- And the final stop on our little private tour
is an exhibit devoted to Grimsburg's biggest industry--
murder.
[thunder booming]
Jeff the Ripper, the Deathguard,
Killex, featuring DJ Khaled.
Notice a pattern here?
They're all men.
And yet women make up half of our population.
- Look, if you're trying to murder my sausage
on this date, it's working.
Ooh!
An empty one!
I'm going in.
Look at me!
Nyeh! Nyeh! Nyeh! Nyeh!
[cackles]
Whose exhibit is this?
- It's mine.
- How can it be yours if I'm the one inside the box
that's rapidly filling up with gas?
- Because I'm a killer, and I'm killing you to make the point
that women-- you know what?
Forget it.
- If you think this is gonna get me to go out
with you again, I just might.
[dramatic music]
♪
[glass shatters]
[birds chirping]
- Look, Harm, I appreciate you letting me
move into the basement after I abandoned the family
to pursue my talent for alcoholism.
But how can I fix things with you and Stan
if I'm not welcome upstairs?
I would do anything to change your mind.
And when I say anything, I mean most things.
Stan, to your room!
[kissing]
- I gave you two simple rules when you moved back in.
One, stay in the basement,
and two, no Vin Diesel movie nights.
OK, fan club's over!
- It's not a fan club.
It's a family.
all: Family.
- Out.
- Look, I need to be allowed upstairs.
That's where my family is. - Family.
- And the good bathroom with the magazines
I'd never buy myself but whose advice I've come to rely on.
- I'm doing this for Stan.
He doesn't need a father who runs off every time he
can't crack a case or has a bad experience at a four-way stop.
- But I've changed.
Now I just close my eyes and floor it.
- You say you've changed, but you never change.
So you're not coming upstairs until you
can change that and prove you've
actually changed for a change.
Now, I got to go change.
The "Grimsburg's Got Talent Talent Show" is coming up,
and I'm competing to be a judge.
- Family.
- Wow, how do you clog a bucket?
[bell rings]
- Think fast!
OK, not a sports kid.
- Finished my art project, Mr. Flesh.
- Ha-ha!
Look who made a picture frame for his divorced parents
to remind them of the good ol' days.
- I thought it might help.
- When you gonna get it
through your thick skull, Stan, huh?
You can't fix them!
- Tyge Hilden,
your parents are here to give you a hug, just because.
- You got lucky today, Stan.
Almost as lucky as I did being born to parents who make love
seem uncomplicated.
I said almost.
[laughter]
- Let's rip out their spines and slurp 'em like spaghetti,
"Lady and the Tramp"-style!
- Or we could prove them wrong by getting
my parents back together.
- Fine.
But now, we've got to get some chow,
because now I'm craving pasta.
Or dogs.
- The victim is Hort Jomes,
won the talent show two years ago.
He swallowed three swords and his trophy.
Turns out it was more of a compulsion than a talent.
- I miss swallowing.
- This talent show again?
It's like that's all anyone can talk or murder about.
Time to see what my Crime Mind is recommending for us...
recommending for us, recommending for us...
[remote control clicking]
[screen chimes]
[eerie electronic music]
♪ ♪
If we figure out the motive, we can catch the killer.
Oh! Do these bikes have any suspension?
- The killerth diorama wath in the thenter of the room
to get our atthenshun.
- So the killer feels they're not being recognized, and--
[in high-pitched voice] Ah, yep!
That ball is inside me now.
- And what better way to express
your displeasure with how society
recognizes talent than by--
- Killing talent show...
[in normal voice] Winners.
It dropped. Thanks.
Ugh, I miss the '80s.
Enjoy Michael Jackson while you can,
but don't hang out with him.
Well, you could.
- [screams]
Wynona, seen any other talent show winners
in the morgue recently?
- [sniffing]
Actually, the winners from three,
four, five, six, and seven years ago also died this week.
Maybe I should have mentioned that earlier.
- OK, here's the plan.
He's coming for last year's winner next,
and when that no-talent psychopath shows up,
we'll be there.
- Case closed.
Nice work, Wynona.
- What?
No, it's-- ugh.
- Heard you moved back home.
How's it going with Harm?
- Until I can prove I've changed,
I'm trapped in the basement.
But how's she gonna know I changed if she never sees me?
- I'm trapped in a basement all day.
But I'm surrounded by corpses, so it's not as bad.
- Well, then you need to see Harmony
outside the house to prove to her you've changed.
- Good idea, Kang.
You're like a walking toilet magazine.
- [laughs] Oh, you always give the best advice.
- Well, I give good advice too.
Flute, your pants are too tight.
- I won't apologize for having drip.
[horn fanfare]
- Welcome to the annual "Grimsburg's Got Talent"
Talent Competition Judging Competition,
a contest to pick the judges to judge the contest.
I know. It is confusing.
But the rules are the rules, my friends,
and they were written by a nine-year-old
who won another contest to write those rules.
That's Grimsburg, baby!
- What are you doing here?
- I figured maybe this dumb, stupid talent show isn't
so stupid, dumb after all.
I guess you could say I've chan--
[cannon booms]
[dramatic percussive music]
This event makes sense.
A judge needs to be physically fit so we're racing.
- [growls] - And you are running,
but like a bear, because you were raised by bears!
- [growls]
- Oh, I get it!
A good judge must make lightning-quick decisions
while balancing between being a Simon Cowell
and whatever pop diva is trying to land a Vegas residency.
Pogo-sticking--
- [growls]
[loud explosions]
--through the old minefield?
All right, well, this is just a Squid Game.
- And it looks like we have our three judges.
As always, Harmony Flute, town dry-cleaner Skid Marcus,
and Marvin Flute!
OK, back to "Fortnite."
- Oh, it's gonna be so fun judging together.
- Fun?
Everywhere you go, crime follows.
- Uh, you say that like it's not super cool.
- You turned our son's birth into a sting operation.
- How do you think I feel?
You turned my sting operation into Stan's birth.
Besides, that was the old me.
I can turn it off.
[snaps] There. It's off.
- Mm-hmm, then what are you doing right now?
- Uh, not crime stuff.
Have a nice day, Squiggles.
You'll see I've changed.
I'm not gonna let work interfere at all
with the two of us judging. [crowd screaming]
- Hey! That clown is killing everyone he sees!
[crowd screaming]
- People are literally screaming with excitement
about us judging together.
[jazzy music]
♪ ♪
- Commencing Operation Undercover Talent
Show Winner Stakeout, over.
- Handsome Falcon is on the beach, over.
- We did not agree to code names.
- You're breaking up there, Wet Blanket.
How's our insurance agent doing?
Any sign of the killer, Jake?
- Hard to say.
I've been busy trying to bundle someone's home and auto plans.
- Hey, Flute, aren't you supposed to be getting
ready for the talent show? - It's fine.
I'll catch the killer, wrap this up,
be over there in plenty of time to give a young performer
a reality check.
Made out to "you suck" in the amount
of "never gonna make it" dollars
and 42 cents from the Bank of Failure.
Memo line, "give up."
Routing number-- - Flute!
Got something for you.
Back when my dead wife was my alive wife,
she hated the job too.
So I started taking DetectOff.
One pill shuts off detective brain for up to 12 hours.
- Flute, are you happy with your life insurance policy?
Because someone's behind you with a knife!
[dramatic music]
- Freeze!
Ah, damn.
♪ ♪
- You're under arrest.
Ma'am?
My apologies, we clearly made a mistake here.
On your way, milady.
- Thanks, m'turd. - What?
No! She had a knife!
- K, you see where that knife went?
- Aw, man, I just bought this parka six years ago.
- Now to try some of that sensitivity training
I slept through.
You rarely hear about women in the serial killer game.
I mean, uh, not that you can't kill,
because you can-- and did, very well, I might add.
Everyone you killed is quite dead, so good on you.
Equality. Suffrage.
You know, your body. Rachel Maddow.
I'm an ally. - Gee. Thanks.
While there have been plenty of female serial killers,
there wasn't one in that exhibit.
Well, I'm out to change that.
- Hey, I'm all for shattering traditional
female stereotypes.
For starters, can we turn the AC off?
Because I'm freezing.
[phone chimes] Oh, hey, Harm.
- Of course you're late.
I knew you'd never change.
- No, I am not late.
I'm gonna be there in--
I made it in four minutes, barely broke any laws to do it.
- Marvin?
Who's that?
- Oh, this is Anna, friend from not work.
The restraints are for her own protection.
She's super clumsy.
- Augh, this is bad.
We can't find our third judge, Skid Marcus.
Maybe your friend here could fill in?
- No, I don't think she should.
- Why?
Too many women in power for you, Flute?
- What? Me? No, I love women in power.
I voted for Hilary...Swank... in my Oscar pool.
Let's have Anna judge.
- Wonderful.
If someone could help me out of this?
Oh, look, I did it myself.
[eerie music]
♪ ♪
[upbeat dance music]
- And now, your Mastermind of Ceremonies,
Grimsburg Middle's top teacher by way of Grimsburg
Prison's most ill-conceived work-release program,
Dr. Rufis Pentos.
- What a night.
I can feel the buzz in the air.
Wait!
That's my ankle bracelet.
[laughter]
Let's meet our unacceptably all white judges.
Hashtag, do better.
- I'm Harmony Flute, and I know talent can come from
anywhere-- even the humble cave,
where I grew up with a rock as my pillow
and bears as my parents.
Thank you for your sympathy and your upcoming
applause for my bravery. [applause]
Oh! [laughs]
- I'm Anna, and I hope the winner has
a talent that's...to die for.
Also, I'm a sucker for tap dancing.
- What? Oh. Uh, hi!
I'm Detective Marvin Flute, and I'll be collecting evidence
of who is the most talented.
But not the usual evidence like carpet fibers, blood samples,
gunpowder residue, or-- oh, semen.
So much!
Honestly, the first time you walk into a crime scene
covered in it, you think, "Well, that happened."
And then, by the 20th time, you're like,
"What is wrong with people?"
And then by the 50th time, you're like,
"What is wrong with me?"
- Let's get things started with our first act,
Eddie the telepathic donkey, who will convince one of you
in the audience to steal the Popemobile.
[donkey brays]
- I thought you said you could turn off the detective stuff.
God, I should have known.
You're just like James Corden.
You ruin everything you touch.
[donkey braying]
- Yes, Eddie.
I obey.
- What are we waiting in this line for?
- I'm going to sing a song.
- [laughs] You?
Singing a song?
- Not "a song." My parents' favorite song.
When it came on, no matter how mad they were,
everything changed.
They'd send me to my room, and then I'd hear them
move furniture around.
Dad would get tired, but Mom would say,
"Don't stop. Don't stop."
And then once they rearrange it,
she'd ask if that's how he liked it.
And he'd say, "I love that, mistress."
Obviously, he meant "mattress." And then--
- Stangello, you can't do this.
The Stable Boys will tear you apart.
- Not if I tear my parents back together first.
[upbeat music]
♪ ♪
[applause]
- I'm not a big fan of coyotes, but I'm giving you
a "hibern-eight" out of "den!"
[laughs] Raised by bears.
- Dancing is the lowest discipline of the arts.
It's basically a weird way of walking,
except you don't go anywhere, and your arms get tired.
But guess what.
I love your song choice, I love your costumes,
and I love that your love is illegal in most states.
It's a nine.
[cheers and applause]
[upbeat music]
♪ ♪
[laughter]
♪
[laughing]
[both screaming]
[cheers and applause]
- That performance was hot, hot, hot!
[cheers and applause]
[upbeat music]
- One day, that'll be my family.
- Yeah, sure, we get some zip ties and gags,
and they're all yours!
♪
- [grunting]
♪ ♪
- I give it a "roller sk-nine!"
- And our final performance tonight is...
Stan Flute?
[audience gasps]
I think we found our loser.
Is this on? It is.
Good.
I didn't want to have to repeat that.
- You sure you don't want to wear a mask?
It might go better if they think you're Rudy Giuliani.
[microphone feedback]
- ♪ There's always that one person that ♪
- Oh, God, he's gonna live with me until he's 30.
- This is why I kept saying we should
have those spinny chairs from "The Voice" and an open bar.
- ♪ I did from the start ♪
♪ Know that you're that one for me ♪
♪ It's clear for everyone to see, baby ♪
[audience booing]
♪ You will always be my boo ♪
[audience cheering]
- ♪ Now I don't know about y'all, but I know about us ♪
- ♪ And it's the only way we know how to ride ♪
- ♪ My boo ♪
- ♪ I know we haven't seen each other in a while ♪
both: ♪ But you will always be my boo ♪
[cheers and applause]
- This year's talent show winner is...
[dramatic music]
Stan Flute!
- I got to say, you didn't ruin this with your detective stuff
like you normally do.
Maybe you have changed.
- Looks like it might be time for someone to get
upstairs pooping privileges.
- Have either of you two no-longer-in-love-birds
seen Anna or Stan?
And look at this.
[mysterious music]
- Oh, I think we might have a problem.
- I want a divorce!
- Wait!
We can still be a stable family!
- Save it, hack!
You had a chance to keep this family together,
and it was on stage!
- Uh, uh... - [sighs]
So you brought a killer whose MO is she kills talent show
winners to the talent show, which our son won,
and now she's kidnapped him.
Congrats.
You're the grand marshall of the Dumb-Dumb parade.
- Ooh, thanks. Do I get a sash?
- Just do your Crime Mind thing
so we can wrap up this little Flute-scapade.
- Uh, right. I'm on it.
[machine beeping, trilling]
Uh, the Crime Mind is kind of offline.
- Oh, of course it is.
Wait, look!
- The ground is sinking in similarly sized
and spaced intervals.
Neat! I'm gonna pee in them.
- Those are footprints, you idiot.
What's wrong with you? - Right, right.
- They must be Anna and Stan's.
- OK, so here's what we're gonna do-- pee in them.
You pee in the big ones, I'll go to the small.
- No, we should follow them.
- Yes! Right.
Follow-- what, exactly? - The footprints!
- Right. And we just pee wherever.
- [sighs]
[eerie music]
♪
- Just wait here, Mr. Talent Show winner.
I need to pick up some knives for the, uh, awards ceremony.
- Come to apologize?
- Apologize?
No, I came to tell you that lady's got more screws
loose than that steering column
I loosened all the screws on to get you
out of that field trip.
Now, let's get out of here.
- You just can't stand when I succeed.
My parents are almost back together.
My plan is working, and nobody had
to get hurt or lose their class B
commercial bus driver's license.
- Who were you talking to?
- Just a big old bag of nobody.
[eerie music]
[bird caws]
- The footprints stop here.
[sniffs]
[growls]
♪
- Hmm.
- Flute! Skid Marcus is in here!
- Finally! I've been here for days.
I know exactly where Anna is.
- Clam it, dirtbag!
- What the hell? Why would you do that?
- I don't know.
I thought I could change, but I couldn't.
So I took some DetectOff to make you think I did.
I needed drugs, because you're right about me.
I'm a one-trick pony, just like that donkey
that did that one trick.
Wait, what's the difference between a pony and a donkey?
Is one gay?
- So you took the drugs for me?
That's so-- sweet.
The old you only took drugs for you,
which means maybe you've changed.
- Yes! I told you! In your face! Sorry!
The competitive part of me still needs
a little bit of work.
You loser!
[chuckles] Sorry, again.
[gasps]
I know where she went.
I solved it, even on DetectOff!
Ah!
Your mom could go suck a butt!
I'm so sorry.
[suspenseful music]
- While I'm sorry you have to die,
if I can inspire just one girl to believe she can kill
as good as a man, your horrifying death
will be worth it.
- Did you come here to gloat?
- I have a better idea.
If we're gonna go down,
we're gonna go down together,
like Bonnie and Clyde,
or Thelma and Louise, or Thelma and Louise
in that deleted scene.
- Mr. Flesh?
- Yes, Stan and Deliver?
- I should have listened to you.
I know all my therapists say you're pretend,
but you're the only real friend I've ever had.
Are you crying?
- Oh, what?
No.
[chuckles] Come on, crying is for babies
and YouTube videos of soldiers coming home to their dogs.
[sobbing] Their sweet, sweet dogs.
- Ladies and gentlemen, for too long
Grimsburg has refused to recognize
the strides women have made in the art of death--
sociopaths like Cyanide Cindy, the Lawnmower Ma'am,
Jeffrey Dahm-her, Princess Die--
that's D-I-E-- they all had to endure having
their grisly work overlooked.
Tonight that ends.
[bell dings]
[dramatic music]
- Family!
I mean, freeze!
- You may have found me, but you can't stop me
from killing the winner.
- Maybe not.
But you should know, Stan's not the winner.
- What? - [gasps]
[all gasp]
- The talent show rule book clearly states
that contestants may not be related to any judge
due to a conflict of interest.
Therefore, our son, Stan, is disqualified.
But there is a winner.
You.
- After everything you did to get here,
you are truly Grimsburg's most talented.
We see you.
- I did it!
I'm the talent show winner!
But I kill talent show winners.
All of them.
[knife clangs]
- But we appreciate the strides you've made for women.
- Thank God!
I don't want to die any--
[screams]
- Family. - Seriously?
Gas money?
You only drove us three blocks.
[engine turning over]
[engine revving]
Whoa, that flying car just landed on a plane,
and it landed on a cloud, and the cloud is a rocket!
You know what?
That's still more realistic than "Furious 7."
- Hell of a voice, child boy.
You know, I used to sing myself
before I realized it was illegal for detectives
to be artistic.
- Wow.
Should we all have some ice cream at home?
- That would be great.
Maybe you could leave a bowl at the top of the stairs for me.
- From now on, you can come upstairs.
[glasses clanking]
- What do you mean there's a split plate charge?
- Uh, we should go.
[donkey braying]
Hey, wait!
[screaming]
Seeing it now, he definitely should have won.
- Bento.