All language subtitles for iZombie.S04E07.HDTV.x264-SVA

Previously on iZombie...

Renegade's operation
turns more humans into zombies

than all other carrier outfits combined.

You bring me Renegade,

you go back to running
your establishments in peace.

We need to be focused on
our very massive brain shortage.

If you fail in that, the
10,000 zombies we made

will come for your head.

Well, word is that watered-down brain
tubes are being sold for 40 bucks a pop

in the back-alleys in Seattle

because you've got
a leak in your food chain.

I would've gotten you out sooner,
but I had to pick the right time.

Nothing keeps us McDonoughs down.

Dino got him out.
He's the only one who knew.

Find him and deal with him.

The smuggling of humans into
Seattle and creation of new zombies

stops today.

I need you to gather whoever's
left in Mama Leone's organization.

We're gonna pick up where she left off.

_

Beth's e-mail said she was
frail from the chemo,

but strong enough to
carry her 1-year-old.

Good. They don't gun down babies.

I like the wall for this one.

You, uh... You sticking
with the wig and the tan?

- That's smart.
- There's still our other problem.

Brains.

Mama had a guy at zombie services.

He slipped us ID cards,

so our transplanted
zombies could get brains

at the Fillmore Graves dispensaries.

Mama's guy went AWOL.

Have you two heard about Brother
Love's Zombie Salvation Show?

- Brother Love?
- Yeah.

Some zombie preacher
I keep hearing about.

Preaches zombie pride.

And he gets brains for the needy.

All pro bono.

Bourbon, neat.

What's that?

Bermuda Rose.

It's gin. And grenadine. And...

It's pink. It's pink, Seth.

Are you looking for a big, strong
man to take you home tonight?

Dump it. Get rid of it.

Scale of one to ten, what
would you say you are?

Um...

Be honest.

Six?

- Five?
- Sure. Yeah, five.

Do what I say and you'll be
pulling sixes and sevens.

What's she?

A goddess.

I know. She goes to my gym.
I'm in love with her.

Oh, Seth.

You've taught me so much. Can't we
just go over there, break the ice?

Her friend's not bad.

Max. Your website said...

My website didn't mention love.

That's not what this is about.

Yeah. Sure. Fine.

- Yeah?
- Let's do it.

- Here.
- What's this?

It's peacocking. You're
standing out from the crowd.

This says you are your own man.

- I don't know.
- Wear it.

Okay.

All right. Here we go.

What do we do first?

Undermine her confidence. Make
her desperate for our approval.

My man.

Ladies. I'm Max. Meet my friend, Seth.

He's a black belt in Jiu-Jitsu,
so don't make him mad.

When he's not kicking ass, he handles
corporate accounts at Sun-West,

the largest timeshare management
company on the West Coast.

Hey, Seth. Cool scarf.

Hi.

We go to the same gym.

I'm always right behind you
in spin class.

Good to know.

Uh, I'm surprised to hear
you actually go to the gym.

- What?
- Well, you have one of those bodies

that's, uh, you know...

What?

It's a compliment. You're curvy.

Curvy means fat.

Feel this.

It tickles.

Last night was... Wow.

You were right.

I almost walked away from
something really special.

Now, who's a little sleepyhead, huh?

One part of you is ready for the day.

Max?

Synced and corrected by hawken45
for www.addic7ed.com

_

Here's what we know so far.

Max Roberts, 39,

was found dead by a woman he brought
home from the club last night.

Max wrote a popular blog called

Wet Willie's Sensitive Tips.

A how-to on seducing women.

But Roberts made most of his
money as a wingman-for-hire.

That's a thing?

So you finally decided
to get with the program, huh?

You tanned and dyed.

I figured, why fight it?

All the cool zombies were doing it.

Hmm.

Uh, you all look alike now, you zombies.

I can't even tell you apart.

What the hell is a "Weener Kleener?"

- I'll bet it gives you a cleaner weiner.
- Hmm.

Morning after pills. And
they say chivalry is dead.

