All language subtitles for The.Great.and.Terrible.Day.of.the.Lord.2021.720p.WEBRip.800MB.x264-GalaxyRG

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So tell me your
deepest, darkest secret.

Pass.

Come on, pass?

I want to know.

I don't
want you to know.

Come on, let's take these in.

Wow.

It's bigger than I expected.

Yeah, I used to love
coming here as a kid.

Which way's our room?

I want to unpack before
we do anything else.

You trust me, right?

Yeah, of course.

Then tell me.

No, thank you.

I assume the master
bedroom is upstairs?

Yeah.

Not gonna happen, big guy.

I'll tell you mine
if you tell me yours.

Final offer.

I don't want to know yours.

I want us to like each other.

Hey, I
believe as of Monday,

we now love each other.

Mhmm, and I want
to keep it that way.

I just figured that if
we're ready to go away

for a weekend together,

that we're ready
to tell each other

these kinds of things, huh?

Oh yeah, is that
what you just figured?

It makes sense to me.

I'm sure it does.

So let's do it.

Let's do it, let's get heavy.

I don't want to
get heavy, Michael.

I want to nest.

This is my favorite
part about going away.

It is?

Mhmm, getting cozy
somewhere unfamiliar.

What's your favorite part?

The going away.

Come on, let's take a break.

Oh, let's have a drink.

We just drove like six hours.

Can I get a
20 minute raincheck?

No, you may not.

House rules, actually.

First, a tour, then a drink.

Then the chores.

House rules?

10 minutes, then you
can show me around.

No can do.

You are already on the tour.

First stop, the master bedroom

where I hope to make a
considerable impression.

Oh, I see, you brought
me up here to seduce me.

It's also a house rule

to get seduced
during your stay, so.

Well I bet that made the
family trips pretty awkward.

It did.

Back here behind you
is the back patio.

This is the upper balcony.

The view is killer.

Staircase connects these
patios on each floor.

Back through here

is the most luxurious
bathroom in the world

for all your nose powdering
needs and whatnot.

Through here are
some spare bedrooms.

Bathroom at the end of the hall.

Can't
get over the decor.

Yeah, grandparents
have good taste.

Ooh, I'd say.

Ah, help yourself.

There's a fireplace,
sitting area.

This is where the
kids always played

while the adults got drunk.

And here is another back patio.

I used to love sitting out
here and looking at deer

and stuff.

Thanks.

Oh, and here is
where I will showcase

my second most
memorable skillset.

You better.

You better. I did not come
all this way for TV dinners.

Don't worry, we're
feasting this weekend.

Oh, hang on.

Through here are

just some extra
bedrooms.

It's where the
kids always stayed.

Yeah, you know,
I think that this

is the most exciting
part of the tour so far.

Well, it's where the magic
happens, so.

Okay.

Down here is the den.

It's got an entertainment
center, which is pretty cool

but there's no cable
or internet up here.

So we're kind of stuck with my
grandparents' DVD collection.

Hope you don't mind.

And this is a bathroom.

And this is the last bedroom.

I used to come hide in here
whenever I wanted to be alone.

Never worked though.

That's a back patio
on the ground floor

and that's pretty much it.

I'm so jealous you
got to come here as a kid.

You should be.

I mean, it was awesome.

Well, there is
actually one perk from me

that you never had
on any of your trips.

And what is that?

The world's most amazing
and handsome tour guide.

Ooh, now who's
seducing who, huh?

I'm just calling
it how I see it.

Love?

Love.

Oh, there's one more thing

that I've not told
you about this room.

What's that?

This is the place
where you tell me

your deepest, darkest secret.

Hey.

We were having a nice moment.

We still are.

Nope.

Not having this conversation.

I just want to enjoy
each other's company

and be in love.

Isn't telling each other
these kinds of things

a part of being in love?

Okay, this isn't
like when you asked me

my most embarrassing moments.

That I could handle.

Oh, you can handle this.

Come on.

I believe in you.

Yeah, well, it's
not fun stuff.

I want to know
everything about you.

Not just some fun stuff.

Another time?

You love me, right?

Very much.

And you trust me?

Yeah.

Then what's the hold up?

I don't want to.

Okay?

Look, things are
going well here.

I don't need to give you reasons

to rethink this half a
day's drive from home.

Oh my God.

Is what we have so
superficial that you think

you can tear it up just
with one little story?

Probably not.

Then let's do it.

Come on, let's get heavy.

Let's get vulnerable.

Vulnerable?

Yeah.

Okay, fine.

If it means that much to you.

Okay, awesome.

So our last stop on the tour

is Gabby's memories.

Oh wait, what's yours?

You said that you would
tell me yours first.

But I said that
like 20 minutes ago.

So it's not really
that big of a-

- You said, so

I'm cashing in on that
offer fair and square.

Okay.

But you have to promise me

that you're going
to tell me after.

Okay.

So when I was in college,

I was in this play, right?

I played a soldier.

The costume was legit.

And so in between
semesters, I had to fly home

and I got the bright idea

to wear my costume
to the airport.

I never thought it would work.

It did work.

And not only for
getting onto the plane,

but once I was on there,

a lady got up and
offered me her seat.

And that is still the only time
I've ever flown first class.

It's not that bad.

Of course it is.

You can't impersonate the
military in real life.

It's like a crime or something.

I mean, I wouldn't put that
on your resume or anything.

But if that is your
deepest, darkest secret,

you're pretty clean, dude.

Yeah, I can't tell you mine now.

It's a way worse.

Nuh uh, you promised.

You can't prove that
in a court of law.

Hey, I trusted you.

Okay.

So do you remember
how I told you

my mom had died unexpectedly
a few years back?

Sure.

Well, it wasn't
that unexpected.

Oh my God, you
killed your mom.

That is way worse than my story.

- You're right.
- No, you goof.

But I knew she was dying.

Well, she told me she was,
but I didn't believe her.

She was a drinker since
way before I was born.

I'm sure you can
fill in the blanks

of what that was like.

So I left home as
soon as possible,

moved across the country,

tried my best not
to have any contact,

but every once in a
while she would call me

with some melodramatic problem
that could only be fixed

by me agreeing to see her.

This one time she called
and said it was cancer.

She wanted to apologize
to me in person,

leave the earth on a high note.

Always bullshit.

Always.

But this time...

Anyways, I told her to
stop calling me as usual.

And a month later I get a
phone call from my sister

with funeral dates.

You couldn't have known.

Well, I shouldn't
have taken the chance.

It's a big step up from
killing her though, right?

Hey, will you take
me to one last spot

before we conclude the tour?

Yeah, where's that?

Whatever the best spot is
in this place to get stoned.

I'm glad you
let me twist your arm.

I'm not like a total
square or anything.

I just haven't
smoked since college.

You know, I'm not
like as stoner, right?

I just thought this would be fun

to do together this weekend.

And you were right.

I was right.

This will be a
weekend to remember.

I could feel it.

I hope so.

You feel significant.

This feels significant.

That is just the weed.

All I know is that
you make me feel things

I didn't know people
actually felt.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Oh my god.

This is unparalleled.

You're the sweetest man.

You are overwhelming.

Look at me.

I am looking at you.

No, I mean, look at me.

I want us to see each other,
really see each other.

Okay.

No, no, no, don't
stop looking at me.

I love you.

I love you too.

Then keep on looking at me.

Do you trust me?

Yeah, of course.

Not of course,
it's dismissive.

Soul to soul, do you trust me?

I mean you haven't given
me any reason not to.

I'm not asking about
giving you a reason not to.

I'm asking if you trust
me, different question.

Don't stop looking at me.

I'm looking at you.

No no no, deeper, look deeper.

Do you trust me?

Michael.

No, no don't
overcomplicate it.

Soul to soul, look at me.

Do you trust me?

Yes.

Completely?

Yes, completely.

Good.

I just want to know what's
going on in that head of yours.

That's not being in the moment,
that's being in your head.

I need you here with me.

Okay? This is important.

I love you.

Oh God, you are not proposing.

No, don't
worry about that now,

just look at me in the eyes.

Let's go back to dancing.

This is a kind of dance.

You're cute.

I like the dancing we
were doing before better.

Here.

There, happy now?

This is important to me.

Don't wonder about why,

or what we were doing
or what I might do.

There's only right now, okay?

I'm so confused.

That's okay, because you
love me and you trust me

and you won't stop
looking at me.

This as a little intense.

I know, but it has to happen.

What has to happen?

I don't know.

I dunno, it's hard to
explain, but it's something.

You have to look at me.

But I
don't understand.

Right now, there are
only your eyes, my eyes

and the souls behind them,
gazing at each other.

Gabby, this is the most important
night of your entire life.

If you love me, and trust me,

I need you to look at me.

Okay.

Yes, yes, you're getting it.

I love you.

I love you.

This is bigger
than the both of us.

What are
you talking about?

This, something.

Something is happening.

Michael, you're
scaring me a little.

That's okay, that's okay.

Because everything
is as it needs to be.

Look at me.

I am.

No, don't just look
at me with your eyes.

That's it.

I love you.

I love you.

Gabrielle, listen to me.

God is here.

As in like "God is love?"

No, God, God.

The God.

I didn't know
you were religious.

I don't know why I said that.

Because he's here.

He is here.

Okay, I guess
God is everywhere

if you believe in that

- sort of thing.
- No, no.

It's much more
specific than that.

He's here right now.

Okay, well, where's
he hiding now?

Do not recognize your Lord?

What is this?

An opportunity.

What are you saying exactly?

You know what's
happening here.

You're only phrasing
it as a question

because you don't
like the answer.

Are you trying to
tell me you're God?

Not trying, I am.

No.

Nope, I don't like this game.

There's no game.

You and I need to have a
somewhat intense conversation.

Okay.

I am too high for
this right now.

You are freaking me out.

I know, kid.

Unfortunately, there's not
really a way around that.

But in matters of extreme
urgency such as this one

it's the only way.

