All language subtitles for real7

Previously on SurrealEstate.

TAG: I was just wondering
if you're all right.

Yeah, I'm fine.
It's sweet of you to ask.

I think Tag is crushing on you.

- [intriguing score]
- Susan.

I'm Crash.

They want me to tell you
not every soul

needs a kick in the ass
so listen.

You scare me, Tyler.

It's about Tyler MacNeil.

Tyler is obsessed
with Luke Roman.

- [loud dramatic score]
- [blustery gusting wind]

MAN: This is gonna be
a bad one!

[electrical arcing]
Ah! Honey!

Where are the car keys?

In the car!

[dramatic score]

- [man exhales sharply]
- Tim...

What? Please, can we just go?

I forgot something.

Stay in the car.
- No. No! Tim!

[exhales sharply]

[music box music plays faintly]

[wind howls]

[woman breathes hard]
(whispers) Oh. Oh.

[thunder rumbles]
Oh God.

Go. Go!

- [gear selector shifts]
- [engine revs]

- [tires screech]
- [engine revs]

[dramatic opening theme]

[distant man screaming]

[theme fades out]

LOMAX: Here is
the title search, insurance.

RITA: Mm-hm.
A settlement statement.

As negotiated, they're leaving
some of the appliances

and the window coverings.

And... [sighs]
This is my favourite part.

[laughs]

[quiet mischievous score]

- [man laughs]
- RITA: Uh-huh.

Oh! Cash deals.

More rare than a happy marriage

and far more fungible. [laughs]
- [score fades out]

Especially for
first-time homebuyers.

Bitcoin paid off.

Oh!
So that's the Crawford Group?

Yeah, it made sense tax-wise

to
purchase through my corporation.

RITA: Hmm.
Well, it's been a treat.

Next time
you have a quick cash deal,

nobody needs to know. Shh.

- [Rita laughs]
- We're sitting right here.

- Bye.
- [footsteps receding]

You'll have to excuse Rita.

She may come off
as a cold, unfeeling,

ruthless house-selling machine.

So, when are you moving in?

We're actually, um...

We're not done yet.

We heard that your agency
is special.

[quiet mysterious score]

Well, we like to think so.

We heard from a guy
that you understand stuff

that a lot of other people...
don't.

That is fair to say.

But this house, I don't think
it has the type of problem that

I think you are talking about.

Not yet.

Maybe you should just tell us

exactly what
you're talking about.

Um... [scoffs]

For the past three years,
we've been on the lam.

The lam?

We have moved in
and out of 22 homes?

If you can call a place
that you've lived for two weeks

a home.

Because every single time,
[scoffs]

it finds us.

And we've tried everything:
exorcisms, witch doctors.

Dreamcatchers, Lutherans.

We're tired of running.

Exhausted. And now we have
a baby due in a few weeks.

It's time to make a stand.

Well, you still haven't told us
what it is that's following you.

I don't know!
[sighs]

What do YOU call it?
A curse? A monster?

A following... thing.

We just, we want you
to take care of it.

You know, zap it, or whatever.

- [score fades out]
- Zap it?

Yeah, that's what you do, right?

[phone buzzes]

[phone keyboard clicking]

LOMAX: It's a thing I get;
a twitch.

Like a sixth sense, only one
that makes you wanna sneeze.

So, what's it telling you
this time?

The Vendels are hiding
something.

Do you mind checking them out
for me?

Family history, past residences,
business dealings...

Anything you can find.
- [phone ringing]

- Tyler, hi.
- Luke. Great to hear from you.

D'you get my message?
- Yeah. About that.

I just wanted to let you know
that I've decided it's best if

we not partner on this
housing venture at this time.

I'm sorry. What?

It's just that I spoke with
my partner, Susan, and, well,

she's uncomfortable
with the basic philosophy

behind the deal.

[scoffs]

Your partner doesn't like
the philosophy?

Yeah. I can't say
that I necessarily disagree.

