1
We are live
at the Angelus Temple,
about to witness the main event
of another roaring service.
Los Angeles' own angel,
Sister Aimee...
is ready this very moment
preparing to perform a miracle.
I confess.
The lost, they flock
to my temple.
But my gift is fading.
Ladies and gentlemen at home,
Sister is about to heal...
your radio host that
your prayers for Sister Aimee
and this immobile woman
in a wheelchair.
Make her walk, Sister.
You can do it.
- Heal her.
- Yes, Sister! Yes!
- Heal her.
- Heal her.
Did you hear that?
Heal her.
I can hear you.
Moses, you say?
The sea, you say?
Come on, Sister, heal her.
Well, folks,
it looks like the Holy Spirit
has indeed spoken to Sister
Aimee, and asked her to...
- Dear Lord.
- Speak.
I can hear you.
And I shall tell
your servant's tale.
Idaho with a blind baby.
Oh, Sister, a baby!
No.
No blind infants.
God doesn't have it in Him tonight.
I can feel it.
What about a case of
moderate gout?
Like Psalm 142,
I am trapped!
The children will be there.
Uh, police will have to shut down the
pier, because of last time.
Thirty-eight hundred?
We saved 3,800 souls this month?
Bless the Lord.
Praise Jesus.
The numbers went down.
- Oh, Sister...
- Down.
Maybe...
if we went back to
focusing on healing again?
Can't you see?
I'm just like them, now...
Tight fucking...
waiting for a miracle...
Uh, um...
Oh.
I'll leave this here for you.
It's... It's chamomile.
My favorite.
Oh, oh!
The whale, it broke.
Oh.
It was its time, Bobby.
I'm not finished.
I... I'm not Bobby.
- What?
- Kenny.
- Bobby...
- Had to go back to Kansas.
Oh.
Uh, Kenneth Ormiston.
Nice to meet you,
I guess, and your
- blue fingers.
- Oh, it comes with the trade.
You actually have
a little bit...
- Radio grease?
- No, it's ink.
- Oh.
- I'm a writer.
Oh.
Anything I've read?
- Well...
- You should talk to Hazel.
Get you published in
one of our newsletters.
Oh, I'm not...
I don't think
that'd be a good fit.
Most people would say,
"thank you."
Oh, thank you. Thank you.
I just... I write about,
um, people.
Not the gods that they create.
What about the God?
Um...
He's a god that they created.
Is he, now?
Oh, um... Ms. McPherson...
- I mean, Sister...
- Aimee.
Aimee.
Look, I have nothing but respect
for people of faith.
It's just that I write
about everyday folk.
You know? Um...
Their lives, their struggles.
Have you ever read Jack Reed?
Insurgent Mexico? No? Okay.
My work is similar
to his, but...
I go more in depth.
I'm currently collecting stories
about the Mexican Revolution.
Why?
You'd have to know Mexico
to understand its significance.
Oh, you're from Mexico?
I'm from Sacramento.
But, you know,
I feel their passions
from afar.
Their writers
and their thinkers...
Ethics.
Men... just yearning
for freedom.
I doubt they need false idols.
No offense.
- Mexico?
- Mmm-hmm.
And you've never been?
No.
No, but I'm gonna go.
When?
Soon.
I have it all mapped out.
See?
I do see.
Tell me a story then, Kenneth.
Hmm? Hmm?
From Mexico.
Of the... common people.
My wife never asks me
about my work. Um...
- Okay.
- Ooh!
Um...
My favorite is called
A Hero With No Name,
and it takes place...
Close your eyes.
Imagine.
It was the bloodiest days
of the Revolution.
The north is decimated.
Ravaged.
Its people are tired,
starving.
One more defeat, just one,
and their cause is lost.
On a starless night,
the great warrior Pancho Villa
is headed to
the northern battlefields
to lend his voice and his sword
to the wavering fighters there.
When out of nowhere...
five enemy soldiers appear.
He's surrounded.
His fate is all but decided.
He's...
He's a dead man.
When...
Five men, one slice.
Who was it?
No one knows.
Just that he was a tiny fellow,
a boy with no name.
You see, he didn't wanna
be remembered as a hero
or a God.
He wanted his greatest victory
as a warrior
to be a victory for his people.
For Mexico.
My God.
You are good.
Oh, my dearest Hazel.
A miracle has happened.
