Original subtitles

- Am I dead?

both: This appears to be hell. Could you explain?

You're being an asshole.

- Impressive, right?

Been doing this so long, I can tell

what people are going to say.

My record is an hour.

[laughs]

Oh, but I won't keep you,

Somebody is waiting for you.

- What does that mean?

- Gloria, pick up at the front gate.

- I don't do pickups.

- The fax says what it says.

- What's this bullshit?

[gates creaking]

[foreboding music]

- Have fun.

* *

[creature squawks]

- So Gloria... Gloria, the demon.

- The head demon.

I don't do pickups,

so let's see why I'm doing a fucking pickup.

Name: Zachary Bean?

- Everyone calls me Beans.

- Eh, I've heard dumber. Job: oh,

guess we'll be working together, Beans.

You're Devil's new assistant.

- What, the devil? Why me?

I--I never even hurt a fly.

- Devil created the bureaucracy.

The bureaucracy assigns the jobs.

They know what they're doing.

And cut the "never hurt a fly" shit.

Like there's a threshold with flies,

kill 100. you go to hell? News flash: there isn't.

Nobody knows why anyone is here,

and nobody fucking cares. Ah, demon dick.

Uncle-fucking cats.

Trying to kill us all.

- [laughs] Okay. This must be a bad trip.

I took too much ketamine,

I'm actually in an alley, getting molested

by a homeless guy.

I really hope I'm being molested by a homeless guy.

- You're not hallucinating.

But if dangerous alleys are your thing,

we've got the best.

- Oh, shit.

* *

[jaunty music]

* *

- Hell needs something.

- Baby, enough with the changes.

- When God put me in charge, He expected greatness.

I--I just--I don't think we're there yet.

- Violent torture was great. Remember torture?

- Never again. That crap traumatizes

both the victim and the perpetrator.

- What about ball stomping?

- Well, that is not torture to me.

- I just got new pair of stilettos.

Real nut poppers. - Ooh.

[laughs] Hey, the new guy!

Gotta go, Reggie.

- The fuck did I tell you about calling me--

- Sorry, Regina. Regina.

Why'd I say Reggie? Gemini.

So let's see. My new assistant's name

is Beans. Is that Welsh?

- I--I'm from New Jersey.

- Says you died when a bus fell on you.

Not ran over, fell on. What is that about?

- I have no idea.

- Better than choking on a Tide pod, I guess.

Do I really need an assistant?

I made the bureaucracy to take

these decisions off my plate,

but still, what to do?

What to do? Circus peanut?

- Um, no. Thank you.

But hey, Devil, if you don't want me, that's cool.

You could, I don't know, send me to heaven instead.

- I get it. Hell's about suffering, right?

Wrong. I got tired of the lava look,

so we gentrified.

Now hell's the address to impress.

I want my citizens to be happy.

All the coolest stuff ends up in hell,

so why not enjoy it?

- Oh my God. Are those Zunes?

- You know it, baby. Now what can you do

to plus this place? No pressure.

I don't think Gen Z has anything we need.

- I was a social media manager.

- We need that! Oh my.

Social media is exactly what hell's been missing.

- It is? I assumed you invented it.

- No, no. Humans and free will, right?

McKinley, get in here.

This is President McKinley. He's my left hand.

- I'm sure he knows who I am.

- I have no idea who you are.

- Pleased to see American schools

are still tip top. - McKinley, meet Beans,

my new assistant and social media manager.

- [sighs] Wonderful. - You hear that?

We are gonna Zuckerberg this shit.

- Social media fuels depression and influencers.

We do not need it.

- I can see it now. The app

to bring hell together like never before.

We'll call it, Chit-Chat.

The slogan? Show Me Your Chits.

- In my expert opinion, that slogan is terrible.

- Market research.

Show me your chits!

[loud bang] - Fuck you.

- Too small a sample size.

Show me your chits. - Ah, fuck!

- Uh, and the rest is history?

- Not that your schools would know.

- Circus peanut?

- How's the Soc-Med coming?

- Okay. I think. Hell's Internet

is self-contained, like North Korea's,

but with more pop-up ads,

so I had to hack into Earth's and steal

a copy of Chatroulette,

and then I built Chit-Chat on top of that.

- Hello?

- Hello, welcome to Chit-Chat.

I'm-- - What's this for?

- Uh, well, we-- - You want to see my dick?

- I do not.

- Oh, whoa, whoa. Let him speak.

- If you don't want to see my dick,

I don't know what this is for.

