NCIS (2003–…): Season 8, Episode 6 - Cracked - full transcript

Hey.
Whoa.

Watch where you're going!

Watch it.

Can't let them stop me.

Gotta keep moving.
I can't let them find me.

I can't.

God, come on.

No, wait!

No. Tell me.

Sweetheart,
I don't get embarrassed.

You little vixen.

Well, if you warm that up first.

Listen, I gotta go.
Pick you up tonight, say, 8?

Great.

Ciao.

Who's the lucky little vixen, Tony?

Adult relationship stuff, McTween.
You wouldn't understand.

Adult relationship? You?

He must be dating
one of those late-night chat girls again.

She was a student
putting herself through medical school.

I have now lost my appetite.

- Ethel's different. She's special.
- Special Ethel.

Good, Tony. You're finally dating
within your age range.

Happens to be a family name
and I happen to like it.

It's strong. Distinguished.

- It says...
- I've fallen and I can't get up.

Laugh all you want.

I think Ethel and I
really have something.

Well, there are antibiotics for that,
Tony.

She's even started...

I can share this.

She's even started talking
about role-playing.

- You're taking a drama class?
- That not the kind he's talking about.

Just don't you show up tomorrow
wearing a diaper

and carrying a whip, okay?

Oh, that kind of role-playing.

So, what is she into?

She's keeping it a secret
until Halloween.

Says it's gonna bring our relationship
to a whole new level.

Well, what if she wants you
to dress up like a ballerina?

Trust me. This woman could get Gibbs
into a tutu and leotard if she wanted to.

Not likely in this lifetime, DiNozzo.

No, boss. I'm sure
you would never wear a leotard.

But if you did, you could pull it off.

I'm gonna grab my gear.

Good idea.
Got a dead Navy lieutenant. Let's go.

Heck of a way to catch a bus.

So, boss,
police think it was an accident.

Bus driver claims that the victim
tried to run the light and missed.

- Got an ID?
- Yeah. Navy Lieutenant Clea Thorson.

Twenty-nine years old.
Chemical engineer.

Two tours overseas
before joining the Reserves in 2006.

I have a witness that says the victim
was acting paranoid

prior to the collision.

Another says she was mumbling about
trying to get away from someone.

Mental problems?

Maybe she really was running away
from someone.

Good morning, all.

To whom do we have the privilege?

Navy Lieutenant Clea Thorson.

Pedestrian versus bus.
How unfortunate.

Walk on the green, not in between.

I am so sorry. I used to say that
to myself when I was a kid

whenever I wandered into the...

- Never mind. Never mind.
Severe trauma to the head.

Consistent with the collision.

The impact threw the victim
12 to 15 feet,

making the speed of the bus
at the point of collision?

- Uh...
- Fifteen to 20 miles an hour.

Are those scratches on her hands,
Mr. Palmer?

Naturally, she would have extended
her arms to protect herself.

Oh.

This is weird.

Palmer, check the other arm.

Some kind of chemical symbols?

Looks like my cheat sheet
from an eighth grade math final.

Whatever this is, Mr. Palmer,

I am certain that you did not learn it
in eighth grade.

It seems Lieutenant Thorson
was something of an overachiever.

- Background?
- Graduated first in her class from MIT.

While she was in the service,
she led a civil engineering project

to rebuild water systems in Iraq.
She was 21.

Recruited by every biotech firm
in the country.

She chose Martin Stillwell's
Gen-1 Biotech Inc. in D.C.

She was working on a research project
there until two weeks ago.

Fired. Not sure why.

A spotless military record.

- Family?
- Never married. No children.

No boyfriend to speak of.

Only relative is her mother
in Boston.

She's in the air as we speak.

Well, boss, no current home address
in the database.

The most recent
is from about six months ago.

No cell or credit card trails either.

But I did find a bank account
registered to her in Maryland.

She made several recent deposits,

all over $20,000
and all within the last two weeks.

After Stillwell fired her.

Could have been working
for someone on the sly.

Find out who was paying her.

I really appreciate
you guys letting me do this.

Don't get me wrong.
Tony's pictures are great.

I just... I need specifics.

That is oddly Diane Arbus to me.

Wow, I love her.
I'll take that as a compliment.

How great is Child with Toy Grenade
in Central Park?

- I worship Triplets in Their Bedroom.
- Totally.

I worship getting my work done.
Abby? Fweet.

