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I guess late at night is when the cockroaches come out.
So sorry. Was this yours?
I didn't know you was here, sir. I thought these were just garbage.
You think I eat garbage?
Like some kind of a trash compactor?
Like you? -No, no, I...
Relax, man, I'm just having fun.
-I'm Russ. -Yeah.
Oh, God!
You broke my damn arm!
I'm from Fillmore-Graves, and we don't play.
Look, Clive.
My dinner has a hat on it.
See, these brain rations aren't so bad.
Nothing tastes as good as skinny...
Feels?
The incinerator is the only place we know Bruce has been.
Keep your eye on that door.
Dear Diary. Some mid-year resolutions.
Learn to love dieting.
Stop flirting with the mailman.
And catch Bruce Holtz,
the serial-killing, human smuggler
that Clive and I have been staking out all week.
Poor Clive keeps sifting through the evidence,
hoping to find something more than my vision
that can connect Bruce to the victims.
But those odds seem bleaker
than finding a pair of size eight Manolo Blahniks
at a Barney's Warehouse sale.
And so, I couldn't help but wonder,
had this hopeless romantic brain just left me hopeless?
Being hot-boxed by Carne Asada here isn't helping.
But Bruce isn't the only mystery man keeping me up at night.
Tim. My lobster.
My Dawson.
My soulmate.
That dreamy smile.
Liv? -Those sexy, piercing eyes...
Not this again.
Lips so perfect, I keep asking myself--
You're a secret mean girl.
You don't even know his last name. Look. You wrote, "Mrs. Tim's wife."
Clive, what's even in a last name?
-Accountability. -Overrated.
All I need, is for Tim to come back
to human-zombie night so we can rekindle our flame.
-Ugh!
Here, Seattle.
It's too easy.
I'm glad something is.
Since it's been three days, and no one can find
the camera phone video of Tucker Fritz
getting called up to Team Z by our very own cadet.
What's the plan to correct this situation, Lillywhite?
We're gonna start hitting places where zombies aren't exactly welcome.
-Dead Ender territory. -Good.
Get it done before this video bites us in the ass.
We get it, bro.
Do you, Gladwell?
Then you also must get that the only reason
you're not a popsicle already
is because those breeders don't know what they have.
They have a video of me scratching a douchebag.
They have a video of a Fillmore-Graves soldier
scratching an unarmed human civilian.
That's America's worst nightmare.
Find the video.
Before Tucker and his friends figure that out.
Tucker.
You can't be here anymore.
-Yeah, but-- -Pop, easy does it.
You can make an exception, can't you? Just this once?
One beer.
For old times' sake.
Rosie just walked out on me.
Wasn't even a discussion. Just, "Sayonara, dickweed."
Sackman, where are you going? -I think he's giving Rosie a call.
Hell yeah. I think he's heading straight to her place.
Thanks.
You're not gonna put hot sauce in it, are you?
Because I think I'd puke.
Let's get a refill.
So, how's zombie life?
It sucks.
I'm kind of a mess, actually.
You remember the first time we got hammered?
Yeah. Yeah.
With those girls in the 10th grade?
-Josie and... -Mary Ann.
Ooh, I love me some Mary Ann.
So much, that when she took that cheap-ass tequila out of her backpack,
I tried to down the whole thing in one rip--
And then you chucked it right back up,
all over that lacy-ass shirt that she made you dry clean.
That night, when I was a mess, you made sure I got home safe.
Took care of me.
You've always done the right thing, Tucker.
Now shouldn't be any different.
Talk to me, all right...
You'll be all right.
I'm not gonna be a zombie. We made a pact. So do it!
Hey, no. No. Hey. Don't do that. He doesn't mean it.
Do it!
Come on.
Tanner, Tanner, Tanner.
When are you gonna get it through your thick skull
to lock the back door?
It's these back-to-back night shifts.
I get all scatterbrained.
Yeah, I'm gonna scatter your brains across the wall
if I hear any more bitching.
I know plenty of zombies that would kill for your gig.
I dunno, Blaine. Maybe we should give one of them a call.
Maybe.
But then, of course, we'd have to trick them into working full-time without benefits.
And we never pay overtime, which even I feel bad about.
So, how about we just take the path of least resistance?
And, Tanner, you learn how to lock the door.
So, I'm...
Underpaid?
-Tremendously. -No.
Tan-man, why don't you go fix yourself a club soda?
Have you lost your damn mind?
I'm sorry, I'm on these loose-lip brains, hence, the loose lips.
Do you know I sleep completely naked?
-I'm not surprised. -Yeah.
