- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.addic7ed.com -
If you want to understand what I've done,
there are things you must understand about my daughter.
_
In 1927, I was moonlighting
in the Bureau of Normalcy's American headquarters.
I intercepted a tip that brought me home to London,
- a traveling carnival of grotesques - _
featuring a familiar beast.
A beast who, if real,
was linked to a woman
I'd tried to keep secret from the world.
Tuppence a head, if you will!
- As for the girl, - _
I told myself I would not conjecture
until I could see the beast with my own eyes.
And yet, she was at the front of my mind.
What violence had brought her to this place?
What had she been made to suffer
in the company of this bawdy, illiterate scum?
Misshapes, mistakes, and misfits, ladies and gentlemen.
Snows and toes.
But now, the putrid little primate
that you shelled out your shekels to see.
And here she comes,
a hideous curiosity
captured deep in the icy Yukon wilderness,
the Ape-Faced Girl!
I got something else long and sweet for ya,
Monkey Girl.
Calm yourselves, calm yourselves. She's a...
It was as cruel as I had imagined.
And as real as I'd feared.
A ferocious monster,
tethered to her deranged mind,
the Ape Girl's gruesome pet!
Her beast.
Whether it was a spirit or a familiar
I have yet to fully understand.
Go on, give us a twirl then.
But one thing was certain.
It belongs to a woman I had loved
and left a long time ago...
Around the other way.
... and apparently, it hadn't forgotten me, either.
I said around the other way!
You will obey me!
No! No!
Stop this!
As for what happened next...
... words fail.
How do you know my mother?
Two years later,
she'd barely aged a day.
I had to protect her from the world,
and the world from her.
So, I turned to a friend.
Hello, Danny.
A young, sentient alleyway named Danny.
A loving, teleporting refuge for all people.
_
Danny's agreed to keep you safe...
till you're a little bit older.
And I promise
I'll visit you as often as I can.
Wait.
You're not coming with me?
I wish I could.
But I have to figure out
how to be the best father I can be,
for as long as I can be.
I...
I don't want to lose you again.
And that's precisely it, my dear.
My beautiful...
darling Dorothy.
Yeah, yeah, real weepy shit.
Bet you cried for weeks.
Not what I asked.
I asked about why you did what you did.
To us.
I searched the globe
to find a way to outlive Dorothy
by one day.
My research took me to Paraguay where Eric Morden
was about to trade a longevity talisman
to a scientist in return for superpowers.
So, you shot up the Nazi lab, stole the dumb monkey paw
and Morden became Mr. Nobody.
I saw the puppet show!
What about us?
My longevity was limited.
So I began my experiments in search of true immortality.
Rita,
Larry,
Jane,
and you, Cliff.
But all these years, the only thing keeping me alive
is the talisman hanging around my neck.
Until last night...
when I traded it to Willoughby Kipling
in return for the magical substance that...
returned us to normal size.
Wait, you gave away your longevity
like some kind of asshole?
Then, what was all this for?
Don't think the irony is lost on me.
It was the only way to make things right,
and now my daughter...
will lose her father.
The one who put her in a cage?
The one who can make her feel safe.
Without me,
she will unleash hell on Earth
and you will be powerless to stop it.
Now, Cliff, you know everything.
Not everything.
Tell me about the night of my accident.
I want to hear every fucking detail.
Good morning!
Rise and shine!
Our father is dying.
He's dying.
Ahhh!
What in the Doris Day Ikea fuck was that?
Stay out of our room!
What are we still doing here?
Answer me!
I've tried to tell them.
_
Oh, not this shit again.
You assholes can stay down.
I'm doing just fine.
Good morning, Dorothy.
Good morning, Jane.
We'll work on her manners.
Dorothy.
One of your imaginary friends
stopped by my room this morning.
Something you wanna share with us?
It isn't true.
What isn't true?
Why would one of your friends
say it was true if it wasn't?
What is "it"? What was said?
I overheard Dad and the drunk wizard talking,
but it isn't true.
Oh, for the love of God, what is or is not true?
Niles is dying.
What?
Cliff!
Did you know that Niles is dying?
Oh, yeah, karma's a bitch.
Let that be a lesson to you, kid.
He's not dying!
I'm dying.
But we're all dying.
Nothing to fret over.
But look at your hair.
It's already started.
How old are you, exactly?
139.
Dear God, he's practically dead.
Oh, boy, here come the waterworks.
Vic had the right idea, getting out of this shitbox.
You're really gonna shed tears for the man who killed my wife?
You don't have to tell old Blobberstiltskin here
that Niles Caulder is a flawed man.