- Oh.
- King Colossus-brand condoms.

Look at this.

Whoa! God does give with both hands.

No, no, no. Up here.

See the rash on Max's stomach?

Couple that with the yellowing of his
skin and my mind goes to poisoning.

Which means we probably
already have our murderer.

Max's one-night stand from the club.
Solved it!

I guess we should have sex.

Yeah. Why try and fight it?

There.

We don't have to have sex.

Phew. That was close.

Yay! No trace of neurosyphilis!

No. It's not all good news.

Max's stomach lining
shows no sign of irritation.

It's gonna take me a while to pin
down the exact method of poisoning.

Maybe a vision will get us there.

Blue 19! Omaha! Hut!

Go home. Suck down a brain tube.

Maybe drink water on occasion.

You don't tell me when to leave.

I'm Fillmore-Graves!

This is our town!

You're doing a bang up job.

_

Wanna know why I finally got
to dust off my ol' wakizashi?

Not really.

You're the turncoat who got
Blaine's dad out of the well.

Blaine's pissed.
You'll see when he gets back.

Did you hear me? Not interested.

Classic Dino!

Sparkling conversationalist.

I worked with a mute,

and we had so much more fun.

Miss you every day, Chief.

Wanna know what I'm gonna do with you?

Not really.

I'm boxing you up

and I'm mailing you to Gwyneth Paltrow.

She'd think that's funny, right?

She seems cool.

Gwyneth would be all right.

Max was so charming.

He looked right into my eyes

and he said that he saw his future.

- Aw.
- Ms. Lewis, we know Max was poisoned.

According to the coroner,
the poison would've killed Max

within two hours of the dosing,

so unless anyone else was with you...

Like a...

Oh, don't make us spell it out.
We're talking a tag team.

An Eiffel Tower.
A Peter, Paul, and Mary.

What's your freak number, girl?

I'm sorry. That's not
what I meant to suggest.

Wait.

You guys think I did this?

No one kills a guy that
gives her multiple orgasms.

I'm not sure that defense
will hold up in court.

- It's Amanda, right?
- Yeah.

I like Mandy better.

Well, no one calls me that.

Mandy. You know our boy Max
was a chubby chaser, right?

I'm not fat.

I'm curvy. Max said...

Excuse us.

I'm not fat.

What are you doing?

- I'm negging her, Clive.
- Nagging?

No, no, no. Negging.

I'm undermining her confidence,
so she'll be more vulnerable.

- Knock it off.
- But...

It's highly doubtful that
girl in there killed Max.

- Why's that?
- Max was poisoned with atrocholine.

It's a toxic chemical commonly
used to make optical glass.

But in his case, it was
absorbed through the skin.

What's the one thing the killer knew

a womanizer would come
into contact with?

- Ta-tas.
- Mmm-mmm.

- Let's not do this.
- Fine.

His condoms were poisoned, Clive.

Not a bad way to go. Who's with me?

General Mills hasn't said
a peep about nuking Seattle,

since you smuggled his
daughter into the city.

That's one problem solved
on a very long list.

There's a brain shortage out there.

Most of our problems come back to that.

We've heard rumors that our
own men are skimming brains

and selling them on the black market.

I want you to find out who's behind it.

You want me to find
someone else to do it?

You give the order, I'll do it.

You just don't want
to be a rat. Am I right?

Get over it.

There's one name I know.

Russ Roche.

Ugh! Roche is a dolt.

No way he's the ringleader.

I want you to buddy up to him...

Fun, fun.

If he likes hitting a colonic, you take
him out for his-and-his colonics.

Make him a colonic-themed mixtape.

Just find out who's calling the shots.

Sir, is there a reason you
think your office is bugged?

Yes.

Major.

Be careful with Roche.

He's not smart, but he is a killer.

_

Thanks for coming in, Ms. Zoe Ward.

You heard that Max Roberts was murdered?

That's what they told me.

Can you confirm whether you sent
the deceased the following text?

