* Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air. www.able.co.nz Copyright Able 2019 (faint radio chatter) (upbeat music) (alarm beeping) # I walked 47 miles on barbed wire # # I got a cobra snake for a necktie # # A brand new house along the roadside # # And it's made out of rattlesnake hide # # Got a brand new chimney made on top # # And it's made out of human skull # (alarm beeping) # Come on, take a little walk with me, baby # # And tell me who do you love # - Aw, shit. # Who do you love # (motorcycle revving) # Ah, who do you love # # Now, around the town and use a rattlesnake whip # # Take it easy, baby, don't ya give me no lip # # Who do you love # # Who do you love # # I got a tombstone head, a graveyard mind # # I'm just 22 and I don't mind dying # # Who do you love # # Yeah, who do you love # # Aw, who do you love # - Hey, Ann. I gotta go to work. - Hi, it's Karen from SwimTech. Leave me a message. - Hey, hon. I was hoping to catch you. It's my big test day, so wish me luck. OK, love you. (motorcycle revving) # Night was dark, the sky was blue # # Down the alleyway an ice wagon flew # # Hit a bump and somebody screamed # # You shoulda heard just what I seen # # Who do you love # (car revving) # Who do you love # # Yeah, who do you love # # Aw, who do you love # (faint radio chatter) (horn honking) - Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck. Oh, God. Ah, fuck. Mmm, yoga pants. (alarm blaring) (guns firing) (people screaming) (fast-paced music) - Chacho, let's go! Let's go! (tyres screeching) - Suspect's in black Chevy. - We got him. (sirens blaring) (people screaming) (glass shattering) (robbers grunting) - Whoa! (cars crashing) (gun firing) (glass shattering) - Holy shit! - What are you stopping for? - What the fuck was that? - Put your gun on the fucking floor! - It's not my fault! You're the one driving like a fucking dick! - Oh, so you steady yourself on the trigger of an M4? You see those? Those are the "oh, shit" handles. That's what they're there for. - Shut up and drive! - Two options. Gun on the floor, or a muzzle in your mouth. - Let's go! Chacho, drive, man! - There you go! - Open fire! (guns firing) - Son of a whore! - Drive, Chacho! Drive, man! (fast-paced music) Let's go. Let's go. (slow, tense music) Let's go. What are you waiting for? - Well, it's just kind of a dick move, you know. - What? - It's like Santa shot Rudolph after all the deliveries, you know? - You're a funny motherfucker, Chacho. (glass shatters) - That's cold, dude. That's fucking cold. - Let's go, let's go. - Oh, you gotta get in the back. It's supposed to look like a fare. - Just go! - Not like a cabbie with his homie ridin' in the front. You gotta get in the back. (whistles) - Just go. - Get in the back. - It ain't happenin'. - No? - No. - Fuck it. (doors lock) Tel Aviv, Tel Aviv. - What? - Tel Aviv, Tel Aviv. - Go, go, go, go! (sirens blaring) (tyres screeching) - Tel Aviv? What the fuck is Tel Aviv? - Oh. - Chacho. - No, it's Castillo. Agent Castillo. I know, it's a bummer, right? Look at those guys. Whoa! - I took you on vacation to the Bahamas with my family. - It was great, I loved it. - You fucking piece of shit! To the Atlantis! - Hands on your head! - Yeah, but in '09, you shot my partner in a credit union! - Huh? - His name was Michael Glade. - Hey, keep still. - (groans) - Easy, nobody shoots! - Don't move, Chacho! (gun firing) (Clay screams) - Oh, I'm shot! - Officer down! - Oh, that felt so good! Oh, shit! Oh shit! I was praying, I was praying to God, I was like, "Please give me a reason to shoot you." And you came through, bro! - What's wrong with you? You shot your partner! - Oh, there's one last surprise. I figured you still owe me, even after the vacation and everything. Look at this ` your wife. - Motherfucker! - (Ponch screams) - Pull them apart. Get in there! - I'm gonna kill you, Chacho! - I just gave her the attention you didn't, bro. You should've cuddled. You should've cuddled, bro. - Chacho, I'm gonna kill you! (determined music) (Jon screaming) (guns firing) (whistle blows) - Here we go. Get at it, girls! Let's go! Are you cat fighting? Come on, girls! Here we go, here we go! Shoot Kyle, come on! Baker, what the hell? It's a grappling exercise! - Oh my God! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. Dude, are you OK? Yeah, it's just he hit my bad knee. I've had some trauma, and then I just, I think I reacted, and my training took over. - I'm so sorry. - What training? - I'm sorry. - What training? - You know, just` - What goddamn training? - I don't have any training. - Get off the mat. Good punch. (tense music) (men cheering) - None of these aptitude scores meet even the lowest standards for graduation. In fact, most of the disabled cadets scored much, much higher. - They did? - Yeah, even in marksmanship. - Well, I don't doubt that. I mean, disabled folks are doing a tonne these days. Look at that Olympic runner with no legs. He killed his girlfriend, even, you know. Not that that's an accomplishment, but still, it's impressive, in its severity. - And then there is your physical. You've had 23 surgeries? - Yeah, I've had feet, ankles, knees, shoulders. And I have a titanium humerus from like here to here. It's pretty cool. - So, how do you feel? - You know, I feel pretty darn good. I'm on a pharmaceutical regimen. That helps a lot, you know. Except for when it rains. Those days are pretty rough. - Oh, I bet. - I don't think I could live in Seattle. - Jon, why do you wanna be CHP? - Well, OK, truth be told, my wife wants a separation. I lost my sponsors about a year ago and I've been just wallowing. And she understandably has lost her attraction to me. I can feel it when I look at her. Are you OK? I didn't mean to be a bummer. - It just triggered some... (clears throat) some of my stuff. - Oh, I'm sorry. I've got some of the same issues with my husband Ted. - I'm so sorry to hear that. - It's very painful. - This is Karen. She's a swim instructor. - Whoa! She's very beautiful. - Thank you. He is really good-looking, and he's handsome. - You are a very lucky man. - Thank you. Thank you. - So, how does CHP play into it, Jon? - You know, I learned in couples' therapy that women often marry their fathers, and her dad was a cop. - Ah, I get it, I get it. - Yeah. - Well, you can ride a motorcycle, I'll give you that. - Yes, ma'am, like a motherfucker. - OK, I'ma level with you, Jon. I like you. - Thank you. - You have nice eyes. - Thank you. - You remind me of my husband. - Thank you. - Tell you what, today's your lucky day. I'm gonna graduate you on a probationary clause, which means if you are not in the top 10% of your department for conduct, safety, and citations, you're a fucking goner. You got me? - Yes, ma'am, loud and clear. - Don't fuck this up. (sirens blaring) (fast-paced music) - Pull to the right. - Three nine to base, three nine to base, where's 704? - How they gonna force us off the highway, then block the fucking exit? (tense music) - LT? Clear? - Hey, hey, hey. You think that door's gonna evaporate and not kill that woman right there? - Oh, Dad, what woman? - You're high, right? It's noon and you're high already. - Lay off, Dad. - (Woman In Red SUV) No, no, no! Please, no! (woman screaming) - It's gonna be OK, ma'am. You're gonna be home with your cats in no time. - Clear! - (Armoured Car Driver) Oh, shit! (armoured car exploding) - EAGLE-6, EAGLE-6, we have an 11-80 at the 210 and Lowell. - EAGLE-6 responding to 11-80 at 210 and Lowell. (helicopter whirring) (tense music) - LT, what's going on? This ain't the plan. What are you doin', man? - You and TJ skimmed 200 grand off the last job. You think I wouldn't notice? (engine revving) - They're on the ramp, on the ramp, TJ. Two bikes. Dispatch, this is EAGLE-6. We have four suspects on two black motorcycles heading eastbound toward Pennsylvania Ave. (gun firing) Shots fired, shots fired! - Let's see how much your boyfriend loves you. - Oh my God, he's got David. - Who's David? - One of you is gonna die. You choose, thief. - Thief? Fuck does that mean? - I let you on my crew, and you're gonna steal from me? It's you or David! - TJ! Hey, hey, TJ! Buckle back in! - Don't jump, TJ! Don't jump! - TJ! TJ! TJ! (body thudding) - You've got two weeks to get our money back, or you die too! You understand? (upbeat music) (car chugging) (elevator dings) - Clay! Dude, you're back already, dude? That's great! - Yeah, let me tell you something. It's gonna take two surgeries just so I can lift my children again, you fucking asshole. - Whoa! That's a weird way to thank me for saving your life, buddy, but you're welcome! - Oh, shooting me was an act of kindness? - Absolutely! - You should allow me to return the favour. - Oh yeah, but Hector's got your gun, how are you gonna shoot me? - Hey, you're a bad partner! - Yeah? You're incompetent! - You're a bad person! - You're not even an agent. - Bad agent! - Clay, go home, go home! - By the way, you're gonna want to alternate between heat and ice. - 20 minutes each side. - Shut up, let's go. - Get over here. - Fucker. - CHP Internal has asked for our help on that armoured car job. They think some of their own were