Look, Chase Graves wants me to track down this old lady
who runs a coyote organization, code name "Renegade,"
so I took one of my 16 zombie cures,
turned one of her old customers back into a human
so I could eat his brains, so I could get his visions,
so I could find this "Renegade."
-Uh-huh.
Oh, my God!
We're gonna be billionaires!
No, no. I am a potential billionaire.
You are a man who's desperate to prove his loyalty to me,
so you can reap the benefits of my success.
That's fair.
So here's your chance.
I need all eyes on deck for these Renegade visions.
You have nothing to fear
but perhaps spilling your deepest and darkest secrets.
Why not? I am a team player.
After all, there is no "I" in billionaire.
-There's two. -There's three.
The third is silent.
-To life,
liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
You know, I've never been happy.
Not even as a child.
Oh, this is about to get real.
So, I swear, I'm not making this up.
Larry, Moe and Hurley.
Their names are Larry Nunn, Moreece Dubois and Doug Hurley.
Larry, Moe and Hurley. That's insane.
It'd be insane if the last one was Curly.
Like the Stooges.
So, I cross-referenced these victims with their missing persons reports
and all of them were...
All of them were from outside of Seattle, all were from wealthy families
and all contacted one Bruce Holtz through the same message board.
So, let me show you.
-Ooh! -"Liv from The Scratching Post.
Tim, my blue crew twinsie.
You stole a kiss, then stole my heart."
Liv, you didn't.
You did not post a Missed Connection...
"I believe in feta"?
Fate!
I was very hungry.
"And I know you felt our soulmate bond.
I'll be at human-zombie night again this Tuesday.
Meet me there.
I wanna spend the rest of my life decomposing with you."
What
It's zombie romance.
-No. -No, no, no, no.
It's desperate.
It's what someone would point to
if you decapitated a stranger at the back of a bus
and they were looking for warning signs.
Speaking of, if Bruce found all of his victims
on this message board,
we should try to contact him the same way.
Way ahead of you.
We should make our potential mark sound rich.
Still way ahead of you.
"Dr. Alistair Manningham-Chabra.
I rowed at Eton, bowled for the Cambridge cricket team.
I currently reside at a 1200-acre estate in Basingstoke,
though, for my sins, I find myself here
on what I presumed would be a brief business trip.
Please, you must help me return to England,
to my beloved wife, now pregnant with child,
no matter what cost."
I love the new accent.
Very Mark Darcy.
-Hi.
Hi.
You texted me.
Said you grabbed my coffee mug by mistake?
No, I...
Thought it was mine.
I'm sorry about that.
Okay.
Was that your attempt at orchestrating a meet cute?
It was more of a mug cute.
Or a meet cup.
Do not pile onto this parent trap.
You're really putting the "no" in Babineaux!
Excuse me. Is the art teacher brain local?
Yes, she died right here in the Rainier Valley.
Screaming like a banshee.
You don't wanna know. House fire.
Uh, and this brain, the Organic Chemist?
No, glorified intern.
Don't wanna waste your money.
Is that the guy in charge of Fillmore
Fillmore-Graves. Shh!
Hello, officers.
How are you?
-It is.
No, no, no. He blackmails me.
That fell on the floor.
Enjoy.
If my sister was as hot as yours, I'd be proud of it.
I just had a vision, talking to a couple I can barely stomach.
Renegade is operating out of a laundromat.
Nice. Which one?
There's more than one?
I don't know anything about laundromats, I'm rich.
My mom still does my laundry.
Just one less thing for me to have to worry about.
And she really enjoys it.
Hey, I forgot to tell you about the other night at the Post.
One of those Fillmore-Graves guys came in, beat the hell out of some poor kid.
I've got no problem with that.
Yeah, those big-spending horny soldiers,
they can do whatever they want.
Fillmore-Graves loves humans more than they love you.
They want you to look like humans. They don't want you eating humans.
And look what they do to zombies.
-They hate their own kind. -Right you are, my child.
Because they do not live by the Good Word of Brother Love.
-Amen. Amen.
Amen.
Their God goes by different names. Greed.
-Power. -Hell, no.
Filthy, filthy lucre.
No. -Make them pay.
Fillmore-Graves doesn't care about you.
They left you to starve in the streets while they stay fat in their ivory towers.
We know they do, and you all suffer for it.
And every devil falls from grace.
The time has come for Fillmore-Graves to pay for their sins.
And they will pay for them in blood.
-Amen. Amen.
-I said, "Amen." -Amen.
-So God can hear you. -Amen!
-So I can hear you. -Amen!
Yes!
One cup sugar, two eggs, two teaspoons of vanilla extract.
