Fuck!
Some day yesterday, Cass.
Yesterday was a three-ring circus.
I'm going to be with my Father today.
My Father has more big and huge for me.
Without the zeros and ones, Cass,
big and huge won't mean dick.
Work here.
Two-stop bus ride, Dwayne, from lurking outside the door
to fucking turning into a full-blown homo.
Can I come in?
No, stay the fuck outside.
Still brooming the spider webs off our website?
1244 hits.
1244 hits in, like, 24 hours.
No shit.
It's the halo effect from Shaun.
Far out.
Bottom line, I think Shaun needs his own site.
Well, he's already on MyTube, or whatever the fuck you call it.
A site, Butchie,
commercial portal capacity,
like five years ahead of the curve
I thought to put in yours and you never fucking exploited.
You think that's where it all went wrong...
me not exploiting my portal capacity?
No, I'm not talking about you at all, Butchie.
I'm just saying, if Shaun doesn't do it,
whoever sponsors him will,
and he'll end up getting used like some street whore.
Does any of that sound familiar to you?
I guess that makes sense.
Well, you oughta go talk to him, and now's a good time
'cause Mitch is at the Restoration Center.
Or whatever the fuck he's doing in Mexico.
I don't suppose you'd like to come with me.
Nah, I got a butt plug exploiting my portal.
What the fuck am I gonna say to him, Dwayne?
Yeah, okay.
In case he doesn't understand how I talk was all.
Fuck, I used to work at the U.N., baby.
Now I'll have to cancel my many previous engagements.
- Yeah, I'll have to cancel all of mine too. - That's right.
Where are we looking? I'll meet you.
Dwayne, Dwayne, Dwayne!
Some gangbanger will hit you upside the head
and I'll have to collect you with a spoon and blotter.
So don't even try to live green?
You got it, my brother.
Hey, Janie.
Aww.
- Good or bad? - Good.
Everything's good.
Good enough to get his boards out of storage?
That's why I'm here.
See that?
Imperial Beach, who's been here before?
A funky little beach town,
a lot of history for our sport.
Now...
oh, my friend, spread that food around.
If you see any hungry conventioneers coming through here, feed 'em.
- Fires? - No fires,
learning opportunities.
Wonder Boy... e- commerce bitchfest.
Tremendous learning opportunities.
We're rolling out those P.O.P. Incentives.
Which you think is money pissed away.
A wise man once told me that "core shops are Stinkweed's soul. "
Did you believe him?
We upped the incentives to 4%.
Year-to-date, domestic's nearly level,
- down. 3%... - Hmm.
...within the parameters of plan.
International's 14 above plan.
Eastern Europe's a minor disappointment.
- China's on plan. - Stalemate on that trademark headache.
Latin America stays a pleasant surprise.
The Brazilians have a boner for our shoes.
Really? You got a boner?
Let me check.
Break.
They start wearing suits or we do.
What happened in Huntington, Jake?
I thought that's what we'd be talking about in there.
I thought we would have talked about it before we went in there.
I don't know, dude... the fucking traffic, you know?
Shaun Yost.
At Huntington, Shaun Yost won.
He wiped out and hurt himself at the end of the heat.
The doctor was wrong how bad.
I was there when they brought him out of the water.
He was drowned. He broke his neck.
How is he alive? A miracle?
I agreed he could be the next one.
All the family downside, I agreed we'd go after him hard.
A miracle... half our base runs the other way.
Do we make that up selling at shrines?
I'm here to try to figure that out.
And I'm your hire, Linc.
I'm supposed to tell you when people aren't happy.
Some people never are. Tell them to go fuck themselves.
Yeah, I thought I wouldn't do that till after they bought us out.
Let's go deal with these clones.
Can I hang a couple days?
I get you to Tijuana, the kid can hear our confession.
Lucky coincidence.
Are we happy, Wonder Boy,
when domestic sales are level?
Level is on plan for the quarter.
Wait a second... treading water is getting ready to drown.
- The salmon makes me thirsty. - Get a drink.
Level's on plan 'cause domestic's a maturing market.
And do we suppose that domestics have matured due to e-commerce?
I don't know how you'd measure correlation.
We don't have an M.C. Paradigm?
No.
So what will you do, grab your balls and guess?
Did I do something to piss you off?
- Eat your buffet. - I'd like to sit down.
Go ahead.
You call that sitting down?
I want to go back to the table.
This is why I hired Wonder Boy...
he just comes right from his fucking gut.
- What are we doing here, Linc? - I'm not 100% clear.
