It's over.
We know who you are.
Your allies are all dead.
You failed.
I've already proven to you that I can defy death.
I'm just gonna bring her back.
And when I do, my Ms. Mead will stand by me as we watch you die.
You can certainly go to Hell, but you won't find her there.
What have you done?
Her soul is hidden by a spell only I can break.
You'll never see her again.
You're alone.
I'm never alone.
I have my father.
Where is he now?
Why did he let this happen?
You don't have to follow this path
your father laid out for you.
You can write your own destiny.
You can still turn away.
There's humanity in you.
I see it.
If you come with me,
maybe we can find it.
Together.
Somehow,
some way, I am gonna bring her back.
And then I'm gonna kill every last one of you.
I'm not going any further.
Father, tell me what to do, and I'll do it.
I'm not leaving this circle until you talk to me.
They're gone. The warlocks,
my Ms. Mead.
Burned alive at the stake by the witches.
Until nothing was left
but ash and smoke.
You tell me what to do...
or you let me die here.
Would you like a grape Fanta?
- No, I'm on a mission. - You're hungry.
You need nourishment. Take an apple.
It's so juicy. It's so juicy.
I have to talk to my father.
You don't have-you don't have to do anything. All are welcome.
Come to the light.
Leave me alone.
Why you do this to me?
You left me to die. To burn.
To burn.
I'm afraid.
You're not real.
None of this is re-real.
Don't listen to her.
You've done a great job.
No.
I failed.
I'm lost. I don't understand my purpose.
You're everything we expected.
The Alpha and the Omega.
Who is, who was,
and who is to come.
Liar!
God loves you.
Are you my father?
What do you want from me?!
What am I supposed to do?!
Fuck am I supposed to do?
You lost?
People.
Listen the fuck up.
Just because we have a president who's a total douchenozzle
and global warming is getting worse,
that doesn't mean you can sit here on your lazy asses
and holler out a few "Hail Satans."
You think end-time's just gonna show up
like a herpes sore?
So tired of preaching to the goddamn choir.
What aren't you getting? You know the drill.
The Antichrist is gonna ride in on a wave of sin,
and all we have here is a weak piss dribble.
Somebody, please help me out. I'm about ready
to gouge out my own eyes so I don't have to look
at this weak-ass congregation anymore.
I need to hear some sins.
I need to feel we're making way for him.
You.
What are your sins?
What did you do to usher him in this week?
I stole a hundred dollars from my register at work.
Seriously? A fucking rounding error?
You think that's gonna open up
the Gates of Hell?
- I slept with my wife's sister. - I've seen bad face-lifts
that are more evil than you.
You want to know what I did this week?
You want to be inspired?
You want to know how I'm helping bring end-times?
I robbed a nursing home
and I gave all the money to the NRA.
Next week I need to feel some evil.
I need to be repulsed.
I need to feel sick to my stomach.
I want to be inspired!
Whatever. Okay.
Let's speak in tongues for a hot sec and...
show some respect.
I don't have any money right now.
Or any food, from the looks of it.
How long has it been since you ate, kid?
What's it to you?
Just...
trying to help out a fellow believer.
You know...
after the service...
I could fix you something.
My place is only a couple of blocks from here.
That's actually really nice of you.
What can I say?
Nobody's perfect.
What's your name, kid?
Michael.
You must have been starving.
I seen a lot of young people like you come to our church
off the five stars on Yelp and the free doughnut at check-in.
They all had the same look you do.
Scared. Searching.
Questioning what the hell this all means.
So...
what's your story?
How did you end up all alone
and at our beloved Satan's doorstep?
My father abandoned me.
And my mother tried to kill me.
Humanity...
is shit.
This world is a twisted black hole
of sin and chaos,
and that's why Satanism is the way of the future.
We are the fastest-growing religion in the world,
so we need people like you...
bright, eager, the next generation...
to help spread the word of Lucifer.
'Cause here's the beautiful secret, babe.
Once you embrace that, at our core,
we are degenerate, rotten beings...
every last one of us...
you'll be free.
Satanism...
is about giving in to your urges,
embracing sin, your true nature.
I sold my soul to the Devil,
and he gave me everything I ever wanted.
