Marshall, we need to talk with you.
I thought you wanted to give me more notes on the script.
Everyone's been hounding me about rewrites.
Every draft that Marshall turns in is worse than the last.
Loretta and I shall marry here in the Arconia.
Sazz!
There's something I need to talk to you about when you get a sec, huh?
- It's a little sensitive. - So, you don't know
who the target was?
The person who did this would have to be extremely fit.
A gifted athlete in the best shape of their life.
Sazz talked about a stuntman
on a movie called Project Ronkonkoma.
He was her protégé, but he had messed up pretty badly,
and he was harassing her.
The only ones who know what went down
are Sazz, Glen, and the director.
He's dead, my Glen.
Nicky Caccimelio has been reported missing.
We heard there was quite the snafu on Project Ronkonkoma.
The guy fucked up so bad, Sazz had to blackball him.
- Who was this protégé? - Here he is.
That kinda looks like...
Why does this script say it was written by Sazz Pataki?
A movie is a hundred people working together to tell one story.
That's right, Kincaid!
It's me, Uncle Brazzos,
and I can still send this investigation into a whole new direction!
Freeze! Tap in.
Tap in!
And action!
- I'm good! - Cut!
Check the gate!
Woo!
Nice job, Pataki!
Woo!
Every person on the crew,
their job is to help tell the story.
Some tell it with music.
Some tell it with props. Me?
I tell it with osteoporosis.
Sometimes, it doesn't sound terrible to tell a story the old-fashioned way.
Without breaking all my bones in the process.
But where to begin?
Well, I suppose it starts with finding your hero.
Hey, Sazz, you okay?
- All good, buddy. - Thank you.
I'm getting worse with heights. Uh...
Ah, I got you. Don't you worry about a thing.
As it turned out, we are all Tim Kono.
When you take your hero on a journey,
get him in all kinds of trouble,
but land him home safely?
Nothing better than that.
But happy endings are for movies and exotic massages.
Life can have very different plans.
So, the killer is Rex Bailey slash Marshall P. Pope
slash the stuntman slash the screenwriter slash
what the fuck is going on?
Where is the young one? We need a pliable brain on this.
I texted Mabel the minute we figured it out,
but she hasn't responded. Look.
How did you get that little accent mark on the E in protégé?
Oh, you press and hold down the letter you want the accent over,
then you get a list of accent choices.
- No kidding! - It's fun, right?
Yeah, Mabel taught me that.
You know,
every time we solve a murder, that's when the next body drops.
It's like when one murder door closes,
someone we know either gets stabbed, poisoned, or shot.
Why would you say that?
You know my wedding is tomorrow.
Loretta's on her way now, here to the murder building.
I wasn't saying it'd be Loretta.
Well, you were basically saying that, Charles.
Oh, my God.
My bride is gonna be the next murder victim.
It's so us. And to think, up until now,
my only worry was what our first dance should be.
And whether watching Loretta and I do a tango
might be too erotic for everyone to handle.
It's from Mabel.
"Call the police or come anywhere near her door
and I'll kill her"?
sync and corrections by solfieri www.addic7ed.com
Can you excuse me for a second? I'm just gonna go grab...
You're not going anywhere.
You're pretty fit for a writer.
Because you were a stuntman.
Sazz's protégé.
You stole her script, and then you killed her.
I can't believe I have to kill you, too.
It was just supposed to be Sazz, but now look at me.
Sniping, smothering, it never ends.
So, you admit you killed Glen.
I didn't want to.
I never want to, but it was only a matter of time
before he realized why I looked familiar.
I hate that I accidentally shot Zach Galifianakis.
He's so funny in The Hangover.
Don't fuckin' move, Mabel!
Okay.
Well, then,
you can kill me, but...
you're on your own with the whole rewrite.
Oh, I know what you're doing.
Y-You're trying to buy time. I-I'm not falling for that.
No, you're in charge of this...
whole thing. I just... Can I?
You have, um, Charles... logging onto AOL.
Yeah, 'cause he's old.
No, I've taught him better than that.
And then, you have Mabel... saying,
"You've got fail."
Are you sure you wanna go with that?
Fuck.
Fine.
W-We finish the scene, and then I'll kill you.
Shouldn't we be running to Mabel?
Not that I don't love watching you stare out a window like a sad war widow.
Oh, my God.
It was one person.
The ledge, that ledge.
It's been right there in plain sight all along.
Who the hell would walk out on that?
A murderous stuntman would.
That's how the shoe print got on the radiator!
That's how he did it in 12 minutes!
And it's the only way we can save Mabel.
- Abso... Wait, what? - Marshall said,
if we go to the door, he's gonna kill Mabel.
So, we walk along the ledge and smuggle her out.
This is actually really smart.
He'll never see us coming through the window.
Okay.
You can drop the word "us"
'cause ol' Ollie Putnam don't walk no ledge.
I need to do this.
I didn't save Sazz, but I can save Mabel.
Okay! It's really high up!
Wh-What if you do it from Vince's? I-It's right next door.
That is the first good pitch you've had since this whole thing started.
It took four seasons,
but now I'm cookin' with gas!
Oliver! Your chuppah arrived. Where are we placing it?
Lester, I have urgent business, so I need you to take over.
Now, I trust you completely, but just know
if you get anything wrong, I will destroy you.
What? All he does is let in murderers.
Oh! My bride's in the courtyard. Okay.
Charles! I got married in this courtyard, you know?
- Middle of the night with just the stars. - Yeah. Uh-huh.
And the fountain as our witness.
- Uh-huh. - I think it's good luck.
Lester, I told you when I moved in, I don't really do anecdotes,
but have a good day.
Eh, having a wedding. We'll have a good day, sure.
Oh! That's nice. Okay.
- You're here! - Oh! Oliver, oh, my God, my show!
I don't think I can marry you now.
- What? - Production's moving to New Zealand
because algorithm feels it's newer.
Yeah, so NORFBUN is gonna be NZFBUN,
and I have to move to New Zealand day after tomorrow!
Oh God, catch up when you can!
Okay, so, uh, m-maybe you can just quit.
- Oh, I can't quit. - Then, I will move!
Married people move for each other! Th-That's what we'll do, okay?
- Where are you going? - I-I will explain later.
Just go to my apartment, lock the door,
and don't answer it for anyone! And I love you.
Okay, left one in front, not the right.
- Oh. That's more difficult. - There you go. Yeah.
Oh, great timing! I'm just doing this new thing called exercise.
- You wanna join? - He hired me to be his trainer.
- Uh-huh. - We need to use your window!
Mabel's trapped next door with the killer.
- Oh God! - It's the movie writer, incidentally.
I told you it wasn't us.
We're just a bunch of cute weirdos who torched a body.
You want us to call the police?
- No, no, no. - No! He'll kill her if we do.
I will not be joining because I'm not insane,
but I will be contributing to today's caper
by creating a front door distraction.
Front door distraction. Now, is that a type of ding-dong?
It is, Rudy! Very good.
- Ding-dong. - Charles! Wait, wait, wait.
If you fall, angle your body away from my wedding. Everything's a rental.
- Oh... Okay. - Okay. Alright.
Yeah. I got it.
I got it... Watch it! Watch it! Oh...
- Ah! - Oh, Sazz.
Sazz, I need you.
Okay, ghost of Sazz.
Anytime you wanna tap in.
Anytime... Oh, I can't do it, Sazz.
Oh, I can't do it by myself.
That's why I'm here.
Now, be honest.
Are you on this ledge 'cause I'm moving to New Zealand?
I think you know I'm trying to save Mabel, so g-go back.
No, no, Charles, you're my ride or die.
And my strong preference is to ride.
So, scoot! Scoot.
I can't move my feet.
Yes, because you're looking down at certain death!
We gotta do this facing the wall.
Are you suggesting we pivot?
- We are in the sky! - Charles!
That is Mabel through that window. Now, you lost Sazz.
We can't lose her, too.
So, here we go, okay?
Now, spin on three. One.
Two. Three.
Spin!
Oh! Okay. Okay, yeah.
Excellent! The rest of the way, we merengue.
See, to me, this doesn't read as a dance moment.
Yes, but I realized it is my wedding dance.
So, uh, just watch and learn.
Step, drag.
- Step, drag. Step, drag. - Step, drag. Step, drag.
And I thought I didn't have rhythm. Ah!
Step, drag. Step, drag.
Go. Go. Go.
Come up with some fuckin' idea, like...
- Wait. - What?
If you're here, who's doing the ding-dong?
Hello! It's friendly neighbors Rudy and Vince.
We wanna borrow some sugar!
Uh, you know, like friendly neighbors do.
Uh, M-Mabel's not... Mabel's not here right now!
M-Maybe y'all wanna come back later?
We're making sugar chicken!
A-And it's... We've never done it before,
and we're trying to figure out anything that might work!
Do you have any corn on the cob? O-Or off the cob?
How about... What are those little pickles? What are they, they gherkins?
Or corbishons?
Cornichons.
- Cornichons? Cornichons! - Uh...
Lads, we're kinda busy right now!
Uh, well, it's whatever you have is really what we're looking for!
Thank God you're here.
- Yeah, like half a banana... - Charles!
We are not going inside.
Merengue back out here right now!
Frankly, there's no food in here and I don't understand...
- No. He killed Sazz. - ... what you're cooking!
Oh, that's alright! We'll just look!
Yeah, w-we'll just come on in, and we'll look around.
- We'll see what's there. - Please just leave us alone!
We're gonna go get a crowbar!
We're going to my apartment! We're gonna get a crowbar!
We're coming in no matter what, okay? We're coming in!
- Drop the gun! - What?
W-Wh-What is that?
It's Eva Longoria's 19-in-one Multitool.
At least four of the settings could kill you!
Okay, sit down!
You fake-bearded bastard! Sit down!
I need to know why. Why kill Sazz?
Because she blackballed you as a stuntman?
Sazz wrote the Only Murders movie.
- Sazz, a writer? - You stole the script from her?
Look, I tried to become a writer. I did what you're supposed to do.
Took my childhood trauma and tried to monetize it
by turning it into a screenplay.
And I had good trauma.
Picture this.
A dad who's a hunter forces his son to be a hunter, too.
And the kid is a perfect marksman.
But all he wants to do is write.
And when he leaves for Hollywood,
the dad gives him six months. Says...
"You're a killer, not a writer."
I mean, come on, y-you'd watch that, right?
- Well, depends on the casting. - Would I have to go to the theater?
I still haven't found time
- to watch The Wire. - No.
I wanted to prove him wrong, but nobody would touch my script!
Which is not my fault! Hollywood is broken!
See, now here, I see his point.
Why else would I not have an EGOT?
Freeze!
I-I was about to call it quits when I met Sazz.
She was the first person to be kind to me.
Sazz was kind to everyone.
After the Ron Howard incident...
and by the way, he overreacted...
uh, Sazz said my stunting career was over, but...
now I could get back to my writing.
Sh-She even offered to read the latest draft of my screenplay.
Sure!
I think I nailed it this time.
Oh, Rex. Man!
You inspire me, the way your words make me feel things.
So much so that I gave it a whirl.
You wrote something?
You're the only one who knows.
And my only copy.
And in the spirit of two writers being vulnerable...
Would you give it a read?
I didn't have high hopes. What did Sazz know about being a writer?
But then, I started into it.
And it was good.
Really fucking good.
Certainly better than anything I'd ever written.
Oh, you're done.
So?
That was the moment where I could have been a friend,
or I could have gone in a completely different direction.
It's...
not very good.
But everybody's gotta start somewhere, you know?
How could Sazz write something so great on her first try?
I-It wasn't fair!
I could make a copy and have a closer read and see if I can come up with some fixes.
Yes, please. That would be great.
I-It's just the...
It's all of it. How much of this are you married to?
So, I came up with a new name, which was actually the hardest part.
Eventually, I landed on Marshall P. Pope, wh-which is awesome.
- Is it, though? - Sounds like a judge.
After that, all I had to do was get the script into the right hands.
I sent it all around town. I knew someone would bite,
but I was just trying to get an agent.
Never in a million years did I think it would get greenlit.
A-And then fast-tracked?
But Sazz found out. She got shown the script
by some stunt friends who were looking for work on the movie.
I should have known something was up when she invited me over for a drink.
Come in.
Nice beard, Rex.
Thanks.
Have a seat.
Or should I call you Marshall?
The list of suspects wasn't long,
but you were the only person I let see the script.
Sazz, this just got outta hand so quickly.
I wanted to tell you, but...
No, you didn't! You told me the script was bad,
and then you stole it from me!
You know me, I can take a hit.
Nearly lost a leg during Police Academy 7.
But this?
This hurts way more.
Okay. I-I'm gonna call Bev Melon, and we can...
Bev what? Are you making up new fake names now?
That's her real name! Bev Melon f-from Paramount.
She bought our script!
This is not ours!
This is mine!
I hadn't even told Charles yet!
I wanted to ask his permission before I tried to sell it!
Do you see the mess you've made here?
I-I do, but... this movie is, is my dream.
I had a dream, too!
I had the dream to sell my script
and-and-and build a trampoline park in New Jersey!
- A what? - Never the fuck you mind.
Sazz, if you say something about this, I'll never live it down with my dad.
W-With anyone!
I don't know what I'll do if this gets out.
Rex, I don't trust you anymore.
Tomorrow, I'm gonna fly to New York
to see Charles make his Broadway debut.
And after, I'm gonna see him.
And I'm sorry,
but I gotta tell him.
Can you please not do that?
Out! Go!
I'm really sorry, Sazz.
Yeah, me, too.
What was I supposed to do?
Let her ruin everything I'd worked for?
And then, I remembered the Dudenoff apartment,
and I booked a red-eye.
Sazz had included this whole subplot in her first draft.
Extraneous, if you ask me, it's the first thing I cut,
but I knew there was an empty apartment
and what the code was to get in.
I couldn't do it.
It's okay. It's okay. You're not a killer.
You're a writer.
You're not a killer. You're a writer.
You're a writer. You're a writer.
No, I'm fucking not.
But... maybe... maybe to be a writer,
I had to become a killer.
Only she didn't die.
I had to think quick.
One reason I made a good stuntman?
No fear of heights.
I'm sorry it had to end this way. I just...
I need this.
Where's the script? The one with your name on it?
He's gonna get you.
Who? Who will?
My...
number...
one.
So, you watched her die,
and you threw her down the trash chute like she was garbage.
Think of it as her final stunt.
It's on the vibrator setting!
Dammit, Eva Longoria!
Charles, fix it!
Oliver!
Okay, next time, let's not have our killer be a professional stuntman.
There is no next time!
Maybe my dad was right.
This is my talent.
So, welcome to the end of your movie.
- God. - What? What?
No fucking way.
How did you get into my apartment?
I never left.
You've been hiding in my closet for three weeks?
And the secret passageways.
I was just waiting for you to figure out the case,
so I could exact my revenge.
We did it together, Charles. For Sazz.
I'm good at seeing through tiny slits and window blinds,
but I would much rather have taken Marshall out up close, you know?
Stabbed him through the eye with a buck knife
and really mixed it around.
I truly don't know how you make words like that arousing.
Oh, Charles.
Oh, by the way,
I ate a bunch of your Pirate Booty when I was in hiding.
I'll Venmo you eight bucks.
Call it even for serial killing our serial killer.
I've got her, let's go.
- Goodbye, Jan. - It's not goodbye, Charles.
It never is with us. We're endgame.
Bye.
Well, it's hard to deny you make a cute couple.
Oh God!
Seems like an awkward time to celebrate.
Although, I have an out-of-the-box idea.
Isn't it insulting to flirt now?
Oh, who the hell knows? Suddenly, it's rude to tell a secretary
- she looks pretty in a pair of slacks. - Hm.
Nope. No to that whole sentence.
Compliment her purse.
If it isn't on their body, you can like it.
No, again, to every word that's coming out of your mouth.
I'm glad you're doing this.
- Being alone in life is making you weird. - Thank you?
- And cut! - Okay, okay.
- Are you gonna snort like that? - Well, he does.
Yeah.
Poor bastards, think they just have to solve Tim Kono's murder.
Little do they know the bodies just keep on droppin'.
Oh, there you go again, saying Loretta's gonna get murdered.
- I didn't say... - E-Every time I have a big moment,
an opening night, someone dies just to spite me.
- Loretta is fine. - Hey, guys!
Are we amazing or what?
- It's good! - Doing a good job.
My level of cringe is mercifully low.
Heard you caught the killer.
Couldn't have done it without us.
Although I'm not entirely sure what we did,
but, uh, can't say it didn't help.
I knew that guy Marshall was a shitty writer.
He was trying to get my character to say "not" after each sentence.
I loved it. Not.
Mabel! I have great news.
So, I set our pitch meeting for next week.
So, I hope you've been fleshing out your ideas
- about the buttons. - You know what?
I'd rather tell the story of a stunt woman
who dedicated her whole life to protecting her friend.
Who wrote a love letter to him
in the form of a movie.
Right, but the thing is,
our algorithm really likes buttons.
I don't think I belong in this industry.
Wait one second. Hello?
One second.
Yeah.
We need to keep shooting, people.
Excuse me.
You know, I appreciate this movie in a whole different way now.
- I mean, Sazz wrote this. - Aww, Charles.
Hey.
Sorry you're missing all this.
Yeah.
Would've been nice.
I think this is your chair.
Well, thank you, my friend.
Actually, I miss that guy.
You did good.
I know this is just me telling myself I did good, but...
I'll take the compliment.
It's been a long day.
Let him talk to himself.
Okay, where is she?
- She's coming. - Yeah, any second.
No, no, s-something has happened.
- Oliver. - Oliver. Just...
Sorry. I thought I saw a roach.
Sorry, we lost track of time.
- We had a lot of catching up to do. - Yeah.
Love you.
For the rest of your life, I promise...
Be my man, be my husband, be my friend, be my lover.
Well, well, well, well,
- we put on a good show, Mrs. Putnam. - Aww.
Yeah. Mrs. Durkin-Putnam.
- Ah. - You forgot my hyphen.
- Forgot it? - Mm-hmm.
It's all I think about.
You are the most extraordinary man I have ever known.
- Ah... thank you. - You are.
You brought down a murderer,
and you can merengue.
- I mean... - Mm. What a combo.
- Here it is! - No!
I can't.
I just... I can't imagine,
taking you away from all this.
What are you talking about? I-I...
I can't wait to be in New Zealand.
You know, with all the... sheep.
Anyway... I'll be with you.
Mm-hmm.
But, you won't be with them.
Okay.
Aw.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Ollie, we got our happy ending, didn't we?
- Yeah, we did. - And nothing in our relationship
has ever been even vaguely conventional.
So, why should we start now?
Let's talk about it tonight.
Did Oliver and Loretta go up already?
Yeah. She leaves first thing,
so I think they're...
taking care of their honeymoon business
while they can.
Let's just pretend they're upstairs playing show tunes on the piano.
Well, my date and I had a grand old time.
You brought the ashes?
Yeah, Sazz loved weddings,
but I'm gonna say goodbye to these.
Sprinkle 'em on the land that Sazz wanted for her trampoline park.
I think that's where she'd like to end up.
Mr. Savage? Ms. Mora.
I-I hope it's okay. I was upstairs looking for you.
There was no doorman on duty. I took a shot.
- I'm sorry, do we know you? - No.
I'll send it back down for you.
If I feel like it.
I wanna hire you to find my husband. It's urgent.
Oh, w-we're not a detective firm.
My husband is Nicky Caccimelio.
O-Or was, if you believe the news.
I pay very well.
We only investigate murders in the building.
It's right there in our name.
What happened to Nicky has everything to do with this building.
I'm sorry, but good luck.
I'm disappointed.
I-I thought maybe you could do
what the police have been unable to
and what I can't safely do by myself.
Sofia Caccimelio.
Call if you change your mind.
That's quite a dame.
In the same way that Judi Dench is a dame.
Good save.
You are gonna come, though, in a, in a few weeks?
You're not gonna leave me high and dry
in New Zealand, are ya?
You can't Kiwi me away.
Sorry.
Where have you been?
I love you.
And as the last frames flicker on our season at the movies,
between newlyweds and a captured killer,
we somehow managed to find our way to a happy ending.
And got through a whole wedding day all without a body.
We must be doing something right.
- Mm. - Beautiful day.
Feel that breeze, huh?
- It's nice to take a moment and enjoy. - Yeah.
Wait.
Oh, my God!
Lester?
- Lester! - Call 911!
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Lester!
No! No, no, no, no!
Oh, my God, no! Lester!
Thank you for calling 911.
There are... 72 emergencies ahead of you.
sync and corrections by solfieri www.addic7ed.com