Only Murders in the Building

We should do our own podcast.

Only Murders In The Building.

How do I know you?

Oh, Charles was in an... an old TV series.

What was it called? Bozos.

Brazzos.

I have to finish this. I have to see this through.

Do you like your Beats?

I can't get any work.

You have to sell the apartment.

It's all I have.

All in favor of evicting all three members of.

Murder, She Wrote?

A direct route into Bunny's.

You're sleeping with a murderer!

This ends now, Jan.

Hey, Bunny! Congrats!

You're the most hated person in the building now,

you cranky old bitch.

"Get out of the building now."

Mabel!

We gotta get her! I'm not leaving her here!

It's not what you think.

Bunny!

- Is that your knitting needle? - Yes!

Don't say a fucking word.

Coming this fall,

Only Murderers in the Building.

New York City.

Who doesn't want to become the talk of the town here?

I mean, make a name for yourself in this city,

and it can feel like the most sparkling place on Earth.

- It's that murder guy! Hey! - Hello.

Whoa!

Full of fireworks and excitement.

But, there are two ways you can become known here.

You can become famous for doing good things...

or you can become infamous

for doing truly terrible acts.

You wanna avoid that second one.

Whoa!

Look at you. Look at you,

you dusty, old, dried-up dribble dick.

You got no fuckin' idea how much trouble you're in, do you? Hm?

This guy's got no idea, huh?

- None. - You have no clue, huh?

What kind of a sloppy shit-mess

you choads are swimming into, right?

Right? No. - Uh...

You know, the only thing that could be worse for you two low-hanging,

dehydrated scrota-sacks...

is if you were her.

Yeah, yeah, I-I-I don't do podcasts. You know, I-I like Howard Stern.

You know, old Stern, before he started doing therapy

and got all gentrified and shit.

Back when it was just the Wack Pack and Butt Bongo.

Before Baba Booey got those big, filthy teeth fixed. You know, but I, uh...

I did try your podcast. Yeah. Mm.

It was ab... It's absolute shit. I mean, it really...

It sucks,

but this, uh,

one part from the first episode...

Let's just say it, uh...

stuck out.

I have this recurring dream. I'm in bed.

I wake up, and there's a man standing over me.

So, I kick him right in the nuts, and I grab my knitting needle,

and I take him down to the bone

with that thing.

That's you.

Lawyer.

What, y-you're asking for a lawyer?

No, I'm asking if you're a lawyer, you know, 'cause you're so smart.

- Sorry. - What?

No, my bad. It was a little funny.

- What, her? - W-what she said was a little funny.

What, you think you're Rodney Dangerfield?

- Oh. - Who?

Who?

Hold on a minute!

You can't pin this on Mabel.

She couldn't have done this!

I wanna believe you.

I really do.

But, do you hear what you are saying?

A woman magically appears, in your apartment,

with a goddamn knitting needle in her chest?

Come on.

- She... - What? She was what?

I went to get champagne,

and Bunny was just there.

That's all I remember...

- No. No. - Bullshit! This is bullshit!

Mabel, there's so many fucking holes in your story!

You know, there's more fucking holes in your story

than we have in our victim, and that's a lot of fucking holes.

Eight fucking holes, to be exact.

Do you think that it makes you seem tough saying "fuck" so much?

- What? - I mean, I get it

because I used to think the same thing,

but then I realized something. Do you wanna know what I realized?

Yeah, w-w-what you realize?

Fuck you. Lawyer.

Fuck.

She was gone for 2 minutes. We were celebrating. W-Why would she...

Okay, th-then l-l-let's just talk about you,

okay? L-let's talk about you.

You hated Bunny, right?

The Board President who wanted you out of the building

'cause you couldn't pay your rent, right?

Now that I think of it, I have had my doubts about Mabel.

You know, I played this scene 100 times on my show.

Especially season nine when the budget got cut,

and we could only afford to shoot in interrogation rooms.

So, I know your tricks.

Hi! Charles-Haden Savage!

That's a decorative mirror, Charles.

I think the two-way you looking for is on this wall.

- I knew that. - Mm-hmm.

The old decorative mirror trick.

Nice try. Might have worked.

On a moron .

- Sit down, Charles! - Yes, ma'am.

Let's cut to the chase now!

What did you do with the knife?

Knife?

Yeah. What did you do with the knife?

The blade. The one you used.

So, you have three people who solved two crimes

that you couldn't figure out,

who are now clearly being framed,

and you don't even have the real murder weapon?

It was you, right? Who texted us to get out of the building last night?

It most definitely was not me.

Gotcha. I knew that was you.

- I know you did not just wink at me. - Kinda did.

Wow! Look at this.

Hold it a second.

They cropped me out!?

This is such bullshit.

You know, I'm also involved in this.

Okay, alright. Focus. All eyes on me.

You are all... persons of interest now.

Thank you!

Meaning...

that we can't charge you. Yet.

But, that can change at any time

with new evidence.

And we are looking. Believe me.

Because that is our jobs, not yours.

So, that means no investigating,

that means no fucking podca...

Mora, please tell the tiny one to stop recording me.

- Oliver, put the phone down. - Oh...

This is your ticket to live your lives.

You're free to return to your homes. So,

get a new hobby. Now. I do not give a damn what it is.

Just as long as it doesn't land you in jail.

- Like knitting? - Alright, don't be a smart ass.

- It's kind of her thing. - Well, your thing is going to be

making toilet wine in a jail cell

if you don't step your lips. Got it? Go.

Come on! Go! Now!

- Oh my god! - Oh my god!

Oh my god!

Sweet freedom for the innocent!

And justice for all crime-fighters!

They were wrong!

Oliver Putnam can get arrested in this town!

And, oh, baby, does that feel wonderful.

We're live right now!

I'm not signing, please.

I'm just like you!

Like your Beats?

- Huh? - It's a callback

because we're right back where we...

Forget it.

- She's not wearing Beats. - I said forget it, didn't I?

So, uh, Bunny was just...

There, I think.

Did you see anyone else?

Well, how could that be?

Poor Bunny.

I mean, my god, we...

never got along, but still.

Poor Bun-Bun.

That plays right?

I mean, if you were on a jury, you'd...

- Oliver! - You know, it's very rare

for a true crime podcast to do a sequel.

They usually move on to a new case that never hits like the original,

like when they followed up the great Dead End with that, uh, Bill...

- Billy the Butcher. It was terrible. - Oh, that was the worst. Terrible.

So, you know, we have a...

we have a real opportunity here. - No, no.

You heard Detective Williams. We can't get tied into... I can't...

Oliver, stop!

I need a life away from death.

We should all just let ourselves be a little boring again.

Can I just say something?