Original subtitles

Previously on Masters of Sex. Because I'm not going to convert.

What are you saying?

You picked me. Viv, you picked me.

It galls me to say it, but she may be one of my better students.

Mrs. Johnson has a tendency to overfill her plate.

The study needs to be a priority.

Because if she did manage to stand on her own two feet, that would mean she

could walk away.

I know there have been other women.

No.

Hope you have a pleasant evening.

Dale gets me women. I came here tonight to meet a prostitute.

We have to divorce.

I do not want a divorce.

Barton, this marriage of ours is broken.

We can resume the camping with Bill's frozen sperm, but he knows the odds are

essentially a million to one. If he thinks I've intervened, he will have my

head. Something has happened.

You're pregnant.

But that's, uh, that's not possible.

I wanted to give you this.

And I came up with the amount by adding up the times we've participated.

Did you pay yourself?

Of course not. It's my study.

I don't mean this.

Because if you mean this... Take the money.

Hey.

Do you want to be alone?

There you are.

Together.

Aren't we supposed to be together?

Ordinarily, we'd be taking your intake separately, but if Dr.

Masters is breaking with tradition today, I will find you some pencils.

Now, questionnaire is essential to our research, so just think of it as eating

your greens first.

Well, I think we can skip straight to dessert tonight.

In fact, take the questionnaires home.

You can mail them back to us. I'm sure Mrs. Johnson can provide a stamped

envelope.

Tell her to remove the pins from her hair. They'll interfere with the leads

from the electroencephalogram.

Which actually we won't be using tonight. Actually, we will. Tell her to

remove her earrings as well.

Bill, we're collecting data on male respiration during climax.

Not anymore.

Subject F26184 is multi-orgasmic.

We were discussing her sexual history while you were... wherever you were.

Mimeographing the questionnaire.

so that we can collect a comprehensive sexual history. Nonetheless, multiple

orgasms is a notable phenomenon, one we don't encounter often. And a bird in the

hand is worth two in the bush.

Am I the bird or the bush? She's a volunteer.

And if you would prefer to start with something more basic, like male

respiration during climax... She's already said she wouldn't. You can

sustain your plateau state during multiple episodes of female orgasm,

can't you?

We've only allotted 30 minutes.

Bill, we have two more coming in at 10 o'clock. I imagine they'd survive the

wait.

Just like I did this morning when you were half an hour late.

Should we wait outside?

Pam?

Hey.

I came over early and sent her home. I hope that's okay.

And the kids?

Comatose. Since 8 o'clock.

I was kind of hoping that would buy me sleepover privileges, as long as I'm out

of here by the time they wake up.

Then we'll see how it goes.

The last patient tonight passed out the second she climbed out.

We've killed her.

We've killed our first subject.

Bill said it was the vaso... Vasovagal response. It's like a power surge in

your central nervous system.

Is it related to the vagus nerve?

Which leaves the medulla, exiting the skull through... The jugular for

Raymond.

Bill's gonna be working for you.

What's the matter?

Too many qualified applicants.

I don't understand. You already have a job at the university.

I have a fellowship.

I applied for a permanent staff position and didn't get it, which is the same as

being fired.

But why?

Your patients adore you. They get pregnant just so they could hang around

your office.

My patients are at the provost of Washington University, whose daughter I

didn't marry.

Do you really think Scully would do that?

I'm an idiot. I should have seen it coming.

I'm going to have to throw myself on the mercy of the court.

Obviously, I don't want to leave.

That makes four of us.

You look about as beat as me.

Bill, on a good day is no picnic.

It's all gotten so strained for weeks now.

I never asked you exactly what went on with you and Bill.

Participation in the work became complicated.

You know what?

It doesn't matter. Whatever forces made it happen, I'm here now.

And that's all that matters.

The reality of our time.

The fact that atom bombs may someday be dropped on our cities.

And let us prepare for survival, understanding the weapons of transit.

Civil defense radiological teams, equipped with radiation survey meters,

will check on contamination in any bombed area.

Stay undercover until you hear officially that it is safe outside.

If you have been exposed to radioactive dust, wash the exposed areas.

Pay particular attention to your hair.