Holy mother of Einstein.

There's a pattern here.

I would love to know what it is.

Oh, Jethro. Thank goodness.

I've never seen anything like this
before.

I'm not sure exactly what it is.

Did she write it
or did someone else do it?

I don't know that yet either.

It's just...
It's an indecipherable puzzle.

That's what makes it so cool.

My point is that it's gonna take me
a while to process all this.

Right. Off I go. Bye.

Bye, Abs.

I'm afraid we're not finished yet,
Jethro.

But what I've discovered so far
really bothers me.

Broken capillaries in both eyes,
her skin is extremely dehydrated.

Well, both of these are unrelated

to the blunt force trauma she incurred
at the accident.

This was a very sick woman, Jethro.

Mr. Palmer, would you?

Her spleen expanded
to nearly twice its size.

The liver and pancreas
were also enlarged.

She had almost complete
organ failure.

- From what?
- Some kind of poison.

I have no idea what kind.

Abby will start tests.

But whatever it was,
it's been in her system for some time.

She was dying.

I have no idea
how the poison got into her system.

It didn't get there by itself.

Whoever did this to her
knew just what to do not to get caught.

Come on, DiNozzo.
Give me something.

No luck on the money trail.

- McGee.
- Found several IMs

in Thorson's e-mail cache.
One is video.

You ungrateful bitch.

You're not going anywhere.

And if you do leave me,
I will make your life hell.

- Wow, Mel Gibson much?
- Huh.

There was no evidence
that Thorson had a boyfriend.

- McGee.
- Yep, finding the IP address.

Okay, uh, this is not her boyfriend.

It's her boss.

You're out of your mind if you think I
had something to do with Clea's death.

No, actually. You are.

We got the video message
to prove it.

Easy, tiger.

Guy could go a little nuts
after getting dumped, huh?

Clea and I had
a professional relationship. That's it.

I gave her her break in this business.
I nurtured her.

- So you don't deny you were close?
- About the work? Yes.

Clea was the most brilliant engineer
I'd ever known or ever worked with.

But what comes along
with all that brilliance

are certain challenges.

What kind of challenges?

Clea never wanted
to be a team player.

She had to do everything on her own.
And that's not how I run things here.

She'd become impossible
to deal with,

especially during her research project
at Norfolk.

Can you explain
this research project?

My company was hired by the Navy
to help them become fuel-independent.

To go green, if you will.

Well, no more dependence
on foreign oil. I like the sound of that.

Well, essentially the goal
was to make sure every naval base

was completely off the grid by 2020.

Well, that sounds
like a large undertaking.

It's massive, actually.

Hi. And you are?

April Ferris.
I'm an engineer here at Gen-1.

Engineer.

So you worked
with Clea Thorson then?

I did. For five years.
She was a friend.

- It's awful what happened.
- It is.

Can you tell us about her last days
here before she was fired?

I'm sorry. I can't right now.

I've got a meeting
that I need to get to.

And, of course, any other questions
can be answered by my attorney.

We're not done yet.

I believe we are.

Who did this?

Who killed my daughter?

Was she in any trouble?

Everything was fine.

Clea was just fine
until she lost her job.

Any idea why?

No.

But she kept sending money,

telling me to keep it
in case anything happened.

She was scared.

At first, I thought it was the meds,

but this was different.

Meds?

It started when she was about 4.

Mood swings,

manic behavior, insomnia.

She struggled till her early teens.

Then we found the right doctor,

the right medications

and everything was under control.

Until recently.

That had to be hard.

Something had my daughter
shaken up, Agent Gibbs.

And I don't think it was her illness.

Do you have children?

Did.

Please tell me the pain goes away.

I've been going over
the photos I took in autopsy.

See how the writing on the left arm
is similar to that on the right

but it's angled funny?

It's two different people.

No, not people. Hands.

Her own hands.

Ambidextrous.

If the killer did this,

then the handwriting would be
exactly the same on both arms.

She wrote it all herself.

How's that for dedication?

I'm officially a fan.

And there's more.

It's a formula.

Or it's pieces of
a longer, elaborate chemical formula.

I just don't know what it is yet.

I mean, I'm stumped.
You wanna know why?

Because it's a code inside a code.

And it was written
so only she could understand it.

This is pure brilliance
with a capital B.

Or with a capital P.B.

It's just one part
of a bigger equation.

She did this for a reason.
She wanted to protect it.

Look.

