Don't fight gravity, Shadow.
We're the coming thing.
They threatened to reprogram reality.
Is that what this is?
You are pretending
you cannot believe in impossible things.
Are you still my puppy?
No.
If all of this is real,
and TVs talk and hammers bleed,
and if there's a world under a world...
We have no business with you.
You say merger,
I hear war.
I'm not your enemy.
- Amen. - Amen.
Amen.
What the hell was that in there?
Marilyn Monroe just floats into a fucking room
then massacred a station full of cops
and just left us in the middle of it.
And then I get stabbed by Charlie Brown's Christmas tree.
- What are they? - It's hard to quantify.
Motherfucker. You never just answer a fucking question.
It's not a question, Shadow.
A question would be "What do you believe you saw?"
I don't know what I believe.
They killed those cops.
A warning to me, a sacrifice to them.
Sacrifice?
Like what, f-for... for a god?
What's a god?
Can we even know they exist?
People believe things,
which means they're real.
That means we know they exist.
So what came first, gods or the people who believed in them?
All right, so...
where was all this before I met you?
On the periphery, just outside,
there's always a window,
but people are frightened to look through it.
Safer in the prison cell.
We're not safe now.
No. We're not.
Who are you?
If I told you, you wouldn't believe me.
I believe in something.
I saw my wife.
Tonight.
She, uh...
she was waiting for me in my room.
She came back... alive.
Dead.
Oh?
Well, your wife obviously has a temper.
Not used to not getting her way, huh?
She apologize for her actions in life?
Sort of.
Your dearly departed has departed,
and I suggest we do the same.
Maybe she's coming back. Okay?
Maybe we should wait.
Maybe she was never here.
Was she a ghost?
I mean, do you think you saw a ghost?
No, because she was...
she was solid, okay?
I touched her. Sh-She... She kissed me.
So your dead wife showed up.
You scared?
Yeah, a little.
You know, you're not questioning any of this.
I'm questioning everything right now.
I'm not so young nor so narrow
to assume that the dead are dead
and there's no spectrum of spectral in between.
In my experience, the dead that aren't
rarely come back without purpose.
I don't know what her purpose was.
To let you go. Now get in.
Now you've seen who's after us,
and you know what they're capable of.
You can hang around here if you want,
but I'm getting out of here.
Shadow!
Fuck!
Where the fuck is my car?
Excuse me.
Where's my fucking car?
Police were looking at a car.
They thought it belonged to the dead woman.
Yes, it does belong to the dead woman.
I am the dead woman. Where's my fucking car?
- Police towed it. - Where are the police?
Isn't this a crime scene? Shouldn't they be all over this?
The police are dead.
First piece of luck I've had in days.
Hi.
The police are dead?
All of them? All of the police are dead?
Worse things out tonight than you.
Do you have a car?
Yes. I do.
Well, chop-chop, Ginger Minge, let's go.
Isn't she lovely?
Which one's yours?
Pick one.
Ah, for fuck's sake. That one.
Ahem.
Get it started. I'll take it from there.
Well, you're not taking it anywhere, dead wife,
not without me,
not until that coin is back in my pocket
- where it belongs. - Good fucking luck with that.
No, this one, not that one.
That alarm I can't do anything about.
This alarm I can. This alarm's my friend.
Well, then steal me a different fucking car.
I don't want to drive this shitty old taxi.
I'm driving. You're in the back.
This car's a toilet.
It's your toilet now, dead wife.
I've done the math.
This times that equals you're a cunt,
divided by the only way I'm going to get what I need
is if you give it to me,
equals the only way you're going to give it to me
is if you don't need it.
Like my friend Jesus Christ,
the only thing you need, dead wife...
is resurrection.
Did you just name drop Jesus Christ
like you know a guy who knows a guy?
I do know a guy who knows a guy,
and the guy sitting next to that guy is your guy.
And who's this guy your guy knows?
