Californication - Third Season

Previously on Californication...

- My name is Hank. - I know. Mia.

This is Mia, Bill's daughter, and this is Hank.

- You two know each other? - No.

- She's 16. - 16, wow.

It's not a memoir.

It's a written account of my sexual relationship with you.

Written by me as a fucking novel.

Even I'm confused, and I stole the damn thing.

Didn't you get the memo?

I'm taking Fucking & Punching all over this fair country of ours.

Coming soon to a super-sized bookstore near you.

They came. The divorce papers.

I have said all along, I still love you.

Fuck your pussy.

Oh, my back!

You OK?

- OK. - What the fuck is this?

Fucking retarded.

Retarded and sweet. Just like you, Runkle.

I can't believe you slept with all of them.

Yes, I suppose I did.

So, what, you're saying we just pack up and leave LA?

The three of us move back to New York together?

Yeah, end of the semester, whatever.

What is it about New York, Hank?

What do you think you're gonna find there?

Happiness.

I'll be happy...

finally.

- Are you sure? - Yes, of course I'm sure.

It's what I want.

I love you.

Wherever you go, there you are.

Well, that is true, honey, but...

Why do you drink so much?

Are you punishing yourself?

Do you feel guilty about something?

I miss fucking you.

I miss it too, but I just can't do that any more.

I don't care any more, Hank.

Our best days are behind us now. You're just chasing the dragon.

We're never gonna live happily ever after.

You're gonna die poor, drunk, and alone.

I was available, Hank. Why didn't you love me back?

Well, because I love her.

You're my role model, you know,

for men, for relationships.

What hope could I possibly have?

- Are you OK? - I'm fine. I'm fine.

What up, ladies?

- Your daughter has a question for you. - All right.

Ask away, shortness.

What's that place, again, with the really good bagels?

How soon they forget.

- Murray's, the answer is Murray's. - Murray's. That's right.

What about that other place, on the West Side,

we go for breakfast sometimes?

- Barney something. - Yeah, Barney Greengrass,

where you may very well have been conceived, young lady.

- Really? - Yeah.

Actually, no, it was the bathroom at CBGB's.

Jesus Christ, boundaries, people.

Yeah, well, we went to the bathroom at Greengrass the next day, if you recall.

And who's to say which batch of seed took root, woman?

- This is true. - And there goes my appetite.

We should maybe go pay a visit there, to that shrine

to your vagina.

One of these days I'm going to start talking openly about sex,

and you're not gonna like it.

Can you pass the orange juice?

Of course.

Stop!

Come on!

This is fun. I'm gonna miss this. I'm gonna miss you, man.

I'm gonna miss you too, vanilla sweetness.

No, I mean, I'm really gonna miss you.

You are my best friend, Hank.

Why don't you just come to New York with us?

- Really? - Yeah.

You can be our houseboy, homeboy.

That would be fun, actually, yeah. I could make you guys breakfast.

I could help Becca get dressed and ready for school.

She's not a toddler, you fucktard.

I don't know. I don't have any kids.

- Yet. - What do you mean, yet?

- You've had, like, five vasectomies. - Two, buddy boy, two.

And, you know, I think maybe it might be time for a reversal.

I think I might like to make a baby with Marcy.

Interesting. Has Marcy shown any inclination

that she might want to make a baby with you?

I have reason to believe she might be open to such a thing. Yes, I do.

Would that be before or after the divorce papers come through?

No, you don't know. We've been getting along like gangbusters lately.

Really, I would say, if I was a betting man,

that these two crazy kids are gonna work it out.

Yes, we are back. Up high. Give me five.

Way up, in the air.

- Up hi... - Too high for me.

Yeah, OK.

Honey, I'm home.

Hey, look what the cat dragged in.

Hi, Hank.

It's my favourite female novelist.

Doesn't she look beautiful?

Yes, she does. Look at you, all footloose and fancy-free and grown up.

Yeah, I'm glad I caught you guys before you took off for New York.

So, what brings you to these fair parts?

The paperback is coming out,

and we're doing a little signing-reading in Venice.

- I want you guys to come. - God, would that we could,

but we have too much with the packing. It's overwhelming,

and we got to set our affairs in order, so to speak.

No, I... That's all taken care of.

I said yes already,

- that we'd go. - Of course you did.

Well, and also, Mia wants to...

introduce us to someone.

A parole officer, perhaps?

A boyfriend, and it's serious, right?

Yeah, well, he is pretty great.

Is it love?

Well, what does she know of love?

She's far too young to speak on such matters.

Too young? Hank, didn't you get the memo?

I'm totally legal now.

Good to know. Man, this is gonna be just...

- way too much fun. - Right?

Are you sure you don't want me to stay home and watch Becca?

I don't deserve to have this much fun.

You know what? That's probably Becca right now. We're coming.

Hello?

Hey, sweetie, guess...

Well, much as I'd love to stay and watch you squirm,

I got to get moving.

But I'll see you tonight, right? I'm looking forward to it.

So am I, so much so. OK.

And just so you know, after all this time, you still make me a little wet.

Toodle-oo!

I'm shuttering the agency.

What? Why?

Yeah, it's time this old broad hung up her dancing shoes,

time I kicked back,

relaxed, spent a little quality time with my Dickie.

So many positions left to explore.

And I have to work on this.

What am be dat?

My memoir.

I would love to read it sometime.

I want you to read it.

And then I want you to sell it.

That's right, Runkle. I want you to be my agent.

What are you talking about, Sue? You fired me.

Look, Runkle, whether you know it or not,

you're a maverick, a renegade.

You beat off to the march of your own drummer.

That's the kind of agent I want.

That's the kind of agent I've always tried to be.

And in the meantime,

you can take me.

OK, I see where this is going.

You're dangling your memoirs,

which I know I can sell the shit out of, by the way,

as an excuse to continue our torrid little affair.

I don't see why the two cannot peacefully coexist.

Because I love my wife, Sue.

We're on a serious upswing now.

And I am sick and tired of your constant sexual harassment.

You say harassment. I say a couple of big, juicy orgasms between friends.

All right, we'll have it your way,

completely professional.

- Thank you, Sue. - Utterly boring.

Collini...

wet.

Love the writing,

so visceral and real.

Who are some of your influences?

God, there are so many.

But if I had to narrow it down,

I guess I'd have to say Bukowski...

- Nabokov... - Stop it.

But I guess the writer who really shaped me,

the one who was my last true influence

before I started doing this professionally,

that would have to be... Hank Moody.

All right. Thank you.

I thank you.

You're so moody.

You must be Hank and Karen.

- Yes. - Paul Ryder, Mia's manager.

- Hey. - Mia's got a manager now.

What is this world coming to?

You'd be surprised. Careers need guidance, nurturing.

- Sure. - You hear that? Nurturing.

I suppose, if you're into that sort of thing.

I just wanted to tell you, I'm a really big fan.

Anyway, Mia wanted me to invite you guys back to the house for a drink.

- No. - Yes.

You will. You will see us later.

- OK. - OK.