God spoke.
Sister shall vanish.
Sister Aimee!
Sister Aimee is gone! Help!
And I need
you, my beloved disciple,
to tell my story.
Tell us what happened the day
when you and Ms. Semple McPherson
went down to the beach,
Ms. Zalewski.
Hazel. Everyone calls me Hazel.
BROWN Okay.
Hazel?
Well, we went for
our weekend swim,
as always Saturdays,
at the crack of dawn.
You see, Sister enjoys communing
with God's natures on Saturday.
She once said in one of her
most widely regarded sermons
that she feels closest to God
when she is swimming
in our glorious Pacific.
Exercising the body and mind.
One with the cold underneath,
and the warmth above.
Everything was as it always is.
But then, something
peculiar happened.
Sister was there in front of me,
and then she was gone.
An undertow?
Her legs cramped from the strenuous
exercise and pulled her down.
She evaporated.
Say, like The Little Mermaid?
Cock-a-doodle-doo.
My ar... My... My arm.
You're sleeping on my...
Thank you. Ah!
I slept like the dead.
I haven't slept like that in...
I don't even know.
I'll make sure you get your
beauty sleep from here on out.
What do you see?
Mexico.
Oh, I probably think the real thing
will be much more scenic than this.
Than a...
a garbage can
and two alley cats.
Oh, which reminds me.
Look.
Ta-da.
The new you.
- Dot Ormiston?
- Uh-huh.
Wife of Steven Ormiston.
Should we be using
your last name?
Sure. It's just as common
as Smith or Brown.
- Ormiston?
- Yeah.
Oh, hide.
Hide, hide, hide, hide.
Thank you very much.
Just enough eggs
for me and myself.
Bye.
I'm Dot.
Dot Ormiston.
Such a pleasure.
I know. Isn't he wonderful?
No, please, please.
Call me Dotty.
Hmm-mmm, hmm-mmm,
hmm-mmm, hmm-mmm.
"Assistant claims
Sister Aimee evaporated"?
Evaporated.
Honey, evaporated isn't drowned.
Well, I wanted to give her
a nice farewell.
Honey, honey.
No, no, no, no, no.
"Evaporated" lets people use
their imagination.
Well, we need to
get out of here.
We need to get out of here.
Mass hysteria in California.
Thousands of people have taken
to the roads and beaches...
Sister Aimee will return!
Sister Aimee will return!
We can't cross the border here.
Let her hear your voice.
Let her know that you believe.
Let her be resurrected.
Uh...
Good day. We're in need
of, um, a map.
Mexico or California?
Arizona, New Mexico, Texas.
We wanna tour all the south-west
before we wind up
down in Mexico City.
My wife only brought
the map for California.
Silly little bird.
- That's a nice car.
- Yeah.
Could easily sit
three, or four...
I suppose so. Um...
Do you have a map?
Maps, they cover the main road.
Great.
- But if you got the money.
- Uh-huh?
A guide's better.
Oh, no.
Someone who knows
the back roads.
No cops to pull you over.
I know someone.
You go meet our cowboy.
Senor Rey?
Senor Rey?
Uh, hello.
Hello. Senor Rey?
Rey.
Hola, Senor Rey?
Who sent you?
Who sent you?
Fruit stand map person.
Un-hand her.
Oh, I'm sorry.
- You must forgive me.
- She...
You need a guide. I'm Rey.
Oh, you're...
Oh, you're Rey.
Your Spanish is... is wonderful.
Oh. Thank you.
- Steve, sweetheart.
- Hmm?
She's a little extreme,
don't you think?
No, I don't... No, she's a...
She's a woman
who'd just taking care
of herself.
Hell of a grip.
I decide the route. I drive.
I don't like to talk a lot, but,
I do know all 49 species
of cactus in the south-west,
and I will point them out.
Oh! We need to be
in Mexico City in one week.
- Or so.
- One week.
Give me $50 now and $50
when we get to the border.
That's a little pricey.
But first...
Do you recognize this woman?
She's Dotty.
No, just...
Closer look at her face.
Anything familiar?
Are you famous?
I'm sorry.
I don't go to the pictures.
Okay.
I'll go get my bag.
The Lord keeps speaking.
God speaks to her.
Some people would say
she wasn't well.
Well, some people would say
that God is dead
and man is king,
but that doesn't make it true.
Fits in public.
