Provided by explosiveskull https://twitter.com/kaboomskull
Wakey-wakey! Heads-up.
Shoes. Pants.
Low bridge! Shirt.
On your left. I'll take that.
Block. Slap.
Knife switch.
Rip him. Flip him.
OK. Coffee, anyone?
Can you imagine waking up every day
with some random asshole like Mr Good Morning here
trying to hack you up with a fucking machete?
Seriously.
Arggh!
This might have been fun for a while.
You're fucking dead!
Once the shock wore off,
once I realised what the hell was happening,
after nearly 140 times,
it just fucking got annoying
and I want it to stop.
But I know it won't.
You know how people say,
"Oh, I can do that with my eyes closed,"
and you always think they sound like assholes?
But... whatever.
Watch.
Sorry, pal! They think you're me!
As many times as I've seen this happen to my apartment,
I still can't help but think, "Fuck! Man, this is a lease."
The landlord is already an asshole anyway
and I'm never, ever getting my security deposit back.
It wasn't always like this.
I was happy once. I really was.
I had a woman that I loved, but...
..now I'm just pissed off.
Ugh!
Ah, shit. Gotta jump.
Arggh!
Ow!
I missed this truck exactly 22 times before.
You know how it feels
falling four storeys to the street below?
It fucking hurts is how it feels.
Mr Man's-Man in the Challenger here
screams at date-rape volume every single time.
- I'm being carjacked! - "I'm being carjacked!"
Yes, you are.
The next set of assholes trying to kill me are in that minivan.
Could you get through this traffic, please?
- Don't tell me how to drive. - I'm not telling you...
Esmerelda the chauffeur and Pam.
You love to argue.
I have no fucking idea
if those are their real names
because I never stop to say hello.
Now, after the bus, it's pretty much smooth sailing and I can...
Wait a second. Did I... Oh, shit.
Did I get to the bus yet?
Nope.
Oh, sweet Jesus!
God?
Don't feel bad for me.
This kinda shit happens every day.
I used to complain that every day felt the same
and then May 9th came,
and now every day IS the same.
Ugh, same wake-up scream,
same machete-wielding asshole,
same everything, with slight variations.
Ohh!
Mother... Ugh!
Oh...
One thing that never changes...
..is I die
every single day.
I die.
Here's a little highlight reel.
Arggh!
Now, truth be told,
I don't even know why they want to kill me,
or what I've done to deserve getting killed,
but there's a shit-ton of 'em.
You've met Pam.
She did that to me 14 times
before I finally got her timing down.
This little angel-faced asshole is known as Guan Yin.
How do I know her name?
I am Guan Yin.
And Guan Yin has done this.
Her name means "Goddess of Mercy".
I think she digs irony.
I call this little cocky motherfucker Kaboom.
What's up, pretty boy?
You fucking weirdo dwarf. What are you doing?
Oh, I don't like that attitude.
I've given them all nicknames - Pam, Smiley, the German Twins,
Roy Number Two, who happens to be
some asshole who looks exactly like me.
Now, sometimes I manage to kill them.
But it doesn't matter.
They always find me
and eventually they take me out.
I am Guan Yin.
And Guan Yin has done this.
I don't know how this is possible
or why I keep repeating the same day.
I've never had time to figure it out.
It's a shit show from the second I open my eyes.
Jemma, the only woman I've ever loved
and the one person who has the answers I'm looking for.
Hello.
Uh, I'm looking for Dr Jemma Wells.
Who's this?
This is her hus... Um, her boyfriend Roy.
Ah, Captain Roy Pulver, he of Delta Force fame.
Who's this?
This is Colonel Clive Ventor.
- Jemma's boss. - Until recently.
Is she around?
Well, no, unfortunately she's not.
Oh, do you know when she'll be back?
Now, that is more of a cosmic question
that I'd have to hand over to a higher power.
Huh?
She's dead.
What?
Hate to be the bearer of bad news,
but Miss Wells took a nasty spill
and snapped her neck last night.
An accident in the lab, working late,
likely very fatigued.
No.
Can I ask where you are?
- Eins... - Zwei...
That was no fucking accident.
Drei!
Why is she dead? Who killed her?
I have never lived long enough to find out.
OK, so where were we?
Oh, yeah, the bus.
Fuck!
Oh, honey, we got ourselves a cowboy.
I think I'm gonna have to get serious here.
The fuck?
Fuck me!
Oh! Fuck!
Nah, I think they deserved it.
Hey, Roy!
Hey, Jake.
Whoa. You look like death taking a dump.
- What happened to you? - I just woke up wrong.
- I'm fine, Jake. - Alright.
Happens all the time.
Can I get a large bottle of that baijiu, please?
You know what, Jake?
- Make it two large bottles. - Two! Jesus Christ.
Hear ye, hear ye, Sir Osis of Liver!
I'm just kidding.
Alcoholics Unanimous, am I right?
You only got today, right, Jake?
'Cause tomorrow isn't guaranteed.
Fuckin'-A, pal. Fuckin'-A.
This kid is all about the shutdown.
How can you drink like that?
Ohh!
How can you not?
You know, a lot of expert internal security pundits -
and, mind you, I'm one of them -
think that the next 9/11 will target our distilled spirits.
Now, you have got a country with a rate of alcoholism
and binge drinking somewhere in the 38th percentile,
so should you wipe out en masse...
This douchebag's named Dave.
Dave is a security specialist for some private firm
and it doesn't matter what my answer is
to him asking, "How can you drink like that?"
he always launches into this exact same fucking speech.
I know what he's gonna say word for word.
I know everything that's gonna happen
from the second I walk in.
At 11:05, this famous
Chinese swordfighter comes in.
She was a 12-time world champion.
Holy shit! Dai Feng.
Roy, you know she's one of the most famous...
Wudang Chinese sword masters?
