All language subtitles for Perpetual Grace, LTD - 01x09 - The Elements of an Epiphany.NTb.Trans.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Don't release DeLoash.

You're too late, Brown.

Petitioning for passport?

I am.

Purpose?

Visit an old friend.

Donny... he's out.

Where is he?

Drawing nearer, while trying
to find money for a gun.

You just won $5,000 in the Cash Cab!

What's your name?

Donald DeLoash.

It buzzed, motherfucker.

I told you I was gonna kill you.

You're living in your last moment.

I'm Paul Brown.

New Leaf, you can still be a
LensCrafters... store... man...

if you let us...

run over your parents, Denise and Kevin,

with a vehicle hauler...

Wait. What?

Rewind that shit.

Dad, I need to talk to you.

I'm trying to do something good,

then something bad happened.

How many kids did the
fire-trainee guy have?

11.

Soon I will be 11
girls' secret benefactor.

I will add light to their lives.

Are we gonna bring your
mother and father's bodies

home from Mexico

so we can bury them properly, Paul?

For the funeral.

We are.

In three days, we'll be dealing with

the governmental Department
of Health and Human Services.

Run away with me.

Let's go up to your room.

You can fuck my socks off.

- Did you find him?
- Yeah.

- But then I let him go.
- Where is he?

I don't know, man, anymore.

But I do know he had
his wife and my gun.

So, yeah, man.

Sorry. I'm out.

- So, you're out?
- Yeah.

And Pa's out in the world.

With my gun.

Fuck.

Let's go to the barbershop.

Where the fuck have you been?

_

The older boys?

The Rough Boys? Richard?

Yeah. I wish to kill Richard.

No, that's not what we wish to do.

We wish to kill Nigel.

- Nigel?
- Yeah, all right.

Nigel gifts me his pudding.

All right, but you see, if
we get a go at a Rough Boy,

a Richard, there's a next Rough Boy,

next Richard to revenge us.

The situation don't change.

You don't change the situation.

We kill Nigel, we change the situation.

We kill Nigel, we lack rhyme.

We lack reason. We lack logic.

We're unnatural, unanticipatable.

Ominous, illogical, monstrous, awful.

Strange, Byron.

Which it gets you left alone, this...

This makes us safer.

So we wish to kill Nigel.

Yeah, all right, Donny.

Nigel.

There's no story. Miss.

There's no tale to this.

I went at him.

My son?

Yes. I went at him, Miss.

Before he went.

I went before he went.

I was raised in a room like this.

In a room full of beds.

In a room full of boys.

Across the sea. Across...

many, many number of years.

The arrangement of these beds,

the... shapes here. This...

These rectangles around me here...

I feel fear.

Miss.

From these shapes.

I'm shaken. Memory-wise.

By the arrangement of this room, Miss.

In long rows like these

I was put bottomwise.
And held bottomwise.

I choked beneath boys.

I fought from the floor
to breathe beneath them.

The bad place to fight from, the floor.

The bad place to fight.

Then I murdered a child
who showed me kindness.

I believe he was age 7. Possibly 8.

Though no older. As he
was in the little grade.

With me. In the little grade.

On the fourth bed from the
easternmost window, I recall,

we killed him.

Your son wasn't a gentle Nigel.

You son didn't gift
me his pudding, Miss.

And he clashed.

My path. Like Nigel.

He clashed with me
on my path. And I his.

I clashed his path. Clash.

Wouldn't have.

Would be far away, Miss.

You wouldn't know my name or face.

No clash. Our paths.

But someone forced me wayward. Into you.

And caused this.

Clash.

And I want to survive this...

circumstance I'm in with you and them,

so that I may return home
and kill this young man,

I believe best with a ball bat.

An aluminum American ball bat.

_

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♪ Perpetual Grace,The Elements of an Epiphany 00:08:28,018
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- www.addic7ed.com -

Fishing?

Yeah. With Everly.

Everly Pirdoo?

Yeah.

He never mentioned that.

I had him here. In that chair.

Well...

he was drunk for most of it.

You never left Kilroy County?

No.

These last few days?

No. Why would I?

Letter.

To your Uncle Dave.

Not actually your Uncle.

A ward of the state,
convicted child molester.

A letter about a child.

A child named Theresa Sincere Williams.

Texan. And murder victim.

Case file 3-1-11-2543.

Department of Special Investigations

Ranger Division State Police.

"In two days,

I'm going to make a
little girl disappear."

She loved magic. Like me.

Magic.

It's an art form.

Like music. Or dancing. Or...

People are drawn to it.

Like Theresa.

Like me.

And that's what we had in common.

That's all.

I think she drowned, man,

just trying to...

Just trying to be good at it.

Wesley?

Yeah.

A word? Outside.

I'll only be a moment, Paul.

Only a moment,

and when I come back...

Yeah?

Let's see you do a magic trick.

How about that?

Whatcha thinking?

