All language subtitles for The Middleman (2008) S01E05 The Flying Fish Zombification

Previously on
The Middleman:

This the part where I ask you
who the hell you are

- and what the hell you do?
- Our mandate is protect people from threats,

infra, extra
and juxtaterrestrial.

Not to become consumed with the
mundane problems of everyday life.

Dub-Dub, who's your boyfriend?

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

Hi, Wendy's boss.

Apparently you have
something for me.

Oh, this is for you?

My skin thanks you kindly,
Lacey, as do I.

Ahh!

Sensei Ping is the most
lethal man alive.

Since he has agreed to train me
into a killing machine

to be a better sidekick, there
are three things I must remember.

I'm a confrontational
spoken word performance artist.

I confront. I speak.

- What do you do, Dub-Dub?
- I'm a visual artist.

I am your best friend.

Wow, Mom.
Exiled Cuban tenors. Yeah.

I'll make sure I'm watching
Canal Cinco this Friday at nine.

Yeah, Mom. Actually I am writing
Aunt Sarita a thank you note

for that "Little Havana is for Lovers"
needlepoint throw pillow this very second.

Yes Mother, I am very aware of
how difficult it is to needlepoint

when you have
plantar fasciitis.

What was her address again?

...Drive, yeah.

Got it. I'll put it
in the mail right now.

OK. Gotta run. Love you.

Have you said thank you today?
For the fact that your mother...

I assume that by "your mother" you
mean Dr. Barbara Thornfield MD, PhD.

That Dr. Barbara Thornfield MD,
PhD has a full and interesting life

and doesn't need
to micro-manage yours?

For the fact she only calls once a year and
that's to rationalize for missing my birthday?

Could you hand me that lid over there
to close that can of worms I just opened?

You're the lucky one,
Dub-Dub.

Phone calls, care packages,
greeting cards...

Well, I guess I do love her in
all her hectoring Latina glory.

When was the last time you talked to
Dr. Barbara Thornfield MD, PhD, anyway?

Knife. Twisting.

If she's finished heading that pediatric
cardiac surgery unit in the Ukraine,

maybe you could
invite her to Art Crawl.

Yeah, right, 'cause I'm sure that
Dr. Barbara Thornfield, MD, PhD

is just dying to come to an
art show hosted by her daughter,

her cynical roommate
and their bohemian friends.

- I'm ironic, not cynical.
- You're on peyote.

Seriously,
what's the harm in asking?

We created Art Crawl so we could
show our work off to the world.

Why shouldn't Dr. Barbara Thornfield,
MD, PhD get to be here at least once

to bear witness
and have some grain punch?

- Art crawl!
- Art crawl!

Hello, may I speak to Dr.
Thornfield? It's her daughter.

She only has one.

Lacey... Thornfield.

Yes, I'll hold.

- Lacey?
- Dr. Thornfield?

Hey, it's me. So I know I
haven't spoken to you in forever,

but I've actually been thinking of you
a lot and I'm performing tonight at...

Oh, I'm sorry.

I thought you were my mom.

Yes, I'll continue to hold.

One month the theme was
Art Crawl Department Store,

and our floor was women's intimates, so
Lacey and I hung bras from the ceiling

and I get the feeling
you don't share my enthusiasm.

Then I'm wearing
the right expression.

I wish I had time to prepare you for
your first session with Sensei Ping.

- He's trying to say it's been nice knowing you.
- It's not gonna be that bad.

The man loves pain and suffering
like tornadoes love trailer parks.

I get it, I get it, it's like
Bruce Lee coming back from the dead.

And beating you
with his own coffin.

Sensei Ping has destroyed
a hundred wannabe Middlemen.

He'll cut you down
like Satan's gnarly fist.

Really? You mean
I could fail out of this?

Dubbie. You're my hand-picked.
I know you'll do well in there.

I'm here to support you
every step of the way.

You did sign a living will,
right?

- Ida!
- Sensei Ping made you cry.

- He did?
- Yeah.

And the big green cheese
is supposed to be

Sensei Ping's
favorite apprentice.

- He made you cry?
- In times of extreme stress,

crying is an inevitable
physiological response.

Sure it is, cupcake.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

I'm devoid of human emotion
and that made me want to wince.

