All language subtitles for american.gods.s03e10.1080p.web.h264-glhf

You want to kill Wednesday.

We want to help you do that.

Then sign me the fuck up.

Godspeed.

Do you really have
to kill this dude?

Yes, I do.

Take the coin
and you can't miss.

Do you know what this song
is? It's like, "Ba-ba, ba-ba".

I wonder if you can help me

about something called.

Artifact Number 1.

My grandfather had a hen.

Always laid eggs with two yolks.

Not one. Not three.

Two.

Every other day,
there they were.

Two perfect yolks.

We named that hen Deuce.

Paw-Paw won him in a card game.

You ate two of those
eggs in the morning,

you could go all day
without another morsel.

I'm grateful for
our time together,

short as it was.

Don't you worry
yourself about me.

I'm past the caring.

My time on this earth is done.

And you have work to do.

Shadow Moon.

He's strong.

But I still fret about him.

This damn icebox is
working my last nerve!

Let me help you.

Help is what Shadow needs

to steer him in
the right direction.

He's a special one, all right.

Trouble is, he knows it now.

But that ain't your never-mind.

What you need to
do is find The Other.

His soul mate.

Convince him he
ain't no solo act.

Yes, indeed.

That tall order falls to you.

In 1918,

the Coast Geodetic Survey,

using a cardboard
cut-out balanced on a pin,

determined the geographic
center of America to be

2.6 miles north of
Lebanon, Kansas,

on Johnny Grib's hog farm.

Johnny Grib didn't share
his neighbors' eagerness

to cash in on his sudden fame,

so they erected a
monument a half mile away.

They also built a
motel for the tourists

who were sure to visit
the center of America.

Only, the tourists didn't come.

Nobody did.

Because we are
standing at ground zero

of the least sacred
place in America.

If the House on the Rock

is a place of spiritual power,

this, is a soulless void.

A wasteland Gods
fear and men avoid.

The perfect spot to
conduct diplomacy

between enemies of
the divine persuasion.

Faithful to the last.

They always stay
close to their master.

They're with me now.

So if this is a DMZ where
nothing violent goes down,

why didn't Wednesday just
have his peace talks here?

I mean, he'd be alive,

and we wouldn't be
in dirt-road Kansas.

The thought of being
powerless was no doubt

unappealing to your father.

And neither was he constrained

by logic or reason.

Thank God you're here.

Hey.

It was like a bad dream.

Wednesday told the creepy guy

with the hat to go fuck himself.

We were just
walking out to the car

when some 5-foot rage bitch

with some ancient
spear steps out

and straight
harpoons the old man.

Laura?

You know her?

It's my ex-wife.

When were you
planning on telling me?

One shock at a time.

Who the fuck are you?

You don't recognize the
instrument of your survival?

Mr. World?

From time to time, I,

see the reflection
in the mirror and.

I need change.

Okay.

Well, you can put lipstick
on a weasel, but it is what it is.

Why did you bring
me to this shitbox

full of Gods who want me dead?

And what about Doyle?
Can you find him?

Your collaborator is outside
of the scope of our agreement.

We brought you here for
your protection and safety,

as agreed, because no
god can harm you here.

But... you must be patient.

We will return
Wednesday's remains

at midnight to his associates

and arrange for your
safety of passage.

Okay. Well, I'm gonna want
to weigh in on the particulars.

No, you can't be there.

If there was any
thought of collusion

between you and
us from the Old Gods,

it could ignite a war.

Y-you don't think they're
gonna figure that out

with me being in your custody?

We-we'll tell them
that we tortured you,

and when you didn't talk,

we understood that you
were not an agent provocateur.

We guaranteed your
safety of passage.

And you think they're
actually gonna agree to that?

What other choice do they have?

You said that no one
can harm me here?

Great.

'Cause this room smells like ass

so I'm gonna go find a
fuckin' candy machine.

One more thing.

Shadow Moon's here,
and it's not entirely clear

that he's under the same
prohibition as the others.

Stay here.

I want my fuckin' tennis ball!

Well, you fellas have
our last two rooms.

The last time the
motel was full was...

Never?

Some government men are
here for an important meeting.

Cletus, our dishwasher,

thinks they might
be... the Illuminati.

Rented the whole east wing

and the dining room.

No, no, no, no. No.

Not until midnight.

It's our tradition.

Out of my way.

Hey.

He wanted an old
Norse death ritual.

And we wanna honor
his request, right?

It's called respect.

And that is something

that he won't get
from our enemies.

Don't you understand?

They don't wanna honor
him; They wanna shame us.

Well, I'm supposed
to sit vigil for him so...

You're supposed to do what?

It's part of our arrangement.