Okay, Michael,
what's happening here?

Michael isn't present.

This isn't going to be
what you want to hear

but it is the truth.

There is a God.

And right now he's
communicating with you

through your boyfriend.

This is a direct experience
with The Creator, yours truly.

The sooner you wrap
your head around it

the sooner we can get
to the matter at hand.

The matter at hand?

You're in a
predicament, Gabrielle.

I'm here to help you out of it.

Okay, do you have
any idea how much

you're creeping
me out right now?

I do, but I need you to
give into the experience.

We don't have much time.

We have all weekend.

So how about you drop this now,

and if you still want
to play God tomorrow

we will revisit it?

I'm the only person
you'll ever meet

that isn't playing
God, actually.

Oh!

What are you calling what
you're doing right now, then?

I am that I am.

Okay.

I am going to go
and take a shower

and you are going to sit
down and have a drink.

When I get back, we
will watch a movie

and forget about whatever joke
you're trying to make here.

Look at me.

Does anything in me
seem like I'm joking?

You are making me
seriously uncomfortable.

That's normal.

It gets worse before
it gets better

if you don't give in.

Holy shit, do you
actually genuinely believe

what you're saying?

Question is whether
or not you do.

I know who I am.

You are actually crazy.

You've been
with Michael for four months.

You know that he isn't crazy.

Yeah, well, I thought I did.

If you're not crazy, then
you're a fucking psychopath!

You don't believe that.

Trust your instincts on this.

Michael's a good man.

Good men don't
pretend to be God!

Exactly.

Your heart knows Michael
isn't crazy or evil.

Your mind just won't let
you accept the alternative.

Trust your heart on this one.

It'll take you further.

Oh yeah, and throw
out all rationality?

No, don't throw it out.

Contextualize it.

Can you find love
with an equation?

Can you cure cancer
with friendship?

This is a matter for your heart.

Thanks.

I followed my heart to you

and it seems it led
me to manipulator.

You don't believe that.

Not five minutes
ago you told Michael

you trusted him completely.

That was before you
pulled whatever the hell

this stunt is!

Or it was before you
had a reason to doubt him.

Is trust only in the absence
of doubt ever really trust?

This isn't doubt!

You are actively
breaking my trust!

You're free to
make that judgment.

I'm still going to give
you the information.

The choice of what to do
with it is yours alone.

Excuse me.

I am officially calling it.

Both this game you're
playing and the two of us.

It's happening, and it
is happening for a reason.

You're in danger.

You're threatening me?

I'm alerting you.

You're going to die before
the end of this weekend.

And you are not prepared.

You know, you can't do this.

Listen to me very carefully.

After death, there
comes a judgment.

There's a real heaven
and a real hell.

They're both everlasting.

I've given you this life

and on Sunday, it will finish.

If you die, as you are now,
it's hell that awaits you.

I will not be denying
your soul heaven.

By rejecting me in this life,

you have denied me your soul.

Having given you a free will

I will respect the
choice you make with it,

but I don't want that
fate for you, Gabrielle.

I love you.

I created you.

When this life is complete,

it's my wish for
you to come home.

Great.

Are you done?

Mhmm.

Or do I need to
tell you another time

that I am not interested

in whatever it is
you're doing here?

That's
the problem though.

See your lack of interest
doesn't change your predicament.

We can have this
conversation now,

or we could have it
on the other side.

Despite what that feels like,

it's much better if
we have it right now!

What do you want
from me with this?

I don't
want anything from you.

I want you.

I want us to have each other.

Is this your MO, dude?

You woo girls and then
bring them up to your cabin

to kill them unless
they worship you?

Oh my god, you're
actually gonna fucking

kill me, aren't you?

You would rather believe
that your boyfriend

has spontaneously
become a serial killer

than accept that your
creator loves you

and has come to plead
with you to come home?

Only one of those things has
anything to do with reality!

How do you know?

Because I live in the world.

I see a lot of fucked up people,

not so much the other thing.

There's a great very
much that isn't seen

and is still true.

Maybe.

But this is a joke.

You are trying to get me to buy

into something
literally impossible.

No.

I'm asking you to recategorize

what you hold to be impossible.

Well that's impossible.

You have two choices.

You can either trust
in Michael's character

and understand that
this is within the power

of a sovereign God

and come home to me Sunday,

or dismiss the present situation

because you're
uncomfortable or skeptical

and spend the next
two days believing

that what I've
said is impossible.

Only to find out that this

was your last lifeline
from the darkness.

You will plead with me.

You will tell me you
couldn't have known.

You will bargain and
apologize and weep.

And it will break my heart to
tell you that it was too late.

Yeah, well, what's breaking
my heart is finding out

that you're not who
I thought you were.

I loved you, man.

This is love.

This, this is love.

Sooner or later you'll
understand that.

I want my fucking
boyfriend back.

Hey.

Hey, what's wrong?

Whoah, whoa.

I'm sorry if that
got a little intense.

Intense?

You're an insane person.

I think that's a little harsh.

I just thought that would
be romantic, honestly.

I wanted to have,
you know, a moment.

Well then with
your next girlfriend

maybe don't ruin the moment

by telling her
she's going to die

unless she fucking worships you!

Next girlfriend?

What are you talking about?

I am not going to be a
part of this mind game.

It's that simple.

I hope you had your little fun

and that it was worth
ruining a good thing for.

A really good thing, Michael!

I didn't mean
to ruin anything!

Well, at least you're
responding to Michael again.

Of course I am?

I guess I went a little too
far trying to create some

I don't know, intimacy?

It was just misplaced affection.

Is that what you call it?

Misplaced affection?

Because from over here,

telling me that
I'm going to hell

is about as far from
affectionate as it fucking gets!

I have no idea where
this is coming from.

I see.

God is gone,

and Michael doesn't
remember anything

from when God has here.

Am I basically getting it?

If you get what's going on,
that makes exactly one of us.

You said that you're God,

that I'm going to die on Sunday.

You told me that I'm going
to hell two minutes ago!

No, I don't,

- I didn't-
- You didn't what?

Say it?

You just spent the
last five minutes-

- I believe you.

If that's what you say
happened, that's what happened.

I must have blacked
out or something.

I don't know why I would
have said any of that.

I'm not buying the aw
shucks routine here, man.

You're taking me
home in the morning.

Of course I will, but
you have to believe me.

I don't remember anything
that you're saying.

Okay, well then
you're mentally ill.

Pot doesn't make people
think that they're God.

You're right.

Yeah, something to be
wrong with me then.

I'm so, so sorry.

I'll take you home tomorrow

- and I'll go see a doctor.
- Do what you have to do.

I just don't want
to be a part of it.

Intentional or
not, it's my fault, my issue.

You don't deserve to
be swept up in it.

Do you think
having another drink

would calm your nerves
or make things worse?

Michael?

He's a good man.

Saddle him with this and he
will carry the guilt with him

for the rest of his life.

He'll be in and out of
psychiatrist offices.

He'll fear having a
drink with friends,

worried that he could slip
back into this God persona

and threaten them.

He will forever pair truly
opening up to and loving someone

with this episode.

It will keep him from
ever trusting himself

with falling in love
with another woman.

From getting married,

from having children.

Is that what you want for him?

Michael?

You're having another episode,
are you in there somewhere?

Michael doesn't
know I'm doing this.

I need you to believe.

Not just for your own sake,

but because I need
you to be the one

to convince Michael
that I was here.

But you aren't here.

You are a hiccup
in Michael's brain.

That's easier to
accept, isn't it?

If that's what you
insist is happening

you don't have to
adjust your reality.

You wouldn't have to face
the creator you've rejected.

You wouldn't be dying on Sunday.

Look, I understand
the appeal of denial,

don't get me wrong, but

all it's really doing is
making the final moments

of your walk into
damnation more comfortable.

This feels very real
for you, doesn't it?

You genuinely think you're God.

Ah, you won't even
consider the alternative.

Yes, this could be
a mental illness,

or it could be exactly
what I'm telling you it is.

No, it really couldn't.

Why not?

Why couldn't God do exactly
this if he wanted to?

Okay, I'm not saying
that a theoretical God

couldn't do this hypothetically.

You're
just saying he isn't.

Exactly.

And you know what
God's been up to, to you?

You've been keeping tabs on him?

I don't even
believe in God, dude.

All the more reason he
would need to come to you

in the days before your death.

And how would he do
that if he doesn't exist?

And you know he doesn't exist?

How?

How have you managed to
determine with such certainty

that a being entirely separate

from your sphere of
perception doesn't exist?

Did you manage to check outside
your reality from inside

and determine that
I'm not there?

How are you so sure?

Because it's ridiculous.

Mmmm.

If not being ridiculous were
a prerequisite for truth,

nobody would believe
in the platypus.

Okay, well, if I could
only know a platypus existed

by speaking to him
through my boyfriend,

I would probably
be skeptical, yeah.

You know what I think?

I think you reject me

not because you've
scoured through infinity

and determined my absence,

or because I'm some
impossible concept,

but because you don't like me.

You don't want me to
exist because it puts

an authority over you

and you don't want to
be held accountable

for what you do in this life.

That's not true.

Well, you don't
believe in the person

standing in front of you,

so forgive me if I don't take
you as an authority on truth.

I know what's true about me.

You know what
feels true to you.

Okay, yeah, well,
when we're talking

about what I believe,
that's the same thing.

Great.

Then by your logic,

if this is a hiccup
of Michael's brain,

but it feels true to him,

that makes it true?

God is simultaneously
here and not here.

He exists and he doesn't.

What a world!

Obviously
that doesn't make sense.

But it's possible,
according to your standards.

So what does that tell you?

You know, be as
clever as you want.

This doesn't change
the fact that this

isn't something that
can happen in real life.

The fact?

You better be sure that
that's absolutely true

before you go gambling
your eternity on it.

Well, you're
rigging the game, man.

There are no absolute truths.

Oh, okay.

