Weird Science s03e18 Episode Script
Spies 'R' Us
[MUSIC PLAYING.]
Contessa, excuse-moi.
Do you have a light? You know, Darling, smoking can be dangerous to your health.
Not as dangerous as feeling cornered to a bad monkey on a hot summer night.
The badder the monkey, the better I sleep.
And in the morning, how do you prefer to be awakened? I prefer to be shaken, not stirred.
Have you located the microchip? It is in the ice sculpture frozen in the eye of this one.
I'll get the chip, but I'll need a diversion.
Leave it to me.
Contessa.
[DANCE MUSIC.]
Excuse me.
Do you have the time? It's, uh, a quarter passed 9:00.
[SHRIEKING.]
Oops.
You fools.
The plan.
Frisk everyone.
[GUNSHOTS.]
Power up, Wyatt.
Let's rock.
Wait! To remember me by.
I never got your name.
Donnelly.
Wyatt Donnelly.
I think I love you, Wyatt Donnelly.
Cool.
[MUSIC - "WEIRD SCIENCE".]
THEME SONG: Weird science.
Fantasy and microchips, shooting from the hip, weird science.
Weird science.
Magic and technology, diagrams and charts, mending broken hearts, weird science.
Weird science! That little machine you zapped up kicks butt.
Wow.
Look at this.
Hey, I still got the microchip.
Sometimes there's a little carry over from the VR world to the real world.
It's a very powerful machine.
And I only had it set on two.
Come on, Wy.
I'm ready for more.
Let's go live the sequel.
I'll pass.
That hovercraft chase through the fireworks factory made me queasy.
Besides, we got to get to school.
I say we set this baby on 10 and see how the Contessa handles the love scenes.
[ZAPPING.]
I don't know about you, but I can sure take a break from that VR machine.
I hear ya.
I got an idea.
Why don't we just melt it into a big lump and never touch it again.
Gary, there's a guy in my locker.
A guy.
In my locker! He was there.
Uh-huh.
And was this the same little guy who lived in your socks? No.
That was Mr.
Hootie.
SCAMPI (ON INTERCOM): This is Principal Scampi.
Will Wyatt Donnelly and Gary Wallace please report to my office.
Is it safe? Excuse me? SCAMPI: Is it safe? What are you talking about? SCAMPI: I don't have time for games, gentlemen.
I want that microchip and I want it now.
Principal Scampi? The name is Scampfinger.
Anything you want to tell me, Gar? Anything important? Important? Let me think.
Oh, yeah.
I may have accidentally broken Lisa's spy world simulator and turned our world into a life-threatening blend of fantasy and reality.
If you consider that sort of thing important.
I hope they shoot you first.
SCAMPI: Silence.
The microchip.
You have it.
I need it.
Microchip? The one you stole from me.
From the ice sculpture! Oh, oh! The microchip.
No, I have it.
I mean, not on me, but I can just get it easy.
I just have to run home.
I suppose I can excuse you early.
But first, a little fashion lift to ensure your return.
These looks like bombs.
If you do not return in exactly one hour, the vests will explode.
Contact the police, the vests will explode.
Stop for tacos and the vest will explode.
Lisa? Silence, dogs.
My name is Hotloins.
Holly Hotloins.
Boy are they ever.
Scampfinger, please.
I beg you.
Let me kill them now.
You know how much I enjoy mayhem.
In time, my sweet.
First, let me have a moment to tell the boys my master plan.
The microchip you so recklessly stole is the brain of my water dehydration converter.
With that chip, I will be able to condense all the water on the planet into a container the size of a Dixie cup.
Why don't you just use a Dixie cup? Silence! Arbor high will be the only high school with a full swimming pool.
Our swim team will have a decisive advantage in every meet this season-- especially on the high dive.
The school board will vote you Principle of the Year for sure.
Arm the bombs.
[CAR LOCK SOUND.]
You'll never get away with this.
SCAMPI: You have 59 minutes.
I suggest you use them wisely.
Send in the next student.
Ah, Mr.
Dinkler.
Late for American history again, I see? I suppose you expect me to give you some excuse.
No, Mr.
Dinkler.
I expect you to die.
