All language subtitles for The Middleman s01e11 The Clotharian Contamination Protocol.eng

and Galleys,

I realized what the song needs now is a solo.

So I'm gonna go home,

strap on the Telecaster
and find out a way to make it sing.

It's gonna be good.

- Tyler, I'm so sorry.
- About what?

- Um, you're not upset?
- About my show?

Oh, no, is this gonna be
like thatSaved By The Bell

where no one would tell Jessie
how bad her music really was,

so she had a caffeine pill freakout?

'Cause I was the only person in the audience.

Why would I be upset about that?
I killed.

Seriously, Dubbie, since you and I met,

I've been writing like a song-nado.

A tornado made of songs?

You know it. Who cares
how many people came to the show?

The songs are great,
if I do say so myself,

the ideas are flowing,

and you're the best audience
I could possibly want.

And now, if you don't mind,

I'd like to decompress
from my artistic triumph

by enjoying a fine ding experience
with my lady.

Only if I can treat.

Well, seeing as how I got all of... Oh!

- Forty-six cents in tips.
- That barista shafted you.

Be my guest.

If the universe isn't gonna reward you
for being a great guy and a talented musician

because it's too busy
making d-baggy slimeballs rich and famous,

the least I can do is
pick up some of the slack.

As much as I appreciate
the show of solidarity,

Dubster, I'm over it.

Over it? Your old band is live
at Budokan on a song you wrote.

I'm sorry, Tyler,
but you deserve better.

Um, two hotdogs.One grilled onions
and mustard,

one chili-cheese with bacon.

I know you're Zen guy about the whole thing,
and I admire that,

but if there ever were people
who should reap the whirlwind,

their names are Casanova Charlie.

Is Casanova Charlie.

How come there's no one
in the band named Charlie?

That bass player steals his girl,

for which I'm infinitely grateful,
by the way,

but still,

he rides the wave to the pop charts
of success on his song.

What's the problem?

Those guys are masher chum-suckers.

No, they're worse.

If they tried to suck chum,
they'd fail. All right?

Honestly, I think it's the flyer
I designed for a show.

Should have featured in the foreground

so that people could bask in the sheer power
that is his awesomeness

and if they failed to come to the show,

they would miss the newest magic by the guy
who really wrote Dreams of Monica.

Want a piece?

Yeah. He wrote it.

- Tyler, are you OK?
- I'm fine.

- Are you OK?
- You just saved my life.

- Oh, I don't think I...
- I do.

You selflessly stepped in
to mediate a tense situation.

When that proved untenable,

you took swift action to prevent me
from a lethal dose of wood and pine tar.

I'm sure you have gainful employment,

but if you should find yourself wanting,
please call me.

Are you offering him a job?

The empathy to step in and the gumption
to act are rare qualities.

I'm always looking for someone
with rare qualities.

I don't know if that's me.

- I do.
- I do.

I'll be expecting your call.

You are such a rockstar.

www.1000fr.com presents

Capture:xxy Sync:âùÐÄ

the.middleman.s01e11

- Morning, Lacey. Hey, Noser.
- Hey, Tyler.???

- Yo, Wendy's boyfriend.
- Tyler, give me back my shirt.

Two minutes.This is an emergency.

Pan-galactic incursion requiring
immediate sanction!

OK.I got it.I'll meet you outside.

- Noser, give me back my shirt.
- Noser, long bomb.

Noser throws where the coffee is.

Did your boss just call you on your watch
about a pan-galactic gargle blaster?

No.

Uh, Lacey, can I borrow your Capri pants?

Go for it.

So how's our hero doing today?

Seriously, Lacey,
all I did was stop a street fight.

The way Wendy told it,
you were like Bruce Willis.

I hope you mean
before he recordedThe Return of Bruno.

Saving the life of a man of mystery.

Did you called the guy
for your reward yet?

Reward?

If you saved his life using kung fu,

he owes you what the Chinese sifus,
the Japanese sensei

and the Jedi knights refer to as a "life debt."

Every kung fu movie ever made can't be wrong.

In terms the common man can understand:
you own his ass.

Mm. I don't want to own his ass.

He offered me a job,

I told him I was gonna work on my music.