You should have been more
supportive of her.

The psychological advantage
is crucial.

Oh, sure. I'll get to it,
after I powder your diaper.

That's it. We lost her.

I'll get the bugle and the flag.

That was awesome!

That was the best thing ever!

The teaching!
The learning!

The laughter!
The bonding!

I swept the leg.

I guess Sensei Ping's
got a new favorite.

* Middleman **

I thought the chances of Dr.
Barbara Thornfield, MD, PhD

making a same day appointment
were one in negative one.

It was so weird. I called,
I held for like 45 minutes

and then I asked
and she said yes.

You just blew my mind.

Almost didn't happen, too. At first Francis
busted into the line and said she couldn't come.

- Who's Francis?
- Her assistant.

Your mom's assistant listens in
to your conversations?

She always has someone
monitoring her calls

in case Henry Kissinger's
trying to reach her.

Oh, right, Kissinger.
My bad.

So he mentioned something about some
sort of honorary degree in Abu Dhabi

and then Dr. Barbara Thornfield, MD,
PhD said to reschedule the flight.

She's never rescheduled
for me.

I hope this doesn't mean
she's dying.

Oh look, it's my...

Weird work-related video pager that
no other temp I've ever seen has?

Exactly. Do you mind if I...

Call Sexy-Bossman's crabby
assistant? Nope. Be my guest.

I'll get hooks.

Hey, Ida. Can this wait?

- Sure thing, sweetie. Catch you later.
- Really?

No. Drop the fattie
and get over here.

Some chicky just went
monkey fudge on her husband.

They were taking a camping trip
for their honeymoon

- and she attacked him with an RV.
- Driving?

- Throwing.
- Wince.

Right before she tried
eating his flesh.

- I'll be right there.
- Oh, thank heavens.

I think we should hang the
gun-toting ape outside the door.

I might have to do
the hanging later because...

Something came up at work.

- ... something came up at work.
- I didn't see that coming.

- I'm not ditching Art Crawl.
- Better not.

Lacey, Art Crawl is my mecca. I'm just gonna
take care of some stuff and I'll run back home.

- Art Crawl!
- Art Crawl!

A woman could throw an RV at her husband
for several reasons. Perhaps it was steroids.

Perhaps she was bitten by a bat

with a new and powerful strain
of rabies. Perhaps...

Perhaps she realized her husband
took her camping for their honeymoon.

Camping is a perfectly viable alternative
to expensive international travel.

Sure, Opie,
whatever you say.

My point is, I don't think
it was any of the above.

The way this story is unfolding,
the rural setting,

the civilian who suddenly turns
into a ravenous flesh eater...

My gut says we may be dealing with the
seminal stages of a zombie outbreak.

Entrail-ripping,
brain-chewing zombies?

- The very same.
- Cool.

Dubbie, there is nothing cool
about zombies.

- Mr. Argent?
- Hey.

Miss Blunstone and I
are claims adjusters

with Time of the Season
Unlimited Mutual.

- Would you mind telling us how you got here?
- Sure.

Bonnie Blue and me took the
turnpike as far as Bristoltown,

then decided the mountains would look
nicer from the parkway, so we cut over...

- Why don't you start with last night?
- Oh. Well.

I'd caught and cleaned
up a couple of trout for dinner.

Had trout gore all over me.

Anyway, Bonnie was washing up
by the pond.

But she came back all scary.

Gray skin, yellow eyes,
sharp teeth

and green slime
shot out her mouth.

- Ahh.
- She tackled me.

Felt heavier than a fridge.
With a sink in it.

That didn't seem right. She's tiny.
But we rolled around like that.

Her trying to chew my face off.

Me trying to keep her
from chewing my face off.

Finally I whacked her with a log
from the fire and ran to the woods.

That's when the camper came crashing over
the trees. This really isn't like her.

Mr. Argent, I must ask you something very
important now. Did Bonnie Blue bite you?

- Before or after going nuts?
- Uh, I'm guessing after.

Miss Blunstone, would you please
draw the curtain?

I hate this part of the job.

Uh... did I miss something?

That man's wife is a zombie
and she bit him.

If he's not a zombie yet,
it's not far off.

He displays all the signs:
distant, lethargic, emotionless.

- I think that's called morphine.
- You've seen movies, Dubbie.

