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[? foreboding music playing]
[Korvo] Oh, God, what the hell?
Everyone get your double C thicc tushies in here right now.
-[Yumyulack gasps] -What's wrong with Pupes?
Whatever it is, it's not my fault.
I've been busy committing healthcare fraud,
and I've got the paper trail to prove it.
Yes, it's freaky, but TBH, it's also kind of a serve.
It's not a serve.
Look at him, he's glowing.
Pupas of a certain age will start to emit
lethal amounts of radiation.
Look.
Damn, that's my king.
Was that from the Halloween special?
The Pupa's rad count is going to rise
until we cool his ass down, which means we are fucked.
We owe 92 million Japanese Yen?
What, no. It's $600,000.
Sorry, I do a lot of Duolingo when I'm on the can.
-What can? -The one in the backyard
that we trapped the skunk under.
If someone doesn't sit on it, we're gonna get sprayed.
We need to figure out how to get some money and fast
because we have to buy a cooling rod to feed the Pupa,
or his radiation will blast us all to ash.
What? We trapped that skunk a month ago.
-You're still sitting on the can? -You're not?
Focus, the skunk is surely dead, and I don't want to join it.
So let's just buy a cooling rod from the same Latverians
we got the doombot from.
We can't, we're poor now.
Money doesn't just magically reset for us because it's a new day.
We have no choice.
We'll have to list our apartment in the Wooden City.
-Okay, whatevs. -Sounds good.
No, you just reminded me it exists.
We never go to the Wooden City anymore.
Our condo's market value has gone up.
We'll be able to pay for the rod and that cute Hello Kitty lunchbox
that perfectly fits our meth cigars.
Fuck, I do want that lunchbox.
Then it's settled.
The Solar Opposites are selling their Wooden City apartment
because they're too poor to buy a rod.
Shit, the skunk got out of the bucket.
-[skunk snarls] -[group screams]
[explosion booms]
Ho ho, and you said it was surely dead.
[Korvo] Planet Shlorp was a perfect utopia
until the asteroid hit.
One hundred adults and their replicants were issued a Pupa,
and escaped into space,
searching for new homes on uninhabited worlds.
We crashed on Earth,
stranding us on an already overpopulated planet.
That's right, I've been talking this whole time.
I'm the one holding the Pupa.
My name is Korvo. This is my show.
Bollocks, I just dropped the Pupa.
Ugh. This is ridiculous. I hate Earth.
It's a horrible home. People are stupid and confusing.
Why don't humans kiss with their teeth?
Stop relying on that wet tongue and those puffy lips.
You gotta clack those calcified nubs.
[? dramatic music swells]
[Miss Frankie] Good morning, students.
It is the great joy of my life
to inspire young minds like yours.
Now on to chapter four, which you all should have read.
Psst, did you read that jizz?
Hell no, I don't even know what this class is about.
Knock, knock.
Cool new principal checking in.
Hold your applause till after I'm gone.
[both moaning]
Oh, Antoine, I have you to thank
for reinvigorating my passion for teaching,
and other things.
-[Miss Frankie growls softly] -Ugh!
Since when is she careful about mentioning her labia?
Ever since it got slick as a seal
with new hunky principal Antoine Sous Vide.
In the spirit of good teachering,
tomorrow, you'll be taking a quiz.
It'll cover Roman numerals one through six.
-So study hard. -[school bell rings]
This sucks! We've never had to take a quiz before.
It's six whole Roman numerals.
What are we, baby Einsteins?
[Staci] Listen, you freaky little dick wags.
The Stacis? You guys are still bullying?
Miss Frankie's been all happy and nice since Principal Cooke left.
Now she's with Sous Vide and she's giving quizzes?
You need to make this go away.
Why us?
Because... Wait, why them again?
You little alien bitches have always used
your stupid sci-fi to get rid of homework and tasks.
This quiz is gonna mess up our GPAs,
and if it does, we'll stab you with butter knives.
[Stacis] We stole them from my stepdad's girlfriend's house,
and they will draw blood.
Okay, settle down, the Stacis.
We got this. You can count on us.
Yup, can do, chickadees.
Chickadees? Jesus, why am I such a penis?
We don't have time to roast your flirting fails.
We sold our sci-fi rays in the estate sale.
Shit, you're right. I was so busy trying to pop the alien equivalent
of a boner that I totally forgot.
Ah, geez. How are we gonna do this without a ray
that makes people forget about quizzes?
Maybe we don't need sci-fi.
When Miss Frankie was with Principal Cooke,
she was miserable and checked out, right?
So all we have to do is get them back together.
But isn't she happier with Principal Sous Vide?
Yes, and now we get to make her sadder.
Come on!
[Terry] Wow, the Wooden City.
Remember when I was a sex worker here?
And then we almost drowned in honey.
Good times.
We haven't been in the apartment for so long.
I hope it isn't dusty.
Yeesh, someone needs to take a weed whacker
to this place stat.
We are that someone, Terry.
Let's get cleaning and watch out for snakes and shit.
Man, I always felt so cool in our big city condo.
-Sucks that we have to sell it. -I, too, feel cool.
But a pair of settled-down married aliens such as ourselves aren't in need
of a Don Draper-style urban fuck pad.
[Korvo grunts]
Mama's keeping some of her sweet appliances:
pi๏ฟฝa colada machine, the fondue fish tank,
hot tub with a vodka-rita dispenser.
We don't have room for all that shit at home.
And vodka-ritas give me shingles.
[Korvo grunts]
Something about being back in this apartment
just makes me, oh, I love how chopping old branches
makes you all sweated up.
Stop flirting. Yank out those roots.
But I can't resist my man in his tool belt.
[both grunting]
Terry, I...
Oh, well, maybe just one more ride in the Wooden City.
Giddy up, crawdaddy!
[both moaning]
[Jesse] We didn't sell all our ray guns.
There has to be something here that can get
two of the only teachers to fall in love.
If those Stacis find out we're rayless,
they're gonna do a stabbing on us for sure.
Too bad we lost the Bang It Out
and the Foot Stuff rays.
Oh, wait, I saw a movie the other night that might help.
It's called The Parent Trap,
and it's about a set of human twins who switch places
to trick their parents into getting back together.
But we're not twins.
I'm handsome, and you look like a frog from Rocko's Modern Life.
Twins are born mischievous and evil.
We don't have to look the same.
We just have to be as tricky and manipulative as twins.
In conclusion, the kids of James Earl Jones High
need you back, Princip...
I mean, Dr., Mr. Cooke.
Ah, thanks, alien child.
But that's going to be a respectful pass from me.
But aren't you sad here on your own,
throwing clay barefoot?
As if! I finally found what brings me peace,
sculpting custom clay dogs for my Etsy store.
But all the kids at school miss you.
So do the teachers, especially Miss Frankie.
Fuck that. I'll never go back to that hag after what she did to me.
Uh, are you crapping your pants or something?
Oh, he's remembering.
It was last spring.
The scent of Pepsi Zero was in the breeze.
The school was hosting a petting zoo
to raise money for the bake sale.
The petting zoo was centered around a donkey named Pearl.
Miss Frankie told me to ride her, so I did,
and it was pretty hilarious.
But then I slipped off,
and she stamped her hoof right on my scrotum!
-[Principal Cooke screams] -[spectators laughing]
The pain gave me clarity.
I realized I hated my job, and Miss Frankie,
so I left them both behind, and I've never felt better.
I do still piss blood though.
Time for twin plan B.
Oh, please, Principal Cooke, please come back to school.
We're begging you. You need to fuck Miss Frankie,
bang the desire to teach good right out of her.
No, go away. I said I'm happy, goddammit.
Leave me alone. I have a Lhasa Apso to kiln.
Cripes, this is gonna be harder than we thought.
Cripes, like, who are you?
I'm homespun and quirky. Quit riding my haystack!
[both panting]
Time flies when you're mound pounding.
How many times did we just hump?
Seventeen.
We've managed to have our alien version of sex for so long
that we've barely done any cleaning.
I guess being in this cool apartment
and away from the fam has us horned up, huh?
It's true. All I want to do is massage your undermound until you goosh.
But we have to focus.
I'm putting a line of tape down the middle of the apartment.
No sexy little crossings allowed.
-Well, that's weird. -You stay on your side.
I'll stay on mine.
We need to get this apartment ready
'cause hunting season starts tomorrow!
And everyone knows that's the best time to sell.
Great, fine, whatevs.
I'll be over here working
and not thinking about your mush maker.
[Korvo grunts]
Ooh, chop that wood, Papi.
Oh, dammit!
[Terry grunts]
Swing that ax right into my muffin hole.
Oh, God, I need some air.
How about some tacos el pinecone and huevos brancheros?
That way, we'll be too bloated and farty for sex.
Perfect, let's get out of this horny hell.
[both panting]
Almost out of the apartment!
Ah! Too horny!
What the hell? I thought we were going out.
We were. Wait, did we just have sex again?
[sniffs] Oh, God, we did. [sniffs] Twice.
That's weird. Come on, I'm really thirsty.
[Korvo and Terry groan]
Holy shit, when did we 69?
[Korvo mumbles indistinctly]
-What? -Don't you realize?
This apartment, it's so vibey. We're--
Having sex right now?
[Korvo] [shouting] Why are we so horny?
[Yumyulack] We are so screwed!
Both Principal Cooke and Miss Frankie are so happy.
They'll never get back together!
And I just got a Truth Social DM from the Stacis.
It's an alien head emoji next to a cheese grater emoji.
I think they're threatening to shred us over some pasta or a nice salad.
We need to come at this from another angle.
What if we break up Miss Frankie and Principal Sous Vide?
Then, Frankie will have no choice but to get back with Principal Cooke.
She's a scag hag. That means limited options.
Maybe some of these bargain bin rays
that didn't sell at the estate sale could help.
We got a slingshot.
Yeah, but the only thing sci-fi about it is that it lights up.
We've also got the One Man Show blow dart.
It's preloaded with The Taint Monologues.
Terry gave up on that EGOT fast.
That's some pretty crappy sci-fi, but it'll have to do.
-Oh, oh. -[Terry groans]
This has gone too far.
I didn't even know we could pull off a reverse Dollywood position.
Ah, my mound is so torn up, it feels like applesauce.
Something in this cool-ass apartment is making us so horny
that it's wiping our short-term memories.
-Has that always been a thing? -It is now.
If we don't get out of here soon, we could die.
Huh, when was the last time we had water?
Mm, wet water.
No, no. We need to get out of here.
It's too sexy. Going through the front door won't work.
Not with that hot ass, it won't.
Get a hold of yourself, Terry.
We have to find the least sexy part of this apartment.
Here?
Is here less horny?
Mm, oh, no.
All I want to do is dock your bits till you squizz.
This corner maybe?
No, it still makes me want to sit on your face.
Dit-to!
[Korvo grunts]
Oh. Wait, Terry, this is it. I think I found it.
I'm a little less horny right here.
-Under a picture of the replicants? -Yes.
Seeing their lame, not cool faces
is just unsettling enough that I can feel my juices calming.
-Oh, I feel it too. -This wall is our only chance.
For the first time today, start digging into something
other than my ass.
Don't Iris and Fern,
that lesbian underbrush couple, live through there?
We'll just have to pray we don't find them attractive.
[grunting]
[Korvo and Terry scream]
[Terry gasps]
What the hell happened here?
[? ominous music playing]
[swing creaking]
[Terry] Iris and Fern!
We have to get them to whatever they have here
instead of a hospital.
I don't know, like a tree?
A guy, like a... What do you... What do you call those tree guys?
They're dead, Terry.
Judging by the sex swing and all the lube bottles,
they got the horny blindness too.
Korvo, I'm scared.
And snailing. Snailing so, so hard.
Fuck, look at me, look at me.
-God, I'm snailing so fuckin' hard. -[Korvo groaning]
Wait, Terr-Bear, look.
Oh, my God, that ugly purple flower!
It's the same as the one in our apartment.
[Korvo shuddering]
-Oh, fuck me now! -[slap smacks]
Oh, God, sorry, sorry, it's the scent.
The flowers are making us horny.
Follow the vines, Terry.
We've got to dig 'em out by the roots.
[both grunting]
I'm trying, Korvy, but I'm getting blinded by desire!
I am too, Terry, but we can't stop.
Ugh, show me your shmelk hole!
No, you show me yours.
[both scream]
Well, hello there, you sexy boys.
[Korvo] How fuckin' dare you?
We are not boys. We're non-gendered alien--
Lick me till I quack, Professor!
[Terry and Korvo groan]
[passionfruit laughing]
Iggy the Iguana will always be in our hearts
and some of our stomachs,
for the ones who ended up eating the mac and cheese
before we realized he fell into the vat.
So we use the slingshot
to shoot the One Man Show dart into Sous Vide's neck.
He'll start performing The Taint Monologues,
which is totally inappropriate for school.
That'll get him fired, Miss Frankie will dump him,
and get back together with Principal Cooke,
and then... [inhales deeply] she'll be shitty again
and forget about the quiz!
It's a long walk, but we're taking it.
[? dramatic music playing]
-[grunts] -Bazinga!
Nestled between the goodies,
the taint defines who I am,
who I was, who I'll be.
Let the humiliation begin!
As I was being wiped, I realized that I'd grown accustomed
to the reality that I would never be balls nor ass.
I would always be the grundle cavity.
[crowd cheering, clapping]
They liked it?
His performance was so uneven.
Boo!
[both] Ah.
I've been around you fuck snots long enough to know
you just tried to sabotage my man with sci-fi.
-It wasn't us! -Prisoner's dilemma, Jesse did it.
Oh, my God, narc much?
Joke's on you. Antoine had a three-year residency
at the Dayton Theater in Ohio.
The Off Broadway of the Midwest?
If you thought this would embarrass him,
you were sorely mistaken.
Mistaken maybe. Sorely, pfft, you wish.
Then how about this?
Because of your little stunt back there,
the quiz is now a test,
and it's worth 99.9% of your grade.
Clock's ticking, fuckle rods.
The only test we're taking has one question.
How will you kill Jesse and Yumyulack?
Yeah, and I hold a GED in fucking you up.
Ah, I think maybe you mean PhD?
Do I? Which one is better?
[both whimpering]
[? dramatic music playing]
What the hell is this? Who the fuck are you?
Where did you buy this wallpaper, and can you send me the link?
You two brutes think you're cute,
taking on this passionfruit.
But my sexy toots are about to make you bitches moot.
Oh, God, you're a rhyming villain. Those are the worst.
No, I was just trying it on for size.
It was too hard to keep up anyway.
Why the hell are you making us horny with your flower stink?
What are you, some kind of sicko?
Wooden City real estate's gotten too hot.
Only way a big old vine like me can make it
is by puttin' my thumb on the scale.
You don't even have any thumbs.
I send my sexy flowers through the air vents
to all the best units in the building.
And once the occupants die of thirst from all the fuckin',
I swoop in and take the apartment as my own.
[passionfruit laughs]
Oh, God, and then I bet you chop up our bodies
and use them for nutrients.
Ew, I'm not a perv!
I just lease out the condos and never return the deposit.
Enjoy shriveling away while I go list my new pied-๏ฟฝ-terre.
I'm going to jack up the rent like you wouldn't believe!
Landlords are the worst thing you can be, you big bitch!
Parent Trapping didn't work,
our bargain bin sci-fi didn't work.
We're gonna have to take this test and get cheese grated, aren't we?
Yeah, but who cares? I've been cheese grated before.
What? Then why have you been so freaked out?
It's more that... [groans]
without sci-fi, who even are we?
My whole identity was wrapped up in that stuff.
I didn't think about it like that.
Pretty glowing.
Damn, Pupa, are you still emitting radiation?
-Get a grip. -He seems so proud of himself,
even though he's breaking us down on a cellular level.
Pupa! Pupa!
That's messed up, Pupa.
Wait, it's not messed up.
He can glow and be weird
because he's a freaky little alien, just like us.
He's melting my space boots.
Don't you see? He doesn't need super contrived,
wildly implausible rays, and neither do we.
I'm not following, but I'm sure you're about to overexplain.
All we have to do to get Miss Frankie and Principal Cooke back together
is to be classic-ass vanilla aliens
like our forefathers used to be!
Come on.
[stammering] What-what the hell?
Silence, human. This is an alien abduction.
Whoever that is, stop hovering over me right now.
-Ow. -[Jesse and Yumyulack cackle]
[rock thumps]
Huh, must have been a micro seizure.
[Jesse] Take us to your leader.
-Who said that? -[Yumyulack] Zap!
[screaming]
[Jesse and Yumyulack cackle]
[Korvo] Of course, this is how we die.
Stupid apartment.
I should have listened to you and just kept it.
Oh, we don't need it.
But what about all your stuff?
I have stuff at home.
Losing this place, I don't know.
I-I guess I was just holding onto the last thing
that made me feel cool.
But, Terry, we're not cool. We're married.
We live in the suburbs with shitty, low-iron replicants.
We watch Food Network in threadbare underpants,
and that's okay.
But will you still be horny for me if I'm a loser?
I don't need an apartment to want to get you out of those T-shirts.
And I've always loved that you're hot and a total dork.
We need to get out of here and be the stay-at-home losers
we were always meant to be.
Damn these vines.
Even now, I'm so lubed up, I can't get a grip.
Wa-wait. We-we could just block the sexy smell
with our sweaty shirts.
[inhales deeply]
Ugh, that's working.
My mound's not tingling anymore.
Me too. I'm actually getting pretty grossed out.
[passionfruit laughs]
Hey, stop huffing your own sweat,
or I'll have to kick your ass old-fashioned style.
Don't think I'm not ready for a big, heavy battle.
Sorry, but we're not worried about being cool anymore.
You like being a lame landlord?
Then enjoy being taken down in the lamest way possible.
[gavel thumps]
[co-op board member] Thank you for bringing this to our attention.
It appears the defendant has broken the building's rules
regarding subletting apartments.
Oh, come on. Nobody reads those rules.
She also leaves bags of trash in the hallway.
For, like, five minutes while I get my keys.
And she killed people.
By a unanimous count, this board votes for expulsion.
-Yeah. -Yay!
This is bullshit!
I wanted a proper alien-on-passionfruit battle
with blood and guts and lasers and shit.
Y'all are losers!
[Miss Frankie] Let us out!
You can't keep us in here.
We know this is some sort of alien simulation.
Oh, nobody else is even in here.
And the other tables are holograms.
[Yumyulack] [on intercom] You will not be released until you fall back in love.
Enjoy the 2012 Oregon pinot!
Oh, God, we already have to deal with aliens
at school and now this?
[scoffs] What are the odds?
Pinot from the northwest is an outrage!
[Miss Frankie sighs]
So... how's your scrotum?
-What do you care? -I never stopped caring.
Then why did you let me walk away?
Because you pushed me away.
After a ball smashing like that, I thought you needed space.
I'm not a mind reader.
I never expected you to be one!
[Mr. Cooke sighs]
This is exactly what was wrong with our relationship.
All we ever did was fight.
I know. Who cared that it was hot?
Hello, me, I cared.
So did I.
Ugh, God, this is so hacky.
Oh, I hate aliens so much.
I hate aliens too.
-Eat my ass. -Take off your pants!
[Miss Frankie and Mr. Cooke moaning]
Here's some spaghetti just like Lady and the Tra...
Oh, God, geez!
It worked, they're back together!
We didn't even need to serve any food.
Dammit, I've been coaxing flavors out of this risotto all day.
Ah, who cares? Now, we'll never have to take another test again.
[school bell rings]
What the hell is this?
I thought you and Cooke got back together.
Yeah, and that you wouldn't care about teaching good anymore.
Oh, we got kidnapped by some other, more classic-looking aliens
who rekindled our true passion,
being miserable dicks together.
[? ominous music playing]
[gulps] Oh, no.
I'm back, bitches!
Oh, you don't like your wittle test?
-Good! My office... now! -[Miss Frankie gasps]
Um, does this still count for 99% of our grade?
It counts for 140%.
Fuck yeah!
Wait, no, that's more!
What a glorious day it is.
Why are you two so happy? Didn't you have to take a test?
Yeah, which we've never done before.
We always got 'em canceled.
Which is why we didn't know that we're geniuses!
Whoa, plot twist. Full points and extra cred?
A-pluses seem suspicious from you two.
Did you cheat with sci-fi?
We couldn't use sci-fi, so we did something crazy.
We tried for the first time, and we did so well
it makes us want to actually study.
Now, instead of being alien troublemakers,
we're rebranding as tryhard smart kids!
And the Stacis cheated off us too,
a whole new way to get exploited.
Pupa, don't swallow the whole cooling rod.
It has to last. That thing was expensive.
So you sold the Wooden City apartment then?
Nope, we had 54,000 orgasms and almost died
and decided to rent it instead.
Ew, so you guys are landlords now?
That is the lamest thing you could possibly be!
-You're losers. -[both] We know.
Wow, lots of lessons being learned today.
Maybe even some character growth.
How about you, JK Sevens?
[mournful beeps]
-Aw, sorry, maybe next time. -[phone chimes]
Oh, oh, yes, someone just rented the apartment for three weeks!
Cha-ching.
Who the hell is horny enough to want it for that long?
[Miss Frankie and Principal Cooke moaning]
[Miss Frankie] Oh, my God, I can feel my entire baby maker,
all the way to the inner stuff.
[both grunt]
[Miss Frankie] What is with this apartment?
-[Mr. Cooke] [garbled] I don't know. -[Miss Frankie] Oh.
[? dramatic music playing]
[mimicking laser fire]
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