Hannibal (2013–2015): Season 1, Episode 2 - Amuse-Bouche - full transcript

Will and Jack hunt a killer who is burying his victims alive, so they will become fertilizer for his garden of fungus. While the tabloid journalist Freddie sets targets in on Will.

Previously on Hannibal...

You make jumps
you can't explain, Will.

- The evidence explains.
- Then help me find some evidence.

I wouldn't put him out there!

Should he get too close,
I need you to make sure

he's not out there alone.

I don't think the Shrike
killed that girl in the field.

This girl's killer thought
that she was a pig.

You think this was a copycat?

I think I can help
good Will see his face.

- Hello?
- They know.



(gunshots)

You said he wouldn't get
too close.

See?

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(gunshots)

(Hobbs' daughter gasping)

(Hobbs): See?

(Hobbs' daughter gasping) See?

We're here.

(police radio chatter)

Could be

a permanent installation
in your Evil Minds Museum.

Well, what we learn
about Garrett Jacob Hobbs will



help us catch the next one
like him.

There's still seven bodies
unaccounted for.

Yeah, well, he was eating them.

Had to be some parts
he wasn't eating.

Not necessarily.

All right, what if Hobbs
wasn't eating alone? It's a lot of work.

Disappearing these girls,
butchering them, and then

not leaving a shred of anything
other than what's in this room.

- Someone he hunted with.
- Someone who is in a coma,

who also happened to be someone
he hunted with.

Abigail Hobbs is a suspect?

We've been conducting
house-to-house interviews

at the Hobbs residence,
and, uh, at this property also.

Hobbs spent a lot of time here.
Spent a lot of time

with his daughter here.

She would make the ideal bait,
wouldn't she?

Hobbs killed alone.

Ah. Someone else was here.

(applause)

Thank you.

Please stop that.

This is how I caught
Garrett Jacob Hobbs.

It's his resignation letter.

Does anybody see the clue?

There isn't one.

He wrote a letter,

he left a phone number,
no address. That's it.

Bad bookkeeping and dumb luck.

(gasping)

Garrett Jacob Hobbs is dead.
The question now is

how to stop those
his story is going to inspire.

(projector click)
He's already got one admirer.

A copycat.

Hi.

How are you, Will?

Uh, I have no idea.

Um, I didn't want you
to be ambushed.

This is an ambush?

Ambush is later.

Immediately later...
soon to now.

When Jack arrives,
consider yourself ambushed.

Here's Jack.

- How was class?
- Um, they applauded.

- It was inappropriate.
- Well, the review board would

beg to differ. You're up
for a commendation. And they've, uh,

okayed active return
to the field.

The question is,

do you want to go back
to the field?

I want him back in the field.

And I've told the board
I'm recommending a psych eval.

Are we starting now?

Oh, the session wouldn't be
with me.

Hannibal Lecter's a better fit.
Your relationship's not personal.

But if you are more comfortable
with Dr. Bloom...

No, I'm not going to be comfortable
with anybody inside my head.

You've never killed anyone
before, Will.

It's a deadly force encounter.
It's a lot to digest.

I used to work Homicide.

The reason you currently used
to work Homicide is because

you didn't have the stomach
for pulling the trigger.

You just pulled the trigger
10 times.

Wait, so a psych eval isn't
a formality?

No, it's so I can get some sleep
at night. I asked you

to get close to the Hobbs thing.
I need to know you didn't get

too close. How many nights did
you spend in Abigail Hobbs'

hospital room, Will?

Therapy doesn't work on me.

Therapy doesn't work on you
because you won't let it.

And because I know

all the tricks.

Well, perhaps you need
to un-learn some tricks.

Why not have a conversation
with Hannibal?

He was there. He knows
what you went through.

Come on, Will.

I need my beauty sleep!

What's that?

Your psychological evaluation.
You are totally functional and

more or less sane. Well done.

Did you just rubber stamp me?

Yes. Jack Crawford may lay his

weary head to rest
knowing he didn't break you

and our conversation can proceed
unobstructed by paperwork.

Jack thinks
that I need therapy.

What you need is a way out of dark
places when Jack sends you there.

Last time he sent me
into a dark place,

I brought something back.

A surrogate daughter?

You saved Abigail Hobbs' life.
You also orphaned her.

