All language subtitles for The Blacklist - 08x06 - The Wellston

"Not expressly stated."

Five letters, second one is an "A."

How about "tacit"?

No wonder I haven't been able
to finish a crossword

since you moved in with Max.

How is he, by the way?

I wouldn't know. We broke up.

What? How did I not know?

- When did he move out?
- He didn't.

His parents own the place.
It's one of their rentals.

So I'm staying on the pullout
in the office.

You're sleeping

- in your family restaurant?
- Before you freak out,

it's just temporary.

Come sleep on my couch.

I'll help you binge-eat
your way past Max,

and you can help me figure out
the three-letter word

for "it has benefits."

Uh, give me a minute?

Mm-hmm.

This is Park.

Yes. Of course.

Sir, I'm sorry.

Can you hold for just one moment?

Hey, everything okay?

Landlord troubles. Story of my life.

Didn't look like landlord trouble.

J-O-B.

Three across. "It has benefits."

The answer's "job."

Go do yours.

I'll call you tonight.

Agent Park.

Why is it the really wealthy
always want to own a restaurant?

I'm sure for some it has a lot to do

with glad-handing and backslapping.

For me, it was sort of a friend in need.

Now it's a project.

We're expanding.

And this... an office.

With a stove and a walk-in.

Are you hungry?
I could make you an omelet.

- No, thank you. I ate.
- Coffee?

Cooper's tied up at Main Justice.

He said you had a case.

What do you know
about the Nuremberg trials?

Military tribunals after World War II.

Allied Forces prosecuting
Nazi leadership for war crimes.

They gave the devil his day in court

and invented simultaneous
translation to do it.

Are you giving me a case
or a history lesson?

If it weren't for the Allies' desire

to give Goering a fair trial,

the Wellstone Agency might not exist.

In fact, it doesn't exist,
not officially.

And yet its services have made thousands

of illicit business
transactions possible.

A translation service for crooks.

Crime is a global trade.

Criminals need to communicate,

and that requires
interpreters they can trust.

The Wellstone Agency provides just that.

A bunch of translators.

I believe Agent Keen recently
acquired Wellstone's services.

If we find the interpreter she used,

we may be able to find her.

Why come to us? You're a criminal.

Haven't you used this company before?

I have.

But my point person and I
recently had a falling out,

and without him, I have no way
to reach the senior leadership.

I need your help
to get inside the company.

Have you considered
simply leaving Keen alone,

taking a breath to consider
your role in all this?

Harold isn't in a meeting, is he?

No. I came here to tell you I think
what you're doing is wrong.

You're only making things worse
for Keen by pursuing her.

It's Paula. Glen's mother.

She says she needs to see you.
Says its urgent.

Agent Park, next time you feel
the urge to unburden yourself,

you can rest assured...
I've heard it all before.

It's a luxury to stand
on the moral high ground

and critique those of us
on the low ground.

A lot of people do exactly that.

Until they need my help.

I'll never ask for your help.

And yet here I am asking for yours.

The Wellstone Agency.

It's the next name on the Blacklist.

Synced & corrected by -robtor-
www.addic7ed.com

According to Reddington,

the agency'snner workings
are cloaked in secrecy.

Even their own interpreters
are kept in the dark

as to who runs the organization.

So how do they communicate?

Through dispatchers who contact
the criminal parties,

arrange payments,
and assign interpreters.

The dispatch has all the information.

The interpreters know nothing.

But Reddington's lost contact
with his dispatch,

- so what's our in?
- His interpreter.

Wellstone relies on
its interpreters for referrals.

It's how they recruit translators.

So Reddington's interpreter's
gonna refer someone we pick.

And that person
gets brought in and vetted,

giving him a window to access the system

and get the name
of the interpreter Keen used.

Maybe the name of the person
she was negotiating with

- and for what.
- Under normal circumstances,

I'd reach out to Language Analysis.

But what our interpreter learns
may compromise Keen.

So I want to keep this in-house.

Well, I only speak English.

I speak Korean.

Does sign language count?

Definitely not.

Then I'm down to six.

You speak six languages?

Well, not including Latin,

which I doubt would come in handy,

unless the criminal
I interpreted for was the Pope.

Imagine that confessional.

Park, reach out to Reddington.

Tell him Aram's going in

and to arrange a meeting
with his contact.

Ressler, start laying the
groundwork for a cover story.

