Brooklyn Nine-Nine (2013–…): Season 8, Episode 7 - Game of Boyles - full transcript
Terry, Jake and Charles visit the Boyle Family Farm; Amy and Rosa help out Capt. Holt.
Good morning,
Cousin Tommy.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Mel.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Sam.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Tommy.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Becca.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Sam.
I love you.
Good morning,
Pappy Boyle.
I love you.
Good morning, Becca.
I love you.
Ooh, extra-long hug.
What got into you
this morning, Pappy?
Pappy?
Pappy!
Oh, Charles.
I'm so sorry about
your great-uncle Pappy.
You holding up okay?
I've been managing.
Mmm...
Have you though?
Number two,
step up.
Say, "Charles,
it's Pappy.
I'll always love you."
Okay. Uh,
"Charles, it's Pappy.
I'll always love you."
Then why did
you leave me?
Anyway, thanks
for coming with me
to the funeral.
I think we're
all packed.
I just got to go
grab the coffin.
Wait, why are you
bringing the coffin?
I brought a coffin
to my nana's funeral
on a whim,
and it was a big hit.
So now, guess who's
the coffin cousin?
Got to say, Terry,
I'm a little surprised
you're coming to this.
Honestly,
I need a break
from the kids.
Cagney and Lacey
keep trying to trick me
into falling down
the stairs on TikTok.
Terry can't sprain
another ankle.
Well, I, for one,
am pumped to be going.
To a funeral?
I'm so bored, Terry.
I've been suspended
for 87 days.
Mac gets dropped off
at day care,
and I just sit at home
playing Animal Crossing.
But no one will buy
my bugs or fossils.
I'm desperate for some
normal human interaction.
Coffin delivery!
Okay, fine. It doesn't
have to be normal or human.
Any interaction
will work.
Yo. You forgot
your lunch.
Oh.
Thank you, Diaz.
Sir, I didn't realize
you were still
staying at Rosa's.
I thought
couple's counseling
was going well.
Not anymore.
At Kevin's request,
I offered to reduce
my work hours by 26%.
Kevin countered
with 50
which I countered
with 30.
Then Kevin says 40...
Seems like a lot
of math for therapy.
That's what
Dr. Cheryl said.
Anyway, Kevin refuses
to budge from 36%.
And I'm starting to worry
that I might lose to him.
You mean lose him.
No. Lose to him.
Therapy is
a chess match.
And I will prevail.
Or it's about saving
your marriage.
You should make
a grand romantic gesture.
Ugh, so dumb.
Seriously?
From the woman
who loves Nancy
Meyers movies?
Yeah. Here's what
I've learned as a PI.
People suck,
everyone cheats,
and love is an illusion.
Nancy Meyers is a fool,
and Holt should start dating.
What?
You heard me.
It's the only way
you're gonna beat Kevin.
I'm thinking about it.
I'm considering it,
and I've decided.
I'm in.
Here it is.
Pappy Boyle's farm.
I spent every summer
here as a kid.
Got to say,
it's nicer than
I was expecting.
Pappy did well
for himself.
You know, he went
to business school
in New York.
He got a job
in Wall Street.
And one day his hand
got caught in
a subway door.
And he was dragged
from Times Square
into Queens.
Largest settlement
in city history.
Pappy should've used
that cash on pest control.
There's giant
rats everywhere.
Those are nutria, Terry.
They're nothing like rats.
They have
meatier haunches,
and their teeth
are more orange.
You know, nutria
are actually great pets.
They're affectionate
and smart.
They know how
to open doors.
Plus, you can
milk them.
But... Should you?
Pappy drank nutria milk,
and he was fit as a fiddle.
Anyway, you got
to see the house.
I can't wait to show you
the rug I was born on.
Sure it's been
cleaned since then.
Charles Boyle,
I love you.
Sam Boyle,
I love you.
Where's that dead body?
He's in the barn,
and he looks adorable.
Ah, terrific.
And everything's set
for the funeral?
There's one little
issue. We can't
find Pappy's will.
What?
He wanted
to leave the farm
to the Council of Cousins,
but if we don't find
those papers,
it goes to
Cousin Lyndon.
Oh, no.
Who's Cousin Lyndon?
Pappy's son.
He's the black sheep
of the family.
Wait, so we have
a wealthy patriarch
who mysteriously died,
a missing will,
and a black sheep set
to inherit everything?
Am I the only one
who suspects
foul play here?
He didn't die
mysteriously.
He was 93.
He was fit
as fiddle, Terr.
From all
the nutria milk.
Don't be ridiculous.
No Boyle would
ever commit murder.
Boyles don't even
get mad at each other.
Except in that rare instance
of cousin-on-cousin jealousy.
You're just bored
from your suspension
and desperate
to find a case to work.
No. That's not it.
I'm just telling you,
something doesn't
smell right here.
Oh, yeah.
That's Pappy's body.
Cousin Mel did
the embalming in here,
and I think she forgot
to add something.
Well, that's
a disturbing
revelation.
Hey. What's going on?
I'm helping Holt
pick a dating site.
Oh, this looks good.
PhDs only.
Uh, actually
in this context,
PHD stands for
Pretty Huge .
Oh, my.
I can only assume
that MDs only stands
for Medium .
Rosa, can I talk
to you for a second?
What the hell
are you doing?
Why are you trying to get
Holt and Kevin to break up?
I'm trying to get Holt
and Kevin back together.
He and Kevin
are perfect
for each other.
He just needs
to realize that.
Once he sees
what other trash
is out there,
he's gonna go
running straight back
into Kevin's arms,
just like in
a Nancy Meyers movie.
So you still love
Nancy Meyers?
I will never
turn my back
on Nancy Meyers.
