Original subtitles

This is a love story.

Love,

it's supposed to be patient and kind.

But let's be honest,

it's irrational.

It can make us crazy.

And sometimes downright insane.

I should know.

My husband made me small.

Whoa, oh.

No.

Whoa!

It's not a metaphor.

He made me six inches tall.

Help!

I'm literally the size of a dry martini,

shaken, stirred,

and nursing the burn of every sip.

Even at our ugliest,

I still believe our love's worth fighting for.

But fair warning,

it's going to get worse before it gets better.

To us.

To us.

To recapturing the magic.

To the journey, not the destination.

And to Dr. Carmichael,

couples therapist extraordinaire.

- To her words of wisdom. - Uh-hmm.

And speaking of the journey. - It was, uh, bumpy.

Yeah. Yeah, hit a few potholes.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

Checked into separate rooms.

Um, but I am working through

my narcissistic tendencies.

And I am working on my accountability issues.

Uh-hmm. And here we are.

We made it.

Got to the next stop.

Dr. Carmichael's New year, new us:

a grand gesture. I'd like to go first.

- Okay. Great. Yeah. - Okay.

I've arranged to get the Vermont gang back together

at the gray house on New Year's Eve

for our anniversary,

so we can renew our vows.

New year, new us.

I'm speechless.

We were so happy there.

Yeah. Uh-hmm.

- Really? - Really.

Are Gary and Meg gonna be there?

They're giving up Cabo.

- Lulu? - Our daughter

has not returned my calls. - Oh, she's 18, she won't.

They don't do phones. Always send a text.

- Okay. - Okay. My turn.

Okay.

- This will be... - Uh-hmm.

...the last Christmas that we spend in St. Louis

because I have listed our house

with the contingency to rent it back

from the buyer through next December.

I am going to land this big fish

and tomorrow, I'm gonna get Hilton Smith

to bankroll the final stage of my life's work,

so that in one year, Lindy,

we can move back to the gray house

permanently, like I promised years ago.

A clean slate and a fresh start.

I supported you and you got your prize.

And all I ask is that for one more year

you support me so I can get mine.

Are you serious?

The listing went up...

today.

- This is real? - Very.

Les.

I love you.

Lindy, I love you too.

Thank you.

Thank you for inviting me back into our bed.

How does one solve

the problem of feeding the world?

Only Les Littlejohn knows.

Now, what if we could take, say, an ear of corn,

and shrink it to a fraction of its original size?

Just imagine a farmer could grow ten, a hundred,

a thousand ears of corn

in the space it takes to grow one.

But how does cellular reduction work?

My revolutionary molecular transformation process

fundamentally changes the distance between atoms.

Oh, the real question is,

can you restore the corn cob to regular size

after it's been miniaturized?

Not only can we do it, we will do it,

together, Hilton Smith,

we can make more with less,

and that's L-E-S.

I'll take it from here, Les.

Okay.

Now it's time to blow your minds.

We call this the mini barn cart.

- No one calls it that. - Okay. It's just me.

See, I grew up on a farm, where I...

Richard. Sorry. I get excited.

We call this the future.

I am fucking amazed!

It's a corn. And the truck, you know, it's been...

- I know. - Look how tiny it is.

It's being tiny. Yeah.

That's incredible. I got you. I got you.

You did. You really did.

You really did. It is crazy.

Oh, amaze me again.

Make, make it big. I, I, I wanna taste it.

Oh, a big corn takes a big investment.

Oh, there he is. Money Man chiming in.

Well, go on.

Uh, you know, uh, Flavor Saver

was a huge step forward.

It was the first and the best GMO tomato on the market.

But it was a failure.

- Well... - Well...

No, it wasn't. It was a breakthrough,

but it tasted like old Band-Aids.

Admit it. - No, I don't think I will.

Admit it or I walk.

No.

Fuck yeah! You should never admit failure.

I got you. I got you. Hey. - Yes, you did, Hilton.

But this agro tech is going to change the world.

- Gonna change the world. Jinx? - Okay.

And just think, this is only the beginning.

- This is only the beginning. - Sorry, who are you?

Vivienne. Hilton's chief scientist.

I'm the guts, I just write the checks.

She's... - The brains.

And my guts never make mistakes.

I mean, I would write you a check right now,

but for some reason,

I'm just not feeling yummy in my tummy.

You. - Me?

Who are you?

Is this a trick question?

I don't know. Is it?

