iZombie (2015–…): Season 5, Episode 2 - Dead Lift - full transcript

Previously on iZombie...

You're a hero,
you know that.

You show 'em what one
good human can do.

We're gonna make it to
Seattle with or without you.

We get stopped in
Washington, we're screwed.

Consider this group
a task force.

We need to find out who
murdered this poor woman.

Seventy-two people

were pinging the cell phone
tower at 12:38 that night.

One of these ladies
must be our victim.

Have you seen the video of the
woman being dragged into the car



of a couple of zombies?

We haven't been able
to identify the victim.

I found her phone.

In her jacket.

Lisa's gone.

It was just supposed to be
a work retreat.

She can't be dead.

I know
there's a time crunch,

but I hope we don't find his girlfriend's
body until he agrees to go home.

Yeah, but until
we find a body,

we're no closer to finding the
zombies who ripped her to shreds.

Babe?

Oh, my God. You're alive.

Bix? Wow.
Is this happening?



What're you wearing?

Whoa.

Lisa, we're inside
caution tape.

Wait. Did someone die?

Apparently not.

Oh, hey, man.
Glenn. Accounting.

What's going on, Lisa?

My guess,

Lisa and Glenn's work retreat

took a somewhat romantic
and psychedelic turn.

I totally get your energy,
brother, but can we table this?

'Cause I am peaking right now

and this is about to go south.

I take it you're Lisa Gertz?

I need the last four
of your social.

Zero...

Three...

Two...

Four.

Thank you.

Good luck, buddy.

Sixty-nine phones down.

Three to go.
Still no victim.

It's the journey, Clive.

State Trooper found these Raggedy
Anns on a bus near Tacoma.

No ID. Wouldn't tell us
where they're from.

It's not our problem, right?

Child Protective Services'll
get 'em home.

Let's go.

Sweet ride.

What is that, like 0 to 60
in what, five seconds?

- Something like that, yeah.

I plan on joining the force
after high school.

Well, best of luck to ya.

I thought about being
a fireman at first,

but, uh, the boys in blue are
the real heroes, am I right?

Fireman get guns?

- No, they do not.
- Enough said.

I hear that cops do better
with the ladies.

Now, that is
an undisputed fact.

Do you ever feel like you're an unwitting
tool of the prison industrial complex?

Hey!

Oh, come on.

Yes!

Let's go.

Pain in my ass.

In addition
to the three dead,

Sullivan and Cortez
each lost a leg.

Mcllleny lost and eye.

And the suicide bomber?

Still no leads.

A Dead Ender, no doubt.

Commander, if I may.

Some of our soldiers

are expressing concern
that your policies are...

They felt safer before
the curfew was eliminated.

They aren't thrilled
by the body cameras.

They feel that engaging
in community outreach

and conflict resolution
courses is, well...

A waste of time.

So what?

Are we voting on policy now?

I'm just giving the commander
the lay of the land.

We need to be seen
as part of this community.

Not an occupying force.

We are an occupying force.

Perhaps, if the commander spent
more time out in the field...

Maybe you and the commander should
compare bullet scars, Hobbs.

So, we should just kill them with
kindness, these, uh, Dead Enders?

I'm not asking you
to hand out flowers.

I'm saying we will hold
ourselves to higher standards.

Screw standards!

Those soldiers
were my friends.

Do you even know their names?

You are out of line,
Sergeant Major.

Justin.

Adrian Flores moved here from
Tallahassee when he was 17.

Never missed an FSU
football game.

Danny Cozza was a local.

Dad runs a fishing charter.

Heather Schooley
was from Olympia.

Worshipped Sleater-Kinney.

We will not rest until we have found
those responsible for this attack.

But let's keep in mind, there are
half a million humans in Seattle,

and 10,000 of us.

If they decide that we only
have zombie interests at heart,

this city will collapse.

You cooking brains, Ravi?

I thought you already
had your monthlies.