See these little numbers
written in the crease of her elbow?

- Coordinates.
- Yeah.

Ding, ding, ding.

- 1649 Delaney Street Southeast.
- Thanks.

Someone was security conscious.

Or paranoid.

Maybe paranoid for a reason, huh?

We should get Abby out here.

You should see this, Tony.

Left us a message.

I am a little concerned.

- I have never seen Abby so...
- Quiet.

She's fine. She's just thinking.

I admit it's a lot to absorb.

It could take us weeks to process.

Well, I've already counted
three security cameras inside.

Should be able to get
whoever was in here on playback.

If somebody was in here.

I sense skepticism, Tony.

Well, you sensed right, Dr. Phil.

- You think it's the same formula?
- McGee. Hi.

Yes. I mean, no, no.

It's not the same. Well, part of it is.

This is actually an extension
of what's on her body.

This is the second piece
of the formula.

Just, I've never seen someone
this focused before.

Oh, I have.

In a good way, I mean.

I'm talking about you, Abs.

Go. I have to check the hard drive.

Okay.

Ziva, anything here?

Well, Lieutenant Thorson was definitely
having problems with Stillwell. Look.

She writes
that he was watching her every move.

- What about the Norfolk project?
- Nothing.

Maybe Stillwell had her too scared
to write about it.

Maybe Alice took a few too many pills
in Wonderland.

Hey, bite your tongue.

Respect, please.

Sorry, Abs. I just think we need
to consider the possibility

that Lieutenant Thorson's paranoia
was imagined.

- Her hard drive's been erased.
- Is that a euphemism?

They used a remote device
to erase the hard drive.

I don't think that is imagined.

Someone was stealing her work.

Well, boss,
say hello to the Green Hornet.

The first F/A-18 jet
fueled by 50 percent biofuel.

Tested off the charts last spring.

Stillwell's company involved?

Yeah, his and about 20 others.

The Navy's investing billions.
Check it out.

Thermonuclear power, wind energy,

geo-thermal power, hybrid ships,
you name it.

The companies are in a race
to patent new technologies.

Whoever gets the patents first
makes a fortune.

Oh, yeah.
Daddy Warbucks kind of fortune.

Thorson's project could've been worth
enough to get her killed.

- Hm. Money trail.
- All deposits were strictly cash.

Whoever was paying her
did not wanna be found.

- Prints in the loft.
- Just hers.

Nothing off the camera footage, either.
Only person I've seen so far is her.

Time codes begin
the day she was fired,

and end the day she died.

She locked herself away
for two weeks.

She was dedicated to her cause.

Okay.

Obsessive.

Now, Gibbs, I found references
to a Mr. K in her journals

as well as entries of meetings
in a calendar.

- Any dates?
- Yeah. Several in the past two weeks.

Find him.

Check employees
at Stillwell's company,

Navy colleagues.
Anyone linked to this Norfolk project.

I can see a kindred spirit in you.

I mean, not that I can see your spirit
because that would be weird.

But I guess not too weird
because you're in here

and you're, you know...

You're...

Um, anyway,
so what I'm trying to say is

we communicate in the same way.

I could tell
the first time I saw all of this.

Everyone else saw chaos
and I saw patterns right away.

There was order to the chaos.

So...

I just... I want you to know

that whatever it is

that you're trying to tell me,

I promise you,

I promise I'll understand.

Careful.

Sometimes they talk back.

Ducky. Hi.

I just... I wanted to get one last look
at the writings.

It's a rather fascinating case

with a rather fascinating
young woman.

Oh, we could study her brain
for years

and never know
just what made her tick.

But I suppose that could be said
for any one of us.

Are you all right?
You look a little peaked.

Oh, yeah. I'm fine.

Go home, Abby. Get some rest.

I can assure you of one thing.

Lieutenant Thorson will still be here
in the morning.

McGee. You're here.
I've had some breakthroughs.

Or maybe it's more like
some little bursts of inspiration.

If I had a breakthrough I'd have all
the answers. But I don't. Not yet.

But I'm close.
I know I am because I can feel it.

I have this tingling feeling
going up and down my spine.

- How many Caf-Pows! have you had?
- Eleven-teen.

Did you even go home last night?

I've been inputting the raw data
from the writings,

trying to crack the code to the formula.
And then, bam, it hit me.

That it's not about the code.
It's about her.

What I need to crack is her.

