03x10 - This Is the Pits

[bunniefuu]

Walter: Previously on Scorpion...

I am running for the 16th district Alderman of West Altadenia in the local upcoming election.

I'm your campaign manager, now.

What? Why?

'Cause I care about you, kid.

You look beautiful.

Well, thank you.

I am excited to meet your parents.

You should've taken my mom dancing when you had the chance.

We could have been partners forever.

Paige, just hear me out.

How does Ms. Franklin know your name?

Her last name is not Franklin, it's Dineen.

My mother is a con woman.

A first-degree grifter.

Would you like to meet your grandson?

I'd like that very much.

It's a true pleasure.

I want what's best for my daughter.

And from what I can tell, that's you.

I'm gonna help you get her back.

(car horns honk in distance)

Mike: Those videos of people leaning so hard into the wind that they're nearly horizontal?

That was me today.

I'm so glad to be out of Chicago and back in L.A.

I missed you so much.

I can't wait to get home.

So, you want to get crazy tonight?

Order pizza, do nothing?

(warning beeps)

(gasps)

(screaming)

Mike: Beth?

Beth, are you okay?

Michael, I just crashed.

I can't get out of the car!

Just stay calm, I'll get help!

(screaming): Help!

Help!

(bubbling)

Paige: Just wait for it.

Wait for it.

And the Swamp Lord is back!

Bet you thought that air strike took him out.

Actually, I fully expected him to survive the air strike.

How do you not love the Swamp Lord?

It was my favorite growing up.

I can't believe you found it.

Me either.

It's funny how movie night happened to fall on the one night Tim's coming home late from San Diego.

Ralph: Sure hope they get him with that atom blaster.

Which they won't, because there's no such thing.

Come on.

Swamp Lord just wants to be loved.

Spoiler alert.

What? Chocolate-covered peanuts for your popcorn? Oh, my God.

That's how I always eat my movie popcorn. Yes!

Give me.

Thanks.

I smell a rat.

A ripe, raw rat.

He's up to something.

Hey.

Mm-hmm?

What's with the cheeseball movie?

What?

The plot is an interesting mélange of Cold w*r themes.

And the action isn't half bad.

Balderdash.

What?

I'm trying to see if turn of the century exclamations can make a comeback.

It's a small linguistics experiment I'm doing.

Anyway, hey, you don't even like movies.

Yes, I do.

Hooey.

You've seen two.

Revenge of the Nerds, which you said wasn't vengeful enough...

Mm-hmm.

...and Real Genius, which you said... wasn't.

Correct.

And now you're into obscure horror knockoffs which happen to be Paige's favorite?

I'm expanding my film repertoire.

I know poppycock when I hear it.

You're trying to win Paige.

(door opens)

And I'm certain she's involved.

(chuckles)

(clapping)

Yay.

Isn't that great?

He gets the girl in the end.

Implausibly.

Help me put the couch back.

Thank God for that movie.

It was practically your babysitter every day after school.

Nice to be reminded how latchkey I was.

Um, you all settled into the camper?

Yeah, it's great.

Better than a motel.

Cheaper, too.

And we're clear that, um, this is...

Temporary.

Absolutely.

One week.

Okay.

Honey, I love your hair like this.

Thanks. Thanks, Mom.

The movie idea was excellent.

Salty/sweet worked like a charm.

Good, good. Because she deserves a man like you.

Oh.

Intellectual.

Kindhearted.

This is gonna work out great.

You seem to enjoy this process.

You guys all have your gifts.

I have one, too.

Con woman.

Persuader.

Yeah.

But I'm not used to using my gifts for good.

I kind of like it.

You know what else Paige likes?

The smell of rosemary.

There was a bush under her window during the good years.

It'll bring back positive childhood memories.

Excellent.

Oh, and when she was in middle school, she was really into grunge.

Mm, that's odd for someone so hygienic.

No. The music?

Think flannel.

I will.