But now, he is also a dying man.
His teeth are probably loosening
as we speak.
Soon he'll have no memory of how to take care of himself
or Dorothy.
We could be mere days away from daddy diapers.
- Rita! - Gross.
- I am not changing him. - And why not?
You can't even smell.
I am still here.
You know, she's not wrong.
If Chief croaks,
somebody's gonna have to take care of the girl.
I'm not letting her go to that decrepit asylum
with the old Doom Patrol.
Nobody is going back to that home.
Dorothy was perfectly safe on Danny for 19 years.
And when Danny grows
into something other than a brick...
Which could take ages!
And until then, the only thing keeping Dorothy
from going full wild child is us.
Us? No way!
It's every man, woman and brick for themselves now.
Enough!
I won't have you arguing over this.
You're talking as though I'm already dead.
I will work this out.
What do you mean? You already have.
Moment of truth, Chief,
because this is what you've been planning
for our entire lives.
So what's it gonna be?
Ladies and gentlemen,
is he going to cook his body with radiation
and wrap himself in bandages?
Or, will he inject himself with toxic dye
so he could gloop in the middle of
Dorothy's parent-teacher conference?
Or maybe he's gonna shoot himself up
six ways from Sunday
and hope that one of his 64 personalities
could teach Dorothy how to cash a check.
Better yet, will he yank out that very special brain of his
and become the Tin Man?
And, Chief, if that's your best option,
then you better go smell some roses,
suck on a Bud Light,
fuck a watermelon,
eat a double-double and take a big ol' shit
because all of that is gone!
Every sensation, gone-zo!
Oh, and be sure to hug Dorothy now.
Hug her hard
because hugging your daughter after your Franken-surgery
is gonna rip your heart out
because you can't fucking feel her!
Spin the wheel, Niles Caulder.
Which one of us are you gonna be?
None of us.
Right, Niles?
We're your failed experiments.
Oh, you're looking dapper, Larry.
My son is dead.
Oh, did Chief get him, too?
Shut up, Cliff!
I'm so sorry for your loss.
Uh, it's okay.
I doubt he even knew I existed.
I suggest we each tend to our own.
My fate doesn't concern you anymore.
_
I told her I had her six.
I thought I went to hell and back.
And then...
And then this happened...
out of nowhere.
Felt like it was my fault.
I... I sort of spun out...
thinking of
thousands of ways...
Hang on.
Is there a reason
why the rules don't apply to him, or...
Everyone's late once in a while.
Why not give him a chance?
Take a breath, Roni.
Get back in your lane
and finish your share.
After I got the call...
I couldn't help but think that it was my fault.
And...
I'm sorry.
I can't do this.
All right.
Who else wants to share?
No one?
Really?
I think I speak for the group when I say,
no one is gonna wanna share with Cyborg in the room.
Everyone knows the dude's face is a camera.
Might as well be broadcasting your trauma on TV.
Is that true?
It's not that simple. I don't really have a choice.
If I'm powered up, the camera's on.
Group is a safe space.
We don't allow recording devices of any kind.
You need to turn it off if you wanna stay.
No, then I'd have no defense system.
That would leave me vulnerable.
That's kind of the point of a trauma group.
Thanks.
Any chance you wanna share?
We'd like to get to know you.
Tell us why you're here.
Okay.
My name is Vic.
Actually, I'm just gonna listen today.
Dorothy?
Please, talk to me.
Ahhh!
Knock knock!
Who's there?
Armageddon.
Armageddon who?
Armageddon tired of all this knocking.
Very funny, Dorothy.
That was Herschel, not me.
I don't know what you've been told...
Nothing is going to happen to me.
You can't promise that!
You're going to die...
soon.
And I don't even know how to do anything.
Who's going to teach me how to drive,
how to cook things?
Who's going to walk me down the aisle at my wedding?
I will find a way. I promise.
I could make a wish...
Dorothy... never, ever...
Not for me, not for anything.
Do you understand me?
Yes.
I'm sorry.
Now, that's what I'm talking about!
RIP Chief! Time to hit the open road.
Where are we going?
I'm not leaving. I'm moving back in.
After everything that bastard did to us?
We're big now, Jane.
We can go anywhere.
What's with this "we" shit?
There is no "we".
I... need Chief.
You can do whatever the fuck you want.
Birthday party entertainer, trash compactor...
your options are endless, but also less than five.
Why do you need him?
Because shit's getting weird in the Underground.
And the one thing that was keeping me on the surface
just ran out, okay?
I don't know how much longer I have
before the rest of me has their way.
Wait, what's that supposed to mean?
Jane, do you need help?
