All language subtitles for santa.clarita.diet.s02e05.480p.web.x264.rmteam

Boone may be a Nazi,
but he's very kind to birds.

Are you having second thoughts
about killing him?

No, we're almost out of the Serb guy.
And Boone idolizes Hitler.

The Hitler.

Gonna eat this bastard tits to teeth.

- "Tits to teeth?"
- It's an expression.

- It means to eat all of something.
- No, baby, not that I've heard.

- "Gums to thumbs"?
- Sure.

Do you see a way for us
to get the body out?

Well, it's gonna be tough.

There's no alley,
there's a lot of foot traffic,

and there's a 7-Eleven on the corner,
so night's not gonna be any better.

Killing people is hard.
I used to think that was a good thing.

- They're opening up Japopo's. I gotta go.
- What's your plan?

I'm gonna get their receipts and find out
if anybody else ordered the clams

the same night as you and Ramona.
If they did, I'll track them down.

And if they turned,
we'll know it was the clams.

Then, I'll try to save humanity,
tits to teeth.

Well, I heard it somewhere.

Mm-hmm.

But what's your plan to get the receipts?

You're not gonna pretend
you're a health inspector, are you?

No. But why would that be bad?

Because they would ask for ID.

Right. We had the same reason.

You're hanging out in the walk-in freezer?

- Don't do it.
- Hello.

I'm a documentary filmmaker
working on a movie

about tipping in the restaurant industry.

I was recently in England
where they don't tip at all.

So that's been interesting.

A whole documentary on tipping?

It may expand to other areas.

Race. Ageism. What have you. Angels.

Oh, my wife loves angels. She once
thought she saw one in Yosemite.

Incredible.

I might want to interview her on camera.

That'd be great.

Done.

In the meantime, I'd love to see
your receipts from the past three weeks.

I guess that'd be okay.
I mean, it's for my wife's movie, right?

You wrote a scathing Yelp review
about us.

My cook recognized you
from your picture.

Yes, I did.

Would your wife be available
for an interview tomorrow?

You need to write me a better review.

The thing is,
I have Yelp Elite Member status.

So the integrity of my reviews...

You know what?
I'll write you a good review.

No, no, no, not on your phone,
Mr. Integrity. Put some time into it.

Come back tonight.
If I like it, I'll give you the receipts.

Fine. But people like you are the reason

documentary filmmaking
is dying in this country.

- Sheila. Sheila...
- Mm-hmm? Yeah?

Time!

I gotta get to work, girlie.
You're fun to spar with.

You hit for, like, 20 minutes.
You're not even tired.

I have a lot of energy lately.
I gave up dairy. Again tomorrow?

- Yeah, sure. Gotta keep in shape.
- I can imagine so, being a sheriff.

What? Oh, no.
We mostly just sit in a car all day.

I was talking about Lisa.
She's a very physical and energetic lover.

I'm beginning to think she killed Dan.

- We're dating, by the way.
- Oh, well, congratulations.

Speaking of Dan,
any news on the investigation?

Nope. But a lot of people have
gone missing from Santa Clarita lately.

- Too many, if you ask me.
- Is anyone asking you?

No. I suggested we start a task force

to see if any of these disappearances
are connected,

but my boss won't listen to me.
I'm just a deputy.

Wow. Frustrating. Sounds like
a lost cause. You should let that go.

Focus more on you.
What makes Anne happy?

Christ's infinite love.

Yeah, He's great. What else?

I like to paint.

Well, put your energy into that!
What else?

- I like gardening.
- Well, then you should grow some flowers,

put them in a vase
and paint that shit. What else?

- I love solving mysteries.
- Next!

You know what, you're right, Sheila.

I'm gonna do what I want and I'm gonna
look into these missing people myself

and see if there's a connection.

No. You should plant and paint.

You'll be too tired for anything else.

Not if I quit dairy, like you.

You are so inspiring.

I'll get you a bonsai tree.
That's gardening and art. Fuck.

"The angels in heaven
would surely give up their wings

for one trip to Japopo's
all-you-can-eat penne bar."

- It's good.
- Really?

- You're being sarcastic, right?
- No.

- Then it's bad.
- Shit.

Writing this is so much harder
than I thought it would be.

Hey, you wanna smoke a little?

Get the creative juices going.
It's been a while.

No, I gotta stay focused.
If we get high,

we'll just end up
designing sneakers again.

Okay, what is going on with you?

You don't wanna smoke,
you were in the hospital,

now you're writing a good review
for a place you once called

"thunderously mundane."