[dramatic score]

I thought this was
our deal, Luke.

It was.
But in a deal like this

Susan and I, well, we have to be
on the same page.

It's not going to work, Tyler.
I'm sorry.

If I wasn't
such a seasoned professional

my feelings might be hurt.

You don't want me for an enemy,
Luke.

No, I don't.

It's not personal, it's--
- Business.

I'm aware of that.

I'm disappointed.
I didn't get a chance

to pitch Susan directly.
You're obviously close.

Very.

Well, then, just forget
I ever walked into your world

and offered you
the deal of a lifetime.

Right.
Thanks for understanding.

I'll be in touch.

[phone clatters]

[sighs]

Great little partner
you got there.

[score intensifies]

Be a shame
if something happened to her.

[score crescendos, abates]

- HUSBAND: Claire? You find it?
- [paper crinkling]

Yep.

- [tender score]
- [Claire sighs]

[light hammering]

[Claire sighs through nose]

HUSBAND: Do you think
we should have told them?

They don't need to know.

But...

what if it helps them?

To know the whole picture,
I mean?

To know that it's my mother?

Come on, Tim.

What kind of monster am I
to not only be glad

that my mother is dead,
but to actually want her

deader than dead?

What kind of daughter,
what kind of person--

[dramatic score]

- Claire?
- Ow!

- Oh.
- [Claire gasps, pants]

Something's not right.

We're heading to the hospital.
Now.

Okay. Okay.

[Claire sighs, groans]

[score intensifies]

- [click]
- [music box music plays]

[score fades out]

You do have some pre-eclampsia.
High blood pressure.

Now, in and of itself,
that's not a concern, but

it's vital you keep stressors
to an absolute minimum.

TIM: No problem.

Thank you, Dr. Naismith.

[quiet tender score]

- We're gonna be fine.
- [Claire sighs]

Hey, everything is
gonna be fine. Hm?

We have the perfect place
to call home,

the Roman/Ireland people
are working the problem

and I'm going to make sure
nothing touches us.

Or her.

Okay.

- SUSAN: Good morning!
- [score fades out]

A little something from us
to you.

- Thank you, Susan.
- Of course!

Everything good
with your lovely new home?

- There's one...
- [loud snap]

[Susan gasps]

...thing.
- The toaster?

It's not ours.
Previous owners left it behind.

- [tense score]
- Oh, okay.

Well, let's just donate it
to Goodwill, or somebody.

See, that's the thing.
Every time we put it out

on the curb,
or drop it at the Goodwill,

it shows up
back on our counter again.

Oh. That's... unusual.

MAN: But that's not all.

I thought my right rear
looked a little low.

Sorry?

This toaster is predicting
that I'm gonna have

a flat tire today.

It's a toaster of destiny.
Just the other day,

the toaster popped up an image
of a baseball.

Later that same day,

a kid next door hit a home run
through our window!

Just as the toaster prophesied.

[sucks teeth]

All right.

It's gone. I will dispose of it
in the appropriate manner.

All right?

Enjoy the house.

It'll be back.

TAG: Looking through the names
of these dummy corporations

they've been setting up
obviously in an effort

to hide from someone--
or something--

I looked through the names.
The Cagney Corporation.

Gable Inc. The Rosebud Company.
See the pattern?

- Pattern?
- Old movies.

These people are obviously
old movie buffs.

Now, what was the name of
the company

that bought their new house?
- The Crawford Group.

Bingo.

Joan Crawford?
- [score fades out]

Won an Oscar for Mildred Pierce
in 1946.

[score fades out]
No more wire hangers! Ever!

Sorry. Total fly-by.

Okay, okay, okay.
Faye Dunaway plays Joan Crawford

as a not-very-cool mom.
- [soft eerie score]

which led me down a rabbit hole
to the obvious conclusion that

the entity tracking the Vendels
and messing with their shit

is, in fact,
another not-very-cool mom,

the mother of the woman...
- Claire.

