Hunters (2020–…): Season 1, Episode 1 - Episode #1.1 - full transcript
In the summer of 1977, Jonah Heidelbaum's grandmother (a holocaust survivor) is murdered in her own living room. In an attempt to find her killer, Jonah is approached by Meyer Offerman, an ...
(laughter)
BIFF (Southern accent):
And I says to him,
"Never again, Mr. President,
can we let the Chinese motorboat
our tits like that."
I says, "Who's negotiating
your treaties?"
Jimmy looks at me with that
peanut farmer grin of his
and says,
"Biff, you are now, friend,
"but don't you ever talk
about motorboating titties
in front
of the First Lady again."
(laughter)
Rosalynn blushes
every time she sees Biff.
(Biff laughs)
Dad, he's doing it again!
Biff Jr., kiddo,
lay off your sister,
or no Six Million Dollar Man
tonight, you hear me?
Your new boss lives here?
When you're
the Under Secretary of State,
I imagine the world's
your oyster, hon.
(chuckles) There's nothing
to be nervous about.
It's Biff Simpson, hon.
He decides if I sink
or swim this year.
You're Carl Hirsch, sweetheart.
He's lucky to even wade
in the same pond as you.
- (laughs)
- BIFF: Hirsch.
- You made it, my friend.
- Wouldn't miss it, sir.
"Sir" is for Foggy Bottom.
In my castle, I'm Biff.
Wow. Well, okay, then, Biff.
Oh. This here's my wife Helen.
Helen. What a beauty.
(chuckles):
Geez, Hirsch.
- (purring sound)
- (laughter)
You win her
on Let's Make a Deal?
This is my new associate
I was telling you all about.
Just moved down here
from Boston.
Can I get you kids a wet one?
I'll take a Schlitz
if you got. Hon?
("Night Moves" by Bob Seger
playing)
Thanks. That's great.
♪ Oh, no problem... ♪
- Hon?
- (quietly): You. It's you.
- It's you.
- Hon, what's-what's going on?
It's him.
(speaking Polish)
The Butcher. The Butcher.
It's the Butcher.
- Hon.
- BIFF (chuckles): Well.
Gosh darn, Hirsch.
You didn't tell me your wife
was one of them vegetarians.
- (laughter)
- The Butcher of Arlav.
The Butcher of Arlav!
Call the police.
Call the police.
- Hey. Hey.
- It's Muller.
- Please. Please call the police!
- Helen, what on earth?
- Hon, what's going on?
- I think she's having some kind of episode.
Hirsch, maybe she wants
to lie down in the family room?
No. I remember you.
I remember your face.
Why isn't anyone...?
Please, please, he-he...
(speaking Polish)
- He slaughter... he slaughtered my whole family.
- You're scaring the kids, doll.
- Mrs. Simpson, I'm so sorry.
- He killed my whole family.
- Hey, Helen...
- He slaughtered them. He killed them all!
Geez, oh, man, this is, this is
really something, Hirsch.
- TRINITY: Dad? Dad?
- And in my own gosh darn home.
- I think I'd like you to leave now.
- HELEN: Stop him!
Halt im! Nazi!
Stop him! Stop him! Nazi!
- BIFF JR.: What's going on?
- Halt im!
- TRINITY: Daddy?
- HELEN: Stop him!
- BIFF JR.: Dad?
- Nazi!
(screaming)
- (silenced gunshots)
- HIRSCH: Mr. Simp...
Wait, what are you doing?
What is happening? Mr. Simpso...
No! Mr. Simps...
(screaming)
(German accent):
30 years of work that was.
- (crying, hyperventilating)
- An entire life built.
Marrying that American pig.
Siring three tainted swine.
How long I'd wanted
to snap their little necks.
Well, their blood
is on your hands, my girl.
Leave it to the Jew
to think only
of its own pathetic existence.
You thought the war was over?
No, dear.
Only the dead know
the end of war.
We're here now.
Everywhere.
We... we survived.
And we'll survive again.
You didn't survive.
You marinated.
I'm so glad I didn't gas you
in the camps.
This is so much more delicious.
And what a hungry boy I've been.
What hungry boys and girls
we've all been.
Heil Mein Fuhrer.
(speaks Polish)
Sieg heil!
- (silenced gunshot)
- (body falls)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
(laughter)
(indistinct chatter)
CHEEKS:
Nah, it was good.
It's just, why the hell does
Darth Vader got to be black?
BOOTYHOLE: He-He's not black,
Cheeks, he's-he's a Dark Lord.
- Oh, a Dark Lord?
- Yeah.
Dude's got a black suit,
dude's got a black mask.
And last time I checked,
James Earl Jones
is sure as shit a brother.
We're always
the motherfucking villain, man.
- And you know what? I see it.
- Oh, here we go.
You think Vader's
the villain, though?
- Yeah.
- Are you serious, Jonah?
Every time Vader
came on the screen,
Bootyhole pissed
his husky boy pants.
Oh, fuck you, okay? Darth Vader
killed tons of people.
Look, Vader did some bad shit.
I'm not saying that,
not denying that.
Darth Vader wasn't
born Darth Vader.
For all we know,
he was born Chad Rubenstein.
Asthmatic,
premature-ejaculating...
- Chad Rubenstein?
- ...good-hearted loser.
- And he can talk about losers.
- And...
like every kid
in the Galactic Empire,
he was conditioned to believe
that some evil Jedi rebels
from some desert shithole were
gonna come bomb his parents,
behead his friends, kidnap
all the hot Galactic chicks
for lightsaber orgies.
Vader doesn't get up...
(car horn honks)
...every day looking to destroy
the galaxy.
No, no. He gets up every morning
believing he needs to save it.
Yeah, but he's-he's still
a murderer, dude.
- Exactly.
- So is Batman, Booty.
- Oh...
- So is fucking Batman.
He hanged a mental patient
from the Batplane.
He-he crushed a guy's guts out
with a car compactor.
Superman's slaughtered cities.
G... uh, Green Lantern
took out a planet.
Uh, Orion the Space Slayer
fucking leveled
a goddamn solar system.
The only difference
between a hero and a villain
is who sells more costumes
on Halloween.
Damn, how much of your Cheech
you Chong, jiggy?
You know, I'd save some of that
for your customers.
No, no, no.
Chewbacca's like this.
(growls à la Chewbacca)
(others imitating growl)
(indistinct chatter)
♪ I can tell by... ♪
- Hey, Carol.
- Hey, Jonah.
♪ You got what it takes,
come on now ♪
♪ Baby, baby... ♪
Circle jerk run late, fuckheads?
BOOTYHOLE: Well,
we kept picturing your face
and none of us could come.
(laughs softly)
You think you're funny,
you fat shit?
Could hear the fucking nerd
mating call from down the block.
First time, huh, Heidel-bitch?
Jesus, it's like doing
a fucking heroin deal
with Mr. fucking Rogers.
Come on.
Show me what you got.
Uh, yeah. Right.
- Sell me on it.
- (stifled laugh in distance)
S-Se-Sell you?
(dog barking in distance)
Uh... (stammers) Yeah, man,
look, I-I'd try to sell you
on it, but that'd be like...
like Buddha trying to hawk you
a timeshare in Nirvana.
Ooh. Tagline and everything.
Okay, look,
I do $15 per quarter.
Jew gets right
to the bottom dollar, huh?
(jocks snickering)
Just give me
two ounces, shit-tard.
Okay, yep. That's, uh, $120.
I'll give you $60.
(jocks laughing)
CAROL:
Dennis, stop. Come on.
JONAH:
Uh, no. Uh, look,
- I said it's $120, it's $120.
- I don't think that you're understanding me.
- No. This isn't a negotiation.
- And I don't speak little bitch.
So let me translate.
- Dennis. Dennis, stop. Come on.
- Come on.
Give me my,
give me my shit back.
Aw, you putting on
a show for Carol
so she can see you
act all tough? I mean,
you've had a hard-on
for her for years, haven't you?
Guess what. She is never gonna
suck your tiny kosher wiener,
- Art Gar-fuck-el.
- CAROL: Are you kidding me?
Give me my, give me my shit.
What the fuck
are you gonna do, kike?
- JOCK: He's gonna cry.
- (laughter)
- Give me my fucking bag back.
- No, no...
- No. No, Dennis, stop. Stop.
- BOOTYHOLE: Get the fuck off, dude.
What are you doing, asshole?
Get off me, man.
- As soon as this little Jew bitch quits begging for more.
- Stop. No. No!
Get off of me!
Step the fuck off.
Dennis. Stop.
Just leave... Dennis.
Stop. Enough.
(panting):
Stop. Stop. Stop.
BOOTYHOLE:
Dennis, this is not cool, man.
CAROL:
You're an asshole, Dennis.
Carol.
- Carol.
- You're a fucking asshole!
Stop.
- Hey, you okay?
- Yeah, I'm fine.
REPORTER (over radio):
...warning everyone to lock their doors.
I'll see you guys.
With the Son of Sam killer
still terrorizing New York...
(piano playing)
RUTH:
Jonah?
It's just me, Safta. I hung
around for the double feature.
Did your black eye and bloody
lip hang around, too, darling?
(sighs)
JONAH:
It looks worse than it is.
RUTH:
I'm thinking you need a stitch.
JONAH:
No. No, I won't.
- RUTH: I don't know.
- It's fine. Trust me.
- It looks bad.
- Looks worse.
Go on. Eat some of this.
It heals all aches of the body
and all matters of the soul.
Hmm.
That's some Walt Whitman shit
right there.
You should write that down
in one of your cookbooks.
How'd you know?
I'm your safta.
I know everything.
And Mrs. Schlosstein saw you
walking on Avenue J.
She gave me a call right away.
Mm, the bubbeleh bat phone.
You think you're a big man
for getting in a fight?
I was just defending myself.
Oh, don't touch,
don't touch, don't touch.
I'll get a bandage.
- (rustling)
- RUTH: What?
- What is this?
- Hmm?
- A drug dealer? A criminal?
- Oh, shit.
Safta.
- How could you?
- Please.
- Please...
- How could you?
This puts food
on our table, okay?
This puts a roof over our heads.
I would rather starve
on the street
than have my grandson be a thug.
Everything I do is for you.
You think I want to be
doing this?
You don't think I want to be
at some WASP college
we can't afford actually
making something of myself?
I do this so we can survive.
Look. You were meant
for more than this.
A brilliant mind.
You see things no one else can.
It's a gift from God,
and this is how you use it?
To put this chazerai out
into the world?
Ah, you're worried about
the world. Well, the world
sure as shit's
not worried about us.
Everything you do, it's a choice
between licht un finster.
Light or darkness.
You must choose well.
Sometimes when you're
trying to survive,
you don't have a choice.
- There's always a choice.
- (gasps softly)
Safta.
- Safta, I'm...
- I love you.
I love you the most.
Everything I'm doing is for you.
You'll see soon enough.
♪ You are what you perceive ♪
♪ What comes is better ♪
♪ Than what came before... ♪
♪ ♪
MAN:
How you doing, Carol...?
CAROL:
Okay, thanks.
♪ Ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba ♪
♪ Ba-ba-ba-ba ♪
♪ Ba-ba-ba ♪
♪ And you better come ♪
♪ Come-come, come to me ♪
♪ Come-come,
come to me ♪
♪ Better come ♪
♪ Come-come, come to me ♪
♪ Ba-ba-ba-ba ♪
♪ Ba. ♪
(glass shatters)
- MAN: How did you find me?
- (clattering)
- (Ruth speaks indistinctly)
- I won't ask you again.
RUTH:
You will be brought to justice.
MAN:
How did you find me?
RUTH:
Go ahead, shoot, shoot.
I am not afraid.
- You can't hide.
- (cheering over TV)
You can't hide.
- You can't...
- (gunshot)
(door slams)
Safta!
Safta, Safta, what...?
Oh, Jesus.
Safta, hey, stay with me,
stay with me.
Stay... Help!
Help! Help!
(panting):
Oh, fuck.
Oh, fuck.
