All language subtitles for Only.Murders.in.the.Building.S03E04.720p.WEB.x265-MiNX

How you doing, Charlie?

- Oh, my nerves couldn't
take eight shows a week.

- It's okay to be relieved
that the show is over.

Means more time for us.

- Your aunt sold the apartment?

- I have to be
out in four weeks.

Bloody Mabel Mora.

There is nothing more tantalizing
than an unhinged, murderous beauty.

I'm re-imagining Death Rattle
in the most Oliver Putnam way.

Death Rattle Dazzle!

A Death Rattle musical!

As we look at the cast, we are
faced with an unsettling truth.

Any one of them
could be the killer.

- You're not
supposed to be here.

- There was someone
in his dressing room.

The night that Ben died,

he was holding someone
else's handkerchief.

We need to find out who in
the cast doesn't have theirs.

That could be our killer!
- Kimber...

I'm so sorry I made
everything messy between us.

I fucked up.

But I'm gonna make it right.

- I really wanted to
give you my hanky,

but I must have thrown it away.

New York.

It's not exactly
famous for self-care.

In this city, we push, we shove,

we occasionally
urinate on one another.

But do we spend enough
time loving ourselves?

Maybe not.
- This is the whole apartment?

I know. Feels like a palace.

460 square feet all to yourself.

But you can create a sanctuary.

When I created my sanctuary,

I invested in fluffy towels,

a fleet of soy candles,

and a jade egg that is
currently nestled in my privates.

It's about creating a safe space.
- And the rent?

- 4,800 a month. Plus
utilities. And maintenance fees.

Also, you'll probably
wanna slip the angry guy

who sleeps on the front steps
a fiver anytime you come home,

just to keep the peace.

But, all in all, it is a steal.

Last year, when I stepped
down from my podcast

after a difficult moment
with a coworker...

Poppy, you fucking bitch!

- Sorry. Edit that out.
- Thank you.

Don't murder someone and
try to frame me for it, that's...

Okay, I was kidding.
I-I'm... I am just kidding.

Okay, anyway.

Some people said I was canceled.

Well, if getting canceled means

spending a year learning to live
in alignment with your dharma,

then yes.

Call me canceled.

I'm at peace.

Because during that time,

I cultivated
something important.

My self-care rituals.

- So, what do you do, Ms. Mora?

I-I'm just trying to figure
out how you'd use the space.

Perhaps it's a love nest
to share with a partner.

Or a home office to launch
your dream business.

Or maybe you just wanna
throw fabulous dinner parties.

- I'm not really the
dinner party type.

Hm. Well, you must
have something you love.

Everybody does.

- Hm.
- Maybe your ritual is journaling.

Or a walk in the woods.

For me, I start every
day bathing in mud

from the healing soil
of the Pacific Palisades.

- So, I'm not trying to pressure you,
but there's a lot of heat on this one.

So if you want it, I'd start
gathering your paperwork.

You know, pay
stubs, tax returns,

maybe a letter from
your current landlord.

- I'm pretty sure I definitely
have all those things.

For sure.

Rituals ground us,

offering calm in
a world of chaos.

But love a ritual too much,

and it can become an obsession.

And before we know it,

the ritual that once healed
us has become our undoing.

So! You ready to move on this?

Totally.

Oh.

No, this one's not me.

- They're so peaceful.
- Mm-hm.

- And so many.
Sixty-two, did you say?

- That's the sweet spot.

Sixty-one, you wonder
if you're one fish short

and 63, you're
a crazy fish lady.

Is it too much?

- Too much fish?

- Too much everything.

Me moving in, my aquarium,

my trampoline,
my exercise balls.

You know I like to
roll from room to room.

You don't feel suffocated?

- No, ma'am!
- Okay.

Wide-open airways!

Lungs like a baby!

Joy, this is your space now.

- Oh, Charlie! I
can't believe it!

Oh God!

Thirty-five years ago, you
sat in my makeup chair,

and I thought to myself,

"This man dies alone."

And now, look at us.

Shacking up.

It's a dream come true! Mwah!

