Are you the Pastman?
Yes.
My name is --
--of the Time Crime Division
for the United States Department of Homeland Security.
I regret to inform you that
that a time criminal has killed your mother.
Please come in.
Would you like to sit down?
Yes. Thank you.
I will need to take your picture.
It's protocol.
Is that okay?
Yes, of course.
Where?
Just here is fine.
You got a nice living room.
It will look good.
Where..
when did she die?
May 2nd, 1954.
How did she die?
Our agents tracked down the time criminal
and during the chase, he struck a crossing pedestrian.
It was your mother.
We got him, though.
One of our agents killed him.
Good.
That's good.
How long do I have?
It varies.
The timestream will catch up to us within the hour.
My brother was born in 1953.
What does that mean for him?
He will grow up never knowing his mother.
And I won't be here?
I'm truly sorry.
That's okay.
Are you from around here?
No.
I live in a different--
I mean are you from here?
You know, Texas?
Oh.
No, I am not.
How are you deaf?
What do you mean?
Were you born deaf?
No.
I am not deaf.
We use a consoling technique in our division.
We pull up your data to learn about you
and use that to shape our officers
to fit our clients needs.
What you are seeing is a disguising technology we use.
I don't look like this.
You look a little like my first love.
I know.
You smell like him.
I remember...
I remember dancing with him on the train tracks...
We were deeply in love.
It felt as if the universe opened up
and allowed us to connect.
Everything was okay.
The future was clear and full of excitement.
It snowed that night!
It never snows around here
but it did that night.
Of course,
it was not until the next morning
that we learned why it snowed.
A tear in time and space.
That was when you people showed up.
I was terrified of time criminals.
I hated seeing their mugshots on the television.
You assured us.
You assured me that the chances were minimal.
What was it that you people said?
That there were better odds being hit by a meteor?
Yet, you're here.
In my house!
My daughter.
I need to call the school.
In minutes they won't know you.
What about my daughter?
My mother and I don't get along.
I always thought I'd be attending her funeral without repairing our relationship.
But, of course, she had to give me one last taunt.
She gets an afterlife...
Where's mine?
I will just cease to exist...
Will it hurt?
They tell me it doesn't,
though, of course, no first-hand accounts are--
Give it to me straight.
Will it hurt?
No.
What should I do now?
My service here is to console you.
You may do what pleases you with your remaining time.
I don't understand.
Why bother telling me?
I'll just disappear.
I wouldn't know the difference.
Why are you here?
We, at the Time Crime Division,
believes that every one is born with dignity.
No matter if they die or simply cease to exist.
We owe you whatever respect we can afford--
Fuck you!
I'm sorry.
Will you remember me?
No.
Where are my manners?!
Here you are and I didn't even offer you a drink.
That's alright.
I am not thirsty.
Don't be silly.
Would you like some iced tea?
Water will be fine.
Please.
My friends tell me I make the best.
It would make me happy to have my iced tea drank one last time.
You would not deny a dying woman request, will you?
No.
I would like some iced tea.
I said dying, didn't I?
I am not a dying woman, am I?
I am nothing.
Not even a worthless speck in the universe.
I'll be right back with your iced tea.