- (clattering)
- Help!
Help, somebody! Help!
- Please, call an ambulance!
- (phone clangs, dial spins)
451373rd Street,
there's been a shooting.
Please, please come.
(whimpers)
Safta, Safta, Safta, stay awake.
Stay with me.
Please, please. Oh, God.
Stay with me, stay with me.
Stay with me, please.
- Help! Help!
- (Ruth whimpers)
It's okay, stay with me.
Stay with me.
No, no, no, no, no.
Oh, no. No.
No, no.
(sobbing)
Please. (sniffles)
(sobbing continues)
♪ ♪
- Jonah...
- MAN: NYPD.
Come on, Jonah.
Let me get you
another shirt, son.
I don't want another shirt.
I've been here
for fucking hours,
I just want to know
what you found.
It looks like a robbery
gone wrong.
But at the moment,
we don't got much to go on.
I-I t... I told you,
he was wearing black.
He had a hat on.
He left down the-the, uh,
the alleyway and-and...
Fucking damn it. What fucking
information do you need?
She-she shouted at him, she
said, "You can't fucking hide."
Jonah, I can't put out
a city-wide...
- She said, "You can't fucking hide."
- I can't. Jonah, listen to me.
I can't put out a city-wide
looking for a man
in a black hat.
I'm going to see that everything
we can do gets done, okay?
But it's gonna take some time.
The city's at war, son.
Sequence killers, the sex
peddlers, drug runners, I...
- (pounds table)
- Our boys are spread thin.
But I won't let up.
I promise.
♪ Mein ♪
♪ Lieber herr ♪
♪ Farewell, mein lieber herr ♪
♪ It was a fine affair ♪
♪ But now it's over ♪
♪ And though I used to care ♪
♪ I need the open air ♪
♪ You're better off without me,
mein herr ♪
(phone ringing)
♪ Don't dab your eye,
mein herr ♪
♪ Or wonder why, mein herr ♪
♪ I've always said
that I was a rover ♪
♪ We mustn't... ♪
(phone ringing)
(faintly): ♪ You'd every cause
to doubt me, mein herr... ♪
MAN (over phone):
17 Washington Lane.
Chevy Chase, Maryland.
Understood.
♪ Not only up and down,
but side to side, mein... ♪
- ♪ Oh, yeah ♪
- (fly buzzing)
♪ Come on ♪
(mumbles):
25.
(faintly):
♪ Let's go fishing, baby ♪
♪ In the park ♪
♪ Let's go fishing, baby ♪
♪ When it gets dark ♪
♪ Leave all your friends
behind ♪
♪ I'll leave all of mine ♪
♪ We'll get together, girl ♪
♪ And have a good time ♪
♪ In the park... ♪
BIFF (Southern accent):
Took you long enough.
I've been waiting all night.
Eh, do you know
a four-letter word
for "bovine," exclamation?
What?
They would have blown my cover.
30 years I spent infiltrating
this swamp:
D.C. strip clubs, Senate
cloakrooms, the Oval Office.
And now, just weeks
after our breakthrough,
you think I'd allow it all to be
undone by a Juden cockroach?
♪ Onto mine... ♪
Did I create unwanted noise?
Sure. But Uncle Sam won't
suspect a thing.
Hell, I could goose-step
the Electric Slide
on the National Mall,
they wouldn't add it up.
These fools are too busy
believing their own people
are the enemy;
they've blinded themselves
to us.
Offer up a black man to blame,
you can get away
with anything in America.
The neighbors didn't
hear anything.
The jewelry's in the bedroom.
Oh, and with me dealing
with this shit,
you need to pay Congressman
Dick Marshall a visit.
This is what he needs to do.
Make sure he does it.
The Colonel made clear there's
no room for failure.
So don't fuck up.
Understand?
♪ Talkin' 'bout the park,
mama! ♪
♪ Talkin' 'bout the park, baby ♪
♪ Talkin' 'bout the park,
baby... ♪
Uh, how about the left arm?
So I can still... you know.
♪ In the dark, yeah... ♪
With my right.
Heck else am I gonna do
in the hospital for a week?
(Biff groans)
Oh!
(groaning)
(straining):
Fuck. Ah!
(exhales)
(Biff panting)
(groans)
♪ Come on ♪
♪ All right. ♪
(rabbi praying in Hebrew)
(prayer continues)
♪ ♪
(prayer continues)
♪ ♪
(rabbi's voice echoing)
♪ ♪
Jonah, only immediate family
is supposed to sit shiva.
- Is that right, Mrs. Schlosstein?
- Mm.
Well, if...
my safta's parents
weren't shot in the ghetto...
sister wasn't killed
in the camps,
her husband didn't die in Korea,
and her only kid
didn't bleed out having me...
then they'd be here instead.
I'm all she had in this world,
so I'm sitting for them.
So why don't you shut
your gefilte-fish-stinking
fat fucking mouth?
(chatter in distance)
(dog barking)
(exhales)
(door creaks open)
(speaking Yiddish)
"In a world of diarrhea
and constipation,
it's okay to be a normal
piece of shit sometimes."
(Jonah sighs)
Besides, Moira Schlosstein
had it coming.
Meyer Offerman.
My deepest sorrows
about your grandmother.
Ah.
How many broads I've been with.
(Meyer chuckles)
Laughter is good medicine
in the worst of times.
Your grandmother taught me that.
How'd you know my grandmother?
Your safta and I were
in the camps together.
In fact, I owe my life to her.
She didn't talk
about the camps much.
What is there to talk about?
Hmm?
(Jonah sighs)
She lives through all that
just to be shot
in her living room
by a fucking burglar.
Well, did-did you happen
to hear his voice?
C-Catch his face?
No.
There are street lamps
down that alley, no?
Did you see anything at all?
H-How did you know he came in
through the alley?
Well, noticed that...
that the back door
was boarded up.
So...
I suppose I watch too much Kojak
in my old age.
A potato of the couch.
"You can't hide.
You can't hide.
You can't hide."
That's what she said to him
right before he killed her.
"You can't hide."
And it just... it sounded...
it sounded like she knew him.
- It sounded...
- Personal.
Yeah.
I suppose every murder
is personal.
Oh. I'm sorry.
I am sorry.
(woman speaks Hebrew)
Well, I'm sure
the police are on it.
Wise that we let them
do their work.
Your grandmother was a fighter.
And I trust
it courses through your veins
as well as hers.
But if you ever need anything...
money, assistance,
anything at all...
you come to me.
This is not charity.
It's a debt I owe her.
You know,
you have an intimate
relationship with death.
But know it not to be a curse
but a blessing.
One that will bring you
closer to life.
As the Talmud tells us,
"Living well
is the best revenge."
I hope I see you again.
(car horn honks)
(children laughing, shouting)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
RUTH:
September 5, 1941.
It was chaos,
chaos in the ghetto.
(guns popping)
- (woman screams)
- (indistinct shouting)
(woman calling out)
(dog barking furiously)
They beat our pregnant,
ravaged our children,
stole our lives.
(man calling out)
They tried to kill
the very thing that made us us,
so that we should
look to the sky
and not see God,
but see shum da-var...
nothing.
- (screaming)
- (baby wailing)
I searched for my family
until I saw them.
My mother, shot dead,
in my father's arms...
...even as he, too,
called out to the sky.
- Papa!
- Shum da-var...
RUTH:
Shum da-var. Nothing.
- (soldier shouts in German)
- And then he came.
- (grunts)
- Papa!
Meyer was his name.
He saved my life that night.
Papa!
(screams)
I don't know what was worse...
to see that the Nazis
had killed my father,
or to see
that they had killed God.
YOUNG RUTH:
Papa!
RUTH: But for the
first time in my life,
I wished to kill.
I wished to kill them all.
(sniffles)
♪ ♪
- (seagulls crying)
- WOMAN (on TV): Marilu Henner.
HOST:
That's right, Marilu Henner
is the answer
we're looking for,
and you have the nine
if you'd like it.
WOMAN:
I'll take the nine.
- MAN: You'll take it.
- HOST: All righty, you got it.
(thumping, clanking inside)
- (whirring) - The 1984 games
will be held in Los Angeles.
PLUMBER: The shower's nearly fixed,
Ms. Fischer.
HOST: Are the Soviets planning
on coming? Yes or no.
- Downey?
- MAN: Yes.
HOST:
Yes, they are. Very indeed.
- (cheering)
- How about the next card?
(German accent):
Yes, darling.
Good answer, good answer.
Correct-a-mundo.
HOST:
Combine that with a ten,
and you would win the match
- and $2,500.
- (thumping)
PLUMBER:
Hot water's back.
Oh, darling, thank you.
(whispers):
Such a flash.
You got to answer
this question.
I've been freezing
my tush off for days.
I was boobing the tube.
No, thanks.
Go on.
We all deserve something sweet.
- He grew up to be president.
- (door opens)
- Downey.
- WOMAN: Jimmy Carter.
- HOST: Yes! Jimmy Carter.
- (door closes)
MAN:
Oh, good girl.
- (coughing)
- Good girl. Take it.
HOST:
All right. The next buys a ten.
- (coughing) - You've
got $2,500 in the match.
What is the card?
- (coughing, choking)
- (cheering)
(gasps)
Yahtzee!
(TV commercials playing faintly)
(Three's Company theme song
playing)
♪ Come and knock on our door ♪
(singing along):
♪ Come and knock on my door ♪
(on TV):
♪ We've been waitin' for you ♪
♪ We've been waitin'
for you ♪
(humming)
♪ Three's company, yes ♪
♪ Three's company, too. ♪
(vocalizing)
No!
(screaming)
Oh! No!
(whimpering)
Aah!
Aah! Help!
(screaming)
(wheezing) Help!
(coughing)
(screaming)
("Nobody Knows"
by Pastor T.I. Barrett playing)
♪ Nobody knows ♪
♪ Mmm ♪
♪ All the trouble I've seen ♪
♪ Nobody knows ♪
♪ Mmm ♪
♪ All the sorrow ♪
♪ Glory, glory ♪
♪ Mmm ♪
- ♪ Glory, hallelujah ♪
- Cock-a-doodle-do.
- ♪ Glory ♪
- ♪ Hmm ♪
- ♪ Glory ♪
- ♪ Let me tell you ♪
Mine's bigger.
♪ Glory, hallelujah ♪
♪ Nobody knows ♪
♪ Nobody
knows ♪
♪ Mmm, no, no, no ♪
♪ All the trouble I've seen. ♪
- MAN: Fucking Morris is back.
- MAN 2: Look who's back.
- The black Caped Crusader.
- (men laughing)
- MORRIS: Sir.
- Morris.
Look, I know it's early,
but, uh, I followed that lead.
The hooker in Hell's Kitchen.
She was turning tricks
for Mikey Tratioli.
- Genovese's body man.
- Jesus, Morris.
So she tells me Tratioli's
got issues in the bedroom,
a real floppy jalopy,
which leads me to believe
he's got one of them
insecure personalities,
you know? So I think
if we can get to Tratioli,
we can turn him easy.
Great, and after
we bust Genovese,
we can figure out who shot JFK.
Morris, you've been
with the Bureau for ten months.
It's 11 months, sir.
They see this Nancy Drew act,
you're gonna make it harder
on yourself than it already is.
And I want my own case.
And it can't be any harder
than it already is.
Okay.
You want your own case, Morris?
Tampa called this one in,
but they don't have
the manpower to handle.
A NASA scientist found dead
in her home at Cape Canaveral.
- Good night and good luck.
- There are 15 field offices
between here and Florida.
You just want me
out of your hair.
I'll get
on the next flight down.
Morris,
if you're itching
for some grand battle
between good and evil,
you ain't gonna find it here.
We're not soldiers,
we're not saints.
We're janitors is all.
The fate of all things
ain't resting on you.
NEWSMAN: Police have
released a sketch of the suspect
in the gruesome
robbery-homicide in D.C.
The sole survivor,
Under Secretary of State
Biff Simpson, has been upgraded
to stable condition.
