Original subtitles

And that is why the Industrial Revolution

is incredibly significant to American and global history.

So, I've decided to make your big end of the year project...

I'm so bored.

-...which will be worth sixty percent of your grade... - Oh my gosh. Me too.

a slide show on the Industrial Revolution.

- Everyone will have one month to turn it in. - Are you picking up any of this?

His voice is so boring,

it goes in one ear and right out the other.

I think he's saying we have some big project due in a month or something?

I don't know. I am very checked out.

And since the Industrial Revolution

was a period of great collaboration,

this will be a partner project.

No, you cannot choose your own partners.

I will be using this raffle drum

to make sure that your partnerships are totally random.

- Yes? - Whoa, raffle drum? Is this a partner project?

I just said that.

Ooh!

Yes?

Can we choose our own partners?

No. I just said that, too.

Aw.

Hannah and Danya...

Oh man. We gotta get paired up.

It's highly doubtful, Gabby.

- The raffle drum is a cruel mistress. Hunter and Adam...

Gabby and...

- Wesley.

We're partners on a project!

Sorry. We just

really love the Industrial Revolution.

♪ 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

The Industrial Revolution

isn't gonna know what hit it.

We're, like, the best duo of all time.

Move over, ketchup and mustard!

'Cause when we get together, Wes,

it's beautiful. Magic happens.

No, Gabby. Magic doesn't happen.

We are magic.

We're magic. We are magic!

I've got a little magic trick for you.

- How long have you been there? - Why you lurking on us?

The trick starts with you both having a C

in Mr. Boyle's history class.

Then, abra-cadabra!

You turn in your obviously crummy slide show,

dropping your grade to a fail, and making your summer

disappear.

Um, I'm not sure

I understand the trick?

And who's the magician in this analogy?

Ooh!

And do I get to wear a top hat?

What I'm saying is, as Mr. Boyle's TA,

it's my duty to inform you

that you both have to get a B or higher

in the slide show or you'll both be going to summer school.

I should probably also inform you that

the school doesn't pay for air conditioning off-season,

so it's a little more summer than school.

You know what, Susie?

You're just jealous that Wes and I are gonna totally crush this project

like professional project crushers...

crush projects.

Yeah, what she said!

There is literally zero chance we mess this up.

Zero.

Phew... that was fun!

Yeah, those Volpies sure can slime.

It feels like every day this month

has been some sort of crazy alien adventure.

But for whatever reason, all day I've been thinking

there was something we were forgetting to do?

Did you forget to turn the stove off?

I do that all the time.

My stove is literally on all day.

No. Something...

more important?

Hm.

Mr. Boyle's project!

- How could we forget? - I don't know!

I forget lots of things! I forgot to wear shoes today!

Okay, okay, okay!

We can figure this out. When is it due?

Oh my gosh, Wes. Are you okay?

It's due tomorrow at 8 A.M.

Hey sweetheart, I just wanted to say goodnight and I love you.

Goodnight, Mom. I love you, too.

But just to be sure,

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

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

No, Mom. Like I said, there's not much we can do about it.

I bet soon, he'll get sick of the taste of zucchini and move on.

I bet you're right. Okay, sleep well.

Goodnight, Mom.

Six days of waking up to my zucchini garden looking like this.

At first I thought it was the friendly neighborhood raccoon, Cosmo,

and then I set up a night-vision camera

and caught some pretty incriminating photos.

Oh!

Sweet brisket! He's hideous!

I know.

That's why tonight,

we're catching that squash-noshing creep.

Okay, so we spent the entire month doing awesome alien stuff

instead of our big end-of-the-year project.

It's all good!

Totally all good!

We'll just buckle down, put any alien stuff on pause,

and crank out an epic slide show

that sums up the entirety of the Industrial Revolution in one night!

Exactly. Because when you and I are together, we're magic, baby.

Uh, yeah, we are.

So we gathered everything necessary

to get in the zone for the project.

Goji berries for energy.

Essential oils for concentration.

And a custom-made Gabby D

"Get in the Zone" playlist on compact disc.

And I'm not worried either, 'cause I've got my special

little magic-maker to help make magic happen!

Uh, what is that?

This is Big Bertha.

And I know what you're thinkin'.

She's past her prime. Washed up.

But let me tell you,

I have done every school project

on Big Bertha here since 2nd grade,

so if you're gonna tell me that we can't--

It's fine. If you wanna use your old computer, we'll use it.

Let's just get started. We're wasting time!

Time to get in the zone and make some magic happen.

We did it, Wes. The perfect project.

The font. The transitions.

The fact that we crammed 80 years into 15 minutes

of a killer slide show.

It's perfect!

Oof!

But my gosh, it stinks like Goji sweats in here!

Ooh! Good idea.

