Original subtitles

Thank you for the blood, Steve.

Uh, by any chance, did you start eating strawberries recently?

Yeah. I'm getting into smoothies.

-Yum. Well, keep it up. -Say, you want to hang

really quick? Watch a game?

-No, thank you. -We could just read together.

Liz.

You owe me five dollars. It was strawberries.

Charles, do you think, I-I don't know,

maybe it's possible that you're a little rude to Steve?

To who? Oh, the walking blood bag?

I don't think I'm rude to him, no.

Okay, well, it's just, he's clearly craving

some sort of connection with you,

and I think if you took the time to get to know Steve,

who knows, you might really like him.

Unfortunately, I don't have that kind of time.

-You literally live forever. -And yet,

still not long enough for Steve.

Mmm!

Delicious, fresh-squeezed Steve.

Yeah, could I get some of that?

Mm-hmm.

Does that look straight?

Yeah.

Mom, is it wise for us to have a nine-million-dollar painting

just hanging in our entryway?

Nobody knows it's an actual Renoir.

And this way, I get to enjoy it.

And think back on a beautiful summer.

Okay. Always kind of wondered,

did anything ever happen between you and that Renoir guy?

No. But he wanted it to.

He caught a glimpse of my knee at a Parisian picnic.

Oof. I left him panting like a dog.

-Mom. -You asked.

Ugh, you hung that thing up again?

Hello, Phyllis.

It's like every house we move to,

we have to have that crappy knockoff in the entryway.

It doesn't even look like a real Renoir.

Well, we can't all have your eye, Phyllis.

You know who makes great stuff?

My friend Diane Rispoli. Puts it up on Etsy.

What that woman can do with dry macaroni.

Now, that's art.

I actually have seen some of Diane's stuff. It's good.

-Okay. -What?

Ugh, that was a day.

I am so excited to sit on my couch

and enjoy a little Steve.

Aww, shucks,

well, I'm excited to enjoy myself a little Charles.

Oh, my God.

We're having a game night, apparently.

Max planned it,

and he invited Steve.

As a fun surprise for all of us.

It's so cool to be inside your guys' house.

It looks so different from all my sketches.

-Good, Charles, you're home. -Max, a word in the other room?

Or we could just dive in.

But the other room sounds good, too. Sure.

I'll take some chicken potpie, if it's easy.

You invited him over for game night?

What were you thinking?

Hasn't anyone ever taught you not to play with your food?

Charles, he's not just food, he's a person, okay?

Come on. This will mean so much to him

-and cost you so little. -Game night.

Why must humans devise such elaborate ways to waste

the brief time they have?

You know what? You're right.

It's probably not your thing anyway.

Especially the trivia game

that we were gonna play, Minutia Battle,

in which the person with the most

arcane knowledge of history and world events

gets to rub it in everyone else's faces.

Mm.

Um, I suppose I could give it an hour.

"Which German craftsman invented the printing press in 1450?"

Johannes Gutenberg,

although movable type was already in use in East Asia,

a persnickety correction

that earns me three Pedantic Points.

-Boom! -Can we get into some

post-Renaissance minutia?

Yeah, or how about some Old West stuff?

Maybe some 1980s Miami car culture?

Wow.

-Charles, you're so smart. -Oh.

I wish I was smart.

Oh.

You okay there, Steve?

I'm feeling a little down,

maybe 'cause I just turned 50.

Oh, when was your birthday?

-Today. -Dear God.

-Today? -This is kind of my birthday party.

-Oh, no. -And just hearing about all these

accomplished people from throughout history,

these kings and inventors and pop divas?

It makes me realize

I've never really done anything with my life.

Hey, look at me.

It is never too late.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life, Steve.

And if you go for it, anything is possible.

-Do you really think so? -Yeah.

I mean, listen to this man, Steve.

He is a master motivator.

Personal trainer.

-Wow. -And I firmly believe

that if you set your mind to it,

you can do anything that you want.

Except doing a taco with your tongue.

That is genetics.

Okay, sue me,

I went shopping.

But I got a lot of fun stuff for decorating the house.

Oh, wow, Phyllis, that is so great.

-Tell me all about it. -Every time we move,

Phyllis really wants to put her stamp on the decorating,

but my mom is a pro.

How great is this?

-Whoa... -I dare you to look at that and not smile.

-I am smiling. -Now I know you like that

knockoff Renoir, but I think this might look fabulous

-in the entryway. -Huh.

But do you really want this in such a transitional space

where people are just sort of breezing past?

-You thinking the living room? -That was my first thought.

-Oh. -Although is that too "first thought"?

Because you know the basement

could really use some brightening up.

