The Mysteries of Laura (2014–2016): Season 1, Episode 3 - The Mystery of the Biker Bar - full transcript

Your dad bought you slingshots?

Throw them to the ground and put
your hands where I can see them.

Don't move a muscle!

Or you will be grounded
until the apocalypse.

What is the popocalypse?

It's a long time to be grounded.

I told you we should
have pretended to cry.

Those monsters broke my window,

and you're gonna pay for it!

Ned, I am very sorry to
hear about the damage.

But just to clarify,



and remember, giving false
information to a police officer is...

a crime.

Did you see my boys throw the ball?

No.

Are you aware that my
boys don't own a baseball?

- No.
- You know, maybe it's best

for you to hold on to that

until the actual perpetrator
is brought to justice.

Shh. Pretend you're
invisible and she'll go away.

Did we just not discuss the popocalypse?

You can't yell at us in here.

Oh, really?

And why is that?

Because we're in the safety zone.



- Nice try.
- Oh, yeah.

We are gonna talk about vandalism.

Oh...

And you owe me a baseball!

Diamond. This is my day off, so don't...

Homicide at the wharf. Your
card was in the victim's pocket.

I'll be there as soon as I can.

Hi.

Sorry.

Breaking in a new babysitter this week.

What do we got?

We got male,

mid-60s, shot once in the back,

found floating under the pier.

And my card was in his pocket?

Your unlucky day.

Oh...

My God.

Saint Jerry.

Real name is Jeremy Patch.

Patron saint of the
downtrodden of lower Manhattan.

His bar was my go-to haunt
when I was in the academy.

Jake and I hung out there
before we were married.

Jeremy's Ale House on Front?

That is not exactly a
cop-friendly environment.

Jerry knew that I was on the job.

Never spilt my secret.

Well, I am guessing he
wanted to reach out to you.

Of course, I also found a few marbles,

a book of matches, some old receipts.

That's Jerry.

Forever the packrat.

Okay...

So he was fishing there, shot in the back,

fell into the water. Any shell casings?

Nope.

Oh, Jerry...

I am going to find the bastard
that did this to you.

Morning, captain.

Just heard over the radio.

Saint Jerry.

I haven't seen him
since the twins were born.

There wouldn't be an "us,"
if it wasn't for Jerry.

Lot of people wouldn't have
been anything without Jerry.

Don't tell me that tourist
is taking a selfie

with Jerry's dead body as the background.

Hey!

The Statue of Liberty is that way!

Fanny pack!

Go on! Nah-ah!

I will...

I'm so sorry, Ruby.

I know you are, sweets.

He loved you kids so much.

We loved him.

When was the last time you saw him, Ruby?

This morning.

He left before dawn, like always,

to go drop his line and
try for a catch of the day.

I got to open that gate,

or else I'm gonna totally lose my mind.

Jerry loved the way the
light poured in, didn't he?

Remember what he called it?

- The last...
- Slice of sunshine

in New York City.

All those Sunday biker brunches.

Who'd think that fried spam on
wonder bread could taste so good!

It didn't. We were drunk.

The place looks great, Ruby.

Don't sound so surprised.

- No, no. It's just it used to be a...
- A dump.

It's not the word I would've chosen.

We got this code bomber.

He gets off making complaints to the city,

everything from noise,

to parking, to health code.

Feel like I spend half my day cleaning now.

We're looking for motive, Ruby.

You think this guy could be a suspect?

If I knew who it was, I could say.

Any chance this is about money?

I mean, we always had
enough to pay our bills,

but not much more than that.

I gave up the thought a long time ago

that we were gonna cash
out and retire to Florida,

the way the two of you
are gonna do someday.

We're not together anymore, Ruby.

Get out...

The young lovebirds?

A long time ago.

Ruby, can you think of anyone
who might have had it in for Jerry?

Everybody loved that man.

And he loved everybody.

What is it, Ruby?

There's this homeless guy...

Crazy Eddie.

Jerry let him sleep in the storage room
sometimes, but he went off his meds

and he got a little loud,
and Jerry made him leave.

Eddie Fainlen, violent priors,

long psych history,

- hence the crazy.
- Where do we find this guy?

Last social services report had him
camped under a scaffolding in midtown.

Thanks.

So, you did all the background checks?

State, FBI, Homeland Security?

She is as clean as a baby's bottom.

"Soft" as a baby's bottom?

- Clean, nah-uh. Trust me.
- Copy that.

And after a two-hour interview
and three government agencies,

you can trust this babysitter,
okay? She checks out.

I trust her, she's with
them right now, isn't she?

But trust is a multi-faceted
concept for a mother.

So swing by. Be discreet.

- Ish.
- Okay, ish.

- What was that about?
- Covert mission.

This must be the place.

Mmm-hmm.

What are you, a heathen?

Knock, knock!

- Who's there?
- Detectives Diamond and Soto.

CIA, NSA?

- DOD?
- NYPD.

Eddie, we're the good guys.

Show me some ID.

Good idea, Eddie.

You really can never be too careful.

Yeah.

They're, they're after me.

I, I know too much...

I can see the black helicopters

circling at night.

- Spying on me!
- Easy, Eddie...

- I'm black, white...
- Easy, Eddie, Eddie... gun!

Ahhh! Don't kill me!

- Don't kill me! Don't kill me!
- Relax. Turn around.

- Just relax.
- Don't kill me!

This was my day off.

Got him.

Eddie, I need to talk to
you about Jerry Patch.

Code name, Birdman.

Black op, highly classified,

they put implants in my head!

When I talk, they flip the switch.

Zzzzz, I'm a dead man.
They're probably listening now.

Birdman is watching.

He'll know if I tell you.

He'll know if I tell you.

He'll know if I tell you.

__

We're supposed to get all that stuff?

Why?

__

This is the safety zone, Eddie.

They can't hear you in here.

Yeah, but there are long range
multi-directional high-frequency scanners...

But I got that covered.

The jammer's on.

The jammer's on?

When I was growing up,

we lived in Yonkers,

red brick building,

right by the Metro-north tracks.

Noisy, but that was a good thing.

Me and my dad

fought all the time,

he told me I was throwing my life away.

And then,

I met Jerry.

And he accepted me.

He didn't try to change me.

And I loved him for that.

Me too.

I ain't much...

But he treated me

like a man.

You know he's dead,

Eddie?

I heard this morning,

over by the pier someone said.

And it's my job

to find out who killed him,

and I think you can help me.

- I know stuff...
- Tell me.

I don't know.

- It's hard.
- I know...

But I think you can do it.

Code name,

Birdman.

He's evil. He hated Jerry.

He is always watching, spying
on Jerry, on...

He knows I'm here.

He knows I'm talking to you.

Please don't let him get me.

- Please don't let him...
- I won't...

I promise.

Okay.

- Do we need to review the flashcards again?
- No!

- So, we're ready to play?
- Yes!

Game on!

- Buzz.
- Nicholas.

Harry Tub!

Harriet Tubman. Good!

Who was an A-bo-li-tion-ist

and spied for the

union during the Civil...

- War!
- One space each!

Max! Max!

- Can we open the door?
- Sure.

Hi, hello, I'm Max. Laura's Max.

- May I help you?
- Indeed you may.

Laura is out in the field

investigating an investigive matter.

And she asked me to swing on by

to see if she had left
a file on the counter.

But it is not...

Okay, then.

False alarm.

And I take it the empty mac
and cheese box on the counter

means the boys have, in fact, eaten lunch?

- They have. Anything else?
- That is all.

Okay, I got to find that file
that I was talking about.

So, okay, well... All right.

Um...

Onward.

See you later.

He's weird, right?

- Duh!
- Okay.

You put our only suspect in the psych ward?

- What were you thinking?
- That Eddie is sick and needs help.

He's not the shooter.

Which conclusion you came to
based on your famous and

thoroughly inadmissible gut instinct.

Yes.

Plus the fact that his gun,

which is a different caliber than the murder
weapon, is also completely inoperable.

But let's just go with my gut for short.

And uh, what does your gut tell you
about this particular piece of evidence?

Ned, the neighbor, dropped that off today.

He said you told him the
boys didn't own a baseball.

- Okay, are we done here?
- I wish.

No, Ned has a long list of grievances,

including trampling
on his grass,

chalk drawings on his sidewalk,
which he couldn't bear to describe...

It was a hot dog and donut holes!

Second page...

Little men and their lists.

Doesn't ned have anything
better to do with his time?

Because I certainly do!

- Status on the home front?
- All quiet.

Oh, come on. The boys eat
babysitters for breakfast.

Noey were eating peanut
butter cracker thingies

and talking about Civil War history.

- Don't buy it. Go back.
- On it.

Code bomber?

His complaints were all posted to city
websites, so I backtracked the ISP

- through the sub-routers embedded...
- English, please.

Okay, dumbing down.

The same Internet address
used to report the complaints,

also hosts a bird-watching
blog, which is not anonymous.

The author is Cyrus Speeler, who happens
to live across the street from...

Jerry's bar.

Damn.

Crazy Eddie was right all along.

Code name, Birdman.

Jerry Patch is a menace.

Something needed to be done a long time ago.

I didn't pay $2 million for this apartment

to have my life ruined
by that tattooed greaser.

- Kombucha?
- Come whatcha?

Tea. I brewed some myself.

It's excellent for the digestive tract,

and also for the lymphatic system.

Yes...

I can see how that would
pass right through you.

What exactly did you do about Jerry Patch?

What any citizen should.

File complaints with the
department of health,

the liquor board,

- sanitation...
- Pretty big binocular collection

you got there.

I understand you're a birdwatcher.

I prefer aviculturalist.

My bad.

My binoculars help me keep track

of the local egrets and cormorants.

And also the dozens of code violations
that plague this neighborhood.

The worst offender is that noxious bar.

I keep track of their transgressions.

Little men and their lists.

Beg your pardon?

The number of violations
are certainly outrageous.

I wish I could help.

But sadly, NYPD policy requires
a written record of the offenses.

Which, of course, I have kept.

Oh!

Cross-indexed by date

and the appropriate section
of the municipal code.

Wow!

- Very impressive.
- Yes.

- May I?
- Uh...

You know, I would really love
to show this to the mayor.

As an example of outstanding citizenship.

You might even get a commendation.

- I'd be honored.
- Is it up-to-date?

Are there any violations,
say, from this morning

that you haven't had a chance to enter?

It's current through 7:00 last night.

See, that's when I join my audubon
group for a local evening bird tour.

We have some beautiful
photos of great horned owls.

- I'd love to see them.
- Oh, well...

But we really need to follow up on the
complaints in your notebook right away.

What are you smiling about?
Bird nerd's got an alibi.

Yes.

But the nerd's notebook is
a virtual security camera.

Earth to Laura.

Oh, damn it!

I just had this shirt cleaned.

My bad.

Hand sanitizer's not gonna work.

Soap is soap.

Hmm...

Or not.

Get anything from the notebook?

People are idiots.

Does no one understand what it
means to live in an actual city?

Complainers like my neighbor,
old man buzzkill and

Cyrus the Birdman, they should
just all move to North Dakota.

Would you get out of bird guy's OCD diary

and get back in the field?
We have a murder to solve.

Hold up, hold up.

Meredith,

pull up the 911 calls from
last Thursday at 11:17 P.M.

You really should learn
how to use a computer,

they're becoming customary in the workplace.

Last Thursday, Cyrus called 911 to report
a screaming match outside the bar.

Sent.

You have to do something.
She's been screaming

for seven minutes straight!

Sir, we'll send a car
as soon as one becomes available.

I can't sleep, that's a priority.

I'm holding the phone out the window.

I'll kill you, Jerry,
you hear me? I'll kill you!

Looks like the OCD diary
just gave us a suspect.

You're welcome.

Yes!

I'll kill you, Jerry,
you hear me? I'll kill you!

Oh, my God. That's Faith McGowen.

She used to wait tables for us.

- Used to?
- Well, Jerry fired her a couple weeks ago.

Stuff kept going missing
like people's wallets,

and tip money. The only common denominator

was it happened when Faith was working.

Why didn't you mention this to me before?

'Cause Jerry never told me
she went off on him like that.

He told me that she was just grateful
he didn't turn her in to the cops.

Why would he lie?

You know Jerry, he never says
a bad word about anybody.

He always did have a soft
spot for those curvy girls.

You think this could've been
more than just a soft spot, Ruby?

Thirty years we were together, Jake.

That man never cheated on me.

Also, she had a boyfriend,
it was serious, nah.

Any idea where she's working now?

I think she's at one of
those knock-off biker joints.

In Brooklyn, it's the Bottom Rung
'cause we sent the last check there.

Beards, baby faces,
artisanal pickles.

Looks like Faith downgraded
from iconic to ironic.

Any sign of her?

Yup, moving in.

Check the damn card.

Don't look at the weight,
I was pregnant and bloated.

Thank you.

How do you wanna handle this?

Solo.

- You got it, granny.
- Not funny.

Ask yourself this,

if it takes two gallons of smog
generating, ozone depleting gasoline,

to transport a typical American to work,

how many millions of gallons would it take

to transport

Han Solo from Tatooine

to Naboo?

- Go away!
- Copy that.

Sorry.

Come on, dude.

- I didn't kill Jerry.
- Then why did you threaten him?

He caught me stealing. And I
was embarrassed or whatever.

You're covering for someone, aren't you?

I'm guessing it's a boyfriend?

What? No.

Judging by the poorly
hidden bruises on your body,

your guy's a jealous, violent type.

Probably never lets you out of his sight.

Comes to work to make sure
you're not flirting with other guys.

Steals a few wallets while he's at it.

Hey! Hey! Come back here!

Police officer in need of
immediate assistance.

Laura, go get that scumbag.

Ever wanted a free pass to go as
fast as you want in broad daylight?

Hell, yeah.

Helmet's not negotiable.

Go! Follow that motorcycle.

Turn signal.

Stop! It's not safe.

He's getting away!

Not anymore.

A little help here?

You know what? Put this on your cheek.

- No.
- It's very absorbent.

I'm fine.

You don't look so fine.

Put pressure on it.

And you, you might want to get
changed before we go to Jerry's wake.

I don't want everyone
knowing that we're cops.

Well, what am I supposed to wear?

You must have something left in
the closet from back in the day.

Once a 6, always a 6.

Whoa, mom!

- You look sexy!
- No, I do not.

Did your father teach you that word?

Apology accepted.

Speaking of your father
and his wonderful influence,

you are each paying for
half of Ned's window.

Can't you pay half, mommy?

You can't have three halves.

Maybe daddy could pay half, too.

You're going in the wrong
direction. Piggy banks!

Now. Go, go, go, go, go, go.

Thank you so much for staying late tonight.

- I quit.
- What?

- No, no, you don't.
- Yeah, I do.

You interview me up the ass,

you come to my house, you meet my parents,

my grandmother!

And still you don't trust me!

Of course I don't
trust you, I'm a police officer,

I don't trust anyone.

But, I will trust you. Just...

- Just give me time.
- Sorry, time's run out.

Later, gators. Promote racial equality.

- Bye, Sammi.
- And recycle.

Boo!

So this is what a jackhole who tries
to outrun the NYPD looks like.

- I got nothing to say.
- You don't need to say a word.

I figure you had your girlfriend cover
for you while you stole from the bar.

Saint Jerry was an easy
mark, but you got pissed

when he grew a pair, and fired her.

If you beat your woman,

then I bet you're enough of a
prick to shoot a Saint, huh?

- You got nothing on me.
- You're right.

But I cared about Jerry.

I'm not gonna rest easy until whoever
did this spends 25 to life behind bars.

So, forgive me if I play hardball.

You can't do that!

And yet, I just did. Now,

without this little tasty morphine drip,

you're gonna be in a world of hurt.

I have nowhere to be,

so, I am just going to hang out here.

Unless of course you have
something you want to say.

Okay...

Okay.

I didn't touch that guy.

Forgive me if I don't just
take your word for it.

Any chance you have an alibi
for yesterday morning?

Okay, you want to play it that way...

Your splint looks a little loose.

I am just going to, uh...

- Tweak it.
- I was in Jersey!

At the shore hills mall just
boosting a range rover.

Then I took it down to
a chop shop in Newark.

The address is in my jeans pocket.

I swear! Now let go of that line!

Plea let go! I can't take the pain.

This one is the saline drip,

that one is the morphine drip, but,

thank you for your confession, and...

Yup!

Say hello to rikers for me.

Hey, that's anti-constitutional!

Ow!

Okay! Still got it.

What beautiful boys!

But I don't know that you needed to
bring them to my husband's wake...

I'm sorry, babysitting disaster.

No, we're happy you're here.

Um, how about you guys
just go sit over there, okay?

All right, everybody.

To our friend,

Jerry,

a true man of the people.

- Jerry!
- Yes!

Can't believe so many people came!

Of course they came.

He made this place a haven
for rebels and rejects.

I don't know, kinda
feels like a last hurrah.

Maybe I...

should just go back
down to Florida after all.

You can't shut down.

Who else would have us?

I don't know about the rest of us,
but I know who would have you.

Baby daddy at two o'clock.

Daddy!

You brought 6-year-olds to a wake.

It's time they understood
the circle of life.

Wow, and body shots...

Hey, there are kids here.

Yuck!

Hey,

how about that? They're playing your song.

No, not a chance. Uh-uh, no way.

Seeing the two of you out on
the dance floor one last time,

that's just what Jerry would have wanted.

One dance.

- One.
- Uh-huh.

And keep your hands above the waist.

This is not a good idea.

It's just... it's too
confusing for the boys.

And not for you?

It's Eddie.

Eddie?

- How are you?
- I wanted to thank you for helping me.

I get a little...

You know,

when I'm off my meds.

I am glad you're feeling better.

Is there anything more you can
tell me about Jerry's death?

I don't know what happened.

- I wish I did, I would tell you, I swear.
- It's all right, Eddie,

let me just fix you up a little bit.

- Is this yours?
- It must be Jerry's.

He gave me this suit.

Would you mind emptying out all the pockets?

Yeah.

Saint Jerry, forever the packrat.

Flaco Navarro.

- The loan shark?
- Know any other Flacos

that hang out at Miguel's Pool Hall?

Ruby said they were fine for money.
Why would Jerry take a loan from him?

I don't know. But I do know that Flaco
has skirted two murder prosecutions.

Let's make sure there isn't a third.

Flaco!

What you want, cop?

A raise.

A cohiba.

Yasiel puig in pin stripes. Que
pena que no es un yankee, eh?

Eres cubano?

Mitad, mother's side.

Y tu? Tambien?

Yeah.

I'm from Havana.

You think that makes us hermanos?

I think that makes us exactly what we are.

Two hard-working paisanos just
trying to make it in the big city.

Verdad.

What can I do for you?

Jerry Patch.

El santo Jerry.

I heard what happened.

Que tragedia, ah?

Financial tragedy for you.

He was a little behind on the payments.

- But you tuned him up a little bit?
- No.

I was real patient with Jerry.

- I gave him time to make good.
- Maybe you roughed him up.

Showed him the steel,
no lo querias matar, but...

- Accidents happen.
- You're not listening, cop.

Jerry came to me.

He settled the debt.

- Total?
- Full balance.

10 grand.

Plus interest.

Que paquete, Flaco.

- Jerry was broke.
- Not anymore.

He said he got himself a silent partner.

It doesn't make sense.

Jerry never said anything
about bringing on a partner.

I did all the books, he would have told me.

We heard he was some
super rich, yuppie type.

You saw it at the wake.

There's a lot of Wall Street
guys that come to the bar.

Weekend warriors, they want to
rub shoulders with real bikers,

while really they just ride around in limos.

Ruby, does anybody stand out?

The suits, they
all look alike to me.

I'm sorry.

I really am sorry, Jake.

I just wish I'd paid better attention,

I just...
I don't know what I wish.

Wall Street is infested with
rich guys in limousines,

but I have no idea how
we find the right one.

Oh, I know exactly how.

"Limo on a fire hydrant,"
complete with license plate.

XPD 465.

Oh, thank you, Cyrus Speeler,
you weird and wonderful aviculturist.

Limousine owned by Lloyd Kramer.

Oh wait. Oh, my God.

Do you know who he is? Because I do!

This is the, uh...

- The suit from the wake.
- The billionaire suit from the wake.

According to Manhattan Finance Weekly,

"he is singularly responsible for turning

"lower Manhattan into a
playground for the uber rich."

He bought and demolished a
boys and girls club on Rivington

and turned it into a luxury high-rise.

He paved Paradise and put up a parking lot.

The man is a devil.

God, I hate him.

Not that you're emotionally
invested or anything.

Why aren't you is the question.

Because I'm hung up on this
little thing called evidence

and its little buddy called motive.

He's got a point, Laura.

I mean, why would a guy
like that kill Jerry?

That building's worth chump change to him.

Here's a reason, some uber
developer's gonna build 80 stories

of multimillion dollar
apartments on Jerry's block.

Okay, so they needed his land.

No, they needed his air.

Developers can only build one of
these monstrosities on each block.

So they need to buy the air rights

from all the other buildings to
make sure they don't build up.

They must be paying way more for the
air rights than the buildings are worth.

- Ten times more.
- Whoo!

- That's a lot of free money.
- Unless you're Jerry Patch,

and you live for your Sunday
brunch in the sunshine.

He wouldn't give that up
for any amount of money.

Kramer must've known that, too.

So he had to strike now.

Or lose out forever.

Go get him.

Let's go.

Hello, Lloyd.

- Who the hell are you?
- Laura Diamond, NYPD.

Let's go for a ride.

You need a ride? Hail a cab.

I'll even give you 20 bucks, how's that?

Must be hard making ends meet
on a civil servant's salary.

It's more than you're gonna
earn stamping license plates.

Orange is the new black, Lloyd.

- Or haven't you heard?
- What the hell are you talking about?

How we doing back there?

Where the hell is my driver?

My partner convinced
him to take the night off,

something about outstanding warrants.

Do you know who I am?

Detective Soto, let's take Mr.
Kramer here down to the Waterfront.

Buckle up, Lloyd.

Jerry came here every morning to fish.

He ever tell you why?

'Cause he couldn't bear to
watch as greedy bastards

squeezed in more skyscrapers.

Cut into the last rays of sunshine.

Now you sound like Jerry.

Talking about his rooftop.

- I liked it up there.
- So did I.

Spent some of my favorite
Sundays up on that roof.

So why would you ruin it
by selling the air rights?

- What are you talking about?
- Really, Lloyd?

We checked with the city, you
filed a partnership agreement.

Says you bought half of Jerry's air rights.

For 10 grand.

You conned him. You must have heard about

the plan to develop Jerry's block.

You had to have known what
those air rights were really worth.

Yeah, that's right.

And I went to Ruby and Jerry and said
if they move fast they could cash in big.

Jerry could have done a lot of
good with that money, right?

He wasn't interested.

- How did you change his mind?
- I didn't.

Couple of weeks later, Jerry said
he was in trouble with a loan shark.

I offered to pay off the debt, but
Jerry's too proud to take charity,

even though he gave all his money away.

So instead...

He sold you half of his air rights.

And my 50%?

It's worthless. The developer won't
pay bubkes for half the rights.

It's all or nothing.

That's why you killed Jerry.

To get the other half.

I don't get anything out of Jerry's death.

The remaining half is in his estate.

You can't have three halves.

Sorry?

No...

I am.

Aw, you're an answer to a prayer.

I hate to drink alone.

My dining room table never looks this clean.

Just gotta use the right product.

And lots of elbow grease.

But when we came to tell you about Jerry,
you were using a heavy duty cleanser.

I thought, well, soap's soap.

But you know better, don't you?

- Guess I must've been upset.
- No.

You were making sure there was
no gunshot residue on your hands.

How could you kill the man
that you loved for 30 years?

Jer always said you were a sharp one.

How'd you know?

You can't have three halves.

Jerry sold half of his air rights to Lloyd.

You didn't get a piece of the pie.

I would've been pissed off, too.

It's nothing new.

Jer gave everything we owned
away, including my future.

- I was so angry.
- You could've left.

- With nothing? Like you did?
- Yes!

I put in decades of blood, sweat and
tears. I deserve something out of it.

I tried to talk sense into
him, but that old fool!

He went and he gave our
future away for nothing!

So you shot him.

Just like that?

It broke my heart.

But I had to take care of myself.

No man is going to...

Please tell me that you understand, Laura?

Even if I did,

it wouldn't make this any easier.

You're under arrest

for the murder of Jerry Patch.

You were right.

I was too close to this one.

I didn't even consider Ruby as a suspect.

Me neither.

But, Laura, you did it. You closed the case.

You did just what you promised Jerry.

I just wish I felt better about it.

Me too.

Did we just agree on something?

Oh!

Pray for a miracle.

Thanks for stopping by.

No need to thank me.

- I am here for my check.
- Oh, right.

- Is this a joke?
- No.

Pre-payment for the next six months.

- Blood money.
- Okay, can you stop

throwing out the misplaced
political babble for 10 seconds.

It's an advance.

You're hired.

The boys like you.

I...

like... you.

And over time I will learn to trust you,

implicitly, but for now,

cut a mother some slack!

We're making collages of slain
civil rights leaders tomorrow.

I'll need glue.

Yes!

Are you kidding me!

We're in the safety zone!