All language subtitles for interview.with.the.vampire.s01e07.repack.1080p.web.h264-glhf.eng

You go ahead.
Have your fun.

my companion.

If you're going
to beat Lestat..

This is not a life!

You took my life!

...you have to think
like he does

and then five moves
ahead of that.

She is poisoning Louis
against me.

Kill Antoinette.

We're his slaves,
and I shall free us both.

You have won.

You want to kill him, too.

Finish the game!

We were going to
kill Lestat.

So...

question.

Can an immortal meet
mortality?

Technically, yes.

How?

Several ways.

Starvation.

Deny the body the blood.

Conversely, drink the blood
of the dead.

He told me as much my first
night reborn.

Then, there's fire.

Consume the body with fire
and it can house no spirit.

Decapitation.

He confided that to me
one blood-drunken night

in Baton Rouge.

Theoretically, it can be done.

But could it be done by us
to him?

Could the children murder
the father?

He was stronger than us,
quicker than us,

in possession of ancient powers

that had been passed on to
his progeny

only in a diminished form.

Add to the toxic air a new
ever-present paranoia,

and now, you are with us.

We were compelled to sleep

in the same chamber together
again.

He would have it no other way.

We would spend our
hours enduring,

with little pretense of
getting along,

locked together in hatred.

He would have it no other way.

Our only opportunity to
plot would be telepathically.

And Claudia, for reasons she
would not yet divulge,

used our advantage sparingly.

Knowledge is the
ocean's edge.

I mean, to think it could
somehow be gathered

by a mere 20 volumes.

But make no mistake, Claudia
was plotting,

quiet in her deer blind.

A relic before it's even
gone to the print shop.

Aww...

There's three of us you must
provide for tonight.

I've had my fill.

Louis's never honored
the blood as he should.

Blame the teacher,
not the student.

Lestat de Lioncourt.

179 years in the Savage Garden.

148 years the blood-drinker,
the bringer of death...

...the deer come up the trail.

Another approaches.

It's you.

Oh!

Are you the new postman?

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry!

Come to deliver letters
of salvation?

I did... I did not mean
to disturb.

This is a private house,
and we find it disturbing

when things are abandoned
on our doorstep.

You misunderstand.

I... I'm an admirer.
I... I've come seeking help.

Hmm.

Well, you came to the
wrong house.

They say that Satan lives
in this house.

But I say it different.

I say angels...
angels live at 1132.

Does anyone know
you came here?

No. No one, I swear.

I... I live alone, over on Ursuline.

I'm your neighbor.

Well, send Saint Peter
our regards.

"Dear sirs and madam..."

Cancer of the blood.

"What is your secret?
Can it be shared?

I have the means to pay you.
I'm dying.

The medications aren't taking
and my... "

Enough!

Two in one night.

Dolls, Bibles, letters become
torches and pitchforks.

We have to leave this place.

We have to leave New Orleans.

Clean up the mess and
come to coffin.

We have plans to make.

There were plans to make,

but the architect of those plans
was...

Claudia.
Right.

Cold, calculating, on mission.

I... I interrupted.

Uh...
S... Sorry.

I... I got caught up in it.

You were saying?

You already have
your plan, don't you?

I have a plan,
and it's gonna take both of us.

Maybe start by telling me
the plan?

You share a coffin
with him.

I don't talk in my sleep.

You share a heart
with him.

I can cut it off.

No, Louis. You can't.

You spend an hour alone with him

and you're breathing in sync
together.

The plan only works
if he's distracted.

I can pretend.

I used to see this woman, Lily,
just to keep appearances.

I can...
He'll know.

It'll only work if you give in.

Give him all your heart,
and I'll do the rest.

I can't do that.

I'll lose myself in him.

Leave a little shelf
inside there for me.

I'll jump back in and pull you
out before I kill him.

Can you do that for us, Louis?

Louis?

Yeah, I can do it.

It's best to travel light,
I think.

Reduce our valuables
to a few trunks each.

What about Greece?

Cradle of
Western Civilization.

Sun worshipers,
hot springs.

Those who must be kept.

What was that?

Nothing.

Uh, if I know Italians,
they'll be in Santorini

with their guns out
by the end of the year.

No, we must follow the geese
to Buenos Aires.

Bach.
Always back to Bach.

Bach is beyond you.

