We saw the Earth destroyed.
And in a heartbeat, everything and everyone we knew...
was gone.
There were five of us.
The crew of the space shuttle Odyssey.
And we were the only survivors.
The mysterious being who called himself The Seeker...
rescued us and sent us back in time.
And now we have five years to live over.
Five years to discover who or what destroyed the earth.
Five years to stop from it happening again.
The man assured health officials that his member got caught...
in the vacuum during an unfortunate incident while house-cleaning...
and not intimacy with the appliance.
This is Morning Breath, Houston's--
Dear Kurt. You only use ice when you're drinking...
so I assume you're in a phase of slow self-destruction.
Funny, don't you think? After all you've done to fuck up your life...
it's left to me to give you this warning.
But then no one loves you like I do.
You just read this carefully, Kurt...
if you want to keep on living.
So I found this website that specialises in blank projects.
There's this guy in California, collects government documents.
He's got over 10,000 of them online...
so I'm hoping I can get a hit on Bright Sky.
You all still waiting on the fellow with the earring?
Honey, this here table is growing weeds. I want to order some food.
All right, honey, all right.
So today's special is the Mother and Child Reunion.
-What? -It's chicken and eggs.
-Speak of the devil. -Well, there he is.
Who's that with him? It's....
-ls that who I think it is? -What?
I think so.
She wins again, the Queen of SATR: Karena.
Oh, my God! It is. That's Karena.
-I'll give you all a moment. -That's Karena.
Hello, everyone. Everyone, this is Karen Raines.
Sarah Forbes, Neil Taggart, Angela Perry...
and, of course, Roger Ramjet, Hero of Our Nation.
-Charmed. -Nice to meet you.
-I need cigarettes. -Of course, you do, darling.
Yeah.
Get a room.
-ls that Karena? -Oh, not yet. She will be.
I told you.
At the present moment, she's a waitress at Sizzler, of all places.
-Karena, what's that, a shampoo? -She's the Queen of SATR...
or she will be.
SATR? Now what are we talking about, Passover, Last Supper, what?
You know what, Chuck, it's hip to be square, except in your case.
It's South American Techno Rap, Dad.
It's gonna sweep the planet in a couple of years.
-Techno what? -Rap.
Techno Rap. And you're looking at her new manager.
-Jesus, Kurt, what are you doing? -I'm gonna launch the SATR craze now.
Isn't that brilliant? Very soon that girl's gonna be worth $100 million.
Oh, that's right, I forgot. That's why The Seeker sent us down here. To get rich.
Hey, what's wrong with smelling a little solid gold along the way, Chuckie?
I don't know about you, Kurt, but I'm in it for the long haul, not the short bet.
Look around, Chuck. We're a long way from the fucking Odyssey.
I think you lost your memory, Kurt.
Last time I looked, we were trying to save the world...
and I don't find that frivolous.
Well, I don't find making money and living well frivolous.
-You're making an ass out of yourself. -Are you actually dating this girl?
-I think he's in it for the gravy. -You know me.
I never go for half measures.
We got married this weekend, didn't we, darling?
-Yes, we did. -Yeah.
So I thought you said they were your best friends.
Let's not talk about them, shall we?
Let's talk about how much I love your voice.
Yeah, but what were you saying about my look?
You're going to have to work on your body art.
You're going to be known for it, you see.
This'll start a new trend.
Thousands of people will want to copy every symbol you wear.
You always talk about these things like they've already happened.
-ln my mind, they have. -What do you mean?
-Trust me. -I don't know, Kurt.
You seem to have a lot of faith in me...
and I just hope I don't let you down.
Believe me, darling.
The day will come when you can't even go to the 7-Eleven...
without causing a riot.
Every woman will want to be you. Every man will wanna make love to you.
And they'll be eating their hearts out because I'm the one who gets to do it.
Life can be so beautiful.
-Know these guys? -No.
Hello.
It's called Beta-Genics. It's a multi-national conglomerate.
Its main office is in Urbana, lllinois.
They just applied for a patent for a new gene therapy procedure.
-Okay. -Earth to Angela.
-Sorry. -It's Kurt, isn't it?
-No. -Oh, please. I saw your face...
when he waltzed in the bar with that young chippy.
