All language subtitles for Scorpion - 4x17 - Dumbster Fire.en

WALTER:
Previously on Scorpion...

What's that thing
Happy always says?

“Damn it, Toby,
put a baby in me already”?

I'm the reason
we can't have kids.

What would you say
if it were me?

I'd tell you that I love you
and that medical science

has ways around
issues like these.

Ditto.

We're cleaning
the Great Pacific Garbage Patch,

a 500-ton mass
of plastic shards

floating in the ocean.

Speaking of Walter,
there is nothing between us.

He and I are alike.

Too much head,
too little heart.

What's this?

You seemed upset
by Paige's germs

so I mixed up
a disinfectant solution.

She laughed at my joke.

She gave me disinfectant
for Valentine's.

And the way
she described

her perfect guy to Paige?

Who's more vulnerable than me?
I get nosebleeds on escalators.

♪ ♪

PAIGE:
Freeway.

Roadside ditch.

Cucumber?

Uh...
Um...

(popcorn
crunching)

Uh... map?

Snake and baby snake.

Oh. Maps to the Stars.

Clearly these are not stars.

Ah, time.
Oh!

WALTER:
Seriously?

- How'd you not get this?
- Aw.

PAIGE: Let's see what
this mysterious drawing

was supposed to be.
Moon River?

How was that Moon River?

Well, this is a topographically
accurate depiction

of the Moon River
in Savannah, Georgia,

and this is a worm,

indicating Wormsloe
State Historical Site.

Walter, “Moon River” is a song.

It's one of my favorite
old standards.

I like old standards

just as much as I like
spontaneous game nights.

You could have just done this.

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

Mm-hmm.

The flag of Azerbaijan?

Forget it. Greg, you're up.
(claps hands)

I thought that doctor
was great.

She went to Brown.

It has a great
medical school.

Yeah, if you can't
get into Harvard.

Okay, you nixed the
Harvard doctor, too,

along with six more of the top
fertility specialists in L.A.

Happy, I didn't tell you--
that Harvard doc

had a row of
pencils lined up

right next to a perfectly
good pencil holder.

That's a sign
of a sociopath.

Oh, you should know.
You gonna find something wrong

with every doctor we meet?

This is a huge life step.
This is arguably

the most important step
we've ever taken.

Yeah, but you can't decide
on anything now.

It took you 20 minutes
to pick coffee this morning.

Right, well,
you want your baby concocted

by a cappuccino,
a Frappuccino or a mocha latte?

Each one has different strengths
and weaknesses.

You're an idiot.
Yeah.

An idiot whose baby
won't be designed

by someone
who went to Brown.

MALE VOICE: So please leave a message after
the beep and have a nice day.

SYLVESTER:
This is Alderman Dodd.

Again. This is the 14th message.

Please call me back.

Who's dodgin' ya?

The Plastics Consortium
of North America.

That was gonna be
my first guess.

I can't stop thinking

about the garbage island
we saw over Thanksgiving.

In 30 years, the ocean is
going to be more plastic

than marine life.

So I'm trying to
set up meetings

with the CEOs of various
bottled water corporations,

so they can explore a new
design for their bottles

that uses .14 fewer
grams of plastic.

But nobody is
calling me back.

I don't trust bottled water.

Had a real spring on my
grandfather's farm upstate

when I was a boy.

Best I ever tasted.

Thank you, Cabe...

...for that entirely
unhelpful insight. (cell phone dings)

“I'm with Florence.”

“Gonna talk you up.”

“Your Wingman.”

Attaboy, Ralph.

PAIGE: It's like you were
deliberately bad

at the game.

I am not gonna dumb
myself down for your friends.

What credibility
would I have?

I just wanted to have
a quiet cup of coffee.

PAIGE:
And I just wanted

a regular fun night
with non-geniusy stuff

for a change,
and Walter ruined it.

Ruined what?
He refused

to draw anything
“pedestrian”

for game night
with my friends.

So when the clue
was “carbon copy,”

he drew one atom of carbon
and another atom of carbon.

Come on, Paige, what's
a better way to display that?

BOTH:
A car, a bun, a cop.

Well, I see great
minds think alike.

TOBY:
Hey, hey, hey,

I'm the first to admit
that my overall decisiveness

has been affected by
the doctor decision,

but it's not like
I can't come up with

any course of action.

Really? Okay, I will wear the
sexy pharmacist outfit tonight

if you can pick
where we get lunch from

in the next ten seconds.

Sexy pharmacist?

She knows exactly
what to prescribe.

Five seconds.

