All language subtitles for Watchmen.Chapter.II.2024.1080p.BluRay.REMUX.AVC.DTS-HD.MA.5.1-TRiToN_track3_[eng]

There was
an announcement today

of a breakthrough

at the Institute
for Extraspatial Studies.

Researchers there have learned

of new energy sources
found in previously

unknown dimensions.

Tonight,
on the Benny Anger Show.

Citing rising tensions
with the Soviet Union,

scientists have moved
the Doomsday Clock

to 60 seconds to midnight.

Are we truly so close
to nuclear annihilation?

But first, we ask
the average citizen,

"Is America ready for war?"

So The Gazette

has this nuclear-attack
procedure article.

It says dead family members
should be wrapped

in garbage bags

and placed outside
for collection.

It sounds like
America getting ready for war

means Americans
getting ready to die.

Getting ready to die.

It's beautiful work.

I hope that ship
keeps it properly refrigerated

on its voyage.

If it decays--

It's plenty cold
where it's headed.

After two years
on this godforsaken island

creating the thing,
he'll make sure

it doesn't spoil
before the big reveal.

But, Ms. Manish,

I thought you'd be glad to see
the back of that damn thing,

not sketching the front.

Well, Mr. Shea,

I just wanted
some final sketches

of the facial assembly,

especially that amazing
beak structure.

"Amazing"?

You sound like
the scientists down there.

So caught up
in their own accomplishment,

blind to the horror
of this monstrosity

we dreamed up,

this nightmare they made real.

For one man's vision,

we've all gone through hell
and back.

But can we go back?

Think he'll let us off
this island?

We signed
the non-disclosure agreement,

we've been well compensated.

And our ship to the mainland
will be here in a few days.

Why such dark thoughts, Max?

Oh, well, yeah.
I'm sure you're right.

I guess in all this business,

there are more than a few
uncomfortable parallels

to an old comic book story
I wrote.

A vile little yarn from
Tales of The Black Freighter.

Adrift and starving,

my darkest imaginings
welled up unchecked,

spilling from brain to heart
like black ink.

Taxi!

I imagine Davidstown

overrun by The Freighter's
tattooed fiends.

My wife was almost
certainly dead.

I remembered her
and my beautiful daughters

waving goodbye
from the verandah.

Glad my Rosa
ain't alive to see this.

All now dead.

Everything's going to hell.

- Look at this. Look at this...
- Mm.

I imagined

my shipmates'
bloated corpses...

Doc Manhattan
leaves the planet...

...and the putrefying shark...

Russians
on the warpath.

...carrying
my raft to oblivion.

- Ozymandias attacked...
- All dead.

I tell ya.

It all reads like headlines
from ten years ago,

before they banned
all the masked avengers in '77.

Hey, speaking of,
you see this Rorschach item?

They finally caught him
last week.

Turns out
he was a customer here, huh?

Ror-- I mean, Walter Kovacs?
Interesting.

Incredible, right?

- Thank you.
- Yeah.

Makes you wonder

what makes a guy
like Rorschach tick?

Could probably go off
at any second.

Faced with
horrors both intolerable

and unavoidable,

I chose madness.

Hey, settle it down.

Hey, Rorschach.

You're pretty famous
around here.

I'd sure like
to get your autograph.

I got a pen right here.

Get that asshole! Kill him!

Come here, you son of a...

Get him!

Rip this guy apart!

It's payback time,
Rorschach.

Kill him!

Enough, Kovacs.

Down on the ground!

Got him pinned!
Call for backup.

This place is about to explode.

Get that motherfucker!

You're dead, Rorschach. Dead!

None of you understand.

I'm not locked up
in here with you.

You're locked up
in here with me.

Dan?

Uh, Dan?

Dan, are you down here?

Oh, my...

Wow.

Whoa!

Shit!

- Laurie? Laurie? Laurie!
- Dan!

- Laurie?
- Dan!

- Laurie!
- Dan!

Jesus!

Hold on.

Laurie,
are you okay?

I am so sorry.

I was looking for you,
and... and...

No, no. I was...
I was just in the...

Are you... are you okay?

I think I accidentally
hit a button in your...

I was... I was just tinkering
with Archie earlier,

- and I left him on...
- I'm sorry. Archie?

Yeah.
The Owl Ship.

It doesn't... it doesn't--
Are you hurt?

Really...

- Oh.
- I'm fine.

Sorry. Um...

I've-- Well...
I've been a little...

on edge lately.

I wasn't going to say it.

I mean, since you've been
letting me live here all week.

But, yeah,

you've been
jumping at shadows.

I guess I didn't want
to talk about it.

It's just...

After the Comedian died,

Jon, Adrian, and Rorschach
were attacked within days.

I'm starting to worry--

You're not taking Rorschach's
mask-killer nonsense seriously,

- are you?
- Well, um...

Oh, no.

Oh, Dan. I'm so sorry.

No, no. It's... it's fine.

Had some good times
in this suit, but...

those times went up in smoke
a long time ago.

You miss those times?

Nah.

Looking back, it was all just
embarrassing, really.

A school kid's fantasy.

Well, at least you were
living out your own fantasies.

I was living out my mother's.

Well, in a way, I mean,
my dreams were kind of forged

by the adventures
of the Minutemen.

I idolized Hollis,

which defied
my father's plans for me.

Ooh! Do tell.

Well... Dad was pushing me
to follow him into banking,

but I preferred
keeping scorecards

on crime fighters
over currency.

Still, he kept me focused,
and I made it into Harvard.

I was majoring in aeronautics
and zoology when he died.

And he left me
with a lot of money.

With no one around
to talk me out of it,

this happened.

You made your dreams real.

A dream made real

just becomes another
messy reality, doesn't it?

But, yeah,

when I was in the moment,
I made it my own.

I think we both
made it our own.

See that souvenir case?

I was keeping my own scorecard

separate from Hollis'
Nite Owl adventures.

I was writing
my own future history.

Well, I couldn't wait to ditch
all that stuff

from my adventuring days.

As you can probably tell,
my two boxes of belongings

that just arrived
from the Rockefeller eviction.

Honestly, I'm surprised
they bothered

to send me anything
after... our separation.

Do you miss Jon?

I keep thinking I should.

Even when I was with him,
he was never really there

unlike all
the government agents

keeping tabs on us.

On how I kept Jon happy.

But, hey, I could only dream
about what you've got here.

