Lucifer (2015–…): Season 2, Episode 8 - Trip to Stabby Town - full transcript

Lucifer seeks Azrael's blade when he discovers it's been used in a string of violent stabbings linked to a local yoga studio.

Previously on Lucifer... I don't care much for my dad.
But you clearly... care about yours.
I think he would be proud of you.
Uriel, that's Azrael's blade.
You're not planning on taking Mum back to Hell.
That weapon will wipe her out of existence entirely.
No Heaven, no Hell, just...
gone.
Why do you feel guilty?
Uriel didn't just die.
I killed him.
I need you to be honest with me
about who you are.
No more lies.
Very well.
This is where Lucifer buried your brother.
Why did he do this?
Lucifer was just trying... No, Mom.
Not Lucifer. Father.
If he wanted to, he could have
prevented all of this from happening.
I'm done trying to please someone who isn't even here.
What the hell?!
Aah! Get off me!
Help!
Help...!
Stop! Stop!
- Leave her alone! - Hey, man, stop!
Wait. It's you?
You're kidding me, right?
We can totally work this out.
And so there we were, the detective and I,
standing in her kitchen, and...
she made me...
a sandwich.
I believe this is the part where you tell me
it's much more than just a sandwich.
For example...
maybe it was a gesture of intimacy.
You know, the slices of bread representing, perhaps,
the detective's trust.
Or... was it a mistrustful sandwich?
I...
Doctor, please,
what delicious message was she sending me?
What about Hitler?
The sandwich is Hitler?
How did you actually torture Hitler in Hell?
Uh... I mean, is his cell next to Idi Amin's?
Or Mussolini's?
Or is there kind of a-a-a...
a tyrant wing in Hell?
Right.
I suppose it was futile of me to think that you wouldn't want
to discuss the whole... "I'm really the Devil" thing.
The actual Devil?
Look, I have to say...
I was worried I'd never see you again.
I thought I'd...
scared you off for good. Yes,
well, Maze, of all people...
well, of all...
demons...
gave me some needed clarity.
Did she, now?
Yes. Right. Well,
speaking of clarity, do you mind if we return
to my current emotional growth?
Oh. Yes.
Sorry.
Apology accepted.
So, um...
what do you think it means?
What about my Uncle Edwin?
Is he down there? I mean, 'cause he was...
you know....
one... he was one bad mama jama.
I think I've broken my therapist.
And now she's somewhere to the left of totally useless
and to the right of babbling lunatic.
Oh, so she's you in a skirt.
Very funny. This is serious, Detective.
I'm actually a bit worried for her.
Hmm, I'm sure she'll be fine,
but if you need anyone to talk to, I'm here.
This is actually something I can't discuss with you.
What? I'm sure I can handle it.
I've seen all your ugly parts by now.
Not even close, I'm afraid.
Saved by the Douche.
Our victim's name is Maddie Howard.
She was attacked when she left her apartment.
The assailant chased her down the alley
and stabbed her repeatedly.
19 times, to be exact.
Overkill is usually a crime of passion-- they probably
knew each other.
She was killed in broad daylight?
There must have been witnesses. Yeah,
a bunch, but depending on who you ask,
the killer was a male who's either Hispanic,
Caucasian or black, short or tall, brown or blond hair,
or completely bald.
So we're dealing with a shapeshifter.
Well, eyewitness testimonies can be unreliable.
Yeah, people's ojos go a little loco.
Evidence, however, does not lie.
We got substantial bruising to the skin,
blade penetrated not only soft tissue but also bone.
So the killer was big and strong.
Also, blond head hair, so odds are really good
we're looking for a white guy. - Hey, guys.
Got something over here. Tourist caught the beginning moments
of the attack in the background of a photo.
Did you get a look at the killer?
No, but look at this-- we got a good look at the weapon.
Pretty insane. Looks like a movie prop or something.
Can't be.
What do you mean, "Can't be"?
A movie prop. Those things are rubber, aren't they?
What?
I have to go.
I don't really have time for a hike, Lucifer.
Bounty business is booming, okay?
So this better be important.
It is.
Is this...?
Where Lucifer buried Uriel. Yeah.
Okay.
So if you two want to cry it out, I'll be in the car.
What's happened, Lucifer?
Well, someone dug up the grave. Yeah,
I can see that.
But why?
Uriel's body is still there. Yes,
but Azrael's blade isn't.
