01x02 - Surf N' Turf

[bunniefuu]

♪ ♪

♪ Where'd you get those fancy clothes? ♪
♪ Where'd you get those, goodness knows... ♪

♪ ♪

(crowd murmuring)

Man: Okay, where is it?

(cameras clicking)

Damn.

Got a DB on the beach.

Washed up near lifeguard tower 17.

Ow!

(crowd gasps)

Oh, hey, man. Um... I live just right up, uh... right up the beach here.

I must have gotten lost. Stay right here!

This is indecent exposure. I need to call this in.

Detective Martin Riggs, at your service.

(spits)

You need to cover yourself up, Detective.

You make a valid point, Officer.

The sun can be a bitch.

As you were.

♪ Act nice, act nice and gentle with me. ♪

Murtaugh: Will you go put some damn clothes on?

I'm dressed.

Uh-uh-uh, you take your narrow butt upstairs and put something on that covers it.

We're having company tonight.

It's just Riggs.

He'll be dressed worse than me.

It's called pants. Go put some on.

Uh-uh! Don't you touch those ribs.

They're relaxing.

Trish: I wish we could say the same about you, baby.

It's been three weeks you've been off work, and you haven't really taken advantage of the downtime.

Murtaugh: Well, I'm back at work tomorrow.

Assuming we get cleared for the sh**t.

What's Avery say? Should be fine.

What was I supposed to do?

My partner handcuffs me to his trailer, and then I drive a truck through the wall of...

You didn't tell me that part.

What part?

Handcuff you to his trailer part.

Oh, I meant he handcuffed the suspect...

Handcuffed you to his trailer.

Yes, Counselor.

Well... (sighs) just make sure he understands our one rule: at the end of every shift, you come back to me.

I will make that crystal clear, my lady.

And if anybody's gonna handcuff you... it's gonna be me.

Mmm.

I got some handcuffs in the other room.

Riana and Roger Jr.: Oh!

That's disgusting.

What?

We're about to eat.

That's... that's nasty!

♪ ♪

♪ All those eyes on me ♪
♪ As I sink ♪
♪ Into the open sea... ♪

(phone ringing)

Relax, Murtaugh. I'm on my way, buddy.

Woman: Hey, sugar!

It's Debbie Sue, your realtor down in El Paso.

I have been trying to reach you.

Um, sorry, yeah. Uh, been a busy week.

Well, great news.

The most darling young couple just made an offer on your house.

♪ We are the sleepers, we bite our tongue ♪
♪ We set the fire ♪
♪ And we let it burn ♪
♪ Through the dreamers ♪
♪ We hear the hum... ♪

What do you want me to do, sugar?

Mr. Riggs, y'all still there?

Sell it.

♪ Let's go... ♪

Trish: Roger?

Hmm?

You forgetting something?

Come on, baby. You need to monitor your heart rate.

Doctor's orders.

What do they know?

How to revive you when your heart stops in the middle of a delivery room.

Yeah, besides that.

(sighs)

I've been thinking.

You've been on the job 25 years.

Not a nick on you.

You get partnered with Riggs three days, you crashed two cars, nearly got yourself k*lled.

What are you saying? I thought you liked him more than I do.

This whole dinner thing was your idea.

I like Martin.

I-I mean, I feel for the man.

I'm just wondering... (sighs) do you think he's the right partner for you?

♪ As we sink ♪
♪ Into the open sea ♪
♪ We are the sleepers ♪
♪ We bite our tongue ♪
♪ We set the fire and we let it burn ♪
♪ Through the dreamers ♪
♪ We hear the hum ♪
♪ They say, "Come on, come on, let's go" ♪
♪ So come on, come on, let's... ♪

Is he insane?

Does he have any idea how hard I worked on these ribs?

I don't think he coming, D.

Very astute.

Now I see why you're going to Princeton.

Roger. Stop.

Now, do you think you should call him?

Make sure he's okay.

Oh, he better not be okay.

(grunts, laughs)

(crowd whooping, clamoring)

♪ ♪

(laughs)

(cell phone ringing)

(groaning)

Hello?

Three hours late!

No phone call? No excuses?

You know what? For as long as you are breathing, I don't want to hear it.

And I also want you to know that I am hurt, and I'm man enough to say it.

Oh, you don't have nothing to say?

