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ROGUES | S01E14: The Prodigal Son
🕑 Added 2018-11-17 07:38:11 +0000 UTC ROGUES | S01E14: The Prodigal SonJACK: (grunt) Still hurts.
LAURA: Is that better, Mr. Nashton?
JACK: As good as it’s gonna get I ‘spose. And call me Jackie, darlin’, everybody does.
LAURA: (dutiful laugh) I think I’ll stick with Mr. Nashton.
JACK: Y’sure know how to handle a guy, girlie.
LAURA: Uh uh - hands.
EDWARD: (scoff) Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.
LAURA: (gasps)
JACK: Ah, there he is - I told you he’d come. (boastful) Laura, meet Eddie Na-
LAURA: (cutting across, excited) Edward Nygma! Oh, my God.
EDWARD: (pleased) Huh.
JACK: (annoyed) Huh.
LAURA: You’re... you’re The Riddler.
EDWARD: Mm, sometimes.
LAURA: And… and… deputy mayor of Gotham. (flutters) God, how exciting.
EDWARD: (chuckles) How delightful. May I take your hand?
LAURA: Yes. Yes, you may.
EDWARD: Your name is Laura, correct?
LAURA: That’s right. Laura Cameron. It is such a thrill to meet you.
EDWARD: You’ll find that the thrill (kisses her hand) is all mine, Ms. Cameron.
LAURA: Laura, please.
EDWARD: (pleased chuckle)
JACK: (clears his throat)
EDWARD: Alas, my father grows impatient. Would you be so sweet as to give us a moment?
LAURA: Oh! Yes! God, how rude of me. I’ll be outside if you need anything. Just. Outside.
EDWARD: (playful) You better not run away.
(LAURA giggles and leaves; pause)
EDWARD: Jackie.
JACK: ‘Bin a long time. You look good, son.
EDWARD: You bet your ass I do - and a damn sight better than you, you old bastard.
JACK: Yeah, yeah. Take a seat, I wanna talk to you.
EDWARD: Fire away, then - you’re looking less organic with each passing moment, so you better step on it.
JACK: I’ve been tryin’ to get ahold of ya for awhile. Yer not an easy one to track down.
EDWARD: That would be the goal, so mission accomplished there. Wherefore dost thou seek me here and there, father?
JACK: Eh?
EDWARD: Seems I forgot to mentally change gears, before I sat down. Why. Why were you looking for me.
JACK: There’s something I wanna talk to you about.
EDWARD: You want an interview, schedule it with Ophelia - she’s a gem at scheduling people for times when I’m out of office.
JACK: You don’t make this easy, do yeh?
EDWARD: I have no reason to. Speak plain.
JACK: Look - I was hard on you, when you was under my roof. I know I was.
EDWARD: (scoff) Wow. I’ll take “Crippling Understatements” for two thousand.
JACK: I mean yeah, my old man used to hit me too, but - not like I had to for you.
EDWARD: “Had to”, hahaha. We’re sticking with delusional martyrdom, I see.
JACK: (sigh) Eddie…
EDWARD: Get down from your cross, you can’t fool me.
JACK: I’m tryin’ to say we should make peace.
EDWARD: Ohh, naturally. There’s no man more contrite than one on his deathbed.
JACK: It’d be good fer yeh, son. Good for the soul.
EDWARD: You have no idea what’s good for me, father. You never have.
JACK: We could settle things once and for all. Before we lose the chance.
EDWARD: I’d say the sight of you visibly decaying is making me feel pretty damn fine.
JACK: Right, I’ll give you that one. I guess I deserve one good shot.
EDWARD: One? (scoffs) You deserve a firing squad of good shots, old man. I could insult you from now until you expire and you would still be in my debt.
JACK: What’cha sayin’?
EDWARD: (chuckles) There will be no peace between us, in this life or the next. Who the hell are you trying to kid, me or you?
JACK: Then why the fuck’re you here?
