MAN: Okay, we're rolling.
(buzzer sounds)
Let's go! (laughs)
(man speaks French)
Un, deux, et trois!
(whooping)
(yells)
Whoo!
Come back, come back!
Now!
Come together! Whoo-hoo!
And break!
Bye-bye!
Whoo!
(man grunting)
(panicked grunting)
(grunting continues)
(static crackles)
(screaming)
(loud thud)
(groaning)
(gasping)
Buddy, are you all right?!
Are you alive?!
(groaning)
All right, don't move!
Pierre! Oh, my God!
Where the hell is the ambulance!
Go, go call an ambulance! Go!
Okay, help, somebody!
Pierre, baby, baby, are you okay?
(siren wails)
It's all right, sir, do you feel your legs?
I'm gonna check his airway. His airway's good.
Sir, I'm gonna take your helmet off.
Careful. It's okay, sir. Do you know where you are?
(groans)
Let's get that airway. Let's get that airway package.
Let's get the backboard. Do you understand me, sir?
(indistinct radio transmission)
STOKES: We're crime scene investigators, Sheriff.
We don't normally get called out
on something like this.
But I'm telling you, this is a crime.
Look, I know the jumper, all right?
Pierre Delongue and I served together
in the French Foreign Legion.
What? It's a real thing.
Pierre's logged over 1,500 jumps.
He's absolutely fanatical about preparation and safety.
His school hasn't had a single citation
of any kind.
You know what? He-he's too careful
to have something like this happen by accident.
All right.
We're gonna need to talk to some witnesses.
I'll round 'em up.
(static crackles)
What do you got, Riley?
A helmet videocam.
I think it's still on.
(static crackles)
You gonna help us out here?
♪ Who... are you?
♪ Who, who, who, who? ♪
♪ Who... are you?
♪ Who, who, who, who?
♪ I really wanna know
♪ Who... are you?
♪ Oh-oh-oh ♪ Who... ♪
♪ Come on, tell me who are you, you, you ♪
♪ Are you!
STOKES: Ma'am, we just need to know what happened.
I'm sorry. I just... I'm really emotional about this.
I just need a moment.
It's okay. Take your time.
Did Pierre give any indication
that there was anything wrong during the jump?
I don't know what happened.
You know, we've made this jump, like, a hundred times.
Everything was going perfect.
We formed the star, backflipped, 360'd,
reformed exactly as planned.
We deployed, but...
he just kept falling.
(screaming)
Everything was perfect, it was like...
Well, did you ever do it?
Well, I've done a little paragliding.
Oh, you should try the real thing.
You know, bodies linked in air.
And... And the Earth coming at you like the fist of death,
and the wind is, like, it blows up your leg holes.
Pierre lived for that.
(car clanking)
(French accent): Bonjour.
They told me Pierre have an accident.
Yeah. Who are you?
I'm Max Girard,
Pierre's partner.
Pierre and I, we have a jump school there.
(helicopter blades whirring)
Is he dead?
He's at Desert Palm, man. He's in pretty bad shape.
(sobs) At least we can take comfort in the fact
that he died doing what he loved.
He's not dead yet.
MAX: Regard...
Pierre and I are brothers.
Not really brothers, but like brothers.
We come here
together from Belgium, we build this business.
What happened to your leg?
Same thing that happened to my car.
It's nothing.
I will go to see my partner.
I want to go, too. So do I.
Sir, we may need to talk to you later.
Where can we find you?
At the hospital.
At Pierre's side.
Hey, les deux, into the car.
(speaking French)
Go, go, go, go!
So what do you think?
I think if you jump out of a plane enough times,
that one day, one way or another,
your luck's gonna run out.
(bird screeches)
(birds calling)
When I first noticed Cathartes aura,
the common turkey vulture,
I assumed they were scavenging, some, uh,
large desert mammal.
When I got closer...
imagine my dismay.