If only the recipe for love was as simple as a butter cream cake.
-Whoa.
I remember this episode of Grey's Anatomy.
I can't find Tim or the vanilla extract.
What if he doesn't come to The Scratching Post tomorrow night?
And why did I make all this food I can't eat?
Oh, God.
Oh!
Remember what we talked about?
Using police resources to find Tim is an abuse of power? Yes. But also, fate, Liv.
If Tim's a no-show, it's not meant to be,
and you're meant to party with your awesome friends.
Like, me and Ravi.
I knew it. You two are getting back--
-Not even a little bit. -Oh, please.
I could cut the sexual tension between you and Ravi
with my artisanal cherrywood tomato knife.
I know Nancy Meyers is holding your brain hostage,
so I'm gonna let one that slide.
Speaking of triangles,
how did Clive react to his lady cheating on him?
You got to tell him, Liv.
You try telling Clive that his forever person
is looser than a bucket of fishing worms.
I found it.
Oh, brother.
We're losing momentum on this. I can feel it.
I was hoping Ravi would have heard something
from our killer coyote by now.
Me, too.
Bruce must get dozens of emails a day
from people wanting to get into and out of Seattle.
Unfortunately, Ravi's email got just as much love
as my missed connection.
None. Nada. Ixnay.
What we needed was expert advice.
What those people are looking for is different than what I'm looking for.
I'm trying to find people with real need.
Those criminal coyotes that you're talking about?
They're looking for wealth, desperation, people easy to manipulate.
Can you write that letter?
Can I write a desperate letter, begging for a man to notice me?
-Shouldn't be a problem. -Good.
I'm glad to see you haven't given up.
It's not your style.
How do you know so much about me?
Oh, I have been watching you for years.
Almost as long as I've been undead.
You weren't turned by Fillmore
You know, I'm not really sure how it happened.
I just know I woke up one day with the hunger.
I got a call from a guy who said he could keep me fed for a price.
And then I had a vision.
I was looking in a mirror, and I was this homeless kid
that I used to see out on the pier.
Couldn't be more than 16.
And that's when I realized that this man that was "keeping me fed"
was murdering people.
Murdering kids.
So, I tried to stop it.
I told the police everything.
Zombies, brains, dead kids,
but they laughed me out of the office.
Three days later, my husband Max was murdered.
Somehow, they knew what I had done.
That was the first time I saw you.
At the morgue.
When they killed Max, I just...
Shut down.
Just like they wanted.
Later, 10,000 people were turned into zombies.
And I didn't do anything else to stop it.
Is that why you started doing this?
I started this for the same reason
you started eating murdered people's brains.
To feel needed.
To feel of use.
-Friendly bunch.
Major.
Isn't that our guy?
Stay cool. Psst.
-Hey, fellas.
Where's the video?
And don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about.
You want to cherish the memory?
You. Where's your phone?
I'm prepared to give you $1,000 for it.
It's your unlucky day, I guess.
My phone was recently stolen.
Stolen, huh?
By a shiftless zombie, of course. -Tucker.
Probably didn't want the world to see him
get his ass kicked by a little zombie bitch.
I wonder how tough you'd be without that gun.
Back off.
Be cool.
Listen to your girlfriend, man. Be cool.
I'm gonna need your number so I can track the phone down.
I'll give you $500 for it.
Yeah, but I know you got 1,000 bucks on you.
If you were gonna turn me into a zombie, I'd want you to do it the fun way.
You know what I'm saying?
Way to go, pal.
You just lost your friend $500.
Give me the number or you'll spend the next week
in a Fillmore-Graves re-education camp.
Or, for your dumb ass, an education camp.
I can't believe he responded.
-We're doing this. -Well, it's almost time.
-Yeah, we've been through this.
I just need to get into character.
"The rain in Spain stays mainly on the plain.
The rain in Spain..."
"Hello, Ravi. I'm a good girl, I am."
Liv, I'm trying to channel Prince William
and you sound like a garbage disposal with a vocal fry.
I thought you were doing My Fair Lady,
the OG makeover movie.
Break a leg.
Hello.
Dr. Manningham-Chabra, thank you for contacting me.
I'm so sorry you've been separated from your loved ones.
Oh...
I can't tell you what a relief it was to hear back from you.
That sculpture, it's wonderful.
Is that a Malayan or a Siberian?
It's Malayan, of course!
You've got a good eye, sir.
Oh, um...
That piece is called "La Tigre d' Oro"
and is a solid gold relic from the Cinque Terre villages.
It was gifted to me by Prince Albert, Duke of Kent.