Well, who are you?

I'm awesome. I'm Hilton.

Well, I'm awesome. I'm Les.

Yeah, I'm gonna need more.

He liked it.

Hey, I'm gonna lose my house.

Hey.

Hey.

Uh, something quietly revealed itself to me.

- Oh, what's that? - Maria's staff pick.

My Rainbow Starts With Black.

It's a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel.

By the one, the only, Lindy McMichael Littlejohn.

That's a lifetime ago.

Mm-mm. Eighteen years and still a fan fave?

Listen, Richie, um, we need to talk.

- Uh-oh. No. - Yeah.

No, we've just begun.

- Richie. - Hold on.

This is just the first act.

Do not turn this into a tragedy.

Well, tragedy is a better story.

Oh, I wish they had, uh,

a section on how to repair an emotional affair.

Listen, you really saw me when I needed it the most.

- I did. - Yeah.

And, and you really gave me

that emotional intimacy that I craved,

you know. - Uh-hmm.

You were a great shoulder,

an ear. - Uh-hmm.

You're so handsome, young.

- Stop it. No, stop it. - Smart.

And maybe in another life, but...

But I fell in love.

And you? - I fell in Les.

- L-E-S. Why? - Yeah.

Les knows the real me,

the worst of me, and he, he still loves me.

- I could love the worst of you. - No.

- Yeah. - He has 20 years on you

and you've known me, like, a few months.

Six and a half.

Les...

- Wait, no, no. - ...he made a grand gesture

and he promised me a fresh start and I believe him.

Why? No, no, no, no, actually, don't say.

Love should remain a mystery.

My mom told me that.

Okay. I'm gonna go.

- Wait, wait, wait. This... - Oh, God. No, no.

I got you this Christmas present.

- Absolutely cannot accept this. - You must

or it means our love was in vain.

- Shh, shh, not love. - Oh, oh. Go. Okay

Just open the card first.

There is no need to thank me, okay?

Merry Christmas, my love.

In anticipation of New Year, new you, and new us,

I thought this would be a great start.

Open the present. I'll wait.

I hate this rag.

I know you hate this rag.

But I knew you'd never send it in yourself.

Give it a quick read. See if you recognize it.

Oh, Richie.

No, no, no, no. What have you done?

I pretended to be your book agent.

Your story is gonna be in The New Yorker.

No! I didn't write this.

I'm fucked.

I know it's overwhelming

and I'm sure you know.

Holy fuck, Richie!

No, no, no! Oh, my fuck.

Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Oh, bitch, pick up. Pick up.

Hi, this is Terry. Leave a message.

Terry, oh, fuck. Okay.

There is a story--

there's a story in New Yorker with my name on it.

And I need you to call me back. This is an emergency.

For serious this time. Call me back.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Uh-hmm? Shut the door.

- Why? - 'Cause I want

to raise my voice.

Jesus jumping crackers.

Why would you invite Hilton

to your charity event at your home tonight?

'Cause he wants to know who I am.

- But Lindy will be there. - And?

I'm sorry, am I the only one that remembers last year?

The, the, the, silent auction, the pool incident?

And you're still serving alcohol this year, right?

Count me out. I'm sorry. I cannot watch.

I don't think that my heart or my stomach

can tolerate another interaction with him.

But we are broke.

And he is all we have.

There are no more interested investors,

Les, with Hilton's kind of cash.

You know what? Lindy and I are fine now.

We're good even. And we're renewing our vows.

New year, new us. - New us.

Yes. You said that last year.

This year, it's gonna stick.

You sleeping in the same bed?

Yes.

- Just sleeping? - Sleeping plus.

- Big plus? - Small plus.

I'd feel so much better if it was big.

We're on the road to big, I promise you.

Um, okay.

Lindy, it's me.

It's me calling you. Um, I'm not panicking.

But just call me back before the party, okay?

It's not an emergency but it's an emergency.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm sorry. - Oh, so sorry, sir.

Um, my, uh, my polyp is gone.

Yeah, but there's a hole in my heart now.

Sounds like a case for the Bard's Guard.

So I'll be unable to attend your party this evening.

Our loss. Good luck, Richard.

You're not Jackie. - I'm Hel.

Don't make me raise it. Who are you?

Uh, I'm Professor Littlejohn, Jackie's professor.

Did she leave for break already? Have I missed her?

I hope not, 'cause I'm her fucking ride.

- Jackie. - Professor Littlejohn.

