All language subtitles for Californication S03E12 [1080p] [x265] [pseudo]

Previously on Californication...

- My name is Hank.
- I know. Mia.

This is Mia, Bill's daughter,
and this is Hank.

- You two know each other?
- No.

- She's 16.
- 16, wow.

It's not a memoir.

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

Written by me as a fucking novel.

Even I'm confused,
and I stole the damn thing.

Didn't you get the memo?

I'm taking Fucking & Punching
all over this fair country of ours.

Coming soon to a super-sized
bookstore near you.

They came. The divorce papers.

I have said all along, I still love you.

Fuck your pussy.

Oh, my back!

You OK?

- OK.
- What the fuck is this?

Fucking retarded.

Retarded and sweet.
Just like you, Runkle.

I can't believe
you slept with all of them.

Yes, I suppose I did.

So, what, you're saying we just
pack up and leave LA?

The three of us
move back to New York together?

Yeah, end of the semester, whatever.

What is it about New York, Hank?

What do you think
you're gonna find there?

Happiness.

I'll be happy...

finally.

- Are you sure?
- Yes, of course I'm sure.

It's what I want.

I love you.

Wherever you go,
there you are.

Well, that is true, honey, but...

Why do you drink so much?

Are you punishing yourself?

Do you feel guilty about something?

I miss fucking you.

I miss it too,
but I just can't do that any more.

I don't care any more, Hank.

Our best days are behind us now.
You're just chasing the dragon.

We're never gonna live
happily ever after.

You're gonna die poor,
drunk, and alone.

I was available, Hank.
Why didn't you love me back?

Well, because I love her.

You're my role model, you know,

for men, for relationships.

What hope could I possibly have?

- Are you OK?
- I'm fine. I'm fine.

What up, ladies?

- Your daughter has a question for you.
- All right.

Ask away, shortness.

What's that place, again,
with the really good bagels?

How soon they forget.

- Murray's, the answer is Murray's.
- Murray's. That's right.

What about that other place,
on the West Side,

we go for breakfast sometimes?

- Barney something.
- Yeah, Barney Greengrass,

where you may very well
have been conceived, young lady.

- Really?
- Yeah.

Actually, no,
it was the bathroom at CBGB's.

Jesus Christ, boundaries, people.

Yeah, well, we went to the bathroom
at Greengrass the next day, if you recall.

And who's to say which
batch of seed took root, woman?

- This is true.
- And there goes my appetite.

We should maybe go pay a visit there,
to that shrine

to your vagina.

One of these days I'm going to start
talking openly about sex,

and you're not gonna like it.

Can you pass the orange juice?

Of course.

Stop!

Come on!

This is fun. I'm gonna miss this.
I'm gonna miss you, man.

I'm gonna miss you too, vanilla sweetness.

No, I mean, I'm really
gonna miss you.

You are my best friend, Hank.

Why don't you just come
to New York with us?

- Really?
- Yeah.

You can be our houseboy, homeboy.

That would be fun, actually, yeah.
I could make you guys breakfast.

I could help Becca get dressed
and ready for school.

She's not a toddler, you fucktard.

I don't know.
I don't have any kids.

- Yet.
- What do you mean, yet?

- You've had, like, five vasectomies.
- Two, buddy boy, two.

And, you know, I think maybe
it might be time for a reversal.

I think I might like
to make a baby with Marcy.

Interesting.
Has Marcy shown any inclination

that she might want
to make a baby with you?

I have reason to believe she might be
open to such a thing. Yes, I do.

Would that be before or after
the divorce papers come through?

No, you don't know. We've been
getting along like gangbusters lately.

Really, I would say,
if I was a betting man,

that these two crazy kids
are gonna work it out.

Yes, we are back.
Up high. Give me five.

Way up, in the air.

- Up hi...
- Too high for me.

Yeah, OK.

Honey, I'm home.

Hey, look what the cat dragged in.

Hi, Hank.

It's my favourite female novelist.

Doesn't she look beautiful?

Yes, she does. Look at you,
all footloose and fancy-free and grown up.

