[electronic dance music playing on earphones]
Oh, I didn't hear you come in.
[Ravi] I gotta say, I expected more.
[Liv] What? It's a tech office. They do that driving app?
Pathseeker?
And Shopulent. But it's more than that.
Piercey was a genius.
A big thinker, futurist, fascinating guy.
I just expected more from his headquarters, frankly.
A dome, at least. Or holograms.
-So, you found the body, Miss Shaw? -[Miss Shaw] This morning,
when I brought down his briefing file.
And you say you were Mr. Piercey's "Principal Life Enabler"?
-I'm unsure what that-- -We reject traditional job titles here.
It's a tech thing.
But in traditional terms, you'd be...
Personal assistant.
And please, call me Nora.
[scanner beeps]
This place has a second story?
No.
[elevator whirring]
You see, the financial success of Pathseeker and Shopulent
freed Cornell to focus on the challenges he felt most pressing to humanity.
Recently Cornell's time and mental energy was largely taken up by Project Z.
Project Z?
For Ziusudra,
builder of the ark in the Sumerian precursor to the biblical flood myth.
But mostly we just call it "the bunker."
Cornell calculated that some sort of apocalypse event was near imminent,
so the goal was to provide a secure habitat
for a re-population-capable group for 20 years.
[Liv] This more what you expected?
[Ravi] This is more what I expected.
[chuckles]
And this was what I was expecting.
This isn't what I was expecting. What's this?
Oh. This was his list of who he intended to invite inside.
Peyton Charles? Why is she on it?
I don't know, but I'm sure Mr. Piercey had his reasons.
Just so you know, I have an alibi.
[opening theme music playing]
[Ravi] I'm not mad.
In an apocalypse, it'd give me solace knowing you're safe in Cornell's bunker,
while I battle motorcycle cannibals.
I've never even met the guy. Okay?
[man clears throat]
Uh, hi. Sorry. I'm so sorry I'm late. You ready?
Yeah, apology accepted. We're definitely ready.
We have some scenes for you, still a work-in-progress, obviously,
so please be kind.
But, the premise.
A zombie couple struggles to deal with their new human neighbors.
Without any further ado, we'd like to present to you, Hi, Zombie.
Wait, wait, wait. I'll just set the scene for you here.
Okay. So, interior kitchen--
You can just start.
Okay, so...
Go.
Thanks for inviting us over, and for loaning Jeff the pliers.
Of course, we wanted to have you guys for dinner since you moved in.
-[gasps] See, Molly? They're gonna eat us. -[gasps]
-[Ravi chuckles] -And then, enter Ed. I'm Ed.
Hey, guys. Hey, Jeff, did you see the end of the game?
Yeah. We lost in overtime.
Lost in overtime!
Okay, so, at this point Ed's eyes go fully red, and he smashes the microwave.
[growling]
Microwave, smash.
[grunting]
Yeah, I'm gonna stop you right here.
Why?
So, what we want is a show that illustrates
how despite all the misunderstanding, humans and zombies have
more in common than we think.
Yeah, all right. So?
So, what we don't wanna do is portray zombies
as indestructible, raging monsters who eat people.
Maybe lose the microwave and that stuff.
In comedy, you have to challenge yourself and the audience's perception.
Good. But just see what you can do with it.
-I gotta run, actually. -[Jimmy] No, no, no.
-Let me explain, see, in comedy you have-- -[stammers] I think I get the note.
How about I talk to Jimmy and you go ahead?
Okay. Good first effort.
I gotta run.
So, how did Jimmy take the notes?
[sighs] Got a bit testy, but I talked to him after, you know...
[exhales sharply] Comedy person to comedy person.
We have cause of death yet?
Ingestion of muscarine, an organic toxin
found in deadly fiber cap and ivory funnel mushrooms.
Delivered by some kind of pills he took.
Well, that explains the pill case found at the scene.
With very little else besides a few hair fibers and a dried-up contact lens.
Blue-tinted.
Kind of blue already.
Rich people.
Come on, brain up, we're due to see the new Piercey Corp CEO.