Yes, the music of the master
race is...

not made for these mongrel ears.

You irritate me.
Your very presence irritates me.

I came to make peace
with you, Uncle Les.

Mm.

Sister, daughter, infant death,
you must think me an idiot.

Could you two please
just...

Hmm.

I've a present for you,
Lestat.

An idea.
Hmm.

An idea of yours?

It must be a small gift, then.

A weak man slips a letter
under his door,

and the glorious vampire Lestat

runs like a rat to his hole.

It's not fear, but wisdom
that guides our departure.

It's heroic that we've lasted
as long as we have.

Agreed, but...

shouldn't we leave on
our own terms?

Shouldn't we mock the city
like we mock our victims?

You have something in
mind, obviously.

Do nothing different,

settle our affairs, prepare to leave,

but on our last night, throw
a party.

We're pariahs,
sister.

No one's coming to a party
thrown by freaks.

Precisely.

It's in the dying man's
letter.

They want to know our secret.

They think we've got the
fountain of youth in here.

They don't know they're
the fountain.

An amusing...

but needful idea.

I guess you're right.

It was just a thought.

The page, Louis.
The page.

In the five years
since Adolf Hitler took command

over a people reduced to
despair

by World War defeat and
its aftermath...

They may be nasty
little beasts,

but they do have excellent
tailoring.

Well-dressed tyrants.

Where have I seen that before?
Hmm...

Well, this idea of yours,

what kind of a party did you
imagine?

A ball.

A lavish, decadent ball.

To what end?
Shh!

We invite the most beautiful,
the most gluttonous,

seduce a choice few for a feast
to remember.

Hmm.

Shh!

Buenos Aires,
as fast as we can.

...and its demigod, Adolf Hitler.

Man #1: Happy New Year!

Keep pushing this party,
he's gonna be on to you.

I want him suspicious.

I welcome it.

You're gonna try to kill him
at this party?

There's no "trying."

Mardi Gras is early this year.

February 6th.

Say it's ridiculous.

That's not how it works.

They plan Mardi Gras balls
a year out,

sometimes years in advance.

Everyone in costume,
everyone drinking,

chaos in the streets
for an easy escape.

It's not worth the risk.

Told you.

Although, if we starved
ourselves for a night

or several nights prior...

...the hunger would be
transcendent.

A meal fit for a king.

It's over!
I'm through with you!

Come on, baby!

Come here.

Whoo!
Fine!

You want the mister
or the missus?

For a king.

We're getting out, Tom.

Out of New Orleans?

But you just got here.

Uh, seeing as it's been 17 years
since we've spoken,

what makes you think I give
a corn-peppered shit?

We'd like to engage
your services, Mr. Anderson.

We wanna throw a
Mardi Gras ball.

Pay our respects to
society before moving on.

Hmm.

Hmm…
Where to start?

Uh, one, I'm not in the
party-planning business.

Two, it's January.

You're a little bit behind the gun.

And three...

This is me and your two-tone
daddies circa 1910.

But can you tell me, little girl,

what's wrong
with this picture?

You didn't have that
funny X on your face back then.

Hmm.

I mean, this is all
good and...

sufficiently creepy.

What do you want?

I want...

to be Raj.

King of Mardi Gras.

Him?

We know you're on
the committee.

Committee of Raj is
a secret and sacred group of citizens...

...bound by honor and tradition.

Get us a price,
get back to us.

These things are
planned years in advance.

Louis, you're a native.

You've expanded
your export business,

shipping coffins from port
back to Europe?

Shipping
and manufacturing.

Double dip.

Good margin, product
in high demand.

You lost one of
your ships recently.

Took a torpedo in the
rear from one of the Fritz's U-boats.

Would you like a new one?

Wait, just one
question before I attempt

your no doubt humiliating and
reputation-destroying ask.

Where do you meet the Devil,

and what are the terms of
the agreement?

The Krewe of Raj had
been three years

in planning their Mardi Gras
theme,

and they abandoned it within
a week

once the Parisian law firm
of Roget and Albert

had transatlantically wired
their bribes.

From the Marais to
the Mississippi,

money flooded the town.

Unavailable vendors became
available.

And the gossip that followed
broke through the levees.

The weird brothers
and their doll-like sister

were coming out.

And the paper ticket to the event

was a brick of gold for
the insatiably curious.

