All language subtitles for surrealestate.s01e06.1080p.web.h264-ggwp_Subtitles01.ENG

I don't believe in ghosts.

Neither do I.

I just work with them.

‐ I still have these moments

when I think maybe you should be
detained and studied.

‐ Well, you'd have to
buy me dinner first.

Zooey! You get to drive Susan
out to the coast.

And leave her for dead, right?

‐ This is why
we don't have HR.

I just thought you were

the office manager.

‐ I contain multitudes.
‐ Anything else?

Who's the
referring agent?

‐ Seriously?
‐ Rita Weiss.

Hm.

This got scary fast.

I know I'm late

but people took forever

and there's no way
they could afford the place.

I'm on my way, Honey.

Okay! As fast as I can! Geez!

Whew!

Hnh‐‐

A touch after 5 o'clock

on this beautiful
Tuesday afternoon.

Next up,
handyman Andrew Anderson

talks to us about
the wonders of

low maintenance
composite decking.

Some might call it
a mundane topic.

Well, there is fun

in the mundane!

Beat ya!

Pass me another one,

would ya?

♪♪♪♪♪

‐ Sorry. You asked for it.

‐ All right,
here's to Friday

and a weekend
of possibilities.

On the count of three. One...

Two... three!

You're late.

‐ For our 9:30 meeting,
which you rescheduled twice?

Look,

I'm giving you this listing.
It's a present.

Like the dollar bills
all those sad women used

to tuck into your Speedo
in college.

‐ Why me?

‐ Taking some time off.

You remember my assistant,
Gabriel?

‐ Oh, I try not to get attached
to your assistants, Rita.

They're like bunnies
in cosmetics testing ‐‐

you just know
something terrible's

going to happen to them.

‐ He died.

The dim bulb ran into
a tree branch.

It went through his eye socket
and into his brain.

Who knew he even had one? Ha.

‐ I'm sorry for your loss.

‐ Yeah, well,
I've had this vacation

on the books for months
and now this happens.

Gabriel's final middle finger
from the grave.

‐ Is this why you're
giving me the listing?

‐ Look, if you don't want
it, I'll call someone normal.

‐ Let's go inside
and look around.

‐ Sorry, but Mister
"I'm going to die

and complicate Rita's life"
took the lockbox code

when he became a baritone
in the choir eternal.

I've got a locksmith
coming out later.

Anything else?
I need to pack.

Again: why me?

‐ Gabriel's death wasn't
the first on the premises.

It's your kind of place.

‐ We should send flowers
or something.

‐ Gabriel was
Rita's assistant.

Almost qualifies
as euthanasia. ‐

‐ There is more.
The house has history.

So, the former owner,

Catherine Owens,

was arrested for murdering
her tenant about a year ago.

‐ Hm. Nana broke bad.

‐ Miz Owens was
kind of agoraphobic.

Owned the place for ten years,
hardly ever left...

Just sat in there
playing her cello.

Cops had to drag her out. ‐

‐ She ever confess?

‐ Says she plead innocent.

No other fingerprints
or forced entry...

Jury saw enough circumstantial
evidence to convict.

‐ What happened
to the victim?

‐ Well, it just says
a head wound.

Let me see if I can get
any more specifics.

‐ Would it be insensitive
to ask why we care?

‐ Hm.

‐ Well, it's
our listing.

We have a duty
to report any murder

to any prospective buyers.

Wouldn't hurt to know
the details.

‐ Rita didn't mention
any residual phenomena?

‐ Of course
it could have

slipped her mind
in her crushing grief.

When you do the PKT,
stay outside the house for now.

We don't know
what we don't know yet.

It seems overly cautious.

‐ I get a big "stay out" vibe
from this house, Augie.

Until we know what's up,
just use the exterior sensor.

I have a meeting
but I'll be reachable.

‐ Oh! Ah, that reporter
from Channel Six keeps calling.

Do you want me to
forward the message?

‐ Hey, do you know
an Edwin Calabasas?

‐ Left us a bunch of
staticky voicemail messages.

Turns out he owns one of those
big old houses on University Row

and wants to list it ASAP.

‐ Wow. Those sell instantly.
How'd he find us?

‐ He said we were recommended
by an associate

and he couldn't
remember the name.

‐ Okay, two listings
with no sellers

looking over our shoulders.