"I hope your eggplant emoji falls off,"

and you drown in a pool of
your own poop emoji.

"I hate your pig face emoji,
you rooster emoji."

- I did.
- Why?

Because I was hoping
his eggplant would fall off.

Max Roberts was a vile creature.

- A predator.
- A misogynist.

A complete dick.

That didn't stop you from saddling
up and riding that stallion, did it?

To my eternal shame.
Though, I have to say...

At least he was good at that.

If it hadn't been amazing, I wouldn't
have been pissed that he ghosted me.

Oh God, no. Gross.

I didn't sleep with Max Roberts.
Thank God.

Huh. I'm not surprised.

Max had a hard rule about sevens.

Okay... But he probably also had
a hard rule against zombies.

You're a zombie?

Then can you explain why you texted Max,

"You're going to pay
for what you did to me.

Butcher Knife emoji."

My friend sent that text.

She slept with Max, and
then he blocked her number.

My phone was handy,
so we had fun one night

passing the phone back and forth,
sending him juvenile messages.

Can I get your friend's information?

One night we saw him at the club,

and he got all up in our faces like,

"You're not funny!"

Now get me out of this mess, Max.

Otherwise, we're both going down!

Here. That's her info.

Thanks. You're free to go.

Number ten.

So

A Fillmore-Graves soldier
was screaming at Max...

"Get me out of some mess,

otherwise we'll both go down."

His name tag said "G. Marsh."

I'll track down this "G. Marsh."

Take your time.

All that sex talk made me horny.

Mind telling Ravi that I
left early to tap some ass?

Yeah. I'll get right on that.

Tapping that ass.

The guys said the Triple Cross Church

is in a converted XXX theater.

The things I would do to you.

- XXX things?
- Yes.

I mean, I get it. My ass is grade A.

But do you always come on this strong?

I am so sorry.

I'm solving the murder
of this douchebag player.

Get tired of wearing a wig?

Yes, but I also thought
our zombie pride preacher

would prefer this look.

Always thinking.

Well, this must be it.
_

Hello?

Anybody here?

Come here. Look at this. The
Teachings of Brother Love.

"Man shall offer himself
to his zombie brethren,

and his brethren shall crack a man's
skull and scoop his brains..."

- Whoa. What?
- Or this...

"Those who wear
the Fillmore-Graves uniform

are in league with the humans
who would see us destroyed."

Okay. Maybe he's got a point
on that one.

Brother Love!

Hello?

You have guests.

Wonderful news!

- Are you here for salvation?
- Not exactly.

- Redemption!
- No.

- Forgiveness?
- We're here to talk about brains.

You're hungry.

- I should pat them down.
- No need.

No need.

- I'm Brother Love.
- Levon.

Levon.

- And you, my dear?
- Liv.

Liv! Must be an angel.

With skin the color of the pearly gates,

and milky tresses to match.

As the Almighty intended. Natural.

You say you're hungry?

We're not asking for us.

We know a few newly-turned zombies

who can't get brains
through official channels.

We heard you feed hungry zombies here.

I have a soft spot for the downtrodden.

Where do you get your brains?

Oh, donations from the dying, mostly.

And a few brain tubes that fall through
the cracks at Fillmore-Graves.

A weekly free meal at Romeros.

Romeros? I know the owner,

- he's not exactly charitable.
- You know my son?

Your son?

Yes, my son Blaine.

Quick as a whip. Voice of a nightingale.

Successful to boot. And single.

_

Still no word back from
that friend of Zoe Ward,

the zombie who let her friend send
threatening texts from her phone.

I think I banged that dude.

Chase Graves? Yeah, you banged him.

Ugh. I remember now.

He's gonna be all,
"Oh, Liv, why didn't you call?

Didn't the bone sesh on my hotel
room desk mean anything to you?"

Dudes. Look at him.
Look how sad he looks.

That's probably a suicide
note he's working on.

Look at you, Ms. Moore.
Finally with the program!

It's over, dude. I don't know
what you want me to say.

Detective.

