01x03 - Chainsaw

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Scream Queens". Aired: September 2015 to December 2016.*
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"Scream Queens" initially focuses on the Kappa sorority, at Wallace University, led by Chanel Oberlin, that is threatened by dean Cathy Munsch; leading to events that reignite a 20-year old m*rder mystery, with the reemergence of the Red Devil.
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01x03 - Chainsaw

Post by bunniefuu »

I don't know.

Pete's always kind of given me the creeps.

Hey, look, he has this bizarre obsession with what's going on in the Kappa House, which is weird enough.

And then the guy's got a Red Devil costume.

In his closet?

Come on, girl.

Which is strange, I'll admit.

I just... I don't know.

I really think I was wrong.

I don't believe he could be the k*ller.

I don't care what you believe, okay?

You have to promise me that from now on, you're not gonna go anywhere alone, and we're both gonna use the Tasers my grandmama sent.

Ooh, pork rinds. Ooh, here.

I'm freaking starving.

There is food nowhere in Kappa House.

Ugh! I guess it makes sense.

The cook did get her face fried off.

The Chanels have started eating cotton balls.

Number Three says it keeps you from being hungry. Hey!

We're stocking up now! Can you get some syrup to dip the ranch chips in?

You want to put syrup on chips?

You can't be serious, right?

Yes, I'm serious!

You're insane.

Uh, all right, let me see.

All right, we have strawberry and chocolate.

What do you want?

Are you out your mind? Chocolate.

(echoing screaming)

(high-pitched whirring)

(groaning)

(thudding)

Aah! Oh! Oh, my God!

What the hell's going on?

We just caught a serial k*ller.

Call the police, please. Oh!

Let's see who you are, you sick son of a bitch. (groaning)

It hurts.

Eugene?!

You know him?

He's in my poli-sci class.

Oh, my God.

Eugene: I'm sorry, okay?

I'll pay for 'em. I left home without my wallet.

Ow, my nuts.

Ow! It hurts so bad!

I don't understand. Where is Number Two's body?

Is she alive? Is she dead?

Who is stealing all these bodies?!

Don't ask me! I'm not the k*ller.

I'm just bored, so I came out here to look at Number Two's frozen dead body, and lo and behold, she's not here.

Look, Chanel, I'm gonna be honest with you.

Sort of over this whole serial m*rder thing that's going on right now.

Last night I had an amazing threesome with Roger and Dodger, and I realized that I'd rather focus my attention this semester on getting spit-roasted by hot golf frat twins than help you figure out who's murdering a bunch of dumb gashes.

What are you saying?!

You heard me.

I got Eiffel Towered by hot morons who are brothers.

And now I'm out.

See, it occurred to me that I don't really care where Chanel #2 is.

You're the president, which means it's your problem.

I'd just hop to it if I were you, because pretty soon, folks are gonna start noticing she's missing, and they're gonna start snooping.

Don't you walk away from me, Number Five!

(laughs)

(echoing): I will destroy you, bitch!

Chanel #2?

(door squeaks open)

(door squeaking)

Wow. Look.

There's a huge stain on the floor.

Although with the Chanels, it really could be anything.

Bulimia, scissor.

Maybe it's blood.

Denise: Of course it's blood.

In my experience, any time somebody asks, "Oh, I wonder if that's blood," it's almost always blood.

I mean, you know how many times it's, like, ketchup?

Zero percent of the time.

Hit the light.

Oh-ho.

Oh! There it is. That's blood.

Grace: But what is that?

It's luminol.

It reacts to the iron in hemoglobin.

Wait. Hold on.

You're telling me, you don't carry a g*n, but you carry around a bottle of that stuff? Yeah!

'Cause it also reacts to an enzyme in horseradish, and I hate horseradish, but I love me some Arby's.

So what I do is, I take my sandwich home, cut the light off, put a little luminol on there, do a little check just to be sure they didn't accidentally sneak a little horsey sauce on it.

Nobody's looking for this girl.

Now, that's suspicious, especially when the bitch done tweeted...

(phone chimes) Look at this.

"I'm being m*rder*d by the Red Devil."

The Chanels said she had some sort of nervous breakdown and went home to California.

Are y'all crazy?

There is a psycho k*lling people.

He k*lled my dear friend and Secure Enforcement Solutions colleague Shondell.

Stabbed that girl right in the face.

And, no, she wasn't that cute to begin with, but that is not the point.

The point is, there's a missing girl, blood on the floor, and she's tweeting, "Oh, hey, just want y'all to know I'm getting m*rder*d," and y'all are standing here like, "Ooh, I wonder what happened."

The girl is dead.

Look, I agree that it does sort of seem that way, but here's what's confusing to me.

Look. Number Two is still posting on Instagram.

There she is by the pool sunbathing.

The bitch is not even cute.

Look, maybe she's just back home in Bel Air. We should find out.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!

Y'all just gonna go to Bel Air? I mean, just like that?

Okay.

Don't ask me if want to go.

Hoes.

♪ Now tell me whatcha gonna do... ♪

Grace: What's with all these Kappa signs?

It's a thing now.

People are saying that the k*ller's targeting Kappas or people associated with Kappa.

So, they figure if he knows they're not, he won't gut 'em like a fish. Ugh!

Chad: It's just blowing my mind, man.

I can't believe my best friend Boone is dead.

Yeah, I heard the coroner calling Boone's death a su1c1de.

It's a bloody tragedy.

Yeah, well, it was really bloody.

I don't know, man.

It's just one of those things in life that just hits you so hard, and you just think to yourself, wow, it's gonna be weeks before I really, truly get over this.

Chanel: Chad?!

Chad, I need to talk to you!

It is so sad about Boone, isn't it?

Oh, are you okay?

I mean, how are you feeling?

Uh, I don't know. How do you...

How do you think I'm feeling, Chanel?

My best friend in the world, who used to compliment me all the time, was m*rder*d, so, news flash.

I'm super sad.

I want to be the one who tells you how awesome you are all the time.

Well, uh, you had your chance, Chanel, and you ruined it when you started freaking out when I said I want to have sex with your corpse.

I know, okay, and I am so sorry.

I just... I want us to be together.

I mean, all I ask is that... maybe you have sex with a smaller number of people.

Man: Whoa... (whimpering)

What?

Do you understand how controlling that is, Chanel?

Okay, I know you're not a psych major, so you're not gonna really process what I'm telling you right now, but what you just said is literally pathological.

Okay, why do you even care how many people I sleep with?

Okay? I always wear protection, and it's not like I love these chicks.

You... you love me?

That is not what I said!

You love me.

Stop saying that.

Look, Chanel, you're hot... I guess.

I mean, your boobs are symmetrical, and you shave your box in a hot way.

All right, but also you're responsible for the worst pledge class in the history of the university. At this point, I'm not even sure if I could have sex with you.

Look, I'd be doing you and all of a sudden look down and I'd see the back of your head, and then I'd just, like, picture the back of the head of one of your ugly pledges. And I'd...

I'm sorry, Chanel. It's just not gonna happen.

I got to break up with you again.

Chad! Yeah.

Please. There-there has to be something I can do.

Ew. Look, just pray.

Pray that all those donkey-faced Kappa pledges get m*rder*d so you can be popular again.

Now, if you'll excuse me, Earl Grey and I need to go mourn our fallen brother and get our drink on.

♪ Then Miss Sleazy set up Eazy to fall... ♪

(whines) ♪ You know why we sinnin' ♪
♪ And Krayzie intended on endin' it when it ends ♪
♪ Wanna come again, again and again ♪
♪ Now tell me whatcha gonna do ♪
♪ Can somebody, anybody tell me why... ♪

OMG, are you hitting on me?

'Cause I heard munching box is what k*lled Michael Douglas.

No. I'm just trying to make friends.

And I was spying on you the other day while you were changing.

Noticed you have a tattoo on the small of your back?

"8/69." What does it mean?

Look, you seem pretty cool, and you have this whole Samantha Ronson thing going on that's pretty dope, but don't ask a lot of questions about me, okay?

Okay.

♪ So you won't be lonely. ♪

Welcome, students, faculty and staff to this rally for sanity and calm, as we vow to take back the night!

(applause and cheering)

The police are still investigating the tragic passing of freshman Tiffany de Salle...

Passing? She had her head mowed off.

And the recent death of junior Boone Clemens has been ruled a su1c1de by the county coroner.

What? That is insane.

Who slits their own throat?

Keeping these facts in mind, we must put to bed wild rumors of a serial k*ller, a so-called Red Devil, stalking this campus and murdering students willy-nilly.

Our university is as safe as ever.

Our security staff of the highest caliber.

We must, therefore, resist the temptation to, for example, tase freshman history major Eugene Melman in the genitals.

After many hours of deep soul-searching, I have, along with the university's board of directors, decided that the Red Devil mascot that has demonstrated our school's pride for the past 80 years is really no longer appropriate to represent us as we forge our way into the future.

Instead, we've decided to highlight this region's proud history with a new mascot.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am thrilled and honored to introduce to you this university's newest addition...

Coney!

♪ ♪

As you know, in 1955 local dairyman Randy Barfman added kelp extract to his ice cream, creating the world's first soft-serve ice cream!

I'd like to say a few words in closing.

♪ I'm gonna make you feel it. ♪

Let's tell each other how we feel about one another.

Find that tortured gay kid in your life.

Hold them close tonight.

And, uh, how about a big, "Go, Cones!"

Good night.

You are a disgrace.

I wonder how many people live in here.

This place is insane.

Grace: So, neither of you have seen Sonia or heard from her?

Not in several weeks.

And are you sure she's not hiding out in your house somewhere and you haven't found her because your house is so damn big?

(chuckles) That's impossible.

Listen, what's going on? Is-is Sonia in trouble?

We don't know.

The bad news is, there's a serial k*ller on campus.

(gasps) But the good news is, your daughter's still posting photos on Instagram.

Denise: Or somebody is posting 'em for her.

Oh, no. Yeah.

That's not even a cute picture.

This is our worst nightmare.

She's drinking again.

Mother: Ladies, you have to understand, our daughter has a disease.

She's been in and out of rehab.

That's why we were so happy when she met Chad, you know?

Frankly, we don't know what he saw in her, but, you know, he just seemed to level her out a little bit.

Um, I'm sorry. Did you say "Chad"?

Yes. Chad Radwell.

Golfer, very handsome.

We spent last Thanksgiving with him.

Well, I found this letter a few weeks ago.

It must have fallen behind her bureau.

"Dear Chanel #2..."

Spending Thanksgiving with you and your family was amazing.

I love that your dad's so rich, and I love porking you so much.

I hope we can keep on porking forever.

You're so freakin' hot, and I love the amazing faces you make when I'm really taking you there.

I'm thankful for you, Chanel #2.

Love, Chad Radwell.

If our daughter is missing, you have to find her.

You have to find her and make sure that she never comes home again.

Damn.

Look, I am not gonna let some guy with a Kn*fe and some anger issues scare me away. My vote? We stick together and try to have a college experience that is as normal as possible until they inevitably catch the k*ller.

Hey.

Why do you think it says "Professor TBD"?

Wes: Hello, ladies and gents. Welcome to Intro to Film Analysis, the only class that you can bring your own popcorn to.

Not bad, huh?

(clears throat)

Oh, look, we have an eager student.

I like that. Yes... student person.

You have a question? Uh, y-yes, I have a question. What are you doing here, Dad?

"Dad." Okay. Okay, yes.

Yes, I am her dad.

Busted. But don't you guys worry.

I will not be playing favorites.

You are a literature professor.

Why are you teaching a film studies class?

Unless you looked at my course schedule and scammed your way into becoming my teacher. Grace. Grace, look, can't we just make the best of this, huh?

I-I am here because you are my daughter.

I want to make sure that you are safe.

(sighs)

Jennifer: Excuse me, do you mind if I light this in here?

Okay.

First day of class.

Let's launch our exploration into the magic of cinematic storytelling with what I consider to be one of the...

(exhales)

Scratch that. With what I consider to be the greatest film of all time.

Blue Is the Warmest Color? Sixteen Candles?


All, uh, great choices.

No, in my mind, the greatest cinematic achievement is the 1974

Tobe Hooper classic The Texas Chain Saw m*ssacre.

Narrator: The film which you are about to see is an account of the tragedy which befell a group of five youths...


(woman screaming)

(chain saw buzzing)

(exhales)

(exhales)

Wow.

A lot going on in those last few frames.

Vietnam, Watergate, the invention of the pill, the White Album.

Has there ever been a more perfect w*apon of destruction?

Yes, Sally survives in the end, but does she?

Aren't we all running from the chain saws in our past?

See you next Tuesday.

(indistinct chatter)

Wow.

You are amazing.

What did any of that mean?

Uh, well, it means that, uh, we've all been traumatized.

Oh.

What we do with the hurt from that trauma defines who we are.

Do we look... inward and-and heal or... do we take that hurt and turn it into anger and take it out on the world?

Which path have you chosen?

Oh, me? I'm just a father trying to look after his daughter.

Yeah. Oh, hey, uh, I actually came by to tell you about this teachers' neighborhood watch I'm starting.

I thought we could maybe have some patrols Yeah.

Walking the campus at night? No. Yes, that...

I don't know if that's...

That's great. No, that's a great idea.

I'm in. Great.

Maybe we could discuss it over a salad or something?

Well, it's a step up from coffee without the... full commitment of a whole meal.

I would love that.

Cool.

Munsch: Hey.

Teach. Hi. I stopped by to... see how your first day of classes went.

Oh, he was wonderful. They loved him.

Hmm. We'd better watch out.

Might have to put you on full-time.

Oh, Gigi, would you mind stopping by my tennis court someday this week?

I'm there every day. I just...

I have something I want to talk to you about.

Hmm.

(heavy breathing)

Man: Something happens when you put on a costume.

It changes you.

One week ago, Aaron Cohen was an absolute nobody.

No friends, no girlfriend.

So when Dean Munsch approached me because I'm five-foot-one and the only guy on campus who could fit into the uniform she ripped off from an ice cream stand...


Hey, Coney. Hey, Coney.

I was like, "What the hell?"

(laughing)

Now I'm the top dog on campus.

Aaron Cohen can't get a date, but Coney gets more trim than a barbershop.

See, when you're Coney, you get certain privileges.

When you put on a costume, you can get away with anything.


♪ Baby, I'm your man... ♪

Forget dental school.

Aaron Cohen is never taking off this costume.

I'm riding the Coney train straight to a career as a professional mascot.


♪ You bet... ♪

(buzzing)

(Aaron screams)

♪ Baby, I'm your man ♪
♪ Don't you know that ♪
♪ Baby, I'm your man... ♪

(Aaron shouting)

♪ You bet... ♪

Oh, no! No!

Don't!

(shouting hysterically)

♪ Do it with me ♪
♪ If you're gonna do it... ♪

(screaming)

♪ If you're gonna do it, do it right, right? ♪
♪ ♪
♪ When I was just ♪
♪ A little girl ♪
♪ I asked my mother ♪
♪ What will I be? ♪

(gasps)

♪ Will I be pretty? ♪
♪ Will I be rich? ♪

This closet is the most precious thing in my life.

It's like a second vag*na to me.

So you sneaking in here and rifling through my clothes is a heinous violation.

You have violated my closet-vag.

Is it true that Karl Lagerfeld is your uncle and he restocks this closet every year?

Well, he's not really my uncle.

I just call him Uncle Karl because he's so close to my parents.

My mother was one of the first Americans ever to wear his surprise skirt.

She was seven.

I even have one of Choupette's in vitro kittens.

Who's Choupette?

His sacré de Birmanie cat, of course.

She has 46,000 followers on Twitter and two nannies.

Luckiest p*ssy in the world.

Please, Mommy, please tell me everything.

Uncle Karl comes here every fall with trunks full of clothes for me to try on.

I keep what he likes.

And what do you do with the clothes from last year?

Burn them. I once thought about donating them to charity, but there is something so depressing about a poor person walking around in couture.

It's like, "Sorry, but that Lanvin sweater is not appropriate for your job at Roy Rogers, welfare queen."

Growing up, all I wanted to be was a fashion girl.

And then tragedy struck.

Is that how you got in that hellacious neck brace?

Was there an accident?

No. Severe scoliosis.

It stunted my growth.

(whispers): But you're my size.

Maybe on a bloaty day.

Oh, my God.

This is perfect.

Chad broke up with me because he said this house is full of losers. But if I fix you up a little bit, there will be one less disaster under this roof.

I will totally look like someone nice.

Mm-hmm. I'm gonna make you over.

Thank you. Thank you, Mommy. Thank you.

But first...

I'm gonna need some pliers.

You know, you and I have talked a good game to those Kappa girls.

And I think it's made a big difference so far.

And while obviously I don't condone a serial k*ller picking off students, I must say the intensity of the experience of being hunted by a psychopath has really bonded them.

I don't know if it'll stick, though. You know, that's been my worry exactly.

Which is why we have to up our game, lead by example, show them how two very different women can work together and get along.

Which is why you and I are moving into Kappa House for a week.

Wait, seriously?

Gigi.

You're terrible at tennis.

I'm gonna leave.

Pack up your stuff this afternoon.

We move into Kappa House tonight.

And, uh, do yourself a favor.

Stay away from my man.

Wes and I are kind of an item, and I call dibs.

You can't call dibs on a person.
Chanel #3: Hi, Sam.

Geez. Hi.

Number Three. So, listen.

There's something I want to talk to you about.

I sort of feel like you and I are two peas in a pod, don't you?

I mean, we're both really smart, and when we talk, it's really meaningful.

Hold on. Wait. Are you a lesbian?

No. No, no, no, no, no.

What I'm trying to say is, I feel like we get along really well, and I would like it if we could become... friends.

But, like, good friends.

Like, best friends. Like... soul mates.

Because there's something I want to tell you, and I can only tell it to my soul mate because it's dark, and no one else can find out about it.

Do you promise me you can keep a secret?

Yeah.

Okay.

You know Swenson? The frozen dinners?

They're like the B-list of Swanson frozen dinners.

Like Swanson for poor people?

I'm a Swenson.

As in Swenson Swenson.

We're, like, billionaires.

But that's great.

I sort of don't think that's a terrible secret.

No, that's not the secret.

This is the secret.

My dad is not my real dad.

See, my mom is crazy and always thinks aliens are talking to her, and the year before I was born, she started corresponding with this really bad man, who's in prison because he's responsible for the deaths of, like, a lot of people.

And my mom evidently arranged these conjugal visits with this guy, and so last year I took a DNA test, and I found out this guy's my real father.

Who's the guy?

Charles Manson.

What? Are you serious?

That's insane.

But wait, if you don't want anyone to find out, why tell me?

Because there's a m*rder*r on the loose, and no one knows who it is, and if someone found out my dad is Charles Manson, everyone would immediately assume the k*ller is me.

Which it isn't.

Okay, well, what do you want me to do?

If and when the next m*rder happens, I need an alibi to prove it could not have been me.

Which it won't be because I'm not the k*ller.

But no one knows when or where the next m*rder will happen.

But when it does, I need you to be my alibi.

And I can be your alibi, too.

We'll be alibi buddies.

"Alibibuddies."

"Alibib..." Uh, I think "alibuddies."

Right, alibuddies.

So it's a deal? Deal.

Hey, Number Five.

Um, we've been doing some snooping about Chanel ♪2.

Did you know she secretly dated Chad Radwell last year?

What?!

Zayday: I know, shocking.

Can you believe she'd do something like that to Chanel?

Uh, well, Chanel's a bitch who deserves whatever's coming to her.

I just can't believe that Chad didn't tell me.

I mean, we were dating, too.

Chad Radwell? I dated him, too, last year.

Okay, wait, you both went out with your friend's boyfriend behind her back?

Well, to be fair, we only went on one date, and it was really weird, like, he made me just watch him play with his Kn*fe collection the whole time.

I mean, I still slept with him.

But my heart wasn't totally in it.

Chanel: b*tches, gather round.

Holy mother of God, what is this?

("Two of Hearts" by Stacey Q playing)

♪ I-I-I-I-I-I need, I need you ♪
♪ I-I-I-I-I-I need, I need you ♪
♪ I-I-I-I-I-I need, I need you... ♪

b*tches, I'd like you to meet Chanel ♪6.

♪ Two of hearts, two hearts that b*at as one ♪
♪ Two of hearts, I need you, I need you. ♪

No way, no freaking way!

