Original subtitles

Life. It's literally all we have.

But is it any good? I'm a reviewer.

But I don't review food, books or movies.

I review life itself.

Aah!

Aah!

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen,

to the third season of "Review."

I am Forrest MacNeil.

Whatever life experience you're curious about, I will do it.

And then I will review it.

I am thrilled to be back and delighted to be reunited

with my co-host, A.J. Gibbs!

- Forrest... - Yes!

... you're alive!

I know!

And it is incredible.

Returning viewers will recall that our last season ended

rather abruptly when my producer, Grant,

and I very unfortunately fell off of a high bridge.

If I'm gonna die, you're gonna die, too!

[Bleep]

Grant and I both survived.

And that is, without a doubt, a miracle.

There's just no other way to understand it.

I believe I am alive today

so that I can continue to do

this extraordinarily important work.

And so with that, A.J., what is my first...

Oh, wait, you forgot to tell them about the veto booth.

Yes, I did. That's true.

Last season, I was able to veto two reviews.

And this season, our lawyers have insisted

that I have unlimited vetoes.

Signified by that eternal flame

and all those stacks of vetoes.

But I swear to you now that I will not use

any vetoes ever again.

You want guidance on the vital questions of our time.

If the universe, through our random system,

chooses your request,

who am I to stand in its way?

There will be no vetoes.

Now, A.J., let's get to it!

What is my first review of season three?

Okay.

It comes from Pete in Westchester, California.

- Pete? - Yeah.

Hello. I'm Pete from the viral marketing team

here at Neato Taquitos.

Forrest, our question to you is,

what's it like to try our brand new Locorito?

- Neato Taquitos... - We made it, you eat it.

The vital questions of our time.

Hmm. I believe this may

turn out to be one of those.

And, therefore,

a perfect example of the work

that my life was spared to do.

- Here I go. - Yum.

Buying and eating a fast-food burrito sounded

like a very short review.

But when I arrived at Neato Taquitos,

it did not look that way.

Oh, no.

Apparently, Pete had recorded his question

during the months that my producer, Grant,

and I were lost in the wilderness.

Since then, it appeared that the entire Neato Taquitos

fast-food chain had gone out of business.

My interns, Josh and Tina,

suggested placing an ad on wwww.craigslist.com

to find a Locorito,

which I now understood had

been out of production for 6 months.

Read it back to me, please.

"Wanted one Locorito from Neato Taquitos."

Will pay $5.

"Open to paying less. Serious inquiries only."

Do you think that's gonna work?

Honestly, you never know. People sell weird [bleep].

Vulgarities aside, Tina was right.

I was astonished to eventually receive

a response to my request...

Who is it?

Uh, Craig sent me.

It's about the Locorito.

... from a man who hung on

to a burrito from a defunct chain restaurant

because he also hangs on to everything, always.

I managed to save everything except my marriage.

Oh, yeah. Divorce can be difficult.

But sometimes it's for the best.

Worst mistake I ever made. Ruined my life.

Okay.

This simple request had become a test of my patience.

Can I move some of this stuff?

No! Oh, there it is.

I'd hate to let her go.

I left that house with a profound appreciation

for whatever mental illness allowed me

to complete my mission.

Hey! Can I interest you

in a discontinued Starbucks muffin?

No, just the Locorito. Thank you.

Your loss.

Oh.

Ever since my return to civilization,

I have been living in the home of my producer, Grant...

After you.

... who, I am very sorry to say

took the brunt of our impact on the water

and is now paralyzed from the waist down.

Ah.

This was an ideal arrangement.

- You found your food. - Yes, I did.

Living with a colleague meant no distractions from "Review."

- Oxycodone and blood thinner. - Thank you.

This work is all that I need in my life.

You know, it might help you

to focus better on that experience

if you ate it away from my own meal.

Yes.

I don't know that I've ever eaten food

this far past the date that it was prepared.

Here goes.

Okay.

This was not the first time fate had

caused me to eat something unsound.

But it was, by far, the most revolting meal of my life.

That'd be some kind of a mold.

By the time I had successfully choked down the burrito,

I longed for the raw birds

I'd consumed when I was lost at sea

and the animal droppings Grant

and I lived on after we accidentally fell

from the bridge and were living in the wilderness,

fighting for our lives.

