Halt and Catch Fire (2014–2017): Season 1, Episode 4 - Close to the Metal - full transcript

$1.3 million in 20 days
and you just...

you just understand?

The future's expensive.
We knew that.

Apple spends that daily
on its in-house catering.

Apple ships PCs
that you can type on,

that have screens.

Oh, and what is...
is that a fish tank?

Yes and no.
It's actually a time machine.

See, to test
the BIOS and hardware

at the speed we're gunning for,

we need the 12 and a half
megahertz 286,



but it's not out yet.
We only have the eight,

and if we overclock the eight... pfft...
the chip will fry in seconds.

- So Larry here...
- Stan.

Stan's put the chip in mineral oil
and cranked down the temp.

Cooling it makes it run
at 12 and a half megahertz,

so we get to design tomorrow
before tomorrow's even here.

Well, what's taking so long?

We're right on track to have
our prototype ready for COMDEX.

- In November.
- Oh, and, hey, look at this.

Look at this.
Three four-layer PCBs.

That's the new norm.
Our PC's aiming for 12.

So, imagine, um,
an invisible subway system

with electrons as trains.

More layers, fewer collisions,



which is pretty amazing

when you're moving
at the speed of light.

The electrons actually move
at one third the speed of light.

Bigger point here, Stan.
Please stop talking.

The checks you're writing
are making innovation happen.

Tell me that's not beautiful,

that you don't feel the excitement.

I will feel the excitement

when a clone with our logo
encased in fancy plastic

running Lotus 1-2-3
is on the shelves over at Sears

and people are shoving
each other out the way

to get to it with their wallets
hanging open.

I imagine how you must feel.

It's difficult to believe in something

when your knowledge is so limited.

Maylene:
Nathan Cardiff's on the line.

- (computer beeps)
- Mother Mary.

396 milliseconds.

- Hot damn!
- Don't screw with us.

- Are you sure you ran it right?
- Checked it three times.

- Where's Gordon?
- He might still be sleeping.

Yes, I will be home
for bedtimes.

I know I said that last night,
but tonight I promise.

Hey, little privacy.

396 milliseconds.

What? But she's not done.

She did the subroutine
for the hard drive table lookups first.

That's what the seeks clocked in at.

Donna, we just hit
the Doherty Threshold.

No, I know.
I know. I love you.

("I Love Your Neurosis"
playing in background)

We hit the Doherty Threshold.

Someone's been up late studying.

Maybe between mocking me
and your 19th orange soda,

you could register
a little happiness.

I knew it would be fast.

- How much longer till you're done?
- I don't know, two days?

A day and a night,
or two full days?

31.29 hours and 13 nanoseconds.

Can you leave and shut the door?

I'm calling a team-building meeting.

(scoffs)
You're joking, right?

Joe: All right, gather round,
come closer.

Today, we hit a milestone.

When engineers measure
the speed of a PC,

they talk about something called

the "Doherty Threshold
of System Response Time."

It sounds fancy, I know,

but, basically, what it means is

when you ask your computer
to do something

and hit the enter key,

if it answers you back
in less than 400 milliseconds,

just under half a second,

then you will stay glued
to that machine for hours.

Your eyes may glaze over,

but your productivity will soar.

You'll be transfixed, mesmerized.

Even a slight deviation

back to half a second response time

will allow your attention to stray.

You'll get up and do the dishes,

pick up the remote,
watch the game.

But under 400 milliseconds,

ah, that's the sweet spot.

Well, guess what?

Our soon-to-be Cardiff PC,
though it looks ragtag now,

just clocked in
at 396 milliseconds.

(clapping)

Joe: Once assembled,
it will not only

be faster than other PCs
on the market,

it will also be addictive.

So spend time
with your families, folks,

get drinks with your friends,

'cause once our PC hits,

you're gonna be hanging
out with it.

- (scattered laughing)
- And, hey, Debbie, let's see 'em.

Now, this is just a smattering
of the calls I'm getting now.

