All language subtitles for Grotesquerie - 01x01 - Pilot.TGx.English.C.updated.Addic7ed.com

- Synced and corrected by naFraC -
- www.addic7ed.com -

The fuck?

God.

Speak.

Mm...

Oh... Slow down.

How many?

Oh, Jesus.

You're not gonna
believe this, Detective.

Try me.

Family's name is Burnside.

Dad was a radiologist at the university.

Mom was a nutritionist there, too.

Three kids.

What the hell, Jack?

Just, uh...

Just hand it over to the
Feds, Lois, we don't need it.

We don't.

The FBI? Why?

Because if this isn't a hate crime,

I don't know what is.

Hate against what?

Everything.

♪ Oh, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Ooh, oh, yeah, yeah ♪

♪ Same old story back again ♪

♪ She's not a lover,
she's just a friend ♪

♪ I'm sick and tired
for you to blame on me ♪

♪ Now you think it's funny... ♪

The end is near!

You know it!

I'm gonna kill you!
I'm gonna kill you all!

Wake up! Wake up!

The end is near!

You know it!

Get out of the way!

I'm gonna kill you and
your black fucking soul.

I am not the one. Not today.

The end is fucking here!

I know where you live!
I know where you live!

I know where you live!

Wake up! Wake up!

Mom.

Mom, can you bring the taquitos, please?

They're almost done.

And don't forget the avocado salsa.

Yeah. Avocado.

Fucking taquitos.

Christ.

What is perspective?

We'll accept perspective or perception.

What is quintessence?

Yes, you are right, for 800.

"Go West," 800.

Lewis and Clark were chosen

to explore this newly
acquired territory.

What is the Louisiana Purchase?

What is the Louisiana Purchase?

You should really go on this show.

It's not the show I want to go on, Mom,

- you know that.
- But you would win.

Big. You would win big, too.

Since you want to talk about
what people should be doing,

what about the bike, huh?

- Mm-mm, mm-mm.
- You bought it over a month ago.

I haven't seen you on it once.

That's not the ride I
want to take right now.

That thing's a killer. No, ma'am.

My goodness.

Let me see if I can get this going.

What is melatonin?

Let me see...

Let me see?

That's the middle piece.
Goes in the center.

Look.

You should put it there.
Everything else will connect.

- And how do you know that?
- Because I can tell.

How is that rash, Mom?

- Let me see it.
- Uh-uh.

Let's just keep watching this.

Mm. All right.

Told you, you need to
be using that ointment.

The last thing you want
is to get an infection.

You remember how it was
when I got that bedsore.

I don't need you mothering
me, Merritt, I don't.

Who was Calliope?

I just want to enjoy my goddamn drink

and decompress.

That's it.

Something happened. What happened?

Work? What happened?

You never ask me about work.

You never ask me questions.
You say you don't want to know.

Okay, so now I do.

Something's not right
with you. What's going on?

Leave it be.

- Leave it be.
- Yeah, something's off with you.

All right, whatever.

Okay. You know what I'm-a do?

I'm going to bed.

And I will go see Marshall tomorrow.

What is the continental divide?

The ECMO machine supplies
oxygen straight to the blood,

patient has had dialysis twice.

Excessive acid in the body fluids.

Prolonged endotracheal intubation,

that's anything exceeding seven days.

And Mr. Tryon here has been
on the ventilator for...

28 days.

Can we name any of the associated risks?

- Myopathy.
- Diaphragm dysfunction.

Uh, yes. Correct.

Gold stars all around. Excuse me.

Mrs. Tryon.

If I could have a moment?

Reassess?

R-Reassess what?

It's a cost-benefit analysis.

We're not a major hospital.

Because we want to keep Marshall
on life support long-term,

there are places that'll do that.

And to be clear, I'm
encouraging this approach.

What would you do, uh,
if it were your husband?

Look.

Let's just be real, okay?

Fight for your man.

Do everything you can
to preserve his life,

his extraordinary mind.

My God, this man's a keeper.

And I think you know that.

I'm very fond of him.

Okay.

I don't mean to be
crass, Nurse Redd, but...

