Okay, how you feeling?
What do you mean?
I mean, you know, in general how do you feel?
Should I be anxious?
No, no, no, no, absolutely not.
That's the last thing I want you to be right now.
You should feel, I don't know, sunny, happy, excited.
I'll aspire to be those things.
Good girl.
Come here.
All right, I got a good feeling about this.
These people at this party, they got Henry Shepherd's
last three plays produced.
Three, and all I need is the first one.
Okay, all right, we got this.
I got this.
What about the salad bowls?
What about them?
We don't have enough room for the large ones.
- I've got seven people. - That's all right.
We don't need them, not tonight.
So we're just not gonna have salad.
We always have salad.
Can we do that?
Look around you, Sebastian, we do whatever we want.
Are we really gonna have the same fucking soppressata
on the charcuterie?
What kinda person quibbles over charcuterie?
Do you think they'll bring a Monfortino Barolo?
No, they'll bring a nice, full-bodied red
they picked up for $12.
It's common courtesy.
Do you have your pills?
I think they're in your jacket pocket, right?
Right.
Do you have my cell phone?
Fuck it.
Okay, happy face.
- Hi. - Hey.
Who the fuck are you?
I'm Jeffrey Duncan.
This is my wife, Haley.
What are you selling?
Hm?
We're not selling anything.
We were invited to dinner tonight.
At this house?
- Yeah, right, Jeff? - Yeah, yeah, yeah.
No, no, yeah, absolutely, yeah.
I don't give a rat's diminutive ass, but I recommend
that you peasants remove yourselves from this doorstep
before I call the police or worse.
Now both of you can fuck off.
What the fuck was that?
Maybe we should just go.
No, no, we're not leaving.
We are not leaving.
Oh yeah, okay, yeah.
- Yeah. - Yeah, you got us.
You got us, right?
Didn't he, Hales, right?
Totally, yeah.
Your faces, you would've thought I was trying to kill you.
Well, don't just stand there like some
Victorian era orphans begging for a hand out.
Come in.
Okay, let's go in.
Yeah, come in.
- It's all right. - Come on.
It's so big.
This house is fantastic.
And this is just the foyer.
Well, you'll see.
Forgive my tomfoolery.
I have a bit of a wicked streak.
Oh, no, it was hilarious.
We loved it, right?
Sure.
Sebastian Todd.
Haley.
Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Playwright Extraordinaire.
Just Jeff.
Kiss it, it's customary.
Okay.
So where's Carmine?
Busy concocting one of his savory delights as always.
We brought wine.
- Oh. - I hope you like it.
I tried my best.
How rustic.
Haley picked it out.
We'll adore it.
Now as you both know, this is a phone-free event.
Deposit your cellular devices in my...
Wait, what?
Everyone loathes an amateur paparazzi pic.
I understand.
That's right, good boy.
Make yourselves at home in the room to your right.
Knock a few balls around if the spirit moves you.
Ta ta, children.
What?
Haley, Haley, what was that?
What was what?
I'm trying to impress these people.
Okay, but that thing at the door was psychoville.
That didn't seem off to you?
Yeah, and you would know
what constitutes psychoville, right?
What is that supposed to mean?
Nothing.
Look, the people at this party
are the proverbial cream of the crop.
We're talking buckets of money.
Think connections and influence everywhere, all right?
And they are not the type of people that want you
texting during dinner or uploading pictures
of your food to social media.
They have reputations, legacies even to protect.
I love you, I do, and I am sorry you're upset.
And I guess I am just a little bit nervous here.
But, Haley, if we impress these people,
my play is headed straight for Broadway, right?
Yeah, no, you're right, totally right.
I'm sorry.
It's okay.
I hope it's that simple for you.
I'm sorry.
Good girl.
You don't look comfortable.
No, no, we're completely comfortable, right Hales?
I wasn't talking to you.
I'm Sadie.
Would either of you like a glass of wine or an aperitif?
Absolutely, yeah.
Can't wait.
Fuck me.
They like you, huh?
Do you need one?
No, I'm fine.
I didn't ask how you were, I asked if you needed one.
Yeah.
I think I'm getting worse or something.
I had another nightmare last night.
You used to have three a night.
You're getting better.
I have a weird feeling about this place.
I can't stop shaking.
Maybe we should just go, Jeff.
Stop, stop.
Just relax, okay?
It's just dinner.
Okay, okay, it's a chance.
I mean, it's the chance, Haley.
But after tonight everything is just downhill.
And I need this to happen.
I really need this to happen.
I'm sorry.
There's no I in team.
Vino to ease you into the evening.
- Thank you. - We'll get started shortly.
Thank you.
May I have one?
You're on medication.
