All language subtitles for The Blacklist - 08x06 - The Wellstone Agency.AMZN.WEB-DL.NTb.English.orig.Addic7ed.com

"Not expressly stated."

Five letters,
second one is an "A."

How about "tacit"?

No wonder
I haven't been able
to finish a crossword

since you moved in
with Max.

How is he,
by the way?

I wouldn't know.
We broke up.

What?
How did I not know?

When did he move out?
He didn't.

His parents own the place.
It's one of their rentals.

So I'm staying
on the pullout
in the office.

You're sleeping
in your family restaurant?
Before you freak out,

it's just temporary.

Come sleep on my couch.

I'll help you binge-eat
your way past Max,

and you can
help me figure out
the three-letter word

for "it has benefits."

Uh, give me a minute?

Mmm-hmm.

This is Park.

Yes. Of course.

Sir, I'm sorry.

Can you hold
for just one moment?

Hey, everything okay?

Landlord troubles.
Story of my life.

Didn't look like
landlord trouble.

J-O-B.

Three across.
"It has benefits."

The answer's "job."
Go do yours.

I'll call you tonight.

Agent Park.

Why is it the really wealthy
always want to own
a restaurant?

I'm sure for some
it has a lot to do

with glad-handing
and backslapping.

For me, it was sort of
a friend in need.

Now it's a project.

We're expanding.

And this, an office.

With a stove
and a walk-in.

Are you hungry?
I could make you
an omelet.

No, thank you.
I ate.
Coffee?

Cooper's tied up
at Main Justice.

He said you had a case.

What do you know
about the Nuremberg trials?

Military tribunals
after World War II.

Allied Forces prosecuting
Nazi leadership
for war crimes.

They gave the devil
his day in court

and invented simultaneous
translation to do it.

Are you giving me a case
or a history lesson?

If it weren't for
the Allies' desire

to give Goering
a fair trial,

the Wellstone Agency
might not exist.

In fact, it doesn't exist,
not officially.

And yet its services
have made thousands

of illicit business
transactions possible.

A translation service
for crooks.

Crime is a global trade.

Criminals
need to communicate,

and that requires
interpreters they can trust.

The Wellstone Agency
provides just that.

A bunch of translators.

I believe Agent Keen recently
acquired Wellstone's services.

If we find
the interpreter she used,

we may be able
to find her.

Why come to us?
You're a criminal.

Haven't you used
this company before?

I have.

But my point person and I
recently had a falling out,

and without him,
I have no way to reach
the senior leadership.

I need your help
to get inside the company.

Have you considered
simply leaving Keen alone,

taking a breath to consider
your role in all this?

Harold isn't in
a meeting, is he?

No.

I came here to tell you
I think what you're
doing is wrong.

You're only
making things worse
for Keen by pursuing her.

It's Paula.
Glen's mother.

She says
she needs to see you.
Says its urgent.

Agent Park, next time you feel
the urge to unburden yourself,

you can rest assured,
I've heard it all before.

It's a luxury to stand
on the moral high ground

and critique those of us
on the low ground.

A lot of people
do exactly that.

Until they need my help.

I'll never
ask for your help.

And yet here I am
asking for yours.

The Wellstone Agency.

It's the next name
on the Blacklist.

According to Reddington,

the agency's inner workings
are cloaked in secrecy.

Even their own interpreters
are kept in the dark

as to who runs
the organization.

So how do they
communicate?

Through dispatchers
who contact
the criminal parties,

arrange payments,
and assign interpreters.

The dispatch has
all the information.

The interpreters
know nothing.

But Reddington's lost contact
with his dispatch,

so what's our in?
His interpreter.

Wellstone relies on
its interpreters
for referrals.

It's how they
recruit translators.

So Reddington's interpreter's
gonna refer someone we pick.

And that person
gets brought in and vetted,

giving him a window
to access the system

and get the name
of the interpreter
Keen used.

