All language subtitles for The Guest Book S01E05 Story Five 1080p AMZN WEB-DL DDP5 1 H 264-NTb_track3_[eng]

Hey, bruh? That show I told you
about is on again tonight.

That stripper I told you
about who blackmails people?

Well, she recorded the old guy
who rents the cabins

while she gave him
a lap dance.

And I think
she's gonna make him

let her rent the cabins
to people and keep the cash.

And that doctor
who lives next door

is trying to save
his marriage,

so he invited his wife
up to the cabin with they son.

If you want, I think you can
catch up on the episodes online

at tbs.com.

Yeah, I'll try.

Don't really know
how to do that stuff.

[ Plastic crinkles ]
Bro, we work
at a computer store.

Hmm?

**

* Wherever we go

* That's fine by me

* We'll settle our bones

* Eventually

* Yeah, I need a break,
I need a minute *

* Just give me one day

* Let's get, get, get away

Hello, my name is
Dr. Laurie Gallif,

and today I will be presenting
the results of my recent study.

It all started
with my trip to Germany,

where I was lucky enough
to visit a facility

for Alzheimer's patients

that is experimenting
in a new way to treat dementia.

Rather than forcing patients to
accept their current situation,

they encourage them
to revisit the past.

The patients live
in housing units

resembling the 1950s, 1960s,
whatever time period

the patients
are most comfortable in.

And in doing so, these patients
are living better lives.

And in some cases,
they are even regaining

some sense
of who they once were.

With this in mind,
my goal was to create

my own small-scale version,

hoping that, with success,

our facility would fund
similar programs in the future.

So, without further ado,

I would like to introduce you
to Mr. Edgar Barns.

All: Aw!

Laurie: Suffering
from advanced Alzheimer's

and having no family
to speak of,

Mr. Barns was a mystery.

I emptied his storage unit,
hoping to find clues

on how to create
the ideal environment for him.

As I thumbed through
his photo album,

I found the perfect blueprint
to recreate

the world he used to live in.

[ Baseball thuds ]

I searched online and found
a cabin in the mountains

that was a pretty good match
for Edgar's old house.

Then I borrowed
a friend's classic pickup truck

that looked close enough
to the one Edgar used to have.

At least, it did after
I took off the Truck Nutz.

I even bought
a few vintage outfits

to make everything
feel authentic.

And just to be safe,

I hired a nurse
to come along with us.

I look like
Steve Harvey's grandfather.

Oh, no. Edgar, I think
Darnell was going to drive.

I'm just warming the car up

while Beatrice
gets ready for church.

Beatrice must be his wife.

Oh, my God.
This is working.

**

[ Starts truck ]

**

So, Edgar, this sure is
a nice truck you have.

Did you drive to work
in this truck?

Do you remember
what you did for a living?

How about the city
you grew up in? Any idea?

[ Brakes screech ]
Oh.

This is gonna be
a long weekend.

[ Turns off engine ]

**

That Wilfrid is
one kooky old bastard.

I took him in the storage room
for a private dance,

and halfway through that trick
I do with my left nipple,

he asked if he could buy
a bunch of our light bulbs.

Anybody answer our ad
to rent his cabins?

Nothing yet. But I am glad
I stole his laptop.

I found a website where
you can talk to women

who want to cheat
on their husbands.

She kinda looks like that girl
that's on "Who's the Boss?"

I wonder if it is her.

I'll see if the Internet
knows if she's married.

Just don't jizz up the keyboard.
Okay, we need that computer.

The sooner someone
contacts us

about rentin' one
of the old dude's cabins,

the sooner my pale ass
can be passed out

on a beach somewhere
with beads in my hair.

She's married.

Holy shit.

I'm gonna bang...

Ali-sa-sa Me-lay-no.

Hit that shit, brother.

**

Emma:
I hope I never lose my mind.

I think Wilfrid's starting
to lose his, though.

Oh, I'm fine.

Then why did it take you
two hours this morning

to buy light bulbs?

I like to stop
and smell the roses.

[ Cellphone rings ]

Hey, Mom. Oh, nothing much.

Just watching a black guy
in a zoot suit

force an elderly white man
into an old pickup.

