The Middleman s01e06 Episode Script

The Boy-Band Superfan Interrogation

Fuzz.
Fuzz.
Lacey, are you pointing the dish to the southeast? 'Cause you have to.
How about now? Fuzz.
- Ooh, fuzzy porn.
- Sounds good to me.
- Help me in.
- Are you joking? What about Supremo-Destructo Martial Arts Combat Challenge? SMACC! This morning you were going on about how, despite your generally pacifistic ways, SMACC Is no mere bloodsport, but an outlet for man's primal angst in the barbaric sterility of the modern world.
So, Lace, how could you settle for fuzzy porn over the martial arts? I know I might have said martial arts is the most confrontational of all the arts, but that's before I was in danger of a multiple-story faceplant from adjusting our Cold War era hand-me-down satellite dish.
Oh, guys, I think it's coming in.
I see a crowd.
No.
It's Varsity Fanclub.
What's Varsity Fanclub? Only the most popular boy-band in the world.
How could you be alive and not know Varsity Fanclub, Dub-Dub? How can you know Varsity Fanclub and not want to end it all? Oh whoa uh, uh Oh whoa uh, uh Bad habit Oh whoa uh, uh Oh whoa uh, uh - What? - Oh, my God, you love them.
- I do not.
- You had all the dance moves down pat.
As if practiced all night every night.
Whatever, guys.
I'm a quick study.
And lying to us about your secret love for Varsity Fanclub.
I'm not having this conversation.
You know, Wendy Watson, I think we should buy Lacey Varsity Fanclub tickets.
Totally, for her 14th birthday.
Oh, look, the door.
I'll get it.
Hey.
Pip.
Wow.
Are my three favorite illegal subtenants having a party? Sure, you can come in.
I was just dropping by to invite you to my gallery show tomorrow night.
You got your two-hour-plus spoken word opus "Hey, Mr.
God" into a gallery show? No.
It's for my paintings.
You got your nude self-portrait into a gallery show? That was my sister.
And, no, my period of erotic sibling representation is over.
This gallery show, it's something new.
I'm calling it Deus Ex Pip.
It's Latin for "The Machines of Pip.
" That's not what it means.
Whatever! So, the deets.
Tomorrow night, The Gate.
Wait, The Gate? The gallery for up-and-coming artists? Sayonara, squatters.
I gotta see these paintings.
To the Internet.
How did that troglodyte get his paintings into The Gate? Oh, man, this photo of Pip! Oh, wait.
That isn't Oh, my God, that's my painting.
The Middleman Season 1, Ep 5 Is it lame clinging to the hope that despite all evidence to the contrary this is just a weird coincidence? Like the mutual discovery of DNA, or the collective unconscious? Come on, Carol, I wouldn't put anything beneath that scum-sucker.
He copied your painting.
Then Pip is a being of the purest, darkest evil.
And a confusing one.
Who bogarts your work and tells you? Don't worry, Dub-Dub.
Confrontation is my business.
Pip is about to reap the whirlwind.
That means we're gonna do bad things to him.
I'll give you a second.
- What is it, Ida? - Can't a woman just call? Maybe I'm lonely.
Seriously, can't this wait? I've got a crisis here.
There, there, buttercup, of course it can, if you don't mind there's been a rip in the fabric of space! You know, it's a good thing you have that nude self-portrait for when they do your facial reconstruction.
What is your major malfunction? If you're gonna copy my work at least be smart about it.
I went to the gallery website.
I saw the paintings you stole from me.
The paintings I stole from you? You know, Wendy, I didn't want to bring this up, but the thing is, your work is kind of exactly like mine.
You're trying to gaslight me? I'm just saying it's tough to prove who painted what when.
You're gonna reap the whirlwind, Pip.
That means we're gonna do bad things to you.
Ooh, let me guess, you and Lacey the wonderdog are going to douse fake blood on my canvasas or melt them with a hair dryer.
How could I share a roof with you guys after that? I'd have to call my dad and have you illegal subletters kicked out.
Same goes if my nose spontaneously breaks in the next few seconds.
Are we clear? Good.
I do hope to see you at the show.
Wow, there really is a hole in space.
With a duck caught inside.
Guess this kind of stuff really does draw a crowd.
Which one of our schmancy fake Ids are we gonna use to disperse this mob? No badge this time, Dubbie.
