- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.addic7ed.com -
# This could be the last of all the rides we take #
# So hold on tight and don't look back #
# And you only live forever in the lights you make #
# When we were young we used to say #
How long have you felt like this?
Kay?
Whoa!
Whoa, you're getting so big.
Kay and I were just having a little morning session,
if you don't mind.
Since when do you give Kay sessions?
I just said my feet hurt. See?
Oof!
Well, you know, Driller Bill has some killer unicorn Band-Aids.
I don't want Band-Aids. I want new shoes.
And we were discussing whether or not that was a good idea.
What's the big deal? I'll just go pick some up.
What if I go?
I don't know what size I am now.
I need to try them on myself.
You want to go up?
But as I was explaining to Kay, there are rules in place.
The Underground is a delicate ecosystem,
and brash decisions affect us all.
Brash decisions?
This is her body. Everything here is hers.
So if she wants to go up, then...
She's a little girl,
and she cannot make these decisions alone.
And she won't, because I'm here.
You don't have the right.
Hey.
God! Do you get off on being a cranky old bitch?
Kay wants to go up. I think that's a good thing.
Is it?
Fuck off.
We all ate a piece of it, Jane. We're all a part of this.
Whatever decisions need to be made, and whatever happens,
we are all a part of it.
- How goddamn cute is that? - _
Check it out.
The Steele family biceps coming in already!
He's going to be one hell of a pitcher.
Or whatever he wants to be.
No pressure, only support.
L-M-F-A-O.
Do you even know what that means?
Yeah. Love my fucking awesome offspring.
What?
Where did you get these exactly?
World Wide Web, baby.
You want it? They got it.
_
Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey. Rule number one of the Internet.
Don't click pop-ups.
- But I wa... - Hey.
Pay attention.
Okay, um, recommended dosage, take two capsules.
Check. Take with food. Check.
It says here that you should start
to see improvement in a couple of months.
Couple months?
What the hell?
Booyah. Be right back.
"May take up to two to three months to become effective".
Three whole months?
Ha! Eat shit, Parkinson's.
I don't get it.
I didn't like the thought of my son running around
without any way to protect himself.
What about S.T.A.R. Labs?
I've disabled their tracking and surveillance protocols.
This is our little secret.
Are you sure that's a good idea?
Dad?
I'm sorry, Vic.
Obviously, that word has been lacking in my vocabulary,
but I'm saying it now, and I mean it.
I never wanted to be the kind of dad
who pushes his son down some preconceived path.
Maybe turning into one's own father is an unavoidable tragedy.
Great.
Hey, now.
Cyborg was never meant to be a means to reinvent you.
I know.
Vic, if this is something you don't want anymore...
That's not what I'm saying.
I appreciate what you're doing for me.
And what you did.
Um... Sorry, I gotta take this.
We can talk more soon, if you want.
You know where to find me.
Call terminated.
It's gone, without a trace.
- You sure? - Trust me.
I can spot a clogged pore upstage left from a mezzanine.
Hmm.
Maybe it was all part of the zombie thing.
Please, no more talk of the Z-word,
or anything pertaining to that day in question, thank you.
Sorry. Sorry.
I'd do well enough never to hear the word "brain" again either.
Nevertheless...
I suppose this means you aren't dying.
Huh?
- What? - Oh, it's just...
Uh...
What? Oh, my God!
- Don't panic. - Don't panic?
Well, clearly, it's not a tumor, because tumors don't move.
There is a thing underneath my skin,
running around my body.
Oh.
Team meeting, three minutes.
- What? - Three minutes!
Okay.
Hey!
You can't call team meeting.
You're not a team leader.
And we're not even a team!
Hey, Doctor Who.
Did you get us all in here
so we can watch you do your Kegels,
or did you actually have something to say?
The next time you have a question, young lady,
I suggest you raise your hand, okay?
The Ant Farm. Do you recall a jailbreak
your merry band orchestrated there some time ago?
Uh, yeah?
Of course!
That's why I'm here.
You freed them,
those insidious, cutthroat terrorists.
Terrorists?
- The Sisterhood of Dada. - The Sisterhood of what?