I don't wanna lie to you anymore.

- Good.
- But I can't tell ya.

- Seriously?
- I'm sorry.

All right.

Thanks, Rick.

Yeah. Just don't disappear on me, man.

I'm trying not to.

- Mm.
- Oh.

You guys are hugging. That's so nice.
Don't stop on my account,

but when you're done, Joel,
I really need to talk to you.

We're good.

Bye-bye, Rick.

So, I was boxing with Anne,

and she thinks that all the missing people
in Santa Clarita might be connected.

- Shit!
- I tried to convince her to let it go.

But with almost poetic irony,
I inspired her to get to the bottom of it.

Jesus. I told you, you shouldn't be
friends with a cop. It's too dangerous.

Said by the man who was just wrapped
in a warm embrace with a cop.

That's different.

Anne is an intense
and ambitious sheriff's deputy.

Rick joined the Santa Monica Police
so he could ride a horse on the beach.

Well, we can sit around and play
the blame game.

Maybe I'm wrong, maybe you're wrong.

You're the one who put us at risk.

- How am I wrong?
- I thought we just agreed

we weren't gonna play that game.

What's important now
is that we have to be careful

because Anne is interested in our crime.

- For a reason that's nobody's fault.
- Yours.

That aside, we have been getting sloppy.

That Serb you killed in here?
I put his shoes on this morning.

And we have Gary's head and a mutant
spider ball with legs in the basement.

We have to get everything incriminating
out of the house.

And if it's not safe to kill that Nazi,
we're not doing it.

- You're right. It's just...
- It's just what?

I want to.

Good morning, outlaws.

Hey, Abby, I want to talk to you
about yesterday.

When you were choking Ramona
with your belt, that was quite a moment.

Yeah, I also flagged that as something
to circle back to. How you feeling?

Fine. I saved my best friend's life.

I promise not to make a habit
of choking people. Okay? But I'm late.

- Okay, well, we worry about you.
- Don't.

I'm okay.

Listen, Abs, our day just got
kind of busy.

So could we put you in charge
of dinner tonight?

Sure, and since I'm in charge,
I want you to order in Thai food, okay?

Love you, bye.

Man, I just got handled.

- Ordering in.
- I know, and it happened so fast.

No, we should try that.

If it's too risky to kill Boone
at his house,

we should have him delivered.

Interesting. Go on.

Well, now that Anne is looking
into things,

which something that just happened,

let's move on,
we need to rethink our whole operation.

I agree. We have been erring
on the side of incompetence.

- Some of us more than others.
- So I was thinking, screw you,

we get a storage unit
that's just dedicated to killing.

Then we line the room with plastic...

and move the freezer into it,
so we can easily clean everything up.

Next, we move Gary's head
and Mr. Ball Legs out of our basement

and put them in our old storage unit.

- Why do I have to move?
- You'll be happier here.

- It's like having your own place.
- Yeah, sure.

- Is that what you told the Bowflex?
- We'll get you a TV.

Maybe plug in a lava lamp.

- Groovy.
- You barely visited me in the basement.

Are you ever gonna visit me
when I'm halfway across town?

- Of course, we will, Gary.
- It's only a chore if you make it a chore.

Then, we find a way to lure Boone
into the kill room.

- Should we add a swastika?
- I don't want to draw a swastika.

Well, we should add something intolerant.

Then, we let Nazis be Nazis.

Hey. I'm white.

Hey, Eric. So I was looking in the paper
for more missing people, you know,

just, like, seeing what my mom and dad
are up to, and I found this article.

Did you know they're gonna start
fracking, like, four miles from here?

Yeah, we've been talking about it
in Environmental Club.

Fracking is a heinous defilement
of the planet.

Although,
the science behind it is exquisite.

Abby, there's a rumor you were expelled
for whacking Christian with that tray.

And Bobby Ramirez said that
the school put a chip in your neck.

I'm not getting expelled.
No teachers saw it.

And Bobby Ramirez
says a lot of weird stuff

- since he got hit with that Smart Car.
- Hi, Sarah. Eric Bemis.

There's another rumor that Christian
was crying in the locker room,

but then other people said that
it wasn't him.

It was just some random guy that
doesn't even go to this school,

who's blind.

Don't people have more important things
to talk about?

They're gonna start fracking
in Santa Clarita.

Oh, my God. That's terrible.

- You don't know what fracking is, do you?
- I know it's, like, super cancery.

