All language subtitles for Bojack.horseman.S04E05.WEBrip.STRiFE.English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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Oh, no. No, no. No, no, no, no, no.

Sorry to interrupt your lunch, but
there was another mass shooting.

Oh, God, where?

A town outside Tampa called...

Not geographically, dipshit.
What's the location?

What is it, a pharmacy? A haberdashery?

- It was a shopping mall.
- No!

- Ms. Taken is coming out next month.
- I know, sir.

The whole third act revolves
around Courtney Portnoy

shooting people in a mall.

What are we supposed to do
now, not release the movie?

I hope it doesn't come to that.

I am sick and tired of
real-life gun violence

getting in the way of us telling
stories that glamorize gun violence.

Why does this keep happening?
Has the whole world gone crazy?

No, we've just been conditioned
by a rugged individualist culture

woven into the savage architecture
of our country itself,

birthed as it was through
violent uprising,

but perhaps popularized in the
modern imagination by stories of...

Okay, Chomsky, when I want you to talk,

I'll staple a string to
your back and then yank it.

Why not make yourself useful

and schedule a sit-down with
Courtney Portnoy's team

to talk about how we distance ourselves
from this fakakte mishegoss.

Got it. Except for the
foccacia Michigan part.

Excuse me, could you point me
in the direction of an H&M?

Sure. But when you get
there, you're gonna be DOA.

Uh-uh. You picked the wrong
shopaholic to mess with.

Because this shopaholic's
also a holic for revenge.

Die, scum!

Courtney Portnoy-vey.

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- Wow. Carla Mercedes Benzbrown.
- Yep.

- My mother.
- That's right.

- I lied!
- What?

There's no Carla Mercedes Benzbrown.

- I have no idea who your mother is.
- What?

I don't want to have a
relationship lying to each other.

Okay, so why did you lie to me?

I meant everything else I said.

I'll do everything I can
to help find your mom.

To be honest, moms
aren't all that great.

In fact, in my experience,
they're soulless succubi

born fully formed from the ass of Satan.

Oh, my grandmother sounds
like quite a character.

- Can I meet her?
- Oh, my mom?

No, you cannot meet my mom
because she's... dead.

- Oh.
- Dead mom.

BoJack, what happened to
the fudgesicles I bought?

- I lied again. My mom's not dead.
- Stop lying to me!

That was, like, 15 minutes of lie.
Plus, you don't want to meet my mom.

I do. Where does she live?

Oh, this spectacular
elder care facility,

she has her own private
room with a nice view,

'round-the-clock medical care,

and plenty of other seniors to
say casually cruel things to

under a passive-aggressive
veil of plausible deniability.

What's this place called?

I want to say Whispering Pines.
Whistling Pines?

Unbelievable.

Something with a W. Winter's Bone?

- Take me there.
- Fine!

- For real this time?
- Yes. I promise.

I am not gonna lie to you ever again.

- Did you eat the last fudgesicle?
- No.

I lied. I lied about the fudgesicle.

All this time you thought I was
just another damsel in distress,

but I'm afraid you were mis... guided.

Oh... oh.

- That is not good.
- Okay.

Everybody set a Google
Alert for "mass shooting."

Can't keep getting caught off guard.

This is so sad.

You always hear about mass shootings
affecting other people's movie openings,

but you never think they're gonna
affect your movie opening.

My thoughts and prayers to the
victims and their families.

- Of course. Yeah, thoughts and prayers.
- Thoughts and prayers.

Tragedy like this really
puts things in perspective.

Like, what are we doing
sitting in a conference room?

Life is short. We should have
this meeting at a water park.

Whoa! A water park where
people have meetings.

- Maybe that's the movie.
- I'm sorry, who is this schmuck?

I'm Courtney's asexual fake fiancé.

He's a common person/supermodel,

being engaged to him makes me
appear more approachable/glamorous.

Okay-slash-whatever. We still have time
to cut the mall shootout from the film.

That still leaves the
movie theater shootout,

the shootout at the county fair, the...

We should probably lose the
movie theater shootout.

Right. Well, we still have
the county fair shootout.

Oh, dear.

- This is a sad day.
- What?

I gotta take this.

- BoJack?
- Hi.

- Where have you been?
- Listen.

I'm sorry. I was an
awful boyfriend to you.

I was an awful client, and
I was an awful friend.

This last year I spent some time away

and it made me realize how special
the people in my life are.

And you might be the most
special of them all.

Wow, BoJack.

I... I appreciate that.

