iZombie (2015–…): Season 2, Episode 12 - Physician, Heal Thy Selfie - full transcript

LIV: Previously on iZombie...

You're really plowing
through your list.

MAN: The media's calling you
the Chaos Killer.

It says here you were slinging
for Stacey Boss.

PEYTON: He's my star witness
against Mr. Boss.

He's pretty much
the whole case.

LIV: He's dangerous,
stay away from him!

He tried to kill Major.
He turned me into a zombie.

I slept with him.

PEYTON: You know,
you sleep with someone,

you think you know.



But they could be anybody.

Everything Okay?

Yeah.

Just helping a friend.

Sorry I took so long.

Don't be sorry.

Watching you crawl back
into bed is not a bad thing.

(POP SONG PLAYING)

You never told me
how you got this.

That's a story for
another day.

Sorry.
I lost track of time.

Let me get off your bed.

Just a few more days
until my new place is ready,

and then I'll be
out of your way.



Don't be silly, we love
having you here.

Although, you do have a habit of picking
the marshmallows out of my cereal,

leaving me with a less-than-ideal
ratio of marshmallow to crunchy bits,

but, you know,
I'll let that slide...

Oh, no, Peyton.

What is it?

I screwed up at work.

Can I do anything?

I mean, because if you want
me to pick

every last marshmallow bear out
of that box for you... (KNOCKS)

I'll do it.

I think I need something
stronger.

When I was in college,
I had this professor,

and when he'd hand out
the Friday quiz,

he'd say, "Duck soup for
you, schweetheart.“

I think he thought it was easier
for me than everyone else.

But I was probably working
twice as hard.

Yeah, before you moved in, I
just assumed you were a femmebot

that plugged into a charging
station at night.

- Ah, I bust ass to make it look like that.
-(CLICKS TONGUE)

It turns out, I fail just
as epically as I succeed.

I don't know what happened
at work, but I promise,

the only opinion you need
to worry about is your own.

That's a pretty low
opinion right now.

Well, it shouldn't be.
You are formidable.

I mean, you're clever
and disciplined.

Hardly.

Those are just the
top tier qualities.

All right? You're also clearly
blessed with a hollow leg.

(GROANS)

On that note...

No, no. Don't go.

I must.

I know how this turns out.

It's like the shots contest
in Raiders of the Lost Ark.

You're Karen Allen and
I'm the fat Nepalese guy

that ends up
under the table.

Come on.
You can handle it.

I ever tell you
about my first case?

Any chance you can put
a little pep in your step?

The violent soundscape of
nature is making my ears bleed.

Birds chirping, leaves
rustling, gnats laying eggs.

Never start a land war
in Asia.

Don't go toe-to-toe with Peyton
Charles when drinking is involved.

- Why are we sprinting?
- Because I'm hungry.

I haven't eaten
anything lately.

I was afraid that
horny-librarian-brain

would lead
to poor life choices.

- And did it?
- Did it what?

Lead to any poor life
choices?

Liv, we're really going to
need your help with this one.

Nasty triple homicide.

Triple, you say?

Detective Babineaux!
Any comment?

Come on, Detective.
Give me something.

Press is going to have
a field day with this case.

Three unidentified males.

Most likely killed on a boat,
then washed up here.

Um, where are their heads?

I was hoping you
could tell me.

(THEME SONG PLAYING)

Cause of death might take
a while.

Cause of death appears
obvious.

The three victims were
decapitated post-mortem.

Oh.

The driver's licenses we found
on the bodies were fake.

We can probably assume the photos
are real, but the names are not.

Hoping you can work your magic,
Liv, help ID these guys.

Uh...

Looks like a no-brainer
to me, Liv.

I'll let you know
when I get something.

All right, the sooner
the better.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Uh, what are you planning to do about
your little vision predicament?

I don't know.
I can't think when I'm hungry.

Everything looks like
a cartoon sandwich.

Olivia Moore!

