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Tamra is a legend.

Yeah, yeah, she's had two
hitless albums back-to-back,

but someone else's take
isn't the ticket.

We need hers.

We need someone who can
get her to actually open up

and be honest.

Somebody who can get her to
say something brutal or cocky,

whatever it actually is.

What does she still want
from music?

What does she still think was,

you know, missing
from that last project?

The only thing a story about a legend
like Tamra Camden is missing

is as much Tamra Camden
as possible.

Damn good point, Ariel.

I'd read that.

Thank you.

Uh, I mean,
I would love to maybe--

What about Chris Wreath
to write it?

I mean, he would be
inspired, right?

Yeah, strong agree.
I'll send him a note.

Done.

Okay. Good job.

Moving on.

On to the M.O.B.

It's just driving me
fucking nuts.

I've been there
for three years.

Three years of my life,

and I haven't written
a single real story.

- Yes, you have.
- No, I haven't.

What are you talking about?

I loved that piece on that,
uh... What was it?

Blind martial arts instructor.

- Oh, yeah, okay.
- How'd he do that three-finger thing?

- Oh. Like...
- It was like...

- Wow, you look cute today.
- Stop.

- Okay.
- Okay.

This is how I see it.

Step one,

write about famous people

because they're
inherently fascinating.

That's where I'm at right now.

- Step two...
- "Famous people."

Okay. Step two,

people start
to find me fascinating

'cause I'm writing
about fascinating people.

And then, three,

take that goodwill and

use it to write whatever
the fuck I want.

What's the...

what's the end goal
of all that, though?

Like, what's the point?

- Write a book. Like...
- Mmm.

Books, plural.

Then, show people that...

I don't know...

that I'm a good fucking writer.

Show them what I... I think

and... and...
and feel, love, hate.

But at this rate,
I'll be, like, 35

before that ever happens,
which is basically 40.

Sorry, no offense.

Whoa, hold up. I'm...
I... I'm only 32.

- What the hell?
- I'm like... I rounded up.

- That's wack.
- That's my fault.

- I... I rounded up.
- Okay, also,

is this one of those vents
where you just need to vent

or one of the rare vents where
you actually want advice?

Wow. Okay.

The former. Right.

Can you pass me the...

I am open.

I will take advice. I'm open.

- For real?
- Yeah, for real.

Okay.

Well, with love and compassion,

I don't think anyone gives
a fuck about what you feel

or love or hate.

Listen,
you're only 27 years old.

You didn't grow up poor or rich.

You have a good job,
a perfect bill of health.

No addictions, no enemies.

Hell, you've never let
anyone in close enough,

present company included,
to actually break your heart.

And your parents are perfect, which is
why you always shit on my mom.

No, I always shit on your mom
'cause she's fucking crazy.

Your problem is that
you're middle.

Which is okay. Most people are.

But it's experience
that gives people perspective,

and it's perspective
that gives opinions their value,

and yours is...

it's middle as fuck.

Okay.

This eel is delicious,
by the way.

Yeah, it's really good.
No, it's really, really good.

Are you okay?

'Cause I could...
I could take that back.

The eel is really good.

So...

I mean,
now is the time, then.

But why?
Why is now the time?

I mean, all
the pictures are dropping in.

Like, do you think he had
a ton of work done to his face?

Probably, but I'm calling
bullshit on the whole thing.

What's up?

There's a rumor flying around
that Moretti's back.

Like, "Moretti" Moretti?
Oh, shit.

I know. It's a big day for me.

Dina Simone
was my first ringtone.

Dina Simone was everyone's
first ringtone.

Well, don't be a dick.

Ooh, Stan.

You hear?

Moretti's back.

- Oh, my God. You, too?
- I...

Are we done? Huh?

I mean, if social media wants
to freak out over every rumor,

so be it, but you guys
are supposed to be journalists.

Besides, no one
has seen or heard from Moretti

in 30 years.

If there was an album,

I am sure they'd release it
the same way he always did.

Uh, his publicist,
Soledad Yusef,

would mail in a VHS of him

nonsensically just rattling off
Moretti's career highlights

and proclaiming that
a new album was on the way.

It was nauseating.

- Look at this.
- What's this?

Hello, my loves.

Hello.

Holy shit,
that's actually him.

It's been a long time
since we've done this dance.

But I think this dance we do
is a timeless one. Don't you?

A lot has changed
in the last 27 years.

Oh, my God.

Can you believe
it's been 27 years?

Look at me.

I'm like a silver fox.

Okay. I'm having too much fun.

Enough about me.

What about him? What about him?

Mr. Glam-boyant himself.

The Velvet Caller. Don Diva.

The Wizard of Wiggle.

The icon responsible for
the highest-grossing world tour in history.

The only living artist to
secure 38 number one singles.

Yes. Yes.

It is with... Ooh!

Unmitigated joy that I announce to you, my babies,

he's bringing you a gift.

The greatest album
of modern times.

Future times,
all the times, really.

And, in typical
Debutante fashion,

he'll be playing for a select
group of people this weekend

before he gives this
new blessing unto the world.

And there is more to come.

So much more.

...Alfred Moretti.

Oh, shit.

He's back, my babies.

Ugh. Classic.

Truly a perfect album,

up there with Thriller,
Hotel California, Nebraska.

There's a second one.

This is for, uh...

Ariel Ecton.

- Who?
- Seriously?

