All language subtitles for grotesquerie.s01e10.1080p.web.h264-successfulcrab_track3_[eng]

♪ ♪

[sighs deeply]

[sniffles, exhales]

[sobs]

[exhales]

[sighs]

♪ ♪

[insects trilling]

["Dedicated to You"
by John Coltrane playing]

♪ If I should write ♪

♪ A book for you ♪

♪ That brought me fame ♪

♪ And fortune, too ♪

♪ That book would be... ♪

[sighs]

You can't be here.

Lois, please come sit.

Please.

Redd, would you come out
and sit as well?

She's making her famous, uh,
Cincinnati chili

and lavender lemonade.

We-we weren't sure

where you were
with your sobriety, but--

so we have options.

Cincinnati what?

Chili. It's, um...

the secret is cinnamon
and unsweetened chocolate, yes?

- And Worcestershire sauce.
- Oh.

[Redd]
And of course, mild cheddar.

- The sharp doesn't melt right.
- Mmm.

- Good?
- That's good.

- Mmm. Mmm.
- Great!

What the fuck is
this freak show?

[rattling]

Come. Come, come. Come sit.

I'll make you something.

Now, please, just hear me out.

Admittedly,
we have screwed a lot up.

We haven't been guardians
of our good fortune,

such as the miracle
of your recovery.

There's so much good,

so much worth holding on to.

Like?

Cheers, honey.

A structure.
A foundation. A history.

Merritt may well be finding
happiness of, uh, of some sort,

but I think she still needs us.

She needs a united front.

Let's follow the example

of the young.

Let's all live together.

Marshall, are you insane?

We've served each other
divorce papers--

Nothing is final yet.

You said you hated me!
[laughs]

So what? Me, you,

and the gourmet madam,

we all gonna share
the same bed or what?

Oh, well, no, uh, no.
That's, that's not exactly it.

- And not,
not that I'm not fluid--
- No, no, no.

That part of us...
[chuckling]

That part of us-- you and I--

- is over.
- [Redd chuckles] Marshall thinks

that he and I should move
into the guest room

and you should stay
where you are.

And you're all right with this?

Well, I did live
in a commune... [chuckles]

...for a couple of months
in the 1980s.

And... well, none of us are
getting any younger,

no spring chickens here.
[laughs]

And I do like cooking
for a crowd.

The old ways don't work anymore.
Th-There must be new paradigms.

I love you.

I do not hate you.

One says things in life,
but... family.

Ed, your affair with Ed,

everything we've done
to each other...

Fuck.

Don't tell me
I am still in a coma

and I'm dreaming?

Am I?

[chuckling]
No.

[chuckling]

You gaslit me for years.

Let me be clear, Marshall.

I intend to move forward
with this divorce

smoothly and efficiently.

I don't want to love
or hate you.

I just want to be at peace
with what you are.

But, Lois,
we have an opportunity

to do something deep,

- something-something better.
- [shushing]

Marshall, I told you
she wouldn't go for this.

You know, women our age,
we can't forgive these things.

Please, Lois.

[sighs] I need
both of you so badly.

Accountability is everything.

Please.

Just...

Jesus. Go.

Just go.

[door opens]

[door slams]

♪ ♪

How the fuck did I end up
in this terrible desert town?

- But...
- [stammers] It offers nothing.

Nothing!

I mean, there's no, there's
no decent proper movie theatre,

there's-- If you want a bagel,
good luck.

And th-there's not even
a decent florist.

[stammers] I thought
you liked silence.

I hate it!

What's that about?

And I think I hate you, too,
a little bit,

you know, just to be
perfectly frank.

Yeah. God.

Yeah, I suppose
this is the moment

that I-I-I tell you, yeah.

Tell me?

I know. I know.

I know it now

because I suspected
and I found out.

Why did you seduce me
if you didn't really want me?

What are you talking about?

Oh, oh, stop.

[laughing]

[mocking]
Oh, what are you talking about?

One of the women came to see me.

And she'd spoken to several
other faculty wives.

Yeah, I do hope
you find some way

of, you know, addressing
this compulsion.

