So my mum is alive and she lives here.
Why didn't you tell me sooner, man?
I'd already told you that you died, and that I had tortured you for centuries
and that you're doomed to be tortured again...
I just didn't want to be, like, a bummer.
But now you know everything important about your life, I promise.
A police officer came to my home
and told me that my mum had been accidentally trampled to death
when she bent down to adjust her toe ring at a Rascal Flatts concert.
That police officer was an actor.
See, about a month before, your mum had gotten drunk
wandered into a charity auction, and bid $30,000
for a date with Gene Simmons
outbidding everyone else by $29,800 dollars.
She didn't want to pay, so she faked her death
moved to Nevada, and reinvented herself as Diana Tremaine.
Diana Tremaine is my fake ID name!
How dare she steal the identity I stole!
Look, I know this is a lot to take in, but we're here to help your mum
get into the Good Place.
Whatever you're feeling, remember, this is not about you.
Right.
How could you do this to me?
Yay! You found me!
What the hell, Mum?
OK, baby, I can explain everything. Let's all just take a breath.
You haven't even introduced me to this stretched-out, sexy Alex Trebek.
I'm Michael. It's nice to meet you, Donna.
Oh, uh, it's Diana now, for...
You know, police reasons.
- By the way, whose McMansion is this? - My boyfriend Dave's.
He's kind of a dork, but real sweet.
And so fancy - his napkins are made out of, like, shirt material.
Cloth.
OK. Now this is making sense.
You change your name, bag a rich loser with a tacky house. I get it.
- You're running a scam. - No, baby.
This is as real as the nails under my acrylic nails.
- I'm a different person! - Spare me.
You will always be sun-baked Arizona trash
and I know that because I grew up baking right beside you!
Oh, jeez! I didn't know we had company!
Hey. Hi, I'm Dave.
- Michael. - Of course you're Dave.
Hey, Dave. You and I need to have a little conversation.
- Diana! - Oh, hey!
Who the hell is this chick?
Oh, this is my little potato pie, Patricia!
And who might you be, by the way?
Eleanor is my sorority sister.
Right. Good ol' Kappa Zeta...
Jones.
- Oh. - Hey...
I can't believe I have to wait in line to see my own sister.
I have never waited in any kind of formation before, let alone a line.
- Wow, is this whole room just her work? - Don't be fooled, Chidi.
Kamilah is a charlatan.
All she has to do is paint some dumb shapes and people go mad.
Those aren't dumb shapes. They're a pair of boobs.
And then two extra side boobs.
It symbolises that boobs come in all shapes and sizes, and distances apart.
Ugh. Maybe we should just go, there are plenty of other people I could help.
Like my good friend Ben Affleck, and his crippling addiction to back tattoos
or my other good friend Matt Damon
and his crippling addiction to my friend Ben Affleck.
It's important that you make amends.
Your competitive relationship with Kamilah is largely the reason
that you didn't get into the Good Place.
Stands to reason that the same would be true for her.
Fine.
But the waiting is over.
Excuse me. Excuse me, excuse me!
Tahani! Were you waiting in a line to see me?
That's hilarious.
As a frog stares up in awe at the treetops
so too does humanity gawk at the purity of a blinding truth.
Napkins and forks are in the back.
So making omelettes is art now, is it?
Not that I'd expect you to understand
but it's a commentary on the world's fascination with subservience, consumption
death, and pedagogy.
Cheddar or Swiss?
Oh, no, I don't want an omelette. I just came for a quick sisterly chat.
My sister, Tahani, refuses to order an omelette.
As a result, the exhibit is now over
and will never be shown again. There will be no refunds.
Hey now! I just checked my Apple Watch
and it's "Marg-o-clock!"
- So, Michael, what do you do? - Ah.
Well, um... I'm an architect.
Get outta here! Me too!
- Huh! - Dave's real good.
You should see the new Hooters on I-15.
It looks classy, like a bank.
So, how did you two love-rats meet?
Oh, it's a fun story.
I was working on this project, tearing down a condemned bar called The Desert Rash.
I went in to meet with the contractors, and Diana is sitting at the bar
drinking a seven and seven and seven.
