American Horror Story (2011–…): Season 1, Episode 8 - Rubber Man - full transcript

The man in the rubber suit is revealed.

♪ ♪

(sobbing softly)

No. No.

This is wrong.

It's all wrong.

Who are you?

What did you do to my house,
my belongings?

I'm terribly confused.

These things aren't mine.

These furnishing, the fabrics--
they're cheap.


They've picked the flesh
off my beautiful home

and left the skeleton, the bare bones.

How can I comfort you?

My baby.

Where's my baby?

Is that what you want, a baby?


I just want my baby.

(door creaks)



I thought I told you to
throw that thing away.

Oh, you're not talking?

You really want to go
for round two, huh?


I love you.

I love you, too.

I'm not crazy. She was here.

She was here looking at everything,

going on about

butterfly wings
and-and the Tiffany glass,

as if she built the house herself.

She must've had a granddaughter.

Marcy, you were on

the same murder tour I was on.

He said she killed herself
and her only child was dead.

They do say we all have
a doppelganger, Mrs. Harmon.

It feels as if someone
is trying to make me feel

like I'm crazy.

Oh, Lord.

Moira, how about a calming
cup of tea for Mrs. Harmon?

Don't patronize me, Marcy.

In fact, there is someone
who wants my husband,

who wants my life.

You know, cousin Helen went paranoid

when she was pregnant with her second.

She imagined the stuffed
animals in the nursery dancing

to some dreadful African drumbeat.

She thought they were
enacting voodoo on her.

We got her hormones straightened out,

and she was right back on
the happy track in no time.

There are things in this world

that can't be explained
by the rational mind.

I'd love to spend the day
debating the supernatural,

but I've got to pop by
Mr. Escandarian's office.

He's not answering my calls.

And if we don't open escrow,
you're going to have

a bigger problem than
your little ghost story.


Or do we think he's a ghost, too?


I for one believe in things unseen.

Who knows, Mrs. Harmon?

We're all just lost souls, aren't we?

Maybe I am going crazy.

I feel like I'm going crazy.

I feel like I'm going to break
into a million pieces.

He's cheating.
I can tell.


He's weird.
He's gotten weird.

Weird how?


About money, about the renovations,

weird about having a baby.

I'm not sure he even
wants one anymore.

Every time I bring up the subject of

a color scheme for the nursery,
he changes the subject.

I don't know why you insist on

torturing him with your swatches.

The point is, I go out of my way
to make him feel included,

but he's distant, distracted.

He's even been sleepwalking.

Okay, Chad.

None of this is exactly
evidence of infidelity.


But what I found on his computer is.

He usually logs off;
this time he didn't.

He's been carrying on a truly
vile online relationship

with some S&M freak who
calls himself "JungleJim4322."

I can't even believe
he types those words,

let alone does those things.

It's completely humiliating.

Look, Pat's obviously
got some interests

that he doesn't feel
free sharing with you.

Now, if you don't want

to end up sharing him,

then you need to make
a preemptive strike.

What do you mean?

I mean you have to fight.

Pat's a great guy, Chad,

worth fighting for.

And if that means
that you have to fight

with a cat-o'-nine-tails

and some titty clamps,

well, then, brother,
you better gear up.

Mike's Spikes makes this
stainless steel ball stretcher.

Spikes are fully adjustable.

The Ultimate Asslock-- also
known as the Apple of Anguish.

Is, uh, any of this working for you?

I don't, I don't like pain, so...


Maybe we start with a simple

pair of handcuffs.

I'm sorry.

Um, my boyfriend has been
in these chat rooms.

That's always how it starts.

Is he dominant

or submissive?

I don't know

I'm usually the one
who calls the shots.

Then maybe he wants to be the dom

for a change.


Well, that's interesting.

I never thought of that.

Every relationship's
a power play, with or without

the props.

What about a muzzle?

He's forever telling
me I talk too much.

The muzzle's good.

But if you're feeling brave,

I got just the thing.

The hood's fully detachable,

and the harness has

anchor points for bondage.

Forgive me, um,
I don't get any of this.

At all.

The point of the suit is to
dehumanize the submissive,

turn him into

a rubber sex t.

Why don't you try it on?

Oh, no, no.

I-I don't think I have
the body for that.

You wouldn't believe
how slimming it is.

