03x04 - The Unseen

[bunniefuu]

We are Blood Death and this is dedicated to the All-Father.

Resurrecting a god isn't as easy as you'd think.

What about this?

The gris-gris Samedi gave me.

Would this work on him?

Blood... infused with love.

Two drops.

The reality that I am acknowledging is that this place sucks donkey d*ck.

Judge Trakes appointed me Miss Wells' conservator.

Hello, darling.

Your wife's capacity...

-Oh!

...may be diminished, but her portfolio is robust.

-Distract.

Misdirect.

Make them give a f*ck about what we say is important.

Come find me, Shadow Moon.

The Founders believed in a creator who endowed every individual with equality and freedom.

America was conceived around that truth and the Declaration was an oath to that creator.

A solemn promise that this new government would ensure the divine rights of its citizens.

Life, liberty, and a sh*t at happiness.

But the new government was overrun with debt.

Furious debate roiled the Continental Congress: God-given rights versus materialism.

Commerce carried the day and the young country was on its way to becoming the richest corporation in history.

In the process, America betrayed its oath to the creator.

Economic growth was spurred by the whip and remained in the hands of the sl*ve masters and their investors.

The wealth generated by King Cotton was everywhere.

The nation now prayed at the altar of commerce.

But the spirit did not abandon those who had been enslaved, who brought their African gods, the Orishas, with them to the New World.

I call upon the Orishas, of the land of the ancestors.

Show the people that I is not me!

I is we!

And we is power.

You are my beloved.

I am Oshun.

I will uphold you in your courage to carry life forward.

I am Yemoja, the water.

When the burden is too great, you rest in my arms.

I am Aye, the earth beneath you.

You bleed upon me and I bleed upon you.

The time will come when we rise together as one.

Justice does not sleep.

Righteousness comes from the hand of the divine.

The power of the master diminishes.

Those of us who have been enslaved are the sole force raised from the dust.

May the optimism of tomorrow be your foundation for today and I is we, and we is power, and we are powerless if we just become nothing but you and they.

May peace be in your hearts and may Orishas lead your way.

With the blessing of the One Love...

We shall overcome.

We shall overcome!

We shall overcome!

What'd you do to her?

Hm?

I said, what the f*ck did you do to her?

Nothing.

I am here because of what that bitch did to me!

-I don't believe you.

-There's a phone-- No, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!

What the hell is wrong with you?

I told you: Bilquis f*cked me up.

I need her to unfuck whatever it is that she did to me.

No, no, wait, stop.

Stop, stop, stop, stop!

Stop!

Just stop it!

I think I might have figured out what went down here.

So talk.

Fast.

The last person that Bilquis hooked up with here was...

Bill Sanders.

The Bill Sanders.

If you are going to lie, make it believable.

I'm telling you.

He was here.

Billionaire philanthropist, tech guru, and founder of Levitech Computing Systems was meeting Bilquis here on the low.

But homegirl has a way of making people... disappear, from time to time.

He never left, which is why...

...his phone is still here.

Still doesn't explain where Bilquis is.

You asked me what happened.

I am enlightening you.

Gimme the phone.

What?

No, no, no, no, no, no.

I am coming with you.

I don't think so.

Give me the f*cking phone.

I told you, I need Bilquis.

You f*cking dipshit!

Whatever she did to you, you probably deserved it.

I'll find her on my own.

You have 17 unheard messages.

First message...

Hi, Dad.

Hope you're getting my messages.

Is everything okay?

Call me.

Please.

Alexandra Sanders.

Bill Sanders' eldest daughter.

Assistant professor at Columbia according to Sanders' contacts.

Now, she has left 10 voicemails, each one more desperate than the last.

If Sanders had a security detail, so do the heirs who sprang from his loins.

Yeah.

We lean on one of his daughter's body men, they'll give us Bilquis.

Gold star for Nancy Drew.

That's for lynching me, peckerwood.

I already apologized for that.

Apology not accepted.

Not now.

Not ever.

I am not alone.

I choose to believe that.

I have to believe that.

I am not alone.

I am not alone.

I choose to believe that.

I have to believe that.

I am not alone.

Sanders was a regular.

Been seeing her once a week for over a year now.

The question is, who's she working for?

Your great-great-grandmother?

Oh yeah, she was a personage.

She was the first black woman lawyer in Louisiana.

Mm-hmm.

There's lots to learn here.

Hey, Damon.

Where you at?

Damon?

Come on over here before I kick your poo butt.

Papa!

Papa!

Papa!

Papa!

Pst.

I don't suppose you've got a smoke on you, do ya?

Oh, I wish.

Three-pack-a-day girl over here.

When I got throat cancer, my doctor said I had -to change my lifestyle.

