All language subtitles for the.good.place.s03e07.480p.hdtv.x264.rmteam

Why didn't tell me sooner, man?

- I had already
told you that you died

and that I had tortured you
for centuries

and that you're doomed
to be tortured again.

I just didn't want to be,
like, a bummer.

But now you know everything
important about your life.

I promise.

A police officer came to my
home and told me that my mom

had been accidentally trampled
to death when she bent down

to adjust her toe ring
at a Rascal Flatts concert.

That police officer
was an actor.

See, about a month before,
your mom had gotten drunk,

wandered into a charity auction,

and bid $30,000 for a date
with Gene Simmons,

outbidding everyone
else by $29,800.

She didn't want to pay,
so she faked her death,

moved to Nevada, and reinvented
herself as Diana Tremaine.

- Diana Tremaine is
my fake ID name.

I...

How dare she steal
the identity I stole?

- Look, I know this
is a lot to take in,

but we're here to help your
mom get into the Good Place.

Whatever you're feeling,

remember, this is not about you.

- Right.

How could you do this to me?

- Yay, you found me.

- What the hell, Mom?

- Okay, baby,
I can explain everything.

Let's all just take a breath.

You haven't even introduced me

to this stretched-out,
sexy Alex Trebek.

- I'm Michael.
- It's nice to meet you, Donna.

- Oh, uh, it's Diana now
for, you know, police reasons.

- By the way, whose
McMansion is this?

- My boyfriend Dave's.

He's kind of a dork
but real sweet and so fancy.

His napkins are made
out of, like, shirt material.

- Cloth.

- Okay, now this
is making sense.

You change your name, bag a
rich loser with a tacky house.

I get it.
You're running a scam.

- No, baby, this is
as real as the nails

under my acrylic nails.

- I'm a different person.
- Spare me.

You will always
be sun-baked Arizona trash,

and I know that...

because I grew up
baking right beside you.

- Oh, jeez, I didn't
know we had company.

- Hey. Hi, I'm Dave.
- Michael.

- Of course you're Dave.

Hey, Dave, you and I need to
have a little conversation.

- Diana!
- Oh, hey.

- Who the hell is this chick?

- This is my little
potato pie, Patricia.

And who might you be,
by the way?

- Eleanor is my sorority sister.

- Right. Good old
Kappa Zeta... Jones.

Oh.

- I can't believe
I have to wait in line

to see my own sister.

I have never waited in
any kind of formation before,

let alone a line.

- Wow. Is this whole
room just her work?

- Don't be fooled, Chidi.
- Kamilah is a charlatan.

All she has to do is paint some
dumb shapes, and people go mad.

- Those aren't dumb shapes.
- They're a pair of boobs.

And then two extra side boobs.

It symbolizes that boobs come
in all shapes and sizes

and distances apart.

- Ugh. Maybe we should just go.

There are plenty of other
people I could help,

like my good friend Ben Affleck

and his crippling addiction
to back tattoos,

or my other good friend
Matt Damon

and his crippling addiction
to my friend Ben Affleck.

- It's important that
you make amends.

Your competitive
relationship with Kamilah

is largely the reason you
didn't get into the Good Place.

It stands to reason that
the same would be true for her.

- Fine.
- But the waiting is over.

Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.

- Tahani, were you waiting
in line to see me?

That's hilarious.

As a frog stares up in awe
at the tree top,

so, too, does humanity gawk

at the purity
of a blinding truth.

Napkins and forks
are in the back.

- So making omelets
is art now, is it?

- Not that I'd expect
you to understand,

but it's a commentary
on the world's fascination

with subservience, consumption,
death, and pedagogy.

Cheddar or Swiss?

- Oh, no, I don't
want an omelet.

I just came for
a quick sisterly chat.

- My sister, Tahani,
refuses to order an omelet.

As a result,
the exhibit is now over

and will never be shown again.

There will be no refunds.

- Hey, now. I just checked
my Apple Watch,

and it's marg-o-clock.

So, Michael, what do you do?

- Ah, well, uh,
I'm an architect.

- Get out of here. Me too.
- Ah.

- Dave's real good.

You should see
the new Hooters on I-15.

It looks classy, like a bank.

- So how did you two
love-rats meet?

- Oh, it's a fun story.

I was working on this project
tearing down a condemned bar

called the Desert Rash.

I went in to meet
with the contractors,

and Diana is sitting at the bar
drinking a 7 and 7 and 7.

7 shots of Seagram's 7
in 7 minutes.

