Lost Girl (2010–2016): Season 1, Episode 12 - (Dis)Members Only - full transcript

A friend from Kenzi's past asks for her help in finding out what happened to a missing relative. To do so, Bo and Dyson pose as a married couple to investigate a country club while Kenzi works as an employee there. They discover that a Dark Fae, called a Land Wight, is responsible for the many disappearances there. Dyson demands that Trick tells Bo what they know or he will. Dyson and Bo come to an understanding about their relationship. But Saskia returns and tries to kill Dyson, however Bo saves Dyson at the last moment.

There's all kinds of rifle action
here, here, and here.

I will be on the other side of the ridge,
papa bear, so you don't have to worry.

And let me just say for the record,
what an ass.

- Hello, beautiful.
- Hi.

Planning a raid
on some backwoods moonshiners?

Hell, no.
Scored myself a long weekend.

So I'm going bear hunting.

Orange vests, rifles
and beer coolers. Sign me the hell up.

That ain't the way I hunt, babe.

Listen, if you kill Yogi and Boo Boo,
I am never talking to you again.

- You part of this sunny expedition?
- Shit.



Closest I get to a bear
is a rug in front of a fireplace.

My boy's forest playtime
is strictly a solo affair.

Hang on. You've been so busy at work
that we've barely seen each other...

...and you're gonna spend the weekend
in the woods?

We could go away together.

Oh, my God.
Is that too relationshipy?

Just enough.
What do you have in mind?

I don't know.
Why don't you come over...

...and we can put our heads together,
come up with some place.

You and I put our heads together,
we don't do a lot of figuring.

I can never tell if they're on or off.

I'd put money on them fighting again
in two weeks and back to square one.

I pick the 14th
for them hitting the skids.

Closest one to the date
wins 20 bucks.



In the event of a tie, we go down
to the hour and the minute.

Deal, buddy.

Life is hard
when you don't know who you are.

It's harder
when you don't know what you are.

My love carries a death sentence.

I was lost for years,
searching while hiding...

...only to find that I belong to a world
hidden from humans.

I won't hide any more.

I will live the life I choose.

The Balamar Spa looks nice.

Three words: "green tea colonies."

That sounds so refreshing.

Okay.
How about the Wobomack B&B?

Yeah.
That one's run by a couple of fairies.

Literally. Like wings and everything.
Flitting around. Not relaxing.

And whom, pray tell,
did you go there with?

Actually, don't answer that.
Let's just pick one.

Well, then it's got
to be the theme motel.

Look, they got a pirate room.

You've been alive for centuries
and you're still an 8-year-old boy.

I'm sorry to interrupt rubber-ducky
time, but we've got a client consult.

- Now?
- Yes.

A guy I know
from my less than legit exploits.

Sol kind of owe him.

So thank you.

Nice timing, Kenzi.

Any time, baby.

Great.

So, what's up?

Hi. Kenzi says you're a PI
or some shit.

Yeah, I solve problems.

Rad, man, I got a big problem. My
cousin, Thumper, he's gone missing.

Your cousin's a rabbit?

What? No. it's like a street name.

You know, this one
used to be called Meow Meow.

- Anybody want a beer?
- Meow Meow?

Look, he's only been in the country
three months now...

...and he's an illegal.

What makes you think
he's gone missing?

Cheers. We work together.

Monday,
doesn't show up for his ride home.

- Where's work?
- Queensdale Country Club.

I got him a job.
Takes care of the grounds.

Neville works in the kitchen.

Well, I'm assuming
you asked around work.

Man, I took a nine iron
to his boss' skull for answers.

Know what he says?
"He left midway through his shift."

Like, no work ethic
because he's foreign.

And you can't go to the cops.

Can't go to the cops
unless I want him deported.

Man...that club, okay?

- There's weird-ass stuff that goes on.
- We're listening.

Like they go out of their way
to hire illegals.

They came to me asking
if I had any friends and relatives...

...that wanna work under the table.
- Work for nothing.

