All language subtitles for Dietland 1x1

I asked for dressing
on the side.

But the chef
didn't dress it, ma'am.

Where's my warm lemon
vinaigrette?

Jennifer was dropping men
from the sky,

but none of us
knew that yet.

All I knew was, I had a date
with Verena Baptist.

Nothing is off-limits,
Plum.

No food, no thought.

The New Baptist Plan actually
isn't about deprivation,

it's about being kinder
to yourself.

OK.
Sounds good.

It sounded
like a woo-woo version
of Waist Watchers.

As we discussed,
for this to work,
you need to go off the Y.

That's all the first phase
consists of.

When your body's gotten
used to a drug like that,

detox can be...
an adventure.

Well, done.

I flushed 'em yesterday.

How long have you been
taking Y again?

Nine years...
give or take?

OK. So when you've been
taking antidepressants
for that long,

the way to go off them
is to taper slowly
over several months.

Going cold turkey's
not safe,
or pleasant.

I need you
call your doctor,
get a new prescription.

We want to start by
cutting your usual dose
maybe by a quarter,

see how you tolerate it.

OK. Absolutely,
I'll do that.

In the meantime,
let's brainstorm
some things--

Verena,
can I steal you
for two seconds?

It's about you-know-what.

Excuse me.

- Hey.
- Hi.

I see you signed on
for Verena's torture sessions.

Good for you.
She saved my ass,

and I came in here--

Barbara, let's not
scare Plum off.

You know that line,
"I'd never want to belong

to a club that would have me
as a member"?

That's how I felt
about Calliope House.

Verena may have been
well-meaning,

but she was also the poster
child for skinny entitlement.

She thinks she gets it,
but she's never been in
my extra-wide shoes.

Thank you
for your patience.

I know you have
no reason to trust me.

So...

here is proof
that I am for real.

If you want, call the bank,
see that the funds are there.
Be my guest.

All I ask is that you
wait to cash it till
you finish the plan.

Alicia.

This was my golden ticket.

Is there a problem?

Should I have made it out
to Plum?

No. No, it's...

perfect.

Calliope House
was changing my routine.

And while I desperately
needed the money,

I still wasn't sold
on the New Baptist Plan.

You know, I like it better
when you come in with
a good-lookin' detective

- who buys cake.
Me too.

You should call him.

No. Again,
he's just working me.

So? Everybody's working
everybody until they're not.

No, I saw something, Plum--

the way Dominic
was lookin' at you.

It was clear, Plum,
that man is--

Whatever!
He's not even my type.

Dude, you've dated
only one person. Singular.

You have no idea
what your type is.

Dude, this is
a pointless conversation.

- Even if I did like him--
- You do. I can tell.

Even if I did...

he's just-- he just wants me
to talk about the case.

That's called an opening.

Do I have to do
all the work around here?

Oh...

- Return of the Glamazons.

It's awful for business,

but I gotta say, this year,
I'm kinda into Fashion Week.

If you are suddenly straight,
I'm gonna die of confusion.

You're safe.

No, I'm happy for you.

You're doing that article
on the runway show.

This is a good thing.
So when is it again?

And...what are you
gonna wear?

I'm not.
I am watching it online.

Kitty's assistant
gave me a link.

Oh, you're watching it now?
Lemme see.

What do we got here?

- I quit Y.

It's phase one
of Verena's New Baptist Plan.

"Side effects
include headaches,
nausea, fatigue"--

well, that's
Sunday morning
at my house--

"heart palpitations,
brain zaps"--

- What the hell
is a brain zap?
- Beats me.

"Obsessive thoughts,
paranoia, hallucinations.
Suicidal ideations"?

- OK.
- No, no, no, you need
to stay on your meds.

Forget Verena.

You can go through insurance
and get your stomach stapled.

Actually, I can't.
I have to pay out-of-pocket
and get reimbursed.

