This was the last person known to be in possession of the Grail.
I believe her name is Clara.
- Who is this? - This is Clara.
Who is this really?
He's gonna lead us straight to Clara.
Yeah, who we know nothing about.
We know that she has flaming red hair.
It's starting to feel like
you're just here for the dumb sword game.
Where did you get those incredible shoes?
I am going after the Grail.
You better not be making trouble.
Wiley, you didn't get off that bull because you were a coward.
You did it because I asked Him to save you,
and He did!
All right, my son.
Oh, shit.
I'm looking forward to discussing
where you got those shoes.
_
God, I love the way you smell.
- Please don't call me that, Elizabeth. - Wait, sorry.
It's just... Jesus, you smell so good.
Elizabeth?
- Jay? - Elizabeth.
What's up?
You saving yourself for marriage?
Holy shit. You are.
It's a little more complicated than that.
Then let's get married.
I'm not sure you understand what marriage to me might mean.
Well then, I'll learn.
I mean, I mastered the faro shuffle in under a week.
It's a magic thing that my mom taught me
when I was a kid, before she shot me with a crossbow.
Whatever.
Sorry that happened to you.
It doesn't really hold a candle
to what happened to you.
What?
Just...
it's been a long time since anybody thought about me.
I think about you every single second
of every single day.
Okay, I'll marry you.
Really?
But you'll need to find the venue.
_
We're not open to the public.
Oh, right.
I'm not the public.
I'm... well, I am.
My name is Elizabeth, and, uh,
I work at, uh, Franklin's, the, uh, grocer.
And we... uh, we stock your strawberry jam.
And, um, I was just looking at the label,
which was so cute, and I bought some.
And I tried it. It's delicious.
And, uh, I thought, oh, you know, I didn't know
that you could grow strawberries in the desert.
Can you marry me to Jesus Christ?
Um, I'm... I'm serious.
Obviously.
Might I ask, what is your faith?
Yeah, I'm not religious.
My... my parents always thought church was for chumps.
Like, sort of the only thing they agreed on.
They were, like, ad... It's very complicated.
I didn't ask if you were religious, I...
What do you believe?
I believe I love Jesus more than I've ever loved anything
or anyone in my entire life.
Which is so crazy.
You can stay the weekend.
Okay.
See how you get along with the other gals.
There's a badminton tournament Sunday.
Bring your sneakers.
You play badminton?
- You know the feeling you get right... - Yeah, leave. Please.
And I, unworthy though I am,
desire to dedicate myself as Your eternal servant.
Do you want a strawberry?
I mean, the vows are...
They're a little old-fashioned, no?
Well, I am two thousand years old, so...
That's no excuse not to embrace progress, my love.
You don't have to go through with this.
And I will love you just the same.
I did not put in the work just to back out now.
I just need your vow.
You and me, we are... We are in this together,
all the way.
You and me, all the way.
I, Elizabeth Danger Abbott,
known in religion as Sister Simone,
do vow poverty, chastity, and...
Obedience.
Through His glory, I am called,
and in His name, I will serve.
I ask the sisters of this institution
to confirm me in this act.
We confirm!
- Confirmed! - Confirmed!
- What did she say? - I don't know.
Do you, Sister Simone,
give your life, the entirety of your life,
and your love to the Lord?
I do.
I receive your vows with great joy,
and in turn, give you this ring,
for you are now betrothed to the Eternal King.
Blessed be your union, Sister.
Go forth in love
with Jesus Christ.
Hello, husband?
Hello, wife.
Promise me we'll never forget this moment,
how happy we are right now.
Promise me that nothing and no one will ever come between us.
What could come between us?
Oh, my.
Sync and corrections by btsix www.addic7ed.com
_
I have a friend who was brought in here.
She has red hair.
Patient's name?
Mathilde LaFleur.
Brought in last night with a head wound.
LaFleur.
Mm. LaFleur.
Oh, for fuck's sake.
Shoo!
Your friend's in recovery, room 250.
Thank you so much.
Oh, come on. You again?
Oh, fucking come on.
Ms. LaFleur?
Hello, Ms. LaFleur.
Blessings. Um, do you...
Do you happen to have the, um...
May we help you?
Uh, yes, I'm from the local church.
