Previously on Californication...
I have a wonderful idea.
I give you one of daddy's long, slow tongue baths.
Hey, I want you to meet Gabriel.
Oh.
You were getting sucked off by your sponsor.
The penis is not only a disgusting appendage,
it is also a deadly weapon.
What the fuck do you think you're doing?
He was my best friend, a childhood mate.
I'm sorry I was such a bitch.
God, I'm so sorry I fucked your husband.
Do you know that fucker?
This fucker is supposed to be in rehab right now.
Did you sign Robbie Mac?
Yeah, I-I wasn't sure if it was gonna stick.
Well, it stuck all right. It's on Deadline.
Oh, he's no 'mo.
No, he's just pretending.
He wanted to sign the Mac Attack.
There's a party in your mouth tonight,
and I'm coming.
I can't!
I'm not exactly sure how I feel about you in general.
You know, you did fire me.
Should we assume the deal is off?
Fuck you, Hank.
I'm going off to write something.
You're gonna write something?
- I don't know what it is. - Really?
Interesting. Prepare to be John Woo'd.
♪ ♪
♪ I'm gonna take you with me, find someplace to hide ♪
♪ if and when they find us ♪
♪ at least we can say we tried, yeah ♪
♪ I'm gonna get my motor movin' ♪
♪ I'm gonna dress in black ♪
♪ walk down that red carpet ♪
♪ show everybody I'm back ♪
♪ ♪
Hi, woman.
Where you going?
I have a meeting.
Oh, you want to grab some coffee?
Well, I have a meeting.
Well, can't you be late?
- I have a meeting. - I don't understand.
Okay, so some people, they have to work for a living.
Oh, when I works, I works hard.
Well, get to it, then.
Well, I need a muse, you know. Where you going?
I can drive you, and we can talk on the way.
- Atticus Fetch's house. - Mm.
Hmm, I think you've been there.
I have. It's all a bit blurry, though.
Mm, I can imagine.
Hey, why'd you blow him off?
'Cause I didn't want
to write a fucking Broadway musical, Karen.
The guy seems like a nutter,
and I think he might threaten my sobriety.
Says the guy with whiskey on his breath.
That was a creative lubricant,
and it's not working so well.
No, so don't do-- I got to go.
So you're refusing to be my muse?
Oh, sweetie.
I'm gonna remember this
when you need something from me, all right?
When I need something from you?
- Should that day arrive. - Yeah.
I don't like you working.
You're kind of-- you're kind of curt and brusque,
and, you know, you're always on the go.
♪ Californication 6x05 ♪ Rock and a Hard Place Original Air Date on February 17, 2013
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
Ken. Jesus!
I didn't even see you there.
You--you scared the shit out of me.
- Sorry, Charlie. - Whew.
Didn't want to scare you, never want to scare you.
I appreciate that.
- What's going on this morning? - Not too much--
just another day of living the dream.
How was the party last night?
Ah, well...
Guys in black leather,
smell of moist ass hair...
What's not to like?
Ken, I think I feel your penis in the small of my back.
Think of it as a loaded gun pointed at your head.
Do I have to?
Are you gay, Charlie?
No. No, I'm not.
And I'm sorry I lied, Ken.
But I'm a good agent.
Get up.
Ooh!
You're a mid-level hack, Runkle.
Check Deadline.
I don't care that you lied.
I don't care that your not gay.
I wouldn't fuck you if I was dying
and your batch was a magic potion.
I care that you lost this agency a major piece of business.
Ooh!
How'd it go, buddy boy?
I'm sitting in the dark in my underwear, Hank.
- Aw. - And I'm day drinking.
Got it.
What's next for us, buddy boy?
What are your thoughts
on a good old-fashioned murder-suicide pact?
Nah, not yet.
Let's save that shit for a rainier day.
Oh, like it's not pouring right now?
I'm a fucking failure, Hank.
I'm unemployed, divorced.
I'm a shitty father. No, you're not.
Really, Hank? You think I'm a good father?
Not especially, but you're not shitty.
I mean, you are sometimes, but we're all shitty sometimes.
Cat's in the Cradle and whatnot.
Do you have any idea how expensive this place is, Hank?
The rent is insane.
Why are you living beyond your means?
It's the only way I know how.
My ex-wife went off and married a big-time movie producer.
So I went out and rented a Malibu pussy pad.
God, if these walls could talk.
They'd tell you to put your clothes back on,
you depraved simian.
Depraved or not, I'm living paycheck to paycheck, Hank.
And there are no more paychecks!
What am I gonna do?
Look, I've got an idea.
It's not a particularly good one,
and I'm sure I'm gonna suffer as a result.
But it's something that could benefit the both of us--
you mostly, though.
Do I have to be gay again?
- But you passed, Hank. - Yes, I know.
But I was not a well woman at the time.
Not only did you pass,
you puked all over his piano... Yes.
And his cocaine. No, it is uncool, dude.
Yes, but we've made up since.
You know, we've broken bread.
We've shared women and cocaine.
I think he likes me again. Come on, Stu.
Help us out here.
Look, fellas, as a producer,
there's only so much I can do.
The talent is driving the train on this one.
But...
I will put in a call.
Thank you.
In the meantime, there is something you got to do for me.
Anything.
You have got to convince Marcy to sit down with me.
I have got to plead my case.
My business is going to shit without her.
I can't do that, Stu.
She won't listen to me.
Smurfy tits? It's Hankness.
Yeah, you got to do me a favor.
You got to sit down with Stu.
I know he's a lying, cheating scumbag.
But he misses you something fierce.
Yeah, he misses that sweet little blue pussy
and that tight little raisin of a cornhole.
All you got to do is sit down with him.
He won't munch your box, I promise.
- Scout's honor! - He won't munch your box.
No, I won't.
It's just she tastes so fucking good.
- Shush. - If you say so.
Hold on a second, all right?
I never was the pussy-eater you were.
Well, you really should have thought about it, Charlie--
you know, compensate for your shitty hang time
and your serious lack of inches.
Jesus, fuck you, Stu.
- Sorry, just keeping it real. - Hold on.
Will you shut the fuck up, both of you?
Yeah? So you'll do it?
Oh, she'll do it. Mm!
Later, female ejaculator.
♪ ♪
Fuck you.
Now, when you say "fuck you," what do you mean exactly?
I mean just that--fuck you. And fuck him.
That arrogant motherfucker was face-to-face
with rock royalty, and he fucking blew it.
I really thought we mended fences.
We did. We have.
I like you, Hank. I'm a fan.
But I can't collaborate with you if you're not a fan of mine.
- Why not? - Because it's not natural!
If I work with you, there will always be this little voice
in the back of my head--
"He's not a fan.
He thinks you suck. Maybe you do suck."
Who wants to live like that?
"What are you? Tone deaf?"
Like that? Hank.
What?
You are a fan. Aren't you?
Yeahyeah, you know what? I did what you asked me to do.
You said, go back, listen to your early stuff.
That's what I did. Really?
I did, yeah.
Which record?
Um...Uh...
It was so good.
It was, um...
Go Fetch.
You don't sound very sure of yourself.
No, no. I mean, that was--
you know what?
That was really solid shit right there.
I really, really enjoyed it.
- What was your favorite song? - What song did I like best?
On Go Fetch, what was your favorite song?
It's like children.
How do you choose a favorite song?
But if I had to choose,
like, if you put a gun to my head...
Uh...Sss...
Step and Fetch It.
- Really? - Mm-hmm.
- That's my favorite too! - Well, good.
Yeah, I wrote that in 15 minutes on the shitter.
I think it's responsible
for one of my least favorite hemorrhoids.
- Wow, that's a good story. - ♪ Step and fetch it ♪
♪ Step and fetch it ♪
♪ I'm fucking crazy ♪
Look, I'm in the middle of an epic shit storm right now.
I fired my manager last week, because he's useless,
and I think he's stealing from me.
They all steal.
Mostly 'cause he was just a useless fucking glad-hander.
And I'm all out of cocaine,
and my dealer's not answering my calls.
And I just miss my magic songwriting powder.
God, it makes me want to take a dump
just thinking about it.
- Charlie? - Yes?
You're a useless fucking glad-hander, aren't you?
Yes, yes, I am.
Oh, oh.
Might you be in the market for new representation, Atticus?
Dude, you're a Hollywood Agent--
a wanker in a suit.
What the fuck would you know about managing rock bands?
Hey, hey, don't judge the wanker by the suit.
This dude, however bald and pasty--
as rock and roll as they come.
And loves to pound the pussy.
This is true.
I love to pound the pussy.
He does.
Look...
If you can get me some Peruvian flake,
I'll maybe, possibly think about throwing you in the mix.
One thing of Bolivian flake--done.
Peruvian! Peruvian flake, you fucking moron!
Any country you want.
- Oh, one more thing. - Anything.
I need you to find me
the 1945 Martin D-28 acoustic guitar
that used to belong to the childhood friend
I buried a few weeks ago.
I'm recording this tribute song for him,
and I have to have that fucking guitar.
It was so beautiful.
Talk about a gorgeous sound.
It was like listening to Jesus ejaculate
into the mouth of the Angel Gabriel.
Great. Excellent.
You tell us where, and we will get it for you.
If I knew where,
why the fuck would I need you?
Hey.
- Hey, yourself, young lady. - We're looking for faith.
Then you've come to the right place.
Come on in.
Hank Moody.
You don't seem that surprised to see me.
Well, I suppose I conjured you.
How do you like the book so far?
Thank you for buying the hardcover, by the way.
So far, so good.
You got it right-- the rock world.
Few writers do.
Mmm...
Will you settle down, Runks?
Have you never seen a pair of breasteses before?
I wasn't looking at the--
No offense. They're lovely.
None taken. I know they are.
- Good for you. - She knows.
Yeah, she knows.
So how's your sobriety treating you, Hank?
Not as good as yours, I see.
Well, what can I do you for?
Well, I need a guitar.
Mm. You know what?
I think I saw a guitar center just down the road a piece.
Can't miss it.
And some cocaine.
- Ooh. - Ow!
- Not just any guitar. - Not just any cocaine--
Peruvian flakes. Ow!
It belonged to your D.R.S.B.-- Your dead rock star boyfriend.
Coining it.
It's an old acoustic.
A Martinelli.
A Martin, jackass.
I know it well.
He used to leave it here all the time.
Said he loved the idea of his favorite guitar
spending time with his favorite girl.
Oh, that is sweet.
So it's here?
The guitar is here? No, not anymore.
He got in pretty deep
with this crazy fucking drug dealer.
So he gave it to him to pay off the money he owed him.
- Oh, shit. Bummer. - Doesn't have to be.
I suppose I could take you guys over there.
Do a little one-stop shopping.
Yeah, that would be most groovy of you.
Do you think
that this guy might have some cocaine as well?
He's retarded, isn't he?
You're Hank Moody.
Hank Moody I am be. How'd you know that?
What, you don't think I can read?
Could you be any more fucking condescending?
You think just 'cause I sell narcotics,
I don't know how to crack a fucking book?
My shit just got more expensive,
Motherfucker.
Hey, wait, I say
Motherfucker just like that--
That's my thing.
Well you're not the only one, motherfucker.
- Motherfucker. - Motherfucker.
Sir, we need one pound of your best Peruvian blend.
We will be on our way. "Flake," jackass.
A pound? You seriously want a pound?
Yes, yes.
How much is that gonna run me?
- 35. - Hundy?
That's a bit expensive.
We're gonna have to make another stop
back at the automatic money machine.
Grand. 35 grand.
We're also gonna need Tony's guitar.
Why?
Atticus Fetch.
He's desperate to record with it.
Fuck that pompous dinosaur.
Hey, that's exactly what I said,
to his face.
- Boom. - My man.
So you want a guitar that is currently in my possession
and some of my precious narcotics.
The question is...
What are you prepared to do for me?
Look...
I think we both know that guitar doesn't really belong to you.
Sure, Tony gave it to you to pay off his tab,
but it really belongs to the world.
It should be out there making music,
not hidden in some dark lair.
And who knows?
That guitar could be the thing that gets Atticus back
to making some beautiful fucking music again.
You make a convincing case, Faith.
Always fancied myself a...
patron of the arts.
Mm, I got into dealing so I could be closer
to my favorite musicians.
But... I don't know.
Also, Shari will give you a blow job
that could cure cancer.
What?
Why do you always do this to me?
You said so yourself-- you need the practice.
This pleases me.
Usually I get head from ugly strippers
in exchange for drugs.
But that's not gonna get it done, folks.
You know, if you want, you can throw a shot
into his mouth too.
Up until recently, he was a homo--
big, big, big homo. - Look, look...
I tried to suck a man's dick.
I couldn't do that shit.
I'm too straight for that shit, okay?
Is there anything else I can do for you?
I like that suit.
You like this suit?
I know just where you can get this suit.
They got all sizes.
I can point you in the right direction.
Boom!
Take it off.
Thank you so much for seeing me.
Go in the living room.
I'll be right with you.
Oh, hello.
Uh, I'm Stu,
Marcy's estranged hubby.
Ophelia.
Pleasure to meet you, Ophelia.
I understand you betrayed Marcy's trust.