Wait, is it absolutely true

that there are no
absolute truths?

I guess not.

Then you could be wrong.

There could be absolute truths.

Sure,
I could be wrong.

So you admit you don't know
as much as you're insisting?

Yeah, maybe I don't,
but neither do you.

God
could know what was

absolutely true
though, couldn't he?

Yeah, hypothetically,
but you aren't God.

You already said that
if there was a God,

he could do this.

So why are you
still so closed off?

If I had to wager a
guess, which I don't,

I'd say it's because it
focuses a spotlight on you.

You want Michael to be crazy

because then he's
the problem here.

Are you avoiding this
because you know that

a moral and just judgment
of your entire life

would condemn you?

Are you shuddering from
looking into the face

of your mortality
because somewhere in you,

you know you deserve
to go to hell?

You know what, now that
I'm thinking about it,

I remember hearing that
indulging someone's delusions

only makes them worse.

So I'm not gonna engage
with you any further.

As
long as you can fit

whatever's happening here

into your mental
schema of psychosis

you will continue
to push me out.

You see how that's a problem?

As long as God isn't the
only possibility for you,

you choose the alternative.

It doesn't matter if that
means turning the image

of the man you love into a
mental patient or a manipulator.

It's better anything else than
it is truly being me, right?

Okay, God.

I hear you, you're
upset with me.

You want to talk to me about it.

Why don't we have that
conversation tomorrow, okay?

Let's all go to bed,
get a good night's rest.

And we will talk all about
heaven when we wake up.

You're never
going to want to have

this conversation, Gabrielle.

You're always going to
want to push it away

either by some hollow reason

for disbelief or
procrastination.

You will never want that
intimidating moment to be now.

I've told you, truthfully

that on Sunday at your judgment,
we will go through it all.

You're going to wish
you'd done it now.

I understand what
you're saying, my Lord,

but it has been an
exhausting day of driving

and I'm still not exactly sober.

So I think it would be best

for both of us to revisit
this when I've rested.

Even if I
couldn't see your heart,

your tone wouldn't
fool a toddler,

let alone your creator.

You can see my heart?

Yes.

I know your intentions
better than you do.

Right.

Being God and all.

Naturally.

Well, that raises some
obvious questions, doesn't it?

I'd hope so.

I've been waiting for
you to get on board

so you can ask them.

No, I'm not getting onboard.

A real God wouldn't do this.

A real God would appear as a

floating talking
eyeball, or whatever.

That'd be much more convincing.

Or hell, turn my
glass into a frog.

Then you've got me as
your captive audience.

All ears, promise.

That
isn't that easy though.

Right, why would it be?

It would be an awful shame to
offer any proof, I suppose.

In a way, yes.

Okay, come on.

You want me to believe
your God, yeah?

That's why you're here?

Mhmm.

Okay.

So go on then.

Speak to me in a big,
booming voice from the sky.

If you can do that,
then sure, you're God.

If not, then maybe it's you

who needs to come to terms
with an uncomfortable truth.

That you aren't God,

you're a product
of Michael's brain.

I'm the creator of the
cosmos and all inside of it,

not a part of it.

I'm not merely beyond
your physical universe

but in another realm
of existence entirely.

My true essence has
no translation here.

No comprehensible form.

I can only interact
with your world

by my pressing up against the
boundaries of your reality.

You have to be the one to
sense me on the other side.

If I shout at you,

you wouldn't hear me any more

than the characters on
your television screen

could hear you hollering
up against the glass.

I speak through your world,
not into it, every day.

And to every single one of you.

I'm not Charlton Heston
booming down from the sky.

I'm your intuition.

I'm the overheard
conversations of strangers,

sudden sparks of insight.

Have you ever had a particularly
meaningful fortune cookie?

Nearly everything
that you experienced

is my half of a lifelong
ongoing conversation

between the two of us.

And right now, because of the
urgency of your circumstances

I've come to you this way.

As directly and obviously
as our distance allows.

It's good, man.

It's good.

It's a little convenient
though, isn't it?

Your hands are tied
from doing the one thing

that would prove your story?

Can a video game programmer
jump into a software

and introduced himself
to his characters?

Can he walk around
moving the ones and zeros

with his bare hands?

Or must he change the code
from his dwelling space

outside of the hardware?

That doesn't mean the
programmer doesn't exist.

It just means that he doesn't
interact with the data

the same way that he
does the physical world.

And I don't interact
with the physical world

the same way that
I do the spiritual.

So change the code then.

Delete the couch from
this living room.

I don't operate in the
way you're asking me to.

But that doesn't mean
that I do nothing.

I'm constantly at
work in this world.

My arms are chance
and happenstance.

My voice is synchronicity.

But as I work
within natural laws,

you can dismiss everything
that I do here as a coincidence

or a natural phenomenon or,

in this case, mental illness.

Yeah, well, if you are God,

you would know how
this looks to me.

I know exactly
what you're feeling.

You're lying to yourself.

I think I know my own mind.

You can know your own mind
when it's convenient for you

but Michael's lost
his when it isn't?

The truth here is that
you have no knowledge

and two choices.

If you were in a situation
with a mentally ill person

it could look like
this, sure, but,

if what I've told you is true

and the sovereign and living God

has given you a
personal audience,

it too would look
exactly like this.

From the limits of your
perspective, both options are valid.

Yet you choose categorically
that one is true,

and the other impossible.

As much as you want to believe

you're doing the
rational thing here,

you're not making an
intellectual decision.

The question here
is whether or not

you have trust or doubt.

And you're choosing doubt.

I'm urging you to reconsider.

You're letting the wrong
things cloud your judgment.

And it has put your
eternity in jeopardy.

You can make
anything sound reasonable

as a hypothetical.

Then maybe it's
just reasonable.

You can dress it
up nice and pretty.

But at the end of the day,

people don't claim to be
God because they are God.

They claim to be God,
because they're unwell.

Do you have a reason
to separate reality

from a reasonable
hypothetical about reality?

Is your problem with
the idea of God,

or do you just not want me
here in your living room?

It doesn't matter what I want.

This feels like a full fledged
assault on common sense.

Feels like.

Does how you feel
about something

influence whether
or not it's real?

No.

But in this case it's just
plainly and obviously not true.

Hmm.

And that is absolutely true.

Yes.

Didn't you say earlier that
there were no absolute truths?

Well I think
it's true at least.

You think so, but
you can't know so.

So why assert that
your belief is reality?

All I know is my
own truth, okay?

I've managed to figure
out what seems true,

what seems moral and
immoral, and I live by that.

So you've
made yourself God?

And what if I have?

Why shouldn't I create
the rules for my own life?

Are you qualified?

You already said you
don't know what's true

and what's not.

What if you're wrong?

I know how to treat
people with kindness

and with love.

And could you give love
if I didn't create you

to be loving?

Would you even
know what love was

if I hadn't invented
it in the first place?

You're borrowing from me.

How are you a better
judge of morality

than the one who invented good?

I'm trying as hard as I can.

And I'm telling you, you
don't have to try so hard.

Not being God isn't
denying you privileges.

It's a kindness.

Defining reality,
discerning absolutes,

these aren't your
burdens to carry.

Your role is to enjoy them.

I don't know how I would
even begin to accept that.

You start by admitting

you don't know that what
I've told you isn't true.

Because I can promise
you, you don't.

The world is a
far stranger place

than you're giving
it credit for.

Uncertainty is good,

but admission of
uncertainty is better.

I can work with that.

You're not going to have the
answers you want about this

in this life.

The only way you can
know these things

is if I tell them to you.

So trust what's being
revealed to you right now.

I can't do that.

And you'll
feel that way tomorrow too.

I'm sure I will.

Well, as I've said,

you're free to make that choice.

It's just much easier if
we talk about this now

than on judgment day.

I can't let you walk
obliviously into the fire.

But if you do so with
your eyes wide open,

I will respect the
choice you make

with the free will
that I gave you.

I don't feel like I have
my eyes wide open at all.

I'm stumbling around
blind if anything!

And here I am telling
you that I see clearly

and to follow my voice.

Well how do I know
that you can actually see

if you don't prove it?

You can't, you
have to trust me.

You've run from me your
whole life and I've let you

because there was
always tomorrow.

and tomorrow you
could come back.

But now?

Now there's precisely
one more tomorrow.

That's it.

And I really, really
don't want to lose you.

Michael?

Michael.

God?

Wake up.

Wake up, you piece of shit!

What the fuck?!

What is this, huh?

Are you gonna kill me?

Are you gonna fucking kill me?

What the hell, you
didn't even finish

a fucking drink!

Fuck!

I am going crazy.

I am going crazy!

You better just be sick.

Or you better fucking be God!

Asshole.

I am going crazy

Hey.

Sorry.

Sorry, I didn't mean to...

How'd you sleep?

Not at all.

Mostly, then badly.

I guess I slept
on the couch last night?

Yeah, you passed out.

I don't think I'm used to
drinking and smoking, you know?

That was something else.

I've been around
enough people tripping

and I have never seen
anything like what you did.

Or anyone so unresponsive.

I literally thought you
could have died for a second.

Good news is I'm still alive.

That's good news, right?

Yeah, of course.

I know what happened last
night was really weird for you.

It was really weird for me too.

Hearing what you said,
I did whenever I was on,

I don't know on
autopilot or whatever,

it must've been frightening.

I can't express to
you how sorry I am.

Well, you did it again.

We were having a
normal conversation

and you flipped
right back into it.

I did?

I promise I would never
do anything intentionally

to scare you.

I don't know if there's
anything I can say

to smooth this over or

if this is just ruined
now because of me,

but I want you to know

that these past few months
have been wonderful.

I'm just really sorry

for screwing this up.

So whatever we do from here,

I'm just grateful that I had
you in my life while I did.

Anyway, that's all
I had to say, so.

I came up here to wake you up

because it's a little past noon

and I wanted to see if you still
wanted me to take you home.

I think what I really want
right now is some privacy

so I can take a shower.

