- I'm gonna grab coffee. You want some?
- I had some on the plane.
Excuse me. May I?
Students are welcome to everything.
- Cold season.
- Sorry, what?
- I was just saying it's cold season.
- Oh.
Bill.
- How are you? Welcome.
- Thank you.
How's your family?
Since when do you
care about any of that?
I'm adopting a facade of caring.
- You want to dive in?
- Yeah.
Here he is.
Dr. Wendy Carr, my partner Holden Ford.
Dr. Carr.
Agent Ford. I've read a lot about you.
- About me?
- Your notes.
Uh, thank you.
Okay, um, let's go to my office.
I'm glad this worked out.
When you sent me your notes
from the Kemper meetings,
I was in a real rut with my new book.
- What's your book about?
- It's about white-collar criminals,
men not so different
to your Edmund Kemper.
How do you think the men you
study are similar to Edmund Kemper?
Well, first of all,
they're all psychopaths.
I study captains of industry:
IBM, MGM, Ford, Exxon, you name it.
And sure, these men all have
wives, kids, dogs, goldfish,
but not because they
stopped being psychopaths,
but because they just
had different leanings.
But you think they have the same
underlying personality traits?
Well, Kemper shows a
total lack of remorse,
a lack of inner emotional structure,
no ability to reflect on
the experience of others.
- You saw this in my notes?
- It would've been clearer
if you'd recorded and transcribed
your interviews verbatim,
but yeah.
Although your project is
obviously in the nascent stages,
it already feels like a clear
successor to The Mask of Sanity,
which, as you know,
is quite a compliment.
Repeat that? The Mask of...
So you're saying you don't think this,
us interviewing these K*llers, is crazy?
Just the opposite.
I mean, crazy in the way that anyone
with a truly new idea is crazy.
- But no.
- Wow, okay.
That's a relief.
That hasn't really been the
feedback we've gotten so far.
Actually, this is the only
feedback we've gotten so far.
Well, these men are just
sitting here, locked up.
And we're too afraid
of the morality of it
to see the far-reaching
value of their insights.
Far-reaching in law enforcement?
Into behavioral science, early
detection, criminology, you name it.
Oh, yes, yes. This is what
I've been saying the whole time.
Oh, have you?
You need to put this on
a more formal footing.
It's gonna take a lot of time and energy
to expand it into a larger project
with a specific questionnaire.
Their family histories,
what their thoughts
were on why they did it,
when they were aroused during
the killings, that sort of thing.
Then contrast, compare, and publish.
Publish?
Well, you can't just circulate
your findings within the FBI.
- I mean, maybe even turn it into a book.
- A book?
Whoa. We appreciate
the vote of confidence,
but we weren't allowed
to send you those notes.
- We can't publicize what we're doing.
- Why not?
Our department head
gave us weekends only
and an office in the basement.
We still have students, we
have Road School full-time.
- We can't just drop everything...
- Road School?
We travel around the country
and teach FBI techniques to cops.
- Oh.
- We're seeing Benjamin Miller
in Bridgewater this afternoon.
Road School is what gives us the freedom
to go out and interview these guys.
We can go bit by bit.
Kemper and Miller and
build out from there.
Make a study in our
free time, like you said.
I didn't realize that
this was so informal.
We could make it formal. We can
do that easily. And then a book.
The successor to The Mask of...
I guess I just wanted to
get another set of eyes,
see if you thought this was
valuable from an academic standpoint.
Have you shown your Kemper
notes to your department head?
No.
Teaching police departments,
can someone else do that?
- Anyone can, it's really not that hard.
- That is not true,
and it's beside the point.
Shepard doesn't even want
us to talk about this.
You really think he's going to say
yes to a full-time academic study?
Never mind a book?
You think people would be interested
in this outside of law enforcement?
I mean, imagine,
like truly imagine what it takes
to bludgeon someone to death.
The lust for control,
the feeling of arousal,
the decision to r*pe the
severed head of your victim,
to humiliate her corpse.