How lucky are we?

‐ Hm. Your dad
used to make this?

I looked forward to it

every weekend.

My dad marinated
the chicken for hours.

Then he'd cook it in oil
and sugar 'til it caramelized

and he'd add other spices
and stuff.

And he'd make enough for
ten or twelve people.

And the house was filled
with this wonderful smell.

I used to think Trinidad
must be this wonderful place

that always smelled like
a Sunday afternoon.

‐ It's really good.

‐ Mm, I love this place, Zaboca.

They make the best
Pelau in town,

but dad's recipe
spoiled me for life.

Parents.

They mess
you up, right?

Sorry.

‐ No, it's okay, you're right.

My dad made me a Padres fan.

‐ What time is it?

I have a ton of classes
and labs to register for.

‐ Already? We haven't even
looked at any listings!

The new condos on Daly ‐‐
they're incredible.

Beautiful views.
I can get you a deal!

‐ I'm gonna send you a link!
Hot, 11‐foot ceilings

in your area,
waiting to meet you!

Ew.

‐ What?

‐ This lady got her eye
shot out with an arrow.

‐ It's all fun and games
until someone pokes an eye out.

Hm.

I need to see your superior.

‐ Uh, Luke's out.
What's up, Rita?

‐ He asked to see the open house
guest book for the Owens house.

Here.

‐ So, what, this was, uh...

Last Saturday?

‐ Mm‐hm.

Feel free to sell the Owens
place to one of those people

but the other 15 names
on that list are my clients

and out‐of‐bounds.
Mitts off.

‐ Anybody here was
particularly interested?

‐ Mm, I'm afraid my assistant
took that insight to his grave.

‐ He's literally
in a better place now.

‐ If so, he's wearing
some kind of corrective lenses.

‐ He died from a stick
through the eye.

Bye‐bye!

Huh.

‐ We better call Luke.

This woman is on the list.

‐ Oh, I don't think so.

It's like it was daring me

to come inside.

‐ I'm glad you didn't.

‐ The exterior sensor

should still allow us
to monitor its activity.

‐ Telling me four deaths have
been associated with this house?

Yep.

Four counting
the original murder victim.

‐ Okay, let's just
look at the first name

on the open house list
for a second ‐‐

Marcy Nunes.
Had an accident at home.

Tuesday.

‐ Yeah. Impaled herself
with a knitting needle;

right through the eye.

‐ Like Gabriel.
We are sure?

‐ Yeah, I confirmed with my
contact at the coroner's.

Then, three days later,

Anna Mayer.

Bizarre archery‐related mishap.

‐ God, so much death
and yet Rita Weiss

still walks the earth.

‐ Rita Weiss wasn't
at this open house.

Knowing her
management style,

it's possible she never
even went inside at all.

It's like this house
doesn't want any visitors.

‐ It seemed
to invite me in.

‐ Gabriel died on Saturday.
Marcy Nunes, what? Tuesday?

‐ Then Anna on Friday.

‐ Three days apart.
Anything?

‐ Oh, pick your poison:
Celtic Triads, Holy Trinity,

the Osirian triad,
all of Pythagoras.

‐ Okay, so the first thing
we need to do is warn

the next name on the list.

Three days from Friday
is tonight.

Ross Parsons.

‐ Phil, you'll get in touch?
‐ Mm‐hm.

‐ Call the warden,
Braden Correctional.

Let's see if I can
get a few minutes

with Catherine Owens.

‐ Think she
has an accomplice?

‐ Think she might be innocent.

‐ Oh!

‐ I can say cheese
in the next one.

Oh! My bad.

No big thing.

‐ I'm Reese. You can, uh, come
on up. Who're you here to see?

Taylor? Or it's probably, uh,
Mason, actually.

Wha! Watch your, uh‐‐

‐ Oh!
‐ ...step. Hm. Party foul.

‐ Ha‐ha!
‐ Hm.

‐ I'll, uh, yeah,
I'll go wake up the Maceman.

We had quite a night last night,
but I'm sure he'll be happy

you're here. You guys
can talk...

compounds and, uh,
valencies and whatnot.

I‐I'm sorry, you are the, uh...

chemistry tutor
his dad hired, right?

‐ I sell houses.

I left you three messages.

‐ Right. Right. I'm, uh‐‐
wh‐what'd they say?

