(man grunting rhythmically)
(rhythmic grunting continues)
Oh, yeah. That's it.
Right there.
(man continues grunting)
(loud, final grunts)
(man exhales)
(panting)
It's ten.
That's all I got.
Fuck you, you little dick piece of dogshit.
♪ ♪
Hey, how many bullets can you get for five dollars?
What for?
Andy Warhol.
(gunshot)
WOMAN: I thought we had what it takes to make a marriage work.
MAN: We must make our marriage work, dear.
WOMAN (exhales): I don't get it.
Do I not know my husband is a homosexual?
Uh...
No.
You divorce your husband, Taylor,
'cause he wants a surfer, too,
and, uh, he's gonna seduce Tom...
...get Tom to urinate
all over him,
and then Taylor's gonna say...
"I'm a real surfer now."
Uh, let's, uh, take a break.
It's been long enough... I want my script back.
I'm sorry, Valerie, I can't find it.
You lost it?
That was my only copy.
You promised you were gonna make Up Your Ass into a movie.
- Did you even read it? - It was so obscene,
I thought you were an undercover cop trying to entrap me.
You lost it on purpose.
'Cause you can't stand to have a woman succeed.
(clicks tongue) Oh, Valerie...
you know women can't be serious artists.
Why not?
(sighs): Well, uh...
women can be beautiful.
Be a model.
Or an actress.
I could strangle you right now.
I want to wipe that smug expression
- off your pale, - (pounds table)
patriarchal face!
PAUL: Okay, that is enough. We've indulged your tantrums
- No! No! No! Don't touch me! - Long enough, Valerie.
- You need to get out! Okay. - Don't touch me!
(woman giggling nearby)
Isn't she great?
(gunshot)
(elevator stops)
(inhales, exhales deeply)
I told you already, okay? Andy's not coming in.
You can come back next week.
♪ ♪
(imitates gunshot)
(door creaking)
Hi, Valerie.
(phone rings)
Factory.
Hi, Viva.
Uh, yes, he is actually here.
I can get him for you.
Andy, Viva would like to talk to you, please.
WARHOL: Oh, no.
Yeah?
Valerie.
You put on makeup today.
You look pretty.
PAUL: Valerie, uh, you can see that we're really busy.
- You need to leave. - WARHOL: Oh.
(Warhol speaking indistinctly)
- (woman screams) - Oh!
- (gunshot) - (Warhol gasps)
(thump echoes)
You had too much control over my life.
Down with the patriarchy.
Suck my dick, Warhol!
(panting)
- (gunshot) - (grunts)
(Warhol grunts quietly)
♪ ♪
Breaking news out of Brookfield Heights, Michigan.
Five people are dead and one is wounded...
...in an apparent mass shooting at a crowded mall.
Residents were there for a campaign rally
for city council candidate Kai Anderson.
NEWSMAN: ...when area woman Meadow Wilton opened fire
on the crowd.
- We are impenetrable. We are... - (crowd chanting)
- (gunshot) - (screaming, shouting)
NEWSWOMAN: Ms. Wilton shot the young politician
and then killed three more bystanders
before turning the gun on herself.
NEWSMAN: A second individual, Allyson Mayfair-Richards,
is in police custody tonight.
So far, she refuses to speak.
"My wife's actions were politically motivated.
"She wrote at length in her diary
"about her anger over Hillary Clinton's loss,
"vowing payback against Trump supporters.
She specifically mentioned Kai Anderson as her target."
NEWSMAN: The eyes of the nation
are fixed on Brookfield Heights,
as Kai Anderson, the brave young man
who survived a would-be assassin's bullet,
awaits the results of his run for city council.
I just found out I'm polling 20 points ahead.
We won!
Yes!
Yes! We did it!
Thank you so much.
- Oh. - (phone chimes)
Holy shit.
I just got a retweet from Eric Trump.
Can I help you?
I don't go for this theatrical bullshit.
You're bullshit.
A bullshit puppet.
I can see your strings.
You've lost your way.
All women have.
Used to be easy to know a man-cult when you saw one.
Before the lies
that blinded us to the inequalities.
The male wants desperately
to be led by females.
He wants Mama to be in charge.
But we keep giving away
the natural order of things.
I know what it means
to assassinate a man.
