All language subtitles for SurrealEstate S03E09 720p WEB h264-JFF

Previously on SurrealEstate.

My mom always told me to
look out for the nice guys.

I'm a nice guy?

Think you might be.

Luck is not a strategy!

Oh my God.

You're hearse-chasing.

I don't want to do this anymore.

Ignoring what we once had. The love.

You could have fought for us a little.

Oh, well. Something's gonna kill ya.

Something's gonna kill ya.

Elvis is Tyler.

He was your favorite toy.

We just didn't have the heart.

I understand.

You carried him everywhere.

You slept with him at night.

You'd make up stories about
the things that Elvis told you,

funny things that he did.

We just thought he was
your imaginary friend.

I mean, I'd read about
kids having those.

Do you remember any of this?

A little.

Not much.

God, there were so
many voices back then.

You would just sit and listen.

For hours, just smiling, nodding.

And then you'd talk back

in this soothing, comforting voice.

It was like the voice of
somebody much older and wiser.

I was in such a terrible
place in those days.

I know, Mom.

The voices.

You heard them, too.

From the time I was a girl.

They'd come and go, soft, faint.

But I couldn't talk
back the way you can.

I could only listen
enough to be terrified.

And with everything else
that was going on back then,

it was just too much.

It's okay.

I have to leave in a
few minutes, anyway.

Yes, Stephanie, I
bring Luke in occasionally

for special projects.

He needs the work and, well,
it's my way of giving back.

Stephanie's father
recently passed away and...

Why don't you explain?

Sorry for all this. I'd be there myself

if I hadn't broken my
leg skiing in Gstaad.

Hm.

Sorry to hear that and I'm,
uh, sorry for your loss.

My father, Magnus, was eccentric.

But that's because he was very rich.

If he'd been poor, we'd
call him a psychopath.

He was obsessed with
riddles, games, puzzles.

All my life, whenever I wanted anything,

he'd make me solve a puzzle

or figure out a riddle to get it.

That's... amazing.

- Mm-hm.
- It was infuriating

to have to jump through
his little hoops to

get your birthday presents,

your allowance. Christmas
was a living hell.

Up until he croaked, I had
to solve a stupid puzzle

to access my trust fund every month.

Sounds like a power thing.

Totally a power thing.

And now he's doing the
same thing with his house.

- Mm-hm.
- Wow.

- Mm-hm.
- Nice.

Well, unfortunately, Daddy is
pulling his shit one last time.

Magnus's will is saved
on his desktop computer

that's password-protected.

We have until midnight
tonight to find that password,

or the house will go into probate

and will probably go to the
government to pay for taxes.

Would you mind just
excusing us for one second?

Uh, sure.

What the hell, Rita? I
was at my mom's house.

How is this my problem?
This is your listing.

I haven't had time to
hire a new assistant

since Alan and Michelle's
tragic sump-pump incident,

which was not my fault.

It's a hell of a way to go.

If we don't get that
password, nobody gets bupkis.

But if you and your
little band of miscreants

can get me the password by midnight,

I'll split the commission with you.

- Fifty-fifty.
- I was thinking more 70-30.

Hm. Fifty-fifty or you're on your own.

Good news, Stephanie. My team is on it!

Really? Are you serious?

Half the commission on this?

For ten hours' work? Oh, hells yes.

I have a thing, but
for this I will move it.

How hard could it be?

I don't think it's
going to be that tough.

Stephanie's email from her lawyer

had the first clue.

My skin is grass, my teeth are stones,

I'm far too shy to show my bones.

My willows weep like widows do.

Come visit me for your next clue.

The cemetery!

- Where's Magnus buried?
- I'll find out.

It's got to be Weeping Willows.

It's totally the kind of high-end place

some local rich guy
would choose to decompose.

- I say we listen to Lomax.
- Okay.

You guys head there and
I'll get the exact location

of Magnus Clifford's grave from Rita.

I'll text you.

Something else?

I was helping out at
this community blood bank

the other day. Megan was there.

She told me you two were on the outs.

We were not together longer
than we were together.

No, but not even friends.

It's not gonna work.
We have our careers.

She has her urologist.

What about you? You and Crash?

Crash is...

something.

You and a fireman.

I mean, that's got to bring some balance

to the universe somewhere.

Does he know?

That I light fires and hurl objects

with the force of my mutant brain?

Kind of waiting for the right moment.

It'll come.

