Wakey Wakey. Heads up!
Shoes, pants... Low bridge! Shirt...
On your left. I'll take that.
Block slap. Knife switch.
Grip 'im, flip 'im.
Okay. 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.
This might have been fun for a while.
You're fuckin' dead!
Once the shock wore off,
once I realised what the hell was happening,
after nearly a hundred and forty times
it just fuckin' 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.
Ah, shit. Gotta jump.
I missed this truck exactly 22 times before.
Know how it feels, falling four storeys to the street below?
It fuckin' hurts is how it feels.
Mr Man's Man in the Challenger here screams at date-rape volume every single time:
- I'M BEING CAR-JACKED!! - 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 how to drive. - Esmeralda the chauffeur and Pam. - You love to argue.
I have no fuckin' 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
God?
Don't feel bad for me.
This kinda shit happens eeevery day.
I used to complain that every day it felt the same.
And then May 9th came.
And now every day is the same.
Same wake-up scream, same machete-wielding asshole.
Same everything, with... slight variations.
Motherf... !!
Argh!
One thing that never changes...
...is I die.
Every. Single. Day.
I die.
Here's a little highlight reel.
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 the timing down.
This little angel-faced asshole is known as Guan-Jin.
How do I know her name?
I am Guan-Jin!
And Guan-Jin 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 fuckin' weird old dwarf, what are you doing?
Oh.
I don't like that attitude.
I gave them all nicknames: Pam, Smiley,
the German twins, Roy number 2,
who just happens to be some asshole who looks exactly like me.
And sometimes I manage to kill them.
But it doesn't matter.
They always find me.
And eventually, they take me out.
I'm Guan-Jin!
And Guan-Jin 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 husb... um, her boyfriend, Roy.
Ah, Captain Roy Pulver here, 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. - 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?
I 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?
- Ein. - Zwei.
That was no fucking accident.
[both] Drei!
Why is she dead? Who killed her?
I've never lived long enough to find out.
Okay so, where were we? Oh yeah, the bus.
Fuck!
- [speaks Spanish] - Oh, honey, we've got ourselves a cowboy.
I think I'm gonna have to get serious here.
What the f...!
Fuck me!!
OHH !!
Fuck!
Nah, I think they deserved it.
- Hey, Roy. - Hi, Jake.
You look like death taking a dump. What happened to you?
I just woke up wrong. I'm fine, Jake.
It 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 kidding.
Alcoholics unanimous, am I right?
- You know you got today, right Jake? - Because tomorrow isn't guaranteed.
Fuckin' A, pal. Fuckin' A.
This kids is all about to shut down.
How can you drink like that?
- How can you not? - You know,
a lot of expert internal security pundits, and mind you, I'm one of 'em,
think that next 9/11 will target our distilled spirits.
Now, you have got a country where the rate of alcoholism
and binge drinking is somewhere in the 38th percentile
so should you wipe out...
This douchebag's named Dave.
Dave is a security specialist at 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 twelve-time world champion.
Shhit! Dai Feng.
- Why, you know she's one of the most famous... - Woman Chinese sword masters?
- Twelve times... - World Champion.
- Have I told you about her? - A hundred times.
Really? I don't remember.
- I do. - Pedro, clear a table for Si-Fu Feng.
Hi. Please, sit.
Si-Fu 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 eleven, she takes the last seat at the bar.
Shit. She just stared at me.
- Have you ever been with a woman? - Excuse me?
Have you ever been with a woman?
I 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...
O- okay. I feel- 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 fuckin' 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 Pant Loaf 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.
- That's too much. - Sit down, Dave.
Excuse me?
I want to tell you a story.
Okay, I'm bombed today. A little twist on the war story.
I start talking about the other times I've died, when I've had too much to drink.
Have you ever been shot in the face, Dave?
I was shot in the face.
A funny thing happened to me right before I died.
This was a while back now, it...
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.
And it wasn't only until- 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.
Can you believe that shit? That's fuckin' wild.
That is a true story, Dave.
Good stuff, buddy.
Ever thought about getting a sober coach?
Copy that.
At exactly 12:47... oh, well,
let me get to that in a second.
Let's say a quarter 'til, I've usually got a really, really good buzz,
and I- I'm feeling fuckin' good.
You see, as long as I make it to this bar,
I can drink 'til they find me.
I can get abso-lutely 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?
Because outside 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.
A 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.
Yeah, that's good.
- Guys, um... can you give me a second, please? - Sure.
My God, woman.
Look at you.
- Hey. - Hey.
So... have you developed some allergic reaction to the phones?
No, no, I just got back. My cell phone is shut off and I didn't get a chance to...
