Original subtitles

Why?

We did everything!

Okay, so check it out.

"Dune" and "Waterworld"

are like the best movies in the last 30 years.

Did you see Kevin Costner? He's a fucking merman!

Did you see the fucking things behind his ears?

I mean, that's where the gills were.

You know that, right? He was like half fish.

- What about "Dune"? "Dune" is 80's.

Waterworld's all water and no dune.

And also no Sting in the... It's a thong.

- It's like a space thong. Shill: Space thong?

You guys talking about Sting?

Do you know what Sting does? Are you aware of this?

I don't know if you know this. He delivers albums.

Where's my fucking record, Grohl?

- It's all up here. Shill: Oh, is it?

Yeah, it's all up here.

And in there, and in there,

and in there, and in there.

Not so much here, but I got it, man. It's all in here.

I think, personally, that doesn't amount

to a bucket of frozen shit.

I don't know where you get a bucket of frozen shit,

but that's what it's about!

When you fucking tell me you've got a record,

all I got is a bucket of frozen shit!

I'm up to my eyeballs in debt and I gotta pay

some crazy piece of shit motherfuckers

who I owe so much money to

and I just found out they may be the ones

who fucking sliced up that journalist in Turkey.

I'm just... I just wanna give you the fucking album

that you want, so you can pay off those people

before they turn your nut sack into a fucking coin purse.

- Relax. - Oh.

Did you just say "Relax"?

Yeah. So here's the thing.

We were thinking...

It's our tenth album, okay? We can't do the same old shit.

We gotta break the fucking mold on this one.

Yeah, Shill, this-this record,

it... it's gotta fucking blow your fucking dick

right into your fucking mouth.

Blow your own dick into your mouth?

Yeah, right back up into your mouth, man.

- Right back up into your mouth? - Yeah.

Like it's been there before?

What kind of goal is that?

I don't want that album.

Unless it makes me a lot of money.

Lot of money? Blow all the dicks you want.

Look, I can get you a studio,

anywhere you want in town tomorrow.

We've used all those studios, okay?

They all sound exactly the fucking same, okay.

Let's think outside the box.

Let's go somewhere we've never been.

Let's go to a cool place... Like Zeppelin.

When Zeppelin went to the castle and there was the devil

and the wizards and the dragons and shit.

Alright. So, you want me to find you some wizards and dragons?

Yes! That's what we should be doing.

You want that? You want that?

Watch as I make this happen.

Holy shit. You fuckers are not gonna believe it.

I got it. You gotta trust me and let me do this.

Chilly Shills. What can I do for you, sunshine?

Hey, Barb! I'm here in my office with the Foo Fighters!

And they're looking for a place to record a new album.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Oh, I do know what you're thinking,

and I have the perfect place.

Foo Fighters... Oh, I thought this time would never come.

Listen, I gotta jump, but I'll shoot you

the address in the A.M.

This place is to die for.

Prozem high five, up top.

Jeremy is fucking smoking!

Hi, Dave Grohl. I'm Barb Weems.

- Hi, Barb. How are you? - How are you? I'm such a fan.

I would love to get a selfie later, if that's okay with you.

Hello, Foos! How are you?

It's so nice to meet you. Barb Weems.

So, this is the house, and it is incredible.

I can't wait to show it to you. Come on. This place...

Okay, I know what you guys are thinking.

It needs a little sprucey-goosey, and I agree.

But here's the thing,

this place has some

serious rock and roll pedigree.

I mean, it rolls deep.

A huge music manager owned this place in the 70s and 80s

and threw some wild parties.

Come, come.

How sexy is this stone-finished pool?

I can already see the girls in their bikinis.

Ooh, it's gonna be fun. Are you gonna invite me to your parties?

Look at this state of the art kitchen.

Do we have any chefs in the group?

I'm pretty handy on the grill.

- Oh. - Yeah. Right, guys?

Yeah, if you like your meat charred and dry.

- Am I right? - M-mm.

Take a look at the other room.

Fuck you.

This is my favorite room in the house.

These are original Babette Fosters.

You know, they stopped production on those in the 80's.

I do love a good sconce.

But I don't know, it definitely has a weird energy.

You guys feel that?

Do you guys get this overwhelming sense of...

death and doom? Or is that just me?

Yeah, like someone's gonna jump through the window

and start stabbing us in the eyes!

Okay, I'm gonna be really straight with you guys.

There was another band, and they lived here in the 90's.

They thought the sound was incredible.

But they never finished their album.

Creative differences.

I don't know.

Just doesn't really seem like the right fit.

Wow, do you hear that?

That's fucking rad.

Whoa!

You hear that?

Okay, so if we put the drums right here, facing this way

and then we could put the guitar stuff right here.

And we could do keyboards like over there.

We can put the mixing desk in the bedroom up there.

Mm, you know... We'll take it.

Oh, well, that is music to my ears, baby.

I'll go draw up that paperwork right now.

