.
Three-point-five! Seemed too far to go.
- You're up early.
- Never went to bed.
Of course not.
I can't get drunk enough anymore, Charlie.
Speaking of which, we're out of alcoholic beverages.
Come on.
Get in the car.
- We'll get you some.
- Fuck you.
You're my agent.
You go get me some.
Get in the car! We're taking a field trip.
Delicious! Hey.
That's a weird-looking liquor store.
Welcome aboard Air Force 69, gentlemen.
- Thank you.
- Hank Moody! Oh, I must be really fucking drunk.
Is that Atticus Fetch? Baudelaire, Bukowski, and Oscar Wilde all wrapped up into one talented motherfucking writer.
- Respect.
- Remember that for my tombstone.
You ready to take this journey with me? That depends.
Is this a domestic flight? I'm not sure I have a valid passport.
Do I? - What's wrong with him? - He's just a little bit drunk right now.
Which begs the question: Why am I not a little bit drunk right now? - Do you know what that is? - Black Hawk Down? That's the Sudan.
It's my own private satellite feed.
If I witness a crime against humanity I just pick up the phone and report it.
Or I can write a song about it.
All this means precious little when you've watched a government bomb its own civilians.
You know why you're here, Hank? Oh, I don't even know why I'm alive right now.
Crazy Little Thing Called Love is my wife's favorite movie.
Yeah, well, I'm sorry to hear that.
Apologies, darling, I don't think I'll be able to come right now.
It's nothing to do with you, I'm just really excited about meeting this man.
Oh, thank you, Atticus.
It was an honor and a privilege to hold your penis for as long as I did.
You're welcome, pumpkin.
Personally, I hate the fucking thing.
I think it's a huge piece of mainstream Hollywood bullshit.
My old lady, she loves it She fucking loves it How does she feel about hand jobs? Hand jobs are different I don't think they are.
Hand jobs don't count I think they do.
I beg to differ I can see it from both sides Oh, yeah So I said, "if I'm gonna do this thing get me the guy who wrote the fucking book.
" And here I am.
Do what? God Hates Us All.
I fucking loved it, man.
That was when it all came together for me.
It was like God came down from heaven and laid his massive, veiny ball sack on my face.
And when he took it away it left a stain in the form of an idea.
Make it a rock opera! Like Tommy or Hair or Jesus Christ Superstar.
I mean, if fucking Bono can do Spider-Man, the fucking musical I think I can do this.
Well, do what? Crazy Little Thing Called Love.
Hank, they're turning it into a Broadway musical.
- Oh, that's a terrible idea.
- That's what I said! But you and me together I reckon we could do something cool with it.
You write the script, I write the music and lyrics.
Let's make a fucking masterpiece, man! About About love.
Because love is all you need.
All the world's problems eventually come face-to-face with love and who do you reckon wins? Love! It's fucking over, man! Love conquers all! What do you say? I don't think so.
- Think about it.
- Thought about it.
Are you an admirer of my work, as I am of yours? - Not particularly, no.
- Really? They told me that you're a huge fan.
Oh, they misspoke.
And why are you not a fan? You're smug, you're pompous.
There's no cock in your rock anymore.
You're a fucking dinosaur, man.
- Jesus! Fuck you! - Fuck you.
You asked.
Fuck you! Becca.
A bar is no place for a young lady.
I agree.
But here I am.
Happy day.
Pull up a seat.
I'll get you a sarsaparilla.
Barkeep? Sarsaparilla.
Look, Dad.
I know you're going through a tough time now.
But you've got us all worried.
Why doesn't anybody understand I don't want to talk about this? Okay, let's talk about me, then.
I've got some good news and some great news.
Tyler stepped in front of a bus and his corpse was brutally raped by hipster zombies? - Tyler and I broke up.
- Yes! I mean Really? When was that? Where the fuck was I? In the hospital.
Then you went home and got drunk.
Oh, yeah.
- For a month.
- Okay, yeah, I remember now.
How? How are you with that? I'm fine.
I thought it was love.
Turns out it was lust.
I have a feeling that will happen over and over again until something sticks.
Sweetheart, you are wise and beautiful beyond your years and deserving of a far better father than the barstool prophet that sits beside you.
I know.
Point is, I grieved and I moved on.
Take a lesson.
Thanks, coach.
So, what's your news? Well, I'm about to save you a shitload of money.
I'm dropping out of school.
Oh, no, you're not.
And here comes the great news: I want to be a writer.
Why? Being a writer sucks.
Everything I've been through in my life has led me to this.
For better or worse, I'm my father's daughter.
I want to start living out loud.
Laughing, loving, drinking, fucking.
And I want to start writing about it.
All of it.
No, no.
Who are you right now? I really thought you'd be more supportive.
- You dropped out of college.
- Yeah, like, six times.
And look at me.
I'm a fucking disaster-piece.
I don't care what you say.
I'm doing it.
- Yeah, no, you're not, Becca.
- Why? - I'm your fucking father, that's why.
- You're funny.
Some father.
Jesus Christ, Becca.
