Original subtitles

Get home safe and go to bed.

- How about you join me? - Nice try, kid.

Ellie, when you gonna make a man out of me?

- Get home and make yourself a man. - What?

- You're gonna miss your Uber. - Ellie, I love you.

- Good night. - I love you.

We're just about to close up here.

- You got a ride home? - I'm not feeling too good.

Can you show me the restroom?

Hold that thought.

Last call, guys. Gentlemen?

Don't mind me. I've only been getting your damn rum and cokes all night.

All right, sweetie, let's roll. Come on.

Goodness. Keep it classy.

Come on, I got you.

- Uh! So sorry. - It's fine.

- Have we met before? - No.

Your loss.

- Oh, damn it. - Let's go.

Go ahead. I'll get this.

No, no, that's a terrible idea.

Don't go to the precinct.

- Yeah, I'll come meet you. Okay. - What's going on?

That is a full hands-on-deck crisis.

- Whose crisis? - If I tell, will you cover for me today?

- Not until you tell me. - It's Guy. Actually, it's Guy.

It's my mom's guy, Guy. Her special friend. Remember him?

He got himself mugged this morning.

- Lost his bag and laptop. - Shouldn't we call your mom?

He doesn't want us to, because he doesn't want her to worry.

Why would she be worried about his bag being stolen?

- Oh, no. - What?

What if there's, like, pictures of my mom on his computer?

- Deeks, really, your mom? - Yeah, my mom.

Not talking about your sweet mom. Talking about Crazy Bertie.

Oh, you better find that laptop.

Yeah. That's exactly why you gotta cover for me.

- No. Because what if Mosley finds out? - She can't.

- Right. Because we'd lose our jobs. - Which is why you're covering for me.

- I am not, Deeks. - So adorable when you're angry.

- No. No. - What?

No puppy eyes. Don't do this. Don't do this, Deeks. This is serious.

- Hey, I hate you. - Ooh! Bad timing on my part.

Don't worry. Everything's fine in Keeksland. Just I gotta go.

Got a top-secret mission. Kensi will brief you.

- Hey, I heart you both. - Oh...

- It's an L.A.P.D. thing. - Mm-hm.

Well, Nell's got a case thing, so chop-chop.

Yeah, chop-chop.

- Okay, thanks. - Hey, Kensi.

Hey, Hidoko. Uh, where are the boys?

Callen and Sam are at the crime scene. Where's your boy?

Oh, L.A.P.D. sensitivity training. Supposed to take all day.

Alrighty, then.

So last night, there was a fatal explosion at The Riven,

a popular Hollywood dive bar. Three people have died.

L.A.F.D. have determined it was an incendiary device.

- No video was recovered. - A firebombing in Hollywood?

- That's not good. - What about the victims?

Well, we've identified Ernesto Herrera and Pei Liu.

- We are tracking their addresses. - What's this have to do with NCIS?

Herrera and Liu both left the Marines two years ago. Different units.

Both have gang-related charges on their records.

MS-13 and Wah Ching. Serious stuff.

Different military units, different gangs.

What about the third victim?

Unfortunately, he was the most badly burned, so no ID yet.

- Any connection between the victims? - No, but gangs often recruit

former military members for their weapons and combat skills.

Last night's attack could be the beginning

of a larger military-related gang conflict.

If gangs are recruiting ex-Marines for their ranks,

we have to know about it and stop it.

Well, I love your enthusiasm.

Except the fire department called and said someone survived the blast.

And since Deeks is away on important business,

you and Hidoko could go to the hospital

- and see what she has to say. - Sure thing.

Okay, I will send you the address to the witness' hospital.

I'll check social media for a post from the bar last night. Hashtag "teamwork."

One for Kensi. And one... Okay.

Double ouch.

Nell said the 911 call came in around 2 a.m., closing time.

Someone was waiting for these guys.

Then went to a lot of trouble to torch the place.

Looks like the fuse from a thermite grenade.

Burns at 4000 degrees almost through anything.

I'm guessing that includes a hard drive with security footage.

Whoever did this, they knew the place.

They wanted to destroy the evidence.

Well, he was an overachiever.

Eleanor?

Oh, Lord, you are not my mama, and I am not dead.

Call me Ellie.

All right. I'm Agent Kensi Blye from NCIS.

- My colleague Harley Hidoko. - I hope we aren't interrupting.

You're kidding me, right?

I just watched six episodes of Tiny House.

How can anybody live all cramped up like that? That's just insane.

- Listen, can you get me out of here? - We can talk to your doctors.

Good, because I been here a few hours, and I am done with all this.

- Can you tell us what happened? - Sure.

I let Teddie go early. That's my bouncer.

Place was dead. I called last call.

Two guys were still there, another one smoking outside.

Then this drunk lady asked me to show her the restroom.

- I walked her back, and then, boom. - Boom?

Bada-boom. Lights out, good night.

I wake up in the refrigerator with two Mr. August-Firemen

standing over me, all sweaty and sooty.

Place all burned up, three dead guys on the ground.

- Had you ever seen that woman? - Nope.

But you wanna know the craziest part?

She throws me in the refrigerator, right?

But also turns it off, calls 911 from my phone.

Why would anybody do that?

Why would anybody do that? Give us a second.

- Go get them, girls. - All right.

Okay, let's recap. Our mystery woman locks Ellie in the refrigerator,

the only safe place while the building was on fire.

She didn't wanna hurt any civilians. She was calculated.

But we have three dead bodies, no known connection,

murdered by a woman that no one else saw.

Okay.

Slashes here and here, drops him instantly.

Fatal blow between the eyes, kills him, falls forward.

- Guy comes up, weapon drawn. - Before he can get a shot off,

- the killer disarms him, drops him. - Not before he snaps his arm,

twists the neck.

Then he takes his gun.

Unloads it in this guy as he comes through the door.

This guy dropped combat-trained gang members like it was nothing.

Three kills, three different methods.

Clean exit. No witnesses.

Only a handful of guys could pull something like this off.

Handful of guys and at least one woman.

- Eric. - Oh, my.

What are you doing?

I'm stress-eating sugar. This woman's a ghost.

I ran Kaleidoscope on traffic cam images around the bar in Hollywood.

No women were found in the area at the time of the explosion.

- I don't know what to do. - Don't be so hard on yourself.

She killed three men. Two are former military.

Seems pretty normal that she'd evade cameras.

- You think? That makes me feel better. - Yeah.

Hey, oh, check this out. Come with me. Come here.

- You know the fuse that Sam found? - Yes.

- It's an AN-M14 thermite grenade. - Those are hard to come by.

A civilian could only get one through the black market.

So our suspect has ties to the military or black market.

And a case of these went missing, along with other weapons a year ago

at the Marine base at Twentynine Palms.

Okay, that's almost impossible to pull off.

Someone achieved the almost-impossible and got away with it.

ATF always suspected this guy...

- Actually, can you just...? - Yeah.

This guy, Jackson Horton.

- But no one could pin it on him. - We'll tell Callen we'll talk to Jackson.

- Thank you, Eric. - Yeah.

This woman got her hands on a thermite grenade,

drops two military men and knifes a third.

- She could be a gang member. - Or former military.

Dangerous either way.

I met a girl in a bar like this in Georgia.

- You met a lot of girls in bars like this. - But this one was special.

The girl or the bar?

What's up, Nell?

I've got an address for Pei Liu, the second victim.

- I'm sending it to you now. - All right, thanks.

Can you and Eric cross-reference former female military

- with known female gang members? - I'm already searching.

We're gonna go from zero suspects to a hundred.

Yeah. Well, the more, the merrier.

- Marty, you okay? - Deeks.

- There's a water fountain over there. - I'm good. I'm fine.

- What are you doing? Meditating? - I do this every day about this time.

Figured I'd stick to my routine after the morning I had.

Explains why you're so calm.

- Why not tell me what happened? - Oh, okay.

I finished a 6 a.m. training session with a client in Beverly Hills.

- I'm walking to the... - Wait, 6 a.m.? That's early.

A celebrity? A Real Housewife? You can tell me. I'm a cop.

That's confidential. You understand secrets, don't you, Marty?

- Deeks. - Sure.

- No, it wasn't a celebrity. - That's far less interesting.

- But continue. You were walking. - So I'm walking to the juice bar.

- Got that. - This car screeches up.

And this squirrely guy, this dude jumps out,

shoves a gun in my face, and demands my bag

which has my wallet and my laptop in it.

- You gave the squirrely guy your bag? - I'm not gonna argue with a gun.

Look who I'm telling. Am I right, Martin?

- Deeks. It's Deeks. - Sure.

All right, listen, this is easy. I'll just cruise down to the precinct,

fill out some paperwork, see if I can get your bag back.

I get it, it's tough. You lose your laptop,

- you lose your music, documents... - Won't.

- I backed up everything. - Smart. You're a super-smart guy.

But I would hate for someone to get their hands on those documents.

It has some, uh, workouts that I filmed.

Sorry, what?

- You filmed your workouts? - Filmed my work.

You mean, like a training exercise?

- It'd be like you giving... - No.

- By yourself? - The client.

- You and a client. - Very special client.

My mom is a client. Yeah, no.

What kind of...?

Uh, what kind of workouts are we talking about?

- You know, pushups, knee bends, - Yeah.

- Squats. - Okay.

- Okay. All right, stop talking. - Burpees.

So we definitely... We wanna make sure those don't end up online.

Why, no, Martin, we don't.

No.

So, what Georgia dive bars are we talking?

I been to a few in Fort Benning. I was in Airborne School in the SEALs.

Wrong Georgia.

No parachuting, no peaches. Lot of Chechens, though.

Yeah, and caves, and wine.

Yeah, you've been there, huh?

Sam?

That's a lot of company for a dead man.

I'm set out here.

- Sam, you in position? - In position.

Three, two, one, breach.

Breach.

- Federal agents. - Get them. Get them.

Federal agents.

Show me your hands. Now. Federal agents. Stay down.

Right there, let me see your hands.

- Clearing team. - Got it.

- Move. - Clear here.

- West bedroom, clear. - Not very discreet.

No, it's not. Lot of weight here.

All right, move out.

Careful. You don't wanna cut yourself.

Come on, let's go.

Only two numbers in here. One for Slim, one for Peewee.

- Easy, man. Easy. - Keep moving.

- Secure that weapon. - It's a rough bunch.

- Something had them spooked. - After that attack on the bar,

word must've spread through the L.A. underground.

These guys are on the defense.

I don't like it, G.

I don't like it.

Eric says Horton lives on the property.

Keep your eyes peeled in case he tries to run.

You think of everything ahead of time.

And you make this look so easy.

When I took this job assisting Mosley, I had no idea what I got into.

Totally different from the female engagement team.

One minute you're talking to village women.

The next, you're taking out a threat on site.

Exactly. And here, it's a lot more rules, restraint, red tape.

Yeah, I know, it's hard.

- Any advice? - Yeah, I do have advice.

Learn to have your team's back.

Oh, and Epsom salts work wonders when you're too sore to walk.

Jackson Horton?

Camper.

- Federal agent. - You okay?

- Jackson Horton? - Call me Jackhammer.

Yeah, we're not gonna do that.

In that case, what can I do you for, Ms. Federal-Agent-Ladies?

Mr. Reseda-Storage-Specialist, we wanna know about the weapons

you allegedly stole at Twentynine Palms.

I wanna know why my cousin Jerry's buying new subwoofers

- when he owes me 300 bucks. - Jackson, seriously, what happened?

I got tied up at work. Ha, ha!

I work alone. I got taken off guard, got tied up.

- Someone didn't pay their bill. - Did you get a look at him?

Him? Try her.

Never seen anybody move that fast, and I did two tours in Mosul.

I didn't get a look at her face, but she had, like, a Spanish accent.

Okay.

Is that the storage unit she emptied out?

Nope.

Now seems like a good time for you to show me your warrant.

We don't need one if it's open, Jackhammer.

Here's the good news. We've rescued you.

- Here's the bad news. - Oh, hey...

- We're tying you up again. - Come on. Seriously?

Come... Hey.

I see a few things missing. Berettas, carbine rifles.

- Knives, grenades. - Yeah.

- Not good. - Not good at all. Wanna know why?

Women only steal what they intend to use.

This is what we have from The Riven's social media feed.

She made sure her face is hidden in every shot, every angle.

That's solid tradecraft.

She has a pretty good drunk girl routine too.

She loaded up on Ka-Bars, Berrettas, grenades, AT4s.

AT4s? She stole missile launchers?

- She's taking it to the next level. - Right.

Hey, guys. So dental records came in. We've identified the final victim.

- Who's the outlier? - That would be Luciano Carvalho.

He worked at the Brazilian Consulate under Consul General Enzo Souza.

I've contacted his office for 30 minutes. No one is picking up.

Jackson said she had a Spanish accent.

It could've also been Portuguese.

They speak that in Brazil. Sounds like Spanish.

This assassin just took out a diplomat from a major foreign ally.

We need to figure out our next move before this goes international.

I can help with that. I met Souza years ago in Brazil

while I worked with Congresswoman Geary on her protection detail.

You think Souza would be involved with this?

All I know is Souza's no angel.

I say we pay him a visit and assess the situation ourselves.

Time to put on your big-boy suits.

- Shay Mosley. - Good afternoon.

The consul general would like to see Senora Mosley alone.

He requests that her sidekicks not be present.

You don't mind, do you, boys?

No, ma'am.

Sidekicks?

Ah! The lovely Senora Mosley.

Please, be comfortable here.

Shay, you look as beautiful as ever.

Oh, and you've remained as charming as ever.

Coffee, tea, caipirinha? I can call for cachaca and limes.

We already have plenty of sugar.

Coffee. I may overstay my welcome if there are caipirinhas involved.

Oh, impossible, senora, impossible.

Please.

Check out these two guys.

Good to see you again.

Maybe they lost their passports.

Is there a washroom around here?

Thank you.

Looks like we found Slim and Peewee.

Well-played.

- Enjoying your post in the States? - Immensely.

Almost feels like home in Sao Paulo.

Proximity to the beach, concrete, traffic.

I believe it was during the official tour of the Amazon

that you saw two capuchin monkeys in an argument and you...

How do you say, you...?

- You, um, chuckled. - Ha, ha!

Ha, ha, ha, yeah.

Yeah, your laugh delighted everyone in the delegation.

Yes, it's been, um, quite some time since I thought about that trip.

Listen, I don't mean to jump so quickly into business, but I'm here to...

Yeah, you're an American. You get to the point. I understand.

I'm here to discuss Luciano Carvalho.

He was a close friend and colleague, for a very long time.

I'm sorry for your loss.

Do you have any idea who may have wanted him dead?

My associates found that Carvalho had been spending time

with unsavory individuals.

And what was he doing at the bar?

Ms. Shay.

I always took you to be more astute.

He was at the bar plotting my assassination.

Okay, yeah.

Amazing. Here you go, mango.

Thanks.

No, I'm glad to see our tax dollars at work.

All right, you too. Thanks.

- Good news? - Great news.

We got your bag, your laptop, some notebook.

My sketchpad. Studied drawing in college.

- Oh, nice. - Still dabble.

- What do you do? Still-life cartoons? - No. I prefer to dabble in nudes.

- Seriously? - Yeah.

It just does not end with you.

- No. - Um, so I'll head down to the precinct.

It usually takes two weeks to process.

I'm just gonna pick it up, and I'm gonna get it.

- I owe you one. - Yup.

I know stolen property is not your usual territory.

No, it's not, but it's far less dangerous.

That's what I heard.

- Bert really worries about you guys. - Well, I worry about her too.

Don't worry, I really love that girl.

You know what it's like, Martin.

Yeah.

Yeah, I do, Guy.

- Thanks. - Yeah. Cheers.

Enjoy your mango juice. It was $14.

Yeah, $14.

It's right there.

- Hey, where's Sam and Mosley? - Mosley's with Consul General Souza.

Convincing him the consulate is no longer safe.

- Sam's backing her up. - Is she getting anywhere?

Souza claims that he knows nothing about Carvalho's death.

He believes that Carvalho was in the bar plotting to kill him.

Mosley said that he's no angel.

Maybe people that work for him wanted to take him out.

In that case, tell me what you make of this.

Carlos Rey.

A teacher-turned-activist tired of drugs destroying the Séo Paulo favelas.

He was blamed in the newspapers for bombing a drug den

by then-Congressman Enzo Souza.

Any guesses on who tipped off the reporters?

Hundred Brazilian reals for the winner.

I'll just tell you myself.

Souza's Chief of Staff, Luciano Carvalho.

So Carvalho and Souza have known each other for a long time.

Could've had a falling-out.

What if Carvalho hired our mystery woman to take out Souza?

- He meets her at the bar... - She kills him and his buddies.

I don't see it. Why would she do that?

Mosley just convinced Souza to take an 18-hour flight to Singapore.

- Smart. Buys us the time we need. - She was probably watching him,

for weeks, maybe months, waiting for the time to strike.

It'll force her to adapt to something she didn't plan.

We are playing intercontinental hot potato with a senior diplomat as bait.

Think we're on D.C.'s blacklist now? Souza gets killed in our backyard,

a hundred Mosleys couldn't keep the lights on here.

Sam's taking point on Souza's security detail.

They'll be at the airport in an hour. You be our eyes.

By all means.

The package is onboard, Kensi. You two set?

Ready to roll.

- Eric, how are your eyes? - Twenty-twenty thus far.

Kensi, keep your head on a swivel.

You got it.

Nell, you got our backs?

You are free and clear, Sam. No one's following.

- We're 5 miles out from the airport. - Good. We're hungry back here.

Watch out!

Sam!

She's got a second missile.

Sam.

Uh! Sam.

- Sam, wake up. You okay? - I'm good.

I'm good, too, in case you're wondering.

The frame's bent. Frame's bent.

- Go after her. Go. - Let's go. Let's go.

Come on, let's go.

There.

Yeah.

- What's a Weedwacker? - I'll tell you on the way. Get in.

Our asset is safe.

Nice work, Nell.

- Nice work. - Thanks.

- Take upstairs. I'll take the front. - Got it.

No sign of her. No security cams either.

This ends now.

Turn around.

Hands above your head.

Kensi?

- Kensi? - I got her.

Get on your knees.

Kensi!

He hides behind his titles

as his dog Carvalho kept poisoning my people with his poeira.

- Here you go, all set. - Mm.

You took some blows.

Mosley's on her way here with Souza.

Bet she wished she put him on a plane.

Hey, I've never seen anybody fight like her,

but you gave her hell right back. I'm sorry I didn't make it to you in time.

You run that fight nine times out of ten, you come out on top.

And the 10th time, I come out in a body bag.

She could've killed me, but she didn't.

Well, it was right after she pointed a missile launcher at us.

She's not exactly humanitarian.

She said that Souza and Carvalho were selling poeira.

It's Brazilian Portuguese for "cocaine."

Oh, she got my phone.

I'm enhancing footage from Sam's dash cam

and running it through facial rec.

But considering this woman spoke Portuguese,

I'm cross-referencing it with South American federal agencies.

Eric, bring up that photo behind you.

Zoom in on Carlos.

That's her.

Holy cow.

All right, Interpol file says that she's Pietra Rey from Séo Paulo.

Her father Carlos was gunned down in 2002.

Pietra was 13.

She thinks Carvalho and Souza murdered her father.

She's here to avenge his death.

She's also been linked with Revolugdo Sociedade Livre,

which is a Brazilian militia group.

They train in the jungle at a young age.

They're deadly fighters.

We need to talk to Souza about Pietra's next move.

We're here.

Just in time.

Interrogation. Am I a prisoner?

Perhaps your State Department will have something to say about that.

We took a rocket for you.

- We need some cooperation. - We got two questions.

Do you know a woman from Sao Paulo named Pietra Rey?

SAs I said earlier, heh, heh, Americans,

right down to business.

There's no time for anything else.

I do not know of Pietra Rey, but I know the name Carlos Rey.

He was a terrorist with reprehensible tactics.

He brought about his own death when he endangered Brazilian citizens.

Second question?

Are you involved in the Brazilian drug trade?

Most certainly not.

People in Brazil like to spread rumors

that fly around like caracara jungle birds.

The narcotics industry is not only a fool's endeavor,

it is a blemish on the face of both of our beautiful countries.

I don't trust a word he's saying.

- Kensi, your phone's back online. - Where is it?

Half a mile from the boatshed.

What?

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

- She put a tracker on you? - Yeah.

Kensi, it's a video call from your phone number.

What?

- Hello, Kensi Blye. - What do you want?

You to vacate the building without Souza in the next minute.

Otherwise, you'll all die with him.

Hey, don't hang up.

Go get the boys.

That package you ordered just arrived.

Pietra tracked Kensi here

and threatened to fire a missile into the boatshed

if we leave with Souza. Kensi's trying to track her down.

Kensi, keep her on the phone.

We're gonna go out, double back around.

No, I will handle this.

- Kensi. - Kens, wait.

- Callen, I got this. - Put the consul general

and Mosley upstairs.

- Won't that give her a better shot? - Hetty reinforced it

after Duggan got shot. Strongest part of the building.

- Hidoko, you're with me. - Okay.

We're going upstairs. It isn't safe in here. Come on.

Let's go.

- She can't be that far. Cover that area. - Got it.

Hurry.

Where are you taking me? What's going on?

You had her father killed.

Now she's here to kill you. Is that direct enough for you?

Sam and Mosley are secure. We'll do this one by the books, Kens.

Kensi, answer me.

She's a couple hundred yards ahead of you, Callen.

You'll shoot me to protect this man?

I know what you're thinking. You have no idea how much I understand.

Are your friends clear of the building?

Souza's not worth it. Don't throw your life away.

My life ended when I tried holding my father's head together

as he died in my arms.

We've gotta get upstairs now.

Killing me is not a good idea.

Oh, I disagree.

International law stands.

Immunity is not just an abstract term.

- Sam, why aren't you upstairs? Sam? - We got a problem, G.

Kens, Sam and Mosley aren't upstairs.

- Take her out now. - Callen, I need more time. I got this.

You step out of here, you're done.

You come closer, she's done.

Put the gun down, Sam.

Put the gun down.

Put the gun down.

- You take the shot or I will. - Callen, I need you to trust me.

Stay down.

No, wait. Stop, please.

When I was teenager, my dad was murdered. Okay?

I did... I did really horrible things.

I shut away the people that loved me the most.

But then I did something that I thought was impossible.

I asked for help, and I got it.

And that anger no longer has any control over me.

You could have ended up a forasteira, just like me,

an outsider in my own community.

All I wanted was to fight in the jungle for a chance at revenge.

I know you believe this is the moment you've been waiting for.

But you know what? You make this decision,

it doesn't change anything.

Listen, making the right decision, right now, that will change everything.

So please, please, put that...

Please, put it down.

Please, put it down.

Just get down on your knees.

Sam?

We're good up here.

Us too.

Speak for yourself. I broke a heel.

After all this, he can just leave?

Hopefully he takes a magazine. That flight to Rio is 16 hours.

He doesn't know he's going back at the request of his home country.

Really? What changed?

Well, somebody uploaded the contents of Souza's personal cell phone

to the Brazilian Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Let's just say they were very interested in what it contained.

Okay.

Watch your head.

What'll happen to her?

The Brazilian government is extraditing her back to Sao Paulo.

She's agreed to testify against him, which will obviously help her case.

I talked to some guys at the DEA.

They'd like to give her a medal for taking down Carvalho.

It doesn't really excuse her for tearing up the place.

No, it does not.

Well, kids, it's been a long day. I'm gonna go home.

I hope Deeks did okay with that sensitivity training.

He's very sensitive now.

Yeah, sensitivity is important.

It'd be sad if he wasn't.

- Later, Kensi. - Hidoko, thank you.

Kens, you look like you could use a drink.

Yeah, I could use a drink, but you know what?

I got stuff to do. I'll catch you guys tomorrow.

- I love you. - All right.

Well, partner, looks like it's just you and me.

Whatever happened with that girl in the bar in Georgia?

Uh, she tried to kill me.

Most do sooner or later.

What can I say? I bring out the passion in them.

- And the crazy. - Yeah, that's true.

- Hey, baby. - Hey.

What happened to you?

- Nothing a little Epsom salts can't fix. - My God, look at your nose.

- You look like Owen Wilson. - Ha, ha! Thank you for that.

Like Rocky after Clubber Lang got ahold of him.

It was not fun getting my ass kicked today.

- But I did save a life today. - Nice work.

- And I got to use my Portuguese. - Can you give me a sexy sample?

All I got was "pizza," but it was sexy.

That's all you need to know. Let's go.

Just one quick request before we go.

This is Guy's stolen stuff.

Okay. What's this?

That is his sketch book.

Go ahead and just take a quick gander into there.

- What am I looking for? - You'll know if you see it.

- Okay, some fruit. - Yeah.

- Zebra. - Do love a good zebra.

Yup.

- Oh, my God, is it my mom? - Oh, heh, heh, it's your mom.

- No! - Please. It's like Rose from Titanic.

- No, it's going in the burn room. - No, you cannot burn it. It is art.

It's not art. It's my mom.