Original subtitles

(chainsaw revving)

(pedestrians shrieking)

You gotta be kidding me!

Hey!

You're dead, kid! You hear me?!

You're frigging dead!

(horns honk, tires squeal)

(indistinct radio transmission, camera shutter snaps)

I knew I shouldn't have done the Stairmaster this morning.

It's a long way down.

It's even longer coming up, trust me.

130 steps.

I finally counted after the third trip.

DANVILLE: Well, he's in more pain than I am.

The satchel belongs to our vic I found his I.D. inside.

His name's Greg Barbera. 26 years old.

Some kind of robbery?

Cash and cards were still in his wallet.

You said there were witnesses?

Not on the stairs, but a couple of passersby

saw him being chased down Fort Washington

before he turned the corner and wound up here.

They described the guy chasing him

as male, early 30s, about five-eight, medium build,

wearing some kind of red jacket.

This kid took one hell of a fall.

The question is, was he pushed?

Looks like we'll have to back up a few steps

to figure that out.

♪ Out here in the fields ♪

♪ I fight for my meals ♪

♪ I get my back into my living ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. ♪

♪♪

Morning, Mac.

Looks like our vic sustained significant injuries:

elevated skull fractures,

signs of vertebral compression, compound breaks

to the clavicle and femur,

dislocated wrists and ankles.

I have his chart right over here.

- Hawkes. - Yeah?

- You're covering. - Covering?

Where's Sid?

Sid? Uh...

Well, um, apparently,

he's just running a little late again today.

That's the third time this week. What's going on?

You know, I really don't know, Mac.

All his staff could tell me is

that he wouldn't be here till later this afternoon.

So we don't have a preliminary autopsy report

of any kind for Greg Barbera?

- No, not yet. - Means we still don't know

whether his death was an accident or murder.

No. But judging by the shape that this kid is in,

if I still had Sid's job and had to answer that question,

I'd probably take the day off, too.

I see you got left holding the bag.

Wouldn't be the first time.

Oh, the purple wad

that you found?

It's violet-flavored gum.

Violet flavor?

Like the flower?

Yep. Makes for a nice bubble bath,

but I don't think I'd want to chew it.

I don't remember seeing this at my local newsstand.

Wonder where it's from.

I don't know, but I can tell you

that it is not Greg Barbera's.

I got foreign male DNA from saliva trace.

- No hit in CODIS. - Okay.

What about all these packages?

These are scheduled deliveries

from a company called Boroughstar Courier Service.

According to the contact I spoke to,

Greg Barbera has been a bike messenger there

for the past two years.

That's weird. If he's a bike messenger,

where's the bike?

All of our witnesses saw him running on foot.

Did they happen to give you a schedule

of his stops for the day?

Yes, they did.

Okay, if I understand this correctly,

9:00 a.m., he had a pickup in Midtown.

10:00 a.m., he was to have a drop-off downtown.

So what was he doing all the way up

in Washington Heights at 9:30?

Clearly something that wasn't on the schedule.

Oh, are you serious? $3.99?

What do you want from me?

(phone rings)

Hello, Mac Taylor.

Christine, did I get you at a bad time?

No, perfect, actually.

How do I murder a produce guy and get away with it?

Well, you could always hit him over the head with a coconut,

but you'd be better off using that for a piña colada.

(chuckles): Yeah.

Point very well taken.

Besides, overpriced coconuts probably warrant something

closer to a misdemeanor

rather than a full-blown felony, right?

Yeah. Hey, uh, listen, I've got something I want to give you.

Oh, what's that?

Well, it's kind of

a long story. Is there someplace we could meet?

Yeah, sure. I'm on my way to work after this.

Why don't I text you the address, and you can stop by,

say, around 7:00?

Great. I'll see you then.

All right, so I got us fully tapped into

the new NYPD Counter-terrorism Surveillance system here.

Then let's try to review street cam footage

from the time and area where witnesses reported seeing

Greg Barbera being chased.

Okay. We don't have an angle on the stairs

where his body was found,

but we can at least start there and then back up

to a video feed of adjacent streets.

Assailant was described as early 30s;

medium build; five feet, eight inches tall; wearing red.

Okay, red is good. I can work with that.

So, all the objects or individuals wearing red

will be isolated.

All right. Now let's focus on Fort Washington Avenue

where the bulk of our witnesses

saw Greg Barbera being chased.

