Entourage
The Script & The Sherpa

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Meat Is Murder

Val takes a five-minute-long toke off a hookah while he plays with Fiona's feet. It's boring like you think. They're in this harem room place with a million pillows and candles, of course. Val Kilmer has strange old man thighs, I can see them clearly through his sherpa costume. Eric sucks tinily on the hookah and everybody watches how much Val can suck. It's a lot. There's some stupid fucking high pot talk about dimensions we can't even see and stuff like that and they think he's so tough and awesome? Except Turtle, who's awesome, because he's like, "That's so cool, but can I have some pot, though? Thanks." And then there's more pot talk -- rhyming now! -- that you don't even need to know about. Just make up whatever. Imagine if there was a TV show and all these assholes did pot and weren't even that smart to begin with. What you're thinking? Is automatically better than this scene. They laugh at Val Kilmer making an ass of himself.

Not the sherpa. Val Kilmer.

Eric's phone rings, and I think maybe Marky Mark is confused because this scene is now from Boogie Nights. Marky? That never happened, it was just a movie. Your penis is just fine the way it is. Val Kilmer screams his weird old man ass off and pulls a gun on Eric and out of nowhere this Rasta dude with a red-yellow-and-green crocheted hat jumps out of some box labeled "retarded stereotypes" and there are guns everywhere and everyone's kind of startled and scared. Then Val backs down and sends the other dude back in the RS box, and he's all, "It's cool, it's just a cell phone." Like what the fuck did he think it was? Seriously. Some kind of beeping bomb in Eric's pants that shoots out search warrants and tiny cops that get big when you put them in water? They laugh forever. Adrenaline. And pot.

On the phone is Ari, of course, and he has the tanning booth things over his eyes so it's twice as funny when he says, "Call me Helen Keller because I'm a fucking miracle worker," which is almost literate, almost correct, almost worth getting paid as a writer and contributing member of society. Call me "Annie Sullivan" I guess, because I'm a fucking bitter writer who also happens to be blind and deaf. Anyway, Ari set up dinner with Scott Wick, his best friend and the producer of Queens Boulevard. "And tell Vince to wear something tight," he says, because Scott Wick is -- the inference is, I guess, that even though Scott Wick lives in L.A.? He also sort of lives on Queens Boulevard, if you get my meaning. So he should fit right in with this crowd. What I UTTERLY LOVE about this is that Ari and Wick are "best friends." And he's still like, "My best friend Scott Wick is a flaming homo," which is either totally surprising or not at all, considering Ari's sexual baggage, because I can see him being all, "I'm not out to prove anything. My best friend is Scott Wick!" And anyway, not only that, but he's like, "Here's how you defeat his queer powers and make him bow down to your will!" Ari Gold, ladies and gentleman. World's Worst Best Friend. Because this will not end well. I guess if Scott Wick disappeared for no reason like Chipette did, it would be okay. But I think the writers like the character too much -- I know I did, in the end -- so he'll probably end up dead by his own hand or something stupid. Then we go back to the episode and everything that already happened? Happens again. Vince's like, fuck that movie I don't want to work with Scott Wick that doesn't like me -- just like he did to Shauna! And Eric says there are no other good scripts so he needs to do this and Vince ignores him -- just like he did to Eric before! And Fiona tells Vince that to know him is to love him, and convinces him with a word or two to go through with the meeting -- just like she did before! And Eric gets pissed -- again! Fuck this fucking show.

At the restaurant Eric connects the dots for Vince, who is not wearing anything remotely tight except his smile as Eric bitches about the controlling of Vince by Fiona and asks where Vince's balls are. "I love her and I want to marry her," Vince says. Eric freaks. Vince laughs and says Fiona's going to India for four months at the end of the week so it's fine. The Home of School and Light and Women Characters That Were Too Interesting or Funny, I think. Scott Wick now fags up, all pissy gaybo wolverine dude, and says let's make this snappy, and then at the table they bring the caviar, and Wick says, "Mmm, beluga," and Vince says excuse me? because he's never had caviar or something stupid and caviar reminds Wick of "a cold winter night in Novgorod" and Eric asks where that is, because he's never heard of Russia or caviar or anything ever or something stupid. And Vince goes BOOM and totally pulls it out. He leans across to Scott Wick and gives him a little taste of the charm about how Eric didn't know that because he dropped out of college and looks deeply into his eyes and looks down at his menu again because he's been doing this to lonely old men since he was in the third grade and that was how he paid for his acting lessons. I made that up but that's totally the face he's making, like, I got this Wick prick in the bag and he doesn't even know it yet and I personally...Vince might be my hero. Eric tries and asks about Wick's dad. Like that's not going to be a hot potato. Wick pere was an American diplomat (this is probably a big funny in-joke about some gay producer or something but I hate this show so we don't care). "That's nice. My father was a douche bag," Vince says from beneath his eyelashes, which bat coquettishly, and then the wind from them caresses Wick's tired old man face. Eric is like playing out his central issue because he's trying to be all slick about how he's getting the New York Strip because he grew up in New York, just like in the movie script? But we're playing a whole other game here. Of which Vince is suddenly the Bobby Fischer.

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