American Horror Story (2011–…): Season 3, Episode 11 - Protect the Coven - full transcript

Why I had to leave Paris,

the jewel of civilization,

return to this shit hole,
I'll never understand.

Boy, don't set those down.

They go upstairs.

No. The yellow one.

Brown. Brown
like your skin.

Well, Father had to
attend to his business.

They have no inner light.

Look at them.

They have no intellect
to engage with.



I fear my restless mind
will become feeble.

You have us, your daughters.

You have just made my point
abundantly clear.

I need inspiration.

I'm sure you'll find
your métier, Mother.

I hear crochet is
popular in New Orleans.

Oh.

Wha...?

Mother?!

Do I have to bother
with this... thing?

Till the kitchen help arrive
tomorrow,

we gonna have to cook
if we want to eat.

Do I have to kill it?

Put the bird down here.



Shh.

Oh, I can't.
Please don't make me.

Give me that cleaver.

How hard can it be
to chop the head off a chicken?

You've never done it
yourself, Mother.

You've always had the cooks
do your dirty work.

What the hell is going on?

I'm sorry, ma'am.

I tried to stack
the boxes up myself.

I'm hurt bad.

Let me see what we can do here.

Oh!

Should I run and find a doctor?

No. I can handle this.

You go on downstairs
and cook up that chicken.

Let me... let me see

if maybe we have
some rags up here.

Here you are.
Here, bind this up

right quick.

We want to stop that blood.

Come on.

I think
I'm going to like it here.

Our coven mourns.

After facing so many trials,

defending ourselves
against onslaught.

Forging enemies into friends.

The witches
of Miss Robichaux's Academy

have fought for their lives,

and won.

And so, it is
with great sadness

we must say good-bye to Nan

who fell in the tub.

Amen!

If only Misty Day were here
to bring the poor girl back.

I have to do something

before one more
of our girls dies.

Your mother's
Pol Pot in Givenchy.

What can be done?
Whatever is necessary.

Misty's probably twirled her
way to the Everglades by now.

Don't bother.

Now!

The gardener said you'd be here.
You're alive?

Bitch, you left me for dead.

Oh, girl, I thought you were.

Oh, get your ass over here.

That's for dismembering me.

And that's for coming back.

I thought I told you to put
her white head in the trash.

I had my own ideas.

Queenie.

You put her back together.
No scars.

If I'd have done you,
you wouldn't look

like you'd been jammed
through a blender.

The most important thing is

that you're safe.

None of us are safe!

Why can't you understand that?

You are coming with us.

Okay, the funeral's over.

Say your prayers as you exit.

I'm not going anywhere
with any of y'all.

I've been suffering the
tortures of the damned.

I'm not taking another step!

Oh!

The man in the Cornrow City
shooting will be identified

as Jack Murphy, a homeless
veteran with PTSD.

When the Orleans Police finish
with their investigation,

that'll be the name
on the report.

So, my son will have
no eulogy, then?

He'll have no funeral, no wake,
no... fond remembrance?

What Hank did was foolhardy.

But his purpose was righteous.

What he did was
set off a storm.

Those witches used a spell,
I'm sure of it.

We need those witches to get
the government off our backs.

I'll pay them if I have to, more
money than they ever imagined.

When we're healthy again,

they'll pay us back

with their lives.

I'll set a meeting.

History will tell you--

not that anyone today gives
a royal you-know-what--

that I was born
to two prominent members

of New Orleans society.

A sit-down at a neutral

location of our choosing.

Ow! Jesus!

No, the meeting has

to take place here
in New Orleans.

You know they gonna
try to kill us.

That's what I'm counting on.

Although my mother's

maiden name was Lovable...

she did not pass that quality
along to me, her daughter.

I suppose
I was an unhappy child.

Not very nice, either.

I kept to myself,

communing with rodents
and small animals.

Cutting parts off to see how
they'd fare, or if they'd die.

You left your dirt
in the commode.

Why don't you flush it?

You flush my shit, bitch.

No one thought
I'd amount to much,

but I surprised them all.

