American Horror Story (2011–…): Season 8, Episode 10 - Apocalypse Then - full transcript

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---
Can I help you?

I'm here to visit the founders

of this venerable institution--

Mr. Mutt Nutter

and Mr. Jeff Pfister.

The fine security staff
downstairs were kind enough

to give me directions
to the correct floor.

The floor is the only thing
you have correct.

You do not have an appointment,
nor are you carrying a package,

so you don't have
any business here.

Quite right.



Your employers are fortunate
to have someone

with your skills
guarding their privacy.

I don't respond to flattery.

Nor can you recognize sarcasm.

You need to turn around
and go back the way you came.

Mm. You need to take me
to your employers. Now.

You might as well ask me
to explain your hair.

How did you get past security
without an appointment?

I did something like this.

My hair is an eternal mystery,
never to be fully understood.

Purple is for royalty, dear,
not middle management.

Did you put us
in Outpost number Two?

Well, I thought if we had to do
any last-minute troubleshooting,

all the brains
should be in one place.



So while the world is burning,

Johansson and Lawrence and
Theron are in the Bahamas...

and we're in West Virginia
with Professor Michio Kaku.

He's a brilliant guy.

So was Einstein,
but if it's between him

and Marilyn Monroe,
fuck the theory of relativity.

I told ya, bro,
genetically superior caste,

necessary but boring.

Well, who's gonna be
in Outpost Three?

'Cause Langdon
wants his robot there.

What? He wants
the Battle Axe 9000 in Three?

Yeah, not only that, but he
wants us to wipe her SSD

so she doesn't remember
he's the Antichrist.

Well, he's the one
with the triple sixes, not us.

It's his show.

What a show it's going to be.

Who the fuck are you?!

Hey, how'd you get past
Ms. Venable?

These little symbols are
Outposts for the survivors

of this little holocaust you're
so gleefully anticipating.

It's not little, lady.

Yeah. Seven billion dead

in the first ten minutes...
starting with you.

Outpost Three--
where's it located?

It's some place called
the Hawthorne School.

He donated it 'cause it's
underground, naturally shielded.

I see.

Mr. St. Pierre Vanderbilt

will try to purchase
four tickets

for himself and his family.

You'll accept his offer

and secure him a place
at Outpost Three.

Is that clearly understood?

Mm-mmm.
There are no spots left.

Make sure there are.

Planning the end of the world

over a box of hot wings.

I suppose I must get to the most
unpleasant part of my visit.

-What's that?
-The part where I have to leave

before killing you both.

Good day.

A thousand nuclear bombs?

How can we stop that?

We can't.

Michael's already too powerful.

He can counteract
anything we hope to try.

God, I finally find my place
in the world,

and now it's all gonna end.

I am not ready to die.

Oh, not to make it all about me.

Actually, it is all
about you now.

Your father will be purchasing
tickets for you and your family

to inhabit one of the
Cooperative's Outposts.

Coco is the plan?

The calorie counter's
gonna save humanity?

No. Mallory is.

Coco is going to secure her
place at the bunker.

We have one chance
to use Tempus Infinituum.

And we can't risk trying it
until Mallory is ready.

The only place where we know
you'll survive

is under Michael's nose.

In one of his bunkers.

He can smell a witch a mile away

like some kind
of evil truffle pig.

He'll kill her
before she can do anything.

That's why we're going
to place them both under

an identity spell.

You'll forget
that you're witches.

You'll forget everything you
ever knew about yourselves.

The spell will give you
new identities,

new personalities.

Your job will be
to demean Mallory.

Make her doubt herself in order
to suppress her natural powers,

so that no one can detect
her magic.

We've modeled your new
personality after Madison.

No. No, there must be
another way.

Consider it an upgrade.

Will my family still remember
that I'm a witch?

Your family
won't be joining you.

We have to eliminate all
variables that might expose you.

But can we just put them under
a spell, too?

Until the Apocalypse comes, yes.

But it would be too risky

to have them in the bunker
with you.

We'll make sure they're
out of the country,

and too far from the Outposts
to make it to safety in time.

My parents are good people
and my brother is kind.

They deserve it
so much more than I do.

I don't think I can
be responsible

for the lives
of seven billion people.

