All language subtitles for Damnation.S01E03.HDTV.x264-KILLERS[ettv]

Previously, on "Damnation"...

These Black Legion men
claim to be defending

the American way of life.

There's a strikebreaker.

He killed Sam right in
front of his own boy.

My son's in jail. And now this.

The bank foreclosed on your farm?

Whatever it takes to bring
those sons of bitches down.

Creeley managed to kill
the farmers' leader

and pass it off as self-defense.

Just why are we trying to
bankrupt these farmers?

Are any of you men the leader
of this miners' strike?

- Daddy!
- Oh, my poor dear child.

Come to me.

The cowboy... he's targeting me.

You keep an eye on him.

What's the cowboy really after?

I don't do nothing for free.

Seth ever told you
anything about his past?

See, I tried warning her about Seth too.

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Boy's got his father's swing.

Darling, if you had Stanley's swing,

you wouldn't be loading
trucks for a living.

No, I'd be patrolling centerfield

for the St. Louis Cardinals.

Can you get them the cream
sodas from the shed?

What cream sodas? We can't afford that.

A case may've slipped
off one of the trucks.

You are such a pill.

Hustle up, boys!

We got you a special treat.

Cream soda? Oh, boy.

Thanks, Dad.

You got it, buddy.

If this isn't the American dream,

I don't know what is.

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Are you okay in there?

Pete and Pam's bodies aren't even cold

and the bank's already at it.

Well...

can't let a little thing
like death get in the way

of turning a profit.

Think that strikebreaker'll show up

at the Collingsworth farm auction?

He doesn't have the nerve.

So...

have you two crossed paths
from before we met?

- I don't like to talk about my past.
- Talk about your past, yes,

and I don't like to cook, but I do it.

Sort of.

Look...

it doesn't matter either way.

I'm not the man I used to be.

What'd you find?

A lot of strikes going on.

Must be working.

I'm thinking the girls and
I ought to join together

and unionize this whorehouse.

Open it.

Let me guess.

Your one true love

was wearing something like this
the last time you saw her,

pulling down the wash
in the summer rain?

Just put it on.

Yes, sir.

So who am I pretending to be right now?

A respectable woman. How's it feel?

Unfamiliar.

Then don't get used to it.

But you don't understand.

It's our family Bible.

Do you have a bill of sale to prove it?

We've had it for ages.

At least pretend to be human
and give the woman her Bible.

Preacher, I would love nothing more.

But I'm legally required

to include this item in
the Collingsworth estate,

which has substantial debts to my bank.

But this young lady is as free as anyone

to bid on it at the auction.

It's what I told Mayor Dibble years ago.

You can't outlaw human appetites.

People will gamble and drink.

And fornicate.

But you can control those appetites.

Contain them.

That's what my side businesses

are really all about, Jelly Roll.

Civil stability, hmm? Here.

I speculate some folks suspect

I'm losing my grip on this town.

That's not the case at all.

I'm simply playing the percentages.

Winter will be coming down soon enough.

And this farmer strike
will end on its own,

without me offending the
farmers or the townsfolk

in an election year.

It's like Edna always said:

my capacity for compromise
may very well be

my greatest strength.

Hey, keep an eye on these farmers.

They've killed once.
They'll do it again.

Why are you reading Gertrude
Stein at a farm auction?

It's Ernest Hemingway.

Mm, yes, impersonating Gertrude Stein.

So are you gonna report
on all of this or not?

I'm here, aren't I?

You don't get points for showing up.

Now, we've got ourselves
what appears to be

a real deal heirloom Bible.

Bids open at $1.

- $1.
- $1.

Well, I'll be. The word
of God is still alive.

Let's hop ourselves on up to $5.

- Five.
- We've got one bid at five,

how about six?

Going once. Going twice.

She bids six.

We got six.

How about seven? Do we hear...

$10.

Hoo boy.

- Ten U.S. dollars.
- She bids 11.

11.

- Do we have 12?
- I bid 12.

$12.

Going once. Going twice.

How about two crisp $20 bills?

Going once.

Going twice.

Sold!

Now, see, the banks... they don't enjoy

foreclosing on your farms
any more than you would.

But it's what must be done

to protect your hard-earned savings.

So, Mrs. Collingsworth,
please accept this gift

on behalf of your friends
at Holden Savings & Trust.

Thank you.

Now, ladies and gentlemen,

you must allow the
American financial system

to do its great democratizing work.

So please continue with
your patriotic duty.

Thank you. Ladies?

We've got an unused baby crib.

What was that?

- Public relations.
- Or so you imagine.

You were bidding against our own man.