These escapees, you want to find and corral them?
No, actually, I'd like you to kill them.
We are not the kind of people that kill people.
Unless they're Nazis or butts.
Yeah, and not to mention,
I was a prisoner of the Ant Farm.
We all were. And we're not bad people.
What makes you so sure that the Sisterhood of the Dada are?
What exactly is Dada?
Uh, it's just this insufferable thing the French came up with
so they could make crude nudie films and call it art.
Really?
I thought it was that thing where you do bad shit,
the universe does bad shit to you.
- That's Karma, dick slit. - Oh.
Exhibit A, left behind in one of their cells
after your little jailbreak.
"The eternal flatulation is coming".
The insignia was also found in Prague,
Mumbai, Wellington and Kuala Lumpur,
and dozens of other cities throughout the globe.
Striking evidence of a global conspiracy.
Luckily, Jones also tracked them
to what appears to be their current location.
_
They're close.
Why does it say "join us?"
For what exactly?
Oh, it's probably nothing, dear.
You know, I'm sure I just crawled through the earth currents
of time and space to simply sit around drinking weak tea
in a halfway house for a bunch of self-loathing layabouts.
Ouch.
Or maybe I came here,
because something very big and very ugly,
an eternal flagellation, perhaps, is set to occur,
and it needs to be stopped.
Oh. And you don't want to do this yourself because?
Uh, they'd spot me a mile off. Right?
Bird or no bird.
Fine.
If you won't dirty your little pacifist hands,
then, all I ask is for you to observe and report.
And how do you want us to do that exactly?
They said, "Join us", so, join, infiltrate.
Ahem.
What?
If we do this, will you go away forever?
Ooh!
Yeah, probab...
- Cool. - I'm down.
All right, Rita, you come with me.
You're not team leader.
Right there, in the glass cabinet.
- Is that... me? - Yes.
And why is that you?
I knew it. I knew it!
Rita Farr, world-renowned time-traveler. It's true!
Uh-huh. So you admit it?
Admit it? I'm overjoyed.
Oh, I thought I was going mad after I saw myself,
but there's the proof.
Prepare to eat your words, Larry Trainor.
Yeah, I suppose, but, I...
- Uh... - Laura?
Hello?
Hang a left up here, Larry. Now!
I got it. I got it.
Jeez, Vic, don't get too excited,
or we'll have to get the bus detailed.
Hey, Van Gogh, what the fuck?
Cliff... you okay?
Whoa.
Is it just me, or are you extra shiny today?
Man, what the hell?
You know, I was a little skeptical about those pills,
but... Whoa! Look at my hands.
- They're amazing. - What pills?
They're his new meds. They're not supposed to...
Cliff, how many did you take?
- You do not want to know. - What the hell is wrong with you?
Those are dopamine stimulators.
- Boop. - Get your hands away from me.
Oh, my God. Larry!
You have a neck zit.
Oh... Oh, my God.
Don't worry, I got it.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
- Cliff, sit down. - Squish it!
Get away from me. Get away from me.
Oh, God!
God.
Whoa.
So grey.
This has gotta be the sisterhood, right?
_
Grid's lost signal.
But yeah.
Everyone stay close.
Let's go, motherfuckers!
- Cliff! God damn it. - Wait.
Great. Awesome.
How does this crap keep happening to us?
Because no one else gets sent on a mission
by a time-traveling bird lady to go hunt down some art freaks
who pissed off a half-man, half-butt monster
who may be trying to destroy the world.
Yeah, got it.
Uh, someone should stay with the bus.
What?
I'm not completely useless without "it", you know?
But you're right. Someone should stay with the bus.
Smell you later, bacne boy.
Hey.
Ow. God.
My mother wasn't exactly an oracle of clever thought,
but she was wise about one thing.
There's nothing a martini, or three can't fix.
Well, sometimes it takes a couple more than three.
Okay, good.
It's dead, Rita.
My body elephant's deceased.
Cremated under a burning hearth of doubt.
- Oh, no. Why? - Why? Why?
Why, indeed, and who and what.
Then, Niles's head...
told me about a letter he wrote some years ago.
