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Original subtitles

_

After this,

our current policy of containment may no longer be viable.

I need response plans from each of you

so that we can consider...

What's there to consider?

Are you seeing this?

We need to turn that city into a parking lot.

Put in your plan, General.

Now, let's take the next 48 hours to consider options

and then reconvene for a final vote.

- We need to do something. - Someone call the President.

Oh, my God.

Yeah.

And it would have been a lot worse if Major hadn't been there.

Uh, Liv, there's something else.

More than this?

You know how we've been looking for Beanpole Bob?

We found him.

Well, that's good, isn't it?

Liv?

So does the name Beanpole Bob mean anything to you?

Drug chemist for Mr. Boss. The Da Vinci of Utopium.

And according to Ravi, he's you.

Yes, that was me.

I was experimenting. Then one thing led to another,

and behold, Utopium.

You invented Utopium?

Did you make the batch that ended up at the Max Rager boat party?

I'm sorry.

I should've told you.

Should've told me that you were

responsible for turning me into a zombie!

That you were responsible for the very existence of zombies. You think?

Just please tell me you still have the formula.

What?

Why do you want that?

Ravi developed a cure,

but the Utopium from that batch is a key component.

Liv.

I was high 24/7 back then.

It's all a blur. I wish I could.

Great.

Got it.

Now I've got a body.

Thanks for nothing, Bob.

_

I can't believe I trusted a junkie.

- What was I thinking? - It's not your fault.

Believing in people isn't a character flaw.

Duplicity on the other hand...

Seriously, guys, you're killing me.

Just doing our job, Don E.

You have no idea how hard it is

to run a successful small business in a zombie economy.

I just rebranded.

Now that there's cops crawling all over the place, no one's buying.

Do you have to make everything so murder scene-y?

It is a murder scene.

Oh!

So this is where the magic happens?

Ravi's first time in a brothel. Message received.

Room belongs to a "Bunny La Fonda," real name unknown.

According to Candy, the victim asked for her specifically,

but no one has seen her for over an hour.

We put out an APB, no hits so far.

Body was found by a waitress, human named Jane Harland.

They took her to the kitchen to get her things,

then they'll bring her in for questioning.

Who's the victim?

Frank Chisel.

Private investigator, and a colossal pain in the ass.

It's so noir.

Clive, you'll be the perpetually annoyed cop

who's a thorn in Liv's side...

Not much of a stretch, really.

And I'll be the faithful assistant, loyal to a fault,

but forever destined to be taken for granted.

Also, not much of a stretch.

Careful what you wish for.

Have a seat, Ms. Harland.

This is our Medical Examiner, Liv Moore.

It's so dark in here.

We are sorry, bulb blew.

Power went out from the storm.

Rain's coming down harder than spent slugs.

Yup.

You told Officer Jenkins

that you were bringing a drink order to Bunny La Fonda's room

when you found the body, correct?

Who ordered the hooch, Bunny or the john?

Bunny did.

So the bandage on your finger, what happened?

When I saw the body, I dropped a glass and cut myself.

But, I swear, I didn't have anything to do with it.

That's all right.

We'll just need a blood sample to test against the blood found on the scene.

What about Bunny La Fonda? You know her real name?

Friends or family?

I haven't worked there that long.

Do you think Bunny...

did that to him?

Wipe your tears, kid.

In this town there'll be plenty more where they came from.

Still nothing on Bunny La Fonda's real name

or current whereabouts.

Sounds like she's going for the clean sneak.

So would I if I had just buried an ice pick in a man's skull.

There's a million stories in the zombie city.

Dollars to donuts, this one ends with us sending Bunny to the big house.

Babineaux.

We'll be right there.

Bunny's dead.

Make that a million and one.

_

Ice pick?

Same as Chisel.

The freezer thermometer logs fluctuations in temperature.

The kitchen closed at 9:00 last night,

but the freezer door was open for a few minutes around 11:00.

That's long enough to drag a body inside.

That means Bunny was likely killed about an hour before Chisel died.

And an hour before Jane said Bunny ordered those drinks.

