Previously on Veronica Mars...
Where's the ring, raghead?!
- I don't know! - Liar!
Abu Ghraaaah!
Kill those two guys back there. I never want to see them again.
This is from the congressman.
Big Dick Casablancas and Clyde Pickett
are responsible for the bombings.
They are killing Neptune
as a spring break destination city!
- I'm makin' it a bigger thing?! - Clyde, no one believes him!
He's the pizza boy who cried wolf.
Duck!
There's something digging into my back.
Oh!
I need help from someone with top secret government clearance
in finding the person
who is blackmailing Daniel Maloof.
You don't seem to care about all those people
getting killed by bombs, Juan Diego.
Six hundred. It'll get you far away from here.
It's a pattern,
- but I was missing a perp. - And now?
What about Nicole?
We know for sure that almost every victim
passed through Quacks.
Not a lot of ladies slip on sap gloves
and knock men out with practiced right hooks.
I think it was there,
sitting at my desk listening to my new buddy Nicole
playing Mr. Wobbly Hides His Helmet with one of her bartenders
that it crossed my mind.
There might be something wrong with me.
Maybe Logan was right. I should have sought professional help
- right then. - Veronica.
Line one, Ms. Mars.
Thanks, darlin'.
Uh, coffee. Black.
You're prettier when you smile.
Veronica Mars.
Of course I remember.
She did? How?
Okay. I'll look into it right away.
Okay, Renee.
I'll talk to you soon. Bye.
Matty's family left on a spring break vacation to Paris.
Matty's mom and stepfather were in first class,
so neither of them noticed that Matty never boarded.
She Home Alone-d them.
Matty's mom wants me to find her.
- Well, you've done it before. - Oh.
And Nicole sold Comrade Quacks to Big Dick Casablancas
just days after confronting him at the City Council meeting.
But someone was just telling me that Nicole couldn't be a suspect
because she would never destroy her own business
by setting off these bombs.
Well, that person,
whoever it was,
is a real asshole.
Alexa. Who's the bomber?
Uh, we don't have one of those.
Then who the hell's been talkin' to me when you're not here?
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --
Bonjour, mon enfant terrible.
Quelle surprise.
Where's the wine?
In your mother's voice when she called me this morning.
Of course my mom called you.
Yeah. She shoulda just let it slide.
I mean, uncool, Mom.
Who's the Salvador Dali of string art?
Me. It was hanging up in the office when it blew up.
I did it when I was ten. Dad loved it.
Did you know that Big Dick left his first wife
for this tart 20 years younger than him?
I know everything.
Did you know that Big Dick had a son
who blew up a busload of kids?
Fully up to speed.
So what I don't get is why
you don't think his asshole father could be the bomber?
I did at first.
But...
Matty, with each bomb, it seems less and less likely.
But he's the one profiting from the bombs.
He's buying up all the land.
I just don't think he has the stomach for mass murder.
So he hires people.
Like Perry Walsh, the guy who planted the bomb
in our vending machine?
Or that guy Clyde?
Clyde was well known for robbing banks
using nothing more than good manners and his bedroom voice.
Fine.
Call your mom.
Tell her you're okay.
Whoa. Don't tase me, bro, I'll make the call.
It's yours.
It's pretty self-explanatory.
What's up, Don?
I only have a few minutes
before I have to brief Senator Klynholtz.
Which tie best tells the House Republicans to jam it up their asses?
Uh, no tie. A dashiki.
And I always thought you'd look good in a kufi prayer cap.
So, blue tie.
Oh, my God. You used to have balls.
"Thirty minutes or less." Do you remember those days?
I envy you, Penny. No real responsibilities.
Still able to shake your fist at the Man.
Hey, I have got it all goin' on.
Anyway, the reason I called...
It's not for fashion advice?
Carol mentioned to me that you two were pursuing a new theory,
something about prostituting oneself?
Anyway, us fellow Murderheads all agree it'd be best
if you ran any new theories by me first
before announcing them publicly.
Shit, the Senator's gonna be pissed. Tell me you're on board.
Fine.
There's my team player.
Dominate.
Asshole.
Uh, FBI agents are ineligible to collect rewards.
So what I'm hearing is that there is no reason
you should not tell me everything you know.
Okay. Here's what I know.
My bosses are having us chase a guy that I don't think is the guy.
He's a serial bomber, but I...
- Why don't you like him? - Well, he's a racist.
A racist? Well, then I don't like him either.
Yeah, but these Neptune bombings, they don't feel like
they have a racial component to them.
True.
The victims are like a Benetton ad.
Exactly. But the people above me in the food chain
tell me to focus on this guy, so I'm gonna focus on this guy.
Unless, of course, you've already solved the case.
Is this, uh, your bag full o' clues?
No, that's my bag full o' lady stuff.
Suspect sighting in Reno. We gotta boogie.
Okay. Let's not be late capturing the wrong guy.
Uh, it's good to see you, Veronica.
"Prostitute yourself"?
Yeah. Exactly.
It's all laid for you. It's practically courtroom ready!
Get the hell out of my office!
You are the pizza boy who cried wolf,
and we are done listening to you!
Do you understand?!
These are old case files.
Deaths written off as accidents from previous spring breaks.
So Leo said it was okay for you to photograph confidential FBI files?
Not in those exact words.
Which words did he use?
It was more of a vibe.
There was a twinkle of consent in his eye,
the invitation implicit in the very act of leaving the room.
Implicit because he left you in the room
and didn't specifically say, "Please don't photograph these."
- See? You get it. - Yep.
What are you reading?
The incident at Chattanooga Charlie's last spring break.
I kind of remember it.
One of the tanks exploded, killed an employee.
Report called it equipment failure.
What do you got?
Another suspicious accident.
Three spring breaks ago,
A Hearst freshman Pi Sig dies on the beach
from burns suffered when his tent catches on fire with him in it.
There were whispers of it being a hazing gone wrong,
but again, written off as an accident.
I'll drop by Chattanooga Charlie's.
I've already got a rapport with the owner.
Okay, sure.
And me and the guys at Pi Sigma Sigma, we're super tight, so...
Knock knock. Who loves pizza?
This clue is huge.
In my mind, this blows this whole thing right open.
And this was a group Murderhead effort.
I mean, I nudged them, and then... voilà.
And I thought, "Who should reel this fish in?
Team Mars." That's why I'm givin' you guys first crack.
I saw you in the police chief's office a few hours ago.
Okay. Look, that was my civic duty.
This? This is me havin' a shot
at a slice of that quarter-million dollar reward.
What's the clue?
What's my cut?
We're not going to negotiate without knowing the clue.
All right.
Big Dick Casablancas
has a Twitter feed called BigDickProps.
Five times
he has used the phrase "prostitute oneself" in his tweets.
- That's weird, but what does it... - The... note from the bomber
included that phrase.
You know how I know I'm onto something?
How?
Because yesterday
I found a dead duck in my bed.
It's them telling me to back off.
Now...
about that cut.
My mom's all right.
She just thought my dad lacked ambition.
They wanted different things, I guess.
It happens.
I should go now. Thanks for the square meal.
Hello.
Logan, Matty. Matty, Logan.
- Hey there. - Hi.
I was just on my way out.
Something I said?
- Bye. - Bye.
That's the girl who lost her dad in the Sea Sprite bombing.
That's her?
Yeah. Why?
Vinnie was in the Maloof suite today
telling Amalia that he thought the motel owner's daughter
must have the missing ring.
Vinnie said he was gonna lean on her,
but her family was in Paris for spring break.
Ugh. I'm gonna have to pay Vinnie a visit.
Well, if that pisses you off,
then you don't want to know what Amalia's paying him.
Three grand a day.
- Christ. - Yeah.
Hey, I heard from my buddy at the base.
Sounds like he has a lead on Maloof's blackmailer.
I'm gonna head down there tomorrow.
- You should lead with the good news. - Mm.
So, what are you doing tomorrow around 5:00?
Why?
Because Jane said she can see us then.
I must have missed the part
where I said I would go see your therapist.
That word doesn't even sound right.
It's more like... talking to a friend.
I don't pay my friends.
I don't either. Insurance covers it.
But Jane thinks it would be beneficial to our relationship
to see her together.
Logan, I admire your dedication to self-discovery.
- You sure? - Somewhat.
But I'm absolutely fine with where I've landed.
Are you?
- Ohhh. - You're crazy!
I'm gonna take a shower.
Ohh.
What's wrong with watching TV and having sex?
That's therapy for me.
I'm gonna go see some naked ladies
and scare a buffoon! You wanna come?
You say somethin'?
Veronica?
No, no, I will not go to the Champagne Room with you.
Do I have money? Yes. I got a lot of money.
But I can tell by the pitter-patter of your little footsteps
that you're a little light in the caboose
and, uh, the ladies I take to the Champagne Room
are a lot of things, but light in the caboose is not one of 'em.
Oh. Hey, Veronica.
This place has a Champagne Room?
You know what?
It's that air of superiority, that patronizing tone,
that has sparked a political backlash, okay?
White men. We're not gonna take it anymore, V-Chip.
Right, guys?
Uh, you run a business out of a strip club.
I can't help but feel superior.
Also... yeah, the results are in. I am superior.
We're at a titty bar.
That means I win.
So... heh heh... what do you want?
I am hereby issuing a restraining order for Matty Ross.
You are to stay at least 200 feet away at all times,
or risk me doing something mean to you.
Okay, Katniss.
_
Uh, Veronica, you can't use your phone in...
I know, I just need...
Put the phone away.
Put. The. Phone. Away.
- I heard you! - Tried to tell ya.
How do you use this place as an office
if you can't use your phone?
I can use my phone.
By the way...
what you're charging the Maloofs is an outrage.
Well, Mrs. Maloof let me know
what the number two P.I. outfit in town was charging,
and I had to adjust my rates.
Plus all the up-charges.
Up-charges?
Yeah. Photocopying, mileage,
trackin' down a couple of Mexicans.
What makes you think that Matty knows where the ring is?
Well, process of elimination.
You know, I talked to everyone else
who woulda had a chance to take it,
and no one's seen it.
And then I was watching the news coverage of that night,
and there's this girl... walkin' through the crime scene,
bendin' down, pickin' up stuff.
Would you like a dance, Vinnie?
I would indeed.
Bye, Veronica.
The good ol' days,
it was wall-to-wall dicks and chicks in here,
but now look at us.
You want a slice? It's Cho's sweet and sour pork pizza.
I can't lie, I'm gonna miss this in Chattanooga.
No, thanks.
You were telling me about the accident last year.
Yeah. Mike, he was our brewmaster,
he comes in one day, starts tellin' me that the boil kettle is ma...
that's this, um... here, I'll just show ya.
Mike says it's makin' this crazy noise
and it's spittin' out steam all over the place,
and he tells me to go get this wrench.
And he's real pissed off
'cause he says somebody's messed with his tank.
So I go to get the wrench, and that's when I hear the boom.
Um, the relief valve, that's this little doohickey right here,
apparently it just blew,
and it killed Mike instantly.
Veronica Mars.
I'm a private investigator.
I'm looking into the recent bombings here in Neptune.
I need to talk to Darren Silva, Campbell Davis,
and Blake Long.
Yeah, sorry, they're not here.
Well, their cars are here.
So you can either take me to them
or count on the police receiving a noise complaint about this house
every Saturday night for the next year.
The bombings?
What would I know about the bombings?
What happened that spring break night three years ago
when your buddy Patrick Hatcher died?
What?
I think you heard me.
What does that have to do with these bombings?
It was an accident.
We were all shitfaced, and...
yeah, we all learned a valuable lesson.
You're not really a P.I. Who sent you?
Was it the Lambdas?
Hats off, Lambdas.
I'm a P.I., Mr. Davis.
Yeah, if you say so.
So what's your scam?
You gonna talk to me about some uggo I took to bone town?
Tell me she's pregnant?
Is that necklace a... a camera there?
You suck, Lambdas!
They're domestic lagers, they all taste the same.
Now pick one, turn around,
and talk to me about the night Patrick Hatcher died.
Look, whoever you are,
my dad's a lawyer and he told me not to talk to anyone.
So leave me the hell alone.
♪ 'Cause I'm high on forever ♪
♪ Always together ♪
♪ And I'm coming down ♪
♪ 'Cause it's starting to hurt ♪
♪ Starting to hurt ♪
Thank you, Neptune.
Something I can help you with?
Blake Long?
Yeah, that's me.
Got a minute?
Yeah. Sure. What's... What's up?
What can you tell me about
the night three years ago when Patrick Hatcher died?
You!
Get out. Now.
Now!
Little early for that.
Oh, but I finished my homework, Mom.
Ya see what I did there? I called you Mom.
It's funny because my mom was also a judgmental shrew.
Set up a trust fund for P.W.'s kid.
Use a Cayman account. Enough to cover college.
P.W.?
Yeah. Perry Walsh.
I sure as shit know who P.W. is, Dick.
Leaving messages like this for me,
messages where you ask me to set up a trust fund
for the kid of a guy suspected of bombing a building
that we are desperate to buy,
is a very good way to end up back in prison.
- That's why I used initials. - What?!
A ten-year-old could figure that out.
Come on, Dick, we're suspects.
Pizza guy is announcing that we're responsible.
Keith Mars is sniffin' around.
Every time his daughter looks at me it's with spite in her eyes.
Hey, if you had supported the plan in the first place,
it wouldn't have gone off the rails
and I never would have had to ask Perry Walsh to do what he does.
Or you could have offered Ross another million.
He would've sold you the Sea Sprite
and those four people would still be alive.
Yeah, well, that would have been overpaying,
and I never overpay.
Look, the bomb was supposed to go off in the middle of the night.
It was just supposed to be a warning to Sul Ross,
but, well, shit happens.
The internet went down and... messed up the timer.
Don't judge me. It's not like your hands are clean in all this.
Shit, I know you're the one who got rid of Perry Walsh.
You know that?
What, you think I'm stupid?
Sarah, hi. Keith Mars.
Was hopin' to get a few minutes with Big Dick.
Is he expecting you?
I was just in the neighborhood.
Mr. C, there's a Keith Mars here to see you.
Without an appointment.
Show him in, Sarah.
Right this way.
Keith! Come on in!
Mr. Casablancas.
Clyde, hey! What a bonus.
- How are ya, young man? - Pretty good.
What are you doin' here, come down to see
about some new retail space?
Go ahead, have a seat.
I'll only take a minute.
But don't tell my client, because it's gonna appear as an hour
- on the invoice. - Your secret's safe with us.
Yeah, it's just, uh...
since that pizza guy made that accusation
at the City Council meeting,
my client's been on me, "Have ya checked out Casablancas?
Is it true he's buying up all those properties?"
It's a load of horse shit, Keith,
- you know that. - I know, that's what I told 'em.
I said, "Hey, he might run off with your money,
but the man's not a killer."
- Hm. - So here's what I came to ask.
- Shoot. - Central Moon Limited.
Skyburst Resources Limited.
Pentalink Commercial Limited.
Those names mean anything to you?
Mm, nuh...
Those are all subsidiaries of Team Casablancas Realty.
Oh, yeah. I thought they sounded familiar.
LLCs are like ex-girlfriends. There's too many to remember.
We had to face facts, Keith.
We have an image problem at Team Casablancas.
Small business owners don't wanna sell to this...
tall, tan, handsome, Maserati-drivin' prick.
You know, Keith, one of those bombs when off 50 yards from my son.
You tell your clients that.
Yeah, right. That's right.
The volleyball match. Veronica was there.
- Yep. - I'll tell them that.
This job...
sometimes I feel like I'm prostituting myself.
But that should get 'em off this tangent.
Gentlemen, thanks for your time.
Hey, uh, Clyde here tells me you've been seeing
some of our favorite doctors. Any news?
Another week or two, I should hear.
And truly, thank you for that.
You need anything, I'm your guy.
Oh, uh... did ya hear?
Pizza guy is telling people he found a duck in his bed.
Seems the type.
Maybe he had it comin'.
You just connected us to the shell companies.
Maybe you don't understand the concept...
He knew, Dick.
He knew. That's why he asked.
He just wanted to see if you were gonna lie about it.
What'd you do with him, Veronica? Where is he?!
Are you asking, "Where in the world is cabrón Juan Diego?"
You're not funny.
Weren't you worried about him going to prison and getting shot?
He's safe now. You're welcome.
He's his family's main earner.
His mom's been on my ass about lost income
ever since he disappeared.
She sounds like a lovely woman.
We can't all be like you.
Practically perfect in every way.
Sure you can. It's easy.
First, stop working on behalf of the richest asshole in Neptune
in a plot to drive you and your people out of town.
Sorry, does the truth hurt?
You need a spoonful of sugar to make that medicine go down?
I wake up every day...
tryin' to figure out a way to take care of my people.
But you? You've got degrees
from Stanford and Columbia
that you don't even use.
You'd rather stay in this town that you say you hate,
tasing teenagers and makin' 'em wet their pants.
You had a wife and a daughter and a legit business,
and you pissed it all away.
I got shot, Veronica.
Some rich white lady shot me
and I got arrested!
Yeah, that was shitty.
And I was there for you.
And so was my dad and so was Cliff.
But you were weak.
Just go. Get outta here. Go be a low-level hood.
But know this: that is how I'm gonna treat you.
And when you are run out of this town,
don't forget, I told you so.
Okay, Veronica.
Is this a bad time, or... ?
Go ahead. She's all yours.
I'm s-surprised you're here.
I didn't see your car outside.
Uh, Logan's using it. What... What do you...
I was checking in, seeing if you followed up
on that thing that I told you?
My dad hit Big Dick and Clyde with the "prostitute yourself" clue,
and neither of them flinched.
Just means they were ready for it.
We're pretty certain they were responsible for the duck,
but it's possible said duck is just retribution
for standing up at a City Council meeting
and calling 'em murderers.
I suppose.
But what can we do to help?
I mean, we have a stake in this now.
A five percent stake.
Well, that's a lot of pizza deliveries.
How are Murderheads at deep background checks?
Deep background is where we excel.
Okay. You know the Hearst fraternity Pi Sigma?
Yeah, but, ya know, Cho's Pizza doesn't really deliver there anymore.
Lot of issues over the years.
All right. One of 'em died at a beach party
three springs breaks ago.
I visited the three buddies who were with him that night,
and they all clammed up.
Uh, what's the connection to the spring break bomber?
I don't know. But they're guilty of something.
Find out everything you can about these three guys.
Consider it done.
You're kidding, right?
I break a shitload of government regs, risk a court-martial,
for... milkshake money?
Re-gifted milkshake money at that.
- Hm. - But I figured saving you
from certain death in that firefight in Mukalla
was also worth something.
Hm.
Name and address of your hacker.
Thanks for this, man. Enjoy those shakes...
- Hm. - ... and being alive.
Dude's name popped up on neo-Nazi watch lists
and with the sorts of pro-gun organizations
that think the NRA are a bunch of libtard pussies.
So, if you're gonna pay him a visit... be packin'.
Logan Echolls. I'm with the Office of Naval Intelligence.
- Are you Barton Netherfield? - Yeah.
We traced a suspicious IP address
- to this... - Goddamnit!
Junior!
So... how'd you pull it off?
- How'd I... - Congressman Maloof.
You neutered that Muslim cuck. You beat us to the punch.
That's just what we needed, a Manchurian Candidate
taking his orders from the mullahs,
infiltrating the highest levels of our government. Am I right?
Yes, sir.
So then, tell me. How'd you do it?
- Y-You're gonna laugh. - Hm.
Three years ago my humanities class took a trip to Suckramento
when Maloof was a state senator.
Dumb-ass had a sticky note on his computer with the password.
You know what Maloof's into, right?
- He's a submissive. - Hm.
Th-These girls make him grovel before they'll even, like,
take off a glove.
"Please, please, please!"
H-He doesn't get to touch himself
until some 20-year-old Ukrainian girl
gives him permission.
Pathetic, right?
So, ever since I got recordings of Maloof jerking it,
I've owned him.
Yes, I'm gonna pass on that five,
but while we're on the topic of numbers,
how do you feel about ten years in prison, Junior?
What?
I need you to erase every recording you have,
every piece of code linked to Maloof.
Then you're gonna send him an email saying you found Jesus,
you've seen the light and changed your errant ways, hallelujah.
And I swear...
if you ever contact Maloof again for any reason,
if he gets so much as a two-star Yelp review,
I will drag you down to Guantanamo.
