Bail enforcement.
Jeb Tucker, come out with your hands up.
Nowhere to run, Jeb.
Don't make me wrestle you out of this flea trap.
Fuck off!
Fine. Have it your way.
What the fuck?!
Goddamn it, they're stinging me!
Get the fuck off me!
The fuck?! Goddamn it!
Now, I warned you, Jeb.
Asshole, I ain't Jeb Tucker!
Billy earle?
What the fuck are you doing here? Where's Jeb?
- Well, fuck. He ain't here, is he? - Bullshit.
I got a tip he was.
Yeah, dumb-ass.
I know.
Wait. Just wait.
Hel...!
Let me out!
You son of a bitch!
Motherfuckers.
Shit.
What the fuck?
Because the earles are hardcore.
If I back out now, they'll probably slit my throat, too.
Nah, bro, I had to grab a job.
My parents make me pay rent now.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
- Fucking shit. Shit. - Stop.
- What do you want? - Don't move.
What do you want?
Give me those smokes.
You the one that cut me?
No. No, no, no, no, no.
But you work for the earle brothers, right?
Yeah, they hired me to burn the place down. For the insurance.
And they stole my truck, too?
Yeah.
What the hell?
You were dead, bro.
I swear.
Get up. Get on your feet.
Come on. Now.
- Are you dead now? - Turn around. Let's go.
Wait, am I dead?
Are we, like, both dead, man?
Shit. No, no, no. No.
God. Lord Jesus, hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread. Wait. No, no, no.
No, no, no. Shit. Listen, I promise you I won't
tell the earles I'm coming?
I know.
Yeah.
What the fuck is happening?
That you, hub?
I'll be over in a few!
Whose car is that? It about gave me a heart attack.
I'll be right over! Goddamn.
You've reached hall or an bonds.
Leave us a message.
Congratulations on joining the pot o' gold corporate family.
To schedule your orientation with a regional manager...
Keep quiet, or I'll cut your dick off.
Press star.
At the pot o' gold we make the impossible possible.
Fucking telemarketers.
Let's chase the rainbow together.
Mama, I need your help.
I need to find the earle brothers right away.
What's he doing here?
Hub, manners.
You kicked my mama out of your church.
What do you want?
Ron and I were just discussing
your mother and I have been making amends
and discussing her returning
to the congregation... if
if my son would just stop detaining skips during Sunday services.
I'll think about it.
Hub, that is rude. I am so sorry, Ron.
I'll let myself out.
Kitty, come see me anytime you like, and
I'll be praying for both of you.
- Thank you. - Bye, now.
What has got into you?
Mama, I need to find the earle brothers tonight.
- They stole your truck. - Why on earth...?
I thought Billy earle was still in jail.
Posted last Monday.
Yeah, but his brothers don't have that kind of money.
- Who bailed him out? - Lucky Callahan.
Lucky Callahan?
Now don't get all bent out of shape about some mass hole
who don't know dipshit from apple butter.
Lucky will just go away as soon
as you and maryanne work things out,
like you always do.
She just wants you to show up for yourself.
So, the earles were just hired hands.
It was lucky.
Now, what in the world would lucky
want with my old truck?
Well, where you off to now?
I'm gonna go see that piece of shit, show up for myself.
Well, good. It's about time.
'Cause I will not have my grandson
becoming a Red Sox fan
under the tutelage of some carpetbagger.
Do you hear me?
Your luck just ran out, motherfucker.
You've reached hall or an bonds.
Leave us a message.
Congratulations on joining the pot o' gold corporate family.
To schedule your orientation with a regional manager...
Stop it.
It's not for you.
Unless it is.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the oldest and boldest
country music mecca this side of the Mississippi,
the one and only world-famous boxcar!
Now welcome to the stage, the pride of Landry
and the country queen of north Georgia,
miss maryanne dice!
Wednesday. Revue's always on Wednesday.
Hey, hub. How's the hunting?
Hey, long time no see, hub.
Hey, shit bird.
Surprised to see me?
You thought I was dead, right?
Well, I guess not.
Why don't we step outside?
Dad.
Hey, y-you hear mom's new backup band?
Well, I found 'em on TikTok, but they're pretty great, right?
Yeah. They sound good. Nice work, kiddo.
Hey, luck.
There she is.
What a number.
You are a force, babe. Hey, look who's here.
You working tonight, hub, or is that your party vest?
I got a warrant for your boyfriend here,
but I guess I could serve it another time.
You're so full of it.
But I do need to talk to you about something.
You boys want to get us a coke?
Yeah, yeah. Sure thing.
Hey.
I want my mama's truck back.
You're too good to be singing covers, m.
You're a damn sight too good for that empty ten-gallon hat out there.
When you gonna tell him that nobody wears cowboy hats in Georgia?
I know, but he loves it.
And it's sweet.
Sweet?
Lucky is not who
- you think he is, maryanne. - Which one?
He...
He paid some guys to try and slit my throat.
- Is that right? - Yeah, look.
Well, you look pretty okay to me.
I-I just don't want to see you get hurt.
He-he's dangerous, more than I even realized.
Hub... But thank you for saying I look pretty.
Well, you look...
Pretty great yourself, by the way.
Hub, honey
you not being pretty enough
was never the problem.
Now I need you to sign this for me
so I can take Cade out of state.
For what?
To be my stagehand.
I got an audition in Nashville.
Well, look at you.
Congratulations. Who's it with?
Dad?
Someone from a gold pot called for you?
- They said it was urgent. - Yeah, okay.
Thanks, kiddo. Wh-where's Mr. Bighat?