- Fucking in--
- Y-You should know. I fight it.

For many, many years,
I-I believed in a moral code.

No, but we now know

that such a thing
does not matter.

Wh-What? So-so now
you just take whatever you want?

But hear me. Hear me here.

This plan that you just
presented to Lois,

I only went along with it
for one reason.

Which is?

I knew she'd turn you down.

And I wanted to be present

for your final humiliation.

[inhales]

Oh, geez, I've got to get
to the club.

I've got to get
those girls in shape.

Their pasties keep falling off

and I don't think
it's an accident.

♪ ♪

I have so much love to share.
I love you.

- I love my wife.
- I know.

But...

I'll give you
till the end of the week,

and then I want you gone.

It will be like
you never happened.

Kind of a bad dream.

Which is meant to be forgotten.

♪ ♪

[Marshall]
But maybe the management
of our terror has been

unequal to the task?
Like during the end of days

of the Roman empire, we too face
insurmountable obstacles,

internal decay
and external pressure.

And economically,

economically growing
inequality and instability.

Rome used slave labor.

Well, we do too, really.

Does that sound familiar?

Because they too had
environmental collapse.

Rome's moral decline is
just like today's.

We-we-we see it all around us.
We see it all around us.

No moral coherence
or consequences.

Add to that cyber warfare

and a cascade
of global conflicts

we insist on meddling in,
and ladies and gentlemen,

welcome to Ancient Rome!

[door closes]

And, uh...

just like Rome...

...we still cling to our...

...outmoded modes of how to be.

Our small gods,

our prayers...

...the very ways
we manage our terror...

...they did no good
in Ancient Rome

and they do no good here today.

It's every...

every man for themselves.

Thank you, class.
That... that's it for today.

I-I need this space,
I need to talk

to these fine officers
that are coming here today.

Thank you. Thank you so much.

[door opens]

[Hanover]
Professor.

Hi.

[door shuts]

Hello, Chief.
W-What can I do for you?

Professor, a student of yours,
Mary Colsby,

has made a very serious charge
against you.

Against me?

Sexual assault.

Is this Ms. Colsby?

Y-Yes. Yes.

Uh-- Gale, look,

Ms. Colsby and I had
a relationship,

but it was as consenting adults.

Uh-- there was no assault,

much less a rape.

And we even parted
on-on good terms.

[chuckles]
Uh... this is not true.

She has a very
different account.

And we have to ask you
to come downtown with us.

A-Am-- am I under arrest?

Marshall, I am not cuffing you
and not making a spectacle,

but you are in custody, yes.

Wh-- What...

W-What about my work?
My-my teaching?

My-my-my job?

W-What's gonna happen to me?

I think if the past is
any indication, you'll be fired.

What about my word?
W-What, my...

D-Don't I have a say in t-th...

- I-I'm gonna fight this.
- You will have the chance to.

I-I will. This is,
this is just another instance

of a Black man being strung up
on the word of a woman.

Th-- Uh, no, no.
Look, look. Look.

My texts.

The texts. Look. Look.

Listen: "Marshall,
I'm glad we can remain friends,

"you did the right thing,
and you were gracious

"and kind in doing it.

It makes me love you more."

Does-does that sound
like something

y-you'd send to a rapist?
But look, here's-- look:

"Marshall,
I'm free between classes.

Do you want to meet for coffee?"

Does that? Or-or "Marshall,
I need your advice

"on which modern history
professor you like.

- Is Hartley okay?"
- And yet, we have her account

and the D.A. decided
to go ahead.

- And I tend to believe women
in these matters.
- [Marshall] Megan.

I am sorry.

Megan...

It's addiction, isn't it?

Addiction? S-Stop. Wait.

Y-You have these-these,
uh, pathologies

that you don't have
the slightest understanding

of what you're saying.

T-The, the-- Everyone's
an amateur shrink these days.

You cannot continue to destroy
people's lives in this manner.

Megan, is there
something you can do?

[stammers]

How many times have you dined
at our house? Uh...

Meg-Megan.

Marshall, call your lawyer.