As if I'm not already
asking you to do too much,

I need you to try and open this drive.

Okay. Is this about a case?

I'm not sure.

Which is why I need you
to keep this between us.

Nobody knows. Especially Reddington.

- Paula, hi.
- Steven.

I got your message.
Is everything alright?

Oh, thanks for coming.

Hello, Bill.

Oh, uh, the girls and I
were just tasting the cakes.

Come in.

Oh, would either of you
like a slice of cake?

Um, lemon, carrot, and pink champagne.

No, thank you. Maybe later.

What are we celebrating, Paula?

Maybe you boys should sit down.

Is Glen here?

Glen... transitioned.

I don't know what that means.

He died.

What? What do you mean?

From West Nile.

W... Oh, come on. Come on.

If this is one of Glen's
dreadful practical jokes...

I would have gotten in touch sooner,

but I have been so busy
with the planning and the party.

He didn't want no regular
funeral, you know.

Jelly Bean wanted his friends
to send him off

with a real shindig.

A potluck with dancing and...
And Huey, of course.

West Nile?

Paula, I am so sorry.

Oh, thank you, Bill.

When did this happen?

A bit over two weeks ago.

I know. I should've called,
but you slipped my mind.

And then Trudy and I were going through

some of their dirty letters,
and we found this.

I was halfway inclined to open it,

but you were his friend, and I
want to respect his wishes.

He didn't send me no letter.

Hey, Paula, what do you think about Luke

bringing his chicken tater bake?

I think it'd be real popular.

I can't believe this is happening.

Boys, I got to go.

There is too much to do
before Huey gets here.

But do come to the party.

Jelly'd want you there,

tomorrow at 7:00 at the DMV.

And don't forget to bring a covered dish

and your own tableware.

She was lucky to get out.

Jenna. Hey.

I came as soon as I got your text.

What happened?

Fire in the kitchen.

The smoke alarm didn't work.

The doctors are prepping
for surgery now.

But she's gonna be okay?

They...

They don't know.

Hey, talk to me.

What's going on?

Last year, we started to fall
behind at the restaurant.

The banks wouldn't touch us,

so Melissa went to a local guy for help.

You borrowed from a loan shark?

And it did help for a while.

But this month...

it's the fourth payment
we missed in six months.

This is the guy who came
to see you yesterday.

He did this to Melissa.

I knew it was dangerous not to pay,

but I didn't think they'd do this.

What's his name?

He works with other people.

They'll come for us.

That won't happen.

I promise.

Let me take care of this.

She was living there. You know that?

Melissa, the youngest daughter.

What, are you gonna arrest me? For what?

Loan-sharking. Arson. Attempted murder.

I don't know where you got
your information from,

but nobody would be stupid enough

to point the finger at me.

Is that a threat?

- Did you just threaten my witness?
- Take it easy.

Because that's sure as hell
how it sounded.

Honestly, the gall!

After all I've already done for him?

All the jobs... The attention paid.

All the time spent
suffering his... antics.

All the money...
That ridiculous sports car.

He was a civil servant, Raymond.

How could he explain all that stuff?

- The money and all.
- I understand that.

But why is it somehow my job

to help explain away
the fortune I paid him?

He had to say something.

Something, yes.

But the man told everyone he knew

that he was Huey Lewis's muse.

How in any stretch of the imagination

does that explain his crazy,
extravagant lifestyle?

What, Huey Lewis bought him
a red Mercedes?

And does Huey Lewis even have a muse?

Did Glen really tell his mother
Huey would attend?

"This friendship with Huey

has always accounted for everything...

My travels to Europe and Bangkok,

all the cash, the cars,
everything in Vegas..."

I mean, I can't even...

"even the absence of any other
long-term relationship

over the last 30 years.

Huey is, in a word, the reason."
Two words.

"Which is why his failure
to attend my memorial

would be seen as a snub so great

that I'm afraid it may send Mother

into a heartbroken tailspin

which she may never recover from."

Mm. I mean...

Talk about the power of love.

How is this possible?

It's as if he's reaching up
from the grave

to torment and abuse me one last time.

Raymond, Glen needs you.

To do what?

To bird-dog some pop star

to inform him that
his most beloved songs

were inspired by his bromance
with a clerk from the DMV?

He needs you to convince Huey
to come to his memorial.

Well, I'm not doing it.

It's his dying wish.

