Previously on Californication...
- No kiss? - I'm done with that.
You, on the other hand, have been a very naughty little smurf.
Bi-curious, are we?
He started it spanking his assistant. It was very sweet, actually.
I want to learn from you.
- I want to be an agent. - I see.
First, you systematically destroy my marriage...
I know about everything.
... and now you want me to help with your career.
I don't think you heard me. I wrote something.
- Hank wrote a new book? Can I read it? - That's not appropriate.
Can I help you with anything?
I wrote a novel, and I was wondering
- if Charlie would read it. - What's it about?
A 16-year-old girl fucks a much, much older man
and finds herself both spiritually and sexually awakened.
Are you OK?
But I'm working on it.
- This book is gonna be huge. - Are you having second thoughts?
- Are you questioning things? - I question everything.
It's very healthy.
I just think you can't run off and marry a guy
after making sweet love to yours truly.
We had women that loved us for who we were, and we fucked it up.
Ain't life fucking grand?
Subtitles: swsub.com
- You look great, mom. - Thank you, sweetie.
I guess you're going with a more liberal interpretation of the whole
- "white wedding" concept, are you? - You think I could go braless?
Sorry. Didn't know we had a gentleman in our presence.
Only if you go with a more liberal interpretation
of the whole "gentleman" concept.
You know, as exciting as it is to be behind the scenes
in the girls' locker room right before the big game,
- I think I'm going to take my leave. - Shit.
- My dad's coming. - What?
He was supposed to be playing racquetball!
Yes, get that thing off!
The groom shouldn't see you in the dress before the wedding... It's bad luck.
What's worse luck is getting married itself.
Sometimes more... Three out of two.
- You look lovely. - Thank you.
A little uncomfortable coming from you. You know what? Oatmeal.
- Thanks, daddy. - You should've seen the dress
Karen had on just now. I mean, it was like, here...
- Cut it out. - And then the back...
You're home early.
I played Harry Greenberg. I bageled him.
Ironically. You know what?
One day, you and me, Bill Tilden. Mano a mano.
We're gonna play the real tennis. Not that sissy kind. We're going '70s style.
We're playing wooden rackets, knee socks. Plum smugglers.
- But not today because I gotta go. - Dad.
You can't. Remember?
- No. What? - I have to talk to you and mom.
Really? What about, sweetie?
Family stuff.
We're a family. Or we will be very soon, right?
So I should say what I feel? No matter what?
Absolutely. Always.
I want to live with dad.
I'll still visit and stuff.
I want to live most of the time with dad.
It's the first I've heard of this.
Have you thought this through? I mean, have you... Becca.
Then there were two.
I need some help taking off this dress.
And then there was one.
Thank you.
Uncle Runkle.
- Sorry I'm late. I just... - You just what?
Nah. That's all I got.
- I do have some news, though. - Ah! Delight me.
Becca's moving back in with me.
- No shit. - Yeah.
- Poor Karen. She must be... - Devastated.
- That's brutal. - It is. The good news is, though,
as of today you and your extensive porn collection
- are moving in to the Four Seasons. - Fantastic.
I booked you a room in the "husbands who've been kicked out
"by their diminutive lesbian wives" wing.
Right next to the "young actresses fresh into town" wing.
- Correct? - I don't know the layout of the hotel.
Well, that is news. Boy, I'll miss the camaraderie,
but that stain in your bedroom was really starting to unnerve me.
You inspired that stain, you cunning linguist, you.
- It's a talent. - Job well done.
What were you doing in my bedroom, you perv?
Snooping, of course. Looking for some fucking words I can sell.
- Good luck with that. - By the way,
how come you never told me Bill's little Lolita of a daughter was a writer?
'cause I don't use that term loosely.
Writer. Everybody says they're a writer in this town.
I'll give her "budding wordsmith," maybe.
"Budding," huh?
She's fucking bloomed, pal.
Dani's dripping wet over this manuscript of hers.
