All language subtitles for The Middleman (2008) S01E01 The Pilot Episode Sanction

Geez, Mom, what do you mean what
am I doing in a science lab?

I happen to be working
with the top scientific minds
in the country, Mom. Hold on.

Thank you for calling A.N.D.
Laboratories, rescrambling your
DNA. How may I direct your call?

This is a really
important job, Mom.

As a matter of fact, yes,
lots of art school graduates
get science jobs.

Oh, hold on.

Thank you for calling A.N.D.
Laboratories, rescrambling your
DNA. How may I direct your call?

Yes, Mother,
I'm still dating that guy,

and his name's Ben.

No, he's not a homosexual.

He's in film school. Hang on.

Thank you for calling A.N.D.
Laboratories. I'm connecting your call.

Contamination alert.

Please hold.

Contamination alert.

Alarm systems disengaged.

Excuse me, ma'am, but I am going
to have to ask you to step aside.

The human.

The one on my left.

- Heck of a mess, huh?
- Excuse me?

I said,
"Heck of a mess, huh?"

Whatever. I'm a temp.

Hey, now.
The heat's on its way.

OK, cowgirl,
here's your marching orders.

Anyone asks, this was a gas main
explosion. I was never here.

This conversation
never took place.

Marching orders? What about
the hentai tentacle monster?

Tell the truth if you want.
If you do, I'll have to root
you like a hog and kill you.

Sorry. So, what's it going to
be? Keep the secret or death?

What do you think?

Ma'am, specificity is the soul
of all good communication.

Yes. Duh.

Outstanding.
You're good under pressure.

- Are you hitting on me?
- Just making an observation.

Hello! Nutjob, party of one.

No, ma'am.

I'm just The Middleman.

- Are you all right?
- Yeah.

What you're saying

is somebody whacked the entire
Spaldoni Organization?

Just like I said an hour ago.
Huge bloodbath.

Gonna be front
page tomorrow morning.

But I did not give the order
to wipe out the Spaldoni family.

That is an order
that I did not give.

OK, Don Colfari,

if you didn't give the order,
then what does that mean?

That would mean someone
had to give the order.

- Someone that was not me.
- So maybe we oughta
find who it was.

- So they don't come and whack us.
- Exactly.

It's like playing Mad Libs
with guns.

The police said the explosion
was caused by a lighter,

a polished silver Zippo lighter
with a DC-3 airplane engraving.

- My dad's lucky lighter?
- So you know something about it.

Oh, you don't think that...

Oh, come on. I was just
fidgeting with that lighter.

It's like an OCD thing...
only different.

OK, look.

I have three credit cards
about to pop at the seams

and my mother's on me 24-7
to quit painting,
move back to Orlando,

meet a good man, eat fried food,
swell up like a tick

and start squeezing out calves
like Elsie mainlining fertility
drugs. We understand each other?

Until we can be certain that one
of our temps didn't burn down
her last place of employment

while playing with fire,
there's nothing I can do.

A: when my father's DC-3
tragically crashed under

as of yet unexplained
and mysterious circumstances,

I swore that I would never lose
the only memento he left behind,

which brings me straight to B:
I did not cause that explosion.

- Can't find your lighter?
- Want the truth?

Those idiots were working
on some whacked-out
genetic experiment

that went bonkers,
and this monster made out
of body parts attacked me.

This Middleman guy showed up
and told me he'd kill me.

Sorry, ma'am, I warned you.

I get it. Thank you.

- Yo, Wendy Watson.
- Hey, Noser.

- Who's the man?
- That would be Shaft, Noser.

- What kinda man?
- A complicated man.

- And who understands him?
- No one but his woman.

Right on.

Hey, Lacey,
what's this crud on my Xbox?

Can you describe the crud?

Oh, that's just fake blood.

My animal liberation group
is demonstrating in front
of the Lapin Grill� tomorrow.

I'll be throwing buckets
of that on the restaurant.

Just wait
till it dries off.

OK, well, if you break this,
you bought it.

I was just about to crack
the Slovakian torture dungeon
level on Gut Wrencher 3.

How can you play those games?
They're so testosterone-y.

Why would you throw blood
at a French bistro?

Do you know what
Lapin Grill� means?

Uh, the Broiled Rabbit?

Wow. Glad I can tick
that cause off my list.

I'm a confrontational spoken
word performance artist.

I confront. I speak.

Art.

What do you do, Dub-Dub?

Well, I save the world
in my own way.

Did I get any calls?