No, it's one of his dying wishes.

- What's the other?
- Forget it.

What does it say?

Ah. "Mother wants to place
my remains on her mantel.

I don't like the idea
of spending my days

looking down on Mother,

so I want you to abscond
with my ashes and spread them."

Spread them where?

"I want to spend eternity
at the glorious feet

of that grande dame,
the Statue of Liberty."

I don't think it's legal to
spread ashes on Liberty Island.

Well, it doesn't matter,
because I'm not doing it.

I'm not lying to Paula
or spreading his ashes...

...and I'm certainly not

hunting down Huey Lewis

or begging him to come
to Glen's potluck memorial.

- What is it?
- It's Glen's mom.

She's asking if you can
bake a tray of scotcheroos.

They're short on desserts.

Okay.

Raymond, you know we have to do this.

For Glen.

See if you can find Mr. Lewis's address.

But I'm not breaking
into the Statue of Liberty

to spread Glen's ashes.

Stealing from Wellstone
is a terrible idea,

but Reddington's made it clear
I have to vouch for you

and get you inside the company.

So let me be blunt.

I'm not your friend.

I think that this is a suicide mission.

And the only reason I'm helping you

is so that we both don't end up dead.

Okay, let me try
and say this back to you.

I take the pill. I black out.

Then I wake up in the custody
of people I don't know

for a test I might pass
in the hopes I get the job

instead of getting killed?

I told you it's a bad idea.

- Okay, if I could just get to...
- It won't work.

All I need is the name
of one client's translator.

- They have to have logs of...
- You're not listening.

These people run a criminal enterprise.

They traffic in secrets.

And to protect those secrets,
they will not hesitate

to kill you or me or anyone else
they think is a liability.

It's your funeral.

Welcome back, Mr. Stone.

Did you have a nice rest?

I, uh, don't remember getting here.

My name's Miss Jessica.

I'm here to discuss the matrix
of tests we'll administer

to see if you're
a candidate for Wellstone.

Matrix of tests?

Uh, what tests?

I'm so glad you asked.

We'll begin with a simple

polygraph-augmented consultation.

Baseline questions.
Work profile. Personal history.

Relevant experience as well
as potential conflicts.

And we'll follow that with an
aptitude test, and behavioral inquiry.

Of course, we'll want
to gauge the strength

of your language of expertise.

Dialects. Prose. As well as
vocabulary and expression.

And we'll audit that
with some mock sessions,

scripted scenarios
based on actual encounters

to test neutrality,
composure, and patience.

But before all of that,
I do want to stress

that our primary objective here
at Wellstone is privacy.

Without discretion,
we can't protect our clients,

ourselves, or you.

So, Mr. Stone, can you be discreet?

Yes, I'm Mr. Discreet.

You wanted to see me?

The arrest that you made earlier.

Mason Dieterle.

Yeah, he burned down
my friend's restaurant.

I just got off the phone with
the AUSA reviewing the case.

He told me that your friend
passed away from her injuries.

I'm sorry.

He also told me that he declined
to file charges

for either arson or attempted murder.

What? Why?

He... He burned down that diner.
This was arson.

The AUSA said he didn't have
any evidence to prove that.

Can you prove that Dieterle
was responsible for that fire?

Do you have a witness?

A print on a can of gasoline
or accelerant?

No, I just thought...

That's the problem.

You didn't think. You reacted.

Dieterle was arraigned
on a loan-sharking charge

and made bail 20 minutes ago.

I'm concerned, Alina.

You have a history
of acting on your anger,

at times letting your emotions
get the better of you.

Now your friend is dead,

and the man that you think
is responsible

is back on the street.

I need you to promise me

that you will not
do anything about that.

Do I have your word?

Yes.

You do.

Mr. Lewis, I just want to say
it's a privilege.

I mean, great pleasure to meet you.

Well, I appreciate that.
Thank you very much.

Thank you for agreeing to see me.

I take it you're something
of a culinary man.

I love to cook.

Uh, to be honest, Mr. Homan...

Steve, please.

Okay, to be honest, Steve,

I only agreed
because my manager insisted.

Ah, I did Jerry a favor once.

Well, a friend of Jerry's.

Must've been, uh, quite a favor.

Uh, can I get you something,
like coffee or...

Oh, no, no, no, no.
Thank you, thank you.

I don't want to take up any more
of your time than necessary.

