American Horror Story

Women age differently than men do.

In a man, the left ventricle,

the one that pumps red blood into the body,

gets larger, thicker as he gets older.

In a woman, it shrinks.

I am now more than a century old.

My heart must be just a few karats at this point.

There is room there for very little,

so what still fits inside means more to me than ever.

It means everything.

The last 100 years of my immortal life

have been a lie.

The illusion of control.

In truth, I have controlled nothing.

I have surrounded myself with fools and flatterers,

put my trust in those who could not be trusted.

(Valentino grunting, Rambova screams) I have a sneaking suspicion

you're going to miss your train.

Enemies without.

Enemies within.

It is time to construct something new.

Something durable.

With fortifications of iron, stone and steel.

I will not be ruled.

I will not be managed.

We move all of this.

I pop in a dance floor over there.

I'll fly in Calvin to do the music.

Let's not have some big vulgar display.

I'd rather we just do something simple and intimate.

All I need is you, a justice of the peace,

Lachlan to bear the rings,

and sprays of lilies of the valley.

Are you kidding?

Will Drake is getting married.

This wedding needs to be the event of the season.

Trust me, I'm a showman.

This is what I do.

Well, I'm no show pony.

What are you talking about?

I love you, Will.

You need me, I'm restorative,

but you let the world

suck you dry of any inspiration,

and now you want to invite them back in.

I can't be a part of that.

It's them or me.

It's you.

It's-it's always you.

If you want something intimate, then that's what it'll be.

This is your wedding.

It's our wedding.

You design my gown.

I'll take care of everything else.

I suppose it would be a little awkward

with all that paparazzi around

and you being so...

camera shy, as it were.

Have the flowers delivered by Wednesday morning.

You're kidding.

Right?

Bitch, do you honestly think

I would lift a finger to help you with your wedding

after what you did?

Tristan never loved you.

He didn't know how to love.

You didn't know him...

at all!

He did love me.

You may have taken him away,

but I will not let you take that.

Buy your own damn flowers.

My largess betrays me.

Those to whom I have given much

repay me only with resentment and ingratitude.

Security can be found only by looking into oneself.

Others only make a mess of things.

NEWSWOMAN (over TV): The body of a homeless man,

who appears to have been exsanguinated,

was found in the City of Industry last night.

No word on how the man's blood was drained,

or if this might be related to a series of similar murders

that have taken place in the city over the past few weeks.

Police are searching for a small group of children

who may have witnessed the attack.

A woman can only be pushed so far.

And I'm right on the edge.

I'm weary.

: Hello.

Weary of the world failing me.

Yeah, I think I found your boy.

Weary of the steady drip, drip of disappointment.

I won't be disappointed again.

May I come in?

Only if you kiss me first.

Oh, God.

I forgot how good you feel inside me.

Oh, God.

Why did I ever let you leave me?

You didn't let me.

You threw me out.

Oh, yeah.

That's right.

You should have fought harder.

Well, I was going to, but you killed him before I could.

Promise me...

from now on, it's just me.

Forever.

Monogamy, Donovan?

Commitment.

We can do what we want with whoever we want...

Mm-hmm.

But you love only me.

I swear it.

But I won't make the same mistakes again.

It's going to require more than words.

It requires actions.

Whatever you want, baby.

Good.

I'm getting married on Wednesday.

What?

Relax. I'll be a widow by Thursday.

A rich widow.

I want to make a clean start of things.

Clear away all the detritus of our lives.

Great, who should we kill first?

After your betrothed, I mean.

Let's make a list.

Sorry,

douche bag convention is over at the Hilton.

We have a reservation.

Under my name, Stormcock.

Okay.

Would that be a...

last name or the whole thing, like Madonna?

Do you have the reservation or not?

It's right here.

So, uh,

what are you guys planning on doing up there?

Oh, nothing unusual.

Straight sex, blow job.

I'll probably rim her.

You're not sticking

your tongue in my ass.

Nothing like a prude porn star.

I'll bring up some extra towels

after you've settled in.

Thank you.

("Blue Monday" by New Order playing)

I got nothing against pornography,

when it's done right.

I went and saw Deep Throat

at the Royal on Santa Monica Boulevard,

just like everyone else.

Hell, even William Buckley went.

That was shot with real actors, on sets, with a script.

Nowadays, any couple of yahoos can take out their iPhones

and pretend to be the Sydney Pollack of sex flicks.

And because of that World Wide Web,

they can actually make a buck off of it.

And plenty of them are picking the Hotel Cortez

to make their mess-terpieces.

In the past, I'll admit it, I was an enabler.

I'd take the money and hand them a key

and try not to think about what was happening upstairs.

But ever since I was converted, I can't turn away.

I don't want to.

It's a new me.

I'm becoming a goddamn Dirty Harriet.

Porn hurts people.

Hurts the girls who think they need to screw like that.

Hurts the guys who think girls want to screw like that.

I'm not uptight,

I just don't want it going on in my hotel anymore.

Donovan will like his strong new mother.

Hell, I'm an example for mothers everywhere now.

I told you you were being too loud.

I'm always loud when I'm faking it.

What the hell?

Douche bag.

Oh, my God.

Please, I don't want to die.

I don't want to...

Hello, Iris.

Dono, what are you doing here?

Wow.

Wow. I mean, I heard what you did

to those hipsters a couple weeks ago,

about how you were ready

to off The Countess's kids, but I thought

it was just tall tales.