Original subtitles

[city din]

[mysterious music]

[man 1] Murder is as old as Cain and Abel.

Remember your Shakespeare?

Who does the guilty party usually turn out to be?

[man 2] Someone close to home.

[man 1] Explain your title to me.

What The Cat Saw.

[man 2] Animals carry around terrible secrets.

That's why the killer will never see a trial.

The one sensational witness has no scientific voice.

[man 1] And the unsensational one?

[man 2] The unsensational what?

[man 1] There are two eyewitnesses to the murder.

Inside that apartment.

[man 2] Uh, how do you figure?

[man 1] Your killer is in the throes of madness.

It takes a level head to stage a crime scene.

There has to be a second person.

What makes you think it was staged?

The coffee table.

There are three fresh rings left by three margarita glasses.

[man 2] I don't mention that in my script.

[man 1] No blood spatter on the cat.

If the cat is as close to the slaughter

as you say it is...

It would be covered in blood.

And brain matter.

The cat licked it off.

That much blood?

And guts?

The cat would have gotten sick.

Someone would have had to wash the cat.

And the bloody paw prints on the floor.

And the vomit.

[man 2] The police found no forensic.

Anything.

No matching shoes.

No clothes.

That brings us back to the second person.

Sounds like a case I worked five years ago.

That ended in a question mark.

Wouldn't it be funny if your screenplay

was directly tied to my question mark?

This is beginning to feel like The Orient Express.

You following the butcher case?

The bedroom butcher?

Of course.

Weren't you involved with the first victim?

Jeffrey Hillsborough.

For a while, but his priorities lay elsewhere.

[man 1] Where?

[man 2] Bath houses.

Bathroom bars.

The steam room at the gym.

Nice guy.

He just couldn't keep his zipper up.

[man 1] That explains the butcher unzipping him.

How did you meet him?

Victim number two, ironically.

Anderson Emmett.

A kindly Doctor Jekyll until the bottle ran dry.

When Mr. Hyde reared his ugly head.

Using Anderson's head as a wine cellar.

Those two other friends of yours fared a little better.

The real estate guys?

Halton and Jose.

Nice guys.

Bitchy workaholics, but not a mean bone in their bodies.

[man 1] That real estate sign impaling them both

post mortem was a nice touch.

[man 2] Jeez, Valentino.

What do you consider light reading?

Autopsy reports?

[laughs]

[Valentino] And the butcher's only female victim?

Joanna Paganini?

How did you know her?

She was a stylist.

I met her on set.

We hit it off and became BFFs.

I always teased her about wanting to run barefoot

through her hair.

It was the best.

Butcher didn't think so.

He removed it.

Scalped her.

[man 2] All these intimate details.

Aren't you supposed to keep them under your hat?

As an actor, you've worn some murderous hats.

Which one of those hats did you relate to the most?

Victim or executioner?

If you're not careful, you'll wind up in the chamber

of horrors exhibited at Madame Tussaud's.

Their true crime section.

Your tone is more...

Addison DeWitt than Hercule Poirot.

Monsieur Hercule Poirot would ask:

[man 2] It's been five years.

The criminally insane don't get weekend passes.

Or an audience with police.

[Valentino] We all have our weaknesses.

The keen observer zeroes in on those weaknesses

and moves in for the kill.

♪

Checkmate.

To the blindsided Mr. Martinez...

the whistle-blowing Margaritas...

And...

murder.

♪

[keyboard clacking]

And we are live.

And here she is, the star of our show.

Madame Bella, who knows where all the bodies are buried.

Prepare to surrender to the gods of ecstasy.

Bella Erica.

Bello Freddy.

[moans]

Sit and praise.

Euphoria.

[sighs]

The Bedroom Butcher will retire

in turn in his blade if he had you at his feet.

Bella.

That tickles my scary bones, sweetie.

To think that I actually was at the feet

of every one of his victims.

Poor boys.

Seven funerals in three months.

I don't think I could take another one of my boys

getting slaughtered by the Butcher.

Promoted to the FBI's top ten today.

[Erica] Relax.

Relax, Bella.

He exercises restraint.

The Butcher only strikes late at night.

And...

This isn't a bedroom.

My poor Freddy.

All of them such good friends of yours, too.

Did they pin you?

Pin?

What, tie you down?

When you're a finalist for a role in a movie or TV show,

you are pinned.

And...

No.

Oh. [giggles]

Well, you have more than a damn pin to worry about.

Your ass could be the butcher's next, baby.

[man] Or yours.

Hey.

You okay, handsome?

Yeah.

Mani? Pedi?

Massage.

I got some, uh, encouraging news today.

Decided to treat myself.

What's the news?

Promotion.

Kinda prestigious.

Cool! Awesome sauce for days!

[laughs] Congratulations.

Thank you.

William B. Henry.

But you can call me Billy.

Freddy.

Freddy Martinez.

Nice to meet you.

Yeah.

Well.

