Monsters vs. Aliens (2013) s01e22 Episode Script
Speak Not the Q Word
MVA MVA Monsters vs.
Aliens It's us vs.
them Foe vs.
friend Brain vs.
B.
O.
B.
It's a super-freaky job Oh, yeah, it's freaky.
MVA Monsters vs.
Aliens Monsters vs.
Aliens Monsters vs.
Aliens MVA 1x36 - "This Ball Must Be Dodged" It is incoming, it is on fire, and it feels neither remorse nor mercy.
It is Dodge Ball, and so help me, I do love it.
Whoo, ha! Throw your ball, don't get hit, anything else goes.
- Anything goes, you say? - No rules.
Just-a the way-a I like it.
Hope you wanted some big, red, Dodge-Ball-shaped tattoos on your butt.
Oh, ho.
That sounds awesome.
- We should get those.
- Question: If we're gonna play Monsters vs.
Aliens Dodge Ball, shouldn't there be a ball? What? I put out three balls before I even called you in here.
- Where did - Commence treachery! - Dodge.
- Hey.
You can't just we hadn't even started yet.
We were very efficient.
I drew pictures.
- Anything goes.
- That is indeed the name of the game.
- Link, B.
O.
B.
, Doctor, you're out.
- Butt tattoo time.
Wait, I'm low priority? I'm the stinking team leader.
Oh, no, you Ah! Oof! - Dang.
- Nothing personal, Susan.
We simply took out the real threats first.
Smartest Guilty.
Strongest - You got that right, toes.
- And most unpredictable.
Dodge.
Your only power is to make yourself an even bigger target.
Of course you'd be the last to pick off.
Last pick.
For our Dodge Ball team's last pick, we'll take the practice dummy.
What? But it can't even dodge.
That makes two of you.
Ha, ha! Elementary school recess.
I've been last pick before.
- It made me angry.
- Yes, well, that's fascinating.
We're going to throw balls at you now.
But you know what I did with that anger? I learned to play the heck out of Dodge Ball! - Wow.
- Cheater.
I call cheater! - Takes one to know one.
- Precisely.
I should know.
She left the rampage room.
Surely that is out-of-bounds.
- Anything goes.
- Let the hunt begin.
Vornicarn, come, we must deliver a flaming ball of pain.
I wouldn't get too worked up.
She's all by her lonesome with no Dodge Ball.
Laugh it up, bread-head.
Storm's a-comin'.
and you ain't got an umbrella.
Uh, Suze? It's really freaky when you talk in the walls like that.
- Sorry.
- Need any help? Enemy intel? - Misinformation? Trash talk? - I've been practicing my insults.
Hey, is that a ham, or did your face just Wait, it's probably just a ham.
Are you holding a ham? Ah, he was just holding a ham.
We may be eliminated, but we are still your teammates.
Right now, I don't have teammates.
I have a mission.
- And this time, it's personal.
- Bye, Susan! Play safe.
We'll save you some ham.
Ball at the ready, Sqweep? At the ready.
There she is! Fire! - Deepest apologies.
- Yes, yes.
My mistake there she is! Yet again, we are very sorry for this mistake.
I can't help it if all Earth females look ali There she is! Ow.
Henry ain't a lady.
And that is why we do not strike until we have a confirmed target, Vornicarn.
Huh? Vornicarn? Vornicarn! What's going Sorry, it's just it's kind of hilarious.
"Now, I have a Dodge Ball.
Ha, ha, ha.
" - Way to go, Susan.
- One down, three to go.
You have no way of proving this was Susan.
Uh, perhaps it was an industrial accident.
"Sincerely, Susan.
'Heart.
' P.
S.
You're next.
" Vornicarn, you're out.
Someone insulted the wrong lady.
Susan.
Heed the squaring of Sta'abi.
This ball will taste the flesh - of your soft Earth belly.
- Nuh-uh.
I know.
Wall talkin'.
Totally freaky, right? Not a lady! Ooh.
Wow, wow, whoa Hm.
The target is wounded.
Good.
