Previously on Californication...
- How's school? - Dad, I told you.
I'm not going. I'm working on a novel.
What are you gonna fill a novel with?
Life, love, sex, death.
What do you know about any of those things?
Move it along, groupie, and take him with you.
You watch your tongue, you filthy mongrel.
This is Faith.
Have a look and grasp
the cosmic importance of this lovely young lady.
Without her, there'd be no rock and roll.
Tony talked about you all the time.
He said that you had an uncanny ability
to suck killer riffs out of him.
I'm sorry I was such a bitch.
God, I'm--I'm so sorry I fucked your husband.
But you haven't nailed it yet.
'Cause I could be the hammer.
I'm in the middle
of an epic shit storm right now.
I fired my manager last week,
and I'm all out of cocaine.
Might you be in the market
for new representation?
If you can get me some Peruvian flake,
I'll maybe think about throwing you in the mix.
Here you go, rock star asshole.
It would be an honor to work with both of you.
See you bright and early tomorrow...
afternoon.
[Upbeat music]
♪ ♪
Becca.
I think it's time, Becca.
For what?
Time you stop this funny business
and went back to school.
No, I'm not doing that.
What are you doing?
I'm living the life of an artist.
Okay, I got it, but what-- what does that mean
to you, exactly?
Because there's a lot more, little missy,
to being an artist than just
altering your consciousness on a daily basis.
I know, which is why I'm writing
on a daily basis.
You are?
Uh, how many pages you got?
I'm closing in on three hundy.
Whew. I'm jealous.
I'm going to finish it, dad.
My first novel.
I hate you.
Do you want to know how many boys I've slept with?
Oh, no! No, no.
That's disgusting.
I'm going through an extremely slutty phase
right now.
Uh, will you do me a favor and take this
and just hit me over the head with it
as hard as you can?
I won't get mad, I promise.
I just want to experience everything
while I still can, you know?
Every taste, every smell.
[Shuddering]
Stop gagging. You're not my father right now.
You're my artistic guidance counselor.
You can't judge me.
Well, your mom, she can judge you,
and she is judging you, and she's worried about you.
She's got way too many issues to handle this shit.
She thinks I'm headed down your path.
What's so bad about that?
That's exactly what I said.
That's my girl.
Okay, well, I'm not judging you.
But, Becca, promise me that you'll just keep it simple.
You know, get your drink on, keep the pages coming,
smoke a little peaches and herb even,
but stay away from the hard stuff.
And--and no more of that tasting and smelling.
That's--that's-- that's disgusting.
What about blowjobs? [Footsteps approach]
[Coughs]
Hank! Hank! We gotta go!
Thank God. Charlie, I will go anywhere with you.
You know why? Because my daughter
is asking me about blowjobs.
Where we off to?
Atticus needs you aboardAir Force 69
right this very now.
That sounds exhausting.
He's like a retarded rock and roll puppy, that guy.
Will you blow him off for me?
No, I won't blow him off. I can't do that.
I won't do that. He's my biggest client, Hank.
I'm sorry, but he is. How many records have you sold?
Are you wearing eye shadow, Charlie?
- Hello, Becca. - Charlie.
I have to take your father
- away from you now. - Take him.
Get him out of my sight.
Do you guys mind if I crash here,
do some writing, maybe have a few people over?
Whatever you need. I got alcohol.
I got pornography. I got pictionary.
[Smack]
Have fun.
[Mouths words]
[Upbeat music]
♪ ♪
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
[Sultry music]
♪ ♪
Welcome aboard Air Force 69,
where your every wish is our command.
Really?
Atticus makes us say this shit.
But we will make out with each other if you want.
Oh, okay.
Hmm.
Krull, the English Danish.
What's shakin', Magic Mountain?
Here, show me so love.
No love, no love.
Kruller, this is Charlie Runkle.
I've got my eye on you, the both of you.
All right?
Good talking.
[Cacophonous chords]
♪ ♪
Hank.
Thank you for coming.
Why am I here?
- I've got nothing. - What do you mean?
Do you know how much money they're paying me
to write the music for this bloody fucking thing?
No, I don't.
More money than you'll ever see in your lifetime.
Hey, I've made a fair amount of cabbage in my day.
Aww, how cute.
Your proletariat hopes and dreams.
