Veronica Mars (2004–2007): Season 4, Episode 6 - Entering a World of Pain - full transcript

As Veronica learns more about Nicole's past, her suspicion deepens. A frantic phone call from Paris leads to a search for Matty. Veronica unwittingly does legwork for Leo.

Previously on Veronica Mars...

Where's the ring, raghead?!

- I don't know!
- Liar!

Abu Ghraaaah!

Kill those two guys back there.
I never want to see them again.

This is from the congressman.

Big Dick Casablancas and Clyde Pickett

are responsible for the bombings.

They are killing Neptune

as a spring break destination city!

- I'm makin' it a bigger thing?!
- Clyde, no one believes him!

He's the pizza boy who cried wolf.


There's something digging into my back.


I need help from someone with
top secret government clearance

in finding the person

who is blackmailing Daniel Maloof.

You don't seem to care
about all those people

getting killed by bombs, Juan Diego.

Six hundred. It'll get
you far away from here.

It's a pattern,

- but I was missing a perp.
- And now?

What about Nicole?

We know for sure that
almost every victim

passed through Quacks.

Not a lot of ladies slip on sap gloves

and knock men out with
practiced right hooks.

I think it was there,

sitting at my desk listening
to my new buddy Nicole

playing Mr. Wobbly Hides His
Helmet with one of her bartenders

that it crossed my mind.

There might be something wrong with me.

Maybe Logan was right. I should
have sought professional help

- right then.
- Veronica.

Line one, Ms. Mars.

Thanks, darlin'.

Uh, coffee. Black.

You're prettier when you smile.

Veronica Mars.

Of course I remember.

She did? How?

Okay. I'll look into it right away.

Okay, Renee.

I'll talk to you soon. Bye.

Matty's family left on a spring
break vacation to Paris.

Matty's mom and stepfather
were in first class,

so neither of them noticed
that Matty never boarded.

She Home Alone-d them.

Matty's mom wants me to find her.

- Well, you've done it before.
- Oh.

And Nicole sold Comrade Quacks
to Big Dick Casablancas

just days after confronting him
at the City Council meeting.

But someone was just telling me
that Nicole couldn't be a suspect

because she would never
destroy her own business

by setting off these bombs.

Well, that person,

whoever it was,

is a real asshole.

Alexa. Who's the bomber?

Uh, we don't have one of those.

Then who the hell's been talkin'
to me when you're not here?

Bonjour, mon enfant terrible.

Quelle surprise.

Where's the wine?

In your mother's voice when
she called me this morning.

Of course my mom called you.

Yeah. She shoulda just let it slide.

I mean, uncool, Mom.

Who's the Salvador Dali of string art?

Me. It was hanging up in the
office when it blew up.

I did it when I was ten. Dad loved it.

Did you know that Big
Dick left his first wife

for this tart 20 years younger than him?

I know everything.

Did you know that Big Dick had a son

who blew up a busload of kids?

Fully up to speed.

So what I don't get is why

you don't think his asshole
father could be the bomber?

I did at first.


Matty, with each bomb, it
seems less and less likely.

But he's the one profiting
from the bombs.

He's buying up all the land.

I just don't think he has the
stomach for mass murder.

So he hires people.

Like Perry Walsh, the guy
who planted the bomb

in our vending machine?

Or that guy Clyde?

Clyde was well known for robbing banks

using nothing more than good
manners and his bedroom voice.


Call your mom.

Tell her you're okay.

Whoa. Don't tase me,
bro, I'll make the call.

It's yours.

It's pretty self-explanatory.

What's up, Don?

I only have a few minutes

before I have to brief
Senator Klynholtz.

Which tie best tells the House
Republicans to jam it up their asses?

Uh, no tie. A dashiki.

And I always thought you'd look
good in a kufi prayer cap.

So, blue tie.

Oh, my God. You used to have balls.

"Thirty minutes or less."
Do you remember those days?

I envy you, Penny. No
real responsibilities.

Still able to shake
your first at the Man.

Hey, I have got it all goin' on.

Anyway, the reason I called...

It's not for fashion advice?

Carol mentioned to me that you
two were pursuing a new theory,

something about prostituting oneself?

Anyway, us fellow Murderheads
all agree it'd be best

if you ran any new theories by me first

before announcing them publicly.

