All language subtitles for iZombie.S04E08.1080p.WEB.H264-DEFLATE.HI

[Liv] Previously on iZombie...

You'’re supposed to
feed these people.

There'’s a brain shortage
out there.

We'’ve heard rumors
that our own men

are skimming brains
and selling them
on the black market.

There'’s one name I know.

Russ Roche.

My cut, hand it over.

I want you to buddy up
to him.

Renegade'’s operation turns
more humans into zombies

than all other coyote
outfits combined.

You can'’t save the Railroad.

I can take Mama'’s place.

I'’m willing to do
the scratching.

People are dying out there
beyond the wall,

but we have a chance
to save them.

What the hell are you doing?

Did you hear Fillmore-Graves
shut down the 206 Weekly?

-Uh-uh.
-Yeah, the soldiers
who went down there

shot up the place.

Scared the hell
out of everyone.

I'’m not surprised.

Major was the ranking officer.

I was at Fillmore-Graves
last night.

Chase Graves turned to Major
and said, "Did you guys
really do this?"

Major flat-out lied.

[sighs]

Fillmore-Graves is The Borg.

I don'’t know what that means.

Keep dating Ravi, you will.

Speaking of Major...

I'’d appreciate it
if you wouldn'’t...

tell him or Ravi about,
you know...

Human smuggling?

[sighs]

So, listen, um...

I'’ve been up all night
thinking about that question
you asked me.

If I could help
those dying people, would I,
and you'’re right, I would.

I understand why you'’re doing
what you'’re doing and I...

respect your decision.

Thank you.

Which is why I wanna be
a part of it.

No. [Chuckles]

No, I am not letting you
risk your life.

Hey.

Why is it good for you,
but not for me?

- [cell phone chimes]
- Body. Gotta go.

That'’s yours.

Obviously, I can'’t
scratch people,

but there must be some way
for me to be helpful.

Do you have giant stacks
of cash stashed somewhere?

Because that'’s one of
our biggest problems right now.

Lack of resources.

[lock clicks]

[door closes]

'’Bout damn time you showed up.

I'’ve been writing to
the mayor'’s office
for over a year.

We don'’t normally grant favors
to people

who work for notorious
criminal syndicates.

I played ball.

I gave you what you wanted.
You owe me.

You didn'’t give us
everything we wanted.

There is no money.
That'’s a myth!

Well, shoot.
This was a waste of my time.

Okay, no, wait. Wait.

What if I told you
there was a pot of gold?

I'’d say I already know that.
That'’s why I'm here.

There'’s a bus that's
transporting prisoners to
the state pen in Walla Walla.

State pen is worse.

Drop you off
at Moses Lake Correctional.
White collar prison.

Plus, your family'’s
all outside the wall, right?

Just think of visiting day.

You dirty girl.

Where'’s the money, Casper?

[theme music playing]

[indistinct police chatter]

Are you sure
someone'’s in there?

The pool of blood
suggests there is.

You didn'’t open it up yet?

I was waiting for you guys.

Someone'’s in there.

A jogger found the body
this morning.

No witnesses, no ID,
no clue how the body
got there.

Time-travel murder.

Perhaps the impaled knight
stepped out of the TARDIS
seconds before his death.

What the hell'’s a TARDIS?

Something nerdy.

It'’s the space-time vessel
from Doctor Who.

Looks like a police box.

Bigger on the inside?

I was hoping for an answer
based more in reality.

Well, I'’m sure you'll find one.

Once the zombie
medical examiner eats
the victim'’s brain.

Anybody bring a can-opener?

Yeah, uh, not to be that guy,
uh, but it is a lunch "hour."

Look at this.

It'’s like he was wearing a car.

I identified our victim.

He was a medieval history
professor named Garrett Drexel.

According to his parents,
in his spare time, he did
something called "larpering."

The parents didn'’t know
much about it,

but it sounded
in your wheelhouse, so...

It'’s actually called LARPing
and it stands for
"Live Action Role-Playing."

So it'’s like a sex thing?

What? No.

No, it'’s like D&D,

but the players
physically act out
their character'’s actions,

sometimes participating
in elaborate mock-battles

- and epic story lines.
- [in English accent] Fear not!

I have slain the rodent foul.

No more will his pestilent
droppings threaten the purity
of our tools and provisions

and our boxes of cardboard
will forevermore
go un-gnawed.

I think she killed
the storage closet mouse.

'’Twas a noble death.
And quick.

What say you, My Lord?

Have you news of our quest?

I'’m not your lord.

Thou art a most
sovereign leader tasked
with protecting our kingdom.

Thoust may be free
of royal blood,

but a purer heart
I'’ve not yet known.

And on my honor,
I will serve at thy side.

It is my most solemn vow.

- Can you get up, please?
- Yes, My Lord.

And stop calling me "My Lord."

Yes, my liege.

Your Grace.

So Garrett'’s parents
gave me the name
of his LARPing group,

The Guardians of Bonestorm,
and the place they hang.

That seems like
the best place to start.

If they are acting out battles,
that could be how Garrett
got himself skewered.

To Earth'’s end and back,
I will follow thee.

Okay, then, um...
Let'’s go.

LARPing, huh?

The thing that bugs me
about D&D is
you'’re just sitting.

If there was a more physical
version, with badass armor...

That could be cool.

[people laughing]

Fie, squire!

One must consume
an onion bloom
from the inside-out.

Seriously, though, dude,
you'’re just picking off
all the crispy stuff!

Definitely not cool.
Not cool at all.

I suppose we gotta talk to '’em.

Fear not, My Lord,
for both my sword
and my life are yours.

You don'’t have a sword.
Or a life,
if we'’re being technical.

I am Olivia of Seattle.

Examiner of the exanimate.

Vision-haver for the guard.
Zombie of the festive vessel.

My Lord asks
that you lend an ear

and I ask that you make haste
and gather round,

for his will is
my most sacred destiny.

[sighs] Detective Babineaux,
Seattle PD, Homicide.

Normal talker.

Tell us about Garrett Drexel.

We learned he is
a member of your group.

So, he'’s done it.

Sir Garrett has slain
the Great Wizard of Thrall.

- Cheers.
- [Clive] Uh, no.

Garrett was found dead
this morning.

- [man] Can'’t believe he was...
- Verily?

Aye.

Alas. Alack. A shocker.

He was much beloved.

Someone stuck
a sword through him
and left him for dead.

Wait, you don'’t think
it was us?

You know these swords
are totally foam, right?

Yeah, plus we all
worshiped Garrett.

When was the last time
you saw him?

He left the group
after the wall went up.

Didn'’t seem like a good idea
for humans and zombies
to fight together,

so Garrett and his friend
Magnus left with
the other zombies

to start their own
zombie LARPing league.

- But Garrett wasn'’t a zombie.
- Of course he was.

He was human.

Mmm...

'’Tis true, noble sir.
Undead, he was not.

[man] That doesn'’t
make any sense.
How could that be?

♪ Sir Garrett is
now underground ♪

♪ He should have run away...

- Shut it, Chuck!
- [music stops]

Your Grace, if Sir Garrett
did doth portray himself
falsely a zombie

whilst in battle with zombies,
who, believing him kindred,
fought without care,

'’tis on Garrett's own shoulder
the fault doth lay,
does it not?

That'’s what I was thinking,
but in a less annoying way.

Mmm.

Sharing a meal
as father and son,
I did miss this.

You missed decades of them.

I'’m fairly certain this is
our seventh meal together.

This is
a fine establishment, son.

You'’ve done well.

I wanted to give zombies
a true fine-dining experience.

[zombies grunting]

Enough!

[gulps]

You'’re rushing through
a sacrament.

I want each of you
to take one bite
using a fork.

For God has given us
the tools we need, my friends.

One bite.

There. Now,
hold it in your mouth...

And let the divine flavors
linger on your tongue

until your mouth
fills with glory.

Savor it. Savor it.

Now swallow.

[all swallow]

[all] Mmm.

And repeat.

[indistinct chatter]

Swallowing on command.

That'’s a power
that I should never
be entrusted with.

Trust is a must
but turns to dust

when bellies begin to growl.

My church is
in desperate need of brains.

I was hoping you could spare
some more for the cause.

Can I sleep on it?

The Lord will provide.

I was trapped
in a well, son.

And the Lord
made it rain brains,

can you believe it?

Surely a remedy
will come your way.

Scalpel, please.

[in English accent] Stormrose,
Warblade of the Fallen
or Lightbringer?

Maybe I'’ll just take
the bonesaw.

Oh.

The Spineripper.
A choice most excellent.

[cell phone vibrates]

-Good morrow.
-[Isobel] Hi, um, I'’m supposed
to be coming to see you.

My name is Isobel.

Thoust timing is poor, child.
I shall call anon...

Please, I'’m in this motel
in Yakima, my coyote left
for coffee eight hours ago.

- I'’m totally freaking out.
- [Liv] Indeed, uh...

Yea, '’tis true.

Let us discuss whilst I procure
much-needed gauze
for my warted toe.

Fear not, young friend.

Your good coyote shall be back.
Perhaps he think a malefactor
doth tail him.

I guess you need
to talk in code or something,

but you'’re not helping.
I'’m going crazy here.

Fear not, lass,
for I make thee
promises three.

Your good coyote shall return.

You shall arrive
safely in Seattle.

And with a scratch
of my own nail,
your life I shall save.

This is my most solemn vow.

Is there someone else
I can talk to?

- [man over phone] Isobel.
- [door closes]

[Isobel] Wait, he'’s back. Oh, my God, thank you so much.

Bye.

Thus, true promises remain.

[Clive] Let me guess.

You slayed a beastly arachnid.

I say thee nay.

For she was taking a phone call
most whispery.

Perhaps about a certain
upcoming noble birthday?

[clicks tongue]
Thoust foolest me not.

What news has thou?

A location for Magnus, I think.

Garrett received a text
every Friday with a time
and address

and a, "Try and make it."

It was always signed "M."

Magnus!

The address is for a warehouse
on the edge of the city.

I'’m guessing that's where
the zombie LARPers meet.

If you'’re free at midnight...

Not free, My Lord,
but bound by honor

to stand between
My Lord and danger.

Yeah, okay.

What'’s with the half-dollars?

I let her have that one.

It was either that or let her
stuff the chest cavity
with hay.

[country music playing]

You like to party,
don'’t you, boy?

[chuckles] Does Dolly Parton
sleep on her back?

- [chuckles]
- Oh. But, Russ.

I can'’t afford all of this.

You keep spottin'’ me,
it ain'’t right.

Hey, you ever need a few more
coins in your pocket,
you just tell me.

I'’m so dadgone broke, partner,
I'’d do anything.

[Don E.] Hey.

Stop requesting songs
about tractors and cold beers.

You'’re makin' everybody wish
they were more dead.

I'’m just treating
my partner here
to a night on the town.

Shoot, I'’d have been knocked
into a cocked hat

if it weren'’t for
this buckaroo'’s loyalty.

Skittles. We'’re a pack
of wolves, ain'’t we?
We stick together.

[both howling]

[announcer] Show your tatas to The Butcher of Bourbon Street.

This man'’ll rip off your skull
and vomit hurricanes

- down your windpipe.
- Every man wants to be me.

Every woman wants
to be with me.

- Whoo!
- [crowd cheering]

[announcer] And now,
the moment you'’ve all
been waiting for,

the founder
of the Zombie Thunderdome,

six feet two inches
of ferocity, 230 pounds of piss and vinegar,

the massive, the mighty,
Magnus the Necromaimer!

- [crowd cheering and clapping]
- [rock music playing]

Now this is an entrance.

Verily.

That'’s our guy.

[cheering continues]

Come on!

Yeah! Whoo!

Who wants blood?

Who wants grievous injury?

Reckon I oughta shake the snake
before it starts.

Don'’t fall in, partner.

Who wants to see me turn
this chump steak
into ground beef?

How'’s he gonna be a butcher
when I slice his arms off?

Of course, who doesn'’t mind
getting wet

- with the Butcher'’s blood?
- [inaudible]

[both grunting]

Ooh!

[grunting continues]

There is no honor in this?

No, probably not.

[both grunting]

Ooh!

[crowd] Oh!

[indistinct whispering]

Who are you?

Detective Babineaux,
Seattle PD.

I'’d like to talk to you
about Garrett Drexel.

Yeah, now'’s when I bask
in the glow of victory,
so bugger off.

Well, that isn'’t really
an option here.

Oh, it'’s not?

