All language subtitles for Fargo S03E10 Somebody to Love-eng

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That's right.

Just a few more.

We're nearly done here.

Police.

Oh, hello, who have I reached?

Meeker County Sheriff's.

I'm looking for Gloria Burgle.

- Speaking.
- My name is Larue Dollard.

I work for the Internal Revenue Service.

I am in receipt of the
documents you sent.

But I have a few questions.

Who is this?

Agent Dollard. IRS.

The envelope you sent was
addressed to me specifically.

You included a note.

IRS? I never sent anything to...

Well, it has your name on it.

Look, this is my last day, so...

Are you working a case involving
Emmit Stussy or Stussy Lots Ltd?

How did you get this number?

Again, it was on the note you sent.

Spreadsheets, uh,
contracts, loan agreements.

Not sure how you found me.

He's protected, I think, Mr. Stussy,

possibly even at the highest levels.

My investigation was
kiboshed last year from DC,

so, we should proceed with the utmost...

Look, Mr. Dollard. I don't
know what to tell you.

We did have a case involving
Mr. Stussy but...

Well, that case is closed now.

Deputy, I'm looking at evidence
of a vast financial conspiracy

involving blatant tax fraud

and the repurposing of corporate
funds for personal gains.

It looks like, in the last year,

Mr. Stussy has borrowed
upwards of $200 million

with the sole intent
of lining his pockets

and the pockets of his partners,
a Mr. Sy Feltz

and one V.M. Varga.

Say that name again.

Uh, V.M. Varga?

I'm not sure what the "V.M." stands for.

Don't move. I'll be right there.

Oh, wait. What's your address?

Two hearts,

three clubs, four spades,

five no trump.

_

_

Last one.

There.

Well...

You should be happy, Mr. Stussy.

Your first action item is complete.

The accumulation of wealth.

I'm just so tired.

It's perfectly natural.

You see it all the time in the wild.

The smaller animal going limp
in the jaws of the larger.

Genetic instinct.

At some level, food knows it's food.

Yes.

Oh...

The strategist. I was wondering
when you might call.

Yes, I have it.

All of it, as long as you
live up to your end of the...

Fine.

The same charming locale?

No, I'm not familiar with that
address but I'm sure I can find it.

Just so you know,

I will be coming with
what in military terms

is referred to as a "fire
team" so no business...

Back up. Back up!

My dear, I'm afraid
you'll have to excuse me.

Don't... Don't make me. I'll shoot.

I am not food.

No, of course not.

You lied to me.

There are no hordes coming.
No mongrel hordes.

It's you! No!

Now, now, now. No.

Now, come on.

Give Mr. Stussy some room.

He's earned the right to be testy.

After everything he's been through.

I'm done.

Give me back my papers and get out!

Are you a fan of progress, Mr. Stussy?

- Technology?
- No more talking.

You know, in the old days,
only the strong were rich.

It was all a question of
how much you could carry.

But then the Medicis invented banks,

and wealth and pornography.

This is what drives innovation.

Of course, technology has
other benefits as well.

Safety, for example, a safer
car, the artificial heart.

And, well, how a handgun
might be equipped

with a fingerprint scanner.

To keep it from being used
by anyone but its owner.

That's right.

You can feel it, can't you?

On the grip.

Go on, have a look.

I'll wait.

Progress in all things, you see.

All right, wipe everything.

We were never here.

- She called?
- Yeah, we have a stop to make.

This is a mistake.

No trace, I'm afraid.

We need those drives.

Vamanos.

Swango.

Swango.

- I'll go.
- No.

El Nino?

Two elevators.

_

It's yours.

_

What the shit?

Excuse me.

This is not... You can't just...

Thank you so much. Emmit, my dear Emmit.

How are you?

You look...

Well, I know this can't be easy for you.

You work for Varga.

All this time.

Like a fire door that leads
to another fire.

Emmit, you need to listen
to me very carefully.

The Stussy Corporation, having sold all
its assets this morning to Realignment

for $100,000, and may I
say, very generous of you,

but your company is now carrying a debt
load of over three hundred million.

You'll need to file for
Chapter 11 immediately.

But don't worry.

Your personal wealth,

the profits you've made as
a partner in this venture,

have all been carefully hidden. So...

Not all bad.

Mike and Mike will show you out.

And you're saying this proves...

Until 18 months ago, Stussy Lots was
a traditional real estate concern.