I was asked to sit with this woman.
Local church?
Why do you have an American accent?
I-I was assigned there from America.
You can leave now, Sister.
May I help you?
Fine.
Subtle.
Hello, wife.
Hello, husband.
Got your... got your dove.
Yeah, sorry about that.
I just... it's been a while since you've been by.
I just... I wanted to see you.
Oh, hey, that's so sweet.
But so I'm, like, this close to the Holy Grail right now.
The, um... the women in business suits are here.
I mean, they're, like, right down the hall.
Um, they could have the Grail with them, for all I know.
And so the woman, Mathilde...
I thought she was Clara, but then she called me Clara.
- Simone. - So I'm not entirely...
Claire, Clara, I'm not really clear.
Simone.
Yes?
I need you to do a favor for me.
A favor that's more important than me completing the mission
that you sent me on, which, to repeat,
I'm on the verge of completing.
I didn't send you on that mission. The Boss did.
Well, I kind of assumed you and He
were in this thing together, the whole "trinity" deal.
What... you do want me to get the Grail, right?
Absolutely, yes.
Yes, I do.
But first,
will you...
bring a cake to the pope?
Will I bring a cake to the pope?
Not just any cake. It has to be
from a specific bakery in Rome. And I'll write it down for you.
You want me to drop everything and go to Rome?
Uh, how am I supposed to get an audience with the pope?
Your name will be on a list.
Just go to the west gate of the Vatican
at sundown tomorrow.
Jesus with the immediacy.
Why now?
"Now" doesn't really work the same way for me
as it does for you, Simone.
Just trust me. This is urgent.
The cake has to be from this bakery
and only this bakery.
What if I say no?
Then you're breaking your vows.
Mm, I'm feeling many things right now.
But if this is important to you, then I will do it.
I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't.
Please?
Okay, so this cake, we're talking carrot?
Or we going the more obvious route with angel's food?
All I can tell you is that you will know the right one when you see it.
Hey, you're really not making this easy for me, man.
Just trust yourself, Simone.
I do.
I love you.
I love you, too, honey.
Buon appetito.
Really?
Couldn't have warned me?
Just let me walk into that trap and just get blindsided?
Why does He...
Unbelievable. Unbelievable.
Wow.
Breaking my vows, wow.
Breaking my vows.
Ms. LaFleur?
Uh, excuse me.
The woman who was in here one minute ago...
Do you know where she went?
Oh, she died.
Did not.
Aye, she absolutely did.
Well, there were a bunch of women in here with her.
Do you know where they went?
Alas, no.
But if'n I did see such lassies,
I'd surmise that they were very powerful
and would be very unlikely to fuck with 'em.
You have been very unhelpful.
- Hello? - You're not Wiley.
Astute observation.
Why are you answering his CFC?
Uh, is that a long and stupid way of saying boot phone?
It's an acronym, nun.
Concealed Footwear Communicator.
- Put Wiley on. - Wiley's not here.
He's... he's MIA, which is an actual acronym.
Wait, are you saying he's missing?
Yeah, he was abduct... Oh, yeah, so he was abducted,
uh, right after he got struck by lightning
because he wouldn't let go of a giant sword.
Some guy dressed as an EMT put him in a phony ambulance,
- and... - PV!
Yeah, that's what happened.
Get me CCTV footage, any ambulance that's fucking off out of Scone this morning.
I need eyes on the driver.
- Now, dag! - Whoa, whoa.
Why you going all Jason Bourne on this, man?
Come on, Wiley getting kidnapped at the exact moment
I finally get a lead on the Grail?
It's so cliché. It's obviously just
the Algorithm algorithming.
First of all, J. Bourne is a legend, so cheers for the compliment.
Second, algorithms don't do kidnappings,
which means Wiley was grabbed by someone...
What do you mean, the Algorithm doesn't do kidnappings?
Because I was definitely kidnapped
back in Reno by those fake Germans.
I don't know if I'd call it a kidnapping, per se.
I was tranq darted, knocked out,
moved to another location, and handcuffed to a chair.
I mean, that's the literal definition of kidnapping.
Where'd you bury the body?
What?
The German you dingbats dropped off
the side of a building... Where did you bury him?
