All language subtitles for movieddl.me_Psych.S07E05.1080p.BluRay.x264-STORiES

Oh, man. God!

You really caught me flush
with that mic stand, Billy.

Oh, it's a flesh wound, mate.

Here, let me get
a good look at it.

Is it terrible?

Uh, no, you can barely see it.

It's borderline
nonexistent. All right.

It feels like
the blood is streaming

out of the back
of my head, Billy.

No, it'll heal.

Billy Lipps!

That show was the rockin' nuts!

Especially when you sang
Rockin' Nuts as an encore.

Yeah!
Who are you two?

Who are we?
You don't remember?

Billy, it's me,
Shawn Spencer, man.

This is my partner,
Domo Arigato... Ah.

Mr. Roboto.

Oh, yeah, I sort of
remember the black kid.

Billy!
Billy! Billy Lipps!

Oh, man!

I've been a fan of yours
since the Dapshats.

All right.
Brewski.

Cheers.
Wait a minute. Dad?

Shawn? Gus?
What are you doing here?

What are you doing here?

I was never here.
Oh wait.

Are you guys real or
are you hallucinations?

No, no, no.
Billy, Billy.

Shawn Spencer.

The psychic detective.

I'm working with the SBPD

on this little cold-case
investigation of Melinda Lane.

You know, that groupie that
mysteriously died at your mansion.

Shh, shh. No...

Wait a minute.
You're here on a case?

Yes, as a matter
of fact, we are.

It's, like, our third one. Boom.

We're trying to
impress Chief Dick.

Chief Vick.

Vick?
Yes.

Yeah, uh, look,
why are you bringing up

this whole
Melinda Lane business?

Because, Lipps...

There are some very
interesting tidbits

in your recently
released biography

that shed some damning new light

on the Melinda Lane
murder investigation.

Huh, that's my book.

You remember Melinda,
don't you, Billy?

Sorry, Billy. I'm the
one that tipped them off.

But don't worry, I told them
that you could explain away

any tidbits they may have.

Ha. For example, and I quote,

"I woke up in my bed
that fateful night

"and couldn't help but
smell Melinda's perfume

"that she always wore
all over me."

Don't ever do that again.
Sorry.

Now, Billy, in our
previous interviews,

you stated that you and Melinda
didn't speak the night she was murdered

because of a falling out.

Now, if that were the case,

why was her scent
all over your clothes?

Don't answer that yet.

Chapter four,

"I had scratches on my chest,

"but the dense, meerkat-like
fur that covers my torso

"made them invisible
to the naked eye."

Who gave you
those scratches, Billy?

Was it Melinda Lane,
as you smothered her face

with a pillow and murdered her?

Go ahead, Billy.

Read him the riot act, man.
Tell him how wrong he is.

Rockin' nuts

What do you say we
continue this little chat

down at the station, huh?

W-W-Whoa, whoa.
Just wait one second,

okay, Detective Lassiter?

Gus.
Yeah.

Oh, yeah. What?

Rockin' nuts

I'm just not sure
I follow you, Jules.

Shawn, we've eaten
at Thank The Lard

three times this week.

Plus, it's Saturday night.

You know what?
You're right.

I'm taking you to Fuddruckers.

You're invited, lucky you

To a party, whoop-de-do

There'll be wine
and cocktails too

Who's your host?
I wish I knew

You're invited

Don't be a D-bag and be late

You have a plus-one

"Bella Rosa Mansion.

"Tonight. 7:00 p.m.

"RSVP now. No cameras."

Shawn, I have wanted to go
to the Bella Rosa Mansion

since I moved to Santa Barbara.

It's a stunning landmark.

I bet they have those
things in the bathroom

that hose off your bum.

Shawn Spencer and
Juliet O'Hara are in.

Wait, is it weird
that we don't know

who invited us
or why we were invited?

Jules, I think it's
mysterious by design.

It may be one of those Eyes
Wide Shut shindigs with the masks

or a Boogie Nights
shindig with lots of cocaine.

Either way, I am talking
about exposed boobies.

You know what?
I don't care.

I'm gonna wear my one-of-a-kind
vintage Oscar de la Renta dress!

Wait a minute.

That guy boxes
and designs dresses?

That's just plain impressive.

Hey, Carlton.
Really?

What? And you're
sure that you need me?

No, you don't.
Okay.

We got some news
on a missing-persons case.

It doesn't look like
I'm gonna make it.

That sucks. But don't
invite anybody else.

Okay? There's still an outside
chance I might make it later.

Are you kidding?
I wouldn't dream of it.

Okay.

Careful out there.

Hi, Gus.
Hey, Jules.

Dude, I have an extra
ticket to a mysterious party

at a sweet mansion tonight,
you're my first choice.

What? I am so in.

It's a secret party

It's a secret party

Private party
It's a secret party

Let's go see some boobs

Are you kidding me?

What is your major malfunction?

I stepped in scat, man!

Scatman Crothers?
No, Panther scat.

Gus, don't be the second
time ever I saw your face.

I know my scat, Shawn.

What's up? Well,
good evening, kind sir.

