HI removed, cleaned, sync corrected and tons of dialog dashes fixed by Tronar
Wow! Ho-ho!
Wow, Janet, you did it! You brought us into your void.
If I had a heart, it would be pounding.
- Michael... - You know, you'd think
there'd be side effects, but I feel great.
How's the hair? Is it still amazing?
Michael, there may have been
some side effects for the humans.
Huh.
Dude, why are there so many Janets?
And why do I sound like Janet?
You also look like Janet. Do I?
Why? What? What is happening?
Oh, no, am I...
wearing a vest?
Ooh, Michael, help me!
This is going to be tricky. How do we even tell them apart?
Oh!
Okay, that one's Jason.
I can't put the humans back in their own bodies,
so I've done the next best, but still not that great, thing.
A high-neck sleeveless?
- I suppose this outfit will do? - Are you sure?
I mean, wearing a floral print to an infinite void
at this time of the nothing?
So where are we exactly? We're not on Earth, right?
That's correct, Chidi-Janet. You're not.
Your real bodies dematerialized when you entered my void,
and your essences reconstituted themselves in this form.
Cool, cool. And when you say "void"...
Oh, I mean a sub-dimension outside of space and time
at the nexus of consciousness and matter
tethered to my essence.
Does that help?
It does not help. It makes it way worse.
I just want to lie down.
Where is down?
I found it. It's up here. It's dope.
I have an idea.
Sweet. I call sofa.
Janet's void has a back door
to the Janet warehouse in the Neutral Zone,
which is right near Accounting.
You four will stay here
while Actual Janet and I sneak through it
and find the Head Accountant.
But, Michael, why can't we go with you?
Well, you just died, which means you're
the first humans in history to not immediately go
to the Good or Bad Place, which, in turn,
makes you inter-dimensional fugitives.
So that's neat.
Also, the Judge is probably still pissed at me
for, you know, breaking all the rules,
and she might take it out on you.
Plus, the Bad Place is probably hunting for us,
so, literally, the entire universe is against you.
Okay, but what's a fourth really good reason?
Jeez, just trying to lighten the mood... tough void.
Now, Janet and I will pose as Good Place employees
and sweet-talk the Accountant into showing us his books.
If I'm right, we will find proof
that the Bad Place is tampering with the point system.
The Accountant will tell us what to do,
and this will all be over.
We're almost at the end, guys.
Just stay here, keep Janet's heads on straight.
Bye.
Is that a Good Janet or a Bad Janet?
That's a Neutral Janet.
She's sort of the black sheep of the Janet world.
Or blank sheep, I guess.
Ooh, I can throw shade now. That's cool.
You've arrived at the Accounting Office.
All point calculations
for actions taken on Earth are made here.
- End of conversation. - My name is Michael.
I need to speak with the Head Accountant
on official Good Place business.
I will inform the Head Accountant
of your presence, and he either will or will not see you
in a certain amount of time... end of conversation.
Wow.
Good thing your void plan worked out, huh?
♪ Believe in life after love? ♪
Oh, having four humans in my void is weird.
This is nuts.
We're in a void in the body of a white lady.
- Not a lady. - Not a lady, darling.
Well, we are white.
Let's all say white people things!
Billy Joel. I found it on Etsy.
There was nowhere to park. Did you refill the Brita?
I find this void quite calming, actually.
It's like, this time, the Xanax took me.
Oh, I have the worst stomachache.
Dude, relax.
Here, let me see if I can figure this out.
Oh, wow, Eleanor! How'd you do that?
I don't know. We're Janets now.
So I thought we'd have some bitchin' Janet powers.
What just happened? What did you do?
Sorry, I'm just trying to help Chidi calm down...
The structural integrity of this void is already at risk.
You can't start randomly conjuring up objects,
or it might shatter the void.
Yes, it might.
It might make everything blow up,
and we'll all disappear forever.
Mwah. So stop it!
Everything okay?
- Nope. - Well...
The Head Accountant has decided to see you.
This will happen now. End of conversation.
Hi.
Hey-o!
There they are. Good to see you.
Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Neil, Head Accountant.
- You must be Janet and Michael? - Yes.
Can I just say, I really depreciate you coming.
Huh? A little bit of accounting humor.
- Ah. - Yeah.
- So what can I do for you? - Well, I'm concerned
about certain anomalies in the point system.
I'm worried that, somehow,
the Bad Place has been tampering.
Tampering? No, no, no.
Quite impossible. Laughable, really.
