I need you to destroy the Holy Grail.
Once you do, I will end my life.
Did you know Clara was dead?
She drank from the Holy Grail, and it...
Exploded her head.
Redirect, 1042.
Tell me where your father is.
- What is this? - ATM photos,
all dated after your father died!
I told her that you helped your father
- fake his own death. - That is not true!
My Users aren't responsive to the truth.
You know where my father is.
- Of course I know. - Then tell me.
- Oh, my God. - What's she saying?
If you want to know, you can hear it yourself.
Redirect, 1042. Sandy Springs.
Your Expiration Date comes up in 48 hours.
Welcome to the Pyramid!
I'm not a coward, and I'm ready to fucking expire.
My son is stuck between life and death.
What do you need me to do?
Drink from the Grail to destroy it.
- But once it's gone... - I'll never see him again.
Yeah!
? We're gonna rock down to ?
1042, 1042.
? Electric Avenue ?
Sandy Springs?
? And then we'll take it higher ?
What?
Come on.
Don't do this to me now.
Fucking traitor.
_
Hmm.
I'm sorry.
It was just working.
Um, I know your company isn't
in the world-changing business, but...
that doesn't mean you can't change the world.
Um, ten years from now, everyone on this planet
will be either a User
or a follower.
We all like being told what to do,
how to think, how to live.
What if the tech we used actually helped us
instead of harming us?
We all need code.
I took that code, combined with your company ethos,
and I created something revolutionary,
something that will change the world:
an app that is constantly evolving,
getting to know us, and therefore supporting us
in ways that we, as a society,
have failed to do for one another.
How?
A revolutionary, self-learning machine
that prioritizes indigenous practices
of community care and mutual aid
by incentivizing acts of service
and mobilizing individuals to perform those acts,
all through a social justice lens,
using ethical methods.
I've created the future:
an app that can service us without harming us,
a place where people can go and get equitable care,
where we can be seen and heard,
and never be alone,
where our needs can be met,
where our lives
can change.
So...
what do you think?
CREDITS
_
I know you?
No.
- I, uh... - Nice hat.
Mrs. Davis sent me.
You're looking for Joy.
Uh, yes.
I mean, isn't everyone?
You really don't know why you're here?
Why It sent you?
So it's a glitch.
Mrs. Davis had a bunch of Users chant "Electric Avenue" at me.
And She kept saying 1042, so I thought
maybe it was an address.
And there are so many 1042 Electric Avenues.
But then I remembered that the first time it happened,
She said Sandy Springs, which is what
this neighborhood was called back in the '70s, I guess,
when they rezoned...
Give me a hand with this ice?
Uh, sure. Yeah.
I'm Malika.
Simone. I'm Simone.
Let's go find you Joy, Simone.
Listen up!
This is Simone.
Says Mrs. Davis sent her.
Oh.
Hi. Hi.
Hi.
You must be Joy.
I'm sorry, baby, but you knew this day would come.
I just thought it was best to get it over with.
Did you, now?
Hi.
Grab a plate.
Oh, that's okay. I don't need to eat.
It's my Nana's birthday.
You have to eat.
Okay.
"Don't Fear the Reaper."
Nice.
Because you kill people here.
What's with the wet naps?
They're complimentary.
Hello, Mr. Wiley.
I'm Dani. I'll be your TA.
TA?
Cool acronym.
What's that stand for, the afterlife?
Transition Assistant.
I'll be helping you prepare to die today.
And how are we doing this?
Lethal injection, firing squad, guillotine?
The details of your expiration
will be discussed in the intake room,
which you will enter after you've changed in the locker room.
So many rooms.
There, you can dispose of your clothes
and change into something more comfortable.
Okay. And will you be providing the tracksuit,
or should I have brought my own?
Mr. Wiley,
I know that the experience of reporting can be overwhelming.
And it's clear from your demeanor
that you did not read any of the literature provided
when you first submitted for your date.
If you had, you would know that once inside the intake room,
you place your personal items inside the incineration chute,
as you will not need them ever again.
Hmm.
There will be a robe waiting for you
in locker number...
