iZombie

Previously on "iZombie"...

I don't think it's a good idea for us to mix business

with whatever it is we were doing.

I know all the reasons it can't work but I don't care,

I want us to be together again.

If we're gonna make any real headway with the Super Max recipe,

we need the DNA of a coherent functional zombie.

- Oh my god, are you okay? - I'm fine.

Hey, you! Didn't know you existed outside the station.

Liv, Major, this is Agent Bozzio from the FBI.

Seems like romance is in the air.

I find it fascinating that we never talk about your love life.

Morning, stranger.

Hangover cure?

Just a weird craving. (CHUCKLES)

At least it's not hollandaise sauce, right?

So, where have you been sleeping, young lady?

At my, uh, boyfriend's.

What?

Since when do you have a boyfriend?

I used to be engaged to him. So he kinda had a head start.

Oh.

So that's happening, huh?

I mean, he's still quality, grade-a boyfriend material.

Barely used.

Of course.

Sorry. I had the worst experience trying to pick things back up with an ex.

What happened?

Oh, after a few glorious weeks,

we realized all the things that broke us up hadn't really gone away.

But I'm sure you guys'll be great.

I gotta run.

Regina!

Do I know you?

You brought this on yourself.

Argh!

- Stay away from... - (REGINA GRUNTING)

Help! Help!

Help!

You...

Whoever you are, you messed with the wrong woman.

- (GUNSHOT) - (GASPS)

Get in the car. Get in the car!

Regina Sumner. Thirty-three.

She's a wedding planner who rents office space in the building.

No camera in the garage. No witnesses.

Killer left her wallet and her purse.

See these bruises?

Uh, looks like the killer punched her before shooting her.

Oh, what did I miss?

Well, well, well. Look who finally bothered to show up.

Don't start. I've had the worst morning.

Yeah? Worse than hers?

Are you okay?

I know her.

We used to date.

I'm so sorry, Clive. That's awful.

Found the gun under a car. It's a 9 millimeter Beretta.

Tsk... it's my gun.

Improved By: Fidel33 Sub Upload Date: December 3, 2015

Super Max taste test.

Glass A, bubblegum with,

ooh, hint of mint.

And glass B,

yellow.

Yellow isn't a flavor.

And you're not listening to me.

Uh, yes, I am.

Our zombie hunter is sleeping with your zombie roommate.

Looks like you'll be spending little more time at your pied-à-terre.

Come on, sample. Sample.

I value your key demo input.

Ugh. Mystery solved.

Yellow represents its urine flavor.

Can you register some concern with my news?

You had me move in with her,

so you wouldn't get blind-sided by this sort of thing.

Stay on task, sweetie.

Go with the urine-flavor.

So the thought of a zombie who works for the police and hates you,

finding out we're killing zombies really isn't worth worrying about?

Okay, so you really think she's going to go to all her cop buddies, and say,

"Hey, everyone! Zombies exist!"

"Let's go arrest all those guys who rid the city of zombies."

- Please. - Maybe.

Or maybe she just gets hungry one night and decides to eat you.

Oh, as I know you've already redecorated my office in your mind,

you can only hope.

I'll be going with a mid-century vibe.

Desk facing north. Warhol originals.

Your elon musk bobble-head in the trash.

Hmm.

(ON P.A) Vaughn. They're ready for you in the lab.

I got the brains.

We both got the looks. Let's make lots of money.

Look. Major has killed, by my count, eight zombies.

His last three, quote-unquote innocent zombies.

You think that's something you tell the zombie you love?

Besides, I think I know the guy better than you.

You do, huh?

Sure, he's training me four days a week.

He was a bit of a Debbie Downer at first, but he's coming around.

We have some legit man-to-mans on back-and-bi's day.

- Oh. - Anyway, I'm an irresistible force.

I think you'll be pleased.

The blood sample Rita provided us was the key.

What? Who is this? Where's Dr. Erving?

Oh, lab accident.

Dr. Lockett's getting his big break.

They're like drummers for spinal tap.

- (BEEPS) We're ready for the Super Max.

Dr. Lockett: As you can see,

the test subject is struggling to keep up at three miles per hour.

But once the Super Max enters the blood stream...

The results are immediate.

We can crank the treadmill up as high as nine miles per hour.

Endurance and strength also sky rocket.

- (SNARLING) Woah.

I'm impressed.

Considering how little cash your typical member of the undead carries,

when will we be seeing these results with a human?

Well, I'm still looking for a volunteer on my team.

Seeing as how we're still not sure.

If we've eliminated the violent side effects.

No need.

I think I've got somebody in mind.

Please don't be a 9 millimeter.

Please don't be a 9 millimeter. (SIGHS)

9 millimeter.

Not a good day for Team Babineaux.

It gets worse.

Detective Cavanaugh is on the case.

Detective Cavanaugh?

That weasel-faced kiss-ass?

He'd waterboard his own mom if it meant making lieutenant.

- To make lieutenant? - (RAVI GROANS)

C'mon. I'm not a monster.

Now, for captain's bars?

- I'd go full Gitmo on the old biddy. - (TONGUE CLICKING)

Give me all the gory details.

The victim suffered blows to the face.

It was the gunshot wound in the back that was fatal.

The bullet matches the weapon found at the scene.

The gun registered to one Clive Babineaux?

You can't possibly think Clive did this.

Well, I'm just dispassionately looking at the facts.

Babineaux was romantically involved with the deceased.

She was killed with his gun.

He has no alibi. And here's the kicker. The vic's phone.

This stops now, Regina.

Don't call. Don't text.

Don't show up at my place.

If you continue to harass me or anyone I care about,

I promise, this won't end well for you.

Now, can anyone in the class tell me what that is?

Huh? Uh, oh. Why, it's motive, Mr. Cavanaugh!

He left the message one hour before Regina was killed.

If this case were any easier,

I'd have slept with it in college.

So what do they really have?

Nothing but a murder weapon registered to Clive.

And a recorded threat directed at the victim from Clive.

And so what if he doesn't have an alibi?

I don't have an alibi for her murder, either.

No. Wait. I do have an alibi.

Witnesses, too. Airtight, really.

So we can cross you off the list. That's good.

I'm just gonna eat this brain for fun.

Clive doesn't even need our help.

Might as well plan your wedding to Major.

While you're on this wedding planner brain. Kill two birds.

- I just had a thought. - What?

What if you have a vision of having sex with Clive? (GASPS)

You might see his o-face.

Really? That's where your mind goes?

I bet it's super angry.

So?

Who did it?

- Agent Bozzio. - Ah, first names, please.

Dale, uh...

This is my boss, Ravi Chakrabarti.

Ravi... Dale.

How's Clive doing?

I only got to talk to him for five minutes.

They've had him in interrogation most of the day.

He wanted me to show you this.

The, uh, dead girl, what's her name?

Regina Sumner.

She left that on my doorstep last night.

It's worse than we thought. Clive was married to the girl.

He does always blame the spouse.

That's a mostly photoshopped history of a mostly fictional relationship.

He only went out with her a few times.

The woman was an obsessive stalker, crazier than an outhouse rat.

Oh, no, Liv.

You okay?