Ravi told me you'd been
having a tough go of it.

I know your favorite comfort food
is double chocolate brownies,

but brain cannelloni
just felt right.

So, you let the winners out of
Seattle to compete on the show

and they give you
ad time?

Mmm-mmm.

There's no way
I'm doing that.

Besides, could you imagine
the commercial?

"Dance of a Lifetime!
Sponsored by Fillmore Graves,

the zombie mercenaries who built the
wall your uncle's trapped behind."

- How are you holding up
over there?

It's the worst.

My job is pretending
to be RoboCop,

but knowing the Buzzfeed Quiz
explicitly told me I'm a C-3PO.

Well, I am on board
for all your reforms,

for what it's worth.

And Ravi keeps reminding me
that C-3PO's an Ewok god,

so, I've got that
going for me.

The cannelloni was amazing,
Liv, thank you.

I thought you could do
with a pick-me-up.

So, I dropped by
The Scratching Post,

picked up some
fitness-guru brains.

It seemed like a safe bet.

Fitness guru? Huh.

Hence the sudden urge
to gun my lats.

You sneak a little appetizer?

Was my cannelloni a failure?

I...

Replaced your delicious brains
with disgusting brain tube paste

while you were dressing
the salad.

Dude...

I'm sorry.

You cooking for me
means the world to me.

But I can't really afford anyone
else living in my head at the moment.

Not now.

Mmm!

You know, just once I wish you'd ask
how my day was before using my body.

Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry.

How was your day?

It was pretty good, I guess.

Mmm! Whoa, whoa, whoa.
How about some reciprocity?

When am I not reciprocal?

Reciprocity is the hallmark
of a Chakrabarti tumble.

No, no, no, no.

My day.

Right.
How was your day, love?

Mmm... Well, since you asked,

I had a Skype interview with
this teen journalist from Iowa.

- Mmm-hmm.
- She's doing a story for her school paper on.

"Influential Women Under 30."

No biggie.

Oh. Tell me
how powerful you are.

She, um, asked me some
crazy questions about zombies.

- Mmm-hmm.
- Like, tinfoil-hat crazy.

I guess, in Iowa, people think
zombie hordes roam Seattle

eating human legs
like drumsticks

or that they grow
their nails out

running through schools
scratching children

like Freddy Kreuger.

Mmm, human legs...

- Which got me thinking...

- Seattle could really use some positive zombie PR.
- Mmm.

- You know what we could do?
- -Give up?

Solicit ideas from the public.
Make it a thing.

I can run it up the pole
with City Council.

Of course, they hate
each other's guts.

So, getting anything done
will be hard.

Hmm, so hard.

Oh, God, they're frustrating,
those two.

- So frustrating.

Two? There are only two
City Council members?

Do you ever listen to me?

The other five escaped Seattle
before the wall went up.

Mort and Zed are the only ones
who stuck around.

I can't even get them to agree
to hold a new election.

Are you kidding? I love the
idea of a special election.

All I ask is that
we identify the candidates

as zombie or human
right there on the ballot.

The people of Seattle have a right to
know who or what they're voting for.

I'm... I'm just afraid
Zed might find it a bit...

Divisive.

And species-ist.

An election should not be
about us versus them.

I got you there.

Mort is a typical human.

A zombie-hating bully.

I love zombies.
Big fan of the culture.

Zed is why you're
stuck in this

not-really-the-mayor-but-
obligated-to-do-his-job limbo.

- He won't...
- ...come to the table.

He's not interested
in solution.

All he has is
these empty slogans and...

- And no execution.
- And he doesn't have the heart...

...the balls to do
what's right for the city.

- What can I say?
- My hands are tied.

Wait, I had a... I had one
more item on the agenda.

You want some money
for a PR campaign.

I've read your email.

We all agree that improving the
national perception of zombies

is critical to the safety
of Seattle.

We absolutely agree.

And what good are roads
and libraries and schools

and firetrucks
if we've been nuked, right?

It's a great idea.

It's just not...

...in the budget.

And if it's not in the budget,
we can't approve it.

Sorry, kid.

Hang in there.

People like us, we get it.

We know it's not about
having a super shredded core,

ripped quads, jacked delts,

swole hams, yoked pects
and insanely-tight glutes.

It's about feeling good,

and realizing your potential,
am I right?

Liv, I know you're on
a fitness-nut brain,

but do not try to make me
the Hans to your Franz.

Oh, this could be our lady.

Excuse me, ma'am,
this is my swole mate, CB.

Yeah?

Clive Babineaux.
We're Seattle PD.

You have a moment?

Oh, sure. Excuse the sweat.
Damn hot flashes.

Oh, sweat is just your
body fat crying.

- May I?
- Oh.

We're investigating
a potential homicide

that took place last week
outside of a convenience store.

Oh, I saw the footage.
That poor woman.

And the victim was on her cell
just before the attack,

so, we're tracking down every phone
that pinged the nearest tower.

Okay...

Mind telling me
the last four of your social?

Oh. Sure. 2198.

I'm glad you're okay,
Mrs. Jones.

Oh, wait, you're the one
that's been calling me.

I'm sorry, I don't answer
unknown numbers.

I donated to
a non-profit once,

and now every time
the phone rings, it's like,

"Hey, give ten dollars
for the Sumatra rhino."

Are you kidding me?

Okay, I get guilt tripped
enough.

Like, when Larry,
that's my second husband,

contracted cholera.

Don't ask. And he was all like,
"You have the power to help me,"

until I agreed to steal
hydrocodone for his stomach pain.

He was exploding like a hydrant
in a Brooklyn heat wave.

Oh, whoopsie.

I probably shouldn't be telling
the cops about stealing the meds.

That's okay. Liv. Liv.

...Bye.

Good news, the lab should be
sending the blood test results

from the convenience store
murder tomorrow.

That's what's up.

There's stress
in your voice, bro.

Are you getting
enough omega threes?

It's just Peyton.
She's just a little bit...

Underwhelmed in the sack?

What?
Did she say something?

You're probably overdoing it.

It's a common mistake for young men.
It's simpler than you think.

You know, four hours before
sex, you just take an ice bath,

eat three Brazil nuts...

Okay, thank you.

...a spoon of fermented
trout butter,

and then, during the jam sesh,
you just, sort of, soak.

You know, think of it
as a hot tub.

Not a lap pool.

And focus on the eyes.

I was gonna say she's a
bit overwhelmed at work.

Aren't we all.

Hey, we should hit the gym
after work.

Ow! I'm good, actually.

Oh, come on.

- Bro, don't you want to be Ravi-rock-hard-body?
- No.

Oh.

What are you putting
in that gob of yours?

Goose muddled
in antler sauce,

a civet of hare,

six hard-boiled eggs
covered in saffron

- and flavored with cloves.

And while you're here,
innkeep...

Milord?

Perchance a sprinkling of
grated Myconid in my soup?

Tell me when.

Ah.

'Tis sufficient.

I take a seat next
to Mr. Bandywax.

You must come with me now,
my halfling friend.

Now?

Oh, not now.

Mayhap anon.

My goose remains uncooked.

Don't sit there pitchkettled,
Mr. Bandywax.

If you don't come forsooth,

you risk never gandering another
goose, be it cooked or raw.

I rush to the table,
take the remaining seat.

Prithee, Mosco,

leave thy bellytimber thither
and let us flee,

lest thy be the very cooked
goose thou longst to taste.

Okay. Are you guys gonna
kill some monsters,

or am I gonna send
Gorlogg the Attention Seeker

in here with his Vorpal blade?

My cousin in Ohio thinks that
I turned zombie for attention.

Didn't you
turn vampire for a girl?