Yeah, Lindy. You should call me Lindy.

Oh, uh, Hel, uh, Professor Littlejohn

is the reason that I'm here.

Oh, you wrote that book she loves.

I didn't read it. No offense.

None taken. Jackie, I'm so glad I caught you.

Can we talk?

Yeah. Just real quick.

- Oh, you mean without me? - I do.

Oh. Is it okay?

Oh, yeah. Bit rude. No offense, but sure.

Okay. Just have a...

Okay. Hi. Um...

have I done something wrong, Professor Littlejohn?

Oh, no, no, gosh. No, no.

I have. I have.

I, um...

I need to tell you something. Uh...

I loved your short story.

- "Untitled on Purpose"? - Uh-hmm. That's the one.

Yeah, I loved it. It was brilliant.

Uh, the prose was incisive.

Oh, just the voice, fresh, distinguished, rare.

One that deserves the attention

of the New York literati.

Wow.

I mean, what--that, that means

the world to me, Professor Littlejohn.

It's almost-- it's almost Christmas

and you're at my door complimenting my work.

I--oh, my gosh, I couldn't ask for a better gift.

Okay. Listen to me. Listen to me.

You need to turn it into a novel right now.

Now? Really?

Really now. Uh-hmm.

Um...

I guess I could get started over the break.

Nope. You need to take next semester off and just write.

The whole semester?

The whole semester.

You just wanna isolate and write

while it's fresh, while it's here,

while "Untitled on Purpose"

is coursing through you, right?

Yes, yes, I feel it.

Okay. So you need to isolate and write.

Uh, no distractions, no internet,

no novels, no magazines,

no, uh, nothing. Right? - No, no.

Nothing. - And just all winter long,

uh, very A Room of One's Own.

Woolf it. - Right. Right. Woolf it!

- Could you do that? - Yes.

Well, uh, well, Hel's dad, my Uncle Flip,

he has a cabin back in Montana that's super isolated.

- Oh. - Like Walden Pond isolated.

- That's perfect. - Right?

- Yes. Jackie. - Yeah?

This has the potential to be your...

My Rainbow Starts With Black?

No, Professor Littlejohn, it, it couldn't.

You know, I... - Jackie. I should know.

My goal in life is to just write

one, one great novel like you.

That's... - Okay. So we're great?

You're gonna isolate and write? - Yes.

- All semester? - All semester.

- You're going to Montana? - Yes, Professor Littlejohn!

- Remember, no magazines, right? - No.

- No? You don't want any? - Uh-uh.

Just turn off the internet. Okay?

- I will unplug completely. - Yes!

Okay. Hey, Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas to you too!

Okay. Let's--oh.

My notes right here.

Ooh.

Oh, fuck. Oh!

Terry! Thank Christ. Okay. Listen, I...

Lindy, you have 10 minutes.

Blindsiding me with one short story

published in The New Yorker over the last two decades

gets you one.

The fact that we've been friends for more than 20 years

gets you another.

And the other eight belong to Gillian Flynn,

who continues to publish bestsellers,

which bought me a Classic Six off the Park.

I didn't write the story. It's my student's work.

My ex-emotional-lover, long story,

found the fucking story

in my bag and thought it was mine.

And I--why would I correct him, you know?

He sent it in

without my knowledge, on my behalf,

because he, long story, adored me

and thought I was capable of writing something great again.

What the fuck...

I'm taking a Sabbatical from WashU.

I'm headed to the gray house.

Les and I are gonna renew our vows.

Long story, you're invited.

I know you hate him.

I did too. But he is a good dad.

And I'm committed to committing to my marriage.

So I cannot handle

this shit storm right now, which is sure,

by the way, to tarnish your reputation as well.

So if you wanna keep that Classic Six,

then can you please, please

fix this fucking mess so I can focus on my vows

and my marriage like I promised?

I hate you. I know.

I hate me too.

Thank you.

No, no, no. You're not allowed to thank me.

Oliver!

Les has been calling, I've been texting.

And I have been busy.

Les needs you on best behavior tonight.

Hilton Smith is attending.

Condescending as always, Starla.

And who? Necessary.

And he is a big investor. - You know, I thought

the cover was on the pool last year, right?

You know that. - Great.

You already picked up the first framed tomato.

I did. Yup.

- Uh, it's locked. - I know.

- Is this another party protest? - No.

Hilton is here in five.

Starla. Your dress is upstairs.