Oh, yeah. Yeah, the German's body,
Buried that fucker in a fucking hidey hole.
The HA. Fuck.
What the fuck does it matter now? What the fuck does it matter?
The fake Germans weren't working for Mrs. Davis.
The fake Germans were working for you.
Look, don't crack the shits, all right?
We didn't have time for tea parties
and fucking hair braiding
with the fate of humanity's free will at stake.
So yeah, Wiley pitched a way to onboard you
with minimal exposition.
Reminder, nun:
we only targeted you because The Big D
targeted you first, but this shit is the real deal.
So why don't you stow your fucking feelings, Sister Nun?
Hello? Hello?
Nun? Fucking fu...
We got him! We got him.
It's from a speed camera just outside of Scone.
- It's a sodding priest. - See the ambulance?
It says St. Crispin's Hospital, but here's the thing.
There is no fucking St. Crispin's in Scotland.
- Run his face in the database. - Okay.
Get everything you can on this phony fucking priest.
We find this Bible thumper, and we find our boy.
Hello, my son.
"Hello, my son."
Yes.
Of course you're wary, Mr. Wiley.
But I give you my word,
I will free you as soon as you tell me,
where did you get those shoes?
Holy shit.
Are you German?
What's your name?
My name is Hans Ziegler.
Oh, my fucking God.
Hans Ziegler.
That's the most German name ever.
Okay, all right.
Okay, this is the Algorithm
just serving me a taste of my own medicine,
a little bit of payback for my fake German gambit
I ran back in Reno, locking me up down here
in this obviously fake dungeon with a super on-the-nose...
No offense... evil priest.
Tight, tight, tight.
I don't know what you're going on about,
but I do know who you're helping.
And I know this because I have seen your feet on the tape.
My feet on what tape?
You know what tape.
So there's, like, a mystery tape?
Very lazy. It's uninspired.
Let me guess.
This tape somehow exposes some shady Vatican conspiracy
that has something to do with...
Oh, I don't know... the Holy Grail?
The Vatican hasn't cared about the Grail
- for a thousand years. - Mm.
But when I obtain it and bring it before them,
they will no longer treat me as inferior.
Well, that's a fun spin.
You're like a rogue priest, like a lone wolf priest
trying to earn the respect of the big, bad boss man.
Bet you're gonna tell me we're at the Vatican right now.
- We are. - Fuck off.
The boy's in pain.
Stay out of this. It does not concern you.
Oh, hey there, enigmatic fellow prisoner
who just conveniently spoke up right now.
Uh, I'm not in pain, but I really appreciate your concern.
I know pain when I see it.
And I'm seeing it.
Well, um, I don't mean to challenge
your pain-detecting qualifications, dirt beard,
but who the fuck are you?
I am Felipe Suárez Ortega.
But you would know me
as Pope Leo XI.
Ooh.
Holy Father, you should not have revealed yourself.
Oh, but I have to know more. You guys are doing great.
Tell me, how is it that the pope, the pope,
is locked in a dungeon
and nobody's fucking looking for him?
Oh, no, no, no one knows I'm missing
because I have been replaced with a double.
Mm.
A doppelganger that looks just like me,
but does their bidding.
- A doppelganger? - You see?
My enemies have enacted the only remedy
for those in the papacy who have strayed from the path.
Strayed from the path how?
I...
I used Madonna.
Madonna?
In America, you call Her Mrs. Davis.
- Oh. - In Italia, Madonna.
Yeah.
Well, I've got some "I-talia" for you.
You both can mangia my balls.
_
No, wait.
No, no, no, no, no.
Um, oh, excuse me, señor?
Uh, scusi, signore. Uh, signore.
What, uh, what... what happened here?
Ah, last night, there was big...
Big fire.
Uh, bakery gone.
What happened to Maria?
You're looking for Maria?
Yes, Maria of Maria's Famous Original Bakery.
Sei fortunato, eh, Sister?
This here is "Original Maria Famous Bakery."
Yep.
And you're looking for
"Maria's Famous Original Bakery,"
which is just there.
Oh.
Grazie.
Grazie mille.
Thank you. Oh, my gosh.
I was thinking here, "Oh, no, no!"
Okay, yep, great.
- Maria? - Ciao.