Yeah, I'm glad I caught you guys
before you took off for New York.

So, what brings you to these fair parts?

The paperback is coming out,

and we're doing a little
signing-reading in Venice.

- I want you guys to come.
- God, would that we could,

but we have too much with the packing.
It's overwhelming,

and we got to set our affairs
in order, so to speak.

No, I... That's all taken care of.

I said yes already,

- that we'd go.
- Of course you did.

Well, and also, Mia wants to...

introduce us to someone.

A parole officer, perhaps?

A boyfriend, and it's serious, right?

Yeah, well, he is pretty great.

Is it love?

Well, what does she know of love?

She's far too young
to speak on such matters.

Too young?
Hank, didn't you get the memo?

I'm totally legal now.

Good to know.
Man, this is gonna be just...

- way too much fun.
- Right?

Are you sure you don't want me
to stay home and watch Becca?

I don't deserve to have this much fun.

You know what? That's probably
Becca right now. We're coming.

Hello?

Hey, sweetie, guess...

Well, much as I'd love
to stay and watch you squirm,

I got to get moving.

But I'll see you tonight, right?
I'm looking forward to it.

So am I, so much so. OK.

And just so you know, after all this time,
you still make me a little wet.

Toodle-oo!

I'm shuttering the agency.

What? Why?

Yeah, it's time this old broad
hung up her dancing shoes,

time I kicked back,

relaxed, spent a little
quality time with my Dickie.

So many positions
left to explore.

And I have to work on this.

What am be dat?

My memoir.

I would love to read it sometime.

I want you to read it.

And then I want you to sell it.

That's right, Runkle.
I want you to be my agent.

What are you talking about, Sue?
You fired me.

Look, Runkle,
whether you know it or not,

you're a maverick, a renegade.

You beat off to the march
of your own drummer.

That's the kind of agent I want.

That's the kind of agent
I've always tried to be.

And in the meantime,

you can take me.

OK, I see where this is going.

You're dangling your memoirs,

which I know I can sell
the shit out of, by the way,

as an excuse to continue
our torrid little affair.

I don't see why the two
cannot peacefully coexist.

Because I love my wife, Sue.

We're on a serious upswing now.

And I am sick and tired of your
constant sexual harassment.

You say harassment. I say a couple
of big, juicy orgasms between friends.

All right, we'll have it your way,

completely professional.

- Thank you, Sue.
- Utterly boring.

Collini...

wet.

Love the writing,

so visceral and real.

Who are some of your influences?

God, there are so many.

But if I had to narrow it down,

I guess I'd have to say Bukowski...

- Nabokov...
- Stop it.

But I guess the writer
who really shaped me,

the one who was my last true influence

before I started doing this professionally,

that would have to be...
Hank Moody.

All right. Thank you.

I thank you.

You're so moody.

You must be Hank and Karen.

- Yes.
- Paul Ryder, Mia's manager.

- Hey.
- Mia's got a manager now.

What is this world coming to?

You'd be surprised.
Careers need guidance, nurturing.

- Sure.
- You hear that? Nurturing.

I suppose, if you're into that sort of thing.

I just wanted to tell you,
I'm a really big fan.

Anyway, Mia wanted me to invite you guys
back to the house for a drink.

- No.
- Yes.

You will. You will see us later.

- OK.
- OK.

All right.

- What the fuck is wrong with you, woman?
- He's a big fan of yours, OK?

It'll all be about you.

Do you want to bone?

Do I want to bone?

Does the Pope shit in the Vatican?

- In the woods.
- What?

Does the Pope shit in the woods?
That's the joke.

I know. I modified it.
That's what funny people do.

Whatever, dude.

You know, I have been thinking
about getting a reversal...

of my vasectomy.

- Why?
- Why?

In case I want to have kids one day.

Do you think that's a good idea?

I think...

- Shut up and fuck me.
- I can do that.

- Party people everywhere, raise the roof.
- Hi, guys!

- I'm so glad you could make it.
- You were great.