I believe the weapon of the Angel of Death
is in human hands.
So let me get this straight: in human hands, Azrael's blade
wants to kill?
It demands to be used to...
to fulfill its purpose. Humans are more...
malleable than we are, so it whispers in their ears,
beckons to be held-- it takes any reason someone might want
to hurt another and... Amplifies it
a thousandfold. - So if someone
leaves the toilet seat up...
Trip to stabby town, yes.
That's one angry-ass knife.
Yes, well,
it was stolen from the Angel of Death.
Sis is no sweet peach, is she?
Listen, we're wasting time here.
We need to find the blade.
Why?
So a few meter maids bite the dust, who cares?
People off each other all the time.
No, Maze, you don't understand.
This will accelerate.
Passing from human to human, leaving an unimaginable trail
of destruction in its wake.
Yes, nasty little thing.
We need to retrieve it.
Oh, I'm so glad you're on board with this, Luci.
I mean, who would've thought that bringing celestial objects
to Earth might lead to such destruction?
Ooh, I like the smug.
Much sexier than the earnest.
I'm just surprised that you would actually take
a little bit of responsibility.
I thought an unmarked grave in the middle of nowhere
would be safe enough.
Clearly I was wrong.
But... I clean up my messes.
Well, good luck, you two.
You'll want to help, Maze.
No, thanks.
Let me remind you, I have a job.
And let me remind you that the blade doesn't just kill humans.
It also obliterates celestial beings,
including demons.
So, say the detective were to find it and bring it home...
I get snuffed out for not doing the dishes.
Which is why
the detective can't be part of this investigation.
Now,
I'll need you two to move Uriel's body.
Somewhere it won't be found this time.
Very well.
And one note,
you're to do so without disturbing the grave site
in the slightest, specifically that footprint there.
Why?
Because I'm going to get an expert to help me examine it.
You need a favor?
Yes, your scientific expertise on a discreet matter.
Mm.
Paternity test?
What? Do I look like someone who'd be so irresponsible?
Uh, regardless, if you do this favor for me,
then I'll do a favor for you in return.
Lucifer,
the whole point of a favor is to do it for free, okay?
And then you just trust the love will come back to you somehow.
Favors are about faith.
Ugh. Please don't ruin favors for me.
Look, come on, I insist.
Tit for tat.
Fine, um...
Well, there is something that I would like.
Mm?
But I'm not sure you can handle it.
Oh, well, now I'm intrigued.
I mean, it might be a little...
inappropriate among colleagues.
Oh, right, even better.
Well, why don't you, uh...
Well... - Okay, so...
Oh.
Oh, no, no.
Definitely not.
You're the one who wanted tit for tat.
Yes, if only it were that simple.
All right, fine.
You have a deal.
Gosh, you're a nasty little nerd, aren't you?
Right. Here we are.
Does your favor involve killing me?
I'm just kidding, no.
I need you to do your forensic whatnots
and work out what disturbed this area.
Uh, you mean this empty grave?
Look,
you said to me that favors were about faith, right?
Yeah.
Well, I'm asking you to have faith in me.
And know that I wouldn't ask anything untoward of you.
You know, when you use my own words against me like that,
it's actually really hard to say no.
I know.
There's some very interesting footprints over there.
Well, it looks like we got a man's sneaker.
Okay, I'll take a mold, but assuming
it's one of the major brands, I mean, you're looking at a pool
of, like, two million dudes in L.A.
Maybe 10,000 robust ladies.
Well, I was hoping for something a little more specific.
Thai's not how analytical science works.
Whoa.
Someone tried to burn something.
It looks like there's writing on one s...
side.
Yeah, I should be able to reconstruct this at the lab.
Ah, excellent.
Right, whilst you do that, I'll get back to the detective.
Oh, and remember...
Yeah, don't tell anyone
about your super creepy non-grave grave.
Got it.
So you worked here with the deceased?
We didn't just work together.
I mean, Maddie was a friend.
The person who introduced me to the Glory Way.
God, I can't believe that she's dead.
I'm sorry. The glory what?
The glory hole.
The Glory Way.
Ah. Developed by
our guru, Jenson Glory.
The Glory Way is a mind and body sensibility system
designed to reveal what we call
the "home you."
Right. Do people actually believe
the word salad that you're selling?
