Original subtitles

Play one of the best new FPS shooters, search Steam for PROJECT WARLOCK

Stop! Police!

Ah!

Don't move!

Hey! Sir, do not move!

Come off the ladder. Freeze.

NOPD! Come towards me!

Okay, okay, I...

♪ NCIS:New Orleans 1x09 ♪ Chasing Ghosts Original Air Date on November 25, 2014

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ How, how, how, how ♪

♪ Hey, hey ♪

♪ You gotta come on. ♪

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

So, you heading up north

to spend Thanksgiving with your folks?

Ah, I think I'm opting out

of the Stepford family dinner this year.

Parental gin and tonics at 11:00,

followed by ritualistic screaming and yelling at 11:30,

and tearful apologies by halftime.

I think I'm just gonna stay put

and whip up a batch of my chards for the potluck.

Chards-- as in greens?

Yeah.

Brody clan serves them as an appetizer.

Well, down here they're part of the main course.

Thank you.

And I'm the greens guy.

You sound intimidated.

Worried about a little competition?

King,

tell her about my collards.

Talk of the town. Well, if they're so special,

why don't you put a little green on your greens?

Oh, like a greens-off? Mm-hmm.

Oh, it's on like Donkey Kong.

So what's the number for dinner this year, six?

No, seven.

Laurel called.

She's bringing home some boy named Orion.

Orion like the constellation?

Or Metallica song? Poor Laurel. Hope to God

she doesn't really like this one.

Work.

Fill them in on our burglar.

We have multiple injuries

due to the height of the fall,

but the cause of death is likely cervical fractures.

Got two dislocations at C1 and C2.

NOPD tried to pull him over on a random traffic stop.

He led them on a wild-goose chase,

hoping to get away with that stolen loot.

Why you looking at us like that?

Waiting for the first question.

Navy or Marines? Neither.

He murk some seaman when he robbed him?

Nope, no direct military connection to our dead man.

Then why are we here?

That stolen gun

is Navy-issued.

So we find the owner and return it.

NOPD is cross-checking

robbery calls with the stolen loot

to lock down a location.

Filed off the serial number.

We'll have to get it to Sebastian,

see what he can give us.

I'm thinking about shaking things up

this year at the potluck,

maybe move away from my marshmallow Jell-O mold

and papaya-cantaloupe fruitcake.

So long as you approve, of course.

I was gonna suggest it

if you didn't make the change voluntarily.

Really?

I knew there were a lot of leftovers.

I just thought it was sort of a gluten, caloric,

too-much-of-a-good-thing kind of thing.

More of a...

papaya-cantaloupe fruitcake sort of thing.

So there are several techniques that can be used

to re-sequence obliterated serial numbers.

There's chemical etching, which is the most common,

going back to metallurgical examinations

in which etching solutions

were applied to cross sections of metal.

Then there's heating, which creates

a visible difference between the damaged

and undamaged regions of the substrate... Sebastian.

Today?

Sebastian, here's the powder

I pulled from the burglar's pants.

I was wondering if you could do an analysis.

Sure. Now, I, on the other hand,

decided to magnetize the gun and bombard it

with fine magnetized particles.

The particles fill in the gaps that are left

from indentations when someone files them off.

Which allowed me to recover the serial number,

run it through the Navy's database,

and bing-bang-boom,

your stolen Smith & Wesson

belongs to Chief Petty Officer Jacob Tarlow.

Can you get me

an address? Yeah.

Uh...

that's gonna be hard,

since Jacob was murdered 40 years ago.

This case...

was similar to the one that inspired

the movie Mississippi Burning.

Jacob Tarlow,

Jewish naval officer

who enlisted black recruits.

They lynched him for it.

Wait. Is this one of your...

Yes, my bedside file stack.

This is the original.

I-I'm sorry.

There's a-a bedside file stack?

The Wade Files.

You haven't told him? No, I didn't want

to burden young Sebastian

with that particular obsession,

but I have a stack of files,

unsolved cases,

that are my reading material on the nights I can't sleep.

The many nights she can't sleep.

This case, Jacob Tarlow,

was the first of those files.

I was a powerless

college intern in the coroner's office.

The coroner didn't even bother

to look at Jacob's body.

He ruled his death a suicide.

NOPD closed the case.

But wait, if he was hung,

how does a gun figure into the murder?

He had it on him before he was executed.

