‐ MEGAN: I don't believe in ghosts.
‐ LUKE: Neither do I.
I just work with them.
‐ I still have these moments
when I think maybe you should be detained and studied.
‐ Well, you'd have to buy me dinner first.
Zooey! You get to drive Susan out to the coast.
‐ ZOOEY: And leave her for dead, right?
‐ This is why we don't have HR.
‐ SUSAN: I just thought you were
the office manager.
‐ ZOOEY: I contain multitudes. ‐ LUKE: Anything else?
‐ PHIL: Who's the referring agent?
‐ ZOOEY: Seriously? ‐ LUKE: Rita Weiss.
‐ AUGUST/PHIL: Hm.
‐ SUSAN: This got scary fast.
‐ GABRIEL: I know I'm late
but people took forever
and there's no way they could afford the place.
I'm on my way, Honey.
Okay! As fast as I can! Geez!
[ Mysterious music ]
[ Grunt ]
Whew!
Hnh‐‐
‐ RADIO HOST: A touch after 5 o'clock
on this beautiful Tuesday afternoon.
Next up, handyman Andrew Anderson
talks to us about the wonders of
low maintenance composite decking.
Some might call it a mundane topic.
‐ FEMALE RADIO GUEST: Well, there is fun
in the mundane! ‐ [ Clattering ]
[ Radio host and guest laugh ]
[ Arrow vibrating ]
[ Loud sneeze ]
‐ GUY 1: Beat ya!
‐ GUY 2: Pass me another one,
would ya?
♪♪♪♪♪
‐ Sorry. You asked for it.
‐ All right, here's to Friday
and a weekend of possibilities.
On the count of three. One...
Two... three!
[ Loud sneeze ]
[ Arrow slicing through air ]
[ Dramatic music ]
[ Theme music ]
[ Thud ]
[ Passersby reacting in shock ]
[ Man screaming ]
[ Car door closes ]
‐ RITA: You're late.
‐ For our 9:30 meeting, which you rescheduled twice?
[ Laughs ] ‐ Look,
I'm giving you this listing. It's a present.
Like the dollar bills all those sad women used
to tuck into your Speedo in college.
‐ Why me?
‐ Taking some time off.
You remember my assistant, Gabriel?
‐ Oh, I try not to get attached to your assistants, Rita.
They're like bunnies in cosmetics testing ‐‐
you just know something terrible's
going to happen to them.
‐ He died.
The dim bulb ran into a tree branch.
It went through his eye socket and into his brain.
Who knew he even had one? Ha.
‐ I'm sorry for your loss.
‐ Yeah, well, I've had this vacation
on the books for months and now this happens.
Gabriel's final middle finger from the grave.
‐ Is this why you're giving me the listing?
‐ Look, if you don't want it, I'll call someone normal.
‐ Let's go inside and look around.
‐ Sorry, but Mister "I'm going to die
and complicate Rita's life" took the lockbox code
when he became a baritone in the choir eternal.
I've got a locksmith coming out later.
Anything else? I need to pack.
‐ Again: why me?
‐ Gabriel's death wasn't the first on the premises.
It's your kind of place.
[ Eerie music ]
[ Mysterious music ]
‐ We should send flowers or something.
‐ Gabriel was Rita's assistant.
Almost qualifies as euthanasia. ‐
‐ There is more. The house has history.
‐ PHIL: So, the former owner,
Catherine Owens,
was arrested for murdering her tenant about a year ago.
‐ Hm. Nana broke bad.
‐ Miz Owens was kind of agoraphobic.
Owned the place for ten years, hardly ever left...
Just sat in there playing her cello.
Cops had to drag her out. ‐
‐ She ever confess?
‐ Says she plead innocent.
No other fingerprints or forced entry...
Jury saw enough circumstantial evidence to convict.
‐ What happened to the victim?
‐ Well, it just says a head wound.
Let me see if I can get any more specifics.
‐ Would it be insensitive to ask why we care?
‐ Hm.
‐ Well, it's our listing.
We have a duty to report any murder
to any prospective buyers.
Wouldn't hurt to know the details.
‐ Rita didn't mention any residual phenomena?
‐ Of course it could have
slipped her mind in her crushing grief.
When you do the PKT, stay outside the house for now.