The present situation requires the derring-do of a different sort of ruse.
Ladies and gentlemen, what you see before you is no mere trick, for you are witness to the astonishing street magic of Rene the Remarkable, and my lovely assistant Uh, Marion the Enthusiastic.
Now, for my next bit of street magic That's it, folks.
Show's over.
- Nothing else to see - Yes.
Thank you for coming.
Please watch our show, coming this summer to basic cable.
- Drive safely now.
The fabric of space is tearing, a duck's life hangs in the balance, and you want to do card tricks? My magic flip of the fingers usually kills at a time like this.
It's a crack in space! To my untrained ears that sounds like a world-ending big deal.
Make no mistake, a crack in space is no laughing matter.
But what we have here is a warp hole.
Made properly, one of these babies can link any two points in the universe giving anyone the ability to travel anywhere, instantly.
Lucky for us, this hole's only half a drake deep.
So do we just yank out Howard, zip up the hole and be done with it? Only way to zip it back up is to find the machine that made it.
Meantime, We've got to remove the duck from the warp hole and take measures to keep any further lookie-loos from poking their noses where they don't belong.
Don't suppose we have a laser beam fence handy.
Better.
Pound for pound the most powerful deterrent force in the world.
Rene the Remarkable strikes again.
Vitals and intelligence within normal limits.
This duck is nothing more than an innocent victim.
Ida, punching a warp hole into the fabric of space requires an enormous amount of energy.
Get on the HEYDAR and do a global search.
No one can generate that much energy without leaving some trace.
Oh, give me a minute.
I'm tracking down the perfect orange sauce.
Now that's just depraved.
Wait, so soulless androids from parts unknown actually eat? - Take a step closer and find out.
- Bring it, Marvin.
Ladies, I'll not have this escalate into a donnybrook.
This duck's seen things no feather-bearing waterfowl should ever see.
Need to find the machine that opened that warp hole, and we need to find it now.
Oh, don't blow your diaper.
I'm on the case.
So what's in the box? Oh, every now and then a box comes in with weapons, gadgets and things Yeah, yeah, I got that on my first day.
I mean, specifically.
What's in the box? Ah.
Two small indistinguishable gizmos.
That's not necessarily the case.
One's a truth bomb, the other a concussive stun field generator.
You can tell by just looking? Books, Dubbie, are our friends.
Gee, Sugar Britches, don't make us wait for the inevitable wisecrack.
Yeah.
Heart's not in it today, Ida.
Hold the onions.
Wendy Watson too glum to tte tte? This is most unusual.
It's nothing, really.
Just Some art stuff's getting to me.
Ooh, art stuff.
I'm scintillated.
If you're not firing on all cylinders the Middle Organization is not firing on all cylinders.
Pip, the malignant nematode son of my building owner is ripping me off - and selling my work in a gallery.
- Just back up 200 feet! Did you say you're being plagiarized? That's dirty pool.
I'll clean his clock.
Wait.
What happened to taking the middle road, and using violence as a last resort? There's no negotiating with plagiarists, Dubbie.
You take credit for a man's ideas, you rob his spirit.
It's one thing to forego credit for saving the world as a Middleman, but art and the artists behind it are what make the world worth saving.
I agree.
You should quit immediately and pursue your art full-time.
Look, as buoyed as my spirits are by your mutual outpouring of support this is my problem.
I will deal with it.
She means with doobage.
I'm finding something.
It won't take me more than a few seconds to pin it down.
Chocoholics Anonymous! Ida! - Somebody pinged me.
- Pinged you? How? There's another HEYDAR out there.
She's my sister.
She's my daughter.
My sisterMy daughter Another HEYDAR.
They're scanning my circuits.
Unplug me.
Blue, blue! She's in blue screen crash.
What are we supposed to do, hit Control-Alt-Delete? Dubbie, I have an important question before I activate this.
Answer truthfully.
- Are you pregnant? - Are you kidding? I'm as serious as Mao-Tse Tung's heart attack.
No! Is there any chance you might be pregnant? Only with anticipation of what you'll do with that tubey gizmo thing.
Seriously, Dubbie, no chance? - I'm pretty sure - Pretty sure's not sure.
You want me to go into the stark and ??? details of my post-Ben dry spell where the only things I see when I meet a guy are the 428 pressure points that incapacitate him? Oy gevalt! I am seriously considering changing my stance on capital punishment.
