How you doing, Charlie?
Oh, my nerves couldn't take eight shows a week.
It's okay to be relieved that the show is over.
Means more time for us.
Your aunt sold the apartment?
I have to be out in four weeks.
Bloody Mabel Mora.
There is nothing more tantalizing
than an unhinged, murderous beauty.
I'm re-imagining Death Rattle
in the most Oliver Putnam way.
Death Rattle Dazzle!
A Death Rattle Musical!
As we look at the cast,
we are faced with an unsettling truth.
Any one of them could be the killer.
You're not supposed to be here.
There was someone in his dressing room.
The night that Ben died,
he was holding someone else's handkerchief.
We need to find out
who in the cast doesn't have theirs.
That could be our killer!
Kimber…
I'm so sorry I made everything messy between us.
I fucked up.
But I'm gonna make it right.
I really wanted to give you my hanky,
but I must have thrown it away.
New York.
It's not exactly famous for self-care.
In this city, we push, we shove,
we occasionally urinate on one another.
But do we spend enough time loving ourselves?
Maybe not.
This is the whole apartment?
I know.
Feels like a palace.
460 square feet all to yourself.
But you can create a sanctuary.
When I created my sanctuary,
I invested in fluffy towels,
a fleet of soy candles,
and a jade egg that is currently nestled in my privates.
It's about creating a safe space.
And the rent?
4,800 a month.
Plus utilities. And maintenance fees.
Also, you'll probably wanna slip the angry guy
who sleeps on the front steps a fiver
anytime you come home,
just to keep the peace.
But, all in all, it is a steal.
Last year, when I stepped down from my podcast
after a difficult moment with a coworker…
Poppy, you fucking bitch!
Sorry. Edit that out. Thank you. S…
Don't murder someone and try to frame me for it, that's…
Okay, I was kidding. Um, I'm… I am just kidding.
Okay, anyway.
Some people said I was canceled.
Well, if getting canceled means
spending a year learning to live in alignment with your dharma,
then yes.
Call me canceled.
I'm at peace.
Because during that time,
I cultivated something important.
My self-care rituals.
So, what do you do, Ms. Mora?
I-I'm just trying to figure out how you'd use the space.
Perhaps it's a love nest to share with a partner.
Or a home office to launch your dream business.
Or maybe you just wanna throw fabulous dinner parties.
I'm not really the dinner party type.
Hm. Well, you must have something you love.
Everybody does.
Maybe your ritual is journaling.
Or a walk in the woods.
For me, I start every day bathing in mud
from the healing soil of the Pacific Palisades.
So, I'm not trying to pressure you,
but there's a lot of heat on this one.
So if you want it, I'd start gathering your paperwork.
You know, pay stubs, tax returns,
maybe a letter from your current landlord.
I'm pretty sure I definitely have all those things.
For sure.
Rituals ground us,
offering calm in a world of chaos.
But love a ritual too much,
and it can become an obsession.
And before we know it,
the ritual that once healed us has become our undoing.
So! You ready to move on this?
Totally.
Oh.
No, this one's not me.
They're so peaceful. Mm-hmm.
And so many. Mm.
Sixty-two, did you say?
That's the sweet spot.
Sixty-one, you wonder if you're one fish short
and 63, you're a crazy fish lady.
Is it too much?
Too much fish?
Too much everything.
Me moving in, my aquarium,
my trampoline, my exercise balls.
You know I like to roll from room to room.
You don't feel suffocated?
- No, ma'am! - Okay.
Wide-open airways!
Lungs like a baby!
Joy, this is your space now.
Oh, Charlie! I can't believe it!
Oh God!
Thirty-five years ago, you sat in my makeup chair,
and I thought to myself,
"This man dies alone."
And now, look at us.
Shacking up.
- It's a dream come true! Mwah! - Mm.
Let's celebrate. Wanna go to the fish store?
Oh. Uh, well, besides having already been there twice today,
I-I have to rehearse.
Oliver is all over me about this patter song.
- Patter song? - Well, a, a patter song
is a speed-singing, uh, information dump
they always give to the guy who can't sing.
- Uh-huh. - It's basically a rap.
I mean, do I look like a guy who can rap?
Well, I wouldn't say that's what your look screams,
if I'm honest,
but I've seen you do hard things.
How about Brazzos, season four?
When your character had to bust the drug dealers
at the roller skating rink, and you were like,
"I can't do a backward grapevine!"
Until you did!
Set medic said he never saw a femur snap in half like that.
That's not the point.
Charlie, you are a star.
And you didn't look bad in those roller shorts either,
huh?
Oh, look at me. Oh, getting all hot!