A tragedy...
- CHEEKS: Jane.
- Jane, yep.
- Jane.
- Jane.
- Jane.
- Jane.
- Tarzan.
- Definitely Tarzan.
(growls à la Chewbacca)
What are you cocks
spazzing about?
Oh, well, we call "Jane"
if we think
the chick's squish mittens
are trimmed,
and then "Tarzan"
if it looks like her,
uh, Hairy Manilow's
an all-out pube jungle.
You guys are idiots.
We couldn't just leave you
cooped up in the house all day.
You got to at least try
to get your head off it, man.
You dig?
Yeah, and what better place
to do it than here
at Titty Beach?
Saw the motherfucker.
I saw him and I didn't do shit.
I just fucking stood there.
That piece of shit
had a gun, man.
He would've killed your ass.
It's not your fault.
The fuzz are on it, man.
- They'll find him.
- Cops won't find shit.
They've already forgotten
about it.
(man whistles)
(indistinct chatter)
MAN:
What do you want?
The Hell Devils,
they run the streets
from us to 112th, right?
Nothing goes down
without their knowing.
BOOTYHOLE:
Well, what's your point?
Maybe they know something.
CHEEKS:
Uh, and what? You're gonna ring
the fucking Hell Devils'
doorbell like the Avon Lady
- and just ask them?
- Yeah.
- You're coming with me.
- Aw, fuck,
no, man. If they see my fat ass,
they're gonna string me up
like an Easter ham.
So we bring protection.
The hell is that?
Some Jew sword?
The fuck your punk ass thinking,
that you some Charles Bronson
motherfucker now?
If you bring that
anywhere near the Hell Devils,
they're gonna circumcise you
for a second time, dude.
- For real.
- Just leave that shit at home.
- CHEEKS: Please.
- Fuck you guys.
- I'll do it myself.
- BOOTYHOLE: Jonah.
- Yo, Jonah. Come on, now.
- Come on, you're gonna get yourself killed.
(indistinct chatter)
♪ ♪
- Afternoon, gentlemen.
- MAN: Mm-hmm?
I'm looking
for a Detective Sommers.
- SOMMERS: Thank you...
- Right over there.
SOMMERS: If I need anything further,
I know where to find you.
You're Sommers?
(chuckles)
Agent Morris?
Shit. (chuckles)
Shaft and Foxy Brown.
We keep solving cases together,
they'll give us a sitcom.
- (chuckles)
- All right, let me see her.
So Gretel Fischer slips
in the tub,
and you guys call the FBI
to, what, hunt Mr. Clean?
(Sommers chuckles)
What, is this your first DOA?
It was making noises all night.
Go get some fresh air.
It looked like she slipped.
But the M.E. said it wasn't
the head wound that killed her.
Mm.
(exhales)
(quietly): Sorry.
(clears throat)
SOMMERS: It's like
she was trapped inside,
but there was no lock.
What are you doing?
Oh...
Let's see...
(exhales)
She was gassed.
(indistinct chatter)
(funk music playing on radio)
(dogs barking)
GANG LEADER: (whistles)
What the hell is this?
The fuck we got going on here,
Big Dude?
A... woman was shot and killed
the other night.
- 73rd Street.
- And so what?
You Pink Panther motherfucker
is here for revenge and shit?
She was my grandmother.
What'd you say?
She was my grandmother.
(chuckling)
Look, I know shit
doesn't go down under your nose
without you knowing.
And I know none of you
murder old ladies.
I just want you to find out
what asshole did this to her,
and... look, I'm... I'm willing
to make you a trade.
- Whoa. Whoa, whoa.
- GANG MEMBER: What's he got in that bag?
- Slow man, slow.
- For real.
- GANG LEADER: Let's see.
- (exhales)
GANG LEADER:
How much for, homie?
All of it.
I want a fucking name.
(siren blaring)
- Hey, let's go! Let's go!
- Go, go, go, go!
(gang members shouting)
- Police!
- Go, man, go!
- Shit!
- Aw, fuck.
SOMMERS:
Spoke to the super again.
He said that a company
by the name of Abraham & Sons
Plumbing came by yesterday.
Thing is, my boys checked.
There is no Abraham & Sons
Plumbing nowhere.
Doesn't exist.
Why the gas?
SOMMERS:
What do you mean?
I mean, if whoever did this
wanted her dead,
why go through
all the trouble?
All the risk? Creating
a fake plumbing company,
injecting gas into the pipes?
It all seems so purposeful.
So personal.
Call her kids. Family.
See if she had any enemies,
anything they could think
might want to hurt her.
I'll go to NASA in the morning.
See what they can tell me.
("Blue Bayou" by Roy Orbison
begins)
(bowling ball hitting pins)
- ♪ I feel so bad... ♪ - MAN: I mean,
my wrist was about to fall off.
I got the thumb working
in the front,
I got the forefinger
and the middle finger
working in the back
like I'm picking up
a seven-ten split. I mean,
like we say at the office,
- now I was gonna filibust all over her.
- (both men laughing)
- (slurping through straw)
- ♪ On Blue Bayou ♪
♪ I'm goin' back someday ♪
- ♪ Come what may... ♪
- Nines.
Oh, we're closing up
any minute.
- Nines.
- ♪ Where you sleep all day ♪
- ♪ And the catfish play ♪
- We're closing.
♪ On Blue Bayou ♪
Nines.
♪ Fishing boats
with their sails afloat ♪
Nines.
♪ That familiar sunrise ♪
Nines.
♪ How happy I'd be... ♪
(bowling pins crashing)
♪ Go to see my baby again ♪
♪ And to be with some
of my friends... ♪
"Are you my mother?"
You say something?
"'I'm not your mother.
"I am a dog, ' said the dog."
You're supposed
to pass the bill.
Who the hell are you?
Oh, Washington Post?
National Review?
Yeah. Well, listen good,
you Peter Parker pig fuck,
there are three things
I hold sacred: Jesus,
pussy, and Groovy Gutterball
Championship League
Bowling Night,
and if you think
that I'm gonna...
Are You My Mother?
He loves that book,
Dick Jr.
Your wife was asleep,
and I saw his night-light on.
"'Are you my mother?'
the baby bird asked a cow.
"'How could I be your mother?
"I am a cow.'
"'Are you my mother?'
"'No. No, I'm not your mother.
"I'm the man
who'll cut your throat
"unless your father
changes his vote
and does what we
paid him to do.'"
TERRY:
Dick, this guy bothering you?
Am I bothering you, Dick?
Listen, ass-munch, I don't know
who the fuck you think you are.
We got a problem?
What the fuck?
(shouting)
I know you'll keep tonight
between us,
make sure your boys
keep their mouths shut.
Otherwise, I can keep
their mouths shut for them.
Please, no,
we-we'll-we'll keep quiet.
Dick Jr. asked
if I was the monster
under his bed.
He said he was sure
there was a monster
living there,
but every time you would
go in to check...
under the bed, in the closet...
you could never see it.
Tell me, Congressman,
do you see me now?
DETECTIVE GROTON:
Mr. Offerman put up your bond, son.
$1,200.
You're free to go, for now.
His driver's waiting
outside for you.
(sighs)
I wasn't there to sell.
I know why you were there.
This has to stop now,
before you get hurt.
Leave the detective work to us.
Detective work
would be realizing
that the pattern
of the locations
of your mystery rapist's crimes
fits the A35 bus route
to a T,
so he must be taking
that bus line
to his victims' apartments.
Detective work
would be finding
who killed my grandma.
You're not doing detective work.
All you're doing
is sitting around
circle jerking to police
sketches of Son of Sam.
Don't let me keep you
from busting a nut.
Holy balls.
He's expecting you.
Well, I never.
Holy mackerel, I don't know
how you boys do it.
Doc, it's a masterpiece.
Good work.
"And God appointed a great fish
"to swallow Jonah up.
"And out of the belly of Hell,
Jonah cried
and God did hear his voice."
You should read the Torah more.
It is the original comic book.
- How are you?
- I'm fine.
Your face still looks like shit.
- At least mine will heal.
- You will h... Uh, yeah.
Well, you didn't tell me
you were Bruce Wayne rich.
Well...
What are you doing with this
Hell Devils? What is that?
Please, can we...
- Does that seem wise?
- I'm gonna pay you back,
- every single penny of my bail.
- What? No.
- I don't want your money, please. Ugh. No.
- Just don't give me a speech.
I forgive the loan
in its entirety.
All I want from you
is the thrill
of besting a Torah-ignorant punk
in a chess match.
What do you say?
You know, there was
a very famous prisoner
in Auschwitz
named Markus Roth.
He was the Bobby Fischer
of Germany.
And as fate would have it,
one of the Nazi guards,
a sadistic man named
Heinz Richter,
he had always aspired
to be a great chess player, too,
but for years, in tournaments,
he was, he was trounced
by the chess-playing Jew,
who was now his prisoner.
Now, one morning in the camps,
Richter rounded up Markus
and 32 others,
marched them into the woods.
Each day, more prisoners
were led into those same woods.
One morning,
your safta's younger sister
was taken.
Your safta,
foolish and fearless,
was determined
to rescue her dear Chava,
so we snuck into the dark woods
after them.
And? What did you see?
- Well, in a small clearing...
- (man speaking German)
...Richter had constructed
a human chessboard.
(woman screaming, crying)
On those squares
stood the prisoners...
...each one with a blade.
Richter commanded the black,
forced Markus to play
with the white.
Bishop...
to E3.
I'm sorry, Chava.
(crying)
Chava!
(shouting in German)
Chava didn't fare well.
After seven days
of this torture,
Markus Roth grabbed a blade,
tried to kill
the barbarous Heinz Richter.
Markus, of course,
was shot dead,
but not before
he gave Richter a scar
across his throat
in the shape of an "X."
Markus never lost
one match, however.
Not one.
Perhaps we can take
some solace in that.
What I'd give to have killed
those motherfuckers.
Your grandmother never told you
of such stories?
Of our history? No?
You rich folks have the luxury
of living in the past.
Rest of us can only afford
the present.
The past is all there is, Jonah,
repeating over and over again,
with new players of new times
hoping for a different outcome.
Checkmate.
(laughs)
In only two moves.
What, uh, what is this?
Yeah, I call it beating an
old man's ass at his own game.
You're what they call
"a little shit," aren't you?
- You want to play another...?
- The telephone is for you.
It's the mayor's office.
I should just be a moment.
Continue without me.
Probably win that, too.
Very good.
(film reel clicking)
Ah, what a fucking weirdo.
♪ ♪
(clicking)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
- It's bad manners...
- What the fuck is this?
...to venture around a man's
home without an invitation.
Is this him? Did you find
the fucker that did this to her?
You need to leave.
You found him.
How? The cops didn't have shit.
You think the cops
care about some old Jew?
Who is he?
Go home. Read the Talmud.
Living well is the best revenge.
- No. No, no, no! Tell me who he is.
- Go back home...
- And who are you?
- I have a fucking right to know!
Tell me right now.
What are you, one of your
masked, caped shvantzes
from your cartoons? No.
You are a boy.
You are a child
who could do nothing
to stop the killer in his home.
Who did nothing
to save his grandmother.
That's who you are.
Jonah! Stop!
(panting)
Hey, I'll, uh...
(sniffles)
I'll have a chicken noodle
and an Old Chicago.
(indistinct chatter)
WOMAN: ...because
they-they fell on their heads.
Right into you... and that's
the point of the game.
I don't understand the point
of the game. All these men...
♪ ♪
Hey. Excuse me, what is this?
- I ordered the chicken soup.
- Yeah, that's what that is.
This is not chicken soup.
- I want chicken soup.
- Well, I don't know what to tell you.
- That's what it is.
- I want the fucking chicken soup!
What the fuck
is wrong with you?
I want hers!
I want her... hers.
(crying)
I want her.
MAN:
We never met a sweeter woman
or a more brilliant scientist.
An unparalleled genius,
Gretel was.
Our hearts weep.
MORRIS: Did you notice
anything strange before her death?
