iZombie (2015–…): Season 3, Episode 11 - Conspiracy Weary - full transcript

Previously on iZombie...

Look, what I found in my hate mail.

"If you ever need a sympathetic
ear, I've got two. Shawna."

You're prosecuting Weckler?
The dominatrix killer.

He confessed even though you
didn't have much hard evidence.

We need to find that memory card

Weckler stole from Roxanne's dungeon.

James Weckler hanged himself
in his cell this morning.

His brain is marinating

in Ravi's blue juice down at the morgue.

In my vision, I was getting hanged.



So Weckler didn't commit suicide.
He was murdered.

I landed us an invite to the zombie
truthers meeting tomorrow night.

We're gonna capture a zombie.

Let the whole world see
the monster it becomes!

They're starving Don E.
until he turns Romero

and broadcasting it on a live stream.

You wanna go kick some ass?

- Don't do this!
- No! Please, Ravi!

- Three...
- Don't do this!

Two...

_

- Don't do it!
- Two...

Do it!

Do it! Shoot him!



- Come on, now!
- Shoot him, bro.

Do it.

All right. All right!

- Let's everybody keep our cool.
- Shoot him!

You really think
these things feel pain, hmm?

Have honest-to-God human emotions?

I do. I do.

Yeah?

I think that one might already be dead.

They're killing machines,
you dumb sumbitch!

Those things killed our brother.

They'll kill us all!

Do it.

- Don't!
- Let's go!

Here we go, y'all! Enjoy the show!

There's 100,000 people seeing this live.

Right now!

You didn't order a pizza again, did you?

Uh-uh.

Go check it out.

- What?
- Go!

Hit him again, bro.

What the hell?

I got something for you, boy.

One in the head.

Put your weapons down and your hands up!

This is your only warning!

Liv! Hey...

What happened?

- Are you okay?
- Am I hit?

Uh-huh.

Hey, my rage wore off.

I need you to zap me
so I can tear down this gate.

- With pleasure.
- Uh, Liv, please...

Can I?

Down! Down! Down!

Get down!

Liv?

It's been a helluva day.

You might tell your friends to
quit pointing those guns at me?

_

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I wanted to take them alive.

They wanted to go out like
Butch and Sundance.

Who're you?

I'm the guy who just rescued a zombie

from being tortured
live on the Internet.

Along with my partner in crime here.

Blaine McDonough, owner,
proprietor of The Scratching Post.

Chase Graves.

I've met a few of your employees,

but we haven't had the pleasure.

How'd you find this place?

One of our people saw the live stream.

We took an educated guess that
Harley Johns was behind it.

The tracker we planted in his
truck led us here. Where is he?

- Well, he escaped.
- How'd that happen?

Said the person who showed up late.

Hey, listen. I've got a
business proposition for you.

Why don't you swing by the Post?

Wine, women, song...

- We'll see.
- All right, then.

I should go, uh, check on my employee.

Friend of yours?

Ravi!

There you are. Have you seen a girl?

Just Liv. Who're you looking for?

- Rachel.
- Your zombie truther friend?

She escaped before us,
but I can't find her.

Sorry, man.

Know anything about a Johns
family compound outside the city?

No. Why?

We've heard the brothers
talking about such a place

on the bug we planted in Harley's truck.

Think you could use police
resources to help track it down?

Sir...

Uh, we found these in Harley's truck.

N.V.M. 308. Ruger P89.

Those are the models used in the
Baracus assassination attempt

and the Tuttle-Reid murders.

This guy's responsible
for a lot of dead zombies.

We need to find him,
and we need to find him now.

I'll get my partner to track
down the Johns' property.

I'll take these guns, too, make
sure the ballistics are a match.

It seems redundant,
but they're all yours.

Keep me apprised.

- You okay?
- Yeah, I'm fine. You?

Good.

You wanna come over later?

Yes, ma'am. Yes, I do.

You can pull a bunch of
buckshot out of my back.

Ooh, kinky.

You mind putting those guns in my car?

I want to check on Don E.
He was in bad shape.

You were right, Blaine.

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

Doesn't get much fresher than this.

How about you, you want in?

I wouldn't say no.

Save some for me.

- Yeah!
- Pop a squat, girlfriend!

This is a surprise.

I thought you might have, I dunno,
"ethics" or some such nonsense.