How could you possibly get that
from an ordinary police report?
You know why it took me nearly
a decade to publish my book?
Because narcissists
don't go to the doctor.
Psychopaths are convinced that
there is nothing wrong with them.
So these men are virtually
impossible to study.
Yet you have found a way to study them
in near perfect laboratory conditions.
That's what make this so exciting
and potentially so far-reaching.
It's not that I disagree. I've
spent enough time with Holden
that I know what it means
when he gets that crazy look.
I'm afraid it's just not feasible
within the bureaucracy of the FBI.
We've got weekends. We've got
the evenings after Road School,
an hour or so before Road School.
We don't have to tell Shepard.
Interviewing 40 men across
the States is a full-time job.
And if you want this to be
a legitimate academic study,
then you're looking at
four, maybe five years.
- And compiling, analyzing the data.
- Right.
Well...
It's a shame.
We have an interview with Miller in
an hour and it's a bit of a drive.
You know, this is really important work.
If your boss won't let you do it,
then you should talk to someone who
has the freedom and resources to...
We'll stick with it for now.
It'll be slow going, but
we're not ready to give up yet.
Of course not.
But it's good to get some encouragement,
even if our hands are tied.
Thank you.
It's a pleasure.
- What if...
- Don't.
- I'm just saying we could...
- Holden.
Look, I'm frustrated too.
You know, they sh**t
the birds in the yard
because they might
be smuggling in dr*gs.
Actually, I don't know if that's
true. A girlfriend told me once.
- You date a lot of ex-cons?
- No.
Actually, Debbie's the first girl
I've really dated-dated
since high school.
- Dated-dated.
- Yeah.
My wife's the first woman
that I've married-married.
I thought they said 3:00.
What are we waiting for?
You'd be less fidgety
if you smoked cigarettes.
I should have brought a tape recorder.
Bureau Agents Tench and Ford?
Gentlemen. I'm Dr. Cale. We
spoke earlier on the phone.
Thanks for doing this, Doctor. We
realize it's somewhat unorthodox.
Unfortunately, Miller
says he won't talk to you.
Now, we told him in
advance and he agreed,
but there's really
nothing we can do now.
- He should be in a better mood tomorrow.
- Tomorrow?
Well, he gets like this sometimes.
Just needs a cool-off period
before he can interact with people.
We have to bring him food into
his cell because he won't come out.
We're headed out tonight.
We can't come in tomorrow.
I'm sorry. Will you be
back to Boston another time?
Perhaps.
Thanks for your time,
Doctor. We appreciate it.
Of course.
Well, that's the last time
we give them advanced notice.
Holden?
Ever feel like you're
on the cusp of something,
and it keeps spinning out in your head?
- Where'd you get that ironing board?
- Your closet.
I just can't stop thinking
about this project.
Dr. Carr said it could have
far-reaching consequences.
Why are you up? Did you smoke my pot?
I can't stop thinking about this
project. The idea is so exciting.
Okay.
Just don't wake me up
when you come back to bed.
Rissell's an hour or so away,
so we don't have to do
Road School to get to him.
There's, uh... Vaughn Greenwood.
- The Skid Row Slasher?
- Yeah, he's in California.
Along with Herbert Mullin.
The Cincinnati Strangler...
- What's his name?
- Posteal Laskey Jr.
- I assume he's in Cincinnati?
- Uh...
Yeah.
I like teaching the Midwest
cops. Hospitable guys.
There's always Richard
Speck in Illinois.
- Great, we can do a Midwest sweep.
- Gerard John Schaefer.
He k*lled at least 30, they
think. That was in Florida, though.
I can't say no to a Florida golf course.
Bill Tench.
- Hey, Bill. It's Roy Carver.
- Hey, Roy. What can I do for you?
We need to talk. There's
been another att*ck.
This time resulting in a fatality.
- Got it.
- Can I get you guys back out here?
Okay. Let me get back to you.
- What's up?
- Carver.
Been another one.