This burrito was a terrible thing to eat.

And my body knew instantly that something was very wrong.

Ohh. A war raged within my stomach.

Oh, God. Ah!

Ohh.

Oh, [bleep]. Ohh.

It was a night spent

in terrible burrito-induced agony.

Oh.

Shouldn't have eaten that burrito.

It was the only one I could find.

Even so.

[Stomach rumbles] What the [bleep] is that?

Oh.

[Bleep]

Oh, [bleep]. Oh, [bleep].

Oh, [bleep].

Yes, hello?

No, no, no.

No.

I had forgotten that this was

a crucial day in my murder trial,

which resulted from last season's review

of killing a person...

Oh!

In which a person was killed.

Why didn't you give me more warning about this?

I'm so sorry. I just started golfing.

And it's taken over my life.

Listen, I don't feel very well.

You've got to get it together, Forrest.

This is jury selection.

12 of these people are going to decide

if you're a murderer or a self-defenser.

So you've got to make a good impression.

Oh, yeah. I'll do my best.

All rise.

Getting a Locorito into my body

had been a surprisingly difficult task.

But getting it out was far too easy for anyone's comfort.

Oh, my God. Ohh. He number two'd!

- Ew! Ohh. - I can explain.

Oh, no, no, no, no. You can't talk to them.

Ladies and gentlemen, yesterday,

I ate a 6-month-old burrito.

And...

Oh! Oh!

I move that that be stricken from the record.

Considering the many miseries that the Locorito brought me,

it's no wonder Neato Taquitos is no longer in business.

An inauspicious beginning

to a rather serious legal proceeding, I'm afraid.

But also an illuminating start to our new season.

That rancid fast-food burrito brought me to a simple

but important life lesson.

It is better to let go of the past than to eat it.

I give eating the new Locorito from Neato Taquitos one star.

What's next, A.J.?

It comes from 9-year-old Anastasia in Ryegate, Montana.

- Delightful. - Anastasia writes,

- "I want to get a puppy"... - Aw.

"... but my mom says we can't because we already have a dog.

What's it like to put a pet to sleep?"

Oh. Oh, boy.

You know, Forrest, you could just sing a lullaby to a cat.

Mmm. I could do that,

but then I would also have to kill it somehow,

because that's what Anastasia wants.

I'm off to put a pet to sleep, meaning death.

The only pet I've ever had was a golden retriever

that I acquired for my family in my review of stealing.

- Okay. - His name was Sergeant.

And there was no way of knowing how old he was.

If he had fallen ill, I would not have known

because my ex-wife, Suzanne,

did not allow me into the new home

she and our son live in. What do you want?

But if I was going to put a pet to sleep,

Sergeant was the logical place to start.

I'm just seeing how things are going.

I've b... I've been, uh, thinking about the dog lately.

- What's the review? - What's the review?

What is it, like, "What's it like to be a veterinarian"?

No.

I not even saying for sure that this is a review.

Well, you're not getting anywhere near the dog.

Good-bye.

It appeared I would not be putting my old dog to sleep.

But Suzanne's reference to veterinary medicine

gave me a good idea.

Hi.

Is your cat dying?

Well, if the doctor says that there's nothing you can do

for the bee sting,

I would be happy to put him down for you.

This approach was also proving difficult.

But just as I was ready to give up

on the veterinary hospital

and go out in search of a critically injured bird,

this story took an exotic turn.

Wow. What is that?

- It's a bearded dragon. - What's wrong with him?

It's old. He hasn't been eating.

Might just be time to put him out of his misery.

Really?

I have nothing to do for the rest of the day.

And I would be more than happy

to help this little fellow

over to the other side for you.

Why put yourself through that pain?

To be honest, he belongs to my son.

And he's too busy getting high to give a shit about him.

It's not going to be painful,

but I do have things I could do today.

- Okay. - Great.

And just like that, this unloved reptile was left in my care.

However, it was, in no way

that really meant anything, my pet.

I realized, I would not have a genuine experience of this

unless I spent at least a day

or 2 bonding with my lizard.

Hello, Beyonce.

- Oh, cool, a bearded dragon! - Mm-hmm.

My brother had one of these when I was a kid.

- Oh, yeah? - What's up, dude?

You're supposed to spritz him with water once a day.

Do you have a spray bottle for that?