Maybe these rich people
are selling them into slavery...

...or maybe stealing their organs.

Sorry.
I know this sounds crazy to you.

Don't worry.
We've heard much weirder, trust me.

We're gonna find out what happened
to him. Cross my heart, man.

Cross my heart.

Thanks. That's the old Meow Meow.

Any more tips that you can give us?

Yeah, this gossip queen at the club
is this chick named Blake.

If anything goes down,
she knows where to start looking.

How do you guys plan
on getting close, anyway?

No way.

I would be the one undercover
as kitchen staff.

You get to pretend to be a member
and live the good life.

You have a great time, alone.

I'm on vacation, remember?

My cover will work better
if you come in as my husband.

Is that a proposal?

You would be helping me
do a solid for a friend.

He's your pal. He's not mine.

Remind me, what was that time...

...where you were wanted for murder
and I covered your ass?

You totally saved his life too.

Now that you mention it,
I think you're right.

Without asking for anything
in return.

Come on, you are gonna look so sweet
in a polo shirt and a pair of chinos.

Forty-seven acres
of the country club.

I supervised construction
on every inch of this heaven.

Let's come into my office.

Harvard, Oxford.

Sailed in the Governor's Cup.
This is great stuff.

Do you ever find
you have problems...

...keeping up
with your wife's employment?

No, bank is generous with transfers
when you're top tier.

How long have you been with U.N.,
Mrs. Thornwood?

Oh, three years.

One in Germany and two in Belgium.

Working in human rights
is so rewarding.

Sure. And I bet you rub shoulders
with some heavy hitters.

Those U.N. parties
must be something.

Well, Dyson finds them quite tedious.

So I'm looking
for a more enthusiastic plus one.

I don't think we're gonna have
any problem green-lighting.

You should hear from us
in about a month.

Mitch, we were rather hoping
to join the club--

As soon as possible.

- Would today work?
- That would make me very happy.

One probationary membership
coming right up.

Two.

Two probationary memberships
coming up.

You are such a peach.
I could just eat you right up.

If you want, I can give you
a personal orientation tour.

Oh, no. We don't wanna take you away
from your busy work.

But there is one member
we've heard so much about.

- Blake something?
- Blake Jorgenson. Yeah.

She's a bit of a:

She's always on the tennis court.

Okay, great. We'll find her.

And, Mitch, we will see you later.

Long way from Venezuela.

Si, sf, I am working my way
around the continent...

...kitchen to kitchen.

You plan on sticking around
for a few months?

At least.

Though I hear
you have a high turnover...

...especially when it comes
to people without visas.

Don't screw up.
No one will call Immigration, I promise.

What about the members?

Any horror stories
I should know about?

Oh, they're all nouveau riche.

Most have what they have
because of connections and luck.

It's not because they're endowed
with talent or brains.

Stay on their good side,
but don't let them intimidate you.

Hey.

And no snacking on the job.

That's a fireable of fence.

Si, senora.

Nice backhand.

Perfected it on my ex-husband.

I'm Bo Thornwood.
This is my husband, Dyson.

- Fresh blood?
- Just joined. Been out of the country.

We've been traveling, I'm rusty.

A good stiff one
usually loosens me right up.

- Excuse me?
- Drink. Stiff drink.

- I'm Blake.
- Yeah, I know.

I would love to get the scoop
on this place from a real insider.

Do you have lunch plans?

Well, aren't you two adorable?
Let's go.

Here's the truth.

This place is nothing
but a bunch of ass-kissing wannabes.

Most of them are peasants in Gucci.

I'm not sure they even played fair
to get what they have.

You're very good at that, senora.

Thank you, senor.

Are we talking dodgy accounting
or...?

Mitch and Chloe
have this rather exclusive clique.

- And Chloe is?
- His wife. The bitch of them all.

Look at her.

Cheap teeth, cheap tan, cheap tits.

It beats me what they get up to...

...but they've all made each other
obscenely rich.

And which closed doors
would those be?

Every month their little group
has an after-hours...

