All language subtitles for Grotesquerie.S01E01x

Oh, fucking God.

Speak.

Oh.

S-Slow down.

How many?

Jesus.

You're not gonna believe this, Detective.

Try me.

Family's name is Burnside.

Dad was a radiologist at the university.
Mom was a nutritionist there too.

Three kids.

What the hell, Jack?

Just, uh...

Just hand it over to the feds, Lois.
We don't need it.

We don't.

The FBI? Why?

Because if this isn't a hate crime,
I don't know what is.

Hate against what?

Everything.

♪ Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Ooh ♪

♪ Oh, yeah ♪

♪ Same old story back again ♪

♪ She's not a lover, she's just a friend ♪

♪ ...to blame on me ♪

♪ Now you think it's funny ♪

The end is near!

You know it!

I'm gonna kill you.

I'm gonna kill you all.

Wake up!

Wake up!

The end is near.

You know it!

Get out of the way!

I'm gonna kill you,
you black fucking soul.

No, you're not. Well, not today.

I know where you live.
I know where you live.

I know where you live!

Wake up!

Wake up!

Mom.

Mom, can you bring the taquitos, please?
They're almost done.

And don't forget the avocado salsa.

Yeah, avocado.

Fucking taquitos.

Christ.

What is perspective?
What is perspective?

We'll accept perspective or perception.

This word embodies
all of the elements based on

the Latin number quinque.

What is quintessence?
What is quintessence?

Yes, you are right for 800.

Go West, 800.

Lewis and Clark were chosen
to explore this newly acquired territory.

What is Louisiana Purchase?

...the Louisiana Purchase?

Now that's 400 to you...

You should really go on this show.

It's not the show I wanna go on, Mom.
You know that.

But you would win. Big.

You would win big too.

Since we wanna talk about what people
should be doing, what about the bike, huh?

Mm-mmm.
You bought it over a month ago.

I haven't seen you on it once.

That's not the ride
I wanna take right now.

That thing's a killer. No, ma'am.

My goodness.

Let me see if I can get this. Come on.

...and jet lag?

What is melatonin?
What is melatonin?

Let's see...

Let me see.

That's the middle piece.
Goes in the center.

Look.

You should put it there.
Everything else will connect.

- And how do you know that?
- 'Cause I can tell.

How's that rash, Mom?

- Let me see it.
- Uh-uh.

Let's just keep watching this.

Hmm. All right.

Told you you need to be using
that ointment.

The last thing you want
is to get an infection.

You remember how I was
when I got that bed sore.

I don't need you mothering me, Merritt.
I don't.

Who is Calliope?
Who is Calliope?

I just wanna enjoy my goddamn drink...

...and decompress.

That's it.

Something happened. What happened?

Work? What happened?

You never ask me about work.

You never ask me questions.
You say you don't wanna know.

Okay, so now I do.

Something's not right with you.

- What's going on?
- Leave it be.

- Leave it be.
- Yeah, something's off with you. Whatever.

Okay. You know what I'ma do?

I'm going to bed.

And I will go see Marshall tomorrow.

This divide separates
water flowing to the Pacific Ocean

from water flowing to the Atlantic Ocean.

- What is the Continental Divide?
- What is the Continental Divide?

ECMO machine supplies oxygen
straight to the blood.

Patient has had dialysis twice.
Excessive acid in the body fluids.

Prolonged endotracheal intubation--
that's anything exceeding seven days.

And Mister Tryon here
has been on the ventilator for

28 days.

Can we name any of the associated risks?

Myopathy.

- Mm-hmm.
- Diaphragm dysfunction.

Uh, yes, correct. Gold stars all around.
Excuse me.

Mrs. Tryon.

If I could have a moment.

Reassess?

R-Reassess what?

It's a cost-benefit analysis.

We're not a major hospital.

Because we want to keep Marshall
on life support long-term,

there are places that'll do that.

And to be clear,
I'm encouraging this approach.

W-What would you do, um,
if it were your husband?

Look.

Let's just be real, okay?

Fight for your man.

Do everything you can to preserve
his life, his extraordinary mind.

My God, this man's a keeper,
and I think you know that.