Maybe the name of the person
she was negotiating with

and for what.
Under normal circumstances,

I'd reach out
to Language Analysis.

But what
our interpreter learns
may compromise Keen.

So I want
to keep this in-house.

Well,
I only speak English.

I speak Korean.

Does sign language count?

Definitely not.
Then I'm down to six.

You speak
six languages?

Well, not including Latin,

which I doubt
would come in handy,

unless the criminal
I interpreted for
was the Pope.

Imagine that confessional.

Park, reach out
to Reddington.

Tell him Aram's going in

and to arrange a meeting
with his contact.

Ressler, start laying
the groundwork
for a cover story.

As if I'm not already
asking you to do too much,

I need you to try
and open this drive.

Okay. Is this
about a case?

I'm not sure.

Which is why I need you
to keep this between us.

Nobody knows.
Especially Reddington.

Paula, hi.
Steven.

I got your message.
Is everything alright?

Oh, thanks for coming.

Hello, Bill.

Oh, uh, the girls and I
were just tasting the cakes.

Come in.

Oh, would either of you
like a slice of cake?

Um, lemon, carrot,
and pink champagne.

No, thank you.
Maybe later.

What are we celebrating,
Paula?

Maybe you boys
should sit down.

Is Glen here?

Glen transitioned.

I don't know
what that means.

He died.

What?
What do you mean?

From West Nile.

W...
Oh, come on.
Come on.

If this is one of Glen's
dreadful practical jokes...

I would have gotten
in touch sooner,

but I have been so busy
with the planning
and the party.

He didn't want a regular
funeral, you know.

Jelly Bean
wanted his friends
to send him off

with a real shindig.

A potluck with dancing,
and Huey, of course.

West Nile?

Paula, I am so sorry.

Oh, thank you, Bill.

When did this happen?

A bit over
two weeks ago.

I know. I should've called,
but you slipped my mind.

And then Trudy and I
were going through

some of their dirty letters,
and we found this.

I was halfway inclined
to open it,

but you were his friend,
and I want to respect
his wishes.

He didn't send me
no letter.

Hey, Paula, what do you
think about Luke

bringing his
chicken tater bake?

I think
it'd be real popular.

I can't believe
this is happening.

Boys, I gotta go.

There is too much to do
before Huey gets here.

But do come
to the party.

Jelly'd want you there,

tomorrow at 7:00
at the DMV.

And don't forget
to bring a covered dish

and your own tableware.

What the hell?

She was lucky
to get out.

Jenna.
Hey.

I came as soon
as I got your text.

What happened?

Fire in the kitchen.

The smoke alarm
didn't work.

The doctors are prepping
for surgery now.

But she's gonna be okay?

They...

They don't know.

Hey, talk to me.

What's going on?

Last year,
we started to fall
behind at the restaurant.

The banks
wouldn't touch us,

so Melissa went to
a local guy for help.

You borrowed
from a loan shark?

And it did help
for a while.

But this month...

It's the fourth payment
we missed in six months.

This is the guy who came
to see you yesterday.

He did this to Melissa.

I knew it was dangerous
not to pay,

but I didn't think
they'd do this.

What's his name?

He works
with other people.

They'll come for us.

That won't happen.

I promise.

Let me
take care of this.

She was living there.
You know that?

Melissa,
the youngest daughter.

What, are you gonna arrest me?
For what?

Loan-sharking. Arson.
Attempted murder.

I don't know where you got
your information from,

but nobody would be
stupid enough

to point the finger
at me.

Is that a threat?

Did you just threaten
my witness?
Take it easy.

Because that's sure as hell
how it sounded.

Honestly, the gall!

After all I've already
done for him?

All the jobs,
the attention paid.

All the time spent
suffering his antics.

All the money,
that ridiculous sports car.

He was a civil servant,
Raymond.

How could he explain
all that stuff?

The money and all.
I understand that.