[receding]
We're gonna print you

and we're gonna take a picture

and you'll be home by dinner.

♪ ♪

[indistinct radio chatter]

You're being released
on your own recognizance.

I suggest you find
some sort of help.

You need it.

[door opens]

[Marshall]
It makes no sense to pretend

to be some ancient stoic
enduring what comes,

when all my choices have led me
to this dark wood.

It makes no sense
to try and salvage

the marriage, the career.

The stain of my mistakes
cannot be expunged,

like the woman in the play
who said, "Out, damn spot."

When a man of my generation,
color, is marked,

the expulsion from the world
of the living

is all that is left.

I might be remembered

for some small bit of good,
I hope.

I love so many people, so much.

How it hurts to disappoint them.

I suppose this is the last proof
that I am indeed, still,

for a few minutes at least,

still a member
of the human race.

[Marshall]
Am I dead?

[Redd]
Well, let's see.

[monitor beeping steadily]

No.

Trazodone and Ambien can,
of course, do the trick,

but in a man your size,
with a full stomach...

And, luckily, you were low
on your prescriptions.

I found you.

They pumped your stomach, and...

yeah, here we are.

Was it a cry for help?

Or a real attempt?

Nothing has changed
between us, Marshall.

I know about the arrest.

How?

This is not a large city.

Your daughter's here.
I called her.

[grunts]

[weakly]
I don't want to see her.

Oh, what you want
is beside the point.

You've made your position clear.

Sometimes I think
it's brave to leave.

It's no achievement to stay
if you hate this party.

But it's also, it's terribly
cowardly at the same time.

My understanding of philosophy

made me accept the nothingness
that is to come.

Which you would have poured
all over your daughter,

drenched her in it,
you selfish man.

[monitor beeping steadily]

And now, you've taken away
everyone's choice.

We can only be angry
and grateful

and angry and grateful
until we are not.

[Redd sniffling]

I'll give you a few days
to get your things and get out.

I don't have
anything left to say...

...other than...

...I apologize...

...for what's left of my self.

The so-called self.

Dad, listen to me.

Just listen.

You are the only father
that I have.

But you make it really hard

for me to still want
to know you.

But I-I do.

I don't know
how to turn off loving you.

I don't want to see a world
without you in it.

I have so much life to come.

Like, so much.

Children.

Pain, love.

Fear.

A crazy mother.

Please.

Please try to think of a time

that's gonna be better
than this moment.

[sniffles] It's possible.

It's possible. Maybe better.

I...

I don't-- I don't know if...

- I don't know if I can.
- [sniffles]

Maybe this moment
is the best I can hope for.

Well, then so be it.

That has to be enough.

♪ ♪

[inhales]

I love you so much.

[sighs]

♪ ♪

[phone buzzes]

[sets mug down]

[typing on phone keyboard]

♪ ♪

[engine idling]

What is this, Ed?

Just come with me, Marshall.

I joined a group.

A men's group that helped me.

♪ ♪

[exhales]

What, uh...

what happened to the mullet?

I had to face some hard truths.

I cut it.

All part of...

cleaning up my act.

What kind of group is this, exactly?

Is it religious?

No.

Support and brotherhood.

'Cause we all got one thing
in common.

And that is?

Let me ask you a question.

Are you an angry man?

Have I sensed that before?

My anger...

[chuckles]
...it is my salvation.

♪ ♪

- [engine shuts off]
- [doors open]

[door shuts]

[Smythe via speech tech]
Gentlemen,

tonight is special.

[water dripping]

A new friend is among us.

One who is lost.

It is our duty
to show him the way.

We cannot be afraid
of offending people.

That is the price of honesty.

And tonight we will invite
our new friend

to have an honest conversation.

Hello, Ed.

And hello, Professor.

You get used to the mustiness
of the space.

I am Dr. Milton Smythe.

Ed has spoken often of you.

We've chosen to interview you

so we all can get to know you.

Sit, gentlemen,

so we can complete
the circle of truths.

Welcome to the Mexicali Men's Club.

- [lamp buzzing softly]
- [water dripping]

Professor, the, uh...

the new pronouns--

how do you feel about them?

