Original subtitles

THEME SONG: Here we go.

We're getting out on the road till we stop.

And then we'll shop.

So one, two, three now, baby.

Here we go, go, go.

Here we go.

Here we go.

On a mission undercover, and we're in control.

Here we go.

Here we go.

We're Totally Spies, so we'll get on with the show.

Here we go.

Here we go.

Here we go.

[music playing]

[horns honking]

Oh. Well, look.

Huh, matching Hawaiian shirts.

Oh.

We love them, kids.

And last but not least, for you, darling.

Oh.

Possession?

Top of the line, and the last one in the store.

Here.

Let me.

[gasps]

[gasps]

Huh?

Hank, wh where are you going?

Must find true love.

[distressed cries]

[music playing]

[bell ringing]

[dreamy sighing]

There's just something about a guy in uniform.

Yeah.

It should be illegal to be that cute.

Here you go, girls.

That's two iced chai teas and one iced decaf mocha

frappe with no-fat whip.

GIRLS: Thanks, David.

So, David, I was wondering if you had plans for Saturday

night? [grunts] Ow.

David, could you excuse us?

[giggles] Girl talk.

Cool.

No problem.

You were going to ask David to the Sadie Hawkins dance,

weren't you?

Isn't that the point of a Sadie Hawkins dance, Alex?

The girl asks the guy.

Yeah.

But did you stop to consider that this girl

might want to ask that guy?

Whoa, girls.

No guy is worth this stress, especially

when the guy in question is so clearly interested in me.

What?

Excuse me?

I'm sorry.

Look, I say we make a pact.

None of us invite David to the dance.

Best friends first and foremost.

No fighting over guys.

[electronic beeping]

[girls scream]

[distressed cries]

Impressive.

That was way too easy.

[shrieks]

Gross.

[giggling]

[growling]

Can we get down to business?

It's always work, work, work with you, Jerr.

You know what you need?

A date.

[clears throat]

I have no time to date and neither do you.

A recent phenomenon has been happening in New York.

Men are suddenly leaving their wives and girlfriends.

Guys can be such flakes.

Except for David.

He's perfect.

And completely Sadie Hawkins worthy.

Spies, please focus.

These men aren't just leaving.

They're walking out the door with nothing

but the shirts on their backs, never to be heard from again.

That is odd.

Extremely.

And now for some gadgets that may help you with your mission.

Inside, you'll find hoverboards, bungee belts, scanner watches,

suction cup-bottomed go-go boots,

and wonder makeover kits.

To work the kits, you program the desired look,

and the automated applicators spring into action.

Spring?

But my colors are more of a summer.

Just find where these men are and why they are disappearing.

Here's an address of a distressed wife

you should question.

Sure you don't want to come, Jerr?

With all these newly single women,

you might just snag a date.

Uh. Hmm.

Good luck, spies.

[shouting]

[siren wailing]

[sobbing]

So you were celebrating your anniversary

when your husband just bolted?

I can't explain it.

Hank and I had such a happy marriage.

We didn't even argue over the remote.

That was my Hank.

[sobs]

Rose, would you mind if we looked around?

Oh, go right ahead.

I'll just check behind that lamp.

Hi, David.

This is Alex.

I just wanted to say hi and, uh, see

if you felt like going to the Sadie Hawkins dance with me.

OK. Let me know.

Bye. Oh, nope.

Nothing behind the lamp.

Find anything?

What's this?

Um.

The gift paper I used to wrap Hank's cologne.

I should have gone with the golf clubs.

Why?

He left after I sprayed it on him.

Said something about finding his true love.

Interesting.

Where'd you buy it?

A small boutique on the Upper East Side.

[horns honking]

[music playing]

Possession.

Only from Natalie Valentine.

[groans]

That gave me the heebie jeebies.

Yes, the promo is cheap and bogus, but successful.

In one week, I sold 1,000 bottles.

Natalie Valentine is a marketing genius.

Go, Nat.

I'll buy a bottle.

Sorry.

We're sold out.

With Valentine's Day coming, it flew off the shelves.

What about that bottle?

Oh.

It's It's a return.

I don't care if it's missing a squirt.

Look, I'm doing you a favor.

You're too young to get your hearts broken.

The product is a total flop.

Flop?