Zombies beget zombies. The only way to stop
them is to completely destroy the brain.

Come on, isn't there
something else?

Do you have any idea how serious
a zombie outbreak is?

A Middleman died in a zombie outbreak,
to come back from the dead as a zombie.

His Middleman-in-training
had to shoot him.

- You want to shoot me?
- No.

We have to stop the outbreak
before it starts,

by putting one between this man's
eyes, we will save countless lives.

Oh, God, please don't kill me!

Congratulations, sir. Zombies lack
any sense of self-preservation,

which means you are
definitely not a zombie.

You're not gonna shoot me?

Completely unnecessary.
Get well soon!

You are certifiable.

You just threatened to kill
that innocent, defenseless man.

I had to know he wasn't a zombie,
Dubbie, and time is of the essence.

As Sensei Ping always says, "The goat
who tarries is a friend of death. "

But he also says the badger
shouldn't bare its teeth

when peace
sits at the tea table.

He said that to you?

Is that some kind of a big deal?

It's an "aces high according
to Hoyle" fantastic deal.

What is it, Ida?

Zombie attack in progress.
Just outside of town.

Flowers for Algernon!
We're on our way.

What is it, Noser?

Pip's being all
territorial again.

Yo Pip, hands off Wendy's stuff.

I have to make room
for my paintings.

You're not hanging your
paintings outside my door.

- You have wall space on the fifth floor.
- No one ever goes there.

Not my fault you drew a place next to a
guy who makes creepy phallic sculptures.

Now put Wendy's stuff back
and sweep out the elevator.

Think you might want to be
a little easier on Pip?

His dad does own the building.

Sorry for snapping, Pip.

You can hang one painting.

How about your nude
self-portrait?

- That's my sister.
- Hey now. Awkward.

So, you hear about
who's coming to Art Crawl?

Dr. Barbara Thornfield MD,
PhD?

- I thought she was disarming landmines in Bosnia.
- No.

That was last year.

What are you gonna do
for Art Crawl?

- Stump the Band.
- Stump the Band!

I wanted to retire it, but Stump the Band
has become something greater than myself,

and it will not be denied.

Hey, Lacey, since you two
are doing spoken-word,

I should perform my epic
monologue, "Hey, Mr. God. "

Mmm.
Mm-mmm.

I've got gluten-free
bread to bake.

Oh! Hey, Noser, make sure you wear your
purple jacket tonight. It's adorable.

Yeah. You heard the lady.
Adorable.

Art Crawl, baby.

Art Crawl.

Ladies and gentlemen, we're from
the Atkinson Memorial Insane Asylum.

Please move away from
the building.

- Which way do we go?
- In situations like this folks are running from danger.

That makes our job easy.
Run toward it.

Trout!

- Did that woman just say trout?
- I was gonna ask you.

Trout!

- Help me put her in the car.
- How do we know she's out for the long haul?

One great session with Sensei
Ping doesn't make you Sonny Chiba.

I just wanna make sure Bride of Frankenstein
doesn't go crazy on us at 64 miles an hour.

I juiced this lady with enough
tranquilizer to take down a Bengal elephant.

Trout!

Two Bengal elephants.

Trout.

This is a real head-scratcher,
Dubbie.

I've seen every kind of zombie and
they always crave the same thing:

the flesh of the living. Never
once have I seen a zombie demand...

- Trout.
- Maybe it means "brains" in another language.

Not in any of the 18 Earth
languages in which I'm fluent.

- Can't we just feed her trout?
- Would you give a dope fiend their fix?

- Don't answer that.
- It might stop her cravings, but it's not exactly a cure.

Well, at least we have her in our
custody, and the outbreak is contained...

Isn't she cute? She thinks she's gonna get out
in time to hang paint with her bolshie friends.

Guess again. Honeymooner's heart rate's increasing
half a beat every thousand and five seconds.

- Which means?
- Trout.

One: she still has a heartbeat,
so there may just be a way

to pull her back
from her zombified state.

And two: if we don't find an
antidote, her heart's gonna explode

like a sausage casing
full of weasels.

I'm just gonna go ahead and run
Bonnie's blood through HEAL.

That's the Hemo-Electric
Antidote Locator.

