iZombie (2015–…): Season 2, Episode 5 - Love & Basketball - full transcript

Previously on iZombie...

Gabriel cut the utopium the night of the boat party.

Tell me what you cut the Utopium with, and I will cure you.

This is FBI Agent Dale Bozzio.

She'll be looking into a string of missing person cases.

Check a few zombie souls off your little list, like a good boy.

Major? This dude was trying to keep us off drugs!

I need help.

- What are we doing? - Well, it's hard to put a label on it just yet.

But I'll get back to you in a minute.

We should stop.



We don't know enough about how zombie is transferred.

All this kissing.

I've been kissed by blonde Liv before.

Still human.

But that wasn't as prolonged and there were no tongues involved.

Do you have any open sores in your mouth?

Sexy.

How hard have you been brushing your teeth?

So hard.

That's it.

Kissing moratorium until we're sure

I didn't just turn you into a zombie.

So, we're going the Pretty Woman no-kissing-on-the-mouth route.

- I'm down. - Oh, my God.



Horny boys are the worst. When all your blood returns

to the normal locations in your body,

you're going to care whether that make-out session

has left you living or living dead.

...on the drive.

Left-handed lay-up! No good!

Hey. What you got there, mister...

He shoots!

He scores!

- How are you feeling? - Great.

Who doesn't enjoy waking up to a beautiful woman cutting off his circulation?

Pulse seems normal. Pallor's okay.

BP's 116 over 77.

No alarm bells yet, but the truest test,

coffee.

Is that look of disgust because you need cream and sugar,

or because you need habanero?

It's because you're still incapable

of turning hot water and coffee grounds into a palatable beverage.

Liv, relax.

I'd know if I turned into a zombie.

- I didn't. - We got lucky.

That's not how I remember it.

I'll rephrase. We dodged a bullet.

You know what I keep asking myself?

Why, why didn't the Seahawks just give the ball to Marshawn?

How stupid must we be?

Unless there's a cure, we have no future as a couple.

- You're sure about that? - Well, think about it.

You've always wanted kids. That could never happen.

No sex.

Clearly you're not ready to write that off.

I seem to recall a couple items on the menu

that don't involve the exchange of fluids.

I could be holding your arm, walking down an icy sidewalk.

I slip, I reach out for you, I scratch you, instant zombie.

So far, to me, it sounds like

all of our problems could be solved with condoms and rock salt.

But you came over here because you needed help.

We were best friends.

Let's be that again.

It's Ravi. We've got a body. Sorry.

I'll check in with you later. Okay? Friends.

Friends.

Mike Hayden, night security guard.

Shot through the heart.

And who's to blame?

No Bon Jovi fans here.

After hours visitor log, last page torn out.

Security cameras were turned off just before the murder.

It's a password-protected system.

Only one person could've accessed it last night.

- Our victim. - So, what?

He turned the cameras off, so his killer couldn't be identified?

Think of how easy it would be if there was a video footage.

And the killer could've been wearing a T-shirt

that inexplicably had his name and address written across his chest.

And the address was, like, right next to the police station.

And the killer's just waiting calmly, already handcuffed,

just, sort of, reciting his Miranda rights to himself.

That would be so great! Now what're we going to do?

Guess we earn our paychecks.

My mom always wanted things just so.

- The right flowers, the right stationary... - Relax.

Every single detail will be up to your mother's exacting standards.

My undertaker.

He's Finnish.

If you'll excuse me for a moment.

We have an employee's entrance.

I'll cut the Utopium for you

the same way I cut it for the boat party,

but I want the cure you said it would lead to.

God gives me strength, I won't eat brains.

Corinthians?

Never mind. Don't care. Walk this way.

Night watchman brain.

Wonder what fresh hell this is going to be.

In cricket, a night watchman is a lower-order batsman

moved up in an effort to maintain the strike

till the end...

Funny girl.

