All language subtitles for lethal.weapon.s02e05.720p.bluray.x264-demand

- Thank you.
- Good luck.

Three horse
to win in the second.

That's a big bet, Howard.

Are you sure?

I'm feeling lucky.

That's all yours.

It is another
lovely day for a race

here in beautiful
Santa Anita Park.

Race number two coming up...

- Table for one.
- Of course.

Does the gentleman
require a jacket and tie?

Yes.

...along with newcomer
Demi Mare.

Demi Mare,
as you can probably guess,

is a California girl.

Another time, maybe.

And they're off.

Three horse Demi Mare
had a bit of an awkward start.

Temper Steed broke well.

Saddle Lass is up on the pace.

Come on, three horse.

- On the far outside...
- Come on, Demi!

...Demi Mare going up
after the tardy start,

all the way
to the battle of the leads.

Misty Grace is next,

as Saddle Lass leads the way
into the backstrech.

- And Demi Mare...
- Come on, girl.

- ...is now second through the quarter...
- Come on, Demi!

- Come on.
- At the post...

Come home to Papa.

Demi Mare!
And it's the three horse,

Demi Mare, for the win!

Demi Mare, paying 88 to one.

Gone. All of it.

Gallon of milk, pizza, all the
fruit I cut up for the weekend.

RJ raided
our refrigerator again.

Why am I paying

for a meal plan for this kid?

At least he left
a thank you note this time.

He should've left cash.
From now on,

market price
for each piece of food he takes

comes out of his inheritance.

It's a good thing
he forgot the ribs.

He didn't. Read the note.

He has gone vegetarian.

Okay, now he's out of
the will altogether.

Honey, please tell me you're not
still working on that will.

I'm still tinkering
with a few items.

- I got to get it right.
- Roger, come on.

Add Harper and divide by three,

and be done with it.

I, personally,
am tired of discussing

our demise every morning.

It's more complicated than that.

It's about insuring my legacy.

Oh. Your legacy.

Without one, a man has nothing.

- Oh, cr...
- Hey, I need to use y'all's shower.

Hey, you, and what
happened to yours?

They took it.

Someone took your shower?

- They towed it.
- Wait a minute,

who took your trailer?

The city... oh,
and here's the best part:

they said I was
trespassing,

in my own house.

What? Here, baby.

- Thank you.
- Let me see this.

- Where the hell's all your food?
- It... no, it says

that you were parking
on public land.

I'm part of the public.

You know?
And isn't there some law

that, like, protects
this kind of thing?

- What law?
- The law

that says,
you know,

he, who which... parks his house

on thy land,

gets to liveth... there.

Not a law.

You're talking
about the Homestead Act...

The Homestead Act, Rog.

...of 1862.

- Ooh, 1862.
- I'm not sure that applies.

Martin, did you call
the number on here?

What am I gonna do?
Give the city of Los Angeles

a tutorial on the laws?

I think not.

Can I speak to counsel

in her chambers, please?

No, no, no,
no, no, no, Roger.

- No.
- Look. Hey.

It's just a few phone calls.

- What's the big deal?
- I can't help him.

He is squatting on
public property.

Well, if he doesn't get back,

guess where he's gonna
squat next?

Hi, I'm sorry.

What are the chances we can get
a fresh pot of coffee?

And some eggs
to go with those ribs?

I'll see what I can do.

You guys leaving?

Life's too short, man.

How bad could it be?

Detectives Riggs and Murtaugh.

Took you
long enough.

Leo.

What the hell's going on?

My friend and client Howard
Trotter has been murdered.

Sorry to hear that, Leo.

Why the EMTs and the coroner

all, uh, what's the word
I'm looking for?

- Oh, "fleeing." Yes.
- Fleeing.

Because I told them
I would sue them

if they tried to move his body.

That's their jobs.

They were contaminating
the scene of the homicide.

You're welcome.

It wasn't a homicide.

- Uh...
- Eyewitnesses says

that he collapsed watching
the race, and had a stroke.

Okay. Does this look like the
kind of man who has a stroke?