And I need more surgery after
the fact for my excess skin,

which is considered cosmetic,
so they won't pay.

Definitely can't afford that.

I don't know about this,
Plum.

Have you vetted this woman?

Yeah. Totally.

I Googled her.

She's given boatloads of money
to all kinds of lefty causes.

OK, fine. Whatever.

At least let me stay with you
till you get off the Y.

It looks like
it could be scary.

Come on. I'm the girl
who never gets sick, remember?

This isn't germ warfare.
These are chemicals

that were helping your brain
and now are not.

This is serious, Plum,
you can't take this lightly.

Stop! I'm gonna hole up,
I'll relax, write my piece.

It'll be like
a withdrawal-cation...

with some work on the side.

Mm-hm. So you're not
just gonna lay up
on the couch

and binge-watch
those stupid nature shows?

No. Working.

The whole time.
One hundred percent.

Anyway, I'm going off the grid
for a few days.

I just want to let you know.

To write.
I'll call you when I'm done.

All right.
Love you, Ma.

Dominic: Hello.

Oh, hey. Hi.

This is Plum.

Sorry to call
instead of text.

No, I'm glad you did.
What's up?

Are you...busy?

No, no. Today's my day off.

It's nice to hear your voice.

Um, I just wanted
to let you know that--
...

- Yeah.

I was gonna call
your phone message
and just say,

"Hello, Detective,

I'm going out of town
for a few days

in case you need
your beauty informant."

And then just, like, hang up.

My what?

Beauty informant.

Like a criminal informant,
but...beautiful.

- Oh. Yeah, yeah. Got it.

Hey, while I got you,

do you know someone
named Leeta?

You mean that, uh,
weird girl who works
in the beauty closet?

Yeah. You know her?

Not really.

Ahh, it's all right.
Don't worry about it.

S-- Yeah, so, you know,
listen, have a nice trip,
and, uh,

don't be a hero, OK?
When it comes
to helping me out.

We still don't know
if these hackers are connected
to this homicide.

- All I can say,

somebody in
the Austen Media family
was murdered.

Missing fashion photographer
Malleck Ferguson

was found dead today.

A surreal twist?

Witnesses say his body
fell out of the sky.

So far, authorities
have no leads,

but the FAA confirms
that several planes

were in the area
before Ferguson's body

hit a Lower East Side
restaurant patio.

More as this wild story
develops.

All right, we're clear.

Send regrets
to Jason Wu.

I'm absolutely not going
to Yeezy this season.

And find out what time
Victoria's show starts.

I don't want to be sitting there
like some fool, waiting, again.

- If I could go back in time--
- You can't. I just wish

you were capable of learning
from your mistakes.

Confirm my re-see with Rodarte,

and then make sure
the helicopter is there

to take me to the Open.
I want--

God! I know we joked
about this, but--

- The timing
isn't a coincidence.
- Of course not.

And dropping his body
out of a plane?

It's Fashion Week.
They're already calling this
the Runway Murder.

Focus. Please?

This is bad.
It could come back on us.

We stood behind Malleck
during the first few
rape allegations

and that media boycott.

How he got that girl
to recant, I'll never--

Green tea, loose leaf,
not in some awful paper cup.

Not on the record.
- Mm-hm.

We still paid for Malleck's
legal defense and--
and his PR team.

I'm sure there's something
in all our leaked information
about it.

Well, why would Austen Media
pay for Malleck's legal team?

Because Malleck is--

was part of the family.

If you, I don't know,

liked to diddle
golden retrievers,

we'd do the same thing
for you.

Well, fortunately
for both of us,

I broke it off with Rover.

Funny.

If you get any intel
on who's behind this,
tell me.

If the monsters
who killed Malleck

are the same ones
who hacked us,

Stanley, and his family,
could be targets.

I could be a target.

Or me.

Yes. Also that.

Just get on it, will you?

When the body dropped,
I thought it was fake.

Like a Fashion Week stunt?

