Previously...
-What do you do in the real world? -I traverse the globe with musicians.
-You're a groupie. -Muse would be more applicable.
-Men have written songs about me. -I can see why.
Do you want to get high? Have anything to roll with?
-"The Good Book". -I feel so bad!
-I need to hit the road. -This is fate.
Tiny said that you had an uncanny ability
to suck killer riffs out of him.
-I was a very good Catholic schoolgirl. -Are you trying to turn me on?
My parents hit me pretty hard once upon a time.
I played at this stupid church social. My mom said that I looked like a slut.
-Me thinks you like this one. -She likes him.
-You have a real connection. -It could be a real thing.
I have big news. Tonight I am making love to a woman.
Karen, this is bullshit. He poops on people.
That woman is amazing.
I've summoned you both to dinner because I have news.
-Jesus Christ! -Why do you go there so quickly?
It's always disgusting, stomach-churning awful news.
Could you let her speak first? Please. I'm sorry. Go ahead.
-So I've decided... -To go back to school!
Of course you have. Up high. Someone. Anyone.
I've decided to go abroad for an indeterminate amount of time.
-Why? -I hate L.A.
I agree, but go back to school, graduate, and then you can go abroad.
I want to follow in the footsteps of my favorite expatriate writers.
-Burroughs, Paul Bowles, Henry Miller. -That's wonderful!
The only thing that makes you a writer is gluing your ass in a seat
and getting what's inside your head out on the paper.
Everything else is a pose. You can expat yourself on the back
and go "pilgrimate" after you're had some success.
Why can't I do both? It just seems so romantic.
That's just it. Things that seem romantic very rarely are.
-Ain't that the truth. -Don't get all loaded with me.
-Another good talk. -No, sweetie. I love the idea.
We can get through all this muck and mire
if we engage in a therapeutic hate-fucking.
Fine. I'm not sure I'd be into it even if you were.
-Because you're sullied... and shit. -You love that shit.
No, you're all soiled... And shit.
Sullied... Shit.
CALIFORNICATION Season VI, episode 10
Hi!
-How are you? -How's it going?
-Is this a bad time? -No, of course not.
This is Beckett. This is Hank Moody.
-He's a writer and a drinker. -Thank you.
He's working on that musical with your brother.
I hope that spoiled little Ginger is treating you all right.
He's sweet. I got to slap him upside the head every now and then...
-Or give him a titty twister. -Don't I know it.
Beckett just got off the road.
Faith's been kind enough to house-sit for me while I've been gone.
-And I get kicked to the curb. -I met a model in Australia.
So she's moving in. Who knows? She might even be the one.
-Good luck with that. -You got to keep trying.
You're not gonna let me make an honest groupie out of you.
You never asked.
Does Atticus know about this special little friendship?
-Fuck, no. -God, no. His head would explode.
Which would fuck up that fabulous weave he's got going.
-I like this guy. -He's okay.
-You okay? -Yeah. Why?
-You got the bum's rush back there. -Comes with the territory.
Guy goes on tour, he's gonna come back with something... Or someone.
I don't need your pity.
I will retract it, and you will see neither hide nor hair of it ever again.
Thank you.
-But how do you live? -What do you mean?
You don't work. You kind of...
-Float? -Yeah.
Yes, I do. And I like it that way.
-Your beers. -Thank you.
Things have a way of working out.
-Men have been especially kind to me. -Understandably so. But what is next?
I think we should keep drinking. Something will suggest itself.
That's what my mom always used to say. You can crash at Charlie's.
But where would I sleep?
What?
-Telemarketers? -My mother. She's a bit of a cunt.
She takes the warm and fuzzy out of "cunt".
I'm gonna steal that. One day I will use that.
Be my guest. I guarantee you she wants me to come home.
-Moms are good like that. -It's always a fucking disaster.
-She doesn't approve of the lifestyle. -How long's it been.
I've been with the circus a while. So let's just say it's been a spell.
If you want some advice from me...
You should go visit 'em. What's the harm? Throw 'em a bone.
-Okay. I'll go if you go. -What?
It'll be awesome bringing home a relatively normal boyfriend type.
-Thank you. Gee, thanks. -You are better at passing for normal.
-Do I have to get on a plane? -Nope. Just the 405.
-Let's do it. -Pretty sweet, huh?
I know this place. I grew up in this place.
It was about 3 000 miles away, though.
Driving fast into a wall is looking pretty appealing.
-It's time to face the muzak. -Too late.
-Faith? Is that you? -Hey, mom.
I've been leaving messages.
I thought I would surprise you. So... surprise!
-I'm surprised. -Surprise.
Look at you.
-Say it! -What?
-Say it, and then we can move on. -Okay, you look like a slut.
Thank you, mom. Mission accomplished.
-Who's your friend? -Hi, Mrs. Faith's mom.
-This is Hank Moody, Mom. -Hank the hugger.
-That's what we call him. -Is he your boyfriend?
"Frenemy", really.
Where's all the tattoos and the long, filthy hair?
In the car. I was trying to make a good impression.
You can help me with the groceries.