You're lucky to be on your own
with your privacy intact.

Yeah...

Lucky.

Just another
messy reality, huh?

Is there any other kind?

And these days it feels like

reality is crashing down
around us all.

Now you sound
like Rorschach again.

Dan, his mask-killer theory
doesn't hold up.

Jon left Earth
of his own free will.

Rorschach was caught red-handed
committing murder.

Where's the conspiracy?

It's not like Rorschach
to just shoot someone.

Too easy.

And those events
timed so closely

to the attack on Adrian

and the murder of the Comedian,
too coincidental.

Rorschach was on to it
from day one.

Look, I know that mask
has eaten his brains

over the years,

but we worked together.

Rorschach was always

a brilliant investigator
and tactician.

So, I can't help but wonder

if he found any evidence
that links all these events.

I just wish I could find out
what's in his head.

Okay, Walter.

Now, I guess you know
what this is?

I want you to look at it
and tell me what you see.

Will you look at it, Walter?

Will you do that for me?

What can you see?

A pretty bird.

That's great.

Let's try another, shall we?

What do you see?

- A pretty butterfly.
- Wonderful, Walter.

This is going so well
for our first session.

This really helps me to speak

to your psychological fitness
for your trial.

Let's keep going.

What do you see on this card?

And feel free to describe

all the images
that come to mind.

Oh, yes!

Hey! Get lost, you little shit!

He ain't paying
to see your ugly face.

Where are you going, whoreson?

Don't touch him!

Son of a bitch
probably got diseases.

That true, whoreson--

Get off!

Well, Walter?

What do you make of it?

You keep calling me Walter.

I don't like you.

Uh...
you don't like me?

Fat, wealthy.

Think you understand pain.

I'll tell you
about pain, Doctor.

I'll tell you about...

Rorschach.

Born by the mistake
of a whore,

ward of state by age ten.

After mother was murdered,
only one childhood regret.

Not being there
to spit on her remains.

Became manual worker
in garment industry,

received special order
for a dress

in new Doctor Manhattan
spin-off fabric.

Viscous fluids
between latex layers,

heat and pressure sensitive.

Customer, Kitty Genovese,
never collected order.

Didn't know why.

Black and white,
changing shape but not mixing.

No gray.

Very, very beautiful.

Next day, learned
Kitty Genovese was murdered.

Raped and killed
outside her own apartment.

Nearly 40 neighbors
heard screams.

Nobody did anything.
Nobody called cops.

Some of them even watched.

They watched!

That's when I knew
what people were

behind all the self-deception.

Ashamed for humanity,
I went home.

Took Kitty's unwanted dress

and made a face
I could bear to look at

in the mirror.

1975, worked kidnap case.

Blair Roache. Six years old.

Questioned informants.

One bled answers.

An address.

Disused dressmaker's
in Brooklyn.

I was just Kovacs, then.
Pretending to be Rorschach.

Naive. Soft.
Didn't understand.

Until I found her.

Nothing left but pieces.
Ashes in stove.

Blood on chopping block.
Bones for dogs.

She was consumed by evil.

Never had a chance.
Neither did Kovacs.

Finally understanding
man's true capacity for horror,

Kovacs closed his eyes.

It was Rorschach
who opened them again.

Put dogs down easy.
They didn't know better.

Gerald Grice did.

What-- No. Hey!

Put him down hard.

I told you I didn't
do nothing to that girl.

You have nothing on me.

Come on, man.
What are you doing?

What is this?

Don't bother
sawing through handcuffs.

- Never make it in time.
- Oh, my God. You're crazy!

What... what,
you're gonna burn me?

You can't do this.
Stop! No! Oh, God! No!

No! No!

Once a man
has seen,

he can never
turn his back on it,

never pretend
it doesn't exist,

no matter who orders him
to look away.

I do not do this thing
because it is permitted.

I do it because I have to.

I do it because I am compelled.

I... I see.

No. You don't.

But have patience, Doctor.

You will.

How does Adrian do it?

He's barely older than I am,
but he's in better shape now

than I ever was
in my Nite Owl days.

Back when he retired
from being Ozymandias,

he had me and Jon up to visit
his Grand Antarctic retreat.

Such a show-off.

You visited Karnak?
Did... did you see Bubastis?

Yeah. He sent me off

to go play with his
overgrown house cat.

Genetically modified lynx, actually.

Fascinating.

The only fascination there
was between Jon and Adrian.

They talked endlessly.

He uses
his Veidt Enterprises fortune

to advance science.

- Nauseating.
- And fund charities.

He makes it seem so easy.

He retired from one fantasy
and just... built another.

He was... just born
with the answer

that no money or power
or a family can give you.

Answer to what?

After taking off the mask,

who are you?

Well, here's to Adrian,
the man with the answers.

Ugh.

Hey, what...
what's in your pocket?

Oh, I, uh...
rescued these from the fire.

My spare Owl Goggles.
Where were they?

In, uh... Archie.

- Archie?
- Well, nice that you two
are so familiar

after teaming up
to destroy my secret lair.

Here. Try them on.
Experience my Owl Vision.

No matter how black it gets,

when you look through these,
everything is clear as day.

Why, Mr. Dreiberg...

You're ravishing.

Oh, they must be broken.
Let me look...

I can't get the-- No,
got it. Sorry.

I'm... so sorry. It's not you.

- It's just...
- Hey, relax. It's okay.

- No, you deserve better.
- Dan...

- I mean, I really want this.
- It doesn't matter.

I know how it is
when something's not right.

We'll just sleep now. Okay?

Just sleep.

Coming up
on the eleven o'clock news.

Russian forces
push further into Afghanistan.

And Pakistan calls on the US
to intervene,

but Russia claims to be
merely securing her borders.

We also have a special report
on noted author Max Shea,

who mysteriously vanished
two years ago.

Hear why investigators'
search for clues

has ended in failure.

Well, well, well.

Hey there, Rorschach.

It's been a long time.

Big Figure. Small world.

"Small world." I like that.

You know, after 20 years,

I guess you thought
you could forget about

what you did to me.

You and that fucking Owl guy.

Funny how these things

come back to haunt us
though, huh?

Speaking of, that guy
you burned is dying.

Maybe tomorrow,
maybe the next day.

But see, he had
lots of friends around here.

And when he dies,

this place blows
and then you die...

by inches.

Tall order.

Smart ass!

Gonna tear this guy
a new hole right now.