'Cause, I mean, look,
I enjoy a taut, spandex-wrapped backside
as much as the next chap,
but that was one large helping of spiritual gobbledy-gook.
Follow Jenson's teachings and you will uncover your true self.
And what if
your true self is a 400-pound nimrod with flatulence issues?
Just saying. Some things are better left buried.
Given the specifics of the murder,
we're looking for someone who had a real hatred for Maddie.
Does anyone come to mind?
No. Maddie was a wholesome soul, a true light.
What about petty grievances?
Perhaps Maddie drank someone's probiotic smoothie
or did one too many peacock poses for someone's taste?
Lucifer. No.
Just... think.
There must be some little disagreements.
So why don't you write us up a list?
Anyone who so much as raised a patchouli-scented eyebrow
in Maddie's direction could be the killer.
See... Excuse us.
That's not the profile
of the murderer we're investigating.
I'm just being thorough, Detective.
Like you said, "Shake the bushes until the truth flies free."
I don't think I've ever said that before.
No? Uh-uh.
Oh. Perhaps it was Ms. Lopez.
Mm. You've been spending a lot of time with Ella.
You know, working together, I mean.
Not particularly.
Hmm.
Shall we see how this list is getting on?
Mm-hmm.
Glad to see you're hard at work.
You know, studies show that the brain does some of its best work
when it's not trying.
That's why great ideas come in the shower.
For me, it's usually women. Hmm.
Any progress so far?
Damn straight. Hmm.
I...
rehydrated that burnt piece of paper
we found at your super creepy place
using polyvinyl acetate.
Oh, it's easy for you to say. I ran these pieces
through a pattern recognition program,
and I found two things.
First...
what looks to be a map
leading from downtown L.A. to that exact spot you took me to.
Right. What was the second thing?
Some business logo of a law firm.
What law firm?
Bloody hell.
I said no interruptions, so unless
you're that broad-shouldered intern from this morning...
Hello, Mum.
Oh.
Hello, son.
It appears you've been busy.
I was getting bored with my mate and offspring,
so I thought I'd dive into my employment.
Not that hard once you read the law books.
What law books?
Well, all of them.
Took less than a weekend
with time to teach the hubby
new tricks.
Have you ever heard of something called the reverse cowgirl?
Well, I'm thrilled,
Mum, really, I am.
Here you are studying law and the Kama Sutra.
And drawing maps to Uriel's grave!
Did someone find the blade?
Oh, so you admit that you led a human to it?
Well, not a human. More like ten.
Ten? Maybe 12. Uh...
But... 15?
Only my craftiest clients.
I mean, I had to make sure that someone would actually
follow through and dig the damn thing up.
Why in the world would you tell people?
What is wrong with you?!
Me? If you didn't want the blade found,
you shouldn't have left it in a hole in the ground!
A filled-in hole in the middle of nowhere,
which no one would've possibly found if not for you.
Yes. Well... there's that.
Besides, where else am I gonna hide it?
Lux? You know how many people traipse through there each week?
Well, I don't know. Your bedroom, then.
Worse. Yes.
You are sexually prolific.
Turns out, you get that from me.
Oh, Mum, why?
Why would you release Azrael's blade into the world?
Because I wanted to get your father's attention.
Your brother,
Uriel-- my son-- died.
Do you think it's crazy that I wanted to talk about it?
Mourn with him, maybe?!
I... So I reached out,
and guess what I got back.
Nothing. Yes.
Like always.
So I figured that if his toys started stabbing each other
with a celestial blade, that maybe he might take a moment.
Humans are dying because of you.
Well, humans die.
They all do eventually.
It's what they were designed to do.
Yes, but not like this.
Your vacation here has changed you.
You seem attached to these creatures,
and I can't, for the life of me, figure out why.
Look, you say you want to stay here on Earth,
to live with your sons, right?
So, a choice: willingly help me get the blade back,
or I'll send Maze over here to give you some inspiration.
Hmm. Fine.
You're killing my reverse cowgirl high.
I...
LAPD
investigation, that's right.
Uh, just your whereabouts around 7:00 a.m. this morning.
Okay. Can you prove that?
Right.
Thank you.
So the guy that complained
Maddie didn't have enough cool-down time was
at an ashram in Sedona, so, not our guy.
My pudding's gone.
I'm sorry?
In the break room fridge, my pudding--
clearly labeled "Dan"-- it's gone.
Not the first time, either.