So, we have Unis identifying and interviewing

everyone who appeared in the security footage

before Mike turned the cameras off.

We've got three people who came in last night

who don't seem to work in the building, who no one can ID.

Thought we might get lucky with your third eye.

Sure.

Nope.

Nope.

Nope.

Sorry, my third eye is a little unfocused.

I skipped breakfast.

All right. Let me know if you get anything.

Will do.

Oh, my God.

Nothing more primal than a zombie craving brains.

It's like watching my mother try to refold a map.

The cane is right there. It's right there!

This is what I'm telling you.

This is as far as I can go with these mindless shamblers.

Now, if we're going to make any real headway

with the Super Max recipe,

we need the DNA of a coherent, intelligent, functional zombie.

You live with a functional zombie.

Can you get me some of her blood?

Are you thinking she keeps a vial of it in her makeup drawer,

or are you expecting me to shiv her?

A drop will suffice. However you think best.

We've got a zombie exterminator working for us.

Why don't I just ask him to bring us some?

Whichever puts the sample in my hand first.

I'm sorry, Mrs. Suzuki. I didn't mean to imply...

Hello?

Came to take another look at those photos.

Clear eyes, full stomachs, can't lose.

I think I just did something stupid.

Yeah?

I called Suzuki's widow.

Asked if her hero husband might've been suicidal,

when he shot up Meat Cute.

Whatever.

Any luck?

Still bubkis.

You're a Knicks fan?

Yes. I've had this mug as long as you've known me.

You're just now realizing I'm a fan?

I'm just impressed you broadcast it.

Nice job using your lottery pick this year on Kristaps Porzingis.

Darko Milicic.

We're really talking basketball now?

I caught you trying to put paperclips in here a couple of weeks ago.

You thought it was for knick knacks.

And Porzingis is built for the triangle.

Yeah, implementing that motion offense with Carmelo,

the biggest ball-stopper in the league on your team,

what could go wrong?

Can I help you fellas?

Are you investigating Mike Hayden's murder?

We are. What can we do for you?

He was our basketball coach.

Basketball coach. That makes sense.

We think we know who killed him.

Mr. Hayden was your coach?

Past three years. He was the best.

Who do you think killed him?

RJ's meathead dad.

Is one of you RJ?

RJ quit a few weeks ago,

after his dad tried to choke coach.

Who chokes someone at basketball practice?

Well, Latrell Sprewell does.

- A Knick, wasn't he? - Not at the time.

So? You guys going to arrest this dude or what?

Hey, we'll talk to RJ's dad.

Does Washington have the death penalty?

- It does. - Good.

You got to point your heel at the target.

Pivot on the ball of your foot.

- Who the hell are you? - TJ Ryan?

Seattle P.D.

We're investigating the murder of Mike Hayden,

your son's former basketball coach.

RJ's off getting spoiled by his mom.

I've got him every second weekend.

We're here to talk to you, actually.

Thought maybe you could explain why you choked Mr. Hayden.

Who told you I choked him?

Was it that fairy,

what's his face, from Child Protective Services?

Was it? Huh? Was it?

You got something to say about the way I raise my kid,

you say it to me!

Or was it my kid?

Because that mama's boy needs a serious lesson

in keeping his mouth shut.

Hey, blondie, I asked you a question.

When I talk, you listen. You hear me?

- Don't ignore me, woman. - Step back, sir.

Can you tell me where you were last night at midnight?

The Public Library.

My whole softball team was with me.

Right. You and the boys were hosting a discussion

of the latest Danielle Steele novel.

It's a tavern on Fourth.

Okay, that's easier to imagine.

I'm going to need a list of teammates.

- The choking incident. - Yeah?

It wasn't over playing time.

Coach Mike reported TJ to Child Protective Services.

- I'll see if they can tell us, why. - No need, I saw that too.

He hits his kid, Clive.

I'm afraid that's the kind of lesson he has in store for RJ.

All right, well,

if you're feeling frisky, we can always ramp it up on the treadmill.

