Original subtitles

And I says to him,

"Never again, Mr. President,

can we let the Chinese motorboat our tits like that."

I says, "Who's negotiating your treaties?"

Jimmy looks at me with that peanut farmer grin of his

and says, "Biff, you are now, friend,

"but don't you ever talk about motorboating titties

in front of the First Lady again."

Rosalynn blushes every time she sees Biff.

Dad, he's doing it again!

Biff Jr., kiddo, lay off your sister,

or no Six Million Dollar Man tonight, you hear me?

Your new boss lives here?

When you're the Under Secretary of State,

I imagine the world's your oyster, hon.

There's nothing to be nervous about.

It's Biff Simpson, hon.

He decides if I sink or swim this year.

You're Carl Hirsch, sweetheart.

He's lucky to even wade in the same pond as you.

Hirsch.

- You made it, my friend. - Wouldn't miss it, sir.

"Sir" is for Foggy Bottom. In my castle, I'm Biff.

Wow. Well, okay, then, Biff.

Oh. This here's my wife Helen.

Helen. What a beauty.

Geez, Hirsch.

You win her on Let's Make a Deal?

This is my new associate I was telling you all about.

Just moved down here from Boston.

Can I get you kids a wet one?

I'll take a Schlitz if you got. Hon?

Thanks. That's great.

- Hon? - You. It's you.

- It's you. - Hon, what's-what's going on?

It's him.

The Butcher. The Butcher.

It's the Butcher.

- Hon. - Well.

Gosh darn, Hirsch.

You didn't tell me your wife was one of them vegetarians.

The Butcher of Arlav.

The Butcher of Arlav!

Call the police. Call the police.

- Hey. Hey. - It's Muller.

- Please. Please call the police! - Helen, what on earth?

- Hon, what's going on? - I think she's having some kind of episode.

Hirsch, maybe she wants to lie down in the family room?

No. I remember you. I remember your face.

Why isn't anyone...? Please, please, he-he...

- He slaughter... he slaughtered my whole family. - You're scaring the kids, doll.

- Mrs. Simpson, I'm so sorry. - He killed my whole family.

- Hey, Helen... - He slaughtered them. He killed them all!

Geez, oh, man, this is, this is really something, Hirsch.

- Dad? Dad? - And in my own gosh darn home.

- I think I'd like you to leave now. - Stop him!

Halt im! Nazi!

Stop him! Stop him! Nazi!

- What's going on? - Halt im!

- Daddy? - Stop him!

- Dad? - Nazi!

Mr. Simp...

Wait, what are you doing? What is happening? Mr. Simpso...

No! Mr. Simps...

30 years of work that was.

An entire life built.

Marrying that American pig.

Siring three tainted swine.

How long I'd wanted to snap their little necks.

Well, their blood is on your hands, my girl.

Leave it to the Jew

to think only of its own pathetic existence.

You thought the war was over?

No, dear.

Only the dead know the end of war.

We're here now.

Everywhere.

We... we survived.

And we'll survive again.

You didn't survive.

You marinated.

I'm so glad I didn't gas you in the camps.

This is so much more delicious.

And what a hungry boy I've been.

What hungry boys and girls we've all been.

Heil Mein Fuhrer.

Sieg heil!

Nah, it was good.

It's just, why the hell does Darth Vader got to be black?

He-He's not black, Cheeks, he's-he's a Dark Lord.

- Oh, a Dark Lord? - Yeah.

Dude's got a black suit, dude's got a black mask.

And last time I checked, James Earl Jones

is sure as shit a brother.

We're always the motherfucking villain, man.

- And you know what? I see it. - Oh, here we go.

You think Vader's the villain, though?

- Yeah. - Are you serious, Jonah?

Every time Vader came on the screen,

Bootyhole pissed his husky boy pants.

Oh, fuck you, okay? Darth Vader killed tons of people.

Look, Vader did some bad shit.

I'm not saying that, not denying that.

Darth Vader wasn't born Darth Vader.

For all we know, he was born Chad Rubenstein.

Asthmatic, premature-ejaculating...

- Chad Rubenstein? - ...good-hearted loser.

- And he can talk about losers. - And...

like every kid in the Galactic Empire,

he was conditioned to believe that some evil Jedi rebels

from some desert shithole were gonna come bomb his parents,

behead his friends, kidnap all the hot Galactic chicks

for lightsaber orgies.

Vader doesn't get up...

...every day looking to destroy the galaxy.

No, no. He gets up every morning believing he needs to save it.

Yeah, but he's-he's still a murderer, dude.

- Exactly. - So is Batman, Booty.

- Oh... - So is fucking Batman.

