02x09 - LCD Soundsystem

(quiet panting)

(grunting, moaning)



Good morning!

That was unexpected.



(man urinating)

Man: "And the bear went to the toilet."

(baby babbling)


'Cause he was a good bear.

What's Mommy reading about?

Mommy's reading about how certain mean politicians have been able to convince workers that unions are bad for them.

What? Why do they hate overtime and maternity leave?

They're so silly.

And weekends.

Voting against their self-interest.

Silly voters.

Silly willy voters.

(both babbling in baby talk)

So I tell Ben we need another restorer 'cause the Guy-Blaché one-reel is completely vinegar.

Soon, we're gonna lose the Yasujirô Shimazu...

The one about the courtesan?


I love that one.

I mean, sure, we have the transfer.

It's not the same.

It's not the same at all!

So, what are you saying?

Budget... the restorers in China charge pennies, you know?

I'm glad they're lifting themselves out of poverty, but...

Oh, remember that?

Man: Yeah.

I hate them.

Me, too.

♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway ♪
♪ I'm gonna leave you anyway ♪
♪ Gonna leave you anyway. ♪
♪ ♪

What do you think of this backsplash?

Stop, we didn't make a mistake.

Come on.

We may have made a mistake.

That's dope.

Goddamn it!

Stupid subway tiles.

Find something fun for date night.

Only if you don't call it "date night."

Okay, all right, here we go.

Craft beer thing in, uh, Eagle Rock.

Eh... Lucha VaVOOM?

We could do a cemetery screening.

Wine tasting at Barnsdall.

Quentin's showing one of my prints at the New Beverly.

Mike can get us into the Magic Castle.

Papilles prix fixe looks pretty good this month.

Devendra Banhart is DJing at the ACE.

We still haven't been to the new Largo.

Remember our Largo days?

I miss our Largo days.

Me, too.

Still can't believe you flashed Gnarls Barkley after that Fiona Apple show.

Thank you.

Don't look now.

That girl's checking you out.

What? Where?

What? No, she's not.

Well, she was.

Maybe she's checking you out.

You go on one date with Margaret Cho.


What's happening after work?

Band rehearsal.

Hey, what do you think of the name Not Penny's Boat?

Hate it.

Just tell Colin to watch his mouth.

He said the "C" word in front of Harper the other day.

Didn't he, sweet baby?

Get it together, Colin.

And break up with Emily.

She's never gonna make a good stepmom.

Doing YouTube makeup tutorials is not a career.

Holy sh1t!


Oh, no.

Oh, God, Rob!


Our lives just got so cliché.


We got an interview for the Camelot School day after tomorrow.

(huffs) sh1t.

Are they gonna know how much pot we smoke?

They're not gonna drug-test us.

Hey, you could probably pass.

What's that supposed to mean?

Nothing. (stammers)

You don't smoke much these days.

Do you want me to fall asleep?

It's not a criticism.

You know, more for me.

Are we really gonna become this?

Hey, our job is to present to the world a human woman of quality.

Harper's awesome.

She deserves to go to a great school.

If you feel really guilty, you could cut down on massages for Sandwiches.

It was one time!

He wasn't pooping!

(both moaning)

Bye, baby!

Bye, baby.

See you later.

(car engine starts)

♪ Did not want this to happen ♪
♪ You did not want this to happen ♪
♪ I don't want this to be a thing ♪
♪ Welcome to the year of flack ♪
♪ Welcome to the year of flack ♪
♪ Welcome to the year we give away... ♪


One more?


It's late.

But this season is so good.

We could mess around.

I'd rather watch another episode.

Oh, God, I'll kill you.

(laughing): Stop!

(Sandwiches barking)



(whispers): The baby.

(whispers): Dumb dog.

Dog dummy.

Give him a break.

It's tough being bred so shitty.

Oh, he's probably barking at a can collector.

So embarrassing.

Like they need that?

All right, one more.

Narrator (on TV): Previously on Exemplified...

(indistinct chatter on TV)

(Jimmy speaking indistinctly)

...pornography, epic skateboard fails, my music, marathons of Treehouse Masters.

I mean, the old lions had it easy.

The only distraction from writing was the encroaching tide of fascism.

And the occasional syphilitic seizure.

Are you listening?

Of course.

As such, if I am to have any hope of finishing the sample chapters for my serious erotic novel, I need your help.

I have here three envelopes stamped and addressed, each containing something horrible I do not want mailed under any circumstances.

On the back are dates and page counts.

I miss a deadline, you mail the envelope.

In ascending order of horribleness, a check to BAMLA, a love letter to Becca, and the worst, an invitation for my family to come visit, all expenses paid.

I mean, the horror of any of these being mailed is so severe that it will serve as all the motivation I need to write.


Ah, damn it!

I'm late for work.

The bar opened 20 minutes ago.

I'll drop you off.

I think I'll walk.

Um... you forgot something.

(indistinct chatter)

Woman: What's happening after work?

Rob: Band rehearsal.

(indistinct chatter)

Didn't he, sweet baby?

Get it together, Colin.

And break up with Emily.

She's never gonna make a good stepmom.

Rob: Doing YouTube makeup tutorials is not a career.

Oh, God.

Oh, Rob, our lives just got so cliché.


We got an interview for the Camelot School day after tomorrow.


Are we really gonna become this?

Hey, Harper's awesome.

She deserves to go to a great school.

If you feel really guilty, you can cut down on massages for Sandwiches.

Woman: He wasn't pooping.


Rob: Bye, baby!

Bye, baby.

See you later.

(engine starts)

Hey, Gretchen.

Do you ever wonder how your life would be different if you'd never walked into that recruiter's office?

It's funny you ask that.

That summer while I was at basic, there was a drive-by that took the life of a young baby...

They talk about how if you make one different decision, your life might be totally different, but is that your only shot?!

Can you make another decision?

Or-or a series of decisions that could get you back to the alternative life that you never got to lead?

Okay, maybe I was not clear earlier.

I'm writing!

It looks like you're drinking and playing darts.

(scoffs) Okay.

Edgar, this is for you, too.

In fact, everyone... writing is very seldom actual writing.

Like, maybe on the outside, it looks as though I'm drinking and playing darts and eating Craisins out of the box in my pocket, but this is part of the process.

It's all writing.

And I need you to respect my process.

All right.

I'll let you get on with the writing, then.

Oh, come...

Want me to go, too?

Can't. You're part of the process now.

(Sandwiches barking)

(indistinct chatter)


(Sandwiches barking)


Hey, buddy.


How's it going?

Here you go.

Yeah, that's the stuff.

You're a good boy.

See, dogs do eat nachos.

(Harper crying)

Okay, honey, here we go.

Num-num. Mommy's got to go convince a bad developer man to put roof gardens on his hideous condos.


Have fun at the park.

Woman (over P.A.): We need a restock on quinoa, aisle two.

Ready to go...?

Eh, excuse me.

Hi, sorry. Can I help?

Yes, please.

Could you hold her for a second?

Oh, thank you.

I'm so sorry.


Want to go over there?


What's this?

(bottle rattling)

Do you like kombucha?

(Harper whines)

Me neither.



Harper? Harper?




Oh, my God.


(speaks Spanish)

She wanted to look around. (chuckles)

(speaks Spanish)

(Harper crying)

Uh-oh, nostalgia box.

Goddamn, this used to be so much fun.


Still fun as sh1t.

All right, gimme.

Gimme, gimme.


All right, sigh-face, what's wrong?

Nitrate decomposition.

You didn't get the grant?

I told them we've lost over 75% of all silent film.

A major art form created and destroyed in the span of a century.

They didn't care.

Maybe I don't either anymore.

I'm gonna have a gallon of wine; want some?

We said we wouldn't; we have the interview tomorrow morning.

Oh, goddamn it!

How's Harpoon?


Nanny said she spilled juice all over herself today.

Likely story, Lupé.

Well, what am I supposed to do now? You took my game.

Tough titties.

Sorry about your grant.

Yeah, well...

I'm gonna feed Sandwiches.

Okay. Try not to depress him.


Here, boy.

Sandwiches? Sandwiches?

He's gone.

("We Can All Be Friends" by Iain Archer playing)

♪ I was thinking ♪
♪ Had a feeling ♪
♪ We can all, we can all, we can all be friends ♪
♪ If 10,000 green leaves grow on this tree ♪
♪ We can all, we can all, we can all be friends... ♪

(indistinct chatter)

Get the ball...

Get the ball. get it, get it, get it, get it.


(overlapping chatter)

♪ The sea of tiny flies in the stars ♪
♪ That's what we are. ♪

Aw, is she friendly?

Oh, yes, he.


His name's Sandwiches.

Aw, cute.

He has to take a pill, but he's a good dog.


Who rescued who, right?

I ask myself that all the time.

So does my husband.

He has band practice right now, so I cleared out.

The thing is, our daughter has a school interview tomorrow, so that's a stress, but it's a good stress.

Come on, Lucy.


I miss our Largo days, Sandwiches.

Don't you?

Our Largo days.

We will, thank you.

What'd the shelters say?

It's too early for him to be in the system if anybody found him.

I told you we shouldn't leave him outside alone.

He has always gotten to hang outside when he wants to.

That's 'cause you taught him early on that's where he belongs.

Dogs want jobs.

Sandwiches does not want a job!

He-he likes to look at stuff.

And now he's looking at the inside of a coyote.

Oh, my God, why would you say that?

Jesus, don't say that to me about my dog.

And there we go.

You know what I mean... I've had him longer.

And to accuse me of somehow not caring for him properly is stunningly hurtful.

Can we please just postpone this stupid interview?

No. Why would we do that?

Because a family member is missing, Lexi!

(knocking on door)

Gretchen: Hi.

Oh, my God!

Oh, Sandwiches!


You're back.


Oh, my God.

Oh, no.

Oh, thank you so much.

Hey. Hey, dummy.

Did you open the gate?

Thank you so much.

Hey, cutie, do you not like living here?

I-I live in the neighborhood.

I pass this guy all the time.

He ran right up to me.

We're friends.