Wow. Do you want me to put some unis on it?
Want me to schedule a stakeout? Are you even okay? No, Chloe.
I'm just saying that a man's snacks-- they're sacred, okay?
Okay. What up, detective people?
Hey. Hey.
Are Lucifer and Ella working on a case that I don't know about?
Mm. Why?
No reason, they just seem to be spending a lot of time together.
Is someone jealous?
What?
No.
No way.
Gross. 'Cause you can tell me if you are.
I mean...
we can be there for each other, as friends.
Even... even if it's about another guy.
Right, but Lucifer's not another guy.
He's a weirdo.
This is about partnership, nothing more.
Partners don't keep secrets.
Well, maybe with Ella,
it's more than just sex, maybe it's...
a little more serious.
Huh?
No, it's not like Lucifer-- I don't think he...
"Not like Lucifer" wha-what?
Likes poker.
Dan has a monthly game.
Oh, no, I love a good gamble.
Count me in.
Right, where's that list of grievances
against poor Maddie?
Oh, it's the... Yeah.
There-- all right, there you go. Lovely, thank you.
Why would you do that?
Okay, now you're making it weird. You're making it weird.
- You're making it weirder. - Sorry.
I'll make it weird on your face.
Duncan Watts is our killer.
What makes you say that?
Well, just a hunch.
Duncan Watts.
His offices are upstairs above the yoga studio.
Oh, and he's Maddie and Corrina's landlord.
Duncan was apparently upset that Maddie kept parking in his spot.
He also tried
to have the yoga studio evicted a few months ago.
Neither of which is really a reason for 19 stabs.
Yes, but just look at his stabby mug, hmm?
Blond hair, thick neck, which suggests Cro-Magnon strength.
Just as our dear Ella guesstimated.
Ah, "dear Ella," hmm.
Where you going?
I'm just off to see this Duncan chap.
No.
We will go together like partners, okay?
Right, yes, I-I just need to make a quick phone call first.
Oh, okay. No worries.
Private phone call, Detective.
Just give me a moment.
Yeah, sure.
You sure this is the right place?
Duncan Watts, Maze.
That's the name Lucifer gave me.
I got nothing.
Yeah, me neither.
Even if we find the blade, it's a temporary fix.
Your mom is the problem.
She released the blade to create chaos,
and you two respond by coddling her.
Nobody's coddling her, all right?
Tell yourself whatever you want,
but you know it's true, and it explains a lot.
Explains what?
Doesn't really matter anymore,
but, just so you know, this whole mama's boy thing?
Kind of a turnoff.
Oh, yeah?
Well, your whole "skintight leather,
hot body everywhere" thing?
Mm-hmm? It's really not that...
It's not-- it's not that-that great.
Yeah, it is.
They're here.
Yeah, we should probably warn Lucifer.
Well? There's no blade.
Right, use the back way out.
Ah, Detective,
you know, after reflection, I think you're right.
Parking space thievery is no motive for murder.
What is going on with you?
First, you're so eager to get here,
you practically jump out of my car before I've parked,
and now you want to leave.
What are you hiding?
Hiding? What would I be hiding?
Blood.
What?
This is Unit 831 requesting backup.
Soul Depot, 15534 Hillgreen Drive.
It's Duncan.
Oh, must've been some parking space.
Uh, Detective.
Yeah.
Seems this class took corpse pose quite literally.
So, no sign of the murder weapon?
Uh-uh.
Are you sure?
Right. Nothing left for us to do here then, I suppose.
Except for figuring out how six people were killed.
I'm thinking the primary killer was Duncan.
Killing Maddie didn't satiate his anger,
so he went after her clients and probably got stabbed
when one of them defended themselves.
I doubt it. More likely the weapon was passed
from one person to the next
in a game of murderous hot potato.
That's insane.
Eh. I know, right?
Totally insane and probably exactly what happened.
I say this with huge respect for the dead,
but this case is totally gonna be a panel
at the next forensic conference.
Okay. So based on my preliminary
assessment of the wounds,
it looks like Duncan came through the door,
attacked victim number two with the same weapon
used to kill Maddie Howard.
But Duncan had ligature marks on his neck,
like someone strangled him
from behind with a yoga strap.
Like... this, here.
Oh. Right?
Which is when he attacked
victim number three.
But victim number three had defensive wounds
that matched skin flecks
under the fingernails of number four,
so I'm thinking Duncan
dropped the knife...