‐ Your landlord's
selling the house.

I just need to take
some quick pictures.

‐ Don't know how
I feel about that.

‐ Great. Great!

Yeah. Sure.

‐ Oh, my god!

This is a dumpster
with utilities.

‐ Yeah, we like it.

Look, I'm going to be honest
with you, all right?

Our landlord is
kind of a douche, all right?

And I don't really like the idea
of helping him sell,

but this new owner
jacks up our rent‐‐

‐ He has the right
to sell his own property.

‐ Yeah. Yeah‐yeah‐yeah,
of course. But, uh...

talk to the boys first, right?
And our buddy, Chops,

he's pre‐law, so

he'll know something about our
constitutional human rights.

‐ By all means, consult Chops,
but I need these photos.

‐ You gotta call me.
Tomorrow, no later.

I mean it.

‐ Just gotta
find the phone.

‐ I'll let myself out.

‐ You do that.

So, you're saying

I'm going to die by a
thing through my eye?

This sounds like
so much bullshit.

‐ Three people are
ahead of you on that list.

All three have died.

You appear to be next‐‐

‐ Because we looked at a house.

‐ We don't know.

But I thought you should,
at the very least‐‐

‐ Buy the house?

‐ Well, I was going to
suggest that you be careful.

Take a few precautions.

Stay where you are.

Just a moment.

I don't know you.

‐ Luke Roman.
Thanks for seeing me.

‐ There was a window
in my busy schedule.

‐ Ms. Owens, I am the, uh,
real estate agent

who's in charge of
selling your, uh...

The house you used to live in.

‐ I thought you were a writer.

Or one of those movie people.

A commission‐craving
house hooker.

What a disappointment!

‐ I see you've been
talking to my mom.

‐ I do love my house.

How is it?

‐ Well, I was just there
the other day. It's fine.

‐ But you did not go in.

‐ Ms. Owens ‐‐ Catherine? ‐‐

you've always claimed
to be innocent

of Amos Allenby's murder.

‐ I have.

Because I am.

‐ I think that it is possible

we might be able
to help you prove that.

‐ You think so?

‐ How long had you had
Mister Allenby as a tenant?

‐ Four weeks.

Maybe five.

I did my best to pretend
he wasn't there.

‐ When did you
find out he died?

‐ When the police told me
my prints were on

the murder weapon.

I wasn't aware I even owned
a murder weapon.

Surprise!

It was my bow,
the bow from my cello...

covered with my fingerprints.

People are such snobs about
their precious Pernambucos

but carbon fiber provides the
perfect blend of flexibility

and strength.

I suppose the murderer
proved that.

Perhaps there's an
endorsement in his future.

‐ At the time of the murder,
you were...?

‐ Riding my bicycle
by the water,

like I did most afternoons.

‐ By yourself?

‐ The killer knew my patterns,

my habits,

and found them
suitable for framing.

‐ Being in here is a
pretty good alibi.

This past week, three people
who attended an Open House

at your home died.

In a way very similar to
Mister Allenby.

Officially, they're all
accidents.

‐ But unofficially?

‐ If you're in here,

maybe the killer
is still out there.

‐ Real estate agents
fighting crime.

I thought you spent your time
posing for bus benches.

‐ Look,

can't promise you anything but,
uh, we're going to look into it.

I'll be in touch.

‐ Mister Roman...

Take good care
of my house.

Do sell it to somebody nice.

‐ So I said, "Look, I'm not
trying to be an asshole,

but there's no excuse for
missing that deadline." Okay?

Now, I know you're
a vegetarian. You just‐‐

‐ Whoa.

‐ Jeezus...

You'd think they'd be
a little careful.

Awesome. Yeah, this is
what I'm talking about.

Best steak in the city.

Give it to me!

‐ It's great, thanks.
Keep it coming, okay?

Hey!

Ahh!

God! Oh my god. Oh!

‐ Mom!

‐ Is there a doctor here?

Friends say Parsons was smart,

friendly and enjoyed
fine dining.

‐ I should have
scared him more.

Should have done something.

‐ No. No way.

‐ You warned him.

‐ I was pretty sure
the house was the problem

until I looked
into Catherine's eyes.

‐ And what'd you see?

‐ Arrogance.

Precision. A kind of
self‐satisfaction

you don't expect
in a correctional setting.

