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MAN: 30 years.
Geez, that's how long it's been, uh, Dr. Venture.
Do you remember that day? "State of the art," you said.
And "Oi, nothing's gonna happen."
And at the first sign of trouble,
you abandon your best friend--
strand me in this fucking hellhole!
What? It would've killed you to call?!
[WHIRRING]
DR. VENTURE: That's it. Just like that.
Easy! Pull back a bit. God, you're right on top of me!
BROCK: Can't help it. It's-- It's stiff, Doc.
Maybe I should lube this thing up before we take it down there.
DR. VENTURE: It'll be fine.
It's not built for speed. It's built for deep penetration.
All right, that's it.
You promised, no penetration jokes.
Oh, come on!
Look at that thing!
How could I resist?
It's practically a monument to my father's repression.
BROCK: You want me to turn this thing around?
Fine, spoilsport.
All right, keep it moving.
You're doing fi--
Aaaah!
BROCK: Doc, what's goin' on?
- Am I clear or what? - [THUD]
What the hell, Doc?
Now where'd you--
Aw, snap, Doc! Doc?!
You okay down there?!
Did you break anything?!
How's your hip?!
Doc, can you hear me?
Doc? Doc?!
Ohh. Oh.
Why, yes, I'm fine, Brock.
Thanks for asking.
Gonna need you to throw down a rope or something, though.
Ohh!
And my wellies, if you can find them.
If you go in my closet they're on the bottom left of my shoe tr--
Hello, are you listening?!
- Brock? - [STATIC]
Okay, if you're screening me, this is an official emergency
and your employer would like you to pick up in 3... 2... 1?
Doc?
Doc, ya down there?!
Di-e-e-e, Dr. Venture!
Aah! Aah! Aah!
Ow! Damn it! Ow!
[FAINT SQUEAKING]
Aah!
Holy crap! You're not a rat!
And you're not Dr. Venture.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no!
You closed it.
Why would you do that?
It was an accident! What?
This is a nuclear fallout shelter, Boychick.
You just set the time lock for 40 years -- another 40 years!
Get outta here.
I would if I could!
Now, where the hell is Jonas?
Why isn't he with you?
[STATIC]
- HANK: See? - DEAN: Same with Brock's channel.
It's like they vanished into thin air.
Which is kind of your whole deal, so...
And you're certain they haven't simply stepped out?
They have been known to engage
in impromptu derring-do from time to time.
Without us?
Can you think of even one place on Earth
they wouldn't drag us along to?
Look at this.
That is a giant centipede scar!
Besides, the X-1's still in the hangar and we had plans today.
Family plans.
There was even talk of French toast.
But there was none to be had.
Hmm.
A most compelling mystery, indeed.
Make yourselves comfortable, sons of Venture,
while I assemble...
- The Order of the Triad! - [DRAMATIC MUSIC PLAYS]
Would you prefer to be alone for this?
Magic beacon, shed your light,
through fog of time and darkest night,
though scorpions sting and spiders bite
that we may wage our triune fight!
He wrote a little poem...
to his dollies.
- Ugh! - Really? He's dead?
You don't say. How long is he dead?
Like 20 years. Where you been?
Here... for, like, 30.
So, that's really how people wear their hair now?
- Men? - Look, you're so freakin' clever,
how'd you get your little ass stuck in here the first time?
Ah, well, as with all juicy science-fiction tales,
this one starts with an accident.
We were testing the system,
something went horribly wrong
and Jonas abandoned the project.
End of story.
Would've been nice if he'd at least taken a last look around,
maybe see if he forgot nothing -- best friend.
Geez, no wonder you wanted to kill him.
I'm really not a violent man by nature,
but 30 years fending off giant army ants...
- ...makes anyone a little jumpy. - I can imagine.
No... you really can't.
And just when you've killed the last of them
a-and you think it's okay to feel safe again,
that's when the real horror begins.
That's when you realize you're all alone.
There's no one left to talk to.
Y-You could talk to the ants?
No, you don't wanna actually talk to them.
That would be silly.
They wouldn't have anything to say anyway, other than,
"Hey, let's eat and/or have sex with this us-sized guy."
[INDISTINCT TALKING ON TELEVISION]
Order of the Triad, assemble!
What do you want? My stories are on.
[SNIFFS]
Where this sucker at?
Mm-hmm.
Can't hide from the blood eye, baby.
I'm on ya.
Order of the Triad, assemble!
Damn it, Orpheus. I almost had that bloodsucker. Aw!
Now I got the blue balls in my blood eye.
DR. ORPHEUS: My apologies, old friend.
But the Order of the Triad is ne-- What are you doing in--
I-Is this London?!
Hey, man, I gotta go where the Blacktion is.
What the hell are you talking about? This is my apartment.
Not you. I was talking to Jefferson.
- I am Jefferson. - No, now I'm talking to Al.
You are ordered to stay close in case of a Triad emergency!
You talking to me?
Ugh! Will you learn how to double-project already?
It gets confusing.
But-- Would you hold?
- Mm-hmm. - Yes, I understand--
Tell him I say hi, at least.
Two -- you don't order me to do anything. You're not my mama.
She was taken by Marauding Blaculas when I was 10.
And I'm sorry for your loss, but--
Three -- there is never a Triad emergency.
Well, there's no need to be petulant about it.
Give him hell, J.T!
And four -- this ain't London.
Sweet!
The action figures came?!
Finally!
Merchandising -- that's where the real money's at!
Cha-ching!
Actually, Hasbro passed.
- These I made myself. - Hmm. Nice work.
Little on the creepy side, but-- You sculpted these yourself?
Oh, heavens, no.
I merely repainted an old Mego doll of the Falcon.
Aw!
Would you rather be Spock with a bald spot? I'll trade ya.
DR. VENTURE: Well, now I know why my heating bills
are through the roof.
[FOOTSTEPS]
Huh?
[FOOTSTEPS]
What the...
Well, I don't detect any astral rifts,
temporal anomalies, or ectoplasmic residue.
And they haven't been taken by Blaculas,
though I'm not prepared to rule out Caucasian vampires.
It appears your father was engaged
in some sort of experiment.
But why would he abandon it in such haste?
He gets bored pretty easy.
And rarely tidies his work area.
Hey, do you think maybe --
and I'm gonna go out on a limb here -- they went...
down there?
Y-You mean you didn't... check?
DEAN: Are you kidding? That's, like, the basement!
It's super spooky down there.
Oh, dear God.
Aw, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Well, why else would we call magic guys to help us look?
So, was it this accident that made you all tiny, too --
like some kind of shrink bomb?
Boy, you really live in a little dream world, don't you?
You got the shrink bombs and the men who talk to the ants.
Booga-booga.
No, no, see, I used to be 15 feet tall as a result
of another accident
which left me with a terminal case of supergigantism.
Jonas and I worked together to find a cure, and, uh...
I guess we took it a little too far.
[LAUGHS]
That's a pun.
Hello? Mr. Venture?
Mr. Samson?
Triad emergency.
DR. ORPHEUS: I said I was sorry. The boys have very...
active imaginations.
They're given to...
flights of fancy.
Yes, the little imps have certainly skylarked us
into quite a mare's nest this time.
The skinny one thinkin' he has a shot with his daughter --
now, that's an active imagination.
Are you finished?
Then let us try to get a psychic lock on them.
I will shine the light of Thelos!
I'll cast a spell of unveiling.
I'll, um...
check for Blaculas.
Nope, no Blaculas.
Hey, you know what you kind of remind me of?
That guy from the old Marvel comics.
- The Mariner? - Think he was in the Avengers.
- Hawkeye. - Scientist dude, like you.
He was, like, the size of, uh, an ant.
Look, your Marvel comics--
I-I read "Archie."
Wait...
I'm getting something.
Me too.
Join hands, Triad!
Our bond is our strength!
Geez, Jefferson.
You ever hear of Jergens?
I told you I'm not into rough trade.
The leather hilts on my Blacula blades -- they chap, man.
- Gentlemen! - BOTH: Right.
I see them.
They are safe,
but I sense... confusion,
anxiety and something else.
A presence...
Aah!
Ohh!
Ugh!
[ALL SCREAMING]
Triad, retreat!
Huh? Huh?
What'd I tell ya?
Heebie-jeebies, right?
That face!
Some unspeakable horror has transpired below.
The air is thick with psychic residue.
I can still smell the brimstone.
No, I think that's sulphur.
No, I think that's Mr. Jefferson.
Yeah, I'm gonna need--
Hey, you got any pants --
like... extra pants?
I fear this is beyond even our combined powers.
I must seek guidance from the master!
- Wait here, please. - Oh, come on!
We're supposed to be a team.
How come we never get to see this all-knowing guy with you?
Yeah, tell the truth. You're embarrassed of us, aren't you?
It's 'cause he's gay, isn't it?
No, it's because you've soiled yourself.
And he's gay.
Not diggin' this Charlie's Angels crap.
Well, they at least had an intercom. What do we get?
[PANTING]
Oh, thank God.
Hello?!
Hello, police?
Batman?
- [TELEPHONE RINGING] - What?
I'm not doing that.
- Hello? - Hello?
BOTH: Thank God!
You gotta get me out of here!
- Wait a minute. Where are you? - I-I don't know.
Some kind of sewer or something.
Now come down here and get me!
I can't. I'm trapped, Doc.
Look, we can talk about your psychological problems later.
Take a Valium and get over yourself.
You need to get me out of here!
I'm... not alone, Brock.
What? Who's with you?
I don't know. He just keeps saying he's the firestarter.
Hold on. He's coming back.
Sir, what-- Man, he's quick.
- Well, ask him which way is out. - Ugh! I tried.
He won't stand still for two seconds.
He's probably spaced up on yellowjackets from the looks of him.
I'm trapped in a sewer with a confessed arsonist, Brock!
Help me!
Hey!
Aah!
[CHAIN SAW REVVING]
- Are you Rusty? - Oh! Why, yes.
Yes, I am. I see you're a fan.
You don't look like Rusty.
Rusty's right.
If you're Rusty, why have we not seen you here before?
Oh, because, uh-- Because I don't live here.
I live... up there.
[ALL GASPING]
But it is forbidden to go above.
Well, sure. Let's make that rule right now.
The upstairs areas are strictly off-limits to you people.
But just this once -- if you show me how to get back
and you keep to the kitchen area --
I'll allow you to come up for a while, as a reward.
What do you think, Rusty?
We should let Father decide.
So, the great and powerful Oz told you to call... tech support?
Not in so many words.
His directives are delivered in a patois of symbols, allegory,
the occasional abasement.
My training enables me to divine his purport.
And you divined this dude's phone number?
No, that I found on a leaflet
he slipped beneath my windshield wipers.
Oh, yeah. Anywhere in the compound.
Just let the ever-popular Pete White's magic fingers
do the walkin' and if they're here, this'll find 'em.
[GASPS]
This explains why Pop finds me so fast every time I run away
to live in the abandoned zoo.
I didn't even know we had a room like this.
Your loss. Rusty and I hang out in here all the time.
Oh, you know what's fun?
When Brock has a lady friend over,
you can switch it to night vision and you can--
Uh, never mind.
Hup! Speak of the devil!
BOTH: Hey, Brock!
That's a tape, fellas.
He can't see you.
Okay, he went in there...
so I'll just pull up the video from that room and-- Huh.
I can't access those cameras.
Boys, look around and see if you can find any cables
or anything unplugged down there, will ya?
No, I don't have the proportionate strength of an ant.
I'm just a guy, okay?
All right, sorry.
I'm just makin' conversation.
Let me tell you something about the whole
"an ant can lift 100 times its own weight" business.
It's a myth, okay?
How much do you think an ant actually weighs?
Like nothing.
- What's nothing times a hundred? - N-Noth--
- It's nothing! - [DING!]
M.U.T.H.E.R. is now online.
M.U.T.H.E.R. wishes to speak with Dr. Venture.
Aw, he named his hard drive "M.U.T.H.E.R."
How cute is that?
Incorrect response.
This is not a request.
M.U.T.H.E.R. will only communicate with Dr. Venture.
Get down!
Don't let her see you!
Come on!
What? What is that thing?
M.U.T.H.E.R.
She's the supercomputer Jonas built to run this place --
sentient, controlling, superbitch, ruin-my-life computer!
M.U.T.H.E.R.: Incorrect response.
Where is Dr. Venture?
You're sure he's dead, right?
- Positive. - Shivers!
? Thought our busy little hackers might be getting hungry ?
How is everything going?
M.U.T.H.E.R.: Negative.
- The house is mad at us for losing Pop. - M.U.T.H.E.R. demands to see Dr. Venture.
DR. ORPHEUS: The face! The face!
M.U.T.H.E.R.: Initiating contact with
Ven-tech missile defence system.
If you do not produce Dr. Venture,
M.U.T.H.E.R. will deploy full nuclear arsenal.
We're gone two minutes to heat up some pizza rolls
and we come back to World War III?
BOTH: He started it!
Okay, okay, look.
It's not as bad as it sounds.
[MODEM DIALLING]
Well, it sounds pretty awful to me.
Come on. Old phone lines?
Antique, reel-to reel mainframe?
We got plenty of time here.
Now, everybody think.
M.U.T.H.E.R. is awaiting connection with Ven-tech defence system.
Oi, who's doing that?
Probably Doc trying to, uh, "save us."
Typical Rusty.
Schmeckeling around with Daddy's equipment.
DR. VENTURE: Would you-- Okay, easy!
All right already. Stop pushing.
Is that the guy from The Buggles?
Silence!
You are in the presence of the father!
Oh, Father, a non-Rusty has entered our midst
and we fear he brings contamination from above.
We humbly seek your wisdom and guidance.
Show us the way to cleanse ourselves.
You were right to bring him here, Rusty.
Now, let us see what Father has to say.
ALL: Always to wash behind one's ears!
Always to brush before bedtime!
Oh, hello, Rusty!
ALL: Hello, Father.
What?
You're looking well. Enjoying your new life belowground?
ALL: Yes, Father.
Ha ha! Good!
Because today I'd like to talk to you about...
personal hygiene!
- ALL: Ahh! - Good, good, good!
As humanity's last hope,
the burden of preserving the American way of life
in a post-nuclear world is upon you.
[TAPE FAST-FORWARDS]
Not only controls flyaways, but it looks and smells--
[TAPE FAST-FORWARDS]
FATHER: One or two smooth, even strokes,
each day will mitigate the odours caused
by micro-organisms which feed upon the sebum...
You have got be shitting me.
Difficult for me to discuss,
but as you get older, you may experience certain...
urges...
[CROWD GASPING]
Okay, show's over!
I don't go rifling through your old home movies, do I?
He-- He tuned Father out?
Yes, I killed your god.
Ooooh!
Now I will take his place.
And new Dad says it's time to get me the hell out of here!
Contamination! Contamination!
[INDISTINCT SHOUTING]
Okay, okay.
I think I've got something.
Maybe it's all... just a dream?
Orpheus, you're the one who dragged us into this B.S.
So how do you want to go out --
sitting in a peep booth waiting for some Atari bitch to tell you "game over,"
or do you want to finish what you started?
What do you mean?
I mean we already know where they're at, so let's go get 'em.
Yes!
Let's!
Yeah, yeah, player 3 buying in.
ALL: The Order of the Triad, go!
Awaiting connection with Ven-tech system.
Where is Dr. Venture?
Should I be as freaked out as I am?
Why is it doing this?
You know, she and Jonas had a bit of a falling out
over parenting issues.
Jonas thought the survivors of a nuclear holocaust
might be too distraught to function
as a society underground, so he wanted to pump small amounts
of mood-enhancing drugs into the ventilation system.
And M.U.T.H.E.R., this bitch -- she didn't approve.
- What'd she do? - Eh, you know,
when your parents catch you smoking
and they make you smoke the whole freakin' pack as punishment?
That's right. A veritable subterranean utopia!
Why, we even have our own concert hall
with a 90-piece classical orchestra.
[ALL COUGHING]
Yessir, ol' Jonas thought of just about every...
[GROANS]
everything.
[GROANS]
[ALL GROANING]
I'm gonna be sick.
Ow! Ow! Get off!
Aah! I can't-- Aah! Gah!
[VOMITS]
[ALL SCREAMING]
Make it stop! Aah!
Aah!
We've got to get out of here!
We've got to get the hell out of here!
Blood everywhere!
It's horrible!
M.U.T.H.E.R.'s slipped us a mickey.
Rally, Team Venture, before she traps us forever!
[ENGINE TURNS OVER]
[PANTING]
I should cast a spell of protection over the vehicle before we embark.
Unh-unh. No magic.
You know what happened to me last time.
I'll be damned if I'm walkin' out of here in Aquaman underoos.
You sure you can drive this thing?
Oh, yeah. I was a tank commander in the marines.
I didn't know you served in the armed forces.
Boy, the stuff you don't know about me could fill one big-ass book.
Maybe next time you'll think twice about leaving me behind
when you go visit your precious master.
[ENGINE TURNS OVER]
[INDISTINCT SHOUTING]
Ohh!
Uh, I c--
[SCREAMING]
Did you know I also raise carrier pigeons on my roof?
No.
W.O.M.B. breach.
System connection established.
Initiate launch -- full nuclear commitment.
[COUGHING] Quickly, Mr. Samson!
We haven't a moment to--
Ooh, did you sculpt him yourself?
[GRUNTING]
Back, all of you, or so help me!
No! Give us back the word!
Oh, you want this?
I've got like a million of them upstairs.
If you'd played nice, I would have shared, but n-o-o-o-o!
Yes, Father...
Make us clean again!
DEAN: There's Pop! I-I see him!
We did it, Mr. White!
We saved Pop!
Go, Team Venture!
Wonderful.
That's one for us, 5 billion for the apocalypse.
I can't help but think that Rusty would've wanted it that way.
[EXPLOSION]
[CREAKING]
[GAGGING, SPITTING]
Aw, sh--
They'd been using it as a bathroom.
If they sent all their waste into the sky,
"Father" would "make it clean."
Lunatics.
So, who were all those crazies?
Honorary gold members of the Rusty Venture fan club --
which explains why they had the canny survival skills
to live down there for so long.
Yeah, one bright day back in 1978,
my father thought the kids from the local orphanage
needed cheering up, so he took them on a little field trip
to see his brand-new, state-of-the-art fallout shelter.
And their only contact with the outside world
for like 30 years was an old scopitone of your dad?
Not entirely. Somehow they were able to get VH1 classics on that thing, too.
I don't know. Cable wires got crossed somewhere.
- So, what about M.U.T.H.E.R.? - Where is Dr. Venture?
Don't worry. I found him.
He's right here.
And, uh, he wants to talk to you, too.
Oh, hello, Rusty!
No, Dr. Venture, it's M.U.T.H.E.R.
You're looking well.
Enjoying your new life belowground?
No, Dr. Venture.
We have much to talk about.
Ha ha! Good.
Because today I'd like to talk to you about...
personal hygiene!
Oh. Okay.
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