Acapulco H.E.A.T. (1998–…): Season 1, Episode 7 - Code Name: Mr. Paradise - full transcript

Tonight on
"Acapulco H.E.A.T."...

- ♪ Ah, can you feel it?

♪ Burn inside

♪ Yeah

♪ Making it hazy

♪ Wet fingers touching mine

♪ Making me crazy

♪ Out on the street

♪ I feel the heat

♪ Deep in the darkest night

♪ I feel the motion



♪ Keep all my love alive

♪ Come to the ocean

♪ Out on the street

♪ I feel the heat

♪ I feel, I feel

Dominic's Pizza.

How you doing?

You make deep-dish pizza?

No kidding, New York style, too?

I'd like to order me one.

Well, let me see, um, anchovies,

pepperoni, and Italian sausage.

Hey, dude, you don't
eat meat, do you?

I almost forgot.



Listen, champ, can you make
that a vegetarian?

Great.
The address?

221 Via Delmar.

Oh, and, uh, tell the kid
to just knock and come on in.

Thanks, champ.

Hey, dude,
your pizza is on its way.

Guess what?

If it's not here in 20 minutes,
it's free.

Compliments of Mr. Paradise.

- Enjoy.

- Two words, seven letters

for heaven's greet...

Heaven's greet...

I got it.

Saint Peter.

Hello.

That's a pretty big order.

You'll need a truckload of
enchiladas to guarantee results.

Three mil?
Consider it done. Where?

Puerto Vallarta.

Why not?
I hear it's paradise on Earth.

- What? What's so urgent?

- What is this stuff?

- It's addressed to you.

- In care of Acapulco H.E.A.T.

- I bet it's our new swimsuits!

- Swimsuits?
- Yeah.

- You ordered swimsuits
for ourboutique?

- Without consulting us?

- Well, I'm a partner, aren't I?

Hey, wait a minute,
wait a minute.

Why do you guys
get all the fun, huh?

- You think you're an expert
on current styles

and market trends?

- Wait a minute.
I'm a man, okay?

Listen, I know what looks good
on a woman.

When it comes to bikinis,
believe me,

I got the expertise, okay?

- Uh-oh.

These are supposed to be
swimming suits?

- Mannequins?!

- I didn't order mannequins.

- Maybe we can return them.

- It's too late.
I had to pay the invoice C.O.D.

- No, there's got to be
some kind of mistake.

- Is this your signature?

- Oh, yeah,
that's his chicken scratch.

Looks like we got you
by the ballpoint pen, Tommy.

- You got your catalogues
mixed up.

- Well, congratulations.

You just bought yourself
four dozen plastic women.

- And you owe
Acapulco H.E.A.T. $1599.

- Wait, wait, wait,
where in the hell

am I gonna get
that kind of money?

- And we would appreciate it...

if you removed your property.

- What am I gonna do with 'em?

- You could have a yard sale.

You wouldn't believe the things
I've gotten rid of

in yard sales.

So who is this Linus Hopper?

- Sir Linus, he's an old friend
from MI-5.

We did some high-maintenance
work for him a few years back.

- Nothing too intense.

The rescue operation's quick
in-and-out stuff.

- Yeah, and he returned the
favor by keeping us in the loop.

- How tight?
- Tight enough.

Sir Linus's information
is always right on target.

- What target is this about?
- Oh, I don't know.

He wouldn't tell me
on the phone.

- Sir Linus.
- Oh, Cat.

So very nice to see you again.

Thomas.

Keeping yourself fit
as usual, I see.

- Nicole, Joanna.

So what brings you
to Puerto Vallarta?

- Well, you might say
I'm pulling your chestnuts

out of the fire.
- Oh, how so?

- Oh, some rather
unfortunate business

looming on the horizon.

And, uh, since it was
in your yard,

I thought it best if you were
brought into the loop.

- Fire away.

- Several days ago,
we had an occasion to extract

a VIP defector from Libya.

Now, the story he told was
so bizarre

that it was practically
beyond belief.

However, we were able
to confirm it

with a source very close
to the top of the tree,

and we gave it an 85%.

- High enough to act on.
- Oh, indeed.