(camera shutter clicks)
OFFICER: And exactly what were you doing
out here all alone, sir?
I'm a landscape photographer.
I used to be a bird-watcher,
but I gave it up-- too much death.
(flies buzzing)
The DB is a white male,
probably in his 30s.
Exposed flesh on the face, neck, arms, legs appears
to be scavenged.
The eye sockets are empty and bloody.
Uh, birds of prey always go for the eyeballs first.
Yes. They're moist, nutritious,
easily reachable, well before the hide has a chance
to ripen and burst.
The victim's clothing suggests a person of a religious
or ascetic nature.
The legs are folded
in the lotus position; he may have been
meditating when he died.
Amongst the various animal tracks,
consistent with the predation,
there is a single set of shoe impressions
leading to the body.
I swear, I never got any closer than this.
Will you lift your feet, please?
Officer, you walked in to check out the body
and walked out using your own steps?
I took a class.
There is a single set of barefoot human tracks.
I will document them,
determine whether they belong to the victim.
There appear to be no other tracks,
but judging from the sandy quality of the terrain,
it is possible someone walked in
and covered their tracks on the way out.
Such a lonely place to die.
What place isn't, my friend? What place isn't?
(liquid pouring)
We find at least a couple guys like this
out in the desert every year.
The sands tends to call out to the spiritually inclined.
It's all very biblical
and very dusty.
LANGSTON: He had plenty of water.
So I guess he didn't die of dehydration.
Hmm.
Pistachios. My favorite nut.
Salty and easy to open.
Speaking of which... shall we?
Indeed.
Nice ink.
"Holy Steven."
(Hodges chuckles)
"Spread the word. I am come."
And you is gone.
♪
Hey.
How's the jumper?
Well,
you could ask his pelvis,
which you will find in his rib cage.
His neck is broken,
his legs are broken,
his ribs and fingers are broken.
Basically, all of him is broken.
Is he still in surgery?
Yeah.
Okay.
Here's what I got.
This is Pierre's rig,
and this is an identical, properly-packed chute.
Uh, we know the EMS team
cut Pierre out of his rig before they moved him.
But the canopy is only connected
to the harness on one side.
That would've tangled the chute.
Main chute rip cord's here,
cutaway harness here.
Both were deployed.
Okay, hold on.
What's a cutaway?
Okay, the cutaway mechanism's designed
to release the canopy from the harness entirely.
It's not meant to be deployed
in mid-air, unless this
main chute here is tangled.
(Pierre grunting)
So if it was deployed,
why didn't the main chute detach completely?
Because of this pull-up cord right here.
It's designed to
crimp these straps together on the chute
while packing it. It's then released
before the jumper puts on the harness.
But on Pierre's chute,
a little piece of it's broken off,
preventing the three-ring mechanism
from releasing the riser.
So what you're saying is it's simple equipment failure?
If that were the only thing wrong, yeah, I would be.
But Pierre's reserve chute was still packed.
It failed to deploy, even though he pulled the reserve handle.
How do you know that?
Because of this little cable.
It's supposed to have a crimped cap on the end, like this.
Without it, the wire
goes through the reserve chute's D-ring
without activating it.
I'm telling you, the odds
against a double failure like this are astronomical.
I thought these guys were fanatical
about checking their own equipment.
They're supposed to be.
I'll swab these release mechanisms for touch DNA
and see if anybody else put their paws on Pierre's stuff.
I'm thinking somebody...
BOTH: ...messed with his chute.
Yeah.
All of the animal bites were postmortem.
I found teeth impressions-- probably coyotes
as well as beaked birds of prey--
but they didn't get very far.
He wasn't dead very long.
When I got there, rigor was still full.
Interesting.
Amoeboid-shaped bleed on the cerebrum.
Spans the junction of the motor cortex
and the sensory cortex. Hmm...
It runs deep.
Yeah, hematoma's definitely large enough to be COD.
Corresponds to this injury here.
