Original subtitles

Previously on Doom Patrol...

I'm staying here until I find Niles Caulder.

You've been here a day.

Palling around with a bunch of...

inept circus freaks.

Who died and made you team leader?

We're not heroes.

We're the ones who don't do anything.

You're a chickenshit.

You're right. I am afraid to look for Niles.

What do you want from me?

Ever since you decided to live inside my body,

my life has been a nightmare.

I had everything, and you fucked it all up!

You fucked it all up.

Tell me, Jane.

Are you not the core persona inside your little menagerie,

your inner demons?

You are one of many personalities

trapped within a single body.

Auf Wiedersehen, motherfucker.

Oh, God, what did I do?

- I'm sorry. - Don't.

- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --

_

♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

♪ Happy birthday, dear Elliot ♪

♪ Happy birthday to you ♪

Ah-ah.

Oh, right. Sorry.

In the beginning, there was the light.

And the light created a shadow.

And the shadow was good.

In the beginning,

there was the light.

And the light created a shadow.

And the shadow was good.

- Mom? - Yes, dear.

When do I get to save the world?

Soon.

When the Book is finished, all will be clear.

Isn't that right, honey?

Where's the happy birthday boy?

- _ - There you are.

I baked your favorite.

Wow.

Oh, fudge. I forgot the knife.

Run!

You're not here to save the world, son. You're here to end it.

You're not the savior. You need to...

Whoopsie daisy.

That was a close one.

Today is the day, Elliot. The Book is complete.

It's your day to save the world.

It's going to be fantastic!

Sweetie...

Come back down.

This cake isn't gonna eat itself.

Elliot...

You get down here and you eat this fucking cake, Elliot!

The past few days I've had the sinking feeling

the Cult of the Unwritten Book was active again.

Feels different this time.

Like the bastards might have actually pulled it off.

Signs are bloody everywhere, if you know where to look.

_

"Who killed Cock Robin?

'I,' said the sparrow, 'with my bow and arrow.'"

"'I,' said the fly, 'with my little eye,

'I saw him die.'"

"'Who'll dig his grave?'

'I,' said the crow. 'For I will bury him... '"

Shit! "'Where only death can grow!'"

Daddy...

Can I nap with you?

Of course you can. Come here.

- What the fuck? - Hey, Jane. I didn't... Wait.

Don't fucking touch me!

- Don't talk to me! - Okay.

- Okay, Jane... - I'm not Jane.

I'm fucking Hammerhead.

And your wife, Sheryl. How did you meet her?

Bishop John Carroll High School.

Class of '46.

We were high school sweethearts.

And when did you meet Staff Sergeant John Bowers?

- Excuse me? - John Bowers.

He was your mechanic.

Fuck you.

What happened last night?

Why was Jane in my room?

I told you not to talk to me.

And I hear you. But, can you at least tell me

why Jane was in my room?

That wasn't Jane.

Jane's taking a time out.

That was Baby Doll and she fucked up, too.

That's why I'm here.

Did I do something wrong?

- Ya think? - What? What did I do?

Paraguay.

Paraguay? What about Paraguay?

I'm not your therapist. You figure it out.

Huh?

Just to get us up to date on the Chief's possible whereabouts,

there are 37 known dimensions in the universe.

As you can see, I've mapped them.

Our challenge as a team, is to pinpoint...

- Yes? - We're not a team.

You keep saying we're a team. We're not a team.

You wanna find the Chief, don't you? I know I do.

Larry? Cliff? What about you?

Do you wanna find the Chief?

- Sure. - Sure.

See?

A group of people...

A common goal.

Looks like a team to me.

Yeah...

- Where's Rita? - I'm right here.

I guess my invite got stuck at Western Union

or is this what passes as a cold shoulder nowadays?

Neither.

It's a meeting about where we stand in search for the Chief.

Apparently, there's 37 dimensions.

I see that, yes.

Rita, you're welcome to sit in if you want,

but I just figured, given our conversation,

you'd probably wanna sit this one out.

You know, not being into it and all.