So, what do
you think of the news of Moretti

coming out of retirement?

Oh, my gosh,
I mean, it feels like a dream,

you know? I used to listen
to him all the time as a kid,

and now my kids
get their own Moretti album.

And you, sir?

Moretti sleeps 12 hours a day,

and then stands 12 hours a day.

Like, it's
a "balance of life" thing.

This is my favorite rumor
about this guy.

Somebody's trying to suggest
that he bought Freddie Mercury's teeth.

- And he might--
- Today's top story,

Alfred Moretti,
arguably the biggest

pop star of the '90s,

has resurfaced
after a 30-year hiat...

Smell that desert air.

Oh, yeah, it's amazing.

- Right? Oh.
- Hello.

- Hello. Oh, okay. Okay.
- Oh.

Ms. Ecton. Mr. Sullivan.

Welcome to Green River, Utah.

It'll be an absolute honor

to spend this weekend with you.

- Thank you.
- Yeah.

Namaste.

The other guests
are waiting just this way.

Please follow me

as we board the infamous Louise.

Holy shit.

Slow Lo.

So, uh, rumor had it
that when Moretti toured,

his outfits were
so damn heavy that the--

Yeah, they would weigh the bus
down, and they would have to,

uh, stop to fuel twice as much
'cause it was so slow and low.

- Hence the name.
- Yeah.

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

I just...
I did a little research.

No, that's impressive.
That's really impressive.

- Thanks.
- Yeah. Nice job, rookie.

Okay.

Well, lookie here.

Hey. Long time, huh?

Hey.

Oh, everybody, uh, meet Ariel.

Some young blood from
the magazine tagging along.

- Hi.
- This is Clara,

who you know of, I'm sure.

And, of course, Bianca Tyson,
the top paparazza in the game.

Stan.

- Clara. Clara.
- Stan.

Stan.

I see you, uh,

took a break from being

the most hated sex symbol on TV
to join us.

Key words, "sex symbol..."

Thank you... And "TV."

How's print media treating you?

Oh.

Nice to meet you, dear.

Oh, nice to meet you.

I'm not sure
who that is.

That is Emily Katz.

- She's an influencer.
- Oh, Lord help us.

Wait, sorry.
Is she talking to Bill Lotto?

Oh, I know, right?

You'd think some of the sheen

would wear off after
he pivoted to podcasts.

I'm surprised he even came,
to be honest.

What do you mean? Why would
he miss the event of the century?

They hated each other.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we are about to depart

on our four-hour-and-eight-minute journey.

Please feel free to luxuriate
until our arrival.

Thank you.

Oh, my God. Cindy Crawford
is such a legend.

She's my favorite
of his girlfriends.

Oh, that is sexy.

What are they doing?

Stan, have you been
reading this?

Hmm?

Oh, it's from the basket, right?

I haven't. What's the haps?

I mean, the haps are very,
uh, specific. They...

Hey, so this is a good time
to establish our game plan.

Oh. Yeah.

Okay. Yes, actually.

I was, uh, writing
some stuff down earlier.

- Great.
- Yeah.

So, you know, obviously,

I'll be the one who writes
the review and the piece,

but what I could really use
your help with is some note-taking.

Okay. Yeah, um, I... I would...

- You know, I could share--

- Nah, just the note-taking.
Anything you see.

Weird books or, uh,

I don't know, orgies, whatever.

Just, uh, write it down,

and I'll give it a look at the end
of the weekend. Got it?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

You know, I'm...
I'm really happy for you.

Who are these people?

Moretti diehards.

They've been congregating
since the announcement.

I even heard a few have been
sleeping in their cars.

All hoping to get
a glimpse of him.

Some people really need a hobby.

I love you!

Oh, thanks, honey.

I mean, had to wear
the boots, right?

- Right this way.
- They look perfect.

- Thanks.
- Oh, my goodness.

Welcome.

Before you head to your
respective rooms to freshen up,

to ensure the integrity of this event,
deposit your cell phones here.

We will return them Sunday
after your experience is over.

No problem.

Thank you.

Hey.

Ms. Katz.

Thank you.

This is a gift.

- Oh.
- Thank you.

Welcome, Ms. Ecton.

It's beautiful.

- Ariel.
- I'm gonna put this by my Emmy.

Okay.

Over the years,
my concerts attracted

a, uh, veritable who's who

of the revered
and the beatified.

And after every show,
it was customary

for me to invite some of them
backstage to my green room

to take photos
and exchange pleasantries.

And, one night,
I had the unbelievable honor

to welcome both Chuck Norris
and Muhammad Ali.

And as is always the case

when two alpha males enter
the same space,

a competition ensued.

And soon enough,
Chuck Norris stood up

and announced that his hands
were so fast

that he could chop
a mosquito in half.

And just as he had finished
that sentence...

Hi-ya!

I looked down at the floor,
and sure enough,

there's a mosquito
chopped in half.

Ali doesn't skip a beat.

He stands up,

goes to the center of the room,

kind of leans back a bit.

Double-jabs it.

I look down on the floor,

and there is a mosquito

chopped into four tiny bits.

The entire room applauds.

But Chuck Norris, very
determined, does not give up.

He reclaims
the center of the room.

Locates one, and then...

I look down, and sure enough,
there lay a little bloodsucker

cut into six tiny portions.

And Ali, cool as a cucumber,
he stands,

scouring the room,
locates a mosquito.

Whack.

I look up, and that mosquito
is still airborne.