Enjoy your pedi.

Bella kills it with feet.

You be careful out there, sweetie.

Yummy.

[laughs]

[Freddie] Oh my God!

To die for!

-[all laughing] -[Bella] Right?

[all giggling]

If looks were a crime, he would be ripe for execution.

And so sweet, too, Billy.

And he's really smart.

Did you know he designs crossword puzzles

for the Steak and Kidney Society in London?

Oh. A steak and kidney society?

Yeah, it's this group of aristocrats who get together

to concoct the perfect murder.

You could speak French with some of them.

Oh. Oui, oui.

Oui, oui!

Enchantée.

[laughing]

Billy is fine!

You should put him in your new murder mystery movie.

If I ever get financing.

Hey, how's my Trent doing today, huh?

My titillating Trent?

[upbeat music]

[camera clicking]

You ungrateful, plastic, tofu-eating little bitch.

You're lucky your apartment is rent-controlled,

and I'm so fond of Freddy.

You're paying for this outfit.

Like hell I am.

You're not squeezing one cent out of me.

Oh, that's right, we can't dip

into your liposuction stash now, can we?

-You little-- -You should write a D

for dry and estrogen across your has-been,

old lady big tits and your boutique moth-eating

science-fiction cooch!

And she was just rambling on about her lost loves,

and I just casually mentioned how they probably disappeared

under suspicious circumstances.

Did it ever occur to you she might be lonely?

[laughs]

Or scared to death like the rest of the city?

Her screams could wake the dead like a banshee.

I don't know why she threw such a hissy fit.

It's like no one's ever compared her vagina

to the Bermuda Triangle?

[sighs] Something scary's hiding in her wheelhouse.

A geriatric masquerade.

Forget Roswell.

Men from Mars should be terrified of crashing

into the barren, juiceless landscape

of that fossilized vajaja.

[laughs]

[voice on TV] Mr. Owen could only come

to this island in one way.

It's perfectly clear.

Mr. Owen is one of us.

[thunder clapping]

[tense music]

[Erica] That's odd.

A presiding judge calling you directly?

When is Brennan set for release?

Any day now.

Brennan probably charmed his way out.

I wouldn't put it past him.

He charmed his way in.

To your pants.

I'm sorry, baby, but Trent and I warned you about Brennan.

I know, I know.

I was a little dick-matized at the time.

But you didn't wind up in a loony bin.

You didn't jam a fireplace poker down

the throats of two friends.

[sighs]

What ever happened to that restraining order?

The judge said no.

Brennan was a model patient

and reacted well to treatment, he claims.

This whole story is a game of the mind.

You should hide your script.

-[Freddie] What The Cat Saw? -[Erica] Yeah.

Why?

[Erica] Because it reads like a dossier

if you're two years together.

If Brennan gets his hands on that,

he is one crazy pill away from jamming

a fireplace poker through your eye, too.

What happens when he doesn't take his meds?

At trial, I was the only person he was crazy about

to call him on his crazy.

Maybe the judge is right.

I mean, besides, the M.O. of the Bedroom Butcher

is completely different

than those two murders that Brennan committed.

That, uh, got him committed.

Not to mention what your cat saw.

I did, doctor, that proves less than nothing.

God, there was a time I wanted to run

like a naked schoolboy through his hair.

[sighs]

I thought Trent's fantasies were off the charts.

[laughs]

[deep voice] Raspberry puree.

[Erica laughing]

[shudders]

You know, Brennan did have a nice head of hair.

I'll give him that.

-Yeah. -[Erica] So does Billy.

Yes.

You can invite him to my orgasmic.

Die with a smile on your face.

Killer. Serial killer.

Moonlight soirée.

Yes.

[laughs] Oh, and the man who refuses

to reveal his secret ingredient

in what he calls his killer margaritas is invited too.

It's blood plasma.

From my victims.

Plasma changes colors.

And it disappears into any margarita.

For that added boost.

His brain might snap.

Might want to be executioner.

[laughing]

-Cheers. -Yummy.

Blood plasma.

Oh, crap. I gotta run.

A client is suing her husband's estate.

He dropped dead and left everything

to his mistress's pussy.

Her cat?

No.

Aw!

[laughing]

Oh, here, Raj.

Bye, sweetie. I love you.

Love you, too.

-[Raj] Bye, doll. -See you, Raj.

See you at the party.

You will.

I'm heading out, too.

-Get out? -Yep.

Be careful, handsome.

I will.

See you Saturday.

Bye.

Love you.

[Freddy] Love you, too.

[Valentino laughing]

You're not getting cold feet, are you?

[mysterious music]

[unlocking door]

Come on in.

Welcome to my palace.

I'll show you the rest of the house later.

♪

Where are you from?

[whimsical flute music]

I'm gonna show you where the magic happens.

Hm?

Come on.

Don't be afraid.

[sighs]

What do you think?

[laughs]

You're gonna make me wait, huh?