Okay?

Yeah.

Okay, sure.

Michael?

Michael?

Sorry.

A million miles away.

You showered fast.

Listen, how
you treated me last night

was beyond inappropriate.

I know, I know you're right.

Please just let me say this.

I know that you're beating
yourself up over this.

And I think that's a good thing.

I mean, you told
me I was gonna die.

I legit thought that
you were gonna kill me.

And I know you weren't
really in control

of what you're saying,
but that's not an excuse.

It came out of you.

I saw a side of the
man I love last night

that I thought was
capable of hurting me.

I almost stole your
car and left you here,

I was so scared.

Oh my God, really?

Yes, really.

I don't know, I couldn't.

Obviously.

If you really did have some
kind of psychotic break

I couldn't just abandon you here

when the phones don't even work.

I wouldn't blame
you if you did.

Good, I would have
been totally justified.

You would have.

Totally in my rights.

I agree.

It's a lot for me
to take in too.

You have to take it in.

You have to know how
serious this was for me.

Trust me, I get it.

It's really serious for me too.

Then that said,

if you know that, I
need you to promise me

if anything like
this happens again,

you're gonna see like, a doctor.

Yeah, of course.

Of course, yeah.

And I think we
should put a moratorium

on getting stoned.

Absolutely.

All right then.

You're sorry and
we're in agreement.

So...

I don't think we
have to break up.

I really do love you, dude.

And I'm still upset
about everything but

I'm sorry for saying some
of the things I said.

You don't have to apologize.

I deserve it.

I love you.

Let's just try
and put behind us

for the next couple
of days, yeah?

Yeah.

Gladly.

Woo, game!

Best two out of three?

No, it's cool.

I'm fine with you just being
better at this one than me.

Okay, okay, let's
play darts then.

Here, I'm lousy at those.

Here.

Okay.

Hang on, let me show you.

Here.

All right.

Take that.

All right, just keep your
eye on where you're aiming

and your brain will
fill in the rest.

- Okay?
- You know what?

I don't think I'm very
good at this one either.

Why don't we just take
it easy on the couch,

watch a movie?

Okay, yeah.

Hey, hey.

I love you, you know?

I know.

I love you too.

You know, I could
use a drink actually.

You want one?

Yeah.

Seven and seven?

Extra
daylight does us.

Now we've still got a
three hour drive back.

We're not going to be
home until after midnight.

Well if
it really bugs you, Johnny

you wouldn't do it.

You think
I wanna blow Sunday

on a scene like this?

You know, I figure
we're either going to have

to move mother out
here or move to Grays.

I broke us, didn't I?

He can't
make a trip like this.

No.

I don't think so.

I don't know.

I just don't feel
quite right yet.

That's okay, isn't it?

Yeah, that's okay, I get it.

I was thinking.

Maybe this weekend just got a
little too weird to salvage.

Maybe we should just go home
and try again another time.

Is that what you want?

Yeah, okay.

Okay, then let's
go pack the car.

Sure about this?

I don't want to break up.

I just don't think I'm
going to feel okay enough

to have a good
time this weekend.

Yeah, sure.

Thanks.

Driving out of here
doesn't change anything

we've talked about.

You mean about us or what?

About us.

About you.

Leaving the cabin

doesn't mean you're driving
away from your death.

Micheal.

I thought we were
done with this.

What have I said to
give you the impression

that we were done with this?

Not you, Michael.

I was hoping since
we were both sober,

this wouldn't happen again.

That would make sense

if this was caused
by not being sober.

I just want to be in
my own bed by myself.

I want to go home.

Home is with me, Gabrielle.

You need to understand that.

You want comfort,
you want security.

I'm the source of
all of those things.

I know you want me.

You love me.

All you have to do
is recognize me.

I can't do this right now.

Bring Michael back,
I want to go home!

That's where I'm
trying to take you.

So come!

Come to the source of all joy,

of all novelty and humor,

of all rest and contentedness,

come to the source of
all kinship and life.

Come to the spirit of God!

Yes.

I'm only here because our
hearts long for each other.

If you drive away
from this place

where I have
approached you plainly,

you're driving away
from your Lord.

You're making a choice.

But since this decision
is irreversible,

you need to know what
that truly means.

You have a misconception
about hell.

It's not a punishment,
it's a consequence.

In this life you
are a small rowboat,

adrift in the ocean
without a map.

I'm an ocean liner
pulling up alongside you

and telling you I'm headed
where you need to go.

You have a choice.

Either hit your boat to mine
and let me take you there

or push off from
me and drift away.

Life may be temporary, but you,

you, Gabrielle are eternal,

made in my eternal image.

Do you understand what happens

if you push yourself off from me

and all that I am?

The most gentle push
away from my ship

may not get you very far
after just a few hours

or even a few days,

but over eternity?

Infinitely far and farther yet.

If you choose to
rid yourself of me

you'll lose all of me.

That fear you have now,
the cornered feeling.

You still have hope this way.

Think of how you'll
feel on your first step

of that internal walk into hell.

The fear, the desperation
with no hope of reversal,

only the certainty that
the terror and anguish

will become worse.

Can you feel the weight
of that on your shoulders?

Can you see why I've
come to plead with you?

It breaks my heart to
offer you everything

and see you requesting an
inheritance of darkness.

I need you to grasp this.

You will be denying
the divine image

that I have placed within you

that separates you
from any other animal.

You will feel only
the primal fear

of being prey.

As your Creator,

your father,

do you think I want to see
you drift to the everlasting

knowing that with
every moment of agony,

every gnash of your
teeth, every hunger pang,

every shallow gasp
for toxic air,

every yearn for a drop of water,

every longing for even another
soul to commiserate with,

that you are no closer to
any semblance of relief?

Imagine living a
trillion trillion years

and being no closer
than when you got there.

The remorse that you
could have avoided it all

with one conversation,

this conversation, never leaves.

If you drive away
from this cabin,

you're driving away from me.

And directly, directly
into this fate.

I've come to rescue you.

I've come here to save you!

I've come here
because I love you.

I made you.

I made you specifically
from nothing

because you offer the
universe something

no other soul is able to.

Losing you is worse than a
parent losing their child.

I want you in hell far less
than you want to be there

but I do not drag people kicking
and screaming into heaven.

Paradise is an opt-in system.

And you opt in by
placing your trust in me,

hitching your boat to mine.

It's free, it's right
there for the taking

if you just take it.

I've implored you, but
I will not demand you.

It is and must be your choice.

And we'll both live eternally
with the consequences.

Why are you doing this to me?

This is not to terrify you.

Though I know it does.

We find ourselves in an airplane

that I know is going to crash,

and I'm begging you
to put on a parachute,

but you don't
believe you need one!

The most merciful thing
that I can do right now

is hanging by your legs
outside of the plane

and show you the
drop you're facing.

Maybe then, you'll see why
you need the parachute.

Everything I've told you

is what you get without me.

Not desiring hell is enough
to know you desire heaven.

And desiring heaven is enough
to know that you desire me.

If you're terrified
by the thought of hell

then you and I are
on the same team.

It is that simple.

I hate this!

What's the loving thing to do

when someone's denying their
own self-destructive behavior?

Doesn't an intervention
provide help for an alcoholic?

No matter if it's
personally difficult?

Or is that too
personal of a metaphor?

I know the guilt
hasn't left you.

Doubt can serve you or you it.

And look where doubt got you

in your mother's
final days on earth.

It's sending you into
even worse fate now.

You want knowledge, but this
just isn't a knowledge test.

My own know me.

You know who I am, Gabrielle.

I just need you to say it.

Who am I, Gabrielle?

We both know that
you know the answer.

Please tell me, who am I?

There's nothing
left to say, than.

I have loved you
from eternity past

and I will mourn you
into eternity future.

Goodbye, my Gabrielle.

It's okay.

I'll have you home
in like six hours,

and don't worry about
calling me or anything

until you're ready.

What?

What's wrong?

Did I do it again?

Gabby?

Oh my god.

Gabby, I thought this
was drugs or whatever

but if this has happened...

I'm completely sober right now.

You have to take me home.

I need help.

- I really need help.
- I'm so scared.

It's okay, it's okay.

Baby, look at me, look at me.

It's me, I'm back.

No, I don't want
you back right now.

I want him back.

Him?

Babe there's no him,
are you serious?

- It's me.
- How do you know that?

Some of the things he said,

I just can't imagine them
coming from your brain.

But they
came out of my mouth.

Yeah, exactly!

And he knew things.

Michael, he knew
something about my mother

that I never told you.

That's not possible.

That's not possible.

No, he said he knew
that I had the opportunity

to stage an
intervention for her,

and I didn't.

And I have to think if she
still had her health insurance

when she got sick, she would...

He knew how guilty

- I still feel.
- He said that?

He said that, he told
you that specifically?

He said that this was
like an intervention.

And he knew my guilt.

And then he mentioned my mom.

That's not the same
thing as knowing.

Your own guilt is forcing you
to connect a bunch of dots

that aren't really there.

You don't know that.

I want to talk to God again.

Make him come back!

Make him come back!

Stop making the breakdown
that I'm having about you.

You're not the one
in danger here.

My brain is breaking, okay?

We have to go home.

I'm not driving like this.

I can't do that.

We're in an emergency
situation here, all right?

You need to be brave.

What if I have another
episode while I'm driving?

I could hurt us or worse.

I'm not driving right now!

You have to!

No, he told me that if I left

he would accept
that as my answer.

I would be going to hell!

He didn't say anything!

It's me.

You're not dying, you're
not going to hell.

I said those things
because I am sick.

Here, take these keys.

Take these keys from
me, switch seats with me

and drive us home.

Please, this is life
or death, Gabrielle.

Why did you call me Gabrielle?

Because it's your name.

You never call me Gabrielle.

Take the keys.

Come on, this could be
seizures for all we know!

Baby, we can't afford
to waste our time.

Please, please.

Okay.

God?