If the people of Hiroshima and Nagasaki had known what we know about civil

defense, thousands of lives would have been saved.

If I had known we were going to be watching movies, I'd have bought

popcorn.

So act now.

Someday your life may depend on it.

This morning, at 9 Eastern, the President declared a state of national

emergency and threat of invasion.

An unknown number of Soviet warplanes have penetrated our airspace.

200 cities have been targeted.

Today, it's a drill.

But tomorrow, it may well be reality.

This exercise is the largest-scale civil defense simulation... in american

history half a million federal employees and state and local personnel will

participate as will this hospital at the sound of the first siren you'll take

cover in a secure room away from windows and doors just as you would in an actual

nuclear event this evening there will be a second siren where you'll rehearse the

hospital's intake and triage functions now this is more than a test of

readiness it's a test of your resolve our will is stronger and the forces that

would do us harm and erase our way of life.

And your vigilance today may spell the difference between life and death.

And now a few words about nuclear fallout. In the event of a thermonuclear

blast, radioactive particles... Four dot.

It's all over the radio.

They're emptying Times Square.

I heard Eisenhower's evacuating the White House in a helicopter.

Better hope it doesn't crash.

Can you imagine Dick Nixon as president? We should all be preparing for the

worst. You know, the Lippincotts dug a bomb shelter.

They didn't. Right under the rose trellis.

They've got a six-month supply of canned food, a pump toilet, and the complete

works of Shakespeare.

Three bam.

Honestly, the bomb is the least of Peggy Lippincott's worries.

She caught Donald with his dental hygienist.

He flew to Reno for a quickie divorce.

Well, if Donald's cheating on her, maybe she's better off with Adam. Sometimes a

divorce can be a blessing. For a 53-year-old woman?

So she's going to lose the house. She's looking for rentals in Forest Park, and

it's filled with Italians.

I ran into Peggy in the parking lot at Croker's. She said all their friends

have picked sides, and her daughter stopped speaking to her. She told Peggy,

you must have done something to drive Daddy away.

The husband strays, the wife paves.

Oh, two dot.

Mahjong. Oh.

Well, if the Russians drop the bomb, at least Peggy's store of canned goods will

last twice as long.

I'd rather be at ground zero.

Where do you go? Count them up. Okay.

Dr.

Masters?

I was looking for you in your office.

You're not my one o'clock.

Unless you're a very spry 68.

I don't have an appointment, but my sister said there would be no shame in

asking for help.

She said you would know what to do.

What to do about...

I'm

three months pregnant.

These are the papers from the test to prove it.

Well, that's happy news, but there is a protocol for new mothers. First, a

scheduled consultation for you and your husband. I don't have a husband.

Or a boyfriend.

If this is about an unwanted pregnancy, and you're asking for my assistance,

you've come to the wrong place.

You don't remember me, do you?

It's probably the clothes.

Last time you saw me, I wasn't wearing any.

I volunteered for your science project.

You did.

Forgive me.

That was some months ago, wasn't it?

It was three months ago.

You have checks for your signature?

One for the slide projector.

I never paid Lester. Virginia, you have signing authority. Use it.

Don't take it out on me if your bedside manner is costing you patience.

Well, that woman was not a patient. She was a volunteer.

In a study?

Was she a solo participant?

Unfortunately, no. Otherwise, she wouldn't be pregnant.

in her test results.

Three months.

Claims she had no other recent partners.

Oh, my God.

That poor girl.

What was she asking for?

Something I'm not at liberty to give her.

She came back to find out the name of the man she was paired with in the

study.

Who was she paired with? I don't know, and it doesn't matter. Anonymity is the

bedrock of our work.

I am ethically bound to safeguard the privacy of all participants, hers

included, if the roles were reversed.

You mean the man had gotten pregnant.

Diaphragms have a 6% fail rate.

We have paired over 200 couples.

Given a large enough sample... Accidents are statistically inevitable.

Accidents?

You're talking about a baby conceived in one of our exam rooms. By a volunteer.

No one forced her to participate. You cannot pretend that we have no

responsibility. We made a promise to protect the identity of our subjects.

We can't go back on that.

We have to do something.