[woman] Miss Brandt.

Miss Brandt!

[man] It's no use, Miss Clayborne.

She'll not answer.

♪

It's perfectly true.

He was an innocent man on trial for his life.

I had nothing against him.

I wanted to ruin the reputation of his defending counsel

who lost the case

while his client...

lost his life.

[upbeat music]

[cheering]

Hey.

-Take your pic. -[giggles].

Cheers.

There's definitely some heat there.

Mm.

Maybe Billy is mister-- [coughs]

Ugh.

-Mr. Who? -Right.

Mr. Right.

I don't know.

Would you trust him if you met him in a dark alley?

Those brooding features.

His piercing eyes and perfect cheekbones.

Scary thick lips and prominent chin.

His face is almost as symmetrical as mine.

[scoffs]

No, there's something off about Billy.

You really should get a safe.

Having that much money lying around could...

really come to bite you in the ass someday.

Nothing wrong with living life on the edge.

Yeah, I get a few margaritas in you

and it's a serrated edge.

You really should learn to sequester

your wagging tongue.

Senora Loose Lips.

[moans]

You know, Freddy told me that Brennan's getting out soon.

Yeah, he told me too.

Any day now.

Well, I told him that he should hide his script.

If Brennan gets a hold of it, he'll--

Slam a fireplace poker through Freddy's eye?

You could justify killing someone.

Especially if they deserved it.

[dramatic music]

That's what he said.

Who?

This detective I'm seeing.

What is it with you and detectives?

Can't your junk meet its quota with like a...

a plumber? Or a priest?

Ugh. My junk loves the challenge.

My junk gets high on the masquerade.

Hm. In court, we call that junk science.

[giggles]

Oh.

First Detective Valentino DeVore.

May he rest in peace.

Damn, he was a beautiful man.

Wasn't he Freddy's go-to technical advisor

whenever he played cops?

'Twas beauty killed the beauty.

A pretty face really was Valentino's weakness.

You're lucky your DNA isn't in the police database.

Although maybe that's why you boink detectives.

Find out what they know.

I don't look anything like that police sketch.

Or any police sketch.

Digital composite.

And why are you going so Sherlock Holmes-y all on Billy?

He seems like a really nice guy who genuinely cares for Freddy.

Your trust issues are almost as bad as Freddy's.

I mean, his are justified.

Yours are just born out of suspicion.

Paranoia.

Suspicion and paranoia are fabulous motivators.

As an attorney, you know that.

And no, I can't put my finger on it,

but I am telling you.

There's a second person lurking inside Billy.

So if I want to go all Sherlock Holmes on his ass,

then I will.

Well just make sure he doesn't go all Sherlock Holmes

on your ass.

Keep those bodies buried.

♪

[Freddy] So, how does an American get a job writing

crossword puzzles for a murder mystery club in London?

And once you orchestrate three perfect murders,

you become a knight.

But it only counts if your victims

are detectives or judges.

[tense music]

♪

Shit.

♪

♪

[screaming]

[Freddy breathing heavily]

Federico Santiago Mago Martinez.

Boris Strange, Special Crimes Division.

Have we met?

Now listen closely.

As you are no doubt aware,

we have a serial killer on the loose.

The Bedroom Butcher the papers dubbed him.

I gave my statement to the police.

I know, I read it.

We have a suspect pool.

It is someone in your circle of friends.

We just don't know who.

What does that have to do with me?

You mean aside from the fact that all the victims

have been your friends.

Doesn't that telegraph something rather alarming

to you Federico Santiago?

You are in an ideal position.

The suspect is someone in your circle.

Since they already trust you.

You are the perfect candidate to bring them

into your confidence about the murders.

If you succeed, your reward will be one thousand of these.

That's in addition to the FBI's reward.

Imagine having a place of your own.

Plenty of privacy for you

and your weird margarita worshipping friends.

And you can finally finance

that murder mystery script you wrote.

What is the title?

Who the Pussy Licked.

What the Cat Saw.

How do you know about that?

Here's a surveillance kit.

Start using it.

Everything will be recorded.

I'm not a monster hunter.

Give me one good reason why I should risk my life.

I'll give you three.

To prevent further murders.

And to bring justice to the victims.

Is that so complicated?

And the third reason?

What about DNA?

-The crime scenes. -No DNA.

No prints. It's a very cunning killer.

The butcher also knows the law.

Can't you do one of those

psychological profiles the FBI does?

Do you know who he is?

A guy I started seeing.

A nice guy.

You think it's him?

That would put you in bed with a murderer.

It's best if we keep you in the dark.

Otherwise you might arouse the killer's suspicion.

And blow your cover.

You want me to go all cloak and dagger on someone I love?

Maybe even send them to prison for the rest of their lives?

And I don't get to know who it is?

[Boris] Leave that to the professionals.

So the butcher can get their emolument.

Emolument?

[Boris] It's a good word, isn't it?