Nothing to say for yourself?

I miss you, too, Rog.

(phone beeps)

I invite you into my home to break bread with my family.

I spent three days kneading and working those ribs till they fall off the bone.

No call. No apology.

You're just sitting there with your shades on like you're Johnny freakin' Depp.

Man, take the damn shades off!

Man, put the damn shades back on.

(door opens)

Avery: Crockett and Tubbs. Get in here.

Do either of you have any idea what this number is?

Uh, the number of words in the Book of Genesis.

Number of cats in your apartment.

Um, pies.

It was rhetorical!

It's the amount of money you two cost the city working together for three days.

Despite that staggering amount of financial exposure, the city attorney hasn't demanded that I fire your asses.

So you know what we're gonna do?

We're gonna ease you back into it.

We have a 415 up in the Hollywood Hills.

Cool. What is that? Double homicide?

I think it's a jewelry heist.

It's a noise complaint.

What?

I've been robbery/homicide longer than you.

And if you want to stay, you're gonna show the bosses that number isn't gonna go up.

Consider it done, Cap.

Let's go!

Hey, come on, does this guy really feel ready?

No, but it's not my call.

I don't get it, either.

Guy must have friends in powerful places.

Trust me, that guy has no friends.

Well, now he has you.

And, Murtaugh, remind him that the job is to stop a noise complaint, not cause one.

♪ Stop, rave police... ♪

(excited chatter, cheering)

Hey, you were asking me why I box.

You tell me any other job you can make $50 million at the end of the night.

Know what I'm saying?

Am I a thug? No, I ain't no thug.

I'm a specialist.

A businessman. (chuckles)

(music continues in distance)

Man: Damn, that's some next-gen hardware!

How many can I have?

As many as you need.

Hey, you know what?

Forget about dinner. Okay?

We don't need a personal relationship.

Let's keep it professional.

But while we're on the job, we got to work together like surf and turf.

Cool. I'm turf.

No, you're surf.

You live on the beach, butt naked.

This is non-negotiable, Roger.

Pineapple and ham.

That's gross. I don't want to be either.

Chips and salsa.

Okay, I can roll with that.

Okay. I'm spicy salsa with the tomatoes blended nicely on the side.

You'd be mild and chunky at best.

You know, I'm trying to like you.

Hello, ma'am. We are responding to a noise complaint.

They have been partying all day.

The music and dr*gs... I smell reefer.

Actually, I do detect something.

Do you smell that?

(sniffs) Yeah.

Is that the faint aroma of freshly baked coffee cake?

(chuckles) Yes, it is.

Would you two care for a piece?

Ah, I'd hate to impose, but...

(a*t*matic g*nf*re)

(crowd screaming)

Hey, you can't be... (grunts)

Hey. Where's our sh**t?

Get out of the truck. Out!

(grunts)

(engine revs)

♪ I've been having this vision... ♪

(watch beeping)

410 King in pursuit of a propane truck heading south on Outpost.

Request backup and an airship.

(tires screech)

♪ Bringing my dreams to fruition ♪
♪ I ain't playing at all ♪
♪ Bring out the body bags ♪
♪ I'm 'bout to k*ll and deliver it ♪
♪ To the mortician ♪
♪ I got to do what I got to do ♪

(horns honking)

♪ I got to do what I got to do ♪
♪ I pray to God, he never came ♪
♪ I'm-a do me, I'm-a do me ♪
♪ And that's in my blood, I'll never change... ♪

(cell phone ringing)

Trish: Hey, baby.

You find me any new clients?

Murtaugh: I'm working on it, Counselor.

Hey, can I call you back?

Sure. I was just thinking about Martin.

Maybe we should give him another chance tonight at dinner.

♪ I got to do what I got to do ♪

(a*t*matic g*nf*re)

♪ I got to do what I got to do ♪
♪ I pray to God, he never came ♪
♪ I'm-a do me, I'm-a do me ♪
♪ And that's in my blood, I'll never change... ♪

Uh, can we put a pin in bringing him around the kids for now?

I got to jump.

(tires screech)

♪ I got to do what I got to do ♪
♪ I pray to God, he never came... ♪

Take the sh*t, Murtaugh!

♪ That's in my blood, I'll never change... ♪

Take the sh*t!

♪ That's in my blood, I'll never change. ♪

Hey, what are you doing?

Why didn't you take the sh*t?

Because he's driving a propane truck.

I didn't want any collateral damage.

And you want to be spicy salsa.

Well, how far do you think he's gonna get in the middle of Hollywood?

I'd say about two blocks.

(indistinct police radio chatter)

Murtaugh: Scorsese, what do you think?

Little bougie of a pad for my taste.

I prefer the Bird Streets or the views from up on Mulholland.

You make it up this way much?

Everyone dies, Murtaugh. Even you.

Let me guess. Death by g*nsh*t wounds.

Very perceptive, Tango. Or are you Cash?

I always get you guys confused.

Our vic's name is Ronald Dawson.

Up-and-coming light heavyweight.

He was renting this place.

My guess: he played at being hard and pissed off some actually hard-playing dudes who took him out.

He was the primary target.

Good work, Bailey. This is my protégé.

Or alternate theory: he wasn't the target.

All right, let's see what we got.

Hey, that's my phone.

Look at all the b*llet holes around here.

Well, our vic wasn't exactly keeping a low profile.

All right? So why spray the place?

He must not have been the main target.

Well, looky here.

Our party girl over there was taking selfies.

Here she is in the pool, obviously looking for her top.

Doing blow.

Scorsese, you missed quite a party.

And there she is with the host of the party.

Now, check out the cocktail waitress in the background.

She's running before the g*nshots.

Which means she saw the sh**t.

Riggs: Or the sh**t saw her.

Maybe she's the target.

What kind of shoes was the waitress wearing?

Riggs: White Keds. Why?

All right.

Let's find our Cinderella.

Wow. You two are like peaches and cream.

Starsky and Hutch.

Which one's Starsky?

Both: I am.

Hey, Chief, before you add up that bill, the damage to the party happened before we got there.

That's true, although there may be some landscaping issues.

And you thrashed a motorcycle.

And the big expl*si*n in the middle of Hollywood.

Okay, we're gonna need separate tabs.

Not now. We have company.

This is Special Agent Bennet Hirsch.

FBI?

A*F.

I'm here because of the g*n used at the party.

Now, it appears that it was a next-gen w*apon that can fire several rounds at once.

But who would make something like that?

Could be DARPA, could be one of several private m*llitary contractors.

We have a lead on a waitress that fled the scene.

She could be a witness.

I haven't assigned you guys the case yet.

We got the sh**t.

Well, I mean, we barbecued the sh**t, but we were the first responders.

And you're forgetting the most important part.

We stopped the noise complaint.

Find the girl.

Murtaugh: Hey, Doc, how's it going with Riggs?

Are you making any progress?

I can't discuss a patient with you, Murtaugh.

Okay, well, just blink or something if you think my life is in danger.

(folder slaps)

Excuse me.

I'm sorry to hunt you down, Detective, but you've missed our last three sessions.

I must have gotten the dates wrong.

Hmm.

You looking for this?

Absolutely not.

It would be inappropriate to drink on duty.

But now that I've seen it, it is my duty to confiscate it.

You can pick this up at the end of the day.

Thank you, Dr. Cahill.

(footsteps)

Cahill: Huh. So, the rumors are true.

The women's bathroom is much nicer.

(door closes)

I got to think this is some kind of violation of my privacy.

Riggs, our sessions are a condition of you being allowed back in the field.

You want to work? You want to carry?

You better talk.

Okay, Doc.

Okay.

(sighs)

I was leading a mission when things went south.

I lost my entire squadron.

When I got back home, I wasn't the same man.

And my fiancée at the time was a flight attendant.

She couldn't be around me anymore.

So she left.

I tried to get her back. I even... bought a ticket on one of her flights.

Mm, let me guess.

Everybody got food poisoning?

How'd you know?

That's the plot of Airplane!

It's a hell of a film.

All right, Riggs, I'm done chasing.

We had a nice moment there, Doc.

What do you want from me?

Something true. Anything.

What happened to your eye?

Bar fight.

You win?

That was the point, I suppose.

Physical pain is better than emotional any day, but believe it or not, talking helps.

What hurts you the most?

Scorsese: She's pregnant.

How do you know?

Blood samples from Cinderella's shoe show elevated levels of HCG, which are either associated with pregnancy or testicular cancer.