That comes with certain
emotional obligations,

- regardless of empathy disorders.
- You were there.

You saved her life too.
Do you feel obligated?

Yes.

I feel a staggering amount
of obligation.

I feel responsibility.

I've fantasized about scenarios
where my actions may have

allowed a different fate
for Abigail Hobbs.

Jack thinks Abigail Hobbs
helped her dad kill those girls.

How does that make you feel?

How does it make you feel?

- I find it vulgar.
- Me too.

And entirely possible.

- It's not what happened.
- Jack will ask her

when she wakes up, or he'll have
one of us ask her.

Is this therapy,
or a support group?

It's whatever you need it
to be.

And, Will,

the mirrors in your mind can
reflect the best of yourself,

not the worst of someone else.

(crow cawing)

Jason, where are you
taking us? I think we're lost.

Calm down, man.

I know where we are.

What is that?

I bet it's marijuana.

Mushrooms. Look, they got
tubes to water 'em or something.

No, it's a marijuana plant.

That's not marijuana.

I'm pretty sure

firearm accuracy isn't
a prerequisite for teaching.

Well, I've been
in the field before.

Now you're back

- in the saddle. Ish.
- Ish indeed.

Took me 10 shots to drop Hobbs.

Zeller wanted to give
you the bullets he

pulled out of Hobbs in
an acrylic case, but

I told him you wouldn't
think it was funny.

- Probably not.
- I suggested one of those

clackin' swingin' ball things.

That would've been funny.

You're a Weaver. I took you
for an isosceles guy.

I have a rotator cuff issue so
I have to use the Weaver stance.

You are tight.

I got stabbed when I was a cop.

Yeah, I got stabbed
in the third grade

with a number two pencil. Thought
I was gonna get lead poisoning.

Uh, no lead in pencils;
It's graphite.

See if that helps
with the recoil.

That was better.

You come all the way down here
to teach me how to shoot?

No. Jack sent me down here to find
out what you know about gardening.

(crow cawing)

So, Lecter gave you
the all-clear.

Therapy might work on you
after all.

Therapy is an acquired taste
which I have yet to acquire.

But, uh, it served your purpose.
I'm back in the field.

Local police found

tire tracks
on a hidden service road

and some small animal traps
in the surrounding area.

He wanted to keep his crop
undisturbed.

The only thing missing is
the scarecrow.

OK, we've got nine
bodies, various

stages of decay, and
as you can see,

all very well fertilized.

He buried them
in a high-nutrient compost.

He was enthusiastically
encouraging decomposition.

They were buried alive with
the intention of keeping them

that way... I mean,
for a little while.

(Jimmy): Long enough
for the fungus to eat

away any distinguishing
characteristics.

Line and rebar were used

to administer intravenous fluids
after they were buried.

He was feeding them something.

No restraints?

- Just dirt.
- The other end of the air-supply system

comes up over there.

It isn't a very considerate
clean air solution,

which clearly wasn't a priority,
'cause he isn't lazy.

No, he's not.

You find any shitakes?

(Jimmy): No.

Welcome back.

Tell Sam to give me a call,
will you? Thank you.

Excuse me.
I'm one of the parents

of the explorers
who found the bodies.

I wanted to thank you for being
so good with all the boys.

- Those boys were very brave.
- They are good boys. - Yeah.

- You're a local police detective?
- Yes ma'am.

Would it be an imposition
to ask a few things?

The boys are gonna
have questions and I

just want to be as
honest with them as...

- Of course.
- Can you, uh,

tell me what that man is doing
over there by himself?

He's some kind
of special consultant.

- Works for the FBI.
- Huh.

(sound muted)

(soft ambient pulse)

(Sound returns.)

I do not bind his arms or legs

as I bury him
in a shallow grave.

(ventilator pumping)

He's alive.

But he will never
be conscious again.

He won't know that he's dying.

I don't need him to.

This is my design.

- I think your family's leaving.
- We drove separately.

(muffled gasp) (Will gasping)

(Will): I need an EMT!

(person gasping)

- (Katz): EMT! We need an EMT!
- (Zeller): Don't touch him!

This may have been premature.

What did you see?
Out in the field.

Hobbs.

An association?

A hallucination.

I saw him lying there
in someone else's grave.

Did you tell Jack what you saw?

No.

