Scream Queens

Previously on Scream Queens...

Looks like we're gonna need to call a Green Meanie summit.

We are here to review the past and future kills.

Chanel Oberlin fried my sister's face off.

Help me!

I'm Chanel #3, Cassidy's girlfriend.

She is going to have to die.

We can put Denise in the freezer

until they find a cure for being electrocuted.

You, Dr. Brock Holt, are a killer.

I have a disease called Kuru. It is terminal. I'll be dead in a month.

You guys are gonna kill me, aren't you?

Chanel?

Holy crap!

I'm sorry.

- Are you okay? - Yeah.

Thanks for not killing me.

I don't want this anymore.

What about your mom, though?

I'm gonna have to kill her.

Doesn't that seem a little extreme?

How about you just talk to her?

Oh, yeah.

That could work, too.

You not killing me and standing up to your mom

is totally turning me on.

How 'bout I go home and take a quick whore's bath

and you meet me in a half an hour?

Mm...

mm-Kay.

I'll see you then.

Oh, my gosh.

These Chanels are impossible to kill.

It's almost like their narcissism

and stupidity create some kind

of a force field around them.

We have to think bigger.

And we've got to make that happen, soon.

I'm out, okay?

I'm-I'm-I'm done.

This is all you, now.

Except for Chanel #3.

If you touch her,

then I'll gladly come out of retirement

to end you.

Listen up, pretty boy.

If you're not part of the solution,

then as far as I'm concerned,

you are just another problem.

Call E.C.C. Nurse Hoffel, call E.C.C.

We still on for dinner tonight?

I'm a little bit confused as to

whether we're still dating.

I mean, I did try to strangle you

and I would totally understand

if you thought that was sort of,

uh, crossing the line.

It was, don't get me wrong.

But there comes a point in every long-term relationship

where you feel like you just want to...

strangle your partner!

So, the fact that you actually did,

means we are communicating those feelings

instead of burying them.

Plus, I took the fact

that you helped me, Number Three and Number Five

cheat on the MCATs as your way of truly apologizing.

You didn't help me cheat!

Nobody helped me cheat!

I almost got a perfect score all by myself.

We all almost got perfect scores, Number Five.

But I didn't cheat!

Nobody cares!

Anyway,

we still on for dinner?

Sure.

Why can't you see the opportunity

right in front of you?

The only thing I see right in front of me

is a bedsore that's progressing quite nicely,

Mr. Locklear.

All right, I want to keep you on, uh,

silver sulfadiazine and nitrofurazone

for a few more days, before we attempt

another debridement, huh?

Dean Munsch is dying.

And soon.

And her fortune is going into a trust

that's being drafted on the premise

that she doesn't have a next of kin.

Which she doesn't,

but she will, when you convince her

- to marry you. - What?

Just... think about it.

You two get hitched,

she kicks it from the Kuru

and bam!

You're the fortune's trustee.

If I'm in charge of the trust...

We'll rob it from them blind.

We'll run away together.

Far, far away, where no one can find us.

We'll fix up a boat on the beach,

just like the last scene in Shawshank.

No, I don't really like boats.

Listen, we can buy Blood Island.

We'll live there together.

Just two murderers with no one to murder

except for each other, but we never will,

because we love and trust each other.

And believe me, Brock,

no one understands you like I do.

I will always be there for you.

And I will always...

let you attack my crack.

Even when I've had a really large meal

and I'm unsure of what you might encounter up there.

Now you lost me.

We can buy

Blood Island and we can fill it

with boatloads of tourists.

Then we'll knock 'em off one by one

Most Dangerous Game style.

Extreme tourism is quite hot right now.

See?

Yeah, but this plan is too elaborate.

If you stop and think about it...

Don't think about it.

This plan

seems impossible

until it's possible.

In fact,

it's inevitable.

Okay. All right.

I'll, uh,

I'll think about it.

Moebius?

It's Daria. Daria Janssen.

Whatever. What are you doing out here?

Well,

I love fresh tomatoes.

I checked the pH of the swamp,

and concluded that the rich humus

that settles at the bottom

would make a fantastic

nitrogen-rich fertilizer. The...

tomatoes appear to be glowing slightly.

Don't light that!

This stuff is highly flammable.

One spark and

that much fertilizer would kill us both.

Duh.

Duh.

_

_

Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God.

What? Okay, get this.

Last night, I spent the night at Dr. Hot's house

and as soon as he fell asleep, I snatched his phone

and started going through it for hours and hours.

Wait. Are you supposed to do that?

Hello? He's my boyfriend.

He trusts me enough not to do that kind of thing,

which makes it really easy for me to do that kind of thing.

Your total ignorance about how relationships work

is probably the reason why

all your boyfriends get murdered.

What? That has nothing

to do with my boyfriends being murdered.

Yeah. Keep telling yourself that.

Anyway,

I went through his browser history

and he was googling...

cheap engagement rings.

"How quickly

can I get a cheap engagement ring?"

I mean, do you know what this means?

Oh, my God.

Brock is gonna propose to me!

Oh, my God!

Shut up!

Dr. Holt is asking everyone

to gather in Dean Munsch's room.

Chanel, I'm glad you're here.

I'm glad everyone's here.

I know this sounds crazy, but...

I'm just gonna do it,

'cause life is too short.

It is!

Will you marry me?

Cathy?

Oh...

- What?! - I just...

I wasn't expecting this to happen.

Nobody was expecting this to happen!

Cathy, let's enjoy the last few days of your life

the way you should.

You and I, as man and wife.

Pounding?

Yes, darling. Pounding.