And it's always been speculated

that whoever murdered him...

Stole his gun.

The gun was never recovered.

Case went cold.

Now that it's resurfaced...

...maybe we could finally solve a 40-year-old murder.

Looking good.

You're a horrible liar.

Liver cancer.

If life's a marathon,

I'm basically at the finish line.

Still,

it's been a good run.

Hannah and I met at the time of Jacob's death.

And Miriam was about a month old.

Mm-hmm. I had two mothers

before it was, uh, all the rage.

Liked this one the moment I saw her face.

Even with the sadness

of becoming a widow at 19,

I knew Loretta Wade

was a keeper.

Oh, Agent Pride, this is, uh,

Jacob's brother Esau and Paul Hare,

close friend of Jacob's and mine for...

Close to forever.

Here's the medication.

I'll get you some water.

So,

you, um,

you found Jacob's gun.

Recovered as part of a likely robbery.

You said in the past that Jacob had his gun

the night he was murdered?

I saw it with him when he left the house.

He was pretty sure he'd meet up with resistance.

And he had it with him at the recruitment site?

We weren't there long

before the Confederate Brigade jumped us.

It was chaos.

Jacob and I were fighting off four,

five of those guys each.

Cops did show up, but they weren't much help.

Somehow, Jacob and I got separated.

I managed to make it back to my car.

I just rushed right over here

to make sure that he got back safely.

But Jacob never made it home.

Later that night, uh, we got a call from the police,

informing us that Jacob was dead.

When we went to claim Jacob's body,

this gun, his gun, was missing

from the holster.

We'd like to reopen the case.

We would need to reexamine

all of the evidence.

Including...

Jacob's body.

With the advancements in DNA technology,

we could find evidence

that helps solve the case.

Here, I'll help you.

You find who killed my husband.

Jacob Tarlow's gun.

We know where the burglar stole it from?

Nope.

We tracked the stolen items back to the Bywater.

So Brody and I went knocking on doors.

People laid claim to most of the stolen loot,

but no takers on Jacob's gun.

You really going with “loot”?

Well, what do you prefer?

Booty? Swag?

Perp prop?

What about Jacob Tarlow's NOPD case file.

Destroyed in Katrina.

But they did still have this.

That the rope Jacob was hung with?

Yeah.

We're gonna send it to Sebastian,

see if he can pull DNA.

All right,

prime suspects, what do we know about them?

Confederate Brigade

was a bastard offshoot of the KKK.

Black church and synagogue bombings,

race riots, you name it.

Loretta sent over Jacob's Navy journal.

It looks like the Brigade attacked him several times

prior to his death. We need to put faces

with this group.

I'll run the Confederate Brigade

with the FBI database.

See if we can get a pop on its members.

Lasalle here.

Speak.

1972 seems...

late for a lynching.

“Lynching”"

“Hate crime.”

Different names, same sentiment.

Discrimination didn't end with the Civil Rights Act.

Even when I became an agent,

opened up shop in the '80s,

some of my partners on the force

still held old-school beliefs.

Sebastian has some info on the powder

that he found on the burglar's pants.

Want us to head over there? Yeah.

And I'll head over to the cemetery with Loretta.

Hey, Laurel. Hey.

Hello, Laurel. Hey, Daddy.

Music major.

With honors, thank you very much.

Where's Orion? Oh, he's taking the bus in tonight.

I told him I would make sure it was safe to talk turkey.

Of course it's safe, though I'm headed out.

Oh, field trip. I'll ride with.

Persistent.

Wonder where I got that from.

All right, you stand back,

be quiet.

Oh...

rules say I can't take you in the official vehicle.

So we take the family car?

Orion.

That's quite a name.

Yeah, his major is economics,

but after he's done with school, he's talking about

getting his degree in La Science de la Pâtisserie.

Pastry chef?

No. Stop right now.

Before you even get started.

I am bringing him home on one condition.

What's that?

You cannot befriend my boyfriend.

You brought Barry to Jazz Fest,

Andrew and Chris still call you for advice,

and from what I understand,

you sent Kenneth a check to cover his rent last month?

Just till his scholarship came through.

Dad, we went on three dates two years ago.

He's a good guy.

This can't happen.

You meet them, you're nice to them,

they like you, and then it gets all weird.

Are they with me for me, or are they with me

because of super cool Agent Dwayne Pride?

Look, what do you want me to do?

