All language subtitles for American.Horror.Story.S10E06.1080p.WEB.h264-GOSSIP

- Hey, Tony,
where you headed?

- I hear the white perch
are schooled up.

Maybe look for some mackerel
the east end of the canal.

- Be careful when you head out,
okay?

There's another big storm
headed in due south.

It's messing with the tides.
See you.

- Thanks.

I think we hit something.

Oh, shit.

- Next order of business:

The home at 29 Commercial

is requesting permission
to change their shingles

from our traditional
"Simply White"

to "Mountain Peak White."

- Can we see the samples?

- Have you lost your mind?

- It's a scandal
that you would even ask.

- Why don't you just
paint them orange?

- Motion denied.

Next order of business:

Jim Levy,
the owner of McHenry's,

is requesting
a 16-inch easement

into the neighbor's green area

so he can have
expanded outdoor dining.

I believe Mr. Levy
is present to make his case.

- Thank you, madam.

As most of you know,
I opened McHenry's

as sister restaurant

to my flagship McHenry's
in Davis Square, Somerville.

- Can it, Levy.
You're wasting your time.

- Excuse me?
- Well,

first of all,
your name is Levy.

I don't know where you get off

owning not one
but two Irish pubs.

That's called cultural
appropriation, sweetheart.

Second of all,
you have terrible taste.

And not just in your footwear.

My friend Mitch Wilson

lives in the house
next to your restaurant.

He has exquisite taste.

And the last thing we need

are your cheap plastic
tables and chairs

soiling his hydrangea bushes.

- Motion denied.

- But--
- Denied.

- Come on, he's be--
- Denied.

Finally, Trooper Remy
of the Mass State Police

would like a moment
to speak to the group.

- Chairwoman, council,
I'm Trooper Jan Remy.

I was sent by the state police
to run the investigation

into your murdered chief.

- I thought the chief
was just missing?

- She was,

until a fisherman ran over
her body in the harbor.

And something you all
may not know

is that the chief
was investigating

a series of murders.

They all followed
the same M.O.--

Throat slashed
with severe uneven wounds,

and a draining of almost all
of the victim's blood.

I just examined
the chief's body

and observed
the exact same wound pattern.

- Boat propeller
could have chewed her up.

- Lotta sharks in the water
at this time.

- Which is why need to stop
protecting the seals.

- I don't mind the sharks

as long as they're only killing
Yankee fans.

- I'm sorry,
but this isn't funny.

A law enforcement officer
was murdered

by what appears to be
a serial killer.

- Do you have proof
that these cases are related?

Right? DNA?

- Not yet.

- I just don't know why
we would make a big fuss

when we don't even know
if there's a problem.

- Your chief
was brutally murdered

and thrown in the harbor.

I'd say that's a problem.

- I mean, do we even know
she was murdered?

- Maybe she went
for a night swim.

- In her uniform?

And many of these murders
occurred miles from the ocean.

Do you think the sharks
and the boat propellers

somehow came on land
to kill all these people?

- Look, Trooper.

We really appreciate
what you're trying to do here.

Mass State Police
are a wonderful organization

full of fine men and women.

- Absolutely.
- Hear, hear.

But these
are wintertime problems.

- What does that mean?
- It means strange things

happen down the cape
in the winter.

Everyone knows it.

Us full-timers just accept it

as the price of living
in such a special place.

But by the time
spring rolls around,

you'll see
it all just magically stops.

And the worst problem we have?

Uh, traffic on Route 6,

a bad sunburn,

and too much butter
on a lobster roll.

- So you're saying
I should just let this go?

- We're saying
that everyone in this room

depends upon the summer
to pay for the winter.

We are saying

that if you start
making noise about this stuff,

maybe the papers in Boston
will pick it up,

and then the New York rags,

and then suddenly,
all of those city-folk

who drive down
for the weekend in July

to spend all of that
sweet city money

get spooked
and decide that maybe

the Berkshires,
or Newport,

or--God forbid--
the Hamptons are just as nice.

But not worth
all the trouble and the worry.

- The gays might stop coming.

- You're all hiding something.

You know something.

- We know what's best
for this community.

We know what's best for you.

- I was sent by
the State of Massachusetts

to come down here and find
out what's been going on,

and that's what I'm gonna do.

Impeding an investigation
is a crime.

And they don't serve
lobster rolls

in Walpole State Prison.

- Don't worry.

I'll take care of it.

- Look,

we have been extremely patient
and understanding

about this whole business
with the pills

and the blood drinking.

I mean, the pales
recede into the woods

during the summer,

and you gluttons
don't feed on anybody

who actual matters
in this town.

