Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013–…): Season 1, Episode 4 - M.E. Time - full transcript

Jake meets an attractive Medical Examiner, but their relationship slows down her work, much to his colleagues' annoyance. Meanwhile, Amy desperately tries to impress Holt.

I'm so glad we could
finally do this.

I know, Kylie says you're
always stuck at the precinct.

Yeah.

Speaking of,
this is work.

Sorry.

What's up, Peralta?

Captain called.
He needs everybody back.

There's a lead on
the nightingale strangler.

We're looking for a white male,
5'10", medium build,

brown hair, small scar
on his right cheek.

Okay.



His M.O. Is he finds
lonely women with no friends,

poisons their food,

and then guts 'em
in his van.

It's pretty gnarly.

Last seen wearing
a salmon shirt, grey blazer,

and witnesses have said

he has trouble
fitting lettuce in his mouth.

Okay.
Where are you?

Apparently has the world's
smallest penis

and doesn't know
how to use it...

Hi, there,
I'm Jake Peralta,

Amy's boss.
That's not true.

What are you
doing here?

I'm here
on a date.



Who is
now leaving.

Worth it.
Have a great night.

- Your boss seems really nice.
- He's not my boss.

Yes, I am!

And with a record five felonies
solved in one week,

Peralta pulls ahead.

Did you guys hear
that I solved

five felonies in a week?

We heard.

Really?
How?

Five felonies
in one week!

Light 'em up, Boyle.

That's the sweet taste
of triumph.

- You should shower more.
- Yep.

Updates on open cases.

I just got a DOA
on Bessimer street.

You're the primary,
you're in charge.

Take Diaz and Peralta.

Yes.

My fantasy threesome.

Of cops on a case.

Detectives, our monthly crime
statistics are due.

I want all paperwork on
your closed cases by tomorrow.

Scully, you can just write

"I didn't close any"
on a piece of paper.

You got it.

I already got my paperwork in,
Captain.

Then I guess this little
reminder isn't for you.

Wow, looks like he hates you
even more than me.

No, he doesn't.

We have a good relationship.

We're on the same page.

Something to share with the rest
of us, Santiago?

No, sir, I wasn't... Peralta was
the one that was talking.

God, you must have been
the worst fourth grader ever.

Joke's on you.

I skipped fourth grade.

Santiago, anything else?

No.
No?

Uh-uh.

Dismissed.

Hey, Boyle. I know you haven't
had Peralta

as a secondary
in a while.

Be careful.

It can be rough.

Hey, saboteur,
that's not true.

I happen to be
a very good secondary.

So you were just
borrowing those cars?

Ask about his bank account.

Ask about his bank account!

Ask him about
his bank...

Account.

You should ask him
about his bank account.

Captain,
Santiago broke the glass.

You can't
give up control,

you're terrible at taking
your primary's orders,

you just do
whatever you want.

I could go
on and on and on.

Is something no lover
of yours has ever said.

Blammo.

Look, I can be
an amazing secondary

and I'll prove it.

I know you will,
Jake-in-the-box.

Okay, don't ever
call me that again.

I'm driving.
We should leave now.

Carry my bag.

But you should pick the music,
primary.

♪ Consider yourself
part of the furniture ♪

♪ There isn't a lot
to spare ♪

♪ Who cares

♪ Whatever we've got
we share ♪

It's a great picture, sir.

I hate it.

Me too.

So I have an eyewitness in
the purse-snatcher case.

Only problem is,
the sketch artist is out sick.

How do you want me
to proceed?

Figure it out, Santiago.
It's your case.

Yes.
I will do that.

Thank you.

Are you bowing?

No.

This is how I walk.

What do you need,
Quasimodo?

I gotta go meet
with Boyle and Peralta.

Is there something wrong
with the Captain?

It seems like
he's in a bad mood.

I don't know.
Who can tell?

You all right,
Captain?

Tough weekend?

I went to Barbados
with my husband.

We wove hats
out of Palm fronds

and swam with
the stingrays.

