Got too much time and nowhere to go
But I drink enough to say hello
I'm not in love with anyone
But I'm high enough not to give a...
God damn it!
Cut! Okay.
Whoa! Cut it, fellas!
Man, I am blowing this jug.
What the hell is wrong with you?
You are what's wrong with me!
It's 5:50 in the goddamn morning!
Uh, duh! It's called the golden hour.
The... The light takes on a special quality.
I know what it means, but...
Then you know it's the best time to record stuff, so...
Film! It's the best time to record things on film.
It cannot possibly have any effect on recording audio.
Oh! Was I supposed to be recording that?
Krieger! God damn it.
We're losing the light!
We're not losing me blowing this jug.
Are you bothering them?
I am, and also, happy Opposite Day.
Is she bothering you? Yes!
Stop bothering them. They're the ones...
They are trying to make a record, Lana,
and there is a finite amount of golden hour.
Which, again...
I know, but if Cherlene's happy...
Outlaw country! Whoo!
Whoo! Exactly. Then I am happy.
Or at least I will be, once we start selling some records.
I'll be happy when I can sleep without
getting up to pee every six minutes.
You think you're not sleeping now?
Wait till that thing's born.
So do yourself and those bosoms
of yours a favor, and get a wet nurse.
That cannot still be a thing.
Preferably one who cooks.
We had a Dominican, just lovely.
Bosoms like... Well, like yours, but umpteen babies later.
My God, Sterling loved her.
She was with us nearly four years.
Now what was her name? I want to say Mariela.
Maricela? Wait. Or Ruby?
I don't... The point is, they steal from you.
It's just the cost of doing business.
Oh. Steal what?
We haven't been paid in months, Malory. I'm pretty much broke.
Join the club. Because believe me, if I had the money,
I would get the hell out of this hillbilly Hilton.
Am I supposed to be recording this?
Krieger! Watch it!
God damn it! Whoa! Ow!
Jug down!
As difficult as that would be.
I'ma plant a red fern for you, jug.
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Item one. Woodhouse, scrape.
Yes, ma'am.
And gripe all you want, but no one is eating eggs, Woodhouse,
until you people start bringing in some money!
But they were already cooked.
What good does it do to throw them away?
None! That's the whole point.
And no cocaine donuts for you!
Oh, come on!
I got to load up my body before Krieger sells it all.
Before what?
Krieger's selling the cocaine online.
Are you insane?
Yeah, if it's insane to use
an X-gen asymmetric onion router and digital cryptocurrency
to sell your cocaine anonymously and completely risk-free.
Or a lot of the other shit I do.
But... So do people e-mail you, or...
No. It's like shopping online, only for cocaine.
I've already sold, wow, almost 800 grand worth.
Really? But how do we get paid?
With a totally untraceable digital currency
that we can exchange for real US dollars whenever we want.
I call 'em Kriegerrands.
And then how do they get the cocaine?
We pack it up and ship it. Easy-peasy.
At least in theory.
Oh, for... I'll send up some help.
And, missy, you had better watch it.
Jesus, these taste like calluses.
Ew! Gross. That's so accurate.
Lana.
La...
What's up her gigantic giant ass?
Probably you shitheads!
What did we do?
Besides keeping everybody up all night
with your damn hootenannies...
Wait, that was a hootenanny?
Has anybody even thought about
throwing her a goddamn baby shower?
Ew! You mean a bastard... Ow!
Cyril, shut your pouthole,
accept the fact that Lana was so far out of your league
that impregnating her would've basically been interspecies breeding,
and get on with your life!
And then go get a cake. Okay, Ray...
Ray, Cyril, go help Krieger pack the cocaine.
Uh, Cherlene, go pick or grin or something. And the rest of you...
We're throwing Lana a baby shower.
We haven't done that yet?
I said move, people!
Go. so. so. so. 90!
Idiots.
All right, I need them here making music and packaging cocaine,
so this baby shower is up to you.
