I'm so glad we could finally do this.
I know, Kylie says you're always stuck at the precinct.
Yeah.
Speaking of, this is work.
Sorry.
What's up, Peralta?
Captain called. He needs everybody back.
There's a lead on the nightingale strangler.
We're looking for a white male, 5'10", medium build,
brown hair, small scar on his right cheek.
Okay.
His M.O. is he finds lonely women with no friends,
poisons their food,
and then guts 'em in his van.
It's pretty gnarly.
Last seen wearing a salmon shirt, grey blazer,
and witnesses have said
he has trouble fitting lettuce in his mouth.
Okay. Where are you?
Apparently has the world's smallest penis
and doesn't know how to use it...
Hi, there, I'm Jake Peralta,
Amy's boss. That's not true.
What are you doing here?
I'm here on a date.
Who is now leaving.
Worth it. Have a great night.
- Your boss seems really nice. - He's not my boss.
Yes, I am!
Sync & corrections by Rafael UPD www.addic7ed.com/
And with a record five felonies solved in one week,
Peralta pulls ahead.
Did you guys hear that I solved
five felonies in a week?
We heard.
Really? How?
Five felonies in one week!
Light 'em up, Boyle.
That's the sweet taste of triumph.
- You should shower more. - Yep.
Updates on open cases.
I just got a DOA on Bessimer street.
You're the primary, you're in charge.
Take Diaz and Peralta.
Yes.
My fantasy threesome.
Of cops on a case.
Detectives, our monthly crime statistics are due.
I want all paperwork on your closed cases by tomorrow.
Scully, you can just write
"I didn't close any" on a piece of paper.
You got it.
I already got my paperwork in, Captain.
Then I guess this little reminder isn't for you.
Wow, looks like he hates you even more than me.
No, he doesn't.
We have a good relationship.
We're on the same page.
Something to share with the rest of us, Santiago?
No, sir, I wasn't... Peralta was the one that was talking.
God, you must have been the worst fourth grader ever.
Joke's on you.
I skipped fourth grade.
Santiago, anything else?
No. No?
Uh-uh.
Dismissed.
Hey, Boyle. I know you haven't had Peralta
as a secondary in a while.
Be careful.
It can be rough.
Hey, saboteur, that's not true.
I happen to be a very good secondary.
So you were just borrowing those cars?
Ask about his bank account.
Ask about his bank account!
Ask him about his bank...
Account.
You should ask him about his bank account.
Captain, Santiago broke the glass.
You can't give up control,
you're terrible at taking your primary's orders,
you just do whatever you want.
I could go on and on and on.
Is something no lover of yours has ever said.
Blammo.
Look, I can be an amazing secondary
and I'll prove it.
I know you will, Jake-in-the-box.
Okay, don't ever call me that again.
I'm driving. We should leave now.
Carry my bag.
But you should pick the music, primary.
♪ Consider yourself part of the furniture ♪
♪ There isn't a lot to spare ♪
♪ Who cares
♪ Whatever we've got we share ♪
It's a great picture, sir.
I hate it.
Me too.
So I have an eyewitness in the purse-snatcher case.
Only problem is, the sketch artist is out sick.
How do you want me to proceed?
Figure it out, Santiago. It's your case.
Yes. I will do that.
Thank you.
Are you bowing?
No.
This is how I walk.
What do you need, Quasimodo?
I gotta go meet with Boyle and Peralta.
Is there something wrong with the Captain?
It seems like he's in a bad mood.
I don't know. Who can tell?
You all right, Captain?
Tough weekend?
I went to Barbados with my husband.
We wove hats out of Palm fronds
and swam with the stingrays.
I've never been happier.
Guy's impossible to read. Don't even try.
That is, without question,
the funniest story I've ever heard.
Wow.
This guy must have weighed 500 pounds.
I think we have an idea what killed him.
It was not starvation.
What do we got?
Sorry, sorry.
You're the primary, you're in charge.
Frank Patterson.
58 years old, married, no children.
Wife found him this morning and called it in.
Any signs of forced entry or a struggle?
No.
You sure about that?
Looks like maybe his belt
had a pretty epic struggle with his stomach.
What are you thinking, Boyle?
All ri... I'm calling natural causes.
We got heart medicine over here,
home defibrillator.
And a frequent customer gift basket
from the cardiac wing of Brooklyn Methodist.
This case is open and shut.
Just like his mouth was, constantly.
That was my last fat joke.
Okay?
Diaz, check and see if there's
any more meds in the bathroom.
Boyle, see what you can find in the bedroom.
I'll take the kitchen.
Yep, that's exactly what I was gonna say.
It's... it's so weird.
He's so good at knowing
what I'm gonna tell him to do,
he just does it. It's weird.
Hey, sergeant.
You know how you're really good at doodling?
I know you think you're complimenting me,
but calling them doodles is an insult.
You a big fan of Picasso's doodles?
Sorry.
Can you please draw a perp for me?
The sketch artist is out sick
and the Captain wants this done right away.
He's in a bad mood.
Is he?
I can never read him.
You look chipper, Captain.
You have a fun weekend?
There was a small fire in my home.
I lost many photo albums of treasured memories.
I'm devastated.
I'm telling you,
he and I have a connection
and there is something bothering him.
Can you help me out?
Great.
Ma'am, can you please describe the perp
to sergeant Jeffords?
Yeah, he had, um, dark, curly hair,
and a neck tattoo...
Wait, wait, wait. Slow down.
Let's start with the eyes.
Were they desperate? Lonely?
Did they betray heartache?
They were brown.
Do you even want your purse back?
So far you've managed to tell three fat jokes
and completely bulldoze Charles.
Is that your idea of being a good secondary?
First off, I've told four.
And second, I'm helping.
I mean, I started cataloguing the contents of the fridge,
but it turns out there's not enough paper on earth.
Five fat jokes.
Thanks, Arnie.
See, Arnie thinks I'm doing great.
Arnie, shut up.
Jake, for once, just hang back
and let Boyle do his job.
Fine.
Unless I get a direct order from Boyle
I will stand here motionless
like a wise, old oak tree.
You look like an idiot.
I'm so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Patterson.
Can you talk about what happened after breakfast?
I took the dog for a walk.
When I came back, he was dead.
I'm just in shock.
We were going on a cruise together next week.
He had pre-purchased the unlimited soda package.
I'm sure the soft drink industry mourns his passing.
Motion reactivated.
Hey.
Detective Jake Peralta.
Dr. Rossi. I'm the new medical examiner.
Don't let me get in your way.
I'm sure you have a lot to do.
Actually, I've been given a direct order
to do nothing, so.
What brings you here...
Okay. All right.
Sorry. Sorry.
- You all right? - What's up?
How's the Patterson case looking?
It looks like natural causes,
but I'll know for sure once I get
the autopsy results tomorrow.
Jake volunteered to follow up with the M.E.
My man is all over it.
I'm really glad you could sneak away from your case.
Well, it's technically not really my case,
but on the plus side, I have all the time in the world.
- Oh. - To you.
And to the ginormous, dead fat man
who brought us together.
Hey, Jake.
Have you heard anything from the M.E.?
She hasn't sent the autopsy report.
Oh, that's strange.
Maybe probably a bunch more people died
and she got super busy?
That's definitely what happened.
Okay, just let me know when she calls.
You got it.
Hey, can I ask you guys something?
Can you keep a secret?
Do you know anything about my life?
No, I do not. Good point.
Okay, so you know the new medical examiner?
I kinda had sex with her last night.
What?
Oh, sorry, I forgot who I was talking to.
Sex is something that two adults do with their bodies
when they're attracted to each other.
He's right, Santiago. Do you not know that?
I meant, what were you thinking?
She was supposed to be doing an autopsy
for your primary, Charles.
The guy died of natural causes.
What's the big deal?
Anyways, back to last night.
As you would imagine, I'm normally up
for pretty much anything in the bedroom,
but I can't tell if what happened was weird or sexy.
Wait. Close your eyes.
Oh, okay.
Shh.
Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.
What are you doing?
I like 'em cold.
Okay...
Not that weird.
Cold? Like a dead guy?
You're reading into that.
Am I?
You have a really nice chest.
Thank you.
I'd love to crack it open
and get my hands all over your organs.
Okay...
I wonder how much your appendix weighs.
Oh.
It's inflamed.
All right.
Wait, that's bad, right?
- Yeah, it is. - Oh, no.
Ew!
Please tell me you ran out of there.
No.
For some reason I kinda started getting into it.
Oh, what do we have here?
A 34-year-old caucasian male who is dead.
Very dead.
Mmm.
Cause of death?
Blunt force trauma.
But what do I find when I probe a little farther?
Bruising around the neck.
And ocean water in the lungs.
Ooh, how long have you been dead, body?
Four days.
Gross. Bloating. Odors.
Oh, uh, 24 hours.
Perfect.
Here we go.
Stop, stop, stop! Weird, weird, weird!
Rosa, what's your call? Weird or sexy?
Weird.
I knew it.
- But also kinda sexy? - No. Weird.
But more importantly, that's what you were doing
while Charles was grinding through paperwork?
Told ya.
Worst secondary in the unit.
What do you guys want from me?
You know, I take over a crime scene, I'm a bad secondary.
I blow off work to have sex with a hot coroner,
I'm a bad secondary.
I can't win.
What are you guys talking about?
Um, just weird sex stuff
that has nothing to do with work.
I once had sex on a futon.
And it was in couch mode.
Hmm.
Sarge, all of these are fine.
How much longer are you gonna work on this?
It's questions like that
that made Van Gogh cut off his ear.
You can't put a clock on art.
Ten minutes.
Great.
Let's catch this guy
so we can give Holt some good news.
I wanna cheer him up.
Well, how do you even know he's in a bad mood?
I mean, it's impossible to read that guy.
This is the most incompetent, worthless report
I have ever read in my life!
Get your act together or, so help me God,
you won't live to see retirement!
It's like, "what's that guy thinking?"
You know?
I can read him.
And if anyone can figure out
what's bothering him, it's me.
He and I are exactly the same.
Except that I'm younger, Cuban,
female, single, and straight.
Captain Holt's not gay.
Captain Holt's gay?
Seriously, man, just retire.
Boyle, where's my paperwork on that DOA?
Still waiting on the autopsy report.
Supposed to come in first thing this morning,
- but so far, nothing. - This is unacceptable.
I'll call the M.E. and find out what happened.
Eh, bup-bup-bup-bup-bah.
That's not necessary, sir.
For the record, I think it's natural causes anyway,
but I'm also the secondary in this case.
It's my responsibility, so I will head on down there
and pick up the report.
Good.
But don't ever bup-bup-bup-bup me again.
Right, I don't know...
Bup-bup-bup-bup... Bup-bup-bup.
Just go.
Yep, I am going to regret teaching him that one.
Rosa, can I show you something?
What's up?
Patterson's wife told me
that they were going on a cruise together next month,
but her credit card bill shows only one ticket booked.
Either she's lying or she knew he was gonna die.
Huh, nice find, Boyle.
This could be a murder.
Where's that autopsy?
Jake went down to the M.E. an hour and a half ago.
He still hasn't got back to me.
Jake went to get the autopsy report?
I know. Isn't he the best?
I mean, he's really coming into his own as a secondary.
I wanna get him something nice.
Does he come across more as a Pinot guy
or more of a Shiraz?
You know what?
We better go down there.
See what's holding him up.
Good call.
Detectives.
Hello.
Shirt's buttoned wrong.
Huh. So it is.
Well, how can I help you?
Uh, we came by to get that autopsy report.
- Hmm. - Is Detective Peralta here?
I haven't seen him.
Thanks for coming by.
Hold on.
Found him.
Ah, thank goodness you're here.
I am so lost.
Do you know where the vending machines are?
Look, it's not what it seems like.
Yes, it is.
Here's what happened.
I came down here to get the autopsy report
and in conclusion, here we are.
Now if you'll excuse me...
Cut the crap, Peralta.
Look, I'm sorry I slowed down the autopsy results,
but everyone knows it's natural causes.
Not anymore. We think it could be a murder.
Wait, like a murder murder,
or, like, his mouth murdered him
by making him eat so much food
that his heart exploded?
Murder murder.
We need the autopsy to be sure.
I have not gotten to that yet.
You guys have been down here for two hours.
What, did you have sex 40 times?
40 times?
No, Charles, like...
Look, I'm sorry.
We didn't know it was a homicide.
Well, it shouldn't matter.
I'm your primary and I asked you to do something.
So if it's okay, I'd like to be upset with you.
It's more than okay.
It's okay times two.
Now, Dr. Rossi,
will you please perform the autopsy for us right now?
Actually, with a body this size,
I'd need my assistant,
and I gave him the rest of the afternoon off
when Jake showed up.
Guilty.
Okay, fine.
I will act as your assistant
because I am a wonderful secondary.
How gross could it be?
Just gonna need you to hold open
this chest cavity for me.
Oh. Wow.
Okay, I can do that. It's no big deal.
Just like holding open some slimy elevator doors.
For a family of aliens... Oh, my God.
Yep, there are some signs of stress on the heart,
but that's not surprising.
Oh, will you look at that stomach lining?
God, that is just a beaut.
Ugh.
All right.
I'm gonna need you to go ahead
and take your hand...
Yep, get it down there.
Get it down there.
Get it on in.
There you go.
Oh, that is so big.
- Caught him? - Yes, sir.
He was easy to pick up.
He looked just like the sergeant's sketch.
You could be a professional artist, boss.
Like on the boardwalk.
You think I should draw caricatures?
That's garbage art!
I don't draw giant-head people on surfboards!
I'm saying you could. You're that good.
Captain, the credit really goes to sergeant Jeffords.
Without his refined artistic skills...