Lord, that Ri.

That girl is a walking visit from H.R.

Why don't you go ahead and get changed? I'll set up.

Good news is you're not dead.

Bad news is you have to come up with some other excuse

for not responding to my text.

Yeah, well, I didn't get it until this morning.

But it did make my heart flutter.

"U up?" You stole my heart in those three characters.

Whatever.

You have to earn me spelling out words in their entirety.

So, how many zombie removals can I put you down for this week?

I don't know.

How many people are you going to murder this week?

Not people.

Zombies.

How about we shoot for two?

Go big or go home, I say.

No, I'm not doing any, until I get a more potent tranquilizer.

All right? The last guy woke up in my trunk.

Well, they can't all go smoothly.

Where's the fun in that?

Fine.

Let me see what I can do.

Swing by my office when you're done here.

Zombie killer.

Qu'est-ce que c'est?

You get what I need?

Is this him?

Indeed it is. Major, this is our head of R&D.

As far as you know, her name is Dr. Erving.

Then, as far as I know, can her first name be Julius?

I was told you needed a stronger sedative,

but I'm afraid I need a few more details.

In what way did it fail?

I understand the zombie was disposed of.

He woke up in my trunk, on the way to being disposed of.

How do you know he woke up?

He started begging for me to spare his life.

Hmm! Remarkable. And was he intelligible?

Or was it more like moaning?

More like a...

He said, Please don't kill me.

He told me that he cares for his aging parents, and they need him.

And when he became convinced he wasn't going to survive the night,

he asked me to take care of his dog.

Well, I'm surprised he was so lucid.

Yeah. Me, too.

What the hell, Lilywhite?

It's 7:45 P.M. Are you 90?

Rough day is all.

I'm going to remind you of something, son,

something you already know.

The world ain't all dilly bars and deputon balls.

The world throws wicked punches.

It wants to see who goes down easy.

Some people stay on the mat.

Not you, though.

You were an undersized walk-on free safety at U-Dub.

Three years later you were a starter.

It takes a tough, get-back-off-the-mat son-of-a-bitch to do that.

But that ain't what impressed me.

I fell in love with the guy

who could've cashed in on his looks,

his connections, his notoriety,

but instead, he said, I've been blessed,

and I want to give back.

I'm going to be a social worker.

I'm going to be the guy who helps others get back up.

I know you've taken some haymakers lately.

I know that this time it's harder to get back up

than it's ever been.

But you're Major mother-flipping Lilywhite,

and you don't quit.

God, you're so weird.

Open a window, it reeks in here.

Shower, for god's sakes, and clean this mess up.

And, Lilywhite, there still any Utopium in here?

The answer better be, not in my house.

There's not.

Not in my house.

- Speak up, son! - Not in my house.

Good.

I'll meet you downstairs when you're done.

We can watch Hoosiers.

After all these years?

You've always refused before.

Well, back then, I was worried

that seeing you cry over fictional sports

would adversely affect my sexual desire for you.

But that's not an issue anymore, friend.

- Your tire's on my lawn, man. - Bill me.

What're you doing here? I know my alibi checked out.

- Yeah, it did. - Then what?

Just a warning. I talked to your son's homeroom teacher,

gave her my card,

told her to call me if RJ had any accidents, or falls,

if the part in his hair looked crooked.

You've got some balls, man.

Showing up at my house,

telling me how to raise my kid.

So how about you get back in your car...

Don't ever put your hands on your son again.

Hey, Cavanaugh, what's Funders Keepers?

No clue.

Babineaux.

A word.

You know why you're in here?

Yeah.

And I know I shouldn't have done it, but...

If you know,

then why am I getting calls from grieving widows?

Please, tell me you did not imply

to Suzuki's wife that her husband shot himself.

Well, there are still some things about that case

that don't add up.

Who asked you to add anything up?

What I do remember

is assigning you to the security guard homicide.

