All language subtitles for Psych s08e05 Cog Blocked.eng

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Sir, I do not mean to be rude,

but these
are the 23 seconds of peace

that I get during my day.

Once those doors open,
I'm on the go

till my head hits the pillow,

and I need this time
to check in with myself

and get my head right.

People are counting on me.

And so I ask you, respectfully,

not to intrude
on my meditative state.

I was just gonna
tell you you got

- some schmutz on your pants.
- What?

Yeah, looks like you--
you sat in bird guano.

Man!

Damn it, Guster,

ten minutes early
is five minutes late.

Come with me, now!

Yes, sir, Mr. Latrek.

Gus, the phone's ringing.

Gus, the phone is ringing.

Where is that guy?

Hello?

Hello, can you hear me?

You've reached
the offices of Psych.

Oh!

Oh, well.

That's on you, phone.

I need you
to personally go over

the last few months
of daily call reports,

correlate those with the weekly

and monthly territory analyses.

Plus, I want you
to rewrite evaluations

for all the high prescribers
in the region--

schedules, nuances, peccadilloes
of the support staff, et cetera,

so we're all working with
the same information for once.

Yes, sir, Mr. Latrek.
Can do.

Look, I know you've
been with us 14 years

and have something like
111 unclaimed vacation days.

I'd ask someone else
to do this crap,

but I saw you first.

Thank you, sir.

Get it to me
by the end of the day.

But don't kill yourself.

- Hey!
- Aah!

I'm sorry.
Did I wake you?

No.
I was not asleep.

I was in a deep meditative state.

Look, I just have a question
about your motorcycle insurance

so I can pay this bill.

That's ridiculous,
I paid my insurance

the day I bought my motorcycle,
eight years ago.

Yeah, and this bill's been
coming to my place ever since.

Oh, pop,
this is one of those scams

that the elderly
often fall for.

Shawn, in order
to have a license,

you have to keep up
your insurance payments.

That's the law.

What, are you joking?

What kind of
police state is this?

This is exactly
the kind of stuff

that's gonna throw me
right off the grid, man!

Off the grid?
You're barely on the grid!

I pay for your insurance,
Juliet pays for your rent,

and Guster pays
for everything else.

Those are
bald-faced lies,

and you are
a bald-headed liar!

Shawn, there is a thing
called a monthly nut.

That's what your friends
are out there working for

while you're enjoying
hammock time.

What are you trying to say,
that I'm a leech?

No, I didn't say that.
I may think it.

I may nod when others say it,

but I definitely didn't say it.

Well, good,

because you want to know why?

Things have just been
a little tight lately.

Trout didn't hire us,

and the phone
hasn't exactly been--

Gus enjoys paying for things.

That's why I let him.
'Cause it makes him feel good.

And Jules never asks me
for money ever, so...

What, you just want me
to take stock of myself?

I just want to pay this bill.

Well, you don't have to.

I will take care of it myself.

You know why?
Because I am a grown-ass man.

I don't know.
Are you?

Sorry, Spencer,
I cannot help you.

Oh, come on, Lassie,
I helped save your wedding.

Just give me one
for old time's sake.

No, no, you listen to me.

Trout going 5150 was
the stroke of luck I needed

to get me out of
those horrible blues

and back onto Homicide,

and I'm not going
to jeopardize that

by hiring your slacker ass.

No offense.

Please give me some money!

Can't you just leech it
off of Juliet?

She's used to it.

She's in Florida,

visiting her aunt

or someone she's related to.

Besides, I am not a leech.

Right, look, I gotta go.
I got a case.

- Great, I'll meet you there.
- Oh, no, no, no, no.

You will not, all right?

Besides, it's a suicide.

There's nothing
for you to solve.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
I'm sensing that it's not.

You need me, man.
You need me ba--

Hello?
Was that a fake hang-up?

You doing a bit?

Damn it.

Aw, Sh--

Dude, this is a huge case,
finally.

I got it
off the police scanner.

