01x00 - Sneak Preview

[bunniefuu]

Man: This is Thomas Jefferson, founding father of my adopted home of America, which I love with all my heart.

But then, f*ck, he had to go and write that line, "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness."

Life, sure. Liberty, I understand the basic concept.

But happiness? I mean, what the f*ck is happiness?

A BMW? 1,000 Facebook friends?

A million Twitter followers? I wish he had been more honest.

I wish he had just said, "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, whatever the f*ck that is."

Just don't keep us guessing, Tom.

Guessing and pursuing and failing.

f*ck you, Thomas Jefferson!

♪ If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands ♪
♪ if you're happy and you know it, clap your hands ♪
♪ if you're happy and you know it, then m*therf*cking show it ♪
♪ if you're happy and you know it, clap your m*therf*cking hands ♪
♪ if you're happy and you know it, clap your hands. ♪

Group: ♪ Happy Birthday to you ♪
♪ Happy Birthday to you ♪
♪ you look like a monkey ♪
♪ And you smell like one, too. ♪

(Cheering)

The game is half over, people..

Here we go.

Speech, speech.

Well, "they give birth astride a grave, the light gleams an instant, then it is night once more."

Half run? Buddy, you're gonna be lucky if you make it to the end of the week.

She's right, dad.

44, that's like a million.

Whoo!

Hey, hey, mom is... mom's almost as old as me.

But mom's pretty.

Thanks, Jules, so much.

Oh! Give it up.

Oh, manners, mister.

Wait, get, get... yeah, have some manners like the adults. Right, Julius?

(Laughing)

Num, num, num!

I have that one.

I have, like, five of that one.

Mine are pretty good, though.

Mine came in a set, so I also have the dragon copter and Sensei Wu.

Yours is junk.

Hey, hey, you know what I've noticed about your kid?

He's an assh*le.

Yes, he's a f*cking assh*le.

I don't know how that happened, but...

So it's not just Julius?

No, no, he's an assh*le to everybody. Kids hate him.

He's an assh*le because his father was an assh*le.

Still. Your ex is still an assh*le.

An assh*le doesn't fall far from the tree.

He'll grow out of it.

I don't think that's the kind of assholeness you outgrow.

We're just hoping for, you know, an average prick. Just a run-of-the-mill d*ck.

I don't know, Thom. Couple years from now, Jules could be an assh*le, too.

I don't think so. A p*ssy, maybe.

Well, I would rather have an assh*le than a p*ssy.

It is tough out there, people.

assh*le's not a bad way to go.

Not a bad way to go.

Come on, lady.

(Women laughing)

Oh, my God.

You ask me, Julius is just too happy.

Too happy?

You make a kid happy in this world, you're setting them up. That's child abuse.

Trust me, Thom. Your only shot at happiness in this world is a miserable childhood. The shittier the better.

That's what I should call my book.

Yeah, "The Joy of Misery" by Thom Payne.

A book?

Yeah.

What's a book?

Yeah, no shit.

(Women laugh)

(Crows cawing)

It's okay. They're watching "Frozen."

See? p*ssy.

Speaking of pussies, Monica is getting hers done.

Her what?

Her p*ssy.

Done?

Tightened.

What the f*ck are you talking about?

What?

She's 37, she's done having kids, she wants a tighter cooch.

That's bullshit. That's totally for Jason.

I don't know. My sister had three kids.

She said she can park her car up in there now.

But like a smart car.

The girl drives a hummer.

Wait a min I want to get this straight.

Her p*ssy is good enough for him to f*ck, good enough for him to eat, good enough to bear his child, now he just wants it tighter?

Think he should just go f*ck himself.

Can he say how tight he wants it?

Well, she's at a beer can now.

So he probably wants, what, a shot glass?

He looks like a pencil d*ck to me.

Maybe she should just go with sharpener.

(Laughing)

Could he go in the surgery and, you know, like test the vag*na?

Yo, Doc, you're close, but can you give it another turn or two?

Oh, my God.

Mr Lesko, I got it down to a 22-year-old.

Legally, I can only go to an 18.

Hey, Doc, while you're down there, can you loosen up her sh*thole?

(Laughter)

Okay, they're coming. They're coming.

Where's the joint?

Thom: "George was a very, very good monkey."

He was also very curious."

And he was a real pain in the butt.

Dad.

He deserved a good slap, somebody to teach him a lesson.

"You can't just steal a spaceship and fly it to the moon, monkey boy."

