All language subtitles for You S02E06 Farewell, My Bunny

Who here among us really knew Henderson?

The famous belong to everyone
and none of us.

Well, I knew him pretty well, I think.

One time, before I was
about to go onstage,

some dude comes over
and dumps wine all over my front

on purpose.

Well, Hendy sees this,
and what does he do?

Number one,
he punches the guy in the face.

Number two, he took off his own shirt

and gave it to me.

And number three,

he pulled this perfectly clean bra
out of his pocket

and gave that to me, too.

Oh, by the way, that was
during his comedy prop era, of course.

I think.

The point is,
I don't care where he got the bra...

I heard they found his body
in a sex dungeon.

Come on, Gabe.
Don't kink-shame the dead.

No, I'm not, okay?

But I loved him. You know why?

He was real. Damn it, Hendy.

A tale told by an idiot...

She's still here,
hanging on like a sucker fish.

Embraced by your friends.

Everyone's happy you get a break
from your gig

as Forty's primary caregiver,

but I will be victorious
in this war she has waged.

Stop her permanently.

Not Henderson permanently,
that got away from me.

But permanently nonetheless.

I swear to God, if they ever find
the cowardly shit stain who did this,

I'm going to bash his fucking head in.

- Forty.
- I know this is hard,

but you need to find a silver lining,
bunny.

Bunny. What an absurd nickname.

I used to find it sweet.
But it's not sweet. It's psychotic.

A bunny boiler is what she is.

He was murdered, babe.

When my ex attacked me,
it was the worst day of my life.

But I didn't lay down and die.

I came out stronger.

That's the thing with tragedy.

It makes you live for the now.

Yeah. Live, for now.

No, this can be managed.

Move in with me, Ames.

Ditch the B and B, and be my hausfrau.

Forty...

maybe it's not the best
to make big decisions

when you're grieving, you know?

Can you just let me have this? Please.

Like...

I can't be here, okay?
I, like, need some matcha.

Forty.

I think Vampira is buried right over here.

Speaking of which,
I spy the coveted third totem.

- What?
- What?

- Where?
- What's happening?

Wham and bam, girls.

Oh, my God. I think you're right.

Oh, both wearing the shit
out of that pink lacy dress.

Oh, my God! You got number three!

- Right.
- Yeah!

What's number three?

Oh, right. You're new here. Okay, so...

We have this theory...
well, it's actually Gabe's theory,

which is that Los Angeles
has seven totems,

and once you find all of them,
you're officially an Angeleno.

- And can never leave.
- Yeah.

We all found them ages ago,
but Lucy never found the dress one.

- Hey, till today.
- Yeah.

- No, this one can count for you, too.
- Oh, great.

Stuck in LA forever,
what could be better?

Are you all right?

- You seem...
- Like a guy attending the memorial

- of a guy he just killed?
- ...pensive.

- I have to keep it light for you.
- It's funerals.

Of course. Yeah.

So, what are these totems?

Got it, lovely. Thank you. Number one,

a rollerblader in booty shorts.

Number two, a ghetto bird.

Police helicopter.

Number three, two starlets wearing
the same dress, as observed.

- Number four, a pack of coyotes.
- Oh, yeah.

Right? Yeah.
Number five, a dog in a stroller.

Number six, an off-brand superhero.

But out of context,

not in front of Grauman's
'cause that's too easy.

Yes, of course. And number seven,

a palm tree on fire.

- Yes.
- Right.

- Sounds intense.
- Yeah, they are.

Of course Delilah is here
with a flask.

This must be hard on her. That's my fault.

But I saved her sister from far worse.
This I know.

Especially in the rain.

Hey, I gotta pop by work. So, later?

A celebrity has died suspiciously.
They'll work harder to solve it.

Did I do enough at the scene?

Is there a problem, Officer?

Little late to be taking out the trash.

- For Goodwill.
- Hey.

Yeah. Okay. I'm sorry. Of course.

I wolf you.

I wolf you so hard.

Okay.

Bye, guys.

- Bye, Lovey.
- Bye, babe.

Thanks to Forty, I have new intel.