Stop there.

That's Barbera.

And this guy is clearly in pursuit.

Then let's get a better look at him.

Big Brother's watching you, buddy.

TAYLOR: All right, let's try to sharpen that image

and then run the facial recognition software.

Come on.

-(computer beeps) - Scott Perfito.

Priors for narcotics trafficking

and outstanding warrant for possession.

All right. We know who you are.

(typing)

And boom, now we know where you are.

(indistinct radio transmission)

Scott Perfito! NYPD!

(running footsteps, clattering)

Fire escape!

(gasps)

(grunts)

Karma's a bitch.

I should be in a hospital resting.

They already gave you a clean bill of health

and released you into our custody, Mr. Perfito.

Well, my arm still hurts

and my head hurts, too.

How about your pride?

That must be smarting a bit.

What is that supposed to mean?

It means we found almost

a half a kilo of cocaine in your apartment.

Believe me, that's not how it looks.

Oh, we do believe you

because it's not all coke.

In fact, the last batch you pulled

from this delivery envelope was a combo of baby formula,

caffeine, and lidocaine.

We found traces of the same in Greg Barbera's delivery bag.

Now why do you think that is?

I look like a scientist?

No, but I am.

The baby formula gave it the right look and consistency.

The lidocaine was to make your gums numb.

And that pharmaceutical-grade caffeine was there

to give you a good solid buzz.

Which probably lasted just long enough for Greg

to grab the money and run, right?

He sold you a bag of fake drugs.

What if he did?

It ain't a crime to buy bogus blow.

No, but between your outstanding warrant and the few ounces

of real cocaine we found in your apartment, you're done.

And then you had to go and kill the guy.

I didn't kill him!

Did you or did you not chase down Greg Barbera

after he'd delivered the goods?

Yeah, of course I chased him.

What the hell was I supposed to do?

The bastard took my money!

Quit running, kid. You're only making it worse!

And then you pushed him down the 187th Street stairs.

No, I didn't.

- Oh, come on. - I'm telling you I didn't.

He made it about 20 feet down, and then

he totally patched out.

Fell the rest of his way on his own without any help from me.

And then what?

Then I took my damn money back.

FLACK: And...?

And I got the hell out of there.

You didn't think to call

-for any kind of help? - Help? For him?

He was a double-crossing bitch who stole three grand

and got exactly what was coming to him.

(sirens wailing)

(indistinct radio transmission)

DANNY: Vic's name is Jimmy Philbrook.

He was spotted by a group of Inwood Hill nature enthusiasts.

I'm thinking they're probably not so enthusiastic anymore.

That's painful.

Yeah.

I don't know how he ended up this far off the path.

I found his wallet 30 yards back that way

next to some loose soil and erratic shoe print patterns.

Could be initial signs of a struggle.

Yeah, that's not the half of it.

Here, get a load of this.

- He was also strangled. - Yeah.

So did that kill him?

Or was it the arrow?

DANNY: All right, so,

I followed one series of footprints that look

like they could be a possible match to our vic's.

Lead back about a hundred yards to the jogging path.

- You find any other tracks? - There was a second set

of partials near the path, disturbances in the soil

indications of a fall.

So I'm thinking that this guy might've been attacked

back there, and then

stumbled over here.

Then what? The attacker shoots him with an arrow?

And that's where things get a little shady here. I mean,

if you're gonna choke a guy, choke him; why go halfway

and then finish him

-with a bow and arrow? - Yeah.

LINDSAY: Well, I can't tell you why,

but I can tell you where the arrow came from.

(mechanical humming)

So, is that our shooter's perch?

Looks that way.

(thud, groans)

LINDSAY: It's hard to climb a tree like this

without leaving epithelials behind.

Climbed a lot of trees

back in Montana, didn't you?

Damn straight, city boy.

Was that before or after you started cow tipping?

(fake laughter)

Wow.

- What? - Is that a snake?

Where? What?

♪ My friends, they get me higher and higher ♪

♪ They're killing me with friendly fire ♪

♪ We meet beneath the cactus tree ♪

♪ They're walking on spikes, just ain't for me ♪

♪ My friends ain't got to worry more ♪

♪ They meet outside the corner store ♪

♪ I walk the pavement, miss the cracks ♪

♪ I'd join them if I could relax ♪

♪ Hang it up, you can hang it up ♪

♪ This time maybe you can hang it up ♪

♪ Hang it up, you can hang it up ♪

♪ This time maybe you can hang it up ♪

♪ Hang it up, you can hang it up ♪

♪ This time maybe you can hang it up! ♪

-(beeps) - LINDSAY: Oseltamivir.