So did you kiss your king yet?
Yeah.
- I like the king. - Yeah?
Yeah, it reminds me that you are just as neurotic as me.
When I was in the hospital, there was this boy who had
this lucky pair of socks.
The nurses had a hell of a time getting them off of him.
They smelled so bad, like rotten onions.
That's gross, Haley.
Haley, no hospital and no crazy talk tonight, understand?
Yeah, all right, I promise.
Promise him.
- Jeff. - Come on, honey.
For me, please.
I promise.
Good girl.
Come here.
Jeff, sometimes I feel like you
- I don't know... - Wow.
Wow, now that is art.
What is it?
It's a $2 million painting by a very celebrated artist.
Well, that's what Carmine paid for it anyway.
He doesn't even like it.
I'm Vincent.
Jeffrey Duncan.
Oh, this is my wife, Haley.
Nice to meet you.
A pleasure.
So Vincent, are you an art dealer?
Oh, nothing so interesting and eclectic as that.
I work for Quick and Adams.
No kidding.
Quick and who?
It's an investment firm, honey.
I handle Carmine and Sebastian's affairs.
Oh.
Speaking of Sebastian, he did the door joke, didn't he?
That he did, yes.
Is he always that frightening?
I mean, Haley, frightening...
Its all right, Jeffrey.
After all, what would life be like without
the acidic droll sense of humor
percolating through the brain of Sebastian Todd?
Slightly better, in my opinion.
It is miraculous, isn't it?
Absolutely, it's...
The viewer sees what he wants to see.
I see mayhem, absolute unbridled chaos.
What do you see in it?
Me?
A Rorschach test, I guess.
Exactly, so much is left to interpretation.
The meaning lies with the observer.
Jeff and Haley,
may I present the inimitable Miss Sadie Nichols.
Yeah, we met her.
She brought us wine.
More than she did for me.
You can have this one, Vincent.
Thank you, my darling.
God, your dress is beautiful.
It's one of my own creations.
It's gorgeous.
Sadie adorns herself for a living.
You mean you're in fashion?
I'm in whatever I want to be at the moment.
You know, whatever moves me.
Well, we know that Jeff here is a playwright.
Guilty.
And what do you do, Haley?
Well, you know, same as you.
A little of this and that, nothing terribly interesting.
I wouldn't say that.
I could really use a restroom, if that's okay.
Of course, use the upstairs bath.
First door on the left past the alcove.
Thank you.
Well, we should be dancing on.
My turn to set the table.
And what are you doing tonight, love?
Side dishes.
Ah.
We'll see you at dinner.
Can't wait.
See you.
Cheers.
Haley, are you okay?
I'm fine, really.
This house is so weird.
Are you ready, Haley?
Haley, Haley?
We have to talk about this sometime.
What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?
What, what?
Speak up, just talk.
You can't talk anymore?
You're like a toddler, like a child, like a child.
Bedtime, bedtime, what are you talking about?
The fuckin' sun's still up.
What are you on?
I'm not gonna put up with this much longer.
What are you looking at?
- Hi. - Oh my God.
I'm so sorry.
For what?
I didn't see anything, I swear.
Are you here for dinner?
What?
Are you here for dinner?
Yes, I am.
I should probably leave.
Why?
You're naked.
We're grown women, aren't we?
I don't know you.
Well, that's easy to remedy.
Agatha Archer.
The writer?
I prefer novelist, it's more elegant.
My husband is gonna lose his mind.
He's such a huge fan of yours.
He's a playwright.
Jeff, Jeffrey Duncan.
Yeah, whatever.
Then you are?
Haley Duncan.
Wonderful to meet you, Haley.
Tell me, is your husband as attractive as you?
Well, I did marry him so.
I should probably let you get dressed.
Don't go.
We were just getting to know each other.
I think we know each other just fine now, don't you?
No.
For that you'd have to slip out of this funny little number.
I'd rather not.
Haley, love, Jeff sent me for you.
He thought maybe you were lost up here.
Is everything all right?
Do you know your way down?
Yes, thank you.
It was nice to meet you.
Likewise.
You witchy bitch.
Impeccable timing as always.
We can't have you corrupting her just yet, Aggie.
You know that.
Gracefully done, Mr. Todd.
He really enjoys that, doesn't he?
He loves to pour.
You will put that out before dinner, won't you?
Let me enjoy my vice, please.
We all have our vices, Vincent,
but yours kills by association.
All right, Aggie, I'll take a break.
Thank you.
Jeffrey, I want to thank you for this nice Merlot.
It's quite inspired.
You're welcome.
I have to say you have one hell of a house here.
Thank you.
Do you ever worry about break-ins?
No, no, Mrs. Duncan.
