All language subtitles for cjsdhvjsdvjsdv

What's missing
from this picture?

We'll start with extraction, which is
a fancy word for trashing the planet.

What this looks like looks like is we chop
down the trees, we blow up the mountains

to get the metals inside and use up all
the water, and we wipe out the animals.

We are running out of resources.

Now, I know this can be hard
to hear, but it's the truth.

So we've got to deal with it.

In the past three decades alone,

one third of the planet's natural
resource space has been consumed.

Gone.

We are cutting and lining and hauling and
trashing the place so fast that we're

undermining the planet's variability
for people to live here.

We have 5% of the world's population, but
we're using 30% of the world's resources.

If everybody consumed at U.S. rates,
we would need three to five planets.

And you know what?

We've only got one.

You live in that?

Seriously?

Does your chicken have a name?

Chicken.
- Chicken?

Chicken.

Where's all your stuff?

I divested.
Cut myself down to 100 things.

What do you mean
100 things?

Shirt's one thing, bowls one thing
fork, sleeping bag.

Chicken.
- And you kept that hat?

Tell me you at least have a gun.

Jesus, Waldo.

When's the last time you
had anybody up here?

Three years.

You got any friends?

Chicken.

Wow.

What the fuck is that?

I bought the land from a sculptor.

Sure, because this
spoke to you, right?

Remember that time we were
supposedly "broken up"?

I ran into you outside the art museum
on Wilshire. I was on a date.

I ditched the guy.

We went straight to your truck
in the parking structure.

It was right next to the
La Brea Tar Pits... by the mammoths.

Okay.

First of all, this
isn't a mammoth.

It's an elephant.

Second of all, you're
saying I bought this

property because I had a subconscious
sexual memory prompted by this sculpture.

Which you brought me straight to, the
minute I came to visit you.

Uninvited.

Look, I'm here on business.

Alastair Pinch, the actor...

- Killed his wife.
Maybe he killed her, maybe he didn't.

I don't think he even knows
the guy's a blackout drunk.

The network's got a
lot riding on him.

So they're paying
for his lawyer.

So he did kill her.

It means the money serious.

They're looking to hire a P.I.

This gig could jump
me to the majors.

If I could deliver the famous
Charlie Waldo to work it with me.

Come on.

You know those Hollywood types.

They always want to
put a big name in it.

I'm retired.

I see that... from the force.

I'd be willing to
go 80-20 yours.

What would I even
do with the money?

Buy a nicer 100 things.

Because then my life
would be complete?

Exactly.

Pass.

Lydell was a long time ago.

- Lorena...
You don't have to keep punishing yourself.

You don't have to live like that.
- You don't have to live like that.

Fuck. You expect
me to apologize?

Hey, I grew up poor.

For real poor,
not with solar panels.

Fine.

Come on, let me bring you
back into the real world.

Just for a few weeks.

We'll have some laughs.

I can't.

All right. It was worth a shot.

Can I have a hug at least?

You ghosted me, Waldo.

I ghosted everybody.

I know.

Smell better than you look.

Can't stay up here forever.

No. Why not?

Same reason you and I
kept hooking back up.

Unfinished business is a bitch.

Things are not looking good for
celebrated actor Alastair Pinch.

He's under renewed
scrutiny by the LAPD

regarding the murder of his wife,
Monica Pinch. Two weeks ago.

Investigators say they
are focusing their

inquiries on the actor himself
as the prime suspect.

Jesus, Waldo.

You know you shouldn't do that.

How come?

Lorena Nascimento was out
here a couple of days ago, huh?

Oh, yeah? I'd have to
check my visitors log.

Don't jerk me. She's been
scoping you for the Pinch murder.

Dumb bastard's the least
of her worries.

She tell you anything about Don Q?

Is he a game show host?

A captain of industry.

A recreational
pharmaceutical industry.

The girls on his payroll.

That sounds like bullshit.

No, that's not bullshit.

You check out her ride.

Where do you think she
gets that kind of cheese?

Where does a cop with four kids.
get the cheese for a 'Vette?

Dropped this.

Anyway, she took something
belonged to Don Q.

Not exactly the healthiest
lifestyle choice.

Now, what I think is she came
up here to leave it with you.

Leave what?

And if you're smart,
you will give it to me.

I don't know what it is.
I haven't seen it.

Stop wasting my time, man.

The last thing she did on her
computer was Google map this ass pile.

Last call on her cell
was from Idyllwild.

What do you mean last call?

There a Missing Persons open?

Hell, no.

That'd require
somebody gave a shit.

What?

Oh, Jesus...

This is, Lorena.
You can leave a message but

if you want me to call you back,
you better make it interesting.

Fucking Lorena...

Damn!

Yo, hit him again.

Come on, hit him again dog.
Hit him...

Oh, he gonna fuck your white ass up!

Oh, hit him again, hit him again...

No!
Wait! Wait!

Here we go.
Hit him again.

Whatever the problem is here,
lets see if we can... communicate.

Is that a purse?

It's Bottega motherfucker!

- Shit!

- Talk his mouth...

- Oh shit!
- What the fuck did you hit him with?

- Oh shit.
- Hell yeah!

Oh come on big man...
- Lou Ferrigno...

- Come on sauce... Sex appeal...
- Damn man, that's it.

- Sexy Warrick
- Hello.

- Hold on, you coming? Come on big fella.
- Oh, that's it.

What do you morons want?

Hey!
Hold on. Hold on. Hold on.

Relax big man!

We want you to stay your ass up
on this motherfucking mountain.

And stay away from Alastair Pinch
- That's right.

And if you don't, you'll get more visits
from the Palisades Posse, motherfucker.

Fuck me.

- The fuck is wrong with him?
Help me up.

Come on.

Yo, what do you doin?
- He said he needs to help him up...

What the fuck are you doing?

I hate to break it to you boys.

I've got nothing to do with
Alastair Pinch.

Bull shit.

You work for the network. It's
in the trades. Let me see that...

Boom.

It's upside down, moron.

That's right.

What the fuck?
- Knock him out dog come on...

Just stay your hill billy
ass out of L.A. bitch.

This is Lorena.
You can leave a message but

if you want me to call you back,
you better make it interesting.

The mailbox is full and cannot accept
new messages at this time.

Mr. Waldo.

Wilson Sigorski,
head of the network, hop In.

You know, Fontella Davis,
Alastair Pinch's attorney.

Never had the pleasure. Hold on.

Hang on, hang on.
No... No, I'm not paying him 40.

I'll pay him 25
he should be kissing my balls.

What was the last series
he had?

Two years... he'll be playing
sasquatch on the Discovery Channel.

Hey!

Why did you put in the trades that
I was working for your network?

Mr. Waldo, when you land a star, you
don't hide them under your ass,

you tell the whole fucking world. You were
the youngest ever Captain in the LAPD.

Did we get that right?
- Youngest Detective III.

Yeah, close enough. We want
you to start right away,

even though Lorena Nascimento
seems unavailable.

She's missing. When's the
last time you talked to her?

No. No.

Fuck no. That I can work with.
Then you do your homework.

She's going to be
exactly like her mother.

Do you have kids, Mr. Waldo?
- No.

I'm going to give you my cell phone.
Don't call the office.