I've never been happier.

Guy's impossible to read.
Don't even try.

That is, without question,

the funniest story
I've ever heard.

Wow.

This guy must have
weighed 500 pounds.

I think we have an idea
what killed him.

Spoiler alert:
It was not starvation.

What do we got?

Sorry,
sorry.

You're the primary,
you're in charge.

Frank Patterson.

58 years old, married,
no children.

Wife found him this morning
and called it in.

Any signs of forced entry
or a struggle?

No.

You sure about that?

Looks like maybe his belt

had a pretty epic struggle
with his stomach.

What are you thinking,
Boyle?

All ri...
I'm calling natural causes.

We got heart medicine over here,

home defibrillator.

And a frequent customer
gift basket

from the cardiac wing
of Brooklyn Methodist.

This case is open
and shut.

Just like his mouth was,
constantly.

That was
my last fat joke.

Okay?

Diaz, check and see
if there's

any more meds
in the bathroom.

Boyle, see what
you can find in the bedroom.

I'll take the kitchen.

Yep, that's exactly
what I was gonna say.

It's... it's so weird.

He's so good at knowing

what I'm gonna
tell him to do,

he just does it.
It's weird.

Hey, sergeant.

You know how
you're really good at doodling?

I know you think
you're complimenting me,

but calling them doodles
is an insult.

You a big fan
of Picasso's doodles?

Sorry.

Can you please
draw a perp for me?

The sketch artist
is out sick

and the Captain
wants this done right away.

He's in a bad mood.

Is he?

I can never read him.

You look chipper, Captain.

You have a fun weekend?

There was a small fire
in my home.

I lost many photo albums
of treasured memories.

I'm devastated.

I'm telling you,

he and I have a connection

and there is something
bothering him.

Can you help me out?

Great.

Ma'am, can you please
describe the perp

to sergeant Jeffords?

Yeah, he had,
um, dark, curly hair,

and a neck tattoo...

Wait, wait, wait.
Slow down.

Let's start with the eyes.

Were they desperate?
Lonely?

Did they betray heartache?

They were brown.

Do you even
want your purse back?

So far you've managed
to tell three fat jokes

and completely
bulldoze Charles.

Is that your idea
of being a good secondary?

First off,
I've told four.

And second,
I'm helping.

I mean, I started cataloguing
the contents of the fridge,

but it turns out there's not
enough paper on earth.

Five fat jokes.

Thanks, Arnie.

See, Arnie thinks
I'm doing great.

Arnie, shut up.

Jake, for once,
just hang back

and let Boyle do his job.

Fine.

Unless I get a direct order
from Boyle

I will stand
here motionless

like a wise,
old oak tree.

You look like an idiot.

I'm so sorry for your loss,
Mrs. Patterson.

Can you talk about
what happened after breakfast?

I took the dog
for a walk.

When I came back,
he was dead.

I'm just in shock.

We were going on a cruise
together next week.

He had pre-purchased
the unlimited soda package.

I'm sure the soft drink industry
mourns his passing.

Motion reactivated.

Hey.

Detective Jake Peralta.

Dr. Rossi.
I'm the new medical examiner.

Don't let me
get in your way.

I'm sure
you have a lot to do.

Actually, I've been given
a direct order

to do nothing, so.

What brings you here...

Okay.
All right.

Sorry.
Sorry.

- You all right?
- What's up?

How's the Patterson case
looking?

It looks like
natural causes,

but I'll know for sure
once I get

the autopsy results
tomorrow.

Jake volunteered to follow up
with the M.E.

My man is all over it.

I'm really glad you could
sneak away from your case.

Well, it's technically
not really my case,

but on the plus side, I have
all the time in the world.

- Oh.
- To you.

And to the ginormous,
dead fat man

who brought us together.

Hey, Jake.

Have you heard anything
from the M.E.?

She hasn't sent
the autopsy report.

Oh, that's strange.

Maybe probably
a bunch more people died

and she got super busy?

That's definitely
what happened.