I'm very fond of him.

Okay.

I don't mean to be crass, Nurse Redd,
but you don't really know him.

Mmm.

He's...

He's not with us.

I don't feel his spirit anymore.

Oh, it's there.

It is there behind the tubes

and the toes and fingers
curling in twisted, hideous rigor mortis.

Even when I wipe this man's arse, I--

Excuse me?

Well, you don't do it, do you?

I do.

I'm a nurse.

That is what I do.

My God, the mind of this man.

A man of letters,

a professor of literature.

I get a shiver in my quiver
just thinking about it.

Are you aware there are studies

that suggest that individuals
in medically-induced comas

are aware of their surroundings?

Helpful hint:

maybe when you are here,
be a little more attentive. Hmm?

Present.

- Excuse me?
- Yes.

According to my records, this is what
occurred the last time you visited.

At 7:35, you arrived
and mumbled something that sounded like,

"Hey, how you doing?"

Not very loving.

What in the fuck?

Do you have cameras in his room
recording me?

As a matter of fact, I do.

I had them installed in every room
on that floor

ever since an orderly impregnated
a very ripe young woman in a coma in 2019

under my unsuspecting watch.

And my hospital was forced to settle
an unseemingly large, vulgar lawsuit.

At 7:39,
after a brief period of hand-holding,

you became distracted by your iPhone
and began scrolling through--

Let me ask you.

You ever been married?

'Cause my guess is no.

You're correct.

This is what marriage is.

Showing up.

White-knuckling it through the pain
and regret,

and fucking watching TMZ
and playing Candy Crush.

'Cause at this point,
after all these years,

there are no more cocktail conversations
to be had.

You have a good day.

And one more thing:

mind your goddamn business.

You understand?

I don't take shit.

And while I appreciate
your care of my husband--

my husband--

I won't be judged by you

or anybody else at this point in my long,
exhausted life.

That part.

He knows.

He hears.

He feels!

There's nothing there.

All the DNA is from the family's.

And the secretion stuff is still
unidentifiable and headed to the CDC.

No fibers, no cleaning agents, no bleach.

No prints? No cleaning?

It seems almost impossible.

Lois.

Lois!

The, uh...

Quantico is sending
a... [stutters] ...lab team,

but they won't find anything we missed
because we didn't miss anything.

What do we know about the family?

Well, by all accounts,
the Burnsides are

a comfortable, loving, thriving family

made up of goodwill, good jobs,
good grades.

You have to really hate people
to do something like this.

It's... It's inhuman.

No, it's unhuman.

And more than that, you have to have done
something like this before.

This is... This is not a first-timer.

No, that takes expertise.

We're checking all the databases,

but nothing similar is coming up
as far back as records go.

Something about it
seems so familiar to me.

Like... Like I've seen it before.

Detective, there's some, uh, nun
here to see you.

Says she's with
this Catholic news service or something.

A reporter nun?

Sister?
- Thank you. Yes.

I'm Sister Megan. You made time for me.

I really didn't have much choice.

Can't turn away a nun at the door.

Our dear Lord and savior might swoop down
and kick my ass for that.

- Hmm.
- I'm sorry?

You are young,

and the first nun I've ever seen

- with a cell phone in her pocket.
- Hmm.

What is it I can do for you?

- You have information about the Burnsides?
- No.

It's hard to explain.

Is there somewhere we can sit?

I could buy you a coffee
if you have the time.

I don't, but we have good coffee here.

My husband got us
one of those machines from Italy.

- It's--
- Oh, wow.

That sounds perfect.

This way.

I don't understand why
the Catholic Guardian

is interested in murder.

We're a more progressive weekly newspaper

put out by the followers of St. Claret,
who was a writer.

Uh-huh.

We're funded by the Order of Claretians.
It's an order based on knowledge.

We put faith in the context
of everyday life

and are more focused on social justice.

Mmm.

So liberal Catholics?

You wanna drive traffic to your dwindling
online site by talking about murder.

Eh. The more gruesome, the better.

The more traffic, the more readership.

Am I right?

The truth is,
my reporting on crimes and cults

has increased
our online readership significantly.