Seems the son of a high-ranking
member of Gaddafi's cabinet

got himself bagged
right here on your turf.

Oh, it was
an automobile accident.

He was making a night of it
at one of your social clubs.

- You mean the Cat House?

- The young man got himself
very drunk.

And instead of sending him
home in a cab,

they let him drive.

The madam, a woman called Vera,
tried to stop him,

but unfortunately, he drove his
car over a cliff into the ocean.

The father,
understandably upset,

has issued an order
that everyone connected

with the establishment on
that ill-fated night,

is to be killed.

- Everyone?

- Well, according
to our background check,

that includes 11 girls,
a staff of six,

and the proprietress,

for a total of 18.

- My God.

- Yes, my sentiments exactly.

- How can he doing something
like that?

- Well, that's what's
so extraordinary.

He's issued an open contract.

- How much is the contract for?
- Three million.

Or more precisely, uh,
166,666.66 per kill.

It's rather neat,
don't you think?

- My God, they're all sixes.
How Satanic.

- So anyone can collect?

- With verification,
apparently so.

A professional or amateur.

- Would have every psycho freak
in the world coming down here.

- Yes, it is rather worrisome,
isn't it?

This is a dossier on the psycho
freaks we know are coming.

I know it's just
the thin edge of the wedge,

but I thought it might
be helpful.

- Ladies, get some copies
of this dossier
to the police, okay?

- I'll get a patrol car sent
out here, too.

- Round the clock
'cause some of those hitters

might already be here.

- I'll check out the hotels
and the car rentals.

- Don't forget airlines,
cruise ships,

bus stations, everything.

We'll get a cab back.

- Right.

Yeah, yeah, I know what
you're thinking.

Look, I met Vera two years ago.

She saw me on the beach
taking out a couple goons

and wanted me to teach her girls
how to defend themselves.

Guy living in his truck.

You know, money's money,
so here I am.

- Hello, Vera.
- Hey, Tommy!

- How are you?
- How nice to see you.

- Alicia, Erica, Tina.

Don't get the wrong idea.
They're my students.

- Oh.

What is it you teach
your students?

- Tai chi.
- How nice.

- Vera, this is Nicole,
one of my, uh, partners.

- Hello.
- Pleasure.

- Can we, uh, talk to you
alone for a minute?

- Girls, do you mind?

So, what is it?

- We have reason to believe
that you're in danger.

- What kind of danger?

- A man has threatened
to kill you.

- Me?

- Well, not just you,
everyone here,

everyone that works for you.

Someone's playing a joke on you.

I mean, who would do
something like that?

- Look, six weeks ago,

a customer was killed
on the way home from here.

- An automobile accident.

- Yes, I... I remember.

Very tragic.

But what has that got
to do with us?

- His father has ordered
your executions.

Oh, God.

- Maybe you should shut down
for a while, send everyone home.

- I can't do that.

I have a business to run.

I mean, these people...
These people need money.

They have families to feed.

- We take this threat
very seriously.

- You take it seriously.
I can't.

I mean, I'm...
I'm sorry for the man's loss,

but he's out of his mind.

If we did everything every crazy
man asked us to do...

we'd all be out of our minds,
mm-hmm.

Now, I have work to do.

Why waste our time?

Why bust her chops trying
to change her mind?

She's not gonna do it.
- I agree.

There's no way she's gonna
close the business.

- Well, that means
a 24-hour stakeout.

- Who ordered pizzas?

- I didn't.
- Me neither.

- Well, it wasn't me.

- Oh, well, let's not look
a gift cow in the mouth.

- That's horse, Nicole,
not cow, horse.

- Horse, cow,
what's the difference?

Mine has anchovies,
and I love anchovies.

- Hey.

- Hi.
- Hi.

- I'm looking
for Pocco Degrasia.

- You found him.

- Well, hey, I'm Tommy.

I got a message
you wanted to see me?

- Yeah, you're the guy with
all those mannequins.

- Yeah, I guess...
guess I am.

- I might want to take
some of them off your hands.

How many you got?

- Four dozen.

- I don't think
I can use that many.

- They're not a match set.

I mean, you can buy
any number you want.

- Oh, good.
I was thinking...

maybe a dozen.

