All language subtitles for MacGyver.2016.S01E03BB

In my line of work,
no one expects to live forever.

I know I'm not exactly
a "safety first" kind of guy,

but I thought I'd
at least make it to 30.

Fistfight with
Vladimir Putin in space,

read the rest
of the Harry Potter books,

sing with Willie Nelson...

Jack, what the hell
are you talking about?!

It's my bucket list, Mac.

You know, what's not
on that list?

Hanging out in a burning
building that you set on fire!

Okay, admittedly,
not my best plan.

But it did get the Somali
warlords off of our tail.

Fighting Putin in space?

Like, how would that
even happen?

I don't know, Riley.
Life's full of surprises.

How's our exit strategy coming?

Just hacked a Somali
government database

and downloaded the blueprints.

There's a stairwell
on your right in 300 feet.

Well, did Thornton get
the coordinates we sent?

I did, indeed.
We're targeting a drone strike.

General Dalmar's
chemical weapons factory

should be history
in three, two, one.

♪ I heard somebody say
burn, baby, burn... ♪

Mission accomplished.

Come on home, boys.

Whoa. No, no, no,
no, no, no!

♪ Burn, baby, burn ♪

♪ Disco inferno ♪

♪ Burn, baby, burn,
Burn that mother down... ♪

Riley, I don't suppose there's
another staircase we can use.

Uh, no.
What's wrong with that one?

It'd probably be quicker to tell
you what's not wrong with it.

Okay, there's a window
about 50 feet

down the hall on your left.

But there is one catch.

♪ Burn, baby, burn,
burn the mother down... ♪

That's a pretty big catch.

Unless you can find
about 50 more of those,

we still got a pretty
major problem here.

Relax. The only thing
on my bucket list

is getting out
of this building alive.

Would you get that window
for me, please.

So maybe
I'm an extreme example,

but my grandfather
always used to say that

none of us really knows
how long we have left.

So I guess we have
to ask ourselves:

Will I just go gently
into that good night

or am I willing to risk it all
on a leap of faith?

Any last words?

Now!

Hey, Mac.

Yeah?

I think I can cross pooping
my pants off my bucket list.

Whew.

♪ California's been
good to me ♪

♪ Hope it don't fall
into the sea ♪

♪ Sometimes you got to
trust yourself ♪

♪ It ain't like
anywhere else... ♪

Home, sweet Hollywood.

After another brush
with death,

it's always great
to come back to L.A.,

where everything
is nice, normal--

and what the hell?

Mac! Perfect timing.

Hey, Bozer,
what are you doing?

It's for my movie.

Yeah. Come here.

Turn around.

Is it about
ping-pong balls now?

What? No. It's for the CGI.

Wait, what CGI?

For the space monster.

There's a space monster?

Of course
there's a space monster.

Did you not read the rewrite?

17th draft, man.
Try to keep up.

You're playing
the monster.

Wait, I thought I was
playing the general.

You're both. Now, in this scene,
you, the monster,

have just eaten the brains
of you, the general.

So now you, the monster, have...

Wait. Bozer,
if this is all CGI,

why can't you be
the monster?

But who would direct me?

Not thinking, Mac.

Use that brain, man.

Eh. Well, if Affleck
can do it, so can you.

Sorry, work.
Take that.

Fine.

Go talk science
with your think tank buddies

and leave me here
without a monster.

Shoot.

Monster.

No one cares.

You should have seen it, Pop.

The whole building is on fire,

and we jump out, ass-backwards,
with these air bag things.

We were... we were fearless.

I'm not gonna lie to you.

The kid was fearless,
I was scared as hell,

but... I ain't gonna
let him know it,

you know what I mean?

- Hey.
- Hey.

How's your dad?

Why don't you go ahead
and ask him yourself.

He's listening.

Hi, Mr. Dalton.

How's... life?

Sorry, Pop, he didn't mean
to be rude, he's just weird.

Poor thing, he's a genius
when it comes to physics,

but when it comes
to metaphysics,

he's a little slow.

Every time we get
nearly killed,

you come down here
to talk to your dead dad,

and I'm the weird one?

Hey, it's little
rituals like this

that give life meaning.

Besides, there's not
a lot of people out there

you can talk to
about classified missions,

and my old man
can keep a secret.

Can't you, Pop?