Claire.
Claire's mother, Emma Shields,

died three years ago,

the precise time
the hauntings began,

which happens to be
the last time

the Vendels had
a permanent address.

I also unearthed
several complaints

during their time jumping from
hotel to motel to house rental.

In one disturbingly
specific account,

the words Clairie Bear--

and I'm quoting
the police report here--

were crudely carved
into walls and headboards.

Claire. Clairie Bear,
a sympathetic affectation.

No, I get it, but it's just
why wouldn't they tell us?

Well, in a rather dark
left turn

down Research Boulevard,
just a block away from

Potentially Criminal Violation
of Privacy Statutes Avenue,

I happened upon Claire's
childhood health records.

Whoa. Her medical records?
Isn't that a HIPAA violation?

I'm not telling anyone.
Are you?

- Nope.
- Well, no harm done.

Anyway, it turns out
young Claire was a regular

at their local hospital ER.
She suffered

dozens of seemingly normal
adolescent injuries:

burns, hematomas, broken bones.

Nothing in and of itself
alarming until one notes that

she was there
three or four times a year

throughout her young life.

- [soft sigh]
- TIM: Any news?

Nothing definite,
but we do have a theory.

Claire, tell me
about your mother.

[score fades out]

We didn't come here
for family therapy.

We came to you because of--

Yes, for all of the... zapping.
I know.

But without all of the details
pertinent to a situation

it can be difficult
to get to that point.

[resigned sigh]

[tender score]

It's not as if
my mother was just mean.

Evil.

She was pure evil.

I was, like, three,

but I remember having
these tiny, little bruises

all over my body.

Always in places that the
daycare workers wouldn't see.

I just thought that I...

needed to be nicer

so that Mother
would like me more.

But no matter what I'd try...

making up songs about her,
giving her drawings,

it just, it made her...

angry.

(emotional) By the time
I was in my teens

she started calling me
ugly and stupid.

She used to tape up
the corners of my mouth

to teach me to smile more.

She said it was for my own good,

that she was teaching me

to be ready for all the misery
and disappointment of life.

And afterward she would...

She would always smile and say,

I only wish you well.

I'm so sorry.

TIM: See?
Somebody knows the truth

and the world didn't end.

[Claire inhales deeply, sighs]

- [scoffs]
- [sniffles]

I'm so sorry, babe.

[tender score]

You didn't sign up for this.

I did sign up for this.

All of it.

If it's part of you,
it's part of me.

[Claire inhales through nose]
And hey,

lots of husbands don't get on
with their mother-in-law.

It's kind of a cliché.

[Claire laughs through nose]

[Tim chuckles]

- [dramatic boom]
- Oh my God.

The picture. It's straight.

[score intensifies]

She's here.

[score fades out]

[incoming video call
notification]

- Bhavin, Anika. Good morning!
- It's back.

[dramatic score]

- I don't get it. How did it...?
- ANIKA: That's what it does.

My tire blew out
on the expressway.

I had to change it
on the side of the road.

- [toaster clicks, rattles]
- Here's the toast of the day.

It's nobody we know.

Do you recognize him?

Um, he looks sort of like
a fireman I met recently.

Let me send a courier to pick up
the toaster.

It's time to get my research guy
on this.

And Anika?
Save me that slice, would you?

Sure.

- CLAIRE: She's here.
- LUKE: How do you know?

Mother hates disorder,

so whenever we move
into a new place

we leave something hanging
on the wall that's crooked.

We know
she'll straighten it out.

- Did she?
- CLAIRE: Oh, yeah.

But that's just the beginning.
Next, she'll be organizing

our shoes by the front door,
rearranging the cutlery drawer.

Don't love her
messing with knives.

And then there's the smell:
liniment cream.

She used to smear it
all over her hands.

And the music box playing
in the middle of the night.

And then the pinches.

Welts popping up
all over my body.

And then, all of a sudden,

she's there.

And that's when all hell
breaks loose.