That's an anti-viral medication.

I found it on the back of this foil

that I got off the tree branch.

My guess is it was part of a pill packet.

Got transferred by the shooter's boot.

Maybe he was being treated for the flu.

All right, well, based on what you've just told me

and what I'm seeing here, our shooter

is sick, Linds.

And not just

with the flu.

I'm afraid my report on Greg Barbera's death

is inconclusive.

So it really was an accident.

I'm not saying that, I'm just saying

in spite of multiple fractures and contusions

caused during Barbera's fall

down the stairs,

there's simply no post-mortem proof

that he was pushed.

And no clear indications

this was a homicide.

So we can only hold Perfito

on his warrant and possession charge.

Any other good news you want to share?

Sorry, Mac.

That's all I can tell you right now.

Okay.

- Thanks, Sid. - Yeah.

Did you get it out of him?

Sid's not talking anything but business.

Oh, don't worry. I'll get him to talk.

Dr. Hammerback, nice to see your shining face.

Tell me what's going on.

Uh...

well, unfortunately, I don't have

anything too conclusive to share about Mr. Philbrook.

Uh, the arrow pierced his sternum

and collapsed his right lung,

which, between blood loss

and respiratory distress

could've proven fatal

without immediate medical attention.

But?

But, as your team correctly surmised on the scene,

he was also strangled from behind

just before being shot.

I managed to tweeze some minuscule trace

from one of the jagged abrasions around his neck.

And I also found some latent partial fingerprints

around the back of his neck that could have been left

in the struggle.

The point being,

the resulting internal injuries

suffered by Mr. Philbrook included a crushed trachea.

Which could've proven fatal

without immediate medical attention.

So, we still don't know

whether it's death

by strangulation or by arrow.

I'm grasping at straws,

but maybe this will help?

DANVILLE: That looks similar to the violet gum

I pulled from Greg Barbera's satchel.

Only I pulled it off Jimmy Philbrook's molars.

It's probably just a coincidence.

Well, when it comes to crime, there are no coincidences.

Well, I'll stay focused on our two potential

C.0.D.s to see if I can sort out which one

might've had the upper hand in Philbrook's death.

Good.

Then I can focus on you.

Me?

Yeah, Sid, you've been absent from work all week.

- Oh, well... - You're sweating like a pig.

You've been rubbing your palms together

like you're trying to start a fire.

And you've done that little thing

with your glasses about a half dozen times

since I walked in here.

It's Profiling 101.

You're a nervous wreck.

(sighs)

Come on, tell me what's going on.

Uh, no, my, uh, attorneys and accountants

told me not to say anything.

Well, with all due respect, Sid,

your attorneys and your accountants aren't your friends.

(exhales)

Uh...

it's the Hammerback Sleeper.

I give you... the Hammerback Sleeper.

"You'll sleep like a corpse"?

It's an experimental pillow I've developed

after years of working in the M.E.'s Office.

I've heard about it.

What's the problem?

I just sold the patent this morning.

Well, congratulations.

- That's good, isn't it? - Oh, yeah.

Um, it was purchased by a Japanese firm.

Apparently, they're going to market it

-as an anti-snoring pillow. - Anti-snoring, huh?

God, I could've used that with my ex-husband.

I would've paid dearly for that.

(choking UP) Yep.

That's pretty much what they did.

Sid, are you okay? Uh...

Actually, no.

I'm , um

incredible.

Jo, they bought my patent...

for $27 million.

What?

I'm a very rich man

and-and I have no idea

what to do about it.

Okay, okay, all right.

Okay, well, the first-first thing you need to do is breathe.

(breathing heavily)

Please don't say anything.

- Don't tell anyone. - Okay, I won't, I promise.

But Sid, even if this is overwhelming,

it's still amazing.

You earned it, and when you...

Breathe, breathe.

- Okay. -Okay, and after you finish breathing,

you got to do one more thing.

What's that?

You got to celebrate.

(chuckling)

Oh, that's so great!

This place has seen better days, huh?

Jimmy Philbrook was the landlord here?

Yeah, the building just got condemned,

which means the artists living here

are gonna be out on the street.