We've been getting the
runaround trying to track down

one of your men.

George Marsh. He's a person of
interest in a murder investigation.

When was the murder?

Two days ago.

- And you think Marsh did it?
- It's possible.

He's unavailable.

If you come back, I can
have him here tomorrow.

Unavailable?

There's nowhere he could be that's
more than 25 minutes from here.

And, yet, tomorrow is
as soon as you can see him.

I need a minute
for the toxicology report.

Liv changed the filing system.

The deceased are now
arranged by hotness quotient.

You're on Tinder, Clive?

Clive? Tinder?

Wait! Does this mean
you and Bozzio are dunzo?

No!

Relationships take work, Clive.

Look at me and Peyton.

We had a rough go,
but we didn't give up.

It's not the same. We
didn't cheat on each other.

No one cheated!
We can't have sex together,

so we're in an open relationship.

Y'all wanted us to be
the No Secrets Club.

Well, there you go.

Oh.

Did... Did you delete your matches?

What matches?

This is bad. This is really bad.

Why would you upload a photo of yourself

standing next to Seven-Foot Sven?

It's my police academy graduation.

I look good in a uniform.

That does it. I'm taking
you out tonight, Clive.

I'm a phenomenal wingman.

I hate going out. Mmm-mmm, mmm-mmm.

Yeah, we know. It says so
here in your list of "hates."

You also hate warm
weather, and "This Is Us".

Yeah, it's emotionally manipulative.

Fine. I'll go.

You're emotionally manipulative.

Mmm. Oh, oh, where are my keys?

Uh, they're on my desk.

- One rule for tonight.
- Hmm.

Given the brain she's on...

Don't tell Liv.

Is the record skipping or is the
music supposed to sound like this?

Quick. Pound this.

Pound this one, too.

- I need a minute.
- Pound it!

Oh, look at this. Coming our way.
Coming our way.

Oh, God.

Hello, ladies.

Your money is no good here.

Let my friend and I buy you a drink.

- We're actually just...
- Bartender!

- Yeah?
- Bottle of vodka, yeah?

Your finest.

This is my friend, Clive.
He's a homicide detective.

Me? I'm a coroner.

I know... What a fascinating
pair of gentlemen.

They must have loads of stories.

Tell them how fascinating
you are, Clive.

I'm riveting.

So, what's the craziest thing
you've ever seen on a job?

Oh, Clive. You gotta tell this one.

You're the raconteur.

Oh, um, probably the middle-aged mom

who was smashed by a falling AC unit.

Brains and guts everywhere.

Children walking by
splattered with blood.

Hey.

This is my boyfriend, Gunner.

And that's Julie's boyfriend, Stieg.

Let's ease into the splattered
brain talk next time.

Is that where it went wrong?

I thought it was when

their Scandinavian
He-Men boyfriends showed up.

Amateur hour is over boys.

Let's go get us some nasty.

_

Clive should be himself.

Only fun and less tightly-wound.

Oh, Clive should be another person.

A better person.

Just give me the hat, Liv.

I was hoping for a Frosty
the Snowman moment.

And the instant we gave him the hat,

he would become full of life.
He'd have swagger.

He'd be crackling with sexual magnetism.

What kind of perverse version
of Frosty the Snowman

did they show kids in England?

Look.

You know, I could catch any D
I want in this place.

Most of the guys in here are human.

They won't be when I'm making
them brains for breakfast.

Just kidding.

I'm not gonna let them
stay for breakfast.

Oh, code red. The herd has arrived.

That better be a photo of his penis.

Oh, and it looks like she's crying.

Okay, it probably is his penis.

Come on.

He was still waiting in line

when she got the Aleutian flu vaccine.

That's when he got the call
about the zombie virus.

How sad is that?

Okay, baby dolls. I'm gonna
need you to put out or get out.

Hit it or quit it.
Hump or dump. Follow me?

You told them about Bozzio?

- I wanna be honest.
- That is dumb.

I'm not gonna be a liar to get sex.

Good luck with that.

I'm done here.