But why is it
somehow my job

to help explain away
the fortune I paid him?

He had to
say something.

Something, yes.

But the man
told everyone he knew

that he was
Huey Lewis's muse.

How in any stretch
of the imagination

does that explain his crazy,
extravagant lifestyle?

What, Huey Lewis bought him
a red Mercedes?

And does Huey Lewis
even have a muse?

Did Glen
really tell his mother
Huey would attend?

"This friendship
with Huey

"has always accounted
for everything,

"my travels to Europe
and Bangkok,

"all the cash, the cars,
everything in Vegas..."

I mean, I can't even...

"Even the absence
of any other
long-term relationship

"over the last 30 years.

"Huey is, in a word,
the reason." Two words.

"Which is why his failure
to attend my memorial

"would be seen
as a snub so great

"that I'm afraid
it may send Mother

"into a heartbroken tailspin

"which she may never
recover from."

Mmm.
I mean...

Talk about
the power of love.

How is this possible?

It's as if he's reaching up
from the grave

to torment and abuse me
one last time.

Raymond,
Glen needs you.

To do what?

To bird-dog
some pop star

to inform him that
his most beloved songs

were inspired by his bromance
with a clerk from the DMV?

He needs you to convince Huey
to come to his memorial.

Well,
I'm not doing it.

It's his dying wish.

No, it's one
of his dying wishes.

What's the other?
Forget it.

What does it say?

Ah. "Mother wants to place
my remains on her mantel.

"I don't like the idea
of spending my days

"looking down on Mother,

"so I want you to abscond
with my ashes
and spread them."

Spread them where?

"I want to spend eternity
at the glorious feet

"of that grand dame,
the Statue of Liberty."

I don't think it's legal
to spread ashes
on Liberty Island.

Well, it doesn't matter,
because I'm not doing it.

I'm not lying to Paula
or spreading his ashes...

...and I'm certainly not
hunting down Huey Lewis

or begging him
to come to Glen's
potluck memorial.

What is it?
It's Glen's mom.

She's asking if you can
bake a tray of scotcheroos.

They're short
on desserts.

Okay.

Raymond, you know
we have to do this.

For Glen.

See if you can find
Mr. Lewis's address.

But I'm not breaking
into the Statue of Liberty

to spread Glen's ashes.

Stealing from Wellstone
is a terrible idea,

but Reddington's made it clear
I have to vouch for you

and get you
inside the company.

So let me be blunt.

I'm not your friend.

I think that this is
a suicide mission.

And the only reason
I'm helping you

is so that we both
don't end up dead.

Okay, let me try
and say this
back to you.

I take the pill.
I black out.

Then I wake up in the custody
of people I don't know

for a test I might pass
in the hopes I get the job

instead of
getting killed?

I told you
it's a bad idea.

Okay, if I could
just get to...
It won't work.

All I need is the name
of one client's translator.

They have to have logs of...
You're not listening.

These people run
a criminal enterprise.

They traffic in secrets.

And to protect those secrets,
they will not hesitate

to kill you or me,

or anyone else
they think is a liability.

It's your funeral.

Whoa.

Welcome back,
Mr. Stone.

Did you have a nice rest?

I, uh, don't remember
getting here.

My name's Miss Jessica.

I'm here to discuss the matrix
of tests we'll administer

to see if you're
a candidate
for Wellstone.

Matrix of tests?

Uh, what tests?

I'm so glad you asked.

We'll begin with a simple
polygraph-augmented
consultation.

Baseline questions.
Work profile.
Personal history.

Relevant experience as well
as potential conflicts.

And we'll follow that
with an aptitude test

and behavioral inquiry.

Of course, we'll want
to gauge the strength

of your language
of expertise.

Dialects. Prose. As well as
vocabulary and expression.

And we'll audit that
with some mock sessions,

scripted scenarios
based on actual encounters

to test neutrality,
composure, and patience.