The things he says about me.
Disloyal.
Conniving. Danger... Oh!
Pish-posh. Ha!
Who knows what drove that manipulative old insect to write this?
Okay, look, the others will be back before you know it,
and I'm sure whatever they derive from the Dada folk will help.
Mmm. Well, yeah, about that.
Um, you know, I have no idea,
what the Sisterhood of Dada will yield.
Every time I think I've found another vital piece of the puzzle,
you know, you, the film, that letter, it's just...
I can manage the despair of not knowing my history,
my favorite song, or my favorite color,
not knowing if I have loved, or have been loved,
but this polarizing pool inside...
You know, one moment, I recall an endless joy...
Hmm.
... and the next, an... An impenetrable hatred.
Like I could very well be the woman in that letter.
Ah, here I am, yeah.
Pouring my heart and soul out like some dizzy old housewife.
To you, of all people.
Oh, I...
Apparently, my name is Laura De Mille.
Perhaps, I came from decades ago
to maybe hunt some malicious evil.
It's ridiculous. All of it.
And that is truly dreadful.
Well, sometimes, you just have to fake it till you make it. Ha!
Apparently, I'm a time traveler who makes films,
and has allies in the afterlife.
I don't feel worthy of that either,
but I have to believe that
eventually, my purpose or destiny
will come snatch me from this infernal stasis.
In the meantime, I drink.
Oh, drink.
And make friends.
Mmm-hmm.
Wow.
That's some... Phew! That was very good.
However, I do not think that my destiny
can quite come and snatch me up when it's on ice.
There's no way for me to get home again.
The time machine is broken,
and no amount of faking it will fix it.
About that.
Oh, Rita Farr.
What are you?
Toad bonnet bee. Thatcher's blue bum.
I am so fucking high.
- Whoa. - Whoa.
- Did you just... - Did you just...
Wow.
Whoa!
Shit.
Sorry, didn't mean to...
Okay.
Cherry two-ball screwballs? Fuck, yeah!
What the fuck?
Cliff?
Narc-bot 2000.
Jane!
Hammerhead?
Where are you?
She never listens.
Get the fuck back here!
Jane.
Mind closing the door?
It's a nasty draft and all that.
Don't worry. They can't bother you in here.
Who's they?
You know, the others, the Underground.
- How the fuck did you... - Ah! I didn't mean to pry. Trust me.
And in fact, you're the one that's inside my head.
You all are. You and the superhero, and the robot,
the little radioactive mummy, is it?
Anyway, as much as I enjoy a good party,
you're the one I wanted to talk to, Jane.
Just you.
You separated me from the rest of the Underground?
From all but one little voice.
Kay?
There's more on the bottom shelf here, love.
There's some chocolate buttons too.
Yeah.
How is this...
What do you mean we're inside your head?
Well, that's what this is.
Oh, my manners. Pardon me.
I'm Shelley Byron. Also known as The Fog...
if you like, as you like.
You care for a little red velvet?
The frosting is seraphic.
- You're with the Sisterhood. - Beguiling and perceptive.
What a combination.
You sure I can't tempt you with something...
Something sweet?
You said you wanted to talk.
- So let's talk. - All right.
- I wanna join the Sisterhood. - Join...
Did I stutter?
All right, then. Answer me this.
Who are you, Jane?
Cliff?
Hey.
Hey, brother.
I'm here to join, this the place?
Brother, why are you?
Where in the fuck...
Oh, hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to...
Uh, actually, I have no idea how I...
_
I'm Jane. You already know that.
Yes. But who are you?
My God. Really?
- This is what we're doing? - Yes.
Fine. I'm the person who's gonna rip your eyes out
if you touch one hair on that little girl's head.
Oh, amazing.
But still doesn't really answer the question.
Cool. How about you go first?
Who the fuck are you
and what the fuck are you and the Sisterhood planning,
because I'm guessing you weren't leaving bread crumbs
all across the world just so that we can sit here
and talk in your weird Candyland fuck-pad.
Mmm.
You're here for the Eternal Flagellation.
Sure. What the fuck is it?