In fact, she insists that I pump it, launch her agenting career,
or she'll hit me with the mother of all sexual-harassment suits.
Oh, Charlie, I'm sorry.
Can you get me a front-row seat to the trial?
I wanna be behind you in the courtroom sketches.
- You're such a good friend. - What do you want me to say?
- You fuck around with your assistant, you're gonna get screwed.
Only a few things could happen, all of them bad.
You're gonna get threatened, or sued.
You can go for the trifecta and get divorced.
And yet, do I get any credit for all the assistants I didn't fuck?
- No, that's an injustice. - It is.
I get no credit for all the dicks I do not suck.
- Check, please. - Then again, I don't know.
If Mia turns out to really be talented,
I could pump this till I'm blue in the face. No harm no foul.
Am I right?
She might have some talent, from what I've seen,
the little I have seen. What is this thing about?
This coverage makes it sound really fucking hot, you know?
There's this young woman who's banging this older guy,
and at one point, you know, she hauls off
and just punches him right in the face. That's...
pretty ballsy right there, right?
I don't know what else happens, but that's one scene.
- Motherfucker. - What?
"Fucking & Punching."
This is beyond ballsy.
Where are you...
What the fuck?
I guess you didn't hear me knocking.
No. Well, that's why I let myself in... Because I figured
you'd probably be out here in this general vicinity,
unable to hear me knocking.
Out by the pool, kicking it, you know, after school?
Right. Well, school doesn't get out till 3:00.
You need to get on top of that kind of shit, Hank.
Is that universal? 'Cause I was over at Mia's school that day.
It was very progressive, like they didn't adhere
- to that kind of strict. - There's no one here.
I'm all on my own in my big, empty house,
just like I will be when you take my daughter away from me.
Come on. I had nothing to do with that.
- Really? You didn't put her up to it? - Of course not. Why would I do that?
I don't know. To embarrass me. To score some big fucking victory over Bill.
- No, I wouldn't do that. - Your usual shit.
No, no, no. I wouldn't do that.
So she came up with it all by herself, out of the blue?
The system that's been working since we split up,
doesn't work anymore? "I wanna live with dad?
- "I don't wanna live with mom?" - She's a teenager.
The word you're looking for is "mercurial."
No, I'm not looking for.
And I would never fuck with her head like that.
Yours, yes. I can be a dick sometimes.
But hers, never. Not in a million years.
- Well, okay. - What do you mean, "okay"?
I mean, "okay, I believe you." But it's not gonna make any difference.
It doesn't make it any easier for me.
But if you think about it in practical terms, it means
2 extra nights a week, right?
- I mean, it's not a big... - No. Don't, okay? Don't do that.
I don't need your fucking sympathy, Hank, okay?
Get out of my house, 'cause I don't want to see you right now!
Where's Ilsa, she-wolf of the SS?
Excuse me?
- Dani. Where's Dani? - She's in a meeting with Mr. Runkle.
- And you are? - Going in there.
- I'm sorry, sir. - Look at the time. The big hand
says "fuck" and the little one says "off."
All right, I need to talk to you, and you,
and you need to get out, and you...
You, I don't need to talk to, but I know you.
Hello, Victoria.
Well, so formal.
"Tricky Vicky" he used to call me back in the day.
Where the hell have you been, Hank Moody?
Don't you owe me a book since the good guy is in office?
It's been 7 years, thanks. It's coming along swimmingly.
Spell-checking as we speak. I need to have a chat with you.
- I'm in the middle of a meeting. - I can see that. It won't take long.
Hank, do you think you two could do this a little bit later?
Like after the meeting that Victoria flew in from New York for?
We should straighten it out now.
We have a bunch more set up for later. We don't want them to stack up.
- I can handle this. - Well, handle it, then.
Looks like you've got a live one there, Runkle.
Hank, have a seat. We can talk about "chinese democracy" as soon as
I'm done talking with the publishing sensation.
I don't know if you're aware, but this young woman's written
- what could be the book of the year. - Is that right?