-Hm...

So I switched to menthol.

Hm!

Nice.

Um, so, once we've jumped through all of the hoops, do you know when the f*ck we finally get outta here?

One of death's great mysteries.

I wouldn't spend a whole lotta time trying to figure it out if I were you.

Or you'll end up like that sorry son-of-a-bitch.

This guy?

I d*ed summer of '93.

He was like that then.

Nothing's changed since.

Yikes.

Attention.

Those with red cards, please make your way to the designated area...

Oop, oop!

No.

Red card holders only.

You haven't by any chance seen a guy in here: super tall, red hair, big mouth, bad attitude, Irish-ish?

I don't believe so.

But I'm not much of a people watcher.

Oh, you would remember this guy if you saw him, trust me.

He's pretty hard to miss.

So, you're into the bad boys, are you?

Oh no, ew.

No, that's not what it was like at all.

Oh, no.

You were just talking like...

...maybe he's someone special.

Oh!

No, no, no!

Uh...

Actually, he...

is the guy who k*lled me.

Yup.

Attention.

Those with red cards, please make your way to the designated area at this time.

This Hutchinson pinhead thinks he can get one over on me.

Ha.

I've forgotten more about long cons than he'll ever know.

Hacked into his business accounts.

Conservator, my ass.

He's a vampire.

Preying on the elderly and infirm.

Never mind defaming the Eleusinian mysteries.

-Okay.

Hello, Cayman Islands.

Bingo.

Man, this guy's got it all figured out.

Offshore accounts, money being siphoned from the client trusts into...

Firewall won't let me see where.

If you want proof of the stringing-him-up-by-the-balls variety, I'm gonna need access to his computer, like the actual hard drive.

A crafty pinhead, he is.

Fine.

A home office B-and-E it is then.

Perhaps a father and son two-hander.

Ha-ha.

Game on.

Now, where's that waitress?

I am f*cking starving!

All right.

There's the daughter's driver.

And the follow car.

See?

Aren't you glad you brought me along?

It's alright, buddy.

Little detour.

Well, Gilbert, the excitement appears to be concluded and this poor man's remains are about to be given to the furnace, so let's clean it up real good in here.

Poor fella.

That is no way for a soul to be leaving this world.

Someone oughta be holding a high thought for that child of God.

Knock yourself out, Gilbert.

Great.

Great!

A brick!

And no bars.

Whatever you're looking for, you won't find it in that.

We like our phones empty and dumb.

Like you two idiots.

Where is she?

Burner phones.

Disposable.

Untraceable.

I know wireless isn't your jam, but...

it'll keep us under the radar.

We'll be so off the grid not even the assholes at the NSA will be able to track us, and they track everybody, just 'cause.

I don't think phone numbers actually have that many digits.

21, to be exact.

Three is a very important number in Norse mythology, signifying royalty.

Seven is of equal stature, representing completeness.

Do the math.

Three times seven is...

Got it.

Hello?

It's for you.

That's a secure line.

Well, apparently not, dickhead.

Now, shut the f*ck up.

Hello?

Shadow?

Yeah.

Your father would like a word.

Hello, my boy.

Okay, I am kind of in the middle of something.

I need you for a job up here in Massachusetts.

Should take about three hours to drive up?

Not happening.

Okay...

we'll talk after I find Bilquis.

No luck?

Looks like we'll have to find another way to rescue my bride.

There's no reason for this to turn adversarial.

So, just give us the location of where she's being held, you get to go about your business.

Who are you guys?

Okay, here is the deal, shithead.

You are going to tell us what we need to know, or we are going to peel your f*cking skin off with f*cking kerosene.

You dig?

Kerosene?

Seriously?

I'm gonna need you to dial it back to about a two.

I'll handle this.

You really have no idea who you're dealing with.

You ever hear of the alien agenda?

No?

'Cause you are so far out of your league, you don't even know what game you're playing.

You need to start talkin' or you're gonna start to see some sh*t that you really can't unsee.

What's that stuff spraying out of his head?

You know what?

Give him a taste.

Ever been probed, Mark?

You know, grabbed up by the Greys, Tall Whites, you never remember a thing, but...

...his kind.

Yeah, that sh*t you never forget...

...no matter how hard you try.

We'll be starting with the reproductive system.

No, no, no!

Wait, wait, wait, wait!

She's in Hoboken!

She's being held, um...

...in a building behind the, uh, behind the lumber supply!

Let's go.

We're behind schedule on the initial components for SHARD.

-Why?

-It's not our fault.

We're ready to alpha test baseline algorithms.

Is that the sound of you covering your anus?

There's a problem with our software suppliers, Levitech.

What kind of problem?

Total chaos in the boardroom.

They're doing their best to keep it under wraps, but we did some digging and William Sanders is MIA.

Investors catch wind, the Dow craters.

How exactly does one of the most powerful men on the planet go missing?

In a Manhattan call-girl's apartment, apparently.

As to how, I wouldn't want to speculate.

-As far as contingency-- -Get the f*ck out.

Okay.

Show me Levitech Server Farm Number 37.

Hoboken, New Jersey.

Oh, for f*ck's sake.

I should've known.

Crazy f*cking bitch.

Somebody's handsome.

Peaceful rest.

Dear child...

could you please hum more quietly?

Do you, do you know what song this is?

It's like...

Anybody?

Does anybody know what this song is?

Please?

It's like: Somebody please tell me what this f*cking song is.

It's Schwieger's Requiem of Balder.

-What are you doing here?

-Coffee.

No one in the back ever makes a fresh pot.

Can you please tell me what this song is that was playing in the background all the time when I was a kid in the movie thing?

It must mean something.

-Like what?

-I don't know.

-You're the Purgatory guy.

-Guide.

-I'm the Purgatory guide.

-Okay, good.

If you weren't such a know-it-all, and maybe you'd hung around a little while longer, you might've found out more.

-Like what?

-You have a powerful destiny.

Whatever the f*ck that means.

It means you attract powerful enemies.

Well, yeah.

I mean, I was k*lled by a w*r god.

It's a pretty f*cking powerful enemy.

-Okay.

-Okay, well, what does it have to do with the song?

I have no idea.

Well, is it like, uh, his theme song or something?

Like a w*r god fight song?

Did anybody else see that?

Hi.

Hi.

There was a kink in the...

...hose.

And then...

Where did you...

Where did you come from?

Um, Purgatory?

Uh...

-You must be cold.

-Yeah.

Yeah.

sh*t.

I'm alive.

Yes, ma'am.

I believe you are.

-Is this mine?

-No.

Or maybe.

I can't really tell.

I...

think it's from the body that was here.

Oh.

Tall guy?

Red hair?

-Yeah.

-Oh, that's Sweeney.

Um, do you happen to know where he went?

Took him away.

Little while ago.

What was left of him anyway.

They're cremating the remains.

Okay, so he's dead.

Like, actually dead.

Completely dead.

And it's my fault.

Huh.

No, no, no.

I didn't k*ll him.

Heh.

Just, um...

Just couldn't bring him back to life, which I should've been able to do.

But I didn't.

It's a long story.

Well, I wouldn't be too hard on yourself.

Like the book says, there's a time to be born and there's a time to die.

Right.

But just because somebody wrote it in a book -doesn't mean it's true.

-Fair enough.

I guess I'm just someone who's inclined to believe that wherever he is, that's where he's supposed to be.

Watch it, you f*cking moron.

-I'm a f*cking moron?

-f*ck yeah, you are.

This is a home invasion with no specific intention of terrorizing the inhabitants, although I wouldn't mind if the bloodless milksop of a husband gets dirtied up a little, huh?

He just needs to see his world crumble and I just...

need his computer.

-What the f*ck is wrong with you?

-This.

You listening?

Yeah.

-Mm?

-Yeah.

You got it.

You'll have it in 24 hours.

-Good.

-But brother, I need a favor.

Well, say it.

Every time that sh*t-stain Johan comes in here, he causes a problem.

I want that f*cking ape out of here or he bleeds.

I'll handle it.

So, what's his story?

Legend.

He rode a '61 Flathead up Whiteface Mountain in the blizzard of '78.

100-mile-an-hour winds, sheet ice three feet thick.

Come on, bring it!

Bring it!

Bring it!

No one else since has even come close.

Auditioning new bandmates, Johan?

They say it ain't possible.

With Wednesday, rules just don't apply.

Gentlemen!

Come on, come on!

This is all a... a big misunderstanding, isn't it, Johan?

You didn't mean any harm, did you?

-No.

-No, he means no harm.

Anyway, as far as I know, isn't it true that the party doesn't start unless a little blood has been spilled, huh?

That's better.

Come on.

Come on, Johan!

Innkeeper, drinks all around, huh?

Oh, yeah!

Try not to k*ll the help, my boy.

Huh?

Their adulation sustains us.

I sometimes forget the rules, okay?

I understand.

You're still grieving your bandmates.

They were my... brothers, my family.

And I will find whoever f*cking k*lled them, and I will skin them alive.

Did you k*ll them?

No, I...

Why would you ask me that?

No!

Oh, my gentle, sweet, blood-drinking fire-bear.

The facts are these: you frequently do go ape-sh*t, and in such states, do not remember what fell deeds you do.

It could've been an accident.

Anyone could k*ll that band.

