Original subtitles

- Come on, pick up! Pick up! Pick up!

[line trilling] Oh, come on!

[phone rings]

- This is Kernst.

- Major, it's MacGruber.

You seeing this Ecuador shit?

- You son of a bitch! - What?

- Oh, cut the crap. You played me.

- Sir, the only thing I've been playing

is with Vicki's beautiful breasts and vagina

for ten straight hours, minus bathroom breaks.

So you mind telling me what the hell you're talking about?

- You sold us down the river.

This raid on Queeth's compound

was supposed to be the end of this thing.

You said Brimstone was contained.

- Uh, yeah, I thought it was.

But clearly someone is still behind it!

Someone terribly evil. Someone who has to be stopped.

- Oh, yeah. I'm talking to him right now.

- Oh, thank God. Okay, Kernst, listen carefully.

You have to keep him on the line

and trace that telephone call

so we can find out exactly where--

- MacGruber! I'm talking about you.

- Oh, you're fucking insane!

- Special agents in Ecuador found DNA

on a dispersal device,

and it's a presumptive match to you!

- Come on, this is clearly a frame job.

Queeth's final fuck you from the grave.

You gotta believe me. I'm one of the good guys.

I got nothing to hide.

- If that's true, then come turn yourself in right now.

- You know I can't do that.

- Well, I guess we both know how this is gonna end.

- Yeah, with you putting a medal around my neck.

- Or a bullet in your head.

- Tomato, "toe-ma-toe."

- MacGruber, I'ma give you one last chance.

Every law enforcement officer in the country

will be looking for you,

and the orders will be shoot to kill.

- Major, Queeth may be dead now,

but someone is keeping his plan in motion,

and you're seriously asking me to stand down?

- I'm not asking.

- Well, in that case, catch me if you can.

[dramatic music]

♪

- Put it up.

[dramatic music]

♪

- ♪ MacGruber

[fire crackles]

["O Christmas Tree" playing]

♪

- ♪ Oh, Christmas tree

- May I have this dance?

- Aww.

Oh, watch out for the gingerbread house.

Spent all morning on that thing.

- Sorry.

- Whoops. [both laugh]

[baby babbles]

- God, I love our life.

- Well, that's good to hear because I have some big news.

Dixon, I'm pregnant.

- We're all gonna die! We're all gonna die!

- Oh, geez, thank God you're still alive!

We are so fucked!

[baby cries]

- Aww, little one, don't cry. Everything's okay.

[mouths words]

- Jesus Christ, what are you guys doing here?

- Haven't you been watching the news?

The poisonous cloud over Ecuador?

Somehow Queeth's plan is still on.

- That's impossible.

- Tens of thousands of people have been reported dead,

and we can only assume

that number is going to rise in the coming days.

- Holy shit. But I thought Queeth was dead!

I thought this was over.

- Checkers, the only thing that's over

is the amount that this motherfucker is not over.

I mean, we are in grave danger here!

Ooh, can I play with your baby?

- Authorities are looking for this man--

former military officer MacGruber.

- Oh, look, there's Uncle MacGruber.

- Jesus, you're wanted?

- Oh, yeah, super wanted. Like, shoot to kill.

Hell, I mean, for all I know,

they could have their scopes on me right now.

Oh, look at that!

Is that your little playset, bud?

Huh? Oh, that's so cute. I'm jealous, and I'm an adult.

Huh? Is that--

Oh, what? No. Aww.

Now, let's focus up. We got a terrorist to catch.

Now, I won't go as far as to say that

this is a "Mission: Impossible,"

but at the very least, it's a "Mission: Very Hard."

No clues, no leads.

Hell, everyone we knew

who was involved with the plan is dead now.

- Well...not everyone.

[dramatic music]

♪

- Everyone got their covers down?

- Uh-huh. - Yeah.

- Look, these are actual IDs I stole from the NSA,

and I just tweaked them a little bit.

So don't worry. We got this.

- ID, please.

So your name is Sharold?

- Of course my name is Sharold. Sharold Kernst.

- Interesting name.

- It's a family name.

My grandmother was Sharold, her mother and her aunts,

and most of her sisters, and some of her sons.

Goes for all genders, really, Sharold.

[tense music]

♪

Something wrong?

- No, it's just weird.

Both the S and the H are capitalized.

- Yeah.

Uh, That's because it's S. Harold Kernst.

- And the S stands for Sharold?

- Stands for Sharold.

- So your name is Sharold Harold Kernst.

- Yep.

- And here you go, Colonel Jebblidoh.

- Jebblidoo. Matias Jebblidoo.

- Sure.

And Private Fukk?

- Mm-hmm.

- Yep, Private David Fukk, Wisconsin's own.

- Oh, I'm from Madison. - Get out of town.

That's so fun!

Private Fukk, isn't that so fun?

From Madison. Tell him all about

the different Wisconsin trivia that you know.

- Well, I guess we should be leaving, so.

