The Horror of Dolores Roach

And I don't know how many times I told you

that I can't stop.

But I'm gonna miss you.

And I was obsessed with that true crime podcast

about Dolores, but I couldn't imagine it

being done like this. She's such an unlikable character.

I mean, I almost understand why she did it all...

- almost. - But you gave her

such humanity, you made her a real person.

I really appreciate it.

I had to really crawl inside her skin

to pull the rabbit out of this hat.

Ugh, let me tell you something,

this shit is heavy.

Gonna be ready to be done with her real soon.

Done? This stuff is, like, blowing up.

I can't go a day without seeing

- 20 posts about the girl. - Did you see that thing

this morning about the cafe in Taipei

serving human flesh dumplings?

Yes, yes, yes, yes, and the human bone marrow

in that bistro in Paris.

- That's got to be her, right? - Facts.

The real Dolores is still out there.

Mm-mm. No.

Ooh, car's here.

Are you coming to the "partay"?

Am I coming to the party? Of course.

I just have to wash... I just have to wash

- this blood. - Congratulations.

You were so brilliant.

- Thank you for coming. Thank you so much. - See you there.

- See you later. Thank you. - I love you.

- Love you, too. Bye. - Bye.

Ooh, don't be scared.

It's just me.

I'm not the monster you're making me out to be, seriously.

I'm just like you,

if everything went wrong.

- I thought you were... - Dead?

Yeah, I know you did,

and that would be pretty convenient for you, huh?

'Cause you're just throwing my name around,

making me fucking famous

for all the wrong reasons.

Making everybody money,

except me.

Wh-What happened to your hand?

My hand?

I thought you crawled inside my skin.

You missed that part in your little "research,"

huh?

Are...

are you gonna kill me?

No.

No.

Worse.

I'm gonna tell you shit

you could never un-know.

Shit you can't wash off.

And then...

...you're gonna help me.

- I'm-I'm-I'm gonna help you? - Yeah.

How?

By setting the fucking record straight.

'Cause, see,

I was never some blood-hungry sociopath

people say I am.

I was just some chick in Washington Heights.

Washington Heights, back in the day,

best years of my life.

You remember those years after 9/11, when everybody

was trying to come together and love and shit.

But it was still Giuliani time, you know?

And the city was cracking down hard... on some of us.

There's your house in Hoboken, baby.

Dominic was the king of this block.

So, all right, you, uh, you got some customers?

Yeah.

And for those five years,

I was his queen.

I loved that man so fucking much

I would've done anything for him,

and I did.

Antonio? You here?

Oh, can you just...

stay right there, though, please?

Dominic said this guy's

gonna buy a shit ton of weed.

Freeze.

Hands in the air.

Dominic Arfonso.

I never heard of him.

Dominic?

- Dominic, can... - We're sorry.

You have reached a number that has been

disconnected or is no...

If you feel you have reached this recording in...

- We're sorry. - Dominic...

- You have reached a number that has been disconnected. - Dominic!

Sixteen years they locked my ass up.

Sixteen years

at New York State Correctional

for possession with intent

and assaulting a cop.

Sixteen years in a cell with a handless masseuse from Philly.

My girl Tabitha.

And then, one morning, in 2019...

...they gave me back my clothes

that I was wearing when they took me.

They gave me $200 in gate money and a train ticket.

And they dropped me off at the train station,

like they're doing me a favor.

With all these suburban motherfuckers

who probably think I deserved what I got.

This is the train to Grand Central. Tickets.

- Tickets, tickets. - Oh.

- Ah... Yeah. Yeah, I got it. - Tickets.

- Here. - That's your receipt.

Oh, I'm sorry. Oh.

First stop in Manhattan,

Harlem-125th Street. Harlem-125th Street.

Oh, my God.

My New York City.

So I start walking north

to the only place in the world

there might be a bed for me tonight.

'Cause I got no family left.

Both of my parents died when I was still in school.

Dominic's the one who took me in after that.

I mean, I know he must've moved on by now,

but I protected his ass for 16 years.

He owes me a place to stay.

Here we go. Washington Heights.

What the fuck?

It's gentrified.

Okay, not totally gentrified.

If the closest thing to family I had isn't here,

I'm gonna need a miracle.

What the fuck is this shit?

Hello?

Hi. Hello? Hi, is-is, uh, Dominic there?

Who?

Does Dominic still live here?

Um, I don't know him. Sorry.

Hello?

- I never used to mind these five flights in my 20s. - Ugh. Okay...

Hi.

Hi. Look, I'm so sorry.

Um, I used to live here.

And I would have never let nobody up, either.

This is totally inappropriate of me.

But I just got out... of the country.

I've been out for 16 years, and I'm just, like, praying

that my boyfriend might still live here,

or you might know... Oh, hi.

- Hi, thanks. - You don't know where your boyfriend lives?

Um...

I guess he's not my boyfriend anymore, huh?

- Babe! - It's fine.

- Babe, I got this. - You know what? I'm so sorry.

So embarrassing.

But do you have, like, a tampon?

- Oh, uh... - Or anything, anything.

I'm just trying real hard

not to bleed on your floor out here.

No, no, no. Uh...

- Thank you. - Come on. Uh, it's just under

the-the sink in there.

Tile behind the toilet.

Please, God.

- Did you let in a fucking Jehovah's Witness? - Shh!

Come on, come on.

Fuck.

Yes.

Fuck.

I must've known it'd all be gone by now.

I'm not stupid.

But I had to see for myself.

There's your house in Hoboken, baby.

He left me to rot.

The one person I had left in the world.

You left me to rot.

You fucking...

You fucking left me to fucking rot!

You left me to fucking... you fucking...

You left me to fucking rot.

Oh, my God.

Hey, are you okay in there?

Yeah, I'm okay. Yeah, I'm-I'm okay, thank you.

I am not okay.

- So we were thinking... - I'm so sorry.

I think I had a little incident

with your shower curtain in there.

When did you move in here?

- To this place? - Uh, last June.

Right. Uh, do you guys know who used to live here before?

- Nope. - What about the landlord?

Can I have the landlord's number?

- Mm, no. The building was sold about a year ago. - Yeah.