Yes.

Your question
about the new pronouns.

I-I have many students
who are trying

to define and explore
their identities.

Um...

We have discussions,

and I do ask them what pronouns
they'd like to use.

But, you know, I-I-I will admit,

I-I'm getting confused,

trying to keep up
with the variants,

such as xe...

xe-xem...

xyr. I, you know...

I-I-- But I get it, you know...

- [men] Boo. Boo.
- [Eddie] Hey, shut the fuck up.

How 'bout we have some decency?

[door closes]

It is confusing,

but it costs absolutely nothing

to respect those
who don't follow your norms.

So, if you can't
get on board with that,

then just shut it.

Now, Marshall, how do you see

the role of men
in the culture, um, shifting?

There's a revolution.

A correction.

And-and some of these
are too drastic. Uh...

Witch hunts.
Men being accused of

and convicted without evidence.

Like you?

Men and boys being marginalized.

And-and now,
men who point them out

are perceived as predatory

and-and dangerous.

[chair scrapes floor]

As a result
of all these accusations,

we're becoming
the defensive gender.

Second-guessing our nature
to the degree that is cancerous,

as though strong men
are frightening.

But I think...

I think weak men
are much more dangerous.

- Yes. Yes.
- [cheering and applause]

Yes. Yes.

- [applause stops]
- Strength is everything.

I mean, I remember
working at that mall

wearing that damn
Cinnabon outfit

all up and down those halls.

I couldn't even
take it off on my break.

You guys have no idea.
My lowest moment,

even though
I was the night manager,

was when I would walk by women

and they would laugh in my face,
like I was nothing.

I was just trying
to make a living.

That crushed me.

I had to learn not to just
be angry, you know?

Because the stronger path--

and I learned this
with the men in this room--

...was to find
success and rigor.

And that is hard.

It is.

It is.

[Eddie]
Marshall, you were recently

"Me Too'd" and cancelled,

and-and I believe,

and I know the founders
of this group believe,

[door closes]

...that you can't just
erase people

who make mistakes.

So how do we move forward?

I am...

...frankly struggling with this.

I am angry that

a consensual affair

between adults
was used to hurt me.

And I'm...

I'm now sullied,

- and my name is...
- Has been destroyed,

and that sucks.

Damaged, at the very least.

But it's now up to me
to reclaim it somehow

and not shy away from the fight

to seek truth

and insist on what is right.

We're folding.

Did you know that men

die of suicide in far greater
numbers than women?

[men murmuring]

And I'm going to admit right now

that I recently
attempted suicide.

W-W-Where does it end?

Perhaps the issue is that

we need to return to a...

a much more traditional
model for society.

[cheering and applause]

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Uh, yes, sir,
you have something to add?

[Smythe via speech tech]
A return to individual
responsibility,

the importance of hierarchy

and order,

correct?

Yes.

Yes, I believe that a way
to return to those principles

is through consequences.

Many of the men
in this room have said...

...given everything
that's going on around us,

the crime, the lawlessness,

- the divisive culture...
- Mm.

...that it feels like
we're living

- in a goddamn horror movie.
- [men agreeing]

- Am I right?
- [men] Yeah.

Have you ever felt that?

Perhaps it is time
to find the boogeyman

and slaughter it,

so that it never again
rises out of the lake

or out of the fog

or never again
tries to take what is ours.

I think I speak for all of us...

Welcome to the
Mexicali Men's Club, Professor.

- [cheering and applause]
- [Eddie] We would love
for you to join us

as we seek a way out
of this nightmare.

Please stand
and be acknowledged.

[cheering and applause continue]

Maybe she heard about my dad

and decided to do it
to herself, too.

But she called me
on her way here.

She checked herself in.
She said she was scared.

Yes, that's what
Admissions said.

Yeah, well, I tried to see her,

but she doesn't want to see me
or anyone. Just you.

Merritt, how are you?

Both parents in extreme crisis--

this is a lot to handle.

Dr. Witticomb, I'm okay.

I just need you to figure out
what's happening to her.

Please.

I think I'm dead.

Really dead.