That pantomime the other night...
wasn't that, let me tell you.
What are you?
Homeless?
Schizo?
You want a couple of bucks to get high?
Pretty convenient for her to miss her mark like that.
She could have walked right up to him
and bam, right in the cock!
Why didn't she?
Reunion Hotel, room 12.
(cigar sizzles)
Give me a ring-a-ding
when you're ready to hear the truth, sister.
♪ ♪
(doorknob rattles)
(door unlocks)
- Who the hell are you? - Who the hell are you?
I'm Beverly motherfuckin' Hope,
and you're gonna want to get the hell out of my way.
I don't have time for this bullshit. Kai!
KAI: Gentlemen.
This is not how we treat
a distinguished member of the press.
And our dear friend.
Come inside.
What's going on?
Who are all these people?
Volunteers.
From all over.
Milwaukee, Cincinnati, Birmingham.
- (grunts loudly) -Looking to be a part of history.
It's all happening.
People are hearing us and answering the call.
BEVERLY: We're losing momentum.
Right now, people are terrified, off-balance.
We need to build on that, take it to the next level.
We need...
...fresh blood.
What the public is craving now
is stability.
I promised them law and order, and I'm gonna give it to them.
That's not what we agreed to.
What happened to setting the world on fire?
(men chuckling)
Beverly...
you worry too much.
We've succeeded.
The nation knows my name, and it's all thanks to you.
You've done a phenomenal job.
Now it's time to sit back for a moment.
Take a break.
Kai...
we agreed to equal power.
That's not what this feels like.
You need to trust me.
Trust is the only thing that forges real partnership.
Did Meadow put her trust in you?
Meadow was a troubled soul.
I've got city council business to attend to.
Keep up the good work.
- It's time to go, Beverly. - Don't touch me!
(men chuckling)
(door unlocks)
I've been expecting you.
Come in.
- WINTER: So no one knows where she is? - The cops took her away.
She could be with the FBI or the state police. I don't know.
God knows I wasn't gonna be Ally's one phone call.
I called Samuels to check into it,
- but he won't pick up. - You're wasting your time.
He's part of that sausage fest in my brother's basement.
No girls allowed.
- So, you think Ally's going to talk? - (Knocking)
(exhales) About what?
She doesn't know anything.
- (knocking) - That she can prove.
- You guys are closed tonight, right? - Yeah, it's Monday.
What's so important that you wanted us to meet here...
- Who's this? - Her name is Bebe Babbitt.
She found me, and she wants to help us.
You ladies have really stepped in it.
Shouldn't she be talking to Kai?
No. That's the whole point.
We thought this whole thing would get us some damn respect.
He promised us a seat at the table,
but now that he has this bullshit seat
and national fame, he's doing what men always do:
- push the women aside. - BEBE: Silly girls
are all stupid and doomed.
History may change,
but herstory always repeats itself.
It's true.
They con women into electing them,
then they defund Planned Parenthood
and force us to get transvaginal ultrasounds
before we can get an abortion.
Tell them what you told me.
Tell them about Valerie.
Valerie was the love of my life.
- ♪ ♪ - She was an artist,
an intellectual, a writer...
a visionary.
Her name was Valerie Solanas.
The one who shot Andy Warhol?
I learned about her in my women's studies class at Vassar.
She was one crazy bitch.
The world was crazy... she was the only one who was sane.
The bullets she put in Andy Warhol
were the first shots of a revolution.
(gunshot)
By the time Valerie was 15, she had given birth twice,
inseminated by her father, or her stepfather,
it could have been either.
I first met her in her room at the Chelsea Hotel
in late '67.
She was 30 by then, and had just written
her masterwork, the SCUM Manifesto,
and would give stage readings.
It cost a dollar for women to come listen, $2.50 for men.
"The male is completely egocentric,
"trapped inside of himself,
"incapable of empathizing with others,
of love or friendship, affection or tenderness."
BEBE: The SCUM Manifesto was the first time
someone had clearly laid out the radical thesis
that men were the real problem in society.
Has a woman ever started a war?
- OTHERS: No. -Are the polluting, Earth-murdering CEOs
of Standard Oil or Dow Chemical women?
- OTHERS: No. - Do women wait
in dark hallways at night to rape men
as they come home from work?