My new assistant's a fuckwit.

But call me day or night, though.
I got to get this tied up.

You may or may not
be aware I'm facing a takeover.

And I want you on NCN with
me tonight.

I assume you know how
to find a barber shop.

Hey, guys! Thing is...

I never told Lorena I'd do this.
Sorry.

So I tell you, my nuts are in a vice,
you give them an extra turn.

If you want more money
just have your reps call me.

Shows worth twice now what
it used to be.

This murder thing's done
wonders for the ratings.

I could probably get 6 mil and up,

but, you know, I got to have 100
episodes and only got 57.

So I need two more years of...
-Watch the cable!-

...Alastair Pinch, healthy,
happy and off of death row.

I can't take this.

I only own 100 things.

If I take that, it's going
to be 101, you know?

Not really.

Well it's complicated.

Let's go with one
of the other P.I.'s.

I know we said we needed to
create distraction, but this?

Come on.
- I'm fond of your work, too.

A real P.I., one that knows
how to do the job.

Not just some has been...

All right, look!
- Hey, hey, hey...

I'm only here to tell you to put out a
press release

that says I'm not involved.
All right?

That I turned it down.
Can you do that?

This is the hottest gig in town.

Everybody's chasing it.
Here's what I'll do.

I'll introduce you to Alastair.

I'll pay you for the day, whether
you take the case or not.

Excuse me.
Hey, I'm...

What was Lorena going to charge?

1000 a day plus expenses.
- 2000, and not to me.

A donation to the Sierra Club
and memory of Lydell Lipps.

Deal. It's a shame your kids
are going to miss this.

You're about to meet a
motherfucking legend.

So Stevie and I
were at my estate.

I was drinking absinthe and
several snifters in

I decided that this
would be the perfect

night to teach Stevie Wonder...
how to drive.

and that it might be most entertaining

to let him motor about the lawn with me
outside the car trying to dodge it.

- Excuse me. Ready to shoot Mr. Pinch?
Oh, thank you, Cheryl.

Anyway, I thought I'd give
Stevie a sporting chance.

So there I was, trousers
around my ankles.

Stevie gave it some stick and I spent the
next fortnight pissing Claret in Ward C.

Where's my mustache fluffer?
- Last Looks!

Let me know when we're set.

Grazie babies.

Sustained. So...strained. So...stained.

Is he shit faced?
- Oh, come on!

It is such a privilege to
get to watch this man work.

He's got a shitload of
Shakespeare Awards under his bed.

Greatest fucking
actor since Brando.

I get him Wednesday nights
after Jessica Beal...

Background...

and...
action!

Let me tell you a story from when
I was just a tike in Tuscaloosa.

My granddaddy, Raymond Forbushaw,
he was a jurist himself...family court.

He used to set me on
his knee and say "Johnny,"

"for 99 days the Judge's job is merely to be
that blindfold on the statue of Lady Justice."

"For 99 days you do that."

"And justice in its natural
wisdom will find its own way."

"But Johnny," he'd say...

"On the 100th day, a great judge
knows that he needs to be justice."

Now I wouldn't be so bold
as to call myself a great judge but...

I do know that as I sit here today,
I'm thinking about my granddaddy.

And that's why I'm going
to direct this verdict,

and find this here defendent...
guilty.

Cut!

Wow, sir.
That was terrific.

Terrific?
It was bloody genius.

You're not going
to top that one.

I'll see you all tomorrow, then.

Did you hear what I just said?

He's supposed to say not guilty.

He said guilty.
- Fuck!

Could of just told me
I had ass cancer.

Sorry.
- Alastair!

- Yes?
Oh god...

Uh, I hate to do this to you, but we're
going to have to do one more.

The last line is not guilty.
- Not guilty.

What did I say?
- Guilty.

The fuck I did.
- Yeah...

He didn't say that... did...
I mean...

But really, just, please...

No, I know what I said, love.

So let's just look
at the playback.

He wouldn't have said that.

Can we just see the playback, please?
- You!

What are you smirking at?

What? I didn't say nothing.

Do you think it's easy to carry
this piece of shit on my shoulders

week after week?

You think I need a twat like you
standing there looking like a crocodile?

How long have you worked on this show?

It's my first week.

Your first week?
It's his first week, everyone.

A bloody week!

God!

That's why I'm going to
direct this verdict.

Let that be a lesson to you.

You good?

I'm fine. Let's do this.
Come on.

Let's do it.
Let's roll!

Rolling!

Does that happen often?

Sometimes after lunch.

We always put a stunt guy
right there. Pay him extra.

Don't tell Alastair.

Ready. Action!

...and find this here
Defendant, not guilty.

Cut!

Cheers.

Wouldn't be the first
time I've had the clap.

Entre.

Not guilty.

The Lord is the manner down to
slum a bit with the vassals.

To what do we owe the honor?

I wanted to introduce
you to Charlie Waldo.

The Detective we told you about.
Used to be King Shit at the LAPD.

Ah...the fallen angel.
You've landed him.

Did I promise you I would.

I'd give you the shirt off
my back, you know that?

I'd prefer the watch off your wrist.
Have you seen what this man wears?

Costs more than the
house I grew up in.

Kudoke Skeleton. They
only make 35 a year.

Maybe I'll make you a wrap gift of one,
how's that?

Well, can we have that signed in blood?
- Signed in blood he says!

I'm done for the day. Detective,
do you have plans? Where do you live?

Idyllwild. I'm only
here for today.

The details we're still working out.
- I haven't agreed to take this case.

I'll find a hotel for tonight.
- Nonsense.

- You'll stay at my house.
Great idea.

Right to the scene of the crime.

You don't mind sleeping surrounded
by yellow tape, do you?

This fucking guy.
Come on, Waldo.

What do you say? What's the
worst that can happen?

Lorena turns up in a day or two.

You can go back to
wherever you came from.

Hell, maybe you can get
your reputation back.

Just kidding.

Interest you in a wee
snifter Detective?

No, thank you.

I deplore drinking alone.

So I'll have a double.

She was so proud of this room.

Chinchin. This was in Townen Wanker
magazine, you know.

Why don't you walk me
through that morning?

All right.

One more time.

It was a Saturday.

I woke up, or came to, in my study
about a half a mile down that way.

I realized I had no
recollection of the previous night.

I came in here, found
my sweet Monica.

I ran back to the kitchen,
dialed 911.

There was a shattered vase.

Uh... Anyhow,
when the ambulance arrived,

they told me she was already gone
and had been for quite some time.

Does anyone else have keys?

Only Rosario.

That's our nanny.

And she was in Venezuela
visiting her family.

Nanny.

Little kids in the house?

Yes, we have one child, Gaby.

She likely wasn't
the killer either.

But she'll be home from
kindergarten soon enough.

If you think it's worth
trying to wrest a confession.

Pretty glib, considering.

Forgive me. Dear, Gaby
doesn't even know, of course.

The world is certain
I murdered my wife, Mr. Waldo

and I can't even tell
you the world is wrong.

If you know a man who's
handled a similar predicament

with more élan, point me
to him and I shall gladly emulate.

You ever thought about
trying to stop drinking?

All the time.

But this doesn't seem the
week for that, now does it?

- Daddy!
- Princess!

Where did you come from?