Believe it or not,
he was the picture of health.

Maybe the before picture.

Come on, Leo.

Guys. Who are you
gonna believe here? Me,

or the B-team?

Excuse me?

You did not
just say...

Oh, B-team.

'Cause of our last names.

Exactly. That's-that's
exactly why I said that.

Really? What's his name?

Detective Bowman,
nice to meet you.

There you go.

Gentlemen.

Howard Trotter
was murdered, okay?

For the past few weeks,
he's had an impending sense

of doom, like Death was
following him, and then,

somebody broke into
his apartment.

Oh, maybe it was Death.

I mean, if it was
following him and everything.

This was an intuitive man.

He was also 350 pounds

and prone to a stroke.

Roger, I get that you're
too busy to return my calls,

or my e-mails,

or my invitation

to the opening midnight
screening of Wonder Woman.

- How was it?
- It was delightful.

This was my best friend.

And if there's
even a chance

that he was
murdered...

We'll look into it.

Thank you.

Why? Wait... why?

- Yes.
- Well, the guy bet on the races,

but he wasn't watching
when he fell.

He was looking

the other direction.

Maybe he was
checking for the john.

Oh, Rog, we've had
worse leads than this.

Besides, he misses you.

I don't miss him.

Hey.

Here's what I want.

I want a forensic unit on this,

I want major crimes,
and I want a SWAT team.

All right, you're gonna get
a wannabe screenwriter

who moonlights as an M.E.

I will take it.

Will lunch be provided?

I've rarely seen a body
this unhealthy.

His liver

was beyond failing,
he had early and late

onset diabetes, his
cholesterol was...

...unheard of.

Sorry, Leo.

Well. You want some jerky?

It makes everything better.

The man
truly should have died

several natural deaths by now.

Wait, wait. "Should have"?

Get the lights, please?

I noticed an irregularity
in his tox screen.

What kind of irregularity?

Poison. Specifically, warfarin.

In concentrated doses,

it can trigger an
intraparenchymal hemorrhage,

AKA a stroke.

From what I can tell,

he was injected here,

in his neck.

Gentlemen, Howard Trotter
was murdered.

You see what Howard did there?

Huh?

He got the band back together.

After that opening,
you can expect all the...

A great man
has been taken from us.

Grounded before the finish line.

At the tender age of 29.

You know what, I, uh...

I talked to Howard recently,
and he said that, um...

that he was gonna finally try
to drop that last 200 pounds,

and, um, give up
porno, you know?

Really have a
second act.

- Skip the fries, everybody.
- A memorial at a bar.

I know.

It's genius.

I look around, and I see
the faces of the people

that Howard drank with,

that he owed money to,

and I know that
he will be missed.

Not in the buffet line!

I'll tell you, Rog.

You really need
to be taking notes.

This is how I want to go out.

- Yeah, of course you do.
- Mm-hmm.

And speaking of which,
I'm revising my will,

and I'm putting you in it.

There's probably
a lot you didn't know

about, uh, my friend.

No, thanks.

What do you mean?
This is an honor.

I'm-I'm actually
leaving you something.

Yeah, but I just don't want it.

You know, I don't... I don't
even have anywhere to put it.

Right? The trailer's gone, so...

you know.

Wait, is it booze?

No... no, it's not booze.

Yeah, I don't want it.

And in closing,
let us all raise a glass.

- To Howard.
- Drinks are on the house?

Not on the house, Leo.

50% off?

Half... thir... twen... Hmm?

Let's... everybody,
let's, uh, raise some,

uh, somewhat, uh,
complimentary nuts.

And, uh, think about Howard.

Ugh!

Hey, bartender, these
beer nuts are wet.

Oh, it happened again.

More nuts.

I wasn't gonna do it.

I wasn't gonna do it.

Hey, you know what? Leo.

Next time,
when your friend dies,

just take us directly
to the apartment.

I did. Howard lived upstairs.

- What's wrong with him?
- Oh, moist nuts.

What is that smell?

Trout.

- Trout?
- Mm-hmm.

Well, you weren't kidding.

Whoever robbed the place
trashed it.

No.

It pretty much always
looked like this.

Was anything stolen?

How would you even know?

Yes, there was something stolen.

Howard's lucky baseball bat.

Allegedly signed
by Sandy Koufax.

I got that for him
as part of a settlement.

Imagine that, Riggs.

A meaningful gesture from
one friend to another,

giving something of
emotional importance.

Is that what this is about?

Who says no to being in a will?

I don't know.
Maybe someone who says,

"I have enough crap of my own,
I don't want your crap."

Gentlemen!

No fighting in the abode
of the deceased.

I... seriously, I don't know
what you want from me.

Have I not been clear?
Respect, Riggs, respect.

God help me.
Do you know what?

You're like talking
to a crazy person.

Do you know that? Like
an actual crazy person.

Ask me again if you want me
to be in your will.

- Do you want to be in my will?
- Respectfully,

no, no, no.

I only asked as a courtesy.

- A courtesy.
- Oh, God!

You know what, you're like talking
to a crazy person. You know that?

I hope... I hope you...

I hope you know
a good lawyer.

I hope he knows a good lawyer.

I watched the life go out
of his eyes.

I stood there,

covered in

the fluid and
viscera of his life.

He took a shower, right?

Because we just had
those chairs recovered.

I think
he's speaking metaphorically.

Human viscera doesn't wash off.

Again, metaphoric.

Okay, where I'm unclear is why
you two were in the hallway...

Uh, actually,
that's on me, because

I asked them
to take their argument outside.

Argument?

Riggs keeps refusing
to be in my will.

It's infuriating.

You're putting Riggs
in your will?

Yes, w...

Okay. Is there something
you'd like me to leave you?

- I love your bedroom set.
- Gentlemen,

I killed a man
I don't know anything about.

I mean, what were his hopes,

his dreams? Did he
aspire to greatness?

Might he have
cured cancer?

His name was Alex Olea.

Ticket stub found in his pocket
places him at the track

when Howard was killed.

That bastard.
Well, I'm glad he's dead.

Well, he may not solely be
responsible for it.

Olea was
an enforcer

for a loan shark named Guzman.

- Tony Guzman?
- You know him?

I did some of my best work
for him.

And then he refused to pay
my final bill.

So Howard was a gambler.
Is it possible

- he owed Guzman some money?
- It's possible.

If Howard did, though,
I wish he would've come to me.

I would've given him
a much better rate.

Guzman has a tattoo shop
on Sunset.

Well, let's go.

No chance. You're
staying here. All right?

Remember what happened
the last time.

When he says, uh, "last time,"

he means, um...

I killed a man.

- I heard.
- You know,

they say, in, um, the
final moments of life,

a dying man evacuates
his bowels...

You sure you don't want
to take him with you?

So, they impounded
your trailer.

That has to be unsettling.

Riggs?

Does this couch pull out?

I-I mean,
it doesn't really matter.

I kind of...
I still think it'll work.

Move to my couch,
that-that's the plan?

Well...

I mean,
everything I need is here.

Right? You know?
I mean, I can...

I can eat in the break room,
get my sheets from the morgue.

You know.

When do you come in?
'Cause sometimes

I like to sleep in the nude.

What about the Murtaughs'?

Yeah, the Murtaughs
like to have conversations

first thing in the
morning... uh, you know,

act like they're
all awake and...

it's just really not my scene.

So, rent a place of your own.

Nah, nothing beats the trailer.

Trailer you no longer have.

Well, uh...

Riggs, why do you think you're
avoiding this problem?

Um, is it a problem

or have I just solved
my commute issue?

You brought up your dad
last week.

Right.

So I dug into your files.

What files are those?

You moved around
quite a bit as a kid.

First you and your dad.

And then by yourself,
different foster homes.

Wow. Wow, you went way back.

Those are,
those are out-of-state files.

Is that part of your job now?
To kind of...

- research...
- My job

is to help you do yours.

And after today,

you have nowhere to go.

For someone with
an unstable childhood home,

- that can be...
- You want to talk about my childhood?

Let's talk about

my childhood, um...

I lost my mom.

When I was a little kid.

Um, you know, and...
my dad did the best he could.

I mean, it was just him
and a 12-year-old.

You know, nobody to take
care of either of us, really.

But he figured it out.

You know, gave me a childhood.

And I believe I...

I believe I'm the man I am today
because of him.

Hell's this?

Where we gonna sleep?

Where we gonna sleep?

In our home.

Look at that, home run.

Let's go.

Martin.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Uh, Rog is, uh, up
in the precinct.

No, I'm actually here
to see you.

I was just across the street
at Public Works

looking into your
trailer situation.

Oh, great. When are
they gonna return it?

Yeah, they're not.

Is this really
the first one you saw?

They said they sent you ten.

You know, I don't really, uh,
check the mail, so...

And there was a tow truck
driver you threatened?

That's ridiculous.

There was this guy that
I thought was breaking in...

Whatever. When are they gonna
give my trailer back?

I don't know that you do.

The fines you racked up

are gonna cost more
than the trailer is worth.

You can't go back to living
where you were living.

Maybe it's time to start
looking for another place.

Oh, great. All right,
awesome, thank you.

No, hang on.

Maybe Roger and I
can help you plan.

Look, I don't want
your help, Trish. Um...

I was just trying to...

I know, and, uh,
I-I appreciate it.

But it's my mess, so
I-I'll take care of it.

She was in your business

because you
asked her to be

- in your business.
- Hmm. Did I?

Yeah, when you walked into our
house barefoot and homeless.

That was a clear
cry for help.

So, in that spirit,
cry heard,

you can stay
at our house.

No, thanks.

I'm telling you,
we have the space.

I know,
I just don't want to.

Then where you
gonna sleep, Riggs?

It's California, Rog.

- I'll sleep outside.
- Outside?

Okay, fine, you know what?
Offer rescinded.

You cannot stay
at our house.

Perfect.

Then we're on
the same page.

Yeah, good.

Officers.

Sorry, we're, uh,
we're closing up.

Really?

'Cause, uh...

ah, he's still got, like,
a half a eye to go.

You're crowding me.

We are looking for

a, uh, Tony Guzman.

He's a triple threat.

Loan shark, extortionist...

What was the third thing?

Cobbler.

- Not a cobbler.
- Mime?

- Dancer.
- I don't know if it was an alchemist or...

Either way. Ooh.

Look at this, Rog.

A baseball bat...

signed by Sandy Koufax.

Say what? We
were just talking to a guy

who had the exact same bat.

You know, what are the odds

that you had

the previous owner
of this bat

murdered?

Howard Trotter?

You play the horses?

Trotter owed me money.

The bat was collateral.

I didn't kill him.

We didn't say you killed him.

No, no, no, no. No, no. Not you.

We're just saying that
you had your friend,

Axel, do it for you.

Arms dealer!

That was it. It's extortionist,
loan shark, arms dealer.

- I knew it was something.
- Gun!

Hey! Hey, Riggs!

Oh.

Looks like a home run.

All right.

The illegal sale of firearms,
assault on a police officer.

The unsolicited tattooing
of a police officer.

I was gonna let
that one slide,

'cause that is a
pretty slick tattoo.

- Looks like a churro.
- Well, it looks

like a squiggly line,
but if you put some wings

on it or something, it
could really look rad.

Uh, and murder
for Howard Trotter.

I didn't kill him.

Trotter owed me money.
Why would I have him killed?

Well, off the top of my head,
to make an example out of him.

That was a really good answer.

- Yeah, right? Off the top of the head.
- Quick.

- Off the top of the head. Yeah.
- See how quick that was?

To make an example, your break
a leg, you take a finger.

Dead guys can't pay.

Besides, Howard had just come
into a windfall.

Howard wasn't
a winner, so...

What windfall?

I have no idea,
but that's what he told me

the day before he died.

A windfall?

- A windfall.
- There was no windfall.