You better head to the cemetery
and I'll find that plot.

Good hunting!

Yes.

Ahh! Ooh.

Oh.

Yes?

Rita, I need an exact location

of Magnus Clifford's grave.

Well, how would I know?
He's a postmortem client.

Well, would his daughter know?

- Maybe.
- Rita, can you ask her?

Probably.

Say, Luke,

as I wander through
this magnificent home

that's within the reach of maybe

the top one percent of the one percent,

I am drawn to thoughts
of your nursing home czar,

Tyler MacNeil.

Tyler? Nah, it's not for him.

He's one of the few
people with the money,

the taste to appreciate this place.

Rita, you do not want to get
into bed with Tyler MacNeil.

Into bed? I'm old enough

to be the hot,
provocative best friend of

his very slightly older sister.

Tyler might love this house.

No! It's just no.

Call me when you get that location.

Oh!

Oui, oui, oui.

Mm-hm.

Mm-mm-mm. Ah!

Yosemite meets Augusta National! Yes.

Oo-wah.

You're in my house!

You, you're...

Ma-Ma-Magnus.

It was my understanding
that you were not as, uh...

Alive as you once were.

- I'm dead.
- Oh. Hm.

Stone cold dead.

Heart blew up like the Guns of Navarone.

So you're...

some kind of a...

Boo.

Hm. My family's in so I
basically grew up here.

Of course you did.

My parents would be
doing some business here,

you know, helping the
bereaved pick a plot,

or prepping a graveside service

and me and my sister would just
be running all over the place.

Climbing trees, hiding, seeking.

To us the cemetery was a playground.

Except the other kids just
weren't that fun to play with.

Mm-hm.

They never once threw the ball back.

Stop.

What?

I thought I heard something.

Hi.

You supposed to be here?

The gate was open.

You work here?

- Sure.
- Hey.

Um, I was wondering if you
could please help us find

where our... where our poppy is buried.

Your... poppy?

Yeah. Poppy got around.

We are just looking for his grave.

To pay our respects.

It would mean so much to my...

sistas and me.

- Poppy got a name?
- Uh, Magnus Clifford.

Clifford.

Magnus.

Magnus Clifford is down that way.

Hang a right at the big-ass obelisk.

When you reach the stone with
the name Sluchan, turn right,

it's four stones down. Can't miss it.

You know the location of
every name in this place?

It's new.

And it's huge.

Great! That's so helpful.

Thank you so much.

She was nice.

I know everyone who
works at this cemetery.

I do not know her.

She knew exactly where his grave was.

Yeah. How about that?

Well, ladies, shall we go find Poppy?

Okay.

Huh! Uh, I'm a friend.

A very, very good
friend of your daughter.

I'm sure she's mentioned me.

- Rita Weiss.
- We didn't speak.

- Oh.
- Frequently.

But there's always that
special bond, right?

I know some mothers and daughters

that fight like Jets and Sharks,

but daughters, they're
daddy's little girl.

What are you doing in my house?

Stephanie hired me to
sell the place and I will,

but first I need to find the
password to your computer.

So, yeah.

You want to give it up? 'Cause I've got

a bunch of people that are
going to find it, regardless.

Only if they live that long.

Pardon?

Here lies Magnus in the dirt,
don't feel bad, it didn't hurt,

Your next clue's near,
it's with the band,

But say goodbye...

To your right hand.

Augie, are you okay?

It seems this is more
than a friendly game

between a father and daughter.

Oh, yeah. I've gotta tell Luke.

I've got no bars.

Cellular service is being jammed.

Can someone do that?

Oh, heavens, yes. All one would need

is the resources and the desire.

I think we should
focus on our next clue.

"It's with the band."

Band.

Ooh! I know this one.
Okay, come with me!

Traps?

What kind of traps?

The only kind worth setting.

Death traps.

Oh! For your own daughter?

Ha! My daughter

never did an honest
day's work in her life.

- Still, I don't...
- I started out running grease

to the gearmen on the assembly floor,

the lowest of the low,

but I became the owner of the company.

Do you know

what that entailed? Do you?

Lots of weekends, probably.

I knew Stephanie wouldn't
lower herself to hunt for

the password herself.
That would be like work.

No, I assumed she would pass it off

to some greedy, ignorant
lackey who would take her money.

I assume that's you?

Actually, I subcontracted out
to a few lackeys of my own.

You're saying that
they're in some kind of...

danger?

