03x12 - Meat

[bunniefuu]

Sigmund Freud may have been a cigar-chomping sexist pig with mommy issues.

[laughter]

But when it comes to his theory of the unconscious, turns out he pretty much nailed it.

The tools of modern neuroscience, functional brain imaging and EEG, support Freud's claim that consciousness is just the tip of the iceberg.

Here's an iceberg.

According to Herr Doktor Freud, the mind is divided into three levels...

The conscious, the preconscious, submerged just below the surface, representing our memories.

And the unconscious... where the id resides.

You heard me. The id. [light laughter]

The part of our personality that's primitive and instinctive, and wants what it wants, and it wants it right now.

If the id were left unchecked, we might find ourselves grabbing things out of people's hands.

Or... or acting out our kinkiest sexual fantasies in public.

[laughter]

So, how do we stop our ids from ruining our lives?

[Police radio chatter]

[Camera shutter clicking]

Agent Krueger.

Agent Moretti, thanks for coming.

I was told to brace myself.

It's not, uh... Pretty.

Walter and Janice Bosworth.

Perp cut their throats while they slept.

There's hardly any blood spatter.

Their carotids were severed.

So no spray, just a big flood.

Which the mattress absorbed like a king-sized sponge.

Next door, we've got the Bosworths' youngest.

Ben, 22.

He just graduated from Ohio State.

He planned on opening a kayaking business in Wyoming.

Same M.O.?

Yeah, the k*ller was quick, efficient.

But with the next victim, we got something a little different.

The Bosworths' son-in-law, Roy Meier, was k*lled in the hall.

Looks like he stepped out of the bedroom, took the intruder by surprise, and was stabbed in the gut.

The m*rder w*apon is over here.

No prints. It was wiped clean.

The Kn*fe came from a set in the Bosworths' kitchen.

Written in blood.

Yeah, I think... think the k*ller was trying to suggest this was an act of poetic justice.

How so?

[Sighs] let's get some air. Come on.

Walter and Janice owned J.W.B. Meats, one of the midwest's largest pork producers.

They've been getting hassled by an animal-rights group called BARN.

What's that stand for? "brutal assholes" something?

Better animal rights now.

They started out doing peaceful protests, you know, like staging petting zoos at grocery stores.

But they got themselves added to the joint t*rror1st task force watch list by sabotaging factory farms, arson, death threats.

Sounds like they're not messing around.

How'd they get into the house?

Well, we're not sure.

Uh, there's no sign of forced entry.

Their neighbor spotted a gray van cruising the area several times in the past few weeks.

Plates?

No.

Was she the one who called the cops?

No, it was the Bosworths' middle child, Connie Meier.

She was married to the dead guy in the hall.

She survived by locking herself in the bathroom and calling 911.

I guess she came out at some point, because when the cops showed up, she had the victims' blood on her.

What did she say?

Nothing. That's the problem.

I mean, she was too shell-shocked to speak. Paramedics took her to the hospital.

She has one surviving brother.

He's there with her.

I, uh... I was told you work with some kind of head doctor who's good with these sort of things?

Special Agent Moretti. This is Dr. Daniel Pierce.

Tom.

We're very sorry for your loss.

We were actually hoping to speak with your sister.

The doctor sedated her.

Did she say anything to you before they put her under?

She wouldn't talk to me.

What can you tell us about BARN?

They're lowlifes.

The reason that Connie, Roy, and Ben flew in was because my parents called a family meeting.

They were sick and tired of being terrorized.

Terrorized how?

It started when those scumbags went undercover at one of our processing facilities.

Caught some animal abuse on camera.

My parents didn't even know about it, but BARN publicly crucified them anyway.

Then they sabotaged a meat locker.

Caused $100,000 worth of damage.

They... they threw pig's blood on my brother, Ben, during his college graduation.

I think that's what convinced my parents they had to do something drastic.

Well, we're selling the business.

