The Boss Baby: Back in Business (2018) s02e12 Episode Script

Hold all my calls.
Die! Dead! And that is the story of my career as of 30 minutes ago, when I allowed Frederic Estes to steal Baby Corp's only vial of Stinkless Serum! Poor little metaphor! So, now we have maybe 15 minutes to come up with a foolproof plan to keep Turtleneck Superstar CEO Baby from firing me.
No wrong answers.
Jimbo.
Apology hugs? Wrong answer! Staci.
I always keep a Plan "B" in my backpack.
It's spiders! Oh, what? So you release them into Baby Corp and I squash them, looking like a hero? Why would you kill my babies? Templeton! Sometimes when I mess up with Mom and Dad, I do something nice to show I'm sorry, like extra chores or Brilliant, Templeton! Stop talking! I can see the plan now! Is that Boss Baby up there performing unselfish service for this company? Please, Templeton, I don't want recognition.
Doing good is its own reward.
What a virtuous example! Baby Corp is lucky to have him, and should never consider firing him.
Hello, work associates.
Who would like to see my new trampoline? - What? - How delightful! I will be right down.
Oh, no! He's slipping off the window washing platform! That is an accurate description of what is happening.
Boss Baby, no! How could such a terrible tragedy have occurred? It no longer matters what Boss Baby did wrong.
Let us mourn him in traditional baby style.
Wah, wah, wah.
Then I wait three weeks, show up with a few bandages, and everyone's so glad to see me, all is forgiven.
Ooh! Great plan, Tim.
That was nothing like my plan.
Yeah, we plussed it in the meeting.
My career's on the line, Templeton.
You in or out? - We're brothers.
Of course I'm in.
- Boys! Your dad and I were wondering if you could keep all the screaming down.
Um, no one's screaming, Mom.
Well, you're about to be, from excitement, for end-of-summer inside-the-house mini golf! Your dad called dibs on the front hallway for his hole.
Gigantic rapids.
Honey, do we any bigger canoes? And I'm cooking up a par seven nightmare in the kitchen, so whatever hole you're designing, challenge me! Oh, I got your challenge: Magma Madness, featuring vinegar and baking soda volcanic explosions that will crush your golf ball! But, um, first, I'll need time to let the baby help.
It is his first family mini golf.
We'll build Magma Madness together.
Probably take us a while, don't check on us.
Why would you? What? Just mini golf stuff.
Aw! What a good big brother.
Yes, I am.
Tell me this is gonna be quick.
I'm a business baby.
I'll tell you whatever you wanna hear.
Let's do this! Add vinegar.
Baking soda.
Mix 'em up, and I can make it look like you were so terrified, your brain exploded.
Ooh! You're suddenly way too into my fake death.
Whatever gets me back to mini golf.
Brain-splosion is cooking.
Just give it two minutes to build pressure, and Babies of Baby Corp! Too late! She's announcing my firing! - Templeton, abort! - But I already did the Plan "B.
" Spider babies! Crisis! Our intel indicates Frederic Estes and the Consortium of Ancients are plotting something big for tomorrow's local End o' Summer Fest.
Ugh! We're already late for family mini golf, and now Estes wants to ruin the town carnival! What is happening to my end o' summer? Inconceivable as it might seem, we must assume our enemies have decoded the formula for Stinkless Serum.
- Oh, no! Stinkless Serum! - Oh, no! - That belongs to us! - Already? Sir, if old people get rid of their bad smells and babies still stink, we're gonna get crushed on the love charts! That was gonna be our secret weapon! How did old people even get it? Using the stolen vial that was supposed to be guarded by our VP of Field Operations, Boss Baby.
He's over there.
You may frown at him.
If old people plan to unveil their own Stinkless Serum tomorrow, we must make today our tomorrow.
- Huh? - Explanation: We are re-cracking Stinkless Serum ourselves, today.
