Original subtitles

Dra-cola, the soda that bites back.

Marjorie, fetch my glasses for me.

I think I left them on the nightstand next to the bed.

Reports just in that unemployment across the globe

has more than quadrupled in the last three months, which

gives you all more time to relax and enjoy your hobbies.

Meanwhile, several governments today

launched an exciting scheme aimed at hungry,

jobless graduates.

Under this new directive,

millions of overqualified

unemployed will be given

the golden opportunity to trade

their useless degrees for very useful food stamps.

On a more important topic,

rich people.

And we have some fabulous, filthy-rich people

to parade in front of you hopeless bums.

Prepare to meet the world's wealthiest kids.

First up, we have tech-queen teen Avatara Lovett.

This social-media mogul is the precious only child

of Greg Lovett, who you will simply know

as the man who owns the Internet.

O.M.G.!

This is so boring!

# soboring.

It must be a wonderful feeling

to have so many fans and followers.

Um, yeah, I guess.

Whatevs.

# more followers than any other human

being on the planet. With?

Uh, this guy is wearing default clothes.

Like, I Can't even. Mad lolz at this noob.

I'm sorry, I didn't quite...

did I stutter?

- Isn't she adorable? - Hmm.

Next up, we've got one larger-than-life character,

Bobby Fitmoore,

son of Maxifit's leading lady, Maxine Fitmoore.

Not only is this kid massively wealthy,

but he's massively... Massive.

He surely is, Mary.

He surely is.

Now, let's see what this lovable chubster has to say.

Yeah, you know,

the best part about being filthy-rich

is all this right here.

I mean,

what'd you do today?

You got up. You put on some makeup.

You got the camera crew together.

I ate.

I woke up to my alarm, sitting on my alarm, doughnut.

Eat right away. You got to get

the blood flowing. You know what I'm saying?

I think it all goes back to my childhood.

There was this one time... I'm sorry.

This is difficult for me.

I was 7,

and my mom left the house for 30 minutes,

and there was no food in the fridge or in the cupboard

except salad!

So I, um...

I turned to, uh, our golden retriever, Emmanuel.

I don't really want to talk about that anymore.

It must be difficult, though,

to belong to a family renown for fitness.

I mean, yeah, it's kind of tough,

but... but I think I eat a pretty balanced diet.

I mean, I eat 50% savory snacks and 50% sweets, so, you know,

you do the math, honey buns. You know what I'm saying?

Isn't that incredible, Barry?

Now, who have we got next?

This young lady is a role model to girls everywhere.

- Hmm. - Prepare to fall in love

with well-to-do teen candy chance.

Um, currently, I hold 376 titles,

including 51 state titles,

miss Nicaragua, miss natural beauty, miss plastic

surgery, and Mr. universe.

Isn't that for male bodybuilders?

I'm a winner. Winning is what I do.

And aren't there only 50 states?

How did you... you know,

instead of asking me all these stupid questions,

you should really be asking yourself if that's the

correct nose for your face.

I'll leave you daddy's card.

You're welcome.

What a doll.

I think we can all learn something

from this young woman's competitive spirit.

That's right, Barry.

If You're not a winner, You're a loser.

And you know what happens to losers?

They're bullied.

And There's no better bully than this little red-haired rascal.

He's none other than Oliver Gingerfield,

son of the world's only global politician,

the so-called copper lady,

Francine.

Gingerfield.

What? Sorry, what was that?

Um, I missed the... I missed the question.

Hey,

that's a really nice camera.

Can I have a look at it?

- Can I see it? - We need this for work.

Oh, I'm sorry. You need it for what?

Work?

Work?!

Oh, man, that's hilarious.

Work?!

He needs it for work, everybody.

You know, I bet this guy

probably doesn't even like his job, gets paid minimum wage.

Work?! That's hilarious!

Ah, what a cheeky chappie.

Don't you just want to ruffle his spiky, red hair?

Adorable.

Like a feisty, little fox.

Now on to our penultimate posh progeny,

Ms. Molly Sealskin, adoptee of endangered-animal fur tycoon

Cecilia sealskin.

She's in danger?

No! The animals that she gets the furs from.

- Oh! - Endangered...

Thank goodness.

That's all right, then.

You had me worried there for a second, Barry.

- Hmm. - So,

you must feel very lucky to be surrounded by such beautiful

and exotic fashions.

Ms. sealskin?

All set for Halloween with months to spare.

Isn't she something?

Oh, something indeed, Mary.

Now we've got time for one more br...

bright, young heir.

Meet David knight, the world's littlest humanitarian and son

of multi billionaire, international business

baron Damian knight.

David, tell us what it's like to be one

of the world's richest kids.

You can have anything you want, right?

Um, well, yeah.

I mean, I-I suppose so.

But, I mean, I don't really need a lot of things.

I-I just like to help people.

Okay.

You don't want the latest computer, the coolest clothes?

Uh, I mean, nah.

I-I really have everything I need.

Uh, I'm really lucky in that sense.

You know, there are a lot of kids in the world

that aren't as lucky as I am.

You know, they're... they're poor.

They don't have everything they need.

Um, actually, uh, while You're here, I'd love to discuss...

wasn't that a treat? Mm!

I just love rich people. Don't you, Barry?

Oh, you betcha.

Now, who do you think our viewers will love the most?

Oh, gee whiz.

That's a tough one, Barry.

They're all so lovable.

I know, right? So how about you tell us

who your favorite filthy-rich kid is?