Yay! I knew you would love it.

Okay, you guys, check it out.

The sound of this house is the sound of album ten.

No songs yet.

But we got the sound.

Alright, alright, you guys, you know the drill.

All gear in the house. Amps, living room.

Snare drum, shitty job, living room.

Expensive shit, guitars, by the amp line

in the living room.

Just fucking hate this shit.

It's like a quarter of an inch that way. Just a little...

It's like a hair more. Just like a tiny...

Now it's too far. Gotta bring it back.

- Did you hear that? - I did.

Sweet, huh?

Whatever, Dave.

Who cares about a creepy death vibe...

drum sounds this good?

Alright, here's the deal.

Shill's a dick, we know this, right?

But this is our tenth record, okay?

It's gotta be good. But we gotta make it fast.

We gotta eat, sleep and drink this motherfucker.

So I'm thinkin' we move in to record.

No, no, no. Hear me out.

Hear me out. Hear me out.

Two weeks, tops. Maybe a month.

A month in this fucking shithole?

And then we can go on with our normal lives.

You tell my wife. I'm not telling her.

I'll tell your wife if you tell my wife.

I'll tell my own wife, but someone's gotta talk to my kids.

What am I gonna tell my grandma?

Oh, I can call your grandma.

She loves me.

You remember the Hanukkah party?

Chris: Oh, yeah.

Come here, Grandma. Sit down.

Mm...

Come on, baby, just touch it. Just touch it.

Yeah! Rami's not gonna know.

Stay away from my bubi!

Well, I guess that's settled.

I got master bedroom.

Ooh, I get the guest house.

Chris: I'll see you guys later.

No. No. No, no, no.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Hello.

Hi. Excuse me.

Hey, hey, hey! Yo! Excuse me!

That's weird.

How we looking, man? We all good?

Yeah, we're all good on our end.

Just need some juice and we can start

mic-ing up the room.

Goddamnit!

Dude, who wired this house,

a bunch of fucking mental patients?

Fuck. Jesus Christ!

No, no, no! Don't touch him! He's still hot!

- Oh, what the fuck? - Holy shit!

Wow. He's totally fried.

He's fucking dead!

Oh, man.

Krug! Krug! Jaägermeister! Krug!

Krug!

Guess we should pack up.

That was a short-lived experiment.

You know, it's funny...

Hold on, guys. One second. Check it out.

Krug was really into this place.

You know, the way the drums sounded.

Dave, seriously,

the guy just got turned into a fucking bratwurst.

Exactly why we should stay here and make the record.

Okay?

It'll give his life meaning.

You know? We could dedicate it to Krug.

I don't know. I don't know.

I guess we can do a couple of drum tracks here in his honor.

Exactly. That's what I'm talking about right there.

We have to have some fun with it, you know?

For Krug!

People think I look a lot like Willie Nelson.

Oh, you know what, you guys? I forgot to tell you.

Earlier today, before Krug got zapped,

there was this weird dude in the yard creeping around.

What kind of dude?

Some weird guy who was like trimming the hedges and stuff.

The killer gardener of Encino.

Wouldn't be surprised in this house.

- Help. - Oh, my God!

- What the fuck! Shit! - Dude, you alright, David?

The meat...

it's Krug.

Ugh...

You know, usually I have a clear idea

of what we're going to do...

but ever since we moved into this house,

my mind is flooded... where it's like,

sometimes it's like Prince and then it's like Slayer.

Then it's like fucking Lawrence Welk.

What is it?

You guys hear that?

Probably some raccoon, I heard 'em eating the trash last night.

Probably that creeper dude!

He better not be filming this!

Hey, neighbor!

God!

You should have seen your face.

Or should I say "Feces"?

I mean, you looked like you crapped your pants.

- Yeah. - I'm Samantha.

I live right next door, I just wanted to introduce myself

in case you boys needed anything.

A cup of sugar. Back-up singer.

♪ I got another confession to make ♪

♪ I'm your fool

♪ Were you born to resist

♪ Or be abused?

♪ Is someone getting the best

♪ The best, the best, the best of you ♪♪

Oh, thank you.

We'll let you know about that one.

Okay. I'm around.

Let me apologize in advance

for all the rock we're about to make.

Oh, I can't hear anything over my Portuguese singing bowls.

Ooh, those vibrations elevate the frequency of the psyche.

Play your cards right, maybe you will get a sound bath later.

Okay, Rami-o.

Let's keep it moving.

Bye.

Namaste.

Hey, is there some sort of gardener dude

that takes care of the property.

Trimming hedges and stuff?

No, Dave. Nobody lives here.

This house has been empty for years.

Okay, check it out, I got a couple new riff ideas

I've been working on.

I'm gonna lay them on you.

Riff number one.

Sounds like this.

So "All My Life"?

Shit!

Okay, hold on. I got one more.

Dude, wait, wait, wait. T-that's a great fucking song.