Maybe you'd like to Google it and find out.
If this is a referendum on information technology,
- our target demographic's for it. - Oh, so that ship has sailed?
The best we can do is hope to jump onboard?
Does that summarize your position?
If you're treading water, you're getting ready to drown.
If I'm treading water, fuckface,
I am not swimming toward a ship that has set sail
and begging them to pull me in their dinghy.
If I got a surfboard beside me, I'm getting on that fucker
and I'm paddling out, turning around
and flipping the bird to all the assholes on that ship.
And maybe 3% of them weren't sure
they ever wanted to be on that boat to begin with.
And some of them... they're diving off.
Now them... them, I give them a big fucking smile,
I ride up to them on my board
and say, "Hey, how would you like to buy one just like it?
Or my jockstrap or my boardshorts,
wetsuit, ski jacket, snowboard
that I always take with me when I'm surfing?
I am such a tremendous
boardshort-wetsuit-ski-jacket-snowboard ripper. "
What I'm not is a fucking asshole
with allergies trapped on a boat
or jerking off to the internet
like 97% of my target demographic.
And the upside for me is,
I like being on the water.
So if you're not too salty from your salmon,
maybe I can interest you in a little ham.
- Give me a fucking break. - Okay, we're done.
I'll be in Imperial Beach till further notice.
I'll tell you something else:
That kid was saved by a miracle.
What room is she in?
244.
Yeah, it's your wife, Mitch,
Cissy Yost.
Well, if you're not dead, just a quick message to go fuck yourself
for not checking in to say you're all right.
And have loads of fun
on whatever beach or whatever astral plane you're on.
Hi.
Use the cafe across the street.
Excuse me?
Our toilets are for employees. Go across the street.
My question, or my desire, was...
how long has that ink store been open?
We don't sell bongs.
We don't sell incense or rolling papers.
A good reputation, that Pete, hmm?
No fatalities?
We're not a walk-in clinic.
The salamander was highly valued
in certain...
extinct island tribes.
God damn it!
My name is Mark Lewinsky. I'm an attorney.
- Is this some slip-and-fall bullshit? - Hardly, madam.
Am I pointing at my neck?
Is it painfully swollen and inflamed?
It's red.
Tattoo... a tribute to my employer,
possibly... fatal.
I am a counsel for Mercy Hospital,
the place that saved your grandson's life,
and I just need one signature to close Shaun's file.
All right, give me a pen.
Certainly.
Merest of formalities...
departure against medical advice.
Here I go. Here I go.
Take off.
You won't have to ask me twice.
Get out. You're giving me a bad fucking feeling.
Can't we at least accomplish our little bit of wrist business here?
Get out of my store or you're gonna get kicked in the balls.
Fine. Fine.
- Ma, is that you? - Shut up.
They sent me home, Ma.
Principal sent me home.
Strange way to show your appreciation, Mrs. Yost,
to the hospital that saved your grandson.
Bill's bird saved my grandson.
And I'm showing this form to Meyer Dickstein.
Oh yeah, the Errol Flynn look-alike on the back cover of the Yellow Pages.
Oh, you sure you wanna go there, Frankenstein?
Oh...
You got anybody I could call?
No, I can boil my own toast.
Yeah?
I'm a friend of Linc Stark's.
And?
And I work for him.
I'm vice president of his company, Jake Phort.
What do you want from me?
Linc's having some sort of midlife crisis.
And you're here to help him through it?
10:30 in the morning, no wonder they're going broke.
Hey, where is everyone?
She opened up and then she split
with some little guy in her car.
What's going on, Shaunie?
Nothing. The shop's locked up.
Put the joint out.
You know Dwayne?
How's it going?
- How's it going, Shaun? - Dwayne wants to talk to you
about some informational superhighway shit.
Could we do it another time?
- Give us a second, Dwayne. - We can do it another time.
Stand by the bicycles.
Hey, what's the matter with talking to him now?
I don't feel like it.
Don't give me that smart look
when you're sitting here smoking when someone wants to help you.
That guy from Stinkweed wanted to help.
You wouldn't let me sign with him.
The fuck if I wouldn't. Who told you that?
I haven't seen Linc Stark since you got hurt, Shaun.
It's been a busy couple of days.
So are you saying I can sign with them?
Little weed on your brain, you get a real smartass tone of voice going.
That guy looks like a tool.
That's just great, Shaunie. Hurt a person's feelings comes looking to help you.
I didn't say it so he could hear.
Why don't you just leave me alone?
