Original subtitles

The citizens of Spain woke up to uns that the body of their oppressive former head of state

has been removed from its grave.

Generalissimo Francisco Franco died...

In 1975 and was buried

in a massive monument that the Spanish government later decided...

Hi, hi. Uh...

Go up the stairs, take a right, Apartment 6.

Here I come.

...fascist in a more modest state cemetery.

But now grave robbers have raided that tomb

and took Generalissimo Franco's remains.

Where? Remains a total mystery.

We will not rest at night until we know for sure

that the hell-bent Generalissimo is back underground

that the hell-bent Generalissimo is back underground where he can do no harm.

Where he can do no harm.

Hi, Ashley.

Nice to see you.

Dessert. Drugstore Mint Milanos.

Mmm.

Damn, that's yum. What's in it?

Uh, it's squished tomato, onion, garlic,

but the mushrooms are what do the magic.

I actually...

I made some stuffed guys too.

Toaster-oven canapes? What, am I at a lesbian potluck?

How'd you learn to...

No, I-I-I cooked all my own meals growing up.

And I thought we were DoorDashing.

-Oh, Ashley. -Bro, I'm impressed.

Well, I have to confess.

The shells are prepackaged.

Ooh...

Do they taste depressing?

-Yes. -Aw.

Ashley, um,

can I ask...

-How I'm doing? -Yes.

-Yeah, Ben, that's allowed. -Okay.

It's actually why I'm standing here

dropping disability checks on bodega Mint Milanos.

Relax, I'm joking.

You gotta laugh to keep from screaming, right?

You make it so... ...easy. Like, no wonder Kira walked all over you.

Oh, I'm sorry, that was insensitive.

Yeah, but maybe...

maybe fair.

I probably got, like, a few footprints on my back.

Still.

Sorry.

How's you, Buckaroo?

Oh, I'm okay.

Yeah, no, sleep is off.

Fully off, but...

-Your dreams are wack, right? -Mm-hmm.

Yeah.

Hey, catch.

Geez, caught that.

I'm jumpy, you know?

Like, being horizontal freaks me out.

It's like my head's afraid to even hit the pillow.

I just bolt right up before I even fall asleep.

Hypnic jerks.

That's what they're called, and yeah, me too.

It's a trauma response.

Are you, like, talking to anyone?

Yes, um, I made a profile on a teletherapy thingy.

-I'm gonna do it when I can manage it. -Mm-hmm.

I just started work, you know, hospice care.

It's night shifts.

Good for you.

It's your life and you are getting back into it.

I, for one, am sick of people getting off

on the gory details of my survival.

Yeah, that happened.

Right.

And I usually like being objectified.

To our health.

To our health.

I mean, I was panicking.

And Kira was, like... ...carrying.

So I just dry pop a few of her Xanibars and then just mosey down the Jetway.

-And then... ...bam. -Bam.

The plane gets slammed by a micro burst.

It was the Bermuda Triangle, Ben.

I mean, the siding ripped right off.

And suddenly I'm dropping towards the ocean at terminal velocity.

Next thing I know, it's weeks later and I wake up from a coma.

Find out not one of my 13 girlfriends survived.

Just you, me, a couple of randos.

Oh, and that pilot.

Oh, yeah. What's the latest on him?

Alive, but not kicking,

and his lawyers have him under lock and key.

Anyway, I cornered my orthopedist and I asked him,

"How am I even alive?"

Turns out it was the Xanax.

Apparently the first impact doesn't kill you, it's the bounce-back,

because, you know, your ribs punch straight through your organs,

your spleen, your liver.

But I was so twacked that I didn't brace for impact, I just ragdolled.

Whoa.

What are the odds?

Ta-da.

I mean, I definitely got beat up, though.

But, you know, scars are the tattoos of survival, right?

You can touch it if you want.

-You sure? -Y-Yeah.

Okay.

It's literally pigskin. I know, I'm becoming a human football.

