All language subtitles for SurrealEstate.S01E04.720p.WEBRip.x264-GalaxyTV.eng

Previously, on
"Surrealestate"...

I've got one thing

Protecting the God‐given,
market‐driven value

of your property from
anything in this world...

Or the next.
Don't even ask.

That should be
our company slogan.

None of the
others like me.

We need you.

The technical
term is telekinesis.

It happened to you
when you were my age?

I set things on fire.

Let them see
who you really are.

I bet they'll like her.

Brock moved out.

- Really?
- We're done.

If you like her,
you should make a move.

Advertise your product or brand here
contact www.OpenSubtitles.org today

Duncan.

Duncan!

You're beautiful, babe.

You're snoring, or making,
like, horse sounds.

Roll over.

Okay.

- Susan.
- Duncan! Welcome home!

A little bubbly for you guys
and a new little friend!

Settling in okay?

Mm‐hm.

Forget million‐dollar views ‐‐
this is priceless!

You guys must be loving it!

Sophie's a little
under the weather this morning.

Oh. I'm so sorry
to hear that.

She'll pull through.

You know, Susan,
we specifically requested

Cloud White on the ceilings,

but this seems

cloudy.

They didn't use Arctic Dove
instead, did they?

Surely not.

The seller's contractor received
your punch list last week.

Oh, look, I know you're
just the broker agent

Just the...?

Duncan,

I have had the honor of bringing
you and this property together.

Your ongoing happiness
is my personal responsibility.

I'm moved
to hear you say that.

Especially since you insisted
on writing that precise language

into the contract and
made our fees and commissions

contingent upon it.

Um, as for the paint?

It looks gorgeous, but I'll
check with the painter, okay?

Mm‐hm.

The water pressure
is atrocious.

It's like being drooled on
by an old person.

Oh, Susan. Hey!

Sophie! Are
you feeling okay?

I think it's stress.

Did Duncan tell you
the disturbing news

about the Arctic Dove?

Ah.

There is always
a tiny hiccup or two

moving into a new place.

These hiccups are temporary,

but the ocean outside
your window is forever.

Take it in.

Theme music...

*SURREALESTATE*
Season 01 Episode 04

Episode Title: "A House Is Not a Home"
Aired on: August 06, 2021.

So, here's the deal:

We always pretty much focus on
the high‐end custom market.

But just for a moment,
let us think outside the box.

Uhh, that's a lot of
boxes to think out of.

This is the
Somerset Estates,

a master‐planned community
where families live, work,

shop and play.

It's like they're
not so much a builder,

they're more like
a 3D printer.

What they are is volume.

And cash flow.

Yes! Thank you!
My point exactly.

Houses are built to
live in and not to look on;

therefore, let use
be preferred before uniformity.

So, are you
with me on this?

Always.

But Francis Bacon believes
you might be full of shit.

Anyway, the developer,
he reached out to me last night.

Greg Chisholm,

an old nemesis.

This is huge!

They move, like,

80 units a month.

Oh, not anymore.
Their volume is way down,

they're having
quality issues like crazy.

Their buyers are pretty close to
the torch‐and‐pitchfork stages

and they're getting killed
on social media.

Product liability lawyers
are probably

creeping out of their
coffins as we speak.

The developer... he is hitting
the panic button, big time.

So, why'd they call us?

Because, apparently,
somebody believes

that many of these issues
cannot be explained away

simply by shoddy workmanship.

I told him we would
check it out.

Can you handle this
without me?

My influencers by the sea
are turning out to be

very high‐maintenance.

And they are the ones
threatening to tear up

our contract, right?

In the nicest,

most loving way.

'Kay, you go ahead.

We got this.

Greg Chisholm.

Hello, Luke.

Been a while.

I didn't know you were doing
master‐planned communities.

Man's gotta earn a living.

But you'd know that,

working in that weird
little niche of yours.

Hope there's no hard feelings
over Balmoral Farms.

Another time. Another place.

So,

shall we get to it?

You guys want to take a look
around the neighborhood?

My people'd be glad
to show you around.

Thanks...

But we ride alone.

Understand you're
having some QC issues.

