- 74, 75... - General Treister?
Hold on! 77! Bingo.
Heh, throw me that towel, son. Squat thrusts!
One for every year this bone bag refuses to crawl under the porch and die.
Let's go, big boy! You better get in step or so help me
I'll nail you to the wall of the ladies' room!
There ya go! Knew you could do it.
Now what can I do you for my boys?
- Ya here to wrestle me? - Eh, no sir, it's Agent 92-62.
Samson! That boy's gonna give me another heart attack.
My ninth, if we're counting. And we are! What has he done now?
Agent Samson has just turned the O.S.I. list of top assassins...
- into the obituary page. - Handy if you're an editor.
But a pain in the patoot if you're me! Who's down?
Don't use that one! It's set to record Battlestar Galactica
Number six... Try to blame me!
Herr Trigger, sniper. Found in a dumpster outside of a strip club.
- Apparently he's a bad tipper. - Go-fish, at-sea assassin.
Body washed up on a public beach. Still waiting for the head.
Le Tueur, big game hunter. Presumed dead.
- He doesn't answer his cell phone. - If you met the guy, you'd understand
Ehh, too much public killing. In my day, we'd draw the curtains...
before we punched a man's time clock Boys, we gotta put an end...
to this small town talent show ourselves.
It's already gone on well past the fat lady's encore.
- What's our next move, sir? - A-squad vanquisher...
packed to the attic with assault doohickies!
And daddy's gonna sit in the big chair.
- Yes, sir. - I'm gonna personally make damn sure
we end this Samson problem, A-SAP!
Let's move out!
I should get dressed, I guess.
You'll never get me to talk, pigs.
We got you at the scene covered in the victim's blood...
with the murder weapon on the floor. You better start flappin' those gums
or you're lookin' at life plus 20, Tralfaz.
Um, may I say something? I'm not really "with" him...
Tralfaz. What is that, Polish?
It's Spanish for "go... yourself."
He doesn't speak for both of us.
I don't think... I don't think that's true.
My wife speaks a little Spanish. Hold on, I'm gonna call her... Ow! Hey!
I'm sorry, you think maybe we can stick to...
you know questioning the suspects here?
What is this, the bad cop retarded cop routine?
OK! OK! We'll tell you everything you want to know!
- I'd like my own counsel. - I told you, boys.
You're not under arrest. I just want to ask you a few questions
Let's start with this "Brock" you keep talking about.
- Who is he? - He's our bodyguard. He protects us.
Does "Brock" speak to you?
- 'Course. - Both of you?
- Duh. - OK.
Does Brock ever... tell you what to do?
Yeah. Well, sometimes. Sorta. I guess.
And this robot friend of yours, this...
"Helper." Does he speak to you, too?
One last chance. Where is Venture?
- Did he tell us? - It seemed like he was being sarcastic
See, it's the upwards inflection. It doesn't really feel like directions.
You tell us where Venture is or we break something...
Comprende?
- Oh! Nice move, dick. - Oh! I busted him!
Dude, I barely tapped it! I swear! I'm wicked sorry.
Don't apologize! Now he knows we mean business.
Now you tell me Venture's location or we...
- Knock off your head? - Again... intentionally!
So what's your relationship with this Le Tueur character?
- Never heard of him. - Oh, maybe this'll refresh your memory.
The stiff in your room split straight up the garanimals?
- Eh, good luck pickin' up that spare. - What the hell's that supposed to mean?
You know, 'cause he cut him in half. It's like a 7-1 0 split. Like in bowling
- But, you know, with a guy. - That is... downright esoteric.
- I got it right away. - You... shut your mouth.
Do we get socked on the lips every time we talk...
or only when we make a point?
So that's... that's every time then?
Oh, alright. Fine. I'll tell you everything.
- Can I get one of those? - No.
My family and I have been on the run from an elite squad of super-assassins
who've been trying to kill our bodyguard since last night.
If you don't let us go so we can help him he'll probably be dead by morning
Fascinating. Now, if we could...
let's get back to this giant butterfly.
Look, I told you what you wanna know Now gimme my phone call!
OK fine, boys. This is... this is a good place to take a break.
- Eh, who would you like to call? - Hello, Pop? This guy's a tool.
OK, that stung! I have delicate joints...
You gentlemen are free to go. Uncuff 'em, detectives. Now.
- Aww, why? - No body, no case. It's over.
Whoa whoa! What are you talking about no body?
That room looked like the set from Saw freakin' one!
Nope... The room was down right Martha Stewart.