Crimes and cults.

As a person of faith,
I'm interested in rituals and cults

and their place in American life now--

their replacing traditional avenues
of worship,

and the way the battle between good
and evil is manifested through them.

And you think the Burnsides
were murdered ritually.

How do you know that?

The Burnsides were devout,
devout believers in social justice,

in the church as a place of justice
and refuge.

Their priest

is a friend of mine.

- I would like to talk to him.
- Of course.

Detective,

you have an entire family murdered.

Is that correct?

I have an ongoing investigation
into five homicides in one house.

Go on.

On background.

The mother, Alison Burnside,
and her two children

were tied up
with some sort of tactical wire.

The father was salted and peppered,

seasoned with fennel seed and cayenne,

and roasted for two hours
in a 375-degree oven

...with sunchokes and baby carrots.

Mr. Burnside's cheeks were thinly sliced--

think carpaccio--

and served along with his liver, lungs
and kidneys...

in some sort of a sauce

that we have yet to identify.

And there is evidence
that the family had eaten some of this.

And then, um...

there is the matter of, um, the...

You know.

Please, please, please, please!

I don't know.

What was boiling in the pot?

Think about the worst thing...

you could never unsee boiling in a pot.

That's your answer right there.

The mother and her children
died of heart failure.

Do you understand this?

They were watching,
and their hearts stopped beating.

Died of some sort of, uh, acute shock

watching this.

And then we came in
because a neighbor, Mr. Burger,

reported hearing loud chamber music
at 3:00 a.m.

What kind of chamber music?

Vodka, Sister?

Mozart.

The "Requiem."

It's the "Requiem"?

Yes. How did you know?

It seemed to fit.

Did you guess?

Really?

You... You guessed?

Tell me more, Sister.

And why do you say "it fits"?

Is there something else
you're not sharing?

No.

I sensed it.

I sometimes... It's logic.

A kind of logic. Internally.

It's Mozart mourning death.

His own, really.

Well, maybe you could help me
with something else.

There was an odd liquid
all over the house,

and we still don't know what it is.

Maybe you can help me figure out
what that shit is too.

The smell changes every now and then
from citrus to amber,

then rotting flesh and so on.

A burning smell. Acrid.

Acrid?

It smells acrid?

That could be from hair burning.
The keratin.

I see.

Keratin burning.

So again, on background.

Why did you tell me all that
on background?

Maybe because you're a woman?

Maybe because the notion of a nun
who's a journalist covering crime--

I like it.

I don't really know.

Are you a person of faith?

That's it.
I'm not gonna tell you everything, Sister.

And you have no theories of the case?

No idea, no suspect, no clues of any kind?

It's like something you see in war.

What you are describing--
it's an atrocity, a war crime.

Something that happens in places where
there is no more hope and no more order.

Well, maybe that applies to here and now
and us.

I asked you before
if you are a woman of faith,

if you believe in the Lord.

Do you?

Do I believe someone died for my sins?

Do I believe in divinity?

In the redemptive power of...

of what?

No.

I do believe in prayer.

You?

Half the time.

Which is better than never.

Waters by ClearView invites you
to join the great escape to Florida.

Say so long to pollution, crime,
rising inflation and bleak winters.

Man, get us a five-dollar girl

up in here.

Do something strange
for a little piece of change.

So come on down. The sun is warm.

Who's ready for Monster Jam?

Back, back, back again.

What?

Syd, that you?

Thought you were going scuba diving
or something.

Who needs the Galapagos when you got
weekly mass murders right here at home?

Nance took the kids.

We had a wire on this place
six months ago.

I said we should've made a move then.

You don't bust these guys,
they just end up busting each other,

and at a far higher cost.

Lois, this wasn't a grab.

APB said armed B and E.
Where is everybody?

They're all inside.

Just call 'em.

The feds?

You don't get paid enough
to be dealing with this shit.

You don't know how much I make.

It's not enough.

Careful.

Cleaners took the day off.

Anyone who does not need to be in here
right now, take a smoke break.

Thank you.

Let's go, guys. Come on. Hustle up.

Oh, God.

Where's the blood, Jack?

