Original subtitles

I know this sounds crazy,

but hear me out.

This city has received 30 billion dollars

in federal funds to buy guns,

and I'm asking you to give that to me instead.

We all saw what happened in Metropolis, right?

But our city doesn't have a Superman,

so it's understandable

that our response to intergalactic threats

or whatever giant starfish

comes sliding out of the ocean next,

is firepower,

but firepower does not save lives.

Couple years back, I was in the midst of an attack.

Unnecessary loss of life.

But even worse was the terror.

People should never feel that scared.

I thought I was on the right path back then,

but I was actually moving

in the wrong direction away from my family.

So I did reconnect with my brother, Marcus,

and he reminded me what I wanna be.

I wanna be an architect.

And that's why we got this meeting right here.

Because we built a company, Stewart Brothers.

A company built on a reputation,

a reputation built on high-grade,

impenetrable panic rooms.

But a panic room can only hold one family.

Last time I checked,

Midway City's population is four million.

That means we gotta scale up.

The structure is essentially an underground football stadium.

In the event of an attack, it has the capacity

to shelter 20,000 people

and provide sustainable air, water and food.

With the cash that the feds are fronting...

I can build 40 of these.

That's 40 arks.

There's a rumor about you.

Talk to me.

We heard you were supposed to be the Green Lantern.

I was the Green Lantern... for five minutes.

How comfortable are you navigating

the chain of command, Mr. Stewart?

Well, I'm a Marine, sir.

And call me John.

Well, you're in luck, John.

I may have the ear of the city council,

but it's the military that controls the cash.

If you can sell Colonel Draycott,

what you just sold me,

you'll be building whatever the hell you want

for the rest of your life.

You up for that?

Absolutely. All the way up, sir.

Then let's make it happen, John.

- Thank you. I appreciate it. - Thank you.

Thank you very much. Thank you, sir.

Thank you so much.

Great work.

You fucking did it.

Ah. You got 'em, Chosen.

John?

It's your mother.

What's up?

That's what you say after all this time. "What's up?"

Hello, Bernadette. Is Dad okay?

- He's fine. - Then what?

Hal Jordan wants to apologize.

Hello? You there?

Yeah.

Did you hear what I said?

Yeah, it sounded like you said, "Hal Jordan wants to apologize."

But that man doesn't apologize, and I don't quite understand

how you would know that he wants to.

We speak.

What?

We speak sometimes.

Hal and I, we're...

friends.

Poor man has no family.

He needed a friendly voice when he was locked up,

and we kept talking once he was out.

He's different now.

Grown.

He's back in Rushville.

Eats at the cafe every night, late,

and he's sorry and he wants--

Alright, let's have it.

Have what?

Your fucking apology.

No idea what you're talking about.

Bernadette said you would be here.

Why do you use your mother's first name?

That's just disrespectful.

You fucking talking to my mother is fucking disrespectful.

Well, she'd rather be talking to you, but you broke her heart, didn't you?

Fuck you.

When did you start swearing so much?

Hell, I've been in prison for ten years.

They don't swear that much.

- Why would she lie to me? - I dunno.

Dynamics of your family

are pretty weird though, aren't they?

Would you like some pancakes?

No, I don't want fucking pancakes.

All right, you drove all this way for a sorry you're not gonna get,

you might as well get something to eat.

Oh, I'm not gonna get a sorry?

I took the fall.

And I spent the time.

And we're square.

No, you didn't take the fall.

You fell.

And people got killed.

And we're a long fucking way from being square.

You see that gym teacher on TV?

Flew those pandas from China to California

in that bubble.

I guess no one told him the construct

doesn't have to be so green, huh?

Ripped off that bat guy over in Gotham, too.

Put a beacon right in the middle of the fucking town here

so people can summon him.

You know what he said?

It was a make-good for what we did.

For what you did.

There's more than one killer at this table.

You realize that, don't you?

Holy shit.

Is that the reason that you don't talk to your mother?

Because she's okay with the kill?

Hell, Junior.

It was turning down the ring that she doesn't understand.

But I know exactly why you did it.

Because you were scared.

You were afraid.

Absolutely fucking terrifi--

You don't know shit.

John!

Don't tell anyone you were here.

Please.

Nobody.

Stay the fuck away from my family.

Kerry.

Jesus...

Are you sure?

