Original subtitles

(WHOOSH! BOTH SHOUT)

- Tumbling through an interdimensional vortex,

Warren and Lucy discover twisted versions of their own world,

always hoping the next one will be home.

(ALARM BLARES, WHIRRING)

(ZAP!)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

Loz, what are you doing in the dark, man? Hey, Loz. (GASPS) E hika!

(ELECTRONIC MUSIC)

Captions by Rebecca Scholtz.

Captions were made with the support of NZ On Air.

www.able.co.nz Copyright Able 2025.

(INTRIGUING MUSIC BUILDS)

(MUSIC ENDS)

- (BREATHES HOARSELY) (ELECTRONIC BLOOPING)

- (SNAPS FINGERS) Yoo-hoo, big summer blowout!

(SIGHS) It's like the lights are on, but no one's home.

- Huh. So not all that different, to be honest.

(DROOL TRICKLES) - (FARTS)

- Is she wearing nappies? - That's not the strangest thing

I've seen Auntie Laurel wear. - (FARTS WETLY)

- Ew. I think she needs to be changed.

- Oh, they've got them too.

OK, we should go find Mum.

She wouldn't be dumb enough to get taken over by her mobile ph?

Dad? Dad!

- (GASPS) Sorry, I zoned out there for a second. What did you say?

- OK, don't look at the phone. I think they take over your brain.

- (LAUGHS DRYLY) And how many times have I said that to you, huh?

Irony, much? - (SIGHS)

- Yeah, I think we should go and find your mu...

- Dad.

Dad! Snap out of it! (SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!)

(SNARLS) - (GASPS)

- Let's go find Mum. - I was about to say that to you.

(SPOOKY SYNTH MUSIC)

Hinemoa? Babe?

- Ugh. - Holy hika.

(FLY BUZZES)

Ooh. - Whoa.

- I haven't seen the house this paru

since your mother went to the Gold Coast to visit her sister.

- Yeah. Why did everything get so untidy while she was gone?

- (BLOWS AIR) Complete mystery to me.

(CAR HORN BLARES CONTINUOUSLY)

(EXHALES)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC BUILDS)

(HORN BLARES, ELECTRONIC BLOOPS)

(ELECTRONIC ROOSTER CROWS)

- Ugh. - Ah, you see?

I warned your mother about texting and driving.

Far out, man. People are so engrossed

in their mobile phones... (CAR HORN STOPS)

...when they're really supposed to be focusing on what they're d?

Ooh, two bucks! (THUD! CAR HORN RESUMES)

Ooh. Aroha mai, my darling. (CAR HORN STOPS)

- Oh, they're everywhere. Let's get her inside.

(ELECTRONIC CROWING CONTINUES)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(ELECTRONIC CROWING CONTINUES)

- (FARTS) - Oh, uncle, no!

- Uh-oh! (THUD!)

Ah, leave him. He's all good.

- So they're all playing some sort of farming game called Whani Farm.

I think it's what turned them all into mobile phone zombies.

- That's quite hard to say, actually ? 'mobile phone zombies'.

Like, 'Oh no, look out! It's the mobile phone zombies!' Mm?

- Uh, what about... (RASPS) 'mombies?'

- Mombies. Like it. Fist bump. - Thank you.

- (IMITATES EXPLOSION) - (INHALES) OK, so maybe

if we wake up all the mombies, the vortex will open.

- Mm-hm.

SHOUTS: Hinemoa! Wake up! Stop being a mombie!

Nah. I know what'll wake her up.

(FRIDGE DOOR OPENS)

Oh, honey... (CHUCKLES)

check it out. Look at what I'm doing.

(GASPS) I'm drinking milk straight out of the carton.

Mmm...

(SPITS) That milk has expired.

- Uh, note to Dad ? maybe don't drink milk in other dimensions.

- Hey. Check it out, hon.

(GASPS) I'm gonna put cutlery in the wrong way up.

(CUTLERY, CROCKERY CLINKS)

See how crusty that plate is? - So crusty.