And I'm on it, Lieutenant.

It's just,

the forensic evidence at Meat Cute

suggests there was at least one other shooter.

And we never found this Blaine.

I'm familiar with the case, Clive.

I'm the one who pulled you off!

Is something funny?

I'm sorry.

Cavanaugh sent me this Vine.

A cat walking on two legs.

I'll give you this.

You're taking this friends thing seriously.

I thought the friendship offer was just something girls say

when they don't want to see you naked.

Like you've heard a lot of that?

No, but I've read about it.

Seriously, though, Hoosiers last night,

playing hoops today, what're we going to do tomorrow?

We should eat some chicken wings.

Maybe talk about whether or not the movie Casino was any good?

You may be busy tomorrow.

Liv, what are we doing here?

You mean, with this ragtag group of disadvantaged kids

who tragically lost their coach a few days ago?

Did I forget to mention they'd be here?

Okay, I see what you're trying to do.

Well, I'm not being subtle.

Is this the guy?

Well?

Keep your head up, Jaylen.

Nice pass.

Move your feet, Joey!

This is basketball, not bullfighting. Come on, pick it up now!

- Okay, Johnny, find the open man! - Back-screen!

If they overplay, make 'em pay!

Come on, fellas, show us something!

Hey, watch the elbows, Charlie.

That kid's got edge, Major. He could play for me.

I'm beginning to think that

your ulterior motive has an ulterior motive.

What?

See the cutter! Box out!

Break it up!

Is that the kind of team this is?

The kind of team Coach Hayden would want you to be?

No.

You went there.

I'm shameless.

Look, Charlie, keep your elbows down.

Jordy, stop head-butting Charlie's elbows.

All right.

Puncture wound, six centimeters under right anterior rib cage,

piercing the ascending colon.

The victim was...

You Ravi?

I know you. Uh, how do I know you?

You may recognize me from such autopsies as my twin brother's.

Oh, yes.

Scott Eberhard was your brother.

- I'm sorry for your loss. - Uh-uh. He was nuts.

Dude believed in zombies.

Boat party Utopium, courtesy of your friends over at Shady Plots.

Blaine says you'll know what to do with it.

He's gonna need that cure muy pronto.

What's cooking?

Just grilling some veggies. Help yourself.

Haven't seen you in a while.

Yeah, work's been a gong show.

Yeah?

Wait till tax season. That must be a bear.

Whatever happened to Magic Mike?

that super-hot guy you hired?

Let's just say he's done some quality work underneath me.

You made it happen.

So, those nights you didn't come home...

I'm loud.

Seriously, I sound like a cartoon character being murdered.

I wouldn't want to put you through it.

And what about you?

It's like a convent up in here.

You missed it. There was full on no-holds-barred

kissing in here a couple nights ago.

- Tongues and everything. - Who is this porn star?

My ex-fiance.

Really?

Yeah.

- You think you're shocked. - I was just...

Oh, my God! Are you okay?

I'm fine. Just a flesh wound.

I'm so sorry. I'm such a klutz.

You must've really had it in for that zucchini.

Let me take that.

I'm fine. I'm just going to wash this and get a Band-Aid.

All right.

There's an open wine in the fridge.

That's okay.

I've got everything I need.

This is all tainted Utopium?

From Blaine and his friends at Shady Plots.

A group that evidently includes

the twin brother of one Scott Eberhard.

Does he talk to the devil, too?

Only this handsome one during our brief interaction.

As far as I could tell.

How many zombie cures do you think we can get out of this?

No, no, no, not so fast.

First, we need to make zombie rats to test

whether or not this Utopium can truly lead to a zombie cure.

And we are talking months of rigorous testing.

Who knows how Blaine got his hands on this.

I could be with Major.

Hey, you are hearing me, right?

Just say it with me.

Rigorous testing. Months.

Months for lesser men, maybe,

but not for the Einstein of zombie kind,

the egghead from West End.

