Give it a moment.
Nothing gets by me, Tina. Uno what I'm thinking?
I don't think you have any blues.
I think you put the wild card down, and chose blue,
because you want us to think you have blues.
- Just go already! - Uh, excuse me.
I am employing a little something called "strategy."
I am taking my time because I enjoy being the center of attention.
Until I put a card down, you have to listen.
It's been your turn for ten minutes.
Well, since you're being so impatient,
I'm gonna put my thing down, flip it and reverse it back to Tina.
Uno.
So you did have blues. Touché.
Henrietta, don't use a foreign
language in front of the child.
She'll get ideas.
- It's your turn, Beatrice. - Ah, ah, ah, ah!
- You okay, Hollyhock? - Yeah, I'm... I'm awesome.
I feel really good.
I just... I need a glass of water.
Oh! Beatrice, trying to slip a nine on a six.
You think I've never seen an old niner-sixer before?
- Ah! Ow! - Whoa, are... are you okay?
I'm fine! I just... Ow!
Did you cut yourself? It's okay. I know what to do.
You need some alcohol, ice, a squeeze of lemon.
- You'll forget all about your cut. - I'll be right back.
One.
Oh!
- Synced and corrected by medvidecek007 - - www.addic7ed.com -
Californians are feeling the pinch, and you butter believe
it's "beclaws" of Woodchuck Coodchuck-Berkowitz.
I see, you're referring to my hideous transplant lobster claws
in an effort to distract...
Do you want a governor who can be rendered defenseless
with two rubber bands?
Woodchuck is down in the polls.
Californians just aren't connecting with his message.
I have a very important policy announcement.
I've got new hands, baby!
Now Woodchuck is way up in the polls!
I guess his message was connecting
with voters after all.
Hey! How you doin'? Looking good.
Mmm...
Oh!
What's the big deal? I have hands too.
There's no way those new hands are as perfect as everyone says.
Nobody's hands are all the way clean.
Computer, zoom in on that thumb.
And enhance. Zoom in again.
Enhance again.
Zoom in three more times.
Enhance. Enhance.
Now zoom out once.
De-enhance. Okay.
- What are you doing? - Quiet, "Face."
"Brain" is working on something.
Computer, take a scan on that thumbprint
and cross-reference, please.
Ha! Just what I expected.
What?
Before Woodchuck, the hands belonged to one
Ernest Contralto, a criminal.
The man was a pedophile murderer.
Well, if you gotta murder somebody...
No, Tom. Not a pedophile-dash-murderer.
A pedophile-slash-murderer!
Oh, no! The way you said "slash" was very scary!
At first I didn't like him, on account, uh...
He didn't have hands?
But then he got new hands, so I liked him again?
But then I found out those hands are bad!
Can't trust politicians.
She's killing us on this hands thing.
Much like Ernest Contralto killed those innocent children
after he pedophiled them,
- with those very hands. - Not helping!
Your hands are being really aggressive right now.
Watch out!
They're attacking your face!
Hey, girl, whatcha working on? Getting some clicks?
Get them clicks, girl. Get.
Them. Clicks.
I'm working on another big piece
about how Jessica Biel is owned
by private prison lobbyists, who want...
Oh, my Gaia, Diane, nobody cares.
I care and I don't even care.
So imagine how little someone who doesn't care cares.
- Well... - What if you had lunch with her?
- Why would... - You could write about
what she smells like, how she makes her face pretty.
These are things people will want to know
about our first female governor.
Ugh!
I'll have the avocado toast.
But instead of the avocado part, I want fresh sea air,
and instead of the toast, I'll have a single grain of rice.
And for you?
Grilled cheese?
Thank you for meeting me here, Diane.
I just wanted to tell you, you can keep writing
whatever you want about me.
Obviously, it has no effect on the polls,
because the only thing voters care about
is stupid bullshit, so knock yourself out.
Well, today I just want to know what you smell like.
It's actually my new fragrance:
"Bielist," by Jessica Biel.
- Your perfume's called "B"-list? - "Bielist."
"B"-list. Like a "B"-list celebrity.
No, "Bielist"
- like Jessica Biel. - I think we're saying the same thing.
Do you want some? I got a whole trunk of this stuff.
- No, thanks. - You sure?
Mr. Peanutbutter always loved the way I smelled.
Well, I wouldn't flatter yourself too much.