Spasms, fainting spells.
Tap dancing.
- God in her feet, too?
- That's right.
Sometimes he tickles her toes.
Now, why are you
wasting your time
trying to torture me instead
of looking for my daughter?
Because a young woman
died this morning.
One of your
daughter's followers.
She saw her in the waves.
Bless her soul.
Don't stop there.
We also lost one of our divers
trying to rescue her.
- Bless his...
- Bless his soul.
We've now pulled two bodies
out of that water,
and neither one was a preacher.
You're a smart woman,
Mrs. Kennedy.
You know Aimee didn't evaporate.
Now, I know it's mighty hard
to think about, but,
is there a chance
she did this to herself?
That she swam out there...
Okay? Far out.
Where no one will ever find her.
How's
everybody feeling out there?
Are you feeling the lord?
I am.
Oh, I am.
I hear Him calling my name.
"Sister Aimee. Sister Aimee."
"Sister, heal the wounds."
Amen.
I was... I was back
there in the woods
and I heard a voice.
Who here needs to be healed?
Why don't you come inside?
My hands help to heal this man.
Help me, Lord.
Hear my prayer.
Do everything in Your power
and let me heal this man.
What's your name, son?
Heal him. Heal him.
What's your name?
Sister's gathered
134 this morning.
Oh, Lord.
Take me in your power.
Give me strength to
heal young Junior.
Sister, please heal him.
Mother...
Two hundred.
Who's next?
No.
Aimee wants to be found.
Are you all right there, ma'am?
Oh.
I could use a nice...
swim.
That's all.
Well, ma'am.
You're headed the wrong way.
There's no water
in that direction.
Guess I'll just have to make do with
stretching in the desert air, then.
Yes, ma'am.
Peach?
Giddy-up, peanut.
We're burning daylight.
Say, have you ever
been to Mexico City, Rey?
Mmm-hmm.
Some pretty important people
anticipate my arrival.
That's the bluest sky I've
seen in the longest time.
Their work is very
popular in your country.
It's almost turquoise.
Writers, thinkers,
political, uh...
- Cobalt.
- Azure.
Political visionaries.
Who?
Oh, I couldn't reveal their names.
You don't know anyone.
Honey, will you hand me my...
Yeah.
I received a letter
from El Machete.
That's where we're
headed to Mexico City.
They're interested in a
few essays from my book.
- You got it down?
- I did.
You're an observer?
I'm a journalist,
a political commentator.
- Mmm-hmm.
- Of sorts.
Do you know Jack Reed?
I only met him once.
El Machete?
Mmm-hmm.
- Okay.
- El Machete. Okay.
What about your wife?
My, my muse.
That is my muse.
Yes.
The muse.
Azure.
Mother would have called
for a collector of people.
And by "people" I mean men.
Her first husband
died mysteriously.
He died of malaria.
She probably
just swam out too far.
She forgot what God made her.
And what's that?
A female.
Whore!
Some say that she was drunk.
- Mr. Sunday...
- Brother.
Angelus Temple.
You ever been there?
- Mmm-hmm.
- Mmm-hmm?
It's something, isn't it?
Five thousand seats.
I didn't count.
Three services a day,
seven days a week.
Sister sure is popular.
She's the second most popular
religious figure in America.
The Pope's still got
number one spot.
For now.
And you...
are...
The grass withereth,
the flower fadeth.
But the word of our God
shall stand forever.
- Meaning?
- Meaning...
I started out
as a baseball player.
Showed real promise
in the majors.
I hit a couple of records
for stolen bases.
Everyone loves a stolen base.
I was what you would call
a crowd favorite.
So, 5,300 doesn't
mean that much to me.
Do you know
what position I held?
Afraid it was before my time.
Outfielder?
Defense.
That's how I started my career,
and that's how I'm ending it
now, Mr. Brown.
Detective.
Now, Aimee, she thought
herself on the offense
with her 5,300 seats,
and her flair,
and her cheap movie flack.
Who here to see the Lord?
Who here?
Deliver me, Sister!
Deliver me!
Well, with that...
If you gentlemen
would excuse me,
I've traveled a very long way to be
in Los Angeles to pay my respects.
And maybe pick off
a few of her followers?
You can't tap dance your way into
the souls of sinners, Detective.
You'll just end up
in their nether regions.
Steve...
Are you awake, Stevie?
What are you... Shh.