Dad, read it normal.

Hey, hey. I love you, buddy.

You're old.

I'm not old. I'm... I'm... I'm...

I'm oldish.

Are you going to die?

Am I gonna die? Boy...

You know, the truth is, Julius, I am going to die, but not for a very, very long time.

(High-pitched) First I got to start speaking like this.

(Giggling)

And then I got to start losing my teeth.

Then I got to start pooping in my diapers.

(Squealing)

Hey, how about tomorrow we get burgers at Five Guys, then Funny Farm?

Yes.

Low.

Okay.

You know the drill.

(Woman moaning on laptop)

Man: You like that? Yeah.

Woman: Oh, yeah, baby. f*ck my ass.

There we go. In through the out door.

Come on, take it seriously.

She's in agony.

(Laughs)

She's faking it.

No, she is not faking it.

There's a gigantic cock shoved up her assh*le.

Hang on, you can't say that she's faking the pleasure, but she's not faking it when it's pain.

You got to be consistent. I was watching that.

Oh, I think it's easier to fake pleasure.

Yeah? Well, that's reassuring.

(Laughs)

Is this a birthday present or what?

Porno, shaved pussies.

You know, I read something about Alzheimer's the other day.

(Sighs) Are we gonna f*ck?

It said that not sleeping could be an indicator of early-onset Alzheimer's.

Are we gonna f*ck?

So now I can't sleep because I'm worried that my not sleeping means I have Alzheimer's.

I mean, why are they telling me this?

Is it the not sleeping that causes Alzheimer's or Alzheimer's that makes you not sleep?

I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that information.

(Clears throat)

Do you think my p*ssy needs tightening?

What?

I thought maybe it would be better for you if it was tighter.

Oh, baby, baby, listen. Come here. Hey.

Why bother with you at all?

I could just get a bottle of wine and a blood pressure cuff.

(Laughs)

You know, baby?

It's not... honey, it's not you.

It's the f*cking Prozac it's a hard-on k*ller.

Why don't we just try a Viagra?

They're a client, right?

Keebler gives you all those f*cking cookies.

I'm worried the Viagra will interfere with the Prozac, you know?

That's life.

You know, happy and soft or miserable and hard.

I would be totally fine with miserable and hard.

(Laughs)

Just for the record, if you...

Julius: Mom!

(Sighs)

We're not f*cking.

We're not f*cking.

(Groans)

Mom!

Coming, honey.

You know, I used to like shaved pussies.

Oh, here we go.

But now whenever I see them, all I can think of is that f*cking Vietnamese girl running down the street covered in napalm.

I can barely watch porn anymore.

That is the real tragedy of chemical warfare.

Julius: Mom!

I'm right here, sweetheart.

Hey, can you not read Julius "Curious George" before bed?

He's terrified of the man in the yellow hat.

He's fearful. He's a fearful child.

No, you're fearful. He's six.

I'm fearful that he's fearful.

(Groans)

(Sighs)

f*cking assh*le.

(Train whistle blows)

Check it out. Steve Jobs' book.

Read it.

You read the hardcover.

I read the hardcover and the paperback.

This is the Kindle version of the paperback of the hardcover.

No way.

Way.

Wanted to read the new format before the movie came out.

90 pages of new material.

So, it's the night before the launch of the iPod.

Jobs goes down to the factory to check things out, only he doesn't like the sound.

What sound?

The headphone Jack sound.

The click?

The sound. He wants a better sound.

So he gets a team of 100 engineers to work all night to replace them.

100?

All night.

Guy was a genius.

Guy was a f*cking genius.

(Train whistle blows)

Thom: Which brings me back to Thomas Jefferson.

Thomas Jefferson isn't the problem.

Jefferson was trying to help.

It's me. I'm the f*cking problem.

My name is Thomas Payne and I...

(Sounds overlapping)

Thom: I work for Satan.

I've worked for the dark lord for 20 years now and so I say this with a fair degree of authority, f*ck "Mad Men."

There's nothing cool about advertising, there's nothing interesting.

We do the same thing that everyone else in the world does these days we kiss the zit-covered asses of arrogant, know-nothing teenagers.

It's "Lord of the Flies" out there, folks.

And everyone over 18 is piggy.

I'm f*cked, Thom. We all are.

When did he make this announcement?

This morning! Do you know them?

I know of them, they're Swedes.

That's what everyone calls them.

Gustaf and Gottfrid.

So, what, Jonathan just announces these new creative directors, calls you into his office and fires you?