Just go to our website and vote your little hearts out.

One lucky viewer will win a year's supply of dra-cola,

the soda that bites back.

And speaking of vampires, later in the show,

we'll be reporting on recent revelations

made by the bureau of

cryptozoology that reports of monsters being in the world

are real.

Ooh!

More on that terrifying topic right after the break.

And We're at break.

- Back in 30 seconds. - Phew!

Monsters my hairy aunt!

Look, I'm a serious journalist.

I Can't take this anymore.

So do us all a favor and quit.

Oh, bite me.

Eat my boogers, Barry.

Oh, You're cooking again?

5, 4, 3, 2...

According to a study

undertaken by leading scientists...

Barry, is your dandruff flaring up again?

Shut up!

Oh, dear.

I did not see that coming.

What a waste.

- Such a tragedy. - I know.

They were both so attractive... And well-groomed.

No, no, no, no, no!

I'm talking about that lousy puff piece

that we paid big bucks for!

It didn't even mention our brands!

It was just garbage!

It's simply garbage!

We wasted our money.

Enough about the news,

huh?

We've come here to talk money.

- Did we not? - Yes, yes, of course.

We have more pressing matters that require our attention.

Oh, well, let's press.

Any new ideas here how to get us filthy-rich?

Let's not skimp on the "filthy."

Let's not skimp on the "rich."

I got nothing right now.

Toxic waste dumps

in the middle of children's playgrounds.

Darlings, darlings!

I have a fabulous idea.

Limited-edition panda fur coats,

super exclusive, super expensive, to die for.

No?

Yeah, yeah. This is good, this is good.

I like it. I'm thinking.

The lifting of the weights...

it helps my brain like...

ooh, I know.

Okay, we only make these coats in extra, extra small.

This way, anyone who wants to wear them,

they have to go to my gym first

to get rid of their disgusting body fat!

And we get a percentage.

And when that doesn't work at your gym

where they lose their fat,

those suckers will be coming to me for my five-minute,

easy-peasy lipo!

Lipo!

Greg, Francine, what do youse bring to the party here?

I will abolish that ridiculous,

antiquated minimum wage

so that we can produce the garments as cheaply as possible

for maximum profit.

And I will get one of the celebrities

that I created to wear the thing and post it on all her networks.

Her followers will go wild for it.

Something I call "wear and share."

"Wear and share." I can feel it.

I'm just... I'm just...

I'm just feeling that...

that... that final 1%!

And it's being funneled right now

into our bulging bank accounts!

To the 100%.

- 100%! - Our 100%.

Well, I'm happy about this.

I mean, look at me, look at me.

I Can't operate with these hands like this.

I Can't work on somebody's face.

I am about at the end of my calipers.

I'm telling you, that daughter of mine, candy,

she is a nightmare.

I mean, talk about a drain on the finances.

Do you know what it's like?

Do you know what it's like to have to bribe every single judge

so that damn brat can win every prize?

Darling,

that's a walk in the park compared to my petite freak.

If I'd known she's grow up to be a goth,

I'd never have adopted her.

A well-groomed Shih Tzu makes a much better accessory.

And even worse than her humiliating lack

of fashion sense,

the little do-gooder keeps releasing my animals.

I cannot have my furs escaping into the night.

You think I have it bad, huh?

I mean, my precious Avatara

is about to bankrupt me with her addiction to no-life.

I created the game so that I could make money,

not for her to spend mine playing it.

And as for her obsession with gaining followers,

it's actually pretty good.

But... but that's...

it's not sustainable. You... you have no idea

how much money I've spent making fake accounts.

And to top it all off... She's a hipster.

You know, Greg,

I'd pick your nerd over my little,

insufferable do-gooder any day,

pal, 'cause it takes one little

runt with a heart of gold... yeah, my gold...

and he siphons my hard-earned dirty money every day into what?

Squeaky-clean charities? Are you kidding me?

Then he goes blabbing to the cops about me?

Do you understand what I own?!

Most of the police in this country right now...

Oh?

I own.

Really?

What?

I got to get shaken down?

I got to shell out now to the entire force?

Do you grasp the implications of this dilemma, what we...

I do.

You are in a pickle.

But at least your son has a bmi...

this is body mass index.

You know what I'm talking about... in the normal range.

He's like normal son, you know?

Bobby... my Bobby... he's an embarrassment.

I said it.

He is a blubbery blot on my good name.

I stand for fitness, not fatness.

My Oliver, in the past month alone,

that vicious, little pest has beaten up six kids,

three adults, countless

small animals, and...

26 priceless inanimate objects.

I'm sorry.

I'm all right.

Between hospital bills, payoffs, and compensation,

I have had to raise taxes by 53% just to maintain my salary.

If this keeps up, I might have to even start taxing the rich.

I'm sorry. What did you say?

- No, no, no, no. - I thought you said rich,

- but that's crazy. - No.

It's a catastrophe!

We got to get it tight, people.

We got to put these puppies to bed.

Obviously,

we have to get rid of every stinking one of them.

But how?

Oh, well, I mean without leaving a trace.

Uh... What's everybody looking to me for?

Hello.

I have a proposal for you that might benefit us all.

I represent an organization

that deals with these sort of problems swiftly, delicately,

and, most importantly, covertly.

Does that appeal to you?

I can help you with those horns.

This is the monster realm,

a dimension to where I was banished to many millennia ago.

