- Previously on Scream Queens... - What the hell?
Am I the baby that was born in Kappa that night?
There is something so weird about the Hag of Shady Lane.
We have to figure out who that woman was.
You work fast.
I paint them all.
We are murderers
hell-bent on revenge.
Tell me what happened to the baby.
Come to my office, alone.
♪ ♪
Well? "Well" what?
You scheduled this meeting; that means you talk first
and I do my best to try to pretend to listen.
You know why I'm here.
You told me if I helped you get out of that asylum,
you'd tell me what happened to the baby in the bathtub.
Did I?
Really?
Wow.
I have no memory of that.
Uh, I mean, look, I was probably high on Klonopin
at the time, so you can't really hold me
to anything I might have said.
Besides, it's not really important anymore,
because Feather is the Red Devil Killer.
This never did
have anything to do with what may or may not
have happened at Kappa 20 years ago.
Look, I'm sorry
that your little theory didn't pan out.
But come on, cheer up.
This is what college is all about...
Trying out new things and ideas,
learning how not to be afraid to be wrong.
There is one thing I know I'm not wrong about.
That you are going to ignore
what's really going on at this school
until it personally sneaks up behind you
and stabs you in the heart.
♪ ♪
I saw that movie
50 times!
Hello, and welcome to the new 911 automated system.
Please listen carefully, as our menu options have changed.
Also note that 911 is for emergencies only.
If you need a ride to the store
or McDonald's got your order wrong, please hang up.
For robbery in progress, please press...
Two on one?
Doesn't seem fair, does it?
Wait a minute, are...
are you supposed to be
Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia?
When I was a junior, I spent a year abroad.
I had an affair with a beautiful Eurasian man named Chon Wi Ha.
He was a grand champion in the illegal Hong Kong fighting pits.
Blood sport, they called it.
I taught him everything I knew about making love.
And in return,
he taught me how to fight.
The homosexual lifestyle is not destructive
to the fabric of American society!
The Voting Rights Act
should be authorized in every state!
And the Affordable Care Act
does not require people to eat broccoli!
Come on, boys.
Sync & corrections by wilson0804 www.Addic7ed.com
I hope you fat heifers did your homework.
Zayday is the killer,
and that walking jawline, Grace what's-her-nuts,
is in on it.
All this started when they walked into this house.
I need them convicted, fried in the electric chair,
and I want it now.
I need to know what you found out. Go.
Okay, Chanel, I have some grade-A Intel.
I was rooting through
Zayday's drawers,
and look what I found.
Zayday is on the pill. That's not a clue.
But guess who else is on the pill? Grace.
And if you look closely here,
you can see that their cycles are synched.
And you know what else is synched?
Their thirst for murder.
I mean, you know what they say.
Those who pill together kill together.
No one, in all of human history, has ever said that.
Okay,
I know for a fact that Zayday is the murderer
and she's planning on killing again.
If you rearrange the letters
in Zayday Williams' name, you get...
"I may slay Liz Daw!"
What? Who is Liz Daw?!
I don't know.
But clearly,
Zayday is contemplating slaying her.
If she's the next victim, we need to find her and help her.
All of these clues are terrible.
I guess it's like Daddy always says:
"If you want something done right,
pay someone a lot of money to do it for you."
Now...
why don't you all
strap on some oat bags and go poop
huge green turds in the street, like the sad old mares you are.
What are you doing?
Haven't you heard? I moved in.
I live with
you dumb hos now.
So what exactly are you saying?
I'm saying Denise Hemphill ain't gonna spend
another night sleeping in
the Secure Enforcement Solutions Patrol Car,
giving herself a whore's bath
every morning with a handful of Wet-Naps
when there's a perfectly good bedroom upstairs
that nobody is using just 'cause some dumb ho got murdered in it.
Hey, girl.
So, I'll sleep in the dead girl's room
and do my best
to not dwell on the fact
that there's a big old bloodstain on the floor.
Oh. And they got one of those NutriBullets downstairs.
I've always wanted to try this recipe
for a smoothie called a Hormone Helper.
Mm. It's fine.
You can stay in the house.
No, I mean, what are you doing right now?
I am frying up some mozzarella sticks.
You know a woman's face got fried off in that, right?
Wait, hold on. Nobody changed the oil?
I doubt it. We don't really "eat" around here.
I question why this house even has a kitchen.
Listen, I want to ask you a question.
If you had all the money in the world, what would you do?
I'd buy Sandals.
What? I said all the money in the world.
Do you not own a pair of sandals?
Not sandals. Sandals.
That party island that's in all the TV commercials.
I'd buy that,
and then work there as a security guard.
Wait. You'd buy an island and then work on it?
Settle down. Just part-time, okay?
The rest of the time, I'd lay around on that beach,
drinking and looking sexy. Mm!
Ooh, and then I'd order the staff around.
I'd be like, "Hey.
"Go on the other side of that island
and get me a pineapple." And they'd be like,
"Right away, Ms. Hemphill, right away."
Then I'd be like, "Mm, don't worry about it.
"This pineapple right here is just fine.
I just wanted to see if you would do it, Winston."
Listen...
what would you say if I offered you
a ridiculous amount of money if you could prove 100%
that Zayday is the Red Devil?
Well, what you mean by "ridiculous"?
'Cause I can get pretty ridiculous.
Close your eyes and picture the largest number you can imagine.
$1 million.
That's seriously the largest number you can imagine?
$3 million!
Okay, fine.
Listen... open your eyes.
What would you say if I told you
I'd give you $3 million
if you could prove Zayday is the killer?
I would say, "Denise Hemphill
"from Secure Enforcement Solutions
is on the case!"
My mother used to say that smugness gives you wrinkles.
Oh. Was I being smug?
Sorry, I thought I was just being right.
Let me lay out a hypothetical for you.
In this state, there's no statute of limitations
for homicide.
Now, hypothetically, if I was at Kappa that night,
and I did, hypothetically,
cover up this hypothetical negligent homicide,
I would hypothetically not be responsible
for that girl's death.
But I would hypothetically undoubtedly
be an accessory after the fact.
So when these murders started up,
even if I hypothetically thought they were related
to the events of 20 years ago, I couldn't, hypothetically,
start offering up information to the...
hypothetical police, or anyone else, for that matter,
because I risk, hypothetically, implicating myself.
Hypothetically, of course.
So instead, you'd let him just keep killing people,
your students,
just to protect yourself.
I just figured...
that eventually someone would shoot the bastard.
Now it's different, because they came after you.
Hell yeah, it is!
This school could survive a few serial killings,
but I really don't think that this university
could handle losing me.
Neither can I, frankly.
This is the name
of the girl who died in the tub.
But that's not enough.
I need to know everything.
What happened to the baby?
Where are all the other girls who were there?
I don't know.
Cover-ups like this only work
if everyone has tiny bits of info.
One of the girls took the baby.
I don't know where she went, what happened after that.
This name is all I have.
The rest, as they say, Sherlock, is up to you.
What? Is there a problem?
Um, no. It's just...
are you sure that that's her name?
Because my mom's name was Mulligan.
Th's what my dad told me.
Do you know what I find the most appalling thing about you?
You act like you are this benevolent champion of justice,
when really,
at the end of the day, this is just about you
finding out who your mommy is.
I want to stop these murders!
But I also have a right to find out
if I'm the reason they're happening.
Do you know why I went into therapy?
Because the less we know about ourselves, the better.
Rummaging around in your life...
It's like digging through a landfill.
Sure, you may happen upon something interesting,
but you're gonna get filthy.
No, no, no, no, no!
Crap. I'm gonna kill that dumb bitch.
Whoa. What dumb bitch you gonna kill?
The girl at Candle Junction
who evidently doesn't understand the concept of a "22 for
the price of 20 sale."
So I'm like, "Well, now my year is ruined."
Fascinating.
Listen, let me ask you a couple of questions
about Zayday Williams.
Zayday? She's really nice.
There's no way she's the killer.
Damn. Why you say that?
Total lack of evidence. She displays none of
the characteristics of a serial killer.
She's kind, she's responsible,
she has a great set of social skills
and a healthy network of friends.
I have no reason to believe she's the killer.
I got three million reasons to believe she is the killer.
Well, except there was that one time.
She could tell
that I wasn't fitting in
with the girls at Kappa House, so she told me this story.
I definitely know what it feels like
to not be one of the cool kids.
There was this group of girls at my school.
They called themselves The Peacocks.
They were rich and wore all the nicest clothes.
And then one day, one of them told me, the following day,
I should dress up in my fanciest outfit
and sit with them at lunch.
So what happened?
They spent the whole time
making fun of my outfit,
talking about how cheap my clothes were.
And you know how desperate I was?
I sat there and laughed right along with them.
But it was that day I decided I was gonna figure out a way
to get revenge on entitled little rich girls everywhere.
And not just a little revenge.
Real revenge.
She said that? She said, "Real revenge"?
Uh-huh.
You know, I didn't think anything of it at the time,
but now looking back on it,
I guess she could be a serial...
Could be what?
A serial killer?
Hey, there.
You know, maybe next time,
you should check the bathroom before you decide
to tell personal stories about your suite-mate,
because I heard every single thing you said.
Yeah, Jennifer!
As for you, Ms. Hemphill,
I'm getting real tired of your nonsense.
You make me wish I was a serial killer
just so I could knock off your black ass next.
If you want to accuse me of something,
walk your ass down to the police station
and get yourself a warrant.
Until then,
you better stay away from me, you hear me?
That goes for both of you.
Anyway, so I went back
to the Candle Junction at the Three Hills Mall,
and the girl was like, "Sorry.
"We did have Mrs. Claus's Cinnamon Browneye in the back.
"It was just hidden behind a whole bunch of stuff
because it's seasonal."
Seasonal?
Anyways, the first thing you're gonna notice about this candle,
like the Rita Moreno Daiquiri Hangover,
is that it has a sturdy wick.
Guys, I'm recording.
Sorry.
So, as far as fragrance goes,
I get a lot of pine alongside the peppermint,
which is so sophisticated
and part of what makes this holiday series so special.
See? You can already tell from the quality of the wax
that this candle is gonna have a nice even burn.
And believe me,
that's exactly what you're gonna want as the holidays
roll around.
So, what's the verdict on this one, you guys?
Um, shocker!
I give it... five stars.
All right, ladies, I want to update you on my investigation
into proving that Zayday Williams is the killer.
I... got...
nothing.
Excuse me?
Except for the fact that she gave me
and that weird candle girl some real bad stink-eye,
then told us to leave her alone.
But that's all I got.
My investigation has been lacking
in the financial resources department.
Right now, this whole thing has been funded out of my pocket.
So I was wondering if I could get a little advance.
Let's say ten percent of that three million?
Fine.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have a date with my boyfriend Chad Radwell.
Tonight's our Night of a Thousand Compliments Night.
What does that mean? We sit across from one another,
fully clothed, and he compliments me a thousand times.
You got a hot mouth.
Thank you.
That mouth would look even better if it was kissing
all over my rippling pecs and my rock-hard abs.
Okay, Chad, that's you complimenting yourself.
That outfit... Amazing.
Thank you.
That outfit... it would look even better
just rolled up in a little ball
in the corner of my bedroom.
Okay, Chad, that's not a compliment.
That outfit looks super absorbent enough
to wipe down this hot bod after an hour-long bone sesh.
These aren't compliments, Chad!
I'm trying! Okay?!
Compliment Night is... sort of a work in progress.
Right, right. Hold on.
That $300,000... how exactly am I gonna get that?
I don't know. Call Bachmann, Selz & Selz.
They're my family's money managers.
Ask for Elaine. She's my point person.
Right, but is there any way they can give it to me in cash?
What is that smell? Does anyone else smell something burning?
Yeah. What is that?
Oh, my God!
There has to be something.
If I had a Social Security number, then maybe.
But otherwise, this girl's a total phantom.
No. This cannot be another dead end!
We have her name.
There has to be a photo of her online
or a relative we can find or something.
That's my mom.
I-I know it. I can just feel it.
Ever since this all started, I've known that I was that baby.
When I was little...
I would talk to her.
And I could just feel her there with me.
A benevolent spirit.
But there was also a sadness there,
a longing, some unfinished business
that was keeping her from moving on.
That's why I came this school and joined Kappa.
Because I had this feeling that I could finish it for her.
This is that business.
We need to find my mom and end all of this.
Dear strange, odd, candle-loving Jennifer
needs to be the final victim.
The madness needs to end.
Okay, okay, so maybe the name isn't step one.
Maybe we need another step or two before it becomes helpful.
What do you mean? The Hag of Shady Lane.
We figured that she must have been
the girl who took the baby that night
and tried to take care of it.
But after a couple of years, she disappeared, right?
Yeah, she probably ran away or something.
