Original subtitles

Previously on Velma...

What I did was wrong.

I'm just so desperate to stop my hallucinations.

Then you leave me no choice but to help you cure them.

And you should hope I still wanna jump your bones once you're damage free.

So, someone is now killing men associated with Dr. Perdue's journals

and removing their dongs.

Have you heard of manifesting?

As tolerant as I've become, I still find that stuff a little silly.

Vincent?

- Oh, God! - Velma!

There are many things I feel strongly about. Our planet.

No more fracking for oil.

Or saying fracking as a double entendre!

Adult women who wear pigtails.

You're too fracking old!

But my whole life,

nothing has made me angrier than rich people.

Because they have money, they think they can get away with anything.

Museums should be named after robber barons, not murderers.

Change this name!

Because, annoyingly, they can.

So, there is no amount of money that would make me okay

with William Jones dating my mom.

Well, then, how about I date your mom and open bar?

No way.

Unlike a recorded message from any failed '90s celeb, I can't be bought.

What? No one ever says no to me.

Velma, you left your inhaler in my van.

Oh, God! Dad! No!

I mean, yes. I can't say no to you

'cause of your money, but I'm still upset!

Now, I'm sure you're both wondering how William and I became lovers.

It began with an interview for my memoir, and we just connected.

We connected so hard, I hurt my back.

But the point is Diya's the one person I found

who I can talk to honestly about Victoria.

You can talk honestly to me about Mom.

Just don't criticize her, because I will lash out.

Okay. You had your fun. Now, let's never mention it again,

unless a baby with a bowtie and a monocle

pops out in nine months. Good?

No, Velma. We like each other. But you fear not.

I promise to win you over with a fun weekend at the Jones estate.

The only thing more impressive than the house

is the number of people who died building it.

Fat chance. The only way I'm ever going back to your house

is with a mob of revolting peasants.

Plus, the science fair's Monday and you promised

to help me with my project this weekend.

Science fair? That's Mardi Gras for smart kids.

And you're the baby in the king cake.

How is this the first I'm hearing of it, Velma?

Because as rich people say when they're asked to pay taxes,

"I ain't doing it."

And Frederick, I promised to help

if you stopped claiming your mother was possessed by an evil ghost.

I guess I should hire someone to go talk to him.

Good idea. I need to have a little chat with Velma, as well.

About what? How much my therapy is gonna set you back?

Run the diagnostic, Lola. I'm hallucinating.

Got it.

My grandma's research worked.

You can see exactly where the hallucination happened in my noodle.

Hey, I can use that word, not you.

Sorry. I just got excited.

With this data, I might be able to neutralize my hallucinations.

And we'd totally win the science fair. Which is great,

'cause volleyball is sure not getting me into college anymore.

Norville, I told you. You don't need all science to stop your hallucinations.

Just trust that the marijuana I'm giving you will cure them.

It has zero side effects.

Now, why am I in here again?

I assume you want to test my pee to ensure the weed's working.

Positive! We'll test again at the science fair on Monday,

so just keep smoking. Zero side... effects.

Wait. Norville "I hate drugs" Rogers has been getting high?

Without me? WTF?

What? No, I've just always done what my dad says.

So, it's easier to buy dirty pee from a friend

and pass his test, than have a big fight.

Which reminds me, that was my last cup.

Evelyn, I need a re-up.

What? You're on trial for a hit and run in Miami?

But I can't wait two weeks. My dad is testing me on Monday.

Velma, the deal is you can only solve mysteries

if you maintain your grades and extracurriculars.

No, Mom. The deal is you don't date wealthy slimeballs

whose ex-wives kidnapped you.

- We never made that deal. - We shouldn't have to.

You know I hate the rich. I'd be a Communist,

if I didn't want to kill my lazy teammates on every group project.

Fine. Then let me propose a deal we can both agree on.

If you win the science fair, I'll stop seeing William.

The science fair is a waste of time.

I'm trying to find another serial killer,

not a more efficient way to process ammonia

and increase global crop yield. Wait.

You love science, you genius.

And it's something to fall back on, if mystery solving doesn't work out.

Fine. If I win the science fair, you dump William

and promise no more dating rich guys.

Unless the actor, Steven Yeun, is rich.

Have you ever needed to push up your glasses,

scratch your nose or swat a fly,

but you're in the middle of a complex chemistry experiment?

Well, the future is now. Handso, push up glasses.

Damn it!

Now how am I gonna win the science fair?

How about, "Can curly fries be made straight again?"

I know it's not your intent, but that sounds homophobic.

