My name is Marty Kaan,
and I'm a management consultant.
Are we billing MetroCap for this?
Duh. Wow, supermom.
You know, he still loves me,
even if I forget to love him.
Marty Kaan? -Yeah.
Greg Norbert. -Greg Norbert.
Our pod, in particular, represents
a loss of his entire life.
I was squirting, Greg!
I'm my own man!
Oh!
We're paying out the ass for top-tier consulting firms,
so why not acquire one? You will be ours.
He's gonna want to shove you out without a parachute.
And it's gonna be a bumpy landing.
Give me some cover on that...
Why the fuck would I do that?
Still not sure exactly what it is I do?
Nah, you get it.
I wouldn't dream of talking down to you like that.
Fucking Utah.
Three days in fucking Utah.
Sinking your teeth into the P&Ls
of a budget motel chain-- that's gotta get your dick hard.
They're all so goddamn friendly.
Which is bad?
Yeah, because it's bullshit.
Those are "fuck you" smiles.
Or worse, ifs some opening gambit for them
to brag about their snowboarding prowess.
They're always fresh off the slopes.
They're just dying to tell you about some awesome encounter
they had with a half pipe or a powder run.
Fucking Utah.
Are you seriously gonna make me say this?
Say what?
You're good.
In a fight between Greg Norbert and Marty Kaan,
the smart money--
all the fucking money“ is on you.
Whatever comes of this potential merger,
you're good.
I'm not concerned.
Yeah, you just thought
you'd plop yourself down there
and bitch about Utah.
I'm not concerned about Metrocapital.
You shouldn't be,
because you are good.
Unless you screw up.
Then it's a whole new ballgame.
Ladies and gentlemen,
once again, we are boarding passengers...
The first Stay Rite was built in 1965 by Lester Butterfield
as a no-frills alternative
to the increasingly upscale Holiday inns.
By the time he had turned the reins over
to his son Brant in 1990,
Stay Rites were in 28 states.
Under his son's leadership, 28 turns to 46.
Now, I would rather blow a dead donkey
than stay in one of these places,
but they're undeniably profitable.
So then why are we there?
Oh, my God, are you serious?
Okay, fine, because the new CFO wants
to either boost revenues and/or cut costs
to prove to Brant Butterfield that he chose wisely.
Are you happy?
Yeah, you're not as blonde as you look. -It's disgusting.
Oh, you're overreacting! So what, I don't scrub
three-quarters of the way up my elbow
for 20 minutes the way you do.
Doug, you didn't wash your hands at all. -So?
This guy spends 15 excruciating minutes in a stall, leaves
the bathroom without giving the sink a cursory glance.
Oh, you did not just stick that nasty hand in those olives.
Are you nuts?
Do you want one?
Get out of here, fecal fingers.
Put 'em on your side of the table.
Four shots of Patron, please.
No, leave me out of that.
Just a diet Coke, please.
What? What am I doing?
This isn't about me. This is about you.
You have bathroom issues.
I don't have bathroom issues.
Yeah, you do. You have bathroom issues.
Jeannie, you're really gonna need something
a little stiffer than that, okay?
Because for the next three days we are knee-deep in Mormons.
Optics: how things look to the client.
We are basically telling companies to change the way
they've been doing business forever.
And who the fuck are we?
Just some people they met a few days ago.
All they have to go on is what they can see.
And what they need to see is people
who have their best interests at heart.
People who are just like them.
Especially when we're selling them a mountain of bullshit.
Don't drink around these people, okay?
And do not fucking swear, okay? -I won't.
If the subject of church comes up, you share how
your time in that youth group
or music ministry changed your life.
It did.
If the subject of wives comes up,
you can bet that my Medusa
black hole ex-wife is gonna be magically transformed
into Suzie Fuckin' Homemaker.
Mmm.
She is the wind beneath my wings.
She's the source of my strength. -Right.
When in Rome, bitches!
Mmm!
Four, four more. -No.
The Butterfields have built an excellent company,
but the reason why I brought you guys... -Oh!
You okay? -Yeah, just a little
snowboarding thing this weekend.