Shit, the Senator's gonna be pissed.
Tell me you're onboard.


There's my team player.



Uh, FBI agents are ineligible
to collect rewards.

So what I'm hearing is
that there is no reason

you should not tell me
everything you know.

Okay. Here's what I know.

My bosses are having us chase a guy
that I don't think is the guy.

He's a serial bomber, but I...

- Why don't you like him?
- Well, he's a racist.

A racist? Well, then I
don't like him either.

Yeah, but these Neptune
bombings, they don't feel like

they have a racial component to them.


The victims are like a Benneton ad.

Exactly. But the people
above me in the food chain

tell me to focus on this guy,
so I'm gonna focus on this guy.

Unless, of course, you've
already solved the case.

Is this, uh, your bag full o' clues?

No, that's my bag full o' lady stuff.

Suspect sighting in Reno.
We gotta boogie.

Okay. Let's not be late
capturing the wrong guy.

Uh, it's good to see you, Veronica.

"Prostitute yourself"?

Yeah. Exactly.

It's all laid for you. It's
practically courtroom ready!

Get the hell out of my office!

You are the pizza boy who cried wolf,

and we are done listening to you!

Do you understand?!

These are old case files.

Deaths written off as accidents
from previous spring breaks.

So Leo said it was okay for you to
photograph confidential FBI files?

Not in those exact words.

Which words did he use?

It was more of a vibe.

There was a twinkle of
consent in his eye,

the invitation implicit in the
very act of leaving the room.

Implicit because he left you in the room

and didn't specifically say,
"Please don't photograph these."

- See? You get it.
- Yep.

What are you reading?

The incident at Chattanooga
Charlie's last spring break.

I kind of remember it.

One of the tanks exploded,
killed an employee.

Report called it equipment failure.

What do you got?

Another suspicious accident.

Three spring breaks ago,

A Hearst freshman Pi
Sig dies on the beach

from burns suffered when his tent
catches on fire with him in it.

There were whispers of it
being a hazing gone wrong,

but again, written off as an accident.

I'll drop by Chattanooga Charlie's.

I've already got a
rapport with the owner.

Okay, sure.

And me and the guys at Pi Sigma
Sigma, we're super tight, so...

Knock knock. Who loves pizza?

This clue is huge.

In my mind, this blows this
whole thing right open.

And this was a group Murderhead effort.

I mean, I nudged them,
and then... voilà.

And I thought, "Who
should reel this fish in?

Team Mars." That's why I'm
givin' you guys first crack.

I saw you in the police chief's
office a few hours ago.

Okay. Look, that was my civic duty.

This? This is me havin' a shot

at a slice of that
quarter-million dollar reward.

What's the clue?

What's my cut?

We're not going to negotiate
without knowing the clue.

All right.

Big Dick Casablancas

has a Twitter feed called BigDickProps.

Five times

he has used the phrase "prostitute
oneself" in his tweets.

- That's weird, but what does it...
- The... note from the bomber

included that phrase.

You know how I know I'm onto something?


Because yesterday

I found a dead duck in my bed.

It's them telling me to back off.


about that cut.

My mom's all right.

She just thought my dad lacked ambition.

They wanted different things, I guess.

It happens.

I should go now. Thanks
for the square meal.


Logan, Matty. Matty, Logan.

- Hey there.
- Hi.

I was just on my way out.

Something I said?

- Bye.
- Bye.

That's the girl who lost her
dad in the Sea Sprite bombing.

That's her?

Yeah. Why?

Vinnie was in the Maloof suite today

telling Amalia that he thought
the motel owner's daughter

must have the missing ring.

Vinnie said he was gonna lean on her,

but her family was in
Paris for spring break.

Ugh. I'm gonna have to
pay Vinnie a visit.

Well, if that pisses you off,

then you don't want to know
what Amalia's paying him.

Three grand a day.

- Christ.
- Yeah.

Hey, I heard from my buddy at the base.

Sounds like he has a lead
on Maloof's blackmailer.

I'm gonna head down there tomorrow.

- You should lead with the good news.
- Mm.

So, what are you doing
tomorrow around 5:00?


Because Jane said she can see us then.

I must have missed the part

where I said I would
go see your therapist.

That word doesn't even sound right.

It's more like... talking to a friend.

I don't pay my friends.