...square away my landline, so...
- So they shut that off, too? - Ah, yeah.
I mean, it's- it's really just luck that you got in touch with me at all.
Ah, yeah.
The amount of luck it took to find you
in the bar at the bottom of your apartment building.
What would be odds?
Well hello there, sarcasm. How you been, stranger?
Haven't heard from you in a while.
- What's that? - I brought a resume.
But the printer I used was kinda low on ink so the Delta Force section is hard to read.
That gonna hurt my chances?
Come here.
They, um...
...wear uniforms here.
- So I just... - Ah. Alright, cool, yeah.
- I need to just... - I mean, it's not those... whoa!
Those maroon things, like mall security, because I can't rock them...
Maroon. Like...
...my dress?
No, not like your dress, because that would be sexy.
-That's... - No, I'm just saying.
- Fine. - A- anyway, I...
What's the salary here, anyway?
Have you an idea? And is there a medical co-pay
because I have pre-existing-- You know, with the... combat stuff.
Anyway, what are you doing 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?
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.
Wow, look at Joe.
Jesus, he's getting so big, Jemma.
Hey, you mind if I swap this out?
This- this picture, you've... got another one of these?
Oh yeah, sure, you can take it. What's your weight?
I'm doing, um... I'm doing a special paleo thing, so it's like 175.
Still drinking?
- Yeah... - I'll put 180.
Have you thought about telling 'im?
It would mean a lot to me if we could tell him, Jemma.
Honestly, what would he gain? You've been absent for most of his life.
Why do you say it like that, like...
... it wouldn't be worth it if I got to know him now.
My work took me away from you, guys.
- Your work? - Yeah
Your work?
I... 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... asshole who didn't want to stick around, right?
What does it matter any more, Roy?
We- we both moved on, we've made our decision, and Joe adores you anyway.
- He adores me? - Yeah.
What'd he say about me?
What do you want, Roy?
I lost you. Okay?
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.
- Doctor Wells. - Just a minute.
Oh, sorry, Brett.
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 resume, 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 resume... and I see cause for concern.
He doesn't look like much.
No one ever notices the housefly until 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 on 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, um... reach outside the normal ranks.
No one that could connect back to us. The more random the assets, the better.
Find some real freaks.
Okay, 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.
- Go to the hospital, first. - Be there in a moment, Colonel.
- You drew blood. - Listen to me now, Roy.
Okay 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... - It's important that you listen. Just listen!
- Alright, you talk. You talk, you talk. - Okay.
I forgot how trying this can be.
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, but he also has your selfishness
and your ability to just... disappear when it suits him.
- Just when I thought we were turning a corner. - And run from responsibility.
Okay, 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. - Okay.
Look. It's Roid and Rage.
You know, carbohydrates are not your friend, fellas.
- Doctor Wells. Are you well? - Yes.
- Does cigar smoke botther 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, um... friend, Captain Pulver.
- Yes, he dropped off a resume. - 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... - You are the mother of his child, no?
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'd like to share with you now.
If you'll indulge me.
- Ah, I happen to... like long stories. - Oh 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 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.
And then I hear it.
This... piercing squeal,
like a steam whistle.
Wild boar.
Make you piss your pants.
The sound alone is 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 straight away.
Now I'd rather put a bullet in ten 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.
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 bellow's-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 it's eyes.
And it was until later...
...when it finally moved its mid-section,
now distended with the outline of that boar...
...that I saw a dozen eggs.
Python eggs.
The boar was about to trample it's 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 it's future from being obliterated.
I enjoyed that story.
Oh, and I enjoyed 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 post-haste.
- Yes? - Of course.
Thank you, doctor. That's wonderful.
Do watch your step.
- You want another one? - Um, "another one" what?
You are sweet...
How long have you two known each other?
We only met today.
- He is my newest best friend. - Yes I am.
- Alice is a dental hygienist. - Which is weird 'cause I...
...really ...hate teeth.
I mean, just the texture of them grosses me out.
- Then a career in dentistry seems like... - Like the last thing I should be doing?
Yeah, I know, I know.But, you know, I'm... I'm all about the challenge.
I like to really push myself out of my comfort zone.
- It's the only way to grow, really. - So true.
He's so pretty. Isn't he pretty?
How long have you guys known each other?
Ah, with Gabrielle? For as long as I've been drinking in this bar.
- Since you got back from overseas. - Oh, danger. Do tell!
Oh, ladies, there's really almost nothing to tell.
- Ah, may then tell us almost nothing? - Um, but... can you wait? Because...
I've gotta pee. I'll be right back.
You should take her home, Roy.