Sir?

Thanks.

What?

Read the sign.

I'm sorry.

Do you mind?

Thank you.

Wow.

I believe our
rooms are this way.

Hey. Can you believe this idiot

thinks that he will sit
the vaka for Votan?

Vigil for a Norse God requires

being bound upon Yggdrasil,

the World Tree,
as Odin once did.

Okay.

For 9 days and 9 nights.

An endurance test for a God,

a death sentence for a mortal.

Yeah.

Well, Wednesday said
that if I walk with him,

greatness would be mine.

Maybe this is what he meant.

Shadow.

Shadow.

Shadow Moon.

- Come with us.
- We need you, Shadow.

- Come along.
- Shadow.

He requested extra towels.

He could be a bastard,
but he was a good boss.

He was a selfish dick.

He might have believed
his intentions were noble,

but he never did anything that
wasn't in his own self-interest.

But... he did care
for you, though.

It's not a side most
people get to see.

He cared about
you too, you know.

Showed it by murdering my wife?

That puta with the spear?

She seemed pretty
goddamn alive to me.

Yeah.

She's the stubborn type.

And my associates

would be remiss if we
did not acknowledge,

with respect, the foundations

laid by the Old Gods.

Get to the fuckin' point.

What do you want from us?

We are gathered
here in this place

of godlessness

to deliver this body

to eternity in
accordance with...

Norse ritual.

In return, we just want peace.

We do not want

this unfortunate death

to ignite violence or war.

Then give us the
murderous cow who did this.

The malefactor,

Laura Moon,

is a mortal acting

on a personal
vendetta against a God!

We know this cannot stand!

We are in agreement!

But we have vowed

to abide by Norse
custom wherein,

if my memory
serves me correctly,

it is the duty of the son

to avenge the father's death.

It is true.

If ancient protocols
are to be observed,

it is you who would have to
avenge Wednesday's murder.

Yeah, he means you
have to bash her head in

until brain dribble
through her eyes.

All right.

Give her to me.

Where is the cow?

Shit.

Where is the cow?

Where the hell is she?

Where the hell is she?

Three lifetimes;
I'm still trusting

the wrong fucking people.

This motherfucker is
just as guilty as I am.

He recruited me in
order to kill Wednesday

without starting a war.

Well, what else would
you expect her to say?

Fuck off. How
could I get the spear

from Sweeney's hoard
without a God's help?

How could I possibly know
the exact time and place

to find Wednesday
if he didn't tell me?

- She's telling the truth.
- Yeah.

You talk of peace?

Respect?

While you hide behind
a mortal female?

You mudák.

Remember where we are.

I'll take care of this.

Let us bury our dead,

mourn our losses,
and discuss our options.

Aye.

Aye.

Believe what you will.

But peace is to the benefit

of your side, not ours.

Think about it.

By the time that you
would gather your armies,

SHARD will be in completion,

and the Old Gods
will be de-indexed,

erased,

and forgotten.

Once we deliver Wednesday's
remains to the Tree,

I strongly suggest
you move past this.

Get on with your life.

And do not look back.

Noted.

Hey, listen.

Since we can't do it here,

there's a field just in the
back, across the street.

It's a good place to die.

Now, hit straight
on the forehead

for a quick and clean.

If you hit the neck, it
will be slow and painful.

I recommend the neck.

I'll wait in the car.

The fuckin' smell on that guy.

Bad tuna on a smoke break.

Listen.

I didn't do this for
purely selfish reasons.

Bullshit.

Okay, fine.

But, Shadow, you're free now.

No more of his
compacts or schemes

or war-fuckin' murder.

Okay, you can go after
what you've always wanted

A white picket fence,

wifey giving you a couple kids

instead of blowing your friends.

I...

Don't you fuckin' dare

tell me that you killed
him to make my life better.

You have no idea
who I am, what I want.

I know that you
don't owe him shit.

What did he ever do for you

except make your
life fuckin' miserable?

He gave me a purpose.

To be a better leader
than he ever could've been.

A leader?

Of what?

Change.

Before humanity
goes down the tubes.

Okay.

So...

Are you saying that
you're a God now?

I'm sayin' I have a destiny.

And I need to follow it
wherever it takes me.

Cool.

Cool, so you've lost
your fuckin' mind.

Right.

Just kill me now because
you finally have a chance

to unfuck your life,
and what do you do?

You drink Wednesday's Kool-Aid?

He says, "All aboard,"

you jump on the
fuckin' crazy train?

Just put me out of my misery
so I don't have to watch.

Fine.

Hey, where are you going?

What, y-you don't believe

I'm capable of
doing great things,

so, you know what?
This-here's your life.