You're a half hour early.

We got stuck in traffic.

I'm Shawn Spencer,
and this is my plus-one.

Juliet O'Hara?

You invited Juliet before me?

It's true.
I invited her first.

But I brought you.
You know what I'm saying?

Not really.
Let's party.

Enter, gentlemen.

Licorice pastels, 12:00.
That's amazing.

Give me your phones.

What? Why do you
need our phones?

Because your host doesn't
need you shooting photos of him

and putting them
on the inter web.

I'll buy that.

I got it. I got it.
Here you go.

So, uh, sir, we still
haven't gotten your name.

Clizby.

Clizby?

With a "Th" sound?

Clizby.

Okay.

So, uh, Clizby.

Who might our host be?

I'll tell you what, Clizby,

I've got an Abe Lincoln
with your name on it

if you give us a tour of
this joint, you feel me?

That means you get
to keep the $5.

I was hoping to
get two back, actually.

So, Clizby...

How long have you worked
for Denzel Washington?

Uh, what he meant to say was,

how long have you worked for
Wendy's founder Dave Thomas?

He's dead, Shawn.

Is he really?
Yes.

I'm so sorry for your loss, sir.

I've been working for
my boss for 25 years.

Wow. Muhammad Ali must
really value you as an employee.

So, Clizby,

is there an itinerary
for the evening?

There will be a six-course meal,

followed by live entertainment.

I see.

Cliz, who is this guy?

It's all right, buddy.

It's, it's okay.

I'm sorry, my partner has
an intense fear of toupees,

tied to his grandfather.

He used to whup me.
For his fear of toupees.

It was a vicious cycle.

This is the original
owner of the house,

Bucky Sharavino.

He was a chocolatier.

My boss rented this
mansion from Bucky's estate.

Legend has it that Bucky built
his own secret chocolate room.

Does legend say where
this room is exactly?

Rumor has it it's somewhere
near the living room.

Excuse me.
Of course.

Let's all do the chocolate dance

Chocolate dance

Let's all do the chocolate dance

It's an entire...

Let's all do the chocolate dance

Chocolate dance,
chocolate dance, yeah!

Let's all do the chocolate dance

Chocolate!
It's an entire room

And please leave a message.

Hey, Shawn, it's me.

Look, we found that
missing person's vehicle

and we're processing it
for evidence,

but I am still hoping that
I can make it to the party.

Just makes me so sad to
think of you there all by yourself.

They found blood in the car.

You're not making it
to that party.

Oh, good evening.
Oh, hello.

I'm Leslie.

I'm Gus.
This is Shawn.

I was wondering,
perhaps, do you two know

who's ho-ho-ho-hos...

Hosting?

We thought you might know.

No, but I hope to get to stick
around long enough to find out.

Another party to attend?

Ha, I wish.

Excuse me.

I have to get home
to my son, Germaine.

I'm sure his father
can watch him

while you enjoy a night out.

What father?

He's never met his father!

Oh, I'm sorry.

I'm a single mom,

and this is a s-s-s,

it's a s-s-sensitive subject.

Oh. Sure, I can imagine, yeah.

Harry's here.

Uh, don't get up.

You!

You were our bumber-one
Snoopy back in the gay.

Excuse me.

Excuse me.

Spencer. Guster.

Do you have any idea
who's hosting this thing?

I'm Magellan, I'm Magellan.

He's Magellan.
Your mama's Magellan.

Shawn?
What?

Good evening.
I'm Martin Kahn,

Harvard, class of '86.

1986?
Burton Guster.

Pomona College, class of '98.

"Pomona College."

Shawn Spencer. School of
street smarts and winged serpentry.

So, Martin, do you know
who's hosting this evening?

Of course, but I'm not one
to ruin a surprise, now, am I?

How should we know?
We've only just met.

My bad.

Some very interesting tidbits

in your recently
released biography.

Got it.

You are Martin Kahn,

the biographer
who wrote Rock Bottom,

which makes you Highway Harry,

longtime manager of Billy Lipps

and the guys behind me,

which also means that he
didn't call you a "Gay Snoopy."

He was saying you were their
number-one groupie back in the day.

Great for that.

Which means our host
can only be,

Hello, everybody.

Billy Lipps.

Good to see you.
Thanks for coming.

As you all know,

I've been in prison
for the last five years,

serving my sentence
for the manslaughter

of Melinda Lane.

Uh, Shawn, this is awkward.

Learned a lot of lessons
in the clink,

like perseverance, redemption,

and when your androgynous
bunk mate "Appetite"

says he's gonna shiv you for
not sharing your cherry jubilee,

it's not an idle threat.

That spindly mongrel pierced by bloody
liver while singing Sarah Mclachlan.

His pitch was all
over the place.

But that's not important.

Might I inquire who
the empty seat is for?

My guess is Rip,
but he'll never show.

He hates Highway Harry
with a passion

because he shafted him
on song royalties.

No.

I'm in Mensa.

But what is important
is that I discovered

the power of faith.

I found God.

Jesus.

And I asked them
to strike down Appetite

with a holy vengeance!

But they didn't,
so now I'm Jewish.

