Dale, you've been staring at that Rolo lava cake for 20 minutes.
- This isn't a library. - I got it.
- Three packets, sugar in the raw. - That's how I like my sugar... raw.
This has been a wonderful plutonic exchange.
I will see you next week.
Come on.
Where are we going? Only weirdos live down here.
Just a little further.
Last one in's a rotten Skittle.
Whoo!
Wait, is it safe down here?
- Why, are you afraid of tiny sharks? - Ahhh!
Mark! God, you jerk!
- Don't do that. - Ow!
- You okay? - Yeah. I just felt...
Allie!
Oh, my God. Allie.
No, no!
KORVO: Everybody buckled in?
- You bet! - Shut the fuck up.
I have a brief kick ass speech to make.
The ship is repaired again,
and we are finally able to leave this M-class hellhole for good.
- Thank you. - We did this last year.
"Blah, blah, blah, Earth sucks, sci fi, sci-fi we're leaving."
Change the channel. This sucks.
This shit's happening. Aisha, activate pre-launch sequence now.
First off, who do you think you're talking to with that tone?
Second, activated.
Talking about "now". Bitch.
This is a momentous day for all of us, but mostly for me,
'cause I am mission leader and did all the work
while you guys totally shat the bed.
Launch aborted. Some crew are not on board.
What are you talking about? We're all buckled in and... Oh!
Yeah, Korvo!
Damn it. I always fall for the Talkboy.
Ha! You got Shawshanked, Ferris Bueller'd and Ghallagered.
Yeah.
Infinite Slip N Slide?
You know I can't launch the ship unless you guys are on.
No! My foot! It's dissolved into goo. Why don't you care?
Look at me. Stop having fun. I'm melting.
This is what we're doing today, figuring this out. Stop!
KORVO: Planet Shlorp was a perfect utopia until the asteroid hit.
One hundred adults and their replicants
were issued a Pupa and escaped into the space,
searching for new homes on uninhabited worlds.
We crashed on Earth, stranding us on an already overpopulated planet.
That's right, I've been talking this whole time.
I'm the one holding the Pupa.
My name's Korvo. This is my show.
I just dropped the Pupa. Do you see me?
This is ridiculous. I hate Earth! It's a horrible home.
People are stupid and confusing.
They're always ordering these complicated coffee drinks.
Why would you ever have coffee when you could just ingest
a room temperature tan colored energon cone?
Don't talk to me until I've had my tan cone.
Do you want me to drain your bucket?
That's still me in there.
- And yes, I know it smells like shit. - Hi. Sorry for the wait.
Prom season. Tons of abortions today. Busy, busy, busy.
Before I give you our diagnosis,
are you certain you don't have any alien technology
that's better to evaluate this?
We decided to change it up. We go to the ship with problems a lot.
A lot.
Well, they don't exactly teach alien goo
in medical school, but I found some articles
about dog herpes that seemed to line up.
Korvo, you have what we call Alpha DNA.
The building blocks of your cells have receptors that are only activated
if the pack are fulfilling their roles.
- Wait, are we the pack? - That doesn't sound right.
Once your team's failure continues long enough,
the receptors decay, triggering a "goo sequence"
designed to kill you so the next dog or alien in line can take over.
- Isn't that funny. - You lazy idiots are killing me.
Luckily, it's reversible,
but only if these dummies do their respective jobs in a serious way.
What! I can't rely on them.
Fuck that, fill me with chemo. I want the chemo.
They really don't like us to throw chemo at family issues.
Okay, I got you set up on the couch here with plenty of fluids,
- root beer, Sunny D and piss. - Is the piss hot?
- I want hot piss. - Gonna get this good and tight,
so none of your stinky goo drips out.
Don't think of it as a trash bag. It's more of a whole body diaper.
I know why you fucks are being nice. You feel bad. Shove it.
Your guilty feelings can't solidify my legs.
I know this is very unlike me,
but I'm feeling guilty over melting Korvo with my laziness.
Yeah, me too.
Maybe we should just do some mission stuff,
just like enough so he can get better.
To piggyback off your pitch with a slight twist,
what if we let Korvo melt but also did whatever we wanted?
See, what I like about that is then we wouldn't have to do our jobs.
Great collab. Terry.
Guys, we are not letting Korvo turn to goo.
We should at least put him out of his misery.
Can someone please refill my piss?
We can't kill Korvo. Who'd wash my t-shirts?
He does buy all the groceries and hide all the bodies.
Crap, without him, we'd have to do the chores.
Let's just do our mission roles more,
but only enough to not have to take out the trash.
- Easy peasy. - We've got this.
Do you two even know what your mission roles are?
- Zero fucking clue. - No.
Aisha, please explain to the replicants what their mission roles are.
And you know what? Let's just run through mine, too, for fun.
In detail, por favor.
Should I just play the orientation crystals?
Orientation crystals?
Sounds like some shit we should've watched already.
They were meant to be viewed daily. Dumbass.
In these first moments of your mission, remember what is at stake.
- Shlorp is depending on your... - Boring, boring, boring.
Yumyulack, Protector and head of security.
You ward off any threats to the mission.
Strong and fierce, willing to die so the team can live.
Let's put "willing to die" down as a maybe.
Jesse, the Chronicler. Be observant.
Record your adventures with clarity, both in triumph and defeat
so future Shlorpians learn from your mistakes.
I'm like the JK Rowling of this pack. Crucio!
Terry, your job is most important.
Because the Pupa will grow up to terraform your new planet,
you must nurture him.
For, as the Pupa specialist, he is your responsibility.
Hold the fuck on. I'm supposed to be taking care of the Pupa?
- Korvo says that all the time, Terry. - This isn't news.
I'm not ready to raise a Pupa. I'm still finding myself.
I want to go to Cabo, damn it.
You want some crackers to go with your wine?
Being responsible is scary, but it's time to grow up
and start working on the mission. For Korvo!
BOTH: For Korvo!
- What the hell are you doing? - Shit! We forgot about the Korvo thing.
Earth is too distracting. We can't do our jobs here,
with all the trap queens in need of hyping.
I've got to park that big Mack truck right in that little garage.
If we're going to focus, we've got to do it on a new planet.
Good. Aisha, initiate the pre-launch before these idiots change their minds.
- Fine. The shit is initiated. - Launch time, baby.
- Not all the crew is accounted for. - Fuckers!
Wait, but everyone's here.
All crew means all body parts that got severed and left around town.
- Wait. What? - Go get your dick.
Anyone been leaving body parts around?
I mean, yeah. I live a full and rich life.
You think my calendar's so open I can just pick up my own body parts all day?
Wrong.
Don't look at me. I keep my shit tonight.
Activate the Shlorpian Extremity Triangulator.
It scans the planet for Shlorpian flesh. Creepy, but perfect for this moment.
I'm clean, all my pieces are on the ship.
You've been dropping your limbs all over the place.
Five at Home Depot?
That must have been from the summer I tried to be a MythBuster.
Those two ginger mummies didn't leave any myths for the rest of us.
You're supposed to be chronicling not busting popular myths.
- Oh! My favorite hand. - We've got to get these body parts
before Korvo is goo for good or we'll have to learn how to do taxes.
It's hella complicated.
Good luck figuring out the depreciation value
of time traveling sneakers you only use for business.
Are we just going to leave the Pupa behind, Terry?
He can't get out of the Pupa seat.
And even if he could, he'd never stray from his puffs.
RECORDED VOICE: The cow says...
Eddie! Ooh, you're home early.
Katie. Baby, Kiss me.
Get in here.
I still can't believe it was one year ago
to the day you got down on your knee and gave this to me.
Remember? It was our second date.
I thought you were crazy.
I am. Crazy. For you.
I swore I would never go out with someone who worked for my dad.
But you're not like his other employees. You're, you're different.
Ooh, how'd the sales trip go?
- Crushed it. Crushed it. - Daddy will love that.
Means he won't see it coming when we rob him blind.
All right people, I'm gooing pretty bad.
So let's get these limbs and get back to the business
of leaving this shithole planet.
Bad ice.
Don't ask me how it got there.
Ask them why they never cleaned it.
Hey, my ball... Back scratcher.
Suck it, Cooke.
- You did the right thing, - So everyone got their body parts?
Almost. We just have to go to the Windy City to pick up the last two.
You went to Chicago and didn't invite me?
You know how much I like the Schaumberg outlets.
Last time we wasted all our time waiting for you at the Hammacher Sclemmer.
Me and Yumyulack have been commuting to Chi-town
to practice with the Chicago Pro Tumblers.
They're a legendary acrobatic halftime show.
I do it to help me stay agile.
Plus, we get to hang with Pippen when he's around.
He took a tough tumble into each other, last practice and knocked
our tushes clean off.
Ooh, there they are.
Guys, Jesse and Yumyulack are back.
What's up, Emily?
Alyssa, how you been?
No, Josh and Sophia, what happened?
We snapped ankles warming up for the semi-regional
halftime show championships.
- What? - But that's today.
You and Yummy have to sub in to do the final team tumble.
No, thanks, we're in a time crunch.
MAN OVER PA: Chicago Pro Tumblers to the floor.
What are you... Don't you put that,
don't you put on that sweet tumbling gear.
Drop those knee socks right now, mister.
- Hey, I can see you. - When Tumbling calls,
you accept the charges.
Get back here!
I kind of want to see it.
This stupid bullshit really meant a lot to you two, didn't it?
It's the most satisfying thing I've done in my life.
Okay, well, then I'm glad we did it, I guess.
- I still wish I wasn't turning into goo. - Terry, your turn.
What Turn? Like I said, I keep my ship tonight.
Don't insult me. I'm not a replicant.
Wow, yes, that's a lot of arms.
Dozens tightly clustered over the ocean. Terry, you stinky shit!
- Did you feed your arms to a whale? - No.
No. What did I do?
- Gladwell. - What's a Gladwell?
Pop sociologist Malcolm Gladwell, We've been ripping and tearing ass
on the reg for a while now and every morning
I would chew my arm off rather than wake him up.
Because if I did, we would be chatting about the human condition all morning.
The guy won't shut up.
My arms are somewhere aboard his private non-fiction yacht, The Shipping Point.
It's an intellectual cruise experience he runs for his fans.
How would we ever have gotten all that from you just saying, Gladwell?
Don't be jealous, Korvo. It doesn't look good.
I'm not. A sexual relationship with an award winning author?
I'm impressed. Best I could swing was a hand job
from the two guys who keep track of all the horse names
for George R.R. Martin.
KATIE: Baby, but what about the plan?
We were going to wait until that prick promotes you and then fleece him.
- Tomorrow. Tomorrow. No argue. - The last flight to Mexico.
So you have to talk to Daddy today.
Be careful. He has powerful friends, baby.
You got to play this perfectly.
Relax, Relax. It's me.
God, it'll all be worth it once we're in Zihuantanejo.
Take me again.
God, I love your body so much.
Excuse us. We're G-O-G, Guests of Gladwell.
- Terry. Should be on your book there. - Terrence. You look great.
Love the shirt.
- Is that lambswool? - Glady.
You're looking observant as always.
I see you've brought your family. How lovely.
- Mr. Gladwell... - Stop. Just Gladwell.
Gladwell, would you sign my 10,000 hours ray?
It simulates studying for 10,000 hours, your Outliers book inspired me.
My key insight was that if you spend a lot of time
on something you can get good at it. Seems like common knowledge now,
but at the time, it was unheard of.
Yeah, genius Gladwell. So listen, there's a reason we're here.
Let me guess. Terrence needs his arms back.
Damn, he's good.
Let's run up to my penthouse and get them.
In the meantime, do the rest of you want VIP tickets
to see our in-cruise show, Malcolm Dragwell?
It's drag queens lip syncing to audio recordings of my book.
Cool! You guys do that and I'll be right back with my arms.
Enjoy the show.
Do you remember that hot air balloon over Portugal?
We made that basket so hot that the balloon rose an extra 100 feet.
Yes. The summer we screwed in every type of dirigible.
Remember when you had me on that zeppelin?
I am so nervous to meet a Malcolm Dragwell Queen.
I'm not dressed for royalty.
I find it hard to believe there's enough Gladwell demand
to justify a whole Stan culture.
I hope there's stuff from Blink in the show.
I love that book.
It's about how sometimes we just know stuff without having to think or learn.
I feel that way constantly.
Pour me a drink while I look for your arms.
Make one for yourself, too.
Ah, been a hell of a day. I don't know if you could tell, but Korvo is melting.
- He's sensitive about it. - My God. Come, tell me.
Hey, hey, hey. No traps.
I'm not having a drink or sitting on the bed.
Just give me my... Your hair is looking zanier than normal.
Are you styling it different? It's cute.
Still just rubbing a balloon on it after showering.
What? That's not hair. Those are my arms.
- What did you do? - You like them to rot.
I gave them purpose. I gave them life. They've been writing my books.
Sadly, I've had them so busy scribbling
they've fused into some kind of rat king.
That's straight up gross.
Now, they're more creative than ever before.
My latest bestseller, Thou Who Smelt It Dealt It
was their idea.
You can't force my arms to write their own fart ideas.
I already have.
David Remnick interviewed me an hour ago. Grab him.
Is this the way to the VIP room?
I'll have a rum and diet to start, please.
Shit! They're going to throw us into the ocean.
I'm going to get diluted and excreted through a million disgusting squids.
Did Gladwell sign off on this?
This is how we do it in Chi-raq, biatch!
Here.
Yeah, bitch. Slip on my stinky goo and drop to your death.
Now scoop me up into the backpack.
Sales. Always. Big, Big growth.
Profits, up. Money, yes, yes.
Damn, Eddie. How is it that you're never in the office
and you just crushed my Q2 sales record?
Get on my level. Bro.
All right, boys, back to work. Eddie, stick around for a second.
Now you listen to me, you son of a bitch.
You might have everyone else fooled, but I have been onto you since day one.
I knew there was something off about you.
I couldn't put my finger on it.
But you messed up when you made a move on my daughter.
I did a background check on you, Eddie. You know what I found?
Nothing. You are who you say you are.
But that doesn't change how I feel in my gut.
And the only thing I love more than profits is that little girl of mine.
So, I'm writing you a check for $10,000,000. It's a bribe.
Get out of Katie's life.
Then what do you want? What's your price?
Are you out of your fucking mind?
- Ow! Ow! - Stop hitting yourself, Terrence.
- Cheap joke, Gladwell. - Yes.
But it was right there and I think I made my point.
Your arms obey me now. I say hit you, they hit.
I say write a book, they type up cherry picked anecdotes
to support my nursery school wisdom.
I'll give you one last chance. Live with me on the open seas.
We'll make love while your arms write my TED Talks. A perfect life.
If it were up to me, I'd tap that curly shit all day.
But I've already got a team.
Pity. Consider your point tipped.
No. Terry's arms formed a rat king and they've sided with Gladwell.
How did you gather that so fast?
Because I'm young and adulthood hasn't atrophied my imagination.
Stop it. Stop it, Terry's arms.
Korvo, his arms. They're listening to you.
I'm their mission leader. It's their biological imperative.
- Terry's arms. Stop being dicks. - No, Terry's arms. I'm your leader now.
I'm the one who lets you grease me up before bedtime.
You've never done anything right in your shoulder-girdled lives.
You're worthless. But you can change that right now.
Come home with us, Terry's arms.
- Come home. - No, my career will be over.
Without Terry's arms, all I'll be able to write
is the erotic Luigi's Mansion fan-fic
that comes to me so naturally. I can't go back to that.
I won't go back to that.
- Hey, Gladwell. I'm Yumyulack. - So?
I'm head of mission security so consider your dumb ass secured.
- What did you do to him? - He's 10,000 hours stupider.
I'm going to go write a novel about video games and '80's movies.
He'll land on his feet.
Oh, man, I wish I had feet. I'm feeling pretty shitty.
Korvo!
Almost home, buddy. Think solid. Stay solid.
Who was that psycho?
Hey. Ahhh!
Aisha, launch the ship.
AISHA: All crew members present. Launch activated.
We're doing it. We're actually leaving!
No, no, no, no, no, no. No!
KORVO: No!
- What happened? - All ship systems have been compromised
by the heavy levels of iron in these puffs.
Where did they all come from?
I guess it was me? I only remember packing a couple
so the Pupa could have favorite snacks for the trip.
You were trying to be a better Pupa specialist.
We can clean this up, Korvo.
You can talk us through the repairs.
Please, I just started chronicling
and I don't want this to be how my first journal entry ends.
Yeah, we can still save you.
No, the puffs have destroyed the circuits.
The damage is too severe.
You'll have to stay on Earth permanently.
- What about you? - I'm afraid it's time for me to goo.
I'm sorry I failed you all as leader. Today, I realized that each of you
has been fulfilling your mission roles in convoluted ways
because I hadn't created an environment where my team could thrive.
I should have set down roots on Earth,
found a work life balance instead of repairing the doggone ship all the time.
- Korvo. - Goodbye, big guy.
All right, go enjoy your Slip N Slide and leave me to turn into goo.
That's my final order as mission leader.
AISHA: Damn Korvo.
That's a lot of emotional growth.
And, you know, I could vacuum up this puff dust in like, two minutes.
- Yes, I am well aware. - So why you lie?
Being on Earth is what's best for my team
even if it's what's worst for me.
Did you see that? I grew a leg.
Holy shit. Another, another leg.
My sacrifice. I was team leader and my team worked together.
- I'm regaining my form. - It's fucking gross.
Can you do it somewhere else?
Guys! Guys, get up here and help me. I'm getting my body back.
Little help up here.
Hello? Stop leaving me to die.
I'm not dying anymore. I'm thirsty for piss.
Ah, finally, back to normal. Feels good to not be goo anymore.
And did you mean it, Korvo, that you're going to put down some roots this year?
Yes. If the options are turning into a sack of slime
or learning how to like Earth, then I guess I'll have to give it a try.
Sounds like the Solar Opposites are going to be having some fun this year.
And the fun will begin right now as we watch all the Tom Clancy movies
in order, starting with The Hunt For Red October.
What? No. Those are grown up movies. Can't we watch John Wick?
No! I'm setting down roots the way I want.
And that means Jack Ryan and courtroom dramas.
Sorry, back up. Which Jack Wick movie are we watching?
It's Jack Ryan, dummy. Keep up.
Is this going to be happening all the time now, Jesse?
You know, I hate repeating myself.
My hand's cramping.
Well, why don't you use that Tuckboy
you're so keen on tricking me with and transcribe it later?
I must say, Pupa. Nothing like a purple puff.
So her old man went for the bargain, just like we thought.
Yummy.
You're a cold hearted son of a bitch, Pupa.
Who's our next target?
The heir to the Popchips fortune? Hell, yes. Let's fucking go!
Ma'am, that was final boarding. I have to close the door.
No! You can't. My fiancé's coming.
I know he is.
Yeah. Let me take you to our section for people who were stood up
by their loved ones.