No, but they will. I know it.

Debbie, you're the best account director this company has.

(Scoffs) I could be their mother.

That doesn't mean they want to fire you.

It means they want to f*ck you.

Oh, they're gonna f*ck me.

Trust me, they are gonna f*ck me!

They're not gonna fire you. I won't let them.

You don't have any power.

I have some power.

Not anymore.

So why are you bitching to me?

Because you have heart.

And that's why you have no power.

(Knocks) Jonathan wants to see you at 12:00.

Am I being fired?

Mikal phoned, wants to know if he's being fired.

Tracey phoned, wants to know if she's being fired.

Larry phoned, wants to know if you're being fired.

It's gonna be a fun day.

You know what? f*ck this.

Tell Jonathan I want to see him now.

I'll tell Jonathan you want to see him now regardless of prior schedule commitments.

I don't care which Swedish d*ck he's sucking.

What is that, some kind of radar thing?

She's been with me way too long.

Radar?

O'Reilly. From "Mash."

What's "Mash"?

Oh, my God. How old aren't you?

Can you do a 5:30 face-to-face with Gustaf and Gottfrid?

Who schedules a meeting at 5:30?

Gustaf and Gottfrid.

Maybe they're still on Swedish time?

Well, I promised Jules I'd take him to five guys tonight.

Okay.

f*ck it! All right, tell them I'll be there.

Got it.

Reporter: The Charlie Hebdo sh**t suggest a new Al-Qaeda, experts say.

You got to hand it to Bin Laden.

What'd he spend on 9/11? Couple hundred grand?

I couldn't make a web film for that much.

Al-Qaeda's been on the cover of every magazine ever since.

9/10, no one ever heard of that brand.

9/12, not a person alive who hadn't.

!sis comes along, expands the market to the west.

Women are joining that group. Did you know that?

Yeah.

These homicidal m*therf*ckers are fantastic marketers.

Al-Qaeda is not a brand, Jonathan.

It's a t*rror1st organization.

Everything's a brand, Thom. I'm a brand, you're a brand.

God's a brand. And a brand in trouble.

(TV turns off)

Are you getting fired?

Things have changed, Thom.

Thinking is not as important as tweeting.

Gustaf and Gottfrid have thousands of followers and you're on AOL.

Sorry, am I getting fired for not having a Facebook account?

You test poorly, Thom. You taste great, but it's a less filling world.

Your clothes suck, you're out of shape. You're 44.

f*ck you, you 52-year-old, skinny jeans-wearing assh*le.

Executive level, Thom.

The city of refuge for the bespectacled lumpenproles of the 50-plus crowd.

The board has given the Swedes control of the creative department.

They want to turn things around.

I have to report to them?

Jesus Christ, Thom. The industry is in the shitter.

You know that. They all are.

We've hit peak America.

We're sitting in a puddle of was.

In a couple of months, I expect to be replaced by a f*cking app.

Look, I love you, Thom, but if you want to survive this, you've got to play the game.

So marketer, rebrand thyself.

There must be somewhere I can go.

Where do you wanna go?

Do you wanna go to some f*cking digital company where they're coming up with shitty Facebook ideas all day?

They won't touch you. Do you know that the average age of the Facebook employee is 26?

31 at Google. 33 at Apple.

You stay at MGT. Kiss some nordic ass.

Write your f*cking novel. And I'm a headhunter.

I lose money telling you this shit.

You still need a copywriter, right?

Did you check out Gwen's portfolio?

She's a f*cking genius.

Great work for Geico Gecko and the Aflac goose.

It's a duck, by the way.

Oh, now, that's even funnier. (Laughs)

I just think, I don't know, I'd be happier someplace else.

That's a myth, Thom.

You're as happy right now as you can ever be.

We each have our own joy ceiling.

It doesn't matter how much f*cking money you have or how perfect your family is or how many Pulitzers you win.

You hit your joy ceiling and you're done.

That's why Jesus wept. Low joy ceiling.

Richard Simmons, high joy ceiling.

And that f*cking monk, what's his name?

Thich Nhat whatever the f*ck, very high joy ceiling.

Thom Payne, low joy ceiling.

It's not the pursuit of happiness that's our problem.

It's our inability to accept when we have maxed out.

You think you're not happy?

Trust me, Thom, you couldn't possibly be happier.

Forta-Dude.

"Get amped and ripped as you max out those reps like never before."

Jesus, f*ck.

Man: Okay, Thom Payne.