Full on. Wear the
hat and everything.

Pure rubbish. Legit.

Seriously, Harry.
I'm Jewish.

You can't tell
those jokes anymore.

Barbra Streisand.
No, I'm serious.

Steven Spielberg.
Stop it.

Benihana.
Stop!

Bojangles!
Stop it.

Ricardo Montalban.

Anyway, the reason that I
brought you all here tonight

is to tell you that prison

was the best thing
that ever happened to me.

I mean, sure, my
gorgeous angel of a wife

fell in love with Derek Hough,

the blond bastard-face
from Dancing with the Stars.

But it's all right.
It's okay.

I'm clean now.
I'm sober.

I'm writing songs again.
I'm circumcised.

Doing pilates. Don't!

I just want to say thank you.

This is a celebration
is what it is!

It's a celebration
of new beginnings...

- And of life!
- L'Chaim!

Harry?

I know, you know
That I'm not telling the truth

I know, you know
They just don't have any proof

Embrace the deception
Learn how to bend

Your worst inhibitions tend
to psych you out in the end.

I know, you know

I know, you know

Excuse me.
I'm a registered nurse.

Sorry. I was a
registered nurse.

I was ter-ter...

T-ter-ter...
T-ter-ter...

Spit it out, woman.

Terminated.

I was fired.

Let go.

This man is dead.

I, for one, am not surprised.

I mean, the man had one
functioning valve in his heart.

Martin's right.

I mean, Highway has
flat-lined and died

at least 10 times before.

We literally had a funeral for him
once and he sat up in the coffin.

He scared the piss out of me.

No really, I soiled me spandex.

This cat wore spandex
to a funeral man.

I, too, am saddened by the
passing of Highway Harry.

So, in his honor, I would like
to volunteer to eat his meal.

We're splitting that
food down the middle.

Too late, Shawn.
I called it.

We split the food
of the dead 50/50.

Man! That's always
been the deal.

- Fine!
- Listen up.

Tonight's mitzvah will
now be in Highway's honor.

And a proper kevurah,

that means funeral,

will take place mañana
once we perform the taharah.

Did he just do a mash-up
of Yiddish and Spanish?

He sure did.
It's like a matzo-dilla.

That sounds delicious.

Excuse me, Billy, but
you're the one who's Jewish.

Yeah, that's right, mate.
So why does Highway Harry

get a Jewish funeral?

Because I'm Jewish.
But he's... not Jewish.

Wait a minute.
You're here on a case?

It's, like, our third one.
We're trying to impress Chief Dick.

Martin, are you
questioning my faith?

Hava nagila!

Hava!
I'm having a vision.

What the heck are you doing?

You better run, Rip!

I'm gonna shiv you
just like that

androgynous boy shivved me!

Mick had Keith.

Axl had Slash.

Morrissey had Johnny.

And Billy has Rip.

Stop. Stop. Stop!

Martin, of course, was correct.

That empty seat was meant
for Billy's loyal guitarist,

but here's the twist.

He's been here all night
long, Lionel Richie style,

lurking, waiting
for the opportunity

to get back at Highway Harry

for cheating him
out of song royalties.

This man did not die
of natural causes.

Say what?

He was hit in the back of
the head during the blackout.

Oh, I... I see
a contu...

A contu...
A c-c-c-contu...

- Contusion.
- Oh, yes.

Contusion.

Uh, Shawn, we need to call
Lassie and Jules immediately.

Yes, that's a good idea.

The line is dead.

Probably the storm.

I experienced a similar
one years ago,

when I was at Harvard.

Ooh! Ooh! These pork-belly
bites of Clizby's

are like divine nuggets
of God's heroin meat.

I asked him once to liquefy 'em

and load it into a syringe
so I could mainline it.

I declined. BILLY:
Yeah, he said no way.

He said you can't put pork
into your veins like that.

Clizby!

We are going to need
to access our cell phones

so that we can call the police.

They're gone.

Uh, Clizby,
I'll take my main course

and my half of Highway
Harry's meal to go.

Gus, where are you going?

Home to my girl
and another man's child.

You can't do that, there's
a Roland Emmerich

style storm raging out there!

I don't care!
I'll take my chances.

Gus.

Aah! Shawn!

I told you there was
a panther out there.

Panther, are you serious?

Billy, you really have
a pet panther?

Yeah, I do, Emma.

Oh, she's a peach,

when she's resting or, like,

when she's not broken
free of her chains.

But if she's out and about,
she'll take your face off.

He's kidding.
No, literally.

She took a friend
of mine's face right off.

But we're not friends anymore.
He's still upset about the whole thing.

I don't think he's
actually upset with me.

I think he's upset
with the doctors

for doing such a poor job
of putting his face back on.

He's got one ear that's like...

Three degrees
lower than the other.

He's not kidding.
Told you.

Hell of a flautist, though.
Had real balls, yeah.

Well, not anymore, I mean,
his grill's barely functional.

Can't even whistle.

But he gives it a go,
yeah, and people clap.

But it's just to be nice,

empty applause, really.

