All language subtitles for iZombie.S05E06.WEBRip.x264-ION10+NF.NTb

_

Let's just admit it,
we've all got a little monster in us.

He's a murderer!

Excuse me, hon.

Excuse me.

Sidecar. Give it some extra kick.

You got proof of ID?

Funny.

Sense of humor. Unique fashion sense.

Owner, or just work here?

Kind of both.

- It's complicated.
- You're employed.

And yet, despite all that,
let me guess... single?

- How can you tell?
- It's my job.

I'm a matchmaker. Some of my handiwork.

So, which way, boys or girls?

What?

What... What...

So, girls. Okay. Yes, I see.

I think I have the perfect one for you.

One what?

The perfect girl for you.

Excuse me.

Mr. Eberhard. This is my
son's wedding reception, and...

Yeah, just a second. Perfect for me?
How do you even know?

Intuition. Experience.

It's my job.

- If you're interested.
- So...

So, what, I just call you, and...

- Mr. Eberhard!
- What?

It's my son's wedding reception,

and there are people picketing outside.

The owner's had some bad
press recently, so...

That Blaine DeBeers
sounds like a monster.

Is he a monster?

Am I a monster?

Maybe I've crossed a few lines...

Monster!

But does that make me a monster?

You killer!

Here's the situation.

Shipments of brains
into Seattle have stopped.

We have supplies for three days.

I need you to tell me
the details of your operation,

so we can get the brains moving again.

You make these charges disappear
and get me out of here,

I'll have brain operations
back up in a day.

'Cause I can't take it.

The break-room TV is just repeating

the edited-for-television version
of Snakes on a Plane.

You're toxic.

If I let you out,
people will riot in the streets.

Well, I guess we're all
screwed, monkey fighter.

You see? Samuel I. Jackson
just doesn't work edited for TV.

Without monsters,
what would people even talk about?

The case of Carol Barbera,

the murdered matchmaker
these two are working on?

Seen it.

But, if you insist.

So, did Major fill you in
on the whole Blaine business?

Good riddance, I say.

Living the high life off
the cures he stole from us.

I say, let him rot.

What? Don't tell me you don't savor
the idea of Blaine DeBeers

spending some well-earned time
in an unflattering jumpsuit.

I can deal with Blaine
living the high life,

as long as he kept the city
from coming apart.

So, check it out.

That red button found at the
scene, not hers.

Not hers? Interesting.

No, it's not. We all know the drill.

You eat the brain, find clues...
blah-blah-blah, case closed.

But this isn't her story.

It's mine.

_

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So, what's it like being
the most hated man in Seattle?

I don't know.
I haven't talked to A-Rod in a while.

So, this is all a joke to you?

Not a very funny one.

Well, this is a waste of time.

We'll have a warrant for
his house within 24 hours.

- Then he'll talk.
- About what?

My Greene and Greene coffee table?

Or my Warhol Polaroids?

How about the mask your journalist
friend took pictures of?

It's the same one I saw in a vision.

I know you killed the mayor.

Aren't you a little...

fertilized to be having visions?

Shut up. Don't speak.

You know the drill,
lawyer's here, you're out.

Great talk, gang.

We all learned something.

Okay. Fun fact.

No one in the history
of the criminal justice system

has ever gotten off as a result
of a witticism or zinger.

Don't speak.

I've reviewed your case.

And from a legal angle,

I've seen worse.

From a PR angle, I haven't.

I'm gonna need to do some fancy
filing to see if I can swing bail.

In the meantime, what do you do?

- Speak?
- Don't speak.

I do have to get a message
to an associate, though.

Oh. Well, let me check.

I'm pretty sure it's legal.

No, I meant your retainer.
Did the check clear?

Yeah, you can tell me.

"Three hundred and sixty-five
degrees." That's the message?

You sure he's gonna get it?

Oh, yeah.

My guy is as sharp as a tack.

Look, I don't know what
you're talking about, I just work here.

You're Blaine's right-hand man.

I have a hard time believing
you don't know how his system works.

I just do what he says.
It's brain's Blaines, man.

Or... You know what I mean.

Look, I'd love to help, but...

Okay, look...

I'm gonna leave this contract for you.
Same deal we had with Blaine.

It's a good deal.
And a chance to step up, be a hero.

Well, I'll have to ask Blaine,
because it's Blaine's...

Brains? Yeah, got it.

Gentlemen.

Let's make a deal.

Stacey Boss.

_

Stacey Boss.