They owned two dozen
parcels around Minnesota,

ground and elevated lots.

They charged a standard fee for parking,

monthly rates and hourly meters.

Then the books show a
million dollar loan

from this company called Narwhal.

As far as I can tell, the
corporate ID number is fake.

So, four months ago,

new incorporation papers
were filed with the city,

adding V.M. Varga as a
partner at Stussy Lots.

British fella? About six foot?

Country of origin isn't
listed on the form.

But that sounds like the man that I met.

So, are we talking about
money laundering or...

That's what I thought at first, but no.

This is something different.

It's more of a leveraged
buyout or bleed out,

in which an outside entity
acquires a healthy company,

borrows millions of dollars in its name,

which is pocketed by the partners.

Then they sell the company,

now laden with debt, for
a fraction of the price.

And that's a crime?

Not when it's done properly. No.

What's that?

I was saying, morality aside,

one company buying another and
strip-mining it for profit

is perfectly legal as long as one
follows the letter of the law

and pays the appropriate taxes.

- Which they didn't.
- Correct.

There is evidence that every
dime borrowed by Stussy Lots

in the past four months
was funneled into

dozens of off-shore accounts in
the name of all three partners.

- Mr. Stussy, Mr. Feltz...
- And this V.M. Varga.

- Who blew in on the wind last year.
- That's how it looks.

Uh...

Oh.

Bur...

Burgle.

What?

We got five bodies on the third floor.

Gunfire in both directions.
Just straight up carnage.

Chief's thinking an ambush scenario.

Ambush by who?

Don't know him. But you're
gonna recognize the next one.

Told you.

Wait till you see who we
think the target was.

- It was her.
- What was?

Who sent the note to the IRS.

Connecting the dots, Nikki Swango.

- Why would she?
- They killed her man.

You need to issue a BOLO.

What are you gonna do?

Someone's gotta warn Emmit.

What now?

Oh, shit.

Shit!

Fucking...

Fuck.

Oh, jeez. Oh, jeez.

Are you as low as you can go?

What?

I asked if you still feel
you've got room to fall,

or whether this is bottom.

Honestly...

If you'd asked me yesterday,

I'd have said I couldn't go lower

than sitting in jail,

staring at a life behind
bars, or the electric chair.

But now, here we are today,

lower still.

Oh, I've been watching.

This Varga fellow plucked
you like a chicken.

But he's gone now.

So, I'm gonna finish the job.

Please, wait, I got...

What? Kids?

People who love you?

I don't think that's true anymore.

Type of man who would
poison his best friend,

kill his own brother.

No.

I didn't... I didn't...

- I didn't mean to...
- Oh, you didn't mean to. Oh.

See you later then.

At least, let me call my wife?

You smashed your phone.

Oh, yeah.

He's a kitten now, Ray.

In case you were wondering.

He's a...

I looked in his eyes.

My Ray.

Who never got to say goodbye.

Who you left bleeding on the floor,

sadness in his eyes,

your own brother.

Do it.

Shoot me.

Put me out of my...

"Though thou exalt
thyself as the eagle,"

"and though thou set thy
nest among the stars,"

"thence will I bring
thee down, sayeth..."

What?

"Though thou exalt
thyself as the eagle,"

"and though thou set thy
nest among the stars,"

"thence will I bring thee down,"

"sayeth..."

Shit. Back in your car. Move.

It's not... We're fine.

Not a parking lot, folks.

- Side of the road.
- I know.

It's kind of a long story,

but in the end of it,
we all go home, so...

Thanks for stopping, it's
real Christian of you.

Step away from the car, ma'am.

Is everything okay, Officer?

- License and registration.
- Of course.

You, too, ma'am.

Uh, my purse is in my
truck, you want me to...

Hold on.

There you go.

It's a lease.

So, it's registered to the company,
but it's my company, so...

Ma'am.

Stay put.

- I'll get the license.
- Officer.

- She's...
- Ma'am.

- I'm serious.
- You should, because she's...

- This is silly, I mean, we're just...
- She's got a gun.

- Sir, step out of the car.
- No.

I'm... She's the one you should...

Out of the car, now.

Damn it.

Ma'am, do not take another step.

Honest, listen, I'm not the...

She's the one, I'm
harmless, you should...

For Christ's sake, shoot her.

Okay, then.

So, I've been trying to decide what
to tell you about your grandpa,

his demise, the root cause.

He wasn't really my grandpa.