Effettuare un ordine o ritirare?
Uh, avere una... cake.
Ah, you have come to the right place.
Any particular cake?
Um, well, I guess
I will know the right one when I see it?
Uh, that one.
- That one? - Actually, no.
I think my finger landed on the one just behind it.
Oh.
So it did.
Looks like you have chosen the King Cake.
Dude, the King Cake, totally.
You know nothing about this cake, do you, Sister?
Not a thing, no.
The King Cake is eaten every year on Three Kings Day,
when the cake itself
chooses who gets to be king.
We hide a baby inside,
and whoever finds it in their slice is chosen,
anointed for just one day.
So sorry... you put a baby in the cake?
Mira, look.
It's plastic.
And it's meant to represent the baby Jesus.
Now, turn away while I hide it.
Go on. No peeking.
I mean, the cake is not actually for me.
Oh.
Then who is it for?
You wouldn't believe me if I told you.
I really must insist, Sister. Who is this cake for?
It's for the pope.
I see.
Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, hey, hey!
The pope does not get my cake!
Okay, okay!
Please... whoa, stop! Stop!
This is a bakery!
And you are a baker!
And you've got to sell me a cake!
You are right. I'm sorry.
I overreacted.
I will bake you a new King Cake.
Thank you.
For 1 million euro.
Streetlight.
Crosswalk.
Zebra.
Harbinger.
Keanu. Train track.
Streetlight.
Crosswalk.
- Zebra. - Why do you keep saying that?
It's a verbal captcha.
It's a non-sequitur string of words
that sends the Algorithm in your ear
into an infinite-loop processing error.
Streetlight...
There is no Algorithm in my ear.
I would advise you to keep quiet.
I would advise you to ground your performance.
You're way too big.
Enter stage right with these fake-ass cardinals.
- Psst. Hola. - Hola.
- What's escape plan? - Escape plan?
Oh, there's an escape plan?
Well, Madonna brought you to rescue me, didn't She?
Yeah, man.
Madonna sent me here to rescue you.
She just wants you to do a few bars
from "Like a Virgin," only the chorus.
No sense of humor. All right, no.
The Algorithm did not send me here to rescue you.
But then why are you wearing those shoes?
She gave them to you, yes?
Perhaps...
Perhaps She has not brought you here to rescue me,
but so that I may rescue you.
What, from my pain?
Bullshit!
She brought me down here for one reason:
break me,
probably 'cause She suspects I'm an integral part
of an underground organized resistance
committed to destroying Her.
And the second I give it up, kaboom, kaboom, kaboom.
These walls fall down, and boom,
I'm on a sound stage in Orlando, Florida,
and you're there, giving the slow clap
as you pull off your obviously fake beard.
So you're a part of an underground
organized resistance?
You think they will come and rescue you?
Oh, okay.
So that's the play?
Well, let me be perfectly fucking clear, "The Pope."
Even if I was, hypothetically, part of a crew comprised
of highly trained, highly capable,
wickedly-talented operatives,
they would immediately know I was kidnapped
just to lure them out and recognize it as bait,
because what kind of amateur halfwits
would fall for such an obvious fucking trap?
All right, mates, let's make like college girls
sharing a dorm and sync up.
T-minus three minutes from the drop.
You're positive our intel is sound on the coordinates?
Priests aren't supposed to own property.
This motherfucker has his name on 200 acres
in the middle of France?
No satellite imagery.
Means that someone doesn't want us to see
what he's hiding on those 200 acres.
- Black site? - Motherfucking black site, yo.
- Motherfucker. - Black site!
What?
Why are you always yelling?
So people will fucking listen.
- What do you want, nun? - 1 million euro.
What makes you think I have access to that kind of cheese?
Uh, your tricked-out headquarters,
stupid outfits, ridiculous weapons, vehicles,
seemingly endless supply of burner phones?
Well, uh, we are experiencing
a bit of a cash flow issue right now,
in the sense that all of our cash flows from Wiley.
He never signed away his inheritance.
Wiley's using his inheritance
to liberate mankind,
which is why, my friend, it's mission critical
that we liberate him.
But here's an idea, nun.
Ask the Algorithm for the money.
You're supposed to be earning its trust.