Wait a minute. Do you snowboard?
I love snowboarding!
Man, I was just up at Mammoth Saturday.
Cab seven over a 20-foot tabletop.
Wikipedia, motherfucker.
I hit the flat hard.
Like, oh! Just bit it.
Oh, man, I have been there, home slice.
Hey, soldiers in the war, right? -Tell me about it.
And since hospitality is our business,
we have you set up in here.
No way! Look at this natural light!
Look at those windows!
Clementines? -Oh, yeah.
Sorry to interrupt, Paul,
our call is starting, so...
Okay. Everyone, this is Rebecca Pfrommer.
She's Stay Rite's marketing prodigy.
Oh, well, I think"prodigy" might be
a little bit of an overstatement.
Okay, I'll say "genius."
Client dinner tomorrow night, and you and I are gonna share
some war stories from the slopes.
That's a promise, buddy.
Wow, that is a one hot piece of Mormon ass.
Guys, we all saw it, so we can talk about it.
She was smiling at me.
She was smiling at all of us.
At your faces, yes,
but she was smiling at my cock.
You really are a dickhead.
I sure am.
Rebecca! Hey.
Hi.
I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before.
I'm Clyde.
Nice to meet you.
Listen, I don't know many people here in Utah,
so I figured maybe you and I can get a drink tonight.
Oh, well, I don't drink.
All right, okay.
But, um, I do eat dinner.
Oh, my God! Guys, uh, these things are seedless.
I'm not kidding! And there's a purple one over there.
Oh, my God, it's fruit. Calm the fuck down.
Well, heard you Galweather folks were here giving my family's
pride and joy the once-over.
I'm Brant Butterfield. You must be Marty.
Oh, God, no. I wish.
Oh... Guys, I'm straight on fire today.
Oh, Marty.
Clyde, actually.
Marty Kaan.
Nice to meet you.
Of course.
Well, I look forward to working with you, Marty.
Thank you, sir.
So, Brant Butterfield. Racist?
Why would you say that?
Hates the color of your skin.
So, listen, he's not gonna want to hear a word out of my mouth
except for the best way to shine a shoe
or the optimal way to load luggage into a Pullman car, so...
Marty, I can take it if you want. -Come on.
He thought I was you first.
You're gonna quarterback this one, Jeannie.
You want me to quarterback? -If you're up for it.
Not even considering us.
Yes, definitely. I am up for it. -Right.
Listen, um, if you shit the bed on this one,
you are gonna get a one-way ticket right back
to whatever bumfuck whistle-stop you came from
and are working so hard to scrub from your existence.
We straight?
Mm-hmm. -Okay.
Thanks for the support. Doug, Clyde, I want you to see
if there's a journey line in their quarterlies.
And Marty, I'm gonna need you to get started on the brain dump.
Have a good one, buddy.
Thank you.
I don't understand what you're doing here, Monica.
Well, Roscoe said that you had
a funeral in Sacramento.
So, after I overcame my initial disappointment
and shock that it wasn't yours
I decided to clear my schedule.
Well, we have a lovely lady coming to take care of Roscoe.
She'll be here any minute.
Actually, she won't.
What do you want?
My trip to Fiji got cancelled last-minute,
so I decided, "What the hell?"
You didn't answer my question.
You know, I figured out
why it is you hate me so much, Jeremiah.
'Cause you're toying with my son,
you ignore yours.
And you are the perfect poster girl for narcissism.
It's because you want to fuck me.
Roscoe!
Your mother's here!
You don't associate Utah with sushi,
but honestly, it was pretty decent.
Although, Rebecca ordered the tempura,
which is obviously a turn-off, but...
Who cares? Did you get in her pants?
Doug Guggenheim, I got in her shirt.
That's not a thing.
Oh, ifs definitely a thing.
It's not a thing. Not when you're a grown-up.
She's a devout Mormon, which means
she doesn't do this. She's a virgin.
Wait a minute. Actual virgin or technical virgin?
What does that even mean?
Uh, rear entry is
a very common practice for women who want to keep
their, uh, temple pristine.