It is from here that I control all of earth's monsters,

preparing them for the day

when we return to our rightful

dominion.

But until then, they must obey the rule

of not getting them self exposed to the humans.

Otherwise, they will have to answer to me, the boss.

You know why I summoned you here.

But, boss, it wasn't me.

It wasn't me.

Save your rancid breath.

By being caught in public,

you broke the first rule of the monster realm,

and as such, you must be punished!

I'm melting! Melting!

Melting!

Such a drama queen.

She's melting on my beautiful carpet.

Mr. Hobnoblin, you did a fantastic job

silencing those reporters before they could expose us.

Listen, anything else you need, a little promotion,

I'd love to do it.

Yes, yes?

Aw. Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

Oh! That was ticklish.

Seven new folders for seven new monsters

- for your approval. - Thank you, thank you.

Good, good, good, good, good, good.

Oh, this is good.

Well, that's not good.

This... no, not good.

These...

these are all duds here!

I-I've never seen so many ridiculous...

Hobnoblin's here to see you, sir.

Hobnoblin?! I've already seen the Hobnoblin!

You know, the human...

they don't understand the delicate balance

of maintaining order in the world.

They weakened us.

They hunted us down.

Oh, I-I don't blame them.

No, I-I pity them.

They're fearful creatures who need success to help them.

We are but a fraction of what we once were.

How are we going to fare in today's world?

I mean, most people aren't even afraid of us anymore.

It's a sad state of affairs.

And these seven here, I mean,

how are we going to evaluate them, huh?

I mean, what are they gonna be afraid of?

Nobody's afraid of anything except, well, losing their money

and getting a zit.

I think I have the solution

- for what You're seeking. - You do?

- Yes. - Well, spill it out.

Okay. Six brats...

three boys, three girls.

In other words,

the offspring of six despicable parents

that want them dealt with.

What better fodder for aspiring monsters?

Wait a minute.

You may be on to something here.

Three boys, three girls.

Parents who want to dispose of their children.

I think you've got it!

Yes! Go find the parents, and bring them to me!

Yes, sir. Yeah, done.

Where are we going?

I've been in this car for hours.

I'm bored!

Oliver, stop it.

You are en route to an elite brawling competition.

Have fun.

Are you serious?

Ah, and show no mercy.

Whoo!

Hi, darling.

I've entered you into a new pageant

for only the top 1%,

but you've got this one in the bag, so you just have fun,

- sweetheart. - Thank you, daddy.

I Can't wait to win.

I wonder what the prize is this time.

Hello, princess. I just wanted to invite you

to an exclusive LAN party.

O.M.G., Avatara! You're like the best ever!

- Huh? Hmm? - O.M.G.!

Totes amazeballs, dad.

'Kay, thanks. Bye.

My father's sending me here to make new friends.

I've never been more excited in my life.

You're busy. I get that.

Hello!

You have been selected to take part

in an elite pie-eating contest.

Pie?!

Pie.

What are you wimps waiting for?

Let's go inside.

Hey, open up or we'll kick this door down!

Oh, what, you got something to say, tracksuit?

Oh, karma is my friend.

I hope he's okay.

What is this place?

It smells like... Old people... And cabbage.

And, fyi, the wi-fi sucks,

so we'll have to hook it up old-school.

Is she speaking English?

For the LAN party, meat head.

LAN?!

- Is that a kind of pie?! - Huh?

You know,

for the pie-eating contest.

Ew. Carbs.

Well, I'm here for the pageant contest.

Uh, you mean the brawling tournament.

Hey.

- It's a reform school. - What?!

- What?! - Didn't you see the sign?

You're messing with us, right?

No, no, she's right.

Uh, I saw it, too.

What's the matter, doll face?

You never been to a brat camp before?

I've been to a ton of them.

They're not so bad.

The trick is to get kicked out right before supper,

unless you like eating moldy rat burgers

and mushed-up slugs with extra fingers on the side.

Okay, uh, tbh, I don't plan on sticking around,

so nice to meet you guys and everything,

but...

my Lou Vuittons!

Lou Vui-who?

Shoes.

Hmm.

Now, who would like the whistle-stop tour?

That would be lovely, thank you.

Excellent. Follow me.

Hmm.

Now, this, as you can see, is the art room.

Feel free not to exercise your creative prerogatives.

And this is the dining room, where meals are served.

You don't cook slugs, do you?

Of course not. How silly.

Hmm.

Not until spring, when they're ripe.

Ah!

Pray do not leave grubby fingerprints

upon the freshly waxed mahogany.

No problem.

I'll Polish that up later.

You may choose your rooms as you see fit.

And now for a few house rules.

There will be no sneezing, no snoring, no wheezing,

no whining, no running, no climbing, no screaming, no

shouting, no shake-it-all-abouting,

no swearing, no over-sharing,

no fighting, no biting, and, most

importantly, my little loves, you will not make a mess!

Whosoever soils or sullies

my spotless manor shall reap the most dire of consequences.

What are you gonna do,

tickle us to death with your magic feather duster?

Hmm.

Supper is served at 7:00 P.M. sharp,

following which the night's festivities will commence.

Okay.

Uh, pleasure to meet you.

I'm David.

Pleasure to meet you. David.

David knight.

Enchanté.

Oh!

Now, this is more like it.

Oh!

Oh!

Oh!

Ooh!

A rare vintage.

Supper will be served in 15 minutes!

You and me, soon.

Hey, fatso!