I married well.

My lavish soirées became
a coveted invitation.

Cumin.

Coconut.

Cardamom.

Mulligatawny soup!

Mmm.

I've been transported
to Rajasthan!

Oh. Oh good.

Bravo, Delphine!

Magnifique!

It goes perfectly
with the wine. Mmm.

How the mighty have fallen

does not begin
to describe my torment.

Oh, yeah. How
you doing, love?

I've been giving plenty thought
to how I'm gonna deal with you.

Here, clean little Ceci.

Shh.

Thinking this time,

I'll finish what I started.

Scatter your parts
all around town.

Stick that head of yours in
a construction site shit hole.

Oh, your days
are numbered, woman.

Just when you least
expect it...

When I'm not
cleaning their filthy commodes

or putting food in front
of their greedy faces,

washing their
sex-stained sheets,

cleaning up
their general filth,

I pass desperately long
and lonely days and nights,

fretting over the deterioration

of my troubled mistress'
body and soul.

Watching her leave the house
each evening

without her undergarment,

not to return
till the wee hours.

Light as a goofer feather.

It's all about the lard,
isn't it?

You seem half mad, dear.

I had the sight once.

I know it's still in me.

It has to be.

I think this could amplify it.

Sorry to intrude, Cordelia.

I was pruning your fig trees.

Ah, figs, ah, figs,

Mother Nature's brown diamonds.

In the fall, the rotting leaves

smell like
an Olympian's ejaculate.

And then I realized

what was missing in my life.

Figgy pudding cures
the blues and banishes acne.

I'm mad for it.

Lately, I've been asking myself

just what was it
that fed my soul back then.

What did you do
to your hand, James?

Cut myself with the shears.

Miss Cordelia, why don't you go
and finish your breakfast,

and I'll see to...
James, was it?

Yes, ma'am.
Mm-hmm.

Because being a
hostess was never enough

for my restless mind,

and I realized it was
my childlike curiosity

about how my niggers ticked.

Much like when I was a child
and I used to carve up

a possum or a stray cat.

I just... developed
a scientific fascination

for their... their body parts

and their... their organs...

and their cries of agony.

They made a strange...

almost comforting sound.

Almost like...

a musical background.

And their thick African blood

just...

satisfied a desire that
was deep inside me.

And then you appeared.

Like an old friend...

from the past.

I'll get to the fingers later.

But let's start with your toes.

This little piggy went to market.

This little piggy...

stayed home.

This little piggy right here
had roast beef.

And this little piggy

had none.

And this little piggy cried

whee...!

Oh, yeah!

Elementum recolligo

huic locus.

Commodo mihi vestri vox.

Elementum recolligo huic locus.

Commodo mihi vestri vox.

Fiona.

I knew it.

I knew it.

My God, it was the both of them.

They drowned her.
Why would they kill Nan?

Oh, what have we here,
a romantic bubble bath?

I was trying to figure out
what happened to Nan.

Don't you care at all?

Have you met me?

Misty was right.

We should have let you rot.

Here. Zoe and I need to talk.

What's the deal, Zoe?
We were supposed to share him,

then you had to go fall in love with him.
No, I didn't.

So it wouldn't bother you

if I got on my knee pads
and blew him, right here,

right now.
If he wants it, be my guest.

Thanks.
You're a peach.

No!

Not anymore.

I love Zoe.

You think
you can just throw me away

for some junior
varsity mall rat?

I made you, Kyle,
not her. You owe me.

No, he doesn't.
He's not your slave.

God, you're such a brat!

Hey! No!

What is all that racket?!

Oh, Madison, you are the worst kind

of Hollywood cliché:
a bobble head

with crotchless panties!

And you're a dried-up old
Hot Pocket, but I don't judge.

You can't speak to me that
way-- I am your elder.

Welcome to the Revolution,
Carrot Top.

As the next Supreme,

I'm gonna drive this coven
out of the Dark Ages.

Crotchless panties for everyone.

And as for you,

Ken doll...

well, putting you
together was fun...

but taking you apart's
gonna be even more fun.

