I want to know who killed Bunny.
Tell me about the case.
Bloody Mabel Mora.
We'll uncover the roots of her violent past,
not only as victim and witness, but also as a perpetrator.
Whatever you think you know about me, it's not the full story.
Girl, your crime is showing.
"Get out of the building now."
Whose number is this?
It was you, right? Who texted us
to get out of the building last night?
It most definitely was not me.
I knew it was you.
I think I know how people are getting into your apartment.
So, the killer stabs Bunny,
and then leaves through the hole
in the bottom of my closet.
And, during the escape, drops the matchbook.
Bunny met with someone here. Someone who pissed her off.
What did they just pick up?
Nothing. That's where we keep the matchbooks.
My DNA came back.
Half was clearly Mom,
but the other half was all Greek.
Greek? No, that can't...
_
- Jimmy? Hi. - Hey. You Cinda?
I'm Poppy, Cinda's assistant. We spoke on the phone.
Oh. A gentleman.
Manners are super important to me.
Great. Uh, well, Cinda's just this way.
You're gonna love her. She's the best.
She was so excited about your story about Mabel.
Uh, not that happened to you is exciting. It...
it's... terrible.
Every time I wanna give someone the double bird,
I'm reminded of what Mabel did to me.
I was just a kid. You know?
Can't even use chopsticks. Fuck!
It's really brave of you to tell your story.
You ever been with a nine-fingered man before?
Well, I'm glad that Mabel
did not chop off your sense of humor.
Okay, so it's just this way.
Cinda? This is Jimmy Russo.
Mr. Russo! What a pleasure to meet you.
Pleasure's all mine. Thank you for having me.
Thank you for coming out. I promise this will be completely painless.
If you want to have a seat...
Ever since I was a little girl,
I wanted to be great at something.
But it takes time.
It takes practice and experience and paying your dues.
But most of all, it takes a great mentor.
Poppy, you're letting all the loud air in.
Um, let me hear your side of the story.
Tell me what you know about Mabel Mora.
From Cinda Canning Productions,
this is White Noise.
I'm your host, Poppy White.
Our theme this week,
the stories we tell ourselves.
What are the little fictions that ferry us through life?
- Hey. - Oh, yum.
- Breakfast. - Hey, smile.
Why? What?
Nothing. Just a good photo.
I've been feeling very inspired lately. You inspire me.
Oh, yeah? Well, what are you working on?
It's a surprise.
Um...
This looks really delicious. Thank you.
- They're empalmes. - Empalmes.
My dad and I used to cook them.
Oh.
He always used to say to me, "The perfect egg should never run.
It should walk."
He said,
"It shouldn't be in a hurry, Mabel. It's an egg. Where's it going?"
That's so cute.
You never really mention your dad. What's his deal?
Oh...
What have I told you?
Pretty much nothing.
I kind of like that.
Everyone's just so obsessed with my past.
Maybe that's why I love being with you.
You're just new.
And you've made me feel new.
We tell ourselves we can start over.
People who play with phone cords
are either teenagers or deeply uneasy.
Do I make you feel like a hormonal teenager?
No. You're uneasy.
It's just...
should we be doing this? We are broken up, after all.
What? We never broke up.
Well, I guess I just assumed.
Why? Because I tried to kill you?
How many times are you gonna make me apologize for that?
You're all I have, Charles.
Are you really gonna leave me in here,
all locked up, and not in a sexy way?
I still love you.
Is that crazy?
I mean...
it's a little crazy.
But...
We tell ourselves, this time, it will be different.
So, apparently, my, uh, son is Greek,
which means that I must be Greek, not Irish.
Surprise!
And of course, it makes, you know, complete sense
when you think about the Greeks.
Founders of Western theater, father of the public bathhouse.
Sound like anyone you just met?
We tell ourselves it can't possibly be true.
Am I nervous that my son isn't my son? Not at all.
In fact, the only thing I am nervous about
is producing enough spit for this test
because my mouth is so dry right now.
Anyone else have a dry mouth?!
Oliver Putnam?
Here.
But even the most convincing fictions have their faults.
The truth always has a way of...
_
Yes... Yes.
Synced & corrected by QueenMaddie www.addic7ed.com
_
He was close.
He was so goddamn close.
What do you think?
Is this your old nemesis, Uncle B?
