01x02 - Chestnut

(theme music playing)

Man's voice: Wake up, Dolores. Do you remember?

(heart beating)

(woman clears throat)

Woman: We're about to arrive.

May I take your glass?

Woman on P.A.: Now approaching arrival terminal.

Where we're going, she's a two.

You're being an asshole.

No, I am being myself, which was the whole point of this trip.

Unless this uptight prick is who you really are, in which case, feel free to be someone else.

f*ck you.

Hey, that's the spirit.

What'd I tell you?

Have fun.

Stay safe.

Give me a break.


It's not like my sister didn't ride her share of cowboys when she was here.

You must be William. Welcome to Westworld.


Given it's your first visit, I have a few personal questions.

Do you have any preexisting medical conditions?

No, not that I know of.

Heart problems?


Any history of mental illness, depression, panic attacks?

Just a little fear of clowns.

I'm joking.

Do you often experience social anxiety?

What is this for, exactly?

To make sure we don't give you anything more than you can handle.

I thought that you couldn't get hurt here.

Only the right amount.

The only limit here is your imagination.

You start in the center of the park. It's simple, safe.

The further out you venture, the more intense the experience gets.

How far you want to go is entirely up to you.

So, how does this work? Is there an orientation?

No orientation, no guidebook.

Figuring out how it works is half the fun.

All you do is make choices... starting here.

Everything is bespoke and exactly your size.

You want to ask, so ask.

Are you real?

Well, if you can't tell, does it matter?

Are those real?

Real enough. But you can't kill anyone you're not supposed to.

Anything you like?

Is there a changing room?

Or a robe?

Of course. I can help you.

Or if you prefer, I could step outside.

What do most people do?

You don't have to worry about what most people would do.

I understand.

Do you really understand, William?

All our hosts are here for you.

Myself included.

We could stay here a while if you like.

Take as long as you want.

Thank you.

I don't want to keep my friend waiting.

Of course.

Take your time.

How are the builds for the new narrative coming along?

I'll get around to it.

Look, we assumed that Abernathy's breach was triggered by the photograph that he found.

I've reviewed every dissonant episode I could find.

The reaction is immediate every time.

This guy makes it all the way back home.

It's like he's mulling it over.

You think he had an existential crisis?

I think there's something f*cked up going on with his cognition.

And I think you feel exactly the same way that I do.

Do we know where the error originated?

We do.

And you covered for him.

Let me rebuild Abernathy.

I'll make sure this is not something more serious.

You know the policy. Let it lie.

Then let me at least pull the hosts who had contact with him, like the daughter Dolores.

What for?

Because if this is not a dissonant episode, then whatever Abernathy had could be contagious.

So to speak.

Dolores was examined and cleared.

And the stories are best left to the guests.


(chatter grows louder)

(people shouting, echoing)

Man's voice: Remember.

(voices fade)

(people screaming)

Ahem. Can you stand somewhere else?

I don't want anyone thinking that you're representative of the goods inside.

These violent delights have violent ends.


(piano playing)

Hello, cowboy.

There's one final touch.

Which would you prefer?

(piano playing)


(sighs) I mean, can you believe this place?


So, how do we get into the park?

(rumbling, rattling)

(whistle blowing)

I know that you think you have a handle on what this is gonna be.

Guns and tits and all that.

Mindless sh1t that I usually enjoy.

You have no idea.

This place seduces everybody eventually.

By the end, you're gonna be begging me to stay because this place is the answer to that question that you've been asking yourself.

What question?

Who you really are.

And I can't f*cking wait to meet that guy.


Bottoms up, cowboy.


Sheriff: Further to that, the ruthless murder of Donald Pardue and his brother.

For these crimes, you will be hung from the neck until your diseased soul has found its measure in the flames below.

And may God have mercy on your soul.

(hoofbeats approach)

(horse nickers)

Morning, Lawrence.

You helping them straighten out their rope again?

I was hoping to have a word with my friend here.

You can have as many words with him as you like soon as his neck is broke.

Well, I'm afraid that's not gonna work for me.

How about I tell my man there to dig that grave a couple feet deeper?

