All language subtitles for Only.Murders.in.the.Building.S02E10.I.Know.Who.Did.It.2160p.HULU.WEB-DL.DDP5.1.DoVi.H.265-NTb

Coming this fall,
Only Murderers In The Building.

- That's very good. I wrote that.

- What did happen that night?

The killer stabs Bunny, and then leaves

through the hole in
the bottom of my closet.

Bunny said, "14 Savage."

Kreps is Glitter Guy.

But why would Kreps kill Bunny?

I mean, did he want her painting?

- There's no way that you could pull off
a murder this sophisticated.

- I said that's enough!

If I'm so stupid,

how come I was able to land
the smartest woman on the planet?

Every night, I'd go to

the local bar and grill,
the Chicken Chug.

This all has something to do with
All is Not OK In Oklahoma.

You should let this go.

You don't know what she's capable of.

You don't know what she'd do
to get what she wants.

Seriously? You're that terrified
of a podcaster who solved

the murder of Becky Butler?

- Yes.
- Why?

- Because I'm Becky Butler.

- Well, shit.

Before I became one of

the most talked about
people in the country,

Becky Butler,
I had a pretty ordinary life.

Ordinary, that is, if you assume most
ordinary people are pretty miserable.

Which I assume is
a pretty safe assumption.

How long is
too long to stay in a bad situation?

This is what Elizabeth Davies
was pondering

in the winter of 2003.

Daddy, I made you a healthy breakfast.

- Not hungry.

- I think if you got something--

- I ain't fuckin' hungry.

- Mayor Tipton's office.
How can I assist you?

Oh, yes, of course.
Just hold on one second.

Sir? It's your wife.

- Not now.

- I'm so sorry.
He's in a meetin' right now.

Is there anything I can
help you with, Theresa?

Sir, I was gonna get going,
unless you need anything.

- Oh, stay a bit, Becky.

Have a drink with your mayor.

- Oh, I should really get going.

- Are you sure?

- Well, my dad's expecting me,
so good night.

Well, maybe tomorrow.

You're not always gonna
be able to say no to me.

"I need to get out of here,"

were the last words
Elizabeth Davies wrote in her journal

only five days before her left hand

was found in her own mailbox.

This is Channel 37 News,

reporting on the disappearance
of Becky Butler,

a local Chickasha native and a member

of Mayor Tipton's executive team,

who went missing last week.

Authorities have no leads

and are said to be bringing in
outside law enforcement help.

- Nope.

- Excuse me, Ms. Canning?
- Mm-hmm.

- Um, ma'am...

My name is Poppy White.

I'm your biggest fan.
Cute.

Poppy, my favorite bagel.
What can I do for you, Poppy?

- Uh, I... I have a story

that I think would be
a really good podcast.

It's about a young woman

in Oklahoma. She disappeared.

- Lot of girls disappear, Poppy.

- Yeah, but, um,

she was being harassed
by the mayor of a small town,

and his campaign slogan was,
"It's All Gonna Be OK."

Um, "OK" as in "Oklahoma,"

and I thought All is Not OK In Oklahoma

would be a good title for a podcast.

- I like your style.

Missing or dead?

- Excuse me?
- The girl.

- Missing.

- Well, let's hope she's dead.

For it to even have a chance,
I'd really need her dead.

Ideally murdered.
Ooh! And by that mayor.

That would be amazing.

I'm sorry. Uh, what exactly do you want?

- I would like a job, Ms. Canning.

- So, when I discovered
Becky Butler's disappearance,

I just knew that I had to cover it.

Never did I think it would
become such a sensation.

But, a lot of the credit
really has to go to-- Ooh, Poppy.

- Yes, Cinda?

- Turkey sandwich, no lettuce,

no tomato!

No bread. Just some turkey on tinfoil

and a little bread on the side.

Where was I? Oh!

I find the term "genius" to be reductive.

The answer, as it turned out,

we are all Tim Kono.

- "We are all Tim Kono"?

Are people really listening
to this insipid shit?

I need a new Oklahoma.

I will not be the one-hit wonder
of true crime podcasts, Poppy.

I won't. I will not be...

podcast Nickelback.

- Have you given any thought

to my idea about Rose Cooper,

that artist who went
missing years ago?

- Art? Poppy, really?

Do you know what rhymes with art?

- Smart?
- Fart.

As in no one gives a flying fart.

I need something with
famous people, and blood,

and, ideally,
a hot girl with a great rack.

God, I need a murder. A good one.

And I'm tired of waiting
for one to fall into my lap.

God, you are useless!

Fine. I will make this happen
all on my fucking own!

- So Poppy is Becky Butler.
- Yes,

which means Cinda sent a mayor to prison

for killing someone
she knew was still alive.

- And now she's trying to top herself

by sending us to prison
for a murder she committed.

- God, is she good!

What? This is so audacious,

you know. I wish I'd thought of it.

Really. I mean,
I wouldn't have gone as far,

but what commitment, huh?

- Really?

Uh, don't blame the playa.

Blame the game, brah.

- No. Don't do that.

- She was right in front of us all along.

The storyteller artist framing us

to get the hell out of her podcast lane!

- But now, how do we get her?

- It's not gonna be easy,

but I have a plan.

- Ooh. What?

- I'm sorry. I thought a plan would,
uh, come to me in that moment,

but, uh, no.

Nothing.

Although...

Oh. No.

- Okay, we have
a ton on Oklahoma,

but on Bunny's murder?

- Well, we know she's working
with Detective Kreps.

- But, how does "14 Savage"
relate to Cinda?

- We still have the knife,

and Detective Williams
is running forensics.

We just reach out to her.

If Cinda's DNA is on that knife,
it's game over!

- Okay, I'm gonna text Detective Williams.

- We find ourselves up against

a very talented storyteller

and a very mediocre cop.

But how do we outwit them?

- We need a confession.
- Uh-huh.

- From Cinda Canning?
How do you propose we get that?

- Torture? Can we torture her?

Charles, get your concertina

and whatever you consider
your 10 most interesting stories.

- Hm, let me just muse on that,

uh, for a second.
- Mm.

- No! We need to unravel Cinda

like a...

uh, like, oh, jeez...

What's a thing that unravels?

- Uh...
- No, we just need to find the thing

that unravels Cinda, so she slips up

and reveals herself as the killer!

- Oh, that's good.

- And what's the one thing we know
drives Cinda crazy?

- A sweater!
- A sweater drives Cinda crazy?

- No, no, no. A sweater unravels, dear.
Try to keep up, really.

- A mystery!

- Poppy! Her assistant,
who drives her crazy.

- No, that's the word I was looking for.
Unravels like a mystery.

- Oh no, no, no. I like sweater best.

- Have both of you had strokes or have I?

- God!

This is really not feeling
like a finale yet.

Is it?

I have so many questions.

First off, do you prefer Becky or Poppy?

Or would you prefer Boppy?

Which has a certain je ne sais quois.
- I can't do this.

- Oliver, what did we agree on?

- You and Charles do the talking.

- Okay. We know you work for Cinda.

Mabel has explained how complicated that--

- You can just cut to it.

- How can we get Cinda
to crumble and cave like a...

crumbling cave?

- Excuse me?
- How do we get Cinda to confess?

- She'd never.

Are you serious?

- You must know things that upset her,
that might make her feel vulnerable.

- I mean, sure. Human error, interruption,

people who work for her
but don't look like her.

- Yeah, we noticed that one.

- Mm-hmm.
- Are there things that disturb her,

that might break down her defenses?

- She does not like
the inside of a tomato?

- Oh, I can see that.

I'm terrified by tomatoes.

And the inside of them?

Just awful.

- Okay, I guess that's something
we can work with.

- Is it, though? What,

are we gonna invite Cinda over
and make her a salad?

- Oh! Oh, this one's weird.

- The tomato was normal?

- Um, she's very afraid of slow-motion.

- I'm sorry?

- I went to a Super Bowl party with Cinda,

and every time
there was an instant replay, uh,

I saw her shiver, and then start
to faint, and then cry a little bit.

- Over the slow-motion?

- Slow-motion, she does not like it.

- Uh-huh.
- So, she's a true psychopath.

- Hello. What can I get for you today?

- Oh no, it's Cinda.

The finale of Only Murderers

is dropping tomorrow. Um...

Can I get a liverwurst
and marmalade sandwich to go?

Mm-hmm.

- Hi, Cinda. I'm sorry.
I'm on my way back.

There were train delays.

- Oh my god!
- That's horrible.

- Liverwurst and marmalade?
Is that a thing?

- It's the owner's sister's
favorite sandwich.

Bunny was so disgusted
we had it on the menu,

she called it "freak food."

- Well, hard agree
with Bun-Bun on that one.

Hey, Ivan! Where's my toast?

- Guys...
- English muffin, coming right up.

- It's Detective Williams. Hang on.

- Cinda's dropping the finale?

Not hard to guess who
she's gonna name as the killer.

- We're fucked.
We have got to put Cinda away today.

- We need to rally our resources.
- Right. That's right.

Hey, did Ivan ever take our order?

- Oliver, we need a plan.
- I agree.

We also need to eat.

- What'd she say? Did Williams
get any info off that knife?

- Yeah, she did.

Guys...

I think I know what "14 Savage" means.

Why are we here?

I'm organizing the estate sale,
but it's making me very sad.

All her plants are dying, and

why is that damn bird back?

- That shady email just said,
"Be at Bunny's at 7:00

"if you love good theater

and/or want to be part of history."

- I don't see cake.
The email said cake would be provided.

Cheap fucks.

- Am I dressed appropriately?

It's really hard to know
what to wear to a...

Killer Reveal Party.

- Uh, "killer reveal party"

meaning a party where
a killer is revealed,

or a reveal party that's killer in nature?

- I don't know, Jonathan.
Just be hot, okay?

- Welcome, friends!
- Oh, here we go.

To the show that's about to end.

For we have figured out who extinguished

the big, beautiful flame
of our beloved Bunny Folger.

- Alright, so who did it?

Who did it? Who did it?

- I'm gonna strangle that bird.

- You think we're just gonna tell you?

- Kind of felt like that, yeah.
- Yeah. I mean, why else am I here?

- Don't we kinda have to tell them
if they're gonna be part of it?

- Must you poop on every party, Charles?

Can't we have
a little dramatic tension here?

- Oliver, she's gonna be here
in an hour. Just move it along.

- Mabel, we can do this production fast,

or we can do it well.
What would you prefer?

- Fast. Do it fast.

- Okay. Well, then I will not
take responsibility for the reviews.

Alright. Okay.

Uh, first question.

Who here has had any theater training?

- Well, I'm on Broadway right now.

- Really?
- As a hyena.

- Uh-huh...

- And I once auditioned
for the part of Joseph

in Joseph and the Amazing
Technicolor Dreamcoat.

- The way you worded that makes
it sound like you didn't get it.

- That is correct.

But it has nothing to do with talent,

despite what my mother said.

- Uh, Lester?

- Uh, just a little light stage stuff
when I was younger.

- No shit!
- Yeah,

I graduated from Juilliard.
Started out off-Broadway with Tracy Letts.

We were rivals. Hand to God.
And what happened,

if you don't mind me asking?

- No, it's fine.
I just realized that my true passion

was being a doorman,
and I left the theater behind.

- Really?

- Are you nuts? No.

I stopped getting hired,
developed a drinking problem,

and was homeless for a while.

Almost died, cleaned up,

took the first job I could get,

and I've been stuck here ever since.

- Jesus...
- How tragic!

- Well, wasn't that a bummer?

Anyway! You're all here today

to play a part in
manipulating a mastermind

into a live confession on our...

cam show... Livestream.
- Livestream.

- Where the hell is the fucking cake?

- The cake is on its way!

But this was very last minute,
and this is not about the cake.

- Ah, they chintzed on the cake!

I'm leaving.

- Come on, Jonathan.
- Wait!

This is about us right now!

Bunny's fellow neighbors getting one shot

to bring her killer to justice!

- And we all really need your help.

- Fine.

But Bunny would have ordered
the cake from Sherman's on 92nd.

- True.
- She sure would have.

- Okay. We only have an hour.

And if we pull this off,

I swear to each
and every person in this room

that Charles will buy you
the cake of your choice!

- Okay. Here we go.

- I'm missing
a parent-teacher conference for this,

so your confession better be good.

My kid's teacher is crazy hot.

- Who said anything about a confession?

- Well, you said you were gonna
reveal the murderer live,

and you're the murderer.
So, by my math,

that makes this a confession, Ms. Mora.

- Are you really doing this?
- Mm-hmm.

- What the hell is this?

- It's a killer reveal party.

- As in a party that reveals a killer,

or a reveal party
that's going to be killer.

- See? It is confusing.
- Shh...

- It will all be explained.

And Cinda, we have
our recording devices on,

so you may want to turn on yours.

- I have a girl for that. Poppy,
please start recording everything.

- Would you like me to wire anyone
or just use the boom?

- Uh, just record all
the smart things I say

and all the dumb shit that they grunt.

Oh my god!

Okay, go ahead.

- Welcome to our killer reveal party!

Where we will reveal Bunny's killer.

It's also a killer party, simultaneously.

- Oh. Okay, so we were both right.

- Double entendre.

And it gives me no pleasure

to inform you

that the killer is here,

in this very room.

Oh! But that can't be! One of us?

Please say it's not true!

- Howard. Bring it down.

- Let's remind ourselves of what we know.

Bunny had a very normal last day of life.

She was contemplating a change.
A move, to Florida.

Fuck Florida!

- The three of us saw her that very night.

She was looking for companionship.

A friend.

But what did we do?
Bye-bye.

We rejected her.

We sent her away,

back to her apartment.

Where someone was waiting for her.

Someone who forced Bunny into my apartment

to frame me,

then stabbed her with Oliver's knife

and my knitting needle, then escaped

into the Arconia's secret passageways

that they knew about,

then used those secret passageways

to plant the murder weapon
in Charles' apartment,

along with a very valuable painting

of his nude father
they stole from Bunny's apartment...

Jesus, is this what
we're really telling people?

- It's a lot. We could have
tightened it up in rehearsal.

- But who... had an interest in framing

three... innocent... people?!

You did!
- Me?!

- Sorry! I got disoriented! You did!

- Cinda Canning killed Bunny Folger.

And how did she cover her tracks?

With the help of a crooked cop
she met years ago in Oklahoma.

- How did you know about Kreps?

Are you kidding?

The sexual energy
between you two was obvious.

I'd say more,

but this is
a family murder podcast.

- Cinda Canning is not a great
podcaster who solves murders.

She's a hack who makes
them up and packages them.

And this time, she tried
to get away with a doozy.

- Wow.

Really enjoyed the spelling it all out.

Very end of a Scooby Doo episode.
Very cute.

One little problem, though.

Why would I want to kill
an old woman I never met?

- You met her, Ms. Canning.

I have the logbooks.

You were actually here a lot
before Bunny died, weren't you?

- I was keeping tabs
on the Tim Kono investigation.

- You killed her.

You murdered her with a violent hand.

You murdered a sweet old lady

who...

She was my friend!

She was my only friend,

and you took her!

And why?!

For a podcast?!

Why?

Why...

- Oh, Jesus, he's wonderful.

- Howard, no.

- There is literally no motive here.

Why would I have done any of this?

What...

an...

excellent...

question...

OLIVER
It... is...

indeed...

- Why are you moving in slow-motion?

- Who's... going...

slow?

- Who... us?

- Stop it! Stop it! I-I'm leaving!

- Alright, stop!

- Oh god, what is that?

- So, you sign a big, juicy

$30 million podcast deal.

Problem is,

you don't have a juicy story to podcast.

So, you go looking

to invent one about a lonely

old woman who gets murdered

in a big... fancy...

apartment building.
- No... No...

- Honestly,

not that great.

Unless, the three people
who did the murdering

are three A-list celebrities!

- Oh. Sorry.

I thought you were being funny.

- Are we getting under your skin,
Ms. Canning?

Admit you did it.

Admit you did it!
Admit it! Admit it!

- Forget it! And I'm not
confessing anything

because... because...

- Because why?!

- Because she didn't do it.

- Mabel, we're so close.
What are you doing?

- I'm solving a murder.

She did it.

- Excuse me, what?

- This is the work of an artist

who just came into the picture recently.

Your gallery needed new energy.
Wasn't that what you said?

Turns out, you were making art

from my tragedy.

So why not frame me
and up the value of your art?

Is this all part of the plan?
- I'm really not sure anymore.

- I am outraged. And frankly,
haven't we been down this road before?

- Sorry. Who is this person?

And can we get her to dial
the accent down a little bit?

I mean, if I can't understand a word,
how's Middle America gonna get it?

You're a real charmer, Alice.

And a hell of a kisser.

Nice.

- But you're also a liar.

And a killer.

- Huh.

Bravo, Mabel. Bravo indeed.

Here, all this time,
I was thinking you were just a bore

with the drawing skills of a toddler.

- It was you at the Pickle Diner,

begging Bunny for
her Rose Cooper painting.

But she wanted 14 million for it.

"14 for Savage."

That was a little out of
your price range, wasn't it?

- You talentless, smug bitch.

- Holy shit, she did it. She got her.

- No!

- Oh! Oh!

Oh!
- Charles! Charles!

- Get off me!
- Hold her down!

Yes, 911? There's been a stabbing!

Yes, at the Arconia! Yes, he's bleeding!

- Charles? Charles!
- Charles! Oh my... Oh jeez...

You're okay, buddy. You're okay.

Oh!

Oh...

Charles...

- Jesus Christ.

Please tell me you got all that.

Unhand me!

It's okay, Mrs. Gambolini.

Don't be scared. Don't be scared.

This bird has seen too much, Jonathan.

- Police and ambulance
are three minutes out.

I'm so sorry, Mabel.

For all of it.

You poor kid.

But what you just did...

I mean...

Shit, you were incredible.

You are one hell of an investigator.

I could use someone like you on my staff.

I mean, hell, I...

I think you could have your own podcast.

- Oh, don't even. Don't you even...

- Poppy?

- What...

This was pure luck!

Th-there is absolutely nothing

that ties this Australian girl
to Bunny's murder.

Nothing.

- I'm English, you twat.

- Achoo!

- Bless you.
- Thank you.

Why does Mabel get a podcast?

Because she's pretty?

Because she boldly dated
the supposed killer?

I do everything for you.

I get your lunch,
and I respond to all your mail,

and I pick up your dry cleaning,
and I drop off your dry cleaning,

and I pick up your dry cleaning,
and I drop off your dry cleaning, and--

Why don't you just wear
something that you can wash?!

And I told you about the Rose Cooper art,

and you made a flying fart joke.

I told you all--

Achoo!
Okay, Poppy,

you know my rule.
Two sneezes in my presence means

you need to self-quarantine for a week.

Poppy?

Why'd you tell Cinda about Rose Cooper?

- It was an idea for a podcast.

Cinda was not interested...

- But you were,

and in that painting that Bunny owned.

- Achoo!

- Do you have some kind of allergy?

To Mrs. Gambolini perchance?

- Achoo!

- It's so strange.

The killer sneezed
when fleeing the crime scene.

- It's not a crime to be allergic
to rancid bird molting.

And what? You're gonna believe
some-- some young girl

that's hiding in your walls?

- Only the killer could have known there
was a girl hiding in the walls that night.

- And her name is Lucy.

And yours...

is Becky.

- Who told you that?

We did.

I wasn't stabbed.

It's all theater.

- We've been onto you
since this afternoon!

- We all have.

- I don't understand what's happening!
- It's over, kiddo.

I know the game you played
with me in Oklahoma,

and they know the game
you played with them

in this overpriced building.

- And I only real fainted once.

The other times were acting.

- I just wanted to make a good podcast.

I just wanted Cinda to notice me.

But things went wrong
right from the start.

Right from that night that I texted you

to get out of the building,
and you came back to your apartment.

How'd you figure it out?

- It's Detective Williams. Hang on.

Hey.
Hey.

So I got DNA off
the murder weapon. Saliva.

But get this.

It belongs to a dead girl

from way the hell out of state.

- Let me guess.

Oklahoma.

- How the hell did you know that?

- I think I know what "14 Savage" means.

- Sandwich...

14 sandwich?
Liverwurst and marmalade to go.

- That's me.

- The thing is,

before I became one of the most
talked about people in the country...

I had a pretty ordinary life.

Ordinary, that is, if you assume

most ordinary people are pretty miserable.

Which I assume is
a pretty safe assumption.

Once Becky Butler found the way

to use her own story to get a job

with her hero, Cinda Canning...

- Uh, what exactly do you want?

- I would like a job, Ms. Canning.

...she thought she'd be home free.

She even found someone
that was willing to help her.

Though, at first,
like so many things that go bad,

it was just about love.

So she went the extra mile

and plotted a bigger New York story.

- Yes, you can. She's old. And mean.

You deserve this. We both do.

You get to be famous, I get a promotion,

and we get to move out
of this sweaty shit-box. Yes.

You got this.
- I deserve it. I deserve it.

Ooh! Did I tell you about
the secret passageways I found?

What? Fuck, I fuckin' love you.

- And with that, another mystery solved.

So one last time,

for Only Murders in the Building...

- And for
Only Murderers in the Building...

- I'm Oliver Putnam.

- I'm Mabel Mora.

And I'm Charles-Haden Savage.

- And Cinda Canning.
Thanks again to our sponsor

Gut Milk Lite.
It's got all the flavor of Gut Milk

and none of the unexplained crunch.

- Wow.

Two murders back-to-back.
- Yep.

- Now we can start talking
to each other like people

and not just about murders.
- Right.

- Ah. Thank you.

- Okay, where's the wheelchair?
- Didn't you read the stage directions?

- No, I have one line.
- Charles,

your test scores are off the charts!

The network wants you out
of the wheelchair immediately,

and your dementia is in remish.

- Hallelujah! It's a miracle cure!

- Nice. You got de-dementia'd.

- Thanks, Luce.
- Last looks!

- Oop.

- Well, welcome back

to the world of the upright.
- Thanks, Joy.

- Hm.

Looking good, Charlie.

- Hey, Joy.
- Yeah?

- Uh...

- Are you asking me out on a date?

For when?

Are you suggesting tonight?

Yes.

- Oh, Charlie.

Finally, you got it out.

Jesus. God.

- You're doing it.
You're actually renovating.

- Well, it is about time.

- And does this become integrated
into a new design?

And do I?

- Uh, no. But,

you could grab a roller and help, please.

- Hey!

- Hey!
- Hey, girl.

- Look at you. Fresh from his triumph
in the land of witches and munchkins.

- Uh, triumph, I don't know
about that, but we survived.

- Yeah.
- Now, um, where is...

W-what are you calling her now?

- Oh, Mama G! Yes, yes, yes.
She's, uh, right here.

She's just looking a little piqued to me.

- Alright. Let's take a look.

- Winnie noticed it first.
- So you decided to keep her, huh?

- Well, I just... Winnie's grown
awfully attached, so...

Willie, th-there's something...

I-I need to tell you.

S-something I...

haven't been honest about. Uh...

- Dad.

If you're not my father,
then I don't know what a father is.

You hear me?

- How did you know?
- Come on.

I know all your tells.

- I love you so much.

- You gonna get that?

- No, no, no, not now.

- Who are we kidding?
J-just take the call.

- Well, I guess... You know,

just to get it out of the way.
You never know.

Oh, it's Donna. Producer friend of mine.

Hey, Donna.

To what do I owe this...

No, I know. I actually do owe you
a lot of money, but is that...

Is that why you're calling?

Oh, really?

What, did the director
fall out or something?

Broadway?

It opens in a year. Well, yes.

I-I think I-I would be perfect for that.

And who's the star?

Really?!

Ben?

Everyone gets opening night jitters!

I can talk you through it!

- I'm good.

Alright...

- Hey, look, I'm good, okay?
I'm gonna rock this place.

It's the other guy
you need to talk to. Fuckbag.

- No, no. So, okay,
so I did talk to him, and--

- Uh-huh. Did he apologize?

- Well, you know,
a lot has gone on, but...

Look, this is what I suggest.

Use it, okay?

Let the tension seep in between
you two tonight as a color.

- Okay, so, like, then I can kill him?

Because I just might, Oliver.
I'm warning you.

- No, see, now,
that is an interesting color.

- Places! Break a leg, Ben.

- That's a pretty good option, too.

- Oh. Well, anyway.
Okay, so I just--

Fun out there...

- Ah...

- Good luck tonight.

- Huh. Thanks.

- "Good luck" is a curse
in the theater.

- I know that.

- What, y-you don't think I know that?

I just didn't mention it

to be polite to you, you piece of shit.

- Hey. Hey.

We got two and a half hours to get
through. If I can do it, you can, too.

- I'm the pro here. Alright,
you don't have to worry about me.

- Be smart.

Stay away from her.

- Why?

What are you gonna do?
- Ben...

I know what you did.

- Hey, girl.
- Oh.

I can't believe this.
- Right? What a year, huh?

- Yeah. Well,

any year without a murder
is a good one in my book.

- Okay. Fasten your seat belts.

Hey, honey.

- So proud of you.
- Thank you, thank you, thank you...

- What turned me
into a creature of the night.

Let me tell you.

A cre--

Let me t-- Ooh...

Help me...

- Somebody! Anybody!

- He's not moving!

- You've gotta be fucking kidding me.