He said he had a windfall.

He owed the guy money and
didn't want to lose his fingers,

so he said windfall.

Do you guys still like Guzman
for this?

He was at the track, he sent
the thug to Howard's house,

he probably had
access to needles

and rat poison.

Ooh, did you tell him
about your tattoo?

You got a tattoo?

A little Buddha?

No, squiggly line.

Oh, we should get matching ones.

I'm going home.

What about the windfall?

- There was no windfall!
- Okay.

No one believes
there was a windfall, Leo.

And they're probably right,
but...

what if they're not? Hmm?

You just said they're
probably right.

Here's what I'm saying:

we go to Howard's place,
and you look around

for signs of anything
"windfall-y," okay?

What if we find something
that blows this case wide open?

Huh? Do you guys want
to be the B-team forever?

I thought that was
about our names.

It is.

And I'll buy you dinner.

Junior?! Junior?!

Get back here!

Junior!

Get your ass back here!

Junior!

Where are you?

Get your ass back
in here, boy.

Running like a little rabbit.

Where are you?

You can't stay out here forever!

You hear me, boy?

You know what's good for ya,
better hope I don't find ya.

You little rabbit.

Junior!

You little rabbit!

Junior!

Okay, I vote we call it.

Still over two feet
of sub sandwich left

if anybody wants some.

- Leo, your friend, he is...
- Eclectic.

A hoarder.

A hoarder with
a sweet music library.

Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden,

Yngwie Malmsteen, Metallica.

Yngwie Malmsteen?

No way.
Howard was definitely not a fan.

Not only that, he, in fact,
very specifically,

was mad at Yngwie

because he lost some money on
a horse that was named Yngwie

Malmsteed.

Well, he's got
over a dozen

of the guy's albums.

Super fan.

That's not right.

That's not the Howard I know.

What the hell is this?

Jockey Club, June 6.

Here. Play it.

Yeah, the three horse

looks like a mudder, but my guy
says it's locked.

Bet the Exacta,
you go home rich.

Holy Ruth Bader Ginsburg,
you know what this is?

Private conversations
at the Jockey Club.

Whatever Howard heard
probably got him killed.

It's his nerve,

his willingness to offend.

I repeatedly asked him
to stay here,

even though that's
not what I wanted.

I mean, what I wanted...

What?

It's confusing.

You wanted to fix him.

Is that wrong?

No, but...

maybe there are some people
you-you can't fix.

I don't want
to believe that,

because what if
I'm the one that's broke

and he is the pain
that I can't move past?

- Maybe I did fix him.
- Mm.

I'll see you upstairs.

Yngwie.

What?

We broke the case.

It's almost 11:00.

That's right
and it is time to...

celebrate.

'Cause my knowledge
of Howard

led us right to it.

To what?

The windfall.

I could kiss you right
on that head. Bring it in.

Oh!

I'm gonna crash here,
after all, Rog.

You know
I handle DUI, right?

- Look, Trish, I owe you...
- No, no, no, no, no.

No. I'm speaking.

Martin,

just because we let you
into our home does...

You are making
it very hard.

To be continued.

Bet the Exacta,
you go home rich.

Jockey Club at
the racetrack?

Okay, so you think this
recording got him killed.

Howard heard something
he wasn't supposed to.

Howard logged everything
he recorded in this notebook,

but we checked
against the CDs.

There's one hour missing.

2:00 p.m. to 3:00 p.m.
a month ago, today.

Beautiful. So, head down
to the racetrack,

pull the security video and...
you've already done that.

Here we go.

Howard's so-called friends.

All of them were
at the memorial.

- What do we know about them?
- Well... oh, perfect timing.

The B-Team.

You know with the office
supplies in this room alone,

I could kill you
nine different ways.

Mitch Brennan.

Served time for kidnapping
and extortion.

Joey McConnel,
skated on a weapons beef.

Hoak Zeeland,
federal explosives charges,

and Shane Plyskin,
just out of Lompoc

for attempted murder.

What do they all
have in common?

Hmm?