Same age as Rosemary Gonzales,
only this time she's dead.
Bill, my God! We're vindicated.
What's the matter with you?
An old lady was just m*rder*d.
We can talk to Kemper again.
Did she have a dog? Please
tell me there's a dog.
A bigger dog. Slit from ear to ear.
Amen.
Not only is this exactly
what we predicted,
but he's getting a taste
for it, there will be more.
A sequence k*ller.
A sequence k*ller?
What we're calling it when
they k*ll three or more.
Is this a new classification? Need
to get a steno to put it in writing.
You bet. I'll talk to Marge.
This is what you were talking
about with the Kemper thing?
We briefed them with a description.
We need to make sure they bring him in.
- It's what we predicted.
- Thank you, Holden. I've been listening.
- We have to make this right.
- I agree. You do now.
What are you waiting for?
You got a plane to catch.
Yes, sir.
Name was Laura Conway.
Living literally half a mile
away, practically up the street.
Same thing exactly, same time of night
that Rosemary Gonzales was att*cked,
about 10:30 or 11:00.
What about the dog?
A dog like that must've put up a fight.
Your unsub will have bite marks.
The dog's f*cking lasagna.
We rousted a bunch of kids,
had an 18-year-old from
the neighborhood we liked,
but he had an alibi.
- What was it?
- He's a fry cook.
Clocked in till midnight,
his coworkers vouch for him.
You spoke to his boss?
Yeah, one of these new burger
joints. Big corporate set up.
Like McDonald's?
- Actually, I don't remember.
- We might have to rethink.
Look at that dog.
Someone had a good f*cking grip
on it, damn near eviscerated.
Now this woman wasn't as
frail as Mrs. Gonzales.
Whoever did this wasn't
easily scared off.
- Older.
- And determined.
I don't understand the
sexual as*ault part.
- Why just groping? Why not r*pe her?
- Because he didn't want to.
He just wanted to
dominate and humiliate her.
- That's one sick son of a bitch.
- Supposing he's 35, 40.
Supposing these women
are his mom's age...
- It's a mom thing.
- Wait, 40? Did I just hear you correctly?
- This is not a kid.
- I've been rounding up teenagers.
This time wasn't as
frenzied. It's not a teenager.
Sacramento DA reamed my
ass for hassling busboys,
and you've changed your mind?
It's not a one-off. This
isn't some random freak-out.
- This guy is getting confident.
- At least late 20s.
Physically mature. Emotionally
immature. Socially undeveloped.
- Possibly still lives at home.
- Narcotics, maybe.
That's why he b*at her this
badly, didn't know when to stop.
- You think?
- Why not?
Not if he lives at
home. Maybe he's married.
- Or separated.
- Separated?
Guys in unhappy marriages
have hair triggers.
They lash out. Especially
when it comes to women.
- I wouldn't know anything about that.
- Lucky you.
You guys still think he's
white? Not Latino? Black?
I think blacks, Latinos might be
too respectful of an elderly woman.
- My bet is poor white trash.
- Listen, we did talk to some older guys.
And this one right here
is pretty interesting.
Just came walking up off the street.
"Hey, what happened? Did
anybody see?" He'd been drinking.
One of these guys who likes
talking to cops, you know.
We should talk to him.
Sure.
Mom.
Good morning.
Do you remember me?
Yeah, I remember you.
Mom!
Ma'am, I'm Detective Roy Carver.
These are my colleagues,
Bill Tench and Holden Ford.
- Hello.
- What do you want?
It's Dwight, right?
- What do you want with him?
- These gentlemen are with the FBI.
Well, now what has he done?
Who the hell have you
brought into my home?
May we come in?
FBI knocking at my door.
I might as well be
dead for all he cares.
Just k*ll me now because
that is what you're doing.
And it is a slow death.
He's my only son. I might as
well walk up to the freeway,
stick my head under a truck
and save myself the misery.
We'd just like to ask
Dwight a few questions.
Are these yours, Dwight?