Yeah, okay. Um...

Yeah, yeah, I, uh...

I'll get there as fast as I can.

Yeah. Bye.

No witnesses.

The security cameras are only on for game days.

Whoever broke his nose probably killed him, but...

this whole goddamn town wanted to break his nose.

- What? - Nothing.

I just never thought he'd actually die.

I shouldn't have called you.

I know you two weren't...

Everyone here hated him.

Everyone.

I just wanted someone else around

who'd care that he was gone.

You know why he came back here?

Yeah.

He came back for me.

Billy and I had been split for three years.

It started with a dumb letter.

I never answered,

but then Hal wrote another one and another.

I figured the only way to get him to stop

was to write back and tell him to cut it the fuck out,

which he did.

Then after he was released, he just moved here.

Said he wanted to make amends.

And, every day, he'd go and knock on doors,

ask folks what he could do to help.

Do their shopping, mow their lawns...

A lot of fuck yous and slammed doors,

but he kept knocking.

Every day.

I told him it was pointless and stupid and...

endearing, to me, anyway.

I never even broached it with Noah,

we just didn't go there.

You must be running on fumes.

I mean, the least I can do is offer you the sofa bed

at my place.

It's okay.

I'll, um...

I'll crash at the motel.

The motel was obliterated, John.

Nobody rebuilt.

Those who could left,

the rest of us stayed and got on with it.

Kerry, I'm sorry.

Yeah, I know.

Hal was too.

He rented a place in town.

I mean, it's not exactly the Ritz,

but I made him change the sheets.

Whatever you do, use the back door.

Jesus, Jordan.

Earl.

Hey, buddy.

Hey.

Nice to see you.

Yeah, yeah, I got you.

- Yeah, Marcus. - Where are you?

- Rushville. - What?

Why the fuck would you go back there?

Don't, man. Give me some good news.

We're on with the colonel.

When?

Friday.

What the hell is that noise?

I'm feeding Hal Jordan's plant.

Jordan? Fuck.

I thought you were done with that shit.

Why are you back there?

He's dead.

Oh, I'm sorry, Earl.

What? Who's Earl?

Jordan's plant. I think I just...

made him sad.

Come home, man. That place is no good for you.

Yeah, I know. I'm just tying up some loose ends.

This is everything we've been working towards.

Everything you've built.

- You got this, Chosen? - Hey, please don't call me that.

But yeah.

I got this.

Hey.

Can I buy you breakfast?

Cafe's still got the best coffee in the state.

Sounds great.

Where was he sitting?

Same place as always, to see whoever came in.

How about you?

Sorry?

Coffee?

Uh, yeah, sure. Thank you.

- So he was alone? - Aren't we all, Sheriff?

Anything to eat, hon?

Uh, no. Coffee's great for me. Thank you.

Go ahead.

What?

Ask me if I killed Hal.

We were having a relationship.

I called you, told you to come all the way here,

faked a little cry.

Pretty smart move to deflect suspicion.

I know you didn't kill him.

How can you be sure?

You're too real to fake cry.

ME needs me at the morgue.

Oh, you want company? I...

I love an autopsy.

That's very thoughtful and weird.

But you're a civilian.

Go ahead and deputize me.

Right now.

By the power vested in me, you're fucking deputized.

Boom!

What a piece of shit.

I know you were together. My condolences.

Still, piece of shit.

You're a piece of shit, too.

Better to get that out of the way

so you don't wonder why I'm ignoring you.

No. I, uh... I appreciate that. Your honesty. Thank you.

Oh, you don't want my honesty, pal.

Bitsy, can we just...?

It's cut and dry. No twists.

Single shot to the head.

Point blank with a nine-millimeter.

- You recover a gun? - Nope.

Lividity says that the body wasn't moved.

Whoever did it was close.

I thought that, maybe, they snuck up on him,

but trajectory's forehead to the back of the skull,

so the shooter was looking him dead on.

- Pun intended. - What about the busted nose?

- There was a fist fight? - It's hard to tell.

He could have been hit in the face five minutes

or two hours before he was dead.

By the way, there's no signs of him fighting back.

Hands and knuckles are clean.

But whoever hit him, they could have left blood.

Yeah, maybe. I swabbed his nose. I sent it off to the FBI

to take and type any blood that's not his.

Yeah, we should get results back in about four months.