We don't know what we don't know yet.
‐ AUGUST: It seems overly cautious.
‐ I get a big "stay out" vibe from this house, Augie.
Until we know what's up, just use the exterior sensor.
I have a meeting but I'll be reachable.
‐ Oh! Ah, that reporter from Channel Six keeps calling.
Do you want me to forward the message?
‐ Hey, do you know an Edwin Calabasas?
‐ Left us a bunch of staticky voicemail messages.
Turns out he owns one of those big old houses on University Row
and wants to list it ASAP.
‐ Wow. Those sell instantly. How'd he find us?
‐ He said we were recommended by an associate
and he couldn't remember the name.
‐ Okay, two listings with no sellers
looking over our shoulders.
How lucky are we?
[ Calm music ]
[ Seagulls squawking ]
‐ Hm. Your dad used to make this?
‐ MEGAN: I looked forward to it
every weekend.
My dad marinated the chicken for hours.
Then he'd cook it in oil and sugar 'til it caramelized
and he'd add other spices and stuff.
And he'd make enough for ten or twelve people.
And the house was filled with this wonderful smell.
I used to think Trinidad must be this wonderful place
that always smelled like a Sunday afternoon.
‐ It's really good.
‐ Mm, I love this place, Zaboca.
They make the best Pelau in town,
but dad's recipe spoiled me for life.
[ Chuckles ]
Parents.
They mess you up, right?
Sorry.
‐ No, it's okay, you're right.
My dad made me a Padres fan.
[ Laughs ]
‐ What time is it?
I have a ton of classes and labs to register for.
‐ Already? We haven't even looked at any listings!
The new condos on Daly ‐‐ they're incredible.
Beautiful views. I can get you a deal!
[ Kiss sound ]
‐ I'm gonna send you a link! Hot, 11‐foot ceilings
in your area, waiting to meet you!
‐ ZOOEY: Ew.
‐ What?
‐ This lady got her eye shot out with an arrow.
[ Elevator arriving ding, doors roll open ]
‐ It's all fun and games until someone pokes an eye out.
‐ Hm. [ Rita clears her throat ]
‐ I need to see your superior. [ Zooey laughs awkwardly]
‐ Uh, Luke's out. What's up, Rita?
‐ He asked to see the open house guest book for the Owens house.
Here.
‐ So, what, this was, uh...
Last Saturday?
‐ Mm‐hm.
Feel free to sell the Owens place to one of those people
but the other 15 names on that list are my clients
and out‐of‐bounds. Mitts off.
‐ Anybody here was particularly interested?
‐ Mm, I'm afraid my assistant took that insight to his grave.
‐ He's literally in a better place now.
‐ If so, he's wearing some kind of corrective lenses.
‐ He died from a stick through the eye.
[ Scoffs ]
Bye‐bye!
‐ PHIL: Huh.
[ Curious music ]
[ Mumbling ]
‐ We better call Luke.
This woman is on the list.
[ Mysterious music ]
[ Low rumble ]
[ Door rattles and squeaks open ]
[ Door squeaks ]
‐ Oh, I don't think so.
[ Mysterious music swells ] [ Door slams shut ]
‐ AUGUST: It's like it was daring me
to come inside.
‐ I'm glad you didn't.
[ Gentle music ]
‐ The exterior sensor
should still allow us to monitor its activity.
‐ Telling me four deaths have been associated with this house?
‐ ZOOEY: Yep.
Four counting the original murder victim.
‐ Okay, let's just look at the first name
on the open house list for a second ‐‐
Marcy Nunes. Had an accident at home.
Tuesday.
‐ Yeah. Impaled herself with a knitting needle;
right through the eye.
‐ Like Gabriel. We are sure?
‐ Yeah, I confirmed with my contact at the coroner's.
Then, three days later,
Anna Mayer.
Bizarre archery‐related mishap.
‐ God, so much death and yet Rita Weiss
still walks the earth.
‐ Rita Weiss wasn't at this open house.
Knowing her management style,
it's possible she never even went inside at all.
It's like this house doesn't want any visitors.
‐ It seemed to invite me in.
‐ Gabriel died on Saturday. Marcy Nunes, what? Tuesday?
‐ Then Anna on Friday.
‐ Three days apart. Anything?
‐ Oh, pick your poison: Celtic Triads, Holy Trinity,
the Osirian triad, all of Pythagoras.
‐ Okay, so the first thing we need to do is warn
the next name on the list.
Three days from Friday is tonight.
Ross Parsons.
‐ Phil, you'll get in touch? ‐ Mm‐hm.
‐ Call the warden, Braden Correctional.
Let's see if I can get a few minutes
with Catherine Owens.
‐ Think she has an accomplice?
‐ Think she might be innocent.
[ Music fades out ]
‐ Oh!
‐ I can say cheese in the next one.
[ Laughs ]
Oh! My bad.
‐ No big thing. [ Laughs ]
‐ I'm Reese. You can, uh, come on up. Who're you here to see?
Taylor? Or it's probably, uh, Mason, actually.
Wha! Watch your, uh‐‐
‐ Oh! ‐ ...step. Hm. Party foul.
‐ Ha‐ha! ‐ Hm.
‐ I'll, uh, yeah, I'll go wake up the Maceman.
We had quite a night last night, but I'm sure he'll be happy
you're here. You guys can talk...
compounds and, uh, valencies and whatnot.
I‐I'm sorry, you are the, uh...
chemistry tutor his dad hired, right?
‐ I sell houses.
I left you three messages.
‐ Right. Right. I'm, uh‐‐ wh‐what'd they say?
‐ Your landlord's selling the house.
I just need to take some quick pictures.
‐ Don't know how I feel about that.
‐ Great. Great!
‐ Yeah. Sure. [ Clears throat ]
[ Music thumps upstairs ]
‐ Oh, my god!
This is a dumpster with utilities.
‐ Yeah, we like it.
Look, I'm going to be honest with you, all right?
Our landlord is kind of a douche, all right?
And I don't really like the idea of helping him sell,
but this new owner jacks up our rent‐‐
‐ He has the right to sell his own property.
‐ Yeah. Yeah‐yeah‐yeah, of course. But, uh...
talk to the boys first, right? And our buddy, Chops,
he's pre‐law, so
he'll know something about our constitutional human rights.
‐ By all means, consult Chops, but I need these photos.
‐ You gotta call me. Tomorrow, no later.
I mean it.
‐ Just gotta find the phone.
‐ I'll let myself out.
‐ You do that.
‐ ROSS: So, you're saying
I'm going to die by a thing through my eye?
This sounds like so much bullshit.
‐ Three people are ahead of you on that list.
All three have died.
You appear to be next‐‐
‐ Because we looked at a house.
‐ We don't know.
But I thought you should, at the very least‐‐
‐ Buy the house?
‐ Well, I was going to suggest that you be careful.
Take a few precautions.
[ Gentle music ]
[ Chuckles ]
‐ GUARD: Stay where you are.
Just a moment.
[ indistinct conversations ]
‐ CATHERINE: I don't know you.
‐ Luke Roman. Thanks for seeing me.
‐ There was a window in my busy schedule.
‐ Ms. Owens, I am the, uh, real estate agent
who's in charge of selling your, uh...
The house you used to live in.
‐ I thought you were a writer.
Or one of those movie people.
A commission‐craving house hooker.
What a disappointment!
‐ I see you've been talking to my mom.
‐ I do love my house.
How is it?
‐ Well, I was just there the other day. It's fine.
‐ But you did not go in.
‐ Ms. Owens ‐‐ Catherine? ‐‐
you've always claimed to be innocent
of Amos Allenby's murder.
‐ I have.
Because I am.
‐ I think that it is possible
we might be able to help you prove that.
‐ You think so?
‐ How long had you had Mister Allenby as a tenant?
‐ Four weeks.
Maybe five.
I did my best to pretend he wasn't there.
‐ When did you find out he died?
‐ When the police told me my prints were on
the murder weapon.
I wasn't aware I even owned a murder weapon.
Surprise!
It was my bow, the bow from my cello...
covered with my fingerprints.
People are such snobs about their precious Pernambucos
but carbon fiber provides the perfect blend of flexibility
and strength.
I suppose the murderer proved that.
[ Tense music ]
Perhaps there's an endorsement in his future.
‐ At the time of the murder, you were...?
‐ Riding my bicycle by the water,
like I did most afternoons.