- Really? - No.
I star-69'd that second HEYDAR.
I've got an address.
Whoever did this, I want payback.
Dr.
Elliot Marshall, Henry Jones University.
Professor of theoretical physics.
Think about it, Bubbie.
In the exact same day we're looking for someone punching holes in space, an unlicensed HEYDAR, a device only Middlemen are supposed to have, hacks into our system.
Coincidence? I don't think so.
It's Lacey.
You mind if I get this? Bill of Rights says OK.
- Hey, roomie.
- Hey, Wendy Watson.
Noser and I are at the screen printers.
I have the idea to print protest T-shirts for everyone to wear at Pip's opening tomorrow night.
Can you say public humiliation? - Guys, stop.
- Why? Lace, you don't have to turn everything into a piece of confrontational art.
Is this a situational thing, or you asking me to rethink my entire life? I just want you to let me handle this.
My own way.
Please? Pretty please? Look, I gotta let you go.
My boss is giving me an inordinately weird look.
What's with the inordinately weird look? Nothing.
It's just this Pip situation really steams my clams.
I'm no advocate of reckless strong-arm tactics and physical coercion.
but remember, Dubbie, people, people like myself, people who are trained, can do things, things that hurt.
That's fascinating.
Turn here.
Steel yourself.
These mad scientist types can be tough nuts to crack.
Anti-establishment weirdoes, all of them.
If I have to give them a taste of the hard candy, avert your eyes.
Or watch.
See what I can do.
Hi.
Can I help you? - Dr.
Elliot Marshall? - Yes.
Agents Brody and Forrestal of the Federal Unified Atomic Regulatory Commission.
Central's tracked a power spike to this house.
We have reason to believe it's due to the activity of an unlicensed HEYDAR.
Really? Wow.
Am I under arrest? Depends on your level of cooperation.
I'd love to cooperate.
Come in, I'll show you my lab.
Come on.
So HEYDAR is the one that looks like Silver ball that gives us answers to things.
Silver ball, yeah.
Exactly.
Doctor, would you please identify this device for me? Of course, yes.
Uh, that is It's kind of complicated.
Uh Dad! If you'll excuse me just a sec.
My daughter, Cindy.
These nano-circuits are far beyond the most sophisticated man-made tech I've seen.
Think that's our warp hole puncher? I don't know.
But it seems to be missing a power source.
This is darn fishy.
Really? What? That Dr.
Nimrod, Ph.
D.
has all this high tech in here, but can't tell his HEYDAR from his elbow? Or that he's supposed to be a dangerous anti-establishment type, but he let us flash a badge and waltz into his top secret super lab? Actually, I was referring to the height of these lab tables.
They're, uh, kind of low, aren't they? Your goose is cooked, baby.
I'm free, once and for all, I'm Aah! Really low lab tables.
Who are you? And what do you want with that black box? Gosh darn idiots! See you in hell! Dubbie, that is one fast Huffy.
I've never seen she behaves that way.
Did she ever mention building a machine capable of punching holes in the fabric of space? I know it must be hard to accept your child's capable of such menace She's not really my daughter.
That repugnant little moppet landed on my doorstep one day with fake adoption papers and a promise.
If I did as she said, she'd get me tenure at the university.
What did she have you do? Our lab equipment is all physics department property.
Tenure was just a lie she used to get me to steal it.
She blackmailed me for stealing it.
I want out.
Then tell us.
The black box, what does it do? I don't know.
All she'd tell me is it's next to useless without the right battery.
That's all you know about it? That's practically all I know about her.
Cindy's been here for a year, but only two things stood out.
- This lab - And? Varsity Fanclub? Varsity Fanclub.
The world's most popular boy-band.
If you're a fan, just kill me now.
I'm a country man.
Jimmie Rogers, the Carter family, Hank.
But I've always been fascinated by the ability of preassembled sets of submasculine archetypes to tug at the heartstrings of a 12-to-17-year-old fan base.
Funny.
I've always been fascinated by their ability to bring up my lunch.
I think Cindy'd take issue with that.
If we're gonna figure her out, we have to figure them out.
You have Jayk, the crooner.
Thomas, the heartthrob.
Bobby, the street tough.
Drew, the charmer.
And the requisite man of mystery, David.
Is Drew a guy or? Why do you think David needs a cane? - Crazy, isn't it? - It's no joke, Dubbie.