Would you please stop
pretending to work?

I'm not pretending, Shawn.

The target list
from the last few cycles

- got all screwed up--
- Nobody cares

about the words
that you're saying!

Lassie needs us!

I'm working
for the weekend, Shawn.

What?
Gus.

Man, I'll give you 30 minutes.

Ahh.

You rode your motorcycle here?

No.

Damn it.

Which of my big-boy words
did you not understand

when I said,
"Do not come here"?

I didn't understand
any of them.

You're wrong about this.

The murder vibe is strong,

and I am sensing
billable hours.

All right, jackass.

You wanna see what
a textbook suicide looks like?

Feast your eyes.

Mm.
This looks like my place.

- Huh.
- Same color palette.

Same fixtures.

I have that sofa, that rug too.

Dude, that's the hutch
that I ordered.

Okay, Gus.

Meet the late John Russell.
Age 35.

According to his business card,
he worked a dead-end job

as a sales rep
at some place called

California Coast Insurance.

By all appearances,
he lived alone.

Oh, my goodness.

No sign of forced entry.
No sign of a struggle.

No sign of a significant other
in his life.

Empty pill bottle
near his hand.

The brother
didn't even have a cat.

Well, I will admit
that as far as murders go,

this feels subtle.

Gus.

- Gus?
- What?

- You all right up there?
- Yes, you are.

Mm-mmm.
No.

Who gives a bowling trophy
for sixth place?

I got sixth place once.

It's a hard thing to do.

Two, three, four,
five other guys

suddenly get hot with the ball,

and there you are--
sixth place.

Does that make me a bad bowler?

Does it?

John Russell.

Russ.

This guy was
as average as they come,

a faceless cog
who finally realized that life

wasn't gonna get any better,
so what's the point?

I think we're safe
to call this one a suicide.

No! No!

This was a good man

who lived a rich, proper,
and full life.

A man who had it all.

Come here.

Do the thing you do
and say it's murder.

Gus, nobody
wants this to be a murder

more than I do,
but check it out.

Tell them it's murder, Shawn.

- Tell them it's murder.
- Aah!

This man
was a responsible citizen

of the world, and he
did not go out like this.

There is absolutely
no doubt in my mind

that I've been murdered.

And by that, obviously I mean,

I've been murdered.

- You said "I've" again.
- I know.

Are you sure about that?

Find me a clue, Shawn.
Find me a clue now.

Dude, there are no clues.

- And I can't just make stuff up.
- That's all you ever do.

I wouldn't say
that's all I ever do.

I mean, have a gift
of sorts--ow!

- You owe me, Shawn.
- Okay, okay, fine, fine.

Hey, everybody, listen up.
I have a thing.

Everybody, listen to Shawn.

Uh, this man
is not the faceless cog

that he so clearly
appeared to be,

regardless of
your vantage point.

- Nope.
- To the untrained eye,

what may have looked like
the final desperate act

of a forgettable drone--
you know,

him snuffing out the light
of his dismal,

loveless, earth-toned...
failure of a life--

- Get to the point.
- It was, in fact,

wait for it...

murder.

- And we're done here.
- Yep.

Thanks, guys.

Dude, renaissance fest
next Saturday.

The renaissance fest
for next Saturday.

Whoa, ho, ho, ho,
wait a second.

I am sensing that John Russell

made plans to attend
an event in the future,

next weekend, that he knew
he would not live to see.

Now, that's a little weird,

don't we think?

In conclusion,
I'm gonna go ahead and say

that it's possible,
though not probable,

that maybe, just maybe,
this was, in fact, murder.

Though probably not.

Slightly.

My golly,
that was so compelling.

You know what?
You swayed me.

Here you go, Hardy boys,
go investigate.

- Ooh, yes.
- But you're not getting a dime.

No.

Let's catch us a killer.

Come on, man,
what are you doing?

I'm getting my head right
before we investigate, Shawn.

If there's murderer in here,
I'm gonna find him.

Oh, yeah?
How do you know it's a he?

- It's semantics, Shawn.
- It's not semantics.

- Who's gonna pay us for this?
- The universe.

Man, that is not a thing.

Yes, it is.

Why are we at your office?

This is not my office.

I work at Central Coast
Pharmaceuticals.

This is California Coast
Insurance.

Milli was not Vanilli.

What?

I know what goes on in offices.

Everyone is a suspect.

It's like Russ's death
had no effect on these people.

- Who's Russ?
- I meant Russell.

John Russell.

- Having fun.
- Excuse me?

Is that your yogurt?

I'm eating it, aren't I?

Really?

Are you eating
a dead man's yogurt?

Relax. I didn't think
he needed it anymore.

Besides, it expires
in three days.

Three days?
Three days?

Would you do if that
was Jesus's yogurt?

- Gus.
- What?

- No.
- Where were you

- last night at 10:00 P.M.?
- Home.

Was that before or after

- you murdered John Russell?
- What?

- What is this commotion?
- I'm sorry, we're actually--

We're with the SBPD,

and we'd like to ask you
a circumstances

surrounding the death
of John Russell.

Yeah.
That's--that's right.

Of course.

John was our top sales rep.

He was reliably efficient.

He'd been with us for 15 years.

He had 113 unused
vacation days.

Hey, that's how many Gus has.

I have 111.

He was a nice fella.

A little dull.

- Oh, no.
- Is there a problem?

No, Mr. Latrek--Mr. Grouse.
Continue.

Well, when I found out
it was a suicide,

I can't say I was surprised.

He didn't seem to have much
of a life outside of work.

Mm, that's not actually true.

In fact, he had a very full
and exciting life.

He didn't even
have a girlfriend.

He was between relationships.

But he was very sought-after,
very sexy.

- Gus.
- What?

- No.
- A very sexy man.

If you say so.

Do you think that foul play
might've been involved?

- No.
- Yes.

Things are definitely pointing
in that direction.

That's unbelievable.
He seemed so...

you know, anonymous.

Hmm.

All right, uh, Mr. Grouse,

do you remember
anything out of the ordinary

about John before he died?

Well, he had been late
for a few days.

That was unusual,
but I let it slide.

He was my top guy.

And he only made 48k a year.

- $48,000?
- That's right.

- Tax-free?
- No.

You're gonna have
to fill that position, right?

I mean,
you have to replace him.

- We'll promote from within.
- Ooh.

You think that's the best idea?

Because I can come in here
and I can be refreshing

and I can see things
with fresh eyes for you.

- Scape it up.
- Uh-huh.

Will there be anything else?

Ooh.
May I keep this?

- No, it was a gift.
- Mm.

Ooh.
How about this?

No.

If there's nothing else--

Spite your face.

That guy needs to turn the page

to the 20th century, Gus.

What?
It's a dead end, man.

What--aah.

Ugh!

- Come here.
- But--

Come here, man.
Find me a clue.

Find me a clue right now.

- Oh, my God.
- What?

I'm so bored.

Wrong answer, Shawn.

Try again.

Shawn!

What's happening?

Well, well, well.
Look who it is.

Here for something else?

A desk chair?
A ficus?

That's a palm,

and if you must know,
I'm taking John's computer.

Oh, my gosh.

Look, I'm the number-two guy,
and I had dibs.

My computer is, like,
ten years old.

Hells naw.

Gus.

N--ugh.

I don't know, dude,
he's a little, uh--

Gus!

People of Central Coast
Pharmaceuticals--

California Coast Insurance.

People of California Coast
Insurance,

a man has died,

a man you've worked
side-by-side with for 15 years,

yet to walk amongst you,
you'd never know it.

Where are the flowers,
the tears?

Where are the hushed tones

and the keening wails
of the bereaved?

Oh, for shame.
What is a man's life worth?

Just something to be stripped
for parts once he's gone?

Russ was one of you.

Who's Russ?

Don't.
Just let it--

Well, Mr. Yoplait-er,

maybe if you'd bothered
to get to know the man,

you would have grown
close enough to enjoy

the intimacy of a nickname.

A man has died,

and you must at least
let his hard drive cool

before you may claim
his computer as your own.

What's this
about a computer, Quan?

I called dibs
on John's computer.

It's not like he needs it.

- Would you cool down!
- Get off me.

Easy there, Denzel.

Little more Mighty Quinn,
a little less Training Day.

Leave John's stuff alone,
all right, Quan?

Let's have some respect.

And you two,
I talked to the SBPD.

They say you don't
work for them.

Oh, they're this close
to hiring us.

It's just a matter
of paperwork, really.

I think it's time
for you both to leave.

- Yes, Mr. Latrek.
- The name's Grouse.

Yes, sir.

I've always wanted
to work in insurance.

Ruminate on that.

What is going on with you, man?

You're taking this
very personally.

Check it out.

I stole it
off of the janitor's cart.

We are sneaking back in tonight.

Wait, but you
don't steal key cards.

That's not your thing.

I've never been murdered
before.

It's liberating.

I don't know, man.

I do not like this.
It feels wrong.

You do this kind of stuff
all the time.

Yeah, but now you're doing it.
It's totally throwing me off.

I'm going to start
saying stuff like "Hurry up"

and "Be careful."

- I'm in.
- Get outta here.

What?
You know that's right.

Let's see.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

That email came in
after he died.

It's addressed
to Dr. Alan Champion

- from Angela Bennett.
- So?

Dude, that's Sandy Bullock
and Dennis Miller's names

from the movie The Net.

- You remember The Net?
- Of course.

Dude, I swear, I remember
every movie I've ever seen.

I couldn't tell you one thing

that happens in The Net.
Not one.

I know I saw it.
I think I saw it twice.

Dude, we saw that together.

Dude, check this out.

It says they're
supposed to meet tonight

in the Buena Vista lounge.

"Come alone."

- Gus, this is good.
- Mm-hmm.

Let's call Lassie and get paid.

Uh, no.

"Come alone," Shawn,
means we go alone.

No, it's a common mistake.
It means we get paid.

Let's go.

- Do you have a reservation?
- Yes, Dr. Alan Champion.

Alan Champion.

There's no reservation
under that name.

Oh, um,
how about Angela Bennett?

- Your name is Angela?
- I meant Jack Devlin.

- Hmm.
- That's Jeremy Northam's name

- from The Net.
- Northam was in The Net?

- Mm-hmm.
- Nothing.

Sorry, no.

- Jason Bourne?
- No.

- Jack Bauer?
- Mm-mmm.

Tony Stark?

Billy Elliot?
Ferris Bueller?

Edward Scissorhands?
Han Solo?

Hans Landa?
Han... nah Montana?

Mr. Popper?
Mr. Bean?

Mr. Ripley, Mr. Deeds,
Mr. Pink, Mr. White, Mr. Brown,

Mr. Blonde, Mr. T, Dr. T,

Dr. Jekyll, Dr. Phibes,
Dr. Evil,

Dr. Horrible, Dr. Doolittle?

Frodo, Gandalf, Bilbo,

Neo, Morpheus, Trinity,
Simba, Zazu,

Ross, Chandler, Joey,
Jerry, George, Elaine, Kramer,

Kirk, Spock, Picard, Data?

John Russell?

- Right this way, Mr. Russell.
- There it is, there it is.

Beginning, middle, and an end.

Thank you.

Hello.

- You're not John.
- What?

No, no.
Wait, wait, wait.

We just got smoked
by a blind ninja.

And her hair smelled
like magnolia blossoms.

Uh, yes, I am interested
in walking your small dog.

The one with the beard.
How much is that gonna pay me?

Wait, you want to walk my dog?
I don't have a dog.

Are you or are you not
looking to hire a dog walker?

You are a dog walker?

Well, that doesn't make
any sense.

Well, this flyer
is very confusing.

I'm a contributing member
of society, and I need work.