Oh. Well, the Eternal Flagellation,
it's a vulture cleaning the carcass of an overfed sow.
A powdered donut sinking into an outhouse pit.
Wow.
That's some art-school level pretentious bullshit.
Well, maybe that's what I am, Jane.
Pretentious bullshit.
Manure coursing through my shrunken veins,
but at least I know.
And the question still remains, dear Jane.
Who are you?
- Okay, Bye-bye. - You're limiting yourself, you know?
You and the girl.
You're never truly free until you know yourself.
I know myself.
She does, yes. But you? No.
Go on. Who do you think I am?
I think you're scared.
I think you're prone to leaning back on old habits.
You think denying your desires makes you who you are, makes you strong.
You are the sort of person, Jane,
who could be staring an opportunity straight in the face
and resent the promise of it.
What you believe isn't true.
Even a sorrowful and unquenchable thing
must savor the taste of honey sometimes.
Why am I?
Do you mean why am I here or why do I look like this?
It's a simple question.
I'm Cyborg.
I am because the world needs justice and order.
I am because I want to serve and protect.
That was rehearsed and cliche for a half-man, half-tin-can.
And what are you supposed to be?
Half-man, half-bicycle?
I assure you, Cyborg, I'm at least three-fifths man.
But what or why I am should be of no importance to you,
the great Cyborg.
Come.
Sit.
And maybe I will tell you of the Eternal Flagellation.
I think you asked me a question,
but I'm sorry, I don't understand.
_
Okay, thanks.
So I guess I'm not really a robot, technically.
I have a brain. A human brain.
Although it's not working so good anymore.
It's weird. I was made to last forever,
but I guess I can't even do that right.
I didn't think I'd ever be scared of death.
Spent most of my life chasing it
and then decades thinking about it and wishing for it.
I mean, I've been dead two times over.
Undead, too. But now it's scary.
I think about Rory.
I think about never holding him again
or seeing him do his dumb little baby-fart smile,
and I just...
If I could cry... I'd cry.
A lot.
_
Whoa.
_
Wow, that's...
Is this a hug moment? It feels like a hug moment.
Bring it in, sister.
What the hell are you?
If you turn out to be a rat...
Okay, Larry, maybe stop talking to your magic zit-thing.
Yeah, Larry, you're really going bananas over here.
What the hell?
Hello?
Stolen toast, weather pony.
Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Paul?
Paul Trainor!
# And the company jumps #
# When he plays reveille #
# He's the boogie woogie bugle boy of Company B #
Good as new!
So, what do we set it to?
The letter was dated 1949, but...
the film was 1917.
The possibilities really are endless, aren't they?
Oh, there, there.
Larry and the others will be home with news soon
and whatever they find out, big or small,
will be a step in the right direction.
And then Laura De Mille will hop into her time machine
and go back to figure all the rest of it out.
And you will have yourself again.
And I know that self is good.
I have an intuition for this sort of thing.
I need more gin.
That's the spirit!
I'll be here.
Rita Farr. World renowned time traveler.
Waiting for my destiny.
You have to try this.
- Thank you. - You're very welcome, my dear.
So what's with this whole sweet-treats bullshit?
I don't remember. I built this place a while ago.
Decades, I think.
Time, it moved like a hummingbird at the Ant Farm.
Fast ellipses, beats of nothing in between.
Too much of everything.
I was their dragon, you know?
They would drop me into towns and villages
and I would eat the whole place up.
Hundreds and thousands of people crying, praying, screaming.
And all up in here.
So, as you can imagine, it got a little crowded.
And I needed a space that was just for me.
So it's not just for lost girls.
The Eternal whatever.
That's what this is all about.
You were wronged, and now you wanna burn the whole world down.
Sometimes you have to set worlds on fire
so you can make something new.
Mmm.
Make something of your pain.
Maybe we have more in common than you think, Jane.
Paul! Oh, my God.
What... What are you doing here?
No! No, Paul. Paul, listen to me.
Bang, bang bagel.
Pink and blue.
What was that thing you mentioned?
Eternal Flagellation?
Is that part of the Sisterhood?
I asked you a question.
Why are you?