They inject poisonous chemicals
into the ground to break up rock

and release natural gas. Eric Bemis.

Yeah, it causes earthquakes,
it pollutes the groundwater.

It's messed up.
Someone needs to stop them.

People shouldn't be able to do
whatever they want

and just get away with it.

Abby Hammond
to the principal's office.

Oh.

Sounds like somebody's
getting her chip reprogrammed.

Yeah.

Eric Bemis.

Nope.

"Japopo's has it all.

There's fish from the ocean,
and meat from the land."

This sucks.

Joel. I just heard from Boone.
He got the flyer. It worked!

He's gonna swing by the storage unit
at 4:00. It's happening, baby.

We're going premeditated.
We're going pre-med.

Yay, first-degree.

It's kind of ironic.

The more care you put into a murder,
the harsher society judges you.

And you'd be proud of me
because Carl just mansplained to me

how to work a lockbox.

I smiled, said "thank you,"

and didn't pull out the vocal cords
he used to insult me.

Somebody's ready for an audience
with the Pope.

You were right.
I was overly impulsive.

Including my friendship with Anne.

It's too risky.
I'm gonna break it off.

Good.
I appreciate you taking responsibility.

We really do have to be careful, honey.

We have to watch what we say
and who we say it to.

Joel?

Ron? They let you out?

Yeah. Budget cuts!

I saw you coming out
of Japopo's this morning,

and I was like, "That is my friend Joel
from the mental hospital."

I wonder how he is."

Is this your wife? The... the...

Brains.

Can I talk to you for a minute?

Yes, my love?

I'm gonna tell you what I think happened,

and then you can correct me
if I'm wrong. All right?

Of course, my darling.

You gave me a hard time for
befriending Anne, which could expose us,

while knowing full well
you told this guy that I was undead,

which totally exposes us.

Am I missing anything?

Okay, I'm sorry, but...

He's crazy. I figured if he ever did
get out, nobody would believe him, anyway.

"I'm sorry, but" is not an apology.

You totally gave me up.

You put both of us in jeopardy.
And the way you described me?

Brains? I go for the guts first.
Or do you even listen to me?

Okay. You're mad. I'll go talk to Ron.

And I love you. We don't say that enough.

Just casually. But it's true.

Go!

Listen, Ron. Last time we saw each other,
I was a little out of it.

My wife is not undead.

Right. Got it.

So I actually know some people
in paranormal circles

that would love to meet her.

Maybe watch her eat someone.
Wouldn't that be a treat?

She's not undead.
And if you tell anyone she is,

right before she kills me,

- I'm gonna kill you. You understand?
- Okay. Jeez, I won't say anything.

- You promise?
- Yes.

Let's not let that come
between what we have.

You hungry? You wanna share a hoagie?

No, I probably shouldn't.

She's a little upset.

See, she became friends with a cop,

which I thought
was really dangerous because...

You know what? Fuck this.
I'm done telling you things.

I have conducted a thorough investigation

into the violent incident in the lunchroom
yesterday.

And while I have evidence to expel you,
if you confess, I may show mercy.

I'm gonna call your bluff.
I don't think you have anything.

You behaved like a rabid dog,
it will not stand. Confess.

If you had any proof,
you would've called my parents in.

- Confess.
- No.

Okay, I don't have any evidence.

So I cannot punish you
for your tray outburst.

But you have several unexcused absences,
which I can punish you for.

So, how about...

- ...a month of detention? Mm.
- A month?

Principal Novak, please,

my family is going through
this very complicated thing right now.

I don't wanna be away from home
that much.

Oh, not such a Cocky Carolyn now,
are we, hmm?

- Good afternoon.
- Eric!

What brings you here? Oh, wait, wait,
wait. Would you care for a paczki?

There's chocolate in the center.
Don't be surprised.

No, thank you.
I'm just here on Abby's behalf

to make sure she's treated fairly.

Too late. He called me a "rabid dog"
and gave me a month of detention.

My decision and my analogy both stand.

Eric, would you care to take a dive
in the candy drawer?

After your heroics
at the Science Olympiad last week,

- you certainly deserve it.
- No, thank you.

Maybe we can figure out something
for Abby to do besides detention.

What if she joined
the Environmental Club instead?

That's a great idea.

Sorry, madam,
the loose goose does not escape the moose.

- Noose.
- What?

Are you sure we can't work something out?

Because it'd just be such a shame

if I didn't compete
in the final Science Olympiad this year.