It's called "Everlong," and you wrote it about 20 years ago.

What? The well's run dry.

I've written all my songs already.

Ugh! All I have are these random snippets of

fossilized MTV bullshit in my head.

Dude, dude. Look here.

Have you ever tried meditating?

Fuck meditating in the ass, Rami!

Alright, I'm gonna step out for a minute, guys.

Why don't we give Dave a little space here?

Yeah.

Something will come.

Ugh.

Son of a fucking bitch!

♪ I've been alone with you

♪ Inside my mind

♪ And in my dreams I've kissed

♪ Your lips a thousand times

♪ I sometimes see you pass

♪ Outside my door

♪ Hello ♪

- Hello, Dave. - Lionel!

We all have writer's block, you know?

Mm-hmm.

But that's my fucking song.

- That's my fucking song! - Mm-hmm.

You understand what I'm saying?

I like that song.

No, no, no. I love that song!

That's one of my favorite songs. I love singing that song.

- Mm-hmm. - Love that song!

Get your own song!

Nerd.

Taylor, sleep in your own bed.

Taylor?

You're...

not...

the first!

Krug! Oh, my God, I'm so sorry!

They are watching!

No, Krug!

What the fuck!

What the fuck!

Oh, my God!

Fuck this. I'm starving.

Yeah, I got like three or four chicken parms here?

Wha... You're Dave Grohl!

What?

Yeah, I get that all the time.

Ah, right. Yeah. I heard about this.

You're like incognito, right?

No, see, I'm not Dave Grohl.

Dave Grohl can actually write music.

Don't. I'm seriously a huge fan.

You're like my second favorite band after Coldplay.

You know, I asked for extra ranch.

Oh, yeah, and I'll go run back, get some for you.

Yeah, 'cause it'll only take a few minutes.

You know, I'm in a band, yeah.

But, yeah, I'll run back and get some ranch...

and drop it off with my demo, if that's cool.

I'll just use the marinara.

Hey, what's up? This is Bob from playthisriff.com.

And you've come here today

because you have song writing constipation.

So, when I have song writing constipation

and I want a violent, greasy dose of the hits

I turn to classic riff structure,

like this. Check it out. Part-A.

Part-B.

Part-A again.

Part-C.

Am I the only one who cares about the drought around here?

Oh! Fuck!

Ahh!

What the fuck?

Who kills a fucking raccoon?

Ugh...

Hang on.

He's real.

Man 1: Dave...

Hey...

"Dream Window." No way.

It's fucking incredible.

Fuck, yeah.

It's the sound.

It's this fucking sound.

Yes! Fuck, yes!

Fuck!

It's fucking incredible!

No, no, no, no, no, no.

No, no, no, no. Don't stop.

There's gotta be more.

Fuck, there's gotta be more. Please, God.

Please, please, please.

Fuck!

No.

Shit! Goddamnit!

God, it was perfect!

Finish it and it begins.

Finish it and it begins.

Finish it and it begins.

Fuck.

Finish it.

What are you doing?

There's a dead raccoon in there.

Dick.

- Wow. - Awesome, man.

- Whoo! - Ooh! Fuck.

It was like you were musically constipated

and now you just took the biggest musical shit on us.

- Fucking awesome! - I know, right?

I'm still working on it.

It's like a 100 ideas in my head

just fighting to get out.

Could be a double, maybe a triple album.

- I don't know. - Let's get to work.

Fuck you, Nate. Don't tell me what to do, asshole.

Told you it would come, man.

Yeah, you did, didn't you?

What key is this in?

I sharp.

You found a new musical note?

Hell motherfucking yes, I did.

Came to me last night. Just dropped in my head.

Like, boom!

You're welcome, music.

So, the I sharp, that's basically an E flat,

only like an octave up?

It's not an E, it's an I.

If you guys could just like open up your hearts and minds,

you know, maybe you'd be able to hear it.

So, what happened to H, I, J, K?

G, H, I don't give a fuck!

It's I sharp, okay, you guys?

That's the root note of the song.

Yes, yes, you're getting warmer. Yes.

Pat, you're cold, like North Pole, Antarctica.

Not even close.

I think I'm feeling something.

Oh, God! Who the fuck!

Hello?

Oh, any hungry rock stars in there

want some num-nummy treats.

Oh, God, I detest that woman.

Ugh...

- Lemon bar? - Go away!

Dude, lighten up. She's hot.

Hello, beautiful. What's up?

Some fresh-baked lemon bars for my favorite band.

It's my grandma's recipe, but I added

my own little twist to it.

- Ooh, is that cocaine? - Mm-hmm.

Not a good time right now 'cause we're working on music, okay?

How you feeling? Everything okay?

Never better.

- I'll get rid of her. - Get her the fuck out of here!

Hey. Sorry, he gets really intense when we're recording.

I need to talk to you, alone.

Ooh, I'd like to get you alone, too.

No, it's about this house.

There's something evil.