- you don't really know him.
- Mm.

He's... he's not with us.

I don't feel his spirit anymore.

Oh, it's there.

It is there.

Behind the tubes

and the toes and the fingers curling

in twisted, hideous, rigor mortis.

Even when I wipe that man's ass,

- I...
- Excuse me?

Well, you don't do it, do you?

I do.

I'm a nurse.

That is what I do.

My God, the mind of this man.

The man of letters.

The professor of literature.

I get a shiver in my quiver
just thinking about it.

Are you aware

there are studies that
suggest that individuals

in medically-induced comas

are aware of their surroundings?

Helpful hint:

Maybe when you are here,

be a little more attentive, hmm?

Present?

- Excuse me?
- Yes.

According to my records,

this is what occurred
the last time you visited.

At 7:35, you arrived
and mumbled something

that sounded like, "Hey, how you doing?"

Not very loving.

What in the fuck?

You have cameras in
his room recording me?

As a matter of fact, I do.

I had them installed in
every room on that floor

ever since an orderly impregnated

a very ripe young
woman in a coma in 2019

under my unsuspecting watch.

And my hospital was forced to settle

an unseemingly large, vulgar lawsuit.

At 7:39,

after a brief period of hand-holding,

you became distracted by your iPhone

- and began scrolling through...
- Let me ask you.

You ever been married?

'Cause my guess is no.

You're correct.

This is what marriage is.

Showing up.

White-knuckling it
through the pain and regret

and fucking watching TMZ

and playing Candy Crush,

'cause at this point,

after all these years,

there are no more cocktail
conversations to be had.

You have a good day.

And one more thing:

Mind your goddamn business.

You understand?

I don't take shit.

And while I appreciate
your care of my husband...

my husband...

I won't be judged by you

or anybody else at this point
in my long, exhausted life.

That part.

He knows.

He hears!

He feels!

There is nothing there.

All the DNA is from the family's.

And the secretion stuff
is still unidentifiable

and headed to the CDC.

No fibers,

no cleaning agents, no bleach.

No prints, no cleaning.

Seems almost impossible.

Lois.

Lois.

The, um...

Quantico is sending a-a...

a lab team,

but they won't find anything we missed

because we didn't miss anything.

What do we know about the family?

Well, by all accounts, the Burnsides

are a comfortable,
loving, thriving family

made up of goodwill,
good jobs, good grades.

You have to really hate people
to do something like this.

It's-it's inhuman. No.

It's unhuman.

And more than that,

you have to have done
something like this before.

This is... this is not a first-timer.

You know? That takes expertise.

We're checking all the databases,

but nothing similar is coming
up as far as back as records go.

Something about it
seems so familiar to me,

like-like I've seen it before.

Detective?

There's some, uh, nun here to see you.

Says she's with this Catholic
news service or something.

A reporter nun.

- Sister?
- Thank you, yes.

I'm Sister Megan. You made time for me.

I really didn't have much choice.

Can't turn away a nun at the door.

Our dear Lord and
savior might swoop down

and kick my ass for that.

- Huh.
- I'm sorry?

You are young.

And the first nun I've ever seen
with a cell phone in her pocket.

- Mm.
- What is it I can do for you?

You have information
about the Burnsides?

No.

It's hard to explain.

Is there somewhere we can sit?

I could buy you a coffee
if you have the time.

I don't.

But we have good coffee here.

My husband got us one of
those machines from Italy.

Oh, wow.

That sounds perfect.

This way.

I don't understand why
The Catholic Guardian

is interested in murder.

We're a more progressive
weekly newspaper,

put out by the followers
of Saint Claret,

- who was a writer.
- Uh-huh.

We're funded by the Order of Claretians.

It's an order based on knowledge.

We put faith in the
context of everyday life

and are more focused on social justice.

Mm.

So, liberal Catholics?

You want to drive traffic

to your dwindling online
site by talking about murder.

Uh... the more gruesome, the better.

The more traffic.

The more readership.

Am I right?

The truth is, my reporting
on crimes and cults

has increased our online
readership significantly.

- Crimes and cults?
- As a person of faith,

I'm interested in rituals and cults

and their place in American life now.