- I didn't ask.
- We need to find the cause of this zombification and pronto.

Oh, phooey.

Don't be sad, crumpet.

The art world's loss will be
everyone's gain tonight.

Put a sock in it, Circuit City.
Let's jet.

So, I was thinking, maybe
you should let me drive today.

Why?

Well, you know,
I'm learning, training.

Sensei Ping thinks
I'm pretty good,

and I do have
a Middlemobile of my own.

I don't know
if you're road ready.

We could get into some kind
of high-speed chase situation

Against zombies?

I admire your ambition, But given the spotty
history Middlemen have had with zombies,

I think maybe I should stay
behind the wheel on this one.

Sure, you could do all the driving,
but you know what Sensei Ping says.

The turtledove who grows content
in the nest loses his wings at dawn.

Sensei Ping is a wise man.

So OK, guys, just remember,
there's no valet parking this month

- because Joe 90
lost his license

- Oh, not to the cops.
He literally just lost it.

Also, to cut down on confusion I've made
the recycling into 11 easy categories,

so I better not find any more high density
polyethylene in with the low density stuff.

OK? And that's it.

Keep up the great work, guys.
Go, Art Crawl!

- Art Crawl!
- Yes.

Looking good, Noser.

I've got
the city's best stylist.

- How do I look, Lacey?
- Oh Pip, you're like a little ray of sunshine.

I'm supposed to look dangerous.

Wendy's gonna wish she saw that.

Oh, it's my mom.
Dr...?

What?

Henry Kissinger?
Tonight?

No. No, of course I understand.

What about the Arm of Oblivion?

That the one where you drive your arm straight
out then hook it back into their throat?

Hot diggety dog. Sensei Ping said I was
the first pupil capable of that move.

What about Danger Toes?

- Oh, that one's fun.
- What about the Three Terrors?

- You jealous or something?
- Jealous of what?

You've been grilling me
about Sensei Ping all day.

- I'm proud.
- Proud?

Dubbie,
I selected you for this job.

If you survive Sensei Ping,
I made the right choice.

If you impress Sensei Ping, well then,
that's just a humdinger then, isn't it?

You're not even
a little jealous?

What little mental space I have for
negativity is currently taken up by my concern

for the young bride
whose life we need to save

and the impending zombie
apocalypse facing the world.

- Gosh Ace, then
I'd better drive faster.

Yo.

So, guess who's not coming
to Art Crawl?

- Oh, crap. What happened?
- Henry Kissinger.

That guy. Cambodia.
Chile. Now Art Crawl.

And I guess you hate me too
for making you ask

Dr. Barbara Thornfield MD, PhD
to come.

In that profoundly messed-up way that
the children of narcissistic workaholics

displace their anger from the parents to
the people who truly love them, absolutely.

- Sorry. You holding up OK?
- Yeah.

- But not really?
- Yeah.

- I just wish I didn't care.
- It's only natural to care. She's your mom.

But you know what? You've still got
your friends, and we're your real family.

And if Dr. Barbara Thornfield MD, PhD can't
be bothered to come, it's her stupid loss.

Look, I don't want to nag, but if
work's gonna keep you away tonight,

could you tell me now? I'd rather get my
coping over with before my performance.

Look, I'm coming, OK? I may not
be able to hang my paintings,

but I'm gonna be there
to watch you perform.

In fact,
zombies couldn't keep me away.

You're the best.

- Art Crawl!
- Art Crawl!

So, what are we looking for?

Canisters of radioactive waste,
vats of medical garbage,

anything that would have turned that
poor woman into a trout-craving zombie.

Did you alter your equipment?

Yeah. Pretty cool, huh?

Looks like somebody's jealous.

Nothing is cooler
than standard black.

Except skulls.

Well, I prefer standard black.

Well, you know what Sensei
Ping says about skulls.

Did you mean what
you told Lacey?

You mean about
going to Art Crawl? Yeah.

We should cover as much ground in as short
a period of time so as to insure success.

What is it, Ida?

I've got good news, bad news,
more bad news and worse news.

First the good news. I know what
made our blushing bride a freakazoid.

She got bitten
by a Peruvian Flying Pike.

- Did you say flying pike?
- Whoa!

It's an extremely rare and
dangerous trout predator,

native only to remote regions
of South America.

