[suspenseful music]
* *
- Here at CrimeCon in Las Vegas,
a tragic end to the life of Dahlia Stone.
She was the only known survivor of the Westside Ripper.
[people screaming]
Police sources reveal that it appears
she took her own life.
[people screaming]
- I mean, just...splat.
[people screaming]
- And we will be live casting a special memorial tribute
to Dahlia Stone in Ballroom A at 9:00 a.m.
- We'll have more on this story later tonight.
- Oh, my God, I knew it. I knew it.
I told you he killed her. - We don't know that.
- OK, maybe we should just talk to the cops.
We were standing right there.
We look so suspicious.
- You want me to talk to the cops about a second body?
How's that gonna look?
- Uh, we just ran away.
- Yeah, everybody ran.
Nobody likes talking to the cops ever.
Ruby and Carlos ran.
They don't know a fucking serial killer.
We're gonna be fine. - Oh, really, really?
Am I just overreacting about the body
that just fell straight from the sky?
Matt's probably halfway to Mexico by now
when we're still standing here like a bunch of fucking chumps.
We have to leave.
Start packing.
[knock at door]
* *
This is it. This is it. - No, no.
- This is the cops. We're going to jail.
- Shh. Calm down. Calm down. - Our lives are over.
[knock at door]
* *
[forceful knocking]
* *
- I know what you're thinking, but good news.
It wasn't me.
- OK, well, do you know what happened?
- Yeah.
All right, so...
I go up to the bar, right, to confront her,
and she denies it, but she freaks.
Like, I think she's, like, a total sociopath.
But that's it.
I leave, and...
[sucks teeth]
[whistles] Bam.
- You were up there with her on the roof?
- Relax, all right?
There was one camera, blind spots everywhere.
We're totally safe.
Justice is served,
and I didn't even need to get my hands dirty.
- So you're saying she just confessed and then jumped?
- Well, she didn't actually confess,
you know, but she knew she'd been exposed.
Maybe she just... couldn't handle it.
- Or--or maybe she realized
that she was standing in front of the Westside Ripper
who was gonna finish the job,
so you threw her the fuck over.
- OK, all right, let's-- let's--let's--
everybody stay calm, and we'll try to figure out next steps.
- Yeah, totally. - Thank you.
* *
- You guys going somewhere?
- Uh, yeah.
We're not staying here after everything that happened.
- Well, actually, we are gonna stay right here,
exactly as we planned, until the end of CrimeCon.
You got it?
We change hotels, flights, anything,
that's a red flag.
- So you want us to stay inside for two days?
- [laughs] No, Nathan, no, that would be even weirder.
Just get out there like a normal person.
* *
- He is so full of shit.
There's no way he didn't push her.
- I don't know.
I mean, it's--it's-- it makes too much trouble.
All he wants to do is to protect the brand,
and now he's got this shit show.
- We had one rule: no more killing.
He broke it.
It was insane that we thought
we could control that fucking psychopath.
I'm gonna spend my last night of freedom
at home in my own bed,
and then tomorrow we are gonna go to the cops,
and we're gonna-- - We're not going anywhere.
* *
You asked me to do this together, remember?
Together.
And I did.
I got no place to hide.
I'm his fucking alibi.
But now things are getting real,
you don't get to get all wobbly and give up
and throw us to the wolves,
because maybe-- maybe that girl did jump.
Maybe he's telling the truth.
If we're gonna destroy our life, our family's lives,
we better be fucking sure, and we're not.
So unpack your stuff.
We're staying.
- Hmm.
OK, fine.
But he pushed her,
which means this whole fucking game is about to be over.
You'll see.
[door slams]
* *
[indistinct chatter]
[tense music]
- Signed copies of "Not Today," folks.
Signed copies of "Not Today."
* *
- Come on over.
Westside Ripper merch right over here.
Hey, we got signed copies of "Not Today," folks.
Come on over.
This is the place to do it.
Signed copies of "Not Today."
Real Westside Ripper merch, signed copies.
You looking for something special?
- People buy this...
Westside Ripper merch?
- [laughs] Yeah, he's my best seller.
Uh, what do you want, a T-shirt, a calendar,
coloring book right here?
I got everything.
You read "Not Today"?
- [sucks teeth] Wow.
- This thing's selling like hotcakes
since she peaced out.
The Westside Ripper,
he's putting my son through college.
[laughs]
- That's great.
- Excuse me. - Oh, yeah.
Can I get you something? - Yeah, I'll take--
- You're gonna love it. You're gonna love it.
Best book you ever read.
[uneasy music]
* *
- [breathing heavily]
* *
- [sighs] - You know what?
