The Good Place

Why didn't tell me sooner, man?

- I had already told you that you died

and that I had tortured you for centuries

and that you're doomed to be tortured again.

I just didn't want to be, like, a bummer.

But now you know everything important about your life.

I promise.

A police officer came to my home and told me that my mom

had been accidentally trampled to death when she bent down

to adjust her toe ring at a Rascal Flatts concert.

That police officer was an actor.

See, about a month before, your mom had gotten drunk,

wandered into a charity auction,

and bid $30,000 for a date with Gene Simmons,

outbidding everyone else by $29,800.

She didn't want to pay, so she faked her death,

moved to Nevada, and reinvented herself as Diana Tremaine.

- Diana Tremaine is my fake ID name.

I...

How dare she steal the identity I stole?

- Look, I know this is a lot to take in,

but we're here to help your mom get into the Good Place.

Whatever you're feeling,

remember, this is not about you.

Right.

How could you do this to me?

Yay, you found me.

What the hell, Mom?

- Okay, baby, I can explain everything.

Let's all just take a breath.

You haven't even introduced me

to this stretched-out, sexy Alex Trebek.

- I'm Michael. - It's nice to meet you, Donna.

- Oh, uh, it's Diana now for, you know, police reasons.

- By the way, whose McMansion is this?

My boyfriend Dave's.

He's kind of a dork but real sweet and so fancy.

His napkins are made out of, like, shirt material.

Cloth.

- Okay, now this is making sense.

You change your name, bag a rich loser with a tacky house.

I get it. You're running a scam.

- No, baby, this is as real as the nails

under my acrylic nails.

- I'm a different person. - Spare me.

You will always be sun-baked Arizona trash,

and I know that...

because I grew up baking right beside you.

- Oh, jeez, I didn't know we had company.

- Hey. Hi, I'm Dave. - Michael.

Of course you're Dave.

Hey, Dave, you and I need to have a little conversation.

- Diana! - Oh, hey.

Who the hell is this chick?

- This is my little potato pie, Patricia.

And who might you be, by the way?

Eleanor is my sorority sister.

- Right. Good old Kappa Zeta... Jones.

Oh.

- I can't believe I have to wait in line

to see my own sister.

I have never waited in any kind of formation before,

let alone a line.

- Wow. Is this whole room just her work?

- Don't be fooled, Chidi. - Kamilah is a charlatan.

All she has to do is paint some dumb shapes, and people go mad.

- Those aren't dumb shapes. - They're a pair of boobs.

And then two extra side boobs.

It symbolizes that boobs come in all shapes and sizes

and distances apart.

Ugh. Maybe we should just go.

There are plenty of other people I could help,

like my good friend Ben Affleck

and his crippling addiction to back tattoos,

or my other good friend Matt Damon

and his crippling addiction to my friend Ben Affleck.

- It's important that you make amends.

Your competitive relationship with Kamilah

is largely the reason you didn't get into the Good Place.

It stands to reason that the same would be true for her.

- Fine. - But the waiting is over.

Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me.

- Tahani, were you waiting in line to see me?

That's hilarious.

As a frog stares up in awe at the tree top,

so, too, does humanity gawk

at the purity of a blinding truth.

Napkins and forks are in the back.

- So making omelets is art now, is it?

- Not that I'd expect you to understand,

but it's a commentary on the world's fascination

with subservience, consumption, death, and pedagogy.

Cheddar or Swiss?

- Oh, no, I don't want an omelet.

I just came for a quick sisterly chat.

- My sister, Tahani, refuses to order an omelet.

As a result, the exhibit is now over

and will never be shown again.

There will be no refunds.

- Hey, now. I just checked my Apple Watch,

and it's marg-o-clock.

So, Michael, what do you do?

- Ah, well, uh, I'm an architect.

- Get out of here. Me too. - Ah.

Dave's real good.

You should see the new Hooters on I-15.

It looks classy, like a bank.

- So how did you two love-rats meet?

Oh, it's a fun story.

I was working on this project tearing down a condemned bar

called the Desert Rash.

I went in to meet with the contractors,

and Diana is sitting at the bar drinking a 7 and 7 and 7.

7 shots of Seagram's 7 in 7 minutes.

It's Diana's morning drink.

Oh, that's right, it was very early in the morning.

Well, this little spitfire finds out it's me

who's closing down the bar.

Next thing I know, she's got a knife to my face.

I would have been scared if she hadn't been

the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen in my life.

- Oh. One thing leads to another, and all of a sudden,

we're playing tonsil tennis on a broken toilet

- in the alley out back. - Cute.

- So how did you and Eleanor become friends?

Let's just say that we "lived"

in the same "neighborhood."

Oh.

What a fun way to say a normal thing, right?

- Well, I've got to go get ready.

Today is PTA elections, and I'm running for secretary.

And she's a shoo-in, too.

Hey, Patty, we got to get ready, okay?

- I know we came here to set your mom on a better path,

but I think she's doing pretty great.

- Please. - She's completely full of it.

I am gonna find out

what kind of scam Donna Shellstrop is running,

and I am gonna take her down...

right after I finish this awesome drink.

Man, Dave's margaritas are amazing.

- Right? - Yeah.

- And I'm not even a tequila guy.

Wow.

- So this is what a museum looks like.

If you look at this painting closely,

you can really notice the interpretation.

I know you're just being silly

and effortlessly charming,

but you actually just picked the most valuable painting

in the entire museum.

As of last year, that work was valued at $39.2 million.

- Oh, snap, I forgot you know everything.

How much is that one worth?

- That one is worth $13.7 million.

- That one's got a bunch of colors.

That's got to add some value.

Can we do this for all the paintings?

- Look, I've had a sort of revelation about the world,

and I'd like to take responsibility

for my part in our fraught history.

For whatever hurt I've caused you...

I sincerely apologize.

Thank you.

I do not accept your apology.

Is that all, then?

Well...

Ooh!

Check out what Dave gave me...

Plans for a Subaru dealership/burlesque club

he's designing in Reno.

Man, Nevada's a mess.

What are you doing?

- Searching for the tell-tale sign

of a Donna Shellstrop scam...

A pile of cash hidden somewhere

so she can grab it and head out on the run.

When the time comes, she will rip this guy off

and disappear like Keyser Soze,

right after he admitted to groping all those people.

Why are you in my room?

- Oh, hey, girl. - What's up?

How old are you... three?

- I'm nine. - Cool.

I don't know anything about kids.

Hey, has Diana ever made you hide, like, a special treasure

in any of your toys?

No, Diana's very nice to me.

She bought me most of these stuffed animals.

Oh, wow. Neat.

Mind if I give them just a little surgery just to check?

- Okay, okay, okay, all right, Doc McStuffins,

let's get you some fresh air.

So sorry.

She's a kid. You can't disembowel her toys.

Fine. New plan.

You casually mention that you're rich and seduce Donna.

When she goes for you,

it will prove that this whole thing is a sham.

First things first, do you have a penis?