No! [EVIL LAUGHTER.]
Scampi's a ruthless killer.
Our genie's an enemy agent.
We got bombs strapped to our chest.
Have I thanked you for being my friend today? Thank you for being my friend today.
Hey, guys.
I'm Winnie.
This is Begas.
You want to hang out or something? You guys want to hang out with us? Sure.
Don't think that as incredibly popular cheerleaders we're bothered by your fringe-dwelling physically mutated geekiness.
We're not.
We think it's cute.
That's why we want to get up close and personal.
They're going to kill us.
Fork over the microchip, uber geek.
Why do you want it? No more water, no more humidity.
No more humidity, no more bad hair days.
Duh.
But we don't have the chip.
Bummer.
But we still have to waste you.
Ready.
ALL (CHEERING): OK! Ricka-racka, ricka-racka, sis, boom, bah.
Kill Gary, kill Wyatt.
Rah, rah, rah! You know what's weird? This has always been a fantasy of mine.
Duck.
Get in.
They belong to me, you old stuck-up one.
Take them at your peril.
Come on, girls.
Pyramid! Boom-shaka-laka, sucker.
[GUNSHOTS.]
Smells like teen spirit.
Never thought I'd be happy to see you, Chett.
Don't be, pucker butt.
Ah, you're finally awake and lucky to be alive.
Dad? You know the agency frowns on familiarity among its operatives.
Call me Number 1.
I'm disappointed in you, Number 7.
You've blown your cover.
You too, Number 2.
Don't think I won't be calling your father.
I'm sure he'll want to see you terminated as well.
Terminated? For blowing our cover? And for losing the microchip to our arch enemy, Scampfinger.
Wait.
Scampfinger doesn't have the chip.
We do.
I thought you searched them, Agent 30-0-6.
Full cavity search.
No chip.
Just a handful of bad memories.
Oh.
Now, you have your mission, gentleman.
Go home, destroy the chip.
I'll see to it that the agency reinstates you and your allowance.
WYATT: There's the microchip.
Right where I left it.
Great.
You know the mission.
Now smash that baby.
LISA: I'll take that.
Lisa! The name is Hotloins.
Holly Hotloins.
We weren't going to break it.
We were just going to bring this to you and now you're here.
Here.
Silence, dog.
You betrayed us.
Am I the only one loyal to Scampfinger? Uh, just what exactly do you see in that guy anyway? I love him-- all of him.
The touch of his full, pouty Scamp lips pressing against mine.
His pokey little Scamp tongue probing my inner ear.
Thank you.
Did not need to hear that.
I'll do anything to please him, and nothing would please him more than eliminating you.
Well, when your time's up, your time's up.
Let me guess.
Another one of your fantasies? Wait, you can't kill us.
Not here.
We'll be late for geometry class.
If we miss class, Mrs.
Fletcher will call my parents.
My parents will call the police.
There will be an investigation.
And if there's an investigation, Scampfinger will never become Principal of the Year.
Fair enough.
I'll kill you at school.
Comfortable, I trust.
Actually, I'd like to buy a value.
You have the chip.
What else do you want? What any principle would want.
Respect, some help with the morning announcements, problem students eliminated! Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the men from AV.
What are you going to do? Show us a film strip? On the contrary, dear boy.
This elite squad of butt kissers has used its extensive knowledge of reel-to-reel tape recorders and overhead projectors to construct this lovely death ray.
[EVIL LAUGHTER.]
Just for the record, this is not one of my fantasies.
Pity I can't stay for the big send off, but I'm expected at an urgent engagement.
The school board's ready for you.
And I am ready for them.
I can't believe I passed on the boobs of death for this.
Agent 30-0-6, shut off the laser! We owe you.
You saved our lives again.
Don't mention it, 00-Buttlick.
I'm very disappointed in you, Number 7.
You too, Number 2.
You let Scampfinger get away with the microchip.
But Dad, Holly Hotloins stole it from us.
And Scampfinger had this laser beam, and-- I've had a belly full of your lame excuses.
Number 3 managed to destroy the enemy's orbiting death station and mow the lawn.
Number 3.
What a suck-up.
Agent 30-0-6, report.