Could be a long line of people that want this guy dead.

Let's start with the building's super.

-(horn plays jazz melody) -(indistinct conversations)

Yeah, he's down on the end, bro.

(classical music plays)

(knocking)

It's open.

Toby Delafont, you the super?

Yeah.

You the cops?

Yeah, we're the cops.

Well, listen, man, I know we got to go.

But we've still got another few days in this place.

So if you don't mind, I got to keep trying

to make rent money while I still can.

Yeah, well, we're not here about the eviction.

We're here to talk about Jimmy Philbrook.

Oh.

I take it you don't want to sign

-the sympathy card? - I'm sorry.

It's just that that guy pissed off a lot of people

around here, myself included.

- How's that? - Because

the Cragston Hotel is more

than just a building; it's a community.

And we don't just live here; we create here.

(sizzles, grunts)

Yeah,

we can see that.

Yeah, well, Jimmy didn't.

Maybe it's because

he lived across town, or maybe he just didn't care.

All I know is I did my best to make repairs

and pass on the residents' complaints.

He did his best to ignore every bit of it.

Looks like someone finally got his attention.

Yeah, you think anyone here was angry enough

to do more than just complain?

Nah.

Anyone in here

work with bows and arrows?

A violin bow, maybe.

Like I said, we're artists.

We're not really the violent type.

♪♪

♪♪

Come on. Come on...

Hey. Any luck on figuring out

what was used to strangle Jimmy Philbrook?

Well, as a matter of fact, yes.

Based on these evenly-spaced ridges along the ligature marks

and that tiny plastic sliver Sid tweezed out of them,

I'd say it was definitely some type of zip tie.

Trouble is, I can't seem to find a local source

for one in that bright orange color.

How about you?

You get anywhere with those partial prints

we got off the back of Philbrook's neck?

Sadly, no hits in AFIS.

And there were no identifiable prints on the arrow either.

- Well, is it some kinda special make? -Nope.

It's pretty much your typical aluminum shaft hunting arrow.

You can find it at any sporting goods store in New York.

But I did find something on the tip that's kinda funky.

HAWKES: Human, raccoon, and duck blood?

Yeah, the human blood is a match to Philbrook.

But the blood from the other animals

would suggest that our shooter used this arrow before.

But why switch from small game to humans?

I don't know.

While I'm waiting for the CDC to call me back

about the viral trace I found on the tree branch,

thought I'd call the Parks Department, maybe see if they

have any arrests for illegal hunting.

Yeah, might help us target our killer.

Hey... Mac.

Hey, Christine.

Nice place. Is it yours?

Yeah. Uh, I've been open about six months.

As you can see, it's standing room only.

Yeah, well, the restaurant business is a tough racket.

Well, I've been through worse.

Can I fix you something to eat?

No, no, I-I can't stay. I, uh...

...just came by to give you this.

Oh, wow.

(laughs) You shouldn't have, really.

Yeah, I know.

Uh, the thing is, I stole it from your brother.

Every time Stan and I made a collar

we'd have all this paperwork to fill out,

and when we got back to the precinct,

somehow, we'd never have enough pens.

When one guy would have one, the other guy

would inevitably steal it.

So eventually Stan got wise.

And, uh, he was trying to quit smoking...

Stan was trying to quit smoking?

Mm-hmm. So...

he started to chew on this.

Needless to say, I never stole it again

till after he was gone.

Stan always had a great sense of humor.

And great friends.

Thanks for that, Mac.

It's really nice to see you again.

Yeah, it's-it's nice to see you, too.

But, hey, duty calls.

Um, before you go, let me just give you this.

Shrimp Diavolo.

It's my specialty. Someone else ordered it.

Are you sure?

Yeah, please. I have plenty of time to make another one.

Can I get you something to drink?

Uh, yeah, coffee.

Okay. I got it. Thanks.

Aw, thank you.

- Oh, that smells so good. - Yeah.

Don't worry. I got two forks.

All right. We're going to have to eat it on the run.

I just hung up with Lindsay.

According to prescription trace and epithelial DNA

that she and Danny collected from Inwood Hill Park,

whoever shot our second victim

Jimmy Philbrook with that arrow, is suffering from H7N2.

Isn't that a strain of avian flu?

Yes. Most human contraction

comes from handling infected dead birds or fluids.

It's not easily transmitted from person to person,

but it can still be fatal.

