01x02 - The Mourner's Kaddish

[bunniefuu]

(plucking strings)

GUARD: Weiter!

(plucking strings continues)

GUARD: Weiter!

(playing "Kaisermarsch" by Wagner)

Do you hear that, Jews?

It's the music of kings!

Of Wagner! Of the Reich!

GUARD: Weiter, weiter.

Wonderful.

It's now or never...

One... Two... Three!

(playing "Hava Nagila")

Stop the Jew music!

(band continues playing)

Stop the damned Jew music!

You hear me?

Didn't you hear me?

What did I say?

Stop!

Enough!

Stop it!

(g*nsh*t)

What is wrong with you?

Do you all want to die?

Stop!

Enough!

Stop!

(g*nsh*t) (grunts)

(birds cawing)

VIOLINIST (faintly): ♪ Hava nagila ♪

♪ Hava nagila ♪

♪ Hava ♪ Stop!

♪ Nagila ♪ Stop!

♪ Hava nagila, hava... ♪

Well...

What is it?

Go on!

Enough!

March on...

Immediately!

Go on!

GUARD: Weiter, weiter!

(softly humming "Hava Nagila")

(several humming softly)

(all humming)

(humming continues)

(humming fades)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

MEYER: And on the Second Day, God created...

The Hunters.

Come on, let's go. MURRAY: Meyer...

Another sweep of files. ROXY: Didn't realize we were running a kindergarten. (overlapping chatter)

There may be something in Richter's things here, if we dig.

So let's dive in.

Mr. O, I'm not risking going to jail 'cause you got a soft spot for Ruth's grandkid.

Now, you're not paying me enough for this sh*t.

Oh, you're the only one he's paying at all, dearie.

Some of us got responsibilities.

MINDY: Meyer, Ruthie... zikhronah livrakha... wanted the boy kept from this place. That's right.

MEYER: He is meant to be here. JOE: No, he is not.

Yes, he is. -ROXY: You're gonna come at me for my kid?

(overlapping arguing)

MURRAY: But she didn't want this.

MEYER: Trust me. Trust and you'll see.

(arguing continues)

♪ ♪

(voices echoing)

Who's "Karl Holstedder"? What did you say?

Who's "Karl Holstedder"? Holstedder.

Uh... Yes.

Gene Martin, aka Heinz Richter...

Yes. -This letter was among his things in the toy shop.

Every eighth letter: "Send instructions #4...

Right. "...to Karl Holstedder.

147 Ocean Way..." Oh, yeah.

"...Port Washington, NY."

It's a coded message. Yes.

Encyclopedia Brown-stein over here.

MEYER: You can't change a creature's nature.

A bear hunts.

A hog shits.

A n*zi plots.

There's no Karl Holstedder on the list.

So we search the Ark. Come on.

Let's do it.

LONNY: We're all gonna fit in here?

Bringing the kid was a big mistake.

You know what? I-I'm not a kid. Okay?

I was bar mitzvahed seven years ago, Sister.

Chanted a little Leviticus, boogied to Mungo Jerry.

After my haftorah, got an over-the-pants hand job from Ruchel Rekenstein.

I know you think I'm this undescended testicle, but I'm old enough to drink, smoke, enlist in the Army, so... I'm not a kid.

And unless you want to Greyhound over to the Indian casino and recruit the Navajo Windtalkers, I think you f*cking need me.

One misstep and I will do things to you so traumatizing, you'll wet your knickers any time you even see Mary f*cking Poppins on the telly.

Are we clear, boy?

MEYER: You like bar mitzvahs?

Welcome to ours.

You're on, Lonny.

Well, this movie star needs no introduction, but let's tell the kid who he's ménage-à-ocho-ing with, huh?

Take it away, Ruchel.

RUCHEL: Shalom, goys and gals.

(woman shouts)

Former MI6, now you run logistics and mission-planning fun.

Sister Harriet, come light candle number one.

♪ ♪

(choking)

MAN: Hallelujah!

RUCHEL: Thank you, thank you.

WOMAN: Amen!

My bedroom's covered with posters of this dreamy, hunky Jew.

Lonny Flash, master of mimicry and disguise, come light candle number two.

♪ ♪

(cheering)

WOMAN: It's him! It's really him!