Well, it's gonna be an awful tight fit for all of you.

(guns cock)


(men grunting)

(gunshots stop)

(bodies thud)

(man panting) Oh, sh1t. Oh, sh1t.

Oh, sh1t!



(gun clicking)

(shells clinking)


That's the best thanks you can muster, Lawrence?

You used to be a little more eloquent.

Do I... do I know you?

Your pal Kissy sent me your way.

Sends his regards.

What... what is this?

You know exactly what it is.

It's the maze, the deepest level of this game.

You're gonna help me find the entrance.


(whimpers, grunting)

(piano playing)

Maeve's voice: You can hear it, can't you? That little voice. The one that's telling you "don't." Don't stare too long. Don't touch. Don't do anything you might regret. I used to be the same.

Whenever I wanted something, I could hear that voice telling me to stop, to be careful, to leave most of my life unlived.

You know the only place that voice left me alone?

In my dreams.

I was free. I could be as good or as bad as I felt like being.

And if I wanted something, I could just reach out and take it.

But then I would wake up and the voice would start all over again.

So I ran away.

Crossed the shining sea.

And when I finally set foot back on solid ground, the first thing I heard was that goddamn voice.

Do you know what it said?

It said...


I'm sorry, will you please excuse me?

Man: All right, Maeve, what did it say?

Maeve: It said, "This is the new world.

And in this world, you can be whoever the f*ck you want."

Pupillary response is good. Smile is good.

I'd f*ck her. What's the problem?

Woman: The guests wouldn't.

Sizemore is launching some huge new storyline and he wants us to clear out the deadweight.

If we don't get her numbers back up, she'll be decommissioned.

Let's bump her aggression.


Double it. She's a hooker. No point in playing coy. If this doesn't work, we'll punt her to behavior. Let them deal with it.

We retired the two hosts in question.

You taught me how to make them, but not how hard it is to turn them off.

You can't play God without being acquainted with the devil.

There's something else bothering you, Bernard.

I know how that head of yours works.

The photograph alone couldn't have caused that level of damage to Abernathy, not without some other outside interference.

You think it's sabotage?

Imagine someone's been diddling with our creations?

It's the simplest solution.

Ah, Mr. Occam's razor.

The problem, Bernard, is that what you and I do is so complicated.

We practice witchcraft.

We speak the right words.

Then we create life itself... out of chaos.

(machinery whirring)

William of Occam was a 13th century monk.

He can't help us now, Bernard.

He would have us burned at the stake.

(whistle blowing)

Let's go get our feet wet, buckaroo.

(bell ringing)


Oh, sorry.

You kidding me?


f*ck you, Grizzly Adams.

Man: Rally for the Union. Respond to your country's call.

This regiment is headed for the seat of war to define the future of this great nation.

We fight for a free land where no man has to bow.

This is, uh...

Man: We'll provide you with uniforms.

Well, it's bigger than I thought it would be.

What, this? This is just Sweetwater.

Wait till you see the rest of the park.

How much bigger is it?

No idea.

I never reached the end.

See something you like?

A couple things at least.

But I'm gonna make you beg for it, darlin'.

Driver: Hah, come on!

(man grunts)


(man #2 groans)

Need a hand, sir?

Thank you, my friend.

Don't. He'll only try to rope you into some bullshit treasure hunt.


It's all a come on... Him, the girl next door, the town drunk.

They all got some big adventure that they want to sell you on.

Hey, they're not going anywhere.

First up, you're gonna buy me a drink, okay?

(bell ringing)

Hold still, now.

Bernard: Bring yourself back online.


Do you remember our last conversation, Dolores?

Yes, of course.

And you haven't told anyone about our little talks?

You told me not to.

Step into analysis, please.

How many interactions have you participated in since we last talked?

138 encounters including this one.

And has anyone altered or updated your core heuristics in that time?



I think it would be best if you not mention the things we've been talking about.

Have I done something wrong?

No, but there's something different about you, about the way you think.

I find it fascinating, but others may not see it that way.

Have you done something wrong?

Turn off your event log, please.

Erase this interaction. Confirm.