‐ By yourself?
‐ The killer knew my patterns,
my habits,
and found them suitable for framing.
[ Scoffs ]
‐ Being in here is a pretty good alibi.
This past week, three people who attended an Open House
at your home died.
In a way very similar to Mister Allenby.
Officially, they're all accidents.
‐ But unofficially?
‐ If you're in here,
maybe the killer is still out there.
‐ Real estate agents fighting crime.
I thought you spent your time posing for bus benches.
[ Laughs ]
[ Eerie music ]
‐ Look,
can't promise you anything but, uh, we're going to look into it.
I'll be in touch.
‐ Mister Roman...
Take good care of my house.
Do sell it to somebody nice.
[ Prison door buzzer ]
[ Indistinct distant voices ]
[ Bass boom ]
[ Busy restaurant atmosphere ]
‐ So I said, "Look, I'm not trying to be an asshole,
but there's no excuse for missing that deadline." Okay?
Now, I know you're a vegetarian. You just‐‐
‐ Whoa.
‐ Jeezus...
You'd think they'd be a little careful.
Awesome. Yeah, this is what I'm talking about.
Best steak in the city.
‐ BOY 1: Give it to me!
‐ It's great, thanks. Keep it coming, okay?
Hey!
[ Diners react ]
Ahh!
‐ MALE DINER: God! Oh my god. Oh!
‐ Mom!
‐ Is there a doctor here?
‐ ZOOEY: Friends say Parsons was smart,
friendly and enjoyed fine dining.
‐ I should have scared him more.
Should have done something.
‐ No. No way.
‐ You warned him.
‐ I was pretty sure the house was the problem
until I looked into Catherine's eyes.
‐ And what'd you see?
‐ Arrogance.
Precision. A kind of self‐satisfaction
you don't expect in a correctional setting.
What have you got?
‐ The, uh,
PKT monitor showed very little initial activity.
But we clearly see psychokinetic energy
rise steadily for 48 hours until it peaks here.
Spikes, actually.
‐ Right when Ross Parsons was getting his eye poked out.
‐ And exactly three days after
Anna Mayer got her shot to the eye.
‐ What kind of monster wreaks vengeance
on a few looky‐loos at an open house?
‐ I'm gonna look into death markers, tracers, homers...
‐ Rippers?
‐ Could be rippers.
Maybe look at hollabacks, too, flycasters, inkstains.
‐ Mumfords.
‐ Wait, what are these things? What's a Mumford?
‐ It's a spirit that does the same thing
over and over and over again.
‐ Hey, I like Mumford and Sons.
‐ I keep coming back to precision.
‐ What about a Poindexter?
‐ What about...
Even worse?
‐ What? Peabody?
Nah, a killing spree is way off‐brand
for a Peabody.
‐ Oh, shit. A Watchmaker.
‐ It fits. You gotta admit.
‐ Oh, dear.
‐ Bring me along here, guys. What's a Watchmaker?
‐ They came over with the flood of German immigration
in the mid‐1800's.
They gave us kindergarten and Christmas trees and Watchmakers.
‐ Basically, it's a very methodical demon
that does very bad things in the same way
in a very precise order.
‐ We need to find all the people that went to that open house.
We need to warn them. We need to scare them,
if we have to ‐‐ it is literally life or death.
‐ That's gonna be a problem.
This is the next name in the book.
‐ SUSAN: Is that even a name?
‐ Is there a number? An email?
So, we just need to warn a nameless, faceless person
that they're the next victim of a nameless, faceless killer.
‐ I have my own problems.
‐ Reese?
‐ It's the real estate lady!
‐ That is correct.
‐ Hi. Can you open the door?
‐ Sure.
Taylor, Mase.
[ Mischievous music ]
‐ Hm.
You didn't call.
‐ Yeah? No. Yeah!
That was, uh, on advice of counsel.
‐ How is Chops?
‐ Chops says that you need a warrant.
‐ I'm not a cop! I don't want your weed.
‐ Unaware of this, uh, "weed" you speak of.
‐ Reese, I just need the pictures, okay?
Please?
‐ Oh, I'm getting real disappointed mom vibes from you
and I already got one of those, so...
You're gonna need to go. Sorry. No pictures.
‐ If‐‐ Yo‐‐
[ Door slams shut ]
‐ I am so sorry, I hate to do this
especially since you're already on our bench.
‐ Oh, this bench isn't so special.
I'll hang with anyone who sits down.
‐ DUCK MAN: We attack at dawn!
[ Imitating duck ] Let me go!
‐ Oh, he seems nice.
So, you have class tonight?
‐ Nah, think I'll just chill at home.
Got a huge endocrinology lab coming up.
Maybe head up to the attic and have a pillow fight
with your mom?
Or, maybe you should help me...
find a new place?
‐ I'll call you. I promise.
‐ Goodbye.
‐ It's a lovely property in a desirable neighborhood,
Mister Calabasas, but the current‐‐
[ Clears throat ]
tenants are being difficult.
‐ They're parasites.
Overprivileged, little dung beetles
who chose my property as... shit shack.
I've tried to evict them.
Now, I just want them to be someone else's problem.
‐ We need great photos to sell the place.
Then we'll "leak" the listing to a‐a curated list of investors
and parents who want a great campus location,
or income property. It'll sell instantly.
‐ I've chosen the right agent.
‐ But it all starts with the photos.
Nothing fancy, empty rooms is fine,
but they won't‐‐
‐ You figure it out.
The thought of those little tapeworms burrowing deeper
into my portfolio vexes me. I can't rest.
‐ Sir, you should know that‐‐
‐ I have every confidence in you, Ms. Ireland.
Goodbye.
‐ I'm not even sure these characters are from
the modern English alphabet.
‐ Zooey, who do we use for legal work?
‐ Wait, you want to sic a lawyer on the frat guys?
‐ I need the photos.
‐ That is the absolutely the wrong way to do it.
All right. One question:
Did you ever own or operate an iron during college?
‐ Natural fabrics require proper care.
‐ Hm. We have our answer.
‐ I just need the name of the lawyer.
‐ All right, look, I...
[ Mischievous music ]
... can get you your photos without the lawyer.
‐ Why would you, even if you could?
‐ Because
I am
loving the fact
that you can't. Hm‐hm.
‐ Fabulous for you.
[ Suspenseful music ]
[ Low, bass rumble ]
[ Sigh ]
[ Phone keyboard clicking ]
[ Line trilling ]
‐ PHIL: Hey, Luke.
‐ Any luck on the autograph of the damned?
‐ Nope. August is trying to hack Gabriel's email,
see if there's anything there.
‐ Another great idea.
I always send out follow‐up emails for open houses.
‐ I'm all over it.
‐ Look, I talked off‐the‐record to a guy I know.
A homicide detective. As far as they're concerned,
these are all accidents.
Whoever's doing this knows exactly where the victim is
and how to murder them at any precise moment.
‐ Not any moment. Three‐day intervals.
Why not just knock them all off at once?
‐ I'm telling you, it's gotta be a Watchmaker.
‐ Whatever it is,
we're running out of time.
[ Dramatic music ]
‐ REESE: Boom. Boom.
Boom! You did not see that coming! Ha‐ha‐ha.
‐ Wow, that was awesome! Can you show me?
‐ Yeah. It's just, uh, B, left, down, up.
[ Video game audio stops ]
‐ I‐I'm sorry. Who are you?
‐ I'm Zooey.
I live, um, over there. Anyways, um...
me and my roommates, Amber and Sheera,
we were doing this Tik Tok challenge where we, like,
party in every room in every house on the block.
‐ MASON: Sounds like a lot of work.
‐ Omigod, I know, right?
Thought it was going to be, like, way easy.
I just came from next door.
No offense, but they are, like, really boring.
‐ Well, we are way more fun.
[ Laughs with mouth closed ]
‐ If you are, you usually don't have to say that.
You guys are kind of cute.
Can I post you doing the Wake Down dance?
‐ Um...
‐ So easy and my roommates would, like, die.
‐ Ta, sure.
‐ Yeah? Awesome! Let me hook up to your Bluetooth.
‐ TAYLOR: All right.
‐ Sweet! We just got to, like, clear all this...
stuff.
‐ [ indecipherable ] I can move it?
‐ Yeah, like, now.
‐ Move it? ‐ Yeah.
‐ Oh, okay. Sure. Yeah.
‐ Sweet.
‐ Um, okay, this will go over here?
‐ Just over there. No! Watch the floor.
‐ Watch the floor, she says!
‐ Ah! Yeah. There you go.
‐ Ohhhh! Skate style.
Does it have to‐have to come down?
‐ Just move that right over there.
‐ Whoa! Whoa‐ho.
[ High‐energy dance music ]
‐ Fantastic, boys!
‐ It's dance thing?
‐ Yeah.
Ready, boys?
‐ Mm‐hm.
‐ Five‐six...
Seven, eight.
[ "Cookies on my Plate" by Richard Mead and Cayte Webber ]
♪♪♪ Cookies on my plate While life can make me wait ♪♪♪
♪♪♪ Cookies on my plate I've got cookies on my plate ♪♪♪
♪♪♪ Cookies on my plate While life can make me wait ♪♪♪
♪♪♪ Cookies on my plate, wha ♪♪♪
♪♪♪ Oh‐oh‐oh‐oh ♪♪♪
‐ SUSAN: Can you get a lower angle?
‐ I said I have got this.
♪♪♪♪♪
‐ God, Zooey, it's like you have some strange, hypnotic power
over these poor boys.
Thank goodness you're using it for good
and not evil.
Ooh! I'm trying to show off some of that crown molding.
‐ All right, guys, back to ones!
[ Upbeat music with clapping hands ]
Good, job, boys!
We got it!
Guys?
Oh!
‐ Ah. I got you. Pull.
[ Phone buzzing ]
‐ Yeah. Phil.
‐ Hey, you visit the prison yet?
‐ I'm on my way. ‐ Okay, stop.
Just stop. I found something.
‐ Okay.
‐ In 1969, a 16‐year‐old named Margaret Heyward
died at Adreniland on a school trip.
The safety bar on her chair swing
came up all by itself.
‐ So? ‐ Okay,
three days earlier
Margaret Heyward had recently bested
half a dozen classmates to become first‐chair cello.
‐ So?
‐ Second chair was her best friend,
Catherine Owens.
‐ Three days...
‐ Exactly three days.
[ Mysterious music ]
[ Boys laughing ]
‐ I did it! Whoo.
‐ All right, let's post!
‐ Oh, I would, but‐‐
‐ You want a beer?
‐ Sorry, my ride's coming.
‐ Oh, um...
So...
you, uh, want to hang out some time or...?
‐ Oh,
Reese.
I'm grown enough to be your hot,
unattainable, slightly ‐‐
slightly ‐‐
older cousin.
‐ All right, so...
You'll text me?
‐ Okay, bye.
[ Mischievous music ]
[ Car door opens, engine starts ]
[ Sighs ]
‐ I have no words.
‐ I think that's best.
[ Exhales ]
Are they still looking?
‐ Yeah. ‐ Okay, can you go now?
‐ Yeah. ‐ Please? Thank you.
[ Music fades out ]
[ Prison door clangs shut ]
‐ CATHERINE: All this attention.
You're gonna turn a girl's head.
‐ Tell me: how'd you do it?
‐ I don't know what you mean.
‐ You didn't like Amos Allenby.
‐ He was in my house.
Did you know he watched me in my shower, Mr. Roman?
‐ But what about Margaret Heyward?
You killed your best friend because she beat you out
for first chair?
[ Tense music ]
‐ I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.
[ Deep bass thump ]
‐ I think we should talk tomorrow.
There will be lots to talk about tomorrow.
[ Eerie music turns playful ]
[ Notification chime ]
[ Phone line trilling; click ]
‐ Mr. Calabasas? Susan Ireland.
The listing is live!
The offers should start rolling in.
Um, I've sent you the link
and I just want to make sure that you‐‐
‐ Splendid. Contact my attorney when you have offers.
He'll be pleased to consummate the sale.
‐ So, I‐I should talk to him, not you?
‐ You've ‐‐ great help to
‐ Uh.
‐ ...at last, I can move on.
‐ Sorry, you're breaking up. I can't‐‐
[ Line disengages ]
‐ Hello?
[ Static ]
[ Phone into cradle ]
[ Gentle music ]
[ Keys clacking ]
[ Access denied beep ]
[ Keys clacking ]
[ Quiet electronic hums and whistles ]
‐ Hm.