Okay. I'm in.
Let operation
"Lucky Number Kevin" begin.
I'm out.
No, no, no. We don't
have to call it that.
Okay, then I think
I'll finish up
by saying
Pappy Boyle
was the best hugger.
Which is surprising
because he lost his
hand in the subway.
But he always said,
"You don't hug
with your hands,
"you hug with your heart.
"And your groin."
He got that groin involved.
Uh, a lot of groin talk
for a eulogy.
Everyone, there's
something you need
to see in the barn.
The game is afoot.
Pappy Boyle was 93.
Who would've suspected
that his death stemmed
from anything other than
the cruel embrace
of Father Time?
To suggest as much
might get someone
labeled a crackpot,
a kook,
someone that's "bored
with their suspension."
Can you cut the
Harriet the Spy windup?
It stinks in here.
What you're smelling, Terry,
is duplicity and deceit.
I think
it's actually
Pappy's organs.
Sam, you're kind of messing
with my flow right now.
Point is, I was
examining the body,
and I found something.
Classic ulceration
and desquamation
of the mouth.
Telltale signs
of poisoning.
In other words...
What we have ourselves here
is a good
ol' fashioned murder...
Oh, no.
...of a man who
you all loved dearly.
I shouldn't have done
the Knives Out accent.
All right. A man
has been poisoned,
his will is missing,
and there's only
one person
who stands to profit.
Lyndon Boyle.
Lyndon's not a killer.
I mean, he did skip
a Boyle family
Zoom last summer.
Yeah, it's true.
It's seven hours
out of your day.
How hard
is that to fit in?
Okay, let's set up
an interrogation room.
I wanna make this guy as
uncomfortable as possible.
I thought
we were going
for uncomfortable.
What's with
the rocking chair?
It's a farm.
All the chairs
are rockers.
But don't worry,
I under-steeped the tea.
Ugh. It's so weak.
Why am I being treated
like a criminal?
Okay. I stand
corrected.
We'd like to ask you
a few questions.
Tell us about
your last contact
with your father.
Pappy? Well, I saw him
at his birthday party.
Mmm-hmm. And was
there anything unusual
about that night?
Nothing unusual at all.
We ate a pig
from snout to anus,
and then took turns giving
each other head massages.
I was tired.
So I found Pappy,
wished him a happy birthday.
We hugged for six minutes.
It was the last time
I saw him alive.
Did you see
those tears?
No way he did it.
Are you serious?
Anyone can fake cry.
You just have to think
of something sad.
Like that episode
of Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtles
when Leonardo
was in a coma.
And that works?
Yeah.
Yeah, it does.
Now, come on.
Let's go poke some
holes in
Lyndon's story.
It was such a great party.
Everyone had the best time.
I mean, except for Lyndon.
Lyndon wasn't happy?
Yeah, it was strange.
He was passing
through the living room.
I asked him
if he wanted
a little HJ.
But he just ignored me.
I mean, who doesn't want
an HJ from their cousin?
Hold up. An HJ?
A head job. A massage.
Isn't that what
everyone calls it?
You bet.
Absolutely not.
Okay, so why was
Lyndon angry?
I bet it was whatever
Pappy said to him.
Wait. What Pappy
said when?
When they were
in Pappy's study.
We heard raised voices.
And then Lyndon said...
Good night.
...walked out of the room,
and closed the door
behind him.
That's all
he said? "Good night"?
Gentlemen...
I just solved this case.
Sir, if you
wanna get a date
off of these sites,
you're gonna have
to give me a little more
from your profile photo.
I just gave you
a series of eight poses,
each increasing in
sexual provocativeness
by one-eighth.
If you wanted
septiles or deciles
of sexiness,
you should've told me.
What? Why do you care
so much, Santiago?
I thought you didn't like
the idea of me dating.
Yes, initially.
But then I thought
about your metaphor
about how relationships
are like a chess match.
Mmm-hmm.
And it really convinced me.
That was
a strong observation.
So why don't you think
of this profile photo
as an epic chess move?
Like Vladimirov's
Thunderbolt of 1987.
Close the door, Diaz.
I'm removing
my collar stays.
Why am I back here?
Like I told you,
it was a typical night.
Right. Cousin
kissing circle,
everyone gets
burped after dinner.
Normal stuff. But let's
talk about what happened
after the burping,
shall we?
What are you getting at?
What exactly do you think
happened that night?
I'm so glad you asked.
I think Pappy called you
into his study and told you
he was cutting
you out of his will.
Tempers flared.
Voices were raised.
What?
You were
furious you wouldn't
be inheriting the farm.
I don't even
want the farm.
I've always been
more of a city boy.
I live in Poughkeepsie.
Well, I guess
that settles it.
Except you didn't
say I love you.
Excuse me?
When you left,
you said, "Good night."
You didn't say,
"I love you."
Now, you may be
a black sheep,
but you're still a Boyle.
And a Boyle always
says "I love you."
Not always.
Look around you.
It's written everywhere.
Okay, fine.
We were fighting.
But not over the will.
Pappy was mad at me
for missing that
Zoom call this summer.
I mean honestly, Lyndon,
what did you expect
would happen?
He said I was a disgrace
to the Boyle name.
So I didn't say,
"I love you."
I just stormed out
to the shed.
I went to get
the Grandmother Dough.
The Grandmother Dough?
Here it is.
The original
Boyle family
sourdough starter.
It's still good,
but the lid on the jar
has been stuck for
over a hundred years.
There's an old
family legend
that it can only
be opened by
the one true Boyle.
Mmm-hmm.
I wanted to show my dad
that I was not a disgrace
to the family.
But I couldn't
budge it.
Maybe he was right.
Oh, Lyndon.
What a tale.
But I don't think
that's why you came
in this barn at all.
I think you came
in here
for this.
Is that nutria poison?
It's rat poison.
Nutria are pets.
You psychopath.
Ah. Nitrobenzene.
That causes the exact
type of ulcers we found
in Pappy Boyle's mouth.
And look what
we have here.
A single brown hair,
belonging to the murderer.
Terry, please
send this off
to the local
police station
for a DNA test.
Now all we need is one
of your hairs, Lyndon.
I didn't kill my father.
Why am I being singled out?
Why not take a hair
from every Boyle
so Cousin Lyndon
doesn't feel that way?
Sure, great idea.
I'll go first.
I mean it's more
work for the lab,
but it's fine with me.
Are you okay
with that, Lyndon?
Oh, wow.
Went with a nose hair.
Didn't see that coming.
But it's definitely
long enough.
No.
Okay, sir.
This app's
pretty simple.
If you don't like
the guy's profile,
you click "dang,"
and if you do,
you click "daaang."
That sounds
needlessly confusing.
Why? "Dang" is bad
and "daaang" is good?
Okay, let's thin
this herd.
Untucked shirt,
no thank you.
Born in San Diego, yikes.
An adult named Todd?
So this is what
online dating is like?
I didn't realize.
Realize how good
you have it with Kevin?
No, how it hasn't
changed.
You still have to pick
someone based on looks
and hope for
a connection later.
Oh, Lord, help me.
I'm going for it.
I'm clicking "dang."
No. "Dang" is bad.
Click "daaang."
Why is this
so confusing?
How do I get
Hot Todd back?
DNA results are in.
Ooh, and?
Who did it?
It was Lyndon, right?
Hair is...
"Rodent in origin."
What? Doesn't
make any sense.
Here, forward it to me.
Must've been
a nutria hair.
Those things are
everywhere. Ugh.
Wait a minute.
This is weird.
According to
the DNA results,
everyone in the Boyle
family is related
except one.
Lyndon?
No. Charles.
Charles Boyle
isn't a Boyle.
That DNA test
has to be wrong.
I mean, Charles is
the most Boyle-y
of all the Boyles.
You know what?
I'm gonna call
Charles' dad,
get to the bottom
of this.
All right.
Thanks, Lynn. Bye.
What on earth
took so long?
Well, the first five
hours was mostly
just sobbing
and gasping for air.
Then he told me that
Charles' mom had an affair
with a rival florist.
Lynn always suspected
he might've been
Charles' dad,
but he decided
he loved him so much,
it didn't matter.
I don't understand.
Charles looks just like
all the other Boyles.
Apparently that's
not genetic.
The Boyles cuddle
their children so much,
it shapes
their bones that way.
He likened it to how
they grow square
watermelons.
Oh, my God.
We can't tell Charles.
You wanna lie
to our dear friend
about the one thing
that's most
important to him
in the whole world?
Yes.
Okay, good, me too.
Now all we have
to do is prove
that Cousin Lyndon
is the murderer before
Charles asks about
the DNA results.
Hi, guys.
Hey, man.
Where'd you come from?
I slinked up.
You know how good
Boyles are at slinking.
It's because of our
fleshy toe pads.
Right. And you, Charles,
have said fleshy toe pads
because you are a Boyle,
from snout to anus.
That is so sweet.
I'm stealing that
for the eulogy.
You don't have to.
Ah. It's the exact
time we agreed
to meet
for our date,
and he's not here.
I'm sorry. I know how
you value punctuality.
In my employees.
But in potential
suitors,
I don't mind one or two
minutes of tardiness.
I like a bad boy.
Now, if you'll
excuse me,
I'm going to go
to the bathroom
to wash my hands,
in case we shake.
Ooh.
I thought the point
was for Holt to bail
before he got
to an actual date.
It is. But this
works too.
I mean, did you see
the dude he matched with?
He calls himself
a doctor,
but he's actually
a chiropractor.
Are we sure Holt doesn't
respect chiropractors?
I'm kidding. Oh.
There's Todd.
And here's Holt.
Started off strong,
nice big smile.
Oh, not anymore.
He just noticed
Todd's loafers.
Oh, Todd, you fool.
Holt thinks any shoes
without laces
are flip-flops.
Now the moment
that will send Holt
running toward the exit.
When he asks Todd
what he would
like to drink,
Todd orders, "Whatever
you're having."
Oh Todd, you fool.
Have your own opinion.
Wait a second.
Are they gonna sit down?
In a booth?
Oh, no, Rosa.
Todd's not the fool.
We're the fools.
I have eyes
on the package.
He's headed towards you.
I'm on it.
Seriously, guys,
why are we doing this?
We should just wait
for the DNA test.
We will. But the lab said
it would take a week.
They had to get
a new tech.
Oh, no. Why?
Uh. The old one
had a bad allergic
reaction to beakers.
Ugh. Labs are full
of them. That's awful.
Yeah, and real.
Anyways, since Lyndon
is our only actual suspect,
we might
as well investigate.
Let me ask you this.
Is he gushing?
Don't say those words.
The pressure
of keeping secrets
makes Boyles stress-sweat.
Wait.
He's leaving
the property.
Can you stay with him?
Yeah. I think so.
I just have to get
around the barn and...
Terr-bear?
I'm sorry.
I was following Lyndon
and I crawled
into that thing.
That thing has a name.
It's Muffin.
Well, thanks to Muffin,
we lost Lyndon.
Yes. But also
thanks to Muffin,
I just solved the case
of who killed Pappy Boyle.
We're right here.
Yeah. I didn't think
it would feedback.
Oh, no, Rosa.
They're leaving together.
What are we gonna do?
We stop them.
Even if it means
we have to kill Todd.
Smart. Let's go.
Looking for someone?
Sir. Uh,
what's going on?
What's going on
is that you were trying
to manipulate me,
but it is I who
manipulated you.
How does it feel to
suckle from your
own tainted teat?
Not as bad as it
feels to hear
you say "suckle."
So you were never
really going home
with Todd?
You actually think I would
have relations with him?
I really thought
we had something.
Wake up, Todd.
I'm out of your league.
You thought you could
meddle in my personal life,
but I was ten moves
ahead the whole time.
And now, checkmate.
Ooh. I love chess.
Have you seen
The Queen's Gambit?
It's a TV show.
Todd, I swear to God.
The person who killed
Pappy wasn't
a person at all.
It was Muffin.
I checked her mouth,
and Muffin had the same
ulcers that Pappy had.
Muffin ate the poison,
and then Pappy
drank her milk.
So Lyndon was innocent.
The hair on the box
must have been Muffin's.
Did you get
the DNA report back?
Exactly.
Wait,
but I thought
the report was gonna
take a week
because of the lab
tech's allergies.
Uh-huh, uh-huh,
uh-huh.
But then they decided
to use a subcontractor
who was allergy-free,
so let's just move on
and talk about
something else
immediately.
Three "uh-huh's"?
Clearly you're lying
about something.
Why you being
a jerk to me?
Show me
the report, Jake.
Okay, fine.
But just look
at the top result
cause that's
all that matters.
"Specimen hair
was rodent
in nature."
And that's that.
Oh, my God.
I'm not a Boyle.
Okay. I love you
too, Dad.
Did you guys
change clothes?
Yeah, Charles.
It's tomorrow now.
You've been on the phone
for 14 hours.
Well, you know
what they say,
"Time flies when God
pulls down his pants
"and takes a dump
on your life."
Oh, buddy.
I'm so sorry.
I just wanna go home.
What? You can't leave.
What about the eulogy?
I don't feel right
giving it now.
Sam offered to step in.
I'll have him do it.
No, no, no. Wait.
Assemble the cousins.
Last night we learned
that Pappy Boyle's death
was not foul play.
But even though
there was no murder,
there was a robbery.
Charles had his sense
of self stolen from him
by Sam Boyle.
You said it
yourself, Charles,
the Boyles have a long history
of cousin-on-cousin jealousy.
Sam couldn't stand
that you were chosen
to give the eulogy.
Think about it.
It was Sam who made sure
we knew the will was missing.
We can't find
Pappy's will.
Then Sam again
who suggested you all
get your DNA tested.
Why not take a hair
from every Boyle?
And finally,
Sam who made sure
we all knew the results.
Did you get
the DNA report back?
This is ridiculous.
I love Charles.
Okay, well then.
I'm sure you wouldn't mind
giving him a hug then.
Since you love
him so much.
Sure. I always like
to hug my cousin.
He's gushing!
Darn it.
I thought these
would hide it,
but I gushed through
my pit diapers.
All right, fine.
I always suspected
that Charles
wasn't one of us.
I mean, he went
through puberty at 13,
instead of 25,
like a normal Boyle.
And when he got chosen
to give the eulogy,
something inside
of me snapped.
So I hid the will.
I admit it.
Are you happy now?
Very.
Not at all.
Wait, what? Charles,
we solved the case.
He confessed.
Doesn't matter.
I'm still not a Boyle.
I'm just
a normal person.
Normal
from snout to anus.
We wanted to apologize.
And if you wanna
gloat about how
you outsmarted us,
go ahead.
We deserve it.
I won't be doing
any gloating.
I mean, I did last night.
I went home and had a drink
to toast to
your humiliation.
But it didn't
feel right,
because I had no one
to toast with,
no one to share
my glee.
I had won,
but I was alone.
And I realized,
this is exactly what
I'm doing to Kevin.
Trying to win therapy.
And it hit me.
I care so much
about winning
that I've lost everything.
Tell Kevin
how you feel.
It's raining.
You could run to him.
This is the real
world, Santiago.
Relationships end
in unsatisfying
ways every day.
People don't run
to each other in the rain.
Raymond!
Raymond Holt!
Kevin?
Raymond!
Raymond, am I too late?
Too late?
My friend saw
your dating profile
and your photo
without collar stays.
I thought
I'd lost you.
You will never
lose me.
I'll do anything
to keep you.
I'll compromise
on everything.
The work, the...
Nancy Meyers
never fails.
Now that we're doing it,
it feels kinda weird
to be staring at your
friends while they kiss.
Are you kidding?
It's beautiful.
I love you.
I love you.
Okay, I'm packed.
Let's go home.
Charles, I'm sorry.
I feel like this
was all my fault.
Why? Did you
inseminate my mother?
What? Ew, no.
Don't say ew.
She's my one
blood relation.
Remember, I'm
not a real Boyle.
Okay, fine.
Maybe you're not
a real Boyle.
But what if you're
a true Boyle?
What if you're
the one true Boyle?
No, no. You want me
to open the
Grandmother Dough.
That jar is
stuck shut.
Nobody's ever
been able to do it.
But you have to try.
Terry, go grab it.
All right, now let's
reassemble those cousins.
I'm not gonna
be able to do this,
and I'm gonna be
even more humiliated.
Just try.
I believe in you.
So did you loosen it?
I tried,
but it's slippery,
and that thing
is sealed on tight.
I couldn't budge it.
Oh, no.
Uh, hey, Charles.
Remember when I said
that I believed in you?
Yes. It's the entire
reason I'm doing this.
Oh. Godspeed.
Ah! I did it!
He's the one
true Boyle.
Oh, my God.
What is that stench?
It's the
Grandmother Dough.
It smells horrible.
Not to a Boyle.
Oh, God.
It's cutting through
the smell of the corpse.
Cousin Tommy.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Mel.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Sam.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Tommy.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Becca.
I love you.
Good morning,
Cousin Sam.
I love you.
Good morning,
Pappy Boyle.
I love you.
Good morning, Becca.
I love you.
Ooh, extra-long hug.
What got into you
this morning, Pappy?
Pappy?
Pappy!
Oh, Charles.
I'm so sorry about
your great-uncle Pappy.
You holding up okay?
I've been managing.
Mmm...
Have you though?
Number two,
step up.
Say, "Charles,
it's Pappy.
I'll always love you."
Okay. Uh,
"Charles, it's Pappy.
I'll always love you."
Then why did
you leave me?
Anyway, thanks
for coming with me
to the funeral.
I think we're
all packed.
I just got to go
grab the coffin.
Wait, why are you
bringing the coffin?
I brought a coffin
to my nana's funeral
on a whim,
and it was a big hit.
So now, guess who's
the coffin cousin?
Got to say, Terry,
I'm a little surprised
you're coming to this.
Honestly,
I need a break
from the kids.
Cagney and Lacey
keep trying to trick me
into falling down
the stairs on TikTok.
Terry can't sprain
another ankle.
Well, I, for one,
am pumped to be going.
To a funeral?
I'm so bored, Terry.
I've been suspended
for 87 days.
Mac gets dropped off
at day care,
and I just sit at home
playing Animal Crossing.
But no one will buy
my bugs or fossils.
I'm desperate for some
normal human interaction.
Coffin delivery!
Okay, fine. It doesn't
have to be normal or human.
Any interaction
will work.
Yo. You forgot
your lunch.
Oh.
Thank you, Diaz.
Sir, I didn't realize
you were still
staying at Rosa's.
I thought
couple's counseling
was going well.
Not anymore.
At Kevin's request,
I offered to reduce
my work hours by 26%.
Kevin countered
with 50
which I countered
with 30.
Then Kevin says 40...
Seems like a lot
of math for therapy.
That's what
Dr. Cheryl said.
Anyway, Kevin refuses
to budge from 36%.
And I'm starting to worry
that I might lose to him.
You mean lose him.
No. Lose to him.
Therapy is
a chess match.
And I will prevail.
Or it's about saving
your marriage.
You should make
a grand romantic gesture.
Ugh, so dumb.
Seriously?
From the woman
who loves Nancy
Meyers movies?
Yeah. Here's what
I've learned as a PI.
People suck,
everyone cheats,
and love is an illusion.
Nancy Meyers is a fool,
and Holt should start dating.
What?
You heard me.
It's the only way
you're gonna beat Kevin.
I'm thinking about it.
I'm considering it,
and I've decided.
I'm in.
Here it is.
Pappy Boyle's farm.
I spent every summer
here as a kid.
Got to say,
it's nicer than
I was expecting.
Pappy did well
for himself.
You know, he went
to business school
in New York.
He got a job
in Wall Street.
And one day his hand
got caught in
a subway door.
And he was dragged
from Times Square
into Queens.
Largest settlement
in city history.
Pappy should've used
that cash on pest control.
There's giant
rats everywhere.
Those are nutria, Terry.
They're nothing like rats.
They have
meatier haunches,
and their teeth
are more orange.
You know, nutria
are actually great pets.
They're affectionate
and smart.
They know how
to open doors.
Plus, you can
milk them.
But... Should you?
Pappy drank nutria milk,
and he was fit as a fiddle.
Anyway, you got
to see the house.
I can't wait to show you
the rug I was born on.
Sure it's been
cleaned since then.
Charles Boyle,
I love you.
Sam Boyle,
I love you.
Where's that dead body?
He's in the barn,
and he looks adorable.
Ah, terrific.
And everything's set
for the funeral?
There's one little
issue. We can't
find Pappy's will.
What?
He wanted
to leave the farm
to the Council of Cousins,
but if we don't find
those papers,
it goes to
Cousin Lyndon.
Oh, no.
Who's Cousin Lyndon?
Pappy's son.
He's the black sheep
of the family.
Wait, so we have
a wealthy patriarch
who mysteriously died,
a missing will,
and a black sheep set
to inherit everything?
Am I the only one
who suspects
foul play here?
He didn't die
mysteriously.
He was 93.
He was fit
as fiddle, Terr.
From all
the nutria milk.
Don't be ridiculous.
No Boyle would
ever commit murder.
Boyles don't even
get mad at each other.
Except in that rare instance
of cousin-on-cousin jealousy.
You're just bored
from your suspension
and desperate
to find a case to work.
No. That's not it.
I'm just telling you,
something doesn't
smell right here.
Oh, yeah.
That's Pappy's body.
Cousin Mel did
the embalming in here,
and I think she forgot
to add something.
Well, that's
a disturbing
revelation.
Hey. What's going on?
I'm helping Holt
pick a dating site.
Oh, this looks good.
PhDs only.
Uh, actually
in this context,
PHD stands for
Pretty Huge .
Oh, my.
I can only assume
that MDs only stands
for Medium .
Rosa, can I talk
to you for a second?
What the hell
are you doing?
Why are you trying to get
Holt and Kevin to break up?
I'm trying to get Holt
and Kevin back together.
He and Kevin
are perfect
for each other.
He just needs
to realize that.
Once he sees
what other trash
is out there,
he's gonna go
running straight back
into Kevin's arms,
just like in
a Nancy Meyers movie.
So you still love
Nancy Meyers?
I will never
turn my back
on Nancy Meyers.
Okay. I'm in.
Let operation
"Lucky Number Kevin" begin.
I'm out.
No, no, no. We don't
have to call it that.
Okay, then I think
I'll finish up
by saying
Pappy Boyle
was the best hugger.
Which is surprising
because he lost his
hand in the subway.
But he always said,
"You don't hug
with your hands,
"you hug with your heart.
"And your groin."
He got that groin involved.
Uh, a lot of groin talk
for a eulogy.
Everyone, there's
something you need
to see in the barn.
The game is afoot.
Pappy Boyle was 93.
Who would've suspected
that his death stemmed
from anything other than
the cruel embrace
of Father Time?
To suggest as much
might get someone
labeled a crackpot,
a kook,
someone that's "bored
with their suspension."
Can you cut the
Harriet the Spy windup?
It stinks in here.
What you're smelling, Terry,
is duplicity and deceit.
I think
it's actually
Pappy's organs.
Sam, you're kind of messing
with my flow right now.
Point is, I was
examining the body,
and I found something.
Classic ulceration
and desquamation
of the mouth.
Telltale signs
of poisoning.
In other words...
What we have ourselves here
is a good
ol' fashioned murder...
Oh, no.
...of a man who
you all loved dearly.
I shouldn't have done
the Knives Out accent.
All right. A man
has been poisoned,
his will is missing,
and there's only
one person
who stands to profit.
Lyndon Boyle.
Lyndon's not a killer.
I mean, he did skip
a Boyle family
Zoom last summer.
Yeah, it's true.
It's seven hours
out of your day.
How hard
is that to fit in?
Okay, let's set up
an interrogation room.
I wanna make this guy as
uncomfortable as possible.
I thought
we were going
for uncomfortable.
What's with
the rocking chair?
It's a farm.
All the chairs
are rockers.
But don't worry,
I under-steeped the tea.
Ugh. It's so weak.
Why am I being treated
like a criminal?
Okay. I stand
corrected.
We'd like to ask you
a few questions.
Tell us about
your last contact
with your father.
Pappy? Well, I saw him
at his birthday party.
Mmm-hmm. And was
there anything unusual
about that night?
Nothing unusual at all.
We ate a pig
from snout to anus,
and then took turns giving
each other head massages.
I was tired.
So I found Pappy,
wished him a happy birthday.
We hugged for six minutes.
It was the last time
I saw him alive.
Did you see
those tears?
No way he did it.
Are you serious?
Anyone can fake cry.
You just have to think
of something sad.
Like that episode
of Teenage Mutant
Ninja Turtles
when Leonardo
was in a coma.
And that works?
Yeah.
Yeah, it does.
Now, come on.
Let's go poke some
holes in
Lyndon's story.
It was such a great party.
Everyone had the best time.
I mean, except for Lyndon.
Lyndon wasn't happy?
Yeah, it was strange.
He was passing
through the living room.
I asked him
if he wanted
a little HJ.
But he just ignored me.
I mean, who doesn't want
an HJ from their cousin?
Hold up. An HJ?
A head job. A massage.
Isn't that what
everyone calls it?
You bet.
Absolutely not.
Okay, so why was
Lyndon angry?
I bet it was whatever
Pappy said to him.
Wait. What Pappy
said when?
When they were
in Pappy's study.
We heard raised voices.
And then Lyndon said...
Good night.
...walked out of the room,
and closed the door
behind him.
That's all
he said? "Good night"?
Gentlemen...
I just solved this case.
Sir, if you
wanna get a date
off of these sites,
you're gonna have
to give me a little more
from your profile photo.
I just gave you
a series of eight poses,
each increasing in
sexual provocativeness
by one-eighth.
If you wanted
septiles or deciles
of sexiness,
you should've told me.
What? Why do you care
so much, Santiago?
I thought you didn't like
the idea of me dating.
Yes, initially.
But then I thought
about your metaphor
about how relationships
are like a chess match.
Mmm-hmm.
And it really convinced me.
That was
a strong observation.
So why don't you think
of this profile photo
as an epic chess move?
Like Vladimirov's
Thunderbolt of 1987.
Close the door, Diaz.
I'm removing
my collar stays.
Why am I back here?
Like I told you,
it was a typical night.
Right. Cousin
kissing circle,
everyone gets
burped after dinner.
Normal stuff. But let's
talk about what happened
after the burping,
shall we?
What are you getting at?
What exactly do you think
happened that night?
I'm so glad you asked.
I think Pappy called you
into his study and told you
he was cutting
you out of his will.
Tempers flared.
Voices were raised.
What?
You were
furious you wouldn't
be inheriting the farm.
I don't even
want the farm.
I've always been
more of a city boy.
I live in Poughkeepsie.
Well, I guess
that settles it.
Except you didn't
say I love you.
Excuse me?
When you left,
you said, "Good night."
You didn't say,
"I love you."
Now, you may be
a black sheep,
but you're still a Boyle.
And a Boyle always
says "I love you."
Not always.
Look around you.
It's written everywhere.
Okay, fine.
We were fighting.
But not over the will.
Pappy was mad at me
for missing that
Zoom call this summer.
I mean honestly, Lyndon,
what did you expect
would happen?
He said I was a disgrace
to the Boyle name.
So I didn't say,
"I love you."
I just stormed out
to the shed.
I went to get
the Grandmother Dough.
The Grandmother Dough?
Here it is.
The original
Boyle family
sourdough starter.
It's still good,
but the lid on the jar
has been stuck for
over a hundred years.
There's an old
family legend
that it can only
be opened by
the one true Boyle.
Mmm-hmm.
I wanted to show my dad
that I was not a disgrace
to the family.
But I couldn't
budge it.
Maybe he was right.
Oh, Lyndon.
What a tale.
But I don't think
that's why you came
in this barn at all.
I think you came
in here
for this.
Is that nutria poison?
It's rat poison.
Nutria are pets.
You psychopath.
Ah. Nitrobenzene.
That causes the exact
type of ulcers we found
in Pappy Boyle's mouth.
And look what
we have here.
A single brown hair,
belonging to the murderer.
Terry, please
send this off
to the local
police station
for a DNA test.
Now all we need is one
of your hairs, Lyndon.
I didn't kill my father.
Why am I being singled out?
Why not take a hair
from every Boyle
so Cousin Lyndon
doesn't feel that way?
Sure, great idea.
I'll go first.
I mean it's more
work for the lab,
but it's fine with me.
Are you okay
with that, Lyndon?
Oh, wow.
Went with a nose hair.
Didn't see that coming.
But it's definitely
long enough.
No.
Okay, sir.
This app's
pretty simple.
If you don't like
the guy's profile,
you click "dang,"
and if you do,
you click "daaang."
That sounds
needlessly confusing.
Why? "Dang" is bad
and "daaang" is good?
Okay, let's thin
this herd.
Untucked shirt,
no thank you.
Born in San Diego, yikes.
An adult named Todd?
So this is what
online dating is like?
I didn't realize.
Realize how good
you have it with Kevin?
No, how it hasn't
changed.
You still have to pick
someone based on looks
and hope for
a connection later.
Oh, Lord, help me.
I'm going for it.
I'm clicking "dang."
No. "Dang" is bad.
Click "daaang."
Why is this
so confusing?
How do I get
Hot Todd back?
DNA results are in.
Ooh, and?
Who did it?
It was Lyndon, right?
Hair is...
"Rodent in origin."
What? Doesn't
make any sense.
Here, forward it to me.
Must've been
a nutria hair.
Those things are
everywhere. Ugh.
Wait a minute.
This is weird.
According to
the DNA results,
everyone in the Boyle
family is related
except one.
Lyndon?
No. Charles.
Charles Boyle
isn't a Boyle.
That DNA test
has to be wrong.
I mean, Charles is
the most Boyle-y
of all the Boyles.
You know what?
I'm gonna call
Charles' dad,
get to the bottom
of this.
All right.
Thanks, Lynn. Bye.
What on earth
took so long?
Well, the first five
hours was mostly
just sobbing
and gasping for air.
Then he told me that
Charles' mom had an affair
with a rival florist.
Lynn always suspected
he might've been
Charles' dad,
but he decided
he loved him so much,
it didn't matter.
I don't understand.
Charles looks just like
all the other Boyles.
Apparently that's
not genetic.
The Boyles cuddle
their children so much,
it shapes
their bones that way.
He likened it to how
they grow square
watermelons.
Oh, my God.
We can't tell Charles.
You wanna lie
to our dear friend
about the one thing
that's most
important to him
in the whole world?
Yes.
Okay, good, me too.
Now all we have
to do is prove
that Cousin Lyndon
is the murderer before
Charles asks about
the DNA results.
Hi, guys.
Hey, man.
Where'd you come from?
I slinked up.
You know how good
Boyles are at slinking.
It's because of our
fleshy toe pads.
Right. And you, Charles,
have said fleshy toe pads
because you are a Boyle,
from snout to anus.
That is so sweet.
I'm stealing that
for the eulogy.
You don't have to.
Ah. It's the exact
time we agreed
to meet
for our date,
and he's not here.
I'm sorry. I know how
you value punctuality.
In my employees.
But in potential
suitors,
I don't mind one or two
minutes of tardiness.
I like a bad boy.
Now, if you'll
excuse me,
I'm going to go
to the bathroom
to wash my hands,
in case we shake.
Ooh.
I thought the point
was for Holt to bail
before he got
to an actual date.
It is. But this
works too.
I mean, did you see
the dude he matched with?
He calls himself
a doctor,
but he's actually
a chiropractor.
Are we sure Holt doesn't
respect chiropractors?
I'm kidding. Oh.
There's Todd.
And here's Holt.
Started off strong,
nice big smile.
Oh, not anymore.
He just noticed
Todd's loafers.
Oh, Todd, you fool.
Holt thinks any shoes
without laces
are flip-flops.
Now the moment
that will send Holt
running toward the exit.
When he asks Todd
what he would
like to drink,
Todd orders, "Whatever
you're having."
Oh Todd, you fool.
Have your own opinion.
Wait a second.
Are they gonna sit down?
In a booth?
Oh, no, Rosa.
Todd's not the fool.
We're the fools.
I have eyes
on the package.
He's headed towards you.
I'm on it.
Seriously, guys,
why are we doing this?
We should just wait
for the DNA test.
We will. But the lab said
it would take a week.
They had to get
a new tech.
Oh, no. Why?
Uh. The old one
had a bad allergic
reaction to beakers.
Ugh. Labs are full
of them. That's awful.
Yeah, and real.
Anyways, since Lyndon
is our only actual suspect,
we might
as well investigate.
Let me ask you this.
Is he gushing?
Don't say those words.
The pressure
of keeping secrets
makes Boyles stress-sweat.
Wait.
He's leaving
the property.
Can you stay with him?
Yeah. I think so.
I just have to get
around the barn and...
Terr-bear?
I'm sorry.
I was following Lyndon
and I crawled
into that thing.
That thing has a name.
It's Muffin.
Well, thanks to Muffin,
we lost Lyndon.
Yes. But also
thanks to Muffin,
I just solved the case
of who killed Pappy Boyle.
We're right here.
Yeah. I didn't think
it would feedback.
Oh, no, Rosa.
They're leaving together.
What are we gonna do?
We stop them.
Even if it means
we have to kill Todd.
Smart. Let's go.
Looking for someone?
Sir. Uh,
what's going on?
What's going on
is that you were trying
to manipulate me,
but it is I who
manipulated you.
How does it feel to
suckle from your
own tainted teat?
Not as bad as it
feels to hear
you say "suckle."
So you were never
really going home
with Todd?
You actually think I would
have relations with him?
I really thought
we had something.
Wake up, Todd.
I'm out of your league.
You thought you could
meddle in my personal life,
but I was ten moves
ahead the whole time.
And now, checkmate.
Ooh. I love chess.
Have you seen
The Queen's Gambit?
It's a TV show.
Todd, I swear to God.
The person who killed
Pappy wasn't
a person at all.
It was Muffin.
I checked her mouth,
and Muffin had the same
ulcers that Pappy had.
Muffin ate the poison,
and then Pappy
drank her milk.
So Lyndon was innocent.
The hair on the box
must have been Muffin's.
Did you get
the DNA report back?
Exactly.
Wait,
but I thought
the report was gonna
take a week
because of the lab
tech's allergies.
Uh-huh, uh-huh,
uh-huh.
But then they decided
to use a subcontractor
who was allergy-free,
so let's just move on
and talk about
something else
immediately.
Three "uh-huh's"?
Clearly you're lying
about something.
Why you being
a jerk to me?
Show me
the report, Jake.
Okay, fine.
But just look
at the top result
cause that's
all that matters.
"Specimen hair
was rodent
in nature."
And that's that.
Oh, my God.
I'm not a Boyle.
Okay. I love you
too, Dad.
Did you guys
change clothes?
Yeah, Charles.
It's tomorrow now.
You've been on the phone
for 14 hours.
Well, you know
what they say,
"Time flies when God
pulls down his pants
"and takes a dump
on your life."
Oh, buddy.
I'm so sorry.
I just wanna go home.
What? You can't leave.
What about the eulogy?
I don't feel right
giving it now.
Sam offered to step in.
I'll have him do it.
No, no, no. Wait.
Assemble the cousins.
Last night we learned
that Pappy Boyle's death
was not foul play.
But even though
there was no murder,
there was a robbery.
Charles had his sense
of self stolen from him
by Sam Boyle.
You said it
yourself, Charles,
the Boyles have a long history
of cousin-on-cousin jealousy.
Sam couldn't stand
that you were chosen
to give the eulogy.
Think about it.
It was Sam who made sure
we knew the will was missing.
We can't find
Pappy's will.
Then Sam again
who suggested you all
get your DNA tested.
Why not take a hair
from every Boyle?
And finally,
Sam who made sure
we all knew the results.
Did you get
the DNA report back?
This is ridiculous.
I love Charles.
Okay, well then.
I'm sure you wouldn't mind
giving him a hug then.
Since you love
him so much.
Sure. I always like
to hug my cousin.
He's gushing!
Darn it.
I thought these
would hide it,
but I gushed through
my pit diapers.
All right, fine.
I always suspected
that Charles
wasn't one of us.
I mean, he went
through puberty at 13,
instead of 25,
like a normal Boyle.
And when he got chosen
to give the eulogy,
something inside
of me snapped.
So I hid the will.
I admit it.
Are you happy now?
Very.
Not at all.
Wait, what? Charles,
we solved the case.
He confessed.
Doesn't matter.
I'm still not a Boyle.
I'm just
a normal person.
Normal
from snout to anus.
We wanted to apologize.
And if you wanna
gloat about how
you outsmarted us,
go ahead.
We deserve it.
I won't be doing
any gloating.
I mean, I did last night.
I went home and had a drink
to toast to
your humiliation.
But it didn't
feel right,
because I had no one
to toast with,
no one to share
my glee.
I had won,
but I was alone.
And I realized,
this is exactly what
I'm doing to Kevin.
Trying to win therapy.
And it hit me.
I care so much
about winning
that I've lost everything.
Tell Kevin
how you feel.
It's raining.
You could run to him.
This is the real
world, Santiago.
Relationships end
in unsatisfying
ways every day.
People don't run
to each other in the rain.
Raymond!
Raymond Holt!
Kevin?
Raymond!
Raymond, am I too late?
Too late?
My friend saw
your dating profile
and your photo
without collar stays.
I thought
I'd lost you.
You will never
lose me.
I'll do anything
to keep you.
I'll compromise
on everything.
The work, the...
Nancy Meyers
never fails.
Now that we're doing it,
it feels kinda weird
to be staring at your
friends while they kiss.
Are you kidding?
It's beautiful.
I love you.
I love you.
Okay, I'm packed.
Let's go home.
Charles, I'm sorry.
I feel like this
was all my fault.
Why? Did you
inseminate my mother?
What? Ew, no.
Don't say ew.
She's my one
blood relation.
Remember, I'm
not a real Boyle.
Okay, fine.
Maybe you're not
a real Boyle.
But what if you're
a true Boyle?
What if you're
the one true Boyle?
No, no. You want me
to open the
Grandmother Dough.
That jar is
stuck shut.
Nobody's ever
been able to do it.
But you have to try.
Terry, go grab it.
All right, now let's
reassemble those cousins.
I'm not gonna
be able to do this,
and I'm gonna be
even more humiliated.
Just try.
I believe in you.
So did you loosen it?
I tried,
but it's slippery,
and that thing
is sealed on tight.
I couldn't budge it.
Oh, no.
Uh, hey, Charles.
Remember when I said
that I believed in you?
Yes. It's the entire
reason I'm doing this.
Oh. Godspeed.
Ah! I did it!
He's the one
true Boyle.
Oh, my God.
What is that stench?
It's the
Grandmother Dough.
It smells horrible.
Not to a Boyle.
Oh, God.
It's cutting through
the smell of the corpse.