I say, "Ali, champ,

"that mosquito is still
flying around."

Ali turns back to me,
and he says,

"Yeah, he's still flying around,

"but he'll never have children."

And so,

let me be the first
to congratulate all of you

on being the first to hear

my 18th studio album,
Caesar's Request.

Let's dine, shall we?

- Hi. It's so nice to finally meet you.
- Pleasure.

- It's good to see you.
- You, too.

- Alfred.
- Young man.

- Mmm.
- Pleasure.

I'd like to start off
by saying...

- Water under the bridge.
- Exactly.

You look good, man.

You look good, too.
Not as good as me.

- Oh.
- Thanks, Ariel.

Hey. I heard
you're from New York City.

- Is that true?
- Uh, yes, it is true.

That's so cool.

- Thanks.
- I like your hair.

I like your hair, too.

Uh, my name's Ariel.

Nice to meet you, Ariel.

- I'm Maude.
- Nice to meet you, Maude.

Would you like to sit
with me, Ariel?

Yes.

Yes, I would.

Now a toast, if I may.

Because this, my old friend,
does not happen anymore.

This, we have missed,
as we have missed you.

Guys, this is my friend Ariel.

We're honored
to be here with you.

Hi. How are you? I'm Joel.

- Nice to meet you.
- To Alfred.

Alfred.

Hey. First Roll.

First Roll.

Take a bite and pass it across.

There you go.

Whoa.
You're like a panther.

Are we gonna get
to see you dance this weekend?

Don't fret, my dear.
I'm still uncoordinated.

Come on, Clara.

What?
Nobody moves like Moretti.

Oh. Thank you.

But it's a pretty one.

Indeed it is.

Yeah. Thought so.

Jorg, right?

Ariel Ecton.

This is amazing.

Um...

Full disclosure,
I'm a journalist here,

and we might be writing a piece

just about how amazing
all this is,

and, um, I just wanted to get, like,
a little bit of background color,

if you're comfortable
talking to me a little.

I used to teach music

at Harden High School
in Charlotte.

One semester, I picked
my favorite musician...

The Wizard of Wiggle himself,

to be the primary focus
for the kids.

One day,
I'm teaching second period

when I get a phone call

saying that Moretti
wanted to meet me.

And at first, I thought
it was a prank, you know?

- Mmm.
- Of course.

No one had seen Moretti
in almost ten years.

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

And then...

he got on the phone...

and that voice is...

...unmistakable.

Like, this ain't no prank.

That's the motherfucking
Debutante himself.

Wait, so...

Moretti just, like,
called you out of the blue?

He told me not to tell anyone.

Did he say
what he wanted or... or...

What?

No need. No.

I didn't even tell my job.

No call, no show.

I... I was on a plane
the next morning.

And now, I teach music theory
to the children.

Like, uh, you know,
little Maudey there.

And John here, uh,
teaches phys ed,

like, uh, oh, like, uh,
track and archery.

"Teach them young,
and the world will be yours."

That's from the book,
right? The...

the... the blue one that's...

- Meditations of Level.
- Yeah.

Is that, um...

Sorry, I don't... I don't know
how else to ask that.

Are you...

- you guys...
- We're Levelists.

What do you, uh...

What is that, I guess,
to you or...

you all?

"The one and only holistic path

"to prevent the obstruction
of creativity

"and ensure the protection of those
divinely burdened to wield it."

Doesn't "sycophant" have an "O"?

Probably, yeah. Um...

- Hi.
- Alfred Moretti.

Ariel Ecton.

Indeed you are.

I was shocked to get the invite,

but I'm truly honored
and thrilled

to get to be here this weekend.

I hope so.

Don't forget the "O."

- Right. Yeah.
- Rest well.

You, too.

Congratulations,
and welcome again

to this once-in-a-lifetime
gathering.

For your comfort,
we have assigned each of you

a 24-7 concierge.

If there are any accommodations
that you may desire,

please do not hesitate
to ask them.

None too big, none too small.

Your concierge is here for you.

Holy shit,
the Moretti Museum.

I can't believe it's real.

Oh, the kids are doing
a puppet show.

I love puppet shows.

This song is titled

Tomorrow, my love.

Please enjoy.

Hmm?

- Ow!
- There we go. Go.

Hey, what are you doing?

Go ahead.

What are... No, let go of me!

That's it.

Morning.

Good morning.

Can I get you anything?

No. I was just gonna
go for a jog.

I can go for a jog, right?

Morning.

Morning.

How are you finding
everything so far?

Good. Yeah.

How was your morning jog?

It was good.

I, um... I feel bad, though.

My concierge had to jog
with me the whole time.

You guys really go above and
beyond with the service here.

Oh, that's the only thing
you find above and beyond?

The service?

Yeah. Um...

I mean, the song was amazing.

Like, genuinely. It was...

gorgeous and haunting
and kind of funny.

Funny? How?

It's just not really how
I picture your heart, I guess.

How did you picture my heart?

Um...

I...

Like Teflon,

glitter-glazed and reinforced

with a shit ton of cash
and applause.

Pardon my French.

Well, don't stop Frenching

on my account, dear. Sit.

Um...

Really, though, I just...

I found it really impressive.

Thank you.

You're able to sing about all
that like it was yesterday, and...

it was really kind of comforting

that you hadn't lost a step.

Thank you. Well, yes,
that would be a bummer.