Janet, can you remind me to laugh at that later?
Your amusement has been scheduled.
End of conversation.
She's a lot of fun.
Could you just humor us, though?
Show us how the system works?
Uh, well, I suppose I could give you a quick tour.
We don't get a lot of visitors. Follow me.
Eleanor, how'd you know
I always wanted a dog like this?
Funny story, it's one of the things
I saw in the alternate timeline,
where we were soul mates on and off for 300 years.
Maybe we should talk about that?
Well, I suppose we can,
but there's not that much to talk about.
The things you saw weren't part of my life,
so they didn't happen to me.
What the hell are you talking about, man?
Of course it was you. I saw it.
Well, it was a Chidi, sure, but it wasn't me Chidi.
This is a classic philosophical question.
The concept of the self, or who we are.
Philosophically speaking,
there's the Chidi I am, who lived a certain life,
and there's the Chidi you saw...
your soul mate or whatever,
who had some entirely different life.
They're not the same Chidis.
I'm so sorry. Yeah, no, I get it.
Counterpoint... that's the dumbest thing you've ever said,
and you do not deserve a puppy!
I'm un-blooping your puppy!
Things are getting cuter,
and I want them to get less cute!
So this is the main feed.
Every action by every human on Earth is recorded
and then sent here to be assigned a point value
based on the absolute moral worth of that action.
For example, a couple in Osaka, Japan,
just decided to have a destination wedding.
Negative 1,200 points.
Oh, and it's a destination theme wedding.
Negative 4,300.
The theme's "Lord of the Rings."
They're basically doomed.
Ah, here's one.
This means that someone has just done something
which has never been done before.
"Richard Moore of Sugarland, Texas,
"hollowed out an eggplant
and filled it with hot sauce and nickels."
And amazingly, it's not a weird sex thing.
99% of all new human behaviors are weird sex things.
But not in this... oh, no, it is a weird sex thing, yeah.
Well, then we zip that over to the relevant departments.
In this case, Anastasia in the Stuffed Vegetable Department.
We've got Hector over in American Coins,
and my dear buddy, Matt, in Weird Sex Things.
I'm still waiting on a response to the request I filed
for immediate suicide.
Request denied.
I love Matty. He's hilarious.
So they now examine the action...
its use of resources, the intentions behind it,
its effects on others.
Correct. And you end up with this.
And here is why tampering is impossible...
because this score is then double-checked
by 3 billion other accountants, all chosen at random,
and if they all come to the same conclusion,
which they always do, it makes this official.
Anyone who does this same action
in the exact same way loses this many points.
When people die, their biographical history
and final point totals are sent to the relevant destination.
This batch is going to the Bad Place.
Thank you, Doris.
The system is flawless, and tampering is quite impossible.
I see. Could we look at one
specific file, though, just to make sure?
Oh, who do you want to see...
Genghis Khan, Marie Antoinette?
Walt Disney's got some freaky stuff in his file.
Doug Forcett.
I don't get this, man.
Why wouldn't you want to know what our life was like?
You're not even a little bit curious what it was like
to hit this?
I don't mean thisthis.
Although, frankly, I would also hit thisthis.
I don't want to see those memories
because, philosophically speaking,
they're none of my business.
They happened to someone else.
Let me explain.
Take a seat.
Conceptions of the self.
Let's start with John Locke, who believed
that personal identity was based
on having a continued consciousness...
essentially, memory.
Memories are links in a chain
that together form a single self.
If I can't remember what happened
because it happened to a Chidi from another timeline,
it's not a unified me.
Just because you don't remember doing something
doesn't mean you didn't do it.
I have no idea how it happened,
but there is definitely a tattoo on my butt
that says "Jasom."
That leads us to Derek Parfit.
- It does? - Parfit said
even if I have memories from an earlier time,
that doesn't necessarily mean it was me.
After all, if my brain was split in two
and each half was put in a different person,
which one is me?
All I know is that other Chidi
doesn't exist anymore, and this one does.
So this must be the real Chidi.
And all I know is that you're just
barfing Wikipedia all over everyone
to avoid talking about your feelings.
Let's talk about David Hume.
Here we go, the Book of Dougs.
Let's have a look.
Doug Forbush, Doug Forcap...
Doug L. Forcett.
Hey, no peeking. Accountants only.
Can you just tell me his total so far?
Looks like he's at 520,000 points.
- Well done, Doug. - So that's... that's good?
Oh, it's excellent.