Ah, go slow with that.

Baby.

My granddaddy,

he had this farm in,
uh, Covington.

We used to go there
every summer.

It was the only...
ray of light in my dark world.

I want to take you there.

Fix it up.

We'll spend out
the rest of our days...

...drinking gin rickeys

on this porch.

What's so funny?
Oh, imagine me...

a farm wife.

Milking the cows.

Well, you've lived a big life.

You went everywhere, you've
met everyone, you've...

done everything that your
stormy little heart desired.

But you were never,
ever truly happy, huh?

Now, for strictly,

uh, curative reasons,
we got to kill

this young Supreme,
whoever she is.

But she could be our last.

I'll give up the axe, and, uh...

you give up the coven.

We could live like, uh...

like normal folk for a change.

What do you say?

Deal?

Yes, it's a deal.

But first you have to
do something for me.

One little thing.

Uh-uh.

Not very robust, were you?

Feel better?

Butler.

I thought you'd run off.

No, ma'am.

Been here

all along.

I can explain. I...
No.

One doesn't explain art.

One simply...

admires it.

You can talk.

I thought you were tongueless.

I was when I was alive.

Are you saying you're dead?

Murdered.

Right here, in this room.

That's true, isn't it?
I spent enough time

in the grave to know a spirit
when I encounter one.

I've been watching you.

A life without purpose...

is no life at all.

I thought I'd found my purpose.

Or at least a hobby.

Mostly I think
I just made a mess.

Guess who gets to clean it up.

Me, the goddamn maid.

You long for release.

I know how you can achieve it.

Oh,

it can't be achieved.

I've been cursed.

Yes.

The black devil

who is responsible for
your unending torment

is sheltered right under
this very roof,

treated like an honored guest.
Don't I know it.

They got me waiting
on her hand and foot.

It's wrong.
It's more than wrong.

It's a violation
of the natural order.

But there's nothing for it.

I drank that potion.

One moment of weakness,

of vanity.

Now I'm doomed
to scrub out her chamber pots

for all eternity.

Not if she dies.

Why do you care?

I care about this coven.

About preserving

the ancient line of Salem.

Everything is at risk because

Fiona has become confused,
reckless.

She's forgotten that
Marie Laveau has been

and always will be
her sworn enemy.

Marie Laveau must die.

She can't die.

The bitch is immortal.

By magic.

And by magic,

she can be undone.

What are you talking about?

Even a voodoo queen

can be rendered vulnerable,

if only for an instant.

Are you saying I can kill her?

I can provide you
with the means.

But you have to do
something for me first.

What?

Venture out into the world

and retrieve an item.

It won't be cheap.

Dirty hippie can kiss my ass.

Queenie?

I thought that we should talk.

First of all,

I'm very glad you're back.

Yeah? Then why'd you give
my room away?

You left us.

And you went across town

to our sworn enemy.
Who is right now

in your guest room
smoking a hookah.

Things around here
change fast, but damn.

A lot has happened...
Yeah, your husband shot me in the stomach.

To say I'm sorry
doesn't begin...

It really doesn't.

Queenie.

You...

are a very strong and powerful

young woman.

But how did you survive?

Turns out I got some new powers.

I shot him
right through my skull.

He shot you with this?

Yes.

And I survived.

I'm starting to think I
might be the next Supreme.

Not even a silver
bullet can stop me.

Thank you.

Don't touch me.

My eyes are open.

And I promise I'm going to
prove that to you and the girls.

No offense,

but since I left,
one witch is dead

and another one is missing.

You are just as weak
as you've ever been.

Might want to take
one long-ass vacation.

Let somebody else
run this joint for a while.

Now, get out.

Now!

Cordelia.

Delia?

Cordel...

Is it true?

Your daughter's
resting comfortably.

I threw a little analgesic
spell her way to help the pain.

Searing, don't you know.

She's taken out both eyes?

The blue eye, the brown eye.

Some of my best work,
between us pigeons, all gone.

Why?

Because your daughter
has become something

you will never
understand, Fiona.