Please come back.

I need to talk to you again.

Please?

I'm open, I promise.

I just have some questions

and I want to get to the
bottom of what's happening.

It's no use, Gabby.

This doesn't concern you.

This is between me and him.

It wasn't God that
was talking to you.

That was me.

You need to get that

- through your head.
- How would you know that?

You weren't there.

Please, God, talk to me
through Michael again.

Why don't we black
out the windows

or light some candles

- or something?
- It's not a seance, dude.

Then what are we doing?

I don't know.

Prayer, I guess?

Prayer?

Yeah, prayer.

Prayer.

Dear God.

If there is a God, I know
you can hear me right now.

I don't know what's
going on with Michael.

I just don't.

But if I do have a creator

and if I have any
obligation to you,

I want to know.

And if I'm in a
dangerous situation

and you can get me out of it,

then I need your help.

I'm little and you are big.

I'm confused and scared and

I don't even know what
I need or want right now

but you do.

So please, anything.

Don't abandon me here.

Shit.

Did anything happen?

Did I do it again?

You see?

See, it's not real.

If God was talking
to you through me,

why wouldn't he answer that?

I don't know.

Maybe it's too late.

Maybe the car is my last
chance and I blew it.

Maybe I'm damned.

Let's just go home.

This is all going to be
a bad memory, all right?

No, if this is
really happening,

then driving home finalizes it.

As long as we're
here, there's hope.

Okay.

Okay.

I'm gonna make you some dinner.

You barely ate today.

I love you.

Don't forget that, okay?

Yeah.

I love you too.

Probably won't be
the most exciting part

of the weekend anymore, but

this does happen
to be my specialty.

Try to eat something.

You need it.

And it's delicious if
I may say so myself.

Come on, it's not
that horrid, is it?

No.

It just occurred to me that
this could be my last meal.

Am I going crazy?

I hate seeing you like this.

Look where you are.

Here with me, okay?

You're safe here.

I'm not going to let
anything hurt you.

We could crash driving home
on Sunday for all I know.

Let's call off work
and go back on Monday.

I won't let anything
happen to you.

I promise.

You're sweet.

You are, but this
is bigger than you.

It really isn't.

It is me.

I'm the one who put
this fear in to you.

Okay, I find it
more concerning

that you're fighting
so hard to tell me

that nothing's really happening.

You know, if you
were screwing with me

you'd just let me believe it.

All the more likely
option that I have

some sort of psychosis.

Yeah, well then your psychosis

does a really fucking
convincing God impression.

Okay.

I know you're scared,

but right now there is
nothing scary happening.

Right now, we are a
boyfriend and a girlfriend

sitting down to
have a nice romantic

home cooked dinner together.

Don't worry about anything else.

Let's just sit here and
enjoy each other's company.

I don't know where I'm going
to be this time tomorrow.

There is a wide range
of possibilities

and one of them is in hell.

How can you expect me to
get that out of my mind?

Because it doesn't make
any sense to believe that.

God doesn't use
people as puppets.

Okay well if he did,
would the puppet know?

We can't know for certain

and that means that
there is a chance

that my clock is ticking.

I'm so sorry that
I've done this to you.

I think we're both gonna
need therapy after this.

Yeah, if there
is an after this.

You like the wine?

Yeah? Me too.

1989 Malbec.

Bottled in Napa Valley.

You ever wonder if they
just put random dates

on these things?

Yeah how do you know
it was bottled in 1989,

not like 2009?

You think you can
tell a difference?

Nope, I guess not.

And Napa Valley.

That's kind of
obvious, isn't it?

If I was going to make up where
my fraudulent wine came from

I would say Napa Valley.

It's like an
archetypical wine place.

Hmm, even a bit
of a cliche right?

Okay.

I appreciate you trying
to take my mind off this.

But please stop.

I just want some silence
for a minute, okay.

Just food for thought.

Think this stuff could be
a bootleg bathtub wine?

I'm not worried about it.

I'm sure there is some
kind of regulation in place

that keeps people
from just lying

about what they're
selling like that, okay?

Yeah.

You're sure about that though?

How are you so sure?

What do you mean?

You said I'm sure there is,

not, maybe there is.

How do you know?

Do you know there are
regulations in place

or do you just trust that
what the bottle says is true?

I don't know.

Hmm.

But you believe it.

It's weird, right?

If you think about it,
really think about it,

a majority of your life,

your beliefs, your opinions,

even things you hold
to be cold hard facts,

they all have their
foundation in faith,

not knowledge, right?

You believe without
question that this,

this wine was bottled
in 1989 in Napa Valley.

Why?

Because it says on a label?

You haven't checked,
you don't know

But you believe it.

You trust authority
for big stuff.

Like the sun is 93
million miles away.

You see that in a textbook,

you have no trouble
believing it at all.

From the littlest things
to the largest foundations

of your core beliefs
about reality.

Almost everything you feel
you know with certainty

stems from faith.

What's one more jump?

I'm asking you to
trust my answer

to the biggest question,

because you trust that
I'm the highest authority.

There's another
reason why I only

communicate with human beings

against the boundaries
of their reality

while they're still
in their lifetime.

I'm not concerned with whether
or not you believe in me.

I want to know whether
or not you trust me.

And for there to be
real trust, true faith,

it has to grow in spite
of a temptation to doubt.

If you could be certain,

if I was the safe option,

well, that's not faith, is it?

It's practicality.

Yup, just like I suspected

that is crap wine from
outside Pittsburgh.

Who am I, Gabrielle?

Who am I?

God?

The one and only.

And what does that make you?

A child of God, my daughter.

You didn't leave.

Well, why didn't you answer me

when I called out to you?

I was desperate.

It wasn't the right time.

Why does it always
have to be your time?

If you really love me, then

why not come when I needed you?

My time is your time.

But by effectiveness, not need.

Mysterious ways.

I need some air.

So you're really the creator.

Of everything.

I am.

Of me?

You created me?

Well, you're a part of
everything, aren't you?

I decided that you
specifically you

were so worthy of eternal love

that I brought you into existence
just to give that to you.

And everything that I do, I
do out of my love for you.

So am I special in some way?

Of course.

But every person is.

I love every individual
one of you so much

that I created the entire
universe for each of you alone.

I don't get it.

In all of history
and all of future,

there are trillions of you.

But if it were just one
person as the sole human being

I would have created everything
for just the two of us.

My undying love for every person

doesn't overshadow the love
that I have for you alone.

Okay, so everyone is just as
important as everybody else?

In an important but
specific way, absolutely.

Okay, well then why me?

Why give me this experience
and not other people?

I reach out to everyone.

Trust me, everyone.

But it's only the people who
have their hearts open to me

that I can do anything
like this for.

It's not just who wants.

It's who yearns, and you did.

You loved me.

You just didn't know me.

I wanted you?

I told you to your face I
thought you were a psychopath.

I didn't believe you!

But you kept talking to me.

Your heart wanted it to be true,

but your mind just
wouldn't let you accept it.

Your heart matters,
that stuff matters.

I can't believe
this is happening.

No, but you do, don't you?

Yeah.

It's just a little intense.

I mean, you're fucking God!

Shit, sorry.

Think that's something
I haven't heard before?

Don't censor yourself.

I know your intentions.

I want you to be honest with me.

Promise not to
smite me or anything?

Well you've made so
much progress today.

You think I'd really
throw that all away

and smite you now?

I mean, I don't know.

I don't know how you work.

A few hours ago you were
going to send me to hell.

How do I know you won't
get fed up and just do it?

Because I don't
want you to go there.

And I don't get fed up.

Patience is sort of part
of the whole God gig.

Okay so what do
I still have to do?

Am I good?

Am I going to heaven?

Well, you've gotten
over the first hurdle.

You believe me.

Now you have to trust me.

Okay?

Fine, I trust you.

Your heart has to trust me.

Like I said, these
things matter.

I do, I said, I trust you

Going to heaven isn't a matter
of saying some magic words.

You believe me,

but you don't trust me.

When the plane is going down,

you have to believe in a
parachute to know that it's there

but you have to trust
it to put it on.

When you're falling
towards earth,

do you think that your belief

in the idea of a parachute
is enough to save you?

Or do you have to trust it so
completely that you put it on?

You have to trust me.

You've got to put me on.

I don't know how to
make my heart trust you.

It doesn't even sound
like a real thing.

Of course it is.

Here, hold out your pinky.

Hmm?

You know what this
is, don't you?

A pinky promise.

Yes.

It is among the
purest representations

of trust that you have.

You don't know, you
have a pinky promise.

That means something,
it's honored.

Come here.

This is what I'm offering you.

A pinky promise of the
reality of the situation,

of my character,
of your destiny.

You can't know, but you can
accept my pinkie promises.

You've accepted
Michael's before.

Yeah, but that's different.

I know Michael.

I'm just meeting you.

Oh no, you're
just recognizing me.

You fell in love with Michael.

Why?

I don't know.

I just did.

Tell me what you
love about him.

He's gentle, funny.

Intimidatingly intelligent.

He's caring.

Well, not to brag,

but you're looking at the
inventor of those things.

People are only able
to be gentle or funny

or caring or kind or intelligent

because they're made
in the image of,

well, you're looking at him.

When you fell in
love with Michael

for the things that reflect me,

you fell in love with me.

You just didn't know it yet.

That's how I know you're mine.

Your heart wants me.

So how can I get
it to trust you?

You can start by being
honest about why you don't.

I don't know that I don't.

Yes you do.

But you have to
say that out loud

and you have to say it to me.

That's how we work through this.

You're anxious about
putting it out there

because you think that

saying something
will make me upset

or telling me will
make me withdraw.

You think if you say
it, it could damn you.

You need to grab
hold of two things.

First, there isn't
anything you can tell me

that I don't already know.

It's not a secret just because
you haven't said it out loud,

it is a festering wound.

When you bring it to me,
you're giving it air.

What you're not doing is
providing me with new information.

I know it already.

