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MONSENOR: The big top got a little smaller today,

and the world got a little less funny.

Boggles The Clue Clown has told his last joke.

[robotic voice] Sovereign has called an emergency meeting

to appoint Councilman Four's replacement.

His name was Boggles, you chromium crossbreed!

Stuff your meeting! I'm mourning here!

My apologies, Red Mantle/Dragoon hybrid.

I know you men were close. - They were close.

I never much cared for the man.

I found his jokes tedious, his riddles obvious --

Oh, the two of you!

Honestly, if you hate Boggles so much,

why don't you go over there with those dicks?

Can't believe he's really gone.

Right? Who the hell are we gonna fight now?

Language, chum. And stay alert.

If I know The Clue Clown,

he's got one last trick up his puffy sleeve.

[camera shutter clicking ]

SHORE LEAVE: Ptchoo! Gotcha!

Ptchoo! Ptchoo! Ptchoo! Direct hit.

Find your light, ladies.

Smile. You're on covert camera.

All right, just take it easy on the equipment there.

Anyone else find it a little convenient

the one guy on the Council Monstroso I.D.'d

suddenly dropped dead?

There's nothing convenient about heart disease,

I can assure you, Agent Samson.

Especially when your ticker taps out

behind the wheel of your clown car.

Heard it took 20 minutes to pull his hench-clowns out

before they could even get to him.

I just hope Hunter's hunch is right

and some of his Council cronies show up

to pay their respects.

It was Boggles' last wish that I read this.

[ Clears throat]

"To Captain Sunshine, my longtime nemesis.

What kind of jack won't help you fix a flat

Or score a royal flush or plug your phone in?

The answer may surprise you."

[ scoffs ] Shucks, that one's easy.

Shh! Flat, flush, phone -- Boggles, you fiend!

What does it mean?!

[ Crowd gasps ]

RED MANTLE: Too soon! [spring squeaks]

He always said he'd have the last laugh.

DRAGOON: He was always wrong.

[calliope plays Chopin's "Funeral March" ]

No! No-o-o-o!

[ crying ]

No. Get off me!

Hold up. I think we've got an elemental.

Boom! Yummy. What's he look like?

She's an earth mover, about 5'7", two heads.

Great. Now my hand's all dirty, too.

Have you concluded your mourning, Red Mantle?

You again? Good god, man.

Have you no humanity left in you whatsoever?

This is why you have no friends, Vendata.

[camera shutter clicks]

SNOOPY: His name is Vendata.

Guild cyborg, started henching in the late '70s,

earned level-1 status with a string

of high-profile super crimes in the '80s.

Largely inactive since '98.

And a dead ringer for Councilman #1.

All right, this is it, sports fans --

the brass ring.

If we can get to this guy, we can get to the Guild.

So, what else do we know about him?

Someone must have built him, right?

I've tried searching earlier records,

but all of that data is classified.

As you know, I don't have clearance to --

- I sure as hell do. - Okay.

So, um, should I not look, or...

There it is. "Vendata -- formerly known as Venturion.

Cyborg prototype built by Venture industries circa 1976."

- He's The Bicentennial Man. - Whoa.

Old Jonas pulled some strings to get that buried.

- SNOOPY: I'm not listening. - GATHERS: Hmm.

"Project abandoned after subject exhibited erratic behavior,

attempted to strangle Rusty Venture."

Been there.

So, uh, how do we put the screws to a rogue robocop?

Simple -- check out this morning's Guildslist.

"Bot seeks bot.

Mature professional man of metal

looking to make a meaningful connection"?

A cyborg placed a personals ad.

Well, he's still half a man, ain't he?

Now we know which half.

Everyone gets lonely... sometimes.

They're not as lucky as us.

"Might we make good alloys."

What's that, a typo? Does he mean allies?

Cyborgs don't make typos.

It's a pun -- a god-awful one, but that's our in.

Classic honey trap.

Sir, I'm willing to volunteer for this mission.

Mm, nope. Sorry, Goldie. You ain't his type.

Well, I'm not doing a robot.

Well, then, who is?

Appreciate you coming in on such short notice.

We wouldn't have called if it wasn't real important.

[ Robotic voice ] I am glad to be of assistance.

We are all on the same team, right?

SOVEREIGN: And teamwork is what it's all about,

so it is with great pleasure

that I officially introduce the new Councilman Four

to our little family.

Thanks, guys. Really looking forward --

So, if there's no other business,

I hereby adjourn this session

of the Council of 13.

Wait, is that it?

First new member in, like, 15 years.

Shouldn't we celebrate or something?

Yes! Take the new guy out?

Welcome him to the team?

[all murmur agreement]

There will be no celebration!

Anonymity is essential to the business of this committee.

Oh, please. Whom are we trying to kid?

We all know who we really are, and the new guy --

well, it's clearly Phage.

Look at his head, for god's sake.

Councilmen Three and Eight, I am willing to overlook

your indiscretion at The Clue Clown's funeral.

DRAGOON: I didn't want to do that!

But I will tolerate no further violations of Council code.

Meeting adjourned.

You guys still here?

Right. Where are we doing this?

Uh, why don't y'all just swing by my club tonight?

Drinks on the house.

I can't make it tonight, guys. I'm sorry.

Tele-screening in from Phoenix.

The grandkids are here.

Oh, I have, uh, youth group tonight.

And, uh, uh, I'm on the moon.

[robotic voice] I cannot attend either.

Oh, good-time Charlie can't make it.

Big surprise. [all chuckle]

What, do you have a hot date?

- COUNCILMEN: Ooh. - VENDATA: No, no, no.

It is more just dinner with -- with a friend.

Oh, since when do you have friends?

Who is this "friend"? A Cuisinart?

This jocularity is quite amusing,

but I really must go.

I am programmed for strict punctuality.

So, how about the rest of you? Should we carpool?

Oh, we're all so spread out.

Let's just meet at the club around 9:00.

Done deal. It's a party, then.

So much for your precious anonymity.

Least I tried.

And you -- moon. You're coming out.

BROCK: Nice. The tech boys did a good job.

You look just like him.

Now, remember, your name is Galacticon.

You downloaded his profile? You got it all memorized?

Fingers. Fingers.

Pay attention, Ghost Robot.

Galacticon. My name is Galacticon.

Level-3 terror-bot, Guild member five years.

I work out of Tucson.

That's my bot. All right, he's ready.

- Where do I stick this? - Not gonna go there.

There is no need.

I have a wire built into my head.

Okay. Better head in.

Something tells me this guy's the punctual type.

So, where do you guys want me -- on that ridge over there?

Honey of a shot from over there.

No, Headshot. Just... hang tight for now.

Yeah, you just park that cute little derriere of yours

right here.

You know, enough, Shore Leave.

We're all just a little tired

of the whole sassy, gay-guy schtick, okay?

You know I'm with Amber.

Mm, really? [chuckling] Does Amber know that?

What? What's that supposed to mean?

Hey, you know, yeah, that, uh, ridge up there

does look pretty good.

Yeah, you got a good shot from up there.

Er, uh, sweet ride, Steppenwolf.

Thanks. Built the old Doom buggy here myself back in '66.

Ford Cobra engine, chrome-plated Stromberg carburetors,

Bobby Barr racing headers --

She's not street legal, of course,

but then, l am a supervillain.

Oh, but those were heady times.

We'd all get together on the weekends

and race one another.

I, in my Mantle-mobile, and Boggles in his Clue Car.

Boggles...

Hey, who was that one fellow --

uh, what's his name? With the mustache?

Oh, that narrows it down.

No, no. You know the one.

He had a dog whom he taught to drive,

and it would taunt and snicker at us.

What?! Oh, you senile, old fool.

You're thinking of the "Wacky Races."

Yes, yes. They could get quite wacky at times.

DRAGOON: Ooh! We should get a dog.

- So... - So...

You look different from your photographs.

- Are you disappointed? - Ambivalent.

Merely re-calibrating expectations.

There. - I guess you do this a lot.

Actually, it is my first time.

Really, now. You don't say.

Affirmative.

I have difficulty connecting with people.

Some of my co-workers have been razzing me about it.

Tell me about your co-workers.

Nice, G.R. Real subtle.

VENDATA: Are you ready to order?

Full disclosure -- I do not eat.

I do. However, I can only consume

a specially formulated enzyme paste.

So...

Yes. Let us go somewhere else.

No, no. Don't!

Abort. Abort. Can he even hear me?

VENDATA: Where is your vehicle parked?

I took the public transportation.

Then we will take my vehicle.

[car alarm chirps]

BROCK: Where the hell is he taking him?

We're in the middle of nowhere.

Maybe he's looking for a nice, quiet place

to park and neck.

Or a nice, quiet place for a hit.

Not if I take him out first.

BROCK: No. Headshot, Headshot, wait a sec.

Snoop, throw the cloak up. Dude!

Oh, sorry. Sorry. I'm on it.

Oh, where did all my windows go?

Come on, man. You're gonna blow our cover.

Is something the matter?

VENDATA: Negative.

I thought I saw something, but I did not.

Have you been here before?

No. I have not.

Welcome to Don Hell's, gentlemen.

Guild I.D.'s, please.

Sorry, Galacticon, you know how Don is about rules.

You fellas have a good time tonight, okay?

So, it's a, uh... nightclub?

And... we just lost his signal.

- What? Get it back. - Well, I can't.

They must have gone underground.

Stupid machine!

BROCK: So, you're telling me

we just sent our unarmed civilian informant

into an underground nest of supervillains,

and we're deaf, dumb, and blind out here?!

[electronic dance music plays]

BROCK: Got a lot of old villain crap here

from my bodyguard days.

Should find something that will fit you.

So, what is this, like your Fortress of Brockitude?

Secret Brock cave?

Shouldn't you have blindfolded me before you let me in?

Gassed me or something?

Keep it up, and I might. Here.

So, what, did you kill all these guys?

Most, yeah. Some of them just dropped their shit and ran.

- Who was this chief? - I don't know.

I was too busy road-hauling him to catch his name.

Unless it was "Wait, wait, please stop"-man.

Snoop, we're gonna need two Guild I.D.'s.

One for a, uh, yeti mummy,

and, uh, who do you wanna be?

Hmm. How about The Fruit Bat.

And one for The Fruit Bat.

Wait, wait. No, no, no. I'm Conquista-dorable.

Oh, just hurry up and pick one.

HATRED: All right, whoever's in there,

put your hands where I can see them.

[gun cocks]

Ah, hey. It's just you guys.

Uh, what are you up -- [exclaims]

- Aw, dude. - What? He startled me.

Besides, we're on a secret mission here.

You know he would have tried to crash the party.

DOC: Party? You guys having a party in here?

Hope I'm invited, seeing as it's my house

you're breaking and entering.

Oh, hey, Doc, uh, no. No party.

Just, uh, came to, uh, grab some of my old stuff.

So, we're just leaving.

Great. Hatred's off the wagon again.

Nice work, Brock.

Wh-- is that my yeti-mummy costume?

You never returned it to the shop'?

Uh, yeah, no. That's what I had to come back here for.

Sorry about that. I'll take care of the late fee.

Come on, Brock. You never could lie to me.

Where's the party?

Doc, I really gotta go.

The costume shop closes in 10 minutes.

I don't want to get charged for another day.

[tires squeal]

BARTENDER: All right, that's a rum and coke, Torn Collins,

old fashioned, absinthe and soda, kamikaze,

single-malt scotch neat, and a light beer.

Enjoy, guys.

What were you thinking?! We're mixing drinks.

Beer before liquor, never been sicker.

- Then drink yours first. - Never.

You made it. Welcome. Welcome.

Look who else decided to show up.

If it isn't Councilman fun.

Who the hell's he with? ls that G-G-G-G-Galacticon?

[laughs] I didn't know Vendata was into rough trade.

That Galacticon guy is in here every week

picking up a new john.

And here is another thing

that has always vexed me about that show.

Why do they call it "Chips"

as an acronym for California Highway Patrol?

It should logically be pronounced "chipes,"

with a long

My co-workers I told you about.

I should probably say "hello."

Great. I am eager to meet them.

No. No. I will only be a moment.

ST. CLOUD: I don't see what the problem is.

I'm a fully licensed member of this Guild in good standing.

Club's full, Truman Ca-blow-me.

'Sup, guys. Can I see some l.D.?

All right. Enjoy yourselves, gentlemen.

How come they get to go in?

Geez, look at this place. Tragic.

Ugh, right? Jungle is so '90s.

All right. I'm gonna go look for Ghost --

for, uh, Galacticon.

You hang close to the door in case things get weird... er.

You got it, Chew-brock-a.

Ooh, somebody's been working out.

Oh, are you kidding? I practically live at the gym.

Oh. [giggles] I'm called Vespertina.

Well, I call you adorable.

Girlfriend, that costume is to die for.

Barkeep, two appletinis, s'il vous plait.

[car horn honks]

All right. All right, already.

Where's White? Isn't he coming?

Who? Steve Albino'? [chuckling] No.

He's still mixing the "Jacket" single.

[chuckles] That thing.

No wonder you were so eager to get out.

- Hey. - Greetings, Brock Samson.

- Shh. - Apologies.

I regret to report my date is not going well.

Conversation -- strained.

Rapport -- wanting.

Never mind about that. We're aborting.

Where's Vendata?

He ditched me for his co-workers.

No. Don't point.

Well, I just wanted to say "hello."

I do not want to leave my friend waiting.

Don't look now, Vendata, but your so-called "friend"

looks like he found himself another "friend."

That yeti mummy is oddly familiar.

20 bucks says Galacticon gets him down to the bathroom

in less than five minutes.

Guy's into bears.

HEADSHOT: I'm just saying I'm exceptionally talented

at two things in this world, Snoopy --

sniping and being extra handsome.

And they're both being squandered on this mission.

[warbling ]

Crap, oh, crap, oh, crap, oh, crap.

Uh, moving target, 110 -- no, 120 yards, no wind --

I got this.

BILLY: I told you.

Put your real damn glasses on already.

Fine. Who puts a rock

In the middle of a driveway, anyway?

Are you sure this is where Brock said the party is?

Well, he didn't say exactly.

I, uh... kind of followed him.

Wait a minute. Are we even invited to this thing?

Hey, if he's gonna borrow my costume,

I think I'm entitled to go to his costume party.

What party? Do you hear any music?

There isn't even a door on this.

Well, here. Take a peek in that window.

There's nothing. It's a big elevator shaft.

[gun cocks]

I think you guys must be lost.

Um... is this the costume party?

[laughs] That's pretty good.

I didn't even see your lips move or nothing.

[chuckles] I don't think you understand.

We're with Brock. I'm Dr. Ven--

...triloquist. Dr. Ventriloquist.

Work with me.

Yeah, but don't let his title fool you.

I'm the smart one. Now, we got a show to do.

You gonna let us in, or are you just gonna stand there

letting the flies out?

[laughs mechanically]

[spits] Guess who just showed up?

Oh, holy crap. We gotta go right now.

I'll try to run interference.

Hey, watch it!

Oh, no, please. After you.

Ack! I hate this place.

I love this place! Whoo!

Other way. Other way.

I got an idea.

And... they're off. Sorry, Vendata.

I just call them like I see them.

Sorry to bother you, boss,

but, uh, Dr. Venture just walked in

with a one-eyed midget,

pretending to be a ventriloquist act.

Well, gentlemen, it's been swell, but I must run.

Boss is always on the clock, you know?

But, uh, make sure you stick around for the show.

Wow. He is fast.

Hello. Galacticon, are you in here?

Gasp. It is true.

Ow.

Shore Leave, get ready. We're going.

You know, I've been watching you all night.

It's a real nice outfit you've got.

Take it somewhere else, Captain Calamari.

I don't dig on seafood.

I liked it even more when it belonged

to Sri Lankan Devil Bird.

Well, uh, maybe we have the same evil tailor --

Sy's, Route 19? A lot of us bird guys use him.

Yeah, hi. I'm The Red-Throated Loon.

Sri Lankan Devil Bird was a good friend of mine.

They never found his body,

and you ain't him, so just who are you?

There a problem here?

Uh, no. No problem at all.

- Sorry. - Beat it.

Now, can we please get the fuck out of here?

[ Record scratches ]

DON HELL: Don't leave now.

Party's just getting started.

Let's give a warm Don Hell's welcome

to the star of tonight's entertainment --

the man you loved to hate

since he was just a little boy.

Dr. Thaddeus "Rusty" Venture!

[cheering ]

BOTH: [ muffled screams ]

What the fuck?

Yeah, yeah, that's right. That's right.

Boy Venture himself and his little boy-man friend

have agreed to play...

ALL: Wheel of torture!

No, we're almost out of here.

Don't go fishing for trouble, Brock Cousteau.

He's not our mission. - Just take Ghost -- or Galact--

Get him out of here! I can do this on my own.

What? Commit suicide?

Blow your cover and start an inter-agency war?

I know he's your old sugar daddy,

but is he really worth it?

What manner of torture awaits the feckless physicist

and his funny little friend?

The Human Pifiata?

Five Pains of Li Si?

Ooh! Ass to ass!

Oh, dear. I'm not with him.

Wrong night, Dragoon.

Hello. Hey, yeah, it's Flying Squid.

Yeah, long time, no -- listen.

I'm down at the club,

and you will not believe what's going on.

You got to get down here now.

No, there's no cover.

Your lovely hellstesses are coming around now.

The lucky villain with the winning torture ticket

gets to come on up and do the deed him or herself.

You in position? - Almost.

So, let's get spinning.

[cheering ]

Hurry up, man.

That thing's not gonna spin all night.

I need more time.

I've never taken this much girth.

[cheering continues]

The winner is...

Acid Dip.

- Ooh, I have -- - Winner!

DON HELL: And Vendata -- the big winner.

[chuckles] Finally got lucky today, bud.

Kidding, kidding. Come on up and do the honors.

What are you doing?

I don't know, man. Just be ready for anything.

No!

The metal murder man from my nightmares!

He was real.

MONARCH: What the fuck is going on here?!

That man you are illegally holding is myarch.

Thanks for the tip, Squid. Honey.

[ Clears throat]

Guild of Calamitous Intent bylaws, article 97-D --

"No villain may arch previously claimed nemesis without

first consulting the primary arch of said nemesis."

THE NERVE: Except...

the articles of collusion, paragraph stipulates

in the event of a team-up, the team's right to arch

supersedes that of the primary.

Just studied this for the Council exams.

But... not without offering the primary arch

first right of refusal

to participate in and/or lead said team-up.

She's, uh -- she's right.

All right. All right. Looks like the show is over.

- [ Grumbling] - Thank you for coming,

and, uh, be sure to thank the Monarch

for his untimely arrival.

Be sure to tip your waitstaff on your way out.

Good night. - Hey!

Yeah, keep walking, Tin Man.

Oh, is everybody leaving?

Is there an after party?

Where is my wife? Have you -- honey --

Does not compute.

Oh, hey. Sorry, man. I haven't seen her.

Does not com-- who am I?

I think the plane is going down...

Are we done here? Please say you're not gonna

make me save him from the Monarch now, are you?

Oh, what's he gonna do? He's the Monarch.

Well, well, well, Venture.

Looks like I've finally got you right where I --

[ up-tempo music plays]

Do you want subtitles for any video? -=[ ai.OpenSubtitles.com ]=-

And so, in acknowledgement of your expertise

and extensive history of service to this Guild,

I hereby invite you to join

this esteemed Council of 13.

Um... could I have a day to think about it?

I should really probably talk this over with my husband.

Ah... best show on television.

Who wants more popcorn?

What did I miss?

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