But I'm sure we can think of something for you to do if you want.

Where was I?

- If we look at the fundamentals... - Jesus, fuck.

... at the subatomic level and the atomic level...

Thanks for standing up for a gal, Larry.

Remind me never to count on you for anything.

Not in the mood, Rita. Not today.

Of course not. You're on his side.

Oh, right.

You want me to pretend Vic was lying about you.

Just try supporting me for once.

Jane has Cliff. Who do I get?

You think I have a choice?

This thing inside me wants to be involved.

- Just... - Caulder!

Who is that?

Caulder! You old cunt.

Where the hell are you?

The Cult of the Unwritten Book's on the march.

Excuse me, sir.

- Caulder! - Sir!

Niles Caulder isn't here.

Where the hell is he?

We don't know where he is,

or for that matter, when he'll be back.

But, if you'd like to leave a message,

maybe tell us who you are...

A message? Sure.

How's this? "Dear, Caulder, you wanker,

I need my penny you nicked.

'Cause the world's about to fucking end. Again."

Signed, "Your old pal, Kip."

That's your name? Kip?

Name's Kipling. Willoughby Kipling.

Knights Templar, in case you're wondering.

Don't suppose that means anything to either of you.

I'm very big in the world of, shall we say,

international strangeness.

So go ahead. Check me out.

In the meantime, I'll be in that bag of goat shit's office.

Saving the world.

So Caulder never told any of you freaks

about the Cult of the Unwritten Book?

The who of the what?

What's the Cult of the Unwritten Book?

Goddamn nightmare, for starters.

They're hellbent on bringing out the destruction of the world.

The Book, which they believe to be the word of God,

is being written as we speak.

Once it's completed,

the Cult will attempt to read it.

If successful, the Eye will be summoned.

The Decreator.

And the world will be unmade.

Who is this guy?

Is he someone's uncle?

There you are.

The Little Sisters of our Lady of the Razor

paid me a visit this morning.

Nuns.

A straight razor in each hand.

Cut through walls.

Doesn't take a rocket scientist to know it's a sign.

Book is close to being finished.

Oh...

Hmm.

So...

We need to find the Book...

before the Cult finds him.

Wait. What do you mean "him"?

- Yeah. The Book's a person. - That makes no sense.

And where's this Book?

Baphomet will tell us.

Who?

The Oracle. She's coming.

Is anything gonna make sense today?

What the fuck?

♪ After nine days ♪

♪ They let the horse run free ♪

♪ Because the Book ♪ ♪ Was nearly complete ♪

♪ There is a mommy and daddy ♪

♪ Ready and happy for Elliot ♪

♪ To be the one ♪

♪ In the suburb of Salt Lake ♪

♪ In the family of Patterson ♪

♪ And the Gates ♪ ♪ Are opening wide ♪

♪ To the city of Nurnheim ♪

♪ No matter how hard you try ♪

♪ Time is not on your side ♪

♪ Because I've been to ♪

♪ The desert on a horse ♪

♪ With no name ♪

I say fuck that limey and the horse head he rode in on.

She's not wrong.

Some Mr. Bean guy comes in off the street

and we abandon the search for the Chief?

Exactly. We're not superheroes.

No one's forcing you to be a part of this.

We know where you stand.

Does his story check out?

Ish. He is a member of the Knights Templar.

And an established Chaos Magician,

which explains some of the weird stuff we've seen so far.

But there are a few gaps in his past.

And some shadows.

And we're supposed to just believe drunk David Copperfield

that the world's gonna end?

I don't know if I trust Kipling,

but I believe the horse head.

Keep chatting. Take your time.

It's not as though we're trying to...

halt the apocalypse or anything.

You believe a blue horse head.

I do.

I just don't understand anything anymore.

We're in.

Glad you could fit it in your schedule.

- What is that? - What's it look like, metal tits?

It's a door.

Go through it and you find the Book, Elliot.

So you smoke a couple of cancer sticks

and suddenly you can open a door to anywhere?

You think that's tobacco?

Fuck it. Let's party.

Wait!