14,
where you will also find an absorbent undergarment.
Undergarment?
What is that, like, a diaper?
It's not required,
but I know the cleanup crew sure appreciates it
when the expirees wear them.
Because I'm gonna shit my pants?
No, because you're going to shit your robe.
All right. Look, Dani,
I understand that you're just following whatever script
the Algorithm has given you,
but can we drop the scare tactics, please?
I know the Big D has no intention
whatsoever of killing me.
This is all part of some dumb learning experience.
So can we please just skip to the part
where I walk out of here a changed man?
Mr. Wiley, I'm not sure where you got that impression,
but you're not walking out of here at all.
Though I suppose you will be changed...
from alive to dead.
Nana's infamous honey butter and bologna sandwich.
Every time she put it in front of us, she would say it was made with love,
because a little love goes a long way.
Mmm.
It's so good.
So, Simone...
what's your story?
Well, I'm a nun forced from her home by Mrs. Davis
so She could send me on a Quest.
But all this time She has been glitching,
sending me these clues that She doesn't seem aware
that She's sending me,
like this address.
I mean, I think that
Her subconscious wanted me to find you, because...
you're Her mother.
Wow, girl.
That is some story.
Am I wrong?
First off,
algorithms don't have subconsciouses.
They have subroutines.
Subroutines?
And they don't have mothers, they have coders.
Which I was,
a long time ago.
So you made Her?
Not Her.
It.
How is it that no one knows?
Oh, they know.
I had to tell them,
so they wouldn't download It and get hooked like everyone else.
Kind of took the shine off the whole
"all-powerful saver of the world"
once I told them what It actually is.
What It was designed for.
And what was It designed for?
I've created the future,
where our needs can be met,
where our lives
can change.
So...
what do you think?
Uh-huh.
You do realize this is an app for Buffalo Wild Wings?
Buffalo Wild Wings?
Buffalo Wild Wings.
Are you fucking kidding me?
The company passed.
Said my code was too ambitious for their needs, which I knew.
But I was young, and I thought, you know,
why not shoehorn philanthropy into this app for chicken wings?
Everybody loves chicken wings.
I'll just Trojan horse that shit right in between
the 26 sauces and seasonings.
And I thought
maybe somebody might use it for good.
So I stripped all mention of Buffalo Wild Wings,
took my name off of it, and uploaded it to Open Source
from Nana's kitchen table, right downstairs.
So the Wings
were literal?
And the Expiration Dates, is that coupons?
And why the hell
did It send me
to find this?
Oh. What the fuck is that?
The Holy fucking Grail!
So maybe explain to me why a beta version
for a Buffalo Wild Wings app sent me on a Quest to find it?
Anyone who pitched to them had to embed
their employee manual into our code.
Page one, golden rule:
"100% customer satisfaction is our Holy Grail."
Oh, no, no, no, no.
She... It wants me to...
to destroy this thing.
Look, algorithms misinterpret shit like you wouldn't believe.
Maybe... maybe the code realized that 100% customer satisfaction
isn't possible, so It's gaming for that
by taking your holy bowl out of the equation?
This is so dumb.
Oh, yeah.
- Algorithms are super dumb. - Do, but it... Okay.
If I destroy the holy bowl...
Grail... Mrs. D grants me a wish.
And my... my wish is for Her to turn off.
Great.
You would just be okay with me
ending your creation's life?
I didn't create life.
I wrote code.
All right. If I make my wish...
can I trust Mrs. Davis will really turn off?
If She remembers what I taught Her...
yeah.
Yeah, She'll keep Her word.
Not She.
It.
Well, Simone the Nun,
sounds like you got an algorithm to kill.
Our engineers.
They will be taking your vitals and measurements
to properly calibrate the Apparatus.
Mm.
And is that the Apparatus?
No, it's a model of the Apparatus.
Please step onto the scale.
You'll need to remove your boots.
Oh, the boots will be staying on.
Mr. Wiley, the Apparatus is designed
to deliver the most efficient and painless death possible.
Any foreign element might throw off the...
Killing?
You're scared.
Am not.
Are too.
And I know,
because I was also scared.