What have you got?

‐ The, uh,

PKT monitor showed
very little initial activity.

But we clearly see
psychokinetic energy

rise steadily for 48 hours
until it peaks here.

Spikes, actually.

‐ Right when Ross Parsons
was getting his eye poked out.

‐ And exactly
three days after

Anna Mayer got her
shot to the eye.

‐ What kind of monster
wreaks vengeance

on a few looky‐loos at
an open house?

‐ I'm gonna look into death
markers, tracers, homers...

‐ Rippers?

‐ Could be rippers.

Maybe look at hollabacks, too,
flycasters, inkstains.

‐ Mumfords.

‐ Wait, what are these things?
What's a Mumford?

‐ It's a spirit that
does the same thing

over and over and over again.

‐ Hey, I like
Mumford and Sons.

‐ I keep coming
back to precision.

‐ What about a Poindexter?

‐ What about...

Even worse?

‐ What? Peabody?

Nah, a killing spree
is way off‐brand

for a Peabody.

‐ Oh, shit.
A Watchmaker.

‐ It fits. You gotta admit.

‐ Oh, dear.

‐ Bring me along here, guys.
What's a Watchmaker?

‐ They came over with the
flood of German immigration

in the mid‐1800's.

They gave us kindergarten and
Christmas trees and Watchmakers.

‐ Basically, it's a
very methodical demon

that does very bad things
in the same way

in a very precise order.

‐ We need to find all the people
that went to that open house.

We need to warn them.
We need to scare them,

if we have to ‐‐ it is
literally life or death.

‐ That's gonna be a problem.

This is the next name
in the book.

Is that even a name?

‐ Is there a number? An email?

So, we just need to warn
a nameless, faceless person

that they're the next victim
of a nameless, faceless killer.

‐ I have my own problems.

‐ Reese?

‐ It's the real estate lady!

‐ That is correct.

‐ Hi. Can you open the door?

‐ Sure.

Taylor, Mase.

‐ Hm.

You didn't call.

‐ Yeah? No. Yeah!

That was, uh,
on advice of counsel.

‐ How is Chops?

‐ Chops says that
you need a warrant.

‐ I'm not a cop!
I don't want your weed.

‐ Unaware of this, uh,
"weed" you speak of.

‐ Reese, I just need
the pictures, okay?

Please?

‐ Oh, I'm getting real
disappointed mom vibes from you

and I already got
one of those, so...

You're gonna need to go.
Sorry. No pictures.

‐ If‐‐ Yo‐‐

‐ I am so sorry,
I hate to do this

especially since you're
already on our bench.

‐ Oh, this bench
isn't so special.

I'll hang with anyone
who sits down.

We attack at dawn!

Let me go!

‐ Oh, he seems nice.

So, you have class tonight?

‐ Nah, think I'll just
chill at home.

Got a huge
endocrinology lab coming up.

Maybe head up to the attic
and have a pillow fight

with your mom?

Or, maybe you
should help me...

find a new place?

‐ I'll call you. I promise.

‐ Goodbye.

‐ It's a lovely property
in a desirable neighborhood,

Mister Calabasas,
but the current‐‐

tenants are
being difficult.

‐ They're parasites.

Overprivileged, little
dung beetles

who chose my property as...
shit shack.

I've tried to evict them.

Now, I just want them to be
someone else's problem.

‐ We need great photos
to sell the place.

Then we'll "leak" the listing
to a‐a curated list of investors

and parents who want a great
campus location,

or income property.
It'll sell instantly.

‐ I've chosen
the right agent.

‐ But it all starts
with the photos.

Nothing fancy,
empty rooms is fine,

but they won't‐‐

‐ You figure it out.

The thought of those little
tapeworms burrowing deeper

into my portfolio
vexes me. I can't rest.

‐ Sir, you
should know that‐‐

‐ I have every confidence
in you, Ms. Ireland.

Goodbye.

‐ I'm not even sure
these characters are from

the modern English alphabet.

‐ Zooey, who do we use
for legal work?

‐ Wait, you want to sic
a lawyer on the frat guys?

‐ I need the photos.

‐ That is the absolutely
the wrong way to do it.

All right.
One question:

Did you ever own or operate
an iron during college?

‐ Natural fabrics
require proper care.

‐ Hm. We have our answer.

‐ I just need the
name of the lawyer.