Between us, he lost a bet.
And that's why I never drink Glenmorangie at the Grand Prix.
All right, then. Let's do this.
I'll give you a time and a place to meet,
you make sure you bring the cash.
Within 72 hours, you'll be back in Merry Olde England.
Superb.
Ravi is a good liar.
Like Sandra Bullock in While You Were Sleeping good.
You think so?
I thought he was chewing too much scenery.
You know, I'm so glad that my soulmate is a zombie.
Trying to date another human would be a disaster.
It was with Major.
I'm gonna connect with SWAT. I'll...
I think that you should break up with Bozzio.
Where the hell is this coming from?
It's just... It's never gonna work.
I know you're pretty used to saying whatever you want without consequence,
so let me draw a very clear boundary for you right now.
My relationship with Dale is none of your business. And there's not a brain in the world you could be on that would change that.
Not that it matters, because I suspect this is coming from you.
So stop.
According to this phone tracker app.
What is this place?
-That's what it looks like.
Beats a church for humans.
Let's check it out.
Whoa.
Is that the guy you scratched?
Once a zealot...
Hey, Tucker.
Can we have a word?
Hey, Tucker.
We need the phone.
The one you took.
Don't tell me you don't have it.
Okay.
But it's not gonna do you much good.
Brother Love says that the age of Fillmore-Graves' greed
is at an end.
That's right. True.
Let's go.
Our God is a vengeful God.
Just keep walking.
Every devil falls from grace.
If you shoot, they'll tear us apart.
I think they're planning on tearing us apart regardless.
Gorge yourselves while we starve.
Fillmore-Graves steals our brains.
-Repent for your sins.
-Major. -Hold tight.
We're good.
I don't think you know what the word "good" means.
All they that take the sword shall perish with the sword.
Behold.
What devil is this in our midst disturbing the house of God?
Angus?
And lo...
My eyes have been deceived,
for now we are witness to a miracle, my children.
Standing before us is the Angel of Chaos.
Celebrate our guest,
for he stormed the gates of hell,
liberating tortured zombies from their prisons.
A reminder,
that even the best of us can lose his way...
So, we will pray for you, Brother Major.
That you find your way back to your people.
The chosen people.
Mmm-hmm.
But if I ever see you here again
wearing that devil's cloth...
I'll knock your skull clean off your body.
You still mad?
Yes.
How about now?
Can we focus on me, please?
Whatever your little thing is cannot possibly compare
to my having to face a serial killer.
I told you, you're gonna be fine.
I'll be right there with a full SWAT team, out of sight.
Yeah?
But what if things go wildly wrong?
Shouldn't I have, like, a code word or something
to indicate distress?
-"Pickles."
It was the first thing that came to mind.
Probably because I just saw that guy walk by eating a pickle.
Sure. "Pickles."
But relax.
We'll take him down the second he shows up. I promise.
So, um, this place he wants me to meet him, what's it like?
You remember that adorable French chocolate store
-Yeah.
It's not like that.
Testing. Testing.
He's still not here and this place makes Freddy Krueger's basement
look like the Wonka factory.
-Stop talking to yourself. I'm talking to you.
Which is exactly what it looks like you're doing.
Relax. He'll be here.
Isn't this romantic?
-Romantic.
Just look at Ravi.
He's like Rick in Casablanca,
putting his neck on the line to save others.
I could just die.
I could just die...
Hello, Doctor.
Of excitement, waiting for you.
And here you are.
-Here I am. -Get ready.
So, you probably want your money.
-There's no rush. -Oh, pickle.
-I'll get it off your corpse. -I'm in quite a pickle.
It's a G17.
Use it for work.
I'm a security guard.
G17 is a weapon match for the gun
that killed Annie Wallace. Let's go.
So? That ain't enough to hold me.
How about this?
Is this enough?
A direct connection between you and the incinerator
where you burned your victims.
Nice work, Pickles.
Let's agree that calling me that isn't going to become a thing, okay?
-And thank you. -See you later.
Ravi, do you have the keys to the van?
You had them.
I thought I gave them back to you.
I don't have them. Could they have fallen out of your pocket?
Maybe.
We gotta go look for these, so we'll get the next one.
Elevator's stuck.
I'm not getting any service down here.
You?
Liv...
A soulmate is forever,
and forever is a long time,
especially when you're undead.
And, so I couldn't help but wonder... Is all of New Seattle settling?
Or just Clive?
Liv...
Clive.
I have something to confess.
Good. Because that "elevator meet cute" was too much.
What elevator meet cute?
What? I'm serious.
You didn't stop the elevator for me and Michelle
-No.
