All language subtitles for Palm.Royale.S02E05.1080p.x265-ELiTE_Track03

- There you go.
- Thank you.

"Commune with the dead."

Come in… bootlegger.

If anyone can hear me, I'm sending
this message daily at 11:00 a.m.

- Linda?
- Attention Maxine Dellacorte.

Linda is in the spirit world?

Oh, Maxine, what an extraordinary
adventure I've been on.

I'll bet. Tell me
about the spirit world, Linda.

It's so funny how life and karma

have a way of setting us
on the most unexpected paths.

After Doug dropped me
on the beach in Cuba,

I spent days wandering banana plantations

vacated by the oppressor
after la Revolución.

But then, I fell in with
a fabulous community of locals

who took me in with open arms.

And that's when I saw him.

Choi Guevara.

That's right. Half brother to Che.

See you, kids.

Choi.

Linda. Would you like to have sex?

It would be an honor.

Is it fate? Karma?
Mad timing? Who can say?

- But…
- Maxine, I'm in love.

He's taking me to the most amazing places.

First stop, the Amazon.

Where we joined a group of native women,

fending off the destruction
of their beloved rainforest.

My life has such purpose, Maxine!

We must not rest.

The Rollins fortune can at last be used to
reverse suffering instead of creating it.

A courier will come to you, Maxine.

On Thursday the 17th you will use
the code words, "banana slug."

Give him $100,000 cash.

Off to spread literacy
to the Sierras Chicas. Bye!

And Linda's alive?

This thing is just a radio.

Shit.

- Hell of a first date, huh?
- Yeah.

I've got popcorn in my teeth.

Now there's some in my food trap.

Sorry, it's the darndest thing.
Positively unseemly.

I got all the butter and salt rolling
around in my mouth and on my tongue and…

- You understand?
- Yeah.

I can do a little butter and salt--

No, no. I can't kiss you
on the first date.

Three's the magic number, but I want you
to know that I do like you.

I like you too.

Marjorie Merriweather Post is hosting
a square dance at her place tonight.

You wanna go? Two dates in one day.

Robert said I could find you here.
Possibly il flagrante.

We are not il… whatever you said.
We're not doing anything.

Scout's honor.

I have a missive from the shortwave.

Linda needs $100,000.

What? Shoot.

Robert?

Listen, I am running ever so late
to go with Evelyn to buy the Palm Royale.

And I need a $100,000 Dellacorte check
written out to cash for Linda.

Why don't you take the money for Linda
from the Rollins estate?

I can't take that money
because it is frozen. Thanks to me.

And if Evelyn ever finds that out,
she'll skin me like a cat.

But, Maxine, we went through this already.

Norma was not Norma, so the house
nor the money was hers to give me.

It's all Douglas's.

Half of which I am entitled to.
I'm just asking for a little up front.

- Take it up with Douglas.
- I can't tell him!

He'll give the whole
kit and caboodle to Pinky.

Yeah.

The answer is no, Maxine.

Why are all these paintings off the wall?

According to the will,

Norma wanted me to send these paintings
to the Dellacorte Hall in Switzerland.

So nice of you to do a favor for Norma,
and not do a favor for Maxine.

And I think you mean the fake Norma

because the real Norma is
a teenaged skeleton

in a European graveyard somewhere.

I love you, Maxine.

I love you too.

There's over six million dollars in gold.

Half is mine, half is the estate, aka you.

Perfecto.
They say gold is the easiest to hock.

Why would you need to hock anything?

I don't need to.
I'm just saying if the estate

were ever to need any…
something, you know.

Maxine, am I worried?

Golly gee, no. I'm just…
I'm thinking about the future.

Anyway, the fire-sale price
of the Palm is three mil,

so we each throw in half of our halves,

which, after purchase,
leaves us each with 1.5. Clear?

- Very clear.
- Okay. Let's go get it, partner.

- Okay.
- Sidonius.

We have all three signatures for you.

The Davidsouls. The Donahues.

And, of course, the Dellacortes.

Fantastic. Where's the money?

Ta-da.

- Oh, my God.
- I know.

Do you mean to say
that you are paying with gold?

- As a matter of fact, we are.
- No, no. Look at this.

- What?
- It has a serial number.

So what?

It's trackable. I cannot accept
trackable gold as payment for anything.

Why not?

