[keys clacking]
[typewriter dings]
Are you gonna be weird about last night?
[squeals] Probably.
- [chuckles] - You're not?
Nope. It was perfect.
But we'll take it slow.
I will take it any way
you want to give it to me. - [giggles]
You need to come back with something no one's expecting.
Do a show that will make people go, "Shit.
I didn't know he could do that."
- You guys gotta do it. - We're a little busy
helping to destroy our current show.
Hello!
- Oh, bollocks! - You know, I've never enjoyed
- your cooking more. - Hey!
- Want to do a show? - Whoo-hoo.
Dear God, what have we done?
[llama grunts]
[keys clacking]
[typewriter dings]
[wind blows]
♪ quirky music ♪
♪♪♪
[gunshot]
♪ light music ♪
♪♪♪
- Surprise! - Look at you!
Out of your house, driving a car.
- I know! - Oh, it's like Lazarus.
But with a better haircut.
Oh.
Who's Lazarus?
From the Bible.
And she had really bad hair?
Yes, she had really bad hair.
God smote her with it.
Ooh.
- [chuckles] - Aw.
What a treat.
Just to see you in sunlight.
How did this happen?
Um, A: the shrink upped my Prozac.
- [giggles] - Never hurts.
And...B?
Who said there's a B? [giggles]
Your little friend, A.
I'm... kind of seeing somebody.
You--you haven't left your house in
three weeks, unless you ordered him on Amazon.
Okay. I'll tell you,
but you can't be judgmental.
[scoffs]
Why would I--
How can you be back with her?
Have you forgotten how controlling and paranoid--
A: Judgmental. - Well--
And B: not her.
- [scoffs] - [sighs]
Not Castor?
Castor?
- Oh--no. - [sighs]
[laughs] Oh, God no.
[both shudder]
Well then...
Nooooo...
All right. I know.
I know what you're going to say.
Really? I don't.
You-you have actually... [shaky breath]
rendered me speechless.
How could you possibly--
So not so speechless.
[stammers]
I just don't-- of all the men--
Excuse me, men and women in the world.
[mocking sounds]
With Merc? Lapidus?
May I speak now?
[mumbles]
It's totally different this time.
- [muffled] - It is!
It's like all the good stuff
minus the bullshit.
Mm-hmm?
There's no Jamie, so...
[laughs]
I don't have to share him.
We don't have to sneak around.
Mmm, mm.
He's not my boss anymore.
And that's not a turnoff for you?
No. [scoffs]
Look, I-- [sighs]
I know you're not a fan.
- Mmm! - But...
I'm kind of starting to feel like me again.
Just a...
And he's the reason.
And a little bit the Prozac,
but mostly him, so...
put away all your little mmms and hmms
and try to be happy for me.
All right.
[inhales]
If this is really what you want...
It is.
...then I will
try to support it.
Really?
Mm-hmm.
Mmm... [squeaks] hm!
- ♪ lively music ♪ - Be here next time.
We'll be one step closer to finding out
who will beat the box.
[cheers and applause] Good night!
[cheers and applause]
- Hey, bud. - Hey.
How's my favorite client?
I don't know. How is Bradley Cooper?
[laughs] Well, you're definitely my funniest.
So listen, what if I told you
that you could make a million two
and all you have to do is spend a day in Philadelphia?
Seriously? A whole day?
- QVT... - Oh, Jesus.
...wants you to front a line of Matt LeBlanc vests.
What are you trying to do to me?
1.2 if you sell out.
Which is what I'd be doing.
Oh, please. You know who's doing QVT now?
Hm?
Everybody.
Bradley Cooper?
Don't do that.
Jennifer Hudson's selling pants.
Your friend Ellen is there.
Give her a call, she'll tell you.
It's the easiest money you will ever make.
- 1.2 from vests? - It's pure profit.
They sell 'em for, like, 39.99,
but they cost a buck to make in Sri Lanka.
- What do I have to do? - Nothing.
You stand there in your vest.
You take a few calls. You watch the tote board go up.
It's like a telethon, only you're the disease.
How soon would this happen?
As soon as the little children finish sewing the buttons on.
It's not really kids making them, right?
[laughs] No.
- Hello. - Hello.
Hey, hey-- let me ask you something.
Would you pay 39.99
for this vest?
First of all, it's a waistcoat.
[mocking imitation]
Fine, would you pay 39.99 for this waistcoat?
That particular one?
No-no. This is like 400 bucks.
Like a shittier version of this.
So your question is would I buy
a shitty waistcoat for 39.99?