He hanged a mental patient from the Batplane.

He-he crushed a guy's guts out with a car compactor.

Superman's slaughtered cities.

G... uh, Green Lantern took out a planet.

Uh, Orion the Space Slayer

fucking leveled a goddamn solar system.

The only difference between a hero and a villain

is who sells more costumes on Halloween.

Damn, how much of your Cheech you Chong, jiggy?

You know, I'd save some of that for your customers.

No, no, no. Chewbacca's like this.

- Hey, Carol. - Hey, Jonah.

Circle jerk run late, fuckheads?

Well, we kept picturing your face

and none of us could come.

You think you're funny, you fat shit?

Could hear the fucking nerd mating call from down the block.

First time, huh, Heidel-bitch?

Jesus, it's like doing a fucking heroin deal

with Mr. fucking Rogers. Come on.

Show me what you got.

Uh, yeah. Right.

Sell me on it.

S-Se-Sell you?

Uh... Yeah, man,

look, I-I'd try to sell you on it, but that'd be like...

like Buddha trying to hawk you a timeshare in Nirvana.

Ooh. Tagline and everything.

Okay, look, I do $15 per quarter.

Jew gets right to the bottom dollar, huh?

Just give me two ounces, shit-tard.

Okay, yep. That's, uh, $120.

I'll give you $60.

Dennis, stop. Come on.

Uh, no. Uh, look,

- I said it's $120, it's $120. - I don't think that you're understanding me.

- No. This isn't a negotiation. - And I don't speak little bitch.

So let me translate.

- Dennis. Dennis, stop. Come on. - Come on.

Give me my, give me my shit back.

Aw, you putting on a show for Carol

so she can see you act all tough? I mean,

you've had a hard-on for her for years, haven't you?

Guess what. She is never gonna suck your tiny kosher wiener,

- Art Gar-fuck-el. - Are you kidding me?

Give me my, give me my shit.

What the fuck are you gonna do, kike?

He's gonna cry.

- Give me my fucking bag back. - No, no...

- No. No, Dennis, stop. Stop. - Get the fuck off, dude.

What are you doing, asshole? Get off me, man.

- As soon as this little Jew bitch quits begging for more. - Stop. No. No!

Get off of me! Step the fuck off.

Dennis. Stop.

Just leave... Dennis. Stop. Enough.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Dennis, this is not cool, man.

You're an asshole, Dennis.

Carol.

- Carol. - You're a fucking asshole!

Stop.

- Hey, you okay? - Yeah, I'm fine.

...warning everyone to lock their doors.

I'll see you guys.

With the Son of Sam killer still terrorizing New York...

Jonah?

It's just me, Safta. I hung around for the double feature.

Did your black eye and bloody lip hang around, too, darling?

It looks worse than it is.

I'm thinking you need a stitch.

No. No, I won't.

- I don't know. - It's fine. Trust me.

- It looks bad. - Looks worse.

Go on. Eat some of this.

It heals all aches of the body and all matters of the soul.

Hmm.

That's some Walt Whitman shit right there.

You should write that down in one of your cookbooks.

How'd you know?

I'm your safta.

I know everything.

And Mrs. Schlosstein saw you walking on Avenue J.

She gave me a call right away.

Mm, the bubbeleh bat phone.

You think you're a big man for getting in a fight?

I was just defending myself.

Oh, don't touch, don't touch, don't touch.

I'll get a bandage.

What?

- What is this? - Hmm?

- A drug dealer? A criminal? - Oh, shit.

Safta.

- How could you? - Please.

- Please... - How could you?

This puts food on our table, okay?

This puts a roof over our heads.

I would rather starve on the street

than have my grandson be a thug.

Everything I do is for you.

You think I want to be doing this?

You don't think I want to be at some WASP college

we can't afford actually making something of myself?

I do this so we can survive.

Look. You were meant for more than this.

A brilliant mind.

You see things no one else can.

It's a gift from God, and this is how you use it?

To put this chazerai out into the world?

Ah, you're worried about the world. Well, the world

sure as shit's not worried about us.

Everything you do, it's a choice between licht un finster.

Light or darkness.

You must choose well.

Sometimes when you're trying to survive,

you don't have a choice.

There's always a choice.

Safta.

- Safta, I'm... - I love you.

I love you the most.

Everything I'm doing is for you.

You'll see soon enough.

How you doing, Carol...?

Okay, thanks.

How did you find me?

I won't ask you again.

You will be brought to justice.

How did you find me?

Go ahead, shoot, shoot.

I am not afraid.

You can't hide.

You can't hide.

You can't...

Safta!

Safta, Safta, what...? Oh, Jesus.