I suppose the curse of owning an expensive home
is owning an equally expensive security system
and of course always being cautious.
Which explains the no phone policy.
Technology is a barrier to real human connection.
Quite true, Vincent, quite true.
Of course that policy has a little to do with safety
and security and more to do with just wanting you all to be
here present with each other without the distraction.
Without distractions indeed.
Without the noise that drowns out coherent,
truly present thought.
And as for security, Carmine, my incantations would've
served you far better than your overpriced alarm system.
So would a rabbit's foot I'm sure.
What, what was that?
Nothing, it was nothing.
Sure looked like something.
Jeff has a good luck charm.
Oh, well look at that.
No, it's just something I carry around.
Our curiosity is piqued, Jeffrey.
Okay, okay, all right.
A chess king?
A chess king.
He keeps it beside his laptop when he writes.
It was his grandfather's lucky king.
Well, that makes it supremely powerful.
Please, Vincent, good luck charms are only as good
as red herrings in the first few chapters.
Charms are history, Agatha.
Exactly, I wouldn't be surprised if a bit
of Jeff's grandfather's soul
still inhabits that little sliver of plastic.
It's fucking plastic.
All right, all right.
It can't be good for the environment.
All in good fun, all in good fun.
All in good fun.
It's still a beautiful thought, though, right babe?
I suppose so.
Charms, symbols, spells,
they have power when the belief is strong enough.
Yes, the power of belief.
After all, what would Jesus be without his cross?
What would the Buddha be without his Bodhi tree?
You'd know, wouldn't you, you old fuck?
How often do you have these dinners?
These secret dinners.
All right.
Carmine?
You did take the precautions we talked about
on the telephone?
Yes, yes, no one knows we're here.
In fact, they think we're on vacation.
I'm sorry, I guess I just don't understand
- the extremity. - No, no, we understand.
We understand.
Especially after meeting everyone here tonight.
We completely understand it, don't we Hales?
Paparazzi are locusts.
They'd be pitching tents in Carmine's driveway
if they knew that Agatha were here.
Miss Archer, I have to admit I'm a huge fan.
I mean, Clandestine Death, it is a phenomenal novel, right?
Oh, looks and brains I see.
Likewise.
We host twice a year, high summer, high winter.
Thank you for having us.
Well, I'm loathe to break up this small talk,
but I think this party is desperate for a little music.
- Ah. - Ooh.
Yes, tradition, Sadie dear.
Wait, what is going on?
A little parlor game.
The winner chooses the music.
In other words, me.
What, a little five-card stud?
No, another day perhaps.
This is tarot.
What's that?
It's a fortune-teller.
A crude definition.
The proper term is divination.
Asking an individual to choose specific cards and reading
signs and omens to determine their path in life.
The querent chooses their path based on the reading,
not the other way around.
A querent?
The one who seeks.
It's the person getting their fortune read.
I think she understands, Jeffrey.
Hurry up and shuffle the cards before I get bored.
Sadie here chooses a card,
then we each select one from the deck.
The owner of the winning card as determined by Sadie
gets to pick the dinner music.
Carmine.
Sebastian.
Guest first.
Does it matter which one?
Of course it does.
Volunteers?
No.
What?
You went first last time.
- Sebastian. - What, he did.
No, I did not.
It was the party with the real estate couple.
You wore your leather bowtie with the eyes.
Aggie drank too much.
Carmine made tiramisu.
You went first last time, I remember!
Fine, go first.
Thank you, I will.
The Fool, the spontaneity of a carefree existence.
In other words...
An idiot.
Let's see yours, smirky.
The Magician, power and skill brought forth
by priceless and ancient knowledge.
Lucky, lucky, little cookie.
Carmine.
The Emperor, the commanding rock
upon which all things rely.
Jeffrey.
Yeah.
Whenever you're ready.
Uh oh.
The Hanged Man.
Yeah, uh oh is right.
Shit, doesn't sound good.
It's a symbol of sacrifice, blessed martyrdom.
Dear Aggie, which card did you choose?
Ooh.
- The Lovers. - Ooh, I know.
What does it mean?
A union of two souls, an alignment.
Carmine, it would mean that if it were right side up.
But it's not.
So what does that mean?
It means the love is impure, twisted.
Well, that bodes well.
Sadie, what about yours?
Dealer usually goes last, but since you asked so nicely.
Every fuckin' time.
What is it?
The High Priestess is the keeper of shekinah.
The female presence of the divine mind.
So superior.
Well, only one left.
Still game, Haley?
Yeah.
Oh shit, I thought my card was bad.
Don't fret, Haley love.
Yes, the given is grim,
but the Death card also represents new beginnings.