It means just desserts.

Agatha Christie used it.

So have we?

Met before?

Your voice is so familiar.

♪

[train horn blowing]

[mysterious music]

Hi, Freddy.

Brennan.

How did you get in?

Your back door.

It was unlocked.

You're surprised?

No.

I knew you were being discharged.

You are hereby judge restored to sanity and order released.

And here I am.

And why here?

To let you know that I'm okay.

That I'm better.

Much better.

Since when do you wear glasses?

Um, since hitting my mid-thirties.

Not everything works as well as it used to.

Oh.

But the important things do, I'm sure.

[giggles awkwardly]

What are you doing for work?

Hm. Hm.

Massage.

This is what killing your friends gets you.

Multiple medications, weekly visits with

a counselor, and monthly drug tests.

All on the watchful eye of the court.

Last time I saw you was in court.

You didn't look at me.

It was just too painful.

[quietly] Well...

It was nice seeing you.

You look gorgeous.

How about a massage?

[mysterious music]

For old time's sake.

A real massage.

-Really? -Yeah.

I used to love massages.

♪

"What The Cat Saw."

You wrote a script.

I'm still working on it.

Hmm.

[quietly] Turn.

So?

What did the cat see?

He witnesses a murder.

You never visited me at the cage of crazy ladies.

It was a rocky breakup.

-And you were acting really... -Crazy?

I never said that word.

Not even on the witness stand.

I never stopped thinking about you.

That was part of the problem.

The phone calls, text messages,

breaking into my place and waiting on my bed, naked.

It was too much.

You were smothering me.

The meds that I'm on are...

Pretty... powerful.

[giggling]

They keep things from...

Unfastening.

[laughing]

-Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey. -[both laughing]

Hey-- [laughing]

-Hey. -[both laughing]

Come on, [indistinct].

Hey. Hey.

Hey.

I was already tried and sentenced.

And now you're trying to execute me.

[Freddy] Huh?

Three years together and you forgot.

My heart condition.

Hmm.

Agatha Christie would have loved it.

What?

The perfect murder.

[door unlocking]

[distant dog barking]

[indistinct, overlapping whispers]

[sharp, high-pithced note]

[suspenseful music]

[thunder rolling]

[thudding]

[gasping for air]

What is it? What do you want to show me?

"Spend the night in a room where the Bedroom

-Butcher filleted his victims?" -Yeah.

We've applied for the license and permit

to open the bed and breakfast.

It's the most notorious of the butcher's crime scenes.

And it has a pool.

How did they approve such a cockamamie business?

The license permit guys.

I slept with them.

Have you no moral compass [indistinct]?

Ah, compass, schmompus.

Okay, Ellery Queen. Who done it?

Who's the Bedroom Butcher?

[intriguing music]

Someone who understands crime scenes.

And police protocol.

An actor who's grilled detectives.

Or a model who boinks detectives.

Or a bartender who extracts information from

detectives via his margaritas and

their secretly seductive ingredient.

Or a sassy esquire who dates convicts.

Or a former detective with a bitter axe to grind.

[chuckling] Ooh.

Oh, that axe is bitter, all right.

Stealing evidence from crime scenes and

selling it to the highest bidder?

Until his superiors found out?

So he turned his bitterness into a fruitful bottom line.

[indistinct] pretty boy.

You wish.

[Steve] That's right, start driving.

[Freddy] All right, whatever.

You just call me pretty boy.

Oh my God, this street is as long as my dick.

-[Steve] Not as wide, though. -Shut up.

[distant chuckling]

[woman exclaiming, chuckling]

[laughing]

[Freddy] [indistinct] cake? No.

And who is this?

A tenant who didn't pay his rent on time?

Or your last escort who took one look at

you and ran into the night screaming?

[intriguing music]

May I help you?

What are those? On your face?

[snickering] Is that any of your business?

Maybe not.

It does, however, give me pause.

Paws?

Like on a cat?

No dear, pause. P-A-U-- Never mind.

Why?

What do you think these are?

Your latest STD clawing its way out?

You didn't have those yesterday.

My friend has a cat.

And I just...

blew a raspberry into his tummy and he...

freaked out.

♪

And when you say cat...

Is that code for... trick?

And I did have my own catering business, Freddy,

for 20 years back east.

Oh, did the terms of your parole require you to

relocate to the west coast?

Why are you being such a bitch?

No.

It was a crazy successful business.

I sold it for a small fortune.

That's how I bought this building and the six others.

There was even a local musical written about my company.

-[Freddy] Hmm! -Oh, and what was that called?

"Constipation Cabaret?"

"Salmonella, the Musical?"

"The Flatulence Follies?"

"Disco Diarrhea?"

Or-- Or was it "The Phantom of the...

[gagging] ...Opera?"

Seven high-end buildings from a catering sale?

No.

You stuck your sister in an asylum where she croaked.

And you inherited her millions.

How did you know?

[snickering] A detective I dated.