Come on, Bitsy!

In my professional capacity, Sheriff, I've done my job.

Why the fuck should I call in a favor to find out whoever popped him?

- I'm sorry. I shoulda-- - Don't. It's okay. I get it.

Noah's picking his school at the hat ceremony Friday

before the game.

This is just...

bad timing.

As soon as I sign the death certificate,

homicide goes over the transom.

Press loves it when a has-been gets murdered.

They're gonna be all over us like stink on skunk.

I can't slow roll filing for four months.

But I can till Monday.

I owe you one.

Then put in a good word for the Huskers.

What about him? The body?

Didn't I say I was ignoring you?

Looked it up on Wikipedia. Parents dead, no kids.

No next of kin means that we burn him up,

pop him in an ash can and, for all I care,

flush him down the toilet like my kid's goldfish.

Here's what was in his pockets. Good night, good luck.

Hey, let me.

How the hell are we supposed to work out what that opens?

Well, I mean, we could search his property,

we could read his mail, we could hack his phone

and trace his most recent footsteps, or...

just try "The Fortress of Storage"?

The fuck?

Greetings, Hal Jordan.

To access the vault, please confirm identity.

Well, you got him on your phone?

What? Why?

This thing needs Jordan's voice to open.

Do you have any messages saved from him?

Okay, I got it, I got it. Ready?

"Buttercup." I know, I know.

It's worse than "honey" or "sweetheart."

But listen, in the song, the guy, he's saying,

"Build me up, don't break my heart,"

because she's a tough fucking customer.

She blows him off, ghosts him, he's waiting by the phone.

She really makes him work for it. So that's you.

That's the shoe that fits.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know, I know. You hate it now,

but listen, it's gonna grow on you,

just like I did.

Anyway, I know Noah has practice, so...

Hey, listen, if you want to come over and watch the 'Skers and--

and-- and share a pizza with me, I...

I'd really love that, buttercup.

All right, bye now.

Thanks.

Recording unacceptable.

Live voice print required.

If you are not Hal Jordan,

do not attempt to access this vault again.

This is your first and only warning.

Oh, shit.

Come over for dinner tonight?

Oh, thanks.

I think I'm just gonna head home,

- make a few calls. - Don't be rude.

Noah would love to see you,

and I make the best meatloaf in Nebraska.

Oh, shit. You don't eat meat.

Oh, actually, I do now.

Good. See you at 7:00?

- Yeah. - Bring beer.

Thank you.

Hey.

We should bury him.

What?

Jordan.

He and I weren't... I mean...

But he deserves, you know, like a...

He's not a fucking goldfish, is what I'm saying.

Guy at the funeral home owes me one.

It's a nice cemetery out back.

Peaceful. Lots of green grass.

I can probably make it happen.

Yeah.

That sounds nice.

Uh, meatloaf, 7:00.

And beer.

John Stewart.

Hi, Mr. Stewart. This is Linda Lockhart,

assistant director at Comfort Cove.

Your father just moved in the other day,

and he is unhappy with the size

of his windows, and while we strive

to accommodate residents' needs, there are safety guidelines.

Linda, is he there with you now?

Yes, he's engaging in a bit of a protest. He's demanding to speak...

Tell him he needs to get on the phone.

...with you, so if you wouldn't mind just hopping on the phone for a minute?

Yeah, that's not gonna happen.

Mr. Stewart, your father says

to say that if you don't get on the phone...

Tell him he needs to call his mom right now.

Yes, okay, I'm telling him now, sir.

He says if you refuse to talk to him,

there will be consequences.

Then consequences it shall be.

No, no, can I talk to him?

What the fuck is this?

Hey, asshole.

What the fuck you think you're doing?

Nah, it's bullshit. I know.

He's got his distress signal right next to your memorial.

It's a bad message.

Turn off the fucking nightlight.

Hey, I'm not the biggest fan either, okay?

That gold tooth should be a fucking hate crime.

So believe me when I say this is my last resort.

Turn it off.

John?

Holy shit, John Stewart.

Billy, you look...

Man, how you doing?

Hey, Billy. Come here.

How about you tell these gentlemen to go home?

I'm just trying to send a message to the Green--

The Green Lantern isn't fucking welcome here.

Or didn't you notice?

How about this? I count to three.

