Scandal (2012–2018): Season 4, Episode 2 - The State of the Union - full transcript

In order for Fitz to make the biggest impact with his State of the Union address on gun control, Cyrus sets out to recruit a power couple who are influential on the issue. Meanwhile, Mellie's personal struggle gets national attention.

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I booked a hotel suite.

You did what?

It's pretty close to your apartment.

Easy, scenic.

You could run there, run back.

Why am I running there?

- Booty calls.
- Booty calls?

You booked a hotel suite

and I'm running there for booty calls?

What... what
is happening?

We're back in D.C. we're not
standing in the sun anymore.



I'm not gonna live in your apartment,

waiting to service you.

I have things to do.
I'm busy. But...

- I did book a nice hotel suite for booty calls.
- Okay, no.

See, we have to have
a conversation about...

I don't do booty calls, Jake.

That right there
refutes your statement.

That right there is a
political booty call.

I'll see you later.

You look good...

Healthy.

I'm a vegetarian now.

They took meat away from me...

the aides, the housekeeper,
my security detail.



They all got together
with the doctors and...

a conspiracy.

They won't even stop the car
for a drive-through burger.

I'm a prisoner...
fascists.

They care about you.
They want you to live.

Sons of bitches.

You look like crap.

No, I don't.

You could let a person know
you're back in town.

You knew I was here.

You could call a friend.

Are we?

Still friends?

I need a favor.

I don't do favors for
the White House anymore.

Then think of it as less
of a favor, more of a job.

I definitely don't work
for the White House anymore.

Mm. Thing is...

You already are.

Cyrus...

at least, if someone
were to take a look

at your corporate bank account,

they'd think you were,
because they'd see

that a considerable sum
has been deposited there

by the United States government
for services rendered.

You can't think I'm above

calling in a few favors at the I.R.S.

You're blackmailing me?

Blackmail!

James and Lisa Elliot...
are attending the state of the union

as the President's guests of honor
...a living testament

to his newfound commitment
to gun control.

- And?
- They've missed two flights from new Mexico,

and they're not returning our calls.

And the state of the union is...

- is tomorrow night.
- Mm-hmm.

Cyrus, you know
I'm not afraid of the I.R.S.

I'll tell him...

You call every day.

I'll tell him you call,
asking about him every day,

that you're pining for him.

Sorry to be such a bastard, Liv.

Craving meat really brings out
the worst in me.

James Elliot is a real, live war hero.

Escaped from
a Taliban P.O.W. camp,

hiked 27 miles
over the hindu kush mountains,

without shoes or water,
to reach safety.

A total badass.
Right, Huck?

James met Lisa when he came to speak

to her first-grade class
at Red Hawk elementary

about two years before the shooting.

All those kids.

Lisa saved at least 50 lives.

She hid students in their lockers,

led five girls trapped
in the line of fire to safety.

46 minutes after the shooting started,

she took a bullet to her spine.

Paralyzed her from the waist down.

He took her to all those
funerals... how many?

29. The tabloids called her
"the angel of the mesa."

Six months after physical
therapy, she was well enough...

for a fairytale wedding.

It was covered worldwide...
they told every reporter

they were dedicating their lives
to getting guns off the street.

And to each other.

♪ ...at a guy who stuck out
in the crowd ♪

♪ He had the kind of body
that would shame adonis ♪

♪ And a face
that would make any man proud ♪

Hello?

Everyone loves them.

I love them.
They're perfect.

They about to be the most
high-profile guests of honor

at the state of the union,

so why didn't they
get on their plane this morning?

One more insult and I will kill you!

Like hell you will!

- Get away from me!
- Lisa!

Suck on that,

you stupid son of a...

Hey!

Thank you. I think
we've had enough, right?

I'm sick and tired of being
the guy to make sure

the lady in the wheelchair
gets whatever she wants,

whenever she wants it... that's why.
Oh, here we go again.

I love this wheelchair.

I can't get enough of this wheelchair.

I'm the bitch who somehow came up with

the crazy idea
to get shot in the spine.

That wheelchair made you a star.

Now, that wheelchair
is your freaking throne.

It's like you sit in there
and you rule over your little...

Paralyzed kingdom.

You're such a whiner.

I'm a whiner?
I'm a whiner?