Potential customers, retailers,

and they all wanna know
what we're up to.

And tomorrow a reporter
from the "Wall Street Quarterly"

is coming to do a story on us.

Practically begged me
to get in the door.

We're hitting the radar, people.

I mean, really cooking with gas.

So it's only appropriate...

Barry: No, no, no, no.
You'll contaminate.

- Everybody disperse.
- Joe, what are you doing?

Ed: Get that thing outta here.

Stan: You could blow
the whole thing.

- Barry: Come on, Joe.
- Relax.

No one goes anywhere.

(chuckles)

Oh, that's what I call
cooking the books!

(clapping, laughter)

(theme music playing)

No, Daddy, my pink ones.

Haley, stop.
These are pink enough.

Your pinks are dirty, sweetie.

Apple slices and peanut butter?

Joanie:
Yuck, they turn brown!

(singsong)
Not if I put lemon juice.

Just wear the red ones, Haley.

Why is it that when Mommy says,
"Wear the socks,"

- you suddenly wear the socks?
- Donna: Gordon.

All right, Smooch,
go put your shoes on.

("Sett of Ayers" playing on radio)

Maybe we should start
smoking pot again.

That'd take off the edge.

Yeah, and we'd never get out of bed.

How can you listen to this
so early in the morning?

- Doesn't it get on your nerves?
- (music stops)

So, 2:15, don't forget.

At the playground,
not the traffic circle.

Huh?

You're picking up the girls.
You'll have them till 6:00.

That's right.

- Wait, can't you just...
- No, no, I can't.

Hunt's been covering for me
way too much lately.

I can't be late with this one.

- Well, what about your mom?
- They're in Vegas, I told you.

And Rose has the chicken pox.
Do you listen?

Fine, I blanked. 2:15 it is.

Thank you.

But please come home right after.

I'm gonna have to
go back to the office.

Haley threw my toothbrush
in the toilet with pee pee in it.

I'm handling food here.

All right, come on.

Let's get the pee pee
toothbrush out.

What did you do to her?
What did you say?

(music resumes)

(sprinkler hissing)

(engine starts)

Hi!

Gordon, hey,
don't work too hard!

("Too Political"
playing in background)

# It's disgusting and sick
and always has been #

#Liberators become
oppressors all over again #

# And the church stands on its wealth
as it blesses the troops #

#Telling them
that their way is so true #

# And they build ghettos
to put their prisoners in #

# Still building ghettos
to put their prisoners in #

# No more ghettos! #

- Mornin'.
- (sighs)

I got donuts.
I put 'em in the break room.

I don't want that fancy reporter

thinking we ain't got
no hospitality.

(sighs)

You all right?

I think I need your help.

Okay.

Getting an article about us
in the "Wall Street Quarterly,"

the right article,
that could be a game-changer,

put our PC on the map,

take this company into
the stratosphere,

but if we seem sloppy
or fly-by-night,

if we project the wrong image,
then it could all fall apart.

Should I have gotten
pastries instead?

No, those are fine.

(whispering)
Our real problem is Cameron.

Her work station's a pigsty.

It's unprofessional,
it's unsanitary.

Frankly, it's embarrassing.

We've gotta get it cleaned up
before Kane gets here.

Well, he's scheduled for 11:00.

Yeah, tell the cleaning crew
to hurry.

But she'll never let 'em.

You know how she is.

Yeah.

You live close to here, right?

Yeah, just down on Buxton.

Then convince her to go back
to your place for a break.

Get her to take a shower,
wash her hair.

She doesn't hate you
and might listen.

You know, woman to woman or...

Well, you're her boss.
Can't you talk to her?

I can't tell her
to put on a bra, Debbie.

You can.

And please do.

Okay. I'll do my best.

Oh, thank you.

Cardiff:
You get enough of Milly's sausage?

Another bite and I'd, hell,

pop like a mosquito
sucking a pig.

It's good as ever, though.
She is somethin'.

Yep, she's a keeper.

Like they say, John,
"Good help is hard to find."