Wait, he's 68 years old?
Oh, that's terrible. He's screwed.
I knew it!
Doug has spent his entire life being nothing but good.
He once found a dollar on the ground,
and he sent it to the Canadian government
to help pay down their national debt.
And he isn't even close to getting in?
How can that be?
Look, mate, the points are indisputable.
They have been since the beginning.
"Og Gives His Rock to Grog."
First ever act of human altruism.
Og earned 10,000 points that day.
Of course, then Grog used that rock
to beat Og's brains in and lost a million points.
The point is, the math is cold, objective, and airtight,
and unless you can prove otherwise,
I don't know how I can help you.
I just got 700 new Weird Sex Thing files
in the last one second.
Oh, yeah, Burning Man just started.
Buckle up, Matty. It's going to be a long week.
So, in essence, Hume thought
that we don't truly have a self.
We're just a bundle of our ever-changing impressions.
Just admit it, man. You're embarrassed
you fell in love with an Arizona trash bag.
Eleanor, it's not personal.
Someone fell in love with you.
It's just not me.
I told you not to conjure anything.
Sorry, I-I just swapped the living room for a classroom.
Not you, him.
- Jason, what is wrong with you? - Sorry, Janet.
I didn't mean to conjure Pillboi.
I was just thinking about how much fun we used to have
hanging out in his broken hot tub,
and then he showed up,
Yeah, I was just chilling, being nothing,
and then all of a sudden, I was.
Oh!
Good-bye, Pillboi.
Aw, dip. I'm not again!
Oh.
You need to hurry.
My molecular essence is fragmenting,
and it's giving me the worst headache.
Okay, here's a question.
If Doug Forcett's not getting in, who is?
Let's look at one more file...
someone who... who's gotten into the Good Place this year.
All right, why don't we look at...
No one. No one got in.
No one's gotten in for a year?
Correct.
How about the last three years?
All right, uh, boo-doo-doo...
Uh, no one.
When was the last time someone got in?
The last time someone got enough points
to get into the Good Place was...
521 years ago.
Michael, um...
Yo, homey.
You and Eleanor were fighting before,
and I couldn't help but overhear.
Hey, if we hear with our ears,
why is it called "butt overhearing"?
Bro, if you don't like her, you should just tell her.
It's not about whether I like Eleanor.
I got into philosophy to try to make sense
of a world that almost never makes sense.
And that was before I learned that I died
and then un-died and then re-died.
I just can't take one more thing.
It's too much.
I'm going to tell you a story.
Back in Jacksonville, there was this guy
in my 80-person dance crew named Stank Toby.
Hang on. It was a 60-person dance crew.
Um...
Oh, dip! What are numbers?
You're not Jason-Janet.
You're Eleanor-Janet pretending to be Jason-Janet.
That is so wrong and so confusing!
What was I supposed to do, man?
You wouldn't talk to me.
This seemed like the only option.
Hi, Chidi, I'm Eleanor.
I'm Arizona shrimp horny.
That's not what I sound like, Jason.
- Get out of here. - Oh, dip.
Look, you know what? Just forget it.
What am I even doing?
I'm... I'm chasing a dude who isn't into me.
I'm making myself vulnerable for no reason.
I don't even know who I am anymore!
Uh-oh. This is new.
I'm so annoyed at myself.
Gah! Stupid, Eleanor! Stupid!
This whole thing sucks, you know?
Eleanor, you... you're not...
The one thing I never wanted to do,
ever, for any reason, was to follow some guy around
like a lame puppy dog!
I mean, look at me. I don't need to do that.
I can get any guy I want.
- Eleanor, just hang on. - What, dude, what?
- What do you want? - What is going on?
Okay, well, this is bad.
Why are you staring at me?
Do I have a zit on my nose or something?
Your sense of self is crumbling,
and it's taking the void down with it.
Great. So I don't feel like myself for two seconds,
and it breaks the universe?
How come nothing went wrong when Chidi freaked out
about his identity for three hours?
Because freaking out about everything is my identity.
Not to brag.
I need you to hold it together.
Try to do something Eleanor-y.
Laugh at someone who falls down,
or show up to an event under-dressed
and get mad at everyone else somehow.
I'll be right back.
I know I asked you this before, but...
No, darling, this is not where the Mac and PC guys live.
Whoa! Check out this dope flat-screen!
It's air-mounted! Do you see this, Tahani?
This must be where Janet stores all her information.
This screen can literally show us
anything that has ever happened.