What are you in for?

- Eat all the pies or something. - Yes!

And they were delicious!

And my name is Bobby, not fatso, if you don't mind!

Bobby it is.

Oh!

Old school.

Lame!

Very vintage.

Maroon.

Gold.

What big teeth you have.

Selfie time.

Rawr!

- Thanks. - God!

Don't you know who You're messing with, poor boy?

My name is Bobby Fitmoore,

and I eat punks like you between courses like cheeky,

little palate cleansers.

Yeah, well, I'm Oliver Gingerfield,

unbeatable fighting force,

and I'll give you something tasty all right.

How'd you like that, Booby Fatmoore?!

That'll knock the freckles off your face.

No one hits me in the freckles!

Come on.

I got ya.

Oh!

You made me smudge my lipstick!

And you made me lose the game!

Oh! Ew! Hipster!

I have hipster germs all over me!

Um, okay. And what are you supposed to be?

- Prom clown? - Ha!

- Hey! - Woof.

Lol.

My followers are gonna die when they see this.

# bimbobarbie.

Hmm!

Whoops.

No, no.

Guys, guys.

Uh, gents, take it easy.

No!

Whew!

Making friends sure is tough.

Uh, hey, what happened to the other girl...

uh, the quiet one?

You mean old misery guts?

- She's outside. - All right.

Piggyback ride!

Mommy!

Mind if I join you?

I'm David.

It's a pleasure to meet you.

What's your name?

You're shy.

That's cool.

You're almost out of petals.

Here.

Well, um, I'll get out of your hair.

But you can talk to me any time you feel like it.

Molly.

- Hmm? - Molly sealskin.

That's a lovely name.

I'll see you around, I guess.

Sure.

See you around.

Hmm.

Oh, aren't you just the cutest little kitty?

I think he's cute, too,

but don't tell him I said so.

Yes! For the win!

Ooh. Bio-break time.

No, don't, don't!

Say goodbye to your computer games, nerd.

Deleted.

What is this?!

Whoo!

So you want it?

Mmm! Extra-fudge

chocolate surprise!

Come on!

Aah, my hand!

You cannibal!

My character?

My... my... my real estate?

My expensive wardrobe?!

All my life's work! Uh-oh.

Have you no sense of decorum?

Who do you think is gonna pay for all this?!

Our parents.

Self-entitled,

little rodents!

Clear up this mess immediately or you'll get no supper!

I'll do it myself. Scoot, scoot, scoot!

Feel free.

Aah!

It's so dusty in here.

It needs cleaning.

Oh, it's good to see you all again.

Let me introduce myself properly.

My name is Heinrich,

and I welcome you to our humble realm.

I do hope your experience is gonna be pleasurable here,

but let me warn you that this dimension can be perturbing,

disturbing, and all mortally wounding,

so it'd be wise for you to watch your backside

lest you be annihilated.

Ex-exactly what is this place,

aside from being really pungent?

Uh,

I really apologize.

One of our swamp monsters is cutting the cheese.

He's got some kind of intestinal issues.

But in answer to your question, this is the monster realm.

It's the clandestine sector

that we've been banished to by humanity.

Once, we were a mighty force,

feared and loathed in equal measure,

and in one big destructive move, we were

weakened beyond recognition.

Our leader led us here to preserve our race,

out of reach of those who wanted to destroy us,

and we have retreated into

the shadows ever since.

I like crochet and croquet.

Calms the nerves.

More pressingly, darling,

you simply must get me in touch with your interior designer.

This place is to die for.

Bleak, yet visceral.

Minimalist, yet organic.

J'adore.

Enough with the irrelevant chatter, all right?

We've got business to attend to here, pal.

- Let's go. - Yes,

of course, without further ado.

What?

Paper contracts?

T-this is old school.

And this is in Latin.

Look, I don't have time to pore over this.

Can you just sum it up for us?

It's a standard contract stipulating

the terms of our arrangement as agreed.

By signing it, you acquiesce to the dispatching

of your offspring and the subsequent capturing

of six souls by our

well-trained monsters and our pledge to carry out

the work professionally and, most importantly, invisibly.

Perfect! You get rid of the kids.

You keep the souls. Nobody finds out.

Awesome. I'm sold.

Here we go.

There's mine.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Darling,

that coat is divine.

You know you'd simply look stunning as a high-end shirt.

Pair it with the season's...

Magique.

Excellent.

- You go, girl. - Ah.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, I introduce to you... The boss.

Eh?

Presenting the boss.

I introduce you to...

ha, ha!... The boss.

Yes!

How lovely to see you all.

Welcome to my humble abode.

Are you the parents that want your youngsters dispatched with?

Yes.

How charming.

Still, business is business.

All right. Let's get on with it.

Though in the unlikely event

that the monsters do not succeed,

I... me, Mr. boss...

I will step in and take care of

matters personally.

If you can take care of this yourself,

why not step in now and save all the fuss?

These seven monsters, uh, are actually on probation.

Yes. They're not fully fledged yet.

But if they pass the test, they will be fully-fledged monsters

with all associate benefits... that is, dental care, pension,

paid maternity...

everybody wins, right?

Right.

So, let us start the show.

Oof.

So not share-worthy.

These are really good.

Even better than the ones my chef makes.

I'm gonna be a chef when I grow up,

michelin-starred.

You'll eat all the food before it gets on the plate.

Exactly. It's perfect.

What are you gonna be? A brain surgeon?