- Not unless you're a chemist. - Come on.
That's what you think you need?
All you gotta do is talk to me.
What's going on, you know, in there?
This co-dependent routine is getting stale, Cliff.
Go, stay... do whatever you want,
just don't do it for me.
Okay, for the record,
I am not dependent on anybody.
I am my own robot.
It's not enough.
It'll never be enough!
I'm trying not to take this personally.
Take what personally?
That you're throwing a pity party
and you didn't invite me.
Rita...
I've made a terrible mess of things.
Understatement.
Look, if I can't apply this mess
into something useful,
I don't see the point of anything, really.
And if I'm trying, then you are, too.
So, snap out of it.
You've had lifetimes to plan for this.
Surely there was a plan B.
You were plan B.
C, then?
Could be plan F, for all I care.
But you're not going to mope around
while death catches up to you.
What is this? What are you looking at?
Ah! Don't touch that.
That's continuinium,
a rare mineral that can bend time.
- Continue... - "... inium".
- Continuinium. - No, I mean continue...
- Keep talking. - It doesn't matter.
There isn't enough.
But this sounds promising, Niles.
I mean, time is what you need, after all.
Where do we get more?
Continuinium does not exist naturally
on Earth.
It was discovered in a meteorite
on a beach in Bali
by... one man.
"The Journal of Doctor Jonathan Tyme".
T-Y-M-E.
It's not a real name.
He was a normal man.
Just as real as you or I.
He was on a journey of spiritual awakening.
A meteorite struck,
and when he laid his hands on the glowing crystals therein...
he went mad.
Able to manipulate time itself.
These journal entries are dated 4067,
1776, 6000 BCE.
He continued his little walkabout
through every era of history,
continuinium in hand.
As he traveled, his legend grew
and he became known as "The Terrible Dr. Tyme".
T-Y-M-E.
And he stuck with that spelling?
Well, then...
how do we find this Doctor Tyme?
You're not gonna rust?
I'm not sorry.
For the whole camera face thing.
Things said in Group, need to stay in Group.
You shouldn't apologize.
You're not sorry,
and I'm not upset.
I'm grateful, actually.
I'm new to this. I don't know the rules.
And I'm sorry for interrupting your share.
Don't be.
Saying the same shit for months.
Sounds like you went through hell in the war.
I wasn't talking about the war.
I was talking about my mother's death.
Just because I'm a vet
doesn't mean my whole life is defined by my service.
Sorry, I...
That's what I get for showing up late.
And making assumptions.
For what it's worth, I lost my mother, too.
How did she die?
Accident.
Yours?
Same.
Look, I get it...
the guilt, the replaying...
the sadness that creeps in every day...
but that's not actually why I'm here.
I'm dealing with some kind of post-traumatic stress.
Don't bother delineating.
If I went to a different support group for every trauma,
diagnosis and "ism" I've got,
it'd be a full-time job.
I guess we're a bunch of Venn diagrams, aren't we?
Yeah.
Some messier than others.
Hey, do you wanna grab a bite
and not talk about our moms?
Imagine a world...
- A world that time forgot. - _
A world where all you have is time.
A world where time is of the essence.
Stop saying "time".
Where it's our time to shine.
What the fuck is that?
- You forgot... - That's how it's spelled.
Okay.
This is an artist's rendition of Dr. Tyme.
Did Dorothy draw that?
I drew it. Please focus.
Dr. Tyme is a history-hopping madman
who, according to the Chief, wears a special helmet
that may contain enough continuinium...
It's a space mineral that can control time.
And if we can steal this man's helmet,
we may be able to slow the Chief's aging.
It seems like you got it all figured out.
Wait, you want us to steal
some douchebag's helmet for the Chief?
Will this continuum shit
stop the Chief from locking up his daughter for another century?
At the very least, he'll be alive long enough to find other options.
You aren't seriously considering...
Maybe I am.
Because you and half the Underground
can't seem to remember that I'm generally opposed
to putting little girls in cages...
Holy fucking...
... so as long as I'm on the surface, I'm helping.
I can't believe we're even being asked
to bail out the Chief after what he's done.
I draw the line. I'm out.
I agree with Cliff.
I've told Rita, it is too dangerous.
I have sent three Bureau of Normalcy agents
after Dr. Tyme over the years.
None of them have returned.
Hold on... You don't want us to go?
That's correct.
You don't want us to extend your life?
Not like this.
- Is this reverse psychology? - No.
Then fuck it. I'm in!
Oh, goodie!
Dr. Tyme is encapsulated in a temporal sphere
orbiting somewhere between space and time.
You could just say "time capsule".
