iZombie

Previously on iZombie...

The State Pen has agreed to take

20 of Seattle's worst criminals down to Walla Walla.

Oh! That one with the shotgun is getting away.

You have the zombie gear. Hell yes!

Who's that?

A new uni. Michelle, I think. Why?

Can't believe you guys talked me into bringing you here.

Renegade's operation turns more humans into zombies

than all other county ouftits combined.

I can take Mama's place. I am willing to do the scratching.

Nice work, Renegade.

I understand why you're doing what you're doing.

Which is why I want to be a part of it.

Let's do this. I'm tired of being sick.

How long does it take to kick in?

I'm gonna die, aren't I?

- Hey, Mom. - Hey.

Wanna hear some jokes about Freylich Syndrome kids?

Okay.

They never get old.

It's not funny, Isobel.

No, it is. It's hilarious.

- No, it's not. -

You just have to take a step back.

Have you had any nose bleeds, honey?

Nope. No nose bleeds. All good.

Okay, I'm so glad to hear that.

I've been so worried about you.

Mom. Gotta call you back.

The Spanish Inquisition just walked in.

- Okay, I love you. Bye. - Love you, too. Bye.

Yes?

We've made arrangements to get you back to Boise.

No. Uh-uh.

Why risk one of your coyote's lives just so I can die in my own bed?

Why don't you let us bring your mom here?

It's the same problem, though, isn't it?

Why bring my mom here just so she can watch me die?

- You are a stubborn one. - So they tell me.

- Any nose... - No. No nosebleeds.

- Any murders? - Only, like, 20.

Oh, uh, we should've warned you.

This is our drawer of heads.

We're calling the prison bus murders "Satan's Jigsaw Puzzle."

We started with the face pieces and are working our way out.

Don't you zombies just like the brains?

How do you account for the dismemberment?

We figure the mob was starving, and everyone wanted a piece.

What a way to go.

Don't waste your sympathy on these guys.

They're the worst of the worst.

Who's that guy who put his victims' organs in jars?

Perry the Pickier.

There's Ice Pick Rick, Zombie Killer Cain...

The nastiest killers this city has had to offer.

- You think? - I think Seattle's seen worse.

You don't want to know what I had to do to get this brain.

You want me to blue brain it? Or...

- It's my $100,000 gift to you. - What?

- Did you get me Kid Rock? - No.

If you bought a brain for 100 grand

and I'm the one eating it, there's no way it's gonna be anything good.

You're gonna love it.

But, first, let me show you something.

You remember when I was on that real-estate agent brain a couple weeks ago?

Yeah. You were asking me all those non-sequitur questions

aimed at determining my annual income?

That's when this plan came to me.

This place on Kittitas sold for 22.6 mil.

- It's on the market now for two. - No surprise there.

The prices took a dive after Seattle became the Lost City of Z.

Figure 20% down, you're looking at an outlay of 400,000

on a house worth more than 20 mil.

There's 100 properties like this inside the wall.

And when things return to normal,

property values are gonna skyrocket.

And whoever owns 'em cheap will be filthy rich.

You think things are returning to normal?

Just eat that brain and trust that I have a plan.

Maybe you should lean back in your chair

and do the Mr. Burns thing with your hands.

- Like this? - Oh, yeah.

- And maybe cackle. -

Uh, do you have the top half of a hairy arm,

with a tattoo of a skull with a serpent crawling out of its eye socket?

Go fish.

Ah!

Uh, no more victims. We're full.

- What can you tell us about our human victim? -Hmm.

Go watch some Jerry Lewis movies, you frog bastard.

I'm sorry, Mr. Schwartzman, my partner should be along soon.

Ain't no thing.

Hey, them vending machines you got upstairs

is off the chain, though.

Baked from scratch.

Where'd you get this?

Treasures abound in the lost and found, dun. You like?

Mr. Schwartzman, this is Liv Moore, our medical examiner.

'Sup, shawty? What is good?

On my grind, you know. Gettin' that schmoney.

So, Weston, you and your brother Walden

were originally a rap duo, is that correct?

Uh-huh. Lil' Driz and Dirty Reign.

The Precipitation Collaboration.

Tight.

And when a manager signed your brother and not you, your brother went solo. True?

Oh, I see how you playin' it now. No comment.

I pulled up these lyrics

for a diss track you wrote about your brother.

"You a bad seed, son,

rhymes corny as they come, used to be chill,

-now you got a swole head, like Icarus flyin' in the sun. -

You say you come dirty, rain,

but it's all just doom and gloom.

You whack, you stale,

I shoulda ate you in the womb.

- Damn, that's cold. - Care to comment?

I'm just gonna say it. I love dead people.

You're a necrophiliac, dude, and this is how it ends.

Bang.

Good stuff?

I saw Rain and his lady at The Scratching Post.

Some hater was throwin' mad shade.

- You saw him? - Yeah, somewhere. He was...

He's right behind you. That's our killer!

Aren't his pieces currently strewn about the morgue?

The Scratching Post has only been letting humans in for a few weeks.

My vision has to be recent,

and that guy was in prison before The Scratching Post even opened.

Then he must have escaped from the bus massacre.

Who is this guy?

"Ronnie 'Sugar' Cain."

"AKA Zombie Killer Cain. Convicted murderer of nine."

Better make that 11.

So what's a zombie hater doing hanging out at The Scratching Post?

You're hunting zombies, you go to their watering hole.

Maybe we go over there, see if anyone remembers the guy?

Sure. Let's do it.

You know who the first two zombies Cain killed were?

His wife and daughter.

At his trial he said he considered them already dead.

I'm-a text my posse.

We was hittin' a movie, and this Cain fool was making me miss it.

I was about to go ham on a large tub with extra butter.

- - Whoa!

"A citywide lockdown is immediately in effect

as Fillmore-Graves conducts a manhunt for serial killer Ronnie 'Sugar' Cain."

Fillmore-Graves can declare martial law now?

I was gonna get me some of those Scratching Post jalapeño brain poppers.

My snack game is officially DOA.

There are some new vending machines on the fifth floor.

People are making a big deal about them.

- For reals? - One of the machines is zombie-friendly.

Liv out.

Let's do it.

- Here? - We're stuck here. Why not?

We should let Mosco know.

- Texting him now. - Ten minutes?

I got a bone to pick with Blaine.

Oh, hello, Candy. Don't you look...

- Don't I look what? - Huh?

You said "Hello, Candy. Don't you look..."

And then you did that. Focus, Sinead.

I think I'm on virgin brain.

Did Blaine really tell the mayor

he could have me on the house, and we'd go all night?

Yes. In fairness, the whole city is on lockdown.

So, it's not as if you could leave anyway.

So I may as well just stay here

and spank Mayor Freakfest for eight hours? Hi...

Is that what's happening?

Blaine always has a good reason for doing what he does.

I usually just motorboat with it.

I hate New Seattle.

I wish the whole country would just go zombie already.

I was almost through with flight attendant training. And now this!

Hi. Didi you miss me?

Blaine DeBeers, you are

as cunning as you are handsome.

You've figured out a way to turn the whole country zombie.

Once that happens,

all the properties we're going to buy dirt cheap skyrocket in value.

Have a seat, pal,

because the fun doesn't stop there.

I have another gift for you.

Holy motherboard.

It's a Boldbook.

A 4K touch-screen precision display,

gunmetal chassis and a hyper-charged SSD

that makes its Y-Series brethren look like a little...

B-word.

Wait a minute... You sprang for the optional Core i7 CPU?

Mmm-hmm.

Will you judge me if I happy cry?

- Yes. - Then I won't.