Thanks for trying to help.

You blew it.

Think I'm gonna go catch
that D I was talking about.

I think I'm gonna go home
and make love to my girlfriend.

Don't be gross.

- Hey.
- Hey.

I was in the neighborhood.

I thought maybe we could
talk more strategy?

Save a few more lives?

Is that before or after you
texted me, "Down to duck"?

I sent that text
to like, ten other guys.

Don't read into it.

But are you?

Down to duck?

This isn't a good idea.

When you talk, it accentuates
your double chin.

Are you negging me?

What do you think of my hat?

I think Kevin Federline wore it better.

Are you negging me?

No, I genuinely don't like your hat.

Liv, I'm not hooking up with you
while you're on this brain.

Whatever. I don't care.

I'm like barely even interested in you.

I'm gonna get you a lift.

Fine, but can I at least see
what my driver looks like?

Oh, never mind. Everyone's a ten
if you keep your eyes closed.

I was wondering if you'd ever call.

Come in, Detective.

Are you freaking kidding me?

And you can probably guess what
they say about me. Let's see.

Oh, I spend more time at
the gym than I do at my desk.

I'm a demagogue who uses
the city's tax dollars

to eat brains at Romeros.

One article.

In one newspaper.

I'm sorry, Commander. Can I ask what

Lillywhite is doing here?

Did he get some kind of promotion
we weren't made aware of?

Huh?

Did I forget the paperwork?

I might have.

I've had my hands full.

Major is the new vice president
of getting stuff done.

Which means he outranks
any of you because,

well, he gets stuff done.

Everyone out.

Except my VP of getting stuff done!

You, get back in here.

Sir?

You made any progress with Roche?

Oh, I've lost 100 bucks
to him playing pool,

buddying up to him

and we made plans to hit
The Scratching Post next week.

What do you say we
turn you into besties?

Take Roche's unit down to the offices

of the 206 Weekly and shut them down.

Do we have the authority
to do that, sir?

We are the authority.

Oh, God. Oh, God.

Oh, God.

You're in a hurry.

I thought I set my alarm.

This is bad. This is...

Really bad.

I've never done this.

How much?

Hey, any idea why Liv Moore
would text me "Down to duck"

in the middle of the night?

My wife was pissed,
I had to sleep on the couch.

No clue.

Ah.

Clive.

Called a few times.

Went straight to voice-mail.

My phone died.

I was worried.

I'm sorry.

Maybe we need to establish
some ground rules.

Spending the night feels
like there's emotions involved.

That's a good rule.

But, Dale?

There were no emotions involved.

Promise.

Did you make her your special breakfast?

I haven't asked for any details
about the men you've been with.

Well, I haven't slept
with anyone, Clive.

- I heard...
- I went on some dates.

I made out with a guy.

All it did was make me miss you.

I guess we're really doing this.

Chase better walk in here with
that zombie from your vision.

We gave him a day.

Hey, I just noticed.

That's the same outfit
as last night, you dirty dog.

- You got some chick...
- I don't wanna talk about it, Liv.

Thanks for waiting, officers.

I see this was a bit of a to-do.

Here's the man of the hour.

This is the guy?

That's the guy from my vision.

Marsh, the Seattle PD wants to know

if you magically defrosted yourself

and murdered someone a few days ago.

What year is it?

You haven't even been
frozen a month, Marsh.

It's a long way from 2023.

Damn.

- Who got offed?
- Max Roberts.

Max is dead?

How?

Poisoned condoms.

Perfect.

Well, as the commander can
confirm, my alibi is airtight.

I had a vision of you berating Max.

Did that have something
to do with your arrest?

Can't answer that.

My lawyer told me to keep my mouth shut.

I filed an appeal.

Marsh was found guilty
of turning a human

into a zombie through sexual contact.

She reported him for not
disclosing his status.

She told me she was a zombie.

Guess she was a bug chaser.

You hired Max to be your wingman

and that's when you hooked up
with this "bug chaser"?