Let's see what's inside drawer
number one.

Today we're sending you
home with Madison Brenneck,

25 years old.

The victim of an ill-fated rendezvous
with a Seattle crass-town.

Bus driver said she never
even looked up from her phone.

She's only in our morgue because
she was killed on city property.

So, Madison comes complete
with wonderfully unremarkable,

non-murdery visions.

All the great taste,
none of the foul play.

(RAVI CLEARS THROAT)

Did you just post a picture of
what I assume is Madison Brenneck

wrapped in sushi rice on
your lnstagram account?

Hashtag "brain food“?

'Course I 'grammed it,
that fish was on fleek.

Oh, my God!
Why did I post that?

Why does anyone post
pictures of food?

(SIGHS) I think it's okay.

It just looks like
raw tuna.

Look, so, I did some digging.

Turns out our Madison was quite the
millennial social media maven.

Instagram, Facebook,
Tumblr.

She had over 600 Yelp reviews.

The day she died,
she tweeted 27 times.

-(TYPING ON PHONE)
- Liv, Liv.

"Devoured tuna roll."
Hashtag "Sushi obsessed.“

Hashtag "Covering my ass.“

You need to be careful not to
overshare on social media.

Anything zombie-related
is TMI.

Don't worry. I'm on my
chill hustle hundo-p.

My annoying millennial speak
knowledge ended with TMI,

so I have no idea what you
just said.

Liv, I'm serious.
Be careful.

(PHONE CHIMES)

"The struggle is real. Props
for the good looks. Boom."

-(MACHINE BEEPS)
- JANE: Ms. Charles?

Mr. Deaux is still waiting
to see you.

Thanks Jane.
You can send him in.

(DOOR OPENS)

You had me out there
a long time.

Jane and I really bonded.

I think she's handling
the change with grace.

What do you want?

Look, I don't know what
those cops told you,

but I had nothing to do with
those missing Seattleites.

A couple of the Chaos Killer's
victims called my business?

It doesn't mean anything.

Yeah, it's true, I didn't
mention my dad was a victim.

We haven't spoken in years.

I try to keep my info
dumps to the useful variety,

stay away from the irrelevant "daddy
never loved me" stories, you know?

That's quite a drink you're
making there.

It's for a friend.

She's dropping by to celebrate
my big decision.

I'm telling Baracus
everything.

And since they don't hand out gold
stars for sleeping with the Cl's,

I think I'm done here.

Don't tank your career
because of me.

You're too smart for that.
Come on.

We're doing important work.

I'm trying to wash
away some sins here.

What happened the other
night, it meant something.

It made me think that...

Oh, hello, Liv.
You know my guest.

He's the man who made you
what you are today.

Worlds collide.

I take it Peyton knows all
about Team Z.

Nobody calls it that.

Stop trying to make
Team Z a thing.

Blaine thinks he and I could
have something special.

Aww, he swiped right.

I'm sure that your Tinder photo
is hair-centric and flattering,

but how do you spin that bio?

“I'm a humble guy,
always down for a hike,

“or we could just murder
and chill.

"My fave slays are astronauts,
homeless teens and boyfriends."

For the record,

all you are to me

is a giant mistake.

(DOOR OPENS, CLOSES)

-(SIGHS)
- Oh. Celebratory selfie!

- Oh, uh, okay.
-(SHUTTER CLICKS)

Still no word from
Mr. Baracus.

I've been calling
him all day,

but you know how he likes to
work with the music cranked up.

I'll swing by his house
on the way home.

Did you just tweet
that photo of us?

Hashtag "friendship goals.“

Hashtag "booty had me
like what"?

Not cool?

- Uh, little weird.
-(CHUCKLES)

(SIGHS) Good thing you didn't
get my crime board in the shot.

Hashtag "go into hiding
because we are onto you.“

You're going to have to
update your board, Peyton.

Hal Connolly, Kareem
Jackson and Willy Fisher

washed up on the shore of
Lake Washington this morning.

