American Gods

I just need to get to Cairo.

-Get in. -Never did catch your name.

Sam Black Crow.

Where the fuck is Wednesday?

You blew up a bar in order to get yourself

committed to a mental institution.

And your little plan to free Demeter...

She was my wife.

You won't last a week.

I last a week,

you give me one night.

I'll take that bet.

Is Sweeney alive?

I don't know where the Jinn is or why he left.

Why don't you come with me and help me track down Wednesday?

-And do what? -Kill him.

What's the latest on the case?

Three more break-ins since Alison went missing,

some sicko is stealing ladies' unmentionables...

Wait, wait, wait! Wait, wait!

The hell's wrong with you?

Bilquis fucked me up.

Hey, stranger.

The story of America is one of destiny.

Freed from the tyranny of a cruel king,

a powerful new republic was born.

Divine guidance was required to show

these now United States of America

the just and righteous application

of its newly acquired power.

So who better to shepherd a country

baptized in blood than a war god? Tyr.

Make that two war gods,

one a more natural leader than the other.

Both gods knew full well, where there's war,

there's money.

Odin, the more ambitious of the two,

sought power and influence.

Trust me, my dear friend.

This is just the first of many wars to come.

The greatest army ever to march into battle

has just been skunked by a bunch of farmers,

tradesmen, and women.

The world would do well to take heed.

A nation in love with war and money.

You are indeed home, my brother.

For my part, I'm elated Cornwallis finally surrendered.

I have some personal business to attend to.

Oh? A woman?

A goddess.

Before you ask, the answer is yes.

I will help you woo her.

But... after centuries of warring and wooing,

for, after all, Odin had bedded many a goddess in his day...

Ah...

-Nothing could have prepared him for the moment...

when he first saw her.

Dearest Gladys.

Demeter. -Dear sir.

She of the Grain.

Giver of Life.

Goddess of Nourishment.

Do come in.

Mr. Wednesday?

Hank.

Oh.

You missed your dinner.

-Are you off your food? -Ha.

Okay, there's a, uh, evening snack downstairs in the common room.

I'm there.

Hey, do me a favor?

Take all this up to my room, huh?

Okay. What is all this?

My masterpiece.

To dine with the Goddess of the Grain is to feast upon divinity itself.

-May I? -Oh, yes.

-You may sit, Ofnir. -Elsa...

I've just been looking at your watercolors in the art room.

Exquisite technique.

They remind me of a young Georgia O'Keeffe,

except your pictures,

they look more like flowers.

What are you really doing here?

-You're not even sick. -Oh!

Oh, now, it's not for us

to judge the affliction of others.

Some maladies are...

apparent on the surface, but others... Oh!

They hide like...

black rot deep in the soul.

-Tea? -Oh, please. No sugar.

Oh, I'm sure this place does wonders for some people.

It's just that I do worry what happens

to vibrant souls locked away

from life's pleasures.

Oh, I think you're about to find out.

Hank.

-Mr. Wednesday. -Hmm.

Need to talk to you.

Oh.

Oh.

What?

Carry on without me, ladies, huh?

You needn't worry about me.

I have everything under control.

Mr. Wednesday, I have to believe

that this is contributing to your psychotic break.

Well, the old girl's still on her game, huh?

Technically, I'm supposed to cavity search you now.

Hank, nothing in my keister but the usual.

I'm not a pill guy, huh?

Liftoff for me is a flagon or two of mead.

No, this is part of the time-honored tradition

of Le Jeu D'Amour, hmm?

Good evening.

Mr. Wednesday? I just wanted to let you know that... Oh!

-Hey, Liz. -Hank, I'm sorry.

-I didn't realize-- -No. It's all right. No.

-Hey. -Hi.

Uh, so, five-minute warning for the pottery class.

Oh. Uh, Elizabeth teaches pottery.

-Oh. -Here.

Yes, sir.

Uh, I studied ceramics at Bennington.

Oh, you did? I didn't know that.

Oh...

Anyway, so, yeah.

Uh, five, yeah. Minutes.

Okay.

-Uh, as I was saying, controlled substances

-are strictly prohibited... -Lucky for you,

Cupid appears to have flown in circles

because you two have been struck dumb.

What are you talking about?

Two passionately like-minded

mental health professionals

find each other in this looney bin? Ha!

What are the chances, huh?

Hold up. Are you saying...

You think she's into me?

Well, anybody who would endure that mindless jibber-jabber,

repay you in kind, smiling throughout,

is either smitten or an imbecile.

I guarantee that flower of womanhood is not an imbecile.

No, hell... hell, no.

You heard her. She went to Bennington.

No, definitely out of my league.

I barely squeaked through community college.

No. No. No.

Hank.

Allow me to be your Cyrano.

Your spirit guide out of Lonelytown.

Okay, Mr. Wednesday, if you're such a Don Juan,

why did Miss Wells slap you in the face

the moment she saw you?

Oh, a visceral reaction can be an outpouring

of unbridled devotion as well as animus.

I guess.

Hank, the art of love is to be passed on

to worthy lovers and those worthy of love.

Are you worthy, Hank?

I think so?

I think so too.

I don't need drugs.

I am drugs.

I mean, it's a lot.

You know, to get my head around.

Yeah, no shit.

You haven't even died once.

But the good news is, no more flies.

When I look in the mirror now,

I no longer see a member of the sturgeon family

looking back at me, so...

It's a definite upgrade.

But the agenda's still the same.

I'm not asking you to help me.

I just wanna know where he is.

So you can kill him.

It kinda qualifies for aiding and abetting.

Well, it's not like he doesn't deserve it.

And I'm not saying he's a saint...

Right. Because that would be insane.

But you get a second second chance

coming back from the great... whatever,

and number one on your to-do list is killing Wednesday?

Can you not just think about moving on?

Are you saying I should just roll over and accept the fact

that Wednesday is responsible for...

every shitty everything ever and he just gets to walk away?

But how does killing Wednesday change any of that?

Well, for starters,

it prevents him from doing any more damage.

I can't tell you where he is.

Jesus Christ, Shadow,

what has he ever done to earn your loyalty?

Just tell me one thing.

I...

He's my father.

Oh... 'kay.

Wow, uh...