My lawyer was very clear on this.

Shut my mouth.

What was this woman's name?

Huma Kattan.

Thank you.

Looking good, Liv Moore.

You wish.

All right, look into it.
Got anything else?

I've also been hearing these

weird things about a zombie church.

They say...

What the hell?

What is this all about, here?

- Are you in charge?
- I'm the editor.

I need you to direct
your people to shut down

their computers, pack up their
personal belongings

- and exit the building.
- Why?

- When can we return?
- You can't.

Your newspaper is being closed
down for the public good.

The public good?

Are you serious?

You're printing fake news.

That Mama Leone lady
was making more zombies

when we can't feed the
zombies we already have.

We are on the precipice of
destruction at all times.

The old rules of freedom of
the press no longer apply.

You! Do not take any computer equipment.

This includes any kind of hard drive,

thumb drive, memory stick.

It all stays here.

No. No way. If you're shutting
us down, I'm taking my work...

What do you expect from
the Chaos Killer?

That's my name, baby. Don't wear it out.

_

Thanks again. Bye.

No, it's Huma Kattan.

No?

All right, bye.

The DMV have no record of her either.

How does a zombie disappear
from a walled city?

If you scratch me right now,
what's the first thing I'd do?

Take Bozzio to Bone Town.

After that,

I'd go to the zombie
services office for an ID card.

This Huma needed a card
to get brain tubes.

They'd have her contact info.

That's it.

We'll go to zombie services,
where they make ID cards,

on official police business!

How about we pop over during lunchtime,

so we create less of a disturbance.

Yeah, I guess.

You don't wanna go sooner?

Oh no. Lunchtime is good.

I may wanna sleep in.

I know how to get brains
for the underground rail road.

I'm not falling for this again.

Douchebag brain has worn
off, you can let me in.

Finally.

Clive and I are on a case,

blah, blah, blah, long story short,

we have to go to
the zombie services office

on police business tomorrow.

I can steal what we need
to create our own ID cards.

Everyone we smuggle into Seattle

will have access to brain tubes.

That's dangerous, Liv.
If you get caught...

It's worth the risk.

Be careful, these guys
smash zombie heads.

About last night.

Really embarrassed.

Water under the bridge.

No, I need to say this.

Sometimes, my job gets in
the way of my personal life.

I'm on a lot of brains and in the past,

with guys I've dated
it's caused problems.

I can roll with a few lousy brains.

In most cases, I would've
welcomed sex-crazed brain,

but, you know, the first time,
I thought, should be special.

I'm a little girlish that way.

What are you doing?

Shh... Let your body do the talking.

Oh, you... You are still on
the brain, aren't you?

Don't hate the player.

You! Out! You made me feel cheap.

Whatevs. You are a bit girlish.

Text me if you have a change of heart.

All right, let's do this.

Let's.

I never thought I'd say this
but I miss the fedora.

I'm peacocking, Clive.

I thought I explained this to you.

Donuts for the unsung heroes of Seattle.

Lots of zombie-friendly options.

Sure.

Thanks.

Cool-ass hat.

You're a cool-ass dude for noticing.

You're up to something, what is it?

It's called donuting. You know
nothing, Clive Babineaux.

Hi, Jill.

We're with the SPD.

We're tracking down a person of
interest in a murder investigation.

Her name is Huma Kattan and
she recently became a zombie.

Can you help us with that?

Everyone's heading to lunch

but I can show you
where the records are.

That would be great.

Zombie-friendly donuts. Get them here.

There's a file for every
zombie in Seattle.

Some of them are passing for human.

Sadly, we're so understaffed

that files just get thrown back
in there, willy nilly.

Kattan, right?

That's right.

Come on, come on.

Darn.

You may be in for the long haul.

Did you find Huma's file?

Nope.

Did they have mirrors in the bathroom?

Yes.

So you saw what you looked like
and didn't take off the hat?

Lunch is ending. We need to hurry.

Why?

Because we don't wanna be in their way.