Hey, hey, hey. No hurry.

I've waited 20 years.

He'll get his soon enough.
And nobody's gonna care.

I hear even his shrink
resigned today.

You're alone in the valley
of the shadow, Rorschach,

where your past
has a long reach.

And the only thing
between you and it

is one... crummy... lock.

Think about it.

You okay?

Bad dreams.
Bad realities.

I hope it's not
what happened earlier.

It's the mask-killer thing.

Four of us taken down,

war looming on the horizon,

I'm... terrified
it's all connected

and the worst
is yet to come.

And I can't do anything
to stop it.

It all just
makes me feel so...

so... impotent.

So, I ran down here.

For all the good that did.

It's not like
taking the ship out

can set things straight.

Why not?

You're serious?

I used to be a masked
avenger too, remember.

I'm used to going out
at 3:00 in the morning

and doing something stupid.

Wait, I... I burned
your suit, remember?

Spare goggles,
spare suit.

- Dan?
- Mm-hm?

I'm ready.

Let's go.

Hope we don't get caught.

Whoa!

This is great.
Really great.

Dan, trouble on your right.

Hold on!

Building looks clear.

No, wait.

- There!
- Somebody, please!

Looks like four adults.
Can we pick them up?

Already on it!

Please stay calm.

We're here to rescue you.

Step back from the window.

Madre de Dios!

Mother of God is right.

Oh, I'm an entirely
different Spectre.

And certainly
nobody's mother.

Vamonos, por favor.

Let's go.

- Gracias.
- Thanks.

- Welcome aboard.
- Hey!

You're that... Owl guy.

Who?

Dark Owl!

Who wants to hear
some music?

Oh!

- Salud.
- Thanks.

Gracias.

What the hell just happened?

Did that just happen?

You do know
they might lock us up

with Rorschach for this.

Yeah.

And World War III
might start tomorrow.

Dan!

- Tonight was good.
- It was.

I'd hoped tonight might wake
something inside you.

Oh, it did.

Insatiable, huh?

So, what should we do next?

We... should spring Rorschach.

What?

In my ravings,

desperate for company,

I conversed
with my perished shipmates.

Their voices spoke
from beneath the raft.

The conversation
of the dead, dreary...

Oh, man.
Ten days to nuclear war, Derf.

- ...bitter.
- That's what they said on TV.

...endlessly sad.

Oh, Jesus, Derf,
just get me some Katies,

so I can get high, man.

Interminable
bad news from mouths

wherein the little fishes dart.

It's that Manhattan guy
who brought this down on us.

Oh! The new papers
just arrived.

There's a riot at the prison.

- Give me that!
- Whoa! Hey!

We got friends there.

"Vigilante sparks prison riot.
Five dead."

Rorschach again.

Making headlines

after some other heroes
made the news

for the tenement fire rescue.

Goddamn masks!

Come on.
Let's round up the guys.

There's gonna be hell
to pay for this.

If I didn't know any better,
I'd say it was all connected.

We talked together,

my rotted fellows and I

of life...

A news vendor
senses these things.

...and endings...

It all spells trouble.

...of the terrible sentence

upon us all.

We'll get murdered in the chaos
by cops or criminals.

- Either way--
- No, wait. Look.

We'd already planned
on distracting the guards.

The prison riot
does the job for us.

I can tune into
police radio chatter,

and we'll get
up-to-the-minute intel

on positions and strategies.

This is our ticket inside.

He is a homicidal maniac

you hope will validate
this long-shot theory of yours.

Is busting out Rorschach
really worth risking our butts?

Mm.

Your butt's in safe hands.

If not, I'll be kicking yours.

Hollis?

Oh, just thought I'd check in
after you missed

our beer session
the other night.

I'm sorry, Hollis.

I just got caught up
in a book. Dozed off.

Coffee?

Sure.

So... seen the news lately?

Can't miss the headlines

about this war
they say is coming.

There was a smaller story
yesterday

about a tenement fire,

and a highly unusual rescue.

Nope. Nope.

- Nope.
- Now, wait.

- Ah-ha.
- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.

You're saying Dr. Manhattan

leaving the planet
was orchestrated?

Timed between the attacks

on Blake, Adrian,
and Rorschach, yes.

It's too coincidental.

The cancer-scare media assault
on Jon had to be manufactured.

Laurie lived with him,

and she never
contracted cancer.

But I did some digging.

The cancer victims
mentioned in Nova Express

were all employed at some point
by the same company.

Again, too coincidental.

I think somebody used
these specific people

and the press
to prompt Jon's exile,

and I think it's part of a plan

to start World War III.

Whoa!
That's a long-shot theory.

Laurie said as much, too.

And this company,
connecting the cancer victims,

who are they?

And how do they connect

to Blake, Adrian,
and Rorschach?

The company's called
Dimensional Developments.

Beyond the name,
I've hit a wall

investigating their corporate structure.

What about Adrian?

He's connected
to the corporate world

and would certainly
be motivated to help.

Without stronger evidence,

sharing this conspiracy theory
with a man in his position

might put him
in a compromising situation.

I mean, he... he might
have to report us, but...

but I'm working another lead

that, uh, should break loose
very soon.

I'm sure
you'll crack the case, kid.

I believe in you.

And thanks
for sharing the details.

Mm.

It feels like
the old days again.

Hey, we Nite Owls
have to stick together.

Well, that's why
I paid a visit, Dan.

If I can figure out
who made the rescue

at the tenement fire,

so can the police.

Crap. We're out of time.

Well, no going back now.

If we don't crack this case,

there may be no going back
for any of us.

Go, go, go.
We got shots fired.

Officer down!
South-west corner!

Surrender,
or you will be fired on!

Aren't you glad
they keep you in solitary?

Now our reunion
won't be interrupted

by the mob out there.

Lawrence, hurry up
with the arc welder.

What's the matter, Rorschach?
Too warm in there?

Well, it's gonna get
plenty warmer.

Yeah. You notice how,
all of a sudden,

he ain't giving you no,
"tall order, small world" shit?

Maybe he figured out
once we cut through these bars,

we're gonna make him
a little shorter.

Fat chance.

Fat? You lousy bastard!

We got a jail full of guys
out here who hate your guts.

What have you got?

Your arms.

Hey! What the hell?

Lawrence, you stupid
son of a bitch!

Now we can't get to the lock.

Sorry, Figure.

Michael can still cut
through the bars.

That'll take too long.