You think Maloof's clean?
Then why'd he transfer a ton of Bitcoin
into the accounts of these two?
I did some digging.
They're killers for a Mexican drug cartel.
You were gone when I got up.
I went for a run.
You wanna talk about the other night?
Nope.
Okay. So, I learned something today.
Finnish is derived from Russian?
No. Dogs have 42 teeth.
Your client, my employer,
paid two cartel hitmen a little over $100,000 in Bitcoin.
- What?! - I visited Maloof's blackmailer.
He's a 17-year-old white nationalist living outside of Bakersfield.
He just explained to me at great length
that cryptocurrency is, in fact, traceable.
These are the guys.
I saw this guy.
In the parking lot of Weevil's body shop.
So what does it all mean?
No idea.
Oh. Vinnie said something about Maloof hiring him
to find a couple of Mexican guys.
But why hitmen? And why the money?
Ya done good, kid.
- You might have a future in this racket. - Hm.
- I definitely owe you one. - I'd like to cash in now.
How 'bout...
you and me...
I'm liking it so far.
- Picture this. The two of us... - Mm-hm.
... gettin' busy...
getting in touch with our feelings?
You're talking about couples therapy.
Sorry.
I mean, "Hangin' with Jane."
Hey. May I join you in the cool kids room?
- I gotta get to work. - Okay.
- See ya, Keith. - Yeah.
Something wrong?
Nothin' a strip club can't fix.
Excuse me?
What? You're always saying
we don't do enough father-daughter stuff.
I'm standing at the urinal,
and the guy three stalls down screams!
I rush over to help...
and it's goddamn Paul Ryan.
He was in a hurry to get back for a vote...
Probably to kill health care.
... and he'd zipped too fast.
There's Something About Mary-style?
Yes. Indeed.
And that's how I got him to bring my farm bill to the floor.
Wait a minute. Did you help him unzip?
Excuse me.
This is Logan.
Yes, sir.
Mogadishu?
_
Yes, sir. Thank you.
I'm sorry for how abrupt this is,
but I've been called back to active duty.
I need to leave immediately.
- How long will you be gone? - I never know.
But I'll make some calls in to my security contacts before I deploy,
get the ball rollin' on my replacement.
That's a tough life, man. Yanked away without warning?
Tough part is tellin' my girlfriend.
Thank you for everything, Logan.
Yeah.
Hey. Hang loose, bro.
That's gonna get old, Alex.
Someday.
Mrs. Maloof. It's been a pleasure.
Hm.
_
What?
So you wanna know where to find Los Desperados,
dos hombres peligrosos...
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, Veronica.
Sin teléfono. No, no, no, no.
Put it down.
Los misteriosos mexicanos, los chicos del sur...
I have a question for you, though. I have one question.
¿Dónde está la biblioteca?
Ha ha ha ha ha ha. What's in it for me?
We'll rescind our ethics complaint
filed with the California Board of Security
and Investigative Services.
Keith, I didn't even know you were here. Hi.
I have not heard about such a complaint.
Yet.
How about this.
We won't explain to Mrs. Maloof
that she is paying the highest rate
that any human being has ever paid for investigative services.
Vinnie, where are the two Mexican guys you found for the Maloofs?
Well, you drive a hard bargain, Hot Mars.
Let's say Maloof's teenage blackmailer is right
and Maloof did pay these two killers.
- Okay. - What does that mean?
Well, if these guys arrived in Neptune
before the Sea Sprite explosion,
it means one thing...
That our congressman client paid them to kill
his little brother's assumed gold-digging fiancée Tawny Carr...
and pizza guy's a genius.
That's what I thought at first,
but these guys work for a cartel boss
who lost his nephew in the bombing.
That's too much of a coincidence.
So rival cartel wants to send enemy a message,
hires these guys to kill El Despiadado's loved one?
A nephew by marriage?
I guess they didn't want to send a very strong message.
What if they came up after the Sea Sprite bombing?
Then they're supposed to kill the bomber.
They think it's Maloof.
Maloof buys them off? Possible.
We'll know more when we drop by their hotel room tomorrow.
Unh!
Logan, I'm home!
I'm back from a strip club!
Never touch me again! Men disgust me.
_
Hey, I got called in.
Shit.
So I know things have been weird
since I asked you to marry me.
Confession: It wasn't so much that I loved you
and wanted to spend the rest of my life with you,
it's just that your dad promised me his milking goat,
two bolts of Spanish silk,
and .1 acre on the alley side of his estate.
No man could walk away from that.
Dowry or no dowry, I still want to marry you.
Give it some thought while I'm away
and I'll Skype you as soon as I'm able.
I love you. Bye.
Mm.
Hey.
Excuse me.
I'm sorry to bother you,
but I'd like to see the seashell exhibit this afternoon.
Can you point me in the right direction?
Shit.
I can tell you how to get there by bus, but... but I don't drive.
They can help you in the office, though.
Good luck.
Umm...
moahhhhhh!
- Ahhhh. - Oh, my God.
Oh, my God, are you... are you okay?
- Help! Help! - I'm calling 9-1-1.
There's a man having a heart attack at the Happy Nite Lodge.
- The Happy Nite Lodge. Yes. - Happy Nite Lodge?
- Uhh. Ohhh! - Um, yes.
- Ohhh! Oh, my God! - Yes, that's right.
Hey. Are you okay? Hey!
- Old man! Look at me! - What? Yes!
I'm fine.
It's ju... Yahh.
Wooh! It's just a dizzy spell.
Just a dizzy spell.
Never mind.
I'll help him back to his room.
Sure hope you're not on the second floor.
Is there someone in your room who can take care of you?
My daughter is usually pretty helpful.
Shit!
What happened?
Your Mexican boyfriend tell you he's married?
Why you two such pigs?
Clean up after yourselves!
You'd think I was livin' under her roof, huh?
I got fired, asshole!
What?! You been there for two years!
He fired Estella too, and she's been there a lot longer.
Why?
There's no customers anymore. Not with all the bombings.
Same thing all over town.
No one's hiring. Everyone's letting people go.
Okay, okay, don't worry. Listen.
I'm makin' plenty of money right now.
I can take care of the family. It's gonna be okay.
- What about Estella? - Estella ain't family.
Why don't you hire me at your shop?
No. No way.
Look, it's like you said.
Everything ain't strictly legal. It's not gonna work.
- I need the money, Eli. - No. No.
I'm too old to have you supporting me.
Come in!
Oh. Alonzo.
Yo, what's up, man.
- Beer? - Yeah, sure.
Claudia? Two beers. Please.
Yeah, I saw Eli's blonde crush at the motel today.
The... Wh... Wh-What blonde crush?
Veronica Mars.
Oh. Oh, yeah, that's... that's my crush.
Just love her to death.
What was she doin' at the Happy Nite?
Pretty sure she was snooping around Alonzo's room.
Who was in my room?
Cute blonde private eye. You saw her at Weevil's shop.
You sure? Or you're pretty sure?
I-I'm not positive.
Some gimpy old bald guy collapsed nearby,
and I was tryin' to help him, and...
Old bald guy with a limp?
- Yeah. - That was her dad.
She was definitely in your room, man.
Hm?
What are you gonna do?
I'm gonna pay her a visit at some point.
See what she wants.
I don't know what it says about me
that after I found out Logan was gone again
for some undisclosed period of time,
the person I wanted to see, share my frustration with,
was the same person I was spying on,
trying to determine whether she was a murderer.
Tequila should do the trick.
So...
... you have no idea when you'll see him again?
Last time it was six weeks.
Sometimes it's a couple days. You never know.
- Hm. - Hm.
His therapist, Jane,
told him this story about elephants in Mozambique
who have evolved without tusks so that poachers don't hunt them.
Symbolic of... ?
Some shit about relationships having to evolve
to eliminate the destructive gene in their DNA.
So what's the destructive gene in your relationship?
I think it might be me.
I think I'm the tusk.
No. I'm the poacher.
No. No, the tusk.
Oh, yeah, you're the tusk.
And I say that as someone who's been gored.
Leo!
Fancy finding you at Comrade Quacks.
I didn't know you tried to pick up drunken college girls
when you got off duty.
Y'know, it's just been so long since I've had a hobby,
but now let's just say that I know
all the names of the raunchy drinks.
- Barkeep! - Yeah?