Was she, I don't know,
was she acting strange
or suspicious or worried?
Anyone at work bothering her?
No. No, she kept
to herself, mostly.
- Spent weekends at the lab.
- She was a workaholic.
And what exactly did
Dr. Fischer do for you?
Gretel was a chemist.
Her research developed
the rocket fuel
that carried our boys
to the moon.
And she started at NASA in '48?
Yes. '48 or '49.
I remember when she came in.
She survived the war in Germany.
And here she was,
living the American Dream.
And what was she working on now?
MAN:
Dr. Fischer was...
working on a chemical solution
that would heighten
our astronauts' tolerance
of g-force from 16 to 30,
highly theoretical work.
That was completed back in 1954
when John Stapp harnessed
nearly 46 Gs in the
U.S. Air Force tests, no?
Sir, I'm not interviewing you
for Reader's Digest.
This is an FBI investigation
into the death
of one of your employees.
So you lie to me again
and I'll rip every hair
of that schnoz forest
out your nose
until you tell me
what I want to know.
Agent Morris,
if you would like to discuss
Dr. Fischer's
classified research,
we will gladly do so
on receipt of a warrant.
Short of that,
we have nothing more to add.
We don't respond to threats.
Least of all
from some broad like you.
(chair scrapes)
See her out.
All right. "Some broad like me."
Fuck you.
I've devoted my entire life
to science,
the search for truth.
And truth matters now
more than ever.
What-what are... what truth?
You aren't the first to ask
questions about Gretel Fischer.
Find the first and you'll find
what you're looking for.
No, wait.
What are you talking about?
The Russians used to send each
of their cosmonauts into space
with a sawed-off shotgun.
It wasn't for protection
against aliens.
Nothing ridiculous like that.
It was because
on their return to Earth,
if they landed off course,
they'd have to hike
hundreds of miles
through the Siberian tundra
and they needed protection
against the bears
and the wolves.
When you land, Agent Morris,
and you will,
you won't be in the tundra,
but if I were you,
I, too, would carry protection.
For where you're going,
there'll be bears
and there'll be wolves.
- (rap song playing)
- (train clacking, squealing)
♪ ♪
♪ Party got started
about an hour ago ♪
♪ You know where it's gonna be,
find the door ♪
♪ Upstairs and
in the basement, too ♪
♪ All the ladies in the house
getting in the groove ♪
♪ And outside,
if you need some air ♪
♪ And everybody's getting down
like they just don't care... ♪
(rap song fades)
♪ ♪
(muttering):
Red Balloon, Red Balloon...
♪ ♪
(door bells jingle)
(door bells jingle)
- (grunts softly)
- GIRL: Maybe they have it.
- (door bells jingle)
- GIRL 2: Ask him.
Mister, do you have
the Superstar Barbie in stock?
We should be getting more in
next week.
I'll save one just for you,
darling.
(door bells jingle)
Can I help you, son?
Son?
♪ ♪
Son?
You. You.
- No, please.
- You.
- Just take the money.
- You killed her.
- You fucking killed her, I know you did.
- Take what you want.
- No, I not done nothing.
- I know you did it!
What?
What are you talking about?
- I didn't kill anyone.
- Don't fucking lie to me.
No, please.
- I didn't kill no one.
- No, I saw you.
I saw you.
- Just take the money.
- I saw you.
- Just take the...
- I saw your car.
I don't have a car!
Please, please,
just take the money.
- Fuck.
- Please. Please.
Please.
(sobbing):
Please.
Just take the money.
Richter.
(electricity zaps)
(grunts)
(object clatters on floor)
♪ ♪
(whimpers)
(muffled shouting)
You Jews are always the best
to play our games with.
(muffled shouting continues)
You know why?
(panting)
Because you know what it is
to play for your life.
(whimpers)
I wish I could have played with
your grandmother for hours more.
It was a shame.
(whimpering)
But...
now you are going to tell me
what she would not.
(whimpering)
Ow! Fucker!
You motherfucking piece of shit.
Ah! Ow!
Why was she looking for me?
L-Look... looking,
looking for-for-for you?
I-I don't, I don't know
what you're talking...
No! (yells)
- (panting)
- Who was she working for?
- Mossad?
- What?
Wiesenthal? The Soviets?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Ow!
She wasn't working for anybody.
- She wasn't...
- How did she find me?
She wasn't working for anybody,
I'm telling you.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Please let me go.
You fucking monster,
I'll kill you.
Ow!
Ah, ah, ow!
(yelling)
No, you won't.
You Jews,
you think you know how to kill
because for eons
you've been massacred.
But you don't see the cows
running the slaughterhouses,
do you?
(panting)
Come.
Moo for me, boy.
(panting)
Moo.
(lowing):
Moo.
(Richter groans mockingly)
Now...
are you going to tell me
what I need to know,
or should I aim for your eyes?
(knocking on door)
- (Jonah whimpers)
- We're closed!
Help, help, help. Help!
- Help! Help! Please, help!
- We're closed!
Help!
Help! Please!
(knocking continues)
(muffled):
Help! Help!
(panting)
- (muffled sobbing)
- (knocking continues)
RICHTER:
I'm coming!
- (knocking continues)
- I'm coming.
- (door creaks open)
- We had to close early today.
WOMAN:
I just need to get
- a gift for my daughter.
- (grunts)
Get your little one
something special tomorrow.
(lock clacks)
♪ ♪
(cries out)
- (Richter yelling)
- (whimpering)
(doorknob rattling)
Help! Help! Help!
- Somebody open...
- (Richter yelling)
Help! Help!
(both grunting)
(Jonah panting)
(gasping)
(Jonah panting)
(straining)
(grunting)
(cries out)
You mistook us for pawns.
When all this time,
we've been kings.
This is for Markus.
And for Chava.
For Ruth.
What the fuck?
What the fuck? What the fuck?
Well, Scooby-Dooby,
this is one monster
that need not be unmasked.
(panting)
Ah, fuck.
Jesus, fuck.
Here. Jonah, Jonah,
it's all right.
It's all right.
- Jonah.
- Ah. Ow.
Calm, calm. It's all right.
I see it. I see it.
- Here it is, it's in this place.
- Who are you?
- Who the fuck are you? CIA?
- Just press.
- Huh? Mossad?
- Press.
Oh, kindelah, no.
I work only for myself.
Though I suppose I represent
six million clients.
(panting): Why was he saying
she was after him?
Because she was.
We both were.
(papers shuffling)
You know that photograph
you stole from me?
Your grandmother took it
the day before she died.
She would never let us pursue
anyone without her verification.
Pursue?
Pursue who?
Nazis, Jonah.
Goddamn gold-ribbon,
grade "A" Nazis.
Nazis?
Yes.
The war's over.
Only the dead know
the end of war.
I tried to keep you away
from it.
Your grandmother wished
to protect you from it.
From what?
The Hunt, Jonah.
The Hunt. Come.
Let's go.
What the fuck is The Hunt?
♪ ♪
(door creaks)
(music box playing)
(chair creaking)
(exhales)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
NEWSMAN (over TV): In other
news out of the nation's capital,
Congressman Dick Marshall
has changed his stance
and will now vote
to repeal sanctions
on South American nations,
allowing the bill to pass
in the House
as it heads
to the Senate floor.
Keep it right here
on this news station
for all the late-breaking
details.
I'm Logan Crawford, reporting.
When you don't separate
the whites from the colors...
...the colors always bleed.
♪ ♪
(telephone ringing)
(telephone continues ringing)
BIFF (over phone):
You did good.
The Colonel wishes to meet you.
Me?
MEYER:
A year ago, your safta
came to me in a panic.
We hadn't seen one another
in 30 years.
So, one morning, at the market,
she told me she noticed a man
picking cantaloupes.
She recognized him
as a Nazi doctor
from Auschwitz.
A man who would rip out
every tooth from a child's mouth
just for sport.
And there he stood,
a free man in America.
He had been a pediatrician
on Long Island
for d-decades.
Ruth discovered his sister,
a Nazi chemist...
she also escaped here.
We believed that these two vile
creatures were in our midst,
so we thought there could be
others here.
- Did you tell the authorities?
- Well, we tried, but...
We went through
all the proper channels, so...
law enforcement,
the courts, INS.
But whether out of incompetence,
ignorance, or animus,
we were laughed at.
They didn't believe us.
So I took the matter
to the senators I knew,
the congressmen
who I got elected,
but they ignored me.
No one cares
to stake their reputation
on investigating
some Jew killers.
So, with nowhere else to turn,
we made a vow.
We would find
these criminals ourselves...
...and bring God's justice
to their doorstep.
You mean murder them.
Murder?
No. No, Jonah.
This is not murder.
Before Jews even existed,
hatred and slaughter
waited for us.
For thousands of years,
from Masada to Munich,
we have been massacred.
Pharaohs and popes and princes
and popular votes
calling for our blood.
Now?
We survive the war,
we survive the greatest
mass eradication
in modern history,
and we arrive home to find
that the people
who did this to us,
they're our neighbors.
So tell me, what should we do?
Shake hands?
Turn a blind eye?
Forget? No, no.
The greatest single gift
of the Jewish people
is our capacity...
our capacity to remember.
And it's because of our memory
that we know this is survival.
This is not murder.
This is mitzvah.
The man from the market...
became our first.
Heinz is number seven.
We number our kills.
Eye for eye.
Jonah, this is not because
we want for this.
Because we have no choice.
We must instill fear...
send a message.
Let them know...
not again.
No more.
No more, Jonah.
Nip it in the bud.
Who is that? The Wolf?
The Nazi doctor from Auschwitz.
The monster of my story.
Still haunts me to this day.
The Talmud is wrong.
Living well is not
the best revenge.
You know what
the best revenge is?
Revenge.
I want in.
I want in.
Your grandmother protected you
from all this.
She risked her life
so you could live out yours.
She's dead because of me.
I will regret that
for the rest of my life.
I have to do this.
I can't allow it.
No, it's my right.
It's my choice.
I found him.
I did.
You found what I could not.
You found what I could not.
Your grandmother said,
"A brilliant mind...
from God, a gift."
But you followed
in her footsteps today.
You held her dagger.
You did her work.
Your grandmother wished
to protect you from The Hunt,
but it appears we cannot
protect The Hunt from you.
Ah, f... I miss her.
(sighs)
- I miss her so much.
- It's okay.
I miss her, too.
(indistinct voices)
What is that?
What is that?
Oh...
you didn't think Ruth and I
could do this alone, did you?
You all remember Jonah.
Well, now, fill our glasses.
JONAH:
So we bring protection.
CHEEKS: The hell is that,
some Jew sword?
MEYER:
We have a fresh kill to toast.
Then you should have hired
a fucking babysitter.
I'm not working late again
for this shit.
♪ ♪
That's fucking Lonny Flash.
JONAH:
Shut your gefilte-fish-stinking
fat fucking mouth.
(door opens, slams shut)
With Ruth gone, someone had
to look after you.
To Ruth.
ALL:
To Ruth.
MEYER:
We have trials ahead,
a growing list of vermin.
So... let us get to cooking
these Nazi cunts.
(exhales)
♪ ♪
(insects trilling)
Herr Colonel?
Frau Colonel.
You expected a man, didn't you?
Well, jeepers creepers,
I'm a dame.
We've had many good soldiers
through the years...
...but we've been following you
since Skokie, child.
And you are on track
for true Bedeutung.
The congressman passed the bill.
The solution will be on its way
from South America shortly.
Wonderful, Colonel.
I believe you're ready
for much more, son.
I have another task for you.
Two of our people
have been murdered...
under mysterious circumstances
in just the past month alone.
Whoever is behind this needs
to be found and dealt with.
I need you to unravel
that little mystery.
Of course, ma'am.
We are on the eve
of the Final War.
(chuckles)
And all of America,
all of the world,
shall be brought to their knees.
It begins now.
What begins now?
The Fourth Reich.
(laughs)
(laughs)
Heil Hitler.
- Sieg heil.
- Sieg heil.