Well, something was done three months ago.

We drew up an ironclad legal waiver.

She and her partner both signed it, meaning we...

I'm not liable for any unintended consequences.

Can I sit?

I wouldn't advise it.

I don't know what Vivian has told you about our parting, but I want to

explain. If I was in the mood for a post-mortem, I'd go down to the morgue.

Sir, your daughter is smart.

She's beautiful.

She knows her own mind. She's devastated, my daughter, wondering what

she did wrong, how she failed you, tearing herself up as if this is her

fault when the truth is you're the one that can't find his own ass with both

hands.

I'm asking you to separate your personal feelings from your professional decision

to terminate me from this hospital.

You think I got to be provost by holding on to grudges? I was prepared to accept

the board's decision to hire you, but I didn't have to. You were not

recommended. That can't be true. I read the letter Dr. Kernaghan wrote. You

failed your performance review.

Some of your superiors had concerns that you lacked the professionalism.

and character to represent this institution.

It was Bill.

I could only vouch for your lack of character in general.

I wanted to love Vivian. I really did.

But you can't pick what you love. My daughter dodged a bullet.

Let's leave it at that.

You know the heat blast from an H-bomb can incinerate a telephone pole two

miles away?

What do you say we get out of here and take a drive?

I'm a casualty.

I'm a doctor. We're a perfect match.

Civil defense is nothing to joke about. And you should be thinking about your

wife at a time like this.

I wonder if the secretaries are friendlier in Moscow.

What?

Honestly, we're as shocked as you are.

Her name is Flora Banks.

First of all, you never told me their names. They were simply numbers, night

after night. I... I have no idea. She's blonde.

26 years old. 5'7". Average size breasts.

Typical areoli.

Everyone has typical areoli.

They were paired with her on March 10th.

For one episode of missionary coitus lasting six minutes, 18 seconds.

This is a joke.

What about all the other guys you paired her with? I mean, I was paired up with

maybe a dozen.

She only had one partner in the study and no boyfriend, so she filled out a

detailed sexual history.

Look, this is your problem, not mine, okay? It's your study. I was basically

an organ donor.

And if she didn't use protection, then it's... Her diaphragm failed.

It happens more often than you'd think.

Six minutes and 18 seconds.

What does she want from me? I mean, does she want money?

At least balances our checkbook. She's like a... She's like a bloodhound. I

have no idea what she wants.

And I'm not saying this is anything other than extremely unfortunate, but I

thought you deserved to know.

Here's her name.

And her phone number.

What did Bill say about all this? Just forget about Bill for a minute. I am

willing to help here in any way I can.

If you're at home when the bomb hits, just stick a white plate on your

windowsill. Any dust that collects is probably fallout.

And if you discover you do have fallout?

I think you're supposed to close the window.

And today, when the thingy goes off?

The air raid siren.

We're just supposed to lie there?

If you have a desk, get under it. I know some of you share, but just do your

best. What the hell is going on? The telephone's ringing off the hook.

Sorry, Dr. Masters.

I'm fourth floor hall marshal for civil defense.

When Chris Jeff pushes the button, you can have the morning off.

Until then, you're still my secretary.

Johnson, we are under attack.

You need to find a safe place and stay put until they sound the all clear.

We're supposed to be face down on the floor.

Although I think that's chewing gum.

Frankly, I hope a bomb does hit this hospital.

I'm not having a great morning either.

There was a letter waiting on my desk.

The university has approved my pap smear proposal.

That's fantastic news.

They included a check.

$600.

Nearly as much as the hospital spent on emergency bibles for its civil defense

program.

Not enough for lab equipment or a proper staff.

We'll pay for mimeographs and the hiring of a secretary at minimum wage.

Well, Rome wasn't built in a day. Neither were outreach clinics.

We'll get it funded eventually.

Eventually isn't good enough.

I wasted three months in that proposal laying groundwork, sucking up to the

administration.

I'm sorry.

Sucking up. I've been perfectly polite with the board. I'm sure you have been

polite. You might want to try being pleasant.

What does being pleasant have to do with women's health?

Cervical cancer isn't pleasant.

Bill Masters isn't pleasant.

That's true.