Someone who can perform a resurrection
without the use of a charmed coin.
And you're just going to convince this guy
to bring me back to life?
I can be very convincing.
Fuck.
Is this you being convincing now?
Because you suck at it,
unless you're trying to convince me you're an asshole.
I'm trying to convince you to live.
Real living, not whatever rot living this is.
'Cause whatever this is doesn't last long,
especially through a hot summer.
Whatever this is goes to soup,
and soup don't win her husband back,
if that's what soup is after.
Why don't you put that on your fucking scales and weigh it?
What the fuck are you?
I mean, what the fuck are any of you?
But first, tell me what the fuck are you.
Seriously, what the fuck are you?
I'm a leprechaun.
Oh, well, that makes sense.
- Does it now? - No!
Please stop stealing my cab.
Did you say you are a leprechaun?
Yes.
Have you ever met a jinn?
Looking for a jinn, are you now?
I have been traveling in the direction of Mecca for days
looking for a jinn.
Fire for eyes, shit for brains?
Yes.
And no, presumably.
My luck's for shit.
I'd rather not be behind the wheel.
Good. I'll drive.
Yeah. You'll drive.
You'll drive into a fucking tree
first chance you get.
Take us to Kentucky.
I'll tell you where to find your jinn.
I'll tell you where to find a whole murder of gods,
demi and otherwise, every goddamn one of them.
I'll tell you.
Once we're in Kentucky.
You're confused.
No, I can see that. I can understand that.
Usually when the grieving reach the bargaining stage,
they find that avenue fruitless
and go straight on to depression.
But you, you've had your fucking bargain,
and are loathe to go back to grieving.
Consider this.
The dead, when they come back, are tenacious little bastards
and hang on until they're done,
and then they're gone.
Hey! Hey!
I know a charm that could lift grief from a grieving heart.
Do you know a charm that can stop bleeding?
No, I do. And I know a charm that can cure your sickness and pain.
I know a charm that can turn away the weapons of enemies.
I know a charm that can heal with a touch.
Well, now would be a good fuckin' time.
Oh...
What? Is it infected?
Well, in a way, yeah.
No doubt you met gentlemen in the slammer
who slick their shiv with shit before they shank their rival.
Well, that's what we got here.
A shitty little shiv.
Ah! It's moving! What the fuck is that?
I need more light.
Gonna take a little persuasion, huh?
Excuse the... the cold hands.
Shh...
Aah...
You ever raise worms by putting an electric current to the earth?
That's what this is like.
Aah! I feel it digging around in there...
Shh...
That's it.
There's always been a god-shaped hole in man's head.
Trees were the first to fill it.
Don't look.
Mr. Wood was the trees.
Mr. Wood was the forest.
Well, he was a very old god who saw something very new.
He saw a god-fearing society
turning towards complete industrialization.
So... So what did he do?
He sacrificed his trees. He sacrificed his forest.
And he became something else.
- Is it gone? - Huh? What?
At this stage, it's... it's "time will tell, we'll see."
But if it'll rest your weary head, yeah, it's gone.
It's all so fucked up.
Religion inspires in those who fear nothing,
fear of the gods,
and using that fear requires a certain element of fucked up.
New York scared me.
I was scared of the black people, the way they stared at me.
I was scared of the Jews, the ones dressed all in black
with the hats and the beards and the side curls.
I was scared of the sheer quantity of people,
all shapes and sizes of people
spilling from high, high filthy buildings onto the sidewalk.
I was scared of the honking hullabaloo of traffic,
and I was even scared of the air.
I'm not scared of anything anymore.
I'm scared you're never gonna shut
that flappin' hole of yours.
I'm sitting back here having a fuckin' anxiety attack
because I am genuinely terrified
that you are never gonna shut the fuck up,
Ibrahim bin Irem.
Who the fuck is Ibrahim bin Irem anyway?
'Cause that ain't you.
Ibrahim probably threw himself from this speeding vehicle
to shut your fuckin' yap.