Without their heads.

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

(DOORBELL RINGING)

I know, Ma. I'm listening and
you're absolutely right.

If you're gonna host mahjong,
the other ladies should step up

and bring refreshments.

Ma, I'm gonna have
to call you back.

Gotta hand it to Mr. Boss.

According to Yelp,
he's a very committed CPA.

Can I offer you a vatrushka?

Come on.

You've got a second
shot at life.

Indulge.

I'm good.

Well, there's your problem.

We wanted to know if you
recognized any of these men.

You love showing me
pictures.

No. I can't say that I do.

Isn't that you?

Standing with those
three guys?

At the funeral of Louis
Brandt, AKA "Cock-Eyed Lou?“

Oh, yeah, those guys.

You run into so many people
at funerals.

But isn't that guy with
the machete your nephew?

Ah, so it is!

He's an odd duck traipsing
around with that thing.

The mustache is new. Yeah. Have
these boys done something wrong?

Probably, but we didn't
get a chance to ask.

They washed up on the shore
of Lake Washington yesterday,

missing their heads.

I think we're done.

I have to call my sister.

Would you please
see yourselves out?

I'm sorry for your loss.

I don't think he's our guy.

He did seem pretty
rattled about his nephew.

Could be someone with a death wish wanted
to send Mr. Boss a serious message.

And we just delivered it.

You know, I know a guy.

When I was in Vice, I helped
him out of a couple of jams.

Let's track him down,
have a little chat.

Liv?

What does it mean if a guy
you're dating isn't on Facebook?

- I don't use Facebook. So, nothing?
- Hmm.

Or maybe he's married
with a bunch of kids.

(GROANING)

How you been, Tanner?

Got bedbugs.

So that sucks.

You look just like this doll
my little sister used to have.

We just found a trio of Mr.
Boss's guys, all decapitated.

Got us wondering if there was a new
player out there moving in on Boss.

Above my pay grade, man.

(SHUTTER CLICKS)

What's your Twitter handle,
Tanner?

Hashtag "real Cl's of Seattle,"
hashtag "riding the U-boat."

Sally Tiny Tears is
freaking me out, man.

I can't have people thinking
I'm tight with cops.

Then make it worth
her while not to post that.

I believe she is what they
call "a taste maker".

More of an online
influencer.

Okay, yeah,
there's a new player.

A mystery man
with a new product.

Lucky U.

It's the sickest Utopium
out there.

Totally uncut, insane high.

(HIGH-PITCH VOICE)
And cheap.

(TANNER CHUCKLES)

The bunk I'm slinging's got more steps
than Helen Keller in a corn maze.

(PHONE CHIMES)

Tell me more about this
mystery man.

It's like you don't know
what the word "mystery" means.

Hey, guys, Liv here.

So, today I am beyond excited
to do an unboxing video

of our latest haul
from Morgue-Tech.

Lots of fun stuff
in here, brain pans,

wrap-around cadaver
covers.

These are awesome because they come
with a super-cute document pouch.

A hundred and fifty-three people
watched you unpack a box?

How? Why?

Please tell me you're not
watching your own vlog.

What are you doing on
Seattle PD database?

Looking for
background info on Drake.

I feel like he might be
hiding something.

What kind of person doesn't
use Twitter or Facebook?

Only a lunatic.

How else would he disseminate
inspirational quotes and latte art?

Never mind.
Figured it out.

It's the kind of person sentenced
to 22 months in Monroe Correctional

for felony aggravated assault.

"Victim suffered an ocular fracture,
broken ribs, shattered femur.“

Oh, my God.

(PHONE VIBRATING)

It's him. What do I do?

Well, he's a zombie with anger
issues and a prison record.

As far as millennial breakup options
go, ghosting him gets my vote.

It's the smart move.

But I like him, Ravi.

You should eat.

And sleep.

(SCOFFS)

Look at this.

That is from the crime scene
at the McDonough estate,

one of the Chaos Killer's
most recent victims.