Let's celebrate. Wanna
go to the fish store?

- Oh, uh, well, besides having
already been there twice today,

I-I have to rehearse.

Oliver is all over me
about this patter song.

- Patter song?
- Well, a patter song

is a speed-singing,
uh, information dump

they always give to
the guy who can't sing.

- Uh-huh.
- It's basically a rap.

I mean, do I look like
a guy who can rap?

- Well, I wouldn't say that's
what your look screams,

if I'm honest, but I've
seen you do hard things.

How about Brazzos, season four?

When your character had
to bust the drug dealers

at the roller skating
rink, and you were like,

"I can't do a
backward grapevine!"

Until you did!

- Set medic said he never saw
a femur snap in half like that.

- That's not the point.

Charlie, you are a star.

And you didn't look bad
in those roller shorts either,

huh?

Oh, look at me.
Oh, getting all hot!

I'm gonna go cool
off at the fish store.

- You gonna buy more fish?
- I'm just gonna browse.

But probably, definitely yes.

We have a few minutes
before rehearsal,

AKA a murderer
walking into this room.

Let's talk case.
- If I may, a life update.

Oliver Putnam, long considered

New York's most
un-land-able bachelor, is in love.

That's right.

This merchandise
off the market, bruh.

Ah! Loretta.

Whom you have yet to ask out.

- Well, 'cause I'm
workshopping the perfect date.

I mean, if I'm going to break my own
rule and date one of the cast members,

I have to do it with flair.

Uh, current vision,

lunch, the Russian Tea Room.

Or is that too Putin-y?

- Now we've gotten
exactly nowhere

on figuring out who pushed
Ben down the elevator shaft.

So, I say we go back.

Go to the theater,

figure out if Ben's collapsing
on stage was due to poison.

- I think...

- Is this gonna be about
the case or Loretta?

- Loretta.
- Then, zip it.

So if it was poison,

we actually have a decent
suspect to look at. Kimber.

- Oh, Kimber!

I love it. That's so good.

Quick question. Does
it have to be Kimber?

She's one of the few cast
members who can actually sing.

- I take offense to that.

- That was my intention.

- I'm working on
my vibrato. Listen.

Ah!

- Thank you, Ms. Merman.

Oh, a-and the thing about
Kimber, I just found out that she has

two million Tik Tokkee people.

- Followers. I know, but...
- Which is great press for our show.

Now our stage manager,
on the other hand,

is a world-class grump

who has only 12 followers.
Can we look in that direction?

- Kimber was the
only cast member

that didn't give
Charles a hanky.

So she could have attempted
to poison him at the theater.

And when that didn't work, she pushed
him down the elevator shaft. Make sense?

- Hey! I just had an idea!
- Really?

- What if we cut the patter
song, and I just do a look?

- Oh, dear lord.
- Another detail on Kimber.

In the dressing
room footage I saw,

it sounded like Ben
was having a lover's spat

right before he
collapsed on stage,

which would explain why he
apologized to Kimber at the party

for making things messy.

We have to find out if
they were secretly dating.

- Do you know who
else is secretly dating?

- Yes. You and Loretta.
And by the way, you're not.

- Yet.
- Whatever.

Your TikTok star has
something the murderer needed.

A way to deliver the poison.

Y'all, you are probably
asking yourself,

"Why does Ben Glenroy, CoBro,
look like a 50-year-old baby?"

He's literally aging backwards,
and I will tell you why.

Because he uses
my anti-aging serum.

That's right, it's anti-aging, it's
serum, and you guys can have it, too.

Are you guys stalking my serum?

- Oh! Uh, uh, yes, because
we are all anti-aging.

- Yes.
- Oh.

If you want, I can
put you on a waitlist,

but ever since Ben signed
on as unofficial spokesperson,

I can't keep it in stock.

- People, this is rehearsal
time. Let's keep it on topic.

Yes, right.

Well, if everyone's
here, let's kick it off

with Charles' patter song.

- Wait. Wait, wait, what?

In front of... In
front of everybody?

- So, Charles, six
weeks from now,

you'll be performing
this in front of thousands,

so you might as well
get used to the eyeballs.

Setting the scene.
You, the Constable,

find yourself at the end
of your metaphorical rope,

clinging to sanity

as you are interrogating

three improbable suspects.

Babies! Yes!

But, which of the
Pickwick Triplets did it?

- This one's a-a little tricky...
- Tom, bring us in, please. Thanks.

- That feels faster than it was
yesterday. Has it always been that fast?

- Always been
that fast, Charles.

- Take it down
just a little bit.

Oh, Mabel, y-you don't have to be here
because this is just boring play stuff.

- Nope. Something is
telling me I can't miss this.

- May I step out to call my therapist?
- Yes, of course, you can.

- I-I-I don't know
what happened.

M-My mind just, uh, went blank,

and I-I-I crossed over
into this other realm.

Am I... Am I dead?

Am I-I on drugs? Am
I dead and on drugs?

- Bro, you went
to the White Room.

- The what room?

- White Room.
It's an actor thing.

- A-A stage thing.

In TV, if you screw up,
you get another take.

In theater, there's no net.

You blank out, that's it.

You're a polar bear in a
global warming documentary,

hanging onto a tiny piece of
ice in the middle of the sea,

waiting to die.

Happened to me in 2014.

I was doing a production of
As You Like It in Wilmington.

I'll never know exactly
what I did on that stage, but...

there are now pictures of
my penis on the internet,

and I can only assume
that's how they got there.

- Okay, well, that's, uh...
H-How do I stay out of it?

- Look, I've dealt with anxiety.

Once I went to the White
Room and woke up two days later

at a Papa John's in
Yonkers. It's scary.

The trick is to find
your happy place.

- Okay, everyone. After
what we just witnessed,

we need to take five.

Maybe years.

- Oliver?

I wanna apologize
for lying to you earlier.

When I asked to step
out to call my therapist.

I don't actually
have a therapist.

Just my cousin Moses
Morris from State Farm,

who I call when things go wrong.

He helps me.
- Howard, not now.

- So, I know that we're just recovering
from what just happened, and frankly,

I'm having a hard time making
eye contact with you, Charles.

- What did I do up here?

- Too soon!
- Not ready.

But, we have to find the serum
that Ben used on opening night

and test it for poison. Do
you think it's still in the theater?

- Getting into the
theater is a whole thing.

You know, Howard has a key,

and if he's not in the right
mood, he won't let us in.

- He works for you, right?

- Well, it's a complicated
relationship. Many layers.

- Heard you referencing
a layered relationship.

I assume you're
speaking about me.

- Howard! How would you feel

about letting us in the theater?

- Are you investigating?
Because if you are, I need to know.

As the eyes and ears
of this production...

- It's nothing. We just left...

a sweater.

You like sweaters, right?

- Girl, you know
I like sweaters.

- It was actually
one of my sweaters.

- Let me guess.

A fluffy number?

Vaguely shapeless?

Splashes of yellow and orange
that have no business working,

but, somehow, they work.
My God, do they work!

Jesus H. Christ, I
love your sweaters!

Go on, I'm listening.

- Well, then you wouldn't want
one stuck in the theater, would you?

I mean, think of the moths.

- Moths, moths.
- Just burrowing in the fabric,

chewing holes.

Oh, the whole structure of
the sweater just falls apart...

- No, no, stop! Stop, Mabel! No.

I'll let you in, okay?

Thank you.

- Let's get that sweater.

Okay.

You're a genius. Absolutely.

And then Jonathan told me I
need to find my "happy place."

A happy place!

Do I even have one of those?

I-I don't know, Joy.
I'm all turned around!

- Aw, you're
probably just hungry.

Why don't you take that stress

and channel it into one
of your gorgeous omelets?

That's your happy place.

And the way you make them looks
like they should be on the cover of

Breakfast Magazine...

Which does not exist.

Joy! I did it!

I did the song!

- What?

- I know the trick now.

All I have to do is
make an omelet.

- Huh?

- Yeah! For years, I
made omelets to relax,

and my brain associates
that with comfort.