- Heck, no! -Hell, no. -Do women molest their daughters?!
- No! -No! - Do women pervert art
into commerce like some men we all know?
- No. - BEBE: She collected
a devoted group of followers from those readings...
The street girls, hookers, throwaways.
There was Hedda... Abandoned in an orphanage
until she aged out and ended up on the streets.
Loxi... shittiest hooker in all of Manhattan.
Martha... The only black bisexual pimp
I've ever heard of to this da.
And butchy May, who was on the run
for killing a guy down south somewhere.
VALERIE: Talk doesn't work with men.
The only way to win is to anti-assimilate
and play their game.
To do to them what they have been doing to us
since the dawn of time.
This planet will not move forward
until we get our hands bloody
- and murder every fuckin' man on it! - I've got a few
I'd like to shove to the front of the damn line.
That's the spirit, Martha.
BEBE: Even though our mission was to destroy all the men,
there were some who were allowed...
Men like Bruce and Maurice.
They were creeps. Masochists. And homosexuals.
SCUM stands for the Society for Cutting Up Men.
Our goal is to kill all men
who are not a part of the men's auxiliary of SCUM.
These include little limp-wristers
like Bruce and Maurice here, who by shining,
flaming example, encourage other men
to de-man themselves.
Any man present must give a speech
beginning with the words...
I am a turd,
a lowly abject turd.
And why should we let you stay, turd?
Because men have hurt me, too.
Rejected me.
Raped me in the showers in the barracks.
Fine, gender-traitor,
you can stay... for now.
Listen to this.
"The sick, irrational men...
"those who attempt to defend themselves
"against their own disgustingness
"when they see SCUM barreling down on them...
"will cling in terror to Big Mama
"with her big, bouncy boobies,
but boobies won't protect them from SCUM."
(cheering, whooping)
BEBE: We relocated to San Francisco,
where the culture was really happening.
Once we were settled,
the ultimate plan appeared,
fully formed in Valerie's beautiful mind.
(music playing quietly)
I don't want you to go.
Yeah, but wars need martyrs.
And they need to be loud.
We need to make them face their greatest fear...
Their pussy envy... And we need to do it
in the only language that these half-apes understand,
and that's violence.
Remember what I told you? About where to start?
Couple-busting?
VALERIE: It's not just men
who are the problem.
It's women who think that by spreading their legs for a man,
they gain value.
They're lost.
So we have to kill them both
to send a message.
(laughter, cheering)
(cheering fades)
What do you want us to do when you're gone?
Get the fabric to make the scum-colored cloaks
like I told you, and get the gun.
Then wait for my signal and go to work.
What's the signal?
You'll know.
(gunshot)
BEBE: Shooting Andy was the signal for us to act.
We staked out a lovers lane,
picked the first couple we came upon.
- Wrong place, wrong time. - (whooshing)
Did you see that?
Oh, there's... raccoons out here, ducks.
♪ ♪
- (gunshot) - (gasps)
DAVID: What the hell?
You could've killed us.
(thump echoes)
(screaming)
(gunshot)
SCUM is impatient.
SCUM will not be consoled by the thought
that future generations will thrive.
HEDDA: SCUM wants to grab
some thrilling living for itself.
♪ ♪
WINTER: Hold on.
David Faraday and Betty Lou Jensen?
Those were the first victims of the Zodiac Killer.
I've seen that Fincher movie, like, 50 times.
It's my Baby Einstein.
Y-You didn't kill them; the Zodiac did.
Haven't you been listening, ingrate?
That was Valerie's plan all along.
We were the Zodiac.
- IVY: The Zodiac Killer? - They were SCUM killings.
All murders ascribed to the so-called Zodiac
were really the work by the Society for Cutting Up Men.
Except no men were cut up, were they?
Stabbed, yes; shot.
And just as many of them were women.
What did I say? The plan was to start with couple-busting.
To send the message to women
that coupling with men would only get them killed.
It's all in Valerie's manifesto.
(gunshot)
You look beautiful today.
Oh, thank you. (giggles quietly)
There's someone else here.
BEBE: Everything we did was meticulous.
Valerie planned everything down to the last detail.
Pass it to the women, turd.
Hold it up.
Look through the sight.
What do you see?