She's a hero.

Your girl has
ripped her own eyes

straight out of her skull
for one reason only:

to protect the coven.

From what?

Huh? I'll take care
of the Witch Hunters.

And when I do...

this coven will have
no more enemies.

No enemies
on the outside perhaps,

but danger lurks
within these blanched walls.

Everyone knows it.

She sacrificed her eyes
to regain the second sight.

And woe to those among us
who harbor bad thoughts.

I have no secrets.

Then, by all means, go to her.

Comfort her.

Put motherly hands

upon your wounded
daughter's flesh

and watch your filthy secrets

be brought to light, laid bare.

"No secrets."

Shame on you, Fiona.

I deserve
better lies than that.

You are an enemy to this coven

and will be
so long as you live.

But Cordelia
has your number, Slim.

Go to hell, Myrtle Snow.

For what?

Allowing you
to see your daughter?

I'll be back.

I just need a drink.

Steady my nerves.

See you soon.

Butler?

Butler.

I've done what you asked.

You got it?

Paid a king's ransom
for it, too.

Oh.

Whoa.

An authentic 1895
Armand Marseille

Dream Baby.

You're sure this
is the original gown?

There's a certificate
of authenticity

in there somewhere.

This was a very limited run,
you know.

Dieter Hoffbonner designed
the gowns himself.

Grown man, taking pleasure
in a doll baby.

It's unsavory.

All right,

I did my part.

Now, before somebody notices

that half the silver's
gone missing,

you give me what
you promised me.

Yes.

The potion that will render
the voodoo queen mortal

and allow you to end her life.

A few capsules,
dissolved in her drink.

Few capsules...

"Ben..."
Shhh! No.

Never speak it aloud.

It's that powerful?
You have no idea.

You wanted to see me?
Come in, Zoe.

Sit down.

I have something for you.

Good God, chickie,
don't look at it!

You'll be blinded
by the sheer craftsmanship.

Um... okay.
What is it?

My only possession of value.

A sapphire and topaz
harvester ant

made for me by
Joel Arthur Rosenthal,

the Fabergé of our time.

The Harvester ant

is one of the most
venomous creatures

in the world, along with Fiona,

and JAR-- as the world
knows my dear Joel--

toiled on it for months.

Do you want me to wear it?

You could never
pull it off, darling.

Only Lee Radziwill

or myself could do it justice.

Now listen to me carefully:

I want you to hock it
in case of emergency.

I'm completely lost here.

You're leaving this coven, Zoe.

And you're taking Kyle with you.

I do love Kyle,

Myrtle.

But I'm not leaving.

I watched you and Kyle
together at Nan's funeral.

Such a pair.

So much in love.

As the great Keats would say,

"More happy love!

"More happy, happy love!

"Forever warm and
still to be enjoyed.

"Forever panting and...

and forever young."

I had a love like that once.

Egon von Furstenberg.

He dumped me,

but everything worked out
all right in the end.

You know why?

Because he went on

to marry the divine Diane.

And without Egon's support,

Diane von Furstenberg
never would have created

the greatest invention
of the century,

the wrap dress!

If you stay here,

your life is in grave danger.

I can handle Madison.

She'd slit your throat,
then sleep like a baby.

I understand Madison.

The depth of her cynicism.

Go. You and Kyle.

Run away together
and start your life over.

I'm committed to this coven.

So was I, and I burned
at the stake for it.

What if I'm the next Supreme?

All the more reason to run.

If Madison doesn't end you,

Fiona will.

Zoe...

you have a boy that loves you.

Because he's damaged goods.

How dare you

be so unromantic

and so very, very selfish.

Our dear Cordelia

plucked her eyes out

to protect this coven,

and you have the gall

to ignore my words
of warning and support?

Now...

take these tickets to Epcot

and my JAR jewels

and pack your bags.

Be ready for anything,

but keep the dogs at bay.

Those bitches have to walk out
of here untouched.

I guess we are first.

Well, good
afternoon, gentlemen.

Thank you for being on time.