He's very enthusiastic about smelling in general.
He's enthusiastic about everything.
Oh, my God. Does he still have that dumb magic eye poster?
What? No.
When we were married, he was obsessed with it.
And he would make me stare at it for hours.
Yeah, I bet.
But then, all of a sudden, I saw it.
And it was incredible.
And I was so happy that I had waited long enough
to experience this beautiful thing, and I felt so...
Why is this disgusting avocado on my plate?
- Oh, I... - I feel personally attacked right now.
Oh, so sorry.
Anyway, as I was saying about the poster,
it's funny how something so stupid
could have this tremendous power.
You know what I mean?
Yeah. I think I do.
A blog post about Jessica Biel is gaining attention
for the seemingly minor detail
that the candidate would not eat an avocado,
calling the savory fruit, quote, "disgusting."
Who doesn't like avocados?
I don't know if Jessica Biel has the
right judgment to lead California.
And I was totally convinced before,
- so it's really... - Whoa!
the avocado thing that I have a problem with.
Why would you say that you hate avocados?
I just have to live my truth, Katrina.
Her polls, like an avocado exposed to air,
have quickly turned from a verdant green to a mushy brown.
And with only seven days until the election,
her campaign might be in the pits.
Wow. Who'da thunk that such a small trivial detail
could be the thing to take Biel down?
Yeah, who'da thunk it?
Who knew?
I knew. I put the avocado thing in the story on purpose,
I knew people wouldn't like it.
So just for the record, I "thunk" it.
Even though it doesn't matter. I don't need credit.
But it does, if I didn't do that, it wouldn't have happened.
So, it's because of me.
- Well, whoever is responsible... - Me. I just told you.
We shouldn't get too excited just yet.
The election is a week away,
and a lot can happen in a week.
This is far from over.
It's over. And the clear winner is
Woodchuck Coodchuck-Berkowitz.
- All right! - Huzzah!
- We did it! - High five! Low five!
Shadow puppet!
Hand jive! Yes!
- We did it, didn't we? - We did!
You and me, working together,
both contributing the same amount.
Well, I wrote the article
that got Woodchuck elected governor.
You're the one that made him not governor in the first place.
I set 'em up. You knock 'em down.
Thank you for meeting me here.
My name is Yolanda Buenaventura of the Better Business Bureau.
It would be funnier if your name was
Betty Buenaventura
of the Better Business Bureau.
Well, I'm sorry you don't find my name sufficiently comical,
but this is actually a very serious matter.
- Oh. - We've received complaints
from several concerned parents.
It seems that many of your clown dentists
aren't actually licensed to practice medicine.
Isn't laughter the best medicine?
No. It is the worst medicine.
If you can even call it medicine, which, legally, you cannot.
Well, what if I said my business
was for entertainment purposes?
That would require your employees to be entertaining.
According to your reviews on Yelp,
your clown dentists are, quote,
"A cotton candy nightmare of Freudian
"invention that shakes one to the core."
Ah, everyone's a critic.
On Yelp? Yes, that is the idea.
It appears your business provides no service but to terrify children
and the adults who accompany them.
If this were October, you could market your venture
as some sort of spooky Halloween experience,
but since this is January, a month which, to my knowledge,
contains no Halloweens, I have no choice but to...
Wait! Wait.
What if my clown dentists put on a show?
A delightful, whimsical, non-terrifying
clown-stravaganza?
You would have to agree
we were a legitimate business then, right?
- Go on. - Give us a week. We'll put on a show.
If you don't laugh, I'll dissolve the business
and release all my clown dentists into the woods,
where they'll never bother anyone again.
All right. You have one week to create a show
that delights and astonishes me.
But I should warn you, I am a very tough crowd.
I once met Paul Rudd at a cocktail party
and I did not find him charming.
Ooh!
Excuse me.
- Get outta my way. - Like, hooked in a funny way.
You call that funny? That's not funny.
It's sad.
Well, some would argue that sad and funny
are two sides of the same coin.
Uh, no! Abraham Lincoln and some weird flat house
are two sides of the same coin.
Take five, Picarello.
I've got a week to whip these dentists into clowns.
But they're just not silly or wacky
or prone to kooky hijinks of any kind!
Should you be drinking that?
Why not? I got no baby or boyfriend.
Might as well get blotto, right?
