Original subtitles

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

‐ Okay. Can you see me?

‐ I, uh, back up a little bit.

You're too close to the camera.

‐ All right. How about now?

‐ Oh, yes, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Much better, huh. Hey, how do I look?

‐ Fucking awesome.

Man, just wait until we make our demands

on the world's governments with this.

Then we'll see who needs more time.

‐ [laughs] Yeah. And check this out.

‐ Oh, what the fuck?

‐ [giggles] It's face swap!

I downloaded a bunch of sweet Snapchat filters on here.

‐ Oh, okay.

Can‐‐can you please take my face off?

‐ Okay. [giggles] No problem.

Look, it's Professor Von Puppy.

[laughs, barks]

‐ Okay, I'm‐‐ I'm hanging up now.

‐ [howls, laughs]

Von Puppy, you want a bone? [laughs]

You want a bone to bury in the backyard?

Here's a treat. You have fleas.

‐ How do I turn this off?

‐ Wait, I know. You hit a button right there.

‐ Dr. Havoc, Dr. Havoc, we've done it.

We caught Brock Mason.

‐ Holy shit. Good job.

‐ Uh, he gave us good job! ‐ Yeah!

‐ He told us good job! ‐ Hey, we did it.

‐ All right. ‐ Pat on the back.

‐ Whoo! ‐ Do‐‐can I‐‐can we get,

like, a sticker or something?

‐ Maybe. How the hell did you catch him?

‐ Uh, we found him fighting a raccoon

behind a dumpster at Taco Bell.

‐ What?

Ugh, hold on.

‐ Angry cat wanted my taco.

‐ Oh, God damn it.

This is the Brock clone.

You guys didn't notice that he had the mind of a two year old?

‐ Mm, that makes sense.

‐ Yeah, he did come right over to us.

‐ Would also explain why he shit himself on the way over.

‐ Uh‐oh.

‐ Why he pooped right in his pants.

‐ Poopy.

‐ God damn it.

You know, he does look exactly like Brock.

‐ He does.

‐ Maybe we can use this.

All right. Tell you what.

Go change him, and then bring him back here.

[ominous music]

Hello, United Nations.

This is international supervillain Dr. Havoc.

‐ Dr. Havoc, this is the secretary general.

What is the meaning of this call?

‐ Well, gentlemen, ladies,

I have recently come into possession

of somebody who may be of interest to you.

‐ Is that some sort of a cat man?

‐ What? Oh, God damn it.

Sorry. Snapchat filter was turned on.

‐ Brock Mason. ‐ Brock Mason.

‐ That's right.

Secret Agent Brock Mason.

Just imagine what kind of

government secrets and intel this man possesses.

I'm willing to bet you'd pay a lot of money to keep

that information from falling into the wrong hands.

‐ Dr. Havoc, what do you want?

‐ Here are my demands.

Uh, sorry, sorry.

Hold on. God damn it.

My demands are simple.

In exchange for Brock Mason's safe return,

you will transfer one billion dollars

into my Chase business checking account.

‐ All right, Havoc.

If we meet your demand,

we need your assurance‐‐

‐ Dr. Havoc.

‐ Uh, just one second.

What? What do you want?

‐ We caught him, sir.

We caught the real Brock Mason.

‐ Oh, you got to be shitting me.

All right, well, whatever you do,

do not bring him in here.

‐ Hey, sir. Look who we got.

‐ Oh, hey, Brock.

‐ Well, well, well, Havoc,

I guess‐‐wait, who the fuck is that?

‐ [laughs] Uh, funny story, Brock.

‐ [grunting]

‐ Ugh. So close.

‐ Papa?

‐ Oh, my God.

‐ Uh, Havoc, what are we looking at here?

‐ [stammering]

How much would you give me for two Brocks?

‐ Huh?

‐ Look, I'll call you back.

‐ All these years, I've had a son I never knew.

‐ Da‐da!

‐ He's not your son, Brock.

He's a clone that I made.

‐ [grunts] God damn you, Havoc.

Every time I find out that I secretly have a kid,

you try to tell me that you made them.

‐ Okay, first off,

Ally is not your daughter, okay?

Kim is just saying otherwise to fuck with me.

And that's not your son.

It's a clone I made of your DNA.

I mean, Christ, Brock,

it's the same fucking age as you.

‐ You're right.

My little boy's all grown up,

but he still needs his daddy.

Even grown men need their daddies.

Come on, son, hop on Pop‐pop's back.

Hop on Pop‐pop. Hop on Pop‐pop.

‐ Yay! ‐ Oh, God.

[grunting] Get off.

Get off Pop‐pop.

Off Pop‐pop. Uh, get off Pop‐pop.

[grunts, panting] Oh, my God.

You really are a big boy, aren't you?

Uh maybe we should just hold hands.

Hold Pop‐pop's hand.

I'm taking my son, Havoc.

Me and my boy have got some catching up to do.

‐ Okay, well, he's, like, a month old, so‐‐

‐ I wanna take you to lunch, son.

Where would you like to go to eat lunch?

‐ Taco Bell, Pop‐pop.

‐ Ah! [laughs]

You really are a chip off the old block.

Uh, Taco Bell it is.

‐ He's not a chip off the old block.

He's an exact replica!

He's like a literal copy of the block.

All right, guys.

So where were we with that billion dollars?

‐ Where's Brock Mason? Is he safe?

‐ Yeah, yeah, he's fine.

See? He's right here.

‐ He looks strange.

Dr. Havoc, we need to hear from Brock's mouth

that he is safe and not under duress.

Brock, are you okay?

‐ Ya‐‐[clears throat] Uh, yeah.

All good in the hood.

‐ So there you have it. Let's move forward.

[indistinct whispering]

‐ Dr. Havoc, we have reason to believe

that that is not Brook Mason.

‐ What? No, no. This totally is.

I swear. Tell him, Brock.

‐ Yah, I'm Brock Mason.

I'm a secret agent,

and I love fucking Dr. Havoc's wife.

Cowabunga!

‐ All right, Havoc. We're hanging up now.

‐ Wait. No. I‐‐I promise.

[sighs]

"Cowabunga"?

You really think that's something he would say?

‐ Uh, to be honest,

I've never met Brock Mason.

‐ And to end my very first video diary,

I'd like to say that, as a super villain,

it's important to embrace technology

and always stay one step ahead of your enemies.

This is Dr. Havoc signing off.

What? Oh, no. God damn it.

Ugh.

[clears throat]

Hello, video diary.

As my first entry,