Monsterland

Syd. Syd, hold on.

I know what you're trying to do,

and I've already made up my mind.

I'm not signing anything.

No. No, what? Um...

- Whoa. What would I want you to... - A hush clause. Fucking NDA bullshit.

I told him controlling my narrative is the only power I have left,

and no one is going to take that from me.

Hey. Here's 300 bucks.

Could you give us five minutes?

Thank you.

He told me he quit.

And then I get home and find him like

that.

I can't be gas-lit anymore, so I'm not signing.

I wouldn't sign, either.

I thought you were trying to get me.

No. I just wanted to

say bye.

God.

Sorry. God, I'm such a fucking asshole. I...

- See, this is what he's turned me into. - It's cool.

Listen, it's fine. I.

God.

Why couldn't I end up with a guy like you

instead of a narcissist with a binge problem?

Can't help it.

I want to fix things.

I know what you need.

She's an activist-slash-spiritual healer,

which I know, woo-woo, but... for real.

She'll drive your demons out with her words alone.

This really helped me get out, and I, I think you can, too.

Here.

Meet you in another life?

Yeah.

Another life.

New York is not for profit! New York is not for profit!

It is incumbent upon us today

to shine a light on Titan International's

systematic failures in decision-making,

and other disregard for safety that led to this tragic environmental disaster.

Appearing before us is Mr. Stanley Price,

chief executive officer of Titan.

Congressional hearings are just as much about them,

so sit still,

and look alert.

Your opening statement is bullet proof.

Let's start with Bachner's cross-examination.

In your own words, Mr. Price, would you please describe

the mechanical failure that caused the spill?

So, one of the centralizers collapsed,

which increased drag on the pipe, from what I understand.

- What you understand? - Yes. That's right.

And were you, or were you not, aware of the dangers

of continuing without running a full compulsory risk assessment?

I was aware.

But you chose to proceed,

regardless of the increased probability

that the faulty centralizer could crack,

causing a full-blown environmental catastrophe,

which is, in fact, what happened.

As CEO,

my main focus was on personal safety, not process safety.

But as chief executive,

wouldn't you say that all safety concerns fall within your purview?

Yes.

However,

I was not informed of the issue at the time.

Is it true, Mr. Price,

that the spill caused by the faulty centralizer was actually,

and currently continues to be,

10,000 times worse

- than the figure you gave the EPA? - No.

That is not true.

So, you deny that when the Titan leak was gushing

400,000 gallons of oil a day into a devastated Gulf Coast,

you brazenly claimed a total of 40 gallons,

instructing your staff to, quote, "lose a couple zeros."

It was...

Is he having a stroke?

You know, Mr. Price, lying to Congress is a federal offense.

And that's lunch.

Hey, hi. Excuse me. Hi.

- Hi. - So, just want to run by you real quick,

we test-marketed a variety of "apology" blue suits,

and these five made the final cut.

What do you think?

How about a T-shirt that says, "I fucking did it"?

He realizes it's an election year, right?

They are all sharks with hard-ons.

He is gonna get eaten and fucked.

- I think he's scared. - Yeah? The stench coming off him is fear?

He's just a little distracted.

Syd's out.

What? "Out," out?

She left this morning before the run-through.

Are you serious?

Shit!

Fuck! We are dead.

Don't tell me I never gave you anything.

Is this a fucking NDA?

How did you pull this off?

I couldn't even get her to sign the company Christmas card.

Magic.

Stan.

Hey, you, think maybe we should go back?

You want to know why I'm sorry?

I'm sorry America's pussy-wet for oil.

Sorry for making the world spin, but somebody had to do it.

What about what's-his-name?

The regional manager?

- The walrus. - Randall Pierce.

It was his oversight. Where's he?

Walking around going to Taco Bell.

You know, I single-handedly transformed Titan

from a two-pipeline outfit

into the world's biggest energy corporation,

keeping thousands of their fucking constituents employed,

and you can add a couple of zeros to that figure!

I can't lose.

How about another public donation?

Bronx Science, green energy labs,

"every child has a God-given right to learn..."

I need a real plan.

Call Dorsey.

That is certainly interesting.

- Tell him I want a moment. Pre-hearing love fest.

He's one foot in the Oval.

I'll get ten likes just for standing next to him.

Of course, but is a public show really what we want right now?

What's your plan? Lie low, eat shit?

I just don't think the Senator would be up for it... Dorsey?

I was his one-man super PAC. Held his fuckin' hair back on prom night.

He owes me. Call him.

I'll answer all his little fuckin' questions off-line.

And kill the fuckin' walrus!

Twitter-fuck. Stab him.

Let him bleed out virally.

Yeah, we'll get right on it.

- Hey. Wait a minute. Hey. Slow up a minute. Hey.

- Can I help you? - Yes. Peter Simms.

New York Daily News?

- I told you on the phone... - I know, I know.

But I had to come down in person.

Meet the man who serves the man who broke the world.

I'm sorry. I don't have anything for you.

One memo. A Post-it.

Anything that dirties his hands. Just a tiny leak.

Not 400,000 gallons.

Come on.

We both know how this looks. That bit on the yacht?

He was white-collars-up 48 hours after the news broke.

And the Harvard sweatshirt?

You know that he went to B. U. And got the boot for plagiarism.

He's not Ivy. He's weed.

I don't have anything, because there isn't anything.

Did he, help you bury a body one time?

Okay. No, look, I don't get it. Come on. Hey, hey.

Come back, come back. I just don't get it. I don't get it, that's all.

How does a guy, third in his class at Yale,

did his thesis on solar energy equity,

go from that to protecting a man like him?

Yeah. Well...

When you decide to get on the right side of history...

As soon as Dorsey lands, it's handshake, and go.

In and out, like a surgical strike.

Good. Feels like I got a red dot on my head.

Dorsey's out.

What? What do you mean, "out"?

His team just emailed, "Family health emergency."

- Let's go. - So, minor issue,

but there seems to be a crowd gathering out front.

- With pitchforks. - Shit.

Fucking Judas.

- It's a setup. - We can stay for the service.

Play the pious sinner card.

They'll double and eat us alive. Out the back?

I'll scale the roof. Just get me out

before the Holy Spirit comes down to fuck us, too.

Be back when it's secure.

You're not a spy, are you?

Sunday's no screen time.

But there's a raid that only happens today,

so I'm hiding out.

You're not, like, a spy for my mom?

I'm waiting out the paparazzi.

Scout's honor.

Cool. You could sit, if you want.

Thank you very much.

You're the altar boy?

Only on evens. My brother Mikey does the odds.

Yeah?

Humph.

So, you really bought stock in the whole brainwashing

religious propaganda thing?

Nah. I just really like to suck old priest dick.

Fuck.

We would have been best friends.

How about this?