Love, Death & Robots (2019) s03e07 Episode Script
Mason's Rats
1
[opening theme music playing.]
[electronic warbling.]
[bagpipe music playing.]
[vehicle whirring.]
[chickens clucking.]
[liquid pouring.]
- [rats squeaking.]
- [man groaning.]
I see ya, ya twitty wee shite.
[vehicles whirring.]
[man.]
Bloody hell.
[cat screeches.]
- [cat scurrying.]
- Hey! - [hissing.]
- [gun firing.]
Take that, ya nasty bastard.
[ominous music playing.]
What the fuck is that? [suspenseful music playing.]
[phone beeping.]
Aye, it's Mason.
Do you know a good pest control company? [music fades.]
Yeah.
Mm-hmm.
Yeah.
Oh.
Right.
Well, no need to worry, Mr.
Mason.
Traptech can solve your little rat problem.
Little? It's an armed rat fucking rebellion, is what it is.
- [chuckling.]
Well, no.
- [cat purring.]
We're seeing quite a lot of this lately, Mr.
Mason.
Evolution, you see.
Humanity is warping the environment, forcing the animal kingdom to adapt, et cetera, et cetera.
A certain level of tool use is nothing to worry about.
Aye, aye.
Less Darwinian theory, more rodent-killing hardware.
- Allow me to introduce the TT6.
- [dramatic music playing.]
A fixed-position, guided pulse laser with sensors that can zero a woodlouse at a kilometer.
The very latest in Traptech-nology.
With just four of these killing machines in each barn, and you really can "Fire and Forget.
" [sighing heavily.]
How much? Do I really need all this shite? Is this not a bit fucking overkill? Well, you can't be too careful when it comes to pest control, Mr.
Mason.
- And Barn One systems are online.
- [electronic trilling.]
[electronic warbling.]
Oh! We've got a kill already.
[chuckling.]
How about that? Look at that.
[cat meowing.]
Ah, yes.
We do advise that you keep other animals clear of the kill zone.
- Her name was Susan.
- [melancholy music playing.]
[voice breaking.]
And I'll be expecting a discount for that.
[thudding.]
[guns zapping.]
[dramatic music playing.]
[Mason chuckling.]
[guns zapping.]
- [gun zapping continues.]
- [Mason chuckling.]
Fire and forget.
[alarm blaring.]
[electronic buzzing.]
[Mason.]
Hmm? What the fuck? You clever little bastard.
[music fades.]
Hmm.
I was worried this might happen.
Well, Mr.
Mason, there's only one thing for it.
We're gonna have to go mobile.
The all new TT-15 with gas-cooled auto-cannon, armored chassis, and the same targeting tech that navy drones carry.
Now that is what I call tool use.
[sighing heavily.]
How much? [man.]
Right, well, we've recovered four of the TT6s, but it says here you had five.
Ah, well, fucking rats trashed them.
[sighing.]
I'm afraid I'll still have to report them missing.
[man.]
Good luck with that TT-15! [Mason straining.]
[grunting, groaning.]
[clattering.]
[electronic warbling.]
[ominous music playing.]
Bloody hell.
[TT-15 trilling.]
Fuck.
[guns firing.]
[Mason.]
Oh, um, thank you.
Carry on.
Good boy.
[dramatic music playing.]
[yawning.]
Bloody hell.
Welcome to the ratpocalypse.
[guns firing.]
- [suspenseful music playing.]
- [rat yelping.]
[rats screaming.]
[squelching.]
[rat moaning.]
[rat screaming.]
Christ on a bike.
[guns firing.]
[guns zapping.]
Ah, fucking Fuck.
[intense music playing.]
[rats squeaking.]
[guns zapping.]
[rat yelling.]
[rat yelling.]
[guns zapping.]
[rats yelling.]
[guns zapping.]
[rat screaming.]
[music reaches crescendo.]
[music stops.]
[clattering.]
[sizzling.]
[somber music playing.]
[Mason.]
Christ.
Like World War fucking IV.
[TT-15 trilling.]
[suspenseful music playing.]
[heart beating.]
[suspenseful music swelling.]
[gun firing.]
[electronic warbling.]
Take that, you nasty bastard.
[rats squeaking.]
[uplifting music playing.]
[handle squeaking.]
[rat squeaking.]
I salute your courage, sir.
- [rat squeaking.]
- [slurping.]
[coughing.]
Ugh.
[coughing.]
Bloody hell.
[hoarsely.]
That's good.
So good.
[rats squeaking.]
[dramatic bagpipe music playing.]
[phone beeping.]
[Mason.]
Customer service, please.
Hello, this is Mason.
[chuckling.]
Aye, that's right.
That one.
Yeah.
I just need to cancel a check.
[chuckling.]
[music fades.]
[electronic warbling.]
[closing theme music playing.]
[music fades.]
[electronic warbling.]
[bagpipe music playing.]
[vehicle whirring.]
[chickens clucking.]
[liquid pouring.]
- [rats squeaking.]
- [man groaning.]
I see ya, ya twitty wee shite.
[vehicles whirring.]
[man.]
Bloody hell.
[cat screeches.]
- [cat scurrying.]
- Hey! - [hissing.]
- [gun firing.]
Take that, ya nasty bastard.
[ominous music playing.]
What the fuck is that? [suspenseful music playing.]
[phone beeping.]
Aye, it's Mason.
Do you know a good pest control company? [music fades.]
Yeah.
Mm-hmm.
Yeah.
Oh.
Right.
Well, no need to worry, Mr.
Mason.
Traptech can solve your little rat problem.
Little? It's an armed rat fucking rebellion, is what it is.
- [chuckling.]
Well, no.
- [cat purring.]
We're seeing quite a lot of this lately, Mr.
Mason.
Evolution, you see.
Humanity is warping the environment, forcing the animal kingdom to adapt, et cetera, et cetera.
A certain level of tool use is nothing to worry about.
Aye, aye.
Less Darwinian theory, more rodent-killing hardware.
- Allow me to introduce the TT6.
- [dramatic music playing.]
A fixed-position, guided pulse laser with sensors that can zero a woodlouse at a kilometer.
The very latest in Traptech-nology.
With just four of these killing machines in each barn, and you really can "Fire and Forget.
" [sighing heavily.]
How much? Do I really need all this shite? Is this not a bit fucking overkill? Well, you can't be too careful when it comes to pest control, Mr.
Mason.
- And Barn One systems are online.
- [electronic trilling.]
[electronic warbling.]
Oh! We've got a kill already.
[chuckling.]
How about that? Look at that.
[cat meowing.]
Ah, yes.
We do advise that you keep other animals clear of the kill zone.
- Her name was Susan.
- [melancholy music playing.]
[voice breaking.]
And I'll be expecting a discount for that.
[thudding.]
[guns zapping.]
[dramatic music playing.]
[Mason chuckling.]
[guns zapping.]
- [gun zapping continues.]
- [Mason chuckling.]
Fire and forget.
[alarm blaring.]
[electronic buzzing.]
[Mason.]
Hmm? What the fuck? You clever little bastard.
[music fades.]
Hmm.
I was worried this might happen.
Well, Mr.
Mason, there's only one thing for it.
We're gonna have to go mobile.
The all new TT-15 with gas-cooled auto-cannon, armored chassis, and the same targeting tech that navy drones carry.
Now that is what I call tool use.
[sighing heavily.]
How much? [man.]
Right, well, we've recovered four of the TT6s, but it says here you had five.
Ah, well, fucking rats trashed them.
[sighing.]
I'm afraid I'll still have to report them missing.
[man.]
Good luck with that TT-15! [Mason straining.]
[grunting, groaning.]
[clattering.]
[electronic warbling.]
[ominous music playing.]
Bloody hell.
[TT-15 trilling.]
Fuck.
[guns firing.]
[Mason.]
Oh, um, thank you.
Carry on.
Good boy.
[dramatic music playing.]
[yawning.]
Bloody hell.
Welcome to the ratpocalypse.
[guns firing.]
- [suspenseful music playing.]
- [rat yelping.]
[rats screaming.]
[squelching.]
[rat moaning.]
[rat screaming.]
Christ on a bike.
[guns firing.]
[guns zapping.]
Ah, fucking Fuck.
[intense music playing.]
[rats squeaking.]
[guns zapping.]
[rat yelling.]
[rat yelling.]
[guns zapping.]
[rats yelling.]
[guns zapping.]
[rat screaming.]
[music reaches crescendo.]
[music stops.]
[clattering.]
[sizzling.]
[somber music playing.]
[Mason.]
Christ.
Like World War fucking IV.
[TT-15 trilling.]
[suspenseful music playing.]
[heart beating.]
[suspenseful music swelling.]
[gun firing.]
[electronic warbling.]
Take that, you nasty bastard.
[rats squeaking.]
[uplifting music playing.]
[handle squeaking.]
[rat squeaking.]
I salute your courage, sir.
- [rat squeaking.]
- [slurping.]
[coughing.]
Ugh.
[coughing.]
Bloody hell.
[hoarsely.]
That's good.
So good.
[rats squeaking.]
[dramatic bagpipe music playing.]
[phone beeping.]
[Mason.]
Customer service, please.
Hello, this is Mason.
[chuckling.]
Aye, that's right.
That one.
Yeah.
I just need to cancel a check.
[chuckling.]
[music fades.]
[electronic warbling.]
[closing theme music playing.]
[music fades.]