Right, but the CDC tracks every reported case.

And right now...

there is exactly one case in the entire United States.

Nicholas Bristow?

NYPD.

(man coughing)

DANVILLE: Mr. Bristow?

Mr. Bristow?

We're here with the CDC.

We'd like a word with you.

(coughing)

I don't feel like talking right now.

(coughing continues)

A five-point buck?

They actually have those in New York City?

According to Fish & Game.

As the city moves outward, the deer move inward for food.

They've been sighted in Queens, Staten Island,

and as we now know, in Inwood Hill.

From what we got from the hospital,

Bristow had been illegally hunting small animals

in various parts of Manhattan for years.

But he claimed he'd been

tracking this particular deer for two weeks straight.

Said he finally had the perfect shot

all lined up.

And just as he was about to let

the arrow fly... a fatal sneeze.

(grunts)

And Bristow had no idea what he'd done.

So that's it? It was an accident?

It's just like Greg Barbera falling down the stairs.

(cell phone ringing)

Flack.

Trouble is, like with Scott Perfito,

we can't charge Nicholas Bristow with murder

-until we know he's guilty of it. -SID: He wasn't.

The arrow didn't pierce any of Philbrook's major blood vessels.

I measured the amount of blood

that soaked into his tracksuit from the wound

and compared it to the blood

still present in his body, postmortem.

The fact is, Jimmy Philbrook

only lost around a liter of blood,

which wouldn't have stopped his heart from beating.

But a crushed trachea would.

Exactly. Because Mr. Philbrook's

windpipe had already been badly crushed by the time he was shot,

the arrow only added insult to an already fatal injury.

It's my final ruling that his cause of death

was asphyxiation due to tracheo-bronchial trauma.

So we're back to the zip tie.

And Flack... just may have a lead.

FLACK: When I told my guys to be on the lookout

for bright orange zip ties, you can imagine

some of the witty responses I got.

Then a couple hours ago, some beat cop calls me all excited.

I came down here to check it out for myself.

Apparently, it's the latest fad in public art.

Any idea who's responsible for all this?

Yes, as a matter of fact.

An artist by the name of Patty Leonard.

All due respect to her zip tie cacti,

what I find most interesting

is the address on her permit.

Cragston Hotel.

- The place where Philbrook was landlord. -Yeah.

And after being evicted, Miss Leonard was pretty upset.

Upset enough to kill Philbrook?

Maybe.

FLACK: But she's under five feet tall,

hundred pounds soaking wet.

He would've flicked her off like a fly.

She did volunteer a set of her prints

on the mobile scanner, though, and I sent 'em off to the lab.

Good.

Once you close these things, you gotta cut 'em open.

Once they're cut, they wouldn't be long enough

to strangle someone.

Patty tell you where she keeps her unused stock?

Yeah, back in her room at the hotel.

- Any roommates? - No.

And, again, that place has quite the open door policy.

Well, maybe someone helped themselves to a murder weapon.

(sighs): Come on.

Don't you hate it when that happens?

More than you know.

But we can definitely rule out our zip tie artist

strangling the landlord.

Patty Leonard's prints don't match the partials Sid found

on Jimmy Philbrook's neck.

Well, what if they aren't partials?

It makes sense that they would be.

You know, it's hard to leave a full fingerprint

during that kind of struggle, especially skin-on-skin.

It's true. But look at this partial thumb-print right there.

I mean, it looks like there's pretty even contact everywhere

but across the palmar surface.

Yeah, I see what you mean.

It could be a full print with some kinda void.

But caused by what?

Tissue damage? Some kind of scarring?

Because the Cragston Hotel is more than just a building.

And we don't just live here; we create here.

(sizzles, grunts)

Boom.

♪♪

(phone line ringing)

Hey, Danny, it is Toby Delafont.

How you doing, Toby?

I want you to put that down nice and slowly,

turn around, put your hands behind your back.

You're under arrest for the murder of Jimmy Philbrook.

(indistinct shouting)

- Drop it! - Back off!

Drop it! Hey!

I said drop it!

(hissing)

(siren wailing in distance)

WOMAN: Yeah, I've got somebody on it right now.

Jimmy Philbrook told me the Cragston Hotel was

about to be condemned by Building and Safety.

- That sounds like the truth to me. -Yeah, but he

also said we didn't have to worry about it,

that he had a contact on the inside

who could make the whole problem go away.