Dr. Eggers Hyde says right
here in this letter.

I see.

Let's go.

Do I hear $1.50?

How about $1.50?

How does it feel to go around
town with a psychopath?

You tell me.

At least I'm getting paid for it.

Congratulations on your bargain, sir.

Up next, I have here a
gently used gramophone...

Ow, why'd you do that?

Because I'd prefer not
to travel in the company

of a barbarian she-child.

Place your fork between
your index finger and thumb

and modestly raise each bite, like so.

But I'm hungry.

You are also a young lady,

so you will be judged every
moment of your life.

I just want to eat some food.

And the world doesn't give a
lick about you or your wants.

What the world cares about

is maintaining an agreeable
semblance of order.

If you help maintain
that semblance of order,

you can do what you like.

But if you disrupt it, the
world will come after you.

Just like it did with your
father and his friends.

Like this?

Approximately.

Now try it with a
modestly ladylike smile.

I'm glad to see some people

are raising their children properly.

You flatter us. Thank you.

And that's how you get to the bad men.

You let them see what they want to see,

and then you cut them down.

Go on, try again.

Better.

But you still have some distance to go

if people are to believe we are kin.

Kin?

You are to call me mother.

And I will call you dear child,

and together, you and
I will rid this land

of all its bad men.

- Thank you.
- See you tomorrow.

So this is how the
strikebreaker's gonna operate...

playing chickenshit games
in public, using proxies.

How long are you going to pretend

you don't know the man
sent here to stop us?

I don't know him.

Like you don't know her?

Where'd you get that?

That strikebreaker you claim not to know

gave it to me at our kitchen table.

Did he threaten you?

He warned me.

What'd he tell you about me?

He said that

killing was your God-given gift.

And that he tried warning her too.

Who is she?

Look, this is what the
strikebreaker wants...

to divide us, to weaken us.

That's not an answer.

Thank you for coming.

Hope to see you at tomorrow's auction.

You can work, and work, and work,

and then some fool in a suit

will come along and steal it all away.

And he won't even know
what it is he's stealing.

Martha, they're not
gonna steal this farm.

We're not gonna let it happen.

God won't let it happen.

So now God's gonna show up?

Maybe he can... he can show
us how to stop these banks,

how to be one body again.

But until he does, maybe we should

pack up your valuables and keepsakes

before the auctioneer arrives.

"Once these farm auctions
commence, you may notice

"a man in a blue suit with
considerable resources.

"His name is Tuck Tandy.

"Do make sure he's allowed

"to buy up these farms on our behalf.

"Freely employ Mr. Turner

"if the unwashed masses
prove rambunctious.

Signed, Martin Eggers Hyde, Ph.D."

Buying up farms on whose behalf?

I don't know. Doesn't matter.

Where to next?

Sheriff's office.

I usually like to employ
the local authorities

when things start heating up.

Besides, it's about time the
sheriff and I pat hands

and better coordinate
our self-interests.

Good luck.

I don't think the sheriff likes you.

Who do you think that is?

Oh, God. It's the Black Legion.

They're gonna kill us.

- Look, I'm gonna handle this.
- Handle it.

People like them kill people like me.

No, they don't when you're with me.

Okay, look.

You take this, all right?

You got a gun and a gas pedal,

and if this thing goes south,
you use both, you hear me?

You're gonna get yourself killed.

You underestimate just
how charming I can be.

Afternoon, fellas!

Y'all must be the, uh,
local welcoming committee.

I'm so glad that we have
this opportunity to discuss

the importance of
traditional American...

values.

Oh, looks like we're
gonna have some fun.

Where are we going?

Come again, dear child?

Where are we going, Mother?

Detroit, Michigan.

There's some bad man
there keeping good men

from working their jobs and
providing for their families.

Nothing more important than family.

Was my daddy a bad man or a good man?

I did not know him.

He was nice to me.

He'd sing me to sleep every night.

He must've been good.

Why are you sad?

I miss my daddy.

Oh, hush up now.

Being sorry never helped anyone.

Look at me.

Two years ago, a bad man
tied up my husband Leonard

inside a car and set it on fire

so he would burn to death.

And here I am,

pleasant as you please.

Have you finished your pie?

Good.

It's time to leave.

♪ There was an old man
who lived on the hill ♪

♪ If he ain't moved away
he's a-livin' there still ♪

♪ Singing fie diddle-eye,
diddle-eye die ♪

♪ Diddle-eye, diddle-eye day ♪

Here to cause a ruckus?

I just need to talk to Sam Jr.

Nah, he's busy.

How are they treating you?

Fine...

when the Sheriff's here,
but when it's just him...

I said he's busy.

And I deeply respect your authority.

Preacher, don't make me do somethi...

What are you doing?

Chatting with Sam Jr., as
previously established,

so do give us a moment's privacy.

Where I come from, men
like you die pretty easy.

If he touches you again,

get word to me and I'll take care of it.

Sure thing, Preacher.

The bank's gonna try to auction
off your farm tomorrow.

No, we're gonna stop them.

And then we'll get you out of here.

I don't know how we're
gonna do it, but we will.

All right, I believe you.

Your father was a good man.

I'm sorry for...

well, everything.

Now, that wasn't so hard, was it?

You can't get away with this.

Of course I can.

Or do you want the whole
wide county to know

that the local preacher
stripped you of your weapon?

Slow afternoon.

Where's your handsome tumbleweed?

Probably out roaming where his business

ain't being peeped upon.

Don't be a mark, Bess.

He's just another john.

All you Jews, Catholics, immigrants,

and miscegenating perverts
can have the cities.

But you're gonna leave our towns alone.

Where you from?

- California?
- No.

Cleveland?

Wyoming.

Wyoming?

Do y'all like to ride around town

with negroid whores in Wyoming?

Well...

just...

focus on the questions at hand.

Is that where you got your
taste for darker meat?

Well, that's my business.

Sure it is.

Just like it's a farm boy's
business if he likes to

sneak out to the barn and stick it

in his favorite heifer.

But if that farm boy then dresses up

his favorite heifer in a frilly dress

and takes her out for
an afternoon drive,

rubbing all of our faces in it...

No, sir.

Then it becomes all our business.

- That's right.
- Don't you get it?

All those so-called farmers are starting

a commie uprising right
under your noses.

What are you talking about?

All the town's farmers

are organizing and
agitating according to...

tried and true European
Marxist principles.

I don't like how you talk.

Suppose I can let you see
my face now, Wyoming.

You're prettier than I thought.

Oh, you're funny.

Because just one of two
things is gonna happen.

Oh, yeah? What?

Either you agree to leave this town

and take your pet negroid with you,

or you slip off this rickety
old crate and hang.

Whichever comes first.

We'll give you a few
minutes to think about it.

Or maybe a few days.

Something on your mind, Raymond?

Uh...

not really, Uncle Sheriff Don.

I think I just got the autumnal blues.

It appears our guests find
your autumnal blues...

Rather amusing.

Good afternoon, Ma.

Yeah, I don't have time
for your moods, Raymond.

Early supper?

Fresh from the kitchen.

What have you been able
to dig up on our cowboy?

Eh, eat first.

- Is that...
- Oh, yes, Donald,

that is a genuine human turd.

A retired school principal
from Council Bluffs

paid $2.75 to pinch that sucker off

while three of my girls watched.

And why would you...

I brought this turd here as a symbol.

Firstly as a symbol of
what we'll all have to eat

if this farmer strike
continues on your watch.

Della, you do realize
this is an election year?

Oh, and secondly,

as a symbol of what you will
be in my eyes if you run off

this cowboy who just
might turn out to be

the best paying customer of my
long and illustrious career.

So have you been...

Spying on him like you asked? Yes.

I have.

But no longer.

It's unethical.

He caught you, didn't he?

The cowboy is not interested in you

and your side businesses.

He just wants to stop the damn strike.

Let him do it.

Or better yet, help him.

It's not that simple.

And it's not that hard.

This is what you always do, Donald.

You overthink yourself into
making the wrong choice.

Such as?

Such as choosing my
miserable bitch of a sister

over the woman that you actually loved.

I'd reconsider it.

What are you thinking?

If we put our savings
together with the Rileys,

we're only up to $153.

On a $900 farm loan.

The only way we can raise
the money is if we load up

all the Riley corn and drive it
to another county and sell it.

Prices are still higher
across the county line.

If we bust our own strike,
this whole thing is over.

The entire plan is to rally
the farmers and workers here

in Holden and then grow the
movement from town to town,

state to state.

This whole thing is over

if we let the strike leader's
family lose their farm.

We may need to contact your family.

What do you know about my family?

Nothing, but between
your taste in clothing,

your education, and your manners,

I'm pretty sure you didn't come up poor.

My family's not an option.

Why not?

Are you really gonna sit there

and ask me questions about my past?

If we don't do something,
that bank is gonna take away

everything the Rileys have worked for.

And he won't stop with them.

Then we need to start
thinking like that banker.

Instead of trying to raise money,

maybe we should figure out how to

keep the auction prices
low enough so that

farmers have a chance to
buy their farms back.