Want to hear the song little
dog taught us at school today?

A little dog?
Why, yes, of course.

Brush every morning.

Brush every night. I brush and I
brush so my teeth will be white.

Teeth can be shiny.

Teeth can be gold.

I hope I still have
some when I'm very old.

- You know it!
I do know it. Gaby,

I'd like to meet my new friend,
Mr. Waldo.

He looks scary like a lion.
- Yeah, but he's a friendly lion.

Gaby and I are going to spend some daddy
time with each other.

Are you smuggling baby fat,
are you? Oh...

Oh, uh, you haven't decided to
take the case yet, have you?

What say you, Detective?

Will you return to your mountain
and leave me to the fates?

Or will you stick around the shitty of the
Angels long enough to see the police,

maybe get it right this time.
Whatever right may look like.

Daddy, can Mr. Lion drive
to school with us tomorrow?

Can he please?
Please?

Will this be alright?

It's perfect.

Fucking Lorena.

Guilty.

And turn down the volume
on the Media Circus.

Oh, come on, Fontella.

You live for the Media Circus.

Now I'm hearing there could be an
indictment as early as tomorrow.

We've not been told that.

And now L.A. Times is reporting that
sources on the LAPD state there are no

unidentified fingerprints anywhere in
that room. What does that suggest to you?

It suggests that the real
killer knew what he was doing.

You promised us Charlie Waldo

from the Lydell Lipps case. What does it say
that he's not here with you?

Charlie Waldo is
busy uncovering...

Welcome to kindergartens of
the rich and famous.

Gaby, Mr. Lion needs
to talk to your teacher.

But first, he's going to park this beast.

Now get out, little blighter

Baby back ribs in there!

Come here you speedy little runt!

Alas, poor Yorick.

I knew him, my sweet Gaby.

A fellow of infinite jest
and most excellent fancy.

He hath borne me
on his back a thousand times.

And now how abhorred in my imagination
it is! My gorge rises at it.

You're a shadow of
your former self.

It's that keto diet I'm on. I'm starving
I think may have taken too far.

You got anything in your lunch?
Like a porkchop? Ham Sandwich? No?

I'm afraid it wouldn't do you any good.
Dear boy, I think you're dead.

Dead! That's tragic.
Yes, indeed. It's tragic.

Wherever your jibes
now your gambles,

your songs, your flashes of merriment that
were want to set the table on a roar.

I got soil in my britches!

So they changed my nappy.
Now it's all squishy.

- Bravo! That was funny daddy!
Uh, yes, thank you, thank you.

Yes, that speech
always slays them.

Come, uh, let's play on the swings. I believe
Mr. Lion wants to ask Miss White whether

Daddy plays nicely
with the other children.

My name is Waldo.

I'm a Detective working for Alastair.
- Jayne.

My heart breaks for Gaby.

Mr. Pinch is doing a lot to
keep her spirits up.

And Mrs. Pinch, what was
she like as a parent?

Mrs. Pinch?

We have the children
memorize these poems.

I like to ask the kids whose mom and
dad can recite them to them.

Half the time these parents can't but

the nanny can
in two languages.

What about the Pinches?

Mrs. Pinch never knew them.

Mr. Pinch?

Always.

That's unusual.

Her death must have shock the
hell out of this place, huh?

Not me.

Good morning, kids.

Okay, everyone find their place.
Get your bunnies. We're going to

start by writing our names on the back of
them. So everyone have a marker.

Miss White, I'm going to need
to talk to you again.

Sure.

Does everyone have their Bunny from yesterday?
- Yes, Miss White.

Come meet me tonight.

We can talk then.

All right. Have you got your name set?
- Yes, Miss White.

Do you put your boots
on your chairs at home?

I live in a trailer
with a chicken.

What happened to this vase?

"Vahz".

Ah, yes. Well...

That's the one she
was killed with.

What was that... ceramic?
- Ovenware.

Nice vase, I rather miss it.

What about that table?

It's different.

Monica was a tinkerer.

No room was ever finished
to her satisfaction.

And that sculpture?

The blood?

The sculpture. This.
- Right.

Ah, dear boy, that's a Regis
Award for my Richard III.

Did you move it.

I've never been much
for acting trophies.

Monica had that one on display
for sentimental reasons.

That was the production
on which we met. Really?

Perhaps it's wherever Monica put
my other Regis's or my...

People's Choice Award.

Oh, good night, sweet Prince.

Flights of Angels
sing me to thy bless.

There goes the good girl
kindergarten teacher.

Just wait until I have a
few Makers in me.

So why weren't you shocked when
Monica Pinch was killed?

Okay.
Mr. Waldo, I have a confession.

Okay.

I've been watching all this
TV coverage since the murder.

I know exactly who you were the
minute you walked into my classroom.

I figured.

Who was Lydell Lipps?

Everyone keeps talking
about Lydell Lipps.

I can usually tell when
someone's messing with me.

You're jamming up my radar.

Maybe your radar is just rusty.

Yeah, maybe.

Here you go.

To whiskey and good hair.

It's been a while.

Okay, if you want to
know, I'll tell you.

Eleven years ago,
there was a robbery, 711.

The girl behind the counter
and two customers got shot dead.

I turned up,
a kid named Donny Lipps,

leaned on him pretty hard.

It paid off. He said he was
waiting in the car outside.

And in return for a deal he
would give me the shooter.

Turns out that was like, uh, his brother.

Signed, sealed...

My career was off to the races,
right,

and I am on
fire with ambition.

Everything's going great.

Cut to years later, Lydell
comes up for parole,

and the prosecutors asked me to
help them prep for the hearing.

So I go see the brother again.

Who's in prison himself at
this point, 3 strikes unrelated.

Only now he tells me that the
original story was bullshit.

He made it up. To get
me off his back.

So, what, at that point Lydell had
been in jail for...

Seven years, three months
and sixteen days.

Next thing I learned,

it is a lot harder to get an innocent man
out of jail than to put a guilty man in.

The system isn't designed
to deal with mistakes.

And some individuals aren't either.

I keep pushing and I keep
pushing and I keep pushing.

And I'm doing everything I can.

And this goes on for a year.

And then Lydell got stabbed.

In a yard fight, and he bled to death after
spending every day of his adult life

locked up for something
that he didn't fucking do.

And that I...

built a career on.

And when I ran out of
people who would listen,

which took about six months...

Um...

I quit and I started talking
to anyone with a microphone.

I guess that would have
burned a lot of bridges.

Oh, I burned the fucking river.

You still haven't told me.

What?

Why weren't you shocked
about Monica Pinch?

Well, of course I was shocked.

And how could I not be shocked?

I don't follow.

Waldo...

Can't you tell when a girl just wants
to have a drink with you?

I said a drink.

Three years in the woods.

You haven't been with
anybody all that time?

No.

That's kind of hot, Waldo.

Alastair! They're going to arrest you.

Those are news helicopters.
LAPD is putting on a show.

Go put some clothes on.
- Don't be silly, Love.

The network will adore me
in this wardrobe.

Anyway...

if it's good enough for Wacko
Jacko, it's good enough for me.

- Beautiful.
Tits and teeth.

Fuck.

Morning.

Alastair Pinch, you're under arrest for the
murder of Monica Pinch.