Do you know how many songs I've written
for this venture of ours?
No, but, uh,
why don't you tell me?
Zero.
Zero point zero fucking zero.
- That doesn't sound good. - It isn't fucking good.
- It's bloody terrible. - It's also not true.
You played a song for me at your party the other night.
I wrote that when I was 12 years old.
I was trying to recycle it.
That's probably why it sounded so shitty.
Fuck you. Wasn't too shitty for the judges
of my year nine talent contest.
What am I doing here?
Hank.
I need you, Hank.
I need to get at the heart of this love story.
I need you to open a vein for me.
I've been rich and famous for so long now
that I don't think I know what it means
to be a human being anymore.
You're real, Hank. You're--you're a real man.
You're a--you're a man who loves a woman
who doesn't love you back.
She loves me back. What--it's complicated.
I love my wife. She loves me.
We're together. It's not that complicated.
- You fuck other women. - That's different.
How so?
Do you urinate, Hank?
Do you defecate?
There are elements in the human body
that need to take flight.
Ejaculate's just one of them.
Right, that's what masturbation is for.
Ew, no. Masturbation?
Masturbation's for the poor, the downtrodden,
the silent unfuckables.
I walk down the street and women present themselves.
They want to extract my fluids.
It's an honor and a privilege, Hank.
What--what sort of asshole would refuse such a kindness?
- What about your old lady? - What about her?
What about her needs?
Wives are different.
They don't rub themselves raw like we do.
They're ladies.
All right, well, you seem to have it all figured out.
- I'll be on my way. - No, please.
Please stay.
I am flying to New York
to play my music for the Broadway producers.
But you have no music.
Which is why we need to hammer the story out.
Once I know the story,
the music will-- will pour out of me
like a chunky hailstorm of shit
after a night of Dutch curry.
- [Coughs] - Speaking of which,
I have got to drop the kids off at the pool
before I soil my leathers.
These pants? $7,000.
It's good to be the king.
Make yourself comfortable, Hank.
There's pizza and... cocaine and...
apple juice.
Hello, sweetheart.
Hello, Hank.
Mrs. Fetch.
Or perhaps I should say Mrs. Fetching.
[Both chuckle politely]
I've been wanting to have a word with you.
Regarding?
An extramarital affair.
- Oh, my. - Mm.
I know my husband fucks around on the road.
- You do? - Mm-hmm.
But we have an agreement.
Are you sure?
Well, we've never actually discussed it,
but I have needs too, you know.
That's what I said.
I mean, that-- that's totally understandable.
Would you like to take care of those needs, Hank?
Me? Uh, why me?
'Cause.
This whole rock-and-roll idiot man-child shit
gets old.
I need a-a real man from the real world.
Are you man enough to be that real, Hank?
I-I-I don't think so.
I mean, in fact, you should speak
to my estranged better half.
She would tell you that I fall
more into the idiot man-child category.
Karen? She speaks the world of you.
- Really? - Yeah.
That's sweet. What does she say?
Enough about Karen.
[Sighs]
Isn't it weird, though, because she works for you?
I'm paying Karen to remodel my home.
If she thinks she can expect more than a paycheck
for her services, fuck her.
- Wow. - All's fair, Hank.
I see you and your husband have
the same twisted sense of entitlement.
That's--it's actually kind of cute.
I don't want to twist your arm, but, um,
I'd like to take your hand here
and shove it up my skirt.
[Footsteps approach]
- Ow. - Yum, yum.
You making a play on the boss's wife?
You've got no fucking shame.
Kruller, it is not what it looks like.
I'm just meat. Man meat. You know how that goes.
You know.
Gimme an excuse, pal.
You won't even hear me coming.
Pfft, pfft.
I'll slice them fucking cheeks wide open.
They'll be flapping about like the sails
on the H.M.S. Bounty.
See what a fucking charmer you are then, son.
What are you doing?
What's it look like I'm doing? I'm getting ready for takeoff.
What's wrong with you? You're sweating like a pig.
You know what a nervous flier I am.
No, I don't. I've never flown with you.
That's because I never fly, Hank.
It scares the shit out of me.
What's supposed to keep this whole thing
from just falling into the ocean?
Well, for one, we're going to New York.
There is no ocean.
That's even worse!
Certain death!
Okay, just buck up, buddy-boy.
This shit is too weird for me. I'm out.
Hank. H-Han--Hank!
Hank.
Hey.
[Kissing]
Hey yourself.
You just can't stay away from me, can you?
What are you doing here, Hank?
Oh, my presence was requested by the king of pop-tarts.
- Same. - Oh, I get it.
He's in the market for a new muse, is that it?
Who says I'm interested?
Well, you're here, aren't you?
Maybe I heard you were gonna be here.
Maybe you did. Did you?
Maybe.
Maybe I just came with a friend.
[Clatter] Oh, Jesus Christ.
No, I've got it.
I've got it. I'm fine.
- Frank! - Widow.
- Oh, call me Trudy. - Okay.
Beautiful.
You had your dick in me mouth, remember?
Of course. Who could forget?
Oh, he's got a nice rig on him, he does.
He could foam the fucking runway with that thing.
- Good to know. - So you guys are BFFs now?
Yeah.
We've certainly got a lot in common, no?
Been riding the same disco stick and all.
Mm? Pbbt, pbbt.
Staying or going?
Staying or going, Hank?
[Driving rock music]
♪ ♪
All right, favorite Radiohead album.
Oh, that's easy. None of them.
That shit's way too cool for me.
- Oh, fuck off. - No.
All right, here's one for you.
[Squealing softly]
Side two, track three, Houses of the Holy,
by a little band they like to call
the Led Zeppelin.
Mm, No Quarter.
You're good. You are good.
You have no idea.
I inherited a dead uncle's vinyl collection
and spent years in my childhood bedroom
just listening to records.
Hmm. Is that all?
Hmm?
I will have you know, Hank,
that I was a very good little catholic schoolgirl.
- Oh. - Up to a point.
Oh, are you-- are you trying turn me on?
Do--have you given any further thought to, you know, what--
To what?
You know, you said you could do something with me,
bring my best work out of me.
You said that you could be the hammer
that would help me to ♪ nail it ♪
I'm not sure, Hank.
Something tells me you're a little more trouble
than you're worth.
[Sighs] No, no, no, no, no, no.
I-I can wax on and wax off with the best of them,
Mrs. Miyagi.
Atticus would like a word with you.
Ugh. Okay.
Not you, sweetheart.
I told you he wanted to get in your knickers.
Well, it's not as easy as it looks.
Yeah, don't I know it.
[Sniffing]
Whoa. Groovy bedroom, dude.
This is not a bedroom.
This is my very own erotic chapel.
Mm.
That doesn't sound the slightest bit creepy.
- The answer is yes. - Sorry?
I would very much like to enter
into a relationship with you,
one based solely on sexual pleasure
and the transference of inspiration.
[Laughs] I'm sorry, Atticus,
but the answer is no.
Tony said that you were like a miracle.
When you came into his life,
he was blocked and bloated and strung out
on China white,
and two days later,
he had a double album's worth of material.
I would--I would very much like to receive the same benefits,
in exchange for which you will experience
first-class travel, pharmaceutical-grade narcotics,
uh--uh--uh, the occasional trinket,
and--and a solid 5.9 inches
of--of rock-star penis.
That's from taint to tip.
And it's the high end of average.
Don't believe what you read.
Wow, that does sound like the deal of a lifetime.
But, uh, it's-- it's not really that simple.
Why is it not that simple?
O-okay. I'll buy you a German automobile,
but that's it.
Atticus, your wife is outside.
Yes, but I slipped her an Ambien.
What? That's awful.
Is it? Why?
'Cause you drugged your wife.
[Snorts] She loves drugs.
Look, I'm not actually used to having to ask
for sexual favors.
Typically, they-- they just come to me.
I know.
I do.
The thing is,
when I throw in with a guy, I go all-in.
That sounds delightful.
I need to know what we're trying to accomplish here.
A rock opera.
About...love.
Great. All right.
Play me something.
You're fucking joking, right?
I have to audition for you?
Do you think we'll make it?
His favorite place to play
was Madison Square garden.
Atticus promised to get me in there.
I'm gonna spread his ashes all over the fucking place.
Is that sanitary?
What are you so scared of, pumpkin?
It's just... [Exhales]
so unnatural, this...flying.
What's the worst that could happen?
Huh? We end up fucking crumbs in a jar, huh?
Pbbbt! Big fucking deal.
All just dust in the wind, you silly twat.
[Scoffs]
You remind me of my ex-wife.
You still love her?
Moments like these, when I'm...
staring death in the face, I realize I have a lot
of unresolved feelings for her.
Yeah, she is the mother of my child.
Oh, no, I'm sorry.
Well, I feel that my life has deteriorated
ever since we broke up.
But I've had some solid sexual experiences.
Right.
I've made some serious deposits in the wank bank.
[Laughs]
That's brilliant.
I'm...still in love with her.
Come here.
Come here, little boy.
It's all right.
I've been there.
- Mm. - [Inhales deeply]
[Groans squeakily]
That's nice.
Yeah, it's nice.
[Sultry rock music]
♪ ♪
[Zipper unzips]
♪ ♪
There he is.
There's your little winky.
Come on, now, Wee Willy.
Stand up and shout for Trudy.
Let Trudy tug all your troubles away.
[Voice jerking] There you go-o-o-o.
[Sighs quietly]
Oh.
Oh, you're a speedy one, ain't you?
[Gasps]
Good for you.
You got yours.
Rest up, pumpkin.
[Clears throat]
I might ask you to put it in me bum later.
It's too small for the front
but jussst right for the back.
Tony was way too big for that sort of buggering.
Come on.
[Sobbing loudly] Why?
That's what's missing in my life, you know?
Romance and longing.
What about Mr. Fetch?
You can't long for a cartoon character.
- Oh. - I mean, don't get me wrong.
He was a really sweet boy,
all heart and balls and swagger,
but that boy turned into a rock star,
and that rock star got everything he ever wanted
and more.
Eventually, he just lost touch with reality.
I just--I want to long for someone...
Oh.
The way you long for Karen.
Oh, jeez. Okay. Ugh.
Here we go.
Come on. There you go, come on.
Let's do this.
You trying to skull-fuck the missus now, are ya?
Kruller, this is so not what it looks like.
Ahh--ahh--ahh. Ah, ha, ha.
You're gonna enjoy this, aren't you?
You have no idea.
Land this fucking plane right fucking now!
[Cymbal crashes]
Why? We're gonna crash, aren't we?
I want this pathetic little slut off my plane.
This is my private airplane, and I make the rules!
Why are we not landing?
Why are the landing gears not coming down?
What did she do?
She was inappropriate with me,
with my wife on board, no less.
Is she alive?
She's fine. Go back to sleep.
It's just fucking bullshit. He's clearly pissed off
'cause I wasn't interested in fucking him.
- I knew it. - [Laughs]
I knew you were a fucking cow.
Hey, I thought we were friends.
No, no more!
Home-wrecker! Home-wrecking fucking cow!
No, I don't buy that for a second.
I don't give a fuck if you buy it.
She's gone, and I'm gonna tell
the entire rock and roll community that you have
vagitosis and warts.
That is just fucking mean.
Okay, land this fucking plane,
but if she goes, I go, and you can finish
your fucking musical by yourself,
you spoiled ginger.
And get your house in order, 'cause your wife
is looking for strange.
All right, that's the second time
you've laid hands on me, broheme.
The first time, I totally deserved it
'cause I wrecked your piano and your cocaine,
but I did not deserve that pathetic little
bitch-slap just now.
You know what that calls for?
Titty twister!
[Screaming]
Agh! Get him off me!
[Laughing wildly and screaming]
[Thunder crashes]
Oh, Jesus, Mary, Joseph!
Here we come!
Hank? Hank?
Hold me!
Uh, settle down, Runks. If this is--
if this is it, this is a good day to die.
[Screams]
Shi-i-i-t!
[Screaming]
Jesus!
[Metal banging]
[Screaming]
Tony!
[Wailing]
[Sobbing] Oh, no!
[Snorts]
Well, thank you for standing up for me.
Oh, sure, no problem. I mean, who wouldn't?
Just because you're a groupie and--
and you've slept with thousands of rocker dudes
doesn't mean you're not a woman of virtue.
And I don't believe for a second
that you have vagitosis.
- Or warts. - If you say so.
- [Sobbing] - Go ahead, Churchill.
Get in there.
I don't know if I can. I'm too freaked out.
