Sorry to bother you, but we're looking for an individual.
Golden-brown complexion.
Fifteen pounds.
No head.
I know where he is.
I'll even serve him up on a silver platter for you. Now get in here.
Glad to see you out of your man cave.
Amanda can be pretty convincing when she wants to be.
-Hey, babe. Eric's here. -Hey, Amanda.
-Well, well, well. You made it. -Yeah.
Sorry.
-Thomas. One second. -I baked this for you.
I couldn't eat it by myself. It would just be too depressing.
You baked this?
For a single guy, I know my way around the oven.
A guy in a uniform who knows how to bake.
You're not gonna be single for long. You remember my mom, right?
-Hey, Mom, remember Eric? -Oh, Eric.
Happy Thanksgiving.
-Do you want any or...? -No, no.
Jeans and a sweater? You could at least make an effort.
Casual's more my thing, Kathleen. Especially in my own house.
-Don't you mean our house now? -USC's gotta be a little different.
-Hey, hey, hey. Happy Thanksgiving. -Hi, Dad.
Oh, thank God, you're back, Thomas.
Thought we'd be eating a frozen turkey dinner.
This guy.
Sorry, Rob. Yeah, this is the first time the store's open on Thanksgiving.
We always do the midnight Black Friday.
But people were showing up at 6 p.m. anyway, so...
And you're a smart man, Thomas.
Credit my fiancée there. It was her idea.
From what I've been hearing,
it is going to be a very happy Thanksgiving.
Here we go.
-Wow, that's beautiful, yes. -Oh, that looks wonderful.
Mitch. We need your carving skills.
I've got time to carve it but not to eat it.
Thomas is not making you work.
Blame Bob. Apparently he's AWOL.
Thomas called and said it's me working or I'm fired.
Sorry, buddy.
The store shouldn't even be open. It's Thanksgiving.
I know, Mary, but let's face it. Black Friday starts on a Thursday now.
Even in Plymouth.
Bon Jovi, get to the back of the line.
Yeah, suck my dick! We were here first.
Everybody.
Just fucking calm down.
Two hits. I hit you, you hit the ground, kid!
-What the fuck? -Jesus.
Everybody. Be patient.
Fuck you. Let us in or you'll be a patient in Mass General.
-What the fuck is wrong with you? -Fucking funny, eh?
The store opens in ten minutes. You'll get your waffle iron.
-Xanax? -No. You got a fire hose?
Todd, I need you at the register.
Thank you.
Will you relax?
Bunch of goddamn morons.
When Kathleen sold my dad this house, I didn't realize she was coming with it.
She'll never be able to replace your mom, Jess.
Yeah.
And look at it this way.
It was a quick engagement, so hopefully it'll be a quick divorce.
Please, God.
-Let's go. Dad. We're going to the movies. -Have fun.
Bobby, I wanna hear about that 19-strikeout game
against UCLA when you get back.
-Deal, Thomas. Good night, everyone. -Bye.
Scuba invited Yulia. He's into her.
-Got it. I'll gas him up. -Okay.
Crunk ain't dead, ho
Bobby. Bobby Boucher.
Bobby "Golden Arm" home for Thanksgiving and my ride or die, J-Money.
What up? I heard you're the new Friday Night Guy.
I'd better be with a 96-mile-per-hour fastball.
That's what I'm talking about.
-Evan, you are such a dick. -What?
Yo, nice job beating Hanover. Scuba, I heard you were unstoppable.
Thanks, it was a good night
until Tyson Fury over here almost got us locked the fuck up.
-Classic Evan. -What happened?
Got in a run-in with drunk Hanover assholes.
-Fuck Hanovers. -I popped one of them in the eye.
But this one was too busy filming herself to get some fucking footage.
-Shit would have broke the Internets. -You are lucky I didn't film that, okay?
It was like Waffle House-level cringe. It was bad.
Crunk ain't dead! Crunk ain't dead!
Fuck Hanover! Fuck Hanover! Fuck Hanover!
This traffic is ridiculous. Oh, I can't handle this shit.
Pit stop. I need a new phone. Mine got smashed in the fight.
-We're not going to the store. -No.
Yes, we are 'cause Evan owes me a new lipstick. Thank you.
-Don't worry. -What?
-Thought we were going to the movies. -Yeah.
We are. How am I gonna text during the movie without a phone?
Who are you texting?
Oh, shit!
Hey! Wrong way, asshole!
-Let's go, girls. -Oh, yeah.
We need to do this quick, okay? Five minutes, in and out.
-Stealth mission, I promise. -You can't park your car here.
It's not a car. It's an SUV.
-Babe, can I stay here? -Don't make me do this alone.
-Bobby, can I get a selfie? -Hey. One second.
-Hey, man. What's up? What's up, dude? -Bobby, we have to move.
Yeah, one second.
Bobby "Golden Arm," all-time record holder for strikeouts at Plymouth East.
-Yes, sir. -And future starter for the Sox.
Hey. Jess. This is the last place I thought I'd see you tonight.
Yeah. You and me both.
Your dad's store's insane. Look at all these people.
-Ryan, I have to catch up with my friends. -I'll walk you. Come on.
-Wait, wait. Let's go, let's go. -So, what are you doing Saturday night?
Going to the Cap with Bobby.
All right, well-- Excuse me. I'm having a little get-together with my friends.
-Excuse me. -Hey.
If you wanted to come by, it's just gonna be a couple people--
I can't. Bobby's only in town till Monday, so...
You should just swing by early.
We could play drinking games, have a good time. I got kegs.
She's all set, Ryan. Come on. Let's go.
Excuse me.
Oh, yeah!
-Chill out. He was just helping. -What a gentleman.
Face it. As long as Golden Arm's around, you're toast.
-Scott. Scott, shut the fuck up. -Burnt toast. Burnt soggy toast.
I love you, but I'm gonna kill you.
Try your best.
Wanna open that gate for us, gentlemen? Amanda, get in here before it gets crazy.