Jane Harland lied to us.

Poured us a tall glass of crocodile tears and we dipped our bills.

I sent a couple of unis to her address, but...

She's in the wind.

And Bunny ain't talking.

Corpses are funny that way.

Uh,

there's a lot we can deduce from a body.

That's literally our job.

My job is piecing together who popped this pro-skirt and why.

Yeah, mine too.

Mmm, I also aim to help solve murders.

What are you up to, Jane?

What's your connection with Bunny and Chisel?

What kind of flim-flam are you mixed up in

that you had to put them both to sleep last night?

Tag her and bag her, Doc.

You know, I was kidding about the whole

"taken for granted assistant" thing.

Oh, babe, I'm so sorry.

Did you know her that well?

Not really, but you know.

Why the long face, Don E?

Bunny got killed.

Oh, Bunny.

She was so skilled.

Right?

It's just such a hassle right now.

A hassle?

Just not a huge hassle, we'll just replace her.

But we're rebranding and launching karaoke night.

Dude, that's the rainy day fund.

You been out there, Don E?

It is a rainy day.

Damn! Bunny.

Do we know who done it?

The cops are asking a lot of questions about Jane Harland.

The waitress. She's their suspect?

- Mmm-hmm. - Huh!

Didn't see that coming.

You never do.

You got lost in that innocent face and those big shining eyes

pleading for you to be her white knight,

and lift her out of her nightmare.

And before you know it she slipped an ice pick in your spine.

Casual as putting a pen back in the holder at the bank.

Wait, where are you going? Darce?

What's her problem?

That dame's got you dizzy, Don E.

That's what dames do.

But I'll tell you something,

they can't break your heart...

if you never let them near it in the first place.

It's 8:00 in the morning.

Bunny La Fonda, mid 20s, 5'4", 110 pounds.

Time of death, about 11:00 p.m.

It was a hard rain that night.

The kind that turns street into rivers.

It rained so hard,

the house cats almost felt bad for the rats in the alley.

Hmm, almost.

Is this a bad time?

Uh, Liv's not here at the moment.

That's probably for the best.

I assume she mentioned my...

history with Utopium?

It came up.

She told me about your cure.

I'm sorry I can't remember what went into the batch

that ended up at that boat party.

But between what you know...

and whatever I can remember,

maybe we can try...

and piece it back together.

I wanted to write a symphony.

A crescendo of MDA,

mephedrone, psilocybin, TC-B...

TC-B?

It's easy to miss it if you're not looking for it.

So how do you develop a cure

without knowing exactly how the initial chemical reaction was catalyzed?

I was injecting my test rats with concentrated Max Rager.

Their prefrontal cortex's lit up.

Really? Max Rager?

They took that off the market though, didn't they?

They did. Uh, Fillmore-Graves bought the company.

They still have a stockpile, and...

You know, I know a guy who works there.

Lucky for you.

Indeed.

All I'm saying is, your father was pretty helpful.

I learned a lot about reworking the cure.

Could be he's working an angle.

Uh, I suppose,

but you worked hard to build a relationship with Martin,

are you sure you're ready to... give up?

Just think about it.

Or you could not think about it,

and take a vacation to a little place called... Margaritaville.

Who's in?

Oh, come on.

I packed up my office today, my entire career,

all that work, all that effort,

they fit into one file box.

Look, I need to blow off some steam

like we used to in college after finals.

Sorry, sister, I got a double murderer to track down.

Fine, more margs for me.

How hard can it be?

They're dying kids.

That has to be one of the top five easiest types of kidnapping.

Not when they know their Freylich brains are zombie cures.

Some of them are taking precautions.

So up your game.

Get more guns, more guys.

Get one of those net traps that the Ewoks used.

We're all closed up, anything else?

Ma'am.

- Who's your friend? - None of your business.

Speaking of business,

go get what you need, get back over the wall and nab me some more kids.

I've got work to finish. All of you, out.

After you.

Hi, I'm Candy.

Why, Jane Harland.

What brings you by at this hour?