Hm.
[ Eerie music ]
‐ Hey, I'm sorry. Did you order?
You're starving. [ Phone rings ]
‐ Luke, I love seeing you,
but if work is too crazy, I get it.
‐ No, I need to eat. Let's eat.
Here we are, two normal adults, eating.
[ Phone rings uninterrupted ]
‐ The Owens house has just been‐been nothing but trouble.
‐ Oh.
[ Phone message vibration ]
‐ I'm sorry, it's just...
‐ I can't believe people were into that house.
That striped wallpaper in the hallway?
Made me crave a peppermint stick!
Or a haircut! God!
[ Tense music ]
‐ What?
‐ You were in the Owens open house?
‐ You caught me, Luke. I'm cheating on you.
I'm seeing other agents.
I hope we can still be friends.
‐ Your email...
wasn't on the guest list.
‐ I gave it to the guy afterward.
Verbally.
Luke, what's wrong?
You told me to look at anything I liked.
[ Emotional music ]
‐ WAITRESS: I'll give you guys a minute.
‐ What about the spoons?
‐ You really think she's going to get spooned in the eye?
‐ Guys in prison sharpen those things and use it as a shiv.
‐ Spoons.
[ Energetic music ]
[ Electronic buzzes and chirps ]
‐ Mm. This is ridiculous.
‐ Okay. You're scaring me.
‐ Why did you scribble like that on the sign‐in sheet?
‐ That's how I sign my name!
‐ Hm. You'll make a great doctor.
‐ August, what's your timeline? What could we do here?
‐ If the, uh, PKT patterns from the Owens house
continue to replicate those recorded before the, uh...
the untimely passing of Ross Parsons,
it will peak ‐‐ roughly four hours.
‐ She likes to keep to her schedule.
‐ Yeah, she has to. Gotta take a lot out of you,
structuring destinies to smite your enemies.
You'd need some recovery time, too.
‐ Three days.
Then your eye lights up, see your next target and...
boing!
‐ Sorry.
But remember: she's a watchmaker.
She has to kill in the order of the list.
Anything messes up the schedule, or the order, it's a problem.
‐ Enormous problem.
‐ Game changer.
‐ You guys know how dumb this sounds, right?
‐ The truth can be dumb.
But that doesn't stop it from being, you know, true.
‐ Now, see, if you would have said that,
it would have come off all brilliant and ironic.
‐ Delivery.
‐ Okay. Check this out.
‐ Meter readers. Cable guys. Jehovah's Witnesses.
All of them entered Catherine's house at some point
and all of them died from a bizarre accident afterwards.
This lady is a Dahmer‐scale mass murderer,
but since everything looks like an accident,
nobody ever noticed.
‐ I've never even met her!
And didn't you say she was already in jail
when I went to the open house?
‐ When you went inside,
she saw you.
The house had marked you somehow.
Now she's aware of where you are.
‐ Probably not a constant awareness.
I mean, structuring events in the mind? That's one thing.
Omniscient awareness? [ Sucks teeth ]
That's reserved for God.
‐ And Facebook.
‐ She is not watching you right now but she will be soon.
‐ Yeah. In four hours.
‐ So,
that's when she takes something like Phil's tablet stylus
and pokes it into my frontal lobe?
[ Stylus hits chair ]
‐ Dude!
‐ Why is she doing this?
‐ I don't know.
‐ So what if it doesn't?
‐ What?
‐ What if it fails?
What if it gets off schedule or out of sequence...
What happens then?
‐ That's an interesting question.
Watchmakers need everything in sequence,
in order.
[ Bass rumble ]
‐ AUGUST: One, two, three.
‐ But if we interrupt that order...
‐ One, two... four.
‐ You throw it into a loop.
‐ What kind of a loop?
‐ Imagine a computer with a spinning wheel that never ends,
searching for an answer it can never find.
‐ An electronic stroke.
[ Uplifting music ]
[ Footsteps ]
‐ I know that this is a desperate time
and I really want to be here for both of you,
but
I just got a cash offer on Calabasas,
20 grand above asking.
Would it be in horribly bad taste if I...?
‐ Go, for crying out loud.
‐ Go. Take care of business.
She powerful enough to get past Zooey, we are all doomed.
[ Megan sighs ]
‐ Where're you going?