I was in a P.O.W. camp
for two years.

Oh, my God, will you stop it
with the P.O.W. camp already?

- Whiner!
- Okay, that's enough.

I was tortured by the Taliban.

"Oh, I was
in a P.O.W. camp.

I was tortured
by the Taliban."

What is your point, James?

Where's your Taliban now?
All righty.

- Let's pause...
- I was tortured

by the Taliban, and it
was better than this.

The Taliban is better than you!

That is it, you son of a...

wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!
I am the only one who talks!

Just about 30 hours from now,

the President of the
United States of America

is going to stand up and give
the state of the union address.

He'll be discussing gun control.

To do that, he needs
to point to the two of you,

because despite
whatever is happening here,

you are the face of gun control
to the American people.

So the President needs
your asses in those seats.

The law depends on in.
Lives depend on it.

So let's knock off
the bickering, pack our bags,

and go serve our country, shall we?

- You can't do this.
- Can't do what?

Make gun control

the centerpiece of your
state of the union address.

Why not?

Because we're Republicans.

You held your tongue on equal pay.

Yes, and then you nominated a democrat

to be your Attorney General.

Cy, Lizzie's just trying
to keep the party together.

That's the speech.

Why isn't the President
here to defend this himself?

Because he's not at your
Beck and call like this one.

All right.
That is enough.

You made your point.

Stand and clap, Andrew.

That's your job tomorrow night...

stand and clap.

Cyrus...

Where's the President?

Busy.
The President is busy.

Yes, Dave?

The First Lady
would like her chips, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Here you go, ma'am.

Ah, thank you, Dave.

Mmm.

Has the First Lady
been diagnosed by doctors,

mental-health
professionals?

The First Lady is grieving,
Jim, not crazy.

Is the President considering

stepping down to care for his wife?

Carol, the President...
this is bad, Cy.

Not for potato chip sales.
Don't joke.

So you're saying Mrs. Grant hasn't
sought medical help. No, Carol.

Well, then, how can you be sure
of her mental health?

Easy, Jim.
I compared her to you.

See? She's funny.

She's just adding fuel to the fire.

Just trying to lighten
the mood in here, Jim.

No hard feelings.
Next question.

Come on, Abby. Don't dodge me.
These are serious questions.

She could shut this whole thing
down with something like

"just because a private moment
has been made public

doesn't give us
the right to pass judgment."

Don't tell me how to run my people.

Just tell me I don't have to
worry about the Elliots.

Oh, you do.

America's sweethearts
hate each other...

like, really deeply hate each
other... and I totally get why.

- They're horrible people, Cyrus, both of them.
- But you'll fix them.

I'm afraid that's all the questions
we have time for right now.

Got to go.

Watch your tone.
Less combative.

Don't add fuel to the fire.

Just because a private moment
has been made public

doesn't give us the right
to pass judgment.

- Got it.
- Good.

I need everything you can get me

on the murders of Harrison
Wright and Adnan Salif.

Paperwork, crime-scene
photos... all of it.

I looked it over myself.
That investigation was clean.

"Clean" and "factual"
are very different things.

Those two made it all the way
from D.C. to Arizona

before Ivan Yushkin tracked
them down and shot them?

Fine, but I want to see
the paper trail for myself.

Well, noble of you, but right now,
I've really got a lot on my plate.

Rowan was at Wright's funeral,

and I don't think he was there
to be a supportive dad.

I'm about to go through
a senate confirmation hearing,

and I don't think being a known
associate of a prolific assassin

is gonna be great for my chances.

Fine.
I'll do what I can.

Can I go now, please?

Hey.

Hey.

Liv's back from New Mexico
with the Elliots.

Apparently, they're awful.

Just horrible, awful people
who hate each other.

That's what the problem is.

So Liv's putting them in adjoining
rooms at the Hay-Adams,

and she's doing their press for them,

and she asked us to babysit.

Because working together
is what we do best.

Look, you don't have to
treat me like this.

Yes, I do.

The Elliots are a remarkable couple

who serve to remind us all

of the necessity
of stricter guncontrol laws,

something I know the President
cares deeply about.

Speaking of the President,

you've worked for him in the past.

What do you make of
the state of the first family?

Well, I don't work
at the White House currently,

but I do feel that just because
a private moment is made public

doesn't give us the liberty
to pass judgment.