Has the Strangler of Slidell returned?
I thought he was gone, but...
I want soup!
Nothing makes sense. My mind is not...
It's not you, Uncle B.
It's the world that's lost its mind.
- Soup! - And cut!
Winner, winner, you deserve dinner!
- Fantastic. - That was the one.
Naomi, amazing.
- Charles, I think you are wrapped. - You're a great director.
- Thank you. - Thank you. Time for stunts!
- Look who's still got it. - Oh, Joy.
Yes.
Somebody say "stunts"?
Bam! Pataki in the house!
I think I can roll a wheelchair across a room.
Charles, I'm your double.
It is my job, nay, my purpose,
to do what you physically cannot do.
What you emotionally cannot do.
I really think I could roll a...
Shh... You sweet,
soft child of a man.
Sazz is here!
Put it on my shoulders.
I can handle it. Joy!
Drool me up. This Ferrari needs her premium gas.
- That was so cool! - You thought it was cool? Cool.
Uh, Oliver and Mabel are here.
Oliver is making a PA get him food.
What? Thank you, Jeremy. Jacob!
- No, it's John. - John. Shit.
That has to be the killer with Bunny, right?
- Hey, what's that they just grabbed? - Matchbook.
Matchbook. Maybe this one.
Is that a fingerprint?
This is the first piece of evidence that points to someone who isn't us.
But what are we supposed to do with DNA and partial fingerprints?
Could ask the cops for help. We do have a friend in the force.
It's true. Detective Williams texted us on the roof that night.
- I still have the number. - Mm-hmm.
I don't think I need to explain why,
but I should do the texting for the group.
Sorry to interrupt. Charles, I just gotta grab that wig from you.
We'll do it in private...
I don't know why they make you wear this.
You have got a great head of hair already.
Everybody, this is Joy, world-class liar.
Hey!
Also, she's the best, uh,
hair and makeup person in the city, and,
uh, she was on the original Brazzos.
He dragged me out of retirement.
My tropical fish are probably really happy
to have some alone time.
We did it once. Those were different times.
- Different time. - Yeah.
Oh, Charles. I keep forgetting.
Here's the hand cream I was talking about.
It's CBD, so it doesn't get you stoned or anything, although...
it does get you a little stoned!
Anyway, nice to meet you all. Charlie, you were great today.
- Thank you. - No, really.
Uh, Charlie,
- who's the gentlewoman? - It's not like that.
Why isn't it like that, Brazzos?
Because she's not my type.
- What, emotionally stable? - Age-appropriate?
Not incarcerated?
Okay, so actually, she's great, but I'm just not... available.
Emotionally. You know, I'm single,
but I'm just not ready to jump into something. There you go.
It's true. Y-you should have a hoe phase first.
Bet.
You two are banned from interacting.
Oh, is that me?
I'm waiting on DNA results that will ruin my life.
No. It's Detective Williams.
She agreed to run prints on the matchbook.
She says that we can meet up later today to get it from us.
- Ooh, good... Yeah. - Excellent! She is really the best.
"Don't tell anyone else about this. I'm the only person on the NYPD
who thinks you're too stupid to have pulled off this murder."
A bit rude, but noted.
I have got to go catch my train
because someone won't buy me a car.
I'm kidding. I'm serious tho... Ooh!
Are you a real cop or an actor?
Real cop.
You look like an actor.
Bye.
Detective Kreps wants to see you three at Bunny Folger's apartment.
He found something.
Well, okay then.
Just get one, one mic for some room tone.
- Whoa. - What's that?
What is she doing here?
Alright.
Good. You're all here.
I'm glad you could all make it. I appreciate it.
Now that everybody's here,
I want you to know, you need to stop
fucking podcasting right now!
Okay, thanks to you,
we're getting more anonymous tips
than a Penn Station glory hole.
Okay, I'm sorry. Are we here
because you found something in Bunny's apartment
you wanted to show us, or are we just here to...
To be yelled at!
Okay, this was supposed to be a career-making case for me.
Alright, but you amateurs
got things so twisted up that I'm getting calls
from citizens asking me to look into a bird?
A fucking bird?
The "Parrot Theory" is what they're calling it.
This needs to stop right now.
Detective, do not lump me in with them.
I can actually help you, if you'll let me.
Oh, really? The great Cinda Canning
is going to come waltzing in to save another case, huh?