Right. I will take it on the go.
You know, for a genius's brain, I thought it'd have a bit more pizzazz.
[Liv] Mmm.
Oh, come on. How many brains have you seen me eat?
It's just that kombucha stuff. Ugh.
So, how's the brain?
[Liv] Nothing specific so far.
You'll let me know if you get an urge to disrupt anything or--
Which begs the question.
Can the mind truly comprehend itself?
Oh, man. So, it's gonna be like this?
Sorry to keep you waiting. Melissa Schultz, acting CEO.
As you can imagine, things have been a bit chaotic here.
So, to make the most efficient use of our time,
I've compiled all relevant information about Mr. Piercey and the company here.
And in case I am a suspect, alibi details,
outlines of my business history with Cornell
and details of our romantic relationship.
You two were in a relationship?
[sighs] Since we founded the company.
We separated last year.
It's in there.
Hmm.
And who broke up with whom?
A mutual decision. I was infected in the great Aleutian Flu scare.
You're a zombie?
Yes.
But we remained close friends.
And as you can see,
profits from our work together were split equitably,
and I bear him no grudges personally,
so I don't see what motive I could have to murder him.
Do you have any additional questions?
-Were you at all involved in his-- -Ideas.
Liv, uh, what?
Are ideas intangible things? No.
They exist in the world. They have value.
Liv, does this relate to--
You might say that you and Cornell had equitable dealings,
but it was Cornell who was credited for your shared ideas.
Is that not a suitable motive for murder?
Oh... [short chuckle]
No. I loathe attention and publicity. I wanted it that way.
I see.
Continue.
Melissa, were you at all involved in Cornell's bunker project?
My day-to-day was current business.
I was aware but uninvolved since, as a zombie, I was not on his list.
Uh... One thing I don't see here is, was he on any medications or vitamins?
Cornell was on a daily regimen of nootropic supplements,
and he took a microdose
of hallucinogenic mushrooms for mental clarity.
And this was common knowledge?
Yes.
[sighs] So...
Is there anything else?
[inhales]
No.
So, as Cornell's neurochem consultant, I dropped off a customized regimen
with his life enabler, Nora, every Monday morning and that's it.
And I'm sure you'll agree,
poisoning my best client would be nonsensical.
I'd be more likely to take your word for it, Dalton,
if your file were a bit lighter.
A series of misunderstandings in a past life. Charges dropped and--
And now you're in nootropics?
"Smart drugs," if you will. Cutting-edge pharmacology
for brain enhancement, increased energy and executive function.
The bio-engineered mind, the next step in human evolution.
You know, I'm surprised you guys don't do it.
I bet you the criminals do.
So, like, ginkgo biloba, taurine?
Horse-and-buggy stuff. I'm all about L-theanine, Alpha-GPC, vinpocetine,
specialized stacks tailored for individual clients and their unique brain chemistry.
And he was mushroom microdosing?
Highly effective. Mental clarity, focus, conceptual openness.
I can get you some literature, if you'd like.
Perhaps a starter pack. Take it for a spin.
Intriguing. What's your trial data set like?
A relevant question is, with Piercey, any chance
maybe you picked a bad mushroom?
No. I grow my own spores in highly controlled conditions.
The feedback data's all in here.
Were you aware of something called Project Z?
The bunker thing? Wild, huh? Guy was a visionary.
You know, he kept a list of who he intended to let in.
Was I on it?
No.
Ah. Well, guess we'll be Mad Max-ing it out here together, then, huh?
Wonderful. We'll be in touch.
What?
If criminals have them, it only makes logical sense.
So, you're firing me because I'm gay?
Oh, God. No.
My daughter's gay.
But, um, this in front of the brain dispensary,
and, uh, this in front of the tanning salon.
Parents saw this and complained.
And frankly, I can't blame them.
Wanting their kids to be taught by someone who's, well...
Alive.
[thunder rumbling]
Smile, zombie.
How about that?
There's paparazzi outside.
We've finally arrived.
That's not paparazzi.
It's those Dead Enders guys. It's creepy, man.
Fillmore-Graves says we should call them. They'll come deal with it.
And kill the vibe that I need,
'cause my Bluster magazine profile is due tonight?
By the way, have you been keeping an eye out for this Al?
Al Bronson. No. What's he look like?
I don't know. What do writers look like?
Styleless, underpaid, insecure?
By the way, we need to cull the riff-raff at the bar.
You never get a second chance to make a first impression.
I mean, look at Bukowski here.
Hey!
You heard the man, out you go.
You, too, big boy.
Nothing personal, just aesthetics.
Cheers.
But you, you can stay.
I don't believe we've met. I'm Blaine.
Welcome to my place.
It's nice to meet you, Blaine.
Al Bronson, Bluster magazine.
Ah.
You are not what I was expecting in an "Al."
Short for Alice.
Don't let the looks of youth and glow fool you.
I've profiled everyone in the area. I've done Gates.
Ty Griss, beloved CEO of You-Freight-EZ. Chris Pratt before the wall went up.
And I was doing Floyd Baracus, world's first zombie mayor,
-before he bit the big one. -Yeah.
Well, then, I look forward to you--
You doing me? Yeah. I've heard it.
Shall we proceed?
[TV playing]
-[indistinct TV chatter] -[both laughing]
Major?
Hey. I was just checking on Jalen and Michael,
but did you hear their favorite teacher got outed as a zombie and fired?
-[Liv] Mr. Moss? -[Curtis] It's the Dead Enders.
They've got this website where they post
photos they take outside zombie clubs, brain dispensaries, tanning salons.
I'm going to visit their principal tomorrow, get the school fixed.
And what is school?
Merely an indoctrination into a system of acceptable thoughts.
Mmm. Liv, is this some kind of brain you're on?
What are our decision points?
Being bullied at school? Favorite teacher fired?
Security issues, going in and out?
Occam's razor suggests the simplest answer.
Hire Mr. Moss to tutor them here.
[all] Yes.
And yes, I am on a bit of a brain.
[Blaine] Well, you know how it goes.
Rich, disapproving father, willful son, yadda yadda.
I had some lost years.
Theft? Drug dealing?
You did your homework. You are a pro.
You know, you should really see my place.
The night's still young...
"Within an hour of meeting DeBeers, he propositioned me twice."
Hey, I meant for the piece.
We wouldn't be alone. It's like a non-stop happening soiree over there.
And plus, what would happen between us?
He's a zombie, she's human.
We all know that old story.
Would a human woman have these nails?
Well, I should get this all down.
So, to be continued, Mr. DeBeers.
I look forward to it, Al.
[Buddy] Wake up, man.
-Wake up. -[groaning]
Come on, dude.
[continues groaning]
[panting]
What's going on?
-Are we free? -I don't know.
I don't think so.
[metal clanging]
Gentlemen, thawing nicely? Bien.
He doesn't look 30 years older.
You've been frozen three weeks.
So, do we get pardoned or what?
You got chosen to start new lives,
casting off your old ones,
pledging yourselves to a new cause.
Should you accept, you'll be working in the shadows.
But you will be helping to save zombiekind from extinction,
with the freedom to use all necessary force.
Or you can go back in the freezer.
So, would you like to meet the new boss?
'Cause he wants to meet you.
He is there.
[man] Go ahead and grab a seat.
[snorting]
[exhales deeply, rolls tongue]
[clicks tongue]
Now, I hear that you guys killed some humans at Warmbloods.
That right?
That's right.
Good.
I need killers.
Who are you?
A better question is...
You know, what am I? What are we?
You and me?
We're what's next.
The next step.
Next step of what?
Human evolution.
Neanderthals.
The Capayanes,
Koningo, Timucua, Pequot.
Gentlemen, what do they all have in common?
Extinct species.
Tribes.
Branches fallen off the tree of humanity.
You see, someone stronger comes along and this one can't compete.
Pretty soon, it's just... Poof!
Gone.
Now, humans. Homo sapiens.
They've had a pretty good run.
But zombies are here now.
The science is clear.
[chuckles]
It's either us or them.
Who do you want it to be?
Us.
Spoken like a winner.
[sighs] Hey, man, I don't know you.
Good luck and all, but...
Pass.
-[gasps, grunts] -[blow lands]
[breathes heavily]
[sighs]
Welcome aboard.
I don't get your objection to nootropics, Ravi.
They've been shown to work.
Well, on nerds desperate to be smart. Textbook placebo effect.
My mental capacity is clearly enhanced.
Go on, give me an equation or a riddle.
No.
Anyway, messing with the mind, it feels like kind of Frankenstein-y.
Horses disrupted feet.
Trains disrupted the horse.
Smart drugs will disrupt the mind itself.
Imagine, Ravi, "the new normal."
Synthetically enhanced brains processing a massively expanded sensorium,
wired into a worldwide data net with cybernetically empowered super bodies.
Got it. The future will be obnoxious.
Now, can we please turn to Mrs. Elkhorn?
-Attached to your meat space? I get it. -[sighs]
Not everyone can think beyond the...
[electronic dance music playing]
[Miss Shaw] Cornell.
[Cornell] Oh, I didn't hear you come in.
[gasps]
The assistant saw.
She saw him replace her name with Peyton's.
Uh, where you going?
To find Clive, get to Piercey Corp.
Logic dictates, if you withhold data, you have reason to hide it.
Data? What? You mean a statement?
It's all data, Ravi. I mean, you could design a system.
You'd have a mechanism to gather crime data.
Physical evidence, testimony, relationships, motive.
A smart algorithm analyzes and voilà.
Congratulations. You just invented the police.
It's just... I told you everything.
Except that your name was on that bunker list
until Cornell replaced it with Peyton Charles.
What? How do you even...
Forensics can, um, dust a whiteboard now.
Okay.
Besides working closely together,
Cornell and I were also...
[whispers] Lovers.
He decided, with my IQ,
Yale degree, fertility index and attraction profile,
I deserved to be on that list.
-Then he chose-- -To replace you with Ms. Charles?
I don't see the connection.
There barely is one.
He saw her give a speech at a fundraiser and was impressed.
Law degree, hands-on governing experience, fit the--
Attraction profile?
[sighs]
Were you upset at being replaced?
Cornell made all his decisions in dispassionate and logical terms.
And I know the sacrifices he had to make to make his vision a reality.
Sacrifices, like what?
Like money.
His project was a severe drain on the company's finances.
He was nearly broke.
Frankly, I'm not entirely sure how he kept the whole project afloat.
I will sink you! Do you hear me?
I paid you for delivery. Now where the hell's my product?
[gasps]
Is she okay?
Thanks for your time.
-[scoffs] -What'd you see?
A man yelling about something he paid for that Cornell didn't deliver.
What man?
I don't know.
[Al] I'm curious,
given your colorful background,
why the city would come to you with their brain problem.
Well, I'd chalk that up to the Blaine DeBeers brand.
Your brand.
I'm a maverick, a rogue.
Bit of an outlaw, who knows that you can't always draw inside the lines,
but always ends up doing the right thing in the end.
Hey, Don E.
We opened it an hour ago.
It's like tumbleweeds in here.
Dead Enders are back.
They're taking pictures. They're spooking clientele.
I was gonna get Carl, we were gonna go out back--
Okay, okay. Relax.
Relax? Blaine, no customers means no money, which means--
Don E, I went to the Wharton Business School for a semester and a half.
Go back to the kitchen, ask the chef for number six on the brain menu.
Number six. Got it. Coming right up.
[Blaine] Oh!
And go talk to the Brazilians across the street,
see if Paulo and the boys are free.
[Liv] Sorry about the cloak and dagger, Mr. Moss.
Renegade.
Wow.
So, what we wanted to see you about--
Oh, the Fillmore-Graves guy.
Yes. Is a job.
We have five zombie kids here who need tutoring.
Ideally, an open curriculum, conducive to independent thinking
and creative problem solving.
You mean me?
[exhales] Yes, I'm in.
Before you commit, know it's not just about teaching.
This is the hub of Renegade's operation.
Secrecy is key.
You'd have to follow very strict security protocols.
Of course. I understand.
Good.
Lives depend on it.
[camera shutter clicking]
How about you stick that camera up your ass, man?
Take a selfie!
You wanna go, zombie, huh?
-[door opens] -Let's go! Come on!
Another key element of the Blaine brand I'd like you to see.
Ah, here they come.
Hey, Paulo!
[Blaine] It's hard to put a name on it.
Some might call it style, others might call it flair.
Just a certain way of doing things.
Paulo, a brisk Samba, if you will.
[playing samba rhythm]
Hey.
I'd like to ask you to leave.
Why don't you make me, zombie?
-[laughs] -[door opens]
Well...
Since you asked.
[both grunting]
Number six, capoeira brain. Brazilian art of dance fighting.
[exhales, sniffs]
It's a bit flamboyant, I guess.
-Wall or no wall, this is still America. -[car engine starting]
Putting on a good show never hurts.
Sorry for the disturbance, folks. First drink's on the house.
I, uh, think I might get the appeal of the Blaine brand.
And... I might want to see the rest.
This pad of yours, with the non-stop soiree you mentioned?
Shall we say, tomorrow?
Nine-ish?
[chuckles]
Don E, hit up my Rolodex. I need a solid quality soiree
up and running by 6:00 p.m. tomorrow, all right?
[chuckles]
Okay, are we ready or what?
[Jimmy] Yeah, just a second.
Sorry, I just needed Jimmy for a quick police sketch.
It's just, his expression was more like he demanded respect
for an imagined authority.
Liv, I can't draw that, okay? Here, just take it.
-Let me focus on this. -Sorry. Okay.
Okay. On with the show.
Okay. So, take two.
Beth answers the door to Jeff and Molly.
Hey, thanks for coming over.
How' s the new place working out?
Great. I can't imagine why the previous couple left.
-Oh, we ate them. -[both gasp]
Kidding. We're not those kind of zombies.
-[Jimmy] And enter Ed. I'm Ed. -[inhales]
[sighs] Sorry I'm late, guys.
A car parked on my foot in the shopping mall parking lot and... [sighs]
-Darn it, I forgot the bread. -You forgot the bread?
[roars]
For God's sake, just stop.
What?
We got rid of the microwave.
It's the same stuff. You just switched it around.
It's a comedy, okay?
That means you have to have comedy in it.
If you just want an uplifting message, print a pamphlet that says, "Be nice."
I want a show. Funny characters the audience can relate to and--
"Funny"! See what you said, funny. That means comedy. [stammers]
Liv, am I crazy?
Or I was wondering, if we had all the same jokes,
but it was the humans making them.
Like funny, wrong assumptions.
Exactly. Still funny, but about human ignorance.
If you know what you want so bad, why don't you just write it?
Well...
That was rhetorical.
Actually, Yasmine. You're our head writer now.
Let's just start with your idea, and go from there.
What? Okay, okay, that's it. I'm out of here! Let's go, guys.
[Ravi] Oh!
[door opens]
Okay, then. Yasmine, get to work.
[door closes]
I don't recognize the man, but if Cornell met with him,
he should be on his computer, if you don't mind going down to check.
He kept very detailed contact records.
I just had to make sure I had the correct passwords.
Are you sure he did business with the man?
Yes. The language he used. "Paid. Delivery. Product."
Did he ever travel any place tropical with beaches?
-No. He disliked the sun. -He disliked excessive sun.
Or it was here.
-He was in this elevator. -Who was?
-This man. -The Fixture King.
Sheldon the Fixture King. Fixture Castle?
Those ads on late night?
Want fixtures fit for a king?
Come see me, the Fixture King! Let me turn your home into a castle!
[Sheldon laughs]
[cackling]
[Clive] Thank you for coming in, Mr. Drake.
Nice watch. Guess the fixtures business is going well.
Yeah. Volume. Does wonders.
Listen, I got a tee time in an hour. Can we make it quick?
Yeah, of course. We just have a few questions.
-As soon as my colleague-- -[door opens]
Oh.
Sorry to keep you waiting.
Okay, no. That's it. I'm not talking to her.
What's the problem?
She is. I know Renegade.
I only talk to the living.
Okay, well, we're investigating the death of Cornell Piercey.
I believe you two had some business before he died.
[laughs] Oh!
And why would you believe that?
Well, just based on conversations--
I saw it, in a vision.
You ate the man's brain, you saw his thoughts.
That is vile.
You were angry. You paid for something and he didn't deliver.
Could you tell us what it was?
Yeah, sure. I hired him for a very special project called "screw you."
That cover everything?
Now, unless you want to come back with a warrant, I'm due at my club,
where they wouldn't even let your undead ass through the door.
[Clive] Okay.
Thanks for your time.
[Sheldon] Oh.
And, Renegade.
I had a vision, too.
All of you monsters were wiped off the face of the earth,
and I was dancing on your ashes.
Your time's almost up, zombie.
That guy really doesn't like zombies.
[sighs]
Liv. That zombie watch website I was telling you about,
check it out.
It's a doxxing operation.
They take pictures at brain lines, tanning salons, places zombies go.
Then they're connecting the pictures to names, addresses...
They already ID'd a few hundred.
Eventually, they're gonna out every zombie in the city.
At a hundred a month? In ten years, maybe.
Their methodology is painfully crude.
I mean, all you need is the right data, purchase habits, GPS tracking.
-You could ID every zombie in Seattle in-- -[cell phone rings]
Okay, their tech may be shoddy--
-Clive. -[Clive] I got something.
You remember there was a contact lens found at the scene?
Dried up, blue-tinted?
I also have something.
What did all of Cornell Piercey's apps rely on for their function?
Uh... I... I don't--
User data.
Shopping and driving apps both collected user data
that could, with the right algorithm, link behaviors to identities.
Sheldon Drake's eyes are brown.
I rewatched his Fixture King ad and guess what color--
Blue. The lens was Sheldon's.
Cornell's company had loads of user data
that could be used to ID certain behaviors,
where they drive, what they buy.
I know what Sheldon was paying Cornell to do.
-You see what I'm getting at? -I do.
You think it's enough for a warrant?
I do. Let's see if a judge agrees.
[crowd chatting and laughing]
[music playing]
You actually came. I'm pleasantly surprised.
Welcome to mi casa.
There's actually other people here. I'm also pleasantly surprised.
Well, if I'm anything, I am a man of my word.
Let me give you the tour.
[dance-pop music playing]
It's like the best possible outcome.
Five students, all zombies. Open teaching plans.
-It's crazy you work for Renegade. -Uh...
Oh.
Right. Hush, hush.
I forgot.
-You live such an intriguing life. -[camera shutter clicks]
Yes, the lifestyle of a middle school teacher.
Late nights grading papers.
Lesson plans on McCarthyism.
Leaving whoopee cushions on my chair. Real sexy stuff.
It's very nice. Early de Kooning?
[Blaine] I don't know.
I just like orange.
[cell phone vibrating]
Sorry, I have to take this. Go ahead and meander.
Put it in the story. Likes orange.
This better be important.
Yeah. Blaine's a super guy. He and I go way back.
I would love to know more about him and the years before the wall, when he--
Oh. No. I mean, like, months.
This place, man. It's tight.
[chuckles] Yeah.
Actually, could you point me to the bathroom?
No clue, man. This is my first time here.
It's tight.
Maybe that way?
[car lock chirps]
[tires screeching]
[muffled grunting]
I didn't do anything.
-[officer] Stop resisting. -It's a bunch of zombie-loving garbage.
[officer] Keep moving...
It's rare that serving a warrant is that satisfying.
Murder weapon growing right in his backyard.
-Ivory funnel. Deadly. -[scoffs]
What are you looking at, ghoul?
[snorting]
-[Moss] That's my wallet. -Brilliant observation.
Mr. Graham Moss, of 157 Wilburn Avenue.
I hear you work for Renegade.
No. No, I... I don't work for Renegade.
I hear you do.
But it doesn't matter.
You work for us now.
[sighs]
Get the picture?
-[video game bleeping on TV] -Okay, that's enough screen time,
if Graham isn't here yet, you should be quietly studying.
-[kid] Just ten more minutes. -Curtis, where's Graham?
[kid] Come on!
Curtis?
[groans]
Oh, uh, he hasn't come in yet.
Sorry, I was up late tracing these Z-Watch users.
Do we have coffee?
I don't know, but they should be quietly studying until...
I know exactly what you were doing.
Mass murder, is what it is.
You do this and zombies are doomed.
[gasps]
-You okay, Liv? -Fine, fine. I gotta go.
Curtis, teach them something.
-What... -[door opens]
Hey. So sorry I'm late.
I thought maybe I was being followed,
so I did a whole thing, but I wasn't, so...
Great. The kids are just there.
I had a vision.
It's too late. Killer's already processed.
Contact was an exact match for Sheldon.
Same prescription, same color. No backsies.
Melissa lied to us, she did know Sheldon.
I saw her slap the contact out of Sheldon's eye in the bunker.
So, Sheldon Drake did not commit this murder?
This particular murder? No. But a whole slew of future murders.
What's that supposed to mean?
He was paying Cornell for a data-mining system to ID Seattle zombies.
I'm pretty sure it wasn't to send us all a nice card for the holidays.
I mean, you heard him.
"All you monsters, wiped off the face of the earth."
Slow down. A data-mining system?
You know, that zombie doxxing website
that Dead Enders are creating brick by brick?
-I'm not aware. -Zombies are.
But Cornell could've ID'd every zombie in a keystroke.
Think about it.
With his new Pathseeker app, he knows where everyone drives.
Every visit to a brain dispensary or tanning salon or zombie-friendly club.
He wants us all dead
and he was paying Cornell to make it happen.
Maybe it's best he stays in a jail.
Liv, come on. We're not precogs. That's not how this works.
If Sheldon Drake is free to plot the mass murder of all of us,
can we say that this works at all?
I think it's great.
-It's funny. It's got, you know-- -It's got heart.
Yeah, it's a good script.
Now, if we just had a cast.
I sent Jimmy the draft, but didn't hear back.
Oh, we can recast.
I mean, the Yoinks can't be the only comedy group in Seattle.
Well, there's Laugh Blitz, which they're not.
Tall Baby are worse.
Well, we don't have much time. I mean, how bad can Laugh Blitz be?
-[door thuds] -[Jimmy] The worst.
[Ravi] Jimmy! Wha...
I didn't think you were gonna show.
Well, I didn't think I was gonna get fired from writing my own show.
-Jimmy, I'm sorry. We just needed some-- -I get it. I understand.
My humor, it's out there.
You know, it's not this "touchy, feely, everybody hug" stuff.
But I see what you're trying to do and...
Yasmine did a good job.
And I'll be damned
if I'm gonna let Tall Baby come in here and screw it all up, so...
Let's do this.
Hi, Dave, it's Al.
I'm gonna need an extension on the DeBeers profile.
Just some intriguing new stuff came up.
I will keep in touch, so, gotta go, bye.
So, how's that new opening paragraph coming?
I actually don't quite have a handle on the opening paragraph.
You may be a more complex character than I thought.
Of course.
Until you know all of me,
you just don't know me.
Then I guess I'll just have to get to know you even better.
Hmm.
I'll drink to that.
Cornell was a genius.
Like many geniuses...
He wasn't good at processing the consequences of his work.
I'm not sure that he even fully appreciated what Sheldon Drake
intended to do with the system he hired him to make.
For Cornell, it was a payday.
Money, to finish his ark.
He wanted to save humanity.
I wanted to save zombiekind.
But you understand.
Don't you, Renegade?
And the mushrooms in Drake's yard?
I put them there when I learned he was a suspect.
Hoping I would get him put away.
I wouldn't have lost any sleep with that man rotting in prison.
Why would you?
[closing theme music playing]