Jayk, Bobby, Thomas, Drew and David have themselves one seriously depraved fan, a 14-year-old warp hole punching menace with a profoundly mysterious little black box.
Hey.
Despite my better judgment, I ran another HEYDAR scan.
Way to climb back on the horse, Ida.
Helps to be devoid of human weakness.
Now get a load of these hot tamales.
No power source yet, but I found five more warp holes, each incrementally smaller than the duck-sucker you saw this morning.
The smallest one is barely the size of Wendy's brain.
Get it? 'Cause it's small.
So it seems the holes are growing larger.
Maybe she's trying out batteries.
- Where are they? - Oh, all over tarnation.
Newark, Toledo, Albany Kalamazoo and Cleveland.
That's right.
How'd you know that? Varsity Fanclub's tour map.
The warp holes open up at each of the stops on their tour.
Solid sleuthing, inspector.
Where are they playing tonight? Metro Theater, here in town.
Varsity Fanclub should be performing a sound check as we speak.
Now, let's try to get there before that little girl sucks the band through a hole.
In space.
- Lace? - We were right about - that whole Pip thing.
- You were? Yeah.
Why do I have to turn everything into a performance piece? This is a legal issue, not an aesthetic one.
OK.
Which is why we hired a lawyer.
You did what? It's our good friend Joe 90.
Joe 90? That guy from 5A who makes those creepy phallic sculptures? And you're on speakerphone.
Not only is Joe 90 a talented artist, but, also, he's a law student.
- Former.
- Former law student, who thinks you might totally, possibly, have a case against Pip, maybe.
Absolutely.
If you have any way to prove when you began painting your works, we could file a an injunction.
Will you put me on un-speakerphone? Lacey, please, I know you guys love me but a half-baked, genitally-preoccupied law student isn't gonna do me any good.
Tell me you have a plan, Dub-Dub.
Tell me there's some hellaciously Byzantine revenge strategy at work that you can't tell me about.
You gotta stop, OK? I promise you, everything's gonna work out the best.
Isn't that enough? I didn't hear the words "hellaciously Byzantine" or "revenge," but it'll have to be.
I could tie him to a chair.
Just sayin'.
The rest takes care of itself.
I gotta get it from your love baby Scream, girl Scream your love for real Let's tell the whole world so they can know how I feel - Scream, girl - Cut it! David, if you can't get this right by showtime, we're gonna be a four-member band, got it? OK.
Sorry, it's the biggest show of the tour tonight.
Security tells me you're from TLI.
Threat Liquidators Incorporated.
We're a boutique security firm specializing in high-risk celebrity clients.
- Haven't heard of you.
- We keep a low profile, but I assure you we work with the best and most threatened names in the business.
I can't break confidentiality, but I will say a certain metal band with a singer predisposed to shout "Ya-yee, yeah, yeah" is on our list.
And you think Varsity Fanclub needs protection? Sir, during a routine monitor of fan chatter on the various inter-, intra-, sub- and extra-nets, we came across a threat warranting your notification.
What's going on here, Jack? This dude thinks we're in danger.
Meet Cindy Marshall, classic threat level three.
We'd like to manage your security free of charge.
Or, for maximum security, aid you in canceling your show entirely.
- Whoa, whoa, no.
- Hey, go get the books.
Look, we dig you coming down here to warn us.
Yeah, guys.
This Cindy is not the first fan a few sandwiches shy.
There's not a single girl in here who hasn't threatened to kill us, kill for us, maim us, or maim someone for us.
What's this one? It's parents of the girls we slept with.
David didn't always have that cane.
Ah.
So thanks, man, but we're cool.
We got tip-top security.
And as they say, the show must - Go on - On Excuse me.
Ida, you have an update? Yeah, I'm buying Wilderness Girl cookies.
You like Skinny Mints, right? Uh, Bora Boras, actually.
I find the mix of caramel and conut tasty and refreshing.
Is this some sort of esoteric joke, or do you have an update? No! I'm back at the ranch with an adorable Wilderness Girl buying cookies.
You know how much I love adorable little girls, 'cause I love little girls so much.
Ida, can you contain her until Ida? Cindy's at Jolly Fats.
We clear every room.
Chutes and Ladders.
She ripped out Ida's battery.
Is she dead? She's an android, Dubbie.