Especially in black.

Get the suit.

If it doesn't work out,

you can always wear it for Halloween.

I do love Halloween.

And it is right around the corner.


Decided to go as a sausage
for Halloween this year?

Dude, I'm in the middle of this.

I'm serious.

I hate how that feels against my skin.

Take it off,
so we can watch Rachel Zoe

without me worrying
about you passing out.

Why are you being such an asshole?

This turns you on.

I know it does.

Seriously, Chad, depressing sex
is even more depressing

when you try so hard.

I don't know.

Stop lying!

The lying is worse!

First my phone, now my e-mail?

Have you ever met up with him?

Because if you brought disease
into this house,

I swear to God...
No, never!

And jerking off with
a guy online isn't cheating.

I want you to get out. Go!

Stay at some Motel 6;
it's all you can afford.

You know what, I changed my mind.

Leave the suit on.

It's appropriate considering how
much of a little bitch you are.

I wanted to have a baby with you!

Why are you doing this to me?!

The house, decorating--
I hate it!

It's no wonder I don't want
to stick my dick in you anymore!


You know what?

Go find JungleJim.

See if he'll redo
every bathroom in this house

to your exact,
nouveau riche specifications.

What are you going to do
when we lose it?

What are you going to
hold over my head

when the bank comes and takes
this place away from us?

You don't think I read our bills?

Our statements?

Where are you going?


And for the record,
I like leather, not latex.



Good God, woman, you've got
to knock this shit off.

I beg your pardon.

The crying.

You got to get it under control.

You're making me nuts.

I'm very confused.

What are you doing in my house?

I am stuck here like the others.

Like you.

We died in here,

and for whatever reason,
we can't leave.

What are you implying?

That... that you're dead?

I'm not implying it;
I'm saying it.

Yeah, dead.

Dead as disco.

I... I don't understand.


Of course you don't, honey.

But you're not the only one.

There are other souls trapped in here.

Innocent, beautiful souls,

who never knew malice or anger.

It's not fair that they're
trapped in a place like this.

It's heartbreaking.

Then there are others who
are just in on the game.

They're bitches.

I don't like you.

I don't like your type.

You're cheap and horrible
and not half the lady Madame is.

Why you insist on hurting
her is only a reflection

of your low character
and lack of breeding.

Oh, don't act all high
and mighty with me, you old bat.

I saw you feed her raw brains.

That was for her benefit--

to ensure the health
of her unborn babies.

Oops. Guess you'll have
to clean that up, huh?

We linger here with the living.

No rest for them, no rest for us.

It's this place.

It has a hold on us.

But that's not all.

There's a power in it.

A power we can use.

We can make ourselves unknown.

And when we really need it,
we can make ourselves known.

And I have such a need.

Sometimes I vibrate
with such rage, it terrifies me.

I act out.

You know, my wife Constance
has quite the temper.

If she catches us, we...

Yeah, but she never does.

(fierce grunting)


If we're supposed to fix
our issues, we never can.

Hey. You want anything
from the kitchen?

It doesn't stick.

What you're saying is madness.

I'm not dead.

Then how do you explain
this, sweetheart?


What is that?

Looks to me like an exit wound.

My guess is you ate a bullet.

And by the looks of those
clothes, it was a long time ago.

Why would I do such a thing?

Was it because of my baby?

Where's my baby?

Did you lose your baby?



I lost mine, too.

It was never born.

It's in the backyard
with the rest of me.

It's not fair.
No, it's not.

How come she gets to have two
and we don't get to have any?

The bitch that stole your house.


She already has a daughter.

And what do we have?


She's having twins, you know?

We should take those babies.

One for you, one for me.

We could do that?

We'll have to.

After all,
they've got to have mothers.

You can't raise a baby
in the loony bin.

You're just tired.


(door creaking open)



(buzzing, popping)


(Hayden laughing)


Who did that?

(Hayden laughs)

(floorboards creaking)


♪ ♪

(neck snaps)

What the hell did you do?

(grunting and groaning)


He's dead.

This is wrong.

It's all wrong.

Who are you?

What did you do to my house?
My belongings?

I know you've suffered a long time.

I'm here to help you.

I need my baby.
Where's my baby?

They were fighting and
decided not to make one.

But maybe now a new
family will move in

and they can give you what you want.


A baby.

I just... I want my baby.

You want to play?

Come out.

I won't hurt you.

Who are you talking to?

No one.

Come upstairs.

There's something we need to discuss.

A discussion? Oh, shit.

BEN: I just got off the phone
with Mrs. Levinson.

Violet, you haven't been
in school in two weeks.

What is going on?

I don't like it.

It's boring, and they bully me.

What does that mean?

That is so you.

Some kids say they're bullied

and their parents
just pull them right out.

You ask me to define bullying.

Have you told your mom about this?

How is it that a big, fancy shrink

hasn't noticed that his wife
has totally lost her shit?

Violet, look at me.

Look at me.

What's going on with her?

Well, when she's not in bed

or worrying about
absolutely everything,

she's eating raw brains.

Maybe she thinks the twins
are stealing hers,

'cause that's kind of how it seems.

Well, it sounds like, um,

your mom is depressed

and you're feeling
very alone and isolated.

This isn't about me.

I'm saying Mom's crazy
and it's your fault.

You drove her crazy.

You're a cheater.

Young girls, old ladies
with feather dusters.

You're so weird and pathetic,

I'm surprised
you haven't gone after me.

I'm still your father.
Do not talk to me like that.

I don't have anything more
to say anyway.

Session's over.


(teakettle whistling)

Madame, are you all right?

It's my own fault.


I read labels on everything,

and then, when it really counted,

I just... I just followed
directions blindly.

My doctor gave me a
prescription last week

for a drug for nausea, and...

I just checked it
on the Internet, and it says

that it can cause fever
and seizures and, um...

vision changes.

That's the only explanation.

For what, Madame?

For all the crazy stuff
that's been happening.

And my doctor never even told
me about the side effects.

Doctors are charlatans.

My mind is playing tricks
on me, Moira.

I'm literally seeing things.

There, there, Madame.

You just need a good cry.

Sometimes it's the best
possible thing.

And everybody thinks I'm crazy.

I know Ben does.
I know it.

And I've been too embarrassed
to call Luke.

That's what men do.

They make you think you're crazy

so they can have their fun.

Haven't you read The Yellow Wallpaper

by Charlotte Perkins Gilman?


Her husband, a doctor,

locks her away in the upstairs bedroom

to recuperate

from a slight hysterical tendency.

Staring at the yellow wallpaper
day after day...

she begins to hallucinate
that there are women

trapped in the pattern.


she scrapes off the wallpaper
to set the women free.

When her husband finally
unlocks the door,

he finds her circling the room,
touching the wallpaper,

whispering, "I finally
got out of here."

Since the beginning of time,

men find excuses to lock women away.

They make up diseases,

like hysteria.

Do you know where
that word comes from?


The Greek word for uterus.

In the second century,

they thought it was caused
by sexual deprivation.

And the only possible cure
was hysterical paroxysm.



would masturbate women
in their office,

and call it medicine.

I had no idea.

It was a hundred years ago,
but we're no better off today.

Men are still inventing ways
to drive women over the edge.

Look at you and
Mr. Harmon--

cheating on you and leaving you here,

pregnant with twins, alone,

to care for your
truant teenage daughter.

Any woman would lose her mind.

May I speak freely,
Mrs. Harmon?


You are not crazy.

And the strange things
you are experiencing,

I'm afraid it's not the drugs.

I've never said this
to any of my employers

for fear of losing their trust
or my job--

but this house is possessed.

Things break, disappear.

Doors open for no reason.

There are spirits here.

Malevolent spirits.

Mrs. Harmon,
please hear me.

You need to get out
while you still can.

I fear for you if you don't.


Violet, wake up.

We're leaving this house tonight.

We're going to Aunt Jo's.

We're not spending another
night here. Now!

We don't have to be prisoners
to this house anymore.

Excuse me, ma'am.
Oh, my God...

I'm hurt, and I need some help.

I know you bitches.

Go, Vi! Go!


I can't believe
you were trying to take

my daughter out of state.

I won't let you do it, Vivien.

I will not allow you
to separate Violet from me,

or those babies.

You're missing the point, Ben.

The people who tried to murder

your wife and your daughter

were here last night.

The police say there was
no evidence of anyone

in that car!
I know what the police said!

They don't even think
they're in California!

