Hot in Cleveland (2010–2015): Season 6, Episode 13 - Scandalous - full transcript

Previously on Hot in Cleveland.

The mayor is dead

in my bed!

So we sneak the mayor's body
back to his mansion,

put him back in his own bed,

and then everyone thinks
he died peacefully in his sleep.

It really looks like he died in his sleep,

and that's what people will think.

Yeah.

Ted, you're never
going to cheat on me again!

Oh, God.



She shot the mayor.

Technically, I'm the mayor.

Dead mayor. People are gonna want answers.

Let's hope the acting mayor
can handle the pressure.

Chief barker.

Your honor.

We would have been here sooner,

but it took us a while
to find the mayor's bedroom,

'cause, you know, we've never actually

been in the mayor's bedroom.

So why would we?

Okay, let me fill you in.

The mayor died of natural causes.

But evidence indicates
that the body was moved.



Well, it happens.

Not really.

And even more strange,
the mayor was untouched,

but there are three bullet holes

fired into the pillow next to him.

Which is probably a way bigger crime

than moving a body, which is something

that could happen almost by accident,

so I'd concentrate on those bullet holes.

We're concentrating on all of it.

Well, the mayor would like
outside investigators.

She feels we should handle this discreetly,

so as not to cause a major scandal.

And we already have some people in mind.

They are thorough and smart
and very discreet.

These guys sound good.

They're damn good.

The client is Elka Ostrovsky.

Yesterday Mayor Deacon died in Elka's bed.

With a smile on his face.

Just saying.

The body was moved back
to the mayor's residence

with the help of Melanie Moretti.

No, no, no, you can't use that picture!

It's a publicity still from
your radio show, it's fine.

It is not fine. Everyone else looks cool.

And I look like they shrunk me
and gave me a 30-year-old phone.

Forget the photo, Melanie.

We have a scandal here
that Elka can't be tied to.

This is a serious matter.

And speaking of serious,

last night Joy Scroggs and Bob Moore

seriously professed
their love for one another.

Oh, Bob.

We were called in on this case right away

and haven't had time
for our first kiss yet.

We were waiting for the perfect moment.

Well, that is just so sweet.

First kisses are so important.

Oh, they set the tone
for the entire relationship.

Hey, hey, hey!

My next kiss could be with a prison guard.

In exchange for cigarettes.

As hot as that sounds, Elka is right.

And there's one other player we
have to deal with in this saga.

Meet Dane Stevens.

He's a reporter that's been
nosing around the mayor's place,

asking a lot of questions.

Now one of you is gonna have
to use your feminine wiles

to get him off the scent.

Joy, really?

I'll do it.

I'll call him and set up a meeting.

Well, it makes sense that you'd call.

You're the one with the big phone.

All right, now, there's something else

that needs our immediate attention.

This glamorous, Oscar-winning
woman is in trouble.

Now HBO wants to test
my show today in Cleveland.

And if it doesn't test well,

then they may decide not to air it.

And if I weren't so concerned about Elka,

I'd be down there right now
trying to sway the vote.

But I'm needed here to...

what am I doing?

Nothing.

Bless you, Elka.

Okay, here's the plan.

Bob and I will break into the morgue

and clean any evidence off the mayor.

I'm assuming there's some
of your DNA on his body?

And glitter.

Which leaves us with one loose end.

Who shot the mayor's pillow?

We've done a little digging,

and we now know that in addition to Elka,

the mayor was sleeping
with two other women.

This is Miss Shonda,

an astrologist the mayor was consulting.

We don't know who this is,

but we have this surveillance photo of her

leaving the mayor's house
at an earlier date.

We need to find out
which of these mistresses

is the shooter

and if she knows anything about Elka.

You know, as a private detective

I'm trained to look
for patterns in behavior,

but I'm baffled.

If he was sleeping with her,

why would he wanna sleep with...

Her?

You, I totally get.

Okay, so we all know our assignments.

Yes, I'll call the hot journalist.

We'll take care of the mayor's body.

I'll deal with the mistresses.

And I'll call the hot journalist.

You already said that.

I know, but I really like my assignment.

There's the mayor.

Oh, Joy.

What?

You look beautiful in this morgue light.

You're so sweet.

Hey, we're finally alone

in a quiet, romantically-lit place.

Maybe we could...

Yeah, maybe this isn't the best place.

When we look back on our first kiss,

I don't want to remember doing
it over the corpse of a man

Elka killed during sex.

Besides, we got a lot of work to do.

You're right.

Well, she wasn't lying about the glitter.

You were the mayor's astrologist?

I was.

I heard you kept his sagittarius rising.

Fine, I slept with him.

But he said that he had
never been with any woman

as beautiful as me.

Oh, let's just stick with the facts here.

Where were you last night?

At church.

Any witnesses?

I sang my testimony for about 300 people.

Are you any good?

Don't quit your day job.

Ah, how's the testing going?

They just started discussing your show.

You wanna listen?

I really enjoyed it.

I especially loved Victoria Chase.

I thought she was wonderful.

Why have I been ignoring
people from Cleveland?

They're geniuses.

I thought it was terrible.

Bad dialogue and even worse acting.

I can't believe I watched
the same show as you people.

What?

What's happening?

Don't worry, there's always
a negative voice.

It'll be okay as long as she
doesn't influence the others.

You know, on second thought,

the dialogue was pretty terrible.

Yeah, I'd like to change my vote too.

We have got to stop that woman.

Thank you again for meeting
with me, Mr. Stevens.

Let's cut to the Chase.

The mayor's dead,
there's a bigger story here,

and you're gonna give it to me.

A 72-year-old man died of a heart attack.

There is no story here.

Are you sure?

Yes.

And you're not covering anything up?

No.

Darn!

What?

That's all the questions I had.

I'm definitely gonna get fired.

Why?

I used to be a great journalist.

At least my old editor thought so.

It was compliments, like, all the time.

Now my new editor's like,

"check your facts!

"Get sources!

Put your shirt on!"

Wild guess.

Your old editor was a woman,
your new editor is a man.

Wow, beautiful and smart.

Oh.

You.

Listen, I would just love to help you,

but the mayor died of natural causes.

You know, no scandal, no mistresses.

Mistresses, I wouldn't
have thought of that.

No, no, no. No, no mistresses.

There's the story. Thanks, Melanie.

But wait!

I said no mistresses!

Oh, damn it, Melanie!

Now you're just beautiful.

We have a new problem.

Somebody blabbed to the press
about the mistresses.

Who's that?

That's me!

I replaced my picture.

It's from a few years ago,
but it's obviously still me.

Could we write "Melanie" on that,

so we'll know who it is?

Anyway, all the other teams did well.

Bob and I cleaned up the mayor's body,

and Elka eliminated
the astrologist as a suspect.

Yes, and since
the astrologist wasn't there,

we know that this is
the woman who fired the shots.

We need to find her.

And another thing,

the premise is totally unbelievable.

Ugh, she's been going on
like this for an hour.

Can't we get her thrown out?

Sorry, that's the way
these things go sometimes.

One bad apple can kill a show.

Murderer.

Okay, we found out the shooter's name.

It's Ashley Dreyer.

We traced her cell.

She's currently at 42 Park Drive.

Somebody's gotta go talk to her.

I'll do it.

We'll be two model types

talking about the man we shared.

I wanna come too.

If I can my fitbit up to 20,000 steps,

I get an extra glass of wine.

Oh, no, my fitbit, it's gone!

What if I lost it at the mayor's house?

Well, that's okay.
You were there this morning.

Say you lost it then.

No, no, no, I got the fancy one

that tracks every place you've been

and when you've been there.

It'll show that I was there last night.

Which will implicate you in a crime.

Or worse!

I haven't gotten credit
for any of my steps all day!

All right, everyone, let's take lunch.

We'll watch another episode in an hour.

Victoria Chase?

Oh, don't you "Victoria Chase" me.

I know what you did.

You're a murderer.

How do you know about that?

I watched you through the window.

I saw every shot you took.

Oh, my gosh, I only did it
because I was jealous.

Well, I get that.

But I'll make you a deal.

You convince people to give
my show a good review,

and I'll forget that I ever saw anything.

That's it?

Hmm.

What are you doing here?

Well, what are you doing here?

I'm here to see her.

I know what you did.

Does everybody know what I did?

She's the other mistress.
She shot the mayor.

What?

What were you talking about?

That.

I can't lie anymore.

Not about the murder.

Not about Victoria's show being good.

I'm just gonna go
to the police and confess.

Just take it easy.

Now, there's no need
to get the police involved.

The truth is you didn't kill the mayor.

Elka gave him a heart attack.

In bed.

He died doing someone he loved.

So it's agreed,

we won't tell the police
that you were the shooter,

and you will keep your mouth closed

about Elka and the mayor's relationship.

Done.

Oh, you two with the same man.

And yet my show is unbelievable.

Oh, my God.

What? Did you find my fitbit?

I just looked at Joy, and
I can't believe I'm with her.

So no, you did not find it.

Oh, Bob, I'm so lucky.

Let's have that first kiss.

Not now.

Why?

Well, we both want
our first kiss to be perfect,

and right now I... I feel fat.

I ate a donut. I wasn't even hungry.

I... I hate myself. I'm hideous.

You're beating yourself up over one donut.

Did I leave out the word "dozen"?

Hello, Melanie.

Dane, how did you get in here?

This is a sealed crime scene.
No press allowed.

I know, but the policewoman at the door

patted me down a few times
and let me right in.

What are you doing here?

Well, um, I'm here to, um,

prepare the room for the next acting mayor,

and these are the decorators.

Yes, I'm a decorator,

you handsome guy, you.

You're gay?

I thought I just heard you
talking about kissing her.

Well, I'm straight for Joy.

I'm just gay for design.

We became a couple last night,

but we haven't had our first kiss yet.

You don't plan your first kiss.

You take it.

That is how you kiss a woman.

Yes.

Yes, it is.

Well, I was hoping that
there was a story here,

but if there was I guess
you guys would have found it.

If my writing career were a sentence,

this would be that dot thing
at the end of it.

Dane, I'm sure you're
a terrific journalist.

Just find something that interests you

and then write about that.

Thanks, Melanie.

It means a lot that you believe in me.

Yes, well, that was a really great kiss.

It was, wasn't it?

Hey, what is this?

Well, looks like somebody's fitbit.

That's mine! My fitbit.

I dropped it when I was legitimately here.

Wait. Legitimately here?

Why is everything you say so darn cute?

Well, we've cleaned the body of Elka's DNA,

silenced the witnesses,

and there's no incriminating
evidence at the crime scene.

The fixers have fixed it.

- Yes.
- Thank goodness.

One might say that now
is the perfect moment

for a kiss.

One might.

Hold on!

I know that you were having
an affair with the mayor

and that you two moved the body.

Oh, come on!

The mayor died of natural causes.

You said you weren't
chasing this story anymore.

I wasn't.

But Melanie gave me some good advice.

She told me to find something
I'm interested in.

And unfortunately, I'm interested in her.

Really?

He said "unfortunately," Melanie.

I found out you recently filed a complaint

with the police against your neighbor's kid

and his camera drone.

I looked at his pictures,

and while most of them
were of Melanie naked...

Oh, my God.

And?

You have a gorgeous body.

Agreed.

Bob!

If you like curves. Blegh, no!

Straight up and down for me, thank you.

But there was a shot of the
mayor going into Elka's house.

So? We were seeing each other.

And there was another shot
of you and Melanie

dragging a rolled-up rug

with the mayor's foot
sticking out of one end.

Would you believe foreplay?

What are you planning on doing
with this information?

Well, if I cared about the law,
I'd call the police.

If I cared about my job,
I'd write the story.

But right now, I only care about you.

Oh, Dane.

Well, if Dane could find these photos,

sooner or later the police
are gonna find them too.

We need a plan.

Bob's right.

There's only one thing to do.

And that's the whole story.

So the body-dragging, the shooting,

the cover-up, that was all you?

No one else here was involved?

No one else here is smart enough.

I believe that.

But you realize I'm going
to have to arrest you

and take you downtown.

Oh, my God!

My HBO show is gonna air.

I'm sorry for this interruption,

but, you know, during this terrible tragedy

isn't it nice that we can
all have some good news?

Are you ready to go, your honor?

I'm ready.

Bob, what can we do?

Well, on scandal Olivia pope

would always make a speech
and save the day.

That's so implausible.

Yeah, but it just might work.

Elka's ready, chief, but are you ready?

Are you ready to give up the sun?

Yes, you could throw this woman in jail

for a victimless crime.

But the second you book her,

this crime does have a victim:

The city of Cleveland.

Let me paint a picture
of the dark days that lay ahead.

You arrest her, and the seamy details

become national news
and Cleveland becomes a joke.

Again.

Remember what they used to call us,

"the mistake by the lake"?

"Burnt river city"?

"Crap town."

But Cleveland can't survive
a scandal like this.

One mayor dies in a secret love nest,

the next mayor tries to cover it up.

Before you know it, we're Cincinnati.

And Cleveland's time
in the sun, well, it's over.

I love this town.

The official word will be that Ted Deacon

died alone in his bed, in his home,

of natural causes,

as the proud mayor of this great city.

- Oh, thank you, chief.
- Oh, that's fantastic.

I could write that story.

And I could kiss this man.

Hey, who's that girl in the red sweater?

So where do we go from here?

Well, I did propose to you.

You could accept this time.

Not yet.

If this is the real thing,

I want ours to be a real courtship.

All right.

Let's talk about our first date.

Hmm, it should be romantic.

Mm-hmm.

But not sex that night.

Maybe no sex for lots of nights.

Because I've slept with
so many men on the first date

just for the physical gratification.

Uh-huh.

I mean, I'd hop into the sack instantly,

do anyone and anything

just because it felt great.

And then wake up feeling
horrible the next day.

But with you, I don't want that.

Do not want that.

And sure,

the thrill of discovering
a new lover's body,

of finding new ways to pleasure a man

was always exciting.

But was anybody happy?

I want things to be perfect with you,

no matter how long it takes.

I want it to be special.

Yes.

Special.