That's my business.

Which makes it none of yours.

_

- Cute gun. - You think I won't use it?

I'm pretty sure you will.

You killed two people already, what's one more?

What I can't help but wonder though is...

why return to the scene of your crimes?

Wouldn't you like to know?

Well, yeah, that's why I asked.

Just tell me why you killed them.

The PI, whatever,

but why'd you have to do Bunny like that?

Let's say I saw an opportunity.

Sure. Been there.

Hmm, that's better.

Now, let's try this again.

What are you doing here?

What'd you do that for?

It's always the pretty ones.

Yeah.

Well, I guess I'm glad you came back.

Who are you, Jane?

And what are you up to?

We have anything around here to crack open a skull?

Still no word from the joint chiefs?

No. Last time I checked they're formulating a response,

they'll notify us, etcetera.

Great.

Please tell me this has nothing to do with zombie rampages or...

Just boring stuff.

Yeah. Okay, bring it on.

A few of our security scanners haven't

been logging key card ID's properly.

Possible we might need an upgrade.

With any luck we'll get the bugs worked out of the key card system

right before they bomb us back to the Stone Age.

What are you doing back here? It's nine o'clock.

Go home. Get some sleep.

I'll sleep when I'm dead.

You're already dead.

We're all already dead, Clive. We just don't know it yet.

Cool.

Well, I've got Jane's apartment staked out,

we're talking to anyone who might know where she's hiding,

and there's nothing more that we can do tonight.

Except search Chisel's office.

It might tell us why he was looking for Bunny,

or what Jane had to do with either of them.

That's why I filed for a warrant.

Always by the book, Babineaux. You clear many cases that way?

Uh, almost all of them, as you know.

In my book "almost" doesn't cut it.

We're not talking about your book.

We'll pick it back up tomorrow,

by the book, my book.

Understand?

Who understands this crazy world?

Good. I'll see you in the morning.

He's right.

The smart thing to do is go home and wait for the warrant.

But no one ever accused me of being all that smart.

Looking for this?

The classic lamp-reveal.

You set this up just for me?

The only way I'd do anything for you is in your dreams, blondie.

Does that mean that you're not gonna share

whatever you found in that book?

All that's in here is Chisel's client list.

What's that to you?

Color me curious what sort of trouble Bunny'd got her self into.

- She was a valued employee. - She was a hooker.

Who brought such joy to so many. What's more valuable than that?

I'm guessing to you, just about anything else.

Freeze! Get your hands up!

Ms. Moore?

Keep your bracelets on your belts, kids.

This is a dead man's office,

I'm sure he wouldn't mind us having a look around.

To be continued.

I'm counting on it.

You should...

probably go, too.

Sorry.

Thought everyone had gone home for the night.

Almost. Don't mind me.

You new here?

- Newish. - Hmm.

- Crawford. - Major. Nice to meet you.

Well, I'm off. Don't work too hard.

Why do you have two key cards?

What?

One on your cart, and one on your belt?

I only get one and I run the place.

Uh...

- Something wrong? - No.

You didn't sell that so well, Crawford.

You better come with me.

What? Why?

Because I asked you a simple question and you broke out a cold sweat.

I'd just like you to come with me and answer a few questions.

_

You broke into Chisel's office after I explicitly told you not to?

No one would've been wise if Blaine hadn't shown up.

What was he up to? That's the real question.

Well, did you get an answer?

The same usual smarmy evasiveness.

So that's no answer.

You're doing a lot of hand wringing over diddly-squat, Lieutenant.

My hands have a right to be wrung.

You committed multiple felonies while I was asleep.

Son of a bitch! His hands!

Blaine was doing the same thing Jane was.

Yeah, I remember.

You sure it was exactly the same thing?

Sure as eggs is eggs.

That's what was different.

Blaine's eaten Jane Harland's brain.

Tough to do without killing her.

Okay.

Let's bring him in.

You can't smoke in here.

What are you gonna do? Arrest me for smoking?

Yes.

We go by the book around here.

Of course you do. So what's the charge this time?