I know I'm not mentally healthy,

but that's okay because
I can sing the song.

- Charlie, this is no bueno.

The omelet was a
one-time stress release.

You thinking you
need the omelet,

that's a hard no. Hard
no! That is a crutch.

- Yeah, it's a crutch!
That's good, right?

- Look at me, lover.

You have me now.

I'm the omelet.

Say it.
- You're the omelet.

- I'm gonna look
out for you, Charlie.

Just like I did
with Ben Glenroy.

He knew if he touched one
hair on your gorgeous little head,

he was gonna
have to deal with me.

Now, let's go to bed.

I've been reading the Kama Sutra

and we haven't
done the antelope yet.

- Okay, I'm just gonna make one more ome...
- Charlie.

The antelope.

Oh God!

Smells like Jerry
Orbach's laundry basket.

Which I once had
a nap in. Long story.

- What is all this?
- Oh, just opening night gifts.

They've all just been
sitting here, you know?

Like flowers and pastries,
open bottles of wine.

It's like a horror movie.

Which is something that I
could take Loretta to on our date!

But should I make it scary?

A-A-Are dates fun when
everyone's panic sweating?

- For the love of
God, Oliver, focus.

- Oh, sorry.
- Here we go.

- What the hell
are you doing here?

- Sorry if I was rude before.

I just didn't know you
guys were coming.

Does anyone
want nettle leaf tea?

It makes your hair
grow fast as fuck.

- Do you... live here?

- No, this is just where
I run my beauty empire.

Ooh! Don't tell
Howard I copied his key.

I will give you some of my
proprietary collagen powder.

Not for free.
Twenty percent off?

- Uh, it-it-it's
quite alright. Um...

Unless, can it do
anything about my jowls?

- I wanna be firmer.
- Oh, yeah.

Oh!

Girl, you can't stop thinking
about my serum, can you?

Uh, y-yeah.

I mean, who wouldn't be obsessed

with Ben's favorite
skin product?

- Right. He did
use it religiously.

- Even on opening night?
- Of course.

- And the bottle that he used,

would that... be this one?

Guys?

You here?

Warning, I smell like eggs.

- Is that Charles?
- Uh...

You know, he experiences
these little mini-strokes.

It's nothing to be alarmed by.

- We'll just be right back.
- Yeah.

- I didn't know Kimber was here.
- Neither did we.

- Guys. We've
gotta get her talking.

Can I trust you?

Do you even know how
to talk to someone my age?

- I definitely don't, and you don't
count because you have old lady energy.

- Oh, she really does. 72 is
where I'd put her. Maybe 75.

- That's flattering,
but I'll do this part.

I can just girl-talk.

- Can you?
- Yeah.

I don't think so.

- Really, just go hunt around
Ben's dressing room for clues.

- But he keeps his dressing room locked.
- Ah, don't worry.

I brought my jimmy keys.
See? I can be helpful.

- You guys okay out here?

- Hey, mama!
- Yeah, we're like, uh, yass and work

and slay and yass

over here, like, yass.

- Yass, queens!

- Mama? Mm.

You're gonna love this.
Technically, it is dog food,

but my kibble is
100% human-grade.

Barley, chia seed, and essence
of sod. And a bunch of other shit.

It also helps with heartworm.
- Thanks.

- Do you need to get that?

- No, it's okay.

So, you manage all this?

Businesses, TikTok,
an acting career?

You know how it is.

Being our age in New York?

I mean, you have to hustle
if you wanna make it here.

- Right.

Well, it isn't... that must
be hard, juggling everything.

And a boyfriend.

- Who said anything
about a boyfriend?

- Oh, there were... rumors.

You and Ben.

A show-mance?

- You know, as I go on hour three of
watching you struggle with this lock,

it occurs to me that we
should run the patter song.

- Don't need to. I'm good.

- You've never once been good.
- I said I'm good.

- Well.

Ugh, Jesus.

- We're in a dead man's dressing
room filled with dead flowers.

Doesn't get worse than this.

- Oh, actually, it does.

