All language subtitles for Black.Monday.3x09

Previously on Black Monday...

Okay, I admit it! We left him for dead!

To Ms. Nomi Maldana,

our latest signing to KokoMo Co Records.

And your fianc�.

- We're getting hitched, y'all!
- Yeah.

Maybe Nomi and I are in
different stages of our life.

Better to know the day before
than the day after.

I wanna give you total
control of your own label.

Sign anybody you want.
Starting with Nomi, of course.

I don't wanna lead you on,
unless maybe it's onto a bed.

Play your cards right
and you can nab the VP slot

for the next presidential campaign.

Did we?

Cartwheel 69?

You wish.

Damn. Jammer's cabin is pretty sweet.

I was at Home Alone, the movie.

I was at a test screening
for the movie Home Alone.

The fuck are you doing, Larry?

Why are you sitting in the elevator

when you should be at your office?

If he didn't make it back to his office,

he didn't sign the papers.

There is a Tiff Drag Night tonight.

What the fuck is that?

It looks like a bag of uncased sausage.

Holy shit, that's a dead body.

No, it's... it's alive.

Hey-o!

Bring in those bodies
'cause it's time to partys.

I said the S on the end
to keep the plural thing going.

Okay. Who is ready to have
some good, clean fun?

And by good, clean fun, I mean
some of the purest cocaine

your schnozzes have ever shnorted.

Ooh, what's that drinking game
we used to play?

- Quarters?
- Quarters.

Where we'd see how much we could drink

after we smoked a quarter ounce of weed?

Let's do that. Heads up!

Oh.

I thought you were gonna catch that.

I'm sorry, I just...
I don't think either of us

is really in the mood, Mo.

What the fuck? Come on, guys.
Are you kidding me?

This is my bachelor party.
And tomorrow's the wedding.

And New Year's Eve.
That's like a fun-fecta.

Yeah, and also Tiff is dead.

Yeah, right.

I'm... I'm sorry, Blair.

But listen, don't you think

Tiff would want us
to have some fun, though?

This year has been very sobering.

And I don't mean sobering sobering.

And now I'm about to get
everything I've ever wanted.

Well, that seems like a good reason

to celebrate, huh, big guy?

I was just pausing for dramatic effect.

The end of that sentence is:
but what does it matter?

Because my wife and the love of my life,

- two different people...
- Of course.

- Are dead.
- Yeah.

And Larry's dead, which I
wouldn't feel either way about

except it fucked my whole plan for LA.

No, no, no, you guys aren't
gonna suck me into this.

You need to compartmentalize
that shit, okay?

It's fun time! We're gonna have fun!

Guys, you don't see me moping around

just because I lost my label,

which was the most
professionally fulfilled

I've ever been in my entire life.

That's true.

And arguably took
my entire life to build.

Oh, God damn it.

Merry triple Xmas.

Let's get Mo some

hos, hos, ho...

Wow.

I was gonna say who died,

but that would be in poor taste.

So instead I just...

- Said it anyway?
- Mm.

And whose Rolls-Royce is that?

Oh. That Rolls is mine.

Y'all remember how we found
Lenny all chopped up to pieces

before he could sign the papers
to give Mo his label back?

You mean the most traumatic
thing we've all experienced.

Yeah, you mean when I had a
fucking dead dick in my hand?

Exposition, exposition.

Well, that was also before
he could sign the papers

that would reverse the last
birthday gift he gave me,

namely his name.

He had his parents
posthumously adopt me.

So you got parents now. Congrats.

- I really don't care, Keith.
- You're always into some freaky shit.

So I am the only living
Leighman brother left,

which means I inherited
The Whole Enchilada,

which is their Mexican fast-food chain,

and also

the Leighman Brothers entire operation.

- Oh, my God.
- Holy shit.

And my first act as
acting president and CEO is...

To give me my label back.

And give me my freedom
so I can start a label in LA?

Yes and yes.

Along with giving myself

whatever the fuck I want.
And my kids too.

I actually rented out FAO Schwarz

for an entire weekend.

I didn't even know you could do that.

- And Shira? She forgave me.
- Who cares?

Well, I wouldn't start
ski poling each other just yet.

Ski poling?

It's like when you're sitting
in between two guys

and you take their dicks
and then you just go.

Oh.

Was that on the table?

Need I remind you that none
of this is going to matter

because someone is trying to kill us?

Well, not to be a dick,

but, uh...

I think they're primarily
trying to kill you.

No. Wayne's limo could
have been for all of us.

