All language subtitles for American Horror Story (2011) - S03E11 - Protect the Coven [Bluray-1080p][AAC 5.1][x265].en

Why I had to leave Paris,
the jewel of civilization...

and return to this shithole,
I'll never understand.

Boy, don't set those down.

They go upstairs.

Not the yellow one.

Brown.

Brown like your skin.

Father had to attend to his business.

They have no inner light.

Look at them.
They have no intellect to engage with.

I fear my restless mind will become feeble.

You have us, your daughters.

You have just made my point
abundantly clear.

I need inspiration.

I'm sure you'll find your métier, Mother.

I hear crochet is popular
in New Orleans.

Oh, God.

Get him! Come here!

Come here!

- Hey! Catch him!
- Come here!

Mother!

Do I have to bother with this thing?

Till the kitchen help arrive tomorrow,
we're gonna have to cook if we wanna eat.

Do I have to kill it?

Put the bird down here.

Shh.

Oh, I can't. Please don't make me.

Give me that cleaver.

How hard can it be
to chop the head off a chicken?

Never done it yourself, Mother.

You've always had the cooks
do your dirty work.

What the hell is going on?

I'm sorry, ma'am.

I tried to stack the boxes up myself.

I'm hurt bad.

Let me see what we can do here.

Should I run and find a doctor?

No, I can handle this.

You go on downstairs
and cook up that chicken.

Let me— Let me see
if maybe we have some rags up here.

See what we can find to bind it up.

Here you are. Here, bind this up right quick.

We wanna stop that blood. Come on, spit.

I think I'm gonna like it here.

Our coven mourns.

After facing so many trials,
defending ourselves against onslaught...

forging enemies into friends...

the witches of Miss Robichaux's Academy
have fought for their lives and won.

And so it is with great sadness
we must say goodbye to Nan...

who fell in the tub.
Amen.

If only Misty Day were here
to bring the poor girl back.

I have to do something
before one more of our girls dies.

Your mother's Pol Pot in Givenchy.
What can be done?

Whatever is necessary.

Misty's probably twirled her way
to the Everglades by now. Don't bother.

Now.

The gardener said you'd be here.
You're alive?

Bitch, you left me for dead.

Oh, girl, I thought you were.

Oh, get your ass over here.

Uh-uh!
That's for dismembering me.

And that's for coming back.

I thought I told you
to put her white head in the trash.

I had my own ideas.

Queenie.
You put her back together.

No scars.
If I'd done you, wouldn't look like...

you'd been jammed through a blender.
The important thing is you're safe.

None of us are safe.

Why can't you understand that?

You are coming with us.

Okay, the funeral's over.

Say your prayers as you exit.

I'm not going anywhere with any of y'all.

I've been suffering the tortures
of the damned. I'm not taking another step.

Oh.

The man in the Cornrow City shooting
will be identified as Jack Murphy...

a homeless veteran with PTSD.

When the police finish the investigation,
that'll be the name on the report.

So my son will have
no eulogy then?

He'll have no funeral, no wake,
no fond remembrance?

What Hank did was foolhardy.

But his purpose was righteous.
What he did was set off a storm.

Those witches used a spell. I'm sure of it.

We need those witches
to get government off our backs.

I'll pay if I have to,
more money than they imagined.

When we're healthy again,
they'll pay us back...

with their lives.

I'll set a meeting.

History will tell you—

Not that anyone today
gives a royal you-know-what.

--that I was born to two prominent members
of New Orleans society.

A sit-down
at a neutral location of our choosing.

Ow, Jesus.

No, the meeting has to take place here
in New Orleans.

You know
they're gonna try to kill us.

That's what I'm counting on.

Although my mother's
maiden name was Lovable, heh...

... she did not pass that quality along to me,
her daughter.

I suppose I was an unhappy child.

Not very nice, either.

I kept to myself...

... communing with rodents
and small animals...