Your mom called
to ask if you're a lesbian.

And Ben called. He wants to come
later. Has a surprise for you.

Did he say anything about world
travel, champagne or diamonds?

What's it like
being somebody's beard?

He's in film school.

Oh, this weird
temp agency called.

"The Jolly Fats Wehawkin
Temp Agency?"

- Never heard of them.
- Wanna see you immediately.

- Like right now immediately?
- Yup.

Well, then wish me luck.

You're going like that?

I'm way over my daily
recommended allowance

for corporate booty kissing.

If they want me now,
they're shopping at
the As Is department.

- Wendy Watson?
- Who wants to know?

Don't get fresh with me, missy,
I'll split your lip.

What kind of temp
agency is this?

Kind that wants to put you in
the satisfying and high-paying
world of temporary employment.

- You wouldn't mind
taking some tests first?
- Tests?

What are you, paralyzed
from the neck up? Move it.

So, what's next,
target practice?

Obstacle course?
Cavity search?

Don't let your pie-hole talk you
out of a job, young lady.

Wendy Watson...

...meet your new boss.

Evening, ma'am.

Is this the part where
I ask who the hell you are
and what the hell you do?

My, we've got our skivvies
in a bunch. Lights.

I'm The Middleman.
You've met Ida.

This temp agency is a recruitment
front for our organization.

Didn't your tests tell you
I have issues with authority?

I told you
she'd be no good.

Can it, Yoda.
We're talking.

I wouldn't go so far
as to refer to myself
as an authority figure.

I'm more like
an independent contractor.

What's that mean? You build
strip malls? Kill people? What?

I'd never build strip malls.
I solve exotic problems.

Define exotic.

Well, you ever read
comic books?

Yeah, I think Jughead's
a real hoot.

Powers, Fell, Astro City,
The Spirit, X-Men,

old school, not Ultimate.
Mouse Guard and The Flash.

Barry Allen or Wally West?

Do you want me to leave?

You know how in comic books
there's all kinds
of mad scientists

and aliens and androids
and monsters,

and all of them want to either
destroy or take over the world?

In comic books? Sure.

- Well, it really
does work like that.
- Get out.

You already
forgot what you saw?

And you're the superhero?

- I never wear tights.
- I'm crushed.

Can I ask you a question?
Was it you or me who took
the stupid pills this morning?

Now that's just rude.

Dragging me here to answer
the brown courtesy phone isn't?

This is a waste.
She's a slacker.

- Have you been helped?
- Don't mind her,
she's had the crankies

ever since her
appearance processor got stuck
on Domineering Schoolmarm 2.0.

- English?
- Ida.

Trippy.

Dagnabit,
that's why you're here!

You witnessed something out
of the parameters of reality
and didn't flinch.

Observe.

How'd you film that?

Real time situation
recording archive.

- Why, of course.
- Look right there.

That slimy tendril grabs you,
and what do you do?

- Grab a letter opener
and stab it.
- Exactly.

90 percent of the population
would have dumped their cargo

and screamed
before becoming lunch.

9.5 percent would have
keeled dead of a heart attack.

But not you. You accepted
the reality of the monster,

took the necessary steps
to survive, and your stress
levels remained normal.

Ten bucks says
she's smoking reefer.

Does Rosie have
an off switch?

A high threshold
for the unexplainable

and reflex to
fight off extra-normal danger

makes you a perfect candidate
for our organization.

- Can you handle a firearm?
- I happen to be a pacifist.

I'm telling you,
she's a hophead.

Calluses on the thumb
and index finger. Xbox.

Judging by the distribution,
I'm guessing Raging Carnage,

Primal Combat, and Gut
Wrencher 3 are your favorites.

You probably have better
hand-eye than a bush sniper.

- How are your
martial arts skills?
- Nonexistent.

Ida, schedule her
a three-month intensive
with Sensei Ping.

Buy him first class airfare
this time. The flight from
Wuhan makes him real surly.

I don't want a three-month
intensive with Sensei Ping.

I'm an artist. I only want
to temp so I can paint.

Well, gosh. Don't you
want to fight evil?

Monsters, robots, aliens?

Not if I have to join the
paramilitary version of Amway.

This is a tremendous opportunity
for someone of your skills.

Skills? I avoided a giant rectum
and got rejected by every
temp agency in town

'cause the cops think my dad's
lucky Zippo caused an explosion.

Sorry about the Zippo. That
was just a recruitment tactic.

You gave the cops the Zippo?

Sensei Ping's on his way,
first class.

