All language subtitles for Californication S06E06 [1080p] [x265] [pseudo]

Previously on Californication:

- How's school?
- Dad, I'm not going. Working on a novel.

- What are you gonna fill a novel with?
- Life, love, sex, death.

What do you know
about those things?

- Move it along, groupie, Take him with you.
- Watch your tongue. This is Faith.

Have a look and grasp the cosmic
importance of this lovely young lady.

- Without her, there'd be no rock 'n' roll.
- Tony talked about you all the time.

He said that you had
an uncanny ability...

to suck killer riffs out of him.

I'm sorry I was such a bitch.

God, I'm so sorry
I fucked your husband.

But you haven't nailed it yet,
because I could be the hammer.

I'm in the middle of an epic shit storm
right now.

I fired my manager last week,
and I'm all out of cocaine.

Might you be in the market
for new representation?

If you can get me some Peruvian flake...

I'll maybe think about
throwing you in the mix.

- Here you go, rock-star asshole.
- It'd be an honor to work with both of you.

See you bright and early tomorrow.
Afternoon.

Becca.

I think it's time, Becca.

For what?

Time you stop this funny business
and went back to school.

No, I'm not doing that.

- What are you doing?
- I'm living the life of an artist.

Okay, I got it,
but what does that mean to you, exactly?

Because there's a lot more
to being an artist than just...

altering your consciousness
on a daily basis.

I know, which is why I'm writing
on a daily basis.

You are?

- How many pages you got?
- I'm closing in on three hundy.

- I'm jealous.
- I'm going to finish it, Dad.

- My first novel.
- I hate you.

Do you want to know
how many boys I've slept with?

No. No, no. That's disgusting.

I'm going through
an extremely slutty phase right now.

Will you do me a favor and take this
and just hit me over the head with it...

as hard as you can?
I won't get mad, I promise.

- Stop.
- Just:

I just want to experience everything
while I still can, you know?

Every taste, every smell.

Stop gagging.
You're not my father right now.

You're my artistic guidance counselor.

- You can't judge me.
- Your mom, she can judge you.

She is judging you,
and she's worried about you.

She's got way too many issues
to handle this shit.

She thinks I'm headed down your path.

- What's so bad about that?
- That's exactly what I said.

That's my girl.

Okay, well, I'm not judging you.

But, Becca, promise me that
you'll just keep it simple.

You know, get your drink on,
keep the pages coming...

smoke a little peaches and herb even,
but stay away from the hard stuff.

And no more of that tasting
and smelling. That's disgusting.

What about blowjobs?

Hank! Hank! We gotta go.

Thank God.
Charlie, I will go anywhere with you.

You know why? Because my daughter
is asking me about blowjobs.

- Where we off to?
- Atticus needs you aboard Air Force 69...

- ...right this very now.
- That sounds exhausting.

He's like a retarded
rock 'n' roll puppy, that guy.

- Will you blow him off for me?
- No, I won't blow him off. I can't do that.

He's my biggest client. I'm sorry, but
he is. How many records have you sold?

Are you wearing eye shadow, Charlie?

- Hello, Becca.
- Charlie.

- I have to take your father away from you.
- Get him out of my sight.

Do you guys mind if I crash here,
do some writing...

maybe have a few people over?

Whatever you need. I got alcohol.
I got pornography. I got Pictionary.

Have fun.

No blowjobs.

Welcome aboard Air Force 69...

- ...where your every wish is our command.
- Really?

Atticus makes us say this shit.

But we will make out
with each other if you want.

Okay-

Krull, the English Danish.
What's shaking, Magic Mountain?

- Here, show me some love.
- No love, no love.

Kruller, this is Charlie Runkle.

I've got my eye on you,
the both of you.

- All right?
- Good talking.

Hank.

Thank you for coming.

Why am I here?

- I've got nothing.
- What do you mean?

You know how much money they're paying
me to write the music for this thing?

- No, I don't.
- More money than you'll ever see.

Hey, I've made a fair amount of cabbage
in my day.

How cute.

Your proletariat hopes and dreams.

You know how many songs I've written
for this venture of ours?

- No, but why don't you tell me.
- Zero.

Zero point zero fucking zero.

- That doesn't sound good.
- It isn't fucking good.

- It's bloody terrible.
- It's also not true.

You played a song for me
at your party.

I wrote that when I was 12 years old.
I was trying to recycle it.

Probably why it sounded so shitty.

Fuck you. Wasn't too shitty for the judges
of my year nine talent contest.