She may hear us.
I don't care.
No. No. But, but, but,
you would, sweetheart.
Dotty would.
Dotty's turning out to
be a real bore.
I'll be right back.
- Stevie.
- Hmm?
Outside.
- Ta-da!
- Oh, dear God!
I knew she was
trouble, and you wouldn't listen.
I mean, look at all of this.
Stop...
Put that...
That car, right?
An old American made Ford.
It was a wedding gift
for my wife.
Good.
Uh...
Kenny.
Kenny.
Come on.
Let's get out of here. Now.
What? No. Come here, come here.
How does an artist
die an early death?
I know how we're gonna
die an early death.
A writer has to
have a follow up.
Okay? El Machete,
they're gonna close that book,
and the first thing that they're gonna
ask me is what am I working on next.
Well...
Ta-da!
I mean, maybe we came
across her for a reason.
- Fate?
- That's right.
- You don't believe in fate.
- Yeah, but you do.
But I do believe that
a story finds its writer.
- I object.
- Overruled.
I have two brothers.
Both in accounts payable
back in Sacramento.
And I imagine you must come
from a whole litter, huh?
- Prickly pear.
- Pardon?
The cactus outside
is a prickly pear.
Oh.
Anyway, there can be a whole
chapter about disguises.
At least a gun smuggler
posing as a man.
The clock.
This is incredible.
God bless you... sister.
That is a horse crippler.
Mmm. Pretty.
Are you from Mexico originally?
'Cause your English,
it's perfect.
I guess that's why
you're a guide.
Have you been a guide long?
- Too long.
- "Too long."
I guess being a guide
is dangerous.
Do you have kids?
You like meat, Dot?
Ye... Yes.
You see.
I'm coming. I'm following you.
I'm right behind you.
We... We got it.
Huge rabbit.
It's blood.
There's so much blood.
Gentlemen,
if you haven't found a body yet,
might you entertain
the notion that
there is none?
What do you mean by
that, Brother McPherson?
Thank you. "Brother"?
No. No, I'm just a...
Harold is fine.
I find it strange
that you aren't...
rattled by the disappearance
of your ex-wife,
mother of your child.
Fellas,
one summer.
I was visited by
a red-tailed hawk.
Every morning I'd go out and smoke a
cigarette on my porch, and there she was.
This beautiful bird.
Just eyeing me from one of the
birch trees next to the pond.
And it got to be quite a habit.
I would leave out a little,
uh, piece of meat
at night and it would be
gone the next day.
Until one morning,
no bird.
It vanished.
Now, if that happened to you,
you wouldn't be rattled
by it, would you?
You'd just think, by golly...
She flew away.
Are you taking the children?
Of course I am, Harold.
Go, go, go, go.
Come on. Come with Mama.
It's gonna be fine.
Just come with Mama. Okay.
Bye, Berta.
You see, Aimee had a...
Well, she had callings.
And she followed them.
So, you think she just
swam away?
Figuratively speaking, yes.
In most cases,
when a lady swims away,
we look to the husband.
And when she doesn't have one,
we look to the ex.
To the...
Okay.
I should take that
as a compliment.
The truth is, if anyone tried
anything funny with her,
my money's on Aimee.
My wife's waiting outside.
Does she have a calling, too?
No.
So, you're saying your father
taught you how to hunt?
She didn't say that.
Did he also teach
you to field dress the hare
with such eficiencia
and, uh, rapida?
What?
No, no, no, no, no.
That limp little boob.
Doesn't even wait
till my body's cold.
Dot, you okay?
Of course.
I'm dandy.
I'm Dot.
Thing about a character
like Rey is that she's an onion,
and she must be
peeled delicately.
One must look for clues.
You're not gonna smoke that
in here, are you?
You've seen the line of trust
that I've built with her.
Hmm. That's key. The subject
has to believe...
in the scribe.
There's a story in here. I know it.
I just have to find it.
- Let me see it.
- Don't! Dotty.
- That's...
- Oh.
"Made tortillas with abuela".
"Rabbit hunt."
"Rabbit dead."
Oh, but, here it is.
"In my observations of Rey,"
"I've come to understand that
the female criminal mind is..."
What? What is it?
You have me on
the edge of my seat.
You don't understand.
It's a process.
I know how to get
a goddamn story.
Oh.
This is the story.
Oh. What is that?