In fact, I think

where we should be
focusing our priorities...

"just because a private moment
is made public

doesn't give us the liberty
to pass judgment"?

I thought you could use the help.

You don't work here anymore, Liv.

I do, and I will do things my own way,

because you know what?

You don't know everything.
You don't know anything.

Harrison dies.
The firm falls apart.

Huck and Quinn were incest-ing
all over the office

for God knows how long,
and you had no idea.

- Huck and what?
- Uh-huh. Yeah.

Mmm, mmm.

Fried chicken.
Chef will make fried chicken.

All you got to do is pick up
the phone and ask, and bam...

fried chicken,
Southern-fried, real.

You want some?

No, thank you. Mellie, I need...

We need...

I'd like to have
a discussion with you about...

Mellie, ma'am, this photo
of you looking crazy

is in every paper in America,
and we have a huge problem

because the state of
the union... Cyrus!

Someone took this of me
at Jerry's grave?

I'm sorry.

We don't know how they got
through with all the security.

It should be private.
You should have your privacy.

But it's out there,

and now the state of the union
is in 24 hours.

You want me to go
to the state of the union?

Yes.

It'll shut this down,
keep the focus on the speech.

If you don't go, your absence,
your "state of mind"

will be all
anyone will be talking about.

Mellie.

Oh, honey, baby, do you actually think

I give a damn what anyone
thinks of me anymore? Mellie.

And for you to come here

and pretend that this is all about me

when really...
let's face it, baby...

this is all about you.

This is "the Fitzgerald Grant show"

staring Fitzgerald Grant.

And you just want me to play my part...

the costar, the dutiful wife
who smiles and applauds

and looks so proud of you
and doesn't eat chicken

or wear sweatpants
or hang out on graves.

You're supposed to be a vegetarian.

So I die of a heart attack...
big deal.

Least I'll be with James.

It's not the same...

my child, your husband.

It's not the same.

I keep hearing that.

The loss of a child is greater.

I resent that,
never having lost a child.

I resent having to feel like
losing the love of my life...

the only someone who ever made
me feel like I was truly me...

is less of a loss,
is smaller than your loss.

I'm now broken. I'm now not me.

I'm now forever changed.
I'm undone.

A broken heart is a broken heart...

to take a measure is cruelty.

I'm not going tomorrow.

I'm not putting on a dress.

I'm not waving for the cameras.

I'm done, Cyrus.
I'm through.

And we are not the same.

I wasn't sure you'd make it.

To my office?

I know you've got a lot on your plate.

I'm fine.

So...

Senate-confirmation
hearing

for the office of Attorney General.

Let's get started.

What can you tell this committee

about the trial
of the Molotov mistress?

Aren't they gonna
ease into this a little,

ask me where I went to college?

I understand you went
to Dartmouth, Mr. Rosen.

So did I.

Ah, it is, sir, as I have said,
a small college...

And yet there are those who love it.

What can you tell this committee

about the trial of the
so-called molotov mistress?

The most important vote on
the senate judiciary committee

is Al Watson.

Not an ally, but if we can
convince him, we're home free.

He's savage.

You were fired, Mr. Rosen...
correct?

For pursuing some loony
conspiracy theory

about election rigging?

I told you... I left
to pursue another career.

You left a prestigious job
as a United States attorney

to teach public high school?

Michael Jordan left the Bulls
to play minor league baseball.

These things happen.

You're comparing yourself
to Michael Jordan?!

I'm comparing myself

to anyone who's ever
followed a dream, senator.

So, you like sports?

No.

Okay.

How about a drink?
Do you drink?

He was such a hero, you know.

I mean, all those years
as a P.O.W,

and he comes homes without
a trace of bitterness,

which is hard to believe now.

But then...

He was perfect.

And he thought I was perfect.

And we were in love.

Before...

All this.

We were in love.

- Liv.
- Hey.

Did I catch you at a bad time?

- No. What's up?
- Nothing.

Is this a booty call?

No.

There was no reason
for you to get a hotel room.

Well, I'm not your boyfriend.

I'm not gonna sleep in your bed
like some kept man.

You were fine staying with me.

I was fine with it.
You should come back.

- Are you summoning me?
- No.

Possibly.