You'd think he'd be out of my hair
by now. Move the f*ck on, but no.
- You sleep on the couch?
- When he's not too drunk to get up there.
Maybe we can talk outside,
Dwight. Have a smoke.
Take him.
Just give me a f*cking
moment to breathe.
Cigarette?
Nice lady.
Real maternal.
You have a lot of friends, Dwight?
Do you?
I saw a dog leash in the house,
but I don't see a dog around here.
You got a girlfriend?
Must be tough bringing a girl home,
with your old lady
breathing down your neck.
- No.
- No?
It's not hard?
I don't have a girlfriend.
Good-looking guy like
you? I don't believe you.
You trying to suck me off?
Put it this way, you
never had a girlfriend?
One time.
What happened?
She got pregnant.
My mom decided we were too young
to get married, told her parents.
She ratted you out.
What happened to the kid?
- She got a scrape.
- Scrape?
Abortion.
- How old were you?
- Twenty.
- How old was she?
- Twenty.
That doesn't seem too young
to me. Did you love her?
I don't know. What kind of
f*cking question is that?
I'm curious. Humor me.
Well, "I don't know," is the answer.
Do you think she loved you?
- You okay there, Dwight?
- What?
Looks like you've been going
at your arm pretty good.
You get in a scrap?
- No.
- Let me see your arm.
How'd you get those scratches?
I get drunk. I don't know.
I've never seen alcohol
give a guy scratches.
I bump into things, I guess.
Like what?
I got them from a piece of wood.
- It's fine, I'm fine.
- Let me look at that again, Dwight.
I don't have a dog.
- She's the one with the dog, not me.
- Your mom?
Dwight.
Why don't you tell us right
now how you got those scratches
so you don't lie to an FBI agent, okay?
I got them from a piece of wood.
- Is it just you and her in there?
- And Jesse.
Who's Jesse?
Some guy.
- Not a big smoker?
- I smoke.
Doesn't it get cramped in there,
the three of you all together?
- I guess.
- Is that new? Jesse staying with you?
A few weeks.
They just met or whatever.
- I don't know.
- That room's close by.
Is that kinda weird, hearing
your mom and her boyfriend?
- No.
- That would drive me crazy.
She sounds like she's hard to please.
- Does he do what she wants?
- She doesn't know what she wants.
No?
Who just meets a guy, then she
moves him right in, you know?
- Kind of f*cking weird.
- You ever talk to her about it?
What?
She made you get an
abortion with your girl.
Do you get a say in her romantic life?
I mean, he's living right next to you.
Do you get a say in hearing them f*ck?
I think that would piss me off,
if my mom told me what
to do all the time.
Get an abortion, get
her this, get her that.
Yeah. You let your mom
treat you like that?
- Don't you stick up for yourself?
- I stick up for myself.
- Didn't hear you doing that.
- Didn't hear him say anything.
I stand my ground. I'm no p*ssy.
I'm not saying you're a p*ssy.
Why do you stand there and take it?
- You don't know what you're talking about.
- You ever cuss her out?
- I give as good as I get.
- What does that mean?
- You ever been in a fight?
- Maybe.
- But not with Mom, right? Mom's different.
- You only have one mom.
Never laid a finger on her.
Didn't raise a hand, of course not.
Raise a hand to your mom,
it all goes to sh*t, right?
- You ever lost control?
- Uh-uh.
- Not with her, leastways.
- "Not with her"?
Makes sense, you need to let
off steam, show her who's boss.
You'd never hurt your old lady...
You'd never hurt her
because she loves you.
Florin residents can
rest easier tonight.
Sacramento Police have arrested
30-year-old Dwight Taylor
in connection with a recent
pair of sadistic assaults.
Police say Taylor, himself a
resident of the sleepy suburb,
b*at Rosemary Gonzales, 74, into a coma,
and stabbed to death Laura Conway, 64.
The victims lived
less than a mile apart.
In a disturbing twist,
after viciously attacking
his elderly victims...
All right, all right, all right.