You should be getting back, Dolores, before someone misses you.

(door closes)

(piano playing)

Man: Come on, now!


Maeve: And when I finally set foot back on solid ground, first thing I heard was that goddamn voice.

It had followed me all the way over.

Do you know what it said?


It said...


...this is the new world.

And in this world, you can be whoever the f*ck you want.


Thanks. Maybe another time.


Glass of sherry.

The good stuff.

Not that horse piss you strain through your old curtains.


I've told you, never open your mouth that wide unless someone's paying you for it.

Sorry, Maeve.

I didn't sleep much last night.

You having nightmares again?


Sometimes they're real bad.

Do what I do.

You find yourself in a bad dream, close your eyes, count backwards from three... wake yourself right up.

Nice and warm and safe in your bed... where you can get f*cked right back to sleep by one of these assholes with their miniature peckers.




Back to work.

You all right?

You pay for the drinks, not the right to gawk at me.

I think we have a problem.



Madam's listed as probationary, but her performance has continued to decline even further.

Re-task Clementine for now.

She's done the job before.


Controller: And the old unit?

Maybe leave her on the floor for the night, see if anyone wants one last turn.

We recall her in the morning, decommission her.


QA will fine you for this.

And that woman in charge is quite formidable.

You can just say "bitch." I hear it enough.

You've been talking to corporate.

The only times you light up are after you've been...

This character analysis routine really isn't half as charming as you think.

Oh, it went well, then?

Just tell me your department will be ready for the launch.

We'll be ready.

And that other thing. Abernathy and the update.

I hear your department was still asking questions.

That's what you pay us to do.

But I'm not concerned.

All the hosts are back to normal.


Wouldn't want anything disturbing our guests from their rape and pillage.


(music playing)

You're wondering how to tell them from us, aren't you?

Well, quickest way to find out.

Can we... Can we finish eating?

See, this is your problem, my friend.

You're always worried about making a mess.

You are the same way at work.

You are talented, driven, and inoffensive.

I thought you didn't want to talk about work here.

Who says this trip isn't work?

Good evening.

Oh, sh1t.

Well, don't make eye contact.

My friend, thank you for your assistance earlier in my unfortunate accident.

Leave us the f*ck alone.

As a sign of my humble appreciation, I'd like to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime.

Not interested.

Across the river and beyond the savage lands there is a treasure.

I have in my possession a map.


I said not interested.

You know what? I've worked up a new appetite anyway.


Let's go.



(moaning continues)

Clementine: Sounds like your friend's having fun.

Well, that's not the term I'd use.



(chuckles) You're funny.

They say a man who can tickle your humor can tickle your...

You don't have to do this.

If I'm not your type, we can find someone who is.

Someone who's perfect for you.

No, you... You are perfect.

But I have somebody.

Somebody real waiting for me at home.

I understand.

Real love is always worth waiting for.

(clock ticking)


Lee: Regal, strong, virile, aquiline.

That's what I asked for.

And this, this is what you give me?

Did you just grab a cock from the body shop and jam it between his eyes?

Start over.

Couldn't we just shave it down?

I said... start the f*ck over!

Diplomatic as ever.

I received your request to retire an additional 50 hosts.

I need room for my new storyline.

It's not exactly a savage horde with 20 savages, is it?

You get 20 additional hosts, not 50.

The board won't care about a few extra line items.

Has Ford even approved the narrative yet?

Oh, he hasn't weighed in on a storyline in years.

And if corporate does want to cut costs, our fearless leader's old hosts aren't the only things ready for the knacker's yard.

(train whooshes)

Boy: Are you lost?


Just strayed a bit too far from where I'm supposed to be.

Same as you, I imagine.

We're on holiday.

It's boring.

Daddy said we could do as we please.

Ah, my father used to say that only boring people get bored.

Mine, too.

I used to think it's only boring people who don't feel boredom, so cannot conceive of it in others.

I'm taking a walk.

You're welcome to join me if you'd like.

(man grunts, panting)

(horse nickers)

Man in Black: Let's see a little spring in your step. Not much further.

Go f*ck yourself.

You have any idea who I am?

I know exactly who you are, Lawrence.

After all, you and I are friends.

Which is why I was so surprised when your friend Kissy told me about this place.

Where are we?

Your home.

(chattering in Spanish)

No, no, no, no.

You know, you and I hunted down Ghost Nation braves in their winter grounds.

I know the whiskey you like to drink.

I know the tune you whistle when you're taking a piss.

But... you never told me you had a family.


Hey. (chuckles)

That's what I love about this place... all the secrets, all the little things I never noticed even after all these years.

You know why this beats the real world, Lawrence?

Real world is just chaos.

It's an accident.

But in here, every detail adds up to something.

Even you, Lawrence.

What do you want from me?

The maze.

How do I find the entrance?

I told you, I don't know anything about no f*cking maze.

Here you go, darlin'.

And you get to decide what we're gonna do with them.

Hell, it took you long enough.

I was getting the grand reserve.

Only for our most distinguished guests.

Yeah, I'm sure it had nothing to do with you telling this dipshit's cousins to bring some more men.

You got anything to tell me, Lawrence?

Then I guess we're gonna have to find a way to jog your memory.



This guest already took out an entire posse.

Want me to slow him down?

That gentleman gets whatever he wants.

I feel bad, my friend.

My cousins are usually so hospitable.

You don't understand, Lawrence.

I've been coming here for 30 years.

In a sense, I was... I was born here.

And this here, this...


...this is exactly why I come.



Santa Maria, madre dios.


All right. Well, as much fun as this is, I got to be moving on.





(body thuds)

Like I said, you get to decide these two.

What's it gonna be?

Please, I don't know how to find the maze.

Time for a spin, darlin'.


It's beautifully done, really.

But you see the cracks after a while.

That's why I like the basic emotions.


You know what that means?


(hammer clicks)


(body thuds)


It means when you're suffering, that's when you're most real.

The maze isn't meant for you.

What'd I tell you, Lawrence?

Always another level.

I'll take my chances, sweetheart.

Follow the blood arroyo to the place where the snake lays its eggs.

You have it now. Whatever you want.

Why don't you go home, leave us alone?

No, you don't understand, Lawrence.

This time, I'm never going back.

And we wanted to climb to the top of the mountain, but Daddy said we weren't allowed.

And then Tommy dared me.

And here we are.

Nowhere land.

That seems hardly a fitting name for a place so full.

Can't you see it?

Perhaps you're not looking hard enough.

Boy: At what?

The town with the white church.

Listen. Can't you hear its bell?

(bell tolling)


Yes, I can hear it now.


I thought you might.

You see what a bored mind can conjure?


How did you do that?

Is it magic?

Everything in this world is magic, except to the magician.

Best you head home now.

But Tommy's not going to believe...

You're not going to come back here again, are you?



Run along, now.



You weren't at your office.

You seem to have found me anyway.

Listen, earlier...

Forget it.

Stay a little longer. We can talk.

We never talk.

I'm serious.

So am I.

You're certainly a man comfortable with long, pensive silences.

Although, ironically, your creations never shut up.

They're always talking to each other, even when there are no guests around.

They're always trying to error correct.

Make themselves more human.

When they talk to each other, it's a way of practicing.

Is that what you're doing now?



Man: QA told us she was being decommissioned.

Elsie: Do you work for QA?

No, but...

Run a fast-pass diagnostic.


All righty.

Some non-affect hesitation.

Little cognitive D.

And a fuckload of aggression, courtesy of those morons in narrative.

You don't need to be aggro, do you?

Just a quicker study of those repressed f*cks walking through the door.

Archive this configuration.

Open up her primaries.


Perception. Emotional acuity.

Bump it.





Do they dream?


In her story, she said she dreamed.

Do we make them dream?

f*ck would be the point of that?

Dreams are mainly memories.

Can you imagine how f*cked we'd be if these poor assholes ever remembered what the guests do to them?

We do give them the concept of dreams.

Specifically nightmares.


Just in case somebody forgets to wipe them out at the end of a maintenance session.

If she's got any dreams, it's just of those sloppy f*cks down in the body shop patching her back together again.


She's got some physical discomfort.

Put in a request for a full physical at her next rotation.

All right, gorgeous, you're back to the races. You're gonna wake in three, two, one.

So I ran away, crossed the shining sea.

And when I finally set foot back on solid ground, the first thing I heard was that voice.

Do you know what it said?

It said... this is the new world.

And in this world... you can be whoever the f*ck you want.

(piano playing)


Well, he seemed convinced.

You know the first voice I heard when I got off that boat?

A nice young man from Baton Rouge said my pussy could earn him two whole dollars a day.

And he'd be more than happy to let me have up to 30%.

Well, then I guess you could add lying to your list of sins.

The only thing wrong with the seven deadly sins is that there aren't more of them.

And while we're on the subject, my transgressions wash off a little easier than yours.

At least when my girls are done with a man, he's still left drawing breath.

For the most part.

Man: Get the f*ck away from my table.

(objects crash)

Man #2: Hey, f*ck you!

Well, in that case... (crashing, argument continue) ...here's to our indiscretions.

Men: I'll shoot everyone in this dump...

Spoken and otherwise.




(snaps fingers) Now that's a f*cking vacation!




Three, two, one.


Man: Found it. It's MRSA in her abdomen.

Filthy f*cking animals not cleaning up.

No wonder we have a f*cking fly problem.

Don't look at me. I'm the king of hygiene.

Bullshit. I've seen you.

You just glop that sh1t on and rinse. You understand, soap is mechanical.

Man #2: f*ck are you talking about?


If you're not making the little bubbles, you're not doing sh1t.

f*ck! f*ck! What the f*ck?!


What the f*ck?

(instruments clang)

Man #2: Uh, uh... Uh...


No. Oh, f*ck.

Man: Oh.


Asshole, you forgot to put her in sleep mode.


Don't, don't, don't!

No! No, no, no!

Don't! Don't, don't, don't, don't.


Stop. Put that down!

You break anything in her head, we have to file a damage report.

Uh, okay, let's talk to her.

What's her name?


Hi, Maeve. Maeve, hi.

Look, uh, you gotta calm down.

Okay? Let's sit down and we can help you.

Keep your f*cking hands off me.

(monitor beeping)


(beeping continues)


(electricity crackling)

(electricity crackling)

(quiet chatter)

(metal clanging)

I swear I put it in sleep mode.

Oh, does this look like f*cking sleep mode?

Calm the f*ck down and help me move this... thing before someone sees.

(both grunt)

(coyote howls)


Lee: This storyline will make Hieronymus Bosch look like he was doodling kittens.

I have vivisection, self-cannibalism, a special little something I call the "whoroborus."

Now, I don't want to appear immodest, but this is the apex of what the park could provide...


Miss anything interesting?

...romance, titillation.

Lee not appearing immodest.

Our most skilled guests will fight their ways to the outer limits of the park, besting fearsome braves, seducing nubile maidens, befriending tragically ill-fated sidekicks, and, of course, like all our best narratives over the years, our guests will have the privilege of getting to know the character they're most interested in...


I present our guests' next obsession: Odyssey on Red River.




No, I don't think so.

Lee: Wait, you don't think...

Dr. Ford: What is the point of it?

Get a couple of cheap thrills?

Some surprises?

But it's not enough.

It's not about giving the guests what you think they want.

No, that's simple.

The titillation, horror, elation...

They're parlor tricks.

The guests don't return for the obvious things we do, the garish things.

They come back because of the subtleties, the details.

They come back because they discover something they imagine no on had ever noticed before... something they've fallen in love with. They're not looking for a story that tells them who they are.

They already know who they are.

They're here because they want a glimpse of who they could be.

Logan: Billy!

Let's go.

Dr. Ford: The only thing your story tells me, Mr. Sizemore, is who you are.

Well, isn't there anything you like about it?

What size are those boots?

Something you want to say, Mr. Lowe?

The board, sir.


This might ruffle some feathers.

You promised them a new storyline.

They shall have one.

Something I've been working on for some time.

Something quite original.

(music playing)