Original subtitles

Telephone

Calling me

Who put all that shit in your head?

Saying things

Telling things

Till you break

Filthy water

Bubbles up

Who put all that shit in your head?

It's not that my mother...

My mother...

It's not that she did what she did to me.

It's that, somehow, in the eyes of my family,

in the eyes of a lot of the neighborhood, I'm somehow the bad guy.

And what's your crime?

I don't know. I was twelve.

Well, you embarrass them.

You know, bad people create stories

to deny that they are, in fact, bad people.

But then something, or someone...

becomes irrefutable proof that they are, in fact, pieces of fucking shit.

And it holds up a mirror that they can't look into.

And so they take the mirror off the wall

and they cover it with a sheet because it embarrasses them.

That's me, huh?

I'm afraid so.

- I swear... - It's not working...

It's not working... It's not me...

What she did to me...

It's not me... It's not me...

...it told me that I had no value.

It's not working... It's not me...

My skin, my lungs... my face.

None of it.

Any of it.

Yeah?

And she's making you feel like that all over again.

God, do I hate your fucking family, Michelle.

I don't.

How about I drop by?

That won't help.

Well, it won't hurt.

Yeah, it will.

Hey, Michelle, you may have some trouble grasping this...

but I'm your best friend.

Shit, Steve.

I don't have any trouble grasping that. Trust me.

Well, then let me be that to you now.

You are.

You're being perfect.

Right where you are.

Fuck.

Okay.

Okay.

You're not better than me.

Did I say I was?

Ms. Egg-White Omelet, wheat toast, black coffee.

There she goes. I happen to like black coffee.

Put this shit in and tell me it doesn't taste better.

Do it. Taste it.

This shit's pretty good.

You would make a good police officer. You got that solid command presence.

"Do it."

You could stop this.

What? You're gonna live with her?

Eat with her? Watch TV with her?

It's your house too.

She's old. She needs a place to stay. She's his mom.

She's a fucking monster.

Okay, so she's both.

A lot of people got a lotta things in 'em.

Yeah, Sophie's got a lot in her too.

You put her in a house with that woman, she will wring it all out.

One day you'll come home, you'll find a kid who isn't a kid,

just some tiny adult waiting to be old enough

- for a fucking antidepressant. - Okay, don't talk about my kid.

- You don't know her. - I was her.

I'm her mother.

You wanna rewind a 20-year-old drama? Go ahead.

But you're not 12 anymore.

And Sophie's not you.

Step into my business again, I'ma call you "Karen."

You and your fucking egg whites.

Want a bite of my bacon?

You know I do.

Were you scared?

My heart was racing, but years of running into dangerous situations,

it teaches you to harness your fear into focus.

You know, the thought of leaving my wife alone...

I mean, that trumps any fear.

Well, you're a hero to all of us.

I hope you can take some time to be with your family.

Oh, yeah. I hope so too.

And I hear you're writing a book?

I am. That's right, Jan. It's about an arson investigator.

- How exciting. I can't wait to read it. - Yeah.

When does it come out?

We're still working on that,

but I think I got a good idea for the ending now.

Jason, a word.

Yes, Ms. Boswell?

Deal with that, please.

I understand David Gudsen queried us a few months back

and we passed on his book.

Is that correct?

Yes.

You're an intelligent young man.

Thank you, Ms. Boswell.

So I'm just trying to understand how this could've happened.

I felt that his sample wasn't up to our standards.

Get Gudsen on the phone. Now.

When life give you lemons, you got to make lemonade.

You had to let him become a hero.

You let him become a fucking hero.

We had DNA on a cancer stick.

And we got stipachio fucking ice cream, whatever.

Meanwhile he closes the Milk Jug Arsonist,

and what do we have on our resumes, huh?

I'll tell you what. Nada. Culo. Dick.

- Are you done? - Oh, yeah, I'm done, princess.

Hello?

This whole fucking thing is done, all right?

Why hasn't he gone back home since the car wreck?

The ATF detail says that he's at the Cascade Motel on Route 6.

And the morning I met him, he'd slept in his office overnight.

Yeah, well, he never could hold on to his women.

The Old Sully's lawsuit files.

