All language subtitles for Brooklyn.Nine.Nine.S03E21

Ka-blamo, scrubs.

I nailed it.

I solved Captain Holt's brain teaser

and found the location
of our secret meeting.

The answer? The broom closet.

In your face.

- In whose face now?
- Yours.

Gina and I have been here 20 minutes.

Though my presence is
not puzzle-related.

I just followed Terry
into a dark closet.

Hey.

You solved the puzzle before me.

Nerds.

They solved it first.

They're the nerds. I'm cool like you.

Wait. Where's Captain Holt? Where's Amy?

Yeah, she should be the first one here.

Doesn't she go to, like, an
adult puzzle camp every summer?

Yes, but please don't bring that up.

I've been throwing out her mailers.

Guys, if those two aren't here,

I'm thinking we must
be in the wrong place.

No, trust me, we're
definitely in the right place.

I'm 100% sure about this.

Well, guess who solved the puzzle?

- Who?
- We did.

Oh, we did?

Yeah, we're in the wrong place.

Sync & corrections by dzimu_kairu

Thank you for all finally showing up.

Let's recap. As you know,

Jimmy "The Butcher" Figgis put
out a hit on Adrian Pimento,

which the mob believes succeeded.

For his safety Pimento
has gone off the grid.

Remember, the only people we can trust

with this information are in this room.

And Genevieve. We can trust Genevieve.

We share a life. I tell her everything.

Fine, the people in this
room, and Genevieve.

Genevieve's mom also
knows, but she's in a coma,

dead any second, we're good.

Okay.

Unfortunately, we can't
just arrest Figgis,

because he has a man inside the FBI.

The good news is,

we have a lead that's gonna
break this case wide open:

Maura Figgis, Jimmy's sister.

She's currently serving

in a maximum security prison in Texas.

A white woman in prison, in Texas?

She must be bad.

She murdered three people,

and she knows Figgis's operation,

so we're sending a detective
in undercover as an inmate

to get close to her.

Yeah, and guys,

this isn't one of those women's prisons

that we've all seen being all sexy

on late-night cable.

You know, with the ladies
touching each other's bits,

and there's kind of
some lame jazz playing.

When these chicks fight, it's for real.

So be mature.

Peralta is gross, but correct.

Mm.

This facility is a violent place

filled with hardened criminals

We need to send someone
who can blend in.

Sir, I would be honored

to take on this challenging assignment.

Why is everyone laughing?

I can be a badass.

You're raising your hand right now.

We're in a meeting.

I just assumed Diaz
would be the prisoner.

Nothing personal, it's just, you know...

she's terrifying.

- Thank you, Sir.
- Mm-hmm.

Dismissed.

Hey, that was crazy, right?
I mean, I can be scary.

Oh, yeah. I watch "Jeopardy" with you

and you're a straight-up psycho.

Aww. Thanks, babe.

I'll take "Awesome
Girlfriends" for 500, Alex.

I know you're being sweet, but
don't disparage "Jeopardy."

Okay.

All right, listen up.

You're not gonna try to convince us

Mahler was the original
punk rocker again, are you?

No, the music is a classic
counter-espionage maneuver.

I don't want to be overheard.

But, since you mention it,

Mahler was one in-your-face bad boy.

Right, um, so, what's going on, sir?

Oh, I have a plan

to draw out Figgis's man in the FBI:

Throw a funeral for Pimento.

Now, before we, quote, unquote,

bury Pimento,

we need to, quote, unquote,
open an investigation,

find a, quote, unquote, corpse,

and obtain a, quote,
unquote, death certificate.

Kind of feel like you
could have just used

"air quotes."

I can also wear short
pants and drink for a jug

that says "XXX."

Fake funeral's a good idea, sir,

but where are we gonna find a corpse?

We don't need one.

We just need pictures for the case file.

If I may,

imagine Pimento's dirty, pale body

being pulled out of a manhole

after a couple days' sewer bloat.

- Mm.
- Now squint your eyes...

and look at Hitchcock.

Oh, yes.

I believe we've found our corpse.

You positively glow.

How do you feel? Great.

I could smother somebody in
their sleep with this thing.

Pregnancy's dope.

