All language subtitles for Brooklyn.Nine.Nine.S03E04

All right, ladies,
I don't got a whole lot

of time here, so what do you say

we make like Boyle's mom
and you debrief me?

Didn't happen,
and I should know.

She tells me everything.

Yeah, not everything, Chucky.

She took off my undies.

Hey, Peralta.

What is that?

- This?
- Yeah.

Oh, nothing.

Just open-and-shut case.

Well, it looks like
a pretty fat file for a dunker.

What is it?

Just some old lady
has a missing torso

that we can't find.

Put it in the major crimes pile.

But we've already given them
all of our felonies.

It's because I got a bet going
with the captain of the A4

to see whose squad
can solve the most cases.

Winner gets to choose
a tattoo for the loser,

and guess what I'm getting him.

Calvin peeing on
the Tasmanian Devil?

No, it's supposed
to be a bad tattoo.

Man, you're really stupid
in the morning, aren't you?

Captain, we all want you
to win that bet,

but do you think maybe
we could keep a few real cases?

Look, I'm gonna keep it
real simple for you.

We only solve
misdemeanors, wieners.

Say it.

We only solve
misdemeanors...

Wieners.

Congratulations.

You just called yourselves
wieners.

Dismissed.

Sync & corrections by dzimu_kairu

♪ ♪

Good morning.

For whom?

For you-m.

Okay, I can't keep lying.

Wuntch is here.

Oh, there it is.

The shriveled husk
of Raymond Holt.

Look, Gina,
is that a talking raisin?

Enough foreplay.

I'm here to discuss

the department's new
smuggling task force.

The task force?

Oh, I thought you'd be

handing me another
vapid PR assignment.

I am.

We need to choose a phrase

to replace the phrase
"task force."

Our research suggests
it's too aggressive.

What?

I like it.

Task force sounds like

some sort of body spray
for hot dudes.

Oh, and, um, one more thing.

Since your little stunt
with the subway poster,

I think you could use
some supervision.

Bob will be keeping
an eye on you.

It's gonna be fun, Ray.

But I'm his boss.

Oh, ouch.

How demeaning.

Oh, my God.

Oh, my God, oh, my God,
oh, my God, oh, my God.

Sarge, you got to
check this out.

Jake, what are you doing?

We can't work real cases.

This is a B and E.

Oh, it's so much more than that.

Look at these photos.

Perp came in through
the back window,

set up the living room
to look like a kid's tea party,

didn't steal anything.

Do you know what this means?

The victim still
has their stuff?

The perp wasn't there
to take anything...

except lives.

Sorry, I always wanted
to say that.

I think this is the work
of the Oolong Slayer.

Seems like a stretch.

If this is the Oolong Slayer,
why isn't there a body?

I don't know,
maybe he got spooked

before the Vic got home,
or it could be...

Jake, you want a case so bad,
you're making one up.

Look, the slayer hasn't
struck in five years.

Chief Garmin set up
a task force to find the guy

and turned up nothing,

and most importantly,
the Vulture's orders were

only misdemeanors, wieners.

Why do you follow
people's directions

when you could
literally pick them up

and throw them out the window?

Hmm?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Was that the sound
of a juicy file I heard

plopping down on Peralta's desk?

Yeah, it was.

You just lost your overtime
privileges for the month.

Everybody, listen up.

Anyone caught working on a case
that I didn't assign

loses their overtime.

Capooch?

Capooch.

Capooch.

Uncapooch.

You didn't say "no take backs."

♪ ♪

Ah, there you are.

I got something real special
for the two of you.

Great, what do you got?

A month from today
is my birthday.

I need you to throw me
a party, all right?

Make it epic, surprise me.

Are you asking us
to plan you a birthday party?

Yeah, Helen Keller.

Pay attention.

Did you choose us
because we're women?

Women love planning parties.

It's in the Bible.

Unbelievable.

What a waste of time.

Disagree.

This is an amazing use of time.

We have complete control over
that dummy's birthday party.

We can ruin it.

Yeah, fun.

I'll just mess up
a captain's orders on purpose.

It'll be so...
I can't even fake it.

Yeah, baby, I can
pick up the crib,

right after I get the groceries

and before I start
painting the nursery.

Yeah, I can draw a cloud.

I don't need a stencil.

Okay, I'll get the stencil.

Look, I don't know
when I'll be home.

I'll text you, okay?

Ugh, all this paperwork
is gonna straight-up kill me.

How are you so chipper?

Oh, simple.

I eat a cacao nib
every time I close a case.

A what?

A cacao nib.