Or... I love this idea...

why don't Charles and I have it in our bedroom?

Absolutely not. The basement it is.

Okay, but I'm gonna look at it a lot down there

and you cannot stop me, Phyllis.

-And that's how it's done. -Wow.

-Is that a vampire power? -Nope.

She's just been around a long time. Very manipulative.

-Oh. -Yeah.

-Thank you. -Mm-hmm.

So, I just received a Craigslist message

from our friend Steve the Blood Guy.

Sort of a thank-you note.

-Aww, that's so nice. -I said "sort of."

-There's more. -Okay.

-What is going on, Charles? -Let me read it to you

"Dear Blythe family,

"Thank you for the wonderful night.

"And for changing my life.

"Because of you, I've decided to follow my dreams.

"So, I'm leaving town tonight.

"Goodbye forever.

-Love, Steve." -So...

our blood supply is moving away?

All because of young Max here.

Oh, boy.

That's it?

Liz, these rations are brutal.

I've been starving for three days.

Then you'll be relieved to hear no more rationing,

because we're officially out of blood.

-Oh, come on. -This cannot be happening.

Still no reply from Steve.

I've sent him, like, 30 Craigslist messages.

How do you guys not have his phone number?

-Or-or even his last name? -Right,

because this is our fault, Mr. Game Night.

Sorry. Whoa, sorry.

I'm very hungry, Max.

Do you have any idea how hard it is

to find somebody willing to sell us his own blood,

-no questions asked? -Yeah.

Finding a replacement is not easy.

I'm getting no luck with this new listing.

It's like, bro, I want your blood,

I don't want to send you pictures of my feet.

I hate to say it, but maybe

it's time to dust off The List.

It's not what any of us want, but I think the moment

-might call for it. -W-What is The List?

It's a list of people we can kill in times of scarcity.

You know, those that the world wouldn't miss:

loners, losers, waiters who say,

"We do things a little differently around here."

Unfortunately, we haven't lived

in Seattle very long, so The List is just a guy

who stole Charles's parking space at Target...

-Quite right. -and our elderly neighbor

-Mrs. Kellerman. -What?

The sweet old lady who's always gardening?

Widowed last fall, beset with bunions.

We'd almost be doing her a favor.

No. No, no, no. No.

T-There has to be another way to get blood.

-What about animals? -Oh, wait.

We never thought of animals.

Max has revolutionized our entire existence.

Why, songs will be sung about him.

-Animal blood doesn't work, man. -Yeah, I got that.

Wait, you guys, what about a blood bank?

Nah, they don't do withdrawals.

I've asked, and they get really weird about it.

No, I'm talking about robbing a blood bank.

-That's interesting. -Dude. Yes.

I've always wanted to rob a bank.

I don't know if you know this about me,

but I'm from the Old West.

Or as we used to call it back then, the West.

No, that's not right.

What do giraffes say?

Oh. Hey, Phyllis. Don't mind me, I'm just grabbing

-some clothes from my boxes. -Oh, yeah, you got a lot of stuff down here.

Yeah, I know, I should really go through and weed some stuff out.

At the old place, I was living alone.

-I'm still getting used to this coven life. -What?

I said that I'm loving life.

W-Which is of course 'cause I'm alive.

The point is, I'm keeping my boxes down here

for the time being 'cause Liz said

she wanted them out of the way.

So, she said the basement

is where she wanted things out of the way?

-Uh, yeah. -Huh.

Interesting.

Is it?

Son of a bitch. She played me.

And nobody plays Phyllis.

You want to know why?

'Cause you're a really big dill.

Exactly.

All right, here's the mission:

we break into the blood bank, secure the goods

and escape undetected.

And here's how we do it.

We roll up under cover of night.

Max, you'll use bolt cutters to breach the perimeter.

I could easily use super strength

to just rip the fence open,

-but wanted you to feel included. -Thank you.

Once we're through the fence, Charles,

you'll use telekinesis to disable the security cameras.

Then Emma, you'll pick the locks,

because you've got tiny hands

and you dated Houdini.

-What? -Max, I have a past.

Get over it.

Once we're in, I evade security

and get the goods.

-Wow. That's high. -Hey.

Then we grab the blood and we're out.

Bingo.

Now, let's do this.

-Yep. -After they close.

-Oh, yeah. -And when it gets dark.

-Maybe let the traffic die down. -So, like,

-a while from now. -Yeah, like, a little while.

-Want to watch a movie? -Let's watch a movie.

-Yeah, let's watch a movie. -Just relax a little bit.

Okay, let's go.

Oh! Phyllis.

Phyllis?

Liz?

What is that giraffe painting doing on the wall?

And why is my Renoir... type painting over there?