Ha, ha.

I'm gonna be a supermodel, of course.

Soon, I'll have won every pageant title there is,

so modeling's the natural choice.

Daddy's gonna give me the perfect model body

for my 18th birthday.

However will he gift-wrap it?

He's a cosmetic surgeon, stupid, the best there is.

Maybe you should give him a call.

What? I love the way I look...

big and round,

like the world's largest buffet roll.

O.M.G.

# stuffbobbysays!

Totes me material.

Can you tag me in that?

Yeah. What's your username?

@fatso115115.

Done.

Get a room!

The geeks like each other.

What's the matter, awkward goth girl?

You know we can all still see you, right?

Just because you Can't see us does not mean You're invisible.

Um, so, candy, tell me,

what's the most expensive thing your dad's ever gotten you?

Hmm, I don't know.

Daddy's bought me many expensive gifts.

I guess there was this one dress made of like 26,000 diamonds.

Daddy says it's worth more than what 10 normal people

make in their entire lives.

So it must have been good, right?

Right.

Um, that's nothing.

My dad, Greg... I call him Greg...

bought me the largest property in the no-life universe.

The thing's got like 40 bathrooms,

and I throw the biggest parties there.

People come from all over the map.

Ah. Must be fun.

What's the point of owning a virtual home?

That's literally the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

You wouldn't understand, luddite.

Hey, I can read... Comic books,

t-shirts with words on them.

Uh, I can read, okay?!

Pass the Turkey!

Right while it's hot.

Thanks.

Oh? Uh, for what?

Saving me from certain death by mortification.

Where's the gravy?!

- Any time. - Come on, bring it over.

I Can't hear you over Bobby's fat mouth.

You know...

So that's it? That ugly, little bug?

That ugly, little bug,

as you call it, is actually a lethal weapon.

One tiny bite

from her and You're left an excruciating death.

Melissa, you see, is the last of her kind.

Her entire species was wiped out by an asteroid...

a disaster of unthinkable proportions.

Now she has come to earth to spread her seed

and revive her dying breed

before they are all snuffed out forever.

I don't give a toss

about this ugly bug's mating dilemmas, all right?

We've come here for the grisly bits, you know?

- Go for the grisly. - Yeah.

- We want more action. - Yeah.

Mr. knight,

if you will please exercise a little patience,

I'm just getting to that.

First, she will enlarge her razor-sharp pincers,

and, then, she would sink 200 needle-sharp teeth

deep into your skin.

And her eggs...

her eggs are encased in a sort of sticky fluid.

She would inject that into your bloodstream, in your veins.

The eggs can grow and incubate and grow,

and then they would explode out of your body,

leaving you, Mr. knight... how

shall we say? A little disconcerted.

You know, there was this one kid in high school...

Keep it coming.

Anybody not hungry?

- Give me some of that. - School

- is an important... - I'm good.

And this... look at that.

You can feel it. Feel it.

You think I'm interested in you?

Hmm?

Get a life!

What are you talking about?

Creep.

It'd probably be boring anyway, right?

- Oh! - Oh, yeah!

Butler!

You rang?

What kind of lobster is this?

It's fantastic.

I-it's, uh, welsh sleeping lobster.

Very rare and extremely difficult to catch.

You like it?

No, I love it. It's so succulent.

I must get mother to buy more of these when I get home.

Thank you.

Oh, my God!

No, no!

Well, that didn't exactly go to plan, now, did it?

So much for your exploding space prawn.

I've seen more ferocious koala bears.

Hell, I'm wearing one right now.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

Yes, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

My gluttonous son, my big Bobby,

he make quick work of your monster, yeah?

I hope next time, you have more effective adversaries

for this little bug.

Right, well, that was, all right,

a little blip on the night.

But the evening has just started,

and I promise you,

it's gonna be an evening of madness and mayhem!

Master, I suppose you could say that Melissa

was an entrée, literally.

Oh.

Well, Mr. boss, the next time

you throw a "monster" into the ring,

you'd better make sure it's big enough that fat

boy Can't chow down on it now.

Very well, Mr. "hair."

Have faith, chaps.

Sit back, relax.

I'm gonna show you some fun tonight, hmm?

Yeah.

Oh, my goodness.

I've never seen so many calories in one place

in my entire life.

How can you put that junk in your body?

Says the silicone princess.

My kind of woman.

Perfect.

So, when will the main course be served?

Oh, Bobby, you are a caution.

Now, children, why don't you go

and get ready for the big surprise?

Is it a pony?

Because if it is, I'm not interested.

Daddy's already bought me one in every color.

Candy, it's a surprise.

I Can't tell you what it is.

It would spoil it.

Off you part now, children.

No, no, no! It's fine, it's fine, it's fine!

Cute cat picture wearing a bow tie.

Bam.

Thousand new followers.

I win.

Perfect.

Hello again.

Infiltrating camp.

Scanning for organics.

Disrupting communication.

Shut up!

You know, this sucks!

I was streaming this really cheesy '80s sitcom, you know,

like, in a really ironic way,

and I got cut off at the cheesiest part!

Seriously, you guys, I'm scared.

How do I know if my makeup's okay if I Can't see it?

Look out behind you!

Oh, dear candy, There's nothing to fear but fear itself.

Well, I don't know, Bobby.

If I were you, I'd fear heart disease and type 2 diabetes.

Nice one!

You know, I think I'm starting to like you, doll face.

