All language subtitles for The.Lowdown.2025.S01E04.1080p.WEB.h264-ETHEL[EZTVx.to]_Track03

Come on,
you said you'd give me the books.

-I know. I went right over there. I swear.
-You went right over there?

I need what is inside the books.

I was asked by Donald
to deliver this to you.

It's $10,000.
He's taking over the property.

Donald's not loyal to you. Mm-mmm.
He's not loyal to anyone.

What else are you doing
with the skinheads, huh?

-What do they do for you?
-Hey, hey!

We got something
that your boss is gonna love.

I heard someone was asking after me.
In my place of work.

Next time you wanna talk, call me direct.

Maybe I'll even take you for a ride out
to one of our properties.

You could get lost out there.

-What's wrong with you?
-Don't look in the barrel.

Why? What's in the barrel?

It's the books.
But it's okay. Don't worry.

Who would do that?

Dad, stop. You said, "It's not the books
that I wanted. It's what's in the books."

"A weed is a plant out of place."

Let me repeat that.
"A weed is a plant out of place.

I find a hollyhock in my corn field,
it's a weed.

I find it in my yard, it's a flower."

Wise words from the great Jim Thompson.

And, dear reader, in case you are at all
confused by my poetic imagery, it's me.

I, Dale Washberg, am the weed.

The Osage Hills.

My pawpaw's pawpaw acquired this land
when he first laid foot in the territory.

Generations of Washbergs were raised here.

Many stories were passed down,
wonderful to tell.

Like how my great grandma kept a pet
squirrel on a leash tied to a tree,

or how Cousin Elizabeth
went screaming into the forest

the first time she saw an automobile.

My own story began
when I was yanked from my mother's womb

at 6:00 a.m. on a Tuesday.

The deck was stacked against me
from the start.

I was born with a cone head, a busted lip,
a broken collarbone, and a black eye.

The forceps were unkind to me,
as was my mother's canal.

My father's first words
when he saw me were…

"What's wrong with him?"

But my older brother
took me under his wing.

Donald always made me feel
like I was a part of some great adventure.

When we played Cowboys and Indians…

Come on, Dale.

…we was always short on cowboys.

I was okay being second fiddle.

Unfortunately, that was one fiddle

too many for Mom and Pop.

Mom called me Bobo.

A truly terrible name,
also used to describe a ass.

As for Pop, well, he grazed me
in my bobo with bird shot.

I have yet to receive an apology or to
retrieve all the pellets from my behind.

"The extraction process
was an arduous one,

which requires great dexterity
and a keen eye."

Okay, you know how I always tell you
that writing is about personal expression

and you should never compromise
for the sake of the reader?

-Yes.
-I take it all back.

Okay, Dad, but come on, I know
it's not great, but the guy is dead.

Yeah, so what? It doesn't mean we should
stop being honest about his work.

I mean, that's just not
our main focus right now.

-You're right.
-Mmm.

You two pulling an all-nighter?

Well, looks like
we might be here all week. Thank you.

Well, let me know
if you need any pancakes, Francis.

I'll get Bobby to make 'em.

He can make 'em
in the shape of a peace sign,

anarchy symbol, middle finger.
It's pretty cool.

Well, how about a coffee?

Right on.

Hey, Dad, check it out.

I had an odd experience this evening.

I had just retired to my study to resume
work on my opus, The Dustbowl Kid.

I heard barking from afar.

My dog, Sally is my first line
of defense, and her message was clear.

I can't believe
you're wearing white at night.

-Shut the fuck up.
-Stupid.

I looked out the window and saw
the assassins come out of the tree line

like a crazed band
of Lakota Indians of old.

- Keep going.
- I'm going.

They say the 7th Cavalry's defeat
took about as long as it takes

for a healthy man to eat a large meal.

They certainly meant to make a meal

of me.

I reached for my revolver
and rained down thunder upon them.

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go.

Holy shit! These are the skinheads,
the ones who locked me in the trunk.

This is the job
they fucked up in Skiatook.

- What?
- This is why they got killed.

The skinheads put you in a trunk?