12-time... - World champion.
- Have I told you about her? - A hundred times.
- Really? I don't remember. - I do.
Pedro, clear a table for Sifu Feng.
Hi. Please sit.
Sifu Feng here is the reason I have to bust my ass
to get to the bar every day.
If I get here any later than 11:00,
she takes the last seat at the bar.
Oh, shit.
She just stared at me.
Have you ever been with a woman?
Excuse me?
Have you ever been with a woman?
Think I'm catching a fish, if you know what I mean.
I think you have a better chance
of growing a penis on your forehead, Jake.
At around noon...
OK, I... I feel a little bit bad about this next thing.
I just love seeing him wipe out.
I'm sorry. I know I should probably warn him.
But it's just so fucking funny
and it's not like I got a lot to laugh about these days.
You can't file workman's comp, Pedro!
No-one will believe you!
At 12:20, Dave the pantload finally goes back to work.
You better hope the terrorists don't decide
to start poisoning the world's baijiu supply, Roy!
But not before delivering that little gut-buster.
- Too much. - Sit down, Dave.
Excuse me?
I wanna tell you a story.
Whoa! OK, I'm bombed today.
Little twist on the war story.
I start talking about the other times I've died
when I've had too much to drink.
You ever been shot in the face, Dave?
Huh?
I was shot in the face.
And a funny thing happened to me right before I died.
This was a while back now.
I think it was a .45 ACP round.
Enters here, clean.
Bullet winds up in my mouth, almost intact,
and I remember tasting steak.
Yeah, like a really, really good rib eye.
Mmm!
And it wasn't only until much later
when I was alive again
I said, "Shit...
"That was my tongue being cooked by the heat of the bullet."
That's what I tasted, my tongue.
You believe that shit? That's fucking wild.
That is a true story, Dave.
Good stuff, buddy.
Ever thought about getting a sober coach?
Copy that.
At exactly 12:47...
Let me get to that in a second.
But say a quarter till,
I've usually got a really, really good buzz
and I'm feeling fucking good.
You see, as long as I make it to this bar,
I can drink until they find me.
I can get absolutely shit-faced...
..and not feel a thing.
12:47 pm.
I've never, not once,
made it a minute past this point.
Why do I let it happen?
Why not?
'Cause outside of this bar,
no matter what direction I run and no matter how hard I fight,
I have never lived past 12:47 pm.
They always get me.
Bunch of assholes I've never met
killing me for reasons that remain a mystery.
And she's dead, my girl.
Gone in a moment further back than I can ever go,
stuck here in the death loop of a never-ending day.
I know I can't keep drinking my way through it...
..not when every day ends like this.
I need a plan now. I need to make somebody pay.
They have an army.
All I have is time.
Yesterday was months ago.
Great.
Yep, that's good.
Guys, um, can you give me a second, please?
Sure.
My God, woman.
Look at you.
- Hi. - Hey.
So have you developed
some allergic reaction to the phones?
No, no, I just got back.
My cell phone was shut off,
and I didn't get a chance to square away my landline, so...
- So they shut that off too? - Eh, yeah.
I mean, it's really just luck
that you got in touch with me at all.
Oh, yeah! Luck, yeah.
The amount of luck it took to find you in the bar
at the bottom of your apartment building.
What were the odds?
Well, hello there, sarcasm. How you been, stranger?
Haven't heard from you in a while.
What's that?
I brought a résumé.
But the printer I used was kind of low on ink
so the Delta Force section is hard to read.
Shh.
- Is that gonna hurt my chances? - Ehh.
- Come here. - Hmm?
They, uh, wear uniforms here.
- Security, so... - Oh, very cool, yeah.
- So I need to just... - I mean, it's not those...
Whoa!
Those maroon things, like mall security?
'Cause I can't rock that look.
Maroon? Like... my dress?
No, not like your dress because that would be sexy.
- No, I'm just saying. - Fine.
Anyway, I...
What's the salary here anyway?
Have any idea?
And is there a medical copay?
Because I have a pre-existing,
you know, with the combat stuff.
Hey, what do you do here? It looks really... big.
Been working on it a while?
Just long enough, I hope.
What is that thing anyway?
That's five years' worth of sleepless nights
and round-the-clock research.
And it means more to me than you can possibly imagine.
What does it do?
- What's it do? - Mm.
Unmakes all of time and space...
..and destroys the planet in its entirety, if improperly used.
No shit.
Wait. Like, doomsday destroy?
Well, you must
be really stressed!
Mm-hm.
Wow. Look at Joe.
Jesus, he's getting so big, Jemma.
Hey, you mind if I swap this out?
- Huh? - This... this picture.
You got another one of these?
Oh, yeah, sure, you can take it. What's your weight?
Uh...
I'm doing... I'm doing a special paleo thing, so it's, like, 175.
Still drinking?
- Yeah. - I'll put 180.
180.
Have you thought about telling him?
It would mean a lot to me if we could tell him, Jemma.
Honestly, what would he gain?
You've been absent most of his life.
Why do you gotta say it like that,
like it wouldn't be worth it
if I got to know him now, you know?
My work took me away from you guys.
- Your work? - Yeah.
Your work?
You loved that life a lot more
than you loved the idea of sharing one with us.
Getting shot at is way more exciting
than diapers and minivans.
Right, right, right, there's your go-to argument,
and you know that.
I'm just an asshole who didn't wanna stick around, right?
What does it matter anymore, Roy?
I mean, we've both moved on, we've made our decision,
and Joe adores you anyway.
- He adores me? - Yeah.
Well, what'd he say about me?
What do you want, Roy?
I lost you, OK?
I know that I blew it. I made my peace with it.
Please don't let that happen with my son.
That's all I'm asking.
He's our boy, Jemma.
- Dr Wells. - Just a minute.
Oh, sorry, Brett.