Thanks to the Whitbys. The Whitbys
who ruined gold for all of Palm Beach--

- The yacht club.
- Yacht club? What yacht club?

- The yacht club.
- I'll tell you later.

The sale almost went through
until they noticed that every single bar

was stamped with the Nazi eagle.

Created a cascade of bruised feelings that
ricocheted all the way up to the Fed,

and now, they're considering
taking America

off the gold standard altogether,
all thanks to the Whitbys.

So, this isn't hockable?

No, it's not hockable.

Cash or the deal is off.

Did you even know gold was no good
in Palm Beach?

Yes, I knew.
I just wasted our time for nothing.

Sorry, I just love blaming you
for everything.

Oh, if it was last season
I'd just ransack the Dellacortes,

grab 20 or 30 Stoned Mables, and sell 'em.

What if…

We go to the Rollins manse.

I bet it's full of old geegaws
worth way more than a ton of gold.

That's not a bad idea.

Yeah.

Too bad it's all under lock and key.

Well, have tunnel, will travel.

Maxine, sometimes I must admit
you're good.

Easy does it. Easy does it. Nope, nope,
nope. You're not pushing hard enough.

I'm sorry. You push it yourself
and see how hard it is.

- I bet you don't get anywhere.
- Watch this.

All right. Okay.

- You're freakishly strong.
- Live and learn.

Oh, Dick.

Dick, so juicy and delicious. I love it.

Huge.

You are so dirty, Dick.

Oh, my God. Stop it.

No, you say goodbye first. Okay. Buh-bye.

Dick Nixon. Hero, American warlord.

Did he ask about me at all?

As a matter of fact…

he did.

He loves you running for mayor,
but he's one-upped me,

and this is why he's president.

Perry, he wants you to run as a Democrat.

I rebuke this.

Seeing as I'm officially the biggest
Democratic donor in Palm Beach,

thanks to Axel, he wants me to line up
a whole slate of Democratic losers,

so Republicans can run the table
come the election.

Starting with you, Per.
Isn't that brilliant?

You announce tonight

at Marjorie Merriweather Post's
square dance.

All the candidates
for mayor will be there.

So I have to stand up in front of everyone
and pretend to be a Democrat?

Yep.

Sorry. Has anyone seen Douglas?

Honey, I assumed he was with you.

And I assumed he was with him.

And I assumed he was doing Doug stuff.

When was the last time you saw him?

He wasn't on the couch
when I woke up this morning.

Maybe if you sleep in the same bed,
you could keep him at home.

He's been talking nonstop about Pinky
getting him. Do you think he got gotten?

I am sure he did not get gotten.

You know what helps in a moment
like this is a friendly, long-lasting,

carry-it-in-your-pocket-all-day-long hug.

Mitzi doesn't need a hug, Perry.

Here's what we're gonna do.

We'll stop by Pinky and Raquel's
to confirm he hasn't got gotten

before getting ready
for the big square dance, okay?

One hug, huh?

Honey, nobody wants any hugs.

Hi, here to see Raquel.

- Maximo, who is it?
- A lady.

- Dinah.
- Hi.

- I wasn't expecting company.
- Hi.

I'm in the middle of something.

Something as in…

Pinky and I, we're preparing to host.

Do you have a sec for a chat?

So, what are you,
in your second trimester?

Did you see that guy? He had the look
of a killer in his eye.

Yeah. So, have your ankles
started swelling or…

You don't think they're actually
gonna kill him, right?

Is he kicking yet?

Someone help me!

Sorry for the drop-in.
The reason for my calling was to make sure

that you and Pinky were attending
the square dance at Madge Post's place.

Mayor Barnhill really could use
your support.

I thought you were a Democrat now.

I may suddenly be the one running
the Palm Beach Democratic machine.

But Dick Nixon himself has charged me
with running losing candidates

so we can have a GOP sweep.

That's good.

Well, I'm doing it for Dick.

What some women won't do.

Help me!

What was that?

What was what?

That.

That shit pig tried to escape again.

If he escapes…

Pinky will cut out your tongue.

He's smarter than he looks.

Can you believe he chewed
through the ropes completely?

Just throw enough food in for two days,
and keep the door locked!

And when you finally do it,

make sure you bleed him fast,

or the screaming will draw attention.

Thank you, love.

Oh, gosh.

Do you speak Spanish?