- So, like everyone else, you
assumed I was sleeping with Ben?

It's okay.

It's all part of being the
young woman on the show.

The ingénue. Everyone thinks
that you're out to bed the star.

And in a way, I was.

- I'm confused.

- It wasn't sex that I wanted.
It was an endorsement.

One stupid post from Ben

about how he couldn't
live without my serum.

I even wrote him the copy.

"I might be CoBro in the
movies, but in real life,

I don't wanna walk
around with snake skin."

- Yeah, that could
use some work.

- It was a first pass.

The point is he promised
that he'd help me,

and h-he made this whole thing about
empowering female entrepreneurs.

Then, he backed
out at the last minute.

Which is why I felt fine selling
his opening night gift on eBay.

- The hanky.
- I got a few hundred bucks for it,

but...

now I feel guilty about
giving away the only thing

that I'll ever have from him.

You know, Ben wasn't
easy, but he could be sweet.

He was hard on himself.

Oh, my God, you should
have seen him on opening night.

H-He was panicking about
this red mark on his face.

- Red mark? How did he get it?

- I don't know. But he called in
someone else to help him cover it up.

Meanwhile, I am
drowning in this serum

that I can't sell
to save my life.

Granted, it is just Vaseline
mixed with club soda,

but I put it in a
really cute bottle.

- Kimber, this is
really important.

Who was in Ben's
dressing room with him?

- I have no idea.
But, whoever it was

was really talented
because when he came out,

the red mark was gone.

- Uh, hold that thought.

Holy shit.

- Okay, whose lipstick is this?

- I would imagine it
belongs to our killer.

- I have a theory.
- Yeah?

- Goldie the wardrobe lady!
- Why do you say that?

- 'Cause she's
utterly replaceable.

It won't affect our show
one way or another

if Goldie the wardrobe
lady goes to jail.

The key here is
to find a murderer

that won't cost me the Tony.

- Great. That was a real help.

- Apologies, I have to go home.

Joy keeps texting
me photos of piranha,

and I'm slightly scared she
bought one for our fish tank.

- You've got this handled, Mabel?
- What?

Sure. I've got all of this.

Can we make this quick?

- Mabel.

I hug now.
- I don't.

Nice transformation.
I read about it.

Your nightly mud bath?

- Did I say that?
God, I am a hoot.

You know, it's amazing the
amount of steaming horseshit

you can feed the American
public if you tell them it's organic.

- So, all of that was fake?

Your year of
reading and learning

and "getting serious
about breathwork"?

- I did a lot of it.

I went on a silent retreat.

At one point, I
squatted over a mirror

and celebrated my vulva.

But I think I've put my time in.

I figure two more
weeks in these tunics,

and I can get back to
doing what I really love.

- Which is...

- Same as you. Murder.

Sit! Let me make you some tea.

There's something I
wanna talk to you about.

Oh, come on. What
else have you got to do?

- Sorry, we're late. Our
cats were having a play date.

- Ah.
- You'll be happy to know

Sevelyn hit it off with Chopin.

It was a little
awkward at first, but...

- Hard to oversell just how
disinterested I am in this story.

Okay, let's get started.

Charles, I cannot wait to see
your newly flawless patter song.

- Whoa!
- Tom, if you will.

- Here we go.
- Okay.

- And Charles! Remember,
these babies are homicidal.

Sing.
- Thank you, Tom.

I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry,
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

What the hell is
happening with your hands?

- Oh, I'm just... I'm
just keeping the beat.

It's a little choreo
that I came up with,

and, uh, I think it adds
a little zazz, don't you?

- Sorry, were you whisking?

- Why label it?

It's just th-the Constable
coming through me.

I don't know what he's
doing. H-He's got his own life.

- Well, I hate it! Just sing.

- Oh, but I think it'd be good...
- Hands behind your back, Charles!

Thanks.

- Well, my pants are still
on, so that's a good sign.

- I have never heard filth

like what just came
outta your mouth!

- Tom is a Christian, Charles!

- Take the day, Tom!
Find a priest! Pray it out!

- I'm sorry, Tom! I don't know...
- Shh!