Uh, okay, uh, the...

uh, Kovelsky's.

Wait. Um, uh, Burger Hut.

No. Actually, um...

Eh! Time's up.

No medicine for you,
Wishy-Washy.

I should have
figured as much

from the lowest
genius IQ on the team.

Geez. You're really mad at me.

Uh, guys.
What's this pictograph?

BOTH:
Carbon copy.

See? Even the guy
with the lowest IQ

on the team got it.

That's a defamatory,

unconfirmed rumor.
PAIGE: You know what?

We don't have time
for this--

we need to catch our flight
to Colorado. PANDS is waiting.

Hey, what the hell is
this case all about anyway?

You guys are supposed
to explain it to me.

It's been weeks,
and you've been ducking me.

Oh, don't you get it, Cabe?

These guys can't
bring themselves

to dumb it down for us.

Oh, right.
Cabe, here it is.

PANDS is
the Particle Accelerator

Neutrino Detection Station.

It's a physics
laboratory

in the Rocky Mountains.

World's deepest lab.

It's built three
kilometers underground

to shield experiments

from cosmic radiation.

Has a state-of-the-art
particle collider.

And the PANDS
scientists think

they detected a WIMP.

Well, that shouldn't be
too hard.

I'm sure they're all wimps.

No, no, a Weakly Interacting
Massive Particle.

It's theorized they constitute
dark matter and could interact

with forces outside of
the standard model of physics.

A WIMP would be
a momentous discovery.

Problem is,
many of these discoveries

are conveniently announced

right when labs are applying
for federal funding.

Some of them could be bogus.

So the government hired us
to verify experiment results

before they give the grant.

Yes, and the lab's
been cleared out

for us to conduct verification,

which we should run through
before we get there.

Now, this ball is filled
with one ton of liquid argon,

stored at negative
190 degrees Celsius,

and surrounded by hundreds
of photomultiplier tubes

sensitive to the emissions
of even a single photon.

So if there
is a WIMP,

it will produce
a flash of VUV rays

detectable by
these sensors.

And we will run a systems test
on the whole detector.

He's not even winded,
which pisses me off even more.

WALTER: Then we'll irradiate the ball
with neutrons

from the supply of radioactive
californium I obtained.

Oh. Think I found a WIMP.

If the neutrons emitted
by spontaneous fission

in the californium interact
with liquid argon,

as we predict, the
detector is sound

and the WIMP discovery
is verified.

Glad you explained it to me.

♪ ♪

Hello.
(chuckles): Hi.

I'm Paige Dineen,
team manager.

You must be Mr. Bhatt.

Please, call me Raja.
Walter.

We are delighted
to have you here.

Uh, a quick... quick
lay of the land.

The lab is built beneath
an existing gold mine.

(chuckles) So you'll use the mine's
elevator for access.

For the sake of integrity,
I'm not allowed down

while you verify our results,
so I will be in that building,

the Security
and Observation Center,

(chuckles):
or SOC...

with a Mr....

Gallo...
and a Ms. Dineen.

Uh, it has monitors linked
to security cameras

peppered throughout the lab,

so we'll be able
to watch you work.

Uh, as I'm sure

you're aware,
there are consequences

to being that far underground
for extended periods of time.

The increased air pressure
pushes toxins into the blood,

which could negatively impact
the neural pathways.

Paige, you think about it
like, uh, it's just gunk

blocking your brain.

Not everything
has to be translated.

The “neural pathways”
is easy enough.

They're... the pathways...

for...

Almost there.

...all things neural.

There you go.
End result is that the lab

has a safety limit
of four hours.

After that,
it's harder to think,

uh, cognitive
abilities decline.

It's like a-a graph
of exponential

stupidity.
(chuckles)

Until your IQ falls off a cliff.

If my IQ fell off a cliff,
I'd basically be Toby.

See what you started?

We'll finish under four hours.
Everything will be just fine.

Comms in, everyone.

Thank you.

RAJA:
Uh, shall we?

(phone rings)
PAIGE: Oh.

(over phone): Hey, honey.
You at the convention?

Uh, heading in now.
I'm really excited.

Be sure to behave for Florence.

Will you put her on the phone
for a second?

Hello.

Hi. I just wanted to say thanks
for taking Ralph along today.

It's my pleasure.

I normally dislike children,
but he's an abnormal child.

Thank you. I... I think.

Uh... oh. Security requires us
to check our phones at the door,

so we won't be reachable
for a few hours.

But I promise the moment we
get out, we'll give you a call.

Okay? Talk soon.