Our quality control protocols
lead the industry.

Our challenges
run a bit deeper.

Identical problems happening
at virtually the same time

here and here and here.

Windows shattering.
Floorboards splintering.

Genuine simulated granite

Formica countertops
splitting in two.

Not stuff you usually see
in quality‐built new product.

Luke, we're both
men of the world.

You know that with the
kind of volume we do,

corners get cut;
compromises get made.

There'll always be a few
whiny perfectionists out there.

How many complaints
are we talking about?

That is a buttload of
whiny perfectionists, Greg.

So, can you
help us out or not?

Why us? Why now?

My boss.

His wife's into crystals
and seances and yoga and shit.

Thinks there's something
more happening besides

bad construction.

Boss asked me about it;
told him I knew a guy.

Send me those files.

Complaints,
the development plats,

the site plans, the model
schematics... everything.

We'll do what we do
and we'll get back to you.

Look, Luke,

if you can help us
out here now, we can

make it worth
your while.

Like you did
at Balmoral Farms?

You picking up anything?

This feels like

the least haunted place
in North America.

We are looking for
wandering souls

in a soulless
environment.

Hardly seems productive.

That's why I like
the Donovan place.

It's a creepshow that dares
to look like a creepshow, right?

What?

Something odd.

Kieran! Tiffany!

Lunch is ready.

Ah!

Okay, where were we? Um... Items

twenty seven forward
are

incessant pounding noise;

light switches
have weird texture;

water pooling
on floors.

More like "seeps".

Just appears... it's not
like we're spilling it.

She knows, Duncan.

Well, I'm sorry, you asked me
to be more thorough.

Right, but you're mansplaining
what pooling is.

You know, it
really hurts me

when you just throw
that term around.

Sometimes it's just explaining!

With a penis.

Guys, let's just
get through this, okay?

Arctic Dove,
not Cloud White

and wobbly walls.

Sorry, I...

Ca‐can you unpack
that for me? Wobbly?

Every time I walk by
this mirror, it's, like, moving.

And it happens upstairs, too.

I need mirrors to be impeccable.
I'm an influencer, so...

Sophie,

they're your mirrors.

They work fine
everywhere else.

So the problem must be
with the walls.

Mm‐hm.

Let me look around;
take a few measurements.

Check a few colour chips.
And then let's talk.

So, we have what?

17 houses with
spontaneous breakages

and system failures.
Phil?

Dirt is clean.

No sign of
environmental engagement

or histocultural plangency.

Augie?

As we wandered
through the neighborhood

there was a sudden spike

in our Photoreactive
Terraform Analysis.

Multiple locations.

It vanished as quickly
as it appeared.

Well, we are
missing something.

How many different models
do they have?

Six.

All named after famous forts.

The Halifax. The Delaware.
The Independence. The Sumter.

The McHenry. The...

What?

Ah...

I thought you said
famous farts.

Can you put up
the aerial plat?

All the places that stuff
happened are marked with an X.

Can you overlay the location
of different models?

Bingo.

They're all Delawares.

So, here's what
I'm going to do:

some of these I can
get a contractor out

to fix right away.

As in tonight?

It's 8:30.

Tomorrow, probably.

Uh, the rest, um,
I'd like to bring to my team.

It‐it may be the property itself
has some eccentricities.

We'll get some experts
to sort them all out, okay?

We'd really
appreciate that.

Because we're still within the
five days to register complaints

so if they're not fixed...
we don't want to do this...

We'd hate to do this...

I would weep
like Dumbo's mother.

But, then we'd dry our tears
and I'd have the bank

stop the transfer of your fees
as specified in your contract.

Okay. Thanks, Susie Q!
Drive safe, okay?

Meg, you really know
how to pick 'em.

And bam! Into the ditch!

I had to call a tow truck.

And it was a guy on a horse?

We could have sold it as an
equestrian property.

Upped the price.

Ah, this place was
empty for years.

Run‐down cottage
on an overgrown lot

with a killer view

before the owner decided to
finally renovate... cash out.

We need Phil and August
up there to find out what...

really is

what?

Excuse us?