I should go. Dave seems stressed.

Hey, how about that sound bath later?

- What the fuck, cock-blocker! - Fuck you, Rami!

Wait, wait, wait! Hold on, hold on, hold on.

Uh, Taylor, take it from the... from the

boom-bah-boom-bah-boom-bah part.

There's like eight thousand boom-bahs.

- Which one do you mean? - You know which one.

You know we're coming in at 23 minutes and counting, right?

So what?

So maybe we have a song that has no end.

So, we're not close.

I mean, to me it just feels like there's

something missing, you know?

Uh-oh, you know, guys, let's just run through what we've got.

I'm sure you'll get it.

Thanks, Chris. You fucking asshole!

Go!

One, two, three, four.

- Nate! - What?

I got an idea, okay? Downstairs, now. Let's go.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.

- Taylor! - Yo, what up, D?

I got an idea. Come downstairs.

Oh, fuck.

- Are those mine? - Oh, yeah. I borrowed them.

- Have you seen Pat? - No idea.

Hey, Pat!

In here.

What are you doing in here?

Well, this is the most comfortable place I could find.

And there's snacks.

Oh.

Voila!

- You made this? - Yeah.

It's like the only thing that'll

get this song out of my head, you know?

- And that's the song? - Exactly.

So, each one of these little nails is one of us.

The yarn represents

the vibrations of sound that our music makes

connecting all of us in an unending form.

It's like the universe.

There's no beginnings, no end.

Great, Dave. Can we pick this up in the morning?

Well, I kind of had these new ideas, and I was hoping

maybe we could put them down tonight so I don't forget them.

No, man, I gotta go to sleep. I'm tired.

What did you just say?

Come on, I don't even have a bedroom.

I never get any sleep. Let's just do this tomorrow.

Before that. Small word.

Begins with an N, ends with an O.

Nothing in between.

No. I said no.

No?

Did you just say no to Dave Grohl?

I'm a fucking rock star!

Okay, I get whatever I want, whenever I want!

The best parking wherever I go for eternity!

Them's the rules!

Come on, come on.

Talk to Jimmy Page if you don't like it.

Dude, what the fuck?

I'll do it if you stop being such a fucking dick!

Thank you. Can we just do this, please?

- One, two, three... - No, no, hey, hey!

Is there any way you could count it like

five, six, seven, eight!

Like a fucking dancer counting in a dance?

That's fine. Cool

Five, six, seven, eight!

He has gone fucking crazy!

Like, ass-flapping, dick-slapping,

One-Flew-Over-the-Cuckoo's-Nest crazy.

Listen, come on, guys, let's just buckle down,

give him what he wants...

and we can get the fuck out of here.

- Yeah, but what does he want? Hey, guys!

Iksnay on the Aveday.

- What's up, guys? - Hey.

- What's happening? - What's up?

Hey, um, I just wanted to say...

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for being such a giant, red,

puckered orangutan's asshole last night.

This album means the world to me, okay?

And I think I just let it take over,

and I treated you like shit...

and I'm really sorry.

Which one of you gave Dave a hummer?

- Rami. - Rami.

Listen, we're so close, okay?

If we could just finish this song...

tonight, we'll be out by Sunday.

Promise.

Stick with me. We can do this.

- The song is pretty epic, dude. - Right?

I do think it should have an ending, by the way.

- Thank God. - Okay.

So I have this idea, right?

It starts with Nate, the root, the foundation,

the bass. Nate goes...

Chris, Rami, you come in like warships,

banging off each other.

Then Rami, you're all...

Pat, Taylor, you come in like riders of the Apocalypse.

Bam!

Like that! You know what I'm saying?

We got this. Right?

- Yeah, we can do this. - Pearl Jam high five.

Pearl Jam high five.

Break! We're still alive. Come on, let's go!

You sure you want us to leave?

- I think we're all good. - Alright.

Well, if you track anything this weekend

just pop it onto a drive and we'll mix it on Monday.

Let's get out of here.

How's it going, bro? How's it sounding?

It's good. I'm just cleaning up some tracks.

Cool, man. I haven't seen you eat anything all day.

Are you hungry? How about some grill action, dude?

No. I ordered a shit-ton of steaks earlier.

The guy should be here any minute.

Cool, man. I'll... I'll let you know when he's here.

"Oh, Dave, I forgot you were staying here!"

"Oh! Well, uh, here's your food and, uh,"

yeah, I brought you that CD I was talking about."

Agh, he's not gonna buy that.

Come on!

You are a worthy and talented musician.

I'm a worthy and talented musician!

"Hey, Dave, brought you a bunch of extra ranch this time, yeah."

"Oh, this? It's my demo that I told you about. Yeah."

Dave?

Hello? Dave?

Oh, hey, sorry it took so long. Yeah.

I just wanted to make sure they got your order right.

It's all back here. I got...

Dave!

What the hell?

Ahhh!

Hey, that delivery guy ever show up?