-Many want to.

But, remember, huh?

We need...

all the disciples that your music can gather.

So, you must form a new band.

I did not k*ll them!

Listen to me.

Go the f*ck home.

Sleep it off.

And then, do what I f*cking tell you.

Okay?

Yes, All-Father.

I cry to my god, but his throne is empty!

To the god in whose name we stand tall!

Hail Odin!

Familiar faces.

I have a close strategic partnership with Levitech, and I agreed that you could accept worship from Mr.

Sanders with the provision that you did not facilitate his sacrifice.

What transpires between my worshippers and I is none of your concern.

Let's... turn a page on the past, then.

You and me.

New god...

to old goddess.

If you fully commit to the new gods, your example will persuade many in the old alliance to reject this w*r looming over us all!

Wednesday can't go into battle by himself.

It's always the same speech with you.

I'm sorry.

Our technology will...

revolutionize man's relationship with the divine.

New gods and old gods will have a direct interface with the minds of our worshippers.

I don't believe you.

You're not getting out of here.

Unless Bill Sanders miraculously appears and clears up this misunderstanding.

We both know that is not going to happen.

I am trying to save your life.

I'm not alone.

I...

I have love.

Haven't you come to the end?

I have love.

I have love.

I hope it's not too painful.

Next steps?

If she still refuses to give up Sanders' whereabouts, we can't risk her becoming an intelligence asset to someone else.

Pressed Rat and Warthog have closed down their shop.

They didn't want to, 'twas all they had got.

Selling atonal apples, amplified heat, and Pressed Rat's collection of dog legs and feet.

-Hey!

-Stop!

Get out of the way, assh*le!

Disgusting dirty old man!

Nice cock, assh*le!

Daddy's calling.

- Hello?

-Oh, Shadow, thank God.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Y-you all right?

I'm fine, but some whack-job berserker named Johan blew up the biker bar while your dad was inside.

-Is he...

-Sadly, they left...

-He's fine.

-...telling no one good-bye.

He's not fine.

He's okay physically, but his head is a mess.

...Warthog a striped tie.

We're checking him into a hospital now.

It's like a... a special hospital.

A nuthouse.

It's about f*cking time, though, really, right?

-This is serious!

All right, all right, all right...

-Are you okay?

-More or less, but...

Okay, well, listen, listen.

I, um...

I-I've got a situation on my hands here, but...

I know you and your dad have beef, but I've never seen him like this.

You need to come.

-Please.

-Yo!

t*nk's full.

Look, um, he's safe right now, yeah?

Yeah, I guess, once they get him into a straitjacket or something.

Do whatever you can.

Make sure he's safe.

-We'll talk tomorrow.

-I really think you should...

I-I gotta go.

Okay?

Uh, we'll talk as soon as I can.

Bye.

A monkey shat in my pants.

Everything's gonna be okay.

You are exquisite.

A jewel.

Your chocolate skin.

-Your hypnotic gaze.

-Yes.

Tell me more.

Mysterious.

Exotic.

You tempt me, you devour me.

You wicked beauty.

I have to have you, to be inside you.

-Be inside you.

- Worship me!

You were made for me, my goddess.

You were made for me.

Be silent!

I am not what you say.

I was not made for you.

I was before Shiva, I was before Aphrodite, before the word.

I am not alone!

I knew and was known.

I was...

My name was...

My name was...

Who are you?

I know you as you know me.

I...

is we.

Oshun.

Look at yourself.

See your sweet, true self.

See the truth in who you are.

And who you have always been.

I am not alone.

You are my beloved.

I will uphold you in your courage as you carry life forward.

You are not who they say you are.

You are whoever you want to be.

I am she who has always been.

I think we broke her.

Oops.

Oh, my God.

Hmm.

Tasting.

What a concept.

You know, this ain't exactly according to regulations.

So, this is him?

Yes, ma'am.

All of him somehow fits in here.

You know, I hope you don't find me too forward, but, um, meeting someone like you kinda gives a man faith.

In what, I...

can't exactly say.

Yeah, me neither.

You know, I think it comes down to just believing in somethin' we can't see 'cause we know it's there.

That's what keeps us going.

Maybe so.

Well, thank you.

I'm-I'm gonna, I'm gonna get going.

Where to, if you don't mind me asking?

I'm not exactly sure yet but, um...

I've gotta go see a man about a song.

-Well, good luck.

-You too.

Señorita.

He say this is where we turn.

You go more norte, si?

Uh, si.

Norte,I think.

Okay.

Señorita, tengo cuidado.

You too.

Thanks.

Hey!

Hey!

You're not going north by any chance, are you?

Sure as hell am.

-Where you headed?

-Cairo, Illinois?

Hop in.