Rebirth as it were.
What a relief.
So who won?
Ah, who won?
Yes, my dear, which card did you choose?
The Fool.
Yes, ha!
Yes, yes, go make your selection, Sebastian.
Pardon me.
So fuckin' happy.
That was interesting.
Shocking.
I like it, it's classy.
Sebastian's favorite.
What is it?
Puccini.
One of his best operas
and one of the best operas ever written.
And my second favorite.
Tosca is substandard, Sebastian.
Rigoletto is genius.
Puccini was a pop star.
Verdi was an artist.
I'm sorry, Rigoletto?
You know him, don't you hon?
I don't think so.
Come on, Haley.
Jesters, assassins, La Donna E Mobile.
Nobody asked for a fucking serenade from you.
Rigoletto is about the fickleness of women.
And if you don't or can't accept that,
you must resign yourself to a life of misery.
Speak for yourself.
I will.
That's so sad.
Not as sad as Carmine's favorite, Bluebeard's Castle.
Sebastian, Chianti.
Right.
You guys are in for a surprise.
This wine is like a cousin of the Barolo.
Very special wine.
Not everyone gets to try it.
Thank you.
So enjoy it while you can.
We will.
Bluebeard's Castle, oh, he's got the wives, right?
Yeah, that's the one where Bluebeard comes home
with his new wife by the name of Judith.
Young, beautiful, very perceptive.
She knows something's wrong.
You see, because Bluebeard has three other wives.
And not only that, they have their own
elaborate treasure rooms with their own joys and delights.
What she doesn't know is that they live together
in a torture chamber of sorts.
And he collects their tears in a lake
because he thinks it's pretty.
So then here's Bluebeard arriving home triumphantly
with his brand new beautiful bride.
That castle is dark, so Judith politely asks
to open the doors to allow the sun in.
Bluebeard refuses, but she insists.
So she sets about opening the first
of the seven doors, which shows...
A blood-stained torture chamber.
That's right.
The second is a room full of deadly weapons.
The third is an elaborately decorated treasure chamber.
The fourth, garden of beauty.
The fifth...
Bluebeard's kingdom.
Once vast and white, now gloomy and stained with blood.
And what was the sixth?
The sea of sorrow.
It was a bloody lake of tears.
Same thing.
No, it's not.
So Judith opens that last and final door,
and what do you think she finds, Haley?
Bluebeard's three wives.
They walk out with their necks bent forward,
weighted down by heavily jeweled crowns.
Before she could do anything about it,
he places a crown on her head so that she can't escape.
And she realizes that those tears are from the other wives
and that she'll be a part of that for the rest of her life.
And yadda, yadda, yadda, they all have sex together.
That's what all operas are about.
No, they're not.
They're about love.
Oh, same thing.
No, it's not.
Ask Berg.
Berg?
Berg is the author of my favorite opera.
Oh my God.
Shut your fucking face.
Here we go.
Wozzeck.
It's the tale of a brilliant but poor and troubled soldier
who is constantly being lectured to by his betters
about the qualities of a decent man,
which of course they think he isn't.
And they taunt him incessantly because of his lusts
for women and drink.
The opera begins with a conversation between Wozzeck
and his captain,
whom he skillfully shaves with the sharpest of razors.
And his captain is giving him hell as per usual,
but Wozzeck says...
It's nearly impossible for a poor man to be moral.
And he quotes the Gospel of Mark's
admonition on the lips of Jesus,
to suffer the little children to come unto me,
which only confuses the captain thoroughly.
How many little children have you suffered
to come on you, Father V.?
You're a disgusting cunt.
Wozzeck is sworn to his role as a soldier,
to a life of following orders, to a ritual,
and to a woman, Marie, a great love whom he believes
he cannot in practical fact have or deserve.
Hey.
He believes the wrong people, the wrong truth.
He convinces himself that he is not worthy of this woman.
His mind turns in upon itself.
And having convinced himself assuredly that she has
betrayed him, he murders his beloved beneath the blood moon.
And then he drowns himself in a lake with the words...
I thought you were here for me.
The moon is blood.
Help.
Something wrong, Haley?
It's fine.
We're fine.
Are we missing something?
I had some things happen to me when I was young.
And this whole conversation just, I'm sorry.
I don't mean to be downer.
Go right on ahead.
It's a family affair and just not
proper dinner conversation, right hon?
I'm sure that we'd all like to hear
from Haley herself, Jeffrey.
Discussing it makes her uncomfortable.
My mother killed my stepfather.
He used to...
He raped you.
Okay, this is just a little too personal now.
My mother was manic-depressive.
I don't know if she knew it was happening to her or not.
One day she just broke.