LOXI: Crosshairs.
VALERIE: And in those crosshairs... men.
'Cause we're gonna use their own invention to obliterate them.
And once we begin to rid the Earth of this pestilence,
our fellow women will realize they have nothing to fear
from the evolutionarily inferior male.
And they are going to rise up and join us.
- But a few of these bitches - (screaming)
- are gonna have to die first. - (screaming)
BEBE: Her assassination
of that phony Warhol was her signal
for us to begin her work.
It was the first shot fired in a revolution.
Everything else she directed from her cell
at the Matteawan Hospital for the Criminally Insane
in New York.
And it was beautiful.
Everything according to plan.
But then someone started sending letters to the newspapers.
VALERIE: Who the fuck is the Zodiac?!
I'm speechless. I don't understand.
Somebody,
(over phone): some piece of shit man
is taking credit for our work by sending explicit details
of the murders to the paper, then making people solve
this crazy crossword thing?
- It-It's a cipher. - It's bullshit.
Some illiterate with a dick that's using our hard work
go gain attention for himself!
YOUNG BEBE: Well, it's good, isn't it?
They won't be looking for us.
It's ours. We thought of it.
We're doing it.
People should fear us, not some anonymous man
who has trouble spelling simple words.
Then let's take credit.
- Let people know these are SCUM murders. -No.
We have an agenda. We do not release who we are
until a thousand people are dead, okay?
We will reverse the power structure
and regain our rightful place at the apex.
Women will cut off the dead weight of the patriarch
and divorce will sweep the country.
Valerie, you're not making sense.
Makes sense to me, and I'm the boss.
It's my manifesto. Not now.
YOUNG BEBE: Maybe this is...
some elaborate trap set by the police.
I know exactly what it is.
The goddamn leeches, men!
They want everything.
Their egos won't let them accept anything less.
They need to be the agents of creation and chaos,
and they will not stop until the whole world
is in their grubby little hands!
(phone slams)
BEBE: While Valerie was in the nuthouse,
there was one other murder attributed to Zodiac.
The taxi driver Paul Stine.
It wasn't us, it was the imposter.
The public had accepted that a man was the killer.
His identity remained a mystery.
Once Valerie was out,
she made her way back to us in San Francisco.
(gunshot)
VALERIE: Some people
go to jail and find God.
(laughs): One person in my block even mastered...
the flute.
But when I was in the joint,
I had an altogether more personal epiphany,
one that I think will surprise many of the people here tonight.
And that is that I, Valerie Solanas,
author of the SCUM Manifesto,
was dead fuckin' wrong about men.
I made a mistake.
I opened the door just enough
so that a few swingin' dicks could come in.
I thought for sure there had to be one or two
inoffensive men willing to help with our cause,
but you know what I learned when I was in the clink?
There are no exceptions.
Why don't you stand up, Maurice.
Come on, chop-chop.
Do it, turd!
Is there anything you've been wanting to get off your chest?
Uh, I'm a turd.
Uh, an abject lowlife piece of garbage
- who's not fit to... - No.
I mean, yes, you are a turd. But I'm looking for a...
new confession.
Wh-What's that? A new play?
- Your next manifesto? - Oh, come on,
I'm supposed to believe that you never seen this, asshole?
That it wasn't wedged under your bed as recently as last night
with a healthy collection of beefcake magazines?
Same code, same handwriting
that was splashed across the Chronicle, the Examiner,
- the Vallejo Times! -We know you wrote the letters, turd.
It's not mine. I'm-I'm not the Zodiac.
Fess up, Maurice.
Just like a man to take credit for the work
of a woman.
Valerie, please...
Valerie, please, I-I'm nothing.
- I'm a turd. I'm just a turd. - You did this
to yourself, Maurice... You've got no one else
to blame but yourself.
- (Valerie yells) - (screams, cries)
VALERIE: Nice watch, Bruce!
Your willingness to let your fellow man, Maurice,
meet my blade while you just stood by silently
says more about your sex than a million manifestos.
I've seen your chicken scratch, Bruce.
No cipher can hide piss-poor penmanship!
(crying): I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry. I didn't want to.
I'm weak. I'm a weakling.
But I'm still a man!
(sobbing loudly)
- (sobbing continues) - VALERIE: Stand up!