That doesn't look like an animal bite.
More likely blunt force trauma.
You're saying someone cracked him on the top of his head?
Fall would have caused trauma to the forehead,
back or side of the head.
This injury's right on top.
He was sitting cross-legged when he died.
It's virtually impossible to fall
and hit the top of your head
from that position. (cell phone ringing)
Excuse me.
This is Langston.
BRASS: Hey, Professor.
Yeah, I was running a check on Holy Steven.
He wasn't hard to find.
He likes to preach at downtown shelters.
Anyway, his name is not, uh, Steven, by the way.
It's, uh, Mark VonGrovestreet.
Why'd he change it?
I have no idea.
Anyway, I have an address.
You might like to come along.
(man murmuring nearby)
(murmured chanting continues)
Hi. Las Vegas Police.
I'm Detective Jim Brass.
This is Ray Langston from the crime lab.
(chuckles): Welcome.
Welcome, welcome, welcome,
siblings.
Welcome to The Church of the Holy George.
And you are, uh...?
He.
George.
Here, please.
Thank you, George. Please...
What happened to The Church of the Holy Steven?
Oh, have you not heard the word?
No, The Steven is the divine Second Coming.
He is the mouthpiece and messenger
and clarion of God.
He's also dead.
Oh.
Yeah.
You don't seem too surprised to hear that. Why is that?
I had a vision that it was so.
Oh, really? Okay.
So, when was the last time you saw him?
I mean, other than your dream.
Huh?
(George gasps)
(murmured chanting)
George? (gasps)
Oh. (laughs)
Yes, The Steven and I
wandered in the desert for three days and two nights.
On the third day,
The Steven instructed me
to return to spread his word as my own
to the people of the cities and towns.
And he bestowed his staff
upon me, and then he continued on
into the desert alone.
(thunder rumbles)
(laughs)
I held his rod and staff,
and I saw that it was good.
(chuckles)
But then I wept, for I knew that Steven's quest
was for reabsorption
into the Total Animal Soup of Time.
You mean you knew that The Steven was going to die?
Oh, no.
There is no death, only transmogrification.
Well, that's a relief.
(laughs)
So, uh, when did all this happen?
Uh, what's today?
Friday. Yes.
We left on Saturday, and then I returned on, uh, Tuesday.
And that's when you renamed your church.
(laughs): I... I did.
You saw.
Yes, I did.
Is that the staff there?
Oh, yes it is.
Indeed, it is.
Wow, this is just like Sunday school.
Here's the Gospel
according to Jim...
I think you took that staff and clubbed the Holy Steve
like a baby harp seal...
so you could become the number one sky pilot...
(groans)
...and take over this whole operation.
Hmm... You do?
Yes, I do.
(whispers): Yes.
Yes, I did.
I raised the staff, as Abraham to Isaac,
but there was no angel to stay my hand,
so... I smote him.
BRASS: You smote him.
You realize that's a confession, George?
You understand that, right?
Yes, yes.
Are you, are you going to arrest me?
Yes, I am.
Yes.
(chuckles): Yes.
(breathes deeply)
(murmured chanting)
PIERRE: Okay, testing, testing.
Uh, what did one dehydrated Frenchman
say to the other?
"What do you want me to do, Pee Air?"
(Pierre and women laughing)
Okay, let's go.
MINK: Pierre, you're so funny!
It all looks like
standard operating procedure.
PIERRE: Hello, mon 'ti chou.
(Pierre chuckles)
Hello.
Hey, baby.
Okay... (speaks French)
Looks like a little bit of tension
between the two ladies there.
Mm-hmm.
(whooping and laughing)
Hold on, freeze it, right there.
Look at their hands.
Either one of those chicks
could have deployed Pierre's cutaway release
right there in free fall,
after he'd already checked his rig on the plane.
You ever think about skydiving?
Not anymore.
Keep playing it.