Yeah, good, great, fine, okay? If I see Linc Stark,
I'll tell him to come sign you.
Oh yeah, I forgot, you signed me over to Gram and Gramps.
Tell him to go talk to them.
Yeah, good. Let me get away.
Me being a fuck-up doesn't mean I shouldn't try to give you good advice.
Is my mom staying in I. B?
I don't know.
Maybe you could give her some good advice and ask her to stay.
He'll be all right.
Yeah, looks like he's doing great.
That little pisspot.
So what should we do now?
Well, Dwayne, I guess you're gonna get
your dipshit scooter out of my van.
Yeah, we can work this out later.
And I'm gonna get good and fucking high.
Where are you, Kai? The shop's locked.
Shaunie's out back smoking weed.
Find a fucking shorter jingle!
Room service?
A really good friend of yours wants to pay me to ruin your life.
Doesn't work.
Doesn't work either.
Is it chilly in here, Ma?
He's burning up...
maybe from your hot garlic breath.
Why don't you get out of the line of fire?
Well, twist my fucking arm.
Boss, purple salamander,
honoring a certain someone.
If yours hadn't have come out green,
I'd be having mine burned off
as to not get us took for the Bobbsey Twins.
I was poisoned and miscolored?
- Right up here. - Excuse me.
Okay, we have docked.
Is that the torturing murderer that casted my wrist?
It's me, Palaka.
I am fucked up, Doc, to a fare-thee-well.
Hey, thank God me and you became friends, huh?
- Yeah. - What does he need?
- I'll run to the pharmacy. - Let's get him examined first.
What is that?
There.
When did you get that tattoo, Palaka?
Uh, today, yeah.
- When did he get this? - He told you... today.
Yeah, I'm asking when.
He came in my store, like, an hour ago,
said he'd just got inked.
We're gonna need to get some antibiotics into you.
Won't be the first time, Doc.
I been batting clean-up since Little League.
We're gonna need more room.
Here, come here. Come on.
This wall does need to come out.
Come on. Get out of the way. Put him in my room.
I have an account around the corner.
- CVS? - I'm happy to get that filled.
No, he needs an I.V. And a few other things.
I want to see what they have stocked.
You thinking of going anytime soon?
I understand you're concerned.
I'm not concerned.
I'll tell you when I'm fucking concerned.
Nice working with you.
Tommy Turtle's a blur compared to that fuckhead.
Wile E. Coyote's a blur. The Road Runner's a fucking blur.
Just shut your mouth, okay?
You're going to be fine.
Thanks, Ma.
Hello! Hello. Come in.
Just missed feeding time.
Birdseed.
Can I offer you a soda?
Twinkies?
- No, thanks. - I see.
Birds are good.
I wish Zippy wouldn't have kissed me.
Okay.
Hey, okay.
Okay, goodness' sakes.
Oh, I can't see.
And I wouldn't understand it anyway.
What did Mitch think?
Mitch is maintaining radio silence.
Fucking Dickstein will know what to do.
Probably in some ashram in the downward dog position.
Hello.
How are you?
Why would they want me to sign that?
She's already showed it to me, fuckin' douche bag.
- Butchie's fucking Kai's brains out. - Good.
Not that anyone comes in, she's never at fucking work.
Shaunie could use spending time with her.
His buddies still teasing him after the accident?
This is a boilerplate for you.
The doctor's the sacrificial lamb.
Typically, the halo effect in these documents
bathes the physician in the hospital's light.
This absolves the hospital, but your right of action
against the doctor is not impaired.
The harelip's going on and on about what he's talking about.
- What harelip? - I've warned him off talking about
- miracles until the altar boys are safe. - What harelip?
That sits there every day, Dickstein,
pretending to make a life out of maintaining Butchie's website.
And he's so excited how Shaunie's accident
affected his halo effect, whatever the fuck he's on about,
I'm afraid to let him out on the street
on that stupid scooter he fucking drives.
The number of hits on Butchie's site...
the halo effect.
What the fuck was I just saying?
43 days in arrears.
82 days in arrears for you.
I got an arrears for you right here, Doris.
Don't let anything happen to that doctor.
That may not be in our hands.
How do you live in here?
Oh, thank you.
Soup-to-nuts renovation in the offing.
Well, you oughta off it pretty fucking soon.
I'll use this rollaway in case what you got is transferable.
I'll bring in fresh sheets.
Stop answering if I'm talking to him.
Don't you fucking die.
Could you tell me your name, where you live
and your marital status?
Tina Blake, Van Nuys, single.