I wouldn't worry about it.

Well, it's fine. Like, I'll get you set up.

I'll get, like, crickets and stuff, it'll be fun.

No, really.

Josh? Don't bother, okay?

No, it's cool, man.

It did not seem possible for me

to form a connection with this creature,

whose name I later learned was popularly pronounced Beyoncé.

It barely moved.

The crickets that wandered freely around the habitat

seemed like more interesting pets.

Beyoncé was stoic, remote and ill.

But by the end of the second day,

I began to take comfort in his quiet,

undemanding presence.

And on the third day, something remarkable happened.

Oh, hey, you guys!

You guys! Look! Look at this!

- What's up, Mr. MacNeil? - The crickets are ge.

Beyoncé ate the crickets.

- That's so great, Mr. MacNeil. - I know.

- That's wild. - You're such a good dad!

- Want me to get more crickets? - Yes! Get more crickets!

- I mean, he's hungry, right? - Yeah, okay, cool. Come on.

Wow.

It appeared that all Beyoncé needed was a little TLC,

or at least not to be completely ignored by a druggie

and his heartless mother. Sorry.

I knew that Beyoncé was only in my care

for the purpose of being euthanized

and that he wouldn't be around much longer.

But still, it was nice to see him rebound.

Oh, hey, Grant, did I tell you that yesterday...

Can it wait?

I want to hear the flute.

Beyoncé and I even seemed to be developing

some actual form of communication.

Hello. Hi! Hello!

The more time I spent with the increasingly healthy lizard...

Here we go. The more I realized

that this was no ordinary animal.

Behind those eyes was

a whole world of thoughts and feelings.

He was wise and soulful and kind.

I have no use for a friend of any species,

but the fates had brought Beyoncé and me together,

and the thought of killing him began

to seem like a bit of a waste.

And just put that right there.

My producer, Grant,

does an impressive and always appreciated job

of keeping me on task.

Lately, I could feel his eyes on me and Beyoncé.

And I knew what he was thinking.

Ah. Grant.

I think I know what you're here to say.

I've been spending a lot of time with Beyoncé.

And this is not a review of having a pet.

It's a review of putting a pet to sleep.

That is what I was going to say.

I feel like you're falling for this lizard

and forgetting what you have it for.

Uh, no. Come on, Grant.

I'm not capable of falling for anything except "Review."

Now, having said that,

I will not be euthanizing Beyoncé.

Forrest. No.

This is no regular dime store lizard, Grant.

He just returned from the brink of death.

Does that sound familiar?

That happened to you and me too, right?

You relate to him, don't you? I've gotten to know him.

And he's actually extremely intelligent.

I mean, it's like, there's a lot going on up there.

So it would be a crime.

Which is why I have purchased...

Aha!

Another pet for the express purpose of keeping

for a couple of days and then killing.

I'm gonna kill that one instead. I named him Deyoncé.

Take a look. Here you go.

Beyoncé and Deyoncé.

Friends for 1 or 2 days tops.

And then, that one, I'm gonna kill.

That sounds fine.

Good. Yeah.

Since any animal at all would do for this assignment,

I felt I'd found a good way

to spare the life of a creature with whom I had perhaps

developed some kind of mutual respect.

But there was a terrible flaw in my plan.

The picture is good,

but I wish it could look more old-timey.

You know how old-timey paper was all yellow, and...

Yes! Just like that! Oh, that's perfect!

Okay.

Whoa. Where's Beyoncé?

Isn't that Beyoncé?

No, this is my new lizard, Deyoncé.

Whoa! Where's Beyoncé?

Wait, did you 'em in there together?

Yeah, why?

You shouldn't put two bearded dragons in the same tank.

- Why not? - Is that Beyoncé's foot?

- Oh! - Okay.

Oh, no! What happened?!

Yeah, sometimes they eat each other. It's crazy.

What the [bleep] are you talking about?!

I knew that. Ere's videos on YouTube...

What the [bleep] are you talking about?!

These [bleep] lizards eat each other?!

Oh, so we both knew that.

Why the didn't you tell me that?!

Oh, I thought we all knew that.

I put them both in the same thing,

and one of them ate the other one?!

Well, I deal with grief alone.

Maybe he's in the cave?

Yeah, okay. All right.