They all hate
the Jockey Club.

And yet, they were all
at the Jockey Club. Ironic.

That's not what
ironic means.

Yeah.

Okay, I'm gonna go back
to this godforsaken bar,

find out what
they were talking about.

Maybe keep Bailey away from Leo.

He's a bleeder.

Hey, Rog.

The answer is no,
you can't come, Leo.

I wasn't going to.

Look, Riggs...
he's in pain.

You don't do
what he did...

Park his house on yours?

...unless you're in pain.

Okay? He's in pain.

Don't be so mad at him
that you can't see that.

Friendship is fleeting.

You know what I would give

for one more day with Howard?

Excuse me, Mr. Getz?

This came for you.
Howard Trotter's remains,

or cremains, actually.

Not sure why they came
to the morgue.

No, no, I-I requested that.

That way they waive
the delivery fee, so...

Classy to the end, Leo.

So, what are you
gonna do with him?

Oh, Howard left
instructions.

Friends and family day here

at beautiful Santa Anita Park.

- Hi.
- Hi.

Uh, table for one, please.

Maybe something with a
view of the finish line.

Right this way.

Final round.

How'd you sleep?

Good.

And how's my lawn?

That's a work in progress.

That's unusual on race day.

Mm-hmm.

What in God's name
are you doing?

That better not be
what I think it is.

So, this is your idea
of proactive policing?

Yeah, the window
was broken.

We were concerned about
the establishment.

Huh. Well, wish all cops
could be as thoughtful as us.

What?

I just touched some gum
or human tissue or something.

Got to wash my hands.

What, are you serious?

Yes.

It's out of order.

Hey, Riggs.

You need to see this.

Bingo.

Not just any ashes,

this was Mr. Howard Trotter,
okay?

Security, over here.

This man needs
to be removed.

- Okay.
- I'll take him.

I'll see you in court. See
you in court with my bruises.

Shane.

Say one more word and you'll
join your friend Howard.

And so we come to
the penultimate race of the day.

Odds on favorite,
Pogo Painter in yellow.

Sir Red in blue and
Running Mare in fuchsia pink

at seven to one.

It is estimated
over $5 million

is weighted on this race,

including two million cash
right here in Santa Anita Park.

Here come the last horses,

Chubby Rose and Mustangus
entering their gates.

And they're off.

Get back! Get back!

Beautiful day for a race, folks.

Everyone,
get on the floor now.

Bad guys and
semiautomatics.

Perfect timing as usual.

Speak for yourself. My
will isn't done yet.

45 seconds.

35 seconds.

Don't be a hero.

Get your face
on the floor.

We got 20 seconds left.
Go, go, go!

What the hell are you
shooting at down there?!

Just a couple
Girl Scouts!

All right, all right! New deal.

That wasn't too
sportsmanlike, now was it?

Come on, let's go.

Go out the front now!

Come on, let's go,
let's go, let's go!

LAPD.

Thanks, buddy.

Let's go!

Move!

- You okay?
- Yeah.

Hey!

Leo!

Rog, you go with him.
I'm going this way.

How much, huh?

Shut up and move, okay?

Howard was recording
conversations at the Jockey Club

and he heard about your robbery

and he asked you to pay him
to keep it quiet.

So, how much?

Tell me.

Ten grand.

You killed him.

He was not worth
ten grand, huh?

You're worth a lot less.

Hold it.

Drop the gun or I
shoot your friend.

He's an acquaintance.

Only worked with him twice.

We almost went to a movie,
don't forget.

We don't have to do this!

Oh, great.
I accept your surrender.

I got a million in each bag.

We could both walk
out of here rich men.

Yeah. You know, I've just
never been good with handouts.

You know?
Just ask anybody, really.

My partner, especially.
He'll tell you.

Gun on the ground now.

Okay. I'm lowering it.

No, no, no, no. P-Please,
don't put the gun down.

Don't think about me.
Think about Howard.

- And it's time to let him go.
- Please don't put the gun down.

He will shoot you. He will
shoot you. He will shoot you.

