All language subtitles for American.Horror.Story.S07E07.720p.iT.WEB-DL.DD5.1.H.264-ViSUM_[English] (SUBRIP)

(man grunting rhythmically)

(rhythmic grunting continues)

Oh, yeah. That's it.

Right there.

(man continues grunting)

(loud, final grunts)

(man exhales)

(panting)

It's ten.

That's all I got.

Fuck you, you little dick
piece of dogshit.

¶ ¶

Hey, how many bullets
can you get for five dollars?

What for?

Andy Warhol.

(gunshot)

WOMAN: I thought we had what it
takes to make a marriage work.

MAN: We must make
our marriage work, dear.

WOMAN (exhales):
I don't get it.

Do I not know my husband
is a homosexual?

Uh...

No.

You divorce
your husband, Taylor,

'cause he wants a surfer, too,

and, uh, he's
gonna seduce Tom...

...get Tom to urinate

all over him,

and then Taylor's gonna say...

"I'm a real surfer now."

Uh, let's, uh, take a break.

It's been long enough--
I want my script back.

I'm sorry, Valerie,
I can't find it.

You lost it?

That was my only copy.

You promised you were gonna make
Up Your Ass into a movie.

-Did you even read it?
-It was so obscene,

I thought you were an undercover
cop trying to entrap me.

You lost it on purpose.

'Cause you can't stand
to have a woman succeed.

(clicks tongue)
Oh, Valerie...

you know women
can't be serious artists.

Why not?

(sighs):
Well, uh...

women can be beautiful.

Be a model.

Or an actress.

I could strangle you right now.

I want to wipe
that smug expression

-off your pale,
-(pounds table)

patriarchal face!

PAUL: Okay, that is enough.
We've indulged your tantrums

-No! No! No! Don't touch me!
-long enough, Valerie.

-You need to get out! Okay.
-Don't touch me!

(woman giggling nearby)

Isn't she great?

(gunshot)

(elevator stops)

(inhales, exhales deeply)

I told you already, okay?
Andy's not coming in.

You can come back next week.

¶ ¶

(imitates gunshot)

(door creaking)

Hi, Valerie.

(phone rings)

Factory.

Hi, Viva.

Uh, yes, he is actually here.

I can get him for you.

Andy, Viva would like
to talk to you, please.

WARHOL:
Oh, no.

Yeah?

Valerie.

You put on makeup today.

You look pretty.

PAUL: Valerie, uh, you
can see that we're really busy.

-You need to leave.
-WARHOL: Oh.

(Warhol speaking indistinctly)

-(woman screams)
-Oh!

-(gunshot)
-(Warhol gasps)

(thump echoes)

You had too much control
over my life.

Down with the patriarchy.

Suck my dick, Warhol!

(panting)

-(gunshot)
-(grunts)

(Warhol grunts quietly)

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

¶ ¶

Breaking news out of
Brookfield Heights, Michigan.

Five people are dead
and one is wounded...

...in an apparent
mass shooting at a crowded mall.

Residents were there
for a campaign rally

for city council candidate
Kai Anderson.

NEWSMAN: ...when area woman
Meadow Wilton opened fire

on the crowd.

-We are impenetrable.
We are... -(crowd chanting)

-(gunshot)
-(screaming, shouting)

NEWSWOMAN: Ms. Wilton shot
the young politician

and then killed
three more bystanders

before turning the gun
on herself.

NEWSMAN: A second individual,
Allyson Mayfair-Richards,

is in police custody tonight.

So far, she refuses to speak.

"My wife's actions
were politically motivated.

"She wrote at length
in her diary

"about her anger
over Hillary Clinton's loss,

"vowing payback
against Trump supporters.

She specifically mentioned
Kai Anderson as her target."

NEWSMAN:
The eyes of the nation

are fixed on Brookfield Heights,

as Kai Anderson,
the brave young man

who survived
a would-be assassin's bullet,

awaits the results
of his run for city council.

I just found out
I'm polling 20 points ahead.

We won!

Yes!

Yes! We did it!

Thank you so much.

-Oh.
-(phone chimes)

Holy shit.

I just got a retweet
from Eric Trump.

Can I help you?

I don't go
for this theatrical bullshit.

You're bullshit.

A bullshit puppet.

I can see your strings.

You've lost your way.

All women have.

Used to be easy to know
a man-cult when you saw one.

Before the lies

that blinded us
to the inequalities.

The male wants desperately

to be led by females.