Safta, hey, stay with me, stay with me.

Stay... Help!

Help! Help!

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fuck.

Help!

Help, somebody! Help!

Please, call an ambulance!

451373rd Street, there's been a shooting.

Please, please come.

Safta, Safta, Safta, stay awake. Stay with me.

Please, please. Oh, God.

Stay with me, stay with me.

Stay with me, please.

Help! Help!

It's okay, stay with me. Stay with me.

No, no, no, no, no.

Oh, no. No.

No, no.

Please.

- Jonah... - NYPD.

Come on, Jonah.

Let me get you another shirt, son.

I don't want another shirt.

I've been here for fucking hours,

I just want to know what you found.

It looks like a robbery gone wrong.

But at the moment, we don't got much to go on.

I-I t... I told you, he was wearing black.

He had a hat on.

He left down the-the, uh, the alleyway and-and...

Fucking damn it. What fucking information do you need?

She-she shouted at him, she said, "You can't fucking hide."

Jonah, I can't put out a city-wide...

- She said, "You can't fucking hide." - I can't. Jonah, listen to me.

I can't put out a city-wide looking for a man

in a black hat.

I'm going to see that everything we can do gets done, okay?

But it's gonna take some time. The city's at war, son.

Sequence killers, the sex peddlers, drug runners, I...

Our boys are spread thin.

But I won't let up.

I promise.

17 Washington Lane.

Chevy Chase, Maryland.

Understood.

25.

Took you long enough.

I've been waiting all night.

Eh, do you know a four-letter word

for "bovine," exclamation?

What?

They would have blown my cover.

30 years I spent infiltrating this swamp:

D.C. strip clubs, Senate cloakrooms, the Oval Office.

And now, just weeks after our breakthrough,

you think I'd allow it all to be undone by a Juden cockroach?

Did I create unwanted noise?

Sure. But Uncle Sam won't suspect a thing.

Hell, I could goose-step the Electric Slide

on the National Mall, they wouldn't add it up.

These fools are too busy

believing their own people are the enemy;

they've blinded themselves to us.

Offer up a black man to blame,

you can get away with anything in America.

The neighbors didn't hear anything.

The jewelry's in the bedroom.

Oh, and with me dealing with this shit,

you need to pay Congressman Dick Marshall a visit.

This is what he needs to do.

Make sure he does it.

The Colonel made clear there's no room for failure.

So don't fuck up.

Understand?

Uh, how about the left arm?

So I can still... you know.

With my right.

Heck else am I gonna do in the hospital for a week?

Oh!

Fuck. Ah!

Jonah, only immediate family is supposed to sit shiva.

- Is that right, Mrs. Schlosstein? - Mm.

Well, if...

my safta's parents weren't shot in the ghetto...

sister wasn't killed in the camps,

her husband didn't die in Korea,

and her only kid didn't bleed out having me...

then they'd be here instead.

I'm all she had in this world, so I'm sitting for them.

So why don't you shut your gefilte-fish-stinking

fat fucking mouth?

"In a world of diarrhea and constipation,

it's okay to be a normal piece of shit sometimes."

Besides, Moira Schlosstein had it coming.

Meyer Offerman.

My deepest sorrows about your grandmother.

Ah.

How many broads I've been with.

Laughter is good medicine

in the worst of times.

Your grandmother taught me that.

How'd you know my grandmother?

Your safta and I were in the camps together.

In fact, I owe my life to her.

She didn't talk about the camps much.

What is there to talk about?

Hmm?

She lives through all that

just to be shot in her living room

by a fucking burglar.

Well, did-did you happen to hear his voice?

C-Catch his face?

No.

There are street lamps down that alley, no?

Did you see anything at all?

H-How did you know he came in through the alley?

Well, noticed that...

that the back door was boarded up.

So...

I suppose I watch too much Kojak in my old age.

A potato of the couch.

"You can't hide. You can't hide.

You can't hide."

That's what she said to him

right before he killed her.

"You can't hide." And it just... it sounded...

it sounded like she knew him.

- It sounded... - Personal.

Yeah.

I suppose every murder is personal.

Oh. I'm sorry.

I am sorry.

Well, I'm sure the police are on it.

Wise that we let them do their work.

Your grandmother was a fighter.

And I trust

it courses through your veins as well as hers.

But if you ever need anything...

money, assistance, anything at all...

you come to me.

This is not charity.

It's a debt I owe her.

You know,

you have an intimate relationship with death.

But know it not to be a curse but a blessing.

One that will bring you closer to life.

As the Talmud tells us,

"Living well is the best revenge."

I hope I see you again.