Okay, just let me know
when she calls.

You got it.

Hey, can I
ask you guys something?

Can you keep a secret?

Do you know anything
about my life?

No, I do not.
Good point.

Okay, so you know the new
medical examiner?

I kinda had sex
with her last night.

What?

Oh, sorry, I forgot
who I was talking to.

Sex is something that two adults
do with their bodies

when they're attracted
to each other.

He's right, Santiago.
Do you not know that?

I meant,
what were you thinking?

She was supposed
to be doing an autopsy

for your primary, Charles.

The guy died
of natural causes.

What's the big deal?

Anyways,
back to last night.

As you would imagine,
I'm normally up

for pretty much anything
in the bedroom,

but I can't tell if what
happened was weird or sexy.

Wait.
Close your eyes.

Oh, okay.

Shh.

Shh, shh, shh,
shh, shh, shh.

What are you doing?

I like 'em cold.

Okay...

Not that weird.

Cold?
Like a dead guy?

You're reading into that.

Am I?

You have a really nice chest.

Thank you.

I'd love to crack it open

and get my hands
all over your organs.

Okay...

I wonder how much
your appendix weighs.

Oh.

It's inflamed.

All right.

Wait, that's bad,
right?

- Yeah, it is.
- Oh, no.

Ew!

Please tell me
you ran out of there.

No.

For some reason
I kinda started getting into it.

Oh, what do we have here?

A 34-year-old caucasian male
who is dead.

Very dead.

Mmm.

Cause of death?

Initial assessment:
Blunt force trauma.

But what do I find when I probe
a little farther?

Bruising around the neck.

And ocean water
in the lungs.

Ooh, how long
have you been dead, body?

Four days.

Gross.
Bloating. Odors.

Oh, uh, 24 hours.

Perfect.

Here we go.

Stop, stop, stop!
Weird, weird, weird!

Rosa, what's your call?
Weird or sexy?

Weird.

I knew it.

- But also kinda sexy?
- No. Weird.

But more importantly,
that's what you were doing

while Charles was grinding
through paperwork?

Told ya.

Worst secondary
in the unit.

What do you guys
want from me?

You know, I take over a crime
scene, I'm a bad secondary.

I blow off work to have sex
with a hot coroner,

I'm a bad secondary.

I can't win.

What are you guys
talking about?

Um, just weird
sex stuff

that has nothing
to do with work.

I once had sex
on a futon.

And it was in couch mode.

Hmm.

Sarge, all of these
are fine.

How much longer are you
gonna work on this?

It's questions like that

that made Van Gogh
cut off his ear.

You can't put a clock
on art.

Ten minutes.

Great.

Let's catch this guy

so we can give Holt
some good news.

I wanna cheer him up.

Well, how do you
even know he's in a bad mood?

I mean, it's impossible
to read that guy.

This is the most incompetent,
worthless report

I have ever read
in my life!

Get your act together
or, so help me God,

you won't live
to see retirement!

It's like,
"what's that guy thinking?"

You know?

I can read him.

And if anyone
can figure out

what's bothering him,
it's me.

He and I
are exactly the same.

Except that I'm younger,
Cuban,

female, single,
and straight.

Captain Holt's
not gay.

Captain Holt's gay?

Seriously, man,
just retire.

Boyle, where's my paperwork
on that DOA?

Still waiting on
the autopsy report.

Supposed to come in
first thing this morning,

- but so far, nothing.
- This is unacceptable.

I'll call the M.E.
and find out what happened.

Eh, bup-bup-bup-bup-bah.

That's not necessary, sir.

For the record, I think it's
natural causes anyway,

but I'm also
the secondary in this case.

It's my responsibility,
so I will head on down there

and pick up the report.

Good.

But don't ever
bup-bup-bup-bup me again.

Right,
I don't know...

Bup-bup-bup-bup...
Bup-bup-bup.

Just go.

Yep, I am going to regret
teaching him that one.

Rosa, can I
show you something?

What's up?

Patterson's wife told me

that they were going
on a cruise together next month,

but her credit card bill shows
only one ticket booked.

Either she's lying
or she knew he was gonna die.

Huh, nice find, Boyle.

This could be a murder.

Where's that autopsy?

Jake went down to the M.E.
an hour and a half ago.

He still hasn't
got back to me.

Jake went to get
the autopsy report?

I know.
Isn't he the best?

I mean, he's really coming into
his own as a secondary.

I wanna get him
something nice.

Does he come across more
as a Pinot guy

or more of a Shiraz?

You know what?

We better go down there.

See what's holding him up.

Good call.

Detectives.

Hello.

Shirt's buttoned wrong.

Huh.
So it is.

Well, how can I help you?

Uh, we came by
to get that autopsy report.

- Hmm.
- Is Detective Peralta here?

I haven't seen him.

Thanks for coming by.

Hold on.

Found him.

Ah, thank goodness
you're here.

I am so lost.

Do you know where
the vending machines are?

Look, it's not
what it seems like.

Yes, it is.

Yes, it is.
Here's what happened.

I came down here
to get the autopsy report

and in conclusion,
here we are.

Now if you'll
excuse me...

Cut the crap, Peralta.

Look, I'm sorry I slowed down
the autopsy results,

but everyone knows
it's natural causes.

Not anymore.
We think it could be a murder.

Wait,
like a murder murder,

or, like,
his mouth murdered him

by making him
eat so much food

that his heart exploded?

Murder murder.

We need the autopsy
to be sure.

I have not gotten
to that yet.

You guys have been down here
for two hours.

What, did you
have sex 40 times?

40 times?

No, Charles,
like...

Look, I'm sorry.

We didn't know
it was a homicide.

Well, it shouldn't matter.

I'm your primary
and I asked you to do something.

So if it's okay,
I'd like to be upset with you.

It's more than okay.

It's okay times two.

Now, Dr. Rossi,

will you please perform
the autopsy for us right now?

Actually,
with a body this size,

I'd need my assistant,

and I gave him
the rest of the afternoon off

when Jake showed up.

Guilty.

Okay, fine.

I will act
as your assistant

because I am
a wonderful secondary.

How gross could it be?

Just gonna need you
to hold open

this chest cavity
for me.

Oh.
Wow.

Okay, I can do that.
It's no big deal.

Just like holding open
some slimy elevator doors.

For a family of aliens...
Oh, my God.

Yep, there are some signs
of stress on the heart,

but that's not surprising.

Oh, will you look
at that stomach lining?

God,
that is just a beaut.

Ugh.

All right.

I'm gonna need you
to go ahead

and take your hand...

Yep, get it down there.

Get it down there.

Get it on in.

There you go.

Oh, that is so big.

- Caught him?
- Yes, sir.

He was easy to pick up.

He looked just like
the sergeant's sketch.

You could be
a professional artist, boss.

Like on the boardwalk.

You think I should
draw caricatures?

That's garbage art!

I don't draw giant-head people
on surfboards!

I'm saying you could.
You're that good.

Captain, the credit really goes
to sergeant Jeffords.

Without his refined
artistic skills...

Finish the paperwork
by noon.

I want it included
in the crime stats.

I gotta say, I always hate
how I look in pictures,

but that is so flattering.

Also, I'm innocent.

You got the wrong guy.

Shut up.

Sarge, I need you to do
one more drawing for me.

What?

It'll cheer the Captain up.

He'll be over the moon.

He may even lean back
in his chair a little

and nod slightly.

This is a lot
of pressure.

If I'm gonna do this,
it has to be done right.

Scully, get me my oils.

Paint or massage?

I'll get both.

You know, this is one
of the most unhealthy people

I've ever seen.

It's like cutting

into a big,
overstuffed ravioli.

Sure you want me
to keep digging?

Unfortunately, yes.

If the primary on this case
says it's a murder,

we have to treat it
like a murder.

Okay.
Here we go.

Oh.

Wanna see
something cool?

No.

Here it is.

That's what
I'm talking about.

Listen.

Goosh.

Mm-hmm.

You know
what that was?

That was the air releasing from
the large intestine.

In the biz, we call that

"the death bubble."
It's pretty cool.

- Here, you wanna hold it?
- No!

Knock knock.

You can knock
with your hands.

Saying it
is ridiculous.

Okay.

Well, I know
you're having a bad day...

I think
you're having a bad day.

So, to cheer you up
I had Terry do this painting

to replace
the photo you hated.

I threw away the photo because
I think it's ostentatious

to hang pictures
of yourself.

Especially when you haven't
earned a place on the wall.

- Oh.
- But you would have me

hang a baroque oil painting
of myself

like I'm
a north Korean dictator.

What?
No ornate gold frame?

Why am I not astride
my noble steed, clad in armor?

We could add a horse.

You just wasted your time,
Terry's time,

and now my time on this

when you should
have been filing a report

on the purse-snatcher.

Oh, I did.

It's already in the system.

- Oh.
- Mm-hmm.

Good.

Thank you.
Dismissed.

Here are the contents
of his stomach.

Oh, that's where
they went.

And here's
the really cool part.

Get in here, look at
the scarring on this liver.

Cause of death: Poison.

Ingested.

Boyle was right.

All right,
I'm gonna go tell him.

Yeah, you could.

Or you could
stay for a post-mortem.

Nope.
Sorry.

The spell has worn off.

No more weird dead guy sex
for me ever again.

It's nothing personal,

I just think sex
is for the living.

Isn't that right, buddy?

Oh, my God,
he has no eyes!

Oh, that is terrifying.

What now, Santiago?

I figured out
why you've been so tense.

You're worried about
the monthly crime statistics.

That's not your concern.

I just checked
the stats myself.

Our arrest numbers haven't
improved since you got here.

They're exactly the same
as last month.

If this is your strategy
to cheer me up,

it's backfiring.

Sir, I don't think
you realize

how good flat numbers are.

I went back 12 years.

A precinct's numbers
almost always get worse

under new leadership,
but ours didn't.

That's a win.

It's just your first month.

Morale is much higher,
people are working harder,

you're well on your way

to earning a place
on that wall.

Thank you, Santiago.

You know, we're birds
of a feather, you and I.

I hate cliches.

Cliches are the worst.
Okay.

We know you killed
your husband.

That cruise you planned
was for one,

plus the autopsy showed
clear signs of poison.

And for the record,
the inside of his body

- was very gross.
- Noted.

My only question is,
why'd you do it?

Um, he drove me to it.

He had affair after affair.

He was a real don Juan.

Permission to make a fat joke?
Granted.

Are you sure you didn't mean
"don flan"?

Thanks.
Nice.

Mrs. Patterson,
you are under arrest

for the murder
of your husband.

Sarge, that painting
is tight.

It's terrible.

The brushwork
is sloppy.

There's poor use
of negative space.

I'm a fraud.

Not at all.

I'd like to take this home
for my husband.

He'll be glad
you made me look so happy.

I was trying
to make him look serious.

I still can't read him.

- No one can.
- I can.

He likes it.

Nice job, Boyle.

- You nailed it.
- Here.

Of course he did.
He's a great primary.

And I'm sorry
I was such a bad number two.

I may,
for the first time,

have been a bit of a jerk,

and I'm sorry.

What a wonderful moment.

I agree, it is
a wonderful moment.

What a wonderful moment.
Rosa, do you agree?

It's all right.
It's all right.

- ♪ Wonderful moment
- ♪ Moment

♪ Between two guys

Oh.

D.A. Wants to set bail
for Patterson's wife.

They need me to send them
all the files.

I'm the secondary.

I'll go back there
and do the busy work.

You guys stay here
and keep celebrating.

You sure you're not
just sneaking off

for more weird
dead guy sex?

We will never
speak of that again.

Never.

Okay, bye.

God.
Crazy day, huh?

I hate small talk.

Let's drink in silence.

Perfect.