Cartoons, cartoons!
I think it's broken.
TV, play cartoons for Jason!
Oh, my. Janet has a crush on you.
I'm sorry.
It's not just a crush.
I think in one of the reboots, you and Janet were married.
Whoa, married?
Oh.
This flat-screen must have been a wedding present.
It's all starting to make sense now.
Well, I've got to run.
We're having a little thing in the break room
for Marisol's birthday.
She turning 39,000,000... again.
So, if there's nothing else...
"If there's nothing else"?
Neil, be logical.
Not one Good Place resident in over 500 years?
Not Jonas Salk? Not Harriet Tubman?
Not one single Golden Girl?
The Bad Place has hacked your system!
No, it hasn't. How dare you?
Frankly, I'm beginning to resent your tone, sir.
If you've got a problem, then go to the Good Place
and take it up with the Committee.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have to get to the break room,
because there's cake over there,
and if I don't move quickly,
Erika will get the last corner piece.
Good day, sir!
No, no, no. This can't be happening.
No, he was supposed to tell us what to do.
If he's not going to fix this, who is?
You, Michael.
It has to be you.
We keep wandering around these different realms
expecting someone else to have the answer,
but no one ever does.
You're the guy, Michael.
You're the only one who can fix
whatever's wrong with the afterlife.
But before we get into that,
Eleanor's identity is shattering inside of my void,
and I might blow up.
So I'm going to need you to grab a paper clip
and marbleize me, like, yesterday.
What's going to happen to the humans?
No idea, but I can't take them out of my void
in the middle of this office.
And if we do nothing, everyone's gone-zo.
Marbleize me, get us somewhere safe, and bring me back.
Right, a paper clip! I need a paper clip!
Hey, Matt. Do you have a paper clip?
What are you going to use it for?
- Chidi, I'm scared. - I know.
What am I supposed to be doing right now?
I don't remember.
I'm having a hard time remembering.
Right.
Memories, you need to remember who you are.
You're Eleanor Shellstrop from Phoenix, Arizona.
Your favorite meal is shrimp scampi.
You listed your emergency contact as Britney Spears
as a long-shot way of meeting her,
and your favorite movie is that clip
of John Travolta saying "Adele Dazeem."
You flew halfway around the world
because you wanted to be a better person,
and it was very brave.
You're sharp, and you're strong.
You make fun of me a lot.
You once called me a human snooze button.
But you also showed up in my classroom
when I was drowning in despair and canned chili,
and you basically saved my life.
You have very high self-esteem,
and a very low tolerance for men who wear sandals,
and your worst nightmare
is someone saying something nice about you to your face,
but too bad because I need to say it
because you deserve it.
- Because... because... - Chidi...
Nice work, bud.
Did you mean everything you said,
or did you just say it because the world was ending?
I really want to play this cool,
but I'm afraid that I'm going to ruin it
if I try to be sexy.
I already ruined it.
Um, saying the word "sexy" is not sexy...
- Wait! - Ooh!
I'm okay.
- Are you sure? - Yes, I'm okay.
- Wait. Uh-oh. Ooh. - What?
They're not Janets anymore.
They're them, and they're not sitting well.
Incoming.
They're all here, and they're safe...
From the old scary thing.
Now there's a new scary thing.
Hi, guys, I'm Neil. Welcome to Accounting.
Now, it does seem that four of you
are inter-dimensional fugitives,
so I did go ahead and hit the alarm... sorry about that.
But there is some good news. There's some cake left.
Yes!
Michael, what are we going to do?
Guys, I'm so sorry.
- The Accountant was no help. - Rude.
No one's gotten into the Good Place in 500 years.
We have no plan. No one's coming to save us.
So...
I'm going to do it.
Follow me!
Corner piece! No!
You can't take the Book of Dougs.
Accountants only.
I need one of you to volunteer
to do something outrageously insane
that will either make you cease to exist
or be really fun.
That's most of the things I've tried.
That's my guy. Come here, come here.
- Get in the tube. - Oh, hell, yeah.
I love getting in stuff.
No way to know what happened to him.
So, come on, let's go, everyone else.
Come on.
Here you go.
Ow!
That was awesome! That was awesome!
I want to go again!
Where are we?
We're in the Good Place.
No offense, dude, but you have told us
a lot of lies in the last 300 years.
So, seriously, where the fork are we?
Fork.
Shirt. Ash hole.
Holy forking shirtballs...
We're in the Good Place.