The DTA bus line.
She rode it every week.

All in here.

And she wrote
about a college mentor.

I don't know where he is,
but I think he was her confidant.

And maybe he could tell us
about Mr. K.

And you think we should find him?

Lieutenant Thorson, she had
a whole life out there somewhere.

She was on a journey.
And it's my duty to follow it.

That's how we're gonna find out
who killed her.

I can't do it alone, McGee.

I need you to come with me.

Three o'clock in the afternoon,
she has a sandwich and a soda.

Exactly 20 minutes later,
she goes back to her desk.

Six o'clock in the evening,
she takes a shower.

The same every day, like clockwork.

I know that sound.

What sound? I didn't make a sound.

It is the sound of things not boding well
for poor Ethel.

I don't wanna talk about it.

What's wrong?
Having second thoughts

about the role you're gonna play?

She wants me to dress up like...

No. I can't.

It's sacrilege.

I'm gonna have to end it.

Oh, come on, Tony.
It's only been two days.

It's too short. Even for you.

Trust me, Ziva.
Some things a man should never do.

We're not talking about a man here.
We're talking about you.

Would you let her know?

I need some time to process.

If you are going to end it, do it now.
It is not fair to just...

Tony, what is this?

Miss Ferris. She called.
I told her to come in.

- Hi. Does Stillwell know you're here?
- No.

Keeps everyone around him
on a pretty tight leash, huh?

In some ways, yes.

What about Lieutenant Thorson?

Their relationship
was very complicated

and that's all I'll say.

What about your relationship
with her?

We were the only women engineers
at Gen-1.

She was a lot braver than I was.

How so?

She wasn't afraid to stand up
to Martin or anyone else.

I only wish I had known her better

and how her mind worked. I...

These are some of the things
from her locker.

Maybe you'll be able to find
some of the answers I never could.

All right. We'll be in touch.

- Who was that?
- Lieutenant Thorson's colleague.

Did you get anything?
Yes.

I think we did.

A final meeting with Mr. K.

This one scheduled
for later this afternoon.

You got a location?

Wiley's Caf? across town.

The 35 should take us
to 16th Street.

We take the Red Line
to Dupont Circle.

Okay, Abby. We have been on five
buses in the last two hours, okay?

This isn't working.

I need to find what I'm looking for,
McGee.

Yeah, but you don't even know
what you're looking for.

I mean, at least be pragmatic.
Listen to yourself.

Clea took this path all the time.

I have to find out why.

I thought you wanted to help me.

Abby, I do wanna help you. I do...

Bringing up the cell grid.

No hits where I last saw Abby.
Must've turned her cell phone off.

She didn't just disappear
into thin air, Tim.

I know, boss.

We'll find her.

- How did you know where to find me?
- I followed Lieutenant Thorson's path.

It only took me eight different buses
and ten miles on foot to do it.

Well, knowing Clea,
she had a reason.

She was scared, Professor Redner.

Someone was following her.

- Same person that hurt her?
- Yeah.

I was worried
something had happened

when she didn't show the other day.

So...

She was on her way to see you
when she died.

I can't believe that she's gone.

Well...

...I don't think she is.

I mean, not totally.

Look at this.

Okay.

She left all of this behind.

Do you have any idea
what this means?

Well, there's a focus
on hydrogen and carbon dioxide.

But the rest I don't recognize.

She kept her own projects secret.
Even from me.

She had to share something with you.
She trusted you.

She wrote about a Mr. K.

Oh, she mentioned him
a few times, yes.

Ever by his full name?

No.

Sorry.

You know, Clea gave me something
a few years ago.

We would read from it
during her visits.

It seemed to calm her.

Maybe it can do the same thing
for you.

Oh, I couldn't take that.
That was a gift.

Science is poetry, Miss Sciuto.

- It's about making order...
- From chaos.

Yeah. That's what I do every day.

Then this book is in good hands.

We are not sure what to believe
at this point.

Meeting with Mr. K
wasn't what we'd hoped for.

- He never showed?
- You could say that.

The restaurant manager confirmed

Lieutenant Thorson was there
many times these past two weeks.

Dates correspond to meetings found
in her calendar. Look.

We got video footage.

Let's see it.

First I thought
maybe she was on her phone,

but manager says that she stays
like this for about an hour every time.

He kicked her out
after a customer complained

that she was getting too loud.

Turn it off.

Boss,
Abby turned her cell phone back on.