But the rules are different for men and women.

Trust me, a little charm goes a long way.

Pearls of wisdom from the stenopole.

Okay. I apologize if I'm overstepping.

And I know we've had our differences, but I've sat in your class.

I've read your proposal.

And if this place was a meritocracy, the board would be throwing money at you.

And the fact that it's an uphill climb that just proves that the work is

important.

If anybody has the backbone to see it through, it's you.

Well, thank you.

See, that's how it's done.

Trust me, you'll catch more flies with honey.

The chancellor of Washington University is not a fly.

Even better, he's a wasp.

Just ask him about his golf game.

His master's under his desk?

He's got a uterine myoma.

And by the way, Austin, you should be on the ground with your hands over your

head. I'll take my chances.

What the hell are you doing?

Air raid siren means nuclear attack.

The attack is a simulation.

Unlike Mrs. Gallagher's fibroids, which I assure you are real.

Bill!

Bill, thank God you're here. Look, I need to know if I'm protected in this

thing. There is no bomb.

No, not the bomb.

The study.

Look, I'm not insensitive to the needs of women. I mean, I read Jane Eyre in

college. Or, no, Jane Austen. Dr. Langan. I already have a family. I've

just gone out. I mean, my wife's father is an ex-cop. Austen. Anytime we're at

the house, he drags me down to the basement to check out his gun

collection. Austen, shut up.

The anonymity of our subjects is non-negotiable, even in extraordinary

circumstances. You are protected by the forms you signed.

They are, in effect, ironclad.

So, I'm all clear.

You are all clear.

Okay.

It's Dr. Epstein.

He's a casualty.

I need a second.

Who's on call?

Dr. Haas will be coming in.

That's unacceptable.

Dr. Haas is not qualified to assist in a myomectomy.

He performed one two days ago.

Dr. Masters, it's been an unusual day.

We're at war with Russia. Mrs. Gallagher has been under for 25 minutes. We all

need to make accommodations.

Head injuries over here.

Amputations are over there.

What are you, radiation poisoning?

So you're making a movie.

Not a feature film, per se. Technically, it's more of a live-action documentary

short.

But if the Reds nuke us, this could be the last record of human civilization.

Like the relics at Pompeii.

Pompeii was an ancient city.

Where they opened that new Woolworths?

So what is it you want us to do, exactly?

Oh, just jump back under those desks of yours. So you can film under our skirts.

Jane, Jane can vouch for my bona fides as a director. We have spent several

evenings together conducting important scientific research.

He's obviously delusional.

It's probably all the toxic chemicals in the photo lab.

You know, real movie directors don't walk around with their flies down.

No matter how we try, here's our way.

Singapore sling.

Haven't had one of those in 30 years.

Crisp, I had one now. You'd have to wheel me home in a stretcher.

Are you... working here at the hotel tonight?

Do I look like a chambermaid?

No.

It's just you hear rumors about the Chadwick Hotel that...

Lonely men come here to, you know, meet women.

Vic, the check.

Please wait.

I'm not going to call a policeman. I just want to talk to you about your job.

It's about my husband. He enjoys the company of professional women and he

doesn't enjoy mine.

I thought if I knew some of the tricks of the trade, how to give him what he

wants.

You're joking.

Please, I'll pay you for your time.

Two Singapore slings. You got it.

On Mamie Eisenhower here.

So what, you got him shacked up in some flea bag with a girl half your age?

I saw him with the man who arranges his dates for him.

A pimp.

I suppose that's the word for it. But he looked more like one of the caddies at

the club.

Meaning? A clean cut.

Charming, very handsome.

Maybe the growing pimp's different these days.

I suppose my point is, you must work with married men.

What do they want?

They've all got their little quirks.

Like cars.

Some of you gotta jiggle the key in the ignition.

Some ride hot.

Some need a jump start.

They've all got wheels.

You just need to know which pedal to push.

What does your husband go for?

He loves opera.

Salisbury Steak. Agatha Christie.

I meant in bed.

We don't sleep in the same bedroom.

But back when I was able to lure him into my room...

Well, we never looked at each other.

You screwed with your eyes closed.

He preferred for me to face away.