Couple months ago,
I'd already have my taser out,

but...well,
you watch the news.

Hey!

Hi!

Mom, the cute doctor
I told you about

is walking right towards me
with a shitload of flowers.

This could be one of those
grand romantic gestures

you only see in the movies.

Oh, my God. What if
the black guy in the zoot suit

is part of a flash mob?

I'm gonna keep you on speaker.
[ Whispers ] Be quiet.

Hey. I was hoping
I'd run into you.

Really? Well, I'm always
only three numbers away.

9-1-1. [ Chuckles ]

Not really, though.
That's just for emergencies.

But I can give you
my cell number if you want it.

No, that's okay. I just --
I-I wanted to thank you.

Uh, you were right.
Texting my wife to ask her

to stay for the weekend
instead of calling her?

It totally worked.

Hopefully, these flowers
will seal the deal.

Mom: Ah, that's a kick
in the cooter.

[ Cellphone beeps ]

[ Door creaks ]

It's a good thing
I chased down this baseball.

It's signed
by Jackie Robinson.

Home.

Yes! Yes, Edgar.
You're home.

[ Strained voice ] Okay.

Hey, thanks again
for the ride.

I would have taken my car
if I'd have known

I was going to get
so many flowers.

Happy to help.
Uh-huh.

Hey, if --
if things don't go well

and you need to talk,
feel free to call.

Okay.
I was joking about 9-1-1!

You can call it!
They'll find me!

[ Toilet flushing ]

Beatrice?

I think he thinks
you're his wife.

Uh, yes, Edgar?
Can I help you with something?

What's Willie doing here?

Who?

Willie the handyman.

Oh! He is here to fix the...

Stove.

I-I was fixing the stove.

That's very nice, Willie.

We'll be sure
and call you again

next time something else
gets broken.

I'll show you out.

[ Door closes ]

I can't believe it. This
couldn't be going any better.

Yeah, for you. You get to stay
in the house, Beatrice.

Where the hell is Willie
the handyman supposed to sleep?

How about in the truck?

What? It's in the garage.
That's kinda like a bedroom.

I'll pay you double.

All right, fine.
As long as we're doing this,

I hope you have to sleep
in the same bed with him.

[ Scoffs ]

I'm not going to sleep
in the same bed with him.

Laurie: Of course, I was going

to sleep in the same bed
with him.

If I was going to do this,
I had to do it right.

Good night, Edgar.

**

Oh! Oh!
Stick it in.

You do it better.
I get lost down there.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

I'm on my period.

Ugh!
If you've got the rag on,

you shouldn't be parading
around the house

with your knees showing,
you cock-tease.

And if I've told you once,
I've told you a thousand times,

I don't want Willie
in this house.

There's plenty of white men
you could've hired

to fix that stove.

I don't need some jigaboo

traipsing his black ass
through my house.

Good night.

Good night.

Some people might
get discouraged

when the sweet old man
they're trying to help

turns out to be
a horrible person.

But scientifically speaking,

the fact that he remembered
he was a racist asshole

was a major victory.

Ahh. Jesus, Bea.

Could these strips of bacon
be thinner?

I'm over here squinting
like a Chinaman

just to see 'em
on the plate.

Oh, I'm sorry.
I'll make some more.

Oh, Edgar? If someone wanted
to mail us a letter,

where should they send it?

4236 Elmwood Lane,
Goose Creek, South Carolina.

[ Inhales and exhales
deeply ]

[ Clicks button ]
Subject remembers his address.

[ Knock on door ]

[ Door creaks ]
Good morning.

I'm here to fix the shower.

Look,
things are going great,

and I don't want anything
to mess that up,

so maybe you shouldn't
come in the house.

What am I supposed to do?
I don't know.

Go explore the town.
Edgar: Beatrice!

Oh. Coming!

Wh--

[ Hangers scrape ]

Looking for something,
honey?

My white suit.
I need it for Sunday.

Where is it?
I always keep it right here.

Oh. You know what?

I washed it,
and it accidentally shrank.

Goddamn it!

If you can't hold a baby
longer than six weeks,

at least be good at laundry!

