All language subtitles for American.Gods - 3x10 - Tears.of.the.Wrath-Bearing.Tree

You want to kill Wednesday.

We want to help you do that.

Then sign me the fuck up.

Godspeed.

Do you really have
to kill this dude?

Yes, I do.

Take the coin
and you can't miss.

Do you know what this song is?
It's like, "Ba-ba, ba-ba..."

I wonder
if you can help me...

...about something called

Artifact Number 1.

My grandfather had a hen.

Always laid eggs with two yolks.

Not one.
Not three.

Two.

Every other day,
there they were.

Two perfect yolks.

We named that hen Deuce.

Paw-Paw won him
in a card game.

You ate two of those eggs
in the morning,

you could go all day
without another morsel.

I'm grateful
for our time together,

short as it was.

Don't you worry yourself about me.

I'm past the caring.

My time on this earth is done.

And you have work to do.

Shadow Moon.

He's strong.

But I still fret about him.

This damn icebox is
working my last nerve!

Let me help you.

Help is what
Shadow needs

to steer him in
the right direction.

He's a special
one, all right.

Trouble is,
he knows it now.

But that ain't
your never-mind.

What you need to do
is find The Other.

His soulmate.

Convince him
he ain't no solo act.

Yes, indeed.

That tall order
falls to you.

In 1918,

the Coast Geodetic Survey,

using a cardboard cut-out
balanced on a pin,

determined the geographic
center of America to be

2.6 miles north
of Lebanon, Kansas,

on Johnny Grib's
hog farm.

Johnny Grib didn't share
his neighbors' eagerness

to cash in on his sudden fame,

so they erected a monument
a half mile away.

They also built a motel
for the tourists

who were sure to visit
the center of America.

Only, the tourists didn't come.

Nobody did.

Because we are standing
at ground zero

of the least
sacred place in America.

If the House on the Rock

is a place of spiritual power,

this, uh, is a soulless void.

A wasteland Gods fear
and men avoid.

The perfect spot
to conduct diplomacy

between enemies
of the divine persuasion.

Ah.

Faithful to the last.

They always stay close
to their master.

They're with me now.

So if this is a DMZ where
nothing violent goes down,

why didn't Wednesday just
have his peace talks here?

I mean, he'd be alive,

and we wouldn't be
in dirt-road Kansas.

The thought of being
powerless was no doubt...

unappealing to your father.

And neither
was he constrained

by logic or reason.

Thank God you're here.

Hey.

Oh, it was like a bad dream.

Wednesday told
the creepy guy

with the hat
to go fuck himself.

We were just walking
out to the car

when some 5-foot rage bitch

with some ancient spear
steps out

and straight harpoons
the old man.

Laura?

You know her?

It's my ex-wife.

When were you planning
on telling me?

One shock at a time.

Who the fuck are you?

You don't recognize
the instrument of your survival?

Mr. World?

From time to time, I, uh,

see the reflection
in the mirror and...

I need change.

Okay.

Well, you can put lipstick on a weasel,
but it is what it is.

Why did you bring me
to this shitbox

full of Gods who want me dead?

And what about Doyle?
Can you find him?

Your collaborator is outside
of the scope of our agreement.

We brought you here for
your protection and safety,

as agreed, because no god
can harm you here.

But... you must be patient.

We will return
Wednesday's remains

at midnight
to his associates

and arrange for your
safety of passage.

Okay. Well, I'm gonna want
to weigh in on the particulars.

No, you can't be there.

If there was any thought
of collusion

between you and us
from the Old Gods,

it could ignite a war.

Y-you don't think they're
gonna figure that out

with me being
in your custody?

Oh, we-we'll tell them
that we tortured you,

and when you didn't talk,

we understood that you were
not an agent provocateur.

We guaranteed your
safety of passage.

And you think they're
actually gonna agree to that?

What other choice do they have?

You said that no one
can harm me here?

Great.