September 5, 1941.

It was chaos, chaos in the ghetto.

They beat our pregnant,

ravaged our children,

stole our lives.

They tried to kill the very thing that made us us,

so that we should look to the sky

and not see God, but see shum da-var...

nothing.

I searched for my family until I saw them.

My mother, shot dead,

in my father's arms...

...even as he, too, called out to the sky.

- Papa! - Shum da-var...

Shum da-var. Nothing.

And then he came.

Papa!

Meyer was his name.

He saved my life that night.

Papa!

I don't know what was worse...

to see that the Nazis had killed my father,

or to see that they had killed God.

Papa!

But for the first time in my life,

I wished to kill.

I wished to kill them all.

Marilu Henner.

That's right, Marilu Henner

is the answer we're looking for,

and you have the nine if you'd like it.

I'll take the nine.

- You'll take it. - All righty, you got it.

- - The 1984 games will be held in Los Angeles.

The shower's nearly fixed, Ms. Fischer.

Are the Soviets planning on coming? Yes or no.

- Downey? - Yes.

Yes, they are. Very indeed.

How about the next card?

Yes, darling.

Good answer, good answer.

Correct-a-mundo.

Combine that with a ten,

and you would win the match

and $2,500.

Hot water's back.

Oh, darling, thank you.

Such a flash.

You got to answer this question.

I've been freezing my tush off for days.

I was boobing the tube.

No, thanks.

Go on.

We all deserve something sweet.

He grew up to be president.

- Downey. - Jimmy Carter.

Yes! Jimmy Carter.

Oh, good girl.

Good girl. Take it.

All right. The next buys a ten.

- - You've got $2,500 in the match.

What is the card?

Yahtzee!

No!

Oh! No!

Aah!

Aah! Help!

Help!

Mine's bigger.

- Fucking Morris is back. - Look who's back.

The black Caped Crusader.

- Sir. - Morris.

Look, I know it's early, but, uh, I followed that lead.

The hooker in Hell's Kitchen.

She was turning tricks for Mikey Tratioli.

- Genovese's body man. - Jesus, Morris.

So she tells me Tratioli's got issues in the bedroom,

a real floppy jalopy, which leads me to believe

he's got one of them insecure personalities,

you know? So I think if we can get to Tratioli,

we can turn him easy.

Great, and after we bust Genovese,

we can figure out who shot JFK.

Morris, you've been with the Bureau for ten months.

It's 11 months, sir.

They see this Nancy Drew act,

you're gonna make it harder on yourself than it already is.

And I want my own case.

And it can't be any harder than it already is.

Okay.

You want your own case, Morris?

Tampa called this one in,

but they don't have the manpower to handle.

A NASA scientist found dead in her home at Cape Canaveral.

- Good night and good luck. - There are 15 field offices

between here and Florida.

You just want me out of your hair.

I'll get on the next flight down.

Morris,

if you're itching for some grand battle

between good and evil,

you ain't gonna find it here.

We're not soldiers, we're not saints.

We're janitors is all.

The fate of all things ain't resting on you.

Police have released a sketch of the suspect

in the gruesome robbery-homicide in D.C.

The sole survivor, Under Secretary of State

Biff Simpson, has been upgraded to stable condition.

A tragedy...

- Jane. - Jane, yep.

- Jane. - Jane.

- Jane. - Jane.

- Tarzan. - Definitely Tarzan.

What are you cocks spazzing about?

Oh, well, we call "Jane" if we think

the chick's squish mittens are trimmed,

and then "Tarzan" if it looks like her,

uh, Hairy Manilow's an all-out pube jungle.

You guys are idiots.

We couldn't just leave you cooped up in the house all day.

You got to at least try to get your head off it, man.

You dig?

Yeah, and what better place to do it than here

at Titty Beach?

Saw the motherfucker.

I saw him and I didn't do shit.

I just fucking stood there.

That piece of shit had a gun, man.

He would've killed your ass.

It's not your fault. The fuzz are on it, man.

- They'll find him. - Cops won't find shit.

They've already forgotten about it.

What do you want?

The Hell Devils, they run the streets

from us to 112th, right?

Nothing goes down without their knowing.

Well, what's your point?

Maybe they know something.

Uh, and what? You're gonna ring

the fucking Hell Devils' doorbell like the Avon Lady

- and just ask them? - Yeah.

- You're coming with me. - Aw, fuck,

no, man. If they see my fat ass,

they're gonna string me up like an Easter ham.

So we bring protection.

The hell is that? Some Jew sword?

The fuck your punk ass thinking,

that you some Charles Bronson motherfucker now?