Intelligence confirms Scampfinger's throwing another lavish dinner party.
Guests include a pack of international terrorists and the Vlemings-- Jim and Cathy-- cute couple who live next door.
Well, you heard him, boys.
This is your last chance.
Destroy that chip and your mission's accomplished.
Wait a minute.
Maybe that's it.
If we finish the mission, we'll zap out of this screwed-up fantasy like before, when Spy World was just a game.
DAD: We've whipped up a few things to help you on your mission.
Standard issue dart guns, exploding cuff links, cyanide breath mints.
Ah, just what you need.
What is it? Some kind of explosive death gel? Precisely.
I call it dippity doom.
You can hide enough in that mop of yours to blow a chunk out of the sun.
You got anything here we could actually use? Yep.
The death pants.
What are they? Like, really, really tight? These pants are the end result of decades of tactical fashion research.
They were smuggled out of Communist China in 1963.
Two of our finest agents gave their lives for these pants.
Now I give them to you.
XYZ.
Right back at ya.
Stop.
That's how you arm them.
Oh.
Come on, I'll take you to the minisub.
You sure this is Scampi's house? How many principles do you know who could afford subterranean moats? Good point.
Ready? Ready.
OK, same game plan as before.
I'll cause a diversion, you get the chip.
I'll check the ice sculpture.
That's where it was last time.
It take two to tango.
Prepare to be swept off your feet, Contessa.
Your fly's open.
Yes, I know.
Hotloins? Number 2.
You're alive-- for the moment.
It's gotta be in here somewhere.
MALE VOICE: The time is 9:20.
Great.
Wrong watch.
I should kill you, but I find myself strangely attracted to you.
I know you only as Number 2.
Surely you have a more dignified name.
Donnelly.
Wyatt Donnelly.
We are on opposite sides of the kill or be killed business, Wyatt Donnelly.
Is there some way we can meet in the middle? Only one-- the tango.
[DANCE MUSIC.]
Don't worry.
They are disarmed.
Your fly is open.
Yes, I know.
Snocone? You dance divinely.
I think I may be falling in love with you, Wyatt Donnelly.
Think? When will you be sure? When I see how well you dip.
You dip poorly.
You must die.
Scampfinger! Ah, Mr.
Donnelly.
You have a nasty habit of surviving.
He tried to seduce me.
I resisted.
Sorry, Wyatt.
My fingers were numb and I couldn't get my gun out.
OK, boys.
Class dismissed.
Wait, stop! Before you shoot, do you mind if we zip up? Wouldn't want you to meet your maker with your hangar doors open.
Zip away.
Ha! We're wearing death pants.
Not the death pants! You win this round, Mr.
Wallace, but we'll see who has the last laugh-- graduation day.
You won't make it off the acceptance stage alive.
The joke's on you.
The way my grades have been sucking, I probably won't graduate anyway.
FEMALE VOICE: You have 45 seconds to detonation.
Hey, Wyatt, how do we aim these things? We can't.
Don't you see? We're wearing bombs! Bombs? Thank you, gentlemen, for making my soiree such a blast.
Adieu.
Goodbye, Number 2.
You'll always be Number 1 in my heart.
FEMALE VOICE: 25 seconds to detonation.
Gary, we have to destroy the chip.
It's the only way to complete our mission and get home.
FEMALE VOICE: 20 seconds.
It won't break! FEMALE VOICE: 15 seconds.
WYATT: What are you doing? Gary! Dippity doo.
You actually used that stuff? It smells like gas, but it really gives me shape.
FEMALE VOICE: Two, one, detonate.
It worked! Spy World's over.
SCAMPI: Mr.
Wallace, Mr.
Donnelly.
Charming little trick with the pants.
Unfortunately, it's going to cost you a month's detention and a session with the school psychologist.
Check me for holes.
[MUSIC - OINGO BOINGO, "WEIRD SCIENCE".]
THEME SONG: Weird science.
Fantasy and microchips, shooting from the hip, something different, we're making weird science.
Ooo! Pictures from a magazine, bits and pieces, bits and pieces.
My creation, is it real? It's my creation.
I do not know.