Ugh. What on earth was that?

Two grams of Michelangelo's ashes.

You are not well.

- Close the portal. - Close the portal.

Close the portal!

- You give me back my Book. - Fuck off, shitbird!

Dear God.

Let go of me.

It's a cloaking spell.

Hides him from the Cult.

Buys us time to complete the job.

We saved the kid. What else is there?

Now we kill him.

- And burn him. - No way. Not happening.

- No! - We do not kill kids.

Or burn books. He's both.

Folks, now is not the time to start throwing spanners.

If he gets read,

it's Katy bar the bloody door.

Then we stop him from being read.

- There has to be another way. - Yeah, sure.

It's easy. All we have to do is

close the bloody Gates to Nurnheim.

And after that we can cure cancer.

What the hell is Nurnheim?

Nurnheim is the ghost of a city destroyed centuries ago.

Cult was trying to read him, that's where they come from.

Okay. So we close the Gate. How hard could it be?

The Gates...

are not Gates. It's a stigmata on a person on their hands.

And as the Gates open, more assassins are unleashed.

Assassins?

Yeah, and I don't mean MILFs with cleavers. Look...

The only way to close the Gates

is to find the person with the stigmata and sew the wound shut.

Any of you know how to sew?

Wow. Suddenly I'm useful.

To fight assassins. Of course.

I can knit.

I knit, okay?

Dental floss?

Janis Joplin's dental floss.

The strongest known spiritual thread in the world,

the only thing powerful enough to sew the Gates shut.

Now, listen closely.

Don't be idiots. Don't fart around.

Just close the Gates.

I'm going with Hammerhead.

This place will be crawling with assassins.

I should go.

Okay, except, I'm going with Hammerhead.

Okay. Cliff goes with Hammerhead.

The rest of us will stay here and protect the kid.

Exactly where are these Gates?

Good question.

This will tell us where.

Fuck it all. My last piece.

- Chewing gum? - "Knowing gum."

It'll give me the answer.

Where can we find the Gates of Nurnheim?

He swallowed it.

Was that on purpose?

That never digests, you know. It's in there forever now.

Got it.

- _ - Thank you, Flit.

Okay, Hammerhead.

Before the world ends, you mind telling me

what put me on your shit list?

And what the hell Paraguay means?

Fuck!

What?

If I tell you, will you leave me alone?

Sure.

Paraguay was an eye-opener.

All that carnage, the blood.

You had Jane conned pretty good, but I know better.

Cliff, you're a fucking monster.

You're just another bundle of toxic masculinity.

Wow! That's rich

coming from someone who calls themself "Hammerhead."

I've seen you in action.

You're every bit as aggressive as I am.

The difference is I exist for a reason.

What the fuck is your excuse?

We need to be prepared in case they can't close the Gates.

Or the magic cloaking doesn't work.

This was never just about relying on your magic.

We're prepared to fight.

I'll secure the perimeter

and make sure everything is locked up tight.

Larry...

Can you stay close to the kid in case anything gets through us?

Sure.

I need hot sauce.

Check the fridge upstairs.

You think Larry is different from me?

He'll be the first to tell you he's no hero.

None of us are.

I don't see it that way.

You can't make us into something we're not, Vic.

No matter how much you have to prove...

I'm not here to prove anything.

Bullshit.

You know what? Maybe you're right.

Maybe Larry's not a hero.

But that thing inside him is.

It might also be insane.

Look at this fucking place.

Hello?

How many lives were wrecked here, you think?

In the shadows?

Um...

I'm a little too busy in my own slasher flick here

to get into all that now.

Hello? Who's in there?

Hey. Easy. Whoa, whoa, padre.

We're here to help stitch you up.

Me llamo Cliff.

Cliff. Well, that's all the Spanish I got.

Right. Let's keep it short and sweet.

All right. Hammerhead, you ready?

Hammerhead?

Hammerhead, help me close this guy's stupid hand gate things!

Right.

Here.

- Let me help you, motherfucker! - Whoa, whoa.

Just like you helped all those people who trusted you!