I don't either. Insurance covers it.

But Jane thinks it would be
beneficial to our relationship

to see her together.

Logan, I admire your
dedication to self-discovery.

- You sure?
- Somewhat.

But I'm absolutely fine
with where I've landed.

Are you?

- Ohhh.
- You're crazy!

I'm gonna take a shower.


What's wrong with watching
TV and having sex?

That's therapy for me.

I'm gonna go see some naked ladies

and scare a buffoon! You wanna come?

You say somethin'?


No, no, I will not go to the
Champagne Room with you.

Do I have money? Yes.
I got a lot of money.

But I can tell by the pitter-patter
of your little footsteps

that you're a little
light in the caboose

and, uh, the ladies I take
to the Champagne Room

are a lot of things, but light in
the caboose is not one of 'em.

Oh. Hey, Veronica.

This place has a Champagne Room?

You know what?

It's that air of superiority,
that patronizing tone,

that has sparked a
political backlash, okay?

White men. We're not gonna
take it anymore, V-Chip.

Right, guys?

Uh, you run a business
out of a strip club.

I can't help but feel superior.

Also... yeah, the results
are in. I am superior.

We're at a titty bar.

That means I win.

So... heh heh... what do you want?

I am hereby issuing a restraining
order for Matty Ross.

You are to stay at least 200
feet away at all times,

or risk me doing something mean to you.

Okay, Katniss.


Uh, Veronica, you can't
use your phone in...

I know, I just need...

Put the phone away.

Put. The. Phone. Away.

- I heard you!
- Tried to tell ya.

How do you use this place as an office

if you can't use your phone?

I can use my phone.

By the way...

what you're charging the
Maloofs is an outrage.

Well, Mrs. Maloof let me know

what the number two P.I.
outfit in town was charging,

and I had to adjust my rates.

Plus all the up-charges.


Yeah. Photocopying, mileage,

trackin' down a couple of Mexicans.

What makes you think that Matty
knows where the ring is?

Well, process of elimination.

You know, I talked to everyone else

who woulda had a chance to take it,

and no one's seen it.

And then I was watching the
news coverage of that night,

and there's this girl... walkin'
through the crime scene,

bendin' down, pickin' up stuff.

Would you like a dance, Vinnie?

I would indeed.

Bye, Veronica.

The good ol' days,

it was wall-to-wall dicks
and chicks in here,

but now look at us.

You want a slice? It's Cho's
sweet and sour pork pizza.

I can't lie, I'm gonna
miss this in Chattanooga.

No, thanks.

You were telling me about
the accident last year.

Yeah. Mike, he was our brewmaster,

he comes in one day, starts tellin'
me that the boil kettle is ma...

that's this, um... here,
I'll just show ya.

Mike says it's makin' this crazy noise

and it's spittin' out
steam all over the place,

and he tells me to go get this wrench.

And he's real pissed off

'cause he says somebody's
messed with his tank.

So I go to get the wrench, and
that's when I hear the boom.

Um, the relief valve, that's this
little doohickey right here,

apparently it just blew,

and it killed Mike instantly.

Veronica Mars.

I'm a private investigator.

I'm looking into the recent
bombings here in Neptune.

I need to talk to Darren
Silva, Campbell Davis,

and Blake Long.

Yeah, sorry, they're not here.

Well, their cars are here.

So you can either take me to them

or count on the police receiving a
noise complaint about this house

every Saturday night for the next year.

The bombings?

What would I know about the bombings?

What happened that spring
break night three years ago

when your buddy Patrick Hatcher died?


I think you heard me.

What does that have to
do with these bombings?

It was an accident.

We were all shitfaced, and...

yeah, we all learned a valuable lesson.

You're not really a P. I. Who sent you?

Was it the Lambdas?

Hats off, Lambdas.

I'm a P. I., Mr. Davis.

Yeah, if you say so.

So what's your scam?

You gonna talk to me about
some uggo I took to bone town?

Tell me she's pregnant?

Is that necklace a... a camera there?

You suck, Lambdas!

They're domestic lagers,
they all taste the same.

Now pick one, turn around,

and talk to me about the
night Patrick Hatcher died.

Look, whoever you are,

my dad's a lawyer and he told
me not to talk to anyone.

So leave me the hell alone.