I was sitting there at lunch
and I thought to myself,

what about those new zombie
files that haven't been filed?

The ones we keep up front.

So, I hurried back.

Here, you go.

Thank you.

Well, well, well.

Does Huma look familiar?

That's Zoe Ward.

The zombie who said her friend

sent Max those threatening
texts from her phone.

Yeah, well, I don't think there
ever was a friend.

She's only been a zombie a few weeks.

So, when she went to get an ID card

she still went by the name Huma.

So Huma gets George Marsh

put away in
the Fillmore-Graves freezer...

Then changes her name to Zoe Ward

and settles the score with
the guy who taught George

how to seduce her.

She's our killer.

Sweet, let's go pick her up, right now.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Afraid I'm gonna have to take another
look at what's inside that box.

Two donuts? You sure
that's a good idea, big fella?

Think of all the hungry zombie
cops back at the station

who you promised donuts?

They won't miss just one.

They will.

Take all you want, good sir.

Liv.

Do I wanna know what you're up to?

I think it's better that you don't.

Tell us why you changed your name

from Huma Kattan to Zoe Ward?

I'd just transitioned from
human to zombie.

It's a big life change.

It was a new beginning.

What I have here is a transcript

from the Fillmore-Graves
hearing that sent George Marsh

to the deep freeze.

"Huma asked for it."

"She knew George was a zombie,
and she threw herself at him."

"She was a bug chaser."

"One of those girls who wanted
to get with a zombie,"

"wanted to be a zombie."

That's what Max Roberts
said on the stand.

Max Roberts is a pig and a liar.

He was a pig and a liar.

Max is dead and George
is in a deep freeze.

Max introduced George to you, didn't he?

Yeah.

When did you find out that Max
was a paid wingman?

An expert on seducing women?

When a friend showed me his column.

"Wet Willie's Sensitive Tips."

Repulsive, right?

Max was killed by a toxic substance
used to make optical glass.

Where do you work, now?

Queen Anne Optometry.

How did you get the
poisoned condoms to...

It was easy, I dressed up
like a giant condom and

handed out free samples
outside the club.

Made sure Max got a special box.

That's easy?

We'll need it in writing.

I wanted a normal life.

I wanted kids.

George took that away from
me without my consent.

Max helped him and then went
on the stand and humiliated me.

At least the son of bitch
can't hurt any more women.

So, you know what?

They can stick me in the freezer
for however long they want.

My life was over the moment
I met Max Roberts.

Come on, Chase. It was a mistake.

Admit it and move on.

Shooting up a newspaper
office, shutting them down,

it's like you're begging humans to riot.

- Are they rioting?
- No reports of riots.

I'm placing a bet.

I'm betting that no one cares
enough to take to the streets

over one rinky-dink alt-weekly
closing its doors.

I suppose all the city's sex workers

will have to find a new
place to advertise.

Shutting down the press
over a critical story.

Isn't that what an autocrat does?

That's what I am.

You wanna know when
democracy doesn't work?

It doesn't work when
you're sitting on a powder keg.

It doesn't work when
your people are starving.

It doesn't work when your entire
species is on the brink of extinction.

So, you can lament the
closing of the 206 Weekly.

But they tried to make a hero
out of a woman who made it

harder to keep our population fed.

I want human smuggling stopped

so I can save lives.

I don't regret the execution
of that woman.

I didn't ask if you did.

Your soldiers didn't just lock
the doors of the 206 Weekly.

They terrorized the staff.

They caused thousands
of dollars in damages...

Fake news.

Fake, huh?

- You didn't shoot up the place?
- Nope.

You sure about that?

Lillywhite, clear this up.
What happened?

The situation was under control

until reporters failed
to follow instructions.

They became belligerent and attacked us.

The limited gunfire was warranted
to control the situation.

So, there you have it.

Well, we always appreciate a
visit from the mayor's office.

We need to do this more often.

Liv, it's street-cleaning tomorrow.

Better move your car
or you'll get a ticket.

Liv?

Hello?

What the hell are you doing?