-No, no.
-Is that why you're all beat up?

No. It was… It's not like…

I mean, yes, technically,
but it wasn't a big deal.

Every trunk has a little lever.
You just hit it, it opens.

I got out. It's not a big deal.
Please don't tell your mom.

Should I be worried?

No. What would you be
worried about? No, no.

Skinheads come and go, you know,
these ones are going.

Thanks to Allen.

Wait, the red-headed guy that came by
the bookstore the other night?

Oh, my gosh, and I shouldn't be worried?

Okay, okay, the red-headed stranger
has nothing to do with us, okay?

Nothing. We're good. We're fine. Promise.

What? You wanna call it a night?

No.

Let's keep going.

I rushed to inform my wife
of this bloody ambush.

I reckoned that she ought to be
the first to know.

She claimed to have just awakened
from a deep slumber

and to have slept through the entire mess.

When I told her what had transpired,
she did not react,

which told me all I needed to know.

I had as of late,
detected a deeper coldness from her,

of the kind that precludes
something dark and foreboding.

Hey, when's that letter dated?

September 15th. Why?

This is from a week before.

I sit here nursing a bottle
of Wild Turkey and a sore right hand.

For the first time in my life,
I have struck my brother.

Goddamn it, Dale,
you are not thinking straight.

I came to him in peace
to sort this Indian Head Hills issue.

But he would not listen.

He became angrier and angrier.

Finally, he said the unthinkable to me,

a most vile provocation
I could not tolerate.

This is something that's not even yours!

Betty Jo put that terrible idea
into his head,

knowing that it would come out
of his mouth.

She's not even a real Washberg,

so it's funny
her trying to say what belongs to who.

Betty Jo always called me sensitive.

She meant it as weak, but it really means,
"quick to perceive things."

To me, that's a strength.

All right, shit.

So a week before the murder,
the two brothers have a big blowout?

Which gets blamed on Betty Jo.
It seems a little convenient, but maybe--

Yeah, still, she didn't seem
to care at all

when Dale told her
that the killers came for him.

Yeah, but wouldn't she
have heard the shots?

Uh… Word on the street
is she's a big drinker.

Even so, didn't seem like news to her.

Like she knew it was coming.

Like she knew it was coming. Yes.

All right, one,
Indian Head Hills, old Washberg land.

Sounds like they've been fighting a lot
about that recently.

"Indian Head Hills."

Two, "A most vile provocation."

What the hell did Donald say to Dale
that set him off so badly?

According to Dale, Betty Jo would know.

We've been looking at this
from the wrong angle. I mean,

I've always thought that this conspiracy
to kill Dale started in some boardroom,

but what if it was, you know,
a more private matter?

No, but how does that explain Allen then?
Doesn't he work for that Akron company?

Yeah, but Donald could have hired him
as a private contractor, right?

They meet at some fancy-pants benefit.
Donald sees him, you know, and he says,

"Hey, that guy looks like the kind of guy
who might kill somebody for 1000 bucks."

Kill who for what?

Mom.

How was your trip?

It was good. It was fun. Scooch.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. So, what's up?

What's up?

I'm here to take her to school.
Monday to Friday.

Oh. Yes. Um, you get your homework done?

-Uh-huh. Mmm.
-Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, I went down to the store
and that Waylon guy said you were here.

He's… He's nice, right?

I think he's a Juggalo, Lee.

He's Indian Mafia.

Oh. Okay, that's better.

You look fried. Were you up all night?

No. Early risers.

Yeah. Breakfast is the most
important meal of the day.

Right.

Okay, see you around on the campus, kiddo.

Keep on rocking in the free world. Boom!

Call me… …text me.
See you again.

-Actually--
-Love you.

I'll meet you in the car.
I'll be right there, okay?

Okay.

She's sitting back down.

This is important.

How may I help you, ma'am?

What?

What's wrong?

You pregnant?

No, I'm not pregnant, dummy.

Johnny asked me to marry him.

Jesus, this guy. I mean, he moves fast.

I mean, you told him
you swore off marriage, right?

I said yes.

What do you mean?

Why would you say that?