Have I ever been wrong about this shit? It's fantastic.
It's like your early stuff. Not so juvenile.
Not so many lame boner jokes.
Coincidentally, I have a lame boner right now.
I have a lame boner for justice.
And if you won't give me a private sidebar right now,
maybe there's something you'd like to tell these good people?
I don't know. What might they be interested in hearing?
Come on, Mia. Just... Just out with it.
Oh... Wait.
I know what I could say.
Thank you, Hank.
Thank you for giving me notes and helping me with this.
It's been a dream come true,
really to have your favorite writer in the whole wide world
help you on your very first...
- ... novel. - Hank, you're so sweet.
That's it? That's the way you want to play it?
What do you want me to do, blow you? I mean, that would be untoward.
My God, look at the potty mouth on this one.
I love it.
She'd be great with the press, right? Like Elizabeth Wurtzel... With talent.
Okay, Hank. Let's go.
Thank you ever so kindly.
So you had your fun and then you told them the truth, right?
Told them what, Hank?
You know, I think I'd appreciate your particular brand of humor
a lot more if you weren't fucking around with my life.
And you haven't fucked around in mine at all?
I mean, I know it was an accident. How could you possibly have known?
The fact remains you fucked me and you didn't wanna have
anything to do with me. Ladies don't like it.
So this is your revenge? You're some kind of feminist caped crusader?
Yeah, well, we all pay for our sins sooner or later, Hank.
Thank you... How'd you get ahold of it?
Well, it was just sitting there all unappreciated and shit,
- and I asked Karen if I could read it. - And she said "no."
Exactly. She was afraid that I would get corrupted in some way.
- I'm sure. - Oh, man.
I wonder what'd she think if she knew I had your dick in my mouth.
But I digress. Anyway, I took it to Kinko's
and settled in for what was truly a great read. It's so good, Hank.
A really great first draft.
You're gonna get caught, you know. People are gonna recognize my writing.
No, see, I covered my tracks.
I added little bits of me when I re-typed it.
It's not really so much an outright theft as a mash-up.
An homage, if you will. From me to you.
You are a very young...
Sociopath-in-training.
Oh, come on.
That's like Satan calling one of his junior minions "a big meanie."
Yes, but I never set out to hurt you, Mia.
What else is out there for me? College, going to Europe, working at an agency,
a network, a studio?
Boring! This has been fun.
I never intended to be famous,
but I do like being the center of attention.
It feels just like I thought it would...
Totally fucking great.
But it's gonna go away.
Well, we just got offers from Victoria Newsome and Little Brown,
but I think Random House is gonna blow them out of the water.
Random House?
I didn't even know... I miss these calls? I didn't see messages.
No, I didn't think it was worth bothering you about.
- Some Kahlúa with your coffee? - We seem to be all out of champagne.
I think the TV people drank it all when they sold "Slut Wars" into syndication.
No, thank you.
Don't mind if I do.
It's been a great ride, Charlie Runkle.
We proved sex and the workplace can mix.
We subverted some dominant paradigms.
And from a feminist standpoint, we're about to launch a major female writer.
She was great, wasn't she? I mean, she was poised, she was funny...
She had them eating out of her hand and looking up her skirt at the same time.
Yeah, that is quite a feat.
The girl's gonna sell 5 million copies based on the jacket photo alone.
And did you see how completely unfazed she was by Hank?
I mean, no offense, he's a cool guy, but it was kind of pathetic, right?
Dani, I actually have a little bit of a headache.
- I'm gonna lie down here for a while. - Okay.
You rest, I'll take the calls.
So, here's the last of your t-shirts.
Thanks.
You know, you can always bring your stuff home,
for me to wash on the weekends or whenever.
I know.
'cause your dad, you know, he'll probably just buy you new clothes
when the old ones get dirty. That would be his solution...
I know.
You know...
Yeah.
Shit!
You're not taking everything, are you?
No. Just the essentials.
I'm gonna let you guys... Give her a hand, yeah?
- Mom? - Yeah?