Yes, you can.

And when the time comes,
you will.

How will I knew when that time
is if I'm under a spell?

Your powers will emerge
when they are ready.

After you cast the spell...

will we remember you?

Not until the spell is broken.

And by then,
we all might be piles of ash.

So this is good-bye.

Gather around, witches.

And so it falls to us

to save mankind from itself.

And yes, some of us will die,

but you two will live.

So the Coven will live on.

So the world will live on.

- You ready?
- No.

How could I be mean to you?

You've taught me
everything I know.

You saved my life.

You are my best friend, Mallory,

and I am so sorry

for whatever comes out of my
mouth on the other side.

It's okay.

- I know you won't mean it.

And spell or no spell, I'd never
let anything bad happen to you.

If the world's gonna end,
at least we'll be together.

Okay.

Please sit.

Memoria unda temporis est,

memoria unda

temporis est,

memoria unda

temporis est,

memoria unda

temporis est,

memoria unda

temporis est.

Hello! Driver lady,
can you please

put the windows up?

God, I've asked her,
like, ten times,

and she keeps ignoring me.

You're gonna have to just
push lunch.

It's gonna take him
at least two hours

to fix this Phil Spector
"trial wig" look.

We only booked for an hour.
Please don't make me

call them again, Coco.
Mr. Gallant

is the most exclusive stylist
in Beverly Hills.

I had to grovel just to get
this appointment.

Jesus, Mallory, I really can't
do both of our jobs.

- Are you okay?
- God.

All right, ladies, we're here.

Don't forget to rate me
five stars. Please.

Jesus Christ.

- Okay...
- Coco, yes?

Hi. Welcome, bubbeleh.

-Thank you. Mwa. Mwa.
-Hi.

I'm always thrilled
to meet my newest muse.

I'm gonna need you
to clear your afternoon.

-Have you seen my head? Ugh!
-Oh, honey,

a thousand apologies,
but my afternoon is spoken for,

and I never cancel
on long-time clients.

Okay, well...

charge me double,

and consider yourself
on retainer.

So, who do we have
to blame for this?

My crosshairs are on

the literal worst
Uber driver in SoCal.

- Bitch.

I'm not gonna lie,
she did a number on you, but...

it's nothing my avocado-based
moisturizing milk can't fix.

But I'm sorry, Coco,
I'm just not gonna be able

to work my magic
with this little church mouse

- hovering over your shoulder.

That's my assistant, Mallory.

Who should be out getting me

my hazelnut macchiato
at exactly 120 degrees.

Sorry, Coco. My bad.
Ten minutes, ten minutes.

- Okay.

So, what are we thinking--
are we thinking bangs,

-maybe something asymmetrical?
-I don't even care,

as long as I don't look like
a tornado survivor.

--You shouldn't even be here.

Excuse me?

It's a complete waste of time.

No offense
to your stylist, but...

you can't improve on perfection.

A bowl of Moroccan Harira

is the perfect thing
to fortify the soul.

No, thank you, Myrtle.
I'm not hungry.

I want permission
to burn a witch.

The only reason to burn a witch

is if said witch causes
grievous harm to another.

What if she helped to destroy
the entire coven?

Who?

Dinah Stevens.

She has a new talk show on TV.

I saw the ad
on the side of a bus.

There is no way that bitch
could get a show on television

without selling her soul
to the devil.

Double-crossing us was her way
to get a ticket to the Outpost.

-It doesn't matter.
-Of course it matters.

We have to clear the rot.

Madison, you get the gasoline,
I'll get the wood.

No. We cannot afford
to do anything

that might alert Michael
to our plan.

Delia, she will be a danger
to our girls!

Dinah has never seen them.

Our identity spell
is more powerful

than anything that
voodoo queen could penetrate.

I want her safe and sound

until we are ready

to make her pay.

Sometimes I feel like there's
someone buried inside me,

someone trying
to claw their way out.

Who?

I don't know.
I just want to go.

-Let me go.
-Don't be afraid, Mallory.

I'm offering you
a chance to live.

I said let me go!

Who are you?

Well, that sucked ass.

I had worms crawling up my nose

and God knows where else.

How long have we
been buried down there?

Oh, I don't know.