She was a hag.
She dug through Dumpsters for food
and robbed milk trucks for a living.
How far could a woman like that get?
Okay, but then what happened?
What happens to all crazy people?
They get arrested or... locked up
in an insane asylum.
Hey. Hi. Uh, do you remember us?
Do you remember a girl who came in here about 20 years ago?
The Hag of Shady Lane?
She would have wailed a lot, maybe had a baby with her.
Yeah.
Gigi?
Oh, my God. Gig's the Hag of Shady Lane?
Wait. I-I...
Wait.
Two babies?
Boy and a girl.
Good evening.
It is with a very heavy heart
that after the continued deaths on this campus
and the mounting evidence that they are,
in fact, the work of a serial killer,
I regret to announce the suspension of all operations
here at Wallace University, effective immediately.
This evening,
at 8:00 p.m., out on the main quad,
under a peaceful oak tree,
there will be a moment of silence for Jennifer...
Or as she was more popularly known,
"That very unusual girl with the really odd candle fetish."
♪ Do you understand?
♪ Do you feel the same? ♪
♪ Am I only dreaming ♪
Wicks up!
♪ Or is this burning ♪
♪ Burning ♪
♪ An eternal flame? ♪
♪ Say my name ♪
♪ Sun shines through the rain... ♪
Congratulations,
Red Devil Killer.
You have won.
I will have no further comment at this time.
This is an outrage!
My whole life is ruined!
Kappa House is officially done,
which means we can't throw any more awesome parties
where people almost die or actually die,
which means I can't be popular, and Chad is going to leave me!
You have to fix this.
You have to prove that Zayday
and that pencil-necked Grace are the killers, and do it fast.
You do realize we're detectives from Scotland Yard?
Um, yeah. Duh!
Therefore, we have no jurisdiction
in the United States.
Ms. Oberlin, you have to understand,
the only reason we're here
is because we were told you had information
regarding a death threat against the Duchess of Cambridge.
First of all, I'm an American.
I don't have to understand anything.
And furthermore, I do have information
regarding a death threat against the Duchess of Cambridge.
If you don't prove that Zayday and Grace are the killers,
I'm gonna kill the Duchess myself.
See, I'm not sure if you're aware, but...
I'm rich. Stupid rich.
And I'm prepared to pay handsomely to get what I want.
And what I want is to see Zayday
and that talking bowling ball on a stick Grace
rotting in prison for the rest of their lives.
I don't care
what you toothless inbreds have to do
to make that happen,
just make it happen!
Now, do we have a deal?
Gracie!
Perfect timing.
I was just about to cook us up my mother's famous
falafel enchiladas.
It's an old family recipe which fits perfectly
with the sort of vague,
enigmatic quality of my skin tone.
I want the truth about everything,
and then we're going to my dad together
and you're gonna confess it all... to him, too.
- Is this real? - Yes.
Because that is you.
It's so weird. It does kind of look like me.
What's with the two babies though?
Wait. Are you trying to hint
that you want your dad and me to have babies?
Because that is... so sweet.
It was drawn 20 years ago by a woman
in the Palmer Asylum for the Insane.
She remembers you being there with two babies.
Honey, have you been smoking ayahuasca?
Because pass the dutchie
on the left-hand side, sister.
I want some of whatever it is you're smoking.
I know that the picture isn't proof of anything,
which is why I went looking for more.
I called the Kappa National Chapter,
and they e-mailed me
your resume and application for the job as president.
Honestly, they must not have read it at all,
because it is full of complete fabrications.
Everyone exaggerates on their resume, Grace.
Ooh, funny that you didn't list the one true thing
we found out about you. What's that?
According to the enrollment files at the time,
you were a student right here at Wallace University.
But you dropped out after your sophomore year for
"medical reasons."
But coupled with this picture,
adds up to went nuts because she was somehow involved
with the death of a fellow student.
So you're accusing me of being a murderer,
or an accessory to murder,
because I lied on my resume, and 20 years ago,
a crazy person painted a picture
of a girl who sort of looks like me.
Pretty flimsy.
Well, it will at least be enough
to keep you away from my dad.
Oh.
Well, finally the truth.
Look, hon...
you never had a mom, you know?
Someone who can talk to you gal to gal,
show you what's what.
If you did, she would explain to you
that all the pressures you've been under the last few weeks,
plus the fact that your dad's finally dating,
has left you feeling a little... unmoored.
