Weeds

Previously on "Weeds"...

They found Esteban's body. You're safe now.

What are you doing? Going to New York to find mom.

You're all going? Yeah. We're going to America.

Go home. There will not be any good photos today.

Come on, Gunder.

I've doubled the sales of your weird flower water.

How's my baby boy?

Annancy!

What did he call me?

"Aunt Nancy."

Hi. I'm Nancy. I'm Zoya's -- I know who you are.

I was hoping we could make a trade.

What do you want? You want money?

I want weed.

Free taste.

Andy: Is that why you were avoiding us all day,

to smoke a bowl with some new crime buddies or...

Did you? What?

Avoid us? Yes.

Where am I going?

Urine sample,

drug test kit, in my office now.

Sync & corrected by honeybunny

Redrum. Redrum. Redrum. Redrum.

Redrum. Redrum.

It's 8:00 A.M., ladies. Drug class is in session.

Shelby Keene -- wasted 28 years to smack,

did another seven for sale and distribution.

Been where you are.

Heard about you, pretty.

Number.

Number! 81426-370.

You like crapping in metal toilets, 370,

in full view of the world?

You like the stench of disinfectant,

the lights on all night?

You miss it?

Not especially.

You piss positive again, that's where you're going --

Right back, full sentence.

Pretty, sit.

Some of you have been away for years.

You're going out to a changed world.

The city's cleaned up, sentence is twice as hard for possession.

Nice old pusher-man in the park

is now a messenger with a beeper and a gun.

Don't nobody use beepers no more, Pocahontas.

That's stone-age shit.

When I used to work for Magic Jim,

you call 1-800-get-magic, and whoop, there it is.

Woman: Nah. The real joint's the witch doctor.

Man's got a Twitter feed and a fuckin' iPhone app.

Beep-bop. He's at your door.

Beeper. Bitch should be wearing a bone in her hair.

Jamaica Bay, Queens?

No. Too far out. Stay on the island.

Easier to get to Washington Heights.

Three-bedrooms are really expensive.

We still have enough money for return tickets.

Maybe we should all go back.

That money's for rent. Here. Come on.

This is what you worked for -- no more flower-water ads.

Big Apple. Get out and take a bite.

Ooh! Bottomless bacon!

Yes!

Off to Wall Street.

Feeling bullish.

Bearish?

Is it for a gay venture-capital firm?

Oh, you're just hatin'

'cause you never knew I had such a fine ass.

Coming with us to see your mother?

Nope. Job interview. All right.

Well, I will send her your regards.

Catch up with you later.

Let's get it done.

Three minutes. Clayman's on break.

Hi.

So, um, last night? Urine sample?

Any chance you're going back to prison soon?

Counselor Ed pulled strings -- drug class, eight sessions.

W-where's Silas?

He had stuff he had to do.

Yeah, still mad at me.

Yeah.

Well, come on. The Lars thing?

Something that, uh,

we should have a family discussion about at some point,

a lifetime of deceit and so forth.

So...

I-I really wanted to tell you --

It was, um, n-nice of you to come.

I'm glad to see you. How's Copenhagen? Is it good?

How did -- I have a girlfriend.

Had.

I sent you pictures.

She's 34...

...Divorced, puppet theater, baby crazy,

a whole sister thing -- Renata "Other shed."

Oddershede. "Ooter shit."

Oddershede is her last name.

We won Best Children's Theater by time out.

Oh, wow. Puppets. Uh, marionette or hand?

Marionettes.

This is Sleipnir, the eight-legged horse,

and this is Berteline,

the sheep princess who danced her husband to death.

And Huginn and Muninn, the gossipy, murderous crows.

Wow. Elaborate.

So, how long you in town for?

We're not -- we're not going back. We're staying.

Clayman's back from break soon.

Yes. Okay.

You're gonna live here?

Don't sound so happy.

Oh, no. I'm...

I'm happy.

It's just things are different now -- really different.

I'm not gonna be...

You're grown-ups.

Wow. Retiring from motherhood.

I knew something had to give, but I didn't, uh --

No. Everyone needs to be responsible for themselves.

What do you think we've been doing for the past three years?

Okay.

So, um, what are you gonna do here?

What's your plan? I don't want to hear puppets.

I don't know. I'll get a job.

No. You had three years to play. You're gonna give me four.

You're going to college.

I fucked up your high school. I'm not --

Time, Botwin.

So...

Okay.

Bye.

Silas "Gun-nerd."

It's "Gun-nard."

Nard.

Hylde -- Hylde --

Hyldeblomst.

It's, uh -- it's a drink. Refreshing.

Is this for print work? My agent didn't really explain.

Hi. I'm Maxeen, the artist.

I thought we weren't supposed to talk about this.

In public, Yvonne is Maxeen.

I choose to not participate

in the commodification of my persona.

I have two last names.

One is the product, and one is the real me.

You are perfect for the gig.

Will you do it? One night, 2,000 bucks.

Oh...

Man: Up there, sweet party deck.

Over here, Italian steam shower,

sub-zero in the kitchen --

Yeah, big plans.

And then the economy tanked.

Suddenly, my nightclub is a fucking tomb.

No one's ordering bottle service,

no private parties -- no nothing.

Business goes bankrupt.

I tried to unload this place, but nobody's buying.

Double fucked! I give up. White flag.

I am going back upstate and living in my brother's attic

until the market turns.

So what you see is what you get.

I got nothing to put back into it -- zero, as-is.

All repairs, you do yourself.

So exposed wires, no kitchen,

no bathroom wall, and the elevator doesn't work.

Hoop!

Oh, game-played --

Knicks versus Nets, Meadowlands, '88, epic game.

Don't fuck it up.

No, no, no, no! No sofa dunk shots.

I will be back for that eventually.

We'll take it.

Right here, New York shitty!

Oh, Scott is being such a prick!

I don't know why I got back together with him.

Maybe it was for the kids.

Maybe I was having a weak moment.

I didn't think I could do it on my own.

It's good to see you. Is Stevie around?

I would trade places with you most days in a heartbeat --

hitting all the city hot spots,

not having to scrape mud off of everybody's fucking cleats.

Jill. What?

Where the fuck is my coffee?

Stevie -- I'd like to see him now.

I don't have a whole lot of time.

Nancy, are you on acid?

It's 10:15. Stevie's at music class.

I faxed you his monthly schedule.

Look at the fucking fax.

Put it on your fucking refrigerator

like the rest of us do, okay?

First of all, I don't have a fridge.

Second of all, I-I don't have a fax machine,