You sold 1,000 bottles.

And now I have 1,000 unhappy customers-- myself included.

GIRLS: Whoa.

Yes.

After I gave a bottle to my fiance, he just vanished.

Trust me, you're better off without it.

Sounds like men don't just hate the stuff,

they run from it.

Good to know.

Huh?

Keep that stuff away from me, or I'll

never get a date for the dance.

SAM: We should check out the manufacturer.

There's a bar code on the back of the bottle.

I'll use my scanner watch to trace it.

I'll send a few drops of the guy

repellent to Jerry for analysis.

You go, girls.

I'll just step over here and check my makeup.

[music playing]

David, want to go to the dance together?

Big kisses, Clover.

[electronic beeping]

Hmm.

Did you get the location?

Looks like we're off to Paris, girls.

[grunting]

What is that smell?

It's coming from down there.

What is this, a stink convention?

Hold your noses, girls.

We're going in.

[sighing]

My true love doesn't accept visitors.

Hey.

You're Rose's hus--

[gasping]

[giggling]

Bonjour, monsieur.

Nice cologne.

Is this where we can get a bottle?

No women allowed, except my true love.

Leave this to me.

[giggling]

No one enters but the true love.

[scoffing]

OK.

What just happened?

The hair flip and smile always works.

This is the weirdest case ever.

Then it calls for drastic measures.

This might be a little too drastic, Sammy.

Come on, Alex.

Try to be a man about it.

About

Thanks, dudes.

Hey, we're pretty good at this.

If we can't get dates to the dance,

we could always go with ourselves.

[gasping]

From bottles to barrels?

That's quite a marketing shift.

Huh?

Hey.

Anyone getting rained on besides me?

[sniffing]

It's not rain, Alex.

It's cologne.

Something's not right here.

Why would someone mist cologne?

I don't know.

But someone should tell them less is more.

Girls [clears throat] Guys.

Look at that. - Huh?

SAM: Good eye, Alex.

Maybe that lab will tell us something.

Let's slide down and check it out.

[music playing]

Possessor Perspirator?

That sounds incredibly weird.

I'm calling Jerry.

Maybe he's gotten the cologne analysis back.

Good idea.

Alex and I will check out the Perspirator.

SAM: That's odd.

He's not there.

I'm going to try one more time.

Hi, David.

This is Sam.

I guess you've already left work.

Um, anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to go to the Sadie

Hawkins dance with me.

Give me a call.

So, no clue.

It far exceeds bizzarro.

Talk to Jerr?

Nope.

He's still not there.

That's weird.

Ooh.

Maybe he's on a date.

[laughing]

[gasping]

MEN: Our true love.

That's Natalie Valentine.

Oh no.

Here comes the heebie jeebies again.

MEN: Our true love.

Quick, she's heading our way.

MEN: Our true love.

Our true love.

Our true love.

Our true love.

[music playing]

You've got to be kidding.

Gross.

Doesn't she know that faux tanning

is so not good for the skin.

She's not tanning.

She's putting her sweat into the cologne.

So, it's her own sweat that keeps these guys possessed?

Uh.

That's genius.

Oh.

I mean, [scoffs] that's sick.

As if.

Oops.

What did you say?

I said you're my one true love.

Ow!

Ow.

Devotees.

Get them.

[screaming]

Quick, jump on.

[groaning]

[giggling]

Hmm?

[distressed cries]

[shouting]

[shouting] GIRLS: Whoa!

[gasping]

Pull up, Clover.

Pull up.

[shouting]

[groaning]

Uh, wipe-out.

[chuckling]

Prepare them for the vat.

[whimpering]

[liquid gurgling]

Um.

Couldn't we at least talk about this?

What's to talk about?

I loathe girls like you, 16-year-old popularity queens

with scores of boys chasing after them.

OK.

It isn't scores, Natalie, just dozens.

Oh, with the exception of David.

We're chasing after him.

Unlike you three, my teen years were rotten.

But look at you now.

You're pretty, intelligent, a little crazy.

But that's nothing some therapy couldn't cure.

New York City was just the beginning.

Now that I know my cologne works,

I'm going to spray the entire male population with my scent.

And I'll never worry about rejection again.

[laughs maniacally]

It's time for your demise, spies.