Don't cock it up like you did Texas.
Hey!
Oh, blow it out your ass!
I was hoping you'd do that.
Okay, we should make a list.
Item one, some paper to write said list on.
Item two... Woodhouse! Get in here!
Sir? Here, here's 400 bucks.
Go get all the stuff for a baby shower.
Cake, decorations, some of those water guns shaped like dicks.
I think that's bachelorette parties.
Really? Wow. Okay, that explains...
Uh... Never mind.
And, Woodhouse, if you spend any of this on heroin,
you better buy enough to OD on because...
Will do!
Will don't!
Wait, so if Woodhouse
is getting everything we need for the party, then...
Oh, not everything, Pam.
Because you and I are going to get
Kenny Loggins to play Lana's baby shower.
God damn it.
Pam. Pam.
What?
Danger zone. Wait, wait, wait, no.
This is it.
Yeah, you guys box it up,
I slap on a mailing label from the printer,
bing, bang, boom, it's good to go zoom.
So, why are we in our underwear?
Eh. Don't worry about it.
Because it kind of seems like this is
about you and not really about Lana.
Okay, A, Lana loves Kenny Loggins.
Really? I don't know.
I mean, I assume she does. I do.
Whoa, whoa! Where you think you're going?
Uh, well, to give Mr. Loggins his wardrobe.
Not without a pass you're not.
Yeah, we...
Hey, I appreciate you're just doing your job,
but if Kenny doesn't get
this embroidered hippie shirt and these gigantic bell-bottoms,
I highly doubt you'll have a job tomorrow.
Look, he ain't even here.
He's probably still at the Tuntmore.
Now, was that so hard, neck nuts?
Good instincts back there, Pam.
That's what we field agents call...
Hmm.
Guess I'm not a field agent anymore though.
Man, you got to miss it. What a rush!
Yeah, I miss it, but calm down.
Jesus, it's not like you killed a guy.
Taxi!
Okay, so phase two may call for some field craft.
A, there's no way a superstar like Kenny Loggins
is gonna be registered under his own name.
Yeah. It's not like he's Messina.
Don't do that. Don't ever do that!
Sorry. Jeez!
You should be.
Jim Messina is a genius, and without him, no Poco.
Where was I?
Oh, yeah, we'll probably need to access
the computer terminal at reception,
so just follow my lead.
Could I just follow Kenny Loggins? Wha...
Well, maybe because it's in the rider,
which I'll be happy to come down there and shove up his ass.
Excuse me, Mr. Loggins?
Hi, I'm... Uh-huh.
Wha... What? Uh-huh.
What the shit, Loggins? Ricky, bad touch.
Hands off Mr. Loggins!
Hands off me, Lurch. Look at my suit.
Zap, Ricky, Zap!
Hey... Ah.
Ah. Hang on. Hit him again.
Wait! No, no, no, no, no!
What? I...
What's that? No, no, never mind. It's just a fan.
Oh. Holy shit zaps! Are you okay?
Yeah, and I don't know about you,
but I'm gonna be pretty upset
if I end up having to murder Kenny Loggins.
Meh.
Yeah, that's fair!
Kick out the guy whose custom Super 220 wool suit
was ruined by Kenny Loggins!
And where were you during all that?
Oh, man, I was like, "What?"
So, what's up? What's the plan?
The plan is shut up and come on.
No, we have to play games at the baby shower.
There's Don't Drop the Baby, Dirty Diaper Game...
What in God's name is the Dirty Diaper Game?
Oh, my God, it's hilarious.
You get a bunch of newborn diapers,
then you microwave different candy bars...
Stop! Yeah, let me just stop you there,
because if you finish that sentence,
I'm going to rub cocaine in your eyes until you are blind.
God damn, Shawshank.
Uh, Malory? Wha...
What? What do you want? Jesus.
I, um...
Okay, so, as you know, or should know, I'm pregnant and...