I guess I gotta make
another one.

You know how to sew
your own suit?

Of course I do.

I'm a tailor. It's my job.

Good God.

First you forget our address,
then you forget my profession.

Women. [ Scoffs ]
I still can't believe

we gave you ditzy split-tails
the right to vote.

**

[ Click ]
He remembered he's a tailor.

**

Excuse me, sir?
Hey, you know how to...

upload a picture on
the Internet?

Yeah, I think so.

Oh, sweet.

[ Exhales deeply ]

Is that your dick?
Yeah.

Why is there a Matchbox car
next to your dick?

For scale.

Here you go.

Mmm.

That's a good-looking dick
right there. Mmm.

[ Sewing machine whirring ]

[ Click ]
The subject
is progressing nicely.

Not only does
he remember his name,

address, spouse,
and profession,

but he's also
exhibiting some...

personality traits

that were dormant
due to the dementia.

Obviously, the more successful
this experiment is,

the more funding
our facility can earmark

toward future weekends away
with other patients.

These types of successes are...

[ Recorder clatters ]

Edgar? Edgar?!

Where are you going?!

Sunday meeting.
Lots of stuff to plan.

Uh...Hi.

I'm a doctor, too.
Advanced Alzheimer's.

We're trying a new therapy.

Well, good luck with that.

Edgar! Edgar!
They canceled the meeting.

They called while you were
sewing.

Really? Who called?

-Clem?
-Clem Wilkerson?

The treasurer
called our house?

Why'd they cancel
the meeting?

Um...he said something
about the...

cheap Jew...that owns
the meeting hall

trying to save a buck
and double-booking it

to a bunch
of dirty Catholics,

and they don't think...
the lazy Mexicans

are going to be able
to clean it up in time.

Makes sense.

**

You gotta be shitting me!

[ Thud ]

[ Front door opens, closes ]
You want to tell me

why the Grand Wizard
of the KKK

just waltzed his ass
into this house?

That was Edgar. And I'm sure
he wasn't the Grand Wizard.

He was very impressed
when the treasurer called,

for Chrissake.

Look, as it turns out,

Edgar used to be
a little racist.

Edgar: Beatrice,
If you're through bleeding

all over my clean floor,

could you drag
your dumb ass in here?

And also
a little misogynistic.

Excuse me for a second.

Yes?
I need you to run
to the store for me,

pick up some supplies.

**

Sure thing.

What now?
He wanted me
to go to the store

to buy him
a few things he needs...

to burn down a church.

This is a story
about a porn star.

Oh, no, you gotta
turn the page.

Obviously, things had taken
a turn for the worse.

But if you just look
at the experiment

and not the awful person
we were dealing with,

things couldn't have been
going better.

This dude's got detailed plans
to burn down

some Methodist church
on Carter Lane.

We're not gonna
let him do it!

Look, we just have to get
through this weekend

with enough evidence to prove
that the therapy is working.

Think of all the people
we can help.

-Black people.
-Don't do that.

Wait a second.

What if he's already
burned down this church?

I mean, you said he's been
remembering stuff, right?

-I seriously doubt --
-I'm-a Google this shit.

**

Hey.

I don't normally do that,

so you'd better catch
that rat.

Frank: I don't know
what you're talking about.

That's bullshit!
That's my computer.

You stole my computer.

Look, I got my Rick Santorum
sticker on it.

What the hell
is going on here?

This idiot
stole my computer

and went on my online dating
membership

to try to sleep
with a married woman.

And he sent his address

with a picture of his dick
next to a little car.

You used his account?

Yeah. Memberships cost
a couple hundred bucks,

and his information
was already on there.

Can I at least get the info
of that married woman?

The woman was me.
How do you think I found you?

I got an e-mail saying
someone was using my account,

so I created a fake woman
to set a trap for you.

You're such a idiot.

[ Mousetrap snaps ]
[ Grunts ]

I used Alyssa Milano's picture,
for Chrissake.

That wasn't really her?

Oh, that's a bummer.

If I didn't have a pregnant wife

that can't find out
I'm having affairs online,

I'd call the cops.
Consider yourself lucky.