involved. - What, the one where the pilot jumped? - Yeah, or maybe the copilot pushed him. They don't know. - How many cops do they suspect? - Five. We need to find them. - How much they get? - 12.6 million. - (Ponch whistles) Truck had just left Santa Anita with the cash take from the Breeders' Cup. - So you want me to go out there and ask some questions? - No, I want you to go on the inside. - No shit? Go undercover within the department? That's awesome. - Can you ride a bike? - Why a bike? - The bad guys ride bikes. Can you? - Oh, I dominate anything with a motor. - Don't get cocky. I'm serious. - I'm not cocky, either. Dude, give me a snow blower, step the fuck back. A weed-whipper? I own that shit! - Listen, we need to talk about you shooting Allen and the photos of Hector's wife on your phone. There's gonna be a panel. - Oh, Allen's a pussy, we both know that. I mean, he handed over his weapon to a detainee. Why don't you review him? - Well you need to bury it. Because he's leading the investigation out in LA. He's gonna be your point. - Don't send that clown, please. - You think everybody since Glade was a clown. - No, but he is a real clown! - You're acting like a fucking widow. Get over it. - Sorry. - And how do you explain the pictures? - Well, I can't help it if someone sends me unsolicited photos. Like, how am I gonna stop that? - So, you had nothing to do with it? - I mean, aside from being handsome and symmetrical, no. - So, you're not to blame for the cock shots your phone sent to her phone? Or did your phone take them while you were asleep? Because your dick looked wide awake. - See, at the time, it seemed like the more innocent option. Like it was less wrong than actually ploughing her. - Good! So you didn't have sex with her? - I did. Eventually, I did. That's why I said, "At the time". - That's the defendant's wife! The defendant in your case! - I hear you loud and clear, sir. - I really hope you do, because I'd hate to lose a great agent over some bullshit. I think you're a sex addict. - I understand, sir. So, who am I playing? - They got you playing, uh... You're gonna be Francis Llewellyn Poncherello. - That's a fucked up name. That's a lot of names. - Well, that's too bad because we already built the bio. What are we gonna do, go and change it? - Got it. - Your name is Officer Francis Llewellyn Poncherello and you're transferring from CHP in Redding. Captain Lindel will be the only person that knows you're FBI. She put you with a rookie named Jon Baker. And he won't know shit about shit, so you'll be able to drag him around without him getting suspicious. And stay away from that hot ass out there in LA. What's your job? - Find the five dirty cops. - That's right. Blend in. - Hey! What's up, I'm Jon. Jon Baker. - Francis, Poncherello. - Oh, you're Poncherello? - Yeah. - Yeah. - Awesome man, we're partners. - Oh, cool. - Yeah, let's kick this off with the real thing. - Oh, dude! - OK. - Slow down a little bit. - Sorry. - That was a bit much. - If you're homophobic or whatever, that's cool. - No, no, no. What? - I mean, it's not cool to be homophobic, but I totally respect your right to be. - Wait, you think I'm homophobic because I won't embrace a man in his underpants that I just met? Is that your definition? - But your reaction was really strong. Like borderline violent. I bet if I were a hot woman in a bikini, you'd probably be fine hugging me, yeah? - Your question is, "Would I prefer to hug a hot woman in a bikini "over a male stranger in his underpants?" And my answer to that will determine whether or not I'm a homophobe, like, according to you? - I think you've oversimplified it, but yes. I do. - OK. Here's my answer. I'm the senior officer here. You're the rookie that doesn't know his mouth from his asshole, let alone the definition of homophobia. So, from here on out, you're just gonna shut the fuck up and wait patiently for me to ask all the questions. Understood? - I got that. - Understood? - I understand. - I'm sorry. - Better. Better. - You know what, man, I think I'm a little nervous 'cause it's my first day and I have a lot riding on this. - Don't worry about it. - I'm trying to salvage my marriage-- - Did I ask you about your failing marriage? - Huh? - Just shut up and suit up, OK? - OK, OK. - No way. Come on, Jon Baker. "The Baker"? Hey, what's going on, dude? - Hey, Brian Grieves. - What the hell are you doing here? - I'm an officer. That's my partner, Francis Poncherello. - What's up, bro? - Dude, that is awesome! You know, my cousin competed against you in freestyle. I cannot tell you how many times I've seen you ride. Like, a billion. - Ah! That's so flattering. Who was your cousin? - Oh, Reed Junior. - Oh, God, yeah. - Yeah. - He was amazing. - Yeah. - Yeah, I wish he would've stuck with it. - Yeah, me too. - Yeah. - Yeah. - Yeah. - Well, hey, look, man, welcome. I cannot wait to work with you. - Oh man, do you ride? - Oh fuck yeah! - Oh, we're gonna ride! Awesome! - You too, Poncharrow. Buddy! This is gonna be badass! - It means a lot to me. - Hell, yeah. All right, later, man. - All right, take care, man. (siren blaring) (tense music) - Do you have a favourite artist? - I have a favourite size. Backpack. - We've just the piece for you. Piet Mondrian's Composition number seven 1941. 20 by 26 inches. And if you pay in cash, it's 14... million. - For this? - Mm-hmm. - Is it finished? - Indeed. You could roll this painting up and put it in your carry-on. No matter where you take it in the world, it's worth 14. There's no better way to get cash across the border. - Perfect, I'll take it. I don't have it, but I'll get you the 14. - Excellent. - Put that away. You're gonna get us pegged as slap-dicks, come on. - What's that? No, I gotta take notes. - Hi. - Good morning. - OK, everybody. We have a couple of new team members to welcome this morning. Transferring from the Redding branch is Officer Pantera. - It's Poncherello. Francis Llewyl Poncherello. - Hi, Francis. (class laughing) - You can call me Ponch. Ponch is fine. - Ponch. Much easier. And correcting me is Jon Baker. Jon has the distinction of being the oldest rookie ever. - Ooh. - By nine years. - Thank you, thank you. Oh, I actually have a rookie question, if you don't mind me interrupting. I was told that I have to land in the top 10% of my department in citations-- - It's a joke. He was just joking. - Great joke, Jon! Keep 'em comin'! (everyone laughing) - OK, we're having a problem with the fire extinguishers, people. Do you each have one in your car? Show of hands. Who has a fire extinguisher in their car at this very moment as we speak? - Gotta say this is pretty badass, yeah? Being all suited up for battle. - What, looking like UPS drivers? - Yeah, that's super cool. - Fuckin' go brown, right? - We don't look like UPS drivers. Do we? (phone ringing) - Hold up a second. - It's Roth. - You find out where she works? - On Riverside. - Hey. - Oh, hey! How are you? - Good, how are you? - Good. - Is that your Sport 1000 I'm seeing? - Yeah. You know what that is? - Ah. Just a little bit. I got a Paul Smart 1000 myself. - Oh, I love those. Those are beautiful. - So beautiful. I've been looking for one of yours for a while, though. - Car wash in the Valley? - Yeah, Happy Hands. - OK, send me the address. - If you're interested, you should ride up Angeles Crest with us to Newcomb's Ranch. Beautiful ride, tonne of Ducatis. - God, I'm so flattered 'cause you're crazy attractive, but I'm trying to repair my marriage right now. - Oh, my God. Really? - What? - First of all, you're old as fuck. Second of all, no one wants to hear about your marriage troubles, OK? So, maybe you just want to get over yourself a little bit? - Good work. - I wasn't-- - Good work. No, you're just blending right in. Perfect. (car beeping) - I just hope he's not a crazy stalker or something. I mean, he knew I had cats. - Crazy. It's probably like a lucky guess or something. Did you hear any names? - LT, what's going on? - Yeah, someone called him "LT." - How about the pilot? Did he seem to fall, or was he pushed out? - No, I just saw him... land. - Oh no, no, no, don't go back there. No, no, no it's fine. You know what? Nobody's going to get away with this. I promise, OK? - Is your friend ticketing me? - One down! - Hey! Jon! What are you doing? - What am I doing? - What is this shit? - No, no, no, hey. This car doesn't have plates. - No, because it's brand new. Can you not see it's brand new? - Listen, I've got to write some tickets,... - They're coming! ...or I'm going to blow my probation and I'm gonna get canned. - But you gotta use your brain. They just bought this car. - We're up, we're up, we're up! No seatbelt. Red Ford! - No, we're not up! You're getting ticket-happy! It's just a seatbelt! No! - Mount up. - No, stay right here! Jesus Christ. (sirens beeping) (Jon whistles) Ponch. - Is your partner OK? - He just got assigned to me, you know? - Right. - You transfer from Redding? - Yeah! Ponch. - Ray. - Nice to meet you. - You must know Bob Lynn? - Of course. Asian Bob, everybody knows Bob. - "Asian Bob"? - Yeah. - Asian Bob? - Thought he was English or Scottish or something. - Oh, you're