Walter: You're all doing very well, so instead of leaving an inheritance, which you don't really need, we figured we'd make a big contribution to a worthy charity and be done with BARN and the pork business once and for all.

We'll be making an official announcement tomorrow, but we wanted to let all of you know first.

And how did you feel about their decision?

I hated that they were knuckling under BARN's pressure, but I couldn't care less about the inheritance, if that's what you're getting at. I have all I need.

And what about your sister? Was she as blithely indifferent to losing the family fortune as you were?

No. She wasn't "blithely indifferent."

She was supportive.

She said that they were ready to retire anyway.

If selling the business would give them peace of mind, we should support that.

So you just went over there for dinner and then you left?

I live 15 minutes away. There was no reason for me to stay over.

If I had, maybe... I could've done something.

Kate: Anyone want a t-shirt?

Got to hand it to them... What they lack in subtlety, they make up for in irony.

You really think this group does everything they can to stop the butchering of farm animals and then suddenly decides to k*ll four human animals?

No offense, Dr. Pierce, but you're an expert on the brain, not terrorism.

Plenty of groups that espouse altruistic ideas resort to v*olence.

Sure, but what's more likely?

That the k*ller's the woman with motive and the victims' blood on her, or the vegans did it and left a giant arrow on the wall, pointing in their direction?

Hey, Connie Meier was severely traumatized.

No offense, Agent Krueger, but you're an expert on terrorism, not the brain.

Her trauma could stem from having k*lled her family, or it could be an act.

You think you can get her to talk?

You're new here, yeah?

Hey, listen, pal...

Daniel.

I'll let you know what she has to say.

Good.

Of course, we'll look at anyone who could've had a grudge against the Bosworths.

Meantime, JTTF will keep focusing on BARN.

Knock yourself out.

From what the neighbor said about the van, it seems like they were doing surveillance on the house.

Yeah, yeah.

We also got a lead on how they could have gotten in.

Bosworths' house cleaner called in sick a couple weeks back, had her daughter fill in.

Gave her the security code.

Turns out, the daughter "liked" BARN on Facebook.

Anyone question her yet?

We verified her alibi on the night of the murders, but, um, she wouldn't say anything about BARN.

No one involved with that group talks to outsiders.

They all live together like a... a damn cult.

Well, can you get someone on the inside, earn their trust, find some hard evidence?

We've been trying to infiltrate for months.

The problem is this woman... Reagan Harper.

She's the ringleader.

She likes to recruit people, but so far, she hasn't taken our bait.

What do you know about her?

32, highly educated, strong-willed, acutely attuned sense of justice.

What we need is someone she'll relate to.

Kate: Man, these people don't just have radical beliefs about food.

They're also anti-consumer, anti-government, and all about living off the grid.

And you're just planning on moving in with these people?

Well, first I have to gain their trust, but if I'm lucky, yeah.

Kate, we're getting married in a month.

Donnie, I'm not gonna miss our wedding.

But these freegan freaks might've k*lled four people.

You're right.

I guess we should reschedule the tasting with the caterers tomorrow.

No. No, don't put it off. Just do it without me.

You know what I like.

Just promise me you'll be safe.

Relax. I know what I'm doing. I'm a trained FBI Agent, remember?

How could I forget?

All I have to do is stick to my cover story, do whatever it takes to make friends, even if it means eating tofu, and...

Oh, that reminds me... don't forget to pick a vegetarian option for Daniel, okay?

[All chanting] Meat is m*rder! Meat is m*rder! Meat is m*rder!

Meat is m*rder! Meat is m*rder!

Do you have any idea what sort of unconscionable cruelty went into making these hot dogs?

Please leave me alone.

No, not until you learn how those meat sticks get made.

After all the pigs and chickens are forced to live miserable lives on factory floors, they are then m*rder*d.

And then their flesh is mechanically separated from their bones.