Eh, she won't be happy

about not being able
to be in touch with me.

Well, I'm-I'm sure she trusts
I'll take good care of you.

It's not you.

Only person she trusts
watching me is Sylvester.

She always says he's
the most responsible

and trustworthy member
of the team.

Really?

He seems afraid
of his own shadow.

Um, just very cautious.
Another great trait he has.

Yep, can't go wrong
with reliable old Sylvester.

Man, we're
going down deep.

SYLVESTER:
Don't remind me!

What is that?

Do you seriously
not know what this is?

No more plastic in
the workplace; I wrote a memo.

Oh, right, right.
Now I remember that memo.

I, uh, I stuffed it
in a plastic jug,

and then I threw it
in the gutter.

Very funny.

Unhand that bottle.

Are you happy now?

Can the children fight later?

We have work to do.

(beeps)

Okay.

Yeah, we're in the lab.
SYLVESTER: The clean room

is super cool.

WALTER:
Four hours starts now.

Okay. Have fun down there.

So, uh, the clean
room is fitted

with directed,
high-pressurized nozzles

that blow out a proprietary
hydrogen-nitrogen mixture

that'll purify you
and your clothing.

It's a little, uh...
(chuckles)

...it's a little abrasive.

But, uh, necessary--

so you don't bring
contaminants into the lab.

And I'm turning on the system.

(low beeping)

HAPPY: Hold on.
These industrial blowers

will knock the boogers
out of your nose.

(whooshing stops)

RAJA: Okay. You are
completely purified.

We have to get that
for the garage.

Are you kidding me?

I'm drinking purified
purified water.

That's living, Sly.

I can't believe
we're actually here.

WALTER: Every piece of equipment
is state-of-the-art.

“Prairie Dogs
Under Observation.”

Ugh. Prairie dogs?

Disgusting dirt dwellers.

TOBY: That must be how the scientists
analyze the effects

of pressure on cognition,

'cause prairie dogs are
naturally burrowing creatures,

so they might have ways
of reacting

to increased pressure
that we don't know about.

Like being unable to
make basic decisions.

That's uncalled for.

The argon tank.

It's everything
I've ever dreamed.

HAPPY:
I'll check the photosensors

while you guys handle
the monitors.

Man, think about what
they're doing down here.

It's amazing.

Four percent of the universe

is matter as we understand it.

26% is dark matter
and 70% is dark energy,

both of which we know
bupkis about.

That means that if we
learned everything

in the current encyclopedia
of human knowledge,

we'd still only comprehend
four percent of the universe.

Which means you'd only know
about one percent.

Lowest Scorpion IQ and all.

That's unconfirmed.

Okay, computers are up
and running.

Keep an eye on the timer.

We have three hours
and 48 minutes

until our brains stop
working at full capacity.

This is super cool.

I bet Paige and Cabe are
on the edge of their seats.

Okay.

Celebrities names
who are also food.

Sugar Ray Leonard.

Kevin Bacon.

Chuck Connors.

How's that food?

Ground chuck, it's meat.

Who calls meat “chuck” anymore?

I do. It's valid. Go.

Ice Cube.

Ice is frozen water.

Invalid.

He's right.
Not a food.

Ugh. How long have we been
doing this?

40 minutes.

Feels like 40 hours.

Just giving the diagnostic
results a perusal.

Oh, we're wrapped already?
The four hours

went by that quickly.
You want to see this.

Look at the rise of
the photoelectron integral.

WALTER:
Toby, check this out.

Guys, you seeing this?

(snoring)

Uh, yeah.
Cabe can't see anything,

He's literally passed out
from boredom.

WALTER: Well, ignoring
the fact that you used

“literally” incorrectly,
because he fell asleep

rather than “passed out,”

can you let Raja take a look
at this?

RAJA: No, I see it,
I see it.

The argon ball responded
accurately to the californium,

which-which-which means
a valid detector.

We... We found WIMPs.

Our-our discovery
is verified.

(whooping)

Thank you. Thank you.

Yes!
(groans)

What's goin' on?

Just, uh, nerds getting rowdy.

We're heading topside.

Make it snappy. You're
over the four hour limit.

You don't wanna get daffy
down there.

Oh, come on. We haven't
even checked out

the particle collider yet.

When are we ever
gonna be back here?

You know, the four-hour
limit applies

to people with normal brains.

We're geniuses, even Toby,

so I'm sure that we can stay
down a little bit longer

without any adverse effects.

Let's do it.

Oh, 9,000 feet underground,
suddenly Sly's a rebel.