Mm-hmm.

I'm here because a dear friend of mine

passed away recently.

- Pillar of his community.
- Mm-hmm.

Loved his mother, Paula.

- Wonderful, wonderful woman.
- Mm-hmm.

And he...

Well, he absolutely
cherished your music.

- He knew every word of every song.
- Oh.

Really.

Now, I realize it's a bit
of a long shot,

but I was wondering
if you might consider...

For a price, of course...

Might consider attending
his memorial service

at the Rockville, Maryland, DMV.

It's tonight, 7:00 p.m.

The DMV?

Yes, Glen was regional manager.

Did, um... Did Jerry know

that this is what you wanted to ask me?

As I said, uh, I sort of
did him a favor once.

To play the funeral of some guy
at the DMV?

Regional manager.

You do know that Quincy Jones

asked me to sing on "We Are the World."

Ah, uh, a stirring performance.

And a great honor and... And tribute.

Love of your fellow man and all that.

Not entirely unlike the love
a son might have for his mother.

A desire to make her proud.

- To impress her.
- Mm-hmm.

Things were said through the years.

I think he...

He told his mother he inspired you

to record "Workin' for a Livin'"

after a rousing game of beer pong

in the back of a bar in Teaneck.

- And she believed him?
- Believed him?

Oh, no, no.

To her, it would make perfect sense

that her son was singularly responsible

for your legendary song.

And that you, who benefited
from her son's inspiration,

would want more than anything to show up

at his memorial service
to pay your respects.

Okay.

Is... Is this a joke?

Did... Did Ralphie put you up to this?

I am so sorry.

I mean it. You can name your price.

To play the Rockville DMV?

Oh, no, no, no. You don't have to play.

Just show up. Say a few words.

Plus, if you do, I'll owe you a favor.

I'm a good person to have in your debt.

So you'll do whatever I ask?

Absolutely.

Great.

Then I'm gonna ask you to please leave

because I got an interview
across town in an hour,

and I got to eat and get ready,
and I don't want to be late.

Sorry. You have to go.

Thank you, Mr. Stone.

Miss Jessica will be
with you momentarily.

Okay.

Yes.

This is certainly unexpected.

That is what I thought.

- What happened to being discreet?
- Excuse me?

I was waiting for you
when I spilled my soda.

Then I came to your desk for a tissue

when I found this on your computer.

- Is this how this works?
- I don't follow.

All of you people are putting me
through a matrix of tests

to find out if you can trust me,

and yet you carelessly
leave this client profile

open on your laptop.

What if I were an FBI agent undercover

and saw the profile of this guy, this...

Alexander Frayne?

This is sloppy. I don't like it.

- Perhaps my assistant...
- It doesn't matter.

This is lazy. It's unprofessional.

I'm sorry that this has shaken

your confidence in us, Mr. Stone.

I do hope you'll reconsider.

- Reconsider?
- The job.

You passed with flying colors.

If you'll have us, we'd like
to welcome you to Wellstone.

Harold, please give me good news.

Agent Motjabai got a name.

Liz's interpreter was Alexander Frayne.

Uh, he works in DC for
the UN Human Rights Council.

We've notified MPD.
Units are en route to him now.

This is Alexander.

Mr. Frayne, you have a problem.

I got lots of them. Who is this?

Someone who can offer you a way out.

The FBI knows you moonlight
for the Wellstone Agency,

and the MPD are on their way
to arrest you.

They're here. How did you know?

Make your way to Dupont Circle.

You're looking for a black Mercedes.

Northwest corner of Connecticut Avenue.

Hello, Mr. Frayne.

Who are you?

Why are you helping me?

Quid pro quo, Alexander.

You interpreted a meeting

between this woman and another party.

I need to know who she met
and what they talked about.

I can't help you.

Let me rephrase.

N-No, no. I... Wait, I'm...

I'm not saying I won't help.

I'm saying I can't.
I don't know who he was.

You facilitated their conversation.

He was Bosnian.

But they don't give out names.

Uh, she paid 700 grand
for a manilla envelope.

I never saw what was inside.

Who has the names?

The head of the company, I guess?

I don't even know who that is.

But if you send the right
message, he'll get it.

Your contact at Wellstone.

Call them. Say you have a situation.

Let them know Raymond Reddington
wants to help.

_

Jenna, nothing's gonna happen to you.

