Original subtitles

So...

I had a really nice night tonight.

Yeah, me too.

Glad you called.

I should... probably go inside.

Yeah, yeah. Let's go inside.

You know what I mean.

Whoa. Hey. Hey. Come on.

I said I had a nice night, so...

Yes. I get it.

- Call me tomorrow? - Okay.

Good night, Travis.

Good night.

Hey! Watch it.

Ah!

[breathes heavily, growls]

[growls]

[screams]

One year ago...

vampires, werewolves, and zombies...

descended upon California's San Fernando Valley.

Authorities remain baffled by their origins.

♪ love is nasty 'cause it gets so rotten ♪

♪ I think it's time to put this body in the ground ♪

♪ oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ♪

♪ we're losing all control ♪

♪ the buildings all turn to dust ♪

♪ and I think it's getting closer ♪

Death Valley S01E07: "Who, What, When, Werewolf... Why?"

Sync and corrected: www.addic7ed.com

Okay, people, looks like we have ourselves

a werewolf to apprehend.

Pierce, Stubeck, I want you guys on this.

- Why not me and Carla? - Yeah.

Because for the month,

Stubeck and pierce have 11 werewolves

to you and Rinaldi's 6.

'Cause you give them the good leads, captain.

I assign the leads randomly,

and excuses are the nails

used to build a house of failure.

- What? - Officer Landry,

I understand this werewolf attack happened on your block.

Well, you're welcome to stay at my place

until this whole thing blows over.

Um, I-I think I'll be okay.

And moving on...

I just received word

that the L.A. Department of Sanitation

failed to sign a new contract today,

so they are officially on strike.

Yeah, what does that mean?

What that means is that each and every one of you

is responsible for collecting and disposing

of your own zombie kills.

Can we keep the zombies?

No, we can't keep them. Of course not.

And final piece of business,

it is officer Carla Rinaldi's birthday today.

[mexican accent] Happy Birthday, Carla.

- That's my Carla. - Happy Birthday.

That's my Carla.

She's not saying what birthday,

but, uh, I would gather

that it's probably been a couple years

since your quinceañera. Am I right, Rinaldi?

Captain, you know I'm not hispanic, right?

If I did, I sure as hell I wouldn't tell you.

Anyway, let's throw a little extra love Carla's way.

Let's make sure it's appropriate love.

No full-mouth kissing, no crotch mashing.

Any of you sacks want to give Carla a hug,

you bend at the waist like an A-frame house.

Damn right, captain.

All right, now, let's get out there and kill something.

Hey, remember earlier

when I told you not to look at that S.U.V. next to us

with the tinted windows, and then you looked anyway?

Yeah, I thought you were pointing out some side-boob.

Naturally. Anyway, when the driver

went to flick his cigarette out the window,

I caught a glimpse of him,

and it was the same vamp

that jumped me outside the bar a couple weeks ago.

- Are you sure? - I'm positive.

Did you get the plates?

- Ah, yeah. - Mm-Hmm.

Only question now is, Stu,

what are we gonna do about it?

We don't do anything.

Captain wants us on this werewolf case.

We're gonna sit tight until we can talk to him later.

- Don't give me that look. - What?

That's the look you give me when you're gonna do something

that I directly asked you not to do.

Promise me you won't go after these guys alone.

All right, Stu, I promise.

Pinkie swear?

I pinkie swear.

I'm a dad. I take pinkie swears seriously.

- I know you do, partner. - All right.

All right. Got it.

Hey, captain.

Sorry to bother you, but can I run a license plate?

Anyways, I just showed up at, uh, this police department.

No, the Undead Task Force?

Yeah, I'd give it about a "D," solid "D" minus.

B.T. Dubs, not that I pay taxes,

but if I did, psh, I would be pissed.

All right, pal. I'll see you later.

Hey. Can I help you?

Uh, hey, yes. Please.

I'm--I'm looking for "Kiersten"?

Kirsten.

Yeah, I just wanted to drop off her jacket.

She... she left it in my car,

uh, the other night, so I just wanted to, you know...

Yeah, uh...

she's busy. She can't come out right now.

Okay... dad.

- Well, gee golly. - Thanks.

- Pass that on to her. - I will.

Maybe I should write a note or...?

- Nope. - No? Maybe not?

Okay, well...

Do I know you from somewhere?

Yeah, I'm... I'm the bassist for Plastic Organ.

- Oh. - Uh, Six Inches Soft?

Handicapped Stalls?

Otis Gay and The Civil Rights?

- Nursery Crimes? - Mm-Mm.

- Cancel The Pants? - Definitely not.

Those are just some of the bands I dabble in.

You probably don't listen to that music anyways.

Probably don't get out of the valley often.

No, no, I leave the valley from time to time.

Okay, well, thank you, uh, captain Stubeck.

- You realize I kill things. - [laughs]

Well, you're sure as hell not a comedian, pal.

I'll see you later.

Hey, that's not a door.