Whoa.

#Blessed.

Hmm.

Honestly, I think it's pretty badass.

You know, I heard what you did, Ben.

Calling all the parents of Kira's friends who died,

checking on them.

You're kind of a good guy.

Survivor's guilt, mostly.

Still, it touched them.

It touched me too.

Can I ask you a blunt question?

-Hmm. -Are you ready?

Do you miss her?

Kira?

Yes, of course I do.

Okay, then what do you miss most?

Oh, God, I mean...

If I'm...

If I'm being honest, the sex.

No, I mean, togetherness.

We were, what, only together three... three months?

You know, she was...

Manipulative.

Well...

demanding when it came to her desire for certain things in particular.

Or everything in particular.

Well, she called it knowing what she wanted.

Is it awful for me to say that most of the time she was a real bitch?

Hey, come on. Kira was the type of girl

that would dip your mascara wand in the toilet

and then laugh when you got a sty.

I mean, you dated her, you must know that.

I'm sorry that that was your experience.

Is it awful for me to say that I'm glad she's dead?

Holy shit, Ashley.

Okay, I don't mean I'm glad she's "dead" dead.

I just mean that, you know, like, my body feels relief.

Like, knowing that she's not...

Around all the time.

And I know I'm not the only one who felt that way, okay?

I mean, I couldn't make it to her funeral 'cause, you know, I was comatose,

but what I heard, that other than her parents and you,

there was, like... like, one other person.

Like, someone from her waitressing days.

Was that even a friend or, like, a funeral ghoul?

I mean, I, of all people, am aware

that most of her girl gang got wiped out, but still, yikes.

Yeah, Kira was a force. -

She was.

I mean, immediately after starting to date,

we-we move in together? I mean...

I don't know. Why did I fall so hard?

Yeah. And so deep.

Maybe a need for safety.

Like someone femmy and decisive.

Like some idealized version of your mother.

Yeah, something like that. Yeah.

Maybe Kira paid someone to put a love spell on you.

Like a "love me" roofie, like...

Oh, my God. Whoa. Sorry.

Whoa, I-I really should not be drinking.

I-I'm on these, like, heavy antibiotics

so my body... doesn't reject these bacon strips.

Makes me say the stupidest...

Okay, maybe we should just watch a movie... ...or something.

You're not stupid. Not at all.

-Yeah, let's watch something. -Okay.

I'm gonna finish this, though.

Blanket.

Okay.

Question.

Do you like scary movies?

No, not really.

Ugh. You big pussy.

Ooh, I love Pacino.

I don't think I... knew this was a Pacino movie.

Are you kidding me? He's the best part.

Whew, I love it when he gets all crazy.

-Ben? -Sorry, I'll be right there.

-Are you okay? -Mm-hmm.

What just happened?

God.

Why am I so fucking lame?

-What? -I have, uh...

I have triskaidekaphobia.

It's not a disease. It's a real fear of the number 13.

It started when I was a child. Once I was walking...

-Ben, are you serious? -through Times Square, right?

Just headed home from work, and all of a sudden

I see this huge ad for moisturizer in giant letters.

"Thirteen active ingredients." Boom.

"Thirteen active ingredients." Boom. My lizard brain goes Code Red.

My lizard brain goes Code Red.

All of a sudden, I instantly vomit and I black out. I collapse...

Ben. Ben. I'm afraid of the number 13 too.

Why do you think I took all that Xanax?

-Are you serious? -It was Friday the 13th. Flight 13.

-The 13th aisle. -Yeah, that. All that.

And Kira knew my whole story and chose to just fly in the face of it.

What whole story?

What? Kira... Kira never told you?

It was May, 2020. A Saturday.

The world had been on lockdown for months.

All the plans turned upside down.

What was meant to be my cousin's Big Island dream destination wedding

turned into a sad Jersey backyard luau

complete with a slow-cooked kalua pig.