It's all happening way too fast.
And you have been just looking to hold on
to the one thing in your life that makes you feel safe
and like a child again: your dad.
And now you're trying to get rid of both stresses
with one slice of the knife,
so to speak,
because if I'm the killer,
then the murders stop and you get your dad back.
I don't think that's gonna be my dad's take on all this.
Oh, I think my fiancé trusts me.
Fiancé?
Mm-hmm. Oh, I didn't show you?
Beautiful, no?
You'd better stay away from my dad.
Or what?
You gonna kill me?
Well, Ms. Oberlin, Detective Baxter and I
have concluded our investigation and we've turned up
some very interesting facts indeed.
Someone has, in fact, contemplated killing you,
if not attempted it outright.
Who?
Your very housemate, Libby Putney.
You know her as Chanel #5.
Chanel #5's real name is Libby Putney?
Number Five is a frequent visitor
to what we call the Deep Web,
where she hosts several active chat rooms
with such names as:
"Does Anyone Want to Help Me Poison Chanel Oberlin?"
Hey, stupid foreign idiots,
I didn't ask you to dig up dirt on Chanel #5.
Yes, but she's clearly intent on killing you.
I don't care! What I asked you to do
is prove that Grace and Zayday are the killers!
With regard to Ms. Williams, there's no evidence whatsoever
that she's been involved in the campus murder,
or, indeed, in any illegal activity at all.
Will you please stop peppering your speech with "indeed"?
The same can be said for Grace Gardner.
There's no history of suspicious or criminal activity.
The same cannot be said, however, for her mother.
Wait, what?
Yes. As it turns out, her mother has
quite the criminal record.
I knew it.
Looks like the bitch apple
doesn't fall far from the bitch tree.
Thank you, gentlemen.
Grace is the killer.
And this file proves it.
No, no, she just got here.
I love you, too.
What did she tell you?
That she's... worried about you.
I'm worried about you.
How could you get engaged?
Why wouldn't you talk to me about it first?
Hey, no, I-I would never do that to you.
Look, I'm still a little confused
about what happened, to tell you the truth.
We were hanging out here, just...
watching The Price Is Right, and she was like...
Hey, would it be too much for you
if I ran to the mall and picked up
a couple things for this place?
Nothing big.
I just, I don't know,
I feel like it could use a woman's touch.
Mm-hmm. Um, sure, yeah.
Sounds nice.
I don't... I don't want you to think
I'm, like, moving too fast
or trying to cramp your bachelor lifestyle.
What? I'm not.
No. Of course not.
Who am I, Hugh Hefner?
You're not Hugh Hefner.
I know. Please, I would love for you to do that.
Cramp away.
And then she came home with an engagement ring.
What? And those lamps,
which I actually kind of like.
They are actually really nice. Right?
I mean, I always felt like something was missing
over there, but now it just, it feels, like, super homey here.
Dad, you can't marry Gigi.
Honey, who said anything about marriage?
She was so excited about the engagement.
I didn't want to bum her out,
so I figured if I played along with it...
you know, it would lead to some mind-blowing sex,
which I was totally right about. Dad, Dad!
Dad! Oh, my God, please, stop.
Just believe me when I tell you that Gigi is crazy.
No, she's quirky.
Look, I promise you
that I will not get really serious with her
without talking to you about it first.
You're still my number one girl, Gracie.
How am I supposed to believe that?
I know it must be hard for you to see me with someone else,
but it's been 16 years.
Don't I deserve a little happiness, too?
Wait.
Gigi must have known Mom...
which means you must have known Gigi.
Which means...
What?
What, you think I have something to do with these murders now?
Hey, please, Gracie, you're making yourself crazy.
Look, just stay away from me, Dad.
Come on.
No, Dad, stay away!
Hello, Grace.
Why don't you have a seat?
We need to discuss the manner in which
you intend to turn yourself in to the authorities.
I think it can be done in way that will save
this house and this university a lot of embarrassment.
What the hell are you talking about?
You look all sweet and cuddly,
but I know for a fact you're the killer.
Deep down,
you're a ruthless criminal, just like your mother.
Here are the facts.
Your mother was elected Kappa House president in 1995
on a campaign platform that largely consisted of a pledge
to make "Waterfalls" by TLC the official Kappa House song.