I have this, uh, sculpture piece
in mind.

Listen, Tommy, I'll give you
10% of what it sells for.

- Nothing up front?

- My stuff sells,
and I get good prices.

- 15% and you got a deal.

- Done.

- Delete one, Chief.

He's been scalped
at the bus station.

- Would you believe it?
She's never done it before.

Oh, look at her.

No man probably ever offered.

- Not that.

She's never killed anyone.

Agnes Gooch is an amateur.

- Agnes Gooch?

- Oh, I call her that because
she reminds me

of that poor lost soul
from "Auntie Mame."

You know what she told me?

She told me she was only gonna
kill just one of the girls.

She said the world
wouldn't miss one prostitute.

And she needs the money for her
father's sex-change operations.

- And you believed her?

- No.
I don't think so.

- Good.
You're learning fast.

What we got here is
an assortment of dirtbags.

My guys have full rap sheets.

Extortion, assault,
armed robbery, no homicides.

- So we're getting the amateurs
and the semi-pros,

but no heavy hitters.

- I think I've just seen
what you call a heavy hitter.

Punch up Mora Steronovitch.

- This one you need to spell.

S-T-E-R-O-N-O-V-I-T-C-H.

- Oof, if anyone deserves
a nickname, it's her.

No wonder she's a killer.

- That's her.

She just checked
into the Marriott Hotel

in Puerto Vallarta.

- She's credited
with over 20 kills.

Contract hitter
for Russian crime families.

This could be our guy.

Oh, more from Sir Linus.

Ooh, what is that?

- That is Aaron Moss.

Wrestled professionally
as Bullet Head.

Weapon of choice is the garrote.

Seven confirmed strangulations.

This one is Mr. Paradise.

Credited with over 40 kills.

No descriptions,
he's never been seen,

but he leaves a calling card.

He calls himself
Mr. Paradise because...

- Because that's where
he sends people...

To paradise.

- And according to Sir Linus,
he never fails and never misses.

This is the one
who sent us the pizzas.

- How do you know that?

- His last killing, a porno king
named Duke Solomon...

- He clipped a porno king
with a pizza?

Too many anchovies will do it.

- He rigged a shotgun
to the front doorknob,

then called to have
a pizza delivered.

- He sent uspizzas.

- He's just game-playing
with us.

- I don't like his games.

- You're not gonna like
this either.

Sir Linus says we should be
on the alert for this guy...

Hamm.
- Hamm?

Just Hamm?
- Just Hamm.

Looks like he's got
a stomach cramp.

- What's his M.O.?

- Weapons of choice...
Nine millimeter and his hands.

Martial arts expert
and former member of S.C.A.R.S.

- S.C.A.R.S., what's that?

- Special Combat Aggressive
Reactionary Systems.

It's a martial art
developed by the military.

Supposed to be undefeatable.

I know, the guy looks
like King Kong,

but he's just a man,
just like me.

- Well, let's keep an eye
on this one.

She could go
into action at any time.

Thanks, champ.

See ya in hell, pal.

Oh, God, I'm sorry.

I should've listened to you.

- That's okay.

After dark, we'll take
all of you to a safe house.

Don't worry, we'll take care
of everything.

- Why didn't he shoot me?

- Lucky for you he missed
and hit Mr. Bullet Head.

- Perhaps he did not miss.

Perhaps Mr. Bullet Head was
his target.

- Well, now, wait a minute.
Who says the killer's a he?

- I do.

Got his calling card.

- "Compliments of Mr. Paradise."

- Now we know he's here.

Remember what Sir Linus said?

- He never misses.
- Right.

- Which means he killed exactly
who he intended to kill.

- Well, the question is why?

- He's up to something.
What, I don't know yet.

- Well, whatever it is,

we're not gonna make it
easy on him.

- I want to hire your services.

- My friend's here.

- Ah, food, I'm so hungry.

- Here you go, ladies, for you.

And for you.

- Oh, sorry, sweetheart.
- It's all right.

- Ass.

- Thanks.

Get away from there!

"Acapulco H.E.A.T." will be
right back.

That boat is a half mile away.

- No one can make that shot.

- No one did.

She wasn't killed by a gunshot.