Pay attention
to the graffiti.

Now, look at this.

It's from the Baracus home.

The graffiti is different.

A lot about this crime
scene is different.

Including the fact that Baracus
doesn't fit the Chaos Killer's usual

"one-percenter demo.“

I don't think
it's the same perp.

Which makes sense because we've had
our friend Blaine under surveillance,

-so it wasn't him.
- Detective Babineaux?

What you got on
the triple decapitation?

People have a right
to know, et cetera, et cetera.

-(SIGHS) No comment.
- You're killing me.

A triple beheading, and the afternoon
edition still puts me below the fold?

What's a guy gotta do
to get a lead story?

Giving the killer a catchy
nickname probably helps.

DU CLARK:
"Vaughn Douche Clark.“

So original.

Here he comes.

Major. Come on in.

I was summoned.

Okay, here we go.
Watch this.

“Max Rager tastes like
the ass of a turtle

“swimming in a dirty river.“

I don't know why he does
this to himself.

Thank you, Sambulo21,
from Swaziland.

Boy, I just love this guy's comprehensive
knowledge of how turtle ass tastes.

Thanks for dropping by, Major.

You know our Security
Consultant, Janko?

Haven't had the pleasure.

Six years in Iraq.

Oh. Thanks for your service.

Well, he's a private
military contractor.

Ah.

He was in charge of
ass-kicking and name-taking,

and really doesn't like it
when I brag about him,

but he's such a good egg.

Unlike these haters here.

Max Rager has over three
million Twitter followers.

Why obsess over the trolls?

No troll left behind,
Rita, my dear.

Nobody should slip
through the cracks.

Isn't that right, Major?

Yeah, I guess.

So, why is it a man
you told me is not a zombie

gets taken out by
the Chaos Killer?

We're... (SIGHS)
What's the word?

Concerned.

Okay, I mean, you're really
underselling it, but whatevs.

So, the question is,

what the hell is going
on here, Major?

I'm as confused as anyone.

I mean, it looks like someone
else wanted Baracus gone,

and they stole my MO to do it.

But I checked Baracus,
he wasn't a zombie.

Interesting.

Because his credit report
tells us otherwise.

$700 at Spice Mountain,

ghost pepper hot sauce from India,
weekly spray tans and salon dye jobs.

Suspicious,
don't you think?

Sounds pretty undead to me.

Or just as likely
metrosexual foodie.

I'm going to be so upset if
you're not telling me the truth.

And I don't get mad, Major.

You get even?

Oh, God, no. No, no, no.
Where's the fun there? No.

I get even with interest.

I embrace the Chicago way.

Someone pulls a knife,
I pull a gun.

Someone sends one of mine
to the hospital,

- I send...
- I got it.

Do you got it, Major?
Do you?

Don't just say the words.
Reflect on their meanings.

Take these Internet
trolls, for instance,

who say the most hurtful
things about this company,

which I built
from the ground up.

So, someone sends
a mean tweet, you...

Don't know, yet.

But there's definitely gonna
be some escalation.

Hey, why don't we send him some really
embarrassing magazine subscriptions, huh?

Chub Hub.
Or Bathhouse Monthly.

Or, wait. What's that really
freaky one you like?

Slow Torture and Gardens?

So, which one should we
go after first, Major? Huh?

Which one of these
rat bastards gets his?

Uh...

Trickster107.

Trickster107, from Bangkok, who
tweeted to his 14 followers

that he thinks our product caused
his father's heart attack.

Oh, game on, pal.
(CLAPS)

Your shift is over.
Go.

- Be free!
- Just one last thing.

"Real talk? Your sandwich artist was
chugging some serious haterade today.

"No eye contact?
Am I a leper?

"Also, where's the
made-from-scratch sriracha?

“The artisanal pickles?“
One star.

A bit harsh for Bernie's
Sub Shack, don't you think?

We eat there twice a week.