You should take her home.
You had to ask:
"Why not take you home too, Gabrielle?"
And I will say...
"Maybe another night".
I'm starting to wear you down.
We'd have fun, Roy, but...
- ...we'd 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 wants to call me now.
Don't know.
Hello?
- Roy, can you hear me? - Jemma? What...
Are you still at the lab? It's- it's almost 3 AM.
Jemma, Jemma, you okay?
- You alright? - Yeah, I'm fine, but...
- Wh- what- 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- I can't hear you, Jemma. - I'm gonna need your help.
Wait-wait-wait, wh- what's going on, you okay?
I can't explain it right now, but... you wouldn't understand anyway.
Hey, I think I lost you.
Jemma, call me back, okay?
- 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.
Um... well, you know, we were talking about the hottest people on that planet
and naturally, your name came up.
I should have tried to call Jemma back when
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 re-do.
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."
XO, X... oooh, fuck me!
Let's do that again.
I'M BEING CAR-JACKED!!
Fuck!
C'me on, c'me on. Let's go.
- Dude, die already, God damn it! - He's in my way.
About fuckin' time.
- I'M BEING CAR...! - AAAHH!!
Don't read and drive, moron.
How did I never notice this?
Shit, I missed the exit to the Chinese restaurant.
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. Straight-forward stuff.
Who the hell thinks up shit like this?
All I've been doing is running for 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 cease-fire
and somewhere quiet where I can get some reading done.
Osiris and Isis were a devoted husband and wife. Blah-blah...
She was an Egyptian high priestess, an 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 is he doing?
Oh 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'd you do, pal? - Ten dollar entry, broham.
Five dollar per round, double elimination.
What, uh... What you got going here?
- Pop-up e-sport tourney. - What is that?
Competitive video gaming.
Yeah, we do mostly retro eighties-based side-scrollers.
Double Dragon, Altered Beast, Street Fighter.
We're purists, bro. Dedicated to video games' golden age.
Analog or death. 8-bit is the shit.
- How old are you? - The big four one. Life creeps up.
- Forty-one? - Yeah.
- You got a son here or something? - I'm childless by choice, bro.
Whose choice?
Keep it.
Joe yo, hey.
- Hi bud. - Roy. Hey, what's up?
Look at you, you've shot way up, huh?
I think you were like [...] high last time I saw you.
- I didn't know you were a gamer. - Oh, I am not a gamer.
So 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. - Ahh...
And Mom would be really mad if she knew I was here.
Mom would be really mad.
I tell you what, I won't rat you out if you tell me one thing.
Okay...
What did you buy from that boy upstairs, the older boy?
- I didn't buy anything. - Joe. I saw you.
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? - Uh-huh.
What, did you think I was buying drugs or something?
Or something.
I just turned eleven, I can't do that stuff.
You can't do that stuff ever, pal. Okay?
- Yeah? - Yeah.
Let's go get some lunch, we can come back, okay? I want to talk to you.
Alright?
- The screen is broken anyway. - Ah, sh... piece of junk. Come on.
- You hungry, buddy? - Yeah.
Yeah?
- What's your favourite food? - Pizza.
- Pizza? - Mm-hmm.
We can go get some pizza. What about sushi?
- Don't like sushi. - You don't?
- No. - How come?
- Because it's sushi. - Oh! That makes sense.
I have to tell him now.
Tell him his mother is gone. Tell him that...
...he's never gonna see her again.
- Tell him that... - You know, Mom says you're a badass.
Badass?
- 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 me, I'm- I'm the real guy.
- Really? - I'm not kidding you, that's real.
Oh, that's so cool.
Hey, Joe.
I gotta tell you something, bud.
And it's gonna be pretty hard to hear. 'kay?
I don't have an easy way to say this.
12:50
3 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 want to 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? - Aww! Fuck you!
Fuck me? Where's the device?!
- Up your ass. - Oh, you're full of ideas!
- Fuck off! - Okay, fuck off!
Heeey, buddy!
Okay. When you gotta go, you gotta go.
Where's this tracker?
I know it's here... where's this thing?
Fuck.
Pedro... you want to help me look?
And then I said: "When I will see your counter-intelligence expert,
and raise you a counter-surveillance specialist, my friend."
- You should have seen that [...] look on his face. - You... you're crazy!
Dave!
- Hey, Roy. - Hey.
- Sorry to interrupt. - No-no-no, I was just telling Jake over here about this loudmouth...
Great, good. Dave, do 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!
- What are we talking? Traditional transponders...? - The kind you put on a person.
- A body-based or an implantable device? - Um, which's better?