I need you inside now. - What? What dress?

Les had me assess your wardrobe situation

and, and we both agreed that the only option

was to outsource an upgrade.

Insulting.

And what if I hate it?

Your futures are on the line.

He said to me, quote,

"No new year, new us without new money," unquote.

So please just move.

Get out of the car.

Now!

Bye-bye, Starla.

I will have the valet physically remove you.

I need a minute!

One minute!

I need Hulk out front, stat.

Come on. Tell me what Les is working on.

This is the cover of Scientific American.

Okay, he tells me nothing, Nils.

Uh-hmm. Uh-hmm. And you never ask?

Bullshit, Lindy.

I have printed that same quote from you

10 times over the years.

All I'll say is, first rule of Fight Club.

Lame and outdated.

Just like Scientific American.

Vodka, dry.

Oh, thank you.

Big Red has landed.

Where's Lindy?

I need eyes on Lady Tomato.

- Hilton? - Give me a 20 on Deep Pockets.

man: Roger. None at the second.

Double negative.

Big Red is not happy.

I know amazing style when I see it.

Oh, this is a facade.

Oh, well, the facade is working.

Hmm. I'm teetering on the precipice

of being outed as a fraud.

Which I probably deserve.

I'm supposed to be the supportive wife

but, uh, my career going up in flames

is bangin' around my brain.

It's all I can hear.

What does your husband think about that?

Oh, he has no clue. He's a fraud too.

Is that so?

Uh-hmm.

Welcome, everyone.

Uh, every year, um, I say I'm gonna keep it short

and that this night is not about me,

it's about the children.

And tonight, I'm actually gonna keep that promise

but, you know, let's be honest, um, it has to be about me first

because you're all here to bid on my stuff.

Well, he's just

playing the role of a charitable philanthropist.

But all he really cares about is his life's work first,

himself second, our daughter third,

me last, which I probably deserve.

Well, just curious.

What do you think about his life's work?

And a very personal little ditty about Jack and Diane,

my John Cougar Mellencamp Velcro wallet

with my high school ID still inside. Huh?

Where else you gonna get one of those?

I can't tell you that.

It's so top secret actually,

- I have no idea what it is. - Oh.

Hold on a second. My, my top elf is really trying

to tell me something.

Lady Tomato on the veranda with Deep Pockets,

two drinks in, third on deck.

You're fucking joking or you're fucking fired.

I'll turn in my headset.

But I can tell you,

he's brilliant.

Don't tell him I said that.

Yeah. I mean, I'm already last.

You know, what's after last?

Not much.

So yeah, merry Christmas and happy holidays,

and, uh, hopefully that covers it all. Okay.

- Les, five minutes. - No.

- Two. - One. Later, maybe.

Done. Oh, everybody was up.

Hey, Lindy, stop, stop. You're right--no, no.

- Stop. - I'm just explaining

to this gentleman why there's no

outdoor access this holiday season.

So as a joke, last year, I put into the silent auction,

as a joke, "watch almighty Les walk on water."

I thought the cover was on the pool.

- Oh. - It was not. You got it?

Oh, yeah. - I'm so sorry.

You get it. - Hilton, I'm so sorry.

I just wanna say I'm so sorry.

- Hilton? - Oh, I'd pay right now

to see that, Awesome Les.

If you can walk on water,

you got my money.

Are you being serious?

- No. - No. Oh, oh, great.

So I can still get the money?

After the conversation with your wife,

uh...

- ...I don't know. - Hi, Hilton.

I didn't know, like... - Okay, Lindy.

Why don't you just not say anything

and maybe go and get us a lot of drinks?

Okay. So, um, Hilton,

I don't know what she said exactly...

Well, she said that you put work first,

family third, and her dead last.

That's out of context.

What kind of man are you?

I know. I just--I, I can explain.

- I can explain. - Oh, my God.

Never explain, anything.

- I got you, again. - Oh, yeah. [laughs] Again.

You suck at this.

I do. I do. I do.

So just to be clear, Lindy didn't tank the deal?

She closed it.

Now she's awesome.

Workaholics, they change the world.

I'm a workaholic. I should know. - Thank you.

Oh, thank you so much. - Okay. Okay. Okay.

Thank you so much.

I wanna go to work right away,

like fuck the holidays. - Yeah,

I put it on my Christmas card every year.

Yeah, you really see me.

- We both do. - Oh, it's you again.

