06x06 - The Kidney Stays in the Picture

[bunniefuu]

...and they even let the birthday boy
pilot the airplane!

There were no survivors.

In other news, the newly formed
Hollywoo "Guild of Assistants"

is meeting with industry
power brokers today

to negotiate terms
for a standard agreement.

I'm optimistic about the coming talks
and confident we can avoid a strike.

Our demands are reasonable,

and our services
are crucial to this industry.

All right, you little pishers,

let's wrap this up quick so you can all
go back to getting me wrong coffees.

- What do you want?
- We have one request.

To not be treated like garbage.

It appears we are at an impasse.

- Where's my dry cleaning?
- Where's my car?

I don't know any of my passwords!
What's my mother's maiden name?

I'm going into labor!
You need to call my doula!

Will somebody please make me
a reservation at Little Dom's?

Oh, no. Did I really drink last night?

Doctor Champ, I am so sorry.
I...

- Did anyone see me?
- You were in here all night.

Nobody can know about this.

There are 20 struggling addicts
in this building who are counting on me.

Of course.

I'm gonna go home, take a shower.

- This never happened.
- Agreed.

But how do I get out of here
without anyone seeing me?

- Whoa!
- Okay, okay, easy.

This requires a surprising amount
of upper-body strength.

Stop swinging. Just slide down.

Am I being inconspicuous?

Yes. Plus or minus the yelling.

- I'm just gonna let go.
- Don't...

Thank you, BoJack,
for being there to catch me.

Up!

Ew.

"I looked in that case first chance I got
and there was that note still tied there.

That line hadn't touched water
in its life."

"Doesn't mean nothin', Alma."

"Don't try and fool me no more, Ennis.
I know what it means.

Jack Twist, Jack nasty!"

The sock puppet players tribute
to Ang Lee will continue after this.

- Oh. Hello, Jorge.
- I have some news. It's about your mother.

Oh, is the news that you're marrying her,

inserting yourself into our family
and ruining my life?

Because I already heard that news
like 25 years ago, Jorge.

- I didn't come to your home to fight.
- Then joke's on you

because you didn't come to my home at all.

I just sleep on the couch...

- ...since you and Mom gave me the boot.
- That was ten years ago.

Which, by the way,
is the only thing you ever gave me.

I gave you my name,
and you have clearly wasted it.

Do you know what the Chavez name
stands for?

Yes, Jorge.

Chavez! C for cerebral!
H for high-minded! A for analytical!

V for veracious! E for efficacious!

And Z for zealously practical.

Feels like a cheat on the Z.

Todd, your mother needs your help.

Well, then instead of sending her husband,

she should have asked me herself,
if it's so important to her.

- She's in a coma.
- A rudeness coma?

No, a regular coma.

Oh, my God! Why didn't you open with that?

Please. Your mother needs a kidney.

I put her on the donor waiting list,
but if you're a match...

Oh. I'm sorry.
Of course I would give Mom my kidney.

- Then there's no time to waste...
- "Would" give her my kidney.

"Would." You need to work
on your listening skills.

I sold my extra kidney just last week.

- Why?
- I wanted to buy these sock puppets.

You sold your kidney for...
I'm sorry I came.

If you'd like to visit your mother...

Wait. What if instead
of visiting my mother,

we got my kidney back?

Come on, Ruthie!
Field trip to the organ market!

Princess Carolyn, this is a catastrophe.

- You know it.
- This strike has shut down the whole city!

Assistants want respect?

If we respect them, how are we supposed
to work through our rage issues?

On our spouses and children?
That doesn't seem fair.

There's gotta be a better way!

Uh, maybe we could circumvent
giving the assistants what they want

by giving them what they think they want.

You know, like how we satiate TV creators

by giving them little vanity cards
at the end of episodes,

then sell the shows to streaming networks
that auto-skip the end credits

so no one even sees the vanity cards!

Yeah, yeah, that's good.
But what do assistants want?

iTunes gift cards? Amazon gift cards?

I honestly can't think of another thing
an assistant would want.

When I was an assistant,

the only thing I wanted
was not to be an assistant anymore.

Princess Carolyn, I'll say to you

what I said to David Levy
when we were developing

The Addams Family
and brainstorming ancillary characters,

like cousins and whatnot: That's Itt!

- Hey! Sad dog!
- Ha-ha! You know it!

Wow. Mr. Peanutbutter
and Joey Pogo in the same room?

What is this? Two days ago
when I almost hit you with my car?

No! That was outside!

Listen, I've been trying
to get in touch with you.

I got a call from this mental health
advocacy group.

Those guys are jizzin' their pants
over your heroic admission

of your struggle with depression,

and they wanna help you
share your story with the world.

The world, huh?

I wanted to set up a meeting,
but my assistant went on strike,

and phones, for me, are, like, what?

Even if you had your assistant,
it wouldn't do any good.

My reps' assistants
are all on strike, too.

Oh, bummer. Guess there's no way
to get in touch then.

Too bad. I'd love to get together.

Goodbye, fancy room.

Goodbye, chair. Goodbye, Stinky Susan.

Huh?

- Where to?
- Um...

Home, I... I guess.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Hey! Stop the car. Let me out here.

Wow, already stopping for a drink?

Thank you,
your commentary is very helpful.

Five stars, though, right?

- Doctor Champ, what are you doing?
- Okay.

This mood about "never have another drop
of alcohol again?"

- Are we sure about this?
- Okay, Doctor Champ, clearly, you...

I'm sitting here, like,
whatever happened to moderation, buddy?

So, you're telling me
the guiding philosophy

of the six months of rehab
I just paid for is complete bullshit?

Hey, man, it works for you,
it works for you.

As for me? Uh, check, please!

No, that's a figure of speech.
I don't want the check.

Please replenish me with another mar-gar.

Howdy, howdy!

Welcome to Mike and Morgan's
House of Organs!

We handle all your matters,
from keyboards to bladders.

Mike, give it a rest.

- What's with all the boxes?
- We're going out of business.

Oh, no!

I told you
we should just stick to the pianos.

You wanted to expand into body parts.

You printed the sign that said,

"For all your organ needs."
I was just trying to keep us honest.

Judging from the foolishness
of your business plan,

I assume you don't keep records,

but we're trying to track down
my son's kidney.

Oh...

Sorry, all our kidneys went to Chicago.
Jeremiah Whitewhale bought us out.

- Of Whitewhale Industries? Why?
- He's stockpiling organs

because he's a rich old guy
who wants to live forever.

Oh, no!

Well, this was a pointless excursion.
I'm heading back to the hospital.

I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful.

No. It's my fault
for expecting anything different.

Can we offer you anything on your way out?

You want a Wurlitzer or a spleen

or an industrial-sized tub
of general anesthesia?

Yeah, give me the anesthesia.

You could sneak in
during the party

as long as nobody's estranged husband
who's a cop is visiting.

Holiday party, huh?

- What? Where am I?
- You're in Chicago!

- Hi, I'm Diane. This is Guy.
- How you doin'?

Oh! Are you ready for introductions
or are you still processing

the whole being kidnapped
across state lines?

I'm sorry, what?

We're breaking
into the Whitewhale building.

- Why?
- To get back my kidney and save Mom

and prove to you
that I'm not just a wacky screw-up

who engages primarily
in goofy whimsical mess-arounds.

- How did you get me on the plane?
- We did a Weekend at Bernie's.

As I was saying,

tonight's the Whitewhale
employee holiday party.

Security will be tight, but you can use
my employee ID to get in,

because I'm technically
still on the payroll.

Wait, you didn't quit?
We haven't worked there in months.

Nobody's noticed!
They keep sending me checks.

Cashing them is my way of very gradually
taking down the man from the inside.

Hey. C... can we sidebar for a minute?
Is this really the best use of your time?

You've been b*ating yourself up
about how slowly the book's going. So...

But the book is about me
and my life, so by living my life,

I am in fact working on the book.

You don't have to write this book
if you don't want to.

Of course I want to.

Okay. I'm just saying, since you started,
you've been pretty down.

- Not yourself. Diane...
- Actually, pretty down is myself.

Can we talk about this later?
We're being rude.

Why don't you offer them
one of your fancy beers?

So, all we need to do
is get into the party,

figure out where the kidneys are,
find my kidney, and sneak out,

all without drawing attention
to ourselves.

And be careful, because
if Jeremiah Whitewhale catches you,

he can legally m*rder you.

Now, can I get anyone an imperial stout?

The barley was from Portland, Maine,
but the brewery is in Portland, Oregon!

This plan is ludicrous.

Hey, maybe instead
of criticizing everything

like you've done my entire life,
you can get on board?

It's gonna work out.

Things don't just work out, Todd!

Of course they do!
I don't know why you're so negative!

Do you want to help Mom,

or do you wanna just go back
to the hospital and wait?

Okay. I'm in.

I don't feel comfortable negotiating
without my fellow assistants present.

Yeah. This is not about that.

Good, because our demands haven't changed.

Casey, it's been so thrilling to see you
grow into your role as strike captain.

You know, there's an opening
at my company for a development exec.

I don't suppose you'd be interested?

Oh! Uh...

I'd have to think about it.
I've never rea...

You'd get overpaid to read scripts,

company credit card,
and a parking spot in the good garage.

- Um...
- Plus, your own assistant.

An... assistant?

That is, of course, if the strike ends.

Well, that's a very generous offer,

but I'd have to talk it over
with my colleagues.

Why? Those are assistants.

You're not one of them anymore.
You're one of us.

It's a two-year contract.

Sign right there
and your troubles are over.

What's so funny?

I was just remembering a funny joke,
unrelated to this.

Can you tell me what it is?

You wouldn't get it.
It's about Zsa Zsa Gabor,

and it's no longer appropriate
in today's climate.

You've made the right decision.
You're gonna love the new job.

- Welcome to the team, Stacey.
- It's Case...

Hmm...

Hey!

Sign here to run development

for Saoirse Ronan's production company,
Saoirse and Rescue.

Mm-hmm.

I can't be an assistant anymore!

Shirley MacLaine threw a cactus at my head

because I set a meeting
with the wrong Steve McQueen!

How was I supposed to know
she meant the dead one?

Shh. It's okay. Just sign here
and orchestrate your own great escape.

Ooh.

Okay, I'm going in.

Todd, promise me
you'll be perspicacious in there.

Perspicacious?

I don't know the meaning of the word.

- You're Diane?
- Yes!

- Nguyen?
- That is correct!

I find that hard to believe.

Wow, that's r*cist.

People don't always
look like their last names.

For example, I'm white,
and my last name is Chavez.

I thought your last name was Nguyen.

- Oh! Uh, yeah, it is! Todd Nguyen.
- Not Diane Nguyen?

Oh, yeah! Diane Nguyen.

That's me, all right,
or my name isn't Todd Chavez.

Well, that was a bust.

Okay, this time,
you're Diane and I'll be Jorge.

Todd, get in the trash can.

I know I'm a disappointment to you,
but I do not live in a trash can, Jorge,

and I haven't for several years now! Hey!

Uh... What? Sorry, I...

Oh. No Español?

Uh... go ahead.

- Wow, that was amazing!
- No. That was logical and straightforward.

- Another club soda, please.
- Nerd!

Doctor Champ, what is your plan?

Just gotta drink enough to be steady.

Then, you take me back to Pastiches
and keep me out of trouble.

That way, you don't have to go home
and I can be a good therapy horse.

All my clients get sober, I am a winner,
put my picture on a magazine.

Look, I can't let you go back there drunk.

You don't care about me!
You're scared of this guy.

You can't help anybody else
unless you're honest with yourself.

- Know what I mean?
- No. I never know what you mean.

In fact, maybe I wouldn't be so scared

if you'd given me real therapy
over the last six months

instead of just plying me
with folksy aphorisms.

I'm not a therapist! I'm a therapy horse,

a subtle but legally
important distinction.

Besides, you wouldn't accept
real therapy from me.

Oh, and why's that?

Gee, I don't know,
maybe because I'm a horse,

so I remind you of your father,

so you simultaneously resent me
and crave my approval,

an approval which,
ironically, if granted...