And if you don't turn that goddamn thing off,

we're all gonna turn you off.

Come on, Billy, you're better than that.

Think about your boy, Noah.

Keep my son's name out of your fucking mouth.

One...

two...

Three.

I'm just saying, who wants to go into a panic room?

Bedrooms have beds. Bathrooms have baths.

- Thanks. - Sunrooms have sun.

But panic?

This is how I make a living and I'm getting my hump busted?

- I'm not busting your hump. - Noah, give me a read here.

Yeah, she absolutely is, sir.

Listen, people want peace, and they want safety, okay?

I bring safety to people's homes.

Ninety-nine percent of my clients

will never need to go inside,

but it's just knowing that it's there.

That's the opposite of panic, right?

Then you should call it an opposite of panic room.

Your clients, who are they?

Uh, you know, who you would expect.

People with way too much money.

Celebrities, senators.

Ooh, Noah wants to be a senator.

- Okay, Mom, come on. - As a stepping stone

to the presidency, of course.

- Whoa! Seriously? - Yeah, I like politics.

After what happened here, Noah wrote to FEMA

to have them repair the school, and he wrote again and again

until they showed up and actually did it.

He's a natural-born leader.

- Mom, please. - What?

I'm allowed to brag about my only child.

And I'm definitely allowed to bust humps.

See? What did I say? I knew it.

You called it.

Hey, Joaq.

Okay. Thanks.

I'll be in shortly.

Lila's doing great. Thank you for asking.

Noah, can you go to your room, please?

What? Why? What happened?

Can you just go upstairs, please?

John and I need to talk.

- About Hal Jordan? - Upstairs.

You know that you don't have to keep pretending

you're not upset he got killed?

I mean, Mom, I'm not a goddamn idiot, okay?

- Noah... - I know that you were together.

I think I should head out.

Did you just attack my ex-husband?

No, I defended myself against him.

- You beat up my dad? - No, I... Listen, I swear...

- Don't talk to him. Talk to me. - They jumped me.

- I just defended myself. - What the fuck, John?

You got jumped by four men, and then what?

- You stopped and got the beer? - Well, five, including Billy.

And actually, I got the beer before...

We're going. Get your coat.

- Did you really have to do this? - Don't be naive.

The whole town's eyes are on me, John.

You should have fucking said something.

And I would have still ended up here.

You don't know that.

Okay. Now who's being naive?

You know what? I'm keeping you safe.

Whatever's going on with you, sleep it off.

Lopez.

Let me get my call, man.

- Never should've come back. - Yeah, no shit.

One call.

Please tell me you're headed back.

Colonel's people could call any time.

I need you to wire bail money.

You need me to what you what now?

You heard me, Marcus.

I'd ask if you were joking,

but that means you would know how to joke.

Listen, they don't take credit cards,

so you need to wire it from the company account

first thing tomorrow.

They're gonna vet us.

Diligence, John, you can't have an arrest on your record.

What the fuck is happening back there?

Listen, it's all under control. I got it.

Just wire the money, okay?

Soon as the bail's paid,

you get your ass the fuck back. Hear me?

Loud and clear.

You rang?

Gardner turned that shit off.

- Sup, Stewart? - Yeah, what's up?

Wanna hear something fucking nuts?

Yeah.

First time I met Hal Jordan, he was in jail too.

Not this one, it was, uh, federal.

Real nice. It had pickleball.

Anyway, went down there to, uh, pay my respects.

You know, we had never met.

He got jailed shortly after the...

colossal fucking shit show the two of you put on.

By the way, really damaged the brand.

But I asked him, because it was a classy thing to do,

if he had any wisdom to impart.

And do you know what he said to me?

No, what did he say?

"Go climb a rope."

- Because you're a gym teacher. - No, cause he's a shit fuck.

- And I was an athletic director. - Sorry.

Well, Guy,

athletic director,

that shit fuck is dead.

How?

Somebody shot him in the head.

Jesus.

Uh... Well...

Look, I can see why you lit up my beacon, but, uh...

I can't help you solve this murder. I mean, it's...

bad optics.

You know, that's actually not why I called you.

We're gonna have a funeral,

tomorrow afternoon.

Jordan should be buried in his uniform and ring.

- That's not a thing. - What's not a thing, Guy?

It's the whole uniform-ring thing.

That's military shit. Lanterns don't do that.