Yeah, well, thanks
for breakfast, Nathan.

I guess I'd best
be getting on back to it.

To what?

Beg your pardon?

What's your rush?

Thought Joe MacMillan had
everything pretty much in hand.

(groans)

You know what I just can't shake?

Loulu not funding our PC pipe dream,
that I get.

She's a tough one.

But her not returning my calls
after three weeks?

- Joe called that woman names...
- Bullshit.

- He wouldn't...
- Bullshit.

You could call Loulu
a redneck sack of goat sperm.

She'd still do business with you

if she thought
she could make a buck.

Is that your new M. O?

I ask a question, first thing
you say is, "Joe..."?

Ah, come...
no, of course not.

I want a straight answer.

Who's running things?

I am.

You better be
'cause folks are starting to talk.

They're saying that you're letting
this thing run away from ya.

So make clear who's
working for who

or else we're both
gonna look like idiots.

All right, I think
you know your way out.

(groans)

(gunshot)

And with this extra-wide
chip carrier,

the CPU and coprocessor

can be clipped into
a single ribbon cable.

It's just one of the many
innovations

that helped us
hit the Doherty Threshold.

(scoffs)

You're not an engineer, are ya?

What?

You just sound
a bit canned, that's all.

Like you're repeating
what people told you

or getting it from books.

(chuckles)
No, I'm the product manager.

Do I have a degree in...

I mean, the Doherty Threshold?
Come on.

You know how many companies
think they hit that

in the testing phase?
All of them.

Try building the damn thing
with the heat sink and the case.

Once the realities of physics kick in,
it's a whole new ball game.

Not to mention I don't write
for "Hobbyists' Weekly."

My readers
will be asleep in seconds.

- Okay, fair enough.
- Joe, I told you on the phone,

I came here because
Matt Garrison in New York

said he owed you a favor.

I owed him one,

so I said I'd pop by,
but now I gotta go.

Ron, please, please.

Just meet some of our people,
get their stories.

There's an underdog angle here

I guarantee you'll find interesting.

- Fine. 15 minutes.
- Great.

("Learn to Hate the 80s"
playing in background)

(keyboard clacking)

# One, two, three #

# Hate the '80s #

# One, two, three #

# Hate the '80s #

# One, two three #

# Hate the '80s... #

As you can see,
we don't waste money on amenities

because, hey,
you know programmers.

What's the joke?

"They're just machines
for turning pizza into code."

Yeah, good one.

But Cameron,
in this case, is a girl.

Yep, you don't
see that every day.

22, brilliant, and writing a BIOS
that defies belief.

- What happened?
- Cameron: It's gone.

All my code, l...

Did you try booting it up again?

I can't even get a prompt.

All right, look,
it's probably just the monitor

- or the connection.
- Guys...

What... what's happening?

You backed it up, right?

Yeah... yeah, at some point.

"A t some point"?

What's that?

- What the? Oh, no.
- (Gordon scoffs)

Are you kidding me?
Guys, it was a power surge.

Probably just burned out the disks.

Where are your backup floppies?

She left one in the A-drive.
It's toast.

FAT's gotta be empty.

Cameron,
where are the other ones?

- Here, check 'em.
- Yep.

(keys clacking)

(whimpers)

No.

- This one's degaussed.
- This one, too... wiped.

What?
How is that possible?

A vacuum cleaner?

You plugged your vacuum
cleaner in my computer?

- Okay, okay.
- Janitor: Sorry, sorry!

Just walk me through
what happened.

You put your...
you put your backups

next to your speakers
and then you blast music?

Good God, Cameron.

Why didn't you just put
a magnet up to them?

- Get off!
- Hey, calm down!

Who the hell is this?

Ron Kane,
"W all Street Quarterly."

Okay, girls. Let's go.
Let's go see your dad.

Daddy!

You're late. Miss Ferris
had to call Mommy.

I know, I know. I know.

I asked you to do one thing.
You can't write it on your arm?

You can't get an admin
to remind you?