Hey, come on.
Do we have to do it like this?

Let him go in and surrender himself.

- Hands behind your back.
Really? You going to cuff him?

You can't do me a solid for old times?
- Fuck you, old times...

You made 10,000 good cops
look like the fucking Klan.

Say goodbye to your pretty
house, huh, Olivier?

Last time you're going to see it.
- Daddy!

Daddy's just going
for a sleep of it.

Be a good girl, see you tomorrow.
- Let's go.

Hey!

Excuse me. Excuse me!

Did he get bail?
- 20 million.

Don't be silly. We're
paying the bail.

It's only 20 million. We're
insured for it. Hold on.

- I've got to talk to you
That's the end of it.

I spoke to my guy at LAPD.

He's why they turned
it into a festival.

You have to get rid of him.

Look, I'm happy to quit. I don't
want to make this worse for anybody.

Worse? You're making it better. Listen,
does one of you guys have the time?

Apparently, I have Charlie
Sheen in my office.

How is he making it better?

The bigger assholes the cops are
the more sympathy for our protagonist.

Cheer up, Waldo. You
can't win them all.

Yeah, yeah. Be right there.

Asshole.

Jesus! Waldo!

Oh, boy. You don't know me anymore,
you understand? You're poison!

It's good to see you too, Freddy.

You been in division yet?

Uh, uh. Probably twenty guys in that
building like to knock my teeth out.

Twenty? A hundred. Twenty would like
to shoot them out with a bullet.

I want the autopsy
protocol on Monica Pinch.

All the slides, all the photos.

Yeah, good luck with that.

They indict defense has
the right to everything.

So you can deal with me.

Or you can deal with
Fontella Davis.

Who's every bit the delight she
seems on TV. And who, by the way,

never got you Laker tickets or lied
to your wife to cover for you.

Charlie fucking Waldo.
Jesus.

Straight up, Freddie.
How'd you make this?

Cerebral hemorrhage.

Severe blow to the right temple.
Second contusion back of the head.

Probably from where she fell.
Victim was found locked in her house

with a drunk with two assault
convictions in England.

So I'm guessing suicide. And the alarm...
You know about that, right?

Turns out the alarm company has it
being on since the previous night.

Before or after time of death?

Too close to call.

Guy clobbered his wife
to death with a vase.

That simple.

Hello?
- I know who killed Monica Pinch.

Who is this?
- Meet me at that rock pile you live at Waldo.

I'm not there. I'm in LA.
-That piece of shit trailer. Now.

- Nini, is that a croissant?
- Give me one of those.

Nini, check underneath there.

Nothing? Anything?
Huh. Open this shit up.

This a Kindle?

How do you like it so far?

I'm trying to decide
between this and the Nook.

Looks a little cheaper.

I like the Kindle for content.

Content, right. How's that
tech support? Keep looking.

Pretty good.

Out of ten,
what would you give it?

Eight.
- Eight.

Fucking bitch...

I'm Don Q.

You heard of me?

This man is Nini.

Do not fuck with this man.

He was number one ranked
Inuit light heavyweight.

Nini, squeeze me.

Inuit?
- Yeah.

Is that like Eskimo?

No, no.
See...

Nini here,
he's from Canada.

You can say Eskimo in Alaska, but in Canada,
they prefer to be called Inuit.

To them Eskimo is
considered pejorative.

Can we...
Can we be careful with the chicken?

Yeah...

There he goes.

Wow.

That was fucking good.

Yeah, of course.

That ain't the reason
for our visit.

Where is it?

Where is what?

The Mem that Lorena
left with you.

Where is it, Waldo?
- Huh?

I'm starting to think you're not here
to tell me you killed Monica Pinch.

So you are a Detective.

Where are all your possessions?

I'm a minimalist.

What's that like the, uh, artist with
the white on white and shit?

Sort of like a lifestyle?
I only have 100 things.

100 things?

Well, ninety-nine now.

That's a fun fact, Waldo.

Especially if one of them is mine.

You got 24 hours and
then I want my Mem.

What's a Mem?

You call my boy here when you
got it in hand.

818 ME-NANOOK.

The alternative...

maybe you end up like Lorena.

Where is she?
- Nini,

Let's go.
- Hey, fuck face!

Nice. I don't think I look like a
fuck face.

If anything I think he looks
like a fuck face.

I mean, what does a fuck face
look like?

This doesn't make sense.

Back to 100.

That's right.

Charlie Waldo.

This is what I want. One: Everyone
who is on crime scene security.

Two: All transport medical
and emergency

personnel out contact with
victims and the suspect.

Don't talk to him. Nobody gives him anything.
He's a rat.

Nothing to see here. Shows over.

Let's go back to work.

How about first to respond?

I'll start there. Huh?

Don't talk to him.
Nobody talks to him.

He's not here, right? You ignore
him. Understand? Understood?

You do what I say. Not a deadbeat.
- You.

Officer...
Anus?

Annis.

High school must have sucked.

Do not speak to him, Annis
- You were at the Pinch house?

You're the first ones you and your partner?
- Annis...

Do you know who Fontella Davis is?
- Ignore him.

Do you want her on TV every night
making this case about you?

Shows over.

When you arrived at the house
was the door deadbolted?

You sure? It's frosted glass.

You couldn't see him unlock it,
you heard him that clearly?

The alarm was on, we saw him disarm it.

- What did I say?
Yes, Anus.

But the real killer
could have set

the alarm on the way out if
the door wasn't deadbolted.

See he's just talking circles...
- What about the murd weapon?

It's all bullshit.

The Earthenware Vase. It wasn't you that
gathered up all the pieces was it?

Do not fucking answer him.
All right?

Yes, Waldo.
He got all the pieces of the murder weapon.

I supervised it myself.

The Earthenware vase?
- Earthenware vase.

Only the Earthenware vase
isn't the murder weapon.

Not if Alastair Pinch killed her.
That thing's got to weight

28 lbs. It came down over
the victim's right eye.

You'd have to be a pretty strong
lefty to make a shot like that.

Not a drunken righty.

Almost convincing.

Pinch is a righty. I've watched him
pour. Officer Annis. Can I have a moment?

You see that statue?

That's a Regis award
for acting in England.

You ever seen it before?

Because it's missing.

That's the murder weapon.
- Oh, please, time to go home.

Three and a half pounds.

The earthenware vase, the
victim hit that on the way down.

Hey, don't look at him.

The Department is going to let you
get fucked on this. Believe me, I know.

That's it, Waldo. I'm going
to give you 10 seconds.

How about that?
- 10 seconds?

Yeah, perfect.
That's all I need.

Nine
Annis.

You don't want to be the guy who puts
away innocent man, believe me.

Might as well pull down your pants.
Cause you gonna get fucked!

Come on.
4, 3, 2, 1.

It sounded like he fumbled with the deadbolt.
- What did I tell you?

He was still drunk.

We couldn't tell for sure.

Shut the fuck up.

Anus.

Nobody talks to this scumsack.

This man is not a cop.
He is not one of us.

He's a fucking rat.

He's a person of interest in
a homicide investigation.

For those of you that
don't know body of one

adult female ID'd as
Lorena Nasimento.

She borrowed her
husband's Porsche.

Ah, she didn't tell you
about him, did she?