Seven shots of Seagram's Seven, in seven minutes.
It's Diana's morning drink.
Oh, that's right, it was very early in the morning!
Well, this little spitfire finds out
it's me who's closing down the bar, next thing I know
she's got a knife to my face!
I would've been scared if she hadn't been the most gorgeous thing
- I've ever seen in my life. - Aw.
One thing leads to another and all of a sudden we're playing tonsil tennis
on a broken toilet in the alley out back.
Cute!
So how did you and Eleanor become friends?
Well, let's just say that we...
lived in the same... neighbourhood!
Oh!
What a fun way to say a normal thing, right?
Well, I've gotta go get ready, today is PTA elections
and I'm running for secretary.
And she's a shoo-in, too. Hey, Patty!
We gotta get ready, OK?
I know we came here to set your mum on a better path
but I think she's doing pretty great.
Please. She's completely full of it.
I am gonna find out what kind of scam Donna Shellstrop is running
and I am gonna take her down.
Right after I finish this awesome drink.
- Man, Dave's margaritas are amazing. - Right?
And I'm not even a tequila guy.
Wow.
So this is what a museum looks like.
If you look at this painting closely, you can really notice the interpretation.
I know you're just being silly, and effortlessly charming
but you actually just picked the most valuable painting in the entire museum.
As of last year, that work was valued at 39.2 million dollars.
Oh, snap, I forgot you know everything! How much is that one worth?
That one is worth 13.7 million dollars.
That one's got a bunch of colours! That's gotta add some value.
Can we do this for all the paintings?
Look. I've had a sort of...
revelation about the world, and I'd like to take responsibility
for my part in our fraught history.
For whatever hurt I've caused you, I sincerely apologise.
Thank you.
I do not accept your apology. Is that all, then?
Well...
Oh!
Urgh!
Check out what Dave gave me.
Plans for a Subaru dealership-slash-burlesque club he's designing in Reno!
Man, Nevada's a mess!
What are you doing?
Searching for the tell-tale sign of a Donna Shellstrop scam.
A pile of cash hidden somewhere, so she can grab it and head out on the run.
When the time comes, she will rip this guy off
and disappear like Keyser Soze...
right after he admitted to groping all those people.
- Why are you in my room? - Oh, hey, girl!
What's up? How old are you, three?
- I'm nine. - Cool.
I don't know anything about kids.
Hey, has Diana ever made you hide, like, a special treasure in any of your toys?
No, Diana's very nice to me. She bought me most of these stuffed animals.
Oh, wow! Neat.
Mind if I give him just a little surgery just to check?
OK, OK, OK, alright, Doc McStuffins, let's get you some fresh air.
I'm so sorry.
She's a kid. You can't disembowel her toys.
Fine. New plan, you casually mention that you're rich, and seduce Donna.
When she goes for you, it will prove that this whole thing is a sham!
First things first, do you have a penis?
I will not seduce Donna.
For one thing, I could never do that to my pal Dave.
It goes against the architect's code. Also, your mother seems happy here.
The Donna I know wouldn't be caught dead in this suburban boredom factory.
She's scamming them! Look, believe me, don't believe me.
I don't care, I'm gonna prove it.
Young lady, you will stop this nonsense
go to the PTA meeting, and support your mother.
I won't hear another word about it!
What the hell was that?
Well, I was going for the "stern" but, you know, "caring dad" vibe.
No? Didn't work?
No, not even close. Like, not in the ballpark.
I was trying something, Eleanor. Give me a break.
Until Kamilah accepts my apology, this open wound will hinder any progress
she might make toward getting into the Good Place.
Also, I'm going to strangle her
which will hinder any air from getting into her lungs.
Can I talk to her?
Maybe we should try a little third-party mediation.
Uh, hi. I'm Tahani's friend, Chidi.
Chidi is an Igbo word that means "God exists."
That's right. Sorry...
I don't know the etymology of your name, but...
All of your fears... are now mine.
- What did she say? - What?
I don't know. Sorry, I got distracted.
She's amazing! All of my fears are hers now!
Of course they are.
Um...
I sincerely apologised to you because I have matured into a fully-formed adult
with empathy and self-awareness.
But if you don't accept my apology
I will smash your stupid art exhibit into bits!
More Tahani theatrics, with zero follow-through.
You don't have it in you to do anything that bold
because I'm the one who got the boldness gene.
And the good eyebrow gene.
Oh!
Oh, no! All my fears are mine again!
Hey, Davey, can you believe the design of this room?
Auditorium? More like "audi-bore me-um."
Savage!
Hello, I'm Diana Tremaine.
I never thought I'd run for a PTA board.
For most of my life, I preferred to crawl.
Pub crawl!
But now, I want to make sure kids
in this decommissioned military bombing test site
turned-suburban township get the best education Nevada has to offer.
What's that, "always double down on 11"?
Also, there is a pretty great kid who goes to this school
and I want to make this place great for her. Stand up, sweetheart!
Well, it was the first Hooters ever made out of brick.
- Sort of inspired by Monticello. - Hey, mark.
- Oh, nope, it's Dave. - I know your name.
I'm calling you a mark.
Easy.
I got news for you, dad-bod.
The woman you know as Diana Tremaine is really Donna Shellstrop
my much older mother.
She faked her death and changed her name.
Sorry to burst your bubble, but that's the deal.
I already knew all that, Eleanor.
Your mother told me everything the first night we met.
- The first night? - Well, no, not the first night, actually.
That was mostly sex, you know...
Your mother is a very confident and selfish lover.
- Yikes. - Oh, no, no, it's perfect for me
cos I don't know what I want. But anyway, the next morning she told me everything.
And we're gonna tell Patricia once she's a little bit older.
- For now, everything is going great! - No, dude, you don't know my mum.
She used to put like 50 things in a shopping cart
then go to the "12 items or less" aisle, scream "Rat!"
and run out the door without paying.
She is a liar.
Well, listen, she has been nothing but honest with me
and I like that she's got a wild streak, kinda gets my motor running!
Tell you the truth, she's turning me into a bit of a bad boy!
I mean, who am I, Avril Lavigne?
Oh, I get it.
Coming clean was all part of the scam!
It's brilliant, because he thinks she's honest
so when she runs off with all his money, he'll never see it coming.
Come on, Eleanor. I changed. You changed.
- Maybe she changed, too. - No.
No way.
Why can't you accept that she might be living a good, honest life?
That she's an attentive partner and a good mum?
Because I wanted that mum!
I wanted the mum who made me afternoon snacks instead of just telling me to look for
loose fries in the McDonald's ball pit.
Why does Patricia get that mum?
If Donna Shellstrop has truly changed
then that means she was always capable of change
but I... I just wasn't worth changing for.
I-I know as your self-appointed father figure I'm supposed to say something
comforting here, but I'm... I'm kinda stumped.
OK, final tally!
Forty-three votes for Diana Tremaine.
12 votes for Eileen Capshaw.
And one vote for "Bofa Deeznutz."
Oh, don't look at me like that. You're not my real dad.
Congratulations, Madame Secretary.
So crazy, right? I'm gonna need to get a calculator!
And maybe a globe? I don't really understand the job.
Listen, I'm... I'm sorry that I didn't think this whole thing was real.
I just never thought I'd see the day when you made a commitment to...
anything.
I was wrong.
Thank you, baby. That means a lot.
Let me help you.
No, no, no, not that one! Not that one!
No, sorry, sorry, this powder is only for my delicates.
You don't wash your bras.
No! No...
I knew it!
- Ugh... - My mother is a con artist!
Gotcha!
So, before I'm tortured in the afterlife
I get to spend the rest of this life in a Hungarian prison for destruction of art!
That's fun!
Destruction of extremely derivative art.
Kamilah's work has been mediocre for years.
Mother and father are probably rolling over in their cryogenic chambers.
Really?
You don't think they would be proud of her for having a whole museum wing
dedicated to her work?
My parents' standards were incredibly high and they were impossible to please.
Plus they always pitted my sister and me against each other.
The two of them were a unit, and Kamilah and I...
Girls. We have a new challenge for you.
Each of you has four hours to complete a rendering of your favourite moment
in French Military History.
The winning painting shall be hung in our foyer during our party
honouring François Mitterrand.
The losing painting shall provide the kindling for the fire
that rages in our hearth during that party.
Doesn't that sound wonderful?
Yes, Mother, it does.
Thank you for this opportunity.
Who will be the winning artist, and who will fail?
Let's find out!
These paintings...
they're us.
You're the boobs?
Sorry, once Jason said it, that's all I can see.
Here we go...
What?
Tahani, what are you doing? Stop it.
No. I'm going to hug you because I love you.
And because you feel just as alone as I do.
I'm sorry our parents were such wankers.
And I understand that you can't accept my apology
because that would quench your creative thirst.
They forced us to compete, and that competition has fuelled your art
for decades.
It's so awful, and I'm so sorry.
They were wankers, weren't they?
Oh! The absolute biggest wankers on Earth.
Let them go, please.
Mwah!
Diana Tremaine, you little devil.
New name, same game.
Fine.
Things have been going good with me and Dave
but sometimes I sneak a little bit of cash out of his wallet and I hide it away
just in case everything blows up and I need to skip town.
Are you happy?
Actually, no. I'm not happy.
But I think you are.
You're holding on to this exit strategy
telling yourself that you can bail at any time, but the truth is
you love this suburban life.
I don't love it so much.
I am not basic!
Ya basic!
No, Mum...
ya basic.
And that's OK.
Let me ask you something, why are you wearing yoga pants?
Well, on Tuesday nights I do restorative yoga with a bunch of mums from Patty's school.
- And what do you do after yoga? - We split avocado egg rolls
at the Cheesecake Factory, but we also drink!
- What do you drink? - Chardonnay.
With ice cubes.
And after one glass, I get sleepy
so I usually switch to water so I can drive home
like a nerd!
Hey, hey.
It's OK.
It's good. You're happy here.
But you need to commit to this
which means getting rid of that stash of escape money.
And I think you know what you have to do with it.
Send it to Gene Simmons?
What? No.
Spend it on Patricia.
Set up a college fund, buy her a... crib.
Or a car? I-I truly don't know anything about kids, but...
this is your chance to break the chain of Shellstrop-mother-daughter crappiness.
You have a do-over. Use it.
Oh, baby.
It seems like you've turned into a really good person
and you clearly didn't get that from me, so, props to whoever helped you.
Is there more cash in your bra?
Always, that's why I don't wash them.
I still can't believe that police officer pulled you over just to tell you
that you were driving perfectly.
Why not? I was!
There is an article in the paper about Kamilah's latest art installation
and look.
"A Fractured Inheritance" by Kamilah Al-Jamil and...
Tahani Al-Jamil.
Gosh. That was very big of her.
Though she really should have named the piece "A Buried Hatchet," don't you think?
Such a better title!
- I'm going to call her and rub it in! - Maybe don't.
For now.
Yes.
Smart.
Good luck, buddy. Oh!
Hey, I almost forgot, I sketched you up a little something.
Some ideas there for your, uh... your project.
- Wow! - Yeah.
Well, this is more than a few ideas, you solved the whole thing!
Columns, and porticos...
Uh-oh.
Looks like you forgot to include bathrooms.
Oops. Well, just a little oversight.
I certainly use the bathroom, like anybody else.
Love to sit on the... the thing and just, you know
shoot one out.
Eleanor, I'll be in the car!
It was really nice to meet you, Patricia. Got a lot of people who care about you here.
And good luck with the...
- SATS. - I'm nine.
Whatever, good luck in school, you get it.
The others are on their way back from Budapest.
We'll be picking them up in a few hours.
Oh, be happy!
Your mum found a better path all on her own, and you definitely helped Patricia.
- Double happy ending. - I know, I'm just...
I'm a little sad.
I'm glad my mum has changed, but that doesn't fix all the damage she did to me.
Let's face it, she's the reason I could never get close to anyone.
I never even told a boyfriend I love him.
Oh, crap. Um...
You remember how I told that you knew everything important about your life?
Well, I wasn't thinking about your afterlife life.
In one of the reboots, you and... and Chidi fell in love.
Deeply, and...
you told him that you loved him, and...
and he told you that he loved you back.
We did what now?
Do you wanna listen to a podcast, maybe?