Original subtitles

[music playing]

Guys, see the bubbles on the screen?

And we just ran over shields on your now.

[yowl]

[music playing]

Olimpemate, my favorite.

Alright, Nicole, are you looking for a boyfriend or

just a good time?

Definitely a boyfriend.

Wrong answer.

[laughing]

Same question.

Oh yeah!

[laughing]

If only we met on a dating show.

What?

What the hell is this?

It's the credit card, Bill.

What, you lose the ability to read?

Let me know when you lose the ability to open your

mouth and spew venom.

'Cause that, I don't want to miss.

Cut the crap.

What was going through the brain of yours when you

decided it was okay to run up over 30,000 cronies on

our credit card?

Thorny to burst your bubble, honey, but you're

yelling at the wrong guy.

I didn't do it.

Oh really?

Afromuff.com, voracious mixins, chicks gone wild, 55,423,

case of hand lotion, ass waxing.

Oh, wait, that was mine.

50,000 cronies and gambling sites to complete my

favorite Martian DVD box at season two.

It wasn't me. You're the one with the thing for Bill

Bixby.

I liked him in courtship with his father and now I

got a thing for him.

I knew it was you.

No one else has access.

[laughing]

With this credit card, I'm living large, baby. I'm

living large.

So, what do you feel like watching tonight?

Little oral fanny or children of the cornhole?

[groaning]

All right, fine, fine, fine. We'll rent another chick

flick.

How about Gladiator? You happy now?

No one would give you a credit card. How can you

charge it?

Well, I hacked into Darth Bobo's computer and stole

his identity.

His password was "I hate Bernice." I mean, how

obvious was that?

What a rookie. I got his drivers license, social

security numbers, three different credit cards,

his gym membership, hell to the universe.

I'm pretty much him, but handsome, of course.

This isn't right.

You won't need there is a freaking sex bot having a

conscience,

but I put up with that, don't I? Hey, hey, hey,

anybody else want in on this?

Yeah, my mother warned me not to marry you.

For once, your mother and I agreed.

Just shut up and take care of these charges or else.

Or else what? You gonna force me to sleep with you?

'Cause there aren't enough blindfolds, a little blue

pill in the universe to make that happen.

[phone ringing]

Thank you for calling. This is Abu Smith. How is it

best that I might help you?

I'd like to inquire about some strange charges on my

bill.

I am being so sorry. I cannot be giving out that

delicate information

unless you are the person to whom I am speaking.

What the hell does that mean?

It is being most imperative that you are calling from

your home phone number.

This is my home phone number.

What the hell's going on?

I am being so sorry, but I cannot be answering that

either.

What's my home number if this isn't it?

Sheld.

This thing a lot of full cups size.

Is there such a thing as too much of a bad thing?

I've always wanted to order something out of the back

of comic books, but never had the money.

What a waste. You should have got extra glasses or

sea monkeys.

What you got, Goss?

You bought a vibrator?

Please. It's a neck massager.

Well then, Tanook needs an anatomy lesson 'cause she's

been confused in her neck with her...

Sad! My credit card, will ya?

What?

Don't deny it. I don't love your little identity

theft scheme.

And you are gonna pay.

No, no, no. See, that's the beauty of it. You're

gonna have to pay.

He's right in front of us. Force fields up.

Relax. I'm not gonna fire on you. I need a punishment

that fits the crime.

Like Faye, taking control of your ship.

He's bluffing. That would be impossible.

He would need the password to gain access.

And there's no way you could know your mother's

maiden name.

She told me herself. Screamed it as she reached Borgathum.

You had sex with Grandma McGillicuddy?

Double L. Double D?

Call, like, is there another way?

Bob, change the password. I repeat, change the

password.

You're too late.

Oh, talk to me. Tell me we're all right.

Are you kidding? You're in a world of hurt.

Holy crap. You've turned Bob into Bernice.

I couldn't resist the little identity theft of my own.

Your little scheme may cost me a few bucks,

but it's gonna cost you your sanity.

And your wives.

Hey asswipes, the ship will self-destruct in ten

minutes,

which is a long time considering it's seven minutes

longer than sex with my husband.

Okay, relax. Everybody, relax.

Good.

Now how the hell are we gonna get the new password

and stop the self-destruct sequence?

According to my calculations, we can rest control the

computer from Bobo

by penetrating the mainframe at the ship's core

and using an intricate hypothetical mathematical

equation,

circumvent the password and reset the operating

system.

Blah, blah, blah. Anyone else get something that won't

bore us to tears?

Anyone, anyone at all?

We can use my gun. The inshrink-erator, it can shrink

anything to any size.

Like your brain to the size of a pea?

Oh wait, you need an enlargerator to pull that off.

No, really. We could get in a shuttle, shrink

ourselves down,

enter Darf's body and extract a new password from his

brain.

Hmm, let's see.

I need to choose between the highly logical technical

plan that Six has come up with

and a plan that depends on a ricketing gadget from

the back of a comic book.

Sorry Six, this is too important to trust to math.

Besides, there's no way a guy can resist shiny high-tech

gizmos.

Very sure.

Oh yeah, us guys love high technology.

I have always wondered what it would be like to be

inside a man.

You sure you won't come with us?

You know, we talked about it, but we feel it's much

safer to remain on the ship

that is about to self-destruct.

What do you want in your plan, right?

Would you rather let your life rest in the hands of

an idiot, a closet case,

and a walking erection?

There, we can enter through the dry event.

If your mother told you not to marry me, why didn't

you listen to her?

You would have done us both a favor.

What? A razor daughter alone?

You said you were on the bail.

You said you would pull out.

Now we're infested.

How many times do I have to tell you this?

Shut up, the screw door.

No, not her. No, full power steering.

I may not remember to close the screen door, but at

least I cover my mouth when I sneeze.

Where the hell are we?

I haven't got my bearings, but somewhere in his head.

It looks like we're in his sinuses.

Get us out of here now!

What happened?

I think we're stuck in his snot.

Well, it is the respiratory system's flypaper.

Now shut up, will you? We gotta get out of this muck.

Ooh, the level's rising. Our friend here must have a

cold.

A cold? Where's the first aid kit on this thing?

[whistling]

Gus, are we back on track here?

By my navigational computations and knowledge of

anatomy,

the carotid artery should ferry us,

undeviatingly, to the cerebellum, where we...

Ah, geez, Gus, now you're starting to sound like six.

It's his white blood cells!

They attack any foreign body.

Use the force to trust your...

What do you... Shut up, I'm trying to fire here.

Oh, sorry.

As soon as she graduates from high school, I'm outta

here.

Will you shut up for two frickin' seconds?

You're giving me a migraine.

Your piece of crap shit will self-destruct in six

minutes.

This is the only way to the ship's core, and if I

know Bobo, he's programmed Bob.

It's Bernice, you cyborg! Hoes, hoes!

Bernice to protect the mainframe.

[screaming]

It's lined with heat sensors, any variation in

temperature, and the tunnel constricts.

What are you doing?

I must keep an even-body temperature, or I'll be

expelled like toothpaste out of a tube.

Good thing there's no one here to see my hot, sexy,

writhing, naked body

pressed against the walls of this long, transparent

cylinder.

It's too bad there isn't a camera trained on you,

so millions of sci-fi geeks could get their kicks

watching it.

Next time someone steals your identity, turn it off.

Tell him to do me a favor and come get the rest of

you.

Damn, you can hear everything they're saying.

Hey, can you tap into the signal being sent from the

optic nerve?

Mind screen.

Wow, is your face that ugly?

Or did you teach your thinker to speak?

How dare you talk to me like that?

I have complete control. I can make him say and do

whatever I want.

The ultimate identity, theft.

Hey, watch this, watch this.

Hey, Sailor Maid, how about dropping trow so I can

see if the rug matches the drape?

What?

I didn't say that. Why would I? I know they don't

match.

But you did say it. I'm going crazy.

For you, it was a short trip. Stop it!

No, you stop it.

Maybe I should leave you two alone.

No, wait! You need to teach me a lesson.

Bobo's been a bad boy. A swift kick in the clown

jewels should do it.

No!

God, you feel so good inside me.

Maybe it's time I switch teams.

Oh no.

Either the ship's having an orgasm or rubbing against

the walls is causing my external temperature to rise.

Quick, get some oil and lubricate me. It will reduce

the friction.

Jude, I hate to interrupt your fun, but we have a

ship to save.

All I have to do is access his memory and look for

the password.

Okay, okay. Just one more.

Burnie, you ugly cow. I've been meaning to tell you.

[Humming]

Your mother gave me a hummer.

What did you say?

Nothing. A hummer. You know, one of the giant FUVs.

[Humming]

[Sigh]

Horror!

Ow! My shin!

Uncle Chode, we're in.

We don't have much time.

Put the memories on the screen.

Are you sure it was Chode who was using this cheat

sheet?

I fly him to it.

That's Stooly.

Fast forward, we're still in his childhoods. Hurry,

we have less than a minute.

Oh, nice. One of these babies could turn my fledgling

clown federation into a confederation killing machine.

[Laughing]

Now we've tapped into his fantasy life. Keep going.

[Snoring]

[Snoring]

We're recording this, right? Okay, once this identity

theft well runs dry, I can move on to a little blackmail.

We're not going to be doing much of anything if we

don't get that password. We've got ten seconds.

Wait, go back. I saw something. There, those numbers.

That's gotta be it. Access to Jupiter's computer.

It's not working. It doesn't work. That's not the

password.

Three, two, one.

[Growling]

We're Bob.

Six.

Six and Bob. That about covers it.

What about me, you jerk-offs?

Tanook, are you in heaven?

What the hell? Six saved the ship. So get your asses

back here. 'Cause there's gotta be some big time gloating

going on.

Good job, Six.

Ditto. I just hope it was as good for you as it was

for me.

It never is.

Let's go home, whip.

Oh my god, the passage is blocked.

Has the man not heard of a Q-tip?

What? It's not wax.

My mother wouldn't do that if she was a cat and you

tasted like tuna fish. Are you listening to me?

We're trapped.

Try his mouth or his nose.

His mouth is closed and his nose...we've been there.

So we wait until he opens his mouth. No one bobo,

that can't be too long.

Whip, did you happen to read the instructions for the

intruder-

No self-respecting guy reads the instructions.

Geez, next you'll want to know if we ask for

directions.

Well, guys, there's a warning here, something about

the effects lasting only 20 minutes.

And it's very clear about this. Not expanding inside

a small space.

What?

Just thought you might want to know.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on a minute. What's a big

freaking deal?

We expand inside a bobo when he looks like a

Thanksgiving parade balloon?

Well, and the lake explodes.

Again, if you expand in an area smaller than your

original size, your molecules will bond with whatever

impedes expansion.

It's a good thing we're not inside a fly or we'd end

up looking like Jeff Goldblum.

The horror.

This is worse. Think about it. We'll be permanently

joined with Darf Bobo.

You wanted his identity, Chode. Now you'll have it.

Whip, if you hadn't blabbed the password and come up

with this stupid plan, we wouldn't be in this mess.

Guys, I have an idea how to get you out. That is, if

you want to hear it.

No, no, no, no, no.

You sure? It won't have bells and whistles or involve

cool cutting-edge technology.

All right, we're sure.

Then turn on your tracking beacon.

Good. I need you to angle down 90 degrees. Bobo's got

an open wound on his shin.

You should be able to exit there.

Game, relax, guys. If anyone can get out of here, it's

six.

What does she know about the intricacies of the male

anatomy?

If anyone knows their way around a man's body, it's

her. She does this thing with her tongue, you know,

right on the rim of your...

You just thinking about it makes me...

Chode, focus. We are about to explode.

That's exactly...

Six, what the hell was that?

You've landed in Bobo's stomach.

We'll pass through the upper digestive tract to the

small intestine, where the shuttle will be absorbed

into the bloodstream.

Then you follow the arteries to Bobo's wound.

That thing about Rod Stewart was an urban legend,

right?

'Cause I'd hate to think we're floating in a gallon

of undigested...

Six, get us out of here!

Relax. If it were true, Six would need her stomach

pumped on a weekly basis. Right, Six?

Wait a minute. What's that?

The stomach acids are roting our hull.

The opening is at the bottom. Hurry.

You're going too fast to be absorbed. You've gone too

far. You've gotta go back.

Go, but now!

Get right out!

Let's split up and take a look around. We've gotta

find the problem.

It's the antenna. It's all gummed up with some kind

of brown sludge.

What's that awful smell?

Sorry, silent, but deadly.

No, it's worse than your flatulence.

Jode, get out of there!

Where are we?

In Bobo's colon.

Great balls of feces!

Six, what now? Our exit's blocked.

You can expand at any moment. There's only one option.

For what the hell is it? This isn't a good time to

play 20 questions.

Must be that damn spicy food.

Whoa, that's not good.

We're gonna be permanently fused with Bobo's ass.

Is that star-looking thing what I think it is?

Thank goodness, his anus.

What words are never uttered by a straight guy?

When you get in range, fire your lasers.

I'm dying. I must be dying.

That rocked!

Sweet!

Let's do that last part again and again and again.

Jode, I told you stealing someone's identity was a

terrible idea.

Yes, you nearly ended up with it permanently.

We could have called you Bode.

Or Darth Chobo.

I just hope you learned something from all this.

As a matter of fact, I did.

That number we pulled out of his memory turns out it's

his debit pin number.

Let's see, a one-tube of preparation aid and a hemorrhoid

donut.

Is that all for you?

Yeah, unless you got something that'll cure my wife's

bitchyness.

Well, if we did, we'd have a hard time keeping it in

stock.

Oh, I gotta start eating more fiber.

How do you want to pay for this?

Well, my credit cards maxed out. You take debit.

I'm sorry, it's denied insufficient funds.

That's impossible! I got over 4,000 cronies in that!

Ah, chowd!

Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

Ow! Ow!