I'm happy.

I gotta get her to school.

My name is Allen.
I'm an alcoholic and a drug addict.

Hi, Allen.

Uh, I'm coming up on my two years…

which I should be proud of.

Tell you the truth,
it's been hard staying clean lately.

There's someone I work for.

Someone that I let down.

And, uh…

I haven't been honest with him.

And it's not fair to him
because I owe this man everything.

When I got out of McAlester,

he was the only one
who threw me a lifeline.

And I-I…

I was…

I was at rock bottom.

Man, I mean,
I probably would have died there.

And he pulled me up,

taught me all about structure and goals.

And, uh…

I'm…

I'm just praying I can stay strong

and, uh, set all this right again somehow.

John Garfield, Patricia Neal,
it's got Juano Hernandez in it.

It's directed by Michael Curtiz.
He did Casablanca.

When I ask her to marry me, she says
she doesn't believe in the patriarchy,

she doesn't believe in church and state.

-When a dentist asked her to marry--
-Lee, what's your favorite Michael Curtiz?

Not now, Abel.

It's not a movie. I would've
thought you'd say The Boy from Oklahoma.

-No, Captain Blood. Errol Flynn.
-He's got a sandwich.

-Can I get the sandwich off of you?
-Good morning.

-Can I help you?
-Yeah, hold up.

I got something for you.

Where'd you get that?

I drew it.

How do you know Dale?

-Why are you giving this to me?
-I'm not giving it. I'm selling it.

It's 30 bucks.

Yeah, okay. I got you. Sure.

You're the guy who wrote that article
about him, right?

Yeah, it's not my fault he killed himself,
okay? It's not.

I know.

How do you know?

-This too much.
-No. Keep the change.

So how'd you know Dale?

What were you? Friends?

-Did you know him well?
-Actually, I didn't know the dude.

-Oh, come on, man.
-Yeah, I just saw that photo in the paper,

but thank you. Appreciate it.

Hey, yo, come…

Who are you?

Abel, you know that guy?

No, he was loitering.

A loiterer.

- You seen Waylon?
- No.

Lee? You got company!

-Lee? Company!
-Yeah, yeah, I'm coming.

Coming, be right there.

Bro, Elijah's here. He's acting weird.

-Well, he's a weird dude.
-Weirder than usual.

Hey, Elijah. How you doing?

You good?

Elijah?

You okay?

I'm on shrooms. Uh…

Already, huh?
What, just to get through the day?

- No, because I was coming to see you.
- Really?

Also, I thought it was a microdose.
It wasn't.

All right, hit me.

Uh, Donald Washberg is… …suing
the Heartland Press.

Apparently, you upset him when you
cornered him at his brother's memorial.

You know what? This is great.

-The future governor going to war with us…
-Yes.

-…is great?
-Yes, you saw Debbie Does Dallas, right?

The beaver film?

-The porno. Don't be ashamed. It's okay.
-The skin… I'm not ashamed.

1978, Debbie Does Dallas comes out, okay?

-The "actresses" were wearing uniforms…
-Oh, no. No.

…very similar to that
of the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, right?

So the Cowboys get pissed.

They sue the producers for everything
they got, and guess what? They win.

But what happens?

Everybody's talking about
Debbie Does Dallas.

It becomes the most successful porno
in the world

because they were sued.

-He's gonna destroy Heartland.
-No.

Lee, we're a b-basic nonprofit.
We're for-profit, but we're only funded…

-Our readership is about to explode.
-…by one man's profit. That make sense?

-Everyone's gonna get laid off…
-No.

-…and I'm gonna lose my house.
-You live at Heartland Press.

Exactly. And I'm gonna lose it. I'll be
out on the street eating sandwiches.

You're gonna lose your revenue stream.

-You're gonna lose your book store.
-This is the greatest day of our lives.

Lee, Donald's lawyers are seeking
a restraining order.

If you go anywhere near the Washberg
family, they're gonna throw you in jail.

When does that get issued?

Hello there, Mr. Governor.

Terry, don't you dare call me that.
You know how superstitious I am.

Clark, what are you doing here?