I cannot stress enough,
once you're inside Dr. Tyme's time capsule,
you must be on your guard.
He wields time both as a lure and as a weapon.
It's highly likely you'll be walking straight into a trap.
Continuinium, it's highly volatile.
When you acquire it... if you acquire it,
don't touch it!
Hold up, isn't that just purple Boggle salt?
By creating this traversable wormhole,
you'll be able to travel into Dr. Tyme's capsule and return.
With Boggle salt?
Step into the temporal gateway.
Fuck it.
Now, hold hands
and say where you were and what you were doing
on August the 8th at midnight, 1980.
- I think I was... - Wait, no. Not yet.
- You must say it clockwise. - Oh, my God.
- Can we do this already? - On my count.
One, two, three.
I was here, knitting.
I was here, sleeping.
I had just finished qualifying to race in Tampa Bay, Florida,
asleep in my RV.
It seems someone is mis-remembering.
Or lying.
What? I didn't... I...
Okay, fine.
On my count. One, two, three.
I was here, knitting.
I was here, sleeping.
Fine, fuck.
I was in Tampa in the supply closet of the Peking Noodle,
up to my nose in boobs and ground up Sudafed with Jalinda the waitress.
Oh! And there was a tub of Crisco...
Remember, don't touch the continuinium.
Fuck you for making me relive the Peking Noodle.
Remember, the Chief said to be careful.
Fucking fuck him!
Hello?
What the fuck?
# Toot toot, hey, beep beep #
# Bad girls #
# Talking 'bout the sad girls #
I'm sorry I made fun of your drawing.
# Sad girls #
Do you think the stuff is in his helmet?
It must be that purple doohickey in the middle.
- Well, let's go get it. - Wait.
# See them out on the street at night #
# Picking up all kinds of strangers #
Shit! You didn't tell me Dr. Tyme had a freeze ray.
That's because it's not a freeze ray,
it's a time ray.
# But you want a good time #
Ooh! Cool cats.
You ready to get down and jive in the best of times?
Uh...
I'm Dr. Jonathan Tyme, with a "Y"
because why not?
And you... you are Rita Farr.
Wow, big fan!
Ha! Go on.
Let's lose the static and get down
because this is my zone.
You're either in the party or you out the party.
You feel me?
# Sad girls #
# Talking 'bout bad bad girls #
Go!
Have fun.
What the fuckin' fuck!
All I'm saying is,
they're not a snack, they're a side.
No, no, no. So, you're tellin' me
if you could eat onion rings every day
- with no consequences... - No, no.
That's what makes them good.
Greasy, sinful consequences.
- They were good, though. - Yeah.
I'm glad we did this.
Me, too.
I'll walk you home?
I'm good.
See you in Group?
Hey!
Argh!
Motherfucker!
- You okay? - I was in Fallujah in '04.
That was not okay.
This right here, is city living.
Damn, girl. Those are some moves.
Cops are on their way.
What? No. I didn't ask you to call them.
On a mugging?
It's kind of standard procedure.
He's just a kid.
Do me a solid,
give him a second chance.
According to his priors,
this would be his third chance.
Then give him a third chance.
The more this kid is in the system,
the harder it is for him to get out of it.
And if he doesn't experience the consequences,
then he's heading there anyway.
Are you really that confident in your moral compass?
No. I just didn't know this mugging was my only chance
- to solve systemic injustice in America. - All I'm saying is,
this kid needs more protection than I do.
Yeah, and most mugging victims
aren't some cane-wielding badasses.
- Badass? - Badass alert.
Oh, yeah, I'm... I'm a real hero.
You want to know how I got all these mad skills?
The poverty draft.
Because I had no other option
and no one to warn me that it came with a lifetime of pain.
With respect to your service,
all I'm saying is the next time he tries to mug some...
What if there isn't a next time?
What if this is the moment
that this kid turns his life around?
What if we put him on the right path?
Wave the magic wand of forgiveness
- and suddenly he's not a criminal. - Okay, you're not listening to me.
Nobody should be judged by the worst thing they ever did.
Get out of here, kid.
What?
Nothing.
Okay.
He didn't keep a lot of friends...
but his loyalty to his family was fierce.
_
He was funny. He was smart enough to get the joke.
I never was,
but he was a good brother and he loved me all the same.
We love you, Gary.
You are already missed.
You a member of Gary's club?
Pirate Radio Truthers, Team Tinfoil Hat?
No offense.
I... I don't know anything about that.
Say something else.
Yeah, Paul,
it's me. Your dad.
You're alive.
Gary was right.
Don't even know what to do with that.
Yeah, I know.