Yeah,
that'd be a huge bummer.

Hi, Ariel.

Um...

not to get all
Anderson Cooper on you

- first thing in the morning...
- Mmm-hmm.

...but, um, this place,
this, um...

religion, Level...

...how long ago was it
since you founded it?

Oh.

Oh, no. I didn't create it.

You think I wrote all that?

No, I'm just a simple songman.

It existed long before me.

But you are a member?

Yes, I'm very committed to it.

What is it that you guys do?

What do you mean, what do we do?

I mean, all religions
do something.

Catholics go to Mass.

They drink the blood of Christ.

Muslims, uh, pray towards Mecca.

You know, they...
they do things.

All religions have things
that they do together.

Um, then what do you call a group
that does nothing together?

Congress.

Actually, you know what?

There... there is...

one thing we... we all do.

Would you like to see?

Yeah.

Sorry about the odor.

I wish that I could say
you get used to it,

but you don't.

Now, this believer is engaged

in a process we call Diving.

That's something
we're all called to do.

"We all," including yourself?

Absolutely.

So, you eat them?

For necklaces,
we source only natural pearls,

so that means
we're obligated to open

oyster after oyster after oyster

before we find one
with a pearl in it.

Well, in a hundred oysters,

how often do you find a pearl?

Not all that often,
but distilling it

into a chore of numbers
is beside the point.

Well, what's the point, then?

Oh, damn.

We should probably...

leave him to it,
let him concentrate.

Um...

forgive me if I'm missing
something, but...

what...

What's the point
of that, exactly?

Well, the Meditations of Level

teaches us that the worth
of a single pearl

surpasses the value
of all empty shells

and that balance, true balance,

exists not in the notion
that all things are equal

but in the realization

that all things are not...

equal.

True balance?

Yes.

Like someone who would sleep
12 hours a day

and stay up for 12 hours,
for example.

Hmm.

Did you really buy and wear
Freddie Mercury's teeth?

Okay.

Hi.

Oh, hello.

It's so great
to finally meet you, Ariel.

Uh, it's nice
to meet you, too...

Rachel.

- Okay.
- Okay, um...

Rachel.

- Rachel, hi. Yeah.
- Hi.

What... what is all this?

Here.

Oh, beautiful. Option three,

with the olive foundation, like
we talked about last week, okay?

- Okay.
- Thank you.

No, I... I got
one of these, actually.

Um... just, like, what is this?

Is this, like, the...
the spa experience or...

Right. Okay.

We're gonna make you look
like the best version of you.

Okay. Um...

What number?

Okay. Two dresses.

Let me ask you this.

Uh...

did you receive a call
out of the blue, maybe,

from Moretti a few years ago, and
that's what brought you to this place?

I'm sorry, my dear,
the schedule.

Let us do what we do,

and I promise
you will look and feel

- like a million bucks.
- Yeah. Okay.

Mmm. Mmm.

You have Pam Grier's
bone structure.

- Okay.
- Ooh, truly gorgeous.

Let's not get carried away, now.

Okay.

It's so weird.

You guys do fast work.

It's like, one day
you just look in the mirror

and you're both
of your parents, you're...

Okay, hon.

So, how's the lady garden?

Um...

What?

Your lady garden.

Your cha-cha.

Your vagina, my dear.

When was the last time
you shaved or waxed down there?

Uh, no, yeah,
I... I... I figured.

Um...

I don't know.

Uh, I... I... I don't...

I don't know why
it's any of your business.

It... it has been a... a minute.

That's good. That's good.

Moretti requires
that everyone be unshaven.

But what he actually means
is a full, tidy bush,

emphasis on "tidy."

We all do it, even the men.

Does he have plans to...
to... to see...

I'm sure he doesn't.

I've worked on The Debutante
since before the Cream Crush Tour.

He's had many impressive guests.

Icons, people who had holidays
named after them.

Football players,
Pulitzer Prize winners.

Everyone with 100% certainty
has gone through this process.

Okay, uh, sorry.

So, um, because

some famous, influential people

wanted to... to...
to spend time with Moretti,

they let you,
or whoever else, um...

shave them down there?

Hey, as Moretti always says,

"No one is more of a star fucker

"than the fucking stars."

I mean, has the man ever told
a joke that's actually funny?

- Well...
- Hey.

- Hey.
- Wow, honey.

You look gorgeous.

Doesn't she look gorgeous, Stan?

- No objection here.
- I mean, you guys look amazing.

I love your hair, Clara.

Well, it's a wig.

Yeah, she knows it's a wig,
Stan, you miserable ass.

And they put it on
a little bit too tight,

but other than that,

I think it looks fabulous on me.

It does. This is a look.

Um...

Sorry, did... did...
did your guys's concierges

stay with you all night?

- Yep.
- Yep.

And did they, um...

they shave you down...

- Uh-huh.
- Yeah.

Okay. Cool.

Fucking Moretti.

Yeah.

- Oh, hey.
- Hey.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Ooh. Wow.

- Thank you.
- Wow.

- Bianca, look at this look.
- This is great.

- Stop.
- You look beautiful.

I've never seen you
look like this.

All right.

Shall we head
to the listening room?

Um... we're down one,
though, right?

Oh, yeah. Where is Bill?

Mr. Lotto opted for
a longer massage session.

He'll rejoin the group later.

Typical.

- Asshole.
- He's so indulgent.

I'll only say this,

humanity has been in debt

ever since we found ourselves
on this tiny rock.