talking about Bob Lynn, L-Y-N-N. I thought you were talking about Bob Lin, L-I-N, who's Asian as hell. I think he's 100%. (people chuckling) But to answer your question, yes. I do know white Bob. - We haven't met, I'm Gay Terry. - (everyone laughing) I'm sorry, Irish Gay Terry. - That makes sense, that makes sense. - Whoa, whoa, whoa! - Don't do that! Hey! - (everyone laughing) - OK, this is a prank. - Yeah, I wish it was a prank. - Buh-bye, Francis! - You have to be playin'. - Backing up, you don't even look? - Everything's gone to shit, that's how it's gone. Hey, I need the address of the pilot that jumped. And I also need a profile made for a Bob Lin. L-I-N for the last name, and he's got to be super Asian. - Got it, Bob Lin, super Asian. - OK. Fuck. You got it, bro? - Huh? - All right. You can do better. Just saying. Excuse me? You're preapproved for a secure Gem car loan and you're still winding your windows down by hand. You won't miss out when you find the car you want, with approval before you buy and a rate from 9.99% fixed per annum. You can do better too. I ride a bike. You can do better with Gem, powered by Latitude. Apply today. * - We're the Highway Patrol. Shouldn't we be patrolling a highway? - I'm paying my respects to the widow of a fallen officer. It's going to take me all of two minutes. - OK, listen, I have one shot at saving my marriage, OK? This job is crucial to that. - I couldn't care less about your wife, but stay with the bikes, OK? And don't ticket anybody. - OK, and fuck that. Not a chance. - Excuse me? - I'm not letting my partner fly solo into an unknown environment. - Well, you're not going let me or not let me do a damn thing. You're a rookie! - OK, I respect your rank, but I am not letting you enter a domicile while on duty without me at your six o'clock. It's a nonstarter, Ponch. - Christ! - It's unsafe. - Fine! Just keep your mouth shut! - OK. Listen, I do need to warn you, though. I sometimes get nauseous in people's homes because of the mix of smells, the pheromones of food and pets. - You're fuckin' weird, bro. - I don't remember Terrell ever mentioning a Pueblerro. Is that Native American? - It's Poncherello. - I don't remember that either. - Yeah, I just wanted to stop by and give my condolences. - Please don't touch anything in the salon. - I was just so shocked. I mean, I've known TJ for years and I just can't imagine him jumping out of a helicopter. Plus, I've always wondered, was TJ dealing with some kind of depression? - Certainly nothing I knew of. We were very very happy. - Right. Did he owe anybody any money? (cat meowing) - Absolutely not. He left behind a savings account. No debts. (cat coughing) - I think I'll get some fresh air. (Jon coughing) - Sorry about him. Was he happy working with Parish? Did they get along? - You know, I have an appointment I need to get ready for. - Right, yeah, me too. I gotta go visit LT. - Who's LT? - Just a mutual friend. I'm sorry. (cans clanking) - Get outta there. Get outta there, dude! - Huh? - Get outta there. Jesus. - Man, I hope you got closure in there. - Closure? - Yeah, because I almost lost it when that cat went face-first into the litter box. Ugh! - What kind of dude uses the word "closure"? What, are you a therapist? - No. But I've been in couples' therapy for a year and that's what it's called when you try to resolve painful feelings. - I could tell. - Isn't that why we're here? So you could process the passing of your friend? Which, by the way, I am so sorry for your loss, man. - Oh, my God, dude. - So sorry. - What? - It's just your word choice. It's like you're three beers too intimate. You know what, it's the pills. - Oh, OK. - Yeah. - Textbook deflection. - Oh! - You couldn't be more cliched if you tried. "I'm a tough motorcycle cop. "I got no emotions. I don't care who dies." - Fuck you. Fuck you! - Your buddy's been dead how long and you still haven't dealt with it? - He's been dead a month, Freud. - A month? - Yeah. - That's weird. - What's weird, dude? - It's weird that his wife moved on in a month. - In your expertise, she's moved on. How can you tell? - Well, there's nothing of his in that house. There's no commendations on the wall, no pictures of him and his buddies fishing. There's no tools. He was a helicopter pilot without a work bench or a tool box? And no gun safe? What cop doesn't have a gun safe? It's just weird. Feels like he didn't live there. Bro, I gotta hit the Arby's at the bottom of the hill man. I'm on E. OK? - Yeah. (tense music) Huh. - Hello? - Hey, Roth? - Yeah, what's up? - Yeah, find out if TJ owned another property, like a rented or leased. - No problem. - What's going on? - Huh? - Why are you in front of my partner's house? - Oh, just giving my condolences. - You knew TJ? - Yup. The Academy. - Really? What year was that exactly? - Why are you shaking me down, man? I mean, first at lunch and now here? I mean, I was friends with TJ. All right, we were friends, and I thought we'd get along too, but if you're going to be up my ass, then I'll just keep it movin'. - This is my partner's widow. I see you around this house again, I will be in your ass, with a boot. - Yeah, yeah, be well, bro. - Yeah. - Bro, that's quality beef. - Hey, before you go writing another tyre pressure ticket, tell me what kind of bikes these are. (bikes revving) - It's the Ducati Hypermotard, the 939. It's their all-terrain race bike. - How could you know? You haven't even seen it. - Just listen. You hear that? It's a big V-twin. - Yeah, but a lot of people make twins. - Yeah, but that one's revving at 9000 RPM, which only a four-valve motor will do. The only four-valve twin in a supermoto setup is the Ducati. They're fast as fuck! # All I wanna do in the middle # # Of the evening is hold you tight # # Rosanna, Rosanna # - Hey, Jon, can I tell you something? It was pretty impressive the way you were able to peg those bikes back there. I think if you would just chill for five minutes, man, we can have a winning team. You know what I mean? - LA-15-7-MARY-3 and 4,... - Hey, hey! - ...we are in pursuit of red Ferrari. Code three! - I was trying to give you a goddamn compliment, man! # Meet you all the way # # Rosanna, yeah # # Meet you all the way # - This is 7-MARY-4, we need backup. All units. Pull over! # On the other side # - Oh, yeah? Rock beats scissors, over! # Rosanna, Rosanna # # Not quite a year since she went away # # Rosanna, yeah # - Jon, stop! - Yeah, one second. - Stop! - One second. - That's an order! - Licence and registration. - What are you doing, boy? Could you not see what I was holding up? - OK, lower the music, please. # Meet you all the way # - "CHP Widows' Fund Gold Donor." What is this? Are you a widow? - Hey! - One second! - Turn down the music! - Please turn it down. - If you keep ignoring me, I'm gonna write you up for insubordination. Do you want to keep this job? - If we don't stop doing your errands and do some police work, I'm not gonna have a job to lose. - Excuse me, I'm not gonna have my day eaten away by two bickering old ladies. - Shut up, and turn down the fucking Toto, please! Stay in this car. - Sir! - Stay in this car. - No, I spent $10,000 to the Widows' Fund to get that thing. - OK, well now it's mine! (sirens blaring) - Sir! - Give me the gun! - Get against the car! Get up against the car! You want to do this? I'll do it, I'll do it. - Oh, you're in so much trouble. - I'm trained to do it, and I know how to do it. You know how dangerous it is to drive at that speed? - Hey. - Hey. - Is this your "get out of jail free" card in Los Angeles? - Oh, no, it's from the gold donor programme, used to be a guaranteed warning. We usually just tell them that the policy ended, and let 'em go. - Oh. - We should grab a drink. - Really? - Mmm-hmm. - OK, come with me, come with me. You're gonna take a free ride now. - Come with me, sir. - Thank you. - I got it. - What? You got it? Well, why are you taking him this way? - There's been a change in policy sir. This is your one freebie. - Thank you very much. - Whoa, hey! Hey, what are you doing? - Just go, go, go, go, go! - You can't let this obnoxious prick go! - Just get in the car, sir. - No, no, no, no, no! You're getting back in the cop car. - Dude, let go of him! - You let go of him! - Dude, he's old as fuck! - Let go! - Yeah, I know he's old, and he's fragile. Stop fucking jerking on him. - No, you are! (Jon screams) - Get him, Francis! - What the fuck, bitch? - I'm trying to fucking blend in here, man. I suggest you do the same, OK? - A, you're a coward and a cheap-shot artist. B, I have to write tickets... (car revs) ...and be safe and good conduct! - Stop being a goddamn boy scout, man! Get on your bike and go home! Go home! You're done for the day! (pills crunching) Get outta here! - This is so hot. - I like that little brown one. - I would take either. You're preapproved for a secure Gem car loan and you're still winding your windows down by hand. You won't miss out when you find the car you want, with approval before you buy and a rate from 9.99% fixed per annum. You can do better with Gem, powered by Latitude. Apply today. * (horn honking) - What are you doing here? Hey. Get outta