I--hello?

So going off Shawn's hunch
that this is a murder

- and not a suicide--
- It was my hunch.

I still think
he killed himself.

I put on my forensic
pathologist's hat

and imagined what
Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh would do

if this were an episode
of Crossing Jordan.

Then, I imagined
how actress Jill Hennessey

would approach playing
Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh

if this were an episode
of Crossing Jordan.

Woody, that's deep.
What did you turn up?

Nothing, dead end.

Here's what I know:

This suicide scene
was as staged

as an episode
of Crossing Jordan.

I knew it.

The residue
from the pill bottle

found in John Russell's hand

tested positive for Seconal,

but he has a heart condition.

Seconal is not recommended for
people with heart conditions.

- That proves it.
- Proves what, Gus?

The man killed himself.
I don't think he was looking

for a heart-healthy way
to do it.

It's something, Shawn.
It's all something.

The mysterious,
beautiful, blind woman;

Quan; the pills.

John Russell
was an upstanding citizen.

He did not go out like that.

Well, he was not too upstanding

if he was hanging out
at this place.

Putin on the Ritz.

It's a Russian nightclub,
and it's shady.

Dangerous people
doing dangerous things

to dangerous people.

Mm.

Oh, yeah, I just go there
for the buffet.

Taste of St. Petersburg
in your own backyard.

- Mm.
- Except it's not in my backyard

and people have died there,

but what can I say?

I'm a foodie.

Look, Gus, sometimes, people do

actually kill themselves,
it happens.

Nope, not this time, Shawn.
I wouldn't do that to myself.

It's not you, it's him.

Look, if you want to leave,
fine, I'll do it myself.

No, no, I'm with you,
all right?

I am. I just need to know
one thing first.

What?

Do you think I'm a leech?

Yes, I do.

What'll you have, my friends?

- Hi, we're--
- My name is Burton Guster

and this is my partner,
Laika, the Space Sog.

We were wondering,
have you seen this man

around here recently?

How long has child
been missing?

Many people come
in and out of P.O.R.

- Buffet very popular.
- Sure.

Is there an actual Vladimir,

and if so,
may we speak with him?

Vlad very busy.
He's meeting with his 10:00 now.

No! No!

No! No!

No!

He has very long day ahead.

- We'll wait.
- No, we won't.

We'll see you again, real soon.

Book it.

No, until I hear
something concrete

on the John Russell case,
it is closed.

I know this guy Vlad
is somehow involved

with the death of John Russell.

Well, now, that would
be a pretty neat trick,

considering Vlad
spent the last 72 hours

in county lock-up and was
only released this morning.

- This morning?
- That's right.

And if John Russell was involved
with a Russian gangster,

we would have found
this thing called evidence.

We went over
that sad, little apartment

- with a fine-toothed comb.
- Really?

I'll bet you didn't try
toilet, freezer, leisure:

The holy trinity
of hiding places.

Let's go, Shawn.

Still not hiring you.

See? See?

I told you something
was going on, Shawn.

Look what they did
to my apartment.

Okay, this is not
your apartment.

- You do know that, right?
- Oh, isn't it, Shawn?

- Isn't it?
- Wow, all right, man.

Let's just do a quick round
of pooper, flooper, looper,

and then go get you the help
that you so desperately need.

- It's toilet, freezer, leisure.
- What'd I say?

You said,
"pooper, flooper, looper."

I don't think so.

All right, my bad.
I got it--I got it wrong.

I got your thing wrong.

I know how you think.

Toilet!

Freezer.

Leisure.

Boom!

I knew this was
more than 12 pounds.

I just picked up
the seven/ten split.

Gus, holy crap, man,
you did it.

What?

It's a death certificate.

Who's "Pony Wayne White"?

Maybe "Em" can tell us.

No, looks like nobody's here.

Should we knock, or--

Okay.

That's how I knock.

All right, scale of one to ten,

- how much did that hurt?
- Zero.

Hey!
Ah, ah, ah.