Uh, this is Roy. Roy, Brett.
Brett's head of security here at Dynow.
Your office is in a restricted area, Dr Wells,
and is therefore off-limits.
I made it clear to the colonel
that I would accept visitors when I deemed it appropriate.
I was just dropping off my résumé, big guy.
It's all good.
Well, we're not hiring right now, Captain Pulver.
Tell him I'll be there in a moment.
The colonel's waiting.
What a dick.
I thought you said you were hiring.
They are. We are.
I am.
What are you talking about?
It's a very specific security detail.
Black bag stuff, like, covert?
Beyond.
Really?
When do I start?
Sooner than you think.
I read the man's résumé and I see cause for concern.
He doesn't look like much.
Well, no-one ever notices the housefly
till he fucks up a good bowl of soup, Brett.
There's something I don't like about him.
He has that... trait.
What trait is that?
The overachiever who makes up
for a lack of talent with hustle.
The guy in the playground I grew up hating.
Vet his service history.
If it's accurate, I want him tracked and monitored.
If he becomes problematic, we'll deal with him.
And, uh, reach outside the normal ranks -
no-one that could connect back to us.
The more random the assets, the better.
Find some real freaks.
OK, I'm gonna get out of here,
grab a little vino, maybe some...
- Just let me fix your hair. - Ow, ow, Jemma!
I'm bleeding.
Did you get my birthday present, Roy?
What are you doing here?
- You're acting so weird. - Did you get it, the present?
- I sent it to you. - I don't know.
- I haven't checked. - Well, please do.
I sent it a few days ago.
I will. Of course I will.
Dr Wells, could I see you for a moment?
I'm going to the hospital first.
Be there in a moment, Colonel.
You drew blood.
Listen to me now, Roy.
OK, look, I know we haven't seen much of each other lately,
and I know we've gone down very different paths.
I know, but when I was...
It's important you listen! Just listen!
Alright, you talk, you talk, you talk.
OK. I've forgotten how trying this can be.
OK. Now, I see a lot of you in Joe. I do.
His determination,
his willingness to succeed no matter what.
He has some of your best qualities.
He does.
But he also has your selfishness
and your ability to just disappear when it suits...
Just when I thought we were turning a corner.
- ..and run from responsibility. - OK, alright.
What do you want from me? Just tell me, just tell me.
I want the man I fell in love with a long time ago,
the one who gave me a son,
the strong, confident version of you,
not the Roy who's out every night getting hammered
and banging a different bimbo.
Remember this - Osiris.
- Osiris. - OK.
Whoa.
Look. It's Roid and Rage.
You know, carbohydrates are not your friend, fellas.
Dr Wells, are you well?
Yes.
Does cigar smoke bother you?
No, not at all.
The Spindle.
Well, we're experiencing a minor delay at the moment.
Define 'minor'.
A week, two weeks at the most.
And why?
R&D is never an exact science.
And yet that's exactly what we're after - exact science.
Your, uh, friend, Captain Pulver.
Yes, he dropped off a résumé.
And whatever possessed him?
Well, I may have mentioned, in passing,
the military presence here at the lab.
And whatever possessed you?
The security protocols of this facility
should not be the subject of pillow talk.
I can assure you they're not.
Roy and I are not in...
You are the mother of his child, no?
Huh.
Please, please, sit down. Make yourself comfortable.
I don't want this to seem like an interrogation.
I'm not one for long stories.
I'm someone who's always appreciated brevity in any form.
The shorter, the better.
However, I do have one story that I've told and retold,
and it's a story that I would like to share with you now,
if you'll indulge me.
Oh. I happen to like long stories.
Well, good. Then we're both in luck.
So, Burma 1979.
I was doing skunk work for the CIA,
smuggling enough opium into the country
to backstop a very bloody military coup
that we would eventually stage a decade later.
This is all mostly declassified, mostly.
At any rate, I find myself in the jungle outside Rangoon,
sniping soldiers from the KNU Liberation Front
in a three-day running firefight
that had cost me my entire team.
So there I am, on the verge of being overrun
by a bunch of machete-wielding rebels
who have terrible attitudes and even worse hygiene,
and all I have is a Remington Buckmaster with a shot-out scope
and 36 sleepless hours in which to squeeze out a win.
Huh!
And then I hear it.
This piercing squeal,
like a steam whistle.
A wild boar.
Make you piss your pants.
The sound alone was enough to make the rebels scatter.
No-one wants to fuck with the tusks.
So now this son of a bitch gets a sniff of me
and comes at me straightaway.
Now, I'd rather put a bullet in 10 men than kill an animal,
but before I'm even presented with the do-or-die of it all,
an 18-foot Burmese python comes down from a banyan tree
and wraps up this raging hog like a Christmas ham.
Huh! I've never seen anything like it.
And for the next few hours, I watch in wonder
as this snake slowly suffocates and devours this pig.
It was oddly quiet so I could hear everything,
the boar's bones snapping,
the bellows-like wheeze as its lungs collapsed
that made it sound like the snake was laughing.
It remains the most awe-inspiring
act of violence I have ever seen.
But what struck me most,
even as the python extended its jaws
a full two feet to devour its prey...
..was the calm and calculation in its eyes.
And it wasn't till later
when it finally moved its midsection,
now distended with the outline of that boar,
that I saw a dozen eggs.
Python eggs.
That boar was about to trample its nest.
So what I had first perceived as an act of aggression
was actually an act of love.
The snake killing the boar not out of malice,
but out of necessity
to prevent its future from being obliterated.
Hmm.
I enjoyed that story.
Oh, and I enjoy telling it. I also thought it apt.
How so?
No more visitors to the lab.
No ex-boyfriends, old flames,
or shadowy figures from the past.
If there's a delay in the work,
I want to be apprised of it posthaste, yes?
Of course.