Jack, where are you? I've got a surprise.
You didn't tell me you grew up in a religious supply store.
That's why I'm such a slut.
Jack, guess what. Faith's here.
He's watching TV. What else would he be doing?
Jesus Christ! What are you doing?
-What? -You're watching nasty movies?
This one caught my eye.
Of course, it's naked women. Surprised you're not touching yourself.
-Who else is going to? -Watch your mouth! Faith is here.
-Why didn't you tell me? -Turn that off before she gets in here!
-Faith... -Dad.
-Who's this clown? -Hank Moody. Nice to meet you.
-Where's the tattoo and long hair? -It would appear you have a type.
-You staying for dinner? -Why not?
Will you run to the liquor store and get me some booze?
Your mother refuses to buy it for me. She thinks I drink too much.
-She's probably right. -Wouldn't you?
-You like to drink? -Does the Pope shit in the woods?
That woman will burn you at the stake for talking like that.
What was that for? No, don't tell me. Do it again.
-What was that for? -For encouraging me to come.
I always encourage women to come.
It does not always happen, but I like to think that I'm encouraging.
Classy.
Faith? Is that you? My God, it is you!
Holy shit. You look fucking amazing!
-Thanks. You too. -Shannon Mitchell.
-No, of course. Shannon. Hi. -I look like a fucking fat pig.
-Stop. This is amazing. You're first? -I wish, dude. My third.
-Is that your husband? -No.
-God, no. -Fiance. Charles Wolfgang Runkle.
Nice to meet you.
-Congrats. -Thank you.
I never thought you'd have a fiance.
I heard you were slutting around, fucking a bunch of rock dudes.
Somebody said they saw you in a music video, or on a sex tape.
-What's the difference? -Don't believe everything you hear.
This girl used to be quiet as a mouse.
Always had her face buried in some book. And then one day she exploded.
She got super hot and fucked everyone.
-Good for you, honey. -That's not entirely true.
-She fucked my husband, even. -Really? Did I?
Larry Walters. Remember, you fucked Larry Walters?
I vaguely, yeah.
He played guitar for Mysstery, two "s"s.
He sure remembers you.
Larry. Dude, get your ass over here. It's Faith from American Martyrs.
-Faith. Holy shit! -Larry... Looking good.
This is so awesome. So fucking abso... it just is.
How's your mom and dad?
I bet they're so happy to see you, 'cause you never come home, ever.
Your mom tries to tell everyone that you joined the Peace Corps,
which is funny, 'cause we all know that you just hopped
on a rock-and-roll tour bus and never looked back.
I guess maybe she's embarrassed about all that stuff that...
-What happened? -Another story for another day.
We should get together... Grab a drink.
-Yeah, we should. -We should.
You shouldn't be drinking.
Spritzers don't hurt, little puff of weed every now and then.
They try to tell you it hurts the baby. It don't.
-The fetus might disagree with you. -He's fine. He's seen a lot.
-What? -Look at that.
-We should take this together. -Your phone's not ringing.
-I have it on silent. -There's nothing on the screen.
-It's on vibrate. -You're shaking your phone.
-Guess what. I have bell's palsy. -Sorry.
-Great seeing you. Bye, Larry. -You too. See you soon, hopefully.
-Stop staring, you fat fuck. -I totally fucked her.
-Mom, thank you. This looks amazing. -Who wants to say grace?
Let's take a break from mumbling over our food before we eat.
You've got an audience? What, you're showing off?
I grew up in a house where we closed our eyes and mumbled every meal.
-I'm good with it. -Come on, Dad.
Bless us, Lord, for these, thy gifts, for which we are about to receive
from thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord.
Amen.
And... Dear Lord, thank you so much
for bringing our daughter Faith home to us
and watching over her while she's been out whoring with the devil's children
and protecting her and keeping her from harm
and keeping her from sexually transmitted diseases.
-Through Jesus' name we pray. -Amen.
So... that happened.
-So how did you two meet? -It's a funny story, actually.
I wasn't feeling very well about myself at the time,
and I ended up at...
-What, a church? -It's a church-like place.
-They talked a lot about God. -They did.
-Anyway, there she was. -I was feeling pretty lousy myself.
Faith, I'm so glad you're still talking to him.
Yeah, me too. So this one over here was pretty annoying.
-I was annoying? -He went out of his way.
We actually bonded over a page of the old testament.
How wonderful. Faith knows her Bible backwards and forwards.
-She inhales her Bible. -All true.
She made me feel a lot better about myself at the time.
Does this mean you're turning over a new leaf, sweetheart?
What what does that mean?
It sounds like you're no longer degrading yourself
by hanging out with those perverted musicians all the time.
Some of those perverted musicians have written songs about her.
-After she sucked their filthy penises. -Why do you assume they're filthy?
And what's so bad about a blow job between friends?
-Men love it when you suck their dicks. -Amen, huh?
-What? -Watch yourself.
I agree with Mrs. Faith's mom. I find penises unilaterally disgusting.
Can we talk about something other that penises? Filthy or otherwise?
-You like sports? -No, I know you're gonna deduct points.