It's my creation! From my heart and from my hand, why don't people understand my intentions?
Contessa, excuse-moi.
Do you have a light? You know, Darling, smoking can be dangerous to your health.
Not as dangerous as feeling cornered to a bad monkey on a hot summer night.
The badder the monkey, the better I sleep.
And in the morning, how do you prefer to be awakened? I prefer to be shaken, not stirred.
Have you located the microchip? It is in the ice sculpture frozen in the eye of this one.
I'll get the chip, but I'll need a diversion.
Leave it to me.
Contessa.
[DANCE MUSIC.]
Excuse me.
Do you have the time? It's, uh, a quarter passed 9:00.
[SHRIEKING.]
Oops.
You fools.
The plan.
Frisk everyone.
[GUNSHOTS.]
Power up, Wyatt.
Let's rock.
Wait! To remember me by.
I never got your name.
Donnelly.
Wyatt Donnelly.
I think I love you, Wyatt Donnelly.
Cool.
[MUSIC - "WEIRD SCIENCE".]
THEME SONG: Weird science.
Fantasy and microchips, shooting from the hip, weird science.
Weird science.
Magic and technology, diagrams and charts, mending broken hearts, weird science.
Weird science! That little machine you zapped up kicks butt.
Wow.
Look at this.
Hey, I still got the microchip.
Sometimes there's a little carry over from the VR world to the real world.
It's a very powerful machine.
And I only had it set on two.
Come on, Wy.
I'm ready for more.
Let's go live the sequel.
I'll pass.
That hovercraft chase through the fireworks factory made me queasy.
Besides, we got to get to school.
I say we set this baby on 10 and see how the Contessa handles the love scenes.
[ZAPPING.]
I don't know about you, but I can sure take a break from that VR machine.
I hear ya.
I got an idea.
Why don't we just melt it into a big lump and never touch it again.
Gary, there's a guy in my locker.
A guy.
In my locker! He was there.
Uh-huh.
And was this the same little guy who lived in your socks? No.
That was Mr.
Hootie.
SCAMPI (ON INTERCOM): This is Principal Scampi.
Will Wyatt Donnelly and Gary Wallace please report to my office.
Is it safe? Excuse me? SCAMPI: Is it safe? What are you talking about? SCAMPI: I don't have time for games, gentlemen.
I want that microchip and I want it now.
Principal Scampi? The name is Scampfinger.
Anything you want to tell me, Gar? Anything important? Important? Let me think.
Oh, yeah.
I may have accidentally broken Lisa's spy world simulator and turned our world into a life-threatening blend of fantasy and reality.
If you consider that sort of thing important.
I hope they shoot you first.
SCAMPI: Silence.
The microchip.
You have it.
I need it.
Microchip? The one you stole from me.
From the ice sculpture! Oh, oh! The microchip.
No, I have it.
I mean, not on me, but I can just get it easy.
I just have to run home.
I suppose I can excuse you early.
But first, a little fashion lift to ensure your return.
These looks like bombs.
If you do not return in exactly one hour, the vests will explode.
Contact the police, the vests will explode.
Stop for tacos and the vest will explode.
Lisa? Silence, dogs.
My name is Hotloins.
Holly Hotloins.
Boy are they ever.
Scampfinger, please.
I beg you.
Let me kill them now.
You know how much I enjoy mayhem.
In time, my sweet.
First, let me have a moment to tell the boys my master plan.
The microchip you so recklessly stole is the brain of my water dehydration converter.
With that chip, I will be able to condense all the water on the planet into a container the size of a Dixie cup.
Why don't you just use a Dixie cup? Silence! Arbor high will be the only high school with a full swimming pool.
Our swim team will have a decisive advantage in every meet this season-- especially on the high dive.
The school board will vote you Principle of the Year for sure.
Arm the bombs.
[CAR LOCK SOUND.]
You'll never get away with this.
SCAMPI: You have 59 minutes.
I suggest you use them wisely.
Send in the next student.
Ah, Mr.
Dinkler.
Late for American history again, I see? I suppose you expect me to give you some excuse.
No, Mr.
Dinkler.
I expect you to die.
No! [EVIL LAUGHTER.]