This riot won't last,

and I don't want
to be interrupted.

- Sorry, Lawrence...
- No!

...but you're in the way
of my revenge.

- No, boss!
- Michael, cut through him.

- No, no, wait!
- Nothing personal, Larry.

Wait! Hey!

One-nothing.

Your move.

Come and get me.

That thing
ain't one of ours.

Open fire!

Land your aircraft
or we will use deadly force.

Police radio says this area
is controlled by prisoners.

Ear plugs in.
Hitting the screechers.

Ugh!

Shoot that thing down!

Hurry up with that lock.

I wanna smell
this son of a bitch cooking.

Then I'm gonna carve him up
like a Thanksgiving turkey.

We're in.

Look at him

climbing up onto his bed
like a scared kid.

We got you now,
you little bastard.

Never disposed of sewage
with toilet before.

Obvious, really.

Two-nothing.

Your move.

How will we find him
in all of this?

Assuming he's not dead.

He attracts this horror
and madness.

This is where he lives.

Help! Somebody
get this guy! Help!

Hey, Rorschach!

Hey!

Help!

Rorschach!

Hey, man.
We came to bust you out.

Excuse me.
I have to visit men's room.

Oh, for Christ's sake!

Well, when you gotta go,
you gotta go.

Look,
we got masks in here!

That's Nite Owl! Get 'em!

Hey! We are trying
to stop a war!

Um... guess I'm kind
of bitter about...

losing the house.

I better radio the ship.

Did what had to be done.

Can leave now.

- Are you sure?
- This way.

Did you wash your hands?

Archie's
covering our exit.

Did you flush?

Flushed twice.

A little clogged.

Don't let them escape!

Track them
with the lights!

Land your aircraft now!

I repeat!
Land your aircraft!

Everybody
will be looking for us up here.

I know a place to hide
and plan our next move.

Good seeing you
in uniform, Daniel.

Like old times.

Never liked your uniform,
Ms. Juspeczyk.

- Nothing personal.
- Ugh!

Can't believe we agree
on something.

Jesus.

- Hello.
- Jon.

They said you were on Mars.

I am on Mars.

We have a conversation
scheduled there.

You're going to try
to convince me

to save this world.

To-- I have to convince you?

Jon, we really need your help
here on Earth.

This is all
so deus ex machina.

The god out of the machine.
Yes, I suppose it is.

Nevertheless,

an hour into the future,
we are on Mars talking.

- Mars? We don't have time--
- Dan.

I think
I'd better go with him.

Maybe we'll find
a way out of this mess.

I'll be okay.

Laurie, wait.

Take care.

Pity they won't be
working with us.

Yeah. Yeah, it is.

Here we are.

What do you think?

Oh, of course. Forgive me.

Sometimes these things
slip my mind.

Are you okay?

Jesus! Jon,
you stupid son of a...

Holy shit.

This is where
we debate Earth's destiny.

Truly, life is hell...

And death's rough hand,
our only deliverance.

I would endure no more bubbling
dialogues from the dead.

No more ramblings
of damnation.

No more judgments
of our sins.

...vigilante
known as Nite Owl,

entered the riot
and freed suspected murderer,

Walter Kovacs,

also known as Rorschach.

Both escaped police capture
by aircraft.

Argh!

More details
are still coming in.

- Goddamn it!
- Derf! What the hell?

Hey, hey, hey.

We don't want no trouble
around here.

Shut up, old man.

These super bastards
get away with everything

while our guys
catch hell in that riot.

It ain't fair!

Though
dreading such a black,

breathless end, I leapt...

Hey, the news guy
mentioned Nite Owl.

...feet first into cold,

dank mortality.

Derf, he's the guy who wrote
that book about the masks.

My dad takes his car
to his repair shop.

- Do you know where that is?
- Yeah.

It's just down the street...

But the ocean's depths

refused to swallow me.

I lifted my uncomprehending
eyes to the heavens

and saw instead the earth.

This guy likes
to play in riots...

I had reached my destination.

...so let's give him a riot.

Yeah.
Yeah. Let's mess this guy up!

- Hell, yeah!
- Bah!

They'd left me for dead.

The fiends who'd doubtless
butchered my kin.

But now I was returned
upon my corpse boat,

a spectre of revenge,

riding the flow tide home.

Yeah! Yeah!

- This it?
- Yeah. Upstairs.

Okay, okay.
I hear you.

You can quit banging.

Just give me a second.

- Get him!
- Yeah!

Get that dog!

Worry about yourself, scumbag.

No.

- Derf!
- Oh, man.

Derf! That's enough!

He's a goner.
We gotta get out of here!

This is where
we hold our conversation.

It commences when you
surprise me with the news

that you and Dreiberg
are sleeping together.

You... know about me and Dan?

No. But in a few moments,
you're going to tell me.

Ugh! Jon, I can't take
your predestination crap

right now.

It makes no sense

that you can be surprised
by anything

when you can see time
in all directions.

Everything is preordained,
even my responses.

So the most powerful being
in the universe

is just... a puppet
following a script?

We are all puppets, Laurie.

I am just a puppet
who can see the strings.

There is no future.
There is no past.

Time is simultaneous.

Ugh! Jon, how can I debate
Earth's destiny

when you know the outcome?

Help me understand here.

What was your
earliest memory?

I don't know.

When my folks split,
I guess.

He couldn't understand

why I'd hold a grudge...

I remember them arguing,
but...

It's different for him.

And I just couldn't
sustain the anger anymore.

God! You need therapy.

No. It's gone.

No. It is not.

It is still here.

Let yourself see it.

Look, for starters,

he was there, okay?

And he was actually gentle.

I was five, I think.

Do you have any idea
what gentleness means

for a guy like that?

I snuck downstairs

to play with a snow globe.

It means
a broken marriage

and an uncertain future
for our child.

My child! That's what this
is all about, remember?

My dad was always

- yelling at me...
- Laurel Jane!

...because he knew
I wasn't his.

What are you doing down here?

Pretty sure my real dad
was Hooded Justice,

my mom's old boyfriend.

Anyway, I...

My dad
was a domineering bully

like most of the men
I've been...

But Dan's... not like that.

He's gentle.

Someone you can pour
your troubles out to.

A receptive lover.

You mean...
you're sleeping with Dreiberg?

But... you already know.

- You said--
- I said many times

that you were my only link,

my only concern
with the world.

What does it say
that when you left me,

I left Earth?