Okay? Miserable, lonely.

Enjoy.

You didn't corner
the fuckin' market

on destiny, you know?

I have been through
nine gates of hell

since I saw you last.

And I have gained
a little insight too.

Good luck with that.

Congratulations!

You're officially on the way
to becoming your old man!

- Let's go.
- What, you're leaving her?

You're not gonna finish the job?

I am Wednesday's
last living son,

so what happens to his assassin

is my prerogative.

Yeah?

Well, he can see you right now

and your disrespect.

Shame on you.

I'm sitting vigil for
the old motherfucker.

Let's go.

This fuckin' place.

Thank Gods I found you.

Who the fuck's this?

The Norns.

They tend to the World
Tree and Urd's Well,

whose water nourishes said tree.

We've been waiting for you,

Shadow Moon, son of Odin.

We must prepare.

Please tell me there's
not a gimp involved.

I don't want to
stipulate to that.

This is my first vigil.

If you're not man enough

to execute your
father's murderer,

you don't deserve
to sit at his vaka.

Wasn't your call.

Well, you better hope to
die because if you don't,

I'll take care of it.

The water of time will
wash away your past

and prepare you for your future.

You know about
this stuff, right?

Am I making the right decision?

Have you changed your mind?

No.

Are you trying to
consume raw data?

That is so messed up.

What's in the sub-basement?

Artifact 1?

There is no sub-basement
in this building.

I just wanna help you.

I know that you are lying.

Yeah.

You think if I could hack
my way out of that thing,

I wouldn't know
how to reprogram it?

Well, I've done my part
for your vaka, Votan.

It's not the burial you
deserve, but it is something.

You, you could have
just walked away,

but you choose the
suffering of a fool's death.

You understand
there is no turning back

once you're on the tree.

I get the rules, Ibis.

Hey.

What does it matter if
you break your promise

to the old man?

He's dead.

I don't really have a choice.

I-I survive this, I
become something more.

Or I stay and Czernobog
hammers me in the face.

Or we find a way out.

We can do like, a... a
number 38 or 41 or 50.

I don't know. Just...

Just don't get on
the tree, fuck's sake.

You have nothing to prove.

I'll see you in nine days.

Don't fight it.

It makes the pain worse.

All this... for a fucking rock?

Is it everything you
hoped it would be?

Yeah.

You!

Yeah.

What the fuck is this thing?

That's your totem.

You have no idea how
vital you are to everything.

You are perhaps the
most powerful of us all.

The embodiment

of human innovation,

which makes you the bridge

from the Old Gods to the New.

Why don't I know any of that?

Every time there's an
evolution in human technology,

you evolve along with it,

and forget who you really are.

Being that you never have
your mnemonic of your totem,

you forget your origin.

SHARD is... progress.

There is no
progress without you.

What the fuck?

Who are you?

People say this

is the age of technology.

They're wrong.

This is the age of manipulation.

Trickery is what I do best.

Who the fuck are you?

Who the fuck are you?

Who the fuck are you?

Come on.

It's easy. Come on.

There's a trick to it.

You should do it before you die.

You do it or you die.

When you cannot see your way,

the night sky will guide you.

We've been awaiting
your arrival, Shadow.

This the destiny you
were talkin' about?

Take it from me, Puppy.

You're dying.

I can do this.

I can do this.

Water...

Water.

Okay. Enough.

Enough.

Cashew?

No?

I love 'em.

Native to Brazil, but grow
like motherfuckers in Florida.

He was also a liar,

a cheat, and a con man,

capable of deception
and great cruelty.

You, you might
want to buckle up?

Could get a little bumpy.

And they've got
these cover-your-ass

seatbelt signs lit up

so you can't sue 'em.

Not that dead men
can sue anyway.

Please tell me death

isn't being on a plane with you.

Well, technically, we are
somewhere in between.

No.

No, no, no, no.
This isn't happening.

Something that was planned
even before you were born.

A blood sacrifice by a son?

Wow, that's powerful enough

to restore me to
all my former glory.

Odin, the All-Father.
All powerful, once again.

Attention passenger Moon

What did Wednesday
ever do for you

except make your life miserable?

Now, earning your love proved

a little trickier
than I anticipated,

so I appealed to
your godly ambition.

If I'm your son, I am a God.

Jury's still out on that, son,

but you're definitely a
chip off the old block.

No, no, no.

We both crave power.

The only difference is,
I'm not ashamed of it.

You needed a martyr.

Now you're getting it?

This

is where I get off.

- Thank you, son.
- Wednesday!

Wednesday!

Father.

Is he...

Yes.

Is this the death

of the Old Gods?

Or something much worse.