I've chartered us
a plane to Havana.

Three cabins on the SS Dundee
from Havana to Rio,

and two sleeper cars from Rio
to La Reina del Plata.

We'll sell what we no longer
want to Max Simon,

and we'll leave the rest to
the auction house.

We'll need trunks that'll
fit our coffins.

Make sure they have
locks that...

Locks that trigger from
the inside.

It was a masterful month
of preparation.

You aimed at the navel,
seduced the seducer.

By the time we began
our fasting,

Lestat would have told you
the entire endeavor

had been his idea to begin with.

When is it?

Yeah.

Yes.

We'll go without the blood
for three nights preceding the ball.

At the ball, Louis and
I will be following your leering eye.

Maybe pluck one or two
for ourselves.

We'll ask them if they wanna
be young forever.

And if they say yes, we'll pin
them with one of these.

Hmm.
Amaranth.

Perfection.

We'll invite them to
our home,

we will lock the doors, shutter
the windows, and...

And let the flesh
instruct the mind.

Let the flesh instruct the mind.

Let the flesh instruct the mind.

So, fire?
Behead the bastard?

She wouldn't tell me
at the time,

as I was slipping back into
old feelings,

as she said I would.

Laudanum and arsenic.

But I would know soon enough.

Thank you.

Poison the bait was the game.

Make it appear as if the flesh
was drunk

when, in fact, his victim's
veins were swollen

with a paralyzing brew of
laudanum and arsenic.

Claudia could taste her freedom,

suffered the hunger with a cold joy,

matched only by the sun-hot ego
of the vampire king.

And
here comes the Krewe of Raj!

All hail to the Realm of Raj!

Is that a baby?

The ball that followed was
an assault of the senses,

an extravagant waste of money.

And while Lestat's poor taste
on the float

drove away almost every member
of the Raj Committee,

there was plenty of bait to
choose from.

The blood was everywhere.

The veins and arteries
of a few hundred hearts

ringing out like air raid sirens,

drowning out the rhythm section
of the hired band.

I followed Claudia's lead as
best I could,

scouting the rooms for
varietals of death.

Would you like to
know the secret of immortality?

Well, of course, my dear.

Who wouldn't?

Good seeing you out of
uniform, Chief Bardin.

I think you've mistaken
me... Pardon me.

I saw your mask in the bathroom.

I won't deny, won't confirm.

You are a man who appreciates
power.

Tell me more, Mr. du Lac.

You have been missed

in the Lower Garden,
Mr. Lioncourt.

We heard you'd been
ill all these years.

Pardon me, madams, is
there a history between us?

Uh, the Women's
Opera Society.

Prytania Street?

Well, it has been
over a decade.

Of course. Yes.

You don't appear ill.

Rumors, envy.

Oh.

Now, which one of you did I
pull under the stairs

during that dull lecture on
Don Giovanni?

That would be me.

And that was my late husband
giving the lecture.

And did he talk himself
to death?

Oh.

Your Majesty, I'd like
to introduce you

to the MacPhail brothers,
Matthew and his brother Mark.

Well...

And where are Luke and John?

Is there rosemary in
your garden?

Uh, yeah...
just below the porch.

Our mother planted a whole
bushel this past summer.

Did she?

The king finds himself
suddenly famished.

Would you excuse me?

A cascade of feelings
came over me

as I watched him sponge up
the adoration.

I wanted him dead.

I wanted him all to myself.

The fasting was a mistake.

I wasn't thinking clearly.

Something was off.

You miserable dog.

What about a dog?

What dog?

You just said something
about a dog.

I said no such thing.

I see you
Louis du Lac.

There's another one.

You're just hungry, Louis.

You heard what I
said just now, didn't you?

It's the dome.

The architect that built this place
made the US Capitol.

Mm-hmm.

He made it so you could hear
the sniping

and whatnot across the way.

Calls it a "whispering gallery."

‘cos

how you heard me over
the band... pfft!

It's got to be one of those tricks

that you and your fag pederast
satanic trio

got in your pocket.

It's a hell of a party!

you know the secret
to immortality?

Never get married.

That's a good joke.

And now that you have your boat...

...don't you want more?

The king's hair has
betrayed the king.

Hmm.

Was that a witticism from the
Duke of Gloom himself?

Hunger's got me light-headed.