Scampi's a ruthless killer.
Our genie's an enemy agent.
We got bombs strapped to our chest.
Have I thanked you for being my friend today? Thank you for being my friend today.
Hey, guys.
I'm Winnie.
This is Begas.
You want to hang out or something? You guys want to hang out with us? Sure.
Don't think that as incredibly popular cheerleaders we're bothered by your fringe-dwelling physically mutated geekiness.
We're not.
We think it's cute.
That's why we want to get up close and personal.
They're going to kill us.
Fork over the microchip, uber geek.
Why do you want it? No more water, no more humidity.
No more humidity, no more bad hair days.
Duh.
But we don't have the chip.
Bummer.
But we still have to waste you.
Ready.
ALL (CHEERING): OK! Ricka-racka, ricka-racka, sis, boom, bah.
Kill Gary, kill Wyatt.
Rah, rah, rah! You know what's weird? This has always been a fantasy of mine.
Duck.
Get in.
They belong to me, you old stuck-up one.
Take them at your peril.
Come on, girls.
Pyramid! Boom-shaka-laka, sucker.
[GUNSHOTS.]
Smells like teen spirit.
Never thought I'd be happy to see you, Chett.
Don't be, pucker butt.
Ah, you're finally awake and lucky to be alive.
Dad? You know the agency frowns on familiarity among its operatives.
Call me Number 1.
I'm disappointed in you, Number 7.
You've blown your cover.
You too, Number 2.
Don't think I won't be calling your father.
I'm sure he'll want to see you terminated as well.
Terminated? For blowing our cover? And for losing the microchip to our arch enemy, Scampfinger.
Wait.
Scampfinger doesn't have the chip.
We do.
I thought you searched them, Agent 30-0-6.
Full cavity search.
No chip.
Just a handful of bad memories.
Oh.
Now, you have your mission, gentleman.
Go home, destroy the chip.
I'll see to it that the agency reinstates you and your allowance.
WYATT: There's the microchip.
Right where I left it.
Great.
You know the mission.
Now smash that baby.
LISA: I'll take that.
Lisa! The name is Hotloins.
Holly Hotloins.
We weren't going to break it.
We were just going to bring this to you and now you're here.
Here.
Silence, dog.
You betrayed us.
Am I the only one loyal to Scampfinger? Uh, just what exactly do you see in that guy anyway? I love him-- all of him.
The touch of his full, pouty Scamp lips pressing against mine.
His pokey little Scamp tongue probing my inner ear.
Thank you.
Did not need to hear that.
I'll do anything to please him, and nothing would please him more than eliminating you.
Well, when your time's up, your time's up.
Let me guess.
Another one of your fantasies? Wait, you can't kill us.
Not here.
We'll be late for geometry class.
If we miss class, Mrs.
Fletcher will call my parents.
My parents will call the police.
There will be an investigation.
And if there's an investigation, Scampfinger will never become Principal of the Year.
Fair enough.
I'll kill you at school.
Comfortable, I trust.
Actually, I'd like to buy a value.
You have the chip.
What else do you want? What any principle would want.
Respect, some help with the morning announcements, problem students eliminated! Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the men from AV.
What are you going to do? Show us a film strip? On the contrary, dear boy.
This elite squad of butt kissers has used its extensive knowledge of reel-to-reel tape recorders and overhead projectors to construct this lovely death ray.
[EVIL LAUGHTER.]
Just for the record, this is not one of my fantasies.
Pity I can't stay for the big send off, but I'm expected at an urgent engagement.
The school board's ready for you.
And I am ready for them.
I can't believe I passed on the boobs of death for this.
Agent 30-0-6, shut off the laser! We owe you.
You saved our lives again.
Don't mention it, 00-Buttlick.
I'm very disappointed in you, Number 7.
You too, Number 2.
You let Scampfinger get away with the microchip.
But Dad, Holly Hotloins stole it from us.
And Scampfinger had this laser beam, and-- I've had a belly full of your lame excuses.
Number 3 managed to destroy the enemy's orbiting death station and mow the lawn.
Number 3.
What a suck-up.
Agent 30-0-6, report.
Intelligence confirms Scampfinger's throwing another lavish dinner party.