But before all of that,
I do want to stress

that our
primary objective here
at Wellstone is privacy.

Without discretion,
we can't protect
our clients,

ourselves, or you.

So, Mr. Stone,
can you be discreet?

Yes, I'm Mr. Discreet.

You wanted to see me?

The arrest that
you made earlier.

Mason Dieterle.

Yeah, he burned down
my friend's restaurant.

I just got off the phone with
the AUSA reviewing the case.

He told me that your friend
passed away from her injuries.

I'm sorry.

He also told me
that he declined
to file charges

for either arson
or attempted murder.

What? Why?

He... He burned
down that diner.
This was arson.

The AUSA said he didn't have
any evidence to prove that.

Can you prove
that Dieterle was
responsible for that fire?

Do you have a witness?

A print on
a can of gasoline
or accelerant?

No, I just thought...

That's the problem.

You didn't think.
You reacted.

Dieterle was arraigned
on a loan-sharking charge

and made bail
20 minutes ago.

I'm concerned, Alina.

You have a history
of acting on your anger,

at times
letting your emotions
get the better of you.

Now your friend is dead,

and the man that you think
is responsible

is back on the street.

I need you to promise me

that you will not
do anything about that.

Do I have your word?

Yes.

You do.

Mr. Lewis,
I just want to say
it's a privilege.

I mean, great pleasure
to meet you.

Well, I appreciate that.
Thank you very much.

Thank you for agreeing
to see me.

I take it you're something
of a culinary man.

I love to cook.

Uh, to be honest,
Mr. Homan...

Steve, please.

Okay,
to be honest, Steve,

I only agreed
because my manager insisted.

Ah, I did Jerry
a favor once.

Well,
a friend of Jerry's.

Must've been, uh,
quite a favor.

Uh, can I
get you something,
like coffee or...

Oh, no, no, no, no.
Thank you, thank you.

I don't want to take up
any more of your time
than necessary.

Mmm-hmm.

I'm here because
a dear friend of mine

passed away recently.

Pillar of his community.
Mmm-hmm.

Loved his mother, Paula.

Wonderful, wonderful woman.
Mmm-hmm.

And he...

Well, he absolutely
cherished your music.

He knew every word
of every song.
Oh.

Really.

Now, I realize it's a bit
of a long shot,

but I was wondering
if you might consider,

for a price, of course,

might consider attending
his memorial service

at the Rockville,
Maryland, DMV.

It's tonight,
7:00 p.m.

The DMV?

Yes, Glen was
regional manager.

Did, um...
Did Jerry know

that this is what
you wanted to ask me?

As I said, uh, I sort of
did him a favor once.

To play the funeral
of some guy
at the DMV?

Regional manager.

You do know
that Quincy Jones

asked me to sing
on We Are The World.

Ah, uh,
a stirring performance.

And a great honor and...
And tribute.

Love of your fellow man
and all that.

Not entirely unlike the love
a son might have
for his mother.

A desire
to make her proud.

To impress her.
Mmm-hmm.

Things were said
through the years.

I think he...

He told his mother
he inspired you

to record
Workin' for a Livin'

after a rousing game
of beer pong

in the back of a bar
in Teaneck.

And she believed him?
Believed him?

Oh, no, no.

To her, it would
make perfect sense

that her son
was singularly responsible

for your legendary song.

And that you, who benefited
from her son's inspiration,

would want
more than anything
to show up

at his memorial service
to pay your respects.

Okay.

Is... Is this a joke?

Did... Did Ralphie
put you up to this?

I am so sorry.

I mean it.
You can name your price.

To play
the Rockville DMV?

Oh, no, no, no.
You don't have to play.

Just show up.
Say a few words.

Plus, if you do,
I'll owe you a favor.

I'm a good person
to have in your debt.

So you'll do
whatever I ask?

Absolutely.

Great.