Yeah, I don't know. Gonna take a look.

Looks like he, uh, just dropped the bags and left.

You know, I think I kind of freaked him out.

He wanted to drop a demo on me.

I wasn't really in the mood.

Hmm...

What is it? Think he's still out there?

You can never have enough ranch.

Okay, so what's left?

So...

Drum tracks tomorrow...

and then we just gotta figure out how to end this thing.

We're not actually making a 38-minute long song, right?

- No. - Okay, cool.

It's gonna be fucking longer than that.

What? What?

It's gonna be epic, man!

It's gonna be like 2112 times 2112.

What?

Hey, buddy, why don't you let me take

the grill tomorrow night?

It seems like you got a lot on your mind.

Okay.

Just leave mine raw, dude.

It's so fucking juicy.

Hey, guys, it's Barb!

I'm just checking in to see how everything is going.

Oh, my God. They are barbarians.

Oh, my goodness, it's on the ceiling.

Okay, how do they even do that?

Ugh.

Oh, my God.

What did you do?

- Hey, Barb. - Pat!

I thought you were dead.

Wow! Uh...

How is everything going?

Is, uh, is Dave done with his big concept album?

- He told you about that? Oh, yeah.

I guess he's been talking to Shill.

They seemed pretty excited.

Where is everyone?

Upstairs, sleeping.

Oh!

I used to sleep here, but not

with all this crap on it.

- A lemon bar? - No, thank you.

I don't eat sugar or gluten.

Or any citrus fruits, or dairy, or corn.

- It's terrible for your gut. - Mm.

You know, they actually look homemade.

Is there a baker in the band?

Mnm-mnm. Lady next door?

Samantha?

That woman is a train wreck.

I've known her for years.

"Sacrifice?"

What did you just say?

I did, uh... Me... Huh?

Um, I don't know. Nothing.

Hey, Barb. What's up? You made it.

David, how goes it? Is the album almost done?

Yeah, it's so good.

- Yeah, it's killer. - Oh.

Yeah, we're actually wrapping up tonight.

Oh, great. So I should make arrangements accordingly then.

I'm gonna go freshen up.

Hmm. Interesting guy.

He's the best.

Alright. Wait, wait, wait. Stop, stop, stop, stop. Hold on.

Something's not right.

It's the ending.

You know, there has to be more.

You know, if we just stopped recording, it would be over!

Yup, a tight 44 fucking minutes.

And then ending in a nice slow fade 70's style.

'Cause, dude, I have blisters on my fucking blisters.

My hands are killing me, dude.

Yeah, we've been looking for this mythical

fucking ending all day.

You know what, I'm fucking out of here.

Frigging dick sandwich!

Fuck you, Shifty!

What the fuck? Forty-minute fucking song.

"Look at me. I'm Dave Grohl, the big fucking genius."

"I don't have any fucking rules."

"I write songs with no fucking endings."

"Forty minutes long."

Fuckin', can't even cook a piece of meat to save his life.

Hey, Shifty, need a beer or anything?

Yeah, to shove up Dave's fucking ass!

Ahhh!

Fucking blisters, man.

I should start wearing those stupid

fucking gloves.

Fuck this, man. I'm outta here.

Just hang out. Chris just had to blow off some steam.

We should get Dave one of those magnet bracelets.

His energy's way off.

Oh, fuck!

Fuck!

What the fuck is that?

Oh, see? Fucking!

Who the fuck is that? And where the fuck is his head?

It's the delivery guy. Look at all this ranch.

Holy, shit!

Holy, shit!

That's the guy that delivered all the food earlier.

Don't touch that. No, no, no.

Dave, Dave, don't...

"Bone Structure."

He wanted me to hear this.

How long has this guy been here?

I'm picking up some energy beacons.

He transitioned around 28 hours ago.

Where the fuck did you learn that?

Pasadena.

First, Krug gets electrocuted, and now this?

Fuck this shit. I'm calling the cops.

- No, no, no. No cops! - Fuck this shit.

No fucking cops!

What the fuck!

Maybe Dave's right. We should call Shill. I mean, look at...

If this gets out, it's gonna be bad.

Listen, no cops, no Shill.

Okay, we cannot afford that intrusion right now.

Guy looks like a fucking salami sandwich up there.

- What the fuck? I understand.

This is bad. And this is sad.

But if we call the cops right now, they're gonna

turn this place into a crime scene...

and you can kiss that awesome drum sound good-bye forever.

So, we just keep on going?

Yes! One more day.

We finish this thing out, okay, and then we can call everybody.

We can call the FBI, CSI, NCIS.

We'll call them all.

And then we'll give, uh,

Darren Sandelbaum, from Bone Structure, a proper burial.

Okay, caskets, flowers, the whole nine.

We can even tweet a link

to the Bone Structure on our Insta-thing.

- You know what I mean? - Hmm-mm.

This is what Darren would have wanted.

And he might have wanted to keep his fucking head.

