Previously on Ray Donovan...
I'm afraid to go home.
I'm taking my things, I'm taking my dog and I'm leaving.
Give me my dog!
Over my dead body you take our dog.
She's pretty special, isn't she?
What?
I said, she's pretty special, isn't she?
I don't know what arrangements you made with my son,
but my services aren't included.
So what do I owe you?
I've been getting some excellent feedback
- on this little film that I wrote. - Four Leaf?
One of his top-notch writers to help spruce it up.
Jay White ain't making Michael into a black veteran in Harlem.
Wallet, cell phone and your fuckin' bag.
You g... Ohh!
They robbed me, Pop.
My settlement money. They took it all.
You want your money back, you don't wanna ID me.
You gonna fuckin' help me?
Your mother's expecting me.
Mom!
Did you meet my step-son?
- Who? - George, when you came in.
- Yeah. - My brother's wife...
the thoughts I had and the things I done.
Did she take her own life?
I gotta say something.
I know, honey.
It was me that gave her the drugs.
I was in the room, helping her do it.
- sync and corrections by Mr. C - - www.addic7ed.com -
Ah.
I'll let you have that one.
Fuck you.
You know what you don't like about me?
I'm the only person on this Earth who's got the balls
to tell you the fuckin' truth.
Now you listen to me, Raymond.
It was what she fuckin' wanted.
It was her choice.
Not yours.
Don't you see what you're doing?
Bridget ran away to New York.
Conor... he's joining the fuckin' Marines.
And that's all because of you.
I love you, Raymond.
But do yourself a favor and look in the fuckin' mirror.
Because you're pushing us all away.
You lookin' for something?
You want some company?
Yeah.
George is missing.
And so is the box.
What?
George took off with the box.
What do you want?
Keep the garbage off her.
Oh, uh...
- Ah, yeah. - Okay.
Okay, okay. Here, come on. Help me lift him.
We get caught for this... lethal injection at San Quentin.
- Fuckin' telling ya. - And I said help me lift him.
He's a very large man.
Jesus.
What now?
- Yeah. - D-Squared.
- What? - I'm sorry, Daryll Donovan?
- Yeah. - Hey, what's happening?
- It's Triple-A. - Who?
Antoine A'Shawn Anderson.
Oh, yeah, yeah. What's up, my man?
Hey, look, I finished your father's movie script,
and I was hoping that you two could come down
to Pacific tomorrow so we can go over some shit.
Okay, yeah. That's what's up, man.
Yeah, should... shouldn't be a problem.
All right. I'll see you tomorrow.
Who was that?
What?
Who was that?
Oh, uh, Triple-A. Uh, Jay White's guy.
Yeah? What'd he want?
Tomorrow he wants you to come by Pacific
so y'all can talk about the movie.
Why'd he call you and not me?
I don't know, Pop. Maybe you don't have a signal
on your phone.
I got, like, four bars.
Jesus, Mickey, you're killing me.
Help me spin the legs around.
The legs are all right. You gotta turn the body.
You gotta turn the shoulders.
Good.
Keep going, keep going.
He's starting to move on his own, here.
See? Let him go, he's slidin'. He's slidin'.
Yeah. There he goes, there he goes.
Rest in peace, you prick.
Jake?
Mm, it's too bright.
- Hey... - Hey, hey, I got you.
Here, come here.
Got spiders. There's spiders
in my brain.
Here.
I saw my dad
at the Fulton Street Station.
He whispered in my ear.
Everything's gonna be okay.
But it's not gonna be okay.
My dad died when I was a kid, I...
Hey... you're okay.
Hey, pretty.
That's him. Slow down, slow down!
Get it?
What do you mean, what am I fuckin' doing?
You talkin' to me?
What?
You say something?
Go back to sleep.
Hey.
Terry Donovan?
Who wants to know?
Mason King.
Damon's father.
Right.
I've been speaking with Damon.
Yeah?
And I wanna go 50/50 on the boy.
Yeah...
I'm sure you do.
And that's what Damon wants?
He wants me to be closer to him.
But you don't got nothing to do with this.
I hope you don't mind me saying, but...
you left the boy when he was 13 and...
now he's got a chance at the big time,
you're coming out the woodwork.
- See how that looks? - It's not like that.
You don't understand.
I'm his father. Not you.
That's true.
Well...
here's how it is:
you hurt the kid,
and I'll hurt you.
You got that?
Now fuck off.
Shit, man, you pull me out of County?
That's heart shit, right there!