Oh, I am merely the mastermind

of these little exercises.

I have a young protégé who
handles the actual logistics

ordering the stones, setting the traps.

Unlike my own child,
she is quite industrious.

Um, I, I, I don't get it.

You set traps for strangers?

I want Stephanie to feel
some kind of remorse!

Some responsibility, accountability.

For someone other than herself.

You see, that's why I never wanted kids.

Ever. Kids only...

Well, they sap your energy,
they screw up your life, right?

It's always gimme, gimme, gimme!

- All the time!
- All the time!

Sure, they're adorable
when they're little,

but ultimately they're useless,
ungrateful, inconvenient

and, God, the smell when they're little?

Holy God, the smell!

Oh!

Well, surely you must have

some pleasant memories of Stephanie?

- No.
- Oh.

There was one time.

She was ten or so.

I had just returned from Stuttgart,

had to shower and
change clothes before...

- leaving again.
- Hm.

She came into the bedroom and insisted

on having a tea party.

She set up the table, two little chairs,

couple of teacups and saucers

and we...

drank tea.

And talked about our day.

She told me some fantastical story

about Maurice, her stuffed panda bear.

And I told her how our
South Asian sales team

had failed to meet their numbers

and that put our whole quarter at risk.

She and Maurice felt that was a shame.

You had a moment.

In that moment

I saw something in her
eyes other than scorn;

greed;

wanting.

I saw only affection.

Hm.

My first husband wanted
children so badly.

He was kind, handsome, loving.

That one detail...

it was our undoing.

Good for you.

Oh, then I proceeded
to marry two more men

who had no interest in children,

mainly because they were selfish,

greedy toddlers themselves.

A woman who knows what she wants.

Oh, yes.

That's me.

- Drink?
- Oh, sweet mother of God, yes!

Thank you.

You still, uh...

I'm a corpse. Not a Methodist.

Hm.

Don't worry. I know this place.

It put me through an
out-of-state college.

So glad you're on our side.

Here. Ah, nope!

Three stones down. Two, three.

Bingo. I'm with the band. My
favorite stone in the yard.

The guy was a bandleader.

Oh, dear.

Thanks.

There!

Did you dodge? Did you duck?
Did it miss you? What luck!

But you'll never escape me alive.

The next clue we'll be giving
at a house not for living.

Wait for dark and walk
12 yards times five.

Sixty yards.

It'll be dark before long.

If only this guy could've
taken that job with Hallmark.

This all could have been avoided.

Now that it's dark
it's a lot harder to see

what other little surprises
Mr. Clifford has for us.

Maybe we should just cut and run.

Last clue did say we'd
never make it out alive.

Suppose he could have
electrified the fence.

Or just hired a sniper to pick us off.

He'd have to write a poem about it.

What rhymes with sniper?

Uh, diaper. Viper.

Ugh, don't go there. I hate snakes.

Hey, where's August?

- Oh, great.
- August!

Over here.

At a house "not for living."

"Every lock needs a key.

On that can we agree?

But this one's elusive as heck.

Lift your eyes up to God,
Ask His son for a nod,

For it hangs from the carpenter's neck."

So, Jesus, right?

God's son. And a carpenter.

There's got to be a whole
lot of Jesus around here.

Well, He's a very popular item

among your anthropomorphic
memorial statuary options.

Number three, trailing
only the angels and his mom.

There's no directions,

so one would expect it to be close by.

Over there.

Good eye.

What?

After all these years,

I finally found Jesus.

- Look. Around his neck.
- Oh, just a moment.

Oh my God.

The stakes.

It seems they have been raised.

This is August Ripley.

Mahatma Gandhi once said,
"My life is my message."

Leave yours at the beep.

August, call me.

Hi, you've reached Susan Ireland,

partner at Roman Ireland.

I wish you the serenity
to leave me a message

if it's important, the patience
to hit me back later if it's not

and the wisdom to know the difference.

It's Luke. Call me.

It's Lomax. Beeeeep.

It's Luke.

Luke. Rita.

Listen, did your people
go to the cemetery?

Yeah. They're there now.

Oh.

Uh, so some new
information just came in.

The location of the grave?

- Not exactly.
- Then what?

I have it on good authority

that your people might be in some,

well, let's call it, uh,

mortal dahn-zhay.

What? Who told you
that? Was it Stephanie?

Actually, I'm here with
Magnus Clifford himself

With who?