He had to run over to the earles' poker night,
but he says good luck with the show.
I thought he gave up
gambling when he gave up booze.
Just sign the form, hub.
I'll think about it.
Hey, great work with the band, kid.
Pastor Ron?
What the hell?
Nah.
But nice try.
So, lucky hired the earles,
and the earles hired you, right?
You ever been to one of their poker nights?
Ever hear about lucky coming to one?
Yeah, I didn't think so.
Man, I'm sorry, I think I pissed myself.
What's your name, kid?
It's tater.
Or... well, my real name's Tommy Dean.
Thomas, I guess,
but nobody calls me that except for my aunt June on my mama's side.
You can call me whatever you want, though.
You related to Eddie Dean?
Yeah, that's my uncle.
No shit.
Hey, is he still with that gal from Kentucky with the big hair?
Nah, she's in jail.
And he went to Cincinnati.
That's too bad.
Yeah.
For which one of 'em?
Be cool, tater.
Almost there.
Come on, you son of a bitch.
Hey, Princess.
- Shit. - Lucky's not inside, is he?
But you drove his car here as bait.
And your brothers are inside waiting to kill me.
You're supposed to be dead.
Nah. My mama raised me tougher than that.
Fuck.
Move. Get going.
What the fuck?!
Son of a bitch! God!
God.
You were dead.
I take it, then, you're the one that tried to kill me.
Yeah, and you fucked that up, didn't you, Clyde?
He ain't the one that got jumped taking a leak!
Fuck you, bill!
I swear, he was fucking dead!
Shut up! Hands up!
God.
How much is lucky paying you?
Y'all don't say shit! He can't prove nothing!
Ain't no warrants out on us, bondsman.
So go ahead and call the cops on us.
Fuck. Fuck.
You won't.
You ain't no murderer.
Self-defense, hoss.
I'll sleep just fine.
Now, we can talk about you walking out alive once lucky gets here.
Lu-lucky ain't coming.
Yeah, he is.
Once you text him that you're letting me go free
unless he pays cash.
Double.
Shit.
What happened to your card game?
- I didn't want to miss your next number. - Aw.
Yeah, but now I might have to, babe.
Foodco's saying I-I-I underpaid the last delivery.
They want me to go to the bank first thing.
I swear to god, I'm gonna jam my foot so far up
hey, hey, hey. Temper.
Count it.
One, two, three, four, five.
There.
And sleep on it.
No big moves while you're angry, right?
You're my guardian angel.
I'm up next.
Breathe, okay?
And order me some tots for after. I'm starving.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the stage miss maryanne dice!
I still think you're bluffing.
You ain't gonna gun us down in cold blood.
Nah, you're right.
I'll probably just leave you tied up
and light the house on fire.
I can't believe that you guys brought chips and dip to my murder.
Someone's coming.
Whoa. It-it-it ain't lucky.
It's a... It's a pastor.
From a church?
No, dumb-ass, from a piggly wiggly.
Yes, from a church.
Well, praise be. Hey, what are you doing?
Get rid of him and do it quick.
Get up, get up.
Move.
Down. Don't move.
Don't fucking move.
Look, we're all tithed up here this year, pops,
so why don't you...? Pastor?
Y-You know, you don't look so good.
What the fuck?
Get me the fuck out of here!
Clyde!
God! Fucking put me down!
Put me down! No! No!
What the fuck?!
What the fuck is happening, man?!
What the fuck is going on?!
You son of a bitch!
You've reached hall or an bonds. Leave us a message.
Congratulations on joining the pot o' gold corporate family.
To schedule your orientation with a regional manager
and confirm the details of your new employment,
press star.
At the pot o' gold, we make
- the impossible possible. - We're in here, boy.
Let's chase the rainbow together.
Company?
She's from pot o' gold.
Are you shitting me?
You've reached hall or an bonds.
- Leave us a message. - Mr. Halloran.
You are a hard man to get in touch with.
Have a seat.
Congratulations on joining the pot o' gold corporate family.
To schedule your.
I'm here about your orientation.
Yeah.
I'm not interested.
She knows things, hub.
About how you... died.
And went to hell.
Well, you're only standing here now because we brought you back.
At least temporarily.
Think of this like a work release.
And I'm your parole officer.
Which I told her is just plain silly.
And blasphemous.
And I just won't have that kind of talk on my property.
Do you think it's silly, Mr. Halloran?
I'm not the churchgoing type.
But your friend tonight was, though, wasn't he?
Look what good that did him.
Anyway, we don't exactly discriminate.
The last gal doing your job wasn't even Christian.
What job, lady?
You're still a bounty hunter, Mr. Halloran.
But now you hunt demons.
For the devil.
Hub.
Did you or did you not see a demon?
Yeah, I think maybe I did.
Imagine hell is a prison,
and sometimes inmates bust out.
So my job is to hunt demons and send them back.
What do you mean, send 'em back?
- Fuck me. - Kill 'em.
You'll see.
But if you fail to process
any demons assigned to you,
you will be terminated.
Immediately.
So make the most of it.
It's the employees that can find the silver lining
that have the best experience.
Anyway, I plan to be busy.
Something I got to tell you.
And it's definitely gonna sound crazy.
- You have cancer, don't you? - What? No.
Run!
Hub is a demon-summoning psycho from hell.
Lord, you need a holy warrior, like me.
Hub is nobody's idea of perfect.
Anybody can see he has flaws.
- But hell? - Exactly.
Thank you.
You were condemned to hell for what you did.
So you're worried my ex-husband might not be
the right guy to prevent armageddon.
If we fail, it's the end times.
Well, shit.