Doesn't the moon look beautiful tonight?
- Why would you say that? - What?
Why would you say tonight? What do you mean by that?
I didn't mean anything by it, just look at the thing.
Nah, it's not for me.
Grand celestial artistry is not for you?
Makes me feel small, insignificant.
I was just saying something to say something.
If you don't want to look, it's your loss.
It reminds me of our station, you know... Universally.
That we're just some accidental regurgitation.
An endless recursionary process.
Sacks of bone and goop
hurling inconsequentially around an average-sized star
in one of a hundred billion galaxies.
Hopelessly alone, stranded, doomed and miserable.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Where is everyone?
Excuse me?
Sorry, but can I ask you where you're going?
- What? - Well, just you seem like
you're in a hurry. I just wanted to know where you were going.
- The observatory. - The observatory?
What's at the observatory?
Are you coming?
Sync and correction by ~LittleDuck~ www.addic7ed.com
S01E05 Moon
- Do you see him? - I don't know.
Back-left in the hat.
It's a live jazz club, Bondurant. Everyone's "in the hat".
The old one, wearing a pearl necklace and an eye patch.
You couldn't have led with that?
Do you see him or not?
I just see some old lady, but no...
- Oh, that's him! - What do you mean, that's him?
Shh.
Even the thought of his name...
Good evening, Mr. Smit.
Hello, LJ. You're looking well tonight.
I haven't looked well since Parker gouged me
with a syringe in Yul Brynner's house.
Charlie Parker did that to you?
- Parker Posey, dear. - Oh.
I've been hearing mixed things about you.
- Oh? - I understand you turned in
quite the sterile audition
- for those Juilliard rats. - Uh, yes.
- Sterile? - Mitzi, don't!
Couldn't've been that sterile since he was admitted.
Of course!
It must have been a lie I was told.
The moon, she's big tonight, uh?
- The biggest. - Let's hope so.
For both our sakes.
That's who you're so worried about impressing, that old lady?
I told you, he's not an old lady!
That's Roy Eldridge. That's Little Jazz.
- Roy Eldridge is dead. - Only his body!
That was his life-force, his verve, his spirit!
That old lady was his passion.
And passion, Mitzi, passion doesn't die, it moves
from shell to shell, scouring the Earth
in search of a worthy host.
And LJ, well,
LJ's been searching for a long, long time.
- As an old white lady? - Mmm.
He comes to you in the shape you find most relaxing,
so your performance will be raw and true.
- Grandma Smit, in my case. - Yeah, but...
Dammit, woman! This is my shot.
This is the most important performance of my life.
So, for once, can we make tonight about me?
Sure, Bondurant. For once.
Mmm. Oh.
The moon sings to me,
but never in the right key.
The moon watches me undress through the window.
I welcome it.
Coralie.
Ah, you've brought more truth seekers.
Leon, this is Dagmar and Petunia.
Those aren't our names.
They gave me a ride in the car they stole.
Auto theft, how resourceful.
- Actually she's the one who... - Prove it.
Well, we're happy to have you, whether you traveled
by plane, train or...
Series of interconnected subterranean tunnels.
The gopher people are here!
All of them except for Nathaniel.
He was eaten by a badger.
- Oh. - But, regardless,
it's going to be a very special evening.
Yes. Actually, I wanted to ask about all this specialness.
What exactly is everyone doing here?
Did you know the moon is in perigee tonight?
Perigee?
The closest point to Earth in its orbit.
- This is our best opportunity. - Opportunity to what?
To marvel in its majesty, William.
These people have gathered at the observatory to enjoy
one of the universe's greatest gifts.
Yeah. Then we're gonna terminate it.
- Hmm? - The moon ruined my marriage.
Tell me, Petunia, have you heard of the
made-up ancient Greek principle
in ignis veritas?
No, Leon, I have not.
Well, it's the belief that only through destruction
of something we love
can its true worth be known.
Sounds like horseshit to me.
Well, for some time it was just that.
Until a giant moon-terminating laser was built
in a joint effort between Florida State
and the University of Toronto Science Fiction department.
- That's not a real thing, so. - Oh, believe me,
- Florida State is very real. - This is insane.
What would ever possess a group of people to do
something so catastrophically irresponsible?
Art.
You're not gonna weigh in on this?
Does the observatory have a liquor license?
Unfortunately, it's dry until event horizon.
We don't want any accidental terminations.
But, in the meantime,
help yourself to snacks and hot cocoa.
- Where the hell are you going? - Be back in a sec.
I have to warn Bondurant.
Smit.
Wait. What? No.