Every so often,
there is a Michelangelo

who paints a Sistine Chapel

or a Tina Turner
who covers Proud Mary,

and humanity chips away
at that debt.

Now, I'm not saying this album,

Caesar's Request,

will bring us into the black,

but you can bet your ass
it'll bring us closer to it.

Whoo, whoo.

Can we cut
the music, please?

Honey, are you all right?

Can we get her some water?

It's probably a peanut allergy.

I swear, that entire generation just
woke up one day with a peanut allergy.

It might be the altitude, actually.

Rachel, can we get her
an IV drip, maybe?

And also, check with the kind
folks in the infirmary.

- Maybe give her a once-over.
- Just breathe, Emily.

You're... you're in great
hands with... with Rachel.

Don't worry.
I've had worse reviews.

Maybe let's all go
get some fresh air

and let the music decant
a little bit, shall we?

- Sure.
- Yeah?

Yeah.

Thank you. I'm
honored.

It's just so inspiring.

Hey. You good?

Yeah.
I'm just trying to loosen it.

What's crazier,

the fact that Moretti
has changed his wardrobe

six times in the last two days...

...or that he's still the best
entertainer in the world?

- No, for sure, but--
- Yeah.

This whole thing's a trip, man.

Him, this place, like...

The people here
are weirdly talented

and seem mostly happy.

Yeah.

The scars on the hands, though.

I don't know if I love that.

- Huh. I hadn't noticed.
- Yeah.

Um, you know Stan
pretty well, yeah?

Stan? Yeah.

How apeshit do you think he'd go

if I were to write
a secondary piece,

like, on the Levelists?

Here's the thing,
Stan is an asshole,

but if you have
a real story to tell,

not even he can deny that.

There's something
that unites them.

And I... I'm not quite sure
how to put it, but they...

they're all very different,
but there's something...

It's as if they're all
faces of the one.

Mmm-hm.

Well, you know, Level believes

God is a temporary
state of being

and that divinity
is accessible for all,

but soon fades away.

- Right.
- For... for instance,

when I created the bridge

on Live Without Love...

...uh, in that moment,
I was a god.

- Capital "G" God.
- You were.

But only in the same way the...
the person who, uh,

created the horseshoe thousands
of years ago was a god.

- That is really fascinating, Alfred.
- Mmm.

Do you think that...

that that could be a little
bit alienating, though?

Just seeing as most people can't

and won't ever create something

truly perfect
in their lifetimes?

Actually, we believe
it's the exact opposite.

That anyone can be a god
at any moment.

The opportunity is there
for everyone,

from the boss
to the lowest on the masthead.

Yeah, it makes sense, right?

We are only vessels.

Some of us have the goods,
some of us don't.

Thank you so much.

- So, what's the deal?
How's the note-taking coming?

- Uh... No, it's good. It's good.

- Okay.
- Yeah.

I've been finding a lot
of really fascinating stuff.

- Mmm-hmm.
- I was thinking, you know,

maybe I could write
some sort of secondary...

like, a... a companion piece
to yours.

- Secondary piece?
- Uh, yeah. Secondary, completely secondary.

Just on the Levelists.

Stan.

Be real with me.

This is a cult.

- Well, yeah.
- Or damn well near one.

Like, this is insane.

Yeah. So?

So, I was talking to...
to Jorg last night.

- Mmm-hmm.

The backstories
on the members...

They're all just so fascinating.
I could just do a deep dive--

No, no, no, no.
Let me stop you. Stop, stop.

Let me stop you there.

We are publishing one story.

And you're... you're playing

a... a vital role in it.

But, you know,
any and everything

that's interesting
about this place

will be in my story.

- Okay.
- Plus... plus...

the... the... the weird
groupies in blue,

the fucking vases,

god damn dancing,
none of that matters

because it's about the music.

- That's the story,
you know? I mean...

- Oh, my God. Stan.
- Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Oh, somebody help!

- What happened?
- Have Charlan rush here.

What happened?

- Now!
- Oh, my God. Take it out!

- No!
- Oh, my goodness!

- Just breathe, just breathe.
- What's going on?

It looks like
it only hit his shoulder...

- What the fuck?
- ...but still hurry.

Just breathe,
just breathe, just breathe.

Don't take it out.

- Oh, my God.
- Oh, it's...

I'm so sorry, mister.

It was a mistake with my grip.
It slipped.

Oh, my God.

Yes?

Ariel. Come, have a drink.

Ariel.

We were just saying we...

we should call over to your room
and invite you over.

- We were just saying that.
- And here you are.

There's not a lot left,

but you look like
a lightweight, so...

Oh, I remember when I used
to look like a lightweight.

Well, we all remember
the '80s, Bianca.

- Fuck you.
- Okay.

- Fuck you.
- To Moretti...

...the best entertainer
in the world,

still the greatest of all time.

- No doubt.
- Moretti.

Ariel, what's wrong?

Oh, this better not be about
the fucking article.

I know that.

Stan, is it possible

that what happened to you
wasn't an accident?

- What?
- We're here,

in the middle
of fucking nowhere.

They took our cell phones.
They took our laptops.

We have no way of communicating
with the outside world.

They're surveilling us,
watching us 24/7.

They're probably fucking listening
in to this room somehow.

People are fucking missing.

- Let's not forget about that.
- What?

Are you sure you haven't been drinking with us?