We found it on fire off the
freeway up by Magic Mountain.

Fully engulfed body inside.

That item she gave you.

That could put Don Q away for so
long you'd both die of natural causes.

Why don't you just give it to me.

I tried to warn you.

What the fuck?

Fuck you! Fuck you!
Fuck you!

Killed her!

They fucking killed her!

I, uh...

I had my bike on this rack.

I think I left my lock.

Following me all day, you...

Who the fuck are you?

I'm an attorney. I'm a attorney, specializing
in personal injury.

If you do not unhand me, then
I'll seek damages, please.

That's fine.

That's fine.

You a Private I?
- Yeah. I'm a Private I.

Who the fuck are you?

You, sir, just
committed a felony.

Presenting yourself
as a PI in the state

of California when you
are in fact unlicensed.

Now, I will level with you.

I have a client who
cannot understand why

you would associate yourself with
a murderer like Alastair Pinch.

Beautiful watch.

What is the time?
Listen, asshole.

I'm not going to let you
muscle me off this case.

Alright? Let's just communicate.
- No, Mr. Waldo.

There's been no threat
from me, nor do I intend one.

Or I'm going to fucking kill you.
- I apologize

Sir, listen. It is my hope and
my client's that this

pleasant, okay, happenstantial
meeting between the two of us

is the last time you and I see each
other. So with that in mind...

- So speak.
Sir, please.

Take my things.

You know, actually, on second thought.

Neither one of these are my bike.

Good day.

Yeah, thanks for the phone,
you fucking ambulance chaser.

Warren Gomes, Esquire.

Warren Gomes.
The last call was to...

Darius Jamshidi.

Darius Jamshidi...
Darius Jamshidi...

Where do we live,
Darius Jamshidi?

Jamshidi.

Not going to wrestle me off this case,
asshole.

Fuckers.

You ghosted me, Waldo.

Motherfuckers.

I'm looking for Darius Jamshidi.

Come on, who's going to help me?

Are you going to help me?

I spy...

with my little eye...

Darius Jamshidi.

Huh?
You look like a Darius.

- Alright! That's enough.
Really?

- Yeah!
Oh yeah? Really?

We're cool. Hey, hey, hey...
Don't look at me. He attacked me.

- That's enough friend.
Okay, fellas, it's two against one.

Come on.

Where's your sense of sportsmanship?

Stop!

Be cool, alright?

We need to take those handcuffs off his
belt

and handcuff one of his wrists, okay?

Tell him.
- Do it.

Okay.
Hey, hey, hey... steady.

Now I have an idea.

And I don't want you to panic.
Okay?

Just go with me.

Okay.

Alright.

Now.

We're going to take a little walk
and you're going to introduce me

to Mr. Jamshidi.

Alright, let's go
we're walking.

Is that him? Huh?
Him? Okay.

Not him. Huh?

I'm Darius Jamshidi.

The real police will
be here in a few minutes

but I'd be happy to
speak with you until then.

I see you're trying to buy
a television network, huh?

Huh?

This ends with you walking out
that door in a few minutes.

You sick Warren Gomes on me?

i'm assume you sent those kids,
too. The Palisades Posse.

Question is, why do you want me
to stay away from the Pinch case?

I don't know who you are.
- You met my wife?

But you just ruined my benefit

and no doubt cost a very, very important
charity tens of thousands of dollars.

Now I want you to go
release those two men.

And I want you to unlock that one man's
ear from the other man's backside.

I'll do that.

My husband will show you
to the tennis courts.

You'll find those men
there and your chain.

Thank you.
- Asshole.

She seems very nice.

This has been delightful.

The wall past the next house backs
out onto Mulholland.

If you'd be so kind as to
not cause any more drama in the party.

Tell me who Warren Gomes is.

Gomes' dead.

What are you talking about?

I just spoke with the police.

Someone shot him
just before you arrived.

It wasn't you perchance, was it?

Why don't you tell me what
he was doing for you?

Warren Gomes has...
had...

a talent for special research,

which allows my company to make
what it makes.

- Which is?
Money.

The goal is digging up dirt
to help you by the network.

Why do you want me to
stay away from Pinch?

I believe that's for you.

Waldo.

Waldo.

Alastair?

Rosario?

Alastair?

Where is Alastair?

Line?

- I'll recuse myself if I have to.

Shit!

- And cut.
- I'll recuse myself if I have to.

Must have been
distracted by her perfume.

Things are getting fucking
strange and I need your help.

Darius Jamshidi.

That name mean anything to you?

No, but Robert Blake called last night.

Asked if I want to play pinochle
on Thursdays.

You do realize that everyone
is sure you did this.

The only thing giving
me doubts is that

someone's busting my horns.
And me figuring out why,

is the only thing standing between
you and a life sentence.

So when I ask for help, I don't
know, maybe you should fucking help.

Simmer down.
How can I be of service?

Is there anything you're
not telling me?

Like what?

Like did you invite someone
over to your house that night?

No.
- You sure?

Absolutely.

Could you invite someone over to the house
and not remember the next day?

I've gotten married,
fathered children and taken out mortgages

and not remembered the next day.

When did you move the
furniture around?

I told you Monica was
a constant tinkerer,

- She was never finished with anything...
The metal table in my room doesn't fit.

I'm thinking someone
moved it, from your room

and the one in your room
from the living room.

Probably on the night of the
murder. Unless you moved it since.

I have not. Moved them. Since.
Piss off.

What shall you do, Detective?

If you find that I did,
in fact, murder my wife.

Will you stand for your client
or...or for Truth and Justice

like the incorruptible
Charlie Waldo of yore?

You stick with Truth
and Justice, Waldo.

If I've killed my
little girl's mother,

I'll take what's coming to me
and call it even.

- Daddy!
- Ha! There's my darling.

- I know all my lines for the play.

I can't wait to see your Rumpelstiltskin!
Come now.

- Today I brew. Tomorrow I bake.
- And then the prince...

Hey!
You sober enough to drive?

I suppose so, why?

Look, I'll meet you at your house.

- Yeah?
Yeah.

Just lock the door and
don't answer it.

Hey!
Fuckhead!

Tell me about Lorena.

Fuck you.

How about you tell me
about my mem?

I don't know what
a fucking mem is!

Tell me about my mem.

Who are you people?

Cool your jets now.

I think you're prevaricating, Waldo.

She says she gave it to you.

Last words the bitch ever said,
so I'm inclined to believe her.

You know, she was still alive
when I put the gasoline on her.

You dirty motherfucker.

Waldo.

Lorena.

Waldo.

You just had a concussion.

Okay, can you focus?

Yeah.

The school nurse went home and
I said I'll take care of you.

Oh, fuck is it?

No, I'm sorry. I
shouldn't confuse you.

It's 4:30 in the afternoon.

You've just had a concussion.

Okay, just go really slowly.

I'll drop you off of Alastair's.

A lot of traffic.

Thanks for taking me home.

I might have a better idea.

Do you trust me?

Why should I trust you?

Because you'll like it.

Alright, well, this is me.

Have a nice day.

You too.

Doing whatever it is that you do.

I'm late.

I'll call you.

I know you will.

- Mr. Lion did you find my invitation?

- What are you gonna do?
About what?

Your mane is gone!