It's stress.

Not worth reporting.

You displaced the victim
of another killer's crime

with what could arguably be
considered your victim.

I don't consider Hobbs
my victim.

What do you consider him?

Dead.

Is it harder imagining the thrill
somebody else feels killing,

now that you've done it
yourself?

The arms.

Why did he leave them exposed?
To hold their hands?

To feel the life
leaving their bodies?

No, that's too
esoteric for someone

who took the time
to bury his victims

in a straight line.
He's more practical.

- He was cultivating them.
- He was keeping them alive.

He was feeding them
intravenously.

But your farmer let his crops die.
Save for the one that didn't.

Well, and the one that didn't
died on the way to the hospital,

though they weren't crops;
They were the fertilizer.

The bodies were
covered in fungus.

The structure of a fungus mirrors
that of the human brain...

an intricate web
of connections.

So maybe he admires
their ability to connect

the way human minds can't.

Yours can. (Will laughs.)

Yep. Um... yeah,
not physically.

Is that what your farmer is
looking for?

Some sort of connection?

(Will): Goodbye.

- Miss Kimball?
- Yes.

Good evening. Please come in.

I've,

uh, never seen
a psychiatrist before.

And I am unfortunately
thorough,

so you're one of three doctors
I'm interviewing.

It's more or less a bake-off.

I'm very supportive
of bake-offs.

It's important you find someone
you're comfortable with.

I can imagine you
as my therapist,

which is good.

If I can't visualize opening up

emotionally, I know it
would be a problem.

May I ask why now?

Do you mind if I ask you

a few questions first?
Of course not.

I love that you've written
so much on social exclusion.

Since that's why I'm here,
I was wondering...

Are you Freddie Lounds?

This is unethical,
even for a tabloid journalist.

I am, uh,

I am so embarrassed.

I'm afraid I must ask
for your bag.

What?

Your bag.

Please hand it over.

I'd rather not take it
from you.

Thank you.

I was recording
our conversation.

Our conversation?
Yours and mine?

Yes.

No other conversation?

No.

You were very persistent
about your appointment time.

How did you know
when Will Graham would be here?

I may have also recorded
your session with Will Graham.

You didn't answer
the question. How did you know?

I can't answer that question.

Come. Sit by me.

Delete the conversations
you recorded.

Doctor-patient confidentiality
works both ways.

Delete it, please.

You've been terribly rude,
Miss Lounds.

What's to be done about that?

d (J.S. Bach: Cello
Suite No.4: Prelude)

Loin, served with a Cumberland
sauce of red fruits.

Um, loin. What kind?

- Pork.
- Wonderful.

I don't get many opportunities
to, uh, eat home-cooked meals.

My wife and I both work, and,
uh, as hard as I tried not to,

I did wind up
marrying my mother.

Your mother didn't cook?

She did, she did.

I only wish she didn't.

There was this meal

she used to prepare. She liked
to call it "oriental noodles".

Spaghetti, soy sauce,
bouillon cubes, and spam.

I was raised thin
as a youngster.

Well, next time,
bring your wife.

I'd love to have you
both for dinner.

Thank you.

Mmm.

Lovely. So, why do you think
Will Graham

- came back to see you?
- I'm sure

he recognizes the necessity
of his own support structure

if he is to go on supporting
you in the field.

Well, I believe that a guy
like Will Graham knows

exactly what's going on
inside of his head,

which is why he doesn't want
anyone else up there.

Are you not accustomed
to broken ponies in your stable?

You think Will Graham's
a broken pony?

I think you think Will is
a broken pony.

Have you ever lost
a pony, Jack?

If you're asking me
whether or not I've ever

lost someone in the field,
the answer is yes. Why?

I want to understand why
you're so delicate with Will.

Because you don't
trust him, or because

you're afraid of
losing another pony?

I've already had my psych eval.

Not by me.

You've already told me about your mother.
Why stop there?

(laughing): Oh, great.
All right.

Mm.

- What were they soaked in?
- A highly concentrated mixture

of hardwoods, shredded
newspaper, and pig poop...

perfect for growing mushrooms
and other fungi.

It was not
the mushrooms, though.

They all died of kidney failure.
Dextrose in all the catheters.

He probably used some kind
of dialysis or peristaltic

to pump fluids after their
circulatory systems broke down.