'Cause this room
smells like ass

so I'm gonna go find
a fuckin' candy machine.

Uh, one more thing.

Shadow Moon's here,
and it's not entirely clear

that he's under the same
prohibition as the others.

Stay here.

I want my fuckin' tennis ball!

Well, you fellas have
our last two rooms.

The last time the motel
was full was...

Never?

Some government men are here
for an important meeting.

Cletus, our dishwasher,

thinks they might be...
...the Illuminati.

Rented the whole east wing

and the dining room.

No, no, no, no. No.

Not until midnight.

It's our tradition.

Out of my way.

Hey.

He wanted an old
Norse death ritual.

And we wanna honor
his request, right?

It's called respect.

And that is something

that he won't get
from our enemies.

Don't you understand?

They don't wanna honor him;
they wanna shame us.

Well, I'm supposed to sit
vigil for him so...

You're supposed to do what?

It's part of our arrangement.

Sir?

Thanks.

What?

Read the sign.

I'm sorry.

Do you mind?

Thank you.

Wow.

I believe our rooms
are this way.

Hey. Can you believe
this idiot

thinks that he will sit
the vaka for Votan?

Oh.

Vigil for a Norse God requires

being bound upon Yggdrasil,

the World Tree,
as Odin once did.

Okay.

For 9 days and 9 nights.

An endurance test for a God,

a death sentence for a mortal.

Yeah.

Well, Wednesday said
that if I walk with him,

greatness would be mine.

Maybe this is what he meant.

Uh-huh.

* Floating through
the darkness *

* Awaiting on transmission *

* Drifting on
a mission alone *

* Wine won't pour my dear *

* When I get back, my dear *

* Streaming through creation *

* Trying to catch
your laughter *

* Blinded by the darkness *

* Alone and so it goes *

* My bitter heart can't figure *

* The distance in between *

* Six trillion miles away dear *

* The evenings follow me *

* How can I explain *

* With no voice *

* With no chance *

* As I'm travelling *

* Upside down *

* Into a world *

* Of the unknown *

Shadow.

Shadow.

Shadow.

Shadow Moon.

- Come with us.
- We need you, Shadow.

- Come along.
- Shadow.

* I am you *

He requested extra towels.

He could be a bastard,
but he was a good boss.

He was a selfish dick.

He might have believed
his intentions were noble,

but he never did anything that wasn't
in his own self-interest.

But... he did care
for you, though.

It's not a side most people get to see.

He cared about you too,
you know.

Showed it by murdering my wife?

That puta with the spear?

She seemed pretty
goddamn alive to me.

Yeah.

She's the stubborn type.

I, uh,

and my associates

would be remiss
if we did not acknowledge,

with respect,
the foundations

laid by the Old Gods.

Get to the fuckin' point.

What do you want from us?

We are gathered here
in this place

of godlessness...

...to deliver this body

to eternity
in accordance with...

Norse ritual.

In return, we just want peace.

We do not want

this unfortunate death

to ignite violence or war.

Then give us the murderous cow
who did this.

The malefactor,

Laura Moon,

is a mortal acting

on a personal vendetta
against a God!

We know this cannot stand!

We are in agreement!

But we have vowed

to abide by Norse custom
wherein,

if my memory serves me correctly,

it is the duty of the son...

to avenge the father's death.

It is true.

If ancient protocols
are to be observed,

it is you who would have
to avenge Wednesday's murder.

Yeah, he means you have to bash her head in

until brain dribble
through her eyes.

All right.

Give her to me.

Where is the cow?

Oh shit.

Where is the cow?

Where the hell is she?

Where the hell is she, huh?

Three lifetimes;
I'm still trusting

the wrong fucking people.

This motherfucker
is just as guilty as I am.

He recruited me in order
to kill Wednesday

without starting a war.

Well, what else would you
expect her to say?

Fuck off.
How could I get the spear

from Sweeney's hoard
without a God's help?

How could I possibly know
the exact time and place

to find Wednesday
if he didn't tell me?

- She's telling the truth.
- Yeah.

You talk of peace?

Respect?

While you hide behind
a mortal female, huh?

You mud�k.

Remember where we are.

I'll take care of this.

Let us bury our dead,

mourn our losses,
and discuss our options.

Aye.

Aye.

Believe what you will.

But peace is to the benefit

of your side, not ours.

Think about it.

By the time that you would
gather your armies,

SHARD will be in completion,

and the Old Gods
will be de-indexed,

erased,

and forgotten.

Once we deliver Wednesday's
remains to the Tree,

I strongly suggest
you move past this.

Get on with your life.

And do not look back.

Noted.

Hey, listen.

Since we can't do it here,

there's a field just in the back,
across the street.

It's a good place to die.

Now, hit straight
on the forehead

for a quick and clean.

If you hit the neck,
it will be slow and painful.

I recommend the neck.

I'll wait in the car.

The fuckin' smell on that guy.

Bad tuna on a smoke break.

Listen.

I didn't do this for
purely selfish reasons.

Oh, bullshit.

Okay, fine.

But, Shadow, you're free now.

No more of his
compacts or schemes

or war-fuckin' murder.

Okay, you can go after
what you've always wanted:

a white picket fence,

wifey giving you
a couple kids

instead of blowing
your friends.

I...

Don't you fuckin' dare

tell me that you killed him
to make my life better.

You have no idea who I am,
what I want.

I know that you
don't owe him shit.

What did he ever do for you

except make your life
fuckin' miserable?

He gave me a purpose.

To be a better leader
than he ever could've been.

- A leader?
- Mm-hmm.

Of what?

Change.

Before humanity
goes down the tubes.

Okay.

So...

Are you saying
that you're a God now?

I'm sayin' I have a destiny.

And I need to follow it
wherever it takes me.

Cool.

Cool, so you've lost
your fuckin' mind.

Right.

Just kill me now because
you finally have a chance

to unfuck your life,
and what do you do?

You drink
Wednesday's Kool-Aid?

He says, "All aboard,"

you jump on the
fuckin' crazy train?

Just put me out of my misery
so I don't have to watch.

Fine.

Hey, where are you going?

What, y-you don't believe

I'm capable of doing
great things,

so, you know what?
Here's your life.

Okay? Miserable, lonely.

Enjoy.

You didn't corner
the fuckin' market

on destiny, you know?

I have been through
nine gates of hell

since I saw you last.

And I have gained
a little insight too.

Good luck with that.

Congratulations!

You're officially on the way
to becoming your old man!

- Let's go.
- What, you're leaving her?

You're not gonna finish the job?

I am Wednesday's
last living son,

so what happens
to his assassin

is my prerogative.

Yeah?

Well, he can see you right now

and your disrespect.

Shame on you.

I'm sitting vigil for
the old motherfucker.

Let's go.

This fuckin' place.

Thank Gods I found you.

* Carry me home *

* When the light
in my eyes does fade *

* Carry me home *

* When the shadow
comes to take me away *

* Lay down my bones *

* Knowing I'll be
in a better place *

* Release my soul *

* Carry me home *

* Oh yeah yeah *

* Oh yeah yeah *

* Oh yeah yeah *

* Oh yeah yeah *

* Oh yeah yeah *

* Oh yeah yeah *

* Carry me home *

* When the light
in my eyes does fade *

* Carry me home *

* When the shadow
comes to take me away *

* Lay down my bones *

* Knowing I'll be
in a better place *

* Release my soul *

* Carry me *

* Home *

Who the fuck's this?

The Norns.

They tend to the World Tree
and Urd's Well,

whose water nourishes said tree.

We've been waiting for you,

Shadow Moon, son of Odin.

We must prepare.

Please tell me there's
not a gimp involved.

I don't want
to stipulate to that.

This is my first vigil.

If you're not man enough

to execute
your father's murderer,

you don't deserve
to sit at his vaka.

Wasn't your call.

Well, you better hope to die
because if you don't,

I'll take care of it.

The water of time
will wash away your past

and prepare you
for your future.

You know about
this stuff, right?

Am I making
the right decision?

Have you changed
your mind?

No.

Are you trying to consume raw data?

That is so messed up.

What's in the sub-basement?

Artifact 1?

There is no sub-basement
in this building.

I just wanna help you.

Hmm...

I know that you are lying.

Yeah.

You think if I could hack
my way out of that thing,

I wouldn't know
how to reprogram it?

Well, I've done my part
for your vaka, Votan.

It's not the burial you deserve,
but it is something.

You, you could have
just walked away,

but you choose the suffering
of a fool's death.

Huh?

You understand
there is no turning back

once you're on the tree.

I get the rules, Ibis.

Hey.

What does it matter
if you break your promise

to the old man, huh?

He's dead.

I don't really have a choice.

I-I survive this,
I become something more.

Or I stay and Czernobog
hammers me in the face.

Or we find a way out.

We can do like, a...
a number 38 or 41 or 50.

I don't know. Just...

Just don't get on
the tree, fuck's sake.

You have nothing to prove.

I'll see you in nine days.

Don't fight it.

It makes the pain worse.

All this... for a fucking rock?

Is it everything
you hoped it would be?

Yeah.

You!

Yeah.

What the fuck is this thing?

That's your totem.

You have no idea how vital
you are to everything.

You are perhaps the most
powerful of us all.

The embodiment

of human innovation,

which makes you the bridge

from the Old Gods
to the New.

Why don't I know
any of that?

Every time there's an evolution
in human technology,

you evolve along with it,

and forget who you really are.

Being that you never have
your mnemonic of your totem,

you forget your origin.

SHARD is... progress.

There is no progress
without you.

What the fuck?

Who are you?

People say this

is the age of technology.

They're wrong.

This is the age of manipulation.

Trickery is what I do best.

Who the fuck are you?

Who the fuck are you?

Who the fuck are you?

Oh, come on.

It's easy.
Come on.

There's a trick to it.

You should do it before you die.

You do it or you die.

When you cannot see your way,

the night sky will guide you.

We've been awaiting
your arrival, Shadow.

Is this the destiny
you were talkin' about?

Take it from me, Puppy.

You're dying.

I can do this.

I can do this.

Water...

Water.

Okay. Enough.

Enough.

Cashew?

No?

I love 'em.

Native to Brazil, but grow
like motherfuckers in Florida.

He was also a liar,

a cheat, and a con man,

capable of deception
and great cruelty.

You, uh, you might want
to buckle up, huh?

Could get a little bumpy.

And they've got these cover-your-ass

seatbelt signs lit up

so you can't sue 'em.

Not that dead men
can sue anyway.

Oh, please tell me death

isn't being
on a plane with you.

Well, technically,
we are somewhere in between.

No.

No, no, no, no.
This isn't happening.

Something that was planned
even before you were born.

A blood sacrifice by a son?

Wow, that's powerful enough

to restore me
to all my former glory.

Odin, the All-Father.
All powerful, once again.

Attention passenger Moon:

What did Wednesday
ever do for you

except make your life
miserable?

Now, earning your love proved

a little trickier
than I anticipated,

so I appealed
to your godly ambition.

If I'm your son,
I am a God.

Ah.

Jury's still out
on that, son,

but you're definitely
a chip off the old block.

- No, no, no.
- Hmm!

We both crave power.

The only difference is,
I'm not ashamed of it.

You needed a martyr.

Now you're getting it, huh?

Uh-huh.

Oh, this...

...is where I get off.

- Thank you, son.
- Wednesday!

Wednesday!

Father.

Is he...

Yes.

Is this the death

of the Old Gods?

Or something much worse.