‐ All right, look, I...

... can get you your photos
without the lawyer.

‐ Why would you,
even if you could?

‐ Because

I am

loving the fact

that you can't. Hm‐hm.

‐ Fabulous for you.

Hey, Luke.

‐ Any luck on the
autograph of the damned?

‐ Nope. August is trying
to hack Gabriel's email,

see if there's
anything there.

‐ Another great idea.

I always send out follow‐up
emails for open houses.

‐ I'm all over it.

‐ Look, I talked off‐the‐record
to a guy I know.

A homicide detective.
As far as they're concerned,

these are all accidents.

Whoever's doing this knows
exactly where the victim is

and how to murder them
at any precise moment.

‐ Not any moment.
Three‐day intervals.

Why not just knock them
all off at once?

‐ I'm telling you,
it's gotta be a Watchmaker.

‐ Whatever it is,

we're running out of time.

Boom. Boom.

Boom! You did not see
that coming! Ha‐ha‐ha.

‐ Wow, that was awesome!
Can you show me?

‐ Yeah. It's just, uh,
B, left, down, up.

‐ I‐I'm sorry. Who are you?

‐ I'm Zooey.

I live, um, over there.
Anyways, um...

me and my roommates,
Amber and Sheera,

we were doing this Tik Tok
challenge where we, like,

party in every room
in every house on the block.

Sounds like a lot of work.

‐ Omigod, I know, right?

Thought it was going to be,
like, way easy.

I just came from next door.

No offense, but they are,
like, really boring.

‐ Well, we are
way more fun.

‐ If you are, you usually
don't have to say that.

You guys are kind of cute.

Can I post you doing
the Wake Down dance?

‐ Um...

‐ So easy and my roommates
would, like, die.

‐ Ta, sure.

‐ Yeah? Awesome! Let me
hook up to your Bluetooth.

All right.

‐ Sweet! We just got to,
like, clear all this...

stuff.

I can move it?

‐ Yeah, like, now.

‐ Move it?
‐ Yeah.

‐ Oh, okay. Sure. Yeah.

‐ Sweet.

‐ Um, okay,
this will go over here?

‐ Just over there.
No! Watch the floor.

‐ Watch the floor, she says!

‐ Ah! Yeah. There you go.

‐ Ohhhh! Skate style.

Does it have to‐have to
come down?

‐ Just move that
right over there.

‐ Whoa! Whoa‐ho.

‐ Fantastic, boys!

‐ It's dance thing?

‐ Yeah.

Ready, boys?

‐ Mm‐hm.

‐ Five‐six...

Seven, eight.

♪♪♪ Cookies on my plate
While life can make me wait ♪♪♪

♪♪♪ Cookies on my plate
I've got cookies on my plate ♪♪♪

♪♪♪ Cookies on my plate
While life can make me wait ♪♪♪

♪♪♪ Cookies on my plate, wha ♪♪♪

♪♪♪ Oh‐oh‐oh‐oh ♪♪♪

Can you get a lower angle?

‐ I said I have got this.

♪♪♪♪♪

‐ God, Zooey, it's like you have
some strange, hypnotic power

over these poor boys.

Thank goodness you're
using it for good

and not evil.

Ooh! I'm trying to show off
some of that crown molding.

‐ All right, guys,
back to ones!

Good, job, boys!

We got it!

Guys?

Oh!

‐ Ah. I got you. Pull.

‐ Yeah. Phil.

‐ Hey, you visit
the prison yet?

‐ I'm on my way.
‐ Okay, stop.

Just stop.
I found something.

‐ Okay.

‐ In 1969, a 16‐year‐old
named Margaret Heyward

died at Adreniland
on a school trip.

The safety bar
on her chair swing

came up all by itself.

‐ So?
‐ Okay,

three days earlier

Margaret Heyward
had recently bested

half a dozen classmates
to become first‐chair cello.

‐ So?

‐ Second chair
was her best friend,

Catherine Owens.

‐ Three days...

‐ Exactly three days.

‐ I did it! Whoo.

‐ All right, let's post!

‐ Oh, I would, but‐‐

‐ You want a beer?

‐ Sorry, my ride's coming.

‐ Oh, um...

So...

you, uh, want to hang out
some time or...?

‐ Oh,

Reese.