All of you have been transferred to Research and Development as of when I finish this sentence.
There.
Done.
Drool stains.
Sweaty little baby booties.
Spit-up.
In total, eight bad baby smells.
Baby fatty roll crust? That's a Category Five baby odor, weapons grade.
Find a formula that will unstink them all.
So we're supposed to become experts in molecular chemistry by 5:00 p.
m.
? And for those of you worried about mastering molecular chemistry by 5:00 p.
m.
, allow me to sweeten the pot.
Forget about who you are, where you are, or what you've done to help or hurt Baby Corp.
If you solve the formula for Stinkless Serum, you get the job of CEO.
Ah! - I gotta crack that formula! - CEO! I am so gonna crack that formula! Boss, you could do it! 5:00 p.
m.
? I can't take that long.
I'll miss mini golf.
Forget 5:00 p.
m.
With my desperation and your chemistry skills, we'll have the serum cracked in an hour, tops.
What chemistry skills? You made that vinegar-baking soda thing that was supposed to go off in two min Somebody's brain exploded! Oh, yeah.
I'm awesome.
With the CEO job on the line, this place is about to get nuts.
Backstabbing, sabotage, alliances and betrayals.
As of right now, no one is trustworthy, not even you two.
What? Shame on me! Yeah, I'm pretty much capable of anything.
You want me to use my dark powers in your unholy service? - Yes, please.
- Cool.
Hey, come on.
You don't want to win dirty.
I thought you were in a hurry to get back for tiny golf.
I am.
But if I'm helping with this, we do it my way.
Your way? Or should I say, the way of Dr.
Baron Von Science Fair the Third! There's my mad chemist.
Bring me your smelliest challenge.
We will fight its bad smells with a concoction of good smells, and science away the stink.
Stanky Blankie! Ground cinnamon, plus tropical fruit gummi ducks! Mm-mm.
Bring me your second smelliest challenge! Goopy chupie! Fresh popcorn, plus those markers that smell like hot dogs! It makes me want to cry and barf and go doody all at once! We're getting nowhere! Your concoctions smell like wet dogs and Southern dumpsters! Keep cracking, Baby Corp.
Cast out your smelly missteps and point your noses achievement-ward! You're right.
We'd have to be mad to continue! Again! Fresh-baked bread! Candles from that store at the mall! Ginger ale burps! Werewolf Hot Rod! Uh, Werewolf Hot Rod? Every invention works better with a cool name.
That's a mad science fact.
Now put it to the test! Yes! Werewolf Hot Rod! It destinkified drool stains and spit-up! That's two bad smells down! - What? No! - No! - Boss Baby got two already! - But! Nothing to see, people! Eyes on your own work! Come on! - Darn it! - Why "darn it"? You've cracked two out of eight bad smells already.
I thought we'd be done by now.
This is gonna take forever! You're on a roll, Dr.
Baron.
- Just keep your head in the game.
- Don't say "game!" I'm trying not to think about the mini golf game back at home, and now I'm thinking about the mini golf game back at home.
Hoo-hoo! I solved spit-up smell! Look out, CEO job, I'm coming for you! The others are catching up.
Faster, Templeton! Think, think! We need a hole in one.
Ugh! I can't stop thinking about mini golf! You gotta unleash me, sir.
I can slow down the competition like molasses.
Sorry, I meant with molasses.
Or spider backpack.
Just so you know, that option's still on the table.
Hey! I said we don't have to win dirty.
But I really wanna! Jimbo can handle mixing Tim's science junk by himself.
Don't make me! I already got werewolf smell all over my fingers, and it's scaring me! Everybody calm down.
Staci, you know I love your twisted handiwork, but Templeton says he's got this.
Go make a supply run.
Cool down.
Fine! Jimbo, let's hose that werewolf stink off your hands.
Yay! - Templeton.
- Ten-minute golf break? - Sure.
- Yes! If you'll solve one more smell for me before you go.