Listen, everybody in this room
remembers when they were a little kid,
when they figured out
they wanted to be a cop.
I knew I wanted to be a
detective in the third grade
when I read A Study in Scarlet
by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Well, this guy right here?
- He's the modern-day Sherlock Holmes.
- Absolutely!
And that makes you Dr. Watson.
Thank you.
No sh*t.
Either that or you guys are psychic.
Hey, don't laugh. There's a
lot of psychics in California
- and they all want to be cops.
- Yeah!
All the cops want to be feds,
all the feds want to be...
I don't know what.
Oh! He's gonna make a speech.
Inform us, oh, wise one.
Speech!
- Thank you.
- Speech!
I just wanted to say thank you
for having this get-together.
And Roy, thank you for acknowledging
what my partner Bill and I are doing.
And for embracing that,
if we all work together,
we can venture into the blackest night
and shine a light on the darkness.
I'm talking about real darkness.
And thanks for the beer.
We were happy to help.
Congratulations, guys.
Good work.
If only you could shine
a light on the darkness,
you could illuminate my keys.
Very, very funny.
Dynamite!
Okay. You got us.
Good job.
Yeah, I wanted to hear how
you're doing. That's all.
His teacher?
I'm sorry to hear that.
No, I don't think we'll be back in time.
So...
Okay. I just wanted to hear your voice.
Give him a kiss from Dad.
Love you too.
I'm sorry, Ed,
do you mean that v*olence in the
movies drove you to k*ll those women?
No.
My point is, in reality, it
doesn't work the way you expect.
When you s*ab somebody,
they're supposed to fall dead.
They go, "Oh... "
- And they fall dead, right?
- Right.
In reality, when you s*ab
somebody, they lose blood pressure
and they leak to death very slowly.
So I was reluctant, I didn't enjoy it.
Did you get that on tape?
Yeah.
You know, it all really goes back
to my perceived inability to
communicate socially, sexually.
I was scared to death of failing
in male-female relationships,
even sitting down to
talk to a young lady.
I wanted to communicate.
Ironically enough, that's
why I began picking people up.
I pick a girl up
and I'm going a little
further each time.
It's a daring kind of a thing.
Like, first, there wasn't a g*n.
Then I'm driving along,
we go to a vulnerable place where
there aren't people watching,
but I say, "No, I can't."
So you picked up women
but didn't k*ll them?
But then, a g*n is in the car,
and this craving,
this awful raging, eating
feeling is inside me.
I would've loved to
have just r*ped them,
but not having any experience at all,
I could feel it consuming my
insides, this fantastic passion.
Fantastic passion?
- It's a good phrase, no?
- Then what happens?
You know, I'm thinking
of writing my own book.
I've been trying to get a
typewriter. Maybe help me with that?
I'm sure we could pull some strings.
Then it builds, the feeling?
At some point, you begin to...
- enjoy the thrill.
- Look...
when you slit a person's throat,
you need to cut it from ear to ear
in order to sever the
windpipe and the jugular
so that they bleed and
suffocate at the same time.
Otherwise, they'll just
be in a great deal of pain.
That's how I learnt
the term "ear to ear,"
literally, what that meant.
People think it's just an expression.
It's not, it's an instruction.
You don't want to. You have to.
So there's no pleasure, Ed?
Sure there is.
I just wanted the
exaltation over the party.
In other words, winning over death.
They were dead and I was
alive. That was the pleasure.
I was the hunter, they were my victims.
So how did you feel
after your first kills?
I liked Mary the best.
I was lukewarm on Anita.
What was wrong with her?
Oh, nothing in particular.
It was more that Mary was...
I was really quite struck by
her personality and her looks,
and there was just
almost a reverence there.
- Reverence?
- Sure.
Sometimes, afterward, I
visited there to be near her
because I loved her and wanted her.
At the m*rder site?
I've never been much to look at myself,
but I've always gone
after the pretty girls.
I bet you're the same.
Sure.