Valentino.

I had him do some digging into your past

before the butcher got him.

Maybe...

Maybe you're the one who buried that claw trowel in him.

-[grunting] -[Trent grunting]

[laughing]

[Trent exclaiming in disbelief]

[screaming]

[grunting]

Hello?

It's my agent!

Yes. Yes!

I-- I think she wants to sign me!

-Yeah. Yes! -[metal clinking]

[bubbling]

[fizzing]

[slurping]

[loudly exhales]

And? Do you follow up?

I used to. All the time.

But I stopped.

Why?

Because I shit a lot of agents and

their assistants shoot me new assholes.

Do you really think we're going to take the time to look

through thousands of unsolicited headshots just to

tell an Antonio Banderas wannabe who's probably going to

give up after a year and go back to whatever-town, USA?

"Yes, dear. We received your photo. Bye-bye."

-Click. -Well!

With that many rear entrances available

into the let-me-screw-you -for-a-break-in-this-industry,

I'm sure you're well lubricated with offers.

I want to get pinned.

But not from behind.

-Not like that. -Why not?

I can park your brown ass on at least a dozen

casting couches this month alone.

What's going on with that murder script you told

me about on the phone?

Uh, what was its name?

"What My Pussy Sniffed?"

"What The Cat Saw." I'm still working on it.

I might have the money soon.

Yeah, right.

Give me three words that best describe you.

Something I can give to producers.

Hardworking.

-Hypocritical. -Professional.

-Pompous. -Experienced.

Slut.

Just when do you expect to bust your wad?

-What? -Do you have a blue checkmark

-on your social media pages? -No.

Dirty comments on your reel views?

-No. -A profile on Cameo?

-No. -Raya?

-No. -Wikifeet?

No.

All right.

Let's see what stuff you're made of.

Unless, of course, the Bedroom Butcher gets you first.

-[upbeat intriguing music -[evil laugh]

Ready Freddy?

[evil laugh]

[music and evil laugh fade away]

[Billy] Two years.

Why'd you stay with them?

Was he blackmailing you?

"Leave me and, uh, I'll spill the beans about the murderer."

What the cat saw.

[Freddy] What's this?

[Billy] The Steak and Kidney Society.

Three tally marks.

Just an implant.

Or...

Does each tally mark represent something?

Like what?

A murder.

Which means new cards will have to be printed after each murder.

Like you said, a record of a killer's skills.

Hiding in plain sight.

Now who's going on Miss Marple?

[chuckling] Oh, God. Stop.

-Stop. Stop. -Ah!

Stop. Stop.

[upbeat intriguing music]

[both chuckling]

♪ Full moon ♪

♪ Brings out the monster in you ♪

[indistinct chatter]

♪ A strange tune ♪

♪ Seems to be playing for you ♪

♪ Could you be someone's invention? ♪

And we are live.

Erika's orgasmic, die-with -a-smile-on-your-face killer.

Serial Killer Moonlight Soiree in the Hills!

-[rock music] -[crowd cheering]

[indistinct] Huh?

Is that what you're saying? [indistinct]

Uh-huh! Woo!

[crowd cheering, laughing]

♪

I am so excited to be here.

I cannot wait to murder this party.

It's going to be killer.

[chuckling] Oh, did you remember your glasses?

I did.

Because now you look like Dora if you don't wear them.

Say hello to Andrew Cunanan.

-[clapping] -Yes.

-Let's go. -[distant electronic music]

Sucks for a Valentino, but yes.

People's morbid sense of curiosity is going to

make us a bundle, Rog.

Don't you think it's in poor taste, Stevie boy?

You and your hubby buying a murder house and

then selling tickets to sick looky-loos?

And you've never spent a night in a murder house?

With your love of Agatha Christie, huh?

[chuckling]

We used to.

Every Halloween.

My late boyfriend and I.

He was the Agatha Christie fan.

[smooching]

[sighs]

Where'd you get these?

It looks like you took these with your phone.

The police photographer.

I slept with him.

[both laughing]

Of course you did.

Again, who are you supposed to be?

Ted Bundy.

Dark locks, killer charisma, murderously handsome.

-[Steve moaning] -[laughing]

[imitating cartoon evil laugh]

[Roger laughing]

♪ Did you sell your soul to the devil ♪

-♪ A that monster... ♪ -Give it.

-Shall we, Mr. Bundy? -We shall

♪ ...mad, mad monster party ♪

♪ Did you sell your soul... ♪

[muffled electronic music]

Why not?

The secession alone is either

titillating or torturous.

But could that really kill someone?

[chuckling] You'd be getting off scot-free.

Not just getting off.

I guess there are worse ways to go.

Like gagging your cheating boyfriend

to death on your fat love muscle?

[indistinct guest chatter]

"Gross negligence manslaughter?"

That's just a polite way of saying murder.

Plus, look.

It's not even his real name. He changed it.

And the judge that sentenced him?