Did you kill Ibrahim?
I won't tell.
You should see the shit I've done.
Did you?
No.
I never met Ibrahim bin Irem.
I imagine he was given a new life just as I was.
My name is Salim...
or it was Salim.
I do not know what my name is now.
So you got this new life, what happens to the old one?
Fuck those assholes?
Never see 'em again?
Yes. Fuck those assholes.
Yeah, that's the spirit.
Fuck those assholes.
I just realized that I'm never gonna never see my mother again.
Never gonna hear her say my name again.
Never gonna eat her cooking again.
Thank fuckin' Christ for that.
That is not me taking the Lord's name in vain.
I will actually be thanking Christ
when his Resurrection Guy who-do's that voodoo.
You shut the fuck up about that.
It's not for public consumption.
You are not a leprechaun?
Oh, she's a lepre-cunt.
Oh, fuck!
If I hear that word pass your lips one more time,
I'm gonna peel them off your gums.
Oh! Fuckin' hell!
You mind if I smoke in here?
I would rather you not.
You're really gonna be precious?
Because it smells like someone took a shit in the back seat.
Someone did take a shit in the back seat.
If you must smoke, roll down your window.
Are you dead?
You smell dead.
Although, um, that might be the cigarette.
This is my afterlife, Salim/Not Salim.
Did you pray for another life?
Oh, yeah. All the time when I was little.
At Sunday School, we were forced to pray.
I told my priest that I didn't know how.
And he told me to pray for my family,
so I used to pray that they'd disappear...
or that there'd be an accident.
There was an accident, all right.
And now finally my prayers have been answered.
I do not pray to ask God for things.
I pray to thank God for bringing me where I am.
To this time, to this place, where...
I finally know what I must do in this life.
I pray I find the jinn.
He is my afterlife.
I knew him.
We knew each other.
Now I want to know more.
Did you have a genie in your bottle?
Did you rub one out of him, darling?
♫ Hello world, here's a song that we're singing ♫
♫ Come on, get happy
♫ A whole lotta lovin' is what we'll be bringing ♫
♫ We'll make you happy
♫ We had a dream we'd go travelin' together ♫
♫ And spread a little lovin', then we'll keep movin' on ♫
♫ Something always happens whenever we're together ♫
♫ We get a happy feeling when we're singing a song ♫
♫ Travelin' along, there's a song that we're singin' ♫
♫ Come on, get happy
♫ We'll make you happy
Welcome to Vulcan, Virginia.
Where is everyone?
Everyone in this particular town is a dedicated citizen.
Dedicated to one sticky belief.
America.
Their America.
There aren't just two Americas.
Everyone looks at Lady Liberty and sees a different face.
Even if it crumbles under question.
People will defend the warm, safe feeling
their America gives them.
They will defend it...
with bullets.
No, these streets mean one of two things...
radiation or...
something like this here.
A funeral?
Less a funeral than a celebration of sacrifice.
And if I know my friend,
someone got tossed into the volcano.
This was a human sacrifice?
Faulty railings at the forge.
Couple of times a year, an employee takes the plunge.
Insurance company says it's cheaper to settle
than to close down and refurbish.
As good as throwing them in intentionally.
♫ I put a spell on you
♫ Because you're mine
♫ You better stop the things you do ♫
♫ I ain't lyin'
That's him. Head of the crowd.
The one they all flock to.
Vulcan.
It may cost me a bottle of Soma,
but he'll join us.
Please go in peace!
Take a little cover if I was you.
Grimnir!
Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!
How are you, you proper geezer?
What rock did you crawl out from under?
Oh, playing a little hide and seek.
Hiding from the proverbial "them"
and seeking you.
What do you need from me, Big Daddy?
I need you... to believe in me.
I always have.
Oh, this is my man, Shadow Moon.
Then it's true.
What have you heard?
I've heard your name on the wind.
You trying to start a war, Glad-O-War?