They're these happy little
chocolaty delights

from deep in
the Peruvian rain forest.

Here, try one.

Do I look like a man who snacks?

You look like eight circles
with suspenders on.

But these aren't bad for you.

They're full of fiber
and antioxidants.

Go ahead, try one.

Okay, fine.

Just one.

Mm-hmm.

Damn, these are good.

And plus, they're organic
and fair trade.

Terry loves responsible
agricultural practices.

Mmm.

Uh-oh.

Jake, you should not
be here IRL.

Gina, my old friend
who I grew up with.

So good to see you,
and I have missed you so much.

Is Holt in?

Yes, of course he is,
but he's in a meeting,

and you can not
be seen stopping by

for chits and/or chats.

You need to leave.

Gina, I'm not here
to waste his time, all right?

I have an extremely dope,
possibly even disgusting case,

and I need to
discuss it with him.

A case?

Extra no.

If Wuntch finds out
he's working on a case,

she will punish him.

She's on the warpath
right now, Jake.

The warpath.

Okay, copy that.

Loud and clear.

Don't want to cause a problem.

I will skraight-up skedaddle
with no further a-do-do.

♪ ♪

What's going on?

Well, Gina said we couldn't
be seen together,

and I need your help.

Looks like we've both got
a pretty bad case of jerk boss.

Yes, yours is an idiot,

and mine is a fork-tongued
lizard witch.

The Oolong Slayer.

He's back.

I knew you would
confirm my hunch.

He's back to his
cool-ass psycho ways.

Great news, right?

Aside from a serial killer
being on the loose.

What's your plan?

I'm gonna work
the case in secret.

Wrong.

We're gonna work
the case in secret.

Holy crap.

No one can know about this,
understood?

Understood.

Understood.

What?

I hang out in the men's room
all the time.

♪ The acoustics are amazing. ♪

If I recall correctly,

the Oolong Slayer
last struck five years ago.

He left behind no DNA
or fingerprints,

but he did leave
his calling card,

a tea bag in his victim's mouth.

Yeah, how cool...
I mean awful... is that?

Very cool...
I mean awful.

What's our strategy?

One, reexamine all
the task force's files,

two, check all B and Es
against the slayer's MO,

and three, think of
something supercool to say

when we arrest him.

My leading contender?

"You're going to jail
for oolong time."

- Jake, that's really good.
- Right?

Let's not overlook the fact
that he turned his crime scenes

into tea parties for dollies.

Which suggests
preadolescent trauma

leading to a pattern
of criminality

that probably began
as a juvenile.

I'm taking
an abnormal psych class,

and everyone in it
is obsessed with me.

You look into the B and Es

and I'll check out
the juvie angle.

Now, before we begin in earnest,
I'd like to propose a toast.

That's what globes are for.

A 25-year-old port
seems appropriate.

I would have gone 10.

I don't know what port is.

To catching a serial killer.

To catching a serial killer.

To Rihanna,

because I love Rihanna.

Okay.

Case closed.

What time is it?

That's right, it's nib o'clock.

Whoo, new case, new nib.

Read 20 words, that's a nib.

Hmm, that nib was kind of small.

Hey, sarge?

You may want to slow down
on those things.

Things?

These are the precious jewels
of the rain forest, Boyle.

I don't mean to overstep here,
but you're looking a little...

fat.

Oh, boy.

How dare you?

You can't comment on my body.

This is a workplace.

Now I'm feeling objectified
by your male gaze.

Absolutely not.

Sir, just listen.

No, I don't want
to listen, Boyle.

You are trying to shame me,
and that will not fly.

Okay.

Now I need some more nibs
just to calm down.

- Jake, dope alley.
- I know.

I think this is where
Batman's parents got killed.

I'll take your word for it.

The juvie angle didn't pan out.

Neither did the B and Es,

but I traced the label
on the slayer's oolong.

Turns out he got it
at Chang's Medicinal Tea Shop.

Good work, Peralta.

Breakthrough selfie?

Why not?

Breakthrough.

So what's the plan, boss?

We create a diversion
while Gina copies

his customer files.

My thumb drive
looks like a watermelon,

because I adore the summertime.

Oh, I love that.

Let's do this.

Oh, hey, pal, that's my ginkgo.

It's my ginkgo now, old man.

I'm still young enough
to beat that ginkgo

out of your hands.

Hey, knock it off back there.

This is so much fun.

Hit me in the face.

Oh, that was
a terrible suggestion.

Oh.

All right.

Western medicine rules!

All right, sluggers.

Let's see what you got
for the big b-day bash.

I thought you wanted us
to surprise you.