He wants Mama to be in charge.

But we keep giving away

the natural order of things.

I know what it means

to assassinate a man.

That pantomime
the other night...

wasn't that, let me tell you.

What are you?

Homeless?

Schizo?

You want a couple of bucks
to get high?

Pretty convenient for her
to miss her mark like that.

She could have walked
right up to him

and bam, right in the cock!

Why didn't she?

Reunion Hotel, room 12.

(cigar sizzles)

Give me a ring-a-ding

when you're ready
to hear the truth, sister.

¶ ¶

(doorknob rattles)

(door unlocks)

-Who the hell are you?
-Who the hell are you?

I'm Beverly motherfuckin' Hope,

and you're gonna want to get
the hell out of my way.

I don't have time
for this bullshit. Kai!

KAI:
Gentlemen.

This is not how we treat

a distinguished member
of the press.

And our dear friend.

Come inside.

What's going on?

Who are all these people?

Volunteers.

From all over.

Milwaukee, Cincinnati,
Birmingham.

-(grunts loudly) -Looking
to be a part of history.

It's all happening.

People are hearing us
and answering the call.

BEVERLY:
We're losing momentum.

Right now, people
are terrified, off-balance.

We need to build on that,
take it to the next level.

We need...

...fresh blood.

What the public is craving now

is stability.

I promised them law and order,
and I'm gonna give it to them.

That's not what we agreed to.

What happened
to setting the world on fire?

(men chuckling)

Beverly...

you worry too much.

We've succeeded.

The nation knows my name,
and it's all thanks to you.

You've done a phenomenal job.

Now it's time to sit back
for a moment.

Take a break.

Kai...

we agreed to equal power.

That's not what this feels like.

You need to trust me.

Trust is the only thing
that forges real partnership.

Did Meadow put her trust in you?

Meadow was a troubled soul.

I've got city council business
to attend to.

Keep up the good work.

-It's time to go, Beverly.
-Don't touch me!

(men chuckling)

(door unlocks)

I've been expecting you.

Come in.

-WINTER: So no one knows where
she is? -The cops took her away.

She could be with the FBI or
the state police. I don't know.

God knows I wasn't gonna be
Ally's one phone call.

I called Samuels
to check into it,

-but he won't pick up.
-You're wasting your time.

He's part of that sausage fest
in my brother's basement.

No girls allowed.

-So, you think Ally's going
to talk? -(knocking)

(exhales)
About what?

She doesn't know anything.

-(knocking)
-That she can prove.

-You guys are closed tonight,
right? -Yeah, it's Monday.

What's so important that
you wanted us to meet here...

-Who's this?
-Her name is Bebe Babbitt.

She found me,
and she wants to help us.

You ladies have
really stepped in it.

Shouldn't she be talking to Kai?

No. That's the whole point.

We thought this whole thing
would get us some damn respect.

He promised us
a seat at the table,

but now that he has
this bullshit seat

and national fame,
he's doing what men always do:

-push the women aside.
-BEBE: Silly girls

are all stupid and doomed.

History may change,

but herstory
always repeats itself.

It's true.

They con women
into electing them,

then they defund
Planned Parenthood

and force us to get
transvaginal ultrasounds

before we can get an abortion.

Tell them what you told me.

Tell them about Valerie.

Valerie was the love of my life.

-¶ ¶
-She was an artist,

an intellectual, a writer...

a visionary.

Her name was Valerie Solanas.

The one who shot Andy Warhol?

I learned about her in my
women's studies class at Vassar.

She was one crazy bitch.

The world was crazy-- she was
the only one who was sane.

The bullets
she put in Andy Warhol

were the first shots
of a revolution.

(gunshot)

By the time Valerie was 15,
she had given birth twice,

inseminated by her father,
or her stepfather,

it could have been either.

I first met her in her room
at the Chelsea Hotel

in late '67.

She was 30 by then,
and had just written

her masterwork,
the SCUM Manifesto,

and would give stage readings.

It cost a dollar for women
to come listen, $2.50 for men.

"The male is
completely egocentric,

"trapped inside of himself,

"incapable of empathizing
with others,

of love or friendship,
affection or tenderness."

BEBE: The SCUM Manifesto
was the first time

someone had clearly laid out
the radical thesis

that men were
the real problem in society.

Has a woman ever started a war?

-OTHERS: No. -Are the polluting,
Earth-murdering CEOs

of Standard Oil
or Dow Chemical women?