Thought you were dead.

I was close.

You have no idea how hot

a Bangladeshi summer is
in a three-piece suit.

You've been hiding in Bangladesh?

"Hiding"?

Working.

Bangladesh, Sudan, Ukraine.

Anywhere there's brains, I've been.
That's how it works.

I procure, Don E distributes,
Blaine does jack.

I'd be willing to solve your
little problem, right here and now.

We cut Blaine out.

Don E and I handle the brains ourselves.

Everybody's happy, except Blaine.

The catch being?

A slight cost adjustment.
Say, double what you're paying Blaine?

We don't have the budget.
I can't agree to that.

I get it. Budgets are stubborn things,
but let me just say this.

When zombies start tearing
humans limb from limb,

my price is not likely
to have come down.

Taken under advisement.

So, what'd you think?

I think I wish you'd told me
about all this in advance.

Sorry, but the pitch demanded
a dramatic entrance.

Are you in?

I don't know, cutting Blaine out...

You do all the work and reap no reward.

If the roles were reversed,
would Blaine be as loyal to you?

But I don't know if Major's bluffing.

I mean, Blaine had a good deal.

- If they don't have budget...
- You play poker, Don E?

- Not really.
- We got a winning hand.

When you've got a winning
hand, you don't fold.

No! No, we're not gonna take it anymore!

We're outraged!

Fun crowd outside.

Next time, use the back entrance.

There shouldn't be a next time.

I'm here on behalf of my
client, Blaine DeBeers.

Tanner, where have you been?
Where's the booze?

I can't run a bar with just
vermouth and this melon crap.

He wouldn't let me take it.

He says his payment didn't go through.

What? Why didn't you just
use the business card?

I tried. None of them worked.

Get on the phone, call the bank...

Don't bother. I've seen this before.

They've frozen Blaine's assets.

So, let me just give you this.

"Three hundred and sixty-five degrees."

What?

Three hundred and sixty-five degrees.

I hope it means something to you,

because he just used up his retainer.

Oh!

- Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
- Yeah?

Okay, I got it.

- Got it?
- Yeah.

Don E.

We need to ask you some questions
about the death of a Mrs. Carol Barbera.

Hey, free advice. Don't speak.

Murdered. The matchmaker,
she was murdered.

Can you believe it?

She's trying to make people happy,
ends up thrown off a balcony.

Did you meet Mrs. Barbera?

I poured her a drink.

She told me that she
had my perfect match.

You're in her brain!

Please tell me you remember the name.

When she told me, I dropped the glass.

Come on, have a vision.

Nothing?

Come on!

Was there anything else
you noticed that night?

She did have an argument with Candy.

At one point. She's in the back.

I'd knock first.

I understand, General. But...

the situation here is truly dire.

I can't state it any more bluntly.

We'll be out of brains in 48 hours.

After that,
zombies might turn on the living.

Some might try to scale the wall.

I know that you think
this is our problem,

but it could end up
being all of our problem.

Thank you, uh, Major.

We'll discuss it
and get back to you later.

Or sooner, if you can.

I don't see why they haven't just
taken care of these things already.

Maybe 'cause it's not
that easy to go next door

and murder your neighbor.

And we're talking about the lives
of thousands of innocent humans.

Hostages.

We do still have brain stockpiled
from before we cut 'em off.

General Mills, that sounds
surprisingly temperate.

I believe "nuke 'em all"
was your previous position.

It's just... I figure, it could
buy us some time.

I mean, I hear there's
progress on the CDC end.

All right, so, Glenn is
now willing to buy some time.

All right, moving on. Next item.

I have good news and bad news.

Ah, good news.
I could use some good news.

I'll start with the bad news.

Your assets are frozen.

You're unable to pay my fee.

Come on, man.

You know I'm good for it.

I don't.

The good news is,
I have an in with your judge, so,

if I play ball and I go the extra mile,

I think I can get you off
this whole thing.

If you're able to pay my retainer.

Okay.

I guess I gotta make some calls.

You made your call.

But I can call whomever you'd like.

Money? What money?
I don't have any money.

Do you know how much I make?

Tell him I do know,

I was obviously talking about
the club account rainy day fund.

He means the rainy day fund.

Yeah, it's on fumes.

All right? We don't have any customers.

Our vendors are demanding cash upfront.

Tell him there's a red bag behind
the panel under the Hefeweizen tap.

There's a bag under the Hefeweizen tap.

Should be 50 grand in there.

