American Horror Story

American Horror Story

American Horror Story (sometimes abbreviated as AHS) is an American anthology horror television series created by Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk. Each season is conceived as a self-contained miniseries, following a different set of characters and settings, and a storyline with its own "beginning, middle, and end." Some plot elements of each season are loosely inspired by true events. The only actors to be present in all iterations are Evan Peters and Sarah Paulson with Lily Rabe and Frances Conroy appearing in all but one of the seasons each. The first season, retroactively subtitled Murder House, takes place in Los Angeles, California, during the year 2011, and centers on a family that moves into a house haunted by its deceased former occupants. The second season, subtitled Asylum, takes place in Massachusetts during the year 1964, and follows the stories of the patients and staff of an institution for the criminally insane. The third season, subtitled Coven, takes place in New Orleans, Louisiana, during the year 2013, and follows a coven of witches who face off against those who wish to destroy them. The fourth season, subtitled Freak Show, takes place in Jupiter, Florida, during the year 1952, and centers around one of the last remaining American freak shows and their struggle for survival. The fifth season, subtitled Hotel, takes place in Los Angeles, California, during the year 2015, and focuses on the staff and guests of a supernatural hotel. The sixth season, subtitled Roanoke, takes place in North Carolina during the years 2014–2016, and focuses on the paranormal events that take place at an isolated farmhouse haunted by the deceased Roanoke colony. The seventh season, subtitled Cult, takes place in the fictional suburb of Brookfield Heights, Michigan, during the year 2017, and centers on a cult terrorizing the residents in the aftermath of the 2016 U.S. presidential election. The eighth season, subtitled Apocalypse, takes place in California during the years 2018-2021 and features the return of the witches from Coven as they battle the Antichrist from Murder House and attempt to prevent the apocalypse. The series is broadcast on the cable television channel FX in the United States. On January 12, 2017, the series was renewed for a ninth season, with a two-season renewal alongside Apocalypse. On August 3, 2018, the series was greenlit for a tenth season. Although reception to individual seasons has varied, American Horror Story largely has been well received by television critics, with the majority of the praise going towards the cast, particularly Jessica Lange, who won two Emmy Awards, a Golden Globe Award, and a Screen Actors Guild Award for her performances. Kathy Bates and James Cromwell each won an Emmy Award for their performances, while Lady Gaga won a Golden Globe Award. The series draws consistently high ratings for the FX network, with its first season being the most-viewed new cable series of 2011.

Year:
2011
8,727 Views

Myrtle Snow:
So, before we move on to our lobster poch? beurre, a little melon ball palate cleanser. Remember back in the day, Pembie? We'd always be served a palate cleanser at Sunday supper.

Cecily Pembroke:
Such a sensible tradition, nobody bothers anymore.

Quentin:
Now, Myrtle, Pembie and I were just saying in addition to how thrilling it was to get your phone call, we-we...

Cecily Pembroke:
I've... we've... just had terrible regrets about the whole misunderstanding.

Quentin:
And we cannot get over your skin.

Cecily Pembroke:
Ah. No burn scars.

Quentin:
You look younger than ever. We-we've got to hear all about this Misty Day and her magical mud. Should we be looking into it? Selling it, perhaps?

Myrtle Snow:
You miss the point, darling. The swamp mud is a metaphor, her metaphor. She's a sophisticated witch with extraordinary gifts, hiding out as a hippie swamp rat. From humble hillbilly stock, she's been a witch since birth, her power and humanity separating her from everyone around her. In fact, those around her have tried endlessly to destroy her, in order to mask their own evil purposes. Yet she rose from the ashes, stronger than ever, more fully realized. A living testament to the greater ideals of our coven. Power, compassion, and uniqueness... We are lucky to have found her, and she us. It resonates with my own story, doesn't it?

Cecily Pembroke:
Myrtle, I want to toast you. For your spirit of... f... give...

Myrtle Snow:
Forgiveness, you say? Forgiveness is, and always will be, the high road... the preferred road. Would that we had such luxury. Oh, Quentin. Not to worry. It's just a bit of monkshood in your balls. Causes temporary paralysis. "Human Statue Syndrome," we call it. I believe it's the nervous system first. You lose control over your limbs, the muscles harden into cement, and it feels like ice in your veins. Then the respiratory system. Or is it the other way around? Well, no matter. It's supposed to be quite terrifying, is it? Are you terrified? You should be. At any rate, I'm not going to kill you. Well, maybe after dessert. I put a lot of effort into the key lime pie. I do love a key lime pie, even more than a ile flottante. Call me a Philistine! Enough chit-chat. You've both wanted to eliminate me for years, so you could dominate the Council. But I was never worried you'd be hapless enough to try. Quentin! You're a fatuous fool and a drunk! Pembie, you're even worse. You're weak-willed, boring, and your fashion faux pas give me nightmares. I invited you here not to chastise you or exact revenge, But to help out the coven. To help out my beloved Cordelia. Ha! I bet you thought, "Oh, she left the melon baller in there. She's growing old and forgetful!" [scoops out Pembroke's left eye with the melon baller]