Now that you
have replaced me,

that link is shattered.

Don't you see the futility
of asking me to save a world

I no longer have
any stake in?

Jon, don't be ridiculous.

Earth's too important
to hinge on one relationship.

Not to me.

My red world here
means more to me

than your blue one.

I will show you.

Cowering down here
in sludge

doing nothing but conjuring
names on screens.

Computer unnecessary.

This face is all I need.

Give me smallest finger
on man's hand.

I'll produce information
about mask killer.

Hey, you needed
your spare costume,

I needed time for research.

And now we need to put
our heads together on this.

You said the Comedian
told Moloch about an island

and a plot against Jon,

and I think the plot

had to be the cancer-scare
media attack

that sent Jon off the planet.

Now, check this out.

I finally got a breakthrough

investigating
Dimensional Developments,

the company that employed
Jon's alleged cancer victims.

They also owned

the Institute
for Extraspatial Studies.

And look, Nova Express
is connected.

They published
the cancer list.

And all of these companies
appear to be funded

by Pyramid Deliveries.

Pyramid?

That means
something to you?

Moloch's illegal
cancer meds...

delivered by Pyramid.

God, Moloch was in deep.
And probably didn't know it.

If his place was bugged
by these companies...

They'd know about
Comedian's visit to Moloch.

And that Comedian discovered
the plot against Jon.

Know of my investigation,

know how to frame me.

- But what about Veidt?
- Hm.

The assassination attempt
on Adrian doesn't fit the--

Hold... hold on.

Location
is Mason's Auto repairs.

Hollis?

Additional units needed

to canvass the area
for Knot-Tops.

- Coroner en route.
- No.

Body ID-ed as...

- No.
- ...Hollis Mason.

Oh, God! Hollis?

Oh, Christ! No!

Sorry.

He was a good man.

I wasn't there.

I should have...
I should have been there.

It could be random killing.

Could be
another mask killer.

Squeeze underworld,
find answers. Take revenge.

No.
We don't have time.

We have to--

His own fault.

Was lazing too long.
Forgot how to do things.

Lazing? Lazing?

Who the hell
do you think you are?

You live off people
while insulting them.

And the only reason
nobody complains

is because they think
you're a goddamn lunatic!

Do you know how hard
it is being your friend?

Daniel, you are
a good friend.

I know that.

I'm sorry that
it is sometimes difficult.

No. I'm the one
who should be sorry.

Shouldn't have
said all that.

Let's forget it, huh?

We don't have time for this.

Agreed. The end is nigh.

And Adrian's assassin

is the next piece
of the puzzle.

Let's hope
the world's smartest man

can help us
put it all together

before it's too late.

Mr. President,

Russian tanks
are massing in East Germany

in response to alleged
"Western alarmism."

CIA thinks this is genuine.

Both our countries have been
on full alert this past week.

One spark
and it could all go up.

Our analysis of a first strike
against their nuclear silos

shows a good chance
of success.

Casualties on our side
could be 10-20 million.

Well, in the first wave, anyway.

Our tactical and strategic
forces worldwide

are standing by
on DEFCON 2.

What are your instructions,
Mr. President?

Hm.

We sit, and we wait.

Look, Jon. We don't have time
to go sightseeing on Mars,

and this debate
is going nowhere fast.

Can you please
just spare me the agony

and tell me
how this conversation ends?

It ends in tears.

I return to Earth
at some point in my future,

and I find streets
full of corpses.

But the details are vague.

What?

What do you mean "vague"?

There is some kind of static
obscuring the future,

preventing any clear
impression.

The electromagnetic pulse
of mass warhead detonations

could conceivably cause that.

Oh, my God.

Jon, we can't just
fly around Mars

if missiles are about
to launch back home.

Humanity might be on
the brink of extinction.

Doesn't that bother you?

No, Laurie.
That does not bother me.

Life is a highly overrated
phenomenon.

Mars gets along perfectly
without a single microorganism.

Its surface is a constantly
changing topographical map,

flowing and shifting in ripples
10,000 years wide.

It is called chaotic terrain.

Yeah, well, our lives
have chaotic terrain, too.

I mean, think about
when we first met

at that Crimebusters thing
in the '60s.

...banding together
as the Crimebusters.

It doesn't mean
squat!

Remember
how that all fell to pieces?

It was even more chaotic
after you left.

Laurel Jane, right?
Sally's kid?

Uh... yeah.

I caught your act in there.
You were pretty cool.

Hm. You didn't grow up
too bad yourself.

Thanks.

Your, uh, mom
ever talk about me much?

Mm, not really.

Figures.

You got her eyes,

even that little mole.

Ain't got her hair,
but otherwise you're like her.

You're a looker.

Take your hands off her!

Hey, Sal.
Long time no see.

Not long enough
in my book.

Are there any depths
you won't sink to?

We were just talking.
Can't a man talk to his...

his old friend's daughter?

What do you think I am?

I know what you are,
Edward Blake!

I've known for 25 years.

And don't you
ever forget that.

I thought we'd settled
all that a long time ago.

Things like that
don't get settled,

and they're not gonna happen
to my daughter.

Come on.
We're leaving right now.

Of course,
in the moment,

I didn't know
what that bastard had done.

Mom drove us three blocks...

...stopped the car,

and then it all came
pouring out.

Her pain, her fears,

and what Blake did to her.

I carried that with me
for years.

At some point,
I crossed paths with Blake

and a few too many drinks.

And I was a mean drunk.

Juspeczyk, huh?

Took your grandmother's
name over Jupiter?

I see you didn't take
your father's last name either.

- What's that to you?
- Nothing.

Still see your mom in you.

She was a peach.

Is that what you told her
before you beat her,

before you tried to rape her?

What kind of a man
forces a woman into having sex

against her will?

Only... once.

With seven scotches in me,

and one in my hand,

I let him have it.

And then,
you got angry,

and teleported us out of there.

At least then
you seemed to understand

the chaotic terrain
of our lives.

Why does it matter less now?

I read atoms, Laurie.

I see the ancient spectacle

that birthed the world
beneath us.

Beside this, human life
is brief and mundane.

I'm done.

Land this thing.

Take me home.

As you wish.

You said this would end
in tears.

You were wrong.

Maybe you're wrong about
streets full of corpses, too.

Laurie, you complained
that I refused

to see existence
in human terms.

But you are refusing to see
through my viewpoint.

