Original subtitles

Previously on Velma...

I had to find you because I still didn't know if you'd listened to my VMs,

voice mails, let alone responded. Did you?

The police found my mom's car

abandoned and empty, except for her glasses,

and a single wrapped gift.

It's like what I said.

Someone is trying to recreate Dr. Perdue's work.

Which means... Brains, where's my mom?

Best of luck in all your future endeavors, Wilhelmina.

Would you ever consider interning for me at Jones Gentlemen's Accessories?

Really? Oh, my God, yes.

Mmm.

Aw!

What the actual hell?

Oh, my God, I do remember who the serial killer is.

It's...

It's...

It's me.

So, uh, yeah.

After all that, it turned out my mom wasn't kidnapped by the serial killer.

Apparently, she was the serial killer.

And yet, it got worse.

Ahhh!

Because it made no sense. Reading Dr. Perdue's journals,

I couldn't understand why my mom

would recreate the work of a mad scientist.

I have to talk to her.

Huh?

Nothing added up. And yet, no one seemed to care.

Okay, the next item on the block

is this 1969 van,

recently used by Diya Dinkley,

one of America's only female serial killers.

You can own a piece of her-story.

And yet, it still got worse.

Velma. There you are.

Any comment on today's front page story?

Because I'd also lost my best friends.

Norville, I'm sorry I accused your dad of being the serial killer.

- Hmm. - Norville, that's enough.

Velma needs us.

The only thing I need is to kick your ass for kissing Fred.

And yet, it somehow got even worse.

Okay, the swelling from your daughter's beating has gone down.

Can I go do your job for you and question my obviously innocent mom now?

No. We need you

to watch something.

So, why did you do it, Doo-dad? Huh?

Your choices on the lady confession form are

"revenge, jealousy,"

or "You know how we get!"

Okay, I'll tell you.

I did it because I wanted to put the brain of a popular girl

into the head of my daughter, Velma.

What?

But that makes even less sense.

If she's now saying she's guilty,

why did she pretend to have amnesia?

Or try to frame me with Brenda and Krista's bodies.

Velma, we're struggling too,

but Diya insists she did it.

Meaning this afternoon, she'll be sentenced to death row,

and, worse, brutally hounded by true crime podcasters.

Death row?

Then please, just give me five minutes down there

to figure out what's really going on.

What's that?

Look, you didn't hear it from us,

but the only way Cogburn's letting you anywhere near your mom's cell

and potentially messing up his case

is if you get arrested yourself.

Arrested? I see.

Well, then call me a medieval minstrel

'cause I'm about to loot.

Yeah. Unfortunately,

he's so worried about you talking to your mom,

the only thing he'd arrest you for right now is murder.

Murder?

Now, Daphne.

Though I married into this company,

I'm the one who built it from a small ascot shop

into the multi-billion dollar

target of child labor lawsuits it is today.

- And I did it all by... - Moxie!

Aggressively supporting politicians who look the other way.

And I have impeccable taste.

Like this. Our newest fragrance.

Oh, I love that. What's it called?

"Smells Like Mommy."

Oh. Mm.

Yes, it's terrible. Freddie named it.

Which brings us to the point of your internship.

You mean I'm not just a diversity hire

- for the company photo shoot? - No.

See, Freddie doesn't listen to me.

But yesterday you were able to coax him back to being popular like...

- A modern-day Anne Sullivan. - A celebrity dog trainer.

Regardless, if Fred has any hope

of running this company one day, I need your help

teaching him that same kind of strategic thinking and drive.

So, I'd have to spend more time with Fred?

I have to sort out some personal stuff with Velma first.

Oh, hey, this is a good business lesson to learn.

Nobody cares.

Fred, open up.

I need your help to get arrested and save my mom's life.

Ugh, not now.

Fred?

Fred, why are you raging out? Can I assume sports?

No, Velma.

I'm raging out because my mom doesn't think I'm capable

of running the family business.

But she's wrong.

Look how good I paint the company logo.

Your company logo is an asterisk?

Oh, to indicate a troubling footnote about child labor.

It's not an asterisk. It's a flower.

I painted those ones better.

Wait, Fred. You bought this van? Why?