Candace has an Airbnb.

She needs a place to lower the mask,
to be herself.

I'm going to find it,
and when I do, Hollywood ending.

Happy anniversary, Mr. Kennedy.

Happy anniversary, Mrs. Kennedy.

If you ever legally change it, that is.

I'm getting around to it.

I know, I know, it's not feminist.

I want to.
I want our kids to have it, too.

Proposition?

Go ahead.

It's been a year.

Let's do it, while we're young.

And then when we're in our 40s,

we can drive around
in a big painted van

like the Partridge Family.

Well? Thoughts?

If we know what we want, why wait?

I want adventure. Risk.

We can have both.

For example, I heard
the new walk-in's not hooked up yet.

Does it lock from the inside?

Anyone could walk in.

That does seem risky.

What Candace and I had was
never real. I'm certain of that now.

The way she lies. Effortless.
Like breathing.

I feel bad for Forty.
He can't resist her Lolita act

any more than I could.

Is she sleeping with him?

Or did she make up some lie
to get out of that, too?

Maybe she's decided it's an acceptable
price to pay to ruin my life.

Or maybe they're in love.

One upside
to Forty's constant online pleas

for validation is it's easy to figure out
where he's gonna be, any given time.

He's on his way now
to play Dungeons & Dragons

at Joe Manganiello's house.

He's been tweeting about it incessantly
for a week.

So what's it gonna be, bunny?

Do we tango here, or...?

Elsewhere it is.

The air feels charged.
Santa Ana winds.

Anyone with a lick of common sense
would get the hell out of this town

before it's too late.

But not us. We had a date with destiny.

I'm reading too much Chandler.

Where is she going in such a hurry?

Is she meeting someone?

That is a cop.

Probably unrelated,
but I can't be too careful.

Shit. Okay. It's possible
I'm the tiniest bit paranoid.

Shit. Candace one, me zero.

- What's up, Ellie?
- Hey.

- What you reading there, Will?
- Oh, Chandler.

Nice one.

You should really watch the film, though.

Robert Mitchum
is my second-favorite Philip Marlowe.

Okay, who's your first?

Just so I know who to picture when
I'm staring at the boring little words.

Oh, Elliott Gould, of course. Sex on legs.

Probably still can get it.

I'm glad to see she's feeling better
after all that happened with Henderson.

Fuck me!

What happened?

I grabbed the fucking curling iron,
thought it was the brush.

- You okay? Run it under cold water. Here.
- Here you go.

One thing I know. When a traumatized
woman tries to keep it together

when she's actually falling apart,
this happens.

Is that better?

- Ellie, can you get me an ice pack?
- Yeah.

I saw you at Henderson's memorial.

Well, this feels like a trap.

- The woman I'm seeing, her brother...
- Love and Forty Quinn?

Yeah, I know who they are.

Forty used to take up permanent residence
in Hendy's anal cavity

before he was ejected
for being a junkie prick,

but far be it for me
to question the company you keep.

- I'm gonna go.
- Maybe, yeah. Just...

go and forget all about it,

just like everybody else is gonna do
after they're done canonizing him.

She's not wrong. Henderson
may have gotten what he deserved,

but in the eyes of the public,
he's a victim, a hero, even.

That's gotta sting.

I'm sorry, Will.

My sister's a little upset,
and she's also a bitch.

I'm taking all of them down.
Beginning with his succubus of an agent,

followed by anybody else
that turned a blind eye.

They're all complicit.

She should see a doctor,
but if I suggest it, she might injure me.

Okay, Jessica Jones,

four ibuprofen and a Xanny.

Take it down a notch, okay?
We'll watch a movie.

It sucks that she has to manage
her sister like this.

Will, maybe you wanna join?

Tonight we're gonna be streaming
the 1992 classic

- The Player, starring Tim Robbins...
- We have work to do.

You're a good sister.

I know. So, you in?

- Murder, Hollywood?
- She needs someone right now,

no matter how cool she's acting.

- Candace can wait until tomorrow.
- You got any popcorn?

'Course I do. I'm not an animal.

Oldest of sports.

Is it bisexual pescatarian week
again already?