- Yeah. - No.
This-this is not your target audience.
Anyway,
ready to go?
Oh, right. Big weekend.
You guys gonna bring me back a new show?
- [chuckles] That's the plan. - Fingers crossed.
All right! Go be funny.
You go be agent-y.
Ah, look,
you already started.
Think vests.
All right, let me just go, uh,
change out of this, and then we can--
Hey, hey!
What's that one doing here?
- [Sean] Morning, hello. - Hello.
No one told me about the reunion.
- Oh, no-no-no. - Oh, we're doing
a new show together.
Oh, exciting!
Getting the old team back together.
Well, not the whole team.
I'm totally kidding.
We know.
So what brings you here?
Oh, just picking up my man.
- Picking up your--what? - Sorry?
Oh, yeah, Mr. Lapidus and I
are kind of an item.
What-an item? What--
what do you mean by "item"?
Are you shitting me? Why?
Uh, not everyone can be the perfect boyfriend,
guy who fucked my daughter then never called her again.
They gotta learn.
[Beverly] You and...Merc?
Well, you know we used to have a thing back in the seven--
Just say it.
And you're back together now?
Uh, yeah.
In fact, as of last week-- [gasps]
What's this?
You're engaged?
Oh, I love hearing it with the accent.
You're...engaged.
I know, it's kind of fast.
But hey, no one's getting any younger.
You are.
Ohh.
And he gave you that ring?
[hushed] I know!
If the light catches it just right,
Merc Lapidus starts looking pretty damn good.
What a bastard.
- Let it go. - I can't.
I always said he was a dick.
This is gonna kill her.
I even feel bad for Morning.
Were those new tits?
I know. I thought that too.
So we all feel bad for Morning.
Well, she'll be fine.
She got the ring, she'll get alimony.
Meanwhile, poor Carol.
If you could have seen her face...
she's so happy.
Fucker.
I don't know what I'm gonna tell her.
You're gonna tell her nothing.
That's what you're gonna tell her.
- Oh--I've gotta say something. - No, you don't.
You really wanna be the one who brings her this news?
There's a reason "hug the messenger"
is not an expression.
So then I'm supposed to let her just go on,
completely oblivious?
[car horn honks]
It's not like they were bigger...
- Hmm. - ...but there's...
something.
- Hands on the wheel. - Yeah, I know.
They were just more...
hel-lo.
I'm trapped in a car with two boobs
talking about tits.
No, you're right.
It's awful. Poor Carol.
It's like her nipples looked higher.
- They can do that? - I'd like to think so.
- I'm calling her. - No, don't call her.
Every time you've got involved,
every time-- am I wrong?
So what? [sighs]
He just gets away with it?
It's her life. Stay out of it.
[sighs]
I hate this.
It's probably just her bra.
You think?
Wardrobe told me she gets them specially made in Brazil.
Ooh.
- Interesting. - Good to know.
[quirky music]
♪♪♪
Okay, this is it. [clears throat]
[Beverly] This is your little ranch house?
- Yee-haw! - [giggles]
Yeah, I had the set guys from Friends do it.
I just said, "Give me a ranch set."
You're lucky there's a fourth wall.
- [sniffs] - What?
I was just trying to place that...
fragrance.
Ah. Horseshit.
Ah.
I was gonna guess eucalyptus.
Nope. Horseshit.
Although sometimes they shit on the eucalyptus,
so maybe that's it.
Good nose, darling.
Yeah, it's way worse during the day.
Mmm, something to look forward to.
- You guys want a drink? - No, no, that's all right.
It's been a long day.
And we have a big, smelly day tomorrow.
[mutters] Oh, well...
Okay, grab your stuff.
[Sean] Right behind you.
- Breathe through your mouth. - I'm trying.
♪♪♪
This is certainly not what I expected.
No. It's like a sleepover
at Michael Jackson's house.
Ohh.
- What? - Look.
- What? - There.
- What, the hair? - Yes, the hair.
These sheets aren't clean.
- Better? - No.
Ohh. There's another one.
[distant animal calls]
Hey. What's up?
Uh...
I think whoever's in charge of the beds
may have forgotten to
change our sheets.
That'd be Lupe.
Yes, well,
Lupe forgot to change our sheets.
You sure?
There were hairs in mine.
Ah, I wouldn't worry about it.
It's just my kids.
Uh... they were gray.
Gray and...
[clears throat] curly.
Oh, and my mom stayed here.
So she doesn't color all her hair.
Ew. Fucking Lupe.
I'll talk to her on Monday.
Yeah.