It's a figure of speech,
Detective Stupid-ago.

Well, I was thinking a DJ,

two signature cocktails,
passed hors d'oeuvres

Whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa, whoa.

Passed hors d'oeuvres?

What is this,
a fundraiser for French dorks?

So no passed hors d'oeuvres?

I can't even answer that.

All right, tough guy.

What do you got planned?

I don't know.

Meet at a bar and...

drink there.

That's it?

Well, it's still better
than Santiago's.

Look, this is real
important to me, all right?

My brother's hot wife
is gonna be there,

and I haven't seen her
since his funeral.

- Wow.
- Yeah, right?

I mean, you only get one shot
at your brother's widow.

Just go.

Oh.

- Partner.
- Partner.

Not many people buy that tea,

and only one has been doing so
since the killings first began,

and he has a record.

His name?

Braxton O'Reilly.

He's a maniac.

Arrested in '84
for torturing an animal?

Oh, this is our guy.

Oh, man, just a squirrel?

Still counts.

Let's get that psycho.

NYPD, nobody move.

Where is Braxton O'Reilly?

Where is that psycho monster?

He's dead.

Our condolences.

You were working a case.

I freaking knew it.

- You're a liar.
- And you.

You can't do anything
except disobey orders

and screw up.

I'm disappointed too.

No one cares, Bob.

And after all
your so-called detective work,

you didn't even
get the right guy.

Raymond, Raymond, Raymond...

- It was an error, but...
- Do not interrupt me.

Raymond, Raymond,
Raymond, Raymond.

Seven times, once for every day

your juicy, insubordinate ass
is suspended.

Same goes for you, Peralta.

Except for the juicy ass part,
because your ass is stupid.

Now get the hell
out of my office.

Wait a minute, sir.

You know what.

Screw this.

It's ten days now.

Shouldn't have gone back in.

I am straight-up depressed.

Amy's been doing her best
to cheer me up.

She gave me this sticker
this morning

just for waking up.

Ew, it's like you're
dating your teacher.

I know. It's so hot.

Meanwhile, Holt
won't even talk to me.

How is he, by the way?

Honestly, terrible.

I've only heard from him
once this week,

and that was to tell me
he'd finally come up with

a new, non-threatening
term for task forces.

Ya'll ready for this?

Do groups.

Wow, that sucks tremendously.

Can I have another port?

You're still
drinking that stuff?

Yeah, Holt got me hooked on it.

I even got a bottle
for my house.

It's really classing up
the booze

and take-out menus shelf.

Wait a minute.

I think I just
figured something out.

I got to go.

Aren't you forgetting something?

Uh...

No, pay your bill.

Damn, who raised you?

Oh, my God.

You friended the Vulture?

Well, he's not
telling us anything,

so it was the only way
to figure out what he likes.

Maybe this will help.

He just said his
favorite color is underboob.

Look, Amy,
you're a good detective.

You don't have to perfectly plan
some butthead's birthday party.

I'm sorry,

but I believe
that hard work pays off.

- Shut up.
- Excuse me?

No, no, no, shut up and look.

You're completely right.

Your hard work just paid off.

The Vulture is in a band?

Fantastic Jack
and the Junkyard Rats.

Just when I thought he couldn't
be any more the worst,

he out-the worsts himself.

I have an idea.

I don't know why you insisted
on eating here, Gina.

It seems like
your average greasy spoon.

Pardon me.

Did one of you order
the hot plate of justice?

Peralta, what are you
doing here?

Saving New York City
from a maniacal...

Um, excuse me?

Are those my eggs?

You kind of interrupted
an incredible moment,

but here, take that.

No, no, we can't
be seen together.

Gina, did you know about this?

Uh, tricking you was
the only way

I could get you to talk to him.

Plus, you know I heart intrigue.

Sir, take a look
at these photos.

None of the victims had any
alcohol in their apartments.

Not even a dusty bottle.

You want to know why?

Because they were all sober.

They all attended
12-step programs.

None of them the same one,

but they all have
the same leader,

a creep with a record
of torturing animals.

I'm talking dogs.

I found the Oolong Slayer,

and his name is...

I never do this,
but I kind of ordered rye.

Ma'am, I'm not a waiter, okay?

I'm trying to blow
my friend's mind over here.

Could someone get
this lunatic some rye?

His name is James Dylan Borden,

and he works the night shift
at creep-a-palooza...

the mannequin factory
in Red Hook.

I'll pick you up at 8:00.

Are you insane?

We were just suspended
for screwing up this case.

I shouldn't even be talking
to you.

Wuntch can probably
hear us right now.

