All language subtitles for Future Man S01E11

Previously on Future Man:

If someone is important to
Joshy, it's important to me.

- He is family.
- Yeah, well,

I never had a family.

I've always been a soldier.

Life made you a soldier.

You were born to be a chef.

You keep fighting to
make a better future,

but I found the best future,

and it's in the past, right now, 1985.

I love the '80s!

You have to get on that boat.

If you don't, my colleagues

will shoot you as a baby.

That's resistance law.

Punishment for desertion is death.

Any chance that's good?

That's the Kronitorium,

where the super cure was engineered,

where the Biotics were born.

This building isn't supposed to exist

for another 50 years.

Fifty years?

Well, Kronish should
be long gone by then.

Kronish was only
supposed to cure herpes.

That research was the
basis of the super cure,

which didn't happen for
years after he died.

So, whatever you said to him drove him

to work on the super cure himself.

What the fuck did you say to Kronish?

Nothing, nothing, I didn't say anything.

I mean, you know, I had
to get him on the boat,

so I told him to follow his heart,

to choose love.

And maybe I peppered
in, like, a little bit

of detail about his future.

What?

You never tell anyone
about their future.

That is time travel 101.

I even know that and I
didn't go to your stupid

made-up time travel college.

Okay, well, maybe there's still time

before the cure's released.

Maybe we can go back
in time and fix this.

Maybe there's, like, a
really cool solution

that we don't know of yet in the future.

No, no, no, there's no "we."

Coming back for you thinking
you were our savior,

that was the biggest mistake
I've made in my life.

There's only one way to fix this,

and I'm doing it by myself.

Tiger, I'm sorry.

Tiger, where are you going?

Far away from you, fuck nose.

Who's there?

What are you doing in my bushes?

What I need to do.

I've traveled a long way to be here.

Well, you sure picked a
rotten day to do it.

You're wetter than a Kentucky catfish.

Well, get on in here.

I'll get you some dry clothes.

Something warm to eat.

Alrighty.

What were you doing standing out
there in the rain like that?

Oh, that's all right. You don't have
to answer if you don't want to.

Let me put the kettle on.

Is there anyone else in
the house right now?

'Fraid not.

It's just me and Elias here.

He's the man of the house
since his daddy, Clarence,

passed a few months back.

Never even got a chance
to meet his only son.

Hi.

- There you go.
- He was a soldier?

Fought bravely for his country.

Saved 16 of his men on Omaha Beach.

That's how he lost his first leg.

How'd he lose the second one?

Frostbite.

Used his one good sock as a tourniquet

to stop one of his men
from bleeding out.

So, okay, this... this
baby's dead father

had no legs?

Oh, it was hard on him coming back.

Went to war a hopeful boy,

and came back a legless man.

Not many opportunities for
legless black men these days.

Okay.

The last battle that he fought

was against tuberculosis.

Never gave up, right to his last

excruciating breath.

Seems like you know a
thing about hard times

or two yourself.

Yeah, I've eaten some rat, so...

you know, it hasn't been all bad.

Just trying to keep food on the table,

round up whatever scraps I can

to keep us warm and alive.

I thank the Lord for
this little miracle.

Stop it.

Oh, I don't even think
I'd have the strength

to go on without him.

This little sweet child
is the only family

I have left in this world.

Oh, look at me rambling on.

That's your tea.

Do you mind holding him?

Oh, oh, here we go.

Now, careful with the top of his head,

he's still got that soft spot.

You know, doctor says
that one wrong push

could kill him instantly.

Imagine that!

I'm gonna kill you.

Tomorrow.

You sure you don't want
a night off, Tiane?

Oh, you hush now.

You know, there's no place I'd rather be

than caring for your youngin'.

Oh, I think the cornbread's burning.

Oh, heaven bless that nose of yours.

You sleep tight.

I'll kill you tomorrow.

Tiane, why don't you say grace tonight?