Tuesday, I make the borsch.
My borsch.
Sta'abi, you're out.
I love my Dodge Ball.
- Ooh.
- I'm coming for you, Coverton.
And Dodge Ball's coming with me.
- Huh? - Oh, dear.
Guess who's got all the spherical projectile again.
In your face, Susan.
Do-over? - Oh! - I believe we are losing now.
Unacceptable.
I refuse to be defeated by one human woman with a simple rubber orb.
- Ooh.
Devious idea alert.
- Proceed.
Surely, a child genius like you could find some way - to weaponize these Dodge Balls.
Hm? - That sounds dangerous.
Well, then I suppose we'll just have to admit - she's outsmarted us.
- I am on it.
We really should do a full lab test before taking these into the field.
No time.
She could be anywhere.
- Whoo! - Ah! Ah, Susan.
I see you've met our first modified Dodge Ball, A human-seeking missile I call "bash-Susan hunter.
" Oh, look.
And here's his twin brother Zippy Fast-o.
Increased acceleration with each impact.
Not even you can dodge it forever.
- No! - I forfeit.
Ah! Dodge.
- I don't play for forfeits.
- Sqweep, you're out.
Nicely aimed, Susan.
- I aim to make you hurt.
Uh, uh, uh, uh.
Not so fast, Susan.
You're still holding my ultimate backup plan.
I call him "Boom, boom, wah! Bye, bye.
" If you throw that ball, the ensuing explosion will vaporize everything within a 50-mile radius.
Coverton, you maniac.
Oh, calm your antennae.
She's not going to throw it.
She has no choice but to give up and declare me the winner.
Isn't that right, Susan? Boom.
Wait a minute.
When did we go from crazy awesome to crazy crazy? I surrender! You win! It's not worth exploding over.
I told you I don't play for forfeits.
Back it down, Ginormica.
That is an order.
Try and stop me.
Curse your expertly honed dodging skills.
Susan, I know you think this will heal the trauma of being last pick.
But will it? Will it really? - Yes.
- Wow! That's great.
You go right ahead then, sister.
Stop her, you mindless goo-bag! - Who's last pick now, chump? - Coverton, you're out! Victory, Team Monster, but mostly Susan.
What? But but she can't do that.
That was an eyeball.
Anything goes.
Sorry, B.
O.
B.
I needed a loaner.
- Forgive me? - You monster.
Wait, sorry.
Mixing up words again.
You the monster.
Yeah.
Go, Susan.
1x37 - "It Spoke With Authority" La cucaracha is down.
Secure the area.
Area secured.
Send in whiner baby.
Guys, I told you I hate that code name.
Excuse me, but could someone explain why my lower thorax is being crushed? - Sorry.
- Leave us.
You heard whiner baby.
Roll out.
Nobody respects my authority.
An odd statement, Mr.
President, considering you are well, you are the President.
It doesn't mean what it used to.
Do you know what my typical day is like? Listen up, Mr.
Speaker.
It's my way or the hello? - Margaret, coffee.
- Not my job, sir.
- Get your own.
- No, Ike no, outside.
Oh.
Bad dog.
Very bad dog.
- Margaret! - Pick it up yourself, sir.
Nobody pays attention to me.
- Wha were you saying something? - Doctor, this is a crisis.
I need to ask the country to make some hard sacrifices, and I'm just not authoritative enough.
Give me some authority.
Make people do what I say.
Anybody see my mePod? I can't remember where I plugged it in.
- Shh-shh.
President is talking.
- So, my fellow Americans, today, I am asking you to cut back on the french fries.
Seriously, you really don't need them with every meal.
- Yes, sir.
- This is weird.
Usually, the President's speech is just so boring, I Sorry, I fell asleep - just thinking about them.
- I know.
But this time, there was something about the President, like like he exuded this this - Authority? - Yes, exactly.
I wanted to do whatever he said.
Dr.
C? You're laughing in an I-did-something-mad-science-y kind of way.
I may have helped the President a wee bit.
- Uh-oh.