But that means fate willed you to have an actual meet cute,
which is actually adorable.
Then what do you have to confess?
All that weird Bozzio stuff...
The reason that I said what I did...
I saw Bozzio kissing another guy at The Scratching Post.
I'm so sorry, Clive, for everything.
I thought you would want to know.
We're in an open relationship.
Oh.
Yeah.
You don't seem like the open relationship type.
I'm not.
But I'm in love and I'm willing to try anything to make it work.
Hearing about the other guys though...
Man.
Maybe Michelle can help you work through it...
-Too soon. -Okay.
I can't believe you guys talked me into bringing you here.
Here are the rules. Two drink maximum.
-No hookers. -Aw.
-But I want a hooker. -Definitely no blue brains.
And most definitely, an order of nachos for Major.
I'm hitting the head.
Is that where they keep the hookers?
Talk to me about your blue brains. -They're all good.
Do we not check IDs anymore?
Let's see. We've got a Jewish-American princess.
A drag racer. A drag queen. A pro wrestler.
Sir?
-Hi. -Hi.
This is my first time here. I'm not sure how it works...
Well, might I suggest one of our "Brains of the Night"?
We still have a few slices of Architect brain available.
And our Young Love brain has been very popular.
"This mid-Western belle with a heart of gold
will transport you to a more innocent time."
That sounds perfect after the week I've had.
Thank you.
There. Now say goodbye to Parkinson's.
Detergent Care Laundry.
-I've had a... I'm sorry.
I just had a vision of a laundromat.
And I think my life is about to change for the better.
Oh. Good for you.
Tell me, where do you get all these brains?
Well, I'm the head of a huge criminal enterprise.
Now, I have to go do a terrible thing to a nice old lady.
Enjoy your meal.
That's great.
Greg.
Boy, if you keep eating like that, it's gonna kill you.
I have a good metabolism.
Hide, Mama.
Renegade, I presume?
Ho, ho, ho!
Merry Christmas!
Why don't you show this youngster what he gets for being so good this year?
Renegade, meet Chase Graves.
He's been looking for you.
Good work.
Great work.
We'll always have Paris.
Sweater Ravi versus Make-over Ravi.
Who will win
Or are we living in a computer simulation?
Ugh, I forgot that Sweater Ravi came with Simulation theory.
Where's Tim?
-You gave me wrestler brain!
Well, that makes me so angry!
Oh!
-Um... -I got dosed with wrestler brain!
We heard you. All of New Seattle heard you.
Hey, Liv.
How is it going with the new boyfriend?
I'm sorry, Major.
But it's only right that you should know.
I have a new-new boyfriend.
And if there's such a thing as love, he's in there.
And I must go to him.
That's cool.
You sound like a maniac.
Here it is, the moment of truth.
-Ugh. -Oh.
Hell, not again.
That is not an easy thing to see!
But I am glad she's happy!
It makes me happy!
That's very mature.
-Thanks. -You got it.
Liv, I know this is a weird thing to scream in your face,
but I hate the way we left things after our fight.
And I want you to know that no matter our politics,
I care about you.
And want us always to be friends.
Thank you, Major!
You're the best.
So, tell me about this new
What's he like?
His name is Tim.
He likes The Scratching Post.
He's tall. Uh... Tall-ish.
Or maybe he's more medium height...
I actually don't know that much about him.
I should probably fix that.
You do you, girl!
Sorry. Sorry.
-Hey. -Hey.
-Thank you. -Mmm-hmm.
Why don't we just chat a little first?
-Okay.
-Life changing. Mind blowing. -Oh, do tell.
Sunday, my friend took me to this cool new church.
The preacher, he's so intense but brilliant.
He really understands the role that humans should play
-in the new world order.
Food. Humans are our evolutionary inferiors.
And just like that,
my Prince Charming turned into a horrible, wart-covered, zombie-supremacist frog.
-To be with my friends.
My human friends who are more evolved than you will ever be.
Goodbye, Tim.
I guess I didn't need to know your last name after all.
-It's Timmerson.
No, thank you.
Did you find out what he's like?
Yeah. He was a creep.
Time for the human-zombie dance-off!
Zombies, you get the side closest to the exit.
Humans to the side closest to the kitchen.
It's go time!
Maybe looking for soulmates is overrated.
Or maybe we're looking in the wrong places.
Sweater Ravi!
I heard about your adventures with the Dutch Oven Killer.
Very brave.
Maybe our soulmates are the people who are already there,
standing by our sides, while romances come and go.
And if these are my soulmates,
I just might be the luckiest girl in the world.
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