Original subtitles

Previously on Mystery Inc...

Hot Dog Water?

The Mystery Inc kids found a piece of the planospheric disc.

Are there other pieces out there?

And if there are, who else is looking for them?

Spanish conquistadors used the planospheric disc

to hide their cargo so it could be found later.

All this for a treasure no one's even sure exists?

I have what I came for.

So now, we know where two of the pieces are.

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Jinkies. That is one crazy witch.

Eagle one, we're in.

Hot Dog Water and I are in front of the Baba Yaga exhibit.

- Entering now. - Who is there?

Show yourselves!

Whoa!

Eagle one, we couldn't get in Baba Yaga's house.

The guard showed up.

Unfortunate. Time for plan "B."

Buy the exhibit and ship it to Crystal Cove.

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com

Did you ask them yet, V.?

Not yet, but I'm going to.

Don't worry, Hot Dog Water.

I think it's a great idea.

Cool. Oh, and by the way,

my real name? It's Marcie.

Like, here you are, Fred, back at Crystal Cove High.

It feels so strange to be back.

Do you think anyone will remember us?

Well, look who's back, the mystery dorks.

Hey, Ethan. Hey, Gary.

How's the team-- oof!

Well, let's see.

We had to forfeit the championship when you disappeared,

resulting in both of us losing our scholarships,

and thanks to you, we're not going to college next year.

Way to ensure our future ignorance and future, Fred.

Looks like nothing has changed.

Like, one thing's changed.

Like, don't worry, Freddy.

Yeah? Well, I wonder how dreamy he'd be

if someone shot a lever with a crossbow,

dropping a bowling ball on a see-saw,

releasing an oil drum that would fall right on him

so he couldn't hold Daphne's hand.

If only. If only.

We have to look at the facts.

Daphne's not ready to come back, and she might never be.

But we're severely out of balance without her.

I think we all remember our recent crybaby clown fiasco.

- I wish I could forget. - We all do.

You know what we need.

A big basket of comfort food?

Yeah, like deep-fried chili clam poppers.

No. We need a new Daphne, and I have just the girl.

Hot Dog Water?

Aren't you supposed to be in prison

for pretending to be a manticore?

I got early probation for redesigning

the prison's computer system to be more brutal and unforgiving.

Her real name is Marcie, and as part of that probation,

I agreed to take her under my wing.

But to be our new Daphne? Like, I don't know.

I like the way you smell.

Would anybody like some candy I created with my cell mates in prison?

It's homemade.

Homemade prison candy.

Like, sweet.

Hello, new Daphne.

Marcie, you're in.

I guess if everyone else is OK with it.

But I'm still going to call you Hot Dog Water and not new Daphne.

For me, there'll never be a new Daphne.

Assistant curator Anna Akardnynov,

why did you insist upon coming with me?

This is a terrible place.

I knew you would need my help.

Ahh. Selling such a priceless artifact

as the house of Baba Yaga

to the decadent bourgeoisie westerners of Crystal Cove--

it is too much.

Calm yourself, curator Vronsky.

They will get what is coming to them very soon.

You seem angry, Anna Akardnynov.

Just protective of mother Russia and all her treasures.

Wait. What is that noise?

It is Baba Yaga!

Her terror is upon us!

Aah!

Aah!

Aah!

Traps are about more than catching violent, misguided criminals--

no offense, Hot Dog Water.

189, 189 to dispatch.

We need an ambulance out here on route 21.

A house just ran us off the road.

Repeat that, 189?

A house. It had, uh, chicken legs.

It just about destroyed us before it disappeared into the haunted hills.

Uh, stay put, 189. Help is on the way.

A house? With chicken legs?

That sounds like something we should investigate,

wouldn't you say, V.?

Uh, yeah, Marcie.

Sounds like a perfect training opportunity.

So, being as this is my first official case,

any advice?

Like, the fine art of mystery solving can take a lifetime to master.

- Or longer. - Right.