I thought Linda had you on house arrest.

Look at these little onions. Ooh.

Never trust a man
who doesn't get onions on his Coneys.

-Hmm.
-Mmm. Mmm.

I went to see Betty Jo yesterday.

She's not moving out of the house.

-You gave her the money?
-She threw it back in my face.

Sounds like she's upset.

How did you think she would take it? And
how did you think I would feel doing it?

I mean, I didn't sign up
for putting widows out in the streets.

Don't be so dramatic, Chubs.

We offered her new accommodations
and cash.

Can I talk to you as a friend right now?

Well, I hope
we're always talking as friends.

I don't know what's going on
between you and Betty Jo,

but do you really wanna piss her off
a month before the election?

She can really fuck up your life
right now.

No, she's not gonna do that.

If some motherfucker was kicking me out
of my house, I would fuck his life up.

My wife found out.

She's livid.

She's not letting me keep
my special friend on the property.

This is what I'm dealing with.

I got to keep Maryann happy.

She's a huge part of this campaign.
I love her and women voters love her.

If Betty Jo starts talking, women voters
will have an opinion about that too.

See, this is why I need your help.

I'm in a jam, Chubs.

I mean, underneath this strong
and confident demeanor

is a man who feels things intensely,

and I am feeling this pressure

that someone
in your position doesn't understand.

In my position?

Yes…

…I'm running for the highest office
in the state.

I mean, no offense, Chubs,
but you don't know what this is like.

It's an unimaginable burden.

Just the money alone…

You know, I wanna help you.

Good. Good, because you're the only person
I can trust.

Donald, go talk to her.

No.

Mmm.

Subtle.

You hungry?

Come on.

Oh, shit.

This gravy is fucking amazing, okay?
It's nice. It's thick.

Hmm. I thought you'd like it here.

No, I love it.

-Really?
-Mm-hmm.

Well, because this is the kind of food
you think people like me eat.

-People like you?
-Mm-hmm.

I know what I'm supposed to be.

Trailer trash who married up.

Yeah, I read your article, Lee.
I can read, you know.

-I never said--
-You implied. Oh, yes, you did,

which is a coward's way of saying it.

Okay, look, people can talk a lot of shit
about me, all right?

But coward? No.
Elitist? Fuck, no.

Cheap shots hurt your feelings too?

If you talked to me for the article,
you know you could've set me straight.

-Why would I talk to a complete stranger?
-I'm not a complete stranger.

I'm a "truthstorian."
And I'm hunting for the truth.

Yeah.

You want the truth?

-Yeah.
-Okay.

Some dirtbag reporter wrote a hit piece
about my family.

Truth.

Then after my husband died,

that reporter shows up
at the estate sale peacocking around.

-Peacocking?
-Yeah.

And then,

then he crashes the memorial,

trying to ruin it by screaming crazy shit
at my dead husband's brother.

-Can I--
-No, this… this is a game to you.

No, it's not a game. I had my ass kicked.
My family was threatened.

-By who?
-Well, by…

Mmm.

Forget it.

-Oh. No, let me.
-I got it. I insist.

All right, well, um…

-Thanks for the meal.
-My pleasure.

I've been waiting to chew your ass.

I gotta say you took it like a man.

Mostly.

I am sorry about your husband.

-Thank you.
-It must have been really difficult with--

I don't want to talk about Dale. Mm-mmm.

All right, no Dale.

You wanna get a drink?

-You buying?
-Yeah.

'Cause you look busted.

I always keep an emergency C-note
in my boot. Check this out.

Get your feet off the table.

Well, look.
You say I got the wrong impression of you.

I think you got the wrong impression
of me.

Let's have a couple
of shots of tequila and fix it.

Little drinking, little dancing.

All right.

But I'm only staying for one.

Allen.

-Hello, Bonnie.
-What's up, man?

Phil.

What's going on?

I was at the store. I got you these.

-Why did you do that?
-I thought you might need it.

That's nice, thanks.

Blackie around?

No, I was hoping you'd seen him.

No, I haven't…
He wasn't at the meeting today.