(whooping)
(panicked grunting)
(static crackles)
(Pierre screaming)
(crashing thud)
I think it's about time I had a little chat with the ladies.
Pierre, Max, Mink and me, we were like,
we were like one big happy family.
Closer, even.
We trusted each other with our lives
every day.
Oh.
Ah...
(sighs)
We all loved each other so much.
Pierre loved to make me laugh.
He was so funny.
Pee Air--
get it, Pierre?
SCHUYLER: He was a wild man.
Big where it counts-- in his heart.
I mean, I don't even know what I'm doing here.
My fiancé is dying, and I just don't understand
what all of you people want from me.
SCHUYLER: "Fiancé"? Wait.
She called him that? She called him her fiancé?
She doesn't even speak French.
He was never gonna marry her.
That pathetic, deluded bitch!
She called me a bitch?
That... ...bitch!
MINX: She thinks that I don't know
what she was doing-- sneaking around,
trying to take him away from me.
I am the one he loved.
He was just doing her out of pity.
Pity? She said that?
SCHUYLER: Unbelievable.
What a slut.
You know what I think?
I think maybe you killed Pierre out of jealousy.
(scoffs): What?
You heard me.
Really?
MAX: Eh, don't let either of them fool you.
In my opinion, they could have decided to kill him together.
Just to get off on watching him die.
They're both conniving, diseased, camel-hooved 'ores.
"Ore..."?
Whores. "Whores."
(footfalls approaching)
Well, it's cozy...
for a morgue.
What do you have for me, Wendy?
I got the results from the staff of Holy Steven.
Um, I recovered epithelials on the handle,
in the normal grip positions.
And all the DNA was either
from Steven himself or from his disciple, George.
What about the business end?
Nothing, actually.
That's what's weird-- there was no blood
from the victim, no epithelials
so honestly, I don't think he used that to whack him.
Why would he confess to killing Steven with it?
I don't know.
I want to show you something. Okay.
Take a look at this.
The Gospel according to Steven.
Greetings, siblings.
Today we learn the lesson of the barista
who taught me-- Steven-- this lesson.
I did not want whipped cream on my half-caf venti mocha latte.
But when it arrived so and I mentioned it,
the barista said, "Dude, we're slammed here.
Can't you just spoon it out?"
And I realized I could, and I did.
And thus, I freed myself
of the conflict that would afflict
all the other good people in line.
So remember, siblings,
in all things,
be supple of thought and pliant of deed...
The central tenets of this faith
seem to be based on the concept of acquiescence.
Well, I suppose there are worse things to base a religion on.
I suppose so.
You don't think he did it. No.
But I think the power of Steven may have compelled him.
BRASS: So according to this,
you said that you struck The Steven
with his staff.
You smote him.
That isn't true, is it?
Yeah... no.
What did you hit him with?
Oh, it says here a large rock.
Yes. No, wait a minute, a branch of a tree.
Yes. No, a hockey stick.
Yes.
You didn't really kill Steven, did you?
No.
So why did you confess to murder?
Well, I try to live my life
according to the 17th Proclamation of The Steven.
From his second sermon at the Starbucks.
Oh, I missed that one.
"It is better to be...
agreeable than to be right."
That's not religion, that's marriage.
(laughing)
That's... very...
So you didn't kill Steven?
Yes... no.
You did? Yes.
You killed him? No.
Are you clinically insane
or just incredibly annoying?
What would you prefer?
(sighs)
Look, would you mind submitting to a psychological evaluation?
No.
I don't even know why I asked.
WILLOWS: So in other words, he's crazy?
Or crazy like a fox,
or there was evidence of someone else
at the scene and I didn't find it.
Well, you've got no murder weapon
and no other suspects.
I mean, maybe your vic
just fell over and bumped his head.
It's been known to happen.
I'm going over to PD to wait for the DHS psychologist.
I'll fill him in on Agreeable George. Okay.
Hey, Catherine. Yeah?
