Original subtitles

♪ Oh, oh, oh, oh♪

♪ Oh my god, don't know what's up♪

♪ But then it hits me every time♪

♪ Feelin' busy suddenly from the minute you walk by♪

♪ At the sight of you the world seems to♪

♪ Turn into a blur♪

♪ How did my fantasy become so real♪

♪ Am I a fool for feeling what I feel♪

'Sup, Swifty? Sorry I missed ya.

Gettin' my blend on.

Gabby, I have grave news.

I don't know how to tell you this...

There's been an incident.

In the vault.

The... vault?

I'm sorry.

- What happened? - Listen to me.

Try to keep a clear head.

Are those my sneakers in there? Huh?

Are those my sneakers in there?!

Murdered! My shoes have been murdered!

No!

♪ Oh, yeah♪

♪ I do normal like a fish rides a bicycle♪

♪ Fit in like summer and an icicle♪

♪ Don't fight it, just be an original♪

♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh♪

♪ I roller skate outside the lines♪

♪ When I try to stay in, it's no surprise♪

♪ It's a fail, it's okay, I'm one of a kind♪

♪ One of a, one of a kind♪

♪ So anytime I feel some type of way♪

♪ Don't understand the human race♪

♪ So what, so what, so what♪

♪ I do my thing, I do my thing♪

♪ You do your thing, You do your thing♪

♪ When we don't fit in♪

♪ We stand out in the crowd and we shout it loud♪

♪ I do my thing, I do my thing♪

♪ I'm the one and only, I'm the one and only♪

♪ Don't try to fit in, Don't try to fit in♪

♪ Mm-hmm, I do my thing♪

Those shoes meant everything to me.

I bought them when I was eight.

The store didn't have them in kids,

so I got an adult size to wear

at my wedding,

or graduation,

or just when I needed to flex

on somebody really hard.

Permission to speak?

Denied.

They were my hope, my future.

The closest thing I have--

had...

to a child of my own.

The worst part of it all?

Never even got a chance to put them on.

I think I speak for everyone when I say

I am so sorry for your loss.

I just wish I'd gotten the chance to meet them.

Nay, the honor.

- I'm sorry. - Sorry for your loss.

Condolences.

Apologies can wait.

Because despite being in a super-secure alien vault,

someone murdered my shoes.

I wanna know who.

Wait, you don't think it was one of us, do you?

You're the only ones with access to the comms room.

- Why shouldn't I? - Oh well now I'm ticked off!

A preposterous idea!

Gabby, you know I'd never betray you.

Everyone else in this room

in a heartbeat. But not you.

Well, somebody's to blame!

I don't have to take this!

My butt is late for a very

important meeting with the toilet.

- I'm outta here. - I, too, am outta here.

If you're really innocent,

wouldn't you wanna stick around

and help your friend get to the bottom of this?

Oh, that is it.

I'm staying! And because I want to,

not because of that thing you just said.

Ditto to that.

Hmpf!

Good.

Now, the vault records show it was last opened at 10 A.M.

This must've been when the crime was committed.

Let's start with the evidence I found at the scene.

This!

What is it?

I think... if I squint

I can...

nope. Lost it.

It's an invisible clue.

Are you actually holding something

or is this like a weird prank?

- Strange time for a prank, Gabby. - Yeah.

It's a fingernail.

And it can only belong to the most nervous nail-biter I know.

Wesley.

Care to explain why your fingernail was in the comms room?

And where exactly you were at 10 A.M. this morning?

It's not what it looks like!

I was in the comms room.

But I did not lay a finger on those shoes.

Let me tell you the whole story.

It all began in 2006,

when I was born.

- Small body. Huge head. Too far back, Wes.

- Let's stick to today. - Got it.

A glorious sunrise awoke me from my slumbers around

6:15 this morning.

Man, my bladder was about to pop off--

Wes? Could you cut to the chase, please?

I basically spent the morning performing my duties as

Senior Executive Liaison around the house.

I crushed it.

First I did a manual update of the comms room software.

Coding a local firewall to a Gor-Monite VPN may be tough for some,

but not for old Code-Man, here.

You've done it again, Code-Man.

Next, I prepped Swift's lunch.

My signature sushi roll.

The freshest fish. Perfect jasmine rice.

Hours of very expensive online sushi tutorials.

You've done it again, Roll-Man.

Then it was on to some heavy lifting.

I just felt the couch was slightly out of position

for the whole living room vibe,

so I moved it with my ox-like strength.

You've done it again, Ox-Man.

Just feels better, right? You can thank the Ox-Man.

Uh-huh.

If all that's true, why were you nervous-biting your nails?

I can't say.

Can't or won't?

Both, I think?

What are you hiding?

Tell me, Ox-Man!

Uhh...

Wes lost a Blurble!

- Gasp!

I know because I was with him.

Is that so? Enlighten us.

Everything he said is true.

It just went a little differently.

As Junior Executive Liaison, I was helping Wes with his...

duties.

Did I move it?

I think it moved.

Later on, I'd just finished dusting the bookshelf when...

