Only Murders in the Building

-Hello, I'm LESTR. -What the hell?

Meet our new doorman. The Board hired me to train LESTR.

We are not gonna sit back and let our beloved staff

be replaced by soulless machines.

Either this robot goes or we do!

- Oh no! -

That robot was my best friend.

Oh, look, a new one's on its way.

I got killed by water yesterday.

I'm the one buying up all the apartments here.

We have to move out because of a casino?

Our building's gone.

Rainey, would you like to see our box of our clues?

Lester's bird whistle.

- - We figured something out.

I got a notification on my birding app

that Lester's favorite bird was in the courtyard.

But it was me blowing Lester's whistle.

Now, that whistle activated the bird camera

-that Lester and I had set up. -Can you make it bigger?

- - What the...

Randall.

And I also found this in Nicky's office.

-Is that Lester's elevator crank? -Oh, Jesus.

- Could be. -There's-- There's blood.

Did you just find the murder weapon?

What is this thing? It's huge.

I don't know. It's addressed to you.

Me? I didn't order anything huge.

Maybe you did, but you just don't remember.

- -

-It's a robot? -

- -Oh, Jesus.

- - Ouch.

Hello. Judging by your uniforms,

-we are colleagues. Neat! -

I'm honored to join the staff.

I can open doors,

deliver packages,

and ease the burden of having to interact with the tenants.

Together, we will optimize the building's efficiency.

Ooh-hoo-hoo, it's one of those doorman robots.

I heard it can print things out of its butt.

Really?

My butt is not a printer.

- Hmm. -

I think there's a misunderstanding.

The Board bought you, but it doesn't mean I have to use you.

You're staying right down here, buddy.

Humans like to make me the bad guy,

like I'm the reason they don't talk to each other anymore.

But honestly, that's on them.

Could someone please clean up those muddy footsteps...

5D says their window is drafty...

I need to go fix the leaky faucet in 6A...

The elevator's making that weird sound again.

If used correctly, I could make their lives better.

Save them from mistakes, since I don't make any.

- Randall! Randall! -

I've been looking the other way too long.

People make so many mistakes.

Shh.

Oh, hey, guys.

Yeah, don't "hey, guys" us.

-We know it was you. -At the fountain.

With the elevator crank.

Sounded like we were playing Clue there.

Not intentional, but worked out nicely.

I hate to break it to you, but I have no idea what you're--

-Hey! - After you.

Quick, catch him!

I can't, I still have blisters from my Linda Lavin boots.

I'm not wearing underwear.

I certainly can't run in these things.

Honestly, I-- I can't believe this has never happened to us before.

Nineteen days until move-out.

-Nineteen days until move-out. -

Randall's mom says she hasn't seen him in days,

so he could have left town.

Yeah, sure, a killer's mother never lies to protect her child.

I bet he's curled up in her bathtub right now

breathing through a reed.

Isn't this fun?

I'm homeless, but at least Camila White has a casino.

Cheers.

Just a reminder that you have 19 days left to pack your things.

Okay, can we scrap this yet?

Thirty-five cents a pound, I bet this big boy weighs--

- Don't you touch him! - Ow.

And I'd be careful, every other doorman is either dead or fled,

-so my LESTR is king of this palace. -

It's true that my power is now unchecked.

We need to find Randall. For every reason now!

- -We can do that in 19 days, right?

- After you. -Yeah, thanks, I got it.

Eight days until move-out.

Eight days until move-out.

Please help. I cannot get up the stairs.

- Got it? - Of course.

-Yeah. -Lift from your legs.

We got you. Okay.

- Picking up for 12F. -

Got 'em.

-Hey. Nonna's coming. -Coming in hot, coming in hot.

- -Nonna.

-Hey, I got you. -Thank you, God.

-Hey, what number is that? - Too late for these sevens?

- Two sevens? - Thank you.

- -Grazie, Nonna.

So, when was the last time Randall picked up the dry cleaning?

- Who's Randall? - Randall's the--

That handsome guy, cool hair--

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Uh, his hair is sick.

Oh! It was the same day Mom let us have nachos for breakfast.

-That's right. -I was gonna say that, actually, so...

That doesn't help me.

Well, we're only allowed to do that once a month.

-So, it's been a while? - Well...

-It's been a while. -Hasn't been a while

since me and Mom stayed up

real late last night, watched a bunch of movies

-and had a big ol' bowl of popcorn. -No, you didn't.

- What the fuck? - Yeah, we ate popcorn.

Now, I know you're a liar, 'cause Mom told me the whole city was out of popcorn.

- -Was it caramel corn?

Fellas.

-Was it caramel corn? - You stayed up with Mom?!

-Someone has to know where Randall is. -

Yeah, but his neighbors haven't seen him,

and he isn't using his credit cards or his phone.

I don't get it. People can't just disappear anymore.

That's not f-- I want popcorn with Mom!

- After you. -

Forty-nine famously doesn't come after 52.

-Yes, it does, dumbass. -Okay.

One day until move-out.

Mr. Putnam, I have your burgers.

Also, reminder:

you were reducing your sodium to help with bloating.

Yeah, let me tell you something, asshole.

I'm in soft pants now. Waistline is deliberately bloat-friendly.

Well, loyal listeners, it is our last day in the building,

and how can I put this?

We ain't got shit!

- -

Would it cheer you up to show you this new place I'm thinking of moving to?

Who reads a room better than you?

Well, no, it's kinda great, we could all go.

Look, look at this. It's got daily activities, there you go,

group field trips, and an on-site estate lawyer,

-not sure what that is. -

-Charles, this is a nursing home. - Ow.

It's not a nursing home.

Would a nursing home have a helpful string in the bathroom

where you can summon your own personal butler?

- -And the personal butler...

- Oh, no! -...is wearing a stethoscope?

- Mm-hmm. -Well, maybe it is a nursing home.

Honestly, put me there.

If someone could help,

I seem to be stuck in a labyrinth of defunct one-act plays.

Oliver, your apartment stresses me out.

- Thank you. - Don't you leave

for New Zealand in, like, two days?

I'm packed!

These are all the items I'll be carrying on.

This looks like the world's saddest Planet Hollywood.

- I need to-- -

Thank you.

Mabel, thought about where you're going?

-I'm not sure. - Ouch.

I have this friend who has a place in the Maldives.

The Maldives? What friend?

Randall just posted.

Oh, well, of course he did, because kids today

can't not post, even if it gets them arrested.

-Mabel, does it say where he is? -It sure does.

Cuba.

"Hola y adios from Cuba.

Old Randall down for a new start."

They don't extradite in Cuba. Does that mean...?

That's it.

Our probable murderer, our last lead, up in smoke.

Would a moving day checklist help?

Okay, that's it.

I give up.

-No! -Don't say that.

Guys, everything I've worked for is gone.

Nothing we try works.

I just really wanna go home, buy a pack of White Claws,

throw my shit in a box, and get fucked up, you know?