You mean fix the auction prices?

Yeah.

I can think of one way to
change Calvin Rumple's mind.

Call the farmers.

I have an idea.

After the events

of the Collingsworth farm auction,

it has become clear to Amelia and I

that a different approach
needs to be taken here.

Since we began, we have
been met with anger,

intimidation, and violence.

Why don't you come inside?

What, and interrupt the prayer circle?

Mm.

As you can see, we have two tables here.

What's going on?

Come to the Riley farm
tomorrow and find out.

We're gonna show this town the...

power hidden inside the word of God.

An eye for an eye. This is war.

All right, boys.

Let's get some weapons into some Bibles.

Who's a good boy?

Hell, Bess. Get in, get in.

You know you cannot just
waltz up to my house.

Creeley was ambushed
by the Black Legion.

Oh, good.

Now, that cowboy's been
nothing but a pain in my ass.

I've been driving all
night looking for him.

I know where they've got him.

You're speaking like this is
a disagreeable development.

He might still be alive.

You don't actually care
for this cowboy, do you?

What in the world do you see in him?

Well, he is the one man in this town

who looks at me like I'm
an actual human being.

All right, boys, fun's over.

Clear out the side door.

I don't want to know who you are

any more than you want me to.

I see you've found the actual
heart of middle America.

I'm glad we're having this
chance to talk again.

I so enjoyed our prior discussions.

I have to piss.

I can't help you there.

I operate in a bit of a
hands-off philosophy.

Get me down.

Who's forgetting their manners?

Questions first.

Who are you working for?

I already told you,

the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

Oh, that's right. Now, uh...

Calvin Rumple hire you?

Yes.

Calvin's a meddling fish
in an undersized pond.

So who're you really working for?

What mighty business interests
are you protecting?

I work on behalf of American
security and prosperity.

Care to get it any more
specific than that?

Not if I want to live.

And do you?

Want to live?

The impulse comes and goes.

I know what you mean.

Oh, hey, those spurs
certainly do jingle jangle.

I could so easily stand
here and watch you die.

Careful where you poke
that snout, cowboy.

We're not as simple as
we look around here.

I thought you were gonna let me die.

If it was up to me, I would have.

Where's Preacher Seth
and all the farmers?

Prayer circle. They'll be here soon.

Help us keep an eye out for
the strikebreaker until then.

So who exactly are you
buying this farmland for?

Dr. Hyde?

You don't have to worry about that.

Just make sure I can buy it.

I'll presume you're not going
to stand there and let that

preacher and his farmers
disrupt this auction.

I certainly won't.

If you try any shenanigans...

We've only come here to bless
this farm, Deputy Berryman.

We've brought nothing with
us but the holy word of God.

all: Amen!

I'd suggest allowing us through.

Unless you and your uncle
want to go in the record

as being against God-fearing Christians.

Good morning, everyone.

Perhaps you should try taking
bids on the entire farm.

All at once. Get this over with.

Fine by me.

The quicker I can get back
to civilization, the better.

- Hm.
- You heard him.

Very well, then.

We'll open bids on the
entire Riley farm.

House, barn, stock, and equipment.

One penny.

How much?

One penny.

For the entire farm
and everything on it.

Now, I don't mean to be insulting, Mrs.
Riley, but...

Then take her bid.

Don't move. Don't squeal.

Preacher?

Just do as I say.

Brothers and sisters,
those of you with Bibles,

please open them now.

Hey!

I've always liked you, Raymond,

but don't make me choose
between you and family.

Keep your weapon down.

Now ask if there's a higher bid.

Our first bid is one penny.

Anyone care to outbid Ms. Riley?

This is absurd.

Sir? Do you make a bid?

No, I don't.

Finish it.

One penny for the Riley family farm.

Going once.

Going twice.

Sold.

To Martha Riley herself.

We did it!

I can't believe it.

Sam was right.

We can win.

I swear, Mr. Tandy,

Holden County isn't usually
a lawless madhouse.

What can we do?

You could start by arresting someone.

We're outnumbered.

Not for long.

That crazy bitch just
signed her death warrant.

"I am the good shepherd."

"The good shepherd giveth his life."

You should come join the rest of us.

It's not against the law
to celebrate a victory.

Her name was Cynthia Jo Rainey.

She played Chopin on her
grandmother's piano.

She loved to read from
Shakespeare's comedies

and this Bible.

She was my first glimpse
of goodness in this world.

And she's rotting in the ground
because of that strikebreaker.

Everything I'm doing, all of this,

is to right that wrong.

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