- Oh, yeah? who? - Some guy named Doug,

I think.

Yeah, Doug Kramer.

Anyway, I did what Jimmy

asked me to: I took up a collection

from the residents, told them it was for repairs.

But it was really for a bribe.

Even put 500 bucks of my own into the pot.

I came up with $15,000 cash, and I gave

every last dime of it to that lying son of a bitch!

FLACK: And so what, Philbrook didn't pay the bribe?

Oh, he claimed he did.

He gave me some BS about

hiring a messenger to pick up

the cashier's check and get it to Building and Safety

before some 11:00 hearing.

But then they slapped those notices on our front door anyway

and the money is still nowhere to be found!

So what can I tell you? It just pissed me off!

(excited chatter)

(excited chatter continues)

(clamoring)

I called Jimmy.

I told him we needed to talk, but he said he was going jogging

in Inwood Hill and would have to call me back.

Can you believe that?

We've all just been thrown out on the street,

he's going out for a jog?

Screw that!

What'd you do with the money, Jimmy?

I told you, I paid it!

I don't believe you!

You're trying to make me look like the bad guy!

-(grunting) -And I don't like how that feels!

Do you? Huh?

Do you like how that feels, Jimmy?

You killed him.

He killed us!

And none of it would have happened

if he delivered what he promised.

DANVILLE That's it.

♪♪

♪♪

Okay, I hope y'all are taking notes.

First of all, I could not

stop thinking about these two pieces

of violet-flavored gum

because I couldn't wrap my head around how they wound up

in Jimmy Philbrook's mouth and on Greg Barbera's satchel.

So I went back to the schedule from the courier service

that Greg worked for,

and it turns out that

his first pickup of the day

was across from a little diner in Chelsea

right around the corner from the Cragston Hotel.

Who'd he pick up from?

Jimmy Philbrook.

And guess what the diner has

in a little dish next to the cash register?

- Violet gum. - Bingo.

♪♪

But there was something else that kept bugging me,

because Greg Barbera is a bike messenger, right?

So why did he run from Scott Perfito?

Where on earth was his bike?

So I went back and looked at the NYPD

surveillance footage one more time.

Look what I spotted about a hundred yards

ahead of both of them.

Guy on a bike.

Yes, but not just any bike.

It matches the exact description supplied to us

from the courier service that Greg worked for.

And look what's hanging from the handlebars.

A chain saw.

Could've been used to cut down the fallen tree

outside of Scott Perfito's apartment.

TAYLOR: Where Greg probably locked up his bike.

(bystanders clamoring)

Greg's bike was stolen, so he had to run from Perfito on foot.

HAWKES: Which caused him

to fall down the stairs.

And due to Greg's untimely death, he wasn't able

to deliver this.

Doug Kramer-- that's the name of the Building and Safety official

who was supposed to accept the bribe

-from Jimmy Philbrook. - For 15 grand.

FLACK: But since he didn't get it,

he ruled to condemn the Cragston Hotel at the B&S meeting.

(excited chatter)

Yes. Which we all know...

drove our super,

Toby Delafont, into a murderous rage.

Do you like how that feels, Jimmy?

(grunting)

He attacked Philbrook in the park, leaving him for dead.

Right, and then Philbrook wandered

further into the woods right into

the path of Nicholas Bristow's arrow.

(grunts)

That's the craziest thing

I've ever heard, but it actually makes sense.

One crime leads to another.

And another.

- And another. - And another.

And that, ladies and gentlemen,

is known as the Ripple Effect.

♪♪

(indistinct conversations)

♪♪

♪♪

Thanks, Alex.

♪♪

(piano playing melody to "Heart and Soul")

♪♪

- Sid... -(playing stops)

Jo. Look-- I bought a piano.

Yeah, I can see that.

Well, I took your advice and decided to celebrate.

Well, that's great.

(chuckles)

But, um... why did you have them

deliver it here?

Well...

I guess it was a little impulsive,

but there's no way it'll fit into my eighth-floor apartment.

I guess I'll just have to get a new one of those, too.

Yeah, I guess so.

(resumes melody)

- Can I ask you something else, though? -Sure.

Do you even play the piano?

Not really.

(laughs)

Well, then scoot over.

Uh...

-(laughs) Okay- - Okay.

(Jo plays accompaniment to "Heart and Soul")

(Sid playing melody)