And what about Larry?
I mean, you got to admit,

it seems like somebody
is trying to kill anyone

who is close to the Jammer Group.

- Or anyone who's close to you.
- Of course.

You ruined my life.

Why would you care if someone took it?

Thanks for understanding, Blair.

Okay, who is up for that drinking game?

- Ooh, better yet.
- Uh...

Anybody interested in a sniffing game?

- Let's do it.
- Sniffing game!

Okay, listen.

To be honest, it's not just Mo
who ruined your life.

We all are responsible for
you being in this situation.

And I, for one, am sorry.

I wanna help get you out of it.

Thank you, Dawn.

Okay, fine.

I mean, I guess we all do owe you

or whatever the fuck, all right?

You know, even though
it's my bachelor party,

let's put all of our heads together

and try to catch whoever the fuck it is

who's trying to take Blair out.

In the form of a drinking game.

- Ha-ha!
- Yes!

- Okay.
- Oh, we're gonna get fucked up.

If it's about me, I'll play.

It was a vicious attack.

He'll still require extensive surgery

to repair his vocal chords,

what's left of his penis, scrotum, anus.

But...

It's a Christmas miracle
he's still alive.

That was no miracle.
You saved this man's life.

A 44-hour operation,

anyone else would have
given up, but you?

I took an oath, Gene.
I never give up on a patient.

Okay, the secret to a perfect sting

is paying attention to...

Wait. Who are we even stinging?

We don't know who the killer is.

Yeah, all we know is that he...

- Or she.
- Really?

I'm just saying,
we won't know we're equal

until people are as terrified
of women as men.

First of all, questioning
the master of ceremonies

- is a drink.
- Oh!

Okay. What are the rules?

Uh-oh.

Ask me a question, Blair.
Naughty, naughty. Drink.

Yeah, yeah.

So what? Just everything is a drink?

Keith is catching on.

You know what that means? Drink.

Drink.

Guys, you're overthinking it.
All we need to do

is get all of us together in one place,

and we wait for the killer
to make his or her move

and then... catch him in the act.

- Of killing one of us?
- Yeah.

I mean, preferably before that.

Okay, so it's a trap and we're the bait.

I like to refer to it
as a non-sexual honeypot.

Everything's a fucking honeypot.

- Okay, but where do we do it?
- Mo's wedding tomorrow.

- It's perfect.
- Hang on a second.

Oh, my gosh, yeah,
we'll all be together.

Yeah, you're right, great idea.

- No, no, wait...
- Oh, my God, yes.

And the killer will know
exactly where it is

since you blasted your business
all over The New York Times

like a couple of yuppie shitheads.

I happen to think
the picture of Nomi and I

- riding sidesaddle is cute.
- Ugh.

And I can get the FBI to stake it out

because I'm gonna be
the next vice president.

Guys, I-I don't know

if I'm into turning my wedding
into a fucking...

Oh, Mo, this was such a good idea.

I feel better already.

- It wasn't my idea to do...
- Top-notch work.

Okay, fine. Fuck it.
We'll do it at the wedding.

As long as we call it
a non-sexual honeypot.

Fine. Do you think that
you will be able to get Nomi

on board with a non-sexual honeypot?

Get Nomi on board? This one.

What are you talking about?

Look, I know who wears
the pants in the family,

and she better know who wears
the pants in the family.

We're not gonna start off
on some pussyfoot,

if you know what I mean.

I'm not gonna tell Nomi.

- Bitch-ass.
- Yeah, smart.

You know, Dawn says she's a real twat.

I think this could really work.

I'm gonna call Werner
and get him on the FBI.

Well, dammit, I can't get a signal.

- Pull up that little antenna.
- That way.

- Mm-mm.
- No.

Try out back by the road.

All right. Thanks, guys.

- Problem solved.
- I'll be right back.

Okay, c'mon.

Who wants some pills
and coke and cough syrup?

? Pills and coke and cough syrup ?

- I love pills.
- Me too.

- Not to be a buzz kill...
- And yet you are.

Except that is your entire
reason for being on the planet.

But if you think putting us
all in one place

will tempt the killer
into making a move,

aren't we all in one place right now?

Specifically one spooky, secluded cabin

in the middle of the fucking woods?

Just make a point.

Wait, uh... He's right, Mo.

I mean, we are kinda like sitting ducks.

Take it from me.

If someone wants to kill us,
the woods are a perfect place.

Jesus Christ. You guys, calm down.

There's nothing to be afraid of.

Okay, okay.

Listen, I am not personally afraid.