Well, ready to go get
almost killed again?

Emphasis on "almost."

I'm gonna bring him back
in one piece, all right?

Yeah, all right.

Time to go do that work, Pop.

I'll see you soon.

I love you, boy.

So you, uh... you been
talking to your dad lately?

Eh, it's been a while.

Okay, it's been
a long while.

Well, that's long enough.

I mean, after what he did,

you're gonna want
to fix that, trust me.

I will, someday.

That's what I used to say till
I almost ran out of somedays.

Just give the man a call
before it's too late.

- All right?
- It's just not that easy.

Yeah, well, it ain't
that hard, neither. Listen.

If I could have one more day

to sit and talk to my dad
instead of that hunk of rock,

I'd do anything.

Anything.

This thing with your dad's
different.

I'm not saying
you should forget,

but maybe it's time you
forgive just a little bit.

You know?

All right, let's get to work.

Over the past two years,

five federal buildings
in the U.S. have been attacked,

killing 28 people
and wounding hundreds more.

Explosives analysis
from the most recent attack

links these incidents
to a group called

Division 77.

D-77?

Heard stories
about them in prison.

They're like mercenaries
or something, right?

Terrorists for hire.
Ex-insurgents and extremists

who traded in their politics
for cold hard cash.

They're highly trained
and very careful.

Every member hidden
by multiple false identities.

Every expense paid for
by shell corporations.

- So how do we find these guys?
- We don't.

Not directly.

But by digging into
their shell corps,

the FBI followed
D-77's money,

and it all leads back
to one man.

Hedge fund golden boy
Ralph Kastrati.

Oh, that is a punchface.

Excuse me?

Oh, you heard me.

Some dudes,
they just have this face

that really needs
to be punched.

My mom dated a guy
like that once.

So we don't know
how to find them,

but we do know where Ralph is?

He fled the U.S. in 2015
to avoid trial for 561 counts

of securities fraud.

But he's just been
located hiding out

in the tropical
tax haven

of Labuan, Malaysia,

making millions
managing D-77's money.

If we can combine
the FBI intel

with everything that Ralph
knows about their financials...

We may be able
to track them down

before their next
attack, okay.

Well, shouldn't we just let
the Malaysian cops pick him up?

We believe D-77
has informants

within the Malaysian
government.

If D-77 hides Ralph
before we can get to him,

we're gonna lose our only
chance to stop them.

So we can't go
the official route.

Which leaves
the unofficial route: us.

Yeah.

Yeah, okay,
I want a piece of that.

Exile?

Are you kidding me, bro?

Even if I wasn't
a wanted man,

I'd still be living
in Labuan, yo.

I'm like God down here.

Nah, bigger than God.

Kanye.

I'm telling
you, you got to come

join me, brah.

Hitting the hottest clubs,
the finest honeys,

making more cheddar
than any of you

hedge fund chumps back home.

"Is it safe?" Listen to you.

Of course it's safe.
I just fired my bodyguards

and pocketed
their salaries, yo.

Trust me,
Uncle Sam don't have a clue

where I am.

I mean, unless being parked
outside your house

watching you
on thermal and visible

and tracking your GPS
counts as having a clue.

Guy's place looks like
a Kardashian exploded.

Straight cheese.

Secret system?

What are you talking
about, man?

Oh...

Oh, I want to punch this guy
in the face so bad.

Well, I want that for you,
too, buddy,

but the trick's to do it without
tipping off the local police,

which could tip off D-77.

Take a look.

Huh.

Ralph may be too arrogant
to pay for bodyguards,

but his security system
is state-of-the-art.

It's on a wireless network, but
with this kind of encryption,

it could take days
to break in.

Which is time we don't have.

Maybe we don't
have to break in...

if Ralph gives us the code.

Okay, cards on the table,

I'm not great with computers.

While most kids were learning
how to use their first laptop,

I was taking mine apart
to see how it worked.

I never quite figured that out,

but I did learn enough
to know this:

the biggest flaw
in any computer system

is usually the person
controlling it.

So why hack a computer when
you can hack a human being?

Using a handful of Wi-Fi chips

and a soda can
as a directional antenna,

I can disrupt the Wi-Fi signal
to Ralph's alarm keypad.

Wireless signal interrupted.

Which triggers the alarm,

which gets Ralph
to type in his code,

which we can see.