I'll go with pregnancy.

That's why you get paid the big bucks.

Put her somewhere between nine and 12 weeks.

Bailey: All right, fellas, I may have a lead on our Cinderella.

See, now, that's the kind of useful police work I'm talking about.

Talk to me, Bailey.

The name the catering company had was fake, along with the address.

But they did have a number for the phone she used.

Okay, so did you do the ping thing to get...?

Oh, "ping thing." That's a technical term.

We should dial the modem, go on GeoCities.

I triangulated the phone's most common location by comparing the signal strength to the time lag.

Bailey... do you have an address for me, yes or no?

Bailey: Cinderella's address, as requested.

Thank you.

Not exactly ideal digs for an expecting mother.

LAPD.

I guess we're gonna have to go all the way back to the station and get a warrant.

(cat screeches)

Did you hear that?

Sounds like a woman in distress to me.

Good thing we're here.

Clear.

Clear.

Natasha Belenko.

Could be her real name.

50 milligrams of newgen.

That's a prenatal vitamin.

You take it when you're pregnant and iron-deficient.

How the hell you know that?

(footsteps)

It's okay. We're the police.

We just want to talk to you.

I'm going up!

Okay, you go up!

(car horn blares)

Hey! It's okay, look!

Hey, hey, I'm a cop! Natasha, it's okay.

I'm a cop.

You don't look like a policeman.

I didn't say I was an exemplary one.

(sobs)

It's not a great option, Natasha.

It's a long way down.

No, no, no, no, no!

No! Riggs, get away from the ledge!

Hey, look, far be it for me to tell anyone that they need to continue living.

My only request... you wait another seven months.

What do you know about me?

I know you're taking care of yourself because you already love that child.

Most important thing in the world to you is protecting that baby.

Let me help you.

You can't protect us.

Look, I know we just met, but it's probably the only thing I can do.

Riggs!

Trust me.

I'm not gonna let anything happen to you.

Damn it.

(Natasha screams)

No, no, no!

(both groaning, coughing)

You okay?

Yeah, I think so.

(classical music playing)

Hey!

It's okay, I'm a cop.

(groaning)

Uh, the city will take care of all this.

Just tell 'me to put it on my tab.

Martin Riggs.

Avery: Help me understand this.

He jumped off a roof with her?

More like a leaping dive with a twist.

But I'm not the most reliable witness.

My eyes were closed.

This man is truly dangerous.

I can't allow him to be in the field.

Doc, you're gonna have to back me up on this.

I mean, psychologically speaking, he's... he's nuts, right?

He's in a lot of pain. That's all I can say.

He lost his wife and child less than a year ago.

Child?

Murtaugh, you didn't know.

She was pregnant.

(quietly): Oh, my...

Riggs (over intercom): So what happened?

I was working at a bar in San Diego when I started dating this man.

I thought it was love.

One day, I took a picture of him, and I wanted to send it to my family.

He got mad.

He took out the SIM card and microwaved it.

What's this lovely gentleman's name?

Gino Corelli.

But I don't think it's real.

I was ready to break it off when...

You got pregnant.

So I followed him to a motel one day.

I peeked in through the window, expecting him to be there with another woman.

But instead, there were bags with money and g*ns in boxes.

Then he saw me.

And like ice, he sh*t at me.

I was scared, so I ran to L.A. to hide out.

Then at the party, there was one of the men from the motel.

He saw me, and then...

(echoing screams)

Hey. It's okay.

(sobs)

Natasha.

I give you my word.

You and you child are gonna be safe.

Riggs: I want her in protective custody.

Safe house. 24-hour watch.

I'll take the first shift.

No way. Someone else will cover it.

Riggs, you're not being punished. You done good.

The day's over. Go home.

All right, well, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?

Yeah.

Hey.

Huh?

You want to come have dinner with us?

No.

No? Not a "No, thank you."

Just flat-out rejection.

Come on, Rog. I know what you're trying to do.

All right? I'm not a charity case.

You know, personally, I'd like to spend as little time with you as possible.

But last night when you didn't show up, Trish made me eat a kale salad.

Not even a respectable lettuce.

Man, I worked three days on those ribs.

You look at 'em, and they just fall right off the bone.

You want to stay here by yourself, fine with me.

My ribs are superb.

Rog...

I'm from Texas.

Come on, don't embarrass yourself.

Trish: Did your thing on the ribs... ah!

No, no, let Martin have it. He's our guest.

He doesn't want it. He's still working...

Oh, no, no, no, no, no!

I got room for one more.

Can I be excused?

I have a ton of homework.

Phone on the table.

And you can leave once our guest is finished.

I'm done.

Go ahead.

Beer?

Yeah, man, I-I'd love one.

All right.

Absolutely not.

Riggs: Oh, come on, Rog! What, are you gonna send the kid off to college without a tolerance?

You don't want him waking up on some frat house lawn, puking all over himself.

My advice?

Two beers a day and a sh*t of whiskey on the weekends.

Doctor's orders.

Okay, one beer.

After you finish your homework.

Well, I don't want him thinking it's some kind of big rebellion.

Right?

Right.

Boy, you can smell a beer.

Just a... (sniffs)

That's it.

(laughs)

Some parent you'd make.

Hey, I'm sorry about that.

About what?

(baby crying over speaker)

Baby?

Want to help me upstairs?

Yes.

Trish: Heard a crazy story down at the courthouse today.

There was a high-speed chase in the hills.

Couple of hero cops chased down a propane truck that blew a hole the size of a crater.

It was more like a pothole, and I wouldn't call them "hero" cops.

(chuckles): I mean, these things get exaggerated.

Okay, I didn't want you to be worried.

Roger, I've been a cop's wife for over 20 years.

Worrying, I've learned to live with. Lying, I won't.

Okay, I'm sorry.

It's just, my past three decades as a cop hasn't been as interesting and action-packed as the three days with Riggs.

(laughs) I noticed.

He's a good man.

And I can't imagine what he's been through.

He lost his child.

What?

His wife was pregnant.

♪ Held on hold ♪
♪ Like a noose, like a rope ♪
♪ Got a medicine ♪
♪ Take no mercy on him ♪
♪ Boiling his blood... ♪

Baby, you remember when you were in uniform, and you busted up that cr*ck house and you brought home the stray?

Yeah. Roscoe was a great dog.

(chuckles): Oh, God, Roger. Roscoe was a nightmare.

I mean, he bit the arm off the sofa.

Crapped everywhere and att*cked every stranger in sight.

What are you saying? Is-is Riggs... Roscoe in this scenario?

I'm saying... even though we loved him, we couldn't have Roscoe today.

Why? Because we have a bigger house?

Nicer things?

Because we have more to lose.

♪ The time is running out ♪
♪ And I'm a long way from home ♪
♪ Laid up in bed, you laid up in... ♪

Riggs!

♪ Holding the pain ♪
♪ Like you're holding your breath ♪
♪ I prayed you would sleep ♪
♪ Sleep like a stone ♪
♪ You're right next to me ♪
♪ But you're a long way from home. ♪

Sorry we're late. He slept in.

Riggs: I didn't realize this was so formal.

I would have worn dress socks.

I brought the bagels, so...

You please use a Kn*fe? This is a real meeting.

Sorry.

Continue.

b*llet fragments found at the scene and in the body are particularly lethal.

They're designed to split mid-air, giving them a wider hit radius and almost 100% accuracy.

That's not a thing that people do.

It's not gonna... the hands to flavor, it's weird.

Hirsch: You know, the good news about these b*ll*ts, they can only be fired out of one g*n, the MG10.

It's illegal stateside, and it's only licensed for use in the m*llitary overseas.

Well, one of 'em got out. Who makes this thing?

It's a private arms contractor, Stonehill Industrial Group, down south near San Diego.

Hey, any luck with the witness?

She's in protective custody, going through I.D. books today.

Hey, gentlemen, just a word to the wise.

Arms contractors don't take kindly to accusations of misappropriated weapons.

What he means is, it's a government facility, so tread lightly.

I'm taking Riggs to a g*n factory.

What could go wrong?

Garrison: I don't understand what some gangbanger sh**ting has to do with this company.

Because we believe that one of your g*ns was the m*rder w*apon.

The MG10.

That's impossible.

That w*apon's for m*llitary use overseas only.

Riggs: Whoo!

You got to let me try one of them!

Oh, this is a closed range. Oh, I'm just browsing.

Martin Riggs.

I assume that you have records of every w*apon you manufacture here.

