Original subtitles

Iguana jerky?

- No, thanks. - You sure?

It's a rare

- and cantankerous delicacy. - I'm good.

Well, I got plenty of different varieties

in my billfold, if that's what

floats your apple. Let's see.

Ostrich, cicada, I got dolphin,

albino dolphin, porpoise,

albino porpoise, tarantula, Bunnicula,

- fuckin' emu. - I'm fine, thank you.

Suit yourself, Saltine. More for me.

Oop, that one's not cured all the way through.

That's good luck, though.

And now back to this week's Arky Rankings.

Ooh, turn it up.

Coming in at number one: Zane Troy,

fresh off his triumphant hire

by Quail Eegan.

I don't have a son, but if I did,

I'd throw him away and make Zane my son.

And I would go along with that, no matter the emotional fallout.

One person not appearing on the Arky Rankings:

Rip Digman. Just thought I'd mention that.

Moving on to our next story:

Santa Claus has announced

that he will be participating

in No Nut November.

Well, pickle shit.

Oh, don't worry, Rip, he'll blow a load in December.

Not that, the Arky Rankings.

12 years ago, I was number one,

and now I can't even crack 'em.

You know, you'll never make the rankings

if you keep passing on every job that comes in.

Well, the only job offers I'm getting

are from little rinky-dink museums.

New job offer just came in, Rip.

Let me guess, some rinky-dink museum?

Yeah, it's rinky and, from what I can tell,

dinky, too. You want me to pass?

Rip, before you say no, just listen:

I have formulated a five-point plan

to get you back atop the rankings,

and step number one is to successfully complete

a small-time job.

Well, what are the other steps?

I didn't want to spoil it,

but step four is a makeover.

Well, I like that.

Of course you do. My plan will work.

Just trust me.

Trust me.

You won't regret hiring me

as your assistant. Trust me.

Consider this my resignation.

Bella! I will not let you die!

- I'll never trust you, Zane! - Whoa, okay.

I learned my lesson about

blindly trusting an assistant.

Agatha, tell that rinky-dink museum

to make like Christopher McCandless

- and take a hike. - The Into the Wild guy?

Yeah, do you have a problem

with what I said, Saltine?

He famously took a hike. I'm halfway through that book,

- and the guy is all about hikes. - Actually, Rip,

you know how you've got that snake terrarium?

Because they're my favorite animal, yeah, go on.

And the snakes require heat lamps.

Because they're ectothermic, yes. Continue.

Well, those lamps use a lot of power,

and we're way behind on our bills,

so you should take the job because

we desperately need the money.

Okay, fine. I'll do it for my beloved snakes.

So what's the job?

Welcome to the Museum of Confetti.

The only museum dedicated to

indistinguishable little scraps of paper.

Oh, man.

So, this one is from the London Olympics'

opening ceremony, and this one is from the closing ceremony.

Wait, that's the closing, and this is the opening.

I'm sorry. I feel so ashamed right now.

- Kind of wish I could die. - Oh, no.

Anyways, I was hoping you could help me find

a piece of the most historically significant confetti ever.

I didn't know confetti had a history.

Please share.

Hundreds of years ago in Ital,

it was a young boy's birthday,

but his family couldn't afford any gifts.

So the boy sat alone, wishing for a miracle,

when someone emptied their trash,

filled with small pieces of paper,

out the window above him.

- ? La-la-la-la-la... ? - His prayers were answered,

and confetti was born.

On the dark web, I came across a tip

as to the location of one of the original pieces.

It says it's hidden near the Rialto Bridge,

but I can't go to Italy.

Who would sing to my confetti at night?

Five-point plan.

Fine, yes, we're in. Swooper, gas up the plane.

We're headed to Venice, Italy.

Plane's already gassed up.

If I add any more, it will explode.

Is that what you want? 'Cause I swear to God,

I'll do it, Rip. I'll do anything for you, man!

Well, seems like Petey's tip was a bust,

and that stupid piece of paper's nowhere to be found.

What are you getting up to over there?

The confetti may not be on the bridge,

but it could be in the bridge.

I noticed an opening, so I'm having Fleety look inside.

We can watch with my newest cool invention:

The FleetyCam.

Oh, yeah, look at that.

That must be it. Go, Fleety.

Oh. Oh, God.

Fleety, watch out! What the...?

Fleety? How did you...?

The video's on a 30-second delay.

Would you have preferred a live feed?

Yeah, of course.

I mean, little anticlimactic.

Kind of wanted to see how Fleety got out of that.

Nice work, buddy. Here's your treat.

Well, there it is, whoop-de-doo,

a boring piece of confetti that nobody cares about.

- Confetti? - Confetti?

Did somebody say "confetti"?

? Confetti, confetti ?

? Confetti, confetti, confetti. ?

Confetti!

Wow, I guess people here

really do love confetti.

Hold on, there's something written on this.

They've got the confetti.

Guys, I love the hat,

but I think it's too long.

Welcome, Rip Digman.

What the hell is going on here?

We are the descendants of Julius Caesar,

and my name is Cale. Cale Caesar.

But before you say anything, I've heard all the jokes.

And I love them,

so if you'd like to make any, I am all ears.

Uh, your name sounds like a salad?

I actually hadn't heard that one before.

Wow, you went right at it.

We are known as the Little Caesars.

And, yes, I've heard all the jokes.

Those ones, I don't like.

Seems arbitrary, but humor is subjective.

We will stop at nothing to return the Caesars to power.

For years we have been searching

for the world's original batch of confetti

because it is actually a torn-up map

leading to one of Italy's greatest lost treasures.

The knife Brutus used to kill Caesar.

Ah, shit.

Legend has it that the knife is cursed,

and anyone who holds it

is overcome by the desire to kill their boss.

Just like Brutus did to Caesar.

Many have sought the knife to

exploit its power, so, hundreds of years ago,

the great Venetian mapmaker Fra Mauro

hid the knife

and drew a map to its location.

But when evildoers closed in

on Fra Mauro, he tore up the map,

scattering the pieces to the wind.

? La-la-la-la-la. ?

The writing on the back, that's why you grabbed us.

We found the final piece.

Precisely. The map is now complete,

but there's no "X" marking the knife's location,

just a Latin riddle

that you will help us solve.

And why would we help you?

Because if you don't,

you'll find yourself at the bottom of a canal.

- With scuba equipment on? - No.

- Damn it. - Lunch is here.

Okay, I've got a Caesar salad.

- That's me. - And I've got a Caesar salad.

- That's mine. - A make-your-own salad

with romaine, anchovies, parmesan,

- croutons, Caesar dressing. - Oh, that's... Hey, that's mine.

You guys want any salad?

And they stole the map and escaped.

I feel like that's on all of us.

You know, I mean, honestly, who escapes anymore? Just stay.

Now, this is more like it. If we find the knife

that killed Caesar, I'll make the Arky Rankings for sure.

And that will solve all my problems forever.

Aren't you worried about the knife's curse?

Oh, Saltine, there's no way this knife is cursed.

People want to kill their bosses

every day.

Hell, you probably want to

kill me right now. But don't, though.

- I don't want to kill you. - Yeah, you say that,

because you need job security,

but we both know you'd kill me in an instant

if given an opportunity. Now, all we have to do

is solve this riddle, and, luckily,

I know just the new character.

Rip Digman?

Oh, sorry, it's not

that I'm shocked to see you, I'm just clumsy.

A bit of an olive oil fingers, if you take my meaning.

Saltine, meet Professor McEwan,

my old Italian history professor,

and an absolutely primo, grade A, male mentor.

- Grappa? - No, thanks.

- 10:15 a.m. - Well, it's 5:00 somewhere.

Not if it's 10:15?

Right, so let's take a look at this map.

Whoop. My bad. So, the map...

Not sure if I mentioned this,

I'm a bit of an olive oil fingers.

- Yeah, you did. - That's the Italian version...

Of a butterfingers. Right, I get it.

Great, then you understand. Moving on.

Fascinating.

Seems like this phrase may be a clue.

"Flavo pila credere in."

That's Latin for "Trust in the sun."

Perhaps sunlight will reveal a hidden message.

Ah, nothing.

Let's think.

If I were Fra Mauro, what would I do?

Well, I'd change my name first, that's for sure.

You are the funniest person

I've ever met. Bar none.

Now, how to solve this riddle.

Can I try? I'm pretty good at cracking those things.

Cracking those.

- Damn these eggs. - Can I try?

I'm pretty good at cracking those things.

No way, Zane! I don't want your help, you backstabber!

Whoa, Rip, you're clearly

projecting your issues with Zane onto me.

Well, I'm sorry, Saltine, but I have trauma.

You can't argue with trauma. Are you unsympathetic to trauma?

Uh, Saltine, perhaps we should give Rip a moment here.

My assistant Roberto would be more than happy

to show you around our beautiful city.

At your service.

Why don't you come with me, amica?

Um, yes, please.

And that is what happens

when the moon hits your eye. But enough astronomy talk.

This is really lovely, Roberto.

Oh, for me, it's my pleasure.

To stroll with a beautiful woman such as yourself,

it made my armpits, um, how you say, uh,

wet and scented.

What a great way of putting that.

May I, uh, remove?

"I'm with Stupid" in Latin?

That's so clever.

You're a fellow Latin lover?

Oh, Mamma mia, yes.

It is my one true passion.

I-I wish it was a living language still.

Me, too. I could talk about it "ad nauseam."

And yet, Saltina, I feel I could never reach

"nauseam" with you.

Ergo, I'd like to show you my Venice. Will you allow me?

Well, "carpe diem," right?

Saltina, I love you.

Whoa. Okay, rad. Thanks.

To me, this is the most romantic sight

in all of Venezia. Via!

Is that

an imperfect subjunctive contrafactual condition?

Yes.

Thank you for an incredible day, Roberto.

It's so beautiful here.

Made more beautiful

by you.

- You okay there, Roberto? - Mm-hmm.

'Cause it seems like you thought you could

just take a big bite of a lemon

like it would be no big deal.

No, it tastes very good.

If that's what happened, it's fine, we're still gonna smash.

It just seems weird you wouldn't be honest.

Mmm. You know, lemons

were a rare treat in ancient Italy,

reserved only for the wealthy.

We've got to get back to the manor.

Hey, what are you doing? You're gonna ruin the map.

No, I'm not. Your translation was wrong.

It wasn't "Trust in the sun,"

it was "Trust in the yellow ball,"

which is what your average person called lemons

in ancient Italy because they were so rare.

And lemon juice can be used as an acid developer

to make invisible phenolphthalein inks visible

like so.

Easy-peasy,

lemon-squeezy.

St. Mark's Piazza, that's where the knife is hidden.

Holy authentic Italian cannoli.

You've done it.

Oh, I think I should just go for it

and get all rubber everything, right?

You'd be selling yourself short not to. Yeah.

- Do you know a rubber monger? - Not locally.

- But back home? - Yeah.

If Rip gives you my email, will you send me

your rubber monger's info?

Of course, but just so you know,

he's in Temecula until Thursday.

It's his aunt and uncle's 40th anniversary.

The anniversary was actually last year,

but Don hurt his foot, so they couldn't celebrate.

- Don is the uncle. - What is Don's wife's name?

- Kathleen. - Kathleen and Don

actually met a few blocks away

from where the party is being held.

- Is that so? - But Kathleen was with

Gary Delvecchio back then, so she and Don

didn't start dating until a few months later.

In fact, he wanted to come to the anniversary,

but he's staying in Chicago because

it's his granddaughter Jessica's

seventh birthday party.

- It's pony-themed. - Which, yes,

was also her friend Madison's birthday theme.

Ah, well, please send Madison and her family my best.

Will do.

This place is crawling with Little Caesars.

Why don't you guys check the basilica,

and we'll meet back up at...

Uh, let's see, what time is it now?

Great Caesar's ghost.

That clock hand, it's the knife.

Hidden in plain sight.

Just like Waldo in the Where's Waldo? novels.

Or the Bible verse on the bottom

of a Forever 21 bag.

Now, here's the plan. You'll climb the clocktower...

- Oh, is that it? - Yup, that's the whole thing.

How it's looking down there?

Don't worry, no one's "clocked" you,

pun absolutely intended.

Everyone is just buried in their phones.

It's sad when you think about it.

No way, fuck that. I love my phone.

Push that shit on someone else.

Almost... got... it.

Who am I,

Harold Lloyd in Safety Last!?

Anyway, I'm in huge trouble!

Woo-hoo!

Who am I, Hudson Hawk?

Uh, I would describe that as

Hudson Hawk meets Harold Lloyd.

Thank you.

So, Saltine, you're holding the knife.

Is it cursed?

I am your boss.

Does it make you want to kill me?

Fine. It's just a normal knife.

Well, I guess all's well

- that ends... - It's them.

- Over there. - Shit!

Okay, this piazza is famously full of pigeons.

We run straight at them, and when they take flight,

they'll hide us in a canopy of wings and feathers.

Sounds good, let's go!

- They're not flying! - Why won't they fly?

We're just crunching them.

I can hear their tiny, brittle bones beneath my feet.

Oh, God, I think I just curbed one.

- Are we going to hell for this? - Oh, no, no!

I have now killed, like, 4,000 pigeons.

I will never not feel them under my feet.

And we're leaving a perfect pigeon carcass path

for the Caesars to follow.

It's disgusting and hurting our cause.

Okay, new plan. Jump!

Well, at least the canal water

washed off the pigeon blood.

And then she walked in with her perfect figure:

30-30-30, a total tube.

Yello?

Swooper, we're in the canal by St. Mark's.

Get a gondola and get us fast.

On my way, Rippy.

Sorry that my five-point plan

might get us killed, Rip.

Are you kidding me?

This is the good stuff.

I haven't been this happy in years.

Really? Wow. So, I guess

you could say trusting me was a good call.

Good call.

Hey, Zane, what do you think of this turkey call?

Good call.

No, I'm not falling for that again.

I'll never trust you.

Come on, Swooper, where are you?

One gondola, please.

You need a license to rent a gondola.

But getting one is no easy task.

The training is rigorous.

It will test you. It will break you.

And it will cost you

60 euros.

Welcome to...

Top Gondola.

Gentlemen, look around you.

Someone in this classroom will die

before the training is over.

Never drop your oar.

- I - don't hear singing.

This is wrong. You are my teacher.

Yee-haw!

Time for your greatest test:

the Quick Stop.

Guppy, you're up first.

Guppy, there's a whirlpool!

Quick stop, Guppy!

Guppy! No...!

Is Pap� in heaven, Mamma?

S�. Pap� � in paradiso.

What do you mean you quit?

You haven't even mastered the Quick Stop yet.

We can't give you a license until you do.

I'm sorry, Denise. I can't.

Hey, man.

You were the best of us.

So you got your license?

- Oh, yeah. - Okay, here you go.

Somebody order a gondola?

? Barcarola... ?

Swooper, what are you doing? Shut up.

I'm a gondolier, Rip, I got to sing.

You're gonna attract too much attention.

I'll attract more attention if I don't sing.

There's nothing more suspicious than a silent gondolier.

I don't care. Put a sock in it.

Over there. That gondolier isn't singing.

- It's them. - Told you.

They have Jet Skis?

Nothing a little NOS can't outrun.

That's how you do it.

H-hey, look, it's a dolphin.

Oh, no, a shark ate it!

A big dolphin ate the shark!

- There are rapids in Venice? - Yes.

Oh, my God, Swooper, stop.

Swooper, what the hell are you doing? Stop!

This is for you, Guppy.

Incredible work, Swooper.

Thanks. I'm gonna go return the gondola.

Well, that worked out great.

And now for an epic selfie

with my phone, which I love.

- Saltine, hold this a sec. - Okay.

- Okay. - Oh, no, you don't, Zane.

You'd stab me with it.

You know that's not true. I was holding it earlier.

You were joking about it.

Doesn't matter, I have trauma.

Roberto, here, you hold it.

Sure thing.

What's so funny, Roberto?

Are you remembering a Latin meme?

- Can you share? - Mi scusi.

I am laughing because

I have the knife now.

Roberto, you're betraying us?

I trusted you.

Wait, so you've been undercover,

working for and sleeping with Professor McEwan

- just to look for the knife? - Wait, sleeping with?

That's right. I tricked you.

And soon I'll explain why.

I'm sorry, not to harp on this. You were sleeping with McEwan?

Yes, but you are focusing on the wrong thing. But yes.

Roberto, no. Was it all just a lie?

What about the seven times we had amazing sex?

What about the time we started, but then you slipped out,

and then we heard people coming so we decided to just call it?

Been there.

None of it was a lie, Saltina.

When I said I loved you 45 seconds after meeting you,

I meant it.

But there is more you should know about me.

I am actually the deputy vice president

of Italy's Ministry of Education,

meaning I am third in line to rule as secretary.

But when I place the dagger in the hands of the man

who is second in line, he will kill his boss,

then be arrested, leaving the education throne

to be assumed by me,

and then I shall once more make Latin

the national language of Italy!

I realize you have the upper hand,

but it's a weird plan.

- It's not weird. - The knife isn't even cursed,

genius. You saw it yourself.

Oh, it's cursed all right.

You just hadn't activated it.

Veni ad vitam, cultrum mirabilis.

Aw, shit, it's glowing red. Yeah, it's cursed.

So, what, you're just gonna kill us?

On the contrary, I want to rule this new empire

with you by my side. But as for Rip?

He will die.

- By your hand. - No, I-I can't.

Why not? He doesn't trust you.

He can't even speak Latin.

Tell me, Saltine. Where's the lie?

I mean, sure,

that is all true.

Give me the knife.

What? Saltine, no.

I thought we had a good thing going.

This won't hurt a bit, boss.

Trust me.

Aw, crap.

Is this curtains for me?

I'm about to be fitted for

a pine overcoat, aren't I?

I don't want to pay Charon's fee

and shake hands with Elvis.

You're telling me I'm gonna be

promoted to Glory? No way.

And now that he's definitely dead,

I can fulfill my destiny

- as the... - I'm back.

Saltine,

you remembered the jerky.

- I did. - That was amazing.

So... you kill people?

It would appear so, yeah.

- Huh. - Truth be told,

this was my first time.

I'm actually having...

having a little trouble with it.

Oh, my God, what have I done?!

His life! I snuffed it out!

He'll never have another birthday!

But he was gonna kill us, right? I had no choice.

You saw, he was evil. Oh, shit, I'm gonna boot.

Oh, no.

He slipped on a rock! You saw!

Oh, God, he had a mother, Saltine!

Oh, fuck.

I'm a piece of shit, I'm a fucking piece of shit!

So it's agreed, we'll never talk about that again.

Yup, you got it. So, are you excited

to make the Arky Rankings this week, Rip?

- The knife makes it a sure bet. - Indeed, 'twould be nice.

But I think it will be many moons longer still.

- What do you mean? - It's the unwritten

arky code, Saltine.

We can't give a cursed object to a museum,

for it will always be targeted by ne'er-do-wells.

I am just happy returning the confetti.

That was step one of your five-point plan,

and I trust your plan.

Perfect, time for step two: Making amends.

Fuck that. I'm out.

Ouch!

Come to papa.

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