Or that SVU show was filming.

They're always coming up
with crazy ways to kill people.

That show's been on forever.

So,
one bad guy murdered,

one brain zap, and some
remote fashion show viewing--

so far, my withdrawal-cation
didn't seem so bad.

- But as some drunken
tailgaters and I

were about to find out,
it was just getting started.

*

The two victims shown here,

French soccer players,

were recently reported missing
from Paris,

and appear to be
the latest victims

of the Runway Murders.

- I can't watch.

Put it back on, jackass.

Don't talk to him like that,
jackass.

...unconfirmed reports
of four more men

dropped across New Jersey,
Rhode Island, and Pennsylvania,

bringing the possible total
to seven victims.

- It's Jennifer!
It has to be.

Stay current
or you're fired, Ben.

Not really.

Oh, it just makes me sick.

Hey, is Plum working today?

Her singing,
it calms me down,
you know?

It's like angels humming.

She is not.

Calm yourself
by serving my customers.

Absolutely, sir.

Hey, there you are.

- Hi.
- Well, you don't look
suicidal to me.

Thanks. I try.
What's up?

Listen, why don't you, um,

why don't you stay
on your meds

and let Ben
be your boyfriend?

- Ugh.
He's adorable.

And your total
disinterest in him

got him beggin' like Rolo.

No offense.

He is adorable,
but I can't have sex thoughts

about somebody who thinks
that Greenland is a continent.

Yeah, that is pretty sad.

He has no stomach for the news,

much less
my conspiracy theories.

Speaking of which,
these Runway Murders--

- La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la!
What?

No. Total media blackout.
I have to work.

I want no negative vibes
while I withdraw.

- Oh, come on--
- I promise,

I will juice with you
about everything

as soon as I'm back
on the grid.

OK, but the soup,
right? It's lo-cal--

- I'll talk to you soon.
- Plum--

- Thank you.

Call me!

( zapping noises,
whooshing )

The withdrawals? Yeah,
they were no joke.

I started seeing things.

I started answering
Kitty's Girls emails--

inappropriately.

"Before I can answer
your question,

I'd like to ask
if you get pleasure

from inserting tampons
into your vagina?

Because I don't.
But if you do,

then that's
no one's damn business."

At least I was safe
in my apartment

with my nature documentaries.

Except there is no safe place

when you're going through
withdrawal.

...the smaller gazelle.

He makes his approach.

And now, the hunt is on.

Ohh. I have a corn.

It really hurts.

Do you see anything?

Unh-unh.

You look like hell.

I'm starving.

I don't have any cereal.

Cereal?

I'm a damn animal.

I eat meat, Plum.

Where the hell's
the real food?

- That is my real food.
- No it's not.

You ever been to Mauritania?

Isn't that in West Africa?

Men in Mauritania
love big women so much.

In fact,
they encourage girls to eat.
It's called leblouh.

I think they force-feed
those girls

so that men want to marry them.

Those girls are tortured.

They eat their own vomit.

Well, there's no winnin'
for the ladies.

Remember that song
"Been A Son"?

Yeah, Nirvana.

You know,
Cobain was a feminist.

Frank L. Baum, too.

Trivia. Tigers love it.

Oh.

Things are no picnic
for you guys, either.

People hunt you,
skin you,

hang you
on their walls.

I mean, not me, per se,
but it's a fair point.

You got any lemon?

How can you not know Nirvana?

Hang on.
What?

Water's gone...

but I'm still thirsty.

You drank all the water
in New York?

Kinda.

That's impossible.

You know,
you smell delicious.

Slow your roll, Big T.
I'm not on the menu.

- Yeah.

What do you want?

I want a big,

juicy...

corned beef sandwich,

five pepperoni pizzas,
extra cheese,

lobster rolls,
a tub of artisanal
cookie dough,

and two liters of Coke.
Regular Coke.

It'll be here
in 41 minutes.