WALTER:
Okay, we won't stay for long!

We'll be back up with your test
results soon, Raja, promise.

Is this okay?

Hmm? Yeah, I suppose
it's all right.

It's just a, it's just
a few minutes.

Oh.

What a beauty.

And it's only operating
at 50% capacity.

Its particles accelerate to
15 tera electron volts.

An electronic
feedback mechanism

prevents it from reaching
its full capacity of 30,

which could validate
a specific class

of supersymmetry theories,

better helping us understand

the fabric of matter
and energy themselves.

There's also
a small chance that...

that particles colliding
with that much energy

would create a black hole

that'll swallow up
our whole solar system.

How small a chance?

No one knows.

It's like a game of
proton roulette.

Roulette's odds are 37 to one;
these are far greater.

That was a terrible analogy.

Toby, are you okay?

TOBY:
Yep, yeah.

It's all good in
the neighborhood, my man.

Okay, maybe we should
get out now.

PAIGE:
Good idea.

I was reading a book on
antigravity the other day

and I couldn't
put it down.

That's my joke
from my stand-up.

(laughs)
You're really funny.

I have the gift.

(clatter, hissing)
What the hell was that?

WALTER: It's the nozzle to one of
the hydrogen gas tanks.

It popped off.

It's leaking out
flammable hydrogen.

If we don't find a fix quick,
this joint's gonna blow up.

I'll shut it down with one of
the electrical backups.

Well, how did this happen?

Nozzles aren't
supposed to pop off.

(screams)
(prairie dog squeaking)

Guessing that's how.

SYLVESTER:
A prairie dog.

Told you they were
wretched animals.

That must've escaped
from the cage,

and messed with
the wiring.

Th-That increased the
pressure in the tanks.

WALTER: The little guy did
extensive damage.

Luckily, I'm here,
so I can stop it.

You guys are four hours
30 minutes underground.

You're gonna start losing IQ
points, if you're not already.

You sure you're
up for this?

Of course I am. In fact...

Aha, I already did it.

That seems a little bit
too fast, son.

(hydrogen hissing)
Uh, Walt,

you didn't fix crap;
the hydrogen's still leaking.

Huh?

(alarm beeping)
Oh, boy.

The green indicator light from
the particle collider room.

PAIGE:
Indicating what?

Indicating that the collider's
been activated

to reach full capacity.

Walter, whatever you did
to the electronic system

didn't shut down
the hydrogen.

It stepped on
the collider's gas pedal.

Does that mean it's gonna create
a black hole?

Maybe. Or maybe it'll just
explode and kill us.

Well, I don't make mistakes.

My mental state
must be impaired.

How do you walk around
like this?

You're insulting me?

Walt, you just started
a chain reaction

that could destroy
the space-time continuum,

and then Keanu Reeves
and the other guy

are gonna pop out of
that phone booth.

Who?

Our only way out is through
a room filled

with hydrogen gas and
flammable disinfectants.

Tiniest friction created
by opening the door

could cause a huge
gas explosion.

(Toby laughs)

(laughing):
I'm sorry.

She said “huge gas explosion.”

(all laughing)

Why are geniuses laughing

at a fart joke
when they're about to die?

'Cause they're not
geniuses anymore...

they're idiots.

♪ Scorpion 4x17 ♪
Dumbster Fire
Original Air Date on February 26, 2018

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

RAJA: We've never left anyone
underground long enough

to witness effects like this.

They're not fully "idiots"
like you say,

but they are rapidly approaching

average intelligence.

And every minute, it's gonna get
harder and harder

for them to fix their situation.

Guys, snap out of it.

Walter, can't you undo
what you did with the wires

to stop the collider?

Okay, my intellect's been
compromised, but I have further

to fall since I'm coming all
the way down from 197.

So I can give it a crack.

No. He can't risk
messing with those wires

in case he makes
things more bad.

You mean "worse"?

Walt, do you have
a plan or not?

Yes. Two, actually.

While we still
retain some of our faculties,

Sly and I will work to hack

into the particle
collider to shut down

the superconducting magnets, so
then stopping the acceleration

from the protons
into the plasma.

Um, sounds good.

Okay, what's plan number two?

Number two. (chuckles)

(chuckles)

WALTER:
Okay, seriously now.

There is a button
at the other end

of the clean room

uh, that opens the door
to the mine shaft.

Now, uh, we can use that
to vent out

the flammable hydrogen that way,

but we need a way
to push the button.

Oh. The purification jets.

Oh, if they can blow the
boogers out of your nose,

they can depress the button.

RAJA: Okay, but the joystick controls
will be hard to move.

There's no servo motor.

It'll be like driving a car
without power steering.

Okay, Cabe and Paige, you'll
need to rip the roof off

the elevator shack
so the hydrogen can travel up,

and escape safely
into the atmosphere. Let's go.

Can we knock off
the roof supports?

That'll collapse the roof
on the shaft, and it's too heavy

to lift by hand.
Well, let's not do it by hand at all.

Let's secure the roof to the SUV
and rip it right out.

Yeah, here. These work?

Yes. We can use
mine cables.

Let's go. Let's go!

TOBY:
Okay, you see the button?

Uh, you redirect
those two airstreams,

I'll redirect these two.

Sounds good.
Gloves on.

And go.

Huh. These controls
aren't hard to move.

Raja's a weakling.

Actually, the
pressure down here

is pushing toxins
into our hebogoblin.

Uh, it's "hemogiblin."

It's also pushing oxygen

into our muscles,
making them more powerful,

so we're stupid,
but we're strong.

Oh, man, we're
becoming dumb jocks.

Thanks for the root beer.

Conference has been
great so far.

Wait for the inert
gas demonstration

after intermission.

I hear it's a game-changer.

Cool.

Always up for
a new experience.

Sylvester taught me that.

He said "gaining knowledge
is the embedded stone

in the pathway
to enlightenment."

He did?

Didn't peg him as a philosopher.

Philosopher, calculator,
he can do it all.

I'm not that well-rounded.

Chemistry is my one and only
wheelhouse.

Mmm, right, but based on what

you gravitated to in the
conference, your main interest

is in particle flocculation
and coagulation.

Wow. Yes, that's correct.

How are you so familiar with
that area of research?

From Scorpion.

They're the smartest team
of people in the world.

(both grunt)

Can you let me...
Please.

- If I...
- Let me in, please. - Thank you.

Oh, it's a scorcher in here.

It's only gonna get worse.

Not if we can stop
the electromagnet

from powering up and giving
the thingies enough energy.

SYLVESTER: Thingies?
I think my intelligence quadrant

is dropping faster
than anticipated.

Intelligence quotient.

Step aside.
I'll handle this.

(computer beeps)

We're shut out.

What?

I couldn't figure out
how to hack in,

but the collider thinks
we're tampering with it,

so it shut us out permanently.

There's no way to stop
the magnets

from heating up the plasma.

Stop thinking you can do
genius stuff.

You're like me and Cabe now.

This thing's gonna blow.
It already blows.

Our whole trip to the
accelerator's ruined.

No. I mean it's gonna explode!

Oh.
PAIGE: No, it isn't.

We're gonna get you
all to the surface,

put some genius back
in your brains,

and you're gonna
figure out a solution!

Let's get Dumb and Dumber down
there back to Smart and Smarter!

Gun it!

(engine revving)

All right, my airstreams are
pointing right at the button.

Me, too.

How come it's not depressing?

It's incredibly depressing.
We're about to die.

I meant the button.
CABE: Because

the damn broken hydrogen line

has reduced the damn pressure
coming out of the damn nozzle.

Man, it's annoying
being smarter than them.

He's right.

The blower alone
won't do it.

Oh, I'm feeling a lot
of anxiety right now.

I don't like being stupid
like Cabe and Paige.

Thanks a lot.

I don't like not knowing
how to solve things.

I can't imagine
living a life like this.

It's like they don't even
know we're listening.

Truth be told, I kind of dig it.

I don't have a lot of thoughts
racing through my head,

my worries are fading.

I just got
to figure out one thing--

how to press a stupid button.

The water bottle.

If we toss this up
into the air current,

the force of the blower will
slam it into the button.

You sure?

Well, you got a problem with me
being decisive now? Just do it.

Such a simple solution,
you probably

wouldn't have come up with it
if you could think non-simply.

That's it. A simple solution
involving a water bottle.

I just found out how I'm going
to solve my plastics problem.

Okay, shut up and let me focus!

(whooshing)

Whoa! It worked.

Ah, give me some!
(grunting)

Okay. Sunlight's
hitting the mine shaft.

Yeah, there's clear
access to the outside.

That hydrogen's gonna
fill up that shaft soon.

What is... that?

PAIGE:
Ugh. Guys,

it looks like the
water bottle's

lighting the elevator
certificate on fire.

So? They can get a new one.

Mine shaft is full of flammable
hydrogen, you dumb son of a...

Awesome!

No-look high-five.

(thud)
I said no-look high-five.

Oh. Husband?

Um, he's not moving.

I feel like I normally
say something here.

Not good.

Yup, that's it.

Uh, he's unconscious!

Uh... pressure.

It's a... pressure thing.

Toby said it earlier.

Toxins in the blood affect
neural pathways.

Huh?

- He has gunk in his brain!
- Guys?

Guys, listen to me.

You have maybe ten minutes

to get Dr. Curtis out
of there before there is

a nitrogen overload in
his bloodstream, and he dies.

WALTER: Okay, you heard Roger.

Raja.

Yes. You heard him.

We need to get Toby
out of here right now.

A fireball just
asploded the elevator!

I know another way
out of the lab.

There is a mine shaft
30 feet above the lab entrance.

If I can get my liaison
at the mine to open it up,

we can lower a rope to your team
and help 'em escape.

(alarm beeping faster)

(alarm blaring)
Uh-oh.

What does yellow mean?

Slow down?

Uh, the plasma went
into the spirally, uh, things.

RAJA: You mean
the supercharging coils.

Bullets are in the gun, and
the hammer's being pulled back.

Um...

you have eight minutes before
the plasma enters the collider,

the particles hit,
and we might, theoretically,

experience the destruction
of our solar system.

I don't care
about theories!

I care about the reality of an
asplosion that kills all of us!

It's all the more reason
to get our guys out of there.

And you go get
that mine liaison. Now!

Yup.

We really need to deal
with the collider, right?

We can't! Look at us! We're
getting dumber by the minute!

Okay, as the more
smarter person here,

we need to figure out a way
to get me to the surface

so that I will be
at normal pressure,

I can be a genius again,
and I will solve this.

Great idea.

HAPPY:
But...

Won't he die if we don't
deal with him first?

Crap!

Besides, we can't get
to the surface

until Roger comes
with his friend.

Raja.
Right.

Wait, wait, wait. Wait.
He doesn't need a surface.

He needs a vacuum.

Much as I hate to say it,

can you spell that out?

Pressure caused Toby
to pass out.

The least pressure possible
is a vacuum.

I vacuum-seal leftovers for
me and Ralph all the time.

You need to vacuum-seal
Doc's head to get rid of the

pressure that's pushing
the toxins into his brain.

That is a smart idea, Paige.

Thank you... Walter.

Stop wasting time
and shrink-wrap that shrink now!

Walt, Walt, I know
you're foggy, but this is

a rudimentary project.

You don't need to be a genius
to pull it off.

You just need to focus
on the basic tenants of science,

and you'll figure it out.

Okay, but I could...

I could really do with you
holding my hand through it.

I could use a teammate?

Wow. You've never asked me to...

to work on something technical
before.

But why? You're so smart.

Okay. Well, my-my food sealer
has a-a vacuum pump.

You need to find

something like
that in there.

Okay, the, uh, argon room

has a vacuum pump
to purify the ball.

It's a mobile device
we can use for suction.

PAIGE: My leftovers get sucked
up tight in plastic wrap.

Is there anything in there
like that?

Uh, yeah, the, uh,
cellophane in this equipment.

Here. Keep it over here. Sly?

All right.

Okay, vacuum's in position.
Start wrapping.

Um...

(beatboxing)

♪ My name's Sylvester,
saving Toby's my goal ♪

♪ We better do it fast,
there might be a black hole. ♪

(beatboxing)

He meant wrapping cellophane,
moron.

PAIGE:
We'll time this together.

As soon as Toby
is fully wrapped,

I'll hold my breath, too.

When I gasp for air,
you uncover him.

Great.

You know, Paige,
I know I'm impaired,

but I'm still lucid enough
to know

that you're simplifying things
for me so that I can follow.

And I thought that was a way
to dumb oneself down.

But, actually, it's a way to be
more effective in communication.

Thank you.

You're welcome, Walter.

You know,

it feels really good to express
one's self openly like this.

I feel like,
now that my IQ's out of the way,

my EQ can flourish.

If this is what
it's like to be you,

I'm a tad envious.

Who the hell is this guy?

Maybe dopey Walter isn't so bad.

Hurry! We only have 4.5 minutes
until the plasma is launched,

and the world collapses
in on itself.

Maybe.

WALTER:
Happy, you ready?

Flip the switch!

(whooshing)

CABE:
All right.

Paige is holding her breath.

(whooshing)

Oh, this looks
like a horror movie.

Looks like a side
of Grade A Chuck.

See? Other people say “chuck”.

You know, Chuck's
a strange nickname.

It's not really
born of Charles.