Yeah, but they don't get all the bones out.

Some of it gets ground up with all the bits that nobody wants to eat, like the snouts and the tails.

And then it all gets pureed into a sludge and stuffed into a synthetic collagen casing.

[Sirens wailing]

Hey, enjoy your wieners full of sodium nitrates and suffering, lady.

Raymond: Break it up! You had your fun for the day!

We have a right to peaceful assembly!

We can stop you, and we will, if you don't move on.

You know what? You're nothing but a pathetic, soulless pig who just likes to throw his power around. Hey!

We are running you in.

Unnecessary roughness, man.

Is everybody seeing this?!

I'm gonna need the full spelling of your name and your badge number.

The next person who blocks ingress or egress will be arrested.

You okay?

Yeah. Just... I can't believe I did that.

Reagan.

Dani.

Find me after this is over, Dani.

We'll grab a bite.

Cool.

[All chanting] Meat is m*rder! Meat is m*rder!

Welcome to the best dining spot in town.

Oh. What's good on the menu here?

Well, let's check out the daily specials.

Oh, wow. Look at this one.

Just the tiniest, little bruise.

You interested?

Looks great.

Thanks.

Did you see the look on that cop's face when you busted out the camera?

That was awesome.

How did you hear about our little shindig?

Twitter.

I follow a lot of animal-rights groups.

I also volunteer at the cat shelter, you know?

But this is my first time at a protest.

Is it always like this?

Like what?

Kind of a rush.

This was actually kind of tame compared to some of the stuff we've done.

Seriously?

Where do you live, Dani?

Oh. Kind of couch surfing since I lost my job.

Why don't you come back to my place?

Communal pad. We got a whole bunch of couches.

[Cellphone rings]

Hello?

You hear anything yet?

Daniel, relax. She knows what she's doing.

She is a trained FBI Agent, remember?

Is the federal bureau of ineptitude still tracking her burner phone?

Look, Daniel, does the caveman in me want to protect my girl?

Sure. But the more civilized side of me knows that she can take care of herself.

You... you'll let me know if she calls?

Hey, why do I get the feeling you're more worried about my fiancée than I am?

I'm paranoid schizophrenic. It's in my nature to worry.

[Thud]

I have to go.

Butcher: Ah, fresh meat.

[Sniffs]

Smells good, don't it?

No.

Olfactory hallucination or not, it smells disgusting.

Oh, there's nothing disgusting about a tender, juicy rump roast.

Are you planning on eating that or just spanking it?

I plan on enjoying it.

Well, I'm sure the cow, whose sole reason for existence was to wind up on your plate, appreciates that.

That from the guy who used to devour three Vienna Beef Chicago dogs in one sitting.

Yeah, that was before I was worried about becoming one of the 600,000 Americans who die of heart disease every year.

Who's talking about dying? I'm talking about living!

Stop suppressing your appetite!

I... how many times do I have to say it? I don't have an appetite for dead cow.

I'm not talking about food.

I'm talking about Kate.

What?

You know you want her, but you think you can't have her because you're not normal.

Wait. You... you think I couldn't be with Kate because I have schizophrenia?

No, that's what you think.

I'm saying you're not a normal, red-blooded American guy that eats steak.

Now, Donnie Ryan... That guy knows how to tear into a porterhouse.

All right, that's it.

All right, just go b*at your meat in somebody else's kitchen.

Um... Doc?

It's 2:00, and you wanted to try to interview that woman at the hospital.

Right.

[Knock on door]

Connie?

I'm Dr. Daniel Pierce.

I work with the FBI.

I spoke with your brother, Tom, earlier.

The investigators think that you're traumatized by what happened.

Well, who wouldn't be?

If you're suffering from post-traumatic stress, I can find you a therapist, get you some treatment.

Of course, some people might think you're choosing not to speak because you're hiding something.

Like what really happened at your parents' the other night.

You think I hurt my family?

