Sojourn

American Horror Story. Apocalypse

8×8

Michael Langdon: What do you want from me?! What am I supposed to do?! Fuck am I supposed to do?

Hannah: People. Listen the fuck up. Just because we have a president who's a total douchenozzle and global warming is getting worse, that doesn't mean you can sit here on your lazy asses and holler out a few "Hail Satans." You think end-time's just gonna show up like a herpes sore?

Michael: That's actually really nice of you.
Madelyn: What can I say? Nobody's perfect.

Madelyn: So... what's your story? How did you end up all alone and at our beloved Satan's doorstep?
Michael: My father abandoned me. And my mother tried to kill me.
Madelyn: Humanity... is shit.

Madelyn: We've got a greater purpose. We are moving towards the beginning of the end. Our savior is coming. The spawn of Satan will... lead us off the cliff and into the end-times. We just have to make things terrible enough for him to rise.

Hannah: Ladies and gentlemen, the volunteer All-Sinners choir! They really know how to raise some hell, don't they, kids?... And, you ask, why does it rain every time they sing? Because God is pissing in his pants.

Hannah: Well, now that we're in the mood, are you ready for an old-fashioned human sacrifice?

Madelyn: So, what happens next?
Michael: Probably your lasagna.
Madelyn: No, I meant on the global annihilation front.

Madelyn: What do you mean you're not sure?
Michael: I don't know what to do, where to begin.
Madelyn: But you're the Antichrist.
Michael: Which people won't let me forget! Everyone keeps saying that I'm special, that I'm the only one who can bring about the end-times, but nobody gave me a fucking instruction manual!

---

Madelyn: Dead? That's something we can work around.

Madelyn: I want to be in the lowest circle.
Michael: Circle?
Madelyn: However it's structured, I want to be in the worst part. Or the best part. I want to burn in blistering fire for all eternity in service.
Michael: I'll see what I can do.

Office Girl: You don't have to insult me again.
Wilhemina: I certainly don't have to. But why deny myself one of life's simple pleasures?

Jeff: For years we worked 20 hours a day in R&D for a company whose nondisclosure agreements prevent us from mentioning by name. But did Elon give us any credit? Any opportunity for advancement? No!
Mutt: No! The fix is in, man. The world is run by prep school failsons and Russian oligarchs. Everyone else just slaves away trying to make these rich assholes richer.

Jeff: We are your servants, Michael. Now and forever. How can we help, even in the most microscopic of ways?

Mutt: You came to the right place. Our AI tech makes HAL 9000 look like a fucking abacus.

Jeff: No, it's not good enough, bro. Not when your client is the spawn of Satan. Think.
Mutt: I'm thinking!
Jeff: Think harder!
Mutt: I'm thinking!
Jeff: Think faster!
Mutt: We need to make her Mossad.
Jeff: Yeah! Mossad!

Mutt: 240 terabytes of memory, over 11,000 processor cores.
Jeff: She could crush Watson at Jeopardy! and kick the asses of every roided actor in the Expendables franchise.

Mutt: Just don't tell her she's a biomechanical humanoid. At least not at first. It'll send her into the mother of all existential crises. She could end up killing herself, maybe others... Not worth the headache.

Mutt: And now... Kineros Robotics proudly presents... the Battle-Ax-- Miriam Mead 2.0.

Miriam Mead 2.0: How I've missed you, Michael.

--
On the IMDb
+ Soundtracks