I'm, I'm having,

po-p-p-po,
m-m-menopausal flashes.

Flames smoldering
in and around my bosom.

I cannot stay.
I must leave.

Wait! Leslie,
cool your bosom.

We can't go out there.
He's right.

Martin's right. There is
a storm raging, Leslie,

and there is a hungry panther.

And your bosom is full,
and there are six of us,

and there's only one Rip.

Shawn, are you saying
what I think you're saying?

Absolutely.

Right.

What... No, no,
Billy, Billy, Billy.

I'm saying we should all
split up into pairs

and search the house for Rip.

Right.

Right.

Right?

This must be Clizby's room.

Tell you what.

When we find Rip,
I'm gonna bite him back

for having bitten me with
his little sewer-rat teeth.

Rip bit you?

Oh, that is so cool.

I mean, granted,
I have no memory of this, right?

But apparently Rip and
I got into this huge brawl

years ago over Melinda Lane.

He felt that she was
toxic to the band

'cause she loved me
but also fancied Harry.

Picked me, of course.

Been there.

Yeah, Gus once bit me
for stealing his honey.

Ah, women.

Yeah, could barely
blame him, though.

He had just gotten
some graham crackers

and had nothing to dip them in.

I've been with my boss
for 25 years.

Boring! Clear!

Copy.

Man, I knew they
were going to stick

the two black dudes together.

This either ends
with us dead or in jail.

Man, why do you have to buy

into all those
black stereotypes?

Says the black butler.

Touché, my brother.

Uh, Clizby...

Were Billy and Martin
working on another book?

More like fighting
about another book.

In here all hours of the night,

yelling, throwing stuff.

I use it to caramelize.

I hear that.

Leslie...

I've been letting this Shawn
Spencer run the show,

but are we to just
assume he isn't the killer.

Yes.

So you think he's the killer.

No.

So you don't believe
he's the killer.

I-I meant yes when I said no.

Give me a straight answer.

Do you believe Shawn is
the killer or not? Yes or no?

Yes. Yes, you believe it's him?

Or yes, you don't
believe it's him?

Great Scott!

Hey, Rip!

Come out, come out,
wherever you are.

Do the right thing,
mate. Own up to it.

Go to prison like I did.
It's not as bad as you think.

That's a lie. It's
where souls go to die. Really.

So this is where all the
magic happens, huh?

Oh, yeah, yeah.
This spot right here,

this is the reason why
I rented this mansion,

It's perfect-ect-ect...

Acoustics-ics-ics...

Listen.

Higher.

Higher!

You're right. That sounds
absolutely amazing.

I know, right?

This is some bulls...

Clizby, do the honors, will you?

Come on.

SBPD.
Extinguish that torch.

Gus?

Shawn, you said you
wouldn't bring anyone else.

No, sweetheart,
I invited you first.

And then I brought Gus.
You follow?

No.
You will.

So what? You come to
arrest me again, have you?

First off, you might want

to lower that paint
gun, Alice Cooper.

Secondly, does the name
Albert Semento

ring any bells
in your dead head?

Uh, no.

Well, he's been missing
for a few days,

and we just located his
car not that far from here.

Spattered with blood.

And guess what address
was on his GPS?

Do we all get one guess?

Or can...
It's obvious...

It was this house.

Hi. Martin Kahn,
Harvard.

Carlton Lassiter, shut up.

Well, I don't know
any Albert Semento,

and there's no one here
by that name, all right?

But there is someone here named
Highway Harry, and he is dead.

Are you telling me there's a
dead person in this house?

He was murdered
by Rip, and, yes,

we already called
dibs on his meal.

And where's Rip?

He is somewhere in this house,

kicking ass in a classic
game of hide-and-seek.

Show us the body.

All right.

Harry's gone.

Great Scott!
That's impossible.

No, it isn't.

Rip moved the body to
get rid of any evidence.

What is that smell?

Oh. Gus
stepped in some...

It's burning London
broil. Excuse me.

All right, everybody.
Listen up.

As of 2100 hours,
we are officially

on a phase four lockdown.

Phase four?

What happened to
the other three phases,

you cheap ba...

Oh, my God.

Rip.

Also known by his birth
name, Albert Semento.

Do you mean to tell me

that none of you knew
Rip's real name?

Well I mean I asked him a couple
of times what his real name was

and both times he said "Rip

"Englandfarts."
And I thought,

"Okay, you know, my
mate's playing a joke on me,"

'cause when you say the
whole name, right, it's basically...

Yeah, I got what it is. Okay.

Okay, we've got two stab wounds.

Looks to me like an ice pick.

And it's impossible to tell
how long he's been dead.

Could be two days.
Could be two hours.

All right, people, listen up.

This is officially
a crime scene,

and I am now calling the shots.

And my finely honed
investigative skills

are telling me that
someone in this room

is responsible for the murders

of Al Semento and Highway Harry.

Now, I'm not sure
if you're familiar

with the 1984 Chuck Norris
classic, Missing in Action,

but my partner and I
are about to grill

each and every one of you

like Colonel Braddock
did the Vietcong.

- Yeah, I'm not doing that.
- Fine.