I've lost Jeremy Jr.!

I was cleaning out his crate and he ran away!

Help me find it and I will promote you to

Co-Executive Senior Liaison!

No, I'll demote myself. You'll be the boss!

I trusted you!

Somebody hold me back.

Nobody here wants to protect you, bro.

Okay. So maybe I didn't "crush it", exactly.

While Wes melted down on the couch,

I sniffed around for the missing Blurble.

Gotcha!

I convinced the Blurble to come out by challenging it

to a game of chess.

If I won, the Blurble went back in its crate.

But if I lost,

I went in.

I began with the Knight.

Only for the Blurble to match wits with the Queen's Pawn.

Ah, chess. A game of strategy, sure,

-but also-- Enough chess talk!

So, obviously you won...

Actually, no. I'm as shocked as you are.

I couldn't have murdered your shoes because

I was locked in the Blurble crate.

And I couldn't have either because I was panic-crying on the couch.

Feel how wet this is!

Yep, those are Wes tears, all right.

Okay, maybe you two weren't in the comms room at the time of the crime.

But you know who probably was?

The Orb!

And The Orb records everything.

Why didn't I think of this earlier?

Yo, rise and shine--

Gasp!

Murder most foul!

The plot... thickens.

With The Orb dead now, too,

there's only one logical conclusion...

That we should take a bathroom break.

I really have to go!

No! That The Orb knew who murdered my shoes.

And that person murdered The Orb so it couldn't tell.

We're on the trail of a real sicko.

Perhaps, we should consider slowing down and not rush in to--

And she's rushing off.

As a bona fide computer coder,

or if you will, Code-Man,

I'm pretty sure that's not gonna--

Julius?

There you have it.

Julius, the waiter man from Luchachos

with the godly biceps, did it.

Why would he murder my shoes?

Because he clearly hates shoes

and also you never tip.

No offense, but I'm Team Julius on this one.

Huh.

I guess this means "case closed."

Except it's case "wide open"!

Gasp!

I was at Luchachos this morning.

And Julius just happened to be my server.

I know for a fact Julius was working a double shift.

Also let's not forget it couldn't possibly be him

because he doesn't even know about aliens.

The Julius in the video must be someone posing as him.

You two are shape-shifters.

Allegedly.

I want my lawyer.

And neither of you seem surprised to see someone

with no knowledge of aliens

in the alien comms room.

I was totes surprised. Too surprised to speak. Geez.

One of you needs to talk. Now.

I couldn't have shape-shifted into Julius!

Why not?

Because I had already shape-shifted into...

Jeremy Jr.

Gasp!

I had just invented possibly

the greatest invention ever invented.

Imagine a game where two people chase each other

and when one person touches the other person,

the other person becomes the one that needs to chase the first person.

"Chasey Touch."

That game already exists. It's called "Tag."

Anyways...

I was super annoyed that Wes and Olivia didn't want to play with me,

because they were busy with their dumb Liaison duties,

so I morphed into the Blurble so they'd have to.

After making them chase me,

I agreed to play horse checkers,

another game I invented.

After winning, I celebrated by victory-punching the walls.

Something we can all agree is very much my type of thing to do.

Yep.

That's fresh damage, all right.

I can confirm I heard Jeremy punching

when I was in the crate.

Ugh, losing to you

is so much worse than the Blurble.

I heard the punching too.

He couldn't have destroyed the shoes.

See, Gabby?

My hands are clean.

Well... not literally.

Who washes their hands every day?

Okay, well, Jeremy might have a likely alibi,

but there still remains one other noted shape-shifter...

Mr. Shady Shape-shifty Swifty.

We all say that.

Wanna tell me what you were doing before you called me this morning?

Well, if you must know,

I was unwinding from a long week of work,

the only way I know how...

by recording my own sound effects

for my favorite movies.

However, I kept being interrupted...

I should've gone queen-side bishop to C4!

So I went to the comms room for some peace and quiet.

That's when I found your shoes.

You record your own sound effects?

With vegetables?

I just feel more invested in a film

when I put my stamp on it.

Okay, at the time of the crime,

Swift was recording,

Wes was panic crying,

Liv was in the crate, and Jeremy was wall-punching.

If it wasn't one of you, who else is there?

Let's run through everything again.

For sure, can't wait to do that,

but can I please use the bathroom first?

I've literally been holding it since the sunrise.

Make it quick.

From the top, people.

Chop. Chop.

Why can I never remember where the bathroom is in this place?

An unexplained thud?

That's weird.

How's the pee break, pal? You coming?

Be right there, Gabby Duran.

Okay, so we still don't know who might have posed as Julius

or committed the crime. Gah.

It's like the true culprit is right under my nose.

Oh, Wes, you're back.

Oh, yeah. And it is good to be back.

Hey, here's an idea.

What if we close our eyes

and imagine whatever it is that's going on?

Actually, that's a good idea.

Everybody close your eyes and think through everything.

See if there are any details you might've missed.

Wes - crying...

Liv - crate... Jeremy - walls.

Swift... weird person.

