01x13 - The Dilemma Danish

[bunniefuu]

[alarm beeping]

Mornin' m*rder.
Where ya hiding today?

[door squeaks open]
[bell dings]

[dramatic musical sting]

Oh, hey, Detective.

- Your usual?
- The boysenberry Danish...

the perfect blend
of cheese and berry,

butter and tart,
dream and reality.

The one treat I allow myself
in a week full of darkness,

depravity, and GI issues.

- So how're the murders today?
- Oddly, no bites, but it is early.

Yeah, we got plenty of sympathy
cakes ready for when they do.

[bell dings]

- Oh!
- [gasps]

Stupid Razzmatazz smoothie.
Oh, hey, Flute.

[woman screams]
[gasps]

Ah, the first m*rder of the day,

part of a balanced breakfa...

- Ahh. Ooh.
- k*ller picture, huh?

Just got it from the casino
going out of business.

- You interested?
- No thanks, Tim Patty.

I bring this home
without asking Harm,

and I'm going to get more
than my heart broken.

[chuckles]

You know, like the Heartbreakers.

- Don't come around here no more.
- Ha! Nice.

Oh.

[mysterious music]

[toilet flushes]

Okay, time for takeoff
to Planet Awesome Breakfast.

Mission control,
are we go for launch?

[muffled voice]
Commander Flute, you are clear

to nom-nom your yum-yum
in three, two...

[gasps]
[dramatic music]

Noooo!
[echoing]

[yelling continues]

As much as I was looking
forward to slicing you up

like a giant hard-boiled egg
that begs for mercy,

- that scream really shook me.
- Yeah, after hearing that scream,

I kind of wish you had k*lled me.

- I mean, I still cou...
- Oh, no, no.

- I'm good.
- No, you're right.

- Yeah, next time.
- Next time.

Cool slicer though.

[upbeat dramatic music]

♪

There are only two things
I look forward to in life:

a white woman posting
something progressive

on Instagram that backfires
and my Friday Danish.

So I'll ask nicely once,

after which I will
only ask non-nicely.

- What's that?
- Brain.

[slurps]

[retching]
[door opens]

Leave her alone, Flute!

Of course.
Why didn't I see it sooner?

You want to be just like me,

so you swiped
my Scandinavian sweet.

Isn't that right, fanboy?

What? Be like you?
Pssh.

[door creaks open]

I've got fingerprints to run.

But forensics is too busy
testing the office insulin levels

to find out who stole
your stupid strudel...

and who may have
early-onset diabetes.

Speaking of, Sergeant,
you're gonna want to see this.

You're gonna want to see this.

Of course, you've always
resented I'm lead detective.

Just when I thought
you couldn't

stoop any lower...
short joke...

you pull this low-down...
short joke...

below-the-belt...
short joke...

underhanded...
short joke...

has the word "under" in it.
I'll allow it.

Where was I?
Whatever, you did it.

And you're short.
And you know it.

Sorry, coming through.
Whoops, watch yourself there.

Pardon the parka.
Morning, how you doing?

[clears throat] Damn it, Flute.

- Let it go.
- Never, especially after what I found

in the break room trash...
a discarded note

with a Danish-sized oil stain
encircling a code.

And I'll figure it out on my own.

But until then,
each of you is a suspect.

And I won't stop till I find
which one of you did it.

Also, do any of you
have a good podiatrist

that takes our insurance?

[mysterious music]

- Mr. Flesh, it finally happened!
- Great, I can explain why that happens

- to men while we clean it up.
- What?

No, Tyge invited me to his house
for a sleepover this Friday!

Friday?
But that's when we wanted

to steal fetal pigs
from the school science lab

and drop them into
convertibles from the overpass.

- No, you wanted to do that.
- What?

Only because all you want
to do is boring stuff,

like get your parents back
together or meet Greta Gerwig.

And I want to be a stable boy,

which is why I can't
turn down this invite.

Fine, but this sleepover reeks
of a trap. And I know traps.

Oh, God, I forgot
about the mailman.

[door shuts]

[ominous music]

♪ ♪

[footsteps approaching]

- Chief?
- What? No.

Oh. [grunts]

What do you know
about my purloined pastry?

I think you're right.
Someone in our department stole it.

But they did it to distract you

- from an even bigger conspiracy.
- A conspiracy?

Thanks, Chief, but if I needed
fringe ideas, I'd talk to my tailor.

And I have.
He's working on a whole

"Lenny Kravitz boho summer"
thing for me.

I cracked your code.
The Is are slashes...

half "sau," half "mush."

Half sausage, half mushroom.

It's a pizza order.
Pizza parlors are headquarters

for some of the biggest
conspiracies out there.

I'm talking Pizzagate,
the Deep Dish State, Pie/11!

And those are real,
according to news networks

on very high channel numbers,
which means...

[suspenseful music]

A little close.

Thank you.

[gentle music]

[doorbell rings] Oh, yeah, a
sleepover in a fully functional

family's house is way better
than pig bombing convertibles.

Hey, uh, let's go into my room.

Hi, you must be Stan.
Can I get you anything?

A snack, some slippers,
perhaps a key to the house?

Should we let them
get settled first?

Should you stop telling
me how to parent? Hmm?

Let's remember not to use
questions as shields for our feelings.

This is Clara,
our family therapist.

We've had some issues,
so she moved in

to help us work out the...
kinks. [laughs]

And she sure did.

Now we're a happy, healthy,
fully functional throuple.

Let's leave them, and
the three of us can get back

- to our session upstairs.
- If you boys need anything, just...

- stay downstairs and get it.
- What's a throuple?

I'll draw you up a schematic later.

[ominous music]

- Just play it cool.
- Half sausage, half mushroom.

♪ ♪

[gasps] Your slice...
he served it to you backwards.

- I think that's a clue.
- Yeah, a clue I shouldn't listen

to someone who thinks
Post Malone's face tattoos

are a treasure map.

We need to follow
where it's pointing.

[suspenseful music]

♪ ♪

See? Nothing.

[thunk]

[dramatic music]

Bruises from strangulation and...

boysenberry.

♪

- Now do you believe?
- Everything you said is true.

My missing Danish is part
of a larger conspiracy.

And after I find
the sicko who did this,

we set sail for Cairo to
find the lost treasure of...

Post Malone.

[dramatic music]

I'm sorry, but Flute said if I let

anyone contaminate
the crime scene,

- he'd break both my thumb drives.
- Where's Flute?

And Kang told me
to let the missing Danish go.

Pff, I guess he forgot
I don't let things go,

which is why I can't juggle.

We found three bodies with
your Danish dripped all over them.

That means someone
in this department

is behind the killings
and your pastry theft.

So internal affairs
is coming to look

at the bodies we snuck back.
Go talk to them.

But until then, play dumb so that
we don't scare whichever

one of your co-workers
is the big bad.

Flute, none of us took your Danish.
You need to let it go.

♪

You're right.
I'll never figure it out.

It just makes me so m...
[clattering]

Makes me so m...

[grumbles]

Why are there so many...

is this... is that it?

- Or is it the one... wait, what about...
- That's it.

- Yeah, got it.
- That one.

[grunts]

Mad!
[glass shatters]

Makes me so mad.

In case you forgot
that from before.

[muffled laughter and bumping]

My family is unstable!

How do you deal
with your mess of a life?

After my parents split,
I needed a friend to talk to,

so I turned to the internet.
And that was a bad idea.

But upon being rescued,
I invented a friend.

Staniel LaRusso, no!

Remember when you told
that therapist about me?

We had to flush all those pills
she prescribed down the toilet.

That's why all the fish
in the lake have dry mouth.

His name is Mr. Flesh.
And he's my imaginary friend.

He's a really cool, skinny
skeleton who wears flashy clothes

and has crazy eyes
and doesn't care about rules.

You're making me sound
like Travis Barker.

Well, actually, that's not far off.

Ah, it worked!
[exhales] Look at him.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Wait, you both can see me?

Sweet, so what do we do now?

We could call Greta's manager
and try to set up a general.

What about something
a little more "fungerous"?

That's fun and dangerous.

I'm trying to get that
into the Urban Dictionary.

But they have surprisingly
rigorous standards.

[door opens] Boys, would you
mind shutting your eyes a sec

while Clara runs down
for some water? And rope?

[dramatic music]

And so I snuck the bodies
in here to secure the evidence.

I disguised them as 6-foot subs.
That's why there's all this

- wax paper and shredded lettuce.
- I see.

And you think someone
in the department

is trying to frame you?

I mean, it has to be.
Who else would?

- Besides my old podiatrist.
- Okay, I've heard enough, Flute.

- I promise we're going to help you.
- How is this helping?

Is it a shoulder stretch,
'cause I actually

feel it more in my traps.

We received an anonymous tip from

a co-worker that you're
having a mental episode.

What?
No, just open the drawers.

You'll see I'm not crazy.
[gasps]

No, they should be here,
unless somebody ate them?

Why did I make 'em Mike's way?
It's a sub above!

♪ ♪

Make sure you don't
steal the frozen pigs.

With the top down,
they'll bounce right off

the seat and out of the car.

And keep your eyes open
for teachers.

Should be easy for you...
no eyelids.

[laughing]

He is fun. Why was I not
imaginary friends with him before?

Well, you also enjoy posting poop
on Facebook Marketplace,

so not sure you're
the best judge of fun.

I say we call it and go home.

But we're finally
doing something cool.

Plus, I promised we'd work
on fixing his family.

What? You're going to
help him fix his family?

You haven't even come close
to fixing mine.

Well, maybe that's
because your family,

like Ezra Miller, cannot be fixed.

[tense music]

[grunts] This should be enough to start.
Uh, what's going on?

Ha, you two are perfect
for each other.

So I won't stop you
from freaking out men

in their
midlife-crisis convertibles

while the wind whips
through their thinning hair

as they drive to an
introductory boxing lesson!

- I'm going home!
- You won't stop us.

And I'm going to call
this one Greta Gerpig!

♪ ♪

Flute's been committed?

- Well, we got to do something.
- Why?

- Because he's my best friend.
- You mean your best friend

who publicly accused you
of being a thief and a suck up?

A real friend would let that
psycho get the help he needs.

- You know, she may be right.
- Seems this department

needs a new lead detective.
What do you say, Lieutenant?

- I guess the job is yours.
- Perfect, I'll clean out his desk.

♪

[possum hisses]
Aah!

Why is a possum living in his desk?

Oh, please, you got to help me.

This can't be the only
color jumpsuit you have.

All the inmates...

[hisses]

They're all here because of...

me.
I need to talk to the Chief!

Don't I get one phone call?

[laughs]
You've seen too many movies.

Hey, have you seen "Marcel
the Shell with Shoes On?"

- Ahh, it's super cute.
- Aah! [grunts]

[tense music]

Look, I know I put you all in here.

But you have to understand,
I'm terrible with names.

Uh, I want to say the Sunday Slayer...
the Sunrise Slayer.

I know it's something
with sun and then slayer,

unless it's stalker.
The Suntan Stalker?

Gah, I can't tell if your face means
I'm way off or you want to k*ll me.

Or is it because I don't have a suntan?

[chuckles]
No, you want to k*ll me.

[dramatic music]

♪

It's all over.
Time for my death speech,

the detective equivalent
of accepting an Oscar.

Do I go out cool?
"This party was lame anyway."

How about topical?

"Might as well be dead
with these gas prices."

Or do I set sail on a blaze of glory?

"Why don't I show us both out?"

Sadly, that last one requires
a grenade I've secretly

- been holding in my hand.
- Get him.

[alarm blares]
Huh?

You got lucky, Flute. We'll just
have to k*ll you after therapy.

[indistinct chatter]

- We do our therapy online?
- No, we're the therapists.

All therapy apps are staffed
by the criminally insane.

With face filters,
nobody seems to notice.

Uh, smash.

Hi, I'm Stan, and
it's been a while since

I've done one of these.

Boy-son... I mean, boy-client,
what's wrong?

I just lost a very important
person in my life.

He sounds amazing.
And ruggedly handsome.

I really thought this
year I'd get everything

back the way I wanted it.

But now it feels like maybe...
maybe I need to give that up.

As someone who just gave up,
let me tell you, it sucks.

But you're young.
You can't let go of what you want.

Just let go of how you think
you're gonna get there.

[bright musical tone]

Look, I got to go.
But if we never speak again...

there are some magazines
under your dad's mattress.

He knows it's all online these days.

But sometimes you just
need to go old school

and feel the crinkle
of those well-worn pages.

Anyway, destroy those magazines.

But do not look at them.

- Hey, what are you doing?
- I'm letting go of how I think

- I'm going to get there.
- Yeah, that means nothing to me.

But whatever works for you.

Stewart.

♪ ♪

Can you believe Stewart
was the first person

I busted when I came
back to Grimsburg,

and he's the Chief's kid?

Excuse me for trying
to catch you up.

So can you get a message
to your mom for me?

She's the only one who
can get me out of here.

Wow, I really thought you'd have

figured out my mommy by now.
But who am I to judge?

I just realized I have
mommy issues with my mommy.

Oh, do you?
Uh, wait, figured out what?

I bet if you could go
back and rewatch it all,

you'd see it so clearly.

[easy listening music playing]

♪ ♪

Pat's Pizza...
Chief Patsy Stamos!

Gravestones, crime tape,
sympathy cakes...

[gasps]

She owns them all.