- My friends, we are about to usher in a new age.

This is a key moment in history.

[cell phone buzzes]

[energetic music]

Gotta go. Keep working out the bugs.

You've got the conn.

- He's very busy.

- [panting]

I need scrotum bandages. - That's not a thing.

- You're not a thing.

- I just don't know what it's for.

- Chit-Chat is stable,

but clearly, we need to teach people how to use it.

- What we need is less rattlebrained ideas like this

and the return of proper leadership.

Someday, hell will learn to fear

the man who conquered Puerto Rico.

- When were you president?

- Are you spying on me?

- Oh, no. My name is Beans.

I'm Devil's new assistant, and I'm--

- Is Devil there? He could settle an argument.

Here, Kitler. Kitler...

Kitler thinks the neoclassical vision of aggregate production

requires an exogenous role for capital goods,

and I think he's just a kitty.

- I'm sorry, ma'am, but Devil is--

- Quiet, fool. That's a cat.

- What?

- Nothing. Sorry to interrupt.

- Devil went home for the day. - [meows]

[yowls]

- Well, then I just don't know what this is for.

Is it for this? - Ugh!

* *

- Who is it?

- Pizza delivery, my lady, but I've no money to pay.

Maybe we can come to an arrangement?

[seductive musical flourish]

* *

- Devil, it is the customer who says, "Let's make a deal,"

not the pizza guy.

- Oh, I don't know.

* *

[cats grumble]

* *

- Huh, my own apartment.

I can't believe hell is a step up for me.

- [meows]

- Kitler, is that you?

Here kitty, kitty. You lost, buddy?

- [yowls] - Ah!

You stabbed me.

[cats growl]

Oh! Oh, no.

Not my sock! Son of a...

- Hey, bad kitty.

Stop it. Get off of him.

- Why?

- Gotta watch yourself around cats.

They're the only true evil in hell.

- Thank you.

[warm music]

- Oh, well. Good thing he came along.

* *

- Huh? - Yup. Devil makes sure

they never know where he is. Oh, ya shit that bed.

* *

- [growls maliciously]

[cats meow]

- [screams]

Ow! Ow! No!

Not my other sock!

* *

[banging at door]

* *

- Regina. Aha!

- The fuck? - It's the cats.

They're making their move.

Agh!

- They never would have challenged you

if you'd kept the old ways.

- Not the time for that argument!

[growls]

- There's my king.

* *

[people screaming]

* *

[sirens wailing]

- This normal for hell?

- No. This is new.

- This normal for New Jersey?

- Well, Newark maybe.

- He told the cats where you were.

- Shit, Beans. You've been here

less than a day.

- I didn't ask for--

[ominous music]

- What is with your pants?

- What's you, you pants?

- I can have three battalions of riot demons

ready to go by lunchtime, maybe brunch,

but I'll get pushback from the union.

- Let them loose, sir.

Let hell burn, as it should.

- I keep hearing the same things:

riot demons, torture, fire and brimstone.

No, I've created something new.

Whether people like it or not, this is hell,

and it can only be run by the boss from hell,

and that is me.

both: Sir, yes, sir.

- Exactly what I've been saying.

- McKinley, clear the streets, then meet me at the stadium.

Gloria, the Twine District is burning.

Save it. Beans, you're with me.

* *

- [clears throat]

* *

If you're gonna be part of hell's inner circle,

you need to be prepared to pay for your mistakes.

[dramatic music]

Stake McKinley to the ground.

- Wha--what are you doing?

- I know two things, Mr. President.

First, you're the best number two

I've ever had. I'd never fire you,

but you do need to remember who's in charge.

Second, I know you're allergic to cats.

- No, sir. I apologize sincerely.

- Attention, all cats.

Innocent man with allergies here.

Give him your dander. He hates it.

Yeah, come on.

Rub your asses on him, you little twat waffles.

You know what to do.

[cats vocalizing menacingly]

- [coughing and sputtering]

* *

Murderation, please stop.

Oh, oh, no!

- That's all of 'em, sir.

- How does this seem so wrong, yet work so well?

- Beans, I can tell

you care about people. I like that.

Stick with me, pay attention,

and you'll be a lord of hell in no time.

- Doesn't that hurt? - Fuck, yes.

Dear God, added social media to hell today.

Worked out some bugs and a few cats, L-O-L.

Haven't spoken in 6k,

but would love feedback on my new initiatives.

Devil.

- Regina, no.

- Then I don't know what this is for.