So what do you
wanna do now?

I have to work.

You're a writer.

Why aren't you working
on something more muscular?

I was. I am.

This is my real job,
and I'm way behind.

You look exhausted.

Why don't you let me
take over for a while?

Come on.

There you go.

See, tigers are intuitives.
We give excellent advice.

You're the best.

Back in the jungle,

things were just swell.

- Maybe.

I don't think I want
to feel anything
until I'm Alicia.

But feelings are great.

Like how?

Can you be more specific?

- You promised.
- I'm sorry.

I didn't know it was on.

Can you tell me more
about feelings?

Well...

when I'm on the hunt,

every fiber of my body
vibrates.

My mind is quiet,
but alert.

And my eyes go from brown...

to green.

- That's awesome.
- Yeah.

It's second only to mating.

These eyes of yours, Plum--

you don't have
a little tiger in you,
do you?

I don't think so.

You want some?

Mmm.

Mmm.

Mm.

Hey. What's with
the daffodils?

So does anyone know

if we paid Malleck's
legal fees?

That better be hot.
Anything else?

The florist
can't find enough daisies

to spell out "Daisy Chain."

Is it OK if she tastefully
mixes in daffodils?

It is not. What else?

The printer asked
if you wanted to crop
Malleck's name

out of his photographs
or reprint them the same size
without--

Hold, please. What were you
going to say?

Oh, uh, as far as we can tell,

the information about Austen
and Malleck wasn't leaked.

As far as I can tell,
that's not very reassuring.

Can you give me
a percentage?

Like eighty-three percent.

Good enough.

Why the hell were you using
Malleck's photographs?

I didn't. You said--
I thought that--

No one but me thinks.
That's exactly the problem.

I want the same theme,
the same color scheme,

only use photographs
taken by diverse women.

- OK, but we don't have any--
- We're done.

Thank you.

What about Plum?
She useful?

Well, she lied to me
about knowing a beauty closet
intern named Leeta.

Leeta ghosted
after the last hack.

Could be coincidence.
I'm telling you,

Plum is the one
with a giant red flag.

I even gave her
a special assignment

so she didn't suspect
that we had our eye on her.

I'm doing my bit.
You do yours.

OK, yes, Plum technically
had access,

but I been spending
a lot of time with her,

and she does not
fit the profile.

Wrong.
She absolutely does.

Her answers to my Kitty letters

have gotten a little...

political recently.

I shouldn't have let it slide,
but I liked sounding worldly.

I'm lost.

Large girls pretend
to be joyful and harmless...

but really, they're jealous
of people like me.

No matter how well
you treat them,
they fester.

Understood.
I'll stay on her.

So what do I
need to know

about these Runway Murders?

Besides Malleck
and the soccer players,

they ID'd a lawyer,
some artsy film director,

a pro football player,
and that guy Hal Jizz.

He created those websites...

RevengeHer, VietCooch.

God. He sounds foul.

Are we safe?

Look, the feds
are all over this,

but my guys on the squad,
they're saying no one knows
who Jennifer is--

Why do I get a novella
when all I want is an answer?

Are. We. Safe.

You're probably OK
to keep working on
this thing here--

Probably?
I took a risk
hiring you.

This isn't the time
to be lazy and coy.

OK, the way I see it,

whoever orchestrated
something this big

is not wasting their time
hacking into Austen's computers.

They're extremists
targeting men.

It had been a wild night,

but I was feeling
more like myself.

Or not.

Tiger time.
Brave like that.

Brave like that.

Brave like that.

Brave like that.
Brave like that.

Brave like that.
Brave like that.

- Brave like that.

Brave like that.

Hello? 911 over here.

Plum

I think I'm allergic
to tiger fur.

- Look at my cheeks.

Whatever. I had this epiphany,

and I needed
to tell you about it.

I think that this job
is not good for me.

Uh-huh.

So I'm covering
a fashion show, right?

But I'm not invited
to the fashion show.

So, you know, why do I not
want a man to touch me?

Because even if
I could accept my--

please-- and if I wanted
to go to a fashion show,

Do you think
she respects me or my--

Dear...
did you take something?

No. That's the point.

I'm not taking anything.

Calliope House.
Shit.

Is Verena having you wean
off pharmaceuticals?

Yeah. Why?

She told me
not to go cold turkey,

but I thought, how bad
could it possibly be?

Bad. Super bad.

Look at my skin.

Pretty Plum, I wish
I could stay with you,

but I can't miss that damn,
stupid Daisy Chain party.

I'll have the car
drop you at home,

but first I want you
to call a friend
to be with you, OK?

Oh, my battery's dead.

Benny was on Spotify
when we were making out.

- The tiger.

That's how
I got this rash.

Maybe I could just
stay here with Leeta.
She's my friend.

Leeta quit.

New York wasn't for her.

It's hard to keep
good interns.

How come
you didn't tell Dominic?

The detective? I did.

He called and asked for her.
I was very clear.

He doesn't be-lieve you.

Oh

I miss Leeta.

Do you think
she misses me?

I wonder if she was
in love with me.

She said I was special,
which is funny,

but does it mean that
she likes me likes me,
the way that you do?

Oh...

It's lavender oil.
Inhale.

- That's nice.
- Mm-hmm.

- Let's get you home.

So while I headed home
to lounge in my PJs,

all the women of Austen Media

were stuffing themselves
into Spandex

and smiling their way through
Fashion Week.

* ...acknowledge

* What I'm sayin'... *

You look well, Abra.

Did you sleep
the whole plane ride?

Ohh. Not a wink.

But I had to get out
of the house.

Stanley was being unbearable.

And then our plane
got re-routed twice
because of the murders.

You know, nobody even
called him about Malleck.

Maybe the police didn't know
how close they were.

Ha!
Stanley despised Malleck.

He just hates
being the last to know.

Somebody should have called,
that's all.

Did you consider canceling
the party tonight?

You know, for fear
that Austen Media

might come across
as tone

I did consider it.

But that's what
the terrorists want.

To scare us.
To destroy our
way of life.

We can't let them win,
can we?

You know, it's strange, I was
just thinking about Malleck
when we were in Dubrovnik.

The women there
barely bother to dress.

His kind of hunting ground.

Do you think it's just
part of nature

that people want to dominate
and humiliate others?

Mostly men.

It's OK, you can say it.
Just us chickens here.

- Just us old hens.
- We don't show it.

You're goddamn right we don't.

We can't age,
or we become invisible.

But men, nobody cares
what they look like,

as long as they have money.

And when they do fail,
so many of them fail up.

Not Malleck.

You know, Kitty, I think
we might like each other.

That could be useful,
yes?

Oh God,
not another bomb threat.

Party's canceled, ladies.

Please get back in your car
and clear the area.

It's my event inside, officer.

Yeah? Well, the mayor's
declared a state of emergency

and canceled Fashion Week
until further notice.

- Because we got bodies
falling out of the sky.

But if you cancel Fashion Week,
then they win.

Stanley said
we should shut it down.

What?!

Why didn't you tell me?

Why did you make me
pick you up?

I said I needed
to get out of the house.

Time to get movin',
ladies.

Officer, I appreciate that
you're trying to follow orders,

- but I really need
to get inside.
- Leave or get arrested.

Be smart, like your friend.

- Julia: Excuse me.
- I'll just call
our corporate counsel--

There you are!
I have a car waiting.

Eladio's already speaking
with the mayor's office.

I don't envy Abra.

Being a member
of the idle rich

is a fate worse than poverty.

Did you know she graduated
summa from Kellogg?

- You're kidding.
- Not kidding.

She had dozens of offers.

She chose Stanley--
and his rules.

Rules

He doesn't want
his women to work.