My ethics are outweighed by my need
to find where Harley is hiding.

His brother's brain
might have some answers.

This is nice.

Should we make this
a weekly thing, or...

Liv, you up here?

I'm ready to go...

I'll be in the car.

What you got goin' on there?

Oh, that's the sex fort.

So...

How was your London trip?

Witty.

Harley made me
call you with that excuse,

so no one would wonder
why I didn't show up for work.

No. Really.

- What, you had a slumber party?
- Hmm.

It was more of a staycation.

Remember Shawna, the girl who
wrote me that sweet letter?

The big Chaos Killer fan? You didn't.

Oh, but I did.

- Several times.
- Ah...

It's not just sex, though. I mean...

Hmm. No, I mean, it's mostly sex, but...

She has a lot of other qualities,

and I... I cannot wait to experience
whatever those are as well.

I'm sure propriety and modesty
are high on that list.

Hmm, all right, Carson. You
just worry about Lady Mary.

Rachel! Thank God.

- Come in, come in.
- What did we just see?

Those were actual zombies, right? But
they weren't like movie zombies...

- It was...
- Hey, hey, slow down.

Uh, let me get you something
to help you unwind.

- That's probably a good idea.
- Of course it is.

What's that?

- It's my roommate's sex fort.
- Oh.

How did you escape?

I was worried that you...

All of that gunfire, and...

Everything's okay now.

- Oh, God...
- No, no.

That's on me. Just...

- The timing is bad. I'm just...
- Hey!

You must be Rachel.

- I'm...
- Your roommate is the Chaos Killer?

I need to get out of here.

Um, um... Rachel!

Chaos Kidnapper if you must know.

_

I met your roommate downstairs.

He ravaged me with his eyes.

- I'm gonna need you to kick his ass.
- Can do!

I'm really excited that
you're taking me dancing.

- Who said I was taking you dancing?
- I did... Just now.

I'm meeting my friends at Club Rush

for "Death to Disco" night.
I want you to come.

Yeah... I'm not so into
going out these days.

In public. Like... Ever.

I mentioned how Ravi's lady friend
ran away at the sight of me, right?

Only five or six times.

Who cares what she thinks?

It's not so much her as it is the
other three-and-a-half million people

in the greater Seattle metro area

who feel roughly the same way about me.

So they get to dictate
how you live your life?

Hmm?

I'm not getting off until you say yes.

Oh...

I don't think you understand
how ultimatums work.

Oh...

Okay, smartass, you're not
getting off until you say yes.

All right. I'll give it a shot.

Now, I, uh, believe we had a deal...

Hmm.

Hold that thought...

I need to immortalize this moment.

A selfie stick?

I knew this was too good to be true.

What else are you hiding?

A lady never tells...

- Oh...
- You awake? I have Weckler news.

That I have to hear before coffee?

Sten, Clive and I went
to see Gary Oberman,

the prison guard who killed
Weckler, and guess what?

Oberman's dead, too.

He treated himself to a luxury
cruise, and then fell overboard.

Or didn't.

He could be the king of Baja
for all we know.

That's... That's odd.

Then we interviewed
Weckler's daughter, Tatum.

The kid was evasive,
like someone had got to her.

This case is bigger than we thought.

I'm thinking deep state.
Shadow government.

Wait...

The government's involved?

Well, not the "government"
government, obviously.

But the people behind the
government, the Illuminati.

Liv...

Whose brain have you eaten?

Who wants to know?

I do. That's why I asked.

Bo Johns'...

One of the zombie truthers' ringleaders.

- I guess he was a bit...
- Excitable? Paranoid?

Insane?

- Yeah.
- Got it.

So, how much of what you just
told me was actually true,

and how much was theoretical?

If Liv and Blaine hadn't
arrived when they did...

I'm sorry, Ravi.

I should have talked you out of
going undercover with those guys.

My desire to find Wally and
Anna's killer got the best of me.

Liv?

Did you bring Clive up to speed?

- Yes, I did!
- Good.

We found these in Harley's truck.

- Where?
- Harley's truck.

What?

I believe this is the
result of eating Bo Johns' brain,

a man who insisted to me that zombies
were the creation of the Shah of Iran.

These precautions aren't necessary, Liv.

You're right. Sorry.