He died. Under mysterious circumstances.

To be fair, there wasn't a shred of

evidence tying him to that death, but...

I'm really sorry, Freddy.

I-- I know this isn't what you wanted to hear.

♪

Got you.

Billy.

Don't I get a kiss?

Yeah.

[chuckling] That's great.

That's great. The 'Night Stalker,' right?

Yeah.

What's that?

It-- It's size for an audition.

Awesome, let me see--

It's confidential.

I'm not allowed.

You still don't trust me, huh?

Let's get you a margarita.

♪

[cheering]

W-T-F are you doing here?

Is that any way to greet an old friend?

[snickering]

Mhm. I'm hurt.

Well, you're gonna be really hurt

if you don't hightail it out of here.

Well. Look at this.

Who sent you that?

I don't recognize the number.

Must be divine intervention.

Mad as a hatter.

-[indistinct] -As you always said.

So, tell me, Counsel.

What do you stand in the position of?

Madness.

Bird.

Backyard bird.

[sighs] You are always a goldmine of information.

Especially when you drink.

♪ Everyone will listen what they want ♪

♪ Don't hear me ♪

♪ Because they fear me ♪

♪ Everyone will listen what they want ♪

-[Steve] Blow me, pretty boy. -[Trent] Oh!

-Ugh. Raspberry. -[chuckling]

♪ Everyone will listen when they want ♪

♪ Don't hear me ♪

♪ Because they fear me ♪

♪ Everyone will listen what they want ♪

♪ They won't hear me ♪

♪ Because they fear me ♪

♪

♪ I must be the living fear ♪

Is it serious?

If you don't wanna fight it alone,

I'm gonna cut off your balls and shove them down your throat.

[quietly] Just like that.

[snickering]

♪ I'll make you notice ♪

♪ [indistinct lyrics] ♪

[suspenseful music]

[bell tolling note]

How the hell did you get in here?

This is not the forum for a beggars purse mentality.

Sometime after 11 o'clock,

the guilty party is going to show up here.

-How do you know? -A note I left.

The guilty party thinks it's from you.

What am I supposed to do?

Get the Butcher to confess.

How the hell am I going to do that?

Well, you're an actor.

You've played detectives.

Act the part of a seasoned homicide inspector.

A father confessor.

Why don't you do it?

Because, Mr. Martinez, as was previously established,

the killer does not have my confidence.

You are my secret weapon.

Don't you want the Butcher to get the just desserts?

But why now?

Why tonight?

It has to be tonight.

It stands to reason, that you...

Or one of your friends...

Is next.

And you are telling me now?

What if I mess up?

What if I say the wrong thing and he goes berserk?

How many more friends do I have to lose to this madness

in such a disgusting manner?

It is your friends you're doing this for.

To safeguard their well-being.

How are you going to protect me?

The surveillance equipment.

Where the wi-- the glass is.

How do you know he won't pull a rusty chainsaw on me?

Or a big, scary, razor-sharp machete?

Because, Mr. Martinez, we are not in Texas.

And tonight isn't Friday.

Or the 13th.

[police siren wailing]

Can you just please tell me? Is it Billy?

I see the dilemma

of losing your heart to a suspect

in a murder investigation

has gotten under your skin.

[quietly] I've already told you who it is.

The guilty party.

♪

-[music stops abruptly] -[metal clanging]

[muffled evil chuckling]

[muffled moaning]

[suspenseful music]

[evil chuckling]

[music building]

♪

What the hell are you doing?

Gotcha!

Necrophilia Nancy!

-[grunting] -Bullseye!

[evil laugh]

[grunting]

[evil laugh]

Food porn!

Raspberry puree!

[both laughing]

This is for my audition tomorrow!

Hope it's a horror flick! [laughing]

[whimsical music]

[Trent, Roger] Oh!

[Steve, Maude screaming]

Stop!

[sobbing]

[screaming]

[Trent, Roger laughing]

[Maude sobbing]

♪

[moaning]

[old-timey intriguing music]

♪

[Blore] Lombard!

[Lombard] Blore! What are you doing down there alone?

[Blore] I think I know where the doctor is.

- Where? - Well, I'm not sure yet.

And I'll wait for you.

All right, we shan't be long.

Oh, we should sequester you anytime.

Screw you.

Raspberry puree.

[snorting]

Mmm, so what?

If the star witness of the prosecution

disappear under sinister circumstances

the night before, who's going to testify

against my client?

Mmm, so what?

If that star witness ended up in my backyard?

[cackling] Six feet under.

Girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

♪

[dramatic film score]

Oh. I don't think black is your color.

Mmm.

You haven't earned it.

And you definitely haven't earned fighting, girl.

Girl.

I get it.

[Erika groaning]

[squelching sound]

Raspberry puree!

[gagging]

[thudding sound]

[cicadas chirping]

The F is he doing at Valentino's house?

Mm-hmm? Okay.

Trent?