He didn't want to fuck up our record!

He loved this band.

He died for our band.

Let's do this, you guys. Okay?

Do it for Darren Sandelbaum.

You guys in?

- You in? - No.

- Are you guys in? - Well...

Come on, let's get to work.

Oh, by the way, I'm gonna need everybody's

cell phones and the keys to the van.

'Cause no one's going anywhere until we finish this song.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you. Thank you.

- I don't have a phone anymore. - Thank you.

It all comes back to the I sharp. Got it?

Yeah, we got it. Totally got it.

Let's just track the song so we can go home.

I'm tired. My kids think I'm dead.

And where's Shifty? He should be here.

He was out by the grill. He's gone.

Okay, let's just do this one more time.

- Count us in. - Five, six, seven, eight...

Actually, no. You know what, this time...

odd numbers only in this section.

One, three, five, seven. Hit it.

Okay.

One, three, five, seven.

He's still eating. Let's go.

He came out of here.

- I was back here eating chips. - Big surprise.

Then I found this.

The neighbor lady that left the lemon bars left this.

It's a code! She's been trying to warn us!

You just want to fucking bang her.

Yes, I want to bang her.

But I also want to not get decapitated.

Let's go ask her. She's always by the fence. Let's go.

That's you?

I thought we had an infestation of Yellow Warblers.

That was the wood thrush, genius.

Not here, little thrush. Come to the pool.

We don't have much time.

Guys! Hey!

Come here! Now!

How did you get over there so fast?

Now!

I need you boys to open your minds

for a moment...

and fucking listen.

This house, this is not just a creepy rock and roll house.

We are standing on a nexus that allows

spiritual entities to cross into our world.

- Oooh-ooh-ooh! - Can it, drummer boy.

- You ever hear of Dream Widow? - Of course.

They were supposed to be the next Jane's Addiction.

Greg Null was a fucking genius.

Yeah, until he went bat-shit crazy

and killed his whole fucking band.

Right here in this house.

Yeah, that's just rock and roll folklore.

Mnm-mnm, I was there.

Greg Null and I were close. Very close.

I was his number one groupie and muse.

Now we're taking advice from groupies?

Hey, watch the labels. Groupies are people, too.

You gotta understand, this was the roaring 90's.

No one gave a fuck about shit.

But Greg, he was a visionary,

an artist of the dark.

We were all into some experimental

life choices back then.

The occult sex, the energy transfers,

and spectrophilia.

He possessed this living book

made from human flesh.

The book was rumored to hold the secret incantations

of Aleister Crowley.

As time went on,

something truly sinister took a hold of Greg.

He was obsessed with this song from the book...

Lacrimis de Ebrius.

"The tears of God."

Every day he made his band try to complete this song.

He believed that perfecting it

would open an eternal portal

and the spirit inside him would become a demonic passage

into our world.

You guys were ghost fuckers?

Somehow, the good won out in Greg...

and he stopped it the only way he could.

Greg killed himself to stop

the completion of the song.

But now, the spirit

that possessed him has found a new instrument.

Go! Go! Go! Go! Faster!

Go! Hurry!

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!

- Oh, shit! Fucker.

Fucking dolls.

What the fuck! Goddamn it!

I didn't spend the last 20 years teaching Pilates

in Encino so that thing to have its way!

You moved next door to this place on purpose?

Someone had to guard the portal.

Yeah, well, he's already been possessed.

What are we gonna do now?

Okay, bring him down here.

Maybe I can just suck it out the old fashioned way.

Ohh! Hell, no. Bad idea.

Oh! Sorry. Old habits.

There's got to be a better way.

Uh, we just call the cops.

Oh, my God, that's such a good idea.

"Hi. Dave Grohl's been possessed by the spirit of Greg Null."

"Now he's on a murderous rampage."

Best idea I've heard since

"Hey, let's move into this house."

Okay. What the fuck should we do?

Come on.

The book.

It uses blood to stay alive.

He uses, um, raccoons.

Ah, the basement.

He said something about raccoons

when he came up from the basement.

Okay. Find the book.

Turn to a passage called Van Houten's Protocol.

That will close the portal and send this

fucking spirit back to hell.

What about you?

You're going to be in danger now that you've told us all this.

You wanna stay back and make sure I'm safe?

She's right. Nate, Pat, you guys go find the book.

Taylor, go keep Dave occupied.

Drum tracks. You haven't done any drum tracks yet.

Dude, I ain't going anywhere near that fucking psycho.

- Fuck that. - No.

Just go up there and fuck up the drums

so he can't finish the song.

Shouldn't be too hard for you.

Eat a bag of dicks, Smear.

Be careful, this is far from a simple possession.

That caretaker is more than just Greg Null.

There is an evil spirit inside him.

- Let's go. - No, I said I'm not doing it!

Fuck you, guys, I'm not doing it.

I'm not going near that motherfucking house!

Let's go! Come on!