No! I just repeated what you said.
I have a great ear.

You know what I don't have a lot of…
I don't have a lot of time right now.

- Of course. Sure.
- So, I'm gonna go. Okay.

Don't you… Just stay…
Thanks a lot, Raquel.

They have him. They have him.

I could hear him thrashing around,

and they were talking about killing him
in Spanish.

But they didn't know that I learned
a lot of Spanish from…

- From Eddie.
- …from my gap year in Ibiza,

if you must know, Perry.

Am I to be a widow?

No, we have a little time.
They're not going to do it tonight

because they're going to the big square
dance at Marjorie Merriweather Post's.

How cold-blooded.

It would be more cold-blooded
if they slit his throat

- and then went to the square dance.
- True.

We have to go to the police.

- No police, Mitzi. No police.
- Then the FBI.

No FBI either.

Perry, who are you?

The second that we go to the police,
the Dougster's a dead man.

No, we're gonna go to that square dance,

and you're gonna use your feminine wiles
with Pinky.

- What does that mean?
- It means you're gonna improvise.

- Exactly.
- The Dougster's life is on the line.

Now… if anyone in this car, Mitzi,
needs a hug,

just let me know.

Perry, drive.

Being in business with you
is just an absolute delight.

Keep your pants on.

Though, just let's do go in and out
real quick, like cat burglars.

What's your rush?
That stuff's not going anywhere.

I might have a little thingy,
dinner… thing.

You have a date? Whoever with?

Palm Beach's finest lawyer/gynecologist,
Dr. Dusty Magic.

And I'm gonna need eight hours
to get ready and a jar of mayonnaise.

Second date.

Maxine, second date? What a conundrum.

Conundrum?
Well, I don't really see it as that.

Look, it's just practice.

And, you know, just get back
in the swing of things.

Maxine, Dr. Dusty is doing perfectly fine,
but he's not doing Palm Beach fine.

He works for a living, so yes, practice,
meaning, you know, an opportunity to

brush out the cobwebs.

Truthfully, darling, how long has it been?

I think it's… been quite some time.

Well, hence the conundrum.

Polite girls wait until three,
but sometimes after two,

you're ready to give your all.

Well, I'm sure I don't know anything
about all that.

You see, well, it's kind of embarrassing.

What?

I've only ever been with Douglas.

You mean to say, you've only had…

You know…

- What's that?
- Bent dick.

What do you mean "bent dick"?

I have it on rather good authority

that Douglas's Ball Park Frank
rounds into home.

Not that it's any of your business,

but it… but it is…

a bit letter J in scope and demeanor.

I love it when a rumor goes right.

Are you saying they're not all like that?

Most of them, Maxine,
are straight as Saturn rockets.

- Like a pencil?
- But thicker.

Well, how do you know anyway
about Douglas's Douglas?

It's a very well-known story.

Long ago and far away, Douglas and Perry
and their other dum-dum Stag brothers

were playing the time immemorial
bachelor party game Brick-on-a-Dick.

Just like it sounds.

And apparently, Douglas worked
his way up to cinder block.

Suffice to say, poor Skeet
had to run him to the emergency room,

and the rest is history.

Gee, I wonder if that's why
I've got kidney problems.

Oh, good God.

Oh, good God.

Where's all my shit?

It must have been the feds.

I thought they were gonna freeze
my assets, not impound everything.

Those motherfuckers even took my birds.

Not a feather of which belonged to Linda.

Hey, Evelyn, look. It's an accounting.

This is disgusting.
Literally every single thing.

They even cataloged my old pasties.
Left and right nipples separately.

Evelyn. Look, a receipt.

"Five thousand dollars."

And nothing left to hock.

What do we do?

Hello.

What are you doing?

Just reading a little bit.

All the guys are going to Ronald's
bachelor party tonight.

I'm the only one on duty.

It might not be
the most romantic environment,

but I did bring a picnic dinner.

For two.

- If you're interested.
- I'd love that.

Robert! Robert!

- I'll see you in a few. All right, bye.
- Robert!

Yes?

We gotta sell those paintings.

But they've been shipped.

Unship them.

They've been shipped.

Ratselfrackle.

Okay, just give me a minute.

Curious.

How much money is in
the Dellacorte accounts anyway?

I'm not telling.

Are you still struggling?

Please. And yes.