Thank you, Doctor. That's wonderful.
Do watch your step.
You want another one?
Mm, another one of what?
Hey?
You are sweet.
So how long have you two known each other?
Oh, we only met today.
He is my newest best friend.
Yes, I am.
Alice is a dental hygienist.
Which is weird 'cause I totally hate teeth.
I mean, just the texture of them grosses me out.
Then a career in dentistry seems...
Like the last thing I should be doing?
Yeah, I know, I know.
But, you know, I'm... I'm all about a challenge.
I like to, like, push myself out of my comfort zone.
It's the only way to grow, really.
So true.
So pretty. Isn't he pretty?
Mmm.
How long have you guys known each other?
Oh, Gabrielle?
For as long as I've been drinking in this bar.
Since he got back from overseas.
Oh, danger! Do tell.
Oh, ladies, there's really almost nothing to tell.
Then tell us almost nothing.
Mm! But can you wait?
'Cause... I gotta pee.
Oh, my God. Hold that. I'll be right back.
You should take her home, Roy.
You should take her home.
You're about to ask,
"Why not take you home too, Gabrielle?"
And I'll say...
.. "Maybe another night."
I'm starting to wear you down.
We'd have fun, Roy, but we'll never be in love.
Oh, love!
- No. - Why?
- Yeah.
Because you're still in love...
..with someone else.
It's in your eyes.
In the sadness I see there.
There is a woman you long for, but it's not me.
And it's not our lovely hygienist.
Bar, hello. Yeah.
It's for you.
Who the hell's calling me now?
I don't know.
Hello?
Roy, can you hear me?
Jemma? What...
Are you still at the lab? It's almost 3 am.
Jemma, you OK?
- You alright? - Yeah, I'm fine, but...
What's going on? Listen...
Yeah, listen to me.
I think I might have to do something drastic,
and if anything happens,
promise me you'll do what you do...
I can't... I can't hear you.
I'm gonna need your help.
Wait, wait. What's going on? Are you OK?
I can't explain it right now.
But you wouldn't understand anyway.
Hey, I think I lost you.
Jemma, call me back, OK?
Who was that?
It was my ex and she was...
She sounded pretty worked up.
It seems our dear doctor has gone rogue.
Find her.
What did I miss?
Oh, hi.
Well, you know, we were talking about
the hottest people on the planet.
- Naturally, your name came up. - Oh!
I should've tried to call Jemma back,
but I was drunk and horny and I didn't give a shit.
I didn't know how important it was.
I didn't know it would be the last time
that I'd ever hear her voice.
Some things you can't redo.
And some things you're forced to do over and over again.
I know this whole thing leads back to her.
I just have no idea what this whole thing actually is.
Did you get my birthday present, Roy?
Did you get it, the present?
I don't know. I haven't checked.
Well, please do. I sent it a few days ago.
Remember this - Osiris.
"Happy birthday, Roy!
"May you always live your life forward
"and always remember, time waits for no man.
"XOX..."
Ohh!
Fuck me!
Let's do that again.
I'm being carjacked!
Fuck!
Come on, come on. Let's go!
Dude, die already. Goddamn it.
He's in my way!
About fucking time.
- I'm being...! - Arggh!
Don't read and drive, moron.
Hah!
How did I never notice this?
Shit. I missed the exit to the Chinese restaurant
and the last time I went anywhere else,
it ended up really bad.
I call this guy Smiley, for obvious reasons.
At least getting shot is simple, straightforward stuff.
Whoo-hoo! Yeah, get some!
Who the hell thinks up shit like this?
Whoo-hoo! Get some!
All I've been doing is running from my life this entire time.
Now I've got my first real clue
to what the fuck might be happening to me.
All I need now is a little ceasefire and somewhere quiet
where I can get some reading done.
"Osiris and Isis were devoted husband and wife."
Blah, blah.
"She was an Egyptian high priestess,
"ideal mother and wife,
"protector of the dead,
"skilled in all magical spells
"for transport through the afterlife and beyond."
"Osiris was eventually dismembered into 14 parts
"and scattered across Egypt by his enemy."
What the fuck kind of birthday present is this?
Happy birthday, Roy.
May you always live your life forward.
And remember, time waits for no man.
Joe.
What the hell's he doing?
Shit.
He doesn't know his mom is gone and he's all alone now...
..that I'm the only family he has left.
How you doing, pal?
$10 entry, brojam.
$5 per round, double elimination.
What, uh... what do you got going here?
Pop-up eSport tourney.
- What is that? - Competitive video gaming.
We do mostly retro '80s-based side-scrollers -
'Double Dragon', 'Altered Beast', 'Street Fighter'.
We're purists, bro,
dedicated to video game's golden age.
Analog or death. 8-bit is the shit.
How old are you?
The big 4-1. Life creeps up.
- 41? - Yeah.
You got a son here somewhere?
I'm childless by choice, bro.
Whose choice?
Keep it.
Joe, yo! Hey.
Hey, bud.
Roy, hey. What's up?
Look at you! You shot way up, huh?
I think you were, like, maybe yea high
the last time I saw you.
- I didn't know you were a gamer. - Oh, I am not a gamer.
Then what are you doing here?
Actually, I was gonna ask you the same question, buddy.
Isn't it a school day?
I ditched.
Come on, buddy. You can do better than this.
Well, I couldn't not come.
These are, like, my favourite vintage video games,
and Mom would be really mad if she knew I was here.
Mom would be really mad. I'll tell you what.
I won't rat you out if you tell me one thing.
OK.
What did you buy
from that boy upstairs, the older boy?
I didn't buy anything.
Joe, I saw you.
- Oh! - "Oh!"
It's an RPG card game. I traded it with that kid.
You can be, like, all these different assassins
and mercenaries and stuff.
- It's really cool. - I bet it is.
So this is what you got from him?