I'll be right back.

I have to... Google something.

Huh.

Forestry Brave Cookies?

If I sell 50 boxes, I get my business badge.

And how much do the Braves charge you for these?

Buy 'em for five dollars, sell 'em for five dollars.

What kind of business are they teaching you?

Remember when you used to write Grandma in prison about how you wanted to spend some quality time together?

Shh. Shh.

(whispering): I know. Our secret.

But how about we use that time for Grandma to help you earn that business badge?

Mom won't go for it.

(phone ringing)

She thinks you're a degenerate.

We'll keep our eyes peeled for the opportunity. It knocks, we answer.

Hello. Scorpion.

Toby: Hey, we sh**ting a campaign ad or what?

How much did you raise?

$42.

Of the $2,000 we need.

Total bust.

Sylvester: We just chose the wrong enticement.

“We” meaning “you.”

You said you had a handle on what we should sell at our social.

But-- shocker-- who knew no one wants cayenne and cumin ice cream from Spoon & Grain, whoever the hell they are?

Lesson one: know your market.

Sylvester: I read that this ice cream was hip.

Hip has no place in ice cream.

Ice cream is chocolate, vanilla and strawberry. Period.

Just let us give you the money.

No. If I can't raise $2,000, I have no business being alderman of West Altadenia.

Guys, a woman is trapped in her car at the bottom of the La Brea Tar Pits.

We're moving out right now.

Happy: Whoa.

Exceptionally not good.

Where's the LAPD dive team?

Those guys are masters at this stuff.

Searching for evidence on a double homicide-- a g*n dumped in San Pedro harbor.

No divers within an hour of the pits, the woman is struggling for oxygen.

Fire and rescue are stumped.

They need us.

Honey, I know you have to work, so I can watch Ralph.

All right. Uh... okay, be good.

Both of you. Walter!

Yeah, I hear you!

I'm coming!

Toby: Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Alice in Chains!

What's with Walter in flannel?

Happy: I gave you those to use as rags in the lab.

Why are you wearing them?

I always wear flannel.

I love fl-flannel.

I smell more rat.

Her name is Beth Reid.

She's conscious, unharmed.

She's been in there for 30 minutes.

Have you had any communication?

She's 30 feet down, but her phone still works.

We can video chat with her from the command station.

I'll be in there.

Oh, what size car, and how bad is the leaking?

Small sedan. There's seepage around the windows.

She must be getting dizzy as hell from the fumes coming off the tar.

She mentioned that, too.

She needs to seal off the windows and the AC vents.

Based on heightened breathing and the volume of the interior of her car, we've got a 40-minute window before she runs out of oxygen.

What happened here?

Is that a car bumper?

We fixed a thermal scanner to the crane arm to pinpoint the location of the car.

Managed to get a hook into the rear bumper.

The front end of the vehicle is wedged into a bed of tar.

Thought we could tow it out.

You can't play tug of w*r with the Earth. The pits are made of high viscosity asphalt.

There's a reason the mastodons couldn't fight their way out.

Captain, I know you're trying, but dropping a 60-pound hook...

(phone chimes)

...into that muck might puncture a hole in the car and drown her.

Tim's here.

I'll fill him in.

I'm gonna go check on Toby.

We need to rock the car out slowly. We'll send the cable down, wrap it around the frame and slowly wiggle it.

But we need someone down there to affix the cable.

I know the LAPD divers are indisposed, but did they offer up any suggestions?

Yeah. For no one to try this.

There's never been a dive into tar before.

It's hot as hell, eventually, the toxins will disintegrate any protective gear you're wearing.

You could get stuck and never come back up.

So, in short, diving's not an option.

Gentry: Not for anybody on my team.

It's too dangerous.

Paige: Happy says they won't send a robot sub in to get better data.

Because?

The bubbles are methane and the electrical currents that power the remote control servers on the sub could cause an expl*si*n.

Got it.

Wai-Wait. Tim?

Are you... are you all right?

What happened in San Diego?

I failed my physical.

The MRI showed that the shrapnel has moved closer to my spine, and, uh...

I'm out of the SEALs, and I am out of the Navy, effective immediately.

Honorable discharge.

Tim...

Look, we have a woman to save.

My back is the least of my worries right now, so...

Okay. You're right.

Okay, but I'm...

I'm so sorry.

You're doing great, Beth.

Staying calm.

Keep looking for something to plug the window joints and AC vents.

(rumbling and creaking, Beth gasps)

Is the car moving?

Am I sinking?

Sylvester: No. It's just settling a little. You're okay.

Remember-- short breaths.

Conserve oxygen.

Everything's gonna be hunky-dory.

Not if she doesn't stop those leaks.

I found something.

Athletic tape for my shoulder.

Perfect! Use it to seal all of the windows and any other access points.

Toby: We're gonna get you out of there, Beth.

(quietly): Any idea how?

In 35 minutes, she runs out of oxygen.

Sly, can't you send down an air hose? Feed it into the car?

No. Even if we could, it would need to be pressurized and pressurized air in the car would blow out the windows and she'd drown.

Scratch the air hose.

Walter: Happy, can you build something onto the crane arm that would wrap the cable around the car?

In six hours.

Don't have it.

What are the odds of building an effective immersion suit within the next ten minutes?

Immersion suit? Why would we need an immersion suit?

Happy: If I can raid that fire truck and a dive shop, I can whip something up, but it won't last long down there.

Going down there is too dangerous.

I'll do it, I'll go.

No, you weigh 30 pounds more than I do.

The odds are slightly better of someone lighter being able to disengage if they get stuck.

Tim: Then I'll do it.

I've got underwater mission experience.

Tim, your back.

Is fine.

Fine enough to risk twisting wrong in that tar and winding up paralyzed?

(screams)

Please hurry, I can barely breathe in here.

Okay, Sly hacked her fitness tracker, and the car isn't the only thing that's unstable: so are her vitals.

We need a solution.

That's it, I'm gonna go.

Now, Happy, you can direct me where to fasten the cabling for the car?

Walter, you go down there, your odds of survival are less than .01%.

It's me, or she dies.

♪ Scorpion 3x10 ♪
This Is the Pits
Original Air Date on December 12, 2016

I want everything on the truck off the truck.

I need to see the resources we're working with.

Beth? Beth?

Okay, you need to tell me everything you have in the car.

I need to see what resources we're working with.

Beth, this is Walter O'Brien.

He's gonna come down there and help get you out.

The fire chief said no one could do that.

Walter can. He's going to get to you, wrap a cable around the car so it can be rocked free from the tar.

Okay. Mr. O'Brien, have you done this before?

No.

But you know what you're doing?

Walter: I know science.

Okay, tell me what's in the car, we don't have time to waste.

Sun block, deodorant...

And I have a road flare in my glove box.

Toby: Whoa, careful!

You light that, you could blow yourself up just from the fumes in the car.

Okay.

Gentlemen, this is Michael, Beth's husband.

Michael!

God, Beth!

Michael, I'm scared.

It's okay to be scared.

But just remember, we have a plan.

It's a solid plan.

Okay.

Walter, we need you.

Three blocks away, there's a dive shop.

We might be able to cobble together something for you to wear in the tar.

“Cobble together”?

That doesn't sound like a very solid plan to me.

Believe me, we've been to space and back with less preparation.

Michael, stay with me.

I'm right here with you, Beth.

This is it.

This is where our market lives and breathes, okay?

Lumberjack moustaches, rolled-up jeans...

My mom calls these people hipster doofuses.

Yep, and they're gonna love what we're selling.

Here, put this apron on.

It's cute.

“Artisan organic Peruvian ice cream sandwiches made to order.”

I don't see where Peru factors in.

It factors in the bottom line.

A little fairy dust to magically increase our cash by twelvefold.

“Duodecuple” our cash.

That's the term.

Right. Okay, so... one box of 24 cookies sells for $5.

Turn it into 12 exotic ice cream sandwiches at five bones apiece, and suddenly this box is worth $60.

Percentage of profit, maestro?

1,200%.

But who would want to buy overpriced miniature ice creams of questionable origin?

People want to feel special.

Especially these nudniks.

So we let them believe that they're getting something special.

It makes them happy.

We should be charging more, actually.

Look alive.

Customers. Hi.

Gloves, anti-fog spray, dive boots.

Any luck with a wet suit?

No, I'm looking for dry suits.

The tar would eat through the neoprene wet suit and burn my skin-- this one!

I got everything but the diving helmet.

None in the store.

I hoped we'd be lucky, but this is a recreational dive shop.

Guys, find something we can use as a helmet.

A five-gallon water bottle would fit, but I have to assume that the tar would dissolve the plastic.

You assume correctly.

What about a giant fishbowl?

Glass won't disintegrate, right?

Fishbowl glass is too delicate.

It'd cr*ck under pressure from being down so deep.

I know this sounds crazy, but what about these lighting sconces?

Brass borders between glass panes.

Glass looks pretty thick, Happy.

What do you think?

Happy: I modified a scuba regulator so there'll be intake and outflow.

You should be able to breathe, and you should not fog up.

Walter, do you see me?

Yes.

(exhaling sharply)

Do you see me giving you a big fat smoochy smooch?

Horrifying.

This'll help you avoid claustrophobia, and at times it's gonna be the only thing you can see.

Uh, visibility's gonna be limited.

Hand soap.

Gallons of hand soap.

It's time to grease you up!

I got your tow truck.

Cabe: Tim, let's go rig it for Walter.

I ran the idea of this getup past the LAPD dive commander.

He thinks you're crazy.

He's not even sure this suit will hold.

The hydroxide anions in the soap can counteract the molar strength of tar acid for up to 32 minutes before corrosion sets in.

That's ten minutes longer than Beth has air, so it should be fine.

Better be.

Happy: All soaped up.

Time to dive.

I'll get the crane down to you.

We have a crane operator on site.

Can he calculate the drop zone coordinates to a hundredth of a centimeter?

Uh...

That's what I thought.

Get him out of my rig.

Hey, next movie night-- sci-fi or horror?

Sci-fi.

Good. So I'll see you then, right?

Walter: Breathing apparatus is working fine.

At least on land, anyway.

Beth, he's walking in now.

Please let him know I think he's very brave for doing this.

You can tell him yourself when you get out of that muck.

(faintly): Okay.

I have clear entry.

In you go, buddy.

And for the record, this is very impressive.

Headed down.

It's thick. It's a much slower descent than water.

Okay, Walter, I've got you spotted.

You're going to hit the tar bed in seconds. When you do, turn four degrees to your left, and the car will be 15 paces from you.

(groans)

That's one step.

The tar is very hard to navigate.

Hey. How's he doing?

He's moving very slowly.

Toby: Walt, why don't you, uh, think slippery thoughts?

Eels. Richard Nixon.

Walter: When I go under a tar layer, it's almost pitch black.

Does Beth have a flashlight in her car?

I have one in my glove box.

Have her aim it out of the driver's window.

I see her.

I'm close.

Oh, I see him! Thank God.

Hi. I'm Walter.

We met earlier.

Toby: Yeah, Walt, make sure you introduce yourself in case someone else is passing through the tar pits.

O'Brien, get to work.

Hook goes on the front axle, then bring the cable over the hood, back underneath under the drive train.

I'll be right back.

Okay.

Mike: Beth, listen to me.

I know this'll work, but I'll need you to hear me.

Okay? Thank you.

Thank you for taking a chance on me.

I've never been good enough for you, but...

(crying): Michael...

...but you still...

I love you.

I just want to go home.

Toby: Beth, you will get to go home, but right now you can't get too worked up.

Uh, Toby's right.

You just have to regulate your breathing, okay?

So just breathe in with me.

Take a deep breath.

(breathing deeply)

I know you have a lot you want to say, but she needs to conserve oxygen right now, and crying doesn't help that.

I know, I'm sorry, it's just, before I met her...

I wasn't a great guy.

No direction.

I... I was a wreck.

I understand.

I know what it's like to find that one special woman.

No, more than special.

Before I met Beth, I was a dog.

Bouncing around three different women at the same time.

I was a bad guy.

But she saw through my insecurities.

She gave me a chance to be the man that she knew that I could be.

But you know what it's like.

She was in love over this nonsense playboy life.

Yeah. I sure do.

For certain.

No, they don't.

Walter: It's fastened.

Happy, start rocking the car.

Okay, Beth, get ready for some movement.

Okay.

(mechanical whirring)

It's pulling the car.

Toby: Side to side, that's right.

Walter: It's coming loose.

(scraping, creaking)

What's happening?

Happy, stop.

(creaking)

Walter, what's the problem?

Metal tearing.

I can't see where.

Beth: It's coming in!

Lots of it.

The fence pole must have speared the car when she crashed.

Rocking it tore a hole in the frame.

So we can't move it anymore?

Now the car is leaking.

Walter: I can take care of it for the moment.

Sylvester: Walter, if you take off your gloves, the tar is going to burn your hand.

Yes. Only moderately so far.

Happy: That will get worse... quickly.

So if we can't move the car, what's the plan?

Flood the vehicle, and then pull back to the surface on the crane cable.

Oh.

Once she's exposed to the tar, she only has 20 seconds to get to the surface.

Any longer, she's looking at third-degree burns on over 90% of her body.

That's almost certain death.

Mike: No!

She's safe in the car-- leave her there until you figure something else out.

Walter: Guys, there is nothing else to figure out.

The car cannot be raised to the surface.

Beth will have to go through the tar.

Happy: In less than 20 seconds-- this ain't gonna be easy.

We can prepare a bath of diesel fuel to quickly get the tar off her body once she hits the surface.

Guys, this sounds very dicey.

(creaking over speaker)

So does that.

Beth!

I'm falling!

Beth?

Beth!

Beth!

Her airbag knocked her out.

I can't pull her out unconscious.

She'll aspirate tar and die.

Guys, this plan just got considerably more dicey.

That's a real-life Swamp Lord.

(grunts)

Come on.

(grunting)

(gasps and coughs)

Beth's condition?

Uh, she's breathing and her vitals are okay for now.

Oh, God, Walter-- your hand.

Toby: Man, that's like a caramel apple, except your hand's the apple, the tar's the caramel, and no one finds this delicious.

She has less than ten minutes until she runs out of air.

If we can't move the car, or bring her up unconscious, then what do we do?

We wake her up.

Just don't ask me how.

Smelling salts.

Don't you have to wave those under a person's nose?

We could deliver an eye opener through the hole in the car that Walter plugged with his glove.

We can hook another cable to the crane; once she's attached, I can lift both of you out in a few seconds.

(groans)

Tim: I'll start rigging the new line.

We can use an atomizer to pump the salts through the hole, and then disperse it through the vehicle.

I can handle the atomizer.

We need a syringe and a tube.

On it.

What do you use for smelling salts?

Well, it would have to be a potent combination to wake her.

Something truly noxious.

I know where to get that.

I'll be back.

Here you go.

Cayenne, cumin, Himalayan sea salt, and every other spice I got on my rig.

Now, at $3.00 a pinch-topping, that's $750.

I don't think so.

On behalf of the U.S. government, I'm commandeering your truck and all the spices on it.

Hey. You can't do that.

I'm gonna have to shut down.

Trust me, I'm doing you all a favor.

Doesn't matter, people.

Looks like there's a small Peruvian boy selling organic ice cream on the corner of 1st and Flower.

Viva Peru!

Next.

Uh, lavender goat cheese ice cream on cinnamon cookies.

That is a fantastic choice.

Very original.

Isn't this great?

Grandma and Ralph's big adventure.

Is that something you and my mom would have?

Big adventures?

Oh, yeah, we did all sorts of things.

Like what?

We had lots of great times.

We were real pals.

So how come you guys haven't spoken in so long?

I asked you that in one of my letters to you in prison.

Shh. Not so loud, honey.

But you never answered my question.

It's complicated, and we have customers, okay?

I can't wait to tell Mom about how much money we made.

About that...

I don't think we need to share all the details with her.

I think it's best to frame it for her, you know?

Show it in its best light.

By omitting facts?

By framing them.

We sold cookies.

That's what's relevant.

How we did it is less important.

Okay...

Good boy.

Keep scooping.

(coughing)

(both gagging, coughing)

Try not to lose this one.

This one's for you, and this one's for Beth.

All right.

Cable's good to go.

And this will be ready to roll when you emerge.

Mix of diesel fuel and solvent to dissolve the hydrocarbons and heterocyclic compounds in the tar on Beth's skin.

You're starting to sound a lot like them.

Thank you.

So...

This one's, uh, a lot scarier than the movie, huh?

Sylvester: You need to protect the atomizer.

Its polypropylene polymers will not last long in the tar.

Ready.

Cabe: Okay. There you go.

He's gonna have to move fast once he gets down there.

Beth's out of oxygen in roughly three minutes.

♪ ♪

He's at the car.

♪ ♪

Walter: Tube's in.

Hitting the plunger.

Come on. Wake up, please.

(gasps)

It worked!

That's all those toppings are good for.

What's happening?

(gasping)

Walter: Beth. Don't worry.

We have an idea for getting you out of here.

Okay.

But it all depends on how long you can hold your breath.

What are you talking about?

Why do I have to hold my breath?

Lack of better options.

Walter: I'm pulling you out of the car.

You'll be on land in 20 seconds, but we need your help.

Cabe: Beth, put on your backpack, connect your chest strap.

Walter's gonna use that to connect to the cable.

And use the athletic tape to wrap your whole head.

Cover your eyes, ears, nose, mouth.

It's gonna be very claustrophobic.

You won't be able to breathe, but it won't be for long.

This will stop the caustic acid in the tar from entering your body.

Okay.

Toby: And use the sunscreen to cover all exposed skin.

It'll help fight the viscoelasticity in the tar.

(gasping)

You can do this; it'll be over before you know it.

She has no other options; in 90 seconds she runs out of air.

Beth, do it now.

(sighing)

Paige: Beth, take a deep breath, burn away from the window. and in few seconds it'll all be over.

(crying): Mike, I love you.

I love you, too.

(crying)

(inhales)

Go, Walter, now!

Lay down, as far as you can go, Beth.

Walter (muffled): Come on, move!

Move!

Walter: She's on the line, pull us up.

(Walter screaming)

Happy, stop. Stop now.

What's going on?

(Beth whimpers)

Come on, pull her up right now!

Walter, Walter. You all right?

Walter: No.

My feet are stuck in the tar.

It feels like I'm being torn in half.

Come on, guys, what are we waiting on?

Did you try rocking your boots back and forth like we did with the car?

Mike: She's running out of time.

Pull her up.

Walter: I can't, I'm planted here.

Toby: You got to get unstuck, buddy, She's gonna have life-threatening burns in 15 seconds.

Oh, God.

Mike: Come, on, please.

I'm sending her up.

Sylvester: What do you mean you're sending her up?

Walter: I'm stuck.

She isn't.

I'm unhooking my cable...

Pull her up!

Beth.

Fireman (yelling instructions): Get her down! Slowly.

Careful, careful.

Okay.

Ready.

Watch your legs.

Gurney now!

(gasps)

She's okay.

She's breathing.

Fireman: Back away, back away, back away.

All right.

Mike: I'm right here, honey.

You're gonna be okay.

Walt, why the hell did you unhook yourself?

That's Walter's t*nk.

Hook must've snagged it on the way up.

So he's stuck down there and he can't breathe?

Not good.

Walter, I know you're conserving air, but please, answer us.

I'm here.

Less words the better.

Now it's your turn to stay calm, buddy.

Okay, I am estimating he's got roughly two minutes of oxygen left in his mask and suit.

We need to figure out a way to get both of his legs out of the pocket of asphalt and bring him to the surface.

Look, Sly's right.

We need a plan, or the bones next to Smilodon fatalis will be those of Genius Interruptus.

No use... Can't get out.

Toby: Do we seriously not have any other ideas?

His dive suit and his chances of survival are melting away.

Five bucks for a runny ice cream sandwich?

How am I gonna Instagram this?

Quickly?

Veronica: Look, we got more postings than the actual Spoon & Grain truck.

(sighs)

The only reason we outsold the actual Spoon & Grain truck is because they had to shut down.

A government agent commandeered all their toppings.

The government will line their pockets with anything.

Ralph: I'm following this thread.

A genius team helping on a rescue, and one of them is stuck in the tar pits.

Ralph, this is not a good time, but are you okay?

Mom, who's stuck in the pits?

Is it Walter?

Paige: Yes.

But we're working on getting him out.

Really? 'Cause so far we've got bupkis.

Mom, Walter can melt the tar.

Paige: What do you mean, melt the tar?

Melt the tar... Brilliant.

Sylvester: If Walter heats the tar, it'll lower its adhesion level, and he can pull his legs free.

How is he gonna melt anything down there?

He's got to start a fire.

All right, I got to call you back.

What about the methane, can't it cause an expl*si*n?

Maybe, but it's better than trying to breathe without oxygen.

Fire triangle: he needs heat, fuel and oxygen.

Can... get oxygen... from tire.

Cabe: And you're surrounded by nothing but heat bubbles of methane.

That's your fuel.

Sylvester: The flare on the dash!

Use that for fire!

But once you light it, get out as quick as you can!

(hissing)

Might want to step back from shore.

See you soon.

♪ ♪

(Walter grunts)

(rumbling, creaking)

That doesn't sound good.

(muffled boom)

Any sign of him?

There!

He'll never make it!

(grunting)

Tim!

Come on!

Paige: Careful!

You could fall in!

I think they've got ahold of him. They're gonna reel him in.

Come on!

So tar so good.

When I'm nervous, I pun.

(grunting)

Come on.

(grunts)

(grunts) - (panting)

Walter.

Walter, are you okay?

(panting): I've been better. Beth?

Cabe: Is all right, thanks to you.

Pal, for the record, unhooking that cable and leaving yourself down there, that was tomfoolery of the first order.

Give it up, Toby.

That lingo's never coming back.

Really?

'Cause I think it's the bee's knees, the cat's pajamas.

Ow.

Uh... yes.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Hey.

Uh, hey.

That was my old commander.

With a job offer in Amman.

J-Jordan?

That's... way out of town.

Yeah.

A close friend of his is a private contractor.

He's got federal funding to build infrastructure in the Middle East, and he needs a new head of security.

S-Sounds like an interesting opportunity.

Yeah.

It is.

You know, when I got the results of my MRI, I thought that everything I ever wanted, everything that I worked so hard for was just... gone.

I mean, the SEALs were my life.

So, yeah, him calling with this job offer and having that faith in me, uh, this is... it's intriguing.

But then I think about Beth and, like...

I mean, she should have never made it out of that pit alive, but we saved her.

All of us.

You know, I got into the m*llitary because I wanted to help people.

And I want to continue to help people.

And I don't think there's a better place to do that than here with Scorpion.

So I think it's about time I have a talk with Cabe about making my position here permanent.

Oh, Tim. That's... that's great news.

♪ ♪

This is what I call a scorching partnership.

It's a lot more than the Forestry Braves are expecting.

Well, honey, in business, this here is what is called a surplus.

And since we're profit participants, the F-Braves get their five bucks a box and we each get to take our cut, for our exceptional salesmanship.

You can keep my cut.

Keep your cut? No.

Did you not learn anything tonight?

I learned that my mom had trouble communicating with you for a reason.

I thought we had fun tonight.

I wanted to learn more about you and my mom, not how to con hipsters, which is fish in a barrel.

You seemed smart in your letters.

I was excited when you showed up, but... you've been a disappointment.

Okay, look, Ralph, I have some bad habits.

And the truth is I wasn't a great mom.

But I really want to be a better grandma.

How 'bout we do something fun tomorrow, Ralph-style fun?

We'll go to the planetarium?

Science museum?

Observatory?

All three?

What about the extra money?

(sighs)

We give it to a good cause.

Oh. Hi!

Oh, I'm so glad that everyone is okay...

(gasps)

What-what is this?

Grandma and I sold all my Forestry Brave cookies.

That is more than cookie money.

Ralph: We made a small surplus.

How?

We filled a hole in the market and made people feel special.

We wanted to raise a little extra for Sylvester's campaign.

Oh. (chuckles) Veronica, you know, I appreciate it, but I meant it when I said that I should be able to raise that money myself.

Veronica: But you did.

I've been listening to you, for days, talk about what you'd do if you were elected.

And I like your ideas.

They're really smart. So... this is a political contribution to your campaign.

Not a gift.

It's something you earned.

(chuckles)

Thank you.

Wow.

My first campaign donation.

I get it.

You made him feel special.

(door opens)

That was Toby and Happy from the hospital.

Beth's gonna make a full recovery.

Cabe, I got the rest of the money.

We don't need to do any more ice cream fundraisers.

Thank God. I never want to hear the words “spoon” and “grain” in the same sentence again.

Come on, let's go concept some campaign optics.

Good idea. Hey, how about an image of me riding a Pegasus?

How 'bout we actually try to win this election?

Honey, go pack up your bag.

You “filled a hole in the market”?

It was all very innocent.

It always is, until the judge disagrees.

Do I have to kick you out of here?

It's a small price to pay for getting to spend the night with my grandson.

Honey, he's amazing.

You are a great mom.

And we both know that you didn't learn that from me.

So...

I understand if you want me to go.

Okay. Just... check in with me before you... do anything entrepreneurial.

You're the boss.

Everything okay?

Oh, you know, I'm... used to her manipulating me, but I can't have her manipulating Ralph.

I'm just not sure she can help herself.

I can see how that would upset you.

Uh, but if I may?

We both heard a man today who was so thankful that his wife gave him a chance to change who he was.

She saw the better in him.

Do you think... there's better in... your mother?

Maybe.

You have a decision to make.

You know, I can handle a lot, but not dishonesty.

And not with my son.

With the way I was raised, it just... turns my stomach.

Anyway, you have a... you have a good night.

I have some things to finish up.

Good night.

(chuckles softly)

(quietly): Hey. Way to rock that flannel.

I have another idea you can use...

You know, someone said to me today they knew poppycock when they heard it.

And all your suggestions, they're poppycock.

They're... claptrap. Hokum.

I feel like I'm being dressed down by Grover Cleveland.

Conning Paige may have been an efficient way to impress her, but it's not the honest way.

Veronica, if she ever found out, it would hurt her very deeply.

If I'm gonna win her, I want to do it the right way.

Understood.

I'll back down.

Okay.

But for the record, this makes me want you to end up with her even more.

You're a really good man, Walter.

And I wish you luck, 'cause... that guy's planting roots.

(speaking indistinctly)