- (chair clatters) - Women of SCUM...
- BRUCE: No. -...Men have always helped themselves
to our glory.
- But tonight... - (crying): No.
...there are consequences.
Tonight, we carve out our future.
- Tonight, we will say to the patriarchy... -No!
- ...to go fuck yourself. - (screaming, crying)
- Get him! - (women screaming, grunting)
(women's screams echo)
(low, indistinct police radio chatter)
Poor fella.
His dick and balls are missing.
Uh...
no, they're not.
OFFICER: Betty Lou Jensen,
David Faraday, Darlene Ferrin,
Cecelia Shepard.
These are the Zodiac killings.
SCUM killings, actually. But yes.
You're telling me you are the Zodiac Killer?
That's correct.
You got any proof?
No. I was not present for the actual murders.
Well, where were you?
I was masterminding the whole thing
from the Matteawan Institute for the Criminally Insane.
Uh-huh. I'm gonna ask you to leave now, miss.
- (chair clatters) - You are a fool to underestimate
the rage of a woman!
I've been married 20 years...
That's the last thing I underestimate.
I'm not your wife. You can't just ignore me.
Your kind will be obliterated, killed off like dogs,
and SCUM will rule the Earth.
And you'll see. You'll all see.
No! Get your hands off me!
- No! No! -BEBE: It was like she had pulled off
the heist of the century, and no one cared.
- I am the Zodiac...! - No one believed her.
It just made her snap!
We have to think bigger.
'Cause the man in the moon,
(laughs): oh, he's a woman, my friends.
And when we're done, no one will be able to deny
that SCUM was the dawn of the revolution.
So, guess what?
I've made a hit list.
Some real disgusting motherfuckers.
Like this asshole, Hugh Hefner,
who's clearly threatened by our feminine power,
so he subjugates and attacks our self-worth
and our evolutionarily superior female bodies!
Billy Graham... useless fuckin' oppressor of women.
Bobby Riggs,
Steve McQueen.
Steve McQueen... He's the worst of all.
He took Ali MacGraw from us, squandered her God-given talent,
and now she's a housewife in fuckin' Malibu.
BEBE: Everything fell apart.
Our crew scattered.
Our momentum lost.
The schizophrenia had taken hold.
She wasn't making any sense.
I couldn't get through to her.
It broke my heart to see her like that.
I couldn't be part of it anymore.
Valerie never stopped.
Her mind just kept going.
Oh, she was convinced
the patriarchy was out to crush her,
and she set out to create a definitive record
of every offense for all the world to see.
WARHOL: Oh, Valerie.
You've really let yourself go.
You've gained so much weight.
What the hell are you doing here?
You fucked with the keys on my typewriter, didn't you?
That's just like you, Daddy,
always trying to impede the progress of the female mind.
I'm here to set you free.
How can I be angry with you for operating
within your feminine means?
You just didn't know any better, so...
I forgive you.
(yells) I've had men trying
to shut me up since I was a little girl.
What is it about little girls that scares men so much?
Why won't they let us be artists or scientists?
Why is it only men who can create "great art,"
as you call it?
The game is rigged, you know.
And the people making the decisions, the critics,
they're all men.
You men, so terrified of what we might do,
you keep us stupid,
you keep us complacent.
You hold all the power.
(crying): Even now, no one sees me as a writer,
no one see me for my own thoughts.
When they hear the name Valerie Solanas,
they think "Andy Warhol."
You've taken my art.
You've taken my life.
You've taken my motherfucking legacy.
Who are you kidding?
Shooting me will be the only thing you'll be remembered for.
I am your legacy.
(chuckles)
(yells)
(car horn honks in distance)
She had been beaten down one too many times.
She died alone...
used up...
spit out by the world.
Like Meadow.
Like you all will be...
if you let your minds be twisted up
by the machinations and petty squabbles of men.
We're just cannon fodder.
Expendable.
You must reclaim the power...
before the maggots take you whole.
Before it's too late.
We have to strike back.
And this time...
we won't miss.
♪ ♪
Do you think they'd be proud of me?
What I've accomplished?
Yeah. Why are you asking?
There's just so much pressure on me now.
Am I worthy...
of the responsibility that's been hoisted upon my shoulders?