And I don't think anything
is gonna happen.

That being said, maybe we just
take some precautions

and, you know, fortify the crib

just for you guys, for you guys.

And I-I-I, too, am not afraid.

But it's your party, Mo,
so whatever you say goes.

And for those who are afraid
like Keith...

- Yeah, Keith.
- Well, it makes perfect sense.

I'm probably the least scared
of anyone, if we're comparing,

but maybe it could be fun to see

how safe we could actually
make this place.

Yeah, right?

Oh, God!

- Everybody grab a weapon!
- Oh, God!

We're all gonna die! Hit the floor!

Okay now tell us the next letter.

E.

He's just confused from the trauma.

John Doe here will tell us his name

when he's good and ready.

Okay.

I got two cans of paint
and a tub of tar!

I got a bunch of ugly-ass
Christmas ornaments

and a hand torch.

Nails, toy cars for some reason.

Why don't you have any fucking weapons?

Oh, I'm sorry, Keith, I keep

- my weapons in New York City.
- Oh, my God.

You know, the most dangerous
fucking city in the world.

- I don't wanna die.
- Okay. All right.

I just got generational wealth.

You're not gonna fucking die tonight.

- All right, guys. Okay, guys.
- Will you calm down?

Well, then how are we gonna
defend ourselves

- with this shit...
- Guys!

Jesus. I got an idea.

Oh. Come on, come on, come on,

come on, come on, come on,

come on, come on, come on, come on.

- Hello.
- Werner. Yes.

I think I finally figured out
how to catch my killer.

- Who is this?
- Blair.

- Blair who?
- Pfaff.

How many Blairs do you know

have people trying to kill them?

Blair Regan Bogan, my ex-girlfriend.

She slept with my step-brother
and I want her dead.

And you thought I was her?

She has a very deep, gay voice.

Look, I need you to call the FBI

and get them to stake out
Mo's wedding tomorrow.

I have a very good feeling
my killer is gonna be there.

Well, I mean, technically
it's a bad feeling,

but either way,
we can put the thing to bed.

Question.

What makes you think the FBI
wants to do shit for you?

Mm, I don't know,
maybe because I'm going to be

the next vice president
of the United States.

No, you're not.

You're done, Blair.

So you're ready?

Oh, yeah.

Think we're gonna be able to take him.

Or her.

Well, thanks for being an ally,

but I meant, you know, to get married.

Assuming we survive tonight.

Yeah, yeah. I think so.

I mean, I'm not in my 40s anymore,

is something I'm gonna be
saying in 11 short years.

Oh. She's lucky.

Bitch.

Yeah. I'm just shocked.

That you're tying the knot?
I think we all are.

No, no. I'm...

I'm shocked it's not you.

Yeah.

We should, uh...

Yeah, it's finished.

- Okay.
- Okay, careful.

- Okay.
- Watch the glass.

Surprise, surprise.

I did everything the RNC asked me to do.

How can they drop me after
everything I've been through?

Yeah, that's why they're dropping you.

'Cause people around you
are dropping like flies

at a free urology clinic.

All these deaths have a tipping point.

No president wants a VP
with such liability.

Bush has enough liability

with his cocaine-addicted dumbfuck son.

You know what? Good.

I don't want that job.
Politics suck shit.

It's just a bunch of losers

who couldn't get laid in high school

punishing everyone who did.

I wanna do something important and good

with my life from now on, for real.

But in the meantime, that said,

the least you could do is call the FBI

and have them do this for me tomorrow.

- No, I can't.
- Why?

Because I don't work
for the RNC anymore.

My internship is done.
I'm back at college.

Okay? There's literally
nothing I could do.

Wait. You never actually
worked for the RNC?

Well, technically I got credit
towards my Poli Sci minor but...

Minor? What was your major?

Physical Education.

I also host a comedy night
at the union once a month,

which you would know had you asked me

one question about myself
literally ever.

- Well, that was intentional.
- You know what?

Even if I could call the FBI, I wouldn't

'cause you deserve to die,
you selfish prick.

Hey, but look me up
if you're ever in Bloomington

looking for a laugh.

Werner!

Happy Valentine's Day.

I got all of your favorites here.

The Times, the Journal. Rob Report.

And your oatmeal
is just the way you like it.

Half steel-cut, half instant.

Mixie-dixie.

All right, here comes the airplane.

C'mon, you gotta eat.

Hey!

I'm not giving up, so neither can you.

I know rehab can be frustrating,

but we're in this together.

You and me...

John Doe.

What the fuck?

Is that tar?

What the fuck is going on?

I couldn't stay away.

I've been thinking
about you all night, and...

maybe there's something I can do to

make you more comfortable.

Do you trust me, John?

Uh-huh.

I know.

It looks worse than it is.

But with the groundbreaking
graft work we've done,

it should still be possible
for you to...

experience pleasure.

Would you like me to show you?

Uh-huh.

Oh, my God.
The killer is here, isn't she?

It's not a fucking girl.
Stop saying that.

Then who was just screaming like that?

Why would a killer scream?

Then who was screaming?

It was probably Blair.

- Oh, my God.
- Oh, God.

Blair is dead, isn't he?

- Oh, no.
- Oh, I'm scared, Mo.

It's okay. No, really, shh, shh.

No really...

Oh, Jesus. Ugh.

Oh, my God!

- Yassir?
- Oh, my God.

What the hell are you doing here, man?

I was going to your
fucking bachelor party!

Dude, you're fucking up
all of our booby traps.

Why do you have booby traps?

'Cause whoever's trying
to kill Blair and us

is potentially out there.

Oh, my God, of course.
This is where they do it.

- Oh, shit.
- Oh, shit.

- Motherfucker.
- Blair! You're alive!

I'm alive!

I'm sorry. I heard screaming.

I thought you guys were getting killed.

That was me. I have glass in my feet.

I can honestly say

this is the most pain I've
ever been in in my entire life.

- Spoke too soon.
- Okay.

How many paint cans are there?

- Uh.
- Uh...

- Three.
- Three. Okay.

So one, there's two, and then there's...

Oh, no!

Three.

You fuckers are crafty.

You kinda brought that one on yourself

with the whole countdown thing.

I'm sorry I laughed.

I shouldn't have laughed at that.

You'd have known the shit was coming

if you hadn't fucking lied about

going to see Home Alone.

Who... gives a fuck if I saw Home Alone?

All you people do is fucking
lie all day about everything!

I don't put glass in your feet

or fucking hit y'all with paint cans.

- Oh, well, excuse us.
- Take it easy, bro.

- "Take it easy, bruh".
- Okay.

The good news is, the killer's not here.

So that's good.

- Who the fuck is that?
- Oh, shit.

Okay, okay, everyone you
invited is here, right, Mo?

Yeah.

Holy shit!

Oh, we're gonna die!

Shut the fucking door! Shut the door!

- Get the goddamn door!
- Come on!

Come on.

That's it.

You're getting stronger
every day, Johnny.

And you just keep it up

and you'll be walking
and talking in no time.

See, you're doing it.

Oh, look at you.

Better and better. Look at that form.

Look at my man go.

Yes.

Yes, you're doing it.

Me too, babe.

I just wanna say, I'm still not scared.

- No. No one's scared.
- I'm not scared.

But I also wanna say that
I'm very sorry for anything

that I might have done
to any of you, ever.

- Same.
- Same, yeah.

- I'm not sorry for shit.
- I'm gonna have glass stuck

in my foot for the rest
of my fucking life.

- What are you talking about?
- Well, fucking deal with it.

Oh, gosh.

Mo?

Nomi?

I thought this was a bachelor party.

Are y'all playing
flashlight tag or what?

No.

The power just went out.

False alarm, everybody.

Told you, nothing to be scared of,

fucking pussies.

Hey, what's going on?
Why are you here, babe?

Oh, I didn't wanna interrupt your party,

but I need to talk to you and
Dawn before the wedding.

Talk-talk to Dawn? Why?

I, um...

I'm going to Varnish.

- Great, so am I.
- You are?

Yeah. Keith, he got Mo his label back,

so we're good to go.

I'm Keith. That's my Rolls out front.

- Wait. You didn't know that?
- Yeah.

That motherfucker.

Has Arnie been calling you?

I'm-I'm sorry.

I'm Blair. Hi.

Congratulations on the engagement.

Can someone fill me in
on what we're talking about?

Who is Arnie? What is Varnish?

Other than the shit
that hit Yassir in the face.

Asshole.

Arnie Markowitz is the very attractive,

very sexual, very cool owner
of Varnish Records.

- Okay.
- And that's why Dawn's been fucking him.

Oh. Atta girl.

But now it seems like
maybe Nomi's fucking the guy.

- What?
- What the fuck?

What the fuck did you just say?

- It's a theory.
- I've always hated you.

No. We were just
talking about my career.

Oh. Well, I'm sorry.

How it would be better if I got
started with a bigger label.

But I'll never forget
what you did for me, Dawn.