Because you tricked me into hiding

my giraffe in the basement.

Just like you've been doing to all my cool statement pieces

for, apparently, the last 30 years.

-Well, that ends now, lady. -Okay, Phyllis,

I am very hungry.

I haven't eaten all day.

I really don't want to debate this with you right now.

I can't have that giraffe in the entryway.

-Why not? -Because it's not art.

It's garbage.

Hideous, tacky, junk-bin crap.

Just like everything you buy.

-You take that back. -No.

Well, then, your painting is garbage now, too.

-What does that mean? -It means this.

No! No, no!

Just give me a minute with this lock, guys.

Charles, great job with those security cameras.

-Thank you. -And Max, I'm sure you could've cut

through a fence had there been one.

-We believe in you. -Yeah?

I mean, I've got special skills, too, you know,

even if I haven't developed a bunch of vampire powers yet.

-Like what? -Uh, conversational Spanish.

Horseback riding. Also, I was captain

of my college improv team.

-Really? -Well, I mean, we were all captains.

It's a collaborative art form.

Got it.

Hey. Yes, Emma.

Hey, excellent teamwork, guys.

We planned, we executed and now we finish the job.

-Oh, crap. -What?

We can't enter without being formally invited in.

Oh, because we're... Right, got it.

-Little fly in the ointment. -Oh.

-Oh, here. -Oh. You, sir.

Hello.

Would you mind inviting us in?

Just a simple invite.

-Ah. Thank you. -Yay.

-Guess not. Okay. Go. -Oh... oh...

Okay, run, run, run. Go. Yeah.

Maybe we do this in the kitchen.

You know? Lot of tile, easy cleanup.

No, I think the living room will work.

We'll put a tarp down and just roll her body up in that

-when we're done. -What are you guys talking about?

It's time. We have no other choice.

-We're killing Kellerman. -What? Guys, no.

We invited her over for tea, which we're gonna

let her have, 'cause it's the decent thing to do.

Before you literally murder her?

Look, none of us wants to kill Mrs. Kellerman.

I do. She looks delicious.

Her skin's so papery-thin, she's a delicacy.

But, uh, do we have to kill her? I mean,

can't-can't we just bite her and suck a little of her blood?

Oh, yes, we'll just drink a little bit

and send her on her way.

What a revelatory idea. He's done it again.

Dad, he doesn't know. He's trying to help.

Biting her would turn her into a vampire, Max.

-But in Twilight... -Never

-"but in Twilight" us, bro. -Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Hello.

-Steve? -Hi.

I got all your messages. I'm back.

My dream didn't work out.

I'm basically a complete failure.

Uh-huh. Say, is there blood in that cooler?

Oh. Yeah.

-Here you go. -Well, I should be going.

Y-You're not even gonna try to hang out?

What's the point? Why would anyone

want to hang out with a loser like me?

All righty, then. See you Wednesday.

Oh, mama.

Who's hungry?

What? What?

He just seemed so sad.

Yeah, I don't feel great about this.

Isn't this what we all wanted?

Steve's back, the blood is flowing.

Plus, added bonus, he doesn't even want to hang out anymore.

Because he seems like he lost his will to live.

I just feel like we know him now.

You know, we played games together.

We watched him eat nuts.

I miss his laugh.

This is ridiculous.

But I also newly feel some concern for Steve's well-being.

Damn you, Max.

Well, let's go get him. We'll fan out,

super-speed, we'll find his car.

He can't have gotten too far yet.

Yeah, I think he's crying on our stoop.

Steve?

I just need a couple minutes.

All right. We'll down some Steve,

and then find out why Steve's down.

-Yeah. -Yeah.

-Hey, Liz. Can I come in? -Mm. Yes.

Sure, Phyllis.

I want to apologize.

I'm sorry for lashing out.

It's not an excuse,

but I am recovering from the bubonic plague,

and the meds make me a little edgy.

I'm sorry, too.

I shouldn't have said those things.

It's just, that painting is quite valuable.

I get it. Valuable to you.

Like the giraffe painting is to me.

Right.

When I first moved in with Jesse and you guys,

it felt like I was moving into your house.

And I didn't want to step on your toes.

And I know it can be hard when another mama giraffe

joins the herd.

There can be conflict.

W-What is... what is that?

It's a giraffe sound. I looked it up.

They actually don't have vocal cords

but occasionally emit low humming sounds.

-Okay. -Anyway, I hoped eventually

your house would become our house.

But it never really did,

which kind of makes me sad.

Hmm.

Again, they only make the one sound,

so it sort of has to encompass a range of emotion.

Got it. Look,

I just think we have very different taste.

But you're right, Phyllis.