I looked in the [bleep] cave!

I had no emotional attachment to Beyoncé

and was not sad for myself.

But the injustice of what had happened troubled me.

My only friend in the world!

I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.

After a period of reflection,

I decided that I had bonded enough with Deyoncé

to have a genuine experience of putting him to sleep.

You're comin' with me, you piece of shit.

My experience of putting Deyoncé to sleep was, frankly,

more like pet capital punishment.

It was justice.

Regrettable, but completely necessary.

I give putting a pet to sleep three stars.

Next up, a tweet from GoGoOctavio.

I love the tweets! Uh-huh.

"You survived death, so here's a present from me."

What's it like to make your dream come true?

"Ta-da!"

Ta-da.

What's it like to make my dream come true?

What an... What an odd request that is.

To go to sleep and have a dream

and wake up and reenact it in the real world?

Should be interesting.

I'm off to make my dream come true.

Grant couldn't let me use one of his many guest rooms

in case out-of-town relatives

dropped by unexpectedly. You never know.

So I spent my nights in his garage on a sturdy

cot that I rented from him.

A perfect place for sleeping, and thus, for dreaming.

I had never given a moment's thought to my dreams.

But now I would record one precisely

and then reenact it in the real world.

Okay, interesting stuff.

There's gonna be some props to round up, so please take notes.

All right, so, it starts.

And I'm walking down a quaint, tree-lined street.

And I've got a plate and my penis is on it.

And, uh, no. Sorry, not penis, peacock.

- Thank [bleep] God. - It's just my handwriting.

Something slips out of my pants...

- There it is. - ... and it's my lizard.

- Thank [bleep] God. - He scampers away.

And then we arrive at a park.

And my ex-wife is there on a picnic blanket.

And she's got Thanksgiving dinner out

with all the trimmings, and then I hear a voice.

And I run to it. And then I get lost.

And then I get really, really scared.

And that's when I woke up. Wild, right?

- Mm. - That shouldn't be too hard.

Yeah. There's just one part I got to work out.

Convincing my ex-wife

to help me make my dream come true

by playing a role in it

would require all of my charms.

Go away. I mean it.

Which were difficult to deploy through a closed door.

And so I went back to the drawing dream-board.

Hmm.

Unfortunately, Suzanne also played a large role

in the dreams I had the next night.

No.

Hmm.

Yes. Yes.

And the night after that.

Suzanne.

What the [bleep] is the matter with me?

Oh, Suzanne.

Suzanne. Suzanne.

To my great frustration,

it appeared that my sleeping brain

was constantly dwelling on my ex-wife.

Perhaps if Suzanne had been

more willing to open the door to me,

she and I could have moved on from one another

in a healthier way.

Ugh. Oh, [bleep].

And my dreams would be free to explore other ideas.

Come on. Come on. Suzanne!

Amazingly, this prlem persisted for 27 nights.

Suzanne! Finally, I could wait no more.

If this task were ever to be completed,

I would simply have to reenact

a dream that involved Suzanne.

Would she cooperate or thwart my life's work?

There was only one way to know.

Looking back on it now, it occurs to me that

when people speak of making a dream come true...

... they are usually referring to realizing an aspiration,

rather than reenacting the pointless

meanderings of a sleeping brain.

Ah.

I would like a hot dog, please.

They're free.

Thank you.

Perhaps that would have been a more meaningful exploration.

Forrest. I talked to the judge,

and he wants to end the trial

because he doesn't like you

and he wants you to go to jail.

Suzanne!

This was the moment of truth.

Suzanne!

I needed Suzanne to act in a very specific way

and had no idea if she would comply.

Go away, Forrest.

Incredibly, Suzanne played her role to perfection.

Then I woke up. Perfect!

Haha, we did it. Great job, everybody.

That was exactly how I dreamed it.

Oh, you know what? I should get dressed.

Psychiatrists have argued

that our dreams provide windows

into our true inner thoughts.

Speaking as a man who has lived one of those dreams,

I'd say those doctors are all frauds and hucksters.

But a group project is always fun.

So, making your dream come true gets four stars.

Forrest, that's the end

of the first episode of season three!

Well, we're just getting started, A.J.

We'll see you next time on "Review."

"Review."

Synced and corrected by Dragoniod for www.addic7ed.com

Extra cheese!