EDWARD: To see if in your final moments, you could see yourself for who and what you are. But I see that was naive. Blow your phony peace out your ass; this was a waste of my time.
JACK: You keep your fuckin’ smart ass where it is, you ungrateful little cocksucker. I ain’t done with you and you don’t leave ‘til I fuckin’ say so.
EDWARD: (chuckles) There’s the guy I remember; lovely to see you again, pop. (faux sniffle) It’s just like Christmas. (laughs) Shall I call Laura back in, so she can finally meet the real Jackie?
JACK: Leave her out of it. You can’t find one scrap of shame in that black soul of yours for me, your goddamn father, the man who made you what you are?
EDWARD: You admit guilt then, for what you did?
JACK: I didn’t say that. You’re twisting up my words like you always do, ye little fuckwit. You’re lookin’ for stuff that ain’t there.
EDWARD: Like the origins of my intellect, because it sure as hell wasn’t this empty melon right here. (flicks his head)
JACK: Ow! Get yer fuckin’ hands off.
EDWARD: What is it that you want from me, exactly?
JACK: I told you already, you stupid boy. Peace.
EDWARD: Peace implies… how shall I dumb this down… (slowly) equal responsibility.
JACK: Yeah. And?
EDWARD: What, for all that is good and holy…
JACK: What d’you know about good and holy?
EDWARD Or, just interrupt me, see how that goes for you. I’ll rephrase. What, for all that is evil and sinful, would I have to be sorry for?
JACK: For being a constant, smart-aleck pain in the ass who couldn’t open his fuckin’ fool mouth without some kinda disrespectful bullshit fallin’ out of it.
EDWARD: Hm. Here’s a thought. It has been almost twenty years since I last saw you - you’re only fifty eight, but you look eighty five.
JACK: What you gettin’ at?
EDWARD: The last time I saw you, I was still a child. When a child, say, me, is regularly beaten to within an inch of his life for the sin of speaking and has no right to fight back except with words, should anyone really be surprised that this child still speaks, regardless of personal harm? What choice could you say they had?
JACK: Kids gotta learn their place. Respect their elders.
EDWARD: You thought I would respect you because you put a fist in my face? Oh my Gos that’s a laugh - if that were the case, I’d have to respect police officers, the guards in Arkham, most of my colleagues… and that, that is simply unrealistic; I only have so much respect to give. For pity’s sake, I’m but one man!
JACK: Fuck’s wrong with you? I did what I had to. You was just built wrong; rotten to the core. Always knew it, tried to fix it.
EDWARD: The only way you knew how, right?
JACK: Right! My pop did the same to me, and I turned out fine.
EDWARD: Look. I’m trying to understand. Maybe make you make sense.
JACK: Nuthin’ wrong with me.
EDWARD: I use logic and critical thinking to deal with problems. Have you ever tried to do the same?
JACK: Pff. I always had your fuckin’ number. Bad seed, nuthin’ else; can’t fool Jackie Nashton with your... tricks.
EDWARD: For crying out loud; it’s like talking to an especially insentient brick wall. (laughs) And I’m the criminal. The lunatic! (covers his face with his hands) Oh, you are ridiculous.
JACK: What’s wrong with you now, ya damn nancy?
EDWARD: I swear I can feel my brain melting. (inhale) Okay. So as the parent of what you call a bad seed, it was your god-given duty to beat me into shape like stubborn clay, right?
JACK: Fuckin’ right. Finally, you get it.
EDWARD: (laughing) This is just sad.
JACK: What’s so fuckin’ funny?
EDWARD: Not a thing! Hey, do you want to know why I’m really here?
JACK: (scoffs) Only natural for the Prodigal Son to fall at his father’s feet.
EDWARD: Oh that’s what you believe, is it? That I come to beg forgiveness and repent of my wicked ways at the altar of my sainted father who will bestow the precious gift of his divine mercy upon my craven head?
JACK: If the shoe fits.