‐ To the bathroom.
One door away.
You removed everything sharp, including the hand soap.
[ Construction sounds ]
[ Phone ringing ]
‐ Hey. Don't be mad.
‐ What are you, crazy? What are you do‐‐?
‐ Look, I remembered:
today's the last day to register for my endocrinology lab.
I needed to get that lab in person or my year is shot!
Okay, you can be all mad at me
when I get back.
‐ This is your life.
‐ I'm fine! I gotta go.
[ Gasps ]
‐ Oops! Sorry.
[ Breathing heavily ]
‐ CONTRUCTION WORKER: Hey‐hey‐hey. Whoa‐whoa‐whoa.
[ Heavy sigh ]
[ Gasp; scream ]
[ Excited voices ]
[ Emotional music ]
[ Heavy door squeaks open ]
[ Foreboding music ]
‐ Well,
aren't we a little dark raincloud today.
[ Door locks ]
‐ Why?
She did nothing to you and she meant nothing to you.
Before I dispatched that little shit‐weasel
who watched me in the shower,
hardly anyone entered my house.
I was hungry.
But now I have real estate people,
lookers, shoppers...
Soon I'll have a family.
And they'll all have horrible accidents.
And the whole wonderful dance
will begin again.
Precisely
three
days
at a time.
[ Chair scrapes violently across cement floor ]
You loved her, didn't you?
[ Rhythmic tapping continues ]
Better to have loved and lost,
no?
[ Dark, foreboding music ]
[ Triumphant music ]
[ Door opening ]
[ Whooshes ]
‐ SECURITY OFFICER: Need a medic in visits!
Code blue! Medic in visits! Code Blue!
Code blue! Medic!
[ Music fades out ]
‐ It's the Calabasas commission.
‐ Ooh. Doing deposits this afternoon.
‐ By the way, Luke approved a bonus for you on it.
You earned it.
‐ Thank you so much for assigning a dollar value
to my dignity.
[ Envelope rustling ]
‐ Ooh. Not bad.
[ Paper rustling ]
‐ That's odd.
‐ What?
[ Dialing phone number ]
[ Line trilling ]
‐ LATTIMORE: James Lattimore.
‐ Mr. Lattimore, you are Edwin Calabasas' attorney, correct?
‐ That is correct.
‐ This is Susan Ireland.
I just received a commission from a property we sold
for Mister Calabasas?
‐ The Edwin Calabasas Memorial Trust
has real estate holdings all over the world.
I assume they hired you.
‐ I actually dealt with Mister Calabasas directly.
‐ Ah‐ha. That's not possible, Ms. Ireland.
Mister Calabasas passed on eight years ago.
Will there be anything else?
‐ Un, no, that's everything. Thank you!
‐ So, to recap,
we got hired by a ghost
to cleanse his house
of the people who were haunting it.
‐ Hey, as long as the check clears.
[ Mischievous music ]
‐ So, what just happened?
‐ She's a watchmaker. She knew you'd be dead,
yet she saw you alive.
Enough of a paradox to send her into a loop.
‐ Forever?
‐ Well, way beyond Catherine Owens' expiration.
‐ Good.
I'd hate to have died in vain.
[ "Aye Aye Aye" by Bodyshakes plays ]
♪♪♪ Well, I‐I‐I‐I wanna make you cry ♪♪♪
♪♪♪ But I, I, I, I Gotta take my time ♪♪♪
♪♪♪ Yeah, you ♪♪♪
♪♪♪ got a lot to say ♪♪♪
♪♪♪ I'm gonna break it down, baby ♪♪♪
♪♪♪ And I bet you that We're all the same. ♪♪♪
♪♪♪♪♪
[ "Aye Aye Aye" fades out ]
[ Doors close ]
‐ That was a hell of a performance.
‐ Oh, you killed it.
‐ So, now what?
‐ Well, first off, we need to find you a proper home.
One without devil dogs, aggressive fireplaces,
strange noises, or any members of my immediate family.
‐ Ah! Sounds dreamy.
[ Laughs ]
‐ Could it have a whirlpool tub?
‐ Jeez.
Clients, man!
[ Laughing ]
[ Car starts ]
♪♪♪ "Aye Aye Aye" reprise ♪♪♪