If you- 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--
Dave, where would you implant it? Where would you do it?
Well, most people think subcutaneously,
- just underneath the skin... - Okay, Dave, where would you put it?
- Oh, you mean me, personally? - You, personally.
Ha-ha! A Dave special.
What does that stupid face mean?
- Hm? - Yeah. - Hm? - Yeah.
He gets it. Your teeth, Roy. Your 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.
Also, 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 mouth
- If that tooth were removed I could possibly check it out... - Jake!
A large bottle of Baijiu and a pair of pliers, now.
- AAHH! AWW!! - No, no, no! Oh, God-damn! This shit!
Don't worry, Dave, it'll grow back.
Have you lost your mind?! No, no, you need some damn help!
Not while your being so helpful. What do you think?
- No. - You sure?
- I'm positive! - What time is it?!
- Shit. It's 12:45. - Oh shit. Only two minutes.
Man, it is time for you to stop snatching your damn teeth out of your mouth.
- Are you crazy?! - Aww...
- Fuck this shit. - No, no, no!! Oh God...
I should have stayed my black ass at home.
- Look! - No! - Look!!
- Oh, my God. - What?
- Yeah. That tooth. - Umm-hmm.
There's an irregularity in that tooth.
- There is? - Yeah. Oh, my God.
I would need to see... inside of it.
- Roy? - Yeah.
- Carefully. - Yeah... - Okay?
Careful. No! No, that's not careful!
- This son of a bitch... - Oh, my God.
- Roy. - 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? - Let go...!
- Who did it?! - A guy called Brett...
Mr. Frat Boy, fake-bake bald
400-pound "I-dye-my-beardhair-black" douchebag head of Dynow security.
Brett.
I'm gonna punch a giant fucking hole in his chest.
- Howdy... - 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 Walter 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 her by the trigger guard.
Handle it as if it were porcelain.
Please.
Soft as a whisper.
- AH? - Adolf.
Hitler.
- Que? - 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 Christ!
- What is wrong with you? - Fast forward to the present day.
- And it cost me a Very. Pretty. Penny. - I didn't think this could get any worse. And it has...
- Who sent you? - Wouldn't you like to know?
- Hint-hint? - Never.
- Are you going to kill me now? - No, Pam. I'm gonna shoot you.
That's for the Jews.
Those too.
Come on, boy! [...]!
Jemma put me here on purpose. I don't know how, I don't know why.
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.
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 barbeque at the moment.
We're only missing two members: you and the shithead calling the shots.
You assume there's someone above me.
Well, 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.
Hold, hold, hold!
Fall back! Get down!
I can do this all day, dick.
Hello, Roy number 2.
Goodbye, Roy number 2.
Roy number 2 was unarmed and I'm positive.
I'm not getting a weapon past these guys.
Sir.
Oh, yeah, sorry.
Access denied.
Oh, it's uh... It's... must be me.
Sir!
Hi, Roy.
So do I do a "Butch and Sundance" blaze of glory bit here?
Nah. Never say die.
That was weird.
You big motherfucker.
Hello, handsome.
You... cut my head off a couple of dozen times.
Someone's been the busiest little beaver.
What are you gonna do with that?
I was thinking about fucking you up.
Remember in "Raiders", that asshole who was
twirling the sword around and around thinking he was all cool and shit?
Indy just shot him, 'cause he was exhausted and impatient
and just couldn't take the bullshit any more.
- You remember that? - Yeah.
Fuck!
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-Jin!
And Guan-Jin has done this.
I am Guan-Jin!
And Guan-Jin has done this.
I am Guan-Jin.
And Guan-Jin has done this.
I'm Guan-Jin and I've done this.
And this isn't even the worst part.
This is. Ventor.
The man who killed Jemma.
Same bozo that's had me killed a 150 fucking times.
Captain, as first impressions go, this is truly stand-out stuff.
How you were able to despatch 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 that bullshit memorized, because it's word for fucking word the same,
every single fucking time.
All the men I've watched die and lain to rest, in their 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 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.
That's really sharp. 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, umm...
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.
That 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 'em.
Hi.
[mumbles] I need to learn how to fight with a sword.
- I have no idea what you just said. - Oh, it's...
I need to learn 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 thinik 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?
You're not really going to fight 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 will wait.
Shit's about to get steel.
Mother-fucker.
What I wanted to say was:
"I am Roy. And Roy has done this."
W-whoa.
Brett...
I smell muffins. Do you smell muffins?
I'll just... walk it off.
And now I'm blind.
- Looks like a 400-pound unicorn. - You slippery son of a bitch.
- You gonna go for that gun? - I am not.
- Do you know why? - No.
Because I'm gonna get great satisfaction from beating the shit out of you.
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. - Aww!
Because she knew what you were, Ventor.
A wannabe dictator... bent on a worldwide re-do.
Fucking liberals.
Before she launched her little Hail-Mary, did she bother to mention
that a Spindle reaction, if maintained too long, can destroy the entire planet?
Don't worry, dickhead. If 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 a failed father.
I would have thought you'd have more than a passing interest in re-doing 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! Can't go that way, sir!
Pal, pal, I need you behind the barricade! Pal!
How many times have I let him die?
MY SON!!
It's my son! I need to save my son!
NO!!
And there it is.
The end of the world.
Why not?
Mine's already over.
I can feel it. Not just death.
Being unravelled, every part of me...
...splits and splits again, along with everything else.
There's nowhere left to run and one person who can help is dead.
So what if I avenged her?
I'm the one that killed her. Not Ventor, me. I did it.
I killed her when I ran from our 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 am the reason the world ends.
What the hell is 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 the 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?
Are you 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?
Nah.
You are.
You're gonna do something.
Time means nothing now.
It's no longer counting against you.
I'M BEING CAR-JA...!!
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- what are you doing here? What happened to you?
Ah, I fell off a building.
Skipping school?
- Let me guess: pop-up e-sports 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 X-Box every time I came over, but I didn't want to
- blow it with your Mom, you know. - Yeah.
I'm into like, the old 80's vintage side-scroller games
like Altered Beast and Double Dragon?
- Street Fighter? - It's my favourite.
- Mine too. - Yeah? - Yeah.
- I like the new stuff, too, though. Umm... - Hey, Roy.
Do 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. Okay?
- Okay. - No more skipping school, cool? - Cool.
- Cool? - Cool.
So let's go play some Street Fighter.
- You're gonna die. - No, you're gonna die.
You're gonna die and fail...
Oh, my bad! Oh, but I'm still alive!
This game is so old! What's it called, Glaca?
- The game's broken. - Galaga. Galaga.
Right in the face! Aim!
- I still won. - I got it!
K.O.
- 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! - Oh, that was Aku- Aru- Arugula?
- Was that the Arugula? - Hadouken!
Haru-gen again!
HARUUU-GEN!!
- How did you ...? - You win!
- This is where it it gets hard. - Yeah, get the girl. Get the girl.
You know what? Let me show you how its done.
Man, these guys keep comin'...
You have no idea.
I'm not letting go...
For a kid who doesn't go to school that much, you're pretty smart.
I have my ways.
You beat me again!
Oh, come on, it's 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 humor.
Thank God.
Then I see that kid laugh, and I see myself.
Just a flash.
I see my own face, smiling back at me
Breaks my heart.
I could do forever.
And I just might.
We've ended this day, just like this... over a dozen times now.
It 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.
I won't see what I saw in his eyes.
So I say nothing.
I want to get a boat one day. Take Mom out in it.
She's... 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, I... we could...
This is when I tell him... we can do it this weekend.
Then he send 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 is working on?
- The Osiris Spindle? - Osiris Spindle.
You know what that does?
She can't talk about it, because 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, you know...
- ...your Mom, she, um... - She didn't come home.
I know.
Does she have a new boyfriend?
No.
- There's no new boyfriend, nah. - Did she know I was ditching school?
- It felt like you were following me. - Yeah, I was, I... I...
- ...but not f- for that reason. - Why then?
I... I don't know. I saw you and I wanted to talk to you, I mean,
catch up, we haven't speak- spoken to each other.
Why did 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 ha- happens, I want you to call Roy, okay?
- 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.
- Ah, how the hell did you get in here? - Where is she?
Where is she?!
- 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.
You 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.
Okay. Lets 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 fuckin' asshole just jumped.
Fly, motherfucker!
FLY!!
I've got twelve and a half minutes. Make this thing go faster.
Move!
Nice flying, dick.
I want the big knock-down drag out now...
A 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.
I mean... you know, I don't have all day.
Hey, Brett!
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 for a gamer con, but he's okay.
How do you know that?
He's got a crush, on a girl in his class named Camille.
He showed her all the bus routes to school,
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, um.. he fractured his wrist last month, skateboarding.
And now it makes this weird...
- ...funny.. clicking sound. - Clicking sound...
He loves dogs, especially pugs.
And he thinks you two should rescue one.
He did a watercolor version of Van Gogh's 'Starry Night',
about a year ago, for your birthday, because he knew it was 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?
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 will 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's it like?
It was everything you imagine 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, huh?
I will.
What the hell. Here we go.