- And we don't feed
past Memorial Day.

- Yes.
The system has held.

It's a symbiosis.

You get the freedom
and the quiet

to write and kill,
and we get to brag

about having artists make
their winter home out here.

It adds to the charm.

But this winter has been
completely out of control.

I mean,
you killed the chief.

If that isn't the worst example
of shitting where you eat,

I don't know what is.

- It's not us.
It's the Hollywood people.

They ruin everything.
- It's true.

- Belle and I
are people of the letters.

Literature, the stage--
these are art forms that demand

a degree of decorum and
restraint from their purveyors.

These fucking Hollywood people
have no decency.

- And no self-control.

That beast of a man
gave the pills to his child.

It makes you think that maybe
some of that QAnon business

about them being satanic
baby-killers

is based in some fact.

- All I know is I told you two
to get rid of him days ago.

- I've been very busy.
I'm on a deadline.

- Yeah, well,
so are we.

The council asked me
to convey a message:

"Get rid of the troublemakers,
or all of you

are suddenly
gonna find yourself

going into some very
annoying zoning issues,

including painting
all of the curbs

in front of your houses red

and declaring all of your
domiciles as historic landmarks

which means
that even to change a bulb

will take a six-week
approval process.

You know, I stopped Burger King
from opening in this town.

I can stop you too.

So what's the plan?

- So what do you think?

- Well...

I think you should
kill yourself.

Because you will never
write anything this good--

no one will.
No one has.

- Good,
I'm glad you like it.

I'm kind of proud of it.
- This is really it, Harry.

I mean,
this is your masterpiece.

It's your "Moby Dick,"

your "Romeo and Juliet,"
your "Godfather."

- Thanks,
I know.

Which is why I need to make
a family announcement.

Now that spring is coming,

and I've written basically
five years' worth of stuff

since we've been here...

We're done.

- Done with what?

- With the pills.

It's been a fun ride,

but it's time to get off
this crazy train.

- You mean until next winter,
right?

- I mean for good.

- So now that you're done
with your masterpiece,

we all have to stop?

- It's not like that.
- It's exactly like that.

You're being selfish.
- I'm being a father.

- All of a sudden?
- Don't say that.

After everything
I've done for you this winter--

bringing you
thermoses of blood,

not grounding you for life

for giving your mother a pill
and condemning her

to the misery
of those pale people.

- That wasn't just for me.

You did all of that
for you too!

Tell him he's wrong.

Tell him that we can't stop,
that we don't have to stop.

That we're better
than everybody else.

That no one else matters
but people like us.

- Well, there is some
truth to that, sweetheart.

There's a lot of truth.

Harry, you don't take
your foot off the gas

just as you're pulling out
into the lead.

- I don't want
to have to kill anymore.

I just want to raise you
and enjoy the fruits

of what we've accomplished
this year

and maybe over time
get some of my soul back.

- Yeah, it doesn't
work that way, bubbulah.

Once you sell your soul,
it's gone.

- I don't want to believe that.

- Because you're framing it
as a bad thing,

but it is not.
It's freedom.

Why have a conscience
or a moral code anymore?

You're above all of that.

This is what success
feels like, Harry,

It feels like superiority.

- Alma, I believe in you.

You are better
at playing your violin

than most of us
will ever be at anything.

And now I can be home
all the time

with no distractions
to support your dreams.

I can just be a dad
to you and your brother.

We can do this the right way.

You just have to trust me.

- Okay.

- I love you so much, honey.

- I love you too, Daddy.

- Insane Brainz Memory Boost.

- It's supposed to be
cutting edge.

- I guess it's because "brains"
is spelled with a Z

instead of an S.

I feel the boost already.

- You really think vitamins
are gonna make up

for the black pills?
- I didn't say that.

I just think the transition's
gonna be hard for us,

and it can't hurt
to be as healthy--

- What?
- I thought I saw her.

Dad, you gotta let her go.

She's not some stray cat
that shows up on your porch.

You're talking about
your mother.

That's your mother out there.
- She isn't anything anymore.

She's not even a person.

- Whoever it was is gone.

- Dad?

Did someone break in?

Kay,
you throw another number out.

I'm gonna fly out there
and kick you

in the fucking face.
- Ursula!

- Hang on.
What?

- The kitchen door--
It looks like someone broke in.

- Broke in?

Francis,
I have to call you back.

- I know good help
is hard to find,

but you really should
look into

a new babysitter.

In the meantime,
I've taken it on myself

to look after
the little bundle of joy.

Don't worry,
he'll be safe and sound

and snug as a bug.

But if you aren't at my house
by sunset,

that will change.