Didn't I just answer that?
Did you? Or did someone else just answer with your voice?
- Excuse me? - Why are you?
Answer your own damn question.
Why are you?
I am because I have loved with torrid abandon.
I am because I've laughed my father's laugh
and I sang the songs my grandmother sang in a ship crossing water.
I am because I've bled and I've suffered and found joy
from between the fetid trees and in barber shops.
But as I said, why I am is of no importance to you,
the great Cyborg.
A man who doesn't even know himself.
A man who knows only that he is a raised hand.
And what do you get when you raise your hand?
Walk down the street?
Drive through town?
Lay asleep in your bed?
Man, what the hell are you getting at?
Are you saying that I don't know how to suffer?
That I don't know discrimination?
How can you know suffering or joy
without knowing who you are?
Fuck this bullshit!
You don't get to tell me who the fuck I am!
The only goddamn reason you're free in the first place
is because of me.
The language of the oppressor.
And to spill from your mouth with such careless ease.
Imagine my surprise, brother.
I sat in a cage for near a century
and I emerged Lazarus and beheld a world the same.
And this is why
the Eternal Flagellation is so important.
You can tune them out if you want, Jane.
You're letting them overpower you.
They're not overpowering me, they're afraid for Kay.
- Come on, time to go. - Are they afraid for the girl or of the girl?
Kay, please, I'll get you more ice cream later, I promise.
Jane, listen to me.
Kay, come on!
Jane, you're denying yourself again.
Wouldn't it be nice to be free?
To express yourself unbridled?
To get lost in your thoughts and only your thoughts?
Your wants. Your desires.
I'd like that.
Kay!
You know, this is definitely
the most fun I've had in a while.
And don't get me wrong, you're cool and all,
but I should be with Rory. I should be living!
Trying new things! Being the best grandpa ever!
Not running around on some bullshit mission
because of Laura fucking De Mille.
_
Laura De Mille. She sent you.
Laura fucking De Mille.
You can't stop this.
The world needs it. You need it!
Stop! I said stop!
Why are you, Cyborg?
Because you're born with this Black skin?
Or because you're made
with their metal disguise?
Fuck you!
# And they had each other #
# Who could ask for more #
# At the Copa... #
Oh, hey, ice cream lady! What's up?
- There you are, little monkey... - No, I don't wanna!
Kay, we should go now. Come on...
No!
I'll see you on the other side.
And give Laura De Mille my best.
What the fuck? What the fuck?
Come on.
My son.
Hey, hey.
You're okay, you're okay, bud.
It's okay.
You're back!
Larry, I've got news...
Excuse you.
Oh, my God. Is that...
The king. Crow pies...
What the hell happened?
Got our asses handed to us.
But you came back with something?
- Nope. - Then we'll just have to go back and try again.
Give the Sisterhood of Dada the what for!
Nope. Fuck them.
Sorry, Rita, but I'm with Cliff.
No, no, no, no, no, no. I've spent all day giving pep talks
and fixing up that blasted time machine so Laura can go...
Look, let me put this as plainly as possible.
Fuck the time machine. Fuck the Sisterhood of Dada.
And fuck Laura De Mille.
_
"Grandpa's getting better".
_
Well, I'm not fucking dying today.
Click.
What's going on?
We're keeping an eye on the girl.
Okay.
Maybe you should give her some space?
What happened to "we're all in this together"?
She's just throwing a tantrum. That's what kids do.
She wants something new so I'll
get her some shoes and everything will be fine.
I can handle the girl and her yearnings.
You, however, I don't know what to do with you.
I can't believe they sucked you into all this.
I'm gonna get you well again.
I promise.
And nothing's going to get between us.
As the saying goes,
"If you want something done right,
you have to do it yourself".
You.
Listen.
You leave it up to me. Rita Farr.
World renowned time traveler.
Oh, okay. All right.
Rita Farr. Rita Farr.
You know, I've known you for a little less than 48 hours
and even I know that that is not who you are. Mmm-mmm.
No. No, no, no.
That's never gonna be who you are.
Fuck it.
- Synced and corrected by Firefly - - www.addic7ed.com -