Heil Hitler.
Sieg heil.
Sieg heil.
(woman eerily vocalizing)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
BIFF (Southern accent):
And I says to him,
"Never again, Mr. President,
can we let the Chinese motorboat
our tits like that."
I says, "Who's negotiating
your treaties?"
Jimmy looks at me with that
peanut farmer grin of his
and says,
"Biff, you are now, friend,
"but don't you ever talk
about motorboating titties
in front
of the First Lady again."
(laughter)
Rosalynn blushes
every time she sees Biff.
(Biff laughs)
Dad, he's doing it again!
Biff Jr., kiddo,
lay off your sister,
or no Six Million Dollar Man
tonight, you hear me?
Your new boss lives here?
When you're
the Under Secretary of State,
I imagine the world's
your oyster, hon.
(chuckles) There's nothing
to be nervous about.
It's Biff Simpson, hon.
He decides if I sink
or swim this year.
You're Carl Hirsch, sweetheart.
He's lucky to even wade
in the same pond as you.
- (laughs)
- BIFF: Hirsch.
- You made it, my friend.
- Wouldn't miss it, sir.
"Sir" is for Foggy Bottom.
In my castle, I'm Biff.
Wow. Well, okay, then, Biff.
Oh. This here's my wife Helen.
Helen. What a beauty.
(chuckles):
Geez, Hirsch.
- (purring sound)
- (laughter)
You win her
on Let's Make a Deal?
This is my new associate
I was telling you all about.
Just moved down here
from Boston.
Can I get you kids a wet one?
I'll take a Schlitz
if you got. Hon?
("Night Moves" by Bob Seger
playing)
Thanks. That's great.
♪ Oh, no problem... ♪
- Hon?
- (quietly): You. It's you.
- It's you.
- Hon, what's-what's going on?
It's him.
(speaking Polish)
The Butcher. The Butcher.
It's the Butcher.
- Hon.
- BIFF (chuckles): Well.
Gosh darn, Hirsch.
You didn't tell me your wife
was one of them vegetarians.
- (laughter)
- The Butcher of Arlav.
The Butcher of Arlav!
Call the police.
Call the police.
- Hey. Hey.
- It's Muller.
- Please. Please call the police!
- Helen, what on earth?
- Hon, what's going on?
- I think she's having some kind of episode.
Hirsch, maybe she wants
to lie down in the family room?
No. I remember you.
I remember your face.
Why isn't anyone...?
Please, please, he-he...
(speaking Polish)
- He slaughter... he slaughtered my whole family.
- You're scaring the kids, doll.
- Mrs. Simpson, I'm so sorry.
- He killed my whole family.
- Hey, Helen...
- He slaughtered them. He killed them all!
Geez, oh, man, this is, this is
really something, Hirsch.
- TRINITY: Dad? Dad?
- And in my own gosh darn home.
- I think I'd like you to leave now.
- HELEN: Stop him!
Halt im! Nazi!
Stop him! Stop him! Nazi!
- BIFF JR.: What's going on?
- Halt im!
- TRINITY: Daddy?
- HELEN: Stop him!
- BIFF JR.: Dad?
- Nazi!
(screaming)
- (silenced gunshots)
- HIRSCH: Mr. Simp...
Wait, what are you doing?
What is happening? Mr. Simpso...
No! Mr. Simps...
(screaming)
(German accent):
30 years of work that was.
- (crying, hyperventilating)
- An entire life built.
Marrying that American pig.
Siring three tainted swine.
How long I'd wanted
to snap their little necks.
Well, their blood
is on your hands, my girl.
Leave it to the Jew
to think only
of its own pathetic existence.
You thought the war was over?
No, dear.
Only the dead know
the end of war.
We're here now.
Everywhere.
We... we survived.
And we'll survive again.
You didn't survive.
You marinated.
I'm so glad I didn't gas you
in the camps.
This is so much more delicious.
And what a hungry boy I've been.
What hungry boys and girls
we've all been.
Heil Mein Fuhrer.
(speaks Polish)
Sieg heil!
- (silenced gunshot)
- (body falls)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
(laughter)
(indistinct chatter)
CHEEKS:
Nah, it was good.
It's just, why the hell does
Darth Vader got to be black?
BOOTYHOLE: He-He's not black,
Cheeks, he's-he's a Dark Lord.
- Oh, a Dark Lord?
- Yeah.
Dude's got a black suit,
dude's got a black mask.
And last time I checked,
James Earl Jones
is sure as shit a brother.
We're always
the motherfucking villain, man.
- And you know what? I see it.
- Oh, here we go.
You think Vader's
the villain, though?
- Yeah.
- Are you serious, Jonah?
Every time Vader
came on the screen,
Bootyhole pissed
his husky boy pants.
Oh, fuck you, okay? Darth Vader
killed tons of people.
Look, Vader did some bad shit.
I'm not saying that,
not denying that.
Darth Vader wasn't
born Darth Vader.
For all we know,
he was born Chad Rubenstein.
Asthmatic,
premature-ejaculating...
- Chad Rubenstein?
- ...good-hearted loser.
- And he can talk about losers.
- And...
like every kid
in the Galactic Empire,
he was conditioned to believe
that some evil Jedi rebels
from some desert shithole were
gonna come bomb his parents,
behead his friends, kidnap
all the hot Galactic chicks
for lightsaber orgies.
Vader doesn't get up...
(car horn honks)
...every day looking to destroy
the galaxy.
No, no. He gets up every morning
believing he needs to save it.
Yeah, but he's-he's still
a murderer, dude.
- Exactly.
- So is Batman, Booty.
- Oh...
- So is fucking Batman.
He hanged a mental patient
from the Batplane.
He-he crushed a guy's guts out
with a car compactor.
Superman's slaughtered cities.
G... uh, Green Lantern
took out a planet.
Uh, Orion the Space Slayer
fucking leveled
a goddamn solar system.
The only difference
between a hero and a villain
is who sells more costumes
on Halloween.
Damn, how much of your Cheech
you Chong, jiggy?
You know, I'd save some of that
for your customers.
No, no, no.
Chewbacca's like this.
(growls à la Chewbacca)
(others imitating growl)
(indistinct chatter)
♪ I can tell by... ♪
- Hey, Carol.
- Hey, Jonah.
♪ You got what it takes,
come on now ♪
♪ Baby, baby... ♪
Circle jerk run late, fuckheads?
BOOTYHOLE: Well,
we kept picturing your face
and none of us could come.
(laughs softly)
You think you're funny,
you fat shit?
Could hear the fucking nerd
mating call from down the block.
First time, huh, Heidel-bitch?
Jesus, it's like doing
a fucking heroin deal
with Mr. fucking Rogers.
Come on.
Show me what you got.
Uh, yeah. Right.
- Sell me on it.
- (stifled laugh in distance)
S-Se-Sell you?
(dog barking in distance)
Uh... (stammers) Yeah, man,
look, I-I'd try to sell you
on it, but that'd be like...
like Buddha trying to hawk you
a timeshare in Nirvana.
Ooh. Tagline and everything.
Okay, look,
I do $15 per quarter.
Jew gets right
to the bottom dollar, huh?
(jocks snickering)
Just give me
two ounces, shit-tard.
Okay, yep. That's, uh, $120.
I'll give you $60.
(jocks laughing)
CAROL:
Dennis, stop. Come on.
JONAH:
Uh, no. Uh, look,
- I said it's $120, it's $120.
- I don't think that you're understanding me.
- No. This isn't a negotiation.
- And I don't speak little bitch.
So let me translate.
- Dennis. Dennis, stop. Come on.
- Come on.
Give me my,
give me my shit back.
Aw, you putting on
a show for Carol
so she can see you
act all tough? I mean,
you've had a hard-on
for her for years, haven't you?
Guess what. She is never gonna
suck your tiny kosher wiener,
- Art Gar-fuck-el.
- CAROL: Are you kidding me?
Give me my, give me my shit.
What the fuck
are you gonna do, kike?
- JOCK: He's gonna cry.
- (laughter)
- Give me my fucking bag back.
- No, no...
- No. No, Dennis, stop. Stop.
- BOOTYHOLE: Get the fuck off, dude.
What are you doing, asshole?
Get off me, man.
- As soon as this little Jew bitch quits begging for more.
- Stop. No. No!
Get off of me!
Step the fuck off.
Dennis. Stop.
Just leave... Dennis.
Stop. Enough.
(panting):
Stop. Stop. Stop.
BOOTYHOLE:
Dennis, this is not cool, man.
CAROL:
You're an asshole, Dennis.
Carol.
- Carol.
- You're a fucking asshole!
Stop.
- Hey, you okay?
- Yeah, I'm fine.
REPORTER (over radio):
...warning everyone to lock their doors.
I'll see you guys.
With the Son of Sam killer
still terrorizing New York...
(piano playing)
RUTH:
Jonah?
It's just me, Safta. I hung
around for the double feature.
Did your black eye and bloody
lip hang around, too, darling?
(sighs)
JONAH:
It looks worse than it is.
RUTH:
I'm thinking you need a stitch.
JONAH:
No. No, I won't.
- RUTH: I don't know.
- It's fine. Trust me.
- It looks bad.
- Looks worse.
Go on. Eat some of this.
It heals all aches of the body
and all matters of the soul.
Hmm.
That's some Walt Whitman shit
right there.
You should write that down
in one of your cookbooks.
How'd you know?
I'm your safta.
I know everything.
And Mrs. Schlosstein saw you
walking on Avenue J.
She gave me a call right away.
Mm, the bubbeleh bat phone.
You think you're a big man
for getting in a fight?
I was just defending myself.
Oh, don't touch,
don't touch, don't touch.
I'll get a bandage.
- (rustling)
- RUTH: What?
- What is this?
- Hmm?
- A drug dealer? A criminal?
- Oh, shit.
Safta.
- How could you?
- Please.
- Please...
- How could you?
This puts food
on our table, okay?
This puts a roof over our heads.
I would rather starve
on the street
than have my grandson be a thug.
Everything I do is for you.
You think I want to be
doing this?
You don't think I want to be
at some WASP college
we can't afford actually
making something of myself?
I do this so we can survive.
Look. You were meant
for more than this.
A brilliant mind.
You see things no one else can.
It's a gift from God,
and this is how you use it?
To put this chazerai out
into the world?
Ah, you're worried about
the world. Well, the world
sure as shit's
not worried about us.
Everything you do, it's a choice
between licht un finster.
Light or darkness.
You must choose well.
Sometimes when you're
trying to survive,
you don't have a choice.
- There's always a choice.
- (gasps softly)
Safta.
- Safta, I'm...
- I love you.
I love you the most.
Everything I'm doing is for you.
You'll see soon enough.
♪ You are what you perceive ♪
♪ What comes is better ♪
♪ Than what came before... ♪
♪ ♪
MAN:
How you doing, Carol...?
CAROL:
Okay, thanks.
♪ Ba-ba-ba-ba, ba-ba-ba-ba ♪
♪ Ba-ba-ba-ba ♪
♪ Ba-ba-ba ♪
♪ And you better come ♪
♪ Come-come, come to me ♪
♪ Come-come,
come to me ♪
♪ Better come ♪
♪ Come-come, come to me ♪
♪ Ba-ba-ba-ba ♪
♪ Ba. ♪
(glass shatters)
- MAN: How did you find me?
- (clattering)
- (Ruth speaks indistinctly)
- I won't ask you again.
RUTH:
You will be brought to justice.
MAN:
How did you find me?
RUTH:
Go ahead, shoot, shoot.
I am not afraid.
- You can't hide.
- (cheering over TV)
You can't hide.
- You can't...
- (gunshot)
(door slams)
Safta!
Safta, Safta, what...?
Oh, Jesus.
Safta, hey, stay with me,
stay with me.
Stay... Help!
Help! Help!
(panting):
Oh, fuck.
Oh, fuck.
- (clattering)
- Help!
Help, somebody! Help!
- Please, call an ambulance!
- (phone clangs, dial spins)
451373rd Street,
there's been a shooting.