I guess I never really thought about things

from your perspective.

This is our house.

And going forward, I promise to be more mindful of that.

Aww, that's sweet.

But talk is cheap.

-What? -I want three funny mugs in the kitchen,

two sassy pillows in the living room,

and my gnomes are going on that mantel.

The gnomes? Really?

Gnome sweet gnome, baby.

And if not, I turn the whole house against you.

Jesse's got a lot of framed hockey jerseys

stowed away in that basement.

And I think I heard Max say something

about his collection of jazz posters.

Stop. Stop.

Okay, we can do the Christmas gnomes.

Oh, sweetie.

They're not seasonal. Those babies are year-round.

I got to say, Phyllis, I'm a little impressed.

I didn't know you had this in you.

Well, I'm a really big dill.

Did you say "dill"?

It'll make more sense when you see your new living room.

So, where did you go, Steve?

Tell us what happened.

The story begins a long time ago.

When I was a boy, I watched that movie Rudy,

about an undersized kid with a big dream

to walk on to the Notre Dame football team.

Ah, that's a great movie.

You know, I actually prefer Hoosiers,

if we're comparing Indiana-based sport films.

But you can read more about that on my Letterboxd.

Sorry, go on.

I had a dream, just like Rudy.

But then, years passed, and I forgot about my dream.

Until game night at my 50th birthday party.

So, what was it, bro?

I mean, what was the dream?

To walk on to the Notre Dame football team.

I said it was just like Rudy.

Are you guys even listening?

Oh, so you weren't just inspired by Rudy,

you literally copied his dream.

Sorry, just quickly, you tried

to walk on to the Notre Dame football team

at age 50?

Don't you have to be enrolled at the school?

You sound just like the security guard.

Who was not cool and not wise

and did not take me under his wing like Charles Dutton.

And just like that, my dream was dead.

And now, here I am.

Back to being a failure.

Oh. Y-You're not a failure, Steve.

Oh, yeah? Why not?

Why not?

Why not indeed.

Because...

you...

save lives.

For instance, we have an elderly neighbor,

Mrs. Kellerman, and she would be dead

right now if it wasn't for you.

What do you mean?

Yeah. Where are you going with this, Max?

Well, I think Steve deserves to know the truth.

-Is Steve wipe-able? -I don't know,

-he's a pretty big guy. -It's based on weight?

-It seems to have some bearing. -Steve,

the reason that we buy your blood

-is because... -Oh, my God.

We are part of a secret government program.

And your blood contains a rare protein

that scientists use to synthesize

cutting-edge medical treatments.

-Really? -That's right.

You have had an immeasurable impact on the world, Steve.

I don't think it's an exaggeration to say

you've saved hundreds of American lives.

So, I'm not really

a failure, I'm...

A hero?

That's right, buddy.

Uh, and that's why

we have to keep you at a distance.

-Yep. -I mean, the less we know about you, the better.

I mean, it's for your own protection.

That makes complete sense.

-Does it? -He's buying it.

In that case, I should go.

You're welcome, America.

Will you tell them?

-Oh, yeah. We'll tell them. -Sure.

Yes!

Max, that was awesome.

Dude, did you just come up with that on the spot?

-Oh, hell yeah I did. -That's why my guy was one of 20

cocaptains of his college improv team.

Our team name was Gag Reflex, 'cause, you know,

-"gag" means joke, and... -Stop talking.

You know, I must admit,

I was glad we were able to help Steve.

This may surprise you, but I do sometimes

struggle with empathy.

I might have noticed it a little.

I think because it's so long since I was alive,

I sometimes forget what it's like

for those who still are.

And it's good to get a reminder.

Are you, are you thanking me, Charles?

I'm just saying that,

maybe, because you're so recently turned,

you have a unique perspective and...

perhaps there are things you could teach us all.

-Wow. -Well...

I really appreciate that.

I mean, helping people is the reason I'm getting

my degree as a therapist.

And to witness this kind of growth...

All right, Tolstoy, I didn't ask for a Russian novel.

Charles, good news.

I spoke with an art restorer.

The Renoir is fixable,

and I can take it over there tomorrow.

Ah, what a relief.

Charles thanked me for teaching him human stuff.

Didn't happen and you can't prove it.

There you are.

I have a surprise for you.

Okay.

-What is it? -I know how much

your painting meant to you,

so I thought maybe I could fix it.

And you know I am pretty handy with a glue gun.

Oh, Phyllis, no.

I did it myself.

And I added a little zhuzh.

What do you think, huh?

Oh...

Wow.

I hoped you'd like it.

I didn't expect you to be so moved.

But crafting can be very powerful.

Looks good.

I like the little lizard.

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