If you bring that anywhere near the Hell Devils,

they're gonna circumcise you for a second time, dude.

- For real. - Just leave that shit at home.

- Please. - Fuck you guys.

- I'll do it myself. - Jonah.

- Yo, Jonah. Come on, now. - Come on, you're gonna get yourself killed.

- Afternoon, gentlemen. - Mm-hmm?

I'm looking for a Detective Sommers.

- Thank you... - Right over there.

If I need anything further, I know where to find you.

You're Sommers?

Agent Morris?

Shit. Shaft and Foxy Brown.

We keep solving cases together, they'll give us a sitcom.

All right, let me see her.

So Gretel Fischer slips in the tub,

and you guys call the FBI to, what, hunt Mr. Clean?

What, is this your first DOA?

It was making noises all night.

Go get some fresh air.

It looked like she slipped.

But the M.E. said it wasn't the head wound that killed her.

Mm.

Sorry.

It's like she was trapped inside,

but there was no lock.

What are you doing?

Oh...

Let's see...

She was gassed.

What the hell is this?

The fuck we got going on here, Big Dude?

A... woman was shot and killed the other night.

- 73rd Street. - And so what?

You Pink Panther motherfucker is here for revenge and shit?

She was my grandmother.

What'd you say?

She was my grandmother.

Look, I know shit doesn't go down under your nose

without you knowing.

And I know none of you murder old ladies.

I just want you to find out what asshole did this to her,

and... look, I'm... I'm willing to make you a trade.

- Whoa. Whoa, whoa. - What's he got in that bag?

- Slow man, slow. - For real.

Let's see.

How much for, homie?

All of it.

I want a fucking name.

- Hey, let's go! Let's go! - Go, go, go, go!

- Police! - Go, man, go!

- Shit! - Aw, fuck.

Spoke to the super again.

He said that a company

by the name of Abraham & Sons Plumbing came by yesterday.

Thing is, my boys checked.

There is no Abraham & Sons Plumbing nowhere.

Doesn't exist.

Why the gas?

What do you mean?

I mean, if whoever did this wanted her dead,

why go through all the trouble?

All the risk? Creating a fake plumbing company,

injecting gas into the pipes?

It all seems so purposeful.

So personal.

Call her kids. Family.

See if she had any enemies, anything they could think

might want to hurt her.

I'll go to NASA in the morning. See what they can tell me.

I got the thumb working in the front,

I got the forefinger and the middle finger

working in the back like I'm picking up

a seven-ten split. I mean, like we say at the office,

now I was gonna filibust all over her.

Oh, we're closing up any minute.

Nines.

Nines.

Nines.

"Are you my mother?"

You say something?

"'I'm not your mother.

"I am a dog, ' said the dog."

You're supposed to pass the bill.

Who the hell are you?

Oh, Washington Post? National Review?

Yeah. Well, listen good, you Peter Parker pig fuck,

there are three things I hold sacred: Jesus,

pussy, and Groovy Gutterball

Championship League Bowling Night,

and if you think that I'm gonna...

Are You My Mother?

He loves that book,

Dick Jr.

Your wife was asleep, and I saw his night-light on.

"'Are you my mother?' the baby bird asked a cow.

"'How could I be your mother?

"I am a cow.'

"'Are you my mother?'

"'No. No, I'm not your mother.

"I'm the man who'll cut your throat

"unless your father changes his vote

and does what we paid him to do.'"

Dick, this guy bothering you?

Am I bothering you, Dick?

Listen, ass-munch, I don't know who the fuck you think you are.

We got a problem?

What the fuck?

I know you'll keep tonight between us,

make sure your boys keep their mouths shut.

Otherwise, I can keep their mouths shut for them.

Please, no, we-we'll-we'll keep quiet.

Dick Jr. asked if I was the monster

under his bed.

He said he was sure

there was a monster living there,

but every time you would go in to check...

under the bed, in the closet...

you could never see it.

Tell me, Congressman,

do you see me now?

Mr. Offerman put up your bond, son.

$1,200.

You're free to go, for now.

His driver's waiting outside for you.

I wasn't there to sell.

I know why you were there.

This has to stop now,

before you get hurt.

Leave the detective work to us.

Detective work

would be realizing that the pattern

of the locations of your mystery rapist's crimes

fits the A35 bus route

to a T,

so he must be taking that bus line

to his victims' apartments.

Detective work

would be finding who killed my grandma.

You're not doing detective work.

All you're doing is sitting around

circle jerking to police sketches of Son of Sam.

Don't let me keep you from busting a nut.

Holy balls.

He's expecting you.

Well, I never.

Holy mackerel, I don't know how you boys do it.