Deal! Ah, come on! You're killing me, spit-up! Worker Baby Chip, right? What's wrong? Just can't seem to un-stink the grossed-out bib.
My serum works on the booties, the sour milk bottle You cracked sour milk bottle? Oh, yeah, that one was tough.
But I hear you solved the drool stains.
Yeah.
Now, that one was Wait.
If I've got drool stain beat, - and you've got sour milk - Swap formulas? Nuh-uh! I don't want to give your team an advantage when you're just a putt away from the winning shot.
Putt away! Winning shot! Putt away! Winning shot! Mini golf.
We have to swap formula secrets.
It would help both of us.
That's fair, right? That should fix sour milk for you.
And there's your drool-proof solution.
Oh, and real quick, can I borrow your stinkiest formula? This one smells like asparagus farts! Perfect! Finally, it's tee time for Tim! What's this? The solution for sour milk.
Golf break! Send me three beeps on the baby monitor if you have an emergency! You boys good to golf? Tim? Don't go in there! Bad asparagus sickness.
Wait.
I haven't bought any asparagus since That explains so much! Your mom and I are ready to putt whenever you are! - How's Magma Madness? - Fine.
Baby's sleeping.
We shouldn't talk about it anymore.
It might wake him.
Can we golf a different hole while we're waiting? Oh, well, sure, if you think you're ready to face the Labyrinth of Red-Footed Death! If you can sink it in the red shoe in less than three putts, you get double dessert for a week.
Triple desserts if I sink it in two.
It's on! - Yes! - One more putt to hit the red shoe.
Triple desserts on the line.
To the victor, fudgy glory.
Will Tim Templeton's parents be dealing with bedtime hyperactivity all week? What's that beeping? One of my toys is out of batteries.
Don't worry about it.
Whoops! Shoot! That leads downstairs.
I'm gonna have to go find that ball in the basement.
I might be a while, but don't come help me.
This is my responsibility! Bye! Way to play with honor, son! I was one putt away from triple desserts! This better be important.
Ugh! What's that smell? - That's the stink of betrayal! - What? That formula didn't solve sour milk! Expired cottage cheese, plus clam juice? Who thought that was gonna work? - But I traded with - Chip, of all babies? Chip who steals copy machines? I told you we couldn't trust anyone, but most of all, never trust a Chip! I did it! De-stunked another one! Sour milk, spit-up, sweaty baby booties, and drool stains! - Drool stains? - Impossible! How did he get that? Whoa! Four down, four to go.
Sniff my inevitable victory, loser babies! Bravo, Chip! Do I smell a future CEO? Not yet.
Keep working, babies.
We had a deal! It was fair! Don't cry over sour milk! I tried to warn you, Templeton.
You're in the corporate jungle now.
The only thing you can trust is your own success, and even that can stab you in the back.
Try it, Success! Don't feel too bad.
I'm sure your back wasn't the first one stabbed today, and it won't be the last.
Chief Exec! Chief Exec! Chief Hey! Chip, you rot! All your work was mine! We had an alliance, bro! Since when are you alliance buddies with Chip? I thought we were working together.
Not cool, Amal! - See? It wasn't just me! - Don't blame me for everything! It has begun.
Boss Baby! My partners all betrayed me, but they didn't take my notes.
- Maybe you and I could form an - No! Scat! Get out of here, Simmons! We're still high up on the leaderboard, and all the corporate zombies are gonna want a piece of our brains.
Don't let them eat my shot at being CEO.
Templeton, double time on the stinkless chemistry.
And get me back to mini golf.
Staci, take Jimbo with you.
The moment has come.
Wait.
What is Staci? Just making sure you and I can work without interference.
Keep them fighting, keep them panicked.
Just keep them away from the Boss and Tim.
- Come on, now! We had an agreement.
- You started it! How could you? Staci.
Hey.
I see Double B's riding second right behind Chip.