These were in Harley's truck.

They're the same type of guns
used in the Baracus shooting...

And Wally's murder.

I thought we should run
ballistics to confirm.

If Cavanaugh learns we have
these, he'll go ballistic,

so it'll have to be off the
books, but I know a guy.

Ravi told me about the
mystery Johns family estate.

I requisitioned property records,

but it'll take a couple days
to get the results back.

Any other leads?

We could try wandering
around Wham Bam's.

Might trigger a Bo Johns vision.

That's better than nothing. Let's go.

Uh, something's occurred to me...

I may have a suggestion
for tripling your odds.

All those people that night
on the street in Vegas,

no one sees a shooter!

It's because he didn't get shot.

Look at the cover of Don Killuminati.

There's Tupac crucified,

and in the liner notes
it reads, and I quote,

"Exit Tupac, enter Makaveli."

He is alive and well, and will
return like a new messiah.

- That's insane.
- Oh, so you think he's dead?

No, of course he's not dead.

He's working for
the Feds as an informant.

- He's mowing his lawn in Scottsdale.
- Stop!

You two sound crazy.

Sad to say, but Tupac is dead and gone.

Biggie Smalls' twin
brother killed Tupac,

and it's that twin that got shot in LA.

Biggie, at this moment,
is sipping mojitos in Havana.

Okay.

Can we head over to Wham Bam's now?

Yeah, all right.

Ms. Charles?

James Weckler's personal effects
from county just arrived for you.

Great. Right here's fine.

We're up two more points.
We might just win this thing.

- Can I count on your vote?
- Of course. Good luck!

Our tech department's disinformation
campaign has been reasonably effective.

Most people still talking about the live
stream believe it's "leaked footage"

from some Blair Witch-like feature film.

I know. Small victories, Miss Gold.

The troops are on edge, though.

None of them think Zombie Island will
be ready before Discovery Day arrives.

The civilian population
feels differently.

They're still hopeful we can
avoid direct confrontation.

Sir, I...

I was told I could find you here...

- It can wait.
- You're not a six-year-old,

talk to me.

Uh, sir, yesterday, at Wham Bam's,
I had a bite of Bo Johns' brain.

I just had a vision.

I know where to find their cabin.

Get your squad geared up.
Get ready to go in 30 minutes.

Copy.

Should I notify our friends at
the Seattle Police Department?

No. They've done all they can.

It's our turn now.

_

I'm sorry you had to come all
the way down here for this.

I know this must be hard for you.

But I wanted to talk
to you about your dad.

You know he didn't kill himself, right?

That's what I was told.

We know he had a memory card
in his ssession when he died.

There's incriminating footage
of some powerful people on it.

I think one of those people
killed your father.

Can I just take this stuff and go?

I have to get home.

This was in your dad's wallet.

- Do you know what this is?
- A key?

For a safe deposit box.

You are the sole heir,
so it belongs to you.

But I was hoping that you would let
me come along when you open the box.

I don't think so.

Okay.

I understand.

Which bank?

Hard to say.

I mean, if you worked
in the DA's office,

you'd just have the imprint scanned.

But, if you don't, then

I guess you have to get a list
of the 342 banks in Seattle,

start visiting them one by
one, hope for the best.

So uncool.

You might not care who killed
your father, Tatum, but I do.

All I want is the memory card.

Then you never have to see
my uncool ass ever again.

Take your time.

This was my mother's...

It's here.

Thank you.

I should go.

I'm already super late.

No, I'll give you a ride.
It's not a problem.

There's a bus
that'll pick me up right...

- Tatum?
- Sorry.

Brain freeze. I gotta go catch that bus.

Dude, it couldn't be more obvious!

Cruise's tan is way too even, and
he's barely aged a day in 30 years.

Why do you think he does his
own death-defying stunts?

It's 'cause he's already dead.

I'll bet he doesn't eat the brain
of anyone over the age of 25.

So I should be thinking,
"That's a raged-out zombie,"

next time I see Tom Cruise
doing a chase sequence?

What the hell?

Did... Did you see that?

- In the woods?
- Inside Harley's truck.

Wow, did we just have a three-way?

- What was the vision?
- It was a zombie

chasing down Harley's truck.

Oh! It was the dude you brought
to The Scratching Post.

- What was the vision?
- It's news we already knew.