- Can I tell you a secret?
Yes.

It was stolen by a princess.

- I will get it back for you, okay?
Will you?

Uh, huh.

Thank you.

You have a good day.
- I will.

Yes!

Fucking yes!

Fucking yes!

Yes!
Yes!

Mem...

Memory stick.

Nini. It's your old friend, Waldo.

What cat got your tounge?

Tell your boss he can have his mem.

Meet me tomorrow, Wilshire
and Catalina, 2 o'clock.

Young man. Could I ask you to use your
earphones, please?

I mean, those are the rules.

Excuse me.
Who's that you're listening to?

- Swag Doggg.
Swag Dog?

That's it.

Alright, thank you.

We got to talk about it.

It's all over social media.

But you're the first hip-hop
artist we've seen

spell his name D-O-G-G-G.

What's that about?

Well, you know, that third G is for
the big homie, god.

God baby.
- Praise the lord.

- Immaculent concepted, you feeling me man?

- Immaculent concept that pink purse
- from around your neck.

- That's a Botega.
- That is a purse!

I brush every...
-Morning!

I brush every...
-Night!

I brush and I brush till my teeth more...
- White!

Little dog.

Hey, buddy.

Earphones. It's rules.

Sorry.

Hello?
- Waldo?

Nice of you to call.
Where the hell are you?

I can't say.

Listen, there's a guy who's going to
reach out to you if he hasn't already.

Oh, he has.

Okay, he's for real.
Don't mess around.

I know.
Everyone thinks he's killed you.

He can't.
If he can't find me.

Hi, I'm writing a piece for Esquire
on the new face of hip-hop?

Hey, hey, hey, hey.

- Sir are you okay?

It's okay.
It's all right.

Could I have that, please?

Fucking...

Backup Nini.
It's all right, I got this.

It's pretty fucking bold of you
to be disrespecting me like that.

Especially in light of
Lorena's final hours.

You should have seen my fucking
eyes when I left that match, bro.

She was crying, snot
coming down ner nose...

I just talked to her.
Yeah.

So why don't we cut the bullshit?

And you tell me why Lorena was
messing with you in the first place?

Hey, if you don't want that flash drive,
I could always give it to the police.

Go get yourself an
ice cream cone.

Get yourself an ice cream cone.

Strawberry.
Like your shirt.

Come on, relax. Relax.
You're so tense!

Everything alright?
No problems at home?

I just want to know you can talk to
me, alright? About anything.

Lorena was working for me,
alright?

Not what you think.

Marital surveillance on behalf of my sister
watching my lazy ass brother in law.

Lorena comes to see me at this
chop shop I use as an office.

She sees my Mem sitting
there, the bitch palms it.

She walks out the office
like it's nothing.

Calls me later saying it's collateral
on what she claims I already owe her.

Alright, look, I think I got this.

You open to a suggestion?
- What you got?

Alright, I give you the mem.

You let Lorena come back to LA.

We walk up the rest in small claims.

Simple.
- Yeah? It's so simple.

I can't believe I didn't fucking
think of that.

What are you fucking nuts?

I got a reputation to uphold Waldo.
Are you aware of that?

Assbags against the wall.
- Motherfucker!

If you're looking for Q's flash drive,
you're out of luck. I didn't bring it.

- What did you just say, Waldo?
Sorry.

You got a permit for this?
- Nah.

I am arresting both of you for the
murder of Lorena Nascimento.

Want to read your boy here the
6 o'clock news or what?

Lorena's alive. I just talked to her.

What?
- Yeah. Yeah.

Fuck.

Well, who was in her car then?

Can I say, you both suck at your jobs.

Cuppy was never going to book us anyway.

Just another play to squeeze me.
Ain't that right, Cuppy?

You know, I'm the only one in town
who doesn't grease

this motherfucking cock sucking
motherfucker.

Little man...
You...

You had better watch your mouth on days
that you're not followed around by that...

douchebag eskimo.

What?
What the f...

He's an Inuit. You fucking Philistine.

Let's go, Nini.

You got another 24 hours, Waldo.

Okay.

Come on, let's get you up, Cuppy.

Hi.

Do you have a school
directory I can look at with the

names of the students in
each class and their parents?

It's for Jayne White.

Thank you.

Swag Doggg.

Jamshidi.

Listen, I'm onto something. What do you know
about Darius Jamshidi and Swag Doggg?

Are those animated characters?

They both wanted me to stay
the hell away from your case.

I went to the school today and checked
the directory. They're parents...

They're parents in your
daughter's class.

Now I'm thinking that Monica could have been
into something with these other parents

and one or more of them
wanted her dead.

The question is, though, what the fuck
is going on in that class?

Well who knows? Show and tell.
Finger painting. I don't know.

Hey, Princess, I'm trying to save your
life. You want to cut the self pity?

Self pity?

Look, you got a terrific little
girl. Who already lost her mom.

Does she have to lose her dad?

Nobody talks to me that way.
And you know why?

Because they need the money.

No, because they know they'll
get a damn good drubbing.

Put'em up. Come on, your turn, Love.
You'll get a real fight.

I'm not doing this. I'm not doing this!
- Come on.

Alastair, you're too drunk!
- Slippery joker...

Alastair!
- Hold still.

Not even if you weren't, like, twice my age.
- How am I supposed to...

Okay, look, I'm a pacifist. And I
refuse to get involved in...

Alastair?

Well done sir!
Have you have enough?

I've had enough.
- Let's you and I have a drink.

Help me up.

Oh, you've trimmed the
hedges, handsome devil.

You remember having mates,
don't you, Waldo?

Not like you.

There you go.

You're right, of course.
I am shitfaced.

More than usual.

Chinchin.

You know what you should have done
when you're young man died?

You should have gone on an epic,
two week, pub crawl.

Gotten it all out of your system.

To self pity.

That was a powerful observation
coming from the master.

You and I are two sides of the
same coin, aren't we?

And now here you are.

Back among the living in a way
you weren't just a week ago.

Oh and you see a difference?

All the difference in the world.

Looking refuckulous, the way you
confronted me out there.

You didn't have that in you
when you first

shuffled onto my set with that rat's nest
of a beard and those dead eyes.

You've been brought back a life, mate. Like
so many of us...

by singular carnal charms.

Is Jayne keeping with the baby?

I think about it all the time,

but I haven't thought it right to
telephone, given the circumstances.

And I was such a cad.

Especially after she told me.

Well, I was married, after all,
and what was I to do?

And then after the business
with my sweet Monica...

I'm tired, Waldo.

Fearing that you may not be as good
as others believe is common to all men.

But fearing that deep down
you may be a monster.

That's a whole different flavor of hell.

You should have told me about
you and Alastair.

There's nothing to tell you,
he's a kindergarten dad.

Don't worry it's not Alastair.
It's me.

I found this burner in his house.
On the night his wife died

he texted back and forth with
someone inviting her over.

Someone...

said she'd be right there.

Come on.

Let's talk.

Did you have a thing
with Swag Dogg, too?

Yes.

And that crazy rich guy, Jamshidi?

You know, I've been getting beaten up and
threatened all week because of you.

It had nothing to do
with Monica Pinch.

It was a bunch of rich guys that didn't
want their affairs with you exposed.