Anyway, the real reason I'm calling is,

do you remember the name of that
super nice elder care facility

that we both agreed was the best place
for my mom to run out the clock?

Oh, pluck a duck. It's
called Walnut Springs.

Walnut Springs! I knew there
was a W in there. Bye!

What?

I feel like I didn't strike the
right tone in the last phone call.

I really am sorry, and the
most important thing is,

you know how dedicated I am
to making things right again.

Okay. Thank you.

Anyway, the real reason I'm calling is,

turns out there's a few Walnut
Springses in the SoCal area.

It's the one in Santa Barbara, dummy!

- Yeesh! Cranky much? Who died?
- A lotta people!

Sorry, what did I miss?

Courtney's beloved was outlining
his plan to curtail gun violence.

I'm just saying, if people have
the right pumped-up kicks,

maybe they can outrun the bullets.

All this talk of gun
violence is depressing.

Ms. Taken is a movie about empowerment.

That's what I've been saying!

It's Bridget Jones with
slightly more bloody murdering.

We just have to keep
the story on Courtney,

and not on the depressingly
unstoppable rise

of real-life gun violence in this
country, thoughts and prayers.

- Thoughts and prayers.
- Thoughts and prayers.

Oh.

The House Majority
Whip outlined a new bipartisan plan

to encourage you to answer
your ringing phone.

For Thursday, October
12, this is All Rings Considered.

- I'm Robert Siegel.
- And I'm Audie Cornish.

The proposed bill would take effect
when someone tries to call you

and you hear this ringtone.

- Hello?
- Diane!

I got an exclusive for you.

You are going to write a glowing feature
about my client and her new movie.

- Why would I...
- You know Courtney Portnoy.

You probably recall when she soared
as the thorny horticulturist

in One Sordid Fortnight With
the Short-Skirted Sorceress.

- Uh...
- How would you enjoy joining Portnoy

for a scorched soy porterhouse
pork four-courser at Koi?

- Wait, what?
- Glorify your source,

but don't make it feel forced, of
course, and try the borscht. Smooches!

- Hey...
- And that's how you do it, folks.

Oh...

You're telling me you didn't
feel one twinge of guilt

when you left your mom in this place?

Uh... twinge of guilt, twinge of
guilt, trying to remember, no.

- Definitely not.
- Damn.

You didn't know my mom.

Football? You don't have
the haunches for it.

You'll only embarrass yourself, as
in every other endeavor you pursue.

But, Mom...

If you're looking to get knocked around

for an afternoon, why don't you just
read one of your father's manuscripts

and tell him his prose is
pedestrian and derivative?

Works for me every time.

Mrs. Horseman, you have a visitor.

Oh, uh...

- Hi, Mom.
- Do I know you?

Here we go. Yes, Mom, I never visit.
You got me.

- Henrietta?
- Okay, we're doing this?

I think she really doesn't
know who you are.

She knows. This is just
like when she pretended

not to recognize me after my shaky
choir solo in eighth grade.

I had to get a ride
home with the pianist

who liked to tickle a lot
more than just the ivories.

When I made it home unscathed, she
said, "Huh. I guess no one wants you."

Henrietta, could I trouble you
for some orange juice, please?

Stop calling me Henrietta!
Nobody here's named Henrietta!

Henrietta, orange juice. Now!

You're not being paid for
polite conversation.

- BoJack, maybe you should just...
- Oh, hello! It's you.

Hollyhock.

I must apologize for Henrietta. She
learned to read on secondhand books.

Mom, do you really not know who I am?
Me, famous BoJack?

If you are getting orange
juice, I'd love a glass too.

Oh. Uh, okay.

So you see I'm really quite
ordinary and relatable.

Yeah, you put your pants
on one leg at a time.

Well, I step into my
pants one leg at a time,

then my trouser-maidens lift the legs
simultaneously to avoid wrinklage.

Well, right, of course, why
else have trouser-maidens?

- Hey. Konichiwa, Princess Mulan.
- Just leave us alone, okay?

I was giving you a compliment.

First, konichiwa is not a compliment,
it's Japanese for hello.

Second, I'm not Japanese.

Maybe I could put something
in that sweet mouth of yours

- so you don't have to talk so much.
- Whoa!

One more step, asshole.

- What...
- Whoa, whoa, whoa!

I was joking. I don't want any trouble.

- Tell your story walking.
- ...the...

shit was that?

I don't know! My instincts
just kicked in.

Why do you even have a gun?

Well, using it in the
movie was so empowering,

and now I just carry it everywhere.
Do you want to hold it?

No, I am very anti-gun.

