American Horror Story

Hillary. Hillary, wake up.

I'm sorry.

For what?

Seven.

So beautiful.

- How many times are you gonna say that?

- Well, it just keeps hitting me.

- Yeah? You say it again,

something else is gonna start hitting you.

Eight.

I think it's a little creepy.

- Okay, well, you know, creepy can be beautiful.

Spoken like a true writer.

Nine.

- What do you keep counting, sweetheart?

Roadkill.

What?

They're all over the road.

I saw a raccoon and a possum

and one that I think was a cat.

It's weird how it's more sad when a cat gets run over

than a raccoon does.

Ten.

Oh, no.

Oh.

Stay here a second.

- I wanna see. - Uh-uh, honey.

Is it dead?

Very.

Well, don't touch it.

You don't want to get Lyme.

Okay.

Pretty.

Okay, I'll take it.

- You excited? - Mm-hmm.

- Ah, you must be the Gardeners.

- Hi. - We are, hi.

Welcome to Provincetown

or P-town, as we call it. - Mm.

- You know, the pilgrims landed here

before they landed in Plymouth.

- Mm. - Huh?

I'm Martha. - Hi.

- I manage the house for the Browns.

Come on in.

It looks haunted.

- Every house in Provincetown is haunted, sweetheart.

It's the ghosts of all the old whalers

drowned at sea.

It's so quiet.

- Summer population is 60,000.

This time of year,

it bleeds down to a little less than three.

I actually prefer it like this.

I rent my place out a bunch in the summer--

head out to the Berkshires--

especially during Bear Week.

Septic systems in town back up a lot during Bear Week.

So you're a screenwriter?

- Yeah. - Anything I would have seen?

- Um, I've written on a few TV shows.

- Uh-huh? - Uh,

network procedurals, mostly. - Ah.

He's, uh,

writing a pilot while we're out here, though.

- Oh, I hope you're not planning on, uh,

changing too much about the place.

Browns gave me free rein

to change whatever I want, so...

- Well-- - Well, within the budget.

- Right. It's her first big job.

- Yeah, it's sort of a-- a second career for me.

I was a schoolteacher for a long time, but...

The Browns, they saw my Instagram account...

- It's very good. - And offered us

three months free at the house in exchange for redecorating.

Aha!

A little fiddle player.

We got a nice little orchestra at the middle school.

She's homeschooled.

- Well, all you really need to know...

- Mm-hmm. - Is to keep

a lot of booze stocked.

- Okay.

- Uh, make sure the windows are closed up tight...

In case a nor'easter rolls in.

Uh, don't go swimming near the seals.

Not that you would-- the water's near freezing.

Oh, and don't try and imitate a Boston accent.

Huh? -

- - All right.

Thank you, Martha.

Thank you.

Enjoy.

- Bye-bye. - Bye.

I'm gonna go find my room.

Are they all gonna be

so weird?

- Oh, God, I hope so. - No.

- I need all the inspiration I can get.

I think I'll unload later

and I'll go hit the market for supplies right now.

Mm, you mean the "mahket."

- Right, the "mahket." - It's the "mahket."

Shh, she's listening.

- Can't believe we're doing this.

I never thought I'd get you out of the city.

I know.

I'm really proud of us.

This is the perfect place for you

to work without distraction

and for me to get some real experience.

I think it's gonna be fun.

Me too.

Like a babymoon.

- Mm. Okay.

Bye.

- Get the fuck out of here, fucker!

Out of this town!

They're gonna munch on your balls!

All right, Karen.

That's enough crazy for one day.

Go outside and scream at a tree or the bay or something.

- Jesus, Karen! Get out, okay?

You're not allowed to die in here.

- Go fuck yourself, motherfucker.

Get out of this town!

Get out!

Tell him, Mikey.

We call her Tuberculosis Karen.

- I don't think she actually has TB,

just smokes, uh, three packs a day.

She's a nutter, but she's harmless.

- Well, I'm from New York City.

It takes a lot nuttier than that to faze me.

I'm Mikey.

This is my place. - Hi.

Harry Gardener.

I know.

Mr. Hollywood.

My sister is the Browns' house manager.

- Oh. - Just let me know

if you need me to order you anything special,

uh, organic, uh, fruit or kale

or, uh, oat milk.

Alma!

Honey,

you know I love your playing.

But can you help me out here?

I-I-I only have three months to finish this project.

- I thought music was supposed to help open the creative mind.

- I'm sure you're right about that.

But see, the thing is,

when you play,

all I can think about is how much I love you

and how proud I am of you.

And it demotivates me from working,

because what more do I have to prove

when I have you as my daughter?

And it's super annoying.

That too.

I need to be better.

I need to be perfect.

I want to play first chair in the New York Philharmonic

by the time I'm 18.

Oof, 18.

Ticktock, baby.

Ticktock, ticktock,

ticktock.

- I thought everyone loved the script.

Why would they buy it

if you had to do so much to fix it?

- - All right, Almandine.

Let's go out and explore

and let Daddy get some writing done.

Come on, baby.

Thank you.

- We need to get Daddy noise-canceling headphones.

That's a good idea.

- I wonder if the pilgrims are buried here.

I wonder what killed them.

Maybe something cool and ancient

like dysentery or plague.

Or deer ticks.

There's Lyme disease all over this area.

Your friend Rashida's mom,

she spends the summer in the Hamptons.

She got it.

Now she can barely make it to noon

before collapsing in exhaustion.

If you just...

Keep covered up, you should be okay.

Do you like it here?

It's very beautiful.