It's the note that
the priest gave Rey.
- Huh?
- I stole it.
Oh. Um...
Well... Well done.
Well done, my muse.
Can I, uh, can I see it?
No.
- Let me see it.
- No.
- Let me see it!
- No!
Give me that...
Ow!
I'm beginning to doubt
these observaciones.
Do you mind? Mine's empty.
Ooh.
Two sips of that and
I'll be flat on my back.
- Give it a try.
- Oh, I will.
Mmm!
That's some authentic stuff.
Rey, you a bootlegger?
I notice that's an awfully
robust knife for a guide.
Mind if I take a look?
Very intimidating.
Circa 1900?
Issued during the Revolution.
I see.
Military arms.
Five.
What does that symbolize?
Five, um...
Howdy, sir.
Hope you don't mind,
but we saw your fire.
Name's Butch.
That's Peacock, John Jack.
And the Mexican goes
by the name Juan.
Who might you be?
Steve Ormiston.
Well, you wouldn't
mind sharing refreshments
with some lost men,
would you, Mr. Ormiston?
- Yes.
- No.
Have a seat.
A nice car you got
there, Mr. Ormiston.
Thank you.
Thank you. Yeah,
it was a gift for my wife.
I hope you gents
don't mind me saying, but,
I bet you got a story
or two between you?
I'm a bit of
a chronicler of sorts.
You said?
Chronicler, Peacock.
Like a collector.
No.
It's like a writer.
You writing them dirty serials?
No.
Uh, no. More like essays.
Well, we got stories.
Don't we, boys?
Peacock, well...
He's known around these parts
for some unruly behavior.
None of it's been proven in
a court of law, mind you.
John Jack, well...
There ain't a lady
he hasn't tasted
from Mexico up to Montana.
How about Juan?
He cut them Mexicans up like
they were bunnies in the war.
Ha ha.
Slice.
That's why I ain't screwing around
with Juan like Peacock over there.
He ain't one to brag
about his conquests,
but I reckon there ain't
a man, woman, or...
man-woman who ain't
heard of Juan.
Tell 'em who you are, Juan.
Tell 'em what you've done.
I killed five men
with one slice.
Chopped their heads
clean off the shoulders.
One slice.
Come on, now, tell 'em.
It was the bloodiest
night of the Revolution.
One more defeat,
and our cause would be lost.
One starless night,
Pancho Villa was on his way
to the northern battlefields,
to lend his voice and his
sword to the wavering soldiers.
But out of nowhere,
five men attacked Villa.
It was all but decided.
He was a dead man.
But then...
five men...
one slice.
You're the boy with no name.
This is unbelievable.
I need to get my... Get my...
But, uh, wasn't the...
the hero a quick
and slender fella?
No offence, but you're a...
a little big boned,
aren't you, Juan?
- Mr. Ormiston?
- Huh?
Is your lady calling
our Mexican a liar?
What? No!
No.
She's not.
Um...
Friends, would you mind
just letting me pick your
brain for a little while?
Huh? For my new book.
That's all right, Mr. Ormiston.
I reckon we can figure out some form
of reimbursement for our services.
Oh, great, great.
Uh, so it's Peacock.
Peacock.
I mean...
Uh, if you'll excuse me, I think
I'll retire for the evening,
gentlemen.
Have another sip, Mr. Ormiston.
Go on, now. Drink up.
Oh, sure.
I'll take another swig.
I received
a letter from El Machete.
That's why
the three of us are
going there tomorrow.
I like it when they fight back.
Peacock, is it?
No.
I've been on the road before.
Tent revivals.
We need to clean up.
We have to go.
Mmm-mmm. No, I have work to do.
The fellas are
taking me out on a trip...
They left before dawn.
Come on.
They're gone.
Come on.
It's all the same to me,
I got what I want.
- A chapter at least.
- Wonderful.
Maybe even two. Hold on.
You have something. Right...
All right.
Can I get you folks
anything else?
No, thanks.
Dot, these dishes
ain't gonna clean themselves.
Yes, Frank.
Coffee, Sheriff?
Just a drop or two.
Thank you.
Good day.
Good day.
You driving that
sedan out there?
Which one?
What, that maroon one?
- That very one.
- Yeah.
Yeah, I am. That's ours.
That's mine.
Yeah, sure am.
I'm Steven Ormiston.
I'm Steven. Steve.