What the hell are you doing...

She trusted you!

I don't know what happened to you,

but this isn't about that.

Fuck you!

Wait! Wait!

Oh, shit.

Is this Nurnheim?

Are we in goddamn Nurnheim?

This isn't snow.

You really shit the bed on this one, didn't you?

That fucknut magician gave us one job.

To stop the end of the world. But, no...

You had to kick the Gate wide open and drag me with you!

I'm sorry, sir.

Wait. Which one are you?

Penny Farthing, sir.

Please don't hurt me, sir.

Where's Hammerhead?

I'm stuck in Nurnheim

and I don't even get to yell at Hammerhead?

I'm sorry, sir. Hammerhead has been relieved.

The church was too provocative.

God damn it!

You feel like we've seen this place before?

No, sir. I'm sorry.

Say you're sorry one more time.

Interlopers!

You have no business here.

That is technically true.

You will come with us.

All right. Penny, you ready to fight?

Yes, sir.

Seriously?

Okay, you know you fucked all the way up now.

You're pissing me off even more than she did.

Nurnheim sucks.

What are you doing?

Nothing guards a threshold

like a rosary that's been enchanted and spiced.

And one on each door.

If they can get through that, grab the kid,

well, fuck it all.

World's meant to end.

That incantation...

"Love Me Do." Or a reasonable facsimile.

"Hard Day's Night" is much stronger, but...

can never remember the words.

Don't question the magic.

Worked well for us so far, hasn't it?

I'm sorry. You really think this is gonna save me?

I've done all I can, boy.

Let's be honest,

I'm half pissed and the rest of you lot are jarringly incompetent.

But, uh, good luck to us all, eh?

Grid, run a system evaluation.

Category, integrated weapons.

We all locked up?

As good as a rickety old house can be.

I'd be happier knowing that your friends have got the Gates closed.

Uh-huh.

You stoned?

Running a weapons inventory.

Oh.

Me too.

Scotch. Check. Vodka. Check. Bourbon. Check.

Gin. Check.

Are you sure you don't want a clear head

in case we have to throw down later?

God, no.

If we're fighting, I wanna be properly rat-assed.

No.

So, what's your plan?

You zap everything that comes through that door?

Zap? Yeah, amongst other things.

A lot of faith to put in gadgets.

The Book's not being hunted by a pack of muggers.

I'll take science over whatever it is

that you do any day of the week.

Nobody's rooting harder for you than I.

But if your science and my whatever it is that I do don't work...

we're gonna have to reexamine our options.

Are you talking about killing the kid?

I'm talking about destroying the Book.

That Book has a name.

Elliot.

And there is no way I'm killing him.

Or anyone for that matter.

'Cause you're a hero.

And what are you exactly? Seriously?

How the hell did Niles ever get mixed up with you?

The man that I've known since I was six

wouldn't even dream of what you're suggesting.

Sounds like you and I know two different Niles Caulders.

You and the rest of those idiots

have your "Chief."

A kindly uncle, quick with a pat on the back

and some friendly advice.

And you've got Niles, the cold-blooded killer?

I've got a man

who'll make the decisions that have to be made

to keep the world spinning.

A man who's willing to live with those decisions

and forever be haunted by them.

It's okay.

You're young.

You can afford to be a little stupid.

If you're lucky,

maybe you'll live a little longer.

Maybe they'll pack you into a few dark corners.

Then you may surprise yourself what you're really capable of.

Maybe you shouldn't have your phone on.

Someone could track us.

That's a beauty.

Yeah.

Fixed it up together.

All three of us. Couple hours a day.

We did everything together.

I'm sorry, Elliot.

You know, they were my only friends.

I don't even know if they loved me.

They told me I had a destiny.

I was gonna be a hero.

Save the world.

But this, I...

I don't want this.

I hate that word.

"Hero."

It's dangerous.

A title other people hang on you

and you're supposed to carry it around.

But that's what you all are, right?

No.

I tried being a hero once and I destroyed everything I had.

You're lucky.

Lucky?

You can't live for other people.