Come on inside.

Mm-hmm.
Tell me this, Shawn.

Why are there so many pictures
of John Russell?

I don't know.

Why is there
a picture of us, Gus?

What?

Oh.

You know what?

Maybe this was a suicide
after all.

Let's go.

- Who the hell are you?
- Who the hell are you?

- I asked you first.
- I'm a private investigator.

Well, I'm
a private investigator too.

You just said that
because I said it.

- Don't tell me what I said.
- I just did.

How 'bout you lower those guns?

Why are you pretending
to be blind?

I'm not pretending.
I have astigmatism.

You gonna have to do a lot
better than that, honey bunny.

I'm not gonna have to do
anything, pumpkin.

I'm the one with the guns.

How 'bout you lower those guns?

What's your relationship
to John Russell?

- What's yours?
- Were you two

- romantically involved?
- Were you?

- Are you involved with anyone?
- Why?

Because you are
incredibly attractive.

- Don't tell me what I am.
- I just did.

John hired me.

He said he was gonna
bring me evidence

of something big,
but he never showed up.

- Something big, huh?
- Don't do it, Gus.

- Something like this?
- Damn it.

I guess
that makes you "Em."

Emmanuelle.
Gimme that--

- Nah.
- Hoo hoo.

It's not going down like that.
Guns first.

Oh, so shorty got ice water
in his veins now, huh?

Like a chilled Martini.
Cool, yet unmistakably--

- Gus.
- What?

- It's too much.
- What?

Look, why don't you guys
just compare rates on expedia

and get a room already.

Man!

I have astigmatism too.

Shut up.

Okay, my butt is vibrating.

That means
I'm gonna check my phone.

Easy, easy.

Talk to me, Woody.

Huh.

Woody found evidence
that John Russell

was force-fed those pills.

Gus, you were
absolutely right, man.

This is not a suicide.

John Russell's dead?

Welcome to the nah.

Why was John giving you
a death certificate

for Pony Wayne White?

I think it had something to do

with insurance fraud.

That's why he hired me.

He wouldn't tell me much more,

said he wanted to do
some legwork on his own.

I would follow him
and take pictures

in case something happened.

You must be a real brave girl.

Don't tell me what I am.

So is this your car?

No, this is a company car.

Gus is a pharmaceutical rep.

It's my day job.

Being an investigator's
my real passion.

What's your day job?

His day job
is me working my day job.

Yeah, but I'm thinking
about taking work as a "Manny."

I'm gonna apply for this gig.

Okay, this is for someone
looking to get hired as a nanny,

not hire one.

What?

I call shotgun
next time we're in the car.

Nah.

I don't sit back there.
The doors don't work.

- Well, you can't do that.
- She just did.

Pony Wayne White?
Yeah, I know that name.

I just did an autopsy on him
last week,

but this says
he's been dead for two months.

That can't be right, can it?

I mean, I think
I'd notice if a body

had been dead for two months.

The smell alone, yeah.

- Who are you?
- Who are you?

I'm Detective Carlton Lassiter.

- Yeah, well, so what?
- Whoa, whoa, whoa.

This says "Cause of death:
Cardiac arrest."

Yeah, sure, if cardiac arrest

puts grapefruit-sized holes
in your chest.

See, here's the death
certificate I signed last week.

"Cause of death:
Gunshots to the chesty area."

I remember this guy.

He was killed trying to rob
a shooting range,

which just proves
that Darwin was right.

And there's my signature.

I think that's a forge.

Uh, why would I forge
my own signature, Shawn?

No, no, Woody, not that one.
This one here.

I think someone
took your signature

and then drew over it.

You see, Emmanuelle,
I'm a psychic.

- Good for you.
- My God.

I feel so violated, Emmanuelle.

And yet, in a weird way,
flattered.

Mm.
So someone--

Forged an official
death certificate

for Pony Wayne White
two months before he died?

- Unless there's--
- Unless there are

two Pony Wayne Whites,
this could be

the insurance fraud
John was investigating.