Things got crazy, okay?
I'm having kind of a day here.

Oh, you're having kind of a day?

Now I'm gonna miss
another deadline

that I promised I'd make.

Well, maybe the stakes
are a little bit higher

in my world, okay?

I'm not just QA-ing calculators.

- Excuse me?
- I didn't...

Gordon, let me ask you something.

When is the last time
you cut their toenails?

Or which one of your daughters
is allergic to apricots?

Do you even know
their pediatrician's name?

No, you don't?
Because you don't have to.

- I make your world possible.
- Mommy, let's go home.

It's okay, it's okay.
We're just...

just take them, Gordon.
We'll talk at home.

Donna.

- Oh, my God, you can't.
- No.

You can't even take them.

I need you to come to Cardiff.

- Crazy back there, huh?
- Pretty sported.

- Thought they might come to blows.
- (chuckles)

I hope it's okay
that I set up here.

Your gal... what's her name...

said she thought it would be fine.

Look, why don't you
come back next week?

Our head engineer just told me
this whole thing's no big deal,

but even so,
it's kind of distracting.

Let me level with you, Joe.

I was never gonna write a word
about this company.

I think its odds of being a player
in the PC market

are about on par with the guys
who fix my washer-dryer.

I came only as a favor to Matt.

But lo and behold,
the universe paid me back,

gave me a story about a company
flying too close to the sun

that burnt to a crisp
in IBM's shadow.

The pain,
the dashed hopes and dreams.

5,000 words on that, a byline,

I might finally
get off this crappy beat

and make it back to Wall Street

or Silicon Valley,
where the real action is.

All of which is to say
I'm not leaving

till I get this
in all its gory glory.

Maybe you don't understand.

I'm not asking you, Ron.

Oh. Oh, a threat. Okay.

Let me lob one back at you.

If I leave, if I go,

I write what I got,
and we both know that ain't pretty.

Other hand, let me stay,

maybe I get the full story...
good with the bad.

Cardiff's engineers are the best
in the Silicon Prairie...

That's not saying much.

...and they will find a way
through this.

It's a bump, that's all.

Great, then I'm sure you'II want me
around to see that.

Or, wait, was that all bullshit?

This is your data retrieval expert?

Hello to you, too.

She did her thesis
on magnetic storage.

How long ago, Gordon?

We need current technical
know-how here.

Oh, excuse me. Like you'd
know technical know-how

- if it hit you in the head.
- Look, you can't be here.

- Great, that's just great.
- Come on, girls.

- Ladies, come on.
- You blow my whole day

and he tells me I have to leave?

Hold up. Look, girls, calm down.
Get out your coloring books.

What are you talking about?

With him here? Come on.

Everything we do
will be open to scrutiny.

Donna: Who, the reporter?
So tell him to leave.

It's a little more complicated.

With you, that's a big surprise.

I'm actually
thinking about you.

If it comes out
that you're working here,

even as a favor,

you think your bosses at TI
would be okay with it?

Is that it, Joe, really?
Or do you not want anyone

thinking you couldn't
save your own...

(whispers)
...ass?

I don't want your wife
at the office.

What the hell's
the matter with you?

Without Donna, this thing stays
dead on the table, Joe.

She is our best option.
Right now, she is our only option.

Fine, but if Kane wants to know,
she's a Cardiff employee,

and don't use your real name.

Hey, uh, I need to ask you
a couple questions.

Besides the floppy
you left in the A-drive

and the stack
near the speakers,

are you sure you never
backed up elsewhere?

(faintly)
Uh-huh.

That's a no?

Okay, how about a list of files?
Do you keep anything like that?

No. When you're in the flow
creating something,

you don't just stop
for some mindless bookkeeping.

Right, which is why
we're here right now.

(scoffs) Who are you, anyways?
Just somebody's mother?

Do you have any clue

what it's like to work
close to the metal?

Like, any idea what I've lost?