♪ But I think you're moving too fast... ♪
"Waterfalls" is my jam!
Kappa!
She really had a whale of a time that night,
because she ended up hooking up with one of the douche bags
at the party,
a douche bag by the name of Wes Gardner.
What?
♪ I know that you're gonna have it your way ♪
♪ Or nothing at all ♪
♪ But I think you're moving too fast... ♪
I'm not sure if she got knocked up that night
or a couple days after,
but almost exactly nine months later, she had you.
No. No, no, that's-that's not possible.
You always suspected you were the baby
in the bathtub, didn't you?
But it didn't quite add up, did it?
This, however, does: your mother changed her name
from Bethany Stevens to Mary Mulligan in a feeble attempt
to put the sins of her youth behind her.
But I guess popping you out drove her off the deep end,
because that's when her criminal record
gets really interesting.
She was arrested for shoplifting, petty larceny,
grand larceny, drunk driving with a baby in her lap,
drunk driving with a baby on top of her car
and possession of methamphetamine
with intent to distribute.
Obviously appalled, your douche bag father
sued for custody and won.
Your saint of a mother died a year later.
She was driving drunk, obviously,
and decided to wrap her car around a tree.
That's a lie. My dad said that she died in a fire.
Fiery car crash.
He probably wanted to spare you the pain
of finding out who your skank mom really was.
See, do you want to know my theory?
You thought you were the baby in the bathtub,
so you decided to come back to Kappa Kappa Tau
and kill everybody.
Well, guess what, Grace?
You're not the baby.
So you can stop murdering everybody
and accept the fact that your dumb dead mother
was nothing more than a drunk, degenerate slut.
Then we will pick up all the trash off the freeway.
There's a couple of blind dogs down at the pound
we're gonna read the newspaper to.
Um, excuse me? No, we're not.
You can bet your creamy white ass we are.
Things gonna change around Kappa House
now that Denise Hemphill is in charge.
Since when are you in charge?
Since I weaseled my way into living in this house.
Um, is that my dress?
Why are you wearing my clothes?!
The bigger question is: why are you the same size
as a 40-year-old woman?
And you know what?
I don't know what brand of G-string
it is you use, but-but-but I feel like
angels are flossing my butt crack.
So, thank you.
This is insane!
You have no right to root through our possessions
and steal our things.
Shut up and sit down.
I'm am housemother, and as housemother,
I can do whatever I want.
Housemother?
What are you talking about?!
Chanel, it's a coup.
What's going on here?
Wh... What in God's name are you wearing?
Chanel, she's wearing my clothes!
She's wearing my underwear!
Oh, shut up, Number Five.
Your underwear's probably relieved
to be touching actual human genitals.
I don't know what you're attempting here,
but I call the shots.
I'm house president.
Co-president.
Chanel,
Mama Denise is in charge now.
We're gonna step into
the nearest bathroom and have a nice little heart-to-heart,
just me and you.
Nearest bathroom? What? What is going on?!
Let me drop a little advice on your rich, blonde ass.
I heard about the mean things you said
to Grace about her mama.
What I said to Grace about her mother were facts.
That don't matter.
You can't go around insulting somebody's mama.
Even if she was the worst bitch in the world,
you can't go around saying it to everybody.
But her mother was the worst bitch in the world.
So what?
Everybody had a terrible mama.
Hell, my mama was terrible, mean as dirt.
But if somebody else said
my mama was a ho,
I would knock they damn block off.
What am I supposed to do, apologize?
That's exactly what I want you to do.
Over my rich, hot, dead body.
Fine, then I'll just place a booty call
to Chad Radwell and make him my full-time man.
What?
That's right.
In the past, as you know, Chad has enjoyed
our sexy role-play story-time sessions.
And I wouldn't mind making them a little more frequent.
That's right, Chanel.
You will say you are sorry to Grace
and start changing the way you're treating the ladies
at Kappa House,
or Mama Denise will take your man.
Fine.
♪ ♪
Yes, that's your mom, right there in the middle.
What about all that horrible stuff
Chanel told me about her?
About how big of a bitch she was?
About you literally having to sue to get me away from her?
Well, all of that is mostly true.
I was gonna tell you
the truth eventually, but you just
got so attached to the fake story.
I figured, why upset the apple cart?
So our house never burned down? No, that was true.
I burned it down to cover up any evidence you might find.
Grace, don't you see now?