Hello?

[faint barking]

[phone dinging]

[sighing]

[phone dinging]

♪

[mysterious music]

[pendulum ticking]

Trent?

I got your text.

And no, I don't think we should

provide raspberry-flavored condoms to the guests.

[creaking sound]

♪

[intriguing orchestral music]

How'd you get in?

Only the owner has the key, and that's this sexy beast.

[loud ticking]

♪

[Steve] You're not going to steal my thunder, girl.

Only one sausage factory's jizz

is going to buttfuck this hood by storm,

and that's this ten inches.

♪

[unearthly singing]

[fast-paced string music]

[muffled screams]

[Quincannon] I counted on everyone's

confusion in the dark.

And I counted on Armstrong, who played his part to the hit.

♪

[gentle orchestral music]

[Quincannon] I knew no one would challenge

The doctor's authority when he would say,

"He has been shot through the head."

After that, I had to play my part.

And what a part it was.

No one would suspect me,

least of all the dear doctor,

who thought that I was about to discover the unknown murder,

and was waiting for me on the beach,

and worrying about the success of our plan.

A few minutes later, he had nothing more to worry about.

Justice had triumphed once again.

Too late, he had learned

That drinking, when it gets

-out of hand, -[doorbell ringing]

can be fatal.

So you see? The whole thing--

[Freddy] Why did you kill that guy in London?

He murdered my boyfriend.

[thunder rumbling]

I walked in the crime scene. Robbery gone bad.

A-and the next thing I-- I knew,

My hands were around his throat.

[Freddy] Or your boyfriend

and that other guy were cheating on you.

You walked in on them,

flew into a rage, and murdered them both.

[thunder crashing]

[Freddy breathing heavily]

Jasper Cockley.

Can't even blame me for changing my name.

[dramatic burst of music]

Why are you here?

I forgot my keys,

and my phone is missing.

[Freddy] I thought you were out for the evening!

My detective flaked.

-Fine. -Why?

I'm working with the police.

They know who the Bedroom Butcher is.

Who do they think it is?

They won't say.

I have to get a confession.

You?

Valentino was going to arrest you.

For the Butcher murders?

No, for the murder you wrote about

In What the Cat Saw.

-Idiot. -I didn't

- kill him. It was-- -[doorbell ringing]

-Oh my god! -Hide, hide!

♪

[suspenseful music]

By the way, I got your note.

[floor creaking]

[door closing]

♪

Brennan?

How did you get in?

The back door.

There was no answer out the front.

But the back door was locked.

Where's Billy?

We split.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Really?

I thought you'd be pleased.

What happened?

He wasn't who I thought he was.

Who was he?

[Freddy] He wasn't you.

♪

I got your note.

And the script was very clever.

Your, um...leading character. The struggling actor?

He doesn't want to move in with his boyfriend,

because he's afraid of him. Because he thinks he's...

What's the word he used?

Unbalanced.

Because deep down, he just knows his life is in danger.

Because he knows too much.

Because...

Because... he witnessed a murder.

[urgent string music]

[rain gently pattering]

[thunder rumbling]

The testimony was powerful.

It convinced the jury.

And the judge.

They didn't throw you in prison, Brennan.

They recognized you needed help

If you would have visited me...

You would have seen the sort of help

you paved the way for.

I'm sorry.

Mm-hmm.

Would you still be apologizing

If you weren't cuffed to Billy and Freddy's love nest

by the bedroom butcher?

But the judge said that you were released three days ago.

A few days ago. Hmm. That crack pot should retire.

It's been over three months.

How did you choose your victims?

I followed you.

To their mini mansions, their condos.

Their townhouses. Their beach homes.

How did you get in?

They let me in. -Just like that.

Beauty is a very effective blinding agent.

I knew some of those dudes had crushes on me.

I just flirted my way through their doors.

Some I'd lure into their bedrooms

with the promise of sex.

Others fought back.

That I enjoy. The back and forth. The struggle.

How did you learn about crime scenes to cover your tracks?

Through you.

The times you invited me to set.

When you play cops. You always made a point

To talk to the technical advisor

That pretty flat foot, Valentino DeVore.

I was never too far away

[Freddy crying out, gasping]

You know, violent deaths are highly underrated.

Those armchair critics don't give enough credit

For their pizzazz and panache.

♪

[soft orchestral music]

Is that why you murder him?

I didn't kill Valentino.

Oh, come on. The lead detective on the Butcher case?

Your jealousy?

I didn't.

Or his replacement. That Aaron Christian.

I told you, my M.O. is different.

In the meantime, lover,

You and I can explore that sinister side Of love,

As you were always so curious as a cat--

[Brennan gasping, grunting]

Brennan Moreno. Reprehensible murder,

kidnapping and conspiracy to commit murder.

[Brennan crying out]

♪

[urgent music]

[Brennan grunting]

[Brennan crying out]

My lord, I was sure my intestines

were going to be window treatments.