The words life and death have zero relevance to her condition at any point of time.
Well, looks like Cindy gave us the slip.
So what now? Now? I'd suggest you avert your eyes.
Why? Concussive stun field generator.
Yeah.
She's pretty cute for an alien.
Are you sure? Only thing that makes sense, given her know-how and abilities and how handily she dispatched Ida to get to her battery.
I'd never thought I'd say it, but I'm gonna miss the walking, talking, insulting version.
And you, don't think you can come in here with those big sad eyes and get a promotion off of this.
The HEYDAR tells me, now powered with Ida's battery, this black box generates particle waves with the exact opposite polarity of those recorded within the warp hole's event horizon.
Dubbie, this isn't the warp hole generator.
This is a reverse switch for the warp hole generator.
So the Ida-killing obsessed fan is a good guy now? If I rob a bank and close the vault behind me, am I a good guy? If this box is ever activated, Ida's battery will be depleted.
So how do we get the little delinquent to talk? Cindy, I won't mince words.
You're in a real tight spot.
You're a mysterious alien, using alien technology, in a world you didn't make.
That means no trial, no clemency.
I'll offer but one chance to save yourself.
Who are you, where is the warp hole generator, and what does this have to do with Varsity Fanclub? Don't bother, kid.
Those cuffs have more tech in 'em than ten of your little science labs.
Your dark side powers are useless here.
I'll begin again.
- Who are you? - My name is Quithaalian Rii.
My rank is Commander Mark Two, and my service number is X700-3T-Epsilon-5.
Sorry.
Name, rank, and serial number won't cut it with me.
What's your business here on Earth? Come on, commander! There's no sense holding back now.
My name is My rank is mark two, and my service number is X700, you slimy before I shove a boot up your! Wait a minute.
Say that again.
sucking smacking munching Yank! No, no, the serial number Never mind.
I've got it.
Ida, run a search on the Let's see what ESDI has to say about our uninvited houseguest.
ESDI? Extraterrestrial Serial Data Index.
Cindy here is a soldier from the war-torn Clothar galaxy.
A rebel soldier, by the looks of her serial number.
- A rebel soldier? - Yes.
According to ESDI, rebel forces fought against the Pentharcs of Clothar, five nefarious oligarchs, who held the galaxy in the thrall of oppression.
OK, so Cindy isn't just an alien masquerading as a 14-year-old girl, she's a rebel alien soldier sent to Earth to close warp holes? Even ESDI has limits.
Either way, the implications of a member of her species on Earth With access to warp hole technology are gravely unsettling.
Jeez, Elroy, what do you want? I am High Aldwin, supreme commander of the Clotharian Rebel Fleet.
It's a message beamed to us from billions of miles away.
This is a message beamed to you from billions of miles away.
By executive decree 24, five, 17, eight, 93, 55 two, 39, three.
You are hereby ordered to release Special Forces Agent, earth name Cindy Marshall, with her instrument to complete her most vital mission.
With all due respect, I invoke the Scrolls of Xanthor and demand an explanation of Cindy's mission.
The Scrolls of Xanthor? Your acumen with Clotharian law is impressive.
- Yeah, seriously.
- Very well.
Five years ago the Pentharcs of Clothar were captured and sentenced to exile to your pathetic planet where they would live out their days in disgrace, or so we thought.
The Pentharcs' plan for escape is sheer elegance in its simplicity.
They formed the boy-band, Varsity Fanclub.
The boy-band Varsity Fanclub is actually five intergalactic dictators? And through a rigorous schedule of promotion and touring, amassed a fortune atop your popular music charts, so they might build a device capable of warping them back to Clothar Five.
That truly is sheer elegance in its simplicity.
So now you see why Cindy must be allowed to complete her mission.
But the battery powering her little black box Silence! Once activated, the black box will emit a disturbance wave, reversing the warp hole generator, and unleashing an explosive shock wave to vaporize the Pentharcs once and for all.
Nice and neat.
However, if you do not obey, should you interfere with the completion of Cindy's mission, the entire Clotharian Rebel Fleet shall open a warp hole to your world and finish off your planet without mercy.
Tell me you're not walking with purpose to release Cindy.
I am walking with purpose to release Cindy.
Are you sniffing glue? We're just supposed to blindly follow the orders of some intergalactic Monty Python wannabe? If they sent those five psychos to Earth this is their problem, not ours.
