Original subtitles

[GRUNTING]

How is he?!

He's awake, I think.

Pop, can you hear me?

Blink if you can.

Or... a wink is good.

- Is he conscious? - Half.

Half? He's semi-conscious?

No. Half of him is conscious.

- Here they come again! - [MACHINE-GUN FIRE]

Aah! Aah! Eat it! Eat it!

They're getting away!

Not on my watch.

Bring her in close and hit them with both barrels.

Damn it!

I hate those creepy little bastards!

Hank! Incoming! Aim low!

[GUN CLICKS]

I'm out of gun food!

[GRUNTS]

Hey! Come on! Whoa!

[BOTH SCREAM]

[TIRES SCREECH]

Not him! T-This guy! Ohh!

We have visual confirmation.

Shall we continue pursuit on foot?

21: Negative. Fall back, pupa twins.

That's a Catholic hospital -- hallowed ground.

Damn.

[INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS]

[PAPER TEARING]

[LAUGHING] Aw, this guy!

Why, I ought to...

[LAUGHTER]

[COUGHING]

[AIR HISSES]

You want some of this?

Huh? N-No thanks.

I don't think I can eat.

Ugh. I know. He looks awful.

He's lost so much weight.

He looks like a gorilla suit with nobody in it --

wearing David Byrne's "Stop Making Sense" suit.

Did you even know he was sick?

No. Nobody told me.

Ugh.

Well, "there but for the grace of God" --

none of us are getting any younger.

Yeah, well, one of us ain't getting much older, either.

And this one is from...

Hey, the Monarch!

[LAUGHING] Hey!

Thanks, roomie!

[CHUCKLES, COUGHS]

Hey, babe, looks like the henchmen are back.

We got to go debrief them.

Huh? Oh. U-Uh...

Just start without me, okay?

Are you okay?

Y-You don't want to hear how 21's first solo command went?

Yeah, yeah.

I-I'll be in later.

All right.

[SIGHS]

I remember my first solo command.

[PAPER TEARS]

Nobody told me.

HATRED: I-It's better this way, Dean.

Your pop was suffering,

and t-there just wasn't any more they could do for him.

[VOICE BREAKING] They could have tried, darn it!

I know. I know.

But he didn't have any insurance, and, well...

they wouldn't accept my Diners Club.

So you got to be strong for him now.

You got to buck up and be that super-scientist

he'd want you to be.

Okay. I'll-- I'll try.

Good boy.

Okay, Hank! Hit it!

We got one!

Geez, you got to do that? I'm right here.

White, we're needed!

Let's roll.

[ENGINE REVS]

Conjectu-cycle nav-computer

estimates arrival at Venture compound

in t-minus two minutes.

Prepare for separation.

We are go for separation.

Separation in three, two, one.

Conjectu-cycle com-link systems test.

Do you copy, white leader?

Copy that, blue leader. Over.

This is the best 10 million bucks we ever spent.

Over.

That's a big 10-4. Over.

Approaching Venture compound.

Prepare for Conjectu-Cycle module reintegration rendezvous.

Conjectu-one ready for rendezvous.

Conjectu-two ready for rendezvous.

Rendezvous in three...

two... one...

Rendezvous successful.

Conjectu-cycle reintegration complete.

Prepare for emergency separation.

Separate!

[TIRES SCREECH, SPLASH]

[INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS]

Okay, okay, okay.

One at a time. Please.

Pistol�!

Pistol�.

We are getting hammered out there!

Sergeant Hatred does not share Brock's aversion to firearms,

and now even their robot's packing heat!

We need body armor.

Well, what's that you're wearing?

I had to buy this myself online!

I'm out-of-pocket an AT-AT walker,

two Greedos, and a landspeeder.

And not everyone here has Star Wars duplicates

to sell on eBay.

Half these guys weren't even born when Empire came out,

and the rest are barely making minimum wage!

You guys get paid?

And another thing -- retractable wings.

I mean, t-this is ridiculous!

These things are just big, clumsy,

orange "kill me" signs on the battlefield.

And it's not like it's any better when we get back here.

Every doorway in this cocoon is tapered at the arch.

Well, we're not changing any doors,

but we'll take the wing thing under consideration.

I have a better solution.

And I've brought some visual aids.

Big screen!

Gentlemen, and lady,

I give you the henchman of the future.

[COUGAR ROARS]

The mighty Monarch Mark-V hench-suit.

Made of flexible poly-alloy,

they are lightweight, fireproof, and bulletproof.

In keeping with our insect theme,

the turbo-hydraulic exoskeleton

increases the wearer's strength and agility tenfold.

But it's not all about defense.

The Mark-V also boasts

an impressive array of offensive weapons,

including grappling spears, gas-propelled rockets,

and 25-millimeter heat-seeking, fire-and-forget missiles

all controlled via heads-up display

built right into the state-of-the-art helmet.

Which reminds me -- people,

I'm told you're using too much bandwidth,

so if you're not using the internet for--

Whoa! Whoa! Hey, hey! Wait a minute!

What about my mighty Monarch Mark-V hench-suit?

Oh, come on, 21.

If half that stuff even exists yet,

it would cost a fortune.

Well then, why don't you send us out

to rob a bank or ransom the moon or something?!

Aren't you guys supposed to be supervillains?

We have a more... specialized practice.

Look, w-we just can't afford it right now, okay?

Check out what I just bought!

[LAUGHS]

What the hell is that?

My new butter-glider -- the cutting edge

in insect-themed personal conveyance.

It cost a mint, but look at the hotness!

21: Oh, this is ridiculous!

Unbelievable!

[COUGHING] Why does it smell like french fries?

Biodiesel.

She's a lean, green murder machine!

[LAUGHS] Oh, uh, where are they going?

They're pissed because I just got done explaining

why we can't afford to buy them better equipment,

and you come riding in on that thing.

Honey, they're henchmen.

You don't explain to them.

They do your bidding.

When you say "jump," they say, "what shark?"

You got to be more ruthless.

The Monarch's guys did this to him?

No, no, no.

They didn't lay a glove on him,

thanks to yours truly.

And ours truly.

That's from the M.R.I. they gave him

down at St. Sebastian's.

Guess old Doc had a couple pieces of metal in his body

I didn't know about when I signed the consent form

and, uh, well, he just went all kinds of jiffy pop

inside that thing.

Hey, uh, isn't this right about where

you put those pins in when you reattached his arm?

Okay, come on, people.

Differential diagnosis.

What causes partial paralysis

in a terrifically unhealthy super-scientist Rusty's age?

Stroke is the most likely culprit,

but let's try to think outside the box here.

He's hooked on House. We both are.

Well, the x-rays showed no sign of spinal injury,

and the blood work ruled out snake bite, lyme disease,

and red-tide shellfish poisoning, as well as --

I'm sorry on this one, Dean -- lazy face.

Well, it's still just a theory.

How about gum?

As every schoolboy knows, it's undeniable medical fact

that a piece of gum takes 30 years to digest.

I'm guessing little Rusty here was a swallower back in the day

and those Chiclets are finally coming home to roost.

D-Don't write that.

Hey, uh, don't you have one of them fancy machines

that can just look inside him, you know,

like, uh, with computers?

You mean an M.R.I.?

- Oh. - But he's right.

We need to see inside Rusty's brain,

and to do that, you know what we need?

An aeronaut!

And an armored bear!

A submarine!

Also good.

And we've got one -- the X-3.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

What are you-- Oh, geez! No!

Come on. Not that old clich�.

Clich� nothing! It is a classic!

Innerspace is not a classic.

That's, like, a great film!

Then why don't they make it on DVD, huh, fella?

They totally do!

And whatever -- I was talking about Fantastic Voyage anyway.

? On your metal wings, astride ?

? With your glistening extra parts, you glide ?

? It's just you and I up here ?

? Santa got it wrong with his eight reindeer ?

? I'm butter-gliding ?

? No more hiding things that are wonderful ?

? I'm butter-crying ?

? To be heard over petty jealousy ?

? Let's make love ?

? Butter-glider ?

? Let's find a way ?

? To grind ?

? And all our hot butter-babies ?

? Will fly to the moon ?

The hell's he need a submarine up here in the mountains for, anyway, huh?

I mean, seriously.

Well, we had an X-3.

WHITE: That figures.

Yeah, Rusty probably sold it.

BILLY: Friggin' Rusty!

Where are we supposed to find another submarine?

BROCK: All right, keep it moving.

[SINGSONG VOICE] Who wants fresh cockles?

HUNTER: No way! A thousand times no!

I am not letting those clowns shrink my $40 million,

secretly-funded nuclear submarine

to go fight the fucking cavity creeps!

Then... when our daddy dies,

are you guys prepared to adopt us?

No, but I'd consider an extremely late-term abortion!

Samson, what part of "secret underground headquarters"

does that square head of yours fail to grok?

Look, they live next door.

What am I supposed to do?

Wipe their pink, little minds

and send them back home like I told you.

They discover us every other week.

I can't keep doing that.

It's starting to make them buggy.

Look at this. Dean, what day is today?

Sagittarius.

Good.

Now, Hank, what color is my tongue?

Um... it's kind of... Wednesday --

like-- like a light Wednesday?

[SCOFFS]

All right, fine!

Then you lead the mission.

Hey, now, wait just a minute there, hot-stepper!

I'm leading this mission!

Nuh-unh, tubs. Sphinx sub, Sphinx mission.

- That's how it's gonna be. - Cool!

Aw, you're doing it again!

Tired of you always "Brock-blocking" me, Samson!

I'm head of security!

I'm the new sheriff of Venture town!

I wear the watch now!

That's my band. That's my watch band.

Yeah, well... finders keepers!

Should have thought of that before you pulled a Palin

and adi�sed with your new pals to chase pirates.

Those guys were pirates? Aw, admit it.

You chased much cooler pirates around

when you were on our team, Brock.

BOTH: Hank!

Listen up. You're Doc's bodyguard, right?

'Til they pry him from my cold, dead, "huggin" hands!

Well, who do you think's gonna guard Doc's body

while we're inside it?

M-Me?

Of course!

This whole mission depends on you, Sergeant.

Our lives are all in those...

"huggin" hands.

Well, then what are we waiting for?!

Let's get this mission started right!

Billy! Travel-size 'em!

Huh. Well, that was easy.

HANK: Uh, butterfingers!

It's Operation -- the wacky doctor's game!

All right, boys.

That stopped being funny about 20 minutes ago.

It'll-- It'll come around again if we keep doing it.

Take out his spare ribs for $100.

Oh, you'll never do that!

I said knock it off already!

Don't touch the sides!

Uh... there goes his funny bone!

Oh, don't you start now.

All right, looking good so far, fellas.

You're, uh, coming up on the circle of Willis.

You're gonna want to bear right

and then take it all the way around

till you hit the turn-off to the basilar artery.

What, are you thinking stroke?

Five bucks says it's a brain tumor.

Oh, you're on!

What about you? You want in on this?

Easy money -- White's a sucker.

I don't gamble. Not with Doc's life, anyway,

or, uh, since they threw me out of Mohegan Sun.

Um, hello?!

Sonar's lighting up

like Tony Manero's gonna dance all over it.

We got something big up ahead.

What could it be?

Are we gonna find another new uncle?

Get that light on it.

SHORELEAVE: Ew! Looks like a big piece of--

Gum!

See? What did I tell you?

That's not gum. It's an embolism.

It's a gigantic blood clot,

which means somebody owes me five bucks.

Tumor.

So, uh, you want to tell us what we're doing now?

[GARGLING]

[SPITS]

- [CLANG] - Ow!

- Motherfucker! - What?

What the hell is that thing doing in our bed?!

Get it out of there!

Don't you fucking touch her!

Whoa! What's the matter with you?

You're just jealous!

That's what's going on here!

You-- You never supported me and butter-glider!

Ever!

Okay, wow!

I wrote this off as some kind of midlife-crisis kind of thing,

but this-- This is...

They don't even have a name for what this is.

Why do you have to put a label on everything, huh?!

Why can't you just let me have this?!

Fine!

You can-- You can have y-y-our...

ridiculous fucking butter-glider!

She didn't mean that.

H-Hey, Brock. Check it out.

What the...?

Billy, what's supposed to be inside this thing?

Inside of what? I-It's a clot.

It's made out of clot.

Yeah, well, there's something inside it --

something hard.

And tumor! Pay up!

Oh, my glory!

Pop is a robot -- built by Grandpa Jonas.

I always had my suspicions.

U-Um, uh, Brock?

Holy shit,

so that's what happened to the sevens.

What?

[PINBALL MACHINE DINGS]

[SIGHS]

Sheila, you can do this.

Vodka tonic for the lady.

Uh, what? I-I didn't order anything.

What's going on? I didn't order her a drink.

No, but I did.

Why-- Wait, that's impossible.

No one can see you but me.

Fuck, I am losing my mind.

You should go talk to her.

No!

She all but openly mocked my body-armor idea.

That's because it was retarded.

You're the one who told me to pitch it!

Yeah, I also told you to find my real killers.

How's that going, O.J.?

Look, just talk to her.

You two need each other.

- No. - Too late.

How'd you know what I drink?

It's a good henchman's job

to know everything about their primary --

birthday, favorite drink...

Can I return the favor? What's your poison?

Protein shake. I try to stay fit.

I've noticed.

Oh, my God! She is so hitting on you!

- Shush! - Hmm?

Oh, nothing.

So, uh, what are you doing here?

[SIGHS]

I needed to get away from the Monarch for awhile.

24: Here it comes.

And I have a little proposition for you.

She's gonna ask you to sleep with her to make him jealous.

Shush!

He's gone absolutely crazy

over that stupid butter-glider of his.

The only other thing I've ever seen him get

even close to that obsessed about

is Dr. Venture.

So I'll make you a deal.

[SINGSONG VOICE] I smell a threesome.

- I'm listening. - You go get Dr. Venture for me,

and I'll look into getting you that body armor

and those retractable wings you wanted.

Huh.

That's a pretty sweet deal,

but I'm gonna have a hell of a time

selling it to these guys after today.

Some of them are even talking about going on strike.

Well, maybe they should.

We did it! He's going back to normal!

High five!

Yo! Intruder on the grounds!

Eh, probably just one of those S.P.H.I.N.X. clowns

forgot his keys again.

Yeah.

[GROANS]

I'll check it out.

I-I still don't understand why

anyone would want to steal our clothes,

shrink themselves, and drive a submarine into Pop.

It just doesn't make sense.

Yeah, a-and where were we while all this was going on, huh?

Look, enough with the questions already.

That's... exactly what happened, okay?

Oh, for the love of-- They left the parking brake on.

[CREAKING, ENGINE TURNS OVER]

All right, Billy, we're back in business.

Great.

You're gonna want to follow Shoreleave

and start heading up to Doc's tear ducts for extraction.

I'll walk you through it.

Race you, Brock of ages!

HANK: Ooh, can I drive?

Yeah, I don't think that's such a good idea.

[GROANS]

Boy, for a covert splinter operation,

you S.P.H.I.N.X. guys sure aren't very discreet.

Huh? Ah.

Sorry to disappoint you fellas,

but you ain't gonna be doing any arching tonight.

Yeah, we got what you might call

a, uh, medical emergency on our hands here

and, well, the Monarch knows it's against Guild rules.

Yeah, that might be a problem.

Well, I should say so--

If we worked for the Monarch.

You see, we're what you might call "on strike,"

so no Monarch, no Guild.

No Guild, no Guild rules.

[GASPS]

They've gone rogue!

Code red! Code red!

Rogue henchmen on the grounds!

[GRUNTING]

[ALARM BLARING, GUNFIRE]

[GRUNTS]

[H.E.L.P.eR. BEEPS]

[MACHINERY WHIRS]

[SCREAMS]

[GRUNTING]

What's going on there, fella?

[GRUNTING]

[GRUNTS, INHALES SHARPLY]

[SCREAMS]

I might be having a heart attack!

I am overweight, over 50,

and I am speedballing tranq darts

and pure adrenaline!

Okay.

You should maybe put the gun down.

I-I don't know.

He just went off half-cocked.

H-He threatened to quit and everything --

said, "If the Monarch isn't man enough

to kill Dr. Venture once and for all,

I am."

Ven-- D-Did you just say... V-Venture?

I-I'm just quoting 21.

My enemy? My arch-enemy?!

Maybe you and your butter-glider should

talk some sense into him?

[GROWLS]

You got to be ruthless.

[H.E.L.P.eR. BEEPING]

[CHEERING]

We have been compromised!

Into the panic room! Now! Now!

Now! Now! Now!

21!

I think you dropped something.

Mayday! Mayday! Billy!

What the hell's going on up there?!

Panic room!

- No! - Yes! Yes!

Stop it now!

You freak, they're still in there!

You'll kill them!

[SCREAMS]

What is your primary objective, soldier?!

Sir, to protect the body at all costs

even unto death, sir!

[LAUGHS EVILLY]

Oh, uh, you're not Hank and Dean.

Who the hell are you?

Uh... due to a medical emergency,

the parts of Hank and Dean will be played

by Billy Quizboy and Pete White this evening.

Pete White? Didn't you go to State?

Uh... y-yeah.

Y-Y-You had that radio show, The White Zone,

White Noise, something?

- The White Room. - White Room! Right!

Yeah, yeah. No, I used to listen to you.

Oh, well, I'm flattered.

[LAUGHING] God. Small world, huh?

Small, funny, little world.

Anyway!

[LAUGHS EVILLY]

Rise and shine, Venture!

I want you to be awake for this.

[CHUCKLES]

[ALARM BLARING]

Can't stabilize her!

Boys! Brace yourselves!

We're gonna crash!

[ELECTRICITY CRACKLES]

Oh! Ow!

[BOTH SCREAMING]

[GROANS]

Heh.

So, you got a little fight in you after all, huh, Venture?

Well, what do you say we step outside?

[LAUGHING EVILLY]

[GRUNTING]

[LAUGHING CONTINUES]

[GRUNTING]

Come on! Aah!

Aah!

[COUGHING]

[GASPING]

[METAL CREAKING, GROANING]

[UP-TEMPO MUSIC PLAYS]

BROCK: I don't know, man.

You're the neurosurgeon.

You tell me.

Well, can you describe what you see?

HANK: Everything's all...

Wednesday in here.

Pink. He means pink.

Oh, yeah, that narrows it down.

Uh, it's kind of narrow a-and tubular and soft looking,

like a lily, b-but it's all streaky, too -- like meat.

It's exactly like a meat lily. Over.

Okay, I got them.

They're in... they're in his prostate.

So how do we get them out?

You got to be kidding me.

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