♪ 'Cause I'm high on forever ♪

♪ Always together ♪

♪ And I'm coming down ♪

♪ 'Cause it's starting to hurt ♪

♪ Starting to hurt ♪

Thank you, Neptune.

Something I can help you with?

Blake Long?

Yeah, that's me.

Got a minute?

Yeah. Sure. What's... What's up?

What can you tell me about

the night three years ago
when Patrick Hatcher died?


Get out. Now.


Little early for that.

Oh, but I finished my homework, Mom.

Ya see what I did there?
I called you Mom.

It's funny because my mom was
also a judgmental shrew.

Set up a trust fund for P. W.'s kid.

Use a Cayman account.
Enough to cover college.

P. W.?

Yeah. Perry Walsh.

I sure as shit know who P. W. is, Dick.

Leaving messages like this for me,

messages where you ask me
to set up a trust fund

for the kid of a guy suspected
of bombing a building

that we are desperate to buy,

is a very good way to
end up back in prison.

- That's why I used initials.
- What?!

A ten-year-old could figure that out.

Come on, Dick, we're suspects.

Pizza guy is announcing
that we're responsible.

Keith Mars is sniffin' around.

Every time his daughter looks at
me it's with spite in her eyes.

Hey, if you had supported the
plan in the first place,

it wouldn't have gone off the rails

and I never would have had to ask
Perry Walsh to do what he does.

Or you could have offered
Ross another million.

He would've sold you the Sea Sprite

and those four people
would still be alive.

Yeah, well, that would
have been overpaying,

and I never overpay.

Look, the bomb was supposed to go
off in the middle of the night.

It was just supposed to
be a warning to Sul Ross,

but, well, shit happens.

The internet went down
and... messed up the timer.

Don't judge me. It's not like
your hands are clean in all this.

Shit, I know you're the one
who got rid of Perry Walsh.

You know that?

What, you think I'm stupid?

Sarah, hi. Keith Mars.

Was hopin' to get a few
minutes with Big Dick.

Is he expecting you?

I was just in the neighborhood.

Mr. C, there's a Keith
Mars here to see you.

Without an appointment.

Show him in, Sarah.

Right this way.

Keith! Come on in!

Mr. Casablancas.

Clyde, hey! What a bonus.

- How are ya, young man?
- Pretty good.

What are you doin'
here, come down to see

about some new retail space?

Go ahead, have a seat.

I'll only take a minute.

But don't tell my client, because
it's gonna appear as an hour

- on the invoice.
- Your secret's safe with us.

Yeah, it's just, uh...

since that pizza guy
made that accusation

at the City Council meeting,

my client's been on me, "Have
ya checked out Casablancas?

Is it true he's buying up
all those properties?"

It's a load of horse shit, Keith,

- you know that.
- I know, that's what I told 'em.

I said, "Hey, he might
run off with your money,

but the man's not a killer."

- Hm.
- So here's what I came to ask.

- Shoot.
- Central Moon Limited.

Skyburst Resources Limited.

Pentalink Commercial Limited.

Those names mean anything to you?

Mm, nuh...

Those are all subsidiaries
of Team Casablancas Realty.

Oh, yeah. I thought
they sounded familiar.

LLCs are like ex-girlfriends.
There's too many to remember.

We had to face facts, Keith.

We have an image problem
at Team Casablancas.

Small business owners don't
wanna sell to this...

tall, tan, handsome,
Maserati-drivin' prick.

You know, Keith, one of those bombs
when off 50 yards from my son.

You tell your clients that.

Yeah, right. That's right.

The volleyball match.
Veronica was there.

- Yep.
- I'll tell them that.

This job...

sometimes I feel like I'm
prostituting myself.

But that should get
'em off this tangent.

Gentlemen, thanks for your time.

Hey, uh, Clyde here tells
me you've been seeing

some of our favorite doctors. Any news?

Another week or two, I should hear.

And truly, thank you for that.

You need anything, I'm your guy.

Oh, uh... did ya hear?

Pizza guy is telling people
he found a duck in his bed.

Seems the type.

Maybe he had it comin'.

You just connected us
to the shell companies.

Maybe you don't
understand the concept...

He knew, Dick.

He knew. That's why he asked.

He just wanted to see if you
were gonna lie about it.

What'd you do with him,
Veronica? Where is he?!