The murder of Jane Harland.

Jane was murdered?

Cut the act, you grifter. You're not fooling anyone.

That'd be a first.

Why would I murder some waitress? I barely knew the girl.

What about Bunny?

- You knew her. - Suppose I did.

Suppose you tell us why Jane would wanna kill her?

Suppose I've been wondering that same thing myself.

You show me yours, I'll show you mine.

Suppose you spill your guts before I spill 'em for you.

Suppose you both give it a rest.

Where'd you even find Jane's body anyway?

We didn't.

I see.

Is that gonna make it tough to pin her murder on me?

I think you'll find me up to the task.

I get it.

My father hired you to find me.

A cure? Are you serious?

No, I'm working.

Bring it here.

You had a vision.

Shake it up and pour it out, DeBeers.

I did have a vision.

Of a world where a guy like me can get a fair shake.

I'll give you a fair shake.

- Liv! - That was just a love tap.

You want the real thing, you two-bit heel?

Tell us what you really saw.

Nothing but stars now.

Maybe a lawsuit to go with them.

Anything else for tonight?

You're free to go.

It's almost too easy, sometimes.

He had it coming.

Sure, he might have a prison sentence coming, too,

but you had to go sap-happy.

You might have just blown our shot.

Here, just go home, eat a brain tube.

You don't need to be on Chisel's brain anymore.

You know, and until you get him out of your system...

you're off the case.

I'll get Chisel out of my system.

As soon as I get some answers.

Crawford Davis. Civilian.

Hired by Enzo right before we put him away.

What'd we get on the key cards?

One clean, the other stolen,

re-programmed to register blank ID at any point of entry.

Do we know where he used it?

Storage warehouse. Twelve entries, all in the last two days.

- What did he want from there? - Max Rager.

Had a case hidden in his cart.

Enzo hires this guy, gives him a doctored key card,

six weeks later he starts stealing Max Rager.

Maybe Enzo's recruiting outside of Fillmore-Graves, reorganizing...

Enzo's a lackey, not a strategist.

And Justin's dead.

Someone else must be pulling the strings.

Punch a hole in that wall.

Incroyable!

Here's to the zombie cortex stimulating properties of Max Rager.

All the pieces of our plan are finally in place.

Our zombie foot soldiers can now obey our commands.

The US delegates we scratched are awaiting instruction.

Are your people prepping for exit?

The team's in place and coyote routes are good to go.

Good.

Soon we set the new world order in motion.

And zombies just love hot sauce, don't we?

So, of course we have some you can borrow.

Hi, Grandma.

Hey, kiddo. You finish all your homework?

Yup. What is all that?

Oh, the usual.

Fate of the world, etcetera.

What are you watching?

Hi Zombie.

It's this show about a zombie family in Seattle

who moves next door to humans.

There is such a thing?

Scoot over.

Yeah. Yes, I am...

Hmm.

So, what? They're putting hot sauce on birthday cake?

They put hot sauce on everything.

Sounds like your grandfather.

Darcy, come on. This is like the tenth message I have left.

Just tell me what I did wrong

so I can apologize or whatever, would you?

Barkeep, whiskey sour. Hold the sour.

We're one zombie hooker short, Candy.

Shouldn't you be in the back on your back?

Darcy called on the bar line.

What'd she say?

To stop calling her.

So, does the name "Martel" mean anything to you?

No.

I saw it on an invoice at Chisel's office,

and I just now realized why it sounded familiar.

Jacob Martel, bought one of our black market cures...

- Yeah. - I think Chisel

was trying to deliver it to Bunny,

and I think Jane Harland killed her for it.

A cure? So where is it?

Right where Jane came looking for it.

Here. Right under our noses.

Alyssa Martel, Bunny La Fonda's real name.

Missing since 2016. Father, Jacob Martel.

Did I tell you that I've always wanted...

to be a paleontologist when I grew up?

I bet that's a hard job to get fired from.

You don't find any dinosaur bones, you're just, like,

"Nope. No dinosaurs died here."