Completely illegal
to import or breed.

How in the customs agency
did one get up here?

I dunno, but it's a bad sign.

The pike bites anything that
moves, and its venom instantly

turns victims into mindless,
trout-craving zombies.

So it's the venom. That must be why
Bonnie's bite didn't affect her husband.

He had no direct contact
with a pike, just with Bonnie.

- Plinko!
- So have you found an antidote?

Yeah, but there's a catch.
Pun intended.

To make the antidote you'll need
pineal fluid from a Flying Pike.

Gosh darn it, what are my
chances of finding one of those?

In time to keep the blushing bride's
heart in her chest? Slim to none.

And it gets better. For the antidote
to work, it's vital, I repeat vital,

the Flying Pike must be alive.

Right. So if we want to stop a zombie apocalypse
and save the life of an innocent young woman,

we must capture
the fish alive. Got it.

Ida. I'm gonna
have to call you back.

This is terrible.

If by terrible you mean
fantastic, zombie cause destroying,

antidote finding, get me to
Art Crawl goodness, then, yeah.

Dubbie, we needed that extremely rare and
possibly unique Peruvian Flying Pike alive.

It's the only way
to make an antidote.

Don't get all up on my grill.

Like Sensei Ping says,
study the fish's tail

if you want to know
how to move forward.

The Odessey fishery?

I'll be in the car.

Must be enough Peruvian Flying Pike
here to trigger trout zombie armageddon.

- Who'd wanna do that?
- I don't know, but I intend to find out.

Care to tell me
what you're doing here?

Stand back, Dubbie.
I'll handle this.

- Wanna do Pain's River?
- Sensei Ping taught you Pain's River?

- Yeah, like first thing.
- The Pain's River? With the knees and the knuckles?

Do you want to talk about Pain's River or
do Pain's River? I want to see Lacey's show.

Do you want top or bottom?

All right, shotgun-Joe, your
little fish farm's the first stop

on a zombie assembly line and I
wanna know who's pulling the strings.

- No. He'll kill me.
- Who?

Please. I can't.

Sounds to me like someone wants
another trip down Pain's River.

No! Anything but that. He's called
Mr. White. I don't know his first name.

Once a month he sends a truck, picks
up more pike, doesn't tell me why.

He pays cash.
I've never even seen his face.

- Anything else?
- No. That's all I know, I swear.

Sensei Ping says he's never seen a man
who can lie in the face of Pain's River.

- So, are we done here?
- Hardly.

We have to call the Fish and Wildlife
commission and drop a dime on these villains,

collect several pike, take them
back, synthesize an antidote

and save Bonnie Blue
from certain death.

You get on the horn to Fish and Wildlife.
I'm gonna go to the car and get some gloves.

And after that, Art Crawl!

OK guys, there's only time
for a few more songs,

so who wants to try
and Stump the Band?

Kung-Fu Fighting.

Yeah, I know it.

Scream Your Love For Me!

- By that cheesy boy-band?
- I bet he doesn't know it.

Oh, I know it.

All right, who wants the last song?
Let's make it something really hard.

Jessie's Girl.

You don't know it.

Whoa, uh...

No. I know it.

Thank you, thank you
and thank you.

And now for the confrontational spoken
word stylings of Lacey Thornfield.

Whoo!

Lacey, you're on.
Still no sign of Wendy?

- Hey.
- Hey.

So I'm just
gonna go on without you.

I can't keep everybody waiting.
Stump the Band's over.

Come on, Lace. I'm almost done. And
I really want to see you perform.

Can't you just buy me some time?

Fine, but if I put these people through hell
and you don't show up, the stink is on you.

Putting them through hell?
What?

I don't have time to explain.
I gotta go buy you some time.

Is she coming?

Yup, but I need
to buy her some time.

I need a warm-up act.

You mean like me?

Yes, Pip, you can perform
your monologue, "Hey, Mr. God. "

But no spitting on the crowd, and
drop that section about gym class.

I will not be censored.

No spitting, drop the part
about gym class. Got it.

Hey, Mr. God!

Did it work?

Ma'am, can you hear me?

Where am I?

We're with the Centers
For Aquatic Disease Control.