Because all cool fashion advertising for teens

is just trashy, pedo-tinged sex stuff.

So, maybe if I drive this thing around,

I can make Gentlemen's Accessories cool

and prove to my mom I'm not a joke.

Because nothing's trashier or more pedo-tinged

than teens in an old van. That's actually not a bad idea.

Ahhh!

Wrong! It is a good idea! I can run the family business.

Oh, wait. You just agreed with me. Sorry, I'm...

I'm just sensitive from always being wrong about everything.

Well, then I have good news, 'cause I'm taking you

to the one place no one will ever doubt you.

Officers, arrest me.

I've committed the only crime worse than eating ethnic food on an airplane.

Don't care. Until your mom

is removed from our custody and goes to death row,

your presence here is like a condom in a porno.

Not wanted!

But would you arrest her if someone like me

said someone like her was bothering him?

Well, yeah, that would do it.

Norville, have you seen Velma? She wasn't at the pep rally.

And you know how much she loves knocking over cheerleader pyramids.

Sorry, Daph. But I'm just too tired of Velma's bullshit

to care where she is.

Norville never swears.

Oh, my God.

Huh? A geode?

"My dearest daughter..."

I almost died while finding this.

I think it has something to do with the murders.

"And while I know it can never make up for having abandoned you twice,

please consider us even

for the $10 I took from your locker!"

Be quick. Your mom doesn't have much time before her sentencing.

And the creature that lives in the toilet feeds at 2:00.

Mom?

- Velma? - Mom!

I know you didn't really wanna change my brain, right?

I assume you misspoke and meant change my bra? 'Cause I get that.

Velma, I did it because I wanted to put the brain

of a popular girl into the head of my daughter, Velma.

Oh.

- But why? - No, Velma, listen to me.

I did it because I wanted to put the brain

of a popular girl into the head of my daughter, Velma.

Yeah, Mom. I get it. Wait.

You keep saying the exact same thing.

Yes! When I try to say what actually happened,

that's what comes out.

I don't think I had amnesia, I think I was hypnotized.

Hypnotized? I thought that only worked in '70s cartoons

and '80s comedy clubs.

Wait. But the cure is always snapping.

Sorry. Time to go to death row. You failed, Velma.

You're not ruining this for me.

Let me out of here.

My mom was hypnotized,

and the serial killer is still out there.

Yes, he is, Velma.

Oh, no, he's here!

Daphne?

Sorry. I just had to clear my throat.

My moms told me you were here.

Ugh, I'd rather you were the serial killer.

Well, then, good news.

Because I have something that might help us find him.

A pocket watch?

Wait, I remember that from somewhere.

And do you remember me?

How am I on a dirt road?

Oh, no! I died, and hell is a cross country race.

Wait. This is a memory

of the night I started hallucinating, two years ago.

I'll never find my mom.

My mystery solving caused this.

No one will ever believe me...

because I'm a weirdo.

Oh, my God. I remember!

That pocket watch belongs to the serial killer.

I recognize it because he didn't just hypnotize my mom,

he hypnotized me two years ago as well,

to cause my hallucinations and keep me from finding her.

Now, did you check the watch

- for fingerprints or semen? - No need.

There's an inscription.

Okay, but Daphne, it belonged to a serial killer.

It's 100% caked in semen, and you're just, like, holding it in your hand.

"Harry Meeting?" Of course!

General Harry Meeting hired Dr. Edna Perdue

to run his Project SCOOBI brain-swapping program.

And he was a master of hypnosis.

But, wait, he's dead.

- Man! - Exactly.

Which can only mean one thing.

It's General Meeting's ghost,

back to finish Dr. Perdue's work!

For the last time, ghosts do not exist.

So, if you'd like to join me back in reality,

I'm gonna see if this watch jogs any memories for the Brains.

I'll come with. But first...

I'm sorry about kissing Fred. Forgive me?

And I promise nothing will ever come between us again.

Hold up. I have to take this. Victoria.

What? Fred was caught

trying to lure teens into a van for trashy sex stuff?

I'll be right there.

I am so sorry. I have to go. But here.

Perfume?

Is that to remember you while we're apart?