EDWARD: Bullshit. I’d sooner drink a bucket of motor oil than beg you for anything. Sainted father? More like pox-ridden old fuck with as much to offer the human race as a pubic louse.
JACK: You shut yer fuckin’ mouth, Eddie, or else.
EDWARD: Or else what? Tell me, pop, who do you think will actually mourn your passing? The money’s on old Charlie down at The Smoking Gun. I can just picture him laying down a little wreath between the March of Dimes and the pickled eggs.
JACK: You would think that, you fucking loon.
EDWARD: Yes, the wrong egg in the nest.
JACK: The fuck does that mean?
EDWARD: I made you sound more quick-witted than you are and thus deserving of my time. That makes me basically talking to myself, like usual; just go with it.
JACK: I get it. You want me to say you’re not my son? If that were true, I’d be so fuckin’ happy.
EDWARD: You know, it would make sense that I was a bastard, but then the mother I knew had neither the spirit nor the spine to lay back and think of ‘Murica for any man but you.
JACK: I told you to shut your disrespectful mouth.
EDWARD: Staring that thousand-yard stare, frozen in place. Just like every other situation!
JACK: You best go see her, and you be sorry for talkin’ about her like that.
EDWARD: Nope.
JACK: Christ. Ellen never deserved a… curse like you.
EDWARD: You defend her with a straight face, and yet you must have sprayed your seed from one end of the Smoking Gun to the other. There’s no hypocrite like a dying one.
JACK: Fuckin’ asshole.
EDWARD: So how many siblings do I really have, Papa Jefferson?
JACK: You fuckin’ know it’s only you and yer sister.
EDWARD: Do I?
JACK: Least my little girl’s got herself right. Knows her place.
EDWARD: And what might that be?
JACK: In the kitchen, or makin’ babies. She does her daddy proud.
EDWARD: Unworthy of her, since that was never what she wanted. Did you ever even ask her?
JACK: The fuck does any girl know? Susie can cook, that’s all she needs.
(EDWARD strikes the chair with an angry grunt)
JACK: Don’t tell me you give two shits about what happens to Susie. When you took off, you left her, too.
EDWARD: I left you before I killed you.
JACK: You both got the same. She’s a good girl; it’s you that was wrong. Roof over your head, food on the table, lovin’ home - what more could you ask for?
EDWARD: How is that you’ve survived this long without choking on your own bullshit? How do those words not stick in your throat?
JACK: I’ve always been an honest man.
EDWARD: Up to a point; I found that out when I visited dear old Father Muldoon before coming here.
JACK: What’ve you done?
EDWARD: I didn’t kill the man, pop. Though he may have rathered that I had.
JACK: What lies you been tellin’ him? I told you he’d never believe a snake like you.
EDWARD: He has come to the realisation that you’re an abusive lowlife who drove his only son away, and not the long-suffering put-upon father you convinced him you were.
JACK: The fuck you say? What did you say to me?
EDWARD: Let’s just say you should fear for your immortal soul. When he does your Last Rites, his heart may not be entirely in it.
JACK: You fuckin’ prick! You’re a goddamn curse on our family. All y’are is lies.
EDWARD: That’s subjective. I mean you believed you did right to beat your son for crimes like being intelligent, so that makes you an honest man in your cotton wool brain.
JACK: You still think you’re better than me, huh? You smug little bastard.
EDWARD: I would never deny that - that would be a lie. I mean - just look at me.
JACK: And what makes you better than me, huh? I know what you are.
EDWARD: Ohh, regale me with your home truths.
JACK: You’re a liar. A thief. And a cheat.
EDWARD: (eye-rolling sigh) This again…
JACK: We’ve seen you on the TV, you know. People ask, that your boy up there? Your mother and me, we say no, our boy’s dead. That mincin’ faggot ain’t our boy.
EDWARD: (laughs)
JACK: Stop laughin’ at me!