WOMAN 2: Oh, my God, I love your movies!

MAN: Like a Jewish Robert Redford, I'm telling you!

A black power activist, no detail escapes Roxy Jones of NYC.

Will this counterfeiter, forger, and crime scene cleaner light candle number three?

♪ ♪

(cheering) WOMAN: Power to the people!

WOMAN 2: Groovy, baby!

(man shouting)

This human w*apon is home from 'Nam after three long tours.

Joe Mizushima, forever soldier, light candle number four.

♪ ♪ (b*mb whistling)

(expl*si*n)

MAN: God bless America!

WOMAN: Got a nice tochis, that one!

Mindy and Murray, you've survived the greatest horror in life.

Will you genius, gadget-making weapons experts light candle number five?

♪ ♪

(cheering) MAN: Baruch Hashem!

And finally, my bat mitzvah bash wouldn't be possible without this titan of design.

Meyer Offerman, millionaire bankroller, master plotter, and chief vigilante, come light this sixth candle of mine.

♪ ♪

(applause, cheering)

PHOTOGRAPHER: Okay, everybody, say cheese!

Cheese!

MEYER: Marvelous.

Now that we're all mischpocha, let's go find this Karl Holstedder m*therf*cker, shall we?

HARRIET: Leave no stone unturned.

No. Pore over every file.

Look for anything connected to a Karl Holstedder or 147 Ocean Way.

So this is...

The Ark.

This is the house that Ruth built.

She did this.

Like Noah before her, Ruth built a vessel to guard from extinction today's endangered species: memory, truth.

How?

How did she do all this?

She unearthed all the classified files, records, interviewed thousands of survivors.

Wish I knew about all this while she was still around.

She's still around, kindeleh.

The Ark breathes of her.

It beats of her.

Can't you feel it?

She is here.

♪ ♪

(sighs deeply)

(closes journal)

Where do I start?

(birds singing)

Sommers!

Sommers, open up!

NEIGHBOR: Hey, lady, it's 5:00 in the f*cking morning!

Sir, if you know what's good for you, you will go back to watching your penis pump commercial, okay?

I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm in f*cking Florida.

Don't f*ck with me right now, okay? Sommers!

What the hell are you doing? Hey.

You...

I went by Gretel's place.

What, you been there all night?

Uh-huh.

I had a hunch.

So... I scoured again.

And I found this.

But NASA said she was a w*r refugee. Mm-hmm.

And yet here she is, looking as excited as a white girl at an Engelbert Humperdinck concert.

So you think she was a... n*zi?

I think she was a n*zi chemist.

Zyklon B. Industrial-grade pesticide.

That was the same sh*t used to gas her.

Like I said, it felt personal.

I think...

Gretel had something to do with the gas chambers.

Jesus.

How'd a n*zi get into the States?

I'm on the first flight back to New York to find out.

Talk to INS, the Bureau, see what they can tell me.

Yeah, I'll do some digging around here. See what comes up.

I'll give you a call if I find something.

She looked so little, didn't she?

She didn't look like no monster.

She looked old and little and ordinary.

Monsters can be little.

Monsters can be old.

Hell, monsters can be us.

(over P.A.): This is your captain speaking. We're at 35,000 feet...

When are we gonna get there? Stop. Stop, put your foot down.

BOY: I want to see Tyler Tiger at Wally World.

Shh. Peanuts?

No, he's allergic.

I'll have.

There you are.

STEWARDESS: Peanuts?

Is it bad?

His allergy. Is it... deadly?

It can be, yes.

Scary. What a way to go.

Well... there'll be a cure soon.

I won't rest till there is.

Oh, you and me both.

You know... allergies are a modern invention.

Like depression or schizophrenia.

Because once upon a time, we let nature reign, and it weeded out the sick and the weak from our gene pool.

It kept us... pure.

These days, well, there is a drug for everything.

Yet suddenly the whole population is now sick, and the sick have created so much v*olence and suffering that a person has to hop on a plane and pay a small fortune to take pictures with anthropomorphic animals just to keep himself sane.

All because we tell the nice stewardess a little boy shouldn't have any Miss Petunia's Peanuts.

Or perhaps he should.

Because he is the poison, and this is the cure.

So... peanut?