It's a lot.
Yeah, if my brother had known killing himself
would have made our dad show up,
he probably would have done it sooner.
Oh, Christ, I'm sorry. That sounded...
- No. No, it's okay. - No, no, it's...
Yeah, it's a lot.
Your ride?
Your grandson, actually.
We're having a... a gathering at his place.
46 Acorn Street.
Picked up a bunch of Gary's favorite treats.
Chocolate malts?
You got it.
You should come.
All right, folks, it's time for couples skate.
# Toot toot, hey, beep beep #
No, no, no!
Oh, no.
- Not this fucking song. - Not this fucking song again.
Fuck!
This is as good as it ever got, baby.
I've seen it all. Every era.
This right here, August 8th, 1980,
at a roller disco off I-95,
this is where humanity peaked.
Come on.
I'm trying.
I was hoping you were here for more than my continuinium.
I don't know what you...
Well, surely you already knew that, uh,
- seeing the future and all. - Hmm.
I prefer to live in the moment, baby.
Besides, many have come for this,
but none have succeeded.
This is nuts. We don't have time for this shit.
Find some skates and get out there.
Why the fuck would you assume that I know how to skate?
Do I always have to clarify this?
Does any one-sixty-fourth of you
know how to skate?
Or chew lightning,
- or anything helpful? - Maybe.
But the others are sort of... doped.
This, Jane, is why
we don't do drugs.
I can't.
I can't. I can't.
- I can't. - Sh... shit.
Ain't nobody stopping this party.
No more "Bad Girls".
Oh, shit!
Rita, what did you do?
You told me to grab his helmet!
That's not his helmet, that's his head.
Holy shit! The continue brain thingie is loose!
_
I am not babysitting my nemesis's kid.
Hey, you Niles's guys?
Fuck you, government asswipes.
I swear to God, I thought it was a helmet.
Grab the brain, asshole!
- Satan, be gone! - Help me.
No!
Hang in there.
I've seen your like from birth to death, Gertrude Cramp,
Your mother was right about you.
No matter what, or how hard you try,
you'll never be anything but a fraud.
What did you say?
I said, you're out of the party.
Oh, thank heavens.
Did you get it?
Of course we didn't.
Another adventure, another trigger, what else is fuckin' new?
Did you know the thing
we were going after wasn't a headpiece?
- It was a guy's head. - I warned you.
My research was thin.
Oh, but confident enough to call him terrible
even though he was just some self-absorbed putz.
It seems to me like you wanted a hit squad
to invade a time capsule
- and murder a guy. - I asked for no such thing.
For the last time, I never asked for...
Stop saying that.
You turned us into what we are.
And now I can only do one thing,
and we can't even do that.
_
I'm so sorry.
Father in heaven, we beseech you, cast away the demons
who have grown in Kay Challis these seven years.
Cast away the spirit and return Kay to our flock.
Restore her to her ever-suffering mother.
Please, Momma, help me.
Lord, we praise you with all our hearts,
and we know that Satan cannot abide where you are present.
Feel your presence.
Prince of Darkness, you are not welcome.
Satan!
Be gone!
I'll tear your face off!
Help me.
We deserve this.
Kay, let me go up for you.
Who is this lady?
Just give them Kay. If we don't,
we'll all die.
No, the girl stays safe.
I can do this, Kay.
I know what you want.
Let me go up for you.
Okay.
Thank you, brother.
Oh, I see the light.
I am saved!
Hallelujah!
_
Let's be clear, Elena.
No amounts of holy water
will ever purify the sins you allowed to go on in your home,
and if you want your sinful compliance to stay buried,
then you will call me... Miranda.
I've never seen this before.
Why am I watching Miranda's memory?
I'm being neutral here.
Listen, if you want to remain his primary
while we get through this rough patch,
then so be it.
But, you know, change isn't all bad.
You're saying that Miranda would be a better primary.
Newsflash, she threw herself into the fucking well.
You don't have to remind me,
but before that, long before any of us
were subjected to meta-human experimentation,
Miranda was... powerful.
Hey.
What made her so powerful?
She knew what the girl wanted.
What made her so powerful?
She knew what the girl wanted.
Maybe it is time for a change.
What?
Can you help me?
No, I can't help you, and I can't help your father.
I'm an utter failure, and I can't even help myself.
Not that kind of help.
Now lightly whip the egg batter into a froth.
Clara was deemed expendable.
My daughter was expendable,
but yours has cost how many lives?
How is your kid more important than mine?
When backed into a corner, I will do anything
for my daughter.
Like chop me up.
Not if I can fucking help it.
- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.addic7ed.com -