Force-feeding them sugar water?

(Jimmy): You know who loves sugar water?
Mushrooms. They crave it.

Recovering alcoholics.
They crave sugar.

Uh, don't take that
personally, buddy.

- Oh, I'm not recovering.
- Feed sugar to the fungus

in your body, the fungus
creates alcohol, so

it's like friends helping
friends, really.

It's not just alcoholics who have
compromised endocrine systems.

They all died of kidney failure?

Mmhmm.

Death by diabetic ketoacidosis.

- Did you know they were diabetics?
- We don't know

they were diabetics.
No, they're all diabetics.

He induces a coma
and puts them in the ground.

How is he inducing
diabetic comas?

Changes their medication.
So he's a doctor or a pharmacist

or he works somewhere
in medical services.

He buries them, feeds them
sugar to keep them alive

long enough for the circulatory
systems to soak it up.

- So he can feed the mushrooms!
- We dug up his mushroom garden.

Yeah, he's gonna want
to grow a new one.

I'm picking up a prescription
for Gretchen Speck.

Gretchen Speck... (typing)

- Horowitz.
- Oh, it's just Speck.

We're divorced. I lost
the hyphen, kept the ring.

- Insulin.
- Yes.

Oh. Oh, it's
the wrong one. Just...

- Uh-oh.
- No, no, it's OK.

Just gonna be one second.

There. There you go.

Oh, could you sign here please?

And that's your correct address?
Yeah.

- Thank you.
- Thank you.

Mrs. James.

If you could sign here, please?

Thank you.

She's the chain's 10th
diabetic customer to disappear

after filling a prescription
for insulin,

second to disappear
from this exact location.

- And the other eight?
- All over the county. One pharmacist

all over the county as well.
Floater, huh?

Floater's floating right here. Still
logged in at his work station.

Everyone please stop
what you are doing;

Put your hands in the air!

Special Agent Jack Crawford.
Which one of you is

Eldon Stammets?

Eldon was just here.

- Just now.
- Is his car still

in the parking lot?

His car!

Give me your baton.

Ugh!

(ventilator pumping)

She's alive!

(Jack coughing)

EMTs! Now!

All right. We know his name,

we have his address,
we have his car.

Jack. We just checked
the browser history

at Stammets' work station.
Am I gonna wanna hear this?

No. And yes, but mostly no.

"The FBI isn't just hunting
psychopaths, they're headhunting them

"too, offering competitive pay
and benefits in the hopes

of using one demented mind..."
Keep going.

- (Katz): It's about Will.
- (Jack): Go on.

"One demented mind to catch..."

She goes into a lot of detail.
Son of a bitch.

You are naughty, Miss Lounds.

(knocking on door)

Who is it?

(knocking on door)

Who is it?

Ah!

(Zeller): All clear.

I appreciate the pageantry,
Agent Crawford,

but you can't arrest me
for writing an article.

You entered a federal crime
scene without permission.

- Escorted by a detective.
- Under false pretence!

It is as good as permission.

You lied to a police officer.

You can't arrest me for lying.

You got all that information
from a local detective?

Lots of talk
about your man Graham.

Not to mention the rivalry
of who gets the collar.

A local police detective
looking for a pissing contest

with the FBI might have
some insight.

- And evidently did.
- Sure did.

You know, the unfortunate
timing of your article allowed

a murderer to escape.

You were in Minnesota.

You were in the Shrike's nest.
You know how I know?

'Cause you left one
of these hairs behind.

You contaminated
the crime scene.

Just like everywhere you go,
you contaminate crime scenes.

That's obstructing justice.
I can indict you

for obstructing justice.

I'd appreciate it
if you didn't.

You don't write another word
about Will Graham

and I won't have to.

(Zeller): You used me.

(monitor beeping)
(ventilator pumping)

(footsteps)

"He and the Grandmother
discussed better times."

The old lady said that

"in her opinion,
Europe was entirely

to blame for the way things were
now. She said..."

What are you reading?

Flannery O'Connor.

When I was Abigail's age,

I was obsessed. I even tried
to raise peacocks

because she raised peacocks.

But... they were
really stupid birds.

You could be reading
to a killer.

Innocent until guilty
and all that.

I'm about to broach the subject

of that "Takes One
to Know One" article.

