President Curtis

Curtis:

Mm-hmm. What do you think?

"Coke Classic" or "Crystal Pepsi"?

Crystal Pepsi.

No Crystal Pepsi after Labor Day.

Every day is after Labor Day.

- Hmm. - Hmm?

I've just never seen you fiddle so much with the presets.

It's my ex-wife's inauguration,

not a villain's lair.

I want to look good.

So you're thinking about this as kind of a date?

What? I'm not a teenager, Banks. We're divorced.

She's a governor now, and she's reaching out.

I just want to... reward that reach,

inspire further reaching.

- Ugh! Oh, my God. -

Sir, the head of Homeland Security,

a real fuddy and duddy of a man, is here.

Send him in, Janice.

Agent O'Doyle,

you are being red carded, again.

Apparently, you broke a congressman's arm in five places.

He brandished an edged weapon at the president.

He says it was a replica Civil War sword

and he was being politically theatrical.

Well, the stage is pain.

Still, please report for reevaluation

at West Wing World.

What? No! That's my boy.

And I thought the congressman agreed to keep it quiet.

It was actually pretty loud...

Five really distinct, unforgettable sounds.

The congressman isn't the one who talked.

Rho Banks, you also need to report for reevaluation

for snitching on O'Doyle.

- Banks! - That scans.

Snitching? I cooperated with a formal inquiry.

- You asked me what happened. - Yeah.

You're supposed to lie to me, dummy.

Look, none of my business,

but I assume you guys are attempting to be a team here,

something with a sense of franchise.

- That comes with trust. - Pass.

In the meantime, Special Agent Chomps

will fill in for O'Doyle.

Ah! It's good to see you again, sir.

No, man! No! Not Chomps!

The only thing cool about him is his name.

Chomps is our highest-ranking agent.

He's a normie. He's a Chad. Am I using that right?

I need my team. I'm seeing my ex-wife tonight.

You're not seeing it as, like, a date, are you?

Fuck you, and fuck you for snitching.

And, Chomps, what's with the clenched fists?

You trying to convince us you're a badass?

- I brought candy! - Together: Aww.

Oh, fucking Chomps, man.

Wow. Your ex-wife has had quite the career, sir

the only mayor of Chicago who could rehabilitate Candyman.

People gave her a lot of flak for that concept, including me.

But her ideas work.

Um, sir, are you sure about the flowers?

The governor might interpret them as a... move.

Chomps, when I want your help,

I'll stand in the path of a bullet.

- Copy that. - Andre!

Congratulations, governor-elect.

Looking sharp, Beverly.

And you are handsome, as always.

I love the flowers, but you know

- you can't hand those to me, right? - Why not?

Because I won an election, not a beauty pageant.

Kind of the same thing, but point taken.

I feel like this hug is going on too long.

Pretend like I said something funny, then pull back and laugh.

I'm usually the one who says the funny thing.

Now that's hilarious.

It's good to see the world catching up to you, Bev.

And I got very excited when you invited me.

It's not like you had to invite me, so...

Oh, Jesus, of course I had to.

- Sorry? - Think about it.

Ex-wife of the sitting president turned governor?

If you're not here, that becomes the headline...

"President Curtis blows off ex-wife's inauguration

"to fight Bigfoot," or whatever.

I already fought Bigfoot.

And now I have an even more challenging assignment.

- What's that? - Don't do anything. Just be here. For me.

But not underneath me or above me

or in front of me or behind me.

So... where do you want me?

There are tables everywhere.

And there's a photo later, and if you're standing

too far or too close to me in it,

20 years of my work becomes a tabloid story

about our sex life, so

- nuance. - Oh, Beverly!

Mind if I steal her, Mr. President?

She belongs to the world, my friend!

Talk to you later, Beverly.

The fuck is nuance?

Man: Now entering Los Silencios: Sector Five.

Next stop, West Wing World.

You understand I didn't, like, tattle on you.

You explained already.

Someone asked you what I did,

- and you answered them. - Exactly!

And isn't your gimmick that you never lie?

- I would have kept quiet. - Okay.

So if I murdered someone and you saw it

and the police asked you if I murdered someone,

you would just, pfft, say nothing?

Is this scenario happening after you snitched on me?

Hey, aren't you the Secret Service guy

who broke that congressman's arm?

Uh...

See how easy?

Yes.

Now arriving at West Wing World.

Geez. What even is this place?

It's a simulated town populated by robots

that test you on the skills required by your position.

I take it the results don't matter or you'd be gone by now.

I'm just good at it, Banks.

They put me on a fake street and try to trick me into shooting a baby.

I even know the pattern.

Gun, baby, gun, gun, baby, baby, baby, gun, baby, gun, gun,

- and it ends with a gun baby. - A what?

A baby with a gun.

It's a no-win scenario, but this time I have an idea.

Hi there, Chief of Staff Banks and Special Agent O'Doyle.

All interactions with our staff are tracked on these.

You must score 70% or more, otherwise you'll be fired.

- That's fine. -

Even-keeled in the face of a threat.

Nice work, Agent O'Doyle.

You better fucking believe it.

Narrator: But Beverly Mills didn't see a horror story,

she saw hope.

Working with Candyman and urban scientists,

they created CPEP, the Candyman Perpetual Energy Project,

a system that captured his murdering energy

with a series of mirrors, hooks,

and kinetic impact absorbers.

Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman.

Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman, Candyman.

A decade later, CPEP powers over 20% of Chicago,

and Candyman stands as a symbol of monster crime reborn.

From CPEP to raising minimum wage

to Babadook book drives,

Governor Mills is powering Illinois by planning ahead.

Still don't trust that Babadook, though.

Pfft...

Uh, would you like to leave, sir?

I can't leave! That'd piss her off forever.

She wants me to sit here like a prop?

- That's what I'm gonna do. - That's the spirit, sir!

Tonight, you're just a light wind under her capable wings.

You know, my wife, Nina, always says...

Hang on. Does that server look sketchy?

He's got the mark of the Chicago Werewolf Syndicate.

Well, you know, Beverly's big on werewolf reform.

She's got that MoonRight Initiative that's poppin'.

Uh, Chomps, can you get me another ChiTown Mule?

That's not my job, but I'm happy to serve.

Hey, pal.

Oh, Mr. President.

- Got some questions about the chow. - What?

Yeah, see, I got GERD. It's this stomach thing.

Just making sure you're not planning any

off-the-menu surprises.

Uh, no, sir.

Nothing spicy?

Oh, I think you'll like what we're gonna serve.

Sounds pretty vague.

Can you walk me through the courses?

For my GERD.

- Fuck it. -

Haha! Gotcha, bitch!

Oh, shit!

Aah! Tapatío!

- Dang it! - Oh, is that a werewolf thing?

It's an everyone thing!

No one likes hot sauce in their eyes!

Aah!

Chomps! Holy shit!

Use your silver bullets!

- I don't have silver bullets! - What?!

O'Doyle has garlic bullets, salt bullets,

- silver bullets! - I didn't bring silver bullets.

Because I don't want you to fight a werewolf!

Aah!

Oof! Oh, I hate you, Chomps!

Real silverware. This event is nice.

I knew that guy was up to something.

Come on, we gotta go tell Bev.

And ruin her party?

Sir, this might be your last chance with Beverly.