A year, maybe two.

The healing properties
of Louisiana swamp mud, dear.

Delia...

you felt it, too.

It's time.

Find our sisters.

- I don't know what's going on.
- Poor dear.

To be raised up and released
from an identity spell

at the same moment.

Can someone please tell me
what's going on?

What do you mean,
identity spell?

We placed it on you
for your protection.

Coco, too.

It kept you from knowing
your true self.

Why?

Because you're special, Mallory.

And we need you.
We need all of you.

You're on your own
with that shit.

I'm not here to defeat anyone.

How can any of you defeat me...

when I've already won?

You haven't won.

Perhaps you haven't noticed
the state of the world.

It's almost as bad
as your dinner jacket.

But at least the world
can be saved.

By you?

-By all of us.
-Hey.

Get the wax out of your ears.
I'm here to watch.

But I'm not.

Just don't let me
die again, okay?

It really sucked the first time.

When I'm done,

you'll all wish
you were still dead.

I always thought the world
would end with fire and ice,

not witches and warlocks.

The seventh seal
has been broken.

Wormwood has fallen from the sky

and turned the rivers
to blood and fire.

The bottomless pit
has been opened

and my swarms of locusts and
scorpions have ravaged humanity.

The world has been remade
in my father's image.

Darling...

it seems Daddy didn't tell you
the most important rule

of bringing on the Apocalypse.

If you want to finish the job,

the thing you have to do first

is get rid of all the witches.

Big mistake.

I could annihilate
all of you in a second

and the world would go on
without missing a beat.

You and all of your work
will be forgotten

in the rubble of the past.

But I want to give you a future.

Fall to your knees and accept me
as your lord and savior,

and I will bring you
to the table

as my obedient subjects.

Imbeciles!

Fall to your knees
before the king!

- Hail Satan!
- The only way

we would sit at your table
is if your decapitated head

were the centerpiece.

Cordelia,

you raised me from the dead

so that you would have
the power of voodoo

on your side.

But if you know anything
about who I am,

you know that
the only choice I'd pick

would be the winner.

You're half right, Dinah.

She needed the help

of a powerful voodoo queen.

But that ain't you, sis.

Oh, God, no more. Have mercy!

No more cruelty for my babies.

You're a monster!

Yes, I sinned.
I gave no quarter.

But even when I was
killing that bastard,

-I kept his mammy...
-Shh!

What do you want?

Papa Legba told me to tell you

you are a pain in his ass.

Apparently
your work has been subpar.

You have no heart for torture,
Marie Laveau.

So I made him an offer
I knew he couldn't refuse.

To release me from hell,

Cordelia promised Papa Legba...

the darkest and most corrupt

voodoo queen's soul for mine.

You'll serve him well

in my place.

You're a fool, Marie Laveau.

You would have done no different
if you were queen.

No!

Out with the trash.

Give Papa my regards.

Ms. Mead?

You.

Madison!

Sorry about your little toy...

bitch.

My goodness.

Smooth as silk.

A personal item.

Remember, dear--

focus on it.

Use it to locate a time and
place early in Michael's life.

- Shed the ego.
- Shed the ego.

Disengage from this realm.

Place myself there

and say the words.

Tempus Infinituum.

That's our girl.

Bullets alone won't kill him.

He's become too powerful.

We have to find a place

to cast the spell
before he wakes up.

I'll hold him off
as long as I can.

You've got this.

Go. Go!

Come on.

--I should have been
on that plane!

Mallory!

What have you done, you cretin?!

It's payback, bitch.
I serve it cold.

I like it hot! Ignis.

Oh, fuck.

I guess it's back to retail.

Balneum infinitum.

He's coming!

Get her out of here!

No matter what happens,

it's better than where I was.

You will not pass.

You're dealing
with the HBIC now.

You really think your stupid
voodoo spells can stop me?

- Is that all you've got?

Not exactly.

Die again, fuck face!

Normally, that'd work.

But I'm nothing like normal.

Balneum infinitum.

Dona salui conductus.

Dona salui
conductus.

Balneum infinitum.

Dona salui conductus.

Don...

Come on, Mallory, please.

Please.
Mallory, come on, come on.

Look at me, look at me.
You can do this.