But I'm a huge fan of your daughter. I think she's amazing.
-You should be very proud. -I'll drink to that.
We were very proud when she dedicated her life to him and...
-Who? -Him.
Him. That guy. Of course. What did that entail?
Can we just not?
But then she abandoned him and kind of humiliated our family.
How many times I can say I'm sorry?
Green beans?
-He forgives all of his children. -Good to know.
-Unfortunately, I have not. -There it is. Shocker.
In spite of your limitations and you're mean-spirited bullshit...
-I love you, I forgive you. -You forgive me?
She didn't want to become a nun! What's wrong with that?
-What kind of life is that? -Excuse me.
Mary...
Thanks, Dad.
Why do you got to get her all worked up over this?
You know this is gonna happen. You don't come and visit,
and when you do, we always end up talking about the same thing.
Why can't we have dinner and talk about the fucking weather?
-You were a nun? -Kind of gross.
It would be if you were one of those wrinkly old war horses. It's hot.
I know it was a little extreme,
but I have been looking for something
bigger than myself my whole life.
For a while, it was really nice.
-But I just couldn't live that way. -I understand.
The nunnery's loss is humanity's gain.
The sisters caught me getting off once,
which was hugely, hugely embarrassing.
They told you not to make a habit of it.
The funny thing is, I'm still looking, searching. I still believe.
It's all connected somehow, even sex and God and rock and roll.
I have this recurring dream about church and a nun.
-And what happens in such a dream? -I come in filled with angst.
And I want have a conversation with the guy up on the wall.
This nun shows up. She's very pleasant, agreeable.
-How does it end? -In a very blasphemous manner.
Eyes up here, you.
Who says dreams don't come true?
Faith? Do me a favor. Go apologize to your mother.
She's been crying and praying since you left.
-Come on! -Please?
She's out of her mind, but she's your mother.
All right.
Hank, grab a seat.
-Want a beer? -Don't mind if I do.
Here you go.
You got kids?
One daughter, from a previous romantic entanglement.
-Daughters are the fucking worst. -Tell me about it.
I got two. One's gonna end up just like her mother,
and the other one looking for God in the back of a tour bus.
Is that how you feel about her? I feel sorry for you.
Then feel sorry for me. I don't really know her anymore.
She's pretty great. I think you'd be surprised.
I was so happy when she got into all that Jesus stuff.
As a father, you worry about all those dirtbags out there.
And I thought: "she'll be safe".
That's generally how I feel about my daughter.
I secretly hope that she's a lesbian. It's not very secret.
I say it every chance I get.
-You're a weird fucking guy. -Pretty much.
If I had it to do all over again, I'd encourage her every whim.
I'd say yes instead of no. I'd laugh instead of yell.
This house was too strict. She must have felt like a rat in a cage.
Between me and her mother, she couldn't do anything right.
People do strange things when they're judged all the time,
instead of just being loved.
Cheers.
I'm still shocked you haven't turned this into a sewing room.
Too many memories of the little girl I used to know.
-It's all I have left. -Don't be so dramatic, please.
-I'm sorry... -I'm sorry too.
There were a lot of nasty things that came flying out of my mouth.
-I don't know why I always do that. -Old habits, I guess.
-We would like to see you more often. -Can you be happy that I'm here now?
We may not be around forever, and your father really misses you.
Is he okay?
He's a raging alcoholic but other than that, he's fine.
And you? Are you trying to tell me something?
-What a beautiful cross. -Thanks.
-It was a present from a special guy. -Of course. There's always a guy.
Sorry to interrupt, your dad started watching soft-core pornography.
-I got uncomfortable. -What a poor, lost soul.
I guess you two are tired and maybe a little drunk.
I can smell it on both of you. It's kind of hideous. Good night.
- No! You are going to the couch. -Come on!
Do I see a ring on that finger? Are you married?
Otherwise, you're not gonna sleep together in that bed.
Not under this roof. No good can come of that.
Greetings and salutations, sire. I guess it's been kind of a while.
But you're looking well... Ripped as ever, I see.
-Sorry. -Whatever for, child?
I guess I went out for a pack of smokes and never came back.
-I left you hanging up there. -What can I do for you, Faith?
I miss you. I need you, especially right now.
I'm having what you might call a crisis of faith, if you will.
Pray with me.
Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.
Really? You think?
There's no need to get your loincloth in a bunch up there.
You're forgetting something.
Jesus loves you.
I thought you were waking me up to fuck me.
I thought about it. But then the urge to flee won out.
-You okay? -"Drive", she said.
-Hey. -Hello.
I think we should let her go... abroad.
-I was already thinking that. -Of course you were...
Because you're an exceptional parent.
I'm too busy spouting off at the mouth without thinking.
Our daughter wants to go on a literary pilgrimage.
Who the fuck does that in this day and age, right?
What malignant asshole wouldn't indulge that sort of behavior?
-However asinine? -My thoughts exactly.
-We're in agreement on something? -It looks like it.
-That's a minor miracle, isn't it? -You go in and tell her yourself?
We'll tell her together.
CALIFORNICATION