You have to be true to yourself.

You're learning that now.

Took me a lifetime to figure that out.

I don't have a lifetime.

You heard Kipling. The Cult's after me.

They're gonna take me, they're gonna read me and we die.

- You don't know that. - I should've just stayed at home.

Let them read me, get it over with.

Don't say that, Elliot. Try to have a little faith.

Faith?

I just saw my fucking mom slit my dad's throat!

Fuck your faith!

I'm sorry.

The whole world's gonna end 'cause of me.

Maybe I should just take care of this on my own.

Just fucking kill myself.

John Bowers. He was your mechanic.

Yes, I know who he is.

I just don't feel like talking about him.

- And why is that? - Because it's pointless.

I don't think you believe that.

How many times do we have to go into my past?

The people I know...

Oh, God.

... or knew had nothing to do with this.

This is the result of catching a bad ride.

Do you want the world to end?

Is that it?

You think that'll get you out of me for good?

What in God's name do you want?

Why do you keep prodding me like this?

I don't have time to play games with you.

There you are.

Look, I know it's easier for you to come out

when he's under duress,

but we really must work on that.

No. I have something to show you.

Now, I know we've tried to communicate

in several ways with limited success.

But I have a feeling I have nailed it this time.

This device could be the answer.

You are composed of an energy yet to be discovered.

This is designed to convert energy

into an audible frequency.

All I need is for you to enter this machine so we may attempt

to find your voice.

What do you say?

I only want to help you.

Both of you.

Very good.

Now, I'm going to ask you some simple questions

and I want you to answer through speech if you can.

Do you have a name?

Where do you come from?

Where do you call home?

Do you remember coming into contact with Captain Trainor's plane?

How do you sustain yourself in Captain Trainor's body?

How do you live in there?

Torture.

How's that?

Torture? How?

Physically?

No. Hold on.

Let's keep going.

I have many more questions I want to ask you.

How do you sustain yourself in Captain Trainor's body?

How do you live in there?

Torture.

How's that? Torture? How?

Physically?

No. Hold on.

Let's keep going.

I have many more questions for you.

So Larry's a hero all of a sudden and I'm out?

That's how it's going to be, you arrogant can opener?

No one's forcing you to be a part of this.

We know where you stand.

My eye.

You idiots want to hold up here

and wait for something horrible to carve you to pieces?

Be my guest.

Elliot. Elliot. What the hell do you think you're doing?

Aren't you supposed to be downstairs with Larry?

Why? So I'll be safe?

It's all pointless.

I'm fighting destiny. Why?

My life's destroyed anyway, so...

Decided I'd help everybody out and just kill myself.

Well, this is only the second floor.

You wouldn't kill yourself.

Maybe break an arm or a leg.

Plus, to be fair, you'd have to die and be burned

if you wanted to really save everyone.

It doesn't matter.

'Cause I'm so weak, I couldn't even try.

I'm a failure.

I'm a failure. And the whole world's gonna pay for it.

Hey, stop that.

It's going to be okay.

Come here.

This world...

is a beautiful, horrible place.

It's spectacular.

You don't need the burden of ending it.

Maybe the people in this house can't save you.

We failed before.

But can you at least let us try?

Now what the hell?

Welcome, guests.

Giant clowns? Nope.

Run and the Hoodmen will only gather you again.

You may stay as our guests.

I don't want to...

be stung. It looked like it hurt.

So what the hell are you supposed to be?

We are the Archons.

The high priests of Nurnheim.

Wait.

I know you.

You tried to steal the Book from me.

You're the boy's parents.

We were, but we have ascended.

A reward for protecting the Unwritten Book until its completion.

This is your reward?

All of Nurnheim is ours.

Dad's taking a real victory lap.

His suffering was brief.

As will be our glory.

Because soon the Decreator will rise

and set right to existence and then we,

all of us, will cease to be.

I hate to break it to you, but that's not gonna happen.

Because you are going to stop us?

You're too late, guests.

All of Nurnheim has gone to retrieve and read the Unwritten Book.

Good luck finding him.

