Ballmastrz 9009 (2018) s02e08 Episode Script
Dance Dance Convolution?! Egos Warped...
1
"Ballmastrz"
Ace:
"Dance Dance Convolution?
Egos warped by the hair gel
of hubris!"
Atonement, now!"
[Indistinct crowd noise]
You think you can take me?
Well, put this
on your desk.
Yes.
Get ready for a
Mega marble clack attack.
For crying
out loud, Ace.
You have the dumbest names
for this stuff.
Next time, I name
our transformation.
Okay, dork?
Our real branding issue
is that awful victory dance.
Let's grab our panties,
and split.
I mean,
I don't see why I can't
shake my tail feathers
just a little.
Hey, we're not saying
you can't have fun, man.
We're just saying
you're lame.
That's no way
to treat a
A superstar.
Exactly.
Also, who said that?
Better question if we're
all here, who's driving?
Milky van Montebag
super manager to the superstars.
How dare you infiltrate
our blunderbuss,
you sneaky
slime bag.
H-H-Hold up, guys.
This slime bag happens to rep
the best in the game.
True.
But I've seen his type,
and they ain't
exactly trustworthy.
He wants us to be
more presentable?
I'm a pitch-perfect bitch as is,
and I'll cut any [bleep]
down who denies it.
I second that profanity-laden tirade.
What does this butt-shagging
quack have to offer?
I'll get you a lucrative
mall appearance
in an upper-middle-class
metazone this weekend.
All: Deal.
So, what's the plan?
Q&A? Autographs?
I just got my ink
bladders refilled.
And we better not get bilked,
milkman.
Everyone gets
a fair share
though I charge an extra 10
for dirty voicemail greetings.
Don't worry your pretty little
hungover head.
It's all figured out.
What the hell?
Excuse me
"Amble Fanz"?
But we're a team.
None of us are more important
than the rest.
That reminds me.
Hair gel it's key
for a superstar
the one that's more
important than the rest.
- What?
- Well, I am Ballmaster.
You are half
a Ballmaster.
The bankable half.
Ace Ambling
sweet, playful,
non-threatening heartthrob
you can take home to mother,
but wouldn't
'cause mother's hot for him too.
And I guess some backup dancers
wouldn't hurt.
Yep, I called it
total con man.
- We're out of here, fellas.
- Wait.
Gosh darn it, Gaz.
It's high time I think and act
and shake my booty for myself.
You want that,
you do it on your own,
but it better not get
in the team's way.
Capisce?
Well, kid. I believe
you got some moves
you've been itching
to bust out.
Announcer: Ace Mania is
sweeping the consortium.
The eenie, weeny preteen-y
bopper is winning the hearts
and loins of ladies
across the land
who dig his innocence
and overly sexualized image.
Check his signature groove,
the Amble Scramble.
Ace-tastic, baby ♪
Ace ♪
♪♪
Ace, Ace Am-believer ♪
Ace-tastic, baby ♪
Ace ♪
Ace, Ace Am-believer ♪
Wow, ace-tastic, baby ♪
♪♪
He's so pure.
I will corrupt us both.
He reminds me
of the youth I wasted
chasing unobtainable
superstars.
I'm young again.
Yeah, we totally dated.
Why didn't I know a good fad
when I saw one?
[Cries]
Announcer: Babes and the bucks
are rolling in,
thanks to super manager
Milky Van Montebag.
Mr. Milky, sir,
I'm the superstar here.
Aren't I owed my due?
Of course
your hairdo, that is.
Now, get them,
superstar.
[Circus music plays]
[Elephant trumpets]
You've been skipping practice
for a week, runt.
You better be
up to snuff.
Being more important than you
guys sure does keep me busy.
Thanks for noticing.
I got some thoughts on how
to pound these clowns.
Maybe we just
Actually, let's skip
the transformation.
It's best that my face
stays front and center.
What about me,
you glory whore?
You help
with the image.
[Muffled]
What the hell?
Amble Scramble
pelvic ramble.
Announcer: Another win for Ace
and some other guys.
If this keeps up,
the championships
might just be in store.
This one is for every single
one of my Amble fans.
So, we're winning the battle,
but losing the war,
in terms of dignity,
right?
And we'll only
survive it
if the runt has got a shred
of team spirit left.
It's time to gamble with
being
[sighs]
emotionally present.
Hey, we got to
talk, superstar.
This is a private
locker room.
Did you bribe
my security guard?
Well, that would've
been easier
than breaking his legs,
but live and learn, eh?
Just schedule an appointment
with Milky
if you want
some image consulting.
I'll charge you
a friend rate.
Eh, kid, I never thought
I'd say this,
but you're
reminding me of me
and not the "titillating yet
disarming sexual magnetism" me.
You know I'm a burnout,
but you don't know how many
bridges I burnt along the way.
I had another life
before the game.
My civilian name is actually
Gazmerelda Digzfield, as in
As in the mega-rich Digzfield
Lunar Drilling Corporation?
As in mega-rich asshole.
Yes. I'm the
estranged daughter
of the gajillionaire Moon-mining
tycoon Rupert T. Digzfield IV.
You see, I first started
playing the game
to stick it to my snobbish
high-society family
especially my ruthless
overbearing old man.
And becoming an athlete was
unbefitting to his future heir.
I wanted my own say,
and to have fun saying it,
so I made the game
my new life.
I worked hard, and I got good
I mean, really good
the best young player
of a generation, they said.
I earned it by myself, without
the family name of fortune.
That sense of pride,
it was better than money,
better than winning.
I belong.
That's why I love the game.
But fame is a tricky thing.
Leeches like Milky were always
trying to get a piece.
They'll steer you down
the wrong path to get it.
I got cocky.
I lost my way.
Eventually, I was
trying anything
just to feel
something again.
Didn't work out so well,
which is basically
how I became school mom
to you lot of lovable losers.
Now, I got a chance
we got a chance
to really belong again,
if we stick together.
Don't make
the same mistake I did,
and lose sight of why
the game really matters, Ace.
Oh. I get it.
I always looked up to you,
but now I'm on top,
and you can't handle it.
You might have burnt out,
but my light is shining strong.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I'm storming out
of my private locker room
to demand another one.
[Sighs]
Well, so much for my nurturing
advice and raw vulnerability.
Looks like I'm gonna
have to straighten out
this little runt
the old-fashioned way.
I called you to the Leptons'
official war room because,
A, we got a problem
with Ace, and B,
it turns out we had a war room
all along, but never used it.
How do we bust him back down
to the selfless little sprite
we all know,
and love to exploit?
We'll get our pride
and our Ace back
if we destroy
that mooching Milky first.
Every asshole leaves
a trail of turds.
We follow this one, it'll lead
to something that really stinks.
And we'll make Ace
take a huge whiff.
Come on, guys.
I'm a mobile hot spot
of burning rage.
♪♪
♪♪
My superstardom
it's built on something this
potentially harmful
to my image?
Damn. I expected
some money laundering,
and maybe some weird sex stuff,
but this is textbook evil.
[Yells]
Lulu is right.
We can't simply
cut ties with Milky.
We've got to
cut him to pieces.
I'm down to slam
this scammer.
We all in?
Come on.
Where's the whip-harder button?
What the?
Milky, this isn't the way
of an Ace Am-believer.
You're fired!
You're welcome to recommend
a replacement.
♪♪
♪♪
♪♪
The widening gulf
between the rich
and the permanent underclass
has yielded
its tragic logical endgame
of late-stage capitalism,
forcing me to re-evaluate
my own commitment
to the toxic
performative workaholism,
and sickening my stomach.
Yet, I stoically retain
the preternatural ability
to unleash my ultimate attack
the fruit of my purely voluntary
and justly compensated
sacrifice Umbilicus.
♪♪
♪♪
Easy on the merch, guys.
Both: Shackle-shattering jump-spiring
ultimate payback attack.
♪♪
Ace-tastic, baby.
So, you ready to admit Ace-mania
did more harm than good?
I was naive to think
it could be managed
by a single
valuable person.
Ace-mania is
an unmanageable phenomenon
spanning the universe.
All: Ugh.
"Ballmastrz" ♪
"Ballmastrz" ♪
"Ballmastrz"? ♪
"Ballmast " ♪
"Ballmastrz"
Ace:
"Dance Dance Convolution?
Egos warped by the hair gel
of hubris!"
Atonement, now!"
[Indistinct crowd noise]
You think you can take me?
Well, put this
on your desk.
Yes.
Get ready for a
Mega marble clack attack.
For crying
out loud, Ace.
You have the dumbest names
for this stuff.
Next time, I name
our transformation.
Okay, dork?
Our real branding issue
is that awful victory dance.
Let's grab our panties,
and split.
I mean,
I don't see why I can't
shake my tail feathers
just a little.
Hey, we're not saying
you can't have fun, man.
We're just saying
you're lame.
That's no way
to treat a
A superstar.
Exactly.
Also, who said that?
Better question if we're
all here, who's driving?
Milky van Montebag
super manager to the superstars.
How dare you infiltrate
our blunderbuss,
you sneaky
slime bag.
H-H-Hold up, guys.
This slime bag happens to rep
the best in the game.
True.
But I've seen his type,
and they ain't
exactly trustworthy.
He wants us to be
more presentable?
I'm a pitch-perfect bitch as is,
and I'll cut any [bleep]
down who denies it.
I second that profanity-laden tirade.
What does this butt-shagging
quack have to offer?
I'll get you a lucrative
mall appearance
in an upper-middle-class
metazone this weekend.
All: Deal.
So, what's the plan?
Q&A? Autographs?
I just got my ink
bladders refilled.
And we better not get bilked,
milkman.
Everyone gets
a fair share
though I charge an extra 10
for dirty voicemail greetings.
Don't worry your pretty little
hungover head.
It's all figured out.
What the hell?
Excuse me
"Amble Fanz"?
But we're a team.
None of us are more important
than the rest.
That reminds me.
Hair gel it's key
for a superstar
the one that's more
important than the rest.
- What?
- Well, I am Ballmaster.
You are half
a Ballmaster.
The bankable half.
Ace Ambling
sweet, playful,
non-threatening heartthrob
you can take home to mother,
but wouldn't
'cause mother's hot for him too.
And I guess some backup dancers
wouldn't hurt.
Yep, I called it
total con man.
- We're out of here, fellas.
- Wait.
Gosh darn it, Gaz.
It's high time I think and act
and shake my booty for myself.
You want that,
you do it on your own,
but it better not get
in the team's way.
Capisce?
Well, kid. I believe
you got some moves
you've been itching
to bust out.
Announcer: Ace Mania is
sweeping the consortium.
The eenie, weeny preteen-y
bopper is winning the hearts
and loins of ladies
across the land
who dig his innocence
and overly sexualized image.
Check his signature groove,
the Amble Scramble.
Ace-tastic, baby ♪
Ace ♪
♪♪
Ace, Ace Am-believer ♪
Ace-tastic, baby ♪
Ace ♪
Ace, Ace Am-believer ♪
Wow, ace-tastic, baby ♪
♪♪
He's so pure.
I will corrupt us both.
He reminds me
of the youth I wasted
chasing unobtainable
superstars.
I'm young again.
Yeah, we totally dated.
Why didn't I know a good fad
when I saw one?
[Cries]
Announcer: Babes and the bucks
are rolling in,
thanks to super manager
Milky Van Montebag.
Mr. Milky, sir,
I'm the superstar here.
Aren't I owed my due?
Of course
your hairdo, that is.
Now, get them,
superstar.
[Circus music plays]
[Elephant trumpets]
You've been skipping practice
for a week, runt.
You better be
up to snuff.
Being more important than you
guys sure does keep me busy.
Thanks for noticing.
I got some thoughts on how
to pound these clowns.
Maybe we just
Actually, let's skip
the transformation.
It's best that my face
stays front and center.
What about me,
you glory whore?
You help
with the image.
[Muffled]
What the hell?
Amble Scramble
pelvic ramble.
Announcer: Another win for Ace
and some other guys.
If this keeps up,
the championships
might just be in store.
This one is for every single
one of my Amble fans.
So, we're winning the battle,
but losing the war,
in terms of dignity,
right?
And we'll only
survive it
if the runt has got a shred
of team spirit left.
It's time to gamble with
being
[sighs]
emotionally present.
Hey, we got to
talk, superstar.
This is a private
locker room.
Did you bribe
my security guard?
Well, that would've
been easier
than breaking his legs,
but live and learn, eh?
Just schedule an appointment
with Milky
if you want
some image consulting.
I'll charge you
a friend rate.
Eh, kid, I never thought
I'd say this,
but you're
reminding me of me
and not the "titillating yet
disarming sexual magnetism" me.
You know I'm a burnout,
but you don't know how many
bridges I burnt along the way.
I had another life
before the game.
My civilian name is actually
Gazmerelda Digzfield, as in
As in the mega-rich Digzfield
Lunar Drilling Corporation?
As in mega-rich asshole.
Yes. I'm the
estranged daughter
of the gajillionaire Moon-mining
tycoon Rupert T. Digzfield IV.
You see, I first started
playing the game
to stick it to my snobbish
high-society family
especially my ruthless
overbearing old man.
And becoming an athlete was
unbefitting to his future heir.
I wanted my own say,
and to have fun saying it,
so I made the game
my new life.
I worked hard, and I got good
I mean, really good
the best young player
of a generation, they said.
I earned it by myself, without
the family name of fortune.
That sense of pride,
it was better than money,
better than winning.
I belong.
That's why I love the game.
But fame is a tricky thing.
Leeches like Milky were always
trying to get a piece.
They'll steer you down
the wrong path to get it.
I got cocky.
I lost my way.
Eventually, I was
trying anything
just to feel
something again.
Didn't work out so well,
which is basically
how I became school mom
to you lot of lovable losers.
Now, I got a chance
we got a chance
to really belong again,
if we stick together.
Don't make
the same mistake I did,
and lose sight of why
the game really matters, Ace.
Oh. I get it.
I always looked up to you,
but now I'm on top,
and you can't handle it.
You might have burnt out,
but my light is shining strong.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I'm storming out
of my private locker room
to demand another one.
[Sighs]
Well, so much for my nurturing
advice and raw vulnerability.
Looks like I'm gonna
have to straighten out
this little runt
the old-fashioned way.
I called you to the Leptons'
official war room because,
A, we got a problem
with Ace, and B,
it turns out we had a war room
all along, but never used it.
How do we bust him back down
to the selfless little sprite
we all know,
and love to exploit?
We'll get our pride
and our Ace back
if we destroy
that mooching Milky first.
Every asshole leaves
a trail of turds.
We follow this one, it'll lead
to something that really stinks.
And we'll make Ace
take a huge whiff.
Come on, guys.
I'm a mobile hot spot
of burning rage.
♪♪
♪♪
My superstardom
it's built on something this
potentially harmful
to my image?
Damn. I expected
some money laundering,
and maybe some weird sex stuff,
but this is textbook evil.
[Yells]
Lulu is right.
We can't simply
cut ties with Milky.
We've got to
cut him to pieces.
I'm down to slam
this scammer.
We all in?
Come on.
Where's the whip-harder button?
What the?
Milky, this isn't the way
of an Ace Am-believer.
You're fired!
You're welcome to recommend
a replacement.
♪♪
♪♪
♪♪
The widening gulf
between the rich
and the permanent underclass
has yielded
its tragic logical endgame
of late-stage capitalism,
forcing me to re-evaluate
my own commitment
to the toxic
performative workaholism,
and sickening my stomach.
Yet, I stoically retain
the preternatural ability
to unleash my ultimate attack
the fruit of my purely voluntary
and justly compensated
sacrifice Umbilicus.
♪♪
♪♪
Easy on the merch, guys.
Both: Shackle-shattering jump-spiring
ultimate payback attack.
♪♪
Ace-tastic, baby.
So, you ready to admit Ace-mania
did more harm than good?
I was naive to think
it could be managed
by a single
valuable person.
Ace-mania is
an unmanageable phenomenon
spanning the universe.
All: Ugh.
"Ballmastrz" ♪
"Ballmastrz" ♪
"Ballmastrz"? ♪
"Ballmast " ♪