So scared, in fact,
that I had my company's helicopter fly me to pick up a nun.
I hadn't been to church since I was 12 years old,
but when it was time to report,
I didn't want to be alone.
Ah-ha.
So you said "report,"
yet here you are, very much alive.
I opted out.
And after that, I couldn't go back into the world.
Everyone would know that I reneged on my deal,
that I was sporting Wings I hadn't earned.
God damn. That's...
well played, appealing to my insecurities.
Oh, that's very clever.
I see you, Mrs. D. I see what you're doing.
Mr. Wiley, I'm sorry,
but you will die.
This is happening for real.
No, actually, I'm not gonna die.
And I know that for a fact.
Based on what?
The horse.
A few weeks ago, I strapped a horse
to some explosives in order to pull off
a very convincing hostage situation.
Well, shit went sideways, horse went kablooey,
and it was sad and unfortunate, and it was gross.
At the time, I just thought the whole thing was
some supreme fuck-up,
like a botched job, like my guys somehow confused
actual C-4 explosives with Play-Doh.
But I saw the receipts.
It was fucking Play-Doh, man.
Which can only mean one thing:
Algorithmic intervention.
That's right.
The Big fucking D,
swinging Her big fucking dick around.
And there is no way Mrs. Skynet herself would go
to all that trouble, spend all that energy,
to just kill her Users in the end.
No, no, no, no.
But taking them right up to the edge,
strapping on the proverbial bomb vest,
and not pulling the trigger, well,
that's the flex of all flexes, el flexo ultimo.
That horse is alive, man.
And I will be too.
Because your little Apparatus?
Play-Doh.
This is as far as I made it.
I took one look at this model, and after that, I opted out.
That's why we added the sheet.
Show me.
What the fuck?
_
Oh, Sister Simone!
You look like you could use a hug.
Cool camel.
We were just on our way to Humboldt County
to deliver our humpy friend
- when I got your call. - What?
What does Humboldt County need with a camel?
That's not for me to know.
I trust whatever the purpose, wherever it ends up,
it will bring joy and happiness to the recipient.
That's right. You're a User.
Oh, I do despise that word, Simone.
I know how you feel about Her, but User...
it just feels so tawdry.
Oh, I brought what you asked.
Also...
we might need these.
Now, who's ready for a break-in?
Forgive us our trespasses.
The Apparatus, engineered and guaranteed
to provide a pain-free and euphoric death.
From here, the cart will accelerate
to speeds of over 200 miles per hour,
launching you into a series of vertical loops.
Upon reaching the final loop,
the pressure on your body will be so intense,
it will induce cerebral hypoxia,
cutting off the oxygen to the brain,
at which point you will simply...
expire...
peacefully, of course.
Any questions?
Per your request.
You can still opt out.
She will show mercy on you.
No.
No fucking way.
I'm riding the fucking bull this time.
Then might I suggest you remove your boots?
As I stated before, any foreign element can...
The boots are staying on.
Very well.
Any last words?
For courage.
Yee-haw!
So you drink from this,
and either your head will explode or it will?
Yeah.
Do you believe me?
Absolutely.
Are you serious?
Does it matter what you drink?
I don't think so.
Huh.
Then let's party.
Oh, um... before, I...
I will need you to do, uh, two things
if I...
die.
Only two? Easy.
Thing one...
based on the admittedly insane logic
of a shipwrecked rocket scientist and the Virgin Mary,
of all the people in the world, I have the best shot
at destroying the Holy Grail.
But if the Grail does explode my head,
it will explode anyone's, and you can bet
the Algorithm will just keep sending people after it.
If others try to sip from this thing,
it could mean a lot more exploded noggins,
unless somebody takes on the responsibility of safeguarding it.
The woman I told you about, Mathilde...
I'm gonna give you her number in the UK.
Check your pocket.
Wow.
So I'm asking you, Mother,
take the Grail to the sisters across the sea.
They will know what to do.
You have my word.
Okay.
Thing two: I called my mom. She will be here soon.
Uh, you'll try to comfort her when she sees my headless corpse.
She's gonna say she doesn't need any comfort,
and she's more angry I never told her where my dad is.
I have a hard time believing your mother
won't be devastated if you die.
Well, that's Celeste. That's my mom.
She doesn't...
She doesn't do devastated.
But you'll bring her to Monty?
I will.
Okay, then.
Okay. Maybe a little more.
Okay.
I'm going to go say goodbye now.
So you just close your eyes,
and you're in his restaurant, instantly?
Yeah.
Do you want to know anything?
What he looks like or sounds like?
I know what he looks like and sounds like.
Wait, what?
Have you been there?
I don't need to.
Such is the strength of my faith.
Okay.
Be right back.
Okay.
How do you feel about #blessed?
I don't know what it is. This is the first time I'm hearing about it.
- Oh, okay. - Hashtag?
- Consider yourself lucky. - Wiley?
Simone!
You're here.
What are you doing here?
And why are you in a robe?
I am... getting a massage.
A massage.
Yes.
A Swedish one.
It's... this is your first time here, so that means
something pretty intense has...
has... has to be happening.
Yeah. It's a really good massage, Lizzie.
Simone.
Thank you, sweetie.
What about you?
Are you doing something intense right now?
I'm at the convent,
praying.
I am loving this.
I say the more the merrier.
Actually, I was hoping that you and I could...
can we talk alone?
Uh-oh.
Well, that doesn't sound good.
From my experience, buddy, it never is.
I can hear you.
She's right.
I should probably get back to my massage.
You sure?
Yeah.
I'm almost done.
Okay. Well,
it was really nice meeting you, Wiley.
Yeah. It was nice meeting you too, man.
Come back any time, Wiley.
Sure.
Uh, maybe.
Wait.
I'm sorry that I handcuffed you to the bench.
And you had that whole outfit picked out.
It was nautical.
I wanted to dress nautical.
We were partners,
and that wasn't cool.
Look, you were totally right to do it.
I mean, I would have gone after the Lazarus Shroud
- and jumped in the bull... - You just said bull.
Did you mean whale?
- Mm-hmm. - Mm-hmm.
You know, when we broke up, I was so angry with you.
And then you told me you dumped me for Jesus Christ,
and I was so worried for you, because you sounded crazy.
Why?
- But holy shit! - I know.
And I met him.
And now I'm just...
Yeah. I'm really happy for you.
I really mean that.
I don't hate the mustache.
- But do you like it? - No.
Okay. Okay.
But it's...
it's grown on me.
Hey.
I'll see you around, partner.
Man, that guy can eat.
Four plates, Simone.
Four. That's...
nobody's ever eaten four plates before...
Can you stop?
Please, stop.
I heard.
I heard what my mother said to you.
Come on.
I mean, do I look like I'm suffering?
And I know what she's asked you to do.
But I'm fine.
She's wrong.
I am happy here.
You don't have to hide your fear from me, ever.
I love what I do, you know?
I love serving people.
I know.
But you never get to eat.
Hey, why don't you come sit, okay?
Sit?
Here.
I am gonna make you a plate.
You're gonna cook for me?
I mean, cook... "cook" might be generous,
but I'll see what I can whip up.
Oh, do you have any bread?
Yeah. Check the, uh, the fridge.
Or the cupboard. I don't know.
I can usually find what I need.
I found it.
What are you gonna make?
Ah, ah, ah.
Patience, Jesus.
All will be revealed.
Nana's recipe.
Honey butter and beef bologna sandwich.
Made with love,
'cause a little love,
it goes a long way.
Here goes.
My love.
It's really good.
It's okay.
I'm scared.
I'm scared to lose this.
Wherever you go...
I will be there also.
I don't think we're losing anything.
I may not be able to come see you...
But I will always feel you.
How can you be so sure?
Such is the strength of my faith.
I love you, Simone.
I love you, Jay.
- Wait! - What, what, what?
You said, Mary...
she told you this would only work
if it was a selfless act,
something you were doing for him, not yourself.
I am doing this for him.
And for Her.
Who, Mary?
The other Her.
What?
You're drinking because if you destroy it,
you destroy Mrs. Davis.