-OTHERS: No.
-Do women wait

in dark hallways at night
to rape men

as they come home from work?

-Heck, no! -Hell, no. -Do women
molest their daughters?!

-No! -No!
-Do women pervert art

into commerce
like some men we all know?

-No.
-BEBE: She collected

a devoted group of followers
from those readings--

the street girls,
hookers, throwaways.

There was Hedda--
abandoned in an orphanage

until she aged out
and ended up on the streets.

Loxi-- shittiest hooker
in all of Manhattan.

Martha--
the only black bisexual pimp

I've ever heard of to this da.

And butchy May,
who was on the run

for killing a guy
down south somewhere.

VALERIE:
Talk doesn't work with men.

The only way to win
is to anti-assimilate

and play their game.

To do to them
what they have been doing to us

since the dawn of time.

This planet
will not move forward

until we get our hands bloody

-and murder every fuckin' man
on it! -I've got a few

I'd like to shove
to the front of the damn line.

That's the spirit, Martha.

BEBE: Even though our mission
was to destroy all the men,

there were some
who were allowed--

men like Bruce and Maurice.

They were creeps.
Masochists. And homosexuals.

SCUM stands for
the Society for Cutting Up Men.

Our goal is to kill all men

who are not a part
of the men's auxiliary of SCUM.

These include
little limp-wristers

like Bruce and Maurice here,
who by shining,

flaming example,
encourage other men

to de-man themselves.

Any man present
must give a speech

beginning with the words...

I am a turd,

a lowly abject turd.

And why should we
let you stay, turd?

Because men have hurt me, too.

Rejected me.

Raped me in the showers
in the barracks.

Fine, gender-traitor,

you can stay... for now.

Listen to this.

"The sick, irrational men--

"those who attempt
to defend themselves

"against their own
disgustingness

"when they see SCUM
barreling down on them--

"will cling in terror
to Big Mama

"with her big, bouncy boobies,

but boobies
won't protect them from SCUM."

(cheering, whooping)

BEBE:
We relocated to San Francisco,

where the culture
was really happening.

Once we were settled,

the ultimate plan appeared,

fully formed
in Valerie's beautiful mind.

(music playing quietly)

I don't want you to go.

Yeah, but wars need martyrs.

And they need to be loud.

We need to make them face
their greatest fear--

their pussy envy--
and we need to do it

in the only language
that these half-apes understand,

and that's violence.

Remember what I told you?
About where to start?

Couple-busting?

VALERIE:
It's not just men

who are the problem.

It's women who think that by
spreading their legs for a man,

they gain value.

They're lost.

So we have to kill them both

to send a message.

(laughter, cheering)

(cheering fades)

What do you want us to do
when you're gone?

Get the fabric to make
the scum-colored cloaks

like I told you,
and get the gun.

Then wait for my signal
and go to work.

What's the signal?

You'll know.

(gunshot)

BEBE: Shooting Andy was
the signal for us to act.

We staked out a lovers lane,

picked the first couple
we came upon.

-Wrong place, wrong time.
-(whooshing)

Did you see that?

Oh, there's...
raccoons out here, ducks.

¶ ¶

-(gunshot)
-(gasps)

DAVID:
What the hell?

You could've killed us.

(thump echoes)

(screaming)

(gunshot)

SCUM is impatient.

SCUM will not be consoled
by the thought

that future generations
will thrive.

HEDDA:
SCUM wants to grab

some thrilling living
for itself.

¶ ¶

WINTER:
Hold on.

David Faraday
and Betty Lou Jensen?

Those were the first victims
of the Zodiac Killer.

I've seen that Fincher movie,
like, 50 times.

It's my Baby Einstein.

Y-You didn't kill them;
the Zodiac did.

Haven't you
been listening, ingrate?

That was Valerie's plan
all along.

We were the Zodiac.

-IVY: The Zodiac Killer?
-They were SCUM killings.

All murders ascribed
to the so-called Zodiac

were really the work by the
Society for Cutting Up Men.

Except no men were cut up,
were they?

Stabbed, yes; shot.

And just as many
of them were women.

What did I say? The plan was
to start with couple-busting.

To send the message to women

that coupling with men
would only get them killed.

It's all in Valerie's manifesto.

(gunshot)

You look beautiful today.

Oh, thank you.
(giggles quietly)

There's someone else here.

BEBE: Everything we did
was meticulous.

Valerie planned everything
down to the last detail.

Pass it to the women, turd.

Hold it up.