Oh, I'd love to!

Thank you, oh Lord of this time,

for giving us this shelter and warmth,

and the sweet bounty of
chitlins and hushpuppies.

- Amen.
- Amen.

- What can I get for you?
- Two hushpuppies, please.

Alright.

Estelle, will you tell
that beau of yours

to quit fooling around and
take the dang picture.

Best do what she says, Jerome.

Milkman got fresh with
her the other day,

and she punched him
square in the biscuits.

- Mm-hmm, guilty.
- Look up!

Here we go.

Happy Birthday!

Oh, greetings.

Ooh.

- Thanks.
- Uh-huh.

I just put the little ankle biter

down for a nap.

He had such a tickle
playing with that new

slinky thing-a-mabob.

You should've seen him,
he was in fat city.

Tiane, I have news.

Maybe you should sit down.

Gladly, dogs are barking.

Been on these stompers all day.

Well, don't run out of gas now,

you haven't even put her into drive.

Tiane, he finally did it.

He proposed.

Oh!

Look at that.

Well...

it's about damn time if
you want my two cents.

Tiane!

I know I shouldn't cuss,

but that man has been
holding a torch for you

for way too long not to be acting on it.

He's asked us to move in with him.

Mm-hmm, we've been
outgrowing this house.

What, with Elias sprouting up

like a cornstalk in late July.

No, Tiane.

He asked me and Elias
to move in with him.

- Oh.
- We're starting a new life,

a new family.

Maybe it's about time
you did the same thing.

Oh, now, what about Wolf?

I am sure he's out
there thinking of you.

No, no, Wolf's made his choice.

He's living the life he wants to live,

and that doesn't include me.

Honey.

You made a family here,
and I'm sure you can

do it out there, too.

You need to find your people.

You'll always have a place
at our Sunday table.

Oh.

Oh.

You've been very kind.

You know, I never intended
to be a part of your family.

In fact, I came here for
something else entirely.

I should say goodbye to Elias.

Did you leave a knife in Elias' crib?

It's a gift.

Give it to him in his fifth year,

when he comes of age.

Oh, I'm so sorry, Wolf.

My name is Wolf, I was born
in the worst of times.

Hey, knifers keepers.

No rules in the rat pit.

Hey, that's hers!

Get him!

Yeah, get him, Tiger!

Hey, Wolf.

Heads or tails?

Tails.

In 1985 I was reborn as Corey Wolf-Hart.

It was the best of times.

And I had a particular set of skills

that allowed me to dominate.

Really?

Oh, God! What's happening?

No, no, no, no!

No, no, Richard!

Richard, no!

We have money!

I'm sorry, Linda.

Sorry I couldn't protect us.

Prepare to dine!

In a past life I lived each day

knowing I could've died at any moment.

So that's the gift I gave my customers:

an immersive dining experience

that made them feel like
they were gonna die.

Welcome to Wolf-Hart's.

Because only then could they truly live.

So, wait?

We're not gonna die?

Not today.

Oh my God!

It was as if they were tasting food

for the first time.

Oh my God.

Combine the natural
adrenaline your body creates

the moment before death

with the best food in the world.

You know where you're going?

Heaven.

But you don't have to die to get there.

I love you so much.

I love you.

I don't say it enough.

Life made me a soldier,

but I was born to be a chef.

But I wasn't some kind
of second-rate hack

flourishing on a gimmick.

I was a God damn artist,

a culinary futurist creating food

eons ahead of its time.

A taste of the tundra.

Elk carpaccio,

elderberry reduction,

raw snails,

and a lichen gastrique.

Pairs nicely with
our cocktail of the evening:

the Blazing Nog.

Blaze was the perfect wingman.

The Goose to my Maverick,

the Rain Man to my Charlie,

the Coughlin to my Flanagan.

Though, that last one's a deep cut.

Cocktail!

And, boy, did he know how to mix 'em.

No, Richard, no!