In fact, I think the whole
idea of guns is inherently...

Holy shit, I'm holding a gun. How
long has this been in my hand?

- Slides right in, doesn't it?
- It actually feels kind of nice.

Would you like to try shooting it?
We can go to my gun range.

You have your own gun range?

I'm Courtney Portnoy. I
have all the things.

Whoa...

I can't believe you came back.

- Who, me? Or BoJack?
- You look just like him.

People tell me that.

Your mother's dementia
is progressing rapidly.

- You came out of nowhere.
- Yes.

I snuck up on you on purpose as a symbol
for the alarming creep of dementia.

- It isn't there, until it is.
- Thank you, very colorful.

We tried to call you, but
the number you gave us

connected to a sandwich
shop in Temecula.

Is that right?

This is the most responsive
she's been in weeks.

I think with regular visits
from you and your daughter...

That's not happening.

Seeing my mom is like a
Terrence Malick movie.

Every ten years or so is bearable,

but more than that and it
starts to get annoying.

She won't last another ten years.

Well, I guess that's it, then. Bye, Mom!

- Huh?
- Come on, Hollyhock,

let's blow this Jell-O stand.

We're gonna come back though, right?

We can't just leave her like this.

You can do anything if
you believe in yourself.

- We have to come back.
- Henrietta?

- Every week.
- Why?

Because she's your mother
and dementia is hereditary.

One day, you're gonna be in a
home like this, and so will I,

and wouldn't you want
someone visiting you?

Fine. We'll come back. Happy?

Where's my orange juice, slag?

Ahhh!

Ahhh! See ya next week.

- Hey, are we out of milk?
- I can pick up some after work.

Great. Also, real quick follow-up,
why are you holding a gun?

Oh, my God!

Did I drive all the way home without
realizing I was holding a gun?

No wonder that guy at the gas station
didn't charge me for the Red Vines.

Did I rob a gas station?

Classic Diane shenanigans.

Or as I call them, "Diane-igans."
All right, be safe.

Hmm.

Let's get one thing
out of the way right now.

If you're a man, you're
not gonna get it.

Some of you think you get it.
You want to get it.

You listen, nod and say
all the right things

when we tell you our stories.

But you still can't actually
know what it feels like

to constantly have your guard up.

In parking garages, walking
the street, even at work.

I'm tired of trying to
help men understand

how it feels to be a woman.

Starting now, I'm doing what it takes

to put the power in my own hands.

That's why I own a gun.

- That was our senior picnic.
- Oh.

Oh, here I am. There's Polio Larry.

Yup, she sure remembers
all the important people.

- And who's this?
- That's my brother, Crackerjack.

That's not Crackerjack, that's me.

Thirty seconds after
that picture was taken

you yelled at me for getting
ice cream on my shorts.

No ice cream for me, Henrietta.
I'm watching my figure.

Yeah, you want to look pretty
for when Death comes to visit.

Beth? No.

We stopped talking after she
wouldn't eat my casserole

and then I told the whole supper
club that her son was a gay.

- Ooh.
- Okay. You two enjoy each other.

I'm gonna go see if I can
seduce a lonely dowager

into giving me her night-night pills.

Wow. Is this you?

- This is me at my debutante ball.
- You were so beautiful.

You could be thin, too.
Just go easy on the sweets

and when you go somewhere,
don't walk, gallop.

Ice cold, Grammy-gram.

Morning time, Hollywoo!

I'm A Ryan Seacrest Type.

And I'm A Billy Bush Type.

Here's something I'm just
now reading on a cue card.

All the ladies are getting
concealed carry permits.

It's the newest thing.

I wouldn't want to be
around one of those ladies

at a certain time of the month,
if you know what I mean.

I don't.

Joking aside, I think it's
great these gals have a hobby.

Oh, and I'm being told by our producers
that we have a breaking news alert...

There has been another mass shooting.

I am totally unqualified to cover
a news story this important.

But as a straight white male, I
will plow forward with confidence

and assume I'm doing fine.

Again with the crazy gunmen.

Princess Carolyn, if this keeps up,

we're gonna have to put
this movie on the shelf

next to that wacky vacation comedy
we did about the klutzy babysitter.

Ha! That sounds hilarious!

What the hell are you
doing on this call?

Imagining that funny movie
you just described.

Okay, what do all these
shootings have in common?

Guns? Bullets? Who are you, Art
Linkletter? Just spit it out.

Men! What if we played up
the "Ms." in Ms. Taken?

In a world of increasing terror,

our movie tells women they don't
have to be afraid anymore.