Let us give you a reward.

Oh, God, no, I'm just glad he's home.

Well, uh, gosh, thank you so much.

Hey, I'm sorry.

That's a really great chair.

I'm thinking of redoing my study.

Do you know who makes it?

Oh, uh, I have it written down somewhere.

Please, come in.

Oh, thanks.

Lexi: Uh...

Oh, Gretchen.

Lexi. This is Rob.

(whispering): We have to keep our voices down a little, 'cause our daughter is sleeping.

Oh. Cute.

C-Can I get you a glass of wine?

Gretchen: Oh, God, uh...

Sure, why not?

Lexi: Amazing ramen.

Amazing coffee.

Both walking distance.


Harper can take music lessons at a place owned by Flea.

Lexi: I mean, I get it, Gretchen, I do.

But we don't know anything.

We're just a couple of idiots who boned in the bathroom of the Echo the first night we met.


Trying to figure it out.

Totally aware of the pitfalls and the hazards and the compromises...

In the bathroom at a secret Primus show.

...and yet still doing it.

Vince Vaughn was there.

Not in the bathroom.

Lexi: Conventional and scary? Hell yeah.

But the death of fun?

Not necessarily.

To be a slave to an idea of coolness is why some of your friends never grow and in the end are actually less themselves and counterintuitively live less authentic lives than the buyers-in.

(knocking on door)

Gretchen: Hey, baby.

Jimmy: Oh, hello.

Rob: Come in. I'm Rob.

That's Lexi.


Jimmy Shive-Overly.


I found their dog.

I heard.

You're quite the Carolus Linnaeus.

He invented the modern system for binomial nomenclature for animals.

It's an imperfect analogy.

Thanks for coming to walk me home.

Oh, no problem. Ah, vino.

Thank you.

So we don't really know anyone in the neighborhood.

What do you folks do?

Rob: Uh, Lexi's a green space architect.

And I'm a film restorer.

Jimmy: Ah.

You are doing God's work, sir.

But if everything's digitized, who needs film?

Actually, film is far more stable than digital storage.

Can't see how that's possible.

It's true.

Okay, well, agree to disagree.

Jimmy's a writer.

For what show?


Not for television.

Gah, can you imagine?

No, I'm a... I'm a novelist.

Why live out here?

Yeah, right?


Anyway, I've recently devised a flawless punishment-based productivity solution, if either of you are having any trouble.

Who knows when they might air another marathon of Treehouse Masters?

Rob built a tree house for our daughter.


She's a little too young for it, but...

Uh, may I see it?!

Rob: Sure, sure.

It's a dual-tree platform structure, no electric yet.

Uh, may I see it immediately?!

Follow me.


All right.



(door opens, closes)

Hey, thanks for everything.

I don't want to bore you with the details, but, seriously, this was exactly what I needed.

You like LCD Soundsystem?

Not really.

I know what you mean.

Anyway, I just want you to know, you guys are great.

Hmm? Are we?

Yeah, you are.

Trust me.


I don't know.

Sometimes I just look around and wonder, like, how did this happen?

I mean, Lexi just got this Mini.

It's a really good car.

Gas mileage is great.

But I see it in the driveway, and it's like, "Ugh, what?!"


I mean, one minute I'm living in this cute little studio near Beachwood, interning at New Line, swing dancing at the Derby.

Just me and my dog and pizza and condoms.

Remember those?

Suddenly I have a child and a mortgage, and it's like, "What?"

Hey, if you ever want to go to Cha Cha's and get a drink, I would be totally down.

I don't even know anymore.

Lexi's always like, "School, Harper's school."

And it's, like, fine, but on the other hand, I don't want to be having that conversation, you know?

Like, I love the kid, obviously.

I'm not gonna say she stole my life, but come on.

I mean, what, if we get a divorce, I'd only be 44.

Just check into one of those motels, get a bottle of Jack, like, invite whoever.

Your boyfriend seems really cool.

Seriously, Lexi goes to bed crazy early, so if you guys are ever going out, just shoot me a text; she doesn't care.

Jimmy (laughing): That's what I thought!

Very nice work on the tree house, Rob.

Thank you. I downloaded the instructions from the Web.

Single malt?

Ah, twist my arm.

Rob, we have the Camelot interview in the morning.

Too late.

And I guess we're drinking Scotch now.

Actually, we should go.

What? No!

Oh, okay.

Lexi: Thank you again.


Yeah, no problem.

All right, bye.

Hey, seriously, we should get dinner sometime.

The four of us.

I'll find you online.

That's got...

Uh, that's a, um, childproof...

Okay, good, you got it.

(Lexi and Rob arguing indistinctly)

Jimmy: Well, I would just like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for inviting me.

They were hilarious.

Did you notice their matching anchor tattoos?

And he must have spent months on literally the most boring tree house in the world.

(chuckles) Oh, and I made my deadline.

As of today.

You may tear up the envelopes, thank God.

(fading): Yeah, this was a lovely present for that.

So thank you.

And they named their dog Sandwiches.

I mean, at some point, you have to look at your lives and say...

(Jimmy's voice fades out)

♪ And i... ♪