What am I doing here?

Hank.

I need you, Hank. I need to get
at the heart of this love story.

I need you to open a vein for me. I've been
rich and famous for so long now...

that I don't think I know what it means
to be a human being anymore.

You're real, Hank. You're a real man.

You're a man who loves a woman
who doesn't love you back.

She loves me back. It's complicated.

I love my wife. She loves me.
We're together. It's not that complicated.

- You fuck other women.
- That's different.

How so?

Do you urinate, Hank?

Do you defecate?

There are elements in the human body
that need to take flight.

Ejaculate's just one of them.

- Right, that's what masturbation is for.
- No. Masturbation?

Masturbation's for the poor,
the downtrodden, the silent unfuckables.

I walk down the street
and women present themselves.

They want to extract my fluids.
It's an honor and a privilege, Hank.

What sort of asshole
would refuse such a kindness?

- What about your lady?
- What about her?

- What about her needs?
- Wives are different.

They don't rub themselves raw like we do.
They're ladies.

All right,
you seem to have it all figured out.

- I'll be on my way.
- No, please.

Please stay.

I am flying to New York to play my music
for the Broadway producers.

But you have no music.

Which is why we need
to hammer the story out.

Once I know the story,
the music will pour out of me...

like a chunky hailstorm of shit
after a night of Dutch curry.

Speaking of which, I have got to
drop the kids off at the pool...

before I soil my leathers.
These pants, $7000.

It's good to be the king.

Make yourself comfortable, Hank.
There's pizza and cocaine and apple juice.

- Hello, sweetheart.
- Hello, Hank.

Mrs. Fetch.

Or perhaps I should say
Mrs. Fetching.

I've been wanting to have a word
with you.

- Regarding?
- An extramarital affair.

Oh I my'

- I know my husband fucks around.
- You do?

- But we have an agreement.
- Are you sure?

Well, we've never actually discussed it,
but I have needs too, you know.

That's what I said.
I mean, that's totally understandable.

Would you like to take care
of those needs?

- Me? Why me?
- Because.

This whole rock 'n' roll,
idiot-man-child shit gets old.

I need a real man from the real world.

Are you man enough
to be that real, Hank?

I don't think so.

In fact, you should speak
to my estranged better half.

She would tell you that I fall
more into the idiot-man-child category.

Karen? She speaks the world of you.

- Really?
- Yeah.

- That's sweet. What does she say?
- Enough about Karen.

- Isn't it weird, because she works for you?
- I'm paying Karen to remodel my home.

If she thinks she can expect
more than a paycheck...

for her services, fuck her.

- All's fair, Hank.
- I see you and your husband have...

the same twisted sense of entitlement.
It's actually kind of cute.

I don't want to twist your arm,
but I'd like to take your hand here...

and shove it up my skirt.

You making a play on the boss's wife?
You've got no fucking shame.

Kruller, it is not what it looks like.

I'm just meat. Man meat.
You know how that goes. You know.

Give me an excuse, pal.

You won't even hear me coming.

I'll slice them fucking cheeks wide open.

They'll be flapping about like the sails
on the HMS Bounty.

See what a fucking charmer
you are then, son.

What are you doing?

What's it look like?
Getting ready for takeoff.

What's wrong with you?
You're sweating like a pig.

- You know what a nervous flier I am.
- No. I've never flown with you.

That's because I never fly, Hank.
It scares the shit out of me.

What's to keep this thing
from just falling into the ocean?

We're going to New York.
There is no ocean.

That's even worse. Certain death!

Okay, just buck up, buddy-boy.
This shit is too weird for me. I'm out.

Hank. Hank. Hank.

Hank.

Hey.

Hey, yourself.

You just can't stay away
from me, can you?

What are you doing here, Hank?

My presence was requested
by the king of Pop-Tarts.

- Same.
- I get it.

He's in the market
for a new muse, is that it?

- Who says I'm interested?
- Well, you're here, aren't you?

Maybe I heard
you were gonna be here.

- Maybe you did. Did you?
- Maybe.

- Maybe I just came with a friend.
- Jesus Christ!

No, I've got it. I've got it. I'm fine.

- Frank!
- Widow.

- Call me Trudy.
- Okay.

Beautiful. You had your dick
in me mouth, remember?

- Of course. Who could forget?
- He's got a nice rig on him, he does.

He could foam the fucking runway
with that thing.

Good to know.

- So you guys are BFFs now?
- Yeah.