JEANINE FRIST: Tonight on First with Frist, Biff Simpson on the tragic m*ssacre of his family.

It'll be the little things I miss most.

Eating Little Caesars pizza... watching Six Million Dollar Man, cuddled on the couch.

Just telling 'em "I love you."

I wish I could have done more.

I wish it'd... it'd been me.

But my Lottie always said...

...love means never having to say you're sorry.

(whimpers)

(sobbing)

This has been a special presentation of First with Frist.

And now back to your regular programming, Me and the Chimp.

You don't remember us, do you?

I don't think so. (Murray chuckles)

My mother always said, "Murray, you have a forgettable face."

Ages five to eight, she reintroduced herself every time she saw me.

True story. (laughs)

Oh, well, you-you were just a yingeleh... f-five or six years old.

Your safta took you to meet us at Art's Deli.

Yeah, yeah. Mm-hmm. Remember that, Murray?

Cute as a kugel you were. (Murray chuckling)

You looked just like him.

JOE: Hey, got something.

An SS roll from Buchenwald.

Names a n*zi engineer, Karl Holstedder.

Buchenwald. Engineer. 10-4, Eleanor.

Yeah.

Karl Holstedder, the Pied Piper of Buchenwald.

He was the emcee of the Buchenwald camp.

A brilliant radio engineer, he ran the camp's control center.

But on Saturday, Shabbos, he held his horror show, The Star of Buchenwald.

Good Evening, Buchenwald!

Your master of ceremonies, Hauptsturmfuhrer Holstedder here.

Back for another episode of THE STAR OF BUCHENWALD!

(mid-tempo music playing)

MEYER: It was a singing competition.

A sadistic Gong Show.

Every Shabbos, Holstedder rounded up ten men and made them sing for their lives.

(singing in German)

MEYER: If you sang out of tune...

It's a D-flat, Number 218763.

(g*nsh*t)

(singing in German)

If you forgot the words...

Come on, 217742:

"In the Graceland of our Fathers."

(g*nsh*t)

(all singing)

Someone is a quarter step ahead...

(g*nsh*t)

Until there was only one left.

(screaming)

Well, Mr. Holstedder... come on down.

So, how do you like The Hunters?

They scare the sh*t out of me.

(Meyer laughing)

Yes! (chuckles)

How'd you recruit 'em, anyway, Professor X?

No.

Well...

...I went to a matchmaker.

♪ Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match... ♪ -But that's not all she is.

(man speaking indistinctly)

(doorbell buzzes)

♪ Night after night, in the dark I'm alone... ♪ Yes, thank you.

♪ Of my own. ♪ HILDA (chuckling): Oh, my God.

Shalom, my dear love. I can't believe this.

Oh, I can't either. Mwah.

My darling. Come sit, Meyerleh, sit.

Eh, what a neighborhood.

I know. Very fancy.

It is fancy. I'm so glad I dressed. -(laughs)

30 years in our new shtetl of Manhattan, you don't break fast with me, you don't venture to my sukkah.

What did a little old matchmaker do to deserve such kavod?

Well, I wasn't looking to be matched, Hilda.

So, if that's all right with you...

It's 40 years pining only for Ruth.

This is the oldest "Will They or Won't They" in the world, since-since Jacob and Rachel.

(laughing): Oh, God.

You have a lot of security for a little old matchmaker, no?

Well, you know, can you think of a creature more dangerous than a Jewish mother with an unwed daughter?

(both laugh)

Matchmaker in the daylight.

But don't sell yourself short, because you've commodified the occupation of yenta.

You weaponized the Rolodex.

You are the Jewish world's fixer, no?

Hmm?

So... if not for a bride, or even a shtup, you know, one might ponder why the gentleman from Park Avenue comes all this way to see me.

Hmm? Cut to the liver, darling.

Well... Ruth and I, we found something.

Two n*zi doctors... living here among us.

So, we need you, Hilda.

I help you with this, it makes noise.

In my line of work, noise is death.

31 years since liberation.

You know, in that time, I have made 345 matches, producing 957 new Jewish souls.

And, and seven more imas-to-be are pregnant as we speak.

It should be enough for Hashem, Meyer.

I suppose so, too, comes the responsibility to make the world better for these 957 lives.

You say there are Nazis among us?

I suppose, then, you are asking me for...