Hashtag "sorry, not sorry.“

Oh, hello there.

What's up, Ravi? Liv.

Uh, I'll just wander off
or something...

Haven't heard from you.
What happened?

Sex-starved-Librarian brain wear
off and you've lost interest?

Oh, no, I've just had a crazy
day at work, lots of murders.

Yet you had time to
tweet 17 times today.

“Pumpkin spice latte,
yay!

"Stop lights, boo!
Wow, Seattle, cloudy much?"

That's a lot of time
reading tweets

for a guy who claims
he doesn't use Twitter,

or who spent two years
in prison.

(SIGHS) That...

Doing a little digging, huh?

Do I get to explain
myself,

or do you think you know everything
you need to know about me?

I don't know anything.

My clad split, my mom had a
string of loser boyfriends.

The worst was this mean
drunk named Frank.

So, I'm 19.

I come home and my mom's eye
is swollen shut.

Blood down
the front of her shirt.

Frank's just sitting in front of the
TV with his hands in his shorts,

calling out for another beer
like nothing happened.

And I just snapped.
Went after him.

He pulled a knife,
that's how I got this.

The prosecutor said
I went a bit overboard,

because Frank
still can't walk.

Or feed himself.

I'm glad you told me.

Well, I usually wait until
date five or six to spring

the whole ex-con thing
on a girl.

So, give me another shot?

Let me take you to dinner.

- I'd like that.
-(PHONE VIBRATES)

Hold on.

(SIGHS) I am so sorry,
can we reschedule?

My mom's kitchen sink
is leaking.

Which I know doesn't
sound like an emergency,

but if I don't handle it,
she'll call 911.

BuzzFeed teaches us that when a
man abruptly change his plans,

it means he's up to no good.

I'm happy for you to join me, but
my mom, she's a bit of a trip.

I can handle it.

What's going on
with your skin there?

Anemia or some kind
of sun allergy?

Ma!
What did we talk about?

Roll it around inside
your head first, test it out.

I'm fine.

(BOTH CHUCKLE)

She's got the coloring
of a paper towel,

but I'm not supposed
to say anything.

(SIGHS) I'm sorry.

She tends to say the first
thing that pops into her head.

Hey, you know what?

I took a couple of cosmetology
classes at the community college.

I could give you
a little makeover!

She's beautiful, Ma!

Yeah, so is the sun, but you
can't stare directly at it.

What do you say?

Why not?

Oh. good!

Listen, let me go get
my makeup caboodle,

and I'll be back in a jiffy!

If I were you,
I'd make a run for it.

We'll be starting the service
in just a few minutes.

I'd like to invite you to make
your way into the chapel.

Excuse me,
we'll be starting...

The, uh...

We'll be doing the, um...

Service?

Yes, thank you.

The service.
In the chapel.

Thank you.

Okay, press your tongues
to the roof of your mouths.

You know, we don't want
any waddles.

And smile.

Good!

If you post that,
you have to tag me in it.

I don't know what that
means, honey.

Uh, let me see if I can find Nutter
butter, get a pic with him, too,

for next year's
Christmas card.

Ma, we're not taking a picture
with the cat. We gotta get going.

But thank you again
for the sweater. I love it.

Well, listen, before you go, I
want to give you those vouchers

for the Wicked Winter
Renaissance Faire! Huh?

All right, where to
for dinner?

-somewhere dark.
-(BOTH CHUCKLE)

(INSTRUMENTAL MUSIC PLAYING)

MR. BOSS: Mozart?

Debussy.

(SIGHS) So close.

Come on, Blaine.

Don't look so surprised.

I never forget a face.

I'm surprised you
remember me.

The owner of a major league team
usually doesn't remember the batboy.

The good owners do.

And you were more
than a batboy.

You were an intriguing AA prospect
likely to play in the bigs.

Had I known.

But it looks like you've
done well for yourself here.

This place must've cost
a pretty penny.

Who prepares your taxes?