Bertha could use a little cool down after that spicy work sesh.

You know what, Gabby?

It was inevitable we would crank out a perfect project.

And you know why?

We're magic! We're magic!

- Bertha! - Oh!

Hands-- too oily!

She... looks alright?

Yeah. She actually does.

Noooooo!

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,

and the computer we did it on was soaked to death.

Come on, baby. Pull through.

She's not dead, Gabby!

She's just resting her eyes!

Well, unless you have some genius plan to un-rest her eyes,

we're dead!

I have a plan. But it is not a genius one.

It's a desperate one.

- I have a guy. - A guy?

Gilbert Finklestonsky. Best computer guy in town.

He's fixed Bertha before. But I have to warn you,

Gilbert is by far the most annoying human being you will ever meet.

Yeah, I can't fix her, my dude.

She's got water damage up the wazoo! What'd you guys do?

Chuck her in a wood barrel, and then toss said wood barrel

over Niagara Falls?

Just-- you're not supposed to do that, ya know?

Not with PCs, MP3 players, really anything powered by electronics.

We know you're not supposed to toss a computer

over a waterfall, Gil.

So you really don't have any advice on how to fix Bertha?

You want my advice?

Put her down. She's dunzo.

- Dead! - That's enough, Gilbert.

You've been... helpful.

Wow, you weren't kidding.

That guy is almost as annoying as--

Susie?

Well, if it isn't the magic morons of Havensburg.

What are you guys doing out so late?

You screw up your project in some larky way

and have to come here to fix it?

How did you know--

Absolutely not! What?!

Are you some kind of project police now?

What are you doing here?

I'm here because of a legitimate crisis.

Pesto, my pet ferret, has been missing for over a week.

I'm pinning up lost flyers around town.

Ummm, hello? My dudes?

If you're not using my services,

I'm gonna bounce.

Sorry again I couldn't fix your computer with your

very important project about the Industrial Revolution on it.

Well then. I don't wanna hold you guys up.

Hope you can work out some magic to save your big project,

or it's piping hot summer school for the both of you.

Abra-ca-bye-bye.

Get ready for snack time, varmint.

Principal, can I get real with you?

I know you and Gabby usually bond over these sorts of "adventures,"

but tonight is about

catching that pesky veggie-eating creep.

- Of course. I-- - Let me finish.

So, I don't want any "cutesy connections" between us.

No big moral takeaways. None of it.

Olivia. Would you do me a favor

and a look inside of that duffel bag?

- Whoa! - Now, do those look like

the types of things one would bring with them

if they were looking to engage in some sort of

"cutesy connection"?

Didn't think so.

So, let me be clear.

I am here for one reason

Zoodles. That's it.

Delightful, curly, fat-free noodles made from zucchini.

Zoodles. It's guilt-free pasta.

Guilt. Free. Pasta. I love it.

And you and I have had a good thing going lately.

You make the zucchini. I eat the zucchini.

It's a nice arrangement.

But something's gotten in the way

of that arrangement as of late.

- There he is! - Not on my watch!

For Zoodles!

Ow! Owie! My foot!

I'll get him!

Ahh!

My glasses!

Oh, I won't miss you twice,

you summer squash ruining rapscallion!

And I'm falling.

Did you just break my glasses?!

Yes, I broke your glasses! I'll buy you new glasses.

Now grab that stick of dynamite

and chuck it at that rodent terrorist!

Ahhh! Alien pepper spray!

- No!

No!

I can't see! What's happening?!

The enemy has entered your home.

Yup. I can definitely fix this ancient hunk of tech.

Just gotta pop her open and extract the hard drive.

Yes! Blurt, you beautiful Blorg!

- It is getting very late and we really need it-- - But I won't.

Wait. What?

Why? Why?!

For personal reasons that are personal to me.

Anywho, let me know if you need any help.

Not with the computer, of course,

because I've already made it abundantly clear

that's a no-go for 'ole Dirty Blurty.

What?

I guess it's the end of road for you and I.

I know people always called you an ancient hunk of tech, but...

I could always see the youthful light in your eyes.

I'll always love you, BB.

What did you just say?

I'll always love you, BB.

"BB"? What is that?

Why did you just call your computer that?

BB. That's her name. Big Bertha, BB.

I loved a BB once...

Its name was Breakfast Bot.

We did everything together.

And by everything, I mean it made me breakfast.

But my morning meals weren't the only thing it made.

It also made its way into my cold Blorgian heart.

Then one day,

the worst day of my entire stupid life,

a Belgian Crepe got jammed in BB's waffle carriage.

I did everything I could.

But I was too late.

BB!

From that day on, I promised I'd never do open-bot surgery again.

Just makes me think of breakfast.