How important you are to me?
I committed arson. For you.
To protect you.
And don't you see now, huh,
why I didn't want you to join that sorority?
You are the best of both
me and your mom.
And that place was the worst of her.
The best of her?
It sounds like there was nothing good in her at all.
Grace, we-we were so young.
We were only a couple years older than you.
All I ever wanted was for you to have
your own wonderful life.
I worked my ass off for that, and I'm sorry
if that included me lying to you, but I am your father.
Okay?
And I got to decide what I thought was best for you.
Mom was there that night.
At the party.
So were you. And you knew that all along,
and people were getting killed and you never told me.
I was trying to protect you!
I've always done nothing but try to protect you.
But now you see that you can't.
You can't protect me from who I really am.
I am my mother's daughter, Dad.
What does that mean? It means I would stay
far away from me if you want to protect yourself.
Babe, are you okay?
I just saw Grace running out.
Yeah. She's upset.
Weston.
Can we talk honestly?
That girl has been
slowly falling apart ever since she got here.
I know college kids have a lot of pressure,
but I really think Gracie
has this superwoman complex, you know?
And her inability to keep her friends from being picked off
one by one like little Indians
is throwing her dangerously off course.
She just needs to calm down.
Have you seen her grades?
Mm-mm.
I asked Munsch to pull her file.
She's got a 1.4 GPA.
Oh, wow.
She's failing out of school, Weston,
and if you don't start taking some real action...
And I mean real action...
Like maybe even...
committing her or something,
then you are really failing her as a father.
Is that how little you trust me?
Actually, no.
That's how little I trust you.
Why are we here?
Are you wearing a wire to try to get me to admit I'm the killer?
I'm not.
Actually, Daughter of Sam...
I came here to apologize.
Ambushing you with that stuff about your mom was mean.
Even by my standards.
You see,
I have an awful mother, too.
Even worse than yours.
Happy Oberlin is a monster.
I'm the youngest of three children.
My oldest brother, Harvard Oberlin,
was born with cradle cap.
She disowned him the moment she saw him.
My sister Muffet became
the family's great shame when she joined the Peace Corps.
Yuck.
And then I burst onto the scene.
I was Mommy's perfect little angel.
Mommy said I was a prodigy at firing nannies
and top of my class at destroying
people's self-confidence, although they don't
out grades for that for some dumb reason.
The worst was when she didn't let me go
to my high school graduation because I had a bad zit.
Not fair.
She said my deformity would embarrass the family.
She really does sound awful.
But don't you see? We all have mommy issues.
A healthy attachment to their mother,
they never feel safe in t world.
That's why I joined a sorority...
To create a space that could fill the void
my mother carved out of me.
I mean, Kappa's like the mom we never had.
No, Chanel. Kappa is like the mom you did have.
You're not healing anything with the way you run Kappa.
You're just continuing the same pattern.
How are you any different than your mom?
I'm a work in progress, okay?
Maybe I have to get all this bitch out of me
before I can be the Al me.
I mean, maybe the reason we came in each other's lives
is to help us deal with our mom stuff.
You by pretending to be nice and innocent so I can see
what of a bitch I am, and me by telling you about
your real mom and how heroically awful she was.
I think you can admit that you're better off
now that I told you.
But your intention wasn't to make my life better.
It was to destroy me.
Look, I mean it.
I'm sorry, okay?
Thanks.
Sorry.
What?!
Mind if I work in?
Yeah, sure.
You need a spot?
If you don't mind.
Light weight.
I think that's Joaquin Phoenix.
Strong, handsome.
Hello?
Look, I can't live like this, okay?
All I do is work out and kill people.
Where do you think I am? I'm in the gym.
Yeah, I'm wearing a disguise.
What do you think, I'm an idiot?
Look, I'm totally incognito,
I'm blending right in.
Look, Gigi's the problem, okay?
She's the one that got us into this,
and now she's blowing our brand.
I mean, who shows up in a Justice Scalia costume?
Yeah. She said she got it at the discount bin
at the Halloween store.
Hey, bro. You think I could get your autograph?
Sure.
Listen, Gigi's got to go. Okay?
She's the weak link.
- We got to get rid of her now. - Thanks, bro.
Hey, I loved you in Gladiator, man. Yeah.
We take her out, and then we finish what we set out to do.
Sync & corrections by wilson0804 www.Addic7ed.com