Please, please come.
(whimpers)
Safta, Safta, Safta, stay awake.
Stay with me.
Please, please. Oh, God.
Stay with me, stay with me.
Stay with me, please.
- Help! Help!
- (Ruth whimpers)
It's okay, stay with me.
Stay with me.
No, no, no, no, no.
Oh, no. No.
No, no.
(sobbing)
Please. (sniffles)
(sobbing continues)
♪ ♪
- Jonah...
- MAN: NYPD.
Come on, Jonah.
Let me get you
another shirt, son.
I don't want another shirt.
I've been here
for fucking hours,
I just want to know
what you found.
It looks like a robbery
gone wrong.
But at the moment,
we don't got much to go on.
I-I t... I told you,
he was wearing black.
He had a hat on.
He left down the-the, uh,
the alleyway and-and...
Fucking damn it. What fucking
information do you need?
She-she shouted at him, she
said, "You can't fucking hide."
Jonah, I can't put out
a city-wide...
- She said, "You can't fucking hide."
- I can't. Jonah, listen to me.
I can't put out a city-wide
looking for a man
in a black hat.
I'm going to see that everything
we can do gets done, okay?
But it's gonna take some time.
The city's at war, son.
Sequence killers, the sex
peddlers, drug runners, I...
- (pounds table)
- Our boys are spread thin.
But I won't let up.
I promise.
♪ Mein ♪
♪ Lieber herr ♪
♪ Farewell, mein lieber herr ♪
♪ It was a fine affair ♪
♪ But now it's over ♪
♪ And though I used to care ♪
♪ I need the open air ♪
♪ You're better off without me,
mein herr ♪
(phone ringing)
♪ Don't dab your eye,
mein herr ♪
♪ Or wonder why, mein herr ♪
♪ I've always said
that I was a rover ♪
♪ We mustn't... ♪
(phone ringing)
(faintly): ♪ You'd every cause
to doubt me, mein herr... ♪
MAN (over phone):
17 Washington Lane.
Chevy Chase, Maryland.
Understood.
♪ Not only up and down,
but side to side, mein... ♪
- ♪ Oh, yeah ♪
- (fly buzzing)
♪ Come on ♪
(mumbles):
25.
(faintly):
♪ Let's go fishing, baby ♪
♪ In the park ♪
♪ Let's go fishing, baby ♪
♪ When it gets dark ♪
♪ Leave all your friends
behind ♪
♪ I'll leave all of mine ♪
♪ We'll get together, girl ♪
♪ And have a good time ♪
♪ In the park... ♪
BIFF (Southern accent):
Took you long enough.
I've been waiting all night.
Eh, do you know
a four-letter word
for "bovine," exclamation?
What?
They would have blown my cover.
30 years I spent infiltrating
this swamp:
D.C. strip clubs, Senate
cloakrooms, the Oval Office.
And now, just weeks
after our breakthrough,
you think I'd allow it all to be
undone by a Juden cockroach?
♪ Onto mine... ♪
Did I create unwanted noise?
Sure. But Uncle Sam won't
suspect a thing.
Hell, I could goose-step
the Electric Slide
on the National Mall,
they wouldn't add it up.
These fools are too busy
believing their own people
are the enemy;
they've blinded themselves
to us.
Offer up a black man to blame,
you can get away
with anything in America.
The neighbors didn't
hear anything.
The jewelry's in the bedroom.
Oh, and with me dealing
with this shit,
you need to pay Congressman
Dick Marshall a visit.
This is what he needs to do.
Make sure he does it.
The Colonel made clear there's
no room for failure.
So don't fuck up.
Understand?
♪ Talkin' 'bout the park,
mama! ♪
♪ Talkin' 'bout the park, baby ♪
♪ Talkin' 'bout the park,
baby... ♪
Uh, how about the left arm?
So I can still... you know.
♪ In the dark, yeah... ♪
With my right.
Heck else am I gonna do
in the hospital for a week?
(Biff groans)
Oh!
(groaning)
(straining):
Fuck. Ah!
(exhales)
(Biff panting)
(groans)
♪ Come on ♪
♪ All right. ♪
(rabbi praying in Hebrew)
(prayer continues)
♪ ♪
(prayer continues)
♪ ♪
(rabbi's voice echoing)
♪ ♪
Jonah, only immediate family
is supposed to sit shiva.
- Is that right, Mrs. Schlosstein?
- Mm.
Well, if...
my safta's parents
weren't shot in the ghetto...
sister wasn't killed
in the camps,
her husband didn't die in Korea,
and her only kid
didn't bleed out having me...
then they'd be here instead.
I'm all she had in this world,
so I'm sitting for them.
So why don't you shut
your gefilte-fish-stinking
fat fucking mouth?
(chatter in distance)
(dog barking)
(exhales)
(door creaks open)
(speaking Yiddish)
"In a world of diarrhea
and constipation,
it's okay to be a normal
piece of shit sometimes."
(Jonah sighs)
Besides, Moira Schlosstein
had it coming.
Meyer Offerman.
My deepest sorrows
about your grandmother.
Ah.
How many broads I've been with.
(Meyer chuckles)
Laughter is good medicine
in the worst of times.
Your grandmother taught me that.
How'd you know my grandmother?
Your safta and I were
in the camps together.
In fact, I owe my life to her.
She didn't talk
about the camps much.
What is there to talk about?
Hmm?
(Jonah sighs)
She lives through all that
just to be shot
in her living room
by a fucking burglar.
Well, did-did you happen
to hear his voice?
C-Catch his face?
No.
There are street lamps
down that alley, no?
Did you see anything at all?
H-How did you know he came in
through the alley?
Well, noticed that...
that the back door
was boarded up.
So...
I suppose I watch too much Kojak
in my old age.
A potato of the couch.
"You can't hide.
You can't hide.
You can't hide."
That's what she said to him
right before he killed her.
"You can't hide."
And it just... it sounded...
it sounded like she knew him.
- It sounded...
- Personal.
Yeah.
I suppose every murder
is personal.
Oh. I'm sorry.
I am sorry.
(woman speaks Hebrew)
Well, I'm sure
the police are on it.
Wise that we let them
do their work.
Your grandmother was a fighter.
And I trust
it courses through your veins
as well as hers.
But if you ever need anything...
money, assistance,
anything at all...
you come to me.
This is not charity.
It's a debt I owe her.
You know,
you have an intimate
relationship with death.
But know it not to be a curse
but a blessing.
One that will bring you
closer to life.
As the Talmud tells us,
"Living well
is the best revenge."
I hope I see you again.
(car horn honks)
(children laughing, shouting)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
RUTH:
September 5, 1941.
It was chaos,
chaos in the ghetto.
(guns popping)
- (woman screams)
- (indistinct shouting)
(woman calling out)
(dog barking furiously)
They beat our pregnant,
ravaged our children,
stole our lives.
(man calling out)
They tried to kill
the very thing that made us us,
so that we should
look to the sky
and not see God,
but see shum da-var...
nothing.
- (screaming)
- (baby wailing)
I searched for my family
until I saw them.
My mother, shot dead,
in my father's arms...
...even as he, too,
called out to the sky.
- Papa!
- Shum da-var...
RUTH:
Shum da-var. Nothing.
- (soldier shouts in German)
- And then he came.
- (grunts)
- Papa!
Meyer was his name.
He saved my life that night.
Papa!
(screams)
I don't know what was worse...
to see that the Nazis
had killed my father,
or to see
that they had killed God.
YOUNG RUTH:
Papa!
RUTH: But for the
first time in my life,
I wished to kill.
I wished to kill them all.
(sniffles)
♪ ♪
- (seagulls crying)
- WOMAN (on TV): Marilu Henner.
HOST:
That's right, Marilu Henner
is the answer
we're looking for,
and you have the nine
if you'd like it.
WOMAN:
I'll take the nine.
- MAN: You'll take it.
- HOST: All righty, you got it.
(thumping, clanking inside)
- (whirring) - The 1984 games
will be held in Los Angeles.
PLUMBER: The shower's nearly fixed,
Ms. Fischer.
HOST: Are the Soviets planning
on coming? Yes or no.
- Downey?
- MAN: Yes.
HOST:
Yes, they are. Very indeed.
- (cheering)
- How about the next card?
(German accent):
Yes, darling.
Good answer, good answer.
Correct-a-mundo.
HOST:
Combine that with a ten,
and you would win the match
- and $2,500.
- (thumping)
PLUMBER:
Hot water's back.
Oh, darling, thank you.
(whispers):
Such a flash.
You got to answer
this question.
I've been freezing
my tush off for days.
I was boobing the tube.
No, thanks.
Go on.
We all deserve something sweet.
- He grew up to be president.
- (door opens)
- Downey.
- WOMAN: Jimmy Carter.
- HOST: Yes! Jimmy Carter.
- (door closes)
MAN:
Oh, good girl.
- (coughing)
- Good girl. Take it.
HOST:
All right. The next buys a ten.
- (coughing) - You've
got $2,500 in the match.
What is the card?
- (coughing, choking)
- (cheering)
(gasps)
Yahtzee!
(TV commercials playing faintly)
(Three's Company theme song
playing)
♪ Come and knock on our door ♪
(singing along):
♪ Come and knock on my door ♪
(on TV):
♪ We've been waitin' for you ♪
♪ We've been waitin'
for you ♪
(humming)
♪ Three's company, yes ♪
♪ Three's company, too. ♪
(vocalizing)
No!
(screaming)
Oh! No!
(whimpering)
Aah!
Aah! Help!
(screaming)
(wheezing) Help!
(coughing)
(screaming)
("Nobody Knows"
by Pastor T.I. Barrett playing)
♪ Nobody knows ♪
♪ Mmm ♪
♪ All the trouble I've seen ♪
♪ Nobody knows ♪
♪ Mmm ♪
♪ All the sorrow ♪
♪ Glory, glory ♪
♪ Mmm ♪
- ♪ Glory, hallelujah ♪
- Cock-a-doodle-do.
- ♪ Glory ♪
- ♪ Hmm ♪
- ♪ Glory ♪
- ♪ Let me tell you ♪
Mine's bigger.
♪ Glory, hallelujah ♪
♪ Nobody knows ♪
♪ Nobody
knows ♪
♪ Mmm, no, no, no ♪
♪ All the trouble I've seen. ♪
- MAN: Fucking Morris is back.
- MAN 2: Look who's back.
- The black Caped Crusader.
- (men laughing)
- MORRIS: Sir.
- Morris.
Look, I know it's early,
but, uh, I followed that lead.
The hooker in Hell's Kitchen.
She was turning tricks
for Mikey Tratioli.
- Genovese's body man.
- Jesus, Morris.
So she tells me Tratioli's
got issues in the bedroom,
a real floppy jalopy,
which leads me to believe
he's got one of them
insecure personalities,
you know? So I think
if we can get to Tratioli,
we can turn him easy.
Great, and after
we bust Genovese,
we can figure out who shot JFK.
Morris, you've been
with the Bureau for ten months.
It's 11 months, sir.
They see this Nancy Drew act,
you're gonna make it harder
on yourself than it already is.
And I want my own case.
And it can't be any harder
than it already is.
Okay.
You want your own case, Morris?
Tampa called this one in,
but they don't have
the manpower to handle.
A NASA scientist found dead
in her home at Cape Canaveral.
- Good night and good luck.
- There are 15 field offices
between here and Florida.
You just want me
out of your hair.
I'll get
on the next flight down.
Morris,
if you're itching
for some grand battle
between good and evil,
you ain't gonna find it here.
We're not soldiers,
we're not saints.
We're janitors is all.
The fate of all things
ain't resting on you.
NEWSMAN: Police have
released a sketch of the suspect
in the gruesome
robbery-homicide in D.C.
The sole survivor,
Under Secretary of State
Biff Simpson, has been upgraded
to stable condition.
A tragedy...
- CHEEKS: Jane.
- Jane, yep.
- Jane.
- Jane.
- Jane.
- Jane.
- Tarzan.