Mm-hm. What, did you think I was buying drugs or something?
Or something.
I just turned 11. I can't do that stuff.
You can't do that stuff ever, pal, OK?
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Alright. Let's go get some lunch.
We can come back, OK? I wanna talk to you.
- OK. - Alright?
The screen is broken anyway.
Oh, pfft. Piece of junk. Come on.
- You hungry, bud? - Yeah.
Yeah? What's your favourite food?
- Pizza. - Pizza?
- Mm-hm. - We can get some pizza.
- What about sushi? - I don't like sushi.
- You don't? - No.
How come?
- 'Cause it's sushi. - Oh, that makes sense.
I have to tell him now,
tell him that his mother is gone, tell him that...
..he's never gonna see her again, tell him that...
You know, Mom says you're a bad-ass.
A bad-ass? She says that?
Well, she doesn't use that word,
but she says you're, like, a SEAL team guy or something,
like, a soldier.
Mom talks about me?
Yeah, she mentions you a lot.
A lot?
Hey, are you like that guy, the one from 'Taken',
who has a "particular set of skills"?
- Liam Neeson? - Yeah.
No. He's kind of a fake tough guy.
- But, yeah, I'm the real guy. - Really?
I'm not kidding you. That's me.
Oh, that's so cool.
Hey, Joe.
I gotta tell you something, bud,
and it's gonna be pretty hard to hear, OK?
I don't have an easy way to say this.
12:50.
Three minutes longer than I've ever lived.
How?
The inside is all metal.
Then I went below ground.
They're tracking me.
What did you wanna tell me, Roy?
Joe...
..I'm your father.
In all that fear, I saw my son's love for me
for a split second
and it was beautiful.
Please, please let this death be the last.
Motherfucker!
- How are you tracking me? - Oh! Fuck you!
Fuck me? Where's the device?!
- Up your ass! - Oh, you're full of ideas.
Ugh!
Fuck off.
OK, fuck off.
Hey, buddy!
OK. When you gotta go, you gotta go.
Where's this tracker?
I know it's here.
Where is this thing?
Fuck...
Pedro, you wanna help me look?
And then I said,
"I will see your counterintelligence expert
"and raise you
"a counter-surveillance specialist, my friend."
You should have seen the look on his face.
Dude, you're crazy!
- Dave. - Hey, Roy.
Hey. Sorry to interrupt.
No, I was just telling Chef Jake about this loudmouth...
Got it, great. Dave, you know anything about tracking devices?
I don't know anything about that kind of thing, Roy.
I know everything about that kind of thing! Hah!
What are we talking? Traditional transponder?
The kind you put on a person.
A body-based or an implantable device?
What's better if you don't want the person
to know they're being tracked?
Well, an implantable version is loads more reliable.
A body-based device would be attached to clothing...
Where do you implant it? Where would you do it?
Most people think subcutaneously,
just underneath the skin...
Dave, where would you put it?
- Oh, you mean me personally? - You personally.
Ha-ha! A Dave special.
- What is that stupid face, Dave? - Hm?
Yeah, yeah.
He gets it. The teeth, Roy. The teeth!
Ideally, a molar.
You gotta be shitting me.
You look so handsome with the mask on.
You have nothing to worry about.
Just keep breathing deeply.
It'll all be over soon.
So your mouth acts as a natural transmitter.
- Dave? - Yes?
Would you be able to look at a tooth
and detect if there was a tracking device in it?
I mean, not while it's inside someone's mouth.
If that tooth were removed, I could possibly check it out.
Jake, large bottle of baijiu and a pair of pliers now.
No, no, no!
Oh, goddamn this shit!
Don't worry, Dave. It'll grow back.
Have you lost your mind?! No, you need some damn help!
You're being so helpful. What do you think?
- No. - You sure?
- I'm positive! - What time is it?
- Shit. It is 12:45. - Oh, shit. We got two minutes.
No, it's time for you to stop snatching
your damn teeth out of your mouth!
Are you crazy?
Oh, fuck this shit!
Oh, no, no, no! Oh, God!
Shit! I should've stayed my black ass home.
- Look! - Oh, no! No!
Look!
- Oh, my God. - Yeah? What?
Yeah, that tooth, mm-hm.
There's an irregularity in that tooth.
- There is? - Yeah.
Oh, my God. I would need to see inside of it.
- Roy? - Yeah.
- Carefully, OK? - Yeah.
Careful.
No! No! That's not careful!
Ohh!
You son of a bitch.
- Oh, my God. Roy? - Uh-huh?
Someone paid a lot of money to keep track of you.
- They did? - Yeah.
A whole lot. I've never...
I'll see you soon, Dave.
Who did it?! Who put the tracker in my mouth?
- Who did it? - A guy called Brett.
Mr Frat Boy, fake-baked, bald,
400-pound, I-dye-my-beard-hair black
douchebag head of Dynow security.
Alright.
I'm gonna punch a giant fucking hole in his chest.
- What's up, dog? - Jake.
I need a large bottle of baijiu and a pair of pliers now.
I have died 144 times as of today.
But this particular day,
I finally get to do something about it.
Drop it.
What, the tooth?
No, not the tooth.
I'm not dropping it.
Well, it drops or you drop.
This is a custom handmade Walther PPK
that cost me nearly half a million dollars at auction.
You bought a handgun for half a million dollars?
And had my personal pistolsmith fit it
with a vintage SD-22 SpielWaffen suppressor,
of which there are six in the world,
for an additional $250,000.
750,000 bucks?
Correct.
Why in the fuck, Pam, would you ever do something like that?
Pam?
Well, I never got your name so I just call you Pam.
- We've met? - Many, many times, in passing.
Let me see it.
Slow.
Hold it by the trigger guard.
Handle it as if it were porcelain, please.
Soft as a whisper.
A.H.?
Adolf, Hitler.
Qué?
It was a personal gift from Carl Walther.
Hitler kept it in his desk in Munich.
You've been killing me
with fuckin' Hitler's gun this whole time?
It was stolen by an American serviceman in 1945.
- Jesus, what is wrong with you? - Fast-forward to present day...
I didn't think this could get any worse.
- ..a very pretty penny. - And it has.
- Who sent you? - Wouldn't you like to know.
- Hint, hint? - Never.
Are you gonna kill me now?
No, Pam, I'm gonna shoot you.
That's for the Jews.
Those too.
Oh, get some! Come on, boy!
Get some!
Jemma put me here on purpose.
I don't know how, I don't know why.
But there's gotta be a good reason.
Shit, there's gotta be a great one.
Look.
You lost your phone, little fella.
But she's gone.
I can't get back far enough to reach her,
so none of this matters now.
There's only one real piece of business left.
Revenge.
Things are getting warm now.
Did you eliminate the asset?
You mean assets, plural.
- Marshall? - Hello, Brett.
Don't ask who this is 'cause you know exactly who it is.
- Where's Marshall? - Who's that, bomb boy?
The one I call Kaboom?
Well, he's at a big company barbecue at the moment.
We're only missing two members -
you and the shithead calling the shots.
You assume there's someone above me.
You're a lapdog, pal, so there's gotta be a leash.
I want who's holding it.
I want who killed Jemma.
I think it's Ventor.
Well, you know where we are, hotshot.
Yeah, and I know how to get there.
I'll see you in a minute, motherfucker.
I'm guessing the big boss man has a penthouse view,
but I'm about sick to death of all the sneaky, stealth,
behind-the-scenes bullshit.
Let's go old-school
and just kick the fucking front door down.
That was a good plan.
I'm gonna gouge his eyes out.
Halt! Halt! Halt!
Fall back!
I can do this all day, dick.
Hello, Roy Number Two.
Goodbye, Roy Number Two.
Go ahead.
Yeah, go ahead.
Roy Number Two was unarmed,
and I'm positive I'm not getting a weapon past these guys.
Sir?
Oh, yeah, sorry.
Got the... card here.
Just gonna...
Access denied.
Oh, that's, uh...
It must be me.
- What's up? - Access denied.
- Hi, Roy. - Ugh!
So do I do a Butch and Sundance
blaze-of-glory bit here?
Nah.
Never say die.
That was weird.
You big motherfucker!
Oh, fuck.
Arggh!
Hello, handsome!
You cut my head off a couple dozen times.
Someone's been the busiest little beaver.
What are you gonna do with that?
I was thinking about fucking you up.
You remember in 'Raiders', that asshole
who was twirling a sword around and around,
thinking he was all cool and shit?
Indy just shot him 'cause he was exhausted, impatient,
and just couldn't take the bullshit anymore.
- You remember that? - Yeah.
- Fuck! - Huh!
Arggh!
Something you might not know
about getting killed with a sword -
with the exception of attempt number 15,
getting killed with a sword hurts worse than a gunshot.
Another lesser known fact about swords.
They hurt a hell of a lot more coming out.
Fun fact.
Harrison Ford had the shits
and that's why he shot that guy.
I am Guan Yin.
And Guan Yin has done this.
- Hyah! - Ooh!
I am Guan Yin.
And Guan Yin has done this.
I am Guan Yin.
And Guan Yin has done this.
I'm Guan Yin and I have done this.
And this isn't even the worst part.
This is.
Ventor.
The man who killed Jemma.
The same bozo that's had me killed 150 fucking times.
Captain, as first impressions go,
this is truly stand-out stuff.
How you were able to dispatch the elite level
of high-speed professionals we threw at you
is really remarkable.
You should be pleased with the effort
regardless of its outcome.
As someone who bears the same fraternal scars of battle,
I hope that this defeat, however bitter,
holds some solace.
He must have that bullshit memorised
because it's word-for-fucking-word
and the same every single fucking time.
In all the men I've watched die and laid to rest,
and there are multitudes,
I see a singularity.
It's in the eyes.
Their gaze is identical in this moment.
Remorse, regret.
"What could I have done?
"What didn't I do?"
All our best intentions left to bleed out with the rest of us.
But what if we could remake our world whole
and erase our mistakes?
What if the ability to rewrite history was real?
Adolf Hitler, Pearl Harbor...
Wait a minute, wait a minute.
I've never lived past this point
so all this crap is new.
..in whose hands would you entrust a tool
as powerful as the Osiris Spindle?
I have your answer, Captain.
Mine.
A man brought to heel by the brunt of human misery,
a man who understands, as you do, the horrors of war.
Who better to oversee and implement such a tool?
Exactly.
I am sorry about Dr Wells.
She took us as far as her flawed ideology allowed her.
Sweet girl.
Blood on your hands
is what you wanted when you came here, Captain,
and blood is what you have.
Just not mine.
Oh! That's really sharp.
There's not even any blood on it. Is it a katana?
Katana? That's Japanese. It's a Chinese sword.
Let's not make this about race. It's a sword.
Brett, um, just...
I know three things now.
One - I'm gonna fuck that guy up next time I see him.
Two - whatever I'm stuck in is called the Osiris Spindle.
And three - Ventor has no idea that it's working.
But somehow Jemma put me inside this thing
and started it up, but why?
"She resurrected her dead husband Osiris.
"Osiris became lord of the dead...
"..and the afterlife."
I'm Osiris.
Jemma put me in the Spindle to stop them,
to stop Ventor.
She needs me to keep repeating this day until I do.
She had... she had faith.
Son of a bitch. She still believed in me.
She knew I could beat him.
Hi.
I need to know how to fight with a sword.
I have no idea what you just said.
Oh... OK.
I need to learn how to fight with a sword.