Yeah, I would dismiss immediately

and then use as an excuse to resent you
even more, what's your point?

My point is, you're stunted from having
healthy relationships with horses, idiot!

Oh, really? Well, if that were true,

I would have almost
no other horses in my life.

Right, it's almost as if all your friends

and loved ones
are humans or dogs or cats...

But then how do you explain
the one horse I do care about,

my half-sister Hollyhock,
who is also a reminder of my father?

If your theory were true,
wouldn't I keep her at arms' length,

desperate for her to love me
but unwilling to be vulnerable enough

to allow her to hurt me?

You blockhead, she's not your father!

Hollyhock reminds you
of the horse you hate the most. Yourself!

Okay, you got me!

My parents gave me an internalized
self-hatred of horses.

So, my horse body is a prison
that I can never escape.

This manifests in rotten behavior

because I subconsciously believe
I deserve to be punished,

but being famous, I'm never punished,
so I act out even more.

And since this pattern
is so woven into my identity,

it is unfathomable to me that it can
ever be curbed, so instead, I drink!

Uh... Check, please!

So, the only way I can progress
is to return to my life as a sober man

and finally hold myself accountable
for my actions, past and future.

Oh, my God, is this what therapy is?

Why do you keep bringing me checks?

Uh... Doctor Champ?

Wow.

Sorry, folks!

This floor's off-limits.

- Oh, but...
- Oh, thank God you're here!

I saw someone at the buffet
putting ketchup on a hot dog.

What? Not in my town!

- Wow, you are really good at this.
- Let's go.

Ooh, wow. Hmm.

Oh, look. People who selected kidneys
might also enjoy small intestines.

Just the kidney. We don't need
to be up-sold on other innards.

Yes, sir.

Thank you for... this.

Uh. Once your mother is okay,
we will never bother you again.

- I know that's what you want.
- Why would I want that?

- You never understood me.
- I raised you as my own flesh.

I was tough on you
because I expected big things from you.

You weren't tough. You were mean.

- Because the world is mean!
- Not my world!

I wanted so much for you, Todd.

I wanted to push you to be your best self.
I see now that I failed you.

But you didn't fail me
because I am not a failure.

Look... Okay, Todd.

Why do you need to be proud of me
on your terms?

Why can't you see I'm living a good life?
I have friends. I have a job...

You sleep on the couch
and you play with puppets all day.

I'm happy, Jorge.
What more do you want from me?

I want to know that you're okay!

Then why haven't you called in ten years?

You don't think I wanted to?
I'm not the one who...

What?

She loves you, your mother.

But she's very proud.
If you called her, she would talk to you.

Well, she can't talk now
because she's in a coma, right?

Yeah.

What are they talking about?

Oh, sh*t, oh, sh*t, oh, sh*t.

Chavezes! You got company!

Get out of there now! Do you read me?

Hello? Hello?

Diane? Why is there a walkie-talkie
in our kitchen?

- God damn it!
- Uh...

Excuse me? This garage
is for shopping center customers only.

Okay, fine, I'll buy a pretzel.

- Or you could just leave.
- No, now I want the pretzel.

Hey, Diane, get me a pretzel,
too, please. Love you, okay?

Someone's coming.
We have to go.

I'm not going until I get my kidney.

- Todd, this is serious.
- Yes, I understand.

You are very serious.

You read serious books
and listen to Sirius XM.

We have to go right now.

- Hey!
- Why do you always fight me?

Why do you always try
to make me leave places?

Hey!

Stay right where you are!

Whoa!

Um...

Uh, I'm sure the other assistants
will be here any minute.

Traffic's real bad because of the rain.

No one else is coming, Stuart.

- Uh... because of the rain?
- They got promoted.

Your ranks are divided.

Your leadership has abandoned you.
Face it, the strike is over.

Whoa. Okay.

We've drawn up a new collective agreement.

You get none of the things you asked for
and you start work again Monday.

Sounds fair.

If I sign this, does that mean
I get a promotion, too?

Sure, Stuart. Someday.

Princess Carolyn,
I'd love to give you a raise,

but you're thinking like an assistant.

Any day now, you're gonna get promoted
to agent and sign a brand-new contract,

so why are you concerning yourself
with these assistantly trifles?

You really think I have
what it takes to be an agent?

Someday, sure!
But for now, you're my assistant,

and since you've got a similar build

to the angry lady
I fell on at the post office,

I need you to try on these apology bikinis
and report back where they pinch.

You got it, boss.

Oh.

- Um...
- Stuart, don't sign that!

I just remembered
there's a typo on page 12!

Instead of "billable hours,"
I wrote, "Billy Bob showers!"

Ooh, that's not gonna fly, P.C.

That guy hasn't showered since Bad Santa.

Man Who Wasn't There?
More like "Man Who Doesn't Wash There."

Sling Blade? More like "Please Bathe!"

Monster's Ball? More like "Monster Balls."
Great actor, though.

Let me fix up a new version

and you can come back
and sign it tomorrow.

I'll walk you to your car.

Well, this is my car.

- Really?
- No. I don't own a car.

So why did we walk
three blocks in the rain?

I panicked! I've never been in charge
of where to go before!

You're clearly out of your depth
in these negotiations.

Take this number.

Wow. This a lot of money,
Princess Carolyn.

That's not an offer, it's a phone number!

Oh...

Can you drive me home?

- Officer, I...
- Sir, did this man att*ck you?

- What? No.
- You can tell me if he att*cked you.

- Hey! Keep your hands where I can see 'em.
- Look, this is all a misunderstanding.

I'm just trying to take
this kidney back to my mom.

Whitewhale's got like a hundred of these.
He won't even miss this one.

Well, aren't you a little scamp.

Oh, stop!

What?

Armageddon? More like "Arma-gettin'
Away From This Stinky Guy!"

What the...? Hey, who's in my chair?

Mr. Turteltaub,
I thought our meeting was at 9 a.m.

- It appears to be 9:03.
- Hello.

If you're serious about negotiating,

it's imprudent to send the message
you don't respect our time.

To start these negotiations
on the right foot,

I suggest we adjourn for the day
and start in earnest tomorrow.

- On schedule?
- Um...

- Okay?
- Fabulous. Princess Carolyn.

Judah.

- What the shell was that?
- Let the negotiations begin.

Todd, I, uh... owe you an apology.

Oh?

I know I was hard on you
when you were growing up,

but I was trying to protect you.

Nothing came easy for me.

It took hard work, focus, discipline
to get me where I am today.

Things didn't just work out.

But I should have realized: you're white.

I forgive you.

She's awake.

Do you wanna come say hello?
I'm sure she would love to see you.

Well, she has my number.

- That's cold, Todd.
- What do you expect?

I'm a Chavez, right?

Hmm...

- Huh? Where am I?
- You're at Partridges,

the rehab clinic
founded by Danny Bonaduce.

- What about Pastiches?
- I told them I was checking you in here.

Why would you do that?

Those people need me
to be an example of success.

You can't help anybody else
unless you're honest with yourself.

- A wise man told me that.
- Who? What wise man?

You did.
I was being poetic and you ruined it.

Well, don't listen to me. I'm a drunk!

Yeah. But the first step is admitting it.

You've destroyed me.
I can never go back to Pastiches now.

My husband will leave me.

I promised him I would never drink again
after what happened to our daughter.

Uh... What happened to your daughter?

You know nothing of my life
and you think you know what's best for me?

The only reason I got drunk
in the first place

is because of your contraband vodka!

- Well, yes, technically, that's true.
- Of course you did this to me.

Because I cared about you.

And you ruin people who care about you.

Well, best of luck.

I want you to remember this, BoJack.
I want you to remember what you did to me.

I remember everything. I'm sober now.

♪ Back in the '90s
I was in a very famous TV show ♪

- ♪ I'm BoJack the horseman ♪
- ♪ BoJack ♪

♪ BoJack the horseman
Don't act like you don't know ♪

♪ And I'm trying to hold on to my past ♪

♪ It's been so long
I don't think I'm gonna last ♪

♪ I guess I'm just trying
To make you understand ♪

♪ That I'm more horse than a man ♪

♪ Or I'm more man than a horse ♪

♪ BoJack ♪