But if anyone's going to be
bound and denied oxygen,

might I suggest we establish
some clear safe words?

Move it out, freak show.

No, that's too many words.

I was thinking more
along the lines of "stop."

I'll be in the den.

That's not my job, man.

I need to know
everything you did

from the time you
arrived here tonight.

And if the girl who sold you that
dress told you it was the only one.

Dammit!

Harvard.
Well, Marty...

Let me tell you what happens

when you cry
"Harvard" in prison.

A bunch of inmates
go to the prison library

and check out a bunch of books

that you've probably
read cover to cover,

and then they take turns
beating you with them

until you forget
you ever went to...

Care to guess?

Harvard.

You really are smart.

Just answer the question, Billy.

All right, but first,
I have a question for you.

No, no, it's legit this query.

Would you ever consider
quitting police work

and going on tour
and sleeping with me

and my band and my crew?

Professionally.

All I know is I've got
a frozen body M&M?

And your alibi
doesn't hold water.

Now start talking.

This is a joke, right, Lassie?

Come on, man, you know
I didn't kill those dudes.

Hold on. Why are you
emphasizing the word "I"?

I don't know. Maybe because
you disappeared for 10 minutes

after Clizby gave
us a tour of the house.

Man, you know
I doubled back around

to that bowl
of licorice pastels.

And when I returned, guess
who was suspiciously gone.

Man, you know, I, too,
crave those licorice pastels.

And I doubled back
after you doubled back.

Liar. I ate them all,
sucker.

Liar! You ate all of
them but the black ones.

I don't eat my own, Shawn.

You suck it.
You suck it.

Suck it!

All right, what did
you learn from Clizby?

It's Clizby.

Stop it!
Clifby?

Clizby.

Hey!
Not you, Guster.

So what have we gleaned
from the grillings?

That any one of these guests
could have committed the murders

and that they're all pointing
fingers at each other.

Like this.
Uncle!

And they all claim
that a vast amount

of dirty laundry was aired
during Billy Lipps' trial.

Apparently, they all had some
pretty damning things to say about him.

Wait a minute.
Everyone invited tonight

testified at Billy's trial.

That means we all played a
role in sending Billy off to prison,

an experience he
claims was a blessing,

but I believe deep down
he's resentful and bitter

that his wife
was stolen from him

by that beautiful bastard-face
dancer Derek Hough, his words.

Though I, too, would have
chosen the word "Derek."

Plus he was shivved by
an androgynous desert thief.

Oh, my God.

Billy Lipps didn't invite us
here tonight to celebrate.

He invited us here
to exact revenge.

Highway Harry and Rip
were his first victims.

But he is planning on
taking us out one by one

by one by one by one
by one by one.

So he's going to kill
four more people?

No. He's going
to kill five more people.

Two plus one plus one plus
one plus one plus one is seven.

Let's talk to Lipps.
Yeah.

Lipps split.

The other guests
are in grave danger.

Everybody, listen up!

When I call your names,
you answer.

Martin! MARTIN:
Detective, I have rights!

Leslie! LESLIE:
I'm fl, fl, flab...

Flabbergasted?
Clizby?

Man, you
know I'm in here. Guster.

Guster?
Gus?

Gus?

Gus?

Oh, no. Billy must
have taken him.

How in the hell did
Lipps get out of the den,

into the living room, and abduct
Gus without anyone seeing him?

This is all my fault.
I left him.

And I brought him
as my plus-one.

This should have
been you, Jules.

Shawn.

Rumor has it that
the secret chocolate room

is somewhere
off the living room.

Gus?

All I know is
I've got a frozen body

and your alibi
doesn't hold water.

Now start talking!

Did you
go looking for the chocolate room?

You deserved better,
my magnificent friend.

Toupees.

Oh, no. Gus.

I... I... I thought,

I thought it was
the chocolate room.

I know you did, buddy.
Come on, let's,

let's get out of you here.

No, no.
Come on.

You can do it.

I found Gus.
He's all right.

He doesn't look all right.

I thought it
was chocolate. I know.

I've written a new song!

How the hell did you all
get out of your rooms?

I've written a song!

Yow, yeah!

'Cause I'm a genius
in me own genes.

Gather round.
Come on, people.

Oh, after-party
will be in my pants.

It's a hit song
that I have penned...

In memory of my mates,

Rip and Highway Harry.

Or they were murdered

and I don't believe
that the soul rests

when it's struck down like that.

Pretty sure

it just floats around
in the ether

and haunts people like...

Beetlejuice.

All right,
enough of this nonsense.

You're under arrest, Lipps.

I was speaking English, right?

It's a long road, my brothers

And we travel it alone

Together we ride forever

Forever, to the other side

It's a long road

Wait a minute,
so he's riding solo

to the other side or...

I think he starts off alone,

and then he joins
his friends. I think.

They're waiting for
him? I don't know.

It's unclear who he's with.

Together, alone, alone

Alone, alone, alone

Alone, alone, together

And together, alone, alone

Alone, alone, alone, alone

Billy, move!
Don't move, Billy.

Together alone

That is quite a mess.