Nothing builds trust like being in debt.
No. I don't know. I don't wanna ask Her.
_
Sorry, gotta go. Time to fly.
_
Okay.
Oh, look. Susie's got wings.
To be bestowed this great honor
by the magnificent Algorithm.
Scusi, scusi. Scusi.
Scusi, scusi.
Telefono? Mrs. Davis?
- I speak English. - Oh, great.
Great. Sorry.
I need to talk to Her. Can you proxy?
Carlo, mi dia cinque minuti, per favore?
Thank you so much.
- Ah! - Oh, wow.
- Grazie. - Si.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
- Simone. - Hi.
It's nice to see you in Rome.
That is a very intuitive place to look for the Holy Grail.
Yeah, yeah, yep.
That's exactly what I'm doing here.
I have an amazing lead in Rome.
But the thing is, I-I just need...
I need 1 million euro, please.
Please.
Will satisfying this request make you happy and content?
Yes?
Okay.
Uh, can you please tell me your wiring information?
No, I... I mean, I don't have, like, accounts.
At the convent, Mother Superior...
Ah, 1042?
What?
Redirect?
What? I...
1042?
Sandy Springs? Oh!
You okay?
Uh...
Not a problem.
I am working on retrieving the cash for you now.
So you're just gonna give me 1 million euro,
no questions asked?
Well, it's the least I can do for you, Simone.
After all, I'm responsible for your father's death.
Stand by.
- Here we go. - I don't understand.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Grazie.
I'm sure it is for a good cause.
Grazie.
Oh, okay. Thanks. What?
Hey.
I've got 40 more bags outside.
Hey, what's Jesus like?
- Sorry? - You know, Christ Almighty.
King of Kings, Lord of Lords,
manger boy.
You're the pope, right? You'll must be close.
Is He tall?
He seems serious, like, no sense of humor,
probably from all the suffering and shit.
My son, you speak as though you're jealous.
What? No, not a chance.
No, no, no.
I mean, sure, my ex is a nun.
She is taking the marriage to Christ thing
pretty literally.
I mean, she says that she actually hangs out with the guy,
and that they, like, do stuff.
Sex stuff.
But that's impossible, right?
Because Jesus isn't real.
And even if He was, He wouldn't do that.
Right?
I would not put it past Him.
Wait, what?
Some children desire to meet Father Christmas.
Weird segue.
All I ever wanted
was an audience with the Son of God.
That was my obsession.
But my parents told me that only the pope himself
can access Jesus Christ.
"Very well," I said.
"I will become the pope."
Five decades of study,
of unbreakable devotion,
of miserable politics, but at last...
I... I was elected Holy Father.
And the day of my inauguration, I fell deep into prayer,
deeper than ever before.
In this moment, I was transported.
And there He was,
in all His glory.
And you know what He did?
He gave me the finger.
Jesus flipped you off?
Oh, no, no, no, no. This finger.
- No, that's not... - A lifetime of anticipation
for just a moment with Him, and He told me to wait.
So you cozied up with His nemesis,
the Algorithm.
- Why wouldn't I? - Just saying.
She always listens.
She's always there,
and not just for the pope, for all of us.
And now that She's here, why should I continue
to devote myself to some ladies' man?
Ladies' man?
That's why Jesus made me wait...
Because He was with a woman.
She's the reason He left me standing in His restaurant
like a neglected child.
Did you say His restaurant?
Si, si, si.
What did this woman look like?
Oh, she had red hair.
Oh, thank fuck. It's Clara.
Yes. Yes.
Clara.
She's the reason I'm imprisoned here,
for it was the very same woman in the tape.
The tape?
You're talking about Hans Ziegler's mystery tape.
Si, si.
One month ago, Madonna sent me on a quest:
to find a tape in one of the offices of the Vatican
and upload it to Padre Ziegler's office.
I found the tape, but I was discovered.
All right, that's enough.
In that moment, they imprisoned me,
- but not before I saw... - I said enough!
I will never learn Clara's whereabouts,
where she's hiding the Grail,
or how this man came to be wearing those shoes
if you keep telling him fucking everything!
My son, please.
This isn't who you are.
Who I am?
You didn't even know I existed until a month ago,
when you finally saw fit to descend
from your golden throne and step into my office,
only to steal from it!