Bondurant, where are you going?
You're gonna get yourself killed.
Well, if I don't try to stop this I might as well be dead!
I don't get it. What's the matter? It's just the moon.
I'm going to tell you something because I trust you.
I can trust you, right?
I have heavy fingers.
- What? - Heavy fingers!
My fingers strike the trumpet valves with too much weight!
How do you live with yourself?
I've struggled with the handicap all my life.
Tried everything to minimize the effects.
Meditation, finger weight lifting and aerobics...
The benefits of which have not been lost on your girlfriend.
- Even sock therapy. - You mean, shock therapy.
No. Sock therapy.
My psychologist has me put on sock puppet shows
to work on my mental issues.
- Uh-huh. - But nothing's effective!
Only when the moon is in its closest phase to Earth,
like tonight, does its gravitational pull
perfectly offset my shameful, shameful affliction.
Is it possible that maybe you could just...
Practice a bit more?
Mitzi, I wish it were that simple.
At least then I would have an excuse,
a reason to throw in the mouthpiece.
But the sad truth is,
I'm a prodigy.
- A prodigy? - I am the greatest
trumpet player ever to live, but only
when the circumstances are suitable.
- And how often is that? - Once a year.
- Once a year? - Yes. Every other day, I'm atrocious.
- Absolute musical garbage. - I've heard you play before,
you're pretty good.
To be merely good is to be obsolete.
- Do you at least have a plan? - I have it all worked out.
I'm going to break into the laser-keeping place
and smash it really hard with something.
Moon cookies?
Think Bondurant's gonna make it in time?
Hmm, I hope so.
Don't, don't do that.
- The hostility thing just... - There is no hostility.
- Sure. - No, I just...
I think it's really nice
- that you care about him. - Okay, great, good.
- Great. Good. - Yes, great, as in good,
as in sure, as in fine, as in bad, sarcastically.
Yeah, I got it.
- I said I got it. - I know what you said.
Then why are you staring at me
like I just blew out your birthday candles?
Because you're acting like a brat and I don't know why.
You know this is 10 months now.
- 10 months? - Yeah. This is 10 months.
10 months to the day? Is...
This is our 10 month anniversary? Is that what you're telling me?
Is that you're telling me right now?
10 month anniver... No, what?
There's no such thing as a 10 month anniversary.
- Kind of my point. - When did we start making points?
I have no idea, Jamie. But lately this,
this feels...
- Like... - What?
This feels combative.
Like I'm walking on eggshells. Like...
Like you're always looking for some little way to ruin my good time.
Thermonuclear war couldn't ruin your good time.
Forgive me for trying to actually get some enjoyment out of our relationship.
What relationship? I'm in a relationship.
You just have a girl that you get to screw on the weekends.
Oh, come on.
The moon certainly has no shortage of enemies.
What if someone catches you trying to destroy the laser?
I've replaced my molar with a cyanide capsule.
I simply bite down and release myself
from mortal constraints.
And you don't feel that's a bit over dramatic?
Should my mission fail, what purpose would I have
without the brass pressed to my lips
and the surge of mooniacle force through me?
I would have nothing left to live for.
Oh! Sure,
I'm still a world-class mechanical engineer,
and can paint the corners with mid-ninety heat,
but where's the value in that?
No, I'm serious. When was the last time you slept at my place
when you weren't drunk or high?
I can't remember the last time I slept at my place
when I wasn't drunk or high.
You know what, I get it.
You don't love me. That's okay.
You have to get there, you know, when you get there.
If you get there but, ever since I said it,
you've been acting like a real asshole.
- An asshole? - Yeah.
- You're the asshole. - What?
All you do is take little shots at me.
About my writing, my screwing. And you know what I do?
- You ignore it. - Ignore it.
Yeah, you fucking ignore it.
We're agreeing but it doesn't feel like...
I don't want to agree, William.
I want you to have a real, serious reaction for once.
I'm plenty capable of having a serious reaction.
- No. No. - I have lots of serious reactions.
No. You have lip. You have wisecracks.
Maybe even a little bit of sass.
But a reaction requires a life force
and lately, William, you've barely had a heartbeat.
You're trying to bait me into a fight
- and it's not gonna happen. - Of course it's not gonna happen.
That's exactly what I'm saying.
All you do these days is take shit
from me and your parents, and your friends.
- You think so, do you? - Yeah.
You think I just sit there and take it, huh?
Yeah.
Well, you're wrong. You're dead wrong.
Then, then go ahead.
Enlighten me.
You know what? Whatever.
Yeah, there it is. Classic William Wilson.