You should be grateful given your reputation, Detective Kreps.
Speaking of reputations,
you'll want to listen to our next episode.
Interesting story from one...
- Jimmy Russo. - Jimmy Russo.
Have you interviewed him yet? He's an old coworker of Mabel's
- from her days at Long John Silver's. - Long John Silver's.
Are you done interrupting me?
Oh. Sorry. Just trying to be helpful.
Oh. Where was that help
when I mispronounced "Chickashaw," Oklahoma, for an entire podcast?
It's, uh, it's "Chickashay."
Who is Jimmy Russo?
He's nobody. He's a liar,
and he's completely irrelevant to this case.
I would argue that he's very relevant.
Jimmy Russo shows that you have a tendency to snap.
Jimmy's the start of a pattern that led to Bunny,
and who knows what you'll do next.
And to our audience,
there is nothing more tantalizing than an unhinged, murderous beauty.
So that's it? You'd rather tell a story that's tantalizing
than the story that's the truth.
You see, we would never do that!
I mean, we have, but we try not to.
No, I tell the truth,
and the truth is that people don't wanna spend their commutes
hearing about run-of-the-mill tragedies. That's why they listen to me
because for 52 minutes a week,
I can scare and surprise
and, yes, arouse them.
They trust me to spin a yarn
from a pretty knitter in Manhattan
all the way to a missing farm girl
in "Chickashay." Shaw. Shay. Shit.
Now, if you will excuse me,
I have to finish mixing...
a pretty damning podcast.
No, listen to me.
No more dropping episodes. You understand me?
Please. The only thing I'll be dropping is the hammer of justice.
Poppy! Get the stuff.
And remember that line! I like the thing about the hammer.
Wow, th-that was something, wasn't it?
Hey, where's Detective Williams? I figured she'd be here, too.
Oh, she's in Denver. She's on maternity leave.
Excuse me. I-I gotta go take a leak.
Williams is in Denver?
On maternity leave?
Then how was she gonna meet us here later
to pick up the evidence?
Unless...
we've been texting with someone else.
- Hey. Are you okay? - Yes. Wh-what do you mean?
Just the way Cinda treats you. It was really rude,
especially since you're the one
- who knows the stuff. - I'm fine.
And I don't respond to flattery. I find it dishonest.
I mean...
Can Cinda be difficult? Does she have a temper?
Toss the odd stapler from time to time? Of course.
Pick the stapler up off the ground and toss it again
until it hits you in the face? Show me a genius who doesn't
toss the odd stapler and then pick it up again and then toss it again.
But it's called paying your dues.
I'm waiting for my break.
You're not going to get that break unless you speak up.
Make it happen.
Act like a producer, not an assistant.
And you should start with Jimmy Russo.
He's full of shit.
You would be helping Cinda out
by keeping that interview off the air.
And you might earn her respect in the process, too.
Cinda does respect me.
Here, girl!
It's an inside joke.
Okay, let's not jump to conclusions.
Just ask Detective Williams where she
wants to meet up and see what she says.
Mm!
"Can't meet up now, too risky.
Hide evidence in spot in Morningside Park.
I'll grab it later"?
So she can't meet us face-to-face,
but she can meet us in Morningside Park
later from Denver?
The killer.
We're texting with the killer!
Ah!
That's my phone.
Oh. Sorry...
How did this happen?
We assumed it was Williams who texted us.
Well, what do we do now?
I'll tell you what we do now.
We agree to their terms.
Season seven, episode 21.
"The Fake Evidence."
We tell them we'll put the matchbook
inside a Stop & Shop bag in a trashcan outside Morningside Park.
And then, twist!
The evidence is fake!
- Uh, saw that twist coming. - It was in the episode name.
Instead...
it's a paint bomb.
- Okay, that I didn't expect. - Yeah!
Boom! The bomb goes off, marking our targets.
We rush in, make a citizen's arrest!
Now, we don't have a paint bomb, so we can maybe...
Glitter!
- Did you say "glitter"? - Yeah.
If my years in regional theater
and wild orgies have taught me anything,
it's that there is no getting rid of glitter.
God, I'm clever.
Okay.
- Everything's in place. - Okay.
Now what?
Only Murderers in the Building is brought to you by Pink Ladle.
Soup by women, for women.