But, uh, in- in the meantime...
- Hmm? - [exhales]
I'm-I'm sure your mother is perfectly hygienic,
but call me crazy...
And I do.
...I prefer clean sheets.
So, uh, if you'll just
show me where the linens are...
I don't know where the linens are.
How do you not know where the linens are?
- It's your ranch. - I know where the barn is.
- Probably cleaner. - I'm sorry, what?
So when you need to change your sheets...
Lupe does it.
- Or not. - Well, do you wanna switch?
- Take my bed. - No. [exhales]
Those are your dirty sheets.
I don't know what to tell you.
♪♪♪
So?
Totally useless.
You're welcome to scooch in here with me.
What makes you think yours are any cleaner?
You're welcome to sleep on top of me.
Maybe I can flip the sheets over.
Darling, I'm begging you,
just turn off the light and let's go to sleep.
[sighs] Fine.
But I'm not getting undressed.
Perfect. Do that.
[sighs]
Sleep well.
[mutters]
[low whirring sound]
Brilliant.
[sighs]
[typewriter keys clacking]
[typewriter dings]
How the fuck do they sleep in outer space?
Well, for one thing, they have clean sheets.
[gunshots]
[gasps] Holy shit.
[lightsaber activates]
[lightsaber hums]
[softly] What the fuck?
You hear that?
The gunshots?
No, listen.
[crickets chirping]
Something's definitely out here.
So you just shot randomly into the night?
Didn't you say you have a ranch hand?
- Yeah. - Maybe you don't anymore.
No, it's this wild boar that's been coming around.
A wild boar?
I fucking hate that pig.
He digs holes everywhere, eats my sprinkler heads.
Shits on the pool furniture!
How do you know it's always the same pig?
Oh, I know those shits.
I think I might have winged him.
We should go check. [Beverly] You go check.
- We're not going out there. - It's fine.
To face the potentially wounded wild boar?
Just, here-here. Grab a shovel.
No, I'm not grabbing a shovel.
Nothing good ever starts with "Grab a shovel."
All right, fine.
I'll go alone.
So you should. It's your boar.
I'm coming for you, fucker!
[distant animal calls]
[lightsaber deactivates]
[Beverly] It's like having a sleepover
with No Country for Old Men.
♪ quirky music ♪
♪ ♪
[Matt] Morning.
- Mm. - Morning.
I made coffee.
- Oh, I could use some. - Sounds good.
I think there's bagels in the freezer.
Maybe some eggs.
Oh, my God.
Did you know your gun
is still sitting out here next to the cereal?
Oh, and there's cereal.
[laughs]
Find any dead bodies in your yard?
No. But that fucking pig knocked over my barbecue.
There's irony.
[phone rings]
[sighs] Carol.
Huh.
Hello.
Hey. How's the ranch?
Very ranch-y.
Yeah?
Like someone lit a horseshit candle.
I told you, soon as the sun hits it,
oof.
Question.
It's Merc's birthday next week,
and A: I have no idea what to get him.
Also, B: I've got no money to get it with.
Then I say, C: fuck him.
Is it too lame if I make something?
- I have got to tell her. - I was thinking, like,
going to one of those Color Me Mine places
and making a little bowl.
So what do you think?
I think
making something for him is fine.
- I just... - Beverly.
...wouldn't put your heart into it.
'Ello, Beverly.
He's there?
Mm-hmm.
All right, well,
got to get to work.
Wish him happy birthday for me.
[chuckles] Bye.
I am the worst person ever.
[gun cocks]
[imitates gunshot]
Second worst.
Okay, I had my assistant get us pads,
pens, scissors, Post-its.
She got us a white board.
You name it, it's all here.
Jesus. It's like she knocked over a Staples.
- Oh, fuck, staples! - I wouldn't worry.
I don't think we'll get so much done
that we'll need to attach things to each other.
Okay, glass half empty.
So do you have any sense of the kind of show
you want to do?
I'm thinking a one-hour.
I don't know, something smart.
Maybe a little dark.
You know, sophisticated.
Anything else?
In an ideal world,
I get to shoot people.
That is sophisticated.
[Beverly] So... [exhales]
we've got...
smart,
so-phis-ti-cated...
Shoots people.
- Ooh! I got an idea. - Go.
Can I do the writing on the board?
Absolutely.
- That was your idea? - Yep.
Okay, so what's the show? Let's just toss things out.
Anything's fair game.
There are no bad ideas.
Okay.
What if I'm the president?
Of what planet?
I thought there were no bad ideas.