Remember when you told me it
was better for Phil and August

- not to meet clients?
- Mm‐hm.

Duncan and Sophie are
literally the clients

you were talking about.

Okay.

Tell them to take a few days
somewhere nice...

spa, hotel, whatever... on us.

And then we'll do our thing
while they're gone.

By the way,
my car's in the shop.

Zooey! It is your lucky day.

You get to drive Susan
out to the coast.

And leave her
for dead, right?

This is why
we don't have H. R.

Road trip!

Road trip.

So, here's the thing:

I still cannot fathom,
for the life of me,

why Luke hired you.

I mean,

Phil has those
amazing research chops

and August?

He can duct tape
a KitchenAid mixer

to a walkie talkie and use it to
summon a Sumerian trickster God.

And me?

Well, it's self‐explanatory.

But why you?

I'm a closer.

That's another way of
saying I'm profit.

You're overhead.

The Delaware.

That model's been nothing
but trouble since we built it.

Anything special about it?

Just the sunroom.

Our CEO was going through
an artsy‐fartsy period

and he ripped off...

that is, he was inspired by

the house that his partner
had designed for himself.

Stuck a big sunroom on the back.

At first, we called it
a "soothing solarium"

until the focus groups
pointed us toward

"inspiring conservatory".

You know, move in...
become a tortured artist.

Hang on. Here we go...

From the front it looks like
most of our other product.

But around the back and...

Boom!

Ese sold like crazy for a while,

but fell off fast.

Today's buyer values
multi‐functional spaces

and gourmet kitchens with
cantilevered eat‐in areas

more than inspiration.

Wonder...

Any chance in talking to the
original designer?

The partner?

They had a falling out.

He left.

I think he died
a few years later.

What about the original house?
Can you get me an address?

Probably.

Look, Luke,

if you find out what's causing
all this, don't mess around.

Kill it. Destroy it.
Send this thing back to hell,

or wherever these things go.

Make me a hero to my boss
and his whack‐job wife.

You help me parlay this
into a sweet promotion,

I'll make it worth your while!

Just get me
that address, okay?

Turn left and your destination

will be on your right.

You have arrived.

Go away!

Ooh!

You're Bernard Nightingale.

You talkin' to me?

Talkin'?

How's that work?

It's a long story.

Mind if I come in?

No. Not there.

You designed this, Bernard?

Bernie, please.

Yes, I designed it.

Very nice.

It's a hellhole!

I designed it

for her.

My fiancée.

Every inch,

every corner.

Just for her.

And the sunroom.

Lucy loved the sunshine.

What happened?

Six months after we...

moved into our forever home

she ran off with
my own brother.

I'm sorry.

It gets better.
It gets much better.

Not only did I have to
live in this place, but...

my old partner

the bastard ‐

he dug my plans out of the trash
and built more.

A whole bunch more!

Every one of them a knife.

A knife stabbing
into my guts.

You know, what you are
doing in here

happens at every house
like this.

Yeah, you know.

This house

full of misery.

So anybody who ever lives here
is gonna be miserable, too.

It's my pain,

but they're gonna
goddamn feel it!

This paint color is fine!

These people are insane.

Hey! There's people
working down here!

Geez.

Hey, these ninja puddles
are real.

Oh.

It's getting pretty late.
We should probably go soon.

Ah, Duncan and Sophie
complained about disturbances

at night.

Late.

Which we need to assess.

On site.

In real time.

Don't even joke about it.

It's a sleepover,
girlfriend.

Saw a liquor cabinet, right?

Oh, hells, yes.

Yeah. I'm going to kill Luke.

Working late.

I've heard that
you have something

you may need to dispatch.

Oh, I hope it
doesn't come to that.

Just a sad, old,
pissed‐off spirit

that can't move on.

I know the feeling.

I'm afraid he's
gonna hurt somebody.

Like a kid in
one of those houses.

Not on purpose,
but he's...

At the risk of invoking
an unpleasant memory,

I would remind you
of the Travis house.

Point taken.

Perhaps Phil and
I should come along?

Susan may need help
on the coast.

I'm going to need you
to stand by here.