Yeah...

Sucks to be Clizby.

Oh, man.

I don't know what the hell's
going on around here, Lipps,

but don't go thinking
you're in the clear.

You've got a lot
of explaining to do.

Oh c'mon, Lassie!

Someone just tried
to squash him with this

majestic and mysterious...

What is this thing?

It's a chandelier, Shawn.

Um, can I make a phone call?

Phone call? To who?

I have to talk to my shrink.

It was Rip who actually
turned me on to her.

She's been working
miracles for us.

Helping us to get back all
the years that we lost to drugs

and um...

Late night games
of "Clock Me Noggin."

That's a white man's game.

It's true.
Pull yourself together, man.

You can call your quack
right after I figure out

which one of these
three's the killer.

O'Hara, cover me.

Curt Smith!
What?

This is awesome.
What are you doing here?

Billy invited me.

I'm producing his new album,

Curt Smith,
Duets with Curt Smith.

How are you, mate?

Well, Billy, I've been
shot in the diaphragm...

And I'm fairly certain
I was also attacked by

an adult panther?

Emma, sure.
Did you say "shot"?

That would explain
the shot we heard.

Oh my God,
this man is very weak.

He's lost a lot of
blood. We need to.

Ele-Ele...

Elevate!

His feet.
Yes, please.

One, two, three!

Bend his feet.

Elevate his legs!

He is deceptively heavy!

Let me through.
Let me through.

Oh. It's okay, Curt. It's
really just a flesh wound.

Don't think about it, okay?
Don't think about it.

Why don't, why don't
you sing us a song

from your new Duets album?

All right.

The first one is a special
version of Billy Boy.

- Oh, Billy Boy.
- So I start...

Where have you gone,
Billy boy, Billy boy?

And then I come in.

Where have you gone

Charming Billy?

Is your name Curt Smith?

No, it's not.

This is really serious.

It's so serious.
It's very, very serious.

- I have to get...
- Go!

Okay, yes, I will.

O'Hara,

get on the phone
and call the paramedics.

Hopefully the storm
won't slow them down

and cost this man his life.

Although odds are it does.

I don't suppose
you saw who shot you?

I did, yes. They were
gripping an ice pick.

And I saw the face clear as day.

It was...

No!

No!

The legend that is
Curt Smith is dead.

Your hand is on
the gentleman's head.

He's still alive.
Oh, thank God!

All right.

One of you is the killer.

Now fess up.

What father?
He's never met his father.

You were our bumber-one
Snoopy back in the gay.

The killer is not in this room.

Really?

I'm sorry.

The killer is in this room.

Is the killer in this
room or not, yes or no?

Yes. Yes, the
killer is in this room,

or, yes, the killer
is not in this room?

The
killer is Leslie, the groupie.

That's right.

You hop-scotched from bed to bed

with rich rock stars
back in the day,

and it led to a pea in your pod.

The question is,
who is the daddy?

Wasn't so easy to force
a paternity test back then.

So you were left to raise
your child all by yourself.

Years of bitterness
fueled a vengeful fire

made from flames,

and you came back here tonight

to off all
the potential daddies,

one by one by one by one by one.

I'm also sensing that
you lifted a few items

with DNA on them this evening.

What a brilliant
yet murderous plan.

Come back here, take out
all the potential daddies,

use DNA to figure out
who the real one was,

and then collect money
from their estate

to better support
your child. Ah.

Okay! I took
all the items.

But it was only because
I needed some extra cash.

I was going to put them on eBay.

I was hit hard by the rece,

rece-re-re...

Recession!

Yes.

But I never, never hurt anyone.

And I know who Germaine's father

really is.

Gus, you have
another kid. Shawn!

From our one night of passion.

I remember it so clearly.

You were a vision
in your birthday suit.

And on that same night,

Melinda Lane was found
dead in the guest room.

We were sleeping when I
heard Billy screaming for help.

I rushed to the room
with Martin,

and you stayed behind...
Yes.

In a deep sleep
from all of the alcohol,

Quaaludes, and Clizby.

Oh, I obsessed over

whether to tell you
about Germaine,

but the combination of you
having four other children with

four other groupies...

Clizby is the Shawn
Kemp of butlers.

You know that's right.

And the risk of the other
band members being jealous

because I was only
sleeping with the butler.

I was worried they
would fire you, Clizby.

Well, Spencer,
your whole Leslie theory

doesn't seem to be holding
water, now, does it?

Just, you know, for the record,

I'm pretty sure that
Leslie and I had sex.

I didn't sleep with you, Billy.

And I didn't sleep with Rip.

And I certainly didn't
sleep with Highway Harry.

She's right. We never did it.

It was, it was like
shooting pool with a rope.

Freeze!

You put that gun on
the floor and kick it over.

Harry, mate! We
thought you were dead.

Where have you been?

I backed oot,

I yoke up, every
blonde was blonde.

Yeah? Pound of buns in the yard.

Hovered the rocket
boom. Zit.

He blacked out, woke up,

everyone was gone,
found a gun in the yard,

and then discovered
the chocolate room,

and that was it.