[score fades out]

This might sound obvious,
but have you ever tried

just talking to her?
- [Claire scoffs]

When people die,
get stuck in the minors,

can't move on to the show,

it's often because they have
some unfinished business.

Maybe, uh, Emma just wants to
meet her only grandchild.

That is exactly
what we're afraid of.

- [Tim inhales calming breath]
- Guys, you don't get it.

She's not lost.

She's not searching.
She's not unfinished.

She's not even human.

She wasn't even human
when she was human.

- She just wants to mess with us.
- She just wants to torture me

and everybody that I love.
- Okay.

We get it.
But if you're okay with it,

I would like to try
talking first.

[Claire scoffs]

You're the experts.

The courier just brought it by.

Great. So, what's your take?

Um...

Can I be honest with you?

You know, I've always been
a freelancer.

You know, a hired gun.

Between that and my
particular predilection

for not going out in the world
where there are bears and mimes

and falling pieces of
space debris,

I tend to, you know, uh,

fly solo.
- [tender score]

This gig with Roman/Ireland,

it's the first time I've been
a part of anything

resembling a team and...

I like it. I like it more than
I thought I would.

We like it too.

But I wouldn't say
it's like a family

because I hate people who say
anything is like a family

because the only thing like a
family is a family

and I say that as someone
who's never had a family myself,

so, let's just say
Roman/Ireland feels like home

and I like it here.

So, back to the toaster.

[keyboard clicks]

Look what it served up
this morning.

Huh. Is this...
This anybody you know?

Just a friend.

Apparently, the toaster
gives the user glimpses

into the future. Do you mind
digging into this thing?

- Can do.
- Great!

Thanks, Tag.

So, this friend, um,

are you gonna see him soon?

Apparently. He's on the toast.

- Bye, Susan.
- [signoff bleep]

[laughs quietly]

[keyboard clicking]

- [message sending whoosh]
- [click]

Yeah, I feel you, Mom.

[sharp exhale]

[score darkens]

- [boom, high-pitched noise]
- [static]

♪ WOMAN: Clairie Bear
You run, you hide ♪

♪ But I never left
I only died ♪

♪ You're not fit
You'll never be ♪

♪ The only mommy here... ♪

(demonic voice)
♪ Is me ♪

[score intensifies]

[score fades out]

They did not
and because they did not

the looming danger
of burnt toast

was omnipresent, much like
the threat of nuclear war today.

But all that changed,
minus the nuclear war,

when this guy came along.
- [keyboard clicks]

Charles Strite invented
the toaster on a timer

in 1921.
Brilliant. Visionary.

World-changing in its
application of

the Maillard reaction,
which, as you know,

is a chemical reaction
between amino acids

and reducing sugars
to create melanoidins,

the compounds which give
browned food

its distinct flavor.
- Everybody knows that.

Well, but for Strite,
toasters became an obsession

and it wasn't long
before he entered

the shadowy world of the occult.

The occult?
But it's just toast.

Well, not to Strite.
In his twisted, brilliant mind,

Strite came to believe that
by manipulating the melanoidins

he was not only able to
predict the future,

but burn it
onto a slice of bread.

So how did it find its way
back to the Patels' house?

Ah! So it seems that Strite had
a protégé named Alan McMasters.

McMasters was sad to see

Strite's slow descent
into madness

so in the late '20s
he stole the clairvoyant toaster

out of the lab one night
and hid it in his own home.

He died in that same house
in 1929

and on that
very same site today...

[keyboard clicks]

The Patels' house.

So that's why the toaster
keeps ending up back there.

It is drawn to the only home
it ever knew,

but yearns for its creator.

Wow.

Yeah, you don't really see
that kind of loyalty

in a small appliance.

Thanks, Tag.
It's really great work.

Shall I send the toaster back?

My guess is it'll find its way
back to the Patels on its own.

[Tag laughs through nose]

- [keyboard clicks]
- [connection disconnect beep]

- [keyboard clacking rapidly]
- [score intensifies]

- [loud metallic clattering]
- [score abates]

[creepy score]

[dramatic boom]

Emma!