Finish the paperwork by noon.
I want it included in the crime stats.
I gotta say, I always hate how I look in pictures,
but that is so flattering.
Also, I'm innocent.
You got the wrong guy.
Shut up.
Sarge, I need you to do one more drawing for me.
What?
It'll cheer the Captain up.
He'll be over the moon.
He may even lean back in his chair a little
and nod slightly.
This is a lot of pressure.
If I'm gonna do this, it has to be done right.
Scully, get me my oils.
Paint or massage?
I'll get both.
You know, this is one of the most unhealthy people
I've ever seen.
It's like cutting
into a big, overstuffed ravioli.
Sure you want me to keep digging?
Unfortunately, yes.
If the primary on this case says it's a murder,
we have to treat it like a murder.
Okay. Here we go.
Oh.
Wanna see something cool?
No.
Here it is.
That's what I'm talking about.
Listen.
Goosh.
Mm-hmm.
You know what that was?
That was the air releasing from the large intestine.
In the biz, we call that
"the death bubble." It's pretty cool.
- Here, you wanna hold it? - No!
Knock knock.
You can knock with your hands.
Saying it is ridiculous.
Okay.
Well, I know you're having a bad day...
I think you're having a bad day.
So, to cheer you up I had Terry do this painting
to replace the photo you hated.
I threw away the photo because I think it's ostentatious
to hang pictures of yourself.
Especially when you haven't earned a place on the wall.
- Oh. - But you would have me
hang a baroque oil painting of myself
like I'm a north Korean dictator.
What? No ornate gold frame?
Why am I not astride my noble steed, clad in armor?
We could add a horse.
You just wasted your time, Terry's time,
and now my time on this
when you should have been filing a report
on the purse-snatcher.
Oh, I did.
It's already in the system.
- Oh. - Mm-hmm.
Good.
Thank you. Dismissed.
Here are the contents of his stomach.
Oh, that's where they went.
And here's the really cool part.
Get in here, look at the scarring on this liver.
Poison.
Ingested.
Boyle was right.
All right, I'm gonna go tell him.
Yeah, you could.
Or you could stay for a post-mortem.
Nope. Sorry.
The spell has worn off.
No more weird dead guy sex for me ever again.
It's nothing personal,
I just think sex is for the living.
Isn't that right, buddy?
Oh, my God, he has no eyes!
Oh, that is terrifying.
What now, Santiago?
I figured out why you've been so tense.
You're worried about the monthly crime statistics.
That's not your concern.
I just checked the stats myself.
Our arrest numbers haven't improved since you got here.
They're exactly the same as last month.
If this is your strategy to cheer me up,
it's backfiring.
Sir, I don't think you realize
how good flat numbers are.
I went back 12 years.
A precinct's numbers almost always get worse
under new leadership, but ours didn't.
That's a win.
It's just your first month.
Morale is much higher, people are working harder,
you're well on your way
to earning a place on that wall.
Thank you, Santiago.
You know, we're birds of a feather, you and I.
I hate cliches.
Cliches are the worst. Okay.
We know you killed your husband.
That cruise you planned was for one,
plus the autopsy showed clear signs of poison.
And for the record, the inside of his body
- was very gross. - Noted.
My only question is, why'd you do it?
Um, he drove me to it.
He had affair after affair.
He was a real don Juan.
Permission to make a fat joke? Granted.
Are you sure you didn't mean "don flan"?
Thanks. Nice.
Mrs. Patterson, you are under arrest
for the murder of your husband.
Sarge, that painting is tight.
It's terrible.
The brushwork is sloppy.
There's poor use of negative space.
I'm a fraud.
Not at all.
I'd like to take this home for my husband.
He'll be glad you made me look so happy.
I was trying to make him look serious.
I still can't read him.
- No one can. - I can.
He likes it.
Nice job, Boyle.
- You nailed it. - Here.
Of course he did. He's a great primary.
And I'm sorry I was such a bad number two.
I may, for the first time,
have been a bit of a jerk,
and I'm sorry.
What a wonderful moment.
I agree, it is a wonderful moment.
What a wonderful moment. Rosa, do you agree?
It's all right. It's all right.
- ♪ Wonderful moment - ♪ Moment
♪ Between two guys
Oh.
D.A. wants to set bail for Patterson's wife.
They need me to send them all the files.
I'm the secondary.
I'll go back there and do the busy work.
You guys stay here and keep celebrating.
You sure you're not just sneaking off
for more weird dead guy sex?
We will never speak of that again.
Never.
Okay, bye.
God. Crazy day, huh?
I hate small talk.
Let's drink in silence.
Perfect.
Sync & corrections by Rafael UPD www.addic7ed.com/