**

Well, all things considered,
that didn't turn out half bad.

[ Smack ]

[ Thud ]

[ Gags ]

That computer was the only way

to place ads
to rent those cabins!

Now I have to use
the one at the library,

and I hate the library!

Sorry. Uhh!
[ Telephone rings ]

[ Vivian grunts, Frank chokes ]

Chubbys.
We won't tell if you don't.

Uh-huh.

Yeah.

Okay. Uh...yeah.

Let me ask her.

Hey, someone's on the phone
about renting a cabin.

**

I'll be right there.

[ Slap ]
[ Grunts, panting ]

Go tell the old guy
we need the keys.

**

[ Pleasantly ] Hello?

Got it.

"June 15, 1958.

"The Methodist Church
on Carter Lane

"in Goose Creek,
South Carolina,

"was burned in what was
suspected to be an act of arson.

"Witnesses claim
to have seen

"a pickup truck
leaving the scene,

"but according to
District Attorney
Clem Wilkerson,

no suspects
were ever questioned."

Oh, my God.

"The fire occurred
in the middle of the night

"while the church was empty.

"However,
the church often housed

"down-on-their-luck
parishioners

"in an adjunct structure,
which also caught fire,

resulting in one casualty,
Mister..."

"Willie Turner,
local handyman"?

He killed me!

That son-of-a-bitch killed me,
and he's trying to do it again.

He wants to make
a twice-baked Negro.

I'm calling the cops.

Fine, but let's wait
until we get back.

Please let me finish
the experiment.

Beatrice, can I talk to you
in the bedroom for a second?

Willie. Looking good.

Lose some weight?

Yeah, I lost weight.
All of it.

I'm a goddamn ghost
thanks to you,

you backward-ass cracker.

Listen, Edgar,
I know you want --

[ Smack ]
Oh!

That's for not listening.

Now go put something pretty on
so we can get to church

before they give away all
the good seats to the cripples.

And how many times
do I have to tell you

to throw this out?

It became worthless
after my father

let that coon who ruined
baseball write his name on it.

[ Baseball thuds ]

[ Exhales ]

[ Click ]
[ Whispers ]
Subject is a racist,

murdering, spousal-abusing,
reprehensible,

irredeemable son-of-a-bitch.

He also remembered his father.
[ Click ]

-We're calling the police.
-What about your experiment?

He just hit me!

Oh!

Black handyman gets murdered,
but we can let it slide.

White woman gets slapped,

and we gotta send up
the Bat-Signal.

This is that bullshit!

[ Keys jangle ]

[ Birds chirping ]

[ Engine revs, idling ]

Beatrice, hurry up!
We're gonna be late for church.

[ Engine revs ]

[ Slow instrumental
of "Dixie" playing ]

[ Door creaks ]

**

[ Indistinct radio chatter ]

[ Van door closes ]

[ Van departs ]

So while...some results
from the experiment

could be considered
a failure --

"Could be"? Your patient
accidentally killed himself

while you and your nurse
were distracted.

Yes. That was unfortunate.

And I wish we could have
stopped that from happening,

even though I think
we can all agree

the world is probably
a better place without Edgar.

But more importantly,

we shouldn't let
that one mishap overshadow

that there were some
real successes along the way

that warrant funding
for future programs

that could really benefit
our patients.

[ Murmuring ]

Well, I guess that makes sense.

But to be safe, next time
let's try with a black person.

**

* I've got a long list
of real good reasons *

* For all the things I've done

* I've got a picture
in the back of my mind *

* Of what I've lost
and what I've won *

* I've survived
every situation *

* Knowing when to freeze
and when to run *

* And regret is just a memory
written on my brow *

* And there's nothing
I can do about it now *

* I've got a wild
and a restless spirit *

* I held my price
through every deal *

* I've seen the fire
of a woman's scorn *

* Turn her...
How can I...

What are you doing here?

I hate to do this
to you, buddy,

but I'm-a need the keys to
some place named Froggy Cottage.

Otherwise, your wife's gonna
have a front row seat

to a little movie
starring you and my stepmother

in the V.I.P. room.

Mother--