And you know this how?
Trust me. I know.
Oh, you've never had anal.
Oh, I've had anal.
Receiving doesn't count, Doug.
Come on!
Oh, Jeannie!
Boom. -Boom?
Presuming you're right,
which I'm not, but presuming you are--
how do you even broach the subject? Like, what do you say?
Yeah.
"Oh, God, I want to be inside you so much, girl.
No. I just wish there were some way around
them... pesky rules. Wow.
And you have to say it like a '90s R&B singer with a lisp?
Don't have to. But it helps.
Do you know what would work for me? What?
If we shared a really good bottle of wine,
and then, um, he kissed me gently
but soulfully. Of course.
And... kind of
caressed my hair, and then
whispered sweetly,
"I would really love your feces on my dick."
Do you get... now you got feces on your dick?
Come on, she's messing with your head, dude.
MY People:
It turns out we are not consulting for Stay Rite.
No, no. We have stumbled into the corporate offices
of Shangri-goddamn-La.
They should change the sign.
The employees are thrilled to be working here.
And the customers...
A couple months back, a businessman came to stay
right here at the Stay Rite in Salt Lake City.
Found it overbooked.
So the CEO offers him a room in his house.
No. What? Yeah.
Cooks him waffles in the morning.
Who the fuck are these people?
Uh, well, it gets worse.
They are in amazing shape financially.
I-I can't fault them.
They've got the best KPls I've ever seen.
So we're screwed. We're not screwed.
Well, let's not... I got this, okay? It...
There's a crack somewhere. There's always a crack,
and I'll find it. I've looked. Jeannie, I've looked.
There's no crack. What if there's not a crack? Then we'll get
a fucking sledgehammer, Doug, and make one.
So how come you didn't go to Fiji?
Because the dickhead that I'm dating
decided to take his ugly wife instead.
You shouldn't say "dickhead."
Yeah, well, he shouldn't be one.
I listen to him rattle on and on and on
about how even though he makes hundreds of millions of dollars,
he just can't live up to his daddy's expectations of him.
I arrange an internship
for his fat as fuck daughter.
I even let him f...
Do you know what a "golden shower" is?
When it's sunny and it rains?
Oh, that's magical.
I earned that trip to Fiji.
First-class airfare, cost of that villa,
food... oh, the incidentals.
We are talking about, I don't know... roughly $16,000.
And that is a conservative monetization.
Still, breaking into his house and stealing?
Uh-uh. Appropriating replacement value, sweetie.
And it is not breaking in when you have the pass code.
See?
I mean, normally I wouldn't do
a backside rodeo on a dry slope, but...
But you're a complete airdog.
Guilty.
Hey, so, listen, I've heard some rumblings about Metrocapital...
Oh. Well, you've done your homework.
But you've probably also heard
that that whole merger's effectively DOA.
No, I hadn't.
But great. Good.
When I was a kid, we went to Spain.
It was incredible. -I love Spain.
Really? -The beaches, the museums,
the people-- they're called Spaniels, right?
You are so cute.
It's my gift... my curse.
You know, you might even get lucky tonight.
What? When you say "lucky," what does that mean?
Well...
Hmm...
It's pomegranate juice. -Oh.
Helps lower the cholesterol level. -You know what?
I also have concerns about my arterial health.
Oh. Somebody's been a bad little Mormon.
I'm not actually Mormon.
Although I may have led Brant to believe that I am.
You sly motherfucker.
I might even be Jewish.
I'm sure Brant loves the Chosen People.
You know, you'd be surprised how often
someone's trying to Jew him on the price.
Shit!
L'chaim!
Well, we're still sifting through the data, but we have some initial thoughts.
A good starting-off point would be to segment your customer base.
We actually tried that about two years ago.
It ended up being a, uh,
waste of time.
There's a lot of opportunity for re-targeting online...
Yeah, we tried it. -Um...
a lot of travel industry businesses
find success with loyalty programs.
Mm-hmm. -Which you've tried. Obviously.
Yeah. Excuse me one sec, will you?
I knew it; I knew it! Huh? What'd I tell you?