Whoa, bup, bup, bup.

That big old womb is not a weapon, okay?

It's just an excuse to
talk to your doctors,

AKA, Charles and me, in private.

If you need to chat, just
schedule an appointment

with Brent Kennedy, OB-GYN.

And I'm Glen Kennedy, OB-GYN.

We're twins, like "Property Brothers,"

but for gynecology.

No, I said no to that idea.

You are Isaac Schwartz,
my older Jewish mentor,

and you are Isabel Cortez.

You're in for stabbing
a man on the subway

46 times in the trachea.

Tight.

The pregnancy stuff is
my area of expertise.

Since Genevieve started
fertility treatments,

it's all we talk about.

Now... show me your waddle.

- Mm-hmm.
- Mm-hmm, okay.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.
- Okay, okay, okay.

Nice.

Good work.

You really look like a corpse.

And I'm not even wearing makeup.

Time of death: 8:26 p.m.

Now all I have to do
is sign as the coroner.

You are disturbingly good at this.

I grew up forging report cards.

If people knew how smart I was,

it would have been
harder to control them.

Now all we need is the death certificate

officially notarized.

You want me to break
the sacred oath I took

to become a notary?

It's not a problem.
'Cause... I'm a badass.

Just like Rosa.

So...

I am going to stamp this, and...

violate my oath...

You can keep talking,
but we're done here.

Adrian Pimento is officially deceased.

Excellent.

All this sneaking
around is exhilarating.

I can feel the adrenaline
coursing through my body.

Coursing.

_

- Isabel Cortez,

welcome to your new home.

- This is gonna be fun.
- Really?

What are your weekends like, Diaz?

All right. It's time, Detective.

Don't forget, you're
seven months pregnant.

Your cervix is ripening as we speak.

Mention my cervix again and
I will rip your throat out.

I don't understand. You don't like it

when he talks about
your cervix ripening?

Okay, have fun.

They grow up so fast.

Okay, fresh meat.

You're being transferred here

because you made trouble
in your last prison.

That won't fly here. Stay in your lane.

Hey. You're that cop

who arrested me three
years ago in Brooklyn.

Uh...

Amy Santiago,

you're going to prison.

I don't know. Is anyone gonna buy it?

I mean, do I look pregnant?

I mean...

I guess I can see it.

I think it's amazing.

Oh, Jake and Amy and baby makes three.

I don't know if I believe in God,

but I have prayed for this.

That is psychotic.

All right, Ames, let's go
over your cover story again.

Okay.

My name is Isabel Cortez,
I'm in for murder,

'cause some perv on the
subway tried to touch me

and I was like,

"Did someone order a tracheotomy?"

Okay, I think that's a
little too technical.

We need to work on your tough talk.

So, what are you in for, Cortez?

None of your damn business.

Nice. Keep going with that.

I'm gonna split you like
a sundae with Grandpa...

bitch.

Okay. Okay.

The "bitch" part was great. Yeah.

Although, mean threats
generally don't involve

having desserts with your grandparents.

So, just try again.

Keep telling me what to do
and I'll stab your face off.

- Hell yes!
- Damn!

Like that.

Okay, now, here's the plan.

Instead of you approaching Maura,

we're gonna get her to come to you.

Yeah, try and spread the word

that you've got a connect on the outside

that gives you access to contrabands:

cigarettes, burner phones...

Pornography.

Amy, women don't watch...

- They do.
- Mm.

- Oh, yeah.
- Oh, wow.

- Mm-hmm.
- Huh.

Well, that's an exciting
revelation for me.

- Mm-hmm.
- Huh.

Sorry prison didn't work out.

Eh, I'll find another use for that shiv.

Also, I'm sorry about Pimento.

I mean, I know how hard it is

to have a fianc� disappear

because the mob and
the FBI want 'em dead.

I mean...

Actually, I can't relate at all.

It's the saddest story I ever heard.

Look, you wanna talk,
I'm a good listener.

There's nothing to be sad about.

Pimento's gonna come back,
we're gonna get married

and we're gonna have
sex on Figgis's grave

just like we planned.

- Cool honeymoon.
- Mm-hmm.

Well, since you're not in
prison, you can help us.