...invite-only Scotch tasting.
There's one tonight, in fact.

Probably to plot world domination.

Well, sounds pretty juicy.
I'd love a peek.

- Are you kidding me?
- Oh, senora, I'm so sorry.

What is your name?

I'm sorry.

Remind me to tip that one.

Complaint's already been logged
against you. That's one strike, kid.

Oh, sorry, jefe.
It won't happen again.

No, it better not.
Every strike goes in the file.

There's a file?

Mitch keeps it.
Every screwup by every staff member.

Neville, get the soup base started.
I'm gonna go pick some fresh squash.

Yes, chef.

Watch yourself
or you'll be out before you know it.

Thumper had two strikes
before he disappeared.

The manager's wife was itching
to fire him.

- Blake, honey.
- Oh, Lord.

You submitted
your nomination papers?

- I did. Was there some problem?
- No. No.

Just wanted to have an informal chat,
board chair to nominee.

- Make sure we're on the same page.
- Why?

Well, if I like your platform,
I can give you my sway.

Your reign's ending, Chloe.
But when I get my seat on the board...

...you're gonna see
a lot more dividends come my way.

That's what I was afraid of.

Fore.

I think we made a mistake
with your membership, Blake.

You're not Queensdale material
after all.

She's all yours.

You're in real trouble, missy.

There may be nothing
anybody can do to help you.

Excuse me. I have to go
meet somebody about something.

You are really good
at this undercover stuff.

Who knew
you could be so duplicitous, huh?

- I've got my secrets.
- Oh, yeah?

You can't keep any secrets from me.

It's just one of the things
that I love about you.

Off till my late shift.

Oh, God, public transit sucks tail.

Senorita,
the servant's entrance is in the rear.

Yeah, bite my rear, dog breath.

I had to stand on the subway
for 45 minutes...

...while a woman clipped her nails
in my face...

...and a guy was poking what I hope
to be a baguette into my back. Okay?

And my feet really, really hurt.
Please give me a foot massage.

Well, what did you find out?

That the club
does employ tons of illegals...

...and a bunch of them
have gone missing.

Oh, my God, that's amazing.

Oh, my God, I can almost forget
how mad I am at you.

Know any Fae
that prey on foreign employees?

Nothing points to this being Fae.

Oh, come on. Somebody
is disappearing immigrant workers.

Oh, and I think you should know...

...our client's cousin
was on the wife's hit list.

Apparently he was a real slack-ass,
so ...

That is not a reason to kill someone.

These people
are just working elsewhere.

My gut says otherwise,
and come on, so does yours.

I'll get Hale to do a background check.
Maybe raise a flag.

I say we crash that Scotch tasting.

See if we can infiltrate
their inner circle.

- Think you can get us in?
- Watch me.

Well, lookie, everyone getting
all glamorous for a night out.

Yeah, well, some of us are having
less glamorous nights than others.

So thanks, guys.

What did you find?

Spent all afternoon digging
into club members' finances.

It still creeps me out that the Fae
can access bank accounts.

Really? It creeps me out...

...that they consider humans
to be one of the four food groups.

In case anybody is wondering,
I'm sure the creepy groundskeeper...

...is sizing me up to fit in a bun.

Must have just been looking
for a snack.

Anyway, only strange thing
I turned up...

...is plenty of the members had
significant bumps in their accounts...

...shortly after joining the club.

Maybe it's a kickback scheme
from payoffs or bribes. Who knows?

Thumper got iced out
because he found something.

Plan of attack,
hit these people up for information...

...and figure out exactly
how they got their sudden wealth.

- And while we do that--
- Let myself into Herr director's office...

...and see if I can find anything.

- I'll have your back.
- Yeah.

- Can I have a gun?
- No.

- Grenades?
- No.

A magic sword? Come on.

- Are you modeling for J. Crew?
- What do you want, Saskia?

Oh, I don't know,
a 2417 international orgy...

...but I'll settle
for a night on the town.

- That's a no from me.
- Oh, come on, be a sport.