We're at war already, and we're losing.
You and me, all of us. They're taking over America.
They're taking honey from our mouths.
I'm not starving for any taste of honey.
The rest of us are.
Then let's get you something to eat.
Hmm.
This ain't Kentucky.
Where's Kentucky?
Whew. This ain't good lighting for you, love.
And a bang of benjy coming off of you.
- What can I get you? - Southern Comfort and Coke.
- Vodka straight. - You have a preference?
As close to rubbing alcohol as you got.
Coffee, please. Black.
I'll bring it to your table.
Find a dark corner downwind.
Are you trying to shame me?
That shit will blow up in your face.
Shame is the reason dead people only go out at night.
I have no use for shame.
Shame, I Dream of Genie,
is what kept you from gettin' tossed off a roof
long enough to make it to America.
And what do you know about dead people?
Uh, I had a whole tutorial with the Grim fuckin' Reaper,
so I think I know a thing or two.
It's easier to pass for the living in the dark,
if I felt a need to pass.
Only thing you're passin' for is dead.
- Good. - Not good.
You don't want to draw any unnecessary attention to yourself.
I think perhaps you don't want to draw any
unnecessary attention to myself.
Because I have no shame.
You're dead in Indiana, dead wife.
What are you doin' here?
Homesick?
Fuck those assholes, wasn't it?
Now here you are shovin' your face in 'em.
Your heart's not beating for this life anymore, dead wife.
This life is done.
Only felt my heart beat one time since I died.
When I kissed Shadow.
That doesn't obligate him to feel shit.
You're so worried about being alive,
but to him, you're already dead.
Wait.
You kissed him?
Yeah, I just said I kissed him.
- Put your tongue in his mouth? - Just the tip.
Was it cold? And dry?
Probably.
Did it taste like cigarettes and vomit?
I had been smoking.
Perhaps I misjudged the kiss.
Probably should have had some gum or a mint.
Yeah, or a fuckin' Tic-Tac.
If your man had any doubts about whether his wife was dead or not,
that ended 'em.
Death do us part. Take the fuckin' hint.
- What fuckin' hint? - He's gone.
Your man came, he saw ya, tasted death on your tongue,
and he left.
He ain't your man anymore.
He's Wednesday's man.
I saw him give it over.
Right over there, right at that table over there.
That's where he took his last glass of evil, vile fuckin' mead,
and made his bargain with the devil himself.
Your piece of shit husband got a new life.
Why don't you?
This one got a new life.
He ain't lookin' back.
I did.
And I'm not.
Shadow made my heart beat again.
Why do men like anal sex?
'Cause women don't.
Not like Ibrahim bin Irem here does.
He's got a button for that business,
so he likes gettin' his backdoor kicked in.
But your kind of love, dead wife,
is the grandest butt fuckin' of 'em all.
You can love somebody even when you know they don't like it.
Even when you know they don't want it.
That's some profound knowledge for you right there.
Wrapped up in a quaint sexual metaphor.
I don't know.
I really like anal sex.
It's an old hanging tree.
You like it?
No.
- Evening. - Evening.
Betty's getting a spit polish.
Stay as long as you like. You'll be safe here.
No, we really should get goin'.
Nonsense. Nonsense! You're gonna love it here.
Everyone does.
People do tend to behave if they know they're being watched.
They like being watched.
Somebody's watching.
Somebody's always watching.
What did you do to become
the god of this little universe that you have created?
Sacrifice.
Come, please, sit, sit. Have a drink.
Oh... aah.
My Soma not good enough?
Wine cellar is overflowing these days.
Not for you.
Is he...
All this from faulty railings, huh?
Uh, you're no stranger to sacrifice.
Oh, they don't care enough to sacrifice anymore.
- Not to me. - They could.
If they don't, you could sacrifice yourself.
You've done it before.
And the world opened to me.
It has since closed.
You ever see a man hanged, Shadow?