Have some fucking respect.
Everything okay over here? Fuck off, barkeep.
Go.
Hank, I'm warning you.
- You all right, sweetie? - Mind your own You want me to call somebody? I warned you, Hank.
Sorry, honey.
- He'll live to waste another day.
- There goes your tip.
Well, I, for one, really loved your book, Ophelia.
Your shit really speaks to me.
You know, all my life, I've defined myself by whatever idiot man-child I was spreading my legs for at the time.
And no more, I tell you, no more.
Good for you, Marcy.
You're exactly right.
You don't need a man to be happy.
- I'm living proof.
- See? That's what this skinny bitch has to get through her thick skull.
That's really sweet of you, honey, but I don't think men are entirely to blame.
Oh, they are, Karen.
My entire thesis is built on this idea: Men are wild animals.
And they must be regarded as such.
I think that's a tad hysterical.
Karen! Karen! I need you to dress this wound.
- What happened to him? - I'd like a drink.
Now would be good.
No time like the present, you know? Oh, for God's sake.
- I'm sorry.
- What is this stuff? The fucking Vagina Dialogues? Oh, shit.
This better not be an intervention.
Yes, Hank, it is.
But it's also an act of love.
But this is not about abstaining.
Exactly.
This is about you finding your way back to being the functional alcoholic we all know and love.
We miss that guy, Hanky.
It's true, Dad.
You used to be such a good drunk.
Now you're just disgusting.
And bloated.
And smelly.
- Well, thanks for that, daughter.
- It has to end.
Think of it as a vacation, Hank.
Hey, hey, get this.
The place is called Happy Endings.
You know, I think I could use a stay there myself.
The Internet porn thing is starting to suck me back in.
Have you seen this Tubegalore? Have you experienced this? It is a vortex, Hank.
A swirling, black cauldron of sexuality.
I sat down at the computer one morning, I typed in "amateur BBW.
" Next thing you know, it's dinnertime.
- What? What? I'm being truthful! - I can't be I can't believe I ever shared a bed with you.
Then I can't believe you're going on your second ex-husband.
Oh, and I really can't believe you're back to renting.
That's mean, Charlie.
Do you want to see me cry? This is me crying.
Good God, woman! This is not about the petty problems of L.
A.
's working rich! This is about Hank and his debilitating self-hatred! Exactly.
And if Hank hadn't been such a dick-in-the-mud he and Karen would still be together which means that Karen and I wouldn't be a couple of pathetic 40-something roommates right now! I thought you loved being my roommate.
I do, baby.
But I like my big, shiny house in the hills just a wee bit better.
But no, Stu had to go and get his cock worshipped by that stupid little no-talent Mary Poppins fucking cum-dumpster! Sorry, Becca, man.
Whatever.
Can we get back to Dad? Maybe I should just forgive and forget, right? I mean, it was just a blowjob.
Blowjobs are like fist bumps.
I can forgive him, move back into that beautiful house in the hills and we could go to therapy.
That's what couples do, work their shit out together? - No.
No.
- What do you think? Thanks for the support, you mean-spirited fucking gazelle! Why are you being such a bitch right now? I don't know! I'm sorry! Worst intervention ever.
Okay, long story short, Hank, okay.
You gotta get your ass to rehab.
If I could do it, you could do it.
And I had the fucking yayo to contend with.
You just got the bottle.
Pussy! Fuck you, cunty Smurf.
And while I'm at it, fuck all y'all narcissistic motherfuckers.
Except you, Becca.
Love you long time.
But dropping out of school, that's bullshit.
What? What are you talking about? I didn't want to do this, Hank, but you give me no choice.
I took a bullet for you, man.
The least you can do is try to heal yourself.
For me, okay? Dad, these people are borderline retarded but they love you.
I love you.
Get your head out of your ass and stop drinking because sooner or later, you're just gonna kill yourself.
Just because I'm older now doesn't mean I don't need a father.
Hey.
You know, you didn't even let me say my piece.
How supremely shitty of me.
What do you got? Lay it on me, woman.
We were in such a great place that night.
And if we stand any chance of getting back there you have to pull your shit together.
And that's it.
That's all I got.
The rest is up to you.
- Can I tell you something? - Yes, always.
Even if it has the potential to make you sad? Even better.
That night, I was so looking forward to having dinner with you.
For the first time in forever, you and me, we just seemed so possible.
Everything I always wanted, just right around the corner.
And then it all just went away.
I was the last person to hurt her.
To break her heart.
And I can't put into words how bad that makes me feel.
And now it hurts to be awake and I don't know if I can get back to that feeling with you.
And what scares me is, I'm not sure that I ever will.
You will get back there.
If you want to.
And in the meantime, maybe I'll just dream for both of us, I guess.
Good night, Karen.
Hey, Bukowski! It's freezing out there.
Come up.
I'll make you some coffee.
Hey, I I feel I should tell you that I'm not gonna sleep with you.
Fuck.
Hank, it's time for group.
- Ten minutes, okay? - Yeah, all right.
Welcome to Happy Endings.