I'm gonna go cool off at the fish store.
- You gonna buy more fish? - I'm just gonna browse.
But probably, definitely yes.
We have a few minutes before rehearsal,
AKA a murderer walking into this room.
- Let's talk case. - If I may, a life update.
Oliver Putnam, long considered
New York's most un-land-able bachelor,
is in love.
That's right.
This merchandise off the market, bruh.
Ah! Loretta.
Whom you have yet to ask out.
Well, 'cause I'm workshopping the perfect date.
I mean, if I'm going to break my own rule
and date one of the cast members,
I have to do it with flair.
Uh, current vision,
lunch, the Russian Tea Room.
Or is that too Putin-y?
Now we've gotten exactly nowhere
on figuring out who pushed Ben down the elevator shaft.
So, I say we go back.
Go to the theater,
figure out if Ben's collapsing on stage was due to poison.
I think…
Is this gonna be about the case or Loretta?
- Loretta. - Then, zip it.
So if it was poison,
we actually have a decent suspect to look at.
Kimber.
Oh, Kimber!
I love it. It's so good.
Quick question. Does it have to be Kimber?
Uh, she's one of the few cast members
who can actually sing.
I take offense to that.
That was my intention.
I'm working on my vibrato. Listen.
Thank you, Ms. Merman.
Oh, a-and the thing about Kimber,
I just found out that she has
two million TikTok-y people.
Followers. I know, but…
Which is great press for our show.
Now our stage manager, on the other hand,
is a world-class grump
who has only 12 followers. Can we look in that direction?
Kimber was the only cast member
that didn't give Charles a hanky.
So she could have attempted to poison him at the theater.
And when that didn't work,
she pushed him down the elevator shaft. Make sense?
- Hey! I just had an idea! - Really?
What if we cut the patter song,
and I just do a look?
- Oh, dear lord. - Another detail on Kimber.
In the dressing room footage I saw,
it sounded like Ben was having a lover's spat
right before he collapsed on stage,
which would explain why
he apologized to Kimber at the party
for making things messy.
We have to find out if they were secretly dating.
Do you know who else is secretly dating?
Yes. You and Loretta. And by the way, you're not.
Yet. Whatever.
Your TikTok star has something the murderer needed.
A way to deliver the poison.
Y'all, you are probably asking yourself,
"Why does Ben Glenroy, CoBro, look like a 50-year-old baby?"
He's literally aging backwards, and I will tell you why.
Because he uses my anti-aging serum.
That's right, it's anti-aging, it's serum,
and you guys can have it, too.
Are you guys stalking my serum?
Oh! Uh, uh, yes, because we are all anti-aging.
Yes. Oh.
If you want, I can put you on a waitlist,
but ever since Ben signed on as unofficial spokesperson,
I can't keep it in stock.
People, this is rehearsal time.
Let's keep it on topic.
Yes, right.
Well, if everyone's here, let's kick it off
with Charles' patter song.
Wait. Wait, wait, what?
In front of… In front of everybody?
So, Charles, six weeks from now,
you'll be performing this in front of thousands,
so you might as well get used to the eyeballs.
Setting the scene. You, the Constable,
find yourself at the end of your metaphorical rope,
clinging to sanity
as you are interrogating
three improbable suspects.
Babies! Yes!
But, which of the Pickwick Triplets did it?
This one's a-a little tricky…
Tom, bring us in, please. Thanks.
That feels faster than it was yesterday.
Has it always been that fast?
Always been that fast, Charles.
Take it down just a little bit.
Oh, Mabel, y-you don't have to be here
because this is just boring play stuff.
Nope. Something is telling me I can't miss this.
May I step out to call my therapist?
Yes, of course, you can.
I-I-I don't know what happened.
M-My mind just, uh, went blank,
and I-I-I crossed over into this other realm.
Am I… Am I dead?
Am I-I on drugs? Am I dead and on drugs?
Bro, you went to the White Room.
The what room?
White Room. It's an actor thing.
A, a stage thing.
In TV, if you screw up, you get another take.
In theater, there's no net.
You blank out, that's it.
You're a polar bear in a global warming documentary,
hanging onto a tiny piece of ice in the middle of the sea,
waiting to die.
Happened to me in 2014.
I was doing a production of As You Like It in Wilmington.
I'll never know exactly what I did on that stage, but…
there are now pictures of my penis on the internet,
and I can only assume that's how they got there.
Okay, well, that's, uh… H-How do I stay out of it?
Look, I've dealt with anxiety.
Once I went to the White Room and woke up two days later
at a Papa John's in Yonkers. It's scary.
Uh, the trick is to find your happy place.
Okay, everyone. After what we just witnessed,
we need to take five.
Maybe years.
Oliver?
I wanna apologize for lying to you earlier.
When I asked to step out to call my therapist.
I don't actually have a therapist.
Just my cousin Moses Morris from State Farm,
who I call when things go wrong.
- He helps me. - Howard, not now.
So, I know that we're just recovering
from what just happened, and frankly,
I'm having a hard time making eye contact with you, Charles.
What did I do up here?
- Too soon! - Not ready.
But, we have to find the serum that Ben used on opening night
and test it for poison.
Do you think it's still in the theater?
Getting into the theater is a whole thing.
You know, Howard has a key,
and if he's not in the right mood,
he won't let us in.
He works for you, right?
Well, it's a complicated relationship.
Many layers.
Heard you referencing a layered relationship.
I assume you're speaking about me.
Howard! How would you feel
about letting us in the theater?
Are you investigating?
Because if you are, I need to know.
As the eyes and ears of this production…
It's nothing. We just left…
a sweater.
You like sweaters, right?
Girl, you know I like sweaters.
It was actually one of my sweaters.
Let me guess.
A fluffy number?
Vaguely shapeless?
Splashes of yellow and orange that have no business working,
but, somehow, they work. My God, do they work!
Jesus H. Christ, I love your sweaters!
Go on, I'm listening.
Well, then you wouldn't want one stuck in the theater, would you?
I mean, think of the moths.
Moths, moths.
Just burrowing in the fabric,
chewing holes.
Oh, the whole structure of the sweater just falls apart…
No, no, stop! Stop, Mabel! No.
I'll let you in, okay?
Thank you.
Let's get that sweater.
Okay.
You're a genius. Absolutely.
And then Jonathan told me
I need to find my "happy place."
A happy place!
Do I even have one of those?
I-I-I don't know, Joy. I'm all turned around!
Aw, you're probably just hungry.
Why don't you take that stress
and channel it into one of your gorgeous omelets?
That's your happy place.
And the way you make them
looks like they should be on the cover of
Breakfast Magazine…
Which does not exist.
Joy! I did it!
I did the song!
What?
I know the trick now.
All I have to do is make an omelet.
Huh?
Yeah! For years, I made omelets to relax,
and my brain associates that with comfort.
I know I'm not mentally healthy,
but that's okay because I can sing the song.
Charlie, this is no bueno.
The omelet was a one-time stress release.
You thinking you need the omelet,
that's a hard no. Hard no! That is a crutch.
Yeah, it's a crutch! That's good, right?
Look at me, lover.
You have me now.
I'm the omelet.
Say it.
You're the omelet.
I'm gonna look out for you, Charlie.
Just like I did with Ben Glenroy.
He knew if he touched one hair
on your gorgeous little head,
he was gonna have to deal with me.
Now, let's go to bed.
I've been reading the Kama Sutra
and we haven't done the antelope yet.
- Okay, I'm just gonna make one more ome… - Charlie.
The antelope.
OLIVER Oh God!
Smells like Jerry Orbach's laundry basket.
Which I once had a nap in. Long story.
- What is all this? - Oh, just opening night gifts.
They've all just been sitting here, you know?
Like flowers and pastries, open bottles of wine.
It's like a horror movie.
Which is something that I could take Loretta to on our date!
But should I make it scary?
A-A-Are dates fun when everyone's panic sweating?
For the love of God, Oliver, focus.
- Oh, sorry. - Here we go.
What the hell are you doing here?
Sorry if I was rude before.
I just didn't know you guys were coming.
Does anyone want nettle leaf tea?
It makes your hair grow fast as fuck.
Do you… live here?
No, this is just where I run my beauty empire.
Ooh! Don't tell Howard I copied his key.
I will give you some of my proprietary collagen powder.
Not for free. Twenty percent off?
Uh, it-it-it's quite alright. Um…
Unless, can it do anything about my jowls?
I wanna be firmer. Oh, yeah.
Girl, you can't stop thinking about my serum, can you?
Uh, y-yeah.
I mean, who wouldn't be obsessed
with Ben's favorite skin product?
Right. He did use it religiously.
- Even on opening night? - Of course.
And the bottle that he used,
would that… be this one?
Guys?
You here?
Warning, I smell like eggs.
Is that Charles? Uh…
You know, he experiences these little mini-strokes.
It's nothing to be alarmed by.
- We'll just be right back. - Yeah.
- I didn't know Kimber was here. - Neither did we.
Guys. We've gotta get her talking.
Can I trust you?
Do you even know how to talk to someone my age?
I definitely don't. And you don't count
because you have old lady energy.
Oh, she really does.
72 is where I'd put her. Maybe 75.
That's flattering, but I'll do this part.
I can just girl-talk.
- Can you? - Yeah.
I don't think so.
Really, just go hunt around Ben's dressing room for clues.
But he keeps his dressing room locked.
Ah, don't worry.
I brought my jimmy keys. See? I can be helpful.
You guys okay out here?
Hey, mama!
Yeah, we're like, uh, yass and work
and slay and yass
over here, like, yeah.
Yass, queens!
Mama? Mm-mm.
You're gonna love this. Technically, it is dog food,
but my kibble is a hundred percent human-grade.
Barley, chia seed, and essence of sod.
And a bunch of other shit.
It also helps with heartworm.
Thanks.
Do you need to get that?
No, it's okay.
So, you manage all this?
Businesses, TikTok, an acting career?
You know how it is.
Being our age in New York?
I mean, you have to hustle if you wanna make it here.
Right.
Well, I imagine that must be hard, juggling everything.
And a boyfriend.
Who said anything about a boyfriend?
Oh, there were… rumors.
You and Ben.
A show-mance?
You know, as I go on hour three
of watching you struggle with this lock,
it occurs to me that we should run the patter song.
Don't need to. I'm good.
You've never once been good.
I said I'm good.
Well!
Ugh, Jesus.
We're in a dead man's dressing room
filled with dead flowers.
Doesn't get worse than this.
Oh, actually, it does.
So, like everyone else,
you assumed I was sleeping with Ben?
It's okay.
It's all part of being
the young woman on the show.
The ingénue. Everyone thinks that you're out to bed the star.
And in a way, I was.
I'm confused.
It wasn't sex that I wanted. It was an endorsement.
One stupid post from Ben
about how he couldn't live without my serum.
I even wrote him the copy.
"I might be CoBro in the movies, but in real life,
I don't wanna walk around with snake skin."
Yeah, that could use some work.
It was a first pass.
The point is he promised that he'd help me,
and h-he made this whole thing about
empowering female entrepreneurs.
Then, he backed out at the last minute.
Which is why I felt fine
selling his opening night gift on eBay.
The hanky.
I got a few hundred bucks for it,
but…
now I feel guilty about giving away the only thing
that I'll ever have from him.
You know, Ben wasn't easy, but he could be sweet.
He was hard on himself.
Oh, my God, you should have seen him on opening night.
H-He was panicking about this red mark on his face.
Red mark? How did he get it?
I don't know.
But he called in someone else
to help him cover it up.
Meanwhile, I am drowning in this serum
that I can't sell to save my life.
Granted, it is just Vaseline mixed with club soda,
but I put it in a really cute bottle.
Kimber, this is really important.
Who was in Ben's dressing room with him?
I have no idea. But, whoever it was
was really talented because when he came out,
the red mark was gone.
Uh, hold that thought.
Holy shit.
Okay, whose lipstick is this?
I would imagine it belongs to our killer.
- I have a theory. - Yeah?
Goldie the wardrobe lady!
Why do you say that?
'Cause she's utterly replaceable.
It won't affect our show one way or another
if Goldie the wardrobe lady goes to jail.
The key here is to find a murderer
that won't cost me the Tony.
Great. That was a real help.
Apologies, I have to go home.
Joy keeps texting me photos of piranha,
and I'm slightly scared she bought one for our fish tank.
- You've got this handled, Mabel? - What?
Sure. I've got all of this.
Can we make this quick?
Mabel.
- I hug now. - I don't.
Nice transformation. I read about it.
Your nightly mud bath?
Did I say that? God, I am a hoot.
You know, it's amazing the amount of steaming horseshit
you can feed the American public if you tell them it's organic.
So, all of that was fake?
Your year of reading and learning
and "getting serious about breathwork"?
I did a lot of it.
I went on a silent retreat.
At one point, I squatted over a mirror
and celebrated my vulva.
But I think I've put my time in.
I figure two more weeks in these tunics,
and I can get back to doing what I really love.
Which is…?
Same as you. Murder.
Sit! Let me make you some tea.
There's something I wanna talk to you about.
Oh, come on. What else have you got to do?
Sorry, we're late. Our cats were having a play date.
Ah. You'll be happy to know
Sevelyn hit it off with Chopin.
It was a little awkward at first, but…
Hard to oversell just how
disinterested I am in this story.
Okay, let's get started.
Charles, I cannot wait to see your newly flawless patter song.
- Whoa! - Tom, if you will.
Here we go. Okay.