It's not like “Will”

for “William”
or “Mike” for “Michael.”

I mean, how is “Jack”
a nickname for “John”?

Not even shorter.

Or “Peg” is “Margaret.”
What the hell is that?

Good Lord, they're stupid.

(whooshing)

(exhales)
All right.

Time's up! Unwrap him!

(gasping)
Toby?

How do you feel?

Like Freud and Jung
had an all-out fisticuffs

in my cerebellum.

(laughing)

What, are you laughing
at one of my jokes?

I don't know what that means,
but you're super funny.

I'm never leaving this lab.

Well, you're going
to help us leave, at least,

because if my calculations
are correct,

we have three minutes
and two seconds

until the plasma is launched.
(alarm sounding)

I was wrong.
My calculations were off.

We have zero seconds.

I can't figure out
how this all plays out.

Well, here's how it goes.

Supercharged particles are
rocketing in opposite directions

around the particle collider,
and at any minute,

they might smash
into each other, possibly

destroying the universe
as we know it, but

definitely blowing
our butts off.

Wow. Thank you for breaking
this down. This is bad.

No! No!

This is great!

How the hell is this great?

'Cause I'm the smartest one
on the team.

Now you're the Tobys!

Yes, you're smart again.
That was the plan

so you could save us,
not so you could gloat.

I can do both.
Quiet, dummy. Let me think.

Okay.

I got it.
You remember earlier

when Sly was saying
how all this was super cool?

Well, he's right.

That argon in the WIMP detector
is stored at

190 degrees below freezing.

That's literally super cool,
and the collider is super hot.

Cool... hot.

Following.

Mm-hmm, so if we can get
the argon to the collider,

it'll super-cool the plasma
so the ions can no longer travel

at a high energy,
thus eliminating their ability

to form any kind
of explosion upon collision.

Now I'm as lost
as Macaulay Culkin in New York.

Who?

Home Alone 2.

I love that movie.

I know, right?
Good as the original.

Guys! Zip it, meatheads!
We gotta turn that

argon ball into a big juice box.

So we're gonna
puncture it

with the empty hydrogen pipes,
and then steer freezing liquid

argon through the piping system
into the collider room.

Okay, we're gonna need
schematics

for this wackadoo plan to work.

Give me ten seconds.

I'll print the schematics.

Okay, Walt, grab a handsaw

and then climb up the pipe
in the collider room.

Cut it so it drops
toward the collider.

The supply closet's
out there to your left.

Copy that.

(alarm continues blaring)

Your other left!

Sly, you see all

the wheels along where
the pipe branches off?

Those are baffles. You need

to turn them off at
every pipe except the ones

that go to the
collider room.

Happy, you're with me.

Whatever you say,
Professor.

(alarm sounding)
(panting)

(grunting)

I can't get in! The door must
have locked automatically

once the plasma was launched.
We're screwed!

Pull!

Oh, okay.

Yep, collider's
at 100% capacity.

How's it going, Walt?

Argon river about to flow?

Yeah, getting there.

You know,

speaking of rivers,

Paige, maybe we can listen

to “Moon River” tonight
if we get out of this?

You can teach me
about the standards?

Broaden my horizons a bit?

Really?

Um, okay.

Redirecting
the hydrogen pipe now.

Almost done.

Okay, copy that. That was Raja.

He's ten minutes out
with the miners.

(grunts)

Ready to go here.

Sly, you finished?

Sly?

CABE:
What's going on?

He's nodding.
Sly, they can't hear a nod.

My “B.”

I'm done.

Walter, status?

I'll be done in two seconds.

Release the argon.

You sure we'll bust
through this thing?

Yeah.
We're super strong, remember?

Let's do it.

(grunts)

Walt, the force of the argon

is gonna snap off the end
of that pipe,

so make sure you get off

before you cut all the way through.
Huh?

(screams)

Walter!

(metal clangs, creaks)

(panting)

Oh!

Guys!

A little help here?

Oh, God. If he lets go,

he's gonna get burned alive
by the collider.

And if he holds on,
when the argon

goes through that pipe,
he's gonna freeze to death.

On our way, Walt.
Swing out.

Try to land away
from the collider.

I'm 25 feet in the air.

I'll break my ankles,

and I won't be able to run away
when the argon hits.

Not if we catch you.

We're jocks now, remember?

Use your super strength to swing

like you're doing
a trapeze leap.

How long until the argon
reaches him?

There's your answer.

Walter, the argon
is almost to you.

You have to let go.

We're not there yet!

I can feel the pipe
getting colder.