Then I'm gonna ask you
to please leave

because I got an interview
across town in an hour,

and I got to eat
and get ready,
and I don't want to be late.

Sorry.
You have to go.

Thank you, Mr. Stone.

Miss Jessica will be
with you momentarily.

Okay.

Yes.

This is certainly
unexpected.

That is what I thought.

What happened
to being discreet?
Excuse me?

I was waiting for you
when I spilled my soda.

Then I came to your desk
for a tissue

when I found this
on your computer.

Is this how this works?
I don't follow.

All of you people
are putting me through
a matrix of tests

to find out
if you can trust me,

and yet you carelessly
leave this client profile

open on your laptop.

What if I were
an FBI agent undercover

and saw the profile
of this guy, this...

Alexander Frayne?

This is sloppy.
I don't like it.

Perhaps my assistant...
It doesn't matter.

This is lazy.
It's unprofessional.

I'm sorry
that this has shaken

your confidence in us,
Mr. Stone.

I do hope
you'll reconsider.

Reconsider?
The job.

You passed
with flying colors.

If you'll have us, we'd like
to welcome you to Wellstone.

Harold, please give me
good news.

Agent Motjabai
got a name.

Liz's interpreter
was Alexander Frayne.

Uh, he works in DC for
the UN Human Rights Council.

We've notified MPD.
Units are en route
to him now.

This is Alexander.

Mr. Frayne,
you have a problem.

I got lots of them.
Who is this?

Someone who can offer you
a way out.

The FBI knows you moonlight
for the Wellstone Agency,

and the MPD are on their way
to arrest you.

They're here.
How did you know?

Make your way
to Dupont Circle.

You're looking for
a black Mercedes.

Northwest corner
of Connecticut Avenue.

Hello, Mr. Frayne.

Who are you?

Why are you helping me?

Quid pro quo,
Alexander.

You interpreted a meeting

between this woman
and another party.

I need to know who she met
and what they talked about.

I can't help you.

Let me rephrase.

N-No, no. I...
Wait, I'm...

I'm not saying
I won't help.

I'm saying I can't.
I don't know who he was.

You facilitated
their conversation.

He was Bosnian.

But they don't
give out names.

Uh, she paid 700 grand
for a manilla envelope.

I never saw
what was inside.

Who has the names?

The head of the company,
I guess?

I don't even know
who that is.

But if you send the right
message, he'll get it.

Your contact at Wellstone.

Call them.
Say you have a situation.

Let them know
Raymond Reddington
wants to help.

Jenna, nothing's
gonna happen to you.

I promised you'd be okay.

I said I'd take care of it,
and I will.

I just came to talk.

You sent men
to Jenna's apartment?

You didn't have to do that.

I told you
I just wanted to talk.

Hey.

It's Agent Park.

Something's happened.

I need your help.

Hello?

What the hell
did you do?

Jorgensen?
They know. About us.

The company knows
there's a mole.

Uh, what, uh...
What are you talking about?

They think
the FBI is onto them.

I told you that
this was a mistake.

And now I got a target
on my back because of you.

I got to call you back.

Is, uh, something wrong?

I need you
to come with me.

The Colonel would like
to see you.

** The air is still

Reddington. I told him we were
going to pick up Frayne,

and now Frayne's gone because
Reddington got there first.

But we sent agents.

Wellstone knows
someone outed Frayne.

Aram.
I already called him.

He's not picking up.

** There's no turning back

Ah, finally.

Oh.

Uh, hello.

The Colonel here
lost his hearing as a child.

Nasty case of meningitis.

Colonel? Uh,
the man who runs,
uh, Wellstone is deaf?

Indeed. The head of a company
that provides translation

needs a translator
to be understood.

In this case, you.
So please sit.

** How long will it last?

** How long?

** How long will we run?

"You prevented the arrest
of one of my translators.

"You had him inform
his contact that

"there is a problem
in the company
that you could solve."

Yes, you have a mole.