Oh, my God. Thank you.
You saved me.

And the way you stood up to Novak!
Holy shit.

I was trying to channel the swagger
of Eddie Redmayne

in The Theory of Everything
before he got Lou Gehrig's Disease.

You know, that totally came through.
I like this side of you.

You were a badass.

"Eric the Badass." I like it.

"Son of Lisa the Pharma Rep.
Neighbor of Joel."

Put that on a shield
and fight dragons with it.

I would really love that. So I'll see you
at lunch in the Environmental Club?

Yeah. We're gonna get those frackers.
Tits to teeth.

Hmm?

- I told my mom that was a thing.
- Okay.

- Hey. Tray girl, right?
- Oh, Abby.

I'm Sven.

That was really cool what you did
to Christian in the cafeteria yesterday.

Oh.

Thank you.

- You didn't think it was too extreme?
- Oh, it was definitely too extreme.

That's what made it so awesome.
That guy's been a dick since sixth grade.

It's really nice to see someone finally
take him down.

Uh, I'm Abby.

- Yeah, you said. I'm still Sven.
- Right.

Tell me something I don't know, Tray Girl.
Like your phone number.

Oh, my God. That's so good.

So, I'm thinking, Boone walks in,
"Hey, fuckers.

Where's your Nazi memorabilia, fuckers?"

And then when he crosses
to the trunk

and bends down to open it,
one of us takes a bite out of his neck.

- I suggest, me.
- So what do I do?

Oh! You'll be running around

telling strangers that your wife
is undead.

- I said I was sorry about Ron.
- No. You said, "I'm sorry, but..."

That's not an apology,
that's a rationalization.

Here's a way to remember it.
Inside of every "but" is an asshole.

That's very helpful.

However, we should drop it
because Boone will be here any minute.

Fine.

I think our kill room looks too much
like a kill room.

Yeah. Feels like we copied it
from a kill room catalogue.

- I could add a basket of seashells.
- Might warm it up.

Too late.

He's here. This is it.

Going pre-med, baby.

Holy shit! It's you guys. Kayla's friends.

Boone? Oh, I didn't recognize your voice
on the phone.

What a small world. Honey, it's Boone.

It is Boone! Hey, Boone. Booney Tunes.

- What's with all the plastic?
- Oh, it's a clean room.

It's what museums do
to protect their priceless artifacts.

- We used to be curators.
- Oh. Did you lose your jobs to Mexicans?

Wow.

You need to go over there right now
and look inside that trunk.

- Yeah, go on now. Lots to see...
- Not so fast.

What's wrong?

I gotta get my friend.
He's the expert on this stuff.

- He brought a friend?
- He didn't tell me

he was going to bring a friend.

- We can't kill two people.
- Well, we can't not kill them.

That trunk is empty.

And as soon as they go look inside,
they're gonna know something's up.

What if we tell them that's Hitler's
fruit basket and Goebbels' fern?

I know we're spitballing,
but that's terrible.

- Agreed.
- We're just gonna go for it. New plan.

I'm gonna kill the one guy
while you distract the other,

- and then I'm gonna kill him, too.
- Jesus. That's barely a plan.

We can do this. Come on,
these guys are Nazis,

we still have the moral high ground.

What if one of the Nazis
is in a wheelchair?

God, I hope that's an oddly-timed
philosophical question.

No. Boone's buddy is in a wheelchair.

Hmm. Did this just get easier or harder?

I don't know. Killing someone
in a wheelchair might be a hate crime.

Well, these are Nazis.
They invented hate crimes.

Still, killing him feels discriminatory.

Or is it discriminatory not to kill him?

He wouldn't wanna be treated unequally
because he's disabled.

Or would he want that
because then he would be alive?

I guess if we're on the fence,
we shouldn't do it.

Yeah, let's get them out of here,
then go read up on moral relativism.

- This is Kevin.
- Hey.

Boone says you guys are curators.
I bet you have great stuff.

Actually, there's been a change of plans.
We're no longer selling.

What the fuck are you talking about?
We drove all the way up from Long Beach.

I missed physical therapy.

You know how hard it is to book
a white nurse?

I hear the annoyance in your voice.

The demographics in that industry
are changing.

Still, we've decided to donate
our memorabilia to an orphanage.

A Nazi orphanage.

That's bullshit.

Well, actually, Kevin, we reserve
the right to refuse service to anyone.

Let go of my handles, bitch.

There must be something really good
in there

if you don't even want us to look.
Maybe we'll just take it.

Boone. Stop!

Think of the Nazi children!

I know what's going on here.

You were all set to sell
till you saw me in this wheelchair.

- What?
- This is discrimination.

You're discriminating against me.

We don't discriminate.
You people discriminate.

"You people"?

- You mean people in wheelchairs?
- No, I don't care about the wheelchair.

Shame on you,

treating a whole group of people
like they're second-class citizens.

You're worse than my Jew landlord.

Do you hear yourself?

I don't want to be treated differently
than anybody else, you gypsy-nosed cunt!

I mean...

May I show you
Hitler's favorite fruit basket?

- What the fuck?
- It's wicker.

Okay, then.

I'm going to step out.
Text me when you're done.

Stop fracking, start snacking.

Brownies, three for a dollar.
Less than it costs to make them.

- I feel like this is a waste of time.
- What are you talking about?

We only need to sell 30 more lemon squares
to buy a promoted Tweet.

Yeah, I'm out.

Abby, where are you going?

I promised Novak you'd join
Environmental Club.

No. I'm "Tray Girl." I need to do
something more intense than a Tweet.

Something that might actually
stop fracking, like...

chain myself to something,
or stop eating something,

or eat a lot of something.
I don't know. I'll figure it out.

Wait. Whatever it is, I'll do it with you.

Are you sure?

Yeah. As you saw with Novak,
I can handle intense.

I'm "Eric the Badass.
Son of Lisa the Pharma Rep..."

Friend of Abby."

You're all of those things.

- Let's get out of here.
- So, "Tray Girl"?

- Is that what people are calling you now?
- Some people.

Huh.

You're sighing a lot over there, chief.
No valentines in your mailbox?

Trying to find
a change of clothes for Sheila.

I just watched my wife
do something.

I've seen her do this thing before,
but it's not something I ever get used to.

Joel. I saw your gal eat her way
into my stomach.

You don't have to be coy.

She ripped two dudes' throats out
of their necks like they were Twizzlers.

Whoa.

You can't unsee that.

She gets this look in her eye.

The next thing you know,
she's yanking intestines out of these guys

like a magician pulling out scarves.

The other day, I came home
and my kitchen looked like

someone shot a person
out of a confetti gun.

- There was a dick in my fruit bowl.
- Oh.

The next morning,
I'm eating oatmeal at the same counter

like my life is
Leave it to Fucking Beaver.

I guess somebody did need to talk.

It's not like I can talk about this
to my friends.

I told this guy Ron about it,
and it turned into a shitstorm.

Yeah, it can be lonely
not having anyone to talk to.

For me, being buried alive
was kind of an isolating experience.

Again, sorry about that, but we
didn't know about killing the brain.

Joel...

"Sorry, but..." is not a real apology.

Well, I wouldn't call them a master race,
but delicious.

We did it.
Our new plan is going to work.

Listen...

I shouldn't have given you a hard time
about making friends with Anne.

Really? Where did that come from?

- Gary.
- It's just...

we live this secret life, and that
can make us feel alone sometimes.

So I get why you'd wanna reach out
to people.

- Is that why you talked to Ron?
- That doesn't excuse it.

I shouldn't have told him about you.

I was wrong. I'm sorry.

Full stop.

I want to kiss you so badly right now

but I have Nazi-breath.

Huh.

I was wrong.

Yes, we agreed on that.
Thank you for saying it.

No, I mean, I was wrong.
That's all anybody wants to hear.

So, tell us about
this undead woman that you met.

Yeah, what's her name?

She...

- wouldn't want me to tell you.
- Ron.

I'm sorry. I can no longer discuss it.

Buddy, you called us.
We UberPooled all the way up from Irvine.

And somebody talked to Tom
from Reseda the entire two hours.

Well, maybe somebody would like
to be heard for once.

Well, I hope it wasn't Tom
because he didn't get a word in.

So, Ron, if you don't give us
something useful,

I will personally ban you
from the Paranormal subreddit.

That's right.

You won't be able to post.
You won't be able to upvote or downvote.

- It'll be like you're dead.
- No. Please.

Buddy, we know this is real.

All right, there are people
in Santa Clarita looking for Serbian bile.

So whatever you can tell us
would be greatly appreciated.

All right.

I saw her husband
coming out of this restaurant yesterday

and he seemed very agitated.

- Agitated.
- Interesting.

We have to find these people.
It's our sacred task.

Excuse me.

I'm sorry, I hate to be that guy,
but I asked for my dressing on the side.