Previously on Californication...
I have decided to go abroad, for an indeterminate amount of time.
I want to make a literary pilgrimage.
Watching her go, it kind of feels like the end of something.
She was the only thing that was still keeping us together?
-We're gettin' married. -The Runkles!
I now pronounce you wife and early man.
What the fuck?
I told you I never wanna see his ass on one of my sets ever again.
This is a producer-driven medium, you ineffectual little shit bird.
Shut up!
I was just thinking about what I want for all the people in my life.
And I realized that I want you to be happy.
I wanna see you smile.
Hank has to go. He's gotta see a horse about a girl.
So this is about following your bliss? Is this about love?
-It is. -Then you must go.
Go and get her, pal!
-Karen, hello. -What are you doing here?
I thought you ran off with the rock and roll circus.
I did. But I came back for you.
Karen! Hello.
I thought you ran off with a rock and roll circus.
I did, but I came back for you.
I know it's overwhelming, disorienting even.
I couldn't be out there knowing that you were back here by yourself.
Getting older, by the way. Karen, I love you.
I have always loved you, and I will always love you.
But we need to resolve this shit.
-Wouldn't you agree? -Sure, but...
We gotta roll up our sleeves and do the work right now.
I say we stay here until we figure it out,
or until we both get so fuckin' horny we can't stand it.
Either way, it's a win-win for both of us.
-Hello. -Dude, absolutely not.
We are not sharing our table. What are you, European?
-I'm sorry, should... -No.
-I'm really sorry. This is... -What is this?
Explain yourself, woman.
Hank, this is Chris. He's in my yoga class.
-And this is Hank. He's... -He is?
-From my life. -Yoga class?
That fuckin' old chestnut? Karen, please, come on.
-I'm sorry. -You should be.
What are we talking about here? Bikram?
Who has time to make time during Bikram? It's so hot, farty in there.
It's hard not to let a little prairie dog run in through there?
-Why don't we do this another time? -Now there's an idea.
-I'm sorry. -Don't be.
-I know where to find you. -Stalker.
-Really nice to meet you, Hank. -Pleasure was all mine, yoga man.
Namaste away, buddy boy.
This is what makes us fantastic. We're laughing about that creeper.
What are you talking about? He's totally hot.
Westside yoga guy? That is the oldest schtick in the book, Karen.
His cum probably tastes like hummus.
-Cummus. -My God!
This is not going as I had hoped.
CALIFORNICATION Season VII, episode 73
I thought I would find you here. One pear Cosmo-Tini, please.
He's not kidding. And he's not gay anymore, entirely.
-I came back for her, Charlie. -Atticus told me all about it.
I threw my heart at her feet. And what did she give me in return?
A shit sandwich to chew on. But enough of my harrowing despair.
Tell me about your honeymoon. Did you fuck each other's faces off?
Never mind all that. I got news.
Another gnarly skin tag has sprouted up on the other side
of that hideous little pouch you like to call a scrotum.
-That, and Atticus just fired me. -Bummer.
-But not before he fired you too. -That cunty little ginger loves me.
-He was incredibly moved by my quest. -And then he got incredibly bored.
And your absence made him grow a hell of a lot fonder of Aaron Sorkin.
Bringing your Broadway career to a sudden screeching halt.
Okay, well, what now? I'm waitin'. Go on. Say it.
-That ?! I won't say that. -Come on. Make me happy.
It would be irresponsible of me. I do not have an offer for you.
That's not entirely true. Some kid keeps emailing me
about wanting to interview you for his college newspaper.
-I need a fuckin' job. -Yeah, so do I.
I need to present myself to Karen as an adult male with a job.
You're sweet. And totally naive.
There are no jobs, not anymore. Why, you don't ask?
Because you have pissed on and pissed off
anyone and everyone who's ever given you one.
You have taken a shit on all of it. Books, movies, theater...
What about television? I could shit on that.
-You don't even watch television. -Doesn't mean I can't write it.
-What are we gonna do, Hank? -It's all right, baby boy.
Tonight we drink. Tomorrow you start making some phone calls.
An opportunity will present itself. If not, we can stuff our pockets
full with rocks and walk hand-in-hand into the pacific.
-That sounds romantic. -I wanna hear about your honeymoon.
Did you give your aging bride a kidney infection?
No, really? Okay. Talk to me, buddy boy.
Tell me all your woes. Dr. Hanxtable is most definitely in.
-Where's my bride? -Marcy Runkle!
-My beautiful bride -Cokey smurf.
Are you serious right now?
This is just what we need, Charlie, a bad case of whiskey dick.
Don't worry about it, Marce.
Dude's been slamming pear Cosmo-Tinis all night long.
I'm gonna fuck you so hard, Marcy.
Let's not write any checks your limp biscuit can't cash!
Be gentle with the boy.
I impulse remarried a depraved lunatic who can't even get it up for me.
It's not good. I'm sorry, Marcy, you deserve better.
-Yeah, I do. I do. -Bring it in. Take a knee.
You guys gotta get this shit in perspective, okay?
I came back for the love of my life and she rejected me,
which bums me out on many levels.
Not the least of which is that you fucktards got your shit together.
You're letting your pasty cone head get in the way of the prime directive.
Yours is to seek and destroy her shimmering snatch.
-Don't be fuckin' with her elf-esteem. -Thanks, Hanky.
And she's got the magic vagina. You know you want it.
I do want it. I'm gonna fuck your face off, Marcy.
You're gonna fuckin' be seeing fuckin' stars.
Let's see if we can get some blood flowin' to that thin wang of yours.
Yes, baby. Hank, stay. You're not coming!
Whaaat... can I do for you?
-Settle down. Are you Charlie Runkle? -Who's askin'?
My name's Levon. I've been emailing you about Hank Moody.
Don't know what you're talking about.
-I sent you 20 emails. -Who told you where I live?
The Internet told me. You got a pretty retarded name.
-You got the wrong Runkle. -You're lying.
That's you. You're the masturbating agent.
-If Hank's into it, I'll be in touch. -No, come on, man, can I meet him?
-No, that's impossible. -Please.
How a brother supposed to get some beauty sleep here?
-That's him. You're him. -Who?
-You're Hank Moody. -Hank Moody I must be.
-Who you be? -This would be Levon.
He wants to interview you for his college newspaper.
I didn't tell you to set that up.
You lying masturbating asshole. You did get my emails.
I like this kid. Levon? Pretty groovy. Your parents big Elton John fans?
-My mother. -Must have good taste.
That's debatable.
-Are you okay with whatever this is? -Yeah, it's fine.
Levon, you got 15 minutes. I want you out of here before I wake up.
-Now, what do you want to talk about? -Where were you born?
You want to go way back. I was born and bred in the Bronx,
but my parents moved to raise me like veal on the island of long,
which ultimately inspired me to escape back to the big, bad wilds of the city
as soon as I was vaguely able.
-How many girlfriends have you had? -A few?
-How many significant relationships? -What, you writing my obituary?
Do you consider yourself a misogynist?
Not really. I'm a big fan of "Womaninity".
I like it all... Big, fat, tall, short, small,
white, black, yellow, purple... Big fan of lady-ness.
-I've read your books. -And?
-Do you have any children? -Yeah, one, a daughter.
Does she think that you are a good father?
Do you think that you're a good interviewer?
How many hearts have you broken in your life?
Do you have a problem with me? Did I fuck your girlfriend?
Hank, you were right!
A new day has dawned, and the opportunity has presented itself.
We got ourselves a meeting. I'll tell you on the way.
You, kid, outta here!
Can I come with you? It might be good for the article.
-You know what? We'll "re-shedule." -Really great start today! Bye!
Don't come off as one of those fucks who looks down on television.
-Me? Never. -How is it?
It's like a colonoscopy of the mind.
But if he asks, I will tell him it's "Totes fuckin' brill."
Good boy. It's weird seeing you like this. All driven and shit.
Funny how these things come full circle.
When people are truly connected they can never truly escape each other.
-Speaking of which, how's Marcy? -Good. Great.
Just back from the honeymoon.
Gosh, Runkle, you know how to kick a guy when he's down.
I know exactly what that woman is like on a honeymoon.
Our magnificent sex organs were fused ten days straight.
I couldn't stand not being inside of her.
I walked around the hotel room and... Right there on my jock.
Steady, Runks.
-Nice to see you. How you doing? -I'm great, Moody.
Last we met, I was directing Santa Monica Cop the movie,
now I'm peripherally involved with Santa Monica Cop the TV show.
-So things are going really well. -Where'd you go wrong?
I recall things going to shit around the time you showed up.
The very idea.
Let us not rehash ancient history.
Sam went off the rails, they shut the picture down,
my beloved wife divorced me. but did I wallow?
Then I picked myself the fuck up, I dusted myself off,
and I sold that messy, late-term abortion as a TV pilot.
Because that is what a producer does.
He takes a sudden burst of rain and turns it into a golden shower.
Quiet.
Writers start talking shit about you the second you leave the room.
I want to know whose option not to pick up when the time comes.
Rosenberg. You fuckin' dick. You'll get yours. Very nice!
Try paying for private school next year with no job.
-You must be Hank. -Henry James moody the first.
Rick Rath. Call me Rath.
-Why are you here? -I'm his agent.
He likes to make sure I don't use my feces as a crayon.
Take a walk. You guys too. Get out. Leave us alone. Talent only.
-Guy's a monster. -Leave us alone. Talent only.
I'm not gonna hire you, Hank.
You don't even want to hear what I think about the script?
I had a whole speech prepared followed by a PowerPoint presentation
and a brief but very moving puppet show.
Stu had asked me to sit down with you, I admit I was intrigued,
but then I did my due diligence.
Every single person I reached out to said you are an absolute nightmare.
The last thing I need is some fuck who's gonna look down on television.
But you do need a writer who can write, right?
Talent's always a plus, but life is too short for shenanigans.
I'm too old to be babysitting toddlers with toxic personalities.
Hang on and hear me out!
You got a room full of hacks and wannabes in there.
The hacks give you a safe, fear-driven mediocrity
and the wannabes wanna be because the lifestyle looks so swell.
That's an incredibly cynical generalization.
I have the sexy, energetic brain of a newbie
and the body of a drunken, old hack.
You shit the bed all over this town. Why would this gig be any different?
And I have squandered a lot of opportunities.
I could blame it on my masturbating agent or I could chalk it up
to fear and self-loathing in Los Angeles, but the truth is that...
I'm trying to grow the fuck up for once.
I'm on a quest to reclaim the best parts of myself before it's too late.
And it all starts with me getting a job.
That's very inspiring, but are you sure you can handle the job?
Yeah.
-Can you show up on time? -Yeah.
-Play nice with others? -Maybe. Yeah.
Can you take a no without getting defensive?
Possibly.
Can you work with actors without fucking them or punching them?
You have read my work!
It reminds me of some of the shit I used to write.
Once upon a time, back in New York.
Before all of this shit swallowed me whole.
I'm a sucker for a good redemption story,
but I am suspicious of your motives.
I guess you could say it's about a girl.
Rosenberg's doing his impression of you again.
-Think he's trying to stage a coup. -Motherfucker.
I'd give the fucker a tittie twister. Thank you for seeing me.
Sit. You stay. I'm not guaranteeing anything,
but I might have an open seat in about 45 seconds.
I got eyes and ears all over this fucking building, scumbags.
To be perfectly honest, I'm just... I'm feeling a little bit nervous.
Can we just not be such a fucking girl, Charlie?
This is just me. It's just me. Your sexy, little fuck ninja.
-What? -Nothing.
Seems like something Stu would call you. I'm sorry.
It probably is. Among other things. And I'm sorry, baby.
-Things happened so fast between us. -Maybe we just made a mistake.
No retreat, no surrender. I am not ready to call this shit yet.
Okay? Gimme kissy. Gimme more.
Not so fast, okay? You know, it's a little... handsy.
Why don't you just let mommy work her mommy magic?
Okay. Yes, please, mommy.
Don't actually call me mommy, because that's fucking creepy.
My bad.
It's not working, Marcy.
-My God! Stop it! -I want to feel something!
No! Be nice to my penis! Stop!
-It's so upsetting, Marcy. -I know, baby. I get it.
But just breathe. You gotta relax. Just breathe.
Let me go down on you. Yes, Marcy! I insist, okay?
I'm gonna go down on you because I need to feel like a man tonight!
So munching my box has become all about you?
-You're such a fucking narcissist. -I need to go down on you, Marcy!
Fine. Go ahead.
Okay.
My God, Charlie. If you're gonna eat me out you can't cry.
I'm sorry.
-Yeah, papi, get it. -Is that good?
I don't want you to think I am European or anything,
but maybe I could share your table?
I'm sorry, mademoiselle,
but I'm meeting somebody from my Pilates class.
He can suck himself off and clip his toenails at the same time.
-Getting to know each other. -I'm not involved with anyone.
That's good to know. Me neither. I'm kidding about the Pilates guy.
Good to know.
-What are you doing here? -I'm meeting this kid.
He's gonna interview me for a college newspaper.
Has it come to that?
You remember that nice lady from the New York Times
who wrote that nice profile on me all those years ago?
-The one with the ample bosom. -She did have an ample bosom.
I didn't sample that ample bosom because I loved you so much then.
Because you're an incredible human being, Hank Moody.
Finally you speak the truth.
-I'm sorry about the other day. -Yeah, I'm sorry too.
I don't know why I'm apologizing 'cause I came back for you and all.
It was a lot to process. And the timing was all off, and...
That's us in a nutshell.
Couple of good-timers with exceptionally bad timing.
Excuse me.
-Are you the wife? -No, I'm not.
-This is the mother of my child. -Okay.
-Did he leave you? -No. She left me.
-It's complicated. -Sounds like it.
-I believe we had an appointment. -Sure. I'm gonna shoo.
Let's talk later. I want to tell you all about my new job.
I'm intrigued.
Stop it.
It was nice to meet you. My name's Karen, by the way.
Okay. Bye.
Okay. Good luck!
-Is it cool if I record this? -Whatever you gotta do.
-Hi. -Hi yourself.
I'm here with Hank Moody, writer of books and some movies.
-Anything else? -No, I think that about covers it.
Thanks for the intro, Charlie Rose.
-She's pretty hot. That lady. -I concur.
-Like in a milfy way. -That's the besty way.
-I guess you hit that. -I totally hit that.
-Did you used to love her? -I do. Very much so.
-Are you guys, like, together still? -Not, like, at the moment, no.
It's smart to keep your options open. Wouldn't want anything tying you down.
Yeah, but "Freedom's" another word for missing someone.
I think Taylor Swift said that. You want to be a writer, huh?
Not really. Seems like hard work.
It's having homework for the rest of your life. What do you want to do?
-I kind of want to be an actor. -Right on. Noble. Practical.
My grandmother says I remind her of a young, um...
-Dustin Hoffman. -No, Marlon Brando.
You show up somewhere, everyone's always really nice to you.
Get to hang out with these beautiful actresses and kiss them and shit.
Then you get to move on, do the same thing all over again somewhere else.
Seems like the life I'm trying to lead for myself.
-Bet you fuck a lot of actresses! -What is this supposed to be about?
The type of guy you are.
How do you think you know what type of guy I am?
One thing I know for sure, you seem kind of into yourself.
You sure I didn't fuck your girlfriend or something?
Pretty much. Never really had what you'd call a girlfriend.
-I'm sorry to hear that. -Yeah.
-But you did fuck my mom. -You're not fucking with me?
Believe it or not, this has happened to me before.
But we're gonna get through it. Just keep calm and carry on.
When did this unfortunate moment of carnal whimsy occur?
I don't know, I guess about nine months before I was born.
END OF EPISODE 73