He also kidnapped anyone I told him to,

and didn't ask any questions.

Not one.

Nothing about Wolf-Hart's was legal.

I was a cash-only business
in a condemned building

in the most dangerous part of town.

And still, they flock to me.

The rich, the famous.

Like moths to a flame.

More stars came in Wolf-Hart's

than in Rob Lowe's Malibu fuck pad.

Ms. Roberts?

I don't normally do this,

but I just rewatched Steel Magnolias,

and that scene where you
seizure with the juice...

it gets me every time.

It's so funny.

I wasn't in it for the money.

But that's just what people say
when they're rolling in it.

Yep, everything was hunky fucking dory.

Then in 1989, Wolf-Hart's won

the coveted Bocce Sausa for
World's Best Restaurant.

I'd achieved everything
I set out to since

that fateful night in 1985.

But still, something was missing.

I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

All right, I got something
important I gotta say.

When I first met Corey,
I didn't know what

kind of volleyball
player he was gonna be.

But, Corey, after four
life-changing years together,

I know exactly what
kind of player you are.

You're the kind of player
that will convince a friend

to stop being a prostitute.

You're the kind of
player that will teach

that same friend how to read.

But above all, you're the kind of player

that will never leave a teammate behind.

Ever!

To Corey!

Yeah!

Woo-hoo!

Hey, bro.

Not to overdo the volleyball thing,

but you gave me a bump
when I needed one.

You look like you could
use one right now.

Woops, that's a little more than a bump.

I think we'll go ahead and split it...

Whoa!

Yeah!

There we go!

Oh, hey, Blaze, man.

Read that magazine article out loud.

Yeah.

A dash of dan... dan...

Danger.

- Danger!
- Yes.

A pinch of pan...

panic.

"And a mouthful of menace."

L.A.'s bad boy Chef Corey Wolf-Hart

"conquers the world."

You've been a bad boy.

You've been a very bad boy.

Where are you going?

My water just broke!

So did this case.

There was no downside to cocaine.

Period.

If you have a chance to try it,

I strongly recommend it.

I assure you, that pelican was murdered

in accordance with Maritime Law.

I'm not here because of a dead bird.

I'm here because of a dead partner.

Oh, no, what happened to Blaze?

What?

No!

My partner!

Oh.

Thank God.

Hey, you don't walk away from this.

You know how much shit I've
caught chasing ghosts.

Whole precinct calls me crazy.

Leave magazine ads all around my office

for Obsession perfume.

Oh, Calvin Klein?

He was in here the other night.

He's a good friend of mine.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

How's your other friend?

The one with the purple hair?

Hmm?

You know, it's funny...

I spent all these years

thinking I was chasing radicals.

Turns out I was just
hunting some sellouts

serving overpriced pelican soup

to undeserving yuppie scum.

It's bouillabaisse.

You're no idealist.

The only thing you care
about is yourself.

And from the looks of it,

you don't even do a good job of that,

you strung out piece of shit.

You got nothing on me, Manilow!

Now get the fuck out of here.

I'll be seeing you, Corey.

No, you won't.

You're blacklisted.

You and Danny Aiello.

Have fun dumpster diving at Spago,

you fucking dipshit.

My encounter with that handsome cop

didn't affect me one bit.

If anything, it inspired me
to kick things up a notch.

I had to make sure I
was truly challenging

my clientele's core beliefs.

It wasn't enough to make them feel

like they were gonna die in their time.

I had to make them
understand what it was like

to live in mine.

Fromage a trois.

Hmm.

What is this one?

Roquefort, camembert?

Buffalo dick cheese.

Eat left to right.

I experimented with
bold, new ingredients

to give my customers a
scavenger's palate.

Maggot risotto.

Bat wing fritto misto
with a side of guanomole.

And my pièce de résistance...

unseasoned rat miscarriage.

Bon appetite.

Mmm!