Like he couldn't look at me.

But it's not like he looks at other women. I mean, we went to Tahiti a few

years ago.

They don't wear tops there. The native girls, all those perfect brown breasts,

just like a Gauguin painting.

But my husband, he just sat there on the beach with his nose in a medical

journal. He never even turned his head.

He's queer.

He's very queer, yes. Thank you.

No, sweetheart.

He's a homosexual.

You can't give your husband what he likes.

Your husband likes boys.

Nicely done, Dr. Hassen. Thank you.

Did you know that I have the highest surgical success rate of any fellow at

maternity in the last ten years?

I checked.

You'd think that might factor into a performance review.

Actually, my rating's within striking distance of yours when you were a

fellow.

Numbers aren't everything.

Oh, I thought you were a god when I got here.

Even bought a bow tie.

We're never going to be friends.

But I respect you as a doctor.

And I think you respect me too. And if you want to know the truth... I don't

respect you.

Not in the least.

Maybe it's the fact that I'm with Virginia now, huh?

That's what this is really about, isn't it? Clear the room. All of you, out.

Now.

She didn't have to tell me, you know.

It was obvious.

Who, Virginia? 16 years of medical experience. You think I believe in

miracles?

Did you think I wouldn't know with her sleeping right there beside me? You're

lucky I don't come after your medical license.

I have no idea what you're talking...

I'm talking about my pregnant wife!

That he's pregnant?

Jesus.

I know what you did.

You're finished at this hospital. Any normal man would be shaking my hand

right now. I mean, you may not like the way it happened. You stepped into

something you can't even begin to understand, like a...

Child.

Willful and stupid.

Completely unaware of what you've done.

I can't, Libby, because you were too selfish to do it yourself.

I like your wife.

She deserves to be a mother.

And you know what?

Even though it cost me my job, I'd do it again.

Dr. Lillian DePaul, one of your happy minions on the fourth floor.

What a delightful necktie. What would you call that color?

Red.

You look like a man who enjoys the links. Are you a member at Norwood

Hills? For 20-odd years.

Although I never find the time.

Of course, they find the time to bill you.

My wife's on the membership committee.

What's your wife's handicap?

Estelle had polio as a girl, but with her cane, she gets around just as well

as you or I.

Well, speaking of women's health, I have a program in cancer detection which

could use the support of a man with your unique vision.

What form?

Well, a check, ideally. What form of cancer?

Oh, cervical.

I suppose if a woman were going to dabble in cancer, that would be the

natural choice.

Or uterine. Or breast.

We have two of those.

I'd welcome the opportunity to walk you through my proposal. My secretary can

arrange an appointment.

I spoke to her. Your next opening is in three weeks, but I thought if you were

free for a drink this evening... Dr.

DePaul. Lillian.

Dr. DePaul, I don't know what kind of notions you've picked up on the fourth

floor, but I am a happily married man.

Shut the door.

Perhaps I didn't make myself clearer this morning. You are not to bother Dr.

Langham about this pregnancy matter.

Pregnancy matter?

Do you have any idea what it takes to raise a child as a single mother? We

don't know the first thing about that woman, Virginia.

We know plenty.

We know the diameter of her areolae. We know her heart rate during climax, how

quickly she moves into the plateau phase, systolic pressure.

Exactly. Our subjects stand naked.

in our exam rooms. They copulate with strangers.

What we offer in return is a simple promise, a promise to honor their

privacy, a promise you broke. I did not break Langham's anonymity. I gave him a

choice. No, you trapped him, Virginia.

He no longer has a choice because he can never unknow what you told him.

You did this all on your own against my wishes, honest to God, Virginia. Who do

you think you are?

Everyone take your positions. We have 1,400 casualties on the way.

Ethan?

That's stage blood, isn't it? Unfortunately, no. Your boss sucker

punched me.

Bill hit you?

Thanks, Roberta, would you?

I guess I deserve for giving the guy the best gift of his life.

Ethan, what is going on?

It has to do with Libby.

Her blank shooting jackass of a husband.

And how she really got pregnant.

Well, California's been wiped off the map.

Pronouncing death tolls on the radio like they're baseball scores.

What are you doing here?