Oh, you're reading way too much into this.
Kurt and I had a thing in the distant past. Trust me, he's way too draining to be with.
Oh, God, I can imagine. He's such a little boy.
A brilliant little boy, but a little boy nonetheless.
-That new girl, she's just his boy-toy. -She's his wife.
That's a reality. I'm gonna get some coffee.
-What's wrong? -I don't know. I just got a little dizzy.
Maybe I'm coming down with something.
Well, I didn't get any hits on Bright Sky specifically...
but there's something going on at Douglas Aimright.
They just got the contract for the new orbital propulsion system.
-I heard. -Yeah, well, there's more to it than that.
I found some documents on this website that suggests...
there might be a black project hidden in that contract.
I'm gonna need a couple more days to figure it all out...
so in the meantime, I have a trig test to study for.
-What are you suggesting, I leave? -Let me tell you...
taking these high school exams again is like the classic bad dream...
-and I'm not waking up. -Well, wake up to this.
Why don't you go clean out the garage like your mother said.
-She did? -Yeah.
-I don't remember. -What's this?
-That's not mine. -Forget it. I'll give you a hand.
Rule one: You never wanna piss your mother off.
And regarding the garage, you always wanna do a little maintenance control so....
-This is a Euro 250. -That's right.
Wait a minute. Is this the bike that was in the window at Woodman's?
-Yes, sir. -This is the one--
This is the one that your mother did not want you to have...
'cause you're such a reckless youth.
-What? -What?
-The bike. You don't like it? What? -No. Yeah. Dad, it's a great bike.
-It's just.... -Just what?
It's the great bike I wanted when I was 17.
-Shit. -And I'm 22.
Remember, we work together. I got a condo, a Porsche, and a Harley.
So.... Had a condo, Porsche, and a Harley.
Look, son. Your mother ain't ever gonna let you have a Harley-Davidson.
Let me get that straight now. I give you a Harley-Davidson...
I have to head for the tall grass. You know what I'm saying?
So let's just start with the 250 and build back up to the Harley-Davidson.
-Meanwhile, clean out the garage. -Yeah.
I love the smell of a woman's sweat in the morning.
-Muscles rippling, pecs flexing. -I think you need a new line there, buddy.
My God, darling, the music business is the tenth circle of hell.
You think they'd recognise talent when they see it.
All they are is afraid of their own shadows.
Yeah? You in the music business?
So to speak. Trying to launch Karena is like pushing Public Enemy at Woodstock.
The right sound at the wrong time, believe me.
Good luck with that. Sounds like you'll need it.
All right, you're upset. I guess I don't blame you.
-Why would I be upset? -Oh, come on, I'm not an idiot.
You're pretty convincing.
Is it the way I broke the news about Karen and l? Is that it?
Look, am I supposed to know what you mean?
Stop playing dumb. Now look, I wasn't trying to be a jerk.
I know I shouldn't have sprung it on you like that, but, come on.
-Whatever you say. -Angela?
Hey! Get your hands off me.
How do you know my name?
If this is a joke, it's not funny and I don't get it.
-I'm not laughing. -ls this guy bothering you?
Mind your own business, Conan. We're having a conversation.
-No, we're not. -Yes, we are.
-Stay out of my face. -All right, let's go.
Take your hands away from me.
-Angela, why are you doing this? -Do you know this loser?
-I've never seen him before. -What?
Don't ever touch a woman you don't know.
Next one might make you a soprano.
The exit, this way? Thank you.
Shit!
The entire world's at stake and you don't call that frivolous?
I call it saving my insanity.
I got a new distributor cap and the damn boost won't sit.
I have no idea what that means.
-Chuck? -Yeah.
-Something's wrong. -What?
It's about Angela. I'm really worried about her.
-What about her? -I went to see her at her gym.
She had no idea who I was. First I thought it was a put-on...
that she was pissed off at me or something, but I was wrong. It was completely real.
What the hell do you think it is?
I don't know. Maybe some lingering effect from her concussion...
-maybe something more serious. -Or maybe she's just getting your goat.
-She likes to push your buttons. -I know, but I think...
you should see for yourself. Will you do that for me?
I'll give it a whirl. So how's your first 100 million going, Mario?
I'm working on it.