We're gonna throw a fake funeral

- to draw out our FBI guy.
- Good plan.

I always thought it would be funny

to kill somebody at a funeral.

Also, you're gonna have to
play the grieving fianc�.

- What?
- So you may not be sad,

but you're gonna need to look it.

Fine.

Boo hoo.

Maybe we'll get you a real
thick veil or something.

_

Cellmates!

All right, our camera is up.

We have picture and sound.

Amy should be meeting her
new cellmate any second now.

- Sup.
- Sup.

Good, she's abbreviating,
just like we practiced,

even though she hates it.

- She's gonna do just fine.
- Oh, yeah.

I drilled her for hours. Ew.

I'm sorry, I just realized
what that sounded like.

It's okay, Jake. I wish
we'd talk like that more.

No.

Where you from?

Passed around the system.

Never stayed anywhere long
enough to call it home.

Ooh, that's a good answer.

Yeah, that one was mine.

I speak the language of the streets.

It was actually from
"Girl, Interrupted."

Yeah.

Oh, it's happening. She
dropped the contraband.

Hey, where you get that crap?

I got a hookup on the outside,

so I can get anything for a price.

This is yours...

if you can get the word
out about my store.

Okay, I can do that.

Cellie for my cellie.

Oh, no... wordplay? Abort.

Cellie? I get it. Funny.

- Oh, it actually worked.
- Huh.

People are really starved
for entertainment in here.

- Jail is hell.
- Yeah.

All that we know about
Figgis's man in the FBI

is that he's a white male
of average height and build,

and according to Jake, he
has a scar on his hand.

Oh, this is a long-shot,
but if his name is Joe,

could we call him Scar-Joe?

Scar-Joe. Never heard that before.

I like it. We'll use it.

Now, funeral assignments.

Gina and I will greet people,

shaking hands and checking
for the tell-tale scar.

Excuse me, sir.

Are you sure you want to
be on the receiving line?

You hate small talk.

No, I can turn it on
when it's called for.

"The Bachelor" is a
television show, hmm?

Andre Agassi's at it again.

I, too, avoid gluten.

Okay.

I want the rest of you
checking out the crowd

for anyone suspicious.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Am I interrupting?

No, we just all came in here separately

and then started chatting,
you know, breezy stuff.

"The Bachelor" is a television show.

Andre Agassi's at it again.

I, too, am avoiding gluten.

Do you see Amy? How is she?

Great. She just got lunch,
double helping of spinach.

Baby's gonna love that folic acid.

You are so strange.

All right, this is her first
time eating in the dining hall.

Where she chooses to
sit is very important.

Oh, good, she's headed towards
that table of hot blonde girls.

Wait a minute. No.

They're Nazis.

The hotties are Nazis. They're hot-zis.

Swerve, Amy, swerve!

Good, good, good, good, good, good.

Okay, and...

All right, sitting alone.

Bold choice, bold choice. Hmm.

Oh, here comes Maura.

Hey, Cortez.

I hear you can smuggle
in crap from outside.

Noice, it's working.

That's right, baby.

What do you want?

What I want...

is for you to back the hell off...

because I'm the only
store in this prison.

Uh-oh.

Well, I didn't see your name

on the outside of the prison,

unless your name is

Texas State Penitentiary
Comma Spring Valley Unit.

Oh, this is bad.

I can't believe I'm gonna say this,

but she should have
sat with the hot-zis.

Hey, what's going on?

I was talking to Figgis
and then the guard said

I had an appointment.

I'm not supposed to
check in until tomorrow.

People might get suspicious.

Look, we called you in

because your first contact
with Figgis was a disaster.

Why? Because our
smuggling plan backfired

and she threatened to kill me?

Yes, every single detail
of what you just said.

- We need a new plan.
- And I've got one.

- I need to step to her.
- Step to her?

Amy, this isn't "High School Musical."

Yeah, Amy, this isn't
"High School Musical 2."

Yeah, and it isn't

"High School Musical 3: Senior Year."

All right.

Point is, it's not a
high school musical.

- That's right.
- I got it.

Look, Figgis is seriously
dangerous, all right?

She's killed more people in prison

than she did on the outside.