He says...

That's enough.

I don't want to take
all the fun out of this.

Hate to stop by without calling first.

"Good for you. You're not dead.

There's just one stone ahead.

It contains the true password you seek.

If you fight to the death
To your ultimate breath

You might live long enough for a peek

It's a stone with an eye
And perhaps if you try

You will read the engraving that's there

But I doubt that you'll make it

Your next breath, when you take it

Will reveal that you've run out of...

air."

- What's the clock for?!
- I have a theory.

- It's not pleasant.
- Of course not.

Did you hear the thunk
when the door closed?

Yeah.

The line in the poem
about running out of air?

We're gonna run out of air?

In about 13 minutes

if that is correct.

Well, shit!

Help us!

So the headmistress is blushing

and she clarifies for
the girls that a Fokker

- Was a type of German aircraft.
- Hah.

Sir Douglas Bader says
to the headmistress

"Well, madam, that may
be, but these Fokkers

were flying Messerschmitts"!

Oh! It's past nine.

They'll never find the password in time.

They might not even be...

Alive.

Their own damn fault.

The point is you've won.

Here's the thing:

Why not just let me out, huh?

I'll wangle a deal with the bank
to handle the sale in probate.

I've already got a
multi-millionaire in mind

who'd be perfect.

I'll reach out to him this very night.

You can deprive Stephanie of the house,

but preserve its value
for those left behind.

That'd be you?

Mm.

Truth is...

that tea party story
made me remember the good

that was in Stephanie.

It might be there still.

It might.

Go on. Get out. I have thinking to do.

Hm.

Regardless, bravo for
you never having children

in the first place.

You're the smart one, Rita.

Yep, that's me.

I'm the smart one.

And he didn't even slow down.

... and they're
fighting over the estate.

- Has to be a way out!
- Door is airtight.

- Luke!
- Luke! Thank God.

- How did you find us?
- Well, you know that thing I do

to find spirits in the house?

I kind of did the reverse
to find live humans

in a place full of spirits.

So, instead of a ping,
you sent out a gnip.

Come on. We're running out of time.

Mr. MacNeil? My name is Rita Weiss.

I realize you've retained
real estate counsel

and I respect that,

even though the counsel
you've chosen might be...

Oh, what's a kind and
loving way of saying this?

Clinically insane?

Okay.

I currently represent
a magnificent property

that might touch you on
a very intimate level.

Yet for reasons of his own,
Luke has not exposed it to you.

I feel that it is my responsibility,

my duty, to expose myself.

That is, to expose it myself.

Well, I know Luke's been
busy. I tried him this morning.

Oh, this morning? Huh. He
was visiting his mother.

Perfectly fine, I guess, but, uh,

- priorities, right?
- His mother?

- Mm-hm.
- She's here?

Uh-huh.

Mr. MacNeil,

I believe we have business to do.

- Okay.
- Okay.

Luke's mother. Adorable.

Okay, Lomax, you have no
idea where the big guy is?

Yeah, I sort of,
kind of remember seeing it,

but I have no idea where. Sorry, boss.

No, it's okay.

But we're going to have
to split up and find it.

Either way, let's meet
in the parking lot.

Let's say 20 minutes?

Things are really nice here.

Yes, we're still here?

Hey, Augie, can I, uh,

can I ask you a personal question?

I suppose.

When you had to explain to
Rochelle that you were...

you know, that we were...

You mean when I had to explain to her

that I was working for a
firm that might someday ask me

to spend a long night in a cemetery

searching for a headstone
with an all-seeing eye?

Yeah.

How did you do it?

Rochelle is a rare woman.

Once-in-a-lifetime.

She'd made a living of
confronting the impossible,

so how could she... ?

Augie?

Right.

Yes.

How could she tell me to do otherwise?

You're a lucky guy.

Yes.

I was.

I assume this is about a gentleman?

Yeah, I've only known him
for a little while, but, um,

Yeah, he's, he's kind of great.

I can only tell you
what I know for certain,

which is

never be ashamed of who you are

and what you do.

If he can't accept it,

best to know now.

Hello.

Have you seen my husband?

No. I'm sorry.

His name is Jasper.

He told me he'd catch up to
me, but I haven't found him yet.

How long were you and Jasper together?

Only a few months.

Took us so long to get together.

And when we did, finally,

we thought we had all
the time in the world.

And then I died.

And here we are.

Why so long?

To connect?

I had a career.