I didn't say that.

But since we're talking...

Why don't you tell me what happened?

[Breathing heavily]

When I think about it...

I can't breathe.

That's an anxiety att*ck. I can help with that, too.

My memory is... foggy.

I took a sleeping pill for the jet lag...

Just take your time.

[Breathes deeply]

Roy woke me up.

Connie, I think somebody's in the house.

What?

Go in the bathroom and call 911.

Go, go.

Lock the door. Go!

Man: 911. What's your emergency?

Uh, yeah, my husband thinks there's an intruder.

What's your address, ma'am?

978 Tiehack Court.

And where are you now?

I'm locked in the bathroom. [Kn*fe plunges]

Okay, ma'am, I need you to stay where you are.

Roy: Help!

My God! I think someone is hurting him!

Ma'am, just calm down.

Somebody!

Stay where you are.

Oh, my God! Oh, my God!

But you did leave.

I had to.

I couldn't stand not knowing.

And what did you see?

[Crying] Roy...

[Gasping]

All the blood...

Okay. Just... just take... take a deep breath.

Just listen to the sound of...

Connie?

No more questions.

What are you doing?

I can help her.

Her own doctor will help her. Nurse!

That's not necessary.

You need to leave.

If you'd just give me a chance...

Get out.

This is very...

Get the hell out of here!

[Gasping, crying]

Like it?

You have to give me the recipe.

No one makes better Dandelion Wine than Jeremy.

Fire smells great, too.

We had this musician staying with us.

He recycled our coffee grounds and made them into these logs.

Said they burn 85% less carbon than traditional firewood.

I really admire how committed you are.

My dad worked for a company that made pesticides.

And... and when I was a kid, in 4th grade, I had this teacher who talked about how pesticides k*lled the birds and make the grass scream.

How does the grass scream?

I asked my dad the same question.

He said my teacher was a moron.

Mm.

Anyway, long story short...

I realized he was destroying the earth, and I didn't want to grow up and be the same way.

When I was little, my best friend lived on a farm.

And we saw all these little pigs be born.

And we raised two of them like they were dogs.

We put them on leashes, and we took them for walks, and we taught them tricks.

I think I know where this story is going.

No. No, it's... it's not like they got slaughtered or anything, but...

My friend's pig did get really sick, and she d*ed, which was super sad, of course, but what really upset me was watching my pig, Lulu, grieve.

She stopped eating.

I remember she just laid down on her sister's grave one day, and... that's when I knew that I could never eat anything that could feel emotion again.

Hey.

Hey.

Sorry.

Don't cry.

Um...

I'm actually... Uh, I kind of got somebody.

* someone doesn't have a couch?

What you mean?

I'm just trying to figure out if you're a tease or if you wearing a wire.

A wire? Where is that coming from?

You showed up to the protest today all wide-eyed and ready to set the world on fire.

And then you get all reckless with that cop who...

[Chuckles]

He never actually arrest you.

Reagan, I'm not wearing a wire.

Prove it.

Ok. Satisfied?

Not really. But I can deal.

Daniel: I think Connie's trauma is real. She's not our k*ller.

Oh, so the great Dr. Pierce is wrong.

Stop the presses.

I just had the wrong sibling.

The brother couldn't wait to shut that interview down.

He's the one we should be looking at.

No, we already checked him out.

No... no criminal record, no history of v*olence.

Plus, we've confirmed he was home during the murders.

Confirmed how?

A neighbor saw him come home that night.

Plus, we tracked his cellphone from the time of the dinner to the time of the murders.

His story holds up.

He went home, went to sleep, found out what happened in the morning.

Just because his cellphone didn't leave the house doesn't mean he didn't.

Look, it can't be a coincidence that the Bosworths were slaughtered hours after telling their kids they'd been disinherited.

I... I need to speak to that brother again.

Thanks for the input, Dr. Pierce, but we'll take it from here, okay?

[Doorbell rings]

You've got a lot of nerve...

I just wanted to apologize.

For accusing my sister of k*lling our family? No, thanks.

I know that seemed extreme, but the longer your sister went without talking about what happened, the more detrimental it would be to her mental health.

I was trying to provoke a reaction, and it worked.

Look, I just... I want to make sure that you both get the help that you need.

Come in.

Oh, thank you.

That's quite a collection.

My dad took me to a reenactment of the Battle of Gettysburg when I was 10. Been a Civil w*r Buff ever since. Have a seat.

You look tired. Are you getting enough sleep?

No matter how much sleep I get, I wake up feeling tired. Been that way my whole life. Just worse now.

I don't usually do this, but I could prescribe something.

Thanks, but I got something already.

How's Connie?

She's getting released from the hospital today.

She'll stay with me while we sort out the funeral arrangements.

Well, it's a good thing she's got you. You, uh, always protective?

[Chuckles lightly]

I'm the oldest.

I always looked out for the other two.

Obviously, I've failed horribly.

Thank God for Roy.

What do you mean?

Well, if it hadn't been for him waking Connie up and telling her to go into the bathroom and lock the door, she probably would've been k*lled, too.

To be perfectly honest with you, I'm feeling pretty guilty about Roy.

Why is that?

I never liked him.

When my parents told us they were selling the business and donating the money, I was pretty sure he was pissed about losing the inheritance.

Walter: Instead of leaving an inheritance, which you don't really need, we figured we'd make a big donation to a worthy charity.

Did he say something?

No. Just a vibe I got.

Now he's dead.

So, uh, what are you and Connie gonna do about the business?

Haven't talked about it yet.

You think you'll ultimately sell and donate the money the way your parents wanted?

Why are you asking?

Oh, just curious, you know?

I... I know you didn't agree with their decision before they d*ed.

I wondered if you'd handle things differently.

Christ. You didn't come here to apologize at all, did you?

First you're accusing my sister. Now you're accusing me.

Raymond: What the hell were you thinking?

You're not authorized to conduct your own interrogation.

I went there as a concerned doctor.

You think you're smarter than everyone, don't you?

Well, not everyone.

[Cellphone rings ] That's Moretti.

Hold on. We're not done here.

Hello?

Something's going down.

Is she all right?

What's... what's happening?

I'm not sure, but I'm watching about seven of them load into a gray Ford van.

It's got to be the one that the neighbor spotted.

Any idea what they're up to?

No, but I can give you a plate. Got a pen?

Sure. Go ahead. sh**t.

Okay, 7-4-Bravo...

[Knock on door] I got to go.

Uh, just a minute!

[Toilet flushes]

I need your cellphone.

Why?

We can't take any chances with the NSA tracking us.

Um...

Well, if you're not cool doing this, it's okay. I get it.

There's no pressure. I just thought you were looking for some excitement.

I am.

You're gonna need this.

What for?

You'll see.

[Engine shuts off]

So, what are we doing?

Reagan: These chicken strips are headed to 15 fast-food restaurants in the region.

They get put on top of salads and stuffed into wraps.

By tomorrow evening, there's gonna be nationwide news coverage on how people got sick from eating chicken contaminated with arsenic.

Um, what's the point of that?

Chickens are the most widely abused animals on the planet.

More than 7 billion are k*lled every year in this country alone.

On big egg farms, when male chicks are born, they're either suffocated or ground up alive.

That's messed up.

Until recently, farmers were allowed to put arsenic in their feed to reduce infections.

But it also makes the birds' flesh an appetizing shade of pink.

The poultry industry claims they're not doing it anymore, but we don't believe them.

So when people eat this...

They'll get sick.

We'll stir the pot with a social-media campaign.

And there'll be a giant recall, and if we're lucky, people will stop eating chicken.

Hey, Reagan, check this out.

Hey.

Hey, um, Reagan says she needs your help.

All right.

I-it's okay. I'll keep watch.

Reagan: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Dani!

What the hell?

Dani, what are you doing?!

My name isn't Dani.

It's Special Agent Kate Moretti, and you're all under arrest.

You've got to be kidding me!

[All shouting indistinctly]

I have been craving one of these for days.

So everything about you was complete bullshit.

Just doing my job.

Really?

Mm-hmm.

They teach you how to kiss like that in FBI school?

Okay. No more games, Reagan, okay?

I've already got you on felony destruction of property, conspiracy to commit domestic terrorism, and conspiracy to commit m*rder.

m*rder?

Wow. Making stuff up really is your specialty.

Well, I didn't imagine 200 pounds of chicken strips getting marinated in arsenic.

Hang on. We never meant to k*ll anyone.

There was just enough arsenic to give people stomachaches.

Our goal is to save lives, not take them.

Then how do you justify murdering the Bosworths?

You think we did that?

Come on, Reagan. You were harassing that family for months.

Honestly, "Dani", I'm not sorry there are four fewer animal torturers out there, but that doesn't mean we k*lled them.

Then why did you get their security code from the housekeeper's daughter?

We know that you were there. One of the Bosworths' neighbors spotted your van in the vicinity.

Okay. Fine.

We were there.

But it wasn't to hurt them.

Their youngest kid posted on Facebook how he was gonna hang with the whole family that weekend.

So we thought it was a perfect time to send them another message.

Our plan was to hook their sprinkler system up to a few tanks of de-coagulated pigs' blood.

And when the sprinklers went on in the morning... whoosh!

The front lawn would be soaked in the same blood that pours across the floors of their slaughterhouse every day.

I was punching in the code when...

Suddenly this car pulls out.

He must have seen me, so I jumped in the van, and we took off.

Next thing I know, it's all over the news how half the family had been m*rder*d.

Can you describe the driver?

It was dark.

And his lights were in my eyes.

But I can try.

Kate: So, basically, we're looking for someone with a mouth, a nose, and possibly two eyes.

So, the great Agent Krueger has no idea who this is?

Of course not. Who could get an I.D. from a picture like that?

Me.

You were wearing this cap when you committed the murders.

We have a witness who saw you.

Your witness couldn't have seen me. [Scoffs]

I never went back to my parents' house that night.

I was asleep.

This is insane.

Found this in the garage.

I'm guessing the g*n's about 150 years older than the blood.

Tom?

Kate: You gutted your brother-in-law with the bayonet.

Now, what I don't understand is why you then took it home with you and then you left the Kn*fe that you used to k*ll the others with stuck in the wall?

Robyn: He's being set up.

BARN obviously planted the blood on the bayonet.

Don't you think if he'd k*lled them, he'd have gotten rid of the evidence?

Yeah, a good butcher always cleans his knives.

I mean, what kind of guy slaughters his whole family in his sleep and then doesn't bother to wash the blood off the m*rder w*apon?

Slaughters his family in their sleep.

You said in his sleep.

Freudian slip.

Didn't you say you were taking sleep medication?

Who the hell are you?

Dr. Pierce is one of our consultants.

What was the name of the medication?

I don't know. I-I got a few pills from my sister.

What's that got to do with anything?

Time-out. I'd like a minute alone with my client.

Did you have a nightmare the night of the murders?

How did you know that?

Educated guess. What was the dream?

You don't have to answer that.

I was in a field.

And it was really foggy.

[Pig squealing, snorting]

[Squealing, snorting continue]

My parents were on the ground.

It was terrible.

And my Springfield r*fle was there.

And it was... it was so hard to see.

Ben was dead, too.

And then Roy came out of nowhere.

Unh!

[Squealing continues]

Oh, my God.

I think I k*lled my family.

Oh, my God.

Tom's been a sleepwalker since we were kids.

One Christmas, he went downstairs in the middle of the night and unwrapped all the presents, but the next morning, he didn't remember doing it.

And another time, when he was 16, he took dad's truck out for a joyride.

We wouldn't have even known, except a month later, we got a speeding ticket in the mail.

Thank you, Connie.

Give me a minute alone with Mr. Ryan.

[Door opens, closes]

Obviously, Tom committed these crimes while he was asleep.

We're arguing an automatism defense.

Good luck with that.

Oh, we don't need luck.

Juries consistently side with the defendant in these cases.

In quadruple homicides?

There's no actus reus here.

Tom's actions weren't controlled by his conscious mind.

You can't possibly expect a jury to believe he drove 10 miles, punched in a security code, slaughtered four people, then drove himself home, all while he was asleep.

Other exonerated sleepwalkers have engaged in elaborate and violent behavior.

Come on! He wrote "Meat is m*rder" on the wall in blood.

Obviously, he was trying to frame BARN.

That is conscious, intentional behavior.

You're sticking your neck out, Ryan.

You take this to trial, you'll lose.

I don't think so.

Even if Tom is a sleepwalker, you can't prove he was sleepwalking during the crime.

I don't have to.

You have to prove that he wasn't.

But even your own government expert thinks that he was.

Donnie: Nice work, Daniel.

You handed a quadruple m*rder*r a cockamamie defense that, unfortunately, just might work.

It's not cockamamie.

Homicidal somnambulism is a well-documented phenomenon.

It's a bullshit excuse to get away with m*rder.

Not if Tom has REM Behavioral Disorder.

If he does, it means that his brain fails to release the chemicals that normally paralyze our muscles when we dream, so he acts out his dreams without even being conscious of it.

On top of that, the sleep aid that his sister gave him could have exacerbated his condition.

Donnie, if Daniel's right, do you really want to try to put Tom away for the rest of his life for something that he might not have meant to do?

[Sighs]

I need proof it's true.

He's been sleep-deprived for the past 25 hours to increase the likelihood that he'll experience a sleepwalking episode.

We'll use video-polysomnography to measure his brain waves and monitor his REM sleep.

[Yawning] I can barely keep my eyes open.

You're doing better than Sleeping Beauty over there.

[Both chuckle]

So, if Tom did k*ll his parents in his sleep, you think it's because he had some secret desire to off them?

Freud said all dreams are attempts by the unconscious to resolve repressed conflicts, even daydreams and hallucinations...

Butcher: Well, that explains what I'm doing here.

She's a repressed conflict if I've ever seen one.

Come on, pal. Resolve it.

[Clears throat]

So, uh, how... how did it go undercover?

Well, uh, I got rowdy with some cops, I ate some food out of a dumpster...

I jumped in a van full of t*rrorists who had box cutters, even though I didn't know where we were going, I arrested nine people without backup, and, uh...

I made out with a woman.

Oh, sounds juicy. Ask her for details.

I am not asking for details.

It's okay, Daniel. I'm not embarrassed.

Happy to talk about it if you want.

No! No, no, it's... It's none of my business if you're into women or...

I'm not into women.

Bummer.

I was just playing a role.

But I have to admit, it was pretty exciting being someone else for a couple days.

Being Kate Moretti isn't exciting enough?

No, it... it is. I have a great career.

I'm about to marry a great guy.

Right, right. Right.

But I always used to be the person who was always stepping outside the circle, you know?

And now I just feel like... the circle is...

A little small.

What about you?

You ever just think about just doing something different?

Well, lately, uh, I-I've been... thinking about...

Go on, pal. Take a bite.

Thinking about...?

Maybe...

S-s-starting to eat red meat again.

That's great!

That's great.

Yeah.

Yeah.

I could finally take you to the Billy Goat for a hamburger.

If that's not an invitation, I don't know what is.

That's not an invitation.

Okay. You know what, Daniel? Forget it.

No, no, no...

Tom: Breckinridge!

You bastard!

[Monitor beeping]

Look what you did to them.

[Grunting]

All right, easy, easy. Tom, easy. Easy.

Oh, God!

Where am I?

It's all right, Tom. You're in the sleep lab now.

Was I doing it?

Sleepwalking?

Yes.

Do you remember your dream?

I was, uh...

I was standing on my... On my parents' front lawn.

And then, uh...

There were graves... fresh ones.

And then I heard a pig snorting behind me.

But when I turned around, it was Breckinridge, standing there with a... with a bloody Kn*fe in his hands.

We fought, and I stabbed him.

Breckinridge?

General Breckinridge.

Kentucky Senator during the Civil w*r.

He was denounced as a traitor and a Confederate sympathizer.

I have no idea why I was dreaming about him.

Tom, how many graves did you see in your dream?

Three.

We got it all wrong. Tom didn't k*ll his family.

Then who did?

The traitor.

Kate: Okay, Daniel, you've kept me in suspense long enough.

Tell me your theory of what happened. Start at the beginning.

Okay, okay. So, the night of the murders, the Bosworths sit down with their family at the dining table.

They tell their kids they're selling the business.

Tom's upset, so he goes home, takes a sleeping pill, goes to bed.

The rest of the family goes to sleep here in the house.

With you so far.

Okay.

So then the k*ller, while they're sleeping, the k*ller goes into the kitchen, takes one of the knives...

Makes his way through the house, into the parents' room.

After he m*rder*d them...

He goes across the hall, he takes care of the younger one, Ben.

The only thing left to do is frame BARN for the murders...

-

-

And get rid of the evidence.

Okay. But what's new here? I mean, this is Tom we're talking about, right?

No. Tom didn't arrive at the house until after his parents and his brother were already dead.

He had a bad feeling after that dinner, right?

So he goes home. He has a nightmare. He starts sleepwalking.

He puts on his Civil w*r cap. He... he grabs his r*fle.

He saw himself as their protector.

He drove here because, on a subliminal level, he knew they weren't safe.

But by the time he got here, he was too late.

Now, in his dream, he saw his parents lying dead in a foggy field, but that was really just his conscious mind conflating what he saw in reality and transposing it to his dreamscape.

Okay. But if Tom didn't k*ll his family, then who did?

I told you... the traitor.

Which was who, exactly?

The one that wanted the inheritance all along.

His brother-in-law, Roy.

Unh!

Help! Somebody!

So how do we prove it?

We ordered a bloodstain-pattern analysis.

Turns out there was arterial spray across Roy's shirt.

It was Walter's blood.

My... my husband k*lled my family?

If Roy hadn't run into you in the hall, we believe he would've gone outside, broken a window, and told everyone he fought off the intruder.

Am I going to jail?

Plead to involuntary manslaughter, agree to get treatment for your sleep disorder, and I will recommend you get a suspended sentence.

Can't sleep?

I just can't believe the wedding's so soon.

How was the tasting, by the way?

Eh, not nearly as exciting as yours, apparently.

I got to admit, hum... tofu was kind of interesting.

Really?

What was it like?

It was... soft.

It was smooth.

You thinking about mixing up your diet, are you?

[Chuckles]

I'm pretty happy with what's on the regular menu.

Daniel: Each of us thinks that we're at the center of our own little universe.

But the conscious mind is... is like a planet on the edge of a distant galaxy, far away from where all the cool stuff is happening.

Just as stars are pulled by the gravity of objects yet to be discovered, so are we influenced by unconscious feelings and desires that drift just beyond our ability to perceive them.

Now, occasionally, in our dreams, we act on these impulses...

Which is probably safer than doing it in the real world...

But when powerful desires do enter our orbit, could be tough to ignore them.

The question is, should we always force these primal urges back into the darkness from whence they came?

Or is it sometimes...

Okay to be bad?