If you would
just allow yourself

to see the whole continuum,

the patterns of life,
then you would understand.

Instead, you deliberately
shut out understanding

as if you are afraid.

Her pain...

I'm not afraid.

And what Blake did to her.

I'm just through
with looking back

on my stupid memories.

I carried that
with me for years.

I'm know what you are,
Edward Blake.

I've known for 25 years.

What kind of a man
forces a woman into having sex

against her will?

What happened
was 40 years ago.

- It's history.
- Only... once.

I'm not afraid.

Even the grimy
parts of it...

I'm not...

...keep getting
brighter all the time.

God! You need therapy.

My child!

My dad was always

yelling at me...

Laurel Jane!

...because he knew
it wasn't his.

Laurel Jane, right?
Sally's kid?

Can't a man talk to his...
his old friend's daughter?

He's...

You didn't grow up
too bad yourself.

He's not my...

Still see your mom in you.

You got her eyes.

Your, uh, mom ever
talk about me much?

No.

And I just couldn't sustain

the anger anymore.

And he was actually gentle.

I thought we'd settled
all that a long time ago.

Getting old,

you get
a different perspective.

Can't a man
talk to his...

...his old friend's daughter?

No.

No!

No, no, no.

Blake, you bastard!

I will never, ever
call you my father!

You're right.

My life's a joke.

My life... all life...

meaningless.

I disagree.

What?

I do not think
your life is meaningless.

But... why?

You... changed my mind.

For my entire existence,

I have longed to see
a thermodynamic miracle,

an event with odds

so great against it
ever happening,

that it is effectively
impossible

like oxygen spontaneously
turning into gold.

In every human coupling,

a thousand-million sperms
vie for a single egg.

Multiply those odds
by countless generations,

against the odds
of your ancestors being alive,

meeting,

siring this precise son,

that exact daughter,

until one day,
your mother loves a man

she has every reason to hate.

And out of that union,

of the
thousand-million children

competing for fertilization,

it was you,

only you that emerged.

To distill so specific a form

from that chaos
of improbability,

is like turning air
into gold.

That is
the crowning unlikelihood,

the thermodynamic miracle.

But, if I'm...

if my birth
is a thermodynamic miracle,

you could say that about
anyone else in the world.

Yes. The world
is so full of people,

so crowded
with these miracles,

that they become commonplace.

And we forget...

I forget what they truly are.

Now, from your vantage point,

I see the Earth.

Dry your eyes, Laurie,

for you are life,
rarer than a quark

and unpredictable beyond
the dreams of Heisenberg,

the clay in which the forces
that shape all things

leave their fingerprints
most clearly.

Dry your eyes,
and let's go home.

Not like him.
Building deserted.

- Works here late every night.
- Found his daily planner.

Yesterday's entry...
"Leave for Karnak."

That's his private base
in the Antarctic.

So much
for asking him for help.

This chart,
analysis of global crises.

War, famine,
environmental decline.

Crisis lines converge
mid '90s.

Optimistic.

Crisis arrives decade early,

unless we get lead
on Pyramid Deliveries.

Oh, shit.

Veidt Enterprises holdings
includes Pyramid Deliveries,

Dimensional Developments,

Nova Express,

the Institute
for Extraspatial Studies.

Adrian owns them, Rorschach.

He owns and controls
all of them.

But Veidt was target
of assassin.

Maybe, maybe not.

We need to find Adrian fast.

Rorschach's journal,

November 1st, 1985.

Final entry.

Dreiberg convinced Veidt
is behind everything.

Cannot imagine
more dangerous opponent.

Faster than either of us.

Could kill us both there
in Antarctic snow.

Nobody would ever know.

Return from mission
seems unlikely.

Hope the world
survives long enough

for anyone to read this,

so people will know the truth
of this conspiracy

that Adrian Veidt
is responsible.

For my own part,
I regret nothing.

I've lived life
free from compromise.

I step into the shadow now,
without complaint.

Not the sort of snow
you're used to in California,

Mr. Roth.

I am as pleasantly
surprised by a coke-joke

from the world-famous
Adrian Veidt,

as I am your gracious
invitation to Karnak here.

Your Antarctic retreat
is breathtaking,

to say the least.

And the name, Karnak.

Egyptian in origin, correct?

Yes. You've done
your homework.

Not enough
to keep up with you, I'm sure.

Hello, Mr. Veidt.

You'll be happy to know
the delivery arrived

in perfect condition.

Excellent news, my friends.

I've brought you
an excellent wine to celebrate.

Ah. Ramses II,
also known as Ozymandias,

your namesake as a superhero.

Tell us more about your path
to becoming Ozymandias.

Oh, certainly.

I'd say my journey began
after my parents died.

They left me
with a lot of money,

but I gave it all to charity
when I was 17.

I wanted to prove that I could
accomplish anything I wanted...

- Shall we prepare your dinner?
- No.

Work comes first.

...only guidance
was inspiration

from the one human
with whom I felt any kinship,

Alexander of Macedonia.

As a brilliant,
young army commander,

Alexander swept through
many countries,

ruled without barbarism,

and instituted the world's
greatest center of learning

in Egypt.

Determined to measure
my success against his,

I retraced my hero's steps...

Nova Express interview

is ready for your review
before broadcast.

The planet is currently
swarming in events,

and I need
to review them all.

I need information
in its most concentrated form.

...where some say
you've even learned

how to catch a bullet
in your bare hands!

We shall retire
to enjoy your generous gift.

We know that you prefer
to be alone down here.

Yes.

Alexander united
the civilized world...

All alone.

But only while he lived.

Just me and the world.

The wisdom
of the pharaohs

inspired the world

for generations
beyond their passing.

Adopting Ramses II's
Greek name,

and Alexander's
free-booting style,

I began my path...
to conquest.

Conquest not of men,

but the evils
that beset them.

The channels change
every 100 seconds

creating random images,

allowing subliminal hints
of the future

to come through.

A jigsaw puzzle model
of tomorrow.

I see a juxtaposition

of wish-fulfillment violence
and infantile imagery,

evocative of desire to regress,
be free of responsibility.

I see increased sexual imagery,
implying an erotic undercurrent

not uncommon
in times of conflict.

This all says war.

I will invest accordingly.

Everybody's scared.
You can feel it.

I estimated

I was not far
from Davidstown...

Just waiting for the nukes
to start dropping.

I was sure that by now

the place had been overrun

by the Freighter's brigands.