Look through the sight.

What do you see?

LOXI:
Crosshairs.

VALERIE:
And in those crosshairs... men.

'Cause we're gonna use their own
invention to obliterate them.

And once we begin to rid
the Earth of this pestilence,

our fellow women will realize
they have nothing to fear

from the evolutionarily
inferior male.

And they are going to rise up
and join us.

-But a few of these bitches
-(screaming)

-are gonna have to die first.
-(screaming)

BEBE:
Her assassination

of that phony Warhol
was her signal

for us to begin her work.

It was the first shot fired
in a revolution.

Everything else she directed
from her cell

at the Matteawan Hospital for
the Criminally Insane

in New York.

And it was beautiful.

Everything according to plan.

But then someone started sending
letters to the newspapers.

VALERIE:
Who the fuck is the Zodiac?!

I'm speechless.
I don't understand.

Somebody,

(over phone):
some piece of shit man

is taking credit for our work
by sending explicit details

of the murders to the paper,
then making people solve

this crazy crossword thing?

-It-It's a cipher.
-It's bullshit.

Some illiterate with a dick
that's using our hard work

go gain attention for himself!

YOUNG BEBE:
Well, it's good, isn't it?

They won't be looking for us.

It's ours.
We thought of it.

We're doing it.

People should fear us,
not some anonymous man

who has trouble spelling
simple words.

Then let's take credit.

-Let people know these
are SCUM murders. -No.

We have an agenda.
We do not release who we are

until a thousand people
are dead, okay?

We will reverse
the power structure

and regain our rightful place
at the apex.

Women will cut off the
dead weight of the patriarch

and divorce will sweep
the country.

Valerie, you're not
making sense.

Makes sense to me,
and I'm the boss.

It's my manifesto.
Not now.

YOUNG BEBE:
Maybe this is...

some elaborate trap
set by the police.

I know exactly what it is.

The goddamn leeches, men!

They want everything.

Their egos won't let them
accept anything less.

They need to be the agents
of creation and chaos,

and they will not stop
until the whole world

is in their grubby little hands!

(phone slams)

BEBE: While Valerie was
in the nuthouse,

there was one other murder
attributed to Zodiac.

The taxi driver Paul Stine.

It wasn't us,
it was the imposter.

The public had accepted
that a man was the killer.

His identity remained a mystery.

Once Valerie was out,

she made her way back to us
in San Francisco.

(gunshot)

VALERIE:
Some people

go to jail and find God.

(laughs): One person
in my block even mastered...

the flute.

But when I was in the joint,

I had an altogether
more personal epiphany,

one that I think will surprise
many of the people here tonight.

And that is that I,
Valerie Solanas,

author of the SCUM Manifesto,

was dead fuckin' wrong
about men.

I made a mistake.

I opened the door just enough

so that a few swingin' dicks
could come in.

I thought for sure
there had to be one or two

inoffensive men willing
to help with our cause,

but you know what I learned
when I was in the clink?

There are no exceptions.

Why don't you stand up, Maurice.

Come on, chop-chop.

Do it, turd!

Is there anything you've been
wanting to get off your chest?

Uh, I'm a turd.

Uh, an abject lowlife
piece of garbage

-who's not fit to...
-No.

I mean, yes, you are a turd.
But I'm looking for a...

new confession.

Wh-What's that? A new play?

-Your next manifesto?
-Oh, come on,

I'm supposed to believe that
you never seen this, asshole?

That it wasn't wedged under your
bed as recently as last night

with a healthy collection
of beefcake magazines?

Same code, same handwriting

that was splashed across
the Chronicle, the Examiner,

-the Vallejo Times! -We know
you wrote the letters, turd.

It's not mine.
I'm-I'm not the Zodiac.

Fess up, Maurice.

Just like a man to take credit
for the work

of a woman.

Valerie, please...

Valerie, please, I-I'm nothing.

-I'm a turd. I'm just a turd.
-You did this

to yourself, Maurice--
you've got no one else

to blame but yourself.

-(Valerie yells)
-(screams, cries)

VALERIE:
Nice watch, Bruce!

Your willingness to let
your fellow man, Maurice,

meet my blade while you
just stood by silently

says more about your sex
than a million manifestos.

I've seen your
chicken scratch, Bruce.

No cipher can hide
piss-poor penmanship!

(crying):
I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.
I didn't want to.

I'm weak. I'm a weakling.

But I'm still a man!