I don't like how we left things.
I think we need a fresh start.

And there's a debauched rock band
in town.

Sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll at a level
so high you need NASA training.

I have plans.

With the Ken doll?

You're not serious.

What if it is serious?

Oh, honey,
are you going around with him?

Is he your steady? That would make
you the lamest Succubus in history.

- Good night, Saskia.
- You don't know what you're missing.

It's chilly outside.
Don't forget your sweater.

Who was that?

Just an old client.

Someone I couldn't help.

What do you say we have James
bring the car around?

Indeed.

Okay, let's go.

We don't usually let newcomers
join our little soiree.

We're so grateful. Aren't we, babe?

Oh, we are so grateful.

See, we really believe in community,
Mitch.

We can tell that you
are exactly our kind of people.

Oh, everyone will find you
quite simpatico.

Now, there is one thing.
This isn't your standard Scotch tasting.

Welcome to Scotch night.

Hey, newbies.

Come on in. The water's perfect.

You're a little too good at that,
short stuff.

It's a vocation.

And call me short one more time,
and I'm gonna cut you.

Temper's short.

I'd say you're a little touchy tonight.

If you were on these rich freaks'
hit list, you would be touchy too.

So take a look at the damn files
and I'm gonna boot up this bad boy.

A little spicy.

Well, let the long night
of research begin.

- Welcome to half my job.
- I know, right? Same old story.

You and me do grunt work
while Bo and Dyson get all the glory.

Let's hope tonight they are suffering.

So this is nice.

Yes, it's delightful.
So much better than hunting.

You hunt? That's so primal.

You have no idea.

So, Blake, she's not part
of these little soirees of yours?

She seems pretty A-list to me.

Blake is a valued member,
but she's not really a team player.

Oh, midnight snack.
What's on the menu?

Grilled flatbread
with tomato and chives...

...mixed vegetables
with a squash tapenade.

Amy's food is to die for.
And it's all fresh from our own garden.

My darling.

I would say
that Mitch is hiding something.

I would say he's not hiding enough.

- Hi.
- Oh, yeah.

There's nothing
in the damn computer.

Stories are about members' success
and dated after each joined the club.

What kind of success?

Job promotions, business expansion,
real-estate deals.

Not to mention all their appearances
in the society pages. Hey.

Belonging to this club
means you have arrived.

Maybe it's a secret society and they're
pulling strings for each other.

What do you have
in the employee files?

Well, it's really stupid but Mitch
left files on all the illegal workers.

Which you'd figure
is not the smartest thing...

...from a law enforcement
point of view.

Oh, my God, look at this.
Strikes for screwing up on the job.

I already have two strikes.
What the hell?

You should be more worried
about that picture.

Oh, wow, looks like, yeah,
the most anyone has is three.

Come on, get down.

The groundskeeper.
He told me I was in trouble.

And he said
that nobody could help me.

All right. Relax, little mama.

Do not call me little.

Okay. All right. Calm down.
Stop shaking.

I can't. I'm scared. Have you
seen the guy? He's so creepy.

Okay, all right. Come closer then.

- Okay.
- Stay close.

- God.
- Closer.

No, get closer.

This is not a sexy undercover moment.
God.

No, ma'am. We are all business.

Get your files. I hope Bo and Dyson are
getting something useful on their end.

Positive energy.

We put it into the world
and it comes back to you tenfold.

That's why I love this place. You can
taste the energy flowing between us.

Isn't that right, dear?

Tastes like success.

And don't worry, don't worry.
We are very, very discreet.

We didn't realise.

Oh, I did.

That interview, coming onto me
with your hubby watching.

- Fantastic. Come on.
- Showing up here tonight...

...without an invitation...

...or a bathing suit.

Knew right away
you were our kind of couple.

Don't be shy.

We're not.

Unfortunately,
I have an early morning.

Maybe another time.

Right.

Another time.

Okay,
would you just spit it out already?

- What was your problem tonight?
- Just not my scene, okay?