Just call me Steve.
Looks like you've been
out off the roads there.
Off the roads. Yes, indeed.
- We're on our honeymoon.
- Yeah.
And my husband, bless him,
has agreed to take me
on an adventure tour.
The great yonder.
I see.
I'm a bit of a wild child,
and my husband is more of a
motor court kind of a man,
but he adores me too much.
He even got us
this lovely guide. Um...
Rose.
Rose.
Say, in the yonder, you wouldn't
have come across a group of men,
unseemly crew, vagabonds?
- Oh!
- We've seen absolutely nobody
in ages.
Other than the staggering
variety of cactus
you fine folks have down here.
Did you know that
there are 48 types of cactus
in the state of
New Mexico alone?
I did not, ma'am.
- Forty-eight.
- Forty-nine.
Oh, that's right, 49.
But, um,
should we be on the lookout?
Are these men dangerous, or...
Well, on the account of them
having their throats cut,
I'd say no.
Good Lord.
Bless their souls.
Yep. And keep these ladies safe.
We got a killer out there
slicing people ear to ear.
Yeah.
Well, take care, now.
We sure will keep a lookout
and we do appreciate it.
- We could have given him a name.
- What?
The police. We could've given
a name. We know who killed them.
Juan.
He could've killed all of us,
and now he's out on the loose.
I mean, we could've given
the sheriff a name...
If the sheriff asks,
it's probably better not to say anything.
Don't you think,
Steve?
I think I'll sleep
in the car tonight.
Fine idea, Rey.
Excellent.
Don't believe everything
you read in the papers.
Don't believe everything
a drunk vagabond tells you.
You're the boy with no name.
You must have
one hell of a story.
I'm so sorry, Rey.
What an awful thing for...
No, no, I'm not sorry.
It fit in my hand, so I took it.
And then what?
A week later, I joined
Villa's army in the north.
Never looked back.
And who are you
fighting for now?
I mean, who are
these weapons for, the priest?
He's one of many.
The government started
to issue, um,
a law that restricts religion,
Catholic infantries.
In Mexico?
Oh, in... Mexico.
They're persecuting Christians?
It's a ruse.
They're taking lands.
They want a war.
You're doing God's work.
I'm arming the peasants
who fight for God.
You're a hero.
How you have fallen from Heaven,
oh, star of the morning,
daughter of the dawn.
- Ms. Semple.
- Sister.
Of course.
Note this down.
The Holy Spirit moved
powerfully within my brother.
Aimee was very young
when they got married,
and only 19 when he passed away.
And yet, she was already Aimee.
He would have hated this.
Joy.
Joy is what can heal us.
So, joy is what we must find.
Sister Aimee.
Aimee Elisabeth
Kennedy is nothing more
than a thief.
And I saw where it started.
You shouldn't ask,
"Who stole Aimee?"
You should ask,
"Whom did Aimee steal?"
Cock-a-doodle-do, Dot.
I was getting eaten
alive in that tent.
Surprised you could sleep.
I see.
Oh, I wanna get
to the border today.
Rey, you said today, right?
Yeah, today.
Excellent.
That's...
We have a problem.
Jesus Christ!
Jesus Christ!
I can't risk it.
Maybe I take the car,
- you two take the train.
- No.
No.
He takes the train.
It's my car.
If that works for you.
You missed the turn, Rey.
Oh, sorry. Rey, it was a left.
Rey, it was a left.
Okay, I'm driving.
Rey, you're going the wrong way.
The border is
the other direction.
Where the hell are you going?
Will you give us a moment, Rey?
Hmm!
Ha! So, they figured it out.
Hmm. We're almost
in Mexico, so...
You're going back.
- What?
- You're going back to Los Angeles
to clear this up.
This can't be my legacy.
Ran away with a radio engineer?
But you did.
We're going to Mexico.
I'm going to Mexico.
I am Mexico!
Oh, I see how it is.
First it's Semple,
then it's McPherson,
then it's God, then it's Kenny.
Who's next? That Mexicali rose?
Yeah, how about that?
Let's get something straight, Dotty.
I'm not going back. I am Mexico.
I am El Machete.
I am the reason
that we are all here!
Gag him.
Bind him. Don't be too gentle.
Wha...
May I have it, now?
I know you think
you're going to Mexico.
That El Machete is going to
fawn over your observations,
and that you're going to
be a great, great writer.