- Definitely Tarzan.
(growls à la Chewbacca)
What are you cocks
spazzing about?
Oh, well, we call "Jane"
if we think
the chick's squish mittens
are trimmed,
and then "Tarzan"
if it looks like her,
uh, Hairy Manilow's
an all-out pube jungle.
You guys are idiots.
We couldn't just leave you
cooped up in the house all day.
You got to at least try
to get your head off it, man.
You dig?
Yeah, and what better place
to do it than here
at Titty Beach?
Saw the motherfucker.
I saw him and I didn't do shit.
I just fucking stood there.
That piece of shit
had a gun, man.
He would've killed your ass.
It's not your fault.
The fuzz are on it, man.
- They'll find him.
- Cops won't find shit.
They've already forgotten
about it.
(man whistles)
(indistinct chatter)
MAN:
What do you want?
The Hell Devils,
they run the streets
from us to 112th, right?
Nothing goes down
without their knowing.
BOOTYHOLE:
Well, what's your point?
Maybe they know something.
CHEEKS:
Uh, and what? You're gonna ring
the fucking Hell Devils'
doorbell like the Avon Lady
- and just ask them?
- Yeah.
- You're coming with me.
- Aw, fuck,
no, man. If they see my fat ass,
they're gonna string me up
like an Easter ham.
So we bring protection.
The hell is that?
Some Jew sword?
The fuck your punk ass thinking,
that you some Charles Bronson
motherfucker now?
If you bring that
anywhere near the Hell Devils,
they're gonna circumcise you
for a second time, dude.
- For real.
- Just leave that shit at home.
- CHEEKS: Please.
- Fuck you guys.
- I'll do it myself.
- BOOTYHOLE: Jonah.
- Yo, Jonah. Come on, now.
- Come on, you're gonna get yourself killed.
(indistinct chatter)
♪ ♪
- Afternoon, gentlemen.
- MAN: Mm-hmm?
I'm looking
for a Detective Sommers.
- SOMMERS: Thank you...
- Right over there.
SOMMERS: If I need anything further,
I know where to find you.
You're Sommers?
(chuckles)
Agent Morris?
Shit. (chuckles)
Shaft and Foxy Brown.
We keep solving cases together,
they'll give us a sitcom.
- (chuckles)
- All right, let me see her.
So Gretel Fischer slips
in the tub,
and you guys call the FBI
to, what, hunt Mr. Clean?
(Sommers chuckles)
What, is this your first DOA?
It was making noises all night.
Go get some fresh air.
It looked like she slipped.
But the M.E. said it wasn't
the head wound that killed her.
Mm.
(exhales)
(quietly): Sorry.
(clears throat)
SOMMERS: It's like
she was trapped inside,
but there was no lock.
What are you doing?
Oh...
Let's see...
(exhales)
She was gassed.
(indistinct chatter)
(funk music playing on radio)
(dogs barking)
GANG LEADER: (whistles)
What the hell is this?
The fuck we got going on here,
Big Dude?
A... woman was shot and killed
the other night.
- 73rd Street.
- And so what?
You Pink Panther motherfucker
is here for revenge and shit?
She was my grandmother.
What'd you say?
She was my grandmother.
(chuckling)
Look, I know shit
doesn't go down under your nose
without you knowing.
And I know none of you
murder old ladies.
I just want you to find out
what asshole did this to her,
and... look, I'm... I'm willing
to make you a trade.
- Whoa. Whoa, whoa.
- GANG MEMBER: What's he got in that bag?
- Slow man, slow.
- For real.
- GANG LEADER: Let's see.
- (exhales)
GANG LEADER:
How much for, homie?
All of it.
I want a fucking name.
(siren blaring)
- Hey, let's go! Let's go!
- Go, go, go, go!
(gang members shouting)
- Police!
- Go, man, go!
- Shit!
- Aw, fuck.
SOMMERS:
Spoke to the super again.
He said that a company
by the name of Abraham & Sons
Plumbing came by yesterday.
Thing is, my boys checked.
There is no Abraham & Sons
Plumbing nowhere.
Doesn't exist.
Why the gas?
SOMMERS:
What do you mean?
I mean, if whoever did this
wanted her dead,
why go through
all the trouble?
All the risk? Creating
a fake plumbing company,
injecting gas into the pipes?
It all seems so purposeful.
So personal.
Call her kids. Family.
See if she had any enemies,
anything they could think
might want to hurt her.
I'll go to NASA in the morning.
See what they can tell me.
("Blue Bayou" by Roy Orbison
begins)
(bowling ball hitting pins)
- ♪ I feel so bad... ♪ - MAN: I mean,
my wrist was about to fall off.
I got the thumb working
in the front,
I got the forefinger
and the middle finger
working in the back
like I'm picking up
a seven-ten split. I mean,
like we say at the office,
- now I was gonna filibust all over her.
- (both men laughing)
- (slurping through straw)
- ♪ On Blue Bayou ♪
♪ I'm goin' back someday ♪
- ♪ Come what may... ♪
- Nines.
Oh, we're closing up
any minute.
- Nines.
- ♪ Where you sleep all day ♪
- ♪ And the catfish play ♪
- We're closing.
♪ On Blue Bayou ♪
Nines.
♪ Fishing boats
with their sails afloat ♪
Nines.
♪ That familiar sunrise ♪
Nines.
♪ How happy I'd be... ♪
(bowling pins crashing)
♪ Go to see my baby again ♪
♪ And to be with some
of my friends... ♪
"Are you my mother?"
You say something?
"'I'm not your mother.
"I am a dog, ' said the dog."
You're supposed
to pass the bill.
Who the hell are you?
Oh, Washington Post?
National Review?
Yeah. Well, listen good,
you Peter Parker pig fuck,
there are three things
I hold sacred: Jesus,
pussy, and Groovy Gutterball
Championship League
Bowling Night,
and if you think
that I'm gonna...
Are You My Mother?
He loves that book,
Dick Jr.
Your wife was asleep,
and I saw his night-light on.
"'Are you my mother?'
the baby bird asked a cow.
"'How could I be your mother?
"I am a cow.'
"'Are you my mother?'
"'No. No, I'm not your mother.
"I'm the man
who'll cut your throat
"unless your father
changes his vote
and does what we
paid him to do.'"
TERRY:
Dick, this guy bothering you?
Am I bothering you, Dick?
Listen, ass-munch, I don't know
who the fuck you think you are.
We got a problem?
What the fuck?
(shouting)
I know you'll keep tonight
between us,
make sure your boys
keep their mouths shut.
Otherwise, I can keep
their mouths shut for them.
Please, no,
we-we'll-we'll keep quiet.
Dick Jr. asked
if I was the monster
under his bed.
He said he was sure
there was a monster
living there,
but every time you would
go in to check...
under the bed, in the closet...
you could never see it.
Tell me, Congressman,
do you see me now?
DETECTIVE GROTON:
Mr. Offerman put up your bond, son.
$1,200.
You're free to go, for now.
His driver's waiting
outside for you.
(sighs)
I wasn't there to sell.
I know why you were there.
This has to stop now,
before you get hurt.
Leave the detective work to us.
Detective work
would be realizing
that the pattern
of the locations
of your mystery rapist's crimes
fits the A35 bus route
to a T,
so he must be taking
that bus line
to his victims' apartments.
Detective work
would be finding
who killed my grandma.
You're not doing detective work.
All you're doing
is sitting around
circle jerking to police
sketches of Son of Sam.
Don't let me keep you
from busting a nut.
Holy balls.
He's expecting you.
Well, I never.
Holy mackerel, I don't know
how you boys do it.
Doc, it's a masterpiece.
Good work.
"And God appointed a great fish
"to swallow Jonah up.
"And out of the belly of Hell,
Jonah cried
and God did hear his voice."
You should read the Torah more.
It is the original comic book.
- How are you?
- I'm fine.
Your face still looks like shit.
- At least mine will heal.
- You will h... Uh, yeah.
Well, you didn't tell me
you were Bruce Wayne rich.
Well...
What are you doing with this
Hell Devils? What is that?
Please, can we...
- Does that seem wise?
- I'm gonna pay you back,
- every single penny of my bail.
- What? No.
- I don't want your money, please. Ugh. No.
- Just don't give me a speech.
I forgive the loan
in its entirety.
All I want from you
is the thrill
of besting a Torah-ignorant punk
in a chess match.
What do you say?
You know, there was
a very famous prisoner
in Auschwitz
named Markus Roth.
He was the Bobby Fischer
of Germany.
And as fate would have it,
one of the Nazi guards,
a sadistic man named
Heinz Richter,
he had always aspired
to be a great chess player, too,
but for years, in tournaments,
he was, he was trounced
by the chess-playing Jew,
who was now his prisoner.
Now, one morning in the camps,
Richter rounded up Markus
and 32 others,
marched them into the woods.
Each day, more prisoners
were led into those same woods.
One morning,
your safta's younger sister
was taken.
Your safta,
foolish and fearless,
was determined
to rescue her dear Chava,
so we snuck into the dark woods
after them.
And? What did you see?
- Well, in a small clearing...
- (man speaking German)
...Richter had constructed
a human chessboard.
(woman screaming, crying)
On those squares
stood the prisoners...
...each one with a blade.
Richter commanded the black,
forced Markus to play
with the white.
Bishop...
to E3.
I'm sorry, Chava.
(crying)
Chava!
(shouting in German)
Chava didn't fare well.
After seven days
of this torture,
Markus Roth grabbed a blade,
tried to kill
the barbarous Heinz Richter.
Markus, of course,
was shot dead,
but not before
he gave Richter a scar
across his throat
in the shape of an "X."
Markus never lost
one match, however.
Not one.
Perhaps we can take
some solace in that.
What I'd give to have killed
those motherfuckers.
Your grandmother never told you
of such stories?
Of our history? No?
You rich folks have the luxury
of living in the past.
Rest of us can only afford
the present.
The past is all there is, Jonah,
repeating over and over again,
with new players of new times
hoping for a different outcome.
Checkmate.
(laughs)
In only two moves.
What, uh, what is this?
Yeah, I call it beating an
old man's ass at his own game.
You're what they call
"a little shit," aren't you?
- You want to play another...?
- The telephone is for you.
It's the mayor's office.
I should just be a moment.
Continue without me.
Probably win that, too.
Very good.
(film reel clicking)
Ah, what a fucking weirdo.
♪ ♪
(clicking)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
- It's bad manners...
- What the fuck is this?
...to venture around a man's
home without an invitation.
Is this him? Did you find
the fucker that did this to her?
You need to leave.
You found him.
How? The cops didn't have shit.
You think the cops
care about some old Jew?
Who is he?
Go home. Read the Talmud.
Living well is the best revenge.
- No. No, no, no! Tell me who he is.
- Go back home...
- And who are you?
- I have a fucking right to know!
Tell me right now.
What are you, one of your
masked, caped shvantzes
from your cartoons? No.
You are a boy.
You are a child
who could do nothing
to stop the killer in his home.
Who did nothing
to save his grandmother.
That's who you are.
Jonah! Stop!
(panting)
Hey, I'll, uh...
(sniffles)
I'll have a chicken noodle
and an Old Chicago.
(indistinct chatter)
WOMAN: ...because
they-they fell on their heads.
Right into you... and that's
the point of the game.
I don't understand the point
of the game. All these men...
♪ ♪
Hey. Excuse me, what is this?
- I ordered the chicken soup.
- Yeah, that's what that is.
This is not chicken soup.
- I want chicken soup.
- Well, I don't know what to tell you.
- That's what it is.
- I want the fucking chicken soup!
What the fuck
is wrong with you?
I want hers!
I want her... hers.
(crying)
I want her.
MAN:
We never met a sweeter woman
or a more brilliant scientist.
An unparalleled genius,
Gretel was.
Our hearts weep.
MORRIS: Did you notice
anything strange before her death?
Was she, I don't know,
was she acting strange
or suspicious or worried?
Anyone at work bothering her?
No. No, she kept
to herself, mostly.
- Spent weekends at the lab.