Are you asking, "Where in the
world is cabrón Juan Diego?"

You're not funny.

Weren't you worried about him
going to prison and getting shot?

He's safe now. You're welcome.

He's his family's main earner.

His mom's been on my
ass about lost income

ever since he disappeared.

She sounds like a lovely woman.

We can't all be like you.

Practically perfect in every way.

Sure you can. It's easy.

First, stop working on behalf of
the richest asshole in Neptune

in a plot to drive you and
your people out of town.

Sorry, does the truth hurt?

You need a spoonful of sugar
to make that medicine go down?

I wake up every day...

tryin' to figure out a way
to take care of my people.

But you? You've got degrees

from Stanford and Columbia

that you don't even use.

You'd rather stay in this
town that you say you hate,

tasing teenagers and makin'
'em wet their pants.

You had a wife and a daughter
and a legit business,

and you pissed it all away.

I got shot, Veronica.

Some rich white lady shot me

and I got arrested!

Yeah, that was shitty.

And I was there for you.

And so was my dad and so was Cliff.

But you were weak.

Just go. Get outta here.
Go be a low-level hood.

But know this: that is
how I'm gonna treat you.

And when you are run out of this town,

don't forget, I told you so.

Okay, Veronica.

Is this a bad time, or... ?

Go ahead. She's all yours.

I'm s-surprised you're here.

I didn't see your car outside.

Uh, Logan's using it.
What... What do you...

I was checking in, seeing
if you followed up

on that thing that I told you?

My dad hit Big Dick and Clyde with
the "prostitute yourself" clue,

and neither of them flinched.

Just means they were ready for it.

We're pretty certain they were
responsible for the duck,

but it's possible said
duck is just retribution

for standing up at a
City Council meeting

and calling 'em murderers.

I suppose.

But what can we do to help?

I mean, we have a stake in this now.

A five percent stake.

Well, that's a lot of pizza deliveries.

How are Murderheads at
deep background checks?

Deep background is where we excel.

Okay. You know the Hearst
fraternity Pi Sigma?

Yeah, but, ya know, Cho's Pizza
doesn't really deliver there anymore.

Lot of issues over the years.

All right. One of 'em
died at a beach party

three springs breaks ago.

I visited the three buddies
who were with him that night,

and they all clammed up.

Uh, what's the connection
to the spring break bomber?

I don't know. But they're
guilty of something.

Find out everything you can
about these three guys.

Consider it done.

You're kidding, right?

I break a shitload of government
regs, risk a court-martial,

for... milkshake money?

Re-gifted milkshake money at that.

- Hm.
- But I figured saving you

from certain death in
that firefight in Mukalla

was also worth something.


Name and address of your hacker.

Thanks for this, man.
Enjoy those shakes...

- Hm.
- ... and being alive.

Dude's name popped up
on neo-Nazi watch lists

and with the sorts of
pro-gun organizations

that think the NRA are a
bunch of libtard pussies.

So, if you're gonna pay
him a visit... be packin'.

Logan Echolls. I'm with the
Office of Naval Intelligence.

- Are you Barton Netherfield?
- Yeah.

We traced a suspicious IP address

- to this...
- Goddamnit!


So... how'd you pull it off?

- How'd I...
- Congressman Maloof.

You neutered that Muslim cuck.
You beat us to the punch.

That's just what we needed,
a Manchurian Candidate

taking his orders from the mullahs,

infiltrating the highest levels
of our government. Am I right?

Yes, sir.

So then, tell me. How'd you do it?

- Y-You're gonna laugh.
- Hm.

Three years ago my humanities
class took a trip to Suckramento

when Maloof was a state senator.

Dumb-ass had a sticky note on
his computer with the password.

You know what Maloof's into, right?

- He's a submissive.
- Hm.

Th-These girls make him grovel
before they'll even, like,

take off a glove.

"Please, please, please!"

H-He doesn't get to touch himself

until some 20-year-old Ukrainian girl

gives him permission.

Pathetic, right?

So, ever since I got recordings
of Maloof jerking it,

I've owned him.

Yes, I'm gonna pass on that five,

but while we're on the topic of numbers,

how do you feel about ten
years in prison, Junior?


I need you to erase every
recording you have,

every piece of code linked to Maloof.