I'm taking control of this
situation now. Step into my office!

- It's this song! It's
making me mental!

- Is it the song?

Look, Charles, I'm
no psychoanalyst...

although I did talk Idina
Menzel off a literal ledge once.

Story for another time.

But I'm wondering if there
isn't something more going on.

- Like what?
- Like Joy moving in.

That's a huge life change.

Ever since I met you,
you've been alone.

- Well, you've been alone, too.

- Yes, but not in the
sad, tragic way you were.

- Alright.

I admit, I'm struggling.

I don't know what's
wrong with me.

I wanna be the
guy who can do this,

who can share his
home with a woman,

and, if necessary, 62 fish.

- That's a lot of fish.
- It is, right?

- Look, I'm gonna go
against my instincts here

and say something nice to you.

Maybe you don't need to change.

Maybe you are who you
are, and that's enough.

- I suppose some people
are meant to be alone.

And maybe I'm one of them.

But, how can I ask her to
move out? She just moved in.

- You'll find the words.

Just keep it simple
and don't overthink it.

- Well, you could stand
to take your own advice.

- Hey, this moment is about your
emotional shortcomings, not mine.

- Oh. And not about you
overthinking your big date?

- Fine.

Send.

Here's the thing.

If I go back to true crime,
it has to be strategic.

That's where you come in.
- Me? The hell would I do?

- Be my partner.

The Bloody Mabel Show
produced by Cinda Canning.

- I already have partners.

- The old guys?
No, they're busy,

putting together another
bomb of a Broadway show.

Which leaves you where?

Also, what are you gonna do when
people stop keeling over at the Arconia?

Have you thought
about that? No, no.

Bloody Mabel is already
feeling very last season.

You might wanna monetize it soon,
or you will have missed the boat.

- I might sell kombucha.

Or open boxes on YouTube.
You know, do a side hustle.

- It took you a year to paint a
wall in your aunt's apartment.

Hustle is not exactly
your middle name.

What I'm offering is structure.

A paycheck.

- Look, you maybe need
a comeback, but I don't.

I'm deep in a case right now.

- You're... Wait, what?

Ben Glenroy.

Oh, you lucky bitch!

It's like these murders
just fall in your lap!

Of course!

Like you were just gonna stand by
and hope that the police got it right.

- Well, I haven't
gotten very far.

Our best lead just fizzled out.

- You can crack this.

As long as you
have the right partner.

- Look, the guys are distracted.

And old.

Sometimes, they get
food stuck on their chin

and they don't know it
and I have to flick it off,

and that's kind of a bummer,

but I don't know.

They're my guys.

- That's beautiful.

What about money?
Money changes minds.

I'm gonna write you a check.

- I don't want it.

- What if I add another zero?

- No.

- Another?

- No.

- Okay, good, because
that's actually too much.

But think on it because
that offer is still on the table.

The middle offer, not the final one.
I don't know what I was doing there.

So I told the fish, I said,

"Fish, you behave this week, and
I'm gonna get you a treat." And look!

Treasure!

- We should talk.

You know, check in about
how it's going with us,

uh, living together.

- It's been 48 hours.

- Well, you know, Joy, I've, uh,

I've always been,
uh, living alone.

I mean, I've cohabitated
here and there,

but even then, I found myself

mostly hiding in the bathroom,

waiting for the other
person to leave,

so we wouldn't find ourselves
standing in the same room together.

You know, wh-which
can be so awkward.

Charlie, you are
a grade-A weirdo,

but I'm good for you,
and you're good for me.

It's like the fish. It takes a minute
to get the pH in the tank right,

but once you do...

What's your point, honey?

- Oh, the point? Oh,
well, uh, the point...

Whatever I did, I'm sorry.

- Sorry? Charles-Haden
Savage, I'd be honored.

The answer is yes!

I would love to marry you!

- Well, th-this is a fun twist.

Congratulations?

- Can you believe it?
We're getting hitched!

You found my lipstick.

As if this wasn't already
the best day of my life.

Nothing I hate more
than an incomplete set.