Tell him he has a leak
that puts us both at risk.

** Don't know how we got here

"No. Impossible."

It's why Mr. Frayne
was nearly pinched

and why the FBI knew
where to find him.

"There is no leak."

Uh, there is a mole,
and he works for the FBI.

He led them to Frayne,
which means he can
lead them to you.

Now, you can be stubborn
about it

and wait around for the feds
to show up,

or you can do exactly as I say
and live happily ever after.

"Do you know
who the mole is?"

Yes.
He's a federal agent

working undercover
as an interpreter.

** How long?

** There's no turning back

"What do you
want me to do?"

First, delete my file.

Now.
Before the feds arrive.

Second, in exchange
for giving you a way out,

a new identity,
I want a name.

Last week, a woman using
the name Carolyn Givens

hired Wellstone.

I want to know
who she met with.

** How long?

** How long will we run? **

I can read.

"Wait.

"The mole.
I need his name."

Why? It's over.
He won.

Killing him won't
change the fact

that you need to come
with me now.

"I need to know a name.

"If you don't give me one,
I'll kill him.

"Either because
he's the mole

"or to set an example
of what happens
when you betray me."

Normally, I'm a big believer
in example setting,

but I specifically requested
your newest interpreter

because the leaks predate
his employment at Wellstone.

He's not the mole.

And we need to go. Now.

Okay, what do you mean
he recorded the conversation?

Evidently, Reddington
was wearing a wire,

one we'll tell
the Justice Department

that you were wearing.

You think
we can make a case?

I do.

A lot of Wellstone
employees and clients
are going to prison.

But not the owner.

Mr. Reddington
promised the Colonel

that he'd help him escape
in exchange for the name

of the person
that Liz met with.

You didn't see
that person's name?

Mr. Reddington
made sure I didn't.

Adin Markovic.
He's a Bosnian bounty hunter.

Evidently, Keen
used Wellstone
to hire him.

Mr. Reddington
told you the name? Why?

Because we're
on the same team.

And because he knows
we have to work together

if we have any hope
of bringing Keen home safely.

Adin Markovic,
this bounty hunter,

we'll see what
we can find on him.

Agent Park.

I spoke with the AUSA.

There's been a development
in the case

involving
your friend's death.

It appears
Dieterle is missing.

Will you help?

Alina,
you promised me

you wouldn't do
anything to Dieterle.
I need to know.

Did you break
that promise?

No, sir.

Mr. Cooper.

Mr. Cooper, um,

about, uh, this drive
you wanted me to decrypt.

Uh, I can't.

I reached out to a friend
at the NSA.

Do you trust him?
I do.

Good. Because if he
tells anyone about this,

his life
could be in jeopardy.

Keep me posted.

Yes, sir.

Raymond, you have
to tell Paula
he's not coming.

Oh.

He gets her hopes up,
and I have to be the one
to dash them.

Glen at his finest.

Oh, my God.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

You came!

I brought the scotcher...

Hello.

Oh.
You must be Paula.

Oh, Glen has told me so much
about you, but, oh, my gosh,

you're even more beautiful
than he described.

Oh!

Glen, he was
one of the good ones.

One of the unusual ones,
for sure, but...

But, you know, that guy
could always brighten my day.

You know,
I remember when we were
recording our third album,

Johnny had written
this great progression

and he had a little bit
of a melody,

and it was up to me
to come up with the lyric,

and I couldn't do it.

I tried and tried,
and I was stuck.

I just couldn't come up
with anything,

and I remember Glen came over

and we went out
for chili dogs, of course.

And I just broke down
about this song.

And I told him, you know,
"I don't know what to do.

"This is super important.

"If we don't have a hit
with this album,

"the label's gonna drop us,"

and Glen put his hand
on my arm

and looked me dead in the eye,
and he said,

"Hey, if this is it,
this is it."

And, boom, there it was.

I mean, that lyric
and that song.