By show of hands, how many of you find Thom likable?

(Group laughs)

Does anybody here find Thom likable?

(Group laughs)

Nobody? Interesting.

How many of you would like to be like Thom someday?

Man: Hell, no.

Hey, let me ask you this.

How many of you think Thom should just k*ll himself?

That's a yes.

Why?

Because I don't look like this shithead?

I'm not supposed to look like that.

I have a job, a wife, and a child.

Do you know how much time this ridiculous assh*le spends to look like that?

Hours every f*cking day.

Do you know how much self-loathing it requires to have washboard abs?

How much you've got to hate yourself to work that f*cking hard?

Abs don't tell the world you're healthy.

They tell the world you're one twinkie away from k*lling yourself.

It's true. I hate myself.

I pursue an impossible standard of physical perfection in the hope it will make me worthy of love.

Thank you.

Again with the projection.

b*tch projects like a m*therf*cker, yo.

Chill out, Thom. Camus said Sisyphus was happy in his absurd existence, a'ight?

Camus also said that the ridiculousness of life requires revolt, not su1c1de.

Okay, show of hands, how many of you think Thom is capable of revolt?

(Group snickers)

Interesting.

Mmm, interesting. Go f*ck yourselves.

Nice tits, assh*le.

Lee: Hey, honey, it's me. It's about 4:00.

Listen, don't worry about it. Jules is gonna be fine.

Fathers miss dinner all the time.

So why don't you just get in there, tell those Swedes how much you love IKEA and douchen-baggen duvet covers and freestanding bergen-belsen lamps, and we'll meet you at the Funny Farm, okay?

I love you.

(Sighs)

(Belches)

(Applause)

(Cheering)

Thank you. Thank you.

Now, what we have to do first is take a look at all the accounts and say where can we be doing the better work?

Yeah? Where are the opportunities for disruption?

For misruption?

Business today travels at the speed of ideas.

And you don't have to like it, but you can't ignore it.

First we had the black and white, yeah?

Then came color.

What comes after color?

You tell us.

What would Steve Jobs do with the army account?

Yeah? Or even at brands like Keebler?

How are we using the social?

Maybe it's time we shipped the little elves off to Miami.

(Laughter)

For a, uh, how do you say it?

(Whispering)

A forced retirement.

(Laughter)

(Mocking laughter)

Why?

Why what?

Why does Keebler need a social media plan?

Because it isn't the '90s.

(Laughter)

It's a cookie, Gustaf.

I'm Gottfrid.

Oh, right, well, you know, unfriend me.

(Laughter)

Yeah, I'm sorry.

You know, I bought some... excuse me... Pepto-Bismol yesterday.

That's what I get for eating in the downstairs cafeteria.

(Laughter)

And on the side of the package I swear it said, "follow us on Twitter."

Yeah. Yeah.

Who the f*ck wants to follow Pepto-Bismol on Twitter?

Are you that lonely?

I mean, what the f*ck is wrong with your f*cking assh*le that you need to follow Pepto-Bismol on Twitter?

What is it? Is it like I need to take a shit.

Hmm, I wonder what's going on in the pink bismuth world.

(Murmuring)

(Man clearing throat)

Look, Keebler had its best year last year and old or not, those elves are beloved in this country.

Gottfrid: My grandparents are beloved, too, but I'm not going to hire them, am I?

(Laughter)

Gottfrid, I don't think we have enough money in the budget for both of them.

That right there is something that we need to change.

This technophobia.

I agree. Why don't we fire your grandparents?

Maybe, Thom.

Maybe, maybe.

I'm sorry, I'm feeling a little strange.

I'm gonna take a lie-down.

But if any of you are Pinterested, you can follow my f*cking assh*le on Twitter.

(Murmuring)

Okay, some strong opinions.

(Laughter)

(g*nshots)

f*ck! What the f*ck?

Thom: Fast Eddie.

(g*nsh*t)

Ernie?

Ernie?

Hold it right there.

Ernie, what the hell are you doing?

46 years, Thom.

46 f*cking years I gave that company living in this f*cking tree, Thom.

And now they're going to fire me?

Well, not if I k*ll us all first.

Ernie, Ernie, no one's gonna fire you.

I won't let them.

You f*cking p*ssy.

You'll be lucky if they don't fire you.

Ernie, what about JJ and Buckets?

And Elmer? Little Elmer.

Doesn't Elmer deserve a father?

A father who takes it up the ass his whole life.