Well, FYI, I am also an engineer
with a degree from Berkeley

who's not only created
my share of code,

- but given birth to two real humans.
- Oh, God.

So, yeah,
I am somebody's mother

and you could use one right now

because, frankly, you're a mess.

Leave me alone.
Go burn a bra or something.

That's great. Sally Ride
just went to space

and here's you
screwing up at work

and lashing out like a child
at the people trying to help you.

You slept with the boss to get here.
Now I know why you had to.

Oh, I'm still sleeping with him,
in case you're wondering, bitch.

Oh, wow. You really don't think
much of yourself, do you?

Go to hell.

(panting)

Donna: It's melted.
Fine, so it can't spin.

The read head's damaged anyway.

We'll have to remount it
on a different spindle.

Wait, won't that just
ruin the head on that one?

Yeah, you gonna spin it by hand?

- A micron at a time?
- Yes.

If the guys at NASA
can grind parabolic mirrors

to within one sixth of the wavelength
of yellow light by hand,

I'm pretty sure I can control
the rotation of a disk.

In fact, my chances of success

are greater by a factor of 144.

Maybe, but no way
the ins and outs.

Exactly, which is why we'll modify it.

Use the stepper motor on the head,
not the spinner motor.

Remove the data one click at a time,
back up to a third drive.

Only problem being we'll die
of old age before you finish.

Not if the FAT's intact.

That way, aside from the fried files,

I can reassemble
the BIOS by deduction.

(scoffs)

I think she's smarter than you are.

I knew that the moment I met her.

How I'd never really deserve her.

And, frankly, I'm amazed
she puts up with me.

(whispers)
Someone's in the doghouse.

Come on, let's do this.

Joe:
Hey, you all right?

I brought you
something to eat.

Just go.

(keys clacking)

Okay, you can do the transfer.

ETA on that, Ed?

Not too long.
It's coming.

Wiring's a bit tricky.

Spinner wires are in
the middle of the ribbon.

- Mommy? I wanna go.
- I'm starving.

- Maylene...
- I'm sorry.

I got rascals
of my own at home.

- What about Debbie?
- Joe sent her home. I gotta go.

(sighs)
Fine.

Okay, I've got nuts and raisins.

- That's what's for dinner?
- Just eat it, okay?

- Kids in Africa are starving right now.
- Gordon...

Come on, we need to get this done.

Hey, I can take them if you guys
want to keep working.

No, no, no.
We're good, thanks.

We don't need
any more of your help.

Well, where will you be?

Uh, the garage, I guess,
just outside the fire door.

Fine, all right?
Just be careful.

There's a phone down there.
Call if you got a problem.

Okay, and we'II be right
in this room, all right?

Here, dinner, which they will eat
and not gripe about.

I'm sure they'll be little angels.

The good news is
I'II go blind before I die.

Then at least I'll have to stop.

Well, the guys are bringing
you down another monitor.

- There.
- (sighs)

There it is, the FAT.
It's mostly intact.

- Thank God.
- Easy, now. It's a process.

You know, watching you work,
you know what it reminds me of?

How often you distract me
when I'm trying to work?

That night in CS-50, remember?

When everybody had left the lab

and you forced yourself on me

on the motherboard
assembly table.

I recall it a little differently.

It took five days to rebuild
the ones that broke

- when you swept them to the floor.
- You swept them to the floor.

Hey, romantic urgency.

Yeah, I remember.

Donna, I'm... I'm sorry.

Okay, now leave me alone.
I gotta work.

- Okay.
- (chair rumbles)

Okay, oh, do you want
tickle spray?

Sure.

Some guy who doesn't
work here anymore

left it in his desk,
so I stole it.

Some people think it's yucky,
but let's just try it.

Okay, ready?

(laughs)

No?

I think real tickles are better,
what do you think?

- Right? Real tickles are good.
- (laughing)

- You're not trash.
- Yeah, you're fun.

What? Did someone say I was?

It's okay, girls.
You can tell me.

Well, Dad said to Mom

that you were
just like white trash.

Haley:
Yeah, they were joking.