Emeril has invited us to a...

a little tasting this evening.

We don't want to miss it.

Please, everyone...

No security?

Don't you want to
check us for weapons?

Cher, I took down
your entire company

with about as much effort

as it takes for me
to mix myself a Rob Roy.

And Marie...

Marie is immortal,
for Christ's sake.

You think we're
worried about guns?

Which reminds me...

I need a drink.

Waiter.

Martini, please.

Filthy.

Do you want something?

Oh...
Sprite.

And a Sprite.

Uh, Diet Sprite.

All right.

In every negotiation...

A negotiation?

Listen up, white devil.

Now, we sittin' here

out of kindness and generosity,

which is more than your son
showed the innocent people

that he gunned down in my shop.

Collateral damage.

You know, my new
friend is right.

We are doing you a favor.

We are willing to make...

Marie Laveau whole
for any damage

done to her shop.
We have only one request:

you have to restore our company.

There are thousands of good,
innocent people out of jobs,

and this has nothing
to do with them.

Thank you.

Collateral damage.

Look...

here's the truth.

This war,

it's a thing of the past.

Sometimes I feel
like I'm trying

to rid the State Department
of Communists.

This document

is signed by every director
in this room.

It calls for a 100-year truce.

No witch hunting of any kind

until all of us who can die

are long dead.

This is the end.

We give up.

Mm-hmm.

Okay.

Now, this is my offer to you.

You disband

this little merry troupe
of assholes,

vowing never to harm

another witch from now
until the end of time.

I would also like you

to sign over your house
in Berkeley Square to me.

But paint it first.

God knows all the money
in the world

can't buy good taste.

Well, now, I'd like

the private jet.
Mmm.

And Marie...

wants a private jet.

Okay,

this is insanity.

We came here to negotiate.

In good faith.

Too much?

Well, I don't know.

Maybe you're right.

Then here's my other offer.

You can all just die.

Well played.

You Harvard men,

charming to the end.

Yale... actually.
Mmm.

You know... killing us,

it's not gonna put
an end to this war.

Maybe, baby.

But it's gonna be so much fun
just to watch it happen.

You got any last words?

Go to hell,

witch bitch.

Well,

killing him was easier
than I thought.

Mmm.

You make a hell
of a martini, mister.

I love you more than jazz,
baby doll.

To the beginning
of a long, long friendship.

Mmm, mmm.
Mmm, mmm.

Mmm.

Where do you
think you're going?

To hail the conquering hero.

My man swung a mighty axe.

I have to go reward him.

Don't wait up.

Damn, Delphine.

You know, girl,

you may be rotten to the core,

but you do make a sweet French 75.

Thank you, ma'am.

Leave it!

And get out.

Only thing that could

ruin this moment
is to have to look

at your...

fugly face.

I'll leave when I'm finished.

Oh...

you will obey me, servant.

I told you.

I'm not finished.

But you are.

Stupid cow!

Thinking you could...

But...

Yeah, I...

The m... the magic

takes time to work.

Your fate is sealed.

Oh, you stupid rube!

That ain't magic.

It's an antihistamine.

And the only thing

I'm allergic to is you.

Damn you. Damn you!

Is she dead?

She cannot die.

What?

She's immortal.

But you said...
I just wanted her out

of my hair.

You were most likely
to cooperate.

Well, turds on that.

What am I supposed to do
with her now?

I don't know. Bury her.

She'd just dig her way out!

Make sure she can't.

Shh...

Finally.

A living doll.

All my own.

Don't forget your toothbrush.

Kyle, the bus leaves
in, like, an hour.

You have to finish packing.

Do you want me to do it?

I'm not going.

What are you talking about?

I'm afraid.

Of what? Me?

Of me.

Of me...

hurting you or somebody else.

I have these feelings
inside that I can't...

I can't control.

I'm not scared of you.

I'm not...

scared of you.

Put the rest of your things

in my bag and-and
put your shoes on.

We're leaving,
just like planned.

I love you, Zoe...

but it's not your decision.

"More happy love.

"More happy,

happy love.

More happy love."