Episode #1.1

The butcher, the banker The drummer and then

Makes no difference what group I'm in

Let's pick up the pace, fellas. Clear all this stuff on out of here.

Yo, Rico! Get moving.

There is a blue one Who can't accept the green one

For living with a fat one Trying to be a skinny one

Different strokes for different folks

And so on, and so on And scooby, dooby, dooby

Who the fuck is Charles Guiteau?

Guido, Gui, Gui… Guiteau?

Guiteau.

-That's French, isn't it? -Only by name, sir.

I'm as American as any man.

Born in Illinois, er, Michigan, Wisconsin, New York.

Hmm, so you've uprooted often then.

I go where the opportunity leads.

You sit before us today

having been found guilty of false pretenses.

It was a misunderstanding.

Um, an honest mix-up between tenant and landlord.

And evading your arrest as well.

That's not how I recollect it.

We have a letter from your father.

From my father?

He says you've long been estranged.

That you were occupied upstate

with the Oneida free love colony.

Well, he'd be mistaken.

The suggestion alone is ludicrous.

To speak candidly on behalf of the panel, Mr. Guiteau,

you seem to us a liar and a fraud.

We fail to see how you've served

as anything more than a drain on good society.

A drain?

A drain on good society?

That's, well…

No, that's not right.

That's not how this is-- this is supposed to go.

No, sir, uh, you, you sit there and you ask me to prove my worth.

Well, let me tell you.

I sit now in the same position as any one of our forbearers.

Are we not a nation built wholly

from rogues and migrants and freethinkers?

Isn't that the whole point of this thing?

Here and only here, a man can be anyone.

He can amass a fortune. He can influence millions through--

through words or action, his-- his name ringing down through the ages.

Not a drain, no.

Not a drain but a credit.

Hell… under the right conditions,

he might even be made president.

I'll be glad when you're dead You rascal, you

When you're dead

And in your grave No more women will you crave

I'll be glad when you're dead You rascal, you

I'll be oh, so glad When you're dead, you rascal, you

I'll be so glad when you're dead You rascal, you

I'll be standing on a corner full of gin When they bring your dead body in

I'll be glad when you're dead You rascal, you

-Hey, Dad. -Yeah?

Mom says it's breakfast.

Just a couple more.

Hey, Mollie.

What would you say to a new bedroom?

One you didn't have to share with two younger brothers?

I'd be overjoyed, in theory.

But seeing as it's taking you nearly a month to build a picnic table…

Hey, now, that's not just any table.

That's a feat of modern engineering.

Right. Like your, uh, irrigation dam that flooded Mom's garden with sewage.

I might have flown too close to the sun on that one.

Oh.

I didn't hear you come in last night.

He was where we left him. Working away on his table like a madman.

No great wisdom has been without a touch of madness.

-Well, good morning! -Hey!

Good morning. Good morning. Good morning.

Show of hands, who would like their eggs poached?

-I'll take our soft-boiled, Dad. -Uh, I'll take mine poached, actually.

-Pancakes. -Pancakes.

Oh.

-Mollie. -Good morning, Joe.

I hope I'm not interrupting a family meal.

I'm just here to drop off mail. Letter for the congressman.

-From John Sherman. -General Sherman's little brother?

And the treasury secretary.

Says he's gonna run for president.

He wants me to nominate him at the convention next week.

The party refuses to reelect Hayes.

They want their weight behind a different candidate.

Not Grant again.

Grant's very popular.

The public still sees the man who won the war.

They turn a blind eye to the scandals.

And New York has its claws in him.

They parade him around their banquets like some puffed-up old totem.

That's no way to talk about a war hero.

And you would be there to… to give a speech?

I'm sure I'm not the first he's asked.

Any politician with aspirations would be crazy to go up against New York.

Mm-hmm.

But he knows my ambitions are more earthbound.

-A perfect man to throw to the wolves. -Mm-hmm.

So what's that twinkle in your eye?

-Oh. -It's a few light reads from your pile.

I can't have you falling behind.

Very considerate.

Whatever you do out there, don't forget this.

You have my word, darling, I swear.

Mm.

All right.

Franny?

Franny?

Charlie!

Franny!

You have no idea how glad I was to know that you were safe.

This business is bad for my health, and I ought to settle down

and put in the work and earn my way rightly.

And no more habits.

Well, you have a room at our house for as long as you need it. You know that.

And perhaps George could see

if there's a clerkship open in the patent office for you.

Patent law is a business for those who lack their own ideas.

I'm sure I can never be fulfilled there.

But look, I have a new concept.

It's a newspaper format.

And it's something good, something honest.

Something that will give voice to the common man.

The Daily Theocrat.

-That's a nice name, Charlie. -I know what you're thinking.

But I still have a few friends left in Chicago.

Men who maybe see value in such a thing, and if I can amass the seed funds…

And of course, I would need my sister to run the arts page.

But that's… I mean, that's ridiculous.

I haven't picked up a brush since I was a teenage girl.

And it was your dream, wasn't it?

-Welcome to Chicago, Congressman. -Thank you.

-What is that stench that hurts so bad? -Uncle Charlie!

-Oh! What's that disgusting stench? -Uncle Charlie!

I'm coming to get ya!

I can smell…

Charles.

Hello, darling.

How's the patent game, George?

Good.

I'm sure you're curious why I'd ask you to speak on my behalf.

Well, I saw you once on the floor of the House

before you left for Ohio.

How you talked, how they listened to you.

Mr. Sherman, I can assure you I'm no different than any other man.

Oh, don't be modest. You're a fighter.

You survived the river of death.

My brother talks about how you boldly shirked your general's orders,

how you rode headlong into rebel fire.

You helped save Tennessee for the Union.

Oh, that's too generous.

There was no heroism in it.

-I was moving on impulse. -But for a greater good.

You're not afraid to do what's right.

Hm.

Listen.

I'm under no illusions about my prospects. I'm gonna lose.

But we might at least be able to push the party toward reform,

lest we yield to the majority view

that two terms' worth of Grant's grift and corruption merit another.

Hmm.

Two-thirds of all federal revenue flows through the port of New York.

Roscoe Conkling, he controls New York.

He's got the party by the balls.

And I guarantee you that within a week,

he will have Grant selling offices to the highest bidder.

But if his is the popular will…

Is it?

Thank you.

Hello, sir.

My name is Charles Guiteau, and I'd like to apply for a credit loan.

Oh, no.

I remember you, sir.

It may have been four or five years past, but I remember you clear as day.

You must have me confused with some other patron.

I have never been to this establishment.

Yes, you certainly have.

You're the gentleman that threw the paperweight.

That doesn't sound quite right. I'm sure I'd recall--

Well, that was clearly a throw performed by a right-handed man,

and I am a lefty.

This bank wouldn't know a sound investment from a copper penny!

And I feel sorry for you, most of all.

Oh!

Get to walking.

Mr. President!

President Grant!

President Grant!

Mr. President! President Grant!

President Grant! Mr. President!

Oh, forgive me!

I'm one of your biggest boosters, sir.

All my life, I've been following your career with great interest,

and I would like to… Sir!

Oh, Senator Conkling, sir!