here. We question the guard from the armoured truck. - After you interview Barton, find out if someone named "LT" works here. - Barton's been MIA since-- - Don't tell him shit! Who's "LT"? - He's the shot caller. I heard it from one of the witnesses. - You're talking to witnesses now? You're supposed to be undercover, getting the co-pilot story. - Don't worry about it. We're getting cosy, and by the way, my new partner's awesome! - Bet you can't wait to shoot him. You know what? I'm point, motherfucker! I'm point. - Well then go-- - I'm your boss! Get outta here! (tense music) - Officer. - Looks legit to me. - I don't really care what this says. Hansen just saw him at All Steel Armoured. What about his partner? - There's no way Baker could be IA. He was a fucking X-Games guy a few years back. You don't like it. - No, I don't like it. My son's addicted to heroin. I gotta get him out of this fucking town. It's the only way he's ever gonna get clean. - Well, let's just figure out another way to move the money. - And try to fly with cash? You kidding me? The painting's the best way to walk through customs with $14 million. It's beautiful. - All right, well, then, fuck it. Even if they do show up, they'll be riding lawnmowers. - Search Bob Lin. L-I-N. - All right. - Oof! Asian as hell. (Karen screaming) (water splashing) (Karen laughing) - Hey. - Hi, what's up? I'm right in the middle of giving a swim lesson. - Oh, sorry. - What are you wearing? - Oh, it's my uniform. From the CHP. - Aren't you supposed to change out of it after you get off work? - Yeah, you can. I mean, probably most guys. You know, it was my first day, so I thought you'd probably wanna see what I look like. - In all brown? It's great, Jon. - I thought maybe it would remind you of your dad. (Rick screaming) (water splashing) - Oh, while I have you, you used the patio last night to cut through to the guest house. Let's stick to the agreements, OK? Use the side entrance. Can you do that? - Yeah, sorry about that. - Hey, Jon! - Hey, Rick. - You working down at UPS now? - No, man, I'm a police officer. (slow melancholy music) - Hell, yeah. Hey, can we get a to-go box? It's for your shirt, bro, so you can eat it later. (both laughing) - Classic Ponch-y. - Yeah. - Always deflecting! - Oh, deflecting. Why don't you stop using that word? - Do you even know what the word means? - Yeah. - Because I got a great example for you. - OK, give me an example. - It's when a guy is super embarrassed about taking his third dump before 11 a.m. so he makes fun of his partner's shirt. Deflecting. - OK, why are you counting how many times I go to the bathroom? - Hard to miss, man. - It's really pervy, man. - Oh, it's pervy? - Yeah. - We're on and off these bikes every half an hour, so you can go in there and unload. - Why don't you drop it? - Admit it. You have something going on intestinally and you're too proud to stop at a Walgreen's or a CVS to deal with it. Is it a chronic thing, or did you eat something dicey last night? - Just drop it! - Listen, OK, don't pull away. I'm worried about you. Is there any blood? (engine turns) OK, you know what? - Fucking blood, unbelievable. - We're gonna talk about this. (tense music) Dude, I will run in and get you some Imodium if you're ashamed, OK? Take the olive branch and accept some help, OK? Come on, Ponch! (engine revving) Ponch, slow down! You're not good enough to ride this fast. - I'd rather crash and die than talk to you. - You clearly have a health issue, like Crohn's or colitis. I won't bring it up again. Just, please, slow down. - I don't have colitis, and there's other goddamn reasons for going to the bathroom! - Yeah, but for 20 minutes? Even a prostate thing would be like... Oh, my God! Are you stroking yourself three times a day in communal bathrooms? - Drop it! That's an order! - Ponch, you're gonna crash! (suspenseful music) - Code Four! We are a Code Four! - Kiddo. Mask up. Clear! (truck exploding) (sirens wailing) - He's got a gun! (gun firing) - Fuck! (people screaming) God damn it! Where'd they come from? Let's go, let's go! - Look, I'm sorry you crashed, man. I tried to warn you. - I don't wanna talk about it. - OK. Look, man, just, real quick, I wasn't trying to embarrass you. We all have sex issues. I haven't slept with my wife in a year. But when people have over sexualized behaviour like yours, sometimes that's evidence of past childhood trauma and I just wanted you to feel safe talking to me. - There's been no trauma, OK? And my goal in life isn't to feel safe talking to you. What I do and how many times I do it in the bathroom, that's personal, OK? That's my business. That's not our business. - I'll stay out of it. - OK, good. - But, if something did happen, I just want you to hear me. It's not your fault. - Nothing happened, bro. - It's not your fault. - Nothing happened. - Are you positive? - I'm positive. - OK, if it did-- - If anything, you should worry about your shit. - My shit? - Yeah. - Oh, what's my shit, Ponch? - Well, Jon, if you haven't been fucking your wife in over a year, then somebody else has. It's not even a question of if, it's a question of who. Who's been fucking your wife? - LA-15 to all units. 211, Eastbound 101 on-ramp at Cahuenga. Armed suspects fleeing on motorcycles. - Oh, oh, oh, come on, come on! It's three exits over! Come on, let's go! I'm sorry, come on! Help me with the bike! (engines revving) (fast-paced music) (sirens blaring) - Jesus Christ! - All right, go around me. You won't make it. - Bullshit, I can ride! - You crashed eight minutes ago on flat pavement. - Jon and Ponch, what's your 20? - I'm northbound, through Elysian Park. (Ponch screams) Ponch is southbound. - Change of plans, I'm going around! - This is 7-MARY-4, we're heading towards some kind of fair. - 7-MARY-4, we're right behind you. - I'd just moved the stuffed animals closer to the dunk tank, but other than that, everything looks spectacular. (motorcycles chugging) - What the fuck? (people screaming) (robber screaming) - Freeze, get on the ground! Cool it! God damn it! Please! - Go, go, go! (gun firing) (glass shattering) (people screaming) - Call 911! - Who are they gonna call? Different cops? - They're heading south on Stadium Way! - I'm on Stadium Way. Where are you guys? Stop! I said stop! Stop, motherfuckers! - Great job! - I'm not gonna empty my weapon without cause. - If this was a public bathroom, you'd be shootin' your weapon all over the place. - (Woman In Helicopter) EAGLE-6, the suspects are on Stadium Way, approaching Riverside. (sirens blaring) - Come on, you piece of shit! - What's happening? - These bikes'll never catch those. They're just walking away. Come on! - Those bikes must be going 150. - We're maxed at 130. - 7-MARY-3 to EAGLE-6, what is your status? EAGLE-6! Wake up! What is your status? - 7-MARY-3, shut the fuck up! - I don't see 'em. You got 'em? - Negative. - (Woman In Helicopter) Shit, where'd they go? Jon, you got eyes? - No. - Dude, do you see them? - No. - Yeah, well done, EAGLE-6. Yeah, fantastic! # And I # (driver screams) (truck screeching) - Ponch! # Love you # # I # (truck exploding) - Holy shit! That was fucking close! Hey. Dude, I just wanna-- - (grunts) - (groans) (sirens wailing) That's for kicking my knee. Fucking hurt my feelings. Big, bold volume? Colossal Mascara from Maybelline New York. Volume so big, so bold, so instant, it's colossal, just like New York. And create infinite looks with new Lemonade Craze palette, only from: * (slow-paced music) (phone beeping) - Fuck. - Hey, it's Jon, leave me a message. - Hey, Jon, I said I'm sorry, man. Stop declining my calls. All right, call me back, bud. - All right, y'all. It's gonna feel like we living in Seattle tomorrow morning as rains are expected throughout the Southland. (thunder rumbling) (Jon groaning) - Fuck. Oh. Fuck. Oh, rain. Shit, shit. Karen! Sweetheart! - # Come on get high and loosen my lips # - Karen! - # Faith and desire # - Karen! - # At the swing of your hips, just hold me down hard # - Karen, can you come in here... - # And drown me in love # ...and bring me my pills? - Is that Jon? - Probably. - Karen, can you help me? - Should we not help him? - This is how he gets attention. So, no. Give me that moustache. - Sweetie! - Shit, shit. (Jon groaning) (bone cracking) Oh, oh, oh! OK. OK. OK, OK. Fuck! OK, OK. OK. - My guy at the Bureau says there's a panel on him and his name is Castillo, not Poncherello. - Oh, shit, Baker's calling me. - Ignore it. - Dispatch. Good morning. It's Officer Jon Baker, and I was wondering if you could patch me through to Ava Perez. It's an emergency. - So, let me get this straight. You thought it was inappropriate to go on a motorcycle ride together and now, I'm supposed to come over to your bedroom, help you from your bed into your bathtub so you can pop some pills and loosen up? - Yes, ma'am. - And I'm guessing you're undressed. - I am not dressed. That is correct. What do you think? 