Original subtitles

Great, but I can see you thinking!

Less thinking!

Empty your mind!

I want you blank-eyed and slack-jawed!

Stare into space!

The thousand-yard stare!

That's it! That's it!

Right there! Yes!

We got it!

Someone get her some cocaine.

Her name is Lola Falana.

Sorry, Murphy. Above your pay grade.

Come on, Hoffman.

Miss Falana was on her way

to becoming America's next supermodel

until yesterday when she was corseted to death

at a fashion shoot for Popular Magazine.

She's the fifth supermodel to be killed in the last two months.

And Vice President Perry has declared a national emergency.

The fear is we're only a few murders away

from ordinary-looking women appearing on magazine covers.

My third foster mom was a supermodel,

so this one hits really close to foster home.

Has the FBI looked into it?

The Female Body Inspectors are completely stumped, so it falls to us.

Since all the models died

at a Popular Magazine photo shoot,

we're gonna commence an undercover operation

at the magazine's headquarters in Tulsa, Oklahoma...

the fashion capital of the U.S.

God damn it. What the hell do a bunch of ex-cops know about fashion?

Shit!

Fashion is perception.

And I know everything about perception.

The shoe was intended to enhance the calf,

the pant was invented to show off the buttocks,

and the shirt is nothing but a hat for the pants.

Look, we're heading into an unfamiliar world

with mysteries around every dark corner.

But after that, we're gonna solve this crime.

So in the immortal words of Tim Gunn... "Make it work"!

Excuse me. I'm here to interview with Anna Summour.

All right. Thank you.

- Tribeca?! - Tanner?!

What are you doing here?!

I'm on a secret mission to investigate dead models!

What about you?

I'm looking into embezzlement at the parent company!

Oh, my God!

Uh, w-what are you undercover as?

A lunatic?

No, as Ms. Summour's second assistant.

Uh, uh, honey, girl, look.

Luckily, she won't be in for another 30 minutes,

- so that's gonna give us... - She's coming off the elevator!

Fire's out!

My driver was 15 minutes late this morning.

I never called you a driver.

And the proofs that you were supposed to send me last night

- were not in my e-mail. - I totally forgot your e-mail.

Would you call Darien

and find out if he wants to do lunch today?

I don't even know who Darien is.

And, please, not the Cliff House.

What in God's name is this?

Oh, this is a stromboli.

It's kind of like a calzone,

but more like a pizza on the inside.

And what are you and your stromboli doing

sitting in front of my desk?

I am here to interview to be your new assistant.

Of course you are.

Have you even read Popular Magazine?

Yeah. Yeah.

I, uh, was particularly fond

of last spring's story about... tops?

Oh, that was our best-selling issue.

Mm.

Well, we might give you a shot after all.

But, um...

We're really going to have to do something about this.

Looks like she's wearing a garbage bag.

Is there any more egg roll?

There was one left. Where is it?

We found some DNA on her skin that definitely isn't hers.

Well, that's promising, but presumably,

a lot of people were touching her that day...

hair stylists, makeup artists, perverts.

I can assure you this person did not touch her.

What makes you so sure?

The reason this person never touched her is because

he lives in Peru and has never visited the U.S.

Maybe Falana did a modeling gig in Peru.

Checked her passport. She's never been to Peru.

Well, that's a real head scratcher.

How old did you say this model was again?

I didn't. 22.

Now I have.

No, she's not 22.

Look at the tan line on her finger.

So she was married. Big deal.

It's on the wrong hand.

That's a yo-yo string tan line.

Well, I'll be damned. She's right.

The yo-yo craze was late '80s, early '90s at the latest.

This woman either inherited the best genes in the world,

or something's keeping her looking incredibly young.

All right. Here's what we do...

We fly down to Peru, and we have a talk

with this guy with the DNA.

Here's the kicker...

You can't have a word with the guy... he's been dead for two years.

Chubster.

Uggo.

Dump truck.

Revenge of the blob.

Danny, why is it so difficult

to find models who can actually wear the clothes we feature?

We had skinnier ones,

but they fell through the subway grates.

I'll find some more, Ms. Summour.

Ladies. Come on, shoo.

Shoo, shoo, shoo, shoo.

- Danny? - Yes?

Where's the new boy?

You know, the boxy one.

You mean me?

Oh, God.

My son wants to read the new Harry Potter book,

and I want you to get it for me.

I don't think there is a new Harry Potter.

I read in Newsweek magazine

that J.K. Rowling was thinking of writing a ninth book.

I want that book on my desk by this afternoon.

Absolutely.

So these models dying... crazy, huh?

Models die. That's the business.

Now, if you're quite finished with your exclusive interview,

I need someone to muck out the stables.

Yes, ma'am.

And, uh, you do something to step up your look.

This is a fashion magazine,

not a Macaroni Grill.

Is it really that important? It's just clothes.

Where the hell is Tribeca? We were supposed to regroup.

She's working late for that woman again.

All she cares about lately.

I'm gonna hit the head.

Wha... Gah!

Sorry.

I was doing some forensics tests on the other dead models.

Charo was supposed to put them back in their graves.

Not before I've completed my analysis.

What? You're gonna read the faces of dead people?

You'd be surprised how much the dead have to say.

I wish I had stayed in school.

We found DNA from several different dead Peruvians on all five models.

This is difficult for me to say, but I'm stamped.

Sorry, stumped.

None of the women had ever been to Peru?

And none of the Peruvians had been here.

Damn it! I hate the weird ones!

Would it be too much to ask to have a robbery gone wrong

resulting in three dead and two wounded?

Ugh. Sorry I'm late.

I'm dealing with like nine different things.

Okay, send.

Hey, guys. What's up?

Sorry I'm late. I'm dealing with like eight different things.

This is the first night you've worked late in a row.

When are you gonna take some time to work on this case?

I am working on this case,

which means that I have to maintain my cover.

But I'm here now, so, what's up?

- Okay. Well, all five models... - That's her. I got to go.

I forgot to give her "Harry Potter and the Clump of Hair."

Well, gee, if you get a chance to,

I don't know, tell us what you've learned so far...

Yeah, yeah. Yeah.

Anna Summour definitely knows something.

I asked her about the models, and she got real squirrelly.

Ugh. That's kind of all I got right now,

but we can check in later in the week.

- We have to go to Peru. - Oh my God, that sounds so fun.

No! It's because all the models...

Yeah. No, I'm no my way. Okay.

All right, guys, call me when you get back from Peru,

and we'll totally set up a lunch or something.

TTFN.

"TTFN"?

Feels very pushed.

I got the manuscript, and I had J.K. Rowling

change Harry's name to your son's name.

Fine.

Everything okay?

Magazine's going under. Hm.

Ugh.

Did you ever think about doing anything else?

Like when you were a little girl,

did you ever have a dream?

All I ever wanted was to be beautiful

and fashionable and a fireman.

Well, it's not too late.

There's fires everywhere nowadays.

I like you, Angie Tribeca.

You got a good head on your shoulders.

But your face could use some work.

Try this cream...

once at night and once in the morning

and twice during the day.

I think you'll find. In a week,

you'll be staring at a 45-year-old in the mirror.

You know, Anna, these past...

- Please leave. - Okay.

_

_

Where the hell is the guide?

- Dead. - What?

Jaguar got him back by the river.

I'm sure I've seen these names before.

Let me run them through the database.

We are here at your pleasure, sir.

Whatever customs or ancient traditions you have here,

we would like to respect.

I'm just gonna enter them into the computer.

Gracias for that.

Computer, search mode.

What's he doing?

I think it's some kind of prayer.

No, we... we switched to voice mode about three years ago.

Search names Pedro Martinez, Nomar Garciaparra,

Manny Ramirez, David Ortiz, Wade Boggs.

Searching.

Don't. You'll hallucinate.

Ah, well, it seems like these were just drifters

who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Well, I don't know how you run things down here, Major Chocano,

but in America, killing is a crime...

unless it's done by a rich person.

No, it's a crime down here, as well, Señor Atkins.

There's a notation next to each one that says "Gordo."

Gordo is, uh, how you say in English...

- Gordon? - A gourd?

Like, we have a joke down here...

Your mama's so gordo, Machu Picchu climbs her.

Like, mountainous?

Possessing many steps?

Fat. The victims were all fat.

- Can I have a cookie? - We're out.

But he's eating one.

I brought it from home.

Package for... Special Division Force?

I'll sign for it. It's here, sir.

Let's go.

So this is our fat Peruvian?

Wow. The standards for beauty down there

must be really high.

This guy is absolutely not fat.

Look at all this extra skin.

This man was obese.

So what? He lost weight through diet and exercise?

Not a chance.

It appears someone sucked all the fat out of his body.

What? How do you know that?

Look at the buttocks.

See that pinprick?

Someone tapped this ass.

Someone tapped this ass hard.

I cannot seem to get this ensemble to pop.

Don't ask me. I don't know jack about fashion.

Ms. Summour said if I come up

with some great ideas for the September issue,

she'll take me to fashion week in Baghdad.

Then I can crack this whole embezzlement thing wide open.

I don't know. I just think it has too much going on.

Hmm.

What if you just went simpler?

Hm.

Tribeca, you just dressed her as a cop.

Look, nobody in the fashion industry

is ever gonna look at this and think...

I love it!

Neutral colors. Clean lines.

Is it a man? Is it a woman?

This. This is what I want for the September issue.

It was my idea.

I think it's absolutely brilliant.

Say, if you're not too busy,

would you like to join me for fashion week in Baghdad?

Oh, I-I couldn't possibly...

say no to that.

Count me in!

Excellent.

Here's to Maria Charo, whose birthday is next week.

Thank you, thank you. You're all too kind.

My birthday is today.

Oh my God, Scholls, how could I have forgotten?

You said you had a breakthrough on the case?

The discovery that fat had been sucked

out of all the Peruvian victims got me thinking.

What is fat used for?

It's in our food...

they use it in soap...

plastic bags.

It's even in crayons.

But did you know that it's also a common ingredient

in many beauty products, including moisturizers?

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

So I went back and did tests

on all the dead models and found out

that they all used the same age-defying face cream.

Someone is selling a face cream with human fat in it?

That begs the question... does it work?

Someone's smuggling illegal human fat into the country,

we need to find out who.

Whoever's doing this is narcissistic, vain,

shallow, obsessed with appearance,

and willing to do anything to cling to whatever sliver

of youth that's slowly slipping from their fingers.

Yes, but does it work?!

Angela Geils.

Hey, it's me. I'm stuck at the office.

How long are you guys gonna be there?

It's Scholls' breakthrough, and you're missing it.

It's not like I don't want to be there.

Which reminds me,

I'm not gonna be there tomorrow for your realization.

I'm gonna be on a flight to Baghdad.

Baghdad? What the hell is going on?

Do you know how many girls would die for this job?

Yeah, five.

We just found out that they all had a face cream

that had fat from murdered Peruvians in it.

Human fat in face cream?

Okay, that sounds insane. I got to go.

We're almost finished with the September issue,

and we have to get to Kinko's before it closes.

Well listen, Mom,

you need to decide what your priorities are.

Tomorrow, we're planning a really big bust,

and if you don't show up...

I guess we'll know what you chose.

A.J., come on...

A.J.?

You know, the more I think about it,

the more I realize that you'd be the perfect model

for our new cop look.

Well, I've never been a model before,

but I have been wearing clothes since I was 12.

Freeze, scumbags!

Hands in the air!

Get 'em up right night now!

Are you the police?

Hyah! Oh!

Any other questions?

No, man. We're cool.

What the hell is this?

- Heroin. - I know it's heroin!

Where's the fat?

I don't know what you're talkin' about.

Heroin.

Real fur.

A decent studio comedy...

I don't know, sir. It should be here.

Listen, Sir Tub-a-Lard, it's a boiling hot day out here,

and I don't have time for nonsense!

Wait a minute. What smells delicious?

Hand me that knife.

Well, well, well. Somebody had a big breakfast.

Please, I have to deliver this fat,

or Ms. Summour will kill me.

Wait a minute. Summour's running this whole thing?

Tribeca. She's in Baghdad without backup.

What do we do?

If only we had a plane.

Do you know how to fly a plane?

Of course.

Shit.

It's a stick.

Perfect!

Loving it!

Now show me sexy.

Amazing!

Let's take five.

You are absolutely transcendent.

Why don't we replenish your energy with a little snack?

Oh, I could eat something.

Spoken like a true model.

I believe these are your favorites.

You got the full Stromboli Stack from Stromboli Shack?

Had them flown in specially.

Tanner? What are you doing?

It was supposed to be me at the fashion show, not you.

Those was my designs that was supposed to been picked.

For God's sakes, Danny, put away the gun.

Fashion is a cutthroat business.

It's every man, woman,

and underage Romanian girl for themselves.

And you would say that, Ms. Summour.

That's why you've been embezzling money

from the parent company's accounts.

What is this?

It's a bust.

Danny Tanner, Fashion Police.

And you're also under arrest for attempted murder.

That stromboli was poisoned.

Oh, my God. All of them? Or just that one?

I don't know.

But if she was trying to kill you,

it's because you knew something she didn't want you to know.

All I know is that there's human fat in the face cream...

that you gave me.

You're under arrest for the murder of five supermodels.

Don't you understand?

They were all getting too old!

That cream might have staved off the inevitable for a few years,

but in the end, they were all going to turn 24.

Do you want to see a 24-year-old hag

staring at you from the cover of a magazine?

Do you? Do you? Do you?!

Take her away, Tanner.

Tanner.

Thanks, man.

It's all good, Tribeca.

It's all good.

I'm not sure we're airborne.

Nah, you're just disoriented.

I can see our car.

Synced and corrected by hawken45 for www.addic7ed.com