Then you're gonna send him an
email saying you found Jesus,

you've seen the light and changed
your errant ways, hallelujah.

And I swear...

if you ever contact Maloof
again for any reason,

if he gets so much as a
two-star Yelp review,

I will drag you down to Guantanamo.

You think Maloof's clean?

Then why'd he transfer a ton of Bitcoin

into the accounts of these two?

I did some digging.

They're killers for a
Mexican drug cartel.

You were gone when I got up.

I went for a run.

You wanna talk about the other night?


Okay. So, I learned something today.

Finnish is derived from Russian?

No. Dogs have 42 teeth.

Your client, my employer,

paid two cartel hitmen a little
over $100,000 in Bitcoin.

- What?!
- I visited Maloof's blackmailer.

He's a 17-year-old white nationalist
living outside of Bakersfield.

He just explained to me at great length

that cryptocurrency is,
in fact, traceable.

These are the guys.

I saw this guy.

In the parking lot of
Weevil's body shop.

So what does it all mean?

No idea.

Oh. Vinnie said something
about Maloof hiring him

to find a couple of Mexican guys.

But why hitmen? And why the money?

Ya done good, kid.

- You might have a future in this racket.
- Hm.

- I definitely owe you one.
- I'd like to cash in now.

How 'bout...

you and me...

I'm liking it so far.

- Picture this. The two of us...
- Mm-hm.

... gettin' busy...

getting in touch with our feelings?

You're talking about couples therapy.


I mean, "Hangin' with Jane."

Hey. May I join you in
the cool kids room?

- I gotta get to work.
- Okay.

- See ya, Keith.
- Yeah.

Something wrong?

Nothin' a strip club can't fix.

Excuse me?

What? You're always saying

we don't do enough
father-daughter stuff.

I'm standing at the urinal,

and the guy three stalls down screams!

I rush over to help...

and it's goddamn Paul Ryan.

He was in a hurry to
get back for a vote...

Probably to kill health care.

... and he'd zipped too fast.

There's Something About Mary-style?

Yes. Indeed.

And that's how I got him to bring
my farm bill to the floor.

Wait a minute. Did you help him unzip?

Excuse me.

This is Logan.

Yes, sir.






Yes, sir. Thank you.

I'm sorry for how abrupt this is,

but I've been called
back to active duty.

I need to leave immediately.

- How long will you be gone?
- I never know.

But I'll make some calls in to my
security contacts before I deploy,

get the ball rollin' on my replacement.

That's a tough life, man.
Yanked away without warning?

Tough part is tellin' my girlfriend.

Thank you for everything, Logan.


Hey. Hang loose, bro.

That's gonna get old, Alex.


Mrs. Maloof. It's been a pleasure.





So you wanna know where
to find Los Desperados,

dos hombres peligrosos...

Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, Veronica.

Sin teléfono. No, no, no, no.

Put it down.

Los misteriosos mexicanos,
los chicos del sur...

I have a question for you,
though. I have one question.

¿Dónde está la biblioteca?

Ha ha ha ha ha ha. What's in it for me?

We'll rescind our ethics complaint

filed with the California
Board of Security

and Investigative Services.

Keith, I didn't even
know you were here. Hi.

I have not heard about such a complaint.


How about this.

We won't explain to Mrs. Maloof

that she is paying the highest rate

that any human being has ever
paid for investigative services.

Vinnie, where are the two Mexican
guys you found for the Maloofs?

Well, you drive a hard
bargain, Hot Mars.

Let's say Maloof's teenage
blackmailer is right

and Maloof did pay these two killers.

- Okay.
- What does that mean?

Well, if these guys arrived in Neptune

before the Sea Sprite explosion,

it means one thing...

That our congressman
client paid them to kill

his little brother's assumed
gold-digging fiancée Tawny Carr...

and pizza guy's a genius.

That's what I thought at first,

but these guys work for a cartel boss

who lost his nephew in the bombing.

That's too much of a coincidence.

So rival cartel wants to
send enemy a message,

hires these guys to kill
El Despiadado's loved one?

A nephew by marriage?

I guess they didn't want to
send a very strong message.

What if they came up after
the Sea Sprite bombing?

Then they're supposed
to kill the bomber.

They think it's Maloof.

Maloof buys them off? Possible.