They're replacing
traditional avenues of worship

and the way the battle
between good and evil

is manifested through them.

And you think the Burnsides

were murdered ritually.

How do you know that?

The Burnsides were devout.

Devout believers in social justice.

And the Church is a place
of justice and refuge.

Their priest...

is a friend of mine.

I would like to talk to him.

Of course, Detective.

You have an entire family murdered.

Is that correct?

I have an ongoing investigation

into five homicides in one house.

Go on.

On background.

The mother Alison Burnside
and her two children

were tied up...

with some sort of tactical wire.

The father was salted and peppered,

seasoned with fennel seed

and cayenne and roasted

for two hours in a 375 degree oven...

with sunchokes and baby carrots.

Mr. Burnside's cheeks were

thinly sliced...

think carpaccio...

and served along with his liver,

lungs

and kidneys

in some sort of a...

sauce that we have yet to identify.

And there is evidence...

that the family had eaten some of this.

And then, um...

there is the matter of, um, the...

you know.

No!

Please, please, please, please!

I don't know.

What was boiling

in the pot?

Think about the worst thing...

you can never unsee,

boiling in a pot.

That's your answer right there.

The mother

and her children

died of heart failure.

Do you understand this?

They were watching

and their hearts stopped beating.

Died of some sort of a... acute shock...

watching this.

And then, we came in

because their neighbor,

Mr. Burger,

reported hearing loud
chamber music at 3:00 a.m.

What kind of chamber music?

Vodka, Sister?

Mozart.

The Requiem.

It's the Requiem?

Yes. How did you know?

It seemed to fit.

Did you guess? Really, uh...

You-you guessed?

Tell me more, Sister.

Why do you say, "It fits"?

Is there something
else you're not sharing?

No.

I sensed it.

I sometimes... It's logic.

A kind of logic. Internally.

It's Mozart mourning death.

His own, really.

Well...

maybe you could help
me with something else.

There was an odd liquid
all over the house

and we still don't know what it is.

Maybe you can help me figure
out what that shit is, too.

The smell changes every now and then

from citrus to amber.

Then rotting flesh and so on.

A burning smell.

Acrid.

Acrid?

Smells acrid?

That could be from hair burning.

The keratin.

I see.

Keratin burning.

So, again, on background.

Why did you tell me all that?

On background?

Maybe because you're a woman?

Maybe because the notion of a nun

who's a journalist
covering crime, I like it?

I don't really know.

Are you a person of faith?

That's it. I'm not gonna
tell you everything, Sister.

And you have no theories of the case?

No idea, no suspect,
no clues of any kind?

It's like something you see in war.

What you are describing,

it's an atrocity, a war crime.

Something that happens in places

where there is no more
hope and no more order.

Well...

maybe that applies to here,

and now, and us.

I asked you before if
you're a woman of faith,

if you believe in the Lord.

Do you?

Do I believe someone died for my sins?

Do I believe in divinity?

In the redemptive power of...

of what?

No.

I do believe in prayer.

You?

Half the time.

Which is better than never.

Waters by Clearview

invites you to join the great escape

to Florida.

Say so long to pollution, crime,

rising inflation, and bleak winters.

Man... get us

a five-dollar girl...

up in here.

Do something strange for
a little piece of change.

So come on down.

The sun is warming.

Back, back, back again.

What?

Syd, that you?

Thought you were going

scuba diving or something.

Who needs the Galápagos when you got

weekly mass murders right here at home.

Nance took the kids.

We had a wire on this
place six months ago.

I said we should've made a move then.

You don't bust these guys,

they end up busting each
other and at a far higher cost.

Lois, this wasn't a grab.

APB said "armed B and
E" Where is everybody?

They're all inside.

- Just call them.
- The feds?

You don't get paid enough
to be dealing with this shit.

You don't know how much I make.

It's not enough.

Careful. Cleaners took the day off.

Anyone who does not need
to be in here right now,

take a small break.

Thank you.

Let's go, guys. Come on, hustle up.

My God.

Where's the blood, Jack?

Drained.

Drained where?

