Transformers: Rescue Bots (2011) s02e09 Episode Script

Feed the Beast

Okay, that's Orion.
I just need three more constellations, and astronomy homework is done.
Ooh, ooh, there's the Mirtonian star cluster.
Check your optics.
Everyone knows the Mirtonian's way over there.
Uh, guys? I don't think Earth has a "Mirtonian" constellation.
Maybe you call it by a different name.
Like the big dumper.
It's dipper, Boulder.
What is the proper term for that? Whoa.
No way.
Do you know what this is? Proof the Maine Ridge monster is real.
And that will satisfy your homework assignment? What's a Maine Ridge monster? It's new England's version of sasquatch.
You know, bigfoot.
Yeah, that doesn't really help.
I'll explain later.
Right now, we have to warn the island.
That thing's on the loose.
But why? The creature hasn't done anything wrong.
Boulder, it's a monster.
They're just bad.
That's all I need to know.
Ha.
Gotcha.
A routine patrol with four bots in stasis years later awoke in the strangest of places Earth was their home now and in addition Optimus Prime gave them this mission learn from the humans serve and protect live in their world earn their respect a family of heroes will be your allies to others remain robots in disguise rescue bots roll to the rescue humans in need heroes indeed rescue bots roll to the rescue rescue bots Ah! I've been hit.
No, you've been skunked.
How can a tiny animal make such a huge stink? It's incredible.
That's not how it smells.
According to the lad pioneer handbook, which I never travel without, skunk odor removal requires a tomato juice bath.
Can that wait till we're not in the woods with a monster? Yeah, we'd better get home.
My family won't believe what we saw.
Ugh.
I don't believe it.
But look at the photo.
I am looking At a hoax.
Someone's pulling your leg, Cody.
The Maine Ridge monster, it's all just Sci-Fi conspiracy stuff.
That's what we used to think about aliens too.
Wait, wait, wait.
Guys, guys, this is a real photo.
Of Mr.
Talbot, the lifeguard.
Have you seen that guy? It's like he's wearing a permanent back-sweater.
I know what I saw.
You believe me, don't you, dad? I believe you believe, son.
But I don't think this photo will convince anyone.
The monster is more than a good campfire story.
Now, everyone better get to bed.
We have a busy day at the lunch fundraiser tomorrow.
At least I can guarantee you a monster of a sandwich.
Right.
Dad, since when is a sandwich sale a rescue team mission? Since the mayor decided our presence brings more customers.
Try my new product, magic-meat.
The best spread for your bread.
Free samples.
Mm.
Mm, tasty.
Be right back, dad.
This is Huxley Prescott, reporting live.
From the Griffin rock charity sandwich sale, where Hey, Mr.
Prescott.
Can't you see I am making scintillating news here? Yeah.
That's why I knew you'd want to see this.
See what? A blurry picture of Mr.
Talbot? No.
It's the Maine Ridge monster.
I saw him last night.
Yeah, sure you did.
Look, kid, I've got real stories to cover.
Like doc Greene's magnetic insta-grill.
It revolutionizes the backyard barbecue.
Frankie, fire her up.
You got it, dad.
One perfectly cooked burger coming up.
Watch as the hamburger flies along the electromagnetic rails, cooking perfectly inside and out.
Mm-mm.
Good science is delicious.
Ready to launch more lunch, dad.
Why settle for an ordinary, boring burger, when you can have a magic-meat burger instead.
Wait.
Mr.
mayor, that's too big of a serving.
Nonsense.
You can never have too much magic-meat.
Ah! Run! Dani, evacuate that blimp.
Ground team, prepare for impact.
Citizens, for your own safety, please cease sandwich shopping.
Nice work, partner.
How about these burnses, folks? Aren't they great? Always there to save the day.
When one of doc's sandwiches goes Hinden-burger.
As a token of my thanks Uh, thanks? here's a case of my magic-meat.
It's real hero food.
And after the fundraiser, it'll be available at a grocery store near you.
Go on, son, try some for the camera.
I'd better share this with my family.
Mr.
Huxley? What about my monster photo? Oh, hi, Mr.
Talbot.
Tonight, we're getting monster proof everyone will believe.
Excellent.
An evidence-gathering expedition.
Hopefully more.
I have a score to settle with that beast.
He's the reason I got skunked.
Maybe we should try communicating with the creature.
Those teeth and claws did not look friendly, Boulder.
Um, Graham? Can I ask you a question? Sure.
Yeah, I could use a break.
If something looks scary, does that mean it is scary? Well, the best way to find out is to learn more about it.
A lot of times, people are just afraid.
Of what they don't understand.
For instance, I'm a little scared.
Of my quantum mechanics homework right now.
I think I can help you with that.
Soon as I get back from a little research trip.
Thanks, Graham.
Always here for you, buddy.
Come on, monster, show yourself.
Unless you don't want to, Ridgey.
"Ridgey?" I thought if I gave him a name, he'd seem less, well, monstrous.
How many creature features have you seen? Naming a monster just gives you something to yell.
When it grabs you.
Maybe Ridgey is different.
Cody, can you tell us more about him? Well, the Maine Ridge monster was first seen.
On the mainland in the 1800s.
According to reports, it's 8' tall.
Or, uh, 18.
And a white patch on its chest.
Or, uh, no patch.
Tsk-tsk.
Witness accounts are so unreliable.
Is that why chief is reluctant to believe.
In the creature's existence? Well, that and there's never been any actual, physical proof that Ridgey is real.
Until now.
Let's go meet Ridgey.
Noble.
I knew he was real.
I don't understand Why would Ridgey attack an old building? Because monsters are bad.
He's going inside the cannery.
Breaking, entering, destruction of property.
And utter disdain of safety codes.
I'm afraid I side with blades, Boulder.
Ridgey is bad.
Or maybe he's looking for something.
Stop.
Don't hurt him.
I'm going after that thing.
Heatwave, wait.
The whole building's about to collapse.
Rescue bots, power up and energize.
Power up and energize.
Nice work, guys.
No way dad can say that wasn't real.
When he sees these photos, he'll Aww.
My proof.
Perhaps we have other evidence.
Wet monster hair.
This must have come off Ridgey.
Ugh.
It smells worse than heatwave.
Well, it does.
It still seems strange.
Why would Ridgey come here? Who knows? Monsters aren't exactly predictable.
That's quite a story, Cody.
But I can't say I approve of your late-night escapade.
Graham, we'll need to examine the old cannery.
To make sure the structure's stable.
Mm.
Mm-hm.
You guys! I'm holding actual monster fur here.
I don't think so, Cody.
This hair isn't even organic.
It's fake.
Kinda like someone's story.
Well, doesn't the cannery damage.
Prove we saw the Maine Ridge monster? You saw something, son.
But it could be anything from a bear.
To a human in a costume.
You believe we saw Ridgey, right? Well, whatever that thing was, it knew how to fight.
It is true that most legendary creatures prove to be imaginary.
The loch ness monster, the Yeti, Prince Charming.
There is no hard evidence they exist.
Well, of course they do.
I've seen all of them in movies.
You've seen special effects, blades.
Those "creatures" are CGI.
Just made with computers.
But We just don't have enough data.
To make an informed analysis yet.
Right, Graham? Huh? Mm, yeah.
Mm.
Oh, bro, how can you eat that stuff? I was up late doing homework, and there was nothing else to eat.
The taste grows on you.
Even the aftertaste grows on you.
Yeah, but what's growing on it? Chief.
I've been robbed.
Last night, someone broke into my personal storehouse.
And stole every last can of my magic-meat.
Heh.
Hope you've got an alibi, Graham.
No way anyone else would eat that stuff.
Oh, hey, uh, excuse me.
Well, this place is cleaned out.
There aren't even any dust bunnies.
I want that thief caught and put in stocks, chief.
We don't really use stocks anymore, Mr.
mayor.
Dad, look! My magic-meat.
Aw, this can is empty.
There's a whole trail of 'em.
Looks like our thief had to eat and run.
Back to your bots, team.
We have a lead.
The stocks, chief.
The stocks! This is where the trail of cans ends? At home? I suppose it's possible the thief.
Just ran out of magic-meat here.
But I don't like coincidences.
Yeah.
For all we know, the robber could be inside right now.
Let's see if the security cameras.
Caught anything last night.
What was that? Buddy? Son? Graham? Bro? Cody, get back! If that was CGI, it was very well done.
How could this happen? We have to go after him.
If anyone else finds him first Team, start a search now.
Dani, blades, get an aerial view.
Don't worry, chief.
We'll track it down.
It? Heatwave, that's Graham you're talking about.
Graham or not, we have to stop that thing before it He hurts someone.
Or worse.
Where are we going, dad? Obviously, to file for Graham's animal license.
No.
We're getting some answers.
This is Huxley Prescott, back with more of monster-watch 24/7.
Frightened Griffin rock citizens are reporting sightings.
Of the Maine Ridge monster from every side of the island.
Oh, sure, now Huxley believes in monsters.
Fortunately, our bravest are preparing a trap.
For the craven creature.
We have to find Graham before they do.
Frightened people do dangerous things.
Doc, have you ever seen this logo before? Graham was eating from this can before he changed.
Fofoo.
But where on Earth did he get it? Uh, dad? What's Fofoo? Forever food.
So called, because it had no expiration date.
It was a failed product, shelved back when I was a junior scientist.
It seems Fofoo research was discontinued.
When scientists found that in the absence of U.
V.
rays Sunlight the meat caused unusual behavior.
Unusual? What does that mean? It's science-speak for "we have no idea what just happened, but it's pretty horrible.
" Like, "Fofoo turned my brother into a monster" kinda horrible? That sounds about right.
Apparently a stockpile of unused Fofoo was sealed in bunker 16.
Sixteen? That backs right up against the mayor's mansion.
He must have found the old Fofoo.
And re-sold it as magic-meat.
Gross.
But very enterprising of him.
This product selis itself.
Eating Fofoo makes a person crave more.
That's why Ridgey was at the cannery.
Once he ate the mayor's stash, he was looking for more cans of Fofoo.
Now the only place to find some Don't say it.
is on the best left forgotten shelves.
Just once, couldn't something in the B.
L.
F.
stay forgotten? I'm afraid Griffin rock is quite thorough.
When cataloging its scientific failures.
All units, rendezvous at the hall of inspiration.
On our way.
We're en route.
Be there as soon as I can.
But I have to make a stop first.
There's still one thing I don't get.
We saw the monster the night before.
The mayor gave Graham that magic-meat.
Dad.
I've spotted Graham.
You were right.
He's heading toward the hall from the south.
Negatory.
We're tracking Graham now.
He's coming from the north.
Two monsters.
The mayor was eating a ton of his own magic-meat.
At the sandwich sale.
And the fake fur I found The mayor's toupee.
Mayor Luskey is the other monster.
Rescue bots, roll to the rescue.
Chief, you have to restrain those monsters.
They are nearing some highly explosive material.
We so have to find a better place.
To keep that Nitroglycerin.
Out of my way, Boulder.
Doc said to take the monsters down.
No.
They're not monsters.
One's the mayor and one's Graham.
It's time we tried things my way.
I'm going to talk to my partner.
Graham.
Graham! Hey, buddy, you asked me to help you with your homework, remember? You didn't understand it.
And now, you don't understand what's happened to you.
You're scared.
And I can help you with that too.
That's good.
But first you have to step away from that crate.
It's full of explosives.
Stay back! You'll frighten them.
Come along quietly, your honor.
Or loudly.
But please, no snapping.
You really are always there for me, buddy.
I guess I'm glad I don't remember.
Much of being a monster.
But what if I change back again? Oh, you will.
As long as there's Fofoo in your system when the moon rises.
Don't worry.
Dad's got a cure.
But if you ask me, it's worse than being a were-creature.
We need to counteract the synthetic food.
With fresh greens.
Raw broccoli, spinach, and kale.
One tiny request.
Salt? No.
A hat.
Uh, sorry I nearly trounced you, Graham.
No offense.
It's okay.
I looked like a monster.
Yeah, and I smell like a skunk.
Doesn't mean I am one.
I wonder if any other late-movie creep-a-zoids exist.
Because if a zombie-mutant-potato attacks, I am so out of here.
All right, that's it.
Lights out at 8 P.
M.
and no TV.
W-what about soaps? Musical comedy? Infomercials? I know you're out there somewhere, Ridgey.
And someday, I'm gonna find you.

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