Maybe I can help. A lot of cool inventions come from moms

who see a need for something.

Like, you know, those social media videos of dogs who talk with buttons?

I only follow Gloria Steinem and Noam Chomsky.

So, yes, it's all they post.

Well, Gigi's mom, Susan, invented one for babies

called a Baby Babble Box.

Nap. Hungry.

Election. Stolen. Witch hunt.

She's a genius.

See, my dad's already dating a nightmare.

If I don't make a prizewinning project by tomorrow,

I'm gonna end up with someone even worse in my life.

You're welcome to join the project I'm doing with Amber.

Amber? What does Amber know about science?

They think bird flu was caused by an eclipse.

I know, but my moms are making us be partners.

They want us to use our science project

to help solve the Mr. S and Cogburn cases.

Oh, my God, yes! I am so in.

By manifesting some clues,

the way we manifested our Creaky Friday win.

Our project is manifesting.

While that sounds great,

I don't know if manifesting is science-y enough to win.

That's where you're wrong.

Since Mr. S died, there's a new science fair judge

who's way less science-y.

Wait, who?

Norville. How could you not tell me

your dad is judging the science fair?

Oh, right. That's what I wanted to tell you earlier.

I'm even getting paid. Which is good,

because the pot I've been buying you is not cheap.

Wait, Dad, you're judging the science fair for money?

Are we okay?

You're not borrowing money from the Mafia again, are you?

Norville, the only thing you need to worry about

is curing your hallucinations with pot

the way your loving father tells you to.

The sooner the better.

With your dad as the judge, you're sure to win.

Well, normally, yes. But if I can't find some dirty pee,

he'll know I'm defying him and freak out.

I once got detention for telling him

B.F. Skinner wasn't my favorite psychologist.

Damn. But wait. Not to sound like an East German swim coach,

but if I get you some pee to pass his drug test,

you're guaranteed to win, right?

I mean, without a doubt.

But are you seriously gonna get high for me?

Every year you complain that 4/20 distracts from Jessica Lange's birthday.

I can't. The one time I got high,

I was convinced a dog was talking to me.

But if I figure it out, can I join your science fair project?

Does a multipolar neuron have two or more dendrites?

You bet your ass it does.

Oh. God! Handso! No!

I don't have time to spend the weekend at your boyfriend's.

I need to figure out how to win the science fair.

Driver, take me to the nearest music festival.

Wait, these waters are free, right?

Yes, and we're not going to a music festival.

But I knew you'd get excited about science again.

Soon you'll be like...

I can't think of a famous woman scientist.

And now I'm just picturing Einstein with boobs.

But I still expect you to try and enjoy this weekend.

Enjoy a rich man using his wealth

to distract us from the atrocities of his family?

Pass me that caviar. It'll just go to waste otherwise.

Guys, getting pierced was such a good science fair idea.

Was such a good science fair idea.

Look where we are. It's Daphne's new friend's store.

They must have put a spell on us.

What new friend?

Who do I know that can balance popularity and a job?

- Daphne! - Hey, Amber.

This is your mom's place?

I knew you two were opening an occult bookstore,

but this is nuttier than cheap trail mix.

Nutty? Wicca is just like any other religion,

except less hating gays and more nude frolicking in the moonlight.

We only frolic nude in the sunlight. This is weird. Come on, Daph.

You know what? I'll catch up with you girls later.

We have to work on our totally normal science fair project.

Amber! Daphne, come quick! The frogs are spawning!

Manifest abundance before the crone flies.

Velma! Welcome.

I took the liberty of having the staff prepare pink lemonade.

Seriously? Pink lemonade is my favorite.

And it costs 13 cents more than regular lemonade.

But just FYI, I still think all rich people are evil.

Which is why I've taken a note from the numerous musicals

depicting a plucky but downwardly mobile young woman

visiting a rich man's home,

and had the staff prepare a musical number to make you feel welcome.

You are poor So you will like this

Some joy in your Grubby little life, Miss

Let us treat you Like a prince... Princess

What the hell is going on?

It's like a big type of Act Two musical number.

You can lead A life of leisure

Wash in a bath Of ancient treasure!

Here's a robot That thinks you're clever

Not interested. What? No. Never.

Your own Swedish masseuse

Tell that Swede to go vamoose.

Hate walking?

Take your railway

But what would the 99% say?

Would a breakfast buffet Be so awful?

Even Karl Marx couldn't resist a waffle.

Don't listen to them. Father's a traitor, and this is a house of lies.

Mother just died Have you no remorse?

Son, I can't copulate With a corpse!

And now you're trying To buy Velma's love!

Fred's right! But how much money are we speaking of?

Shall we take this All away, then, Velma?

And pray college tuitions Don't overwhelm ya?

You're poor!

Who am I kidding?

I am poor and I love this!

Take me to that money bath.

Fred, can I come in?

It's just me, your dad's new girlfriend.

Nothing weird.

I know. And I'm not mad about you dating my dad.

Monogamy is for the middle class.

I'm mad because my father's punishing me

for thinking my mom's innocent.

Well, sometimes parents have to be tough on kids

because they care about them

and don't want to be embarrassed publicly by their dumb choices.

You wanna hear about caring?

Every year Mother helped me with my science fair project.

She loved hiring the scientists to do all the work

and then stiffing them if I didn't win.

I miss her so much.

Fred, I'm sorry, but as a way to get to know each other,

maybe I could help you with your project.

And what do I have to do in return?

Teach you how to fit into polite society?

- Nothing. Just pick a project. - Actually...

Mother never even let me do that.

And I have always wondered where toast comes from.

My hypothesis is the kitchen.

Well, that sounds like a good start.

Lola! I did it!

You figured out the right amount of Chinese food for two people?

No. The scientific community has given up on that.

I calculated exactly how much electricity I need

to shock the neurons, causing my hallucinations.

If it works, my dad will assume it was the pot

and I won't have to pass any more drug tests.

Okay, but to be safe, before shocking your brain,

maybe try it on something else first.

I'm confident in my equations. But hey, if you insist.

Velma, if we want to win, I'm gonna need that tainted pee.

I'm on it, because even though I've come to appreciate vast wealth

and no longer wanna break up my mom and William,

I'm still a good and honorable person.

Eat this and then pee in a cup for me. Pull.

Where's Velma?

- Norville? Test time. - One second.

My dad is going to test me.

If Velma doesn't show up with the dirty pee,

I'll just have to try the shock treatment.

At least the last potato almost didn't explode.

Norville, you can't risk it. Just smoke weed already.

TBH, this jar is half bong water.

- Hey, Norville. - Velma, my number one buddy.

And by number one, I mean urine.

Velma's here. Yes, I refer to myself in the third person now.

So, do you have the pee or not?

Yes! I'm saved.

Why does this have a price tag? And why is it $9.99?

Wait. This is too funny.

You know what this is? This is a juice shot,

my fabulous wellness doctor has put me on.

Okay, but where's the dirty pee? Papa needs that liquid gold.

Sorry. One of the cleaning people must have thrown it out.

But don't worry. It's okay if you fail the test and we lose.

I want my mom to date William.

It's not okay! My dad will freak out!

And I didn't plan on having our inevitable "I'm not you, Dad" fight,

until I got my Carl Jung poster back from the framers.

Norville, listen to Velma.

As someone who now lives a life of zero consequences,

believe me when I say this, too much stress is terrible for your skin.

But still, I'll make this right.

What?

And so, in conclusion, while we can now

say with confidence where toast comes from...

...where it came from before the advent of the toaster,

remains one of science's greatest mysteries.

Great job, Fred.

You even managed to say "focaccia" inoffensively.

Wait, why do I feel all warm and safe?

Because that's what hugs feel like?

No! Mother said hugs drained children of their resilience.

That's why she selflessly refused to ever give me one.

Okay. Well, since you're so good at science now,

do you wanna test out that hypothesis?

I guess. I mean, I'm always happy to prove Mother right.

Little Freddie feel cozy.

No! These feelings are wrong. Stop!

- Fred, I'm sorry. - I hate this.

- Stop hugging me! - I'm trying.

- You need to come to the science fair. - I'm here. Have a surprise for Velma.

Our science fair project was testing the power of positive reinforcement.

So we spoke different words to rats

and then measured their maize feed.

The rat called Smart did way better than the one called Sexy.

But the best was mine. Hot Bitch.

Oh, wonderful!

Okay, so what's this project, you Hot Bitches?

It's about focusing on what you want.

Like my moms need clues in their Mr. S

and Sheriff Cogburn murder investigation.

We wrote, "Find the killer" on a piece of paper, sealed it in this envelope

and spent 10 minutes each day visualizing his discovery.

That is the dumbest project here, and I just ate Fred's project.

I'm so sorry your moms made you work with Amber.

Wait. They made you work with me?

The crows in my dream were right.

I knew better than to doubt them.

No, Olive's wrong. I wanted to work with you,

but I was too embarrassed to admit it to my friends,

which is crazy, because you're so interesting,

and I think our project's amazing.

I agree. Every day I envision

I'm such a perfect father that Norville will never feel the need

to think for himself and push me away.

Mr. Rogers! Come quick. Norville cured his hallucinations.

As Daddy knew he would.

See? That's the area that caused the hallucinations.

It used to be all lit up, and now there's nothing.

Norville, you did it. See? The pot worked.

I'm so happy.

There's literally nothing I wouldn't do for you right now.

I'd love to win the science fair.

Okay, so about that...

Don't wanna invest in that.

Maybe. Oh, hello!

Hello, science fair participants. So many amazing projects.

Almost all of them went right over my head.

Regardless, the winner of this year's blue ribbon is Velma Dinkley.

- What? - What? How?

I didn't enter. Though rich me does still feel pretty deserving of it.

Velma, in conjunction with her partner, Neil deGrasse Tyson

and with generous funding from the Fred D. Jones Foundation,

proved aliens are more likely to exist than to not exist.

- Burn the rich! - You're welcome, Velma.

What? You bought the science fair for me?

But I didn't want to win. And now everyone hates me.

Velma, being hated is a huge part of being rich.

It's right up there with calling waiters "garcon"

and hiring lookalikes to confuse crowds.

Remember, you get paid by the bruise.

There they are. Get 'em!

Well, I'm not rich.

So, if people are gonna hate me, I wanna earn it.

Like Scrooge or a bad boy of tennis.

I get that.

It's just such a shame you'll never get rich solving mysteries.

Yeah, but only because my mom will probably force me

to do something boring with my life, like cure heart disease.

Actually, Velma, if solving mysteries is what you wanna do, then go all in.

Parents don't always know what's best for their kids, right, William?

Speak for yourself. I handled Fred perfectly.

Why, this is the first weekend in ages

I haven't heard any nonsense about ghosts or Victoria.

What?

This means so much to me, and my partner,

Vermoose Drunkie.

Everyone! I understand you're upset.

But I will not accept this as I did not work on this project.

Worse, I bailed on the team I was supposed to work with

because I didn't know money would make me forget about my friends.

Even though I was warned by, like, every movie.

Regardless, the blue ribbon should go to Norville.

His project is obviously the best.

Thank you, Velma, but I don't deserve it, either.

I just copied work my grandmother did in the '70s.

The only project here that looks like it didn't have

an adult actually doing all the work is Fred's toast thing.

- Give the award to him. - Seriously?

I said, get off me!

Thank you, Norville. It says a lot when you get more support

from the grandson of the woman who ruined your life

than your own father.

Hey, we don't have enough context to fully understand that.

It's okay, because I do.

Fred, look,

I'm sorry I refused to work on your science fair project with you.

I thought you needed a reality check. But maybe what you really need

is a father who's willing to listen,

even if what you're saying is batshit crazy.

Really? That was mostly the nicest thing you've ever said to me.

Yes. Would you like to use our upper limbs to briefly cling together?

I suppose just this one time.

Hey, Hot Bitch is missing!

You freaks better not have taken her for some messed up potion.

I was gonna feed her to my snake.

Call them a freak again, and I'll feed you to my fist.

Daphne. Don't let them get under your skin.

Most people dislike magic. That's why all magicians are virgins.

I know. It's just I wanted us to find a clue and prove manifesting works.

Maybe even win Gigi and Olive over.

But it did work. Look what else was in the envelope.

It works on people, too?

'Cause I'm real tired of acting nice to make people like me.

Okay. Well, in that case,

would you like to learn some real witchcraft?

Norville, is Daphne reading a spell book with interest?

And be warned, your answer will dictate

how hard I squeeze your arm in frustration.

Hard to say, as I 100% don't give a shit.

Norville. How did you get these journals?

How do you think?

I dressed up as a ghost and stole them from the police station.

- What? - Yeah.

Sometimes I do bad things that you don't know about.

For instance, I bought tainted pee to pass your stupid drug tests.

Oh, no! In neutralizing his hallucinations,

Norville accidentally removed all his empathy.

He's now functioning with zero compassion.

This is why you listen to me. Science has side effects.

Pot has none. Now look me in my painfully dry,

bloodshot eyes and apologize.

No, because I think for myself now.

And I think smoking weed makes you a loser.

That's just the science talking. Take it back.

Or what, loser?

Or you'll get detention.

And you can all join him for saying "ooh" to my son.

Saturday, 7:00 AM sharp.

Welcome to hell!

Wait. What were we just talking about?