Hilton's chief scientist.

Oh, the brains.

And the boots. The boots?

The boots on the ground.

What do the boots do?

The boots ensure

that my guts are never wrong.

The boots are a part of the deal.

I'm all in. Are you, Awesome Les?

Fine. Just, just tell me.

I'm melting down.

Because I fucked the deal?

No, I closed the deal.

I closed the deal. - Fantastic!

- No! - What do you mean no?

- It's... - That's so great!

Oh, my God. I was so worried. - No, Lindy. No. No.

I mean, I... - Now, I am saddled

with one of Hilton's network of bio spies.

His chief scientist is gonna come in

and she's gonna take credit for my work,

and all of this will have been for nothing.

I will be nothing. My legacy will be nothing.

I shall go to the grave without a Nobel.

You know, this was my last chance at greatness.

Gone.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.

Hey, come on. You remember Joan Ryan, huh?

- Yeah, my nemesis at MIT. - That's right.

You were convinced

that the PhD board was gonna pick her over you

and you were gonna be relegated

to just a footnote in the science community

or some other science bad thing, right?

But what actually happened, Les?

They chose me.

They chose you.

And where's Joan Ryan?

Teaching at Berkeley.

And where are you?

- In St. Louis. - But why?

Oh, uh...

to give the finger to those ungrateful pricks at Monsanto,

and to build the Menlo Park of the Midwest.

- And how? - How? Because I am--

I am a partner in my own company,

creating the bioagro tech that will change the world.

That's right. Yeah.

You're gonna change the world.

And you are.

I've always believed that.

Even when you hated me?

Oh.

Especially when I hated you.

So what do I do?

You do what you always do.

You get back in the workshop and you figure it out.

That's what Les Littlejohn does. Yeah.

- Right? - Yeah. Right.

Right? - Oh.

Okay.

That's it.

That's it. Thank you, Lindy.

Thank you for being so understanding.

Oh, God.

So now, I gotta get back in the workshop

and let's move our-- renewing our vows to next year.

That's a fantastic idea.

Les, no, I didn't--what?

Huh? That's what you said, right?

Huh? - Did I?

- Yeah. - Gary and Meg.

Oh, Gary and Meg would much prefer to go to Cabo.

Let's send them something.

- Sign my name. - No, no, no,

that'll be so humiliating to me. - Oh, don't worry. Don't worry.

I'll tell Lulu that she can just go

skiing with her friends like she wanted.

So I'll see you when I see you.

I'll be back when I'm back.

And, um, I love you

and I can't wait for new year, new us next year. Mwah!

Motherfucker!

Is he fucking kidding me?!

I'm...

Lindy?

Um, Richie. Um...

I made a mistake

and I'm, I'm leaving Les tonight.

I hear the emotion in your voice

and it's beautiful.

I've been hoping for a Christmas miracle.

Yeah, I'm gonna go to Vermont.

I'm gonna go to the gray house.

And I, um--

could you--could you come with me?

Where you finished your masterpiece.

I'd be honored to be invited. A gift beyond measure.

Uh, I have 10 vacation days

and one personal day banked...

Um... ...and, uh--oh.

Heart emoji.

Uh, let--let's meet at Mandy's Diner at midnight.

Heart emoji back.

I'll arrive with joy in my step

and a light in my heart.

Did you love my present?

The fuck! Pardon?

Yeah, I...

I didn't have the heart to open it,

so, um, I'll just bring it with me, okay?

New year, new you, new us.

Oh, is Vermont cold? I get...

Everybody out in 30 minutes or Hulk is gonna see me smash.

Iceberg ahead 30 clicks. Abandon ship.

Lady Tomato about to burst.

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

Les promised me a minute.

I'll give you 20.

Excuse me?

I thought the boots up my ass might start after the holidays.

Martin signed the LOI ASAP

and Hilton turned on the money hose in good faith.

I didn't sign. I'm a partner.

Apparently not the important one.

Oh. Well, now I'm inspired and I would like you to leave.

A genius needs his space.

Exactly.

And I plan on being inspired throughout the holidays.

I know this is a difficult transition period.

I'll give you tonight.

But I will be back tomorrow.

Boots on the ground, Dr. Littlejohn.

Fuck me.

Nils, I don't have time.

She what?

You're old. Text me.

Fuck you too.

Starla?

Les.

Freezer is off limits from now on, until I say.

We need to regroup. Where are you going?

I'm leaving you.