[Witticomb]
Literally dead?

You're the only person I trust
to confirm it.

The nurses let me see
my blood pressure

and my pulse, but...
I didn't believe it.

What happened, Lois?

It all came together, a shock.

The world is not real.

And I've crossed over.

I thought about

cutting my carotid
with a pair of poultry shears.

But you didn't.

So, that's good.

What started it?

I realized
I never really woke up

from that coma, did I?

I am in some otherworld.

The otherworld.

And you think
I'm not real either?

I've accompanied you here?

Maybe to take you back?

You are very much alive.
Listen to me.

There's a neuropsychiatric
condition,

Cotard's syndrome,

and what it is, is you just
simply think you're dead,

or your organs are putrefying,

or the world is an illusion,

but mostly you're dead.

It is a reaction to
going through too much to bear.

Now, s-stay with me.

What triggered it?

First thing?

It was... [chuckles]
I couldn't believe it.

Marshall asked me to be a part
of some sort of ménage

with him and his girlfriend.

Utterly surreal.

- Mm.
- I'm very fluid.

But it's the new paradigm.

The man I knew
would have never done that,

nor would Redd.

It's the otherworld.

A kind of hell, made up

of sick jokes so elaborate...
[scoffs]

...nothing living
could construct them.

And what else? What else
made you think you were dead?

My doctor.

Dr. Charles Mayhew.

[scoffs]

He was having orgies in my room.

[woman moaning]

[Lois]
I could hear it. I even

saw some of it

through the curtains
around my bed.

Like flashes of a nightmare.

My doctor,
a supposed man of virtue,

was also an agent of chaos.

So I confronted him.

Having sex parties?

These are exactly the kinds
of tricks that our mind

plays on us when we emerge
from these coma states.

There are many
different hallucinatory

electrical storms
that can occur.

I mean, certainly
you don't actually believe

that I'm having orgies in here?

Yes, I fucking do.

I do believe it. Mm-hmm.

You know why?

Because you are not
who or what you say you are.

It's some sort of

- demonic rite--
- I really wish

that you understood

how even the suggestion
of impropriety

would not be good for me
in this day and age,

even if nobody believed you,

which, for the record,
they won't. Nobody will.

They simply won't.
I fucking saved your life.

I know what I heard.

I heard it.

Mm. I also recall,

in my coma state,

a story about a young girl
who got impregnated

against her will

while she was unconscious.

You did that, didn't you?

- Uh... So, fuck you.
- You did it.

Uh, and I never did
any of those vile things.

In fact, I'm the one
who saved your life. Um...

God, I feel so fucking sorry
for your husband.

You're an impossible woman.

You're insufferable,
and you're so

judgmental of him and me
and, I'm assuming, all men.

You are corrosive
to your fucking core, Lois.

Multiple times, your husband
came up to me and...

he said something
to the effect of,

"Hey, you know,
just between you and me,

"couldn't you just
accidentally bump the switch?

"Turn off the machine
that's keeping her alive

and send the old vegetable
on up to heaven?"

And I always thought that
the guy was fucking with me,

but now I realize
that he was so insistent

on wanting you to fucking die

because you are such
a massive fucking bitch.

I see now,
very clearly, that you

would not have
ascended into heaven,

but rather descended into hell.

Because it is a place that you
create for yourself, every day

and every hour
with your arrogance

and your confident
false superiority.

It is a hell of your own making
in which you burn yourself

and everyone else

who you come into contact with.

This is not the real world.

This is the otherworld,

and I... I am dead.

And he's right.

[sniffles]

I...

created this hell
I am in somehow.

[Witticomb]
Lois, I promise you, this is

temporary. Please, trust me.

Tell me,

what else convinced you
you were in the otherworld?

The only reason I can confess...

...is 'cause I'm dead.

I killed someone.

A terrible man
beating women. Megan,

the one who has my job, her man.

Cold blood.

An execution, really.

- [gunshot]
- [body thuds]

[Witticomb]
Where's the body, Lois?

Did you... dispose of it?

[Lois]
See? S-S-S-See, this is
what I'm saying.