[score fades out]

Emma?

Emma.
- [music box playing song]

[quiet creepy score
plays along with music box]

- [score intensifies]
- [dramatic boom]

Well, hi.

Who are you?

How can you be...?

Why're you here?

This isn't your world anymore.

[chuckles drily]

Oh, but I'm not
finished with it yet.

(whisper) I'm going to be
a grandma!

Emma, don't.

Where's Claire? The brat.

You know, she can't raise
a child.

She's too weak.

Too stupid.

- Emma.
- No.

That child needs me.

[sucks teeth]
Only chance she's got.

I can teach her things,
secret things.

Things that her mother
was never smart enough to grasp.

[Emma cackles]

[music box music stops]

You need to leave them alone
and go back to wherever--

- [Emma shrieks]
- [Luke groans]

(demonic) Get out of
my grandbaby's nursery!

[intense score]

[score abates]

And, um, tell Claire

I'm coming.

- [Luke sighs]
- [Emma laughs]

Don't worry.
I only wish her well.

[score intensifies]

- [score abates, fades out]
- [phone ringing, buzzing]

Hey.
Well, not so great, really.

Howzabout...

No, I don't think so.

Listen, Susan, we're gonna
have to regroup here in a bit.

Can you transfer me to August?

I need a little something
from his toolkit.

Okay.

Text me the address
and I'll meet you.

- [footsteps approaching]
- [quiet tense score]

Well, for the second time today,

I feel more than
a little bit stupid.

[toaster clicks]

[score intensifies]

[high-pitched tone crescendos,
echoes as it abates]

Well?

There's something.
I don't know.

Is it Strite?

- [metallic clatter]
- I'm going to head out

and give it a try.

[distant birds twittering]

[metal toaster clatters]

[score intensifies]

[high-pitched whine abates]

[multiple voices
echoing indistinctly]

[uplifting heroic score]

I believe you have
something of mine.

They told me
non-enzymatic browning

was incongruous
with precognition.

They called me mad!

Well, who's mad now?
[laughs]

Pretty sure that's a
rhetorical question, Mr. Strite?

Charles Strite.

Remember that name
with the great seers

and prognosticators,

the great visionaries
of the ages.

Toastradamus.

That son of a bitch McMasters.

He was jealous of my genius.
He stole my device.

And do you know who
put him up to it?

All those cheap bastards
who control Big Bread!

It's a big, yeasty,
gluten-packed cartel of evil!

May I?

[moans]

You two
probably want to be alone.

Thank you.

You have righted
a horrible wrong.

Pretty much what I do.

[door closes]

What happened?

Where's the toaster?

It's... gone.

To a better place.

Okay.

CLAIRE: I just can't stand
the thought of that,

of her, in the nursery.
- [score fades out]

- I know. Hot.
- Thank you.

I'm sorry, Claire.
We had to try.

It's scary enough
just becoming a mom, you know?

[tender score]

I wasn't planning on it.
[sighs]

I didn't want to
continue the pattern.

But...

now it's happening and...

it actually gives me hope.
[laughs]

It's like it's a chance for me
to break free from

all of the awful memories and...

forge a new path.

Your husband said it.

It's time for you
to make your stand.

- [sighs]
- [score fades out]

[indistinct chatter]

- Hey!
- Hey!

Hi. You look...

so great.

Yeah, I hope this place is okay.
One of the guys at the station

said it was "the" spot.
- Oh.

But I forgot to mention
it was a date, so...

Oh my God. This is a date?

Uh, well...

- I'm just kidding.
- Oh.

- I have a cruel streak.
- Ah, geez.

Don't do that!
I'm surprisingly fragile.

- [Susan laughs]
- [Crash chuckles]

Oh, thanks.
- Thank you.

Um, I'll get
whatever she's having.

Yeah.

So, save any little old ladies
holding cats stuck up in trees

from any fires today?
- Oh, God, yeah.