- Why should we? - No choice.
If we stop Cindy from using her black box to close those warp holes, the entire world pays the price.
She'll use that black box and kill Ida.
- That she will.
- Ida's your friend.
Ida doesn't deserve to go out like this, and you know it.
Are you trying to make this harder on me than it already is? Sometimes you have to take one on the chin, Dubbie.
Based on what I've seen of you today you know that better than you let on.
The eyes of your paintings are on you, Wendy Watson.
Oh, good Lord, Lace.
Do you hear their cries? They cry for justice, for you to step up and Pip's blackmailing me.
He is? - With what? - Eviction.
Eviction? I can't swing the rent on this place alone.
He might as well evict us both.
Oh, he will.
You, me, Noser.
Half the building, if I interfere with his show.
We'll just have to explain to everybody, and if it comes down to it Lacey, no.
Yes, Dub-Dub.
And, if it comes down to it, we're just gonna have to move out.
Move where? We can barely afford our illegal sublet.
It doesn't matter.
What matters is your art.
Hey, this place is just a unrealistically affordable yet fantastically large loft.
But it isn't.
If we get kicked out, you'll move back home; and Noser will go live with his parents in Monaco.
And Joe 90 will probably move into one of those weird utopian co-ops where everyone's naked all the time.
All of our art gang shenanigans will be over.
No more Art Crawl, Cable Fridays, Thursday night drunk, Name That Stanza, Stump the Band, all gone.
I am just mumbling Let the words hang in the air Why didn't you just tell? I guess I just thought, you know, this is my cross to bear.
It hurts, Lace, but, you know what? A few paintings or my awesomely bizarre family? Sometimes you just gotta take one on the chin.
No, Dub-Dub.
I'm sorry.
I can't believe that.
And I don't think you do, either.
It's tonight I'm going back to where we both belong Hello, young lady.
Welcome to the Jolly Fats Wehawkin Employment Agency.
So now we have to run the front too? I don't know.
A Middleman's never been without Ida before.
Lots of stuff for us to do now, like, uh, paperwork.
Interrodroid 4000 is all thumbs with the stuff.
Ida loved paperwork.
Yeah, Ida loved a lot of things.
Like belittling my every accomplishment.
- Mmm.
- Calling me a drug addict.
Threatening me with physical harm.
Well, she was a pistol.
You know, we may have agreed not to interfere with Cindy, but that doesn't mean we can't console our grief by going to see Varsity Fanclub in concert.
Hmm.
And, perhaps, should we stumble on the device they're using to punch their hole in space, destroy it before Cindy gets a chance to use her black box.
Your tickets are totally better than mine.
Sometimes it's good to be the Middleman.
Come on, Dubbie, let's lay down tracks.
Girl, I've got some things to say Sit down Put your phone away Don't let the interruptions You see Cindy? Keep your peepers peeled.
You're trying to cut me off, baby Hi.
I'm, like, the world's biggest fan and I'm collecting signatures from all of Varsity Fanclub's crew.
Could you sign my shirt? Sure.
You know, I don't get these guys.
We've got five Great Gazoos who want to go home and unleash their doomsday device.
What else is there to know? This seems like a pretty cush gig.
Look at the stage.
Whole thing's an applause meter.
Hawks of the Luftwaffe! That's it, you cracked it.
That fancy applause meter isn't just decoration, it's a scream harvester.
Scream harvester? In layman's terms, a giant battery.
Well, if that's the battery, where's the warp hole generator? That's just it, Dubbie.
The entire stage is the warp hole generator.
Don't you see? That's why Ida couldn't locate a power source with the HEYDAR.
Only tweenage screams of ecstasy have the strength to cut a hole in space itself.
How could I not see it before? Uh, because it's completely insane? So insane it just might work.
That scream-o-meter is getting pretty high.
Look above the stage.
And that would be a warp hole.
Lightning round, Dubbie.
Our irascible teen alien's going to activate that black box any moment.
If there's any chance to save Ida we've got to find Cindy and find her now.
Head to the backstage entrance.
You know the drill.
I'm Sgt.
Ravenwood, you're Sgt.
Jones.
- You do the talking.
- Yep.
I never forget You got me goin' in circles Pull out a lash and blow on it, Dubbie.
It's gonna be a nail-biter.
Tread careful.
This stinks of Cindy.
Everybody, it's time to scream your love for me.
Let's rock! One, two, three Scream your love for me If you want more, baby You're gonna have to scream Scream your love - Trail ends here.
Now what? - I'm not sure.
There's something tugging at me.
That would be me, you stupid Cindy! She's been shot.
Damn right I have.
Right in the old breadbasket.
Cindy, listen to me It's the black box.
Gimme! Scream it! Feelin' your strength makes me feel all whole - Scream, girl - Come on! Gotta be another way.
The warp hole generator's just a machine with vulnerabilities.
Your weapons are useless.
I'd have used them if I could.
That box is the only thing that can seal the hole and kill those maggot-eating Scream, girl All your love could never cause a strain You want to know the real bitch of it? I was two weeks from retirement.
Cindy.
Cindy! Scream, girl Scream your love for me You gotta give me some of your lovin' Wait.
There has to be another way.
There's no time.
If you will scream, girl - What about Ida? - We tried, Dubbie.
At least we gave her that.
So let's scream I can't believe it.
Ida's battery's really dead.
We've lost her.
But we've saved the world as we know it.
Come on, cowgirl.
Better saddle up before the fuzz gets here.
I really like to think I'm beyond influences.
Now, is it too much to say at this point I'm influencing myself? This is very much the opposite of cool.
Hello, ladies, Noser.
I've got an interview, but I'm so glad you came.
Uh, pretty sure at this point you can drop the act.
Act? You've defeated unknown Wendy Watson, who was never even competing with you.
Enjoy your success.
I'll be here, hanging with the friends you've lost.
I won't be hanging.
When you do that interview, and you see my eyes, you'll see a mirror staring back.
And you will be moved by truth and shame and whatever good is still left in you to renounce your sins.
Yeah.
Or not.
You know you could never wash that cheek.
What's Sexy Boss Man doing here? Hey, what are you doing here? Uh, settling a score.
You might not want to be here a moment from now.
Are you gonna kill him? Only his painting career.
Ma'am.
The way I see it, I was brought into this world against my will I mean, because I would have chosen to have actual talent instead of doing what I did, which was to steal Wendy Watson's art.
Excuse me? I'm sorry.
Uh, what I meant to say was I snuck into Wendy Watson's apartment and digitally photographed her paintings so as to copy them.
Lord, what's happening to me? I can't stop.
- Oh, my God.
- My gaze.
It's working! I am a talentless hack.
I know that.
Everyone knows.
Why pretend? I stole her paintings.
I stole them all.
Clap for the real artist.
To Wendy Watson! Their eyes.
I can't escape their eyes.
- You set off a truth bomb? - Yep.
I thought we weren't supposed to use Middlegear to solve personal problems.
Well, there's personal, Dubbie, and then there's personal.
Wait.
You're not immune to the truth bomb, are you? No, I am not.
So, if I asked you a question, you'd have to answer it? That I would.
What's your name? My name is the same as my father's.
Take care, Miss Watson.
Drive safely.
I don't even like art.
I'm just here for the babes.
That's nothing.
I'm a critic and I'm colorblind.
I've taken the bar 16 times.
I can't believe my words actually got through to Pip.
To confrontation.
Guess he's gonna have a lot of checks to return, huh? Yeah, when they find him.
It shouldn't be too hard.
Last thing I heard he was running down the street screaming, "Their eyes, their eyes!" You comin'? Something tells me we're in for a microbrew-fueled round or two of Name That Stanza.
There's something quick I gotta do, but don't start the Beat poets round without me.
Ginsberg's ass is mine.
Nice bugle.
Oh.
Thank you.
It was my father's.
You know, I didn't have a chance to thank you at the gallery.
And I just An artist should never have to hide her work, Dubbie.
You are living a double double life.
In my humble opinion, that's one double life too many.
That's why you stopped by? To thank me? Guess I just wanted to say goodbye.
You know The idea that her sacrifice'd lead to peace and prosperity for hundreds and billions of aliens, not to mention save Earth itself, think it would have really ticked her off.
That's a good one.
Now, if you'd both please excuse me, I'd really appreciate a moment to mourn alone.
I'll see you tomorrow.
Hey! Finish rolling that spliff and get me out of here, you dope fiend.
Ida? Is that really you? You bet your Bosco it's really me.
I'm back! What is this, recess? Let's get our world saving on.

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