Lana, it's too late to...
Okay, let me stop you. Having the baby.
Don't know why that's such a mindbender for everybody, but...
Well... But... Hush.
I have a lot of pretty major expenses coming up,
and since we haven't been paid...
Oh. Look, I hate to ask, but I need...
WIC!
What? It's like welfare, but for babies.
I don't know, I'm not a Democrat.
But I think they give you a birth cheese.
A birth cheese.
Oh, for... Nothing's ever good enough.
Sorry, I only had $200.
Not you.
Really? $200?
Okay, there's $200 for the uniforms, $100 for the sweet wigs,
and another $300 for Kenny Loggins' room number.
So, I'm curious, why didn't you just
call Cherlene who owns the hotel?
Oh. And I'm curious, why didn't
you remind me about that until just now?
You said shut up, J. Alfred Gotrocks.
What?
We haven't been paid in forever.
Where are you getting all this money?
I sold some artwork.
God damn it!
What did I tell you about staying up on the wall, ghosts?
Okay, since I am, or was,
a world-class secret agent,
when we get up to his room,
do actually follow my lead or...
Hang on, let me grab a name tag.
Ruby! Ruby!
Is there a Ruby? See if there's a Ruby. Is there a Ruby?
It's pretty close to Ruby. No, Pam, it isn't.
Well, why do... Don't worry about it.
Let it go. And give me one of those mints.
Dude, they're cocaine. Oh.
Of course they are.
Right?
All right, here's the penthouse.
Now, I cannot stress this enough, Pam, follow my lead.
Okay.
Room... Housekeeping!
What did I just...
Prostitute!
What the hell is your problem?
Besides my face hurts?
Why do I pay you 20 grand a month?
I don't want to read about Kenny Loggins,
I want to read about K-Log.
Jesus, don't ever get a publicist.
Well, as a lowly room service waiter, I probably won't, but...
Whoa!
Okay.
K-Log didn't order room service.
Sure, you did.
No, I didn't.
A housekeeper and/or prostitute?
You think K-Log needs to pay for sex, do you?
No, but that being said,
I do think he needs to reevaluate this whole K-Log thing.
Oh, yeah? Well, I think you need to reevaluate your face.
My... Oh! Okay. I can explain that.
How? Uh...
Lip chemo?
It's the crazy guy from the lobby!
Which means you're no prostitute.
And that being said,
I am open to blowjobs for money.
I only got 8 bucks on me, but... Pam!
Self-esteem, buddy. Come on.
Now, let's just put the gun down and.. - ...
Mr. Loggins, please advise.
K-Log. K-Log, damn it.
Yeah, I'm kind of with him on that one.
Oh, really?
So you agree with Borgnar's pathetic little errand boy?
Wait, what? And also who?
Well, I'll tell you the same thing
I told Borgnar that night in Caracas.
It's not for sale. At any price.
Who the hell is...
Hyah!
Ricky, attack!
Yeah, Ricky. Ooh!
Aah!
Okay. Okay, good.
Pam, are you good?
Oh, yeah.
Yeah, good, okay. 'Cause this time,
I may actually murder Kenny Loggins.
Wait, wait, wait!
What, Pam?
First see if he wants a beej.
Loggins! Loggins!
Now, look, before either of us
does something we'll both regret, let's...
Okay, that's just unacceptable. Pam, I'm going in!
Okay!
Wow! He really likes the Paco Rabanne.
Tell Borgnar I'll see him in hell!
Urn...
What the shit, Loggins?
Wonder if it's too late to get Messina.
Holy shit.
What kind of colossal idiot would build a pool like that?
I just want to go on record as saying
that a glass swimming pool on the penthouse balcony is,
without a doubt,
the absolute worst idea that I have
ever heard in my entire goddamn life.
But you're the men, so...
But can you imagine banging in that thing?
Why, yes, Archer, yes, I can.
Drop it! Drop it on the ground.
Do you know how bad that is for it?