Fuck you, motherfuckers!

- Yes. - Oh!

He took the fucking SIM card!

Quick, Pat. Quick.

I'll keep you so fucking safe right now.

I bet you will.

I wanna take this off. Take this off.

Can't get it off!

Wait, wait, wait. Put some music on so Dave doesn't hear us.

Mm. Alright.

Okay, let's go.

Maybe I should wait up here, to be a lookout?

No fucking way, dude. Come on.

♪ I'm a lumberjack baby

♪ And I'm gonna cut you down to size ♪

My latest guilty pleasure.

Ooh, that is my shit!

- Aah! - Mm-hmm.

♪ And when you hear my motor running ♪

♪ You know I surely be coppin' a rise ♪

♪ Yeah, so I'm gonna crank it up and cut it down ♪

This is my favorite part! This is my favorite part!

Ooh, you're nasty. I like that.

Oh, yeah.

♪ But I ain't jacked my lumber baby ♪

♪ Since my chain saw you ♪

Jesus! Somebody lived down here.

Greg Null, or whatever he is now.

Fuck, dude. Look!

"The sacrifice feeds the book."

Poor little guy.

Pat, find me something to pry this open with.

Ahh! Fuck!

Ahhh!

Come on!

Hey, buddy. How you doing, man?

The ending.

I can hear it.

All we need to do is lay down the drums.

The drums? Why don't you and Shifty do some more guitars?

Shifty's done.

Warm up.

You're next.

Nate: What the hell! With these fucking demons!

Fuck!

There's like real fucking demon, Nate!

Lacrimis de Ebrius.

Demonic incantations.

Ah, here we go, exorcisms.

No, no, no, that's not it.

That's not it. You're doing this on purpose, man.

No, man. I'm just trying to get this fucking ending right.

Okay, it's fucking simple. It just goes...

I'm pretty sure that's what I was doing, man.

Pretty sure it's not.

Dude, why don't we just wait for Nate and Pat to get here?

Nate and Pat?

Fuck them! What do they know about fucking drums?

You and me, right? We're drummers.

We speak the same language. Let's finish the fucking track.

Can't we just wait, dude?

Let's just finish the fucking track and get out of here!

It's not Dave. You're not Dave.

What did you just say?

I didn't say anything, man.

Just play the fucking drums!

Yeah!

That's it!

Yeah!

That's it!

There you go, man.

I finished the fucking song.

You did.

Thank you.

"The Van Houton Protocol for Demonic cleansing."

"It's imperative to confirm the possessing entity's demonic

origin before employing these techniques."

"Look for these signs. One. Digestive system shut down."

No more oat milk beer bongs for Davey.

Nate: "Ability to levitate objects or defy gravity."

Just play nice with this I sharp bullshit, right?

Play E flat and get through.

It's an I! I!

Nate: "Incessant masturbation."

Dave, what are you doing in there?

Sounds like you're playing patty cake

with a soft chicken dumpling.

- Didn't he do that already? - Does that disqualify him?

This demonic shit is complicated.

Nate: "Insatiable hunger for raw meat."

"Human flesh in particular."

Fuck! I think he ate Chris.

Fuck, he's definitely possessed.

Okay. So, what do we do?

We go save his ass.

That's not good.

What's he doing?

- Oh, my God. - Shit.

I think we're too late!

That's Taylor. Look!

Read the book about this.

Okay, here we go. To begin the Van Houlten Protocol...

Quiet!

Shit! Fuck!

Run!

What the fuck!

Jesus! Jesus!

Fuck!

Let's go!

Alright, alright.

"The vessel must be purified to release

the infected spirit."

"Copious amounts of Holy water."

The pool!

"Under the designations of these sacred passages,

I anoint this body of water as a conduit of purity."

That won't work.

You don't know what you're doing.

Just hurry up and read.

"Heavenly father, Holy spirit, rebel son Jesus."

"Bestow your divine power to this water that we may wash

Dave clean from this foul demon."

Something's happening!

Yes, your death is being delayed.

The fucking demons!

Give me that fucking book or I'll rip it out

of your dead hands!

"Hear us, Lord, come cleanse the soul of this infernal beast"

that hath taken Dave and turned him

into a satanic vessel from hell."

Stop reading that fucking book!

Fuck you! We want Dave back.

Dave?

Dave's been gone for decades.

He's a slave to music.

What about our band?

The band?

What about them? Rami got what he wanted.

Taylor finished the song.

And Chris...

Chris was right.

He does make a killer barbecue.

"Demon of the Twelfth Realm, defiler of the souls,

sitting in the left hand of Lucifer... "

You're weak! You're nothing!

I'll crush your pathetic souls!

"I command you to be gone from this human vessel."

"Take leave of this innocent body and return

to your kingdom of blasphemy and filth."

Nate: Oh! demon!

Let Dave fucking go!

Do you see him?

Where did he go?

- Where is he? - I don't know.