You can't make a pledge a Chanel.

What do you want me to do? Two Chanels are dead.

I need Chanels, and I'm running out of minions.

Hester, you took your neck brace off, and you look, um, amazing.

Hester: My muscles have atrophied, and the pain from not wearing my brace has me on the verge of passing out, but I've never been happier in my whole life.

Chanel says I can hold her hair back now on purge nights.

(mouths)

This will not stand!

You don't have any respect for any of us or the rules of this house.

You don't deserve to be president.

She does have a point.

Okay, pledges, line up for tonight's festivities.

We're going to play a game called Cocaine or Dildo.

Munsch: Ooh, that sounds fun but also kind of like hazing and illegal in, like, what, six different ways.

But I brought Trivial Pursuit: '90s Edition.

Sounds boffo, but we're having a house-only night tonight.

Okay, works for us.

We're moving in, to keep an eye on you girls, for the rest of the week.

All right, everybody listen up.

Chad Radwell at the podium.

Senior council, now in session.

As we all know, Boone's death was ruled a su1c1de.

Wait, wait, I heard a rumor Boone k*lled himself.

That's what I just said.

Well, I heard that he k*lled himself because he was gay.

There's no way Boone was gay.

He didn't seem gay at all.

You know, one time we were talking about boobs and how much I love them, and he was like, "Yeah, dude, I love boobs, too."

So, like, what am I supposed to do with that?

Guys, Boone was gay.

He told me.

But I don't think it was a su1c1de.

What?!

Guys, Boone's throat was sliced open, which, A, is an unusual way to k*ll yourself, and, B, when the cops let me into the dining room to get my Iliad CliffNotes, I saw footprints leading away from the body.

This pair of bloody footprints
led downstairs to the bathroom, stopped in front of the toilet, and then led back to the body, which means that if Boone did k*ll himself, he slit his own throat, laid down to die, realized he had to use the bathroom, so he walked downstairs, urinated, and then walked back to the exact place he was lying before and then d*ed.

Guys, I think Boone was m*rder*d.

There's a k*ller on this campus, and now he's targeting the Dickie Dollar Scholars, so I think it's high time the Dickie Dollar Scholars do something about it.

What? That Take Back the Night rally?

That was a joke.

I say we do the opposite of "take back the night."

I say we get 'roided up, find a bunch of baseball bats, roam around the streets yelling the Red Devil's name until he comes out and fights us.

You really reckon that will work?

Dude, in the ghetto, if you run around the streets with baseball bats, yelling the Red Devil's name, they have to come out and fight you.

There's a whole code; believe me, I know.

Now, let's pop some gym candy, head down to the White Stallion, get our drink on and avenge the m*rder of Brother Boone!

(everyone shouts)

Dickie Dollar Scholars!

(knocking on door)

Grace: Hey.

Can I come in?

Yeah, sure.

Look, I'm really sorry that I didn't respond to your messages, and also that I thought you were a serial k*ller.

It's cool, stuff happens.

I just think it's probably best to be extra cautious in these situations.

But I do think I was mistaken.

What do you think about Chad Radwell?

Oh, no, you're not dating him, are you?

What?! No, I think he's the k*ller.

Okay, well, I found some things.

You show me yours, I'll show you mine.

Mm-hmm, all right, well, first of all, Chad Radwell is a man-whore.

Like, he has literally had sex with every girl in Kappa.

That is not news.

Okay, but take that to build a psychological profile.

He clearly sees people as objects.

Sociopathic murderers dehumanize their prey.

Also he's got some sort of, like, Kn*fe obsession thing.

Look, I can't stand the guy, but do you have any proof of him being anywhere near the crime scenes, any motive?

No, but, ugh, I'm telling you, the motive has something to do with whatever happened in the Kappa bathroom 20 years ago.

I mean, what if Chad Radwell is that baby all grown up, and he's come back to get his revenge?

Hmm. We have to find out more about who that baby was.

If it was a boy, then it has to be Chad.

Interesting you should say that.

'Cause while you were ignoring me, thinking I was a psychotic m*rder*r...

Oh, my God, Pete, moving on.

I did some gumshoe work.

All right.

So I couldn't connect any of these names to Kappa or to the university.

I don't know if they changed their names, got married, got m*rder*d.

But there's absolutely no record of any of these names except for one, and that is Greenwell.

Well, who is she?

Only a former Kappa sister who dropped out of school just two credits shy from graduating the same year that baby was born.

Kind of weird, don't you think?

I mean, just two credits shy?

Something pretty bad had to happen for her to do something like that.

We have to find her.

I already did.

She's six hours away.

Well, come on, let's go.

♪ Backstreet's back, all right! ♪

Chad: Hey, Red Devil!

I'm calling you out!

This is ghetto code, brah!

Oh, hey, Red Devil.

You like me now, bro?

You like me now when I got my baseball bat, bro?!

Yeah! Boom! Yeah!

Huh, Red Devil?

Hey, Dickie Dollars, look.

That's probably his car.

(everyone screams)

♪ Everybody ♪
♪ Yeah... ♪

Yeah, Red Devil!

Boom! Take that!

♪ Everybody... ♪

Boom!

(grunting, sighing)

♪ Rock your body right... ♪

I thought this would be a lot easier.

(chain saw motor revs)

Oh, hey, Red Devil.

See, I told you.

Ghetto code's a real thing.

Let's get him!

(second chain saw motor revs)

Oh, my God, there's two of them!

This is for Brother Boone!

(shouting)

♪ Yeah ♪

♪ Rock your body ♪

♪ Yeah... ♪

(screaming)

♪ Backstreet's back, all right! ♪

Chad Radwell!

♪ All right, all right ♪
♪ Oh ♪


♪ Now throw your hands up in the air... ♪

Man: Run!

♪ And wave 'em around like you just don't care ♪
♪ And if you wanna party, let me hear you yell ♪
♪ 'Cause we've got it goin' on again ♪
♪ Everybody ♪
♪ Backstreet's back, all right! ♪

Zayday, it's Denise Hemphill from Secure Enforcement Solutions. - Hey, girl.

Hey, I need to talk to you.

Where you heading?

Oh, I'm just heading home from the library.

Let me give you a ride.

You sure?

I'm sure, come on.

Thanks, so Kappa House is just right up the road.

What are you doing?

I'm stopping a k*ller, that's what I'm doing.

Are you crazy? I'm gonna be late for dinner.

But you're gonna be right on time for justice.

Mm-hmm.

That's right, Zayday Williams, I'm onto you, and you are what us detectives call a person of extreme murderous interest.

Okay, first of all, no one says that, and also, you're not a detective.

Tell it to the judge, 'cause you goin' downtown.

What exactly do you think you found out?

Found out everything about you, little girl.

Uh-huh.

I know you thought I was on your side when you were sashaying around in that little fancy mansion in Bel Air, but I been onto you.

Exhibit "A."

You plan on challenging Chanel for Kappa House President.

And what better way to knock off the competition than m*rder in the first?

Mm-hmm.

Exhibit "B."

Oh, it's just a CD from Best Buy.

The same Best Buy where my good friend Shondell worked.

I was inside Kappa House when Shondell got m*rder*d.

Which brings me to Exhibit "C."

What if there's more than one k*ller?

Yeah. Yeah, yeah.

You and somebody else.

Now, that would really throw Secure Enforcement Solutions off the scent.

Yeah, while-while you were in the house, your murderous cohort was stabbing my friend Shondell in the face.

And while you were buried up to your neck in the backyard, your accomplice mowed off a deaf girl's head.

Ha! Drops the mic.

This is insane.

No, no, no, no, no.

What's insane are your tweets to the executive producer of the hit TV show How to Get Away with m*rder.

Exhibit "D."

Uh-huh.

Six months ago, you tweeted:

"@ShondaRhimes If Annalise Keating really wanted to get away with m*rder she'd find a partner and work as a team! ♪ Cahoots."

That's not evidence.

I just like the show!

♪ Cahoots! ♪

Okay. You know what?

I'm gonna use the hand you forgot to handcuff and call 911.

Well, you might want to call Defense Attorney Alan Dershowitz when you see Exhibit "E."

Uh-huh.

See, you, Zayday Williams, have a chainsaw under your bed.