Anything useful?

Mostly transcripts of hearings and expert reports.

Gudsen's report that the cause was an electrical fire.

Post-fire photos of the pallet of molten barbecue grills

blocking the emergency exit.

And the other ones.

There's the photo of the emergency exit right before the grills blocked it

and the other ones prior to the fire.

No record.

No, that's impossible. Let me see. It's in there.

It's gotta be in here.

Gudsen uses it all the time in his lectures.

None of it matters, okay? It was ruled an accident.

It's done and dusted.

So what we have here, just so that I'm clear,

is one vagina hair less than nothing.

I understand that. Ms. Boswell, could you please repeat that?

My agency's interested in Investigator Gudsen's book.

Can you put him on?

What kind of agency is that?

I'm a literary agent.

Ma'am, this is Police Captain Steven Burke.

We will have a unit to you in the next half hour to discuss this matter with you.

Is this some kind of joke?

No, it is no joke.

So please do not make any effort to contact Investigator Gudsen

until our team arrives. Okay?

Okay.

English Major, tell me about the literary world.

What are you doing?

Hey. Making you a frittata.

Did you see the news?

You know, I heard from an agent who wants to talk to me about my book.

Clean up and get out.

Ash, couples argue.

We both did shit, said shit we didn't mean.

We meant it.

Hey. Hey!

I love you.

What about that?

Your stuff's in the garage.

How long we been in here?

Approaching four hours now. Day two.

Four hours, plus a whole day, Mr. Fasano.

And you can't say one word?

You are aware that the death penalty exists here, Fred?

Why don't you tell us about some of the other fires?

We could put in a good word.

You're gonna do life, sure, but

three squares a day and your family could visit.

Of course, he'd have to tell us about all the fires.

Well, yeah.

The guy who caught you, Fred, he's been chasing you a long time.

He likes you for... what'd he say, twenty?

Twenty-two.

Twenty-two fires in Trolley Town. Damn.

That's a career.

Yeah. Kind of impressive.

You know what he gave us, Fred?

He gave us the glove that you left at a torch job on 77th Street last January.

I can't wait to get the DNA results back on that.

What my partner's saying, Fred, is we own your ass.

We got you.

What's his name?

The guy who caught you?

His name is David Gudsen.

I'll talk to him.

Dude!

Hey.

You beautiful motherfuckers. Thank you. Thank you.

- Finally, huh? - Oh, shit.

There he is. Mr. MVP.

Oh, shit.

- You spectacular motherfucker, you. - Stop.

- Nah, man. Come on. - Please, stop.

Wait. What we got going...

- You know. - What's happening?

- Makeup for TV. I was on TV. - A little makeup?

- I don't know if you heard? - Okay.

- Yeah, no, I saw you. - Yeah.

You looked real good. You looked good.

Ashley must be loving this, huh?

She is.

- Yeah, I'm sure she is. - Yeah.

All right, come on. Give me the details. Shit.

How'd you do it?

Solid police work.

Fuck you.

All right. Come on, man. Seriously.

I... You know, I had a hunch, and I followed it.

Yeah.

You didn't tell me about your hunch.

A lot of hunches suck.

You're not wrong about that.

Hey, Investigator Gudsen.

Uh-huh.

Of course.

I'm happy to help.

Yeah. On my way.

- Shoot. Gotta run. - Yeah?

Yeah, Milk Jug wants to speak with me, so...

Nice. Can I come?

Why?

I don't know. Maybe I could learn a little bit from the master.

- Yeah? - All right.

Yeah, man.

- Bravo. Give him his flowers. - Hey. I could get used to this.

So, what you're asking of me, a private citizen,

is to sit across from a man you believe is a psychopath and lie to him?

And if you catch him because of your little ruse,

then I'm to trust he has no partners and will never make bail.

And if you don't catch him,

then I've just become known to a serial arsonist

as the woman who lied to him about his book and crushed his dreams?

Yeah, well, sure. I mean, when you put it like that it...

Jason will see you out.

What would you have paid him for the book?

We don't pay. A publisher does.

And what would a publisher have paid, say?

Flavor-of-the-month prices. Six figures. Low six figures, but six.

So, what would they pay for the real story?

So, an arson investigator who turns out to be an arsonist,

who then becomes a hero by catching, another arsonist in the act,

who also happens to be writing a book

about an arsonist being targeted by an arson investigator,

both of whom...

he based on himself.

I mean...

Jason, honey, get Damien Castlebach on the phone. Tell him it's urgent.

Damien Castlebach, the attorney?

No, Damien Castlebach, the veterinary podiatrist.

How many fucking Damien Castlebachs do you know?

Yes, Ms. Boswell.

Exclusive rights to not only the story, but the life rights for all of you.

And the journalist I choose to tell the tale

will have full access to your case files.

The last one I can't guarantee, no.

Then find another agent.

Okay.

Well, thank you so much.

Access to all files not subject to ongoing litigation.

How's that?

Yeah. I can work with that.

Gudsen's entering Crawford precinct.

How you doing, Fred?

Heard you wanted to talk to me.

I created a profile on you.

Heard it's gonna be used in criminology courses...

in three colleges.

One of them being an Ivy.

Yeah.

I nailed you, man.

Poverty...

the youth homes...

The only thing I got wrong...

I thought you had a 'fro.

One of them Black Panther 'fros.

Size of a fucking traffic cone.

But otherwise, spot on.

Who was she?

Who?

The one that gave you the hole.

What fucking hole are you talking about?

I...

I got some questions for you, Fred.

It's a big hole.

When did you start doing fires, hmm?

I saw these maggots...

eating a dead bird once.

Like its insides had spilled and became this soup.

Squirmy.

Leaky.

Were you a juvenile?

And that's your soul.

Maggots in a dead bird.

Who was she?

Look, Fred,

I don't think you're in any position

- to be talking about anybody else's soul. - Your mother?

Your mother.

Why didn't she love you?

You...

You used a single gallon...

jug for m...

most of your fires.

Why...

Why did you use six jugs for the Tillman house?

Did she catch you doing something?

Or were you not what she wanted or--

Shut the fuck up, dude.

I mean...

Or was it something like you and me have right now?

She recognized shit...

when she smelled it.

- Let's get back to-- - I knew you

500 years ago.

And I'll know you 500 years from now.

Your hate is your food.

You got a lot of hate, Fred.

Freddy.

But then you've got a lot to hate, hmm?

Two dozen foster homes?

It's heartbreaking.

But why did you have to burn all those people? Burn them alive over it?

I don't know.

Sad.

It's so sad.

And what's your excuse?

Well, I don't commit arson.

I don't kill people.

"You are like whitewashed tombs.

Beautiful on the outside...

but on the inside...

full of the bones of the dead."

I think...

Well, that was interesting.

Shit.

Thai food.

Yeah.

I'm gonna take the rest of the...

Take it off, man.

Good idea.

Can you come out a sec?

Kinda busy, babe.

Now that shit's just frigid.

That's just my sister in your head.

Would you leave our daughter alone with your mother?

Then why let her live with us?

Hey, Dawn?

Yeah, how's she holding up, huh?

- Solid as a rock. - What's that?

I'm just throwing you a compliment.

Hey. Hey, you got any salt?

Hey. Hey, heads up.

He's coming in from the north.

- On his way. What's my name? - Hillary.

Hillary Milton.

Good. You ready?

I recognize that hero from television. Come, come.

You're more handsome in person.

Erica Boswell.

- David? - Dave.

Such an honor.

My colleague, Hillary Milton.

Huge fan.

Well, thank you for inviting me.

- Oh, but sit. Sit. - Please. Yeah.

Oopsie. Shouldn't have had that double macchiato.

Yeah.

First, let us apologize for the letter you received.

The employee who sent it has been demoted.

Hillary replaced him.

And I firmly believe, if we were to represent your book,

we could land you a significant advance.

Oh, well, that sounds lovely.

In your query, you said everything was inspired by fact.

For legal reasons, we need to clarify what's true and what's fiction.

Hey, waiter's coming in.

Can you try to booze him up a little bit?

Can I get you folks started with some drinks?

Well, champagne?

Our treat.

Well, I'm not going back into the office.