I'm from Upton Park, actually.

And Broadway Joe was from Beaver Falls. The point is...

You ever heard of Funders Keepers?

It's a crowd funding site. Why?

So Coach Hayden was raising $5,000

to take his team to Steve Nash's basketball camp.

In the project's first three weeks online,

Mike raised less than $1,000.

But then, a single, anonymous,

$4,100 pledge on the final day put him over the top.

- On the day he died. - That can't be a coincidence.

All right, bring it out. Give them options, guys. Drive it!

Take it in...

Nice shot, Chris! Go ahead, admire it.

Jaylen, you gonna let him do you like that?

Go get it back, now.

Looking good, coach.

But, have you considered a read-and-react offense

with some high-screen sets and more movement off the ball?

I mean...

Break it up! Break it up! Oh, hey, break it up!

Cool off, Charlie, go get some water.

I'll talk to you in a minute. Go.

Look, I gotta talk to Charlie. You mind taking over practice?

I thought you'd never ask.

Huddle up!

Here's what's gonna happen, gentlemen, you're gonna pick it up.

I want to see ball movement,

proper screens, hard cuts to the hole.

And if I don't,

I'm going to run you like dogs.

Let's go, ladies! Hustle!

I tried to warn you, you want to dance, you got to pay the band.

Water break. Back in five.

Do it tomorrow, yeah? Go.

How'd it go?

Trouble at home. He's in a bad place.

Jordy said Charlie's dad split.

Ran off to Tucson with their babysitter.

Gone, completely out of his life, just like that.

Yeah, that'll mess you up.

Excuse me, are you all done with the sports section?

All yours.

Thanks.

Daddy!

Come here you.

Just look at you.

Okay, I understand that Bitcoin is untraceable,

but there must be...

I know what untraceable means.

Thanks anyway.

I noticed you were the first detective of record

on the Meat Cute case,

but got pulled off. Why?

There was a story they liked that was neat and tidy

and made a hero out of one of our own.

Then there was a messier story,

one that still hasn't been solved,

but I doubt it would get any police heroism headlines.

And that's the theory you advanced?

Here's something that would really untidy their story.

Remember Alan York?

Fourth man on the Moon,

came through Seattle on a book tour last year,

disappeared without a trace?

What about him?

We found a strand of his hair deep in a sink drain.

At Meat Cute.

As the ranking zombie on-site,

shouldn't I get veto-power over their names?

I'm kind of over your whole Star Wars theme.

Why don't we name these guys after the '86 Celtics?

As in Celtic F.C., from Glasgow?

As in Boston Celtics.

Bird. McHale. Parrish.

Then, no.

I don't have the foggiest idea who those people are,

and neither will you in a few days.

We'll just be standing here

trying to remember why we're calling a rat Bird.

Isn't that right, Boba Ratt?

Again with the rats, you two.

So, that $4,000 donation

to Mike's Funders Keepers page is a dead end.

Whoever made it used Bitcoin.

Untraceable, apparently.

Babineaux.

Okay. Where's the body? Got it. Thanks.

New lead. Remember the pictures I showed you

from the security footage,

the three people we couldn't identify?

One just turned up dead.

- You guys up for a field trip? - We're already in a morgue.

I vote we wait for a body to come to us.

We can't. He was found in Tacoma.

Oh, bloody hell.

See? Our drawers are refrigerated, just like in the big city.

I know. Your whole set up is so cozy.

No wasted space.

Yes, well.

In Tacoma, they have a real

stigma against murder, so we find this space ample.

- Guys, Ian... - Dr. Metzger.

Right.

Dr. Metzger and I met at the interview for my current position.

- Quotas. - Yes.

Seattle insists a percentage of their hires be

respected experts in their field.

A foreign accent must come in handy,

when selling yourself as one.

Dr. Metzger, when we spoke on the phone,

you weren't positive that...

Yes, dental records confirm this is Telly Levins. 48.