Unless you run into
something unprecedented

this should do the trick.

I'm told that our client
requested that you...

quote...

send it back
to hell, unquote.

This should allow you to
instantly render the entity

to irreparable particles.

Death

beyond death.

If the moment comes,

don't hesitate.

You set him on fire?

No!

Just the draperies.

And the waste basket.

I melted his printer.

Ooh! I don't believe you.

Who knows about this?

Luke.

My mom.

The guys at a certain Del Taco
that is no longer standing.

I still don't believe you.

Ouch.

That Livingston guy.

God, he sounds
like the worst.

Ugh! I know, right?

But, at the time,

I still thought
that Bob Livingston

was my soul mate.

Sorry. What, you don't believe
in soul mates, either?

- Come on!
- Soul mates are...

purely mythical beasts.

Like Bigfoot.

Or Tom Cruise.

You just haven't
found him yet.

Have you?

Mm.

Kyle Sommer.

His family moved to town my
sophomore year of high school.

God, I was a completely
different person with him.

I was happier.
I was wittier.

I wore pastels.

Once.

See?

That's a soul mate.

I graduated
from high school,

I went away to college
and Kyle didn't.

Only found out later
that he'd hurt his back

working construction.

So, he started taking oxy
to handle the pain.

And my Kyle was never a
go‐halfway kind of person.

He started taking more
and then he started dealing

to pay for his habit.

Salesman of the month.

That was my Kyle.

Um,

he was dead by summer.

They buried him in his
letterman's jacket.

The same one I'd worn
all through senior year.

Mm.

So, if he was
my soul mate,

I guess I'm pretty much
out of the game.

To Kyle.

And all the other guys
who don't deserve us.

Mm.

I am going to go
sleep in the car.

You coming?

I am going
to stay here.

There could be some
pheranormal...

Phermanomal...

There could be
some spookies

I need to observe.

Mm‐hm.

Mm.

Shit!

No! No!

No! No!

I heard Zooey's car horn
and then...

they were gone.

They walked away?
Or, like, disappeared?

They were there and then

they weren't.

They looked mad.

Pissed off sailors.

I wonder why.

I coughed up about ten gallons
of water last night, so

I'm a little
out of sorts myself.

Did you save any of it?

Hm.

Okay.

Okay, I'll head to the
village historical society.

There's got to be something they
left out of the history books.

She looks so peaceful.

Almost like she's dead.

Hm. You wish.

Come on, Greg.

He's a sad old guy
with a broken heart.

What are we?
A non‐profit?

Blow him away!

I thought you didn't
believe in these things.

Who cares what
I believe in.

I've got a CEO with
a wife who believes.

I've got homeowners
who've just had trees fall

in their front yards and
their own personal earthquakes.

I've got lawyers using words
like criminal liability

and class action.

Luke, double your fee
and an ongoing retainer

if you off him now.

Be smart.

Hello.

Hey, August.

Who was that architect
you used to go skydiving with?

Come on, come on, come on.
Pick up. Pick up.

A lighthouse?

Th‐the only lighthouse
is miles up the coast.

No! This is
the old lighthouse.

They tore it down in 1887!

But it was right there!
Right where you're standing!

Freaky.

So, it's this foggy day in
1811 and the lighthouse keeper

decides to go into town
to see his wife.

He must have fallen asleep,
I guess,

because he wakes up with her
in the middle of the night

and realizes, "Oh, god!
It's pitch black".

So, he's‐he's racing his horse
to the lighthouse

because he's gotta
light the lamp.

It's dark as the grave,
you understand.

I mean, there isn't even
the moon!

And then he hears
the most awful sound.

Brace yourselves!

No. NO!

A ship comes in too close.

They can't see, right?
No lighthouse.

No moon.

So it crashes on the rocks.

Nearly a hundred souls lost.

- Oh, God.
- Yeah.

People living in the house
after all of these years

must have triggered,
like, something.

Started it all over again.

The sailors are coming!

They want revenge
on the tardy horseman,

but they will settle for you!

Oh, perfect.

And there's nothing we can do?

Yeah! You can
get out of there!

So, if the vengeful sailors

don't fill our lungs with
seawater and kill us,

the influencers will unleash
their Twitter mob.

Kind of a coin toss.

We're staying.

You're staying?
Oh, my god. Okay, um...

Okay, okay, okay.
This is what I need you to do:

I need you to find a very big,

very bright light
in the house! Like right now!

The brightest thing
you can find...

a spotlight, a sunlamp...

and you need to get it up
on the roof, as high as you can!

There's really not...

You need to look like
a lighthouse right now!

Ohh!

Wha...? This is the
brightest you found!?

It has a three‐colour option.
That has to count for something.

We have to get it
up on the roof!

Seriously? Susan,
the cord is way too short!

We'll never
get it up there!

- Wait here.
- What?

Heave!

Heave! Heave!

All hands!

Heave!

Heave!

Heave!

Hey! They're turning!

Susan, they're turning!

Heave!

We did it!

Wow!

That was...

impressive.

No, seriously,
we could, like,

rent you out for
Viking funerals.

If this were a movie,
this is where I'd bring in

Eternal Flame
by The Bangles.

I'm getting really tired
of looking at your face.

I sell real estate.
I get that all the time.

Leave me alone.

Every time I see you,

you're always in here.

Never in the
rest of the house.

This is the sunroom.

It was her room, right?

The room you
built for her.

Look at this.

Ttle coffee?

Mm. No, thank you.

Greg Chisholm.

Susan Ireland.
I'm Luke's associate.

Lucky Luke.

So, where is he?

Greg. Thanks for coming.

So, did you fix
my little problem?

Oh, I think so.

The solution is simple.

It's not easy,
but it's simple.

Sunroom of the Delaware
was Bernie's gift

to the woman he loved.

She should burn in hell!

But, uh, Greg, the problem is
is that this sunroom

was part of a design
that your company

unlawfully acquired
from Mr. Nightingale

and exploited.

Now, this is a
huge problem, Greg.

But... he's dead.

Copyright protection
extends 70 years

beyond the death of the author.

So suck it!

Your company can owe
Mr. Nightingale's estate

millions of dollars
in royalties and penalties.

But I think we found a solution.

Phil?

We propose a retrofit
to every Delaware standing;

an extra room,

the multi‐functional space
today's buyers are looking for.

Ain't that right, Greg?

Bottom line:

no more places like this one
on the face of the earth.

No more quality issues,

except the ones
resulting from your own

lousy workmanship.

No more synchronized shitshows
for your homeowners.

Now, you make these
modifications

in the next 30 days
and we don't sue you

into the stone age.

Everybody wins! Heh!

This is about
Balmoral Farms, isn't it?

Do we have a deal or not?

You can forget about your
double fee and your retainer

and you will never work
for us again.

Oh, our final invoice
is in the mail.

But Greg?

Before you go to sleep at night

you might want to take
an extra look under your bed.

Now, see, doesn't that feel...?

I'm glad you didn't
molecularly deconstruct

a sad old man.
He moved on so easily.

Unfinished business.

And the influencers
paid in full.

They're temporarily happy.

Would have been nice to
get some of those

sweet Somerset commissions.

Principle isn't a principle
until it costs you something.

Plus, this guy once told me,

"They always come back."

Wise man.

He has his moments.

Luke,

what the hell happened
at Balmoral Farms?

Remind me to
tell you sometime.

Hey!

Not on time,
but less late.

Baby steps.

Look...

Luke, I know what this is.

A meal out in public,

gear down,
let's stay friends.

What'd I miss?

Everything.

My intentions,
my explanation.

It's just...

I knew I should have put
together some Keynote slides.

Are you hungry?

Not in the least.

Let's just walk.

Can we just walk?

So, you don't want
to come to my house anymore.

How do you feel about that?

It's just too much.

I don't want to see you
in the same place where she is.

- It's too weird.
- Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah, it is.

I realize that living
in the past is toxic.

I spend my days trying
to help lost souls move on.

Maybe I should take
my own advice.

I guess we'll have to
go to your place then.

Which, I believe,
is on the left.

You want to come up?

Do you want me to?

So much it's scary.

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