Come on, prime minister.
If you're gonna die, wouldn't you rather die
with your dick in me bum? Huh?
[Thunder crashes]
[Both groaning loudly]
Yeah.
[Both grunting and moaning]
Oh, fuck this.
If I'm gonna die,
I'm gonna die doing what I was born to do.
[Thunder crashes]
[Playing Elton John's Tiny Dancer]
♪ Blue Jean baby ♪
♪ L.A. lady ♪
Wait. Dude, really?
Could you pick a more obvious song?
Fuck you! It's an homage.
Cameron Crowe was right, and Elton John was a God.
[Playing continues]
♪ Hold me closer, tiny dancer ♪
[Both groaning] ♪ Count the headlights ♪
♪ on the highway ♪
[Howls]
- [Mumbling lyrics] - [Laughing and grunting]
[Humming and improvising on piano]
[Humming in lower key]
♪ So long ♪
♪ so long ♪
[Laughs]
Fuck. This is it.
This is the moment we've been waiting for.
I'm shitting genius right now.
[Uncertainly] ♪ Saw your ♪
♪ you reflected in the windows ♪
♪ of a Boeing 727 ♪
♪ ♪
♪ stared out at the ♪
[Humming]
♪ As the sunset turned ♪
- It's okay. She knows. - Huh?
She knows you love her.
♪ Watch it growing ♪
Yeah, I suppose she does.
♪ Turns hell's kitchen into heaven ♪
[Laughs giddily]
- ♪ Turn my face to me ♪ - Come here.
♪ I tucked your hair ♪
♪ behind your ear ♪
If this is really it,
then I want to spend the last moments of my life
listening to great music
and making out with the cute guy
who just defended my honor.
♪ So long ♪
That sounds like a reasonable request.
♪ So long as we are together ♪
♪ so long as we are ♪
♪ so long ♪
- Ow! Ow! - [Grunting]
- Ow! Ow! - [Grunting louder]
[Screams]
Fucking Christ!
[Both gasping and moaning]
Oh, I just had me an assgasm!
[Panting]
You're a bloody fucking sorcerer, you are.
[Panting]Terra firma.
Terra firma, motherfuckers.
Careful, Charlie.
There's bound to be a bunch of rock star DNA on that floor.
I don't care, Hank.
I don't care if I get the mother of all cold sores.
And we are taking the train back to Los Angeles.
- No, we're not. - Why can't you ever indulge me?
Well, my friends, we did it.
[Snaps fingers] We have a song.
Jesus bloody Christ, woman, you are a--
a proper fucking muse.
Thank you.
Mm. Mm.
And I'm, uh, deeply sorry
about my childish behavior.
I tend to get that way when my manhood is assailed.
Fuck you.
[Groans]
What the fuck?
Hello, sweetheart. Did you have a nice sleep?
Did I take an Ambien?
Yeah. Don't you remember?
No.
Yeah.
Did you drug me again, you fucking wanker?
[Chuckles] Of course not.
Guess what, though.
While you were sleeping,
I wrote you a fucking song.
I'll play it to you back at the hotel.
- Okay. - Come on, darling.
It'll be all right. Oh-oh.
Shit. Okay.
[The Who's Magic Bus]
♪ ♪
♪ Every day, I get in the queue ♪
Oh.
I don't want to alarm you,
but you seem to have misplaced your clothes.
Oh, I won't be needing them for a while.
So is it naked nap time?
Hmm.
Think I'm gonna hang back here for a bit.
Really?
'Cause that's New York City out there,
and I know like seven pizzerias, all of them fantastic,
and we could hit every one,
just one bite here and one bite there and just--
Sounds yummy. Maybe after.
After. After?
[Giggles] I've been doing some thinking.
Some naked thinking.
Uh-huh. Congratulations.
You have made it to the next round.
♪ Ooh ♪
[Laughs]
♪ ♪
♪ I want it, I want it, I want it, I want it ♪
♪ you can't have it! ♪
♪ I want it, I want it, I want it, I want it ♪
♪ magic bus ♪
- ♪ Magic bus ♪ - ♪ Magic bus ♪
- ♪ I want it ♪ - ♪ Magic bus ♪
♪ every day, you'll see the dust ♪
♪ too much, magic bus ♪
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com