You probably can't imagine this,
but since I was locked
up from age 15 to 21
for the m*rder of my grandparents,
I was very much out of
touch with women my own age.
When I got back on the street, it
was like being on a strange planet.
I had been living with people
older than I was for so long,
I was like an old fogy.
That must have been jarring.
You know, when I
confessed to the police,
they drove me through California
and we stopped by a diner for some food.
Some attractive young
ladies walked by the car.
I vomited.
Right there and then, on the police
car, in front of all the cops.
Quite violently.
That was just how I reacted to women.
I had no other way.
Let me ask you something.
Ever talk with anyone about this?
About your inclinations?
Your mom... maybe?
Obviously, not the way
you're talking to us.
If I could get a word in edgewise,
everything would have been different.
From the moment I
woke up in the morning,
she was demeaning and belittling.
And she knew all of my buttons
because she put them there.
I was her toy all my life,
right up until the moment I cut
off her head with a hunting Kn*fe.
Ed...
why did you do what you did...
with her head?
Why does anyone?
You know, that night
I walked up to her bed.
She's laying there reading a paperback,
as many thousands of nights before.
She says, "Oh, I suppose
you're gonna want to wait up
all night and talk now."
Can you believe that?
"Wait up all night talking."
sh*t.
And I knew I was gonna k*ll her...
you know?
I was honest with myself
for the first time.
Because I'm not a lizard,
I'm not from under a rock,
I came out of her vag*na.
I came out of my mother.
Is it true that you put part of
her into the garbage disposal?
Her vocal cords.
Why?
Because I couldn't shut her up.
She wanted to destroy
me with words, literally.
So I shut her up for good.
And now, everyone knows it was
because of what she did to me,
because of the way she treated her son.
Pizza!
You guys.
Okay. So you get out of the car...
- I just walk into the apartment building.
- Anyone around?
So, I'm home,
walking up the stairs to our apartment
with a freshly severed head
draining about a pint of
blood into a duffel bag.
You just got it under
your arm? Just like that?
- Take another slice.
- Thank you.
Then comes this picture postcard,
groovy, happy young
couple on the stairs.
- They walk right past me.
- Your two worlds are colliding...
My murderous fantasy life and this.
Pretty girl. Pretty
name. Kim or something.
Going out on a date with her boyfriend.
And it could just as easily
be Kim's head in that bag.
- You're playing God.
- Exactly.
And I realized I've never been
on a date in my entire life, ever.
And I got in the door and I said to Mom,
"I've never been on a
date with a girl, Mom."
- And what did she say?
- "Thank God."
- Can you believe that?
- What a bitch.
That's when I started burying
the heads in the backyard.
- Sure.
- Right underneath Mom's bedroom window.
Their faces looking right up at
her window while she was at home.
Right under her nose, man.
I couldn't help myself.
What the f*ck?
I know it's silly, but Mom always
liked people to look up to her.
Whoa.
Ugh!
I still smell like Kemper.
Or maybe it's just CMF.
It did smell pretty
bad, like a locker room.
Gonna make me lose my appetite.
So...
you like your mom?
Sorry. Not funny.
Yeah. I liked my mom.
But she's not around anymore.
You like your wife?
- Yes, I do.
- That's good.
I've known her all my life. I'm
not sure what I'd do without her.
- How about that girlfriend?
- Yeah.
She's great. Smart.
I think she actually likes me.
Sounds like we got it made.
It feels good, doesn't it?
To fly home having got the bad
guy, just like in the movies.
Yeah. It feels good that
Dwight's off the street.
But Kemper has a way of tempering that.
He makes you sick to
your stomach, doesn't he?
Yes.
More than Dwight?
There's nothing behind Kemper's eyes.
It's like standing near a black hole.
- Right.
- And he thinks we're his friends.
Well, he thinks you're his friend.
Which makes you a
pretty great FBI agent.
I've been thinking about our
conversation with Dr. Carr.
You have?
We're good at this sh*t,
even if it turns my stomach.
If we're gonna take a
backseat to everything new,
everything interesting...
Yeah.
If she really thinks
the idea is that good,
that it has that much potential
to change people's lives...
- Yeah?
- ... maybe we should invite her down.
Just for a day, to strategize.
I think that's a fantastic idea.
At least we could compile
what we have so far
and create a plan so if we
want to talk to Shepard...
So we can be prepared.
It's a long sh*t.
He hates you already.
He's beginning to hate you, too.
Right.
So why half-ass it?
Dwight would have kept
doing it, just like Kemper,
until he finally made
his way to the source.
It's kind of prosaic that
it's always the mother.
It was the mother, but
in a very different way.
More...
love.
If you can even call it that.
Was she hot?
- Who?
- His mom?
Ugh...
Guys in my high school
thought my mom was hot
and it always really disgusted me.
But then she went through chemo
and nobody made jokes about her anymore
- and it kind of made me sad.
- I didn't know your mom had cancer.
That's why I'm always asking you
to grab my boobs when we're f*cking.
- Make you check for cancerous lumps.
- Oh, is that why?
I can't let these guys rub off on me.
- The way they view sex.
- And women.
Thanks for coming.
I needed to see you.
And now that I'm all clean...
If going down on me
while I'm filing my nails
is your idea of being kinky...
I'm kinky.
I'm very kinky.
I could impale you with this nail file.
Then I could be a part
of your case study.
You would be a very
compelling interviewee.
Hey, Kenneth, can I ask you something?
Oh, sure. What's on your mind?
I've, uh, done a bit of thinking about
some of the things that we're teaching.
In particular, the list
of deviant terminology.
The cuss words?
Right. Well, I was thinking more the...
- descriptors of the acts.
- Uh...
You know, fellatio, cunnilingus...
Okay, what exactly is the issue?
Well, that's just it,
Ken. I don't have an issue.
I really don't know
that they are deviant.
a**l violation?
Well, no, not that one.
- Have you talked to Bill about this?
- Oh, sure.
Bill agrees with me.
And you think we should
alter the curriculum?
Just... take a look at the list.
- Think about it, okay?
- Mm-hmm. Hmm.
- Fuckhead?
- You can keep that.
Fuckbag?
That, too.
And we're keeping "g*ng bang"?
What's right is right.
Klismaphilia?
Klisma... what?
Enemas. Either giving or having.
That can stay.
And we're losing "p*ssy," "dildo,"
"fellatio," "cunnilingus."
Are you sure about this?
Yes.
Thank you, Marge.
It's for the best.
All right.
So, you and Dr. Carr go back?
I consulted her on a
few cases here and there.
We go back a few years. Why do you ask?
Just curious.
No.
- No?
- You know what I mean.
- I didn't mean to imply...
- I enjoy being married, thank you.
I didn't mean...
Just... Wendy has something.
Not sexual.
Maybe a little sexual.
But her ideas and her energy,
she... I sound like an idiot.
You sound like you
have a crush on teacher.
It's just someone like her embracing
this project says something.
- Don't you think?
- I get it.
Old Man Tench jumps onboard, so what?
Grumpy old Shepard, who cares?
- But the foxy professor...
- That's not fair.
That's her.
- Dr. Carr.
- Agent Ford.
- Welcome to Quantico.
- Thank you.
How was your trip?
It was a little dull to be honest.
I was grading papers, but...
We can stop at the cafeteria
for a coffee if you like.
No, I'm fine. I had some this morning.
We're just this way.
So what are you teaching?
Um, I'm teaching a class
on the intersection
of sociopathy and fame.
People like, um... Andy
Warhol, Jim Morrison.
Their celebrity becomes the only
thing they need to sustain their ego.
- Nixon was a sociopath.
- Very similar.
How do you get to be
president of the United States
if you're a sociopath?
The question is, how do you get to
be president of the United States
if you're not?
That's why this work is so vital.
It goes so much further than the FBI.
- All the way to the White House.
- Perhaps, yeah.