You sold your soul?
Did you sign a contract in blood?
I made a deal in a Black Mass, as one does.
Through prayer.
And by prayer... I mean...
killing people... it works.
You're standing in the proof.
I offered up my soul, and...
he gave me all this.
Riches beyond compare.
I've got a... a La-Z-Boy,
a-a cable package with all the premium channels.
I shoot up heroin
as much as I want, and I never get the sweats.
And every Wednesday night Brad Pitt comes over
and fucks me till the sun comes up.
On Friday nights I get Ryan Reynolds.
So that's all it is, then.
Satan is carnal pleasure.
Hell no.
We've got a greater purpose.
We are moving towards the beginning of the end.
Our savior is coming.
The spawn of Satan will...
lead us off the cliff and into the end-times.
We just have to make things terrible enough for him to rise.
We are the fetid,
rancid, contaminated soil
from which he will bloom.
And then plunge us
in eternal darkness
so that we can walk with Satan in eternal hellfire.
I hate to break it to you...
but you're waiting in vain.
What are you talking about?
I'm the one you're waiting for.
How dare you blaspheme!
Well, before you kill me, dear believer...
see me.
Hail Satan!
Our savior has risen!
# Semper crescis #
# Aut decrescis #
# Vita #
# Detestabilis #
# Nunc obdurat #
# Et tunc curat #
# Ludo mentis #
# Aciem #
# Sors salutis #
# Et virtutis #
# Michi nunc #
# Contraria #
# Quod per sortem #
# Sternit fortem #
# Mecum omnes #
# Plangite! #
Ladies and gentlemen,
the volunteer All-Sinners choir!
They really know how to raise some hell, don't they, kids?
Hail Satan!
And, you ask, why does it rain every time they sing?
Because God is pissing in his pants.
Hail Satan!
Well, now that we're in the mood,
are you ready for an old-fashioned human sacrifice?
- Yeah! - Black Mass...
you are everything!
This is Leticia.
She is a social worker.
And she's dedicated her entire life
to easing the suffering of those less fortunate.
Bitch, please.
Theodore...
is a lifelong member of Doctors Without Borders.
Isn't that just too precious?
Minus the two of them, I think the world will be
a little bit shittier.
So why waste any more time?
The honor of today's killing goes
to a new member... Phil.
Go, Phil!
Phil, tell us a little something about yourself.
Well, I was the chief accountant at Gawker
before, you know...
- that whole thing. - Ugh! Ouch.
Then my girlfriend left me
and my life turned to shit...
until I saw the darkness.
Are you ready to pledge your soul to Satan?
Am I ever.
They're all yours.
Hail Satan!
Hail Satan.
Don't let me down, Phil.
Wait!
This honor belongs to someone else.
Someone else?
His name is Michael.
He's...
new here.
Well, even if he's willing to sell his soul,
why should he go before...?
Michael doesn't need to sell his soul.
The end-times
are upon us.
Behold.
The mark of the beast.
Is it possible that...
you're the one?
I am.
Hail Satan.
# O Fortuna #
# Velut luna #
# Statu #
# Variabilis. #
- Hail Satan! - Hail Satan!
Is it too spicy?
No. It's good.
Oh, thank the Dark Lord.
It's my mother's recipe.
Now try the macaroni salad.
No, the turkey meatballs.
May I touch your hair?
Let the kid eat.
O-Or is something wrong?
What can we get you? What can we do?
I just think everyone should do what you normally do.
Have fun.
Enjoy your Wednesday potluck dinner like always.
You heard him.
Our guest of honor eats at his own pace.
Though I can personally vouch for the spinach lasagna.
It would be the honor of my life to watch you eat it.
So, what happens next?
Probably your lasagna.
No,
I meant on the global annihilation front.
What do we do first?
When do we do it?
I'm not sure.
What do you mean you're not sure?
I don't know what to do,
where to begin.
But you're the Antichrist.
Which people won't let me forget.
Everyone keeps saying that I'm special,
that I'm the only one who can bring about the end-times,
but nobody gave me a fucking instruction manual.
And the one person who always helped me,
who I could always turn to for advice,
she's gone now.
I have no one.
Oh.
I-I think there's some people you need to see.
Who?
Just trust me.
We are on the precipice of oblivion, Michael.
Now is not the time to bury yourself in doubt.
This person who helped you,
what was her name?
Ms. Miriam Mead.
We have access to private search engines
that can find anyone.
And... there she is.
We'll just go and pick her up.
It's not possible.
I'm not powerful enough to bring her back.
Not anymore, at least.
She's dead.
Dead?
That's something we can work around.
You are the son of Satan.
There is no one
or no thing
you cannot have.
I don't know why
you won't just tell me exactly where we're going.
I'm sorry. I'm already a little freaked out
I've said too much. And you being who you are...
It's okay.
You don't have to be nervous around me.
I'm the same guy I was when you met me.
That is so not true.
Just tell me.
We are, like, this secret network.
We all know each other.
A secret network of people who sold their souls.
Yeah.
And...
if you think about this network like it's a hotel,
then I am taking you to the penthouse.
No one is gonna pass up a chance
to meet the true son of the most foul.
If there is anyone who can help get you back on track, they can.
You're not coming with me?
They're only interested in you.
Just... go up the path to the entrance.
I really think you're gonna be impressed.
At least I hope so.
Why are you so good to me?
I've waited for you my whole life.
We all have.
Could I ask you a favor?
Anything.
When you finally talk to your father,
could you maybe put in a good word for me?
When I get to Hell,
I want to be in the lowest circle.
Circle?
However it's structured,
I want to be in the worst part.
Or the best part.
I want to burn in blistering fire
for all eternity in service.
I'll see what I can do.
- Okay? - Okay.
Hail Satan!
Tell me that wasn't the last of it.
I ordered more, bruh. How you coming?
Almost done.
Okay.
Let's try it.
Holy shit, that's way better. What'd you do?
Eh, I tweaked the feedback sensors on the finger joints
and gave the lateral servos a flush.
The next auto-update, all our Tiffany and Bambi users
are going to be very happy.
Fuck yeah, bro. I'm pitching a tent just looking at that.
Mm.
- Oh, shit! - Whoa, whoa!
- Oh! - Oh, oh! Well,
5,000 of our clients just got their dicks ripped off.
It's okay, it's okay.
- I know what the problem is. - Yeah, I know
what my problem is... I need another fix.
Hey, babe, we're spiraling here.
Do you have an ETA?
Babe? Babe?
Babe?
It's just arriving now.
Terribly sorry for the delay.
I'm so sorry, Ms. Venable.
There was a bad accident on the 101.
Not as bad as the accident that brought you into the world,
I'm sure.
I got back as fast as I could.
You don't have to insult me again.
I certainly don't have to.
But why deny myself
one of life's simple pleasures?
Now set that down
and summon all your brain cells to clear your desk.
Y-You can't treat people like this.
I'm gonna report you to HR.
I am HR, bitch.
And everything else that matters around here, too.
Now, do me a favor
and get the fuck out of my sight.
Dude, this easy listening music
you're always playing is not helping.
How many times do I have to tell you,
don't knock the playlist, the playlist is everything.
Light rock is soothing for me; it is calming, it is focusing.
Other than cocaine, it is my cocaine.
Ah. Yes.
Oh, babe, you're a lifesaver.
Hey, I was working.
Oh, shit. I'm sorry.
I forgot.
# Oh, can't you see the morning after? #
Ha-ha.
# It's waiting right outside #
# The storm... #
Easy.
How do you guys not OD?
Oh... hell if I know.
- Devil of a mystery. - The package
of dog feces is on its way to Mr. Zuckerberg's estate...
fourth-class mail, of course.
Rihanna's people called... she'll be available all weekend,
and I've already purchased the island.
- Oh, nice. - Yes. Ms. Venable.
What would our lives be without you?
Oh, I just can't imagine.
A lot less purple.
Yeah, purple's Ms. Venable's thing.
Just as self-abasement is yours.
Zinger. Yeah.
Lastly, the front desk
says there's a gentleman here to see you.
Apparently he claims to have arranged this meeting
- with you himself. - Uh, yeah.
If you could let him in the private elevator, please?
Certainly.