We're in Harley's truck, Liv
squeezes in our headlights,

frothing at the mouth.
He wants our brains, man!

I yell, "Go! Go! Go!"

Harley guns it in reverse.

Her friend is chasing us down
going like 60 miles an hour.

That's a slight exaggeration.

- Dude, I was there!
- We were all there.

This was on YouTube for God's sake.

Now how 'bout you two continue
your vision hunt downstairs,

and see if we can cover more territory.

- Sure.
- Why not?

Liv, I know it must be tough
having someone else's thoughts

swimming around in your head.

But we're looking for the
man that's most likely

responsible for Wally's murder.

I need you to focus.

I know why the radio's been acting up.

Zombies put a bug behind the dash.

They know everywhere we go
and everything we say.

Did you get rid of it?

Hell, no. We're gonna
use it against them.

Take a few out.

What'd you see?

Lilywhite and Bell, in position.

- Hold tight.
- Copy.

- Text from Liv.
- Same.

"Harley knew his truck was bugged, he
wants you to know about the cabin."

It's a trap.

Sir, our intel is faulty, repeat,
intel is compromised, over.

- What makes you say that?
- I just received a text from Liv Moore.

She said Harley knew about
the bug in his truck.

All units, fall back. Confirm receipt.

Hurley, Coyne, confirmed.

Clarke, Fallwell, confirmed.

Lilywhite, Bell, confirmed.

Finnegan, Coombs, acknowledge.

Do not press forward. Fall back.

Finnegan, Coombs, acknowledge!

_

Sorry. Bad habit I've
developed recently.

Harley killed two more
Fillmore-Graves soldiers yesterday.

- Oh, no.
- Lured them into a minefield.

Thank God no one else was hurt.
Justin was pretty messed up over it.

You know what I think?

Harley's whole redneck
persona is a cover.

No way some wacko gun-nut

outsmarts an experienced military
commander like Chase Graves.

He must've worked in
counterintelligence, Black Ops...

Respectfully, Liv, if you're
going to find Harley,

you have to try to separate
the facts from these theories.

You have to try to
limit your suspicions.

I know, you're right.

Wait a minute, why are
you sleeping in here?

Major's been having a lot of... Company.

And this company happens to be
very expressive in the boudoir

which now constitutes most of our house.

Shawna? I don't trust that girl.

No surprises there.

This isn't paranoid brain talking.
I want Major to be happy.

But there's something off about her.

She said they were pen pals.
I smell a lie.

It did start with a letter.

She wrote to the Chaos Killer, told
him she believed in his innocence.

- And included a photo of herself?
- Hmm.

So much for her innocence.

What did you say her last name was?

Uh...

- And what am I looking at here?
- Shawna's Tumblr page.

Scroll down.

What?

Oh, my God!

What the hell? I'm all over it!

- Those are texts we sent each other.
- Yeah.

You can't un-see some of those.

The video she took of me?
All of these pictures...

I'm sorry...

I thought you should know.

Oh, I almost forgot.

Gross. There's literally
a trash can right next to you.

They're always watching.

And I don't want you to freak
out, but I think Shawna's...

Crazy?

A zombie hunter trained by the CDC.

Getting close to you is
step one of a nine-step plan.

- Step two...
- I'm going to stick with she's crazy,

and she's using me for
some kind of weird notoriety.

I'm so sorry, Major.

Hey.

Hey.

Uh, I've been trying to reach you.

I do have your real
number and name, right?

I got your messages.

Sorry. I was still pretty freaked out.

It's a lot to process.

Huh...

Oh...

There's zombies protecting
Chaos Killer victims,

zombies protecting each other,
you protecting zombies,

and then, I find out you're
living with the Chaos Killer.

Correct.

Are you a zombie?

Uh...

- I am not.
- Okay.

But are you really?

No.

Look, check my pulse.

Okay...

You're human.

And a doctor. And kinda
my friend, I thought.

So help me wrap my head around this.

I've seen a zombie get cattle-prodded.

I've seen zombies bust down doors
and crash through skylights.

I've seen the Chaos Killer's sex fort!

How much crazier can
the rest of the story be?

What if I told you that yes,
zombies are real,

and yes, they eat brains...

But they're not monsters.

Most of them, anyway.

They're just like you and me.

I already told you about the Lake
Washington boat party massacre.

But there's a lot I left out...

Justin said his unit marked a safe path

through the landmines
and checked out the cabin.

It looked like no one
had been inside for months.

So it was a trap.

Babineaux.

This guy says he sold you
some concert tickets?

Uh, yeah, that's right.

Cool.

Who are you gonna go see?

Music.

Thanks.

Yeah...

Axel, this is Liv. Liv, Axel.

- What's with the glasses, Axel?
- What's with the skin, Liv?

Relax, both of you.

He's my ballistics guy.

These are from the handgun
and the rifle you gave me.

Striations on the slugs are identical to
the ones from each of the crime scenes.

Whoever these guns belong
to is your shooter.

What's with that guy?

What's going on? Why aren't you dressed?

- You okay?
- Not really.

- I saw your Tumblr page.
- Okay...

You know, I get that exploiting other
people for their fame is a thing,

but couldn't you have
at least asked me first?

Whoa, whoa... Who's exploiting you?

You posted stuff that was private.
It was just between us.

I'm trying to help you, Major.

You're basically a hermit
because all anyone sees

when they look at you
is the Chaos Killer.

I'm showing them the real Major,

the one who is sweet, and
smart, and funny, and charming.

And, okay, pretty easy on the eyes.

Don't you think it's time
someone told that story?

I don't want to be any story.

I just want to go back to when
nobody knew who I was.

Oh, baby.

That ship has sailed.

Look, if the posts bother you
that much, I'll take them down.

Okay?

Can we call that
the end of our first fight?

Maybe hold a peace treaty
signing ceremony in Fort Us?

I'm sorry, Shawna.

I can't see you anymore.

Are you serious?

Yeah.

Fine.

Good luck finding a time machine.

_

Outside in 10, gentlemen.

We're running D-Day simulations.

You know what's out there, let's
make sure we're ready for it.

And get your butts to a polling
place as soon as we're done.

We'll need one of our own running
this city when all hell breaks loose.

And if you happen to pass
Pike Place on your way home...

Make sure you grab one of these.

Uh...

It's neck-and-neck
in this special election

to replace Mayor Gwen Davis, who
resigned for health reasons...

Where've you been?
I've been calling and texting.

You prefer skywriting?

Only if it was encrypted.

I switched to a burner phone.

I got one for you too. You
never know who's listening.

I'm good. Sit down,
I've a lot to catch you up on.

James Weckler had a safe deposit box.

I convinced Tatum to let me
come along when she opened it.

Guess what was inside?

The memory card Weckler stole
from Roxanne's hidden camera.

It was recording when he killed her.

Look.

Hey, hey, here, who's he calling?

It's James...

Uh, no, not yet.

It, uh, it went bad.

She caught me,
I had to, uh... She's dead...

I had to kill her!

No. You made me do this,
you have to help me fix it!

Okay...

Okay.

Yeah.

Obviously, whoever he was talking
to also made him steal that card.

- Hey!
- Just trying to protect you.

Whatever, all right.

I haven't even gotten to the big news.

Remember the phone call from prison?

Weckler asked Tatum, "Are
they keeping you well-fed?"

Yeah.

He wanted to make sure she was well-fed.

In brains!

- Tatum's a zombie.
- What!

I saw her go into a vision.

Frak me running.

Who would most want to
keep Weckler quiet,

but also know how to best
threaten his zombie daughter?

Baracus.

He's somewhere in this footage,

dressed in leather chaps, begging
for Roxanne to whip him.

Oh, God.

He knows his political career is over
if any of that footage gets out.

But he can't risk getting caught
trying to steal it himself.

I checked the records.

Baracus prosecuted Weckler's
B&E arrest when he was an ADA.

He got his patsy, now he needs leverage,

which he gets when he finds out
that Weckler has a daughter.

So Baracus turns Tatum into a zombie,

promises to keep her in brains

as long as Weckler steals
the memory card for him.

Weckler screws up, he kills Roxanne,

and so Baracus gets a
prison guard to kill Weckler.

Then Baracus gets that same prison guard
thrown overboard, off a cruise ship.

I buy the blackmail, but I'm not
sure Baracus is a serial killer.

He is definitely mixed up in this.

- And I just voted for him.
- So did I.

All right, we did it!