My client says there's
50 grand in there.

There's 40 grand.

Don E...

Could you loan me $10,000?

- He wants you to loan him...
- $10,000?

Blaine, man,
I'm not exactly rolling in dough.

Damn it, Don E! Just give me the money.

He just wants you to get him the money.

Okay, fine. I'll get it.

Okay. What the hell is this?

Oh, no.

My beautiful, beautiful home.

So, we'll just be adding
"destroying evidence" to the charges?

And why is that?

I'm the most hated man in Seattle.

Why wouldn't my house get torched?

_

You tweeted "Seattle has two days
until brain supplies run out."

How do you back up your claim?

The blue-collar workers in that plant
are my friends and neighbors.

And they told me, "No more brains."

Officials at the plant
did not respond for comment.

Back to you.

So, Commander, the joint chiefs
called while you were out.

Finally.

Alan, let's call back the joint chiefs.

Actually, sir, they, uh, left a message.

Basically, since it's the official
position of the US government that...

Fillmore Graves is a
terrorist operation,

- they do not...
- So, no?

Yes. No.

Many left are wondering if...

Oh, and, uh...

Looks like Blaine DeBeers made bail.

The house's in my ex-stepdad's name,
so no one'll trace you here.

You can hang as long as you want.

Which will be zero minutes.

This makes me miss jail.

Oh, come on, it's not that bad.

It's private.

You got the TV.

The couch.

I spent some pretty
good times down here.

I'm sure you did.

Right where you are now,

me and Pam Hagler watched
the One Tree Hill premiere.

- And I lost my...
- If you continue,

the scream I utter
will shatter the universe.

Okay, fine.
I'm going to The Scratching Post.

I am on a yacht to Ibiza.

Blake Lively is hitching a ride.

We're sharing a nice crisp Grüner.

You must be Don's friend.

All right, so, give her the rundown.

And just keep in mind,
if she doesn't pass,

your boyfriend washes up in the lake.

Okay.

So, they're toughest
with stuff they can double check.

Names. Dates.

Addresses. Stuff like that.

- You'll need to have that down pat.
- It's down.

That it? Just questions?

If you pass the interview,
they'll say you're in,

then do a group toast.

But the shot they give you
is laced with ghost pepper.

You'll need to react
to prove you're human.

That it?

Yeah. That's it.

I appreciate the warning,
Commander Lillywhite,

but I really don't need
protective custody.

Yes, I'm aware what
kind of man Blaine is.

Yeah. I'll be fine, thank you. Bye-bye.

My ears were burning right up.

What do you want?

What do I want?

You always did cut right to the
chase, didn't you?

Okay.

I wanna scare you.

Yeah, I've killed people,
your story was correct.

Hell, I'm probably gonna kill you, too.

Not now...

but soon.

I just wanted you to know,

so you could spend whatever
time you do have left

in fear, knowing it's coming.

You really pissed me off.

'Cause I showed people
who you really are.

Yeah, it was gonna happen.

Did you really think this whole

charming-rascal act would work forever?

It worked on you.

It worked on me? No.

I worked on you, dummy.

You sad daddy's boys are all the same.

You're so gullible.

- You don't know me.
- Sure I do.

You're another two-bit homicidal thug

who thinks he's unique

because, deep down,
you're special and you're different,

and you deserve admiration.

Like, from Peyton Charles.

The great love of your life.

You know what she called you?

Her greatest embarrassment.

You are a goon, Blaine. That's all.

Just an average, run-of-the-mill...

I can see the headline now.

"Child-killer shot dead."

They would throw me a parade.

You can show yourself out.

Okay, hold it right there.

Really gotta work on that, Don E.

You were holding a gun right at me
and I wasn't scared at all.

What're you doing here?

Trying to solve my liquidity crisis.

I need that list of bidders
from our zombie-cure auction,

as we still got a few cures left.

Okay, now we're talking.

By the way, have you seen
Lieutenant Bozzio lately?

Yeah, I do my best to steer clear,
she scares me a little.

Yeah, well, she's pregnant.

- Did you know that?
- How does a zombie end up pregnant?

I assume in the normal way,
just not as a zombie.

I read this article about this kid
who died of some rare brain disease,

which made her brain a zombie cure,

and it got me thinking that...

Whoa! Found it. Okay.

We need to contact
all the runner-up bids

and we should be flush again by lunch.

Whew!

You get the stuff from the safe?

Tanner took care of it.

Tanner! Bring in the
stuff from the house.

