The Blacklist (2013–…): Season 5, Episode 6 - The Travel Agency (No. 90) - full transcript

...101.2 Seven Valleys Radio.

And pushing Janet Jackson
off her four-week reign
at the top of the charts,

here's Roxette
with their new single...

The Berlin Wall,
the Brandenburg Gate,

I'm Tom Brokaw.

The Brandenburg Gate,
of course,
is in East Berlin,

and the sound that you hear

and what you're
seeing tonight...

Not hammers and sickles,
but hammers and chisels,

as young people
take down this wall
bit by bit.

Earlier this evening,



the Communist
Central Committee
in East Berlin...

End of an era, huh?

"Era." We need a five-letter
word that ends in "H."

Tonight, citizens
from both Germanys...

Uh... "Epoch."
...are singing and dancing
on the wall itself.

Reunited right on top...

Hey, girls still asleep?

Karen picked them already.

On the east side
of the Berlin Wall,

something new tonight.

Soldiers dismantling it,
not guarding it with rifles.

I, uh...
I got to get to work.

Sweetheart,
it's still early.

Early is on time,



on time is late,

and late is unacceptable.

No. Please.
Who sent you?

We can talk.

We... We can talk!

Ooh, can I play?

Uh! You're in my line
of sight.

Oh, there's a hole
under the lighthouse.

I'm playing the carom.

Ah.

That's it.

Dembe and I have scheduled
a tournament.

It's been in the works
for some time,

but we couldn't quite
settle on a format.

I finally
unearthed the Peoria System
with a double par limit,

and here we are.

The tournament is this week

and I have every intention
of winning.

Oh!

And here I thought
all old, rich white men
were good at golf.

Maybe it's my putter.

Mitchell Dunning
of Dupont Circle

is about to be assassinated.

I'm sorry, Mitchell who?

Dunning.

He found me through
an associate of mine
and is looking to disappear.

My problem is that
I don't have the resources
to help him at present.

Yours is that
Mr. Dunning believes

the hit was contracted
through the Travel Agency.

A travel agency?

Not a travel agency,
Elizabeth,

The Travel Agency.

A murder-for-hire ring
that lived in the shadows
for nearly 30 years.

Their assassins carried out
a variety of contract hits

until they mysteriously closed
their doors 12 years ago,

dashing any hope
that law enforcement
might one day

solve the rash of killings
the Agency left in their wake.

So,
if this guy Dunning is right,
and they're after him...

Innocents and not-so-innocents
have targets on their backs,

beginning with
Mitchell Dunning.

The Travel Agency
was a consortium
of anonymous killers

responsible for a variety
of unsolved murders.

The assassination
of a civil rights activist
in 1983,

the poisoning of
an anti-Glasnost
Soviet businessman in '87.

What do we know about
the man Reddington says
is the next target?

Mitchell David Dunning.

Lives in Dupont Circle
and imports
high-end furniture.

Offices in Paris, London,
and New York.

Keen, Navabi,

find him and pull him
into protective custody.

I wanna know
who wants him dead

and why he thinks
the Travel Agency

was contracted
to do the job.

Agent Ressler.

A word.

There's a personal matter
that I need to attend to.

Is everything all right?

Honestly, I'm not sure,

but I need you to
oversee things here
until it's taken care of.

I'm sorry. Unavoidable.
Of course.

MAN: Yeah?
I'm looking for Isaiah.

Who?

Isaiah Hill.

Never heard of him.

You're gonna open
this damn door or we're
gonna have a problem.

Hello.

Hey! I'm gonna
call the cops.

Special Agent
Harold Cooper. FBI.

I'm not here on
official business. Yet.

Oh... Okay, look.

I met him
a couple of days ago.

I said I needed
a place to crash.
He tossed me his keys.

I haven't seen him since.
Where'd he go?

We still unofficial?

Only if you give me
a straight answer.

Isaiah Hill.
Where is he?

You packed the laptop, right?

I told you, yes.
Along with the phone
and the chargers.

What did your sister say?

Cabin's empty.
Garage code is
the address backwards.

Here. You finish the bags.
I'm gonna set the alarm.

Mitchell Dunning? FBI.
Agents Navabi and Keen.

FBI? I don't...

What's going on?

We believe there may be
a threat to your life.

We need you to come with us.
What threat? There can't...

You must have me
confused with someone else.

Are you going somewhere?

