The Middleman s01e11 Episode Script

and Galleys, I realized what the song needs now is a solo.
So I'm gonna go home, strap on the Telecaster and find out a way to make it sing.
It's gonna be good.
- Tyler, I'm so sorry.
- About what? - Um, you're not upset? - About my show? Oh, no, is this gonna be like thatSaved By The Bell where no one would tell Jessie how bad her music really was, so she had a caffeine pill freakout? 'Cause I was the only person in the audience.
Why would I be upset about that? I killed.
Seriously, Dubbie, since you and I met, I've been writing like a song-nado.
A tornado made of songs? You know it.
Who cares how many people came to the show? The songs are great, if I do say so myself, the ideas are flowing, and you're the best audience I could possibly want.
And now, if you don't mind, I'd like to decompress from my artistic triumph by enjoying a fine ding experience with my lady.
Only if I can treat.
Well, seeing as how I got all of Oh! - Forty-six cents in tips.
- That barista shafted you.
Be my guest.
If the universe isn't gonna reward you for being a great guy and a talented musician because it's too busy making d-baggy slimeballs rich and famous, the least I can do is pick up some of the slack.
As much as I appreciate the show of solidarity, Dubster, I'm over it.
Over it? Your old band is live at Budokan on a song you wrote.
I'm sorry, Tyler, but you deserve better.
Um, two hotdogs.
One grilled onions and mustard, one chili-cheese with bacon.
I know you're Zen guy about the whole thing, and I admire that, but if there ever were people who should reap the whirlwind, their names are Casanova Charlie.
Is Casanova Charlie.
How come there's no one in the band named Charlie? That bass player steals his girl, for which I'm infinitely grateful, by the way, but still, he rides the wave to the pop charts of success on his song.
What's the problem? Those guys are masher chum-suckers.
No, they're worse.
If they tried to suck chum, they'd fail.
All right? Honestly, I think it's the flyer I designed for a show.
Should have featured in the foreground so that people could bask in the sheer power that is his awesomeness and if they failed to come to the show, they would miss the newest magic by the guy who really wrote Dreams of Monica.
Want a piece? Yeah.
He wrote it.
- Tyler, are you OK? - I'm fine.
- Are you OK? - You just saved my life.
- Oh, I don't think I - I do.
You selflessly stepped in to mediate a tense situation.
When that proved untenable, you took swift action to prevent me from a lethal dose of wood and pine tar.
I'm sure you have gainful employment, but if you should find yourself wanting, please call me.
Are you offering him a job? The empathy to step in and the gumption to act are rare qualities.
I'm always looking for someone with rare qualities.
I don't know if that's me.
- I do.
- I do.
I'll be expecting your call.
You are such a rockstar.
the.
middleman.
s01e11 - Morning, Lacey.
Hey, Noser.
- Hey, Tyler.
??? - Yo, Wendy's boyfriend.
- Tyler, give me back my shirt.
Two minutes.
This is an emergency.
Pan-galactic incursion requiring immediate sanction! OK.
I got it.
I'll meet you outside.
- Noser, give me back my shirt.
- Noser, long bomb.
Noser throws where the coffee is.
Did your boss just call you on your watch about a pan-galactic gargle blaster? No.
Uh, Lacey, can I borrow your Capri pants? Go for it.
So how's our hero doing today? Seriously, Lacey, all I did was stop a street fight.
The way Wendy told it, you were like Bruce Willis.
I hope you mean before he recordedThe Return of Bruno.
Saving the life of a man of mystery.
Did you called the guy for your reward yet? Reward? If you saved his life using kung fu, he owes you what the Chinese sifus, the Japanese sensei and the Jedi knights refer to as a "life debt.
" Every kung fu movie ever made can't be wrong.
In terms the common man can understand: you own his ass.
Mm.
I don't want to own his ass.
He offered me a job, I told him I was gonna work on my music.
His card doesn't even have a company on it.
It's just his name.
You saved the life of Manservant Neville? Manservant Neville? Sounds like somebody's butler.
Not Man-servant, Man-ser-vant.
As in, Manservant Neville.
CEO of Fatboy Industries.
As in the man who brought the world the uMaster.
- The uMaster! - Oh, that Manservant Neville.
I remember when I got my first uMaster.
Did it not change your life? It seems to have an invisible touch.
I had a uMaestro for a while.
The knockoffs are just not the same.
But Manservant Neville, Fatboy Industries, he didn't just create a handheld device that changed how people relate to the world.
They are the greenest, most progressive corporation ever.
They fund the one uMaster per child initiative and a massive solar farm in the Gobi and a blue whale haven in the Son of a monkey's uncle, Wendy Watson, which part of "emergency" didn't you get? Wendy, why is your boss standing outside our door wearing a hazmat suit? Forget it, Lace, it's Chinatown.
I'm not gonna lie to you, Dubbie.
The party's beginning and we have a manure hoagie.
What's with the salty language? Familiar with NASA's Voyager The two probes that conducted grand tours of the solar system and passed into deep space, never to be seen again? Each carrying evidence of humanity to anything ?? that might want to pick them up.
- Did someone? - Unknown.
But less than a half hour ago, the HEYDAR picked up an object streaking across the solar system.
Voyager 2 is rocketing back home, and it's coming in hotter than the devil's wedding tackle Whoa! That was filthy.
It's that bad.
Is that why we're going all Andromeda Strain on it? I'm not taking any chances.
When one of NASA's birds unexpectedly comes back to the nest, it can mean one of two things: One, the probe is carrying an alien virus, hence the suits.
Two, the probe is carrying actual aliens, hence the suits.
Actually, three things.
Possible the probe developed artificial intelligence and is returning to judge its makers, in which the suits are the least worry.
But bottom line, Dubbie, that grand tour was supposed to be a one-way ticket, and I'm godfather to an aardvark before I let a debacle like the Viking Mission happen.
The Viking Mars mission?There was no one I'll explain.
Voyager 2, or what's left of it.
The outer casing and antennae must have burned off in re-entry.
Luckily, it looks like the black box is still intact.
Wow.
When I was three years old, my dad sat me on his lap in front of the television to watch the pictures Voyager 2 sent back from Neptune.
It seemed like magic back then.
- Now, it just looks - Small? Like a wrecked hibachi.
This is a secure area.
You have to clear out.
We're authorized.
I'm Commander Benton, this is Specialist Herriot.
- NASA.
- We're NASA.
- Regional listening post number 46A.
- What a shocker.
Only an apple-dumpling gang of untrained, scrub-podunk-know-nothings would show up at the potentially toxic aftermath of a pan-galactic incursion with only bubblegum in their mouths and the air between their ears.
Where are environment suits? I We This is a routine retrieval.
Routine retrieval? How many Terran Probe Return Retrievals have you been on? None.
I mean we just found out about this a few minutes ago.
- What if that wreck is carrying alien virus? - Or an actual alien? Or developed artificial intelligence to judge its makers? Or if it has already judged its makers and found them wanting? Bottom line, Mr Lethbridge-Stuart, if that is your name, are you gonna stand in front of Congress when we're sprouting tentacles from our elbows and tell them that it was a routine retrieval? OK.
But if this goes south, it's your ass in front of the oversight committee.
Cover your kiester? Send a letter to my boss.
You can address it to Current Occupant, 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
OK, guys, let's go! We should be NASA on every mission.
It's thinking like that that led to drug-resistant malaria.
Let's get this picnic basket.
Ooh! I like the bridge.
- Wait, the best part is coming up.
- Just listen.
Wow, Tyler.
It's awesome! The new solo you added is amazing.
Tyler Ford, I'm gonna have to ask you to co-produce my concept album.
Oh, I'm gonna have to say yes.
Manservant Neville.
Good morning, Miss Thornfield.
Mr.
Noser, and Tyler Ford.
- Why haven't you called me? - A, I didn't think you were serious.