Ah, you sent Tanner?

I was being tailed, it wasn't safe.

Tanner is capable.

Here it is.

Cleaned out the safe just
like you said. Cash, IDs.

Just give me the bag.

Sorry if some of the pages
are wrinkled and stuff.

Where are my cures, Tanner?

Four syringes, in a Ziploc bag.

Oh. So, I'm going back over the
bridge, cops pulled me over.

I got two strikes,
I can't get caught with drugs.

So, I ditched 'em.

You... You "ditched" them?

I tossed them off the bridge.

Don't worry, they won't find 'em.

Strike three, monkey fighter.

You were supposed to handle this.

So, you take care of that.

You did this, Don E!

You did.

_

Of all the things I've missed
about the First World,

high-quality bourbon isn't the least.

We're still considered the First World?

You raise a good point.

But, hey, at least our
hand remains strong.

With that crazy fish lady
stirring the pot,

it's just a matter of time
before Fillmore Graves folds.

- So, I wanted...
- Get your feet off my desk.

You gonna tell me
whose blood that is on your shirt?

Just a friend.

Oh, man, what I wouldn't give
to go back to the old days.

Yeah.

When cops were cheap

and the racketeerin' was easy.

And the Utopium wasn't cut down
to basically pancake mix.

The stuff Beanpole Bob made?

The Da Vinci of the drug trade.

Beanpole Bob.

I forgot about that guy.

Whatever happened to that weirdo?

Oh, the usual story.

Got into his own supply,

fried his brain.

Hey, kid.

I respect your loyalty to Blaine,

but there is serious
money on the table here

- and if we...
- Screw Blaine.

I'm in.

U-dub Law.

So, where did you live then?

Studio in Eastlake, off Edgar.

Stayed when I started as
a public defender, 'cause I made zilch.

You do realize you'd be
putting your life at risk

to break the law if
you joined our cause.

I get that.

I mean, I love the law,

but I just wanted to make
a real difference in something bigger.

Graham says you met in high school?

Uh, no. No, we met at his school.

I volunteer there.

I love kids.

You want kids of your own someday?

Uh, yeah. I guess, yeah. Someday.

I sensed that.

Anyone in your life now?

Uh, no, not at the moment.

Because you're "focused" on your career?

No, that's just what you tell people

because you don't want to settle.

You have standards.

Don't worry, we will help you find
someone who meets them.

Should we maybe focus less
on her love life and more on,

say, her qualifications as a coyote?

Are they exclusive?

Little-known fact,
urban coyotes mate for life.

So might this guy, thanks to me.

Oh, you are not taking credit
for me and Peyton.

You tried to keep us apart.

So that you'd have to
fight to be together.

All part of my plan.

So, um...

Is the interview over?

Did she pass or what?

With flying colors.

Let's make it official.

We call this a "coyote baptism."

Oh, my.

Hey, what's this hospitality?

The doctor needs his
medicine, too, yeah?

We only have four glasses, so...

I think it's best you steer clear
of the hard stuff, Doctor.

Thanks, Mum,

but I can handle the hard stuff
better than you Yankee lot.

If you say so.

To Riley!

And now you've passed.
Just had to be sure.

Help.

Brain distribution issues with our new
supplier are being resolved as we speak.

Until we're back up to full speed,

we ask that you do ration
the brain tubes you have.

Lillywhite's assurances come amid

ongoing concerns about
Seattle's brain supply.

CHICS leader Dolly Durkins

stood by her own claims.

They're running out,

and when they run dry,

the zombies are going to come after us.

Surplus stores and gun retailers
are reporting record sales,

and police reports of
robbed graves have skyrocketed...

Looks like the alarmist view
is carrying the day so far.

Things'll calm down once
we get the brains flowing again.

Yeah, speaking of.

Transcript from our bug
in The Scratching Post.

Boss and Don E

have cut DeBeers out of the operation.

Has Seattle finally reached the end

of its tenuous zombie-human peace?

Hello, kiddo.

Uncle Stacey!

- I didn't know you were in town.
- Oh.

And I come bearing gifts.

The brain of Tibetan monk,

said to have reached nirvana.

But a humble token of my gratitude

for clearing Blaine off the board.

Please, it was my pleasure
to eviscerate the douchebag.

Is the plan going okay?

Flawlessly.
Fillmore Graves is about to fold.

I sign a contract,
resume the brain-flow,

all that's left is us
counting our money.

Hi, can I help...

- You?
- Hi.