And I love you still.

And second, there's
nothing you can do

to change the way
that I feel about you.

Unconditional love
isn't a dull platitude.

Unconditional has a
real meaning here.

Without conditions,

even if it's harmful or
even if you do something

to upset me.

You wouldn't kick your
dog out of the house

for chewing up your
favorite slippers

or smite your toddler
for talking back.

The love and responsibility
are unconditional.

If I withdrew from you
because of something you said

or did or felt, well,

that'd be a condition,
wouldn't it?

Yeah, I guess so.

I just don't get it.

You know?

If you're God,

Okay, you are God, but,

if there's a God then
I just don't get it.

I mean, you told me
why you're not obvious,

but you still left us
alone with a lot of shit.

With evil.

Why would you let that happen?

You let the Holocaust happen.

You let people get
kidnapped, and raped,

and suffer constantly.

Wars, earthquakes, children
with fucking bone cancer.

And then you judge us?

You told me that I'm going
to hell for eternity.

What kind of perverted
sense of justice is that?

And then you show up
here threatening me

to love you and to trust you

or you're going
to send me to it?

How am I supposed to
trust you after that?

You're holding a gun to my head

and telling me that I
have to get in line.

You know, in what
universe is that love?

Unconditional love?

You know, you made me,
I didn't ask to be born.

You put me here and you put
me here how I am, right?

So if I've got faulty
hardware and I malfunction

then that's on you, dude,
you're the designer.

Where's the justice in
punishing me forever

for being exactly as
you fucking made me?

Where do you get off
making people imperfectly

and then damning them
for being imperfect?

You know I was
worried for a minute

that Michael was a
manipulative psycho,

but the more that
I think about it,

the more that this feels like
the abusive relationship.

You know, you're holding
my eternity hostage

and I'm supposed to
believe you're good?

So okay.

You're right, I believe you.

You're God.

And since you're God,
you can go fuck yourself!

I didn't mean that exactly.

I mean, obviously I
don't want to go to hell.

I don't want to

write you off and
be tortured forever.

But I just, I don't
fucking get it.

And I'm scared, and to be
honest, I'm pissed off.

Yes, good.

Those feelings come
from the divine spark

that I've given you.

You're right to be upset that
anybody at all is in hell.

Because you know
that they have value.

You know that when things are
wrong and people are hurt,

that that's not right.

You know that because you
weren't created to live

among evil and injustice.

Your soul wants perfection.

Your soul wants me.

Yeah but you created
it, you made the world.

I did.

But that doesn't mean

that I like everything
that happens in it.

These things you're
highlighting are things

that grieve me as well.

I yearn for justice.

I mourn for those in
hell the same as you.

I gave humanity this world,

but I did not create
the evil in it.

You did, all of you.

Unlike some faulty hardware,

you are a moral agent
with a free will.

Humanity chose evil voluntarily.

Allow me to properly refocus
your righteous anger.

Fine.

I'm building something.

A community of people who
live together as equals,

treating each other with
love and respect voluntarily.

I don't want robots who do my
bidding because they have to.

I intend to live among my
people, not rule over them.

So the problem arises.

How do we make a
community of people

who are not forced to be happy,

but choose to?

By giving them choice.

Creating people
inside of a utopia

that have no choice
whether or not to be there,

who may not want to be there,

who can't be anything other
than peaceful and loving,

that's more of a
dystopia, isn't it?

How do you mean?

Which feels more real?

A mindless automaton who
is programmed to love you

or truly falling in
love with someone

as they genuinely
fall in love with you?

So that's
what this is about?

You want people to love you?

Yes.

And true love is
voluntary, not compulsory.

There has to be a
better way to have people

fall in love other than
throwing them into evil.

Is there?

I'm quite literally the
source of all things

you hold as good, all of it.

You're made in my image, yes?

So you're naturally inclined
to find joy and peace

in things like,

well, for starters,
joy and peace.

But I'm not looking for people
with Stockholm syndrome here.

If someone is going
to meaningfully choose

to spend their eternity with me,

they need to know what
the other option is.

And what is the
opposite of love?

Hatred.

Sure.

And the opposite
of joy, despair.

The opposite of all that is good

is all that is evil.

So I create my own adversary.

The physical personified
embodiment of all that I am not.

The devil.

If it helps you to think
of him that way, sure.

There's an actual devil?

Like a literal Satan?

The way you're imagining him

elevates him to a certain
status that he's never had.

He's less of some all
powerful enemy of humanity

and more of a really
strong perspective.

He's an existential
enemy more than anything.

Isn't he the one responsible

for all the awful shit
that happens in the world?

No.

You are.

That's a royal you there.

I'm whispering into
all of your ears.

And so as is The Adversary.

You make a choice of
which of those suggestions

align with your soul.

You're free to do so.

And having given you
that freedom on purpose,

I will respect the
choice you make with it.

You respect us so much
that you burn us in hell

when we make the wrong choice?

There has to be a better way.

Okay, here.

Let's say you're God, hmm?

What'd you do differently?

Easy.

Everybody goes to heaven.

Wow, everybody?

That's a bold move.

Some might accuse you
of eternal kidnapping.

Who wouldn't want
to go to heaven?

You've met people
who enjoy conflict.

Selfish people, violent people,

you think they're gonna
start singing kumbaya

because they're in paradise?

I don't know, maybe.

What if they don't?

Wouldn't they just turn
heaven back into earth,

good folks and bad folk
suffering together?

Okay, well, I would
give everyone a chance

and then kick them out if
they screwed up too much.

But in the meantime, they
can muck around in heaven.

Wouldn't that diminish paradise

for the good people
trying to enjoy it?

Can you see why you would
need a screening process,

perhaps a lifetime
to allow people

to sort themselves
into or out of it?

So that's what life is?

A screening process?

You can
think of it that way.

Okay, fine.

So a lifetime to
weed out the Hitlers

and the Jeffrey Dahmer's
I get that, but...

I mean I wouldn't do
this to people like me.

I'm a pretty good
person, generally.

Aren't I?

Depends on who you're
comparing yourself against.

Against Hitler or
Jeffrey Dahmer, sure.

But compared to my goodness,

compared to the goodness of
paradise, are you perfect?

If I told you you
had to earn heaven

how confident are you that
you actually deserve it?

Who can answer that?

I can.

And if you're saying
that you don't know

aren't you really telling
me that you can't be sure?

That you may have done some
things to void your ticket?

Okay, yeah.

But it's not like my worst
moments are all that I've done.

I've been the good
Samaritan too.

Yeah, but take out
all the good you've done

out of obligation,

wanting people to like you,

wanting to like yourself,

hoping for some sort of
reciprocation or reward.

How many moments
of genuine altruism

do you think you've
had in your life?

I don't know, dude,
but it isn't zero.

Is it?

No.

There've been some.

Then those should count.

If I'm the judge, then those
moments count for something.

Yeah, that'd be a strange
courtroom though, wouldn't it?

Would you offer John Wayne
Gacy a pardon for the murders

just because he brought joy
to children as a party clown?

No.

See, when you have
to pass judgment

on the evil someone's done,

the good they've
done is irrelevant.

Just seems cruel.

I'll tell you what.

If you got a better
idea, tell me.

What about karma?

So simple.

Why didn't I think of that?

What is that, like
a point system?

Why not?

You tell me.

What do you tell the person
who is one point away

from getting into heaven?

I'm so sorry, Ms. Fillmore.

If you did just picked
up your neighbor's kids

from soccer practice
one more time.

Well, eternal
damnation for you then.

Is that more fair?

I would make an exception.

What about the people
who are two points off?

Three?

We back to everybody gets in?

Okay, fine.

It's a firm line.

I get it, God has to
make tough decisions.

But fair is fair and
one point is one point.

Wow, that's very
bureaucratic of you.

Critics might call
you legalistic.

So now, what about the
guy who's done good

his entire life, right?

But molested a child
a couple of times.

I'm sure his karma score
would be pretty high.

You let him in?

Maybe especially
bad crimes have

a one strike and
you're out rule.

That's an idea, there you go.

What are these especially
bad crimes then?

You know, cold
blooded murder, rape.

Why those?

Because they make
you a bad human.

They destroy people.

Yeah but what about liars
and bullies and thieves?

Don't they hurt people?

They destroy people too, right?

I mean, yeah, but if you
did away with the murders

and the rapists, then
that's a good start, right?

Good start, yeah.

But an eternal paradise
is finished, isn't it?

When you imagine
yourself in a place

where you can have
your stuff stolen,

where you can't take
people at their word,

where you can be made
to feel bad or inferior,

are you imagining
yourself in heaven?

No.

There's the rub.

We want an eternal place
of perfect goodness.

Any bit of evil destroys
what we're working towards.

But that would mean
that telling a lie

and murder are equal.

I never said they were equal.

Think about a deck of cards.

Would did anybody say that a
King and a three are equal?

Of course not.

What happens if we
build a house of cards?

Any card removed from
that delicate tower

and it'll collapse.

It doesn't matter if
it's a King or a three.

This is just making
it sound impossible

to judge a person's
moral choices fairly.

Oh, it's possible.

It's just really bleak.

If I judged you all fairly,
no one would get in.

I'd be alone in paradise.

I may as well have
not created anything.

Trust me.

You don't want my fairness.

You want my mercy.

You said that life was
a screening process, yeah?

A test?

Mhmm, I did.

So then what's the
point if everyone fails?

What are you doing here?

If everyone is on
an equal playing field

of moral disqualification,
then maybe, maybe.

That's not the most
important part of deciding

who can get along in heaven.

It's not a moral test.

Bingo.

Okay, well then

what about all the people
who spend their lives

trying to be good?

It just doesn't matter.

Practically speaking,
it matters a great deal.

It makes the world
a better place.

But nobody chooses to be
that way 100% of the time

or for the right motives.

At least not in a way
that could allow someone

to earn heaven.

Even little things,

like hiding a smoking habit
come from a heart that deceives.