I've got a guy.

Oh, a guy-

I hear he's good.

You know, as a small
business owner yourself,

you probably know when
an employee leaves his job,

two weeks' notice is standard.

About that, um...

I saw things at that
boat party.

Things that still haunt me.

I spent a couple weeks
shivering in a dark room,

and I decided it was a sign
that I needed a change.

A sign, huh?

You think God was so desperate
for you to change your ways

that he slaughtered all those
innocent people to make a point?

Well, we're talking about
the same guy that thought

Noah's Ark
was a solid plan, so...

Given the circumstances, I'm inclined
to let the lack of proper notice slide.

Thank you?

But when you left my employ,
you had in your possession

$4,000 worth of product.

That sounds about right.

- Let me get my checkbook.
- Hold on.

The, uh, calculator app
on this thing...

How did we function before?

Uh, 4K, plus the vig,
calculated weekly.

We'll round to 100 weeks.

Which means you owe me
just north of 80 grand.

But let's say 5K
every two weeks?

I'll send my boys over
to collect.

That sounds fair.

I should be getting back
to my nephew's service.

You done good, kid.

Shh.

Is your breakfast not
using its indoor voice?

Snap, crackle, pop.

So loud.

Drinking on a school night
again with Peyton.

You're a disgrace to your country's
proud history of functional lushes.

Break in the case.

Got a call from the owner
of a local marina.

A strange boat was
docked there.

He pulled up the cover, and the inside
of the boat was drenched in blood.

I'm guessing that's where our
vics and their heads parted ways.

Lucky them.

Dope.
Let's dip up out of here.

(CAMERA CLICKING)

MAN: Customer that rents this slip
was having his boat repaired.

Showed up today to dock it, and
found this one in his space.

Me and my son pulled
the tarp off, and yowzah.

But you didn't see who
docked the boat?

No, my son was working
that day.

Charlie!

Hey! I'm about to dump
that thing in the lake.

Huh?

Kids and their phones.

You'll understand what I mean
some day.

No, I think I get it now.

Charlie, you remember anything about
the guy who docked this boat?

I didn't get a good look at him,
but I saw him get in a taxi.

You know which
taxi company'?

(TYPING ON PHONE)

Charlie! Answer the man!

Dad, God!
It was green and white.

I was googling "green and white
Seattle taxis" to see which...

That's Supreme Taxi.

I'll get ahold
of the dispatcher.

No way.

Guess whose cabin this is.

District Attorney
Floyd Baracus.

Still warm.

Baracus was here recently.

Dale was right.

The Baracus abduction wasn't
the Chaos Killer.

It was Boss's goons trying to make
it look like the Chaos Killer.

I'm assuming Boss sent them to thank Baracus
in person for all those indictments.

But I just don't get it.

How does a middle-aged lawyer
take out three armed hitmen?

What do you see?

What?

You were having a vision,
right?

No, God, sorry.
I, uh, spaced out.

No visions?

I think the radiation from your cell phone
is giving your third eye cataracts.

Don't hate 'cause
you can't relate.

(GASPS)

How's this for a vision?

I guess the man of the hour didn't
stick around to explain himself.

Searched the property.
No sign of Baracus.

But a neighbor told us the motorcycle
that's usually parked out front is gone.

Run down the plate
and put out an APB.

Yes, sir.

LIV: A zombie wouldn't leave
behind his only food supply.

Those brains are the DA's incentive
to find a very good hiding spot.

(WHISPERS) Baracus?

Hey!
Everything Okay?

Seattle's missing district
attorney is a zombie,

and he's currently hiding out in
the crawlspace under his cabin.

Can I take this?

I believe you just did.

Oh, wait. I thought he was
abducted by the Chaos Killer.

No.
Three of Mr. Boss' hitmen.

They did up his place
Chaos Killer-style.

Big mistake abducting
a zombie.

We just found their heads
in Baracus' fridge.

I'm going to take the
poor guy some brains.