This is where it gets strange

and odd, okay? I left the scene.

I told Megan
I would take care of it

'cause I needed
to get my head together.

- I needed to get supplies
and stuff, you know?
- Supplies?

Y-Yes. Um, shovel,
trash bag, lime.

I wasn't in my right mind.

I was so stunned
I lost track of time.

I don't even know how long
I had been driving.

And then I got my shit together,

and I said, "No. No, no, no.

"You are not going
to cover this up because

this was self-defense."

This was a bad man,

another bad man.

I said,
"Let me get my shit together

and go back and face
what I have done."

And?

Megan was gone.
The body was gone.

The entire room
was scrubbed clean.

No body, no crime.

And I'm thinking,

"The cleaners have been here,

and they covered all this up."

- The cleaners?
- People

who specialize
in the art of the cover-up.

Erasing traces of blood,

viscera, brain smear,

- what have you.
- [Witticomb] Such as?

[Lois]
The best one I know
in the vicinity

is Glorious McKall.

I mean, she's...
she was an acquaintance.

So what did you do?

I went silent.

I went deep.

I followed Megan in my car.

And guess what I found?

- [Witticomb] Hmm?
- Proof.

♪ ♪

And I confronted her ass.

What are you looking at?

I got you, you sneaky bitch.

- Oh, yes.
- Lois?

What's going on? You seem--

Unhinged?

Ding, ding, ding.

I killed him

to help you out.

And then you move the body,
you clean up my mess,

and you don't say anything?

Glorious McKall would do that.

She would take her victims
and grind them up

and feed them to her hogs.

Is that what you had her do?

Lois...

sit down.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

- I saw you with her.
- With who?

Glorious McKall.

I saw you talking to her.

Getting her to clean up my mess.

What I want to know is
why you didn't say anything.

- Why?
- Lois...

I did meet with Glorious

to help her.

A member of her crew was
having a fentanyl moment,

she was very emotional about it.

This man was like her son.

I've known her for several
cases, so I met with her.

I offered resources.

That's what you saw.

Where's the body?

Where's your man?

My man?

Justin.

I haven't seen him in weeks.

I don't know.

Lois, listen to me.

You're messed up.

You need help.

Let me help you.

[Lois]
She said I needed sleep.

Care.

As if I could
accept that anymore.

[laughs]

In that moment...

the chaos and the madness,

it all flashed together,

and I realized...

...I have crossed over.

I-- I'm in the place...

...that you go to
in the afterlife,

and I'm being forced
to live in my sorrow,

my misdeeds...

and my wreckage.

- [taps on table]
- This.

This is...

my hell I am forced to live in.

And you...

you are just a clever demon,

who's sent to torture me
with comfort.

Lois, that's not true.

I care about you,
your well-being.

And I think you know that
to be true.

And then there's
the final reason

that I have
a hard time accepting

that I'm back in any kind
of literal reality.

It's the last piece

of the jigsaw puzzle.

[Witticomb]
The piece right in the center,

connected to everything else?

[Merritt]
That's the middle piece.

Goes in the center.

It connects everything.

You don't miss a detail, do you?

There was a quintuple homicide,

all under one roof.

A whole family.

The mother, the father,

the baby,

the damn pot on stove.

Just like my dream, it happened.

Where did it happen?
Was it local?

I didn't read about it
in the news or online.

Media blackout.

Procedure.

Lois, what are you getting at?

A copycat killer,

who copied my dreams.

And the only person

who could have done that...

...has access to my files.

You know what the fuck
I'm getting at.

[chuckles softly]

Lois, you are a singular

and unique case.

The interviews we did
following your emergence

from the coma state,
these recordings,

they are
immensely valuable resources

to those in neuroscience,

neurocognition, philosophy.

I told you this when we began.

You signed, your entire family
signed waivers,

giving us permission to record
and document this process

and share them internally for
scientific research purposes.

How many people,

Doctor,

have access to my file?

- Who?
- Hundreds.

- How many people?
- Your daughter,

for one, a medical professional

with access
to the medi-platform.

Anybody who has access to your
computer or your passwords.