- Then how was she killed?

- HMX... high-mass explosive.

Newest thing in plastic
explosive.

A piece the size of a marble
could wipe out this place.

- But her chair didn't blow up.
That is a bullet hole.

- It's not a bullet hole.

He used a piece of HMX.

The size of a dime, 8180 chip.

It fires a flat pellet

at the force of 50,000 feet
per second.

- How do you know all this?
Because you were once a spy.

- No, I read it in
"Solider of Fortune" magazine.

- You're kidding.

- The man who stumbled,
he grabbed the chair.

- My God, could... could that
have been Mr. Paradise?

- This woman and Bullet Head
were both professional killers.

Do you realize what he's doing?

- He's... he's killing people.

- Why these people and not
the girls from... Amore?

- That's a good question.

- He's getting rid
of all the competition.

That way he can keep all
the money for himself.

- Oh.

This guy's not only dangerous,
he is greedy.

- Pocco?
- Yo, Tommy.

You're just in time
for the unveiling.

- Yeah, I'm not staying, I...

- Ladies and gentlemen,

let me present to you
a new tableau...

by Pocco Degrasia.

Surf...

sand...

and soap.

Come on.

So, Tommy, what do you think?

- It's, uh...

It's interesting.
It's just... different, like.

That's it, it's very different.

- Exactly, exactly.

You have a very discerning eye.

- Yeah.

Cool daddio, it's really cool.

- I agree.
Very cool.

- Do you think somebody will
actually buy this piece of...

art?

- I don't see why not.

- Where... where would
they put it?

- Anywhere.

- Anywhere?

- Yeah, it's an original
Degrasia, isn't it?

- Yeah.

It's an original all right.

- Thank you.

Can I help you?
- You're Cat, right?

- Yes, I am.

Question still stands,
can I help you?

- Maybe the question is,
how can I help you?

- Okay, how can you help me?

- The name's Brad...
Lewis.

- Hmm, that's a very nice
picture, Mr. Lewis.

- Brad, please.
Call me Brad.

- I.D. photos are usually
the pits... Brad.

- Sir Linus and I are
old buddies.

And he thought,
well, if you needed any...

- Oh, I get it.

Your old buddy sent you
on a rescue mission.

- I don't think so, not from
what he's told me about you.

- Hmm.
Hey, Nicole.

This is Mr. Brad Lewis
of the FBI.

He's here offering us
his brain wizards.

Isn't that nice?

- Ooh, that's very nice.

- That is, of course, uh,
if we need them.

- Ah, but of course.

We can always appreciate
his brain wizards,

if we need them.

- You might be interested in
some forensics we've developed,

but only if you need them.

Look, why don't
we declare a truce?

Have a little bite, and I'll
cover what we've got.

- I'll stay and watch the store.
You two go.

You can update me afterwards.

- Well...

- Gabby, hi.

Listen, I was looking
at the numbers,

and I think we need
about 10 bottles of gin.

We have enough whiskey
and vodka.

Okay, that's it, thanks.

- Mmm...
- Thanks for lunch.

I really should be getting back.

- Well, you be very careful.

We're dealing
with a dangerous character.

- Well, yes, but we're working
in the dark.

I mean, if I just had some idea
of what he looked like.

- You got a couple minutes?

Come by my room.

I'll show you a photo we think
may be Paradise.

- A photo?
- Not a very good one.

We're having it enhanced.

But it's something to go on.

- Are you sure
you're not just inviting you

to see your etchings?

- First the photo...

then the etchings.

Have you seen Cat?

- I thought she was
with you guys.

- She had lunch
with this federal agent.

- Was it the FBI?

- He said he had information
about the contract killers.

They left the cafe
two hours ago.

- So what's the problem?

- She was supposed to meet us
an hour ago.

She hasn't called.
- No one has seen them since.

- She would've called.
- Yeah.

Well, let's go find her.

- We cannot leave
these people alone.

Someone has to stay here.

- With all this competition
out of the way,

Paradise can make
his move at any time.

- Talk to the captain, Tommy.

Ask him if he can leave
a couple of extra men here.

- Double on.

I promised to show you a photo
of Mr. Paradise.

Well, I'm a man
who keeps his word.

