Mr. Robot

How do I take off a mask when it stops being a mask,

when it's as much a part of me as I am?

- 10:00 a.m. - Amen.

12:00 p.m.

Life, love...

- 2:00 p.m. - I'm Ray.

To stay as sane as possible until he's gone.

I am not to be gotten rid of!

I find you refreshing... young, bold...

exactly what we need right now.

The FBI believes that I was behind the hack.

Gideon's gonna rat you out.

Something ain't right about this guy.

Bang!

I don't trust him.

We are in a war, and they are picking us off one by one.

Tyrell Wellick and fsociety engaged in this attack.

Bonsoir, Elliott.

All right, man, explain this to me again.

Why are you taking me to an arcade?

Well, I'm trying to tell you, but you don't listen.

That's the problem with your generation...

too ADD to really take in this world.

All right, all right, break it down for me.

Well, to really get it,

I got to take you back to 1924.

Husband-and-wife team, the Bedfords,

opened up a freak show/ dwarf sanctuary

on this land you're about to be at.

Dwarf sanctuary?

Yeah, they called it the Bedford Lilliputian...

a whole miniature city

scaled down for dwarf and midget inhabitants.

I mean, they also had other freaks

like lion-faced man, limbless woman, shit like that.

But the dwarves were the big moneymaker.

Suffice to say, the Bedfords were a big hit...

lines around the corner,

the biggest attraction out here in Coney Island.

Then one year, rumor has it,

the husband wakes up one Christmas morning,

grabs a large kitchen knife, slices his wife's throat open,

stabs his little kids to death, then slits his own wrists.

- Huh. - No motive was ever determined.

God.

Cut to the 1960s.

Woman named Mary Meghan Fisher decided to buy up the place,

turned it into an old-school arcade...

pinball machines, Skee-Ball, the likes.

Called it "Games Games Games."

Shit, a bit on the nose, if you ask me, not to mention repetitive,

but at least it had clarity.

Mary Meghan even installed a little bar so she could get drunk with her friends

and shoot pool at night.

And so she did, almost every night...

till one time in '86, she got so liquored up,

she accidentally fell off the barstool

and landed hard on the pool cue she was holding.

Oh.

Went right through her neck, clean.

Killed her right on the spot.

What in the f... are you telling me this for, man?

Place remained dormant until 2000,

when Ned Bosham bought up the joint under the name

Fun Society Amusement LLC.

Ned wanted to reopen it as a classic arcade.

Now, why anyone would want to start an arcade in 2000

beats me, but Ned Bosham had it in his mind

that that's what he wanted to do, and so he did.

About a year ago, his oldest son, Harold, wanted to sell it,

but Ned wasn't down with that.

So the oldest son, Harold, being simpleminded and needing money

for whatever simpleminded folks need money for,

decided Dad had to go.

So Harold stole his twin brother's hunting rifle

and shot Dad in the face.

Now, what Harold wasn't counting on,

considering he had never fired a weapon before,

was the kickback.

It kicked back so hard, he tripped and fell

out of his dad's 20-story window.

By the time he hit the ground, his head opened up

like one of those Gallagher watermelons.

All this commotion stirred awake his twin brother, Clyde,

who, as he told it to me, was in his bedroom

catching some Zs when all this went down.

By the time he got his bearings,

he was immediately arrested for the double homicide

of his brother and father,

being the weapon was in his name.

And how do you know Clyde?

He was my cellmate.

This place made him crazy.

He thinks it's cursed.

Yeah. No shit, Sherlock.

Before I left the clink, he gave me the keys to the joint

and made me swear to burn it down

before it caused any more ruckus.

He swears it's haunted...

believes it is the nexus of all evil in the universe.

You buy into any of this shit?

F... no, man.

I'm too broke to be superstitious.

In a way, all this hocus-pocus keeps things clean

for whatever it is you need to do.

The public records are in limbo.

People down in county don't even want to touch the place.

I'm siphoning electricity from the grid.

As far as anyone's concerned, it don't exist.

Now, on the market, this joint would run you

about 5 grand a month, but since it's you,

I'll give it to your guy for half.

Come on, Mobley, don't give me that look, man.

You know how hard it is for an ex-con to get a job.

Money's tight,

especially with my mom's cataracts.

The bills are adding up.

I'm not here to rent from you, Romero.

I want you to work with us.

Oh, hell no, man. I just got out.

I ain't trying to go back no time soon.

Just hear my guy out, okay?

We need a phreaker.

Now, you know you're the best in the game.

Don't try to sweet-talk me, motherf... er.

I don't need you to tell me who's the best in the game.

I invented the shit, okay?

Now, either you're renting, or I'm finding somebody else,

but I cannot get mixed up in whatever it is you're doing.

Man, this is a chance to get back at the system

that stole six years of your life.

This is a game changer, man.

Who's this guy, again?

He's, uh... he's a little weird.

But, uh, he's gonna love this place.

He's got a thing for Coney Island.

You'll like him.

Actually, you'll hate him.

But he's a genius.

Best coder I've ever met.

And he wants to meet you.

How much?

Aw, don't smile. I ain't said yes yet.

Money's gonna be the deciding factor in all this,

and it's gonna need to be a whole lot to bring me back in.

That's the thing, man.

In a way,

this pays everything.

What happened to the U and the N?

Oh, that?

That's a story for another time.

Panic. Here it comes again.

Remember?

That sudden sensation of fear,

overwhelming fear,

burrowing its way underneath my brain,

making itself at home...

Nesting...

Screaming in my mind.

It's good to hear your voice.

Where are you?

Not yet where I'm supposed to be.

But soon, very soon.

Protestors are taking to the street in massive numbers,

and police and community leaders

are at a loss as to what to do at this point,

citing that...

And where is that?

I don't think that's a good idea.

You think someone's listening?

Don't tell me you're having second thoughts.

You don't want me to have to worry about you.

I need to know what's going on.

It's not safe.

I wish it were.

Oh, how I wish.

How I wish.

I think about you a lot, Elliot.

I think about that night

when we became gods.

That night...

I want to know what happened.

Tell me what happened.

Like he said, it's not safe,

not on the phone.

I'm not gonna let you make me a prisoner

of my own paranoia again.

If you're not paranoid,

you need me more than you think you do.

We had a deal.

You wanted to talk to him.

I delivered.

It's not my fault he's loony tunes.

He really expects me to believe this?

Did we really talk to the most wanted man on the planet?

Why the f... are you asking them?

You heard him. You talked to him.

I talk to you too.

What do you want, huh?

We had a deal. I delivered!