And Charles! Remember, these babies are homicidal.
- Sing. - Thank you, Tom.
I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.
What the hell is happening with your hands?
Oh, I'm just… I'm just keeping the beat.
It's a little choreo that I came up with,
and, uh, I think it adds a little zazz, don't you?
Sorry, were you whisking?
Why label it?
It's just th-the Constable coming through me.
I don't know what he's doing. H-He's got his own life.
Well, I hate it! Just sing.
Oh, but I think it'd be good…
Hands behind your back, Charles!
Thanks.
Well, my pants are still on, so that's a good sign.
I have never heard filth,
like what just came outta your mouth!
Tom is a Christian, Charles!
Take the day, Tom! Find a priest! Pray it out!
I'm sorry, Tom! I don't know… Shh!
I'm taking control of this situation now.
Step into my office!
It's this song! It's making me mental!
Is it the song?
Look, Charles, I'm no psychoanalyst…
although I did talk Idina Menzel off a literal ledge once.
Story for another time.
But I'm wondering if there isn't something more going on.
Like what?
Like Joy moving in.
That's a huge life change.
Ever since I met you, you've been alone.
Well, you've been alone, too.
Yes, but not in the sad, tragic way you were.
Alright.
I admit, I'm struggling.
I don't know what's wrong with me.
I wanna be the guy who can do this,
who can share his home with a woman,
and, if necessary, 62 fish.
That's a lot of fish.
It is, right?
Look, I'm gonna go against my instincts here
and say something nice to you.
Maybe you don't need to change.
Maybe you are who you are, and that's enough.
I suppose some people are meant to be alone.
And maybe I'm one of them.
But, how can I ask her to move out?
She just moved in.
You'll find the words.
Just keep it simple and don't overthink it.
Well, you could stand to take your own advice.
Hey, this moment is about your emotional shortcomings,
not mine.
Oh. And not about
you overthinking your big date?
Fine.
Send.
Here's the thing.
If I go back to true crime, it has to be strategic.
- That's where you come in. - Me? What the hell would I do?
Be my partner.
The Bloody Mabel Show produced by Cinda Canning.
I already have partners.
The old guys? No, they're busy,
putting together another bomb of a Broadway show.
Which leaves you where?
Also, what are you gonna do
when people stop keeling over at the Arconia?
Have you thought about that? No, no.
Bloody Mabel is already feeling very last season.
You might wanna monetize it soon,
or you will have missed the boat.
I might sell kombucha.
Or open boxes on YouTube. You know, do a side hustle.
It took you a year to paint a wall in your aunt's apartment.
Hustle is not exactly your middle name.
What I'm offering is structure.
A paycheck.
Look, you maybe need a comeback,
but I don't.
I'm deep in a case right now.
You're… Wait, what?
Ben Glenroy.
Oh, you lucky bitch!
It's like these murders just fall in your lap!
Of course!
Like you were just gonna stand by
and hope that the police got it right.
Well, I haven't gotten very far.
Our best lead just fizzled out.
You can crack this.
As long as you have the right partner.
Look, the guys are distracted.
And old.
Sometimes, they get food stuck on their chin
and they don't know it and I have to flick it off,
and that's kind of a bummer,
but I don't know.
They're my guys.
That's beautiful.
What about money? Money changes minds.
I'm gonna write you a check.
I don't want it.
What if I add another zero?
No.
Another?
No.
Okay, good,
because that's actually too much.
But think on it,
because that offer is still on the table.
The middle offer, not the final one.
I don't know what I was doing there.
So I told the fish, I said,
"Fish, you behave this week,
and I'm gonna get you a treat." And look!
Treasure!
We should talk.
You know, check in about how it's going with us,
uh, living together.
It's been 48 hours.
Well, you know, Joy, I've, uh,
I've always been, uh, living alone.
I mean, I've cohabitated here and there,
but even then, I found myself
mostly hiding in the bathroom,
waiting for the other person to leave,
so we wouldn't find ourselves
standing in the same room together.
You know, which, which can be so awkward.
Charlie, you are a grade-A weirdo,
but I'm good for you, and you're good for me.
It's like the fish.
It takes a minute to get the pH in the tank right,
but once you do…
What's your point, honey?
Oh, the point? Oh, well, uh, the point…
Whatever I did, I'm sorry.
Sorry? Charles-Haden Savage, I'd be honored.
The answer is yes!
I would love to marry you!
Well, th-this is a fun twist.
Congratulations?
Can you believe it? We're getting hitched!
You found my lipstick.
As if this wasn't already the best day of my life.
Nothing I hate more than an incomplete set.
Captioned by Point.360