Cute shirt.

Does it say on the
back what zombies get,

or is it the same "dead fish" idea?

We don't serve your kind here.

Oh. But if I have to shut
you down for discrimination,

you won't get to do any more
of those fun little TV interviews.

$9.50.

Excellent service.

Ah. Keep the change.

All good, boys,
they do serve zombies here.

Anyone hungry?

Mmm.

You think you and your jackbooted thugs
can obstruct my business?

You brain-eating, undead abominations...

Jeez, Mom.

Just chill out.

You gave up the right to call me that
when you became one of them.

You've been holding out on me, Murphy.

Dolly Durkins is your mother?

Not anymore, I guess.

- Wow.
- If I may speak freely, sir...

don't underestimate her.

She really hates zombies.

_

Are you mad?

Major's got a bit much
on his plate for you to set him up

on a blind date,
and you barely know Riley.

I know she's perfect for him.

Smart, compassionate,
wants to make the world better.

Loves children, and,

let's be honest,
she not too tough on the eyes.

She does sound perfect.

If only there were
a zombie version of her.

Ugh, I know. But let's not forget,

Major has a proven willingness

to go without sex for love.

I have a willingness to do what?

Oh, Major.

Do you want to meet a new
friend of mine? She's a lawyer.

- Matchmaker brain?
- Yep.

Nailed it. This is addressed to you.

- Ooh.
- I have a picture of her.

Liv, I appreciate the thought,

but unless this girl can get
a massive quantity of brains

into the city overnight,
I think I'll pass.

I'd put a ring on it,
if she had some tainted Utopium.

Peyton would understand.

That reminds me,
does the name "Beanpole Bob"

mean anything to you?

No, why?

Name came up in an intel file.

The Da Vinci of Utopium, apparently.

Uh, I can ask Clive.

See if he knows a Beanpole
from his Vice days.

Night-vision goggles?

Because the CDC couldn't find

any trace of tainted
Utopium in the vial I sent,

I had the idea

to sneak into Blaine's mansion
and steal back my cure,

with the assistance
of a cat-burglar brain

and a pair of...

Night-vision goggles.

You know I command
a paramilitary force, right?

I could have gotten you those for free.

They're only 800 bucks.

And with UFreightEze Select membership,

you can get literally anything
delivered to your doorstep

in under 24 hours.

I want to help this city
in any way I can, Mr. Lillywhite,

but this sounds like
it's beyond even me.

It might sound like
it, Mr. Griss, but...

See, we've disassociated
with Blaine DeBeers,

and our alternate
brain supplier is too difficult.

I get it. You need a supplier.

But here's the problem as I see it.

I have no clue how to
get thousands of brains.

We'll get you a TV in a day,

but our deliveries have
the advantage of being legal.

I'm not a smuggler.
I wouldn't know where to begin.

What if I told you,
none of that mattered?

Whoo! This place is deader than we are.

Can I give the girls the night off?

See, that's the problem with
your generation, there's no work ethic.

How old are you, exactly?

Old enough to know
there's always a market in vice.

We just need a fresh start.

We need a makeover.

You know what my idea
for a zombie brothel name would be?

Hmm?

Coldcocks.

Why, because of all the fights?

What?

Oh, great. Look, I told you what I know,

and if you're not here to
tell me my dream girl's name,

then who cares?

Actually, we need to talk to her.

- Um, yeah.
- What about me?

Ha!

There you go.

- What'd you see?
- It was the skull.

I saw a tattoo.
A small, tasteful skull, right here.

Tattoos. I love tattoos.

Wait, what about a name?
Did you see her name?

That's it. Now...

She's got a tattoo.

You recognize this coat, Mrs. Schwartz?

No, I don't.

Caring Light has cameras
at their drop-off centers.

We have you on tape dropping it off.

Look, I told you, I was at the
movies with Mavis Jannings,

who left ten minutes into the show

to meet her lover, Bernard Salkin.

Mutual alibis.

Mrs. Schwartz,
did you kill Carol Barbera?

She set up my son with a zombie!

Hold that thought.

Hey, you okay?

Yeah, just...

You know,

carrying a human being

and all of its associated
gestation materials inside me.

Sometimes, it's a bit uncomfortable.

- But it's not a big deal.
- Woman, please. I got you.

Let me take you home.

Maybe, we stop off at the OB on the
way, just to check?

Man,

thank you, but I'm fine,

- and...
- Hey.

- I said I got you.
- I heard.