His card doesn't even have a company on it.

It's just his name.

You saved the life of Manservant Neville?

Manservant Neville?
Sounds like somebody's butler.

Not Man-servant, Man-ser-vant.As in,
Manservant Neville.

CEO of Fatboy Industries.

As in the man
who brought the world the uMaster.

- The uMaster!
- Oh, that Manservant Neville.

I remember when I got my first uMaster.

Did it not change your life?

It seems to have an invisible touch.

I had a uMaestro for a while.

The knockoffs are just not the same.

But Manservant Neville, Fatboy Industries,

he didn't just create a handheld device
that changed how people relate to the world.

They are the greenest,
most progressive corporation ever.

They fund the one uMaster per child initiative

and a massive solar farm in the Gobi

and a blue whale haven in the...

Son of a monkey's uncle, Wendy Watson,

which part of "emergency" didn't you get?

Wendy, why is your boss standing
outside our door wearing a hazmat suit?

Forget it, Lace, it's Chinatown.

I'm not gonna lie to you, Dubbie.

The party's beginning
and we have a manure hoagie.

What's with the salty language?

♪♪♪ Familiar with NASA's Voyager♪

The two probes that conducted
grand tours of the solar system

and passed into deep space,
never to be seen again?

Each carrying evidence of humanity
to anything ??

that might want to pick them up.

- Did someone?
- Unknown.

But less than a half hour ago,

the HEYDAR picked up an object streaking
across the solar system.

Voyager 2 is rocketing back home,

and it's coming in hotter
than the devil's wedding tackle

Whoa! That was filthy.

It's that bad.

Is that why we're going
all Andromeda Strain on it?

I'm not taking any chances.

When one of NASA's birds unexpectedly
comes back to the nest,

it can mean one of two things:

One, the probe is carrying an alien virus,
hence the suits.

Two, the probe is carrying actual aliens,
hence the suits.

Actually, three things.

Possible the probe developed
artificial intelligence

and is returning to judge its makers,

in which the suits are the least worry.

But bottom line, Dubbie, that grand tour was
supposed to be a one-way ticket,

and I'm godfather to an aardvark before
I let a debacle like the Viking Mission happen.

The Viking Mars mission?There was no one...

I'll explain.

Voyager 2, or what's left of it.

The outer casing and antennae must
have burned off in re-entry.

Luckily, it looks like the black box is still intact.

Wow. When I was three years old,

my dad sat me on his lap
in front of the television

to watch the pictures Voyager 2
sent back from Neptune.

It seemed like magic back then.

- Now, it just looks...
- Small?

Like a wrecked hibachi.

This is a secure area.
You have to clear out.

We're authorized. I'm Commander Benton,

this is Specialist Herriot.

- NASA.
- We're NASA.

- Regional listening post number 46A.
- What a shocker.

Only an apple-dumpling gang of untrained,

scrub-podunk-know-nothings would show up
at the potentially toxic aftermath

of a pan-galactic incursion with only bubblegum
in their mouths and the air between their ears.

Where are environment suits?

I... We... This is a routine retrieval.

Routine retrieval? How many Terran Probe
Return Retrievals have you been on?

None. I mean we just found out
about this a few minutes ago.

- What if that wreck is carrying alien virus?
- Or an actual alien?

Or developed artificial intelligence
to judge its makers?

Or if it has already judged its makers
and found them wanting?

Bottom line, Mr...

...Lethbridge-Stuart, if that is your name,

are you gonna stand in front of Congress

when we're sprouting tentacles from our elbows

and tell them that it was a routine retrieval?

OK. But if this goes south,

it's your ass in front of the oversight committee.

Cover your kiester? Send a letter to my boss.

You can address it to Current Occupant,
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

OK, guys, let's go!

We should be NASA on every mission.

It's thinking like that that led
to drug-resistant malaria.

Let's get this picnic basket.

Ooh! I like the bridge.

- Wait, the best part is coming up.
- Just listen.

Wow, Tyler. It's awesome!

The new solo you added is amazing.

Tyler Ford, I'm gonna have to ask you
to co-produce my concept album.

Oh, I'm gonna have to say yes.

Manservant Neville.

Good morning, Miss Thornfield.