I just caught a double 420 in Seven Hills. Oh!
You interested?
Let's do it. All right.
(siren chirps)
Okay, we got two dead bodies.
The wife discovered the two victims
when she returned from LA from visiting her sister.
Her name is Gretchen Javid.
Oh, you're not listening to me.
I am telling you, my husband was never without his bodyguard!
Please, please. Hold her. Sir, my husband was never
without his bodyguard!
And his bodyguard is missing!
Please, somebody help her out.
Get her some medication.
You need to stay calm, ma'am.
I'm having an anxiety attack. Help me, please.
Officer Akers, uh, was the first respondent on the scene.
(indistinct radio transmission)
Okay... so...
victim number one is Ismail Javid.
He's the owner of the house.
And victim number two is his business partner,
Allen McKenna.
Now, they own a company called
Isfahan Marble & Tile.
They did the new lobby at the Marrakesh.
I've seen it.
It's grotesque.
This is worse.
AKERS: When I arrived, I found no sign of forced entry.
Nothing disturbed in the house.
No sign of a struggle.
And they still had their wallets, so robbery
doesn't seem to be... (gagging)
Excuse me. Sorry.
Must have been something I ate.
Uh, well, I don't need you puking on my crime scene, Andy,
so go ahead and take off.
I've got it covered here. Thanks.
Hey...
I don't see any external wounds or injuries,
and they're just coming out of rigor.
So, they've probably been dead since early last night.
Maybe a little longer.
Whatever killed them looks like it hurt.
Yeah, both their necks are flushed.
That's usually a characteristic of heart attack.
PHILLIPS: Simultaneous coronary seizures?
That's kind of unlikely, don't you think?
SANDERS: Very.
Maybe they were poisoned.
I'll take that stuff to Tox.
SIMMS: So I ran the DNA from the female skydivers
against the sample that you took from the, uh...
Cutaway handle? Yes, thank you.
And anyway, neither one of them was on it.
In fact, the only DNA that I did find was from Pierre himself.
Really? Mm-hmm.
(over phone): Langston.
Hey, yeah, Ray, um, I'm just wondering
when you're, uh... going to be getting back here.
'Cause, uh... callouts are starting to pile up.
Well, I'm all done here.
I should be back at the lab in 15, 20 minutes.
WILLOWS: Oh, perfect... (Akers groans)
Ray? Ray, what's going on?
(cries out)
WOMAN: This is Dispatch.
We need paramedics.
I'll take care of him.
(Akers gasping) (onlookers murmuring)
He was in coronary arrhythmia, very close to full arrest.
Is there a history of heart disease?
None.
Hey, Andy. How you feeling?
Fine.
Just get somebody to take these wires off, and I'll go home.
LANGSTON: That's not going to happen
anytime soon, son.
WILLOWS: Andy, I need you to walk me through
exactly what you did
when you reported to the 420 in Seven Hills.
I responded to the call.
Arrived first,
ahead of EMS.
Wife met me at the door.
Led me to the backyard.
GRETCHEN: Let me through! Let me through!
I checked the vics for pulse, but they were gone.
So I taped the scene off
and I waited for you guys to show up.
Were you wearing gloves?
No.
And there was no reason to.
Wa-Was there?
Something at the scene induced heart attacks in both my victims.
I think Akers was exposed to it, too.
Think it came from something they both touched?
I do. EMT: Out of the way, please.
EMT 2: Clear the way, coming through!
I am telling you...!
I'm having an anxiety attack. Help me, please.
That was the victim's wife.
(phone beeping)
(line rings)
Jim, we need to quarantine the crime scene in Seven Hills.
I think there's a contact toxin involved.
Include the entire house and adjacent yards.
And no one enters without Hazmat.
♪
(whirring)
ANDREWS: So I found a very faint, powdery trace
on all the surfaces I examined.
It's a digitoxin.
A naturally occurring organic compound.