Guests include a pack of international terrorists and the Vlemings-- Jim and Cathy-- cute couple who live next door.
Well, you heard him, boys.
This is your last chance.
Destroy that chip and your mission's accomplished.
Wait a minute.
Maybe that's it.
If we finish the mission, we'll zap out of this screwed-up fantasy like before, when Spy World was just a game.
DAD: We've whipped up a few things to help you on your mission.
Standard issue dart guns, exploding cuff links, cyanide breath mints.
Ah, just what you need.
What is it? Some kind of explosive death gel? Precisely.
I call it dippity doom.
You can hide enough in that mop of yours to blow a chunk out of the sun.
You got anything here we could actually use? Yep.
The death pants.
What are they? Like, really, really tight? These pants are the end result of decades of tactical fashion research.
They were smuggled out of Communist China in 1963.
Two of our finest agents gave their lives for these pants.
Now I give them to you.
XYZ.
Right back at ya.
Stop.
That's how you arm them.
Oh.
Come on, I'll take you to the minisub.
You sure this is Scampi's house? How many principles do you know who could afford subterranean moats? Good point.
Ready? Ready.
OK, same game plan as before.
I'll cause a diversion, you get the chip.
I'll check the ice sculpture.
That's where it was last time.
It take two to tango.
Prepare to be swept off your feet, Contessa.
Your fly's open.
Yes, I know.
Hotloins? Number 2.
You're alive-- for the moment.
It's gotta be in here somewhere.
MALE VOICE: The time is 9:20.
Great.
Wrong watch.
I should kill you, but I find myself strangely attracted to you.
I know you only as Number 2.
Surely you have a more dignified name.
Donnelly.
Wyatt Donnelly.
We are on opposite sides of the kill or be killed business, Wyatt Donnelly.
Is there some way we can meet in the middle? Only one-- the tango.
[DANCE MUSIC.]
Don't worry.
They are disarmed.
Your fly is open.
Yes, I know.
Snocone? You dance divinely.
I think I may be falling in love with you, Wyatt Donnelly.
Think? When will you be sure? When I see how well you dip.
You dip poorly.
You must die.
Scampfinger! Ah, Mr.
Donnelly.
You have a nasty habit of surviving.
He tried to seduce me.
I resisted.
Sorry, Wyatt.
My fingers were numb and I couldn't get my gun out.
OK, boys.
Class dismissed.
Wait, stop! Before you shoot, do you mind if we zip up? Wouldn't want you to meet your maker with your hangar doors open.
Zip away.
Ha! We're wearing death pants.
Not the death pants! You win this round, Mr.
Wallace, but we'll see who has the last laugh-- graduation day.
You won't make it off the acceptance stage alive.
The joke's on you.
The way my grades have been sucking, I probably won't graduate anyway.
FEMALE VOICE: You have 45 seconds to detonation.
Hey, Wyatt, how do we aim these things? We can't.
Don't you see? We're wearing bombs! Bombs? Thank you, gentlemen, for making my soiree such a blast.
Adieu.
Goodbye, Number 2.
You'll always be Number 1 in my heart.
FEMALE VOICE: 25 seconds to detonation.
Gary, we have to destroy the chip.
It's the only way to complete our mission and get home.
FEMALE VOICE: 20 seconds.
It won't break! FEMALE VOICE: 15 seconds.
WYATT: What are you doing? Gary! Dippity doo.
You actually used that stuff? It smells like gas, but it really gives me shape.
FEMALE VOICE: Two, one, detonate.
It worked! Spy World's over.
SCAMPI: Mr.
Wallace, Mr.
Donnelly.
Charming little trick with the pants.
Unfortunately, it's going to cost you a month's detention and a session with the school psychologist.
Check me for holes.
[MUSIC - OINGO BOINGO, "WEIRD SCIENCE".]
THEME SONG: Weird science.
Fantasy and microchips, shooting from the hip, something different, we're making weird science.
Ooo! Pictures from a magazine, bits and pieces, bits and pieces.
My creation, is it real? It's my creation.
I do not know.
It's my creation! From my heart and from my hand, why don't people understand my intentions?