He's the first Lantern from Earth.

We can do whatever the fuck we want.

They forged you a new ring, right?

That means Jordan's is decommissioned.

Yeah, and the Guardian's got that shit locked away on Oa.

I can't fly in there and grab a ring.

Oh. Why didn't you just say?

You a little nervous you're gonna get in trouble. It's okay.

- Fuck you. - Motherfucker, you owe me.

Guy, everything you have is because I didn't take it.

You hear what happened at Spazkaban?

- The fuck is "Spazkaban"? - It's space Azkaban.

It's where the Guardians put all the most dangerous fucks

in the galaxy.

Someone busted out Sinestro.

- No shit. - Yeah.

Prime suspect would have been Jordan, but, uh,

he had a pretty good alibi being jammed up

in jail down here.

Seems like it's a bit of a recurring theme.

You gonna help me or not?

Yeah, I'll think about it.

Motherfucker.

Bail's paid.

Sheriff brought your car around front.

And, uh...

It's dead. You should've turned it off.

Yeah.

I know you're mad at me for lying to you,

but I know Hal wanted to apologize.

So I did it for your own good and his.

He sounded worried when I talked to him last.

Are you there now? Call me.

John, you gotta call me back.

It's tonight. Colonel says now or never.

I hope to God you're headed back here now.

Please call me.

Mr. Stewart, this is Linda Lockhart

from Comfort Cove.

Your father just shot out his window with a handgun.

Firearms are strictly prohibited and a violation of our policies.

If someone doesn't pick him up by the end of the day,

we'll have to alert the authorities.

Why you calling, Chosen?

Dad was kicked out of the home.

Okay, somebody needs to pick him up,

and it needs to happen now.

Nah, bad time, little bro.

I'm in the studio. You gotta call Marcus.

Marcus is busy.

Yeah, busy assisting you.

Aaron, this is not the time.

And Pops is just doing this to get your attention.

It's all about you.

- Always has been, always will be. - Nig--

You know what? All right, bet.

You don't want to do me any more favors,

I'll stop doing favors for you.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

What, you want to find out?

Or you want to pause that album that I'm fucking bankrolling

and go and take care of your father?

Our father,

who wasted his whole life on you, Chosen,

which is why it's on you to take care of him.

Yeah. You know what? You right.

You so right. He is on me.

But you ain't.

- How soon do I need to get him? - Fucking now, Aaron!

Hey there, killer.

Make me a cup of coffee, will ya?

Sweet watch.

I'm a bit of a watch perv.

Once read a study that said we watch wearers

are more conscientious than the average bearer.

You know, honest, honorable, scrupulous types.

That's why you were covering for me at the cafe.

You catch on quick.

No wonder you're a big-shot architect.

I didn't kill Jordan.

Then why didn't you tell the sheriff you were with him?

Because this town hates me,

because he told me not to say a word to anyone,

but most of all,

because I'm a Black man in fucking rural Nebraska.

Jesus, John. We're not racist.

Oh, okay.

The first two make sense.

What do you want, Maggie?

Reparations in the amount of 314,536 dollars

and 27 cents.

That's very exact.

That's every penny of damage you and your departed partner

brought to my doorstep. Plus interest.

And you were here? Back then?

I was nine.

I'm sorry.

You know, that's exactly what you said to me

on that shitty fucking day.

You really don't remember me, do you, John?

Three hundred fourteen thousand five hundred thirty-six dollars

and 27 cents.

And hell, throw in the watch.

You have until tomorrow, midnight,

or I tell the sheriff everything.

Hey, Mr. Stewart. Bad time?

No, not at all. Everything okay?

Just on my way to school.

Figured you might need something to wear

for the funeral.

Very thoughtful, Noah. Thank you.

Hey, what's your decision, superstar?

I won't tell nobody.

God, please, let this week be over.

High expectations, huh?

Yes, sir.

The only bar you need to clear is the one you set for yourself.

Nobody else's matters.

- You really believe that? - No, of course not.

I'm just trying to give you an easier ride than I had.

But now you're happy though, right?

Absolutely.

I should head out.

Hey, I'll see you at the funeral?

No, it'd just be weird.

My mom still hasn't talked to me about it.

My dad hated the guy, obviously.

Right. Billy.

Hey, about that, um, I'm sorry.

Don't be. Probably deserved it.