Jacob Martel has been paying Chisel some serious scratch for months.

Boom! Case closed. All right, let's go dancing.

Bunny's father hired Chisel to find his daughter.

Chisel tracked her to Don E Be Goodz.

But how does Jane fit in?

What's her motive?

♪ Maybe the answers ♪ ♪ Are on the dance floor ♪

♪ The dance floor ♪

BFF code says you can't let me drink alone two nights in a row.

Grab your coat, let's go!

Go to your room, I'll meet you there.

That's it! Bunny's dad bought her a cure.

But Jane catches the scent, she bumps off Bunny,

takes her place, kills Chisel when he shows up,

and makes off with the cure.

So, now is the case closed?

Jane knows that the fuzz'll pat her down when she's brought in,

so she stashes the cure at the bar.

She goes back for it, Blaine's there. He puts her on the spot,

Jane clams up, Blaine croaks her, eats her brain.

That does sound very Blaine.

What if he hasn't found it yet?

We aren't going dancing, aren't we?

We're going to Don E Be Goodz.

Goodz enough!

_

Dude, we already looked everywhere,

I get why you think Jane stashed it here, but it's not here.

It has to be.

Where did you stash the cure, Jane?

You only had a couple of minutes before the flatfoot brigade showed up.

Okay.

What song says, "Everything sucks, but I'm over it",

but I'm still kind of pissed"?

Bunny's room? No, too much heat.

The bathrooms.

Too much traffic.

Oh, tequila. Neat.

Salt and lime?

What am I, 16?

The kitchen.

To the kitchen.

I'll make less of a rumpus alone.

Yeah.

Keep it going for Mel. Mel.

All right, up next is Peyton.

Peyton?

Oh, wow! It's that Peyton.

Uh, please welcome to the karaoke stage

your former acting mayor, uh...

Shut up, song wench!

Okay, this one's for you, Seattle.

But mostly for me.

♪ I got this feeling on the summer day when you were gone ♪

♪ I crashed my car into a bridge ♪

♪ I don't care, I love it ♪

♪ I don't care... ♪

You're a clever girl, Jane.

You know that cure is worth enough on the open market to kill for it.

So where do you squirrel it away?

You again.

Surprised?

To find you lurking in the shadows? Hardly.

What can I say?

I saw you heading this way, my curiosity was piqued.

Here's hoping that curiosity has the same effect on you

as on the proverbial cat.

Why so hateful, Moore?

How long you got?

For you? All night.

Keep it in your pants, kitten.

You got me all wrong.

"All wrong" is exactly what you are.

Well,

if the shoe fits...

I was hoping you'd do that.

♪ I don't care, I love it ♪

♪ I don't care, I love it ♪

♪ I don't care ♪

Whatever.

Peyton Charles, everyone.

You suck as mayor, and as a singer.

What the... man?

Seriously, on karaoke night?

You throw like a girl.

You're damn right I do.

How many lives you think I'd save if I ended yours right now?

You're no killer.

I'm warming to the idea.

Try me, palooka.

I'll give you something to cry about.

There's two of us.

Only one of you.

Check your math, big man.

I got your message.

Thanks.

You okay?

I'm fine.

And I'll bet you a Buffalo nickel to a Canadian dime

that's Jane's blood.

Lucky we already have a sample of hers to test it against.

You're going down, blondie.

Once and for all.

Crybaby killed her. I saw the whole thing.

I'll make a full statement as soon as I talk to my lawyer.

- Wait? What? - Sorry, Crybaby.

Can't go around killing people and expect to get away with it.

What about this one, sir?

Witnesses say she started the bar fight.

Just cut her loose.

All those in favor of launching Operation Seattle Salvation?

And opposed?

Five for. Five against.

You're the tie-breaker, Chairwoman.

Zombies, until recently were the stuff of fiction.

Now they are a reality.

But not the monsters that we once imagined.

Not monsters?

You've seen the footage.

They have the capacity to become monsters, yes.

But does that make them any different from any of us?

Because any one of us could have been a zombie.

Even you, Glenn.