- You see, I gave him The air of authority.
The air of authority? A delicate cologne with hints of sandalwood spice and the ability to make everyone do exactly what you say.
- You didn't.
- I did.
But worry not, Susan, the effect lasts but a few hours.
I swear, am I the only person around here - with any sense of responsibility? - What? Nobody should have that kind of power! - It's too dangerous.
- But, Susan You know I'm right.
Lock that authority stuff up for good.
If it fell into the wrong hands, who knows what could happen? Oh, I have a few ideas.
Um, hello? Your shrink ray stinks.
- Hush mode.
- Activating hush mode! Now! - What? - Shh.
At last.
The air of authority.
- Yo, Coverton.
- Oh, no.
B.
O.
B.
! Uh, have you seen my mePod? I plugged it in somewhere.
I just can't remember where.
Oh, hey, check it.
I'm like a firefly's butt.
What's all the noise? Coverton, what are you doing here? You were up to something sneaky.
You got that sneaky look on your face - Mm.
- And your feet.
See it? Sneaky.
- The air of authority is missing.
- You weaselly hover jerk.
No, no, no, no.
No, I was just doing something extremely innocent that I will think of if you give me a moment.
Guys, based on absolutely nothing, - I feel we should believe Coverton.
- I you do? Gee, B.
O.
B.
, now that you say it, I think you're right.
- Really? - Yeah.
My first instinct was to launch Coverton back into space with my twin booster rockets, sha-bing and sha-bang.
Mwah.
But then, I listened to what B.
O.
B.
had to say and realized "wow, I need to learn to trust.
" B.
O.
B.
is after all the authority on the subject of Coverton.
- And really all subjects, right? - Oh, yeah.
Totally.
Wait.
Is the air of authority affecting me? - B.
O.
B.
, tell us to do something.
- Okay.
Make funny noises.
- Oh, fascinating.
- You know what else is fascinating? Cake.
- Me likey cake.
- Yes! I'm enthralled by frosted baked goods.
I also like hats.
Hey, wouldn't it be great if there were cake hats? - Let's go make some.
- Genius.
Mm, not at all what I had planned, but it'll work.
What the ding-dong-diddly are you people doing? - The conga.
- And just why are you wasting taxpayer dollars on cake hats and latin dance? - B.
O.
B.
told us to.
- I did.
Sounds like a fine idea to me.
I don't know why I'm not affected.
My genetically superior telekinetic brain, I suppose.
Mm, point is they're all listening to the idiot, and the idiot listens to me.
I can't think of a better opportunity to bring Earth to its knees.
Coverton down! - Hug.
- Hug.
Come on.
Bring it in.
Hug.
I love hug time.
B.
O.
B.
, check it out.
I painted a flower just like you said.
Susan, that's nice.
I want to acknowledge the effort, but when I said you should paint flowers, I meant you should paint flowers.
- See? - And now, Coverton strikes.
Here's a hug.
Ooh, say, B.
O.
B.
You know what goes great with cake? Ice cream.
Might I suggest an ice cream social in the mess hall? Hm, I mean, yeah, the whole ice cream social thing is kind of old-timey, but let me put my special B.
O.
B.
spin on this.
Hey, everybody.
B.
O.
B.
here.
Meet at the mess hall at oh-right-now-hundred hours for a fish and sour cream social.
Yay! - You coming, buddy? - I'll be along momentarily, buddy.
Sometimes, it's just too easy.
And now, for my favorite tune, "power core meltdown.
" Ah, ha! Warning: Power core has become unstable.
T-minus 10 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
That could burn a hole right through the Earth's crust.
- And destroy all life on your planet.
- What should we do, B.
O.
B.
? I say we pretend it's not happening and hope it goes away.
Yay! T-minus 8 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
Not for Coverton.
Buh-bye, Earth.
Escape pod, activate.
Initiate launch sequence.
Oh, and for my in-flight meal, let's go with a goblet of blatoxinal juice and seared gurgle beast.
Unable to comply.
What? Is the gurgle beast not fresh? No power.
Shutting down.
How can it not have power? I always keep it plugged in.
"Charging mePod.
Doo not un-ploog.
" B.
O.
B.
! Warning: T-minus 7 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
Floog-nog! It's not working.
Someone is going to have to actually go into the core and re-route the power coils.
And that someone has to be Dr.
Cockroach, you must save us.
Sorry, B.
O.
B.
Told me to pretend it's not happening and hope it goes away.
A most sensible plan.
You, prehistoric fish-man.
Surely, you will save us.
Who am I going to listen to? My authoritative blue bud or you? Dude, you're not even wearing a cake hat.
B.
O.
B.
, please, I beg you, tell them to fix the power core.
Coverton, buddy, you look tense.
- Dig in.
- Mm.
It does look rather tasty No! Must save Coverton! Warning.
T-Minus 4 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
Oh, that doesn't look fun at all.
T-minus 3 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
- It burns! - Here's another thought I had.
What if we all talk like this? Well, that's a good idea, B.
O.
B.
, but I can't do it.
Don't hate, everybody, but seems kinda dumb? - No offense, B.
O.
B.
- Oh, none taken.
All right, since we're speaking our minds, I've been getting crumbs in my hair all day, and it's starting to make me crazy.
Guys, well, why didn't you say so before? Well, you seemed so authoritative and It was the air of authority! Thank goodness the effects are only temporary.
The air of what now? Doctor, was I prancing and hugging and wearing a dumb cake on my noggin 'cause of some lame-brained invention of yours? Well, I don't know if you'd call a high-end fragrance an invention, but Warning: T-minus 1 minute to catastrophic implosion.
This is not our top concern at the moment.
Someone needs to get into the core and re-route - Never mind.
- My toes.
- My precious toes.
- Someone's already doing it.
Catastrophic implosion in 5, 4, 3, 2 Catastrophic implosion averted.
So tender.
So very, very raw.
- Coverton.
- All this time, I thought you wanted to destroy the Earth, and here you are saving it.
- Way to go.
- Up high, alien guy.
- Well done, sir.
- All right.
Aliens It's us vs.
them Foe vs.
friend Brain vs.
B.
O.
B.
It's a super-freaky job Oh, yeah, it's freaky.
MVA Monsters vs.
Aliens Monsters vs.
Aliens Monsters vs.
Aliens MVA 1x36 - "This Ball Must Be Dodged" It is incoming, it is on fire, and it feels neither remorse nor mercy.
It is Dodge Ball, and so help me, I do love it.
Whoo, ha! Throw your ball, don't get hit, anything else goes.
- Anything goes, you say? - No rules.
Just-a the way-a I like it.
Hope you wanted some big, red, Dodge-Ball-shaped tattoos on your butt.
Oh, ho.
That sounds awesome.
- We should get those.
- Question: If we're gonna play Monsters vs.
Aliens Dodge Ball, shouldn't there be a ball? What? I put out three balls before I even called you in here.
- Where did - Commence treachery! - Dodge.
- Hey.
You can't just we hadn't even started yet.
We were very efficient.
I drew pictures.
- Anything goes.
- That is indeed the name of the game.
- Link, B.
O.
B.
, Doctor, you're out.
- Butt tattoo time.
Wait, I'm low priority? I'm the stinking team leader.
Oh, no, you Ah! Oof! - Dang.
- Nothing personal, Susan.
We simply took out the real threats first.
Smartest Guilty.
Strongest - You got that right, toes.
- And most unpredictable.
Dodge.
Your only power is to make yourself an even bigger target.
Of course you'd be the last to pick off.
Last pick.
For our Dodge Ball team's last pick, we'll take the practice dummy.
What? But it can't even dodge.
That makes two of you.
Ha, ha! Elementary school recess.
I've been last pick before.
- It made me angry.
- Yes, well, that's fascinating.
We're going to throw balls at you now.
But you know what I did with that anger? I learned to play the heck out of Dodge Ball! - Wow.
- Cheater.
I call cheater! - Takes one to know one.
- Precisely.
I should know.
She left the rampage room.
Surely that is out-of-bounds.
- Anything goes.
- Let the hunt begin.
Vornicarn, come, we must deliver a flaming ball of pain.
I wouldn't get too worked up.
She's all by her lonesome with no Dodge Ball.
Laugh it up, bread-head.
Storm's a-comin'.
and you ain't got an umbrella.
Uh, Suze? It's really freaky when you talk in the walls like that.
- Sorry.
- Need any help? Enemy intel? - Misinformation? Trash talk? - I've been practicing my insults.
Hey, is that a ham, or did your face just Wait, it's probably just a ham.
Are you holding a ham? Ah, he was just holding a ham.
We may be eliminated, but we are still your teammates.
Right now, I don't have teammates.
I have a mission.
- And this time, it's personal.
- Bye, Susan! Play safe.
We'll save you some ham.
Ball at the ready, Sqweep? At the ready.
There she is! Fire! - Deepest apologies.
- Yes, yes.
My mistake there she is! Yet again, we are very sorry for this mistake.
I can't help it if all Earth females look ali There she is! Ow.
Henry ain't a lady.
And that is why we do not strike until we have a confirmed target, Vornicarn.
Huh? Vornicarn? Vornicarn! What's going Sorry, it's just it's kind of hilarious.
"Now, I have a Dodge Ball.
Ha, ha, ha.
" - Way to go, Susan.
- One down, three to go.
You have no way of proving this was Susan.
Uh, perhaps it was an industrial accident.
"Sincerely, Susan.
'Heart.
' P.
S.
You're next.
" Vornicarn, you're out.
Someone insulted the wrong lady.
Susan.
Heed the squaring of Sta'abi.
This ball will taste the flesh - of your soft Earth belly.
- Nuh-uh.
I know.
Wall talkin'.
Totally freaky, right? Not a lady! Ooh.
Wow, wow, whoa Hm.
The target is wounded.
Good.
Tuesday, I make the borsch.
My borsch.
Sta'abi, you're out.
I love my Dodge Ball.
- Ooh.
- I'm coming for you, Coverton.
And Dodge Ball's coming with me.
- Huh? - Oh, dear.
Guess who's got all the spherical projectile again.
In your face, Susan.
Do-over? - Oh! - I believe we are losing now.
Unacceptable.
I refuse to be defeated by one human woman with a simple rubber orb.
- Ooh.
Devious idea alert.
- Proceed.
Surely, a child genius like you could find some way - to weaponize these Dodge Balls.
Hm? - That sounds dangerous.
Well, then I suppose we'll just have to admit - she's outsmarted us.
- I am on it.
We really should do a full lab test before taking these into the field.
No time.
She could be anywhere.
- Whoo! - Ah! Ah, Susan.
I see you've met our first modified Dodge Ball, A human-seeking missile I call "bash-Susan hunter.
" Oh, look.
And here's his twin brother Zippy Fast-o.
Increased acceleration with each impact.
Not even you can dodge it forever.
- No! - I forfeit.
Ah! Dodge.
- I don't play for forfeits.
- Sqweep, you're out.
Nicely aimed, Susan.
- I aim to make you hurt.
Uh, uh, uh, uh.
Not so fast, Susan.
You're still holding my ultimate backup plan.
I call him "Boom, boom, wah! Bye, bye.
" If you throw that ball, the ensuing explosion will vaporize everything within a 50-mile radius.
Coverton, you maniac.
Oh, calm your antennae.
She's not going to throw it.
She has no choice but to give up and declare me the winner.
Isn't that right, Susan? Boom.
Wait a minute.
When did we go from crazy awesome to crazy crazy? I surrender! You win! It's not worth exploding over.
I told you I don't play for forfeits.
Back it down, Ginormica.
That is an order.
Try and stop me.
Curse your expertly honed dodging skills.
Susan, I know you think this will heal the trauma of being last pick.
But will it? Will it really? - Yes.
- Wow! That's great.
You go right ahead then, sister.
Stop her, you mindless goo-bag! - Who's last pick now, chump? - Coverton, you're out! Victory, Team Monster, but mostly Susan.
What? But but she can't do that.
That was an eyeball.
Anything goes.
Sorry, B.
O.
B.
I needed a loaner.
- Forgive me? - You monster.
Wait, sorry.
Mixing up words again.
You the monster.
Yeah.
Go, Susan.
1x37 - "It Spoke With Authority" La cucaracha is down.
Secure the area.
Area secured.
Send in whiner baby.
Guys, I told you I hate that code name.
Excuse me, but could someone explain why my lower thorax is being crushed? - Sorry.
- Leave us.
You heard whiner baby.
Roll out.
Nobody respects my authority.
An odd statement, Mr.
President, considering you are well, you are the President.
It doesn't mean what it used to.
Do you know what my typical day is like? Listen up, Mr.
Speaker.
It's my way or the hello? - Margaret, coffee.
- Not my job, sir.
- Get your own.
- No, Ike no, outside.
Oh.
Bad dog.
Very bad dog.
- Margaret! - Pick it up yourself, sir.
Nobody pays attention to me.
- Wha were you saying something? - Doctor, this is a crisis.
I need to ask the country to make some hard sacrifices, and I'm just not authoritative enough.
Give me some authority.
Make people do what I say.
Anybody see my mePod? I can't remember where I plugged it in.
- Shh-shh.
President is talking.
- So, my fellow Americans, today, I am asking you to cut back on the french fries.
Seriously, you really don't need them with every meal.
- Yes, sir.
- This is weird.
Usually, the President's speech is just so boring, I Sorry, I fell asleep - just thinking about them.
- I know.
But this time, there was something about the President, like like he exuded this this - Authority? - Yes, exactly.
I wanted to do whatever he said.
Dr.
C? You're laughing in an I-did-something-mad-science-y kind of way.
I may have helped the President a wee bit.
- Uh-oh.
- You see, I gave him The air of authority.
The air of authority? A delicate cologne with hints of sandalwood spice and the ability to make everyone do exactly what you say.
- You didn't.
- I did.
But worry not, Susan, the effect lasts but a few hours.
I swear, am I the only person around here - with any sense of responsibility? - What? Nobody should have that kind of power! - It's too dangerous.
- But, Susan You know I'm right.
Lock that authority stuff up for good.
If it fell into the wrong hands, who knows what could happen? Oh, I have a few ideas.
Um, hello? Your shrink ray stinks.
- Hush mode.
- Activating hush mode! Now! - What? - Shh.
At last.
The air of authority.
- Yo, Coverton.
- Oh, no.
B.
O.
B.
! Uh, have you seen my mePod? I plugged it in somewhere.
I just can't remember where.
Oh, hey, check it.
I'm like a firefly's butt.
What's all the noise? Coverton, what are you doing here? You were up to something sneaky.
You got that sneaky look on your face - Mm.
- And your feet.
See it? Sneaky.
- The air of authority is missing.
- You weaselly hover jerk.
No, no, no, no.
No, I was just doing something extremely innocent that I will think of if you give me a moment.
Guys, based on absolutely nothing, - I feel we should believe Coverton.
- I you do? Gee, B.
O.
B.
, now that you say it, I think you're right.
- Really? - Yeah.
My first instinct was to launch Coverton back into space with my twin booster rockets, sha-bing and sha-bang.
Mwah.
But then, I listened to what B.
O.
B.
had to say and realized "wow, I need to learn to trust.
" B.
O.
B.
is after all the authority on the subject of Coverton.
- And really all subjects, right? - Oh, yeah.
Totally.
Wait.
Is the air of authority affecting me? - B.
O.
B.
, tell us to do something.
- Okay.
Make funny noises.
- Oh, fascinating.
- You know what else is fascinating? Cake.
- Me likey cake.
- Yes! I'm enthralled by frosted baked goods.
I also like hats.
Hey, wouldn't it be great if there were cake hats? - Let's go make some.
- Genius.
Mm, not at all what I had planned, but it'll work.
What the ding-dong-diddly are you people doing? - The conga.
- And just why are you wasting taxpayer dollars on cake hats and latin dance? - B.
O.
B.
told us to.
- I did.
Sounds like a fine idea to me.
I don't know why I'm not affected.
My genetically superior telekinetic brain, I suppose.
Mm, point is they're all listening to the idiot, and the idiot listens to me.
I can't think of a better opportunity to bring Earth to its knees.
Coverton down! - Hug.
- Hug.
Come on.
Bring it in.
Hug.
I love hug time.
B.
O.
B.
, check it out.
I painted a flower just like you said.
Susan, that's nice.
I want to acknowledge the effort, but when I said you should paint flowers, I meant you should paint flowers.
- See? - And now, Coverton strikes.
Here's a hug.
Ooh, say, B.
O.
B.
You know what goes great with cake? Ice cream.
Might I suggest an ice cream social in the mess hall? Hm, I mean, yeah, the whole ice cream social thing is kind of old-timey, but let me put my special B.
O.
B.
spin on this.
Hey, everybody.
B.
O.
B.
here.
Meet at the mess hall at oh-right-now-hundred hours for a fish and sour cream social.
Yay! - You coming, buddy? - I'll be along momentarily, buddy.
Sometimes, it's just too easy.
And now, for my favorite tune, "power core meltdown.
" Ah, ha! Warning: Power core has become unstable.
T-minus 10 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
That could burn a hole right through the Earth's crust.
- And destroy all life on your planet.
- What should we do, B.
O.
B.
? I say we pretend it's not happening and hope it goes away.
Yay! T-minus 8 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
Not for Coverton.
Buh-bye, Earth.
Escape pod, activate.
Initiate launch sequence.
Oh, and for my in-flight meal, let's go with a goblet of blatoxinal juice and seared gurgle beast.
Unable to comply.
What? Is the gurgle beast not fresh? No power.
Shutting down.
How can it not have power? I always keep it plugged in.
"Charging mePod.
Doo not un-ploog.
" B.
O.
B.
! Warning: T-minus 7 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
Floog-nog! It's not working.
Someone is going to have to actually go into the core and re-route the power coils.
And that someone has to be Dr.
Cockroach, you must save us.
Sorry, B.
O.
B.
Told me to pretend it's not happening and hope it goes away.
A most sensible plan.
You, prehistoric fish-man.
Surely, you will save us.
Who am I going to listen to? My authoritative blue bud or you? Dude, you're not even wearing a cake hat.
B.
O.
B.
, please, I beg you, tell them to fix the power core.
Coverton, buddy, you look tense.
- Dig in.
- Mm.
It does look rather tasty No! Must save Coverton! Warning.
T-Minus 4 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
Oh, that doesn't look fun at all.
T-minus 3 minutes to catastrophic implosion.
- It burns! - Here's another thought I had.
What if we all talk like this? Well, that's a good idea, B.
O.
B.
, but I can't do it.
Don't hate, everybody, but seems kinda dumb? - No offense, B.
O.
B.
- Oh, none taken.
All right, since we're speaking our minds, I've been getting crumbs in my hair all day, and it's starting to make me crazy.
Guys, well, why didn't you say so before? Well, you seemed so authoritative and It was the air of authority! Thank goodness the effects are only temporary.
The air of what now? Doctor, was I prancing and hugging and wearing a dumb cake on my noggin 'cause of some lame-brained invention of yours? Well, I don't know if you'd call a high-end fragrance an invention, but Warning: T-minus 1 minute to catastrophic implosion.
This is not our top concern at the moment.
Someone needs to get into the core and re-route - Never mind.
- My toes.
- My precious toes.
- Someone's already doing it.
Catastrophic implosion in 5, 4, 3, 2 Catastrophic implosion averted.
So tender.
So very, very raw.
- Coverton.
- All this time, I thought you wanted to destroy the Earth, and here you are saving it.
- Way to go.
- Up high, alien guy.
- Well done, sir.
- All right.