You can't summon me.

Get over here.

You are not in charge of me.

You are not in charge of me.

I never said I was.
I did, however, let you know

that I'm available for Booty calls...

all the booty calls you want.

At my hotel.

In room 207.

I don't like this.

Don't like it, then.

Elizabeth, to what do I...

Why are you here?

I know you won't believe me,
but I'm sorry.

I was just slipped this

by a friend in senator Watson's office.

It seems a copy was sent
to him this afternoon.

Rosen?

Domestic abuse?

It's toxic, Cyrus.

Watson moves forward on this,

and the President's entire
agenda comes crashing down.

It's one brick in a wall, Liz.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

A man who would nominate an
Attorney General who beats women

is either a monster

or someone whose attention
isn't where it's supposed to be.

Too busy caring for his wife, perhaps.

Have Rosen decline the nomination
at tomorrow's hearing.

It's the only choice.

You're right.

I don't believe you're sorry at all.

But this is fabricated.

You know this is fabricated.

Olivia pope had Harrison plant this.

He paid a girl to say I beat her.
It doesn't matter.

She's lying.
I never... - David.

I thought you said
Harrison Wright buried this.

I thought he did. I don't know
how anyone found it.

It doesn't matter.
Someone did.

The President likes you, but it's over.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, David.

Really.

Thanks.

Olivia Pope.

For all her talk of white
hats and doing good,

she just gets whatever she wants,

and sometimes
you're just collateral damage.

Admit it.

Come on, you don't work there anymore.

She has no loyalty.

She gets what she wants
because she's a winner,

and she doesn't sit around
wondering whether or not

she played the game right way.

We have to come up with a statement.
Where are you going?

I'm gonna go win.

Excuse me.

Uh, can I get a, uh...

what is that?
Is that... vodka?

From England.

It's made from cow's milk, apparently.

Actually kind of creamy.

In fact, can I have another, please?

Thanks.

Here.

Let me get those.

No, no.
It's okay.

I'm...
Not interested.

Not that I wouldn't be.

I just...

Oh.
You're, uh...

- you're with someone. I get it.
- No.

Um, well...

Not really.

But...

I can't.

It's okay.

Mmm.

This is delicious.

Good night.

♪ oh, where
we go, you will always know ♪

♪ that the army goes rolling along ♪

What the hell are you doing?

Singing the army song.
What the hell are you doing?

- Are you drunk?
- No.

I am. Shut up.

Why don't you mind
your own business for once?

I didn't know what else to do, huck.

I thought you'd want
to know about your family.

I was trying to help you,
but I don't know why I bothered.

We were never a normal couple.

You're always gonna be the guy
who pulled my teeth out.

I pulled your teeth out

because you couldn't mind
your own business.

You could never mind
your own business, Quinn.

And if I had to do it again

to teach you that one very
valuable lesson, I would.

God.

You bitch.

Lisa, why don't you open this door

so we can all have a conversation?

- I'm not talking to him!
- Lisa.

Don't bother. Just put me on the
next plane to ABQ. I'm done.

James, we're all just
gonna take a minute here.

I'm serious. Screw her
and screw gun control.

- What the hell happened in there?
- Ask Huck.

Maybe he'll sing you a song about it.

- Huck, what's going on with you and Quinn?
- Nothing.

Not "nothing."

Do you want to tell me,
or am I gonna have to tell you?

It was only...

it was only a couple of times.

Huck, look at me.

Look at me.

- Huck...
- I'm fine.

Don't touch me.

Hawley, Pennsylvania, senator Watson.

What about it?

I've been doing some reading.

Turn to page three.

Or maybe just skip right to the end

where we find
a couple million in bribes

tucked under the venison
in your garage freezer.

This is blackmail.

I like to think of it as winning.

David Rosen has shown
himself to be highly qualified,

and I am confident

that my fellow senators will agree

and vote in favor of Mr. Rosen
for Attorney General.

What the hell is that?

Mr. Rosen,
when he appeared...

Get me Watson's office right now.

He was very impressive.

Tonight, the President heads to
the capitol building

for what insiders are suggesting

will be an historic
state of the union address.

While rumors still swirl

as to the mental health
of the First Lady

and the emotional state
of the entire first family,

White House watchers are hoping
to catch a glimpse

of Mellie Grant tonight.