- Man, time flies.
- What's D-FOL?

Dark Face of Love. The "the" is silent.

We are setting up a temp production office
in the back.

- Who's we?
- Me and Amy.

And you.
Giving you a producer credit, brohamulus.

Forty, I'm not qualified.

You're hilarious.

It's no pay, just points on the back end,

and as much festival poon
as you can schnorf.

He knows I'm dating his
sister, right?

Uh-oh.
Did you not get enough sleep last night?

I was up late.

Okay, well,

still need you to sign
the production contact sheet.

Okay. What's a loan-out?

You can just make something up.
Like, Bettelheim Productions.

Bettelheim Films. Bettel...

That name is really aggressive.

It's not gonna marquee well at all.
We'll brainstorm.

What's Amy's address?
She didn't fill it out. So I can do it.

I know it's in Echo Park.
I wanna say Loma Vista Lane?

I'm not sure what the number is.

That's a start.

All right.

First production meeting is 19:00.

All hands on deck.

Sorry, Fortinbrah, just made
other plans.

- Up for a road trip?
- Where to?

Glendora. It is a drive,
but the things that this donut shop does

with fresh strawberries
should be considered a sex crime.

That's intriguing.

Pick me up at six?

Okay. Two hours to get
the tactical advantage I need

to stop Candace. I can make this work.

Only two rentals on Loma Vista Lane,
and one isn't really her speed.

This feels more like Candace.

The Gothic Barbie dream house.

"Historic Victorian home
in Angelino Heights."

Private bathroom, balcony. Tee-pee access.

Rachel is a superhost
with a five-star rating

"who recently relocated to Berlin."

Cross-reference Google Maps,

and bingo.

Candace found me, I found her.

Toyota Camry. Same as yesterday.

I should listen to my instincts.
This is bad, Love.

Plainclothes cop?

Henderson? Maybe Will talked?

Jasper's associates got to him in Manila...
No, that's crazy.

Dr. Nicky hired a PI from prison.

What's he got on me? Oh, no.

This city is fucking endless.

If I can't disappear into all that...

No, Love, I don't want to disappear.

I want to eat donuts,
impress your parents.

Hear my name, my real name, on your lips.

Pack of... No, thank you.

Fucking LA traffic.
I'm so late for you, Love.

Is that the Toyota?

No. Oh, Love.

You're having me followed.

No. There has to be an explanation.

If you're gonna show up an hour late,
you should call.

She's furious,

or the doors are about to fling open
with an army of law enforcement.

It's hard to say.

I'm so sorry.

Hey, I don't do apology assault, Will.

You stood me up,
you'll get to apologize on my time.

Understood.

So far, so weird.

That doesn't look like the face of a woman

who just learned something
unspeakable about her man.

Maybe I should just...

Love...

Is everything okay?

I don't know. You tell me.

When I was walking up just now,
there was a man leaving here.

Yeah, that's Alec Grigoryan.
He's a private detective.

My family's been using him for years.

He was here, why?

Well, I hired him to look into Amy.

You trust me.

It's Candace you don't trust
because you are smart and true.

- But...
- Why wouldn't you say something?

It's not a big deal
unless he finds something, right?

I think hiring a PI
is actually kind of a big deal.

Not if you're a Quinn.

I can't believe you're being so casual.

I don't know why you're freaking out.
You don't even like her.

Would you ever hire someone to follow me?

I don't know. Why? Should I?

Who are you right now?

The thing is, people take advantage
of people with money.

It's just a fact, okay?

I'm not gonna apologize
for protecting my family.

Ever.

Privilege check, aisle one.

- I just think...
- What?

...we can barely afford to pay our bills
as it is.

How can we afford a baby?

My parents offered to help.

No.

We can pay them back, and...

The last thing I want

is for us to be in debt to your parents.

You promised we wouldn't accept

their golden parachute.

That was the deal.

Can we talk about this?

I don't feel well, Love.

You're just detoxing.

So let me do it in peace.

I just think...

I'm some spoiled rich girl?

Independent, but always have
a golden parachute if I need it?