Make sure you bring
the string plucker.

This needs to be
a family meeting.

Sincerely, Belle.

- Eli's gone.

She took him.
- Who took him?

- Belle.
You didn't hear anything?

- Well, I heard a bonk or two,
but I figured

he was just
moving around in his crib.

- Newborns don't move around
in their crib.

- Well, what do you
want me to say?

I've been on the phone nonstop.

I mean,
Fincher, Cuarón, Nolan--

they all want to work with you.

- Why would she do this to Eli?

- There's only one reason
I can think of.

Belle's had it in for us
ever since

she found out
you were taking the pills.

That's what this is about.

She thinks
we've crossed the line.

- You mean she wants
to kill us?

- She won't be alone.

Austin will be there.

God knows who else.

We'll never
come out of there alive.

We can't call the police or...

everything will come out.

- We gotta go get Eli,
Dad.

- I can't risk losing you too.

- You read the note.

She wants both of us
or she'll kill him.

I'm not scared.

I took out a police chief,
remember?

Plus,
we have Ursula.

- She's right.

You need to go to Belle's
and face them.

But not with me.
I'm not going with you.

- Chicken-shit little bitch.

- I am digging deep in my soul

to find the small sliver
of goodness

that will allow me
to overlook what you just said.

Hear me out.

- Hello?

Hello?

I know you're out here!

I know that you can hear me!

Just hope you have enough
brain cells left to understand.

Hello?

- Look,
I know this sucks, okay?

I know you got a raw deal.

But you are not monsters.

You're a bunch
of Laurence Fishburnes.

Fishburne turned down
"Pulp Fiction"

because his agent told him he'd
be working with John Travolta--

a has-been.

Now, look,
you all made a very bad call,

but it is not
the end of the story.

Fishburne went on to beat out
Sam Jackson for "The Matrix."

- The moral of the story
is that sometimes

there are second chances.

And that's what I'm here
to offer you--

a second chance.

There's a new pill

with a new formula.

Not only is it more potent
than the last pill,

but it has no side effects.

It might actually undo
what happened to you.

You have to understand...

you can be cured.

You don't have to live this way
anymore.

I am not the enemy.

Okay?
The people who took that pill

and didn't end up like you--
they're the enemy.

They're all laughing at you.

Every success they have

is a slap in your face.

- Care for some
baby charcuterie?

I hear it's delicious.

Pull in the reigns,
Daddy!

Come on. Come on.

- Okay, okay, okay.

- Kay, good.
Much obliged.

- What do you want?

- Harry!

- Belle,

whatever you're thinking
of doing,

just let me take my kids
and leave town.

I swear, you will never
hear from us again.

- Until your supply of pills
runs out.

- No,
we're off the pills.

We're never taking them again.

I just want to go back
to my old life.

Sure you do.

- Listen, I just finished
writing something

and it's gonna be huge.

I don't need the pills anymore.
It's the truth.

- You forget you're talking
to a fellow writer.

Uh--
correction:

Novelists are writers.

Screenwriters are more like
creative typists.

Really,

all we are
is professional liars.

And the truth is whatever
we decide it is.

But lucky for us,

the tasting party
is just getting started.

- Don't hurt him!
- Ahh!

- I promise he won't feel
a thing.

But you,
on the other hand,

are going to feel it
profoundly.

- Can't say we didn't
give you a chance, Harry.

We tried to be welcoming.

P-town is a welcoming place.

But you fucked it up.

- Dad.

- It's my fault, really.

I should have seen how this
was going to pan out.

I mean,
is there anything

Hollywood hasn't fucked up
in the end?

More often than not,
whatever came out of there

finished in a pool
of its own piss.

Whether it be Marilyn
or even Fitzgerald.

I mean,
even back in the early 1900s

when the silent pictures
were coming out

and the film people were
moving to Hollywood,

the locals
didn't want them there.

They called film people
"movies" because they were all

moving around
and causing trouble.

It was a term of disdain.

The locals back, they were
right and so are we.

But unlike them,

we're going to clean up
this town!

- Go, come on!

Come on.

Shit!

- Shit.

Well,

that went better than expected.

Was touch and go there
for a sec.

I wasn't sure I was
getting through to them.

But in the end, they bought it
hook, line, and sinker.

Thank you.

Now tell me how the fuck
you did that.

- Well, sometimes it's best

not to ask
how the sausage is made.

Just know that
I would do anything

for my favorite client.

- All that wasted talent.

- Oh, here, I'll do it.

He's fine.
he's fine.

See?
Shh.

Oh, Jesus,
I think this kid is actually

bringing out
my maternal instinct.

I hope there's a pill for that.

- Are you okay?

- Yeah.

- You were so brave.
- So were you, Dad.

- We're gonna be all right.

We're gonna get through this
and go back to our old life

and be happy--
the three of us.

- I'm sorry, Dad,

but it's just gonna be
the two of us.

- What?
- I gotta be the greatest.

I can't let you stop me.

- I don't think I'll ever
get used to that.

- It's a loss.

He could have been
the next Sorkin.

It's fucking tragic.

So it looks like
the new pill really works.

- Actually, they were old pills
that I rejected

'cause they caused
some strange behavior.

Made the users
turn on each other.

On these poor fools,
it made then turn on anyone

using and talented.

- Hmm, explains why they
didn't come after me.

- You really think
the state trooper's

gonna believe this story?

That he killed all of them?

- Well, it's gonna take
a little dressing,

a little finessing,

but a strung-out
Hollywood writer

under pressure and doing drugs
going all Manson?

I think that's a story
I can sell.

But that can wait.

First, we set you up
in La La Land

so you can start
cranking out your pills.

There's a whole city
bursting with talent

just waiting to shell out
for a boost.

- Do you mind?

I don't like people
watching me while I eat.

- Yeah?

Hey.

- Hey!

- Show me your hands!

- Get back!
- Hands up!

- Get back!
- Hands up!

- This is the fifth
police officer

who has been killed
by fellow officers

after attacking
what appears to be

random victims in the street.

We have learned that
each of the dead officers

are well-known members of what
police reform activists

call the Bad Apple List,

which is
an unofficial database

of LAPD officers with multiple
race-based complaints

filed against them.

- Thank you, Miranda.
More on this story at 10:00.

- You shouldn't be
messing with police.

- I'm sorry,
didn't you kill and eat a cop?

- That was out of necessity.

- What I'm doing
is out of necessity too.

Every one of those pricks

had no business
protecting and serving.

Racist, sadistic garbage.

- What if they find out that
they're all on your pills?

- They won't.
And if they do,

they won't know what it is.

It's a proprietary formula,

which means the only people
that know about it

are me and the military scum
who paid for me to develop it.

And they're not giving up
their top security clearance

to help some local detectives

figure out what happened
to a bunch of shitty cops.

Look.

I don't need money anymore.

Ursula's taking care of that
with her big client list.

I have nothing left to prove
as a scientist.

I think I'll start giving back
to my community.

Do some public service.

For me, that means ID'ing
the worst cops in the city,

sneaking them a little bit
of my magic medicine,

and sitting back and smiling

as they slowly lose their shit
and get what they deserve.

Now stop sassing me
and practice your violin.

You're all of five years old
trying to tell me how to be.

- I'm nine.
- You wanna make it to ten?

- I know she is
a first-time creator.

I know she was driving
for Uber Eats a month ago.

But this is what I do,
Kevin.

I find geniuses
and genius ain't cheap.

So either you up your offer
by a lot,

or if you prefer,
you can just suck my dick.

Where's Eli?

- With the nanny.
How was your day?

- Oh, God,
I'm destroyed.

I've been trolling Starbucks
all day handing out pills

to anyone with a laptop
with a script on it.

- That the most efficient use
of your time?

- Who has time to read
submissions and talk to agents

about who they think
is talented?

I mean,
we like this lifestyle.

If we wanna keep it up,

we've gotta be
in the volume business.

- You're creating
a lot of pale people.

Especially pushing pills
at a Starbucks.

No self-respecting writer
writes at a Starbucks.

- So what?
If they're talentless,

they're useless anyway.

- That's my girl.

- I can't believe
you turned out so well

being raised by Harry and that
glass of warm oat milk.

How's the practicing?

- Good.
I'm ready.

- I know you're gonna get it,
sweetheart.

- I could use something to eat
before I go, though.

- Oh, I picked up a hustler

from that donut shop
on Santa Monica and Highland.

He's out in the pool house.

You look adorable.

Proud of you.

- Oh, did you get donuts?
- Of course I did.

- Oh.

Not what I was expecting.

- Me neither.
But I'll take it.

- Take a seat.

All right,
it's down to the two of you.

So just sit tight
so the team can chat.

Won't be too long.

Though,
to be honest,

you're making it
a very hard choice.

You're both wonderful.

- So...

how long have you been playing?

And don't say,
"Since I was a kid."

- I'm better than you.

- Excuse me?

- I said I'm better than you.

- Did you listen
to my audition?

- No.

I didn't have to.
I know I'm better than you.

I'm better than everyone.

Wow,
you are something else.

I'm a prodigy too.

Graduated Juilliard
when I was 16.

You're new to this game,

but what you'll
start to realize

is that there are lots of us.

Most of the players in the big
philharmonics were prodigies.

It's not as big a deal
once you meet others like you.

- There are no others like me.

- I guess that's true,

but you think
that's a good thing.

It's actually why you're
not going to get this job.

If you get first chair,
it's a huge story.

"Today Show,"
"People" magazine,

"60 Minutes" maybe,
if it's a slow news month.

You're a novelty.
A distraction.

Audiences will come to see you

and get bummed out
if you're not featured.

It's bad for morale.

Makes it impossible
to play anything

that doesn't have
a violin solo.

It becomes a freakshow.

We play classical music.

We are as square as we can be.

You're the bearded
fucking lady, kid.

What?

- Where'd Rory go?

- He said he was going out back
to have a cigarette.

- Talent rises,

but it is nothing
without craft.

That's why you need
the Story Prism.

The Story Prism is hard
like a diamond.

It takes commitment.

You.
Stand up.

You look confused.

- I still don't understand
the difference between

the Primal Defense Co-tagonist

or the Shadow-Trickster
Pre-tagonist.

Why does it have to be
so complicated?

- Because drama is life
and life is complicated.

Now get the fuck out.

He'll never amount
to anything.

He's never gonna write
a screenplay

that gleams like a diamond.
And full refund.

He's gonna need
every penny he's got.

- Screw you.

Now for the rest of us,
I have a surprise.

I told you when you
finished my seminar

you would walk out
of this building changed.

Well,
get ready to meet someone.

Her client,
the late Harry Gardener,

just swept the awards season.

And in the last six months,

other clients
have barnstormed this town.

They're launching projects
all over

broadcast and streaming.

It's an unprecedented
winning streak.

Ursula Khan.

- Thank you. Thank you.

- A writer once said,
"Writing is easy.

Just sit at your desk,
open a vein, and bleed."

Now, we've all heard
that quote, right?

And it's been attributed
to a lot of people.

But whoever did say it
didn't know the half.

If you want the brass ring,

you better be wearing
brass knuckles.

Greatness comes with a price.

And you just have to
ask yourself,

how much do you want it?

Are you ready to bleed?

- Are you?
- Yes!

- I'd like all of you to reach
under your seats right now.

Don't be shy.

There's a little something
special under there.

Now, it looks like a pill,

but it's not.

It's the key
to condos in Malibu,

to dinner meetings
with Charlize,

to reservations
at the Tower Bar.

Tell yourself it's a vitamin.

A sugar pill placebo
packed with Satan.

Just don't say no.

- Wait.

I'm sorry,
you didn't tell me about this.

Is this a stimulant?

Because good writers
don't need that.

I don't need that.

I'm sorry,
we'll take a quick break--

- Shut the fuck up,
you hack.

You teach
a screenwriting class.

Have you ever sold
a fucking script?

- Yes.
- One.

A failed Orion Stallone flick
back in '88?

You know nothing.

I know something.

Would you all rather
listen to me

or this sad,
fraudulent typist?

You.

- Everything you've heard
is bullshit.

Reality isn't the choice
between the blue pill

and the red pill.

It's the black pill.

This pill.

My special vitamin brain sauce
stimulant

with zero risk
and maximum upside.

I'm gonna tell you a little
something about success

that is the bedrock
of this dirty business

that no one else
wants to admit.

It's just one swallow away.

Spit or swallow--
the choice is yours.

Now, as it's going down,

that tingling that you feel?

It's not the pill

and it isn't that food truck
burrito you had for lunch

and it isn't nerves.

It's the future taking hold.

Your future.

- It looks like the streets
are running red

with blood and metaphors.

At least all of those
no-talent monsters

are taking their pain out
in a real way.

Being great is hard.

The rest of us
just don't get it.

We drive ourselves crazy
with envy

longing for just a taste
of the delicious madness

of the creative mind.

But the truth is,

most people aren't willing
to put in the work.

They focus on the success,
the notoriety, the wealth

that their great piece of art
will bring.

But the journey there
is tedious.

And those that achieve
greatness

only do so because
they are fucked up enough

to push through the pain
and failure

it takes to reach
your potential.

At least with these pills
the world can find out

if you're any good.

- Sorry, baby.

Shh, don't cry.

We're gonna move on
to another place,

create another drug--

maybe one that will make
you and I live forever.

Mommy's here.

She's on top of it.

- To be told we are talented,

isn't that all we ever want?

The truth is, history will
only remember a handful of us,

but at least now

we're leveling
the playing field.