And the only way I'd know

is if I saw you putting hot sauce in your coffee.

I cannot, in good conscience,

support the killing of innocent people

for fear of what they might become.

And so the nays have it,

and I will advise the President of our decision.

Thank you, all.

_

All I'm saying is next time you and Peyton get into a bar fight,

- I'd like to be there. - We did all right without you.

Oh, I know. I don't need to participate, I just wanna watch.

Are we absolutely sure Blaine didn't already find the syringe?

No, we searched him, searched the bar, came up empty on both.

He wouldn't have followed me into the kitchen if he already had it.

Oh, a trench coat for every day of the week.

Got to admire his commitment.

I saw him put the cure into his coat.

But if it wasn't in the one he was wearing when we found the body,

and it wasn't at the bar...

Bonewhistle's Dry Cleaners. Where have I seen that before?

In the mirror.

At the crime scene. In, in the frame with the pictures.

There was a dry cleaners ticket.

Chisel couldn't risk bringing something

as valuable as the cure into the bar,

so he put the cure in his coat, dropped his coat at the cleaners...

Then brought Bunny the ticket so she could pick up the cure herself.

We got to get to that ticket before Blaine figures it out.

What's the occasion?

Darcy agreed to hear me out.

And I have no idea what I'm gonna say.

And how do I fix this? I don't even know what I did wrong.

It's not rocket science.

Knowing you, I'm sure she had a legitimate reason to be pissed.

Start by admitting that.

You should be able to figure out the rest.

Huh. That actually makes sense.

Hmm. Then my work here is done.

Good luck, Don E.

Uh, great. What now?

Hoping to find the dry cleaning slip?

Looks like someone beat us to it.

Looks like someone beat you.

Nice work. How did it feel?

Like Christmas in July.

Call the cleaners, get them to hold Chisel's coat until we get there.

Turn around.

- You all set? - You bet.

Where we heading?

Corvallis, Oregon.

Perfect.

Hey.

I'm really sorry.

Okay. For what?

Okay, I... I, I, don't know.

But I'm sorry for whatever it was.

Okay, I'm sorry, too.

It's just that when Bunny died

all you cared about was finding a replacement.

And it made me wonder if you'd act the same way when...

You know.

No. No.

It's not...

that I didn't care...

It's, it's just a lot of people in my life have died.

But, Darcy, I'll never be able to replace you...

because I love you.

Really?

Darcy, uh...

Bennet.

Darcy Bennet...

Will you marry me?

Screw it. Yeah, why not?

Candy? The trivia genie slash cosmetologist slash zombie madam?

Clive said the woman who picked up

Chisel's coat matched her description.

Checked her apartment, she's gone.

Looks like a clean getaway.

Oh. Another day, another cure lost.

How's the hangover, babe?

Hmm.

It's a fitting end to my career as a mayor.

I barely remember doing anything, all I'm left with is the pain.

Oh, I feel like a shower hook is stabbing into my brain.

Oh, too soon?

Yeah.

Too soon for what?

Some guy at Fillmore-Graves impaled himself on a shower hook.

What?

We caught him using a doctored key card

to steal Max Rager, so he killed himself.

Oh, my God. It seems a bit extreme.

Tell me about it.

- What's up? - In the lab

I told your father about Max Rager's effects on the zombie rats.

He had a lot of questions.

So, what? You think that he got some wing-nut

to infiltrate Fillmore-Graves and steal Max Rager?

Maybe he was working an angle after all.

I know you've gotten close, but given his track record...

There is one door at his house that's heavily bolted.

Maybe there's something behind it he doesn't want anyone to see.

He's got an NA meeting tonight.

Liv.

It's Utopium, all right.

January 21st, 2013.

Oh! Fall 2014.

October 3rd,

October 6th, October 14.

One of these has to be the tainted batch.

Uh... Grab them. Let's go!

Hello?

This is US Army General Glenn Mills.

I believe we have an agenda in common.

And I think we can be of use to each other in achieving it.

I'm listening.

Synced and corrected by hawken45 for www.addic7ed.com

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