Because this is sounding a little crazy.

- Didn't wanna say it.
- Sorry.

Something is off.

Is this not alarming
to you at all?

Like, is it weird or fucking
strange in the least bit?

It's less odd to me
that Bill Lotto's pretentious ass

thinks that he's too good to listen
to the album with the rest of us

than it is that
the Alfred Moretti

did all of this

to steal our cell phones
or something. I mean, come on.

I don't know
why he fucking did it.

You said that
they hated each other.

Oh, yeah, they hate each other
over something so silly.

Years ago,

Bill gave an interview

where he sort of
made fun of Moretti

for getting his Doberman
stuffed after it died.

- Oh, Tucker.
- That's right.

That's right. Tucker.

Oh. RIP.

And then, of course, Moretti
was shamed a little bit

because everybody thought
it was kind of strange,

- because it's kind of strange.
- Mmm-hmm.

This just doesn't feel
fucking right at all to me.

Okay, and that's why
you're the one just taking notes.

- Okay.
- Just calm... Hold on.

- What is happening?
- I don't know. It's...

The crowd...
the crowd is oh so upset.

Upset that I'm not onstage.

Yeah!

The back row is half asleep.

But the front row
is ready to rage.

Yeah!

The drummer was an hour late.

He was in the back seat
of a groupie's car.

Yeah!

The spotlight just blew out.

But my sarong,
it shines from afar.

Yeah!

The price of the ticket was low.

But we're booked
for another gig.

The microphone
is tiny and cheap.

But it makes my bulge

look big.

Bravo!

Ariel?

I love you all dearly.
I hope to see you soon.

- Whoa.
- Are you... Are you okay?

Don't touch me. Don't touch me.

What's... what's wrong?

Just, wait a minute.

Let me explain, okay?

- I'm leaving.
- Ariel. Ariel.

Ariel!

Ariel.

I need to leave.

Why? What... what happened?
What's wrong?

Uh, where's Bill Lotto?

Najee?

I would assume
he's getting dressed for dinner.

Wait, did Bill
do something to you?

No, just, where is he?

Where's... where's Emily Katz?

I just left her.

She's feeling much better
and will join us

at the children's show.

Oh. Okay.

Ariel, you...

Can't you tell me
exactly what happened?

You seemed just peachy
yesterday.

Um, no, I'm not, uh,
explaining anything.

Just, uh, I want to go.

I'm gonna go.

I am going now. I'm leaving.

I'm sorry, but that simply
isn't possible right now.

A few of the believers took
the Louise into town.

They should be back soon.

Okay, well,
what about one of those?

Those will
get you ten miles.

You'll have to walk
the other 40.

Okay. Well, we have to figure
something out, 'cause I gotta go.

This is the opportunity
of a lifetime.

If you're too ungrateful to--

Jorg.

Can't you see
she's frightened?

And it's obviously something
we did or didn't do,

so I would like to apologize
for that and assure you

that we will get you out of here

as soon as we can
possibly do so.

Najee, when is
the bus returning?

40 minutes, max.
I'll call them now.

In the meanwhile, I want you to
get a hold of Jeff and deal with the plane.

Get it fueled up.

Make sure it's ready to go

the second we get Ariel

to the airport, okay?

- No argument, top priority.
- Yes, sir.

But what about the puppet show?

Well, she...
she has to leave,

so she... she'll miss it
this time.

But we worked so hard, and
you were supposed to sit next to me.

It's not fair.

You know,
maybe we can do this.

If Ariel agrees,

the children's building is
the closest one to the gate,

and she could stay and watch
the show until the bus got here.

If you feel comfortable
with that.

I could see the entrance
from the building?

Like, I could see it?

Cross my heart, hope to die.

Yeah, fine.

- Yes!
- Okay.

Jorg, if you could...

Thank you.

Yeah.

Cute.

All right, children.

Presenting
The Tragedy of Billie.

Okay. I'm
ready.

Lady Day!

Tell us, has the trauma
in your childhood

helped you make
such successful music?

Coming from where I'm from,
to be where I'm at now,

well, I guess that's
a sweet song in itself.

But I wouldn't wish
my childhood on anyone,

- even for success.
- Tell us about prison.

Did you perform any ditties
in the slammer?

Well, I'm no saint.
You already knew that.

And prison sure ain't
full of saints,

but neither is
the rest of the world.

Are you still on smack?

I'm very pleased to announce
that I'm 100% sober as I stand here

and plan to finish my days
exactly that way.

I'm embarrassed and ashamed

of the mistakes
I've made in my past

and ask my fans and family
to forgive me

as best as they can.

I know I'm certainly trying to.

When did the weight gain start?

How do you feel about McKay
blowing your fortune?

Are you flat broke?
Reports say you're flat broke.

Billie, when will we hear
Strange Fruit again?

Do you think a former prostitute
should be a role model?

Billie! Ms. Holiday!

Billie! Ms. Holiday!

Lady Day!

Something moved.
Something moved.

What... what the fuck is that?

- What the fuck?
- Oh, my God.

Jesus.

Is... is this
some kind of joke?

- What?
- Is there some... someone in there?

Oh, fuck. Oh, my God.

What the fuck?

Jesus Christ.

Oh, my God.

Em?

- Oh, my God.
- Time to go, children.

What the fuck
is wrong with her?

Um, I promised
I would be an open book,

and welshing ain't cute.

Well done, kids.

Very... very charming.