You're his sponsor.
He talks to you more than he does to me.

Ugh. You think he's back
on that shit again?

Hope not. But, uh, you never know.

Uh, an old pal of Blackie's came by
the other day looking for him,

said he was his old cellmate or something.

What pal?

Dude named Johnny.

Never heard of him.

Well, he said he was from out of town.

What'd he look like?

Older, kind of handsome. Stars and Bars.

You talk to this guy?

No. Oh, well, ju… a little.

And what did he want again?

He was just looking for those two.
He didn't say why.

And you didn't ask?

Well, he was really just like,
in and then out.

You should have called me.

He comes around again, you let me know.

Yeah, that's right.

That's too good.

Okay, my turn to toast.

To Lee,

who is not quite as big of an asshole
as he pretends to be.

Mmm. Oh.

Mmm.

You are not the first person
to give that toast.

♪ I can hang with anybody ♪

Oh, this poor thing.

♪ I can drink whiskey and red wine ♪

Holy shit. Oof.

Well, you're a snob.

I'm not a snob. I just…
I don't need another ballad.

Oh. Broken heart.

Everybody's heart's broken.

Mm-mmm.

All right, listen to this.

-My ex, the mother of my child…
-Yeah. Yeah.

…uh…

…is marrying a dentist.

No, you can't fault the woman
for wanting stability.

-I mean, what does your kid think of him?
-Francis is a great bullshit detector.

She's on to him.

How old is she?

She's 13.

-Mine's 20. Pearl.
-Mmm.

Pearl. That's a pretty name.

Yeah, she's a pretty girl.

She's a handful.

Yeah.

I mean…

Well, if I talked to my mom
the way that she talks to me.

I'd… I'd be dead.

And my mom would be on death row.

But… …back to your ex.

Don't put her on a pedestal.

You think people are one thing.
And then they turn out to be another.

Hey, Lee.
Could you do me a favor?

-Anything you want.
-Okay.

Okay.

Could you…

Mmm. God.

Could you just follow me home so I know
that there's no cop on my ass?

It's fine.

Oh. Ooh.

Please stay for a nightcap.

Yeah. I thought that's what we were doing.

Den… Den's that way.

I think ice is this way, okay?
Den's that way.

I took a bunch of shit
for having the estate sale so soon.

No one had the balls to say it to my face,
but it got back to me.

A lot of this junk reminded me
of the night Dale did it.

I was out on the couch.

Dale?

It was a stupid thing to do.

And selfish.

I got some videos. You wanna watch?

Look at her.
Look at her, look at her. Yeehaw!

She's hot.

- Yeah, she is hot.
- Whoa, ma'am!

She's not as hot as you though.
You're smoking up there.

You know,
seriously, Rodeo Queens…

…we always get lumped in
with those beauty pageant bitches.

-Mm-hmmm.
-And all they do is stand there

-and look pretty.
-Mm-hmmm.

We gotta ride and wrangle…
-Mm-hmmm.

…with a lot of hair spray.

And you were the belle
of the ball.

Yeah. Well, that was the fun part.

But there was another side of Avant
that I'm glad I got away from.

Yeah, there's always
another side.

Yeah. A lot of those boys,
they ended up dead or in prison.

-You stay in touch with any of them?
-Who?

You know, the old Avant gang.

What business would I have with them?

What's this fucking stranger doing
in my house?

Bang.

Fucking shit.

Oh, no, I'm sorry.
But you're just… your face.

-No. No.
-I almost shit my pants just then.

That's not funny.

It was Dale's gun,
and I was gonna show it to you,

but then I just… I couldn't help it.

Come on. Dale's gun. It was a joke, Lee.

- Fucking scared me.
- Don't be mad.

Jesus.

-Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
-What are you doing?

Hey, it's loaded!

-What? No.
-Yes. It just went off!

All right. Well,
maybe there was a round left,

-but it's empty now, see?
-Don't!

Oh, God!

- No! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
- Oh, my God!

Jesus Christ!

-I'm putting this away, all right?
-Okay.

You are not allowed to touch this anymore.

Fun's over. It's over.