Drained.

Drained where?

I couldn't tell you,
but before whomever, whatever staged them.

We haven't found a drop of it
anywhere in the house.

Just that fluid again.

Just like the Burnsides.

Find the blood, Jack.

I mean, it's either been dumped somewhere
or being stored.

Call Holcomb County,

get that team of
cadaver dogs down here to sniff it out.

Romans 6.

The fuck are you?

Sister, you cannot be here.
Out. Out, out, out.

Let's go. Out now.

Sorry.
What the fuck are you doing?

This is an active crime scene.

You know who comes to crime scenes?

Most of the times, it's-it's the perp,
and you can't--

You're right. I'm sorry. I'm gone.

Wait.

Come here.

Go inside, take notes.

And don't touch anything.

- Lois, what are you--
- Doing?

I'm putting
a fresh pair of eyes on it, Jack.

You got a problem with it?

Dr. Mayhew,
you have a visitor in the main lobby.

Dr. Mayhew, a visitor in the main lobby.

Taquitos, Marsh.

Two dozen.

Can you fucking believe it?

And I try to say,
"Slow down. Slow down on the calories."

She tells me, "Slow down on the drinking."

But since you've been in here,
she won't stop.

And now... [chuckles] ...she's determined
to be on this insane reality show.

Half-Ton something.

Mmm.

She made me watch it. I couldn't do it.

Mm-mmm. I couldn't do it.

She has aspirations
to be the star of this thing, Marsh.

Why would she want that?

I went by the old Five Spot Bar.

It's closed.

I guess you will go down in history

as the only man to ever
propose marriage to a woman in that dive.

And on the day I graduated
from the Academy.

Shit.

I pretended to be mad at you.

But a shiny new badge and
a diamond ring in the same afternoon?

I was a happy girl.

Come back to me.

Something is happening, and I...

and I need you.

I can't quite put my finger on it.

I don't...

I don't know how it started...

but it's like a hole opened up
in the world to the...

to the center of nothingness.

You would...

You... You would say...

"Evil has always existed
in the world, hon."

You would quote some...

statistic that said there was...

less murder, more health,
less global horror.

"Never been a better time
to be alive, hon."

That's what you would say.

I need you to c...

to come back, Marshall,
because it's not getting better.

I need to hear your answers on this.

Something...
Something is happening around us.

Nobody sees but me.

Stop!

What the fuck?

Mom, what is happening?

Get back in the house. Everything is fine.

Everything is fine?

Why are you firing your gun?

Have you lost your mind?

As a matter of fact, I have.

Get in the house.

Go, Merritt! Get your ass in the house!

Come on.

Come on.

I'm waiting.

"As he was raised
from the dead by the glory of the Father,

we too might walk in the newness of life."

It's interesting.

Christ is crucified and walks again.

The sinner is invited to walk with him,
yet whoever did this has cut them in half

as if to say
he is the final word on death.

Or she.

This... This case...

What?

Whoever is doing the devil's work here is...

Fucking with you?

Sister, language.

You are an odd little bird
for a goddamn nun.

So I've been told.

Also, just my two cents:

with the way the world is going--

horrible news
and cataclysms at every turn--

everything now feels personal
to everybody.

Maybe you're right.

I used to feel so tough.

I don't want this case.

Who else in your department
can you authorize to investigate it then?

Not a goddamn one of the men
that work for me, that's for sure.

Then I guess you're stuck with me.

The swearing nun.

Damned straight.

Okay, so...

we got the chemical report back

from the first crime scene
just before you arrived.

This is off the record.

Large concentrations of sulfur dioxide.

Someone is messing with you.

Go on, Cagney to my Lacey.

- That's brimstone.
- What?

From the Bible. It's what's in acid rain.
It's a curse, biblically.

It's-It's what's behind the acrid smell
you described before.

Um. "The breath of Yahweh,
like a stream of brimstone,

doth kindle it."

Book of Isaiah.

Or, "A third of mankind was killed
by these three plagues--

by the fire, the smoke,
and the brimstone--

which proceeded out of their mouths."

Book of Revelation.

Always comforting, that one.

Great.

A religious psychopath.