Body was found in the concrete foundation

of a high rise construction site.

So you have high rises here in the Shire?

Cranes. Bulldozers. The whole nine yards.

And the citizenry doesn't suspect witchcraft?

This was found on Levins. Now.

I believe he was working on the site,

fell, hit his head on the cross beam and then.

Then, sunk into the wet concrete.

There are traces of cerebrospinal fluid in his ears and nose.

Yeah, this fracture was caused by acute, blunt force trauma.

Somebody did this to him.

Blunt force trauma?

Like hitting a crossbeam and falling into a pit?

There was no sign of struggle.

Occam's Razor, my friend.

Maybe there was no struggle because he was caught by surprise.

Construction site?

Man with a hammer?

Let's not make it more complicated than it is.

Levins has a lengthy rap sheet.

Mostly as a low-level collections guy,

an enforcer for a few different bookmaking operations.

Huh? So that hammer would come in handy for breaking kneecaps.

It's what people in his line of work do.

I stand corrected.

The security tapes show Telly

going to the 14th floor an hour before Mike was shot.

Who occupies the 14th floor?

A law office, heavy hitters

representing some of Seattle's shadiest clients.

Telly was never seen on tape leaving the building.

He ends up dead and dumped in Tacoma.

Who else was on the 14th floor?

The tapes showed only one other person going up there that night

before the cameras were turned off.

- That's who we need to talk to. - Got it.

It's a real shame about Mike.

But I can assure you,

he was very much alive when I left the building.

What brought you in so late, Mr. Thrunk?

I'd forgotten a file I needed.

Did he talk to you about his Funders Keepers project?

He talked to everyone about it.

He was a broken record on the topic.

I'm so sorry, Mr. Thrunk,

I entered the wrong code into the photocopier,

and the entire Helms case was billed to Mr. Powell.

Go see Rick in accounting. He'll take care of it.

The ability to handle one's own problems, a lost art.

Do you recognize this man?

Nope.

Do you remember who else

was up here on the 14th floor that night?

There's usually a few people working late,

but I wasn't paying attention.

Thank you.

Does everyone have their own code for the copier?

They do, why?

Hello? Can I help you?

Harry Cole?

Seattle P.D.

Your copier code was among those logged on Thursday night.

The night Mike Hayden, the lobby security guard was killed.

Were you working late that night?

I was.

I have a big case coming up.

Appears you're a big sports fan, Mr. Cole.

Ever do any gambling?

Well... A few bucks for the Super Bowl.

Have you ever met Telly Levins?

Uh-uh. No.

Come on, Hearst! Defense!

No!

Sorry, I can't be of more help.

Did you go to Hearst College?

No. I really wish there

was something more I could offer, but, uh...

We've had access to Mike's email.

He mentioned you having a breakdown in the lobby

following a Hearst College loss.

I have no memory of that.

Wow, signed by Pete Rose. The hit king!

- You mind? - Help yourself, man.

Is that bleach?

Is this about where you were standing when Telly Levins came by

to collect on your gambling debts?

Like I said, I don't know a Telly.

Did he threaten you with a ball-peen hammer?

-"Pay up or lose a kneecap." - You didn't have the money.

But you did have a bat within reach.

This is all conjecture.

It's going to stop being conjecture

when this turns out to be Telly Levins' blood.

Yes.

All right, friends.

What we have here is a concentrated dose of Max Rager

and what we hope is Boat Party Utopium.

If it's indeed the right stuff you will soon be zombie rats.

Your courage will be neither forgotten, nor in vain.

Who goes first? Do I have a volunteer?

*I don't care if Monday's blue, Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too*

*Thursday I don't care about you It's Friday I'm in love*

To what do I owe the pleasure?

Come on. The Cure?

I don't know why I bother.

The cure won't be ready for a while, yet.

We're going to do this properly this time. Rigorous testing.

Sorry, Doc.

I promised my friend if he gave us the tainted Utopium recipe,

he'd get the cure, tout de suite.