Don't ever call me "babe."
Sometimes, I swear, she hates our guts.
Dude.
What's up?
Come on in. Dying to meet you.
Madelyn's really been talking you up.
That lady is whacked, right?
But she seems totally convinced that you're The One.
No offense, but I thought you'd be a little bit more jacked.
Like, I was picturing you totally ripped, like The...
like The Rock when he was, you know, The Rock.
Yeah, that's, like, stereotypical, dude.
- What do you mean? - Yeah, that's not cool.
Uh, what's your name again?
Michael.
- Langdon. - Michael Langdon.
I mean, got to admit, that's a little weak, right?
Yeah.
Shouldn't you be like Beelzebub or some shit like that?
Old Scratch?
- Oh, dude, dude, dude. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Wait. No, no, Dude. Dude. - Hey, hey, hey, hey. Ho.
- Dude, dude. No, no, no. - Ho.
No, no, no. Uh, we-we-we believe you.
It... You know, I thought I'd be, like, pissing my pants
or something, and...
I am dry as the Sahara, bro.
Yeah. You got to look at it from our shoes, here.
I mean, how do we know you're the Antichrist?
Yeah, how do we know?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Yeah, I mean, that's cool,
but it's just a tattoo on your scalp.
No. It's true. I can feel the darkness.
It's making me sick and it's coming from him.
- Oh, shit! - Holy shit!
- Hail Satan. - Hail Satan.
MUTT and JEFF: Hail Satan.
- Hail Satan. - Satan, hail. Satan, hail.
Dude, we owe everything to your old man. Do you know
how much time we wasted doing the Silicon Valley grind
- before we found our faith? - For years we worked 20 hours
a day in R&D for a company whose nondisclosure agreements
prevent us from mentioning by name.
But did Elon give us any credit?
Any opportunity for advancement?
- No! - No! The fix is in, man.
The world is run by prep school failsons and Russian oligarchs.
Everyone else just slaves away
trying to make these rich assholes richer.
- Fuck that shit. - Fuck it.
- Fuck it.
Why put in the work when there's no reward, right?
And then we learned the secret.
The politicians, the billionaires, the elite...
they all made a deal to work in his service.
- My dad. - Exactly.
That's when we took the plunge, too.
Sold our souls. Did the whole Black Mass thing.
Now, we own a robotics company worth...
Billions.
We inhale booger sugar like it's fucking oxygen,
and we bang Victoria's Secret models every Tuesday.
Fuck yeah.
Thursdays we get Ryan Reynolds.
The point is, it would be an honor to play even
a small role in bringing the cosmic skid mark
that is Planet Earth to a fiery end.
We are your servants, Michael.
Now and forever.
How can we help, even in the most microscopic of ways?
I lost someone very dear to me.
My one true ally.
You want to help? Bring her back.
You came to the right place.
Our AI tech makes HAL 9000 look like a fucking abacus.
We can whip you up
a new right-hand lickety-split, player.
You can?
Tell us about her.
Everything you can remember.
No. We owe him more than this.
She's gonna be identical, down to her final pube.
No, it's not good enough, bro.
Not when your client is the spawn of Satan.
Think.
- I'm thinking! - Think harder!
- I'm thinking! - Think faster!
We need to make her Mossad.
- Yeah! - Mossad!
Mossad!
240 terabytes of memory,
over 11,000 processor cores.
She could crush Watson at Jeopardy! and kick the asses
of every roided actor in the Expendables franchise.
She's amazing.
Why is she so cold?
Oh, that'll change with the flip of her "on" switch.
She's got a nanowire-based lithium ion battery.
Basically the Energizer Bunny's wet dream.
We fire her up, she goes on forever.
Just don't tell her she's a biomechanical humanoid.
At least not at first.
It'll send her into the mother of all existential crises.
She could end up killing herself, maybe others.
Seriously, I've seen it happen.
Not worth the headache.
And now...
Kineros Robotics proudly presents...
the Battle-Ax... uh, Miriam Mead 2.0.
Now, don't expect her to be her old self right away.
It's gonna take her time.
She needs to learn from you.
Build a rapport.
Like any relationship.
How I've missed you, Michael.
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH