Original subtitles

TICK: Every hero needs a home base.

A headquarters.

A fortress of solitude to let one's hair down

and recharge the old noggin batteries.

-(sighs) -TICK: But when stripped of that fortress,

solitude can feel pretty crowded.

DANGERBOAT: Good morning, Arthur.

Oh! Uh... good morning, Dangerboat.

DANGERBOAT: Oh, you look a little stressed.

Did you not sleep well on Dangertable?

Uh, well, considering that Dangertable's a... a table,

not-not great, no.

DANGERBOAT I'm sorry about that.

You must be all ache-y.

Would you like a water massage to relax you?

A what?

Oh. Ah.

-Oh. -Do you like that?

Uh... yeah, actually.

That's, uh... really nice.

DANGERBOAT: I like it, too. Hey, you know what would be fun?

Loofah.

Oh. Eh...

Don't you growl at me, dogmeat.

Did you tell him what we said?

The Terror? Karamazov?

Excuse me.

'Cause he's still dicking around the Giant Douche, that's why.

Good shower, chum?

-Uh-huh. -I hope your watery respite

has awakened you as much as this canine

has awakened me with his tome.

My search for self has had an air horn blast

to the face.

Hey, Tick, have you been messing with my helmet?

-Why? Is it all stretched out? -The antenna came right off

at the connection port. We must have closed the suitcase on it.

-(electric squawking) -Oh, God! What the hell is that?

Perhaps it's screaming in agony at the loss of its bunny ear.

So that's all you can say?

You know what?

I liked you better when you were Onward, mutt.

The dog gave Superian the message.

And what, what, he didn't believe it?

Superian gets this kind of stuff

from nutjobs all the time.

"The Terror's alive.

He's coming after you."

Except The Terror is alive and he is coming after him.

Superian's not buying it. We need to regroup.

Start working out a plan to locate The Terror's new hideout.

-Maybe use your sister. -What? No.

No, no, no, no, no. We're leaving Dot out of this.

But she's definitely in. And she's excited about it.

My sister is not coming with us on any of our missions.

She's not prepared for the kind of danger

-that we're about to face. -She's a lot stronger

-than you give her credit for. -DANGERBOAT: I think it's sweet

that Arthur is trying to protect his sister.

Okay. Thanks... Dangerboat.

Look, I don't think it's a good idea for all of us

to be living together in close quarters.

Tick and I are gonna go back to staying at my apartment.

-DANGERBOAT: You're leaving? -Yeah.

I think it's wise if we regroup

and restrategize after I've had

more than, you know, 20 minutes of sleep.

I thought we were laying low from The Terror and his onions.

Minions.

Minions. Oh, well, that would make more sense.

MAN: As you can see,

Brown Tingle Cola is set to have

one of its best years ever.

In almost 25% of the developing world,

BTC vending machines now outnumber wells

by a factor of three to one.

Now that is what I call market saturation.

-(chuckles) -(peppy music starts playing)

-Garrett, can we turn this off? -I'm trying, it's not working.

It is catchy, though.

-(snaps) -(music stops)

Yes!

The Terror is alive.

And, yes,

of all the gin joints in all the world...

he's walked into yours.

But what's yours...

is mine.

And it always has been!

I founded Brown Tingle Cola.

I worked out the formula.

I X-ed out the competition.

I even added the famous secret ingredient.

Now...

out of my chair!

(gasping)

(thump)

We're pushing a new product this quarter.

Me!

♪ ♪

Hey, Tick, have you noticed anything, um,

o-odd about Dangerboat's behavior?

I don't follow.

Well, sometimes he can be a little... familiar?

Well, he is a very friendly boat.

He really likes you.

Good morning, gentlemen.

You are Arthur Everest, yes?

Yes. Maybe.

Uh, I don't... know.

Who-who are you?

Diplomats from Urmanian Embassy.

We are looking for our countryman,

Dr. Mischa Karamazov.

An anonymous informant told us

that he had been seen,

recently, in your company.

(chuckles) More like misinformant.

'Cause of... I... I-I have not.

(mechanical whirring)

Hot dog. Killer robot.

Wait, Tick, hold on.

DIPLOMAT: Bakkup unit.

(electric chirp)

Please, excuse my partner.

He's an old model. Very bad at diplomacy.

But my superiors won't replace him until he wears out.

(electronic beeping)

Say, uh, have we met somewhere before,

either in or out of battle?

Look, I'm sorry that I can't

be of more help to you, but I'm not

in communication with any Karamazov.

-(electric squawking) -MAN (on comms): Hello? -Hello?

If our doctor should turn up, we would be appreciative

if you would give us a jingle.

Okay. Sure, I'll jingle you.

Bakkup.

Nice talking to you.

(engine starts)

Did that metal muscle remind you of anyone?

It's The Terror.

No, that's not it.

No, I mean the anonymous informant--

the one who told them that I was with Karamazov--

it has to be him.

He wants the scientist dead because he knows that Karamazov

knows everything about his plan to kill Superian.

-(electric squawking) -MAN (on comms): Can you hear me?

God, I think this is Karamazov

trying to reach me on my helmet.

Come on, Tick. Got to go find that antenna.

He's bigger, right?

He looks bigger to me.

Superian, sir?

Special Agent Adams.

They said you had a question?

Yes. Just wondering--

-the AEGIS file on The Terror -Uh-huh.

hasn't been updated, has it?

How do you mean, sir?

Like, he's... is still dead, right?

-Well, of course. -Mmm.

There's been no change in status.

-I mean, they-they found his teeth, right? -Yes.

Absolutely. They found his...

ADAMS: What is it, sir?

I think I know this guy.

-Your apartment's this way, Arthur. -Tick!

-Don't you remember? -Stop! The Terror...

You're right, chum. Looks like The Terror

has struck our headquarters.

It's clearly been unransacked.

-(sizzling) -There's a definite air

of home improvement here.

-And eggs. -Kevin?

-Hey, guys. -What are you doing here?

You told me to keep an eye on the apartment.

I thought it would be easier to do that from the inside.

-Kevin, that-that is not what I m... -Impeccable polishing.

So shiny.

I can practically see myself.

Tick, we have to find that antenna

so I can figure out if Dr. Karamazov

is calling, remember?

(quietly): Spoon.

-Is this what you're after? -Yeah.

-Exactly. -I thought this was yours.

I've been using it as a whisk.

-Great. Okay. -(static, whirr)

-I'll just put this back where it belongs... -Uh-uh.

Mm. I...

May I?

Thank you.

Great Lakes, I've got it!

What?

That Urmanian Robo-thug.

He reminds me of me.

What? What-what are you... what are you talking about?

Don't you see it? The proud forehead, the strong chin,

the bluish hue.

We could be twins.

Or cousins by marriage.

Okay, Tick, that-that thing is a machine.

-You have nothing in common with it. -KEVIN: Finished.

Oh, deft tool work, T.K.

MAN (with accent): Can anyone hear me?

Hello.

Ah, it's a tiny scientist calling.

Hello, Dr. Karamazov. Hello. Can you hear me?

I'm here. Hello?

KARAMAZOV: Finally! It is I,

-Dr. Mischa Karamazov. -(static)

Yeah, I know. I think

I just acknowledged that, right? I said...

I desperately need your help.

Yeah, well, the last time I tried to help you,

you punched me right in the...

-graveyard. -I was afraid.

I ran in blind fear for the only safe haven I knew.

Now, my government believes I blew up my own lab,

and defected to the West.

They want to kill me.

You know what? I'll help you, Dr. Karamazov,

but you have to help us stop The Terror.

You have to tell us everything that you know

about his plot to kill Superian.

KARAMAZOV: Of course. Anything.

I... I'm in grave danger.

You're right about that.

So where are you, Doctor?

(trilling)

(sighs) This is pointless.

The Terror could have relocated anywhere in The City.

DANGERBOAT: Or out of it.

There's no real reason to believe he's still here.

He's still here... because I am,

-and Arthur is. -(thud, whoosh) -DOT: Hello?

(whooshing)

Can I come in?

Apparently... since Dangerboat's not bothering

to check perimeter alarms.

DANGERBOAT: I checked. I just figured

Arthur's sister is more friend than foe.

Hello, Dot.

Hi... Boat.

-What do you want? -Don't get

your Kevlar in a bunch. I'm not staying.

Just dropped by to give you this.

Shakira.

Did you just call your gun "Shakira"?

No.

-Okay. -You fired this...

(sniffs) ...52...

(sniffs) No. 53 times.

DOT: You can tell that just by smelling it?

What the hell were you shooting at?

I took it to a gun range.

Thought I'd teach myself how to use it.

-How'd that go for you? -Look,

I get that you think I'm some amateur who's still in the dark.

Maybe my brother's got you thinking that I don't see

or understand the ugliness under the surface of this city.

But you're talking to someone who's had my hands

inside a guy's blown-out rib cage,

pressing down on his posterior

spinal artery to keep him from bleeding out.

-Okay, okay, okay. -(Dot mutters)

Just meant my gun's not weighted for your frame.

Try this Glock 26.

Less recoil.

Overkill, remember what Arthur said.

What did Arthur say?

He wants you out, but I already pegged you for a badass.

Just don't tell your brother I said that.

(upbeat, instrumental folk music playing)

(door bells tinkle)

Welcome to Taste of Urmania!

Can I interest you in an FLT?

Sounds great!

No, Tick, we're not here to... Wait.

Wait a second. FLT?

Face, lettuce and tomato.

Sheep face, lamb face, sometimes owl.

National delicacy.

-I think I'll take the owl. -We're out of owl.

-Ugh. -No one's eating an FLT, okay? We're-we're here to talk

-to somebody. He's like a... -KARAMAZOV: Doctor!

Stop selling face and let them in!

Dr. Karamazov, you're returned to your normal...

Oh, my God!

I can fix this.

-Small setback. -Look at the wee little puppet man!

-(chuckles) -Ooh.

Nabokov, my tiny neck weakens.

I must recline.

-Ooh! Ooh! -So tough. Shh. Shh.

-(Karamozov groans) -Oh. Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh.

(speaking Urmanian)

Dr. Nabokov and I were at Science College together.

He was my R.A.

(speaks Urmanian)

When you and I escaped The Terror,

I took with me the last scraps of Big Bismuth.

I had hoped to reverse the effects of my previous accident.

Wait. Wait a second. Big Bismuth.

That's the thing that you said can hurt Superian, right?

Yes. My experimentation

with this extraterrestrial element

has yielded many spectacular effects.

Well, it certainly dolled you up, fella.

(shouting in Urmanian)

The Urmanian agents! They're here!

You've been followed!

Impossible, Dr. Babybody. We used

the rooftops to leave our HQ. There's no way

-they could have followed us. -Tick, she bugged her card!

Blast their flat secrets!

Okay, you hold them off.

I have to get Dr. Karamazov out of here.

Like the Great Wall of China

held off the Yeti.

(door bangs open, door bells tinkle)

(door bells tinkle)

Ah. So you and your Diplomaticon think

breaking and entering is A-okay.

Where is Mischa Karamazov?

-Talk to the wall. -Bakkup.

Destroy this thing.

(whirring)

(thuds)

(groans, whirring)

(groaning, whirring)

Huh. Your strength matches my own!

What do you... know?

(gunshot)

(glass breaking)

Try it again.

Okay, just like that. (clears her throat)

Easy. (clears throat)

(Dot sighs)

You're still doing it wrong.

(sighs) Suggestions?

Keep your head level.

Tighten your grip.

Even pressure on the trigger.

Arms should be fully extended, but not locked out.

Relax your shoulders, feet-- hip distance apart,

-bend your elbow slightly. -Okay, maybe you should just

position my body properly.

What?

You have my permission

to touch me to correct my form.

What?

Are you uncomfortable

with physical contact with another human being?

I mean, apart... apart from butchering them?

I'm not afraid of anything.

Okay, I didn't say you were afraid.

I had a confusing experience once.

Caused some trust issues for me... with women.

On top of the general trust issues I already have.

Well, whoever she was, she must have

really done a number on you.

MISS LINT: Nice digs, Terror.

Smells less like the Grim Reaper

than your last place.

TERROR: Well, no lair's perfect.

At least there's blood on the floor.

How goes phase two?

I took control of the Pyramid.

The men follow me now.

Excellent.

The tune is playing.

All the parts are coming together.

V-L-M is in place, Superian, and the Everest kid.

Oh, and let's not forget the man in black.

What was his name again?

-Overkill. -No! Before that.

-In the Flag Five. -You mean Straight Shooter?

That was it! Straight Shooter.

I took his eyes, I took his hands.

Didn't I get you to break his spine or something?

His heart.

I broke his heart.

Right, right.

Good times. (sniffles)

Good times.

That Bakkup unit is a killing machine.

We need a plan!

Oh, crap.

Uh, new plan.

Stick with me here.

(thudding)

Goat, I'm sorry to do this to you,

but if a woman comes in here looking for me,

-could you please...? -Cause you've stolen her baby.

-What? No! No, no, no. Because she's dangerous. -Yes.

Like a mother lion.

That's what you get... stealing babies.

(Arthur groans)

Imbecile! I am no baby!

(shrieks)

(Goat shrieking)

-Okay. -(touch tones sounding)

DANGERBOAT: ♪ D-D-D-D, Dangerboat ♪

♪ D-D... ♪

(phone ringing)

ARTHUR: Hey. Overkill?

DANGERBOAT: Arthur, it's you. Oh, I'm... Hi.

Oh. Dangerboat. Hi. Uh, sorry.

I'm trying to reach Overkill. Is he around?

DANGERBOAT: No, but maybe I could help you.

I'd be thrilled! Just tell me.

Yeah, it's-it's kind of, uh, land stuff.

Land stuff. Oh. I...

I understand. But I'm afraid Overkill is already doing

"land stuff" with your sister.

Excuse me?

Arthur, about this morning,

I get the feeling I might have made things a little awkward

between us when we were in the shower together.

We were not in the shower together, Dangerboat, okay?

You were the shower, and I was inside of you.

Ooh...

I would never do anything

to jeopardize what we have or what we will have

or what we both want for the future.

-It's all so new. -Uh, I got to go.

He hates me.

(whirring, clanging)

Mirroring my every move

almost before I make it.

Stop copying me.

(Bakkup bleeps)

Commence this. (grunts)

(electronic beeping, trilling)

I agree.

Why fight

when we have so much in common?

The strong chin, the bluish hue,

the equally formidable forehead.

(trilling)

(trilling, static)

So you see it, too, huh?

Great! You see, when it comes to identity,

I'm an itchy man up a fuzzy tree.

(beeps twice)

Now, you see, that's where we differ.

You are a manufactured automaton, whereas

-I am a... -A later model?

Could be.

I heard the 9000-series was light-years improved.

(whirring)

Food for thought.

Come on, come on.

Okay, get ready for this. Sorry.

-Sorry. Sorry. -(muttering in Urmanian)

Okay. Uh, second to last step.

-Come on. Sorry. Sorry. -(shouting) -Hey.

Kevin, you got to stop being everywhere.

Did you get that out of my freezer?

Is that the tiny scientist?

(quietly): Yeah. Shh! Okay? Quiet. Yes.

Are you gonna keep it?

I believe your shaved bear rests

-somewhere on the spectrum. -I'm not a bear.

Okay, Kevin, uh, don't really have time to chat right now,

because government agents from Karamazov's country

are currently trying to hunt and kill him.

Yeah. Welcome to the club.

I'm sorry, our government is trying to hunt you?

No.

I'm starting my own club.

I'm inviting you to join.

We meet every other Thursday

at my office.

Where are they?!

Um...

Uh, all right, all right.

The man who stole your hideous baby is in the storage room.

(exhales)

(groans)

What-what are you doing?

I never should have gotten you that for Christmas.

(helicopter whirring past)

ADAMS: You were right, sir.

You had met Richter before.

13 years ago, Richter was on

the volunteer emergency response team

that was there on the scene

the day you killed The Terror.

Oh, my God. He found the teeth!

Yes, he's the one who found the teeth.

Hell of a coinkydink, that's for sure...

Sir?

So, if I'm glocking your spiel,

you're saying that the way I follow destiny

is like the way you follow programming.

(electronic beeps, whirrs)

Holy ravioli.

Say, have you ever read Good Intentions?

It's the stirring tale of one dog's search

for the Bone of Self-Fulfillment. Spoiler:

it was buried in his backyard all along.

Leave us alone!

(electronic chirp)

(beeping)

That's exactly what I need.

After talking to you, I feel

like I'm really starting to understand...

(clanking)

Stay back!

(grunts, sighs)

Karamazov is a wanted fugitive

within our jurisdictional rights as diplomatic attachés

to the Urmanian Embassy.

You are obstructing a lawful action.

You really don't know, do you?

You're not acting on behalf of your embassy.

You're being used by The Terror to do his dirty work.

What are you talking about?

The Terror tried to frame Karamazov over here

for blowing up his own lab.

Now he's counting on you shutting the doctor up

before he reveals the entire plan.

A stupid ruse.

The Terror is dead.

What'd you do to The Tick?

What he's going to do to you.

Hold on there, cybernetic sucker puncher!

ARTHUR: Tick!

I thought you took care of him!

(beeps, trills)

I'm beginning to think we're not so likeminded.

Enough of this. Bakkup, Karamazov is in there!

Finish him!

No!

Evil killer robot!

You happy now?

Murdering an innocent scientist?

All you've done is exactly what The Terror wanted you to do.

(camera shutter clicks)

I complete mission, get new robot.

Very happy.

Forgive me, Arthur.

I've let you down, and I've let

poor Dr. Bobblehead down.

I was so excited about my big news

that I lost sight of the big picture.

That's not Dr. Karamazov.

I know.

That's just his mortal coil lit up

like a grease fire.

No, no, no. That was the Butterball turkey

from my freezer.

Dr. Karamazov is currently safe and sound

inside Kevin's office.

Well played, chum!

Ehh. So, what's your big news, Tick?

Well, I, uh, finally found out my origin.

-Really? -Yeah.

I'm an Urmanian robot.

(sighs) No, you're not.

TICK: So this really is Tinfoil Kevin's office.

ARTHUR: That's what he said.

(robotic cadence): My sensors detect

a breach in the fence.

Okay, Tick, you're not a robot.

That is a robot.

(Karamazov muttering)

ARTHUR: Whoa...

Egad, Kevin.

It's like you're inside my head.

Your friend, he's not doing well.

KARAMAZOV: I am growing faint.

(coughs)

This head-to-body ratio is putting

an intolerable strain on my system.

You need to tell me what The Terror is planning.

I must find relief.

The shaved bear has had an idea

which may just work.

I need some of my tools.

I left them at your apartment.

O-Okay. Well, what's the idea-- what are we talking about?

TICK (shouting): Protocol engaged!

Tick, wait!

No, Tick, I do not think you're a robot.

Don't be so sure, chum.

That Bakkup and I shared too many similarities

to be sniffed at.

We're both bluish, for example.

Ah, I've missed the old place.

Okay, Tick, let's...

ARTHUR: Oh.

TICK: And we've got company.

Hey, kids.

Not everything that glows

gives you superpowers.

What?

What's the...

Who is... plot to kill me?

(Tick gasps)

So that's Superian.