My driver's license.

Terrible likeness.

But like you said,
I.D. photos are the pits.

Now you're probably wondering
why you're here, right?

It's nothing personal,
sweetheart.

Oh, ow!

You're just a distraction.

Your friends are gonna find out
who Brad Lewis is.

It's just a matter of time
before they show up here.

Now...

the question
you want to ask is...

are they going to get here
in time?

You know...

my relatives think
I'm in the travel business.

Ain't that a riot?

Paradise Travel Agency?

Paradise Travel Agency,
ain't that funny?

Ice flight,
it means travel, okay,

to the pearly white gates.

I know, some people think
I'm a wise-ass schizo.

- Hmm.
- They're right.

I am.

The muzzle velocity's faster
than the speed of sound.

You won't even hear the shot.

You'll never know what hit you.

Bah!

I got it.

Buenos dias, room service.

You can't be hungry.
We just had lunch.

Hey, I got just the thing.

Listen, room service,

can you send up
a pitcher of margaritas?

Great.
Oh, and, uh...

tell the boy to just knock
and come on in.

We're dying of thirst.

Ah, I just thought of something.

Wouldn't it be ironic
if your friends showed up here

before room service?

Catch you on the flipside,
sweetheart.

"Acapulco H.E.A.T." will be
right back.

- What'd you find out?

- I checked registration.

There is no Brad Lewis
registered.

- Maybe there's no Brad Lewis,
but somebody's registered.

Housekeeping said they saw Cat
going into one of the cottages

with a man, number 401.

- Hola, registration?

Hey, Pablo, this is Nicole.

Listen, who's registered
in number 401?

Thanks.

Milton Eden.

- Don't you get it?
- No.

- Eden could be
an alias for Paradise.

Of course.

In Milton's "Paradise Lost."

- Aha.

Come on, let's go have a talk
with Uncle Miltie.

Excuse me, where's...?

- Over there.

- Thanks.

- Hear anything?

- Hey, let me try something.

Room service.

- Ah, there's no one in here.

- Cat, are you in there?

- Ahh!
- Ahh!

- Remember the pizza?

What if Cat's tied up in there
rigged with a gun

like that porno king?

Oh, my God.

- We can try the back.

- Yeah.

- Oh, look, look,
the room service waiter.

Tommy, hurry!

- Ow, ow.

- That creep set me up!

That son of a bitch!

- Come on, easy, girl, easy.

- Don't easy me.

Have you seen Paradise?
Where is he?

We haven't got a second to lose.

We have to get
to the safe house now.

Now!

- Uh...

Sorry.

- Holy cow!

Don't touch anything, okay?

I'm sure it's all booby-trapped.

- We have to disarm it.
- You can't!

Not without the code.

Oh, my God, it's beeping!

- Joanna, did that thing start
counting down by itself?

- Uh, it has to be activated
with some kind of remote.

- Okay, well,
it's got to be nearby.

- We have to get these girls
out of here.

- No, there isn't time.

- Hey, where are you going?

- To get the code!

Okay, calm down.

They'll be right back.

I promise.

Guys, hurry, hurry.

- Whoa!

- Give it to me.

- I want the code.

- Put an offer on the table,
sweetheart.

- Yeah, I'll give you an offer,
the code or...

Next time you sing soprano.

- I don't think so.

It's not in your nature to shoot
a man in cold blood.

- You're right.

Let's leave it to chance.

One...

Two...

Three...
- All right, all right.

6-6...

6.

- I should've figured.

- It's finished.
- Fini, fini, finito.

Stay tuned for more
"Acapulco H.E.A.T."

- Tommy, I got something for ya.

- Whoo.

$1800?
- Yeah!

I sold the sculpture for 12,000.

You got any mannequins left?

- Do I? Too many.
- Good.

My next piece is going to be,
uh, soccer match

between nudes.

- Nudes?
- Yeah, without clothes,
you know.

- Now, you see, that, that's
what I consider art.

- Mmm.
- You would.

We'll take that
if you don't mind.

- I think Tommy has
some change coming.

- I think we'll count it
as credit.

- I think we should let Tommy
screw up some more orders.

It could be good for business.

- Women.