EDWARD: That’s still the worst one you’ve got, isn’t it? That’s still the worst thing you can imagine being called. I mean for fuck’s sake, pop - it’s just a word.
JACK: It’s a sin, is what it is, boy. Disgustin’.
EDWARD: Vanity is my official sin. But then, (quoting) nothing makes one so vain as being told that one is a sinner.
JACK: Christ, there’s no saving you. I was stupid to think so.
EDWARD: Finally, something we can agree on.
JACK: (quoting) The evil deeds of the wicked ensnare them; the cords of their sins hold fast.
EDWARD: You know, that gives me an idea. How about we play a little game, old man?
JACK: How about no, ya fuckin’ fruit.
EDWARD: It won’t take long; just watch. (dramatic) Oh, I feel faint.
JACK: The fuck’s wrong with you now?
EDWARD: I think I need a nurse. (calling) Laura - Laura!
LAURA: (coming in) Is everything all right?
EDWARD: Ahh, shining apparition. Be a honey and touch those slender fingers to my wrist, won’t you?
LAURA: What’s wrong, Mr. Nygma?
EDWARD: In what may well be my final moments - call me Edward, I beg you.
LAURA: Okay, Edward - how do you feel?
JACK: (scoff)
EDWARD: Quite overcome. I’m suffering an attack of the vapours.
LAURA: Your pulse is slightly elevated. Would you like some water?
EDWARD: (flirtatious) Mm. Just dash it right in my face.
(LAURA giggling)
JACK: (forcing nice) Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. He’s fine.
LAURA: Are you alright?
EDWARD: If I were any better, it’d be obscene.
LAURA: Is there anything I can do for you?
EDWARD: You can come sit on my knee and tell me about yourself. Better yet - tell me about myself. I like that best.
LAURA: (giggling) Stop that, you.
EDWARD: (flirtatious) Make me.
LAURA: (flustered giggle)
JACK: Laura.
EDWARD: (playful) Ignore him; he’s an imbecile.
JACK: Laura?
EDWARD: Aren’t you going to take my temperature? You might find that’s elevated, too.
LAURA: (giggling) Shh!
JACK: That’s enough, Eddie. Laura - get back outside.
LAURA: (hesitant) Y-yes, of course. If you need me - call and I’ll come right away.
EDWARD: Promise?
LAURA: (trembling exhale) Oh, oh my God.
(LAURA leaves)
JACK: The fuck you doin’?
EDWARD: I think she likes me, Pop; she’s all a-quiver.
JACK: I got no idea what you’re on about.
EDWARD: Still don’t trust your own eyes, hm? Sounds about right.
JACK: What, you after my Laura?
EDWARD: Oh no - I didn’t mean a word of it.
JACK: So you were lyin’. Typical.
EDWARD: You could call it a fantasy sequence, if you like.
JACK: (scoffs) For you, yeah.
EDWARD: No, Laura. Are you so butt-blind that you don’t know when a woman is interested? Wait - no, I know the answer to that one. Never mind.
JACK: Shut up. You are after her.
EDWARD: No, no. Lovely woman, but no.
JACK: Why bother then, if you ain’t gonna do nothin’?
EDWARD: And they say romance is dead.
JACK: Same old friggin’ queer, playin’ your games. Fuck’s wrong with you?
EDWARD: Right now, not a damn thing. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Not without a domino mask, at any rate… looks like you still bring out the best in me, Pop.
JACK: What’yeh yappin’ about this time?
EDWARD: I’m saying - the last time I felt this good, I shot two people in the head.
JACK: … What?
EDWARD: Oops! I’ve never admitted that out loud before - you never know who might be listening, you see. That’s the kind of negligence that gets you tossed into Blackgate, rather than having a well-paid lawyer slip you back into the loving embrace of dear old Arkham.
JACK: … Then why you tellin’ me?
EDWARD: Oh, you’ll be dead soon.
JACK: …
EDWARD: You should be happy. You got more of a confession out of me than Father Muldoon did. And he wanted to hear it.
JACK: My son, the criminal.
EDWARD: So now, I’m your son. I was dead a minute ago.
JACK: Looks like I was right, about you.
EDWARD: Oh, please. Justify it to yourself any way you want - but the dashingly handsome man you see before you today is not the defenceless child you raised your fist to, no matter how psychic you think you are.
JACK: (ignoring him; quoting) A foolish son is a grief to his father, and bitterness to he who bore him. I dunno how many times I had to thump it into your thick head. I am your father, and you will do what I say, when I say it - even now.
EDWARD: Do tell, how do you intend to back up that bold statement?
JACK: I bet I could just slap that sass outta you like before - (grunt as he sits up, but EDWARD stands up and firmly pushes him back down with an “uh-uh-uh”)
EDWARD: We’re past threats at this stage. I mean, at this point I can do whatever I want and you’d be powerless to stop me. (pause) By the way - the reason I came here was to kill you.
JACK: … Huh?
EDWARD: What, you thought I was here to make amends? (laughs) That’s precious.
JACK: … It woulda been your last chance.
EDWARD: No, there’s no happy reunion here; no tears, no forgiveness - what got me in this room was the simple desire to see you die. You see, your old buddy Peterson let me know of your sad decline and well, I just had to drop by, since I was passing; much like yourself.
JACK: ...
EDWARD: I should be the one to kick your bucket for you. I mean, it’s poetic, isn’t it? Since you tried so hard to do the same to me before I grew into someone you couldn’t so much as touch, you pathetic little man.
JACK: You’d never get away with it.
EDWARD: Now there’s a gold-plated cliché - but I think you’ll find I’ve gotten very good at getting away with doing whatever I please. You see these gloves I’m wearing?
JACK: Queer-lookin’ green drivin’ gloves.
EDWARD: Very expensive, queer-looking green leather driving gloves.
JACK: Yeah, so what?
EDWARD: With these, I leave no fingerprints.
JACK: …
EDWARD: It would be a culmination of a lifelong dream - to see the life drain from your eyes by my hands; that the last thing you see would be me, smiling down at you, watching you die, and making sure that you stay dead. For all that you did, and tried to do, to clever little Eddie Nashton.
JACK: (hoarse) Tryin’ to make you into a real man.
EDWARD: If I were feeling particularly merciful, I could take one of your pillows and give you the Cuckoo’s Nest treatment. You think you can fight me off? I doubt it.
JACK: (breathing)
EDWARD: You wouldn’t get an autopsy; you’re too far gone. They’ll assume you expired in your sleep like a good little invalid. And on the same day your long-lost son visited you, too! Oh, so sad. (sinister chuckle) You stupid old fuck.
JACK: (hoarse whisper) I was right about you. I fuckin’ knew it.
EDWARD: Now, this has been a hoot, but as much as I relish having those same old clumsy insults hurled at me like a chimpanzee with its own shit, it’s time for me to go.
JACK: We ain’t done; you sit there until I say so. I am your father, you’re my property, and you still do what I tell you to.
EDWARD: Pathetic. I made you fill your bag just now, and still you attempt to order me around like chattel.
JACK: You’re my son. From the cradle to the grave.
EDWARD: (snort) For my sins.
JACK: No - for mine. You’re my shame and my cross to bear.
EDWARD: Were I the lunatic you believe I am, I would slash your throat open just on principle. You claim the rights of being my father, and yet you deny my existence to anyone who asks. You have an over-inflated sense of your own importance, and believe me - the irony is not lost on me. Now -
JACK: (interrupting) Eddie, I -
EDWARD: (puts his hand over JACK’s mouth; EDWARD grapples with his restraint) I wasn’t finished, Jack - and I do so hate to be interrupted. You know another good thing about these queer gloves? I can shut you up without wanting to retch. Now you listen to me, or I’ll gouge out an eye. Are you listening? (muffled assent) Good. You provided the genetic material necessary to create me, but you get no credit for making me the man I am today. If I were in any way influenced by your parenting skills, I’d be sucking dick on a street corner, begging every man who smacks my face to let me call him Daddy. Everything I am is down to me. You think I regret anything I’ve done? The lives I’ve destroyed, the people I’ve killed? I’ve always done exactly what I wanted to do. And as for you - you are naught but shit on my shoe, and today is the day that I finally wipe you off. (takes his hand away)
JACK: (out of breath) You are gonna kill me then, you evil bastard.
EDWARD: (inhale; pause) No. I’m not going to kill you.
JACK: What? You said -
EDWARD: I know what I said. I meant every word. But you… you’re in such decrepit waste, it would be a mercy killing - and that nonsense is strictly for the heroes.
JACK: Well. What, then?
EDWARD: You’ll have to wait for the reaper to claim you, as you deserve, when you eventually drown in the swirling high tide of your own bodily fluids.
JACK: The fuck? Then what was that about killin’ me?
EDWARD: Sure, I’ve wanted to see you dead since I was eight years old… I still do. You have no idea how much restraint I am currently exercising; culmination dances right in front of my eyes, and all I have to do is reach out and grab it. (pause) But it’s too late now.
JACK: Too late?
EDWARD: Yes. I don’t need to expend any more brain cells on the many ways I could get away with your murder; I can wait for you to die. Take all the time you need; suffer as you go.
JACK: …
EDWARD: The only real tragedy here is that I don’t have the time to watch, or install a camera so I can watch it on repeat with a glass of Sancerre. (small laugh)
JACK: … Mother of God.
EDWARD: (inhale) I feel good. I don’t know about you, but, ooh, I’m feeling so alive.
JACK: I curse the day you were born, Edward.
EDWARD: You do that - consider it a big part of the worthless life you wasted. Now, the real question is: do you think if I ask real nice, Laura will check my prostate? I’m still a little bit young for it, but - (laughs) I was always the precocious one!
JACK: Keep your filthy fuckin’ hands away from my Laura.
EDWARD: You’re right; I don’t think I’d have to ask that nice.
JACK: But - you said - you don’t - what?
EDWARD: Don’t get me wrong, she’s a charming woman; sweet, innocent…
JACK: You said you didn’t want her.
EDWARD: No. But you do. (smiling) Don’t you?
JACK: … You son of a bitch.
EDWARD: (laughs) Your words.
JACK: No, Eddie. I forbid it.
EDWARD: Well then - how about you just leap on out of that bed and stop me. Give me that thrashing I can see in your eyes, just begging to be let out. How dare I speak to you like that?
JACK: Goddamn motherfuckin’ cocksuckin’ sonofa-
EDWARD: I’d even let you throw the first one. Right here on my pretty face; you know, the one that had the gall not to turn out looking like yours. Come on.
JACK: (hiss) Bastard.
EDWARD: (chuckles) I’m… almost disappointed.
JACK: Ohh, if I could… I’d…
EDWARD: Of course you would. This was fun; let’s do it again in another twenty years.
JACK: Don’t you leave -
EDWARD: Now, no expiring in the next half hour - I’m afraid Laura’s going to be otherwise occupied.
JACK: Get back here right the fuck now, boy!
EDWARD: (leaves, laughing)
JACK: Hey! You get back here! You filthy son of a bitch! (calling; fading out as EDWARD leaves)
EDWARD: (laughing) Bye, Pop!
JACK: You’re dead to me! (EDWARD’s laughter fades out)
Comments
Darlingvalkyrie
Riddler you smooth fuck, that is some stone cold revenge. This was intense dude I can feel myself getting frustrated as jack just does not get it. Well done
I had this on in the background today, and I have to say that the tone shift to Ed’s laugh at 22:04 is still *perfectly* sinister. Not ashamed to admit I hit the rewind 15 sec button more than a few times to properly enjoy it.