Thanks.

Thanks. Thanks.

- Did you guys meet Paul?
- Yes.

So where's the fella?

This is my fellow.

Your boyfriend is your manager?

So is there going to be a movie?

It sure looks like it.
We're talking to Evan Rachel Wood.

Oh, my God, that's awesome.

- She would be great.
- Rachel who?

- Yeah.
- The script's out to directors right now.

Did you write the script, sweetie?

Oh, no. Screenwriting's not really my thing,
too many rules.

I'll stick to fiction.

Yeah, that's a good call.
You stick to fiction.

Yeah, well, you know, I think Evan
might be around here somewhere.

Do you want to meet her?
I'll introduce you guys.

- Oh, yeah, me too.
- Who?

Honey, OK, but I would like a kiss.

Kiss me.

- No, with lips.
- A strokey.

Not enough.

So...

- Working on anything?
- Oh, God, no.

Just mostly my tan.
I'm trying to get that all-over deal.

It's hard to get the taint
nice and golden, though.

I imagine so.

It's been a while, though,
since you had something out there.

Don't worry about me, buddy boy.
Worry about Mia.

I do worry about her.

She's having some trouble
with her second book.

- I'm not surprised.
- Why?

It's just that writing's hard, you know.

Writing's fucking hard,
wunderkind or not.

- Fuck, yeah, it's hard.
- Yeah.

That's funny,
because I thought you were meaning

it's because she didn't write
Fucking & Punching in the first place.

I don't know what you're talking about,
friend. That's between you and your client.

Her publisher asked her to write
some extra pages for the paperback.

She told me she couldn't,
too stressed.

So I took care of it,
managed expectations,

told them the road was taking its toll.

They bought it. No big deal.

I had a feeling...

so I kept pressing her
to show me some more pages.

She finally did,
and they were rambling,

incoherent, pretentious.

Not the same voice
behind Fucking & Punching,

not even close, night and day.

So I start asking questions.

Didn't take long.

She broke down,
told me everything.

Everything?

Quite the literary scandal
we have here...

which is not a bad thing necessarily.

What the fuck
is that supposed to mean?

Think about it, Hank.

What if she came clean?

Told the story behind the story.

Her fame suddenly becomes
something else entirely,

something I can work with.

Who knows? Maybe she goes on Oprah,
a fucking reality show...

I don't know. I'm just spitballing here.
But it's better than fading away.

And best of all,
you get your book back,

maybe some infamy of your own.

The publishing world knows you
as this brilliant train wreck.

Let everyone else in on it.

I can get you a tell-all deal like that.

You think this shit is funny?

No, I think it's a fucking disaster.

My biggest client is a fraud. I'm trying
to make the best of a bad situation.

Fuck you.
You're trying to capitalise on a bad situation.

I know you're all pissed off at the world
right now, and you want to take it out on me.

But just remember, I'm not the one
that fucked an underage girl.

At least I waited till she was 18.

- Hey.
- Are you boys getting along?

Famously.

- Hey, sweetie.
- Isn't he a genius, Hank?

Oh, please,
I'm a mere businessman.

You artists are the real geniuses.

To Mia.

And to her greatest influence.

Yes, you certainly could be
in a lot of trouble.

- But I didn't know.
- Doesn't matter.

It's your word against hers,

and, sorry, but no one believes a word
out of your mouth.

I thought I was charming.

Not that charming.

- Hank!
- Hey. Whoa!

Karen!

- Hey!
- Come on. Stop.

Oh, Hank!

- Don't go.
- Don't leave. Stay with us.

- Becca!
- Stay!

Karen!

I think she's talking about Rexy.

Isn't that where she's like,
"He's just so stupid"?

Are you OK?

Yeah, no, I'm good. I just...

I didn't sleep very well last night.

OK, well...

Why don't you take this sourpuss
out for a walk or something, all right?

I've got so much packing to do.

I'm so excited!

You know what I'm going to miss?

These walks.

When I think back on LA,
that's what I'll remember.

I'm sorry, sweetie.
Did you say something?

Never mind.

There's something I have to tell you.

Dad?

All right, go for it.

I haven't told Mom yet.

For some reason,
I feel like I need to tell you first.

OK.

The other night,
when I slept over at Chelsea's...

Yeah.

- We snuck out.
- Becca...

It's not as bad as it sounds, Dad.

And wouldn't you rather
I be honest about this stuff?

Yes, of course. OK.

Go ahead.

So, we were just wandering
around campus,

and we met these boys.

- OK, now I'm vaguely nauseous.
- Just bear with me, OK?

Well, Chelsea immediately hooked up

with the dickish good-looking one
and spent the night in his dorm room.

I ended up sexiled with the nerd,
the Michael Cera type.

- Michael who?
- It doesn't matter.

The point is, we ended up
walking and talking all night long.

He was really sweet,
a total gentleman.

All right, well, I like the sound of that.

He did kiss me, though.

Here comes another wave.

It was nice to have a boy
want to kiss you.

He tried to go further,
but I stopped him.

- That's my girl.
- He was totally sweet about it.

- OK.
- Very understanding.

- Sounds good.
- Heard me out, didn't push it.

That's great. All right.

- But we did it anyway.
- Right.

Wait, what?

What... You did... You did what?

Don't be mad at me, OK?
I don't know if I could take that right now.

We used protection.
He had a condom in his wallet

that he said had been there
since high school.

It wasn't love,
and it wasn't perfect or anything.

But I'm glad I did it.
I got it over with.

- But...
- And I wanted to tell you first

because I wanted you to know
that you didn't fuck me up.

My life is tough and weird
and unpleasant sometimes,

but I walk around knowing

that I have parents who love me,
who care about me,

who always try their best,
even if they screw up sometimes.

I know I gave you a hard time
when Mom was gone,

but I hope you know that I love you, Dad.

And I always will.

All right.

Can you...

Can you wait till New York
to tell your mom about this?

- OK.
- OK.

I'm a woman now, Dad.

You don't want to do this.

- Do what, Hank?
- Come on, don't fuck with me.

You must have some idea what he's
thinking. Why would you tell him?

Because I'm in love with him.

People in love
tell each other everything.

Well, maybe not in your case.

Mia, you can do better
than this guy.

You can.

Oh, yeah? Who's better? You?

This past year has been
a roller-coaster ride,

and he's been the only one
taking care of me.

Come on, I know you.
You're a mischievous little fuck,

but you're not malicious.
Forget about me.

Think about Karen,
and think about Becca.

This is gonna hurt them.
Is that what you want?

Look, it's my story to tell,

and my story includes the fact
that I seduced you.

You didn't know how old I was.

It's not like I'm going to
press charges or anything.

You really think that matters at this point?
Karen loves you.

She treated you
like you were her own daughter.

And Becca looks up to you
like a big sister.

It seemed like a good idea
at the time.

It doesn't feel so great, though, you know,
to be famous for no reason.

Sometimes I can go along with it just fine,

and I remember...

Right.

That's the thing about secrets, Hank.

They have a funny way of coming out.

You OK, baby?

I'm fine, fine.

Can you just fuck off?
Give us five minutes?

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

We could all just
put our heads together,

figure out the best way
to approach this whole thing.

I know you don't want to upset your family.
I'm sensitive to that.

Really? Yeah, OK.
You're sensitive to that.

You don't know anything about my family.

No, not much. I'll admit to that.

But from what I do know,

you're not exactly the model patriarch.

Stop! Hank!

Hank, stop!

Hank, stop! Stop!

Hank!

You're fucked, Moody.

I'm calling the police.

Hey, you!

I'm almost done!

Proud of me?

Are you excited?

Oh, my God. What happened?
What the fuck happened to you?

- I'm fine.
- Are you OK?

- I got into a fight.
- What?

- What do you mean?
- It's OK. I have...

- Hank!
- No, it's... I just...

What?

- I need to tell you something.
- OK. What is it?

Hank?

What? What could possibly be this bad?

You look...