Enough.
Any more fluid and her eyes will pop like champagne corks.
Sorry.
Uhh, skin is pink and rigid.
The index of the arterial solution is wrong.
What percentage formaldehyde did you use?
I followed the formula.
If you had, she wouldn't be as hard as a carrot.
Well, maybe...
There are no 'maybe's when preparing the dead.
Let me see how you aspirate the cavity.
You're liquefying organs, not performing liposuction.
Let's try to finish this by tonight.
Oh, shit! Jesus!
The family hired us to prepare
their loved one for eternal rest, not defile the dead.
Sorry. I didn't mean to defile...
Just go while I try to unfuck this mess.
I think I know what I did wrong. Next time...
No more next times. You're fired.
You got fired? Again?
I mean, you have no idea how completely fucked-up death is.
Before this, it was accounting
after you were shitcanned by the driving school.
I just haven't figured out what colour my parachute is.
This baby growing inside me on account of you
is gonna need food, diapers, and braces and college tuition.
I'll start sending out my resume tomorrow!
You walk in this apartment unemployed again,
you're gonna be the one on the table
getting your insides hoovered out,
and, trust me, I am not playing.
I'm prepared to do whatever it takes.
Layla?
Ohh...
Uhh!
Annie?
Rich people always have...
..the best bathrooms.
I thought you split.
It's a bright, sunny morning in the Age of Aquarius
and that meth-head is somewhere else by now.
Yeah, that wasn't a meth-head.
I'm not even sure it was human.
Whatever the fuck it was, it went straight for my chest.
Yeah, but you're safe now.
And I should be getting back to my hotel.
So you are disappearing, huh?
Didn't mean to ruin your breakfast.
How often do you feed?
When I get hungry.
What do you do with the bodies?
You actually think I kill people?
Don't you?
No. I mean, not anymore.
It's not like we're still living in the Dark Ages.
Hasn't anyone shown you?
Shown me what?
How to live in the wild.
I'm the only upir I know.
What about your parents?
I'm a self-starter.
Well, I certainly don't go around butchering people.
So school me.
Most of us work in jobs that keep us close to blood -
doctors, lab techs, EMTs.
- Where do you fit in? - ER nurse.
Hmph. Must be like a kid in a candy store.
Roman?!
What the fuck happened?
There. Isn't that better?
Thank you.
Now you don't need me to help you with these every morning.
Do I have to?
You'll feel better if you do.
I don't feel anything when I take them.
Oh, darling, that is a good thing.
Your problem has been that you've always felt too much.
Now open wide.
Good girl.
Hi. I...I am so sorry for the intrusion.
But, um, I'm a patient of Dr Godfrey's.
Was...is...am.
But I saw you in the market yesterday
and I recognised you from the photo on his desk.
You followed me?
I was hoping that you could help me
get in touch with Dr Godfrey.
He never notified me that he was leaving
and his mail's piling up.
I...I was worried about him.
Mmm.
Um...
If you don't mind, my daughter was very close with Dr Godfrey,
and I don't want to upset her.
Oh, of course. I'm not looking to upset anyone.
You know, I try to put on a brave face for her,
but Norman left so suddenly with no real explanation.
- It's been difficult. - I can only imagine.
And so unlike Dr Godfrey.
Which is why I'm beginning to worry
something may have happened to him.
No, it's way too early to give in to despair.
That's what I keep telling myself,
but he took off to London,
said he needed some time for himself.
Then he stopped calling.
I still have some friends at Scotland Yard
from my time on the London stage.
I reached out to them. I just wanted to make sure he was OK.
- Did they find anything? - No, nothing so far.
Which is better than a corpse, I guess.
Uh...
Um, why don't you leave me your number
and then the moment we hear from Norman, I'll give you a call.
Uh, that would be... that would be great.
I would truly appreciate that.
And, um, let me just say, I knew you were innocent all along.
Free Shelley.
'Bye.
Why don't you ever talk about Uncle Norman with me?
He's gone and, um...
..it's painful for all of us.
You think this had anything to do with those guys?
Could have been, but it doesn't seem like their style.
What about the other one, from the White Tower?
- The rooftop guy? - Yeah. No.
I don't know. We have to find out either way.
What on earth are you guys talking about?
Can you be a gentleman for once and call your date a cab?
Who said she's going anywhere?
Just hang out for a sec, OK?
I'd be dead if it wasn't for her.
And you want to thank her
by getting her hip-deep in our shit?
- She's different. - Yeah.
I don't care how well trained her gag reflex is...
She's an upir.
She tracked me down somehow,
said she was looking for others like her.
So she's stalking you.
We ended up kind of stalking each other.
OK, so...so with everything we've got going on right now,
you think you should trust her just because she's an upir?
No. I don't know.
If she wanted to hurt me, she could have let that thing
last night finish the job, but she didn't.
And if you scare her off,
I'll never know how she fits in to any of this
or how I fit in... to things in general.
Hey there!
Hey, we're in here.
You forgot some clothes.
- What the fuck? - Someone broke in.
Not someone. Something.
- You don't know that. - No, I think I do.
What is she doing?
We need to take her to a hospital.
- I'm fine. I'm fine. - No. This is serious.
You could have some internal bleeding.
It's OK. She's a psychic.
- So what was it? - I don't know.
I don't want to.
But after it attacked you,
I think it went to that mortuary on Holden Street.
- What do you think? - We should check it out.
What do you have for me?
Interview transcripts.
Spivak's credit report.
Military service record for Miranda's father.
And...
..the proposed scope of the investigation moving forward.
Did you know that the name 'Spivak' is Ukrainian?
- It means 'song'. - Fascinating.
I got nothing.
But unless I keep generating what looks like work product,
Roman's gonna quit opening his wallet.
And that would be bad for both of us.
Here is something interesting.
I found this in Spivak's apartment a while back.
Who was Ryan Dunbrack?
It took a lot of searching,
but this...is Dunbrack there.
That photo was taken 70 years ago.
Spivak hasn't aged a bit.
Can you fucking believe that?
It does strain credulity.
Now, either I've discovered
a tear in the space-time continuum or...
..it's gotta be Spivak's old man, right?
Dead ringer.
So I gave Roman this big pile of nothing to chew on.
Hope it's enough to keep him paying out.
But I don't know. It seems mighty thin.
I, uh...
..I think it's time I told you the truth about my son.
The Vikings, right?
Terror of the northern seas, axes dripping with blood,
villages burned to the ground, rape.
Oh, if you two ever fell into their clutches,
I shudder to think what they'd do to you, great horned devils.
Anyway, the Vikings, they took their shields,
dented and blood-stained in battle, right,
heated them up, poured batter on them
and the ebelskiver was born.
Huh, look at that. Voila!
That is breakfast south of the Galdhopiggen.
A lot of controversy surrounds this little piece of paradise.
Baking soda versus yeast, maple syrup versus honey,
plain old sugar...
And, my Lord, there's been, like, you know,
a 300-year holy war over the stuffing.
Apple slices, dried fruit, jam, berries.
Even cheese, for God's sake.
But the key to ebelskivers, ladies,
is, uh, the lemon zest.
- Shut up. Shut up. - That's the key. Lemon zest.
Shut up, OK? Shut up!
Ugh!
Huh?
After all our years together, huh?
How many flu seasons have we been through?
This is how you treat me?
Oh, my God!
Ohh...
So looking forward to getting out of the city.
Just me and the girls, huh?
It's supposed to be all snow angels, reindeers
and cosy evenings by the fire, then this.
Oh, well. Come on, girl.
Ohh!
Hey!
After all markers have been exhaustively inspected,
comma, 632 AFLP markers were recorded, full stop.
Construction of the first-generation linkage map
proved successful, semi-colon,
however, comma, I have jack shit.
You're either doing too many drugs or too few.
Do you have a specific need or is this one of your
"I think I'll go fuck with Pryce" visits?
I have received some information
about our dear friend Dr Spivak.
Now, why don't you be a dear and fetch me some nutrient?
Essex. Essex.
Essex. Lime. Lime.
Plum. Yes! Plum.
What the fuck are you babbling about?
- Johann? - What?
May I keep these?
Help yourself.
Now, what does a girl have to do
to get a glass of hemo around here?
The nutrient? I flushed it.
You did what?!
You have only yourself to blame.
Huh!
- Oh, get my kite down. - It's on that branch.
You have to chop it down or something, but we can't.
- It will break! - I can get that down for you.
There we go. You're such a good girl.
Come here. Come here.
Ohh...
There we go. There we go.
Yeah. Ohh...!
Miranda?
What are you doing?
That little girl's getting bigger every day, huh?
The ocular chromatic progression's
just turned out beautiful.
I mean, those eyes of hers,
just a much calmer arctic blue now, aren't they?
Don't have to worry about haemorrhaging to death
every time the kid feels threatened now.
What did you do to her?
I really ought to show you the basement sometime
because there are some wondrous things to see down there...
..because the times, baby, they are a-changing.
You don't want to fuck with Croatian pussy, my friend.
It sucks you right inside.
Time stands still
till finally you have to claw your way back out
like you're being born again.
A lot of fish had to fuck to make that much caviar, huh?
You were smart to come to us.
Been wanting to get into business
with you guys for a while.
This seemed like the right opportunity.
I count 100 units and if we give you 22-5 each...
Mmm, that's a little low.
Consider it a discount
that will generate future opportunity.
Best and final.
Let's do it.
So that's 2.25 for the caviar.
Let's say 50K for the truck.
Please, it's no charge for the truck.
A gift to our new friends.
I learned a long time ago
never to accept anything free from a Gypsy.
So with the truck,
you lucky pikers are $2.3 million richer.
What the fuck's going on?
Last night there were only 50 crates.
And only $1 million on the table.
Huh! What a difference a day makes.
You stepped on them.
I found a way to make us more money.
And I didn't tell you 'cause I didn't want you freakin' out.
- Like this. - This?
This isn't me freaking out.
This is me trying to figure out what to do when shit goes off.
Trust me. I have everything under control.
Milan's got a guy - the Tongue.
He wants to test the merch.
The Tongue? Really? They got a guy called the Tongue?
- Peter... - Fuck the caviar and the money.
Let's go before they figure out what you did.
Come on. Come on.
You keep your shit together out there, OK?
Come on.
- Shit. - What?
I'm getting a lot of noise.
Nothing specific, but there's definitely
something not right here.
No shit something's not right here. Look at this place.
Mortuaries are like cemeteries.
It's like being tuned in
to a hundred different radio stations at once.
Look, this thing was after me. What are we dealing with here?
Why don't you two take a look around and let me do my thing?
You gonna be OK?
Yeah, I'm totally down with the dead.
They don't lie, they don't pick their noses
and...they don't break your heart.
Alright.
You know, I'm so glad
you came around on the meat-eating thing.
That's how the human brain evolved, you know?
What is it?
I'm not sure. Um...
A deer, I think.
Life in the wild, huh?
No doubt drawn by the salt-lick I put out back.
Nature on parade, unsullied by man.
- Huh! - Arggh!
Come on. Come on.
Ugh...
Oh!
I'm coming back for you.
Were Adam and Eve really alien visitors?
- That's what a new... - Be specific.
There are 38 races of aliens, you waste of clothes.
Bernarians. Silians.
Alpha-draconians. Zeta-reticulans.
Naga. Iguanoids. The Greys.
Dogons. The Little People. The Nordics.
Fricking idiot.
Did Norman come back? Is he OK?
No, sadly.
Um, I just needed someone to talk to.
And your address was on your card, so...
Um, come in.
Oh, I love the colour choices.
Did your wife pick those out?
No, no, no.
The tone-on-tone is all me.
I'm looking for a taupe couch, you know, to change things up.
- Mmm. - I can do whatever I want now.
She left me.
Oh, I am so sorry to hear that.
Ehh, it's for the best. But how are you holding up?
I don't know.
I keep worrying. What if he's not coming back?
There's so many things I want to tell him.
Write them down. That's what I do.
Oh, that's a good idea.
No, I...I write everything down.
It's one of the reasons why the wife left, she tells me -
I wrote everything down instead of saying it to her.
Well, it's sometimes easier that way.
I never told Dr Godfrey she left me.
I didn't want to come off sounding like a failure.
Oh, he wouldn't have judged you. He wasn't that sort of man.
Would you mind if we didn't talk about him in the past tense?
- Just...just superstitious. - Yeah, I'm sorry.
I'm just...giving in to my worst fears, I suppose.
Well, I am holding a high thought that he's OK.
Ohh, you remind me of Norman in so many ways.
That is a nice thing to say,
but I'm not as strong as he was...is.
I'm not as strong as he is.
He's a good man.
Arggh! Arggh!
I'm bleeding!
What the hell is wrong with you?!
Oh, God! That's a new fucking carpet!
Ohh...
The Caspian sturgeon
has been hunted to the brink of extinction.
You'll find it on America's list of endangered species,
which, of course, makes it illegal to import,
thus incredibly rare.
And incredibly expensive.
Which is why most of the beluga caviar
sold in the US is counterfeit -
good for me because I specialise in authentication.
I'll be surprised if this product is legitimate,
especially considering the source.
Is your fucking tongue limbered up enough yet?
The proof is in the taste...
..and the texture.
This is pure Caspian sturgeon, as advertised.
Oh, yeah.
- Are...are you OK? - Help me, please.
Please. Do you have a cell phone?
Uhh...I don't think I get service.
Ohh...
Come on.
Hi there.
- Hey. How you doing? - You're looking for someone?
- Yeah, my wife. - Yeah.
She's...she's just borrowing my phone.
Miranda? Sweetie? Where are you?
- Is she OK? - Yeah, yeah, she'll be back.
We had a little fight. You know gals.
- Oh, what have you got here? - Oh, this is...
This is our little guy.
Oh, cool. I'm a paediatrician.
- Oh, really? - Yeah.
Hey, man. Let me take a look. Alright.
Oh, my Lord, you're a big fella! Oi, oi, oi!
Could you take a quick look at this?
What is it?
Oh, just under... under his cap there. Yeah.
Oh, it's a little cradle cap.
Yeah. Little cradle cap. Nothing to worry about.
Should clear up in a week or two
with baby shampoo and warm water, alright?
But not too warm, Daddy. Don't make it too warm!
Hey! There you are.
Isn't this a cute baby?
You know who'd love to pinch this little guy's cheeks?
Pearl.
Yes, she would. Yes, she would. Ohh!
Pearl would be, like, in baby heaven.
- Pearl's my nurse. - Oh, OK.
- She was. - Oh.
We better be getting home now.
Ohh...
Oh!
Yeah. Why don't you get in the car, warm up?
Thanks for letting the missus call home.
Oh, well, lucky for her you were already on your way,
what with the bad cell phone coverage out here.
Yeah, lucky for her.
There he is.
What is this?
- I think it's dinner. - Holy shit!
Most mortuaries just wash the blood and guts down the drain.
Then what's this for?
Some turn it over to medical waste companies.
Medical waste, huh?
OK, be a snob.
You can either go hungry or feed on the living.
Mmm!
Ahh... What?
- It's cold. - Well, it's refrigerated.
What did you see?
May I?
Knock yourself out.
- Eugh. - It's just blood.
Once it stops pumping, gravity takes over
and it all settles to the bottom.
"Renal failure." That means unfiltered.
We found refrigerated blood downstairs.
"Drug overdose." Nope.
Here we go. "Gunshot wound."
See this? No blood.
He's been completely drained.
The owner of this mortuary,
the one who got her chest ripped out, she was upir.
That blood downstairs was some bottom-shelf shit.
But a healthy young man gets shot, that is some fine dining.
There was another upir
five miles from my house and I never knew?
Half the morticians in the country are upir.
Trust me.
I'm getting cremated.
So that means that that thing that attacked me...
Was hunting upirs.
Yeah.
We need to talk.
You can apologise tomorrow, my friend.
Tonight is for celebrating!
You could have killed everyone today because you...
Stepped on the caviar?
What would've happened if we failed that taste test?
There was never any chance of that.
The Tongue's got no love for the Croats.
They own his ass and they never let him forget it.
- How do you know that? - Me and him go way back.
Did a couple favours, made some problems go away...
That still doesn't...
I paid him 50 grand to seal the deal.
We were fine.
To Andreas!
Andreas!
Whoo!
Hey.
- If you ever walk me into... - Peter, you're so dramatic!
You could've made my cousin a widow.
OK, look.
I'm sorry. I should've told you.
But everything I did was for Destiny
so we could get our lives straight.
I got a plan.
I'm gonna use my cut of the money
to buy a fleet of ice-cream trucks.
- Ice-cream trucks? - Yeah.
So you're gonna put on a white shirt and be the ice-cream man?
No. I'm gonna own the fleet.
And here's the beauty of it.
I'm gonna use the trucks to make a little book on the side.
Sell a little ice-cream, make the kids happy.
Make a little book, keep the adults happy.
Kids happy, adults happy - everybody's happy, right?
It is going to be beautiful.
Ohh! My man!
Feeding on a transient's blood?
It's the medical equivalent
of drinking a glass of water in the Ganges.
I wasn't about to go slumming for my supper.
I fed on a man so meticulously bland
I figured it would be safe.
Did you tidy up after yourself
or will I be reading about this in the paper?
Don't worry. He's fine - the proud owner of his first hickey.
Goddammit, Johann, what's wrong with me?
You probably picked up a bug.
Get some rest and drink plenty of fluids.
- That's it? - That's it.
Are you trying to poison me?
Just plain old everyday AB positive.
What the fuck am I supposed to eat?
I...don't know.
An upir having difficulty tolerating blood...
I'm certainly intrigued by the novelty.
Annie?
I'm a mother and a wife.
Or I was...before.
- We don't have to talk about it. - No, I want to.
I need to hear it out loud sometimes.
We were heading off to Thanksgiving,
my husband, my daughter and me.
She was seven.
Special occasions like that
were the only time she would let me do her hair.
She looked so pretty.
The truck hit, flipped the car right over
and I could see her braids in the rear-view
twist around and around.
I should have died.
In any rational world, I would have.
When everyone you know, everyone you love,
dies before you,
how do you carry on?
Roman.
It's still here.
Obviously, you did a bad thing, right?
But Pearl's poor choices today clearly triggered some...
..I don't know, weird hormonal cascade in you.
Corticotropin, norepinephrine, vasopressin
and, of course, you know, adrenaline -
the big daddy in your mammalian fight-or-flight cocktail.
So...I forgive you, alright?
Plus, I am in such a great mood.
No point in holding a grudge, right?
Especially since the garde à l'eau is complete.
Yeah, that's what we call phase two in Babylonian.
Come see for yourself.
No...
No, no!
- Oh, hey. Don't be scared, huh? - Stop!
The future awaits. No escaping the future.
- Come on. - No!
Ohh...
- Isn't that something? - No!
Huh? To everything, there is a season.
No!
- Now it's our turn. - Please, no!
I couldn't have done it without you, Miranda.
Shelley?
Shelley!
I am not in the mood for games.
Annie!
Roman?
What's wrong with him?
He needs help.