Uh, so I'll try and explain.

Whatever chemical compound
she ingested,

uh...

Sorry, science is a bit of
a "blah, blah, blah" to me.

Suffice it to say

that whatever
is wet inside her body

is rapidly expanding.

Is... is that
more or less accurate?

- More or less.
- You see?

Wonders happen
when we follow the science.

Wouldn't you say, dear?

Don't...
What the fuck are you doing?

- Oh, my God. Don't touch her.
- Jesus.

Jesus Christ.

- Jorg, please.
- He's fucking insane.

- A towel.
- Move.

Move, you motherfuckers!

No! Let me go!

Get off of me!

- Nobody leaves!
- I wanna go.

Let me go.

- Stay down.
- Okay.

Fuck! Look at that.

I mean, will you look at that?

Why is it
that waterproof foundation

is never truly waterproof?

Why?

Great question.

And, you know, I...

I must say something,
I'm afraid.

Um...

Many of us here
have worked

very hard to make this
a once-in-a-lifetime event,

and I find that
all of you are being

very, very disruptive.

Excuse... excuse me.

- That's dramatic.
- Let me go.

I just wanna go.

Excuse me. That's dramatic.

Now, may we finally begin
the Q and A

to discuss Caesar's Request?

Hey, hey, hey!

Sit!

Oh, my God.

Oh!

Jesus Christ.

Shut her up!

- Sit her up.
- Intermission is finished.

What the fuck is this?

"What the fuck is this?"

That's what you said?
"What the fuck is this?"

So, the first question

of my first interview
in 30 years is,

"What the fuck is this?"

You know, I... I think
I could do better on my own,

so let's give it a try.

Uh, Mr. Alfred Moretti.

Question mark.

Why did you

name your new album,

like, Caesar's Request?

Thank you for the question.

And thank you, Billie,
for the invite.

Well, it's an insane story.

One day,
while summering on the Cape,

I was engrossed by an account

of the time that
Julius Caesar was kidnapped.

Now, does anyone here
happen to know

who kidnapped Julius Caesar?

Pirates.

Pirates.

From the mouths of babes.

You're absolutely right,
Ariel Ecton.

Now, let me ask you,

uh, do you happen to know
how Julius Caesar responded

once he'd been freed?

He went back with his army.

To do what?

Don't disappoint us, now.

He killed all of his kidnappers.

Um,
he crucified them, actually.

Every single one of them.

No hyperbole,
no foundational myth

about a man walking on water.

Just simple, actual
crucifixion for all of them.

Now tell me, teacher's pet,

on whom I'm about to place
a big, big bet...

what's the best part
of the story?

Um...

Well, the best part

of the story is that

the pirates who kidnapped
the Julius Caesar

thought he was
a commoner.

They thought
they were his equal.

And because
of this misconception,

they asked the same ransom
for Julius Caesar

that they would've asked
for any Joe Schmo Roman.

And this meant that
Caesar was obligated

to demand a raise in his ransom

so that it would be commensurate
with his position.

And what does that tell us?
Well...

It tells us that royalty,

even when at the mercy
of peasants,

is still royalty, doesn't it?

Doesn't it?

Now,
what about that story, kids?

And how about that puppet show?

The Tragedy of Billie.

I think that interview
went rather well.

- Wonderful, wonderful interview.
- No.

Please, please.

- Please let me go.
- Stan.

Please. Please.

No, no, please.

I'm sorry.

Please.

Stan. No.

Belle.

Welcome
to the Rhinestone Chalet,

Moretti's childhood home
turned interactive museum.

Did you know that Alfred's roots
come from Peoria, Illinois?

...feel to you until that day.

I mean, until that moment.

Circle back around.

So jealous.

You're still pretty.

...sacrifice of
our beautiful creation.

See, we can't, uh,
un-paint a canvas

or un-play a chord.

And if a mistake has been made,

either yours or someone else's,

the only way to rectify it

is to make something beautiful.

Now, I've studied
at every temple of taste

in the entire world.

I've picked over
every reliquary that exists.

But I've never seen anything
as beautiful as you pearls.

We don't know
what tomorrow will bring.

Maybe we'll all be together...

Listen to me.

When you get to the gate,
make a right, okay?

And then, go until you see
the light, all right?

But let's hope
it's something beautiful.

To our time in the sand.

To our time
in the sand.

Push me.

Cheers.

Cheers.

Hey.

Help, help, help!

- Who are you?
- I was in the house.

I was there, and people are
dead, and we have to go.

- You were in there?
- Yes, I was in there.

Holy shit, you're bleeding.
Are you hurt?

- Yes, I am hurt!
- Is Moretti hurt?

Yes, he's hurt,
so we have to go.

- You met Moretti?
- We have to leave.

Wait, did he do the
wiggle?

I bet he did the wiggle.

Did you hear
the new song...

I'm so sorry!

Do you think about why
that Levelist helped you escape that night?

Or do you mentally try not
to go back to that time?

Maybe a mix of both.
I don't know.

I'm... This is, like, my
millionth interview this month,

so you have to forgive me.

Book tours are...

Exhausting.

- Yeah, exhausting.
- Yes, I'm tired.

So, you know I gotta ask...

Is that how it really happened when
you went back to the compound?

It's... it's exactly
as I wrote it.

And he was
actually just sitting there alone,

still in the white suit,
playing the piano?

I do feel like I've said this
a million times at this point,

but it was, uh, surreal.