I mean, this is what Glen did.

He, you know... He...
He was like a muse to me,

and I loved him.

But he wouldn't want us
bawling all over the place.

He'd want us
to have a good time.

Like Glen used to say,
"We're not here
for a long time.

"We're here for
a good time," so...

Raise a glass,

or a chicken wing,
or whatever you got,

'cause tonight
we celebrate my muse.

Tonight,
we celebrate Jelly Bean
and his big, old heart.

(WE'RE NOT HERE FOR
A LONG TIME, WE'RE HERE
FOR A GOOD TIME PLAYS)

** There's a party
down on the corner

** Do you wanna go?

** They got rhythm
a little blues

** And a whole lot of soul

** I don't care what
you've got to say

** You're comin'
with me anyway

** We're not here
for a long time **

What are you doing?
Oh, my goodness.

I can't believe
you came.

Thank you, thank you,
Mr. Lewis.

Didn't hurt a bit.
What happened?

What changed your mind?

You did.

Mr. Reddington.

You spoke to Jerry.
Yeah.

And I got to know 'cause
I can't get my head around it.

Why in the world
is Raymond Reddington

running errands
for a DMV desk clerk?

Regional manager.

Yeah, but why is this guy
so special

that the world's
most wanted fugitive

is arranging
his memorial service?

People often
hide from me.

Glen was good
at finding them.

I-I didn't ask you
what he did.

I asked
what made him special.

That's a bit
more complicated.

Ah, I'm sure it is.

I'm sure it's
incredibly complicated.

And weird and strange.

But I like weird
and strange.
Ah.

You said I could ask
for any favor,
that's the favor.

You want me
to tell you about how weird
and strange Glen was.

I want to hear
your eulogy.

I want Raymond Reddington
to tell me

what was weird
and strange and beautiful

about the regional manager
of the Rockville DMV.

You know who I am.

You know I can do
some very big favors.

Oh, trust me,
I thought about asking you

to scare the bejesus out of
my pal Bruce Hornsby.

That'd be good.

Uh, but the truth is,
you can't do a bigger favor

than revealing
somebody's heart and soul.

No, I don't suppose
you can.

Yeah, I did my part.

I gave my eulogy,

and in exchange,
I'd like to hear
your version.

Mr. Lewis, big fan.

Thanks.

What... What is that?

The remains
of a Great Dane.

We're friends with a vet.

He works at a shelter
where they cremate pets

who have to be put down.

But I told you I wasn't
gonna steal his ashes.

And I know you well enough
to know that,

in the end,
you probably would.

I... I'm sorry,
but, uh, what's going on

with all the beans
and the baggies
and the ashes?

I'll explain everything
on the way.

** Have yourself a good time **

Okay.

Here we are.

Glen.
Right.

Glen.

Glen was...

So many different things.

A son.

Civil servant.

A proud member of
the Spare Me bowling team.

Two-time runner-up at the
Southern Regional Tournament.

And a great...
A truly great tracker.

But he was...

Ah, brother.

He was a lot more than that.

Glen was...

Infuriating.

Insulting.

Just so maddening.

He was a hedonist,
a chauvinist,
a liar, and a cheat,

but there was one thing
Glen was not.

And that's afraid.

Glen was not afraid.

He wasn't afraid of judgment.

Of being wrong.

He wasn't afraid
of friendship.

Or romance.

A bad joke.

A good laugh.

He was never afraid
of a good time.

Or bad timing.

Or consequences.

Or of an impossible task.

Or any kind of danger.

And he certainly
wasn't afraid of me.

Ever.

No matter how hard
or unfair life was to Glen,

Glen loved life back.

He embraced it without
reservation, regret,
or remorse.

And that is...

Rare.

I wish...

I wish more people
were unafraid like Glen.

It's the thing about him
I'll miss the most.

And I hope it'll be
some time before

all my memories of him

start to fade.