The Venture Bros (2003) s04e09 Episode Script

The Diving Bell vs. The Butter-Glider

How is he?! He's awake, I think.
Pop, can you hear me? Blink if you can.
Ora wink is good.
Is he conscious? - Half.
Half? He's semi-conscious? No.
Half of him is conscious.
Here they come again! Aah! Aah! Eat it! Eat it! They're getting away! Not on my watch.
Bring her in close and hit them with both barrels.
Damn it! I hate those creepy little bastards! Hank! Incoming! Aim low! I'm out of gun food! Hey! Come on! Whoa! Not him! T-This guy! Ohh! We have visual confirmation.
Shall we continue pursuit on foot? Negative.
Fall back, pupa twins.
That's a Catholic hospital -- hallowed ground.
Damn.
Aw, this guy! Why, I ought to You want some of this? Huh? N-No thanks.
I don't think I can eat.
Ugh.
I know.
He looks awful.
He's lost so much weight.
He looks like a gorilla suit with nobody in it -- wearing David Byrne's "Stop Making Sense" suit.
Did you even know he was sick? No.
Nobody told me.
Ugh.
Well, "there but for the grace of God" -- none of us are getting any younger.
Yeah, well, one of us ain't getting much older,either.
And this one is from Hey, the Monarch! Hey! Thanks, roomie! Hey, babe, looks like the henchmen are back.
We got to go debrief them.
Huh? Oh.
U-Uh Just start without me, okay? Are you okay? Y-You don't want to hear how Yeah, yeah.
I-I'll be in later.
All right.
I remember my first solo command.
Nobody told me.
I-It's better this way, Dean.
Your pop was suffering, and t-there just wasn't any more they could do for him.
They could have tried, darn it! I know.
I know.
But he didn't have any insurance, and, well they wouldn't accept my Diners Club.
So you got to be strong for him now.
You got to buck up and be that super-scientist he'd want you to be.
Okay.
I'll -- I'll try.
Good boy.
Okay, Hank! Hit it! We got one! Geez, you got to do that? I'm right here.
White, we're needed! Let's roll.
Conjectu-cycle nav-computer estimates arrival at Venture Compound in t-minus two minutes.
Prepare for separation.
We are go for separation.
Separation in three, two, one.
Conjectu-cycle com-link systems test.
Do you copy, white leader? Copy that, blue leader.
Over.
This is the best Over.
That's a big 10-4.
Over.
Approaching Venture Compound.
Prepare for Conjectu-Cycle module reintegration rendezvous.
Conjectu-one ready for rendezvous.
Conjectu-two ready for rendezvous.
Rendezvous in three twoone Rendezvous successful.
Conjectu-cycle reintegration complete.
Prepare for emergency separation.
Separate! Okay, okay, okay.
One at a time.
Please.
Pistolé! Pistolé.
We are getting hammered out there! Sergeant Hatred does not share Brock's aversion to firearms, and now even their robot's packing heat! We need body armor.
Well, what's that you're wearing? I had to buy this myself online! I'm out-of-pocket an at-at walker, two greedos, and a landspeeder.
And not everyone here has "Star Wars" duplicates to sell on eBay.
Half these guys weren't even born when "Empire" came out, and the rest are barely making minimum wage! You guys get paid? And another thing -- retractable wings.
I mean, t-this is ridiculous! These things are just big, clumsy, orange "kill me" signs on the battlefield.
And it's not like it's any better when we get back here.
Every doorway in this cocoon is tapered at the arch.
Well, we're not changing any doors, but we'll take the wing thing under consideration.
I have a better solution.
And I've brought some visual aids.
Big screen! Gentlemen, and lady, I give you the henchman of the future.
The mighty Monarch Mark-V hench-suit.
Made of flexible poly-alloy, they are lightweight, fireproof, and bulletproof.
In keeping with our insect theme, the turbo-hydraulic exoskeleton increases the wearer's strength and agility tenfold.
But it's not all about defense.
The Mark-V also boasts an impressive array of offensive weapons, including grappling spears, gas-propelled rockets, and 25-millimeter heat-seeking, fire-and-forget missiles all controlled via heads-up display built right into the state-of-the-art helmet.
Which reminds me -- people, I'm told you're using too much bandwidth, so if you're not using the internet for -- Whoa! Whoa! Hey, hey! Wait a minute! What about my mighty Monarch Mark-V hench-suit? Oh, come on, 21.
If half that stuff even exists yet, it would cost a fortune.
Well then, why don't you send us out to rob a bank or ransom the moon or something?! Aren't you guys supposed to be supervillains? We have a more specialized practice.
Look, w-we just can't afford it right now, okay? Check out what I just bought! What the hell is that? My new butter-glider -- the cutting edge in insect-themed personal conveyance.
It cost a mint, but look at the hotness! Oh, this is ridiculous! Unbelievable! Why does it smell like french fries? Biodiesel.
She's a lean, green murder machine! Oh, uh, where are they going? They're pissed because I just got done explaining why we can't afford to buy them better equipment, and you come riding in on that thing.
Honey, they're henchmen.
You don't explain to them.
They do your bidding.
When you say "jump," they say, "what shark?" You got to be more ruthless.
The Monarch's guys did this to him? No, no, no.
They didn't lay a glove on him, thanks to yours truly.
And ours truly.
That's from the M.
R.
I.
they gave him down at St.
Sebastian's.
Guess old Doc had a couple pieces of metal in his body I didn't know about when I signed the consent form and, uh, well, he just went all kinds of jiffy pop inside that thing.
Hey, uh, isn't this right about where you put those pins in when you reattached his arm? Okay, come on, people.
Differential diagnosis.
What causes partial paralysis in a terrifically unhealthy super-scientist Rusty's age? Stroke is the most likely culprit, but let's try to think outside the box here.
He's hooked on "House.
" We both are.
Well, the x-rays showed no sign of spinal injury, and the blood work ruled out snake bite, lyme disease, and red-tide shellfish poisoning, as well as -- I'm sorry on this one, Dean -- lazy face.
Well, it's still just a theory.
How about gum? As every schoolboy knows, it's undeniable medical fact that a piece of gum takes I'm guessing little Rusty here was a swallower back in the day and those chiclets are finally coming home to roost.
D-Don't write that.
Hey, uh, don't you have one of them fancy machines that can just look inside him, you know, like, uh, with computers? You mean an M.
R.
I.
? - Oh.
- But he's right.
We need to see inside Rusty's brain, and to do that, you know what we need? An aeronaut! And an armored bear! A submarine! Also good.
And we've got one -- the X-3.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
What are you -- oh, geez! No! Come on.
Not that old cliché.
Cliché nothing! It is a classic! "Innerspace" is not a classic.
That's, like, a great film! Then why don't they make it on DVD, huh, fella? They totally do! And whatever -- I was talking about "Fantastic Voyage" anyway.
On your metal wings, astride with your glistening extra parts, you glide it's just you and I up here Santa got it wrong with his eight reindeer I'm butter-gliding No more hiding things that are wonderful I'm butter-crying to be heard over petty jealousy let's make love butter-glider let's find a way to grind and all our hot butter-babies will fly to the moon The hell's he need a submarine up here in the mountains for, anyway, huh? I mean, seriously.
Well, we had an X-3.
That figures.
Yeah, Rusty probably sold it.
Friggin' Rusty! Where are we supposed to find another submarine? All right, keep it moving.
Who wants fresh cockles? No way! A thousand times no! I am not letting those clowns shrink my $40 million, secretly-funded nuclear submarine to go fight the fucking cavity creeps! Then when our daddy dies, are you guys prepared to adopt us? No, but I'd consider an extremely late-term abortion! Samson, what part of "secret underground headquarters" does that square head of yours fail to grok? Look, they live next door.
What am I supposed to do? Wipe their pink, little minds and send them back home like I told you.
They discover us every other week.
I can't keep doing that.
It's starting to make them buggy.
Look at this.
Dean, what day is today? Sagittarius.
Good.
Now, Hank, what color is my tongue? Umit's kind of Wednesday -- like -- like a light Wednesday? All right, fine! Then you lead the mission.
Hey, now, wait just a minute there, hot-stepper! I 'm leading this mission! Nuh-unh, tubs.
Sphinx sub, Sphinx mission.
That's how it's gonna be.
- Cool! Aw, you're doing it again! Tired of you always "Brock-blocking" me, Samson! I'm head of security! I'm the new sheriff of Venture town! I wear the watch now! That's my band.
That's my watch band.
Yeah, well finders keepers! Should have thought of that before you pulled a Palin and adiósed with your new pals to chase pirates.
Those guys were pirates? Aw, admit it.
You chased much cooler pirates around when you were on our team, Brock.
Hank! Listen up.
You're Doc's bodyguard, right? 'Til they pry him from my cold, dead, "huggin"" hands! Well, who do you think's gonna guard Doc's body while we're inside it? M-me? Of course! This whole mission depends on you, Sergeant.
Our lives are all in those "huggin"" hands.
Well, then what are we waiting for?! Let's get this mission started right! Billy! Travel-size 'em! Huh.
Well, that was easy.
Uh, butterfingers! It's Operation -- the wacky doctor's game! All right, boys.
That stopped being funny about 20 minutes ago.
It'll -- it'll come around again if we keep doing it.
Take out his spare ribs for $100.
Oh, you'll never do that! I said knock it off already! Don't touch the sides! Uh there goes his funny bone! Oh, don't you start now.
All right, looking good so far, fellas.
You're, uh, coming up on the circle of Willis.
You're gonna want to bear right and then take it all the way around till you hit the turn-off to the basilar artery.
What, are you thinking stroke? Five bucks says it's a brain tumor.
Oh, you're on! What about you? You want in on this? Easy money -- White's a sucker.
I don't gamble.
Not with Doc's life, anyway, or, uh, since they threw me out of Mohegan Sun.
Um, hello?! Sonar's lighting up like Tony Manero's gonna dance all over it.
We got something big up ahead.
What could it be? Are we gonna find another new uncle? Get that light on it.
Ew! Looks like a big piece of -- Gum! See? What did I tell you? That's not gum.
It's an embolism.
It's a gigantic blood clot, which means somebody owes me five bucks.
Tumor.
So, uh, you want to tell us what we're doing now? Ow! Motherfucker! - What? What the hell is that thing doing in our bed?! Get it out of there! Don't you fucking touch her! Whoa! What's the matter with you? You're just jealous! That's what's going on here! You -- you never supported me and butter-glider! Ever! Okay, wow! I wrote this off as some kind of midlife-crisis kind of thing, but this -- this is they don't even have a name for what this is.
Why do you have to put a label on everything, huh?! Why can't you just let me have this?! Fine! You can -- you can have y-y-our ridiculous fucking butter-glider! She didn't mean that.
H-Hey, Brock.
Check it out.
What the? Billy, what's supposed to be inside this thing? Inside of what? I-It's a clot.
It's made out of clot.
Yeah, well, there's something inside it -- something hard.
And tumor! Pay up! Oh, my glory! Pop is a robot -- built by Grandpa Jonas.
I always had my suspicions.
U-Um, uh, Brock? Holy shit, so that's what happened to the sevens.
What? Sheila, you can do this.
Vodka tonic for the lady.
Uh, what? I-I didn't order anything.
What's going on? I didn't order her a drink.
No, but I did.
Why -- wait, that's impossible.
No one can see you but me.
Fuck, I am losing my mind.
You should go talk to her.
No! She all but openly mocked my body-armor idea.
That's because it was retarded.
You're the one who told me to pitch it! Yeah, I also told you to find my real killers.
How's that going, O.
J.
? Look, just talk to her.
You two need each other.
- No.
- Too late.
How'd you know what I drink? It's a good henchman's job to know everything about their primary -- birthday, favorite drink Can I return the favor? What's your poison? Protein shake.
I try to stay fit.
I've noticed.
Oh, my god! She is so hitting on you! - Shush! - Hmm? Oh, nothing.
So, uh, what are you doing here? I needed to get away from the Monarch for awhile.
Here it comes.
And I have a little proposition for you.
She's gonna ask you to sleep with her to make him jealous.
Shush! He's gone absolutely crazy over that stupid butter-glider of his.
The only other thing I've ever seen him get even close to that obsessed about is Dr.
Venture.
So I'll make you a deal.
I smell a threesome.
- I'm listening.
- You go get Dr.
Venture for me, and I'll look into getting you that body armor and those retractable wings you wanted.
Huh.
That's a pretty sweet deal, but I'm gonna have a hell of a time selling it to these guys after today.
Some of them are even talking about going on strike.
Well, maybe they should.
We did it! He's going back to normal! High five! Yo! Intruder on the grounds! Eh, probably just one of those Sphinx clowns forgot his keys again.
Yeah.
I'll check it out.
I-I still don't understand why anyone would want to steal our clothes, shrink themselves, and drive a submarine into pop.
It just doesn't make sense.
Yeah, a-and where were we while all this was going on, huh? Look, enough with the questions already.
That's exactly what happened, okay? Oh, for the love of -- they left the parking brake on.
All right, Billy, we're back in business.
Great.
You're gonna want to follow Shoreleave and start heading up to Doc's tear ducts for extraction.
I'll walk you through it.
Race you, Brock of ages! Ooh, can I drive? Yeah, I don't think that's such a good idea.
Boy, for a covert splinter operation, you Sphinx guys sure aren't very discreet.
Huh? Ah.
Sorry to disappoint you fellas, but you ain't gonna be doing any arching tonight.
Yeah, we got what you might call a, uh, medical emergency on our hands here and, well, the Monarch knows it's against Guild rules.
Yeah, that might be a problem.
Well, I should say so -- If we worked for the Monarch.
You see, we're what you might call "on strike," so no Monarch, no Guild.
No Guild, no Guild rules.
They've gone rogue! Code red! Code red! Rogue henchmen on the grounds! What's going on there, fella? I might be having a heart attack! I am overweight, over 50, and I am speedballing tranq darts and pure adrenaline! Okay.
You should maybe put the gun down.
I-I don't know.
He just went off half-cocked.
H-He threatened to quit and everything -- said, "if the Monarch isn't man enough to kill Dr.
Venture once and for all, I am.
Ven-- d-did you just sayV-Venture? I-I'm just quoting 21.
My enemy? My arch-enemy?! Maybe you and your butter-glider should talk some sense into him? You got to be ruthless.
We have been compromised! Into the panic room! Now! Now! Now! Now! Now! I think you dropped something.
Mayday! Mayday! Billy! What the hell's going on up there?! Panic room! - No! - Yes! Yes! Stop it now! You freak, they're still in there! You'll kill them! What is your primary objective, soldier?! Sir, to protect the body at all costs even unto death, sir! Oh, uh, you're not Hank and Dean.
Who the hell are you? Uh due to a medical emergency, the parts of Hank and Dean will be played by Billy Quizboy and Pete White this evening.
Pete White? Didn't you go to State? Uhy-yeah.
Y-Y-You had that radio show, "The White Zone," "White Noise," something? - "The White Room.
" - "White Room!" right! Yeah, yeah.
No, I used to listen to you.
Oh, well, I'm flattered.
God.
Small world, huh? Small, funny, little world.
Anyway! Rise and shine, Venture! I want you to be awake for this.
Can't stabilize her! Boys! Brace yourselves! We're gonna crash! Oh! Ow! Heh.
So, you got a little fight in you after all, huh, Venture? Well, what do you say we step outside? Come on! Aah! Aah! I don't know, man.
You're the neurosurgeon.
You tell me.
Well, can you describe what you see? Everything's all Wednesday in here.
Pink.
He means pink.
Oh, yeah, that narrows it down.
Uh, it's kind of narrow a-and tubular and soft looking, like a lily, b-but it's all streaky, too -- like meat.
It's exactly like a meat lily.
Over.
Okay, I got them.
They're in they're in his prostate.
So how do we get them out? You got to be kidding me.

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