B, I didn't think you were really Manservant Neville.
And C, did you track me to the hallway of my girlfriend's loft and find out all of our names? When someone saves my life, someone who doesn't know who I am, I pay attention.
I would have done the same for anyone.
But you didn't.
You did it for me.
I believe fate has brought our paths together for a reason.
I really appreciate the offer, but I'm not exactly corporate material.
No, you're not, which is why I've gone through such great pains to find you.
They said no one would buy a solar-powered hand-held device made entirely out of recycled materials, and now one in 25 humans owns a uMaster.
Intuition is why I am where I am.
And I have intuition about you.
You know Fatboy Tower downtown? Tell the proctor I sent you.
10:00.
- I don't think I can - Fate, Mr.
Ford.
Fate.
That was crazy, right? Because I'm thinking crazy.
Most crazy.
But kind of cool.
- Cool, really? - Put this on.
That's the tie Wendy and I hang on the stairs when we're Like I don't know.
Look, I don't care what you say, you're going to the interview, and I'm driving you.
Lacey, I'm a musician.
And this is like Bono offering you a job.
Bono, Buddha and the Wizard of Oz.
Like the man said, it's fate.
Middleman HQ.
2hours, 41 minutes before the inevitable detonation Shouldn't we be doing this in a lab or something? Oh, did they teach you about labs in art school? Yes.
They also taught me about the ancient art of color matching.
I do enjoy the banter, but let's remember the project at hand.
This box was designed to serve as a zygon-rated quarantine facility.
- We're perfectly safe.
- What if something happens to the box? Well, then I'd say it's been nice knowing ya, but it hasn't.
Would you like to do the honors, Wendy? Your chance to handle a piece of history, albeit through triple-strength prophylactics.
No.
And please don't call them that.
All right.
That is not your tax dollars at work.
- Is that writing? - Good eye.
Hard to discern, but it looks like, - "Made in Clothar.
" - Clothar? The war-torn galaxy that sent us Varsity FanClub, five intergalactic dictators masquerading as a boy band, and threatened to destroy Earth and everyone on it? You remember that? I thought you were on the happy leaf that whole time.
Is it just me, or is that Clotharian for? Three, two - Contamination alert.
Contamination alert.
Contamination alert.
Are you telling me there's an alien virus loose in here? ???it exposes the mucus membranes.
Contamination alert.
I hope your Code 47's up to date.
- Code 47? - Talking.
Leave the watch.
It goes through the showers with you.
- Showers? - Yeah.
D-con protocol, honey.
That's what you get for being made of meat.
Breathe deeply.
Aerosolized antibiotics.
Toke it, sweetpea.
You know how to do that, right? - Ida, a little privacy, please? - Oh, fine.
Thank God.
What? You might find the next phase a bit awkward.
To lower the risk of infection following exposure, there is a great deal of scrubbing involved.
Normally, Interrodroid takes up the duty, but since 5000 has been destroyed, and the building is under quarantine We're won't get any replacements anytime soon.
Great.
I guess I can cross "give my boss a Silkwood shower" off the life list.
Oh, good lord! There's no such thing as modesty when life and death are at stake.
Now, quit your grinning and drop your linen.
- I am not grinning.
- Here comes the steam.
Look at all these people.
It's Gucci Gulch over here.
Do you really need Armani for rolling calls and light filing? It's Manservant Neville, what do you expect? Maybe you should apply for this job.
Can't.
I'm wanted in three states.
We have been expecting you, Mr.
Ford.
- Does everyone around here know my name? - Yes.
You may wait to be called.
Thank you.
What am I doing here? You're going on an adventure, Tyler Ford.
What's the worst that could happen? You turn down the world's greatest multi-media mogul and you get a story to tell your friends for the rest of your life.
It's not exactly rock and roll.
Yeah.
But aren't you dying to find out what it is? Mr.
Tyler Ford.
Good luck, Tyler.
So, what kind of job is this? The kind you'll find out about if deemed worthy.
You wouldn't mind taking a few tests first, would you? All rid of that not-so-fresh feeling? Status, Ida? Have you made any progress isolating the contaminant? Cultures are cooking.
You may have to sit in d-con for a few minutes.
See if there's any way to contact the Clotharians.
If this is their mess, they might have the Goo Gone to get rid of it.
They put a killer alien virus in our space probe.
They're just gonna give us the antidote? - Not with that attitude.
- I'm on it.
Dubbie, it's time I told you about Code 47.
Yeah, what is that? And how many codes do we have, anyway? - At least 86.
- You don't know? In the event that a Middleman is called upon to make the ultimate sacrifice, a microwave burst from the Middlewatch delivers a pre-recorded message.
Whoa, Scooter.
We're not gonna die from a face-full of some alien virus.
I certainly hope not.
But a Middleman should be prepared for any eventuality.
I record a Code 47 for you during every mission.
I'm as serious as a German film festival.
Dubbie, if you're seeing this, I have been assassinated by the Clan of the Pointed Stick.
I trust you were more fortunate.
Dubbie, if you're seeing this, I've been turned into a fish zombie and you had to shoot me in the head.
Dubbie, if you're seeing this, I have perished in the Underworld.
Hopefully, we've stopped thousand years of fire.
If not, you might want to look into getting an asbestos umbrella.
Or a really good insurance policy.
Dubbie, if you're seeing this, we were unable to stop Varsity FanClub, the Clotharian rebel fleet opened up a warp hole and their armada has reduced the planet Earth to a smoking cinder.
I'm not sure how you managed to survive, but good for you.
OK, that's enough Last Thought Theater.
- Code 47 is - Planning for failure.
No, thank you.
Wanting to say goodbye to friends and family is hardly planning for failure.
If you knew you weren't going to see Lacey again, wouldn't you tell her what she means to you? If she doesn't already know, I'm a pretty lousy friend.
There's nothing that you haven't told her? Or Mr.
Noser? - Or Tyler? - Nope.
Open book.
That's me.
I hope you know you were a stellar Middleman in training, Dubbie.
And I'm sure your superb immune system will serve you well as you one day train a Middleboy or Middlegirl of your own.
I am right here.
You're not dead.
That doesn't change what I would say to you if I were.
How much longer do we have to stay in this bath-house? Decontamination of the corridors should be done by now.
Ida, are we cleared to exit isolation? Ida? It's the Middleman.
Do you read? Ida? It's me, the toker.
Hophead McStoney.
Pick up! She's right there.
Why isn't she answering? We've been Jack Traven-ed.
That's not Ida.
That's a recording of Ida playing on a loop.
- How could a virus do that? - Maybe Ida's been compromised.
Perhaps this is all part of some elaborate Clotharian ruse.
Whatever's going on, we got to get to Ops.
- And that can only mean one thing.
- Really? We're going to have to activate one of our emergency incursion protocols.
I thought we only had one emergency incursion protocol.
Try over 300.
And in this case, it's going to have to be the Nakatomi Protocol.
Nakatomi? Like the movie? No.
Like the real-life events that inspired the movie.
"Come out to the coast, we'll get together, have a few laughs.
" No dawdling, Dubbie.
Can I say something? It's what the Founding Fathers fought for.
What's up with the vents? We're coming from an isolation chamber inside a secret headquarters built by an organization so covert we don't even know who they are.
Yet we have vents large enough to crawl into, with accessible registers.
Was this building designed by TV writers or what? No, it wasn't.
See, most of the time, the Middle-vents are a series of tubes, each one no thicker than a capellini.
But the Nakatomi Protocol enlarges the vent system to allow us to move about freely.
Simultaneously, it confounds any hostiles by shutting down our internal surveillance, - allowing the hunted to become - The hunters.
Cool.
Hold the wire.
This is dad-gum peculiar.
I don't get it.
Interrodroid was destroyed.
That was Interrodroid 5000.
This is obviously Interrodroid 6000.
How, "obviously"? And how was a new Interrodroid delivered? We were supposed to be in lockdown.
Interrodroid 6000 is using HEYDAR to cause a cascade overload in all of Ida's vital systems.
He's turning her into a walking detonator.
Oh, come on, how many times are people gonna break into headquarters - and threaten to blow up the place? - A, about three times a year.
And B, a cascade overload will put all of our systems into a simultaneous detonation sequence and crater the entire city.
We have about 60 minutes before our town becomes our cinder.
Great.
Hans Gruber-ed with our own robot.
- Hey.
Can she see us? - Yes, I can.
Kill them! - Nice catch.
- Next time, you be the bait.
It would appear that Ida has been contaminated and turned against us.
Great.
It's like Die Hard in a building.
Which explains why we aren't showing any symptoms.
Whatever was in that capsule was meant for Ida, not us.
She duped us into lockdown to get us out of the way.
All that scrubbing, for nothing.
At least we have one of our guns back.
The other firearms are locked up tighter than Marie Antoinette's corsets.
- Nakatomi Protocol? - Nakatomi Protocol.
It's an even split.
Ida has my Middlegun and Now, I have a machine gun.
Ho-ho-ho.
Firepower isn't going to win the day, Dubbie.
But that severed head just might.
Come on, we need to keep moving.
- Mr.
Ford.
- Yes sir.
- You want to work for Fatboy Industries.
- I was approached, actually.
You attended a small liberal arts college of no particular reputation or merit.
McCrimmon College is considered an excellent And took five-and-a-half years to finish.
I finished in three-and-a-half years, but I took two years off in the middle to backpack through Africa and South Asia.
And that made you so worldly you haven't been able to hold a job other than guitarist for more than three months? Some of those jobs sure felt like they lasted more than that.
No? As for your time as a guitarist, that was capped by your composition of the number one hit song, Dreams of Monica.
A song you freely gave to your former bandmates when you left the group because you were dumped by the song's namesake.
What's that got to do with? Is this the kind of decision-making we can expect when you're representing our interests? I gave up the song because music is a living thing.
Dreams of Monica was written about that girl, for those people.
I could have taken it and recorded it with another group, but it would have been as dead as a goldfish in a gerbil cage.
It sure wouldn't have been a hit.
There was one place that song could live.
And since I couldn't live there, I let it go.
Do you truly believe that your cavalier attitude toward intellectual property would serve this company or Manservant Neville's? What did you just say? I said, "Do you truly believe that your cavalier attitude toward intellectual property would serve this company or Manservant Neville's?" Why can't you pronounce your own boss's name? And why is your watch ticking so damn loud? It's a Cartier Pasha case, but the movement ticks like a cheap knockoff.
Your suit is machine-sewn, not handmade, even though it's cut in an ostentatious Italian style.
Your toupee is far more obvious than a highly-paid corporate executive would allow himself to wear.
Your cufflinks are plastic.
Your tie is a clip-on.
And your reading glasses don't have magnification lenses in them.
And you can't pronounce Manservant Neville.
Which means that this is either a very poorly run company, in which case I have no business working for you, or this is still a test, in which case you people are sick, demented geniuses.
That will be all, Mr.
Ford.
It's been too long.
Ida's gonna to figure out something happened with Interrodroid.
We have ten levels to hide in, she won't be expecting instant results.
Is this even gonna work? Supreme Commander of the Clotharian Rebel Fleet contacted us through the Interrodroid before.
We should be able to use the technology to call him back.
I know.
But that was, like, two Interrodroids ago.
Remember how when we got New Ida she had all of Old Ida's memories? - Yeah.
- Same with Interrodroids.
Dubbie, this really is a one-man job.
Perhaps now would be a good time for you to reconsider your stance on Code 47, in case the Clotharians aren't willing to help.
- Nope.
- I have to say, I'm a bit surprised by your reluctance.
Considering the mysterious disappearance of your father, you'd want your mother Look, I'm not gonna record the message, OK? How did you obtain this frequency? - High Aldwin - I am not High Aldwin.
You sound like Graham Chapman and dress like a vestal virgin.
- If you're not High Aldwin - Silence! I have been promoted since we last spoke.
I must now only be addressed as Maximum Aldwin.
Oh! Well, that's just great.
I know you.
The hairless ape who read the scrolls of Xanthor.
Maximum Aldwin, your people returned one of our probes.
Within that probe was a capsule which contained a virus.
In accordance with provisions of the Treaty of Periperpegilliam, you are required to inform us I told them that signing the treaty of Periperpegilliam was a mistake.
Now, everyone suddenly wants to know why you're killing them and how they're going to die.
Wait a minute.
We saved your ass from Varsity Fanclub and this is how you say thanks? - A killer virus? - Three of your Earth weeks ago, Voyager 2 was sucked through a warp hole and promptly began taking pictures of a top-secret Clotharian military base.
As if flooding the cosmos with your televised reality shows, sitcoms and competitive cooking programs wasn't bad enough, you primates escalated to galactic voyeurism.
And that will not stand.
The capsule we sent back to you contained a payload of aerosolized nanobots.
- Nano-whats? - Nanobots.
Microscopic machines, designed to infiltrate our technology and rip it apart from the inside out.
And they're what's making Ida go boom all gone? That's dumb.
Won't the nano-butts be blown up with the rest of the city? To the contrary.
The nanobots will use the force of the explosion to spread into the atmosphere and from there, the world.
Within a week, the height of human technology will be a few pointy rocks, which should teach you gibbons not to treat our galaxy like your own private peep show.
And now, if I may invoke the text of one of your sacred documents, "Yippi-kay-yay, " If we can push Ida's reset button, Ida will shut down, which will stop the cascade, and reactivate her root anti-virus systems, - which will get rid of the nanobots.
- Where's the reset button? - In her brain.
- Her brain? How are you gonna push that? You gonna get your Boston Strangler on again? Ida's in livewire mode.
Any attack that compromises her structural integrity will cause a premature detonation.
What we need is the HEYDAR.
You stay up nights coming up with these plans, don't you? We can use the HEYDAR's on-board shrink ray to shrink me down to sub-atomic size.
- HEYDAR has a shrink ray? - Of course.
We'd employ its particle accelerator - HEYDAR has a particle accelerator? - Of course.
And we can use it to shoot me right into her.
Then I'll make my way to her brain via the cortex entry hatch and trigger the reset, which will engage her antivirus subroutine.
- Like the space android Norton utilities? - Exactly.
After the nanobots have been destroyed, I'll signal you with the Middlewatch.
Then you can use HEYDAR to restore me to normal size.
That's a great plan, except Ida's wired into HEYDAR and she's on a hair trigger.
- Wait, what about? - Baby HEYDAR.
About time.
You took care of them? I am so over being the bait.
Sorry, but I'm too tall to fit inside Interrodroid's hollowed-out exoskeleton.
Now I know what a TV dinner feels like.
Commence the distraction, Dubbie.
Watch it, you oaf! What's your damage? You best unscrew yourself or I am gonna reprogram you with a can opener.
Don't think I can't do it! Everybody shut the heck up! So, one of you is Interrodroid 7000.
That means the other one is the burnout in a suit.
Now, you're wondering, "How's Ida gonna know which one's the fake?" ?? I don't care.
- Get me out of here! - Out the door! Go! - Say goodnight, peanut.
- Sorry, Ida.
I can't let you do that.
Dubbie.
Dubbie, can you hear me? Dubbie? Dubbie, are you all right? I think so.
Where am I? OK.
I'm in the sinus passage, heading towards the brain.
Also, checking "picking an android's nose from the inside" off the life list.
- Where are you? - On the move.
Ida was stunned by the particle transfer long enough for me to give her the slip.
OK.
Just keep that Baby HEYDAR safe.
It's my ticket out of here.
Listen to me, Dubbie, and listen to me good.
I never intended for you to be the one shrunken inside of Ida.
Now, something you need to know.
Now there's something I need to know? After you've hit the reset button in Ida's brain stopping her from blowing up the city, it is crucial, I repeat, crucial you get out of her body through whatever orifice before you signal for me to bring you back to size.
If Baby HEYDAR returns you to full size while surrounded by Ida's titanium substructure - I'll be shredded.
- Like a White House phone log.
This place is a mess.
Wait, I hear something.
Oh, no.
The nanobots! They're taking apart Ida.
It's like Oompa-Loompas with power tools.
Be careful.
Not only are nanobots super-strong and nigh-indestructible, they act as a swarm.
The last thing you want is to be at the bottom of that pileup.
- They'll take you apart, literally.
- Avoid the nanobots.
Got it.
- I'll call you when I reach the brain.
- Good luck.
Nice speech about the song.
Very moving.
So did I call it about your board? We've all been trying to find a way to tell Sullivan about his crap toupee, but we were afraid it would be awkward.
Please.
A bunch of stuffed shirts could never have made the uMaster.
So I passed the test? Have a good day, Manservant Neville.
You're not turning me down, are you? Which part of "I'm a musician" did you miss? The part where people are lined up to hear you play.
I've done my homework, researched your life, listened to your music.
?? you are good.
Really good.
- But what if it's not enough? - I am good enough.
But the world isn't.
It seldom recognizes genius, and when it does, it squashes it with the abject tedium of compromise.
Dreams of Monica excepted, you write songs about changing the world.
You want to be on a stage.
I'm offering you that stage.
I don't even know what this job is.
I need a right hand man, and I don't need another stooge from the Ivy League assembly line.
I need someone who has music in their soul.
It's time for you to stop singing about changing the world, it's time for you to start doing it.
I'm at the hatch to the brain, but the nanobots are standing guard.
- Now way I can get around them.
- How many? Does it matter? More than there are of me.
- You have to find a way inside.
- There's only the one hatch, and these guys are about to survive the equivalent of a nuclear strike.
- No way I can take them.
- Then don't.
The nanobots are strong, but you're smarter.
It's just like what Sensei Ping says about weasels.
They can easily hide in a tube sock? That their love of battle is surpassed by their love of shiny things.
Ida.
I know you're in there somewhere.
You can fight this.
You can't win.
Hurt me, and I blow up now, take out the building and spread the nanobots across the city.
Do nothing, I blow up later, take out the city and spread the nanobots across the world.
Maybe.
But remember, you can't injure me, or, through inaction, allow me to come to harm.
Kiss my Asimov! Welcome to the party, Ida.
Yoo-hoo! Over here! How do you like them weasels? - Tea? - Uh, no.
Thanks.
So, shrunken to lepton size.
White void.
Little people with power tools.
Better than Mary Jane, huh? - You are Ida.
- I'm Ida's brain.
The nanobots have taken over her body.
And if you don't stop them in the next five minutes, humanity's gonna be rubbing two sticks together to power their coconut phones.
I know.
I came to hit your reset button.
Activate my anti-virus system, destroy the nanobots, save the world? Oh, honey, that was a good plan.
Thanks.
Wait.
"Was" a good plan? The nanobots beat you to it.
They trashed my reset button first thing.
What am I supposed to do? You want to stop the nanobot Apocalypse Now, you've got to send me back to O2STK.
They can fix me, destroy the nanobots.
Or they'll send you a new Ida.
- All the same to me.
- O2STK? "Organization too secret to know?" No one knows how to contact them.
Even you said you didn't know who we work for.
Doesn't mean I don't know how to return a faulty piece of equipment.
I may not know who runs the joint, but keeping the Middleman in weapons and gadgets and things is my primary function.
How am I gonna send you back when Ops is in lockdown? - Huh.
- Wait.
We must have some kind of channel to O2STK in the building.
That's where all the new Interrodroids come from.
Keno.
Just get the Middleman to subdue my body and take me back to Ops.
I'll show you how to send me back to my maker.
Hey, boss, it's Wendy.
I got a new plan.
Any chance you can subdue Ida and get her back to Ops???? - You sucker-punched me! - Goes to show how well you know me.
It doesn't matter what you do.
This cranky old broad goes kablooey in three minutes.
Today, John Wayne doesn't get to ride off into the sunset with Grace Kelly! That's Gary Cooper, Ida.
Dubbie, I've brought Ida to Ops.
Now what? Bankers lamps.
Third lamp, top row: Turn off.
And the second lamp on the bottom row: - Turn off, then on, then off again.
- Got that? Off.
On.
Off.
Got it.
Pipefitters local! I've never seen that before! It's a pneumatic tube.
Goes all the way to O2STK.
I always wondered how we got our weapons and gadgets and things.
No Middleman's ever seen this far behind the curtain.
But you two hoobanauts crapped the comforter so bad, I thought, "What the hey.
" Uh, boss, Ida's brain says anything put in the tube will go straight to O2STK.
I'm two steps ahead of you.
Dubbie, that explosion is gonna trigger in two-and-a-half minutes.
You need to get out of there.
- The nanobots.
- They're coming in.
- Is there another way out? - No.
Can I just go back with you to O2STK? Not if you want to come back.
You need to get out of there now! I can't.
Dubbie, if you can't get out of there, I'm not sending Ida to O2STK.
You have to.
You know you do.
This is save the world time, you taught me that.
- No, Dubbie.
- Hey, boss? If you're hearing this, the nanobots are outside the hatch, and I didn't have enough time to get out of Ida before the cascade overload spreads technology-eating robots from space all over the world.
I just want you to know, I'm kind of OK.
You taught me that there are things in life worth dying for.
And I am so glad I got attacked by that tentacled ass-monster back at the lab, and that you framed me so I'd have to be your sidekick.
Because I am so proud to be a Middleman.
I'm proud to know you.
And I want you to know that since my dad disappeared, you're the closest thing I've had to a father.
I'm honored, Dubbie.
I hope I taught you one more thing.
What? Never give up.
I don't envy you explaining this one to my mom.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs.
Watson.
But your daughter was shrunk to the size of a dust mite and trapped inside an android's brain by a bunch of indestructible little robots.
" Indestructible.
That's it.
Open the hatch.
Let the nanobots in.
What are you doing? When I give the signal, unshrink me.
- You'll be overrun.
- Bring it on.
In five, four.
three, two Dubbie? - Dubbie! Structural integrity compromised.
- Flood the tubes! - Detonation in five seconds.
Four, three, two Contamination neutralized.
Now ending lockdown.
Nanobots as body armor.
Nice work.
What are we gonna do with them? I guess we'll have to build them a really big circuit to take apart.
- A nanobot habitat? - I think they'll be happy enough.
Aren't they just gonna try and dismantle our technology and send us back to the Stone Age? They're programmed to destroy technology from the inside out, not the outside in.
- So, they can try, but - Plus, they're fun to watch.
Like an ant farm.
You know all those things I said before when I thought I was going to die? Well, I meant every word of it.
OK, Tyler.
I am making my final approach to the hotdog stand.
??? Arriving in T-minus five, ?? four, three, two - Whoa.
- What's the matter, Dubster? Never had someone buy you a hotdog before? You must have had an exciting day.
You know.
Same old, same old.
You? Just another boring day at the office.
The good news is I now have an office to go to.
You're looking at the official attache, assistant and aide de camp to Manservant Neville.
Maybe a few other things, too, we only got to the A's.
- Wow! - Good wow, or bad wow? - Are you happy? - I kinda think I am.
If you're happy, I'm great.
You know I think you're awesome, right? Like, amazingly awesome.
I don't know.
How awesome is amazingly awesome? If you were a magazine, they would call you Tyler Beat.
- Really? That amazingly awesome? - Really.
Off, then on, then off again.
- Nice try.
- Ida! Hundreds of years with the same old Ida.
Think you can wait until the warranty runs out this time? You feeling better? Not homicidal? Don't push me.