Three before lunch, actually.
- Ah. Wow.

Yeah. How about you?

Small kitchen appliance issue
at one place,

but nothing I can't handle.

Mm. I bet.
My mom used to clean

other peoples' homes
for a living.

Sometimes I'd go with her
and we would walk through

these amazing homes
and she would say,

"Someday, Charlie,

we're gonna have
one of these places."

We never got there.
- Aw. I'm so sorry.

No, I see you helping people
like my mom get the places

that make their dreams
come true.

That's so awesome.

Yes. Yes, it absolutely is.

- [glass clinks onto bar]
- Oh. Thank you.

Cheers.

Uh, I'm glad you texted.

I was gonna a bunch of times,
but I just was nervous.

Why?

You're totally
out of my league. I...

[Susan laughs]

What?

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

Guys you might fall for.
She...

She said they're out there,
but they hide.

Mm.
She sounds like a character.

Mm. She was.

I lost her
a little over a year ago.

Oh my God. I am so sorry.

No! I was just thinking
how much she'd love you.

So...

I'm a nice guy?

Think you might be. Yeah.

But I found
where you were hiding.

[laughs]

[whoosh]

[baby crying]

[tense score]

[soft sigh]

- [dramatic boom]
- [disquieting score]

[baby crying]

[light switch clicks]

[baby crying]

[Emma shushing]

♪ EMMA: You little darling
One two three ♪

♪ I'm gonna make you
Just like me ♪

♪ Fingers ♪
- [baby cries]

♪ Hair so fine ♪

♪ You're not Mommy's girl ♪

[baby continues crying]

♪ You're mine ♪

[tense dramatic score]

[baby crying]

Ready?

Ahh...

No! No!

What?! What is it?
Is it the baby?

No. No.

[score intensifies, fades out]

She's attached to Claire
like a pernicious weed

sprouting out of a crack
in the sidewalk.

I've designed a new device
with a dual processor

so, the severance of
the connection

and the atomization
of the spirit

can happen simultaneously,

along with short-term storage
of the residual consciousness.

- [quiet score]
- Do you think it'll work?

Certainty is for toasters.

Good point.

Now, it will work,
but not quickly.

Think dial-up internet
and dot matrix printers.

Got it. Let's get moving.

TIM: You're sure this
won't hurt Claire or the baby?

Not a scratch.

Grandma, on the other hand,
should be contained.

But she must be
transferred quickly

to a sturdier receptacle.
And the device takes time--

- [music box song plays]
- [dramatic boom]

LOMAX: Wasn't that
in the nursery?

I brought it down here.

I didn't want it
anywhere near them.

- Tim?
- It's okay, babe.

No, it's not.

My water just broke.

Uh, Tim, let's get Claire
to the hospital.

- [score intensifies]
- EMMA: Stay where you are!

- [click]
- [wavering high-pitched tones]

- It's not ready!
- [screeches]

[August grunts]

[dramatic score]

Clairie Bear,

step away.

I only want my grandbaby.

No.

You can't have her.

I can.

[score intensifies]

Get away from her, you bitch!

What did you say?

I said NO!

[scoffs, chuckles]

You're no mother.

Not to me, not to anyone.

You are a vicious, cruel shrew
whose time has come and gone.

And you can't hurt me anymore,
ever!

Oh. [cries]

You're hurting me.
[crying]

Get out of here.

Leave now and never come back.

After all I've done for you.
You dare speak to me like that!

[device booms on]
No! No!

[pained groaning]

Ahh!

- [whoosh]
- [descending swoop]

- AUGUST Oh, dear.
- LUKE: What's oh, dear?

Short-term storage just became
very, very short-term.

- LUKE: How short?
- AUGUST: Seconds.

We need something else
to put it in. Now!

Here!

- [low-end boom]
- [descending whoosh]

- [Luke grunts]
- We need something to secure it!

What? Like a ritual or a spell?

I was thinking more along
the lines of packing tape.

