All language subtitles for only.murders.in.the.building.s02e01.1080p.web.h264-cakes.eng

We should do our own podcast.

- Only Murders In The Building.

- How do I know you?

- Oh, Charles was in an...
an old TV series.

What was it called? Bozos.

- Brazzos.

I have to finish this.
I have to see this through.

Do you like your Beats?

I can't get any work.

- You have to sell the apartment.

- It's all I have.

All in favor of evicting
all three members of

Murder, She Wrote?

- A direct route into Bunny's.

- You're sleeping with a murderer!

- This ends now, Jan.

- Hey, Bunny! Congrats!

You're the most hated person
in the building now,

you cranky old bitch.

- "Get out of the building now."

Mabel!

We gotta get her!
I'm not leaving her here!

- It's not what you think.

Bunny!

- Is that your knitting needle?
- Yes!

- Don't say a fucking word.

Coming this fall,

Only Murder-ers in the Building.

New York City.

Who doesn't want to become
the talk of the town here?

I mean, make a name
for yourself in this city,

and it can feel like the most
sparkling place on Earth.

It's that murder guy! Hey!
- Hello.

Whoa!

Full of fireworks and excitement.

But there are two ways
you can become known here.

You can become famous
for doing good things...

or you can become infamous

for doing truly terrible acts.

You wanna avoid that second one.

Whoa!

- Look at you. Look at you,

you dusty, old, dried-up dribble dick.

You got no fuckin' idea how
much trouble you're in, do you? Hm?

This guy's got no idea, huh?

- None.
- You have no clue, huh?

What kind of a sloppy shit-mess

you chodes are swimming into, right?

Right? No.
- Uh...

- You know, the only thing that could be
worse for you two low-hanging,

dehydrated scrota-sacks...

is if you were her.

Yeah, yeah, I-I-I don't do podcasts.
You know, I-I like Howard Stern.

You know, old Stern,
before he started doing therapy

and got all gentrified and shit.

Back when it was just
the Wack Pack and Butt Bongo.

Before Baba Booey got those big,
filthy teeth fixed. You know, but I, uh...

I did try your podcast. Yeah. Mm.

It was ab... It's absolute shit.
I mean, it really...

It sucks, but this, uh,

one part from the first episode...

Let's just say it, uh...

stuck out.

I have this recurring dream. I'm in bed.

I wake up, and there's a man
standing over me.

So, I kick him right in the nuts,
and I grab my knitting needle,

and I take him down to the bone

with that thing.

- That's you.

- Lawyer.

- What, y-you're asking for a lawyer?

- No, I'm asking if you're a lawyer,
you know, 'Cos you're so smart.

- Sorry.
- What?

- No, my bad. It was a little funny.

- What, her?
- W-what she said was a little funny.

- What, you think
you're Rodney Dangerfield?

- Oh.
- Who?

- Who?

- Hold on a minute!

- You can't pin this on Mabel.

- She couldn't have done this!

I wanna believe you.

I really do.

But do you hear what you are saying?

A woman magically appears,
in your apartment,

with a goddamn
knitting needle in her chest?

- Come on.

- She--
- What? She was what?

- I went to get champagne,

and Bunny was just there.

That's all I remember--

- No. No.
- Bullshit! This is bullshit!

Mabel, there's so many
fucking holes in your story!

You know, there's more
fucking holes in your story

than we have in our victim,
and that's a lot of fucking holes.

Eight fucking holes, to be exact.

- Do you think that it makes you seem
tough saying "fuck" so much?

- What?
- I mean, I get it

because I used
to think the same thing,

but then I realized something.
Do you wanna know what I realized?

- Yeah, w-w-what did you realize?

- Fuck you. Lawyer.

- Fuck.

- She was gone for two minutes.
We were celebrating. W-why would she--

- Okay, th-then l-l-let's
just talk about you,

okay? Let-let's talk about you.

You hated Bunny, right?

The Board President who
wanted you out of the building

'Cos you couldn't pay your rent, right?

- Now that I think of it,
I have had my doubts about Mabel.

- You know, I played this scene
a hundred times on my show.

Especially season nine
when the budget got cut,

and we could only afford
to shoot in interrogation rooms.

So I know your tricks.

Hi! Charles-Haden Savage!

- That's a decorative mirror, Charles.

I think the two-way
you looking for is on this wall.

- I knew that.
Mm-hmm.

The old decorative mirror trick.

Nice try. Might have worked.

On a moron.

- Sit down, Charles!
- Yes, ma'am.

- Let's cut to the chase now!

What did you do with the knife?

- Knife?

- Yeah. What did you do with the knife?

- The blade. The one you used.

- So you have three people
who solved two crimes

that you couldn't figure out,

who are now clearly being framed,

and you don't even have
the real murder weapon?

- It was you, right? Who texted us
to get out of the building last night?

- It most definitely was not me.

- Gotcha. I knew it was you.

- I know you did not just wink at me.
- Kinda did.

- Wow! Look at this.

Hold it a second.

They cropped me out?!

This is such bullshit.

You know, I'm also involved in this.

- Okay, alright. Focus. All eyes on me.

You are all... persons of interest now.

- Thank you!

Meaning...

that we can't charge you. Yet.

But that can change at any time

with new evidence.

And we are looking. Believe me.

Because that is our jobs, not yours.

So, that means no investigating,

that means no fucking podca--

Mora, please tell the tiny one
to stop recording me.

- Oliver, put the phone down.
- Oh...

- This is your ticket to live your lives.

You're free to return to your homes. So,

get a new hobby. Now.
I do not give a damn what it is.

Just as long as it doesn't
land you in jail.

- Like knitting?
- Alright, don't be a smart ass.

- It's kind of her thing.
Well, your thing is going to be

making toilet wine in a jail cell

if you don't zip your lips. Got it? Go.

Come on! Go! Now!

- Oh my god!
- Oh my god!

Oh my god!

Sweet freedom for the innocent!

And justice for all crime-fighters!

They were wrong!

Oliver Putnam can
get arrested in this town!

And, oh, baby, does that feel wonderful.

- We're live right now!
- I'm not signing, please.

I'm just like you!

Like your Beats?

- Huh?
- It's a callback

because we're right back where we...

Forget it.

- She's not wearing Beats.
- I said forget it, didn't I?

- So, uh, Bunny was just...

- There, I think.

- Did you see anyone else?

Well, how could that be?

- Poor Bunny.

I mean, my god, we...

never got along, but still.

Poor Bun-Bun.

That plays right?

I mean,
if you were on a jury, you'd buy that?

- Oliver!
- You know, it's very rare

for a true crime podcast to do a sequel.

They usually move on to a new case
that never hits like the original,

like when they followed up
the great Dead End with that, uh, Bill...

- Billy the Butcher. It was terrible.
- Oh, that was the worst. Terrible.

- So, you know, we have a...

we have a real opportunity here.
- No, no.

You heard Detective Williams.
We can't get tied into-- I can't--

Oliver, stop!

I need a life away from death.

We should all just let ourselves
be a little boring again.

- Can I just say something?

I'd rather be dead than boring.

Did you guys hear that Bunny
was stabbed with a knife

the cops don't have yet?
- Wait a minute,

it wasn't just the knitting needle?
That's huge!

- Look!

Guys, maybe we could have
brunch once in a while

or go watch people
play chess in the park.

Whatever it is guys your age
are into besides murder.

Later.

- Well, the chess thing, yeah.
- Brunch. I'd rather have brunch.

- Oh!

- Hey, Brock!

Yeah, I can hold for Brock.

Hey, Brock.

Yeah. No, no, no.
Just for questioning.

Uh, th-that probably didn't help
my chances of getting work though, huh?

What?

A reboot?

- Hello, Mabel. This is
Alice Banks from Third Arm Gallery.

We're a little artist collective downtown.

Uh, maybe you've heard of us.

I know this is insane,
given all you're going through,

a stranger sending you
a random video message,

but I really love your mural,

and I haven't been able
to stop thinking about it.

Uh, anyway, um,
I know this is last minute,

but the gallery are having
a little opening tomorrow,

and we were wondering
if you wanted to come.

So... yeah.

Sending you lots of love
and hope to hear from you. Bye.

- Come on, baby.

Oh, hold the elevator!

Thanks, lover.

- Oh.

Well, hello there, Amy Schumer.

- Well, hello.

Are you moving into Sting's apartment?

- Uh, oh, yes!

Sting. Right. Such a fan.

- Oh, we all are.
- Yeah.

- I loved him before
he was even in The Police.

- Sting's in law enforcement?

- Well, welcome to the building.

- Are you Oliver Putnam?

- Well, that depends. Are you suing me?

- No... I only sued Judd Apatow.

Oh, and that must make you Winnie.

Oh.

Did we ever find out who poisoned you?

I just have to say,

I really enjoyed
Only Murders In The Building.

- Oh, well, thank you very much.
- No, no, no. I mean,

I really enjoyed it.

I was never that into murder before.

Podcasts. Murder podcasts.
Until yours. But you...

you guys just made it feel so...

cozy.

You know? Just cozy murder.

So good.
Plus, I-I mean,

y-you were so raw.
You know, all of you, and just--

and not afraid of bombing.

Just really wasting people's time.

Reminded me of my early days
doing stand-up. Well, day.

I got great pretty quick...
Is there gonna be a second season?

- Well, second seasons
are tough, you know,

but people keep dying.
So, I suppose there's...

always a chance.

- Oh.

- Would you ever consider, uh...

Never mind. It-it's stupid.

- What?
- No, it-it's...

I shouldn't have even
opened my tiny mouth.

- Oh no, come on. What? What? What?

- Okay. Well, I just had a thought...

Would you ever consider selling
me the rights to the podcast,

so I could turn it into

an 8- to 10-episode streaming series

with exclusive internet content
leading to gamification?

- This is a thought you just had?

- I mean, surely, you've considered
developing it into a series.

- Well, I'd be lying if I didn't say

I had a 200-page pitch deck

floating around my apartment
somewhere.

- Okay, good!

So, come by my place.
We'll figure it all out.

- Okay.
- And, uh...

don't forget to bring a turkey.

- Oh!

- Callback!
- That's a callback. So clever.

- But do bring tequila.

And ice.
And a glass.

- God, I love this building.

- And Brazzos is doing a cross-promotion
with Golden Girls,

so we go on Password,

and my partner is Betty White,

who turns every clue into,
like, something naughty.

And I have to act outraged...

She was good people.

- I could hear these stories all day.
- Mm-hmm.

That's why Brazzos
is so perfect for a reboot.

You know, I agree with you

because sometimes I'm flipping
through the TV, and I'm thinking,

"Hey, where are all the cop shows?"

'Cos th-there seems to be
a lot of cop-- Anyway,

so, do you think
they're gonna go for this?

- Oh. We're picked up for series already.

Eighteen episodes on CBS.

- Whoa!
Crazy, right?

With... Naomi Jackson.

I love her!

Who's she playing?
- She's Brazzos.

- She's...

And I would be...

- Uncle Brazzos.

Uncle Brazzos...

And, uh, Naomi would be my...

Niece.
- Niece.

- By marriage.
- Uh-huh.

- Or she's a friend who affectionately
calls you "Uncle."

Or something.
The writers are spit-balling.

- We had you in mind
for this early on, but...

honestly, we thought you were dead.

The casting director had
you listed as "NA/dead."

- Then you start popping up
on all the front pages

of all the papers. Crazy great timing.

- So...

is this an offer?
I'm Brazzos again?

- Uncle Brazzos.
It's a series regular.

- As long as you stay out of jail.

- Scorching.

Y-you're the real deal, aren't you?

- Excuse me?
- Bloody Mabel.

Here. Uh, quick selfie together?
- Oh, I--

- How about a quick exit? For you.

Have a good night though, sir.
Thank you very much.

- Thank you.

Hi, Alice.
- Hi. I'm really glad you came.

- I'm so glad you're not a catfish.
- Nope. No, no.

All too real.

Uh, but you better watch out
for these piranhas, though.

I hope you brought your knitting needle.

My dad got me a jigsaw puzzle
of Frida when I was 4.

It was 1,000 pieces.

Small ones with repeats
of the same flowers.

I finished it the day
before I turned 5.

- Sorry. There's just something...

uh, very compelling about you.

- Thank you,

but you don't really know
anything about me.

- Well, I know four things.

I know some people
are calling you Bloody Mabel,

I know I like your art,

I know I want that dress, and, um,

now I know that you had
a Frida puzzle as a kid.

- Well, all I know about you
is that you like sliding into

people's DMs,

and that you'd like my aunt's closet.

Because that's where got this dress from.

- Yes, very likely. But,

I don't just DM any old broad.

- Hm. Why me?

- It's an instinct.

And we could use some new energy
in our collective.

- So, this is, what, a recruitment?

- Hm. Total recruitment. How am I doing?

- Decently. I might need a pamphlet.

- You know, Frida didn't have an MFA.

She didn't even have two working legs,

but what she did have is natural talent
and everyone's attention.

Remind you of anyone?

Look, it's not a bad place to start from,

as long as you have the right support.

Why don't you come back
and get to know our space?

- It's not a cult, right?

- Just bring your paints.

- I'm just gonna need to hear you say
that it's not a cult.

- Mm.
- Just out loud...

In my new podcast,

Only Murderers in the Building,

we will probe into the Arconia

and three residents
who remain prime suspects

in the grisly stabbing death
of Bunny Folger.

Charles-Haden Savage,

a washed-up television cop

whose blurred sense of fact and fiction

led him into a tangled romance

with the last Arconia murderer,

and whose father spent
the latter years of his life

in and out of prison.

- How do you know that?

- I'm Cinda Canning, bitch.

"Bloody Mabel" Mora,

the freeloading 20-something who has
now been intimately involved

in three grisly murders
in the same building.

We will uncover the roots
of her violent past,

not only as victim and witness,

but also as a perpetrator.

- Whatever you think you know about me,
it's not the whole story.

- Girl, your crime is showing.

- You've been stained.

- Poppy, we don't need that line.

What are you knitting, Cindy?

Oh, Indiana. That's nice.

Oliver Putnam,
the derelict theater director

who almost killed 12 people
with his last Broadway outing,

has a long paper trail of
Bunny hatred over the years.

Don't you?

Say it, forget it. Write it, regret it.

You lunatic.

- You wouldn't.

- Tune in weekly as our investigation
unfolds in real time.

I'm Cinda Canning.

- So we all heard that.

- I can't believe she's investigating us.

- And real time, too.

I mean, she's stealing our format.

We did invent that format, right?

- What, the format where we drop
a true crime podcast

before we even have a story,

an ending, or even a crime?

Yeah, that's all us.

- You know, Cinda Canning is very lucky

that my attorney passed away.
- I thought you said he was disbarred.

- This is no time for semantics, Charles!

She's stealing our format!

- Cinda doesn't even know
what happened that night.

- What did happen that night?

- It's all a blur.

Except...
- Except?

- I think Bunny said something.

Oh!

- 14...

14.

- 14?

What does that mean?

- Okay, people, we know
what we have to do.

We need to go full "OliMabel" here.

- What the fuck?
- What?

- OliMabel! That's our ship name.
All our names put into one.

- Where is the "Charles" in "OliMabel"?

- The Charles is silent.

Okay, so what we need to do

is break into Bunny's apartment.

- What?
- What?

- We slip in real quick,
we find a clue that isn't us,

and then Cinda has nothing!

- We can't be seen
breaking into Bunny's apartment!

Cinda finds that out, everything blows up.

- Yeah, well, our lives blow up
if we all go down for this.

And I sure as hell can kiss
Amy Schumer goodbye.

Schumer moved into Sting's place.
We're talking projects.

I-I'll tell you during the OliMabel.

- Okay, you know you're not using
that remotely correctly?

- It has gotten away from me, yes.

- And I can't lose Brazzos either.

- What?
- They're rebooting Brazzos.

- Charles! You're Brazzos again!
- Oh my god! That's fantastic!

- I am. Yeah, well, you know,
Uncle Brazzos.

Kind of a sexy Uncle Brazzos.

You know, they keep wanting
that beefcake thing from me.

And they have writers, multiple writers!

Not just some executive producer,

high on cocaine,
screaming dialogue into a tape recorder.

It's real.

- Mabel, don't you want to
clear your name, too?

- Look, what Cinda said wasn't wrong.

My whole life has been
defined by this crap.

Death.

Walking around blood.

I'd like to try and be an artist.

And last night, for a few minutes,

that felt maybe possible.

So, if it takes clearing my name

to feel that more

and finding who really did this--

Fuck off, Oliver.

Fuck off, Oliver.
- I'm sorry. I--

Fuck off.

- Is that Bunny?
- Are you hearing that, too?

Yeah.

BUNNY
Fuck off.

- No one has to see us breaking in.

Shit... How do I...

Just kick it!
Kick it!

Oh! Look at that.

Quiet!

Oh!

Ah!

Shh!

- Oh my god.

The last time I was in a space that small,

I'd had too many Cosmos in Vegas

and ended up on stage
with Penn and Teller.

You know, they were
about to saw me in half,

and m-my bladder was so full,
so I felt like an idiot, but I didn't--

- Okay, I really am good
with this story right now.

- Alright.
- Thank you! Me, too!

MABEL
Bunny?

Bunny?

Hello?

Get out.

- Go.

Get out!

- Bunny had a bird?

- Still?
- Still?

You knew she had a bird?

- Well, I mean, she got it decades ago

when birds were the hot pet,

before teacup pigs stole their mojo.

I just assumed it was dead.

- Yellow-headed amazon. Beautiful.

- Stuff it up your ass.

- Well, it's definitely
got Bunny's potty mouth.

- Mm-hmm.
- Kinda makes me miss her.

- Mrs. Gambolini.

Who's that.
- Oh, that's the bird.

Remember, Bunny was a freak.

So listen, listen.

Since we are here, why don't we
just split up and search around?

Keep your eyes open for anything
that resembles a note.

- Note?
- Well, notes.

I may have written a few
I'd like to retrieve.

Like, basically, how I wanted Bunny to die
when she was trying to evict us.

- Oh, smart. Real smart.

Because, you know, death threats
always work out really well.

- Okay, start scouring.
Any paper you find, put in this bag.

- I'll go in the bedroom.

Okay.
- Alright. Quickly, quickly.

- I got this.
- Anything, anything with my name on it...

Look at this.
Let's put this in here too.

Okay!

Oh...
- Shit!

Come on!

Charles! Charles!

Someone is coming!

- Bunny had a real eye for erotic art.

A lot of people didn't know that.

- I think it's Uma.
I'm not surprised.

Bunny was a fuckin' freak.

- And Howard.

This Rose Cooper painting that she has,

it's very porny.

A naked man wrapped around a woman's leg.

Very balls forward.

- Mm. Maybe I'll own one someday.

- Oh, fat chance. It's worth a fortune.

We need to wrap it up,

so I can take it to the appraiser.

It's in the bedroom here.
- They're coming this way!

- Come in here!

- I'm telling you,
this thing is one of a kind.

This could be worth a million...

There should be a naked man on this wall!

Where are the balls, Howard?

- I don't know.

- God, her Rose Cooper.

It was here the day before she died.

Where is it?

- Maybe we missed it out here?

- No, I don't think
we saw it out there, Howard!

It's worth a million dollars!

Guys.

Check this out.

- Bunny had a secret elevator?

Where does it go? Hell?
- Let's find out.

- Wait! It's freezing in here.

Okay.

- So someone stole
a valuable painting from Bunny?

- The killer?
- Uma said "porny."

Are we thinking full-frontal?
Bondage? Penetrada?

- Okay, where are we?

- Jesus, Bunny had a lot going on.

- Yeah. Still, that was way too close.

- But we got a huge clue.

We find the painting; we find the killer.

- Oh, that's a good line,
Charles. S-say that again.

- No, will you stop? There's no point--

- Just repeat the line!

It's a perfect ending for episode one.

- Oliver, I agreed
to check Bunny's apartment,

not podcast about it.
- Oh, so you'll just let

Cinda Canning tell the story
she wants to tell with no push-back?

- Look, we know she's going
to make a killer podcast

that makes us all look like killers.

- I'm gonna hate hearing
Cinda get it wrong.

And if she thinks it's us?

Me?

Do you still have that murder board?

- I do.

I mean, it's just a corkboard
on wheels but, yeah, I have it.

- Do you still have that boom mic?

- You bet your ass I do, kid.

Well, I don't, actually.
I returned it in the 30-day window

to get my deposit,
but I can get it back!

- New York City.

Who doesn't want to become
the talk of the town here?

I mean, make a name
for yourself in this city,

and it can feel like the most
sparkling place on Earth.

- We've been warned not to speak out

or speak our truth.

To just let others tell our story.

- But we here at
Only Murders In The Building...

we will not be going quietly.

Nailed it.

- Oh.

- Oh...

- Savage... Savage...

- I-I came home,
and it-it was just here.

Bunny's painting?

Someone's really fucking with us.

Charles...

Is that you?

- No.

It's my father.