For your friend?

- Come Holy Spirit, fill the hearts of your faithful... - No! Wait!

Kindle in them the fire of your love.

That was unwise.

Needs work, Doc.

I'm calling it. Time of death, 9:47 P.M.

Drug overdose.

This job isn't so hard.

That wasn't the cure.

That was the tainted Utopium Max Rager combination

I was going to use to make the zombie rat test subjects.

This certainly means that

so-called Boat Party Utopium wasn't even close.

We are back to square one.

Bright side?

You discovered the anti-cure.

Instant zombie killer.

So I wouldn't beat yourself up too much, Doc.

That's a hell of an accomplishment unto itself.

I mean, in the wrong hands...

Well, that's my cardio for the day.

Let me tell you what it looks like, Harry.

You have a gambling problem.

Racked up debts you couldn't pay.

Telly was sent to break some bones, or worse.

But Telly brought a hammer to a bat fight.

Nice touch, Clive. You got this.

You thought you could disappear Telly's body

into a cement foundation in Tacoma,

but first you had to get

his body past Mike and the security cameras.

So you called down and made a deal,

if Mike shut down the cameras,

you'd donate the rest of the money he needed

to send his team to basketball camp.

You tore out the page of the visitor's log where Telly signed in.

But you didn't want to leave anything to chance,

so you figured you'd better kill Mike, too.

Boom. You got this. Bring it on home.

Why don't you take a seat, Miss Moore.

The blood we found on your office blinds

will come back as a match for Telly.

Okay, okay. Yeah.

Telly pulled out the hammer and I just reacted. Okay?

I grabbed my bat. It was self-defense.

But I didn't kill Mike.

- Then who did? - We have a guy that works at our firm,

a fixer.

He cleans up messes like this.

He told me to wipe down the bat,

- and everything else with bleach. - But you forgot the blinds.

I was working fast.

"Be quick, but don't hurry." John Wooden said that.

Getting Mike to turn off the security cameras,

the Funders Keepers donation, that was all his idea.

And then we stuffed Telly's body in a janitor's cart,

we wheeled it down to the lobby.

But he shot Mike.

I swear to God, I had no idea that was part of his plan.

You'll testify to that fact?

I mean, if the deal is right, I'll give you the name.

Only one guy at your firm showed up just before Mike's killing.

I don't need a name.

I checked out eight potentials this week.

None were zombies.

You're sure?

- None? - Yeah.

And...

I don't think it's a good idea for us to mix business with,

well, whatever it is we were doing.

We'll play it by ear.

I'm not sure if Vaughn explained to you

the full extent of how our list is generated,

but there are statistical probabilities attached to each

of the potential zombies we've given you.

And the likelihood of these

eight names all coming back negative is...

low.

Never tell me the odds.

Yes, you are a good boy.

Good boy!

Hey. Sorry, I knocked, but

no one answered, and this guy was talking trash,

so I had to let myself in and show him who's boss.

There's the Major I remember.

- Are you leaving? - No.

We're just going to get a bite. Pizza, maybe?

What do you feel like?

Liv, I don't want to do this anymore.

Do what?

Pretend I'm okay just being your friend.

I want more. I want us to be together again.

Major, nothing has changed.

- I still... - I know all the risks,

and all the reasons it can't work.

But I don't care.

I'm a better man with you in my life.

Can we give it another shot?

Hey, you've reached Liv's phone. Leave a message.

Hey, Liv.

Thought you'd want to know we

found Roger Thrunk trying to board a private jet.

He's in custody now.

Good work.

Mrs. Suzuki. I owe you an apology.

- I shouldn't have... - I don't need an apology.

I thought about what you said on the phone the other day, and...

He could've been suicidal.

Anyway, after you called, I started poking around.

He had a beer fridge, and I found this

in the freezer.

I don't know what to make of it.

Maybe you will.

{\pos(338,27)}Love From Bangladesh