I know, and if I back down now

she'll never respect me

and we'll get nowhere with her.

Trust me, I've got this.

Okay, I can see that logic,

but in the interest of keeping you

as un-shanked as possible,

I think maybe we need a signal
in case things go south.

Ooh, I know. Scratch your butt.

No, that's no good. What if
her butt itches for real?

I think I can handle it.

I've made it through
20 years of adulthood

without scratching my butt in public.

- Amy.
- Amy.

- Come on.
- Come on.

Come on.

All right.

Never? Ames, come on.

Come on.

Yo, it's too bad, right?

Hello, thank you so much for coming.

High five?

Detective Pimento didn't want
his funeral to feel stuffy.

Condolences, my man.

What's going on, sir?

Why are you high-fiving the bereaved?

The handshakes weren't working.

You couldn't see the inside
of the thumb webbing.

Gina came up with an artful solution.

I'm very sorry for your loss.

Get some.

The system works.

Any sign of Scar-Joe?

Not yet.

I don't know how much
more of this I can take.

All these jerks keep on
asking me how I'm doing.

This shouldn't be so difficult.

Your fianc� did really
leave. Just act sad about it.

Fine, I'll pretend to be sad.

I'll make myself cry.

Watch:

That's not how this works.

Or is it?

Suck it, Sarge.

Hey.

Give me those 20-pounders.

Wait your turn, Baby-Sitters Club.

No weight lifting.

You can shoot that baby across the room.

Come on.

What's going on? I was stepping to her.

I know, but it wasn't a good time.

She was holding a 20-pound weight.

That's basically Thor's hammer, babe.

- I can handle myself.
- Cool, yeah.

Just, you know, don't
confront her when she's armed.

Fine.

Seriously? She was at lunch.
She didn't have a weapon.

She had a fork.

That's like four tiny shivs on a stick.

What the hell?

Socks are just a noose
waiting to be braided.

We were playing hearts.

In the wrong hands, every playing card

is like a throwing star.

She was alone, her hands were empty,

and I think she was napping.

So what was the big threat this time?

You did the signal.

You scratched your butt. Right, Boyle?

Uh, I don't know. I was
focused on her waddle.

Which you are nailing, by the way.

Well, I know for a fact that
I didn't scratch my butt

because my right cheek
was actually itchy

and I fought through it.

I know what's really going on here.

You don't think I'm
tough enough to do this.

Okay, you know what? Fine,
you're right, I don't.

But it's only because Maura
is so much more terrifying

than we anticipated.

I mean, she has a full back tattoo

of herself stabbing a guy.

He looks like Tom Hanks!

Yeah, and that's
America's male sweetheart.

I can't believe this.

You wouldn't tell Rosa to stand down.

Well, yeah, because she's Rosa.

I mean, one time, I saw
her eat a whole apple

using a knife, just like in the movies.

Get over the apple thing.
That was three years ago.

I know, it was just so cool.

Look, I'm your handler, all right?

You have to just trust me on this.

My job is to keep you
safe. It's the right call.

Fine, I'll slow-play it.

But people are getting suspicious,

so you can't come running in

every time I'm in the
same room with her, okay?

Yeah, okay.

Are we good?

Yeah, we're good.

This is so sweet. Now kiss her belly.

- Boyle!
- Boyle!

So let us all bow our heads

and join together for
a moment of silence.

This church is so quiet.

Pretty normal for a moment of silence.

Captain has eyes on a guy
he thinks might be Scar-Joe.

Okay, be cool. Let's check him out.

Please make me defile this church.

What do you want?

Take off your gloves
and show us your hands.

And no scar.

He's just a glove-wearing
freak with beautiful hands.

Why did he run then?

He's a pickpocket.

I guess the bereft are easy targets.

Also, Scully, here's your wallet back.

How's Amy doing?

Is she paying enough
attention to her pelvic floor?

Ignoring that.

She is keeping a low profile,
just like we discussed.

I'm really impressed with you two.

You disagreed with the best strategy,

but talked it through like adults.

Well, the key is trust.

I trust her to stay out of danger,

and she trusts me not to interfere.

Oh, my God.