Yes. But Victoria also wants to know

if you like it and or get a terrible rash.

Text me your thoughts and be safe.

Fred, tell your mom I'm getting in the car you sent right now.

What do you mean you didn't send a car? Oh, God!

Ugh, fine. You sent a limo.

Yes, I know the difference, you asshole.

Okay.

Clap, clap. Group shower discussion of the day.

Aren't you so over characters making dramatic entrances on TV shows?

- For sure. - Totally.

I like the quiet characters who don't get much to do.

I actually love dramatic entrances.

- Velma? - Yeah.

And before you say anything, my mom didn't kill you and put you in those jars.

She was hypnotized by whoever took you.

So please, tell me you recognize this.

- Where was that? - I do...

not know.

- Sorry. - I don't either.

Well, great! Now I have nothing and my mom's going to the chair.

Which is exactly what you deserve, Velma.

Well, not your mom going to the chair.

But you were given the best thing in the world,

and every day you treated it like worthless garbage.

Hair that's full of bounce and easy to style?

No! Norville!

And now, he's transferring schools

because it's too hard for him to be around the person who betrayed him.

What? That's impossible.

I know I messed up by accusing Lamont,

but Norville would've told me if he was leaving school.

He did.

He left you a voice mail.

Just one of the 1,000 you never listened to.

I don't...

I don't have time for this.

I have to save my mom.

And where did her phone come from?

We're naked!

What's wrong, baby?

Three Chaka Khan songs have come on

and you haven't even bobbed your head.

Ugh, nothing.

I'm just wondering if I made the right decision to leave...

Oh, my God! I'm home!

So Brenda and Krista's bodies were used to frame me.

But, wait. Lola's was found by someone else.

Norville, where are you when I need you?

Fine.

Velma,

it's Norville. I'm switching schools. See you in hell.

If I ever visit from the Halls of Mandos.

That's a Tolkien reference, which I know you hate.

Damn it, Velma. Why didn't you ever listen to these?

Hey, Velma,

it's Norville, and I have huge news.

It's banana pudding day in the cafeteria.

Call me back!

♪ I will remember you ♪

Hey, Velma, it's Norville.

Who's got two thumbs and wants to say good morning?

This guy!

Yeah, that's maybe more of a visual joke. Call me back.

Hey, Velma, it's Arnold,

the Actornator. JK, JK, it's Norville.

Call me back.

Call me back.

Call me back.

Wow. This is the first voice mail he ever left me.

Uh, hey, hey, Velma.

It's Norville Rogers from... From math.

I know we don't really know each other,

but I... I just wanted to say

I'm sorry your mom got taken,

and I think it's cool that you're wearing glasses now.

Wow. He even noticed these.

Mom's frames are made by Jones Gentlemen's Accessories?

A pocket watch!

Oh, my God! Harry Meeting used

Jones Gentlemen's Accessories pocket watches

for his hypnosis. That's it!

Dad! Dad! I figured it out!

How to wash that sweater?

You've literally never smelled better.

No, that's just some dumb perfume Daphne sprayed on me.

Mom's innocent.

What? How?

My glasses! It was my glasses!

Mom didn't drop them in her car the night she was taken.

She left them as a clue for me to find.

But how are glasses a clue?

Unless they solve the mystery of why a girl can't get a date, right?

Sorry, I'm drunk. Please continue.

I'll explain everything on the way to the Jones estate.

If I'm right, Daphne and Fred are in trouble.

So, if the serial killer caused your hallucinations with hypnosis,

how did me believing that your mom was kidnapped stop them?

Because my hallucinations preyed on my insecurity

that I'm a weirdo no one would believe.

So, you believing me counteracted that.

Same with Norville saying he liked me.

I thought it was because he made me laugh.

But it was because he made me feel cared for,

the way a cool-ass boss bitch like myself deserves to be.

And I'm falling off the wall.

Velma!

Are you okay? 'Cause if not, we can definitely sue.

I'm fine. Just go get the cops.

On it. But could you maybe fake an injury?

- The Joneses are a cash cow. - Get the cops!

Okay. How do I sneak into this lab again?

Hey, Angela Lansbury, or whoever is in charge up there now,

please don't let me die today.

There are so many things I haven't done yet in life.

Like, make a bucket list. Or this.

Hello.

You've reached Norville Rogers.

And, if this is Velma, don't forget

you're a piece of...

Norville, look, I know you hate me, but in case I die tonight,

I just wanted to say you'll always be my best friend.

That's it. Bye. Love you.

Love you? Oh, no!

Ah! What's happening?

Don't donate my body to science!

Ugh, great.

My phone's dead. Now I can't call back Norville,

or order Thai food.

"To find the lab entrance, walk 32 steps.

The jersey number of the great O.J. Simpson"?

Ugh, God. Dr. Perdue, could this journal be more dated?

"Now, look for the stone that is as perfect

as Woody Allen and Mia Farrow's marriage"?

Wait, there it is.

My glasses.

I hope this doesn't keep happening.

Daphne, wake up.

Velma! Get me out of here.

Oh, and Fred, if there's time.

I will. I just have to figure out how.

Oh, that's it.

Excuse me!

Wait. Do you think seeing us fool around

will give the serial killer a heart attack?

Worth a shot. Oh, God!

- Ahhh! - And now you die, Velma.

Then I guess I better smell good for Angela Lansbury.

Oh, my God, you're a genius.

How did you know the perfume would do that?

My shrill voice usually repels bats.

So when they attacked me in the well,

I knew it had to be the perfume driving them crazy.

Ahhh! Get, them off! Get them off!

Wait, no. Keep them on.

Velma, how did you know we were down here?

Was Fred right about the government putting trackers in those vaccines?

No. After connecting General Meeting to Jones Gentlemen's Accessories,

it was obvious.

So, it is the ghost of Dr. Edna Perdue. I knew it!

Don't be an idiot, Fred. It's the ghost

of General Harry Meeting.

Stop before I think less of you. Just let me explain.

This all began when the serial killer tried to frame me

for the murders of Brenda and Krista

by putting them in my locker and recycling bin.

But then Fred raged out in court

and went to prison for those murders instead.

Oh, yeah, I remember that.

Wow, crazy couple of weeks.

But the third body, Lola's, wasn't used to frame me. Why?

Because the serial killer needed a body fast

to exonerate Fred and get him out of prison.

But why would the serial killer want Fred out of prison,

only to then take him at Fog Fest?

Because the serial killer is...

- Mother? - Victoria Jones?

Formerly known as Victoria Meeting,

the daughter of General Harry Meeting.

Once I learned of her past, it all made sense.

I mean, first off, only a real monster

has a destination wedding in Bali.

What? Mother, how could you?

Because she wanted to replace your brain

with that of someone more capable

of one day running Jones Gentlemen's Accessories.

Replace my brain? Hold up.

Am I not your special number-one little guy?

I tried to encourage you, Freddie, but in the end,

I couldn't let your incompetence ruin my life's work.

The way my father's incompetence ruined Project SCOOBI.

Huh? I thought Project SCOOBI failed

because Dr. Perdue went insane trying to swap people's brains.

That's the public story. The truth is

Dr. Perdue succeeded in her brain-swapping procedure.

But then my father tried to take all the credit for her work.

When Dr. Perdue found out,

she undid the experiment,

bricked up her lab and hid her journal,

so her work couldn't be recreated.

But hoping to make her talk,

my father had her institutionalized.

But Dr. Perdue didn't crack,

and without the journals, my father couldn't reproduce her results.

Project SCOOBI was shut down.

- No! - And we lost everything.

Wait. Our family was also poor?

Can this day get any worse?

To save us from financial ruin,

I married William Jones, the man whose family business

supplied the pocket watches my father used for hypnosis.

- You love me, right? - Shh.

And after building Jones Gentlemen's Accessories

into a global brand,

you couldn't stand to see it undone by your own son.

So you decided to give him a better brain

by buying this house

and finding Dr. Perdue's journals.

But your mom had already found them.

So, when my mom showed up here two years ago,

you hypnotized her

and made her rebuild the lab, while you found

the perfect brain to put in Fred's head.

Case closed.

Okay, but why pick the brain of a hot, popular girl?

We're literally the only murders people care about.

Because I wanted someone like me.

An ambitious, status-conscious young woman

who could appreciate what she might achieve

as the male president of a global corporation.

But now I see the perfect brain for Fred

is the one I tried hardest to keep away.

William.

Oh, God. Look at his eyes. He's hypnotized.

I had no choice.

The poor fool figured out what I was up to.

Victoria!

Think this through. Once my brain is in Fred,

I'll just go to the police.

Right after I've looked at myself naked.

No, you won't, Velma,

because not only are you brilliant,

who more than you would truly appreciate

the advantages of being a handsome, rich white man?

Oh, advantages? You think we like

being president of the United States 97% of the time?

The job sucks!

Having spent time with the Brains,

I was reminded that hot, popular girls your age

don't yet realize just how much the deck is stacked against them.

But a stumpy know-it-all with bad eyes

and a worse haircut, such as myself, would.

You know what, Victoria?

You're right. I am so in.

- What? - Velma!

- Fred will die. - And worse, be embarrassed!

Exactly. I am so sick of rich guys like you

not only not realizing how much is handed to them,

but still thinking they're the victims

when they mess everything up

because of their lazy entitlement and fragile egos.

My ego is not fragile.

- Ahhh! - Yes!

Rage, Fred. Rage with the anger

of a dad who just bumped his head and break your restraints.

No! What are you doing? Stop!

Fred, your mom is getting away!

You did this!

No, Fred. I only said those things to rile you up.

I mean, yes, I feel that way, but...

No. I'm glad you said it, Velma.

Only friends tell each other the truth.

And I'm proud to call you a friend,

no matter how annoying I find your voice.

Wow. I'm already loving our new truth dynamic.

Now get out of here. I'll stop my mom.

Hello, Mother.

Freddie, I'm sorry.

But I, um... I have an excuse.

- A good one. - Really?

Quick, find the button that makes the bucket go up.

It doesn't work like that. We have to climb.

I see.

So, I guess I just live down here now?

- Victoria? How? - It's not Victoria.

Mother never could have wanted to swap my brain.

She told me she's been possessed by the ghost of Dr. Edna Perdue.

It made so much sense when she told me,

I accidentally dropped the gun and, well...

Here we are.

So, say your goodbyes, girls,

as I'm about to transfer your brains to these cave walls.

Velma, if this is the end,

I need you to know that I love you.

- I love you too, Norville. - What?

- Norville? - Daphne!

I mean, I love you, Daphne.

Velma, I got your VM. Voice mail.

And I love you too!

Norville, watch out!

Well, it appears I've gotten away with it,

you meddling ki...

Mother? Ghost of Dr. Perdue? Hello?

Oh, my God. She's dead.

Like, really dead.

It's over.

It's finally over.

This feels amazing!

Like, best day ever! I solved the case! Happy dance!

It's true.

I'd solved the case for good.

But like all prestige detectives,

had I actually lost more than I found?

Vermin Dorkley Day!

And we also have keys for your friends.

We're not friends. Norville killed my mother.

She tried to kill me first.

Only because she was possessed by the ghost of your grandma.

Fred. Ghosts are not real.

Oh, what a surprise.

Velma's standing up for Norville, the love of her life.

No, that's stupid.

Sure, my personal life was in shambles, but I got my mom back!

Okay, so it's a dark mystery origin story of Boo Boo Bear.

TV got even better while you were kidnapped.

All right, sounds great. Turn it up.

And maybe shut the curtains.

Velma, did you change the locks again?

Let us in. We still live here. Hello?

Still, all our lives were changed forever by what had happened.

I can't sleep, Dad.

It's either my Spanish test tomorrow,

or the fact that I killed Fred's mom.

Have you tried marijuana?

What?

And events had been set in motion

that could not be reversed.

Because little did we know

the real mystery was just starting.

Well, Cogburn, here's everything I used to catch the serial killer,

bring home my mom, and basically embarrass your entire force.

Oh, it takes more than that to embarrass us.

But you ever feel like becoming a real detective, we could use you.

You've got a sharp brain.

Thank you.

That actually means a lot.

Uh, yeah, almost like a man.

Another thing Velma was right about.

No such thing as ghosts.

Hello? Hello, hello?