A whole bunch.

A whole bunch?
You've been holding out on me.

How's this?

You write me a check
for a whole bunch of money.

I write you an IOU.

I take the Rollins' gold,
turn it into cash, and pay you back.

It's called a bridge loan,
and I know about this

because I am now an international
woman of business.

But that's not gonna happen, Maxine.

You decided not to tell Douglas
and I agreed,

'cause it was for the best.

How can you remain so calm in all this?

Because I'm off to fuck an FBI agent.

Bye-bye.

Selfish!

Maxine!

I have another missive from the airwaves,

but sadly no bootlegger.

The monsoon washed away everything!

Up the amount to 200,000!

And remember, Maxine, "banana slug!"

The children of the Sierras Chicas
are depending on you!

Can't believe you got all that
on this teeny, tiny, little card.

Katherine Gibbs secretarial school.

I'll get the door.

- Yello.
- Yello.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Why, you got quite a place here.

Well, it's not really mine.
I mean, technically. Not yet.

I don't know.

You forgot about our second date.

No! Gosh, no.

Oh, gosh. It's practically
all I've been thinking about.

Here's the thing. I'm so sorry.
I do have to cancel.

You mind telling me why?

There's an emergency.

Two emergencies that I have
to deal with now. Tonight.

First things first,
these flowers are sagging faster

than tits on a bull in the Sahara.

Oh, no. That's terrible.

Vase? Water?

There. In the bar.
To the left. Around the wall.

How many bathrooms do you have here?

Many.

They're all flushable?

Oh, my.

Look at you.

Second things second,

I think you haven't dated anyone
besides your husband in 20 years,

and you're exhibiting
classic avoidance anxiety.

Yeah, see, the reason why my
gynecological practice is so successful

is because it's bolstered by
a secondary doctorate in psychology.

Secondary doctorate?

Yeah, I'm what you'd call an HMI.

Highly motivated individual.

Now, why don't we go on date two,

followed up by a square dance
at Marjorie Post's place

and you tell me about these emergencies?

See, there's something
I can't really tell you,

'cause it concerns…

Wait. I guess I can tell you
about my situation with Linda

because you're my lawyer and
we've got attorney-client privilege.

Bingo.

And I can tell you about my international
woman of business troubles with Evelyn.

- Fix you a drink?
- Yes, please.

So, Evelyn and I need three million to
cement the purchase of the Palm Royale.

Now. Tonight.

And Linda, she's spearheading…

urgent literary intervention
in the jungle, and needs $200,000.

- Also now. Tonight.
- Right.

And, well, the remains
of the Rollins estate,

they're in gold bars which are unusable.

Because the Whitbys ruined gold
in Palm Beach. Thanks to the Nazis.

So, as you can see,
I really can't go on our date.

Well. Now, au contraire.

Our date, young lady, is now imperative.

Imperative? Why?

Who do you think wound up
buying the Whitbys' Nazi gold?

Who?

None other than Marjorie Merriweather…

- Post.
- Post.

All that shit was priceless!

Does nobody know
the worth of anything anymore?

The entire parlor was Chippendale.

Maybe this is an opportunity.

Where's the opportunity in
having your entire life confiscated?

It's as if I never even existed!

It's also a brand-new slate.

Well, that's easy for you to say.

You've never been told that your
entire life only adds up to $5,000.

No, but my family and I were
hustled onto a boat at midnight

with just the shirts on our backs

to escape the most beautiful
prison on Earth and avoid execution.

It's not very fair of you, Eddie,

to hold a trump card like that
when I'm in chaos.

It's what happened.

And I appreciate the perspective.

Still, there is…

There's one thing
I wish I could've retained.

Skeet had it made for me.

A gold statue of myself in my heyday
as a showgirl.

I always loved that piece.

Anyway…

I guess our dream has been dashed.

That'll teach me for having ambition.
What a fool.

And I was so looking forward
to seeing everybody's faces

when they realized they'd
underestimated the tennis pro.

Where are you going?

To make a drink. For you.

What's wrong?

It was just a passing thought.
Think nothing of it.

Evelyn.

It was just a little flash
of irrationality that…

you were leaving me.

Why would you jump to that?

Because I've just disappointed you.

Forgive my knee-jerk alarm.

It's been a day.

It's been a life, for that matter.

I'm going to have feelings.