- Van Nuys, California? - Right.
Do you have any children, Tina?
One... Shaun Yost.
I gave him away the day he was born.
And do you know who Shaun's father was?
Yeah, I fucking know who his father is...
Butchie Yost.
I left Shaunie with Butchie's parents.
What do you do for a living?
Adult film actress.
Do you know Linc Stark?
Yes.
- How did you meet him? - He picked me up.
Do you have a contractual arrangement
with Linc Stark involving your son Shaun Yost?
He's offered me a contractual arrangement.
- What are the terms? - $4,000 a month
while Shaun's under contract.
- To Stinkweed? - Yeah.
Have you had sexual relations with Linc Stark?
I'm not gonna talk about that.
Have you ever been arrested?
Yes.
- What was the charge? - Accessory to extortion.
- And did that involve blackmail? - I was acquitted.
- I bet that had to be a big relief. - Are we done?
Can be.
You ever do drugs with Linc?
Are you asking me to fib?
Are you asking me to write you another check?
Al's car is red.
I mean, if he was really sick,
you'd take him to the hospital, right?
I'm trying to remember
how I practiced before I met you.
Was it without a fractured skull?
Some of the ice
is yellow with rust from the machine.
- It's all right. - We don't have to use it.
The yellow is segregated in the silver pail.
Just dump it all in the tub.
Now...
a little pin stick.
Oh, Christ.
How's our patient?
It's a holding action.
We have to let the antibiotics kick in.
Was that all overdone about cigarettes?
No.
In any case, I now have some sense
how the great Astaire felt the day he put on tap shoes.
Well, they're always looking for candy stripers.
Yeah.
What? You're shitting me.
Could I get one of those thimblefuls?
Yes, Ramon.
- Orange juice? - No, thanks.
Or, well, yes.
Thank you.
Excuse me.
Please, Ramon, have another.
And know that I do not rise to your taunt about my cups
because I am all nurse.
Butchie's about to get caught wrong.
Isn't he alone in there?
Got your message... shortened my jingle.
Couldn't find Shaunie.
I copped. I didn't use.
I didn't want to use.
I think it's off me.
Aw, give me a break.
Is it sound judgment, Palaka,
treating you here,
or fear of humiliation?
Resigning my position to shield that boy...
grand self-sacrificial gesture... that was one thing.
I'll go weeks without selling a sherbet.
Not much grandeur for me
steering you into the E.R.
Like some defrocked storefront operator
waiting hat-in-hand for a resident
to decide to admit you.
I pray to God that's not what holds me back.
Now now, Ma.
Let me avoid this lady's tone of voice.
Have you seen Meyer Dickstein?
No, ma'am.
He hasn't arrived yet.
Are they fucking in there?
Hard to say.
What an hour has wrought.
Water, sand and mud when you delivered our patient...
now about to become concrete.
How is that guy?
Well, we are waiting for the antibiotics to kick in.
Are they fucking in there?
The merest beginning of our renovation.
I'm looking for Meyer Dickstein.
Yes, well, I haven't seen him.
I saw you out in the water this morning.
Yeah?
I got your boards outside.
Every call I make, afterwards I gotta use cuticle scissors.
##It's Butchie. Leave a message. ##
Butchie, message from Bill Jacks.
Shaunie's over here with me,
so you may wanna call or just, you know, get over here.
Voicemail. Not there.
Now...
here's a book that deals with anniversaries
of people who are dead.
You see? There's various chapters,
helping the bereaved be at ease.
Now what in God's name this has to do with you...
- 13 years old? - 14.
14 years of age.
And thank God you've lost no one
to feel grief over the anniversary of.
Now...
I'd like to say this:
People are sad for various reasons
and sometimes an outside source is required
even to help them know they feel sad...
or if they know,
then offer helpful hints
and suggestions, ways to deal with the problem,
which is why I showed you the book.
Can I be frank with you?
Sure, Bill.
You reek of marijuana smoke.
I smoked a joint today.
And you tell me that without shyness or remorse.
That doctor is about to get an ass-fucking from his hospital.
- Hey, Cissy. - Yeah, good to see ya.
I remember when we used to meet at work.
I feel like a duck at as shooting gallery.
Hey, Ma.
Hid 'em before I could sell 'em.
Shaunie's over here with me,
so you may wanna call or just, you know, get over here.
It's Bill. Shaun's there.
I may take a ride over there.
Did you tell the doctor?
No. Go ahead.
About the ass-fucking?
- Whoa whoa whoa. - Don't do nothing stupid, Doc.