About what?

About the vehicle hauler
hitting your parents situation.

New Leaf. For the funeral.

I'm working that out. As we stand here.

Why'd you take your
dad's money? Way back.

During that story you
told me. First time.

He thought...

always I was lacking.

And then I tried to impress
him with a hot stock tip.

He laughed at me.

Then I stole most of his money

and invested it in the hot stock tip

to triple it.

Then I lost it all.

You have a cool name, by the way.

I'm changing it. But thanks.

To what?

Space Junk.

Why?

Because I'm space junk.

"Wow, man, fuck,

Luke Steel totally outsmarted
the Crazy Fucking Old Guy.

And got out of that crazy shit.

And now Luke was back

in the arms of his normal family

which has a cool wife
in it and two sons.

Oh, how Luke learned his lesson,

assisted by the crazy old fuck

with lessons of love.

Lovely lessons of bird style love.

And the fear left

Luke Steel ripped

and really jacked up physique.

And drifted off his awesome physique

out their open bedroom window,

past the bedroom window

of his two fucking sons he loved.

Goodbye, fear. You motherfucker.

Don't come back. Only
love lives here now.

And also a lot of, you
know, fucking relief

lives here now, too, because
Luke didn't get caught up

doing all the stupid shit he was doing.

Love and relief.

Love and relief. I'm out.

"Violence? In my house? Violence?

Adiós", exclaimed Luke in his mind.

Hey, Speedy.

Fuck.

Wesley, you have to wrap up

your investigation here.

You can't keep holding
people in this building.

This building is unsound.

I'm not saying your case is unsound.

But the place for you to
do this is Texas, Wesley.

This place could cave in.

And...

And what?

And, well, it's time to go.

Wesley. I'll give you one more day.

Yeah.

That's pretty good.

Yeah,

that's pretty good.

Why don't you come back down.

I need to take that
thing off your leg now.

_

Paul Allen Brown.

Son of Byron.

Paul Allen Brown. Son of Lillian.

Paul Allen Brown.

Inheritor of my wealth.

Get the old man back, or I'm
gonna have to show your wife

that cool pic.

Go get him.

I'm just a sheriff.

In the era of the cartel.

I don't even load my gun.

Jesus.

Hello, Paul.

Hey. Fuck.

Paul.

Yeah.

Paul, it's time we had a
very serious conversation.

About life and death.

A human body,

well, the bodies of every living thing.

We're constituted

by cool molecules, Paul.

And these cool molecules

cycle through the universe, bro,

lifting and falling,

in constant, changing forms,

for all time.

But there is a period, a sad period

in the aftermath of the electricity,

in the aftermath of our electricity

that the body,

well, it decays.

And it is then, as ever,

that you, in this form, may
do harm to the greater world

without intending it exactly,

and it's my role to take
you through this time

and to ensure your safe
passage into a later form,

during which you will harm nothing.

You will simply pass gently
into this later form innocent,

become earth and light and rain.

I'm saying, Paul, I got to
get my hands on those bodies.

Before they're toxic as shit.

And it better be tomorrow, my man.

Or I got to file a
request for an interdiction

with our United State's
Department of Health, Paul.

They're en route.

Got to be tomorrow, bro.

Yep.

En route?

- Yep.
- Very well.

Yep.

Hector, we don't have much time.

You have to go after the old man.

First I thought you were
looking out the window.

Then I realized

you were reading the news...

... like it was news.

Yesterday's.

Yesterday's what?

Yesterday's news.

Like it was news.

To you.

It is news to me.

Owing to?

A long period of isolation, Ranger.

That's what they call you?

That's the appellation... Ranger?

Or is it Detective?

Either.

You like, uh,

one more than the other?

I do.

You prefer Detective. I bet.

Detective.

That's true. I do.

You know how I detected that?

You probably figured

I'm precise.

From over there.

I did.

From right over here.

Precisely attired.

Precisely seated. Groomed.

Ranger's broad.

Detective's precise.

Precisely conveys the
nature of your work.

So, yeah...

I figured.

To detect.

But how did you know I was either one?

Ranger or...

Oh, the gun.

Well...

there's no haircut in store for me here.

Not in this store...

or most of the others. In town.

Most are papered over.

You could read this whole town.

Have a walk around.

Get the latest.

That saloon... that's hopping.

That's a hopping place.

That's the only hopping place.

The Pastor owns it.

I found out.

Byron Brown.

The Pastor owns the bar. In town.

How about that.

Yeah...

How about that?

How do you find a gun...

you find a guy who has one.

Then you take it from
him one way or another.

You find someone in this town of news

who's the baddest news.

- You just find the Bad News.
- _

And you follow him to it.

If you want glasses, you
have to go over to McCallen.

McCallen. For eyewear.

I have my own.

Then what?

Then what do I want?

Yeah, what do you want?

I want a gun.

Sporting goods store. Sport.

I'm an Englishman.

