Everybody dies. That's just the way it is.
I'm told I'm not supposed to argue or question or even try to understand.
I'm told a lot these days.
Ever since my life was snuffed out by a toilet seat
and I joined the ranks of the undead.
This is Rube. He's my boss. He's undead too.
He gets the list, who's to die, when and where,
which he passes on to the rest of us grim reapers.
- This is what we look like to the living. - Holy shit.
My name is George Lass. I take souls for a living.
This was my home, and this was my family.
Dad, Reggie, Mom.
They're having trouble coping.
How do you know it was her?
I only took one. Do I have to go to therapy?
- I don't think I'm supposed to be doing this. - Be patient. You're learning.
Decide whether the things you like are worth sticking around for.
If they are, you'll find a way to do this.
- What if I don't? - Then you go away.
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The average heart beats about 4,300 times an hour.
That's 800,000 times a week...
.. 9 million times a crisp fall and 2.77 billion beats in a lifetime.
Well, what is an average heart anyway? And how many beats do broken hearts get?
If I had to chose between being a heart or a brain,
I would definitely choose a heart. At least you do something.
If you're a brain, at the end of the day,
all you're really good at is settling for shitty situations.
- Here. - Thank you.
- Where did everyone go? - I don't know.
Maybe one of them had to make a sissy.
Hey, customer.
Sir, please don't buy gas here. There's another gas station down the road.
This bear should be set free. What if this was your mother in this cage?
This bear is depressed and it will die if...
- Please don't buy gas here. - Don't buy gas here, please.
- What's the name? - R Luber.
You don't have to be here with me. Do I really need a chaperone?
Yeah, actually, you do.
- How's your apartment working out? - Fine.
You need to get a slicker. Shiny rubber's the best. You can hose it down.
A trench is all right, but you gotta Scotchgard the heck out of it.
Do you really care how it's going with me?
Sure. I make my face look like this
and the concerned words come out.
So how do we know which one is Luber?
A little trick I use. Who's R Luber?
Slick.
Who are you?
Northwest Association for the Prevention of Wild Animal Abuse.
Oh, yeah?
- You've never heard of Nwafpwaa? - Yeah.
You're doing a fine thing here. I just wanna shake your hands.
Thank you. Thank you for what you're doing.
Thank you so much. Come on.
Good job.
I get it. OK. Yeah, thanks for nothing.
You see that? People just don't care any more.
We've been here for six days. You fucking hicks just don't give a shit!
Can you get us any press?
What's with the trash bag?
- If there's anything you guys need... - Cheeseburger?
She's just kidding. Give us a call.
Shit.
- You're late. - Sorry.
You need a slicker.
Now she owns that face.
That's why you pop the soul before they die.
Am I really, really dead?
Really, really.
- Why didn't you say anything? - I thought you were into Joni.
Just to piss off my parents. I thought you were hot.
- We could have been doing it? - Yeah.
Late again, but what am I really late for?
The marketing team's latest porn recreation of Cassie, naked,
with areolas scanned from a Polaroid of Joe's wife nursing their new baby?
Frank, from E-commerce's going-away party?
Barbara's underground movement to institute casual Fridays?
One desperate attempt after another
to find something in common with someone else and then cling.
"Hey, you have ten fingers? I have ten fingers!"
"Let's be friends. We'll make rules and slogans."
"If we find someone with nine fingers, we can beat the crap out of them."
It bothered me she was in my workspace.
It bothered me more that I felt a connection for three walls
and a chair that smelled like Pine-Sol when it warmed to my body temperature.
- What are you doing? - Are you just getting in?
Looks that way.
The password's rimjob if you wanna get on.
I'm the system administrator. I don't think I need a password.
And you're late.
What kind of universe would give me the power to extract souls
but force me to keep a suck-ass job if I wanna eat?
I'm sorry. I guess I'm just still shaken up about the car accident.
My, are you hurt?
I clot fast.
- Take the rest of the day off. - Really?
- Of course. Go home. - Thank you.
Why rimjob?
It was the name of my hamster growing up.
My grandfather's cat was named Oddjob.
Wow.
I wish people were more complicated, but they're not.
Delores, am I still gonna get paid for today if I go home?
Actually...
Delores lent me her softball shirt,
which wasn't so bad except that human beings have eyeballs...
- Hey. -.. and mouths.
Are you joining the Heffalumps?
Maybe it was the uniform, but it did make me wonder...
.. what team was I on?
And always be nice to that lady at the DMV.
I said her weave looked like carpet
and my Social Security number pulls up two bankruptcies.
- See? - Don't "see" me. That shit's a major violation.
So, still loving your day job, peanut?
- I don't know. - Remind me.
Office assistant.
You got a whole Breck Girl thing happening.
I don't know what that means.
It means you got too much stuff on your face.
- Fuckable is promotable. - Anyone want tickets for a hockey game?
- Ooh, when? - 77.30 tonight.
- Duc. - Two tickets?
And a blue line and parking pass too, I think.
- Duc. - Who's Duke?
Pierrot Le Duc. Took a puck to the head last night.
- Concussive brain injury? - Asphyxiation.
Didn't have any teeth to stop the thing.
- Where did you get the tickets? - His widow.
How do you know he doesn't have any teeth?
Now, now.
Reggie, are you even ready yet?
- Take that off. - Why?
You know why.
That's the dress my sister wore to my funeral.
- I like this. - You have other clothes!
And those are my pyjamas.
Same stockings, same shoes.
I don't want to have my picture taken.
You're just lucky we're not doing this with my mother.
She used to make us practise smiling in a mirror before we left the house.
That's 'cause she doesn't like your smile.
- Did she tell you that? - Yeah, she said it was fake.
That bitch.
Oh, yeah. See, that's so pretty.
- You're gonna need a sweater. - No, I won't.
- Did you finish your homework? - No.
Oh, God.
In 8th grade, Danny Burkovtold me
that if you dropped a penny off the Empire State Building, it could kill someone.
That's how I feel about this.
It doesn't make any sense, but I still have to try it.
Going home was fucked up, but I couldn't help myself.
I didn't give a gerbil's ass about all this crap when I was alive.
Now it all seems suddenly precious.
I remember playing with this doll in the back-yard sandbox
that smelt like cat piss.
I remember inviting her to my sixth birthday party,
taking her with me to our summers in New Hampshire.
We never went to New Hampshire.
All right. Have you stand right there.
- I prefer to be here. - Sweetie, come right in here.
You look so good. Here we go, guys!
And Wheaties!
I never knew much about my sister,
but I do remember she hated math.
Hey, Reggie. Right here. Come on. Give to Monty.
Give to Monty.
Happy, everyone. Happy. Smile, Reggie. Smile.
Before I left, I needed to grab clean undies from my old bedroom.
Shit!
God bless my mom.
If she ever put a bullet through her head, it'd probably be labelled.
When my parents would go out and leave us with a baby-sitter,
I would sneak into my mom's closet, press her dresses to my face
and breath her in as close as I could.
But there's one smell I didn't realise I'd miss so much.
My own.
Georgia, will you get off your ass and give me a hand?
- Mom? - Don't let the cat out.
Reggie, those are clean. Hang 'em up.
I'll probably miss dinner.
I'm glad we spent all that money on your home office.
- It's midterms. - That Pentium whatever.
Well, just let the girls use it.
Whoops.
- She can do her homework there. - Nice save.
My cellphone's on.
Fuck.
Ah!
Reggie, would you please go get that goddamn sweater?!
You know the story of the princess and the pea?
It was based on my mom.
I think of cats, stray cats.
If you keep putting out the food, they'll keep coming back.
If thinking about your sister is painful,
then you have to decide not to.
It's up to you. I know you can do it.
- Mom? - Yes?
I didn't know if you were still there.
Do you still wear clothes?
Where do you live now?
Can I get ten fingers?
The nails.
- This is impossible. - Sap's a bitch.
Well, what am I supposed to do? Is there some kind of trick?
Do I take the tree soul and ask it to climb itself and get the guy down?
- Here. - No way.
Wow, it moved.
Oh, shit.
You throw like a girl.
Can you take tree souls? Do trees have souls?
- Don't know. - What about animals? Or rocks?
What if you try to take a soul's soul?
Don't you ever wonder about this stuff?
I asked Rube once.
Nice. He says that you just don't do it, so I don't.
I went home.
Everybody wants to go home, but that doesn't make it right.
- Nobody saw me. - It's not about them. It's about you.
It's what you see.
Swipe anything?
It's tempting to think the little jewels from our lives will bring it all back,
but they don't.
You can't go back.
Are you gonna tell Rube?
- Where's Betty? - Baby-sitting.
- I never had a baby-sitter. - Doesn't mean you didn't need one.
I'm gonna get a pet bird.
- Don't get a bird. - Why not?
They're weird. I can't relate to a bird. They're so far removed.
They've got different chromosomes, and they come from eggs.
- They've got faces. - So do cockroaches.
- What are you gonna do with a bird? - Stick it in a cage and feed it.
You should at least get one you can eat.
I'm gonna get a friend. I'm not gonna eat my friend.
They have brains the size of pistachios. It's not smart enough to be your friend.
You don't know that. I saw this special on PBS called Animal Miracles.
They did a dramatic re-enactment about a guy being robbed.
He had a parrot or a cockatiel.
That bird lost its shit when its owner was attacked.
- It opened its cage... - What use is a cage if it can open the door?
Where else would you put it? It opened up its cage and went crazy.
Pecked out the robber's eyes, scratched his face like he was Tippi Hedren.
Don't you tell me that's not friendship.
- How big was this parrot? - I don't know. Parrot-size.
A parrot can't take on a man unless that man is a big pussy.
I didn't say the parrot won.
The robber stabbed it with a fork and killed its owner.
- The bird's dead. - So why get one?
It's not about homeland security, you stupid motherfucker.
I'm gonna get a friend!
Jesus.
She wasn't the only one wanting a friend.
So what are you gonna do now?
I was kind of hoping you were gonna tell me.
You're talking to her.
I mean, 'cause if you wanna get dinner or something...
Don't take this the wrong way, but I'm not up to the bonding buddy-girl thing.
OK?
Hard to think what the wrong way to take that would be.
I don't wanna bond either. I'm just hungry.
Is that...?
The great... whatever.
Shut up.
This is Bill Bright from Route 77.
Controversy continues over the decision to put down the bear.
Animal Control has said it's a matter of policy,
but Dora's supporters contend that...
- Are you robbing me? - No, there's nothing to fucking rob.
I was dreaming about frogs.
- Real ones, or like Kermit? - Real ones.
I saw a movie about frogs.
They got pissed and ate some people on an island.
- I think it was called Frogs. - Were they bad people?
No, they littered or something.
I only like it when bad people die.
I like it when nobody dies, so I don't have to work.
- What would happen if everybody died? - What do you mean?
Like if we were the only ones left?
Oh...
You mean like if the frogs ate everyone on the planet?
Yeah.
I reckon we'd be shovelling a lot of frog shit.
Did you shovel frog shit in your dream?
No.
A frog was carrying me on his back over a river of lava.
A frog?
Yeah.
I have to go.
I've got a business meeting.
Got to get our ducks in a row, fine-tune the language.
You should do something with this place.
I've been in crack houses with more style.
- Do you need this back? - No.
Cheers.
Hello. Hi. I don't know if you got the e-mail,
but Harry F is moving to Corporate.
We're all meeting in here for cake.
I'm sure they put mind-control drugs in the water,
because I'm actually excited.
- Can you cover the phones? - Oh.
The main line will ring through to your extension, OK?
Yeah.
Little moments like that prove that there is some kind of all-powerful force
that controls everything in the universe,
and it's so bored, it'll take time out...
to orchestrate a petty letdown like that.
It's not that I even cared about the cake or the conversation.
The latest Java patch is completely kick-ass.
But standing outside all that bullshit,
I started to realise how warm and safe that bullshit might actually feel.
The sad thing is that you can't find a more original way to act out.
I don't have the television.
If you're testing me, you're gonna lose. You can set the car on fire, eat the cat.
I will not give you extra attention because you won't let go.
If there's any poetry to being a reaper,
it's in combining taking souls with making money.
If you're self-aware too, you're the Walt fucking Whitman of reapers.
When you deliver criticism, are you direct or tactful?
- I'm not telling the truth. - Tactful.
You consider yourself to be exceptionally reasonable or exceptionally kind?
Exceptionally kind.
- Well, I'm not particularly reasonable. - Fine. Kind. Me too.
Do you tend to see the trees or the forest?
- How many trees? - How many do you want?
In Chinese there's this symbol like a tree.
It means tree, but if there are two it means forest.
Uh...
Trees.
- Why, what do you see? - The forest.
How do I look? Ready?
- Swarthy. - Is that good?
- Depends if you like swarthy. - Do you like swarthy?
Not particularly.
OK.
Don't put me down as trees, OK?
OK.
Give me that damn bag!
You're an NF. You're an intuitive feeler. You trust your intuition.
You yearn for romance and prize meaningful relationships.
What?
I bet he's an intuitive thinker.
NTs are the worst.
I'll take that. Cheers!
Excuse me, Mr Dead Guy.
On an airplane, if you're seated next to someone,
do you make conversation or read a book?
One soul and $1,400 later, it was time for lunch.
They wouldn't even let me talk to a human being.
- I'm gonna change banks. - You have to press 0.
- You don't think I know to press 0? - Sometimes it's star.
Computers are gonna take over the whole world.
Never happen. Computers won't get smarter than people.
They already are.
When a computer loses it with a meter maid, no offence,
or kills itself 'cause it thinks it's too fat, then I'll believe in artificial intelligence.
This juice tastes funny.
Tastes like Fresca.
Hi.
- Know what you want? - Yeah, Banana Bonanza...
I heard you went home again.
- Wheat toast. - Big fucking mistake.
- And a glass of water. - I'm a reasonable man, George.
I'll come back.
I'm a reasonable man, George...
.. even though you flip me off.
Um...
You frustrate me. If I hear you have any contact with your old life again,
you will have a torment come down upon you that you cannot imagine.
Check, please.
I know that's supposed to scare me,
but I can't think of anything you could do
that's any worse than what's already happened.
I was only joking. I'm sorry.
- We'll take it. - Could you add a grapefruit juice?
- She's gotta go back. - And?
So you get it to go on your way out.
Has anyone got two fives?
- Could you cover me? - Yes.
This is for you.
And you.
And you. And you.
- Again? - Here you go.
You give her a ride.
They're still waiting for confirmation
that the tranquilliser used to sedate Dora has taken effect.
When that happens, the plan is to move her into that trailer,
where she will make the ride to the folding hacility.
Fuck. Sorry.
All right. Holding facility.
Go again. Chris. Ally. They're still waiting for the tranquilliser...
So... what's your guess?
How do you think it's gonna happen?
Professor in the library with the candlestick?
Brake on the truck fails, the truck runs into the gas pumps
as the antenna tower sparks the lights on the canopy.
- Is it a reaper thing to take the long shot? - I could be getting something done today.
There's a man in a cage with a barely sedated bear.
V Kostakovich.
What?
It's not impossible.
Whether that support is enough to prevent Dora from being put down
remains to be seen.
This is Bill Bright reporting from Route 77.
Got it. Nice job.
- What time is it? - You smell like garbage.
It's such a relief when I get to my name.
- It's hard to mess up Bill Bright. - You should hear my real name.
Kostakovich!
- Roll tape, roll tape. - We're rolling.
What started as a simple protest has escalated into a dangerous situation.
This is Bill Bright reporting from Route 77.
Bill...
Bill?
I know that a few hours from now
somebody will be standing in this guy's closet smelling his shirts,
trying to reconnect.
I know where that bear is going.
She's in search of the relationship all of us are try to recreate in one way...
or another.
You'd think, since I know so much about everything,
I wouldn't do what I'm about to do.
Got it.
- Yeah? - I could do this. It was no big deal.
Reapers look different to the living.
Do you want something?
How are you?
- OK. - Good.
I'm a friend of your mom's.
I like your hair like this.
What are you doing?
Get in the house. Get in the house.
I remember you.
The yard sale.
- You should leave. - Joy...
- I don't have time. - Please!
Mom!
What?
I figured I wouldn't have much time,
so I worked out the right thing to say. It was supposed to go like this.
When I was five, I had an imaginary friend named Broccoli Bee.
You took out one of your steno pads
and we wrote a story with pictures on one side and words on the other.
Georgia?
But it kind of looked more like this.
When I was five, I, um...
I, uh... uh...
I had a friend and...
I, um...
That's it. That's all that would come out.
I had lots of other things to say, but they all melted into a fine mist.
Mom, on the other hand...
You are a real fucking piece of work, aren't you?
Get the fuck outta here!
You think you can show up here and pull this kind of shit?
Know what it's like to lose a daughter? Get your skanky ass outta here!
That's right! You run, bitch! Run!
Thanks.
Mm-hm.
Are you gonna tell him?
If you don't.
I know the menu like my phone number.
I still have to read it to know what I want.
Can I get a number 6?
Want this?
I went home again.
Pass me a napkin.
You OK?
You lose anything?
Memories?
I don't know.
I tried to tell my mom a story and...
.. now I can't even remember what it was.
It's cruel and simple.
The more I held onto my life, the less there was to hold onto.
So...
.. my whole life, everything...
.. all I get to keep are thoughts and memories?
It's all we ever had, peanut.
I'll see you in the morning?
Yeah.
At the end of the day, all you have are your experiences.
I spent so much of my life avoiding experiences,
I didn't have much to lose.
I was just thinking that maybe I'd done the whole thing wrong,
when breakfast came.
Subtitles: Sally Lewis ww. broadcasttext. com
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