That's true. I did--most certainly did.
I understand you put your dirty cock
in some young woman's mouth...
twice.
I'm sorry. Who are you exactly?
And now you, uh--
you're trying to get back in her good graces?
It's true.
I am.
I-I'll do anything.
And you think the sweater
and the bottle of wine is going to do it?
No, no, no. Of course not.
But it is a 1964 Georges de La Tour.
I just hope it's not too jammy.
Uh, what on earth is that thing?
It's a cock cage.
Oh, my.
What is a cock cage?
It is a male chastity device...
Available on my website.
It traps your cock in a flaccid state, Stu,
which is very nice and cozy.
But if you get aroused,
if you surrender to your baser instincts,
it can make things very unpleasant
for little big man down there.
- Oh, dear. - Mm.
Are you suggesting I wear that thing?
I'm not suggesting anything.
I mean, you're the one who said you wanted to make it up to me.
Don't you think you should wear that thing, Stu?
He's right.
It does sound like Jesus coming in someone's mouth.
Well done, gents.
Now, where's my fucking cocaine?
That's it?
That's what you got me?
That's all we could afford, Atticus--
Mr. Fetch, sir.
This piddly amount of cocaine
will last me all of about 12 minutes.
You stupid, useless, bent motherfucker!
Never get a suit to do a man's job!
"A suit"?
You call me a suit?
I gave up my suit for you, literally.
Don't you fucking dare.
You're right. She's right.
You're absolutely right.
This is--this is a magnificent piece
of rock and roll history,
and it must be treated accordingly.
And, by the way,
your defiance...
gave me a thunderous erection.
Aah!
Look in the case.
Check the compartment.
He always kept drugs in there.
Here you go, rock-star asshole.
This calls for a celebration.
Well done, gents.
It'll be an honor to work with both of you.
See you bright and early tomorrow...
afternoon.
Okay, so we're gonna go to dinner now.
Can I come?
No, you filthy animal.
Marcy, maybe you should leave the TV on for him.
- Good idea. - Yeah? Yeah.
Oh, no! Not girl-on-girl porn!
- Marcy! - What?
Don't forget to kiss your hubby good night.
You're right. Of course.
How rude of me. Baby. No!
Ooh! Ouchy.
Oh, oh.
No.
Ouch.
Aah!
Oh, the wine and the weed
has made this big-time rock manager sleepy.
And sloppy.
If you're gonna hang out with rock stars,
you better learn how to handle your dope, buddy boy.
That's dope advice.
You can crash here. Shari, can you--
I'm not sucking his dick.
I wasn't asking you to.
I meant "Can you show him the guest room?"
Oh. Okay, sure.
- Can I see your boobies again? - No.
Just one?
- Okay. - Whoo-hoo.
In answer to your question from earlier,
yes, he is retarded.
But--but he means well.
- He's funny. - Mm.
But you two are especially cute together.
Thanks for your help today.
No.
You were great the other day at the funeral.
I'm happy I get to repay the favor.
Boom.
I like your writing, Hank.
Yeah, go on.
I like where this is going.
Don't--don't stop yourself.
I will say nothing.
Well, you were...
irritating in rehab, but, uh...
You've got that thing that I keep an eye out for.
What thing?
The thing that's hard to describe--
that flash, that spark.
You know, some would call that genius.
Oh, some might, but I won't.
I think "genius" is the single most overused word
of our lifetimes.
Word.
But I will say that you're clearly doing
exactly what you were put on this planet to do.
You are making use of your gift,
and that is attractive.
It's just-- let me get this straight.
You met me, and you found me irritating.
Thoroughly.
And then you read my work,
and you found me less irritating,
even attractive.
Something like that.
God, that is--that is, like, every writer's dream.
And that never happens, ever.
No, once it did happen-- once, once before.
I could really do something with you.
Huh?
You're obviously very talented.
But you haven't nailed it yet.
Classic underachiever.
That's what my folks always said.
Oh, it's pretty exciting, really.
- What is? - 'Cause I could be the hammer.
Gulp.
The only question left is, do you want to be great, Hank?
'Cause that's how I make my mark on the world...
by helping you make your mark on the world.
Good night.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. No, no, no.
Don't you want to help me make my mark over here?
I didn't say this would be easy.
♪ She looked past the scars ♪
♪ and burned-out eyes ♪
♪ and could see I'm no easy ride ♪
♪ she's just the kind ♪
♪ who might get you to buy ♪
♪ some strange religion ♪
== sync, corrected by elderman ==