Oh.

Okay.

- [score abates]
- We did it.

[Claire laughs]

- You did it, Claire.
- [both laugh]

This is,
this is a lovely moment, really,

but do you think maybe somebody
could get me to the hospital?

- Yeah. You good?
- LUKE (whisper): Yeah.

LOMAX: Okay. Let's go! Heh.
Hey! A baby! Yay!

- CLAIRE: Okay.
- [score fades out]

She said it's small,
but very deep.

- [gentle score]
- TIM: Sounds perfect.

[birds chirping]

[Claire sighs gently]

[long exhale]

Goodbye, Mother.

I only wish you... well.

[distant splash]

[relieved sigh]

[relieved exhale]

- [keyboard click]
- [knocking at door]

- [score fades out]
- [keyboard click, bleep]

Tag?

Come on Tag, open up.

- [keyboard click, bleep]
- [multiple dings]

- [mechanical click, ratcheting]
- [door opening]

- [gentle score]
- [door hinges creak]

[door closes]
So, hi.

You're taller
than I pictured you.

Yeah, I get that a lot.

[Susan laughs through nose]
Um, come in.

Something to drink?
I've got bottled water or...

Water.
- No, no. I'm good.

I'm good, thank you.

Oh! Here's the report
on that brick of yours.

Uh, it's fairly specific, so...
- [score fade out]

Thanks, Tag.

Oh, can I get your opinion
on something?

- Sure.
- Yeah, um.

For the past six months
I've been trying to figure out

what kind of flooring to put in.
I go back and forth.

Some days I'm liking
the oat frosted oak plank

and other days I'm leaning
towards the dark maple.

Then again, I have
my tile days, as well.

I even flirted with linoleum
once but turns out

I had screwed up my meds.

Dark maple.

- Yeah?
- You have this massive space,

all this whiteness and light.

Dark maple will give it
richness and contrast.

Richness. Contrast.

Damn, you're good. Thank you.
- [both laugh]

Yeah. Listen, I won't stay,
it's just, um...

Tag, what you said about
being a part of the team.

It was nice.

- [tender score]
- It was true.

So, these came in today.

I order them
for all of our employees.

Kind of incurably analog

and I think
stuff like this matters.

Whether you are in the office
or not, you are one of us.

Tag Guinness. The Answer Guy.
Roman/Ireland Real Estate.

I remember when I got
my first business cards.

It was so emotional.

And I thought

somebody thinks enough of me
to put it on 14-point cardstock.

Mm, it mattered.

It matters.

Well, anyway,
have a good night.

- Thank you, Susan.
- You're welcome.

And I'll see you, uh...
[sucks teeth]

You know, up on the screen.

[sucks teeth]

[footsteps receding]

- [long exhale]
- [door opens]

(whispers) Wow.

- [door hinges creaking]
- [chuckles]

Wow.

- [quiet laugh]
- [business card snaps onto desk]

[soft thud into chair]

[long calming exhale]

[keyboard clacking]

- [sniff]
- [score intensifies]

[dramatic boom]
Susan Ireland. Rest In Peace.

[score intensifies, abates]

[dramatic percussive score]

Hi!
You've reached Susan Ireland,

[voice message distorts]

[handle clicks]

[score abates]

- [door thuds loudly]
- [Tag gasps]

[loud heartbeats]

[grating discordant score]

[loud heartbeats]

[elevator doors squeak open]

[loud heartbeats]

[engine revving]

No, no, no, no, no.

Susan!

[engine revving]

Susan! [grunts]

- SUSAN: Oh!
- [thuds, clattering]

[score abates]

[sharp exhales]

[score intensifies]

[grunts]

(whisper) What? [gasping]

(sobbing) No!

[Susan gasps, breathes hard]

It's going to be okay, Tag.

Your hair...

smells really nice.

[soft laugh]

[tender score]

Oh, Tag. No.

[sobs] No.

[sniffles]

- [score fades out]
- [closing credit theme]