Doc, it's a masterpiece.

Good work.

"And God appointed a great fish

"to swallow Jonah up.

"And out of the belly of Hell, Jonah cried

and God did hear his voice."

You should read the Torah more.

It is the original comic book.

- How are you? - I'm fine.

Your face still looks like shit.

- At least mine will heal. - You will h... Uh, yeah.

Well, you didn't tell me you were Bruce Wayne rich.

Well...

What are you doing with this Hell Devils? What is that?

Please, can we...

- Does that seem wise? - I'm gonna pay you back,

- every single penny of my bail. - What? No.

- I don't want your money, please. Ugh. No. - Just don't give me a speech.

I forgive the loan in its entirety.

All I want from you is the thrill

of besting a Torah-ignorant punk

in a chess match.

What do you say?

You know, there was a very famous prisoner

in Auschwitz

named Markus Roth.

He was the Bobby Fischer of Germany.

And as fate would have it, one of the Nazi guards,

a sadistic man named Heinz Richter,

he had always aspired to be a great chess player, too,

but for years, in tournaments,

he was, he was trounced by the chess-playing Jew,

who was now his prisoner.

Now, one morning in the camps,

Richter rounded up Markus

and 32 others,

marched them into the woods.

Each day, more prisoners

were led into those same woods.

One morning,

your safta's younger sister

was taken.

Your safta,

foolish and fearless,

was determined to rescue her dear Chava,

so we snuck into the dark woods

after them.

And? What did you see?

Well, in a small clearing...

...Richter had constructed a human chessboard.

On those squares stood the prisoners...

...each one with a blade.

Richter commanded the black,

forced Markus to play with the white.

Bishop...

to E3.

I'm sorry, Chava.

Chava!

Chava didn't fare well.

After seven days of this torture,

Markus Roth grabbed a blade,

tried to kill the barbarous Heinz Richter.

Markus, of course, was shot dead,

but not before he gave Richter a scar

across his throat

in the shape of an "X."

Markus never lost one match, however.

Not one.

Perhaps we can take some solace in that.

What I'd give to have killed those motherfuckers.

Your grandmother never told you of such stories?

Of our history? No?

You rich folks have the luxury of living in the past.

Rest of us can only afford the present.

The past is all there is, Jonah,

repeating over and over again,

with new players of new times

hoping for a different outcome.

Checkmate.

In only two moves.

What, uh, what is this?

Yeah, I call it beating an old man's ass at his own game.

You're what they call "a little shit," aren't you?

- You want to play another...? - The telephone is for you.

It's the mayor's office.

I should just be a moment.

Continue without me.

Probably win that, too.

Very good.

Ah, what a fucking weirdo.

- It's bad manners... - What the fuck is this?

...to venture around a man's home without an invitation.

Is this him? Did you find the fucker that did this to her?

You need to leave.

You found him.

How? The cops didn't have shit.

You think the cops care about some old Jew?

Who is he?

Go home. Read the Talmud.

Living well is the best revenge.

- No. No, no, no! Tell me who he is. - Go back home...

- And who are you? - I have a fucking right to know!

Tell me right now.

What are you, one of your masked, caped shvantzes

from your cartoons? No.

You are a boy.

You are a child

who could do nothing

to stop the killer in his home.

Who did nothing to save his grandmother.

That's who you are.

Jonah! Stop!

Hey, I'll, uh...

I'll have a chicken noodle and an Old Chicago.

...because they-they fell on their heads.

Right into you... and that's the point of the game.

I don't understand the point of the game. All these men...

Hey. Excuse me, what is this?

- I ordered the chicken soup. - Yeah, that's what that is.

This is not chicken soup.

- I want chicken soup. - Well, I don't know what to tell you.

- That's what it is. - I want the fucking chicken soup!

What the fuck is wrong with you?

I want hers!

I want her... hers.

I want her.

We never met a sweeter woman

or a more brilliant scientist.

An unparalleled genius, Gretel was.

Our hearts weep.

Did you notice anything strange before her death?

Was she, I don't know, was she acting strange

or suspicious or worried?

Anyone at work bothering her?

No. No, she kept to herself, mostly.

- Spent weekends at the lab. - She was a workaholic.

And what exactly did Dr. Fischer do for you?

Gretel was a chemist.

Her research developed the rocket fuel

that carried our boys to the moon.

And she started at NASA in '48?

Yes. '48 or '49.

I remember when she came in.

She survived the war in Germany.

And here she was, living the American Dream.

And what was she working on now?

Dr. Fischer was...

working on a chemical solution that would heighten

our astronauts' tolerance of g-force from 16 to 30,

highly theoretical work.