It's Diana's morning drink.

Oh, that's right, it was
very early in the morning.

Well, this little spitfire
finds out it's me

who's closing down the bar.

Next thing I know,
she's got a knife to my face.

I would have been scared
if she hadn't been

the most gorgeous thing
I've ever seen in my life.

- Oh. One thing leads to
another, and all of a sudden,

we're playing tonsil tennis
on a broken toilet

- in the alley out back.
- Cute.

- So how did you
and Eleanor become friends?

- Let's just say that we "lived"

in the same
"neighborhood."

- Oh.

What a fun way
to say a normal thing, right?

- Well, I've got
to go get ready.

Today is PTA elections,
and I'm running for secretary.

- And she's a shoo-in, too.

Hey, Patty,
we got to get ready, okay?

- I know we came here to set
your mom on a better path,

but I think
she's doing pretty great.

- Please.
- She's completely full of it.

I am gonna find out

what kind of scam
Donna Shellstrop is running,

and I am gonna take her down...

right after I finish
this awesome drink.

Man, Dave's margaritas
are amazing.

- Right?
- Yeah.

- And I'm not
even a tequila guy.

- Wow.

- So this is what
a museum looks like.

If you look at
this painting closely,

you can really notice
the interpretation.

- I know you're just being silly

and effortlessly charming,

but you actually just picked
the most valuable painting

in the entire museum.

As of last year, that work was
valued at $39.2 million.

- Oh, snap, I forgot
you know everything.

How much is that one worth?

- That one is worth
$13.7 million.

- That one's got
a bunch of colors.

That's got to add some value.

Can we do this
for all the paintings?

- Look, I've had a sort
of revelation about the world,

and I'd like to take
responsibility

for my part in
our fraught history.

For whatever hurt
I've caused you...

I sincerely apologize.

- Thank you.

I do not accept your apology.

Is that all, then?

Well...

Ooh!

- Check out what Dave gave me...

Plans for a Subaru
dealership/burlesque club

he's designing in Reno.

Man, Nevada's a mess.

What are you doing?

- Searching
for the tell-tale sign

of a Donna Shellstrop scam...

A pile of cash hidden somewhere

so she can grab it
and head out on the run.

When the time comes,
she will rip this guy off

and disappear like Keyser Soze,

right after he admitted
to groping all those people.

- Why are you in my room?

- Oh, hey, girl.
- What's up?

How old are you... three?

- I'm nine.
- Cool.

I don't know anything
about kids.

Hey, has Diana ever made you
hide, like, a special treasure

in any of your toys?

- No, Diana's very nice to me.

She bought me most
of these stuffed animals.

Oh, wow. Neat.

Mind if I give them just
a little surgery just to check?

- Okay, okay, okay,
all right, Doc McStuffins,

let's get you some fresh air.

So sorry.

She's a kid.
You can't disembowel her toys.

- Fine. New plan.

You casually mention that
you're rich and seduce Donna.

When she goes for you,

it will prove that this
whole thing is a sham.

First things first,
do you have a penis?

- I will not seduce Donna.

For one thing, I could never do
that to my pal, Dave.

It goes against
the architect's code.

Also, your mother
seems happy here.

- The Donna I know

wouldn't be caught dead in
this suburban boredom factory.

She's scamming them.

Look, believe me,
don't believe me...

I don't care.
I'm gonna prove it.

- Young lady,
you will stop this nonsense.

Go to the PTA meeting
and support your mother.

I won't hear
another word about it.

- What the hell was that?

Well, I was going

for the "stern but,
you know, caring dad" vibe.

No? Didn't work?

- No, not even close...
- Like, not in the ballpark.

- I was trying
something, Eleanor.

Give me a break.

- Until Kamilah
accepts my apology

this open wound will hinder
any progress she might make

toward getting
into the Good Place.

Also, I'm going to strangle her,

which will hinder any air
from getting into her lungs.

Can I talk to her?

- Maybe we should try
a little third-party mediation.

Uh, hi.

I'm Tahani's friend, Chidi.

- Chidi is an Igbo
word that means "God exists."

- That's right

Sorry, I don't know the
etymology of your name, but...

- All of your
fears are now mine.

- What did she say?
- What?

I don't know.
Sorry.

I got distracted.
She's amazing.

All of my fears are hers now.

- Of course they are.

- Um...

- I sincerely apologize to you

because I have matured
into a fully formed adult

with empathy and self-awareness.

But if you don't accept
my apology,

I will smash your stupid
art exhibit into bits.

- More Tahani theatrics
with zero follow-through?

You don't have it in you
to do anything that bold,

because I'm the one
who got the boldness gene

and the good-eyebrow gene.

- Oh! Oh, no.
- All my fears are mine again.

- Hey, Davey, can you believe
the design of this room?

- Auditorium? More like
Audi-bore-me-um.

- Savage.

- Hello, I'm Diana Tremaine.

I never thought
I'd run for PTA board.

For most of my life,
I preferred to crawl...

pub crawl.

But now I want
to make sure kids in this

decommissioned-military-
bombing-test-site-

turned-suburban-township

get the best education
Nevada has to offer.

- What's that...
- Always double down on 11?

- Also, there is a pretty great
kid who goes to this school,

and I want to make
this place great for her.

Stand up, sweetheart.

- Well, it was the first
Hooters ever made out of brick,

sort of inspired by Monticello.

- Hey, mark.
- Oh, no, it's Dave.

- Oh, I know your name.
- I'm calling you a mark.

- Easy.

- I got news for you, dad-bod.

The woman you know
as Diana Tremaine is really

Donna Shellstrop,
my much older mother.

She faked her death
and changed her name.

Sorry to burst your bubble,
but that's the deal.

- I already knew
all that, Eleanor.

Your mother told me everything
the first night we met.

- The first night?

- Well, no,
not the first night, actually.

That was mostly sex.

Your mother is a very confident
and selfish lover.

- Yikes.

- No, no, no,
it's perfect for me

'cause I don't know what I want.

But anyway, the next morning
she told me everything.

And we're gonna tell Patricia
once she's a little bit older.

For now, everything
is going great.

- No, dude,
you don't know my mom.

She used to put, like,
50 things in a shopping cart,

then go to
the "12 items or less" aisle,

scream "rat," and run out
the door without paying.

She is a liar.

- Well, listen, she has been
nothing but honest with me.

And I like that
she's got a wild streak.

It kind of gets
my motor running.

Tell you the truth...

She's turning me
into a bit of a bad boy.

I mean, who am I...
Avril Lavigne?

- Oh, I get it.

Coming clean
was all part of the scam.

It's brilliant because
he thinks she's honest.

So, when she runs off
with all his money,

he'll never see it coming.

- Come on, Eleanor.

I changed, you changed,
maybe she changed, too.

- No, no way.

- Why can't you accept
that she might be living

a good, honest life?

That she's an attentive
partner and a good mom?

- Because I wanted that mom.

I wanted the mom
who made me afternoon snacks

instead of just telling
me to look for loose fries

in the McDonald's ball pit.

Why does Patricia get that mom?

If Donna Shellstrop
has truly changed,

then that means she was
always capable of change,

but I just wasn't
worth changing for.

- I know as your self-appointed
father figure,

I'm supposed to say
something comforting here,

but I'm... I'm kind of stumped.

- Okay, final tally...

43 votes for Diana Tremaine,

12 votes for Eileen Capshaw,

and one vote for Bofa Deeznutz.

- God, don't look
at me like that.

You're not my real dad.

- Congratulations,
Madam Secretary.

- It's so crazy, right?

I'm gonna need
to get a calculator

and maybe a globe.

I don't really
understand the job.

- Listen, um, I'm sorry

that I didn't think
this whole thing was real.

I just never thought
I'd see the day

when you made a commitment to...

anything.

I was wrong.

- Thank you, baby.
- That means a lot.

- Let me help you.
- No, no, no, not that one!

Not that one!
No, sorry, sorry.

This powder is only
for my delicates.

- You don't wash your bras.

- No. No.

- I knew it.

My mother is a con artist.

Got ya.

- So, before I'm tortured
in the afterlife,

I get to spend
the rest of this life

in a Hungarian prison
for destruction of art.

That's fun.

- Destruction
of extremely derivative art.

Kamilah's work has been
mediocre for years.

Mother and Father
are probably rolling over

in their cryogenic chambers.

- Really? You don't think they
would be proud of her

for having a whole museum wing
dedicated to her work?

- My parents' standards
were incredibly high,

and they were
impossible to please.

Plus, they always pitted

my sister and me
against each other.

The two of them were a unit,

and Kamilah and I...

- Girls, we have
a new challenge for you.

- Each of you has four hours
to complete a rendering

of your favorite moment
in French military history.

- The winning painting
shall be hung in our foyer

during our party honoring
Francois Mitterrand.