I couldn't tell
you, but before whomever,

whatever staged them,

we haven't found a drop of
it anywhere in the house.

Just that fluid again.

Just like the Burnside's.

Find the blood, Jack.

I mean, it's either
been dumped somewhere,

or being stored.

Call Holcomb County,

get the team of cadaver dogs down here

to sniff it out.

Romans 6.

The fuck are you?

Sister. You cannot be here.

Out. Out, out, out.

Let's go. Out. Now.

Fuck.

- Sorry.
- What the fuck are you doing?

This is an active crime scene.

You know who comes to crime scenes?

Most of the times, it-it's the perp

- and you can't...
- You're right. I'm sorry.

I'm gone.

Wait.

Come here.

Go inside. Take notes.

And don't touch anything.

- Lois, what are you doing?
- Doing?

I'm putting a fresh
pair of eyes on it, Jack.

You got a problem with it?

Dr. Mayhew, a visitor at the main lobby.

Taquitos, Marsh.

Two dozen. Can you fucking believe it?

And, and I try to say,

"Slow down, slow down on the calories."

She tells me, "Slow
down on the drinking."

But since you've been in here,

she won't stop.

And now...

she's determined

to be on this insane reality show

Half-Ton something.

Hmm.

She made me watch it. I couldn't do it.

Mm-mm.

I couldn't do it.

She has aspirations

to be the star of this thing, Marsh.

Why would she want that?

I went by the old Five Spot Bar.

It's closed.

I guess you will go down
in history as the only man

to ever propose marriage

to a woman in that dive.

And on the day I
graduated from the academy.

Shit.

I pretended to be mad at you.

But a shiny new badge

and a diamond ring
in the same afternoon?

I was a happy girl.

Come back to me.

Something is happening,

and I...

and I need you.

I...

can't quite put my finger on it.

I don't...

I don't know how it started.

But it's like a hole
opened up in the world

to the... to the center of nothingness.

You would...

You would say...

"Evil has always existed
in the world, hon."

You would quote some...

statistic that said there was...

less murder,

more health,

less global horror.

"Never been a better time

to be alive, hon."

That's what you would say.

I need you to c...

to come back, Marsh,

because it's not getting better.

I need to hear your answers on this.

Something... something
is happening around us.

Nobody sees but me.

Stop!

What the fuck?

Mom, what is happening?

Get back in the house.

Everything is fine.

Everything is fine?

Why are you firing your gun?

Have you lost your mind?

As a matter of fact, I have.

Get in the house.

Go, Merritt!

Get your ass in the house!

Come on.

I'm waiting.

" ... as he was raised from the dead,

by the glory of the Father,

we too might walk in
the newness of life."

It's interesting.

Christ is crucified and walks again.

The sinner is invited to walk with him,

yet whoever did this
has cut them in half.

As if to say he is the
final word on death.

Or she.

This-this case...

What?

Whoever is doing the
devil's work here is...

Fucking with you?

Sister. Language.

You are an odd little
bird for a goddamn nun.

So I've been told.

Also, just my two cents,

with the way the world is going,

horrible news and
cataclysms at every turn,

everything now feels
personal to everybody.

Maybe you're right.

I used to feel so tough.

I don't want this case.

Who else in your department can you
authorize to investigate it, then?

Not a goddamn one of
the men that work for me,

that's for sure.

Then I guess you're stuck with me.

The Swearing Nun.

Damned straight.

Okay, so...

we got the chemical report back

from the first crime scene

just before you arrived.

This is off the record.

Large concentrations

of sulfur dioxide.

Someone is messing with you.

Go on, Cagney to my Lacey.

- That's brimstone.
- What?

From the Bible.

It's what's in acid rain.
It's a curse, biblically.

It's what's behind the acrid
smell you described before.

Um, "The breath of Yahweh,
like a stream of brimstone,

doth kindle it." Book of Isaiah.

Or, "A third of mankind was
killed by these three plagues,

"by the fire, the
smoke and the brimstone

which proceeded out of their mouths."

Book of Revelation.

Always comforting, that one.

Great.

A religious psychopath.

- Synced and corrected by naFraC -
- www.addic7ed.com -