Every time someone dies,
Chief makes a buck.

But I put too many K*llers away,
and that's bad for business.

So she created this
whole conspiracy

to get me out of the way.

Oh, you got to listen
to the commentary on that.

Jon Hamm basically admits
he only did it for the money.

Apparently he was in serious debt.

Mm, that explains why he was
in every commercial that year.

- You got to get me out of here.
- Don't worry.

Get to the library, find the poster,

kiss my mommy...
uh, convict my mommy.

[chuckles nervously]

Issues much?

Hey, everybody, food fight!

[tray clatters]

[sighs]

Okay, fine, regular fight?

[shouting and banging]

[mysterious music]

♪

Seriously?
No one's ever looked

behind the Shawshank poster?
I'll take it.

[melancholy music]

♪ ♪

I leave you for one day
and you start scrapbooking?

- But why did you come back?
- Because you are my guy, my guy.

Plus, I saw him
lick one of the pigs

and it kind of creeped me out,
which is saying a lot.

And I'm sorry for what
I said about your parents.

But maybe the reason
I couldn't get them

back together was
because they're not supposed to be.

But we are.

♪ ♪

Oh, I guess there are
worse things to walk in on.

Stan, we got to get moving
if we're gonna

make the casino demolition.

[school bell rings]

[ominous music]

[muffled clattering]

♪

Wow, I guess the
public school system really

is a pipeline to prison.
Pentos, it's the Chief.

- She's...
- Big m*rder?

- How did you figure it out?
- I didn't. She did.

- Found this.
- So even after everything I said,

you still tried to save me.

I guess you are
the bigger person...
affectionate short joke.

[chuckles]

We got to find the Chief.

- Any ideas on where she is?
- She's probably at the casino.

Practically the
whole town's there.

And if they were all
to blow up early

in a tragic
demolition accident,

that would make the Chief
a millionaire

from gravestone engravings alone.

But you guys are the detectives,
so you probably figured that out.

- Sure, of course.
- Yeah, sure.

- Yeah, of course.
- Totally, yeah.

♪ ♪

We have a few more hours until
the casino goes boom boom.

But before it does,
my wife Bethica would

like to think a few words.

[shouting] All yours, hunbun!

[air whooshing]

Where's the Chief?

She needed some air
and went up to the helipad.

- Why?
- Because she's planning

to blow us all up while we're inside!

[dramatic music]

♪

I assumed it
was just swag they sent

to promote their new show,
"Law and Order" reruns.

Listen up! If you don't
want your body exploding,

I recommend you leave.
[crowd screaming]

♪ ♪

A skyscraper rooftop
showdown with a helicopter?

Yeah, I could get used to this.

- Make sure you take some pics.
- I don't have a camera.

My doorbell has a cam...
oh, forget it.

[cocks g*n]

It's over.
Drop the detonator.

Bravo, Flute.

I guess you really are
Grimsburg's greatest detective.

Except you missed one thing...

I also own Grimsburg Cybernetics.

Summers, protect the boss!

♪ ♪

So I guess that's where
the camera money went.

[g*ns blasting]

Ahh!

[helicopter whirring]

♪

Summers, look, I know I
haven't been the best partner.

All you ever wanted was
to be like me.

But the truth is,
I'd be a lot better off

if I was more like you.

♪ ♪

[screams]

Oh!
But... but that's impossible.

He's programmed to obey.

Except one thing is
stronger than code.

Please say friendship.
Please say friendship.

- Please say friendship.
- Friendship.

Ha-ha, whee!

I was going to say silicon carbide.
But he needed a win.

[expl*si*n booming]

♪ ♪

You saved us all.
I guess you deserve this.

Oh, no.
I learned my lesson there.

I am staying far away from...
oh... [gulps]

Oh, look at us,
just one happy throuple.

[chuckles] Honey, I don't
think you know what that means.

There's three of us.
Three? Throuple?

- Well, whatever it is, I like this.
- Me too.

Me too.

Grimsburg, I came back here to solve

the one case I could never cr*ck...

myself.

I should probably get started on that.

Uh, there's always next year.
[owl hoots]

[music]

[cheers and applause]

Well, with Chief gone,
they need someone

to replace her, and I passed.

So next person in line is
our lead detective.

Chief Flute?
Has a nice ring to it.

Actually, we had to ask
the current lead detective.

- And she said yes.
- Flute, I got a case for ya...

a case of soap,
'cause you stink, Detective.

[bright music]

So what do we do now?

- We wait, Summers.
- For what?

A second season pickup.
You know this is a TV show, right?

Is that what those credits are for?