It's a cardiac glycoside. Used in heart medication.
Yeah, in small doses it is beneficial
to healthy heart function, but in higher doses
it causes arrhythmia, and in extreme concentrations,
such as those found in the tissues of both vics, death.
But fortunately, it becomes inert fairly quickly.
Okay, so that explains why Officer Akers
and Mrs. Javid survived the exposure.
We have to go back
and check the yard.
Is there a reagent that can detect the digitoxin?
Yeah, a diluted solution of perchloric acid
exposed to UV light will induce fluorescence.
Try saying that ten times fast.
(spray hissing)
(clicking)
HODGES: The glycosides are completely contained
within the backyard.
WILLOWS: What does that dispersal pattern suggest to you?
Well, that the house was targeted
and that the toxins were dropped from above.
Yeah, yeah, that's what we think.
Well... you had said that the victims
looked like they were caught completely unaware.
What kind of aircraft can fly that low
and that quiet without them even noticing?
SANDERS: Way ahead of you, Hodges.
Ultralights.
They're extremely maneuverable,
and able to fly very slow
without stalling.
If they used one of these,
they conceivably could have
gained altitude, then cut the engine,
and glided silently,
very low across the yard.
Then after the drop, the pilot could have restarted the engine
and... landed just about anywhere.
We know that the TOD was sometime
the night before last.
Greg, get me a latitude
and longitude for the yard.
I got an idea.
JOHNSON: Okay,
I've got tracking data from the tower at McCarran
for overflight of latitude...
36-10-27,
longitude 1-22-
15-10 at 2238 hours the day before yesterday.
There's one ultralight in the area.
There's the house. SANDERS: And that's
where the craft dropped off radar
when it descended and dropped the digitoxin.
I wonder how they knew the vics would even be there.
Bodyguard must have tipped them off.
Did the craft transponder relay any registration info?
(beeping)
I'm not getting anything.
Can you widen the view
and show me where they went?
He headed towards Denim Field.
Also the apparent point of origin.
That must be where he landed.
JOHNSON: Let's check out the perspective view.
Whoever was piloting it
brought it in on this ancillary runway.
SANDERS: Private airstrip.
No security.
WILLOWS: Wait.
Go back.
There.
Stokes.
Hey, Nicky,
I think your jumper case just got tangled up in mine.
(sirens wailing)
(spray hissing)
Hey, Pierre?
Ça va?
(speaks French)
BRASS: Bonjour, Max.
How's the patient?
They say maybe, uh, he never walk again, huh?
Never speak.
Imagine.
Ouch. Oh...
Can you hear me, Pierre?
(beeping)
COMPUTER VOICE: Yes.
Oh.
Good.
Look... I got a problem,
and I think maybe you two guys can help me out.
I already told you
all that I know about Pierre's accident.
No, it's not about the accident.
It's about the fact that your glider
was used in a poison dump to kill a couple of guys
the night before last.
Hey, I'm sure I have no idea what
you are talking about. Well, maybe not.
But I bet Pierre might have something to say about it.
There is nothing to tell.
Is that right, Pierre?
'Cause I get the feeling that you really want to tell us
what happened, in every detail. Right?
COMPUTER VOICE: Yes.
Pierre, be very careful what you say, my friend, huh?
BRASS: Yeah.
Be very careful.
Now, tell us what happened,
word by word.
I don't care
how long it takes; I can wait.
COMPUTER VOICE: Was night.
Cell ring.
Max.
He want me to fly.
Okay.
There was a man, a very bad man,
he want me to fly him at night.
Uh-huh. He say, uh, he want to make
aerial photography.
He offer me $5,000, but I did not believe him.
I say no, I have no license to fly at night.
But then he get meaner-- he threaten to hurt my family.
He knows my children's name,
where we live, tout ça.
So...
I agree to, uh, meet him at the airport.
But I was so nervous,
I got in car accident.
(tires screeching, metal crunching)
(phone line ringing) (grunting): Pierre! Pick up, pick up!
(laughter, Pierre speaking French)
(cell phone ringing, music playing)
Hello?
Pierre!
For the love of God, just meet (horn honks)
this guy at the airfield, take him up
in the ultralight, follow directions,
and don't ask any questions!
I pay you
$5,000. I can do this for you, my friend.
Merci. Yes, my friend.
(speaking in French)
Pierre...
Pierre has business to attend to.
MAX: Pierre had no idea
what was going on. Okay...
He said take it down! Now!
D'accord!
(both laughing)
Two million bucks in the bank.
Now...
(chuckling)
(spray hissing)
Think, uh, it's starting to rain?
(coughing, choking) He knew...
he had done something terribly wrong.
(coughing and choking stop)
He was very upset.
But, uh, I told him to calm himself.
I told him, uh, we had to do our jobs and, uh, keep silent.
You realize this makes you an accomplice.
You know that, right?
I understand.
But I really had no idea what was going to happen.
Did one of the killers
mess with your parachute?
Did he tamper it
in any way?
COMPUTER VOICE: No.
It... was...
me.
Because you couldn't bear what you'd done,
and you decided to kill yourself.
Yes. You didn't want
to be thought of as a coward,
so you...
rigged your own chute to fail.
But even that failed, isn't that so?
Yes.
(sobbing)
Max.
I need a name.
NEWSWOMAN: A professional bodyguard
and a second, unidentified man were arrested early this morning
for the alleged killing of Ismail Javid
and Allen McKenna, co-owners of Isfahan Marble & Stone,
just two days ago.
There is speculation that the second man,
a Kurdish crop duster who was reputedly obsessed
with the movie North by Northwest,
was hired by the owner of rival Iranian
marble importers to kill the men,
possibly in a dispute over contracts
in the dwindling housing market.
Authorities have declined to make a statement
at this time... STOKES: Well, there's a story
for you.
I think I'll sell it to Holly-weird, get rich.
(laughs): I thought we had a trade embargo on...
Iranian imports. We do, but those guys just ship the product
to a second neutral country in the area,
like the UAE, transship it here,
resell it to themselves at cost.
It's technically legal, and, uh,
Commerce turns a blind eye.
SANDERS: And then they kill each other here
over construction contracts.
Those Persian dudes are tough, man.
Well, they were once an empire
that stretched halfway across the known world.
The Greek playwright Aeschylus wrote about
the territorial ambitions of the Persian Empire against Greece
in his great cycle of tragedy and war, The Persians,
um, fifth century,
B.C.
I will definitely put that on my reading list.
Does anyone want
to grab some breakfast? Yeah, yep.
Why are you always thinking about food?
None of you has read Aeschylus?
I've been meaning to. Well, you should.
He was a writer of tremendous power,
great beauty.
His death was...
LANGSTON: As an old man in 456 B.C.,
Aeschylus, the great body of his work behind him,
left Athens for the last time...
where he traveled to Sicily,
seeking solitude in the wilderness
in which to contemplate the meaning of his life.
(bird screeches)
Though he had fought and survived
the endless bloody wars
against the Persian kings, Darius and Xerxes,
it was here,
in silent meditation, that a beautiful act
of a most violent nature brought him
to Elysium...
(clack)
...and eternal paradise.
Are you really gonna put that in your report?
Birds of prey drop shelled animals onto boulders
to get at the meat.
Now, from the air, Holy Steven's head
must have looked like just another rock.
You can Google it if you don't believe me.
The DNA on the shell was a match.
What are the odds, right? Before it happened,
I would have said slim,
but since it did happen, a hundred percent.
WILLOWS: Seems like a lot of things
keep falling out of the sky, right?
Poison, people, turtles.
LANGSTON: Tortoises.
WILLOWS: Whatever.
Maybe I should start wearing a helmet.
LANGSTON: Or at least carrying an umbrella.