[clears throat]

[coughs]

- Hey. - Hey.

Uh, some creepy hipster dropped this off for you.

Travis! Is he still outside?

No, I, uh, think he had several calls to make.

And he's not a creep.

Okay, well, I don't trust him.

Okay.

What's with the facial-hair thing?

I mean, he doesn't have a beard, but he's not clean-shaven.

Personally, I think you should pick one and go with it.

Oh, I kind of like his scruff.

Don't worry. You'll like him.

We should all go out and see his band sometime.

All right.

Hey, uh, kind of seemed like he had greek features.

Is he greek?

Travis Flynn.

I don't think so.

Yeah.

Travis Flynn.

Do you realize once you kill this zombie,

we're gonna have to put her in the car,

drive her all around town with us

until we get to the precinct, right?

You do know that.

Yeah. So?

What are you proposing?

I'm saying call Billy and Stubeck on this one.

Let them handle it...

unless these idiots here are gonna tell on us, huh?

John-John. I'll tell on you.

Damn.

What?

She'll get it.

Nice shot, girl.

I hate when that happens.

Why? She's just a zombie.

I'm pretty sure she didn't feel no pain.

No, I know. I just...

hate when I miss.

[sighs]

Are you seriously not gonna go get her?

She's already in the garbage can, Carla.

John-John, nobody's emptying the garbage cans.

So?

It's my birthday. I want that.

- That right there? - Yes.

Damn. Birthdays.

[laughs]

"It's my birthday, John-John.

John-John do this. John-John do that."

- She stinks! - Yeah, she's a zombie.

[grunts]

Ugh. She smells like fish and eggs.

Open the door.

Oh, no, I'm not riding back there with her leaning on me.

- Open the damn door. - All right, no, seriously,

I get paid, like, less than an intern,

- so I'd rather just quit. - [chuckles]

Carla, pop the trunk.

[rock music]

- I knew it. - What'd you know?

There was a problem with that guy.

- Looks important. - It is important.

You have no idea what I'm doing.

Uh-Uh.

Search "Mischa Barton upskirt."

No, I'm doing police business right now.

[groans]

Oh, it burns.

- Stop it. - Burns so bad.

Fine. "Mischa... Barton...

upskirt."

- Take the helm. - [groans]

5,000.

Captain...

you seen officer Landry around?

Eh, she left with some half-beard in a camaro.

They say where they were going?

- They did not. - Thanks, captain.

Stubeck.

Yeah?

You think those two are, um...?

I don't want to think about it.

Neither do I.

Entertaining impure thoughts about officer Landry

weakens and cheapens all of us, and I will not stand for it...

at least not on company time.

We understand each other?

I think so, captain.

- Very well. - Thanks.

- Stubeck! - [clears throat]

Captain.

I don't feel the same way about Rinaldi.

Okay.

I feel she can handle our demons.

- Uh... - You're a man of the world.

I live in Sherman Oaks.

You know what I'm talking about, don't you?

- Honestly, I have no idea. - Keep your guard up, soldier.

Dismissed.

- Dismissed? - Yes.

Stubeck!

Yeah.

Thank you for being there for me...

now and in the future.

Dismissed.

I feel like you're probably just gonna...

call my name again when I get a little ways away.

Don't like being second-guessed.

- Dismissed. - Really?

- Yes. - See you on Monday.

- Stubeck. - Nope.

[siren wails]

Oh, my god.

That was so good.

Wasn't sweet enough.

Are you serious?

Strawberry cake with maple-syrup filling

and powdered sugar on top?

- Close your eyes. - What?

Close your eyes. Trust me.

Okay, open 'em.

Happy Birthday, partner.

John-John.

Huh?

Oh, my god. John-John.

- This is a Rolex. - Yeah.

Where did you get this?

Yeah, you know, I got some people.

But this is crazy expensive...

unless it's a knock off, which is totally cool, by the way.

- Is it a knockoff? - No, of course it's--

I wouldn't do that to you.

Look at the bling bling on that thing.

You stole this, didn't you?

Why? Because I'm black?

You stole this off that lady zombie in the trunk.

No. Yes.

That zombie lady, she didn't need it.

Plus, a Rolex is a terrible thing to waste.

You got to put this back on that zombie.

I just wanted to get you something nice

for your birthday, Carla. That's all.

Well, I appreciate the gesture.

Mm-hmm.

But you can't just take a watch off a dead person, okay?

Come on. It's, like, the worst karma ever.

Okay.

You, uh, you wanted to see me, captain?

Pierce, I ran those plates.

You want to tell me what that's about?

Honestly, I'd rather not.

You're a good-looking man, Billy.

Some might even say pretty.

You got golden thread for hair

and a mouth like a cut peach.

But I am still your captain,

and I asked you a question.

I'm sorry. What was the question?

I can't remember anymore.

- License plates. - License plates.

That's what I was asking about.

Right. So Stubeck I.D'd the driver

as one of the vamps who jumped him outside the bar.