That was completed back in 1954 when John Stapp harnessed

nearly 46 Gs in the U.S. Air Force tests, no?

Sir, I'm not interviewing you for Reader's Digest.

This is an FBI investigation

into the death of one of your employees.

So you lie to me again and I'll rip every hair

of that schnoz forest out your nose

until you tell me what I want to know.

Agent Morris, if you would like to discuss

Dr. Fischer's classified research,

we will gladly do so on receipt of a warrant.

Short of that, we have nothing more to add.

We don't respond to threats.

Least of all from some broad like you.

See her out.

All right. "Some broad like me."

Fuck you.

I've devoted my entire life to science,

the search for truth.

And truth matters now more than ever.

What-what are... what truth?

You aren't the first to ask questions about Gretel Fischer.

Find the first and you'll find what you're looking for.

No, wait. What are you talking about?

The Russians used to send each of their cosmonauts into space

with a sawed-off shotgun.

It wasn't for protection against aliens.

Nothing ridiculous like that.

It was because on their return to Earth,

if they landed off course,

they'd have to hike hundreds of miles

through the Siberian tundra and they needed protection

against the bears and the wolves.

When you land, Agent Morris, and you will,

you won't be in the tundra, but if I were you,

I, too, would carry protection.

For where you're going,

there'll be bears

and there'll be wolves.

Red Balloon, Red Balloon...

Maybe they have it.

Ask him.

Mister, do you have the Superstar Barbie in stock?

We should be getting more in next week.

I'll save one just for you, darling.

Can I help you, son?

Son?

Son?

You. You.

- No, please. - You.

- Just take the money. - You killed her.

- You fucking killed her, I know you did. - Take what you want.

- No, I not done nothing. - I know you did it!

What? What are you talking about?

- I didn't kill anyone. - Don't fucking lie to me.

No, please.

- I didn't kill no one. - No, I saw you.

I saw you.

- Just take the money. - I saw you.

- Just take the... - I saw your car.

I don't have a car!

Please, please, just take the money.

- Fuck. - Please. Please.

Please.

Please.

Just take the money.

Richter.

You Jews are always the best to play our games with.

You know why?

Because you know what it is to play for your life.

I wish I could have played with your grandmother for hours more.

It was a shame.

But...

now you are going to tell me what she would not.

Ow! Fucker!

You motherfucking piece of shit.

Ah! Ow!

Why was she looking for me?

L-Look... looking, looking for-for-for you?

I-I don't, I don't know what you're talking...

No!

Who was she working for?

- Mossad? - What?

Wiesenthal? The Soviets?

I don't know what you're talking about.

Ow!

She wasn't working for anybody.

- She wasn't... - How did she find me?

She wasn't working for anybody, I'm telling you.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Please let me go.

You fucking monster, I'll kill you.

Ow!

Ah, ah, ow!

No, you won't.

You Jews, you think you know how to kill

because for eons you've been massacred.

But you don't see the cows

running the slaughterhouses, do you?

Come.

Moo for me, boy.

Moo.

Moo.

Now...

are you going to tell me what I need to know,

or should I aim for your eyes?

We're closed!

Help, help, help. Help!

- Help! Help! Please, help! - We're closed!

Help!

Help! Please!

Help! Help!

I'm coming!

I'm coming.

We had to close early today.

I just need to get

a gift for my daughter.

Get your little one something special tomorrow.

Help! Help! Help!

Somebody open...

Help! Help!

You mistook us for pawns.

When all this time, we've been kings.

This is for Markus.

And for Chava.

For Ruth.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck?

Well, Scooby-Dooby,

this is one monster

that need not be unmasked.

Ah, fuck.

Jesus, fuck.

Here. Jonah, Jonah, it's all right.

It's all right.

- Jonah. - Ah. Ow.

Calm, calm. It's all right.

I see it. I see it.

- Here it is, it's in this place. - Who are you?

- Who the fuck are you? CIA? - Just press.

- Huh? Mossad? - Press.

Oh, kindelah, no.

I work only for myself.

Though I suppose I represent six million clients.

Why was he saying she was after him?

Because she was.

We both were.

You know that photograph you stole from me?

Your grandmother took it the day before she died.

She would never let us pursue anyone without her verification.

Pursue?

Pursue who?

Nazis, Jonah.

Goddamn gold-ribbon,

grade "A" Nazis.

Nazis?

Yes.

The war's over.

Only the dead know the end of war.

I tried to keep you away from it.

Your grandmother wished to protect you from it.

From what?

The Hunt, Jonah.

The Hunt. Come.

Let's go.

What the fuck is The Hunt?

