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A black slave is praying to God, when Mr. Nancy appears in the bottom of the boat to let them know they're black. And that's the nice name they're called. They'll be sold and split up and the lucky ones will get Sundays off to sleep and fuck.

Hundreds of years down the road, they'll be right where they are when the story started, fucked.

Mr. Nancy says to go upstairs and slit the throats of all the Dutch motherfuckers and set the ship on fire. One of the men says but then they'll all burn to death.

One man is freed and sets the rest free. As he's doing that, the hull begins to burn. The poisonous spider who was on the stairs makes it out alive on a burning board that lands on the shore.

Shadow wants no cops, but he's badly injured. Pounding on Wednesday's door, he wonders what the man did.

Wednesday thinks he's talking about a girl. Wednesday doesn't think much of the bloodsoaked Shadow in front of him.

Wednesday assures Shadow an assault on him is an attack on him. Just because he didn't show anger doesn't mean he's lacking a plan.

Shadow takes a bath, goes to bed and dreams of Laura. She says she's not dead. It's just a bad dream. He cries.

In the morning, he goes home to see the surprise party decorations hanging, imagining Laura everywhere.

On her phone, Shadow finds the verification he didn't need that Laura and Robbie were entangled. A dick pic.

He empties the house, sends the possessions on their way and Wednesday shares what he heard about Laura.

They're off. No highways. They'll be meeting with a bunch of preeminent people important in their respective fields. First stop? Chicago. For Miami.

Wednesday blows the dandelion he picked in Shadow's yard out the window.

Wednesday sends Shadow shopping. On one of the TVs, Lucy Ricardo begins talking to Shadow. She wants to offer Shadow a job. They're the coming thing. They're the coming thing. "He" ain't even yesterday anymore. She's very impressed with Shadow's done for Wednesday so far, and she can offer him a lot more on behalf of her people.

Shadow refuses, and when he gets back to Wednesday, he shares that he thinks he's losing his mind. Wednesday suggests Shadow enjoy being singled out and ask himself "would I rather be ignored?" Shadow says yes.

They threatened to reprogram reality. Are they just fuckin' with is head? Or is Wednesday just fuckin' with his head?

Bilquis is still gobbling up men. It brings her to tears. She must be very lonely. She goes into a room with a statue, a small smile on her face, and looks into a bin with gold in the outline of a body. The body briefly appears and disappears before her eyes. She is no longer smiling.

Czernobog is in the field killing a cow. Phyllis is in the kitchen annoyed that they arrived late to dinner. She isn't impressed that Shadow doesn't know their world. Wednesday says he's easing him in.

Without servants, the oldest sister assures her guests the food will be terrible. She also reads Shadow's fortune and sees a lot of bad news, so bad she can't even tell him.

In the other room, Czernobog wants Wednesday to get the hell out and take Shadow with him. They'll all die, win or lose.

Czernobog explains to Shadow who he is over dinner through black and white metaphors and then suggests a game of checkers after dinner. He'll be black.

He's enamored with his hammer, used to kill a lot of cattle. Or maybe a lot more than cattle. He threatens Shadow over a game of checkers.

It's the middle of the game before Shadow learns the stakes. Shadow wins and Czernobog goes on their little trip with him. If Shadow loses, Czernobog will take the hammer and crush his brains with the mighty bleeding hammer.


American Gods
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American Gods Season 1 Episode 2 Quotes

Wednesday: They don't have a clue. They don't have a fucking clue!
Shadow: I don't have a fucking clue! I don't give a fuck if they don't have a fucking clue. I want one! Give me a fucking clue!
Wednesday: Clues were not in the agreement.

Once upon a time, a man got fucked. Now, how's that for a story? Because that's the story of black men in America. Oh, you all don't know you're black yet. Well, let me be the first to tell you that you are all black. The moment these Dutch motherfuckers set foot here and decided that they white and you get to be black, and that's the nice name that they call you? Let me paint a picture of what's waiting for you on the shore. You arrive in America, land of opportunity, milk and honey and guess what? You all get to be slaves. Split up, sold off and worked to death! The lucky ones get Sunday off to sleep, fuck, make more slaves and all for what? Cotton, indigo, for a fuckin' purple shirt. The only good news is the tobacco your grandchildren are going to farm for free is going to give a shitload of these motherfuckers cancer. And I ain't even started yet. A hundred years later, you're fucked. A hundred years after that? Fucked. A hundred years after you get free, you still gettin' fucked outta jobs and shot at by police, you see what I'm sayin'? This guy gets it. He's gettin' angry. Angry gets shit done.

Mr. Nancy