How do you know
they were joking?

'Cause they were laughing.

Let's go play, Cameron.

You guys wanna see
something fun?

(gasps)

Huh?

Okay, go. Playtime's over.
Go play with your parents.

Joanie:
Let's go.

(door opens, closes)

(garage door rattling)

(rattling stops)

I thought Joe told you to leave.

Oh, he did.

But then we came
to an understanding.

How's the BIOS recovery looking?

Yeah, your engineers
didn't want to talk to me either.

They're a prickly bunch.

I thought they were gonna
try and crucify me

the moment I set foot down there.

Now you know they're smart.

Must be especially rough on you.

I mean, 22 years here...

selling diodes and ham radios...

to mainframe software, to this?

(chuckles)

You feeling any guilt

letting some IBM slickster

come in and hijack it
all away from you?

(scoffs)
First, check your facts.

No one hijacked
anything from me.

And, second, you think
your little story here

about our failed hopes and dreams,

that gonna revolutionize
news reportin'?

Hell, just another wad of paper

I'II wrap my dead fish heads in.

But you go ahead and write
your Titanic story,

the one where we go down.

But I tell ya,
y'all should be careful.

Because when we build this PC,

everybody gonna wanna be in

and you...

are gonna be
outside standing there,

your little pecker
wagging in the wind.

Now, you get out of my office
before I punch you in the face.

I think we got it.

(spray can rattling)

- (loud crashing)
- Man: Damn it!

(gun cocks)

Brian: Ah.

(laughs)

Oh, man.

They fired you, too?

God, it's like a frickin'
horror movie over there.

Hey, oh, don't worry.
I only shoot bad guys.

Yeah.
(laughs)

Oh, oh, you're here
for payback, huh?

Justice!

What are you gonna write?
The usual, huh?

Okay, go ahead. Do it.

I mean, they're both
such hypocrites, right?

Nose-in-the-air Donna
with her whole careerwoman act,

and Gordon, the artiste?
Oh, please.

Like he and Joe what's-his-face

are ever gonna create
a PC to rival the big boys.

Do it.

I swear to God, I won't tell.

(clicks key)

(sighs)
We got it.

Kane: Nice save.
Crisis averted, huh?

Well, we're just lucky
the file allocation table wasn't lost.

Once I found that,
I was able to write a program

to help reassemble
the data sectors.

She's not completely recovered,

but by my calculations, about 93%.

- And you are?
- This is, um, Susan Fairchild.

She's one of our debuggers.

Thanks, Susan.
Nice work.

Hey, guys.
How about showing Ron here

how you cracked the problem?

You really got in deep there, right?

Okay, well, the magnetic platter
melted, right?

And it couldn't be spun.
So we remounted it.

- Kane: And you are?
- Oh, Gordon Clark, head engineer.

No, no, but, come on.

IBM decimated your
mainframe business.

You laid off scores of employees.

Have you got the resources,
the guts,

to fight in the PC world?

Joe:
Ron, three things...

nimbleness, vision,
and a complete lack of fear.

IBM's formidable,
but it's gotten fat.

(sighs)

The storage room has no carpeting.

It's concrete.

I don't know about you,
but I'd use a mop,

not a vacuum cleaner.

I had the janitor let go,
but if you want, I can call...

My God, you are tenacious.

They were degaussed, all right.

But one of them
had a spreadsheet on it.

Another, part of a game.

Cameron's sloppy,
but she's not that sloppy.

She would've used clean disks
to back up on, not those.

You engineered this.

You got her out
of the room somehow,

you made
the power surge happen,

but you grabbed a bunch
of random disks, didn't you,

and demagnetized them all

before swapping them
for Cameron's?

Congrats, you got me.

And if I hadn't
recovered the BIOS?

I would've saved the day myself
before Kane left the building.

All of this for a little publicity?

Don't underestimate it.

He came in here today
with zero interest

in what we were doing.