You're the masochistic skunk?

Mm-hmm. Beauty is a very effective blinding agent.

Beauty is a very effective blinding agent.

Fred, I had no choice.

He was going to make me out to be Jack the Ripper's mistress,

And I-- My business was failing.

My mortgage was screaming, and welfare?

Oh. I-- I just couldn't.

Oh. So you hopped on the sororicide bus down Easy Street.

A-list model?

[character chuckling]

A-list Henchman.

Did you screw that star witness

before you deposited his body six feet under?

Gracias, Senora Loose Lips!

[screaming]

[Freddy] Maude.

Maude. He's a police officer.

I'm not with the police.

Who...

Who What the hell are you?

Founder of Just Desserts. We independently assess

a murderer's chances of second release

after being re-committed. The Bedroom Butcher

scored off the charts.

Why the hell didn't you tell me?

I couldn't take that risk. I needed a Salieri.

You were too much of a Mozart

That's why I called you and the institution,

Pretending to be the judge who presided over Brennan's trial,

Why the institution?

To keep them quiet about your release.

And I had to make you think

That Brennan had not yet been discharged.

It was imperative you keep that restraining order inactive.

And to get him back into your good graces,

I texted the party invitation to Brennan, too.

But why?

To find an in for the perfect murder.

The perfect murder?

I needed an equally savvy partner to assist me.

A perfect accomplice.

He also [clapping] wanted to safeguard your well-being.

Ta-da!

♪

[gentle orchestral music]

[thunder crashing]

I was aching to tell you.

But that would have ruined the show.

I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry.

♪

What the hell are you doing here?

His margaritas.

I had very little choice, after your Technicolor-laced threats.

You've got the bones for one hell

Of a crossword puzzle, Jasper Cockley.

[Brennan] You Nancy Drews don't have anything on me.

No footprints, no fingerprints, No eyewitnesses.

No blood. No DNA.

That's perfectly true.

But alas, forensics doesn't play a part

In our third and final act, my friend.

Your Witching hour visits were a welcome diversion.

And the raspberries were a lovely touch.

Are we still on for Saturday?

Right after my Golden Girls marathon,

My little henchman.

Eww!

It is your detective?

You bitches set me up.

If Michelin stars were awarded for grotesque smorgasbords,

you'd have my vote.

I've never been a fan of composed murders.

You can't do this. I have my rights.

I-- I want my-- my lawyer and my doctors here

before you take me in.

I'm not taking you in.

[ghostly roaring]

Why are you all here?

Brennan's not a member of the exclusive club, sweetie.

What was the promotion you mentioned at the spa?

The knighthood.

In the Steak and Kidney Society. Hm?

Once you...

Once you orchestrate three perfect murders,

You become a knight.

But it only counts if your victims

are detectives or judges.

[eerie music]

[Boris] Just desserts of a different confection.

You tricked me. I didn't know catching a killer

meant executing him.

You were already looking at up to three years

in a federal penitentiary.

Asshole. You promised me.

Prison time for what?

Accessory. To a murder.

[thunder crashing]

How did you write In such forensic detail

about what the cat saw,

If you hadn't witnessed it yourself?

The cat is you is it not?

It sure is. [chuckling]

Shut up!

You can't do that

Oh, yes, I can. And considering what I know

about your back story, if I were you,

I'd worry about keeping me happy.

All the guilty parties' back stories.

How exactly does murdering a murderer

Justify any of this?

[Boris] Maybe they can answer that.

[choking]

♪

[tense music]

[thunder rumbling]

[Freddy crying]

[Boris] I understand!

But I can't have any damage to the body.

[Maude] What's in the photos?

[scoffing]

All right.

Immobilization topography.

[thunder rolling]

Defiance insurance.

Muzzle.

Last rites.

Blow it out your ass.

-[all] Amen. -[Roger] Amen.

Amen.

[Boris] Weaponry?

Gentlemen, and lady.

Just desserts!

[group laughing]

♪

[eerie organ music playing]

[hysterical laughter]

[train bell ringing]

Blood plasma from my victims

disappears into any margarita

for that magical boost.

[Billy] Valentino Was going to arrest Freddy.

As Brennan's accomplice.

The true crime you wrote about in your screenplay.

He shared his suspicions with his detective partner,

Aaron Christian.

That's why he cozied up to Trent,

To extract information about our Freddy.

The killer didn't want their money.

He wanted their silence.

To protect you.

That would fit.

He probably followed him to a bar,

Seduced Valentino and, like Brennan said,

Beauty is a very effective blinding agent.

♪

[mysterious music]

Valentino fell for it, and paid for it. So did Aaron Christian.

If he hadn't, I would have done the job myself.

What are you going to do with the money?

Meow!

[laughing]

To What the Cat Saw.

And to the art of the perfect murder.

♪

[intriguing orchestral music]

[distant barking]

♪

[eerie music]

♪

[intriguing orchestral music]