Here and Now

I want you out.

- Did I miss the announcement? - I got one of the spots.

- And I didn't? - Well...

I got it. Oh my God. We're both going to the Portland Game Expo.

We have to build from the ground level.

I love it. What's the budget?

- It's right There. - Denied. Design a program

- for the entire state. Deal? - I think something's going on

- with you lately. - You know someone sent me a

video this morning. You can't be kind to dangerous

- people, mom. It hurts me. - I know it's scary, but try

- not to be too... - Schizophrenic?

I know you're thinking I'm just like uncle Ike.

- Hello? - She said yes.

- Congratulations. - I wanted to ask...

- Go ahead. - There is something connecting

us to something way stranger and deeper than anything we can

- possibly imagine. - Honey, you are taking your

medication, right?

I'm quitting this fucking game.

No. You can't quit the game.

The Expo is a huge professional opportunity.

But the idea of spending the next 24 hours

crunching down for glitches and bugs...

while I'm still so fucking numb with what happened with Henry...

not to mention sometimes I see shit

that's not really there. (CHUCKLES)

Fuck. Am I ever gonna feel okay again?

You will be okay, Ramon.

You are okay.

I believe in you.

I want you to think of your game,

specifically the artistry of your game,

as part of your healing process.

It's filled with such rich imagery

that I believe is very meaningful.

For example, the men with the slashed-up backs.

The meat mooks.

That's just what I call 'em.

What's weird is I found these drawings I made when I was a kid.

The meat mooks, 11:11.

Why was I drawing that shit when I was six years old?

The meat mooks.

Are they based on any historical or cultural precedent?

Not really, no. They're just...

I mean, their bloodied backs makes them look threatening, yeah, but...

they're facing away from us...

as if they were ashamed that we can see their wounds,

but they all have them.

- Are they self-inflicted? - No, no, no, no.

I always thought it was where their wings

were before they were taken away.

Oh, so they're angels.

No. No, no, no, they're just...

They're just guys who used to have wings.

They want them back, though. I know that.

And the butterfly on the wall?

Which one? There's a hundred of them.

The one that's unique.

Why did you choose that particular breed?

Because I thought it was cool.

You didn't choose it because of the 11:11 markings on its wings?

The...?

- (WHOOSHES) - (BEEPS)

Fuck me.

Oh my god. That's... that's exactly what it is. That... that's what it is.

Are you aware that the other butterflies are in nine groups of 11 each?

Yeah, yeah, but I designed that part of the game

way before I even saw that fucking number.

Are you aware...

that the street number to this building is 11 squared

and the number to this suite is 22 times 100?

I'm 22.

There are 100 butterflies in your game, Ramon.

Wait. Where are you going?

- We still have 15 minutes left. - Yeah,

and I got less than 24 hours before PGX,

and there's still a lot of work to do.

I will see you later, Fred.

- Be careful. - (DOOR OPENS, CLOSES)

"My soul is bereft of peace.

"I tell myself that my future is lost,

"as is all that I hoped from the Lord.

"As I remember my affliction and my wanderings,

- "the wormwood and the gall!" - (SOBS)

"As I dwell on these sufferings over and over...

"my soul is downcast...

- "within me." - (SOBBING)

This is the word of the Lord.

Praise be to God.

Hi.

Hey.

You're Michael's fiancée...

Emma.

Professor Boatwright.

I hope you know how much Michael loved you.

I know.

You must be devastated.

I'm so relieved I don't have to go through with the wedding. (CHUCKLES)

Michael was a different person at home,

like total rageaholic

binge drinker...

major demons.

In and out of rehab. That's where he found your book.

Some meth addict gave it to him.

The only reason I came to this fucking funeral

is because Michael's poor mom begged me to.

But...

if you felt this way

about Michael, why did... you say yes?

I had to.

Because I'm Catholic, and with the pregnancy scare...

- You're pregnant? - No. No, I thought I was,

but it was a false positive.

Thank God. Michael would've been a horrible father.

I mean, you'd know. You're a dad.

Parenting shit's hard, right?

- (SPLASHING) - (GROANING)

Hey, babe, coach wants me to run conditioning,

so you're gonna have to pick up Hailey from Jamila's.

And, uh, oh, don't forget,

tomorrow I'm biking with Duc and the boys.

Uh-huh. Sure.

Hey, this is the Bro-lympics. I really can't cancel.

Seriously? Are you still mad at me?

Nope, but I really gotta work. Okay? Bye.

What...

the fuck?

Science teacher: Various mass-extinction theories account

for the end of the Permian period,

including flood basalt eruptions,

catastrophic methane release...

GIRL (LAUGHS): Make it bigger than that.

- Hey, what the fuck are you doing? - Oh my god, run.

What the fuck? Say a word and this pic goes viral.

Fuck you. (PHONE CAMERA CLICKS)

Pig ugly bitch.

- (MOUSE CLICKS) There. You see that, right?

Dex, I didn't ask you to come here for nothing.

What the fuck is that?

So it was real?

Optically, the pixels existed, yes.

Dex, I... I didn't program that.

You probably just texture-mapped a fire particle on of your wind effects.

No, that's impossible, because the code bases are independent.

Mmm.

Well, it's gone now.

It's freaking me out, Dex.

Dude.

The probability of those pixels

being your code self-modifying

versus human error is about infinity to one.

Recompile your assets. Don't freak.

Hey.

Maybe they still think the swastika is the Sanskrit symbol for "well-being"?

I'm pretty sure that the girl who moves her mouth while reading street signs

is not familiar with Sanskrit.

We have to destroy Madison and her fucktard she-goblins.

Slippery slope.

They're all slippery, Navid.

That's why they're called slopes.

Don't take the high road.

- (CAN CLATTERS) - (BOY SHOUTS)

I set up a call with you, me, and the governor later today.

Eric and I go way back.

Eric Baugher's a fascist.

Oh. Okay. That's one opinion,

but he's the governor, and we need him.

Some notes for your pitch.

What's this?

Chicken scratch.

I have no idea what that says.

Something like, "Invent your axslayer"?

No, "Invest in your taxpayer."

"Children... with no cakes"?

- "Cost to the state." - Okay.