Oh, my God.

You guys!

Oh, God.

Last thing I remember is

that fucking raccoon, man and then poof!

Dude, we got some bad news.

Oh, my God! The song. We cannot finish the song. Okay?

Whatever's in that basement, we can't let it out.

No. It's about the guys.

Oh, I think I swallowed some pool water.

I fucking love you guys, man.

I fucking love you.

You totally saved my...

Oh, gross!

Is that Shifty?

God, that tastes like shit.

It's alright, buddy. You're okay now.

Oh, God!

No...

No! No!

Now, I'll kill you like the rest

of your pathetic little band!

You ugly fucker!

Fuck you! Fuck you! fuck you!

Fuck you!

Skye: You killed us. Crushed our dreams.

You were weak.

The curse is lifted.

Now you suffer.

Suffer. Suffer. Suffer.

Aah!

The sacrifice feeds the book.

Thank you.

Okay!

Get me the fuck out of here, man.

The fucking van.

Hey, we're gonna grab the van. Just wait here.

Okay.

Oh, fuck! We gave shitty Dave the keys.

Oh! Just get in.

What are you doing?

I'm gonna do it the old fashioned way.

Hit the gas, when the wire makes contact.

What?

You need to hit the gas

when I spark it.

What are you doing here?

See if there's any others left.

Oh, my God, Shill, thank God that you're here.

Okay, this house is a fucking shit show, man.

You have no idea what we just went through.

The Devil rules all of Rock and Roll.

What? No, no, no, listen.

This place is a disaster. Okay.

It's been a fucking nightmare recording here.

Why did you send us into this house?

Don't give me your sob story, Dave.

I know exactly what is going on.

- You do? - Oh, yeah.

You know Rock 'n' Roll,

it hasn't been relevant for a long time.

It needs an infusion.

Okay. I don't know what kind of weird shit you're into...

The Devil will make Rock 'n' Roll relevant again.

The Devil will make it dangerous.

You've finished the song, didn't you, Dave?

Ah... No, not yet.

It's complicated. We're close.

It's just the arrangement and the composition, it is...

I've been waiting 20 years to finish that song.

I just needed the right vehicle.

Someone who can handle all that evil.

I needed you.

First of all, Obi Wan Kenobi, nice fucking cape.

Second of all, you're so fucking lame,

who the fuck you think you are?

Sending us to this fucking shithole to make a record?

You're just a manager, okay, you don't know the first

fucking thing about music!

You just want it to make your money.

I made you!

Pat! Pat, there's something in the back there, come on.

Oh, shit!

Pat, move, move, move, move!

Dude, what the fuck do you think I am doing? Hold on a minute.

Oh, motherfuc...

Dude, the time is fucking nigh! Start the car!

Nate, give me a fucking minute, I almost got it.

Nate: Come on, move. It's getting closer.

Almost here, Pat, come on.

What the fuck are you doing down there?

Shit! Pat, now, now, now!

Yeah, yeah, I know, I know...

Hold on.

Hi, guys.

Stop fighting me, Dave.

Stop fighting me.

I'm trying to help you.

The real you!

Donke zonke allar beiga!

Beiga! Zonke!

Here it comes, spark it!

Nate!

No, fuck. Pat!

Fuck!

Pat! Sorry, Pat. I'm sorry.

Barb?

Oh!

Help? I killed my band because of your help?

Die, you cocksucker! Die!

You finished it.

You finished the song, didn't you?

You finished it.

You finished it.

You did. Didn't you?

Ha!

Look at the rage in your eyes.

You're not Dave Grohl.

It's time for your solo career.

We're ready for you, brother.

That is a full house out there.

You all good, Dave?

Never better.

Okay.

♪ Love dies young

♪ And there is no resuscitation ♪

♪ Once it's done

♪ No regeneration

♪ It's a losing game that'll make you play ♪

♪ Your hand against your chest

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young

♪ And there's no reanimation

♪ Once it's gone

♪ No regeneration

♪ It's a bitter kiss

♪ That'll make you wish

♪ You're never had a taste

♪ Love dies young

♪ Oh, love dies young

♪ Oh oh

♪ Please don't take my breath

♪ Don't take my breath

♪ Away

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love's so dumb

♪ So what's the fascination?

♪ Leaves you numb

♪ With a nasty reputation

♪ When you lose your head and lights go out ♪

♪ You'll never be the same

♪ Love dies young

♪ Oh oh

♪ Love dies young

♪ Oh oh

♪ Please don't take my breath

♪ Don't take my breath away

♪ Love dies young

♪ Never-ending cemeteries

♪ Funeral parades

♪ All your dreams are buried in that place ♪

♪ Love dies young

♪ Oh oh

♪ Please don't take my breath

♪ Don't take my breath away

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young

♪ Oh oh

♪ Love dies young

♪ Oh oh

♪ Please don't take my breath

♪ Don't take my breath away

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young

♪ Love dies young ♪