Previously on iZombie...
Katty Kupps, Center for Disease Control.
She's the absolute last person who would conclude there were, you know...
We start our own brain business.
- I love it. - Yeah, you do!
You're thinking too small.
I can't stop thinking about Peyton and Blaine.
And it's driving me crazy.
The side effect of Cure One, the cure Major took is death.
Or he can take Cure Two...
And lose all his memories.
What if I could come up with a formula
that could reverse memory loss?
Guess who found a job, a job where no one cares
if you've been publicly accused of being a serial killer?
_
Jackpot spotted in south corridor.
Zulu-13, you're 20 meters out.
Let's save some hostages.
Roger for Zulu-13.
Ready to breach.
All right. Good job.
Lilywhite.
There's one thing men under my command cannot do.
What is that one thing?
Survive a bullet to the head, sir.
Black Squad, hit the showers.
White Squad,
give me five miles before you do the same.
Lunchtime. Get 'em while they're goopy.
Just new to the processed kind.
You better get familiar with 'em.
Yum, yum.
It's like if someone ate brains and old yogurt
and then mama-birded them into a tube.
You should put a note about the texture in the suggestion box.
What the hell?
Who stacks plates on top of glasses?
I guess I shouldn't be complaining about the tubes.
You know, it's probably better to be on white noise
than teen-angst brain while I'm tracking Natalie.
And I think I can find her.
If I can just figure out who all of her old clients were and where they live.
There's actually one person who might have that information.
Blaine.
Oh. No, no, no, no.
We are not playing the "murder everyone" game.
We're playing my dance game.
Did we lose a bet?
I bring the Chinese food. You play my game. That's the deal.
♪ To understand the reason ♪
♪ Why we carry on this way ♪
♪ Lost in a masquerade ♪
_
How'd you even land this gig?
The last guy died up there. Literally.
One minute he's singing Hey Jude,
the next, he's stroking out during the "na-na-na-nas."
I handled the funeral, and the owner of this place shows up.
I was singing Hallelujah, the Jeff Buckley tune.
- Hmm. - He liked what he heard.
One thing led to another. Here I am.
A star is born.
While we're on the subject of the dead,
I got a call about my dad's will.
You mentioned you received a sizable settlement.
Who called?
He said he was my dad's lawyer.
Wanted to meet about some problem tomorrow.
- Wouldn't say what. - Well, it sounds shady.
Is there any chance you could come?
I wouldn't wanna get taken advantage of,
you know, especially with the fuzziness.
I'll say to you what I say to all of my clients.
What's in it for me?
When you hear a noise,
just accept it,
and then let it drift away.
And now, if that works for noise,
what other unwanted intrusions
can we choose to let go?
At your own pace, open your eyes.
I'll see you next week.
Namaste.
Isn't he amazing?
- Namaste. - Namaste.
_
"When you realize how perfect everything is,
you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky."
That's the last thing Topher said to me.
It is so true. Life is perfect.
- Right. Miss... - Ladybird.
This is a murder investation, so...
I'll be damned.
All right, Ladybird,
I'm told you found the body.
I opened this morning.
There he was sitting on his Zafu cushion.
He died doing what he loved.
- Sitting? - Meditating.
Topher was a powerful mindfulness teacher.
Everyone loved him.
Doesn't seem like everyone loved him.
Did he have any exes? Angry clients?
Topher said he only had one enemy.
The inability to accept the gift of change.
Got it.
Thank you for your help. Don't leave town.
Bloody, this one.
Zen guru beaten to death with a Buddha statue. Feels personal.
Or a tragic misunderstanding of "Open your mind."
Look over here.
Forensics will be able to ID the make of the shoe from the tread.
Size 12.
Already measured it.
Detective.
This gentleman sleeps in a grate in the alley out back.
He said he saw a man sprint out the back door around the time of the murder.
Said the man ran into the alley carrying a bag.
Uncool, man.
Can you describe this man you saw?
Tall, I guess. Uh...
Dark hair, scruffy. Dumb face.
Any Anea what he was carrying?
- Trash. - What makes you say "trash"?
It was in a trash bag.
Take him to the precinct. Sober him up.
Have him talk to a sketch artist.
Let's check out this alley.
Damn. What in God's name?
If he ditched his trash bag, this is where he'd do it.
The only dumpster in the alley,
and it had to be outside a seafood place.
Look, peeking out from the fish heads and the lobster shells.
- Is that... - A trash bag.
You could have one of the uniformed guys do it.
I hated the detectives who did that when I was in uniform.
You're a good man, Clive Babineaux.
- That better be tartar sauce. - Ew.
What is it?
Bloody shoes.
The sole matches the pattern from the crime scene.
Let's get you a barrel of wet wipes,
and then we can go find our Cinderella.
Now, how about I go shower, and you have a little lunch?
Almond milk chai latte for you,
and the strong stuff for me.
Teatime.
Got it backwards.
How do you drink almond milk?
Mmm.
Yummy, yummy.
I wonder if Topher here died with any regrets.
Things he wished he did differently.
Forks in the road where he felt he chose the wrong, uh, prong.
Did Peyton mention whether...
Stop. No more.
Talk to her. Not to me.
My kingdom for a handicapped ramp.
Dr. Kupps, welcome back.
Wow.
Look at that suitcase.
My hotel wouldn't let me check in yet,
and, please, Ravi. Call me Katty.
- I'm not your boss anymore. - Huh.
Oh, hey, sweetie, would you mind grabbing me a diet soda?
Anything caffeinated.
Yep, sure, Katty.
Whew. Rough way to go.
Death and life are but sides of a single coin.
In a way, he's still alive and always will be.
I take it there's been a development on the Super Max case?
It looks like you plan to stay a while.
Interesting developments indeed.
Two years ago, a private plane crashes in a field in North Dakota.
Six dead.
The black box showed nothing was wrong with the plane.
It just dropped from the sky.
During the investigation,
the local medical examiner reaches out to us at the CDC
because he's discovered something odd.
One of the bodies belonged to a young woman,
and just like the Super Max body,
she had human brains in her digestive tract,
and her dead flesh seemed to indicate
she'd died months before she ever got on that plane.
Guess where the plane originated?
- Seattle. - Yes.
So now Seattle is ground zero for this investigation.
I hope it's okay if I use your morgue when I need a lab.
Sure.
Hi, Jacob. I'm heading to my 1:30.
I'm on my cell if anything comes up.
Surprise.
Yes.
- You're leaving. - I am.
I was hoping to talk.
Well, I'll be back in the afternoon. Can we do this then?
It won't take a minute.
- Please. - Sure.
Right, the short version.
Uh... I'm saying this.
I'm sorry.
I haven't been a good friend.
I've wanted to be, but...
Look, intellectually... I know you didn't do anything wrong.
We weren't together when you and Blaine had your...
You didn't know who he was.
So it's my stupid macho problem.
It's just...
Any time my brain isn't otherwise occupied,
these little movies begin playing in there, yeah?
What kind of movies?
Uh...
Adult movies of Blaine and you doing stuff.
I'm going to say this once.
When I met Blaine, he was this man who was brave enough
to stand up to Mr. Boss when no one else would.
That's how I knew him.
After I found out who he was, after we did "stuff"...
I've beaten myself up enough on my own.
I don't need your help.
And this should be obvious, but I'm gonna say it anyways.
Your opinion in this matter is irrelevant.
What did you come here for, Ravi?
Did you come here to say you're sorry?
Or were you hoping maybe I'd apologize to you?
- Hello? - Hey.
Are you almost here?
Yeah, I got hung up.
Got it.
I guess I will tread water. See you soon.
Gentlemen, I am so sorry about the delay.
Uh, my attorney will be arriving tout de suite.
In the meantime, can I offer you a drink, or...
Snack?
Nothing for me.
Water.
Room temperature.
In a glass.
_
So word is you lost your memory.
I did.
It was the darnedest thing.
I looked under all my couch cushions, in my car...
I'm glad to see your sense of humor made it across the Lethe.
- The what? - The Lethe.
It's a river in the land of the dead.
One sip, and you just forget who you were when you were alive.
Perhaps we could get down to the business at hand.
Sorry to make everyone wait.
You're supposed to be dead.
And lo, the stone was rolled away from the tomb.
Blaine, um... This man is your father.
Well,
I'm starting to see the problem with the will.
I'm sorry. I thought you were abducted by the Chaos Killer.
Oh, I was, but I escaped.
I'm crafty.
Well, hot damn!
Dad's back!
- Who's pumped? - Everyone, I'm sure.
Now, the will, as I'm sure you'll agree,
is no longer valid, so if you'd just sign that...
Ah, say no more.
It's your money, after all.
And it's a small price to pay for this family reunion.
Now, once you get back on your feet, I think that we should...
Well, geez, you tell me.
What is it we used to do together?
I know I'd love to hear some stories, look at some photos.
I can tell you a story right now if you'd like.
You were 11 or so.
Your mother and I were turning the house over
looking for these earrings she loved.
Then the phone rings.
It's a woman we don't know. She's very upset.
She tells us that her son's admitted
that he sold my wife's earrings in a pawn shop.
You'd stolen them and roped some teenage drug addict into selling them.
So precocious!
That was the day I admitted to myself
that the sight of you made me sick.
Go. Get out.
Gladly.
I've got what's worth having.
I got your text.
You took a while.
I was taking a sound bath.
What is a...
You know what? Doesn't matter.
What matters is that you're sure that this guy you ate
is legitimately a Zen'd-out, anti-materialistic,
"what's the sound of one hand clapping" kind of guy.
Are you kidding?
He's so legit, I don't even have to cultivate mindful self-compassion.
Then this might surprise you.
He used to be a venture capitalist.
Made a fortune in software.
And just days before Topher's first big score,
one of his two VC partners, Mitch Davis,
got busted trying to sell suitcases full of cocaine.
A powerful metaphor for the spiritual baggage he had yet to shed.
That metaphor got him five years.
And according to this story,
Topher took on Mitch's share of the investment and doubled his fortune.
Motive!
So where's this Mitch guy now, still in jail?
He got out. Two weeks ago.
- Whoa. - Mmm-hmm.
I just reached out and asked Mr. Davis
to join us tomorrow for a chat.
Maybe he matches the sketch from the homeless man.
There's no sketch.
Harris says he turned his back to get the guy some coffee.
Turned back, he was gone.
If he was ever there to begin with.
I mean cosmically.
Like how none of us are really just here,
we're on multiple planes of...
I'm going back to my sound bath.
This is Zulu-13.
I'm 20 meters from jackpot, ready to infiltrate.
Roger.
Got to watch your six, newb.
Lilywhite, along with "right in front of you,"
what's another place that bad guys might be?
Right behind me, sir.
That is correct.
Now, what would be a good reminder?
Five miles, White Team.
Do it!
Know what all those guys did before they were zombie mercenaries?
I don't know, Justin. Play villains in '80s movies?
They were human mercenaries, and before that, they were Army.
The only thing that's changed for them are the rations.
You and me?
We're just the fellas who wound up here.
Or you are a lifelong soldier for hire, and you just suck at it.
What did you do before?
You've heard about the July 4th Fillmore-Graves retreat,
where the whole company zombified?
- Yeah. - Yeah. I was the DJ.
Oh, that may be the saddest thing I've ever heard.
Yeah, well, not much call for a DJ
in the Fillmore-Graves day-to-day operations,
so here I am, zombie mercenary.
There's a learning curve.
You'll get there.
Well, this is unexpected.
It is, right?
Oh, yeah. Can I come in?
Yeah.
You're looking a little wan.
You need something with a kick?
Do you remember a zombie named Natalie?
I've heard her name.
Some of my customers ask about her.
She was a call girl.
You scratched her and forced her to service your clients.
Maybe my dad had a point.
Now I think one of her old clients
is holding her against her will.
I've got one lead.
This phone number.
I'll take a look. Alone.
You stay here.
Do you remember what it felt like before you took the cure?
When you were dying?
I don't.
Probably wasn't good.
Here you go.
Name and address.
Don't hurt him, okay? This is my livelihood.
Thank you.
Just a heads up. He ordered double brains last week,
so he might be on vacation.
He's not here?
Just a few days extra.
A week max. Not too long. Whoa.
Patience not your strong suit?
I may not have that long.
_
It's a work in progress, so use your imagination.
Pretend we're a couple of zombie dudes
here to chill, get our drink on.
The exposed brick is good.
Tufted leather banquettes would go nicely.
I was thinking a pinball machine next to the crapper.
We need a name.
One that would assure customers
they would never encounter pinball or the word "crapper."
I was thinking, maybe Whitey Bul.
Needs work.
The only humans in here should be appetizers.
We need a way to tell man from zombie.
I was thinking...
I don't think you should start sentences that way anymore.
What if
we had a would-be customer stick his hands in the mail slot,
took a nail gun,
we drove a nine-penny through his palm?
Sure, it stings a bit, but if he refuses,
we know he's way too alive to come in here.
Needs work.
And exhale.
What's going on?
The good news is the fluid currently in his lungs is draining.
But it will return with a vengeance.
And he won't be able to fight it.
- How long do I have? - Weeks.
Maybe. Then you'll have to take the cure,
memory loss and all.
Identity's just a hallucination
of the unenlightened mind anyway.
Makes total sense.
It's not a lost cause yet.
My serum to reverse memory loss is ready.
Well, hypothetically.
Human memory is more complex than a rat's.
I have no way to test it.
There's never a chimp suffering from dementia
around when you really need one.
There is one way.
Blaine.
But I doubt he'll take the risk. He doesn't trust us.
But he trusts Peyton. I could get her to ask him to hear us out.
_
I have to go.
No. Listen to me. They're the ones that can't even get on NASDAQ.
Off the phone, please, Mr. Davis.
Oh, well, if you say so.
Yeah, I do.
Listen, listen. I'm telling you!
Margins the size of Kate Upton's fun bags.
Let me circle back.
So, Topher.
Toph the Loaf murdered. Bummer.
Why am I here?
You are the deceased's former business partner.
"Partners"? Generous.
I was kind of the brains of the outfit.
Not enough brains to dodge a coke bust.
"Coke bust." Makes it sound like I was a junkie.
I was moving product.
Much cooler.
You mind?
We know the killer had large feet.
Maybe we can cross you off the list of suspects.
Why not?
So you were moving product?
To raise money for a business venture.
One that hit big, I might add.
I found that deal, by the way. I almost got rich.
But you didn't. You went to jail.
And two weeks after you get out,
the man who profited off your incarceration winds up dead.
Yeah. That sucked. But I'm over it.
He's a seven and a half.
Our witness said he was tall with dark hair anyway.
I'm sorry to disappoint.
But my motto these days?
"You've got to sell the past and buy the future."
Yet both are illusions.
Like the fool, you stare at nothing.
So true.
So the newspaper said Topher got clipped in his mindfulness studio.
What angle do you suppose he was working?
Topher and Devon. Buddhists?
Please.
I'm sorry.
Who's Devon?
Uncurl the toes, please.
Twelve.
Open wide.
So Mitch went to jail,
and you and Topher struck it rich. What then?
I couldn't understand why I wasn't happy, so I spent my money.
Hoping things, material possessions, hallucinogenics,
would bring me peace. They didn't.
So after you spent all your money, Topher got you into all this?
The other way around.
After I hit rock bottom, I discovered mindfulness.
Topher saw how my life improved and it inspired him.
These look familiar?
Yes. They're mine.
- You're sure? - The two-tone laces.
Absolutely. Where did they turn up?
They were found in a dumpster a block over, covered in Topher's blood.
You know, a few nights before Topher's murder,
I walked into my home,
and I had the sense that someone had broken in.
"The sense"?
The positive energy had been completely obstructed.
I know how that sounds.
Ladybird.
You remember what I said about my house a few nights ago?
You mean when your positive energy was obstructed?
That's not a thing.
You're doing it right now.
Give us a second.
There is no way it's him.
He just admitted these shoes splattered with the victim's blood are his.
We know the murderer wore those shoes.
So this whole Zen thing's an act?
Look at him.
We need our homeless guy.
Do a line-up, see if he ID's him.
We know he lives nearby.
You're up for a stakeout?
Nothing.
Guess where my girl was.
You should do that in a clown mask next time.
I might actually have a heart attack.
- Guess. - Guess where your girl was.
I need some help here.
The plane crash girl,
the one with the brains in her digestive tract.
Guess where she was the day before she got on that plane.
No idea.
The boat party.
The one where all the people died.
Were you point on that?
Hmm. I was in Seattle by then,
but I was down the food chain a bit.
Bodies were missing brains.
The CSI's claimed fish got to them, but now...
Plane crash girl and the Super Max body
both had brains in their stomachs.
Do you think there could be some connection between the two massacres?
I mean, anything's possible, but...
You examined the bodies from the boat party, didn't you?
I did. Several.
And?
And...
Did any of them have brains in their digestive systems?
No.
No, they didn't.
Shoot.
I thought I was on to something.
Let's go have dinner.
There's something else I wanna bounce off you.
_
We are on a stakeout, and your eyes are closed.
You know, you'd be calmer if you lived in the moment.
I am.
This moment is about finding a witness to help solve a case.
The lightness and clarity of mindfulness will help us solve the case.
Oh, yeah, when?
You haven't had any visions.
Name one thing this brain's done to help catch the killer.
Can we get over this fixation of who did what, when?
It's a murder investigation.
Filling with sunlight.
Detective Babineaux?
I just got a report from a woman about a pimp yelling at a hooker in a car.
Meaning us?
You have been snippy with me.
Yeah, well, she said she'd been watching you two parked here all night.
- We're on a stakeout. - Oh, all right.
She watched all night?
You really seemed to be giving her a good tongue-lashing.
You understand my confusion.
Cookie?
We're looking for a homeless man
who says he sleeps in this alley.
Three nights ago...
No homeless man sleeps in this alley.
I wouldn't allow it.
In any case, a homeless man told us that...
Not one who sleeps in my alley.
Regardless of where the homeless man sleeps,
he says he saw a man racing down your alley
three nights ago, around 10:00 p.m.
This other man is our suspect.
He threw a garbage bag in the dumpster below your window.
Oh, wait. The homeless man!
I did see him run down this way.
It wasn't the homeless man who ran down the alley.
It was the suspect.
I watched him from that chair right there.
I thought it was strange.
Usually, they take things out of the dumpster.
Our wino lied?
Why?
Because he didn't witness the murder.
- He committed the murder. - Oh, my...
Oh...
- Yeah! - Yes!
Whoo!
Nice work, son.
Lilywhite. Heads up.
J-Dog.
Hey. You ever have the real deal?
The uncut stuff?
- Never. - Hmm.
You know, I have a hookup.
All the cool kids are doing it.
Major? I got your text!
Oh!
No, by all means.
This is the highlight of my week.
Liv, this is Justin, my friend from work.
Justin, this is Liv.
- Hey, there. - Hi.
Your text freaked me out. "Get over here stat."
We're on Zumba instructor brain.
That explains a lot.
I hope you're a zombie,
or the snacks here may have been more than you bargained for.
- And we saved you some. - I can't.
Oh, boo.
That said, I don't need Zumba brain to kick your asses.
_
You start growing that beard once you figured out how you were going to kill
your old business partner, Topher?
A witness saw you hiding the bloody shoes in the dumpster.
Shoes you stole from Devon's house,
totally obstructing his positive energy.
Anyway, this witness just picked you out of a photo lineup.
Oh, and there's this.
The malt liquor bottle you were chugging when we first met.
It was still in the trash where I put it,
and guess whose DNA is all over it?
You're in a lot of trouble here, Mitch.
I'm waiting for my lawyer to get here.
Did you know they log your mail in prison?
That's how we know that two years ago,
you received a letter from Topher.
We found the original on Topher's laptop.
"Mitch. I'm writing to apologize."
"You deserve to know that I'm the one who turned you in to the DEA."
He goes on to explain that, in his previous life,
he was blinded by the pursuit of money.
If he'd really been sorry, he could've paid me my millions.
If you didn't have the money to invest,
they weren't really your millions. Were they?
Topher's letter said Devon tried to convince him not to do it.
So why'd you try to frame that poor brain-fried soul?
I'll wait for my lawyer.
You know, it's actually kind of a sweet gig.
I get to pick my own songs, play a little piano.
So you're a lounge singer now?
Yeah, I guess.
All right, the gang's all here.
Did I miss the big news?
Ravi was waiting for you.
Uh...
I've developed a serum that could potentially undo
the memory loss that accompanies the second zombie cure.
It could take several days to know if it works.
If it does, you'll get your memories back,
which would also mean we have 17 doses of a viable cure.
And what if it doesn't work?
The most likely risk is it doesn't do anything at all.
- And the less likely risks? - There could be side-effects.
- Could it kill him? - It probably won't.
But it could?
I'm sorry, gang, but I've got to pass.
Fear of death is the lock of humanity's prison.
I'm not afraid of dying, Liv. I'm afraid of remembering.
Find a guinea pig who wants to remember his old life, huh?
It's a chance to atone.
"Atone"?
If you won't take the serum,
the first person to take that risk will be Major,
who, let's be honest, is only a zombie because of you.
That's not who Blaine is anymore.
You're asking him to be the guinea pig, so Major doesn't have to.
She's right.
When I'm dying, I'm going to take the cure.
Then, when my memories start fading, I'm going to take the serum.
See, 'cause I'm going to want to remember my old life.
I understand why you may not.
A fundamentally decent person would realize you owe him.
- Ravi! - Let's take a breath.
Try to visualize ourselves in one another's shoes.
Okay.
I'll try that.
I'm Blaine.
I killed people for money.
- That's not what I... - I tortured you.
- I literally killed you. - Ravi, enough!
- Open your eyes, Peyton! - Oh, my eyes are wide open.
Why are you being such a dick?
It isn't obvious?
It's because I'm in love with you.
I'll do it.
Shoot me up, Doc.
Thank you.
You don't have to do this.
I know.
Do it.
Be you zombie, or be you man?
Just get on with it.
Ghost pepper, 500 times spicier than straight jalapeño.
A human bites into that, the whole block'll know.
Sold.
Lots of weird-ass peppers.
We can do tasting flights and...
Oh.
Hey.
This our new muscle?
I wouldn't say ours.
The club will offer brains of one's choosing.
For a price.
Dino's specialty is acquisitions.
Dope.
As for our establishment's name,
I give you the Scratching Post.
So?
That'll do, pig.
What about our customers who aren't crazy rich?
'Cause I've got to say, having Dino here whack a guy
every time you want lunch is super one-percent.
For our less high-end clientele,
I bought a hospital in Bangladesh.
It has one of highest mortality rates in the world.
- Love it. - Shipments will be arriving weekly.
So I figure, next week,
I'll approach Blaine's customers,
let them know there's a new supplier,
a new club, new ladies...
No.
- How... - No.
Let's get up and running, work the kinks out first.
We don't have any customers yet.
Make some then. Go to clubs.
Find those dimwits paying $500 for bottle service.
Do like our name says and scratch them.
Sweet.
You bet your ass, it's sweet.
Now run out and grab me an espresso while I tackle decor.
Why can't the big guy do it?
Dino suffers from small-fiber neuropathy.
His feet hurt.
Ice-blended.
- Hey. - You love me?
I do.
Then why have you been so awful to me?
Why haven't you been there for me?
I was held at gunpoint, Ravi. I thought I was going to die,
and yet somehow you've made this about you,
about your pride, about your jealousy.
I know. And I'm... I'm so sorry.
Pride. I'm done with it.
Look, it's only been a liability.
I was so excited that we were back together.
So was I.
Are you drunk?
A little.
Don't you get it?
The one thing that's stopping this from happening is you.
Understood.
Then... Then I am... I am officially stopping...
I'm stopping this from
stopping.
Screw it.
Is there someone here?
Wait, Peyton, please.
Oopsie.
The way we left things, I didn't think you...
Don't!
♪ Love will abide ♪
♪ Take things in stride ♪
♪ Sounds like good advice ♪
♪ But there's no one at my side ♪
♪ 'Cause I've done everything I know ♪
♪ To try and make you mine ♪
♪ And I think I'm gonna love you ♪
♪ For a long, long time ♪