Doom Patrol

Here we go. Better late than never, right?

You know, I had this whole plan laid out in case you asked me out again.

I was gonna be all sweet and be like,

"Sure, I'd love to."

And then ditch your ass.

Okay, so what happened?

You asked.

From now on...

From now on, let's just ease up.

Let's just see where this thing goes.

I like that.

Great.

Let's do it.

Let's see where this thing goes.

Oh, you got a little schmutz right there...

Lethal engagement mode activated.

Grid, wait, wait.

This is fun. I'm glad we did this.

Grid, Grid, Grid, no, stop. Grid, stop. No, no, no...

Oh, Roni.

What the hell, man?

Sorry to disturb your night terror.

It wasn't a night terror.

Spooky wet dream, then. Whatever.

You seen a videotape?

It was in my room.

No.

Why? What was on it?

The Chief confessing to all the horrific shit he's put me through.

Whoa!

Guess that's the new normal around here. Hmm.

Uh, excuse me.

Did either of you come across a tape?

It's good to be here, with you again, Jane.

Like old times.

It's not like old times.

It can never be like old times.

The stuff that Josh Clay gave me is gone.

Really gone.

Are you experiencing any withdrawal symptoms?

Is being a pathetic piece of shit a withdrawal symptom?

I could see it running out...

when I wasn't obliterated out of my fucking mind.

I thought about what I would do next.

What else could I shoot up or snort to just...

I'm the only one who can be primary and I fucked up.

They're all angry at me.

- You did what you needed. - Fuck what I need.

It's not about me. It's about her.

We could start over.

Why don't we begin with drawing out a new map of the Underground?

Get a proper lay of the land,

and figure out each persona's wants and needs.

Baby Doll.

Oh, my God. Go away! You're a bad man and a liar!

My darling, you are the last person

in the entire world that I would ever want to hurt.

But you're right. I'm bad...

and selfish...

and I'm sorry.

If you'd give me a chance, I'd try and be better.

- I hate you. - Oh, my poor, poor thing.

Everything hurts. My... My face hurts,

and my throat hurts,

and my head feels like bees.

I feel so... I feel so lonely.

And I'm already lonely all the time.

There must be something I can do to make those tears go away.

Baby Doll.

This is Dorothy.

I love your pigtails.

I like yours.

Is this your room?

Oh, my gosh.

Everything is so pretty...

and so fluffy!

- I'm sorry, um... - It's okay.

You can play with him if you like.

- What's his name? - Constable Cork.

And this is Mallory.

Wow.

This is Frank and Ramona. They're married.

Attention, shoppers.

Don't miss our in-store special on fertilizer.

Check out aisle five and stock up today.

Excuse me.

I'm looking for a Mickey Harris.

You found her. How can I help?

Oh, well, actually, I'm here to help you.

This article says the Cloverton Community Players are holding auditions,

and we should contact the director.

Writer-director.

I beg your pardon?

I'm the writer and the director

for the Cloverton Community Players, and this paper's old.

- Auditions were yesterday. - Ah!

Well, Miss Harris, I can see that you're a busy person,

what with your writing and directing and assistant-managing.

I would never dream of wasting your time.

Trust me, this will be more than worth it.

Okay, let's go.

Let's go.

Here?

On aisle three?

I assume you've prepared a monologue.

Of course.

I can't bear it.

They're so young and beautiful.

Why did they ever have to get old?

Mama, I'm here.

I'm grown-up.

Mama.

Just... look at me.

One minute...

- Clean-up on aisle five. - Like you really saw me.

I'm sorry. Sorry, could we just try again?

- Mickey, price check, aisle six. - That's me, hon.

I think we're good.

Rita '84.

Battle of the Network Stars. Hmm, Jane/Mama Pentecost...

Where the fuck is that dumb, shit-ass fucking tape?

The fuck?

Looking for something?

- What the hell is all this? - Possible upgrades,

brainstorms, I'm not entirely sure yet.

Upgrades? For me?

Like Cyborg type of shit?

Well, it was a thought, yes,

but what Victor Stone has isn't what Cliff Steele needs.

How would you feel about regaining more human aspects of your body?

Which human aspects?

I'd like to give you a somatosensory system.

A sense of... touch.

And this psycho shit's your idea for me to become more human?

No. God, no.

That sketch, all of those sketches are just musings.

Bad ideas, excrement that I have to...

pass before I can hopefully lay the golden egg.

Is this just a trick?

Trying to buy some time off from me hating you,

or can you really pull this off?

Because false hope is the last thing I need, Chief.

After everything we've been through,

I think we're past tricks.

But I do need to ask for your patience.

To see this to fruition will take years.

Decades, maybe.

Do you even have decades?

Right. Patience.

What are you up to?

Are you ordering food?

Can I see a menu?

I just made a date to see my son, Paul.

Sounds promising.

We're going to clean out my dead son's house.

Sounds unnerving.

He's trying to get rid of it and move on.

I figured helping him is the least I could do.

When he asked who was calling, I said Larry Trainor.

I didn't know what else to say.

At least you said something.

All thing considered, you're having a far better day than me.

You auditioned.

My mouth opened. Words came out.

But I don't know if I'd call it an audition

any more than I'd call myself an actor.

How about you make that drink to go?

Cliff.

Hi, Cliffie.

How are you, Cliff?

Top shelf.

So are you two running buddies now?

Two little masters of disaster? Nice.

Yes, siree. We're very close friends.

Hey.

Those two are just cuter than shit.

Man, you missed out on a killer tea party.

What?

What?

B-A-B-Y D-O-L-L.

Who's the best? Baby Doll!

Do you want me to make you a song?

I'm really good at it.

D-O-R-Y... No, wait.

D-O-R-O-T-E-E. Dorotee!

Why don't we sit down for a bit?

No, no. The grass is lava.

- I'm tired. - Oh, no, don't be tired.

We'll play something else.

Tag!

Pirate ship. Arr!

Pirate ship?

An infant game for infant girls.

Oh, now you're talking to me.

I thought I told you, I'm not a grown-up.

Quick. You have to spin.

If you don't spin, the world will explode.

I win, I win!

I'm the greatest spinning machine. Whoa!

I feel your vexation, dear one.