The Stranger (Quibi) (2020) s01e10 Episode Script
4:00 AM
[HORN HONKING]
[TIRES SCREECHING]
[PHONE RINGING]
JJ?
[OVER PHONE]
CARL E.: Even better.
It's your imaginary friend, Clare.
- I'm not crazy.
You're just trying to make me
think I'm going crazy.
- Oh, like your high school teacher did?
- How do you know about him?
- Mr. Leonard?
Is that what you called him
when he fucked you on his desk
during fourth period?
- Fuck you.
- [CHUCKLES]
Now we're talking.
- I lost everything.
My family, my friends,
my whole fucking life.
So if it's vengeance that you want,
that's already been taken care of.
- Yeah, so it did happen,
the fucking on the desk.
Why'd you say it didn't?
Why'd you take it back?
- I don't I don't know.
Because no one believed me anyway.
How do you even know what happened to me?
- Because there are no secrets anymore.
It's so easy to find out anything
about anyone on the Internet.
In fact, I've been following you
your whole life.
Or at least your whole online life,
which is the only one that matters.
I'm just one Boo Boo follower among many.
- That's why you're doing this?
You found me online?
- No, you accepted my request.
You wanted more likes.
You opened your door to a monster.
- Fuck you.
You're just a pervert with a god complex.
- Statistically speaking,
people who've endured
severe childhood trauma,
like getting diddled
by one's high school English teacher,
don't get better.
A life of quiet desperation
and consistent underachievement
is what awaits you.
- That or suicide.
- Fuck you.
Fuck your statistics.
I don't care about them.
- Oh, you should.
All you people are algorithms in the end.
The others were so predictable.
- Others?
There are others?
[SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING]
This-this isn't just about me.
Is this some sort of experiment?
- Our time is up.
- No, no, no.
Just-just wait. Please.
I'm not done.
- Yes, you are.
- [OVER PHONE]
JJ.: It's a trap! Don't listen to him!
- JJ? You don't, you don't
have to hurt him. Okay?
- You two sound like
regurgitated movie pablum.
I thought you were a writer.
- JJ: Don't listen
- This is, this is between you and me.
Okay? This is, this is not,
this is not about him.
- Oh.
I got to go.
[SIRENS WAILING]
- Carl, listen to me, please.
- 'Cause here come the po-po.
[SIRENS CONTINUE WAILING]
[TIRES SCREECHING]
OFFICERS: Hands up!
CLARE: I give up.
I give up, okay? I
- Don't move!
- Keep your hands in the air
where I can see them.
No sudden movements.
Turn around.
Remain calm.
[♪♪♪]
[INDISTINCT CHATTER]
[DOOR OPENS]
- I'm not gonna run anymore.
There's no point.
We didn't kill that cop.
- I know.
We pulled footage from an ATM camera
of you and your friend
on the opposite side of downtown
when the execution
of Officer Connelly occurred.
But still,
a cop is dead.
The whole city is on red alert
with a dead cop
and that murdered Salvadorean woman.
Everyone thinks it's the second coming
of Manson and friends,
thanks to you and your bullshit.
So this is what's gonna happen.
You're gonna open up
that pretty little mouth,
and whatever comes out
better put an end to this nightmare.
Understood?
- I want my phone call first.
- Make your fucking call.
[DOOR OPENS, CLOSES]
[LINE RINGING]
[OVER PHONE]
CARL E.: Phone sex again?
You slut.
CLARE: Is that how you picked us?
The ones who shared their tragedies
on social media?
- And the ones like you
who wanted second chances.
A new life.
All the others gave up pretty quickly
once I showed up to test them.
They were weak.
Not you, though.
- Carl, why are you doing this?
- I will break you.
No one beats the math.
- Stop talking in fucking riddles.
- It's not a riddle.
It's a simple fucking premise.
Can you change, Clare?
I think not.
In fact, I'm betting on it,
based on your insipid Facebook posts.
- Facebook? What does that
have to do with anything?
None of the shit
that we put online is real.
- It's the only thing that is real.
They're already able
to predict with 90% accuracy
who will get Alzheimer's
based on people's social media.
And who will be a drug addict.
All with an algorithm.
Why do I do this?
Because whoever figures out
the mathematical formula
determining the losers
and the winners in life
will rule the fucking world.
I mean, seriously, who needs God
when I've got an algorithm?
- But I fucked it up.
I fucked up your algorithm.
I fought back.
Listen to me, Carl.
Whatever it is that you want,
I will give it to you
[SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING]
if you just let him go.
You can beat the math.
You can do it.
You just Please just let him go.
- You dream of Prince Charming
riding up on his trusty steed to save you.
Too bad you can't save him.
When the going gets tough,
the gal that drove 1,617 miles
over the rainbow
breaks down and cries.
Just like you always do.
You want to know how
this story ends, Boo Boo?
- You go to fucking jail?
[PHONE BEEPS]
[DOOR OPENS]
VASQUEZ: It worked. He took the bait.
We got his location.
[HORN HONKING]
[TIRES SCREECHING]
[PHONE RINGING]
JJ?
[OVER PHONE]
CARL E.: Even better.
It's your imaginary friend, Clare.
- I'm not crazy.
You're just trying to make me
think I'm going crazy.
- Oh, like your high school teacher did?
- How do you know about him?
- Mr. Leonard?
Is that what you called him
when he fucked you on his desk
during fourth period?
- Fuck you.
- [CHUCKLES]
Now we're talking.
- I lost everything.
My family, my friends,
my whole fucking life.
So if it's vengeance that you want,
that's already been taken care of.
- Yeah, so it did happen,
the fucking on the desk.
Why'd you say it didn't?
Why'd you take it back?
- I don't I don't know.
Because no one believed me anyway.
How do you even know what happened to me?
- Because there are no secrets anymore.
It's so easy to find out anything
about anyone on the Internet.
In fact, I've been following you
your whole life.
Or at least your whole online life,
which is the only one that matters.
I'm just one Boo Boo follower among many.
- That's why you're doing this?
You found me online?
- No, you accepted my request.
You wanted more likes.
You opened your door to a monster.
- Fuck you.
You're just a pervert with a god complex.
- Statistically speaking,
people who've endured
severe childhood trauma,
like getting diddled
by one's high school English teacher,
don't get better.
A life of quiet desperation
and consistent underachievement
is what awaits you.
- That or suicide.
- Fuck you.
Fuck your statistics.
I don't care about them.
- Oh, you should.
All you people are algorithms in the end.
The others were so predictable.
- Others?
There are others?
[SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING]
This-this isn't just about me.
Is this some sort of experiment?
- Our time is up.
- No, no, no.
Just-just wait. Please.
I'm not done.
- Yes, you are.
- [OVER PHONE]
JJ.: It's a trap! Don't listen to him!
- JJ? You don't, you don't
have to hurt him. Okay?
- You two sound like
regurgitated movie pablum.
I thought you were a writer.
- JJ: Don't listen
- This is, this is between you and me.
Okay? This is, this is not,
this is not about him.
- Oh.
I got to go.
[SIRENS WAILING]
- Carl, listen to me, please.
- 'Cause here come the po-po.
[SIRENS CONTINUE WAILING]
[TIRES SCREECHING]
OFFICERS: Hands up!
CLARE: I give up.
I give up, okay? I
- Don't move!
- Keep your hands in the air
where I can see them.
No sudden movements.
Turn around.
Remain calm.
[♪♪♪]
[INDISTINCT CHATTER]
[DOOR OPENS]
- I'm not gonna run anymore.
There's no point.
We didn't kill that cop.
- I know.
We pulled footage from an ATM camera
of you and your friend
on the opposite side of downtown
when the execution
of Officer Connelly occurred.
But still,
a cop is dead.
The whole city is on red alert
with a dead cop
and that murdered Salvadorean woman.
Everyone thinks it's the second coming
of Manson and friends,
thanks to you and your bullshit.
So this is what's gonna happen.
You're gonna open up
that pretty little mouth,
and whatever comes out
better put an end to this nightmare.
Understood?
- I want my phone call first.
- Make your fucking call.
[DOOR OPENS, CLOSES]
[LINE RINGING]
[OVER PHONE]
CARL E.: Phone sex again?
You slut.
CLARE: Is that how you picked us?
The ones who shared their tragedies
on social media?
- And the ones like you
who wanted second chances.
A new life.
All the others gave up pretty quickly
once I showed up to test them.
They were weak.
Not you, though.
- Carl, why are you doing this?
- I will break you.
No one beats the math.
- Stop talking in fucking riddles.
- It's not a riddle.
It's a simple fucking premise.
Can you change, Clare?
I think not.
In fact, I'm betting on it,
based on your insipid Facebook posts.
- Facebook? What does that
have to do with anything?
None of the shit
that we put online is real.
- It's the only thing that is real.
They're already able
to predict with 90% accuracy
who will get Alzheimer's
based on people's social media.
And who will be a drug addict.
All with an algorithm.
Why do I do this?
Because whoever figures out
the mathematical formula
determining the losers
and the winners in life
will rule the fucking world.
I mean, seriously, who needs God
when I've got an algorithm?
- But I fucked it up.
I fucked up your algorithm.
I fought back.
Listen to me, Carl.
Whatever it is that you want,
I will give it to you
[SOMBER MUSIC PLAYING]
if you just let him go.
You can beat the math.
You can do it.
You just Please just let him go.
- You dream of Prince Charming
riding up on his trusty steed to save you.
Too bad you can't save him.
When the going gets tough,
the gal that drove 1,617 miles
over the rainbow
breaks down and cries.
Just like you always do.
You want to know how
this story ends, Boo Boo?
- You go to fucking jail?
[PHONE BEEPS]
[DOOR OPENS]
VASQUEZ: It worked. He took the bait.
We got his location.