- Look, we should--
- We should check out

- the White House.
- Yes.

Wh--

uh, uh, what?

Yeah, I'll be right there!

All right, guys, I gotta go.

Someone has to lead.

I have a standing "shotgun"
in this vehicle,

and everyone knows it!

Gus, is that an old French fry?

I am in a metal cage
of despair!

This is it.
Pony Wayne White's.

Hey, guys, you're gonna
have to open my door

from the outs--

Mrs. White?

Maybe.

My name is Emmanuelle,
and this is my partner,

Denzel Diggs Underwood
Morris Chestnut Washington.

I can hear you.
That is my bit.

We'd like to ask you
about your husband's death.

Oh, he just opened up
a club for ladies.

You know, where fellas shake it
for money and whatnot.

Well, are they hiring?
Because I could use the work.

And I'll shake my junk
any old place.

Sorry for asking,
but how did he afford

something like that?

He took a loan,

wouldn't say from who.

Couldn't go to no bank,
not with his record.

'Course, the interest
is real high.

Well, did Pony
have life insurance?

Yeah, but when
I tried to collect,

they says Pony died of
a heart attack two months ago.

Did you ever meet a guy
named John Russell?

Yeah, he was gonna
look into it for me.

Then some other guy calls,
says it's his case now.

That's the last I heard
from anybody.

I think I know who that guy is.

- Thank you.
- Mm-hmm.

Messed up, you guys
leaving me in here like that.

I am not a child!

What do you think Quan's
doing here by himself?

And where's everyone else?

Well, well, well.

Looks like you and I are gonna
have a nice conversation.

Quan didn't do it,
but he might have a lead.

John discovered some sketchy
payouts from the company,

but he wouldn't tell me
any more.

That must be why
you wanted his computer.

I figured this was my chance

since we get a half day
for John's funeral.

See, man, Quan's a good dude.
He's trying to help out.

Still doesn't explain
the yogurt.

I still can't access
these accounts.

They're password protected,
which is weird.

Man, watch out.
Watch out.

Just calm down, all right?

That's what I keep getting.

Do you have any idea
what the code may be?

There's, like, 17,000
possible combinations.

Try "a-d-b," or "b-d-a,"
or "b-a-d."

- I'm in.
- I got it right, didn't I?

No, I found a back door
into the system.

Just like in The Net.

- Hey.
- What?

- All right.
- That's what I'm talking about.

Print it all.

Hurry up.

Nice to see you're
feeling better, Mr. Russell.

Well,
I'll tell you this, Jules,

if we actually get paid
for this,

you're getting a taste, okay?

No, I insist.

Now, tell me all about Florida.
Start at the beginning.

Whoa, whoa, hey, hey, hey!
Shotgun, shotgun!

Hey, I called it
in the elevator.

No, you cannot call shotgun
before you even see the car.

- We don't have time for this.
- I don't care.

It's not fair,
and I'm mad as hell!

Fine, we can call it on three.

One, two--

Shotgun!

Shotgun!

Shawn, get Lassie on the phone.

And make sure she's safe.
I'll keep him occupied.

Hey, Gus, be careful.

Don't tell me what to be.

Let's dance.

Aah!

All right.
Trying to mess with me?

Come on, son.
What do you think this is?

You think this
is my first rodeo?

What?

Oh, gosh.

Oh!

All right, all right,
all right.

It's me and you, baby.
Come on, it's me and you.

Here we go.

What?
I just got you serviced.

Oh, man.

Oh.

Oh, gosh.
Oh, gosh!

Uh...

Drop it!

Oh, Lassie.

Don't shoot him!
He's just a kid!

I did it.

I did it.
Oh.

Dude, I did it.

I did it.

- Yeah, you did--
- Oh, Gus.

Well, we all see
where this is going.

No, it was a gift.

Why is there
a picture of us, Gus?

This guy's
just the trigger man.

I know who killed John Russell!

And I know
who he was working for!

Let's go get him.

Lassie,
we're gonna need a ride.

Shotgun!

Damn it!

What can you say about John?

Number-one sales rep.
Reliably efficient.

He will be missed.
Would anyone else like to speak?

I would.

John Russell was a cog,

a faceless, nameless,
"reliably efficient" cog.

But here's the thing.

This world was built
off of the sweat,

toil, and dedication of cogs.

If we do our job right,

you won't even know
that we're there.

And that's the way we like it.

You see, cogs thrive on order,

but something was out of order

at Central Coast
Pharmaceuticals.

California Coast
Insurance.

Come on, son.

California Coast Insurance.

Something making it hard
out there for a cog.

You see, somebody
was giving loans to bad people

in exchange
for a cut of the action.

A cop would call that person
a loan shark.

But John Russell
used to call him his boss.

What?

Mr. Grouse paid out
death benefits

to people who were still alive.

He took a loan,
wouldn't say from who.

Couldn't go to no bank,
not with his record.

Elaborate stuff too.

Death certificates,
the whole bit.

Here's the death certificate
I signed last week.

"Cause of death:
Gunshots to the chesty area."

Did you know that
some of the worst establishments

in Santa Barbara
are owned by dead people?

That's ridiculous!
He's lying.

Ooh!

Pony Wayne White opened up
Pony's: The mane event--

spelled "m-a-n-e" --

after he suffered
a fatal heart attack

with a loan that he received
from Mr. Grouse.

Now, that's
one entrepreneurial zombie.

These people know me, okay?
They trust me.

Everything was just fine,

but then Pony had to go
and die for real.

And when John Russell
discovered

that something funny
was going on...

John discovered some sketchy
payouts from the company,

but he wouldn't tell me
any more.

Grouse decided
it was time that John

finally took his vacation--
a permanent one.

This is outrageous.
You--you can't prove this.

Man, I already have.

All right, Grouse, let's go.

Ah!

Sumbitch.

So who do I talk to
about getting your job?

What?

John Russell thought
that doing the right thing

was more important
than doing the safe thing.

He may have
lived his life as a cog,

but he died a hero.

- That man is sexy.
- Mm.

He gets it from me.

I don't think so.

You know,
this buffet isn't that bad.

Hey, well, consider this on me,

now that you're
gainfully unemployed.

No, no, no, I got it.

I'm debt free, and I have
an emergency fund earning 1.25%.

I'm good, at least for
the next four to six months.

Well, here's to the next
four to six months.

I must break you...

with a couple of
very refreshing vodka beverages.

But this is not
the good stuff, you guys.

Look at you,
earning your monthly nut.

What?

Oh, it's only part time.

But I gotta admit,
it feels good.

Bringing home the bacon,
smackin' it,

flippin' it, rubbin' it down.

Oh, no.

- I like the bacon.
- Hey.

- I'm proud of you.
- I'm proud of you.

Quitting your job like that,
all man-style.

Man, look, I'm done
with the cog thing, Shawn.

It's time for me
to do the Gus thing.

I'll say this much.

I am gonna put in
a good word with Vlad

when you're ready
to start working again.

- Mm.
- I gotta tell you guys.

What we've done here
is build an amazing team.

Ground floor, grass roots.

I mean, you work closely
with people, you learn things,

like their names,
and it's nice, and it's rich.

Shawn, you've had this job
for, like, 45 minutes.

Sure, but it
doesn't feel that way.

Hey, guys, check out
this action.

Huh?

Hey!

I told you not throw bottles
anymore.

Get out!
You're fired.

Copy that, big bear.

That's Vlad.

Well, I gave it
the old college try.

Gus, I'm going to need you
to get your job back right away.

Dude, that bridge is burnt.

Security had to tase me.

Well...

we'll figure something out.
We always do.

I'm gonna say my good-byes.

Hey, Alexyi.
Alexyi, don't be a stranger.

Hey, hey.
I don't know you, buddy. Stop!

- We need to get out of here.
- Do svidaniya.

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