Under siege from his own party

for his recent attempts
to reach across the aisle,

including what seems to be
an imminent confirmation

of Democratic Attorney General
David Rosen,

President Grant
is expected to double down

on several formerly Democratic causes,

most especially gun control.

Good news or the usual?

Olivia called.

The elliots won't be attending
the pre-reception,

which means the cameras
won't catch them

going into the capitol,
which means that

when the networks do
their intros tonight,

there will be no b-roll
to go along with their stories

of true love triumphing
over the evil of guns.

They're not gonna show.

Liv's on it.

You're not even a little concerned?

Oh, I'm concerned.

I'm concerned that
Fitzgerald Grant's second term

as President of these United
States is about to be derailed

because his wife won't stop
eating fried chicken long enough

to put on a cocktail dress.

I'm concerned that

our enemies are sharpening
their long knives

for the rapidly approaching moment

when it becomes politically
acceptable to point out

that maybe, just maybe,
the President's home life

has begun to affect
his decision-making.

I am concerned that

everything I've devoted
far more of my soul to

than has ever been right
or healthy or appropriate

is about to come crashing down
on a 16-year-old's grave.

But, no, I am not concerned
that Olivia pope will fail.

I am never concerned
that Olivia pope will fail.

The elliots will be
at the state of the union.

Mellie, not so much.

What are you doing?
Why aren't you dressed?

I can't do this anymore.

I'm sorry.

I just can't.

Quinn, open the door.

James, Lisa,
what you need is a divorce.

- What?
- We can't.

You can.
Get a divorce.

Get out before this kills you both.

It'll be hard.

You'll have to pay back the
advance for your second book,

sell the house, take the loss.

But I will spin this for you.

I will make sure that, when it's over,

you can still make a living

off of individual speaking engagements.

I will keep the public on your side...

both of your sides.

I will give you a way out.
I can do that.

Unless you're only
staying together for the fame,

in which case you deserve each other

and I wish you both
a long and miserable life.

Mrs. Grant?

Mrs. Grant?

I don't know who you are,

but you are obviously some sort
of desperate hail Mary

from my husband or from
Cyrus or from someone else

who thinks there is a chance in hell

of getting me to
put on that stupid dress

and go to that stupid speech.

I'm not interested in whatever
it is you came here to say,

so save it and go away.

It's not happening.

Children die, Mrs. Grant.

I don't have children,

so you may think it's horrible
for me to say that,

and maybe it is, but it's also a fact

that of all the millions of Americans

who will be watching and listening to

the state of the union address tonight,

there are thousands of people out there

whose children have
died, just like yours.

But unlike you, they didn't
get to spend three months

flipping through trash
and eating potato chips.

They got three days to grieve...

three weeks if they were lucky...

or they would lose their jobs.

And make no mistake,
Mrs. Grant, you have a job.

You're the First Lady
of the United States,

and it might not pay, but it is a job.

And if Jackie Kennedy could be in a car

with her husband's brains

splattered across her lap one minute

and standing next to L.B.J.

As he was sworn in
to replace her dead husband

just 99 minutes later,

you can put on a dress
and stand in your private box

and show all the people in our nation

who share the horrible burden
of losing a child with you

that the first family
may be devastated,

but it has not forgotten
the American people

who voted for your husband

and who need to see that you're okay,

whether or not it's the truth.

That is what I came here to say.

A-and
I'll let myself out.

All right. From here an aide
will take you to your seats.

This is the finish line.

Sorry, ma'am.
Gonna need you to stay put.

Mr. President.

Abby.

- Olivia.
- Hi, Liv.

This is James and Lisa Elliot.

Thank you both so much for
your service to your country.

Thank you.

Mr. and Mrs. Elliot,
I'll take you to your seats.

Well.

Well.

Thank you for the Elliots.

Not a problem.

Ms. Whelan, we need
the President's final remarks

for the teleprompter.

Got them right here.

No.
Wait just a second.

Can Ms. Pope and I
have the room?

That is not necessary.

Can Ms. Pope and I
have the room?

That was not a good idea.

Gabby will be fine.

I need to hear what you think.

Before I go out there
and talk to the country,

I need to know what you think.

No.

Don't you think you owe me
at least this much?

Mr. Speaker, the President
of the United States!

We honor the lives we've lost
in service to this great nation.

But not every death is a sacrifice.

Not every death has meaning.

Just ask Lisa Elliot,

who scooped up a first grader
named Joelle Brandt

and carried her to safety,
only to watch her die

from one of the 102 rounds
unloaded at red hawk elementary.

I wasn't planning on
talking about this tonight.

It's fine.

I know you.

"It's fine" never means it's fine.

Okay.

This isn't right.

It's not?

It's not.

It's not, um...

it's not the speech on my teleprompter.

So tell me how to fix it.

And I can tell you that right about now

there are any number of staffers
having heart attacks,

wondering what I'm about to say.

No one is going to care about
James and Lisa Elliot

if they're too busy wondering
about Fitz and Mellie Grant.

She's still grieving.

The world knows she's still grieving.

So be honest.

But here's the truth.

My family and I have been
through something unspeakable.

Something that no parent...
no human being...

should ever have to experience.

And we are, all of us,

me...
Our daughter, Karen...

Our little son, Teddy...

And my lovely, amazingly strong
wife, Mellie,

who is here to support
our nation tonight.

I was gonna wear blue,

but I heard the Elliots are wearing blue,

so I decided to go with red.

My son Jerry's death...

was a horrible fluke.

But it was just that...
a fluke.

An accident.

A bacterial strain that we
do not yet have the capacity

to keep our loved ones safe from.

But there were
thousands of people last year

who lost their lives
in a completely avoidable way.

The right to bear arms...

set in stone in the constitution
by our founding fathers.

So was slavery, by the way.

The right to bear arms...
seems indisputable...

until the shooter comes,

until you're Lisa Elliot,
covered in blood,

watching a little girl
take her last breath,

watching the light go out of her eyes.

And that...

That is where the argument ends.

That is when the debate is over.

My son...

My son is dead.

And I ask you here tonight,

without a teleprompter,
without a speech,

without anything but my love
as a husband and a father...

And an American,

how many other people's children
are we going to let die

before we put a stop to this?

Are you all right, ma'am?

I'm fine.

Ma'am?

Leave me be.

Just leave me be!

Mel?

Mellie?

Get out of here.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

It's okay.

It's over.

It's over.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

What's this?

It's the '94 Du Bellay, the
last bottle from the island.

You came over here
to give me a bottle of wine?

I thought about wearing a bikini,

I thought about bringing
a coconut or a pineapple

or one of those cheesy
little bottles full of sand.

- But we're not on the island.
- No.

And we're not standing in the sun.

No.

- This is not a bBooty call.
- Okay.

And if I want to summon you,
I will summon you.

- Olivia.
- Come here to me.

♪ MacArthur's Park
is melting in the dark ♪

♪ all the sweet, green icing
flowing down ♪

♪ someone left the cake out
in the rain ♪

♪ I don't think that I can take it ♪

♪ 'cause it took so long to bake it ♪

♪ and I'll never have
that recipe again ♪

♪ oh, no-o-o-o

- Are you okay?
- Yeah.

I just haven't done this

in r-really long time.

You'd never know it.

And I have to admit
I have never actually done this.

No, I mean, I've done this...
what we're about to do.

I have just never done
that thing where...

oh, you know.

One second you're sitting in a bar,

and the next second, you're
getting naked in a hotel room.

Have you?

Not that it's any of my business.

Well...

Yeah.

It's, uh...
It's kind of what I do.

Oh, my God.

Y-y-you're a, uh...

"Sex worker" I think

is the, uh, politically correct
term nowadays.

And while we're at it,
my name is Michael.

Right.

Well... Michael.

I did not know that.

I'm so sorry to have wasted your time.

Uh, I can't be here right now.

I can't stay, so...

You...

You don't want to?

♪ All the sweet,
green icing... ♪

I...

♪ ...flowing down

it's not that... At all.

Well, then...

♪ ...in the rain

♪ I don't think that I can take it ♪

♪ 'cause it took so long to bake it ♪

♪ and I'll never have
that recipe... ♪

What's stopping you?

♪ ...again

♪ oh, no-o-o-o

You were right.
He's lonely.

And did you...?

Not yet.
But we'll get there.

Good work.

Keep me updated.

Will do.