Wow. I'm so sorry for your loss.

So yeah, that's why I can't operate on your

old hunk-a-junk computer.

This, this is your opportunity

to make it right.

For BB. Your BB.

I'll do it.

We need to be quiet.

My mom cannot catch us down here like this!

Yes, I am very aware of that, Olivia.

Now, just follow my directions

and this Zoodle-ruining wiener-rat

will be netted in no time.

Ooh. Whoa. Now, step forward.

That's good. A little more forward.

Yes. Yes.

- Stop!

Shhh! You're perfect.

Now, lift the net

and when I say, "Zoodles," you bring the hammer down.

One...

two...

Zoodles!

- I did it!

Huzzah! Fresh Zoodles, here we come!

Olivia?

My mom's awake.

What is going on down here? It is 3:00 in the morning.

Uhh, we--

I mean,

I was just having a midnight snack...

which I put on the floor for some reason.

But, wouldn't you know it,

I'm actually not hungry anymore

so I guess I'll put these back in the fridge.

Well if you're not gonna eat these Zoodles, then I am.

I mean, it's guilt-free pasta, after all.

Now why don't you go get some sleep, honey?

Your eyes are crazy red.

My Mom is eating Swift as Zoodles.

My Mom is eating Swift as Zoodles!

Kalaxian Scalpel.

Rectranial Tongs.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Blorgian Shvitz!

I don't know what that is.

I'm sweating, can you help me out?

Yeah, there you go.

What's going on? This is taking too long!

I need your friend to calm down.

Wes, I got this.

- And I got it!

Blurt, you're a miracle worker!

Our project is saved!

Yeah, boy! And we are not going to summer school.

Magic, baby!

We're magic. We're magic.

We're here for Blurt!

Couldn't you have just come through the front door?!

You owe us a lot of money.

You and that weird disc in your hand

are coming with us!

No, no, no!

Are you serious?!

Alright, Wes. You ready?

I think I am.

Can we just run through the plan again?

We use these Blorgian jet packs we found in

Blurt's storage closet to shoot ourselves into outer space,

find the space marauders who stole Big Bertha's hard drive,

and get our project back within the next hour before we have to turn it in.

And we should probably get Blurt back, too, since he was kidnapped, right?

Yeah, yeah. Of course. We'll get Blurt.

But mostly, we're going to get our project

because I am not going to summer school.

I can't learn without AC.

We're comin' for ya, Bertha!

Okay. Let's do this.

Magic!

Whoa! Ahhh!

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

Maybe it's time we admit we're not magic...

we're tragic.

Ugh. You're still up?

Did the Zoodles not sit right with you either?

I'm going back to bed.

You should get some rest, too.

Ah.

I am never

eating Zoodles again.

The ferret can have my garden. I don't care anymore.

Well then, Olivia. Goodnight.

Or good morning. Or whatever time it is.

Hey, Principal Swift?

Thank you for your help tonight.

Well, I know we said no "cutesy connections" tonight, but can I--

Ahhh!

Oh, Georgie, Georgie-- Oop.

Okay, Mr. Boyle, first and foremost, we wanted to apologize.

Sincerest apologies.

We literally made the best

Industrial Revolution slide show of all time!

The font choice alone would have impressed you!

But in a completely wild turn of events,

that project was taken from us,

like, two hours ago, and--

Stop, stop, stop.

Look, if this is about you two turning in a different project

than the one I received in my inbox this morning,

the answer is no.

I will be grading you on the file I received ten minutes ago.

Now, if you don't mind giving me the last few minutes

of personal freedom I have before I am forced to teach

unappreciative "tweeny-boppers"

for the next eight hours of my day.

Go on now.

Go!

We didn't turn in any file.

What is Mr. Boyle talking about?

I have no idea.

Maybe this is all some sort of crazy hallucination

because we haven't slept?

What is even happening?

Guess you'll never really know, huh?

Blurt, what are you doing here?

Or maybe you two crazy kids gave this cold-hearted Blorg

the courage to escape violent intergalactic debtor's prison

because you reminded him of a long-forgotten love with a robot

capable of making frittatas.

Wait, what?

It inspired me.

You...

inspire me.

Never stop being you, okay?

The both of ya.

Wait. So Blurt got kidnapped,

escaped, flew back from outer space,

fixed Bertha, and turned our project in to Mr. Boyle

moments before it was due?

How is that possible?

Magic, baby. Magic.

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

I want to go to human school.

My answer is no.

We've been dating for a while now

and I think it's time we kissed.

Each other?

There's a new student starting today

and I would like for you to show him around.

- Leo. - I'm Gabby.

Will you go to Star Night with me?

Yes!

That sounds great.

Gabby Duran,

you cannot go to Star Night with that boy.

Gorgeous.