- She was a workaholic.
And what exactly did
Dr. Fischer do for you?
Gretel was a chemist.
Her research developed
the rocket fuel
that carried our boys
to the moon.
And she started at NASA in '48?
Yes. '48 or '49.
I remember when she came in.
She survived the war in Germany.
And here she was,
living the American Dream.
And what was she working on now?
MAN:
Dr. Fischer was...
working on a chemical solution
that would heighten
our astronauts' tolerance
of g-force from 16 to 30,
highly theoretical work.
That was completed back in 1954
when John Stapp harnessed
nearly 46 Gs in the
U.S. Air Force tests, no?
Sir, I'm not interviewing you
for Reader's Digest.
This is an FBI investigation
into the death
of one of your employees.
So you lie to me again
and I'll rip every hair
of that schnoz forest
out your nose
until you tell me
what I want to know.
Agent Morris,
if you would like to discuss
Dr. Fischer's
classified research,
we will gladly do so
on receipt of a warrant.
Short of that,
we have nothing more to add.
We don't respond to threats.
Least of all
from some broad like you.
(chair scrapes)
See her out.
All right. "Some broad like me."
Fuck you.
I've devoted my entire life
to science,
the search for truth.
And truth matters now
more than ever.
What-what are... what truth?
You aren't the first to ask
questions about Gretel Fischer.
Find the first and you'll find
what you're looking for.
No, wait.
What are you talking about?
The Russians used to send each
of their cosmonauts into space
with a sawed-off shotgun.
It wasn't for protection
against aliens.
Nothing ridiculous like that.
It was because
on their return to Earth,
if they landed off course,
they'd have to hike
hundreds of miles
through the Siberian tundra
and they needed protection
against the bears
and the wolves.
When you land, Agent Morris,
and you will,
you won't be in the tundra,
but if I were you,
I, too, would carry protection.
For where you're going,
there'll be bears
and there'll be wolves.
- (rap song playing)
- (train clacking, squealing)
♪ ♪
♪ Party got started
about an hour ago ♪
♪ You know where it's gonna be,
find the door ♪
♪ Upstairs and
in the basement, too ♪
♪ All the ladies in the house
getting in the groove ♪
♪ And outside,
if you need some air ♪
♪ And everybody's getting down
like they just don't care... ♪
(rap song fades)
♪ ♪
(muttering):
Red Balloon, Red Balloon...
♪ ♪
(door bells jingle)
(door bells jingle)
- (grunts softly)
- GIRL: Maybe they have it.
- (door bells jingle)
- GIRL 2: Ask him.
Mister, do you have
the Superstar Barbie in stock?
We should be getting more in
next week.
I'll save one just for you,
darling.
(door bells jingle)
Can I help you, son?
Son?
♪ ♪
Son?
You. You.
- No, please.
- You.
- Just take the money.
- You killed her.
- You fucking killed her, I know you did.
- Take what you want.
- No, I not done nothing.
- I know you did it!
What?
What are you talking about?
- I didn't kill anyone.
- Don't fucking lie to me.
No, please.
- I didn't kill no one.
- No, I saw you.
I saw you.
- Just take the money.
- I saw you.
- Just take the...
- I saw your car.
I don't have a car!
Please, please,
just take the money.
- Fuck.
- Please. Please.
Please.
(sobbing):
Please.
Just take the money.
Richter.
(electricity zaps)
(grunts)
(object clatters on floor)
♪ ♪
(whimpers)
(muffled shouting)
You Jews are always the best
to play our games with.
(muffled shouting continues)
You know why?
(panting)
Because you know what it is
to play for your life.
(whimpers)
I wish I could have played with
your grandmother for hours more.
It was a shame.
(whimpering)
But...
now you are going to tell me
what she would not.
(whimpering)
Ow! Fucker!
You motherfucking piece of shit.
Ah! Ow!
Why was she looking for me?
L-Look... looking,
looking for-for-for you?
I-I don't, I don't know
what you're talking...
No! (yells)
- (panting)
- Who was she working for?
- Mossad?
- What?
Wiesenthal? The Soviets?
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Ow!
She wasn't working for anybody.
- She wasn't...
- How did she find me?
She wasn't working for anybody,
I'm telling you.
I don't know what
you're talking about.
Please let me go.
You fucking monster,
I'll kill you.
Ow!
Ah, ah, ow!
(yelling)
No, you won't.
You Jews,
you think you know how to kill
because for eons
you've been massacred.
But you don't see the cows
running the slaughterhouses,
do you?
(panting)
Come.
Moo for me, boy.
(panting)
Moo.
(lowing):
Moo.
(Richter groans mockingly)
Now...
are you going to tell me
what I need to know,
or should I aim for your eyes?
(knocking on door)
- (Jonah whimpers)
- We're closed!
Help, help, help. Help!
- Help! Help! Please, help!
- We're closed!
Help!
Help! Please!
(knocking continues)
(muffled):
Help! Help!
(panting)
- (muffled sobbing)
- (knocking continues)
RICHTER:
I'm coming!
- (knocking continues)
- I'm coming.
- (door creaks open)
- We had to close early today.
WOMAN:
I just need to get
- a gift for my daughter.
- (grunts)
Get your little one
something special tomorrow.
(lock clacks)
♪ ♪
(cries out)
- (Richter yelling)
- (whimpering)
(doorknob rattling)
Help! Help! Help!
- Somebody open...
- (Richter yelling)
Help! Help!
(both grunting)
(Jonah panting)
(gasping)
(Jonah panting)
(straining)
(grunting)
(cries out)
You mistook us for pawns.
When all this time,
we've been kings.
This is for Markus.
And for Chava.
For Ruth.
What the fuck?
What the fuck? What the fuck?
Well, Scooby-Dooby,
this is one monster
that need not be unmasked.
(panting)
Ah, fuck.
Jesus, fuck.
Here. Jonah, Jonah,
it's all right.
It's all right.
- Jonah.
- Ah. Ow.
Calm, calm. It's all right.
I see it. I see it.
- Here it is, it's in this place.
- Who are you?
- Who the fuck are you? CIA?
- Just press.
- Huh? Mossad?
- Press.
Oh, kindelah, no.
I work only for myself.
Though I suppose I represent
six million clients.
(panting): Why was he saying
she was after him?
Because she was.
We both were.
(papers shuffling)
You know that photograph
you stole from me?
Your grandmother took it
the day before she died.
She would never let us pursue
anyone without her verification.
Pursue?
Pursue who?
Nazis, Jonah.
Goddamn gold-ribbon,
grade "A" Nazis.
Nazis?
Yes.
The war's over.
Only the dead know
the end of war.
I tried to keep you away
from it.
Your grandmother wished
to protect you from it.
From what?
The Hunt, Jonah.
The Hunt. Come.
Let's go.
What the fuck is The Hunt?
♪ ♪
(door creaks)
(music box playing)
(chair creaking)
(exhales)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪
NEWSMAN (over TV): In other
news out of the nation's capital,
Congressman Dick Marshall
has changed his stance
and will now vote
to repeal sanctions
on South American nations,
allowing the bill to pass
in the House
as it heads
to the Senate floor.
Keep it right here
on this news station
for all the late-breaking
details.
I'm Logan Crawford, reporting.
When you don't separate
the whites from the colors...
...the colors always bleed.
♪ ♪
(telephone ringing)
(telephone continues ringing)
BIFF (over phone):
You did good.
The Colonel wishes to meet you.
Me?
MEYER:
A year ago, your safta
came to me in a panic.
We hadn't seen one another
in 30 years.
So, one morning, at the market,
she told me she noticed a man
picking cantaloupes.
She recognized him
as a Nazi doctor
from Auschwitz.
A man who would rip out
every tooth from a child's mouth
just for sport.
And there he stood,
a free man in America.
He had been a pediatrician
on Long Island
for d-decades.
Ruth discovered his sister,
a Nazi chemist...
she also escaped here.
We believed that these two vile
creatures were in our midst,
so we thought there could be
others here.
- Did you tell the authorities?
- Well, we tried, but...
We went through
all the proper channels, so...
law enforcement,
the courts, INS.
But whether out of incompetence,
ignorance, or animus,
we were laughed at.
They didn't believe us.
So I took the matter
to the senators I knew,
the congressmen
who I got elected,
but they ignored me.
No one cares
to stake their reputation
on investigating
some Jew killers.
So, with nowhere else to turn,
we made a vow.
We would find
these criminals ourselves...
...and bring God's justice
to their doorstep.
You mean murder them.
Murder?
No. No, Jonah.
This is not murder.
Before Jews even existed,
hatred and slaughter
waited for us.
For thousands of years,
from Masada to Munich,
we have been massacred.
Pharaohs and popes and princes
and popular votes
calling for our blood.
Now?
We survive the war,
we survive the greatest
mass eradication
in modern history,
and we arrive home to find
that the people
who did this to us,
they're our neighbors.
So tell me, what should we do?
Shake hands?
Turn a blind eye?
Forget? No, no.
The greatest single gift
of the Jewish people
is our capacity...
our capacity to remember.
And it's because of our memory
that we know this is survival.
This is not murder.
This is mitzvah.
The man from the market...
became our first.
Heinz is number seven.
We number our kills.
Eye for eye.
Jonah, this is not because
we want for this.
Because we have no choice.
We must instill fear...
send a message.
Let them know...
not again.
No more.
No more, Jonah.
Nip it in the bud.
Who is that? The Wolf?
The Nazi doctor from Auschwitz.
The monster of my story.
Still haunts me to this day.
The Talmud is wrong.
Living well is not
the best revenge.
You know what
the best revenge is?
Revenge.
I want in.
I want in.
Your grandmother protected you
from all this.
She risked her life
so you could live out yours.
She's dead because of me.
I will regret that
for the rest of my life.
I have to do this.
I can't allow it.
No, it's my right.
It's my choice.
I found him.
I did.
You found what I could not.
You found what I could not.
Your grandmother said,
"A brilliant mind...
from God, a gift."
But you followed
in her footsteps today.
You held her dagger.
You did her work.
Your grandmother wished
to protect you from The Hunt,
but it appears we cannot
protect The Hunt from you.
Ah, f... I miss her.
(sighs)
- I miss her so much.
- It's okay.
I miss her, too.
(indistinct voices)
What is that?
What is that?
Oh...
you didn't think Ruth and I
could do this alone, did you?
You all remember Jonah.
Well, now, fill our glasses.
JONAH:
So we bring protection.
CHEEKS: The hell is that,
some Jew sword?
MEYER:
We have a fresh kill to toast.
Then you should have hired
a fucking babysitter.
I'm not working late again
for this shit.
♪ ♪
That's fucking Lonny Flash.
JONAH:
Shut your gefilte-fish-stinking
fat fucking mouth.
(door opens, slams shut)
With Ruth gone, someone had
to look after you.
To Ruth.
ALL:
To Ruth.
MEYER:
We have trials ahead,
a growing list of vermin.
So... let us get to cooking
these Nazi cunts.
(exhales)
♪ ♪
(insects trilling)
Herr Colonel?
Frau Colonel.
You expected a man, didn't you?
Well, jeepers creepers,
I'm a dame.
We've had many good soldiers
through the years...
...but we've been following you
since Skokie, child.
And you are on track
for true Bedeutung.
The congressman passed the bill.
The solution will be on its way
from South America shortly.
Wonderful, Colonel.
I believe you're ready
for much more, son.
I have another task for you.
Two of our people
have been murdered...
under mysterious circumstances
in just the past month alone.
Whoever is behind this needs
to be found and dealt with.
I need you to unravel
that little mystery.
Of course, ma'am.
We are on the eve
of the Final War.
(chuckles)
And all of America,
all of the world,
shall be brought to their knees.
It begins now.
What begins now?
The Fourth Reich.
(laughs)
(laughs)
Heil Hitler.
- Sieg heil.
- Sieg heil.
Heil Hitler.
Sieg heil.
Sieg heil.
(woman eerily vocalizing)
♪ ♪
♪ ♪