Wait, you know I smoke?

Does Michael know I smoke?

Nope.

Then why didn't
you just start there,

if you wanted me to believe
you this whole time?

You would have assumed Michael
smelled it on your clothes.

You trust me or doubt me first.

Then you block out
what doesn't fit.

That seems so petty, though.

I mean, I'm damned because
I'm not vocal about my vices?

That's just one small fruit

that grows in a heart
composed of evil soil.

One that serves itself,

not one that loves and
trusts others first.

I see what you would do

if this societal shackles of
law and order were let loose

and you could do anything
that you desired.

It's in everyone to some degree.

It doesn't really bode well

for what you would
do in paradise.

I need people that will
retain perfection voluntarily.

It's a blessing that
this isn't a moral test.

You let terrible evil
things happen to us,

and then you just take the ones

who suck up to you
into heaven, hmm?

Hmm.

That's some Job shit.

If anything, you're
all like Adam and Eve.

You remember them, don't you?

You damned all of humanity
because they ate an apple.

That's not exactly the
point of that illustration.

Do you have any more ideas on
how to restructure my universe

or you got time
for a quick story?

Go ahead.

I'm playing the long game.

In the beginning, I gave
humanity a prototype

for the paradise
that I'm building.

A world separate from mine,

where they could
do as they pleased

without destroying heaven.

So the question on the table is

how do I sort out those

who can get along
peacefully in heaven?

I gave them the bare
minimum required for a test.

Something they weren't
permitted to do,

but the freedom to do it.

The story you're familiar with,

the tree of the knowledge
of good and evil.

I set things up so that
eating from the tree

would allow humanity
to behave imperfectly.

It gave the choice
if a person chose it

to commit evil.

I explained to them
in no uncertain terms

that eating from the tree

would bring only
suffering, only death.

It wasn't a moral test,

since, well eating from the tree

would have awakened the capacity

for there to be morality
in the first place anyway.

It was a test of whether or
not my people trusted me.

It could have been anything.

The point was,

if they trusted
me and no one ate,

no evil would enter the world.

No suffering.

Trust isn't trust
unless it is given

in spite of a reason to doubt.

So I gave The Adversary
a voice in the garden.

He told them I could be lying.

He said seek certainty
over trusting my word.

And that's what they did.

You'd hope it wouldn't
be the first people.

You know, maybe we get
a few generations in

before it all falls apart, but

right away, the cards collapsed.

And as a result, all
of their descendants,

you...

are imperfect and broken.

You can have paradise
back tomorrow

if you all collectively chose it

but there are none
among you who truly do.

You can all choose evil.

Hmm.

And at some point you
at least dip your toes

into its waters.

So what's left is this system

where you're faced
with the same decision

that the first people once had.

Do you trust the voice of faith

or the voice of doubt?

It still doesn't seem fair.

I mean, Adam and Eve
didn't have to guess

whether or not you even existed.

It clearly didn't
help, did it?

They still ate.

The test remains the same,

as long as there are
equal voices of trust

and doubt.

Okay.

I'll bite.

Unfortunate choice of words.

I meant figuratively.

Ah, carry on then.

So you take the ones who
trust you into paradise.

Yup.

I get that.

But if we're all evil anyway

how come we don't just
fuck heaven right back up

once we get there?

I restore your shattered
perfection after you die.

I give you the same choice
the first people once had,

to choose to be perfect.

By making up heaven of
those people who trust me

I've decided for the ones who
wouldn't eat from the tree.

People who will keep within
the boundaries of goodness

that I've set because,

well, because they
trust me when I say

certain things will
only unleash suffering.

The rules aren't just there
so I can exert my authority.

Okay, fine.

So you get your perfect
kingdom one day.

But in the meantime it's pain.

You make us look into
the face of evil.

You watch us starve,

and contract disease,
die violent deaths.

And yet you continue
to put us here.

And then at the end of it

not even everyone
gets into heaven.

So no matter your reasoning,
you gave us suffering.

How does that not
make you a monster?

If your child has leukemia,

are you a monster for putting
them through chemotherapy?

Is the doctor?

No.

What if there isn't
a 100% success rate

in healing them?

Then are they monsters?

No.

So sometimes, sometimes,

is suffering necessary to get
from unhealthy to healthy?

Do you sometimes have
to subject yourself

or someone that you love
to temporary suffering

maybe only on the
hope of a chance

at a long-term benefit?

Maybe.

Yeah.

Mhmm.

Okay, but then

what about things
like earthquakes

and wildfires and hurricanes?

You're going to pin
that on human morality?

Are you grieving
that the world

isn't as it's supposed to be?

Me too.

We both know that
perfection is the standard.

We're offended when that's
violated, aren't we?

When humanity decided to
cut itself off from me,

I stopped micromanaging
your world.

Without my divine nature,

natural processes can do damage.

Can't always be 72
degrees and sunny.

A pot abandoned on the
stove will boil over.

The echoes of shattered
perfection are loud,

but you can only grieve
for a rod bent out of shape

if somewhere in you, you
know it ought to be straight.

We can talk about
this all night.

We can talk about
everything that I've done,

am doing, and will do.

You can analyze
it tirelessly, but

that would be making a decision
based upon your judgment.

And in all honesty,

I'm not worried about what
your judgment call is here.

You don't really have the
perspective to make one.

What I'm wondering is,

do you trust me?

How can I?

How can I trust a person and
a plan with so much darkness?

The same way that
a mother trusts

that the pain of childbirth

is worth the bringing
in of new life.

I cannot build this
without labor pains.

But I've determined that this
is the best possible scenario

to craft the best
possible reality.

Okay but why does the
best possible reality

have to have a hell in it?

Yours wouldn't huh?

No.

I couldn't torture
people for eternity

and then feel like I had
the moral high ground.

I am the source
of all that is good.

When someone decides
they don't want me,

I give their eternal soul

its own place after
death without me

as they've desired.

What do you think a place
devoid of all goodness is like?

Torture.

Hell.

Exactly.

I didn't make hell
to torture people in.

People become hell.

And I give them their own
domain separate from heaven.

They reject the antidote
for the suffering

in their own heart

and choose to live
in that for eternity.

I don't torture people in hell.

You don't blame a warm fire
for the coldness of the people

who choose not to sit beside it.

I'm trying to process this.

It's a hell of a lot to take in.

I'd advise you not
to take your time.

Tomorrow only grows closer.

Yeah, okay.

It's just a lot of pressure.

I need to wrap my brain
around everything.

Gabrielle.

Do you trust with your
brain or your heart?

If you'd grasp that,

maybe your clock wouldn't
be ticking so loudly.

I love you, Gabrielle.

Hmm?

I know, I just,

I think that I do.

It's just a lot
for me to say it.

Huh?

What do you mean?

What do you mean?

I asked if you like the wine.

You did?

Yeah.

Oh right, yeah, you did.

Yeah, I do like it.

Why was it so hard for
you to say, goofball?

No.

No, no!

Okay.

Tell me it didn't happen again.

It didn't happen again, right?

He was here.

Gabby, Gabby, we
have to go then.

- No, no, no.
- Help me clean up.

- I'll clean up,
- No, Michael.

- It's real,
- Pack the car

- and we'll leave.
- It's all real.

We had this long talk

and it's fascinating
and frightening.

I don't know if it's nothing

- but I feel much better.
- It's not God

- that's talking to you.
- Yes it is.

He didn't leave.

I still have a chance,

- I still have a chance.
- Oh, stop it.

Stop it!

God exists.

There is an order, there's
this good out there

and all this bullshit-

- That may be, that may be

but God's not talking to you.

Yes he is.

I know you don't
believe it, but I think-

- Shut the hell up!

I'm trying to tell you
something, so listen to me, okay?

I haven't been honest with you.

I lied about my
deepest darkest secret.

I mean, the plane story happened

but I have a history of
mental illness in my family.

My dad had schizophrenia.

I showed some of the
early signs of it.

Delusions of grandeur,
disorganized thinking.

Junior year of
college, I dropped acid

and it all clicked for me.

I thought I was special
because I was God.

I had just somehow forgotten.

But now...

Now I remembered and slipped
back into this God persona.

It took months of
hospitalization and therapy

for me to get back in
touch with reality.

And I've always worried
that my grasp on it

was not as strong
as it once was.

That's what's happening here.

No, that can't be.

I'm telling you
this isn't real.

I could be consumed
by this persona.

And who knows if I can
come back this time?

I'm afraid, and
you should be too.

I'm not afraid anymore.

You, you don't know
what this is, I do.

And it's nothing like psychosis.

I have a history of it.

That's a coincidence.

Maybe it's my God chose you

- for this in the first place.
- Stop, stop.

Because your brain
was already open

- to speaking for him!
- Stop justifying my illness.

Okay, you're smarter than this.

Or maybe it's because you
really are God, Michael.

Maybe that's true.

Hearing you say that I'm God

is not what I need to
hear right now, okay?

You need to take me home.

Stop buying into this fantasy
and get me out of here.

God said that you
wouldn't understand.

He said that I would
have to tell you,

but he's really
here, I promise you.

How are you this fucking dumb,

you dumb bitch?!

You're buying into the
ramblings of a madman!

You understand that?

Pack your fucking bags,

put them in the fucking car,

and drive me the fuck home!

I didn't know you were even
capable of speaking to me

- like that.
- Yeah and I thought

you were a reasonable person.

Instead, I'm learning
how selfish you are.

You're making my
breakdown about you!

I don't know what's happening
right now exactly, but

I do know that you're
at least Michael

right now in this moment,

and I am disgusted with you.

Good.

All the more reason to leave.

I have no interest in
sitting in a car with you

for six hours right now.

I'm sleeping downstairs tonight.

Clean the place, pack the car

and I'll take you
home in the morning.

Yeah, hi, is this Diane Hausman?

Right, of course.

This is Gabrielle Russell.

I'm actually dating your son.

No.

I know it's late, but it's
actually kind of urgent.