Shit, they might as well just move in with you.

No, no, no, stop. We can make this right, Ernie.

We can make it right. Like... like Steve Jobs.

Like Steve what?

The Jack. The iPod Jack.

He wanted to make a bad situation right, so he had 100 engineers fix every single one and work all night.

Just to make it right, Ernie.

They worked all night?

All night, buddy.

He sounds like a f*cking prick.

(g*nsh*t)

(Screams)

Ma!

Oh, my Ernie.

My Ernie. Oh, no.

So sorry.

(Sobbing) No!

I'm so sorry.

No.

Oh!

(Moaning)

Oh, my stars!

So soft.

So chewy.

Oh, Thom. What are you doing?

Oh, Thom. Thom, I have waited so long for this.

Oh, my, Thom.

That's uncommonly good. Ooh!

You're double-stuffed. (Moaning)

You're so f*cking double-stuffed. Huh?

Thom?

You gonna take your teeth out, hmm?

Ahem, Thom, they canceled.

What time is it?

6:30.

I'm late.

They canceled.

Jules?

The Swedes.

Oh, m*therf*ckers!

(Children playing)

Julius, want to go down the slide, honey?

No, I don't want to go down.

Okay, you don't... you don't have to go down the slide if you don't want to. Don't do it for me, honey.

If you don't want to go down, don't go down.

My Alexander used to be like that.

Now he goes down headfirst.

Used to be like what?

What?

You said your son used to be like that. Be like what?

Oh, just, you know.

Why don't you mind your own f*cking business?

Jules, just... just come on down.

We're here to have fun.

I was just trying to be helpful.

No, you weren't.

You were trying to be superior at the Funny Farm.

It's f*cking pathetic.

(Phone rings)

Hi.

They canceled.

Are you kidding me?

Oh, this is bullshit, Thom.

There's nothing I can do.

Oh, well, they don't have families, they don't have kids, why would they give a shit?

They are f*cking kids. I still can't tell them to f*ck off.

Thom, it's f*cking bullshit.

How's Julius?

Is he just sitting there doing nothing?

No, he's having a great time.

Let me talk to him.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

It's Dada.

Hi, Dada.

Hey, buddy boy.

What's going on? You having fun?

Not really.

Hey, dad, your balloon is dying.

The red one from your party.

Thom: Hey, I'll get you a new one, I promise.

And, hey, I'm really sorry I wasn't there today, okay?

Sure, I know.

Next week, I promise.

Okay, we'll go next week. Bye, Dada.

Bye, buddy.

Jonathan?

(Sniffing) Martini?

(Sniffing) A little dirty.

(Sniffing) Vodka. Vodka?

Gin. Face-to-face with the Swedes down at the bar cleaning up your f*cking mess.

You can't remember their names, can you?

f*ck you, Thom.

Excuse me?

'Tis pity we're all whores, isn't it, Thom?

Everyone but you.

I must say, that was a stirring oratory you delivered earlier on the rights of animated elves.

You suck the same cocks we all do, Thom.

Wincing at the taste doesn't make you a better man, it only makes you a worse whore.

So if you're gonna show me the error of my ways, do it from the cedar deck of your four-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bath American dream that you earned the same way I earned mine.

You should drink more, Jon.

I couldn't possibly.

(Whispering) What's that?

That's just balloons.

Oh, thank you, you d*ck. I meant in the bag.

Oh, that's some champagne.

Hmm.

And 50mg of hard-on.

Are we f*cking?

Yes, we're f*cking.

"Chemical cock." My favorite.

Except I took some 20 minutes ago and nothing's happened.

Oh, no, wait. There it is.

Stand back.

Yeah, mmm.

Whoa. (Laughs)

Our safe word is "Swede."

Let's do it.

Yeah.

Imagine the scenario...

Thom: Sometimes on the way to work, I like to imagine Samuel Beckett waiting for, let's say, the 6:47 to Grand Central.

And Sam's pissed off. He hates his job.

Wants to write, wants to do something that matters.

But he does his shitty job every day because Sam loves his wife and they love their child.

And somehow Sam's found a sliver of happiness in this shitpile of a world.

So basically, Sam's f*cked.

(Clamoring)

My apologies.

Thom: Because if he wants to keep that happiness, Sam's got to suck some cock.

The same cocks we all do.

So Beckett takes his seat on the train, fires up his iPad and he thinks, "I can't go on. I'll go on to target.

It's 30% off all skinny jeans

Till next m*therf*cking Monday...