Damn, Dawn, I think you just got dumped.

And I'm moving to LA.

Wait. Wait. What?

I told you she was a twat.

I'm sorry, but Arnie says

it's where all the opportunities are.

But we can try to make it work,
long distance.

S-sure.

I mean, a lot of...

a lot of marriages start
bicoastal, right?

But in light of everything,

maybe we should just push
the wedding back a little bit.

Well, I'm sorry.

Sorry?

- Come here.
- Yeah?

- Goodbye.
- Mm.

Bye, Nomi.

- Ooh.
- Oof.

After endless surgeries

and countless hours of rehab,

I think that you are finally ready.

Behold, my masterpiece.

- Eh.
- Eh? What do you mean?

- Move!
- No!

No, wait.

Johnny, you're beautiful. Don't go!

Wait! Johnny!

My name... is Lenny.

No. No.

Don't go. Please!

I can't believe she broke up
with us both.

- Hard.
- Right?

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

Well, at least it can't get
any worse. Am I right?

Why the fuck would you say that?

- Way to ride the broom.
- Jinx!

Here's something bad in three, two, one.

Hey! See? Some good luck.

Earlier today,

a titan of the financial industry

made a most shocking announcement.

Reports of my death
have been greatly exaggerated.

Tha... tha...

That's right.

It's me, Lenny.

It has been widely believed

that I was crushed on Black Monday,

only to survive long enough
to make some very...

stupid trade deals
before being left for dead

- at Wolf Lake.
- That's impossible.

Well, I am here
to set the record straight.

Not crushed nor eaten.

Still very much in control
of the Leighman Brothers.

- Oh, God.
- Furthermore,

any affiliation with the village idiot,

Keith Shankar, shall be terminated.

Fuck!

Along with anyone else
who has ever crossed me.

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck!

I think that one...
that was good, right?

We got that one.
I feel good about that one.

- I think we got it.
- Hey. Wait a minute, guys.

Look, this might be good news after all.

Mo, how?

Well, at least we know
who the fucking killer is now.

And Blair, probably right.

- I am?
- He was after all of us.

And Lord knows we deserve it.

Well.

And I'll tell you something else.

I'm not going out like that.
We ain't going out like that.

Yeah!

Especially not to some
bitch-ass brotherfucker.

Fuck him! He's a fucking nerd!

Yeah, in fucking glasses.

With glasses, exactly.

Some white boy.

Last time I looked,

everybody in this fucking room
is a killer.

Blair, you killed Jammer.

- Yeah.
- And arguably your boyfriend.

Keith, you almost killed this guy.

You did your best.

Yassir, you're a pacifist.

And Dawn, you...

you know how many people died
during Black Monday?

- So many!
- So many!

- Yes.
- And also Spencer killed

himself after you left him.

Wait. Wait. What, what?

- I thought I told you that.
- No, no.

Okay, well, he killed himself
after you left him.

What I'm saying is we've all killed.

At least all of you
have killed somebody.

We're supposed to be scared at him?

He better be fucking scared of us.

I'm fucking coked out of my mind

even though I'm, like, chill.

- And I'm ready to fucking kill this guy.
- Exactly.

For Blair, for Tiff, for Wayne,

for other people whose names
are not as significant

and I cannot remember
at this exact moment!

- Yes!
- We're gonna take this motherfucker down

- once and for all...
- Yeah!

- At my wedding!
- Yeah!

Yes! Uh-oh.

Okay, I hate to kill the vibe,
but Mo, there's no wedding.

Nomi's gone, remember? She left you.

She's outta here.

Yeah. I'm sorry, again.

Unless...

Dawn, will you fake marry me?

You? Why?

Look, I was already
getting married, okay?

We don't have to throw out
the bride and the groom.

Well, I'm the only one with
actual sham wedding experience.

Uh, beg to differ there.

Shut the fuck up, Keith.

Um...

Oh, I'm torn! I don't know!

Okay.

I can't marry a white man,
real or fake, so.

Prejudice wins again.

Get the fuck out of here. Boom.

Congratulations.

Dawn...

- My dear old friend.
- Mm.

- Didn't mean it like that.
- Okay.

Will you fake marry me?

- Fake?
- Yeah, fake.

- You all heard fake, right?
- Fake.

- Okay.
- Everybody heard me say fake.

- Yes.
- Yes?

I will fake marry you!

- Well...
- High five, then.

- Okay.
- All right.

Homeboy.

- Synced and corrected by Firefly -
- www.addic7ed.com -