And when I do have a feeling,
it does not mean that I'm leaving.

It's Evelyn. What?

Evelyn, tell me you've got
rodeo gear and spurs.

Of course I do. Why?

'Cause after my dinner,
you and I are going

on a good old-fashioned,
gold bar-selling hootenanny.

Shall we?

Welcome to Marge's Mighty Mar-a-Lago
square dance soiree!

- There they are.
- Where?

Over there.
Doug's imprisoned and they're dancing.

It's okay, honey.

I'm getting dizzy.

No, no, no. Mitzi, now's your chance.

Ass out, tits up. Dance on over,
make a plea to Pinky.

That really objectifies me.

Listen, little Mitzi Mitz,
you want Douglas's release or not?

Mitzi, I'm gonna do it. For you.

Do what?

If they're here,

that means he's there. Alone.

Which means this is my one chance
to get my Stag brother,

aka Dougy Buggy, aka your husband.

And I'm gonna do it… for you.

- I'm gonna go to the cops.
- Hold up. What did you say?

I said, "I'm dizzy. I need to stop."

Are you a registered voter in Palm Beach?

Are you a Democrat?

You look like a Democrat.

I've never had a man
who wanted to solve my problems.

I've always been the problem solver.

I have to admit it's…
Well, it's unsettling.

In the best of ways, I hope.

Yes.

You certainly are a confident man.

Moment I laid eyes on you, I just knew.

Pray tell. Knew what?

That I'd found someone like me.

You're a fixer, Maxine. A doer.

And you can see the gears of the world

and you know just exactly which one to jam

to get exactly what you want.

If I may be so forward,
what do you want, Maxine?

I haven't looked. Was gonna try the gator.

In life. No, what do you want in life?

Gee.

I don't think anyone's
ever asked me that before.

Really?

It's certainly been
as long as I can remember

that anyone has truly,
actually considered me.

Well, that… You know?

The reason why I bring this up
is that, well,

I like you, Maxine.

And I'm not gonna lie, I've been hurt.

Although my outward demeanor
doesn't show it.

You poor thing.
You're once bitten, twice shy. I'm sorry.

Which does give me a pause

when I hear your confusion
over moving on from your marriage.

Look, the thing
I want out of life most is love.

I know that may sound
corny or old-fashioned,

but, Dr. Dusty, I do.

I believe in love.

I'm gonna hold your hand now.

Maxine, there is nothing silly about love.

And if I may be so forward,

if I'm ever gonna let the big L
imprint itself on my heart again,

there's one thing that I need to know.

That you are over him.

I promise. As sure as I'm sitting here.

If there is a biting type
out there, well, that is just not me.

That's all I needed to hear.

- And that is--
- So sorry to interrupt.

Welcome to the Fang and Tail.

Loxahatchee's preeminent and gourmet
alligator-dining experience.

My name is Jedebedahia,
your gator sommelier.

On tonight's menu, Esmeralda.

Esmeralda's gonna be
a bit salty on the palate

for those who prefer
a ocean-reared specimen.

Over here, we have Jake.

Jake is gonna be a bit more sinewy,

but with a truly rewarding gamy finish.

Now we do have a special tonight.

Now Miss Hildegard has been raised
on nothing but Bing cherries,

which will impart
the sweetest of sensations.

- Hildegard.
- Hildegard.

Jinx. Buy me a Coke.

And we'll begin with 20 ounces of caviar,

a gin martini for me…

Twist, naturally. And…

You don't really want a Coke, do you?

Oh, no, thank you.
Just a figure of speech.

And for the lady?

A Grasshopper.

You do have crème de cacao?

Do we ever.

We'll get those drinks flowing
and get this alligator party started.

Thank you, "Jebededebeda."

Sorry you missed your bachelor party.

- I prefer my own private party.
- That's right.

But we can't always rely on
agents getting married.

And I'm sorry
you can't come to my place anymore.

I know a place.
A motel in West Palm Beach.

Guess you could call it a "no tell" motel.

Seeing as we can't meet
at your place anymore.

I'm kinda falling in love with you.

Aren't you gonna say

you're kind of falling in love
with me too?

Can we come up with another word for us?

That one's just fine. Tried and true.

See, but I met someone last season,

and I was about to drop everything
for him, and…

And what?

Well, you arrested him.

Yeah, right after Maxine tipped you off.

The con artist.

That's… ironic.

And you loved him?

No, everything was so fast.

That was the first word
that jumped into my heart.

So I want a new word for us.

And a future.

I can promise you a now

and then another now.

And enough nows
add up to a future, don't they?

- Hello?
- Down.

Hello?

I'd like to report a kidnapping.

- Now.
- Yes, ma'am.

What happened to your shirt?

I'm in the middle of changing shifts.

- What's this?
- I'll be right back.

- Do you mind?
- Please.

The baby loves charcuterie.

Sides go in and then rotate
Heads will follow, don't be late

- Are you guys pushing?
- Yeah.

- Look at all this loot.
- Marjorie is a world-class hoarder.

Geezy creezy.

- Those are Fabergé eggs.
- Very good, Maxine.

Out of a dozen surviving imperial eggs
made for the Romanovs,

she's got 11 of them.

Boo-hoo-hoo.

You need to sell your chalice.

I don't care if it is the cup
that caught the blood

from the severed penis
of Saint Whosit-Whatsit.

I won't pay a penny
over its market weight in silver!

Minus 40%.

Children. Why do we have them, am I right?

I'm assuming that's her.

From here on out,
only speak when spoken to, Maxine.

In the outside world, Madge Post
is peaches and cream,

but behind closed doors,
she'll tear your face off

faster than a chimpanzee
and give it to her men

to sauté for breakfast
with a side of cereal.

I do not have a good feeling about this.

All we need between Maxine as the estate
and me as…

well, me, is three mil to
make it happen. The rest is gravy.

- Evelyn.
- Marjorie.

You brought the shit.

We did indeed bring the shit.

- Allow me to introduce my lawyer.
- All right.

Dr. Dusty Magic, at last we meet.

Your reputation precedes you.

I know.

And this--

I don't give a shit who they are.

Let's get this over with
and get on up to dancing.

Evelyn, isn't that chair yours?

Yes.

And that's my mantel clock,
and my statues.

My birds! Oh, my…
All of this shit, it's mine.

I may have made my fortune
in grape nuts and frozen foods,

but my secret passion is buying
and upselling other people's crap.

I have an agreement with the feds.

They silo all their seizures to me
for cents on the dollar.

I sell high to auction houses
across the world.

There's no better high on Earth,

save mixing a little heroin
and cocaine in my Minute Tapioca.

Great constitutional.

So, everything from
the Rollins' mansion is now in your hand?

Damn right. It's called business.

That's why we're here.

And we do know a lot
about business. Don't we, Evelyn?

Yes, apparently all business
starts with grand larceny

aided by the US government,
and Nazi gold under mattresses.

Don't make me
wipe the judgment off your tongue.

No, no, no, no, no.
We would never judge a woman

with such clear and obvious
and astounding business acumen.

I mean, this is genius!

How did you even think of
a vault in the basement?

Oh, gosh. I dream someday
I can have one of these.

Hey, you! Get where I can see you.

I started building this in '63.
Cuban Missile Crisis.

My architect said, "You're crazy!
Mar-a-Lago's perfect.

128 rooms, ocean on one side,
intercoastal on the other.

What now, Madge? A bunker too?"

But when this world blows sky-high,
and it will, I'll be ready.

Will you?

I'll give you
50 cents on the dollar for it.

For gold?

Marjorie, there's only one price for gold.
It's the price of gold.

Except when you have serialized bars
and you need cash in a hurry.

And if you're like me,
there's nothing more arousing

than having people over a barrel.

Makes me wanna get up and square dance!

Unless…

you have my long longed-for Fabergé egg.

Then you can name your price.

I wish we had it. We don't have it.

- No? Well, too bad.
- This is highway robbery.

All right. Miss Post, this situation
is a take it or take it.

Well, then.

While they count up this shit,
let's dance it out.

You sure were something back there.

Well, you sure are something too,
Dr. Dusty Magic.

Well, I'm glad you noticed.

You are putting on such a brave face
after everything that's happened today.

And give Madge the satisfaction of knowing
how badly she's humiliated me?

Till that money gets here,
it's yippy-kay-yay all the livelong day.

Marjorie, doll, heck of a hootenanny.

Have you seen that rascal, Perry?

I know we're getting close to speech time.

Well, well.

If it isn't Dinah "Black Widow" Rosenhips.

I am doing my very best
to put that cruel moniker behind me.

It's the right word to describe
anybody associated with Axel Rosenhips.

"You'll never get my egg
as long as I'm alive, Madge."

"Dear Madge, finally ready
to sell my egg. Just kidding."

I haven't the foggiest idea
what you're talking about.

Three syllables. Fa-ber-gé.

I… still not getting it.

I think you do.
In fact, I bet you've got it.

And that's why I hate Democrats.

And why your husband will be mayor
over my dead body.

I own the ballots
and the boxes they're stuffed into.

We have no intention of winning.

We are here on the orders of
President Nixon himself to, in fact, lose.

We're on the same side here.

I find that curious.

Most curious indeed.

Well, turns out it was 6.8 million
market dollars in gold.

Half of that is 3.4.

Eddie, have the valet pull the car around.

Careful, that's heavy.
That's 3 mil right there.

And this is where I bid you
a good fucking good night.

And what about the…

The…

Commitment.

Point four. It's right on the money.

Consider yourself blessed, Maxine.

That's your portion of the commitment.

Consider yourself magic.

Maxine?

What's your commitment?

I'm not at liberty to say.

Except that the Rollins Estate
has been asked

to send funds to someone.

Not Linda.

Will you excuse us, Dr. Dusty?

- Maxine, do you know where Linda is?
- Come with me.

There might have been something
that came across the airwaves,

in a general sense,
as the conservator of the estate.

How could I have been such a dum-dum.

It was you who got Linda out of town.

Well, I'm certainly not
gonna admit to that.

That would be admitting
to a federal crime.

Which means this is all your fault.

My losing the Rollins mansion,
the locked assets, the missing cash.

Fifty cents on the dollar to gold!

What does it matter now?

We've got our unbreakable bond
of sisterhood.

Partners. International women
of business. Together.

Like hell I'd partner
with a rat like you, Maxine.

That six mil is mine.

And all the other lost millions

can now be considered the doing
of the estate, aka you.

The Palm Royale is now mine
under sole ownership.

And if you set one foot inside it,
so help me, I'll break it.

Swing your partner, spin them round

Promenade…

I ruin everything.

And I never even made contact
with that dang courier.

- I got something to tell you, Maxine.
- What is it?

Banana slug.

Come again?

Banana slug.

Banana slug. You. You?

You're the courier?

It's dangerous work
but I'm a dedicated man.

What can't you do, Dr. Dusty Magic?

I can do things
you've never dreamed of, Maxine.

So go wire this money.

And then, if I may be so bold,

meet me at the Dellacorte pool house

where you and I will have
the most vigorous, animal sex

you've ever had in your entire life.

Thus beginning to
heal the wounds in my heart and yours.

My goodness.

Are you gonna kiss me? No.

I'm gonna do it.

I'm gonna do it!

And now we're going to introduce
our two candidates for may…

I know, I know there are seven running,

but Lord knows I'm not inviting
the Socialists or the Greens to my stage.

It's bad enough having a Democrat.

Republican candidate for mayor,
Incumbent Benny Barnhill.

Benny, come on. Get over here.

Thank you, most honorable lady.

Isn't she amazing?

Maxine,
I've been looking all over for you.

- What? What is it?
- Pinky took Douglas hostage.

Are you serious?

Pinky's trying to kill him because
Douglas didn't give him the Dellacorte.

He's so selfish!

He's ruining everything!
I was just about to do it!

He didn't know he was gonna get kidnapped.

No, it is indeed every bit his fault.

Sooner or later
he was gonna find out, Maxine.

We tried.

Well…

If Evelyn wants a fight…

then a fight she will get.

And that's why I want to continue
as your mayor of Palm Beach.

Why, thank you, Mayor Benny Barnhill,

for that rousing speech.

And now we're going to introduce

the Democratic candidate
for mayor, Perry Donahue.

Perry?

Perry, don't be afraid.

We're only a mildly hostile crowd.

Where is he?

Oh, God.

Are you really gonna do this?

Risk your life for a washed-up pilot
who can't remember your birthday.

Oh, God.

I think I just pooped myself.

No, I really poop… I pooped myself.

My husband is indisposed
so I will give his prepared remarks.

Dear Lord, please don't let them
find my dead body

with poop in my white pants.

I am here to tell you

that Perry Donahue

stands for so many liberal,
socially responsible things.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait.

Maybe I didn't poop myself.
Maybe I just farted.

Perry loves the environment.

He believes that your drinking water
should be safe

from lead and arsenic.

And that it shouldn't cause cancer.

What's more,
Perry believes in women's rights.

Come on!

Be somebody, Perry.

Be a hero.

Perry also believes
that innocent civilians

shouldn't be incinerated by napalm.

Communist!

Somebody cut her mic now!

- Thank you.
- Yes, very much.

Who wants to hear me yodel?

I want to be a cowboy's sweetheart

I want to learn to rope and to ride

I want to ride o'er the plains
And the desert

Out west of the Great Divide

I want to hear the coyotes howlin'

While the sun sinks in the west

I want to be a cowboy's sweetheart

That's the life that I love best

Dougy, are you in there?

I want to ride Old Paint
Goin' at a run

I wanna feel the wind in my face

A thousand miles from the city lights

Goin' a cowhand's pace

I want to pillow my head
Near the sleeping herd

While the moon shines down from above

I want to strum my guitar and…

Oh, that's the life that I love

Pinky!

- Fine, you can have it.
- Have what?

The Dellacorte.
You get to keep it for the club.

My handshake is my contract.

And bad things happen
if you go back on it, sabes?

All right. You can let him go now.

- Let who go?
- Douglas.

I'm coming for you, buddy.

I don't have Douglas.

You didn't kidnap Douglas?

Yes, she said kidnap.

But we have the Dellacorte mansion now.

Wait!

Where is Linda Shaw?

I have no idea.

We know you flew her to Cuba.

And we know who's behind it.

You do?

I want to be a cowboy's sweetheart

I want to learn to rope and to ride

I want to ride o'er the plains
And the desert

Out west of the Great Divide

I want to hear the coyotes howlin'

While the sun sinks in the west

I want to be a cowboy's sweetheart

That's the life that I love best

That was an eventful night.

I'm sorry about all your belongings.

Well, it wasn't easy come,
but it sure was easy go.

Story of my life.

I believe this belongs to you.

Eddie.

Eddie.

She's back.

So it's this massive mansion,

this guy comes barreling
along the side. Okay.

Followed by a big fat pig.

No kidding.

- Oh, my God.
- Yeah.

I guess we both had
a very interesting night.

The people in this town are nuts.

How did you hear about this place?

I raided it last year.

I'm kidding.
I'm keeping it from being raided.

I have a feeling we're going to have
a really good time here.

What's curious,
Evelyn Rollins of the past,

is just this afternoon I thought
you were a depiction of me

at the height of my powers…

when in reality,

you are now witness to it.

Damn Douglas. I gave up everything.

Pinky doesn't even have him. Typical.

Okay.

Okay.

This is officially revenge sex.

Coming!

Douglas? Where are your clothes?

The feds, Max.

The feds black bagged me
and held me for days.

Thank God. Food.

What? What?

Yeah. They know
that I flew Linda out of town,

but I didn't crack.

They think Pinky is involved
because it was his plane,

and he's the one
that they're really after.

I just managed to save you
and all the women of Palm Beach

so, you're welcome.

And nobody even cares that I was missing.

Nobody cares.

Nobody cares?

I've got news for you.

Thanks to your dum-dum disappearing act,
I thought Pinky was gonna kill you.

So I traded the Dellacorte
for your release,

- and he never had you in the first place!
- What?

Don't you think you should have
fucking confirmed

that Pinky had me
before you gave away my house?

How very dare you!

- Idiot.
- You're looking… sexy.

- Are you…
- Yes.

Douglas, yes!

I am about to screw someone else!

That's him. That's him.

All right.
Well, I am not sticking around for this.

No. You can't go out that way.

- You can't-- No, no.
- I can't go out that way? It's my house.

- You're gonna go out the back.
- I don't go out the back of my house.

Why would I go out the back
of my own house?

- He should be the one going out the back.
- Coming!

Douglas!

I see I'm interrupting.

No, no, no. No, this is…
This is not what it looks like at all.

Sorry about this, man.

Would you shut up, Douglas?

I thought you said you didn't bite.

I…

I… No, I don't. I know it looks--

Goodbye, Maxine. Good luck.

What?

No. I…

Good riddance to him, huh?

Hello, Robert.