10, 15 minutes maybe? - I will not be right over. All right, have a good one. - Ava? - There was no record of an LT working at All Steel, but I did get a hit on that property search for TJ. Turns out they filed an eviction notice yesterday for an apartment he cosigned on. - Oh, nice. Text me the address. (phone ringing) Buddy. - Oh, my God, dude. I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. - Oh don't worry. - I thought I was gonna have to call 911 or something. - No, no, no, don't worry about it. Do you need water? What do you need? - I don't need any water, but I gotta get into that bathtub soon. - Bathtub. If you could carry me over there. - Wait, excuse me, what did you say? - I need to get into some warm water, or I'm gonna be stuck on this floor all day. So, just carry me over there and pop me in the tub. - Yeah, I can't do that. - What do you mean, you can't do that? - Physically, I can do that. But I'm not gonna carry your naked ass into the tub. You got a curtain on, bro. - Are you kidding me? I saved your life yesterday. - Oh, my God! I knew you were gonna bring that up! - Of course I brought it up! - I knew you were gonna bring it up! - I saved your life, you won't even carry me! - Dude, I'll do anything else! I'll do anything else! I'll clean this fucking pigsty, but I'm not gonna carry you there. - You wouldn't be standing here! You can't even lift me up and take me to the tub? - You know what? I'll drag you there, but I'm not gonna cradle you like a newborn, OK? I'm not gonna do that! - OK, you're gonna drag me there? - Yeah. - Once you drag me there, you have to lift me up into the tub, anyway. - Oh God. So just grab me and get it over with. - Fine, fine! - You're such a homophobe. Look at you, you won't even-- - Stop calling me that! - You won't even look at me! - You'd have to be gay for me to be homophobic towards you! You're using it incorrectly and irresponsibly! - Argh! Ow! - God, you're fucking hurting me, man! - Let's just get it over with! - You're making it worse! - Come on! - I'm not gonna argue semantics with you. (Jon screaming) - Oh, oh, God! - Oh, my God, dude! - Oh, no! - Grab the curtain! Grab the curtain! - I can't look! - Go, go, go, go! (face thudding) (thunder rumbling) - Oh, my God, dude! Oh, man. - I'm sorry, bro! Did you break anything? - No. You OK? - I don't think so. - OK. - Oh, my gosh! Hey, man. - Yeah? - Did I feel you face-plant into my pubic mound? - No, no, no, no, there was no contact, dude. There was no contact whatsoever. - Are you sure? Because I could've swore I felt either your nose or your lips? - No, nothing touched, bro. Nothing touched. (Jon groaning) There might have been like a little bit of contact. (both laughing) - I fucking knew it! I felt it! You face-planted my bag! - I think this is God's way of getting back at me for all the shit that I said about your wife yesterday. That was really shitty of me, man, I'm sorry. - It's all right. - Yeah, but still, if someone would have said that shit to me, I wouldn't have risked my life to save theirs 10 minutes later. I mean, it's pretty unbelievable. (thunder rumbling) You know you're the second person to save my life? - Yeah, who was the first? - My ex-partner. Agent Glade. - Agent Glade? What do you mean, Agent Glade? I'm FBI. - You're FBI? - Yup. - Are you working the armoured car jobs? - Oh, I'm not working them. We're working them. Oh, you were right about that helicopter pilot that jumped. He had a second home. And there's no way he could afford it on a cop's salary. He had to have been dirty. We gotta go check it out. - You get in this tub with me right now. (Ponch laughing) I'm gonna wash you from head to toe, Ponch-y. - You need help? - Huh? - Help? - No, I got it. - No, you got it? - You sure? (Jon grunting) - I'm good, I'm good! - Oh, God! - Sorry. - Come on! - Yeah, they moved all this stuff in on a Sunday, but I don't think they actually ever slept here. - They? Another woman? - No, it was a man. His partner. You know. - Oh, yeah, yeah. - Yeah, we dig. - Where's the workbench? - Is there a garage? - Yeah, yeah, I'll show you. - Oh. - $5 says there's a workbench. - $5. (garage door clanking) - Gun safe! Workbench! $5! - Was his boyfriend on the lease? - Uh... Yeah. Barton. David Barton. - Oh, shit! - Who's David Barton? - That was the guard that was being held at gunpoint when TJ jumped, who's now MIA. - That's brutal. - Yeah. - His boyfriend was being held hostage by chance? - No, not by chance. No way, no way. I'm sure they were all working together. - So they must have fucked over LT. - We need round two with TJ's wife. See ya, buddy. (pills crunching) Jesus, dude, you eat more pills than Elvis. (thunder rumbling) - Hey, I know you were just joking back there, but I want you to know, I don't abuse my medication. - Oh, I wasn't joking. Like, OK, how often do you shit? - How often do I shit? - Yeah. - The normal amount. Like, every two or three weeks. - That's a problem. - What? - That is a problem. - That's the first sign of opiate addiction. - Why would I wanna shit more often? I mean, shitting is a total waste of man's time. - But it's not. Shitting is so good. It's man's last refuge. - I'm busy, please, don't come back. - No, no, no, Miss Jackson. We just want justice for TJ. Don't you want that? So, you were just trying to keep TJ's pension? Somebody knew about TJ and Barton, and they were using that against him. We'll need your help to see who that could be. (door closes) - If I see you around this house again, I will be in your ass... with a boot. Motherfucker! (glass shattering) - What are you doing? - I told you to stay away from here! - Oh! Ponch! - # What you want # # Baby I got it # - # What you need # - (wife screaming) - # You know I got it # - (cats meowing) - # All I'm asking # - My cats! - # Is for a little respect # - My babies! - # Just a little bit # - Get out, now! # Hey baby # - # Just a little bit # - (wife screaming) - # R-E-S-P-E-C-T # - Oh my God! # Find out what it means to me # - # R-E-S-P-E-C-T # - No, not the vases! - No, no, no, no! - (vases shattering) - # Take care, TCB # - Shit! Get over here, you punk bitch! # A little respect # # Sock it to me, sock it to me, sock it to me # # Oh yeah, a little respect # - Jon! - What are you doing? No, no, no, no, no! Put it back! Put it back! (screams) - Jon, stop! - What the hell! - Oh, oh. I am so sorry. We had no choice. - Except maybe that last one. That was a little excessive. - Do you have a vacuum? - All right, we're on the same team, man. Let's stop kicking each other's asses. - I'm not gonna let anyone fuck with my dead partner's widow. - Who all knew about TJ and Barton? - Listen man, I didn't know about that shit until just now, and we were partners eight years. - Well, the guy pointing the gun at Barton damn well knew. - Was he friends with an LT? - Which one? - There was more than one? - There's more than one LT? - You mean lieutenant, or someone actually named LT? - LT ` lieutenant. Lieutenant. - It was right there the whole time. * - Those are all the active lieutenants at Central. - OK. Geek. Weirdo. Woman, no. Woman, no. Nerd. Oh-oh! Of course! Ray Kurtz! Look at this psycho. Come on. Not a good guy, right? - Not a good guy. - Never sent a Mother's Day card, fucking hates koala bears. - Boom, that's our guy. - That's definitely him. That's the guy! - I should go get us some new bikes. Fast ones like theirs. - You're gonna get us new bikes? - No, I mean, not me personally. I can't afford them, but you got that fed money, right? - I do have that fed money. Yeah! (In Spanish) - Come on! Huh! - Perfecto, perfecto. Look at those! - All right, let's get out of here, man. - Huh? Oh, no, no, no, you gotta see the suits! I got us suits. - Suits? - Oh, you're gonna love this. (speaking Spanish) (guys laughing) What were you guys saying? - Huh? - What were you guys saying? - They just said they liked the bikes. - Oh, you guys built them, so, cool. Are you guys talking shit on me? What are they saying? - No, no, no. They're saying that-- - 'Cause it sounded like-- He was pointing at my dick, I feel like, and I heard "pequeno". I think is tiny, right? Or small, or something? - Oh, no, no, no. What he said is that you look so buff that you make the bikes look tiny. - Strong man! - But then he pointed at my crotch. - Because that's where the bikes go. - Oh. (everyone laughing) Of course, man! Well, thank you, dude. - You're pretty ripped, too. - Yeah. What'd he say? - He said, "You know what? "Ride safe." - Oh, cool, man! Thank you! All right, let's do it. Man, I really like those guys. We should get a beer with them. - Yeah, totally, man! I'm sure they would love it! - Why are they on those? And why aren't they wearing shit brown? - Yeah. - Watch this. I'm gonna make him give up his whole crew. - Wow! - We heard this was your spot. - Man, what is that? Like four, 450? That's like, "World's Strongest Man" shit. - I think it's, like, 350. - You guys kinda caught me in the middle of it. Why don't you come back in an hour and a half or so, when I'm gone? - No, right now is good. We'll just shadow you. - Are you gonna lift this? You're gonna lift this? Whoa! - Hey, how did you know about TJ? His wife didn't even know. And I can't imagine anyone trusting you with a secret. Not like that. - No. - Unless they were part of your crew. - I can't imagine anyone trusting you with their