I like that you live in your own world, Bondurant,
but sometimes I feel like I'm stuck in your periphery.
Of course that's not true.
Whose boobs do you think I plan to flash tonight
to distract the laser guards?
I know. I guess I've just been feeling a little...
I don't know, maybe I should just go home.
But I need you.
You're my good luck charm.
You'll be fine, Bondurant,
you got into Juilliard without...
Bondurant, how did you get into Juilliard?
- What? - How did your audition just
happen to fall on the one day of the year
when you could play like a musical prodigy?
I mean, that's some pretty astounding good luck,
wouldn't you say?
Yeah, I mean, maybe to my ear you always sound great,
but if you really are absolute musical garbage
the rest of the time,
wouldn't the Juilliard people have noticed?
I guess, yeah, you could've gotten lucky,
one of a thousand auditions,
you could've just happened to squeak by, because it's either that or...
You lied to me.
I...
Wow.
Mitzi.
I'm not pregnant anymore.
Yeah.
I was.
But I'm not anymore.
I wanted to tell you...
So much, I wanted to tell you.
And it was hard.
Making that decision on my own was hard
and emotional and exhausting.
But I couldn't.
I couldn't do that to you, even if it meant keeping you,
I couldn't do that because I didn't wanna hold you back.
- Mitzi, I, I'm so... - It's okay. No. You don't...
You don't have to apologize.
Actually, you don't have to say anything because I'm fine.
I'm fine with what I did. Especially now,
now that we've got all the cards on the table
and now that I see you for what you really are...
Just another self-concerned, reality-distorted,
tell-the-truth-when-it's- convenient-son-of-a-bitch.
And I'm glad, baby. I'm fucking thrilled
I didn't hold you back
because, Bondurant, I never wanna hold you again.
You know what the most bizarre thing is about all this?
That there's still a sizable group of people
in this country interested in cosmology?
That the moon isn't actually a source of anything.
It doesn't radiate, it doesn't shine.
It's just a reflection.
Do you suggest we blow up the sun instead?
I think there's serious blame shifting going on tonight.
How's Bondurant making out?
Who knows?
Sorry, I knew you guys were out. I shouldn't have called.
- It doesn't matter. - Just with all this moon stuff
- I thought... - No, really.
It doesn't matter.
I'm actually okay with how things turned out tonight.
That makes one of us.
Jamie and I had a fight.
- And I almost gave us up. - Really?
Almost.
- Why didn't you? - I don't know.
I mean, she hasn't come clean about her and Bondurant,
why the hell should I?
You know...
It is possible that I made up the whole cheating thing
just to get you in the sack.
You conniving son of a bitch.
You know, Jamie said, "I love you."
She put herself out there.
I didn't ask her to do that.
Yeah, but until you say it back,
she just wants you to engage,
make sure you actually care enough to fight with her.
I got there a while ago, but, but thanks.
If we wait any longer, the sun will be up.
Well, there's nothing we can do.
The collateral load girder isn't kipping
at the proper torsion modulus.
Ah, dammit, Bill. I hate when you make so much sense.
But what if we pitch the header Gauge damping,
brittle the curvilinear motion to the calculus scalar?
Well! Mathematics, mathematics.
Nano technology. Horsepower.
That's right. It's hopeless.
There's no way we can terminate the moon tonight.
At this point it would take the mind
of the world's greatest mechanical engineer
to solve this problem.
Take me to her.
What do you want, William?
Remember when you told me that my writing
reminded you of apartheid,
- except worse? - Yeah?
Well, here's what I think of that.
Where are you going?
- What are you doing? - Mitzi.
Why are you still here?
I feel horrible about what I said to you.
No, I feel horrible.
I don't know why I lied about Juilliard.
Guess I was just embarrassed.
But nothing embarrasses you, Bondurant.
You once threw a pie at Maurice Richard
in front of his grand kids.
He wouldn't sign my hockey stick.
It was his funeral!
Look, I know I can get wrapped up in my own world
and I don't always show it, but I care about you, Mitzi.
I care about you more than anything else.
- You don't have to say that. - I know.
But I've broken your trust
and my words mean nothing anymore.
But please,
let me show you.
Show me what?
What the fuck are you doing?
- Are you insane? - No.
I'm having a reaction!
Bondurant, no.
What about your heavy fingers? Little Jazz?
With you around, Mitzi...
I have all the passion I need.
I feel nothing.
What have I done?
I can't believe it.
You blew up the moon for me.
No.
I terminated it for you.
What have I done?
Sync and correction by ~LittleDuck~ www.addic7ed.com