- Well, I don't know. We got a little bit of time.

- Bye. - Say goodbye, Private Fukk.

- Bye. - Bye.

♪

- Hey, Vic. - Yeah?

- You sure you don't need me in there?

- Thanks, but I think this is something

I need to do on my own.

- I understand.

Hey. Sharold.

- Yeah? - Livestrong.

- Okay. - Come on, give me five.

Yeah.

- Open 104!

♪

- Hello, Barrett.

- Victoria.

- Oh, shut up-a you face!

[tense music]

Put 'em on.

- Honey-- - Kee-yah!

I am not your honey, honey. Not anymore.

And you are not my king.

So are we gonna do things the hard way?

Or...

The harder way?

♪

It's your choice.

General. [coughs]

- Just tell me you once loved me.

I'll tell you whatever you want to know.

- Sorry.

I don't negotiate with terrorists.

- [grunts, coughs]

Queeth and his men are dead,

but the plan is still proceeding.

Tell me what you know!

Goll dar, Barrett!

Who is executing Queeth's goll dar plan?

- I don't know! - That's a fib!

You're fibbing! - I'm not fibbing.

I swear to you, I'm not fibbing!

- Okay.

Looks like I'm gonna have to take off the training wheels,

and sit down real hard on the seat.

- [groans]

[coughs]

- You know what that is? I think you do.

Yeah, I think you know what that is.

Yeah. That's your old pal, MacGruber.

- No!

No!

- Millions of lives are at stake, Barrett.

Tell me what you know! - I don't know anything.

- Tell me what you know!

Tell me what you know! What do you know?

- Okay! Okay! I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything!

- Thank you.

- Twenty years ago,

there was someone working on the inside with Queeth.

I never knew who it was.

I only knew them as the Architect.

But they controlled everything. Everything.

- Tell me more about this "The Architect."

- I don't know much. [sniffles]

They covered their tracks very well,

so I was never able to piece the whole thing together.

But what I do know is in my computer,

locked away in the NSA.

Sorry. Wish I could tell you more.

- Apology not accepted.

- Vicki, please, don't go.

Vicki, please.

- Goodbye, Barrett.

[knocks on door] - Victoria.

Victoria!

[sobbing] Victoria!

♪

- Files you requested, sir. - This everything?

- Not exactly.

This is everything.

- Jesus.

- If I may, sir, any idea where he is?

- That's what I'm hoping to find out.

Where the hell are you, MacGruber?

[suspenseful music]

- Oh, hold that, will you?

Thank you. Are you going up?

- All the way to the top. Isn't that right, Agent Piss?

- Mm-hmm.

[elevator dings]

[dramatic music]

♪

- Jesus.

[suspenseful music]

♪

- Shit. We'll never find it.

- They're alphabetized. - What?

- Got it. - [gasps]

- Nice job, Piss.

[dramatic music]

♪

- Who is this guy?

- Hurry up, Vic. This computer might be

our only shot to find out who the Architect is.

- I know, I'm sorry, it's just going so slow!

Come on! Come on!

- Checkers, how we doing with the 5-0?

- All doors are locked, there's no movement

in Stairwell 6, so that's our best bet for escape.

We make it to the parking structure

and drive out the front gate

before anyone knows we were here.

That's probably not what'll happen,

but it's always good to have a plan, I guess.

- Loud and.

[computer beeps] - Shoot, shoot, shoot.

Guys, we have a problem. We need his password.

- Oh, shit, shit, shit! Shit!

Okay, relax, Vicki.

Last thing we need is a major freak-out right now.

Okay, so don't panic.

We'll get through this together.

So try this. You ready? - Yeah.

- Type in six, nine, six, nine, six, nine, six, nine.

- Okay.

Six, nine, six, nine, six, nine, six.

- Nine. One final nine in there.

- Nine. [computer beeps]

- Fuck.

Okay. Okay. Okay. No worries.

Let's just change it up a little bit and go with this.

Six, nine, six, nine, six, nine, six, nine,

six, nine.

[computer beeps]

Shit fuck! Okay. Okay.

Six, nine, six, nine, six, nine, six, nine,

six, nine, six, nine.

[computer beeps]

Oh, God! Oh, God. Oh, God. What do we do here?

Okay, okay, how about just six, nine, six, nine?

Fuck!

[sentimental music]

♪

Six, nine, six, nine, six, nine, six, nine,

six, nine, six, nine, six, nine, six, nine,

six, nine, six, nine, six, nine, six, nine,

six, nine, six, nine, six, nine,

six, nine, six, nine,

six, nine, six, nine, six, nine.

Okay, try that.

No! Wait, wait, wait. Wait.

Six, nine.

Shit!

Well, it's official: we're never gonna get in.

- Let me try something.

[computer beeps]

Oh, we're in!

- Nice on, Vic! How many 69s was that?

- Uh, none.

He used our wedding anniversary.

- Oh, your wedding anniversary. - Yeah.

- Oh, what a fucking goober. [laughs]

That's so dumb.

Jesus.

Ugh, just makes me barf in my mouth a little bit.

I mean, anybody could look that up.

It's public record.

That's the stupidest thing I've ever seen.

So fucking dumb.

Okay, now do a search for "architect" or "Queeth"

or maybe the word "plan"

or the phrase "miscellaneous evil."

- On it.

- We're running out of time!

- Just a few more seconds!

[ominous music]

♪

- Oh, my God.

♪

Family torn apart.

Mother murdered.

[suspenseful music]

♪

Son of a bitch.

- Got it! - Yes!

- It might take me a while to crack it, though.

It's encrypted. [phone buzzes]

- Go for Grubs. - Son, are you okay?

Your face is all over the news.

- I promise you, Dad, it's all horsepucky.

- I know.

You could never do something like this.

- Thanks, Dad. But I think I know who did.

Have you ever heard of an "The Architect?"

- Can't say I have. Where'd you get that intel?

- Stopped by the pen today and had a little chat

with Barrett Fasoose.

We're at the NSA right now working his lead.

- No, you gotta get out of there!

Don't you see? This is a trap. Fasoose is setting you up!

- I appreciate your concern, but we're right on the verge

of blowing this thing wide open.

Then we can go to Kernst and get back on the mission.

- Wait, Kernst is running things now?

- Yeah. - God.

MacGruber, that's your guy. Kernst is your Architect.

- Daddy, I seriously doubt that--

- Trust me, son. It has to be Kernst.

Now, listen, you gotta get out of there.

You're in real danger.

- Guys, I think we got some movement over here.

- Shit. Dad, hold on.

- Okay, I'm gonna copy the files to the drive,

but they're really big ones.

- Please go! - Hang on, Dad. Hang on.

- Okay.

Just gotta drag, drop this one over here.

Drag it. Drop it.

Drag it.

- Hang on, she's just dragging and dropping.

- Drag it. Whoop.

Drag it. Drop it.

- Shit.

[tense music]

- Shit, we got company.

- Okay, sorry, Dad, gotta jump.

The pigs are porking it up over here.

- MacGruber!

- Just a few more seconds!

- We don't have a few more seconds!

- Okay. But the flash drive!

- Just leave it!

This will buy us some time.

[alarm blaring]

Go! Go! [Vicky yells]

[dramatic music]

♪

- [yells]

Oh, my leg! Oh, fuck!

Good call on the water thing, Piper.

Always playing checkers.

[door crashes open]

Oh, fuck! Go, go, go!

I'll meet you at the SUV! Go, Vicki! Go!

- MacGruber! - Oh, fuck!

[groaning]

Ahh!

[dramatic music]

♪

- MacGruber, stop.

I said stop!

[gunshot]

Don't move a muscle.

- Well, Major...

I guess you caught me if you could.

- I guess I did, Colonel Jebblidoo.

- You son of a bitch. My dad warned me about you.

You're nothing but a silver-tongued

snake oil salesman,

saying whatever it takes to keep up the fucking grift.

You know what, I wish I had a fucking sledgehammer right now

so I could splatter your brains against the fucking wall

in a million pieces,

one for each of those innocent people

who lost their lives in Ecuador because of you!

- Are you done?

- Oh, I haven't even started yet.

- Well, let me know when you are,

so I can give you this.

- Vicki's hard drive.

I-I don't understand.

- Found it in our evidence room.

We can't crack the files, but maybe you can.

[heartfelt music]

Come on, Mac. We're on the same team here.

♪

- Why are you doing this?

- I, um, I lost my mom too.

- I'm sorry.

What was her name?

- Elizabeth.

- Darcy.

What was her middle name?

- Look, Mac, you don't have much time.

- Yes, no, you're right. Yes.

- You take that, and you go find that son of a bitch.

- I will.

♪

- Are you okay?

- It just doesn't make any sense.

I mean, my dad was so sure that Kernst was the Architect.

And my dad is just like me-- he doesn't make mistakes.

Hell, maybe Kernst is just playing me.

Maybe this is all just one big long con.

But why?

[sighs] Something just doesn't add up.

What's the play here? What's the fucking play?

- Oh, my God.

- MacGruber! Did you just toot?

- Nice try, Vic, but you know as well as I do

that whoever smelt it dealt it.

[mysterious music]

Whoever smelt it...

Dealt it.

Oh. My. God.

[dramatic music]

[voices overlapping] Whoever smelt it dealt it.

Whoever smelt it dealt it.

Whoever smelt it dealt it. Whoever smelt it dealt it.

Whoever smelt it dealt it. Whoever smelt it dealt it.

Whoever smelt it dealt it. Whoever smelt it dealt it.

Whoever smelt it dealt it. Whoever smelt it dealt it.

Whoever smelt it dealt it. Whoever smelt it dealt it.

- I know who The Architect is.

♪

My own fucking father.

[dramatic music]

♪