Californication - Fourth Season

Ow.

Jesus H. Christ.

Hi, daddy.

This is Bill's daughter, Mia,

and this is Hank.

You... you two know each other?

- No. - I am 16, you know.

- What's this? - Hank's new book.

Are you really 16?

- I'm really 16. - This is really good.

It's not a memoir.

It's a written account of my sexual relationship with you.

Written by me as a fucking novel.

I know you've set him up, stole his book.

And what are you gonna do about it, huh?

I got to ask, since you always tend to write

exactly what you know,

what's the fucking deal?

You have done some fucked-up shit in your time,

but I didn't think you'd do that.

We have to love him for who he is,

not his potential.

Go. Drive the car.

Karen.

You're saying that the three of us move back

to New York together?

Well, soon, yeah.

Okay?

Look what the cat dragged in.

What brings you to these fair parts?

I'm doing a little signing/reading in Venice.

I want you guys to come.

Paul Rider, Mia's manager.

- Oh. Hey. - Wow.

Quite the literary scandal we have here.

Why would you tell him?

Because I'm in love with him.

Think about Karen and think about Becca.

Hank, it doesn't have to be this way.

- Stop! - You're fucked, Moody.

I need to tell you something.

Okay.

[Alice in Chains' Check My Brain]

Home, Skeeves.

Hey, are you hungry?

You must be starved.

You know what? Come on. Come on. We'll go get something to eat.

Grand slam breakfast, my treat.

I got to get home.

I got to face the music at some point.

What?

- What? - What's that look?

What look?

That shifty, somewhat cunty look of yours.

I can't take you home, palomino.

Why is that, Charlie?

I've been instructed not to.

By Karen?

And Marcy.

She told me she would kick my pale, pockmarked ass

if I brought you home right now.

And I believe that crazy, little bitch too.

Get this.

We're splitting the sheets. Yeah.

She signed the papers.

It totally broke my heart.

Really thought we were gonna work it out.

- Guess not. - Charlie!

- What am I gonna do now? - Charlie!

Yeah?

I just got out of jail.

You're right. I'm sorry.

You win. You got it way worse right now.

Get in the car.

There's something you should see.

I don't get it, Runks. How'd it get out so fast?

It's called the interweb, Hank.

It's been around for a while now.

Remember how fast my masturbation video spread?

That was unnerving.

That was funny, 'cause it was you.

- Yeah. - Not me.

- Yeah, some story, huh? -

Yeah. Tell you the truth, I never thought

he was much of a writer.

But now the guy's my fucking hero.

I mean, he hit that shit, right?

What I wouldn't give for a taste of that sweet peach.

Ah.

- All right, peace. - Yeah, okay.

There you go...

Another satisfied customer.

I'm gonna ask you a question, Runkle,

and how you answer will determine

whether or not I put this cigarette out in your asshole.

Will you take me the fuck home?

Home it is, my good man.

You're a useless fuck, you know that?

The man threatened physical violence, Marcy.

So did I, you stupid mutt.

You can't hurt me anymore, you know.

You already tore my fucking heart out.

Go away, Hank. I'm not gonna let you in.

I get it, Marce. You're a good friend.

You're the gatekeeper, but this is my home.

- It's my family. - Is it true?

The man was framed.

Yes, it's true, but it's also hugely complicated.

I believe you.

I do, but still, it's pretty fucking grody.

Mm. You'll get no argument from me.

Now, what's the move here? Are you gonna step aside,

or am I gonna have to pick you up and move you aside

like the gorgeous little garden gnome that you are?

Get the fuck out of here, Hank,

before Becca comes home.

I would like to see her. How is she?

Oh, she's great. She's fantastic.

I can't keep her off the computer, though,

'cause she doesn't believe a word of it.

She thinks you were set up.

Do you want to take that away from her?

Do you want to have to look her in the eye

and tell her that you put your dick

in a girl that's the same age that she is right now?

'Cause if you do, stick around.

- Fuck you. - Well...

Well, call me Mr. Brightside,

but I think we're making some serious progress here.

What? She wanted you to have a change of clothes.

That was very thoughtful of her.

So the arraignment's tomorrow morning.

In the meantime, I'll do what I can

to plea down the assault and battery.

You have any questions?

Yes. Do you mind if I smoke?

- Sure do. - Hmm?

Mm-hmm.

Hank.

Hank. Hank.

Is there something I should know here?

- Such as? - Is he retarded?

- Hey. - He's actually quite a good guy

once you get to know him.

He's... he's very pleasant, very agreeable.

Good to know,

because on paper he looks like a total piece of shit.

- Hey, now. - Abby here is the best there is

at defending the unjustly accused.

Hey, hey, remember that poor guy who kept showing his penis

to the Laker girls?

- She totally got him off. - Impressive.

So what was it you wanted to do, Abby, you know, before?

Okay, I'll play.

Before what?

Before you sold out and went to law school.

- Up top. - Cute.

Can't help it. The guy's cute.

He's also a three-time loser.

Well, now you're just name-calling.

It says here you were arrested for assaulting a, uh, filmmaker

named Todd Carr.

Uh, shitty filmmaker named Todd Carr.

Does it say "shitty" there? 'Cause it should.

The charges were dropped at Mr. Carr's request.

Shortly thereafter, an altercation

with an L.A.P.D. officer.

Mm. Got off light... probation.

How'd you manage that one?

Really?

- He'd just had a vasectomy. - Point being?

Cop nightsticked him in the balls...

- Big misunderstanding. - Oh, yeah.

Tell that to my balls.

I still got a touch of the epididymitis.

Whenever it flares up, I got to soak my pouch

in four inches of tepid bathwater.

- Talk about a party. - You know what?

This is a big fucking waste of my time.

Good luck to you, Mr. Moody.

Apologize, you idiot.

Okay, look, I'm sorry

that I talked about my balls,

my big, beautiful balls.

It was inappropriate.

No, I get it. I get it.

I get how serious this all is, you know,

and I don't want to waste your time.

- Really? - Yes.

It's just that I trust you to do whatever voodoo it is

that you do do for me.

So I'm gonna... I put myself in your hands.

I'm putty for you.

I'll tumble for you. I'll do whatever it takes.

Start with a shower.

You smell like you just walked out of a fisting contest.

I'll see you tomorrow morning.

Don't be late.