Um, shouldn't you be at work?
I'm recal-bibrating.
Oh!
Ohh...
Hey, maybe you should...
Judah, look at my phone! Judah!
You have a meeting with Flip McVicker.
Tell his gal I'm running ten minutes late.
What gal?
- So, you're a writer? - Oh, actually that's a typo.
It should say "Waiter."
- But I'm an aspiring writer. - Uh-huh.
Sorry, that was a joke.
That's the kind of witty repartee you can expect from...
Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the business card.
Wait, ya know,
- I have this idea for a TV show. - Oh?
It's a grizzled former detective who gets sucked back in...
This sounds fabulous.
Why don't you write a script, we'll go from there?
- I already wrote it. Boom. - Oh, you brought it with you.
I don't trust email.
You know, the government.
Yeah. Look, Flip, before I even read this,
I should tell you that this town's a total crapshoot.
Odds of the right person finding your material
and connecting with it are a million to...
One.
I just know I have this great potential inside me.
I know I can do it.
Even if no one else understands or believes in me.
I'm sure that sounds pretty stupid but...
It's not stupid. I believe in you.
I don't know how else to describe it
other than this feeling of supreme warmth came over me,
like this is what I've been waiting for my whole life.
That's amazing!
Todd, the world is dark and scary and
full of creepy clown dentists...
They're working very hard to be less creepy.
But when I hold this script in my hands, I have hope.
I gotta get this made. What do I always say?
"What's the difference between an agent and a manager?"
Uh, managers are always talking about the differences
between agents and managers and agents don't as much?
No! Managers can produce!
This script is a sign.
I gotta get off my ass and produce this baby.
Todd?
Get me a meeting with Turtletaub. Set something up with his gal.
Who is this gal?
Okay. Clentists, assemble!
Wipe those serious looks off your faces and listen up!
We gotta help Princess Carolyn,
but also we gotta prep for our big show next week.
If only there was a way to do both at once.
What a ludicrous notion!
Doctor Picarello,
we might make a clown out of you yet!
Oh, joy!
Special delivery.
This next part is critical. Remain wacky.
This is a highly frivolous situation!
- What's in the package? - It's a hand delivery item.
Hey!
- Now, Doctor Boing Boing! - I am in position.
All right, Princess Carolyn, sit tight.
Whoa!
before, so it's really the avocado
thing that I have a problem with.
Target is acquired.
Deliver the goods, Doctor Boing Boing!
Ah!
It's sh-sh-sh-sh-sh-showtime!
- Whoa! - Oh!
- Princess Carolyn! - Lenny, thanks for making time.
Didn't realize I had.
Are you drunk?
You smell like somebody tried to put out a fire
at the booze factory with more booze.
Uh, new perfume, "Sealist," by Seal.
Now let's get to brass stacks.
So it's a hot young writer.
It's TV. It's me producing.
- "TV?" - Just look at this script.
I know it's gonna knock your socks off.
Eh...
Know that website, "What-time-is-it-right-now-dot-com,"
you go to when you want to know what time it is?
- Yeah. - They look to make a play
in the gritty prestige streaming world,
and it could make a big splash with a huge ad buy.
Plus, you got the built-in audience who don't know what time it is.
That's huge! That's so many people!
Yeah, yeah, this could be perfect as their first series,
but we'd have to get in fast.
They wanna premiere before Daylight Savings.
Let's set the pitch for next week.
Philbert? Who's Philbert?
He's this grizzled but very good-looking detective
who gets sucked back in to something.
No, I mean who is he?
- You got a star attached? - Not yet, but...
Eh, we can't go in without a big name.
TV pitching is like the Israeli flag,
it's nothing without a big star.
Sorry, Princess Carolyn.
No! Fish!
Oh, whoa...
Ooh, spinny.
Uh-oh! She is out like sauerkraut.
Don't let Turtletaub get back to his office.
This sounds like a job for the "Waltz of the Rubber Chicken"!
Doctor Picarello, you gotta revive Princess Carolyn.
Give her ten cc's of honka-honka.
Stat!
Oh!
Hey! Hey! Pardon me. Excuse me!
- Oh! Allow me to lead, my lady. - Wow.
- What the shell is this? - So beautiful.
It says so much without saying anything at all.
You gotta be kidding me.
Okay, okay, how about Aaron Eckhart?
He owes me a favor and he can disappear into any role.
Yeah, he can disappear so good, the audience disappears with him.
- Tony Shalhoub! - Tony Sha-who-ub?
This is "What-time-is- it-right-now-dot-com,"
not "What-time-is-it-fifteen-years-ago
dot-Geocities-dot-com- slash-Monk-fanpage."
Please. I need this so bad. You don't understand.
This project is my Ba...
My Ba...
- It's my baby. - Well, if you can't attach a real star,
- your baby's dead. - No!
Oh, thank you.
There's gotta be a name that does something for you.
Uh, Jack Huston... Hugh... Hugh Jackman.
- BoJack Horseman! - There's someone...
- Corbin Bernsen. - No.
- Ben Mendelsohn. - No, no, no. Hold on.
BoJack. That's an idea.
Yeah, yeah, sure. A BoJack-type.
I swore I'd never work with that asshole again,
but you gotta admit he's got heat.
Star of Secretariat, disappears for a year,
shows up again to do one episode
- of a reality show about butts. - Right, but...
And then you get him playing a rich, complex anti-hero like Philbert,
now there's a show that screams,
"What time is it right now?"
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Sure, sure.
I'm saying, there are a lotta guys...
P.C., can you get me BoJack or not?
- Of course I can. - I'll send over a contract, iron-clad.
I don't want to risk that jerkwad skipping town again.
Make sure he signs it before the pitch.
Uh, will do.
And, uh, go easy on the sauce, huh, kid?
Sloppy don't suit you.
Ah, I got that damn thing stuck in my head.
Guys, that was amazing!
But if we're going to convince Yolanda we're ready for the big top,
we need to really hunker down over the next week
and put together a show so undeniably hilarious
and life-affirming, that she has
no choice but to say...
Wow! What a great show!
Okay, you can keep your business...
- Hooray! - Perfect!
is what I would say if you'd put on a good show.
Just so you understand the rubric when I declare my actual reaction,
which is: "I did not enjoy that."
Oh, no!
My hooray was premature!
So I must recommend that you
dissolve this venture immediately.
All right, you heard the lady. Get into the car, everyone.
I'm taking you to the woods,
out by the old abandoned insane asylum,
near the elementary school where you belong.
Hey, so I'm taking the rest of the day off.
What? Why?
Just don't feel like working right now,
so I think if I force it,
I'm just gonna do a bad job.
- Thank you, Stuart. - But I did want to remind you
about that bitch meeting you have
- this afternoon at that clock website. - You mean the pitch meeting.
Pretty sure it said "bitch" meeting on the calendar.
Seemed a little harsh. I could go double-check,
but the calendar's all the way downstairs so...
- No, Stuart. Thank you. - You're welcome.
- What? - Hey, BoJack, great news!
- Bad time. Can't talk. - Wait, just listen for a...
Okay.
Here we go, baby.
Oh, man! You are not finding what you need!
The deck is a harsh mistress, Tina.
Hollyhock, you gotta get in here! Tina is drawing so many cards.
It's amazing.
Hollyhock!
Hollyhock?
That's her name?
Yes, for the third time, her name is "Hollyhock."
And her last name?
Manheim-Mannheim, uh, Steamroller...
Is there more?
I think there's a Lopez in the mix somewhere?
A Chung maybe?
I'm sorry, sir, I can't help you.
Okay, just... any information you can give me
on the 17-year-old horse girl who came here by ambulance
15 minutes ago would be of interest to my friend,
Mr. Franklin's... friend, Mr. Hamilton.
If you can't prove you're her parent or legal guardian,
I can't release any information to you.
- Guerrero! - What?
Hollyhock Manheim-Mannheim-Guerrero...
Robinson... Zilberschlag-Hsung- Fonzarelli-McQuack.
That's her name. And she's about five-eight.
And she's 17, her birthday is in September. And...
She looks like me.
And she loves apples but hates apple sauce.
And she's funny.
But she isn't mean.
Which is pretty remarkable,
'cause a lot of 17-year-olds think you have to be mean to be funny,
but Hollyhock is very sweet,
even if she can be sarcastic.
But she has this smile with...
Does that help?
No, man. Are you her legal guardian?
I'm not leaving here until I get to see her.
Have a seat.
Well, I don't like pedophile murderer hands,
but I also don't like people talking trash about avocados.