At the end of my journey,

all that remained to me now
was revenge

against those who had killed
my family, my crew,

and left me for dead.

Davidstown
slept,

deserted save for silence.

Hard to believe
we're finally going home.

I'll drink to that.

I arrived
at my former residence,

careful not to rouse the
butchers occupying it.

Unaware that
death was among them...

They'd know its dark embrace
without ever understanding why.

One, however, was awake.

Frantic, lest he should
raise alarms,

I set upon him.

In cataract darkness,

I bludgeoned him.

His screams
unnervingly shrill.

No pirates came,
but something worse.

I looked up
into faces familiar,

save for their terror.

The children wailed.

I looked
down at the figure beneath me.

Through puffed and bloodied
lips she mouthed my name.

There came an understanding
so large,

it left no room for sanity.

I ran, but the knowledge
of my damnation paced me,

gloating, celebrating
its awful victory.

Behind me,
a Lynch mob howled.

Eventually, I came
to an ash-colored shore,

a dismal black ocean
stretching before me.

How had I reached this
appalling position,

with love, only love, as my
guide?

How had my noble intentions,

led me to atrocity?

Pausing,
I stood, panting, sobbing,

...listening to
the windborne sound

of my pursuers draw closer.

Planning to resume my flight,
I raised my head and saw her.

The black freighter and its
accursed inhabitants

seemed to be waiting,
waiting for me.

They'd come to Davidstown

to collect the only prize
they'd ever valued.

Claim the only soul
they'd ever truly wanted.

I was a horror,

amongst horrors I must dwell.

I swam towards the
anchored freighter.

A rope snaked down.

Spluttering, I grabbed it.

And from the decks above,
a cheer went up,

both gross and black.

It's stench
affronting heaven.

Manners.

Now.

What can I do for you?

We know
you're behind everything.

The Comedian's murder,
Jon's exile.

Christ! Adrian,

we're on the brink
of World War III

because of you.

Well, Nixon
and his attack dog, Blake,

most certainly did more
in that regard.

Have you ever read
the last speech

Kennedy was supposed
to deliver?

"We in this country,
in this generation,

are by destiny,
rather than by choice,

the watchmen
on the walls of freedom."

But in a world of tyranny,
crosshairs watched him.

Blake's, most probably.

What the hell

are you getting at, Adrian?

It was then
that I began to realize

my adventuring
was a...

hollow crusade
against such forces,

a dark comedy clarified
by the Comedian himself

in '66.

I'm sure you remember
the Crimebusters fiasco,

where he discussed
nuclear war's inevitability.

He opened my eyes
to the truth.

Only the best comedians
accomplish that.

That's when I understood
what I must do.

Alexander's methods,
unification by conquest

would not halt the race

toward mutually-assured
destruction

between East and West.

But Alexander was also known

for untying the unsolvable
Gordian knot...

by severing it with a sword.

The same
unconventional solution

would be required

to untangle
our global problems.

And my sword

would be history's
greatest practical joke.

A joke discovered
by Comedian.

Blake was returning
from Nicaragua by airship

when he spotted
my private island.

He investigated and discovered
my artists and scientists

creating a genetically-altered,
monstrous new life-form

and our research
in teleportation.

Teleportation?

But only Jon can teleport.

Jon proved it possible,
and certainly more desirable

than the electric vehicles
he developed.

So, I capitalized
on his endeavors

by developing the basic patent
for the public spark-hydrants

that power his vehicles.

I financed
Dimensional Developments,

and the Institute
for Extraspatial Studies

with the proceeds.

Both developed new technologies

spun-off from Jon's
government research.

But without his guiding mind,

teleportation proved...
limited.

Anything living
died explosively on arrival.

Talking in circles.

You murdered Comedian
to keep him quiet.

Unfortunately for Blake,

I was monitoring
Moloch's residence

when his practiced
cynicism cracked,

and he began to spill fragments
of my plan.

I regret
his accidental involvement.

With the fate of the world,
and all humanity at stake,

I couldn't risk the possibility
of Blake revealing my plan

in its entirety to anyone...

...especially to Jon.

Being too powerful

and unpredictable
to fit my plans,

I plotted his removal
for years.

Thus his past associates

were exposed to radiation
and cultivated as weapons

against Jon's increasingly
fragile attachment to mankind.

With Jon and Blake
neutralized,

your mask-killer investigation
then needed stopping.

I staged
my own assassination attempt

to place me beyond suspicion
and cast doubt on the theory.

The unwitting assassin I hired
was fed a cyanide capsule.

And Rorschach was framed
for Moloch's murder

to close the loose ends.

Adrian, you're talking about
faulty teleportation

and genetic monsters
and ending war.

How does any of this
mad science make sense?

My plan is quite simple.

Teleport my creature
to New York.

The ensuing explosion
will wipe out half the city.

The aftermath will convince
the governments of Earth

that we are under attack
by beings from another world.

Instead of fighting
each other,

for the first time
the human race will unite

against a common foe

and usher in a new age
of global peace.

Adrian, listen to me.

You're not well.

You need help.

I'm just glad we got here

before you had a chance
to try and do it.

Do it?

Dan, I'm not
some comic book villain.

Do you seriously think
I'd explain my masterstroke

if there was even
the slightest chance of you

affecting its outcome?

I did it 35 minutes ago.

Oh, man.

Hm.

Well, it's 11:25.
About time to close up, kid.

Hey, how many times
you gonna read that junk?

This story
don't make sense, man.

That's why I got
to read it over.

And my name's Bernie,
not "kid."

Bernie?
Short for Bernard?

No kidding.

That's my name... too.

Whoa...

What the...

Ah, Jesus, Derf...

Holy...

Oh, my God!

Oh, my God!

What... what the hell is that?

I had expected us to return
to Earth much earlier.

The interference I had noticed,

it was not a warhead detonation
after all.

So what...

Tachyons.

A squall of tachyons.

But where can they be
coming from?

I had almost forgotten
the delights of uncertainty.

Jon...

I am picking up a strong pulse
from the south-polar region.

Jon, get me out of here, please.

Of course.

No one will doubt

the Earth has met a force
so dreadful

that it must be repelled,

all former enmities aside.

No one must ever
know the truth.

Those who were involved
are dead.

Killers killed by killers
who killed each other.

A lethal pyramid.

And what about us?

Veidt, of course.

Who else has the intelligence
for tachyon interference?