Yeah, I gathered that.

Former felon. As well.

I won't be going to your sporting store.

Well, I'm not selling guns.

So... cheerio.

Nobody says that.

Okay.

Fuck off then... Jack.

How about that?

How about the gun?

What gun?

- Your gun.
- My gun?

Yeah. Or another one. I don't care.

Where are you from?

Far away.

Let's just have it.

Have what?

A gun.

Tracy Connelly.

New Leaf.

I don't understand what you're saying.

New Leaf. Is my name.

Not a name.

Okay.

Stupid philosophy.

Okay.

I read about you.

On the walls of your old pool hall.

And on your cracked up pancake house.

And on a shop that I think sold flowers.

Once.

Read about your many offenses.

What age?

Tracy?

Did you go away?

From the rest?

17.

Over?

Over what?

Over what matter were
you removed from society?

Over the matter of killing someone.

Sheeps and wolves in there?

Yeah. There were.

In there.

That's all there were in there.

I'm neither.

So what are you?

I'm the weather.

So let's have the gun.

I'll leave you $1,000.

Let's have it.

I don't remember anybody

in the whole span telling me what to do.

Indians. Mexicans.

Or black dudes.

I'm supposed to listen to you?

You sold guns before?

I sell every shit. To everyone.

I scrap.

I sold a gun Thursday.

Now? What?

You don't do that anymore?

It resounds.

In the universe. My hand...

hand in violence.

And my mom and dad are in it now,

in the universe, I'm saying.

So cheerio.

Fucker.

I'm saying.

Any other killings?

Yes.

Why?

Guy called my pop a P.

A P?

That's for pussy.

Your pop was a pussy.

Never. Called that. Me.

The weather.

Never called that.

If your pop lived the
invitation to the word,

your pop was the word.

Your father was a pussy.

Many people...

most people

would now say, "What did you say?"

As that provides them,
th... the timeframe

of the asking of that
unnecessary question,

provides them a stall
to gather themselves.

To defuse the direct electricity

of that provocation.

But I'm not gonna say,

"What did you say?"

Because I fucking heard you.

And I don't need to gather myself.

As I am already gathered.

I walk around gathered.

So...

I'm just gonna ask you if
you want me to shoot you

in your cock, your heart, or your face.

Old Man.

My pop's in that window.

In his later form.

He's the rain.

And he can hear you.

And he can see me.

And I'm not gonna raise my hand again.

I'm gonna bury this gun
in some unknown earth.

Yes, sir. I'm not tired anymore.

Not deep enough. Son.

You caused violence.

You're resound.

All the way across the universe.

You can't turn that down. Now.

Now, give me the gun.

Go bury your head somewhere.

Leave that.

You've sold them before.

So what?

So what,

New Leaf?

I'm Space Junk.

I think we're moving
along. With the thing.

Hey, if we can just get a
couple more things together.

Like, uh...

the bodies thing.

That would be good.

James. Some things I can't do, man.

That's like asking me
to a dainty tap dance

or make a timeless ice sculpture.

Or fly.

I believe you can fly.

All the way high into the sky.

Not, like, really, but in ways.

I believe you can fly.

Fuck.

Just...

Just what?

Just fuck.

Nothing else.

Okay.

Well, let's... let's talk tomorrow.

Okay.

Probably first thing in
the morning we should talk,

'cause we really need the
bodies of your beloved parents.

Okay.

Because this ghost man,
reappearing undertaker,

he cannot wait

to get his fucking hands
on some bodies, man.

_

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I didn't know that about the beds.

I didn't want you to.

I didn't know about the pudding boy.

I didn't want you to.

This was the shape of the
room I grew up in, too.

Thank you, Byron.

For protecting me for
almost all my whole life.

Thank you for keeping me safe.

I love you, Byron.

I love you, Lillian.

_

Aw. Shit.

I'm sorry.

Oh. Man. Wow.

Shit.

Okay. Well.

I'm just gonna, like...

wander off.

Okay. Goodbye.

Maybe I'll just live here.

I'm just gonna live in
the glass of my mistake.

I'm going to live on the glass,

and let it, like...

Nice.

Man, I think I'm going crazy.

_

Hi.

Are you the astronaut who lost his mind

then wanders around Austin?

So there's a chance you are.

Say a 50-50.

Okay?

Hey.

My friend James is a special boy.

He's the leader of my gang of
supportive nonviolent friends.

And they're all doing cool shit
to help each other right now.

Except me.

So I came here to help James,

'cause he's your son,

and he calls you,

and you don't answer.

That's fucked up.

And I wanted to talk
to you about the future.

Okay.

The future is now plus one second.

In the future, everything
can be different,

but you don't have
to wait for jet packs.

Everything could be different
now plus one second.

You can be his father again...

now plus one second.

Because I think he needs help.

James says you don't like earth,

but that's where you live, dude.

And so does your son.

Stop being a pussy.

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