Lonely?

Bro, your mom is lonely.

I'm just trying to get you in

on that sweet Malaysian
transaction action.

Nice.

Now we just have to wait
for him to go to sleep.

I'm brushing my teeth
with caviar and foie gras.

Hey, do I seriously have to
listen to this asshat

for the rest of the day?

Uh, actually, Ralphie times his
sleep to the American markets.

You have to listen
to this asshat all night.

Noise canceling. Beyoncé.

Have fun.

I need to make me
some of those.

I'm gonna knock the curls
off this kid, I'm telling you.

Hello?

Aah!

Aah! Son of a...

Aw, man.

Seriously?

Look, I had to do it,
you know?

I'm just saying, we have clearly
defined roles here, Mac, okay?

Riley does all
the computer stuff,

you do your thing, and I do
the punching, all right?

You don't see me going around
making bombs out of paper clips

and chewing gum,
do you? No.

It frustrates me, man.

I mean...
What?

How much is the government
paying you guys, huh?

I'll triple it and throw in
a rare Wu-Tang album for free.

Look, all we need from you
is intel

on the D-77 terrorists
and their next attack.

Attack? I don't know anything.
I'm just their money man.

Yeah, I'm punching him anyway.

It's coming, fool.

It's coming.

Now, let's get out of here.

You are gonna tell us
how to find D-77 right now.

Bro, I told you,

I just handle the money,
all right?

I know account numbers,
balances,

not where they are
or what they're planning.

But, hey, you guys like boats?

I can get you two brand-new,
murdered out...

Sniper!

Get down, get down!

Please don't let me die.

Riley, we're taking
sniper fire.

Can you get a visual
on the shooter?

Got him. One dude,

on the roof, big-ass gun.

Looks like D-77 was keeping
an eye on their money man.

It's gonna take months
to sift through this stuff

without Ralph to explain it.

We get him and his intel
to the FBI

before these mercs take
their money and run.

Does a doctor factor into
this plan at all?

Because in case you haven't
noticed, I just got shot!

We're not gonna
make it to you, Riley,

and Ralph isn't gonna make it
home without medical attention.

Find a doctor
and meet us at the exfil.

What are you guys
gonna do, walk?

Nah, we're gonna take his whip.
You ready?

- Yeah.
- No, no!

- Let's go.
- My car's mint, yo!

Diddy's got one just like it.

Is that really what you're
worried about right now?!

Aw, dude!

I have the key!

Go!

Okay, the bullet
hit your lung

and missed your heart;
looks like you got lucky.

You call this lucky, bro?

You have any idea
how hard it is

to get bloodstains
out of calfskin?

Hey, unless you start telling us
everything you know about D-77,

your luck's about to get a lot
worse, I can tell you that much.

I'm a glorified
accountant, bro.

What do you want me
to tell you,

that I put them in
large blend index funds

so they can ensure
steady growth?

Jack, he's got
a sucking chest wound.

I got to find
a way to seal it.

Where's the duct tape
when you need it, right?

Hey, eyes on the road, Jethro.

This car's worth
more than your house.

Oh, as soon as you're
done saving his life,

I'm gonna kill him.
You hear that, smart-ass?

I'm already dressed
for a funeral.

Guys, satellite picked up
gunfire near Ralph's house.

- Is everything okay?
- Y-Yeah.

Everything's...
everything's fine.

Oh, God,
there's blood everywhere.

That doesn't sound fine.
How's the package?

Ralph? He... he's-he's good.

He just, he got kind of shot.

He what?

Yeah, yeah, no biggie.
Just in the shoulder.

Yeah, but the part
of his shoulder

that's kind of his chest.

Listen, D-77 knows
you have Ralph.

We need to assume they're
moving up their timetable

rather than passing up
a payday.

Now we have even less
time to stop them.

And we don't even know
where they're gonna strike.

I don't feel so good, bro.

Here, take this.

Yeah, uh, hey, hey,
hey, Patti, it's Jack.

We're gonna have to
call you back, okay?

Hey, wallet.

I've seen my share
of life-and-death situations,

and if there's a key to living
through them, it's this:

Don't panic.

If you can force yourself
to take a minute,

breathe and actually think,

the solution is generally
right in front of you.

In this case, literally.

A hole in the lungs
can fill the chest with air,

making it impossible
to breathe.

The trick is to let the air out

while keeping
everything else in.

In hospitals, they use a needle
with a one-way valve.

But in the field,
a driver's license vent seal

does the job nicely.

It's gonna sting a little.

Are you a doctor?

Not even a little.

Oh, God, I'm gonna die.

Hey, Mac,
our patient still alive?

And kicking.

Yo. Do not play
country music on my radio.

It's an affront to everything
this car stands for.

Oh, is that right?

Well, unless you figure out
how to connect D-77's spending

to the location
of their next attack,

it's country music
all the way home, Curly-Q.

I ain't even turned it up yet.

I told you, they draw lump sums
to a Cayman account.

I don't know where it goes
from there, all right?

Any luck finding a doctor?

Tracked down the best doctor
on the island.

Which wasn't easy,
since it's his day off.

Got a lock on his cell signal.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, no.

"Best on the island"
doesn't mean much.

How many Yelp stars
does he have?

Hey, you're gonna be seeing
Yelp stars if you don't shut up.

You shut up.

All right, I'm sending you
a video of Ralph's wound

so the doctor
can take a look.

Sweet. Not at all gross.

Thanks for giving me
absolutely no warning.

Hey, Mac, I think I got him.

Dr. Megat?

Hi. My name is Riley.

Uh, I know this is
gonna sound weird, but...

Uh, guys... we have a problem.

Yeah, so do we.

The sniper's on our tail.
Hang on.

Faster would be good.

I'm flooring it. This car sucks.

Hey, this car's worth
more than your life...

- We know!
- We know!

I don't want to die
listening to country music!

♪ Fill him a jug ♪

♪ And they pass it around ♪

♪ Mighty, mighty pleasin'
my pappy's corn-squeezin' ♪

♪ White lightning ♪

Car! Car!

Oh, my God,
I really am gonna die!

♪ Well, the G men, T men ♪

♪ Revenuers, too ♪

I don't know if your plan
is to make me throw up,

but it's definitely
working.

Like Ralph, a lot of
people spend their lives

focused on the wrong thing.
Normally, it's a bad habit.

But it was exactly
what I needed

the sniper chasing us to do.

You making a bomb? Hmm?

'Cause if you're making a bomb,
that would be awesome.

Wait, shouldn't you...
you be throwing the bomb?

Why aren't you throwing it?

Because it's not a bomb.

The headrest is made
of flame-resistant foam,

so it'll never burn,
but it will smoke like crazy.

Great.

Hey, maybe
we should, uh,

talk about
some short-term goals,

'cause now I think
you're just making it easier

for them to tail us.

♪ My eyes bugged out
and my face turned blue ♪

♪ Lightning started flashing,
Thunder started crashing ♪

♪ White lightning ♪

♪ Well, the G men, T men,
Revenuers too ♪

♪ Searching for a place
where we made this brew ♪

♪ They were lookin'... ♪

Jack, get me closer
to that truck.

Oh, sweet!

♪ G men, T men,
Revenuers too ♪

♪ Searching for a place
where we made this brew ♪

♪ They were lookin',
Tryin' to book him ♪

♪ But my pappy kept a-cookin' ♪

♪ White lightning ♪

Smoked 'em.

- Don't.
- Don't what?

You know how I feel
about your puns.

Oh.
Yeah, yeah. Sorry.

Mac, I'm here with the doctor.

You got to listen to this.

If you don't
act out a bicoastal

breast plumbing procedure,

the sick person will
become not alive.

Now.

Okay. Doc said Ralph
needs surgery now.

Oh, God.

Something's wrong.
Like, really wrong.

Okay, just tell us
where to meet so the doctor...

No, like, now, now, now!

Doc said he's surprised
Ralph hadn't crashed already.

He'll be dead
in about four minutes

unless you do
the surgery now.

Truth told,
I got a "C" in biology.

But we were Ralph's only shot,
and if he was gonna live,

a lot of bacteria
were gonna have to die.

Yo, Ralph?

- He's not looking so good, Mac.
- Get him in the back.

When you can't get your hands
on a surgical suite,

the back of an SUV
and the germ-killing power

of hand sanitizer
will do in a pinch.

But prepping for surgery
was the easy part.

I got you.
That's it, that's it.

- Are you ready?
- Yeah.

Whoa, whoa, wait a minute,
wait a minute. You hear that?

What?

He finally stopped talking.

Let's just...
Let's enjoy that for a second.

Okay.

Well, we are as ready
as we'll ever be.

What do we need to do?

Don't worry. I will walk you

through the procedure,
feet by feet.

Uh, I think that means
"step by step."

Okay, sure.
But that doesn't help us

with the "don't worry" part.

Okay, Doc said Ralph has
something called hemothorax,

which is a buildup of blood
in the chest

that makes it impossible
for him to breathe.

If you don't
drain the fluid,

he'll basically drown
on dry land.

So all you have to do
is perform

an intercostal
chest drain procedure.

In the back of an SUV
with no surgical equipment.

What could go wrong?

Okay, so step one
is pretty easy.

You just need
to make a small incision

between his fourth
and fifth ribs.

Step two is
a little more complicated.

You just need to find a way
to spread his ribs apart.

Can't unsee that. Mm.

And now
the liquid away you must suck.

Don't look at me, man.

I'll suck out snake venom, you
know, depending on where it is,

but I ain't going
anywhere near that.

Seriously.

Hey. Go hit the
windshield wipers for me.

I can do that.

I'm no doctor,

but my grandfather taught me
a thing or two about cars.

The same pump that sprays
wiper fluid on your windshield

should be powerful enough
to pull the fluid

out of Ralph's chest
before he drowns.

Oh.

Gross.

Is that my blood?

Good job, Riley.

Okay, Doc and I are
about two minutes out.

Ralph ready to go?

Close enough.
We're on our way now.

Your hands are
like sandpaper, bro.

Ever try moisturizer?
Get some.

All right,
you carry him.

Hey, yo, yo, yo,
what about my baby?

We can't just
leave it here unlocked.

I'm trying to imagine
how your resale value

could go down any more.

Let me guess, you're gonna
be late to the exfil.

Yeah, but we got
a killer excuse.

I doubt your black ops
exfil squad operating illegally

on foreign soil
will want to hear it.

But let me see what I can do.

How late will you be?

30 minutes, tops.

Make that 35 minutes!
Elevator!

Unless you want to patch up
a lot more bullet holes,

you better come up
with a new plan.

I'm telling you,
these guys aren't gonna stop

till this little
piggy's dead.

Then we're just gonna
have to kill him.

What?!

Well, we're eight floors
away from the mercs

trying to kill us,
and it looks like we're in

some sort of
tax haven law firm.

So we should be able to find

- everything that we need.
- All right.

Maybe this is the blood loss
talking, but I-I could swear

you said you were
planning to kill me.

Right now, I just need you
to focus on D-77.

Is there anything
in their financials

that could tell us the location
of their next attack?

Hey. How are we supposed to
get Sir Bleedsalot past her?

Want me to turn
on the charm?

We don't have time
for the charm.

I'll do the English accent.
Chicks dig that.

You have
a horrible British accent.

All right,
so here's the deal.

I just hacked your servers.

This is proof of all the money

your company illegally hides
for high-ranking

government officials
around the world.

So unless you want this
on the front page

of every news site,
you're gonna go get your boss

and tell her
to bring her checkbook.

Okay.

Let's go.

Just when I was starting
to forget how scary you can be.

I'm still totally gonna
leak that stuff though.

So the doctor didn't have
any syringes in his golf bag.

I'm fine. I'll figure
something out.

- Wait, wait, come on, man.
- You come on, man.

Hey. Yo, yo, yo.

Wh-What about this whole
"you killing me" thing, huh?

Well, Jack is right.

They ain't gonna stop looking
for you till you're dead.

So you need to be dead.
I need a ballpoint pen,

eye drops and dental floss.

Bro, why you need
a ballpoint pen?

Um...

Killing someone

and bringing them
back to life isn't easy,

especially if you're doing it
with office supplies.

But for this to work,
I needed something

a little harder
to get my hands on:

beta blockers,
aka high blood pressure meds.

Lucky for me,
one out of three people

have high blood pressure,

and an executive's
corner office

seemed like a good place
to look.

In 99.9% of
life-and-death situations,

you're gonna want to go
with "life."

But this just wasn't
one of those times.

Yo. It's hard to express
the degree in which

I am not cool
with this.

Live now, complain later.

We got company, Mac-- one of
those shooters from the garage.

Let's go.
Everybody, come on.

Okay, showtime, Mac.
I got your six.

We got your six. Sorry.

Okay, so you're not a doctor,

but you're at least,
like, a scientist, right?

Uh, not really.

- What?
- Relax.

We're not actually
going to kill you.

The drugs in this needle
are just going to drop

your blood pressure enough
so that...

no one can detect your pulse.

Survive like that
for an hour, and then

I'll come in with another shot
and reverse the process.

Okay, let me get this straight.

You shoot that in my arm,

I die out there
surrounded by randos,

the D-77 guys see my dead body
and... bug out.

Then you slip me
the antidote and,

hey, I'm back, baby.
Right?

- Almost.
- Almost?

I'm not gonna shoot it
into your arm.

Injecting it closer to your
heart lets me use a lower dose.

Okay, so you're not a doctor.

You're not a scientist.

How the hell
do you know all this stuff?

I read a lot of books.

And you're ready
with the antidote, right?

Dude, what the hell, man?!

You-you have
the antidote, right?

I mean, I-I will.

Trust me.

Oh...

Now, go die.

Wait. Wait a minute,
wait a minute. Please.

I know I'm annoying
and pretentious

and there's the whole "I managed
money for terrorists" thing,

but don't let me die, okay?

Not yet. I can do better.

I can be better.

Grow the hell up.
Maybe have kids.

Oh, God,
I got to call my mom.

I got to call my mom.
I can't die without...

I haven't talked to my mom
in years, you know?

Hey.
It's gonna be okay.

I promise.

See you on the other side.

Those D-77 guys...

sometimes they'd ask me
to set up a shell corp

in a specific city,
which is weird,

because who cares where a dummy
corporation is based, right?

Anyway, I don't know
if this helps or not,

but last week they had me
set one up in Miami,

Sunset Atlantic Holdings, LLC.

Miami Beach.

Now we know
what D-77's next target is.

Run, quick, quick!

Oh my goodness!

Oh, my God!
He's not breathing!

Somebody call
a doctor!

Looks like your little trick
worked well enough

to fool the EMTs.

Here's to hoping
it didn't work so well

we can't bring him back.

Ah.

Exactly what I need
to bring back the dead.

The doctor give you these?

Oh, hell no.
When I explained your plan,

he said some very rude things
that roughly translated to:

"Screw you guys,
I'm going home."

Had to hack the security system
at a pharmacy to get those.

We sure about bringing him back?

I kind of like him this way.

- Hey, boss.
- Well, it cost me

a case of bourbon
and a pile of hazard pay.

Your exfil team
is still standing by.

And Ralph is still the key
to stopping their next attack.

How's he doing?

Ralph? Uh, yeah, he's fine.

I mean, he's dead,
but he'll get better.

He's what?

I dosed him up with
a bunch of beta blockers

to fake his death
and get D-77 off our tail.

As soon as the local EMTs
put him in the back

of the coroner's van...

Which is my coroner's van now.

...I'll give him a heaping
helping of insulin and glucose,

and, uh,
it'll counteract the drug.

Ralphie gets in the car,
we head to the exfil.

And we should have him
any second.

Whoa, guys,

flag on the play.

Looks like D-77's got the cops

and the M.E.
on their payroll.

Uh-oh.

"Uh-oh"? Wh-What's "uh-oh"?

No, no, he said...
he said, "Go, go,"

like, "We got to go, Patti."
Okay, good talk, bye.

Why are they taking the body?

Proof that he's dead.

And when they find out he's not,

they're gonna kill him.

Mac, uh, we got about ten
minutes left

to give him that shot.

All the shots in the world won't
help if he's missing his head.

We need to move fast.

Whoa, guys. We need a plan.

It's two dudes.

Plan is simple:

We go in there
and we kick their...

Jack. Looks like your two
dudes just became an army.

Okay. Not so simple.

Is that a hacksaw?

If you can handle two,
that leaves about six.

I can probably
take them out.

Okay, one, no, you can't.

Two, "I can probably take them
out" doesn't count as a plan.

Well, sure it is.

First, I'll take two,
then I'll take the other four.

Or I can take them all out.

I like that idea.

Jack, I could use some help.

Yeah, sorting garbage?
I'll pass.

Yeah, that's what
I love about old Jack.

He sees the world through
a different pair of lenses.

Although he's not wrong.

Most people would agree
that I'm knee deep

in a pretty rank
trash container, but not me.

In my mind,
this is a treasure chest

filled with unlimited
possibilities.

You seriously want me
to put this on my face?

Only if you
like breathing.

We may think
we're playing it safe,

but we all spend
most of our lives

surrounded by
some pretty deadly stuff.

The refrigerant
in your air conditioner

can kill you
in under five minutes.

But it will knock you out
in less than two.

What the--

Felt good, didn't it, buddy?!

But I think my left
is getting jealous!

Whoo!

Time's up, Mac.

If you haven't given him
that shot yet,

it might be too late.

Only way to find out.

Why are you still standing?!

Come on, big man!

Jack!

Never mind.

Did it work?

Is he...?

Ralphie. Hey.

Hey, come on, man.

You're too big a pain in the ass
to give up that easy.

Ralph!

Who took my sleep mask?

Wh-Why am I laying
on a dirty floor? Huh?

These pants
are designer, yo.

And I'm covered
in schmutz.

You know, it's weird.

I'm glad he's alive, but...

I still want to kill him.

Yeah, I love you, too,
Jethro.

Congratulations.

Our intel on that
Miami shell corp

led to the arrest
of six D-77 mercenaries

before they could
carry out their attack.

And a full interrogation
of Ralph

should help take down D-77's
whole organization, right?

Actually, it's not
an interrogation anymore.

It's testimony.

Ralph's cooperating completely

and I'm working on having him
placed in Witness Protection.

I'm thinking Vegas,
baby!

Ooh, ooh.
Or Miami, you know,

'cause I saved
that town and all.

Those bikini models are gonna
want to thank me personally.

As we've discussed, you'll be
getting a new identity.

And you won't be able to tell
anybody who you really are

or what you've done.

All right, Jane Bond.
I feel ya.

Fresh start. I could probably
use one of those, right?

Or a whole new personality.

You joke, little hottie,

but after bravely staring
death in the face,

I've decided
to change the game.

I want to use my powers
for good, ya heard?

Gonna invest my millions in
making the world a better place

for the little children...
the future Ralphs.

Well, you know, I hate to break
it to you, but you're broke.

Your millions
are now in evidence,

and you're not gonna
be seeing any of it.

So...

That seems cruel and unusual.

Nah, it's not so bad.

Starting with nothing,
making it up as you go along--

I do it all the time.

Coolio. I'm down.

Might even be good
for my health.

Come on.
Give me some love.

Come on.

Come on.

- Mm-mm.
- Ah?

- Don't.
- Mm-hmm.

Don't.

Thank you, thank you.

Bring it back.

Wha... this?

Oh.

Don't hate.

Everybody needs
a little seed money, yo.

I'll still give you 20 bucks,
you let me hit you in the face.

Are you kidding me?
Keep your money.

This face? It's priceless.

Let's go, big guy.

I gotta got out of here.

- How about 40?
- You don't have $40.

I got an extra 20.

I'll throw in on that.

That was it, man.
That was the take.

I don't want to get
ahead of myself,

but... I see an Oscar.

Do we want to know?

Probably not.

Yo, Riley!

Want to be the first to peep
my badass movie monster

and epic CGI skills?

It's just CG,
computer graphics.

What could the "I"
possibly stand for?

Incredible.
Check it out.

Watch this, watch this.

Okay, wait.
That's not even remotely

how this program
is supposed to work.

Oh, I like it when
a woman takes charge.

Yes, I do.

I was visiting
my dad today,

and he told me to
give you something.

- Oh, yeah?
- Mm-hmm.

Call your father, dude.

Nobody lives forever.

That's never gonna work.

What do you mean?

I'm writing him a letter.

A letter?

That you put
in the mail?

Come on, man. It's 2016.

Not to my dad it isn't.

Hmm.

You just gonna watch?

Not anymore.

They say life is what happens

while you're making
other plans.

And that describes
most of my days pretty well.

But every once in a while,

you have to give life
a little nudge

to make sure you get to do
the things that really matter,

before it's too late.

I don't know if one letter
will change anything,

but I guess...
that's life, isn't it?