She just pushed Figgis into the garbage.

She's in danger. I must interfere.

What the hell do you
think you're doing, huh?

Showing my unborn baby
how an ass gets kicked.

All right, Cortez,
time for your checkup.

No, thank you, I feel fine.

No, you don't.

It's your uterus, it's... gonna explode.

- What?
- Come with me.

Stand back, everyone. You're
all in the splash zone.

This ute's gonna boot.

Here we go.

What the hell?

We agreed you weren't gonna do that.

You disobeyed a direct
order from your handler.

Yeah, I did. Because
that order was crap.

I did the right thing

and it's insulting that
you don't see that.

Hey, hey, hey.

The baby can hear you yelling
and it's upsetting him.

It's a fake baby, Charles.

I meant me. The baby's a cover.

Okay, stop.

You're right. I'm 100% in the wrong.

The truth is, I'm the one

that's not tough enough to be in here.

I mean, watching the woman I love,

unarmed, locked up with
all these murderers.

It's just too much for me.

Oh, my God. Amy, go to him.

- I screwed up.
- No, you didn't.

I get it.

Being a cop and dating a cop...

It's harder than I thought it would be.

I worry about you too.

Oh, my God. Jake, go to her.

Look, I was just trying
to keep you safe,

but I wasn't letting you do your job.

I'm sorry.

Why aren't you going to each other?

I think I have to take myself
off of this assignment.

Are you sure?

Absolutely. You got this.

Hopefully, I haven't
already blown your cover

by dragging you into my office

so many times.

Also, I'm pretty sure a
lot of people heard me say

that your baby's blood type is "OG."

Yeah, you're a pretty terrible doctor.

Mm-hmm.

But... I think I know how
to get things back on track.

Hey, Cortez, you're late
for your appointment.

Quit touching me.

Oh! Ugh!

I don't need checkups every two seconds,

you dimple-chinned freak!

Oh! Aah... ow!

You're so tough and I'm just
a beautiful intellectual.

Hey,

I love beating up doctors.

- Can I get in there?
- No! He's mine.

All of you, back off!

I'm kicking for two.

Sorry that wasn't Scar-Joe.

I don't want to talk about it.

Talking about your
feelings is for losers.

I guess Adele's a loser in your world.

Look, the funeral's almost over,

we basically pulled it off.

All you've got to do is
give a convincing eulogy.

Roger that.

Pimento's dead.

Thanks for coming.

Adrian Pimento was very special to me.

And now he's gone.

And I'm starting to realize...

there's nothing I can
do to bring him back.

I guess life is just
gonna suck for a while.

But it's nice to know
there's a room full of people

who is sucks for too.

I'd also like to add...

the next person who hugs me
gets their necks snapped.

And... she's back.

Okay, this is it, I'm leaving.

You're in charge.

I'll take extra good care of her, Jake.

Just let her do her thing.

But this is Texas, so also make sure

she doesn't somehow
get the death penalty.

Mm-hmm.

Stay tough, Cortez.

You're touching her boob.
Should I turn away, or...

I'm not touching her boob.
She's tiny on the screen.

I'm just saying good-bye, man.

You know, why don't I
turn and give you privacy?

No, don't turn. That's
what makes it weird.

Ugh!

Well, we pulled it off.

Nice eulogy.

- I thought it was dumb.
- Sergeant?

Excuse me?

You said there's nothing you
can do to bring him back,

but you're wrong.

None of us are gonna stop
fighting until he comes home.

Thanks.

And if you ever need to talk,

or get drunk,

or throw stuff off a roof,

I mean, I don't know your process.

Am I hitting on anything here?

The roof thing sounds pretty good.

Very well. Let's throw
something off the roof

and then we'll get back to work.

High five.

I quite like them now.

What are you looking
at? You got a problem?

Whoa. Cool it, killer.

I just wanted to say good job

on beating the crap out of that doctor.

Oh. Thanks.

I like you. You got balls.

Maybe you should come work for me.

I could use a bruiser on my crew.

I'm not a bruiser.

I'm a psycho.

Even better.

Nice job, Cortez.

Oh, I touched her boob.
I've got to tell Jake!

Sync & corrections by dzimu_kairu