Seattle has a zombie mayor.

Because this victory
belongs to all of us...

Who is possibly also a murderer.

We could not have done this without you.

- Hello?
- Hey.

Didn't you say Harley's cabin
had been abandoned for months?

Well, that's what Justin told me.

Then why am I looking
at a noise complaint

about heavy machinery and construction

going on at that address
eight weeks ago?

- I don't know. But I have a theory...
- I'm sure you do.

Tell me tomorrow, when we head
out there. Good night, Liv.

Let's enjoy this win tonight,

because tomorrow, the real work begins.

Yeah, that's a great column.

For your college newspaper. Next!

"DA Baracus snatches victory"

"from the jaws of defeat."

I pity the fool that has to read that.

All right, give me
1,000 words of your best

Monday-morning quarterbacking.
What else we got?

The Chaos Killer's been
selling T-shirts of himself,

profiteering off his notoriety.

Think piece on who's buying them,

what it says about our
society, blah, blah, blah.

Sold... And I'm a size large. Next?

I have a friend from college
who's an intern at St. Thomas.

There's been a couple of cases of some
SARS-like virus they can't identify.

- They say it might get bad.
- All right, dig into it.

Get back to me when you got more.

Scoot.

Oh, nice of you to grace us
with your presence.

So, any update on your "wingnuts
who believe in zombies" story?

There have been a few developments.

You might want to make
some room on the front page.

_

Neighbors a quarter mile away
complained about construction noise.

Construction of what?

Forget heavy equipment. This place
hasn't even seen a vacuum cleaner.

Hey, wait till you hear the
latest on the Weckler case.

We think that Weckler was
being blackmailed by Baracus,

who turned Weckler's
daughter into a zombie,

then had Oberman kill Weckler, and then

covered his tracks by having Oberman

"accidentally" fall overboard
from a cruise ship.

Did Baracus then have whoever
pushed Oberman overboard whacked?

He's dirty, Clive.
You heard it here first.

Anything?

You're the conspiracy theorist.

Why would you need to
build a new outhouse

when you already have indoor plumbing?

Notice anything unusual?

Yeah. It doesn't stink.

I think I found that new construction.

Harley Johns...

You're under arrest for
the murder of Fred Tuttle,

- Anna Reid and Wally Reid.
- I didn't kill those people.

The murder weapon we found in your
truck tells a different story.

Just give me a reason...

Harley, got yer ears on?

Little busy, Wade.
I'll holler at ya later.

Hey! That's it.

The message board said
that's where zombies live.

What the hell?

Someone's shooting in there! Get
us the hell out of here, man!

It doesn't bring Wally or Anna back.

Hell, it doesn't even feel good.

I thought it would.

He didn't do it.

- What?
- He didn't kill Wally or Anna.

I had a vision.

Harley was in his truck with Bo outside
Wally's house when the murders happened.

He looked completely startled.
It wasn't him.

I just killed an innocent man.

Oh, my God.

Major Lilywhite is a monster.

Chaos Killer or the Chaos Kidnapper,

whatever you wanna call him,
the guy belongs in jail.

Now he's selling "Killer Abs" T-shirts?

Are you kidding me?

If I ever run into that smug pretty boy,

I'll show him some real chaos.

How is he walking around a free man?

Isn't there a law against
profiting off your own crimes?

Half the city
already hates this guy, so...

♪ Tim Finnegan lived in Watling Street ♪

♪ A gentle Irishman mighty odd ♪

♪ To help him on with
his work every day ♪

♪ He'd a drop of
the Craythor every morn' ♪

♪ Whack fol-de-dah
now dance to yer partner ♪

♪ Around the floor yer trotters shake ♪

♪ Wasn't it the truth I told ya ♪

♪ Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake ♪

♪ One morning Tim felt rather full ♪

♪ His head felt heavy
and it made him shake ♪

♪ With a barrel of porter at his feet ♪

♪ And a bottle o'whiskey at his head ♪

♪ Whack fol-de-dah
now dance to yer partner ♪

♪ Around the floor yer trotters shake ♪

♪ Wasn't it the truth I told you?

♪ Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake ♪

♪ Whack fol-de-dah
now dance to yer partner ♪

♪ Around the floor yer trotters shake ♪

♪ Wasn't it the truth I told you? ♪

♪ Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake ♪

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