Cops haven't been able to
locate a single Levelist body.

They still haven't found
the fan who was at the gate.

- Just nothing.
- Hmm.

Um, sorry.

- Do you mind if I...
- Oh, yeah.

Thanks.

Hello? This is Ariel Ecton.

Ariel. Guess who.

It's Soledad Yusef calling
from sunny Malibu, California.

And how do you find yourself
this Monday morning?

My love? Hello?

- What do you want?
- Ooh. Someone's spicy this morning.

But I believe it's more
of what you want.

Didn't you send in
six interview requests

to sit down with Mr. Moretti
for your novel?

Well, you're in luck. Mr. Moretti
would like to sit down this evening

at the high-risk
state hospital in Reno.

It's like a medieval torture
chamber, if you ask me.

Honestly, these states should be
tried for the way they treat people.

It's just absolutely abhorrent.

Soledad, you are aware

that your client,
Alfred Moretti,

pled guilty to the murder
of five innocent people,

tried to kill me,
and is suspected

of leading hundreds
of Levelists to mass suicide?

He's passionate.

Ciao, my darling.
Take care of yourself.

Salutations, as they say.

Oh, heavy.

Shall we get started?

Python.

- Excuse me?
- Well, in your novel, you wrote that when...

the first day we met

that I was wearing
cream-colored alligator boots,

but in fact, they were
smoke-colored python boots.

Now, of course, that's an easy
mistake to make for an untrained eye,

but, uh, I would never.
It's unimaginable--

In my "novel," you said?

In my 320-page non-fiction text,

your biggest gripe is with
the material of your boots?

You know, it's just, a little
constructive criticism

never killed anyone, Ariel.

Okay.

Um...

I didn't expect you to be
remorseful like a normal person,

but I came here
to try to report the truth

so that there's closure
for the families and--

And to sell a few more books.

- Well...
- Ariel, while you circle around and around

the one question

that you most assuredly came
here to ask me... Very quickly...

Primitive man chose their leader

in the same way that
animals chose their leader...

uh, brute strength.

Yeah, I... I'm familiar
with Darwin's theory.

Uh, what does that have to do
with you being a murderer?

Man evolved.

Humanity evolved.

Um, it, uh, created government

and rules and law.

And with those things,
then the criteria

for what was needed
in a leader changed.

So, it went from this
to left brain.

To be president, you have to
go to an Ivy League school

and get a little Ivy League
law degree

to signal to the rest of us,
the peons,

uh, that this is
the smart person.

But look at where we are.

Today's world is burning,
literally.

Illiteracy is at its highest.
We've never been more divided.

We have permanent war,
and the list goes on.

So, clearly, the metric,
this left-brain metric,

failed miserably.

But there is an answer.

A new evolution.

So, won't be this anymore
or this left brain

but this right brain

where the most creative
are in charge.

Look, I'm not just gonna sit here and
act like I didn't find Stan's old article

where he referred to Tilt
as overrated,

Bianca's rather unflattering
paparazzi shots.

Not good. Not too pretty.

And let's not forget Clara's
digs about your bald head.

And even you can't
wiggle your way free

after murdering
hundreds of people.

I didn't murder
hundreds of people.

You didn't murder Stan Sullivan,
Clara Armstrong,

Bianca Tyson,
Emily Katz, and Bill Lotto?

Oh, yeah, I murdered them.

You should know
your masterpiece, Ariel,

is also the introduction
to our story.

No one will condone murder.

But if it's scandalous enough,
they'll never stop talking about it.

Besides, you're not gonna stop
becoming Catholic

'cause you read a book
about the Crusades.

You're serving a life sentence
five times over.

Why not just tell us
where the bodies are?

Where are the Levelists?

Around.

We're spread out, but still
connected to teach the young

and sprout new chapters,

to preserve dying crafts,

to inspire and comfort,

to fan the flames
of raw enthusiasm,

to closely monitor those
who obstruct the divinely burdened.

Not hiding but waiting.

Waiting to better tomorrow.

So, what was in
the champagne glasses, then?

Champagne.

- Okay.
- Oh.

With talent comes forgiveness.

The bigger the talent,

the more complete
the forgiveness.

Level will grow and grow.

We just, uh...

needed someone
to get the ball rolling.

So, um...

Come on. You get it.

So, why me?

Disco.

Two reasons, really.

One for us, one for me.

For us, we felt
you were a pure vessel,

completely uncorrupted
by success,

uncorrupted by cheap shots
for clicks.

For me, while looking
through your background,

I read a story you'd written
about a school board lady.

- Remember that?
- Carol Reggo?

That piece was less than 500 words.
It was before I was even at J.

You wrote that her chin was

"delightfully inconspicuous."

And I needed my chin
in good hands.

Once in a generation,
a tragedy so compelling occurs,

it grabs the entire world's
attention.

Most people condemn
the horrific events

that took place
a few years ago,

while a growing minority
sympathize with the guilty party.

After all, Caesar's Request

has sold millions of copies
since its release.

But the one thing
we can all agree on...

Our next guest is a star.

Her new book
was an instant bestseller,

but unless you've been living on
Mars, you already know that.

Ms. Ecton, good morning.
Congratulations.

I'm so thrilled to be
sitting down with you today.

I mean, Our Time in the Sand
is such a daring,

beautiful novel.

What does it feel like
to have written the book

that everybody's talking about?

Ms. Ecton?