Let's get a Bend Over Shirley, a Sex On My Face,
and I will have a Cocksucking Cowboy.
And make 'em doubles, because we came to play.
- You got it. - Hello, Leo.
- Hello. - You two know each other?
Oh, yeah, we go way back.
He interviewed me about the bomb in my toilet.
Yeah, I really got her to open up.
I know things about that toilet bomb
that no one on this planet has heard.
Yeah, your boy's good.
We're drinking. Veronica's man ghosted her.
He didn't... H-He didn't ghost me, he just...
Y'know, I-I-I-I don't care, okay?
I'm not Perez Hilton. I'm a federal agent.
Now tell me everything you found out about that tent fire
and Chattanooga Charlie's explosion.
I knew it. You left out those folders for me to find
so I'd do free legwork for you?
I prefer to think of it as you doing your patriotic duty.
Wait a minute. How did you know I was here?
Happy accident.
I just come here for the buffalo wings and funnel drinks.
You planted a tracker on my car?
All right.
The funnel drinks and the buffalo wings, those were accidental.
The tracker was on purpose, and I put it in your bag.
- Here are your drinks. - Okay, here we go. Drink time.
- Ah. Yeah. - There you go. Let's do it.
Okay.
- Mm! - Ladies... to booze.
To booze.
- To booze. - To booze.
Excuse me. Sorry.
- Oh, wow. Wow. - My bad.
♪ You've just got to be strong ♪
♪ Just stop, 'cause I really love you ♪
♪ Stop, I'll be thinkin'... ♪
I cheers to that. Yeah.
♪ And let love keep us together ♪
♪ Like it really rough guy ♪
♪ Just can't get enough guy ♪
♪ Chest always so puffed guy ♪
♪ I'm that bad type ♪
♪ Make your mama sad type ♪
♪ Make your girlfriend mad type ♪
♪ Might seduce your dad type ♪
♪ I'm the bad guy ♪
So then Walter tosses the ringer out of the car
and makes the Dude take the wheel,
- and then he rolls out of the car... - With an Uzi.
Yeah! Well, they're being chased by nihilists on motorcycles.
I don't believe this is a real movie.
The Big Lebowski?
No, I believe The Big Lebowski's a real movie,
I mean, I've seen posters and everything,
but I just don't believe you've seen it.
I think you ate some magic mushrooms...
Okay. I am...
appalled that you haven't seen The Big Lebowski.
And please don't take this personally, but... you're dead to me.
Wouldn't be the first time.
I can't remember the last time a boy walked me home.
Oh, we are a full-service FBI.
If you have any ironing you need done...
take this in, zee collar is flippity-flap.
- I was tryin' to do a German accent. - Was that it?
Aaah! Jesus Christ! What the hell!
Matty.
Matty, this is Leo.
Leo, this is Matty, my protégée.
Hey!
Okay, so... don't shoot her?
Good. The paperwork would take all night. Uh, I'm gonna hit it.
You got me home safe.
- Wear that merit badge with pride. - Okay.
So have I met all your boyfriends now, or are there more?
I thought you declined my invitation for lodging.
I guess you still have to pay the electricity bills
even if you're the orphaned teenaged owner
of a recently bombed two-star motel.
They cut your power?
Yep.
Feel like singing a little Motown into that spatula?
No.
Me neither. I'm gonna go to bed.
Couch is yours.
There are blankets in the closet.
Never have children!
Come on, Alex. We can get a quick workout in before lunch.
This is all the exercise I need.
- Yes? - Mr. Maloof.
My name is Clarence Wiedman.
Logan Echolls left word you needed a new bodyguard?
I appreciate you coming, Mr. Wiedman.
- Mm-hm. - But truth is, I don't need a bodyguard.
- The threat has been, uh... - Eliminated?
I wouldn't put it that way, but we do seem to be out of danger.
I'm glad to hear it, Congressman.
And please send a bill for your time to my office.
- That won't be necessary. - Oh, I insist, I insist.
Look here.
It's your lucky day, Congressman. You get to meet Allah.
Daniel! Daniel! Oh!
GSW. Possible pneumothorax.
Neptune Grand, eighth floor.
Daniel. Daniel.
Daniel...
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --