The Beauty

Police.

It's, uh, here.

It's incredible.

Pretty great.

Yes, I know.

I'm very good at it.

Not so bad yourself.

Thank you.

God, wouldn't it be amazing to come to Paris and be put up for once in the Ritz?

See the city twinkling to life at sunset?

I like my view just fine.

Or, I don't know, the Hotel Artemide in Rome or the Gritti Palace in Venice.

I don't mind it, actually.

I mean, it's a job, you know that.

We didn't get into this to get rich.

Besides, the make-your-own waffle bar downstairs is unparalleled.

- Waffles? - Waffles.

Give me a light.

No judgment. I'm in Paris.

I didn't say anything.

Mmm.

Did you do something different with your hair?

I don't know what you're talking about.

- Those. - Those?

- That. Yeah. - Yeah, I got new tits.

Wow.

Can I ask why?

I don't know. I was very self-conscious about them.

I got called names in school.

"Itty-bitty titty committee."

I didn't like how they looked in clothes.

Now…

Now I love myself completely.

Did it hurt?

Beauty is pain, my friend.

Let's look at the implants and see how far up you wanna go.

I need to get caught up on you.

You went on a date last week and you haven't told me a thing.

Come on, I want to know all the details.

Every last juicy, salacious, sordid one.

What do you want to know?

Everything.

Tell me it wasn't Raya.

Nah, Grindr.

Oh. Right.

She was all right. Over the second glass of wine,

I was telling her my famous shark dive in the Maldives story.

No, Coop, you didn't. Not that story.

- That's a great story. - Not if you want to get laid.

She seemed distracted and she blurted out…

Did you use tetracycline antibiotics when you were a kid?

Were you sick or something?

Uh.

Because your teeth are just the slightest bit gray.

Just a teeny bit.

You can fix that.

Um.

- She didn't. - She did.

Brutal.

Dating is so hard.

It is. It is, Jordan.

I've never noticed. Let me see.

Yeah, they're fucked up.

I think you have perfectly fine teeth.

- Really? - Yeah.

That's nice.

It's impressive.

Someone can say something like that to you,

and it doesn't affect your self-confidence,

or no need to go out, get veneers or whatever.

You're just you.

Why is that, I wonder?

How do I explain this?

Mmm. I sense a philosophical lecture coming on.

And, no, no, as usual, I…

I'm living for it.

Okay.

When I was stationed in Japan…

- Here we go. Mm-hmm. - …years ago.

- A fucking decade ago. - Yeah.

I stumbled upon this place, and there was this, uh, potter.

He was practicing his art, and his art was called kintsugi.

See, if a person breaks a glass or a bowl or something, instead of throwing it away,

they take it to this sage town potter who welds it back together.

But, see, this potter welds the cracks with gold.

- Ooh. - Ooh.

And the idea is that embracing imperfections,

can create something stronger and even more beautiful than before.

I don't get it.

I'm kidding. I get it.

You're all about the cracks.

You think what we're doing is wrong?

What? Fucking?

Because we work together? No, I don't.

I think that we're both on a career path…

- Mm-hmm. - …and we don't want anything too serious.

And fucking floods the brain with oxytocin and is tremendously helpful with jet lag.

There have been studies.

Your dick is my Provigil. Deal with it.

I'm not complaining.

Let's go.

- Where you going? - Out.

- What? - Yes.

- Yes. - No, Jordan. Uh-uh.

Don't you just wanna stay in bed and then lay here naked

and then order steak frites or snails and butter, some shit, and crash?

We gotta be on site so fucking early.

No, that sounds incredibly tedious.

Come on, we're going out.

Fuck. Ugh.

Take it, take it, take it.

Aah.

Hello.

Thank you.

Don't know. Must be the new tits.

Oh.

Why didn't I think of that?

Ow.

What have I done?

Thank you. Hey!

Cooper, Jordan, welcome to my fucking nightmare.

Deep breath, my friend. Big guns are here.

Laurent is just wrapping up his briefing with the president.

DGSI and DGSE?

Military intelligence, Interpol...

And us.

You guys haven't sounded a horn like this since 2018.

A terrible, terrible day. But this… this is far worse.

They're calling it Catwalk Carnage.

Whew.

Two days ago at about roughly 4:00 p.m.,

a supermodel at the Balenciaga show

began exhibiting erratic, violent behavior.

This was just the beginning.

- What the hell was she on? - Seriously, are bath salts still a thing?

Waiting on toxicology, but no other adverse reactions were reported.

All in, we have five dead and another seven injured.

At this point, we don't believe it's terrorism.

Have you accessed her digital life yet?

Police are searching her home as we speak.

Lone wolf. Scariest kind.

Spit it out.

London. Six months ago.

Very similar combustion-related incident occurred with a model.

Then one more in Berlin a month after that.

The details are limited. We're lacking video on that.

How the hell are you just telling us about this now?

Seriously.

This is the first time we've been able to connect any dots.

Hold it.

Go back.

What, she's stopping for a water break?

Witnesses stated she kept asking for it, was desperate to quench her thirst.

This is where she detonates.

Holy…

A little hard on the tasers, wouldn't you say?

None were deployed.

Oh. Powercock6969.

You want baby to show you her big naughty tits?

Well, if you wanna see my milkers,

then give me some tokens.

Baby needs $20.

Look, sorry, cheap-ass.

I just got offered $75 for a private.

Okay, fine.

Thank you. Do I have to say it after every meal?

'Cause if those are the rules now, I'll just get Uber Eats, Ma.

Yes. I looked for a job this week.

It's nothing I'm interested in. Everything's boring.

I don't wanna go back to school. I hated school, Ma.

I… I don't wanna talk.

I said I don't wanna talk.

Shut the fuck up!

Leave me alone!