No, he needs to be in that ice bath.
If that's what he needs, then the regular doctors
- will ice him at the fucking hospital. - I am a regular doctor,
and these are just the several hours
that your friend shouldn't be subjected to the disruptions
involved in being admitted to a hospital
to resume treatment he's already getting.
Fuck you. Open the fucking door.
Oh, another county heard from.
You're fucking lucky I got my hands full.
Take him back inside.
Thanksgiving. Make a wish.
All your smartass fucking talk...
it was me that broke his fucking wrist.
It was a dirty needle got your friend sick, not a broken wrist.
Stop trying to force an outcome 'cause you're upset for your friend.
Quick review... how to put people at their ease?
I'm good.
Upstairs. Talk amongst yourselves.
Twinkies, soda and the like.
- Hey, Dad. - Hey, Shaunie.
Where's Bill?
He went upstairs.
Oh, right on.
You can go ahead and sit down, Dad.
Pretty pissed?
Hit me, buddy. Come on.
I want to go back to normal.
I'm with you, brother.
What's fucked up about it is,
as much as it pisses you off, the hand that you were dealt ain't going anywhere...
mine, your Gram's, Gramps's.
My mom's.
Or your mom's or any-fucking-body else's.
So fighting it only gets your ass kicked.
So if you can learn that now instead of 20 years from now,
fuck.
You know, just smack me in the back of the head.
I've been thinking about getting in the water.
You've been going out.
Getting in the way I used to.
Competing?
I don't know. I guess, maybe.
You wanna run by Gram's and grab your stuff,
trade a few, see who busts bigger?
If you can handle being dusted.
That's not gonna be an issue, grom.
Thanks for the room, Bill.
Shaun and I are gonna go get wet.
Fine. Good.
- Thanks, Bill. - Fine.
Stinkweed's in great shape.
You're the fucking mess.
Linc, the money wants you out.
I'm your friend.
You made the company. I'd like to see you go
with your pockets full, but...
you are going, Linc.
Buy you out, throw you out,
blow you out...
they'll play it the way it fucking lays.
Yeah, I fucking know
who his father is... Butchie Yost.
I left Shaunie with Butchie's parents.
And what do you do for a living?
Adult film actress.
- Do you know Linc Stark? - Yes.
- How did you meet him? - He picked me up.
And do you have a contractual arrangement with Linc Stark
involving your son Shaun Yost?
He's offered me a contractual arrangement.
She's his mother. The company wants him.
I don't want to have to play the rest of the tape for you, Linc.
Go ahead.
No. I've been your friend too long.
Maybe it's what I need to hear. Do what you gotta do.
No, Linc. I want you to leave the company
so I can give you the tape.
You can do whatever the fuck you want with it
and you can walk away rich.
Are you asking me to fib?
Are you asking me to write you another check?
'Cause I will if you will.
Isn't that a felony in this state...
offering someone money to lie?
What's their number to buy me out?
$35 million.
$65.
With a five-year no-compete...
and you give me that tape.
Okay.
Money want the yes on tape?
I hope you're not saying they don't trust me.
Watch your back with Wonder Boy.
Pretty lady feeding the birds.
How did that go?
Turned the tables on that cocksucker,
thanks to your wily ways.
Then I agreed to get bought out,
which is what they'd sent him to do.
$65 million.
Bonus is, I get to be scared to death.
Is that a change?
Maybe not. Maybe not.
For a million, can I hold your hand?
When I strike, it's gonna be for the big money.
Cissy Yost.
Hey, Captain Kirk.
You were right about being more miserable.
Getting dusted won't be an issue.
Don't get hit by a bus.
"I know I am getting better and stronger
when I can be alone at home
even though the person who died is no longer there. "
Where else am I gonna be?
"Memories of the person who died
make me smile, not cry. "
Well, that one's easier said than done.
"I laugh at my friends' stupid jokes. "
I don't have any friends.
"I make stupid jokes. "
Well, I try to amuse the kid.
I mean I'm not a comedian.
"M.D."... it's not like I'm a doctor or anything.
Dale, veni, dale.
- What's that? - I don't know.
Okay, this is for free,
for nothing.
Shape changer.
Oh, yeah?
If they weren't looking to embarrass the poor girl,
they'd blur out where her dress came up.
Gracias, gracias.
Oh, gracias.
Oh, si. Gracias.
Salud.
Shaun will soon be gone.
How much is that worth?
'Cause the big money is staying in escrow
for whoever can tell me what the fuck is going on.