I'm grown enough to be your hot,

unattainable, slightly ‐‐

slightly ‐‐

older cousin.

‐ All right, so...

You'll text me?

‐ Okay, bye.

‐ I have no words.

‐ I think that's best.

Are they still looking?

‐ Yeah.
‐ Okay, can you go now?

‐ Yeah.
‐ Please? Thank you.

All this attention.

You're gonna turn a girl's head.

Tell me: how'd you do it?

‐ I don't know
what you mean.

‐ You didn't
like Amos Allenby.

‐ He was in my house.

Did you know he watched me
in my shower, Mr. Roman?

‐ But what about
Margaret Heyward?

You killed your best friend
because she beat you out

for first chair?

‐ I'm sure I don't know
what you're talking about.

‐ I think we should
talk tomorrow.

There will be lots
to talk about tomorrow.

‐ Mr. Calabasas?
Susan Ireland.

The listing is live!

The offers should
start rolling in.

Um, I've sent you the link

and I just want to
make sure that you‐‐

‐ Splendid. Contact my attorney
when you have offers.

He'll be pleased
to consummate the sale.

‐ So, I‐I should
talk to him, not you?

‐ You've ‐‐ great help to

‐ Uh.

‐ ...at last,
I can move on.

‐ Sorry, you're
breaking up. I can't‐‐

‐ Hello?

‐ Hm.

Hm.

‐ Hey, I'm sorry.
Did you order?

You're starving.

‐ Luke, I love seeing you,

but if work is too crazy,
I get it.

‐ No, I need to eat. Let's eat.

Here we are,
two normal adults, eating.

‐ The Owens house has just
been‐been nothing but trouble.

‐ Oh.

‐ I'm sorry, it's just...

‐ I can't believe people
were into that house.

That striped wallpaper
in the hallway?

Made me crave
a peppermint stick!

Or a haircut! God!

‐ What?

‐ You were in
the Owens open house?

‐ You caught me, Luke.
I'm cheating on you.

I'm seeing other agents.

I hope we can
still be friends.

‐ Your email...

wasn't on the guest list.

‐ I gave it
to the guy afterward.

Verbally.

Luke, what's wrong?

You told me to look
at anything I liked.

I'll give you guys a minute.

‐ What about the spoons?

‐ You really think she's
going to get spooned in the eye?

‐ Guys in prison sharpen those
things and use it as a shiv.

‐ Spoons.

‐ Mm. This is ridiculous.

‐ Okay. You're scaring me.

‐ Why did you scribble like that
on the sign‐in sheet?

‐ That's how
I sign my name!

‐ Hm. You'll make
a great doctor.

‐ August, what's your timeline?
What could we do here?

‐ If the, uh, PKT patterns
from the Owens house

continue to replicate those
recorded before the, uh...

the untimely passing
of Ross Parsons,

it will peak ‐‐
roughly four hours.

‐ She likes to keep
to her schedule.

‐ Yeah, she has to.
Gotta take a lot out of you,

structuring destinies
to smite your enemies.

You'd need some
recovery time, too.

‐ Three days.

Then your eye lights up,
see your next target and...

boing!

‐ Sorry.

But remember:
she's a watchmaker.

She has to kill
in the order of the list.

Anything messes up the schedule,
or the order, it's a problem.

‐ Enormous problem.

‐ Game changer.

‐ You guys know how dumb
this sounds, right?

‐ The truth can be dumb.

But that doesn't stop it
from being, you know, true.

‐ Now, see, if you
would have said that,

it would have come off
all brilliant and ironic.

‐ Delivery.

‐ Okay. Check this out.

‐ Meter readers. Cable guys.
Jehovah's Witnesses.

All of them entered
Catherine's house at some point

and all of them died from a
bizarre accident afterwards.

This lady is a Dahmer‐scale
mass murderer,

but since everything
looks like an accident,

nobody ever noticed.

‐ I've never even met her!

And didn't you say she
was already in jail

when I went to the open house?

‐ When you went inside,

she saw you.

The house had
marked you somehow.

Now she's aware
of where you are.

‐ Probably not a
constant awareness.

I mean, structuring events
in the mind? That's one thing.

Omniscient awareness?

That's reserved for God.

‐ And Facebook.

‐ She is not watching you
right now but she will be soon.

‐ Yeah. In four hours.