Now, whether he writes
that we're geniuses

on the cusp of something great

or misfits who almost
crashed and burned,

at least he'll write something,

and right now that's all we need.

And Cameron,
who's sleeping with you?

- She's just collateral damage?
- She'll get over it.

Plus, she's learned
to be more careful.

(Donna scoffs)

Look, you can think
what you want about me, Donna.

But this is their dream, too,
not just mine.

I'd hate to see
their trust in me broken

over something so minor,
so beneficial as this.

If you're smart,
and clearly you are...

you won't tell anyone.
Not even Gordon.

The kids are fine.
Thanks for asking.

Hey, would you
get them settled, please?

- What?
- Just... I'll be there in a minute.

Okay.

Hey.

You scared my girls.

I had to leave.
I'm sorry.

Donna:
You should be.

I don't know if you heard,
but I recovered your code.

Not all of it, but 93.6%.

Thank you.

God, what I said to you...

No, forget it.
You were a wreck.

Makes sense you would be.

One time when I was in school,

I spilled a whole Coke
on my motherboard.

Hadn't backed up for weeks.

I felt like jumping off
the Bay Bridge.

But I have to tell you,
my code...

was never like yours.

Yours is, uh...

well, it's like a piece of music.

You should go home.
Sleep, maybe eat a real meal.

You can work tomorrow.

No, I gotta get back that 6.4%.

Suit yourself.

Oh, are these...
are these yours?

Oh.

Gordon.

(siren wailing)

(car door closes)

(sighs)

Was a little fast, huh?

License and registration?

Yeah.

Whoa, whoa,
what are you reaching for?

Just getting my license
out of the... whoa, whoa.

What are you doing?

All right, all right.

Oh, shit. He hit me.

No, l... what?

Ow!

(thumping)

(door closes)

They're gonna be
a mess tomorrow.

You mean in two hours?

(scoffs)

Man, what a day.

You were amazing.
I mean, amazing.

Susan Fairchild?

You give me my mother's
maiden name?

It was the first thing
I thought of.

So you think of me
as my mother?

No, of course not.

You're being crabby.

Come on, we both
need to get to bed.

What?

What?

Joe fried Cameron's hard drive

and made it look like
she degaussed her backups.

He did it on purpose

to try and get that reporter
to write about you guys,

about your PC,
about the company.

The BIOS was never lost.

He had the real backups
the whole time.

What?

This is the man we've hitched
our wagon to, Gordon.

This is your partner
in this whole thing.

But how could he? I mean...

Jesus.

I mean, what he put us all through.

Wasting my whole day
on some massive fake drama?

He only told me
when I confronted him about it.

God.

Well, did it work?

Is the reporter
gonna write the story

about us and our PC?

What?

I'm just asking.

- (phones ringing)
- (chatter)

John:
Jeff, we still fishin' on Sunday?

Jeff:
You bet, Boz!

Hey, Hank.

Saw that boy of yours
on the mound.

God, he is bringing some
Nolan Ryan heat, that kid.

Yep, they do
grow up quick, Boz.

(groans)

(exhales)

You wanted to see me?
Because I'm doing it right now.

No, no, it's not
about that report.

It's about this one.

Not only was it late,
it was full of errors.

I looked like an idiot
in front of Mark.

Um...

I'm sorry.

What's wrong?

You're better than this.

Now, I'm a friend.
You know that.

But I can't keep covering for you.

I've got my own job to think about.

As of now, you're on probation.

Now, unless your work improves,

there may be action taken.

That's it.

(liquid pouring)

Jeez.

What the hell happened to you?

I got careless, fell.

(groans)

Had a close call yesterday.

Yep.

If it hadn't been for Donna,

who knows where we'd be?

("Fear" playing)

# Fear #

# It's cold and it's gray #

# It's strange #

- # Fear... #
- (disk drive clicking)

# Fear #

# Fear #

# It's cold and it's gray #

# I just can't explain #

# Fear #

# Ooh... #

# Same as yesterday #

# Fear #

# Fear #

# Fear. #

(theme music playing)