She has super sonar hearing,

because she's a bat.

Sir, we're tracking
a serial killer.

There's nothing better.

We're living the dream.

That's your dream.

Mine was to run the Nine-Nine,

and that will
never happen again.

Just give the case
to Major Crimes.

Wow.

Never thought I'd live
to see Holt side

with the Vulture and Wuntch.

Mark the day, Gina.

May 18th at 4:00 p.m.

Oh, honey.

We're well into October.

Really?

Hey, Charles.

I thought you should know.

I heard what you said,
and it really sank in.

I'm off the nibs.

- Really?
- Of course.

I'm Terry Jeffords,

and when I put
my mind to something,

I do it.

My resting heart rate is six.

Six, Boyle.

You know, the rest of you

could learn a little
something from me.

Sure, sometimes we fall down,

but it's how we back up
that matters.

We need to look our failings
in the eye and say,

"Not today, not today, nibs."

Oh, Sergeant.

Fine!

I'm not better.

These nibs are just
too damn delicious.

I don't think the nibs
being too yummy is the problem.

I think right now, there's
too much on your plate...

metaphor intended.

You're stress eating.

That's even worse!

The stress isn't going anywhere.

I'm about to have my third kid,

and they just get
more stressful over time, man.

Oh, nibs, what am I gonna do?

Help me.

♪ ♪

Huh.

Why would a psycho
want to work here?

♪ ♪

Got you.

♪ ♪

Looking for me?

Nope, just taking my gun

for a walk through
the nightmares factory.

Nice try, cop.

But you and I are gonna
have a little tea party.

Am I invited?

Drop the weapon.

Okay, slayer.

Prepare to go to jail
for oolong time.

Now say "punk."

Punk.

Punk!

I said it.

Thank you, Peralta.

What are you thanking me for?

You're the one who showed up
and stopped him

from shooting me
in my beautiful face.

No, for giving me
one last chance to be a real cop

before going back
to a lifetime of PR drivel.

Sir, we just caught
a serial killer.

I've wanted this
since I was four years old.

That's troubling.

We did something special here.

I'm honored our names will
appear next to each other

on the arrest report.

No, no.

I think you should
take sole credit.

Wuntch will only
use it to sink me.

I'm glad your dream
came true, Peralta.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
the drivel calls.

Hey, turd monkeys.

It's time to celebrate me.

Let's rock!

Whoo!

♪ ♪

His tearaway pants
just got stuck.

Hiring him to play his own party
is straight-up brilliant.

Yep, because everything he does

is a prank on himself.

Wow, you're an evil genius.

Next time I want
to hurt someone,

I'm coming straight to you.

Aw, that's the nicest thing
you've ever said to me.

All right, this next song
is called "Moms in the Shower."

♪ ♪

Sarge, I know you have
every right to be stressed out.

A new kid on the way,
Sharon's on bed rest,

global warming...

This preamble is
making me nibby.

Get to the point.

I got the squad to volunteer

a little bit of their off time
to help you and your family out.

I'll make dinner once a week,

everyone else volunteered
babysitting time,

and Hitchcock offered massage
sessions for your wife...

- What?
- So I pepper sprayed him.

You're a good man, Charles.

How can I ever thank you?

Start taking care
of yourself again.

I miss those gross,
overly large muscles.

Lay off my body, dude.

I clearly got some stuff
to work through.

Chief Garmin,
thanks for meeting with me.

So I have a guy in custody
on an attempted B and E.

You scheduled a meeting
with the Chief of Detectives

to tell me that?

I did.

Oh, I should probably
also mention,

he's the Oolong Slayer,

and this is every bit
of evidence you'll need

to put him away for good.

Really?

Yeah.

- Wow.
- Right?

I spent a decade looking
for this monster,

and you found him
all on your own.

Yeah, pretty easily, actually.

I imagine that'll look
pretty bad for you.

Excuse me?

Unless, of course, I decided

to withhold that information,

keep it just for myself
as a secret.

Tell everyone it was you
who figured it out.

Why would you do that?

What do you want?

Your own do group?

No, I actually had
something else in mind.

♪ ♪

Captain Holt?

This can't be real.

Someone please see him before
I punch myself in the face.

Hello, squad.

Oh, my God.
Captain?

Good news.

The Vulture is out,
and I'm back.

- Yes.
- That's good.

Glad you're back, captain.

We really missed you.

How'd you get them
to reinstate you?

I didn't.

I guess someone
just had my back.

Wait, where's Gina?

She wanted to make
a proper entrance.

Or was I never really gone?

Sync & corrections by dzimu_kairu