- I'm never even gonna rinse it.

(CLINK!)

- (WHEEZES) - Oh.

(GRUNTS) That brace really holds that phone in there.

- (FARTS WETLY) - Ugh, and those nappies

are so gross.

- OK.

I'm gonna Prince Charming this.

(CLEARS THROAT)

(MAGICAL MUSIC)

Time to wake up, Sleeping Beauty.

(MAGICAL MUSIC FADES)

Your mother's breath smells like Portaloos

at a three-day music festival.

- Well, um?

I guess oral hygiene's not really a priority in this universe.

- Mm. Mm-mm. Mm.

(SIGHS) If only there was someone left who could tell us

what's going on ? someone who doesn't own a mobile phone.

- What kind of sad, bitter, antisocial loser

doesn't have a mobile phone?

(DRAMATIC MUSICAL FLOURISH)

- Oh.

Even Mrs S.

She was always going on about how phones were the devil's Lego.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

- OK, she's not wearing one of those weird arm braces,

so maybe we could... (CLICKS TONGUE)

- Oh.

(TOOL CLICKS)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC BUILDS)

(DRAMATIC SYNTH STING)

Urgh.

(GASPS) Sorry. - Oi!

What are you two heathens doing in my house?

Get out now!

- It worked. - 1001 uses, these things.

- (GROANS IN PAIN)

(PLASTIC RUSTLES)

- Oh! Oh! (ELECTRONIC ROOSTER CROWS)

- (FARTS)

- Oh my God, I think she's dead.

- 1002?

- Dad! - I'll call an ambulance.

- No, no, don't touch the phone! - (YELPS)

Aroha mai, Mrs S.

- (FARTS)

- OK, who else wouldn't have a phone?

- Dogs.

- Yeah, because dogs would really help us in this situation (!)

Crazy conspiracy theorist, got rid of his phone

because he thought Vladimir Putin was watching him on the toilet?

- Darren. I'll give him a call right now.

Oh yeah. Phone. Yeah. Sorry. We'll just? We'll just go there.

(CLEARS THROAT)

(SPOOKY SYNTH MUSIC)

- This reality gives me the creeps.

(PRAM RATTLES) - Yes.

I don't think it's that much different from our reality,

to be honest, honey,

even with the nappies.

(MOMBIE FARTS)

Ew.

Hey.

That's Phil.

Phil!

Whoa. (OPENS CAR DOOR)

Hey. Hey, Phil?

(TAP! TAP! SNAP! SNAP!) Hey, pal.

(GRUNTS) (SMACK!)

- What are you doing? - Ah, nothing, honey.

I was just seeing if he'll snap out of it, that's all.

- Why don't you try Prince Charming him?

- Maybe I will.

Yeah.

Not so tough now, are you, Phil,

with your annoying swagger and your condescending tone?

And you know what? No one cares that your barbecue's bigger than mine.

No one. - Hey, are you finished?

- Nah, not quite.

Got something special for you, mate.

Check this out ? Stanky Steve's.

Over 10 million Scoville, buddy.

That's gonna be fun when you wake up. (SAUCE SQUIRTS)

Yeah. There you go. (GIGGLES MALICIOUSLY)

- Real mature, Dad. Real mature (!)

- Kia ora, my darling.

You know what? Nah. Yeah. (SAUCE SQUIRTS)

Take that.

- Hurry up! - I'm coming.

- RASPS: Subscribe.

- We all love Whani Farm, but tired of having to put down your phone?

Well, now you can play Whani Farm 24-7 with the all-new Arm-Clamp.

Whani Farm ? putting the 'fun' into Whani.

- (PANTS) Lights are out. He'll be in the shed.

(PANTS)

- Whoa. - Holy hika!

What the f? Argh! - Jeez! Uncle Darren?

- Oh. You guys. (TINFOIL RUSTLES)

Oh, I thought you'd been kidnapped by hackers working for North Korea.

(CHUCKLES) You haven't, have you?

- Uh, I don't think so.

- Bro, what's with the Tin Man costume?