(sobbing loudly)

-(sobbing continues)
-VALERIE: Stand up!

-(chair clatters)
-Women of SCUM...

-BRUCE: No. -...men have
always helped themselves

to our glory.

-But tonight...
-(crying): No.

...there are consequences.

Tonight, we carve out
our future.

-Tonight, we will say
to the patriarchy... -No!

-...to go fuck yourself.
-(screaming, crying)

-Get him!
-(women screaming, grunting)

(women's screams echo)

(low, indistinct
police radio chatter)

Poor fella.

His dick and balls are missing.

Uh...

no, they're not.

OFFICER:
Betty Lou Jensen,

David Faraday, Darlene Ferrin,

Cecelia Shepard.

These are the Zodiac killings.

SCUM killings, actually.
But yes.

You're telling me
you are the Zodiac Killer?

That's correct.

You got any proof?

No. I was not present
for the actual murders.

Well, where were you?

I was masterminding
the whole thing

from the Matteawan Institute
for the Criminally Insane.

Uh-huh. I'm gonna ask you
to leave now, miss.

-(chair clatters)
-You are a fool to underestimate

the rage of a woman!

I've been married 20 years--

that's the last thing
I underestimate.

I'm not your wife.
You can't just ignore me.

Your kind will be obliterated,
killed off like dogs,

and SCUM will rule the Earth.

And you'll see.
You'll all see.

No! Get your hands off me!

-No! No! -BEBE: It was like
she had pulled off

the heist of the century,
and no one cared.

-I am the Zodiac...!
-No one believed her.

It just made her snap!

We have to think bigger.

'Cause the man in the moon,

(laughs):
oh, he's a woman, my friends.

And when we're done,
no one will be able to deny

that SCUM was the dawn
of the revolution.

So, guess what?

I've made a hit list.

Some real disgusting
motherfuckers.

Like this asshole, Hugh Hefner,

who's clearly threatened
by our feminine power,

so he subjugates
and attacks our self-worth

and our evolutionarily superior
female bodies!

Billy Graham-- useless
fuckin' oppressor of women.

Bobby Riggs,

Steve McQueen.

Steve McQueen--
he's the worst of all.

He took Ali MacGraw from us,
squandered her God-given talent,

and now she's a housewife
in fuckin' Malibu.

BEBE:
Everything fell apart.

Our crew scattered.

Our momentum lost.

The schizophrenia
had taken hold.

She wasn't making any sense.

I couldn't get through to her.

It broke my heart
to see her like that.

I couldn't be part of it
anymore.

Valerie never stopped.

Her mind just kept going.

Oh, she was convinced

the patriarchy
was out to crush her,

and she set out to create
a definitive record

of every offense
for all the world to see.

WARHOL:
Oh, Valerie.

You've really let yourself go.

You've gained so much weight.

What the hell
are you doing here?

You fucked with the keys
on my typewriter, didn't you?

That's just like you, Daddy,

always trying to impede
the progress of the female mind.

I'm here to set you free.

How can I be angry with you
for operating

within your feminine means?

You just didn't know
any better, so...

I forgive you.

(yells)
I've had men trying

to shut me up
since I was a little girl.

What is it about little girls
that scares men so much?

Why won't they let us
be artists or scientists?

Why is it only men
who can create "great art,"

as you call it?

The game is rigged, you know.

And the people making
the decisions, the critics,

they're all men.

You men, so terrified
of what we might do,

you keep us stupid,

you keep us complacent.

You hold all the power.

(crying): Even now,
no one sees me as a writer,

no one see me
for my own thoughts.

When they hear the name
Valerie Solanas,

they think "Andy Warhol."

You've taken my art.

You've taken my life.

You've taken
my motherfucking legacy.

Who are you kidding?

Shooting me will be the only
thing you'll be remembered for.

I am your legacy.

(chuckles)

(yells)

(car horn honks in distance)

She had been beaten down
one too many times.

She died alone...

used up...

spit out by the world.

Like Meadow.

Like you all will be...

if you let your minds
be twisted up

by the machinations
and petty squabbles of men.

We're just cannon fodder.

Expendable.

You must reclaim the power...

before the maggots
take you whole.

Before it's too late.

We have to strike back.

And this time...

we won't miss.

¶ ¶

Do you think
they'd be proud of me?

What I've accomplished?

Yeah. Why are you asking?

There's just
so much pressure on me now.

Am I worthy...

of the responsibility that's
been hoisted upon my shoulders?