- Well, yeah.
- It's not what I meant.

You did.

I'll call Alec tomorrow morning.

Tell him to stop following Amy.

I get how it's too much.

Okay? I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for missing our donut pil...

I told you,

don't apologize.

Salmonella?

- You're an idiot.
- Yes.

No secrets, Love. Please.

I really don't do well with secrets.

Barry. Okay, Barry,
don't be such a massive pussy.

Just match Ray.

Don't you want your name
on something relevant?

Something that matters,
something... Exactly.

Yes... Of course I'll tell my dad.

Thank you, Barry. Thank you.

Thank you.

Barry's in the bag.
Put him down for 100K.

Great. I have a hair thing.

Oh, okay.

Bye. Treasure you.

Fucking Barry.

Can I help you?

I'm looking for Will.

Oh, sorry. He's not home right now.

I'm Amy. You are...?

The building manager.

Oh, cool.

I love these old Deco places.

I'm glad Will opted for some charm
and not some soulless condo.

- How do you know Will?
- Friends.

But, you know, it's complicated.

You were at the memorial yesterday,
weren't you?

Yeah. Hence, complicated.

Will and I used to date.

He has a pair of earrings
I've been trying to get back.

- Do you think you could...
- Did you know Henderson?

Forty did.

His comedy really wasn't my speed.

And I don't mean to speak ill of the dead,
but he seemed kind of like a perv.

Oh, you can't actually come in.
It's against the law.

But what do they look like?

Like, dangly little green stones.

Do you have any idea where they might be?

Nightstand?

Okay, I'll go look.

So, are you from Brooklyn, too?

Not originally,
but that's where I met Will.

That's cute. Who followed who?

I'm sorry?

To LA. Did you follow him or him you?

We were already broken up

so more of a coincidence
that we both ended up here.

Well, I didn't find any earrings.

Damn it.

All right. I'll hit him up later.
Thank you so much.

Yeah, no problem.

- This is Love.
- Miss Quinn.

- Alec Grigoryan.
- Yeah, thanks for calling me back.

I've decided
I want to call off the investigation.

You can charge me for the whole day.

Well, I think you're gonna wanna see
what I found.

Can you meet?

Now that you've called off the dogs,

I can get back to the work
of getting Candace away from us.

- Hey, Casanova.
- I'm gonna keep walking, Ellie.

I'm just impressed.

Our little Will caught the eye
of heiress Love Quinn

and is sneaking around
with a secret ex-girl.

Did not think you had that much game.

Ex-girl?

I appreciate how you're not racist
towards gingers.

Ginger? What are you talking about?

Came by looking for earrings. Come on.

- That's, like, gotta be code for...
- Candace, here.

Listen to me. That woman, she's...

She's what?

- What?
- She's no one.

- You are so lying to me right now.
- Go home.

Hey, just because you're dripping
in hoo-ha doesn't mean you're all that!

Asshole.

Candace coming here crosses a line.
I need a new plan.

If you think about it,
she's already living on borrowed time.

She resurrected
like some sort of ginger vampire

to suck my life away.

Dealing with her is nothing
but balancing the cosmic scales.

It's not safe, her walking around free.

She's dangerous, not just to me.
To your brother. To you.

Night off. That works.

Seems bunny's home.

"Rope bondage." "Tight binding."
"Krav Maga"?

Candace!

Untie me, you... bitch!

I'm sorry,

what did you call me?

Not Candace. What?

Hi.

I just... I...

Just save your lies for the cops.

- No, this is not what it looks like.
- Oh, really?

Candace Stone?

You're not a film financier.
You're a waitress, barely.

Spent a good few weeks
in a mental hospital last year.

You have no money, no family,
no permanent address.

And so you tried to con us.

- Wouldn't be the first time.
- Love, okay, please...

The one thing I still don't understand
is what you want with Will.

His name's not Will.

- Jesus Christ, what...
- It's Joe Goldberg.

He's my ex-boyfriend.

I know this sounds crazy,
but I am telling you the truth.

He attacked me and almost killed me.

- He what?
- Yes. And he killed the girl after me.

Is this some kind of joke?