Madame Delphine LaLaurie:
History will tell you - Not that anyone today gives a royal you-know-what - that I was born to prominent members of New Orleans society. Although my mother's maiden name was Lovable... she did not pass that quality along to me, her daughter. I suppose I was an unhappy child. Not very nice, either. I kept to myself, communing with rodents and small animals. Cutting parts off to see how they'd fare, or if they'd die. No one thought I'd amount to much, but I surprised them all. I married well. My lavish soir?es became a coveted invitation. How the mighty have fallen does not begin to describe my torment. When I'm not cleaning their filthy commodes or putting food in front of their greedy faces, washing their sex-stained sheets, cleaning up their general filth, I pass desperately long and lonely days and nights, fretting over the deterioration of my troubled mistress' body and soul. Watching her leave the house each evening without her undergarment, not to return 'til the wee hours. And then I realized what was missing in my life. Lately I've been asking myself just what is it that fed my soul back then. Because being a hostess was never enough for my restless mind, and I realized it was my childlike curiosity about how my n*ggers ticked. Much like when I was a child and I used to carve up a possum or a stray cat. I just... developed a scientific fascination for their... their body parts... and their organs... and their cries of agony. They made a strange... almost comforting sound. Almost like... a musical background. And their thick African blood just... satisfied a desire that was deep inside me. And then you appeared. Like an old friend from the past.

Myrtle Snow:
Come in Zoe, sit down. I have something for you. Good God, chickie, don't look at it! You'll be blinded by the sheer craftsmanship.

Zoe Benson:
Um... okay. What is it?

Myrtle Snow:
My only possession of value. A sapphire and topaz harvester ant made for me by Joel Arthur Rosenthal, the Faberg? of our time. The harvester ant is one of *the* most venomous creatures in the world, along with Fiona, and JAR - as the world knows my dear Joel - toiled on it for months.

Zoe Benson:
Do you want me to wear it?

Myrtle Snow:
You could never pull it off, darling. Only Lee Radziwill and myself could do it justice. Now listen to me carefully: I want you to hock it in case of emergency.

Zoe Benson:
I'm completely lost here.

Myrtle Snow:
You're leaving this coven, Zoe. And you're taking Kyle with you.

Zoe Benson:
I do love Kyle, Myrtle... But I'm not leaving.

Myrtle Snow:
I watched you and Kyle together at Nan's funeral. Such a pair. So much in love. As the great Keats would say, "More happy love! More happy, happy love! Forever warm and still to be enjoyed. Forever panting and forever young." I had a love like that once. Egon von Furstenberg. He dumped me, but everything worked out all right in the end. You know why? because he went on to marry the divine Diane. And without Egon's support, Diane von Furstenberg never would have created the greatest invention of the century, the wrap dress! If you stay here, your life is in grave danger.

Zoe Benson:
I can handle Madison.

Myrtle Snow:
She'd slit your throat then sleep like a baby. I understand Madison. The depth of her cynicism. Go. You and Kyle. Run away together and start your life over.

Zoe Benson:
I'm committed to this coven.

Myrtle Snow:
So was I, and I burned at the stake for it.

Zoe Benson:
What if I'm the next Supreme?

Myrtle Snow:
All the more reason to run. If Madison doesn't end you, Fiona will. Zoe... you have a boy that loves you.

Zoe Benson:
Because he's damaged goods.

Myrtle Snow:
[slaps] How dare you be so unromantic and so very, very selfish. Our dear Cordelia plucked her eyes out to protect this coven, and you have the gall to ignore my words of warning and support? Now... take these tickets to Epcot and my JAR jewels and pack your bags.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
How did you get in here?

Pepper:
I go where Grace goes. I've been charged to protect her.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
Have you? You can't even protect yourself. They may have given you speech, Pepper. Even a parrot can be taught to mimic. But did they give you the capacity to think? I sincerely doubt it. Tell me, Polly- What did they put inside her?

Pepper:
I won't tell you anything.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
If you're not going to tell me then I'll just have to find out for myself, won't I?