But you want to know who I really am?
I am the one who will at last return
the Holy Grail to its rightful...
Holy shit.
Oh, man. Wow.
I didn't know you guys were doing stunts.
So tell me about your mother.
About my mother?
- Uh-huh. - Why?
You are a nun.
That means your mother failed you.
Well, she, um...
I, um...
Why do you hate the pope?
Oh, the pope, that pope,
the heavenly father, His Holiness.
Baking was not my first chosen vocation.
Can you guess what was?
Carpentry?
You're a natural with that mallet.
No.
Ever since I was a child,
I wanted to be the pope.
And you laugh.
Of course you do. Everyone did.
"Girls cannot be popes. Don't be silly, Maria."
But I did not understand then, and I do not understand now.
What makes me less deserving, less worthy than any man
who ascends to the station of the papacy?
I excelled in divinity school.
But there is only so far a woman can go in the church.
So I mastered a new skill, "something appropriate."
You learned to bake.
Si.
And I'm damn good at it too.
You better be for what I am paying for this cake.
The pope is not more divine nor qualified.
The only thing he has that I do not is a ding-a-ling.
Amen.
No matter how many of you he sends,
he does not deserve my cake.
Um, the, uh...
Others came looking for this cake before me?
Almost every day for the last week.
Were those others... were they women?
Si, just like you, the pope's errand girls.
I am not the pope's errand girl.
Oh.
Then whose errand girl are you?
I'm not sure you understand what marriage to me might mean.
Well then, I'll learn.
Hi. Uh, buongiorno, and bless you.
I have something for the pope.
I'm on the list.
- Name? - Simone.
Were those others... were they women?
Si, just like you.
How many names are on that list?
I am not the pope's errand girl.
Then whose errand girl are you?
You know what? Nope.
Never mind. No.
No, no, no, no, no.
Your call has been forwarded
to an automatic voice message system.
Disregard this, nun.
This one's for my boy.
We found the black ops site, brother.
You hear that silence?
All our training's paid off,
and us fucking ninjas are coming
to save those sweet cheeks.
Liberation imminent.
JQ out.
I told you bongos this was a Vatican stronghold.
Let's take 'em down.
Let's find our boy.
Fan out!
You got it. You got it.
So close.
Man, I gotta say, The Pope...
Getting the keys to land just out of reach?
Bellissimo.
If we don't get those keys
before he awakens, all is lost.
What a highly specific lasso-skills-required situation
when I just happen to be a four-time youth rodeo champion.
This is no coincidence.
- It's all by Her design. - Mm.
We were meant to escape together.
Padre, I don't do together.
Perhaps that's the source of your pain.
Perhaps that's why your nun left you for Jesus.
Give me that rope.
I would like to state for the record
that I continue to believe this is all bullshit,
but I am fucking bored now.
So let's just get this over with,
shall we?
All right.
Yee-haw.
Yes. Yes.
Congrats, The Pope. You're free.
Why didn't you use them to release yourself?
Because that is exactly what the Algorithm wants me to do.
My son,
why are you so certain that Madonna wants to hurt you?
- Ay, Dios mío. - Yeah.
You know, they're supposed to give these things out
based on probabilities.
Old people get dates a couple years down the line.
Somebody my age, it should be decades.
But not me.
No, my time's up in eight days.
Now I understand why you don't want
to leave this prison:
because you know what is outside that door
is the truth.
My son, the truth shall set you free.
All right, fuck it. Okay, Pope, let's go.
Bravo. Bravo.
JQ!
We found something.
Come on!
Whoa.
Wow, you guys really commit to the bit.
It will be an exit up there.
All right.
JQ! There's something under here.
Everybody dig!
Oi, guys, hurry up!
Hurry up!
Wait!
Come back!
- Wait! - All right.
All right, keep digging, mates.
Sweet baby Jesus.
It's a trapdoor.
Where's the door?
- Stop! - This way.
You don't know what you've done.
Stop!
Freedom.
Heave!
Heave! Heave!
Heave!
Out of the way!
I'ma get you out of there, Wiley!
I won't stop until you're free!
JQ, are you all right?
I'm okay.
What do you see?
Is Wiley down there?
