Thunderbirds Are Go! (2015) s02e20 Episode Script
The Man From TB5
[BEEPS.]
FAB 1 to International Rescue.
Lady Penelope.
Is everything OK? It is.
I just wanted to thank you again for International Rescue's donation to my charity auction.
Some of the wealthiest people in the world will be there to support my wildlife preserve, and I expect this to fetch a good price.
Glad to help.
Enjoy the party.
Did I hear "party"? Need a date? I can be there in no time.
[WHISPERS.]
Scott, let me borrow Thunderbird 1.
Er, thank you, Gordon, but I already have a date.
- John? - [LAUGHS.]
No way! You actually got him to leave Thunderbird 5?! I thought your brother could use a little fresh air.
[WHINES.]
He wanted it kept quiet.
What But I'm the obvious choice.
John hates social anything.
Besides, who's gonna do space-monitor duty? - Funny you should mention that.
- I had to ask.
[CHUCKLES.]
Walked into that one.
And who do you think's taking him up there? [GROANS.]
About there, M'Lady.
The Chateau Traverse dead ahead.
[MUSIC.]
That's pretty amazing, actually.
Speaking of amazing, how do you like that custom tuxedo I designed? It fits just fine, Brains.
But didn't you notice all the cool hidden functions? Like the secret radio in your collar.
This isn't a spy mission, Brains.
It's just a quiet little charity auction.
I may have understated the "quiet" part a a bit.
And the "little".
[CAMERAS CLICKING.]
[INDISTINCT EXCITED CHATTER.]
International Rescue [SIGHS.]
I have a situation.
REPORTER: Lady Penelope, over here! NARRATOR: Five Four Three Two One! [THRUSTERS.]
[TITLE MUSIC.]
Thunderbirds are go.
LADY PENELOPE: John, are you all right? I thought there'd be a lot less this.
People, talking, in person.
I mean, communications is my job.
I talk to people all over the world.
I'd just rather do it from space.
Exactly why I wanted to get you off that station.
Well, Lady Penelope.
You do like to elevate a party? [LAUGHS.]
Er, who's this? - A friend, Mr Bottomsley.
If you'll excuse us.
- Hm.
Bernard Bottomsley, proof that money doesn't buy class.
And that's Umberto Sandalio.
I'm aiming to pry a sizable donation from his miserly grip.
I hope an auction item catches his eye.
Place like this is a hotbed for pickpockets.
In my day, this would have been a goldmine.
No-one is going to pick anyone's pockets tonight.
Not while I'm on watch, M'Lady.
- Oh.
Excuse me a moment.
- BRAINS: Come in, John.
- Agh! - This is Brains.
For your information, your tie is a photon scrambler that obscures your face from photographs.
Your jacket arms contain stabilising foam.
Your socks can instantly turn magnetic, and did I mention the cufflinks? Will they make me invisible to crowds? Oh, why didn't I think of that? Are you sure about this? I mean, I can take us up there - in Thunderbird 3.
- But why not take John's way up? [CLEARS THROAT.]
EOS, lower the space elevator, please.
EOS: Voice print not recognised.
Voice print? It's me, Gordon Tracy.
Palm not recognised.
Bit dirty, don't you think? - Try the facial scanner.
- Oh.
Hairstyle not recognised, and not very stylish.
- We speak of this to no-one.
- To the rocket! [MUSIC.]
Thunderbird 3 is go.
Umberto, I do hope you see something worth bidding on tonight.
[WITH SPANISH ACCENT.]
Not likely, and the canapes are atrocious.
I was just going to complain to the staff.
WOMAN: What exactly do you do, dear boy? Me? [STUTTERS.]
I-I-I work in space.
Space? What a coincidence.
We just bought the penthouse in the new Estrella Orbital.
Perhaps we'll see you there sometime.
- Considering my line of work, for your sake, I hope not.
- Oh.
[PANTING.]
[MUSIC.]
[GROWLS.]
[INDISTINCT WHISPERING.]
Right you are about those two.
Whoa! Er Wonderful party, isn't it? Eh? He's cheered up.
No kitchen staff? [WHIMPERS.]
[MUFFLED SCREAMS.]
- Good grief, it's - You weren't supposed to see that.
Indeed.
Now drop that weapon, or I'll be obliged to serve you a Parker Haymaker.