Mr. Noser, and Tyler Ford.

- Why haven't you called me?
- A, I didn't think you were serious.

B, I didn't think you were really
Manservant Neville.

And C, did you track me
to the hallway of my girlfriend's loft

and find out all of our names?

When someone saves my life,

someone who doesn't know who I am,
I pay attention.

I would have done the same for anyone.

But you didn't.You did it for me.

I believe fate has brought
our paths together for a reason.

I really appreciate the offer,

but I'm not exactly corporate material.

No, you're not,

which is why I've gone through
such great pains to find you.

They said no one would
buy a solar-powered hand-held device

made entirely out of recycled materials,

and now one in 25 humans owns a uMaster.

Intuition is why I am where I am.

And I have intuition about you.

You know Fatboy Tower downtown?

Tell the proctor I sent you. 10:00.

- I don't think I can...
- Fate, Mr. Ford.

Fate.

That was crazy, right?
Because I'm thinking crazy.

Most crazy. But kind of cool.

- Cool, really?
- Put this on.

That's the tie Wendy
and I hang on the stairs when we're...

Like I don't know. Look,
I don't care what you say,

you're going to the interview,
and I'm driving you.

Lacey, I'm a musician.

And this is like Bono offering you a job.

Bono, Buddha and the Wizard of Oz.

Like the man said, it's fate.

Middleman HQ.2hours, 41 minutes
before the inevitable detonation

Shouldn't we be doing
this in a lab or something?

Oh, did they teach you
about labs in art school?

Yes. They also taught me
about the ancient art of color matching.

I do enjoy the banter,
but let's remember the project at hand.

This box was designed to serve
as a zygon-rated quarantine facility.

- We're perfectly safe.
- What if something happens to the box?

Well, then I'd say it's been nice knowing ya,

but it hasn't.

Would you like to do the honors, Wendy?

Your chance to handle a piece of history,

albeit through triple-strength prophylactics.

No. And please don't call them that.

All right.

That is not your tax dollars at work.

- Is that writing?
- Good eye.

Hard to discern, but it looks like,

- "Made in Clothar."
- Clothar?

The war-torn galaxy
that sent us Varsity FanClub,

five intergalactic dictators masquerading
as a boy band,

and threatened to destroy Earth
and everyone on it?

You remember that?

I thought you were
on the happy leaf that whole time.

Is it just me, or is that Clotharian for...?

Three, two... -

Contamination alert.

Contamination alert.
Contamination alert.

Are you telling me
there's an alien virus loose in here?

???it exposes the mucus membranes.

Contamination alert.
I hope your Code 47's up to date.

- Code 47?
- Talking.

Leave the watch.
It goes through the showers with you.

- Showers?
- Yeah. D-con protocol, honey.

That's what you get for being made of meat.

Breathe deeply. Aerosolized antibiotics.

Toke it, sweetpea.
You know how to do that, right?

- Ida, a little privacy, please?
- Oh, fine.

Thank God.

What?

You might find the next phase a bit awkward.

To lower the
risk of infection following exposure,

there is a great deal of scrubbing involved.

Normally, Interrodroid takes up the duty,

but since 5000 has been destroyed,
and the building is under quarantine...

We're won't get any replacements anytime soon.

Great. I guess I can cross

"give my boss a Silkwood shower"
off the life list.

Oh, good lord!

There's no such thing as modesty
when life and death are at stake.

Now, quit your grinning and drop your linen.

- I am not grinning.
- Here comes the steam.

Look at all these people.
It's Gucci Gulch over here.

Do you really need Armani
for rolling calls and light filing?

It's Manservant Neville,
what do you expect?

Maybe you should apply for this job.

Can't. I'm wanted in three states.

We have been expecting you, Mr. Ford.

- Does everyone around here know my name?
- Yes.

You may wait to be called. Thank you.

What am I doing here?

You're going on an adventure, Tyler Ford.

What's the worst that could happen?

You turn down the world's
greatest multi-media mogul

and you get a story to tell your friends
for the rest of your life.

It's not exactly rock and roll.

Yeah.

But aren't you dying to find out what it is?

Mr. Tyler Ford.

Good luck, Tyler.

So, what kind of job is this?

The kind you'll find out about
if deemed worthy.

You wouldn't mind taking a few tests first,
would you?

All rid of that not-so-fresh feeling?

Status, Ida? Have you
made any progress isolating the contaminant?

Cultures are cooking.

You may have to sit in d-con for a few minutes.

See if there's any way to contact the Clotharians.

If this is their mess,
they might have the Goo Gone to get rid of it.

They put a killer alien virus in our space probe.

They're just gonna give us the antidote?

- Not with that attitude.
- I'm on it.

Dubbie, it's time I told you about Code 47.

Yeah, what is that?

And how many codes do we have, anyway?

- At least 86.
- You don't know?

In the event that a Middleman is called upon
to make the ultimate sacrifice,

a microwave burst from the Middlewatch
delivers a pre-recorded message.

Whoa, Scooter. We're not gonna die
from a face-full of some alien virus.

I certainly hope not.

But a Middleman should be prepared
for any eventuality.

I record a Code 47
for you during every mission.

I'm as serious as a German film festival.

Dubbie, if you're seeing this,

I have been assassinated
by the Clan of the Pointed Stick.

I trust you were more fortunate.

Dubbie, if you're seeing this,

I've been turned into a fish zombie
and you had to shoot me in the head.

Dubbie, if you're seeing this,

I have perished in the Underworld.

Hopefully,
we've stopped thousand years of fire.

If not, you might want to look into
getting an asbestos umbrella.

Or a really good insurance policy.

Dubbie, if you're seeing this,

we were unable to stop Varsity FanClub,

the Clotharian rebel fleet
opened up a warp hole

and their armada has reduced
the planet Earth to a smoking cinder.

I'm not sure how you managed to survive,
but good for you.

OK, that's enough Last Thought Theater.

- Code 47 is...
- Planning for failure. No, thank you.

Wanting to say goodbye to friends
and family is hardly planning for failure.

If you knew you weren't
going to see Lacey again,

wouldn't you tell her
what she means to you?

If she doesn't already know,
I'm a pretty lousy friend.

There's nothing that you haven't told her?
Or Mr. Noser?

- Or Tyler?
- Nope.

Open book. That's me.

I hope you know you
were a stellar Middleman in training, Dubbie.

And I'm sure your superb immune system
will serve you well

as you one day train a Middleboy
or Middlegirl of your own.

I am right here. You're not dead.

That doesn't change
what I would say to you if I were.

How much longer do we have
to stay in this bath-house?

Decontamination of the corridors
should be done by now.

Ida, are we cleared to exit isolation?

Ida? It's the Middleman. Do you read?

Ida? It's me, the toker.

Hophead McStoney. Pick up!

She's right there.
Why isn't she answering?

We've been Jack Traven-ed.
That's not Ida.

That's a recording
of Ida playing on a loop.

- How could a virus do that?
- Maybe Ida's been compromised.

Perhaps this is all part
of some elaborate Clotharian ruse.

Whatever's going on,
we got to get to Ops.

- And that can only mean one thing.
- Really?

We're going to have to activate one
of our emergency incursion protocols.

I thought we only
had one emergency incursion protocol.

Try over 300. And in this case,

it's going to have
to be the Nakatomi Protocol.

Nakatomi? Like the movie?

No. Like the real-life events
that inspired the movie.

"Come out to the coast,
we'll get together, have a few laughs."

No dawdling, Dubbie.

Can I say something?

It's what the Founding Fathers fought for.

What's up with the vents?

We're coming from an isolation chamber

inside a secret headquarters built
by an organization so covert

we don't even know who they are.

Yet we have vents large enough to crawl into,
with accessible registers.

Was this building designed
by TV writers or what?

No, it wasn't. See, most of the time,

the Middle-vents are a series of tubes,
each one no thicker than a capellini.

But the Nakatomi Protocol enlarges the
vent system to allow us to move about freely.

Simultaneously, it confounds any hostiles
by shutting down our internal surveillance,

- allowing the hunted to become...
- The hunters. Cool.

Hold the wire. This is dad-gum peculiar.

I don't get it. Interrodroid was destroyed.

That was Interrodroid 5000.
This is obviously Interrodroid 6000.

How, "obviously"? And how
was a new Interrodroid delivered?

We were supposed to be in lockdown.

Interrodroid 6000 is using HEYDAR
to cause a cascade overload

in all of Ida's vital systems.

He's turning her into a walking detonator.

Oh, come on, how many times are people
gonna break into headquarters

- and threaten to blow up the place?
- A, about three times a year.

And B, a cascade overload will put all of our
systems into a simultaneous detonation sequence

and crater the entire city.

We have about 60 minutes
before our town becomes our cinder.

Great. Hans Gruber-ed with our own robot.

- Hey. Can she see us?
- Yes, I can.

Kill them!

- Nice catch.
- Next time, you be the bait.

It would appear that Ida has
been contaminated and turned against us.

Great. It's like Die Hard in a building.

Which explains
why we aren't showing any symptoms.

Whatever was in that capsule was
meant for Ida, not us.

She duped us into lockdown
to get us out of the way.

All that scrubbing, for nothing.

At least we have one of our guns back.

The other firearms are locked up tighter
than Marie Antoinette's corsets.

- Nakatomi Protocol?
- Nakatomi Protocol.

It's an even split.
Ida has my Middlegun and...

Now, I have a machine gun. Ho-ho-ho.

Firepower isn't going to win the day, Dubbie.

But that severed head just might.

Come on, we need to keep moving.

- Mr. Ford.
- Yes... sir.

- You want to work for Fatboy Industries.
- I was approached, actually.

You attended a small liberal arts college
of no particular reputation or merit.

McCrimmon College is considered an excellent...

And took five-and-a-half years to finish.

I finished in three-and-a-half years,

but I took two years off in the middle
to backpack through Africa and South Asia.

And that made you so worldly you haven't been
able to hold a job other than guitarist

for more than three months?

Some of those jobs sure felt
like they lasted more than that.

No?

As for your time as a guitarist,

that was capped by your composition
of the number one hit song,

Dreams of Monica.

A song you freely gave to your former bandmates
when you left the group

because you were dumped
by the song's namesake.

What's that got to do with...?

Is this the kind of decision-making we can expect

when you're representing our interests?

I gave up the song because music is a living thing.

Dreams of Monica was written about that girl,
for those people.

I could have taken it
and recorded it with another group,

but it would have been as dead
as a goldfish in a gerbil cage.

It sure wouldn't have been a hit.

There was one place that song could live.

And since I couldn't live there, I let it go.

Do you truly believe that your cavalier
attitude toward intellectual property

would serve this company or Manservant Neville's?

What did you just say?

I said, "Do you truly believe that your
cavalier attitude toward intellectual property

would serve this company or Manservant Neville's?"

Why can't you pronounce your own boss's name?

And why is your watch ticking so damn loud?

It's a Cartier Pasha case,
but the movement ticks like a cheap knockoff.

Your suit is machine-sewn, not handmade,

even though it's cut
in an ostentatious Italian style.

Your toupee is far more obvious
than a highly-paid corporate executive

would allow himself to wear.
Your cufflinks are plastic.

Your tie is a clip-on.

And your reading glasses don't have
magnification lenses in them.

And you can't pronounce Manservant Neville.

Which means that
this is either a very poorly run company,

in which case I have no business working for you,

or... this is still a test,

in which case you people are sick,

demented... geniuses.

That will be all, Mr. Ford.

It's been too long.

Ida's gonna to figure out
something happened with Interrodroid.

We have ten levels to hide in,
she won't be expecting instant results.

Is this even gonna work?

Supreme Commander of the Clotharian Rebel Fleet
contacted us through the Interrodroid before.

We should be able to use
the technology to call him back.

I know. But that was, like,
two Interrodroids ago.

Remember how when we got New Ida
she had all of Old Ida's memories?

- Yeah.
- Same with Interrodroids.

Dubbie, this really is a one-man job.

Perhaps now would be a good time for you
to reconsider your stance on Code 47,

in case the Clotharians aren't willing to help.

- Nope.
- I have to say,

I'm a bit surprised by your reluctance.

Considering the mysterious disappearance
of your father,

you'd want your mother...

Look, I'm not gonna record the message, OK?

How did you obtain this frequency?

- High Aldwin...
- I am not High Aldwin.

You sound like Graham Chapman
and dress like a vestal virgin.

- If you're not High Aldwin...
- Silence!

I have been promoted
since we last spoke.

I must now only be addressed
as Maximum Aldwin.

Oh! Well, that's just great.

I know you. The hairless ape
who read the scrolls of Xanthor.

Maximum Aldwin,
your people returned one of our probes.

Within that probe was a capsule
which contained a virus.

In accordance with provisions
of the Treaty of Periperpegilliam,

you are required to inform us...

I told them that signing the treaty
of Periperpegilliam was a mistake.

Now, everyone suddenly wants to know

why you're killing them and
how they're going to die.

Wait a minute. We saved your ass from
Varsity Fanclub and this is how you say thanks?

- A killer virus?
- Three of your Earth weeks ago,

Voyager 2 was sucked through a warp hole

and promptly began taking pictures
of a top-secret Clotharian military base.

As if flooding the cosmos
with your televised reality shows,

sitcoms and competitive
cooking programs wasn't bad enough,

you primates escalated
to galactic voyeurism.

And that will not stand.

The capsule we sent back
to you contained a payload

of aerosolized nanobots.

- Nano-whats?
- Nanobots.

Microscopic machines,
designed to infiltrate our technology

and rip it apart from the inside out.

And they're what's making Ida go boom all gone?

That's dumb. Won't the nano-butts
be blown up with the rest of the city?

To the contrary. The nanobots will
use the force of the explosion

to spread into the atmosphere
and from there, the world.

Within a week,

the height of human technology
will be a few pointy rocks,

which should teach you gibbons not
to treat our galaxy

like your own private peep show.

And now, if I may invoke the text
of one of your sacred documents,

"Yippi-kay-yay, "

If we can push Ida's reset button,
Ida will shut down,

which will stop the cascade,

and reactivate her root anti-virus systems,

- which will get rid of the nanobots.
- Where's the reset button?

- In her brain.
- Her brain?

How are you gonna push that?

You gonna get your Boston Strangler on again?

Ida's in livewire mode.

Any attack that compromises her structural
integrity will cause a premature detonation.

What we need is the HEYDAR.

You stay up nights coming up
with these plans, don't you?

We can use the HEYDAR's on-board shrink ray
to shrink me down to sub-atomic size.

- HEYDAR has a shrink ray?
- Of course.

We'd employ its particle accelerator...

- HEYDAR has a particle accelerator?
- Of course.

And we can use it to shoot me right into her.

Then I'll make my way to her brain
via the cortex entry hatch and trigger the reset,

which will engage her antivirus subroutine.

- Like the space android Norton utilities?
- Exactly.

After the nanobots have been destroyed,

I'll signal you with the Middlewatch.

Then you can use HEYDAR to restore me
to normal size.

That's a great plan,

except Ida's wired into HEYDAR
and she's on a hair trigger.

- Wait, what about...?
- Baby HEYDAR.

About time.

You took care of them?

I am so over being the bait.

Sorry, but I'm too tall to fit inside
Interrodroid's hollowed-out exoskeleton.

Now I know what a TV dinner feels like.

Commence the distraction, Dubbie.

Watch it, you oaf!

What's your damage?

You best unscrew yourself or
I am gonna reprogram you with a can opener.

Don't think I can't do it!

Everybody shut the heck up!

So, one of you is Interrodroid 7000.

That means the other one
is the burnout in a suit.

Now, you're wondering,
"How's Ida gonna know which one's the fake?"

?? I don't care.

- Get me out of here!
- Out the door! Go!

- Say goodnight, peanut.
- Sorry, Ida. I can't let you do that.

Dubbie. Dubbie, can you hear me?

Dubbie? Dubbie, are you all right?

I think so. Where am I?

OK. I'm in the sinus passage,

heading towards the brain.

Also, checking "picking an android's nose
from the inside" off the life list.

- Where are you?
- On the move.

Ida was stunned by the particle transfer
long enough for me to give her the slip.

OK. Just keep that Baby HEYDAR safe.
It's my ticket out of here.

Listen to me, Dubbie, and listen to me good.

I never intended for you
to be the one shrunken inside of Ida.

Now, something you need to know.

Now there's something I need to know?

After you've hit the reset button in Ida's brain

stopping her from blowing up the city,
it is crucial, I repeat, crucial

you get out of her body
through whatever orifice

before you signal for me
to bring you back to size.

If Baby HEYDAR returns you
to full size while surrounded

by Ida's titanium substructure...

- I'll be shredded.
- Like a White House phone log.

This place is a mess.

Wait, I hear something.

Oh, no. The nanobots!

They're taking apart Ida.

It's like Oompa-Loompas with power tools.

Be careful. Not only are nanobots super-strong
and nigh-indestructible,

they act as a swarm.

The last thing you want is to be
at the bottom of that pileup.

- They'll take you apart, literally.
- Avoid the nanobots. Got it.

- I'll call you when I reach the brain.
- Good luck.

Nice speech about the song. Very moving.

So did I call it about your board?

We've all been trying to find a way
to tell Sullivan about his crap toupee,

but we were afraid it would be... awkward.

Please. A bunch of stuffed shirts
could never have made the uMaster.

So I passed the test?

Have a good day, Manservant Neville.

You're not turning me down, are you?

Which part of "I'm a musician" did you miss?

The part where people are lined up
to hear you play.

I've done my homework, researched your life,

listened to your music.

?? you are good.

Really good.

- But what if it's not enough?
- I am good enough.

But the world isn't.
It seldom recognizes genius,

and when it does, it squashes it
with the abject tedium of compromise.

Dreams of Monica excepted,

you write songs about changing the world.

You want to be on a stage.
I'm offering you that stage.

I don't even know what this job is.

I need a right hand man,

and I don't need another stooge
from the Ivy League assembly line.

I need someone who has music in their soul.

It's time for you to stop singing
about changing the world,

it's time for you to start doing it.

I'm at the hatch to the brain,
but the nanobots are standing guard.

- Now way I can get around them.
- How many?

Does it matter? More than there are of me.

- You have to find a way inside.
- There's only the one hatch,

and these guys are about
to survive the equivalent of a nuclear strike.

- No way I can take them.
- Then don't.

The nanobots are strong,
but you're smarter.

It's just like what Sensei Ping says
about weasels.

They can easily hide in a tube sock?

That their love of battle is surpassed
by their love of shiny things.

Ida.

I know you're in there somewhere.
You can fight this.

You can't win.

Hurt me, and I blow up now,

take out the building
and spread the nanobots across the city.

Do nothing, I blow up later,

take out the city and spread
the nanobots across the world.

Maybe. But remember,

you can't injure me, or, through inaction,
allow me to come to harm.

Kiss my Asimov!

Welcome to the party, Ida.

Yoo-hoo! Over here!

How do you like them weasels?

- Tea?
- Uh, no. Thanks.

So, shrunken to lepton size.
White void.

Little people with power tools.
Better than Mary Jane, huh?

- You are Ida.
- I'm Ida's brain.

The nanobots have taken over her body.

And if you don't stop them
in the next five minutes,

humanity's gonna be rubbing two sticks together
to power their coconut phones.

I know. I came to hit your reset button.

Activate my anti-virus system,
destroy the nanobots, save the world?

Oh, honey, that was a good plan.

Thanks. Wait. "Was" a good plan?

The nanobots beat you to it.

They trashed my reset button first thing.

What am I supposed to do?

You want to stop the nanobot Apocalypse Now,

you've got to send me back to O2STK.

They can fix me, destroy the nanobots.
Or they'll send you a new Ida.

- All the same to me.
- O2STK?

"Organization too secret to know?"

No one knows how to contact them.

Even you said you didn't know who we work for.

Doesn't mean I don't know how to
return a faulty piece of equipment.

I may not know who runs the joint,

but keeping the Middleman in weapons
and gadgets and things is my primary function.

How am I gonna send you back
when Ops is in lockdown?

- Huh.
- Wait.

We must have some kind of channel
to O2STK in the building.

That's where all the new Interrodroids come from.

Keno. Just get the Middleman
to subdue my body and take me back to Ops.

I'll show you how to send me back to my maker.

Hey, boss, it's Wendy. I got a new plan.