Sounded kind of dorky both times,
if we're being honest.

- I got you.
- I...

stand corrected.

Extremely dorky.

You wanna hear the rest, or...

Oh...

Go ahead, write it down.

_

It's been three days,
they got to be out of brains by now.

When is Major gonna throw his hand in?

Patience, m'boy.

- Any minute now.
- Hey!

Have you guys seen these billboards?

Candy, men are talking business.

Sure, I just thought
you'd want to see this first.

I'm no poker player,
but it looks like...

We're screwed.

And UFreightEze will handle
both the supply chain

and shipping, which is,
of course, their specialty.

I'll give you this, Lillywhite.

You got moxie.

But we both know Ty Griss
can't handle this volume of brains.

Well,

he doesn't have your network of
Third World hospitals to plunder,

but he's gone heavily
into Western health care.

And he's including a brain
donor card in every package.

There're millions of customers a day

getting a direct appeal from one
of the world's greatest philanthropists.

And he'll do it all for 90%
of our original deal with Blaine.

So, unless you've got a better offer...

We'll do 80%.

Is that an official offer?

It is.

Hmm.

The billboards stay up.

We need a new face on
the brain business.

I'll let the brain plant know
to expect your next delivery tonight.

That's all.

What are you doing here?

Better question.

What is nobody else doing here?

We're open, aren't we?

Then why am I pouring my own drinks?

This used to be Tanner's shift.

Business has been under-booming
since your big great profile came out.

We're trying some new ideas.

Which explains that.

I had to do something.

It's our only remaining
source of income.

Speaking of which,
I don't think it's good for business

if people see you hanging around here.

So, maybe you can hang
in the back with the girls,

or in the office,

- or you use the back door...
- You just said "our only"

remaining source of income"?

You mean, besides the brain-smuggling,

which represents the
bulk of our profits?

That I mean.
We're out of the brain biz.

Please tell me you're not serious.

If you can tell me that you
didn't let that reporter

work you like a rented mule.

They got a new supplier,
it's that billionaire UFreightEze guy.

There's billboards all over town.

Why'd you have to keep the mask?

You may be out of the brain biz.

Oh, yeah!

Okay.

Oh, yeah!

Wow.

How'd you get in here? And...

How long have you been standing there?

You left the door unlocked.

I came in around the time
the riding crop came into play.

- Mmm.
- I won't keep you long.

I just need a contract drawn up.

I can't pay you right now,

but I'll make your quo
worth your quid pro.

Counselor Stone.

I need you back in my chambers,

and bring defense Exhibit D...

Oh.

I'll be in in a second,

Your Honor.

You really do go the extra
mile, don't you?

All right, what contract do you need?

Hi! Are you Darcy Bennet?

- I am.
- You got a minute?

Um. Can you run to the dining hall

and steal me a pack of instant ramen?

I'll be fine. I'll be fine.

You're here about
my Freylich brain, I assume.

I take it I'm not the first
interested party to reach out.

So, what's your best offer so far?

One guy promised 50 grand
to my family when I'm gone.

I see.

How does half a million sound?

Cash upfront.

Once my client meets you
and signs off, the money's yours...

in exchange for ownership of
your brain after your tragic,

yet inevitable demise.

Hmm. So, what, you were gonna
keep this all a secret?

The big office, the lieutenant's chair.

Acting Lieutenant.

Just till Dale's back on her feet.

How is the LT mom-to-be?

She's good, baby's good.

But she's on bed rest

for the duration. Just as a precaution.

Well, she can't be too happy about
that, but baby comes first.

Look at you,

right at home.

Born to be Lieutenant...

Babineaux.

You need anything else, Liv?

Mmm. A raise wouldn't hurt.

No.

- Can I have a gun?
- No.

- Oh, how about a squad car?
- No.

- Diplomatic immunity?
- No.

Can I have...

Mr. DeBeers.

I didn't expect results so quickly.

However,

this was not our arrangement.

I bought a postmortem brain,
not the pre-mortem human attached to it.

That's why they say
to read the fine print.

You bought a Freylich brain
upon the death of its owner.

I'm sure she'll
kick the bucket any day now.

Or not.

I could consider expediting the process

for a non-nominal fee, or...

I'd be happy to extend
this offer to the next bidder.

Okay. I can wait. It's a deal.

I'll wire the money now.

So, am I a monster?

Maybe I am.

Because sometimes,
they just don't leave me any choice.

Synced and corrected by hawken45
for www.addic7ed.com