You can be screwed up,
and I don't agree with everything you do,
but you're my brother...
and I love you.
(chuckles softly)
The crown is heavy, Winter.
I'm making hard choices...
every day.
Even harder ones going forward.
This thing we're putting together, it's real,
and it's gonna change the world.
But I can't do it alone.
Followers are followers.
I tell them what they want to hear, and they will obey me.
You and me...
are family, though.
That matters.
I need to know I can count on you, Winter.
Can I count on you?
Of course. What the hell, Kai?
(softly): Thanks.
Hey, Winter?
What's this?
I found it in your room when I was looking for your Adderall.
It's just one of my old college books.
The ramblings of some crazy bitch.
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
(exhales)
Don't say that.
I was reading this, and it is...
fascinating.
Inspiring.
Really?
I've gotten this far on personality.
Charisma got me in the door,
but to take it to the next level,
I need a philosophy, a mission statement,
something they can put in the history books...
Preferably...
(chuckles): with a catchy title.
So... you're gonna write a book?
No, I don't have time for that shit.
I'm just gonna release something on social media.
But...
I was testing out titles like... SCUM.
What do you think of FIT?
Fear Is Truth.
What about...
MLWB?
Men Lead...
Women Bleed.
I think that one might piss off the wrong people.
Yeah, I didn't like that one, either.
That one was Harrison's idea.
I think he's got a serious hang-up about women.
(Kai takes deep breath)
Anyway...
(clears throat softly)
Thanks for talking, sis.
Can I have some more alone time with Mom and Dad?
No problem. I've got some shit
I got to take care of anyway.
Say hi to the girls for me.
HARRISON: I spoke to Kai earlier... he has no idea.
IVY: That's good. It's supposed to be a surprise.
HARRISON: Yeah. He deserves a victory party.
Hey. You know what I want to make for him?
The Iron Throne from Game of Thrones.
Some of the guys that have joined us are welders,
and I have these prop swords from The Golden Compass...
One of Nicole's lesser successes.
(sighs)
(whispers): It's gonna be awesome.
Kai's your king?
Don't you think that's a little too much?
What do you know about anything?
HARRISON: Uh... are we early?
WINTER: No. You're right on time.
You were supposed to get Kai. Where is everybody?
The surprise is, you're the guest of honor.
"The male likes death... It excites him sexually,
"and, already dead inside,
he wants to die."
Who's this crazy bitch?
(saw whirring)
(grunting, shrieking)
(quietly): Jesus.
What do you want from me?
- Answers. - Okay.
- (saw stops) - What happened to Meadow?
Kai wanted Ally to save her.
So I let her do it... I didn't know she was gonna
- blow her own brains out. - You should have known.
You were her husband, and you let her be manipulated.
Oh, now you want to talk about protecting our wives?!
I just drove my wife crazy. I didn't get her killed!
(trembling breath)
Her death...
had more meaning than any moment in her pathetic life.
And you know that.
And this is all Kai!
Kai's the genius!
He's the author of everything!
WINTER: What about Men Lead, Women Bleed?
- You came up with that. - What? No, I didn't.
Even if you just said it to impress
your new SS-wannabe boyfriends, it's disgusting.
- I never said it! -BEVERLY: Now would be the time to deny it.
Not that we would ever believe you.
You of all people know what it's like to be marginalized,
pushed out.
You're a gay man.
- I'm a man! - (saw whirring)
- And we are SCUM! - No!
(Harrison screaming)
(screaming continues)
Put him out of his misery.
HARRISON: No!
(screams)
This is Beverly Hope reporting.
Violence has erupted in Brookfield Heights once again
with the macabre murder of Funtime Fitness Gym trainer,
Harrison Wilton.
Pieces of Mr. Wilton's dismembered corpse
were found by joggers early this morning,
placed in a grisly arrangement.
The body was covered in a film of scum from the pond behind me.
Police have yet to determine a motive,
but due to the gruesome nature of the crime,
believe the killing could be in retaliation to the shooting
committed by the victim's wife, Meadow Wilton.
Clearly, the promise of law and order
in Brookfield Heights is not being kept.
I can only pray this latest murder
is not a sign of things to come.
This is Beverly Hope.
Back to you in the studio.
They're at their best when they're angry.
Don't you think?
Aren't we all?