There is something
intriguing about you that I like.
I'm flying home to Shanghai in the morning.
I would only have a day.
I think we can get a lot done in a day.
I'm a beginner, but I'm a quick learner.
It is the one who wields it that makes it a weapon, Roy.
That sword is no more an extension of you
than a set of car keys.
I've had some training, but I'm willing to work hard.
In lesser hands,
the jian blade is just a flimsy piece of forged steel.
But within the most determined grip
and under the keenest eyes,
it becomes a weapon of annihilation.
I've had a very good teacher, but I need to learn more.
Hello, handsome.
Are you surrendering?
Mmm.
Hmm-hmm-hmm.
You're not really gonna fight me with a sword, are you?
I do like your confidence.
Normally, I'm a little more chatty.
I do have one thing to say.
I think it'll wait.
Shit's about to get steel.
Huh!
Motherfucker.
Hmm.
No!
Ugh...
Ohh!
What I wanted to say was
I am Roy and Roy has done this.
Ugh!
Wha... Wow.
Brett?
I smell muffins. Do you smell muffins?
Ugh!
I'll just, uh, walk it off.
Now I'm blind.
Looks like a 400-pound unicorn.
You slippery son of a bi...
You gonna go for that gun?
I am not.
- Do you know why? - No.
Because I'm gonna get great satisfaction
beating the shit out of you.
Arggh!
How? How?
How do you think?
The Spindle. She activated it.
Jemma. She put me inside, pal.
She put me inside to stop you.
- Then you killed her... - Ow!
..'cause she knew what you were, Ventor.
A wannabe dictator bent on a worldwide redo.
Fucking liberals.
Before she launched her little Hail Mary,
did she bother to mention that the Spindle reaction,
if maintained too long, could destroy the entire planet?
Don't worry, dickhead, the world comes to an end,
you won't be around to see it.
The Spindle gives us the power of God
to re-create our whole world, minus the tragedy.
Adolf Hitler, 9/11...
Shut up with this bullshit speech.
The past is the past, Ventor.
It's designed to be left behind.
We live and we learn from it.
And this from an absentee husband and failed father.
I would've thought you'd have
more than a passing interest in redoing things.
What about your son?
- My son? - Young Joe, isn't it?
If you've come all this way to kill me,
well, then who's saving him?
I never thought Joe would be in danger.
I never thought in a million years
that they'd ever target him.
I'll kill Ventor and every one of those motherfuckers
a thousand times if they hurt that kid.
Sir, sir! Behind the barricade, sir.
You can't go that way, sir!
Hey, pal, I need you behind the barricade. Pal!
How many times have I let him die?
- My son! - You need to...
Get off me!
My son!
No!
That's my son! I didn't save my son!
No! No!
And there it is.
The end of the world.
Why not?
Mine's already over.
I can feel it.
Not just death, but being unravelled.
Every part of me splits and splits again,
along with everything else.
There's nowhere left to run,
and the one person who could help is dead.
So what if I avenged her?
I'm... I'm the one that killed her.
Not Ventor. Me. I did it.
I killed her when I ran from my relationship.
I killed her when I ran from raising our son.
I killed her when I didn't call her back.
I'm the reason she's gone.
I'm the reason Joe's gone.
I'm the reason the world ends.
What the hell's the point?
Why the hell should I even bother trying?
Nothing will ever matter again.
Not when you've lost everything you've loved.
Not when you're responsible
for the loss of all human life as we know it.
Nice job, asshole.
Can't you ever let me
sleep in just once?!
So this is it, then?
This is it, huh?
You're just gonna feel sorry for yourself forever,
day in, day out?
You're not gonna do a goddamn thing,
even if there isn't a goddamn thing you can do?
No.
You are.
You're gonna do something.
Time means nothing now.
It's no longer counting against you.
I'm being car...!
You never got to know your son,
so if that's all that's left...
..it's more than you ever deserved.
Hey, Joe!
Roy, what are you doing here? What happened to you?
Eh, I fell off a building.
Skipping school?
Let me guess. Pop-up eSport tournament?
How'd you know?
Where do you think I'm going?
- You're a gamer? - Absolutely I'm a gamer.
I knew you were on your Xbox every time I came over,
but I didn't wanna blow it with your mom, you know?
Yeah.
I'm into, like, the old '80s
vintage side-scroller games
like 'Altered Beast' and 'Double Dragon'.
- 'Street Fighter'? - That's my favourite.
Mine too.
- Yeah? - Yeah.
I like the new stuff too, though. Uh...
Hey, Roy, you think Mom will be pissed that I bailed on school?
You know what?
She'll be pissed.
But I'm gonna cover for you, OK?
- OK. - No more skipping school.
- Cool? - Cool.
Cool?
Cool.
Let's go play some 'Street Fighter'.
- Fight! - You're gonna die.
- No, you're gonna die. - Yeah?
You're gonna die and fail.
- Oh! - Oh, my bad.
Oh, but I'm still alive!
This game is so old.
What's it called? 'Glaca'?
- This game is broken. - No, it's 'Galaga'. 'Galaga'.
Right in your face! Hey!
- What? - I still won!
I got it.
Ooh!
KO!
You win!
Why do you like this game so much?
Well, there's a lot of people that chase you
and you get to kill them.
- That was a power boost. - That was a cool... arugula.
- Was that the arugula? - 'Hadouken'!
- Hadouken! - Duking again!
Hadouken!
- How did you... - Hadouken.
You win!
This is where it gets hard.
Yeah, get the girl, get the girl.
Get her?
Ohh...
Tell you what.
Let me show you how it's done.
Man, these guys keep coming.
You have no idea.
I'm not worried about it.
For a kid who doesn't go to school
that much, you're pretty smart.
- I have my ways. - Yeah.
You beat me again!
I'm pretty much the master!
All the years of this that I missed...