I will place it on the ground, but...
You think K-Log won't shoot, punk?
No, I think K-Log is out of bullets.
What?
How did you... It's just a thing I do.
Now what the hell is in that briefcase?
As if you don't know.
I honestly don't.
Liar.
Look, I put my weapon down. I'm not a threat.
How would I know what's in...
Pam, no, no, no. Don't, no, don't...
Shit.
Ooh! Okay. So one of...
One fairly predictable thing is gonna happen now, so...
Loggins!
You saved me. But why?
What do you mean, why?
I wanted you to play a baby shower.
Wait, what?
The Dirty Diaper Game, water guns shaped like dicks.
A baby shower.
Oh. So, Borgnar, the briefcase?
I don't know anyone named Borgnar,
and I don't want your crazy briefcase.
What the hell is even in that thing?
Don't worry about it. Just let it go.
I should let you go.
Look, I'm, you know...
Sorry? Um...
More just embarrassed.
Is there some way I can make this all up to you?
A beej! Pam!
And no, Kenny Loggins,
there's no way to make up for almost killing me over a briefcase
full of what I can only assume is either
plutonium or a human soul.
Although, that being said...
It's in D minor. Do you know what that is? Or even what chords are?
Yes. Wow. Snotty.
Okay, fine, so during the boring parts, just scream, "Outlaw country."
Yeah, absolutely not.
Revvin' up your engines
Listen to her howlin' roar
Happy baby shower!
Oh, my God, you guys.
Me first, here!
It's a breast pump. Go ahead and use it now if you want.
I do not want, Krieger, but thank you.
Aw. And thank you, Pam.
It's cocaine!
Aw! Of course it is.
And also, what the hell happened to you?
This big bastard. What big...
Whoa! Uh...
Hi. Um...
This is a car seat.
God damn it!
This whole stupid baby shower was my idea!
Highway to the danger zone
I'll take you right into the danger zone
Here. Oh, wow!
A check. For $80.
Please take me back.
Aw, Cyril.
Who's next?
Well, I suppose me. And all of this.
It's a layette. Onesies, binkies, itty bitty booties...
Blah blah blah.
From baby Bergdorf's.
Oh, my God, it must've been a fortune.
Well, I can afford it.
Apparently, Krieger's online pharmacy is going gangbusters, so...
Pardon me, ma'am. This was delivered for Dr. Krieger.
What... Not now, you shriveled...
Wait a minute. That's the cocaine.
So this whole thing was just a sham?
Well, only if by "sham" you mean "sham."
Oh. Krieger!
Aah! But you were temporarily so happy!
Krieger, get back here!
Yeah!
They never say hello to you
Until you get it on the red line overload
You'll never know what you can do
Until you get it up as high as you can go
Wow! This baby shower
actually went a lot better than I would've imagined.
Right?
And what happened to you?
Your present, Lana, is what happened.
And it's where, exactly?
What, are you kidding? It's...
Right here, miss.
That's my crib! Which I want you to have for the baby.
Archer. Because you're important to me,
so I made Woodhouse
get it from Mother's storage unit, because I own him.
Archer.
Archer, that is the sweetest thing
anybody has ever given me, ever.
Well, yeah.
But, I mean, the big present, obviously, is...
Danger Zone.
The... Lana, the song.
Highway to the danger zone
Right into the danger zone
Oh. Oh, okay.
Danger Zone, Lana.
You know, how I'm always saying, "danger zone"?
Uh... Kind of. Yes.
Well...
It's from a song?
Yes, it's from a song!
Recorded by Grammy winner
and possible Faustian bargain maker
Kenny goddamn Loggins!
Okay, calm down.
So who's Beard Guy? Are you...
That's Kenny Loggins!
From Kenny Loggins Roasters?
Gonna take you right into the danger zone
Highway to the danger zone
Right into the danger zone
Highway to the danger zone
Danger zone
Right into the danger zone
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