I remembered you like to swim at night.

Had to get out of the hospital.

Couldn't bring myself to go home.

All anyone wants to talk about is the end of the world.

Feels like it is the end.

Look, I know we didn't leave things on the best terms.

If you want me to buzz off...

Did you

bring your bathing suit?

Thank you for meeting me.

It's been quite a day.

Did the doc tell you to call me?

Clean up the mess.

Well, that would take a pretty big mop.

I'm not fishing for a husband, if that's what you think.

I didn't even like that guy.

But... This kid is half his, and I thought maybe I could get to know him.

Thank you.

I'm sorry. I can't give you his name or his information.

And what is this?

Not enough.

It never is.

Trust me, I have too.

Which is better than nothing.

This is from you.

No, it's from the man who's responsible.

I hope I didn't ruin your shot.

Oh, um, I can cut around you.

Though I'm no great fan of montage.

I don't suppose you've read Andre Besson's ontology of the photographic

image.

I'm waiting for the movie.

It's pretty theoretical.

Pseudo-realism versus true realism.

What's the difference?

Honestly, I have no idea.

You know the film you're shooting won't survive a nuclear attack?

Nothing will.

Except cockroaches.

And Godzilla.

They don't tell you this in civil defense class, but I've been reading

this book on the beach, and the H-bomb has a blast radius ten miles wide.

If one falls on St. Louis, they won't even find our teeth.

It'll just be numbers and an official death toll added up in some city far

away.

Heavy.

At the end of the day, if you're facing global annihilation, you can only be

accountable for yourself.

If it were the last night on Earth, I'd feel really bad about what I said to you

earlier.

So... I'm sorry.

And if it were the last night on Earth, I'd kiss you.

I need to speak with you, Bill.

I'll have to wait until tomorrow.

It's past dinner hour.

Libby will be expecting me home.

Is she?

Expecting.

I do hope you'll congratulate her for me.

After everything she's been through, it is wonderful news.

Libby's pregnancy.

Virginia. Bill, I never felt smaller than I did the day that you offered to

pay for my participation in our study.

I spent weeks trying to figure out why you would treat me that way.

Like I was just some random volunteer.

Or worse, but now I understand.

I'm sure you can imagine Libby's reluctance to talk about the baby.

That's not why you didn't tell me.

It's because you felt guilty.

Because you had formed an attachment to me.

It's been a trying day. You're emotional.

No, Bill.

You are.

You do always say that we can't let emotions cloud our judgment, but you

did.

Which means it was never really about the research.

No, we were having an affair.

Are you finished?

No, not quite.

I met with Flora Banks tonight.

Subject F26132.

And I gave her a check for $2,000 from the discretionary fund.

You did what?

You obviously think that money is the best way to handle the problem.

That is a gross violation. I have the legal authority. You granted it to me.

Although it still is a fireable offense.

I got some lousy news today.

So did I.

Trust me. I think I got you beat.

Of course, if they drop the bomb, none of it matters anyway.

You

know

we're building artificial satellites?

Shoot them into space and they just float around.

No tether.

No responsibilities.

That's how I used to feel.

They're not actually floating.

Hmm?

My daughter took a science class. I borrowed her book.

There are thousands of objects in orbit.

Gravity pulls them toward Earth.

As the Earth keeps curving away underneath them,

they're not actually floating.

What they're really doing is falling.

So you still need a secretary.

You look nice.

I look like a rodeo clown.

Though a clown would have had more success charming the chancellor.

The chancellor works for the trustees, doesn't he?

Technically, I suppose.

Will it?

We'll just have to charm them.

over Seattle and a single megaton blast over Detroit in this grim rehearsal for

disaster.

Early estimates suggest more than half the country's population would have been

killed or injured in the day's attacks, with clouds of radioactivity rendering

parts of the country uninhabitable for years to come.

In New York City alone, the death toll stands at 2,339,000.

The all-clears have sounded.

But all is not well in America tonight.

Our sole consolation, it was only a test.

Tomorrow looks black, so we live for the day.

Peace, peace, peace, where did you go?

Oh,

peace, peace, peace, where did you go?

Oh, peace, peace, peace, where did you go?