Upstate. For the weekend.

It's Wednesday.

Look, Officers,
I appreciate your concern,

but clearly you've
got the wrong guy.

There's no threat.
I'm a salesman. I import...

I'm sorry to be asking you
these questions now,

but if we're gonna find
whoever did this,

we need to know
everything you know.

Everything was fine
and then suddenly,

he was rushing us
out of the house

and then you show up and...

I can't believe this.

SAMAR: Liz,
you have to see this.

I found it in the car.

Do you know this man,
Mrs. Dunning?

No.
Why? Who is he?

Are you following me now?

Mr. Kaplan
gave you a suitcase.

In it was a skeleton

she never
should have unearthed

and whose identity
must remain secret.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

I understand the temptation.

Acting on a fine woman's
dying wish.

But your quest has cost
Nik Korpal his life,

and persisting will put
whomever you involve
in harm's way.

I prefer no one gets hurt.

Secrets put
people in harm's way.

Keeping them in the dark.
A talent you and I share.

Or shared.
I'm out of that business.

And if I have a quest,
it's to shine a light

on the darkness you create.

To help Liz find her way out
of the enormous
shadow you cast.

You asked Nik
to identify the bones

and he was killed
for his trouble

by someone who
knows their identity and,
therefore, their value.

That killer is likely
searching for a way
to contact me since,

knowing their value,

he knows they are
most valuable to me.

I will allow myself
to be found,

recover the suitcase,

eliminate the man
for his troubles,

and rebury the body

in a place where
it will be lost

to the sands of time
as originally intended.

Whatever secret
you're hiding from Liz,

it'll come out.

Family secrets always do.

What's in the envelope?

What envelope?

CRESPIN: You will stop
looking for Pete McGee.

You are to act
as if Pete McGee

never existed.

Say it.

Is he doing this?
Did he send you?

Say it, Lena.

Pete McGee doesn't exist.

Keep it that way.

Or I'll be back.

I don't understand.

You think this man
who was killed

was looking into
my father's murder?

Did they know each other?

We were hoping
that you might be
able to answer that.

Mitchell Dunning.

I don't think
I've ever seen him.

Were you and
your father close?

We were.

After Mom passed,
I used to come
out here every week,

help out around
the house.

Did he ever come
to visit you?

In the city? God, no.

I don't think Dad
ever left the state
after he closed the Agency.

I'm sorry, the Agency?

The Seawall Travel Agency.

Dad owned it for years.

Landry, do you know
if your father

happened to keep
any of his old
work records?

Knobbs traveled the world
with his family.

And orchestrated hits.

Check this out.

The civil rights activist,

the Soviet businessman.

Knobbs and his wife
on vacation.

Look at the man
in the background.

It's Mitchell Dunning.

Our two victims
with nothing in common
owned a murder business.

That means the people
in the Travel Agency
aren't killing people,

they're being killed.

The name and address
of the miscreant
you're looking for.

How reliable
are your sources?

I understand
you've placed Donald
in charge of the task force.

I'm looking for the son
of a good friend.

A young man whose father
was killed last year

and who drowned his
understandable sorrow
in drugs and alcohol.

Mother took him
to counselors.

With Char and I,
she organized an intervention.

And we'll do it all again.

As often it takes.

But we can't do any of it

until we know where he is.

And my only lead
is this dealer. Castro.

I don't wanna go
busting into a place
on unofficial business

unless I know
it's the right one.

So, are your sources reliable?

Yes.

You're going to need backup.

To check some punk?

Sounds like a delightful way
to spend an afternoon.

We could play
Celebrity on the way.

I appreciate the name
and the offer.

I must warn you,
I know all the absurdists.

I kill with Camus.

Camus is not a celebrity.

He is to me.

Thank you for this.

But I'll take it
from here.

And way down we go-o-o-o-o

Way down we go-o-o-o-o

Say way down we go

Way down

FBI. I'm looking for...

Oh, you let
your feet run wild

Time has come
as we all, oh

Castro. Where is he?

Go down

Yeah, but for the fall
Oh, my

'Cause they will
run you down

Down till the dark

Yes, and they will
run you down

Down till you fall

And they will run you down

Down till you go

Yeah, so you can't
crawl no more

And way down we go-o-o-o-o

Way down we go

Say way down we go-o-o-o-o

I told you
I didn't need help.

We couldn't resist.

...101.2 Seven Valleys Radio.

And...

Earlier this evening,

the Communist
Central Committee
in East Berlin...

End of an era, huh?

"Era." We need a five-letter
word that ends in "H."

Uh... "Epoch."
...are singing and dancing
on the wall itself.

Are the girls asleep?

Karen
picked them up already.

Soldiers dismantling it,
not guarding it with rifles.

I, uh...
I got to get to work.

Sweetheart,
it's still early.

Early is on time,

on time is late,

and late is unacceptable.

ARAM:
The Seawall Travel Agency,

based out of Allentown,
Pennsylvania,

was a storefront
used by Knobbs and Dunning

to facilitate their
murder-for-hire business.

So, Knobbs and Dunning
were the two principals.

Yeah, who hid their
association behind a ton
of financial loopholes.

But the dossiers we found
account for dozens
of unsolved murders.

They must have had help.

Yep. And according
to some of the other
documents you seized,

they had a large support staff
who were doing
far more than booking

eight-day cruises
to Acapulco.

What do you mean "had"?

ARAM: So, evidently Seawall's
shell companies were
also secretly paying

account executives,

private investigators,
weapons procurement
techs,

and a variety of
what I can only assume
were handlers.

All of whom are dead.

Every employee of a
murder-for-hire company,
murdered.

Except for one.

Mr. Argon Wright,
a shipping agent
out of Baltimore.

All right, well,
let's bring him in while
he's still breathing.

Navabi, let's go.

Fentanyl is like snake venom.

Hundred times more powerful
than morphine.

A lethal dose of heroin
is about 30 milligrams.

Three milligrams of fentanyl

is enough to kill
an average-size male.

In every conceivable way,
I'd say you are
well below average.

I don't even know
who you are, old man.

But you're a cop, man.
You're gonna stand there
and let him shoot me up?

We're looking for Isaiah Hill.

We think you know where he is.

Tell us, or you overdose.

If you argue,
you overdose.

If the very next syllable
out your sorry-ass mouth

doesn't point us
in the direction

of Isaiah Hill,
you overdose.

Am I clear?

Good.

Because right now,
I'm an off-duty cop.

And as an off-duty cop,

I'll do whatever it takes
to find that young man.

Anything to say?

No? Nothing?

Perhaps half a milligram
will be enough to
loosen your tongue.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Whoa! Whoa!
Hold on! Hold on! Hold on!

I... I didn't sell him drugs.

All right, he...

He bought a gun.

A gun?

That's not a location.

Maybe another milligram
will jog your memory.

Look, my... My guy delivered
it to him in Ivy City.

Brick building
on the corner
of 16 and Oak.

Apartment 3.

You just missed
the ride of a lifetime.

Lena. It's me, Tom.

Come in.

All right, so,

I ran a search on Pete
at the courthouse.

Turns out he pled guilty
to mail fraud.

Why? Because he sold thousands
of patient medical records
to insurance companies

so they could deny coverage.

Lost his license
and would've spent
12 years in prison

if he didn't flip on...
What are you doing?
You going somewhere?

You should go.

Did you hear what I said?
Pete is a bad guy.

I don't wanna
talk about Pete.

You said you were
gonna help me find him.

You should really go.
Did he get to you?

Was Pete here?
I don't want to talk about it.

And I'm sorry
that your friend
got killed

and that you lost
something important
to you,

but I can't help you.

I went to the
D.C. Clerk's Office.

There was no record
that Pete McGee
was ever married.

What?
Five minutes.

Just to show you
what I found.

Argon Wright?
Agents Ressler
and Navabi, FBI.

FBI? What's going on?

We have reason
to believe you may be
in danger.

Why would I be in danger?
What do you mean? From who?

We know about
Knobbs and Dunning.

Knobbs and Dunning?
I don't...

Who are Knobbs and Dunning?

All right, drop the act.

We know about your...

Down! Down!
Get down! Gun!

Move!
Get out of the way!

Move! Out of the way!

Mr. C?

We need names.
Asset names...

Everything was
compartmentalized.

We never saw each other.

I didn't even know the names
of the operators I handled.

Think a little harder.

Look, lady, I don't know.
It's...

That gunman,
the guy in the car.

Yeah, the Oldsmobile.

I used to run an asset
who drove a car
just like that.

'86 Olds. I mean,
this was nearly
30 years ago.

What was his name?

I told you,
we didn't use names.

All I know,
we called him Number 5.

You may not have
known his name,

but you had to
have a protocol.

The Agency would
give me the target.

Once they sent the dossier,
I'd page Number 5
a signal, 342.

3-4-2?

It's a reference
to a post office box.

In Seven Valleys.

It's where he'd pick up
his assignments.

342?

Do you have
a record of it?

Lucky for you,
I don't need one.

Why's that?

Because Mr. Dawson
has had that box since
before I worked here.

Mr. Dawson?
Calvin.

Hardly comes in, though.
Not sure why he keeps it.

Most of his mail
is delivered to the home.

So, his house
is here in town.

Not a house, he lives at the
convalescent home up on Elm.

Briar Oak.

Message was delivered.

Looks like the target
is standing down.

You could've killed us.

It's a miracle
we weren't hurt.

Are you even listening?

Why are you here?
And with a gun.

Whoever you thought
you were shooting at,

if you tell us who they are,
we can help you.

Who are you?
What are you
doing with a gun?

Protecting myself.
From who?

Line forms to the left.

Perhaps you could be
a tad more specific.

How about cops?

Like you.
He's not a cop.

Cops who beat.

Cops who kill.

He's not a cop.
Then who is he?

A criminal.

Isaiah, please.

Who were you shooting at?

I needed to buy something

and my regular guy
wasn't holding.

"Something"? Fentanyl?

I heard about this guy,
Zeke Wilson.

He owns a club. 24/7 action.

If you can get in,
it's like a candy store.

I knew I couldn't
get in the front,
so I tried the back.

Zeke was there in the alley,

arguing with a guy.

Zeke...

He shot him.

So you're a witness
he's trying to get rid of.

You should have
told me, son.

I am not your son.

No, you're not.

But I am your friend.

And I'm here to help.
Will you let me?

I told my boss
I forgot something up here.

I'm in Pete's office.

I'm putting you on speaker.
And you know his passwords?

I thought I did.
Then again,
I thought he was married.

Look, anything Pete found out
about the bones I gave him,

what he knows, or where he is,
it won't be
labelled or easy to find.

So you got to
upload everything.

Tell someone they're married
when they're not?

Isn't it usually
the other way around?

Pete's a con artist.
He conned us both.

He killed my friend,
and now he's sent
someone to threaten you.

I got in. It's uploading.

LIZ: I'm sorry,
where is Mr. Dawson?
We were told he lived here.

He does.

But he's with Eleanor now,
his wife.

She stops by occasionally
and takes him out
for a day or so.

Can you tell us
about his condition?

Calvin was injured years ago
in a robbery.

Beaten badly
and left for dead.

Truthfully, he's lucky
to have survived it at all.

But the brain injury left him
with anterograde amnesia.

And what does that mean?

Calvin can't form
new memories.

He can operate in the present,

but what happened
10 hours or 10 days ago,

for him,
it's as if it never happened.

But his long-term memory
is still intact?

Yes.
Everything that happened
prior to the injury.

End of an era, huh?

As far as he's concerned,
the last 30 years
didn't happen.

He can do the same puzzle,
read the same book,
eat the same meal.

"Epoch."

Every time, it's brand-new.

What about when
he sees a new car,

or a flat-screen TV?

Visual cues that
are in conflict
with his world view,

that he's living in 1989,
simply don't register.

They go into his
mental spam folder.

Where are the girls?
They still asleep?

Karen
picked them early today.

We need to speak
with Mr. Dawson.

Do you have a contact number
or address for his wife?

I...
I should get to work.

Isn't it early?

Early is on time,

on time is late,

and late...

Hello.

Oh.

Yes, hi.

Oh. Oh.

Yes, I understand.

Thank you.

Who was that?
What's wrong?

Daycare.

Mia was on the playground
and took a fall.

They're taking her
to the hospital.

Is she okay? We should go.
Let me get my purse.

FBI!

Right side is clear!

Move!

Still warm.

AGENT 2: Clear.

Samar.

"Morning radio,
November 9th, 1989."

Dunning.

Knobbs.

Wright.

All of them.

Eleanor, what's going on?

I told you.
There's been an incident.

The wife.

He lied to her.

Led her to believe
he worked at
an actual travel agency,

had a normal life.

She had no idea.

I was just
trying to get by.

Trying to take care of you.

After the accident,
somehow, somewhere,

there was a slip-up,
and she picked up on it.

I was at the bank,
trying to figure out

how to keep up
with the medical bills,

your medical bills,

when the bank manager asked me

why I hadn't dipped into
your personal account.

What account?
Eleanor, I don't understand.

That's exactly what I said.

She stumbled
onto his finances.

I was able
to connect the dots
by following the money.

Your travels were like a map.

A congressman from Utah
murdered while he
was in Salt Lake.

A South African police general
gunned down while he was in
Cape Town.

You can't imagine
how angry and afraid I was

to find out
that the man that I loved,

the father of my children,

was a monster.

There's no closure
confronting a man

who doesn't even know
what day it is,

so she just kept digging.

Every name,

every number.

It took me four years
to get to the Travel Agency,

and another six
to figure out
who worked there.

Finally, she figured out
his protocols.

The codes,

the systems.

How the long-defunct
Travel Agency

communicated
with their assets.

ELEANOR: The post box
in Seven Valleys

was the final piece.

I figured out
how it worked.

The pages, the dossiers.

And she used
those same protocols
to run her husband.

Took advantage
of his amnesia,

making him believe
it was still 1989,

using him as her own
contract killer

to take out those
in the Travel Agency.

All the while, he had no idea.

What... Whatever
you think happened,

whatever you think
I've done...

Oh, I know exactly
what you did.

But you don't.
Because you forget everything.

What a blessing that must be.

Isaiah's father
was pulled over
for having expired plates.

Got out of the car
to see for himself.

Officer told him
to get back in the vehicle.

But he'd paid
for the tags,

and knew there had to be
some mistake.

He was unarmed.

Just wanted to
see for himself.

Officer gave him
a second warning.

When he reached
to get his wallet,
the officer shot him.

Six times.

Isaiah watched the man
who murdered his father

tried and acquitted
on all counts.

For him,
for so many like him,

it's the gospel truth
that if you're
black in this country,

and you say the wrong word,
you could be killed.

Ask the wrong question,

look the wrong way,
you can be killed.

Almost every cop
I've served with,

black or white,

I'd be proud to
call them my brother.

It tears me up knowing
what so many people
in my community think of them.

Just like it tears me up
knowing that the cops

who killed my other brothers

will almost never
be held responsible.

Harold, your justice system
protects those cops

as it will protect you
no matter what you do
to Zeke Wilson.

Zeke Wilson is
a blood-sucking scum

who preys on
people like Isaiah.

Yes.

And if you choose
to hold him responsible

for what happened
to Isaiah's father

or for all the people
of color

who are killed
for saying the wrong thing

or looking the wrong way,
you can do that.

You may be black, Harold,
but you carry a badge.

Like it or not,
that means you're a made man.

Your justice system
will protect you

just like it protected
the cop who killed
Isaiah's father.

Is that your observation
or your advice?

My observation is that

you came to this party
with an unregistered handgun.

My advice would be,

as Isaiah's
father got six bullets,
I'd give Zeke Wilson 12,

order a rib eye,
raise a glass of
Chateau Latour,

and toast to a job well done.

Sounds like a plan.

Yes, if I were going in there,
but I'm not.

You're taking it
from here, Harold.

And while your system
won't hold you to account

for whatever you choose to do,

your conscience will.

Though, on the off chance

that I've overestimated
your tendency
towards self-restraint,

Dembe will be there
to watch your back.

Hold up.

Zeke Wilson?

Don't point.
Don't signal.
Just nod.

Guy on the couch? Beard?

Special Agent Harold Cooper.
FBI.

"Special Agent."

What makes you special,
Agent Cooper?

I'm taking you in
on felony charges
of intimidating a witness.

Witness to what?

Murder.

And when he gives
his statement,

I'll be charging you
with that as well.

I got no idea
what you're talking about.

Isaiah Hill is
a friend of mine.

Isaiah Hill?

You sure you wanna
go down this road?

'Cause accidents happen
to snitches even when
their friend's a G.

Are you threatening him?

I'm just saying,
accidents happen.

Hit by a car,
drowned in a pool.

And you can't arrest someone
for an accident, can you,

Not-So-Special Agent Cooper?

You're right.

I'm not so special.

But I want my friend
to have a chance at life,

and I want scum like you
where they belong,

Zeke Wilson.

You're under arrest.

We need a location
on Eleanor Belle Dawson.

Notify State Patrol,
we're looking for a black
'86 Oldsmobile.

We already issued a BOLO,

but tracking these two
is gonna be difficult.

Dawson leads
an analogue life,

which means
no technology to trace.
No cell, no navigation.

What about the pager?

His wife probably used it
to signal Dawson.

There is only one number
that's been calling
that pager.

Each page coming
on the same day
as a killing.

The wife's burner.

Aram, we need you
to get a trace on that burner.

Yeah, all over it.

What are we doing here?
Why are we in a cemetery?

Calvin, sweetheart,

we're here to
see the children.

Every day, I tell you
Karen picked up
Sam and Mia early.

Karen hasn't
picked up the girls
in 30 years.

They're dead, Calvin.

No.

We were in Miami
on what I thought was
a family vacation.

I collapsed at the pool.
My appendix burst.

Do you remember?

When I went into surgery,
you took the girls
out of the hospital.

You told me you didn't
want them to be scared.

But what you didn't tell me

was that you had somewhere
to be that afternoon.

A job.

El... Eleanor?

Not my girls.

You took our girls with you
to kill a man.

You left them in the car

and walked inside
the back of a restaurant
to do a job

which should have
taken you, what,
two minutes?

But it didn't take you
two minutes, Calvin,

because the man
you went to kill
knew you were coming...

Got a jump on you.

Left you for dead, bleeding,
and beaten in the alley

while our girls
were locked in the car...

Too young to know any better.

The medical examiner said
electrolyte abnormalities
kicked in

and sparked
cardiac arrhythmias

and something he called
"skin slippage."

Everyone from Seawall
is dead.

Except Wright.

The police got to him.

But everyone else.

It doesn't bring
the girls back,

or make me feel as good
as I thought it would.

But you did it.

Eleanor Dawson!

FBI!

I need you to
put that gun down.

They told me you were
at the convalescent home
looking for him.

You know who he is, right?

LIZ: Yes.

If you put the gun down,
we can talk about it.
I want to talk about it.

ELEANOR: I don't know
what you people
think is gonna happen.

You don't gain anything
by arresting me.

Or putting me in jail.

I'm not a danger to society
like he is.

My name is Elizabeth.

I'm a mother, like you.

I want to understand.

You're a mother?

Yes.

Oh, good.

Then you'll understand this.

That's it.

That's my statement
about what I saw.
What comes next?

The U.S. Attorney
will review what you said.

Decide whether
to file charges.

And if it goes to court,
you'll be called to testify.

In court?

Against Wilson
where everyone can see?

Nothing will happen
if you do.

You have my word on that.

The word of a cop.

A cop who knows
what you're going through.

My father marched
with Dr. King.

He was attacked
by police dogs
in Birmingham,

was beaten
on Bloody Sunday.

For his troubles,
the Bureau opened up
a secret file on him.

Called him a radical,
enemy of the State.

He was my hero.

An organization
I've devoted my life to

did everything in its power
to destroy him.

But that's why
I devoted my life to it.

To make sure
the Bureau never did
to another black man

what it did to my old man.

And mine.

Come on, I'll take you home.

I need some help, Mr. Cooper.

I'm gonna try,

but I think I need some help.

Yeah.

Let's get you home, Isaiah.

Did you find
what you were
looking for?

TOM: No.
But I did find this.

"Congratulations, Lena Mercer!

"You have qualified
to receive
a UVA Visa card."

I don't understand.

You have Pete's passwords.
He has yours.

And he's using them to open
new credit cards in your name.

The reason we can't find Pete
is he's not
using his accounts.

He's using yours.

And that's how
we're going to find him.

The warning didn't take.

Yes, sir.

I'll make sure
of it next time.

I feel like you're
a natural golfer.
I'm...

just not.

You're naturally
good at many things.

Like what?

Like what?

Take it from me

You're good company.

Well, that doesn't count!

All of what I know

I'll think of something.

You know what?
Never mind.

It's hard to find peace

Buried in so deep

I can only hear
the world is shouting *

Slow down!

Liz, why are we running?

I don't know why
we just flew across town.

Will you?

What?

I know it's super
spur-of-the-moment,

and this is not
very romantic,

I mean, we're under
fluorescent lights.

These pens are attached
to the table, for God's sake,
but...

Look, with everything
I see in a day,

I just feel so lucky
to have you.

And if we don't
do this now...
Hey.

Yes.

That's it.

I now pronounce you
husband and wife.