You were brought here after suffering
an Ichtiolyssavirus infection,

but everything is fine now. Just listen
to Ida. She'll take good care of you.

- Ichtiolyssavirus?
- Fish rabies.

Gotta say, boss, I had my doubts, but we
found our pike and we saved Bonnie Blue.

Now do you hear that? It's the
thundering sound of Art Crawl!

Hate to rain on your parade, Dubbie,
but this night is far from over.

We cured fishzilla over there,
what else do we have to do?

The guard at the fish hatchery
said he works for a Mr. White.

Here you'll see the address of
every Mr. White within 200 miles.

So you've narrowed the list
of potential suspects down to...

- ... one thousand and five?
- Spiffy, huh?

But what if he's not
one of those Mr. Whites?

- Or Mr. White's a fake name?
- Chances we'll have to take.

The possibility of worldwide zombie
pandemonium are just too gosh darn high.

Do you want me
to miss Art Crawl?

That's a terrible thing to say.

Yeah, as my punishment for how
well things went with Sensei Ping.

Don't be absurd, Dubbie. The training
experience is highly personal and subjective.

Each student's journey unique.

Yeah. And mine went
uniquely better than yours.

I couldn't be happier you
had a good day with Sensei...

- Don't do that.
- Do what?

"I'm so proud of you, Dubster.
You doing so well with Sensei Ping

is a scrump-diddly
humdinger-ding-dang doo. " Please.

I know you're upset about Art
Crawl, but sometimes that's the job.

I'm fine with the job.
I love the job.

What I don't love is stretching
this out for no reason

other than I smoked you with Sensei
Ping and you have no other way to deal.

I am doing what I do. Focusing on
the mission, which is what you...

You're making work.
Busy work.

If that's what you want to do,
then you live that dream.

Dubbie, the fact that you're good at
what you do is the reason I need you here.

Well, I have friends that need me
and right now your zombie apocalypse

is a lot less real
than what I can do for them.

Hey, Mr. God...

...what about
all the poor people?

Hey, Mr. God, someone sure
has a high opinion of himself.

Hey, Mr. God, what about all the pretty
girls and their prettily painted toenails?

Hey, Mr. God, you ever hear of a
little thing called the Internet?

Hey, Mr. God, what about me?

What'd I miss?

You made it.

- You owe me 20 bucks.
- Why aren't you in costume?

- Waiting for Godot?
- Well, Godot's here,

so let's put on some pretty and
enjoy what's left of this night.

You really bet against me?

Don't be upset, it was
a beat the spread thing.

And I beat the spread.

I can't stop wondering, Ida,
what if she's right?

I don't care.

Am I obsessing over this
potential zombie attack

because deep down I truly feel that
her accomplishment with Sensei Ping

- somehow diminishes my own?
- I don't care.

What if I am penalizing her
without even knowing it?

What if I envy the fact that
she's the kind of person

who can have a full and vibrant social
life and the support of Sensei Ping?

Hold the presses. There's something
you need to know right away.

- Golly, what?
- I don't care.

Wish me luck.

Oh, come on. Seriously?

- It's fine.
Just go break a leg.

Oops. No service.

I am city!

I breathe, I hunger.
If you cut me, do I not bleed?

Why didn't you respond to the
Middlewatch? Or answer my call?

- ... asphalt energy.
- Why are you talking during Lacey's piece?

- This is important.
- It can wait 10 minutes.

You lie the liar believes.

- There is a zombie attack in progress.
- ... cold night of day.

Can I say something without your feeling
compelled to follow up with a lecture?

- The First Amendment's still in force.
- Sometimes this job sucks.

And though my street cleaners
try their hardest,

will they ever wipe
away the stain...

...the blood
of her broken heart?

Trout.

Trout!

Trout! Trout!

Trout!

I hope this chick has good credit
'cause she's replacing this dress.

If zombies take over the world you
won't have much call for fancy clothes.

It's the principle of the thing.
How'd you find her, anyway?

I ran a gamma-cardio-scan of the city,
searching for irregular heartbeats.

Once I ruled out addicts and frat
house skin flick parties, I found Heidi.

- Frat house skin flick parties?
- They're more common than you think.

Heidi here freaked at a rave and tried
to beat a DJ to death with his turntable.

Then she ran to that
convenience store, and well,

you know the story from there.