- So did I. - Screw you.
I could play a president.
Okay, let's say you're the president.
So, now we have
smart, sophisticated,
shoots people,
and president.
I'm liking this.
Should I make a reservation for lunch?
- We just started. - I know.
But the way we're moving...
Okay, so,
you're the president.
- Then what? - I don't know.
You're the writers. I gave you president.
If I could do it all, I wouldn't need you.
Ooh!
What if I come back from the dead?
Are you still the president?
No, no, new idea.
All right.
But what I do come back from the dead with?
Like superpowers
or, uh, some kind of special knowledge?
Maybe you come back with an idea for a show.
Or clean sheets.
Okay, I'm getting a real negative vibe here.
[Beverly] Where you going?
I need a cookie. Anyone else want a cookie?
No, come back, attention span.
You're the board guy. You have the pen.
[sighs] Fine.
Has anyone ever done sort of a
Sliding Doors kind of thing,
where you see three iterations of a man's life
different ways they could have gone.
You could intercut between them,
see how they inform each other.
- Or what if I'm a pimp? - Or what if you're a pimp?
Well, seriously.
It could be this cool, dark, edgy show.
I'm a slimeball,
but I care about my girls.
Actually, I don't think we've ever
seen that world before.
Documentaries, maybe.
Yeah, totally, totally.
I could run, like, this bunny ranch in the desert.
And we could explore how each of the girls ended up there.
Learn about them as people.
Yeah, dig into the little nuances of their lives.
Oh! [huffs]
I got a title.
[Beverly] Whores.
There's your nuance.
I love this.
[Sean] What are you doing?
Pitching it to Roger.
Whoa-whoa-whoa. Slightly premature.
Oh, nah, this is it.
I would totally watch Whores.
I think we're all assuming that you have.
Hey, it's me.
Guess what?
We got a show.
It's a dark, edgy one-hour
about a brothel in the desert,
and it's called...
Yeah. He guessed Whores.
He knows you well.
What? No.
That sucks.
Netflix is already doing Whores.
Are you sure?
Treat Williams and Sharon Stone.
Jesus.
All right. I'll talk to you later.
Shit.
Oh, I understand your disappointment,
having invested almost four minutes of your life.
Fucking Netflix.
I know it's hard to believe,
but there might be one other idea
in the universe.
No, I-I-
I can't do this now. I need a break.
From what?
Let's go shoot something.
Like, what? A one-hour?
Come on, seriously. You ever fired a gun?
I couldn't even fire our assistant.
♪♪♪
[Beverly sighs]
Spread your feet a little more.
Don't lock your knees.
[horse whinnying distantly]
Is it gonna be loud? I don't like loud.
- Nah, you're fine. - You promise?
Yeah, it's like slamming a car door.
And, uh, now get your grip a little higher.
Make sure your support hand is against the weapon as well.
Oh, when did John Hinckley get here?
When I was a boy, my father took me shooting.
You never told me.
Yeah. It was my mother's idea.
She thought it would bring us closer.
Turns out it just made me realize
how easy it would be to kill him.
- [chuckles] - All right, less talking,
more aiming. Now, you want to loosen up.
Don't hunch your shoulders.
Still hunching.
Still hunching
Those are my shoulders!
Really?
Now, you want to have both hands tight on the grip--
- [gunshot] - It's loud! It's loud!
- [gun firing]
- It's loud! It's loud! - [bottles smashing]
[hysterical sounds]
Holy shit.
Well done, darling.
That was no fucking car door.
All right, all right, just give me the weapon.
I am never doing this again
because [shouting] it...was...loud!
- Okay. - All right, my turn.
- [loudly] What? - My turn!
[muttering]
All right, now, remember. Focus on the sights,
- not the target. - Don't worry, I remember.
[Matt clears throat]
- [gunshot] - [Beverly whimpers]
I was just warming up.
[gun fires]
I got to remember to breathe.
[gun fires]
[chuckles]
This weapon's heavier than my father's.
- [gunshot] - [Beverly whimpers]
I think there's something wrong with your gun.
Don't hunch your shoulders.
Shh...
Just relax. You can do it.
Feeling a lot of pressure.
Use it.
[gun fires]
[animal squeals]
What the hell?
[animal squealing]
[grunting, squealing]
- [laughs] - Oh, no!
[Sean] No-no-no-no-no.
- [Beverly] Oh, God. - What did I do?
You got the fucker.
I didn't mean to get him.
Oh, look at the poor thing!
- I can't-I can't look! - Oh!
It's suffering.