‐ So,

that's when she takes something
like Phil's tablet stylus

and pokes it
into my frontal lobe?

‐ Dude!

‐ Why is she doing this?

‐ I don't know.

‐ So what if it doesn't?

‐ What?

‐ What if it fails?

What if it gets off schedule
or out of sequence...

What happens then?

‐ That's an
interesting question.

Watchmakers need
everything in sequence,

in order.

One, two, three.

‐ But if we
interrupt that order...

‐ One, two... four.

‐ You throw it into a loop.

‐ What kind of a loop?

‐ Imagine a computer with a
spinning wheel that never ends,

searching for an answer
it can never find.

‐ An electronic stroke.

‐ I know that this
is a desperate time

and I really want to
be here for both of you,

but

I just got a cash offer
on Calabasas,

20 grand above asking.

Would it be in horribly
bad taste if I...?

‐ Go, for crying out loud.

‐ Go. Take care of business.

She powerful enough to get
past Zooey, we are all doomed.

‐ Where're you going?

‐ To the bathroom.

One door away.

You removed everything sharp,
including the hand soap.

‐ Hey. Don't be mad.

‐ What are you, crazy?
What are you do‐‐?

‐ Look, I remembered:

today's the last day to register
for my endocrinology lab.

I needed to get that lab
in person or my year is shot!

Okay, you can be all mad at me

when I get back.

‐ This is your life.

‐ I'm fine! I gotta go.

‐ Oops! Sorry.

Hey‐hey‐hey. Whoa‐whoa‐whoa.

‐ Well,

aren't we a little
dark raincloud today.

‐ Why?

She did nothing to you
and she meant nothing to you.

Before I dispatched
that little shit‐weasel

who watched me in the shower,

hardly anyone entered my house.

I was hungry.

But now I have
real estate people,

lookers, shoppers...

Soon I'll have a family.

And they'll all have
horrible accidents.

And the whole
wonderful dance

will begin again.

Precisely

three

days

at a time.

You loved her,
didn't you?

Better to have
loved and lost,

no?

Need a medic in visits!

Code blue! Medic in visits!
Code Blue!

Code blue! Medic!

‐ It's the Calabasas commission.

‐ Ooh. Doing deposits
this afternoon.

‐ By the way, Luke approved
a bonus for you on it.

You earned it.

‐ Thank you so much
for assigning a dollar value

to my dignity.

‐ Ooh. Not bad.

‐ That's odd.

‐ What?

James Lattimore.

‐ Mr. Lattimore, you are Edwin
Calabasas' attorney, correct?

‐ That is correct.

‐ This is Susan Ireland.

I just received a commission
from a property we sold

for Mister Calabasas?

‐ The Edwin Calabasas
Memorial Trust

has real estate holdings
all over the world.

I assume they hired you.

‐ I actually dealt with
Mister Calabasas directly.

‐ Ah‐ha. That's not possible,
Ms. Ireland.

Mister Calabasas passed on
eight years ago.

Will there be anything else?

‐ Un, no, that's everything.
Thank you!

‐ So, to recap,

we got hired by a ghost

to cleanse his house

of the people
who were haunting it.

‐ Hey, as long as
the check clears.

‐ So, what just happened?

‐ She's a watchmaker.
She knew you'd be dead,

yet she saw you alive.

Enough of a paradox
to send her into a loop.

‐ Forever?

‐ Well, way beyond
Catherine Owens' expiration.

‐ Good.

I'd hate to have
died in vain.

♪♪♪ Well, I‐I‐I‐I
wanna make you cry ♪♪♪

♪♪♪ But I, I, I, I
Gotta take my time ♪♪♪

♪♪♪ Yeah, you ♪♪♪

♪♪♪ got a lot to say ♪♪♪

♪♪♪ I'm gonna
break it down, baby ♪♪♪

♪♪♪ And I bet you that
We're all the same. ♪♪♪

♪♪♪♪♪

‐ That was a hell of a
performance.

‐ Oh, you killed it.

‐ So, now what?

‐ Well, first off, we need to
find you a proper home.

One without devil dogs,
aggressive fireplaces,

strange noises, or any members
of my immediate family.

‐ Ah! Sounds dreamy.

‐ Could it have a
whirlpool tub?

‐ Jeez.

Clients, man!

♪♪♪ "Aye Aye Aye" reprise ♪♪♪