Give them the Clint Eastwood stare

that your grandfather gave me

when I started dating your mother?

Just...

be a dad, you know?

A little aloof, a little standoffish.

And if you want to pretend

like you're being overprotective,

that's fine, too.

Just... no cooking together.

And... and none of that bromance stuff.

No bromance.

Thank you.

This case is the reason

I moved back to New Orleans permanently.

I was thinking about heading out West

after leaving Harvard,

but I couldn't shake the memory of being called

to cut Jacob down from the noose.

Coroner threw his body in a box,

brushed it off as a suicide.

Barely bothered to examine him.

“Southern trees bear a strange fruit.”

“Blood on the leaves and blood at the root”"

I said, “Loretta,

“you will never let another woman's man

just get thrown in a box.”

Agent Pride.

Officer Sullos. Nice to see you.

Not sure you're going to feel that way in a second.

You're gonna have to stop what you're doing here.

Why is that?

Court order-- to stop the exhumation

of Jacob Tarlow's body.

Who did this?

Name is sealed with the injunction.

Sorry, Pride. I'm just the messenger.

Wow. What smells so good?

Oh, my Italian kale.

Wait.

More greens?

Yeah. Loretta told me about the greens-off.

Since I recently discovered

that my fruitcake was not well received,

I thought I'd get in on the action.

Since she's the judge,

I decided to make an algorithm

based on all of her favorite spices.

Oh, man. This is totally out of hand.

Is that for your kale, too? No, that's, uh...

that's for the case, actually.

It's extract from the silt

found on the burglar's pant cuff.

It's lead.

Purest form of lead.

Only found in industrial plants and toxic waste dumps.

That's not your logical place

for stolen watches, jewelry and guns. Uh-uh.

You mind? No, go ahead.

If that purity of lead

were at a residence, there'd have to be

some kind of permit or... There you have it.

Citation belonging to New Orleans native Brick Myers.

Fined a few weeks ago.

FBI database says Brick Myers

was a founding member of the Confederate Brigade.

Criminal record as long as a bedsheet.

I'll get an address.

I'm calling Pride.

Brick Myers, NCIS.

Open up.

Looks like this is where Sticky Fingers made his entrance

to steal Jacob's gun.

Got a lot of buyers willing to pay top dollar...

What you got? Well, these

are custom loads, extra hot...

NCIS! Freeze!

Go!

Get off me, bitch!

Stop resisting.

Stop... resisting.

This has been...

a long time coming.

Gunrunning across state lines.

Manufacturing bootleg ammunition.

You're looking at 20 years minimum.

My people run Angola.

Going back will be a homecoming.

Chief Petty Officer Jacob Tarlow.

Some of your handiwork.

Eyewitnesses said

you beat him to a pulp hours before his death.

He started it.

I went to talk to him at the recruiting station.

A friendly “Hello. How are you?”

He spit in my face.

He called me names.

I was defending myself.

A few punches were thrown, then we went our separate ways.

If that's the case,

then why was Jacob's gun, taken off his dead body,

stolen from your house two days ago?

Whoa, that was the Jew's gun?

Yes. Damn, small world.

Look, if I would have killed Tarlow,

I'd have taken full credit for it.

The gun was simply

a souvenir of the time.

I bought it off some cop

a couple months after Tarlow's...

suicide.

And who would that cop be?

The brothers in the Brigade called him T-Bone.

Man, you would be surprised

some of the friends we used to have

in very high places.

Brick is lying scum.

Yes on the scum.

Don't be so sure of the lying.

Cozy relationships between police and hate groups

was not uncommon back then.

If a police officer did sell Jacob's gun to Brick,

it might explain why there wasn't

an investigation into his murder.

Police cover-up suggested

by a very unreliable source.

Got to run everything down.

All right, Christopher...

got the injunction hearing switched over to Judge McCruter.

Take Brody with you.

Show her how you use your...

'Bama charm to sway the judicial process.

Where you going, King?

Apparently, I got a hot date with a dummy.

Unfortunately, deterioration from environmental conditions

prevented me from pulling any kind of DNA, but...

I matched the gauge of the rope

and the height of the tree branch

to reenact the murder

using my trusty assistant LASMAN here.

First, the, uh, torque

that caused rope fraying on both

the front and the back of the tree branch

indicates that Jacob's hangman was hoisting him alone.

You add to that the height

at which the rope was tied off,

which I deduced from the photograph here,

and I was able to calculate

the size of Jacob's killer, given the average height

and wingspan of adult males living at the time.

What do we got?

Murderer stood between

five-foot-six and five-foot-eight in height.

Brick's six-two at least.

So it's not Brick Myers.

And we're back where I've been for 40 years?

Nowhere.

Loretta...

I need access to Jacob Tarlow's body, Dwayne.

We're trying to get the injunction lifted.

It takes time.

Something Hannah hasn't got much of.

I spoke to her family today.

Hannah's taken a turn for the worse.

The stress of the case taking its toll.

I made her a promise, Dwayne.

I've gone over this case...

I know.

Okay, I've read Jacob's journals.

I've searched my brain to see if there's

anything I could have missed.

I was 20.

I wore skirts that scarcely covered my thighs,

and bikini tops-- if I wore any tops at all.

Jacob Tarlow's blood sacrifice

was during a time when there were protests.

Average citizens were being monitored by the FBI.

I bet there are photos.

If there were, I wouldn't show you any of them.

Not photos of you.

“Average citizens

being monitored by the FBI.”

COINTELPRO?

FBI followed a lot of different groups back then.

Maybe even...

The Confederate Brigade.

You've pulled me out of the abyss 1,000 times, Loretta.

My turn now.

Fennel seeds.

I can't believe you don't know

anything about cooking.

It's pretty depressing.

I'm just... real bad.

Daddy!

Uh, this is Orion.

Nice to meet you, Mr. Pride.

Nice to meet you as well.

Uh, thanks for opening your kitchen...

letting me

brine the turkey. Yeah.

Yeah, uh, whatever.

Laurel tells me you love to cook,

so I knew you'd appreciate these.

Cumin, fennel seed

and cinnamon.

Why cinnamon? Daddy...

It's for the fungiform papillae.

The fungiform papillae? Mm-hmm.

Taste buds at the front of your tongue.

Uh-huh.

You get the savory right away,

as long as you don't, uh...

Don't dry it out.

Yeah. Of course not.

The juices stimulate

the fungiform papillae... Mm-hmm.

...which are then awakened to the cinnamon,

and you get this...

Sweet aftertaste.

Exactly. Yeah.

Yeah.

There's a whole science to it,

but when I talk food shop with Laurel,

she just kind of stares at me.

Like that?

Exactly.

- Mmm. - Pride?

We got a hold of the classified COINTELPRO files on the Brigade.

We're set up in SCIF.

Guess I should, uh,

go take a look.

Why don't you do that?

FBI's surveillance pictures of the Confederate Brigade,

collected from the Counterintelligence Office.

Three cheers for domestic spying.

They managed to capture quite a few Hallmark moments

outside their primary hangout.

The Dixie Bootleg.

Rural juke joint I helped shut down

for running moonshine back in '81.

We uploaded several photos onto our system,

and so far, this is what we got from the analysis.

I found three members of law enforcement who hung out

with the Brigade on a regular basis.

One of them could be T-Bone.

Sebastian said

that Jacob's killer

was between five-six and five-eight.

That rules out these two.

Height analysis on this officer

is five foot, seven inches.

Sweet spot for Jacob's murderer.

Run an age progression, Christopher.

Age progression...

coming up.

40 years later.

You recognize him?

Why, yes, I do.

Tom Hamilton, Councilman Hamilton's father.

And the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

Dwayne Pride,

as I live and breathe.

Need to talk, Tom.

Well, it's probably as good a time as any, I suppose.

Don't you think, Dougie?

What, you-you here to ruin my fishing trip?

Huh? I'm here...

to speak to your father

about his involvement

in the murder of Jacob Tarlow.

I'll tell you...

I mean, you... you're just so desperate to get to me,

that you'll make up some cockamamie story

about my father and some old murder.

Name Brick Myers sound familiar?

Can't say that it does.

He I.D.'d you as selling him a dead man's gun...

T-Bone.

T-Bone...

No, no, isn't that a-a cut of meat?

It's also, apparently, your father's nickname.

All right, Daddy, you do not

have to answer to this Keystone Cop.

Stand down, Dougie.

Chief Petty Officer Jacob Tarlow.

Remember him?

I tuned up

a lot of criminals in my day.

He wasn't a criminal. He was a highly decorated

Navy Chief Petty Officer

that you took an extra liking to.

Eight unlawful arrests

in six months.

Establishing a pattern of-of harassment is good,

but what you need is for me to admit

that he got tired of my harassing him and he fought back.

And I lost control, and I strung him up.

Sounds like a confession to me.

Maybe a... tall tale

from a feeble, senile old man.

I gotta go to the restroom.

Uh...

Well, that was a pathetic ploy,

even for you, Dwayne.

What's pathetic

is you filing for an injunction

to stop the exhumation

of Jacob Tarlow to protect your father.

First:

Keep coming after my father,

and I will make things very uncomfortable

for you in this city. And second:

You don't know that that injunction is me.

I don't have to know. Judge will.

And if your name is on it,

I will suggest you be charged

with accessory to murder after the fact.

Judge is expecting your call.

Checked with Tom Hamilton's old precinct

to see if he was on duty the night of Jacob's murder.

The logs were lost in a fire.

So, how about this?

Go to the family,

see if anyone can put Tom Hamilton at the fight

on the night of Jacob Tarlow's death.

You got it, King.

Now I can really get to work.

After all these years,

I wasn't sure there'd be something to go on.

But when the dead have something to say,

not even time will shut them up.

Normally, in a hanging,

one would expect broken bones in the neck.

It's due to asphyxial resistance.

You mean when someone struggles as they're being choked?

Exactly.

Jacob lacked fractures along the vertebrae,

which means his body was relaxed.

It's like a-a drunk driver avoids injury

after passing out at the wheel. Jacob wasn't conscious?

I believe he was dead before he was hung,

and my supposition is reinforced by...

...a depressed fracture, like this one.

Caused by an extreme blunt force

at the point of impact.

And the tool of attack often causes an indentation

in the shape of the object used.

I'll give you three guesses--

first two don't count.

His gun.

Tom Hamilton encounters Tarlow,

there's some sort of an incident,

Hamilton gets a hold of Tarlow's gun...

And uses the blunt weapon to kill Jacob.

Hangs him to cover up what he's done.

And then, maybe as insurance,

sells the gun to Brick,

so that, should it ever be found...

All signs point towards the Brigade and the lynching.

Have I ever told you

how high I get from tracking down the truth?

Thank you, Dwayne.

Thank me when I tie Tom Hamilton to the gun.

Because of Loretta's discovery,

I stopped looking at the gun ballistically

and examined it materially,

from a blunt-force trauma perspective.

So, to raise this serological Titanic,

I had to use a technique I perfected,

called the “Jellyfish Effect”"

Some jellyfish are incandescent under black lights,

kind of like nature's glow sticks.

And this here...

Spices for my greens. No touchy.

So I placed Jacob's gun

inside this sterile fish tank

with a luminol vaporizer attached to the side.

Is that blood, glowing in the dark?

It is.

I cross-checked it with Jacob's DNA.

It's not a match, so most likely

the killer cut himself on the trigger

when he hit Jacob over the head.

Leaving blood spatter

inside Jacob's gun.

Tom Hamilton's DNA...

Is not on file anywhere.

I'll need a sample to get a conclusive result.

Coast Guard's on standby.

They'll confirm Tom Hamilton's whereabouts

as soon as he returns to port.

I don't want to lose him.

Make sure he's not fleeing.

Hey.

Where's Orion? I sent him home.

I told you I wasn't sure how I felt about him

and I didn't want this to become a big deal.

And all of a sudden, it's “your dad” this

and “your dad” that.

What was I supposed to do?

You were supposed to stay away.

You invited him. It's Thanksgiving.

Well, clearly, that was a mistake.

Hey, King.

We got a 20 on Tom Hamilton.

We'll talk later?

Blood or urine?

Just a simple swab from your cheek,

and I'm on my way.

You don't have a warrant. Innocent men

don't need warrants to clear their name.

No one calls me “innocent,” but I'm innocent of this.

Then why fight it?

'Cause that's what my family

has always done when it concerns you and your family.

You should respect that.

After all,

if your father Cassius

had fought a little harder,

he wouldn't be sharing an 11-by-seven-foot cell.

So, go get your warrant, and when you come back,

I'll give you a specimen

and tell you some stories about old man Pride

that'll make your head spin.

Make sure this boat doesn't leave the city,

headed for international waters.

We all know how you Hamiltons like to evade arrest.

Look, Dwayne.

My father is a violent, drunk, racist son of a bitch.

But I do not believe that he's capable of murder.

Why risk letting a woman die without knowing the truth

about what happened to her husband?

Because sons protect their fathers.

That's what they do.

Not all sons.

I didn't choose to live with the doubt

of who my father really was.

You got an opportunity to learn the truth.

So I'm running the hair from the brush

Councilman Hamilton took from his father

against the blood that we found inside of Jacob's gun.

The results should be coming up here

in three, two, one...

It's not a match.

So, Tom Hamilton's not the killer?

It seems that having hateful views

doesn't necessarily make you a liar.

All these years, I've been looking at this case

from the same point of view.

That the racists must be hiding something.

Now we know

Brick Myers-- too tall.

Tom Hamilton's blood doesn't match.

So...

what if they are telling the truth

and it's the journal

that's been lying all along?

What's this?

Jacob Tarlow's last entry

after the fight with the Brigade.

Everything in it suggests that Jacob's death is related

to what happened that day.

But maybe the journal is a cover.

And the people he should've been afraid of

were much closer.

Who had access to the journal

between the time Jacob died

and when the coroner's office first saw it?

His brother Esau.

And his best friend Paul.

Sometimes

hate has nothing to do with color.

Tell me things.

The medical company that ships Hannah's medication

faxed over their signature logs.

Paul and Esau have signed

for Hannah's prescription in the last six months.

Do you have...? Jacob's journal?

Yes. Thank you.

We will scan it and compare

Jacob's last entry

to Esau and Paul's handwriting from the signature logs.

Where are Paul and Esau now?

Headed to Hannah's.

We told them to gather everyone to give them an update.

It's okay.

I'll get it.

Hi.

Hi. Come on in.

Hey, Paul. Come over here for a second.

You know who Jacob's killer is?

We think we do.

Paul?

Why?

High-stakes gamble.

Relying on the cesspool of hate

to cover up the murder of your best friend.

Jacob's Navy journal.

And the writing is an exact match

to when you signed for Hannah's medication.

Like your DNA

will match the blood found on the inside of Jacob's gun.

Must have been hard.

With Hannah leaning on you all these years

but never accepting your hand in marriage.

Miriam told us... that you proposed

to Hannah several times after Jacob's death.

But she never did say yes.

Leaving you to live in the shadows.

Yeah, we-we had one night together.

Right before they were engaged.

And I told Hannah that she had

to choose between me and Jacob.

But she said we were a mistake.

She made me swear never to say a thing.

But after what happened with the Brigade...

after...

escaping with our lives...

I had to tell Jacob.

I told him that Hannah and I were meant to be together.

Not him and her.

And then things just, uh, got out of hand.

It was an accident.

Swear.

Accident or not... still murder.

Now we know the truth.

How you gonna sleep tonight?

Like a baby.

My father was trying to get home to my mother.

Oh, and to you, too.

And to me.

The Secretary of the Navy is ordering Paul

back to active duty to face

murder charges at court martial.

Thank you.

But I'd rather not ever think of Paul Hare again.

I made... one mistake,

and it deprived me of so much.

I miss Jacob's laugh.

I look forward to being with him again.

Sometimes you don't want it to be a big deal.

But it is.

And sometimes...

...you say you're not sure how you feel

when you know exactly.

It's so intense it terrifies you.

I really like him.

I know.

And I sent him away.

You did.

And I screwed up.

Big-time.

And sometimes

it's not such a terrible thing

when your father has a bromance with your boyfriend.

Oh, hang on. A little eyelash.

Mm-hmm.

Hey.

Hey.

Pie's ready.

Pie's here.

Hi. Hey, Loretta!

You ready to give the greens championship trophy

to yours truly? Oh!

Now is not the time for competition.

It's the season of thankfulness.

Okay, y'all.

Listen, listen, everyone.

Let me just say, you know,

it has been an interesting last few days.

A 40-year-old murder

reminds me how much the world has changed.

With work still to be done.

But tonight...

we're here to break bread together

and remember

that love done right

can change the world.

Amen.

Amen.

Cheers.

Cheers, guys. Cheers to that.

Yeah!

Orion?

Yes, sir?

Would you care to do the honors?

Big man on campus now.

Wow. Thank you. That's right.

You got this. Oh, my word.

I remember what you did to the bird last year.

Oh!

All right, somebody pass me the greens!

Oh, here you go. Here's the winner.

== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man

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