A team.

I need highly skilled. Covert. See?

This is no team, dear.

No. No?

This is appointed by God.

This is a, is a congregation. A tribe.

What you need is a group who knows how to bend the rules.

A collective who will take justice into its own hands.

Ragtag, just like, like The Dirty Dozens.

957.

Hilda, if God does not hear that, then He is deaf.

957.

It's still 5,999,043 short.

Yes.

But we have time yet, yeah?

Yes.

Come on, let's go find you these rascals.

You went to a matchmaker to put together a group of n*zi hunters?

That's... the Jewiest sh*t I've ever heard.

Why'd they say yes?

In time, you'll come to know their stories.

Their secrets.

And perhaps you'll come to tell them yours.

We leave shortly. Time for a hunt.

MINDY: Just... I said no. I am not sitting your beached whale of a cousin, the insufferable Eileen Shekenstein, anywhere near us, Murray.

It's Amy's wedding. She'll sit where Amy wants her to sit.

You know she's still never apologized to me for missing Simchas Torah dinner.

Her husband d*ed the night before.

Well, exactly. That gave her a whole day to RSVP.

Get in the car.

(sighs)

Um... Oh.

Okay.

Uh... sorry, man.

Bet you never met a movie star before, huh?

Judah Macca-bro, how's it hanging?

Uh, fine, yeah. (clears throat)

You know, the fear goes away.

What? No, no.

No, I'm-I'm... I'm cool. I'm just, uh...

As scared as an uncircumcised schlong at a mohel convention? I was, too.

Gets easier, trust me.

(inhales, exhales)

You know, I loved Ruth like she was my own bubbe.

Though, if only she was a couple years younger, I might've loved her a little differently.

Know what I'm saying? Mazel'd her Tov.

Gefilte'd her fish.

That's f*cked up, man. Hey, she found me at rock bottom.

Okay, she kicked my ass into shape.

Not as good a shape as Kris Kristofferson's ass.

That ass should be in the Louvre.

That's a, that's a thing of miracles, but she saved me.

She saved you? Oh, yeah.

Yeah, she was one special lady, Ruth.

And because I loved her, I love you, brother man.

So if any of these dicks mess with you, I will...

Well, I'm-I'm not gonna f*ck with them

'cause they scare the sh*t out of me, but I will definitely be like, "Yeah, they suck" behind their backs with you.

Anything you need, Lonny Flash has got you.

Cheeks and Bootyhole are never gonna believe this sh*t.

Oh, yeah, who's Bootycall?

Bootyhole and-and Cheeks, they...

They're just some kids on my block.

Yeah. Well, if only they could see you now, right?

A real life f*cking Jew-per hero.

Don't be nervous, man. This sh*t'll be fun.

It's just like the movies, huh.

("The Great Escape" by John Cameron playing)

NARRATOR: This summer.

Nazis beware.

This Army of the Night is out for your head.

Reich? Wrong. -(screaming)

(grunting)

Orion Pictures presents The Hunters.

With newcomer Jonah Heidelbaum as The Codebreaker.

(shouting) -ROXY: Jonah?

You good? You were mumbling to yourself.

Oh, yeah, I'm good. I just, uh, had a little...

(smacks lips) tickle in my throat, you know?

Little cough. (coughs)

Time to go, Codebreaker.

(engine starts)

(tires screeching)

BETTY (over phone): Immigration and Naturalization Services.

Hey, Betty, it's Millie. Uh, my flight was delayed, but I'll be across town in an hour, so...

Don't bother, Mil. I pulled the file you called about.

Yeah? -Gretel Fischer. Ain't nothing in it.

What do you mean there ain't nothing in it?

I don't know. It's been cleared out. It's empty.

Your files are all empty? -No, just hers and one other.

Looks like her brother, a Hans Fischer.

Hans Fischer?

The family's files are just gone.

(panting)

My mom made me work out with her this morning.

She made me do the rhythm method with her.

Bro, you think the rhythm method is something it definitely ain't.

(knocking on door)

f*cking stairs.

Yo, J-Money. (banging on door)

He's not gonna answer. He's mad at us.

You're gonna have to talk to us, bro.

Yeah, we shouldn't have left you. We should...

Look, we're-we're sorry, okay?

We should... We shouldn't have chickened out.

CAROL: He ain't home.

I haven't seen him in two days.

Two f*cking days?

I was actually starting to get worried.

sh*t's fishier than a mermaid's cooch at a dolphin orgy.

Where the f*ck did he go?

FRANNIE: Yeah, Hans and Gretel hadn't spoken for years. (chuckles)

You know how siblings can drift apart. MORRIS: Mm.

But when her son called about the accident, I-I was beside myself.

She was such a sweet woman, Gretel.

Oh, thank you, Ms. Fischer. There you go.

Um, if I may... Mm-hmm?

...why is the FBI involved?

Well, uh, she worked for NASA. Just standard procedure.

Oh.

Actually, Frannie, I was hoping I could speak with your husband.

Uh, well, that won't be possible, unfortunately.

Uh, Hans d*ed in a car accident six months ago.

I'm sorry.

Yes, he... he drove home late.

A chicken pox outbreak in town that kept him at work.

He never let a single child go untreated.

Police said it looked like his engine exploded.

The force ripped his teeth right out of his mouth.

Did you notice anything strange before your husband d*ed?

Was he on edge?

Anyone bothering him?

No. What do you mean?

Oh, I'm just turning over every stone.

He was very handsome.

I read that Hans was a German w*r refugee like his sister.

What did he do during the w*r?

Hans was a doctor.

Red Cross.

(chuckles)

Did he have to help any Jews? Yes.

How did he feel about them?

Well, how does anyone feel about them, dear?

They're Jews.

I'm s... Do you have a bathroom I can use?

(toilet flushes)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

What are you doing in here?

(stammers) Thank you. Thank you for your time.

("Evil Woman" by Lou Rawls playing)

♪ Oh, woman, when I seen you comin' ♪

♪ I shoulda started runnin' ♪

♪ You evil woman... ♪ YOUNGER MAN: Oh, shiz, oh, shiz, Captain!

OLDER MAN: Kirk, Captain Kirk! Say it!

YOUNGER MAN: Oh, God, Captain Kirk!

Ah, f*ck me, Spock.

f*ck my photon torpedo bay, you half-Vulcan f*ck.

(camera shutter clicking)

Good morning, Senator O'Heir. What the f*ck? Y...

I'll have you arrested. I'll have you k*lled!

No, no, no, no, dear, you won't.

You're a fan of role-play, so let's partake.

Here's what will happen, Mr. O'Heir.

You will end your filibuster against lifting sanctions for South American goods, and if you don't, these photos will be on the front cover of every newspaper from here to planet Vulcan.

Who the f*ck are you?

We're the good guys, Captain Kirk.

We're trying to save the world.

♪ Evil woman, with your dirty dealings ♪

♪ Evil woman ♪

♪ Didn't care about my feelings ♪

♪ Evil woman. ♪ Let's drop the needle on Karl Holstedder, shall we?

Hmm. I'll ring us on in.

Roxy will draw the curtains.

Joe will admire the view.

Murray and Mindy will set the mood.

Lonny... will do whatever the bloody f*ck you do.

Um...

What do I do?

The adults will make their grand entrances here, here, and here at the illustrious

147 Ocean Way.

The sodding fat cat music producer is in his recording studio.

We'll take our seats, and then Meyer can do a little dance, make a little love, and get down tonight.

So let's get to tickling the ivories of this torturous twat, shall we, loves?

(playing Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata" on piano)

(silenced g*nshots)

MURRAY: Looks like a 247B switch.

No, moron, that is a 247A.

All right.

Wait. I'm waiting.

MURRAY: Go.

♪ ♪

Wow. It's like the entire guest list of Freddie Mercury's annual Vaseline party.

That's where I got that accidental hand job from Peter, Paul and Mary. (chuckles)

Classic P, P and M.

Erik Folsom.

Almost as shitty of a stage name as Lonny Flash.

Hey, you can call me Leonard Flazenstein any día of the semana, baby.

ROXY: Come on.

(breathing heavily)

(plays final notes)

(whimpers)

MEYER: Shalom, Karl.

For far too many winks, you were our nightmare.

Now let us be yours.

Oh, my God. I'll have you arrested.

Rounded up and... And sh*t?

Gassed? Buried alive?

I never liked your music.

It, uh...

For your kind, it was... music was always for v*olence, vanity, death.

But for us, music is remembrance, it's rebellion, it's life.

In the music our people survive.

Wha-What is he doing?

He's giving him the thing our people never received: a trial.

Oh, you are my judge, jury, executioner, Juden?

No, I am nobody.

I am but the stenographer here.

They... the millions... are the judge and jury.

The millions who call out from the grave... for justice.

We are holding you on a charge of a thousand counts of m*rder of Jews at Buchenwald.

And also on a charge of the m*rder of millions as accessory to the n*zi regime.

So, how do you plead?

I plead that you go to hell.

We shall present the evidence now.

Testimonies from survivors.

n*zi SS rolls declaring Karl Holstedder as Hauptsturmfuhrer of the SS.

Finally, a photograph from n*zi records identifying this man as Karl Holstedder.

Can you verify that this is you, sir?

That is me, yes.

But I did not do the things you accuse me of.

We have testimonies.

Yeah. -Firsthand accounts from survivors.

From Hiram Flaustein... he's from Brooklyn, New York.

Survivor of Buchenwald. And... from Ralphie Schneider, a survivor of Buchenwald.

From Jerome Putnitsky.

From... from Mordecai Klinger.

From Alexander Cohen.

From Lloyd Evan and from Ludwig Platz.

From Samuel Cantel.

Shlomo Waxman.

From... I...

It's propaganda.

It's lies.

(zipper opens, closes)

(closes file cabinet)

LONNY: Rox?

Karl Holstedder, on the thousand counts of m*rder, you have been found guilty.

Go To Hell!

Hell is not so bad as the way to it.

What the f*ck?

Want to sit down? All right. Sure. Sure, of course.

What is it? It's a homegrown radio station.

They're broadcasting something.

Well, they're communicating with each other, that's what they're doing. Yeah. -Communicating what?

What? Uh, here, let's see what's going out live.

(girl singing in German)

"Two little boats at night on the sea.

Ten ducklings in the barn."

(girl continues singing in German)

"Six mothers moved east." Yeah?

(girl continues singing in German)

"And a little child was born."

Third Reich Sesame Street's creepy as sh*t.

Remind me never to play it for my future kids.

I'll first remind you never to procreate.

What if it's those "instructions #4"?

What if they're sending out some heavy-ass hidden message?

Well, then we bloody will shut these twats up.

MURRAY: Wait, wait, wait. Wait.

Hold the horses now.

If you stop it, then they'll know, right?

They'll know that we're onto them. Yes, they will. Yes, yes.

Where is this broadcasting to?

How far? To how many?

Well-well-well-well, we don't know.

We would have to reroute the sync.

Okay, well, find out, find out quickly.

In the meantime...

I'm gonna make the piano man sing us a song.

MURRAY: I have to take off the whole back.

Well, then do it.

Hello, Karl.

Now, we can make this interrogation painless or painful.

Depends on you.

What do you think?

Let me ask you: who are you communicating with?

What are you broadcasting?

Lullabies for the children.

Ah. -Broadcast symphonies, too.

Operas.

(laughs): Even ABBA when it tickles me.

I give away freebies sometimes to the first caller.

Okay, Joe.

I think we're ready.

The ears are the most sensitive part of the body.

They control balance and bodily function.

(door closes)

(loud humming)

Now, Karl, last chance.

(sighs)

Okay, Joe, let's do it.

(groaning) ♪ Gonna tell Aunt Mary ♪

♪ About Uncle John, he claims he has the misery ♪

♪ But he has a lot of fun, oh, baby ♪ -(glass rattling)

♪ Yeah, baby ♪

♪ Whoo-ooh-ooh, baby ♪

♪ Havin' me some fun tonight ♪

♪ Yeah, well, long tall Sally ♪

♪ She's built for speed... ♪ What are you broadcasting?

(panting): I don't know what you are talking about!

♪ Baby, whoo-ooh-ooh, baby ♪ Oh, my God. (sobbing) (glass breaking)

f*ck. (gasps) -♪ I saw Uncle John with bald-head Sally ♪

♪ He saw Aunt Mary comin' and he jumped back ♪

♪ In the alley, oh, baby ♪

(whimpering) (feedback warbling)

Stop, stop, stop. Stop.

Please.

(glass rattling)

f*cking Christ, come on, man.

You're gonna burst his f*cking eardrums, stop.

What the f*ck are you doing?

(screaming) (glass breaking)

(screaming): Oh, my God!

It's all right. -His f*cking ear's bleeding. Stop it, man!

MEYER: We know it. (music stops)

(sobbing)

My God, I just...

I just...

They mail me tapes.

I p... I broadcast them, that's all I do!

Who? Who-who tells you to play them?

(sobbing)

There's a man, a man...

One man, I don't...

He's the only one I've ever seen.

Richter?

I don't know any Richter!

I swear, I don't, I don't know his name.

We don't use our real names.

(sobbing): Oh, my God.

He's a man like me.

(panting)

A man who was brought here.

Brought here? Brought here by whom?

(Karl laughing)

By you!

By you.

MINDY: Meyerleh, we need you now.

Broadcasting to the whole tristate area.

Watch him.

(Karl whimpering)

(muttering)

Water. Water.

Water. Please.

Oh, God.

(Karl sighs)

I didn't do what they say. Shut the f*ck up, man.

But I was your age when I first heard him.

I don't want to hear your h*tler fan fiction.

Not h*tler. Wagner.

My father was a cruel man.

He believed music was weak.

If you even dared hum, he b*at you senseless.

But when I was 17, I heard it.

Coming from the halls of the Berliner Philharmonie.

(Karl sniffles)

I never wanted to hurt anyone.

I was just a boy... following orders.

Perhaps like you.

Shut the f*ck up.

Shut the f*ck up. If you keep on this path, you will hear it, too.

Forever.

The ringing in your ears.

That is why...

I made them sing.

To drown it out.

The ringing.

S-So I could hear the music again.

(Karl whimpering)

I need water.

All right, all right. I need the water, please.

f*ck, okay. Okay. Please.

Thank you. Oh...

Just tilt your head back.

(moans) (clatter in distance)

f*ck.

(Karl grunts)

Hey. Take it easy.

If you want the boy to live... you will let me out of this f*cking...

No!

(yelps) What?

(Jonah gasping)

What the f*ck did you do?

He was our only f*cking lead.

You f*cking child! -LONNY: All right, all right, all right, all right.

JOE: You did this! I'm gonna f*cking k*ll you! -Come on!

I didn't mean to. Piece of sh*t child. -You're okay.

Kid f*cked up, got Holstedder k*lled.

It blew the broadcast.

(phone ringing)

(slow breathing over phone)

(line clicks)

(hangs up phone)

We got to go.

We got to go. Come.

Get, uh, whatever you can.

Take it, take it.

MEYER: Jonah!

(coughing) Hey.

Yeah. Jonah, Jonah.

(panting) Yeah.

Here, come here.

Jonah. -I got him k*lled. I got him k*lled.

No, no. A n*zi, yes.

And he would have k*lled you if it weren't for Joe.

He would've k*lled you. -No. Were you still gonna k*ll him?

Were you still gonna k*ll him if you got everything that you needed?

Were you still gonna k*ll him? Were you still gonna k*ll him?

I would have delivered justice, yes.

Yes. No. No, no.

f*cking sh*t. We should've brought him in.

What? We should've brought him in.

To whom? -We could've brought him in. We could've brought him in.

Who do we bring him in to?

The f*cking... the police. The f*cking police, the Feds.

Oh, no. Jonah, Jonah, I told you this.

The f*cking... the people who take care of this f*cking sh*t.

I told you this before, didn't I?

In this country, Lady Justice may be blind to all, but to many of us, (spits) she is also deaf.

Do you know how many Nazis the U.S. ex*cuted at Nuremberg?

Twelve.

12 perpetrators out of eight million.

And they're on the march again, these forever soldiers.

These monsters.

No wonder they thought they could come here.

So we are left... us... to do God's work.

Ruth's work, Jonah.

Ruth's.

Come.

We are missing maariv.

What the f*ck is maariv?

It's evening services.

To say Mourner's Kaddish for Ruth.

No, I don't believe in that. Oh, Jonah, it doesn't matter if you believe or not believe.

I don't care if you believe in Santa Claus.

It doesn't matter. It's about Ruth, not about you.

It is the duty of Ruth's family to pray for her soul.

And if ever a soul deserved it, it would be hers. No?

Come, Jonah. Come.

(music playing faintly in distance)

(sighs)

(door opens, closes) (chuckles)

MARIA: You didn't get me a souvenir?

No Mickey ears or some sh*t?

(moans)

(sighs) How much did you miss me?

What's wrong, mama?

(grunts softly)

(romantic ballad playing)

TRAVIS: You know, people think flamingos are pink.

(romantic ballad continues over radio)

It's a common misconception.

They are white.

Pure white.

It's the red blood of what they eat, their prey, that gives them their color.

(quiet whimpering)

Why were you looking into Gretel Fischer, Detective?

What did you find? (women gasping)

(muffled grunt)

Shh, shh, shh. It's okay.

It's okay.

(muffled): Hey, hey, hey. Listen.

Shh. Shh.

I know undue stress can be bad for the baby.

(muffled sobbing)

So how about we play a little game instead, hmm?

Fowl-inspired, of course.

Duck.

(muffled): Hey.

Duck. (muffled grunting)

Goose.

(muffled): Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey.

Hey! Hey! (silenced g*nsh*t)

No! No! (women screaming)

(muffled pleading)

There was a photograph.

Of Gretel and h*tler.

She was a n*zi.

Who else knows about this? No one but me.

Fun. Another round.

No. No. No! No!

(muffled pleading) (women sobbing)

Hey. (muffled pleading)

Spaghetti.

Spaghetti.

Meatball. No.

No, no, no! (silenced g*nsh*t)

(muffled shouting) (women screaming)

(panting)

She was an FBI agent.

She's... her name's Millie.

Millie Morris.

♪ ♪

Hansel and Gretel... do you know that story?

Two German children... blond-haired, blue-eyed... find this rich old witch living in the woods.

The... the kids claim that the witch wants to eat them alive.

You know, use their good Christian blood for food.

And so the German children push her into an oven, watch her burn alive, and steal her fortune.

And that's the happy ending.

I think... the witch was a Jew.

You know, I think they called her a witch, but... but they really meant Jew.

This old Jewish woman, living in the woods, banished from town, not doing anything to anyone.

And then h*tler Youth just b*rned her alive.

(sighs)

(smacks lips) Yeah.

Fairy tales aren't written for us, but we're the ones that are meant to fight the monsters.

You know?

I'll write you a fairy tale. (chuckles)

A new one.

For you and me.

(phone ringing) (classical music playing)

Hello? -BIFF: You catch me on First with Frist?

The Post called me braver than a stewardess on a Palestinian-h*jacked 747.

Get her for me, would you, champ?

What is this regarding?

Uh, what?

Uh, we've got Carter, the ports, the sanctions... -We'll be in touch.

If there's something to be in touch about.

(Colonel makes kissing noise)

(dial tone humming)

(crickets chirping)

(bird squawking)

(horns honking) (busy chatter)

(Rabbi Grossman leading group in Hebrew prayer)

Amen. Amen.

(Meyer whispers)

GROSSMAN: All those saying the Mourner's Kaddish, please remain standing, as we honor those who have passed.

(Grossman leading group in Hebrew prayer)

(Jonah sighs, begins reciting prayer)

(high-pitched ringing)

HOLSTEDDER: You will hear it, too.

A ringing in your ears.

Amen. Amen.

(Grossman continues leading group in Hebrew prayer)

(ringing continues)

(Jonah begins reciting prayer quietly, then stops)

(ringing continues)

Can I say it for him, too?

For who?

(Grossman continues leading group in Hebrew prayer)

(ringing continues)

(breathes deeply)

(Grossman continues leading group in Hebrew prayer)

No, I can't do this.

Uh... No. I can't do this.

MEYER: No, Mindyleh.

(mouthing)

Jonah.

Jonah!

(high-pitched ringing)

(grunts)

(panting)

♪ ♪

(ringing continues)

(grunting)

(ringing continues)

(grunting)

(panting)

(groans)

(grunting)

(yelling)

(panting)

♪ ♪

(clock ticking, chiming)

(child singing lullaby in German over radio)

(lullaby continues in German over radio)

(lullaby continues in German over radio)

(lullaby continues in German over radio)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(music fades)