SurrealEstate

Who’s a good client?

-Come back to ASDRA, August. Come back to me.

-Susan, I desperately need some career advice!

Help me.

You seen Zooey?

She went to see Susan.

I’m going to see my mom.

What’s new?

All this time and you still don’t care.

Do you still hear the voices?

- These days? Not so much.

Yeah, yeah. Zooey’s okay.

I’m just leaving the hospital now.

Pardon me, Miss?

You okay?

I’m looking for my mom.

Where’d you leave her?

We were arguing

and then this big white car came out of nowhere and--

-You’ve been waiting here a while, huh?

-I just keep thinking she’ll be here.

If I keep coming back, she’ll be here.

But nobody will talk to me!

They just walk past me like I’m not there.

Except you. You’re different.

-You know what your mom would want you to do, right?

We argue a lot.

Doesn’t matter.

She loves you.

I guess.

Things with moms is:

even if she’s not, like, there to say it,

doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.

She wants the best for you. Always.

And the best for you...

just isn’t here anymore.

You go ahead.

You cross.

Joiti. Joiti.

There’s someone in the house!

Okay, yeah.

Just, uh, stay in bed.

I am going to check it out.

Um...

Hey! Hey! Hey!

Uh, you better get outta here!

Hey!

I’m six-foot-four and 240 pounds

of a pissed-off homeowner.

Hey, I’m holding a blade!

Oh, God, it’s so sharp

it could cut a tomato

into, like, really thin slices!

Ohhh...

You got to the count of three

to get your punk ass outta here.

One!

Two!

Please don’t make me do this!

What, funny? Really? You find this funny?

Oh, you’re so sweet.

-Jo, what the hell is happening? Stop!

Stop! Hey, stop!

What was that?

What’s this?

It’s a baseball bat, dumbass.

It was his.

-What’s it doing here? -I don’t know.

-It’s mine and it’s ready to go all lemonade on your ass!

-So, this is going into the pile with the rest of his stuff.

Jo, what the shit is going on?

Who is this guy? What is happening?

I know. Just be patient.

It’s hard for me, too.

Hard for you?

Listen to me! Talk to me!

I get it. I know it’s hard

but that’s why we have to do this, right? We have to move on.

-Move on -- yes! Out of my house, out of my life!

Stop! Stop! Stop!

-Let’s go to bed. -Okay.

What?

Jo?

Jo, what the hell? Talk to me.

Now you’re cut off.

- I didn’t even have that much.

What’s it doing here?

So, this is going into the pile with the rest of his stuff.

Just be patient.

-What? What? What? - I know it’s hard

but that’s why we have to do this, right?

What?

What? What?

We have to move on.

Let’s go to bed.

Nas?

What the--?

How is she?

-Zooey is bruised and she is bleeding

and she is mad as a wet cat, but she’s gonna be okay.

August is taking her home.

What about Susan?

That is the question, yeah.

-Okay, well, listen, I’m gonna keep digging here,

but we need those bank records to get a full picture.

-I’ll settle for a snapshot. Anything you can find

about the house! Who built it, who lives there.

Okay, okay. I’m on it.

You okay?

-Susan is in there. I know it.

Well, how can you know?

The voices? The power, it’s all back?

It was my mom.

I touched her hand and it was like

plugging into a 12-gauge speaker wire.

-How... How could that work?

What am I, a scientist?

-What about your dad? Have you seen him?

-No, I haven’t had time and now Susan’s stuck in there

with God knows what and we need to get her out!

What are you gonna do?

-I’m gonna go see a house about a lady.

- When we first moved in there was a half-wall here

that just didn’t work and a hideous green accent wall.

It was horrible.

-Well, it feels very open. Great job.

Thank you.

It wasn’t me, though.

My husband was good at this stuff.

He even picked all the colors.

He really made this house into something special.

-Well, he did. And it is.

Okay, so you are competing with four other houses

-in a three-block radius. -Okay.

I checked them out and they’re

just about as exciting as underwear for Christmas.

The work you did is going to pay off huge in terms of

a faster sale and a higher price.

-My first husband did all the work.

He was the one with the vision.

The talent.

And he died.

I died?

I am sorry for your loss.

-Zayan poured his heart and soul into this house.

He called it our "forever home."

- "Until we can afford something better."

I met Nasser earlier this year.

We married in early October

and a couple months ago we decided...

it was time for us to move on.

Too many memories?

Zayan had a heart thing.

They called it an...

aortic dissection.

It killed him so young.

And that just killed me.

For months I stumbled through everything.

Numb.

Then Nasser brought me back to life.

So...

let’s get this place sold

and find something new and wonderful ’cause

Nasser really deserves a fresh start.

I don’t disagree.

Hm.

You should probably know what happened last night.

Whoa.

Well, nice to meet you, too.

Looks like we got something to talk about.

So, let’s talk.

-Look, I feel bad that he died so young.

It’s just that, you know, we have our own life, too.

But don’t get me wrong, it’s a great house.

Except it was their house.

You know, I want to live somewhere that’s our house.

Understandable.

-See, this is exactly the type of thing

that makes me think that maybe Joiti’s not on board

with all this. Excuse me. Joiti?

-Yeah, babe? -D’you unpack all these boxes?

-No, I didn’t touch your precious boxes.

-I thought we agreed that we were gonna donate all this crap.

-You agreed. I got tired of arguing.

Uh, what was in them?

Oh, just all of his old shit.

-You gotta be kidding me. -What?

-I spent all day yesterday packing these.

I was gonna take ’em to Salvation Army.

-And what are they doing here? -You didn’t put it back here?

-No. -Oh, then who did?

I did, bitches!

-Are you calling me a liar?

-Clearly I like to pack things just to unpack ’em.

I’m not an idiot, Joiti.

-Ah, let’s put a pin in that.

-Wait! Joiti! I was just--

No, let’s just talk about this, please?

Ahh...

Oh.