GORDON: Uh EOS? Since when does it take half an hour to open an airlock? EOS: Got to get the pressure just right.
Wouldn't want you to get blown into space, now, would we? Ding.
Airlock pressurised.
Could you open the door, please? Sorry, didn't catch the access code.
[CHUCKLES.]
We've never needed an access code before.
New protocol.
Protection against space pirates.
I think we need an assist from "Mr Party".
Yeah, that, or I'm using explosives.
[COMM BEEPS.]
Thunderbird 3 to John.
Your housekeeper would like an access code.
[SIGHS.]
The code is, "EOS, let them in, or I'll swap your processors with a pocket calculator.
" - Code accepted.
- Thanks, John.
[MUSIC.]
[GRUNTS.]
[CLANKING.]
[GRUNTS.]
BLOND MAN: Zap him, Charlie! [SCREAMS.]
Get this dog off me! What do you think I'm trying to do? You keep getting in the way! [APPLAUSE.]
Welcome, everyone, and [CLATTERING.]
.
.
and they're obviously preparing our very delicious dessert.
[LAUGHTER.]
Our first auction item is a gracious donation from International Rescue.
These pilot wings were worn by world-famous astronaut Jeff Tracy himself.
[GUESTS MURMUR.]
We'll open the bidding at $10,000.
- Do we have ? - $20,000! $20,000 to Mr Bottomsley.
MAN: $50,000.
[GUESTS EXCLAIM.]
- Er, $60,000! - $70,000.
- $100,000! - $100,000.
- Going once - $1 million.
It appears we have a winner.
Thank you for your generous donation, Mr Sandalio.
And how does he expect to pay for it? - By robbing us? - That's exactly right.
[ALL GASP.]
[MUSIC.]
The Hood.
Since I was so wrongly left off the guest list, I borrowed the real Sandalio's appearance instead.
Pickpockets.
I knew it! Block the exits.
[ALL CLAMOURING.]
If I wasn't thrown off by the party, I would have seen this coming.
Scott, International Rescue, come in.
My phone It doesn't work.
You needn't bother calling for help.
A five-mile-wide jamming bubble is being broadcast around this entire cliff.
No communication can get in or out.
Your vehicles won't operate either, but by all means feel free to call each other if it makes you feel better.
It seems you have us all trapped.
What is it exactly you want, Hood? My plans require substantial resources.
You really think we've brought bags of money here for you to steal? Of course not.
I'm going to digitally pick your pockets.
Digitally? [SCOFFS.]
What makes you think I'd willingly give you any of my money, eh? Because I've placed laser cutters on the cables that hold up this chateau.
Would you like a demonstration? [BEEPS.]
[ALL EXCLAIM.]
I won't be snipping any more cables so long as you all comply.
Just get it over with.
This one doesn't show up on the system.
- Who exactly are you? - Me? Nobody.
I won a ticket at work.
That'll be double from you then, M'Lady.
John, we can't let him do this.
As long as the Hood is holding the control to the laser cutters, he calls the shots, but if I could get outside, - I could try and disable them.
- You'll need a distraction.
- Parker? - Right away, M'Lady.
[BARKS.]
Oi! If you're gonna rob us, at least have the decency to serve proper can-apes! GORDON: For the tenth time, EOS, please display status on any emergency broadcasts.
EOS: I checked.
No emergencies of note.
I'd like to see the reports myself.
I'm not sure you'd understand them, but I found a wonderful puppet show you might find entertaining.
[SIGHS.]
What about your other malfunctions? Food processors, toilets? [THUD.]
[GRUNTS.]
- Gravity? - Sorry, still offline.
If John were here, I'm sure he could get them working.
Gordon to John.
Your AI is being evil again.
[STATIC.]
EOS? It's not me this time.
- "This time"? - I mean I can't reach him either.
- How can I assist? - Open a channel to Tracy Island.
[PARKER GROANS.]
You've got me, Mr Hood.
[MUSIC.]
Just a few more minutes, and I'll be on my way.
Once I'm beyond the effects of this jamming bubble, your money will be mine.
SCOTT: We aren't able to contact them either.
It gets pretty foggy out there.
Could that be messing up the comms? It would take more than fog to block our communicators.
We should check it out, but let's use stealth.
- We don't wanna disturb the party.
Kayo, you're up.
- F-A-B.
[MUSIC.]
[WHIRRS.]
KAYO: Thunderbird Shadow is go.
Whoa! [SIGHS.]
I'll still take this over the crowds.
[TABLET COMPUTER BEEPS.]
Our business here is complete.
Thank you for your generosity.
Not with my money, you don't! Hey! [BONE CRACKS.]
Ow! Fool! You've activated the laser cutters! - This place is doomed.
- Then so are you.
Your concern is touching, but we have our own way out.
[GLASS SHATTERS.]
[MUSIC.]
[GUESTS SCREAMING.]
John, we may have a slight problem.
I can't stop the laser cutter, but I can slow it down.
This should buy you some time to get everyone to safety until the next cable breaks.
Aagh! [GASPS.]
Huh! Magnetic socks.
Good thinking, Brains.
[MUSIC.]
Thunderbird Shadow to Tracy Island.
I've arrived at the chateau.
Still no contact with John.
Mayday.
Structure compromised.
Scott, we need you now.
SCOTT: F-A-B.
Scrambling Thunderbird 1.
I'm attempting rescue.
Agh! [WHIRRING DOWN.]
Ship functions are down.
Losing control.
[AVIONICS BEEPING.]
[GASPS.]
I have to break off.
- What just happened? - Some kind of dampening field.
Your ship is useless in there.
If my ship is useless, I'll just lose the ship.
F-A-B.
Slaving Thunderbird Shadow to my control.
Kayo to John.
I'm on my way.
JOHN: Kayo! Pursue the Hood.
You need to get hold of the Hood's tablet and destroy it.
F-A-B.
Oh! You expect me to slide down that wire? What, in a dining chair? No, Bottomsley.
I expect you to help the others first, and if you're lucky, you'll get to leave before this whole place falls down on your head like a rock.
There you go, Sherbert.
[DOG WHIMPERS.]
Now, you'll be all right.
I'll be along soon.
[PARKER STRAINING.]
[MUSIC.]
What was it you said, Brains? The jacket arms contain stabilising foam.
FLIER: Aaagh! FLIER 2: Whoa! Kayo.
How appropriate you'd witness my greatest triumph.
Triumph? This is just another petty theft.
[MUSIC.]
Far from petty.
Once I'm past this jamming bubble, unlimited wealth will be mine! I'll get back on top no matter what it takes.
- All I need is money.
- Other people's money.
Agh! Let me go! Gotcha! [RUMBLING.]
LADY PENELOPE: John, we have about half the people out.
Good.
Any suggestions on how to bring down a ten-tonne rock? [SIGHS.]
Surely you have something up your sleeve? Actually, I do.
Brains said something about cufflinks.
Whoa! He put a laser up my sleeve.
Agh! That should do it until that laser cutter finishes its job.
I've just cleared the jamming bubble.
Begin money uplink.
[BEEPING RAPIDLY.]
[LAUGHS WICKEDLY.]
No! You've dealt me a setback.
Allow me to return the favour! Whoa! SCOTT: John, the jamming bubble's gone.
- Nice work, Kayo.
- No problem.
Hang tight.
I'm coming to get ya.
John! [ALL GASP.]
No! [DOG WHIMPERS.]
Oh.
[MUSIC.]
[DOG BARKS.]
SCOTT: I got you, party boy.
Thanks, Scott.
Just put me down anywhere.
Anywhere anywhere but here.
JOHN: EOS has something she'd like to say.
- Right, EOS? - EOS: Yes.
You both weren't completely useless after all.
- Thanks.
- Gee, thanks.
Much appreciation for fishing FAB 1 out of the sea.
Good thing this baby's waterproof.
And after you saved their money and their lives, the guests have all donated very generously to the wildlife preserve.
Well, the news seems to be filled with reports of the mystery rescuer who saved them.
Huh.
"As yet, the rescuer remains unidentified.
Oddly, his face was completely blurred in every picture.
" [LAUGHS.]
Thanks to Brains.
You really can't be too prepared.
Actually, this revealed at least 12 more things to put into that tuxedo.
I better get to work.
Oh, and one more thing, John.
I've been sent dozens of messages inviting the mysterious hero to parties everywhere.
Should I forward them? It's a chance to see the world.
Thanks, but the world looks just fine from Thunderbird 5.
FAB 1 to International Rescue.
Lady Penelope.
Is everything OK? It is.
I just wanted to thank you again for International Rescue's donation to my charity auction.
Some of the wealthiest people in the world will be there to support my wildlife preserve, and I expect this to fetch a good price.
Glad to help.
Enjoy the party.
Did I hear "party"? Need a date? I can be there in no time.
[WHISPERS.]
Scott, let me borrow Thunderbird 1.
Er, thank you, Gordon, but I already have a date.
- John? - [LAUGHS.]
No way! You actually got him to leave Thunderbird 5?! I thought your brother could use a little fresh air.
[WHINES.]
He wanted it kept quiet.
What But I'm the obvious choice.
John hates social anything.
Besides, who's gonna do space-monitor duty? - Funny you should mention that.
- I had to ask.
[CHUCKLES.]
Walked into that one.
And who do you think's taking him up there? [GROANS.]
About there, M'Lady.
The Chateau Traverse dead ahead.
[MUSIC.]
That's pretty amazing, actually.
Speaking of amazing, how do you like that custom tuxedo I designed? It fits just fine, Brains.
But didn't you notice all the cool hidden functions? Like the secret radio in your collar.
This isn't a spy mission, Brains.
It's just a quiet little charity auction.
I may have understated the "quiet" part a a bit.
And the "little".
[CAMERAS CLICKING.]
[INDISTINCT EXCITED CHATTER.]
International Rescue [SIGHS.]
I have a situation.
REPORTER: Lady Penelope, over here! NARRATOR: Five Four Three Two One! [THRUSTERS.]
[TITLE MUSIC.]
Thunderbirds are go.
LADY PENELOPE: John, are you all right? I thought there'd be a lot less this.
People, talking, in person.
I mean, communications is my job.
I talk to people all over the world.
I'd just rather do it from space.
Exactly why I wanted to get you off that station.
Well, Lady Penelope.
You do like to elevate a party? [LAUGHS.]
Er, who's this? - A friend, Mr Bottomsley.
If you'll excuse us.
- Hm.
Bernard Bottomsley, proof that money doesn't buy class.
And that's Umberto Sandalio.
I'm aiming to pry a sizable donation from his miserly grip.
I hope an auction item catches his eye.
Place like this is a hotbed for pickpockets.
In my day, this would have been a goldmine.
No-one is going to pick anyone's pockets tonight.
Not while I'm on watch, M'Lady.
- Oh.
Excuse me a moment.
- BRAINS: Come in, John.
- Agh! - This is Brains.
For your information, your tie is a photon scrambler that obscures your face from photographs.
Your jacket arms contain stabilising foam.
Your socks can instantly turn magnetic, and did I mention the cufflinks? Will they make me invisible to crowds? Oh, why didn't I think of that? Are you sure about this? I mean, I can take us up there - in Thunderbird 3.
- But why not take John's way up? [CLEARS THROAT.]
EOS, lower the space elevator, please.
EOS: Voice print not recognised.
Voice print? It's me, Gordon Tracy.
Palm not recognised.
Bit dirty, don't you think? - Try the facial scanner.
- Oh.
Hairstyle not recognised, and not very stylish.
- We speak of this to no-one.
- To the rocket! [MUSIC.]
Thunderbird 3 is go.
Umberto, I do hope you see something worth bidding on tonight.
[WITH SPANISH ACCENT.]
Not likely, and the canapes are atrocious.
I was just going to complain to the staff.
WOMAN: What exactly do you do, dear boy? Me? [STUTTERS.]
I-I-I work in space.
Space? What a coincidence.
We just bought the penthouse in the new Estrella Orbital.
Perhaps we'll see you there sometime.
- Considering my line of work, for your sake, I hope not.
- Oh.
[PANTING.]
[MUSIC.]
[GROWLS.]
[INDISTINCT WHISPERING.]
Right you are about those two.
Whoa! Er Wonderful party, isn't it? Eh? He's cheered up.
No kitchen staff? [WHIMPERS.]
[MUFFLED SCREAMS.]
- Good grief, it's - You weren't supposed to see that.
Indeed.
Now drop that weapon, or I'll be obliged to serve you a Parker Haymaker.
GORDON: Uh EOS? Since when does it take half an hour to open an airlock? EOS: Got to get the pressure just right.
Wouldn't want you to get blown into space, now, would we? Ding.
Airlock pressurised.
Could you open the door, please? Sorry, didn't catch the access code.
[CHUCKLES.]
We've never needed an access code before.
New protocol.
Protection against space pirates.
I think we need an assist from "Mr Party".
Yeah, that, or I'm using explosives.
[COMM BEEPS.]
Thunderbird 3 to John.
Your housekeeper would like an access code.
[SIGHS.]
The code is, "EOS, let them in, or I'll swap your processors with a pocket calculator.
" - Code accepted.
- Thanks, John.
[MUSIC.]
[GRUNTS.]
[CLANKING.]
[GRUNTS.]
BLOND MAN: Zap him, Charlie! [SCREAMS.]
Get this dog off me! What do you think I'm trying to do? You keep getting in the way! [APPLAUSE.]
Welcome, everyone, and [CLATTERING.]
.
.
and they're obviously preparing our very delicious dessert.
[LAUGHTER.]
Our first auction item is a gracious donation from International Rescue.
These pilot wings were worn by world-famous astronaut Jeff Tracy himself.
[GUESTS MURMUR.]
We'll open the bidding at $10,000.
- Do we have ? - $20,000! $20,000 to Mr Bottomsley.
MAN: $50,000.
[GUESTS EXCLAIM.]
- Er, $60,000! - $70,000.
- $100,000! - $100,000.
- Going once - $1 million.
It appears we have a winner.
Thank you for your generous donation, Mr Sandalio.
And how does he expect to pay for it? - By robbing us? - That's exactly right.
[ALL GASP.]
[MUSIC.]
The Hood.
Since I was so wrongly left off the guest list, I borrowed the real Sandalio's appearance instead.
Pickpockets.
I knew it! Block the exits.
[ALL CLAMOURING.]
If I wasn't thrown off by the party, I would have seen this coming.
Scott, International Rescue, come in.
My phone It doesn't work.
You needn't bother calling for help.
A five-mile-wide jamming bubble is being broadcast around this entire cliff.
No communication can get in or out.
Your vehicles won't operate either, but by all means feel free to call each other if it makes you feel better.
It seems you have us all trapped.
What is it exactly you want, Hood? My plans require substantial resources.
You really think we've brought bags of money here for you to steal? Of course not.
I'm going to digitally pick your pockets.
Digitally? [SCOFFS.]
What makes you think I'd willingly give you any of my money, eh? Because I've placed laser cutters on the cables that hold up this chateau.
Would you like a demonstration? [BEEPS.]
[ALL EXCLAIM.]
I won't be snipping any more cables so long as you all comply.
Just get it over with.
This one doesn't show up on the system.
- Who exactly are you? - Me? Nobody.
I won a ticket at work.
That'll be double from you then, M'Lady.
John, we can't let him do this.
As long as the Hood is holding the control to the laser cutters, he calls the shots, but if I could get outside, - I could try and disable them.
- You'll need a distraction.
- Parker? - Right away, M'Lady.
[BARKS.]
Oi! If you're gonna rob us, at least have the decency to serve proper can-apes! GORDON: For the tenth time, EOS, please display status on any emergency broadcasts.
EOS: I checked.
No emergencies of note.
I'd like to see the reports myself.
I'm not sure you'd understand them, but I found a wonderful puppet show you might find entertaining.
[SIGHS.]
What about your other malfunctions? Food processors, toilets? [THUD.]
[GRUNTS.]
- Gravity? - Sorry, still offline.
If John were here, I'm sure he could get them working.
Gordon to John.
Your AI is being evil again.
[STATIC.]
EOS? It's not me this time.
- "This time"? - I mean I can't reach him either.
- How can I assist? - Open a channel to Tracy Island.
[PARKER GROANS.]
You've got me, Mr Hood.
[MUSIC.]
Just a few more minutes, and I'll be on my way.
Once I'm beyond the effects of this jamming bubble, your money will be mine.
SCOTT: We aren't able to contact them either.
It gets pretty foggy out there.
Could that be messing up the comms? It would take more than fog to block our communicators.
We should check it out, but let's use stealth.
- We don't wanna disturb the party.
Kayo, you're up.
- F-A-B.
[MUSIC.]
[WHIRRS.]
KAYO: Thunderbird Shadow is go.
Whoa! [SIGHS.]
I'll still take this over the crowds.
[TABLET COMPUTER BEEPS.]
Our business here is complete.
Thank you for your generosity.
Not with my money, you don't! Hey! [BONE CRACKS.]
Ow! Fool! You've activated the laser cutters! - This place is doomed.
- Then so are you.
Your concern is touching, but we have our own way out.
[GLASS SHATTERS.]
[MUSIC.]
[GUESTS SCREAMING.]
John, we may have a slight problem.
I can't stop the laser cutter, but I can slow it down.
This should buy you some time to get everyone to safety until the next cable breaks.
Aagh! [GASPS.]
Huh! Magnetic socks.
Good thinking, Brains.
[MUSIC.]
Thunderbird Shadow to Tracy Island.
I've arrived at the chateau.
Still no contact with John.
Mayday.
Structure compromised.
Scott, we need you now.
SCOTT: F-A-B.
Scrambling Thunderbird 1.
I'm attempting rescue.
Agh! [WHIRRING DOWN.]
Ship functions are down.
Losing control.
[AVIONICS BEEPING.]
[GASPS.]
I have to break off.
- What just happened? - Some kind of dampening field.
Your ship is useless in there.
If my ship is useless, I'll just lose the ship.
F-A-B.
Slaving Thunderbird Shadow to my control.
Kayo to John.
I'm on my way.
JOHN: Kayo! Pursue the Hood.
You need to get hold of the Hood's tablet and destroy it.
F-A-B.
Oh! You expect me to slide down that wire? What, in a dining chair? No, Bottomsley.
I expect you to help the others first, and if you're lucky, you'll get to leave before this whole place falls down on your head like a rock.
There you go, Sherbert.
[DOG WHIMPERS.]
Now, you'll be all right.
I'll be along soon.
[PARKER STRAINING.]
[MUSIC.]
What was it you said, Brains? The jacket arms contain stabilising foam.
FLIER: Aaagh! FLIER 2: Whoa! Kayo.
How appropriate you'd witness my greatest triumph.
Triumph? This is just another petty theft.
[MUSIC.]
Far from petty.
Once I'm past this jamming bubble, unlimited wealth will be mine! I'll get back on top no matter what it takes.
- All I need is money.
- Other people's money.
Agh! Let me go! Gotcha! [RUMBLING.]
LADY PENELOPE: John, we have about half the people out.
Good.
Any suggestions on how to bring down a ten-tonne rock? [SIGHS.]
Surely you have something up your sleeve? Actually, I do.
Brains said something about cufflinks.
Whoa! He put a laser up my sleeve.
Agh! That should do it until that laser cutter finishes its job.
I've just cleared the jamming bubble.
Begin money uplink.
[BEEPING RAPIDLY.]
[LAUGHS WICKEDLY.]
No! You've dealt me a setback.
Allow me to return the favour! Whoa! SCOTT: John, the jamming bubble's gone.
- Nice work, Kayo.
- No problem.
Hang tight.
I'm coming to get ya.
John! [ALL GASP.]
No! [DOG WHIMPERS.]
Oh.
[MUSIC.]
[DOG BARKS.]
SCOTT: I got you, party boy.
Thanks, Scott.
Just put me down anywhere.
Anywhere anywhere but here.
JOHN: EOS has something she'd like to say.
- Right, EOS? - EOS: Yes.
You both weren't completely useless after all.
- Thanks.
- Gee, thanks.
Much appreciation for fishing FAB 1 out of the sea.
Good thing this baby's waterproof.
And after you saved their money and their lives, the guests have all donated very generously to the wildlife preserve.
Well, the news seems to be filled with reports of the mystery rescuer who saved them.
Huh.
"As yet, the rescuer remains unidentified.
Oddly, his face was completely blurred in every picture.
" [LAUGHS.]
Thanks to Brains.
You really can't be too prepared.
Actually, this revealed at least 12 more things to put into that tuxedo.
I better get to work.
Oh, and one more thing, John.
I've been sent dozens of messages inviting the mysterious hero to parties everywhere.
Should I forward them? It's a chance to see the world.
Thanks, but the world looks just fine from Thunderbird 5.