In other news out of the nation's capital,

Congressman Dick Marshall has changed his stance

and will now vote to repeal sanctions

on South American nations,

allowing the bill to pass in the House

as it heads to the Senate floor.

Keep it right here on this news station

for all the late-breaking details.

I'm Logan Crawford, reporting.

When you don't separate the whites from the colors...

...the colors always bleed.

You did good.

The Colonel wishes to meet you.

Me?

A year ago, your safta

came to me in a panic.

We hadn't seen one another in 30 years.

So, one morning, at the market,

she told me she noticed a man

picking cantaloupes.

She recognized him as a Nazi doctor

from Auschwitz.

A man who would rip out every tooth from a child's mouth

just for sport.

And there he stood,

a free man in America.

He had been a pediatrician on Long Island

for d-decades.

Ruth discovered his sister, a Nazi chemist...

she also escaped here.

We believed that these two vile creatures were in our midst,

so we thought there could be others here.

- Did you tell the authorities? - Well, we tried, but...

We went through all the proper channels, so...

law enforcement, the courts, INS.

But whether out of incompetence,

ignorance, or animus,

we were laughed at.

They didn't believe us.

So I took the matter to the senators I knew,

the congressmen who I got elected,

but they ignored me.

No one cares to stake their reputation

on investigating some Jew killers.

So, with nowhere else to turn,

we made a vow.

We would find these criminals ourselves...

...and bring God's justice

to their doorstep.

You mean murder them.

Murder?

No. No, Jonah.

This is not murder.

Before Jews even existed,

hatred and slaughter waited for us.

For thousands of years,

from Masada to Munich, we have been massacred.

Pharaohs and popes and princes and popular votes

calling for our blood.

Now?

We survive the war,

we survive the greatest mass eradication

in modern history,

and we arrive home to find

that the people who did this to us,

they're our neighbors.

So tell me, what should we do?

Shake hands?

Turn a blind eye?

Forget? No, no.

The greatest single gift of the Jewish people

is our capacity...

our capacity to remember.

And it's because of our memory

that we know this is survival.

This is not murder.

This is mitzvah.

The man from the market...

became our first.

Heinz is number seven.

We number our kills.

Eye for eye.

Jonah, this is not because we want for this.

Because we have no choice.

We must instill fear...

send a message.

Let them know...

not again.

No more.

No more, Jonah.

Nip it in the bud.

Who is that? The Wolf?

The Nazi doctor from Auschwitz.

The monster of my story.

Still haunts me to this day.

The Talmud is wrong.

Living well is not the best revenge.

You know what the best revenge is?

Revenge.

I want in. I want in.

Your grandmother protected you from all this.

She risked her life so you could live out yours.

She's dead because of me.

I will regret that for the rest of my life.

I have to do this.

I can't allow it.

No, it's my right.

It's my choice.

I found him.

I did.

You found what I could not.

You found what I could not.

Your grandmother said, "A brilliant mind...

from God, a gift."

But you followed in her footsteps today.

You held her dagger.

You did her work.

Your grandmother wished to protect you from The Hunt,

but it appears we cannot

protect The Hunt from you.

Ah, f... I miss her.

- I miss her so much. - It's okay.

I miss her, too.

What is that? What is that?

Oh...

you didn't think Ruth and I

could do this alone, did you?

You all remember Jonah.

Well, now, fill our glasses.

So we bring protection.

The hell is that, some Jew sword?

We have a fresh kill to toast.

Then you should have hired a fucking babysitter.

I'm not working late again for this shit.

That's fucking Lonny Flash.

Shut your gefilte-fish-stinking

fat fucking mouth.

With Ruth gone, someone had to look after you.

To Ruth.

To Ruth.

We have trials ahead,

a growing list of vermin.

So... let us get to cooking

these Nazi cunts.

Herr Colonel?

Frau Colonel.

You expected a man, didn't you?

Well, jeepers creepers, I'm a dame.

We've had many good soldiers through the years...

...but we've been following you since Skokie, child.

And you are on track for true Bedeutung.

The congressman passed the bill.

The solution will be on its way

from South America shortly.

Wonderful, Colonel.

I believe you're ready for much more, son.

I have another task for you.

Two of our people have been murdered...

under mysterious circumstances

in just the past month alone.

Whoever is behind this needs to be found and dealt with.

I need you to unravel

that little mystery.

Of course, ma'am.

We are on the eve of the Final War.

And all of America, all of the world,

shall be brought to their knees.

It begins now.

What begins now?

The Fourth Reich.

Heil Hitler.

- Sieg heil. - Sieg heil.

Heil Hitler.

Sieg heil.

Sieg heil.