Flipped (2020) s01e08 Episode Script

Creative Differences

1
No, no! I don't want you
to plant the birds-of-paradise.
I want you to rip them all out.
¿Estas?
Yeah, all the birds-of-paradise.
I want them gone.
And in the empty hole,
I'd like you to plant
this Japanese horsetail reed.
I'm sorry, my husband usually helps me
with the landscaping,
but he apparently thinks
he's Puff Daddy now,
producing J.Lo's hit new record,
-and so I'm left
-¿Qué?
I'm sorry, you don't comprende.
Listen.
These in, those out!
Make sense?
Yeah?
Thank you.
Okay.
Oh, there you are.
You know, Fidelia is a bitch on wheels,
but the pâté is fantastic.
-Is it?
-Yes.
Okay, so you have time
for goose liver, but you don't have time
to help me in the garden?
What's that supposed to mean?
You do realize that the renovation was
supposed to be finished before this party?
What do you want me to do--
tell "El Nightmare"
that I can't engineer his new cut
because my wife needs me
to supervise the flowerbed redo?
Huh?
Sorry.
Listen, Rumualdo is happy, all right?
He's thrilled with the renovation.
He's pouring more money into the budget.
He even took off our tracking bracelets
for the party.
Now, aren't these wins, Cricket?
Yes.
Yes, you're right. I'm sorry.
We have always been "client first."
So, if Rumualdo's happy, then
then we should be happy-- I'm sorry!
I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed.
You know who's not happy?
Sofia.
Fidelia hired a French jazz fusion trio
to play at her quinceañera.
Mm Sofia doesn't care.
She's too busy trying to get
finger-blasted by cousin Raul.
Ah there they are!
My celebrity designers, hola.
Diego, hi.
Have you had the pâté yet?
Oh, no, please-- who serves French food
at a Mexican birthday party, okay?
Like, snails and goose liver?
It is off-brand and disgusting to me.
Disagree-- I actually have
such a soft spot for escargot,
it's almost a hard spot.
Well, the two of you have
made some very big fans.
And I promised the Ortegas
I'd introduce you,
so you're in for a treat.
El es Jann, ella es Cricket.
Oh, what you did with Diego's house--
exquisite.
He hasn't stopped talking
about the gold sink
and the, the tiger paw faucet.
-Yeah.
-He's obsessed!
Yes, well, Diego was a tough sell
on that faucet.
But he came around.
I have learned to shut my mouth,
with these two, you know?
It's called a trust exercise.
It's very cool.
I want you to do our master bathroom
exactly like Diego's.
When you're done with Rumualdo's,
of course.
-No. Yeah
-Actually, this is our last
Hey, hey, hey, of course!
I told you they'd love
to work on it with you.
Now, if you'll excuse me
with these two rascals for a little bit.
-Hey, try the, try the pâté!
-Of course.
It's so delicious.
Come with me.
Come, come.
-W-T-fuck, Diego?!
-What?
You said as soon as we were done
remodeling the beach house
we were all paid up.
My goodness! Yes, you are, of course.
But, uh-oh, oh-oh.
Ching, ching, ching, ching.
The Ortegas just put down
a $10,000 deposit
to retain your services.
I keep a ten percent,
of course, and now
we're in business together--
congratulations!
But, no, we had an agreement!
Yeah, we had one agreement.
I agreed that I was not going to kill you.
And that agreement is open-ended.
Subject to change-- do you understand me?
Don't give me Bambi eyes. Don't do this.
All right, look
you're never going home.
Okay? That's just a fact.
You're part of us now, okay?
You can still make a pretty good life.
Look, you build up your client base,
you do exactly what you love to do,
and you start making
some real fucking money!
Everyone wins.
Especially me, if I'm gonna be honest.
I win a lot.
How do you win?
Diego Santos is now a tastemaker.
Can you believe it?
People are calling me at all hours
to ask me about my celebrity designers.
They want you to design
their sunporches and shit.
It's very cool.
Wait, so you're the tastemaker?
But the best part about it is, though,
as one of Rumualdo's loyal associates,
it is my duty to know about everything.
You know, to keep him safe.
So you two are my eyes and ears.
Y-You want us to be spies?
Shh.
Who said spies? Who said spies?
-Uh
-No, no, no, no.
We are family, okay?
Family protects each other, okay?
So, if you hear Rumualdo
discussing anything--
plans for new expansion,
strategies, or personnel change--
you answer directly to me,
so I can serve him better.
Do you understand
what the fuck I'm saying?
Ooh, cake time!
You best believe I'm gonna have a piece.
I really hope it's not made
out of, like, pig's ass
or some other French shit, you know?
Wish me luck.
Okay.
I knew it.
I knew we were never getting out of here.
This is what we get
for following our stupid dreams.
Hey, you pump the brakes
on that negative talk.
We are the composers of our own epic poem.
We are prisoners, Jann!
This is it!
This is the end of the line!
The worst-case scenario!
Is it? I mean, think about it.
Eh, we're honing our craft
with unlimited budgets.
We've apparently become
the talk of the town.
And we've fallen into
a pretty lavish lifestyle.
Oh, great!
We're rich and famous in Mexico.
That wasn't the plan.
Well, if you want to hear God laugh,
make a plan, am I right?
Stop it! This isn't any time
for your jokes, okay?
They're not funny!
There is a crime being committed here.
Yes, I'm aware of who we're working for.
I don't give a shit about the cartel crap!
The crime is that we are not
on TV, building our brand.
And I think you and I both know
that is where we belong.
I'm not gonna argue with you.
But listen to me.
You and I have been to hell and back.
We got the T-shirt and the keychain.
Yeah, we do.
Yes, we're not on TV.
But we have each other.
And as long as we have that,
our destiny is whatever we say it is.
I love you so hard right now.
Jann, come to the back of the house.
To be continued.
Amigos
y familia, friends and family,
I would like to thank you for coming
to celebrate our beautiful
Sofia's quinceañera.
And in honor of, uh,
Sofia's emergence into womanhood,
I have prepared a loving musical tribute.
Sofia, this is for you.
We're going to get supplies.
Sing pretty songs to each other
while Cricket figures everything out,
fine!
I'll take care of it.
Always do!
Motherfucker!
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