Are you pumped?
Are you kidding me? I'm about to go nuts on that.
Right?
Damn, big meal, too.
Whew That should make things fun tonight.
What does that even... what does that mean?
Nothing. Doesn't mean anything.
Forget I said anything. Yeah.
Oh, my God... and corn?
You know what they say about corn.
No. -You never really own it,
you just borrow it.
Shut up, Doug. You don't know what you're talking about.
That's it, good girl, get every last kernel.
Well, good luck. -Yep.
Hey, hey. You want to get out of here?
And get into some fun? No, I want to stay here.
Okay. Yeah.
Jeannie, the CFO and I
are gonna go, uh, talk strategy. You got this?
Yeah. I'm making inroads. -Cool.
You don't want dessert?
Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.
I think I found something.
De la Renta couture.
Nice.
You look amazing, Mom.
Come here.
We still have a pretty big chunk of change left.
Any thoughts?
Well, I did see some sweet Jimmy Choo ankle boots in the closet.
But they're only, like, $800 tops.
Yeah, that's not enough.
I'm thinking art.
Mm-hmm. -There's this Egon Schiele
he was always bragging about, like he painted it himself.
If I was a Schiele, where would I be?
Well, are you coming or not?
Let's go!
Hey, uh...
Hey, do you think Clyde is in yet?
I cannot tell you how little I feel like
discussing Clyde having anal sex right now.
Uh...
no, I bet he's in. Yeah.
Yeah, definitely.
What if it expands?
I mean, it would have to, right?
How else do you...? -The company. What if...
they launch a new brand of boutique motels that offers
the competitive pricing that Stay Rite is known for,
but appeals to a higher-end market?
Okay. Yeah. I'll start working the numbers.
Is everything okay?
Everything is amazing.
I just have to use the bathroom first.
You have corn... in your teeth.
No... Oh, that won't do it, 'cause there's a ton of it.
Stop it. -Ah...
Don't go anywhere while I'm gone, okay?
Why would I go anywhere? You gonna be in there for a while?
You are funny.
You didn't answer the question.
I can't do this.
Nope. Nope, can't do this.
I'm not gonna fuck a shitty ass.
No. No way. No way.
Schiele is considered
one of the early champions of Expressionism.
What do you think?
It's kind of creepy.
Oh...
Yeah, okay, yeah, I could see
how you see disturbing, right?
Maybe even a little grotesque.
But...
I mean, there's-there's still some beauty in there.
Isn't there?
Yeah.
So, I'm going to go to bed. Why?
It's 3:00 in the morning, and I have school today.
You can skip.
I am not going to tell anybody.
Good night, Mom. No, don't go.
Baby...
What do you think about Special K?
It's not the breakfast cereal.
It's got a little more kick, huh?
What?
I don't know what you're saying.
I'll be right back.
That's it?
Are you kidding me?
There is no way this company changes its true north
for, at best, a marginal gain in profits.
Jeannie, no fucking way.
Marty, I can... No fucking way.
I can get the buy-in, Marty.
Trust me, I can get it. Yeah, you know what?
I can get it. Your cheerleader pluck,
it's very adorable,
and it will quite likely create
a lasting image in Brant Butterfield's spank bank,
but you present him with a brand extension strategy,
Jeannie, he will shake your hand,
give you one long last look to lock in that mental picture,
and then you're out of there.
Thank you for your time.
I can up the danger factor.
I can tweak the PowerPoint. I... -Listen. Yeah, yeah.
I'm talking-- yeah, I'm talking.
You're not hearing me.
I know you came all the way out here for Daddy
to give you a, "Atta girl, cupcake,"
but Daddy ain't giving you that, 'cause this is shit.
Now, you got...
Okay, you don't have a lot of time
before the big show, so I suggest
you don't waste time standing around
looking like you're about to fucking cry.
Whoa, what are you doing now?
You got to taste this.
Okay.
I'll taste mine.
So I have to be at school in 20 minutes.
I can call a cab.
I got about 51 seconds sleep last night,
and there is not a coffee pot
in this entire place.
Yeah, well, Mormons don't do coffee.