Stanley wants them
available to...

run the home
and suck the dick.

That's why
he and Stella Cross
were doomed.

She had no home,
so it was all dick.

Stanley and that porn star?

No. Tell me everything.

No. I've already
said too much.

Ohh.

That intern of yours.

The Hot Topic reject?

She's a little off,
you know?

Well, I encourage
eccentricity,

but refuse to tolerate chaos,
so I fired her.

People underestimate you,
Julia.

Is that so?

Where they see
a basement-dwelling eccentric,

I see a...

Somebody's
taking our picture.

Shit!

Those tabloid scum
got us.

No. It's too loud in here.

There's no way
he overheard us.

Who cares what he heard?
We're eating.

Optics, Julia.

Optics.

I am so proud of you,
Plummy.

Who cares what
those mean boys say?

You just
keep shakin' it,
girl.

I will. At this rate,

Kitty's not going
to be alpha cat much longer.

- You look great.

Did you bring any meat?

No. You want me
to get some?

I want you to stalk the beast

and rip open its flesh
before we mate.

*

I've never been so hot.

Yeah.
You're burnin' up.

Mm. But my skin
is so soft.

Feel it.

I know, right?

- It's very soft.

Sensuous.
And there's so much of it.

Don't you just wanna
get lost in me

and stay there forever?

I think something's burning.

Dominic,
how did you get here?

You called me.
You remember?

Oh, yeah.
And you came.

I'm gonna go
check on the stove.

Mmm...

That's Marlowe--
former sitcom star

turned author, activist,
and earth mother.

I never wanted children.

But you have so many.

How's your newest?

I don't know if
she's ready for this.

I just want to be careful.

I-- I--

I think Plum is one who could
go in the wrong direction.

She's so bright,
but she's impulsive.

What'd she do,
drop a few bastards
out of a plane, or...

There were over 3 million hits
on VietCooch.

None of the Vietnamese girls
were aware

they were being live-streamed.

My name is Hal Jizz...

and I deserve to die.

We lied under oath
and claimed she was
a prostitute

who said she was 19.

We knew she was 13.

My name is Malleck F-Ferguson.

I drugged and sexually
assaulted 31 women and girls,

some as-- as young as--

as young as 14.

I denied committing
these crimes

and hired lawyers

to intimidate and harass
my victims.

My name is Malleck Ferguson
and I deserve to die.

In a UNN exclusive,

Jennifer claimed
responsibility

for killing 12 men
they call the Dirty Dozen.

They wanted me to make clear

that they chose Fashion Week

to deliver
their protest message

because, and I quote,

"The fashion industry
dehumanizes women

and fosters rape culture."

The question

is not longer
who is Jennifer,

but what is Jennifer?

You don't feel good,
Plum?

I was sick.

I'm just tired now.

Seven-fifty,
please.

Nice.

You're in
such good shape.

- What do you do
to keep such a nice shape?
- Leave her alone.

You want me to leave you alone,
you probably shouldn't dress
like that.

- Your ass is hangin' out.
- Got you on video.

Mind your own business, cow.
No one's lookin' at you.

- Look who's talking, jerk!
- Crawl back under your rock!

He was here last week
doing the same thing.
This has to stop.

- It's not OK.
- Jerk.

I just can't decide

do I call Stanley
or text Abra?

If Jennifer would threaten
anyone at UNN

or Austen Media, you know
I would have called you.

And the police.

Unless it made a better story
not to.

Please don't.

Fine. Have me fired.

Have Stanley shut down
the whole station.

Jeremiah, it's Ms. Montgomery.

Please wake Stanley for me.

- There's--
- I'm sorry.

I was wrong.
OK?

Excuse me, false alarm.

Tell Stanley
we can speak tomorrow.

I want your source.

Kitty, if-- if I do that--

You might save
thousands of lives.

Jennifer's done.
It's old news already.

Oh, really?

Jennifer will be yesterday
before tomorrow.

Nothing ever sticks
anymore.

You get five minutes
of outrage,

three minutes of fear,

and then everyone
switches over

to some cute goat video

and it's
"What were we
talking about?"

Jennifer's different.

Mark my words.

They won't stop until

they believe
they've freed women
from oppression

once and for all.

And that's never
gonna happen.

Men would rather
destroy the world
than let us rule it.

I'm glad you're not
a cop anymore, Dad.

It's too dangerous.

She's worried
about Jennifer.

So what did you guys see?

See the video of the guys
confessing?

What if Jennifer
makes a mistake...

and she kills somebody good?
Like you.

Nothin' is gonna happen to me.

Do you still
have a gun?

Mama!

What are we
celebrating?

- I needed a little sugar.
- Mmm.

Mmm. Caramel. Yum.

Go wash up.

Only Harry Potter.
No computer before bed.

Mmm.

- I know money's tight,

but I don't like you
workin' doubles.

Well, it isn't
forever, baby.

I'm better when I'm busy.

It charges me up.
Ya know?

- Mmm.

What the hell, Nicky?

- I'm sorry.

These women won't open up to you
if they think you're married.

You know I'm superstitious.
You're right. I'm sorry.

How come you always
make me feel like a bully?

Marissa, can we
not do this tonight?

Whatever.

So...
how's the case going?

It's good. I might have
found an informant.

Yeah?
What's her name?

Her name was Plum.

And while she'd been away
on a quick hallucination,

the whole world seemed
to have lost its mind.

- I'm calling the cops!
- Connie: It's us, honey!

Steven:
Open the door, Plum.

- Ohh!

Oh, thank God
you're OK!

- She drove all night
from St. Louis.

What were you doing
in St. Louis?

My plane was grounded,
then I got a rental.

Steven told me about
your withdrawal drama.

It was the only way
to stop her from calling 911.

- The phone calls, baby.

You said you started modeling,

that Benny the Bengal Tiger
was a good kisser--

I thought you were
having a psychotic break.

I didn't want you
to worry.

- You could have died.
- Please don't exaggerate, Mom.

Shit, shit, shit, shit!

This Verena woman,
what's that about?

Who pays somebody
that kind of money--

- You told her about Verena.

- This is so typical--
- Enough. Enough.

We all did what we did,

but it sounds like you're
joining a cult or something.

- I mean...
Damnit!

...what kind
of therapist bribes you

and then forces you to go off
doctor

She didn't!
Verena wanted me
to get more pills.

- She feels guilty
because her mother was--
- Steven told me.

- That's not the point.
- You shouldn't be getting
the surgery anyway.

There's no reason to let Verena
torture you for money.

Connie: You're beautiful
the way you are,

and you have a good life, Plum.

Things at work are finally
starting to work out--

Stop. Just stop. Please.

I get it. You love me,
you were scared.

I get it, I'm sorry.
But I'm not a child.

And I'm not a moron.

We don't think that.

I don't want
to be a glamazon.

I just want to
get on an airplane

and not have to apologize
to the person I sit next to.

I want to go to a bar
and get hit on
by some bald guy,

and I want us to argue
about whether said bald guy
is actually into me

or whether he
just wants to get laid.

- I know.
- You don't, Steven!

You can't!

Going off Y,
I got my feelings back,

and it made me remember why
I wanted 'em gone.

Don't say that, honey.

No, no.
What I realized was,

I don't hate myself--
the wor hates me.

For being like this.

Every day I walk around
in this skin,

people look at me
like I have the plague.

They act like I'm a stain.

They stare and laugh and yell,

and worst of all,
they tell me I have
such a pretty face...

and then they lecture me
on how I can fix my body,

because how I am is wrong.

- That's not true.
- It is true.

You can't see it
because you love me.

But if this is it,

if this is my life,

if this is my body...

I'd rather be dead.

**