I'm thinking, if your team partnered up with me No! Your team and me! Chip's stealing your work again? What? I did not! But I totally would.
Eat chemistry, Chip! Yes! We got three more! What? Boss Baby's team solved Dirty Diaper and Stanky Blankie? I am still stuck on my second stink! I must know his secrets! Mad Dog Phil smells an opportunity to piggyback on others' success! They're hungry for ideas, and have none of their own! It's a corporate zombie invasion! How do we stop them? What? All of you want me to sabotage the hard work of Security Baby Katja? I will teach you the price of betrayal! Uncle's breath! I claim all your research as the spoils of war! - Hey! - No fair! You just made the mad dog rabid! Ha! I'm angry! Are you sure you want to win like this? Trust me, it'll all be worth it once I'm CEO.
It's been too long.
I need to check in at mini golf, and you should too.
It's the final 40 minutes.
Everything's on the line.
And Mom and Dad aren't going to believe you're napping forever.
I'm telling you, we need to do this.
Do you not even trust me anymore? Five minutes.
Whatever we need to do, you get us back here, ASAP.
There you two are! Did-did you not work on your golf holes at all? I guess we were too busy playing.
Well, Gigantic Rapids is ready to swing.
Come on, grab your club.
We'll do Magma Madness later.
Is it a long course? If I know your dad, it's gonna be brutal.
The Gator Moat of Croco-Death alone is a solid 20 minutes.
I rented a real iguana.
Fair warning, he's a biter.
What if I only have five minutes? You're a kid.
You've got nothing but free time.
Let's golf! Mom, Dad.
- I I don't want to play mini golf.
- What? I thought you loved it.
I do love spending time with you guys.
And I know you both love mini golf.
But I guess maybe I outgrew it.
Sorry, Tim.
I wish you'd have told us.
Okay.
No more inside-the-house mini golf.
I guess we'll find other traditions.
Thank you, Templeton.
You're the one person I can always count on.
I told them I hated mini golf.
I love mini golf! - Templeton, I I didn't intend to - Let's go crack your stupid serum, so I never have to think about this day again.
Pencils down.
No time to test it.
What do we call this one? Golf Slayer.
Templeton.
It's no inside-the-house family mini golf, but it's the best I can do.
Come on, I guarantee you a hole in one.
Boom, baby.
I hope you get the job.
This day was a rollercoaster ride, right down to the fear, the adrenaline, and the flying chunks of goop everywhere.
But my fears have been allayed and my hopes rewarded.
I am over the moon with excitement, bursting at the seams because Baby Corp once more has its Stinkless Serum! No way! Amazing! Do you think it was us? No, probably not.
Impossible.
Maybe? Gah! Just spill it! Congratulations to our winner, the next CEO of Baby Corp Boss Baby! Boss! You're the boss, Boss Baby! I'm the CEO? I'm the CEO! I did it! I'm happy you got what you wanted.
Celebrate today, Boss Baby! We'll make it official with the Board of Directors tomorrow.
Sorry, buddy.
You know it's my nature.
Hey, I respect the game.
- You're not partying with us? - I had to write a letter to my brother.
- Want me to give it to him? - Nah.
I'll just leave it on his new CEO desk for tomorrow.
Don't want to step on his big day.
- You're a good brother, Tim.
- Thanks.
It's been fun working with you, Jimbo.
Maybe I'll see you around.
- Huh? Where are you going? - I'm quitting the field team.
What? Hello? Miss, um, Turtleneck Superstar CEO Still-For-Now Baby? I'm just leaving something for my brother to read when he moves in.
Huh? Intervention! You are not quitting our field team! We don't accept this letter! That's not my letter.
It was already on the CEO's desk.
"Come and get her.
X-O-X-O" "Fred"! I think Estes kidnapped Turtleneck! But what does it mean? It means war.
Yeah! Inappropriate for the moment.
Yes, I can see that now.