By late '92, I'd nixed myself,

Stevie Nicks,

as in did so much coke I couldn't taste

or smell anything anymore.

I can't smell it!

Oh!

Not even the moruga!

Oh!

But in spite of all that,
like Fleetwood Mac,

Wolf-Hart's was still an institution.

I didn't have a roadie
to blow coke up my ass,

but I did have a Blaze.

Fire in the hole!

He had quite the lung capacity.

Ah!

I got it.

Every one of you has been lucky enough

to feast on my creations.

Now, behold!

My greatest creation yet!

Where I'm from, you had
to fight for every bite.

And that's exactly the kind of hell

I'm about to put you through.

Two men enter,

one man leaves

with a white truffle from Alba, Italy.

I give you the Truffledome!

You, what's your name?

- Greg.
- Greg!

You get the lance.

You, what's your name?

Lance.

Lance, you get the ax.

Wait, switch weapons.

All right, warriors.

On my signal, unleash hell!

Now!

- Who is gonna draw first blood?
- This thing's heavy.

You know, this looks pretty sharp.

One of you needs to draw first blood.

Let's go!

Have I taught you nothing?

Stop giggling in the Truffledome!

I'm getting tired.

Who's gonna pin who?

Heads or tails?

Heads or tails?

Heads or tails?

Heads or tails?

Heads or tails?

Heads or tails?

Then it all hit me.

No matter how much I
simulated it for them,

these people never had to fight

for anything in their lives.

They would never understand

what I'd been through.

And the only person who ever did,

I abandoned.

The lance for Lance!

I'm Greg!

I'm just a banker!

Those are your last fucking words?

Get the fuck out of here.

This is pain.

This is real life!

Somebody fight me!

Get out of here!

Corey?

You okay, man? Should I be worried?

You're gonna need to
disappear for a while.

Got nowhere to go, man.

I got a buddy who lives in Brentwood

with a guest house.

His name's OJ.

OJ Simpson?

He's a good guy.

Just live in his guest house.

Life will be simpler for you now, Blaze.

Just go!

Where are you gonna go?

Where I've always belonged.

I was once a part of
something that mattered,

part of a team that mattered.

A family.

I threw it all away for a
mission of self-discovery.

But all I discovered
was that leaving you

was the worst choice I've ever made.

I let you down, Tiger.

I let humanity down.

And you're not here to give me

the deserter's death I deserve.

But I got another trigger man in mind.

All I can say to you is...

...I'm sorry.

End suicide note.

Hands up, Wolf-Hart.

Jesus, what the fuck are you doing?

Blowing my last butt rail.

What does it look like?

Your little battle royale
has every cop in this city

looking for you, so why'd you call me?

Justice needed to be served.

And you're the man to do it.

So, come on!

Shoot me in the heart.

Feed my corpse to the hungry.

I got a better plan.

I'm gonna feed you to the
criminal justice system.

Get your confession,

make a little call to
the Santiago family

that's 24 years overdue.

No, I'm sorry, Detective.

That's not the justice I'm looking for.

But I do have a confession for you.

Killing your partner was fun.

Shut your fucking
mouth, you butt junkie!

What kind of an idiot

drives right into a
subatomic sensor mine?

I know what you're doing.

You think you're the first punk

who's every tried to suicide-by-cop me?

No.

Maybe I'll be the last.

Now, don't do it, Corey!

Surrender!

Never.

What the fuck?

You look terrible.

So do you.

I got your message.

Oh, yeah.

Truffledome sounds
like my kind of party.

Let's get you home, soldier.

Freeze!

Where'd they go?

Where did they go?

Where did they go?!

Tiger, I'm sorry,

I fucked everything up, I just...

It was all worth it.

It was all worth it to get you back.

You're the only family I need.

Are you...

are you okay?

Yeah.

Looks like you got something back.

Oh.

I did!

Oh.

Why does my asshole feel numb?

I have no idea.

No idea.

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