See if I can figure out a way
to help him out of this mess.

I'll go with you.

Thanks, but I got this.

Liv. Think about it.

You're going to a cabin where
there's a desperate zombie

who just decapitated
three men?

It's not safe.

It's not safe
for a non-zombie.

Floyd?

I brought brains.

Hi.
I'm Olivia Moore.

We've actually met before, I'm
Peyton Charles' best friend.

How did you know?

About me. What I am.

You have 40 varieties of hot sauce
and three heads in the fridge.

I snapped their necks
like it was nothing.

I knew I was going to need
those brains,

and one of them
had a machete, so...

Three heads
in the refrigerator.

I can't resurface after this.

I'm an undead man
walking.

Either Mr. Boss or the police
will find me.

And I don't see any scenario where
I ever get to see my son again.

We'll figure something out.

Man, you work up the nerve to resign,
and your boss gets abducted.

Bananas! I'm...
I'm still quitting though.

Well, no sense in moving until
your employment's sorted.

You don't mind me staying
in your hair a little longer?

I do mind. Yeah, you know... But Nietzsche
taught us that to live is to suffer.

-(SCREAMING ON TV)
- Mmm. Drink!

We're drinking every time one of
the Zombie High kids screams.

Oh, I've seen the show. I'm
not sure that's the best...

Look, I know one thing.

If I ever was turned
into a zombie,

my first order of business
would be to scratch you.

I'd be like,
"Oh, man! I'm a zombie.“

Scratch!

Seems a little self-serving,
but okay.

No way am I doing this whole
zombie thing without you.

-(SCREAMING ON TV)
- Drink!

-Mmm!
-(SIGHS)

LIV: Like I told you,

when you're playing
drinking games with Peyton,

all you'll walk away with is a
"thanks for participating“ ribbon.

A tiny man with a jackhammer has
taken up residence in my skull.

And yet, I'll bet Peyton still made it
to 6:00 a.m. spin class, didn't she?

Big deal. I've been
spinning since 4:30.

After seeing Baracus, I'm worried Mr.
Boss'Il come after Peyton next.

No, that's problem solved.

Peyton emailed a letter of
resignation to the Mayor last night.

I feel so bad for her.

This is everything she's worked
for, but it's probably best.

If you saw Baracus, that is one
zombie with no good options.

Whoa!
Morning, stranger.

Yeah, guess I'm the one who
hasn't been around much lately.

New guy.

Rent check's on the table.

I'll see you when
I need more clothes.

Oh, I'm going to need more of these
boxes, a couple more at least, thanks.

(SIGHS) Mayor Davis.

No.

No, what?

No, I do not accept
your resignation.

You see the front page
of the Observer today?

This. This headline means you
can't resign.

This headline means we have to
take down Mr. Boss.

If we don't,
it means he owns Seattle.

It means the bad guys win.

Now, never mind that it says
that a young woman of talent

got out when
things went south.

Are you the woman I think
you are, Peyton Charles?

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

♪ Nice girls
Not one with a defect

♪ Cellophane shrink-wrapped
So correct ♪

Nice hearse.
It's real inconspicuous.

It was either this
or the Zamboni.

For services rendered.

You catch the Mayor's
press conference?

She's going hard
at Mr. Boss.

You got exactly
what you wanted.

Thus the brains.

I risked a 20-year
career running that story.

I invented sources,
I pulled quotes out of my ass.

If it helps you sleep,

every word was true.

So, a doughy
40-something man

gets abducted by a trio
of experienced killers.

He's taken aboard a boat where
he's supposed to meet his fate.

What should happen
in this situation?

Hmm? Nothing?

I know!

Doughy 40-something man

is supposed to end up dead.

The three experienced killers

do not get beheaded.

- Unless...
- I know this one, too!

- He's a zombie.
-(SNAPS FINGERS)

But that should
not be possible,

because our zombie
hunter swore to me

that the District Attorney
walked among the living.

And now I don't know
what to believe.

How many zombies have
slipped through the cracks?

Should I have Janko here go through
the list with much less discretion?

The night I zombie-checked
Baracus,

his kid came running up
to him,

this five-year-old boy throwing
his arms around his clad.

And I couldn't. I couldn't
take him from his kid.

But that is the only time
I have ever skipped a zombie.

You have my word.

You do respect me, Major,
don't you?

Of course.

And you are aware that

when I want something
to happen, it...

It generally happens.

I don't doubt that.

Well, why don't we check in
on your friend in Bangkok?

Trickster107.
The one you hand-picked.

Let's see what he's
been up to.

-(MOUSE CLICKING) - Okay, what
file am I looking at here?

- YouTube, watch history.
- Okay, here we are.

And...

Oh... Ah! Oh. Oh.

Looks like he's had
something of a bad day.

Yeah, that's Thai for
"pool of his own blood."

Yeah. I don't think he's going
to be thumbing through

any of those
magazine subscriptions.

Wonder if he had any
adorable rugrats.

Max Rager is a global
brand, Major.

We are everywhere.

Like Starbucks.

Or the Eye of Sauron.

Tell you what, I can tell you're
not comfortable with taking lives,

so I'm going to make
things easier for you.

You can save them instead.

Each day, one of those rat bastards trolling
us is going to have a similar accident

until I get proof that you've sent
Floyd Baracus to his watery grave.

Oh, yeah. We know.

So, it's time to play
whack-a-zombie.

But if you're not sure which hole
Baracus is in, ask Liv Moore.

We know she knows.

(POP SONG PLAYING)

(CLATTERING)

(INAUDIBLE)

Hey!
What have you got for us?

Twenty-two-year-old male
corner boy.

Executed for selling on
the wrong corner.

Throat slip.
A Mr. Boss special.

Pocketful of Utopium.

This must be Lucky U.

Sold by
Mr. Boss' competition.

What dumbass thought that moving in on Mr.
Boss would be a good idea?

Clive?

Something wrong?

Last night, Floyd Baracus
took his own life.

Jumped off the Aurora Bridge.

Left his shoes, wallet and a suicide note.
I thought you'd want to know.

What did the note say?

Mainly a bunch of sweet
stuff to his son.

“I'll see you again someday.“
That sort of thing.

We're gonna drag the lake, but as of
now, the case is officially closed.

Uh... You're packed up.

Yeah, I decided not to
quit my job.

(SIGHS) I wish you would.

Uh...

I just stood next to parents who came
in to identify their 22-year-old son.

All right? Stacey Boss
didn't slit the kid's throat,

but he might as well have.

He's already gone after
one district attorney.

Let somebody I'm less fond
of risk his life.

And if I do that,
what does it make me?

All right, fine.

You've got the right stuff.

But stay here.

You know, you'll have two men
living with you,

one's practically a Greek god,

who's turned his body
into a finely-tuned weapon,

and, of course, Major.

And either of us would do
anything for you.

My new place has a 24-hour
doorman and a hot tub.

The Major will serve
as our doorman.

All right? He's great
with doors.

The opening.
The closing.

And I will make sure that
your tub time's hot as hell.

Mmm...

You're the best.

You know, for the record, I'd
be very sad to see you go.

My liver, on the other hand,
is like, "Good riddance.“

- Uh, do you need help with the...
- No. No.

Thanks, Ravi.

For everything.

Uh...

(CLEARS THROAT)

- Aw, crap.
- Flip it, flip it, flip it!

-(LAUGHS)
-(KNOCKING on DOOR)

You expecting someone?

No.

Yo, my boy here?

WOMAN: This is the Lucky U?

That's all we carry,
honey.

(GASPS)

Don E.
You don't show up here.

Then don't ignore my texts.

Some people don't have the common
courtesy to die during business hours.

- We gotta roll.
- I'm sorry.

I'll be back as soon as I can.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Blaine is the new player.