So you're not a swinger, Dyson.
Big f ricking newsflash.

You blow a chance to get more info?

How do women
wear these frigging shoes?

Just find a less sleazy way
of getting our information.

Hey.

You talk to me.

- I don't wanna share you, Bo.
- What?

I don't want anyone else's hands on
your body, anyone's mouth on yours.

I know this is the last thing
you wanna hear.

Why wouldn't I wanna hear?

Because you're a Succubus. it's not
in your nature to be monogamous.

I am fighting my nature for you.

I am more than just my species.

I don't see you running around
howling at the moon...

...and chasing rabbits all day.

- That's a good point.
- I know.

Look, I've been through
more relationships than you.

And I know that lying
about who you are...

...and trying to change the person
you care about never ends well.

I can be intense.

I can be territorial.
And God knows I can be mule-headed.

But I'm also yours...

...if you'll have me.

Dyson, you are an idiot.

You've been mine
for a very long time.

You better be careful
because wolves mate for life.

Well, you don't scare me
and I am not making any promises.

And I'm not asking for any in return.

- Except one.
- What's that?

We keep talking like this.

We stay honest.

The only chance we have
of making this work...

...is if there are no secrets
between us.

You promise?

No secrets. I promise.

And can I just say "wow"?

That is the most amount of words
I have ever heard you say.

- No more words.
- No more words.

Nice threads.

- Rules are rules. No booze before 11.
- I'm not here for a drink.

You look like you could use one.

I'm done, Trick.

No more keeping secrets from Bo.

Either you tell her or I will,
by tonight.

Tell her what?

Everything.

I wish you hadn't told me
they're swingers.

I feel everybody checking me out
on the boinkability index.

They only boink other members.

Great. They'll kill me then.

File says workers have three strikes
against them.

I have two.
And I racked up another one.

Kenzi, nobody's going to kill you.

Well, tell that to Neville's cousin.

Well, that is something.
Thanks, mate.

- Hale?
- Yeah.

The next year's budget came down
for our department.

- Good or bad?
- We got a 10 percent bump.

Well, that's good, right?

It's weird.

And apparently, they used me
as the poster boy for the increase.

Don't play humble.
You love it, Mr. Thornwood.

Like I said, it's weird.

Maybe prosperity in this place
is contagious.

Maybe.

Coffee? More coffee?

So I asked around and that woman,
Blake, never checked out yesterday.

Maybe she forgot.

Rita in housekeeping
saw Mitch driving Blake's car.

Hale said something else.
That file you gave him?

He checked the names and the ones
with three strikes are disappearing.

Oh, that's fantastic.
That proves my point.

I am murder Fae bait.

And when they kill me,
I'm never talking to you ever again.

- Say we take a walk around?
- I think that's a lovely idea.

Not me. Not me.

Oh, I'm done for.

You know,
this would not be such a horrible life.

It's almost boring.

Boring, huh?

I look forward to you boring me
for a long time to come.

Me too.

What's that?

It's a lottery ticket.

Must have dropped
from somebody's pocket.

Oh, honey...

...I think I just won $25,000.

What's that about members
becoming suddenly successful?

Yeah,
this is all getting really creepy.

Hey.

- Don't do that.
- I'm sorry. Forgive me?

- Did you find anything?
- No, not even a scent.

You wanna bet Blake came out this way
and never came back?

Look at this.

It stinks out here.

Oh, my God!

What do you wanna make a bet
this is Blake?

It's human remains, all right.

DNA matches the hair strands
Kenzi got from Blake's locker.

And also the sample you got
from the gardener's cousin.

- Lovely.
- I got more.

All sorts of DNA in that stew.

Including trace amounts of Fae.

As in, a Fae left some behind
while killing a bunch of humans?

That would be my guess.

Any ID on the Fae?

Not in our database.

But I mean, come on, how many Fae
volunteer to donate DNA, right?

This is getting way too gross
to play it coy any more.

- What do you have in mind?
- Always preferred the direct approach.

Loved it. She used to be a gymnast.

- Hi, Mitch.
- Yeah, I'm in the middle of something.

- I'm gonna call you back.
- I told you he'd be mad.

I am so sorry we ran out on you
last night.

- Well, just when the fun was starting.
- She'd like to make it up to you, Mitch.

We know that Blake is dead.

And we know that you and your hot-tub
buddies like to get rich from murder.

We wanna know how it all works.

We're not the only ones
who reap the benefits.

Every member gets something
out of it.

- Everyone?
- How?

Hey, I swear I don't even know.

Tell us.

I don't know how it works.

But I was handpicked
by the previous director to take charge.

He entrusted me with the secret.

What secret?

Well, every member of the club
gets ahead in life...

...in exchange for some of us
performing sacrifices on their behalf.

Human sacrifices?

Yes, human sacrifices.

Now, come on. Don't stop.

Just how does it all work?

We get our little group together,
you know, and pick a sacrifice.

Like a member of the staff.

And we go out to the woods
and then something feeds on them.

What kind of something?

I don't know. Maybe plants.

All so you can have success.

And I don't know how it works,
but every member reaps the rewards.

And our victims, their deaths,
they benefit the society.

These are illegal immigrants.
They're not even supposed to be here.

That sounds reasonable.

We only pick the ones
that are incompetent.

Nice management style.

Sounds like Dark Fae to me.

If that's the case, the only rule that's
broken is exposing itself to humans.

Meaning?

Meaning, it's an infraction
for the Dark to punish.

I can't intervene.

But I can make sure
this piece of garbage...

...doesn't remember
the last five years.

Good times are over, Mitch.
You won't even remember them.

Okay, so all I have to do is find
and defeat a mysterious Fae?

Great.

Good luck.

So there's this Fae
and it's gonna eat me. Eat me.

Not if we can find it first.

Any help here, Trick?

If a forest-dwelling Fae,
could be any number of species.

Well, we've got something
that might help with that.

Leftovers.

Feeding by-product.

Hoping you might have an opinion
or two about it.

Have the club members
been receiving good fortune?

You're gonna say that's bad,
aren't you?

Oh, that's not good at all.

We're dealing with an evil florist?

It's a Land Wight.

It's a Nature Fae
that lives in harmony with land.

A Fae hippie?

More of a shifter.

It can become indistinguishable
from plants it takes care of.

Explains why Dyson
couldn't pick up the scent.

It flourishes
in an organic environment.

Its strength,
but could be its weakness.

What does this have to do
with success?

Well, anything that grows in this
becomes incredibly tasty...

...and brings prosperity
to anyone who eats it.

So this Wight likes to eat people.

It secretes a digestive juice
onto its victim to soften it up...

...and then swallows
the resulting mass.

And then the product waste
becomes fertilizer for the plants.

Wait a minute.
This fertilizer is Fae poop?

Circle of life.

On, God.

Wasn't me
who had to eat the gross thing.

- Why did I eat that salad?
- Hey, look sharp, okay? I'm in danger.

Kill this Land Wight
before I'm pushing up the rutabagas.

Okay. Right.
Who is most likely to be a Land Wight?

Somebody connected to nature.

Using fertilizer.

- Creepy groundskeeper.
- Creepy groundskeeper. Okay.

So you get to the kitchen, okay?

And do whatever you can to stop them
from serving any more food.

I'll deal with him.

- You sure?
- Yeah.

- Be careful. Okay.
- Okay. Bye.

You are so going down.

- Not without a case of indigestion, girl.
- What?

And I'll burn on my way out.
You're not gonna eat me.

Hey, I am not not eating you.
You are not not eating me.

You're the Land Wight?

I'm the groundskeeper.
You work for the monster.

You've got this all wrong, buddy.

You feed us
whatever makes that garden grow.

- How do you know?
- Groundskeeper over 30 years.

Nothing natural grows like that.

Especially after people
start disappearing.

Everything grows and we're
not allowed to use herbicide?

I am here trying to figure out
what is happening. I am undercover.

You're a cop?

I'm here to kill that plant thing.
Who is it?

Been trying to figure that myself.

Well, who else has a vested interest
in the garden?

On, God.

Oh, no, no, no.

No. Stop, stop, stop.

It's the garden.
It's an attack of the mutant tomatoes.

Neville, give us a moment.

What are you doing?

These are dangerous to the staff.
Do you know what these grew out of?

I most certainly do.

This is not my day.

Venus flytrap mother--

Get your slimy vines off of her
or I will chop them off.

No human talks to me like that
and lives.

Who's human?

What's your problem, sister?

You're drooling
all over my friend here.

And, frankly,
eating people is so low rent.

This is my land. I cultivate it.

The creatures I allow to live
on my plants have great lives.

But I gotta eat too.

Why people?

Because you taste so damn good.

They never should have developed
on my territory. Their choice.

Hey, except the ones that you ate
never got to choose.

So this ends as of now.

Oh, you think you can take me?

Try it.

Any bruise, any nick, any cut,
it'll grow back like it never happened.

Really? Well, let's see how you like
the taste of herbicide.

Yeah, villagers and pitchforks
never made a good combo, did they?

You're gonna be a party to murder?

Actually, no, I'm not.
This is between you and your prey.

Kitchen's all yours.

This must be the weirdest thing
you guys ever dealt with.

Yeah, definitely the weirdest thing
we have ever seen.

But none of you can tell anyone
ever.

Yeah, like, who's going to believe us
anyway?

What a freaking nightmare. I still don't
understand what went down, you know.

Yeah, well, some things
are better off as mysteries, you know?

What am I to tell Thumper's parents?
What they gonna live on?

They needed every last penny
he was sending back to them.

Well, it's not much consolation,
but give them the money from this.

You're not gonna...

...wait another minute to help
this poor man's family, are you?

No, I can't accept this.

- Trust me. Those winnings aren't mine.
- Take it.

Take it.

Thank you.

Thanks.

- What's it saying?
- Chatter. Land Wight killed by humans.

Nobody suspects Bo's involvement.

So no one will come looking
for revenge. Awesome.

And Mitch
is having his memory erased...

...by the drunk
in the holding cell next to him.

What about his buddies?

Well, now that the Wight's dead, their
prosperity should take a nosedive.

The faster they rise,
the more devastating the fall.

Better watch your fortunes then,
Mr. Country Club.

Lucky for me,
I barely touched the food.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Hey, by the way,
the paperwork, it's all yours.

- How's that for a start?
- Thank you.

Did you talk to Bo?

It wasn't the right time.

For something like this,
there is never a right time.

Dyson, please.

Why, yes, I could use the longest,
hardest back rub.

We gotta talk.

- We're talking.
- Not over the phone. it's important.

- Are you still mad about the polo shirt?
- No.

Look, I gotta go to the cop shop.
Can I come over after?

As I recall, your office
gets pretty empty this time of night.

- Why don't I bring you dinner?
- Remember how to let yourself in?

Desk sergeants are like putty
in my hands.

I'll see you in a bit.

Can I help you?

Actually, I think I can help you.

I'm the one you've been looking for.

Now do you know who I am?

Say my name, bitch.

Say my name.

Aife.

This is embarrassing.

You weren't supposed to see this.

Hey, come on. Stay with me.

You are one hell of a toxic friend.

Doing you a favour.
It's not like he put up much of a fight.

Try me.

A Succubus letting a man own her ass?
Not on my watch.

Come on, sweetie,
we'll be good for each other.

You know,
you're really a hard friend to help.

Come on. Come on.
Stay with me, Dyson.

Come on. Stay with me.

Come on.
Oh, I don't know how to do this.

Come on.

Come on. Come on. Stay with me.

Come on.

Okay.

- Bo.
-It's okay. I'm here. it's okay.

It's okay. it's okay. it's okay.

Bo, I'm so sorry.

It's okay. You're okay.

You're okay.