Now, like, you should just concentrate on the basics--

food, running away, and traps.

And food.

Right, Scoob. Food, running away, traps, and food.

And running away.

Right. Food, running away, traps, food, and running away.

Oh!

Just ignore them.

Let me tell you the real key to solving mysteries--

finding clues.

And we just found a big one.

This is more than a clue.

It's the whole mystery.

Mr. E. say anything about this?

No, and I think he would have mentioned

a house coming alive and running away.

Keep your eyes open.

Huh?

Yikes!

Jinkies!

I think it's gone.

Yeah, but it left behind a clue.

And this is the clearing where Baba Yaga and her house attacked us, sheriff Stone.

Yep, it's definitely a clearing.

Interesting how it's clear of any trees, like a clearing.

This is horrible!

I never should have brought the Baba Yaga exhibit to this terrible country.

I should have known it would awaken the witch.

Now, she will never stop until she destroys us all!

Destroys us?

Yes. This is a shame,

but as emergency mayor, I'm thinking it's not a total loss.

This area will become a bona fide, top-notch,

nickel-plated revenue-generating tour once again.

Sheriff, you are not the mayor.

I don't see anybody else around here getting excited

that the haunted hills of doom are infested by

a horrible Russian hag.

Curator Vronsky, wasn't there a woman with you?

Didn't you bring your assistant to America as well?

Da. Tragic.

Anna Akardnynov.

She was attacked and devoured by the witch.

We better call Mr. E.

Report.

We lost Baba Yaga and her chicken leg house.

I don't have to remind you girls how important this is.

Go back and search after everyone leaves

as if your jobs depended on it,

because they do.

Um, like, Freddy?

Have you been here all by yourself

since your, uh, not-dad went to jail?

By myself? Please!

I've got Mr. Trapples to keep me company.

Isn't that right, Mr. Trapples?

OK.

Scoob? Is something wrong, pal?

Scooby-Doo.

Velma and Mr. E. are working together.

I heard her talking on the phone.

Like, no way!

Velma would never work for Mr. E.

Would she?

I don't know. People change.

She was pretty mad at us for leaving her behind.

But--what's that, Mr. Trapples?

Mr. Trapples thinks we should check it out, just to be sure.

Lead the way, Scoob.

This is stupid.

How are we going to find Baba Yaga in all this?

Elementary, my dear Marcie--

we follow the trail of weird liquid I saw leaking from the house.

Something familiar about this stuff,

but I can't quite place it.

There it is.

And it looks like no one's home. Come on.

I don't see it. Do you see it?

No. But maybe if we think in Russian?

Frozen tundra, borscht,

muscular women...

Amber boxes. Bingo.

Is that it?

What Mr. E. was looking for?

Uh-huh. The third piece of the planospheric disc.

We found it. - Yeah.

Too bad you won't be keeping it.

How long have you been standing there?

Don't try that.

You know the concept of time confuses me.

Velma. Are you working for Mr. E.?

Yes, but it's not what you think.

When you left me behind, I didn't have much choice but to team up with Mr. E.

And second, I'm only doing this to stop Professor Pericles

from finding any more pieces of the disc.

But Velma, you know Mr. E. can't be trusted.

None of them can.

I was never going to give him this.

Fred, I'm on your side.

The piece!

Huh?

You stay away from Baba Yaga and her house!

Stay away, or we will swallow you whole,

and you will never be heard from again!

Look, gang, Mr. Trapples grabbed the piece of the planospheric disc!

Isn't he great? Everybody else OK?

Shaggy?

Shaggy!

No!

Don't touch him! He's my shaggy!

I should be the one to bury him.

- Bury me? - Shaggy!

You're OK! You're OK!

Yeah, and I'm not one of your bones,

so, like, no burying!

Check it out-- it's that same liquid again.

I thought I recognized it. It's hydraulic fluid.

My dad used to use this stuff at our amusement park.

Jinkies. And look, there's something in it.

Let me see that.

Gang, I think I know someone who can help us.

No. Go. Didn't I make myself clear the other day?

Look, Daph, I know you're mad at the gang.

I'm mad at you, Fred.

However you want to word it.

But we need your help, for old time's sake.

Please?

Fine. But make it fast.

Does this look familiar?

Sure. It's a piece of a Fabregé egg.

We used to have a bunch, but mom kept trying to boil them.

Scooby-Doo, are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Yep. Fabregé omelet.

Yummy.

I knew you could help us, Daphne.

You were always so good with clues

and calling me Freddy and blinking and--wow.

Were your knuckles always this big?

Daphne, the hot tub's bubbling our names,

and I've untethered the dolphins.

Oh, hey, school chums. What are you doing here?

Definite not looking at your abs.

You like these? You should check out my back abs.

I like to call them babs.

Fred, and shaggy and Scooby, I think you better leave. Now.

Daphne stopped you cold again?

That's got to be hard to take. I mean, no offense, Fred.

Whatever. We are so over it. Right, Mr. Trapples?

Is that...

Daphne's actual hair?

Huh? Oh, uh...

Yeah. W-weird.

Could we change the subject?

So, what'd you guys, like, find out about the hydraulic fluid?

Well, weirdly, besides amusement parks,

the only other place that type of fluid is used is in ships.

And the Baba Yaga exhibit came to town on a freighter from mother Russia.

Which means it's time for a visit to the Crystal Cove docks.

This is the freighter.

Aiee!

She's getting away! Come on!

Shaggy, Scooby, crossbows!

Aah!

And now, let's see who Baba Yaga really is.

Curator Vronsky?

Exactly.

He was using Baba Yaga's house

to smuggle stolen Fabregé eggs into the country.

That's right.

I was going to sell them on the black market.

Finally, I was to be a rich capitalist with all my loot.

I had it planned perfectly.

Before becoming a museum curator,

I spent many years in Spetsnaz, Soviet Special Forces.

This allowed me to make modifications on the house

using what I could find on the ship.

I even put a remote control in my walking stick

to move the house.

I needed to get assistant curator

Anna Akardnynov out of the way

before she became suspicious of my plan.

I tied her up and kept her prisoner in the house

while I donned the Baba Yaga costume

and used the voice modulator to frighten away the curious.

But when one of the eggs was damaged,

I had to alter the plan.

But you brats kept interrupting my repair of the legs.

I could not leave any of my precious eggs behind.

There were too many.

I needed the house to carry them all.

And I would have gotten away with it, too,

if it wasn't for you decadent bourgeoisie teenagers

and your slobbering, democracy-loving dog.

I had my suspicions of Vronsky all along.

That is why I came with him.

Thank you for saving the Fabregé eggs,

our national treasure.

See, Marcie? I knew it would work out.

It's good having you around.

It's good to be around. I'm really happy.

We're a pretty great team, don't you guys think?

Like, sure, I guess, Hot Dog Water.

I like how you smell like hot dogs.

I'm happy you're here too, Hot Dog Water,

but-- Don't take this the wrong way.

I still want my Daphne back,

the Daphne who used to care about me,

who used to assure me that dreams could come true,

unless they involved wingless flight

and setting objects on fire with my mind.

My Daphne is a queen, a shining angel

prancing up the side of a rainbow

and smelling like a baby faun covered in honey,

not some cylindrical pork by-product sweating in a greasy vat of brine.

Uh--

Sorry, Hot Dog Water. No offense.

Like I said, I'm happy you're here.

Hello, Hot Dog Water.

Mr. E. I--

Save it. I've been watching.

It's clear we can't trust Velma anymore.

No.

I think maybe we should give her another chance.

Talk to her.

Don't go making friends, Hot Dog Water.

I put you in there as my eyes and ears.

You do as I say.

And definitely don't side with mystery, incorporated.

Their days are numbered.

Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com

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