- Yeah, now you're talking.
- When you put it that way,

it almost sounds like
these mass shootings

could be a good thing for the movie.

No, no, no, of course not.
They're a terrible tragedy.

Thoughts and prayers
are with the victims.

- Right, thoughts and prayers.
- But...

anything that makes women feel unsafe
might actually help our box office.

But you don't want women to feel unsafe.

Of course not!

Nobody wants that, nobody's saying that.

But if they already do feel unsafe,

there's no reason not to capitalize.

Right, if they already
feel unsafe anyway.

Exactly, we're not
making them feel unsafe.

We're just profiting, albeit indirectly,
from there being more mass shootings.

In that case, I got good
news and I got bad news.

Bad news is you're gonna
want to avoid the 405.

- Ta-da!
- Ugh! Keep it down.

Why are you carrying
that thin hard book?

It's not a book, it's a DVD case.

We did a special episode
about elder care.

Now we're gonna watch it and
learn how to handle this bitch.

When you say "this bitch",

do you mean your mom's
dementia or your mom?

I think you can pick
that up through context.

Season two, episode 12.

"I'm Ready For My Close-Up, Mr.
Dementia."

I'll go lie down.

- Hey, Ethan, who's your friend?
- Ethan made a friend?

This old man followed
me home from the park.

- Can I keep him?
- Aww.

Here we go, again.

- BoJack?
- Mom?

Hush, Henrietta. That's
my son on the television.

You know him?

I think I'd know my own son, wouldn't I?

You heard the boss man.

Guess your daughter, the bikini model,
will have to pick you up at the park.

Daughter, the bikini model?

Whoa, whoa, Ethan,
this man is our guest!

Uh...

Huh.

- You know I hate guns, right?
- I know.

Although my official
stated political opinion

is I respect the Second Amendment
but I think some gun purchases

should require the barest
amount of background checks.

Mr. Peanutbutter, you
know I hate guns, too.

Or I thought I did. Or
I still do, mostly.

But being a gun owner finally makes me
feel as safe walking down the street

as a man gets to feel all the time.

And that's an incredible feeling
I'm not ready to give up yet.

If you can frack under our house,
I should get to have a gun.

All right, that's fair.

I'm really proud we've found a way

to keep our personal lives and our
political lives compartmentalized.

Me, too.

- You have no idea...
- Yes. I have no idea?

- Is your bubble of privilege so thick,
- What's with humans and guns?

You're addicted to these things.

And what is it with men and not
wanting women to feel safe?

- I don't...
- This is a gendered issue...

- Excuse me!
- ...make no mistake.

- I don't think women...
- You can't sympathize...

...running around with
guns makes anybody safer.

- Yeah. That's the danger.
- I don't...

- Excuse me.
- Not the men

who commit 90 percent of murders,
it's the crazy hysterical women

you gotta worry about!

Yes, yes! Fill my chamber
with your powerful bullets!

Beatrice, look who's back.

And we brought more Horsin' Around.

Oh? Good.

Because you love that BoJack, right?

Well, he's not much of a son, but the
show can be a comfort sometimes.

They were playing your dumb
show in his hospital room.

Which dumb show? New one or old one?

In the episode I saw, you walked
in on your daughter in the shower.

The old one. That episode got us

into the TV Guide "Cheers
and Jeers" column.

We did not get a "Cheers."

You always could play the fool, BoJack.

We have to have this conversation
now, on the way to Dad's funeral?

There was so much
more I wanted to say to him.

Well... you can forget it now.

And since you saw me naked,
that means I get to see you naked!

Something tells
me I'm gonna regret this.

Out of the way, hag, you're
blocking the screen.

Uh-huh.

I know this must be painful for you.

Not painful, boring. This place sucks.

If I'm not getting credit for
coming, what's the point?

If only there was some way for her
to connect the BoJack from the show

with the BoJack who
visits her every week.

- Yeah, too bad we can't. Or can we?
- Can we what?

Put on a live episode of Horsin'
Around in the nursing home.

- Good thinking, Hollyhock.
- Uh...

We'll do a Horsin'
Around here at the home.

She'll love it because
it's her son BoJack.

- Okay...
- Then after the show,

I'll come out and say hello. And
she'll say, "BoJack? Is that you?"

When her eyes spark with recognition,

I'm gonna sit down next to her,
I'm gonna squeeze her hand

and get real close and say...

- "Fuck you, Mom."
- What?

I can finally tell her off!
I'm gonna say, "Look at you",

you old piece of shit,
rotting in a nursing home!"