But, sweetheart,
there's a problem.
You can't see
past your own nose.
Five.
Five soldiers on
a starless night,
on the northern battlefields.
Or maybe it's four vagabonds
and one sleeping fool.
Oh, Bobby.
Don't be too hard on yourself.
You really did
sweep me off my feet,
if only for a little while.
You're going back
to Los Angeles,
and you're clearing this up.
Think of it as your last
chance to tell a great story.
You got bamboozled
into a fake radio conference.
You lost your money,
your pride.
You're gonna give
this note to Hazel.
And you're gonna
go back to your wife,
and you're never gonna
mention me again.
And if you do,
just think of
the hero with no name,
and all the things
she can do to you.
"My trusted friend,".
"God spoke to me again."
"Sister shall have no body,"
"no resurrection."
"She shall die"
"in the ocean."
"Hazel, recant, will you?"
"Let Sister die a human,"
"so that at least the spirit
of her precious congregation"
"can live on."
"And I, like Isaiah 42:13,"
"shall go forth like a warrior."
I will never return, Hazel.
"I will never return."
Mexico looks
exactly like America.
Some parts.
It's a big country.
So, you, uh,
just remembered this?
Yes.
You're absolutely certain?
A shark got her.
All of her.
Sister Aimee is never
coming back.
Anonymous?
Hmm?
I like the sound.
I guess I've never
been anonymous.
Not in a long time.
What are you talking about?
You're Dot.
I need a new name.
Or no name.
Maybe there can be
two heroes with no name.
I tried to say my name,
but no one listened, so I stopped.
They believe me only in death.
Better if I go alone.
Padre...
Padre.
Hola.
Let's go.
I'm driving.
Shit.
Relax.
There's nothing left
in the car. Relax.
Hola.
Officers, is there
a problem with the road?
Who's Fernandez?
Mrs. Ormiston.
Would you like to
try that again?
I told you.
I'm just an entertainer, that's all.
I tell stories.
This isn't the cross
of Christ, then?
It bears a certain resemblance,
but it's all a costume.
And look at the beadwork
on that robe.
A first class designer in
Hollywood made that for me.
An entertainer.
Rudolph Valentino?
I did mainly stage productions.
Mmm.
You understand
that a punishment
for pushing religion
is whatever I choose?
Oh, that can't be true.
No?
Please, I'm just
an entertainer, I swear.
Prove it.
You say you are an entertainer.
Entertain us.
Tell us a story that
sweeps us off our feet.
For both your sakes.
Usually, there's a...
More happening. Um...
Uh, there's a band,
and a spotlight or two.
Who here wants to be healed?
Who here has killed someone?
Well, I have.
Who?
She said she's a murderer.
Who did you kill?
Sister Aimee Semple McPherson.
That's who.
I drowned her.
I pushed her
down, down, down, down, down
into the deep, dark,
blue ocean.
I... put...
Sorry, I'm a little rusty.
I believe I've seen enough.
Pedro.
No, no, no, wait.
Just one more story.
I... Pedro.
You're gonna love this one.
Your last story, Mrs. Ormiston.
Just tell the story.
The day I lost him
was the day I was born
into this life of healing.
I was a widowed mother.
Lost, forlorn.
Maybe you know the feeling?
Take this.
For the car.
Give 'em hell, Rey.
Given 'em heaven, Aimee.
Help me!
Help!
I've been kidnapped!
Please!
I've been kidnapped. Please!
Help me!
This is KNSP radio.
A miracle!
Sister Aimee has returned.
Los Angeles show
personality Sister Aimee Semple McPherson
is believed found in Mexico.
She was taken from us,
held against her will,
but found strength to escape
and come back to us.
LAPD says it is fully
prepared to open another investigation
into the disappearance of preacher and
show woman Sister Aimee Semple McPherson,
this time to probe the
missing woman's own words.
Thousands line
the streets of Los Angeles
to welcome Sister Aimee Semple
McPherson, feared dead...
A tale that is truly...
I've had a long
and arduous journey.
But the good Lord
guided me back to you.
So, what do you say?
Who here needs to be healed?
I love you, Sister!
We are live
at the Angelus Temple,
about to witness the main event
of another roaring service.
Los Angeles' own angel,
Sister Aimee Semple McPherson
is right at this very moment
preparing to perform a miracle.