-How's married life? -Oh, heaven on Earth.
She wants go to Epcot for the honeymoon.
The mere mention of the word Orlando gives me nightmares.
I think I would have had to put my foot down if she insisted on Legoland.
You know, despite what you think, I'm all for saving the world.
I just wanna have a little fun while doing it, that's all.
-Hey, it's good to have you back, dude. -Where'd I go?
You tell me. When you started hanging out...
with those computer geek twins and getting good grades, for fuck's sake...
-you had me worried, man. -Yeah, it's all kind of a haze.
But this bike definitely redeems you, my friend.
-It's the shit, ain't it? -Yeah.
-Yeah, it's the shit. -Yeah, it is.
Hey, you remember our Evel Knievel days...
jumping Mr Bentley's hedges on our 10-speeds?
Yeah, see if this doesn't bring back some memories.
Yeah, it does, dude.
You never made it over Bentley's hedges, either.
Kids buy records they can dance to. No one will dance to this stuff.
It's too tribal. Too non-urban.
Really, Nostradamus? Well, what if I were to tell you...
that SATR's going to become the biggest thing since hip-hop...
-world-wide, huge beyond belief. -SATR music?
-It's short for South American Techno Rap. -Listen, Mandel.
-Mendel. -Yeah, Mendel, don't get me wrong, okay?
I mean, the girl's got some ability, a pleasant voice, limited range.
-You know, not bad, but nothing special. -Nothing special.
Perhaps you shouldn't have come to L.A. Take her to Nashville. Try the country scene.
-That might be more up her alley. -Right.
-lrregardless-- -There's no such word.
-lrregardless, we're simply not interested. -Okay.
Now you listen to me. You don't know it yet, but your label's in big, big trouble.
-Oh, is it? -Yes, it is.
Chantel, the great Chantel star, is secretly obsessing about her weight.
She's headed to rehab addicted to laxatives.
It would almost be funny if it weren't so tragic.
-Mr Mendel-- -Dr Mendel, thank you.
-Spaghetti-hair, there. -Road Gross.
Road Gross. Yes, an appropriate name. He's gonna choke on his own vomit.
He's gonna go from gross to gone. It gets worse.
Two of the members of the Buff and Tumble Boys are about to come out of the closet.
No more big TV spots, no more million-dollar endorsements.
Irregardless of what you and your alphabetically-challenged team may think...
you need to take a chance. Sign Karena and you may save your label.
Trust me, I know what I'm talking about.
You know your way out, right?
Well, if this ain't the apotheosis of every parent's bad dream...
to see the kid in jail.
-Any cuts, any bruises? -No, I'm fine.
-You get me out of here? -Yeah. He's doing the paperwork.
-That was a pretty stupid stunt. -Yeah. Spare me the lecture.
What happened to "I'm 22, not 17. I got a Porsche, a condo.
-"l got a Harley-Davidson." -A Harley?
-Yeah, I wish. -You wish?
Look, I learnt my lesson, okay, Dad? Can we just go home?
Listen, we got a bigger problem. I talked to Kurt and for once he's right.
Seems that Angela's got a little brain damage. I mean, she doesn't remember him.
She doesn't remember Kurt. She doesn't remember the Odyssey...
-doesn't remember the mission. Nothing. -What mission?
Kurt's mission. My mission. Angela....
Oh, right. Listen, I'm going to hold off on that custody release order.
-What? -I'll just get back to you in about--
What?
I know, I know. You're going to hate hearing this...
but you will thank me one day.
-I promise. -What? Oh, you're shitting me, Dad!
Come on!
-Chuck Taggart? -Wow, I got to tell you.
Thank God. Because I know it's gonna sound a little nutty, but I'm really happy...
that you know who I am because....
I mean, you're not surprised to see me, are you?
Well, yeah, I am a little surprised to see you here.
-Sure. -Here? Oh. Right. Is Paul here?
No, he's not. The coast is clear. Come on in.
Corey. Hey, this is Chuck Taggart. He's an astronaut.
-For real? He go in space and stuff? -Yeah. I go into space and stuff.
-You want to go into space with me? -Can l, Mom?
-Not today, honey. -Well, I'll tell you what, champ.
We'll take a rain check. By then you can go into space...
maybe one day when mom says it's okay. Okay?