How come you didn't get
any Slurpee on your uniform?

I was a Navy SEAL.
I know how to stay dry.

- Smurfette's here to see you.
- She might be out a while.

What happened to your dress?

Ah, it's a long story.

I have time.

I'm sorry I left the show.
I really wanted to be there.

I would have never left
if it weren't important.

I gave you like a hundred
chances to say you couldn't come.

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I had to leave.

- Hello, Lacey.
- Hey.

Uh, Wendy,
there's been another...

- Temp-employment related
emergency? - Yes, in fact.

And let me just say how sorry I am to have
pulled Wendy away from your riveting performance.

- Perhaps we could arrange an encore.
- I don't think so.

- Lacey.
- No. I've had it with him and his big muscles

and his pillow lips
and his deep, soulful eyes

and his work-related excuses.

Can we talk
about this in private?

Maybe you ought to.
You know where I'll be.

She's just coming to.

Is everything OK with Lacey?

Um, let's just talk
to the zombie, OK?

Where am I?

- Drunk tank, downtown.
- It's changed since Friday.

- We need to know if you've gone camping.
- Woods are gross.

- Been near any exotic flying fish the last 24 hours?
- No.

- 48?
- These are weird questions.

- Have you eaten fish today?
- No.

- What did you eat today?
- Nothing.

How do you think I poured myself
into this sock?

- You haven't eaten all day?
- No. Just had a can of...

Just a can of...

- What the hell is...?
- It's an energy drink.

The name is four of those exclamational
thingies, but that's how you say it.

There's an empty can in my purse and it
totally tasted like fish. Does that matter?

It smells like Peruvian
Flying Pike and something else.

Trout?

- You can smell that?
- You can't?

Miss, how did you come
to be associated with...?

It's a nightmare. My dad's
all over me to get a job.

I'm like, I want to have fun, and he's
like, you have to be a grown-up now.

- Skip to the job part.
- So I went to this casting call to be a... girl

because the ad says they want pretty girls
with hot bodies, that's me, so I check it out.

And I'm stoked 'cause there's
supposed to be travel,

but the travel part, it's just out in
the country, and I'm like, no thanks.

Between you and me I took
a few cans on my way out.

I tell you it tasted like fish?

It's weird now that I think
about it, because I hate fish,

but I could not get enough
of that. Wish I took more.

So, let's reason this out.
Somehow Peruvian Flying Pike venom

has made itself
into cans of...

So there must be a bad guy out there
who wants a nation full of... zombies,

or someone made a big mistake
at the plant.

A soda that contains both venom that
turns you into a trout-craving fiend

and the trout
to satisfy that craving?

I'm betting bucks to beans
it's a bad guy.

Miss, where was the...
plant located?

This creepy warehouse downtown
with a big... sign on top.

That can of Heidi's
was no mistake.

This whole load of...
is contaminated.

Step away from the truck.

It's the guy
from the fish hatchery.

I'm going to assume you didn't
have a rapid career transition

from fishery guard
to soda company guard.

Just call me Mr. White.

Mother of planting and payoff!

You're Mr. White?
But you said...

How could you lie
in the face of Pain's River?

Once, I was just a down and out
poacher struggling to make ends meet

in the face of a growing
animal rights movement.

While hunting endangered
baby turtles on the Amazon,

a ravenous school of Peruvian
Flying Pike attacked me.

Fortunately my vulcanized rubber
waders deflected most of the bites.

Some of the pike I clubbed
to death, some I shot,

but one latched onto the back of my neck,
spitting its venom directly into my spine.

The experience left me
impervious to pain.

So, you were bitten by a pike?

How come you're not
a trout-mongering zombie?

Ah. For 30 days and nights
I wandered the jungle,

burning with the trout fever,

But a friendly native
gave me the antidote.

After selling his village to a lumber
corporation, an incredible idea occurred to me.

That instead of using your
misfortune to help others,

you could concoct the cocktail of
aquatic addiction to make yourself rich

by hooking the world
on your energy drink.

My plan is sheer elegance
in its simplicity, isn't it?

No, it isn't!

This is never going to work.

How do you think you're gonna
get your drink past the FDA?

Hmm. Let's just say the Deputy
Commissioner and I are close friends.

Trout!

Oh. That is just sick.

Trout!

Tonight, I test market my soda
outside the city. Tomorrow...

- I wouldn't bet on it.
- Don't be so quick to count me out.

One doesn't spend this many years
on a plan without buying insurance.

Why does everybody have it out
for this dress?

Mr. White, it'll take a lot more
to stop us than dead fish.

Oh, those aren't
just any ordinary fish.

Trout!

Trout! Trout!

Trout!

Oh, phooey.

- Dubbie?
- Yeah?

- Run.
- Trout!

So, I guess before
we become zombie carnage,

I should bring up the elephant
in the warehouse.

That I had a great day with Sensei
Ping and I let it get to my head

and I wanted to get back to Art Crawl to
see Lacey's performance and I left my post.

Now there's a big steaming
zombie pile-up in front of us.

If I would have been a better student
the world wouldn't be in danger.

- I need to ask you something important.
- What?

Did Sensei Ping teach you
the Devil's Dance?

The world's
about to be addicted

to a zombie energy drink
and that's what you ask?

I'm aware of the danger
but the Devil's Dance

is our one shot
at getting out of here alive.

- You're not gonna say I told you so?
- No, Dubbie.

You may be Sensei Ping's student
but you're also my student,

I'd be a bad teacher if I
stop doing what I always do.

- Which is to fight evil.
- Come what may.

Not always fun,
but it's who I am.

- Now did Sensei Ping teach you the Devil's Dance or not?
- No.

It's a good thing
you're such a fast learner.

* Middleman **

Trout!

* Middleman **

- Nicely done, Dubbie.
- Well, I got a great teacher.

Ida, you need to get down here with enough
pike antidote for three adult females

and one Commissioner of the FDA. Hurry
and the girls might still be unconscious.

But I'm watching
The Price Is Right.

How is that fun for you?

You're pre-programmed with the
MSRP of every product on the shelf.

I'm not having this conversation
right now. Get down here fast.

Dubbie, not to micromanage,
but why aren't you driving?

What's the point? Even with the Devil's
Dance we're hours behind Mr. White.

He probably turned half
the countryside into zombies.

I guess Sensei Ping didn't get
around to the part about curiosity.

- You mean that it kills cats?
- I mean did you try the spare key?

Why would I do that?

You were saying?

Like a Bengal Elephant.

The one who does the take down
gets to say the catch phrase.

Oh, I'm sorry.
Be my guest.

Swift justice.

"Swift justice?"
Really?

It was in my delivery.

Ah.

So, remember
when I went off on your boss?

Big muscles, deep soulful eyes,

pillow lips, work-related
excuses? Yeah, I remember.

- Did I really say "pillow lips?"
- Yup.

Did I get you in trouble?

Nah. He's a big boy.
He can handle it.

He wouldn't be
Sexy-Bossman if he couldn't.

Lace. I'm sorry I left the show.

I got your hopes up,
and that was wrong.

A zombie bride
attacked by a fish?

It used to be airplanes.

And Asian dudes.

And Asian dudes in airplanes.

I don't know
what to do with this.

Yeah, well, you're talking about
art school. Life was simple.

Keep off the freshman 15, open the
window if you're using spray paint,

put a bow around the door
if there's a boy in the room.

But real life is scary.

I'm just working it out
on the canvas.

These paintings aren't a desperate
cry from your subconscious

because it knows you're planning to quit
art in favor of a mysteriously urgent

and time-consuming
form of temping?

Scout's honor.

Hey, Dub-Dub?

We copacetic?

Yeah, copacetic.

Although there are still a
few things we need to hash out.

I shouldn't have mentioned
Sexy-Bossman's pillow lips.

I'm talking about
the next Art Crawl.

You know you can never
plan these things too early.

In spite of recent events
I was thinking

something supernaturally themed
would be killer.

What about the desperate
cries of my subconscious?

That was inspiring me to do a performance
piece from the perspective of the living dead.

Like Lady Lazarus
with zombies.

That does sound killer.
I will take dictation.

OK, so how about
something like this?

We cover the stage with soil
and a tombstone

and a hand reaches out
from the middle of the stage...

I could be the hand
and you sit on it.

You could be the hand.
I'll sit on it.

- OK. Then I move up.
- Great.