- Well, I know how to stop that. - [cocks gun]
Wha-what are you doing?
I'm gonna finish it off. This is him.
- Is it? - You don't know that.
Well, who do you think it is?
You just ate your last sprinkler head, asshole!
- No! - What?
You can't kill this pig.
So he eats a few bloody sprinkler heads.
He has as much right to live here as you do.
Uh, as the guy who paid 8 million for it...
If this were a dog,
would you shoot a dog?
It's not a dog.
Yes, well,
did you know that pigs are more intelligent
than dogs, and quite a few people?
Yeah? Then how come I'm the one with the gun?
- Oh-- - And when did you become
the fucking pig expert?
When I was growing up, my cousins had pet pigs.
Oh, they are the most loyal, affectionate,
emotionally sophisticated--
Oh, it's shitting!
- [groans] - Oh, this is horrible!
Just end it! End it!
No!
This is Wilbur!
In Charlotte's Web, this is...
that talking pig movie.
- Babe? - Yes!
He's gonna shoot Babe.
[gasps] You can't shoot Babe.
It's not Babe.
It's bacon.
Oh.
Hey, if this was a talking pig,
we'd be having a very different conversation,
all four of us.
Just because you can't understand him
doesn't mean he's not communicating.
Other pigs understand him.
I understand him, right now.
He's saying, "I'm in pain, help me!"
We need to help him!
No. You know what we need?
Hash browns.
We need to get him to a vet.
What? No. It's a wild boar.
You're a wild boar!
Where was that snappy dialogue
when we were working before?
Oh, look, it's passed out.
We are taking this animal to a doctor.
We are not taking him to a doctor.
All right.
Then you're on your own with your stupid show.
- Oh, come on. - That's right.
I am putting it- we are putting it
all on the line for this pig.
You want us?
The pig comes too.
[scoffs] Fuck me.
I'll get the truck.
[keys clacking]
[typewriter dings]
[sighs] All right, let's fucking do this.
Uh, you guys get the back, I'll get the front.
[boar groaning]
- [yelps] - [both] What?
I touched the tail!
Switch.
[Matt] Okay, ready?
One, two,
three. Pick it up.
- [all strain] - Pick it up. Pick it up.
- Now what? - Put it down.
Put it down. Put it down.
- Ah! - Ooh!
Fuck, that's a heavy pig.
- Ideally, we need a winch. - Oh, sure.
We could just make one out of sticks and twigs.
- Do you have a ramp? - What am I, Angie's List?
There's no time. His breath is getting shallow.
That's not what I'd call it.
We've got to do something now!
Uh...I know.
I can accidentally back over it.
Let's just try lifting it again.
- We can do this. - I don't think--
- We've got to. - All right.
All right, okay, okay, how about this?
You take the front,
you take the back,
and I'll get the middle.
Okay.
[Matt] One, two,
three!
[all straining]
Ow. Ow.
The bristles are going through my gloves.
Keep going.
Hurts. Hurts.
You're tipping.
I know I'm tipping!
[groans]
I hate this fucking pig.
♪ quirky music ♪
Why is this taking so long?
You shot him up pretty good.
I'm sure he'll be fine.
He lost so much blood.
[dog whines] [sheep bleats]
It's funny.
When you have ham,
there's like no blood at all.
Hmm.
What? It's true.
[animals whining]
How is he?
I wish I had better news.
The bullet tore through an artery
and also punctured his trachea.
So much a talking pig. [chuckles]
Will he survive?
It's possible. He's a fighter.
- Oh, thank God. - The good news is
we were able to stop the internal bleeding.
Okay.
Tracheal reconstruction is more complicated.
- But it's doable? - Well, it's tricky.
It means taking cartilage from either his ear
or his thyroid.
I'm not sure we could do that here.
We'll probably have to move him to a larger facility.
Say we do all that,
what kind of prognosis can we hope for?
Well, obviously there are no guarantees,
but I think with time
he stands a good chance of recovery.
Oh, that's such a relief.
Thank you.
How much are we talking here?
It's hard to say.
Minimum, 12 to 15,000.
You paying?
- Well, we did what we could. - He had a good life, it's...
♪ quirky music ♪
♪ ♪
♪ somber music ♪
♪♪♪
[phone ringing]
Okay...
[phone ringing]
Oh... [sniffles]
oh.
[muttering]
[phone ringing]
[groans, spits]
[gagging]
Uh, hold on.
Oh...
[spits] Bah!
Hello?
Are you okay?
Uh-huh.
[keys clacking]
♪ quirky music ♪
♪♪♪