If Phillip finds out about that
he's going to have to take it apart.

- No. I'm just putting a little tweak on it.
- Yeah, I know. No, you're right.

Abe, it's my garage, okay?
It's not like they're paying rent.

There was value in the thing.
Clearly. Of that they were certain of.

But what is the application?
In a matter of hours...

they had pinned it to everything
from mass transit to satellite launching.

Imagining devices the size of jumbo jets.
Everything would be cheaper.
It was practical and they knew it.

But above all that, beyond the positives...
they knew that the easiest way
to be exploited...

is to sell something
they did not yet understand.

So they kept quiet.
The parties would continue.

Any birthday, anniversary, holiday...
maybe some obscure project launch.
It didn't matter. Any reason would do.

What was important is that Thomas Granger,
their last best hope of funding, show up.

If he left a little earlier than
they would've liked, he couldn't be blamed.

He was only there
to please his daughter Rachel.

And she was only there to please Abe.
What did you say
to Mr. Granger a while ago?

- Did you flip my burger?
- You can't call him Mr. Granger.

You have to call him, like,
Thomas or something.

- Go ahead.
- No, because he won't take you seriously.

- He thinks we're kids.
- Lf you call him Mr. Granger...

he looks at you like you're a 6-year-old kid.
He does it with me. It won't work anymore.

Abe had taken on the task
of quantifying and explaining the device.

But as weeks became months...
their enthusiasm became a slow realization
that they were out of their depth.