Okay, number four picked it up, right?
Attacked number three, like this. Mmm.
Right, and then at some point,
number five got involved.
And so on and so on, until full yoga massacre.
Oh, that will be what the panel's called,
Full Yoga Massacre
2016. Very good.
Okay, so, say that all happened like you just said it did,
which is crazy.
There are seven mats and seven bodies.
Yeah. So?
So Duncan was the pissed off landlord,
not the class attendee.
Subtract him, we're missing one yogi.
Okay, well, all of the bodies were situated
around these six mats-- the student mats.
So that could be the teacher's mat, maybe.
The teacher must have been here.
Get this.
Teacher training taught by
Jenson Glory himself.
I mean,
his body's not among the dead.
Could be our missing victim.
Slash attacker.
Guy's a piece of work.
Jenson Glory, his real name is Jamie Ostrowski.
Soul Depot is the latest in a long line of
failed fitness enterprises.
Glory has five fraud lawsuits,
two sexual harassment claims working their way
through the court system.
Sexual harassment?
Yeah, former assistants.
Both beautiful young women,
like Maddie.
Oh, and look at the contract that they sign
when students join Soul Depot.
"I surrender myself to Soul Depot,
"body, mind and soul,
"and to the only true guru of health and serenity,
Jenson Glory." Wow.
Pretty much a cult.
Think he brainwashed his students
into a Jonestown type thing?
Kind of a stretch, right?
That a yoga pun?
No. It's an honest question.
I mean, drinking cyanide juice is one thing,
but a bunch of people stabbing each other?
Totally insane!
A magic blade in Los Angeles
which belongs to the Angel of Death?
Now, in the hands of a yogi shyster
who's apparently touchy-feely in more ways than one.
Okay, can we go back
to the Angel of Death?
Is he... uh,
is he another one of your brothers?
Sister, actually.
The Angel of Death is a chick?
Yes, I sort of wish we were
back to talking in metaphors.
That makes two of us. Because I do actually
have things that I'd like to talk about, Doctor.
Oh. Oh, yes. I'm so sorry.
Yes. Please.
Right.
So, my mum asked me why I care so much
about these people dying
and I'm not sure I know.
I mean, it's not like I know them personally,
and Maze is right--
even without Azrael's blade, humans are capricious.
Hell,
they're willing to trade their souls
to lose unsightly tummy fat, but...
So...
why should I feel bad?
Why should I feel responsible?
And... why
am I doing my own therapy?
Lucifer, I'm sorry.
I'm trying to digest this whole thing
myself. And, well,
there is no listing in the DSM-5 for Azrael's Blade Anxiety.
Oh.
Excuse me.
Ah,
the guru with the doo-doo juju has been picked up.
So, I'm afraid that's all we've got time for today.
Just... call me if you need to reschedule.
I wasn't even at the studio, actually.
That's not what the schedule says.
May I have a tea?
Siberian ginseng if you have it.
Well...
Hello, Richard Simmons.
Sorry I'm late.
Where's the knife?
Who is this tense man?
Okay,
back to the teacher training class.
Can you prove that you weren't there?
Of course, there's a computer system--
all of the teachers have to swipe a key card.
Even me. Check it.
So, where were you?
Home.
I missed the last few classes, actually.
I've been... sick.
Obsessing over a new toy, more like.
What are you talking about?
I'm talking about something that's probably beckoning you
as we speak.
Whispering to you
to do terrible things.
Wretched, sinful deeds.
That-- that's true...
I-I want...
Go on, tell me. Tell me what you want,
what you really, really want.
I want...
a raspberry cream cheese muffin.
And-- and-and
to take this thing...
off!
Oh, my... Oh.
Expecting twins, are we?
Hey, I backslid a little bit, all right?
Carbs are the Devil's spawn, man.
Don't blame your weaknesses on me.
Huh? Is that why you didn't show up
to the class? Because you gained weight?
Of course. No one's gonna find their "home self"
from a guru who looks like he ate all the furniture.
Well, I think I'd rather be chubby
than a handsy dipstick in a corset.
That's it.
I want my lawyer now.
Well, don't eat him.
All right, listen, we searched Glory's house,
his car, his other car...
there is no blade.
We did find a safe in the basement.
Pop-Tarts.
Which... you stole?
Ah, I figured it's a win-win.
I'm saving the evil guru from future fat,
and, you know,
Pop-Tarts.
Mr. Glory has a second home in Ventura.
If you wouldn't mind.
Okay, we'll check it out,
but...
Luci, if he's the one with the blade,
he's much more likely to go on a killing spree
than to stash it.
Ah. Come back for your processed pastries?
Ms. Lopez!
Well, this is a surprise.
Have you found something new?
Oh, I found something all right.
Proof of Bigfoot?
Tread on the shoes Duncan Watts was wearing
when he was found dead.
Tread that you showed me
at your super weirdo hole in the ground.
They match, which means that this case
and your favor
are connected.
Start talkin', dude.
Do you have something to do with these murders?
Come clean with me.
Or I can't keep this a secret anymore.
You see, that's just it.
The last person I came clean with
became a tad untethered.
Dude, I grew up in Detroit.
Look,
all I can tell you is
I'm dealing with a matter of cosmic importance
and I ask you to indulge me for just a little longer.
You mean have faith?
Tomato, tomahto.
Well, I guess faith isn't faith
unless it's tested.
Bring it in.
What? Oh.
Ella. Detective.
Oh, um...
I was just...
uh, you see,
there's this, uh, store that has really special...
soap.
And, you know,
but I should really get going now and...
clean stuff with the soap.
Bye! Enjoy your shower.
So, um...
to what do I owe this pleasure?
Jenson's home security system shows video of him sleeping
during the murders, so he wasn't lying about that.
We checked the key card system at Soul Depot,
and guess who was subbing for Jenson.
Corrina,
Maddie's co-manager.
Right, and where's Corrina now?
We checked her house, she wasn't there.
Forensics confirms
that she didn't kill anyone at Soul Depot,
so she's either running, hiding or scared.
I put out a BOLO.
Yeah, I don't think Corrina's the one running this time.
What?
Where are you going?
Hello?
Hello?
Anyone here yielding a deadly, celestial blade?
Huh? Anyone?
Well, that'll be a resounding yes.
I-- I don't know what happened.
I was in class and Duncan barged in.
It was horrible.
All that killing...
and the knife was on the ground.
It started calling you.
Did I do that?
Yes.
You got retribution for a grudge, I believe.
But it wasn't an insignificant grudge, was it?
Did he harass you like the others?
Or was it worse than that?
Years ago.
We were alone in the studio.
I-I-- I said no.
I swear, but he wouldn't stop.
I-I... I tried to forget. I...
You tried to bury it deep, get on with your life.
You might have succeeded,
if not for...
...the blade.
LAPD, hands in the air.
Move away from the body, Corinna.
Now! I... I-I killed him.
I-I did this. I...
Acted in self-defense.
Mr. Glory attacked Corrina first. She had no choice
but to wield that knife, Detective.
I think, in this case, justice has actually been served.
Henderson, take her statement.
Come with me.
Where's the murder weapon?
What?
Unis shouldn't have bagged it without taking photos.
They couldn't help themselves.
Anyone else feeling a murderous urge?
No? The need to slice and dice?
Anyone?
Oh, God.
Oh, no.
Detective Douche... Daniel. Dan.
Why don't you put down the knife, hmm?
Bury the proverbial hatchet and all that?
I mean, I know we've had our differences in the past, but
we're friends now, right?
You ruined my marriage.
I'll take that as a no.
My life went to hell when I met you!
Hey! Well, technically, that's not true, but I understand
the basic metaphor.
Easy with the blade, Detective.
One deep cut, and yours truly could be wiped from existence.
Prayers answered.
What...
Okay, Detective,
I can assure you your current mood will be rectified
by simply putting down the knife.
My entire life imploded because of you.
What? My marriage!
My job.
My snacks.
What?
I know you ate my pudding.
You're really going to smite me
over a tub of sweetened goo?
You're damn right I am.
Dan... Dan.
Recent friend. Growing compatriot.
Your marriage was already on the rocks.
You started cutting procedural corners way before I arrived,
and as for your pudding...
As for your pudding, I...
Okay, yes.
I sometimes lay waste to the precinct fridge.
But have mercy, Daniel.
How was I supposed to know it was yours?
Because it was labeled!
You're fighting the blade, which indicates a strength
I didn't know you had. Look at me in the eye.
Look at me.
Your marriage.
Did I ruin it?
No.
No.
We were separated before Chloe even met you.
And your career?
Palmetto... was all me.
Yeah. Yeah.
W-What are we doing back here?
Hmm? Oh, just a nice,
intimate chat between friends.
I'm glad you got it off your chest.
Oh, man, you're bleeding.
What? Oh.
No, it's just a scratch, really.
Nothing to worry about. And you?
How are you doing?
I feel great, actually.
Good.
Good talk.
Ah! Good morning, Detective.
Everything all right?
No. Heads are gonna roll.
First, some tech pulled the murder weapon
without documentation, and now it's just gone.
Right. Well, it's probably for the best.
Nasty bit of steel, anyway.
So, one second you're obsessed
with the knife, and now it's just no big deal?
Well, we got the murderer, didn't we? Job done.
You know, Lucifer...
I thought you and I had a real moment the other day,
talking about my dad, I...
I thought we were partners,
but more importantly, friends.
Right.
Is this about me and Ella in the penthouse?
Look, who you sleep with is none of my business,
but...
I mean, the lab tech? Really?
It's a little inappropriate. Well,
much as I love to cross professional boundaries,
Detective, I can assure you, everything you saw
was entirely work-related.
Mm-hmm? Is that... is that the truth?
Always the truth.
Point of pride for me, Detective.
Gotcha. But you know,
if you ever did want to cross boundaries
into "partnered friends who hang out naked..." Okay.
Stop talking.
So, global crisis averted?
Yes. For now.
So, we can...
you know, talk about Caligula, Stalin,
Trump. I mean,
I know he's not dead, but he's definitely going. Lucifer,
I owe you an apology.
But in my defense...
...you're the Devil.
Things were much less complicated when I thought
you were just another average delusional patient
with a complicated family.
Well, I've never been "average," Linda.
Mentally, physically-- and as you know--
sexually.
Oh, my God.
I had sex with the Devil.
Many, many times. And you're welcome.
Okay, now, see, that I understand.
Narcissistic tendencies rooted
in a complex paternal relationship
and a disrupted adolescence.
See? Just another screwed up patient.
And you can treat me as such.
All right.
Let's do this.
The doctor is in.
Lovely.
I really do have urgent business
to attend to. Are you certain
that this is the favor that you desire?
Because, uh, believe me, when I say the last two times
I've darkened the doorstep of a church,
insert blood-soaked carnage here. Again,
with the drama!
We solved your case, now I get my favor.
Just go with me, okay?
Look, since the moment we've met,
okay, I've had this Spidey-sense that you were...
I don't know, searching for something.
Right. Spiritual lost and found. Yes!
And I have found a lot since I developed a relationship
with the Big Guy, and... so might you.
Trust me. We're much closer than you think.
Well, then, no harm, no foul.
I beg to differ.
Oh.
On second thought...
What?
I should at least give someone a reason to go to confession.
So, where will you put it, brother?
Somewhere far away from our mum,
for starters.
Mm!
And speak of the Devil's mum.
Well, that was fast.
You couldn't have waited a day or two to find it?
There hasn't been nearly enough carnage.
Now we'll never hear from your father.
All the killing in the world
may not have gotten his attention, Mum.
Surely you've learned that by now.
Uriel was our son.
Your brother.
We should grieve together.
I don't think that's all this is about.
You want something from Him.
What is it?
What I've always wanted.
I want my family back.
I'm afraid that's not possible.
Oh, but it is.
With my two sons by my side, a united front,
your father will be forced to listen to reason.
Force Dad?
I think human delusion is rubbing off on you, Mother.
Tell her.
Luci, I can't, because I agree with her.
I thought you were just Team Mum
because you couldn't fly her back to Hell.
Since when did you turn? Now,
more than ever, I know that humanity and divinity
do not mix.
That... that blade, Luci.
That blade was the last straw. It shouldn't be here.
We shouldn't be here.
Well,
I am not going back to Hell. Oh, this isn't about
returning to Hell.
This is about Heaven.
It's about going home.
Home.
For you, maybe.
Neither of you understand, do you?
You never have.
Hell wasn't home, and Heaven was...
well... hell!
The only place I've ever felt
wanted or respected...
Is here? With humanity?
Yes. This is my home.
Deal with it, Mother.
Fine.
Fine.
No sense arguing.
Time to go.
Careful.
It's sharp.
What's that saying?
"When my dear husband closes a door,
he opens a window"?
The window just opened.