I wish it was.

I only came here to protect you.

Before you went to Austin
to date my brother or after?

No, to protect all of you.

But especially you.

If he loves you,

that's the most dangerous thing.

Take a look inside.

Now, bitch, what's your name?

Will.

Why did you break into my home, Will?

I didn't break in.

- I was just...
- Don't lie to me.

I learnt Krav Maga.

And I'm not afraid to use it.

I've made mistakes, but, oh my,
is this a new first prize?

The door was open.

Is an open door the same
as an invitation to enter?

I'm sorry.

- I asked you a question.
- Please.

Come on, Will. Consent 101.

Is an open door the same
as an invitation to enter?

No. No, it's not.

Who knows how to tie people
up like this?

This woman is clearly
some kind of perverted sex worker.

Not that I'm judging.

- Think.
- Think.

Who's Candace?

Amy... Adam. That's why I'm here.

I see.

And you were going to...

That's not what it looks like.

I was supposed to creep in
and surprise her.

In bed. She wanted me to tie her up.

- And, you know, it... This is...
- You're telling me

this is some kind of scene you negotiated?

We're both really vanilla, I admit.

But she keeps asking,
and I wanna be more GGG.

This is not the first time
she has flaked on me.

This is the first time I have been beaten
and tied up for it, though.

Jesus. You poor, pathetic boy.
You went to Home Depot.

Can I give you a piece of advice?

Maybe untie me first?

Don't try so hard. This isn't you.

You're not rape fantasy guy.

I'm not. Not even a little bit.

You're demeaning yourself, man.
Let me tell you something about Amy.

She's hardly been here
since she rented my room.

- I can hardly feel my hands.
- I know the type.

Come to LA with stars in their eyes,

but few, if any, have the talent
to make it.

So they starfuck.

You know, she's dating some douche-canoe
with a stupid name.

Forbes? Francis?

Idiot.

A lot of men in LA should just be taken
out of the gene pool.

Murdered by an unhinged dominatrix.

Remember me, Love.

I'm inclined to untie you.

But you try anything stupid,

and I throat punch you
with my Louboutin, dig?

Yes.

Yes, I dig.

Call yourself a Lyft, sweetie,
and get the fuck out of my house.

Candace two, me zero. Damn it.

It smells amazing.

It's a new recipe.

Taste?

That... It tastes...

Like shit?

- I'm sorry. It's salty.
- Yeah.

It's 'cause I used salt instead of sugar.

Sucks being lied to, huh?

What is this?

Open it.

Truth time.

Tell me it isn't you.

It's me.

Is your name Will Bettelheim?

My name is Joe.

Joe Goldberg.

- And Amy...
- Is Candace Stone. I know. I...

Why did she tell me
that you buried her alive?

- That's what she believes.
- Yeah, well, she also believes...

that you killed a woman,
and that you're basically Dexter.

Candace Stone is crazy.

Clearly!

But there also must be some grain of truth
because you look so pale right now.

So just tell me.

I can find out.

Anything. Right?

Unlimited resources.

Okay. Can...

Candace is the reason I left New York.

She's obsessed with me.

She destroyed friendships, relationships.

- I had to leave my job.
- Okay.

Say you're right. She's nuts.

What about the other girl?

Guinevere Beck.
The Dark Face of Love herself.

Yeah, that was tragic.

But we went out on one date.

My main takeaway

is she posted a photo of us
to make her actual boyfriend jealous.

I never saw her,

until months later
I heard she passed away.

You tell me how Candace knows
about that at all.

Why do you think I had no social media?

Why do you think I changed my name?

I wanted to disappear,
and she followed me.

I just wanted to be free.

And then I met you.

Love, I am so sorry I lied.

Why didn't you tell me...

the moment that she showed up with Forty?

I was terrified.

Well, I sent her away.

With a few threats, a lot of money.

So she's gone for real.

But fuck, Will.

Joe?

I don't even know
what I'm supposed to call you now.

Call me whatever you want.

Call me Will. You can call me Joe.

You can call me that fucking liar.

Call me in the middle of the night.