You framed me.

I needed to make sure
you'd come here.

The money cleared
for the Italian restaurant job
on Arthur Avenue.

They want you there
on the double.

I loved that lighter.

If you join up, I won't frame
you for anything else again.

- Scout's honor.
- Go to hell.

You owe me a dollar.

- Yo, Wendy Watson.
- Hey, Noser.

Feeling kinda hungry.

- Hungry like the wolf?
- Nope.

- Hungry heart?
- Nope.

- Hungry eyes.
- Nope.

Hungry hippos.

You're the only one
who gets me.

Yo, Dub-Dub.

Gotta hit the joystick, Lacey,
I got some serious aggression
to work out.

Speaking of joysticks,
Ben's here.

Ben! Cool!

God, am I happy
to see you.

If my day sucked any harder,
I'd be inside out.

Hey, buddy.

Buddy?

Buddy.

OK, this is usually the
part where you kiss me back.

What's with the camera?
Are we making a movie?

Uh... I guess
you could say that.

Kinky. Should I bust out the
feather boa and the accordion?

It's not like that.

See, my friend Eddie
came along.

Whoa. Hideous kinky.
Hi, Eddie.

Eddie's taking
Professor Howard's
cin�ma v�rit� class with me.

- The class you're flunking?
- Yeah.

Professor says it's 'cause
I don't have pain in my life.

- I could punch you.
- No, it's not that kinky.

Fire it up, Eddie.

I just think that you
and I should, you know,

be... just friends.

You're breaking up with me
for a class project?

How does that
make you feel?

We've been dating for a year.

You said the "L" word
that one time!

I was drunk.

Does that hurt?
Tell the camera.

This is painful for me, too,
you know. I'm the victim here.

My dad's a lawyer,
we have money.

I've never worked for anything,
no pain in my life.

The professor stood me in front
of the class and said that.

You have any idea
how that stings, to know

that you have
no hurt on the inside?

So you want
to know what it's like
to have pain in your life.

Fair enough.

- Ow!
- How's that, huh?

Showing you a bit
about the meaning of pain

- or do you need more?
- That's a digital camera!

You... You are psychotic!

You still don't get it,
do you?

Get out!

FBI. Nightshift.

Want a donut?

That would ruin
my appetite, officer.

Excuse me.

This kid says
she's with you.

Special Agent Watson. Slacking
off the dress code, I see.

Oh, I don't do dress code
after sundown.

It's bad apples like you that
put Mr. Hoover in a dress.

Yeah, she's on the job.

Ida had this address on her
desk. Photographic memory?

- Abstract expressionist.
- Swell.

Last time we talked
you weren't exactly... nice.

Why the attitude
adjustment?

I heard you take care
of exotic problems.

Define exotic.

No job. No money.

No sense of reality,
now that I know comic book
evil roams the world.

Shoot. That is
an exotic problem.

- I heard when evil strikes,
you're there to cover it up.
- Nice one.

You said you'd shoot me
if I told anybody about
that monster I saw.

- Test of honesty.
- How?

What makes more sense? That
a monster trashed a science lab
or that a gas main exploded?

If I hadn't planted your Zippo,
some normal would have come up
with a rational explanation.

People want to believe
reality's normal.
Ones who don't are freaks.

No one believes
them anyway.

Who do you work for?

I got recruited
the exact same way you did.

When the last Middleman
hired me, he never said
and I never asked.

Ida was already there, so were
all the weapons and gadgets.

Sometimes a box comes in
with more weapons and gadgets.

I don't know where
they come from, they just do.

Maybe Ida runs the show,
maybe it's "the conspiracy",
maybe it's God.

I'm just The Middleman.

Doggone cops.
Always miss the big clues.

A banana peel?

Someone's eliminating mobsters
in an algorithmic way.

The pattern suggests
an advanced intelligence.
Far more sinister than wiseguys.

Define sinister.

You want to know,
you gotta sign up.

Yeah, why not?

Get over here.
You've got a piece?

Nah, he looks clean, boss.

I heard you saw the killer.

- You'll never believe what I saw.
- You wanna tell?

It was...

It was...

No!

- Whoa, freaky.
- That Ida doubles as a scanning electron microscope?

That you hired me to be a superhero
and I'm staring at a computer.

That's how most crimes get
solved. Don't you watch TV?

Heads up, we got a live one.

- Jiminy!
- Jiminy what?

DNA match for genetically
engineered ape spit.

Don't point that at me. I don't
want to have a flipper baby.

Only one place in town
that could have come from.

Let's kick the tires
and light the fires.

Hey! Anybody want
to unplug me?

Morons.

We don't get many visitors from
the Department of Sanitation.

That's why they call them
surprise inspections, Dr. Gibbs.

My associate and I are going
to have a look around.

Man has climbed Mount Everest,

gone to the bottom
of the ocean.

He's fired rockets
to the moon, split the atom,

achieved miracles in every
field of human endeavor.

Oh, no. It's Gorilla Grodd.
Run for your life.

Hardly. These western
lowland gorillas
are genetically engineered.

Their higher brain functions are
controlled by one of the most
complex computers in the world.

Next to them, most people
have the IQ of an oyster.

Genius primates. Because that's
a problem that needed solving.

And what do
we have over here?

This is Zippy.

We had to boost
his IQ three times

to get him to stop
painting those damn soup cans.

Not bad
for a classical realist.

- Art snob.
- Uh, what about this one?

Spanky was one of our failures.
We don't like to talk about him.

You wanna take a look?

You can't go in there.
Stop. You can't go in.

- See anything hinky?
- Define hinky.

You define hinky.

OK.

You see that spot over there,

where the paint
doesn't quite match?

- Are you coming or not?
- Well, dag diggety.

- I had no idea!
- What the heck were
you teaching Spanky?

How to pilot space shuttles.

Because again, that's
a problem that needed solving.

I've never
even seen this place.

How does an experimental primate
get Scarface, Goodfellas
and The Sopranos?

All of our apes
have mail order
and Internet privileges.

But we should have seen this.

Spanky's mind
is controlled by the mainframe,
like all subjects.

Swell. Where's Spanky now?

Spanky never did learn how to
control the re-entry simulator.

His pod tore through
the laboratory ceiling
and crash-landed miles away.

It was a tragic loss.

He sleeps with the fishes.

Spanky must have found a way
to break free from that computer
and escape from Simionics.

But Gibbs said
he died in re-entry.

Maybe Spanky crashed that pod
to cover his escape. We have
to find him lickedy-split.

How about we let Spanky
keep killing wiseguys?

Isn't he
doing the world a solid?

Who would you rather have
earning millions of dollars
from the rackets in this city?

A lunkhead goombah who'll
blow it on showgirls,

shiny suits and Greek
marble nudie statues,

or a supergenius primate
with knowledge of computer
systems and astroscience?

- Put it that way.
- Listen up.

Been fun and games up till now.
There's something
about you I must know.

- Yeah?
- You like country?

- What is this place?
- Andolini Social Club.

The City's most notorious den
of wiseguys.

Do you have a death wish?

Cut out the twang, Gomer.

Time to mount up.

You're not just gonna
waltz in and ask them
to rat out the big boss?

Yes, ma'am.

Right after I slide up
to the bar and order me
a tall glass of milk.

Did you skinny dip
in the stupidity pond?

I... I'm not going
in there.

I didn't ask you to.
The path I walk, I walk alone.

- Keep it warm, Dubbie.
- Dubbie?

Oh, I almost forgot.
There's some things
I need you to hold onto.

You're going unarmed?

Didn't I tell you
how I got this job?

Oh, well,
just be careful with that.

Come over here!

Hurry up, Charlie!

Hi, there.

- Milk?
- Uh, no.

Too bad.
Good for the bones.

This is our
new friend, Tino.

- Say hello, Tino.
- How you doin'?

Tino runs all the rackets.
Only way he's still alive is if
he's in good with the new boss.

- Right?
- I'm not opening my mouth!

I think I'll have
myself some milk.

You want to put that back
for me? Thanks.

What were we talking
about when I left?

You were going to tell me
why you got this job.

Right.
See, I was a Navy SEAL.

You know, they teach us
over 456 ways of causing pain.

I want a lawyer!
I got rights!

Know what? That was some
darn fine cow squirt.

Son of a bitch!

Anyway,

my team got stuck in a colossal
hairy furball back in the Gulf.

This jerk C.O. radios for me to
bug out and leave my men behind.

So I did what any
self-respecting squid would do.

I saved my men, got back to base
and kicked the crud
out of that little weasel.

Pardon my French.

- Wanna talk?
- Go to hell!

I am parched.
I could use another cool,
refreshing drink of milk.

All right! All right!

I'll talk! The big boss
set up shop at a strip joint
over the bridge.

But no one's ever laid eyes
on him. That's all I'm saying!