Any chance you can subdue Ida
and get her back to Ops????

- You sucker-punched me!
- Goes to show how well you know me.

It doesn't matter what you do.

This cranky old broad goes kablooey
in three minutes.

Today, John Wayne doesn't get to ride off
into the sunset with Grace Kelly!

That's Gary Cooper, Ida.

Dubbie, I've brought Ida to Ops. Now what?

Bankers lamps. Third lamp, top row:

Turn off.

And the second lamp on the bottom row:

- Turn off, then on, then off again.
- Got that?

Off. On. Off. Got it.

Pipefitters local!
I've never seen that before!

It's a pneumatic tube.
Goes all the way to O2STK.

I always wondered how we got our weapons
and gadgets and things.

No Middleman's ever seen this far
behind the curtain.

But you two hoobanauts crapped
the comforter so bad,

I thought, "What the hey."

Uh, boss, Ida's brain says anything put
in the tube will go straight to O2STK.

I'm two steps ahead of you.

Dubbie, that explosion is gonna trigger
in two-and-a-half minutes.

You need to get out of there.

- The nanobots.
- They're coming in.

- Is there another way out?
- No.

Can I just go back with you to O2STK?

Not if you want to come back.

You need to get out of there now!

I can't.

Dubbie, if you can't get out of there,

I'm not sending Ida to O2STK.

You have to. You know you do.

This is save the world time,
you taught me that.

- No, Dubbie.
- Hey, boss?

If you're hearing this,
the nanobots are outside the hatch,

and I didn't have enough time to get out
of Ida before the cascade overload

spreads technology-eating robots from space
all over the world.

I just want you to know,

I'm kind of OK.

You taught me that there are things
in life worth dying for.

And I am so glad

I got attacked by that tentacled ass-monster
back at the lab,

and that you framed me
so I'd have to be your sidekick.

Because... I am so proud to be a Middleman.

I'm proud to know you.

And I want you to know

that since my dad disappeared,

you're the closest thing I've had to a father.

I'm honored, Dubbie.

I hope I taught you one more thing.

What?

Never give up.

I don't envy you explaining this one to my mom.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Watson.

But your daughter was shrunk
to the size of a dust mite

and trapped inside an android's brain
by a bunch of

indestructible little robots."

Indestructible. That's it.

Open the hatch. Let the nanobots in.

What are you doing?

When I give the signal, unshrink me.

- You'll be overrun.
- Bring it on.

In five, four.three, two...

Dubbie? -

Dubbie!

Structural integrity compromised.

- Flood the tubes!
- Detonation in five seconds.

Four, three, two...

Contamination neutralized.

Now ending lockdown.

Nanobots as body armor. Nice work.

What are we gonna do with them?

I guess we'll have to build them
a really big circuit to take apart.

- A nanobot habitat?
- I think they'll be happy enough.

Aren't they just gonna try and dismantle
our technology and send us back to the Stone Age?

They're programmed to destroy technology
from the inside out, not the outside in.

- So, they can try, but...
- Plus, they're fun to watch.

Like an ant farm.

You know all those things I said before
when I thought I was going to die?

Well, I meant every word of it.

OK, Tyler. I am making my final approach
to the hotdog stand.???

Arriving in T-minus five, ??

four, three, two...

- Whoa.
- What's the matter, Dubster?

Never had someone buy you a hotdog before?

You must have had an exciting day.

You know. Same old, same old. You?

Just another boring day at the office.

The good news is I now have an office to go to.

You're looking at the official attache, assistant

and aide de camp to Manservant Neville.

Maybe a few other things, too,
we only got to the A's.

- Wow!
- Good wow, or bad wow?

- Are you happy?
- I kinda think I am.

If you're happy, I'm great.

You know I think you're awesome, right?

Like, amazingly awesome.

I don't know.
How awesome is amazingly awesome?

If you were a magazine,
they would call you Tyler Beat.

- Really? That amazingly awesome?
- Really.

Off, then on, then off again.

- Nice try.
- Ida!

Hundreds of years
with the same old Ida.

Think you can wait
until the warranty runs out this time?

You feeling better? Not... homicidal?

Don't push me.

welcome to www.1000fr.com

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