life, oh... Wait, your partner. He did, just before he got gunned down in front of you. - Oh, so you know something about me. I know something about you. In 24 years with the CHP, LT, you shot and killed five suspects. - Great job. Very thorough. - Very thorough. - You know what confuses me? - Hmm? - That you have an Italian name, Poncherello. - Mm-hmm? - Why didn't they give you a Guatemalan name or some Taiwanese, or whatever the fuck you are? - Yeah, and you know what's confusing to me? That in your file, there's no mention of you killing TJ, Brill, or Stevens. But I can put it in there, because I don't mind paperwork. - He doesn't. He loves paperwork. It's weird. - I don't really care. - You think I'm Haitian or Cuban, from Miami? I'm law, motherfucker! The old kind. If you had something on me, we'd be in the box right now, but you got nothin'! So, why don't you fuck off and get a motorcycle lesson? - God damn it. - What? - Shit! - No, no. Hey, you were great back there. - No, I wasn't. - Yeah, I loved that part when you were like, "I don't mind doing paperwork." - Now you're making fun of me. - That was tight. - Shut up! - Seriously. You couldn't have known he was going to go all silver back. I mean, that was impressive. - Dude, shut up, man. - He got scary. - No, he's not that fucking cool. - He's pretty fucking punk rock, that guy. I kinda like him. - Dude, no. He's not that fucking cool. - He was bench-pressing 450 pounds! - Oh my God, that was 350 pounds! - No way! - Would you stop? - Would you table it? He's not gonna talk, OK? That's the main point! We gotta get one of his crew that will. We need to fucking focus right now-- (slow-paced music) - Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, excuse me? - What? - Are you kidding me right now? - What's the problem? - You just said we have to focus, and you're already bird-dogging ass? Ponch, this is a problem. - I'm sorry, man. I'm just like kinda powerless when it comes to yoga pants. - OK. - Can you do me a favour? - Yeah. - Is there double-stitching on the side with a banana grundle? - A banana grundle? What's a banana grundle? - It's the fucking gusset, bro. It's the gusset. Come on! - OK, OK, OK. I'll look. I don't know these things, all right? - Yeah, I guess. Yeah, banana grundle. - Oh, my God, they're Lululemons. - Lulu what? Lululemons? What are Lululemons? - It's like wrapping on a woman's body, dude, that's what it is. - Here they come. - Act cool, act cool, act cool. - OK. Hey! - Hey, superheroes. - Hey. - Hey, are you OK? Do you need to find a toilet? OK. - I think so. - Do you think you can ride with that? - I don't know. - Let's you get out of this parking lot. You have a visible erection, let's go. - Oh, Dad. Can you just close it? - Come on, get up. Get up, get up. Come on, get up. Can't spend all day and night in bed in the dark. You oughta go to a gym or something, and get your endorphins pumping. - Yes, sir. Yes, sir. - Come on, you gotta stay healthy for one week. One week, stay outta trouble. We'll be surfing, drinking Mai Tais. Yeah? - Yeah. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna do it. - Yeah, there's no point in me doing this without you, you know? Yeah? - Yeah. - I love you, kiddo. - I love you too. (phone ringing) - Oh, shit. - AMEX just called to verify a $48,000 charge. What the fuck? - We needed new gear and new bikes. It's totally legit. - Legit? You gotta put in for that kind of money! Are you crazy? - No, it just seemed time-sensitive. - Seemed? You got a break, or were you actively in pursuit? - A break? No, I mean we have the guy. Ray Kurtz, he's our man. - Is he in custody? - Well, we don't have anything super concrete yet. - Are you joking? Allen's got a legitimate lead, and it didn't cost him a goddamn penny! - What? - He's walking around like he's some goddamn genius! - Allen doesn't have shit. - He found out there were marked bills in that 12.6 and he tracked it to a drug house in Venice. - Who's passing the bills? - Guy on a motorcycle. Five bills on separate trips, all late morning. - OK, what's the address? - No, no, no, no, no, no! They're already there. DEA cleared them, not you. You screw up a DEA operation on top of that 48K, your ass is gonna be back in Miami! - Wait, Clay's there, and I'm not? - You better stop working that California pussy and start working the case! - Oh, good, you're early. I'm glad you're here. We gotta run. - Hey, who's that woman in there? - Oh, she's still here? - Thanks for everything. - Oh, don't worry about it. - Call me. - Oh, OK. (Ponch faintly growls) I'm watching you. Oof. Oh fuck. - Good job. - You stayin' out here, bro? - Yeah, for sure. * (tense music) - That's gotta be them. - What? - That's gotta be them right there. - What is that, some kind of special FBI app? - It's Find My iPhone. I have Clay's password. - You don't have my password, do you? - Oh yeah, I do. The Baker, 1980. Yeah, that's it. - We just wait now? - Yeah, yeah. - Hey, can I ask you something? - Yeah. - OK. Look, I know we're becoming friends, and I don't wanna make you uncomfortable. - Right, right, right. - But that girl that was leaving your apartment-- - Yeah. - I just hope that you're not preying on girls with low self-esteem to feed your addiction. - Low self-esteem? - She seemed-- - What? - Well I mean, look, she was, and I'm being generous here, a two. - A two? - I hope you know she thinks she deserves more than a one-night stand. She seemed nice. - Oh my God. Are you crazy? That girl's an eight! - No. You think she's an eight? - How are you judging them? Like by their hair? Like how straight their teeth are? Like their skin? I don't understand. - Yeah. - That's really shallow, bro, come on. - What? - Tina's like, she's like really confident, man, like really really sexy. I mean, that's sexy. She's like a full-blown eight. - I hope you're right, man. - Real talk. She ate my butt. - I'm sorry, she did what? - She ate my butt. - She ate your? She ate your ass? - Yeah. - Oh my God. Did you eat hers? - Of course! - "Of course"? - Oh my God! - What are you talking about? - Dude, that's standard. - You think that's standard? - Absolutely. - To eat someone's ass? - Absolutely. - You think that's standard? - Yes. - That is not standard! - You know what it is? You've been married for way too long. Everyone's eating everyone's ass now. - There is no way everybody's eating everyone's ass. - Everyone's eating everyone's ass. - No, it's impossible! Everyone is not eating everyone's ass! - They are. - What about hygiene? - Oh, easy. If you go to the bathroom, and you see some baby wipes, green light. - OK, what if you don't see baby wipes? - I still do it. Fuck it, right? I'm only here once, you know? (motorcycle revving) - Oh-oh, is that our guy? Listen, listen, I gotta tell you something. I cannot shoot, I can't aim. - Are you serious? - Yes, I'm serious. - OK, don't shoot. I do all the shooting, OK? - OK, I'll corral them to you. OK. - OK, here we go. I'm gonna post up on the corner. Just let me know as soon as he's rolling. - Copy that. - Oh, this is gonna smell bad. (cat meowing) Oh, fuck. (muffled upbeat music) - Oh, whoa! - # You just don't know # Oh, oh, my God! - # How you make me feel # - (Jon coughing) (Jon vomiting) - Get down! Get down! Jon, get 'em! - Oh, shit! - Go, go, go! - Castillo's inside! Get down here! (fast-paced music) - Shit! Oh, no! God! - I'm so sorry. That was like being inside of a corpse! (engines revving) This is 7-MARY-3 and four. We're southbound on Lincoln Boulevard and Rose. In pursuit of red Ducati Hypermotard. (phone vibrating) (engine revving) (siren wailing) - Fuck that. - Get out of the way! Out of the way, police! Get out of the way! (tense music) Ponch, what's your 20? - I'm somewhere in the parking structure. I'm on a... Over and out! Shit. - Freeze! (gun firing) (gun clicking) Damn it! (gun firing) - Hey, why is he chasing you? - It went sideways. - Hey, where'd they go? - West! West! - Towards the ocean! - West! - You can't ride motorcycles on the beach! - What's on the other side of these dunes? - Well, the beach ends, and then it's Ballona Creek. - What do you mean, it ends? - Holy shit! (sirens blaring) - Ponch, we're exiting the LA river. - I'm on it. Where are you, buddy? - East! We're heading east, over the Four Street bridge! - Let's get those legs. Get the front. Hey! Hey, the bridge is closed! Hey! - Set up a road block on both sides and box them in. - OK, drive down 6th Street! Right here! (reporters chattering) (RV screeching) (Roth screams) (bodies thudding) - What was that? - It was paparazzi! It's fine! Go, go, go! - Fucking assholes! - LT, it's getting fucked. - Stay in character. (cart shattering) I'll make a hole! - Roger. (motorcycles screeching) - What's going on? - Training exercise. - No, come on, cop to cop, what is it? - Oh my God, you are a cop. Look at that. That's so cute. (motorcycle screeching) - Ooh! - Oh, shit. Oh, shit, he's fucking dead. (ominous music) (glass shattering) - Jon! Jon! (Ava gasps) Jon! (gun firing) (Clay screams) Shit! (officers screams) (cars crashing) (car exploding) - Oh, God. Jon! Hey, Jon. Oh fuck, OK. (sombre music) - Come on, buddy. Come on buddy. - EAGLE-6 to 7-MARY-3, which way did the black truck go? - No, no, forget that. Land the bird! Land the bird! Jon needs to be airlifted. - What's the call? - We're setting it down. (light gentle music) - Stay with us, buddy! Stay with us, Jon! Come on! * - Dr. Louis, extension 3426. - Jesus, booked the whole damn floor. - Hey. - Hey. - Looking for Jon? - Yeah, yeah, yeah. - Oh, he's just in there. - Oh, cool, cool. How are you doing? - Oh, body's a little sore, but I'm OK. They just discharged me. - Oh, good, good, good. Yeah, I was kind of scared when I saw your car Frisbee like that. Yeah, but, I'm glad you're all right. - Me, too. Well, Jon's in-- - Oh, yeah, right, that's right. OK, cool. - Text me when you get home? - I will, I will. See you in a bit. - Text me. - Dr. Tanaka to OR-3. Dr. Tanaka to OR-3. - Hi, it's Karen from SwimTech. Leave me a message. - Hey, Karen, this is, Ponch, Jon's partner. I'm with Jon at the LA Memorial. You should get here as quick as possible. He's not... He's in bad shape. (sombre music) (slow-paced music) How are you feeling? You sure? How's your body? Don't lie. Yes. Photographic evidence? Fuck, yeah. (phone ringing) Oh, shit. Ooh, nice toes. # When you walked # # Into the room # Wait, slow down. Slower, slower, slower # There was voodoo in the vibes # - Oh, fuck. - Just a little bit. - # I was captured by your style # Oh, wow. - I didn't know you had those. - # But I could not # # Catch your eyes # Wow, those look huge. Those look big tonight. Wait. (chimes chiming) No. (gasps) - They always look this huge, Officer Pantera. - Oh, oh my God! (screaming) - What was that sexy scream? Oh! Oh! Oh, no! - Someone prematurely ejaculated. - Oh no! Fuck! (phone shattering) Fuck! (ominous music) - Can you manage? - Got it. - Last one. - So, what's the plan now, babe? - The second Brian gets out of the hospital, you, Cooper, and Hansen, you head up to Big Bear. You wait for the Brunei flight. You get the painting and get out of there. - And until then? - Business as usual. They only know me. - Listen, Ray, I'm really sorry about, um... Do you want to talk about him? - No, I do not. Maybe after I take care of your little boyfriend. - So, he brings in a goat and a donkey-- (door shuts) - I'm gonna kill you. When I am healed, I am gonna physically destroy you. Get the fuck out of my room! Call Peterson, he's looking for you. - My phone's broken, I can't. - You torpedo the entire case, and you broke your phone. - I didn't torpedo it. We have a suspect's head, that's a victory. - Three officers and two agents are hospitalised, all for a severed head nobody can ID. That's a victory to you? - Listen, I'm sorry that I shot you again. I'm sorry. - Get on the bed! Get on the bed! You ever been in a scissor hold, motherfucker? Huh? - There he is. - Hey. - Hey, where's your breathing tube? That was a really sexy look for you. - Well, I also have a catheter in, and I didn't wanna be too sexy for the staff. - Yeah, tone it down a little bit. - Are you posted here? - I came to see you, dummy. And I just wanted to brag about saving your life. - You saved my life? - I gave you CPR, and I breathed life back into you. - So, when I went out cold, you ran in and tried to kiss me? And you said it was CPR? - (laughs) Not quite! That's a little gross, because you kind of remind me of my dad. - Wait, your dad was a cop? - Oh no, God, no. He was just a fuck-up, kind of like you. - Mmm, so flattering. - I was wondering, if, when you get discharged, if you wanted to, take a ride back home with me? I'm available. - I already left my wife a message, and I'm pretty sure she's gonna pick me up. - Is this the same wife that hasn't been here once? - You haven't met her. So, you know, I don't know. I'd appreciate it if you didn't, you know, bag on her. - Yeah. I'll see you around. - Fuck. - Pull a fucking gun on me? - I didn't know it was you! - You're not gonna answer your phone? You're gonna make me fly to fucking LA to talk to you? - My phone was broken. I was trying to activate it and I-- - I told you to stay away from that drug house! You gotta stop shooting Allen! - I didn't do it on purpose! I mean, it was an accident. I was trying to shoot Ray Kurtz. - Well, you missed, and he's gone! You fucked up this whole case, and when I called your captain to find out where you were, she told me she hadn't heard from you since you initiated a sexual exchange with her at one a.m. - That was my bad. That was on me. That was an accident. - You fucking pervert! - No, you know what, I-- - Nasty! - I was trying to-- - Just goddamn nasty! - I was trying to text with this girl, Lindsey and then I-- - You're fired! You're on the 11 a.m. back to Miami, and guess what, I'm keeping your gun. - Can we just go with a warning, instead of a full-fledged fire? - If you had been doing your job instead of looking at all this juicy LA booty they got out here, things wouldn't be so bad. - Hands down, the best app for meeting girls. I mean, I just keep swiping until I meet one. - No kidding? - Yeah. - Now, when you get intimate with these gals, is oral expected? Like, (stutters) with the butt? - Oh, yeah. That's standard, boss. - That's standard? - Yes, sir. - Wow, things have changed! - Hey, it was great meeting you Jon. - Hey, you too. - You have a good one, man. Be safe out there. - Yeah, enjoy that app, right? - (laughs) - Wow. - Hi, it's Karen from SwimTech. Leave me a message. - Oh! - Hey! - Oh, Ponch! Man, am I happy to see you! - I'm sorry about this, man. I just got my phone working. I got all your messages. - Dude, I'm so happy you're here. - Good to see you, buddy. - Thank you for coming. - Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm really sorry, man. I would've been here when you woke up, but I was buying a new phone. - No, man, it's good. I'm all good. - What do you mean, you're good? You got hit by a truck. - Yeah, but my titanium humerus took most of the hit. It was only a five. - Five out of what? - Out of 10. - Then what's a 10? - Scrotal tear, which I've had. Nuts unravel down your leg. It's gruesome. What?! - I know. - You sexted with Captain Lindel? - I did, I did. - Ponch-y, she's a senior! That's pathological. - She's old, she's up there. - How was her body? What did that look like? - I mean, it was tight. - It was tight? - She's confident, you know? That's sexy, I mean that's really sexy. - Whoa, whoa, what the fuck is this? - (Woman On Sidewalk) Put that right in the living room. - Hey, hey, hey! Whoa, whoa. - (Woman On Sidewalk) Thank you so much. - Excuse me, excuse me, hey. - Hey. - What are you doing? - We're moving in. Are you my neighbour? I'm Amy. - You're moving into my house, though. So, no, I'm not your neighbour. This is my house. - No, this was Karen and Rick's house, and now it's my house, because I bought it. (slow-paced music) - What's wrong, not enough chilli? - No, I'm just not very hungry. - Dude, I know you love Karen, but can I just say one thing about her? - Yeah. - Dude, she's an asshole. - OK. - She's a dick. Like, end of story. You know what, I actually figured out why you're so hell-bent on keeping her. - Yeah? - She's, like, the only thing left of your glory days. You know? Like, the money's gone. Fans are gone. Now, the house. She's like that last bit of proof that it even happened, and I think you're afraid that if you lose her, you've officially lost it all. - Wow. For a guy who won't say the word 'closure', that was a pretty profound observation. - Yeah. - Goddamn you, Ponch-y. - I'm, like, tired now. - Yeah, I wish you would've told me this five years ago. Ooh, that is career-ending. - You know what sucks? This is our only lead, and there's no way to track this guy. There's no dental records. He's never been finger-printed. - Oh, my God, dude! This is Reed Junior! - Who? - Reed Junior! I used to compete against him. - Reed Junior? - That's Grieves' cousin! - Grieves? What? - The dude I touched dicks with in the locker room. Remember? And he was talking about his cousin. - Yeah. What's his full name? - I don't know. He competed as Reed Junior. Type in "Reed Junior." - Reed Junior. - Raymond Reed. Ray Kurtz, dude! That's Ray's son! - Oh, my God! - That's Ray's son! - Oh my God! OK, oh my God! - Dude, oh my God! - No, we go! We leave, we leave! - We go, we go! - Holy shit! (suspenseful music) (gun clicking) (tense music) (taser clicking) (engine revving) - Slow down. - Captain Lindel. (slow romantic music) - Oh, my God. What took you so long? # When you walked into the room # - No! No, no, no, no, this is not what it's about. - Oh. - No, I was gonna say the head in the helmet, that's Ray's son, and Brian Grieves is his nephew, who's in the hospital. And we need to send people over to get him in custody ASAP. Also, I need a gun, and I need to be sworn in as an officer of the California Highway Patrol. - But you're an FBI agent? - I know, but I was fired. You know, your honesty was largely to blame for that. - Well, I'm sorry. I was feeling a little abandoned. - No, I get it, I get it. But can you swear me in? - I'll swear you in if you sexy scream. - No, just swear me in, please. Please? - You know the oath? (Karen sobbing) (camera