I want it all back.
He has Jemma's looks,
her smarts, her sense of humour.
Thank God.
Then I see that kid laugh and I see myself, just a flash.
To see my own face smiling back at me, it just...
It breaks my heart.
I could do this forever, and I just might.
We've ended this day just like this
over a dozen times now.
Never gets old.
I like that he's sound asleep when it all ends.
I like that he never stirs once.
I want to tell him that I'm his father
like I did before, but I'm scared.
I'm scared he won't look at me that way again
and I won't see what I saw in his eyes,
so I say nothing.
I wanna get a boat one day, take Mom out in it.
She never gets out at all.
I just wish I could rent one.
Could we rent one?
- A boat? - Yeah.
Take Mom out in it.
- I don't see why not. - When?
Whenever. We can...
This is when I tell him we can do it this weekend.
Then he sends his mom a text,
telling her that we're all going sailing.
This is what usually happens.
Joey...
You know, your mom...
Yeah?
Do you know what your mom was working on?
The Osiris Spindle.
Osiris Spindle. You know what that does?
She can't talk about it 'cause it's, like,
super secret and whatever.
But I overheard her say it could wipe out everything,
like the world, I guess, if they weren't careful.
Do you believe that?
Yeah, I do.
I wish I didn't.
Your mom trusted me with something and I let her down.
What do you mean?
Last night, your mom, she, um...
She didn't come home.
I know.
Does she have a new boyfriend?
No.
No, there's no new boyfriend.
Did she know I was ditching school?
'Cause it felt like you were following me.
Yeah, well, I... Not for that reason.
- Why, then? - I... I don't know.
I saw you and I wanted to talk to you.
We could catch up. We haven't spoken to each other.
Why'd you think I was following you?
Just something Mom said this morning.
- Wait, what? - On the phone. It was weird.
She said if I got into any trouble that I should find you.
Joe, it's Mom. Pick up the phone, please.
I didn't know what she was talking about.
You spoke to Mom today?
If anything strange happens,
I want you to call Roy, OK?
What time?
I don't know. Um...
I'm gonna text you his number, but call me back. Bye, baby.
Hey, bud, let me see your phone.
She was still alive when I woke up.
Ventor hadn't killed her.
She wasn't dead yet.
Don't worry, son.
I'll come back for you.
I'm coming back for both of you.
You killed her.
How the hell did you get in here?
Where is she?
Where is she?!
Ugh!
Were you trying to erase the evidence?
Trying to figure out what she was doing,
how she was able to initiate the Spindle...
Shut your mouth, Brett!
Continue...
Continue!
We can't get the Osiris Spindle to function.
Whatever she did started a chain reaction
that we can't control.
She sabotaged it somehow and it's not responding.
Son of a bitch.
The Spindle is working.
It's you. She made you the missing mass.
Otherwise, how could you have broken into this facility?
How...
..how many times have you done this?
A lot.
It works.
She was alive at least 14 minutes after I woke up.
I have time to save her.
OK. Let's do this.
Jemma is the only one who can stop this
and you have at least 14 minutes to reach her.
What the hell. Here we go.
The fucking asshole just jumped!
Fly, motherfucker!
Fly!
I got 12.5 minutes. Make this thing go faster.
Move!
Nice flying, dick!
I want the big knock-down, drag-out now.
The donnybrook. The battle royale.
Bring 'em all on, every last one of 'em,
so I can light 'em up and lay waste.
'Cause I've been waiting for this
for a long fucking time.
Maybe too long.
Ha-ha!
I mean, you know, I don't have all day.
Hey, Brett!
Ooh!
Ugh!
You came for me.
You did it.
You came for me.
How many times did it take?
Just one.
We don't have much time. Come on.
I couldn't tell you. They were watching me, monitoring me.
I had to sneak around the lab all night.
I barely got that book to you.
It was just enough.
I think Ventor sent men after Joe.
There's no-one left. They're all gone, Jemma.
Joe's fine.
He's skipping school to go to Gamer-Con, but he's OK.
How do you know that?
He's got a crush on a girl in his class named Camille
who he showed all the bus routes in school to,
but he's afraid to ask her to be his girlfriend.
He and his friend Wyatt,
they lied about their age a couple of weeks ago
to enter a paintball tournament.
You asked him about a welt on his neck.
He said he got it from a bug bite.
He, uh... he fractured his wrist last month skateboarding
and now it makes this weird, funny...
- Clicking noise. - ..clicking sound.
He loves dogs, especially pugs,
and he thinks you two should rescue one.
He did a watercolour version of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night'
about a year ago for your birthday
'cause he knows that's your favourite painting.
He thinks Mom works too much, doesn't smile enough.
Oh, but that boy loves you so much.
How do I stop this, Jemma?
It's not about stopping, Roy.
It's about restarting.
I made your dimensions, your DNA,
specific to the missing mass within the Spindle.
What does that mean?
It means you have to enter the Spindle's core,
then, theoretically,
the time-space continuum should reset and resume.
Theoretically?
I don't know. I honestly don't, Roy.
I mean, this whole thing's just so cobbled together.
I was just trying to stop Ventor.
I didn't even know it worked until you showed up.
You have to remember I just saw you yesterday.
And I haven't seen you in forever.
I didn't know what else to do, where else to turn.
I just knew the man you were, Roy.
I know the man you are.
But I don't know what'll happen to you if you go in there.
I know what happens if I don't.
You saw it, the end of the world.
Yeah.
What was it like?
It was everything you imagined it to be,
only a million times worse.
Will it go forward if I... walk through this thing?
Is it gonna reset? Are you and Joe gonna be safe?
If you return your mass to the core, it should.
You may not make it.
You may cease to be.
Well, then...
..give me a kiss and tell me you love me.
I love you.
Wait for me, yeah?
I will.
What the hell. Here we go.
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