Pfft. If anyone should be leaving anyone,

I should be leaving you. - How's that?

For trying to sabotage my career.

Think I don't know, huh?

You don't think Nils would call me

for comment, Lindy.

It's Scientific American, not TMZ.

I'm a hoax, am I?

And threatened by a female scientist

taking credit for my work?

You mentioned Joan?

I'm not a misogynist.

I'm not--I'm not intentionally. - Oh?

If anything, I'm an accidental misogynist

and I too blame the patriarchy for that.

I never said misogynist.

Why would you do this? Why?

You know why.

Is it about Gary and Meg?

This is about you and our marriage,

and breaking the promise of step three: a grand gesture.

And our daughter who hates me.

Sucking the life out of me and my promising writing career.

Career? Stop!

It was one book in the early aughts.

This is what you did. You basically...

you turned in a book report on your fucked-up family...

Oh. ...you changed the names,

you added a little bit of wry sarcasm,

and then you called it fiction,

and you got lucky.

Look... - My Rainbow Starts With Black.

No shit. - My book report

and the subsequent

Oscar-nominated film it's based on,

bought and paid for this extravagantly sad McMansion

in this Podunk red-state town you forced us to move to

so that you could try to be something other than

Mr. Fucking Tomato Head.

This is the last thing I need right now.

- Oh, my... - Yes.

I'm so sorry.

What is it you need right now?

- I need you. Yeah. - Uh-huh.

I need your support. This is my last chance.

You already got your prize.

And in case you forgot,

I was by your side for every fucking sentence.

Every book signing, every interview.

I held your purse, I held my tongue.

You know, I was there for the ride.

And it wasn't always pleasant.

You know, the rollercoaster of insecurity and emotion,

is frankly fucking exhausting.

I have paid that debt!

I have been by your side for 15 years!

You had Flavor Saver and it was insufferable.

Still is. - But I didn't get my moment

in the spotlight like you did.

I didn't get

my prize.

Swing and a miss.

How is it my fault?

How?

My apologies.

Forgive me for being ambitious.

Um, coasting by

on a one-hit wonder isn't enough for me.

Maybe you don't have another hit in you. Huh?

Maybe you're one and done.

Maybe your ego just won't let you read the room.

I would rather be blinded by my ego

than paralyzed by fear. That's me?

That's what you think of me? Yeah.

Because you haven't produced

one goddamn sentence

in 15 years.

What kind of magic do you think you're suddenly gonna find

in your beloved gray house, huh?

With me by your side,

like an emotional support animal,

encouraging you, keeping you calm,

because, quote, "I promised we'd return there one day," unquote.

I mean, I am through being held emotionally hostage

for your creative paralysis.

And there it is, everyone.

That's our show.

Same line every time.

This is the top-secret thing

you've been working on? - Give me that. Give me--

uh, no, no, no, no, no. - A Tonka truck

is not gonna change the world,

let alone "agriculture as we know it."

You have no idea what you're talking about.

Jesus. This is what you said to every female scientist

that's ever had a better idea.

You know, most men overcompensate with a big truck,

It's nice to see yours to scale.

Oh.

Jeez. What a gentleman.

Oh, fuck.

- What? - Oh, no, Lindy.

What's...?

What'd you do?

What is happening to me?

Oh, oh, oh.

Lindy, hey.

Oh, God. Is she dead? Oh.

Lindy.

Say something.

Are you alive?

Oh.

Oh, you're alive!

Fuck you! Fuck you!

♪ Merry Christmas ♪ ♪ I don't wanna fight tonight ♪

♪ Merry Christmas ♪ ♪ I don't wanna fight tonight ♪

♪ Merry Christmas ♪

♪ I don't want to fight ♪

♪ Tonight with you ♪

Good morning.

How long until you can fix me?

I need the truth!

I don't know.

But I'm making really good progress.

It's incredible.

No.

Moving forward,

everything that happens in this lab

will be authorized by me.

Mom wrote something?

The story is viral.

This is a ticking time bomb that is going to blow.

But you're gonna fix that.

That means the world to me.

Richard, were you at my house?

Lindy, wherefore art thou?

I was in the-- I was in the neighborhood.

So I think Mom has had...

An emotional breakdown? She--no, no, no, no.

So Hurricane Lindy is tracking northeast.

No, don't say that.

I'm the villain.

Lindy!

Oh, fuck!

Oh, God.

I've created a tiny monster.