That's right.
You should have gotten one from the hotel.
Thank you.
Don't drink all of it. -Ugh!
What is that, hazelnut? -God... Great.
Jeannie? -Yeah?
You stuck with brand extension?
Yes. No guts, no glory, right?
Right. Yeah.
Hey, it's been a pleasure working with you, so...
Yep. Yeah. -Stay in touch.
Dead man walking!
Hey, Rebecca.
Hey.
Did you seriously not fuck her in the ass?
You are such a pussy.
Demographic and psychographic shifts
in the Gen X and Millennials
have turned them into LOCs--
luxury-oriented consumers.
They're not rich, but they want to feel rich.
And when they travel, they want to see flat-screen TVs.
They want to see modern furniture. Glass shower doors,
granite countertops.
If we don't proact
by aggressively expanding into new brands,
you're looking at receivership and possibly bankruptcy.
That's a bit alarmist, don't you think?
Excuse me.
Got a hair ball, kitty?
Sorry. Am I wrong here?
When I was nine years old,
my dad gave me a Polaroid camera--
roughly around the same time your dad
gave you this fine company to run--
and I loved that thing.
I must have taken 1,000 pictures with it.
Polaroid sold its first instant camera in 1948,
and at its peak in 1978, they sold 13 million units.
And in 2001, they filed Chapter 11.
They made a very common mistake.
They thought the past was the future.
Now, maybe what we're prescribing is alarmist,
but maybe, if someone had sounded the alarm
at Polaroid 15 years ago,
my camera wouldn't be sitting in a closet collecting dust
'cause they don't make film for it anymore.
It's a big shift.
Not as big as watching a series of wrecking balls
lay waste to your father's legacy.
Timber.
Okay, let's do this.
Kitty.
Who's got the big dick now?
Uh, actually,
hang on a second.
That number seems off to me.
Uh-oh.
The most dreaded words a consultant can hear.
One bad number throws all your numbers into question.
Everything up to that point doesn't matter.
All the client can see is an incompetent boob
with 40 PowerPoint pages full of garbage.
That spending figure strikes me as high.
Where... where did you get that?
L---
That's FCA.
From Calvin's ass.
Calvin Sobel is something of a consulting legend.
The term's an homage,
and when uttered with absolute certainty,
it is a surprisingly effective answer to,
"Where'd you get that number?"
It's also FMA.
From my ass.
You want to take a look at these?
Please.
Hey, Marty, don't you also have those documents
from the White House's Special K Commission?
The what?
Uh, they are in there.
You should maybe check those
just to make sure that everything is,
uh... kosher.
I feel good about that number.
What about you, Jeannie?
You, uh... you like these numbers?
Give me a fucking break.
Yes, sir, I have those same numbers right here.
I'm-I'm sorry for interrupting, Mr. Butterfield.
Sometimes I just don't know my place.
Ah, it's not a problem, son.
Doug.
Can I sit here for a second?
Uh... yeah.
Yeah, yeah.
Hey.
I'm sorry. Were you asleep?
Is there a problem?
You know you came this close to dicking us over out there?
Uh, I know scored us six months of afterwork.
You know, with this potential merger coming up,
all of our asses are on the line?
You understand that?
Wasn't a rhetorical question, baby doll.
Do you understand that'?
Yes, I understand.
And I also realize
that that bad number might have sunk us.
You're goddamn right. But the only reason
that our asses are on the line, Marty,
is because of you.
Because you have so little control
over your behavior.
Because you could not resist
slapping around Greg Norbert's manhood,
such as it is.
You are the only reason
that this potential merger exists.
And by the way, please, let's stop kidding ourselves--
it's not a merger; it's a goddamn acquisition.
Now... now, here comes the fun part for me.
Whether I like it or not
my fortunes are tied to yours.
Which means I'm also in the crosshairs.
Which means you dicked me over, asshole.
Okay?
And you know what?
Another thing.
I might possibly be the last person on the planet
who has known you longer than five minutes
and actually likes you, and all you do is shit on me.
So you know what?
Fuck you.
What's up?
You all right?