Use promo code "BUTCHERED-BUNNY" for 50% off your first order.
- Nice. - So good. Oh my gosh.
Alright, we can slot that into the final mix,
and we're ready to publish.
Sorry, what is this in my calendar? "Meeting to set performance review"?
Yeah, that's for me. Um...
I... My performance. I was just thinking that maybe you could
review it, and then, um,
if you find it adequate, that you might, uh,
consider promotion. A promotion.
Hm.
Luís, what did you think of that Jimmy Russo interview?
Shit was unreal.
You know, Poppy found that guy.
Fuck, yeah.
Okay, well, I don't normally consider promotions
until year five, but, uh...
Yeah. Let me have a think on it.
Fuck yeah.
Why is this taking so long?
When we did this on Brazzos, it was always the third guy.
This reminds me of the time
when I did Waiting For Lefty at the Roundabout.
You know, my little Will was there,
waiting for Lefty every night.
He was 6 or 7,
too young to appreciate the radical
leftist propaganda of Clifford Odets.
The red-baiting, union-busting.
But at the end,
when we would get the whole audience involved,
Willie loved to lead the shouts of,
"Strike. Strike. Strike."
Like a...
cute little lefty communist.
- It's okay, Oliver. - I know. I'm fine.
Everything's gonna be okay, right, Charles?
Sure, buddy. That DNA test is gonna be fine.
Probably be fine.
Could be bad.
Oh, thank God.
- Oh, thank God. - Oh.
Such supportive friends.
Fuck! She dropped it.
Today on Only Murderers in the Building...
There we were,
in the kitchen at the Long John Silver's,
when Mabel,
she just snapped, chopped off my finger,
chopped it clean off. Like...
Bam!
Gone.
And then she deep fried it.
She served it up like it was nothing. Like it was a hush puppy.
Like it wasn't even my finger.
You lying piece of shit!
How would you characterize her in your own words?
Who? Bloody Mabel?
She's a bloody monster.
Stay tuned as we...
Jimmy was this handsy creep,
and the first time I pushed back, he trips
and gets his grubby little paw caught in the meat slicer.
I'm Cinda Canning.
Only Murderers in the Building is brought to you...
Okay, let's listen to something else.
Music, anyone? I could go for some music.
Jesus, Charles. Who's in Hopestill?
Besides all the eligible bachelorettes
of the Hopestill Women's Correctional Facility?
Okay, I got, uh,
Kingston Trio and Brothers Four. Could listen to that.
Charles, please tell me you're not in contact with Jan.
I'm not in contact with Jan.
What is wrong with you?
Ooh, the betrayal. Look at him!
So caught.
Probably asking himself if there's time to concoct a lie.
But, at the same time,
lacking the mental dexterity, at his late age,
to wrestle one into comprehension.
Okay. I have been talking to Jan,
but it was for the case. Initially.
Initially?
I think we're just dating now?
Well, she says we never broke up!
She tried to poison you and kill the entire building. It's implied.
Thank you! That's what I said!
Then why didn't you end it?
Because... I-I...
I don't know how.
I'm non-confrontational. I've never broken up with anyone.
I usually spend one year getting into a relationship,
one year enjoying it,
and four years trying to get out.
I mean, I'm 75 years old,
and I thought I was in the clear.
I mean, I know I have to break up with her, but, you know,
Jan is... scary
and sexy?
And that makes it difficult to do.
I guess my father is at fault?
He abandoned us, and now I can't bring myself to leave anybody.
She killed my friend.
I know. I know that.
Jeez, Charles,
- you need to get your shit straight. - Mabel, don't...
Fuck!
Hey!
Wha...
Jeez, Oliver, what was that?
I call it the Mariah.
It's a-a pound of glitter, a jar of rubber cement,
and-and just a nugget of C-4.
Well, cool.
There goes our best chance at catching him and clearing our names.
Generating podcast content that's worth a damn.
All foiled because of this pussy willow blowing in the wind.
See you guys later.
Mabel, I'm sorry.
I should have...
I just feel like walking!
I need some space.
She's fine. This happens every third or fourth episode.
- But you do have to end it with Jan! - I know.
It's just gonna be hard and unpleasant.
Maybe I don't have to.
- But you do. We just went over it. - No.
Maybe I don't have to.
Are you good to drive?
Okay, I'm heading out. Any messages?