Do you mind if I
steal that line?

My comedy troupe could use it
for our zombie sketch.

You're in a comedy troupe?

How did I not know this?

- They're not bad.

Three straight regional
Yuck-Yucks, so, suck it, Steve.

Then, no.

You can't steal
turning-zombie-for-attention.

Wait, you do zombie sketches?

They kill. It's actually
a portfolio of sketches,

about living next door
to zombies.

We have this one bit called
"Dinner at the Deadman's"

where my human brother tries
to help me pray away the Zs.

So good.

It's so good.

Uh, we go all out,
too, you know.

Like white wigs,
zombie makeup.

So you paint your face and
appropriate another culture?

Oh. Never thought
about it that way.

- Cool.
- Yeah.

Whatever. I've got two hours
before my pregnant wife comes home

and realizes that I'm not there making
her tea and rubbing her back, so...

Hold... Hold on. Tell me
more about this sketch.

Well, okay, so...

What we like to
try to do is...

Thwack. Gorlogg lifts Mosco's
severed head in the air and shouts,

"I am Gorlogg!

Look at me. Look at me!"

Roll for initiative.

To hell with the police. They
ain't the ones getting blown up.

Blue lives matter?

Uh-uh.

White lives matter.

Hate to break it to you.
You're far from white, Spud.

Tell those Dead Enders
calling me "whitey."

Most humans
are decent people.

You sound like Lillywhite.

The commander is trying
to keep the peace.

We push humans too far,

and they're gonna look around and
decide that they'd rather die fighting

than live in a walled
zombie homeland.

- We could take 'em.
- You're an idiot.

- Take cover.
- Look out.

Up there.

How about these two?
John and David Mendez?

They have a father in San Diego
dying of cancer and a senile mother.

She'll be all on her own
once he passes.

And the brothers themselves?
They're healthy?

Mmm-hmm.

I'm going to hell.

Reject pile.

Commander.

Our squad was ambushed
in an alley off Hayes Street.

Sir...

Jordan didn't make it.

Give me Chase Graves
over Lillywhite any day.

- Oh, you can say that again.
- Yeah, he'll get his.

Yeah, you knew which
side he was on.

What do you think
flower-power'll do about it?

Put on some Bob Marley.

Bus in a few more
grief counselors.

Remind us how outnumbered
we are.

We need to clap back.

Before this can't-we-all-get-along
crap gets us all killed.

Excuse me, sir.

I can't help but notice that you've got
a high-powered rifle pointed at my skull.

I must warn you that if you
shoot me in the head,

I will then, and only then, be
given permission to return fire.

What?
You know I'm right.

You think your anger
makes you special, Spud?

When I found Jordan, she was digging brain
tubes out of bus station garbage cans.

I brought her here
and I trained her.

She died saving your sergeant.

What were you hiding behind when
she was putting herself in danger?

I know what Jordan's done
for her fellow zombie.

You, I'm not so sure about.

I'm... I'm asking you
to be smart.

Don't you get it?

They want to provoke violence.

Only 10% of the human
population wants a war.

CHICs. Dead Enders. Are you
gonna give them what they want?

Yes, some of us
are gonna die,

so that all of us don't die.

If that's not what you
signed up for, then go.

It goes for all of you.

Commander, if we catch
the shooter,

the people who made
that truck bomb,

what are you gonna do to them?

They'll be turned over
to the court system.

Human judges? Human juries?

It's the law.
It's what we do.

Okay, we are gonna have
zombie super strength.

How cool is that?

The next time someone asks us to
choose between the belt and the boot,

we can just rip
their arms off.

Coast is clear,
but stay on your toes.

There's lots of US Army
between us and Seattle.

Where do we meet
if we have to split up?

369 Molino Road.

Good.

A pint of ranch dressing
is 2,200 calories. FYI.

- Good to know. Thanks.
- It's just...

I know you like
ranch dressing.