Pepper:
X-rays will harm the life growing inside of her.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
That's a chance I'm willing to take.

Pepper:
Stupid man. You think they'd allow you to continue your barbaric practice? She's protected. Your X-rays won't penetrate her body. You'll see nothing. Oh, but they've been watching you. You think you're like them, with your clumsy experiments. But they laugh at you, Dr. Arden. They make jokes. Here's a good one. Knock, knock. Who's there? Arden. Arden who? Arden you the quack who'd make a better duck? [laughs]

Dr. Arthur Arden:
Huh. Well, if taking X-rays won't work... perhaps more invasive observation will. I think her condition calls for an emergency C-section, don't you?

Pepper:
You can't do that.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
Watch me. [Scalpel flies out of his hand and clatters on the floor]

Pepper:
Dr. Arden, you still see me as microcephalic. No one takes a pinhead seriously. When my sister's husband drowned her baby and sliced his ears off, he told everyone I did it. They tied me up and paraded me in front of the judge. He took one look at the shape of my head, and I was locked up for good. That's how it works with us freaks. We get blamed for everything. But if something happens to Grace in here, and she's harmed in *any* way, there won't be anyone else to blame. They'll take you, open up your head... and stir your brain with a fork. Then, when you return, you'll experience firsthand how people treat us freaks. I'll take care of Grace. Why don't you go to your whore nun, have her soothe your deflated ego.

Fiona Goode:
Your powers, you've been feeling them growing?

Madison Montgomery:
Yeah, like crazy.

Fiona Goode:
Have you ever wondered why?

Madison Montgomery:
Uh, apart from my being awesome?

Fiona Goode:
*I'm* the source! My life force is literally pouring out of my body and into yours. This is no mystical mumbo-jumbo, this is real. I have cancer. I won't last the year.

Madison Montgomery:
I have connections. My agent can get the best oncologist in the country here in a flash.

Fiona Goode:
[laughs] Chemo? Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I'm not going out bald and shriveled and... begging for morphine. No. I've lived a disreputable life, but I've done it in style, and I'll die likewise. I don't belong on these walls. I took my inheritance too soon. Squandered it. All that... power, all those gifts. I just took it and poured it back into myself and dressed it up in Chanel. I was a shitty Supreme. But now, my mentor, Anna-Lee Leighton - Now there was a Supreme. She was majestic and powerful. She taught me everything I know. You know how I thanked her? By cutting her throat. Right where I'm standing. [pulls out knife] With this. I've kept it all these years. And now, I give it to you.

Madison Montgomery:
Why? I don't want that.

Fiona Goode:
Yeah, come on, here. Take it.

Madison Montgomery:
No.

Fiona Goode:
Don't be afraid. Use it. Kill me for the sake of the coven.

Madison Montgomery:
No. No.

Fiona Goode:
Yes. Come on, now, do it!

Madison Montgomery:
I can't!

Fiona Goode:
Yes, you can, you stupid girl! Do it and feel my power flow into you! I know, because I was standing where you're standing!

Madison Montgomery:
Stop yelling at me!

Fiona Goode:
Do it! Do it!

Madison Montgomery:
[screaming] No!

Fiona Goode:
Do it! [cuts Madison's throat]

Sister Mary Eunice McKee:
Rubies are the most glamorous of all. You couldn't have found them in this dreary town. Are they family heirlooms?

Dr. Arthur Arden:
They belonged to a Jewess in the camp. She was always reminding people that she was a woman of considerable means, and that her husband was an influential and wealthy doctor in Berlin. She was constantly complaining to me about her stomach problems, and as a doctor, I thought I ought to do something about it. So I followed her, one day, to the latrine, thinking I might diagnose her condition if I had a stool sample. She was in there, on her hands and knees, picking through her own feces to retrieve those earrings. She confessed to me that she swallowed them every day, day after day, carrying them around inside of her, as if, someday, she might return to her former grandeur. Poor, ridiculous woman, she died from internal bleeding. The earrings were very hard on her intestines. Obviously, I retrieved them. I knew someday I'd meet someone who was worthy of their exceptional beauty.

Sister Mary Eunice McKee:
You were very clever to retrieve them, Arthur. Look how beautiful they are on me. They bring out the rose in my cheeks. Oh, you're such a sap!

Dr. Arthur Arden:
Not exactly for the reasons you may think, but a sap nonetheless. I so dearly hoped you'd throw them back in my face, that you couldn't bring yourself to touch those sh*t-stained earrings. I was hoping there'd be a glimmer of horror, a glimmer of that precious girl who was too afraid even to take a bite of my candy apple.


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