We put a spell on him with weird spit and everything.

He's invisible to you.

You can't read what you can't see.

But you're wrong.

We see everything.

Gone! You let him go?

What is wrong with you?

- I trusted you. - I didn't do anything. It was him.

- Who's him? - Why would he do that?

- Don't you get it? - Who's he?

He's just as screwed up as me.

You need to pull yourself together.

Nobody's gonna explain anything to me, are they?

Elliot is fine. He's terrible, but he's fine.

I thought you'd run off to...

Kill myself?

Yeah, I was, uh... I was thinking about it.

She talked me into staying safe.

I don't know why, but I thought this horse's ass could save him.

Get the boy downstairs. It's them.

You're with me. You take the hall.

Make sure nobody comes downstairs. Go!

Can I trust you?

Can I trust it?

It does love a fight.

Hurry. Hurry.

Who in the world put those there?

Oh, uh, Willoughby did. They're magic.

They're supposed to protect the lab.

He dipped them in Sriracha.

Well, let's put them back together again.

Grid, activate sonic canon.

Science.

What's that for?

Magic.

That's it. They're in.

- Dry bachelors. Of course. - Dry bachelors?

Assassins. Pain surgeons.

Made out of dead skin and letters that were never sent.

Anytime now.

Whenever you're ready.

Oh, come on. Quit playing games.

Release, or whatever.

This isn't gonna work.

It's fine. It's totally fine.

- I don't wanna die. - And you won't.

We're going to gather all the little disgusting beads

and keep you safe while the others fight whatever it is out there.

We're going to save the world or whatever

and then I will have a stiff Manhattan and go to bed.

I don't care about my destiny.

I don't care about saving the world. I just don't want to die.

Listen, I was well on my way out of here when you stopped me.

And God knows why, I actually did something good.

I am being a good person

and you are absolutely ruing this moment for me.

So shut up and pick up the stupid beads!

Behind you!

Nice science.

Nice magic.

What happened to your arm gun thingy?

Uses up too much juice.

Besides...

we don't need it.

We got this.

Got them on the run.

Let's go clean 'em up.

No, it's not right.

They don't just leave.

Wait.

What are those?

Jesus. Hoodmen.

It's the royal guard of Nurnheim.

The robot and the lunatic must have dropped the ball on this one.

- This is bad. - Screw 'em. We keep fighting.

We gotta take these things out, no matter what.

You're right. We do. Sorry.

Sorry for what?

Ahhh!

Kipling, you...

- Here. - Good. Check under the chair.

That won't be necessary.

- It's over? - We won?

Not yet. But we will.

You have to take care of him.

There's too many of them.

No, please.

Elliot!

Grid, transfer all energy to ionic grenade.

Contain it to the room and let it rip!

So this is it? We just stare at each other until the world ends?

Won't be long until the Book is read.

I can feel it.

The Book? You mean your son?

To me, he is the Unwritten Book.

I gotta hand it to you, lady.

I've been a pretty shitty dad.

You know, checked out for a while now.

But you take the whole goddamn cake.

Raising your only kid

just so you can sacrifice him to a death cult

after killing his dad in front of him?

That there is some top shelf bullshit.

Back me up here, Tiny Tim.

Oh. Uh...

Very bad mother, sir.

That's only one perspective.

To you, I am a bad mother.

To many others, I was a good custodian of the Book.

It was always happy.

No, that's not a perspective.

That's a delusion.

And the reality is you're a fucking psychopath.

There is no reality.

There is only perception.

The way we see things.

The way we see ourselves.

No, this can't be real. Hey, you seeing this?

Jane? Jane?

Jane?

Then there's how we see each other.

Is this really how you see me?

Clara? You think I see Jane as my daughter?

Stop this, please.

First...

You should see your true essence.

You're nothing more than an organ in a container.

Are you not?

You? Young Kay?

Scared and wounded child.

But soon all will see what will be.

Because the Decreator will make everything nothing.

My God. Is that the Decreator?

We're too late.

Maybe I should have done "A Hard Day's Night."

- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --