KENDALL ROY:
It's high tide.
♪ ("SUCCESSION" THEME MUSIC PLAYS) ♪
-Hi. -Can I help you, sir?
I'm actually here to see you.
SECURITY GUARD: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Stand back!
-(GRUNTS) -(GREG HIRSCH WHIMPERS)
SECURITY GUARD: Who are you, huh?
Look at you. You look like, you know,
an actual human person.
SHIV ROY: Aw, thanks, buddy.
I do not like you very much, and I do not like your politics.
You bust in here, guns in hand,
and now you find they've turned to fucking sausages.
If you need any help, any advice,
just, you know, don't fucking bother. Okay?
Hey, what's poppin', Malala Roy?
Beautiful Ichabod Crane, fuck you.
Fuck you, Plastic Jesus.
Says the person whose husband was just called,
"a smirking block of domestic feta."
Go on, fuck off back there, Tumbledown Dick.
King Kong coming out to dance with me.
What a fucking egocentric great white!
-ROMAN ROY: The calvary has arrived. -Here I am. I made it.
-Great, it's so essential you're here. -CONNOR ROY: Thanks.
You're the best.
-Thank you! -Fuck off!
What have you had your entire life
that I didn't give you?
Right now, I'm the real you.
Sure. You're the real me.
You are a fucking nobody.
So, go hard, go fast. Go, you lovely bastards.
"Go, you lovely bastards"?
What the fuck am I supposed to say?
Con, maybe don't abandon me with Larry Lech here.
He's a huge donor.
Yeah, maybe I don't want to donate my body
to political science, huh?
HUGO BAKER: Okay, everybody, just be casual. Relax. Smile.
Sure, I give good cheekbone.
-He's smiling. -It's no good if he's smiling.
(CHUCKLES)
You wanna talk?
Why would I wanna talk?
(IN BABY VOICE) You mean... talk about the big shit?
SHIV: (IN BABY VOICE) Yeah, we can talk about the big shit.
We can talk about... our feelings.
(LAUGHTER)
I might say something, but not to worry
'cause it's not real.
Yeah, it's words. Words are just complicated airflow.
-(ANGRY YELLING) -Duh!
(NONSENSICAL MUTTERING, BLOWS RASPBERRY)
Why didn't you just talk to me?!
Oh, fuck off.
"You can't make a Tomlette without breaking some Greggs."
You sent the same email to him 67 times in one evening.
I'm asking where you heard about this.
Tom, it's tough to have to tell you like this,
but I'm in a sexual relationship with your mother.
She talks in her sleep.
Is it possible your father is
the worst human being who ever lived?
I might have been a bit of a spotty mother,
but you've been a shitty daughter.
Nice vest, Wambsgans. It's so puffy.
What's it stuffed with, your hopes and dreams?
Roman, you're a moron.
Are we talking to each other on the poop deck
of a majestic schooner?
No? Then why the fuck are you wearing
-a pair of deck shoes, man? -Oh...
Forks are to be placed thusly.
This is how they do it at a Dakota dude ranch.
This is how we do it at the RECNY ball.
Now, please go check every other fork.
This was supposed to be choreographed.
That's about as choreographed
as a dog getting fucked on roller skates!
So, I hereby convene the meeting of the newly formed
"What the fuck are we gonna do?" committee.
Can we just say fuck 'em?
Fuck Congress?
Yes, fuck Congress. Have I shocked you?
-What the fuck is going on? -ROMAN: It's fine.
-Can you leave, please? -KENDALL: What is that?
That is an imaginary cat. Now, could you please fuck off?
This is the safe room. This is the panic room.
How is it safe?!
-TOM WAMBSGANS: Calm down! -It's just a room!
They can waft gas in here.
A person can fit through there.
A person can definitely fit through that window.
A small person. An attack child.
I am surrounded by snakes and fucking morons!
Watching you people melt down is the most satisfying activity.
(YELLS)
We're all trying to do our best, so just fuck off!