People are loving the episode.
- Mm. - Jimmy's a hit.
Good job, Poppy!
Oh, Stanley's turning three tomorrow.
Can you write me a card? He can't read. He won't know.
I-I was wondering, did you have a chance to, um...
- Uh, what we talked about earlier? - Earlier?
Oh, earlier,
when you asked for a promotion in front of Luís
and made everyone really uncomfortable.
Oh... What?
You put me on the spot. What am I supposed to say?
"No, you're never going to be promoted"?
That would have been awkward.
You are a rock star assistant, Poppy.
The way you pluck every last piece of cilantro
out of my buffalo chicken bowl.
You're like a surgeon.
Thank you.
When I was an intern at the Post,
Kay Graham gave me a great piece of advice.
She said, "Don't be too good at a job you don't want."
And she was a real cunt.
Hello again, Charles-Haden S...
Sazz.
Bear with me here, babe. I'm almost off-book.
Charles just sent these pages.
What is that?
Are those lines?
Roll sound, camera...
Action. Jan...
we need to talk.
It gives me no pleasure to say this, but...
I think we should see other people.
Is he... A-are you...
He's breaking up with me with you?
This is ridiculous. Where's Charles?
I'm told it's customary to say,
"It's not you.
It's me."
But, come on, let's face it. It's, like, 80-20 you.
- I'm hanging up. - Jan.
I don't love you anymore.
I'm sorry. I suggested as much as the other day,
but I was afraid.
I was afraid of you.
I was afraid of being alone.
But I'm not afraid anymore.
Well, I am still afraid of you.
But I'm not afraid of being alone.
And... I don't want to hurt you.
But this is goodbye.
I'll never forget all that you taught me.
The anatomy of your bassoon.
The long joint.
The butt joint.
The crook.
Gets pretty porny.
Doing anything for you?
- Oh, yeah. - Well, then I'll continue.
Hello?
Alice?
Apparently, the yolk is supposed to...
"walk not run," whatever that means.
Sorry, I'm getting into character. What did you say?
What the fuck?
- Hey. - Hey.
Hey.
Oh my effing G, is that her?
Let's just try that again.
Okay, the way you just said "14,"
I want you to say "savage" like that. Like...
Like it's your last breath. Okay, try that.
Okay.
Alice.
Mabel? What are you doing here?
What am I...
This is my apartment.
I'm sorry. You weren't meant to see it like this. Not yet.
Let me explain. Um...
I was just trying to help. You know, I was looking
at your trauma through a fine-art lens.
I was going for something more photo-realistic...
Mabel? Mabel? Are you okay?
Mabel? Let me explain!
Mabel!
Okay, so they said DNA results in 36 hours,
and here I am, refreshing my inbox.
I got nothing.
I'm a mess, Charles.
All I want is a soothing bowl of tzatziki,
but Greek food is triggering for me right now.
What if I lose my son and my dips in a single day?
Yes. You can stay here until your email comes.
Thank you.
And while we wait,
maybe I can introduce you to the wide world
of South American salsas.
Huh?
Ecch...
- Hello? - Hi. It's Poppy.
Poppy White? I wanted to apologize...
Hey, right now's not a good time.
Actually, it's the worst fucking time.
I didn't stand up to her, um, but you have to understand
Cinda is like a monster and a goddess.
It's, um, it's hard to explain.
- I have to go, okay? - Oh, wait! Um...
She didn't finish college.
Who? Cinda?
Yeah, I'm pretty sure she dropped out, and, um,
and her teeth aren't real.
- What are you talking about?! - Cinda is a liar,
and-and it goes way deeper than dental implants.
I mean, you were right. She will do anything to tell a good story.
Trust me, you learn a lot about a woman
when you manage her calendar.
And she's got her sights on you now, so...
if you and those old men need my help, please, let me know.
I know where all the bodies are buried.
And there are lots of bodies.
Uh, so to speak. Okay...
Hello?
Mabel?
And they just put the mango right in there?
- Comes like that. - It's ingenious.
Mm!
What do you need? A hug?
Personally, I don't like hugs, but...
- Oh. It's just Will. - Hm.
Look at that. My-my son sent me a video.
Yo! Bloody Mabel sighting number two! She just stabbed some dude!
I'll take that hug now.
Synced & corrected by QueenMaddie www.addic7ed.com