Oh, my God.
Jesus Christ.
Hey! Fuck you!
This is insane.
-Yeah. Let's go in the back. -Okay.
Don't touch me!
Fuck you. Fuck you.
Hey!
Hey, you, we got some unfinished business, you fuck.
Oh, fuck, that's the guy from Hanover I punched.
Fuck you!
-Suck my cock! Pussy. -Suck my cock!
-Hey, fuck you! -Bitch.
-Fuck your mom. -Lonnie, where's your mom at?
Fuck your grandma, fuck your cousin, your second cousin, and fuck your dog!
-Let's just get what you need and get out. -In and out. I promise.
Hey, hey, hey!
Hey! Why are you letting those fucking jerk-offs in there?
Hello? I fucking see you!
It's Thanks-fucking-giving!
It's an American holiday!
Come on, it's a pizza oven.
Where do you think it goes? Ten minutes, people. Please. Come on.
-Hi. Surprise. -Hey, babe, what are you doing here?
I came in with Eric. I didn't want you to starve on Thanksgiving.
I got a call about needing crowd control.
Yeah, you should wait in here, okay?
-Okay. You okay? -Yeah.
-We should go. -Be careful.
Fucking guy Lonnie's 30 years old.
He got held back two years and he's dating a cheerleader. What a fucking loser.
Jess, does your dad still sell shock collars?
-Or a tranquilizer? -Or a sedative?
This is like in the apocalypse movies where you could take anything.
-Evan! -Scuba.
-Come on. -You know what time it is.
-Guys. -Let's go. Fletcher to Dybing.
What happened to stealth mission? Come on.
-Store will open in ten minutes. -Fucking Christ.
Just stay calm, take a breath. Everybody's gonna get their Furbies.
Oh, yeah? Why the fuck did they get in there first?
-Who? -This is fucking bullshit!
-They're getting dibs on the good shit. -Fuck you.
-Fuck me. -Come on.
-Let us in. -Those are our Furbies.
What are you doing? You can't--
You let Danny, Donnie, Joey, Jonny, and Jordan in there.
You better let us in right now.
Everybody, just stay calm, please.
Just push back and stay calm, everybody.
-Doug. Lock it up. Now. -Step back.
-Yeah. -Guys!
Please. Nobody's getting in. I'm locking the doors.
Stay calm and back up. We need you to push back a little bit.
-Hold this for me. -Fuck you, bitch.
-Hey! Give me that! -Store's open, everyone.
We need backup immediately!
Step right up. Get your fucking waffle irons.
-The fuck is going on? -Fuck you.
-Hold on! -Manny, I need help!
-Oh, my God. -Dude.
Fuck is happening?
What the fuck is going on?
Fuck this shit!
-Manny. Manny, help! -Fuck!
Where are you going?
Back the fuck up! Back the fuck up!
Open the door. They're gonna get crushed.
You have to open the door! Get to Mitch! Get Mitch! Doug, you have to get to him!
Oh, my God.
-Jess, call your dad. -Open the door.
-Give me your fucking phone. -Open the door!
-What are you doing? -Yeah, yeah, okay.
Yeah. Gotta find the key.
-I'm looking for the key. -Just open the door! Bobby.
-Open the fucking door! -Hold on, calm down. Gonna open it.
-Stop shoving! -Off of me, jag! Off of me!
Fuck!
Back the fuck up! What the--?
Oh, fuck. Back the fuck up! Back the fuck up!
-Go, go! -Oh, my God.
Fucking move!
Lonnie, grab it!
No. That's my fucking waffle iron!
This is fucking gold. This is fucking crazy.
Jesus Christ.
-Fucking insane! -What the fuck? You're gonna fucking die!
-Evan, get the fuck down. -It's fine. Stay there.
-What the fuck? -Evan! Evan!
-Holy shit. -Evan, get down!
Fuck you!
Move! You fucking move! Yulia! No. Move! Get the fuck--!
Jess. He's alive.
-Hey. Hey, I'm coming. -Bobby. Bobby!
-Bobby. Bobby! Bobby! -Oh, my God! Oh, fuck!
Bobby.
-Fuck you! What the fuck? -Suck my dick!
-You fuckstick! -Suck my dick, Muppet.
No, you're a fucking Muppet, you Jim Henson motherfucker!
Go back to Fraggle Rock!
Nice jacket, you Michael Jackson, you fucking pussy licker!
Fuck you.
Amanda!
No. No. No, no, no.
No, no, no.
Amanda, no. No.
Amanda, look at me.
Amanda, no.
Somebody help me!
Please help me!
Oh, my God.
Oh, fuck!
Stop!
Evan, get the fuck down!
-This is fucking gold. -You suck!
Evan, help me! Evan, help me!
God. Holy shit. What the fuck?
-This is crazy. -Get the fuck down.
I've never seen something like this in my life.
I'm live here at Right Mart and although the store has announced
they will have substantial security upgrades for Thanksgiving,
many residents feel after last year's catastrophic events,
the store shouldn't be open at all.
Thomas Wright, you and your entire family have blood on your hands. My wife's blood.
We open for Thanksgiving, you only hire two security guards?
One of whom runs away, and the other is trampled to death
in the same stampede that killed my wife.
You and your entire family need to go to prison,
not have another sale!
Right Mart owner, Thomas Wright, has worked overtime since last year
to give back to the community, restoring Plymouth Park
and even going so far as to start the Wright Family Foundation,
sending local kids to college.
But many say it's not enough.
Local pitching phenom Bobby Di Stasi suffered a career-ending injury
and has not been heard from since the accident.
Many lawsuits were filed and settled,
but the security cameras somehow weren't working the night of the tragedy.
All I know is, the cameras were functioning fine when I arrived.
Then they stopped working the one night there's an actual disaster at the store.
How convenient.
Thanks, Mitch. Reporting live, Hank Morton at the Right Mart in downtown Plymouth.
Chet, Natalie, back to you.
And here you go.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Good morning, sheriff. You want the usual?
Two cups today, Lizzie. New deputy's coming.
Well, he was in here yesterday and he's not much for conversation.
-Yeah. -A real charmer.
Probably just overwhelmed
by the thriving metropolis that is Plymouth.
What the fuck?
Fuck you.
-Here he is. Good morning. -Morning, sheriff.
Welcome.
And here you are.
-It's John Carver. He was the first-- -First governor of New Plymouth Colony.
Been doing your homework, Labelle.
If you call reading a plaque on the statue "homework."
Now, come on, show some enthusiasm. Thanksgiving is an institution here.
What kid wouldn't wanna wear that, right?
Yeah. Get used to it. Everybody's gonna be wearing them.
Yeah. I can get used to it.
Yes!
Let's go.
What are you doing? Kid, what are you doing?
I just hit top two rungs. That means you get to go again.
-Somebody keeps tagging me in the video. -Yeah, they're tagging me too.
I'm trying to report it.
But people keep reposting it. You think someone's doing it on purpose?
Dude, I just won this candy apple. I hit the bull's-eye three times in a row.
Awesome. Good job, babe.
-What? What is it? What'd I do now? -This.
This is fucking gold.
-I thought we were past this. -Yeah. So did I.
Fuck this. I'm going back to the ax pit. It's safer there.
Ev, I'm sorry.
I wasn't the only one with a phone that night.
-I know you didn't post it. -Come on, come on.
I have to go to the John Carver House to film that commercial with my dad.
I'm making my grandmother's stuffing.
Her secret ingredient was a touch of eggplant.
I hope I can make it half as good as hers.
I'm sure you'll make an excellent dinner, Kathleen.
-Hey, Jessica. -Hey.
So you ready for your big moment in the limelight?
Oh, yeah. Already wrote my acceptance speech.
I have mine ready too.
Yours?
Didn't your father tell you? He wants a family commercial this year.
Look at it this way. One more year until college.
How am I supposed to have an answer? I don't-- I can't fucking believe this.
I don't have an answer, Stan. I have no idea what in the hell happened.
-I don't know what he's doing here. -It's now a complete disaster.
-What's going on? -You gotta see this.
This is a fucking disaster.
Commercial's ruined. Been screaming at everybody the whole morning.
Guys, back up. I gotta call this in.
-A historical landmark has been trashed. -What? Yeah, whatever. That too.
I gotta shut this place down.
I catch these guys, I'm gonna prosecute them for vandalism.
Yeah, and theft. Because there was an ax on that wall I was gonna use. It's gone.
Come to Right Mart, where we slash prices without a fucking ax!
My commercial's ruined.
You look relieved.
Yeah. I'm tired of pretending like everything's normal when it's not.
Well, hey, Jess. I want things to go back to normal too.
That's why this year's gonna be everything last year was supposed to be.
Dad. Having another sale like nothing happened doesn't change anything.
It just ignores it.
As usual, we can't have one moment alone.
-Hey. -Hey.
I'm good. Very good.
-How are things going with Jessica? -They're amazing.
She invited me to the parade to be on the float,
and then I scored an invite to Thanksgiving dinner with her family
at her house. I feel like I'm in.
Bobby ghosting her is the best thing that ever happened to me.
Nicely played.
Is this good?
McCarty Party. That is where you want to be.
You look like you enjoy alcohol and drinking,
so you're gonna wanna come to the McCarty Party.
Twenty-five whole dollars.
Hey. You guys want tickets to McCarty Party? I can do a group rate.
He's charging this year?
He's been watching a lot of Shark Tank. Dude thinks he's Mark Cuban.
No, thank you.
Selling alcohol to teens isn't disrupting.
No. But it is a recession-proof business. Let me know if you guys want tickets.
-They're selling out quick. -How about you finish my history paper?
-And then we'll talk tickets. -Sure.
-You're an asshole. -You're a snob. Be nicer to him.
-He's a sweetie. -I paid him a pretty decent sum of money.
What? I can't write papers and play football at the same time.
-You kidding? -It's Bobby.
-Shit, he's back. -Wait, why didn't he come talk to you?
I don't know. I haven't talked to him in a year.
That's definitely him.
I don't think so.
"The table is set"?
This is weird.
It's a fake. He has no followers.
-It's a table. -We're all tagged.
Ryan's here.
Can you try and seem like you're not a dick?
I'm nice to him. Okay? Ryan's fine. He just...
He's harmless like an NPC.
But he messes with the group dynamic.
Just be nicer. For me.
I have nothing to talk about with the guy. He's kind of boring.
Maybe if you made a bit of an effort.
-I mean, he's a good guy. -Good guy.
Well, he hasn't just ghosted me yet, so he's frontrunner.
NPC.
-Hey. -Looks like a robot, talks like a robot.
-What's up? -Ryan.
Hey.
-How you doing? -Hello.
-Hi, Gab. Good to see you. -Good to see you.
-You finish your paper? -Barely.
I had to start another one today and I got-- I'm gonna just--
I'm gonna be swamped until Christmas, let's just say that.
That's crazy, bro.
Oh, excuse me. We're ready to order.
This isn't Right Mart, honey. You actually have to wait your turn here.
She told you.
-Someone's in trouble. -She told us.
So, what are you guys doing for the Pats-Steelers game?
-Watching at my place. -Sounds fun.
You can totally do that or...
you could watch it with me on the 50-yard line.
-Wait. Bro, are you serious? -Oh, my God.
-Yes, sir. Scuba. You know me. -That's what's up. Jess, brownie points.
-Very sweet. -I like this guy. I think I...
All right.
-Are you shits ready to order? -Yes. Could I do the vanilla frappe?
-You want jimmies on it? -Extra jimmies.
-Garlic knots for the table. -This isn't Papa Gino's, kids.
-Evan, get the fuck down! -This is fucking gold!
No! No!
No!
Fuck.
No. No.
Where are my fucking keys?
Goddamn it.
Fuck. Fuck.
Motherfucker!
Watch out. Here we go. Watch out, sir.
Oh, my God.
Cover that body!
Cover that up!
Everywhere.
Yo. Jacob.
Step into my office.
-What's with the shades? -I had a late night.
-What were you doing? -Well, I had two essays to write.
-I'll hook you up next week. -You said that last month.
-Ms. Byers better eat this shit up, okay? -She couldn't have written it better.
Okay.
You're the man.
-Brainiac. -Eat shit.
Oh, fuck.
Guys. John Carver tagged us again.
Oh, fuck.
Look.
Oh, my God.
These seats are for us.
Our names are at the table.
What happened? Is this killing connected to what happened at Right Mart?
Can we get this pushed back? Am I walking on anything?
-What do you got? -Guys are going
-through security footage inside. -Inside?
-Sheriff, can you tell us anything? -Can you get these guys out of the way?
-Pete? -Found this where the killer broke in.
What is this?
I think it's brick. Or pieces of brick.
Right. Labelle, you've met Detective Chu, yeah?
Oh, yeah.
Yeah. We met.
Come. Take a look at this.
Brick.
We got the killer on security cam,
and you're not gonna believe what he's wearing.
Cameras at Right Mart caught the same guy lowering her legs
onto the sign from the roof.
Just like you said, sheriff.
-Everyone in town's wearing them. -Well...
Jess, you know me. I will not be bullied by some freaking lunatic.
Store's staying open, and I'm hiring extra security.
But, honey, I need you to get to the sheriff's office.
I know. We're going now.
Ask anyone who was there to go talk to him.
-Okay, okay. Bye. -I love you.
-He's hiring additional security. -But not closing the store.
Correct. That would make sense.
Wait. Wait, are you serious? Did your dad not see this guy tagged us?
Is he waiting for us to be on a display in his store?
-I'm asking him right now. -Scuba. Don't.
Why not? He gonna tag me? Gonna send that motherfucker a DM.
-Don't slide into the killer's DMs. -"Come get me."
Scuba, please, just hold off, okay?
It's a murder case in my dad's store. We can't just fuck around.
-Fuck around and find out. -Fuck around and find out.
-He's gonna get it. -He'll see what happens.
-You crazy, McCarty? -Come on. I wouldn't hit you.
Know how much paperwork the cops would make me fill out?
McCarty, are you back to finish 10th grade?
I thought, in light of the situation, you might want a little "protection."
Courtesy of my old man's store.
McCarty, only you would have the balls to sell guns at a high school.
-I should kick your ass right here. -Mark Cuban would think I'm a genius.
Everyone gets a gun, problem solved.
Easy, Scooby Snacks.
Jesus. I'm only kidding.
I wouldn't sell guns to kids.
I'm selling alcohol.
Gotta meet that farthead Jacob
to sell him some more McCarty Party tickets.
-All right, McCarty. -Sales are going through the roof.
-Fuck off, McCarty. -No one's coming to that.
You should come. It's the only place in town you won't get killed.
I could really use your help, Jessica.
Okay. What can I do?
We've exhausted every resource to identify people.
But anyone involved with that night could be in serious danger.
I knew I shouldn't have let them in the store.
-Can you give us a moment? -Yes.
If you look closely, you can see all our names. And then it's kind of blurry.
It says Scuba.
-Why do they call you Scuba? -My last name's Dybing.
What's your first name?
Claude.
Yeah. Scuba's better.
Jessica, you know, I don't know what happened
with those cameras last year.
But at this point, I don't care.
I understand you're in a difficult situation.
But I know you wanna do the right thing.
So if you know something, anything,
that can help us with the information on that night,
I promise I'll keep it between us.
Because this is a matter of life and death.
Jess.
-I saw you at the Cap yesterday. -No, I got in this morning.
-You're working for your uncle again? -I'm helping out while I'm in town.
Well, I'm sure I'll see you around.
Hey, Jess, wait.
I'm sorry.
Can I walk with you?
I mean, you ghosted me. You were off social media.
-You deleted every trace of yourself. -I ghosted everybody.
Yeah, but I'm not everybody. I was your girlfriend.
I blamed you for what happened to me.
And instead of telling you, I vanished, like a dick.
I feel so stupid now, but I just...
Bobby, I feel horrible.
-I mean, if I hadn't let you guys in-- -No, don't. Don't. It was my decision.
I could have stayed outside.
It's not your fault.
How's your arm?
Rehab's going great, so might get back up to full-speed pitching again.
-Golden Arm. -Yeah.
That's good. Happy to hear it.
Hey.
-What is it? -Nothing.
I'm still your friend. You can trust me.
That night, after the trampling, Kathleen was in a panic,
ranting about bad publicity and getting sued.
And she went into the security room and deleted all the footage.
She asked me not to say anything, and I didn't stop her.
-Nothing you can do about it now, so-- -That's the thing. Maybe there is.
Look, there's a backup system at my house in my dad's office.
Jess, that's probably long gone.
No, it stores the footage for a year.
Then tell your dad you need it and then given the circumstances, he--
No, no, no. With the lawsuits? No way.
He's pretending like it doesn't exist.
-What do you wanna do? -I wanna see what's on it.
-Thanks for talking. -Yeah. It was nice.
Oh, no. Don't turn around. It's Ryan Baker. I'll get rid of him.
-Hi, babe. -Hi.
-How you doing? All right? -Yeah. Fine.
-Did you give your statement? -Yeah, I did.
But they were looking to identify people, and I didn't know anybody except Scott.
So didn't have much to offer.
How you doing, Bobby?
Well, I'm sorry to break up this reunion, but, Bobby, could I see you in my office?
-This is new. -Yeah. A lot's changed since you left.
Looks like it.
Let's get out of here.
Still no suspects in the brutal murder of local waitress Lizzie McMullan.
Authorities have no clues other than cryptic social media posts,
leaving many residents to wonder who will be the next victim
of John Carver.
Hey, Dewey.
Hey, buddy. Daddy's going on a little vacation, all right?
Going down to the Dominican Republic, and Gina's gonna come down here.
You just chill, buddy.
Who the fuck is--?
Hey. Yeah.
-I'm waiting. -Yeah, man, I see you.
I got a fucking flight. I'll be there in a minute, all right?
Jesus.
All right, buddy?
Fuck.
Fucking passport.
Fuck.
Jesus fucking Christ.
The fuck?
Show yourself!
I'm a security guard. I kill people every fucking day.
Hey, I'm not scared of you, buddy.
Don't fuck with me!
Shit.
Let's fucking go!
Dewey. Dewey, where is he? Where is he? Tell Daddy where he is, Dewey.
Is he that way?
Night, Mom.
Our killer has claimed a second victim. He's brazen, confident.
He's spent a considerable amount of time and energy setting this up,
but none of this works unless he has a location where he's taking the victims.
He's powering off his phone, so we can't track him on the move.
He's taking the picture and uploading it from another location.
We have one bit of evidence that leads us to Cordage Park.
-Clear. -Effective immediately,
we're searching every inch of it.
Hey.
-Hi, Dad. I was just using your printer. -It's fine. Listen.
Been thinking about what you said.
You know, after Mom died,
the only thing that I could do to survive was work because it's all I know.
But work doesn't fill the void.
So when I met Kathleen, I felt alive again.
I was willing to just overlook all flaws.
And it might have...
been at your expense.
And I just wanna say...
I'm sorry.
Thank you.
-Love you, Dad. -Love you.
You find anything?
Yeah. Let's go.
Wait, what is it?
Nothing. Let's just go.
I know this kid. Lionel.
He goes to our school. He's always the turkey in the parade.
And I know that guy.
He goes to Hanover South.
-Evan punched him, remember? -Yeah. He's the one who started the riot.
He had the bullhorn.
I think his name is Larry or Lonnie or something.
-And she's probably a cheerleader. -That's great, Bobby. Thank you.
Yeah.
Hey, what is it?
There's one more.
That's Ryan Baker.
He didn't know anyone other than his roommate, huh?
And that's Doug, the guard that got crushed to death.
Jessica, did Ryan ever mention to you that he knew Doug?
Because that wasn't in his statement.
No.
-Yeah. -There may not be anything to it.
Be careful who you trust. Both of you.
Don't worry. I'll take care of Ryan.
You're not taking care of anything. He said it could be nothing.
All right, fine, Jess. If I see Ryan, I'll act like nothing's weird.
For you.
You should get back to school. Stay alert.
"That's why I won't be celebrating Thanksgiving
this year or any year."
So brave.
Thank you, Chad.
That was very inspiring.
Next up...
Mr. Fletcher.
Let's go, Fletcher.
All right.
The piece that I have written is titled The Wampanoag
and the Native American Side of Thanksgiving.
By Evan Fletcher.
"While, today, Thanksgiving is one of our nation's favorite holidays,
it has a very different meaning for many Native Americans.
For the Wampanoag, Thanksgiving is a day of mourning."
That was beautiful, Evan.
I enjoyed hearing you read it...
as much as I enjoyed writing it for my blog.
Gonna kill that asswipe.
If it makes you feel better, you'll be killed
-before you get suspended for plagiarism. -Scuba. Don't joke about that.
My bad, you're right. Plagiarism's serious.
-When did you talk to him last? -Two days ago.
-Is there a reason? -Yeah. There's a reason.
I never bought Ryan's Mr. Perfect routine.
How would he know a security guard and why would he not tell anybody?
Doug just moved here. He was the new guy.
-Guy have family in Plymouth? -His family's in Nebraska.
I don't believe for a second it was Ryan. It doesn't make sense. He's too nice.
Okay. Let's not be naive here. The nicest guys are the most psycho.
They're just better at hiding it.
-God, what is wrong with me? -It's not you.
-I feel like I can't trust anybody. -You're probably right.
I mean, us. That's all we got right now.
-And, yes, I am excluding Bobby. -Bobby.
Bobby would never. I told you, he was doing great.
No, you told us he told you he was doing great.
That's different than he's doing great.
For all we know, he's not even at school and he's driving that tow truck full-time.
Why are we talking about them? It's gotta be Mitch.
He's obsessed with the store, his wife just died, and he hates us.
That's right. That guy's up to his eyeballs in motive.
And he drives a van.
The official transportation choice for pedophiles, kidnappers,
-rapists, murderers. -You're right.
Like Coach Ingalls says, "The best defense is a good offense."
Me and you, we go after them, fuck them up one by one.
Then we'll get help from McCarty's store--
Evan. Babe. This is not a game. Okay? These are not some Hanover kids.
Can we let the police handle it, Ev?
We're in deep shit here.
We let the police handle it, we're all gonna end up 50% off.
You gonna answer it?
No.
This fits.
-You're on the Right Mart Mayflower? -Yep.
Next.
Bobby boy.
Forgotten, but not gone.
"Forgotten"?
Oh, it feels like I never left.
-You in the parade now? -Yeah. Jess asked me.
Newlon was right. A lot has changed since you left.
-Maybe not as much as you think. -What's that supposed to mean?
I mean, I'm helping with the parade again.
If you weren't leaving in a few days, I would knock your teeth out.
Leaving?
Buddy.
Who says I'm leaving?
You a fucking pussy? You're a fucking Hornet. Let's fucking go.
One more. One more. There you fucking go. Nice!
The fuck's going on here?
Come on, Hanover.
We gonna carve up Plymouth like a turkey tomorrow or what? Let's go.
Harder! Harder! One more time! Fuck, yeah. You're looking good, cover girl.
Nice. Nice. Nice form there. Good shit.
You guys keep going, okay?
Neil, burpees after this, all right? You're in charge.
Where the fuck are we going?
Coach has strict orders, all right? No sex.
It's just a little tease.
-Sit. -Here?
What?
You're fucking crazy, you know that?
Are you ready?
Fucking born ready. Jesus.
Are you sure?
Here we go!
-Fucking canceled? What the fuck? -Relax.
-You can't cancel my game. -You heard the man. Let's go, Fletcher.
Game's rescheduled. Let's get changed.
Rescheduled until when. June? I'm gonna be graduated by then.
-Where are you going? -I'm gonna play, that's what I'm gonna do.
You can't play football alone, dumbass.
Watch me!
-Blunderbuss! -McCarty, what the fuck are you doing?
Gonna fire it off if they won the game. It's gunpowder. It's all right.
Sorry, sheriff. My kid's a fucking idiot.
-He's a fucking goober chucker. -Get in the car, you idiot!
God, I hate those things. I can't even smell the powder.
First commercial my dad made me do,
he took it so seriously, he insisted I learn how to pack it.
He made me do it over and over again. Almost blew up in my hand.
Jess, you should go home. Gaby, maybe find Evan and get him out of here.
I heard they found blood.
Yeah. The people missing were at the Right Mart.
Stay together. Or at least in pairs. Okay?
Okay. Yeah.
-Shit. I'll go get him. -Okay, I'll meet you inside.
Hey, I can leave, you guys.
No, let's go back together. Okay? We'll be right back.
-Wait up. -Okay.
Hey.
That's weird.
Gabs!
Gaby?
Gaby.
Help! Help! He's in there! Please help!
Help!
Please help!
Did you notice anything about him?
He was dressed as a Pilgrim.
And he had a John Carver mask on.
Okay, just think.
It's about the details.
Small mistakes. That's how they get caught.
I'm sorry, I only saw him for a few seconds.
-It's okay. It's okay. Don't be sorry. -Okay.
We're gonna get you home. You're doing great.
-Okay. -Thank you.
-All right. You guys good? -Yeah.
Gotta get you guys home soon. Get out of here.
-Hey, Bobby's coming. -Hey, is she--?
Hey.
Are you okay?
Here, here, here.
Thanks.
That's my girlfriend.
-Jess. -He came right for me.
-Did you see him? -Hi.
-You okay? -Yeah, yeah.
He came after me, but I got away.
Douche.
That's been happening a lot here recently. I wonder why.
Okay, you wanna tell us about your buddy the security guard?
-I'm sorry, who? -Stop lying to her, man.
Just like how you lied to the cops. Going to the corner, huddled together?
Are you talking about the security guard from Right Mart? Doug?
-We have proof. It's on video. -You are a fucking idiot, man.
I hope you make a better pitcher than you do a detective.
No, I walked off with him because we were getting addies.
That's why Scott was there. I was bro-ing with him 'cause I needed another hookup.
Adderall?
"Adderall"? Yes, Adderall.
That is what smart kids do
so we can get into Ivy League schools and guys like you can tow our Porsches.
-Bitch! -Yo, what the fuck?
-Enough. Get the fuck off. -Ryan!
Get home, both of you. And stay away from the parade.
I see either one of you on the street, I'm gonna haul you both in.
-I'm not the bad guy. He came at me. -This isn't done.
-He just came at me. -No. Stop! Stop!
I can't believe you two.
My friends could be dead and you can't put your bullshit aside?
I don't wanna see either of you.
-Okay? Get out! -Jess, that is not what--
Get out!
Shit. It's my dad.
Yulia.
Yulia. Come.
-Papa. -Get in.
-What are you doing? Pop. -Get in the Mercedes.
-Dad! Just tell me where we're going. -Florida.
-He's taking her to Florida? -I don't know.
That's about as much of a conversation I've ever had with the guy.
What?
Evan's right. The police ain't doing shit.
Let's go.
Where are we going?
Ladies and gentlemen, another satisfied customer.
Jacob, get him a T-shirt.
Here you go, buddy. On the house.
Hey. I just wanna know if it's worth it before we pay.
I heard this party isn't all that, so...
Listen, kid.
Sometimes things end up better than you'd expect. All right?
Think of it this way:
When Black Sabbath fired Ozzy in '79, you would've figured it was over.
The end of an era.
But then along comes Ronnie James Dio,
all 5-foot nothing of him.
The evil little elf.
And he brought a magic to that band that they hadn't seen in years.
-Who's Black Sabbath? -Get the fuck off my property.
-I just wanna know. Who's Black--? -Get the fuck off my property.
-Go back to Methuen, dorks! -Fuck you!
No virgins allowed.
Cocksucker.
-Jacob. VIP. Upstairs. Now. -All right.
Watch out, this kid's been here for two days.
Drank too much white zinfandel.
Welcome to the Death Star. This is where the magic happens.
-Jacob, VIP's closed. -Yeah.
You're on door patrol.
You get caught with any of this shit, you're on your own.
-Jesus. Scuba. -What about this?
Mainly for taking down angry grizzlies in the Alaskan wilderness
or brain-eating zombies in a post-apocalyptic America.
All right. Let me show you something far more reasonable.
.44 Magnum. A classic.
Plus, you get bonus points if you make a Dirty Harry-style comment
when you blast him.
McCarty, do you have any human-sized guns?
Maybe.
All right.
The Sig 226.
It's a short recoil-operated, locked breech pistol.
Decent stopping power.
You'll wanna use this. Keep the safety on. Unless you wanna blow your nuts off.
What about you, Right Mart?
I fired a musket once. It almost killed me.
Yeah, those things are fucked. Let me show you something.
Check this out. Element of surprise, yeah?
Pull it out of your belt and stick them in the gut.
We got all sorts of tactical shit. It's yours if you want it.
I'm good. Scuba will be with me and he's armed, so...
All right.
McCarty, I owe you one.
Yeah. Anytime.
All right. Thanks.
Yeah.
Scuba. Jess. Be careful out there, huh?
Keep yourself alive long enough to return that thing.
I don't know what you're gonna do with a gun.
It's for protection.
You've never even held one before. You've never seen one before.
If you want someone to come and help,
my dad can call the sheriff's department and send a cop over.
-There's one here right now. -Hey, can I come by?
I'm-- Okay, I'm packing right now
'cause I'm going to Florida, apparently, so...
I don't know when I'll be back, but I'm a little stressed.
-I'll call you back later. -Call me from the car.
Jeez.
-For you. Enjoy. -Thank you. Are you sure?
-Eat it. We are going to Florida. -Appreciate it.
When's the remodel done?
Never.
Dad?
Dad!
Jesus, Dad. What the hell?
Car is coming. Finish.
Okay. Trying to.
Fucking contact.
What the hell?
Yulia!
Dad, I'm coming.
Jesus, what now?
-Hey, baby. -Hey, what's up?
My dad's freaking out at me. We have to leave in like five minutes.
-Okay, yeah, yeah, no problem. -Okay. Well, I'll call you from the car.
I love you.
Fuck! Fuck! No!
Yulia!
-No! Fuck, no! -Yulia!
No, no, no!
-No! -No! Fuck!
-Yulia! -Fuck!
Dad!
No, no, no.
No, no. No.
No, no, no!
Yulia!
-Yulia! -Yulia?
Oh, fuck. Yulia!
Scuba? Scuba.
Yulia!
-Scuba. -Yulia?
Yulia!
Scuba, please help me.
-Let her fucking go. -Scuba, wait.
Let her go or I'll blow your head off!
He has Gaby and Evan. He has Gaby and Evan. They're alive.
-Where are they? -Please, Scuba, please.
-Where are they? -What do I do?
-I don't know! I don't know! -Listen, let her fucking go.
-Shoot him. Shoot him, please, please. -Let her fucking go!
-Scuba. -Shoot him! Shoot him now!
Scuba, the safety!
What do I do, Jess?
Jess, what do I do?
How does this happen in a place like this?
You're-- What are you doing? Somebody need to call SWAT? I mean, have you ever?
Maybe we should move.
We're not moving. It's not even a possibility to move.
I just-- I just-- Give me a couple of seconds.
I think we're in agreement
that we're not participating in the parade.
I'm with you, Thomas.
Well, I know I'm not going. It's too dangerous.
And it's not dangerous for Gaby and Evan?
You saw what he did to Yulia.
I can't let that happen to them.
We have to stop him. This parade is our chance to catch him.
If we hide, then what?
I don't wanna spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder. Do you?
You're right, Jess.
I'm in. Let's do this.
Look. Right Mart has extra security, so we don't have to worry about the store. Okay?
And as far as I'm concerned, the parade has been decided.
God, I do not want to be dragged into this any further.
If you hadn't even gone into the store, this would have never happened.
-Enough, Kathleen. -You wanted to open the store.
Nobody was Nostra-fucking-damus to predict what happened last year.
Besides, this year, I'm closing the store.
-Thanksgiving's a holiday, even for us. -Wait, honey, what?
It's the right thing to do. I made the decision. It's final.
Sheriff, is there a way to set a trap?
Well, when the float returns to the warehouse,
we can make it look like it's empty.
Make him think there's an opportunity to strike.
And if he takes the bait, it'll be over right there and then.
"The bait"? Excuse me, I don't want us being used as bait.
We don't finish it now, we'll be bait no matter where we go.
My daughter's right.
Tomorrow John Carver is gonna go down.
All right, Lionel. Turkey time.
Here we go!
I want two people up here to keep an eye on that.
Over here as well.
You see this whole section? Keep an eye on that for me, will you? Okay.
When you get back here, this place is gonna look empty.
But I'm gonna be here, and this whole place will be crawling with officers.
-Yup. Thank you, sheriff. -You're welcome.
Hi. Thank you for coming.
You ready?
-No. -Good.
Me neither. Let's do this.
Okay.
Hey, Jess.
-What's this? -It's my dad's ring from Iraq.
He said it kept him alive. If you want, wear it for good luck.
-Thank you. -You're welcome.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Hi.
Welcome!
Happy Thanksgiving!
Down with Right Mart!
What's going on?
Down with Right Mart!
-What the hell is going on down there? -It's Mitch.
Get off the parade route. Get off!
-Move along! Come on, come on! -It's nothing. Okay.
Happy Thanksgiving!
You have a great day! Happy Thanksgiving!
Happy Thanksgiv--
Grandpa, Grandpa, watch out! Stop the truck!
Watch out!
What's happening?!
-Come on! -Go, go! Go!
-Wake up! Grandpa! Wake up! -Grandpa, wake up!
-Grandpa! Wake up! Grandpa! -Grandpa! Grandpa!
-Hurry, open the door! -Get in, get in, get in!
Go, go, go! In, in, in!
Oh, shit. Get us out of here!
Cover your ears!
He's right there. He's right there. He's coming.
He's right there. Please be quiet.
Please. I'll be right back.
-I'll come back. -Don't leave.
Don't leave me.
Don't leave. No.
No! No!
Help me!
Let me out!
No.
No, no, no. No. No!
No!
Help me. Please don't kill me. Please. Please.
Open the door! Please don't do this. Please.
Please, I'm begging you. Please. No!
No! No, please! No, please!
No!
No, please!
I'm live outside the Plymouth Sheriff's Department
where outraged citizens are demanding answers
after a performer was murdered in broad daylight
at the Thanksgiving Day Parade.
Flash grenades, smoke bombs. I think he's ex-military.
-Could be. -There's no way he's in a civilian car.
-Whoa, I got something. -What do you got?
He's livestreaming from somewhere in Cordage Park.
What the fuck is that?
Labelle, let's go.
I'll try to lock the coordinates in. Calling SWAT.
I need SWAT and all units in Cordage Park immediately.
There's nothing here. We're in a parking lot.
It's telling me you're in the exact spot.
I'm telling you, there's fuck-all here.
Fuck!
Are there tunnels underneath us?
We'll each take an exit.
Labelle, Water Street and Mayflower. I'll take Green and Union.
You guys take Doten Street.
SWAT's gonna flush him out. Got it? Okay? Let's go.
It's gonna be okay.
Go, go, go!
Take it down.
Ready?
-Two lines and two columns. -Copy.
-Cover my six. -Copy that.
We're closing in on the signal.
-Break it in. -Copy.
Oh, fuck.
Did you find them?
Give me a SITREP. Did you find them?
What the fuck?
-It's a fucking monitor. -Damn.
He's using a new cell.
Gather 'round.
No, no, no. No.
Gather 'round the table, everyone.
Dinner is served.
God! God!
What the fuck is that? What the fuck?
Now, is that any way to thank Kathleen?
She's been cooking all day.
Let's start off the dinner with a cheer...
from our cheerleader.
Fresh from my wine refrigerator.
She'll pair nicely with Kathleen.
You might wanna let that breathe.
So nice to all be together again on Thanksgiving.
And joining us...
-Dad! -...our guest of honor, Thomas Wright,
who missed last year's fun, sitting in his mansion.
Now...
we're all going to go around the table and say what we're thankful for.
You're on live, so choose your words wisely.
Evan.
No, no, no.
No, Ev!
Most appropriate that you go first.
You see,
it was your video that inspired me to make my own.
-Ev. -Evan!
No!
Help! Help! We're in an old house!
Let him go! Let him go!
So get ready, Evan. You're about to go viral.
-Please don't kill me. -You're going to break the Internet.
No!
No one appreciates subtlety anymore.
To go viral, you really need to hit people over the head.
Right, Evan?
Look at all those likes.
Congratulations, Evan.
You're a star.
Now that I have your attention,
you're probably wondering why you're still alive and they were all killed.
They were just greedy.
But you...
you're the VIPs.
It wasn't enough to get in the store early.
You had to taunt everyone outside to show them how special you were.
Well, once this video goes viral, everyone will know how special you are.
Too bad you won't be alive to see it.
This will be the most famous Thanksgiving dinner since 1621.
And every year people will watch this video...
and think of your greed and the people who died from it.
Now, let's eat.
Thomas.
You love your consumers.
Well, tonight's your night to be one.
Take a bite of your lovely wife and show me how thankful you are.
Show me that you're thankful...
or die.
Oh, fuck!
-Go, go, go! -Run! Run! Go!
Run! Run!
This way!
-Fuck! -Watch out!
Scuba!
Oh, shit. Shit, shit.
Scuba. This way, this way, go!
-It's the Carver House. -Door. Jess, go, go, go!
Sheriff?
Sheriff.
It's me. Give me the gun. Give me the gun.
It's Bobby. It's Bobby. It's Bobby. He went that way.
Get outside. Get outside. Jess, get out.
He's in there. I think I shot him.
-No. -But then I lost him.
Oh, sir.
Detective Chu says you need to turn in your service weapon since it's been fired.
Right, right. Of course.
-Sorry, pal. -Don't worry about it. I understand.
Sheriff.
We found this on the floor. Still logged into the John Carver account.
Thanks, Pete.
It's Bobby's.
We have every police officer in a 100-mile radius searching for him.
They...
They had to sedate your father heavily.
He'll be in the hospital a few days, along with your friends Gaby and Scuba.
I'm sorry about Kathleen and Evan.
Labelle.
Chu, see you at the hospital. We'll be there in a minute.
See you there.
We'll see you there, sheriff.
You're really brave, you know.
Thank you.
Couldn't have done this without you.
Can you just give me a minute to catch my breath, and then we can go.
Yeah, sure.
I'll be right back.
You ready?
It's about the details.
Small mistakes. That's how they get caught.
I could really use your help, Jessica.
Couldn't have done this without you.
But you gotta be careful who you trust.
Jess, you okay?
Sorry.
I'm not feeling well.
We'll have a doctor check you out.
Come on.
If only you'd been stuck on the fence a second longer.
It's like fumbling on the one-yard line.
It's almost funny if you really think about it.
You should see the look of surprise on your face.
What about Bobby?
Bobby? I had him drugged, dressed up, ready to be shot,
putting an end to the mystery of John Carver's identity.
But when I opened the trunk, he popped me with a tire iron.
Thankfully,
you pointed me in the right direction again.
You've been using me this whole time?
When I said I couldn't do this without your help,
I really meant it.
Why?
Why are you doing this?
Mitch wasn't the only one who lost someone that night.
My wife left me, and Amanda put me back together.
I loved her.
She was gonna leave Mitch.
But then you and your friends took her from me.
You took my family from me.
So now instead of spending Thanksgiving with Amanda,
I am stuck here in this office.
And now so are you.
I'd love to keep chatting, but now I gotta take care of some loose ends.
Wait.
I didn't get to tell you what I was thankful for.
What are you thankful for?
The service in here.
You should see the look of surprise on your face.
You fucking bitch.
Jess.
-Hey. -Bobby?
Come on. Let's get the fuck out of here.
Hey, come on, come on.
Aw, fuck.
Look, your uncle's truck.
Jessica!
Get down.
Sorry, Jessica!
This year...
there will be...
no leftovers!
When I told your stepmother...
she would make an excellent dinner...
that was not a lie!
Okay, go.
This way. Come on, come on.
Bobby!
-Bobby, go! -Come on, come on.
It's the cable.
I'm trying. It's not moving!
Hey, sheriff, you were right.
No leftovers!
Jessica!
Come here.
Take care of yourself. I'll call you from school.
Be safe.
Tell Ryan he's still a dick, even if he's not the killer.
Jess.
Hey.
-I thought you guys were at the hospital. -We technically still are.
We saw the stream.
Detective. We searched every inch of that place.
Everything was incinerated.
There's nothing but ash.
No one could survive a blast like that.
You okay?
Sorry.
-Love you, Dad. -Love you.
Cut!