I'm gonna try and nail down
her exact location.

- Last time we let you two out.
- DiNozzo.

- Was that Thorson meeting with?
- The notorious Mr. K.

Yes, it is. In the flesh, so to speak.

- Who's gonna tell Abby?
- I nominate you.

I'll handle it.

Well, someone will have to
and quickly.

Abby, are you all right?

Gibbs, whirlwind of a day.

Wouldn't believe where I've been.
Wanna guess? Go for it.

- Abby.
- Okay, I'll tell you.

So I found Lieutenant Thorson's
college mentor,

Professor Daniel Redner.

We talked about poetry. He made tea.
I loved the poetry, hated the tea.

- Stop.
- Anyways. He knows all about Mr. K.

And he said that Thorson was very
secretive about him which means

that she felt threatened by him.

- So we have to find Mr. K, Gibbs.
- Stop!

You just raised your voice to me.
You never raise your voice to me.

It's her delusion, Abs.

I was wrong.

About you.

You don't understand.
None of you understand.

There's no reasoning with her.

I'm afraid not, Jethro.

Not when she locks herself
in her lab,

convinced that she can find
all the answers on her own.

Right. Just like Thorson did.

Well, there's no doubt that Abby
greatly identifies with the lieutenant.

Has done from the beginning.

A slippery slope, Duck.

Yeah, well, as Nietzsche says:

"When you gaze long into the abyss,
the abyss will gaze into you."

I need to get her back.

You will.

We're still awaiting results
from the outside lab

as to the type of poison.

However, this morning,
I pulled a piece of tissue

from beneath one
of Thorson's fingernails.

There a fight?

It could have been a nasty one.

The tissue was deeply imbedded.

You got an ID?

Just got that back.

Boss, it's Stillwell.

Get out of the car, Stillwell.

Get out!

He's on the move.

Help me.

Gibbs, Ducky's initial autopsy findings
point to poison.

Same way Thorson was killed.

Same killer.

You know what? Maybe Thorson
wasn't completely insane.

Boss, we know that Thorson
and Stillwell were both working

to redesign energy systems
for the Navy. Billions are at stake.

Maybe Thorson's formula
really is the key to all this.

Well, then if that is true,

Abby's the only one
who can make this breakthrough.

Somebody's gotta break
through her first.

I think I might know someone.

No matter where I was, I could
always tell when Clea was in trouble.

My stomach got twisted up.

I didn't sleep, didn't eat.

I knew something was wrong,
but I never expected this.

She had a mission.

Nothing was gonna stop her.

From what I hear,
you feel the same way.

Well, I promised your daughter
that I would finish what she started.

At what cost, Miss Sciuto?

Clea was a scientist above all else.

Her work fed her,

gave her the happiness
I never could.

But it also drove her to the brink.

I'm not on the brink.
I'm just looking for answers.

Where? In my daughter's head?

I'd do anything
to tell you how Clea's mind worked.

But after 29 years, and all the love
a mother could possibly give,

not even I can tell you that.

You connected to my daughter
because of science.

Yes.

And you want to help her?

That's all I wanna do.

Then do what she would've done
and put emotion aside.

Please, you have to let her go.

- Progress, Gibbs. Observe progress.
- Music to my ears, Abs.

Okay, after whittling away
at the mass of symbols and letters,

I kept coming back
to two distinct chemical compositions.

The first was taken
from the writings on the body.

It happens to be a unique construction
of the bacteria E. coli.

Right. Sorry.

Inside voice. It just feels really good
to have my mojo back.

Okay,
now behold the second composition.

It was found on the writings
inside Thorson's loft.

And it is... Drum roll, please.

- A synthesis of compounds
with the aid of radiant energy,

a.k.a. photosynthesis.

Wait. So this is all about plants
and bad meat?

Yeah. It's confusing, huh?

Okay, next equation. Stat.
I mean, please.

At first, I thought this was about

converting the organisms
like E. coli into fuel.

But there's too much carbon dioxide
for that process to ever work.

In other words,
my mojo has sort of hit a no-jo.

Still don't have the last piece
of the formula.

I feel like I'm missing something,
but I've been over this a million times.

This is our anomaly, boss.

We still can't figure out
where it fits in the formula.

It looks like a plant.

It's not a plant, Gibbs.

It's a leaf.

Memory card.

Whoa, guys,
Clea Thorson was a genius.

Carbon dioxide wasn't the problem,
it was the solution.

She discovered a way
to make fuel from bacteria.

This is revolutionary
for green energy.

I mean, she has figured out
how to power the planet

out of stuff that we try to get rid of.

Avaxis employee list.

Systems Director Rupert Kritzer.

Ha! I told you there was a Mr. K.

Yes, she was working for me.

You paid her under the table. Why?

It's a cutthroat business.

It's the way it has to be done.

Keep it hidden from Stillwell?

I know you were working
on the Navy energy plan.

And I know that he was one
of your main competitors.

It's complicated.

Oh, yeah. Two people are dead.
You're the chief suspect.

Doesn't get much more complicated
than that.

Look,

the biotech business is this
generation's dot-com boom, okay?

Everyone is trying
to discover the next big thing

and everyone is looking
for the next big talent.

Talent like Lieutenant Thorson?

Right. So when Stillwell fired her,
I pounced, okay?

I told her to keep it to herself.

He'd stolen ideas from me before.
I wasn't gonna let him do that again.

I didn't want our project
ever getting back to him.

And when it did, you killed them.

Had to keep it for yourself.

I didn't kill anyone.

I don't believe you.

Clea's bacteria conversion formula

has just netted me $2 billion,
Agent Gibbs,

and I was just about to hire her
for a second project.

Why would I want her dead?

Martin Stillwell's throat was burned

from swallowing a significant amount
of something.

So much, in fact,
that you can still smell it.

Gasoline.

- Dead bodies.
- Close.

It's a highly refined version of ethanol,
mixed with traces of formaldehyde.

Where would somebody
get that?

They can't. Mr. Palmer?

With Abby's help, I found
a patent filing from three years ago

for a grain-based fuel
called nanathol.

But the patent was never given

because the fuel left behind
a deadly by-product of...

Formaldehyde. Who filed it?

Stillwell's company.

Well, Palmer,
find out who spearheaded the project.

- Go, now. Go.
- On it.

Additionally, Jethro,

Lieutenant Thorson was not poisoned
the same way as Martin Stillwell.

Hers was more methodical.

Meaning?

Meaning she absorbed the poison
through her skin

over a period of two weeks.

Possibly mixed in a lotion
or some kind of liquid.

And done by someone
who knew her rituals.

Precisely.

Every day at 6 in the evening,
Lieutenant Thorson took a shower.

It did not change for two weeks.

But here is what did change.

This is the day before she died.

She gets sicker by the minute.

- Hey, Tony.
- I think McGee found something.

Buried amid some pipes

underneath the stairs
outside Thorson's loft.

It goes right into the water supply.

She never had a chance, boss.

Look who's taking center stage.

Miss Ferris, we need to talk to you.

I'm in the middle of a meeting.
Can't it wait?

Gentlemen.

Excuse us.

I don't understand.

I've told you all I know.
I've helped you.

No, you only helped yourself,
ma'am.

To a brand-new job, looks like.

Must feel good
to finally be the one in charge.

It doesn't suit you, though.
You're more of a background player.

I've worked hard for what I have.

No, the work only got you so far.

Lieutenant Thorson,
she was the real deal.

You're a phony.

We were never competitors.

- Clea was my friend.
- At least that's what she thought.

This is a direct quote
from her journal.

"I feel alone at Gen-1 most of the time.
I do not like it here.

But April makes the days easier.

Maybe we will be friends.

I trust her."

She never said...

She didn't care about me.

It's a terrible thing.
Betraying someone's trust like that.

You have no idea
what I had to put up with.

People fawned over her
like she was the Second Coming.

How do you think
that made me feel?

Make you feel bad enough to kill.

It's Tony as Tony.
I am completely impressed.

Are you supposed to be fat Elvis?

It's Saturday Night Fever.

Travolta, '77,
in a John Badham directed classic.

I know.

It looks ridiculous, right?

Oh, it feels even worse.

It's like I'm betraying the gods.

I was not aware
you were so religious.

The film gods.

So I take it this means
you haven't ended things with Ethel?

Ethel.

A man's
gotta do what a man's gotta do.

I'm gonna give special Ethel
what she thinks she wants.

But this?

This will always belong to me.

Whoo.

It looks good.

I like it.

I'm just trying to get into the spirit.
It's more me.

Look, Gibbs, I'm sorry.
I'm sorry that I... I'm...

Sorry.

Abs, it's okay.