Calm down.

Hey.

Aw.

I'm sorry. Can we just… Can we just--

No. I don't know
what the fuck is going on.

-What?
-I don't.

-What?
-Like, it's gotten weird. Yeah.

I said I was sorry.
And I wouldn't bullshit you.

You've been bullshitting me
all night.

About what?

About finding Dale's body, for one.

That was bullshit.

Yeah.

You're going to tell me what I saw?

We both know
that he did not commit suicide.

How would you know that?

Couple nights before he's found dead,

two guys break in here
and try to murder him.

Oh, that's a coincidence.
What? He didn't mention that?

Yeah, well…

He did. But I didn't believe him.

You don't understand
how he was at the end.

Well, help me. Help me understand.

He was paranoid.

He thought everyone was out to get him
including me and his brother.

But how did you know about those guys?

I know that you and Donald
are having an affair.

-Hmm? Oh, yeah. I do.
-Uh…

Was it his idea to kill him? Hmm? Was it?

No! D-D-Donald loves him.

-Yeah? Then what was the big fight about?
-Big fight?

The big fight about the land.

-About Indian Head Hills.
-I'm not sure about--

-Betty Jo, I'm trying to help you out.
-They have a bunch of property.

-I really don't know the details.
-You're fucking your husband's brother.

-You have a big fight about land.
-Oh, God.

-And then he's found murdered?
-No.

All right? It's not a good look.

-Goddamn it!
-What? What?

The fight wasn't really about land.

And telling Dale wasn't my fault.

Telling Dale what?

Pearl isn't his daughter.

She's Donald's.

What a fucking mess.

I met Donald first. Fell in love.

Golden boy and a small-town slut.
Never gonna happen.

I knew Dale.

And I really liked him.

He was a sensitive, odd guy.

Gay as the day is long.

And his family was just so desperate
for him to marry a woman.

Later, when Donald got me pregnant,

I fixed it
so that Dale thought Pearl was his.

I got him drunk one night.

Bull's-eye.

It worked out for everyone.

I was close to Donald. Dale had his cover.

And Dale loved Pearl.

So much.

They were best friends.

It was why I never wanted him to know.

Why did Donald finally tell him?

Well…

it was…

When they had the fight,
Pearl's name came up.

Who had her best interests in mind, and…

Donald was just at the end of his rope,
and I guess he blurted it out.

A most vile provocation.

It was the worst thing
he could say to him.

And I get why Dale hated us at the end.

Does Pearl know?

You probably think
I'm a terrible person, don't you?

You just did what you had to do.

Question is, what do you do now?

Thank you for the company this evening.

It was the most fun I've had in years.

- Hey.
- Yeah.

Um…

Listen, uh…

There's something I got to tell you.

I dumped something in the river.

And I need your help cleaning it up.

Can we meet?

Why don't you drive on
out this morning?

Oh, my God.

Yeah.

Oh.

Oh.

This will help.

You're welcome.

Mmm.

Wow… …that's nice.

Ooh.

Some guys really came here to get Dale?

Yep, they sure did.

Who were they?

Couple of shitheads.

I thought he was making it up.

No. Somebody killed him.

You don't still think I did?

No.

But somebody did.

Okay.

You don't think Donald might have?

What do you think? Huh?

-Nothing.
-Come on. What?

-No, I'm stoned.
-Mm-mmm.

You're thinking something.

I don't know. Donald just…

He hasn't been himself lately…

and he won't see me anymore.

And he's trying
to take this house away from me.

But I think
he's gonna change his mind anyway.

A more cynical person
might think you were trying to use me.

No, no.

-Me?
-Yeah.

No, how would I use you?

I don't know. You given me a bunch of dirt
about a… man running for governor. Huh?

No. Seriously.

It would be worse for Pearl,
and I don't want that out there, okay?

But you know what, Lee?

Hmm? What?

If I'm gonna shake down anyone,
it ain't gonna be the Washbergs.

-No?
-Mm-mmm.

They're what you call a cash poor family.

But I am using you for something.

Oh, boy.

On I-44, we have an update…

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fuck.