Elimination by drowning.

[gasping]

It's Jerry.

We're saved.

Must find true love.

[gasping]

My true love.

Oh no.

He must have sniffed the sample we sent him.

Wow.

We are in trouble if Jerry can't even resist her.

Oh.

[smooching]

Lower the cage.

It's show time.

As you wish.

No, Jerr.

Don't do it.

I promise I'll never give you dating advice again.

Although obviously you could still use some.

Good luck, spies.

Uh.

Girls?

Any thoughts here?

SAM: Our gadgets.

We still have our gadgets.

OK.

Unless you have a snorkel in there, we're spy stew.

[shouting]

[grunting]

That was pure genius, Sammy.

Yeah.

One demented diva is no match for three dynamic spies.

Clover, that's it.

What's it?

We'll make our own cologne to combat NV's spell.

[music playing]

OK.

Can we open a window?

I'm having a heat stroke.

I thought that was the point.

Grab a cologne and run for the jet.

You three, stop.

Stop.

No trespassing.

[groans]

My true loves.

Look, our first groupie.

Can we take him with?

Depends.

Can you fly a plane, Hank?

[music playing]

[thoughtful vocalization]

OK, spies.

We'll each take over one of NV's planes, and then go after her.

Not without a parachute.

No way.

SAM AND CLOVER: Way.

[screaming]

Stop right there, or I'll spray.

[distressed cries]

MEN: My true love.

Aw, you're sweet, but not exactly my type.

My true love.

Your wish is my command.

Oh.

How about a quick mani-pedi and some of those cute

packs of honey roasted peanuts?

OK, girls.

Phase one, complete.

Time to shut down the diva.

[music playing]

This isn't the plan.

What's happening?

We're having our first date, darling.

I was hoping for dinner and a film.

But--

Look, if you keep those little menaces from stopping me,

forget the first date--

I'll marry you.

I always knew Jerry had a big heart.

For a guy who didn't have time for women,

he sure is wrapped around her finger.

Sorry, Jerr.

But it's for your own good.

[gasps]

[groans]

[screaming]

Whoa.

Close call.

You have to admit, Jerr knows how to take care of a woman.

Who knew he had it in him?

Now what do we do?

Speed up.

Love can't be rushed, my dear.

But for you, anything.

[frightened gasping]

[distressed cries]

Time for a quick makeover, girls.

CLOVER: Finally, a cover-up that actually works.

SAM: A little dollop of this hair gel does go a long way.

What?

[shouting]

[distress siren blaring]

Do something.

I have no control of anything, especially

my deep love for you.

[groans] My aching head.

Darling?

I'm sorry, madam.

This relationship has been grounded.

I prefer to fly solo.

Yay.

We have our Jerry back.

But I just wanted to be loved.

You girls are lucky to have boys love you.

It's more than luck.

[gasping]

It's the hair flip and smile.

No boy in his right mind can resist it.

Ugh.

Why didn't I think of that?

Thank you for saving me, spies.

SAM AND CLOVER: No sweat.

You did not just say that.

[bell ringing]

Well, girls, um, now that the mission's over,

there's something I need to confess.

Me, too.

Me, three.

GIRLS: I asked David to the dance.

[quizzical vocalizations] Oh.

Oh. This is horrible.

I mean, what kind of friends are we?

The kind that get a little possessive.

OK.

Let's not be so hard on ourselves.

I mean, he is a hottie.

Hey.

Maybe David would be up to going with all three of us.

Good idea.

Let's ask him.

[excited shrieking]

So, David, the three of us were wondering,

you know, if you didn't already have a date

for the Sadie Hawkins dance--

Sorry.

Mandy asked me three days ago.

GIRLS: Mandy?

[groaning]

A little of our exclusive cologne could change that.

It's not worth it.

Agreed.

Even if he does rank a 15 on a scale of 1 to 10.

[sighs]

Glad that's over.

Hmm?

But we still have one more case to solve.

Who are we going to take to the dance on such short notice?

[groaning]

[gasping]

CLOVER: Come on, Jerry.

You'll have a good time.

I'm sorry, spies.

But a high school dance is not on my agenda.

[contemplative vocalizing]

Huh?

Sorry, Jerry.

This is for your own good.

JERRY: Whoa!

[theme music]