02x09 - Cape Town

Liv: Previously on iZombie...

Peyton: I need everything you can tell me about Mr. Boss' crime organization.

We need to make zombie rats to test whether or not this Utopium can truly lead to a zombie cure.

I could be with Major.

That was the tainted Utopium Max Rager combination I was going to use to make the cure.

We are back to square one.

Liv: Someone is going around the city taking out zombies.

Major: You and I are going to be fine.

Being with zombie me is different than being with old me.

What about Liv?

How extreme do her personality swings get?

Ravi: She can be a bit mercurial.

This brain I'm on, apparently the woman was an unhinged stalker.

We have to be totally honest with each other this time around.



Get up, bitch.

Prey on the weak. Feast on my fury.





I'm The Fog.

And tonight...

I'm thick with justice.





How can you not see that you're the one who is in the wrong here?

While I was sleeping, you used my finger to unlock my phone.

You snooped through my texts. You sent a text to a girl I used to date, a girl I told you I ended things with.

If it's so over, why is she texting you half-naked photos of herself?

Oh, my God. This fight is freakin' Groundhog Day.

I can't keep saying the same thing over and over again.

Then how about you just try telling me the truth?

Okay, so keep doing the thing I've been doing for the past five hours.


No "pfft!" There's no "pfft!"

All right, you should've been able to see from your snooping that I haven't texted her since we got back together.

How do I know that you didn't call her from a landline?

Because it's not 1987.

I can't help this, Major.

One minute, you're defending your actions, and the next, you're blaming the brain.

Which is it?

It's both!

From one minute to the next! It's both!

You think it's dizzying to witness, imagine what it's like having that go on inside your head.


Sorry for interrupting round 3,008, but we have a body, Liv.


I was afraid this would happen.

You were afraid someone would find a grown-ass man wearing a cape in the back of a garbage truck?

Pretty specific fear.

Everyone on the force knew this guy.

His name is Chris Allred, AKA The Fog.

He was a high school shop teacher by day, but at night, he put on a costume and patrol the streets.

He considered himself a real-life superhero.

So he was crazy?

I'm sorry, Seattle has a vigilante crime fighter called The Fog?

How did I not know about this?

Oh, we've got a few superhero wannabes here.


I've gotta take this.


Sorry if we kept you up last night.

I'm just glad the body we're working on is not Major's.

I spent the night worried you were going to rage out.

"Hell hath no fury like a zombie on stalker brain thinking she's been scorned."

It wasn't just thinking.

He got a text from...

Oh, my God.

Don't. Please, stop. No.

Apparently, The Fog foiled a mugging last night.

The victim is still at the station looking over mug shots.

I'm going to head over to talk to her.

Got a good chance one of the muggers is our killer.

We, climb on in, start scooching him forward.

Are you serious?

Were you thinking I'd lay out the body bag out and wait for The Fog to roll in?


Ravi: Cause of death is blunt force trauma to the head.

But the guy was a mess.

Contusions at various stages of healing, ribs that look like he broke a different one every week.

The Fog certainly took some licks for the greater good.

Ravi, the most this guy ever did was momentarily distract criminals, who were shocked to see a grown man in tights.

I disagree.

I think it's noble to go out and pursue danger to protect the innocent, to be an active symbol of hope.

To show the world that one person can make a difference.

I just think it's kind of ridiculous.

Would you say that to Batman?

If he were real, yes, I would.

You should be a little more open to this.

I mean, we don't know which of Chris Allred's personality traits will be more dominant.

Shop teacher or superhero wannabe.

Will you start rappelling down the sides of buildings or should I expect a personalized spice rack?

I don't think my relationship can take another minute of stalker brain, so I'll take either.

I don't know, it looks to me like you have the makings of a hero.


Excuse me?

Do you know what time it is?

It's time to be honest.

That is some lackluster effort, buddy. [LAUGHS]

I'm not saying you had to bring your A-game, but, yeesh!


For future referener, I think you're a guy who can probably just get away with saying "Hi" and introducing yourself.

As a man who's mentally assembled his own utility belt, I find The Fog's impressive.

Carabiner hooks.


Giant marble.

Liv: Marble?

Always handy.


No. No, wait.

It's chloroform.

And the handiest of crime-fighting tools, duct tape.

Our mugging victim ID'd her assailants.

They were both in the system.

Liv: They're not in the system.

They are the system.

Yeah, not really following.

There are bad people in this world.

We put them in cages, expect them to change, they never do.

So no spice rack, then.

Great. So I spoke to each mugger's P.O. and got a last place of employment.

Turns out, they work together. Wanna go check them out?

I make time for justice.


There is something not right about this place, I can feel it in the air.

Coming through.

Look at that. Now, that's a tree.

Worker: Twenty feet of noble fir.

Liv: That Santa, I've seen him before.

That's Mr. Boss.

He's head of the biggest crime syndicate in Seattle.

So all this Santa delivers to our city is crime.

Can I help you, Detective?

Do you know these two men?

Carlos Rena and Jerry Byrd.

No. I can't say that I do.

Do you know anything about a vigilante crime fighter who called himself "The Fog"?

The Frog?

The Fog.

No, I don't. What exactly is a "vigilante crime fighter?"

You know what he is, a superhero.

A selfless defender of those who can't defend themselves.

I see.

I don't want to pretend I know how to do your job, but it just seems to me, your best bet would be to aim a floodlight into the night sky with his logo burned into it.

I'm sure he'd find you.

He was murdered last night.

His body was discovered not too far from here.

[SIGHS] This city.

Well, I should get back to the kids.

We don't want them to find out the truth about me, now, do we?

You know, that I'm not really Santa.

He was toying with us.

Yeah, I got that.

I already have a couple of unis checking the muggers' last known residence.

Maybe we'll get something there.

I am going to end you!

Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait. [GROANING]


Do you always find tic-tac-toe so riveting?

The Fog, he was attacked by another guy in a costume.

Tic-Tac-Toe Man, or something.

That's Hashtag. I'll bring him in.

He's another joker in a mask.

You know where to find him?

All you have to do to summon Hashtag is to hashtag Hashtag.

Don E.: He's dying. You gotta help me.

We usually wait till they're all the way dead before bringing them down here.

Who shot him?

This is so bad.

This is so bad, you got to do something.

Damn it, Don E.

I'm a brain dealer, not a doctor.


Who is this poor sap?


Do you know who this is?


And what the hell were you thinking, bringing him here?

"Super Dead," that's just too awkward to say.

"Help me, Super Dead."

Ooh! "Mighty Whitey!" What do you think?

I think I would be the Ku Klux Klan's favorite superhero.

Fair enough.

What do you think about calling yourself.

"Doctor Power"?

"Dead Power"? "Doctor Dead"?


How about "Snow Woman"?

Because you're ice-cold, right?

Potentially deadly and...

A woman. Clever.

Ideally, the name should be symbolic and correspond with your aesthetic and or powers.


Give this one a moment. Don't say no right away.

"Ol' Scratchy"!

This city needs more than a symbol.

Yeah, just keep saying stuff like that.

I'll follow behind you, jotting notes for the graphic novel.


Twins. I'm Scott E's brother.

Ravi: You've got the system a bit backwards.

Your job is to take the bodies away.

Well, lucky for all of us, this body ain't dead yet.

Oh, my God.

I think we're already too late.

No. There's a heartbeat.


Ravi: We are not an emergency room.

We're not equipped for this.

This man is dying, and your first thought is to bring him here?

Actually, my first thought was to call you and have you come to my place, but I had some concern you wouldn't show, so...

He's deteriorating to bradycardia.

There's no way he'll make it.

[INHALING DEEPLY] Well, there's one way.


Now, before you get all self-righteous, know that this dying man, he's the only person who knows where to find tainted Utopium.

The real stuff, the stuff left over from the boat party.

So if he croaks, so does our hope for a cure.

Why should we believe you?

What can I say? It's gonna be a gamble on your part.

Liv, I can't move forward without more tainted Utopium.

I simply can't.

Scratch him, and by this afternoon, you will have all the tainted Utopium the good doctor needs.

Not to mention, that this cat'll still be amongst the living.

He may rather be dead.

Tick-tock, Doc.

Hey, let's get some mojitos. You know, celebrate.

The next shift is showing up here in 10 minutes.

This would be rather hard to explain.

Gotta zip you back up, friend.

Down you go.

We'll stop by your place later to check on him and to pick up the tainted Utopium.

Blaine: Look forward to it.

Clive: Thanks for coming in, Hashtag.

We know you had a fight with The Fog.

We know you threatened to end him.

Oh, that... That was nothing.

You sucker punched him.

He had it coming.

Why's that?

The Fog thought he was the king of the superheroes.

Always bad-mouthing me to the others.

Then I find out he's got a super-team and doesn't ask me.

Do you know how many marketing opportunities I was going to lose out on if I wasn't included?

You ever hear of Snake Bite?


But I bet you can name everyone in the Justice League, can't you?


Hashtag: I rest my case.

Why was he assembling a team?

I only heard that The Fog thought something big was going down but couldn't handle it alone.

I didn't get any details.

Do you know who else was going to be a part of this, uh, team?


I did get shot, right?

Gut shot. Yeah.

It was gnarly.


At least I know I'm not crazy.

How are you feeling?


Really friggin' hungry.

Yeah, about that. Why don't you have a seat?

How familiar are you with the movie...

- Dawn of the Dead?

I've seen it.

Remember how that group of survivors barricaded themselves inside of a mall?


You're what's outside of the mall.

You're a zombie.

You were dying, and in an effort to save you...

Well, we had a zombie scratch you.

I may have buried the lead here. Zombies are a real thing.

So the fact that I crave...

Brains? Yeah, that's a zombie thing.

But fear not, everything's gonna be just fine.

If you follow my instructions, you'll have all the brains you need.

I need brains.

Sorry, wow. [CHUCKLES]

I am really rusty at the "Welcome to Team Z" speech.

I should've made pamphlets.


You need to eat brains in order to stay functioning.

If you don't, your mind goes... [SPLUTTERS]

Your flesh decays... All the... All the tropes.

But you don't need to worry about that.

I give you brains.

You get a spray-tan, a box of hair-dye and you just keep on keeping on.


Tell me what I need to do to get these brains.

I love that can-do spirit.




Ghost Cobra. Gray Area.

Superfly. Mega Fist.

Blue Swallow.

Detective Babineaux needs your help.

And someday, you may need his.

Think of him as your Jim Gordon.

I'm not your Jim Gordon.

That's right. He's his own man.

Detective Clive Babineaux.

Remember that name.

Your friend in the Seattle PD.

Now what was it that made The Fog want to form a super-team?

The Fog heard Mr. Boss was bringing in a shipment of guns.

Mr. Boss, huh?

Yeah. He said they were big-ass guns.

So, what was the plan?

We really didn't get to the "hearing the plan" part.

Mr. Boss? Guns?

That's some super-dangerous stuff.

You disappoint me.

Yeah, that's what The Fog said.

[SIGHS] I'm sorry, I work at a cold-pressed juicery during the day.

I'm not taking on a crime lord.


Okay... I'm sorry to interrupt.

Um... The body of one of your muggers was just discovered.



Where's the body?

I have no idea how they got him up there without anyone noticing.

How tall do you think that tree is, anyway?

20 feet of noble fir.

His throat was slashed.

Mr. Boss's calling card.

All right, he was hung on the Christmas tree post-mortem.

I've got something.

"447, North Palmetto Street."

447, North Palmetto...

That's the address for Mary, our mugging victim.

Why would the guy who tried to mug her have her address?

My guess is he was afraid Mary saw him and his buddy kill The Fog.

He was hoping to get rid of any evidence against him before Mr. Boss got wind of it.

There's a reason Mr. Boss's men never get brought in on murder charges.

He kills them first.

Doesn't like them to have the opportunity to talk.

I better send a unit to Mary's house.

No disrespect to the deceased, but I vote for making this snappy.

Blaine should have our tainted Utopium by now.

You're here just in time for Drake's first feeding.

[CHUCKLING] It's intense, man!

To eat brains or not to eat brains?

That is the question.

It's a bit of an acquired taste.

You couldn't flavored it up a bit for him?

Sorry. The quality of all the meals has really gone downhill here since someone's boyfriend offed my chef.

Poor Don E. Has been reduced to eating pepperoni pockets.

That's much better. Thank you.

And I guess I should thank you for saving my life too, huh?

You may want to wait a couple weeks.

See if you still feel grateful.

So, we'll be taking that tainted Utopium now.

Yeah, some bad news on that front.

You said he knew where to find it.

No, he... He does...

It's just more in a general sort of way.

Drake, why don't you share your story with our friends here?

Yeah, uh, old high school buddy of mine, Vic, he was a drug dealer.

He's an associate of mine.

And mine.

He got his leg blown off in Afghanistan.

So when he got home, he couldn't find a job, started dealing.

Street name, Pogo. 'Cause he had one of those springy fake legs.

One night he calls me from the trunk of a car.

Basically, him and this other dealer, Larry, they swallowed a bunch of condoms full of Utopium in its powder form.

They were trying to smuggle it into Ibiza, sell some, party with the rest.

Except someone must've found out, because when he called me, he was 100% sure he was gonna die.

Steal from Mr. Boss, you're taking your life in your hands.

He was able to kick the taillight out.

Last thing that he saw was the Jensen Water Tower.

Then I heard the gunshot.

So we have two bodies packed full of tainted Utopium buried in a shallow grave somewhere within sight of that water tower.

So we start digging.

It's a needle in a haystack, man.

How do you know whoever buried him didn't... extract the Utopium themselves?

Because Mr. Boss was still looking for it.

How did you end up shot?

My associate Don E. Has been trying to locate this lost batch.

He learned Drake might know something and let that information get into the wrong hands.


Something's burning.





Someone went on a little trip.

We need to leave.


There you are.

I got a lead on our second mugger.

Carlos Rena is a diabetic.

If he's hiding from Mr. Boss, he can't go home to retrieve his medication.

I found a cousin who's a registered nurse.

I sent a car to his house in case Carlos tries to get his insulin there.

I'm afraid we have more dangerous fish to fry.

We do?

The Fog was right about Mr. Boss's gun shipment.

I saw one of his elves blasting away.

We need to get down there, and bust him before the guns make it onto the streets.

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa.

Calm down a second, okay?

We can't just raid a place. There's a protocol.

First comes probable cause. Then comes the warrant.

I'm the probable cause.

Liv, you know how this works.

Judges don't issue warrants based on psychic visions.

We can't...

S. Cavanaugh: Babineaux.

The uni you sent to check on your mugging vic?

He's saying the door was wide open when he got there.

The place was ransacked. No sign of her.

[SIGHING] This is what I'm...



Oh, no, no!



Hey, there. It's okay.

It's going to be okay.


[STRAINING] Stop, please.

There are these people, they're forcing me to hunt zombies or they'll kill my girlfriend.

She's a zombie, too.



So, you're the bogeyman?

The bogeyman?

The person taking out zombies.

My pimp told me there's a bogeyman out there thinning the zombie herd.

Your... Pimp?

I was a call girl.

The normal, human kind...

Upscale clientele.

Then this mystery man contacts me.

We have our date.

And the next morning I wake up, and guess what sounds tasty to me?



Then this John drops back by, welcomes me to "Team Z."

And explains that I was a zombie now and in exchange for the brains I needed to survive, I would have to service his zombie clients.

That's horrible.

Yeah. I literally got screwed into becoming a zombie hooker.

Before that, it was all on my terms.

I screened like crazy, weeded out the skeezoids, had some generous regulars.

"Work a little, make a lot, live my life."

Pre-zombie, I went to Japan... Twice.

Cambodia, Malta...

I spent three weeks taking pictures of the Bay of Kotor in Montenegro.

So, you took all these?


Maybe my choices were different from most people's, but they were mine.

I liked my life.

And I guess you can't just get on a plane now, can you?

Even if I could, my savings are gone.

I get paid in brains.

I have s*x for food.

Try living with that for a while.

And these zombie men have me whenever they want me.


I spend the rest of my time hating myself and showering.

So, if you wouldn't mind giving me my gun back and skedaddling...

You don't really want to do that.

How badly could you want to die if you spent an hour untangling Christmas lights?

I was setting a mood.

Being a zombie hooker is horrible.

Being a zombie hooker when you've eaten the brain of a Benedictine nun?

Or a man with dementia?

That is an extra level of devastating.

[SNORTS] A few weeks ago, I shot a deer.

I started being a vegan when I was 16 and hunter-brain made me kill Bambi.


You have a zombie girlfriend...

I'm sure you've seen what these brains do to her.

It's coming into sharper focus.

I'm either being controlled by a pimp, or I'm being controlled by a brain.

I've had it.

My gun?


Do you want the honors?



Do you know how much Max Rager I used to drink?

I basically kept them in business for years.

Then you're part of the problem.


I'm making my way down this list as slowly as possible.

I mean, I'm 99% sure that when I make it to the end, they'll just kill me and my girlfriend, too.

Ah, there's gotta be something you can do.

The guy who owns the company thinks he walks on water, that he can charm anyone.


So I'm trying to figure out a way to use that.

You sound like the sort of quality boyfriend I've only heard about.

Yeah, I wouldn't be too sure about that.

You're doing all of this to keep your girlfriend safe.

She's got to appreciate that.

Ah, she doesn't know.

I can't tell her.

Liv would try to stop Vaughn.

I'd end up getting her killed, and I can't risk that.

I won't risk that.

You know, it's like a cult over there, and he is their messiah offering up immortality in a can.

I'm working on a plan, but in the meantime, I have to keep abducting zombies, taking them away from their families, and proving I'm a good soldier, and I'm pretty sure that Liv would find that... reprehensible.

I know I do.

You're not ripping me away from my life or loved ones.

I've have no one and I already want to die.


This should be your easiest job.

Clive: We know a lot about you, Carlos.

We knew you'd show up at your cousin's looking for an insulin fix.

We know you fought with The Fog on the night he was murdered.

The woman whose bag you tried to steal identified you from your mugshot.

She told us The Fog rescued her.

I didn't kill anyone. I didn't mug anyone neither.

Your so-called mugging victim, Mary Contreras...

Yeah, I know her name.

She wasn't some school girl strolling down the street with her big purse.

So you know, there was over 50 grand in that bag... none of it hers.


She'd just walked into a high stakes poker game at Mr. Boss's place, pulled out a Glock and robbed some of the city's most dangerous men at gunpoint.

We were chasing her down the street when we get jumped by that Fog guy.

I'm The Fog.

And tonight...

I'm thick with justice.

What the hell?


The girl is your killer.

And it's not her first, won't be her last.

So Mary killed your partner?

She's coming after you because you're witnesses?

No. That was Mr. Boss.

Me and Jerry were on security at the poker game.

We screwed up, and Mr. Boss has a low tolerance for screw-ups.

It's got a buffer recoil system.

That way, when you're shooting, you don't have to worry about jerking your neck.

It's kind of a dream.

Unless of course, you don't like long-range, accurate shooting.

Now, I showed you mine...

Who the hell are you?


Find her!

Come on.







Okay, seriously...

[SCOFFS] What are you supposed to be?

I'm the nightmare before Christmas.





What are you?

Just a girl in a mask doing her civic duty.

They were going to kill me.

Call the police. I'll tie these guys up.



Whatever you are, I don't want you coming after me.




You're welcome.


I have a favor to ask.


If this doesn't work...

If the cure doesn't happen...

It's going to.

But if it doesn't...

I don't want to come back as a zombie.

Not like this.

[CHUCKLES] And definitely not like one of those mindless, drooling monsters you see in the movies.

There's going to be a cure.

And you'll be sending me postcards from Tasmania...

But if there isn't...

You'll make sure?

Promise me.

I promise.

So, is this an "in the arm" kind of thing or?

Uh, the neck is best.

You don't have to worry.

It's not like it's going to hurt.

Ravi: Liv.

Liv. You okay?

Judging by the bump on your head, you were clocked pretty good.

Whoa. Slow down.

Did they already arrest everyone?

Arrest who?

Mr. Boss's thugs.

The guys buying the guns. Where are the guns?

Did the police take them?

I haven't heard anything about thugs or guns.

I was called because of the body.

Mary Contreras.

The mugging victim?

Clive believes she's the one who killed The Fog.

She was going to kill me, but...

Mr. Boss to the rescue.


He's also the one who phoned the police.

He's at the station with Clive now.

The woman you shot...

I've been told she's been dropping in at high stakes poker games, robbing your friends.

Who told you that?

If that's true, no one has looped me in.

As I told you, I stopped by the warehouse to pick up my Santa suit, and I saw that woman about to shoot your partner.


It's a Christmas miracle!

What did you do with the guns?

I'm sorry? Guns?

There were crates of .50 caliber rifles.

Your minions were selling them.

My minions?

I'm a CPA, I'm not a super-villain.

I don't know anything about "minions" or guns.

The only illegal activity going on in my warehouse was trespassing.

There was a suitcase with what looked like hundreds of thousands of dollars.

And visions of sugar plums danced in her head.

Liv, Mr. Boss says that Mary Contreras was about to shoot you.

Is that true?


It's true.

Well, then...


For what it's worth, I'm not planning on pressing charges against her for trespassing.

It is the holiday season.

It turns me into a big softy.



Let's hit the road.

Where to, boss?

Let's see what Mrs. Claus is up to.

How can you not get this? It doesn't matter what you saw.

You work for the police department.

You can't storm into a place without a warrant.

That's why I wore a mask.

Someone needed to take action.

How'd that work out for you?

What if Mr. Boss hadn't shown up when he did?

Why was he even there?

Don't you think it's suspicious?


You've done some crazy stuff before, but this is too far over the line.

And that's on me.

You're not a cop and I've been treating you like one.


You and me?

This strange relationship...

It's over.


I need this. This is my one thing.

Sorry, Liv.


Spiced apple cider!

A holiday staple.

I'm not here to fight.

I've done some soul-searching.

And I think I get it now...

You know, the brains, and how they affect you.

I want to be more empathetic.

You have got blood in your hair.

Is that a bullet hole?


Shop teacher brain was a little intense.

Yeah... I saw on the news.

He sidelined as a superhero.

You know, maybe there's a way for you to get brains that are a little... milder.

You know, I was reading about some research that's been done on synthetic brains.

Now, it's a long way off...

I'm not eating synthetic brains.

Well, they might work just like regular brains but without you having to...

What? Serve a purpose?

If I have to eat brains, I'm helping solve murders while I'm doing it.

Okay, look, obviously this brain is affecting you.

There it is.

You think you get it now, but you just don't.

This isn't the brain, Major. It's me.

You know, I'm sorry, but how am I ever supposed to know which is which?

Can we just be honest for a moment?

We both know, deep down, that this can't work.

Being a zombie has changed me.

You love the woman I was before.

You tolerate the woman I am now.

Who you are now is only temporary.

This brain is temporary.


The not being able to have s*x, the day-to-day personality changes, that's the new normal.

And that's what neither one of us is okay with.

We're not.

The truth is, we belong with our own kind.

Is this...

Are we breaking up?

We have to.

It isn't going to be like this forever.

Ravi is going to find a cure.


Be careful out there.




The subject maintained a normal state for 162 days.

The reversion to zombie form was sudden and complete.

There were no warning signs.

If the cured rat regressed to zombie form, it's more than likely that at some point, the cured humans will as well. The reversion also casts doubt on all working theories about the cure, muting whatever hopes we've been able to muster. And if hope is indeed lost, what's left for our zombies to live for?