You're stressing me out.
I need a drink.
* *
- Well, wait up.
[indistinct chatter]
* *
- What's your favorite murder?
- Uh... [clears throat]
You know, I, um--
I love the classics:
Bundy, Gacy, Leopold and Loeb.
- Love those guys.
- You do? - Yeah.
- What about you?
- I can't go past my guy here, the Westside Ripper.
- Yeah?
- All the other serial killers today,
they have no flair, no style.
Even the Golden State Killer turned out to be
a mumbly old fuck in a wheelchair.
- Oh, my God, his apology at trial?
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Please.
- Exactly. You got caught, dude.
Just own it. - Yeah.
- But the Westside Ripper, he's got game.
He's making the cops look stupid.
And I don't believe this chick for one second.
The Westside Ripper would never be so sloppy
to leave behind a survivor.
I think she's full of shit and she made the whole thing up
and that is why she jumped.
- Yeah.
[suspenseful music]
* *
Hey...
* *
You want to have a drink with me?
- Here we go! - Oh, boy.
- Yes! - Oh-ho-ho!
- Shot, shot, shot, shot...
both: Shot, shot, shot, shot, shot, shot.
- You guys, no, we're not gonna do...that.
- Come on. You're in your third trimester.
Just pretend you're French or something.
- Do whatever you want.
We are in Vegas. - All right, fine.
- Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
OK, I think that after the whole dead body incident,
we could all do with a little pick-me-up.
One for you.
[dance music playing]
* *
And one for me.
And one for you. - I don't--
- Oh, there we go, perfect. OK.
- You want to spit it out? I mean, we're in Vegas.
* *
- Let's go. - Whoo!
- Salud.
- Yes.
Mmm. And--
- Oh, my God, I have missed you so much.
- And now... - [exhales forcefully]
- The fun begins. - What does that mean?
We're having a great time. - That means we're dancing.
- Where are we go-- - Come on, come on, come on.
- Hey, come on, come on, come on.
* *
- So is this is your first time at CrimeCon?
- Uh, yeah, yeah.
But you know what?
I kind of love it.
- So you make content?
* *
- I do.
I do make content.
- What kind?
- You know, the usual kind--
uh, abduction, murder.
- Well, I am a TV writer.
- Oh, yeah? - Mm-hmm.
I'm actually here researching my next big thing.
- Have you written anything I might have seen?
- Uh, I wrote a pilot last season for NBC
called "Go Forth and Multiply."
It's about a homicidal gynecologist.
- Oh, love it. - But...
then Ryan Murphy rewrote me and got sole credit.
[sighs] - Wait, so your name's
just not on it at all?
- No.
- That is so shitty.
It's really hard being good at something
and no one knows it.
- Yeah, it is.
[dance music playing]
[singer vocalizing]
* *
- [gasps] Hot Plumber!
* *
- Oh, my God.
[indistinct chatter]
- Hey, hey!
[whispering] I have party favors.
- Do you know this person?
- A little bit.
- [normally] Come on.
* *
- Good times.
- [inhales deeply] Good times.
- OK.
- And I'll see you guys on the dance floor.
- Mm.
[dance music playing]
* *
- Hey, are you having fun?
- Yeah. - Yeah?
- It's my first time.
- Oh.
- Aaah!
- [laughs] - So fucking fun.
- I know, I know, I know.
- Except for the heart palpitations.
- Oh. - It's OK, right?
- Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, it's normal.
Hey, you'll be OK.
Just--here, just--
just breathe with me, OK?
You ready? Just breathe in on the count of three.
One, two, three.
* *
See? This make it OK?
One more time, just one more time.
Ready? Breathe in.
And let it all out.
* *
There you go.
Better? [laughs]
- Sometimes Ava and I imagine you're in bed with us.
- Really?
- And by sometimes, I mean a lot.
* *
- You are so welcome.
* *
Whoo!
* *
- So, like, what are you writing now?
- [clears throat]
I'm actually here researching a show on the Westside Ripper.
You know, limited series, prestige drama.
It's very buzzy IP, so people will love it.
- Yeah, I'd watch that show.
Hey, wait, don't you need to get the guy's life rights?
- A serial killer's life rights?
[laughs] - Yeah.
- Fuck that guy.
I mean, he killed a shit ton of women.
He's in the public domain.
And what's he gonna do, show up in court
with a bag over his head and say I defamed him?
[both laugh]
- Yeah.
- I'm gonna make a fortune off that loser.
OK, I'll be back in a sec.
- All right. - And then we are dancing.
* *
[muffled dance music playing]
* *
[moaning]
* *
[suspenseful music]
[flesh squelches]
- [breathing heavily]
- [gurgling]
- Ah.
[muffled dance music playing]
* *
- [gasping]
- Guess you should have got my life rights.
[The Limiñanas' "Calentita" playing]
- [speaking French]
* *
- [speaking Spanish]
* *
- I love Vegas!
* *
- Me too!
- Hey. - Hey.
* *
- Hey, that's my wife!
- I'm sorry, man. - That's--
- I'm really sorry. - That's my wife.
- Yeah.
Yeah, she is.
* *
- Hey, where's your friend?
- Oh, I killed her.
- What?
[Taylor Dayne's "Tell It to My Heart" playing]
[people screaming]
* *
- * I feel the night explode *
* When we're together *
* Emotion overload in the heat of pleasure *
- I am the Westside Ripper, motherfuckers!
- [muffled] The thing is, I gotta sell the show now.
[normally] This guy, he's in the zeitgeist.
If he stops killing or he gets caught
or turns out to be another mumbly old fuck,
you know, then the show's dead.
- You know what? I wouldn't worry about that.
He seems pretty committed.
- Yeah, that's what I'm hoping.
All I need is one murder a month,
keep the show relevant,
new, fresh content.
- New, fresh content?
- Yeah, it's what the people want.
["Yolanda Be Cool's "Unity" playing ]
* *
Hey, where are you going?
- * Be alive *
* *
* Be alive, be alive, be alive *
* *
* Be alive *
* *
* Be alive, be alive, be alive *
* Be alive, be alive *
* *
- I need water. - You need water?
- I got to have water. - Get water. Let's get water.
Let's get water. - You OK?
- Oh, my God. - Get water. Get water.
- Ooh. - Water.
- Ugh!
Yeah, drink the water.
Drink for both of us.
- [chuckles] - No, I liked my wine.
[laughs]
- Mm.
- Oh, my God, they are so hot.
Like, what is wrong with them?
- I told Ruby that we think about her in bed.
- What? - Yeah.
- I told Carlos the same thing.
- What'd he say?
- I don't think he heard me, but it was funny.
- [laughs]
- I did.
- Do you think they think about us?
- Fuck yeah!
The hot pregnant couple?
Abso-fucking-lutely, they think about us.
We're hot and pregnant.
- We are super fucking hot.
- Uh-huh. - And super pregnant.
- Super all those things, yeah. - We are.
- [laughs] Oh, my God.
Ugh. - What?
- Babe, I'm so sorry my crazy got us into this mess.
- No. - This is all my fault.
What are we doing here?
- I love your crazy.
- You do? - Yeah.
That's why I married you. - Really?
- For the crazy.
- Oh, God.
You know what the worst part about all this is?
- What is it?
- If we go to prison, I'm not gonna be able
to wake up to you every day.
[sighs] And I love your penis.
I--I really should tell you that more often.
I do. I really love him.
- Really? - Yes, he's my favorite.
- [whispering] Thank you. - You're welcome.
I just--yeah, I just want you to know.
I love the shape.
I--it feels great. - [normally] Feels awesome.
- I--when I met him,
he was just peeking out of your shorts,
and he was so beautiful.
It was a great meeting. - He was so happy to meet you.
- Yeah, it was the best meeting I've ever had.
- He was like, hey! - Hey!
[laughter]
Do you know I have not seen, literally,
or not even looked at another penis since we got married?
- I know.
- Mm.
I love you. - I love you more.
- Sorry about-- - No, I love you so much.
[dance music playing]
[indistinct chatter]
- This banana bread is great.
- Really? - Uh-huh.
- Not as good as this pink thing.
I had, like, seven of them.
- That's it? - [laughs]
- Oh, my gosh, look. There they are. Oh, my God.
[Garland Green's "Jealous Kind of Fella"]
* *
- * Jealous kind of fella *
* Hey, hey, hey *
- * What a day *
- Let's do one. One. - We'll do one.
- OK. We have time for one. - OK.
- I mean, did we actually think that would be us?
Maybe we dreamed too big on this one.
- I think, at the end of the day,
we're just coupon people.
- I love a coupon.
- Yeah, me too.
- Thank you so much.
So crazy. Can I get one last one?
- You sure you don't want to go see them?
I mean, it--it is the reason we came here.
- OK, one--one more.
- It's OK. - Bye.
Bye. - Bye.
- Hey, we don't need any of this.
We're good.
- Yeah.
- Ted Bundy bottle opener!
Get your Ted Bundy bottle opener.
Ted Bundy bottle opener.
- I'll take the Killer Jam.
- Thank you.
- Mom, look.
It says the Westside Ripper's here,
live in Ballroom D.
- What?
[suspenseful music]
* *
- [scoffs]
There's no way the Westside Ripper's in here.
This is bullshit.
[microphone feedback squeals]
- Hello, and welcome to the second episode
of our exciting new true crime podcast,
"Based on a True Story."
I'm your host, the Westside Ripper.
[people murmuring]
And I've spent the last few days here
in my element at CrimeCon.
And to celebrate, last night,
I killed Dahlia Stone.
[people gasping] - Oh, my God.
- That was no accident, no suicide.
If you want to know more,
stick around after the break.
- * I will remember you *
[phone chimes]
* Will you remember me *
[phone chimes]
[phones chiming] * Don't let your life *
* Pass you by *
[people murmuring]
* Weep not for *
- Hey, what's going on?
- * The memories *
- The Westside Ripper's here?
- Oh, my--we got to go. - What?
- Shit. - Come, come.
- * Remember the good times *
[phone buzzing]
- It's Ruby.
Hi.
- Oh, my God, Ava, where are you?
- Uh, the buffet. Where else?
- OK, well, get down to Ballroom D.
The Westside Ripper is here.
[tense music]
- What?
- Yeah, he's talking about how he killed
Dahlia Stone last night.
- Uh, OK, yeah, we're-- we're--we're on our way.
* *
What the fuck?
[suspenseful music]
* *
[indistinct chatter]
- This can't be for--
this must be something different.
- OK.
* *
- Oh, my God.
- What the fuck is he doing?
- I--
- I never met Dahlia Stone.
I never attacked her.
And I certainly never ran away from her
holding my balls. [laughter]
I have a long and proud record
of leaving no survivors behind.
- Hey. - Hi.
- So I followed her up to...
- Oh, my God. - This is insane.
- Yeah.
- Have you heard of this, "Based on a True Story"?
- No.
- She said she'd tell the world the truth:
she made it all up.
But I decided to throw her over the railing instead.
[people gasp]
- [mouthing words]
[people murmuring]
- Oh, and on the rooftop,
she was wearing a star pendant.
I'm sure my friends at the LVPD will confirm.
- [whispering] We got to go
talk to Matt. - OK.
- [normally] We'll be right back, OK?
- Yeah, yeah. See you in a bit.
* *
- Oh.
Ava!
* *
- What the fuck are you doing? - Matt--
- Shh, be cool. Be cool, all right?
- Hey, you said you didn't do it.
- Yeah, and I didn't. I didn't do it.
How many times? I didn't do it.
But I did have a light bulb moment.
Nobody gives a shit about cold cases anymore, right?
It's too old-school, too "Serial."
Our fans, they want fresh content, new murders.
And the newer, the better.
- OK, that's great, but we had an agreement.
You said-- - I know we had
an agreement, all right,
but that doesn't mean-- - Shh.
- That doesn't mean that we can't, you know,
claim a few of these as our own.
[indistinct chatter]
I mean, look at this buzz.
[indistinct chatter]
These jackals, they are loving it.
There is an entire
Westside Ripper industry out there,
people making money hand over fist
on my hard work.
What do we get? Nothing.
113 fucking downloads.
* *
We've got to change it up.
This is changing it up.
So get on board,
'cause this dream,
this dream we had together,
it's happening right now.
* *
- Matt, come back. - I'll see you inside.
- Come--
* *
Wow, this is a lot of people, huh?
- Yeah.
* *
- You know...
maybe that girl did jump.
- Totally possible.
- Who's to really say who jumped or didn't jump?
We can't... - Absolutely.
- Say. - No, we can't.
- * From the cradle bars comes a beckoning voice *
* It sends you spinning *
* You have no choice *
* *
- More murders to come.
New podcasts every Friday.
Oh, don't forget: like, follow, subscribe.
* *
- * You hear laughter cracking through the walls *
* It sends you spinning *
* You have no choice *
* You hear laughter cracking through the walls *
* It sends you spinning *
* You have no choice *
* Following the footsteps of a rag doll dance *
* We are entranced *
* Spellbound *
* Following the footsteps of a rag doll dance *
* We are entranced *
* Spellbound, spellbound *
* Spellbound, oh-ho *
* Spellbound, spellbound *
* *
* Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-oh *
* *
* Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-oh *
* Whoa-oh *
* Following the footsteps of a rag doll dance *
* We are entranced *
* Following the footsteps of a rag doll dance *
* We are entranced, entranced, entranced *
* Tranced, tranced, tranced *
* *
children: Nice shot, Dad.