Oh! What?

Super sleuth Denise Hemphill found it.

I can explain that.

Explain it to the D.A., soul sister!

My grandmama sent me that chainsaw.

You say what now?

When they took away our tasers, my grandmama sent me that chainsaw to keep under my bed for protection.

S...

So your grandmother gave you the chainsaw.

Yes.

And I'd like it if you put it back right where you found it.

Okay.

I... am gonna let you go.

This time.

But I'm warning you...

I gots m'eye on you.

You crazy as hell.

(door shuts)

I gots my eye on you!

(gentle, slow, acoustic music playing)

You were so right about salad, you know?

It regulates the colon and it's not as stuffy as going out to dinner is.

It doesn't scream "date."

Well, mostly what keeps this from being a date is that there are three of us.

Well...

Miss Caldwell and I are roomies now.

You'll forgive me if I'm feeling a little overprotective.

Hey, I for one, am happy you tagged along.

Plus, you brought all this fun dressing!

I'm loving this Thousand Island jam I got goin' on.

Salad tastes like a Big Mac.

(bottle makes fart sound) Oh.

(laughing)

(sighs) Too slow.

(phone chiming) That's better.

Oh, gotta go.

(laughing)

Hey.

Where you guys going?

My Philosophy study group.

But what do you mean, "you guys"?

I'm by myself.

But... where's Gracie?

I thought she was upstairs with you.

I don't know where she is, actually.

The GPS said she was in this house!

Wait. You tracking her phone? Yes.

I gotta know where she is at all times.

Okay, well, maybe she turned it off, because serial k*ller or not, that's a little creepy.

I'm sorry, ladies, but I have to go find her.

This was really great, though.

Well, I am about ready to turn in.

What do you say?

Let's do it, roomie!

(phone ringing)

Hello?

Oh, thank God.

Where are you?

I'm, uh, I'm at the library.

I thought we promised you would never go anywhere alone.

I'm not alone.

There's, like, a million people here.

Look, please don't freak out.

I'll be fine, okay?

I'll let you know when I'm done.

Yeah.

Yeah, you call me when you're done.

Okay.

(toilet flushes)

(Gigi gasps) Dean Munsch.

That nightgown is amazing.

Thank you.

Um, nighttime really is the only time it's socially acceptable to dress like a 19th century homesteader, which is my favorite style of dress.

Good night.

Good night!

Oh!

I almost forgot.

I need to sleep with a white noise machine on.

I hope that's okay.

Oh! Sure!

Go for it.

(whale distress calls playing)

(loudly): Hon, it's a little...

Hon, it's a little loud.

Is there any way to turn it down a bit!?

No, I'm sorry.

There's no volume control.

That's just how loud it is.

And what... what are those noises?

Those are whale distress calls.

I find them very soothing.

Are there other noises that the machine can make?

Oh, sure!

There are, like, 500 different white noise settings.

"Baboon att*ck."

(baboons hooting, screaming, screeching)

"Catastrophically Depressurized Airplane Cabin."

(air hissing, people screaming)

I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep with all that noise!

I'll tell you what, we'll compromise.

I'll set the machine to "Slasher Movie" and we'll leave it at that.

(spooky music playing)

(people shrieking, screaming)

Yep. You know what?

I actually think I'm gonna go ahead and...

(screaming and shrieking continue)

I'm gonna sleep on the couch.

Yeah, I think that would be best.

(screaming continues in distance)

(screaming fades into distance)

(sighs)

(sighs)

(chainsaw revving)

(screams)

Oh...

(screams) (chainsaw buzzing)

(screaming)

(gasping)

(screaming)

(screams)

(yells)

(grunts)

(yells, groans)

No... No!

(sobbing)

(grunts, groans)

You okay?

I think so.

Girls, go!

Get back to your room!

Call 911!

(chainsaw motor idling)

Munsch: What's going on?

Gigi: What's going on?!

Didn't you hear the screaming?

No!

I mean, yes, I heard screaming, but that's because the white noise machine was set to "Slasher Movie."

Seriously, what happened?

The girls are all freaked out.

(revs chainsaw)

What are you doing?

You're not taking another step until the police arrive.

(siren approaching)

You're the k*ller.
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