You tell me where that
chocolate room is right now,

or I will kill you myself.

I don't stone bender.

What?
He doesn't remember.

You sumbitch.

But then who hit Harry
on the back of the head?

Oh, be Bob.

Bit me with a bot and baldy
to groove out of her blazemint.

His mum hit him on the
back of the head with a pot

and told him to move out
of her basement. Yeah.

You live in your
mother's basement?

Don't judge me.

Don't judge me!

Okay, so someone
in this room killed Rip,

dragged him to the freezer,

dumped the murder weapon
in the front yard,

shot Curt Smith,

and orchestrated

the colossal-chandelier trap?

She's summarizing,
the female detective.

She's giving us a summary
of the night's events.

My point is that
perhaps it wasn't

one person who
committed the crimes.

One person didn't commit
all these crimes.

It had to be
more than one person.

Yeah, I'm pretty sure
I just said that.

I mean, think about it.

How could one person
have pulled all this off

- without an accomplice?
- Very interesting.

Well, Lassie, what do you
say we put Juliet's theory

to the test?
Thank you, Shawn.

Whoop!

Perhaps it was Rip

who killed Melinda
all those years ago.

Apparently Rip and I got
into a huge brawl

years ago over Melinda Lane.

He thought she was
toxic to the band.

After all, she was toying

with both Billy's heart
and Harry's heart.

She was a cancer to the band.

Rip wouldn't allow it,
so he killed her.

You son of a bitch!

And Rip's mind was such mush,

he probably didn't even
remember committing the murders.

But then, he started
seeing a shrink,

and all the lost
memories came back,

including the murder
of Melinda Lane.

Riddled with guilt,

he confessed to Billy
what he'd done.

And after five years
in prison for a murder

you didn't commit, you snapped.

And you picked up an ice pick,

and you chased him
throughout the house!

And you caught him, and
you plunged the ice pick

into his back, killing him.

And then you almost threw up,

but you didn't.

And you bent down
and you grabbed his warm,

thick, heavily tattooed arms

and began dragging
his lifeless corpse.

You dragged Rip's body
through the kitchen

and hid him in the freezer.

And went on with your evening.

But then I came
strutting through the door,

and you were
stricken with panic,

you had to get rid
of the murder weapon.

Indeed!
To the porte-cochère.

And so you snuck into the
yard to dispose of the ice pick.

Where you saw Curt Smith.

What are you...

And you shot the
legendary rock icon dead.

He's not dead!

You son of a bitch!

Boom.

But then who tried to kill Billy

with that big,
monstrous chandelier?

Chocolate dance, chocolate dance

Chocolate dance

It's an entire room

You know, it's funny,

I don't have any real
clarity on that one, Burton.

Oh, never mind.

Yeah, just file that one
under accident.

That's a lot of nonsense.

Rip didn't kill nobody.

He was in the room
next to me all night

snoring his ass off.

Which means I didn't kill Rip
because he didn't kill Melinda,

which means I was
never in the yard

dumping any murder weapon

because I didn't murder anyone!

Except for Melinda Lane.

I guess I still murdered her.

I'm sorry, sweetie.

It looks like this
multiple-killer theory

isn't holding much
water at the moment.

And you're right, Billy.

So everyone get comfy,

'cause I'm gonna tell you

how the real killer
pulled this off.

Melinda Lane
wasn't the real muse

behind the band back in the day.

The real muse

was the first
card-carrying member

of the Wilt Chamberlain club,

makes the tastiest snacks
this side of the Pecos

and also has a gift
for whistling

undeniably catchy melodies.

Isn't that right, Clizby?

You see, Billy Lipps
and the guys behind him

had been stealing your tunes
and cash for years... Shh.

And all you have to
show for it is a $25 watch?

That Swatch was $50.

Melinda.
Plus tax.

Melinda. And five
dollars for the engraving.

Billy! These wrap-ups are
based on rhythm. I'm done.

Melinda kept taking
all the credit

with the press for
being the inspiration

behind all the band's hit songs,

and one day, you looked
in the mirror and said,

"Man, I'm done
with these Dapshats."

And after you did the special
whoopee dance with Leslie.

Reloaded and ran it back.

You snuck into the room Melinda was
sleeping in, and you smothered her good.

- That's crazy, man.
- Is it?

Years later, Rip, after
intensive psychotherapy,

started filling in the blanks.

He realized it was you
who killed Melinda.

Came here to confront you.

You ice-picked him.

And were looking for a better
hiding place for your murder weapon

when Curt Smith,
legend that he is,

found himself in the wrong
place at the wrong time.

May he rest in peace.

He's not dead.

Of course it was you, Clizby,

who loosened the screws
on the ginormous chandelier,

knowing full well that
it was Billy's magic spot,

and it was only a matter of time

before it fell and crushed
that pasty, thieving ass.

Clizby! Say it isn't so.

I only have one
black friend. It's you.

And I just don't have the time

or resources
to find a replacement.

Hello. Who are you?

Fine.

It was me.

Those cats have been
stealing from me for years.

I whistled the melodies
of their two biggest hits.