You can do this.

You can do this.

It's not working. It...

it's not working.
She's not strong enough.

I'm sorry, Cordelia.

It's okay, it's okay, it's okay.

Look at me.
No, no, no, no, no,

no, no, no, no, no.
Come on, come on.

Come on. Come on.

--It appears as though
we're fucked, my dear.

I love you.

How did you think
this would end?

Prophecy is inevitable.

I was always going to win...

Miss Supreme.

Not on your own.

You've been led by the hand,

coddled, the entire way.

By your father, the warlocks.

I look at you
and I don't see a man.

I see a sad, scared little boy

so pathetic
he couldn't even kill me

with a thousand nuclear bombs.

But I never expected to.

Like a cockroach, I knew you'd
survive the nuclear fallout.

I wanted you to.

And now I'm gonna have
the satisfaction

of watching you die,

knowing you failed.

You still don't get it, do you?

Even now.

You think
there's only winning and losing,

success and failure.

But failure is when you've lost
any semblance of hope.

You will get to watch me die,

but you won't find it
satisfying.

Satan has one son,

but my sisters are legion,
motherfucker.

Cordelia!

Tempus Infinituum!

No!

Michael.

Tell me something, Michael.

Do you have to kill

every single living creature

that crosses your path?

Could you maybe just maim one?

Or how about this
for a novel idea:

if they are
causing you distress,

why don't you just

politely ask them to leave?

He kept shoving his cross
in my face

and speaking Latin.

The words were burning my ears.

Now, I know

that I am far from perfect.

And I know that I have had
my fair share of failures,

raising children.

But I am done

taking the blame

for the horror and misery

that you keep bringing
in this house.

I'm sorry.

I-I won't do it again. I'm...

I promise.

I don't know why I keep doing
what I'm doing.

I-I need help.

I'm just a child.

No, you are not a child.

My grandson is a child.

And I see his eyes in your eyes,

and I hear the remnant
of his sweet voice

- in your throat.

But you are not him.

Now, you may have
somehow claimed his bed,

but you are not... him!

Please don't be mad.

You have made a fool of me
this entire time,

treating me like the help.

All the buried rodents
and the murdered nannies.

And I went along with it,

thinking it was just a phase
that you were going through.

But this is not a phase.

This is who you are!

And it's only gonna get worse.

But I swear to God,

it is not going to happen
in my house.

What do you mean?

Get out!

Get out.
I don't care where you go.

You can sleep on a park bench
or under an overpass.

I don't care!

Please don't be mad.

Please. I'll change.
I promise.

I don't want you!

Get out! Get out!
Get out! Get out!

Don't you ever come back.

Go ahead, do it.

Put me out of my misery.

But...

but you won't, will you?

Because you're a coward.

And deep down inside,

you know it.

I... I'm scared.

Oh...

Take me...

to the hou-house.

I can be with you.

Forever.

Please.

Go to hell.

Nothing ever truly dies.

We are all made of energy,

and energy can neither
be created nor destroyed.

It can only be transferred
from one form to another.

The trick
is to be able to go back

and pick the right
moment in time

and let it play out from there.

I see you know some magic.

Not the way you do.

Welcome to Robichaux Academy.

Oh.

You're a hugger.

-Sorry.
-No, that's all right.

I'm Cordelia.

I'm Mallory.

It's nice to meet you, Mallory.

Have we met?

I guess I just have one
of those faces.

Huh.

So...

how did you find your way to us?

I saw you on TV and somehow knew
this was where I needed to be.

My parents caught me floating
in my sleep,

and now they think I'm some type
of devil worshipper.

Maybe we can be your new home.

-Would you like that?
-Very much.

No one knows who I am
at Robichaux,

but I remember all my sisters.

They never knew what happened--

that the world
had been destroyed

and their lives had all ended.

Everything is as it should be.

Zoe is alive and well, teaching
the next generation of witches.

But there were others
who would be missed.

This is Myrtle Snow.

Without the threat
of Armageddon,

Cordelia had no reason

to bring back
her beloved advisor.

And she's the greatest witch
I've ever known.

Our coven
wouldn't have flourished

if it weren't for her wisdom.

She made me who I am.