I promised you'd be okay.

I said I'd take care of it, and I will.

I just came to talk.

You sent men to Jenna's apartment?

You didn't have to do that.

I told you I just wanted to talk.

Hey.

It's Agent Park.

Something's happened.

I need your help.

Hello?

What the hell did you do?

- Jorgensen?
- They know. About us.

The company knows there's a mole.

Uh, what, uh...
What are you talking about?

They think the FBI is onto them.

I told you that this was a mistake.

And now I got a target
on my back because of you.

I got to call you back.

Is, uh, something wrong?

I need you to come with me.

The Colonel would like to see you.

Reddington. I told him we were
going to pick up Frayne,

and now Frayne's gone because
Reddington got there first.

But we sent agents.

Wellstone knows someone outed Frayne.

- Aram.
- I already called him.

He's not picking up.

Ah, finally.

Oh.

Uh, hello.

The Colonel here
lost his hearing as a child.

Nasty case of meningitis.

Colonel? Uh, the man who runs,
uh, Wellstone is deaf?

Indeed. The head of a company
that provides translation

needs a translator to be understood.

In this case, you. So please sit.

♪ How long?

"You prevented the arrest
of one of my translators.

You had him inform his contact that...

there is a problem in the
company that you could solve."

Yes, you have a mole.

Tell him he has a leak
that puts us both at risk.

"No. Impossible."

It's why Mr. Frayne was nearly pinched

and why the FBI knew where to find him.

"There is no leak."

Uh, there is a mole,

and he works for the FBI.

He led them to Frayne, which
means he can lead them to you.

Now, you can be stubborn about it

and wait around for the feds to show up,

or you can do exactly as I say
and live happily ever after.

"Do you know who the mole is?"

Yes. He's a federal agent

working undercover as an interpreter.

"What do you want me to do?"

First, delete my file.

Now. Before the feds arrive.

Second, in exchange
for giving you a way out,

a new identity, I want a name.

Last week, a woman using
the name Carolyn Givens

hired Wellstone.

I want to know who she met with.

I can read.

"Wait.

The mole. I need his name."

Why? It's over. He won.

Killing him won't change the fact

that you need to come with me now.

"I need to know a name.

If you don't give me one, I'll kill him.

Either because he's the mole

or to set an example of what
happens when you betray me."

Normally, I'm a big believer
in example setting,

but I specifically requested
your newest interpreter

because the leaks predate
his employment at Wellstone.

He's not the mole.

And we need to go.

Now.

Okay, what do you mean
he recorded the conversation?

Evidently, Reddington
was wearing a wire...

One we'll tell the Justice Department

that you were wearing.

You think we can make a case?

I do.

A lot of Wellstone employees
and clients are going to prison.

But not the owner.

Mr. Reddington promised the Colonel

that he'd help him escape
in exchange for the name

of the person that Liz met with.

You didn't see that person's name?

Mr. Reddington made sure I didn't.

Adin Markovic.
He's a Bosnian bounty hunter.

Evidently, Keen used Wellstone
to hire him.

Mr. Reddington told you the name? Why?

Because we're on the same team.

And because he knows
we have to work together

if we have any hope
of bringing Keen home safely.

Adin Markovic, this bounty hunter,

we'll see what we can find on him.

Agent Park.

I spoke with the AUSA.

There's been a development in the case

involving your friend's death.

It appears Dieterle is missing.

Will you help?

Alina, you promised me

you wouldn't do anything to Dieterle.

I need to know.

Did you break that promise?

No, sir.

Mr. Cooper.

Mr. Cooper, um,

about, uh, this drive
you wanted me to decrypt.

Uh, I can't.

I reached out to a friend at the NSA.

- Do you trust him?
- I do.

Good. Because if he
tells anyone about this,

his life could be in jeopardy.

Keep me posted.

Yes, sir.

Raymond, you have to tell Paula
he's not coming.

Ohh.

He gets her hopes up, and I have
to be the one to dash them.

Glen at his finest.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

You came!

I brought the scotcher...

Hello.

Oh. You must be Paula.

Oh, Glen has told me so much
about you, but, oh, my gosh,

you're even more beautiful
than he described.

Oh!

Glen, he was one of the good ones.

One of the unusual ones,
for sure, but...

But, you know, that guy
could always brighten my day.

You know, I remember when we
were recording our third album,

Johnny had written
this great progression

and he had a little bit of a melody,

and it was up to me
to come up with the lyric,

and I couldn't do it.

I tried and tried, and I was stuck.

I just couldn't come up with anything,

and I remember Glen came over

and we went out
for chili dogs, of course.

A-A-And I just broke down
about this song.

And I-I-I told him, you know,
"I don't know what to do.

This is super important.

If we don't have a hit with this album,

the label's gonna drop us,"

and Glen put his hand on my arm

and looked me dead in the eye,
and he said,

"Hey, if this is it, this is it."

And, boom, there it was.

I mean, that lyric and that song.

I mean, this is what Glen did.

He, you know... He... He w...
He was like a muse to me,

and I loved him.

But he wouldn't want us
bawling all over the place.

He'd want us to have a good time.

Like Glen used to say, "We're
not here for a long time.

We're here for a good time," so...

Raise a glass...

or a chicken wing...
or whatever you got,

'cause tonight we celebrate my muse.

Tonight, we celebrate Jelly Bean
and his big, old heart.

♪ There's a party down on the corner ♪

♪ Do you wanna go? ♪

♪ They got rhythm, a little blues ♪

♪ And a whole lot of soul ♪

♪ I don't care what you've got to say ♪

♪ You're comin' with me anyway ♪

♪ We're not here for a long time ♪

- What are you doing?
- Oh, my goodness.

I can't believe you came.

Thank you, thank you, Mr. Lewis.

- Didn't hurt a bit.
- What happened?

What changed your mind?

You did.

Mr. Reddington.

- You spoke to Jerry.
- Yeah.

And I got to know 'cause
I can't get my head around it.

Why in the world is Raymond Reddington

running errands for a DMV desk clerk?

Regional manager.

Yeah, but why is this guy so special

that the world's most wanted fugitive

is arranging his memorial service?

People often hide from me.

Glen was good at finding them.

I-I didn't ask you what he did.

I asked what made him special.

That's a bit more complicated.

Ah, I'm sure it is.

I'm sure it's incredibly complicated.

And weird and strange.

- But I like weird and strange.
- Ah.

You said I could ask for
any favor... that's the favor.

You want me to tell you about
how weird and strange Glen was.

I want to hear your eulogy.

I want Raymond Reddington to tell me

what was weird and strange and beautiful

about the regional manager
of the Rockville DMV.

You know who I am.

You know I can do some very big favors.

Oh, trust me, I thought about asking you

to scare the bejesus out of
my pal Bruce Hornsby.

That'd be good.

Uh, but the truth is,
you can't do a bigger favor

than revealing
somebody's heart and soul.

No, I don't suppose you can.

Yeah, I did my part.

I gave my eulogy,

and in exchange,
I'd like to hear your version.

Mr. Lewis, big fan.

Thanks.

What... What is that?

The remains of a Great Dane.

We're friends with a vet.

He works at a shelter
where they cremate pets

who have to be put down.

But I told you I wasn't
gonna steal his ashes.

And I know you well enough to know that,

in the end, you probably would.

I-I-I'm sorry, but, uh, what's going on

with all the beans
and the baggies and the ashes?

I'll explain everything on the way.

♪ Have yourself a good time ♪

Okay.

Here we are.

- Glen.
- Right.

Glen.

Glen was...

...so many different things.

A son.

Civil servant.

A proud member of
the Spare Me bowling team.

Two-time runner-up at the
Southern Regional Tournament.

And a great... A truly great tracker.

But he was...

Ah, brother.

He was a lot more than that.

Glen was...

infuriating.

Insulting.

Just so maddening.

He was a hedonist, a chauvinist,
a liar, and a cheat,

but there was one thing Glen was not.

And that's afraid.

Glen was not afraid.

He wasn't afraid of judgment.

Of being wrong.

He wasn't afraid of friendship.

Or romance.

A bad joke.

A good laugh.

He was never afraid of a good time.

Or bad timing.

Or consequences.

Or of an impossible task.

Or any kind of danger.

And he certainly wasn't afraid of me.

Ever.

No matter how hard
or unfair life was to Glen...

Glen loved life back.

He embraced it without
reservation, regret, or remorse.

And that is...

...rare.

I wish...

I wish more people were unafraid
like Glen.

It's the thing about him
I'll miss the most.

And I hope it'll be some time before...

...all my memories of him...

...start to fade.