We'll know more when we drop
by their hotel room tomorrow.


Logan, I'm home!

I'm back from a strip club!

Never touch me again! Men disgust me.


Hey, I got called in.


So I know things have been weird

since I asked you to marry me.

Confession: It wasn't so
much that I loved you

and wanted to spend the
rest of my life with you,

it's just that your dad
promised me his milking goat,

two bolts of Spanish silk,

and .1 acre on the alley
side of his estate.

No man could walk away from that.

Dowry or no dowry, I
still want to marry you.

Give it some thought while I'm away

and I'll Skype you as soon as I'm able.

I love you. Bye.



Excuse me.

I'm sorry to bother you,

but I'd like to see the seashell
exhibit this afternoon.

Can you point me in the right direction?


I can tell you how to get there
by bus, but... but I don't drive.

They can help you in the office, though.

Good luck.



- Ahhhh.
- Oh, my God.

Oh, my God, are you... are you okay?

- Help! Help!
- I'm calling 9-1-1.

There's a man having a heart
attack at the Happy Nite Lodge.

- The Happy Nite Lodge. Yes.
- Happy Nite Lodge?

- Uhh. Ohhh!
- Um, yes.

- Ohhh! Oh, my God!
- Yes, that's right.

Hey. Are you okay? Hey!

- Old man! Look at me!
- What? Yes!

I'm fine.

It's ju... Yahh.

Wooh! It's just a dizzy spell.

Just a dizzy spell.

Never mind.

I'll help him back to his room.

Sure hope you're not
on the second floor.

Is there someone in your room
who can take care of you?

My daughter is usually pretty helpful.


What happened?

Your Mexican boyfriend
tell you he's married?

Why you two such pigs?

Clean up after yourselves!

You'd think I was livin'
under her roof, huh?

I got fired, asshole!

What?! You been there for two years!

He fired Estella too, and she's
been there a lot longer.


There's no customers anymore.
Not with all the bombings.

Same thing all over town.

No one's hiring. Everyone's
letting people go.

Okay, okay, don't worry. Listen.

I'm makin' plenty of money right now.

I can take care of the family.
It's gonna be okay.

- What about Estella?
- Estella ain't family.

Why don't you hire me at your shop?

No. No way.

Look, it's like you said.

Everything ain't strictly legal.
It's not gonna work.

- I need the money, Eli.
- No. No.

I'm too old to have you supporting me.

Come in!

Oh. Alonzo.

Yo, what's up, man.

- Beer?
- Yeah, sure.

Claudia? Two beers. Please.

Yeah, I saw Eli's blonde
crush at the motel today.

The... Wh... Wh-What blonde crush?

Veronica Mars.

Oh. Oh, yeah, that's... that's my crush.

Just love her to death.

What was she doin' at the Happy Nite?

Pretty sure she was snooping
around Alonzo's room.

Who was in my room?

Cute blonde private eye. You
saw her at Weevil's shop.

You sure? Or you're pretty sure?

I-I'm not positive.

Some gimpy old bald
guy collapsed nearby,

and I was tryin' to help him, and...

Old bald guy with a limp?

- Yeah.
- That was her dad.

She was definitely in your room, man.


What are you gonna do?

I'm gonna pay her a visit at some point.

See what she wants.

I don't know what it says about me

that after I found out
Logan was gone again

for some undisclosed period of time,

the person I wanted to see,
share my frustration with,

was the same person I was spying on,

trying to determine whether
she was a murderer.

Tequila should do the trick.


... you have no idea when
you'll see him again?

Last time it was six weeks.

Sometimes it's a couple
days. You never know.

- Hm.
- Hm.

His therapist, Jane,

told him this story about
elephants in Mozambique

who have evolved without tusks so
that poachers don't hunt them.

Symbolic of... ?

Some shit about relationships
having to evolve

to eliminate the destructive
gene in their DNA.

So what's the destructive
gene in your relationship?

I think it might be me.

I think I'm the tusk.

No. I'm the poacher.

No. No, the tusk.

Oh, yeah, you're the tusk.

And I say that as someone
who's been gored.


Fancy finding you at Comrade Quacks.

I didn't know you tried to
pick up drunken college girls

when you got off duty.

Y'know, it's just been so
long since I've had a hobby,

but now let's just say that I know

all the names of the raunchy drinks.

- Barkeep!
- Yeah?

Let's get a Bend Over
Shirley, a Sex On My Face,

and I will have a Cocksucking Cowboy.

And make 'em doubles,
because we came to play.

- You got it.
- Hello, Leo.

- Hello.
- You two know each other?

Oh, yeah, we go way back.

He interviewed me about
the bomb in my toilet.

Yeah, I really got her to open up.

I know things about that toilet bomb

that no one on this planet has heard.

Yeah, your boy's good.

We're drinking. Veronica's
man ghosted her.

He didn't... H-He didn't
ghost me, he just...

Y'know, I-I-I-I don't care, okay?

I'm not Perez Hilton.
I'm a federal agent.

Now tell me everything you
found out about that tent fire

and Chattanooga Charlie's explosion.

I knew it. You left out those
folders for me to find

so I'd do free legwork for you?

I prefer to think of it as you
doing your patriotic duty.

Wait a minute. How did
you know I was here?

Happy accident.

I just come here for the buffalo
wings and funnel drinks.

You planted a tracker on my car?

All right.

The funnel drinks and the buffalo
wings, those were accidental.

The tracker was on purpose,
and I put it in your bag.

- Here are your drinks.
- Okay, here we go. Drink time.

- Ah. Yeah.
- There you go. Let's do it.


- Mm!
- Ladies... to booze.

To booze.

- To booze.
- To booze.

Excuse me. Sorry.

- Oh, wow. Wow.
- My bad.

♪ You've just got to be strong ♪

♪ Just stop, 'cause I really love you ♪

♪ Stop, I'll be thinkin'... ♪

I cheers to that. Yeah.

♪ And let love keep us together ♪

♪ Like it really rough guy ♪

♪ Just can't get enough guy ♪

♪ Chest always so puffed guy ♪

♪ I'm that bad type ♪

♪ Make your mama sad type ♪

♪ Make your girlfriend mad type ♪

♪ Might seduce your dad type ♪

♪ I'm the bad guy ♪

So then Walter tosses the
ringer out of the car

and makes the Dude take the wheel,

- and then he rolls out of the car...
- With an Uzi.

Yeah! Well, they're being chased
by nihilists on motorcycles.

I don't believe this is a real movie.

The Big Lebowski?

No, I believe The Big
Lebowski's a real movie,

I mean, I've seen
posters and everything,

but I just don't believe you've seen it.

I think you ate some magic mushrooms...

Okay. I am...

appalled that you haven't
seen The Big Lebowski.

And please don't take this personally,
but... you're dead to me.

Wouldn't be the first time.

I can't remember the last
time a boy walked me home.

Oh, we are a full-service FBI.

If you have any ironing you need done...

take this in, zee collar
is flippity-flap.

- I was tryin' to do a German accent.
- Was that it?

Aaah! Jesus Christ! What the hell!


Matty, this is Leo.

Leo, this is Matty, my protégée.


Okay, so... don't shoot her?

Good. The paperwork would take
all night. Uh, I'm gonna hit it.

You got me home safe.

- Wear that merit badge with pride.
- Okay.

So have I met all your boyfriends
now, or are there more?

I thought you declined my
invitation for lodging.

I guess you still have to
pay the electricity bills

even if you're the
orphaned teenaged owner

of a recently bombed two-star motel.

They cut your power?


Feel like singing a little
Motown into that spatula?


Me neither. I'm gonna go to bed.

Couch is yours.

There are blankets in the closet.

Never have children!

Come on, Alex. We can get a
quick workout in before lunch.

This is all the exercise I need.

- Yes?
- Mr. Maloof.

My name is Clarence Wiedman.

Logan Echolls left word you
needed a new bodyguard?

I appreciate you coming, Mr. Wiedman.

- Mm-hm.
- But truth is, I don't need a bodyguard.

- The threat has been, uh...
- Eliminated?

I wouldn't put it that way, but
we do seem to be out of danger.

I'm glad to hear it, Congressman.

And please send a bill for
your time to my office.

- That won't be necessary.
- Oh, I insist, I insist.

Look here.

It's your lucky day, Congressman.
You get to meet Allah.

Daniel! Daniel! Oh!

GSW. Possible pneumothorax.

Neptune Grand, eighth floor.

Daniel. Daniel.