I have to jump.

(coughs)
Oh, perfect ten, O'Brien.

Much like your current IQ.

Let's boogie.

(coughing)

It's working.

(alarm stops blaring)

(all coughing)

(sighs) Well, we did it.

(prairie dog chittering)

Happy with yourself?

Jerk.

CABE:
There they are.

TOBY: Nothing could be finer
than to be rescued by a miner.

CABE:
Good job, guys.

Hey, great job, smarty-pants.

(laughs)

Good job.

I'm sorry about your lab.

I blame the prairie dog.

No, no. Insurance
will cover the damage.

Most important,
our research was proven,

and we have the data
stored in our server up here.

Thank you, Scorpion.

I'm glad you guys are safe.
WALTER: More importantly,

we're smart again.

Pi to the 35th digit:

3.141592....

...65358979...

...3238462...

...6433.

Backwards. 3346...

SYLVESTER:
...2648...

HAPPY:
...97985356...

WALTER:
...295141.3.

CABE:
Good work, team.

Uh, we're back.

Hey, Ralph.

Florence. Good evening.

I'm-I'm sorry
that we weren't reachable

during your crisis.

We had an amazing time at
the Chemistry Convention,

but it sounds
like we missed out

on almost maybe
seeing a black hole,

which is infinitely cooler.

SYLVESTER:
Well, if you have it in you

to sit through one more demo,

I'm about to show everybody
something.

The drink station?

I actually just engineered
this water filter.

Uh, please,
if you'd do the honors.

Ooh, that's quite good.

Tastes like home.

It's like a stream

at my Grandpa Gallo's farm.

Exactly.

How did you do that?

I researched
the chemical assays

on your grandfather's farm

online through the New York DWP.

This filter adjusts
the compounds in water

to match
the mineral compositions

of that same stream,

which is why it tastes
so delicious.

Sly, that is amazing.

Down in that lab,

we solved things so simply.

You explained things
to us so simply.

I realized I had to simplify
my plastics plan.

Instead of corralling
corporations

to change their supply
of bottles,

I focused on the demand.

If I can get one of these
to every West Altadenian,

they would choose to use
tap water over bottled

simply because of the taste.

Only question is,

how do I make
this 43-pound filter

scalable for mass production?

Well, whatever the case,

it's nice to have
your brain back, kid.

You know,

the science of water filtration
involves flocculation

and coagulation.

Isn't that your specialty,
Florence?

Yes.

We established that earlier.

Well, then would you be able
to help Sylvester

scale his water filter?

Yeah, I suppose so.

If you wouldn't mind me
helping you.

Wow. That'd be great.
If you don't mind.

That'd be great.
We can talk about it.

I think it'd be great.

Good-bye.

(Sylvester grunts)

(clears throat)

Those all the doctors we saw?

Most of them.

I'm trying to narrow
the field of contenders.

Hey, when we were
underground today,

we had no smarts,

and we had to do things

with some guts and instinct,

and it worked.

Maybe overthinking
can be a problem sometimes.

Who do you feel
is the right doctor?

As unhappy as it would make
my alumni association,

I want that doctor from Brown.

Good. I do, too.

I already made the appointment.

Let's go, dum-dum.

Time to play pharmacist.

Oh, hey. Good news.

I just read online
a singer I love

is, um, performing standards
tonight at a great little club

in Laurel Canyon.
We could get a sitter for Ralph.

They might even do “Moon River”"

Well, that's very kind of you,
Paige, but, uh...

(clears throat)
...I plan on working tonight.

I've got a lot of low-IQ time
to make up for.

I need to catch up
on some things,

maybe stimulate
the cranium a bit.

Oh, okay. I just....

I just figured
that 'cause you said

you wanted to learn
about old standards...

I will. One day soon.

But, uh, you know,
they're old standards, Paige.

They're not going anywhere,
right?

Right.

I'll miss you, dopey Walter.

Ralph, come on. Let's go.

You know, Walter,
this is an impressive

particle accelerator.

Oh, thank you.
I'm building a new...

Electronic feedback mechanism.

Yes, I can see that.

It's a cool design.

You could tell
it was a feedback mechanism?

Of course.

Your drawing
was as clear as day.

Though, if I'm not being
too bold...

Closed circuit.

Less easily bypassed.

You can tell
that's what I'm going for?

Oh, your drawing
was also clear as day.

Uh, may I?
Of course.

Yeah. Okay.

- And then perhaps another injector.
- Mm-hmm.

Over... here.

Fantastic.

Yes. Okay.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man