Let Howard go.

Are you okay?

I got Howard in my mouth

and I don't know what part.

I got him all over.

Don't
drive for a little bit.

I also want to thank
some of the little people.

The Robbery-Homicide
Custodial Team,

who returned my suit to me,

both starched and blood-free.

And as we all know, you got to
look like money to make money

and it can't be money that's
covered in, uh, viscera.

How long has he
been doing this?

Feels like a week.

And, lest we forget,

let's give a giant whoop-whoop
to two scrappy underdogs

that I think nobody

thought they had it
in them at all.

I was more surprised
than anyone.

Great work from the B-Team.

I think that just
became a thing.

You're the worst.

And my penultimate thought...

I would like to honor
the life of a friend

by thanking another,

a man that was willing
to lay down his life for me.

Detective Roger
Mayfield Murtaugh!

Okay, all right, Leo,
it's not the Oscars.

Everybody, go back to work.

There was a little...
I was oh, so close to done.

One more thing. There
he is, that's right.

Detective Roger
Mayfield Murtaugh,

as selfless as he is humble,

but when you put
down that gun...

Leo, it's called
following protocol

and I would've
done it for anyone.

Okay.

You know and I know.

and that's what's important.

"Pain and suffering"?

You're suing the city,
Detective?

N-No, I am not.

Yes, you are because he was
injured in the line of duty

by that tattoo needle,
which has left him

irrevocably with
an errant squiggle.

I did not file a lawsuit.

I did it pro bono.

And we are going to
get you restitution

for emotional distress
and punitive damages.

This is not happening.

Mm-hmm, it is happening.

And guess what?
You and me are gonna spend

a lot of time together.

We're gonna be, uh, uh,
having strategy sessions

and late nights
of Chinese food.

- You and me, and we're gonna be Skyping each other.
- Okay.

- Leo.
- Mm-hmm?

- I see what's happening here...
- Mm-hmm.

...and we do not need
to have a lawsuit

to hang out.

What does that mean?

No. This is about justice.

Look, Trish and I are going
to the movies on Saturday night.

I would love to come.

Drop the lawsuit.

- I'll see you Saturday.
- Yeah.

You wanted to see me?

I heard you found a place
to sleep last night.

So they tell me.

Well, I got you something.

Uh, toothbrush,
pillow, blankets,

for the next time
you're stuck.

Oh, I appreciate that,
Doc, but I'm...

Proficient at getting by
on your own?

Thing is, you're not.

What, not getting by?

You're not on your own.

- Oh.
- I hate to break this to you, Riggs,

but despite your best efforts,
people care about you.

I know, I know.
It sucks for you.

Cold drink?

I better not.

I think that's what...

got me in trouble
in the first place.

Doubt that.

I think it started
long before that.

I didn't have this, growing up.

You know, a real home.

Closest I ever came
was with Miranda, you know.

So...

when they took my trailer,
I, um...

...I guess it dug up some stuff.

I understand that, Martin.

But a home isn't a shell
you climb into.

It's the people
who are there for you,

that leave the door open
even when you're at your worst.

Finish up.

We are having

chicken cacciatore tonight
for dinner.

- Hey, Trish.
- Hmm?

Tell Rog I'll be in his will.

Barbeque sauce.

You're bequeathing me
barbeque sauce?

Barbeque marinade.

What's the difference?

There is no difference.

You would stipulate to being

the barbeque executor

until RJ is
emotionally ready.

Do you accept?

- Yes.
- Yes.

Okay.
So, the will is done.

Thank you, God.

Hmm.

Did you always use
this much paprika?

Yes. Two teaspoons.

Have you thought
about oregano?

What?

No, oregano, honey.

That might give it

the-the kick that it needs.

Little-little bit
of a kick.

- Yeah.
- No, it needs no pop, no kick.

The sauce is the sauce.

I thought you
said it was a...

marinade.

All right.

I'm going to bed.

Oh, and, uh, Rog?

As the executor,

think about that oregano.

Oh.
You better not.

Changing the will.

Oh, Roger.