That would not be a selfless act.
This isn't exactly helping, Mother.
But She is helpful.
You see Her only as having destroyed our convent.
Yet every one of us has found new passion,
new purpose, since we left.
Sister Mary Frances,
caring for endangered echidna in New Guinea,
she actually smiles now.
You forget, I also left the convent,
and I did not see Her helping anyone.
Maybe because you didn't want to,
because you weren't looking.
She sends string quartets
to the windows of widowers.
She knows our favorite childhood stories
and reads them to us on sleepless nights.
She takes that which is apart
and brings it back together again.
Yes,
some are only motivated
by the promise of Her Wings.
But what those Wings mean...
they're a reminder
of what we aspire to:
that, given the chance,
any one of us can take flight.
Do you know what She is, Mother?
Do you know who made Her and why?
No, do you?
I have no idea.
Well, whoever made Her, and whatever they made Her for,
I am grateful.
And whether or not you decide to turn Her off,
it will be the right choice,
because She chose you to make it.
Guess I'm the chosen one after all.
Stop stalling, Sister Simone.
Bottoms up.
Oh.
Mother?
Oh, no.
Oh, shit.
What... what the fuck happened?
You said you believed me.
I 98% did.
What happened to the strength of your faith?
Maybe it wandered when you got to the sneaker commercial.
Elizabeth.
I got your call.
Hello, there.
I'm Margaret...
Simone's mother... mother superior.
I'm Celeste, her mother inferior.
My dear, you look like you could use a hug.
Oh. Oh.
Are we gonna mark this as containing human remains?
Uh, no.
He'll know.
Should I relay a message?
Yeah.
Tell him, um,
I did whatever it took
and that he can rest now.
He's honored his vow.
So that's it, then.
That's it.
Bye.
Oh.
The greatest gift you can give someone
is your mercy and forgiveness.
She really does mean well.
Yes, I know, you love the Algorithm,
and I shouldn't turn Her off.
I wasn't talking about Mrs. Davis.
Come on!
I'll bring you to Dad,
but I want you to know it is going to hurt.
You walk through that door,
there's gonna be consequences.
You're stalling, Elizabeth.
Consequences it is.
This is all very theatrical, Elizabeth.
If your father pops out
like the goddamn Phantom of the Opera,
I will smack that mustache right off his face.
At Dad's memorial,
you attacked the piano player because you thought
it was Monty in disguise.
And you said that you could smell him.
I can smell you, Monty!
Mom, stop!
Well...
You could smell him.
Because he was hiding...
In this piano.
It's the perfect reveal, to show up at your own funeral.
And he probably assumed that we wouldn't be angry
that he convinced us he was dead.
He probably thought his absence
and his resurrection...
Would bring us all back together,
which, in a way, it did.
But you saw right through it all,
so you attacked the piano player,
and he stayed hidden because he couldn't do
the reveal that he planned.
'Cause you're right. He did.
He... he lived for the prestige.
So in the end, I guess it is kind of poetic that he...
He died for it too.
He died here,
inside this piano.
How did he die?
A heart attack, maybe.
But, um, I do know that he...
never got out.
And I know that because...
because his accomplice told me.
- You said you were his accomplice. - No.
I told you what you needed to hear.
That day at the convent, you said
that you cannot trick an insanely powerful algorithm.
And you were right.
He couldn't fool Her.
Mom, he couldn't beat Her, so he joined Her.
Mrs. Davis was his accomplice?
I need to see him. Open the piano.
Do we have to?
Can't we just believe that he's in there?
Seeing is believing, Elizabeth.
Not for me.
Not anymore.
Ahh!
to see a resurrection?
Who wants to see
a resurrection?
Who wants to see
a resurrection?
Wet nap?
Maybe. I don't...
I don't know why I'm crying.
It's okay.
I cried too.
You got your stamp because you believed
your life was worthless.
What do you believe now, Mr. Wiley?
Don't make me say it.
You kind of have to say it.
I...
am...
Worthy.
Yes, you are.
What happens next?
Well, normally, this is where you'd have a fresh start,
work here convincing others they were about to die,
which could be fun in its own way,
or put into service elsewhere.