There was a report of
a similar home invasion

in Wisconsin!
They were six inches from my face, Ben!

You've never fully dealt with this.

It makes sense that,
in times of stress,

you would feel this way, Vivien.

I swear to Christ, if you're about

to diagnose me with
post-traumatic shock syndrome,

I am gonna bash your goddamn face in!


Let's discuss the brain eating.

Let's talk about the dangers
of ingesting raw organs.

Mad cow disease, Vivien.

Have you ever heard of that?

If you don't believe me,
go talk to your daughter.

Violet was there, too.

Did it hurt?

The first time usually does.


It was intense.

For me, too.

You really are here...
aren't you?

Of course.

I'll always be here,
if that's what you want.

They'll always be here,
too, won't they?

The-- whatever-- others.

They can't hurt us, Violet.

Those freaks who tried
to kill me and my mom.

They're dead, aren't they?

We saw them outside last night.

My mom's totally freaked out.

She thinks they're back to
finish what they started.

I mean, she called the
police and my dad rushed over.

They're just trying to scare you.

That's all they can do now.
I wish I could tell my mom that.

You can't. You can't.

You can't, Violet.

If you tell anyone what we know,

they'll say you're crazy.

They'll want to lock you up.

They'll try to
take you away from here.

We never see each other again.

BEN: Violet!
Can you come downstairs?

VIVIEN: You know what?

You can't force us
to stay in California.

You can't, 'cause I am
getting out of this house.

I am booking us tickets to Florida.

I'll go to the courts, if I have to.

You're mentally unstable, Vivien.

You're seeing things.

I'm seeing things.

You mean, the way you were seeing

your little
ten-year-old mistress?

You're being stupid.

The only stupid thing that I did

was not changing the alarm code

after I kicked your ass out of here.

Did you give it to her?

Is that how she's
been getting in here?

Vivien, you're coming unhinged.

You never stopped seeing her.

You went to Boston to see her,

and one of your patients attacked us.

Jesus, Ben!

What the hell are you saying?

Did you plan this whole thing
with your little whore?

Did you plan to gaslight me?
Oh, my God...

To get rid of me, so she could
come in and take my place?

This is crazy talk, Vivien.

What is this?

Where did you get that?

It was put somewhere
so that I would see it.

Did you tell her about
our kinky night?

You put it on for her?

Put it on?!

I threw this out months ago.

What's going on?


honey, would you please just

tell your dad about last night?

Go on, honey.

It's okay.

I saw Mom really upset.

Just tell him what you saw;

what you told the police.

I told them what I thought
you wanted me to tell them.

I didn't see anything.


I'm sorry, Mom.

I don't know what you saw.

You were so upset, so I was upset.

I still am.

(sighs heavily)

Okay, honey, you can go.

BEN: I'm staying
here tonight.

Sleeping in my office.

I don't need your protection.

It's not to protect you.

My daughter lives here, too.

Aw, look at Little Lord Fauntleroy,

writing sorrowful sonnets in your head

to that little nightingale bitch.

"Adieu, nightingale.

Thy plaintive anthem fades."

That's Keats.

Who gives a shit?
You're like a girl,

sulking down here in the basement,

instead of doing something

about what's really bothering you.

I'm tired of hurting people.

Do you want her to go away?

'Cause Vivien booked their tickets.

I heard her.

You know what you have to do.

Yeah, I do.

I just have to prepare myself.

It's not fun.

You want to fool around

while you work your way up to it?

Come on...

I'm not into it.

What is it about being dead
that makes me so horny?

Quit it.

I'm in love.

You better locate your balls
before you go in there!

That bitch is tough!

What on earth could be so urgent

that I had to leave my
open house in Studio City

and drive all the way over the hill?

Well, firstly,
I wanted to let you know

that Violet and I will be
leaving here tomorrow

to go stay at my sister's for awhile.

You couldn't tell me that by phone?

Sit down, Marcy, I'm not finished.

Where is Mr. Escandarian?

We accepted his ridiculous
low-ball offer,

and now we have not
received an escrow check.

Don't tell me you've screwed
this one up, too, Marcy.

You know, Vivien, I have
had it with your abuse,

and for your information,
I've called Mr. Escandarian

for two weeks--
morning and night--

the man won't return my calls.

I wasn't here when he
came back to visit.

Did you tell him your ghost story?

