American Gods

Shadow, We're gonna be releasing you later this afternoon.

Your wife...

...she died in the early hours of this morning.

An automobile accident.

I love you, puppy.

I'm a leprechaun.

My lucky coin.

You are pretending you cannot believe in impossible things.

Give me my fucking coin, dead wife.

Ah!

I was killed by a god. Which fucking god?

Wednesday. Oh!

Fuck that guy.

Do you know who he is?

Who he really is?

Shadow Moon.

You're my man, now.

He's hustling you.

He's a hustler.

Hello, Shadow.

- You're working for Wednesday. - Yeah.

Kill him.

You are on a path...

from nothing to everything.

He does not know our world.

I'm easing him in.

What's a god? Can we even know they exist?

People believe things. Which means they're real.

So what came first, gods or the people who believed in them?

You've done well with me.

Now, you owe.

I'm calling it in.

Mr. Wednesday.

Overdue.

I hear war...

I am...

Odin!

You wanted a war...

...you have one.

Is this real?

Did that just happen?

It's still happening?

Your destination is on the right.

I know where I'm going!

Dude.

You're a mess.

He could've killed... me.

Show him.

Challenge.

Buroklammer.

Mister...?

World.

I am Mr. World.

Welcome to Black Briar.

I'll destroy the old fucker.

I'm going to take him out.

I'm going to take them all... out.

No.

We can't move without preparation,

off balance and unready.

We'll marshal our forces,

and eradicate his paternal stain from the geriatric tomes

of every decrepit church, temple,

and back-alley apothecary.

When the time comes...

...the gutters will run black with ichorous spume,

and the ossuaries shall overflow with his dust.

This is a time...

for preparation.

I can't sell war without my best salesman.

You...

...need to find her.

Find Media.

Oh!

Fuck!

Isn't this fun?

I still don't understand

how such a sweet old man could have so many enemies.

Oh, it's perfectly simple, my dear. Jealousy.

Pure unmitigated jealousy.

They all want what I have.

A good time, wherever I go.

He's the original good time that was had by all.

And I get to ride along with you.

I must be the luckiest girl in the world.

That you are. But it's my bloody luck you're feeding on, dead wife.

Ow! Fuck!

What is the House on the Rock?

A place where people come to look, play, and wonder.

Like Disney World.

Dear old Walt.

Built a Magic Kingdom without any magic.

Whereas in some parts of Florida, there is real magic.

Oh, remember the mermaids of Weeki Wachee, Sweeney?

Aye.

Been there and done several of them.

Who knew they'd be into that kind of thing, huh?

They're a very passionate species.

Do you believe in mermaids now?

I don't know what I believe in yet.

I guess...

I dunno, I...

I guess I believe in him.

I want to believe in you.

Sixty years ago,

Alex Jordan began to build a house

on a high spot of rock in a field he did not even own.

And even more,

he could not have told you why.

And people came to see him build it.

The curious and the puzzled,

and those who were neither;

they could not honestly have told you why they came.

So, he did what any sensible American male

of his generation would do:

he began to charge them money.

Nothing much. A nickel. A quarter.

And he kept building,

and the people kept coming.

So, he took those nickels and quarters

and made something even bigger and stranger.

He filled the land beneath the house

with things for people to see,

and they came.

Millions of them every year.

Sorry, Ma'am. The attraction's closing.

I'll show you out.

You are here for the meeting.

I wasn't formally invited.

Uh. Hallo.

- Salim? - Hi.

What the fuck are you doing here?

Do you boys need a minute?

I need the eyes of Argus on my side to see my enemies.

Make the connection for me.

Black Briar is for the use of the president.

The president is a cardboard cut-out.

I am the man behind the men,

behind the man.

Operation Paperclip.

The moon landing.

Roswell.

The Compton Crack Wars.

You work for me.

You... have always worked for me.

So when I say

I need to see through the eyes of Argus,

you make the connection.

Oh, it is indeed a beautiful Easter Sunday here in the

nation's capital, Tracy.

The East Coast can expect mild temperatures and sunshine.

While our friends in Kentucky are still reeling from a freak weather phenomenon

which has killed thousands of acres of spring crops.

In other weather news, there seems to be some trouble brewing out in southern

Wisconsin where a severe weather...

What's the hold-up, Shadow?

You're a god, but you can't open a fucking gate.

You just give me a minute?

You want me to bust it, Shadow? I can.

Wha...?

Mad Sweeney?

Is that you?

Or is that Wednesday's bullshit I smell?

A keen nose, Mr. Fancypants.

But that ain't Irish sexy you're smelling.

It's Roadkill Rhonda over here.

Nancy!

So, who'd you bring me? John Henry?

No, choo-choo train. No John Henry. You know that.

Oh, Whiskey Jack?

No whiskey.

No Whiskey Jack.

- Not even the rabbit? - Ha!

You are persona non grata in the rabbit community. I think you know why.

So, Easter told me to tell you

she ain't coming

on account of you mowing over bunnies with your car

like some kinda fucking rabbit racist.

Shadow Moon!

Did I or did I not just thrust your rusty butt

into bespoke haberdashery

just a few days ago?

You're very welcome to come to the house,

but you're not invited to the party.

Oh, I'm just keeping an eye on my husband.

Well, look at him. He's got a spring in his step

he didn't have when he left prison.

Which is strange since his wife was murdered.

Highways can be very dangerous places.

If it's any comfort, I know what it's like to be dead.

I once sacrificed myself for knowledge.

I-I hung on the great tree, Yggdrasil,

for nine days and nine nights.

And look at you now, all alive.

And I learned a great deal.