Yes. We have detailed manifests to ensure that every g*n we make, every g*n we ship is accounted for, every single one.

Jack Kirstein.

Head of weapons testing.

Ooh, those burns look fresh.

Let me guess. Hot brass from a sn*per r*fle?

You been sharpshooting lately?

I was trying to k*ll a coyote who was trespassing.

Did you get him?

Slippery bastard got away.

Murtaugh: Can I see those?

Sure. Just call the Pentagon, ask permission.

That big building in Arlington?

(laughs)

Or I could freeze your operation till I got a warrant.

You know, smelly little building in downtown L.A.

I could shut you down for days, maybe even weeks.

(sighs)

You got 20 minutes.

Okay, but don't start the clock until I start reading.

Okay, go.

Riggs: Ooh, what are these?

Test the weapons.

If they're not up to spec, I tag 'em and they destroy 'em.

How do you know if they're defective?

(laughs)

Oh, my God, I'm so sorry. Sorry!

This is for authorized professionals only!

You need to leave now.

I was not expecting that kick.

That g*n is definitely defective though.

I tell you that right now.

It should be destroyed immediately.

Murtaugh: Hey, man, while you were playing with toys, look what I found.

All defective weapons are signed out to the A*F to be destroyed.

And look who just signed out a whole cache of those MG-10s.

Was that Joe... Gonzo?

Gino Corelli... fake name of our mystery man.

We don't know who he is, but that's a damn good start.

That is how Starsky rolls.

Or we could just call him.

Call?

See, because I've got his number right there.

How... how you...? How'd you...?

You could be Huggy Bear. That's a good idea.

But, see, this is Starsky.

Speaking of which, how's your hood slide?

'Cause mine's spectacular.

If called upon, I could do a great hood slide.

Consider yourself called upon.

You know, just call the damn number.

Uh-huh.

(phone ringing)

(phone beeps, ringing stops)

Excuse me, sir.

Here to pick up the witness.

What?

Riggs, what?

Riggs? It was Hirsch's voice on the phone!

Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!

(tires screeching, siren wailing)

Hey, darling.

You miss me?

(siren wailing)

This is on me.

I should've stayed with her!

It's not. It was Avery's call.

Besides, we don't know anything happened yet.

Do... do you realize you're in the wrong lane?

(tires screeching)

I gave her my word that she was gonna be safe.

(phone ringing)

Bailey.

Bailey, I need you to connect us to the safe house where Natasha is.

Well, she's gone. Agent Hirsch picked her up.

Took her to the A*F offices for photos.

Agent Hirsch may not know that his cover is blown.

All government vehicles are installed with LoJack.

All right, I'm on it. You want me to put out a BOLO?

Yes!

No!

Track him and call us back.

Hirsch: Let's go!

(exhales)

Yo, we got a problem.

Your cops were sniffing around Stonehill today. - I know.

We got to move these to a more secure location now.

(muffled thumping)

(sighs) But first, we got to deal with this.

(muffled screaming)

(crying)

If we call it in now, SWAT's at least ten minutes away.

Yup.

So we're going into a room full of trained K*llers with g*ns that have 100% k*ll rate.

Mm-hmm.

All right.

Just wanted to make sure that you were up to speed.

Ready?

(beeping)

I'm ready. Let's go.

(beeping continues)

(beeping stops)

(whispering): Hey, hey.

Yeah?

I got an idea.

You stay out here and cover the perimeter.

I'm gonna go inside. I got this. I got it.

No, no, no. I got a better idea.

I go inside, you stay out here with the perimeter.

All right, I'll see you inside.

I'll see you inside.

(watch beeping)

(whispers): Shut up!

(computer beeping)

(beeping)

All right, we need to make it look like I was ambushed before you k*ll her.

(muffled): No! No!

I'm gonna make it look like I was caught in the crossfire, so I want you to sh**t me right in this shoulder.

Are you sure you can make this sh*t?

I test g*ns for a living.

There's no one better.

(clears throat)

You okay?

Thank you!

Murtaugh: All right, it's over!

Put your weapons down!

Yeah, we're not gonna do that!

We've got more, and, well, ours are bigger.

Yeah, well, SWAT will be here any second!

Really? Because you know what I think?

I think you two morons came alone.

He's onto us, Rog!

