Weeds s07e11 Episode Script

Une Mère Que J'aimerais Baiser

Previously on "Weeds" I can't take this.
Not now.
What happened to the girl begging me for 60 pounds? She has competition muscling in.
I'm exposed on this one.
I owe now, so it's kind of both our problem.
The S.
E.
C.
knows your fund is a Ponzi scheme.
They're gonna come after you.
So we're cooking the books? Klein was the cash guy.
We need the money.
I will get it.
Shane's not involved.
Well, he's asked about Pouncy House.
It's my older son, Silas.
What's his connection with them? He's just sleeping with some girl, Emma.
She's the boss.
Shane just blindly just follows his older brother.
You asking for help? A call comes in, Alex takes a code, the code goes into the brain, where it becomes a sale.
You have the better pot.
But you have the better distribution system.
Fine.
Fine.
Fine.
One bust.
Call off the cavalry.
I've solved our problem.
Hi, it's Nancy.
Leave your message.
Thought you might want to know I solved our problem.
No.
It's already done.
I've agreed to it.
I'm running it past you as a courtesy.
I gave her my word.
And the word is "no.
" What's wrong with your mom? Merging is the only way to go.
With our supply lines and -- and her customer base -- You mean our customer base.
Footnote, they were my customers before you stole them.
Footnote, they're about to be my customers again.
Deal's off.
Your mom clearly has the controlling interest here and she's a bitch.
When I need to be.
You want to try me? Emma! Let her go.
I thought I made this pretty clear.
I'm not your employee anymore.
And when I decide that something's right for us, I expect you to back me up.
Where is all this macho bullshit coming from? You used to be so sweet.
You mean "stupid.
" That is not at all what I meant.
Every time you tell me to do something, you get this condescending look on your face.
Your mouth starts configuring into this little smirk.
You mean "contorting.
" Joke.
Sorry.
This is a ridiculous conversation.
You're a very bright kid.
That's exactly what I'm talking about.
I'm a grown man.
Okay.
No.
I'm your mother! To me, you're a kid -- always will be.
Sorry.
And just so you know, I don't want anything to do with that girl.
Neither do you, trust me.
I got to go.
It's the smart move.
Companies merge, and then they destroy the competition.
Bigger is better.
She won't listen to anybody else.
Total fucking control freak.
She won't say it to my face, but she thinks because Lars is a fucking idiot that I must be, too.
Who's Lars? My dad.
No, he's not really my dad.
My real dad was someone else.
He's my biological dad.
I guess that's my real dad, though, right? Fuck.
Is he really an idiot? His teeth are brighter than he is, you know? Ever been to therapy? I already fucking know.
It's all about my mom.
So come work for me.
No offense, but I'm not gonna trade in one boss for another.
My "loyal soldier" days are over.
So what are you gonna do? I don't know.
I'll figure something out.
Thanks for the offer, though.
Always on the table if you want it.
I'd rather have you on the table.
Shane, where's Silas? I don't know.
Why? He's pissed at me.
He's pissed at everybody.
It's impotent rage.
From me hooking up with Pilar.
Let's not talk about that ever again.
Deal? Anyway, I'm justworried Silas might do something stupid.
Good luck with that.
You ever been to the Hamptons? The Hamptons? Huh.
I've been to the Berkshires, the Poconos, the Catskills -- Loved the Catskills.
When I was a kid, Lenny would stop there on the way to the Saratoga race track to hustle gin games off the Balinsky brothers.
Herbie, Hymie, and Hershey -- menswear magnates.
Or was it Hangers? Either way, it's -- terrible card players.
Lost my virginity at Grossinger's resort to Alana Spiegel.
We were playing "Clue.
" And when she suggested it was Mrs.
Peacock with the lead pipe in the ballroom, well, I took the hint andbecame a man.
I was really just looking for a "yes" or a "no.
" No, never been.
Well, Klein left this awesome vacation house in East Hampton, and whit and I are gonna throw this big, fancy party, try to bring in some heavy hitters into the fund.
I need you to pretend to be an investor who made a fortune off of us.
Like bringing a hot woman to a bar to help pick up other hot women.
Be my hot woman, Andy.
Fleecing New York's upper crust while they're on vacation is a Botwin family tradition.
I'm going with you.
Great.
You can pretend to be my trophy wife.
No trophy-wife pretending.
Drug-selling to people with money.
I need to pay Demetri back.
Come on, Nance.
These are well respected members of high society.
They do coke.
How are you? Oh.
See? Those guys look like hebes.
You're safe.
Guys, we're in Long Island, not 1960s Georgia.
Fisher! Tillerman! Hey.
Rocketman? Holy fucking crap.
How long has it been? Thanks for the invite, Fish.
This is Nancy.
Girlfriend? Wife? Mistress.
Uh, neither.
Friend.
Hi.
Fisher Adams.
Nice to meet you.
You catch up with your lost boys, here.
I'm gonna wander.
Fish, this is Bill Sussman.
He's the one I was telling you bought Klein's house over by Georgica Pond.
Sorry, Bill.
I-I couldn't resist spilling it.
Not a problem.
Yeah, closed on it two days ago.
Why keep the fruits of my success a secret? If you can't make all your friends outrageously jealous, what's the point? Absolutely right.
But I didn't know Klein was even selling it.
I would have made a run at it myself.
He wasn't.
Bill made him an offer he couldn't refuse.
Well, thanks to you guys and your fund, I could afford to grossly overpay for it, still have enough left over for my girlfriend's abortion, a small castle in the south of France, and, uh, prosthetic balls for my dog.
You can do that? They're called "neuticals.
" Look it up.
Hmm.
Where's Klein going? Well, rumor has it, once he seals the China deal, he's gonna make a play for Spielberg's house.
How fucking perfect is that, huh? A shark buying the house that "Jaws" built.
I love it.
Okay, guys, tee time.
Bill, enjoy the facilities.
If you need anything -- and I mean anything -- I'm number 4-5-1 for the chits.
All right? Hmm.
Okay, one long island ice tea.
Sign the chit, please.
Shit.
It's my short-term memory.
Just pick one.
Nobody knows the difference.
Okay.
Thank you.
Mmm! Nance -- chits.
We can sign for whatever we want.
I feel like a steak -- three steaks.
Do you think it would be too obnoxious to buy a dozen sweaters in the pro shop? It probably would.
The pool looks inviting.
Shall we swim? Or tennis? Or tennis and then swim? We need to get to work.
Hmm? What are you gonna do? Walk around going "Psst, drugs over here"? No, we need to schmooze to get people to come to the party tonight, and then we can say "Psst, drugs over here.
" Right, schmooze.
I'm good at that.
You take the main room.
I'll take the patio.
Long island ice teas are delicious.
What's in them? Mm.
Everything.
I mean really delicious.
All right.
Let me try.
They're free.
Get your own.
Thanks, kid.
Where's my change? Oh.
That's it? You think I'm holding out on you? Motherfucking Starbucks.
Listen, we getting our coffee at Mickey D's from now on.
Yeah, you and your McDonald's.
Listen, Betz, they never did your ass any favors.
For your information, I worked there one summer.
Got more pussy than you would believe.
Used to ask the ladies if they wanted me to super-size it.
You can always go back, you know.
So, I organized your arrest warrants alphabetically and by court date so you can access them more easily.
Radar fucking O'Reilly.
Hey, time to hit this shit.
Okay, kid.
Come on.
Throw this on.
Seriously? Where are we going? Just shut up and do as I say, okay? You're about to find out how close you flew to the fucking flame.
A 1969 DRC Romanee Conti Rouge.
Sick vintage.
My guy who imports it, only $3,700 a bottle for me.
What's his name? He's not taking any new customers.
Fuck you.
Now I really got to know his name.
Sorry, pal.
He's a mystery.
The man has a name.
No can do.
No can do.
Sorry to interrupt.
Did you just say $3,700 a bottle? Yes, I did.
How much better is that than one that costs I don't know -- $300 a bottle? $3,400 better.
I see.
Sorry if you were expecting some soliloquy on tannins and bouquets, but the truth is, I drink it 'cause I can afford it.
Fascinating.
Does that turn you on? Yes, it does.
Men wasting large sums of money definitely turns me all the way on.
So much so that I'd like to invite you both to a party tonight.
Oh, hi.
I'm Sophia.
Bill Sussman.
So, my girlfriends and I, we have a wager going.
Trying to guess what you do for a living.
I got my law degree from Dartmouth before I joined Credit Suisse.
The hours killed me, so I invented an iPhone app that I sold to Russia called "Words with Comrades.
" And now I'm writing the score for the Broadway adaptation of, uh, the most beloved television show of all time, "The Facts of Life.
" Hmm.
You're funny.
Hey, look, I'm having a housewarming party tonight at mynew property.
Why don't you bring your friends? Count us in.
I will.
Want to get me a drink? Long island ice tea, make it a double.
Pouncy House Party Rentals.
Right there, shithead.
What the fuck? Now, this is what I call a fucking party.
God damn it.
You promised me this would never happen.
Shut the fuck up, Denny.
Send the kid in.
These cuffs are a little tight.
Oh, I'm sorry they're not made out of silver, your highness.
Hey, maybe when you get out from doing 8 to 12 for distribution, your parents might get you a pair from Tiffany's.
Hey, here's the thing, kid.
Up to this point, it's a lot more fun standing on the other side.
But when the hammer comes down -- and it always comes down -- you got to be standing on my side.
What is this, a fucking Civics class? Yeah, and you wish you'd paid a lot more fucking attention when you were in that fucking class.
I was Phi Beta Kappa, you blue-collar piece of shit.
I want to talk to my lawyer.
You see how "Angelina Jolie" she's being? Trust me, Botwin, she's shitting her Dolce & Gabbanas right now.
Let's get rid of the putrid pot princess.
Come on, partner.
So, listen, you don't have to worry about anything anymore.
Your brother has a chance to walk away from this and start clean, and so do you.
My brother? Right.
Not here.
There's an old vet in there ranting about the war.
People are totally captivated.
It's amazing.
If you took the same guy, telling the same story, put him on the street corner with a shopping cart, he'd be a babbling old fool.
But because he has money, he's a witty raconteur.
Uh-huh.
Those two guys over there paid $3,700 for a bottle of wine from France.
Well, France makes good wine.
I think it's the soil Or the water.
Or the alcohol.
No, they're just showing off to prove they're bigger, richer, better.
AndI'm gonna do that with weed.
Do what? Put it in a fancy box! Sell it for a shit-load of money.
Say it's from France, tell them they can't have it.
Gotcha.
Luxury pot you can't get your hands on, mm-hmm.
In the corporate world, that's called re-branding.
I'm a titan now.
I know all the terms.
Um, grown in the lush hills of Provence, to make it complex and wonderful.
You're good at this.
Nectar of the gods.
Tough game? Hit every bunker and had to listen to fisher brag about his fourth wife who used to be a stripper and can only get off when she takes it up the "tuchus.
" I'm gonna go in to town.
I'm gonna get some fancy boxes, some ribbon.
Une mére que j'aimerias baiser.
What's that? It's French for MILF.
I'm gonna take the limo.
You guys get a taxi.
What's wrong? That's my limo.
Guess what I just did.
In order to do that, I'd have to give a shit.
Oh, I think you'll give a shit.
Get out of here, Shane.
I watched a drug bust.
Pouncy House went down today.
It was pretty awesome.
It was like a "Law & Order" episode except for all the cops didn't look like unemployed actors.
Emma? Nice job tapping that.
She's a lot cuter in person than on her surveillance photo.
You saw her get busted? Yeah, Ouellette let me come along.
Got to hand it to mom.
All her enemies -- vanquished.
What the hell did mom have to do with it? She told Ouellette that my big brother was involved with Pouncy House and I looked up to you.
So, in order to save me, he had to bust them.
Pretty fucking genius.
Have you heard from her? I don't know if she was supposed to come back tonight.
What are you doing? None of your business.
That's our database.
You and mom can go fuck yourselves! This product is from the south, Provence.
The water is filtered through Mediterranean limestone.
Makes a big difference in the terroir.
It's more expensive, obviously.
But remember -- One puff is equal to four, five of a regular strain.
I have premium, something I offer to preferred customers only.
Supply is limited.
I'll take two boxes.
Been around since Louis XIV.
Supposedly, his servants grew an imported Belgian strain near the, um, the gardens, uh, at Versailles.
It's more aromatic than American weed, more, um, artisanal.
Yeah, his first two wives never let him smoke.
They're old.
I love getting high and sucking his cock.
Oh.
We'll take five boxes.
Oh, it's only two per customer.
I'll pay double.
Well, I -- I'm really not supposed to do this, but, um, your story's really touched my heart, so consider it a belated wedding gift.
All I want to know, will it take the edge off? Definitely.
I'll take it.
I'm crazed with getting my twins into preschool.
Well, if you start them early with a good education -- and pile blocks.
If we can even get in.
We sat down with our accountant last week and realized it's gonna cost over $1 million to educate those two little animals.
And that's not counting college plus all the gifts and bribes.
I bought a book on cunnilingus in case I have to go down on this one dyke admissions Nazi.
You have little ones? I have a 4-year-old.
Well, I hope you sell a lot of drugs 'cause you'll need it.
That and a quick tongue, I guess.
You said $500? Yes.
I'll take 20.
How goes the fishing? Turns out Klein already pulled half the people here into the fund.