- OK, Uncle Doner Kebab, look. We need to know what's going on.

I can't believe I'm saying this, but...

we wanna hear your conspiracy theories.

('X-FILES'-STYLE EERIE MUSIC)

- So it's my time to shine.

So I have got three theories. (TIN FOIL RUSTLES)

- We were kind of hoping you'd have one really good one.

- First, the mobile phones contain mind-control chips,

and the governments use them to subjugate us.

- Nice word. What else?

- Second, phones are ancient alien tech.

The aliens want to come back and control us, hence the addiction.

- OK, that's a little Stargate-meets-Transformers.

Got anything that's not already a movie?

- You're gonna love this, Warren.

What if the Maori god of horticulture got bored of gardening, OK,

and decided to become the god of technology,

and he's using phones to take over Aotearoa?

(TIN FOIL RUSTLES)

- So when you said, 'You're gonna love this, Warren,' did you mean

cos I'm Maori?

- (STUTTERS) Uh...

- Maybe the first one, eh? - Yeah, yeah, I think.

- Also, what's with the, uh? weird pants with the tubes on them?

- Oh. Uh, they're called eco-cycle pants.

So they take your body waste, they turn it into nutrients,

and then they pump it back into your body.

- Ew. Like poo catchers? - Yeah, exactly.

It allows them to play the game 24-7. They actually all got them off Temu.

- Yeah, I really like to play those games on the toilet, eh?

What? It aids in...

- Yeah. Anyway, um, this game, Whani Farm, came out,

and everyone was immediately hooked,

but then the game started offering incentives to recruit new players.

OK? So hit a billion points, and you can level up to become a 'recruiter'.

OK, now, these 'recruiters' are actually quite dangerous,

because they can run around and force you to play the game.

But don't worry. I mean,

you have to hit a billion points to become a 'recruiter', OK?

And, actually, the chances of running into one are super slim,

because (CHUCKLES) everybody's been 'recruited'

(CHUCKLES) apart from me, uh... and? and you guys.

Feeling a bit stuffy in here, so I'll just open this door.

- Hmm. - Sorry.

(DARREN AND LUCY SCREAM, RECRUITERS CLAMOUR)

Recruiters! Ah! Stop! No! - Subscribe!

- Spawn of Satan! - (GROANS)

- Dad! - No! No!

- GROANS: Grow your farm... (RECRUITERS CLAMOUR, GAME CROWS)

- Dad! Dad! (DOOR SHUTS)

- DRONES: Reap the rewards. - Dad!

- Mm-hm? - (ROARS)

- Hi, guys. What? What? - They must have seen you guys.

- OK, we have to get out of here. This place isn't safe.

- Can't we just, um, close our eyes and just push through them?

- No, no, no, no, no. (PANTS)

It's not just seeing the screen that enslaves you. (PANTS)

But I think I've got a way for us to get out of here.

('X-FILES'-STYLE EERIE MUSIC)

(TIN FOIL RUSTLES)

(PANTS)

(UPBEAT, FUTURISTIC SYNTH MUSIC)

- (GRUNTS)

- OK. Now I know what a garlic bread feels like.

- GROANS: Subscribe... - Get off! I don't like subscribing.

- Subscribe... - Dad, help!

- Lucy! - RECRUITERS MOAN: Subscribe!

- Get off her! - Dad?

- Get, get! - (GRUNTS, PANTS)

- Honey, I want you to keep your tinfoil on.

I don't want you to see what I'm about to do.

(BLADE SINGS)

(GRUNTS) Hey, mombies. You're about to get unsubscribed.

(YELLS)

(GRUNTS) (TOOL WHIPS, THWACKS)

(FARTING, MARTIAL-ARTS THWACKING)

(THWACKING, FARTING)

(GONG CRASHES)

You've all been disconnected.

- Hey, I think I know that nun. - (FARTS)

- Yeah, she used to teach me at school.

- Oh. Aroha mai, Sis.

- Oh, nah. That's OK. She was really mean.

- Yeah, she looks mean.

- OK, we should go back to our place. Let's go.

(DRAMATIC SYNTH FLOURISH)

- (WHEEZES) (GAME BLOOPS, TRILLS)

(BLOOPING INTENSIFIES)

- OK, everybody's reaching a billion points faster than I thought.

- OK, let's barricade all the doors. - I'll check the rest of the house.

- Did you know that, on average, 80% of normal domestic couches

are covered in human skin, dried saliva, and wet faecal matter?

- Why would you tell me this? Any recruiters outside?

(ELECTRONIC CROWING) - Uh, yep.

- OK. Let's start with the side door first. That way, nothing can get in.

- Or out. - Bro, again, why?

(THUD!)

Hang on. Where's Hinemoa?

- (SCREAMS)

Lucy!

(PHONE VIBRATES, FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)

Lucy!

Lucy! (GAME BLOOPS)

Oh, no! No?

- Just knock the phone out of her hand.

- We tried that with Mrs S, and she died.

SOBS: No, no!

My little girl's a mombie.

I'm sorry, honey.

I protected you from evil refrigerators

and robot real estate agents, and after all that,

I couldn't even protect you from a stupid mobile phone.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC BUILDS)

Hinemoa? - (WHEEZES)

RASPS: Sub... (WHEEZES) ...scribe! (ROOSTER CROWS)

(BOTH SCREAM)

- Ah! - Go, go, go, go, go, go!

(SIGHS) OK, we're safe. - (PANTS)

- Hinemoa never comes in here. She reckons it gives her anxiety.

- Yeah, I don't think I've ever been in this room.

- Ah, yeah, this is basically where we keep all the stuff

that we never use. It's our, uh, stuff room.

- Hey, I gave you that selfie stick for your birthday.

- Ah... stuff and some really precious, meaningful things

that we use all the time.

(TIN FOIL RUSTLES)

- It's still gift-wrapped. (THUMP AT DOOR)

- GRUNTS: Subscribe! (HANDLE RATTLES)

- Hey, that's the swingball set I gave you for Christmas!

I can't believe this.

- No, no, not my guitar! Here.

(THUD!)

(CRASH!) (WHINES)

- ...scribe! - (GRUNTS)

- (WHINES) - (GROWLS)

GROWLS: Subscribe! - Nah.

I can't do it. I can't. I can't do this to such a beautiful instrument.

This guitar was built for sweet melodies, not for violence.

- I don't think this is the time for tunes, Warren!

- But this is Hinemoa's favourite. - (WHIMPERS)

- PLAINTIVELY: # Kahore he wahine

# e rite ki a Hinemoa. (BLOOPING STOPS)

# Tai ana tana hiahia...

(PHONE CLATTERS) # ...ki te mutunga.

# E hi nawa.

# E hika hei. #

(MAGICAL TINKLING)

- BREATHES: Warren? - E te tau?

You're you again! - (LAUGHS TENDERLY)

- Dad?

Mum!

- (SOBS) (TIN FOIL RUSTLES)

Ugh. (SNIFFLES)

- Your song ? it snapped me out of it.

Normally, your singing's like first season of Glee-level cringe,

but this time

kinda worked.

- Harmonic disruption. - Yes!

The classic Maori three-chord strum must disrupt the brain

and sever the link to the phone. Dad, you found the cure!

- You know, like my Uncle Te Waiarangi always says,

if a guitar can't fix it, you're not playing it loud enough.

- Dad, if we weaponise your cringe,

we could sort this whole mombie mess.

- Oh, well,

let's give it a bash, then.

(STRUMS, RAPS GUITAR) A-tahi, rua, a-tahi, rua, toru, wha.

- ALL SING: # Pa mai

# to reo aroha...

- Ki te aha! - # ...ki te pa

# o Rotorua. (ELECTRONIC CROWING) - E nga iwi!

- # E nga iwi o Aotearoa...

- Haere mai! - # ...haere mai.

# Haere mai. #

- (PLAYS FINAL CHORDS) - # Haere m... #

- Warren! Lucy!

- Wazza! Ugh, I haven't seen you for ages.

(GRUNTS) How are ya, bro? (SQUELCHING)

- Oh, kei te pai, bro. Yeah. Mm-hm.

- (LAUGHS) Ooh. (SQUELCHING)

Why am I so sloshy? (LIQUID GURGLES)

- What is that smell? And where the hell have you two been?

- I'll explain later. Right now, it's time for 'Maori-oke'.

- You can't do that all by yourself, Dad. - Don't worry.

I'm bringing in the big guns.

(CHEERFUL GUITAR MUSIC)

Hey, kia ora, Auntie. - Oh, Warren! It's been ages. Up to?

- Mwah! Hey, is that us, Auntie? Waiata's on?

- Waiata's on. - Ka pai. The boys home? - Boys home.

Boys ? maranga mai!

(CHEERFUL GUITAR MUSIC PLAYS)

- # Te iwi e. - # Te iwi e.

- # Te iwi e.

- E karanga! - ALL: # E karanga, e te iwi e.

- # Kua eke mai nei. - # Kua eke mai nei.

# Ki runga te marae e.

- # Mauria mai ra.

- # Mauria mai ra, e nga mate o te motu e? #

- RUMBLES: Kati te waiata kino rawa atu!

I am Hangarau Tiketike, the Maori god of technology.

And in my realm,

there will be no singing.

- Oh my God!

I was right. I was right about it being a Maori god!

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Taihoa.

There's no such thing as the Maori god of technology.

- There is now.

I was once the god of horticulture.

But you stupid mortals had no respect for my realm, so I...

decided to change. - Ah, you were Haumia Tiketike.

- Don't even say that name. My name is Hangarau?

- Hey, why did you enslave everybody? Not cool, bro!

- I can do what I like.

Now you will suffer my wrath! - Oh yeah?

Looks like we'll have to settle this the old-school way.

Ah, taringa whakarongo! - (EXCLAIMS)

- Kia rite! Kia mau.

- ALL: Hi!

- OK, OK, whoa! No need for a full-on haka, bro.

Just, uh... give me a second.

(REVERSE SIGNAL BEEPS)

BOOMS: Hi!

Hi, aue!

- Please be aliens. Please be aliens! Please. (MUTTERS)

(MOMENTOUS SYNTH MUSIC)

- HIGH-PITCHED: Kia ora, bro.

- Ah. - Uh, kia ora.

So, you're not even a atua at all, are you?

- Nah. Nah, nah, nah. - Cool, cool, cool.

So what's with the gigantic floating head?

- Oh, you know, I kind of just, uh...

kind of just got bored one day.

You know, I didn't know everyone was gonna get addicted to my game, so?

- Your game? - Yeah.

Whani Farm. I made it.

You know, I used to study horticulture,

but, uh, you know, turns out the pollen from the grass

would give me a rash on my... - Ew.

- So, uh, I switched over to computer studies.

You know, made a game, and, you know, next thing,

I'm like a billionaire,

and nek minnit everyone's getting addicted to my game

and turning into these? these zombies.

I didn't know how to fix it, so I kind of just, um?

- ...built a giant head and flew around in it,

pretending to be an atua? - Yeah. Yeah, pretty much, eh!

Yeah, you know, us billionaires are always doing some crazy shiz.

- You have to make this right. - Hey, OK, chill, chill, sis.

Now that I know that your song's the answer,

all I got to do is connect to every phone in the world

and broadcast it. (CELL PHONE BEEPS)

Sweet as. You're up. - (CLEARS THROAT) OK.

Me waiata tahi tatou. (PLAYS CHEERFUL GUITAR MELODY)

- # E nga iwi, kia tapatahi.

# Kia kotahi ra ?

# tatou, tatou e.

- Tutira! - ALL: # Tutira mai nga iwi ?

- Ooh! (EXCLAIMS) - # tatou, tatou e.

- Karanga ti taha! - # Tutira mai nga iwi ?

- Aue! - # tatou, tatou e.

# Whaia te maramatanga

# me te aroha... # ...e nga iwi.

# Kia tapatahi. Kia kotahi ra... #

- Chur, my bro. (CHORTLES)

- Kumara fries. Reka, bro. - Enjoy that, my bro.

Mate.

Oh, hey, Phil. You all good?

- Hey, uh... thought I'd come and check on everyone.

There's, uh... been some weird goings-on since the wake-up, eh.

- Like what?

- (EXHALES HEAVILY) Anyone else got a real burny mouth?

Like, super burny. Feels like mine's on fire.

I've got, like, sore guts.

It's coming out of me like iced tea, man. My bottom's red-raw.

Pulled my cheeks apart in the mirror ?

looked like a sliced capsicum.

24-7, I'm paintballing my shorts. My lips are like this.

- Uh... (CLEARS THROAT) You wanna join us for a feed, Phil?

There's plenty of kai to go round. - Oh, thanks, man. That's...

That's kind of you, so... Oh, I see you've gone with the standard bacon.

I myself usually get the, uh, honey-cured bacon. It's, uh...

'Scuse.

It's a little bit more expensive, but, um...

- Yeah. All good. All good. - Yeah, I just say to myself,

'Oh, you're worth it, Phil.'

- How about some sauce with that, Phil?

- Oh. - Yep. OK.

Well, I guess all's well that ends well, eh, babe?

- Uh, Warren...

uh, there's something I need to talk to you about.

- Oh, OK.

- Uh, actually, that, um...

something we need to talk to you about.

(TENDER SYNTH MUSIC)

- Oh.

Oh. Oh wow, you don't muck around, do you, Muzz?

- Well, we waited officially

till you were declared dead before we got married.

- Out of? Out of respect.

- I guess I should have seen the signs, eh?

(TENDER SYNTH SAXOPHONE MUSIC)

Congratulations to you both.

I'm glad you found happiness in each other.

- Really? - Yeah.

Eh, Luce?

- Yeah. Congratulations, Mum.

And you too, Uncle Murray. - Oh, Dad number two.

- Yeah, that's not happening.

- Dad Two? - Don't push it.

(DRAMATIC SYNTH MUSIC)

- Hey, uh, we're just gonna go grab something from the tool shed.

Love youse.

- (EXHALES DEEPLY) - Dad number two?

- Oh, I know, it just came to me.

(WEIRD, PULSATING HUM)

(CUTLERY CLINKS)

(FAINT CHUCKLING)

(EXHALES)

- I know I should be hoha, but I'm...

I'm just happy they're happy. You know?

- You're not angry because that isn't your Hine.

- Do you think my Hinemoa will wait for me?

- Yeah. She's waiting.

Cos the best duets always need both voices.

- MIMICS RADIO ANNOUNCER: Coming up next on the Cheesy Cheese Channel ?

The Best Duets Always Need Both Voices.

- Shut up! Let's go. - Ooh.

Were you actually being serious? - Yeah, no.

- Aww. Did I ruin an emotional moment for you?

- You know what ? I don't wanna say something nice to you any more.

- Aww.

# The best duets always need both voices. #

(PULSATING HUM)

(BOTH GRUNT)

- Oh, great (!) This definitely isn't home.

- And these definitely aren't our clothes.

- We've been undressed and re-dressed without our consent.

Ew. How is that even possible?

- Different undies. These ones have got an action gusset.

- Dad, I don't think testing out your undies is the reason the vortex brought us here.

(SCREAMING, LIGHTNING CRACKS, THUNDER RUMBLES)

Oh. It's Mrs Schrodinger!

- Why does she keep dying? This is, like, the fifth time.

- We've landed in some corny murder-mystery cosplay.

- Oh, Inspector, thank God you're here. What's happened?

- Dad. I think the vortex wants us to solve a murder.

The vortex won't let us leave until we find who the real killer is.

- Chief Inspector Doyle, Scotland Yard.

- You're my boss?

- The murderer has to be someone in this room.

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