I'm going to miss
this place.

There's not an inch of this city
that wasn't built

from the fierce wilderness
that surrounds it.

Hurricanes, floods, fevers.

The damp climate on every
painted sign,

every stone facade.

High windows,

through which enameled bits
of civilization glitter.

Silhouettes emerging, wandering
out to catch

a silent flash of lightning.

The silky warmth of summer rain.

Desperately alive...

...and desperately fragile.

The hunger has me too,
it seems.

The boutonnieres have
all been given out.

We're ready when you are.

A last dance before the feast.

I'd like that.

I'd like that very much.

So much would be written
aboutthat grim night in New Orleans,

but not a single mention of our
last hour at Latrobe's,

as if the only crime unfit to print

took place on that dance floor.

It was my sole duty to distract
Lestat,

but in his mirrored eyes,

the distraction reflected
back onto me.

And in the dead center of the
whispering gallery,

I lost the thread to my plotting

and fell once more into the well
with no bottom.

I was his, and he was mine.

May I finish this dance?

If he'll have you, sister.

We shouldn't do this.

Too late. I've done it
already.

When? Who?

Just now. One of the twins.

He'll be dead on his feet
in an hour.

Ah! Wake up!

In the 14th century,

in the third arrondissement
of Paris,

on the Rue de Montmorency,
there lived a seller of books,

who found, in an otherwise
regretful purchase

at a private library,
a twenty-page manuscript

written in a text he could not
decipher.

So, he traveled to Spain to have
it translated.

And on his way...

he met a Jewish
converso who told him

he was in possession of the Book
of Abramelin the Mage.

all pretty drunk here,
Lestat.

The bookseller dedicated
the rest of his life

to reproducing the alchemy
within that book,

and one in particular sits
before you all now.

That's what's in the punch bowl?

Amrit Ras, Chasma-i-Kausar,

the Philosopher's Stone,

the elixir of life.

I drank it as a young man...

...and I recently passed its
powers to my friends here.

Claudia, born 1903.

I drank the water in 1917.

I'm 36 years old.

Louis de Pointe Du Lac,
born in 1878.

I drank of the water in 1910.

I am 61 years old now.

Lestat de Lioncourt, born 1760.

I drank the waters in 1794.

180 years old...

this coming November.

Give me that ladle!

Pfft! Ah!

The bucket's got a hole in it.

It's empty!

Not for long, Tom.

No, stay back!

Let's go! Let's go!

It's locked!

We gotta go!

Go to the stairs!
No!

Please...
I don't wanna die.

No, no, no!
Get up! Get up! Get up!

No, no, no, no, no!

Help! Someone help!

No. You don't have to do this.
Please, don't do this.

Shh, shh, shh.
You don't have to... No, please.

No, no, no, no, no!
No, get up!

Oh, dear.

You broke up the pair.

I know you wanted them
both, but Louis couldn't resist.

I'm sorry, my love.

I saved one of for you.

Huh.

Did you?

How generous of you.

Mm.

Ah.

Quite drunk, this one.

Rosemary...

...and something else.

What is it, my love?

I... I think it's the gin.

I wasn't talking to you.

Laudanum.

Arsenic.

She was at the ball tonight.

Like one of those girls on
the telephone switchboard...

...eavesdropping in on things
that she shouldn't.

"Too late.
I've done it already."

"When? Who?"

"Just now. One of
the twins.

He'll be dead on his feet
in an hour."

She should never have
been made, Louis.

Look what she did to us.

She's corrupted everything.

Antoinette will be much
more agreeable to our life together.

Lestat...

...you must think me an idiot.

"She was at the ball
tonight."

Not just the ball.

Laudanum and arsenic.

You're gonna try
to kill him at this party?

There's no "trying."

I have a plan, and it's gonna
take both of us.

The train's leaving in an hour.

Get off that bench.

You shoulda let that train go,
Uncle Les.

How? Who?

He who called you...

"him."
Him?

Always the petty slights with
you, Uncle Les.

Have your goodbye.

Louis.

Louis!

Louis.

Louis.

We are joined by a cord,
by a cord that you cannot see,

but it is real.

It is real.

I have loved you...

...with all myself.

I'm happy it was you...

here with me...

The blood poured
out of him

as it might never pour
from a human being...

...all the blood he had
filled himself with.

He lay now on his back,

his eyes staring wildly at
the ceiling,

the irises dancing from side to side.

"Mets-moi dans mon cercueil,
Louis, Louis."

"Put me in my coffin,
Louis, Louis."

His irises rolled to the top
of his head.

The whites of his eyes
went dim.

This horror that had been Lestat...

...I stared helplessly at it.

The thing lay still.

There was no point in lingering.

The house on Rue Royale
would soon become the focus

of all too many questions.

For the very last time
in New Orleans,

we followed our training

and cleaned up the evidence
of our most elaborate kill.

Well, almost.

We need to burn him.

I've killed so many,
j... just...

no one I...

I don't know if I can.

Just load him in...

like he's one of them.

It was as if we'd expected
Lestat to disappear

in a puff of smoke,
or get sucked back into hell.

So, what did you do
with it?

We wrapped him
in a carpet.

We threw him in a trunk,

and left him out with the
garbage.

We got in our car and drove
away,

headed straight for the port.

The boat for Havana?

Another boat.

A merchant vessel,

newly christened and headed
for Europe.

The boat you bought Anderson,

a shipload of coffins for cargo.

Plenty of cover for a couple of
stowaways,

ready to begin the adventure
of our lives.

Well...

isn't that neat and tidy?

There was a ship.
We did get on it.

Yeah, I read that, the
first 50 pages.

Not exactly the, uh,

adventure-of-our-lives
feeling I'm feeling.

It was a traumatic escape.

Yeah, but she didn't
say that explicitly.

I mean, maybe in some of
the pages that got torn out.

Well, not torn out, exactly.

More like with a ruler.

But, um...
there's a feeling

that she hated your guts
there for a while.

Why is that?

I was haunted by
my brother's death,

by the abandonment
of my sister,

by the murder of Lestat,
I...

Murder?
What murder?

It was an act of mercy.

You didn't kill Lestat.

You spared him, out of some
fucked-up idea

you had about love.

Love?

I bled him like a pig and waited
for the death rattle.

You were shot point-blank
by an alderman.

You were dropped a thousand feet
and survived.

You torched Antoinette
just to make sure.

Where does the trash go,
Louis?

You take the trash down
to the street

and some guys show up
in a truck

and they throw it
in the back,

and then, they drive it

out to the middle of
nowhere, right?

No.

They take the trash to the dump.

And having lived two blocks
away from the dump

just outside of Fishkill,
New York, with my first wife,

I can state, with authority,
what else you'll find there.

Rats.

Big fuckin’ rats, the size
of Kevin Durant's sneakers.

Enough blood in them
to bring back the dead.

Especially one in a trunk
with locks on the inside.

You knew it, Louis.

You had to.

The biggest rat-eater of them all.

This session is over.

How many days in the
Islamic year?

How many names are there
for Allah?

355, and 99.

Why does a 200-pound bouncer
pass out after he sucks him off,

and you, a wet T-shirt away
from 130, doesn't even blink?

I couldn't burn him.

But Claudia could.

No, she couldn't.

She stuck a pen in his neck.

She recorded his last words
in his own blood.

The girl did not have a fuckin’
problem

tossing him on the grill, okay?

The sun's comin’ up.
No.

We have to burn him.
No.

It's the only way we'll know!

No!

I said no!

Was it raining, Louis?

She couldn't burn him.

You cursed her into the darkness.

You chose Lestat over
her, time and time again.

You don't need a memoir, Louis.

You need a hundred sessions
of EMDR.

You know, the shit they put
soldiers through

when they see one of their
platoon buddies

get blown up in front of them?

You've only heard
half the story.

Stop.

144 years of life,

and you're still Louis the Pimp,

paying a whore to sit in a room
and talk with you.

‘cos why?
You got some story

you wanna tell the whole world
about yourself?

When you hear it,
you'll be ashamed,

ashamed of what you say
to him now.

Please stop, Rashid.

Ten million dollars.
That's my whore number.

Career's been over for years.

Legacy?

That's for board members and
assholes in loafers.

My daughters aren't even
speaking to me anymore,

so at least I can leave them
some cash.

But an honest reckoning?
No.

This is the same shit that
happened in San Francisco.

Not exactly.

How is it any different,
Louis?

This time, I won't save
your life.

Louis can sometimes act out.

I protect him from himself,
always have.

Stopped him that night in
San Francisco.

You were there.

You don't remember,
do you?

No, I don't remember.

What was that you said
about memory?

"A monster," was it?

But I saw you standing
in the sun.

As we age, the sun loses its
power over us.

What's a mediocre star to a
514-year-old vampire?

Daniel Malloy...

...I'd like you to meet

the vampire Armand.

The love of my life.

If you are really quick
it can be done,

but could it be done by us
to him?

Could the children murder
their father?

Episode 7,
"The Thing Lay Still."

We were promised the death
of Lestat,

and so we must kill Lestat.

Slowly, Claudia makes a pitch.

I have a plan, and
it's gonna take both of us.

And she has to take
the lead because Louis

is too close to Lestat and
at this point too weak.

The plan only works if
he's distracted.

She does what any good
plotter does.

She makes it ultimately turn out
to make Lestat think

that it's his idea.

If we starved ourselves for a
night or several nights prior,

the hunger
would be transcendent.

A meal fit for a king.

To get Lestat
at his most egoistical

and his most blinded,
yes, maybe then

I will buy this idea
to lets go out with a bang.

Let's not be these hiding,
shrieking vampires.

Let's leave rooms full of bodies
and get on out

on the last train.

But Louis, you got to open
your heart back up to him.

That is the thing that will
blind Lestat more than anything.

A last dance
before the feast.

It is the swooning heights
of the uber romanticism

of ours is this dance in front
of everybody and this kiss.

Lestat cannot help himself.

He's so in love with Louis.

But in the middle of the party,

we are picking our victims out.

We're gonna have the great feast

of our life,
so it can't just be one victim.

It's gonna be like one of these
horrible tasting menus

where we're just gonna gather up
all these people

that know we have
the fountain of youth

and come back to our
after party.

Would you like to know
the secret of immortality?

Well, of course, my dear.
Who wouldn't?

There they are, but they are
there only as the grand plan,

get Lestat looking this way
and now we have

a little bit of fun.

Give me that ladle.

It's empty.

Not for long, Tom.

Most of them are sort
of the ugly ones

that we have seen
throughout the show,

but then, look at the twins.

We all know the books.

Go to the twins,
go to the twins.

You broke up the pair.

I know you wanted them both,
but Louis couldn't resist.

I'm sorry, my love.

And then there's this mysterious
man in the tuxedo.

What is that all about? Very
strange little detail there.

And, you know,
you guys are all savvy.

You know something's
not right here.

I can't be that easy, until you
had that reverse line.

I've always known Antoinette
was out there.

So, if you played everybody's
sort of arcs,

no one quite knew everything.

How? Who?

Jones: Claudia knew
that eventually

if we put Tom Anderson in there,
make him drink

poison blood,
he would go after Tom Anderson.

He who called you him.

Him?

They don't quite know totally
how to kill a vampire,

but they think
that'll do the job.

Always the petty sights
with you, Uncle Les.

Back to Dubai, Molloy
starts asking questions

and some very probing questions.

What actually did happen
that night?

So, what did you do with it?

It's very, very simple.

What you're supposed to do
is you're supposed

to clean up your dead.

You're supposed
to put the vampire

in the incinerator.

Why didn't you do it?

There's a feeling
that she hated

your guts there for a while.
Why is that?

The girl did not
have a fucking problem

tossing him on the grill,
okay?

The sun's coming up.
No.

We have to burn him.
No.

It's the only way
we'll know.

No!

I said no!

And I think Louis
is remembering that

for the first time
in a long time.

You've only heard half the story.
Stop.

This is the same shit that
happened in San Francisco.

Jones: It forces the vampire
Armand to jump in.

This time
I won't save your life.

Louis can sometimes act out.

I protect him from himself.

Jones: It's not, I think,
just to protect Louis

from maybe going ape shit
and killing Molloy.

I think there is a story
that has been told to Louis

that Louis has told
to himself that maybe

Armand has told to him, too.

For those people who have
ever read the book,

this is a major player out
there, folks.

This is the leader of a coven
of vampires

and one who is very, very
powerful.

So, yeah, that last line,
we were sort of looking for

like the ending to the graduate,
this sort of very

unsettling wait, what?

I'd like you to meet...

the vampire Armand.

The love of my life.

And I think it really sets us up for

a very provocative season 2.