- I got rights!
- Oh, you got rights.

After we're finished,
I'm driving you to the FBI

and you're gonna rat out
every wiseguy and scam
you're aware of, capisce?

And get myself plugged?
No way!

Why don't you keep Tino company
while I get myself a refill?

Wait! I'll talk.
I'll do it. I'll do it.

So you hit
your commanding officer?

I have issues with authority.

Tell the senator
that he can have my answer now.

My offer is this:
nothing.

Not even the fee
for the gaming license,

which I would appreciate
if he put up personally.

Hey.

Hey, boss, someone's
messing with our security.

You, check it out!
You, get me a banana.

The jig is up, Spanky.

Say hello to my little friend!

Tino's turned state's evidence.

Right now he's with
the Federales and warblin'
like Patsy Cline.

Time to stop acting
like a mobster
and start acting like an ape.

Just when I thought I was
out, they pull me back in.

- Nothing personal, monkey boy.
- Just business.

I'm never going back
to prison!

Jeepers!

- I gotta ask something.
- Yeah?

How can a Navy SEAL not cuss? You're
all "darn" and "jeepers" and "criminy."

What's up with that?

Profanity cheapens the soul
and weakens the mind.

Maybe, but every once in a while
you could let out a...

or a...

You kiss your mother
with that mouth?
Huh, garbage mouth?

Yes, you.

Uh-huh.

- Oh...
- What?

OK, this isn't a problem.
We can still find the big boss

'cause he's wearing
one of those, uh...

Strap-on electronic
voice boxes?

Sleep with one eye open. That
gun-totin' ape's still at large.

I'm still
not talking to you.

Apes throw feces, Dubbie.
It's a fact of life.

Quit calling me ..ing Dubbie.

Yo, Wendy Watson. What is
that mighty mighty girl?

- A brick house.
- What is she doing?

Letting it all...

Uh-oh.

- Alert.
- You have a gun on you, Noser?

War is not the answer, Wendy.
Only love can conquer hate.

What is going on?

Yeee-ahh!

- Ow! You hit me on the head!
- Are you bat guano insane?

- Man, my axe!
- Sorry.

- Why does it smell like monkey poop in here?
- What do you want?

I just... you know,

wanted to say that I'm sorry
about that whole movie thing.

I'm such a dolt.

I thought that
it would be art.

Seemed like
a good idea at the time.

So did the Carter
administration.

I looked at the tape,
and watching you throw things

reminded me of that time
we accidentally overturned
that chestnut roaster

on Madison Avenue and the vendor
started screaming in Spanish...

And he started throwing stuff
and we had a chestnut war.

It made me miss you.

So I wanted
to say I'm sorry

and to ask what it would
take for you to take me back.

Incoming!

Ow!
You're breaking my arm!

Hey, now! Violence!

- Let him go, he's OK.
- You sounded the alarm.

Not 'cause of him.
Ben, are you OK?

Ben?
The video camera guy?

I oughta crack your skull for
that, you coffee-house beatnik.

Where'd you dig up
this jarhead?

Dub-Dub, who's your boyfriend?

He's not my boyfriend.
He's my boss.

Really? Lacey Thornfield.
Charmed.

Delighted, ma'am.

You know,
I'm a conceptual artist.

Some have said that
about me, too.

Do I have to hose you down?

And you two
hormone jockeys, outside.

Holy... A gorilla!

I... I swear I saw
a gorilla holding a gun!

Get a hold of yourself!
What's easier to believe?

A gorilla with a gun, or a big
hairy guy doing a drive by?

The big hairy guy.

B... Big hairy guy.

- Yeah.
- You could have
mentioned the hostile.

I would have, had you not
barged in and started hitting
on my roommate

and beating up my boyfriend.

- I'm still your boyfriend?
- What do you think?

I'll take care
of the big hairy guy.

You're getting paid
more than nine an hour
for this job, right?

- Where's the big boss?
- Pondering his evil ways.

- Look what I found.
- You smashed his voice box.

Where'd he get a new one
with the lab's trademark?

Either he snuck back into the
lab and stole a new voice box...

Or he never escaped
and Dr. Gibbs lied to us.

I bet all the secrets
are locked up

in that mind control
computer of hers.

- I better mosey on down there.
- What about me?

You've seen more harm's way
than an untrained operative
should have to.

Hold it right there, Tex.
I've been shot at,

I've been pelted with ape dung,
you practically
killed my boyfriend.

- He's a doorknob.
- Now you're leaving me behind?

This is re-gosh-darn-diculous.

You weren't dying
to go into that mob hangout.

Yeah, but I had a choice
in that. So rule number one:

Never, ever give the
"A man's gotta do
what a man's gotta do" speech

before you strap
on your six-guns
and leave me at the ranch

making tea with Ida
the pruneface android.

Two: you don't crack
my boyfriend's skull.

And three: You don't date
my roommate. Got it?

Now, that's just mean.
I'm single.

- I'm eligible.
- Just drive.

Are you ashamed of me?

Is there a reason we're
rappelling to the computer?

Should be able to access the
mainframe through this IO port.

Feel that?

Kind of a strange,
tugging feeling.

Whoa! Ow!

Get your filthy paws off of me,
you damn dirty ape!

I knew you weren't from
the Department of Sanitation.

Gibbs, you were the one who sent Spanky to
kill us, the one who let him out of the car.

It was you.

Drop the gun or her
turns her into scrapple.

You've been controlling
the big boss. Of course I have.

These apes don't have a single
thought that I don't control
through this computer.

Drop it, before your associate
knows what it feels like
to be a banana.

I don't get it.
Why the Mob?

Money. Fast, tax-free cash money.
This is a federally funded lab.

Every year the government is less and
less interested in making smarter apes,

and every year
they slash my budget.

- Without money,I will never fulfill my dream.
- What dream?

To build an army of genetically
engineered apes...

...and take over the world.

Let her go, Blofeld, or your
secret lair's a grease stain.

Don't be stupid.
You're low-hanging fruit.

- Spanky's a surgeon
with that gun.
- He might as well shoot.

If there's one thing I hate
more than scientists trying
to take over the world,

it's scientists who twist
innocent primates with
computer-enhanced mind control

to live out their
sick and perverted
fantasies of criminal power.

Ventilate him.

Computer shutdown.

- No!
- Computer shutdown.

Put 'em up, Gibbs.

And no more monologue-ing or I
Swiss-cheese you on principle.

I tell you.
Some chucklehead's always
trying to take over the world.

Is it true, what you said?

If there's one thing you hate
more than scientists trying
to take over the world,

it's scientists who twist
innocent primates with
computer-enhanced mind control

to live out sick and perverted
fantasies of criminal power?

Why would I lie
about that?

That is a very specific
thing to hate.

Self-knowledge is
the gateway to freedom.

What happens now?

Stick Dr. Evil
with a tranquilizer dart,

put the gun that killed
those mobsters in her hand

and let Johnny Law
to do the algebra.

But what about Spanky
and his gang?

I mean, they're just innocent
apes who got kidnapped,
experimented on,

mindfrakked by a supercomputer
and forced to do evil.

They didn't know
what they were doing. They
don't deserve to live in a lab.

Our work on this planet is done.
We're just The Middleman.

- Can I make a call?
- It's a free country.

Hey, Lacey, it's me.

About those animal liberation
dudes you've
been hanging with.

A federally funded lab
was disgraced

and a leading
researcher arrested

when animal rights activists
exposed illegal mind control
experiments.

The apes in this lab
are being returned to the wild

by an animal rescue
organization, and it's all
because of this young activist.

The moment we heard about
the egregious abuses
of these so-called scientists,

we alerted the
authorities.

Now these defenseless apes
will go to a safe sanctuary

back in the wilderness
where they belong.

Right. Now, can you tell us why
you're carrying that sign?

Uh, French cuisine
kills bunnies.
French cuisine kills...

I gotta hand it to you.

I had no idea your roommate
was so well connected in the
primate liberation community.

You did outstanding
work tonight.

Yeah, sure I did.

- You disagree?
- Ever read comics?

As a matter of fact,
I think Jughead is a real hoot.

Ever read Batman?

Well, the Joker had a nickname
for Batman's sidekick.
"Robin, the boy hostage."

That's very clever.

I was held at gunpoint
by a gorilla while you did
your Dudley Do-Right thing.

Maybe the next time
I want to handle something
by myself you'll listen.

I wouldn't count on it.

Then I'll just tie you
to the car.

Oh, yes, I would.

Oh, and, uh,
one more thing, Dubbie.

You're not gonna stop
calling me Dubbie, are you?

Not a gosh-darn
chance in heck.

Yeah, as a matter of fact, Mom,
I do have a brand new job.

Yeah, it's... it's more
of a freelance thing.

Yeah, I get plenty of time
to paint and a great workout.

My boss?

You'd really like him.

He's into guns,
just like dad.