Hey, don't worry, man. We're gonna find
this buried treasure, and we get our big pimpin' on.
- All right? - All right.
- Come on. - Hoo-hoo!
People as sad as us shouldn't live so high up.
Yeah?
Turn on Stalkerazzi.
Please tell me that Natalie James is still holed up
with our super Hollywood fixer Ray Donovan.
I mean, this is a code red hot situation, everyone.
It is, Marty, and yes, they're still holed up.
And now there's rumors circulating
she might have a bun in the oven.
Stop it! Stop! I can't take this in one day.
I can't take it. Ray Donovan...
Where are you going?
The mysterious Ray Donovan
may be the... the baby daddy.
I mean, maybe. We're gonna find out soon enough.
Any guesses? Any guesses?
Um, 50/50 on the...
I have no fuckin' idea who that Dave Donovan guy is,
but he's one lucky motherfucker,
am I right?
I mean, it's kinda hard going back to your right hand
after doing that for a stretch.
You know what I'm sayin'?
Whatever this is, there are, uh, many more
layers to peel off of this onion.
So maybe now
this is out, he's gonna wanna talk to us.
Ray talk? That's never gonna happen.
- Why? - I-I've known
this guy... I don't know, almost my entire career.
Hey, hey, hey, hey! Hey!
Listen to me, the next time you leave the office
and you don't turn off my computer
and you don't lock my door
will be the last fucking time
you ever leave an office
in the greater Los Angeles,
Orange County, or Ventura areas.
D...
Ray...
What are you fuckin' doing?!
Oh, my fuckin' car!
- Ray! - Who gave you the story?
Do you have any idea what replacement parts are for this?
No! No! Oh, Jesus, Ray!
I... I can't reveal my sources.
No! No, no!
Stop! Stop! Stop!
Look, Ray, I got it, I got it.
It was your... your fixer friend.
Vicky.
V-Vicky Delgatti.
Yeah.
- So, you sober? - What?
I called you last night.
You hung up on me.
You remember that?
What do you want?
George ran off with the box of evidence.
I've been looking for him all night.
I'll find him.
Yeah?
George Winslow's gone missing.
I need to find him.
Call his mother's office, get me his credit card info
- and, uh, cell phone. - Okay.
And get me a home address for Vicky Delgatti.
All right. Do you want me to pick her up?
- No. Just get me her address.
And get rid of those fuckin' photographers
outside my apartment.
All right, will do.
Mmm. So good.
So fuckin' good.
So, what's the plan?
I don't need a plan. Freddy lives with his wife Misha.
They're both users.
What, addicts?
Hey, no judgment. We just go in
and bulldoze the motherfuckers.
- Yeah? - Yeah. Easy.
Listen, me and Frederico once hit a grocery store,
came away with 15 large.
So?
So, Freddy, like, didn't even spend a dime
except for, like, three grand on rock star.
And a motorcycle.
Hey, give me ten bucks.
- What for? - You'll see.
What's that for?
I don't want Freddy to know it's me ripping him off,
you get me?
You're gonna need a mask too, ET.
I got a mask.
An old school bus.
That's what+ I spent my 15 large on.
From the grocery store job.
Ripped off the S and the H, and I drove that "cool" bus
all the way down to Venus, Texas
with an Indian chick.
Dots. Rainbow was her name.
Why?
Why not, more like.
But w-w-why'd you wanna go to Venus, Texas?
Well, I wanted to go to Paris, Texas...
you know, check out the Eiffel Tower and shit...
but we got lost and, uh, Rainbow, well... ha.
She, uh...
Well, never mind.
All right, you ready?
Let's do this.
- Oh, shit, it's a kid. - Mom.
We don't wanna hurt you.
Where's the diaper bag?
- What? - Where's the fuckin'
- diaper bag, bitch? - Is that you, Duquesne?
Yeah, that's Uncle Dime-Bag.
I can tell by his sneakers and his voice.
- Oh, shit tits. - Take off that silly mask.
- Oh, fuck, man. - Stop cussin'!
What the frig you doing here anyway?
I thought you got locked up.
I got bail.
You seen Freddy?
Haven't seen him for days.
Probably with his W-H-O-R-E.
W-h...
Get a job, Duquesne.
I had a dang job.
I had two dang jobs, but I got dysgraphia, bitch.
You under my feet more than Freddy Jr.,
and he's smarter than you any damn how.
You want a dag picture, son?
No.
Sorry.
- What the fuck was that? - I see numbers backwards,
so how I'm gonna, like, count and shit?
Fuckin' sick of her shit.
Well, what are we gonna do?
Could go get another burger.
About the diaper bag, Duquesne.
Who's Freddy's whore?
Destiny. Some old bitch
Freddy's been fucking on and off for years.
You know, I actually thought it was Freddy's mom
the first time I met her, but then she started
tonguing Freddy's ear.
But having said that, I did actually see
Freddy's real mom doing that once, too.
Well, let's go pay her a visit.
I don't know, man.
Destiny's old man's in the state hospital
and that place reeks of bad juju.
I don't give a fuck.
I'm goin' to get my money.
Vaya con dios.
Now that the world knows about us, maybe we can go on a date.
I'll see ya later.
This is Frank Barnes. Leave a message.
We had a deal, motherfucker.
What the fuck was that?
Here is your script, sir.
Let me know if you have any, uh, suggestions.
I'm open to all opinions.
"Screenplay by Antoine A'Shawn Anderson."
You gotta be fuckin' kidding me.
Come on, Pop, you gotta admit, that was pretty dope.
"Produced by Daryll Donovan."
- The fuck's going on here? - Pop, this is your movie.
Mister Lucky starring Jay White.
My movie? My movie is called Four Leaf.
Fuck this shit.
Where's Jay? I ne... I need to talk
- to him direct. - Pop.
- Is he here? - Pop, Pop, listen.
There is no more contact with Jay.
That's the deal.
- Whose side are you on? - Can we not do this here?
I'm your fuckin' father.
Mr. Donovan, if you will, just look...
look in the bag.
It's 100 grand. For your story.
100 grand. You'll get another check just like that
on the first day of principal photography.
Cash only. I don't accept checks.
I look like a drug dealer?
Is that what it is?
Seriously, come on, Mr. Donovan.
Come on, just take the check and get the fuck outta here!
Okay, Pop. Just ease up, all right?
Look, I know that you're just the hired help,
but you're hired to fuck up my script, which you did.
- I don't take that lightly. - Okay, Pop.
That's enough, all right?
You're out of fuckin' line, here.
I'm out of fuckin' line? You're out of fuckin' line... this
- whole thing is outta line! - Pop, will you listen to me?
- I'm tryin' to help... - Get your finger outta my face.
Daryll, what the fuck, dude?
No, hey, hey, hey, hey. You make sure
you let Jay know it's a go.
All right? I'll take care of him.
- Okay? - Mm-hmm.
It's a go.
Look at this... they got this old Irish guy.
I wonder who the fuck that is.
And they shoot him in the neck 'cause he's selling drugs
to a little black kid.
Okay, Pop, that's just Jay appealing to his black audience.
- That's all. - No offense, Daryll,
but if you couldn't whistle, you wouldn't know
which end of yourself to wipe.
O-okay, what... what is that supposed to mean?
Jay White is a superstar. He's up there in the...
he's in the fuckin' ether. And you don't get that way
unless you have at least a 70% white audience.
And your point is what?
It's a fact, is my point.
By the way, you're 50% white, but I don't see that
in your behavior.
You should be looking after me.
We should be celebrating us making a movie together,
father and son.
You know, I even called Mercedes,
I said, "You know what?
"Get some of the girls together.
- Come over tonight." - What, hookers?
Yeah.
No, Daryll, it's... Ray's place. He wouldn't like that.
Though he's hardly there, of late. What?
What is this?
Is this what I think it is?
Ohh.
Where'd you get this?
My father's side, probably.
Ohh...
Hey, this is Abby Donovan.
Leave your name and number, and I'll get back to you.
Hey, it's me.
I know you're not gonna pick up, but just...
Ah...
I saw you last night and, uh,
I followed you.
Uh...
I ju...
I just want...
Pffft.
- Yeah. - George Winslow's been
at The Fist for the last few hours.
What's Fist?
Well, get ready for an adventure.
Hello, handsome.
- One, please. - You a member?
28 bucks.
Where's the box, George?
Come on, take off your mask.
You're with friends.
Look, George,
- I-I don't have a lot... - Cary Grant.
Ian Fleming was open about basing James Bond
on Mr. Grant.
You'd make an excellent Bond, Ray.
- Better than Lazenby, anyway. - Where's the fuckin' box,
George?
Mr. Grant was bisexual.
Yeah, he lived with a man.
Orry Kelly.
Now, Orry Kelly designed the dress that Marilyn wore
in Some Like it Hot.
Marilyn found it almost impossible to learn her lines.
It took her 60 takes...
just to deliver the line,
"It's me, Sugar."
It's me... Sugar.
Cary Grant lost his mother when he was nine years old.
His family told him that she was dead,
but she was actually committed to a home
for mental defectives.
Ah.
The fuck are you doing?
Where's the box, George?
I-I'm not telling.
Ah! Ugh.
Where's the fuckin' box?
I'm... not... telling.
Ohh.
Let's go.
Check in again next week.
Found him in Hollywood.
I'll let him tell you the story.
No, don't go, Ray.
Please.
It's not like my mother is a maniac...
Shut up, George.
Who'd you give it to?
I didn't.
Who?
Vicky Delgatti.
I...
I didn't... go to her. She came to me.
And she... she tricked me.
All right, George.
Go up to my office, and we'll talk about this later.
You're not in trouble.
You'll call Vicky?
Find out who hired her, who's doing this to me.
Thank you, Ray.
Is Ray here?
I was hoping you were him.
Nah, I'm his brother, Terry.
Hi.
What happened to your face?
It's the way I was born.
Do you wanna come in?
No, I'm all right.
Will you give him these?
He'll understand.
Ah!
Where's the fuckin' box?
You didn't do this on your own, did you, Vic?
Why don't you tell me who you're working for?
All right.
You want me to make it stop?
Yeah? Okay.
Tell me who you're working for.
Go ahead, write it down.
Landry.
All right.
- Yeah. - It's Landry.
- He's got the box. - Okay.
- I'm headed there now. - No, I'll take care of it.
I've taken care of plenty of Landrys before.
- What do you mean? - Go home, Ray.
Go play with your movie star.
- The deal was no more contact. - It's fuckin' me.
I'm gonna tell you who I am.
You're from Hollywood. Small town
where no one tells you the truth... they lick your ass
because you're a movie tough guy, right?
Like to take your shirt off, carry a big gun around,
a few hours in the gym,
and then a fuckin' massage.
Me? I'm from South Boston. We actually kill people.
- Mickey, you listen to me. - You listen to me.
Mister Lucky sucks balls.
So here's the deal:
the movie... my movie... will be made as Four Leaf
or those security tapes get leaked.
You understand me?
Top o' the morning to ya, dick wash.
Maia!
- Yes? - Get me my lawyer.
Now!
They call me Mr. Lucky.
Yeah.
Here is the man himself, Mr. Lucky!
Oh, yeah.
Yeah.
- So, famous writer man. - Yeah?
- You should have one of these. - Hey, baby.
- What is these? - Oh, Triceratops Five.
It'll make your dick as hard as steel.
I'm in perfect working order.
One of these'll turn a grass snake into an anaconda.
Oh yeah?
Two tears in a bucket, motherfuck it.
I get a bad vibe from this place, man.
Oh, well, let's get in and get the fuck out.
Oh, shit the bed.
Hey! Fuck my wife too, bitch?!
Huh?!
That's right, chicken pussies!
Get the fuck out of my house!
It's my domicile, bitch!
Hey! Hey, run, you motherfucking rats!
Stealin' my shit!
Drive! Drive!
Oh, shit!
Get back here, sons o' bitches!
Drive, motherfucker!
Ah!
I'm Acid Man!
Don't you fuck with me!
Ahh! Ahh!
Ohh.
I know all about the Donovans.
Believe me.
And... I wanna believe what you're telling me, Jay.
I wanna believe that this was a terrible accident.
That Mickey and Daryll Donovan turned this into a murder
and then they blackmailed you.
I wanna believe that.
It's true.
You know the exact whereabouts of Sensei Shoota Koizumi's body?
John 8:31.
The truth will set you free.
Isn't that right?
Jay?
Isn't that right?
So what the hell happened last night?
What?
What happened last night?
When I came to open up this morning,
there was blood all over the floor.
- Just give me a drink. - Get it yourself.
I need to go home. My cat needs its asthma inhaler.
What the fuck happened to you?
- I got shot. - Shit.
- Who... where's Ray? - Fuck him.
We gotta get you to a hospital.
No, hey, no, no, no, no.
They're gonna ask questions.
They'll call the police.
Ter, I gotta do this another way.
Ahh!
Oh, shit.
Yes. Ahh.
Jesus Christ.
All right!
Come on, now.
I don't know where to put this.
I'll find a way.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Natalie?
- sync and corrections by Mr. C - - www.addic7ed.com -