Oh, that.

Did Jack send you?

No, I sent me.

I don't think we've ever been alone
in a room together, have we?

I haven't noticed. Have we?

Not that we're
necessarily alone now.

Yeah, right. Back to...

"Jack Crawford's crime gimp".
It certainly creates an image.

I don't need to talk about it

if you don't.
No, no, we can talk about

or not talk about
whatever you want.

Actually, I was...

I was just enjoying
listening to you read.

Abigail Hobbs is a success
for you.

She doesn't look
like a success.

Don't feel sorry for yourself

because you saved this girl's life.
I don't.

I don't feel sorry for myself
at all.

I feel, um...

I-I...

I feel, um...

good.

Don't know where you got
half that information.

It wasn't from me.

I may have made
some inferences.

They think I told you
all of it.

They saw you talking to me.

They think it's my fault
Stammets escaped.

- I'm sorry I got you fired.
- I wasn't fired.

I was suspended.
They're gonna fire you.

Jack Crawford will make sure
of that.

You...

you stir the hornet's nest,
and I'm the one who gets stung?

I can help you get work outside
the force, if you want me to.

I know people
in private security.

Not the first cop
you got fired.

Guarantee you it pays better.
Right now,

future you is thanking me.

I read your article.

Tell me about Will Graham.

(Lounds): Hey, Jack.

Miss Lounds?

Go ahead and stand down, officer.
Miss Lounds, are you all right?

Where's Will Graham?

We have an eyewitness
to the murder.

We don't need Will Graham.
No, that's not why I'm asking.

Someone find me Will Graham!

This is about Will?
He was talking about people

having the same properties of a fungus.
Stammets?

Thoughts leaping from brain to brain.
They mutate, they evolve.

Well, what does he
want with Will Graham?

Someone who understands him.

Graham was right. Stammets is
looking for connections.

What did you tell him?

I need to know

what you told Eldon Stammets
about Will Graham.

I told him
about the Hobbs girl.

What did you tell him?

Everything.

He wants to help Will Graham
connect with Abigail Hobbs.

He's gonna bury her.

(ding!)

Sorry.

(ding!)

(phone ringing)

- Hello?
- [lt's Jack.]

[Are you at the hospital?]
Yes, I am.

[Stammets knows
about Abigail Hobbs.]

Where is she? Abigail Hobbs,
the girl in 408. Where is she?

- They took her for tests.
- Who took her?

Who took her?!

Hey!

(grunting in pain)

What were you gonna do to her?

We all evolved from mycelium.

I'm simply reintroducing her
to the concept.

By burying her alive?

The journalist said
you understood me.

I don't.

Well, you would have.

You would have.

If you walk through a field
of mycelium,

they know you are there.
They know you are there.

The spores reach for you
as you walk by.

I know who you're reaching for.
I know.

Abigail Hobbs.

And you should have let me
plant her.

You would have found her
in a field,

where she was finally able
to reach back!

(Lecter):When you shot
Eldon Stammets,

who was it that you saw?

I didn't see Hobbs.

Then it's not Hobbs' ghost
that's haunting you, is it?

It's the inevitability

of there being a man so bad
that killing him felt good.

Killing Hobbs felt just.

Which is why you're here...

to prove that sprig of zest
you feel is

from saving Abigail,
not from killing her dad.

I didn't feel a sprig of zest
when I shot Eldon Stammets.

You didn't kill Eldon Stammets.

I thought about it.

I'm still not entirely sure
that wasn't my intention

pulling the trigger.

If your intention was
to kill him,

it's because you understand
why he did the things he did.

It's beautiful in its own way...

giving voice
to the unmentionable.

I should've stuck to fixing
boat motors in Louisiana.

A boat engine is a machine, a
predictable problem, easy to solve.

You fail, there's a paddle. Where
was your paddle with Hobbs?

- You're supposed to be my paddle.
- I am.

It wasn't the act of killing
Hobbs that got you down, was it?

Did you really feel so bad because
killing him felt so good?

I liked killing Hobbs.

Killing must feel good
to God too...

he does it all the time.

And are we not created
in his image?

That depends who you ask.

God's terrific.

He dropped a church roof
on 34 of his worshippers

last Wednesday night in Texas,
while they sang a hymn.

And did God feel good
about that?

He felt powerful.

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