Maybe he laughed and you
bit the man's head off.

Excuse me, Marcy...

I'm not crazy, I'm just pregnant.

Oh, God...

And nauseous and dizzy.


And blinded by migraines.
Mrs. Harmon?

What? What just happened?

Could you get me
a glass of water, please?

Just don't have the baby now.

That's the last thing you want to do.


It's okay.

Oh! Golly...
Here I come.

Right here.

Oh, thank you.


Oh, boy...

Oh, I'm sorry, Marcy.

I think I'm going to have to
lie down for a little while.

Of course.

I'll, uh, show myself out.

Oh, thank you.
That's wonderful.

(door shuts)

(door creaking)

(light switch clicks)






(siren wailing)

You need to be seen by a doctor.

No, it was a through
and through. I'm fine.

What happened?

We're fine. As you can
see, I'm in good hands.

I want to talk to Mrs. Harmon.
You can't.

She's very upset. I gave her a
valium to help her sleep.

I'm with Heirloom Security, okay?
I got an emergency alert that...

You want an update, Luke?
Vivien thought there was someone in the house.

When I went up to help her,
she accidently shot me.

That's the whole goddamn story.

The whole story?
Did you guys talk to Mrs. Harmon?

We've got this under control.

So did he tell you that he
doesn't currently reside here?

That they're separated? He did
tell you that, didn't he?

You son of a bitch.
Did he also tell you that

he has a mistress with
a criminal record?

He told you that too, right?

I'm a licensed psychiatrist.

I know a psychotic break
when I see one.

My wife is a danger
to herself and to others.

So, you want to ship her off
to the loony bin, so you get

the house, the kids, the
mistress and the dog, huh?

Look, I don't know who you
think you are to my wife,

but this is still my goddamn house.

And you need to get the hell out.

(voices murmuring)

Wake up!


Looking for your lifeline?!



Hayden, Ben and I are separated.

You can have him all to yourself.

I don't want him.
He's pathetic.

I know. I agree.

He is pathetic.

And he is an asshole.

And he is an asshole.

And he has hurt us both very badly.

And he has hurt us both
so much. So...

So you should leave it--
just leave it alone.

I can't.
I have...

I used to think I was so privileged.

White, beautiful, educated.

But I've been deprived.
I have needs.

Terrible, gnawing needs.

What do you want?

I want what's in your womb.

I want those babies.

That's sick.
You're sick, Hayden!

No. I'm dead...

Dead...! Dead!

And I have a surprise for you.

The father of your babies--

he's right there.

No! No!

He liked it so much the first
time, he's going for round two.


Get off of me!

I'm not going to hurt you.

I'm not going to hurt you.

Where'd he go?

I'm right here.

Where is he?

Did you see him?

Where did he go?

Who? Who, Vivien?

The-- the guy. The rapist in
the... in the suit.

He was right here.
He was right here.

The guy in what suit?

Did you get him?

Ben knows. He was in
the rubber suit from the attic.

And-And Hayden was here.

She said that she--

she was dead and she said
she wanted our babies.

She's here.


Hayden!? Did you see her?

How could you not have seen them?

They were here, they were right here.

I don't see her, Vivien.

Well, they've got to be
in the house somewhere.

They're ready for her.

What's going on?

I had to do it, Vivien.

You're unstable.


And you need to be evaluated.

These men are going to take
you to a hospital.

I'm so sorry.

But it's the best alternative.

I didn't want to do it.

You shot me, sweetheart.

It's gotten dangerous.
But I wasn't shooting you.

I was shooting him--
the rapist in the rubber suit.

That's not necessary.

Ben, could you get
my coat for me, please?

Thank you.

You won't be needing that, ma'am.

Um, I'm so sorry, Vivien.

It's okay.

At least I'll be out of this house.

It's all my fault.

No, honey.

It's not.

You did the best thing you could do.

You told the truth.

It's okay.

I'm here.


(gurgling cough)

Not this way.

These boys have family,
friends-- they will be missed.

The police will come
looking for a killer.

You want them to find you?
I'm open to suggestions.

I think you should get over

you compulsive need to please
the ladies of this house.

I think I have mommy issues.
You know a good therapist?

Use this. It belongs to them.

(gun cocking)



TATE: It's kind of
romantic, isn't it?

Now they'll be together forever.