Okay, now.

- Hey!

He is not me! He tied me up in the closet.

I am too the real him.

He's lying.

I don't like the look of this one.

Oh, come on!

If you really are who you say you are...

what's your name?

Um...

- Bread? - Get him!

He ran in here. Spread out!

He's a shape-shifter. He could be anywhere.

He's nowhere to be found!

Huh?

Ouch!

Glor-Bron?!

Finally caught me.

Dang it!

Dang it all to planet Hecktron!

Ooh! It's so obvious! We must execute him at once!

Explain yourself.

It all began three months ago,

when I was fired by Supreme Leader

for being "an awful worker"

with a "terrible attitude"

that "stole millions from the Treasury."

Big whoop, right?

Anyway, humiliated on Gor-Monia,

I decided to hide out on Earth.

I hid in secret,

using the power of stealth and shape-shifting.

Ooh! Free lamp!

Ha ha! I'm taking this!

Wee! Ha ha ha!

I scrounged for food wherever I could.

So you're the one that stole my nap-quito!

Execute him at once!

Wheel in the guillotine!

Eventually the food grew scarce.

Desperate,

I decided to shapeshift into a rat

in order to infiltrate the rat kingdom living below the house,

gain their trust,

and then devour them one-by-one.

But alas,

I fell in love.

Anyways, long story short, I'm still very hungry...

and heartbroken.

I'll never quit you, Jenny Pinktail.

Why didn't you just try the fridge?

I couldn't get the stupid door open.

It's a pull door, not a push.

Aw, dang it! Dang it all to Hecktron!

That's why I had everyone close their eyes.

So I could escape and pry the door open.

I - I don't understand.

So why'd you murder my shoes?

Murder? Shoes?

I have no idea what you're talking about.

- Oh, come on! He's clearly lying! - Am not.

Yeah, and he tied me up!

And he stole my taquito.

This guy's a shoe hater, I can tell.

Sir, I am a good many things,

but murderer, I am not--

Ew. Ugh.

Uck.

Whew. Is it just me or is it dusty in here?

It can't be.

I hate to agree with Jeremy,

but Glor-Bron's clearly your man.

Despicable.

Sure. Maybe you're all right

and Glor-Bron did murder my shoes.

I mean, after all,

he is a low-life outcast with no eye for foot fashion.

Have you been talking to the rats?

And you all had excellent, airtight alibis.

That we do. Indeed.

Which means it couldn't have been any of you.

That's what we're saying.

Except, it wasn't any of you...

it was all of you!

- Gasp!

Dust. Olivia claimed to have finished dusting the bookshelves

when Wes lost the Blurble.

But Liv, you're way too much of a perfectionist to leave behind

even the tiniest speck.

Which means your story about dusting must be fake.

Which means Wes' story is fake,

which means Jeremy and Swift's stories are,

you guessed it,

fake as well.

And the only possible explanation is you were

all in on it together.

Why?

I suppose I should explain.

Yeah.

You see, I really was recording my sound effects this morning.

I needed some heavy-duty collision

and the walls in Jeremy's room are pitch perfect.

And next, it was the chase scene.

Unsatisfied with the footfall of gourds,

I developed a habit of using

your shoes to record chase scenes.

They have a warmth of tone that no other shoe could replicate.

Utter perfection.

That's when I saw a mark on the shoes.

I must have scuffed them somehow.

Panicked that I had sullied your precious sneaks,

I called in Jeremy for a little help.

But Jeremy's filthy hands only made the situation worse.

So I summoned my Senior Executive Liaison.

When that backfired enormously,

we had one last option.

Olivia. "The smart one."

We all agreed you'd be so angry with us

for destroying your shoes, you'd never talk to us again.

So, there was only one reasonable option.

Make the scene look like a grisly murder

to throw you off our scent.

No!

That way our friendship,

rooted in trust and honesty,

could continue.

Hm. I'm hearing the irony now as I say it.

Thrilled to be off the hook.

I'm gonna go ahead and get back to hiding and scrounging.

This was fun!

Wait, what about Julius?

Yeah. Sometimes I morph into Big J to play restaurant.

It's quite fun.

I actually morph into Randy,

Luchachos' lesser-known short order cook.

Throw pillow was wet with my very real tears, though.

I was so upset about slaying your shoes,

I just couldn't hold it back.

I am so sorry.

We're all sorry, Gabby.

Incredibly sorrowful.

I'm only sorry that we got caught.

And I guess I'm sorry that we brutally murdered your shoes.

It's okay.

I guess I'll just have to rely on my back-up pair now.

You have a back-up pair?

Next time on "Gabby Duran and The Unsittables"...

You don't plan on staying up all night worrying about

that ferret that's been eating your zucchini garden, right?

Tonight, we're catching that creep.

Ow! Ow!

Mr. Boyle's project!

Okay, so we only have eight hours

to turn in Boyle's big end-of-the-year project,

or we're going to summer school.

No!

You and that weird disc in your hand

are coming with us!

We're coming for you, Bertha!

I don't think we're getting our project back.

Gorgeous.