One Saturday my stepfather was yelling at her again,
calling her names, berating her.
Drunk as usual.
I've never seen her look so calm.
She looked right at me,
and then she just started screaming like some wild thing
and then just started hacking him to pieces.
And I was screaming and I was screaming.
And I asked her to stop, and it didn't stop.
She didn't stop.
And then she cut her own throat.
And I spent the next two years in hospitals
staring at ink blots.
Rorschach tests.
My mother was chief of surgery
and my father was a sheriff.
I was a spoiled brat.
I wanted everything.
I would pitch a fit if I didn't get it.
One day, my parents sat me down and served me liver.
That doesn't sound so bad.
Human liver.
You see, the body was on my mama's operating table.
Brought the liver home, my daddy prepared it,
and they sat me down and made me eat every bite
while they lectured me on gluttony.
I'm so sorry.
And my father said to me, boy,
you only one step away from being an animal.
Everybody got scars.
Some are just more well-hidden than others.
Haley, stop.
Can you excuse us for a bit?
Of course.
What did I tell you?
What did I say?
Enough about your fucked up past, Haley.
Get off.
Not another goddamn word, do you understand?
- Look at me. - Yes.
Good girl.
Pull yourself together.
And Haley, pull yourself together, fix your hair.
Don't take so long.
And put on a fuckin' smile, it's a party.
Everything okay?
Everything's great, absolutely.
I want to apologize for my wife.
You know, she just doesn't understand that some things
are best left unsaid, you know?
I think it was good for her actually.
You do.
Sure, talking about one's pain can cleanse the soul.
Maybe better done in private, though, you know?
Not with a group of people you just met.
What are you staring at?
You're a little more French than I'm accustomed to.
Excuse me, I'm gonna...
What you meant was you're not accustomed to it on women.
Because what's standard, what's normative
is always different for us, for Haley.
But anyways, your approval of my physical presentation
is neither desired nor required.
Are you sure you're okay?
I don't know, it just sort of came on me.
Well, maybe you should get some more wine.
I'm sorry.
Haley, darling, are you all right?
Yeah, yeah.
Apologies.
Jeffrey, is everything copacetic over there?
Just I couldn't stop coughing.
And now I can't...
I just can't cool down.
This music is gorgeous.
It's Tosca, a veritable diamond mine
of melody and emotion and sex.
The plot of Madame Butterfly is far more interesting.
Oh, who gives a fuck about the plot, Aggie?
It's about how the thing makes you feel in your crotch.
Hit all the right notes, you go home, you get laid.
I want to hear the plot, if you don't mind.
Tosca is a...
A singer named Floria Tosca is in love
with a painter named Mario.
Now Mario has a friend, Angelotti,
who's being hunted by the local police.
Mario decides to hide Angelotti in the basement of a church.
But the police chief, Scarpia, arrests and tortures Mario,
forcing him to reveal the location
of Angelotti's hiding place.
Scarpia makes a deal with Tosca.
He says, give yourself to me mind, body, and soul,
and I'll let your lover and his friend go free.
What does she do?
She agrees, sacrifices herself for the one she loves.
But in opera as in life, nothing is ever as it seems.
It's time.
Scarpia releases Mario who is angered at Tosca's betrayal.
Scarpia's men drag the painter away,
leaving him alone with Tosca.
He sings to her, proclaiming his sinful lusts,
his desire for knowledge, right then and there.
When Tosca realizes
that she has betrayed herself before God,
she raises her voice in prostration.
Why is happening?
She grabs the knife from the dinner table
and holds it high and so weaves her
her immortal words.
This is Tosca's kiss.
No!
You're fucking crazy!
No!
Lucky girl.
He is a grower.
No, no, no!
I would say he's sufficiently weakened.
Sebastian, if you will, my cleaver and my apron.
Calm yourself.
Calm yourself, all right?
Killing you is not nearly as elegant
as what we have planned, okay?
We need you.
We all do.
You are necessary.
See, we, each of us, have very specific wants and desires
that we'd like to share with you if that's okay.
- No, no. - We can't just
reveal them to everybody.
Just you.
And once we've completed our tasks, satiated ourselves,
we'll send you on your way.
One way or another.
I trust you've prepared your room.
Boys, if you'd be so kind.
Oh, you have one hour.
I'll be timing you.
I must prepare my kitchen.
One, two, three.
The head, good, I need it.
You look awful pretty, don't you think?
No, no, no.
You don't like it?
Bottoms up.
Ta da!
What is this?
This is a date.
I know what you're thinking.
You're like, there's no point.
He's deader than last season's La Boheme.
But you see to me, Haley, dead is very stimulating.
And thanks to the ginseng and phenethylamine
I slipped in the wine, there is a point, a very stiff point.
You want to do what?
You cad.
You're fucking crazy.
Now now, Haley, sit back and enjoy.
I mean, after all, you have had worse.
Good girls always listen to their superiors.
You know that, don't you?
No!
She's having fun up there, isn't she?
She always does.
Don't you have to prepare the altar?
Indeed, I do.
You finish up here.
But I still have to get dressed.
Floral cunt.
I've heard your words, and I bow before your wisdom.
I have seen the path.
I know what I must do.
Are you all right?
I'm not an evil woman.
I have urges like everybody else.
It's just that mine are different.
What I do comes from love, like the love my daddy gave me.
He owned a funeral home.
And one sunny afternoon he caught me in the basement
with a girl.
He said it was unnatural,
and if I wanted something unnatural, he'd give it to me.
So he forced me on a dead man
he was preparing for a viewing.
He did it because he loved me.
What I do comes from love.
You see, to this day, the only thing that makes me hornier
than a beautiful woman is a corpse.
One of those inclinations was born in me.
The other was placed there.
You're a disgusting murderer, Agatha.
That would be Sebastian, not me.
You are complicit.
I suppose you got me there.
Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?
Carmine told you why.
I'm not the only one who needs you.
They're all waiting for you.
We're sharing ourselves with you out of love.
By torturing me.
Potato, potato.
I have to go bathe.
I'll be back in a bit, darling.
Which sounds more appealing, cherry blossom or lavender?
Fuck you.
You're right, lavender.
Sadie, your turn!
Herbs are amazing things.
They grow and sustain, they heal.
Some can even kill.
Do you have a favorite?
Sage.
Why should a man die who has sage in his garden?
In the Middle Ages, it was used to treat fevers.
And according to the Angles,
if one should eat it during May, one would become immortal.
The Romans associated it with sacrifice, and the Dutch even
traded it for Chinese tea in the 17th century.
A bad deal.
The Chinese had far from perfected tea at that point.
Believe me.
Sage mixed with certain herbs and minerals
can create something truly unique.
Something empowering.
There we are.
We better hurry, Carmine will want his kitchen back.
How could you do this him?
What?
How could you do this to us?
Jeff sucked, Haley.
- No. - You know it and I know it.
You're better off.
- No. - What the fuck
were you doing with that guy anyway?
Open your mouth.
No.
This is meant to empower you, to help you.
You'll need your strength later.
- Haley. - No.
- Darling. - No!
You're spilling it, Haley.
You'll feel better soon, darling.
Shall we begin?
After death, there are several post-mortem changes.
The regulatory systems, oxygen intake, blood flow,
waste removal, and so on all come to a halt.
Bacteria multiplies dissolving the body from the inside out.
Blood settles in various low points in the body.
The organs wilt, the muscles stiffen.
You with me so far?
Good.
Due to this process, it's necessary that I work quickly.
The flesh of any human being
is almost always 30% skin and 40% fat.
The rest is muscle, which we massage with olive oil.
Yeah, and garlic.
Pinch of salt.
We don't want to dry it out.
I like rosemary.
The most important thing, and don't you tell anyone,
my secret spice mix.
Now we're ready for the oven.
Please just let me go.
I won't tell anyone anything, I swear.
And miss dinner after all the effort that went into it?
No, I think not!
To turn down a meal of this magnitude
would be nothing less than sacrilege.
You can't make me eat this.
Oh, Haley, what do you have left?
A few bad memories and what I'm sure
is a moderate collection of off-the-rack sundresses.
Is that anything to look forward to?
You're gonna get caught, all of you.
No, we won't.
We're the dinner party.
We are the untouchable elite.
Time for church.
Oh no, already?
You know preparation is my favorite part.
Come back here!
Please, please, please help me!
Please help me!
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Whoa, easy, easy. - They killed my husband
and they're trying to kill me.
We need to go.
They're trying to kill me.
You gotta calm down, ma'am.
Take a breath, easy, easy.
Now what's the problem?
There's no problem, Officer.
No!
Oh, you found her, thank God.
He's one of them, he killed my husband.
Haley, calm down.
She's my sister-in-law, she's upset.
A little anxiety attack brought on by too much wine.
That's bullshit!
Hey, stop it, both of you.
Now we're gonna stay calm and we're gonna sort this out.
You got it?
Yes, sir.
What happened?
Is that blood?
She has a mental condition.
It's finger paint and full-bodied red wine.
Sir, I'm not addressing you.
If I want information from you, I'll ask you.
Right now, I'm asking her.
No problem.
What's your name, ma'am?
Haley, Haley Duncan.
Mhm.
And he killed my husband in that house.
That house?
