All language subtitles for Scorpion - 4x09 - Its Raining Men (of War)

It started as a normal night.

I was getting ready
to watch my favorite show.

My dad was at work.

My mom was mopping.

I remember because I love
the pine smell of that soap.

Could hear popcorn
on the stove.

That was the night
my father died.

H-How did you feel
in that moment

or in the moments
that followed?

I felt blessed.

Blessed?

Blessed to have such
a strong mother

that was able to get the two
of us through such a tough time.

That's wonderful.

And powerful.

Well, still, though,
loss of a father...

My father died a hero,
and I had it better than most.

I mean, I learned more
from that old man in nine years

than most people learn
in a lifetime.

I was blessed.

Yeah, there's no doubt

he was a good father.
You're proof of that.

Didn't you ever wonder why this
happened to such a good man?

You know, a lot of people ask,
“Why me?”

But why not me?

Bad things happen all the time.

Why should I be exempt?

Time's up.

Hey, thank you
for opening up about that.

I-I know you don't
like sharing and...

hardly ever talk
about your father.

I guess it's not
really therapy

unless you dig into
Mom and Dad, huh?

That's true.

Hey, I'm glad we got
this session in.

I haven't seen you around much
the past few weeks.

Like you only drop in between
cases to mooch meals.

You know, I'm doing some, uh,
legal research for my trial,

trying to lighten
Sly's workload.

Sly hasn't mentioned anything.

I haven't found anything useful.

There's nothing to report.

Well, I hope you
and your friends are hungry.

Hope you guys aren't too hungry.

Thanksgiving on a tight budget.

Glad Toby likes
canned cranberry

'cause we can't afford
to make the real thing.

And Tom Turkey is a little

smaller than last year.

Oh, Thomas. That's a great name
for a boy.

I can't talk about this
with you anymore.

Why? Picking baby names
is the fun part.

Baby?

Did I miss an announcement?

No. No baby
on the immediate horizon,

but Toby is determined

to pick a name pronto.

He read a study

about how a strong name
increases chances

of a successful life.

- Totally irrational.
- Agreed.

The thing is, Toby wants
to name the kid

after a distinguished
relative,

and that takes us back
a few generations

and I do not want to end up
raising an Obadiah Curtis,

so I need some alternatives.

Well, one obvious alternative

would be to name the baby Walter

or Walena if it's a girl.

You said Toby wants a name
that invokes success.

Let me save everyone
the suspense.

There's not a chance our bambino

is gonna be saddled
with either one of those names.

I'm sorry, Walena.

Hey, is it here? Did it come?

Thought you were taking
a vacation day.

Uh, I did, but
the new Chair of Blades book

comes out today,
and I had it delivered here

instead of my apartment.

Okay, you got a package
an hour ago.

It took J. Randall P. Smythe

ten years to write this.

Ah, its weight is the heft

of literary substance.

Sly, the book's
about magic.

Magic is for children's birthday
parties, not grown men.

This is all nonsense.

Nuh-uh.
Look at that chair.

It's made of blades.

Can't sit in that chair.

Your body would be shred
to pieces.

Not if you're a Klentorian

because their bodies
are impervious.

It's another example
of the infantilization

of American culture.

I love those books.

Does that make me an infant?

Anyway...

What's with
the thermos, buddy?

Oh, I was inspired

by Walt's
brain food regimen,

so this is a fish-based
protein shake

to get me through the read.

No meal breaks.

This is gonna be an all-nighter.

Excuse me.

Where is this child's mother?

Right here. What's going on?

I think this belongs to you.

Yes, his name's Ralph.

Let go of his wrist, please.
What's going on?

He was crawling through
the ceiling vents in my lab.

That is, until he fell

through the ceiling

and destroyed
a very expensive set

of Erlenmeyer flasks.
Are you okay?

He's fine. I checked.

What were you looking for
up there?

Parental guidance, perhaps.

Could you please
let my son answer? Spill it.

Some of our waxworms
matured into moths

and flew into the vents.

I know Florence is

particular about
her work space,

so I went to retrieve them

so that she wouldn't
get upset.

How'd that work out for you?

Ralph, what do you
have to say?

Those vents are
poorly constructed.

You're reading
the room wrong, kid.

I apologize.

Well, I don't blame you.

You're a child,
curious and unformed.

It is the job of your parent
to keep an eye on you.

Paige is an excellent mother.

If you must know,

I give Ralph a little
bit more freedom

because he is a genius.

What a shock-- an L.A. mother
who thinks that her child

is a genius.

And watch your moth infestation.

It's not an infestation.

It's a solution we've devised

for NOAA, National
Oceanic...

And Atmospheric Administration.
I'm familiar.

It is a prestigious job.

We're cleaning
the Great Pacific Garbage Patch,

a 500-ton mass of plastic shards
floating in the ocean.

Until a piece the size

of a football field broke off,

started drifting
toward the West Coast,

leaching chemicals as it goes.

I am assuming you're using

waxworms because they eat
and digest plastic,

rendering it nontoxic.

I can see that you developed
some sort of binding agent?

We spray it on
the plastic shards

so it hardens into
a solid mass.

That way we can walk
right onto the trash

and scatter the worms.

Just what geniuses do.

It's a foolproof solution.

If you consider a 93%
success rate foolproof.

Excuse me?

Your binding agent is flawed.

It has a chemical that will
partially pass through the worms

intact, right back
into the Pacific.

I estimate a seven percent rate
of failure.

That would leave 35 tons
of plastic in the ocean.

Well, that's assuming she's
correct, which she isn't.

Our formula is better than
every existing binding agent.

Not every existing
binding agent.

The one that I
made in my lab,

despite constant
interruptions,

is fully organic.

No chemical coating.

Your worms could digest a
hundred percent of the plastic.

Last time I checked,
a hundred percent

is better than 93,
but I'm not a genius.

I'm just a chemist.

Lucky for you guys,

my lab has run into a
bit of a funding gap,

so I'm willing to tag along

for one sixth of the take.

- Absolutely not.
- Walter, perhaps we should...

I don't like her.
Excuse me.

Walter, you're letting
your personal feelings

get in the way of work.

Now, if her product is more
effec... more effective,

then we'll do a better job
with the 100-yard chunk

of ocean trash,
and perhaps we'll get hired

to clean up the rest and then
we won't be broke anymore.

She's arrogant
and condescending.

Oh, hi, pot. I see
you've met kettle.

I know she stinks,
but since when does

Walter O'Brien choose
the less efficient route?

You have a deal.

At one-sixth our fee, assuming
your product passes inspection.

So, we leave in... 40 minutes.

So, let's pack up the worms.

It's today?

It's Thanksgiving.

Not that it's
your business,

but NOAA charges a great deal
for use of their boats,

so we procured one of our own.

And the rates are cheapest
on Thanksgiving.

Wonderful.

You have holiday plans,
so you can't come with us.

Actually...

I'm free.

No plans.

No friends.

How not shocking.

Oh, Ralph, that's
your troop leader.

Don't forget our contribution
for the food drive,

and I'll see you tonight
at dinner.

Hey, Paige, can I get a word
with you in the kitchen?

You know, I think I'm gonna
hang back, make the yams.

You don't cook.

Cabe is on the verge of a
major breakthrough in therapy.

I think I can really help him

with all his fears about
the trial and prison.

I mean, we're making
some good progress here.

That's great.

I think it'd be good if
I stay here with him.

I mean, you don't really
need me or an unarmed intern

to scatter worms on garbage.

No, but we'll be
a pair of hands short.

Yes.

I got a solution.

Hey, buddy.

Hey, pal.

I have to tell you,
I am just loving my vacation.

I'm just loving my vacation.

Oh, man.

Okay, Ralph's pumpkin launcher
is loaded.

Now, the balls have
a three-second timer,

so it should explode
shortly after launch,

raining binding agent
down on plastic shards

and hardening the plastic.

That's assuming that

your chemical
solution works.

It does.

Walt, hold up.

I ran the physics,
I know the launch angle,

give me that sucker.

Fire in the hole!

All right.

The agent should congeal the
plastic into one solid mass.

It'll be safe to walk on
in about two hours.

Looks like you've got some time
to read.

Best vacation ever.

Look at you, pretty handy
with a yam.

Yeah, you don't need an IQ
like yours to peel vegetables.

That story you were
telling me earlier

got me thinking
about those old TVs.

Grandmother had one.

I loved it, except the reception
was always so fuzzy.

Not ours. Perfect picture.

Hmm.

That stove-top popcorn,

ah, that brought me
back, too.

Used to love watching
the tinfoil rise,

but that bottom layer
always got burnt.

Not the way my mom did it.

Was good to the last kernel.

I'm gonna hit the head.
Be right back.

Patient confirms
likely fictitious recollections.

His details are suffering
from nostalgic whitewashing

where no bad memory,

even something as small
as burnt popcorn,

is allowed to exist.

Further research is required.

Plastic's consolidated.

Two hours on the dot.

My binding agent
worked perfectly.

Well, let's hope it doesn't
disintegrate under our feet.

Be careful.

Look at you, walking
right across the water.

Toby always said
Walt had a god complex.

Solid as advertised.

Congratulations,
you perfected glue.

Okay, let's get to it. Sly,
help Happy unpack the worms.

That was not a part
of my vacation.

It's just 'cause Toby
wanted to make yams.

Been watching
these guys for an hour now.

They start eating as soon
as they hit pay dirt.

This is gonna work better
than we thought.

Yeah.

Uh, Paige?

The current
is starting to drift

the boat away from the island.

Could you guys
secure the vessel?

We've been trying.

Attempting to steady this boat

while Sly parks this baby.

I don't know
when that's going to happen.

Having a little bit
of trouble dropping anchor.

Have you tried
a high-fiber diet?

Well, that kind of humor
is Toby's influence.

Guys, seriously.

I'm jammed up.

I'll let that one lie.

Walt, we can't get
this anchor mechanism to work.

We're gonna drift a little bit,
but when you're done,

we'll swing by, pick you up.

Copy that.

So, um, speaking
of the influence

that Dr. Curtis has had on you,

I hope he's not forcing your
hand on the baby name front.

Since when can Toby
force my hand on anything?

He got you to marry him.

Touché.

You know, I'm just saying,

that history has had
its share of exemplary Walters.

Milwaukee North Side Strangler:
Walter Ellis.

Sir Walter Raleigh, founder
of the doomed colony of Roanoke,

and, of course, Walter Mondale.

What's wrong with Mondale?

He lost 49 out of 50 states.

So, if you want your kid
to grow up to be a loser,

that's your choice.

Just spread your worms.

Can't. My buckets are empty.

Yeah, me, too.

Okay.

Let's let these guys feast
and clean the Pacific.

Paige, we're done.

Come get us.
Okay. On our way.

Uh, we got a little bit
of a problem.

The engine doesn't seem
to want to turn over.

There's no “seem”
when it comes to engines.

Either they work or they don't.

Then we're dealing
with a “don't” situation,

because the fuel is high,

there's-there's
no warning lights.

Just sounds really angry.

Thank you for the high-end
diagnostic.

But there's got
to be a reason...

Walt?

We got a problem.

Those are men o' war.

There's thousands of them.

I believe the plural
is “man of wars.”

Whatever they are,

they are caught in the works
of the anchor

and the engine's water intake.

That's why the boat is dead.

Are they eating the trash?

No. Jellyfish don't eat garbage.

If they did, we wouldn't
have brought worms.

It's not the garbage
that they're eating,

it's the binding agent.

What'd you put in the solution?

Agar, various proteins,
copepods, rotifers.

Copepods
and rotifers?

Building blocks for zooplankton.

It's the snack of choice
for jellyfish.

How did you not think of that?

Because I am a chemist,

not a zoologist.

So why didn't you think to ask?

Doesn't matter
whose fault it is.

Kind of matters.

Point is,

we can't start the engine

until we clear out
the jellyfish.

Clear out the super-poisonous,
deadly jellyfish?

Sounds simple.

Great.

There's no signal out here.

Okay. I-I'll radio
the Coast Guard.

Better get here fast,

'cause we just dropped
a thousand plastic-eating worms

on this island, and in 90
minutes, it'll disintegrate,

and we'll be in the water
getting stung to death.

Actually, man o' war stings
are toxic, not lethal.

How about a hundred of them?

Totally lethal.

Well, the bloom has doubled
since we've been talking.

They can do more than double.

Blooms can grow dozens
of miles long.

So by the time
the Coast Guard gets here,

they'll have to
anchor 12 miles out

and row to us, by which time, we
will definitely be in the water.

Once again,
getting stung to death.

I am so glad
you came along today, Flo.

♪ Scorpion 4x09 ♪
It's Raining Men (of War)
Original Air Date on Novem

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

Worms must have been starving
'cause this garbage raft

is decaying faster
than anticipated.

More bad news.

The Coast Guard is hours away.

We don't have hours.

That's the first correct thing
you've said today.

I have a potential,
yet stressful, solution.

Uh, we connect two ropes

to form a bridge

between the garbage island
and our boat.

Your fix is to make us swing
over deadly sea creatures?

How are we supposed to get
the rope all the way to them?

Harpoon gun.
Harpoon gun.

I spotted it earlier, when we
were loading gear in the cabin.

Fairly certain I saw it first.

I think this just might work.

Okay, Sly?
Hurry and launch that rope!

This thing is cracking
under our feet!

Ugh. Cabe, you mind hitting that

with some cleanser?

I'm wrist-deep
in chowder over here.

Sure.

You okay?

Yeah, I'm-I'm fine, I...

I'm gonna get a pan
for the turkey.

Patient exhibits strong reaction
to olfactory memory trigger.

Moving on to second phase
of testing.

Are you ready
to launch that thing or what?

Just calculating the trajectory
of the harpoon.

I need to be seven more inches
off the ground

in order
to achieve the angle

necessary to securely plant
the harpoon on the island.

This thing's about seven inches.

My tome?

Just stand on the damn thing.

J. Randall P. Smythe,
forgive me.

By the fire of Klentoria!

Seems sturdy.

Good work, Sly.

Thanks, but we won't know
for sure

until someone's
actually on it, though.

I'll just put you up here

for safekeeping.

Lots of lethal
planktonic invertebrates

down there.

So, who wants to go first?

I'll go.

Oh, sure, yeah.

The person who caused the
predicament should absolutely

be the first one to safety.

It's pretty gutsy.

If this thing doesn't hold,
she's the test dummy.

Suppose you're right.

The wind is pretty
unpredictable,

so keep the space in between
your hands equidistant

on each swing to prevent
stability loss.

That is apparent.

Thank you.

I hope you have the requisite
upper body strength

to make it across.

I think ten years of Tae Bo
has prepared me well.

Well, I focus my time
on research, not athletics.

Yes.

Strong little monkey.

Yeah. Well, she focuses
on athletics, not research.

Well, she's a strong
little monkey.

Okay, come on. We got you.

Okay.

Oh, boy.

The current's pulling back out.

The rope doesn't have
the tensile strength

to take on much strain!

Guys, get across now!

I'll hold it steady. You go.

But then you'll have
to go on your own.

You don't have the best
balance, you know?

I focus my time on research,
not athletics.

Okay. Snippy.

Sheesh.

Whoa, Nellie!

Hold on! Hold on!

I don't think
the rope's gonna hold.

Oh, forget the rope.

The harpoon's
being pulled out!

Walt,

if that harpoon pops,
I'm a goner!

I can't hold on!

I'm turning back.

I think the harpoon's
coming out!

The harpoon
is definitely coming out.

Happy, hurry!

The harpoon punctured the hull.

We're taking
on water.

When the harpoon snapped off,

it took a hunk
of plastic with it.

Made the hole worse.

Thank you for the play-by-play.

I'd always hoped to die
fully informed.

All right,
I'm radioing

the Coast Guard to get
an ETA on their arrival.

Not possible.

The harpoon cut the telecom hub.

Great, so there's no radio

and no cell service.

And the yahoos in the garage

won't have their comms in until
Cabe's therapy is wrapped up,

so we can't get to them
for help.

Not necessarily.

Just 'cause they don't
have them in,

doesn't mean they can't hear us.

How are they supposed to hear us
over their comms

if they're not wearing them?
They're not bats.

Actually, moths have

better hearing than bats,
but I totally get your point.

Who the hell cares?
Walter, I'm not about to sink

out here with these nerds.
What's your plan?

We manipulate
the comm's microwave frequencies

to send a high-pitch signal.

You'll need to manipulate
the transmitter.

I can use a paper clip.

Great idea,
but the water rushing in

won't wait for the Coast Guard.

So, plug the hole.

No clue how,
so don't ask for a follow-up.

Okay, okay, I can
synthesize a polymer

using the plastic
from the harpoon,

boiled together with the
unvulcanized rubber sealant

from the hull.

Let's get cooking.

Okay.

Um, boss?

Are we gonna ignore

the jellyfish in the room?

They can fix the boat
all they want,

but we can't fix this plastic
craptastic barge we're on.

Well, once they get in touch
with Toby and Cabe,

they'll get help. Until then,

I'm confident in the
seaworthiness of this thing...

Okay, we're dead if we
don't get off this thing.

The worms are starting
to eat right through it.

We just need to figure out a way
to swim without getting stung.

Perhaps Groucho Marx
glasses.

They'll never recognize us.

Disguise.

E-Exactly.

The jellyfish hunt

via taste and smell, so if we
mimic their biological makeup,

then they'll think
that we're jellyfish, too,

and ignore us.

Sly, we'll need your
fish oil-based protein shake.

My lunch?

If we denature
the shake proteins

with sea salt that's
collected on the plastic,

we'll be able to mimic
the proteins

in the bells of the jellyfish.

We'll baste up
like a couple of turkeys

and swim past the jellies.

But my lunch is here.

The pumpkin chucker.

We have extra plastic balls

from when we launched
the binding agent.

We can fill them
with my protein shake.

Paige, I will talk you through
modifying the launcher

so it can properly toss
Sly's lunch.

Really?

Could you people be
any less mature?

I'm headed topside.

Oh, and we could be
infinitely less mature.

Happy could've
easily said

it's time to launch Sly's balls,

but she didn't.

Hmm.

Look at that golden beauty,
Doc, huh?

Staying back, doing the cooking.

What better way
to spend a day?

Doesn't mean it can't
be made better

with some
popcorn, right?

Oh!

You all right, hombre?

Yeah.

Yeah, that popping startled me.

Never considered popcorn
one of the scarier snack foods.

What about that sound
threw you off guard?

What the hell is that?

It's coming
from over there.

What's your problem?

Toby! Cabe!

Mayday! Mayday!

What the hell?

Cabe, put in the comm.

- What's going on?
- Ship sinking!

Jellyfish bloom!

Walter and Happy trapped

on a disintegrating
trash island!

The radio is broken,

Coast Guard is too far off,
and we need help!

Give me the coordinates,
I'll start making calls.

Okay,

getting ready.

Oh, boy.

The boat is taking on
a lot of water!

Okay, Florence, ETA on the goop?

Once it liquefies.

ETA on the liquefying?

When it's good and ready,

and no amount of questioning is
going to speed that along.

You're stressed.

That's understandable.

This is your first
Scorpion disaster.

We're used to it.

How do you know
that I'm stressed?

Maybe this is how I normally act

when I'm synthesizing a polymer
on a sinking ship.

I assume

you apply polymer
on strips of cloth,

like papier-mâché.

That would be correct.

Okay. I will get to work
on that.

I'll ballast the boat.

Maybe a shift
in the weight

will bring the hole
out of the water.

Just working in a kitchen.

Standard Thanksgiving, right?

I'm not feeling very thankful.

And I know that
you're just trying

to take my mind
off of the situation.

I am. Because
I know working with

a team of geniuses can be trying.

I'm seriously starting to doubt

that anyone on this
team is a genius.

Excuse me, but a genius
would have done the math

to know that your product
is jellyfish bait.

So, one, this is your fault.

And two, I am trying
to be nice to you,

but I draw the line
at you badmouthing my nerds.

Sly?

What's going on over there?

Ladies are fighting.

This predicament is not
the fault of my product--

which, by the way,
is working like gangbusters.

That plastic bound together

faster than any of you
could calculate.

Oh, oh, I didn't see
the Nobel Prize committee.

Maybe they're stuck in
the quadrillion jellyfish

you attracted!

Oh, okay.
Sorry, Miss... Perfect.

What?

Oh, please.

The hot mom with the genius kid,
dating the boss.

It's super easy to criticize
when you've had it easy.

I built a successful
company out of nothing.

Then one lousy quarter

and the shareholders
just voted me out.

And now I'm clawing my way back

and I will not allow
the bad luck

of being Scorpion's neighbor
to derail me.

I will also not allow
someone to insult

my work after everything
that I've put into it.

What do you even know

about-about breaking your back

to make it on your own?

Someone's about to get schooled.

Let me tell you
how easy I've had it.

I'm a single mom.

My son and I have lived
in rat-infested motels,

cold water apartments,

and, for one week
when he was three, my car.

I've had my butt grabbed
by every creep in L.A.

who thinks my ass comes
with the blue plate special.

And I insulted
your work

because you put
my team in jeopardy,

and I wanted to hurt
your feelings

because you're being a jerk.

I believe we have liquification.

Oh, there's a
lot of jellyfish.

Staring at them won't tell us
if this slop will protect us.

You're right.

Shove your arm in.

You're the boss.
You shove your arm in.

The fact that you admitted
that I'm the boss

means that you should
shove your arm in.

This trash-raft
is crumbling under us.

We're gonna be filled
with venom in five minutes

if this doesn't work,
so shove your damn arm in!

I don't know how Toby does it.

Not a sting.
Not even a tickle.

For now.

The water's movement will start

washing off this gunk

as soon as we're wet;

we'll be without protection
in less than ten minutes.

Then we'll swim fast.

Gonna be hard for a guy who
didn't focus on athletics.

That'll raise the hole
a bit out of the water.

Water will still slosh
into the boat,

but at a slower rate,

so... we're still sinking.

Sealant is done.

Now all we have to do is
lower it to Happy and Walter.

Lower it? We can just
patch it right here.

If we patch it on the inside,

the water pressure
will make it pop out.

But if we patch it
on the outside,

the water pressure will compress
the patch to the hull,

making it stronger.

You hear that, Walt, Happy?

You're going to work.

Came here to get plastic
out of the ocean,

now we're lowering tar into it.

I am a skilled chemist...

but I am not a biologist.

So, it's outside my
scope of expertise

to know that my product
would attract the jellyfish.

Probably should've thought of
that before offering it up.

I'm responsible for us
being in this situation.

This is my attempt
at an apology.

And this is my
acceptance of it.

Get that junk that
they've lowered down

and I'll grab that rope
out of the hole.

We really don't have
time for this.

The jellyfish

will know soon enough
that we are not one of them.

If we don't patch the hole,

we're just climbing
onto a sinking ship.

But we should work fast,

because I can feel them
getting curious down there.

This stuff is working
like a charm!

How fast does it seal?

Within seconds of application.

This is good stuff.

- Nice work, Flo.
- Thank you.

It's Florence.

Whoa!

Big swell!

Finish quickly, please. The
jellies aren't fooled anymore.

Aah! Aah...

I think I just got stung.

Aah!

Oh, okay, me, too.

Okay.
I'm done.

Another swell...

hold on.

Whoa...

Florence!

Help... me! Aah!

You get on the boat!

I'll grab Florence!

Happy!

Grab the ladder! Hurry!

Aah!

You know, I've never really

watched Walter swim before.

He focuses on research,
not athletics.

Walt, if she's getting
repeatedly stung,

you've got about ten seconds
before she goes into shock.

She's going under!

Hold on.

I got you.

Thank you.

You okay?
My leg.

One bad sting.

The boat should have

a freshwater line.

Hose down her leg
and then saturate the other two

once they're on the deck.

Hey!

Guys?
I don't think Walt's fish goop

is helping much anymore.

Cabe, if they don't get
Flo to a hospital fast,

she could go into
full anaphylaxis and die.

Where's the ride?

It's not like
I'm ordering a pizza.

They're in the middle
of the ocean.

I'm pulling every string I can.

Then pull more!

Cabe?

Cabe!

Where'd you just go?

Uh, no... nowhere.

Uh, sh-shut up, I'm fine.

Oh, my God.

She has stings all over her.

I'm gonna spray them down!

Get off any bits of tentacles.

Those can sting even after

they've detached
from the jellyfish.

Aah!

And find vinegar.

I'll check the galley.

Florence? Florence!

Florence! Toby,

she's in trouble.

Her breathing's labored

and she's pale, unresponsive.

Just pour the vinegar on her.

Wrap her in blankets
to keep her warm.

I'll get blankets!

Vinegar.

Florence, stay with me.

You have multiple stings;

you need to save
some of that for yourself.

She needs it more than I do.

All right, I got a buddy

out of Pendleton that
flies a medevac chopper.

She doesn't have enough fuel
to get there and back,

but if they meet her
ten miles east,

she can get to the hospital.

We can't move an inch east!

Jellyfish have clogged
our engines!

Maybe we won't have
the jellyfish to deal with.

Cabe, give us the coordinates

that we need to reach;
Sly, chart the course.

Chopper's gonna be
at 192 degrees north

by 87 degrees west

in 24 minutes.

She has enough time to hover
and pick them up,

but if you're not there,
she turns for base.

Walter, how do you plan,
exactly, to get this boat going?

We need to light
the ocean on fire.

Douse the area
around the engine with fuel.

It'll light right above the
jellyfish and scare 'em off.

Letting us get the engines
to full speed,

provided we don't blow up the boat.
That is a risk.

Do it fast.

Your patient doesn't have
any more time.

Sly, Walt, fuel drum.

Okay.

First we dump tar
into the ocean,

and now we are dumping fuel.

Greater good.
If we save Florence,

she'll do more to
preserve the environment

with her scientific work than
the damage that we're doing

right now in this moment.

Don't tell her I told you that.

You think this is gonna
be enough?

Only one way
to find out.

Happy, need your Zippo.

Now, get back in the
cabin and get ready.

Oh, Happy, if I ignite,

will you tell baby Walena
I was a hero?

It's never gonna happen.

What, me igniting, or you
naming the baby after me?

Don't make me choose.

Okay.

How will we know if it worked?

If we don't explode.
Walt, light it up.

Happy, the flames are
against the side of the boat.

We have to get out of here.

You heard him.

I need to make sure
that the jellies

move away from the engine.
When?!

Now. She's not doing well.

Happy, start the damn engine!

Happy!

Uh, she's not turning over.
This is not happening.

Happy, the boat's
starting to burn.

This was supposed to be
my vacation day!

Okay, hold tight.

We'll have you on a medevac
in just a few minutes, okay?

Just hold on.

Okay, glad to hear.

Florence has made
a full recovery.

Hospital's releasing her.

Great news.
I'll go pick her up.

Okay.
More great news.

Satellite images show
the garbage island

is almost fully dissolved.

I won't wear this apron, and
I really should not be the one

checking on the food.

I don't cook, I reheat.

I'll finish up the turkey,

but could you please
keep it down?

They're still in the trailer.

Right. Forgot.

Doctor is in.

Bunch of things
sent you into space today.

One time during a very
critical moment in the case.

You want that to happen again?

It was a momentary lapse.
No, it wasn't.

You know that.

You're having memory triggers.

I think you're
starting to remember

what really happened
the night your father died.

I told you what
really happened.

What was that, again?

Damn it, Doc,
the-the cops came to the door

and they gave us the news.

And then your mom
stopped her mopping.

There was popcorn
popping, and what else?

Why does there have to
always be something else?

My mom, she took care of me.

She hugged me,
she told me

everything was
gonna be okay.

She put some calamine
lotion on my neck...

You hadn't mentioned
that before.

Why'd she put calamine
lotion on your neck?

'Cause of the blanket
that the cops gave me.

It was... it was wool,
and I had a reaction to it.

Why did the cops
give you a blanket?

Because it was cold that night.

Well, you were in your house.

Right.
I was, uh...

I was at the house, uh...

The cops must have brought me
back there afterwards.

I don't know.

Brought you back from where?

The bodega.

My God, I was at the bodega.

Money in the bag,
or you're dead!

I froze.

I was there... I saw the guy...

I should have said
something sooner,

and he'd still be alive.
Cabe,

the only person responsible
for your father's death

is the man who shot him,
not you.

No, I froze.

I was responsible.
You were a child.

Children don't stop
men with guns.

Children make up stories,
and you made up one.

Perfectly popped popcorn
and wonderful pine scents,

and this impossibly picturesque
loss of a father.

Your story was so damn good,
you believed it as an adult.

You were just trying
to protect

this nine-year-old
version of you,

because, deep down,
you blame yourself,

because you were
only nine years old.

You were nine, Cabe.

So now you're 59.
Why don't you stop

beating up on
that little kid?

Why is all this stuff
coming up now?

Why now?

Because you think
if you get sent to jail,

you'll be failing us, like you
think you failed your father.

You think you need
to protect us,

like you thought you needed
to protect your father.

And that's why you haven't
been coming around much

the past few weeks-- guilt.

Cabe, you did not
fail your father,

and you're not failing us.

You've taken care of us
for a long time.

Now it's time to let us
take care of you.

Hey.

How'd it go?

It was good.
I'm better.

Well, you helped
cook this slop,

so your work is done here,
old man.

I'll make sure, uh,
you get a drumstick.

How about we
take a load off?

Okay.

Hey.

How is he?

It was a rough
therapy session,

but he'll be all right.

He just needs us.

Oh, hey, uh,
while I have a moment...

Say the word “Walena”--

and it's a word,
not a name--

you get yams
down your pants.

Hey, I just wanted
to apologize

for harping on
about the name

of your future offspring.

Okay.

It's just, I, uh, I don't know
if I'll ever have children.

It's not something
that I thought about.

You know, until
Ralph came around,

and then I, you know,
I thought I might not be

such a terrible parent.

Which is not something that's
been discussed with Paige.

It's not really appropriate yet.

But you and Toby,
I hired you.

You wouldn't know each other
if it wasn't for me.

So if you had a child,
it would just be

something that I...

I'd take a lot of pride in.

Fine.

You've touched my heart.

“Walter” is on the list.

Just don't tell Toby.

Ralph, can you
help her to her seat?

Carefully.

There she is,
the chemist of the hour.

How you feeling, Flo?

Um, it's Florence.

Uh, I-I feel tired.

But I'm glad
to be alive,

due to your efforts.

I've said unkind things

to you.

They were not deserved.

So I will endeavor
to be a better neighbor.

What is...
What's this?

New flasks, to replace
the ones I broke.

Thank you.

You're not the problem urchin
I thought you were.

So, while I'm glad
that she's okay,

I'm still not sure about her.
Well,

I'm gonna give her a chance,
and I think you should, too.

All right, everybody ready

to shove food
in our gullets or what?

No, no, not yet.

Tradition dictates that Dad
sits at the head of the table.

And, from what I've gleaned from
Norman Rockwell paintings...

...he carves.

I've realized recently
that I've been

messing a bit with my memories.

Been rewriting 'em
over the years.

I'm not gonna do that anymore.

And it's okay, 'cause

I got a great girl

and I've got great friends.

No matter what
the future holds for me,

I want to remember this moment
right now

exactly as it is.

'Cause to have you all
in my life,

I am truly thankful.

Hear, hear!

==sync, corrected by elderman==
@elder_man