Guardians ever catch wind,

I'm on the first beam to the Phantom Zone.

Yeah, look around you, Gardner.

If nobody gives a shit about Jordan down here,

nobody gives a shit up there.

Yeah, well...

Suit ain't your size and the ring's dead,

so no playing dress-up.

What kind of sick fuck do you think I am?

The kind of sick fuck who's good at hiding

he's a sick fuck.

- You're not staying? - No, paid my respects.

- Not to mention it's... - Bad optics.

Debt's paid, Stewie.

Asshole.

Marcus.

Please tell me you're home.

Hey, listen, I'm not making it home,

but I could still close it, okay?

Just go to the meeting, hand Draycott the phone, okay?

Do you want this deal to happen?

More than anything.

You sure about that, man?

'Cause you wanted shit more than anything before,

- and we know how that went down. - Wait, that wasn't meant for me.

This is.

- You got this? - Of course.

Nah, bro, I want to hear you say it.

Marcus, I got this.

You're lucky I believe in your gifted Black ass.

Yeah, I love you too, man. All right.

Excuse me, are you John?

- Carol Ferris. Hi. - Hi.

Hello. How did you know to be here?

Oh, Sheriff Kane reached out.

She knew Hal and I had a history.

- You were his friend? - Uh, no. Not-- not exactly.

Ah, that tracks.

Only friendship that stuck was the one on his finger.

I was hoping I could convince you

to deliver the eulogy.

You should tell me to fuck off,

but this demands a certain level of bravado

I just don't think I can sell.

Yeah. Fuck off, Carol.

I bet he liked you, John.

And I'll also bet he never said it.

Well, I will try to do your words justice.

Oh, they're not my words.

Of course you wrote your own fucking eulogy.

"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests,

dignitaries, both foreign and alien,

both terrestrial and extraterrestrial,

Mr./Mrs. President and First Lady/Gentleman,

to the scores gathered in my honor...

I am humbled by the countless lives saved,

the battles fought, and the victories achieved

in the name of justice, freedom, and peace."

Uh... "To the evildoers who would view my absence

as a window of opportunity, you're shit out of luck.

My ring has no doubt selected a brave son of a bitch,

ready to continue my fight and to that man or woman, but...

Woman, but probably a man,

not that there would never be a female Lantern,

but I'm just playing the odds here..."

Uh, "You have my admiration.

For there is no greater honor or privilege."

"The weight of the ring is a heavy burden,

one that demands exceptional courage,

sacrifice, and willpower.

And sometimes, even those won't get the job done,

for even in the blackest of nights...

I urge you to carry on.

The world's counting on you. I'm counting on you.

That said, I can't believe I'm actually dead.

I kind of wrote this as a joke, but if you're reading it,

I guess the joke's on me.

I'm truly sorry to any of you that I hurt.

I don't have a good excuse.

Maybe it was just easier to fly

than it was to stay on the ground.

I hope I mattered."

That speech was something.

Something it was.

One-hundred percent Hal.

Hundred and ten percent.

You know, I'm thinking of sticking around

for a couple of more days.

Somebody gotta feed Earl.

And like you said, I think it'd be nice

to have someone around, just...

I don't know, who cares?

You're not planning on beating up my ex again?

Well, I am still a deputy,

so if I have to, it'll be lawful.

Cafe for coffee in the morning?

Absolutely.

Marcus.

I'm here with the colonel.

Great. I'm ready. Put him on.

Mr. Stewart?

Colonel Draycott.

It's an honor, sir, and a privilege.

I'm sorry I couldn't be there in person,

but once you hear what I have to say...

Hello?

Hello?

Shit.

- Yeah, Marcus. - John.

Yeah, uh, call dropped.

Could you put the colonel back on?

Call didn't drop. He just hung up and walked out.

He say why?

You unworthy of his time.

I'm sorry, man. Listen, I can fix this,

I just gotta tie some things up over here.

"I, I, I." What about "we"?

Or is that what you just say in the pitch to make good

for everything you got and I didn't?

Hey, man, listen. Please, I want to come home.

You never came home.

You've been stuck in Rushville for ten years

and you ain't leaving until you finish

whatever the hell it is you and Hal motherfucking Jordan

started out there.

I just pray it don't kill you like it killed him.

Ring charged, five percent.

Goddammit.