- Oh, goody. - No, it's okay, guys.

I mean, we can get through this, right?

We just have to stick together.

Uh, with the power of friendship on our side...

okay, enough of that riffraff! We need to split up.

Uh, David and,

um... The silent one will illuminate the candles.

Uh, candy and Oliver, you guys can locate the Butler.

And Avatara and I will seek out the fuse box.

Okay, great. Team, on three.

1, 2, 3.

Team.

Oh, boy.

Mission accomplished.

Roger began his days in a mysterious hall

of an underground science lab,

where he was but a humble coffee

machine.

All too soon, he found himself outclassed,

a relic left to rot, obsolete, unwanted,

forgotten, until one stormy night.

And thus, our terrorizing tin can of pure robot rage was born.

That...

it's a pile of ugly scrap metal.

- I'll believe it when I see it. - Don't worry.

We've got plenty more to show you.

Hey, jeeves!

Jeevesy, boy!

Where is he?!

I just don't understand how electricity can just stop.

Isn't it, like, all around us?

Did you even go to school?

I mean, how many fingers am I holding up?

- Wrong answer. - Of course.

Beauty school.

What about you?

Uh, I've been to a lot of schools.

- Odd. - How do you mean?

Why did your parents say they sent you here?

Cecilia didn't say.

She just told me to get in the car or else.

My dad told me that I was coming here to make new friends.

I, um... Don't really have any.

I'm your friend.

I don't know.

I just... I have a... Weird feeling about all this.

Me too, but I have bad feelings about everything.

Yeah.

Uh, I'm probably just being silly.

I over think things.

Yeah, I-I get that.

But, you know, we can just stay together

and keep our eyes peeled, just in case You're right.

Deal.

Okay.

Fuse box, fuse box.

Oh, uh... Let's see. Okay.

A lot of stairs.

Huh.

Ah! Ta-da!

Whoa.

That wasn't there before. You know what?

I think this is the Butler's surprise

he was talking about earlier.

I wonder what it does.

Wow. It's super-retro, too. Oh!

Ah!

Oh, my gosh. You guys, come check this out!

It makes...

it makes coffee, t-the robot.

What's the big deal?

It's a drink. They sell them in stores.

Um, it's a latte.

The robot makes lattes.

Does it make cakes?!

This isn't just any drink, okay?

This is a triple-choc, low-fat, cherry latte

served by a fully functioning retro-1950s robot, okay?

You're not gonna drink that, are you?

I mean, besides the disgusting fat content,

that thing looks like it's been here for years.

Hello! It's probably rancid.

Well, smells good, looks good.

Yolo.

Nice.

Oh, um, um,

uh, do we call a doctor? What do we do?

- Um, I could call daddy. - She's choking.

She needs the heimlich, not a facelift.

Heimlich! How do I... how do I...

if she chokes to death, can I have the latte?

O.M.G.! You guys are so gullible!

Like, I was totally trolling you!

Scared me. It was funny.

- Right? - Yeah.

Thanks. It's, like, so good, you know?

I mean, it's got the cherry and the chocolate.

It's perfect.

I wonder if this is milk chocolate?

It's probably dark chocolate. I like milk chocolate better,

but...

What?

Destroy all hipsters!

Whoa.

How cool!

Hipsters must die!

Where did she go?!

Where's the latte?

That will teach you for abandoning old technology.

Now, that...

that was more like it, Mr. boss!

Children, prepare to die!

You overgrown coffee pot!

That actually worked?

That works, too.

All right, goth girl, Barbie doll, blue shirt,

the fat one, let's scrap this hunk of metal.

Die!

I will eat you apart!

Alas, poor Roger.

May he serve celestial cappuccinos

in vending-machine Valhalla.

Scrappuccino, you mean.

No.

Actually, no, I don't. Hmm.

Beating robots sure makes me hungry.

Oh, thank God You're here.

Um, something terrible has happened.

Uh, we need to alert the authorities or someone.

Oh!

We're gonna need a mop up here.

Sir, are you feeling okay?

Just a mo...

- Not another back story! - No.

This time, it's a bat-story.

You see,

our Butler was struck down with a terrible disease...

a real curse called O.C.D.

O.C.D.?

O.C.D... That's what sets him off?

He was saddened. He was ruined.

So he turned to experimental pharmaceuticals.

That set him on the road to ruin, and of course,

he was helped on that road by a certain Dr. guano.

Dr. guano had developed an anti-compulsive drug derived

from the proteins produced by the amazonian sacked-winged bat.

Suffice to say, it didn't go to plan,

and now his O.C.D.

Manifests itself in an altogether more bestial manner.

Do you expect us to care?

Yeah, you expect us to care about your...

your dumb Butler's sob story?

'Cause You're off, pal.

Yeah.

You're way off.

One mustn't become soft to the trifling,

little emotions of one's staff.

Oh, well, thank you for that gem of insight,

Ms. Gingerfield.

Advice to live by... not!

What did I tell you about making a mess?!

Come on, come on!

If you want to survive, leave traps!

We don't have time!

Man!

What in the name of all that is good and tasty!

Bonjour,

me soup du jour!

Next up, we have monsieur Babette,

who, as you can see,

is a cryptid of the bigfoot variety, otherwise known

as a yeti.

If he bites it,

I call shotgun on that luscious pelt.

Well, he had a family once...

a wife, a mate, a place to call home.

Until one day, Babette discovered the substance

that was to alter the course of his life forever.