This is a real head-scratcher for me.
I mean, what's next?
The grief for every meal...
- She'll be fine. - Huh?
We have to think what's best for Hollyhock.
- Hollyhock is going to be okay. - Excuse me.
Did you say Hollyhock? Are you...
Jose Guerrero.
Hello, yes! Yeah. Thank God you're here.
- I'm BoJack Horseman. - Yeah, we know.
I'm her dad, Steve Mannheim.
I'm the wrong Mannheim to mess with.
I'm Dashawn Manheim.
I'm probably the right Manheim to mess with,
unless we're talking about a dance battle, in which case...
Five, six, seven, eight. Ha!
- You've been warned. - Okay. Yep.
Cupe Robinson III. I think you're just ghastly,
and I was against this whole caper from the bell.
- Okay. - Otto Zilberschlag.
Uh, formerly a huge fan.
- Now... just a regular fan. - Got it.
I know of you, but not through your work.
- Okay. - I'm Gregory Hsung.
I only watch foreign films. That's my deal.
Arturo Fonzarelli,
but I'm pretty cool so people call me the
"Ice Man."
And I'm Quackers!
- Quack, quack, quack! - Easy, Quackers.
How's Hollyhock? They wouldn't give me information.
Why would they? You're not her dad.
No, I know. I just... Is she okay?
She will be. The doctor said she's lucky to be alive.
What happened?
- She overdosed. - What? No.
How could you let this happen? Quack, quack!
- Quackers! Settle down. - What was she on? I had no idea.
You had no idea?
Have you looked at her? She's as thin as a pole.
You know I don't care for your Polish jokes, Dashawn.
She told us you were taking care of her.
- I was. - I knew she was too young
to be on her own like this. She's a child!
She called Pedro Almodóvar's I'm So Excited
"excessively kitsch."
Kitsch is excessive! That's the point!
Can I see her? Can I talk to her?
- You're lucky we don't call the police! - Quack, quack.
Our kid got hooked on amphetamines because of you!
- No, I didn't... - Quack, quack, quack, quack.
Okay, I feel like there's a lot of male energy right now.
Why don't I come back in a couple hours?
Give Hollyhock a chance to rest before I talk to her.
Are you insane?
You are never seeing Hollyhock again.
- Look, if I could just... - Never.
- I have four grapefruits. - Okay.
Henrietta, would you like a grapefruit?
I have but four, but I will share one with you,
for I am kind and honest.
No, no. No, no, no.
Oh, God. Oh, my God. Oh, God.
- Where's the girl? - She's gone, Mom.
Oh, yes, I took her, didn't I? Where did I put her?
Oh, Henrietta, would you help me pack this?
- I want to bring it to my son. - Thanks, Mom.
- It's for my son. - Right.
How did I not see it?
All this time, I thought you were a terrible parent.
And you were.
But I blew it even worse.
It turns out being a parent is
impossible, so I guess I can't be that mad at you.
Mad at me? No, Henrietta,
this is the right thing. You'll see.
Maybe we deserve each other.
Where is the girl? I made the girl coffee.
Jesus, you two and your coffee.
Wait.
No.
Oh!
What did you put in this?
That's an old family secret.
"Chub-B-Gone?"
- Takes the pounds right off. - This whole time.
Just until she learned to take it herself.
- Of course it was you. - Henrietta!
No. All this "I-don't-know-where-I-am
or-who-my-son-stuff" is, is officially not cute anymore.
You ruined the one good thing I had.
The one thing I didn't ruin myself, but of course I did
because I thought it was a good idea to give you one more chance.
- Where is Crackerjack? - Stop.
You are out of chances.
What?
Hey, BoJack, great news!
- Bad time. Can't talk. - Wait, just listen...
Thank you for holding, Mr. Horseman.
I understand you're interested in our facility
and wanted our first available room.
No, I said "worst available room."
FYI, we keep these blinds down
because the window looks out at a Dumpster.
- Noted. - You know...
You kick me a little coin right now,
I can make sure your mother is very well taken care of.
Oh! In that case,
please watch me not reach for my wallet.
Well, this is your life now.
This is what it all added up to.
You, by yourself, in this room.
Best of luck. See ya never.
Who is that?
Ugh. Bye, Mom.
BoJack?
- Synced and corrected by medvidecek007 - - www.addic7ed.com -