What do you want, Waldo?

I'm a thrill seeker and I'm
teaching fucking kindergarten.

What could be a bigger rush
than sleeping with the Detective

investigating a death you're involved in?

It wasn't just that.
I really felt something.

Start from the beginning.

And no bullshit.

I was hoping that he would leave
his wife, but he was an asshole.

And he kept talking about how she wanted
him to move back to England with her.

Like he didn't give a shit
about what I was telling him.

And after that total radio silence.

But I kept texting him, which was
probably stupid.

And then one night, he messaged me back,
saying that Monica was out the house and I

should come over and we could talk about
us. And before I can even ring the bell.

Monica opens the door and
tells me to come inside.

She's holding his phone.

She's the one who
messaged me to come over.

She tells me Alastairs passed out in the
study and she wanted to see who it was.

When she found out it was
her daughter's teacher, she got...

pretty unhinged...
kept talking about...

how L.A. was this evil city and
what a mistake it was coming to L.A.

I was scared she was going
to get violent. So...

I just ran out of there.
I drove away.

And then...

the next day, I heard
Monica was dead.

And I tried reaching out to Alastair,
but he was even more of an asshole.

He wouldn't talk to me, not even
when he was dropping Gaby off.

So...

when... when uh... when the chips started
falling on him...

and I just let them fall.

And you're pregnant?
Alastairs?

Jayne, we're about to start.

Yeah.

Be right there.

Can we pick this up later?

After the play I'm all yours.

First her necklace.
Then her ring.

Next I'll take, the child as the king!

Today I brew.
Tomorrow I bake.

And then the Prince child I'll take!

But no one knows, my little game,
and Rumpelstiltskin is my name!

Because my name...
she'll never guess!

Jayne?

That girl from Louisiana,
Laura, what's her name?

Yeah. I need you to call her agent.

Yeah, I mean, is she pregnant or is it...
I don't know, she's unhappy?

Because it's weird. I mean...

I don't know if she changed what she's
eating, but, you tell me. But they're

feeding her something very strange because
I've never seen a shape quite like that.

Wobbling through the lot. And I was
like, It's not going to work because

I don't want to look at that. Alright, well
you tell her. Alright, bye.

Mr. Waldo.

Mr. Sikorsky.

Apologies for the
interruption but

I made some progress.

Oh, you did! Fantastic.

What is that?

That, my friend, is signed by every
quarterback who ever won two Super Bowls.

May I?
- Please. Be my guest.

May I also say it is so good
to see your baby face

peeking out where once
a dead animal lay.

And just when you thought I
couldn't get any more handsome.

I, uh, have a run through but, um...

Fuck'em, I want to hear this.
Shoot.

It's good news, I guess.
I know who killed Monica Pinch.

Fantastic.

I mean.

There's a young lady named Jayne White.

She was the Pinch girls
kindergarten teacher.

Why did kindergarten teacher
want to kill Monica Pinch for?

She and Alastair were having an affair.

You don't look surprised.

They have a
complicated marriage.

You knew them pretty well?

Knew them well?
We did St. Barts last year.

I'm just so fucking relieved
it's not Alastair, you know?

You know, I knew you were my guy.

Fontella said, "Don't hire that bum.
He stinks in every way."

But I was like
"No, that's my guy."

And do I know casting
or do I know casting?

Is this chick in custody.
Are we good?

Jayne?
- Yeah.

No.

No, she left town.

Ah, we'll find her. She's a fucking
kindergarten teacher, not Whitey Bulger.

That's a win-win for Waldo and Sikorsky.
You get the killer.

I get to keep my syndication.

I mean, it's a tragedy. But, you know, as
tragedies go... But thank you.

You know, great job and...

Did you know Jayne White?

I know... of her.

Did you know that
Alastair got her pregnant?

Hey...

I'm just wondering if that was
something many people were aware of.

Many people? No.
This is the inner circle stuff.

Right but... You're in the inner circle.

I founded the inner circle. You know, he knows
what I'm doing, if you know what I mean.

I know what he's doing,
if you know what I mean.

So what was Monica Pinch's reaction when
she found out Jayne White was pregnant?

She was devastated.
- I bet.

I mean, she probably

pushed Alastair even harder to quit
the show and move back to England.

I can't speak to that because I don't
know her as well as I know him.

Right.

But you knew about the awards, the
Shakespeare rewards you talked about.

They're called Regis, by the way.
What did you say?

You said, "They were all under the bed."

Under the bed, in the attic. Didn't
matter. He just didn't want them around.

Ah. Gotcha.
It's funny...

They actually were under the bed.
- So?

It's just Alastair said he wasn't sure
where they were. It's not a big deal.

Listen, this is great chatting with
you, but time is not my friend.

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.

I'll let you go.

Thanks.

Monica Pinch.

Quickly.

Monica Pinch.

Now she didn't find out that Jayne White
was pregnant until the night she died.

So if she talked to you about it,

it must have been then, right?

Ah... I'm gonna have to back
you up a second there, Mr. Waldo.

You said that Jayne White
was the murderer.

Oh, no, I said
I knew who the murderer was.

Oh.

Warren Gomes.

Does that name mean anything to you?

- No.
Well, he was this lawyer.

I had a little bit of a weird
thing with him.

He kept following me for a couple of days,

and I kind of lost my temper,
and I confronted him one day.

We got into a little fight.

A couple of hours later, he got killed.

- Yeah?
I'm just trying to piece everything together.

The question is, why I bring it up...

He had the same kind of watch as you.
- Rich lawyer.

That's what I thought.
Only I researched them.

They're all individually made, right?

No two are identical.
Here's the thing.

The one he was wearing.
It looked a lot like yours.

Pure coincidence.
This one hasn't left my wrist,

except when I shower and sleep.

But you asked Fontella what time it was.

What?
When?

At the courthouse.
After Alastair's arraignment.

I'm afraid you must be mistaken.
But, uh... Oh, fuck it.

Take a seat.

I want to hear everything you're
thinking. Soup to nuts. Alright?

- Soup to nuts?
Yes, please.

Double fuck the return.

Let's do that.
- Let's do it. You sure?

Yes, sir.

Buckle up.

Well, I'm thinking...

that you knew what Monica Pinch
kept under her bed

because you were spending time in her bedroom

while Alastair was spending time with Jayne.

Mr. Waldo, that is brilliant.

I'm thinking that
on the night she found out

that he'd gotten Jayne pregnant
with Alastair passed out cold.

I'm thinking that Monica called you

to tell you she was going to
tell Alastair about your affair,

to get him to quit the show and move back
to England like she'd been wanting.

But you couldn't
afford to lose Alastair.

Not with the Jamshidi takeover threat.

I'm thinking... that you drove over there.

You were going to talk some sense into
Monica but she didn't want to hear it.

Next thing you guys are arguing, it
escalates and you pick up the Regis Award

and you hit her with it.

You didn't mean to do it.

It's an act of passion.
Thing is she's hit her head

on the way down and now she's not moving.
So you panic.

You start wiping down everything
you can remember touching.

But the Regis Award was on a wooden
table and that had blood stains on it.

Now I'm thinking, I'm just thinking,

maybe you were worried that
some of that was your blood.

You could have got cut in the fight.

So now what do you do?