Call me happy, sad, sick,

for favors,

for sex, for a laugh,

a cry...

Don't ever stop calling me.

I have never loved anyone
like this before.

Me neither.

Which is what makes this so hard.

It's over.

How long have you...

How long have you known?

Eight weeks.

You've been keeping this from me
for two months?

You lied.

I wasn't ready to tell you.

Why?

Because of how you're looking
at me right now.

How am I...?

You look scared,
and it breaks my heart.

I just wanted things to be normal
a little longer...

before...

before they're never normal again.

You can't.

You can't be sick.

But I am.

It would be easy to blame Candace
for this,

and I do, but I blame myself too.

I broke my own rule.

But what is life without Love?

I guess I'm gonna find out.

Well, if it isn't Dr. Jekyll
and Mr. Douchebag.

I came by to drop off my badge
and my apron.

You don't have to quit.

I do, Forty.

Actually, you don't.

Look, Love told me everything,

and while we agreed
that you are a lying ball sack,

we also agreed

that you probably don't need
to be punished twice.

So just, like, stay out of her airspace
for a while. Okay?

Are you saying I should stay?

For now.

I went to bat for you.

Why?

Because it's nice having you around.

You're real.

You did lie about your identity,

but you are still more authentic

than half the fuckers I know.

Thanks, man.

If being Forty's bitch means I
get to stay in your orbit,

sign me up.

Like I said, he's not a bad guy.

You're not one
of those self-loathing Jews, are you?

- Spoke too soon.
- What?

Joe Goldberg.

Great name for a producer.

Will Bettelheim...

made you sound like a Nazi, so...

Thank you for giving me another chance.

And thank Love for me, too.

Land of second chances, am I right?

This can work.

I'll just go back to loving you
from a distance.

Life's a divine comedy.
A tale told by an idiot.

A sadistic idiot.

Speaking of sadists,

I'd endure a ten-hour session with Rachel

for just five more minutes
of you not hating me.

Please do something.

Hey, Delilah?

What?

It's worse than I thought.

How's it going?

How's it going?

This town enables rapists.

You mind if I take a look?

Wow. This is quite a who's who.

Oh, look, I made the cut.

Don't touch, please. Don't touch.

I'd be worried,
but half of Hollywood is up there,

including Johnny Carson,

who I'm pretty sure has been dead
for years.

This is a lot, Delilah.

You don't think I know that?

I'm trying to topple the patriarchy

from my two-bedroom apartment,

and it is, one, impossible,
and, two, deranged,

and I just want somebody to hurt...

like I'm hurting.

Is this okay?

Oh, look at you, asking for consent,
very fucking woke. Gold star.

I'm sorry he hurt you.

Palo santo and synthetic watermelon.

Odd combo, but it works.
Wise and irreverent, like her.

Will...

She's not in her right mind,
and neither am I.

This is bad.

So why doesn't it feel bad?

Okay, wait. You're upset.
Maybe we shouldn't...

I just want to feel good again.

Me too.

She needed someone.

I suppose it's the least I could do.

This whole thing that you're doing...

Is a lot.

And I have ten unpleasant phone calls
I need to get to, so...

- Maybe you should just go.
- Yeah, okay...

So, I have a thought aboutthat.

Chasing this story...

You know the story already.
It's your story.

- Are you saying...?
- I'm saying...

you go after the whole town
if you want,

but what if you tell your story?
Think about how powerful that would be.

It might encourage others to do the same.
You wouldn't have to chase them down.

They would follow your example
and come forward.

Did you just mansplain
and patronize me in the same sentence?

Thanks for the D, Will. Bye.

I gotta get out of this town, Love.

Can you believe this?

Seven totems.

And once you find all of them,
you are officially an Angeleno.

...and can never leave.

Starlets in matching dresses.
Dog in a stroller.

Off-brand superhero.
Rollerblader in booty-shorts. Cop chopper.

Pack of coyotes.

And the burning palm tree.

As Raymond Chandler said,

"There is no trap so deadly
as the trap you set for yourself."

Maybe I'll stick around for a while,
push my luck.

One thing's for sure,

you can't beat the donuts.