Only Murders in the Building

Is that me?

Did I stab someone?

The person on the train, was it Glitter Guy?

He took my bag. Is this his?

I need to get to Coney Island now.

We got back the DNA tests we took for Henry's school project.

Am I nervous that my son isn't my son? Not at all.

You know, I really came here because I'm worried about you.

- You don't have to worry about me. - I do.

There is some real shit going on in this building, Charles.

I need information on who that guy is.

Something to jog my memory.

When I found that Glitter Guy,

he had this on him.

Hey. Where are you?

Lucy! Where are you?

- I'm at your place. - Listen, you need--

I came to see you.

- Lucy! - Oh, I know this.

We've got a blackout, people.

New York does crime fast and furious.

Every day brings a new sensational headline.

"Heiress Found Murdered in Own Doll Collection."

"Man Mauled by Ex-wife's Pet Leopard in Bronx Apartment."

After a while, they can all start to blend together.

But sometimes,

a killer stands out,

makes his mark in history.

Five entire episodes of vamping.

At this rate, the cops are gonna solve it before they do.

I wish you people would take my Sixth Avenue Slasher theory seriously.

Marv, we gave you an entire episode of the fancast

to make your serial killer-kills-Bunny case.

It didn't take. No one buys it. Move on.

He's real.

- And he's out there. - Look,

I don't know if I'm totally ready

to just cut and run from Only Murders , but I have been playing the field.

Have you heard episode one of that political embezzlement podcast?

Take the Money and Run. I didn't hate it.

It has potential, if it can get a body count going.

Embezzlement?

How can you talk about switching allegiance

when our guys are still in the middle of season two?

Face it, Marv. They're overboard and treading water.

If we cling to them too hard,

they might just drag us down with them.

Hey! Hi!

Look at them. Huh?

You guys might be fair-weather fans,

but I am OMITB... for life.

What's gotten into him lately?

When he looked at that fork, I was scared for my life.

The Sixth Avenue Slasher earned a place

in the headlines of the early aughts.

He killed for years, always picking victims

who lived on Sixth Avenue.

Or near Sixth Avenue.

And a few times Seventh or Eighth.

Or Broadway or Amsterdam.

Honestly, the whole Big Apple was his hunting ground.

No one on any street was safe.

Except people on Third. They seemed to be fine.

And he was never caught.

- Lucy! Where are you? - For all we know,

he's back at it again.

We have a blackout, people.

We need to get to Lucy. She's at my place all alone.

- If the killer is after her... - Wait.

Lucy?

Your semi-stepdaughter?

Not now, Marv. We're in crisis mode.

Is the whole city blacked out?

The eastern grid probably went down.

Maybe they just blew a fuse in the kitchen.

I had a complicated order.

Message from ConEd.

Whole tristate area is out!

See? I do know what I'm talking about sometimes.

I don't have service. Does anyone have service?

I have service. I just got an email.

Oh my god. It's my DNA results.

Click here to get the answer you've been waiting for all your life.

I'm clicking. I'm clicking. It won't load. Fucking hell!

Cell towers will be jammed.

Everyone trying to connect with everyone else all at once.

I hate blackouts.

There's a thin line between civilization and chaos,

and that line is electricity.

We have to get to the Arconia to find Lucy

- before anyone else does. - Can I...

walk you guys through my Sixth Avenue Slasher theory?

- I know you're stuck right now and-- - No time, Marv.

Yeah, and we're not stuck, okay?

- As you can see, we're on fire. - Mr. Putnam, wait!

The fridge is out. These dips, they're just going to go bad.

No charge, please. You'd be doing us a favor.

Oliver, let's go.

Can I have a doggy bag?

Perhaps a Hefty bag?

Ripped and corrected by - YoungJedi -

The Sixth Avenue Slasher's MO was simple.

Choose older women.

But younger women could be targets, too.

Also, men of all ages.

It really depended on the day.

He scared the city senseless,

and he was never caught.

The only silver lining to having a serial killer on the loose

is the way it can unite a divided city.

Everyone huddling in their apartments at the same time,

terrorized by the same psychopath.

There's nothing like a crisis to bring New Yorkers together.

Front door. We're aware of the blackout. How can I help you?

The elevator's out?

Exactly how am I supposed to get these groceries up to my apartment?

Stairs are that way, Frank.

I live on eight.

When I lived in the Braxton, they had a generator.

Hey, hey, hey! Everyone, shut it!

You know how this works.

It'll be over in five minutes. Or five days.

So, settle down

and start sipping.

It's medicinal, nutritional...

and lightly alcoholic.

First one's free. After that,

cash only.

Front door.

We're aware of the blackout. How can I help you?

Lester, it's Nina. Did a package come for me?

Yes, Ms. Lin. I-I'm looking at it right now.

Can you bring it up to me, please?

Oh, but the elevator's out.

And?

And you're on 14.

You know, they're asking me to cut back on building expenses.

The old guy who holds a door open

that opens automatically would seem like a good place to start.

A drone could get me that package in five minutes without complaining.

Be right up in a...

few more than five minutes.

See? Mob rule already.

We're about 15 minutes away from heads on spikes and cannibalism.

I'll protect you.

Where are you going? The elevators are this way.

No electricity, no elevators, baby.

- Oh, no. Absolutely not! - Hey!

Let's get climbing.

There he is. There he is. Don't look, don't look, don't look.

He's the one with the Barney Greengrass tote.

Oh, yeah. Yeah, I've seen him around. Handsome.

Oh, isn't he something?

The power may be out, but there are sparks flying

- off of that one. - So ask him out.

What are you talking about?

He's subletting on your floor.

Go knock on his door, stand tall,

feet shoulder-width apart

to communicate confidence, and ask him out.

You are familiar with the concept of a league, right?

And being out of one?

Go ask him to borrow some batteries, so he can light your lantern.

Okay, vulgar.

What's the worst that can happen?

I could weep. I could vomit. I could burst into flames.

You could also die tomorrow, having never gone on a date.

If you never take a risk, Howard, your life...

will stay exactly as it is forever.

I don't mind my life.

I have my apartment. I have Yodelshop.

I am the Assistant Director of Collection Development

at the Central Manhattan Public Library.

And I have Sevelyn.

There may be more to life than cats.

I won't tell her you said that.

Thank you, Doctor.

- Okay, I can't go on. - We're only on four.

What am I climbing towards anyway?

As soon as the lights come on, my test results come in,

and my identity implodes.

No longer am I "Will's Loving Dad." I'm...

"Dip Lover Cuckolded by King of Dips."

We're not climbing toward your identity crisis.

We're climbing towards Lucy. She needs us.

- All of us. - Also, it's my knees.

I-I just had them done.

These are delicate models.

They're Alfa Romeos, not ATVs.

I-I can't handle this kind of off-roading.

I got these babies in '06, and look. They're still kickin'.

Oh really? Who did yours?

Dr. Arslanian, 85th and Lex.

Get outta here! Arslanian did mine!

Best knee guy in Manhattan, right?

Oh, hands down!

His receptionist, on the other hand, I did not care for.

Don't get me started on Cheryl.

Hello? Killer at large?

- Child in peril? - Sorry, you're right.