I wouldn't have
woken you otherwise.

I think so.

I think so.

I just learned some parts
about Michael's past

and I was hoping you could
give me some more information.

Just like the stuff
with your family history

with schizophrenia and his
hospitalization a few years ago.

Michael's dad has
schizophrenia, doesn't he?

No, that's okay.

I would assume you
knew if he did.

But Michael did have like a
breakdown in college, right?

It's not important.

Yeah.

Yeah, I guess that's
what must have happened.

One more thing.

Do you trust Michael?

No, I'm not asking if
you have a reason not to.

Do you trust him?

Yeah.

Definitely.

Good night.

Oh m y god.

I didn't know you smoked.

Yeah well I guess we're
both learning something

on this trip, aren't we?

What are you doing
sneaking around in my room?

I didn't have any of
my stuff downstairs.

I wanted a cigarette, sue me.

And where does my phone
factor into that exactly?

Yeah.

Not as graceful as
you thought you were.

I called your mom, okay?

I know.

Know what?

That you're full of shit.

Your dad isn't a schizo,
you were never hospitalized.

You're gonna believe her?

My mom's a lying cunt!

She's saving face.

She doesn't want
any mental illness

sullying up that
good family name.

That's not true.

She was legitimately
concerned when I asked.

It did not sound like she
was sweeping something

- under the rug.
- Then clearly

she didn't know!

How would you know
that about your dad

but his wife wouldn't, huh?

And how could you hide months

of a mental break and treatment?

Look, I don't know what
you're trying to accomplish

with all this, but I
know you are lying.

I know, and you were not
going to pull this over on me.

Well aren't you the world's
greatest detective, huh?

Look I don't
know what the hell

you could possibly be
getting out of this.

The man I fell in love with

is just another one of
your personas, isn't he?

Because you're even
less like yourself now

than when you're God!

You're not my boyfriend.

You know, I was
being sarcastic before.

Maybe you are a
decent detective.

Hell, I'll even give you a
genuine clap this time, huh?

Who are you?

Hey, God's not the only person

that could pull this trick.

Granted we use

- different methods
- Who are you?!

But the end result

- all the same!
- I asked you

who are you?!

You know who I am!

No, no, you can't be.

Yeah?

You think your pussy-whipped
fag of a boyfriend's

got the stones to
talk to you like this?

What?

You scared of me?

No.

I just hate you, I
want my boyfriend back!

Oh, you hate The Creator.

Don't pretend you hate me too.

We're allies in this thing.

You and I, we're old pals.

I don't know if you
really are the devil

or if you're just some
other personality,

but I don't want anything
to fucking do with you!

Why?

Is it because
you're scared of me?

Think I'm dangerous,
think I might kill you?

Is it 'cause you know it's
Sunday and you might die?

Tick tock, tick tock!

Tick tock.

Holy shit, holy shit.

Yeah, that's
exactly what this is.

Some holy shit.

What are you gonna
do with that huh?

You're gonna kill Michael?

Go ahead, bitch,
I'll still be around.

Your precious
boyfriend will rot here

while you rot in hell!

How confident are you that
this isn't really happening?

Yeah, why don't we
bury the hatchet?

We've got an eternity
to spend together!

We're not spending
an eternity together.

Oh yes we are.

The last time you
talked to the chief

you may as well have
spit in his face.

It's game over honey!

I'm here to collect!

Face it.

Your time's up.

You had your chance
and you blew it!

Hey, look at you?

Huh, thought you said
you weren't afraid of me.

It don't matter.

You're afraid of God,

you're afraid of me.

I think maybe you're just weak.

Fuck off, asshole.

I knew
you were my daughter.

God's little boy scouts don't
talk to people that way.

Hey, why don't you relax
while you're down there

and hear me out, huh?

I said
you can fuck off!

This
how you want to spend

the last few minutes
of your life, huh?

We can be chatting amicably,
preparing for hell.

I'm not some horn
beast, you know.

Mr. A to Z just
paints me that way

because I have the
audacity to be something

other than a yes man!

So why don't you
hear me out, huh?

Why don't you hear me out?

Never!

You don't have
a fucking choice!

How strong is Michael?

You think he can throw
you off of here, huh?

Oh, pretty strong, I guess.

I can definitely throw you over.

you're going to listen to me.

You're not going to sway me.

I don't have to sway you.

You made your choice.

Hell begins now.

This isn't my pitch,
it's your orientation.

God doesn't care about you.

Not unless you're
following his decrees.

That's all he is,

dos and don'ts.

And don't so many of them

are so fucking
inane and arbitrary!

The only thing he's building
is a cosmic dictatorship

where you are on your knees,

forced to do exactly as he says.

That sound like paradise to you?

Where I'm taking
you is the paradise.

Somewhere you can
do as you will.

That's the whole of my law.

You want something?

Take it, it's yours.

And nobody tells
you you're wrong.

Not even the celestial
homeowners association

that goes breathing
down your asshole!

Where do you draw the line?

I don't, you do.

And everyone else draws theirs.

And nobody gets to tell each
other who's right or wrong

because you're all gods.

If someone wants
to rape or torture?

Now, that's the right
of a god, isn't it?

To do as they please?

If you want to do something,

who's going to tell
you you're wrong?

That's the right
of a god, isn't it?

You didn't ask to be made.

Nobody did.

I sure didn't it.

Heaven's CEO made that
executive decision without us.

He's the one who chose

to bring about a life
rife with misery and pain.

Look around!

This is what happens when
something all powerful

just gets to
unilaterally create life!

It suffers.

Existence is an
oversight, a mistake!

But because some guy decided

that he had to be worshiped

or he couldn't spend an
eternity all the fuck alone,

he chose you to live among
the scum and the bile.

None of this should be here!

But since it is, I'm
here to save you.

I'm going to take
you out of that filth

in which you were created

and I'm going to make you a god!

Ain't that noble of me?

Huh.

The offer still stands.

Mmm.

Nothing about you is noble.

Oh.

I know your type.

You're just another
prick who can't stand

being told what to do.

A bully who loves
making people miserable.

You're not a god.

You're not going
to make me a god.

You know what, you're right.

I don't particularly like rules,

but I'm not in the habit
of tearing down fences

when I don't know why
they were put there.

So if his laws keep people
from being anything like you,

then I guess they're
there for a good reason.

If you're the opposition to God,

then God must be the
best possible thing!

It was a nice speech.

But you're still joining me.

And you'll like it
so much better there

from under the thumb of the
King's rules and regulations!

I've heard all about
hell and it's nothing

- like what you say!
- Yeah well

who'd you hear that from, God?

He doesn't know.

He's never been there
and neither have you.

Why don't you come
see for yourself?

Dear Lord-

- He's not listening!

Besides, you don't
want to go to heaven.

Don't you want to be
where your mother is?

I bet she could really
use a drink right now.

Four years down,

infinity to go!

Dear Lord!

Please, I don't care if
you save my life tonight.

Just don't let me
go to hell, please.

No more questions, I
trust you, I promise.

So please just take
me home, please.

This isn't over!

I'll see you on the other side.

I knew you were mine.

I love
you, I trust you.

I love you so much.

What's going on, where are we?

It happened again.

It happened again,
what happened?

A lot of things
but He was here.

Who was here?

God?

What?

How much weed did we smoke?

And then he was like, holding
me over the fucking balcony.

And I called out to God
and then he came back

and we hugged and
basically just professed

our love for each other.

And then you were
back, like really back.

The last thing I remember

is dancing with you
in the living room.

And you're trying to tell
me that was two days ago?

Wow, yeah.

Oh, I feel so nasty knowing I
spent so much time with him.

I even kissed him.

Well, you thought he was me so

I can't really hold
you responsible

for cheating on
me with the devil.

He's a subtle
bastard, that one.

I'm so sorry.

No, don't be.

It wasn't you.

That's a hard pill to swallow.

Listen.

I know this probably won't
mean much at this point

since I can't have more
than a few hours left, but

I want to spend the rest
of my life with you.

You have me,

for as long as that is.

Are you scared?

Of the transition, but,

I mean exchanging earth for
heaven can't be all bad.

I really, really love you.

I love you too.

Wow.

Oh wow.

God really does this?

Wow.

It's so beautiful.

He's so beautiful.

What was that all about?

I let him feel my
presence as I came through.

He was still struggling
with it for a bit.

What?

He gets to know
you just like that?

Why couldn't you do that for me?

I dealt with Michael
in his own way long ago.

He was tuned into me enough to
use him as a conduit for you.

I'm just letting the radio
hear the song it played.

You know, you embellished a bit

when you told
Michael what happened

Well, what can I say?

I have a flare for
the dramatic, I guess.

You made me that way.

If it makes you
feel any better

the drama you added,
it only conveyed

how all those things you
couldn't describe really felt.

It's not quite
the same as lying.

Hey.

Can I ask you something?

He lied.

She made it.

She's with me.

Really?

Mhmm.

He's such an asshole!

Yeah.

Yeah.

That's okay.

You can ask.

When does it happen?

If you don't
mind the spoilers,

61 years from this June.

Wait, but you said...

I thought I died this weekend.

You did.

On that balcony this
morning, the old you did die.

You're a new woman, Gabrielle.

You said I was going to die

like actually, like physically.

What can I say?

I guess I have a little
flare for the dramatic too.

I did make you in
my image after all.

Fair enough.

Although if you
hadn't come to me

he genuinely would have
killed you on that balcony.

But now...

Well, you can't leave yet.

You guys have a lot of heaven

to bring into this place for me.

Really?

Oh yeah.

You're on my payroll now, kid.

And I've got a
lot for you to do.

What do I have to do?

How will I know?

Is it going to be as scary

- or as dangerous-
- Hey.

Hey.

You trust me, right?

Completely.

Then you know everything's
going to be okay, don't you?

The
sunrise is beautiful.

Thank you.

Provided by explosiveskull
https://twitter.com/kaboomskull