You swap around some furniture.

You set the alarm on the way out. You
get rid of the Regis in some dumpster.

And you let poor old Alastair
wake up to take the rap.

How did I do?

Come on.
And the lawyer guy?

He blackmailed you.
Even made your cough up that fancy watch

which you couldn't resist
taking back after you shot him.

That is quite brilliant.

In fact, I should give
you a pilot deal.

There is one gaping hole in
your narrative, however,

why would I sabotage the
biggest asset on this network?

Come on. That's the easy part.

You told me yourself the scandal
made the show twice as valuable.

You knew Alastair would get off,
I mean, it's L.A.

the star always gets off.

And in the meantime, the more
publicity, the bigger the windfall.

So what do you do?

You hire the lawyer who
will make the most noise,

and then the Detective
who would make the most noise.

Even though your lawyer kept telling
you I'd be a shitty choice.

And let's be honest, I am a shitty choice.

I've never been a P.I.
The LAPD fucking hates me.

I'm so rusty. I'd probably be useless.

But I think you like
me for those reasons,

because that made me the last Detective

who would ever figure out
that you killed Monica Pinch.

and Warren Gomes.

A lot of moving parts.

A lot of moving parts.

I do have one question.

What made you so sure that you walk in
here and deliver that little pitch?

I'll be honest.

I only walked in 98% sure.
- Oh.

What was the other 2%.

I had to make sure you were a lefty.

I did make one mistake, though.

I really should have waited
until the cops got here.

You told them to come.

Well, if I timed it right,
they're already downstairs.

Of course.

I don't have to watch.

Now you just keep smiling.

Watch your head.

Come on, look lively fellas.

Pete couldn't make it himself?

You know he's not going to let you
have this collar, right?

I'm going to head to North Hollywood
tell Pete I'll meet him there.

See you in court!

What are you doing?

Get off my bike!

We're not cops man, we're extras.

Shut the fuck up.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Fuck!

- ...for Lady Justice. Make sure that neither
- predjudice, nor predisposition interfere...

Fuck!

- ...for 99 days, you do that, and Justice...

- ...but Johnny, he'd say...

- on the 100th day, a great judge...

- knows that he needs to be, Justice.

Ready for your close up?

Wait! Wait!

- I do know that as I sit here today...

How are you going to get away with this?

A light fell on set, happens all the time.

Last looks.

- That this here defendant...

Guilty.

What the fuck.
This place is falling apart.

Waldo.

Thank you.

Well, that's that then.
- Yup.

Would it be ungrateful to
ask what you're doing here.

I've been following you since
the recruiting office.

We even had to sit through that
Rumpelstiltskin bullshit.

Really?
- Yeah.

How'd you get on the lot?

Snuck in on a studio tour.
Yeah.

They really need to check
out their security.

I could be like a crazy stalker
or something, you know?

I, uh, I hope you don't mind.
I used your gun.

I was never here.

Yeah, I can work with that.

Grand.

You do know why I saved your ass, right?

Yeah. I got an idea.

Someone else kills you first.

I can't get what I want.
It will be a mess.

Nobody will know what
to do with themselves.

You know, I got to thank you.

It's not too clever keeping your kind
of business records in a flash drive.

Is that what Cuppy thinks is on there?

Business records...

Guys an idiot.

Why?
What is on there?

Epic poem.

Long ass motherfucker, too.

It's the only copy I got.

Epic poem that you wrote?

Yeah, that I wrote.

It's about the life of a dealer trying

to retain his independence and integrity
in an era of corporate style cartels.

Why an epic poem?

See me, I'm an autodidact.
It means I'm self educated.

I had to enrich my own life.

But my little girl, Dulce,

I'm going to make sure my
daughter gets a real education.

That way, she ain't stuck being no cop.

No dealer.

I want to give the poem to her. So
she can see the man I really am.

Waldo, I need my mem.

I need Lorena to come back, so...

I'll tell you what.

I want you to get my little girl
into that fancy ass private school.

Same one as that British dude's kid.

Get him to help Dulce
and bring me back my mem.

And Lorena can come back.

Have you got the juice for that?

You know, I just might.

Okay, Waldo.

You got another 24 hours.

By the way,
I love Johnny's Bench.

You know, my
granddaddy once said

"It's one thing to
write like a poet."

"And another thing altogether,
to write like a historian."

"A poet can rehash or sing
about things, not like they were,"

"but like
they should have been."

"And the historian..."

"Well, he's got to write about them,
not like they should have been,"

Fucking Lorena.

"but like they were."

"Without adding or subtracting
anything from the truth."

And might I remind you, Counselor,

you're getting dangerously
close to ruffling my feathers.

Do you understand the words
contempt of court?

Come in.

Fuck!
The man of the hour.

Come here.

Deftly done me old cockalorum.
No tongues.

Come and sit down.
Sit.

I want a lavish praise on you.

Is it too much of a cliché to say,

I don't know how to thank you?

Is it too much of a cliché to say,
I might have an idea?

Shoot.

I'm thinking you were right
about that epic two week pub crawl.

That's a brilliant idea.

Unfortunately, as of today,

this is my liquor of choice.

Sober is a judge.

Yes, very good.

I may drop dead any second, but
at least now I'm not inviting it.

I made a shambles of everything, Waldo.

Monica's gone.

Jayne's run off with a son or
daughter I may never know.

On the other hand, I
do have my sweet Gaby.

The least I owe her
is the best I have.

Now that could take more courage than
drinking yourself to death.

Don't I know it.

Courage, mate.
- Cheers

We're ready for you, Mr. Pinch.

Yes.
Let's off.

And, uh, don't tell
anyone about this.

They think I'm still a drunk.

They'll still let me paste the
occasional pretty boy.

I got your text.

Thanks for squaring
things with Q.

And yet all you talked
about was Pinch.

I wanted you to do that, too.

Hope it didn't cause you too much trouble.
- Oh, not at all.

Made some new friends.

Well, if you're up for it,

got something else
we could work together.

You know, I don't think my face can
take much more of your action.

Stop being such a Princess.

You know you loved every minute of it.

You look good.

Yeah, you look pretty good
yourself. For a dead woman.

How'd you pull that off?

A coroner down in San Berdoo
owed me a favor.

They let me have a Jane Doe
they were going to cremate, so

I burned her in
my ex husband's car.

Ex husband?

Almost, ex.

Oh, you want me to tell you if it
bothers me that you got married?

I don't need you to tell me.

And you disappeared on me.
I don't owe you anything.

Hey, I didn't say you did.

Why don't you tell me what
happened to your beard?

Who was she?

You were dead.
- Barely.

My body wasn't even cold.
- I was grieving.

Oh, you know what? Fuck it.

So that's it? You just breeze
in and breeze back out?

You ghosted me for three years.

Then I drive up your stupid
mountain and your ice man.

Then you come out here one week in
L.A. and you've got some little...

You know what? Forget it, Waldo.
I don't know what I was thinking.

Fucking Lorena.

Jesus fucking Christ!

Fuck me!

Give you a ride somewhere?

In this?

What's it get? Four miles to the gallon?

It's a C300 and I dropped 55K on it,
and I fucking love it.

So what's it going to take to
get you to shut up about it?

Let me drive.

Jesus, Waldo.