Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Ka-blamo, scrubs.

I nailed it.

I solved Captain Holt's brain teaser

and found the location of our secret meeting.

The answer? The broom closet.

In your face.

- In whose face now? - Yours.

- Gina and I have been here 20 minutes.

- Though my presence is not puzzle-related.

I just followed Terry into a dark closet.

Hey.

You solved the puzzle before me.

Nerds.

They solved it first.

They're the nerds. I'm cool like you.

- Wait. Where's Captain Holt? Where's Amy?

- Yeah, she should be the first one here.

Doesn't she go to, like, an adult puzzle camp every summer?

- Yes, but please don't bring that up.

I've been throwing out her mailers.

- Guys, if those two aren't here,

I'm thinking we must be in the wrong place.

- No, trust me, we're definitely in the right place.

I'm 100% sure about this.

- Well, guess who solved the puzzle?

- Who? - We did.

Oh, we did?

- Yeah, we're in the wrong place.

- Thank you for all finally showing up.

Let's recap. As you know,

Jimmy "The Butcher" Figgis put out a hit on Adrian Pimento,

which the mob believes succeeded.

For his safety Pimento has gone off the grid.

- Remember, the only people we can trust

with this information are in this room.

- And Genevieve. We can trust Genevieve.

We share a life. I tell her everything.

- Fine, the people in this room, and Genevieve.

- Genevieve's mom also knows, but she's in a coma,

dead any second, we're good.

Okay.

- Unfortunately, we can't just arrest Figgis,

because he has a man inside the FBI.

The good news is,

we have a lead that's gonna break this case wide open:

Maura Figgis, Jimmy's sister.

She's currently serving

in a maximum security prison in Texas.

- A white woman in prison, in Texas?

She must be bad.

She murdered three people,

and she knows Figgis's operation,

so we're sending a detective in undercover as an inmate

to get close to her.

Yeah, and guys,

this isn't one of those women's prisons

that we've all seen being all sexy

on late-night cable.

You know, with the ladies touching each other's bits,

and there's kind of some lame jazz playing.

When these chicks fight, it's for real.

So be mature.

Peralta is gross, but correct.

Mm.

- This facility is a violent place

filled with hardened criminals

We need to send someone who can blend in.

Sir, I would be honored

to take on this challenging assignment.

Why is everyone laughing?

I can be a badass.

- You're raising your hand right now.

We're in a meeting.

- I just assumed Diaz would be the prisoner.

Nothing personal, it's just, you know...

she's terrifying.

- Thank you, Sir. - Mm-hmm.

Dismissed.

- Hey, that was crazy, right? I mean, I can be scary.

- Oh, yeah. I watch "Jeopardy" with you

and you're a straight-up psycho.

- Aww. Thanks, babe.

- I'll take "Awesome Girlfriends" for 500, Alex.

- I know you're being sweet, but don't disparage "Jeopardy."

Okay.

All right, listen up.

You're not gonna try to convince us

Mahler was the original punk rocker again, are you?

- No, the music is a classic counter-espionage maneuver.

I don't want to be overheard.

But, since you mention it,

Mahler was one in-your-face bad boy.

- Right, um, so, what's going on, sir?

Oh, I have a plan

to draw out Figgis's man in the FBI:

Throw a funeral for Pimento.

Now, before we, quote, unquote,

bury Pimento,

we need to, quote, unquote, open an investigation,

find a, quote, unquote, corpse,

and obtain a, quote, unquote, death certificate.

- Kind of feel like you could have just used

"air quotes."

- I can also wear short pants and drink for a jug

that says "XXX."

- Fake funeral's a good idea, sir,

but where are we gonna find a corpse?

We don't need one.

We just need pictures for the case file.

If I may,

imagine Pimento's dirty, pale body

being pulled out of a manhole

after a couple days' sewer bloat.

- Mm. - Now squint your eyes...

and look at Hitchcock.

Oh, yes.

I believe we've found our corpse.

You positively glow.

How do you feel? - Great.

I could smother somebody in their sleep with this thing.

Pregnancy's dope.

Whoa, bup, bup, bup.

That big old womb is not a weapon, okay?

It's just an excuse to talk to your doctors,

AKA, Charles and me, in private.

If you need to chat, just schedule an appointment

with Brent Kennedy, ob-gyn.

- And I'm Glen Kennedy, ob-gyn.

We're twins, like "Property Brothers,"

but for gynecology.

No, I said no to that idea.

- You are Isaac Schwartz, my older Jewish mentor,

and you are Isabel Cortez.

You're in for stabbing a man on the subway

46 times in the trachea.

Tight.

- The pregnancy stuff is my area of expertise.

Since Genevieve started fertility treatments,

it's all we talk about.

Now... show me your waddle.

- Mm-hmm. - Mm-hmm, okay.

- Yeah, yeah, yeah. - Okay, okay, okay.

Nice.

Good work.

You really look like a corpse.

- And I'm not even wearing makeup.

Time of death: 8:26 p.m.

Now all I have to do is sign as the coroner.

- You are disturbingly good at this.

- I grew up forging report cards.

If people knew how smart I was,

it would have been harder to control them.

- Now all we need is the death certificate

officially notarized.

- You want me to break the sacred oath I took

to become a notary?

It's not a problem. 'Cause... I'm a badass.

Just like Rosa.

So...

I am going to stamp this, and...

violate my oath...

- You can keep talking, but we're done here.

- Adrian Pimento is officially deceased.

Excellent.

All this sneaking around is exhilarating.

I can feel the adrenaline coursing through my body.

Coursing.

Isabel Cortez,

welcome to your new home.

- This is gonna be fun. - Really?

What are your weekends like, Diaz?

- All right. It's time, Detective.

- Don't forget, you're seven months pregnant.

Your cervix is ripening as we speak.

- Mention my cervix again and I will rip your throat out.

- I don't understand. You don't like it

when he talks about your cervix ripening?

Okay, have fun.

They grow up so fast.

Okay, fresh meat.

You're being transferred here

because you made trouble in your last prison.

That won't fly here. Stay in your lane.

- Hey. You're that cop

who arrested me three years ago in Brooklyn.

Uh...

Amy Santiago,

you're going to prison.

- I don't know. Is anyone gonna buy it?

I mean, do I look pregnant?

I mean...

I guess I can see it.

I think it's amazing.

Oh, Jake and Amy and baby makes three.

I don't know if I believe in God,

but I have prayed for this.

That is psychotic.

- All right, Ames, let's go over your cover story again.

Okay.

My name is Isabel Cortez, I'm in for murder,