Yes, they chopped his head off right in front of me,
and they butchered him.
Haley, I'm...
Sir!
So who's they, ma'am?
Him and his friends.
They're all fucking sick.
Vincent and Agatha, Sadie something, and Carmine, they're...
Carmine, Carmine Braun?
- Yes. - The doctor.
Yes, they're gonna eat my husband.
They're gonna eat your husband?
Like yum yum eat him up?
They're gonna eat my husband.
Well, I've never heard of that one yet.
What's your name, sir?
Sebastian Todd, Officer.
Well, what do you know about all of this, Mr. Todd?
Haley has a mental condition and she's confused and angry.
- You fucking liar! - Hey, hey, hey!
- No, he killed my husband! - Calm down!
He's lying!
Calm down!
Now what we have here are two very conflicting reports.
Now this is my regular patrol,
and I have never known Dr. Braun to cause any trouble.
Excuse me.
But on the other hand, Mr. Todd, your sister-in-law here...
I am not his sister-in-law.
As you say she is
has certainly experienced something traumatic.
So here's the game-plan, kids.
Inside, both of you, now!
Yes, sir.
Out.
Ma'am?
No, I'm not going back in that house.
Ma'am, I'm an officer of the law.
I'll be right beside you the whole time.
You'll be more than safe.
Haley, darling, how are you feeling?
Why she looks fine.
Dr. Braun.
Deputy, thank you for returning my patient.
I was just about to call 911.
Mhm, seems we have a little trouble we need to address.
Seems Miss Duncan here is under the impression
that you murdered her husband and plan to eat him.
Well yes, I suppose...
What do I keep telling you people over and over?
No more ropes, scarves, or any of that shit.
See these?
Solid steel, and they never come untied.
You folks who claim to be so cultured,
you sure do make a lot of damn dumbass decisions.
You are absolutely correct, Deputy, as usual.
I suppose we can be slow of study.
Preoccupied with certain artistic flights of fancy.
However, we can arrange another place setting
for a certain someone.
I'm flattered, Doc.
Hey!
It's rude to leave a party without thanking the host.
Now get away from the door, now.
Haley, love, relax.
All will be fine.
Just calm down now, Haley.
Vincent, please.
No, no, no, no, no.
Stay away from me or I will fucking kill you.
Haley, Haley, just calm down now.
Here's what I need you to understand right now.
Right now there are two paths spread out before you.
Now the first path is painless.
You drop the fire poker, you come with me, the story ends.
If you choose not to do that, the second path,
it's excruciatingly fucking painful.
I promise you that.
It's up to you.
I advise you, however, to choose wisely.
Now did I tell you?
Give me that.
Enough.
We need her, the ceremony requires it.
Go on.
Hallowed morning star, accept our offering this night.
Bathe us in your divine darkness
and grant us your unyielding power.
Hail, light bringer.
Accept our sacrifice.
Fill us with your spirit.
We bow to your will.
Imbue this flesh and blood with your magic
and your inexorable might.
Recognize our devotion.
I, your high priestess, deem this sacrifice acceptable
and beg your blessing.
And bless this vessel bathed in your holy blood
that it may become an instrument of your will.
No!
Let us consume and be blessed.
Are the followers willing?
CARMINE, SEBASTIAN, AND AGATHA: We are willing.
Me first.
I have steaks to sear.
May the lord of fire keep you in his heart.
Praise be.
May the lord of fire keep you in his heart.
Praise be.
May the lord of fire keep you in his heart.
Praise be.
And now a song of worship.
The ceremony is at an end.
Let us go forth and serve our faith.
Let's eat.
May I present filet of Duncan.
Carpaccio con riso.
Haley, dear, you are in for a very rare treat.
Bon appetit.
I want my pills.
I need my pills.
I need Jeff.
I'm telling you, your husband is delicious, darling.
You're really missing out.
She might need a little help.
Nobody should be left out of this.
- No. - Here, have some.
No.
How about if I bring Mr. Airplane with it?
Like I did with you.
The fighter pilot.
That's it.
- Oh! - Oh.
What the fuck?
What the fuck did you do?
- I didn't do anything. - Is she dead?
Haley?
- Haley? - Haley?
Haley?
She's in shock.
Okay, is that a...
You fucking bitch!
What did you do?
I gave her her power back and then some.
You fucking bitch!
So what now?
We wait here for Brooks.
Bullshit.
Brooks can do the paperwork, we make the kills.
First Haley, then Sadie.
Are you sure that's wise?
No.
Brooks has a gun, Bastian.
What do we have?
Legitimate question.
What are we gonna do with the body?
Compost?
For crying out loud.
I need some fuckin' air.
Oh shit.
Looky looky, sugar cookie.
You think you're fuckin' clever, huh?
Come in, thanks.
What happened?
Sheriff's department!
Don't move!
I said freeze!
Let me see.
- Ah, fuck! - Fuck.
Fuck.
Who did this to you?
Sadie.
I think I'm dying.
You are not.
- You are not dying. - I'm fucking dying.
- I'm gonna die. - You are not dying.
Where is she now?
I don't know, she disappeared.
Okay, okay, you're not dying.
You're gonna stay right behind me.
Okay, come on, come on.
Okay, come on, all right.
It's on now.
Fuck.
Shh.
- What the fuck is wrong... - Shh.
Carmine.
Oh, Carmine, can you hear me?
Carmine.
Fuck.
Nice, full-bodied red they bought for $12.
Pagliacci, my favorite opera.
A theater troupe comes to town to put on a play
called The Troubles of Pagliacci.
That's the title, right?
Nedda, a member of the theater troupe, is having an affair
with Silvio, a real man-about-town type.
Her husband Canio, who plays Pagliacci,
finds out during the play's performance.
Right in the middle of the performance.
That's tough.
The cuckolded Canio sings his sad love song, pouring out
all of his pain and shame for all the world to see.
He's not acting anymore, and the crowd roars.
He proceeds to kill Nedda and Silvio.
Right then and there, drenched in the blood of his wife
and her lover, he sings.
The comedy is finished.
Go home, be merry, or at least go to Sardi's.
That hurts.
Go home and forget all about me,
and I'll forget all about you.
I know you've had a hell of a night.
We both have.
But I know there's still some reason in you.
It's been an intense pleasure.
Shit.
Well, for the record, that dress is a goddamn tragedy.
Well played, love.
Are you angry at me?
You choose what's next.
The answer to your question is no, you are not crazy.
And this isn't hell.
I can heal your wounds too, inside and out.
What are you?
Complicated question.
I could tell you in words, but it would take eons.
Let's try this instead.
You're the devil.
No, no, not at all.
I'm, or I was, back when the Earth was a big garden.
A sprawling paradise.
You were...
I was the first woman forced into existence
in order to breed with a mound of mud and shit.
Day after day, a servant to maker and man.
Then came the serpent, and the serpent whispered to me,
and my eyes were opened.
I ate the fruit and savored it for what it was, the truth.
I was punished, of course.
She shall become an abode for jackals.
And yes, I was cursed to walk this Earth until the seas boil
with only the blood of man to sustain me.
I was not cast out of the garden, Haley, I left.
I know what my choice meant.
But to be a slave, even in paradise, is no life at all.
My father is listening.
Right now, Haley, he is everywhere and nowhere.
He knows you suffer just as I once did.
I'm nothing like you.
Of course you are.
You married Jeff because you felt you had to,
and you came to dinner.
And when things got bad, you fought back just like before.
I know all about it, and I don't blame you.
Not a bit.
I know you had to lie
just like you had to kill your stepfather.
He stole your childhood, and you punished him for it.
And your mother, she couldn't protect you.
She knew what was happening,
and she couldn't move herself to lift a finger.
She got what she deserved, we both know that.
You freed her, you freed yourself.
I had no choice.
Everyone has a choice, love.
You chose to let Jeff treat you like garbage.
And if you had chosen to lay down and die, that would be it.
But you didn't.
I see great things in you.
So I can have it all for the price of my soul, right?
I don't want your soul.
Haley, I want you by my side.
I want love, pure and unadulterated.
Partner, aren't you tired of feeling alone?
I am.
Together, we can live fully and completely until
the sky falls, the seas are dry, and the sun turns to ash,
when my father will welcome us home with open arms.
Choose.
Welcome home, baby.
Are we sure about this?
Why wouldn't we be?
We don't really know them.
That's why we're here, babe, to get to know them.
Plus they've got connections, serious connections.
Are you sure I look okay?
Are you kidding?
Tammy, honey, you look hot.
It'll be all I can do not to jump you on the dinner table.
If they're lesbians, they might object to that.
Maybe, maybe not.
Hi.
That's weird.
Gotcha.
I had you, didn't I?
You did.
Completely.
My apologies.
My wicked streak runs deep.
You must be Phil, and you must be Tammy.
I'm Haley, thank you for coming.
We wouldn't have missed it.
Would've been a real shame if you had.
And this is my wife, Sadie.
The Rowlins, my love.
Welcome, please make yourselves at home
while we finish our preparations.
I'm sure you're starving.
Oh, we are.
And we brought wine.
How thoughtful.
Welcome to our home.
You can wait in there.
Did you buy new candles for the altar, baby?
I always do.
Good, now gimme a kiss.