You and me...
I was thinking next Saturday we could go to the getty.
Just us.
That'd be great. I'd love that, sweetie.
And so it begins. The non-custodial parent time.
Not the dark side of the moon. I might want to borrow that one.
- It's way too small for you. - Yeah. That's why I like it.
Whatever.
Hey, I was just teasing.
That's what sisters do, you know?
They borrow clothes, talk about boys,
conspire against the parental units...
It's not gonna be any fun here without you.
Was it fun before?
True.
But you won't have that problem anymore living with your dad.
Sure. It'll be a hoot.
Like taking Kafka to the Third Street Promenade.
You're not even excited a little bit?
- I suppose. - Well, shit, I would be stoked.
'cause your dad, I mean, he's a riot.
He's totally awesome.
I'm not going to live with my dad because it's fun.
I'm going because I have to.
I don't know if you've noticed,
- but your dad is about to marry my mom. - Yeah, so?
So it's really happening.
He can't pretend anymore that it's not.
And whatever miraculous thing he thought would happen with the writing...
You know, that thing he wrote back home in New York
that would be the redemption of us all?
Well, obviously, that's not happening, either.
Yeah, I guess not.
So it's official.
Rock bottom.
The death of hope.
Can't leave him alone now.
The man's got nothing.
Well, that's not entirely true.
He's got you.
We should all be so lucky.
Loved your new novel.
I knew from the first page.
Strange, too. It was like 1987.
I went to a party with Bret E. Ellis.
I asked him who the good young writers were.
He showed me that short story of yours. I had the same feeling when I read it.
Like this person and I are connected somehow.
Like we were gonna do something special together.
Well, I'm just overjoyed that you saw me in there somewhere.
You're all over it, pal.
But, listen, I got to ask, you know,
since you always tend to write exactly what you know...
What's the fucking deal?
You have done some fucked-up shit in your time, but...
I didn't think you'd do that.
Not knowingly.
She tricked you into it? I find that hard to believe.
She was at a book store, and she was reading my book.
That's always a great conversation starter for me,
and she was cute and flirty, I was half in the bag...
I was just right for that moment.
The self-loathing was strong in me that night.
I didn't know she was Bill's daughter,
and I thought she was in college. You know, maybe older.
I was wrong.
Jesus Christ.
How'd we get ourselves into this one?
Thank you for saying "we."
I'll do whatever you want me to do, you know?
I'll take it off the counter, you say the word.
Are there offers?
- Many. - Well, then I'm fucked.
If I say anything, if I do anything about this shit,
there's no telling what she's gonna do.
There's no stopping her from telling Karen or Bill,
- or Becca. - Fuck. The police.
Fuck the police.
Expecting someone?
Wait.
Let me get that.
- Good evening, ladies. - Hey.
I should get going. Call me later?
- I will. - Four seasons.
- Good night. - Night.
- I'm gonna go put my stuff down. - Sure.
I'm sorry.
About what?
You won.
Not if you're this upset. I didn't win a goddamn thing.
I hate seeing you this sad.
Ever.
Except maybe after sex with Bill.
That's a smile. A small smile, but a smile nonetheless.
I'll take it.
- Don't worry, mom. I'll be fine. - I know.
And it's not you I'm worried about.
I know.
But first of all, this is not goodbye.
Just think of it as me on the road with the band,
playing a few out-of-town gigs.
Plus, you get a break from my noisy guitar.
Yeah, but I love your noisy guitar.
I would say "take care of her," but I think
she's probably gonna take better care of you.
I don't disagree.
Call me if you need anything, okay?
Anything at all.
I love you, honey.
I love you, too.
She's highly emotional, that one.
All the good ones are.
In exchange, they've given their word they will only fight
Al-Qaeda.
Take a picture. It'll last longer.
Are you okay?
- You seem depressed. - You mean like more than usual?
Yes.
I sense these things.
Oh, yeah?
I'm peachy.
Trust me.
Hey, Bill?
Hey, honey. Bill?