Throat crushed, gasping for life.
Yeah.
Well, then you'll know
that it's a terrible way to find your faith.
Faith doesn't have to leave the faithful...
dangling. Heh.
I franchised my faith.
Franchised?
You are what you worship.
God of the volcano.
Those who worship hold the volcano in the palm of their hand.
It's filled with prayers...
in my name.
The power of fire is firepower.
Not God.
But god-like.
And they believe.
It fills their spirits every time they pull the trigger.
They feel my heat on their hip,
and it keeps them warm at night.
God bless the believers.
Come with me to Wisconsin.
Stand with me,
and let the world open to us once again.
I was on the bus before you painted it yellow.
When do we leave?
When you can forge me a blade in the heat of your volcano.
I need it on my hip when we stand together.
I'll make you a blade worthy of a god. Hm?
You trust him?
I know who he is.
And who he's always been.
I can depend on that.
You tell him I was lynched?
Didn't occur to me.
'Cause he knew that I was hanged from a tree.
As do the ones who hung you from a tree.
Okay, well, that's kind of a personal fuck you to you.
Oh, the personal fuck yous to me
didn't stop there.
I've been thinking of a personal fuck you retort,
and my friend here is gonna help me make it.
You gonna tell me what it is?
No, when you're ready.
No, you're not here at the moment.
You're distracted. I wonder why.
Laura.
- Losing her twice? - Mm-hm.
When you think of her,
does it open a window in your mind, Shadow?
Close your eyes.
Can you see her?
Where is she?
- She's in Indiana. - Yeah.
Outside her mom's big house.
She's out in the cold, but...
she doesn't feel it anymore.
Or maybe that's all she feels now.
She's at the window, but...
her breath isn't fogging up the glass at all.
She's watching her family.
They can't see her.
But you can see her, Shadow, can't you?
Question is...
can you let her fade away?
Drive.
Fuck those assholes?
Fuck those assholes.
Your hands have lost none of their skill.
I should have given you a gun.
You could carry that on your hip.
Machine made arms?
You used to do everything by hand.
Craft. Not manufacturing.
Now this, this is craft.
You could cut a line of throats
with the best blade ever made
from now until your grandchildren died,
and not spill half the blood a gun could in a day.
They make blood sacrifices to you.
Blood spilled by bullets.
You could use a blood sacrifice.
Why are you doing what you're doing?
You got yours, I just want to make sure
everybody else gets theirs.
Uh, it seems like the right thing to do.
For you.
Did you tell 'em we were here?
Yes.
Are they coming?
Oh, yes.
You sold us out.
Won't be joining us in Wisconsin, then, huh?
I've been advised it's best if I appear neutral.
Neutral, in the face of injustice
is on the side of the oppressor.
They...
They're not the oppressors.
They're the tide.
They're gravity.
You saw what I was.
I was a story people forgot to remember to tell.
And they gave me a gun.
They put power back in my hand,
and I gotta tell ya, it feels good.
Every bullet fired in a crowded movie theater
is a prayer in my name.
And that prayer makes 'em want to pray even harder.
And that's how you franchised your faith.
I never needed my religion to be moral.
Moralizing religions or materialistic ones.
They all need their martyrs.
That's your role in all this.
A martyr.
No. That's yours, my friend.
You pledged allegiance to me and forged a blade.
And they killed you for it.
Oh, shit.
Holy shit.
What did you do?
Oh, fuck, what did you do?
What are you doing?
I'm layin' down a curse.
I'm cursing the whole fucking thing.
Allahu Akbar. God is great.
Life is great, Salim/Not Salim.
Life is great.
♫ I put a spell on you
♫ Because you're mine
♫ You better stop the things you do ♫
♫ I ain't lyin'
♫ I love you, I love you ♫
♫ I love you anyhow
♫ I don't care if you don't want me ♫
♫ I'm yours right now
♫ I put a spell on you
♫ Because you're mine
♫ Mmm