Right? Now, I've been dying to get this piece of crap.

Only thing is, I promised Stu I wouldn't go at it alone.

Now, I wouldn't be breaking that promise

If a certain someone decided to come with me,

now, would I?

That's true.

I'm talking about you, captain.

You... you should come with me.

- Oh, me? - Yeah.

Oh, great. Yeah. Why not?

Let's do this.

Let's kick some vamp ass.

- Kick some vamp ass. - All right.

[siren wails]

So I'm about a year out of college, right?

Traveling through Amsterdam, right?

That's right. And I'm coming out of this club,

and this intense-looking Israeli man

with a magician's moustache

pulls up in a black Mercedes sedan.

What?

And he asks me if I want to go

to a place in the red light district

where they masturbate you with fur.

[indistinct chatter over police radio]

Ah! Every time.

- Damn it. - We don't care.

Roger, roger. We're on it. Roger.

Hold on. Get back to your story.

Mind you now, this Israeli guy

was a black belt in karate

and the former keyboardist for Tears for Fears.

Everybody wants to rule the world.

Ain't that the truth. [siren wails]

A.P.B. out on Ford exposition, West Burbank Boulevard.

Ugh. I knew I shouldn't have told Billy about that vamp.

[line ringing]

Hello?

Billy, where are you?

Who's this?

It's Stubeck, you moron.

Ah, I'm just busting on you.

This is Billy's voice mail.

I can't take your call right now,

so leave a message at the beep.

Billy, that message is not funny,

and I know what you're doing. I heard the A.P.B. you put out.

If you don't call me, I'm telling Dashell.

And one of these times, I am gonna tell Dashell.

I'm not gonna tell Dashell.

That's his ride right there.

It's empty.

- Is that him? - Yeah, that's him.

How the hell's he getting cell-phone coverage out here?

Big S.O.B.

I wonder who his provider is.

This guy's gonna fight. We got to hit him from behind.

Maybe I'm just not using my roaming feature right.

Maybe U.V. him or-- Hey, Pierce, can we focus

on the massive vampire we got to take down, please?

Yeah.

Where'd he go? Ah, crap.

[Bleep]

Okay. Marry Michelle Obama,

bang Sarah Palin.

That's interesting.

Aah!

[both screaming]

Holy [bleep], dude. It's a zombie.

- Do something. - I am doing something.

Your gun. Your gun. Shoot that thing.

I swear to god, I will shoot it...

[Bleep].

- Oh, my god. - Golly.

Where'd you get those vocals?

I'm sorry. I got scared.

I thought you shot her, in the first place.

- I did. - Obviously you didn't, Carla.

I shot it twice, all right?

- She's still moving. - I...

[crying] I definitely shot it the second time!

Oh.

You didn't put the watch back on her, did you?

I'm serious, the world's gonna end in 2012.

If you don't believe me, rent the movie.

[tires squeal]

[coughs]

- [grunts] - Hey, are you okay?

Travis, what's wrong?

No, I'm good. I'm good. I'm good.

[coughs] What was I saying? I was...

Aah!

Jesus.

What's going on?

Travis, pull over!

Aah!

Oh, my god. If you're a werewolf and you didn't tell me,

I'm gonna [bleep] kill you.

Jesus.

Travi--!

[distant pop music]

[roars]

Hey!

Billy, U.V.!

Cuff this piece of [bleep].

Get up.

Get up, sunshine. Get up on your feet.

And let's try this again, huh?

You ready?

[grunts]

Fry him! Fry him!

[screams]

[bleep]

[bleep]

[howls]

[growls]

Oh [bleep].

Travis, stop. You don't have to do this, okay?

Just breathe. You don't know what you're doing.

Everything's gonna be okay.

[silenced gunshot]

[breathing heavily]

Told you I didn't trust that guy.

You okay? Hit your head or anything?

Uh, no, I'm okay.

How did you find me?

Put out an A.P.B. Pretty simple, really.

Thank you. You know what's crazy?

He actually asked me if it was my time of the month.

I don't want to discuss your womanly, uh...

Well, I guess now would be a good time

for you to lecture me

about the kind of guys that I date.

No, no, no, no, you're a big girl...

although, come on,

that guy didn't pass the smell test.

He actually smelled kind of great.

Not what I'm talking about.

I've seen the type a million times.

Let me guess. No steady job...

badmouths his parents,

super controlling, never has money,

always wants you to pay.

Mm-hmm.

I was supposed to buy him a guitar on Saturday.

I hate them.

Sync and corrections by www.addic7ed.com

Hey, you know what I love about these Looxcie cameras

- is you can check your nostrils. - Stop it.

Officer Rinaldi will go undercover

as a vamp hooker.

Whoa!

I'm gonna take this gun,

and I'm gonna shoot him in his face.

I need a rope.

It's a vamp.

Actually, he's kind of a tool.

- [snarls] - Whoa!

You know, you might be developmentally challenged.