Is someone using this one?

Is someone using this one?

Oh, shit. Sorry, that's mine.

Ashley? David Gudsen's wife, right?

- Yeah. - Yeah.

I'm Michelle, his partner.

He's got a picture of you on his desk.

I haven't seen you around here.

Yeah, I just joined.

It's nice.

How's it feel being married to a hero?

Christ, you're pretty.

Thanks, you too.

I'd cheat on me with you.

Okay.

No, I did not...

I did not ever--

I read his book.

It's okay. We're done.

You wanna screw him, screw him.

No.

What Dave wrote about us was complete fiction.

No, this is fiction.

You didn't leave in the middle of a workday,

drive 40 minutes to a gym you don't belong to

and just happen to bump into me by coincidence.

What do you want?

If I suspected your husband of a crime, would that shock you?

What crime would that be?

Well, what crime you think he'd be capable of?

Anything.

What?

- A monk arsonist? - Right?

But then the devices we found at the site

pointed at this other guy we've been tracking for a bit.

The Divide & Conquer arsonist.

So is that Donald in the book?

Mostly.

Yeah.

What's Donald's motivation?

Yeah, why does he do it?

'Cause he's smarter than everyone.

Aren't there easier ways to show that?

Less violent ones?

Donald feels like a lot of guys.

Certain people get special treatment and advantages,

and Donald is just left to play a rigged game.

He knows he's smarter,

he knows he's capable of doing any job you put in front of him. He's...

superior.

Why's he light the fires then?

To punish them.

Okay, that's great. Just reel him in.

Just reel him in nice and easy, okay? Nice and easy.

For what?

For rejecting him.

How? He's a white man in America.

Every door is open to him.

Yeah, except the ones held for people who didn't earn it.

And he could walk through those too.

Let's get back to the book.

There used to be men in this country. Now there's just dickless coolies

with messenger bags and therapists who tell them it's acceptable to be dickless.

And those men have ample opportunity.

They... No!

No, they do not.

Fucking snapped the line. She fucking snapped the line, man.

Fuck!

So, Donald is...

He's just a sick bastard, you know?

Here it is. Can you get him to talk about Old Sully's?

Can you tell us about that fire in the hardware store?

Yes, that was so vivid.

I felt like I was right there.

How much of it was based on fact?

Some of it.

Most of it was just imagination.

No. He's not stupid.

Okay, but now why'd you think he was cheating?

- Other than the book? - Yeah.

He was gone most nights.

Said he was needed at a fire, but no call came in over his radio.

You think he was burning stuff that whole time?

Maybe.

You ever see him set a fire?

Only at a campsite.

Have you ever talked to his ex-wives at all or...

I only know about one.

Well...

there are two.

Fucker never told you?

Fucker did not.

I'm sorry.

I didn't know.

You're thinking why'd she marry him?

Why'd she take so long to leave?

No. I...

I think leaving at all is fucking brave.

Women don't get to be brave.

When we're single, we're scared of commitment.

When we settle down, we're cowards.

When we divorce, we're giving up.

So what are you?

I'm very single.

No one can hurt you and all it costs is loneliness.

Good deal.

Dave ever hurt you?

There were times when we'd have the most boring conversation.

"What's for dinner?" "Turn the TV off." You know?

And Dave would smile in my face...

but when he turned around, I'd catch him in a reflection.

Not Dave, but this...

thing...

living inside of Dave.

It wanted to take a hammer to my skull.

But he never actually hurt you?

He just had fantasies.

Like what?

We had rough sex.

Consensual, but Dave pushed the limits.

He said he wanted to rape me in a burning building.

And he wanted to film it.

That never happened, right?

No.

It was just a fantasy.

Look, the guy had a fantasy, okay?

I shouldn't be blamed for the sludge that's in his head.

Yeah, but he fantasized about filming it, Ezra.

Yeah, but we didn't do anything like that.

"Like that." Okay, so you obviously did something.

Oh, come on. Give me a fucking break, will you?

All right.

So if I go right now, and I get a warrant for all of your DVDs

of your artfully crafted sexual cinema,

I'm not gonna find a single one featuring Dave Gudsen, right?

All right. You're gonna find two.

- Two, okay? - Stop bullshitting me then.

My early work. I don't do that shit no more.

You couldn't have told me this from the beginning?

You don't do your rape fantasies anymore?

- That's what you're saying you don't do. - Not in a burning building like that.

And let me tell you something, she was into it.

- Oh, yeah. - Ain't no way.

- I don't buy that. Ashley's not the type. - No, I'm not talking about her.

Well, who the fuck you talking about?

Oh, fuck!

- God... Fucking... - Who are you talking about, Ezra?

Reba, okay? Reba. His second wife.

So then Reba knows the real Dave?

Oh, yeah.

More than anybody on Earth.

So, Dave's getting an award?

Yeah. A commendation for saving that woman's life.

Might get the keys to the city if his background checks out.

Wanna know the truth about Dave?

Yeah, I do.

He's a good guy.

Great at his job.

So he's a saint?

He can be a dick.

Sometimes he's an entitled asshole who's incapable of self-reflection.

You call that a good guy?

What's a good guy?

A choir boy who loves his mom, flosses his teeth every night?

That your kinda guy?

No. No.

So, Dave was exciting?

Yeah?

Why'd you divorce him?

I wanted a partner.

He wanted a wife.

I'm not the domestic type.

And I cheated on him.

That offend your moral sensibilities?

Honestly, no.

Certainly not in a place to judge.

You been there.

Had an affair a while back with my boss.

Called it off. I got scared.

He hurt you?

You know, he would smile to my face,

but he had this thing living inside of him that just wanted to see me suffer.

I know that road.

Was that Dave's road?

No.

Another guy. A while back.

Come on, honey.

How was dance?

It was good.

Go on. Go play. I'll call you when dinner's ready.

Thought you were going to a party.

I was.

Hi.

Hi, I'm Todd.

Michelle.

I'm heading out.

Thanks for your time.

If I have any other questions, I'll call you.

Sounds good.

Did we blow it?

No.

But she definitely triggered his spidey sense.

Let's just give it a couple days and then...

tell him you found a publisher.

Where's he now?

Some party they're throwing for him.

John, same again.

You play this?

I need a hero

I'm holding out for a hero Till the end of the night

And he's gotta be strong And he's gotta be fast

And he's gotta be fresh from the fight

- Here he is. There's my guy. - Yeah.

All right, get a room, you handsome pansexuals.

Can I have a Maker's for my friend, please?

- I got a fucking beer. - It's a party, for God's sake.

It's a party. Come on, enjoy.

Here is to the fucking hero!

- Hell yeah! - Okay!

You two have known each other for a while, huh?

What's that?

I said you've known each other for a while then, huh?

This guy here was my first training officer.

I see. So it's like a father-daughter thing?

Why do you like fire?

What's that?

You heard me.

No, I don't like fire.

I fight fire.

He fights fire?

- Yeah. Yeah. - Okay. Cool.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

- Sorry, I meant... It was my mistake. - No.

- We're gonna let the hero have his drink. - That's funny. That's good.

- Come on, Captain. - I see.

- I'm gonna be here, okay? - Enjoy, hero.

I'm gonna play some pool.

You roll over if she tells you to?

"Fetch. Lie down.

Lick your own balls. Oh, good boy.

There's a good boy."

You know what you are?

I'm pretty sure I'm the guy who just caught the Milk Jug Arsonist.

You're not me.

You know who I am?

Educate me.

Everything you wish you were.

Everything you wish you had,

and never will.

Because you are a fucking loser.

Could I pay for the hero's drinks?

Thank you so much.

Okay.

Get the fuck off me!

Hey.

You okay, bud?

Yeah.

That motherfucker just fucking sucker punched me,

and you just stood there!

Just left me standing at the bar like a f...

Like a bitch.

You know, my head's been a little...

With Lauren's wedding and...

I thought we were pals.

He knows.

Don't you understand, you tiny--

He shook the tail and lost the tracker.

Oh, shit. How?

Driving like a fucking maniac.

All right. Put a car on his motel right fucking now.

Hey, Espo.

Sure. Yeah.

- Drive safe. Peace. - Okay.