You can be screwed up,

and I don't agree
with everything you do,

but you're my brother...

and I love you.

(chuckles softly)

The crown is heavy, Winter.

I'm making hard choices...

every day.

Even harder ones going forward.

This thing we're
putting together, it's real,

and it's gonna change the world.

But I can't do it alone.

Followers are followers.

I tell them what they want
to hear, and they will obey me.

You and me...

are family, though.

That matters.

I need to know
I can count on you, Winter.

Can I count on you?

Of course.
What the hell, Kai?

(softly):
Thanks.

Hey, Winter?

What's this?

I found it in your room when
I was looking for your Adderall.

It's just one of
my old college books.

The ramblings
of some crazy bitch.

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

(exhales)

Don't say that.

I was reading this, and it is...

fascinating.

Inspiring.

Really?

I've gotten this far
on personality.

Charisma got me in the door,

but to take it
to the next level,

I need a philosophy,
a mission statement,

something they can put
in the history books--

preferably...

(chuckles):
with a catchy title.

So... you're gonna write a book?

No, I don't have time
for that shit.

I'm just gonna release something
on social media.

But...

I was testing out titles
like... SCUM.

What do you think of FIT?

Fear Is Truth.

What about...

MLWB?

Men Lead...

Women Bleed.

I think that one
might piss off the wrong people.

Yeah, I didn't like
that one, either.

That one was Harrison's idea.

I think he's got
a serious hang-up about women.

(Kai takes deep breath)

Anyway...

(clears throat softly)

Thanks for talking, sis.

Can I have some more alone time
with Mom and Dad?

No problem.
I've got some shit

I got to take care of anyway.

Say hi to the girls for me.

HARRISON: I spoke to Kai
earlier-- he has no idea.

IVY: That's good.
It's supposed to be a surprise.

HARRISON: Yeah.
He deserves a victory party.

Hey. You know what I want
to make for him?

The Iron Throne
from Game of Thrones.

Some of the guys
that have joined us are welders,

and I have these prop swords
from The Golden Compass--

one of Nicole's
lesser successes.

(sighs)

(whispers):
It's gonna be awesome.

Kai's your king?

Don't you think
that's a little too much?

What do you know about anything?

HARRISON:
Uh... are we early?

WINTER:
No. You're right on time.

You were supposed to get Kai.
Where is everybody?

The surprise is,
you're the guest of honor.

"The male likes death--
it excites him sexually,

"and, already dead inside,

he wants to die."

Who's this crazy bitch?

(saw whirring)

(grunting, shrieking)

(quietly):
Jesus.

What do you want from me?

-Answers.
-Okay.

-(saw stops)
-What happened to Meadow?

Kai wanted Ally to save her.

So I let her do it--
I didn't know she was gonna

-blow her own brains out.
-You should have known.

You were her husband,
and you let her be manipulated.

Oh, now you want to talk
about protecting our wives?!

I just drove my wife crazy.
I didn't get her killed!

(trembling breath)

Her death...

had more meaning than any moment
in her pathetic life.

And you know that.

And this is all Kai!

Kai's the genius!

He's the author of everything!

WINTER: What about
Men Lead, Women Bleed?

-You came up with that.
-What? No, I didn't.

Even if you just said it
to impress

your new SS-wannabe boyfriends,
it's disgusting.

-I never said it! -BEVERLY: Now
would be the time to deny it.

Not that we
would ever believe you.

You of all people know what
it's like to be marginalized,

pushed out.

You're a gay man.

-I'm a man!
-(saw whirring)

-And we are SCUM!
-No!

(Harrison screaming)

(screaming continues)

Put him out of his misery.

HARRISON:
No!

(screams)

This is Beverly Hope reporting.

Violence has erupted in
Brookfield Heights once again

with the macabre murder
of Funtime Fitness Gym trainer,

Harrison Wilton.

Pieces of Mr. Wilton's
dismembered corpse

were found by joggers
early this morning,

placed in a grisly arrangement.

The body was covered in a film
of scum from the pond behind me.

Police have yet
to determine a motive,

but due to the gruesome nature
of the crime,

believe the killing could be
in retaliation to the shooting

committed by the victim's wife,
Meadow Wilton.

Clearly, the promise
of law and order

in Brookfield Heights
is not being kept.

I can only pray
this latest murder

is not a sign of things to come.

This is Beverly Hope.

Back to you in the studio.

They're at their best
when they're angry.

Don't you think?

Aren't we all?