I usually manage to avoid
having a pint in a sitting.

One more name
to cross off.

Why can't people just
answer their phones?

All units nearby,

shots fired at Warmbloods,
21807 Third Street.

- Warmbloods, that's close.

He was in a hurry.

- Seattle PD.

You got the wrong bar,
Renegade.

Let me stop the bleeding.

Don't touch me, Whitey.

I know what you are.

You heard the man, back off.

Your friend is dying. He
needs medical attention now.

I... I won't scratch him.
I promise.

Your kind's done enough damage already.
Get the hell out of here.

I suggest you step aside, or I'll place you
under arrest for obstructing an officer.

Let 'em through, Matty.

Nothing they can do now.

What do you know?

It was a drive-by.
Two people in masks.

How many casualties?

One.

Witnesses saw the shooter and the driver
take off in a blue Civic hatchback.

Matches with the vehicle we
saw racing off on our way over.

See if any of our guys
own a car like that.

Of course, Commander.

Hey, Commander.

How are you all gonna
cover this one up?

What are we gonna
hear on the news?

Eddie Diggs died
of natural causes.

He is survived by his wife
and two kids.

Ravi, no.
I'm exhausted.

I just watched a barbershop
quartet do Ebony and Ivory.

Two of them in whiteface.

You can tell me at home.

I'm still here,
but I'm walking out now.

Yes, this is me walking out.

This is me turning out
the lights,

locking up.

Oh, you lie!

Okay, you got me.

What is so important?

Are you still hearing
presentations?

I just finished, thank God.

You got time for one more?

Okay.

Psst.

- Stand right there.
- Yup.

Jimmy and his comedy troupe
do a...

Portfolio of sketches.

About a human couple living
next door to a zombie couple.

And there's laughs,
there's heart.

And guess what, you might
just learn a thing or two.

Great, now all we have to do is
convince millions of Americans

to cross the militarized
dead zone,

make it over the wall to the
zombie-controlled city of Seattle

and get themselves to...

Where do you perform, Jimmy?

Count McCackles'
Comedy Castle.

Yeah, see, I knew she wouldn't
see the potential.

Suits, man.

We... We produce the episodes,
we post them online.

The episodes go viral.

Viral's good.

Right. Think about what Will
& Grace did for gay people.

Or what The Cosby Show
did for...

Let's not use that example.

Crazy Rich Zombies.

Okay, I see your point.

Zombies?
They're just the folk next door.

The people you wave to
every day on your way to work.

Do you have a name for it?

Wait for it.

Hi, Zombie.

Hmm.

Jury's out on the name,
but I love the idea.

I mean, it's one of the best
I've heard all day.

How much does it cost?

- Hmm? Oh.

Something like that.

You know, uh, to build sets,

uh, hire a crew and a stage.

Why don't we just put the
first zombie on the moon, too?

Yeah.

- Here you go, hon.
- Thanks.

Did you hear about the
four dead at Warmbloods?

Four?

They said on the news
there was just one.

And you believe everything
they say on the news?

Those necros
downplay everything.

That poor woman outside
the convenience store?

I got a buddy down in
Chehalis, rolls with a crew.

Started running patrol shifts
to protect the border.

'Bout time someone's willing
to do something. Right?

...Lady, these boys
is locked and loaded.

Hell, some of 'em even use
bows and arrows.

Okay, well.

Let's hope they bring home
some scalps.

There she is.

Now, that is
a beautiful sight.

What?

Race you to the wall.

God, that kid's gullible.

- Whoo! Whoo!

Ha-ha-ha. Dicks.

I can't believe she ran
the whole way.

Go, go, go.
There's a bunch of 'em.

Get under the SUV.

- What about you?
- Just go!

Go!

Run. Run. Run. Don't stop!
Just go!

The kids
went that way.

Can you not?
It's a little distracting.

Distracting?

Oh, you mean these bad boys.

Feels good to let 'em breathe.

I'll take your word.

Come on, CB, we're police.

We have a right to bare arms.

Ah, there he is.

I'm sad to say that your final potential
murder victim is alive and well.

This picture was posted
yesterday by one of her friends.

That photo could have been
taken months ago

and posted by our killer.

But on closer inspection,

yesterday's footage of
the Warmblood shooting.

She can't be deceased.

You're welcome.

Over 70 phones, every one of their
owners alive and accounted for.

We should tell Bozzio.

Harris, you seen
the Lieutenant?

Uh, she's in interrogation
with another car club guy.

You watch the video of the murder
outside the convenience store?

Mmm-hmm.

The killers were
in a lowrider.

I get it.

You see a lowrider, you immediately
bring in the Latino, right?

Victor Ruiz. You are the founder
of Seattle Lowrider Consortium.

So?
That makes me a murderer?

You guys put on
a lot of car shows?

Oh, you're saying I consort
with murderers, then?

Your word.

Recognize this car?

Yeah, I know that car.

But you're not gonna find
the guy who owns it.

He left Seattle before
the wall went up.

I know where the car is,
though.

You having a vision?

I'm Kegeling.

Pelvic floor.

Tragically overlooked
muscle group.

See what I did there, Clive?

Lift with your legs.
Back flat.

Ah. I think this is our car.

Detective school
is really paying off.

Exposed wires from the steering
column indicate hot-wiring.

Sorry, traffic.
What'd I miss?

Good lord.

Uh... So,
I've got some weird news.

Oh, you and Peyton tried the
soak-and-stare technique.

Uh, no.

The DNA results came back from the
blood taken from the convenience store.

- Were they able to identify the victim?
- Not yet.

But there was blood from
a dozen people, all human,

not a drop was zombie.

Well, we still need
to test this blood.

Hmm.

Strange.

I'm gonna puke.

Don't.

It's corn syrup.

What?

Hey, bros,
this look familiar?

A wig.

Looks like detective classes
are paying off for all of us.

Oh, just like the victim's hair
in the convenience store video.

- It's corn syrup.
- Nice work, Ravi.

Thank you.

You just ate 57
empty calories.

So, the video was a hoax.

No one's dead?

Every person whose cell phone
pinged the tower at the time

is still alive
and accounted for.

The corn syrup blood in the
car's a pretty dead giveaway.

And the blood found at the convenience
store was from multiple people.

All humans.

We also found a wig that
matches the victim's hairstyle.

What kind of a sicko
fakes a zombie attack?

Someone who wants
to see the city burn.

I'll call a press conference.

Expose the video as a fake.

And what are you gonna say?

"Hey, everybody, the video you saw of
two zombies ripping a woman to shreds,"

it never happened.

Oh, and we don't know
who's behind the false flag,

"so, just take our
word for it."

Well, Major, it has
the advantage of being true.

Well, the truth's
not gonna cut it.

Look, our words won't
trump their images, okay?

People saw a murder.

All right? If we're gonna
claim it was a hoax,

we gotta put some meat
on the bone.

What are you suggesting?

We get people to confess.

Say they fabricated
the murder.

They wanna stir up zombie hate
with fake news, fine.

We'll fight them
on their terms.

And you expect Seattle PD
to get behind this?

Only if it wants to keep
its homicide rate in check.

Are you sure about this,
Major?

There's gonna be a lot of heat on
whoever takes the fall for this.

We need to get them out of Seattle,
and we'll have to do it discreetly.

Liv?

What?

No.

I wanna live in your world.

Peyton, Lieutenant,
expect my instructions.

Voila. Officers Chris Tader
and Buddy Jackson.

Jackson owns
the blue hatchback.

And residue shows
Tader fired his weapon.

Both have confessed.

Couldn't keep it in
your pants, huh, Spud?

They resisted.

I didn't shoot anyone
who didn't deserve it.

And you're judge
and jury now?

Well, someone's gotta be,
Ol' Softy.

That is your Commander,
soldier!

Chase Graves is my commander.

Your move, Commander.

Have they said anything yet?

Very little.
They're waiting for you.

Renegade.

Where's Baron?

Where's Baron?

He's gone.

We thought we made it.

We were at the wall, and...

These two hitched along.
Bad foster home situation.

Can... Can Oliver get
a scratch?

He's very sick.

It was at this intersection,
that a mystery woman,

now identified
as Cynthia Rybnicki,

was brutally murdered
by two zombies.

Or was she?

Today the Seattle Police
Department arrested Miss Rybnicki

along with brothers John and David
Mendez for perpetrating a hoax.

A hoax intended to stir up
anti-zombie sentiment.

As they were brought in
for processing,

Miss Rybnicki gave a defiant hand
sign associated with the Dead Enders,

-a zombie hate group.

The Mendez brothers
and Miss Rybnicki

confessed when presented
with the evidence.

If anything, they seemed proud of
the damage they'd done to the city.

How much time
will they get?

The DA promised me it would be
no less than 15 years.

While the group is under fire for
stoking anti-zombie fear in Seattle,

they also remain embroiled
in a tragedy of their own.

Helen.

Two days ago,
patrons of Warmbloods,

rumored to be a Dead Ender
watering hole,

were enjoying happy hour when
bullets ripped through this window,

injuring three
and killing one.

Today we learn the fates
of those drive-by shooters.

Yesterday, we received
this footage,

secretly recorded and smuggled out of
a Fillmore Graves downtown warehouse.

The same source identified the two
men as Chris Tader and Buddy Jackson.

Commander, is that you
in the video, Commander?

And didn't you promise that the
Guillotine is a thing of the past?

I promised that Fillmore
Graves will police itself.

When my soldiers break
the law, they pay a price.

Every human and zombie in the city
would be wise to understand that.

Hell of a performance.

- And there you have it.
- You think it'll work?

You think they'll keep quiet?

They're getting what they want.
Passage out of the city.

They're incredibly grateful.

Thanks for getting them out.

It's what I do.

Why'd you change your mind?

I was already living
in your world.

I just didn't know it yet.

You're both sure?

Just like I said.

All in the eyes.

What would happen if you had
two spoonfuls of trout butter?

I don't know, but I'd be
afraid to find out.

So...

How'd you get the money?

- What?
- For Hi, Zombie. Production costs, etcetera.

Ever heard of
the Space Needle?

Rings a bell.

I sold the naming rights.

Can the chief of staff to
a dead mayor do that?

Oh, God, no.

No, I figured I've got three,
four months before I'm discovered,

the scandal breaks and
my career bites the dust.

So, why?

Because I'm not sure
we survive three months

if we just sit back
and do nothing.

I've been to DC, Ravi,

and they're looking for an
excuse to wipe us off the map.

I have never loved you more

than in this moment.

Not even 45 seconds ago
when we were...

Okay.

This moment is a close second.

Just,
I can't believe it.

I mean, that was us.

I mean, we did that.

- Shh!
- It was your plan.

And the TV lied.

Who were those people?

Patsies.

People our dear Commander
found to play the part.

That was my part.

We have to tell people
they've been duped.

And we know that how, because
we duped people first?

Dolly, just, please...

No, no, no. I need you
to say this with me.

"Dolly. I won't tell anyone."

Okay. Okay. Fine.
I hear you.

It's just that I stole blood
from a hospital for this.

You know, I flailed around that car
like a damned epileptic, and for what?

Everything they said on TV
is fake news.

People have got to know.

We've got to tell them, Dolly.

You seem a little
worked up, hon.

Um, why don't you let
Benny drive you home?

Take an Epsom bath.
Treat yourself.

You know, you deserve it.

- Yeah.
- Does Benny come with that?

Well, that's up to Benny.

Oh. Okay.