... cutting parts off to see how they'd fare
or if they'd die.

You left your dirt in the commode.

Why don't you flush it?

Heh, you flush my shit, bitch.

No one thought I'd amount
to much, but I surprised them all.

I married well.

My lavish soirées
became a coveted invitation.

Cumin.

Coconut.

Cardamom.

Mulligatawny soup.

I've been transported to Rajasthan.

Bravo, Delphine.

It goes perfectly with the wine. Mm.

"How the mighty have fallen"
does not begin to describe my torment.

Oh, yeah.
How you doing, love?

I've been giving plenty thought
to how I'm gonna deal with you.

Here, clean little Ceci.

Shh.

Thinking this time, I'll finish what I started.

Heh, scatter your parts all around town.

Stick that head of yours
in a construction site shithole.

Oh, your days are numbered, woman.

Just when you least expect it.

Who that?

When I'm not cleaning filthy commodes...

... or putting food
in front of their greedy faces...

... washing their sex-stained sheets...

... cleaning up their general filth...

... I pass desperately long
and lonely days and nights...

... fretting over the deterioration
of my troubled mistress's body and soul.

Watching her leave the house each evening
without her undergarment...

... not to return till the wee hours.

Light as a goof or feather.

It's all about the lard, isn't it?

You seem half-mad, dear.

I had the sight once.

I know it's still in me.

It has to be.

I think this could amplify it.

Sorry to intrude, Cordelia.

I was pruning your fig trees.

Oh, figs, oh, figs,
Mother Nature's brown diamonds.

In the fall, the rotting leaves
smell like an Olympian's ejaculate.

And then I realized
what was missing in my life.

Figgy pudding cures the blues
and banishes acne. I'm mad for it.

Lately, I've been asking myself
just what was it that fed my soul back then.

What did you do to your hand, James?

Cut myself with the shears.

Miss Cordelia, why don't you go on
and finish your breakfast and I'll see to—

James, was it?
Yes, ma'am.

Mm-hm.

Because being a hostess
was never enough for my restless mind...

and I realized
it was my childlike curiosity...

about how my niggers ticked.

Much like when I was a child and
I used to carve up a possum or a stray cat.

I just developed a scientific fascination
for their—

Their body parts and their— Their organs...

and their cries of agony.

They made a strange,
almost comforting sound.

Almost like a musical background.

And their thick African blood just...

satisfied a desire
that was deep inside me.

And then you appeared...

like an old friend from the past.

I'll get to the fingers later.

But let's start with your toes.

This little piggy went to market.

And this little piggy stayed home.

This little piggy right here had roast beef.

And this little piggy had none.

And this little piggy cried whee...!

Oh, yeah!

Fiona.

I knew it.

I knew it.

My God, it was the both of them.

They drowned her.
Why would they kill Nan?

Oh, what have we here,
a romantic bubble bath?

I was trying to figure out
what happened to Nan.

Don't you care at all?
Have you met me?

Misty was right. We should have let you rot.

Here. Zoe and I need to talk.

What's the deal, Zoe?

We were supposed to share him,
then you had to go fall in love with him.

No, I didn't.

So it wouldn't bother you
if I got on my kneepads and blew him...

right here, right now.

If he wants it, be my guest.

Thanks. You're a peach.

No! Not anymore.

I love Zoe.

You think you can just throw me away
far some junior varsity mall rat?

I made you, Kyle, not her. You owe me.

No, he doesn't.

He's not your slave.

God, you're such a brat!

Madison, no!

What is all that racket?

Oh, Madison, you are the worst
kind of Hollywood cliché...

a bobblehead with crotchless panties.

And you're a dried-up old Hot Pocket,
but I don't judge.

You can't speak to me that way.
I'm your elder.

Welcome to the revolution, Carrot Top.

As the next Supreme, I'm gonna drive
this coven out of the Dark Ages.

Crotchless panties for everyone.

And as for you, Ken doll...

well, putting you together was fun.

But taking you apart
is gonna be even more fun.

Ah, go slow with that.

Baby.

My granddaddy,
he had this farm in Covington.

We used to go there every summer.

It was the only ray of light in my dark world.

I wanna take you there.

I'll fix it up.

We'll spend out the rest of our days...

drinking Gin Rickeys on this porch.

What's so funny?
Oh, imagine me...

a farm wife.

Milking the cows.

Well, you've lived a big life.

You went everywhere,
you've met everyone...

you've done everything
that your stony little heart desired.

But you were never,
ever truly happy, huh?

Now, for strictly curative reasons...

we gotta kill this young Supreme,
whoever she is.

But she could be our last.

Oh, I'll give up the ax
and you give up the coven.

We could live like—

Like normal folk, for a change.

What do you say?

Deal?

Yes, it's a deal,
but first, you have to do something for me.

One little thing.
Uh-uh.

Not very robust, were you?

Feel better?

Butler.

I thought you'd run off.

No, ma'am.

Been here all along.

I can explain. I—
No.

One doesn't explain art.

One simply admires it.

You can talk.
I thought you were tongueless.

I was when I was alive.

Are you saying you're dead?

Murdered.

Right here in this room.

That's true, isn't it?
I spent enough time in the grave...

to know a spirit when I encounter one.

I've been watching you.

A life without purpose...

is no life at all.

And I thought I'd found my purpose.

Or at least a hobby.

Mostly I think I just made a mess.

Guess who gets to clean it up.

Me, the goddamn maid.

You long for release.

I know how you can achieve it.

Oh, it can't be achieved.

I've been cursed.
Yes.

The black devil who is responsible
for your unending torment...

is sheltered right under this very roof,
treated like an honored guest.

Don't I know it.
Got me waiting on her hand and foot.

It's wrong.
It's more than wrong.

It's a violation of the natural order.

But there's nothing for it.
I drank that potion.

One moment of weakness, of vanity.

Now I'm doomed to scrub out
her chamber pots for all eternity.

Not if she dies.

Why do you care?

I care about this coven,
about preserving the ancient line of Salem.

Everything is at risk because
Fiona has become confused, reckless.

She's forgotten that Marie Laveau has been
and always will be her sworn enemy.

Marie Laveau must die.

She can't die.

The bitch is immortal.

By magic.

And by magic, she can be undone.

What are you talking about?
Heh.

Even a voodoo queen
can be rendered vulnerable...

if only for an instant.

Are you saying I can kill her?

I can provide you with the means.

But you have to do something for me first.
What?

Venture out into the world
and retrieve an item.

It won't be cheap.

Dirty hippie can kiss my ass.

Queenie?

I thought that we should talk.

First of all...

I'm very glad you're back.

Yeah?
Then why did you give my room away?

You left us.

And you went across town
to our sworn enemy.

Who is right now in your guest room
smoking a hookah.

Things around here change fast, but damn.

A lot has happened—
Your husband shot me in the stomach.

To say I'm sorry doesn't begin—
It really doesn't.

Queenie.

You are a very strong
and powerful young woman.

But how did you survive?

Turns out I got some new powers.

I shot him right through my skull.

He shot you with this?

Yes. And I survived.

I'm starting to think
I might be the next Supreme.

Not even a silver bullet can stop me.

Thank you.
Don't touch me.

My eyes are open.

And I promise I'm going to prove that
to you and the girls.

No offense, but since I left, one witch
is dead and another one is missing.

You are just as weak as you've ever been.

You might wanna take
one long-ass vacation.

Let somebody else run this joint for a while.

Now, get out.

Now!

Cordelia.

Delia.

Cordel—

Is it true?
Your daughter is resting comfortably.

I threw a little analgesic spell her way
to help the pain. Searing, don't you know?

She's taken out both eyes?

The blue eye, the brown eye.

Some of my best work,
between us pigeons. All gone.

Why?
Because your daughter...

has become something
you will never understand, Fiona.

She's a hero.

Your girl has ripped her own eyes straight
out of her skull for one reason only:

to protect the coven.

From what, huh?

I'll take care of the Witch Hunters.

And when I do,
this coven will have no more enemies.

No enemies on the outside perhaps...

but danger lurks
within these blanched walls.

Everyone knows it. She sacrificed her eyes
to regain the second sight.

And woe to those among us
who harbor bad thoughts.

I have no secrets.

Then, by all means, go to her. Comfort her.

Put motherly hands
upon your wounded daughter's flesh...

and watch your filthy secrets
be brought to light, laid bare.

No secrets?

Shame on you, Fiona.

I deserve better lies than that.

You are an enemy to this coven
and will be so long as you live.

But Cordelia has your number, slim.

Go to hell, Myrtle Snow.

For what?

Allowing you to see your daughter?

I'll be back.

I just need a drink.

Steady my nerves.

See you soon.

Butler.

Butler.

I've done what you asked.
You got it?

Paid a king's ransom for it too.

Oh. Oh.

An authentic
1895 Armand Marseille Dream Baby.

Are you sure this is the original gown?

There's a certificate of authenticity
in there somewhere.

This was a very limited run, you know.

Dieter Hoffbonner
designed the gown himself.

A grown man taking pleasure in a doll baby.
It's unsavory.

All right, I did my part.

Now, before somebody notices
that half the silver has gone missing...

you give me what you promised me.

Yes.

The potion that will render the voodoo
queen mortal and allow you to end her life.

A few capsules dissolved in her drink.

A few capsules.

Ben—
Shh! No! Never speak it aloud.

It's that powerful?
You have no idea.

You wanted to see me?
Come in, Zoe. Sit down.

I have something for you.

Good God, chickie, don't look at it. You'll
be blinded by the sheer craftsmanship.

Um... Okay. What is it?

My only possession of value.

A sapphire and topaz harvester ant
made for me by Joel Arthur Rosenthal...

the Fabergé of our time.

The harvester ant is one of the most
venomous creatures in the world...

along with Fiona...

and JAR, as the world knows
my dear Joel, toiled on it for months.

Do you want me to wear it?
You could never pull it off.

Only Lee Radziwill or myself
could do it justice.

Now, listen to me carefully.

I want you to hock it in case of emergency.

I'm completely lost.
You're leaving this coven, Zoe...

and you're taking Kyle with you.

I do love Kyle, Myrtle, but I'm not leaving.

I watched you and Kyle together
at Nan's funeral.

Such a pair.

So much in love.

As the great Keats would say:

More happy love!

More happy, happy love!

Forever warm and still to be enjoyed

Forever panting, and forever young

I had a love like that once.

Egon von Furstenberg.

He dumped me.

But everything worked out all right
in the end.

You know why?

Because he went on
to marry the divine Diane.

And without Egon's support,
Diane von Furstenberg...

never would have created
the greatest invention of the century:

the wrap dress.

If you stay here, your life is in grave danger.

I can handle Madison.

She'd slit your throat
then sleep like a baby.

I understand Madison,
the depth of her cynicism.

Go, you and Kyle.

Run away together and start your life over.
I'm committed to this coven.

So was I, and I burned at the stake for it.
What if I'm the next Supreme?

All the more reason to run.
If Madison doesn't end you, Fiona will.

Zoe, you have a boy that loves you.

Because he's damaged goods.

How dare you be so unromantic
and so very, very selfish?

Our dear Cordelia plucked her eyes out
to protect this coven...

and you have the gall
to ignore my words of warning and support.

Now, take these tickets to Epcot...

and my JAR jewels and pack your bags.

Take them in the front.

Be ready for anything,
but keep the dogs at bay.

Those bitches have to walk out of here
untouched.

I guess we are first.

Well, good afternoon, gentlemen.

Thank you for being on time.

Emeril has invited us
to a little tasting this evening.

We don't wanna miss it. Heh.

Please, everyone.

No security?
Don't you wanna check us for weapons?

Cher, I took down your entire company...

with about as much effort as it takes
for me to mix myself a Rob Roy.

And Marie?

Marie is immortal, for chrissake.

You think we're worried about guns?
Which reminds me, I need a drink.

Waiter, martini, please. Filthy.
Do you want something?

Oh, Sprite.
And a Sprite.

Diet Sprite, heh.

All right.

In every negotiation—
A negotiation. Listen up, white devil.

Now, we're sitting here
out of kindness and generosity...

which is more than your son showed the
people that he gunned down in my shop.

Collateral damage.

You know, my friend is right.
We are doing you a favor.

We are willing to make Marie Laveau whole
for any damage done to her shop.

We have only one request.

You have to restore our company.

There are thousands of good,
innocent people out of jobs...

and this has nothing to do with them.

Thank you.

Collateral damage.

Look...

here's the truth:

This war, it's a thing of the past.

Sometimes I feel like I'm trying to rid
the State Department of communists.

This document is signed
by every director in this room.

It calls for a 100-year truce.

No witch hunting of any kind
until all of us who can die are long dead.

This is the end.

We give up.

Mm-hm.

Ok?

Now, this is my offer to you:

You disband
this little merry troupe of assholes...

vowing never to harm another witch
from now until the end of time.

I would also like you to sign over
your house in Berkeley Square to me.

But paint it first.

God knows all the money in the world
can't buy good taste.

Well, now, I'd like a private jet.
Mm.

And Marie wants a private jet.
Ha, ha.

Okay. This is insanity.

We came here to negotiate in good faith.

Too much?

Well, I don't know.

Maybe you're right.

Then here's my other offer.

You can all just die.

Whew.

Well played.

You Harvard men, charming to the end.

Yale, actually.
Hmm.

You know, killing us...

it's not gonna put an end to this war.

Mm. Maybe, baby.

But it's gonna be so much fun
just to watch it happen.

Have you got any last words?

Go to hell, witch bitch.

Well, killing him was easier than I thought.

You make a hell of a martini, mister.

I love you more than jazz, baby doll.

To the beginning of a long, long friendship.

Mm, mm.
Mm, mm.

Mm.

Where do you think you're going?

To hail the conquering hero.

My man swung a mighty ax.
I have to go reward him.

Don't wait up.

Damn, Delphine.

Mom swam

You know, girl,
you may be rotten to the core...

but you do make a sweet French 75.

Thank you, ma'am.

Leave it. Get out.

Only thing that could ruin this moment
is to have to look at your fugly face.

I'll leave when I'm finished.

Oh, you will obey me, servant.

I told you...

I'm not finished.

But you are.

Stupid cow!

Thinking you could kill me.

Yeah, I...

The magic takes time to work.

Your fate is sealed.

Oh, you stupid rube.

That ain't magic.

It's an antihistamine.

And the only thing I'm allergic to is you.

Damn you! Damn you!

Is she dead?

She cannot die.

What?
She's immortal.

But you said—
I just wanted her out of my hair.

You were most likely to cooperate.

Well, turds on that.

What am I supposed to do with her now?

I don't know. Bury her.

She'd just dig her way out.

Make sure she can't.

Shh...

Finally...

a living doll...

all my own.

Don't forget your toothbrush.

Kyle, the bus leaves in, like, an hour.
You have to finish packing.

Do you want me to do it?

I'm not going.

What are you talking about?

I'm afraid.

Of what? Me?

Of me.

Of me hurting you or somebody else.

I have these feelings inside that I can't—

I can't control.

I'm not scared of you.

I'm not scared of you.

Put your things in my bag
and put your shoes on.

We're leaving just like planned.

I love you, Zoe...

but it's not your decision.

More happy love!

More happy, happy love!

More happy love!