I mean, look, the moron part, that was a little harsh, but, uh... maybe we should just surrender.

Murtaugh: Hell no!

We going out sh**ting!

Hey, to be candid, Roger, you're a terrible sh*t.

Yeah, I may not be a sn*per, but I hit what's in front of me!

Yeah. Hit what's directly in front of you, Rog.

And hey...

Huh?

Don't worry about collateral damage this time.

What, did you miss?!

It's a huge target!

I sh*t the truck!

You were supposed to hit the gas t*nk!

I didn't have an angle on the gas t*nk!

Then why didn't you say...

Oh! I can't wait for you two to shut up!

(fireworks whistling, popping)

(fireworks whistling, popping)

Oh, man.

Please, someone tell me where Riggs and Murtaugh are.

We could move our session to the men's room if that would make you feel more comfortable.

No. No. It smells much nicer in here.

Well, after reading the report, it seems your actions and Murtaugh's were justified.

Dare I say heroic.

All in a day's work, ma'am.

Suppose that depends on your job.

Must've felt good to give her and her child a future.

We could sit here and talk about crappy B-movies...

Classics.

...or we could talk about, what are your plans tonight?

Well, Doc, I mean, it's a little forward.

I mean...

I mean when you leave here.

When there's no one else around.

When you go home.

Well, I don't have a home.

Sold it the other day.

You mean back in Texas.

Mm-hmm.

Riggs, I can't fix you.

(chuckles)

There are no words in the world that can make up for what you lost.

I just want to help take away some of your pain.

Sorry, Doc.

Pain's all I got.

Murtaugh: Was I afraid for my life?

A woman's life was in danger.

What is Roger Mayfield Murtaugh supposed to do?

Now, some may call it heroic.

I don't like using such braggadocious words.

I simply call it...

Tuesday.

(laughter)

Trish: Can't wait to hear about Wednesday.

Baby?

What are you doing here?

I came to check on a client in holding.

Falsely arrested.

But since I'm here, I'd love to hear more about the exploits of Mayfield.

Aw, it was nothing, it was just, um...

Just what?

Just... Tuesday?

Tuesday, yeah.

Uh-huh.

I'm surprised you know what day it is, since you don't have your watch on.

Oh, must've fallen off.

You know, they're really flimsy...

Uh-uh. Roger.

Okay, I took it off.

I was going into a sh**t with a bunch of armed men with illegal machine g*ns with 100% k*ll rate.

And?

I handled my business.

(laughs)

You damn right you did.

All right.

You don't want to wear your watch? Fine.

So... we need to figure out a way to help that heart rate.

I'm listening.

No more ribs.

No more ribs?

No more ribs?!

(chuckles)

Baby, ribs is all I got left in this world!

I mean, besides you and-and the kids.

(chuckles)

(elevator bell dings)

Hey.

Hey.

What are you doing here?

Freeing an innocent man. Where you coming from?

Psyche evaluation.

And?

Are you crazy, Riggs?

Seems to be the consensus.

Not to me.

(elevator bell dings)

Have a good night, Trish.

You, too.

(car alarm chirps)

Martin.

No matter what I say to Roger, he's gonna follow you down any rabbit hole you go.

And that's okay.

It's what he needs as a cop and probably as a man.

But I can't imagine what I'd do if I lost him.

So I need you to promise me one thing.

At the end of every shift... make sure he comes home to me.

Yes, ma'am.

I'll do the best I can.

(chuckles)

From what I hear... that ought to do.

♪ Wonder what they say ♪

(vehicle door closes, engine starts)

♪ Hey, hey, hey, hey ♪
♪ Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa... ♪

You're a lucky man, Rog.

That I am.

Hey. You want to come over, have some barbecued halibut?

I think I'll pass.

W-Well, what about a drink?

Sure.

I know a great place.

Shh!

(whispering): Okay, wait...

No, I want that there. I want that there.

Decorating.

Yeah, okay.

Oh.

(mumbling): Oh, this is mine.

I love these.

A little bright in here, baby?

Oh.

(chuckles)

See, what-what had happened...

Shut up. No, no, no.

No?

Oh...

Put the ribs down, Roger.

Put them down.

Mind if I...? I'll just...

I got it. It's okay.

Good night, baby.

Good night, Martin.

Good night, Trish.

Good night, baby.

No, she said no.