We've certainly got
a lot in common, no?

Been riding the same
disco stick and all.

Staying or going?

Staying or going, Hank?

All right,
favorite Radiohead album.

That's easy. None of them.

- That shit is way too cool for me.
- Fuck off.

All right, here's one for you.

Side two, track three,
Houses of the Holy...

by a little band they like to call
Led Zeppelin.

"No Quarter."

You're good. You are good.

You have no idea.

I inherited a dead uncle's
vinyl collection...

and spent years in my childhood
bedroom just listening to records.

Is that all?

I will have you know, Hank, that I was
a very good little Catholic schoolgirl.

Up to a point.

Are you trying turn me on?

Have you given any further thought to,
you know, what...?

- To what?
- You said you could do something with me.

Bring my best work out of me.

You said that you could be
the hammer...

that would help me to nail it.

I'm not sure. Something tells me you're
a little more trouble than you're worth.

No, no, no.

I can wax on and wax off
with the best of them, Mrs. Miyagi.

- Atticus would like a word with you.
- Okay.

Not you, sweetheart.

I told you he wanted to get
in your knickers.

Well, it's not as easy as it looks.

Yeah, don't I know it.

- Groovy bedroom, dude.
- This is not a bedroom.

This is my very own erotic chapel.

That doesn't sound
the slightest bit creepy.

- The answer is yes.
- Sorry?

I would very much like to enter
into a relationship with you...

one based solely on sexual pleasure
and the transference of inspiration.

I'm sorry, Atticus, but the answer is no.

Tony said that you were like a miracle.

When you came into his life...

he was blocked and bloated
and strung out on China White...

and two days later...

he had a double album's worth
of material.

I would very much like
to receive the same benefits...

in exchange for which
you will experience...

first-class travel,
pharmaceutical-grade narcotics...

the occasional trinket...

and a solid 5.9 inches
of rock-star penis.

That's from taint to tip.

And it's the high end of average.
Don't believe what you read.

That does sound
like the deal of a lifetime.

But it's not really that simple.

Why is it not that simple?

Okay. I'll buy you a German automobile,
but that's it.

- Atticus, your wife is outside.
- Yes, but I slipped her an Ambien.

What? That's awful.

- Is it? Why?
- Because you drugged your wife.

She loves drugs.

Look, I'm not actually used
to having to ask for sexual favors.

Typically, they just come to me.

I know. I do.

The thing is,
when I throw in with a guy, I go all in.

That sounds delightful.

I need to know what we're
trying to accomplish here.

A rock opera.

About love.

Great. All right. Play me something.

You're fucking joking, right?
I have to audition for you?

You think we'll make it?

His favorite place to play
was Madison Square Garden.

Atticus promised to get me in there.

I'm gonna spread his ashes
all over the fucking place.

Is that sanitary?

- What are you so scared of, pumpkin?
- It's just...

so unnatural, this flying.

What's the worst that could happen?

We end up fucking crumbs in a jar, huh?

Big fucking deal.

All just dust in the wind, you silly twat.

You remind me of my ex-wife.

You still love her?

Moments like these, when I'm...

staring death in the face, I realize I
have a lot of unresolved feelings for her.

Yeah, she is the mother
of my child.

Oh, no, I'm sorry.

Well, I feel that my life has deteriorated
ever since we broke up.

But I've had some
solid sexual experiences.

Right.

I've made some serious deposits
in the wank bank.

- That's brilliant.
- I'm still in love with her.

Come here.

Come here, little boy.

It's all right. It's all right.
I've been there.

- That's nice.
- Yeah, it's nice.

There he is.

There's your little winky.

Come on, now, wee willy.

Stand up and shout for Trudy.

Let Trudy tug all your troubles away.

There you go.

You're a speedy one, ain't you?

Good for you.

You got yours.

Rest up, pumpkin.

I might ask you to put it
in me bum later.

It's too small for the front,
but just right for the back.

Tony was way too big
for that sort of buggering.

Come on.

Why?

That's what's missing in my life,
you know?

Romance and longing.

- What about Mr. Fetch?
- You can't long for a cartoon character.

I mean, don't get me wrong.

He was a really sweet boy,
all heart and balls and swagger.

But that boy turned into a rock star...

and that rock star got
everything he ever wanted and more.

Eventually,
he just lost touch with reality.

I just... I want to long for someone.

The way you long for Karen.

Jeez. Okay.

Here we go. Come on.
There you go. Come on, just...

Trying to skull-fuck
the missus now, are you?

Kruller, this is so not what it looks like.

- You're gonna enjoy this, aren't you?
- You have no idea.

Land this fucking plane
right fucking now!

Why? We're gonna crash,
aren't we?

I want this pathetic
little slut off my plane.

This is my private airplane,
and I make the rules!

Why are we not landing?

Why are the landing gears
not coming down?

- What did she do?
- She was inappropriate with me...

with my wife on board, no less.

Is she alive?

She's fine. Go back to sleep.

It's bullshit. He's pissed off
because I wasn't interested in fucking him.

I knew it.
I knew you were a fucking cow.

- Hey, I thought we were friends.
- No, no more!

- Home-wrecker! Home-wrecking cow!
- No, I don't buy that for a second.

I don't give a fuck if you buy it.
She's gone, and I'm gonna tell...

the entire rock 'n' roll community
that you have vagitosis and warts.

That is just fucking mean.

Okay, land this plane. But if she
goes, I go, and you can finish...

your fucking musical by yourself,
you spoiled ginger.

And get your house in order,
because your wife is looking for strange.

That's the second time
you've laid hands on me.

The first time, I deserved it.
I wrecked your piano and cocaine.

But I did not deserve that pathetic
little bitch-slap just now.

You know what that calls for?

Titty twister!

Get him off me!

Jesus, Mary, Joseph!

Here we come!

Hank? Hank? Hold me!

Settle down, Runks.

- If this is it, this is a good day to die.
- This is the captain.

We're experiencing turbulence.
Please take your seat.

Jesus!

Tony!

Oh, no!

Well, thank you
for standing up for me.

Oh, sure, no problem.
I mean, who wouldn't?

Just because you're a groupie and you've
slept with thousands of rocker dudes...

doesn't mean you're not
a woman of virtue.

I don't believe for a second
that you have vagitosis.

- Or warts.
- If you say so.

Go ahead, Churchill. Get in there.

- I don't know if I can. I'm too freaked out.
- Come on, prime minister.

If you're gonna die, wouldn't you
rather die with your dick in me bum?

Yeah.

Fuck this. If I'm gonna die,
I'm gonna die doing what I was born to do.

- Wait. Dude, really?
- Could you pick a more obvious song?

Fuck you! It's an homage.

Cameron Crowe was right,
and Elton John was a God.

Fuck. This is it. This is the moment
we've been waiting for.

I'm shitting genius right now.

Saw your...

Reflected in the windows

Of a Boeing 727

Stared out at...

As the sunset turned

It's okay. She knows.

She knows you love her.

Yeah, I suppose she does.

Tums Hell's Kitchen into heaven

Tum my face to me

Come here.

I tucked your hair behind your ear

If this is really it...

then I want to spend the last moments
of my life listening to great music...

and making outwith the cute guy
who just defended my honor.

That sounds like a reasonable request.

So long as we are together

So long as we are

So long

So long

Help!

Fucking Christ!

I just had me an assgasm!

You're a bloody fucking sorcerer,
you are.

Terra firma.

Terra firma, motherfuckers!

Careful, Charlie.

There's bound to be a bunch
of rock star DNA on that floor.

I don't care, Hank.

I don't care if I get the mother
of all cold sores.

And we are taking the train
back to Los Angeles.

- No, we're not.
- Why can't you ever indulge me?

Well, my friends, we did it.

We have a song.

Jesus bloody Christ, woman,
you are a...

A proper fucking muse.

Thank you.

And I'm deeply sorry
about my childish behavior.

I tend to get that way
when my manhood is assailed.

Fuck you.

What the fuck?

Hello, sweetheart.
Did you have a nice sleep?

Did I take an Ambien?

- Yeah. Don't you remember?
- No.

Yeah.

Did you drug me again,
you fucking wanker?

Of course not.
Guess what, though.

While you were sleeping, I wrote you a song.
I'll play it to you back at the hotel.

- Okay.
- Come on, darling. It'll be all right.

Shit. Okay.

I don't want to alarm you...

but you seem to have misplaced
your clothes.

I won't be needing them for a while.

Is it naked nap time?

I think I'm gonna hang back here
for a bit.

Really? Because that's
New York city out there...

and I know like seven pizzerias,
all of them fantastic...

and we could hit every one, just one
bite here and one bite there and just...

Sounds yummy. Maybe after.

After. After?

- I've been doing some thinking.
- Some naked thinking.

Congratulations.
You have made it to the next round.