Okay, so if we squint, we're in Hawaii.

Oh, pooh.

-It's nice to get out of Gowanus. -Uh-huh.

Just enjoy the fresh air and stop thinking about this...

-Careful. -Thanks.

Is this a joke?

It's probably good right here.

Did they even ask about dietary restrictions? That's sick.

Just smile and nod. We'll get takeout on the way home.

Why are you covering for them?

I just... I don't want you to spiral out about nothing.

You set one foot near your family and... and you're triggered.

It's just... It's-It's the blatant disregard.

-Excuse me. -Hey. No, don't. Hey. Come on. No...

Mmm, no. Sorry, Dad, but no.

I think that we need to acknowledge that for this supposedly happy occasion,

a sentient animal gave everything.

A total bloody sacrifice without consent.

I think this pandemic is asking us

to reevaluate what we need to survive on this planet.

We don't need much, just a roof over our head,

someone to love, a simple meal that we can prepare ourselves.

This needless death of a noble beast reminds us

that we have all become wasteful murderers,

each and eve...

Open the door! Open, open!

Open! O...

I was the only one of the guests who made it out alive.

Thirteen dead.

Butchered like hogs at a slaughterhouse.

Ashley, I wish there was something

-I could... -Hey, I survived.

I remain a lucky girl.

I'm really more concerned about you right now, Ben.

I mean, Ocean's 13 threw you?

You know, panic attacks are actually your body distracting you.

Each attack stops you from having to feel psychic pain.

If you ever want to unpack it, just know you can.

Yeah, where would I even begin?

I don't even remember much of my childhood.

I mean...

Just years and years and years of memories all blurry.

I know I was born on a Friday, the 13th.

My mother died in childbirth.

My dad was ill-equipped to raise me on his own,

but there were lots of people around.

Coming and going, checking on me.

Neighbors from the playground, uncles and aunties.

They were from the same church or something.

Yeah, we always skipped services. Never went.

But they were so kind, all of them.

I don't know, it was like they kind of worshipped me.

When I was six, my memory is a little blurry, but...

It was more blood than I'd ever seen before.

Somebody...

This neighbor had fallen down hard.

She maybe tripped and fell on a knife that she got from the kitchen.

My dad, he scooped her up, put her in his car, sped off.

Blood alcohol level at nearly twice the legal limit,

0.13%.

He ran the stop sign at the T-intersection

and a pickup truck slammed into them at 70 miles per hour.

Killed them both instantly.

I had no one else.

They just dumped me into foster care.

Luckiest people in the world, aren't we?

Six sets of foster parents.

Always a new residence every year.

Always a new residence every year. Each one was a new form of bad.

Each one was a new form of bad.

But there was one woman, Martha.

Martha just wanted to be a mom.

She called me "sonny boy."

She had handmade decorations for every holiday.

Hot breakfasts and Sunday suppers.

Oh, she just...

She spent every day making that house a home for me.

And then, on my 13th birthday,

she died,

at home.

Pancreatic cancer.

Did you tell her how you felt?

Yes.

At the end, I was with her.

-That's why... -Why you do what you do.

Your 13th birthday.

You just... You lose track or you lose your mind.

And then, Kira, she was the last time I really...

That I felt like I was home.

-Oh, man, I'm sorry. -No, it's okay.

-Hi. -Morning.

Oof. Sorry about the scratches.

I got a little carried away.

You wait right here, you little freak.

Jesus.

Hi.

-Should I just hop in? -Yeah, go for it. It's all yours.

Mmm. Cute little tramp stamp you got there.

What? What are you talking about?

Above your butt.

"616." Your hometown area code?

What is that?

What do you mean?

You didn't draw...

Did you draw on me or something?

No, I-I didn't.

What is that?

Did any of those wicked foster parents ever, I don't...

Like, burn you?

Jesus. No.

Well, that's not ink. It's a brand.

Well, that's not ink. It's a brand.