shuttering) - When we get to the hospital, we do all the questioning, OK? - Yeah, yeah, OK. (phone ringing) - "Come now, just you and your partner." - What's that? - Look at this. (suspenseful music) - Are you sexting with Karen? - No, you idiot! She's handcuffed to a pole. She's being held hostage. - Oh, my God, oh my God. OK, he dropped a pin. That's where she's at. That's across the street from the Devil's Punchbowl. We gotta take the bikes. - No, no, wait, wait, wait! Let's just think about this. - What?! - Why are we gonna risk our life to save your dirtbag ex-wife's? She stole your house. - You kicked my weak knee, said my wife was fucking someone else, and I still saved your life. You save someone when you can, Ponch. That's what a person does, especially an officer of the law who just took the oath. - You can't even ride. - Listen, I've done back flips with worse injuries than this. - We're gonna need backup. - We don't know-- - Clearly, he blames us for Reed. - We don't know who in this department is in on this. I trust you, and you trust me. - That's true. - OK? - We're like Jay-Z and Beyonce. We're fucking ride or die. (tense music) - Shit. Where's Officer Grieves? - He was discharged an hour ago. - Well, did someone pick him up? - A police officer, female, super pretty. - Plane leaves Thursday at three p.m. out of Global Air in Van Nuys. There'll be a week's worth of provisions in the cabin. (gun clicking) - When should we expect you? - You should not. (engine chugging) - All right, spoke with the nurse, says that he left with a super pretty CHP officer. So, uh... It has to be Lindsey. - Yeah. - (murmuring) - She's radio silent right now, but GPS has her car 12 miles East of Palmdale. Let's do it, folks. - (officers chattering) (rock music) - That is some cold shit, man, riding the dead son's bike. - Well you kidnap my wife, I ride your dead son's bike. - Fuck him. # All day long I think of things # # But nothing seems to satisfy # # Think I'll lose my mind if I don't # # Find something to pacify # - How the fuck is that thing gaining on us? - He's a fucking warlock, man! Fuck! # Whoa yeah # (gun firing) - Whoa! - Hey, what are you doing? - I can't do it. I can't leave my uncle by himself. - No, he told us to hide out in the cabin. He was very clear. - Hey, well you're free to do that, all right, but you're dropping me off first. # I need someone to show me the things # - There's the Devil's Punchbowl! It's gotta be on the right. Here! # That make true happiness I must be blind # - What are you doing? - Looking for a chink in the armour. (tense rock music) Oh, bingo! - No, don't hit that! I can't jump! I can't make it! - You can do it! - You don't even know what's on the other side! - Well I know it's better than what's on this side. (gun clicking) (gun firing) Come on, Ponch! You can do it! Just do it, man! Just hit it! - Just full-throttle hit it, man. You gotta do it! - (Ponch screaming) Just come over! Come on over, OK? (bike crashing) You got this, man! You can make it! - I didn't make it! (Ponch grunts) - Dude, dude! You OK? You OK? - Damn it! - Fuck! - This way, this way, this way! Come on, she's over here, come on. OK, we're here. - Jon! - Yeah, yeah, it's OK. - Oh, Jon! - Oh, thank God! Oh thank God! I knew you'd come. Oh, thank God. - Oh, I need your gun! - I'm so happy to see you. - Yeah, yeah. - Dude, enough with the gratitude, OK? Let's go! - Yeah, yeah. (guns firing) (Ray coughing) - Go! Get in, get in! (gun firing) (Ponch screaming) - What, what, what, what? - Oh, my fingers! - Oh, my God! - Oh my God, he shot my fingers off! And it's not superficial! Look! - (Karen screams) - It's OK, it's OK! They can reattach them! Hey, hey, hey, they can reattach them! It's fine, it's OK! - No, they're gone, dude! They're gone! - All right, hold on, hold on! Let me see if I can see them. OK? OK, hey, hey! I see 'em, I see 'em, I see 'em! - Go get them. - OK, I'm going in! (gun firing) (tense music) - Oh, shit! Damn it! - Here, here, here put them in your pocket! - Put 'em in your pocket! There you go. - OK. - No, there's only two of them! - Huh? - There's only two! - Yeah, well you're gonna have to make do! Two is enough! - No, I want my fucking pinkie! (suspenseful music) (sirens beeping) - They're coming at us! - Go, go, go, go, go! (cars exploding) (man yelling) (gun firing) (lock clanking) - Go, go, go! - (Karen gasps) (Ponch grunting) - Get up, you fucking rat! Get up! Eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth! A fucking head for a head! (guns firing) - Cover me! (men grunting) - That was my son! (Ray grunting) (Ponch screaming) (Ponch screaming) - Oh, I'm sorry. (man screaming) - Oh, Jon, Jon, Jon! - Are you OK? - Yeah, yeah, take my gun. - What? No, no, no, you're a better shot than me. - How am I supposed to do it, man? Like Jimi Hendrix-style, with my fucking teeth? Take it! - Man up, Jon! - Yeah, OK, OK, I'll do it. I'll do it. Oh, shit. (gun firing) - Jesus, Jon! Just hit him, Jon! - OK, OK. You're hitting 10 degrees to the right. You gotta aim 10 degrees to the left, OK? Go! - OK, OK, OK. - Are you aimed 10 degrees to the left? - Yeah, but... - Fire! (building exploding) (gun firing) - Dude, that was 10 degrees! - No, it wasn't! That was more like 20 degrees! - Dude, you think he's in one piece? - Come on! (men grunting) - Stay down! Give me your fucking arm! Stay down! (tense music) - OK, what's your plan? The doors are all shut. - Where we're going, we don't need doors. (triumphant music) (water splashing) - Is this the same hole you crashed into earlier? - I think it is. (men grunting) - Watch out! Jesus! (Karen screaming) - He's up, he's up, he's up! - God damn it. - Go, go, go! - Go, go, go, go, go, he's getting away! He's getting away! - Put your hands behind your back. - Oh! - Now! - Oh, oh, oh! You didn't see that coming. - Hot and helpful! See, it's not either or. - Hey, Ray, how do those cuffs feel? - Repeat the question! Go ahead! - You're with this piece of shit? - Shut up! (gun firing) Let me get this straight. You knew that I killed three of my co-workers, but you thought it was OK to kill my son? - Uh-uh, uh-uh. No, no, no. Your beef's with the steel cable, not us. We were just chasing him. - You weren't as good as Reed. My son should be here with me right now. Not you. - No! (gun firing) - Whoa! - What the... Oh, my God, dude! - Oh, my God. Dude, that's a ricochet. (women grunting) - Whoa! - Stay down, gorgeous asshole! - Oh my, dude, your arm is straight up titanium, like the Terminator's arm! - Yeah, yeah, yeah, I told you. - Oh, whoa. Do you feel this? - Uh, yeah, a little bit. Like a two out of 10. - Whoa. - Get off of me! - You feel this? - (Ponch screams) - I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, sorry. - God, don't touch my nubs man! - I won't, I won't, I won't. Help me up, help me up. - Come on. (sirens wailing) Dude, we gotta find an ambulance. - Oh, we gotta get your pinkie! - Oh, duh! Dude, thanks. - Yeah, yeah. It's over here. Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop, stop, stop. Stop! Back up, you're on Ponch's pinkie! - I saw a look on your face tonight I haven't seen in years, not since you competed. I can tell you really like this thing, being a cop. - Yeah, I really do, maybe even more than riding. - Do you want me to ride in the ambulance with you? - No, I'm good. You're kind of a dick. I'm gonna ride with Ponch. Take care, Karen. - Hey, you all right? - Yeah, are you OK? You tackled her like crazy. - Yeah, I'm fine. I'm a fucking beast. - Hey, do you wanna ride with us? - It depends, are you gonna put out? - Yeah, ass, cash, or grass. I know the rules. - Hey, that's looking really awful. You want some morphine? - Dude, that'd be nice. - Excuse me, Ava? - Yes, Jon? - I'm really sorry I didn't take that ride home with you from the hospital. That was just a very stupid decision. - And I'm sorry I said mean things about your wife. Even if she is a piece of shit, it's just not nice. - It's OK. - Thank you. You look a little short of breath. Do you need some CPR? - So bad. - Yeah? - Really bad. (slow romantic music) - Oof. Aye. - I'm so proud of this guy. Get it, Jon. Get it. - Oof. (speaking in foreign language) - We should be good, though. - Yeah, yeah, yeah. You too, huh. Be classy, be classy. - Yeah, yeah, yeah. Always classy. - Let them do their thing. - Yeah, yeah, yeah. - Hey, hey, Ponch? - Mm-hmm? - Could you maybe speak in Spanish, so I don't understand what you're saying? - Yeah, no problem, no problem. - Thanks, boss. (Ava giggles) - I speak Spanish, pervs. (triumphant music) (phone ringing) - Yes, sir? - Hey, how'd you like to come back to Miami? I wanna give you your job back. - Yeah, I appreciate that, but I actually love it out here. # California love # # California, knows how to party # # California # # Knows how to party # # In the city of LA # # In the city of good ol' Watts # # In the city # # The city of Compton # # We keep it rocking # # We keep it rocking # # Now let me welcome everybody to the wild, wild west # # A state that's untouchable like Eliot Ness # # The track hits your eardrum like a slug to your chest # (sirens wailing)