All language subtitles for Scorpion - 04x04 - Nuke Kids on the Block.Plutonium.English.orig.Addic7ed.com

Previously on Scorpion...

I'm sorry. Who are you?

I'm Patty,
Alderman Dodd's intern.

I'd left extra shortbreads
for your team,

but they were such a hit,
I need all of them

to grease the wheels
of the government.

Your loss, Doc.
They were scrumptious.

Ralph doesn't like shortbread.

Yeah, but he sure likes her.

Agent Gallo, you're under arrest
for instigating an escape.

I want a lawyer.

You put Scorpion
up as collateral?

The garage, everything?

It was either that or
leave you in prison.

So, counselor,

you've reviewed
Agent Gallo's case.

How would you approach
his defense?

This case isn't
about Agent Gallo.

It's about sticking it
to the government.

So...

thank you for coming in.

You had an offer
for three years?

Oh.

Well, you should've taken that.

Trials are stressful.

No injuries at all?

All that ice,
never slipped once?

Norwegian government's
got deep pockets.

You know, it's been many years
since I tried any cases,

but I'm confident
I could try this one and win.

And the price is certainly right.

Oh, uh, sorry, got a ride.

No, don't go. We're
just getting started.

We'll get you home,
no problem.

Oh, you don't understand.
I drive for a rideshare.

And there's no way I'm
giving up an airport run.

I don't care.

We don't plea.

My client's not doing
a day in prison.

Sorry.

It's walk or nothing.

Call me when you're ready
to drop the charges.

My apologies,
gentlemen, I'm...

Oh. Oh, you can't afford me.

Well,

that's two weeks down the tubes.

Nothing to show
for a lawyer for Cabe.

We need a great one

if we're going to prove
that Cabe isn't responsible

for Collins escaping.

None of these jokers
get what's at stake.

No one cares like we do.

I care... about
getting things done.

Hey, Patty.

We have business.

My office?

"Her office"?

I better go.

She angers easily.

Guys, we're gonna
find a lawyer.

If you stay positive,
stay present,

the future will
take care of itself.

Which could be 25
in Leavenworth.

That wasn't positive. Oh!

Here is some positivity.

We're gonna get churros
from L.A. Churro Fest.

We can't afford them.

You went to Churro Fest 2017,

didn't get a single
deep-fried treat?

Well,
we did buy a single one.

We went foursies on it.

Yep.

We've been going foursies
on a lot of things lately.

Diagnostics on the 3-D printing
are almost done.

We are good to go
on the Air Force gig.

Let's pack up.

At least we had
a-a nice little date

before the daily grind.

Mm.

You disagree?

We may define the word
"date" differently.

I see it as the two of us,

a restaurant,
a bottle of wine...

I see it as that, too.

But if the recent past
is any indicator,

Happy would be
at the table with us.

Well...

not necessarily.
Really?

'Cause last week, she came
with us to the science museum;

Saturday, the arboretum;

last night she watched Fletch
with us in the garage,

after everyone else left.

Well, I-I guess
we're just, uh, fun.

Yeah. I guess I-I'm confused why
she's third-wheeling so much,

and where I'm
really lost is why

you're okay with it.

Mm, I don't know. I... just am.

I'm gonna talk to her about it.

Oh, no. Bad idea.

Well, I'll speak to her
adult to adult.

I know her.

She won't react well.

Okay, see, now you're protecting
her feelings over mine.

Do you not...
do you not see this?

I see that now.

We'll discuss it. Later.

I've been pouring
over the statutes

for community
program funding,

after-school program funding.
I even did a search

for subterranean windowless
space program funding.

Doesn't exist.

I was joking.

It's unbecoming. Continue.

We should be
able to draw

from four different earmarks

in order to attain
our $6,000 science club budget.

This may hold up.

I'll submit to the board
after school.

Speaking of which,
I've never had a tardy before,

and I'm not starting now.
And you're not starting now.

Can you at least admit
that you're impressed

that I'm progressing
as a politician?

I'll be impressed
when we're fumigating.

Hey, Patty.

Yep.

Really don't like
this development.

Happy.

You have a moment to talk?

Yeah. About
the drive-in tonight?

I was thinking we should
bring our own snacks,

considering our finances.

We've been having a lot
of fun lately, haven't we?

Yeah, it's been all right.

So, maybe, tonight,
you can take a rain check,

and Walt and I just go
to the drive-in alone.

Huh?
We've been doing

a lot of activities together
these past few weeks.

Right.

It's just for one night.

I mean, Walt and I
just started dating,

so alone time
is important.

Sure. I-I'm good.

Enjoy the movie.

We-we can still do
the Farmer's Market on Saturday.

Can't. My schedule's full.

Happy, come on.

We are good to go,
we can hit the road!

If I'm still invited.

Long drive to the jobsite.

Saddle up.

Just-- don't say it.

Nothing to say.

Except for "I told you so."

Look at over there.

It's the spot.

Just being in proximity to one
of these things creeps me out.

Team Scorpion?

In the flesh.

Airman Jay Pendergraft.

Welcome to nuclear missile silo
B21-240J.

Pretty name.

Uh, let's
get rolling.

A few on our team
have a movie to catch.

This way.

Save you, Agent Gallo.

Word from base is you're under
suspension from Homeland.

That's correct,

but according to federal law,

government employees
on suspension

can take freelance work
from other government agencies,

provided they don't
have any felony convictions.

Scorpion are freelance
contractors.

Mr. Gallo is an employee
of Scorpion.

He's our intern.

And a
necessary team member.

Without him, we leave.

I'll run it by base.

Intern?
Mm-hmm.

Even made you a badge.

"Junior Intern."

That's great.

Base described
your job here as twofold:

inspect the Boreas 3 and replace
all corroded hardware

with new 3-D printed
replacements.

- And upgrade the launch software.
- It sounds like

we're prepping it for war.

I thought they were
being decommissioned.

Well, we have to make sure
that they're physically

and internally stable
before they're shut down.

Or they don't shut down
properly.

And go kaboomski.

A terrifying thought.

Just like this elevator.

It seems very old.

Everything was new here
in 1980.

Most of the companies that built
the missile and the silo

are long out of business,

or we'd be ordering
replacement parts from them

instead of having you
print them up.

1980, I was 22 years old.

I was negative 17.

My God.

Team Scorpion, Airman Jacobs.

Airman, Cabe Gallo.

Geez. 60 megatons
of nuclear destruction

controlled by a computer
with less power than a Pac-Man.

Just two of you on call?

It doesn't take much
to babysit this dinosaur.

All right, Happy, Sly and I
will head to the missile

and begin the software update.

The first step
is to access

the warhead firmware panel,

and then, create
a link from the missile

to our computers in here,

then, begin uploading
the new software.

Any corroded parts we find--
screws, latches--

in the firmware
panel itself,

we'll call in specs to Paige,
Toby and Cabe to begin printing.

Okay, let's move out.

Airman, can you show us
the way, please?

You might need to run out
and get us some lattes.

You know,
being the intern and all.

You ever had your butt
kicked by a junior intern?

Once.

Oof.

That's a lot of missile.

Just keep your eyes

in front of you, Sly.
You'll be fine.

Thank you, Paige.
No more distractions, please.

Okay, make sure it's flush

to prevent anything
from falling in-between

the walkway and the fuselage.

Yeah, copy that.

Once you're
into the panel,

it won't take
long to patch in

and relay to the control center.

Understood.

Aye, aye. Waiting.

Already bored.

Your tours are just
72 hours of this?

Yeah. And this is exciting.

Rusted bolt snapped.

Got to replace it. Sly?

Half-inch bolt diameter.

Shouldn't he use a caliper?

No. I got it.

It's starting to print now.

So what, just like,
day shift, night shift,

day shift, night shift,

day shift...

And night shift again. Yes.

It's like that song, uh,
"Nightshift" by the Commodores.

Commodores?

Were any of the members
Naval officers?

Oh, guys. Come on.
You don't know the Commodores?

Well, prepare to have your minds
musically blown.

You want to know

what I think of
when I think of the Commodores?

Harmonious interaction.

Horns, vocals,

drums, bass, guitars,
all working together.

Tight-knit group.

Worked out great.

Actually, there have been

many members of the Commodores.

Probably because
some of them got sick

of the others
always hanging around.

Paige, I need to swap out
for a one-inch wrench.

Is it okay if Walter
passes that to me,

or is that too intrusive?

Guys, can we save this
till later, please?

And also,
comms off for five minutes

while everyone cools down.

My pleasure.

For the record, she's the one
who's being ridiculous.

Uh, rocket fuel leak.

Extremely not good.
We got to get the hell

out of this silo--
the fumes are gonna kill us all.

Grab the gear.

What the hell?
The door's locked!

Oh, the comms are off.

They can't hear us.

How can they not hear the alarm?

♪ Lady ♪

♪ You bring me up
when I'm down ♪

Toby, this is very loud.

He does not represent the team.

Don't listen to him,
he's not full-time.

All right, you see this move?

♪ Gonna change my life
around, yeah ♪

1982, that move alone
could cause pregnancy.

♪ Pretty lady ♪
♪ You brought me in... ♪

Uh-oh. Oh, crap.

Walter, what's going on?

Guys, open the door now!
Why would they seal?

Fuel pressure's bottoming out.

Okay, I dropped the wrench

and punctured the tank,
and now it's leaking fuel.

Somebody get us out of here
before the vapor kills us

or the fuel's ignited!

The slightest spark
could do that.

Working on the door override.

Well, you better
work faster, kid,

unless you have protocol
for a fuel tank eruption.

Uh, no, we don't.

It's open.

If the fuel tank blows,

does that mean
the warhead blows, too?

We don't know.
This has never happened before.

♪ Scorpion 4x04 ♪
Nuke Kids on the Block
Original Air Date on October 1

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Okay, I screwed us up,
so I will unscrew us.

I don't understand how
a simple wrench

punches a hole
in a nuclear weapon.

They're made
light and thin

so they fly faster,
and it's ancient,

so it's degraded.

I'm running some
quick calculations

based on the proximity
to small towns and cities.

If this warhead goes off,
it's millions dead?

That's where it begins.

Okay, Air Force are
on their way

with a fuel team to handle

the leak and vapor issue.

ETA?
Four hours.

We'll be dead well before then.

Uh, hey, you got eggs
in that fridge?

Um, yeah.

She's going somewhere with this.

I think.

Why is help
four hours away?

Well, an old rust pit like this

isn't exactly high on the
Air Force's priority list.

Well, what if the
fuel tank just empties?

If we're careful about sparks,

- it won't just blow up, right?
- Wrong.

This is your,
uh, fuel tank emptying.

Uh, which is bad.
What's worse is

the oxidizer tank
on top of it.

The more fuel that
leaves the bottom tank,

the more its integrity
is compromised,

and eventually,
it won't be able to support

the oxidizer on top, and...

Death omelet.
Make sure to wash your hands.

So drain the oxidizer, too.

The nitro tetroxide will ignite

the second it hits those vapors.

Okay, but this control center
is meant

to withstand a rocket launch.

I mean, it can handle
a fuel explosion.

Let's disarm the warhead
and just ride it out.

No. Accessing the detonation
system with our metal tools

could cause a spark
and ignite the fumes.

We'd only need a wrench.

We can make a polymer one

from the 3-D printer--
it's sparkless.

In a perfect world,
but those tanks will collapse

before you get
the warhead disarmed.

Shut those damn
Klaxons down.

Anything that old could spark
and kill us all.

Well, what now?

The rocket fuel gauge is
dropping dangerously low.

Okay, issue number one--
stopping the fuel leak.

Now, we can 3-D print
a plug that,

once inserted into the puncture,

expands like an umbrella,
fully blocking the leak,

and the polymer printing
material will withstand

the fuel's corrosion long enough
for the Air Force fuel team

to arrive from the base.

We can't replace it
without protective suits.

You guys have that?

We have suits we can fortify
but only so much.

After enough exposure,

those vapors will dissolve
the materials and kill you.

I'll get one.

The metal doors leading into
the silo are also spark risks.

You just came in those doors.

The vapor hadn't risen
to where we were yet.

Now it's permeated through
the entire silo.

The access door on the second
level is rubberized

and spark-safe for fuel techies.

That sounds like the beginning
of a death omelet.

And that's issue number two--
shoring up the fuel tanks

so the oxidizer doesn't
collapse it and kill us all.

Adding an inert gas to the fuel

will help maintain
its integrity.

You guys have a supply
of radon, helium?

Uh, there's an artist warehouse
off the highway,

ten minutes from here.

They make neon signs.
The place is all lit up.

Okay, neon gas works.

Okay, me, Happy, and Doc
will go get that.

So, to print the plug,
we need an accurate

measurement of the rupture,

but we can't bring in
a camera, a phone--

anything metal
that could cause a spark.

So the measurement will
have to be eyeballed

by a genius with the talent
to memorize dimensions.

Wonderful.

We need to
shore up the Hazmat suit

so vapor can't get in,
or you will die.

Every opening sealed,

gloves and helmet duct-taped
for extra protection.

Finally, the oxygen tank,
so you can breathe.

You've got to move fast, Sly.

We don't know how long
you'll have

before the suit's compromised.

Okay, Sly, good to go.

Thumbs up?

I have to pee.

Don't be so hard on yourself.

- I'm not.
- Yeah, you are.

You dropped a wrench.

Even Michael Jordan missed
the occasional free throw.

Missing a free throw
never detonated

a nuclear warhead.

As far as we know.

Hey, I got some movie tickets
to the Glendora drive-in.

I did notice how bummed you were

when the waitress
disinvited you,

and I figure we could go,
just us.

I'm not bummed,
and I don't want to go.

Come on.

You and me, provided we prevent
this nuclear explosion.

Okay, which we are nowhere near
pulling off because I blew it.

I got weak and emotional,

and it's all because
that waitress came to Scorpion.

If Walter hadn't hired her,

I would not be
feeling things right now.

I wouldn't have gotten upset
over that stupid drive-in,

I wouldn't have lost focus,

and I wouldn't have
dropped that wrench.

So Walt hiring Paige
three and a half years ago

made you drop that wrench today?

That's interesting logic.

Why do you want
to be human, anyway?

Being human sucks.

She's ruined all of us.

Well, if she hadn't made us
feel and be more human,

then you would have
never married me.

I mean, she is the reason
we're together.

That is a good thing, right?

Right?

Guys, this is bad.

The fuel is rushing out.

The fuel, whose vapors
can eat through my suit.

Plug design is prepared,

and comms are patched
into the speakers.

Sly, the sooner we get
the specs on that rupture,

the sooner you get out of there.

Getting closer.

You have family?

She's wearing
a hospital bracelet.

She had a circulation
issue when she was born.

That picture was taken
after we got home

from follow-up surgery.

She's doing great now.

You'll see them again.

Best calculation
for the rupture is

14.68 inches circumference,

which I am basing on the memory
of similarly circumferenced

dodgeballs that I was
routinely beaned with

in middle school.

Coming back out.

He's really our best hope?

So you need all this for
some kind of refrigerant?

That's what our boss
from Homeland Security told us.

We're just following orders.

Now, let's get the last tank.

See, old me could care
less about this neon yutz.

New me, Mrs. Feelings,
is screaming inside

because he should be running
away from here as far as he can.

Well, okay, yeah,
but you tell him,

he's gonna tell ten others,
who'll pass it on

and cause a panic.

And then maybe die
driving off in a rush

when we're gonna fix this.
Or not.

She's angrier than usual.

It's just textbook
projection.

She has guilt
for dropping the wrench,

and she's picked Paige
to blame for it.

Let's go, ladies!

Better Paige than us.

Copy that, Toby.

They're a few miles out,
will be here soon.

We'll help unload the tanks.

Plug is finished.

We'll need 20 feet of hose
to connect the neon tanks

to the coupler and...

two Hazmat suits
for me and Paige.

Supply closet's down the hall.

Be right out.

It'll, uh... It'll just be
me and you in there.

Alone, dressed
in fancy suits.

Be like a fun date.

Again, I think
we define "date" differently.

Hoses locked.

All right, neon's
all hooked up here.

Walt?
Connected.

Okay.

When the plug's in
place, we'll give the signal.

Sounds like breakfast
is cooking.

No death omelet.
We're gonna get this done.

Guys, double-time.

It's stuck.
I-I got it.

Go back inside, your suit is
failing around your neck.

It's fine, we're
almost done.

If it ruptures,
the fumes will kill you.

I've got this.
Go inside now.

Okay, just hurry.
Okay.

It's in.
I'm deploying the plug.

Leak stopped.
Happy, the neon.

Here goes nothing.

- You okay?
- Yeah.

Pressure's coming back up.

It's still creaking.

It's a good creaking.

The structure
is regaining integrity.

Well, then come back
to the control room.

It's dangerous as hell in there.

Okay. On my way.

Walter!

What the hell was that?

The vapor must have compromised
the platform.

It gave way and Walter fell.

He's knocked out.

His head's in a pool of fuel

at the bottom of the silo.
Walter!

That fuel is gonna go
through his suit

like acid.
He's got three minutes, tops.

I'm going back in. Sly, tape up
around my neck fast.

Paige, you'll need an extra
pair of hands down there.

I'll suit up.

Uh, too late. Sorry, Cabe,
only one suit left

and it fits me.

Paige and I are strong enough
to drag out one skinny nerd,

unless it's weird. You and me,
Walt together.

I know you don't like that.
This time it's fine.

There's one
problem. He fell to level one,

but the door on that level
isn't rubberized.

If you try to access
the silo from there...

Then it sparks, blammo.

So we lower something
down from level two.

We fish him out.

No, a hook or a harness
could tear Walt's suit.

So we got to choose
between a tear or a spark.

It's pretty crappy options.
Damn right.

I vote for none
of the above.

We don't rip the suit

and we open the door
without causing a spark.

Explain.

We could treat the door
like a runway.

In emergency landings,
they foam the runway

to prevent sparks or fires.

It works, sometimes.

Make it work this time.

Okay, I-I'm gonna need baking
soda, vinegar and dish soap.

Come on, guys.

All right,
that should do it.

Now go get our boy.

Cabe, Toby,
get out of there now.

As soon as I remotely open
the blast door,

deadly vapors are coming out.

Do it now, Sly.

I'm gonna.
Now!

Forgive me if I am tentative,

but if this foam
doesn't prevent a spark,

then we're all dead.

If we don't go in now,
Walt's dead!

Walter!

We got you, pal!

Okay, take his other arm.
Okay.

On three.
One, two, three.

Ah, pull harder.

Did it eat
through his suit?

If it had,
he'd be dead already,

and Sleeping Beauty
is just waking up.

Walter.

We got you. It's okay.

- Sign says "no swimming," boss.
- Hey, come on.

Walter, are you okay?

Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay.

I'm okay.

You guys are a good team.

Strategic Air Command has been
updated on our status.

Fuel teams are two hours out.

Plug's holding up.

That thing's tougher
than a two-dollar steak.

Patty?

We could not be
in a worse situation.

Uh, I can think of one.

Well, you better think

of a new way to fund
the science club

because our proposal
was just rejected.

What?

It was a rock-solid plan.

Can't allocate
from a budget of zero.

There is no money left.

Finance subcommittee
just broke the news.

So, come up with a plan B.

Uh... I-I'm kind of
in the middle of something.

Do you need a lecture
on priorities?

You're an alderman.
Act like one.

How do you act like an alderman?

Council session ends at 7:00.
Be there.

Uh, guys,

a little problem here.

Pressure readings
in the fuel tank are way off.

Neon alone would not create
pressure this high.

Why would there be
anything other than neon

in a neon shop's tanks?

Well, neon in signs
is often mixed

with other inert gases
like argon and xenon

to create various colors.

So, if the shop owner

accidentally gave you
a premixed tank...

The additional molecular mass
of the second inert gas

could increase the pressure
up to tenfold!

What the hell
does that mean?

- Stopper blew.
- Our eggs are scrambled.

The rupture has almost
doubled in size!

Fuel is pouring out
twice as fast.

No way to plug it now.

Walter, what do we do?
I don't know.

I'm just the intern,

but it's your damn job
to know.

I have an idea.

But no one's
gonna like it.

I like the idea of
exploding even less.

Funny you should
mention explosions

because our only chance
of survival is to trigger one.

Now, we need to blow the fuel
tanks and launch the warhead.

Just so we're clear,
guy with the 197 IQ

wants to blow up a nuke?
Not blow it up. Eject it.

Did that fuel
boil your brain?

You spent the past half hour
saying an explosion is bad.

Yes, but now that we know
one is inevitable,

we need to make it useful
instead of deadly.

I think I follow you.

If we blow it with too much fuel
in the silo,

it won't matter
if the warhead

isn't armed because
the force of the blast

will trigger
a-a nuclear reaction.

And if there's too little fuel
causing an oxidizer collapse...

Then the warhead falls into a fiery pit
and we get the same outcome.

But if we siphon out enough fuel
from the base of the silo...

It'll loosen the warhead and
remove it from the missile.

Then we remotely open
the exterior hatch,

causing a spark
to initiate an explosion

that we've designed
to be the perfect size.

So we get an unarmed warhead

that shoots out
like a cork gun, harmless.

Assuming this works, how will we
know where the warhead ends up?

Uh, we won't exactly.

Airman, what is
the safe landing zone?

All desert and uninhabited hills
for 30 miles around the silo.

Factoring that
into my equation

to keep the warhead
within range.

What about the neon guy?

Well, he's four miles away,
so the force of the blast

will carry this thing ten miles,
go right over him.

Since the nuke
won't be armed,

once it's located,
the Air Force techs

are gonna have all the time in
the world to dispose of it.

If the fuel tank pressure
falls into the hot zone, then...

...boom. At this rate,
we have four minutes.

I'll get to work
loosening the warhead.

Looks like I'll have to 3-D
print those wrenches after all.

I'll need help in there.

Walter and I are
already suited up.

Oh, crap, there's only
enough polymer left

to print one wrench.
We need three.

Okay, then we share it.

Uh, Toby, Cabe,

head to the valve room
and start siphoning fuel

from the bottom of the silo.

There's a safe storage basin
on a sublevel.

You can drain
the fuel into that.

Great. Sly, how much
should we siphon out?

I'm working on the numbers.
Stay tuned.

Okay, Paige, you're up.

Here, Walter.

The warhead is
almost disengaged. Cabe?

All right. Good to go, Doc.

Let her rip.

Thar she flows.

Fuel is being sucked
into the pump

and out into the storage basin.

I got the number.
1,502 gallons.

That's the amount of fuel
we need to siphon out.

Any more, any less,

we're goners. Now keep your eye
on that gauge.

Okay. Now, assuming
my fuel math is right,

the curvature of the warhead

underside edges
is shaped perfectly

to ride the blast energy that
will be concentrated beneath it.

That's it.

I found my solution.

For the nuke?

No. For the West Altadenia
Science Club.

Uh, guys,

we are 30 seconds from trouble.
Please tell me you're done.

Just loosening up
the final bolts.

Okay.

Good to go. Now.

Great. Get out of there.

Cabe, Toby,
how's that fuel doing?

And... finito. Cut it.

Okay, Sly,
we're ready down here.

Readying hatch for breach.

20 seconds.

Good job.

All three of us,
one wrench. Not easy.

For what it's worth...

...I'm really glad
we came together in there,

all three of us.

Right, but the truth is

you two do pretty well
on your own, also.

I should've been aware that
that was important to you.

I guess I like hanging
around you guys.

Don't know why.

Thank you.

I'm not sure
that was a compliment.

Opening exterior
hatch now.

Should spark any second.

Please tell me that's
not what I think it is.

It is.

Well... it worked?

I can't believe it. We're safe!

Not exactly.

There's that tone.

I hate that tone.

Prior to the explosion,

the warhead timer was triggered.

Okay, by what?

The vapor. It must have
corroded the circuit board

and compromised the warhead.

So, we just launched

a live nuke somewhere
into a 30-mile radius

and it's gonna detonate
in 20 minutes.

No.

19 and a half.

Countdown status?
18 minutes, 32 seconds.

Ah, I can see the headlines.

"Millions Incinerated by
a Crack Team of Geniuses

and Their Crusty Intern."

Zip it. What's the play?

There is no way
to kill the timer remotely.

We can't disarm a nuke
we can't find.

Satellite imagery.
No time.

How about a map?

Oh, you mean the
one that tells us

exactly where an '80s-era
warhead with no GPS is located?

That's a great idea.

See, this is why you're
never gonna get promoted.

No, a map in the sky.

Our stopper blew because
we accidentally mixed neon

with other gases, right?

So we check
security footage,

and we look for that big old
neon streak in the sky

when that sucker launched!
Cabe?

You may have a future
in this company after all.

I'm pulling up
security footage from the front gate.

Come on, come on.

There! The purple neon arc.

Okay. It's a... exit
angle of 52 degrees...

headed north by northeast.
Object mass,

velocity of the pressure wave,
factoring in

the gravity constant...

Okay, I got it.
Got the location.

How much time?!

31 seconds
till this thing blows!

This blows!

All of you, stay back!

Come on, genius,
you got us into this.

Think.

What are you guys doing?

Get back!
We're staying right here.

Just think of us as an extra
seven wheels of support.

- You got this.
- Besides,

it's a nuclear blast,
it doesn't matter

where we stand.

16 seconds. Come on, Happy.

15, 14,

13, oh, God!

Okay, shut up, we can all count.

Come on...

Sweetheart, it doesn't look like
you know what you're doing.

Eight.
You know, actually, seven,

because when I said "Oh, God,"
that took a second.

Oh, God, we're down
to three, two, one!

What the...?

How...?

How'd you do that?

Pulled the battery.

Puppy can't blow without power.

You know, o-our job
was to decommission the nuke,

and technically,
that's decommissioned, so, um...

we'll send you our bill.

Airman Pendergraft,

I assume the Air Force
can wrap all this up.

I have someplace to be
and I can't be late.

It's really stress-inducing.

What could be
more stressful than this?

Where were you?

You have less than three minutes
before the session ends.

- We were busy.
- Alderman Dodd.

Glad you could find time
to join us.

Sorry, I was at work.

City government
is work as well.

And you're late.

Not me. Never had a tardy.

Uh, I understand that there
are a few minutes left.

I'd like to talk about saving
the science club.

That's been settled.
There's no money in the budget.

There will be.

Once we put a hat

on every lamppost
in West Altadenia.

You see, if we use

a reflective surface for the
underside of each conical cover,

not unlike the shape of the
bottom of a nuclear warhead,

then, electric light,

that our city pays for,
that currently and wastefully

shines up into the night sky,

will be redirected
back down to the streets.

We will yield
the same brightness

using bulbs of half the wattage.

Citywide,

that's an energy savings
of over $250,000 annually.

And we only need $6,000
for the science club.

Actually, this could work.

Mr. Dodd, you seem to really
care about this science club.

I do.
I do care.

Oh, my gosh, I do care.

I got to go.

Now, that's how you act
like an alderman.

I want to be your attorney.

You want to what?

He inhaled too much vapor.

Sylvester, you're not
an attorney.

Not yet.
I looked it up:

Vermont lets you take
the bar exam

even if you never went
to law school.

You pass, you're licensed.

Then, since it's
a federal case,

all I got to do is get
sworn in by the federal bar.

Okay. Speaking of the bar,
how do you plan on passing?

Well, actually, he does
have perfect recall.

With adequate preparation,
Sly would ace it.

I've got 48 hours.

The bar exam's in two days?

Kid, do you even know
how extensive

the bar exam is?

You got to know criminal law,

criminal procedure...

Contracts, evidence...

Real property, torts...

It's a five hour flight.
It'll be plenty of time.

Come on, guys.

I see solutions
when others don't.

I just convinced
a dais of bureaucrats

to change the way
they light their city

to save a science program
because I cared.

Toby, you said
so yourself:

we will never find a lawyer
that cares about Cabe

as much as we do.

Well, I care about Cabe.

And I will scour every law book

and memorize every archaic
regulation to protect him.

I can do this.

With all of our
research capabilities

and our brain power,
we can do this.

Together.

Is the kid getting good
at speeches or what?

Somebody get my lawyer
a ticket to Montpelier.

I'm on it.

Okay, darling,
what do you say

we get out of this dusty
garage and head home?

Uh, yeah, in a few.

I just want to organize
my workstation a bit.

Happy, they're not gonna
invite you along tonight.

Yeah.

I know.

I don't want to go
anywhere with them, anyway.

I've seen a lot of them lately.

Okay, one, you do want
to go along with them.

And two, no I-I'm
actually not hurt

that you don't want
to spend time

with your brand-new,
shiny husband.

Do you want to know why?

No.

Because your being drawn
to Walter, Paige and Ralph

is perfectly logical.

You spent your childhood
yearning for a nuclear family,

and now, every single day,
you see a mother figure

and a father figure and a child.

It soothes a
very wounded

part of your psyche
to be with them.

That's perfectly okay.

But now that you know
why you were doing it,

and Paige is making
you feel more things,

and that's good, and...

maybe you could just
ease off a little bit.

I want a baby.

Okay.

I was thinking
Kovelsky's, but...

I want a baby.

Soon.

Okay, you were right.

I want a family.
I've always wanted a family.

And I want one with you,
'cause I love you.

But... the woman
who hates being human

wants to make another human?

Yeah, something like that.

Shall we start now?

Uh, not-not-not here,

not in front of everyone.

Right, yeah.

Let's go.

Hey, go get your coat so I can
take you to the sitter's. Okay?

Now that we
have a moment,

I would like
to confess something to you.

Okay.

I didn't encourage Happy
to hang out with us

because I liked it so much.

Uh, yeah, she is one of
my best friends, but, uh,

I would prefer
one-on-one time with you.

I just-- I didn't want you to...

...think otherwise.

Okay, I appreciate the honesty.

But if you preferred being with
just me, then why didn't...?

I'm nervous
to be alone with you.

You've been alone with me
hundreds of times.

Wh-What could you possibly
be nervous about?

My biggest fear

is being in a restaurant,
droning on about genius things,

and then looking up at your
face, and then seeing boredom.

I-It happens after a few
weeks of every relationship

that I've been in.

And then they end.

And, uh...

I don't want this one to end.

Walter.

We are not a few weeks
into our relationship.

We are three years in.
I know you.

Okay?

And I have an idea of a place
where we can go have dinner,

and you don't have to worry
about seeing boredom on my face.

Okay,

so, uh, what's your big plan?

You'll see.

Ladies and gentlemen,

your sensory experience
is about to begin.

See you later, Walter.
Huh?

What's going on?

You said you were worried
about looking across the table

and seeing a bored look
on my face?

Well, here, you won't
have that problem.

You eat without seeing, in order
to enhance the other senses.

Paige, that is very thoughtful,
but this is ridiculous.

See, uh, this is a gimmick

most likely to mask
the mediocre food.

Just give it a chance.

Good evening!
Oh!

We will begin with a selection

of locally sourced
root vegetables

served with mayonnaise
three ways.

Mayonnaise has more
than one way?

Still or effervescent, sir?

Uh, tap's fine.

First of all, mayonnaise
only comes one way.

Second of all, "effervescent"?

Pretentious.

Third of all,
I guarantee you that our waiter

is a hipster doofus

with a logging camp beard
and a man bun.

Sir, I'm still here.

I thought you went to get water.

I have the water.
I was ready to pour,

but you were
still talking, so...

Oh.

- Okay. Well, let me help you out here.
- Okay.

I got it-- I'm sorry.

Oh! Oh, God!

God!
Sir!

Oh...

What's going on here?

I-- I could use a napkin.

I can't believe
that just happened.

I think I have three different
kinds of mayonnaise on me.

For the record,

that waiter looked exactly
as I described him.

For the record,
I could never get bored of you.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man