- Now I have the power!
- That's what you want to say to her?

Oh, it's gonna be great! I can't
wait to see the look on her face.

Okay, let's do this.
Let's put on a show!

- Hey!
- Bad news.

Hear about the mass
shooting outside Tulsa?

Terrible tragedy. Thoughts and prayers.

We really have to do something
about these men who go...

No, P.C. This time it was a woman.

A woman mass shooter? Oh, no,
that really is bad news!

I just think this is what happens
when you give women guns.

They start shooting people with them.

I mean, do they even
know what guns are for?

I don't feel safe anymore walking
down my own street alone at night.

Me, a man!

I am convening a series
of congressional hearings

on the matter of women and guns.

Because even one death from the
bullet of a female gun owner

is too many.

What are my constituents supposed to do,

not compliment random
women on the street

because they might be carrying a gun?

We cannot allow our lives to be
dictated by that kind of fear.

So you see, the trigger was
specifically designed for a man's grip

and a man's temperament.

Look, all I'm saying is

maybe you shouldn't blame
women for wanting guns.

Maybe you should blame the
constant societal messaging

that tells us we are safe only as long
as the men around us allow us to be.

So if you have a problem with
women carrying firearms,

you can roll up your sleeves and
actually work to create a society

where women feel safe and equal,
or you can just ban all guns.

The ayes have it.

Possession of any firearm is now
illegal in the state of California.

We did it, boys.

- Huzzah!
- Yes!

- Congratulations!
- Fabulous!

I thought that was gonna
go the other way.

Wow, Diane. You just passed
sensible gun legislation.

I can't believe this country hates
women more than it loves guns.

No?

BoJack, I don't know about this.

You'll be fine. Just
remember to enunciate.

It helps if you imagine
performing for the back row.

- Not that. I mean...
- Shh! Here they come. Gladys, hit it!

Too bad I could never run for
president, 'cause I love waffling!

Wha... What is this?

Olivia, you usually love
my breakfast humor.

Why so glum, sugarplum?

It's this algebra homework
that gives me the blues.

X-axis? Y-axis?

Where's the 'Y'-should-I-care axis?

Henrietta, what are you doing?

BoJack, maybe we should stop.

We just started. Let's at least
get through the first act

before we judge ourselves
too harshly, huh?

I wonder if there's a
way to make math fun.

Math will never be fun.

The only thing I like,

is rap music songs.

Make this stop. How do I turn this off?

Don't change it. I want to
see if this married couple

can work through their differences.

- Gimme the remote!
- This isn't right!

Guys, sharing is caring!

Oh, my God. Code red, code red!

What is happening? I don't like this!

No!

- Let go of me.
- Oh, God.

I am the heiress to the
Sugarman Sugarcube Company.

You can't do this to me!

I never get to watch what I want.

You think we should still
finish the episode, or...?

Our insurance policy is
very strict and very clear.

Once a resident becomes violent,
we can no longer house them.

Can you recommend another facility?

Frankly, at your mother's
rate of deterioration,

she probably doesn't have much time.

I recommend she spend it surrounded
by the people who care about her.

Okay, who are they? Do
you have their number?

I was referring to you
and your daughter.

- Oh. Uh...
- We'll take her.

She can have the guest room,

and I can sleep on the couch. Right?

Okay. If she really doesn't
have much time left.

But if we get to this time next
year, she's still hanging on,

you will be getting a very
strongly worded letter, mister.

Excuse me, could you point me
in the direction of an H&M?

Sure.

That's all we got, once
we took out all the guns.

Maybe it could work
as an H&M commercial?

It's a shame. It was a great movie.

Yeah. Cut down in
the prime of its life.

Well, I'm very sorry for your loss.

Eh, I'll be fine.

Hey, Beatrice, you hungry?
I could make Pop-Tarts.

No, thank you.

You want to watch another
Horsin' Around episode?

What's the point?

Oh.

Oh, God.

I'm sorry you didn't get
to tell your mom off.

I keep thinking about all
the things I never said

because I was so sure there'd
be other days to say them.

- Why don't you tell her now?
- It's not the same.

I should have done it back
when she knew who I was,

back when it would mean something.

But now, she's gonna die

and she's never gonna know
just how much I hate her.

I'm sure she knew, BoJack.

- Yeah? You're not just saying that?
- She read your book, didn't she?

Yeah, but I really
wanted to say it to her face.

Well, hey, she's here now, right?
And she has good days and bad days.

Maybe, eventually, she'll recognize you.
And then you can totally rip into her.

- You really think so?
- Mm-hmm.

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