Listen to me, he was one of God's
creatures same as you and me.

And what happened to him,

that should never happen to anyone.

It was that stoner, you said.

It was and it wasn't.

And I wanna say more, I do,

but there's violence to knowing
the world isn't what you thought.

- And you're just a boy...
- I'm 13 now.

You're still a boy.

You've got your whole life to be grown,

only a few more years to be young.

So, for now,

just know that sometimes the world
doesn't make a lot of sense.

But how we get through it
is, we stick together.

- Okay?
- Okay.

Good. Eat your Popsicle.

Bless us, O Lord,

for this bounty we're about to receive.

Bless our family and friends.

_

We've had some dark times
and made mistakes, but...

_

Now we see the light.

- Amen.
- Amen.

Can you hand me those
carrots there, Stella?

- There you go.
- Thank you. Thanks.

Terrific.

_

How are you there, friend?

Good as new.

Here you go.

Look at us, together again.

Whoops, the salad.

Oh, shoot, it's in the fridge.

No, I'll go.

You want some?

- Chris Honeycomb.
- Gloria Burgle, Minneapolis office.

Are you sure it's him?

Face recognition picked him
up coming in from Brussels.

He's been here overnight.

Oh, that this was my salvation.

A weary traveler, I.

Agent Burgle, Department
of Homeland Security.

Ah, the nation state
defending its borders.

And me, a simple salesman.

What do you sell, Mr...

Rand. Daniel. I sell
accounting software.

In Brussels. Is that where you live?

Good Lord, no.

I'm a citizen of the air, Madam.

Moving, always moving.

You don't remember me, do you?

Surmise.

Because I haven't greeted
you, I don't remember you.

Do you?

We may have met once in my younger days.

Are you familiar with
the Russian saying,

"The past is unpredictable"?

- I'm pretty sure you made that up.
- Possibly.

But which of us can say with
certainty what has occurred,

actually occurred,

and what is simply rumor,
misinformation, opinion?

A photograph is considered
proof in a court of law.

Well, photographs can be doctored.

One's eyes can be deceived.

We see what we believe,
not the other way around.

Six people dead, including
a state trooper.

$200 million unaccounted for.
Those are facts.

And you at the heart of the morass.

What else am I supposed to see?

A man wakes up one morning
and decides to kill

four men over a certain age,
all with the same last name.

That didn't happen.

And yet, if evidence is collected,

if confessions are made,

if a verdict of guilty is
entered in a court of law,

then its happening becomes
as the rocks and rivers,

and to argue that it didn't happen
is to argue with reality itself.

Did you know Emmit Stussy was murdered?

Three months ago.

Killed in his own home.

Pitchfork peasants.

- What?
- I said,

it is a dangerous world
for men of standing.

Human beings, you see, have no inherent
value other than the money they earn.

Cats have value, for example,

because they provide
pleasure to the humans.

But a deadbeat on welfare? Well...

they have negative value.

So, ipso facto,

Emmit's death is more tragic
than the death of a wasteling.

That's...

You can't believe that.

Oh, it's true.

It's true whether I believe it or not.

Did you kill him?

Emmit?

From Brussels?

They got phones in Belgium, yeah?
E-mail?

Mr. Varga.

You're asking me if there
are phones in Belgium?

Let me tell you what's
gonna happen next.

Three agents from Homeland Security

are gonna put handcuffs on
you and take you to Rikers.

And then we're gonna charge you
with felony money laundering

and six counts of conspiracy
to commit murder.

And then I'm gonna go home to my
son, it's his birthday tomorrow.

I promised I'd take him
to the state fair.

You ever guess a pig's weight?

Or eat a deep fried Snickers bar?

There's no better way to
spend a Saturday in this,

our great American experiment.

So, while you're eating mashed
potatoes from a box in a dark room,

think of me among the
amber waves of grain.

No.

That's not what's gonna happen next.

What's gonna happen next is this.

In five minutes that
door is going to open,

and a man you can't
argue with will tell me

I'm free to go.

And I will stand from this chair

and disappear into the
world, so help me God.

Rikers and Snickers bars.

You'll see.

Agent Burgle.

Gloria.

Trust me.

The future is certain.

And when it comes, you will
know without question,

your place in the world.

Until then, we've said
all there is to say.

Any further debate would be
simply wasting our breath.

And if there's one thing I
can't abide, it's waste.

Goodbye.

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www.addic7ed.com

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