Hmm.

Candy!

His love for candy grew into a crippling addiction,

so profound that he was driven to break the bigfoot code

and find work to support his habit!

He became a lumberjack, and at first, he was okay.

He slept all night.

He worked all day.

But when he returned home to his wife...

Shunned by his race,

monsieur Babette left his native French Canadia

to come here to start a new life, a new family.

All right, we know, we know.

Another sob story. I mean,

pardon my lack of sympathy for a downtrodden hair ball,

but could we just cut to the chase, I mean literally.

Sorry if we held you up.

Have you got somewhere to go?

This guy's killing me.

It's bigfoot!

Oh, no, Mon Ami.

I have size 9 only.

Come on! Come on!

Come out, little children.

I have croissants, crepes, and candy.

- What kind?! - Shut up!

Go away, you big freak!

You've got a big, scary ax!

But of course I do!

Our food is strong, like our hearts!

That's why we must use axes to cut it!

Ah, the ax!

It is the proud lumberjack's knife and fork!

Now come out so we can all share those tasty treats!

What do you want from us?

I want to talk.

I thought you wanted to feed us!

Oui, monsieur, we eat, we talk.

Oh, it's very French-Canadian. Nuh-uh!

I've seen enough creepy stuff

to know what's going on around here!

I've had enough! I'm calling my father!

All right, you give me no choice

but to keep knocking!

Why doesn't he just use his ax?

Hey, You're a big, dumb monkey man!

D-don't, don't, don't.

Shh! Don't provoke him.

Huh? What's this?

Huh?

Ooh!

This is, like, totally freaky.

Maybe We're all dreaming.

- Ow! - No.

Maybe this house is haunted.

Maybe we are encroaching on these things' territory

- somehow. - Isn't it obvious?

Our parents sent us here to get rid of us.

Is she still alive?!

Yeah.

That was the... the phone one.

Giant robot monster evaporated.

But why? What did we do to deserve it?

They wouldn't do that.

Oh, yes, they would.

It's the cat. It can talk!

Sorry to interrupt your little group-therapy session,

but I have some troubling news.

Oh, my cat!

Yes, Molly, I can talk.

And it pains me to be the one to break it to you,

but You're right about your parents, too.

The fact of the matter is,

you were sent here to be disposed of!

No, I don't... I don't believe it.

Why would they do that?

No, my... my dad is a good man.

My dad is a great man.

Your dad is a crime lord, and he's sick of you

and your squeaky-clean, goody-two-shoes ways.

You're an embarrassment to his bad name.

Well, I shouldn't be here.

Daddy loves me. He says I'm his finest work.

Have you any idea how many judges daddy dearest

has had to bribe just to shut you up?

Oh, sure, maybe he's proud of his little Barbie doll,

but he's prouder of his bank balance.

Oh, the truth hurts!

Oh, it hurts so much!

Same goes for the rest of you.

A bunch of spoiled brats.

They look at you, and all they see is a drain

on their finances...

dead weight.

So what, I guess You're just here to torment us, then?

- Is that it? - Oh,

it's so much more than that.

Now, which precocious little pest will I kill first, hmm?

Decisions, decisions.

Our fifth antagonist is a product of a love affair

between a rare Japanese demon cat and a common

American tomcat.

During one of his nightly strolls, this tomcat

came across a demonic beauty visiting from Japan.

It was love at first sight.

Their union behind the dumpster

brought forth Daisy the demon cat.

I think you can all agree the result is very special.

Bonsoir,

kitten!

Hi, Babette.

Nice job back there.

Merci!

Perhaps you can reward me with a kiss.

Ow.

Ew.

In your dreams, sasquatch.

You know, I've always been a cat lover.

Abominable snowman.

No, if you don't mind, I have got a job to do.

Stupid, bumbling bigfoot.

Oh! I am starving!

Bobby!

Okay, so, where did we land on the whole chip thing?

Filthy, hairy, nasty, messy monsters.

They're all the same. Hmpf!

Okay.

Come on, come on.

What now?

Believe it or not,

she was once a popular lounge singer and quite a looker, too.

But Rebecca wasn't happy.

Her repertoire had become stale,

and the jazz crowd was unforgiving.

She needed new material!

And she found it in a most unfortunate place.

Her performance of this new material went down a storm...

until, that is,

a slimy mass of tentacles erupted from her

beautiful face.

The unpleasant and permanent result

of an ancient incantation she unwittingly performed.

Nightmare, darling, nightmare.

Even I couldn't fix that hot mess.

You're so superficial.

Do you think a face is everything?

Hey, I'd take that body over that trail

of dead skunks you've been flopping with any day.

Yes, charming.

Look into my eyes

and stare into the well of infinite madness.

Then you shall be ready to descend into eternal darkness!

Ohh!

What are we waiting for?!

- Let's go! - Well, not through here.

What about you?

I've seen... Horrible things.

There's no way out.

What about candy?

Yes, I've got some!

The girl!

- Oh. - Barbie doll?

- Come on! - Barbie doll!

This is gorgeous.

Where did you get it?

Give me

oh, you want this?

An ugly hag like you doesn't deserve such a beautiful piece.

- Give it to me! - It

belongs on my pretty neck.

Give it to me!

With this little beauty, I'll win every pageant fair

and square.

No!

No!

- C-candy! - No!

- Get away from tentacles! - No!

Do not fight the one with the tentacles!

Candy, come on!

Hey! Oh, aah!

Hey, hey, oh!

Oh, poor candy.

I know.

Mmm!

Foie gras tastes like candy.

Congratulations!

I-I must say, I feel like a huge weight's

been lifted off of my chest...

kind of liposuction for the soul!

- Indeed. - You're so bad!

Would you say that squid witch

and hairy scary have passed the test, master?

Or perhaps not yeti?

Not yeti.

Hey, the door.

Quiet.

Up here.

Oh, look out!

Hey, fur ball, let's take a bath.

I hate cats.

Come on.

Mr. beet was once an acclaimed scientist.

His great ambition was to genetically engineer

a unique strain of fruit and vegetables

which would be more appealing to children.

When his initial experiments proved disappointing,

he resorted to more extreme measures.

He thought that perhaps he could transplant a copy

of his own face onto a vegetable...

in this case, a beet!

And that this process would provide

a more satisfactory outcome.

He couldn't have been more wrong.

Beet!

Do you know why they call me Mr. beet?

Because You're a beet?

No.

Because I like to "beat" kids.

Me too... me too.

We should be friends, you and I.

No fighting, right?

Pound it out, Brewski, right on the old knucks.

Oh, man!

Oh, oh!

Really? A beet?

Come on...

here we go.

You messy pup!

I'll teach you, you flake-crunching crumb badger!

Ticky-ticky-ticky-ticky! Suffer!

Aren't beets supposed to be good for you?!

I bet that burned!

Oh, oh!

Aah!

Enough.

Please, please.

All I wanted was for you to be my friend!

Whoo! Right in the seeds!

Nothing?

- Nothing. - Aw, come on.

Just one second, please.

You know what you are, man?

You're just a big, fat bully!

Oh, poor baby.

Come here.

Looks like you need a hug.

You know, We're alike in so many ways.

We both have hard, gross exteriors,

but inside, we have hearts of gold.

I've never even been kissed.

I wasn't popular in school.

No!

Get back. I'll show you a mess.

Now, children, Bobby and I were just playing.

- Isn't that right, Bobby? - No.

- Hai, hai, hai! - Here.

Come on!

Let's get him.

Where's he going?

Not cool!

Mama!

I just put another man on the moon.

Come on.

What now?

Uh, we need to find something we can use.

Good idea.

The batler won't be pleased, making a mess.

You thinking what I'm thinking?

I think so.

Bone-crunching crisps?

Ooh! Monster bites!

Oh LA LA!

Monster bites!

Huh?

Get away from my monster bites!

No, no, no, no.

Uh-oh.

Trick or treat!

Choke on them! Choke on them!

Choke on them! Choke on them!

Well...

That's a relief!

Oh, whoo!

Yeah! Brilliant, brilliant!

Our new recruits are really coming

into their own, aren't they?

A really promising bunch, master.

In fact, you could say...

I'd rather you didn't say anything, Heinrich.

Uh...

Are we ready for the final act?

Hey, bring it out!

Yes.

Time to finish those insufferable love birds.

What was that?

We're trapped.

Well, what do we do now?

Well, it seems like a spell,

which would mean that fish face is probably behind it,

so we should take her down.

Yeah, take her down. Good.

I-I like that.

But how?

I'll have to reflect on that.

Reflect...

Reflect, reflect! Oh, You're a genius!

- I am? - Yes!

All we have to do is get her really mad at us

so she tries to cast a spell on one of us,

like she did to candy, but we'll use

a mirror to reflect the spell back at her.

You're right.

This is great.

I am a genius.

Hey, octopus head.

How'd you get so tentacle-y, huh?

Hey, send one my way instead, huh?

Molly?

Molly, please be okay.

Molly?

Hmm?

All right, Molly. Molly, hey, hey.

Come here. Molly...

I had the weirdest dream.

Yeah, yeah.

Yeah, tell me about it.

Okay, we got to go.

Oh, wait, wait, wait, wait! Get in!

- Good? - Yeah.

Come on, you guys! They're getting away!

No!

And tell your parents

they're not getting their deposit back!

Nice car.

Aller, aller!

- They're right behind us! - Huh?

Hey, children,

guess what We're having for breakfast!

You!

Not if I have anything to say about it! Come on!

Hey!

Ow, ow! No, ow, ow!

No, no, no, no!

Easy, kitty!

No!

Nobody move.

Ah-ah-ah-choo!

No, don't!

No, no.

Ah-ah-ah ah-choo!

Ah-choo!

Killing monsters sure makes me hungry.

Want to go get some ice cream?

Yeah. Let's do it.

Drew breath in my presence!

Do I make myself clear?!

You made a promise, remember?

Yes, yes.

Oh, yes, absolutely, I did.

I promised you that I would deliver six souls.

And now that the evening's entertainments

have sadly come to a close, I will make good on my promise.

I got it, I got it!

You know,

for thousands of years,

I've been hiding in the shadows,

humiliated, weak, forced to

stand by and watch as man grew more malignant by the day.

And, you know, finding six souls the world wouldn't miss... well,

bye!

Bye-bye!

Hey, looks like You're in luck.

You know, our parents are terrible people.

Yeah.

But I like you.

I like you, too.

So it could be worse.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I'm here to announce a change in your normal service.

You see, humanity can no longer function by itself.

It's time for the supernatural to rejoin the natural.

It's time for new management.

You can just call me the boss.

Get a load of that nut.

Marjorie!

Ah...

I...

Beat...

Death.