- The losing paining
shall provide the kindling

for the fire that rages
in our hearth

during that party.

Doesn't that sound wonderful?

- Yes, Mother, it does.

- Thank you
for this opportunity.

- Who will be
the winning artist,

and who will fail?

Let's find out.

- These paintings...

they're us.

- You're the boobs?

Sorry. Once Jason said it,
that's all I can see.

- Here we go.

What?

Tahani, what are you doing?
Stop it.

- No. I'm going to hug you
because I love you

and because you feel
just as alone as I do.

I'm sorry our parents
were such wankers.

And I understand that you
can't accept my apology

because that would quench
your creative thirst.

They forced us to compete,

and that competition has fueled
your art for decades.

It's so awful, and I'm so sorry.

- They were wankers,
weren't they?

- Ah! The absolute biggest
wankers on Earth.

- Let them go, please.

- Diana Tremaine,
you little devil.

New name, same game.

- Fine. Things have been going
good with me and Dave,

but sometimes I sneak a little
bit of cash out of his wallet,

and I hide it away, just
in case everything blows up

and I need to skip town.

Are you happy?

- Actually, no, I'm not happy,

but I think you are.

You're holding on
to this exit strategy,

telling yourself that
you can bail at any time,

but the truth is...

you love this suburban life.

- I don't love it so much.

I am not basic.
Ya basic.

- No, Mom.

Ya basic.

And that's okay.

Let me ask you something.

Why are you wearing yoga pants?

- Well, on Tuesday nights,
I do restorative yoga

with a bunch of moms
from Patty's school.

- And what do you do after yoga?

- We split avocado egg rolls
at the Cheesecake Factory,

but we also drink.

- What do you drink?
- Chardonnay...

with ice cubes.

- And after one glass,
I get sleepy,

so I usually switch to water
so I can drive home...

like a nerd!

- Hey, hey...

It's okay.

It's good.
You're happy here.

But you need to commit
to this...

which means getting rid
of that stash of escape money.

And I think you know
what you have to do with it.

- Send it to Gene Simmons?

- What? No.

Spend it on Patricia.

Set up a college fund,
buy her a crib...

or a car.

I truly don't know
anything about kids,

but this is your chance
to break the chain

of Shellstrop
mother-daughter crappiness.

You have a do-over.

Use it.

- Oh, baby.

It seems like you've turned
into a really good person,

and you clearly
didn't get that from me,

so props to whoever helped you.

- Is there more
cash in your bra?

- Always.
- It's why I don't wash them.

- I still can't believe that
police officer pulled you over

just to tell you that
you were driving perfectly.

- Why not?
- I was.

- There is an article
in the paper

about Kamilah's
latest art installation.

And look...

"A Fractured Inheritance"

by Kamilah Al-Jamil
and Tahani Al-Jamil.

- Gosh, that was
very big of her...

though she really should have
named the piece

"Buried Hatchet,"
don't you think?

Such a better title.

I'm going to call her
and rub it in.

- Maybe don't...
- for now.

- Yes. Smart.

Good luck, buddy.

- Oh, hey, I almost forgot.

I sketched you up
a little something...

Some ideas there
for your project.

Wow.

- Well, this is
more than a few ideas.

You solved the whole thing...
Columns and porticos.

Uh-oh.

Looks like you
forgot to include bathrooms.

- Oops.
- Ah, just a little oversight.

I certainly use the bathroom
like anybody else.

I love to sit on the... the thing

and just, you know,
shoot one out.

Eleanor, I'll be in the car.

- It was really nice
to meet you, Patricia.

Got a lot of people
who care about you here.

And good luck with the...

- SATs.
- I'm nine.

- Whatever, good luck in school.

You get it.

- The others are on their way
back from Budapest.

We'll be picking them
up in a few hours.

Oh, be happy.

Your mom found a better path
all on her own,

and you definitely
helped Patricia.

Double happy ending.

- I know.
- I'm just... I'm a little sad.

I'm glad my mom has changed,

but that doesn't fix
all the damage she did to me.

Let's face it...

She's the reason I could
never get close to anyone.

I never even told
a boyfriend I love him.

- Oh, crap.
- Um...

you remember how I told you
that you knew

everything important
about your life?

Well, I-I wasn't thinking
about your afterlife life.

In one of the reboots,
you and Chidi fell in love...

deeply, and you told him
that you loved him,

and he told you
that he loved you back.

- We did what, now?

- You want to listen
to a podcast maybe?