He must have anticipated

my possible discovery
of his plot for some time.

All that stuff in New York,
Adrian planned it?

Yes. He killed Blake
and half of New York.

Excuse me, Rorschach.

I am informing Laurie
ten seconds ago.

These tachyons are muddling
things up.

Jon, wait!

- Jon!
- No!

Have to stop him.

Killed Blake
and half of New York.

Yes. He killed Blake
and half of New York.

Excuse me, Rorschach.

I am informing Laurie
ten seconds ago.

These tachyons
are muddling things up.

The static is stronger here.

Hiding behind these tachyons
was clever, Veidt.

But this game is stupid.

Very well.

If I must follow this through
to the bitter end...

Dan.

Bubastis, forgive me.

Veidt, don't!

Huh. I wasn't actually sure
that would work.

Veidt...

you're an asshole.

Oh, shit.

Laurie!

Something else I wasn't sure
I would--

I am disappointed, Veidt.

Very disappointed.

Restructuring myself
was the first trick I learned.

Did you really think
it would kill me?

I have walked across the sun.

I have seen events
so tiny and so fast

that they can hardly be said
to have occurred at all.

But you?

You are just a man.

And this world's smartest man

means nothing more to me
than its smartest termite.

What is that, Veidt?

Another ultimate weapon?

You could say that.

This just in...

We have terrifying images...

Oh, Christ...

What you are about to see
may shock you.

...it's an utterly
horrible scene here.

...an institute
researching other dimensions.

...millions have
died here this evening.

No! No!

Could it be alien contact?

Has the Earth been invaded?

Global concern is growing...

...and world leaders
are issuing

statements of support
across the globe.

We're hearing now
that Russian leader

Gorbachev said,

they're evaluating the new
threat in New York...

...increasing calls
for an immediate peace summit

in Geneva from world leaders...

in a global
concerted effort...

Even Russia
is suspending military action.

Ladies and gentlemen,
this is good news.

The war is over.

War is over.

The war is over.

I did it. I did it!

I saved Earth from hell!

And next I will lift her up
toward utopia.

Wait. Next?

You really think
you can get away with this?

If you expose me,

you will undo the peace
that millions died to achieve.

If you kill me,

you risk investigations
that will reveal what happened.

He is correct.

Exposing this plot

results in greater destruction
on Earth.

On Mars,
you demonstrated life's value.

If we would preserve life here,
we must remain silent.

You're right. Jesus.

Rorschach...

we... we...

We have to compromise on this.

No.

Not even
in the face of Armageddon.

Never compromise.

Well, in all likelihood,
he is of no consequence.

Rorschach is hardly
a reliable witness.

Still...

I think I shall meditate
in my orrery now.

Jon?

Where are you going?

Back to America.

People must be told.
Evil must be punished.

You know,
I cannot let you do that.

Of course.
To protect Veidt's new utopia.

One more body
amongst foundations

makes little difference.

Well...

what are you waiting for?

Do it.

Rorschach...

Do it.

Do it!

No!

- No, no.
- Dan.

God.

I'm here, Dan.

No.

I'm so sorry.

Hello, Jon.

I was hoping
we'd have a chance to talk.

I know I've journeyed
across the backs

of murdered innocents
to save humanity.

But someone
had to take the weight

of that awful necessary crime.

Unlike Rorschach,
I understand,

without condoning
or condemning.

Human affairs cannot
be my concern any longer.

I am leaving this galaxy
for one... less complicated.

But you'd regained interest
in human life.

Yes, I have.

I think I would like
to create some.

Goodbye, Adrian.

Before you leave,

I did the right thing,
didn't I?

It all worked out in the end.

In the end?

Nothing ends, Adrian.

Nothing ever ends.

Well, despite
nearly killing me

with a heart attack,

this is quite a Christmas gift.

I'm just so happy
to have my little Laurel back.

- Hair color, aside.
- Mother, remember?

It's Sandra
and Sam Hollis, now.

Aw!

And Hollis would be so proud
that you took his name.

It was the least I could do
to honor him.

He was like
a second father to me.

And that's why
I wanted to visit.

Mom, I found out
who my real dad was.

Oh, Jesus.

Oh, Laurel.
I'm so sorry.

Mom...

- What you must think...
- Mom, it doesn't matter.

People's lives
take them strange places.

They do strange things,

and sometimes
they can't talk about them.

I know how that is.

I love you, Mom.

You never did anything
wrong by me.

Bye, Sam. Bye, Sandra.

And don't wait too long
to have children.

I'm an old woman.

- Goodbye, Mom.
- Bye, Ms. Jupiter.

You know, maybe that wasn't

such a bad idea
of your mother's-

Forget it.

Not yet.

You've been talking about
adventuring again,

and I'm not staying home
changing diapers.

Nite Owl and Silk Spectre
sounds pretty awesome.

- I think I want a new name.
- Mm?

And a better costume
for protection.

- Mm-hm.
- Something leather.

Sure.

And a mask.

Uh...

- Maybe a gun.
- Mm...

Seymour,
where have you been?

Dimension X?

I just got lunch
from Burgers 'n' Borscht.

Don't say it!

I won't have Russian
spoken in this office,

ass-kissing peace accord
or not.

What are you doing?

Well, I was gonna
eat my lunch.

Three million New Yorkers died,

and you weren't one of them.

Seymour, damn it!

You've got two more pages
to fill before you eat.

I thought
your column--

Well, you thought wrong.

Nobody's allowed
to say bad things

about our "good old buddies,"
the Russians anymore.

So bang goes
a two-page column.

Get some filler somewhere.

Robert Redford says

he'll be running for president
in '88.

Seymour,
do not dignify absurdities

with coverage.

Nobody wants a cowboy actor
in the White House.

Then I guess
it's something

from the crank file?

Yes, yes.

Whatever's within
your limited abilities.

Just take responsibility
for once in your life.

Run whatever you want.

I leave it entirely
in your hands.

♪ Can you contain
The Mmeltdowns? ♪

The atomic age
bite-sized snack

that'll make you glow
from head to toe.

♪ Can you contain
The Mmeltdowns? ♪

A chain reaction
of flavor satisfaction

that'll make
your taste buds explode.

♪ Can you contain
The Mmeltdowns? ♪

Fruity fallout
and a delicious molten center

that'll blow you
all the way to China.

♪ Can you contain
The Mmeltdowns? ♪

Mm, Mmetldowns!