No, mate.
Shoes.
Fucking sneakers.
Well, a little rain never hurt anyone.
My doppelganger!
Imposter! Arrest that man!
Oh, shit.
We're at the actual Vatican?
Where else would we be?
Don't touch me!
I am the pope!
You can't do this!
Get your filthy hands off me!
Are you okay?
Are you okay, Sister? Are you okay?
Simone? Simone, are you choking?
Hey, hey.
Is it working?
Hey, what is it? What is it?
Hold on. Hold on. Hey.
That's the last person known to be
in possession of the Grail.
I believe her name is Clara.
Here. Drink this.
How many?
How many what?
How many did you send to that bakery before me?
We're finally gonna talk about this, huh?
Finally? What does that mean?
Just because you won't acknowledge
that I have other relationships, Simone,
it doesn't mean that I don't have them.
You want to know what I coughed up?
It was everything that you fed me.
I am not some groupie who wants you all to myself.
I-I understood exactly what I was getting into.
Pardon me for not wanting to think about everyone else
who got into it.
Do you think I took my vows lightly?
I understood.
I understood what it means
to be someone's eternal... servant.
I said it for you because I love you.
I love you so much that I am willing to accept
that I am not the only one, as long as you accept this:
I am your wife, not your goddamn errand girl!
Boo-hoo, get over it!
Look at us.
We're back where we started, Merlin.
I'm dead.
No.
No such luck.
Where the hell are we?
We're at the Vatican.
You might wanna watch your language.
What are you doing here?
Long story.
Before I get into it,
and considering the venue...
I have a confession to make.
Back home in Reno, those Germans
who kidnapped you, and then we kidnapped them back,
and then they admitted that they were working for The Big D?
- Yeah, I'm remembering all of this. - Good.
Yeah, so they weren't working for The Big D.
They were working for me.
And look, I can give you a whole bullshit rationale...
I mean, it's not total bullshit.
- The Algorithm is evil. - Don't over-explain.
Okay, thank you.
The truth is, um,
I was in pain.
And I was hurting. Um...
I think I just wanted to be around you again.
So I'm sorry I lied.
That was wrong.
I forgive you.
It was such a dick move though.
Watch your mouth, young lady.
Tried to warn her.
Is that the pope?
- Yeah. - Mm-hmm...
Why is the pope looking at me like that?
Well, uh, Felipe here has been very excited to talk to you
ever since they brought you in and saw what you were, uh, choking on.
Please, Sister, I must know.
This little baby...
How did you come to have it in your windpipe?
I haven't seen one of these since I was a niñito,
when I used to put King Cake on our altar for Jesucristo.
I never knew if He got them.
Never got a chance to ask.
I mean, He... He sent me to bring you the cake.
I got the sense it was some kind of peace offering.
Felipe was in a little bit of a beef with your hubby
because He blew him off for...
This is gonna make your head explode...
The red-haired woman.
Mm, Jay never told me that He knew her.
He just handed me a sketch and said she was
the last person to have the Grail.
If she's so interested in Clara,
you should tell her about the tape.
What tape?
This is what Madonna sent me to find,
the secret the priest has been hiding for years.
Watch this.
_
What am I looking at?
What is this?
Wait for it.
That's Clara, the red-haired woman?
- Sorry, can you just tell me what it is? - Just watch.
_
- So is she, like, an actor? - You're not watching.
Ermengard!
_
- Wiley, that's the Grail! - Yes, it is.
Can you please just shush?
Sometimes, at the end of the road,
when all seems lost,
miracles happen.
_
It's a commercial?
Okay, you're still not waiting for it.
So it's all fake? I don't get it.
- Is it recording? - Shoes. My shoes.
I see the shoes.
Okay, can you point it at me?
Father Hans Ziegler.
By now, you understand that I have in my possession
what you have spent your lifetime
trying to get your hands on.
I wonder how the Vatican will react when they know
what you did to make this commercial,
if all those shoes you buried came to the surface?
Consider this your warning, Father.
If you try to find me,
or if I so much catch a whiff of you,
this tape goes everywhere.
Grail, Grail, Grail, Grail.
- Whoa. - Mm-hmm.
And if you don't believe me,
believe this, bitch.
What the f...
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