Randy, Party of One
and Sloppy Thirds.

And Curt. He stole
from me too.

I got no credit for
Sowing the Seeds of Love.

That's a hurtful lie Clizby.

Hands behind your back.

Time to go to jail...

Clizby.

Stupid name.

Don't worry, Curt.

We're going to be with
you the whole way, mate.

Oh, where have you
gone Billy boy, Billy boy?

Oh where have you gone
Charming Billy? Charming Billy!

You're gonna be fine, Curt.

Just a flesh wound, baby.

Be good as new in no
time. You're a trooper.

Curt Smith
sings with Curt Smith.

Oh, God, no!

Somebody should probably
call animal control, right?

Yes!

Great.

Now...

Gus and I are going to go home

and make love to our wives.

We're not married, Shawn.

Billy Lips didn't kill Melinda
Lane all those years ago.

It was the band's manager,

Highway Harry.

Isn't that right? You
were in love with her.

But she chose Billy over you

in this rock and roll triangle.

Years later, Rip, after
intensive psychotherapy,

started to fill in the blanks.

He realized it was
you who killed Melinda.

You were here
crashing at the mansion.

He came to confront you.

You snapped.
Ice-picked him.

Dropped his car
on the side of the road.

Shoved his body in
the freezer, after all,

who better to pin a murder on than the
man who just got released from prison

for murder.

Oh, are you talking about me?

I sure am Billy.

Attempting to find a better hiding
place for your bloody icepick,

Curt Smith, legend that he is,

found himself in the wrong
place at the wrong time.

What are you...

Oh, where have you gone...

Shawn!

Billy boy, Billy boy.

He's in a better place now.

He's not dead.

Of course it was you Harry,
who loosened the screws

on the ginormous chandelier

knowing full well it
was Billy's magic spot.

And it was only a matter of time
before it fell and squashed him dead.

Highway!

Say it isn't true mate.
We're the best of friends.

We're good friends,
we're decent fr... Okay,

we don't like each other at all,

but still it hurts,
this betrayal.

Mopay!

I dig it!
He said, "Okay, I did it."

Hands behind
your back, mush brain.

Barbara Wallers,
Bergdorf Goodman...

Stop it!
Big kits!

You can make those jokes
anymore.

Don't start that again.

Don't worry, Curt.

We're going to be with
you the whole way, mate.

Oh, where have you
gone Billy boy, Billy boy?

Oh where have you gone
Charming Billy? Charming Billy!

You're gonna be fine, Curt.

Just a flesh wound, baby.

Be good as new in no time.
Curt Smith sings with Curt Smith!

Oh, God, no!

Somebody should probably
call animal control, right?

Yes!

Great.

Now...

Gus and I are going to go home

and make love to our wives.

We're not married, Shawn.

Rock Bottom is quite a read.

But how could Billy remember details
about the night Melinda was killed,

when there is an entire
decade that he can't remember.

Martin Kahn.

Rip and I's shrink was
helping us to remember

all the years we lost to drugs.

He said you weren't present
the night Melinda was killed.

But that's true, is it?

I rushed to the room
with Martin.

No. Billy didn't
kill Melinda.

You did.

You were in love with her.

But she only had eyes
for the band.

But you weren't about to
lose a girl to these deadheads.

I mean after all, you went
to Harvard, am I right?

Class of '86.

1986?

Man that's a lot of bull...

You were this close
to getting away with it,

but then they reopened the
cold case for Melinda Lane.

Luckily you were in the
midst of writing Rock Bottom

and had a rocker who couldn't
remember years of his life.

So you started planting
information in the biography

that pointed to
Billy as the killer.

It worked like a charm.

You were to prison and got
shanked by an androgynous man-boy

with a massive sweet
tooth. Appetite, sure.

Rip found a shrink who
helped him fill in the blanks.

He realized it was
you who killed Melinda.

And he came here
to confront you,

you were hanging out, working
on a sequel to Rock Bottom.

You ice-picked him.

And were looking for a better
hiding place for your murder weapon.

Curt Smith, legend that he is,

found himself in the wrong
place at the wrong time.

May he rest in peace.

He's not dead.

Of course it was you, Martin,
who loosened the screws on

the ginormous chandelier, knowing
full well it was Billy's magic spot.

And it was only
a matter of time.

Everyone got what
they had coming.

I'm the smartest guy
in the room.

I should always win, always.

Hands behind your
back, professor.

There we go.

Don't worry, Curt.

We're going to be with
you the whole way, mate.

Oh, where have you
gone Billy boy, Billy boy?

Oh where have you gone
Charming Billy? Charming Billy!

You're gonna be fine, Curt.

Just a flesh wound, baby.

Be good as new in no
time. You're a trooper.

Curt Smith sings with Curt woo!

Oh, God, no!

Somebody should probably
call animal control, right?

Yes!

Great.

Now...

Gus and I are going to go home

and make love to our wives.

We're not married, Shawn.

You're invited lucky you

To a party, whoop-de-do

There'll be wine
and cocktails too

Who's your host?
I wish I knew

You're invited

Don't be a D-bag and be late

You have a plus one