And the other half got taken by Madoff, so nobody wants to go near a hedge fund unless they know for sure they're on the top rung.
I mean, this party is one colossal dry hump.
We're screwed.
I can save you.
You find someone? Attagirl.
Who? First, a deal.
What kind of deal? I have been selling dime bags all night for $500 a pop just by telling people they're from France, putting a pretty bow on it.
You guys fund me, I could expand, become the grey goose of weed.
We're already breaking the law.
We need money in, not out.
Don't worry about it.
Do you see that guy over there? In the yellow shirt? By the bar? Worth a fortune.
Coal mines.
Drinks $3,700 bottles of wine.
He's looking for a place to park his cash so that his ex-wife can't get her hands on it.
You help me, coal miner's all yours.
All right, stop by the office next week with a business plan.
We'll take a look at it.
Now, come on, introduce us to the guy.
Hang on.
Uh, Andy, come on.
I need you to come vouch for the firm.
Can't.
There's a hot redhead at the bar in a fallopian-length dress that I definitely want a piece of.
Okay, Bukowski, I'm cutting you off.
What?! No! Nobody cuts Bill Sussman off! I don't think I've ever seen you this drunk.
Bill Sussman doesn't get drunk.
Bill Sussman can hold his booze.
Can Bill Sussman come help me now? No, Bill Sussman cannot come help you now.
Know why? Bill Sussman doesn't follow chicks around every time they snap their fingers like a pathetic chick-follower.
Bill Sussman does what he wants whenever he wants it.
Do that again, you're a dead man.
Come on.
Admit it.
You want it.
Bill Sussman turns you on, right? Okay, okay, if you just help me now for five minutes, then I'll go get you up into bed, okay? Bed? Bed?! Bill Sussman doesn't do it in bed.
He does it on a bear-skin rug, bare back, and backwards.
You're gonna bend for me, bitch.
Excuse me.
What's up? I'm sorry.
Will you please, please stop acting like this?! I really need your help right now! I have a lot to learn from someone like bill.
Doing it his way, refusing to take no for an answer, 'cause that's how he got his fortune.
There is no fortune.
Bill Sussman doesn't exist.
Well, he should.
Andy Botwin Sleeps on an air mattress, has to borrow money from a kid to start a business that's about to go belly-up, and is obsessed with a woman who's a self-centered, heartless sociopath.
If you mean me, fuck you.
The truth hurts, doesn't it? Truth is Bill Sussman's a dick.
Hey, chop-chop.
The coal miner's about to leave.
What's wrong with him? Too many long island ice teas.
Fuck.
Hey.
I know that in -- I-I know that in the past, Bill Sussman and I have had our differences.
But I really don't think I can do it without his help right now.
Oh, yeah? Oh.
Well, now you see the power of Bill Sussman, huh? Blech! Fine.
But I'm doing it for Doug! Yeah.
Bill Sussman does things for his buddies.
Okay, which one is he? The guy in the yellow shirt.
Oh! Watch it, buddy.
Shit.
Is he too wasted? Probably, but that's okay.
Jansen is, too.
Ohh.
See? All good.
Pain.
I'm telling you.
A raw egg mixed with a little clamato and some crushed-up Oreos works like a charm.
Okay.
If you say the word "clamato" one more time, I'm gonna heave again.
Hey, you looked sharp in Klein's clothes.
You swipe any? No.
Weighed me down.
I'm much happier being Andy Botwin.
Carefree soul, tasting all the low-hanging fruit life has to offer, a lot less complicated, a lot more fun.
Let the masters of the universe deal with all the climbers and their agendas, you know? With me, what you see is what you get.
Again, I was really just looking for a "yes" or a "no.
" Silas.
It was a great trip.
Much to discuss.
Uh, before you come at me with both barrels, let me just say, I have been thinking about it, and you were right.
I was wrong.
I shouldn't have big-footed you like that with Emma.
I had my reasons, but you deserve more respect than that.
It won't happen again, and I'll let you make more decisions In the future, okay? Truce? You had Emma arrested.
Emma had Emma arrested.
With your help.
Possibly.
That's bullshit.
It's business.
And you weren't even gonna tell me.
You would have just told her.
Well, you're right about that.
Whose side are you on? From now on, my own.
He downloaded our database.
Fucking rat.
I prefer the term "informant.
" Well, that wasn't yours to take.
Well, go ahead.
Come on.
Try me.
I'm not gonna fight you for it, Silas.
Probably a good idea.
Consider me the competition.
Fair warning -- Everything is up for grabs.
And best of luck to you, Nancy.
Fuck him.
Let him go.
We don't need him.