He was in the service.

We let it all play out.

Bumped into each other
every now and then.

Passion flared, hot and bright.

Mm.

And then we'd go our separate ways,

promising each other

it was just a matter of time.

I knew it, deep in my bones,

that he was the one.

I should have taken him, kept him,

loved him.

Shouldn't have waited.

He'll be by.

I'm sure of it.

I hope so.

By the way,

you haven't seen a stone? A headstone.

Big one. Like a all-seeing eye on it?

Oh, Christ. I hate that stone.

Girl in overalls just
put it up the other day.

You really wanna see it?

Oh, please.

You found it?

- Who found it?
- I found it. I got it.

The password? Really?

Heading to the house now.
When you get to a place

where your phone works, you call Rita.

Have her meet me there.

- You found it?
- Yep.

Hurry up. We've only got two minutes.

Sheesh.

'Suh-tev.'

What does this mean? It
doesn't mean anything.

I thought it would at least...

Sound it out phonetically.
Threes are Es.

S-teph-U-L hate this. Ste...

Steph you will hate this!

Father of the year.

- You're back.
- Hm. We found the password.

Your people all right?

As good as they'll ever be.

What's in the new will?

I cut her out. Stephanie.

She doesn't get the house,
the estate... none of it.

It's pretty harsh.

And yet she's still your daughter.

Nothing's gonna change that.

She'll always be the little
girl with the tea party

and the panda.

Do you really want your
last gesture on this Earth

to be an extended middle
finger towards her?

There's a...

set of encyclopedias
on the shelves there.

Bring me the W volume,

if you'd be so kind.

Hm.

It's an alternate will.

I composed and signed
it when I was in a...

bit more magnanimous mood.

It leaves everything to Stephanie.

Perhaps you could hide it under a piano

suspended from a great height?

Or I could just give it to her.

Tell her that it's a
present from her dad

who loved her very much,
but had a bitch of a time

showing it.

Be the bigger man.

And unleash a category five
shit hurricane of familial guilt

that she'll be explaining
to expensive therapists

for the rest of her natural life.

Hmm.

Oh.

I was surprised when
you called last night. ***

Well, thanks for making the time.

It's good to get out in the sunshine.

How was the night in the ER? ***

Hm, you know, the usual.

Friday night knife and gun club.

So, what's up?

Everything okay?

It's just I was talking to somebody

the other day.

This woman. Really nice.

She told me about all the time

that she'd lost with her husband.

I take it that one person
in the scenario is deceased?

So, anyway, she had all this regret.

She'd known for a long time

that they were always
meant to be together,

but there was always
something else to do.

Jobs. Travel.

Life.

Yeah. Life.

But all along, they knew...

they thought

they had all the time in the world.

Turns out they didn't.

This is turning into
a dark little stroll

- in the sunshine.
- I love you, Megan.

I've known since I showed
up on your doorstep.

These last few years
we've been doing this

awkward little foxtrot,

moving in and out of each other's lives,

seeing other people, having lunch,

but I have always known.

Luke, I-I-I...

You don't have to answer me.

I know you're in a relationship
and the timing sucks.

But it's just too easy to wait
for the timing not to suck.

Before you know it
I'm sitting on a bench

in the cemetery at 11:08 PM some night

explaining that I thought

we had all the time in the world.

A long time ago Susan told
me that if I liked you,

I should make a move.

So, finally...

Finally.

Finally, I'm taking her advice.

Megan, I love you.

So I guess the next move

is up to you.

Hi, it's Madeline, I can't
come to the phone right now,

so just leave me a message
and I'll hit you back.

Hi, uh, Mads.

It's, it's Mom!

Uh, look, I know it's been a long time.

It's just, uh,

well, I was thinking of you
and I thought maybe we could,

I don't know, get together
for a coffee or, or tea?

I'd really love to see you

and hear what's going on in your life.

Maybe it's time.

Okay. Uh, I really
hope you call me back.

Anytime. Really.

And...

I hope you're happy, Madeline.

Goodbye.

Hm.

Miss Woodhouse?

I need to have a word
with you. It's about Luke.

What about Luke? Is he all right?

Perhaps I could step inside?

Oh, I'm sorry. I don't know you.

I'm Luke's friend, Tyler!

Your son needs you, Miss Woodhouse.

You're not going to desert him...

again, are you?

Although it would be very on-brand.

- Synced and corrected by naFraC -
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