Your husband could be a suspect.

We could write
an exhaustive list, but

there's another,
more likely suspect, no?

Someone...

somebody who knows
these grotesqueries

better than anyone.

You.

You just said moments ago
that you murdered a man

"in cold blood,
execution style."

We are talking about a person

that killed a baby.

You think I'm capable of that?

Well, let's examine this
like a detective:

rationally,
scientifically, logically.

You recount losing time,

disassociating,
seeing things that aren't there.

You spent years denying

how sick your job made you.

I've seen your cases.

A woman in a world
of crime and killers

trying, almost by herself,
to manifest justice?

All alone?

Is not that the motive
of Grotesquerie?

Is he not a machination
of your own mind?

Didn't you murder that--

Stop.

I am still in it.

I am still in a coma.

Stuck in an endless circle.

There is established wisdom
in my field.

Do not tell a delusional person
they are living in a delusion.

But I'm gonna
level with you, Lois.

I don't think
you murdered that family.

I don't think there was
a quintuple murder.

You are awake.

The world is real.

But you are hearing and seeing
things that are not--

If it's all in my head,

why all the religious imagery?

Because you convinced yourself
you were the last good person

in the world: a cross between
a saint, a crusader,

a holy warrior, a prophet.

When all you are,
all you were,

in reality,
is a small-town detective

in a very, very dark time.

[clicks tongue]

I'm gonna go to my room now.

Thank you.

[keys jangling]

[creaking]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

[locks buzzing]

[keys jangling]

[key turning in lock]

[creaking]

[Megan crying]

[sniffles]

[sobbing loudly]

Again, I need to apologize.

For falling apart back there
where you were getting care.

And I hate myself for coming
to you and asking for help

when you're clearly
in the middle

of a mental health crisis.

Then why did you?

When they called me
to this crime scene...

[swallows loudly]

Sorry, it's a lot.
It's-it's worse for me,

even than
the recent family murder

with remains in a boiling pot.

Worse how?

- It's--
- I-I've been here before.

It's bigger.

It's... more calculated.

It's immense...

in its scope.
Beyond me, I think.

And because I know some
of these people slaughtered.

Lois...

...you-you-y...

you know some of them, too.

I'm done.

- I'm done.
- Lois. Lois.

Please. We need you.

I need you.

- None of this is real anyway.
- Lois, it is real.

[whispering]
It is real.

I promise.

What's here... is... is evil.

Do I believe in the devil?
No, I do not.

What I believe is here today,
these...

these astounding murders
by Grotesquerie,

have been created by someone
who understands

that fear

is what
the devils who walk amongst us,

the mortal devils we all know,
created

so we could stay in line.

You are not dead.

You are not dead.

You, here, right now--

promise you, I promise,
I promise, this is real.

[quietly]
You did shoot my boyfriend.

I did call Glorious McCall
to get rid of the body.

That happened.

Sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Why...

did you lie to me?

'Cause I had to protect you
from my mistake.

[sighs]

Please.

[inhales]

[sighs]

Show me.

♪ ♪

[door opens]

[door closes]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

The Jesus figure. He...

He touched me.

My heart.

He moved you?

He literally touched my heart.

With defibrillator paddles.

Shocked me back to life
from a very...

dark sleep.

Or so I thought.

Who are the rest
of these people, though?

- Homeless?
- Unhoused.

I was only able to identify

one other person.
Someone I knew vaguely.

Mary Colsby.

Who is she?

[Megan]
She was many things.

Most recently, the woman

who accused your husband
Marshall of assault.

♪ ♪

[inhales deeply]

My God. [sighs]

All right, people!

Bag every piece of evidence!

Print every surface!

Do your jobs and do them well.

Meet me in my old office
in one hour.

- You're gonna help us?
- Who else is gonna solve

this case, Jack? Her?

Lois, that's unkind
and fucking unnecessary.

And it's also the goddamn truth.

And we need to start telling
each other the truth.

Huh?

Jack, I know who did this.

♪ ♪

One hour.

♪ ♪

Captioned by
Media Access Group at WGBH
access.wgbh.org

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