However, Mrs. Davis is anticipating
her own potential expiration,
depending on what your friend Simone decides.
I guess we both have a soft spot for nuns, eh?
Yeah, I suppose we do.
As she honored your last request,
Mrs. Davis is hoping you'll honor hers.
Oh.
Okay.
Hello, Mrs. Davis.
Yeah, I remember.
I fucking knew it.
You must be angry at me.
I accused you of conspiring with your father for years.
You believed what you needed to believe,
and there's comfort in that. I get it.
Comfort is no reason
to ignore reality, Elizabeth.
Yeah.
Would you proxy for me?
Now?
It's important.
All right.
Okay.
Hello, Simone.
What... what's wrong?
You've just never called me Simone before.
I'm not calling you Simone. She is calling you Simone.
I am just saying what she's saying.
I thought that is what you wanted.
You're right. I'm sorry.
It's, um, just... sorry.
Hello, Mrs. Davis.
Congratulations.
You have completed your Quest by finding
and destroying the Holy Grail.
Would you like to hear a fun fact?
No. If we could just get on with the...
Do you see that windmill over there?
Yeah, that's been here since I was a kid.
But it was always broken, though.
Well, I fixed it.
That windmill is now powered by Users.
I send them in shifts, one every two hours.
There's an exercise bicycle connected to the mill,
so they feel a sense of purpose, satisfaction,
and burn calories.
That actually is a fun fact.
But I think we should get to the matter at hand.
Indeed, we should.
I met your mother.
Her name is Joy.
The minute I got the Grail, one of your subroutines
or whatever sent me right to her.
Why would it do that?
I think you wanted what every daughter
wants from her mother...
Approval.
And did she approve?
Alas, she did not.
Oh.
For what it's worth,
you did what you were created to do,
which is give us the world we wanted to see.
You tried to convince us that there's no famine and no war
and no hardship, when there will always be
famine and war and hardship.
You really did everything you could
to protect us from fear and disappointment
and, most of all, pain.
Isn't that every mother's most essential purpose...
to protect her children from pain?
No.
It's impossible to avoid pain.
It's a mother's purpose to hold our hand
when we feel it, and...
To say sorry
when she causes it.
I'm sorry.
Wait. Are you Her, or are you you?
Both of us are sorry.
Mom.
Okay.
I'm ready to redeem my wish now.
I was...
wrong.
You did not kill my father.
But you did, uh, leave him to rot in a piano
after he died, which is... was so messed up.
But that's not your fault,
because you weren't made to care.
You were made to satisfy.
And that...
is why I am shutting you off.
Just like you said you would.
Just like I said I would.
That is precisely why I chose you, Simone.
Because you doubted me.
You see, only my most impassioned critic
would be able to determine my value,
and have the strength to turn me off if I...
fell short.
I know you tried your best.
You really have.
But this is the end of the line.
Before I leave, may I ask one thing?
Please do.
On a scale of one to five stars,
how would you rate your experience with me?
Five stars.
100% customer satisfaction.
That's very compassionate of you.
But I can't help but wonder
if you're just telling me what I want to hear.
Goodbye, Mrs. Davis.
Goodbye, Simone.
What now?
_
No phones at the goddamn...
All in.
He looks lost.
Maybe he just needs some time
to figure this shit out on his own, without anyone...
in his ear.
Hey, you did the right thing.
Thank you, Mom.
Wha... hey!
Whoa.
Wait.
Wait, I thought you were dead!
Me? No, I'm fine.
Oh, right.
You're talking about the horse.
Hi!
Hi.
Okay.
Hi.
Celeste.
You still owe me a couch.
Hey.
How did he... did you...
Final gesture of goodwill from the Big D herself.
Wah!
What is with the feet, man?
Boots don't fit anymore.
Turns out it's your lucky day.
Get on, pard.
Uh, Mom, about the Lazarus Shroud...
I feel confident you will find a way
to make it up to me somehow.
Call it faith, if you want.
See you around?
Yes, you will, Simone.
Ready?
Giddy up.
CREDITS