-Okay. -Okay.
He looks strong. He looks healthy. He's great.
He's strong, all right. He just broke my vase.
Listen, Sarah, we got a big problem. We got some big glitch...
-with the Odyssey. -The Odyssey?
-As in Homer, Ulysses, Odyssey? -Homer.
You know, when I came through that door just then, I mean...
you really knew me, right? I mean, you didn't know me...
because you're a television personality and I've been on television...
-or did you, you knew me personally, right? -Yes. I know you personally.
We met each other last summer at NASA...
when I was doing that piece on the budget cuts.
-Shit. -Chuck, why did you come here?
I gotta go.
Holy shit.
Karen. I'm home.
Hey, honey, you're just in time. We're celebrating my non-success.
Hello, darling. What the hell's going on here?
Don't worry, baby. It's just a little tea party.
Some old friends dropped by. Those, over there, those are my boys.
Your boys. Yes. When I read your unauthorised biography...
-they must've left out a lot of shit. -What?
Nothing, nothing, darling. Nothing.
I know, they hated my demo in L.A., didn't they?
There's only a couple of record companies in L.A.
There's many more where they came from. Don't worry.
Why don't you just give up because I'm never going to make it, okay?
I am no star. I don't even sing that well.
You're the only one who thinks I sing very well.
It's not gonna be that way for long. I promise.
-But you have to work with me. -What else am I supposed to do?
You can start by telling these multiple sinners to get the fuck out of my house.
You know, you should tell them yourself. I ain't gonna tell nobody.
Chovo. Chovo D., this is my old man. This is Kurt.
Chovo D. Pleasure.
Doesn't surprise me that you'd marry an old man, Karen.
-You didn't know she was into antiques? -But I mean, I at least figured he'd be rich...
-or handsome or some shit. -You're welcome.
I'm going to go get a drink, if you'll excuse me. Thank you.
-He's like that. -He's like that, huh?
Well, I don't like that.
Oh, hello.
So, Karen tells me you got some kind of freakish gift.
-Some shit about you can see the future? -Well, though she's a very excitable girl...
I wouldn't take anything she says too literally, really.
Says you're a big gambling man. Haven't lost a football bet all year.
Well, again, something of an exaggeration.
You might have impressed Karen with your big words and your fancy car.
Let me tell you something. It's time to impress me. You get my drift?
Yes, crystal. Any friend of hers is a friend of mine.
-What can I do for you? -I want you to use your psycho powers.
I believe "psychic" is the word you're looking for.
I'm in the hole and I need a big win. You understand?
-Yes. -One game Sunday.
A sure winner against the spread.
-And don't get it wrong. -Right. Let's see, let's see.
Sunday, the Falcons. The Falcons, yes.
-The Falcons will crush the Saints. -The fucking Falcons?
They haven't crushed anybody. You better not be yanking my chain.
Use your two points. I'm sure of it. It's.... Trust me.
Well, if it ain't Mr Frivolity....
-Here comes the cavalry. -I'm dropping five bills on your Falcons.
-So you better have it right, for your sake. -Right.
-We go way back. -So I see.
What the fuck you doing here? You look like a cop.
Hell, I just slid in on the deal, brother. What do you think, I'm a fucking square?
We got bigger problems. Bigger than you think. We gotta talk.
-Oh, really, talk? -Here?
Well, everybody's too busy...
destroying the place to pay any attention to us.
-Shoot. -Well, listen, they've all forgotten it.
They've all forgotten the jump in time. Neil, Angela, Sarah, all of them.
I had to watch what I was saying. They'd have thought I lost my marbles.
Well, if it's happening to three of us, then you and l--
No, it's not-- Wait, wait, just wait.
-Chuck. Chuck? Chuck! -What?
-Yeah!
Well, look, it's got something to do with this download five years ago...
of our consciousness of five years in the future, to now, which is now.
It's got to be something with time travelling and, hell, that ain't my métier.
-That's your speciality. -It's not my speciality. I'm a geneticist.
I don't know anything about time travel.
Besides, time travel isn't a science. It's a fiction.
Fiction? Your whole goddamn life's a fiction, man!
Jesus Christ!
We need to do something here. We're the only two left. You get that?
-And you gotta think! -I do know this one guy.
He's a theoretical physicist. His speciality is time travel.
-And his name is Casper Van Dyke. -Van Dyke? He's a painter?
No, no, he's not the painter. His name's, anyway, he's a pompous arse.
He's really quite brilliant. I've done three conferences with him.
-He may be the man. -Anything.
-Let's just get the fuck out of here! -Well, you lead the way. Come on.
They play the Saints twice this year. And you know what?
I think I might've gotten my games mixed up so please tell your charming friend, Chovo...
not to wage on the Falcons. Please.
It's hard to explain, but it's very important. Very important.
-Bye-bye, darling. Bye. -What the hell is this?
So I called Van Dyke and told him we're working on a time travel novel together.
-Time travel novel? -Like what happened to us...
except I changed the names and called it Odyssey 5.
There's five of us. We were on the Odyssey.
I get it, I get it.
So we're coming to him because we're hitting a wall...
-and we need to work on key story points. -Like memory loss. Why--
Bingo. Welcome to the tortured world of writer's block.
-I see. -NASA? Lame costume, dude.
-Charming. -Yeah.
So what the hell is a theoretical physicist doing in a joint like this?
Well, there's something I neglected to mention.
He's not actually a practising physicist.
He's more of a science fiction writer. An award-winning science fiction writer.
Wrote such successes, such as Time Squared, Two Times Two...
things like that, you know?
Sweet Jesus.
You have to face reality, people.
Time travel, as a concept, is right out there with warp drives, beam-me-up...
teleportation and UFOs.
All stories of time travel, my novels included...
are exercises in mental masturbation.
Real world physics simply doesn't allow for it.
-Just trust me. -Yes.
Your novel, Time Marching On, is plagued by fallacies and inconsistencies.
Fallacies and inconsistencies?
Page 43. Two theoretical mistakes.
They're on one page. I mean, come on. You got Adison Barnes...
just walking right into the temporal access port without even switching on his--
Perhaps if you spent a little more time reading carefully...
and a little less time trying to grow a moustache...
we wouldn't be having this discussion.
I'm just trying to keep your work honest. I wrote you a letter.
My work is infinitely better than your taste in flood pants and I got your letter.
There were chocolate stains in the margins.
Are we in hell?
Check your convention brochures. It says:
"Acclaimed lecturer, Casper Van Dyke." Last time I looked, that was me...
unless you wish to correct me, of course?
Some of you may subscribe to the tenet that everyone is entitled to an opinion.
But not while I'm on stage.
Right. Back to reality.
As I was saying, time travel: simply not possible.
So I have fans at NASA? Doesn't surprise me.
We read everything we can get our hands on.
-Which is your personal favourite? -My favourite?
-Of my novels. -Time. The one about time.
-The one about New York, Times Square. -Time Squared.
-Squared. That's the one. -Yeah.
-That has nothing to do with New York. -Forgive him. He's an astronaut.
So this story of yours, I'll help you brainstorm, but it'll have to be next week.
Next week's too late. We have an agenda, a deadline.
Well, what's in it for me?
A first-class VlP tour through the NASA Space Centre.
Yes. And a share of the royalties.
-My usual consultant split? -Yes. Yes.
-Okay. How can I help? -All right.
It's a problem concerning the transfer of future consciousness.
And this problem is?
Well, as I told you, if two astronauts lose their future memories like the others...
there'll be no one left to stop the Earth from being destroyed.
And the question you need answered is, what is causing the memory loss?
-Right. -Yeah.
I'm telling you, lose The Seeker completely. It takes up way too much time in the story.
And this whole business of aliens assuming human form. I mean, come on.
It's the oldest trope in the genre.
The kind of stuff they pull in TV when they want to save money on make-up.
The Seeker is the goddamn story. Deal with it!
Excuse me, F. Scott-Buzz Aldrin.
Casper, we need to focus on what causes the memory loss.
What's the fly in the ointment concerning the consciousness transfer?
Why are these people losing their future memories?
You are asking me to ignore one monumental flaw...
and concentrate on another monumental flaw.
No. I have to look at the whole picture.
I haven't begun to address the concept of how an orbital shuttle in low Earth orbit...
could possibly survive the turbulence caused by planetary collapse.
The gravitational flux alone would be enough to cause...
every single person in that spacecraft to turn into Jell-O.
Would you get this dork back on track before I kill him?
-Hey, I am sitting right here. -Gee, I'd have never noticed.
Listening to this egg-head is giving me worms.
Casper, just listen.
-No. I don't work with maniacs. -Casper. Cut him some slack.
Between you and me, he's at the end of his career.
His NASA days are numbered. This novel writing is all he's got left.
It's pathetic.
All right, so why wouldn't the future consciousness hold? What could disrupt it?
What if The Seeker.... Does he have to be this old man, the alien--
Casper, I'm going to strangle you!
Suppose The Seeker...
was actually the force behind the destruction of the world...
and he used the astronauts as puppets...
-to start the whole thing five years ago-- -What's that got to do with that?
-I haven't figured that out yet. -Chuck?
Hey, what the hell are you doing? No one touches my computer.
Chuck. Chuck!
Is he all right?
Chuck, why did you do that? What does it mean?
I don't know. It was a sudden urge.
Like when you quit smoking and you have a big meal and you want a cigarette.
-Neil. -What about him?
I saw these symbols on Neil's computer before I went to the jail.
-Then he'd had his future memory loss. -Who's Neil?
One of the characters from the novel.
You guys are taking this thing way too seriously.
-Chuck, snap out of it. Chuck, come on. -Yeah.
-Come on. -Yeah.
-Are you all right? -Yeah.
Right. We may only have a few minutes or days before you lose your memory.
Just hang in there. We need to compare these symbols...
to the ones on Neil's computer.
-Right. Can I ask you something? -Yes.
Where in the world did you meet that dipshit?
Oh, it's a long story.
-Oh, God. -What now?
-Nice paint job, Mario. -Well, well, look here, y'all.
If it isn't the psychic hot line asshole.
-I take it my wife never reached you. -Falcons 10, Saints 28.
And I gave three points thanks to you, asshole.
-That's why they call it gambling. -Well, now I'm out five grand.
-So what do you call that? -Losing.
Now, I was just going to cap this one here...
but I think you need a trip to the morgue, too, Grandpa.
My, my. Just look at the lowlifes you two attract.
You know this ain't done yet.
Right.
By the way, if any of my ideas accidentally show up in your book...
-my lawyer will be contacting you. -Wonderful.
-I think you'd better drive. -Right.
The symbols that you and Neil typed must be some kind of unconscious response.
They must be part of a larger key. They have to be.
-I need a.... I need some aspirin. -Get me a crate of it.
-Yeah. -Chuck, this is remarkable.
Both texts are nearly identical, like pieces of the same binary puzzle...
but incomplete somehow. You should come see this. It's really quite remarkable.
-Who are you? -I beg your pardon?
-What are you doing in my house? -You let me in.
You don't remember.
No.
And then there was one.
-Chuck? -Sit down. Sit down.
You are sitting in my son's room in front of my son's computer...
in my house and you're in Texas, boy.
I'd be well within my rights to shoot you where you sit.
You don't want to shoot me with your granddad's pistol, do you, Chuck?
I know you've wanted to kill me from time to time...
but I don't think you'd really pull that trigger.
How'd you know it was my granddad's gun?
You told me in the car, remember? Pancho Villa? Colt.45?
-Naran Chandra's place? -I ain't never been with you in my car.
You gotta give me a good reason not to pull this trigger.
Of course.
Well, because, I hate to admit it, but...
I'm your friend...
and because I'm your only hope now.
But if I'm wrong, if you do shoot me...
then you're going to have to shoot me in the back.
That's not your style, Chuck.
I'm going out.
The yellow rose of Texas
As far as I can see
The yellow rose of Texas
Is the only girl for me
The yellow rose of Texas
As far as I can see
The yellow rose of Texas
Kurt, I've been waiting for you for two hours.
We're supposed to be at that party in like 15 minutes.
I'm not going to the party.
Did you hear what I said?
I said I'm not going to the fucking party.
Well, you're the one that said that we should go for my career.
It's an industry party, blah, blah, blah.
-Right. Your career. Yes. -What are you doing?
Trying to save six billion people, that's all. This has to be it.
-This has.... What the fuck does it mean? -Hey, dude, you are cracked.
And you know something? I'm starting to feel a little sorry for you.
Yeah. I feel sorry for me, too.
The future survival of the human race rests on Kurt Mendel's head.
-Fuck me, I don't need the pressure. -It's always about you, isn't it?
Look, Karen. I can't talk right now.
I just want you to go to that party, have fun.
I need to figure things out. I need to concentrate. Okay?
Well, maybe I need to figure a few things out for myself.
Then do it the fuck somewhere else!
Okay?
You don't even love me, do you?
You're in love with the idea of what I might become.
You know what? You may be right. I'm sorry.
I'm gonna go.
The symbols. They're inside my fucking head.
I said I'm leaving.
Karen?
What the fuck does that mean?
What the fuck does that fucking mean? What the fuck!
What the hell happened here?
What the fuck is this?
The man assured health officials that his member got caught...
in the vacuum during an unfortunate incident while housecleaning...
and not intimacy with the appliance.
This is Morning Breath, Houston's--
Dear Kurt. Funny, don't you think?
After all you've done to fuck up your life, it's left to me to give you this warning.
But then no one loves you like I do.
You must read this carefully, Kurt...
if you want to keep on living.
P.S. Go immediately to the bottom dresser drawer.
Do not pass go, do not collect $200.
Hi.
I assumed you'd recognise your handwriting...
but a picture is worth a thousand words.
Yes, it's me several days ago. You don't remember, do you?
But there's a reason for that. I don't have much time.
I'm about to tell you the strangest story you've ever heard.
It starts five years from now in a shuttle far, far away and....
Hello?
I just came to get a few of my things.
You're Karen, my wife.
Not for long.
I got a lawyer. It'll be cheap and easy.
Cheap and easy, like so many lovely ladies I know.
-Present company excluded, of course. -Whatever.
You're really beautiful.
You're really living like a pig, aren't you?
-I guess I'm lost without you. -Yeah? Well, I'm not.
Chovo's my manager now. I got a couple gigs lined up, so....
-Good. I wish you luck. Truly. -Would you look at yourself?
You're sitting exactly where I left you last week.
You're glued to your dumbass computer with all your stupid MlDl code.
-Kurt, you need to get a life. -Wait a minute.
-What did you say? -I said get a life.
No, no, no. Before that. MlDl....
It's MlDl code. Don't you even know what you're writing?
-MlDl code? -Musical lnstrument Digital lnterface?
-What is that? Tell me what? -Oh, God, are you that old?
Look, modern music, synth, trans, hip-hop, take your pick...
can be made using a little contraption we call a computer.
Yeah. Yeah. Well, don't be a smart-ass. And go on. Oh, come on, go on.
Tell me, please, please.
A musician has to talk to his instrument, right?
-Right. -And not in the same way...
that Pete Townsend or any of those dinosaurs you idolize do it.
Right.
But now, we can lay strand upon strand of musical info inside your computer...
-using digital interface. -Yes.
-Those are the symbols you've been typing. -Yes, yes, yes, yes. Well, of course.
This code we've been typing, it's some kind of sound.
God, I could almost kiss you.
There was a time I would've wanted you to do that.
That was then.
I think you know how the rest of that goes. Look, Kurt...
just have a nice life.
Yeah, you, too.
All right. Here goes nothing.
I'm back. Thank you.
Hello.
Now that I brought you all back, I want to say something.
I'd like to apologise for my frightful behaviour. I guess I learnt my lesson.
I'm really sorry. But no more bitching about my being late.
So I was thinking about that memory glitch.
I think our brains refused our future consciousness...
the same way a body rejects a transplanted organ.
I don't know if you all remember...
when the time jump was rushed due to Angela's concussion...
The Seeker never dealt with human beings before, compounding the problem.
The musical code, the MlDl code that he implanted in our brain...
was some kind of electronic first-aid kit.
The Seeker's way of trouble-shooting if anything went wrong.
Well, what's wrong with all of you? Come on, I said I was sorry.
-You know this fellow? -No.
No.
Who are you?
Very funny.
Fuck you!
-Oh, you wimp. Oh, you wimp. -Oh, the baby.
Walk away, buddy.
Can't take it. Dish it out but can't take it.