I think
you would have liked her.

I know I would.

Come on.

- Guess who's going to Hollywood.
- You are.

--Yes. I just got my tickets

for The Price is Right
'cause it's Plinko all day, ho.

And I found
a really cute hotel.

It's, like, old,
but it's just been renovated,

-and it's downtown.
It's kind of...
-No.

I know I don't
know you well, but...

you don't want to stay downtown.

Who's this?

Hi. I'm Mallory.

Queenie.

This is Mallory,
and it's her first day.

- Ah. Welcome.
- I've just heard

the traffic in L.A. is brutal,

and it would take you over
an hour to get to the beach.

Right, yeah. Uh...

I'm not gonna fly 2,000 miles
just to see highway.

I guess I'll stay in Venice.
Be better.

It's strange, knowing
you have the power

to alter someone else's fate.

I know where Madison is.

-We'll have to go to Hell
and bring her back.

But she can sweat it out
a little longer.

Hi, bitches.

Nan?

Because I killed
the spawn of Satan,

I got blazing street cred

with the demons
of the underworld.

Misty?

Oh, my... Oh, my...

How can this be?

Guess everyone
hates their boss,

even in Hell.

Everybody wanted
to do me a favor.

- You're back.

How can this be possible?

How is it possible?

Oh, Ms. Cordelia.

I never thought
I'd escape my personal hell.

And then this one,

she showed up

- with the voodoo demon.

Took my hand

and guided me home.

I'm Papa's favorite.
He's my boo.

He sends me on errands.

-I have to go now.
-Wait, wait, Nan.

-Where are you going?
-Back to Papa.

I like it down there.
Papa lets me play.

I-I don't understand.

You're not supposed to.

Just say thank you.

Misty.

I would like you to meet

an exceptional young witch.

This is Mallory.

-Hi.
-Hi.

I'm pleased
to make your acquaintance.

It's great to meet you, Misty.

I'm sure you two
have a lot to catch up on.

--Oh.

The battle between
good and evil never ends.

- How I've missed you.
- The Devil

isn't just going to give up.

I was ever so lost.

And in changing the past,

a part of me will always wonder

what it truly means
for the future.

Know who's forced
to pick those beans!

Unpaid little kids and teens!

Hi, um, would you be willing

to sign our petition
for child labor?

-Oh, shit.
-Oh, my God.

I'm so sorry.
I didn't see you.

I'm sorry.

Is it bad?

Uh, it's...

it's...

it's okay.

I'd be happy
to buy you another coffee.

Just... just not from here.

What's wrong
with the coffee here?

Child labor.
Habitat destruction. GMO beans.

Look, I know a great place
across campus by my dorm,

so, for the sake
of the Brazilian children,

I'd be happy
to get you a coffee from there.

You know, I'm actually
part Brazilian.

Really?

Yeah. According to my 23andMe,
like, .07%.

Know who's forced
to pick those beans!

Unpaid little kids and teens!

So, for the sake of your people,
sign our petition?

I will gladly
sign your petition...

Know who's forced
to pick those beans!

...for my replacement cup
of coffee.

It's a date.

I'm Emily, by the way.

Timothy.
It's nice to meet someone

who's clearly going to change
the world.

You're doing great.
You're doing great, okay?

-I can't do this.
-Just breathe.

It hurts so bad.

I'm not ready.

- We're not ready.
-No, no, no, no, no, no.
Look at me.

Look at me. Hey. Yes.

Yes, we are. Breathe.

We actually had
an adult conversation.

I know. We needed it.

I mean, who would've thought
that watching a three-year-old

would be more exhausting
than ten hours at work?

He never stops.

He seems so angry.

Last year we thought
it was just the terrible twos.

That's our fault.

We should've taught him
how to count.

Oh, the AC went out again.

It's so hot in here,
I honestly dread going to bed.

I will call the repairman.

That's weird.

Do you have money
for the sitter?

Uh...

Is a, uh, ten dollar tip enough?

Honey.

Shit.

Oh, my God, Devan.

What did you do?

Oh, my God.

Hello. I am Anton LaVey.

You may know me
as the Black Pope.

Oh, it's nice and hot inside.

We've been waiting
our whole lives for this.

We're here to help.

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