You looking to get
knocked on your ass, too?

If My Lord seeks an audience,

it would serve you well
to make time.

Okay. Let'’s talk
Garrett Drexel.

- [Clive] He'’s dead.
- How?

A sword right
through his belly.

- But he was...
- Garrett was human.

They call me Liv,
the medical examiner.

I examined the body myself,
no zombie was he.

Uh, sit.

Please.

Yeah, on the...

[throne creaking]

Why would, uh, Garrett
pretend to be a zombie?

It kind of makes sense
when I think about it.

Yeah, Garrett was super pumped

when he realized that
zombies would be fighting
with real swords.

But you saw
a business opportunity.

Sure did.

I knew right away that people
would pay money to see zombies
make each other bleed.

So I broke away from
the zombie LARPers
and started Zombie Thunderdome.

Do you know where we could
find the zombie LARPing group?

Yeah, I have their schedule
in my phone somewhere.

His group is called
The Shadow Exiles.

[cell phone vibrates]

Any day hence.

God, I wanna make you
break character.

Oh, here it is.

Looks like they don'’t
fight again for another month.

But, uh, they should be
at the league rules
meeting tomorrow.

-Where?
-[in English accent]
Ye Olde Microbrewery.

I'’m the bouncer.

I'’ll wait in the car.

His maiden is a zombie
and alas, he is not.

'’Tis a cruel world.

[sighs]

Is this how it'’s gonna be?

Everyone'’s asked me
why you'’re moping around today.

You didn'’t really expect me
to be happy today, did you?

No.

But we were up until 4:30
talking about this,

- and I felt like we were okay.
- We are.

See, I knew this was coming
down the pike, but...

It hurts.

But we'’re still us.

We'’re good.
It'’s just medicinal.

Like it was for you.

Somehow, that doesn'’t help.

Cowboy brains
are permanently 86ed,

which is weird,
'’cause I'd think cowboys
are to hookers as...

- Astronauts are to Tang?
- Exactly!

I hear "cowboy,"
I think Deadwood.

But Blaine, there was no
dead wood.

These cowpokes didn'’t want
no pokes.

Here'’s where we went wrong.

Look at the fine print.

"Professional Born-Again
Riders of America."

"We tell the devil
to buck off"?

What is this, six-point type?

Where do we stand
on new muscle?

It'’s handled. I already
hired Carl.

Crybaby Carl.

I would rather
put a volleyball
on Dino'’s body.

It'’s a medical
condition, Blaine,

the guy'’s got
faulty tear ducts.

He'’s actually a sociopath
in a good way.

So who do I have to bang
to get a hot toddy?

So, what brings you
to our fair, walled-in city?

Cobain museum?
The fish market? The coffee?

I'’ve been keeping tabs
on my former money launderer,

Casper Cotter,
while he'’s in prison.

He has a major stash
of my money hidden
away somewhere,

and I'’ve been eager
to find out where it is.

I'’ve tried getting to him
on the inside

but this schmuck
hides in solitary.

I haven'’t been able
to get to him.

And that'’s where you come in.

I do?

A little bird tells me
the state pen has agreed

to take 20 of Seattle'’s
worst criminals.

They'’re bussing then down
to Walla Walla

and for some reason,
candy-ass Casper
is gonna be on that bus.

We'’re gonna break him out
and get my money back.

Out of a prison
transport bus?

We'’ll go halfsies
on the cash, of course.

Not thirdsies?

So, after the three of us
take down this prison bus,

how about we go
to the backyard and dig
a hole to China?

What'’s the problem, Blaine?

I can'’t commandeer
a prison bus

full of convicts
and armed guards.

I don'’t have
that kind of manpower.

You call yourself a crime boss?

You should have an army
of nameless, faceless,
yes men

who are too stupid
to do anything
but listen to you.

- Blaine, what about...
- Wait.

We don'’t have an army
full of stupid, nameless,
faceless yes men.

But we know someone who does.

[whispers] Brother Love.

That'’s right, Don E.,

Brother Love.

[Angus] The lord spoke to you

about a prison transport bus?

Not directly.

I was trying to solve
your brain shortage problem

and I reached a point
where I'’d feared I'd fail you.

And in that
desperate moment,

I humbled myself
and I said, "God."

Not... Not out loud,
more with my heart.

[stammers] There is no right
or wrong way.

Well, I said, "God, please,
show me a sign."

And in that moment,

hand to the man upstairs,

is when my phone rang
and my buddy tells me
about the bus.

I felt the holy spirit move me.

I didn'’t even know
whose number I was dialing.

When Blaine answered, I said,
"Of course, it had
to be Blaine."

There will be guards and guns.

I fear I'’d be leading
my flock to slaughter.

We'’ll take 'em by surprise.
They won'’t even see us coming.

The authorities
will come after us.

We'’re not strong enough yet.

No one will raise a finger.

You see, these are wicked men.

And giving their brains
to needy zombies

will be the one good thing
they do with their
miserable lives.

[Major] Yo, Russ!

Wanna win some more
money off me?

I'’m feeling unlucky.

No. I don'’t think so.

Everything okay?

Last night.

What were you telling that cop?

Cop? I didn'’t talk to a cop.

I saw it, bro.

The blonde zombie
that works with the police.

She'’s a medical examiner,
I think.

Look, man. I just saw
a pretty girl and was
chatting her up.

Any luck?

Nope.

Yeah.
So, you free
to meet up tonight?

-Sure.
-Still eager to make
some extra money?

- You know it.
- Cool.

-I'’ll text you the address.
We can meet there.
-All right.

And what we'’re doing,

- it'’s not exactly legal.
- I ain'’t dumb, son.

[coughs]

Thank you.

Good morrow.

Uh, hi.

It was a bit of a rough trip
but this is Beth
and that'’s Geo.

- [baby cooing]
- Guys, this is Renegade.

'’Tis an honor, fair lady,

to return thine most noble soul
from the edge of the abyss.

Renegade, maybe let'’s just cut
to the scratch.

It was a long trip
in the trunk.

Beth of Columbus,

I welcome you
to the brotherhood of zombies.

Live undead with a true heart,

and do naught but good.

[Beth exhales]

I feel new. Strong.

I don'’t know how to thank you.

-[baby cooing]
-We don'’t know
how to thank you.

'’Tis a gift
we received equally, m'’lady.

Geo of the Bay Area,

I welcome you into
the brotherhood of zombies.

Live undead with a true heart

and do naught but good.

[breathing shakily]

So, I'’m gonna cry.

I... I didn'’t think
that would happen.

I'’m really grateful.

There was supposed
to be a third.

Lady Isobel. I made a vow.

Yeah.
Isobel hasn'’t arrived yet.

She should be here by now.

With which coyote doth
she travel?

It'’s the new guy. Curtis.

[shotgun fires]

[tires screeching]

Ready to get your hands dirty?

Born ready.

Let'’s go pay
some folks a visit.

I think we need to readjust
the brain to gelatin ratio.
It'’s all spilling out.

No, you gotta fold the top
over before you
staple it, idiot.

[warehouse door opens]

[man] No, man.
These are our tubes.

We bought them.
We'’re just repackaging them.

[breathing rapidly] Please! No!

[Russ] Nice.

I should probably
make an example out of you,
don'’t you think?

- No.
- No?

What do you think, Major?
Waste him?

Call it.

Heads we waste him!

Tails.

[breathing shakily]

And there won'’t be a next time,
will there?

[weakly] No.

Put those axes to use, boys.

Liv, my love.
Can I get your number?

Where are the zombie LARPers
we seek?

There the heroes be.

Hoisting half-pints
of low-carb lager.

My liege. Shall we?

You are Sir Clive Babineaux.

Zombie slayer.
Survivor of the pits
of Max Rager.

Cracker of suspects

and daydream lover of the women
of Precinct Nine.
Forget it not.

Yay. Verily.

Thanks, Liv.
I'’ll pull my head out.

[Clive] You the Shadow Exiles?

Clive Babineaux, Seattle PD.
Homicide.

I take it you know
why I'’m here.

It'’s about Garrett, isn't it?

Yes. Garrett.

The guy you left for dead
out in the park.

We thought he was a zombie.
Like us. And...

We understand it was a secret
that Garrett was human.

Just tell us exactly
what happened.

We'’ve been acting out
Arthurian legends for the last
couple of months.

Garrett was the best fighter,
so, of course,
he was Lancelot.

When that sword
went through him,
Garrett bled like a stuck pig.

We were all standing there,
dumbstruck.

It made no sense for a zombie
to bleed like that.

Before we could even figure out
what was happening,
Garrett was dead.

It... It happened so fast.
No one knew what to do.
We all just panicked.

No one knew if what
we were doing was legal.

It'’s true we all panicked.

But I was the one who struck
the fatal blow.

Then you must be Arthur.

In one life.
In the other, I'’m known
as Kevin Kreeger.

It was an accident, darling.

My husband loved Garrett.
We all did.

Guinevere, I presume.

Yes, but also Kathy Kreeger.

You all need to come down
to the station in the morning.

I need to take a statement
from everyone who was there.

Killing Garrett
was unintentional,

but leaving his body
was a crime.

My wife wasn'’t even
at the battle.

I'’ll still need you
to come down
and give a statement.

I'’m really tempted
to not come back.
New Seattle blows.

I guess I would have to
end things with my fiancee.

[horn honks]

What the hell?

See why I hate this place?

[rifle cocks]

We will rise

and they will drown!

The meals on the bus go down,
down, down!

[upbeat music playing]

Fear not killers!
Fear not rapists!

It is to a better place
you go...

The digestive tract
of a hungry zombie!

It will be over soon!
Submit! Submit!

Brothers, sisters, feed!

Feed to your heart'’s content.

Those are some good minions.

[Angus] Rejoice, my friends.
Rejoice.

- Feast to your heart'’s content.
- [indistinct shouting]

It'’s a medical condition,
Blaine.

Still...

[Crybaby] It'’s glandular.
Nothing I can do about it.

Have him go kill someone.
Here, I'’ll do it.

Crybaby Carl!
Go kill somebody on that bus.

Crybaby, stop.

Oh, one of them'’s getting away.

[Angus] Mangia, mangia, mangia!

[Blaine] That your
accountant guy?

- Not him.
- Cool beans.

[prisoner] No, get away! Aah!

They'’re eating that guy's
brains right out of his head.

They didn'’t even
kill him first.

I'’m pretty sure he's dead.

His legs are moving.

I think that'’s
a nervous system thing.

Now he'’s definitely dead.

- Oop. No, wait.
- [man] Oh, God, no...

- [zombie chomping]
- Okay, now.

[Casper blubbering]

Please! Please, don'’t eat me!
Ah! I'’ll do anything.

Tell me the truth, Casper.
What'’s scarier, them or me?

Stacey, please.

Don'’t let them eat me.
I'’m begging you.

You had a lot to say
to the DA'’s office
about my operation,

but when I want to know
where my money is,
you'’re silent.

Okay, you can take it!
It'’s in locker 220.

It'’s at the ferry terminal.
It'’s on Colman!

Please!
Just let me go!

Thanks,

but I'’d rather get it straight
from the horse'’s brain.

This is Blaine.
He'’ll be eating you tonight.

Crybaby.
Do what you do, man.

- [upbeat music playing]
- No.

[Casper] No! Please.

[crying] Please.
Don'’t eat me. No!

You can stop doing that.
I spoke to his family.

They don'’t want it,
and with the
investigation over,

they said we could
just trash it.

A sad end for such
a valiant man.

You'’re lucky your maiden fair
never caught his eye.

Uh, hello?
Undercover with
the zombie truthers.

Yes, but our Peyton'’s
fantasy life

revolves entirely around
knights in shining armor.

Fortune has smiled on you.
Count thyself blest.

So, you have no idea
where Isobel is?

Is there any chance the coyote
got her into Seattle and you
just don'’t know it yet?

-I knoweth not.
I await news from Sir Levon.
-[door opens]

Ah-ha!

How could you?

[gasps]

Whoa! What'’d you see?

Guinevere cheating
on King Arthur.

- With Lancelot, I presume.
- Verily.

I must away.

I know this sounds like some
kind of role-play come-on,

um, but I literally can'’t
figure out how
to take this off.

Let me see what we can do.

You'’re human and you were
sleeping with

Garrett/Lancelot.

That means
King Arthur/your husband
knew Garrett was human, too.

It'’s not what you think.

Well, that'’s good, Guinevere,
because what I think

is that your husband,
King Arthur, murdered
your lover, Lancelot.

You do know that when LARPing,
you are free to change
the endings?

I love my husband.

And my husband loves me.

But after Kevin
became a zombie...

A bedswerver ye became.

I thought that our love
was strong enough.

That sex wasn'’t everything.

But it became clear
how important it was.

What intimacy
does for a couple.

How lack of it tears
them apart.

My liege and lord has faced
down similar demons, and yet,
not a murder one.

He and his zombie lover allow
others to share their bed.

[sharply] Liv.

Has that worked for you?

[sighs] It hasn'’t been
the easiest thing.

I wouldn'’t think so.

Look, Detective...

Even if my husband
wanted to kill Garrett,

it had to be a freak accident.
First of all,

Garrett is the greatest
swordsman in Seattle.

It'’s a fluke that Kevin
even touched him.

Also, Kevin fights
with Excalibur. A broadsword.

If you wanted to kill someone
wearing chainmail,
you wouldn'’t use a broadsword,

you'’d use something
super-pointy.

[Clive] Something like...

this?

That'’s not Excalibur.

Gallahad, the pure of heart!

Steve! Steve!

We'’re ready for you.

[clears throat]

Mr. Kreeger,
here'’s what we know.

We know you were aware
that Garrett was human

because you caught him cheating
with your human wife.

You didn'’t fight
with Excalibur,

a blade synonymous
with King Arthur.

Instead, you chose to fight
with a sword that could
pierce chainmail.

- And according to Gallahad...
- The pure of heart.

During the fight, you tricked
Lancelot into thinking
that you had been injured.

When Lancelot let down
his guard to assist you,

you thrust a sword
through his gut.

You fought without honor.

[scoffs] When he slept
with my wife, he ceded
his honor card.

You had to trick him
because he was
a better fighter than you.

A better fighter.
A better lover.

Certainly better-looking,
younger... [scoffs]

And yet, here I am.

Still alive.
And I'’ll serve no prison time.

I admit nothing.

We were LARPers,
playing a game.

And Garrett pretended to be
a zombie and that'’s how
he got himself killed.

That'’s what a jury
will believe, so you can keep
your pad, Detective.

[Clive scoffs]

[Mr. Boss] I can'’t believe
my former accountant

actually told us
the real location.

He did seem eager to impress
in his final moments

and my vision was clear as day.

Locker 220 at the ferry station
on Colman.

Come to Daddy.

[sighs]

Disappointing.

I don'’t understand.

Well, I don'’t know
what to tell you.

I saw Cotter
put a black duffel bag

full of money in this locker.

Well, then where
the hell is it?

Liv, you can'’t just bring
new people here.

You put everyone at risk.

- New people need to be vetted.
- New to you, good sir,

but to me a lifetime
of loyalty.

I come bearing gifts.

[exhaling]

- Whoa!
- [Levon scoffs]

Consider Lady Peyton vetted.

Think of those
who will benefit from this.

All the people we weren'’t
able to bring in before.

[knock at door]

[sighs] It'’s all right.

Come on.

[Curtis] There
were some hiccups.

-What happened?
-A couple of the guards
along the north wall

decided what we bribed them
isn'’t enough.

We had to find another route.

- She was a champ.
- I'’m... I'm so glad we made it.

It was such a crazy drama
getting here.

I couldn'’t handle
the Walley World situation.

"Zombie Park'’s closed.
Walrus out front
should'’ve told you." [chuckles]

Hey.

Let'’s do this.
I'’m tired of being sick.

'’Tis with the proudest
of hearts

that I shall fulfill the third
of my promises three.

Oh, great.

Quick question.
Do all zombies talk like you

or do you, like, actually
work at a Ren Faire?

Isobel of Idaho,
I welcome you to
the brotherhood of zombies.

Live undead with a true heart

and do naught but good.

[breathes deeply]

Uh...

How long
does it take to kick in?

It'’s usually pretty immediate.
Try the other arm.

Yeah, maybe it'’s like
a vein thing.

[clears throat]

- Isobel of...
- [Peyton] Liv...

- Oh, Renegade.
- Sorry.

Go a little deeper this time.

[Levon] Maybe do her neck.

Have you eaten today?

I don'’t understand.

I'’m going to die, aren't I?

[theme music playing]