Forensics couldn't find dick...
except for a faint, eh lemony fresh kinda odor.
I can still smell it.
Oh no no! No, no!
Let me guess. You're The Cleaner?
Alright, smart guy. We played it nice.
Venture's location. You have three seconds....
2, 1 ...
OK 24, light him up.
Do I connect the positive side first or...
Who cares? He's not a Mitsubishi Galant, just do it.
What the hell are you doing to him?
Ah! Honey? We were just asking him stuff.
Oh, you poor sweet thing.
Did the bad men hurt you?
Monarch, this goes against the Guild Sentience Conference of 1998!
We have to bring him back to his family.
Your family must miss you.
Let's find them and get you back to safety.
Alright, run these numbers through the NAV-COMM.
It's somewhere in California.
That dirty... robot got grease all over my dress.
Sweetie, your "good-cop" is chilling.
That was so hot... Hot, hot cop.
Eh, this is as far as I go.
There's a rental car waiting for you quarter of a mile south of here.
Keys and a new I.D. In the glove box, Cochise.
Good luck to ya man.
Yeah, I uh, only got one problem with that plan...
- Hank never called you. - I did.
Figured even the mighty Brock Samson might've trouble fighting the entire OSI
Molotov. I don't know why I'm surprised. How'd you find us?
- You haven't exactly been discreet. - Oh, like that get-up is?
Though I gotta admit for a disguise, it's pretty good.
Hardly recognized ya.
What disg...? I'm off-duty.
That's... that's how you dress when you're not catwoman-ing around?
I might have to rethink this whole relationship.
Who's that hood rat Brock's talking to?
He can get any shorty he wants.
More of your friends, Molotov?
Molotov?
"Venture!"
"Come out, come out wherever you are..."
- Ugh. Really? - Eh, cliched, I know.
Trust me, it sounds extra-creepy over the P.A.
"Hello, Dr. Venture."
"I hope you don't mind I called your private number."
"Your robot gave it to me."
"And if you ever want to see him alive again you will show yourself."
- Is he serious? - "Deadly!"
- "You have exactly one minute to..." - "Aw, check it out."
"When you turn on night vision with the lights on..."
"it's like an X-ray camera. Kinda."
"Samson! What in the hell do you think you're doin'?"
Still breathing General Treister, sir.
- No thanks to you. - "Aw, you're lookin' fine, son."
"Glad to see you finally took that mop top down to regulation."
Cut the crap, sir. What do you want from me?
"The O.S.I. wants you to come in from the cold, son."
"It's high time we had us a li'l old fashioned pow-wow."
- "And put a stop to this situation." - I think we're way past that, sir.
"Now, now, now don't go gettin'... all "first blood" on me, boy."
"You got a family to think about."
"How long you really think you're gonna last out there..."
"in the wilderness with those Ventures?"
They're not part of this. I don't want them harmed.
"They won't be if you just do what we say."
"Now why don't you just give us the coordinates like a good soldier..."
"20 seconds, Venture. What's it gonna be?"
"Nineteen..."
Alright. I'll give you what you want.
But it goes down the way I say it does.
We meet at the Venture Compound.
Dawn.
Dawn? Ha! Dean...
We're finally gonna meet our long lost sister!
Wake up! We're here.
Gather round my winged flock!
Eh, my breath.
Go! Run! Head for the panic room quick. And stay low!
Aw, every time something remotely cool happens...
it's "get in the panic room!" Unfair!
Alright, alright can't I at least change first?
This has to be the most uncomfortable thing I've ever worn.
"Today is a day which will live long..."
"in the annals of Monarch history!"
- With the sun at our backs we shall... - Uh, Monarch...?
Ah! Do. Not. Interrupt!
There. You happy now? Look what you did.
Now you don't get to go on the murder crusade!
Honey, what the hell are we doing here? This is obviously a trap.
Damn right it is! But whom is trapping whom?
Let's just say I took the liberty of upgrading his precious robot's equipment
with two gigabytes of kablam!
The big chair!
- Right on schedule. - "Samson! Hup bah, what's the what?"
- "We ready to do this thing?" - "Well, Venture... here we are again."
Uh, hang on just a sec', General.
That son of a bitch just put me on hold?
"Your fancy new plane won't save you, Venture."
"We're having this out, here and now once and for all!"
"Oh, I couldn't agree with you more, Monarch."
"Why don't ya come on around back and say hello?"
I'd be delighted.
Sugar crown, we don't even know what that thing can do.
Sweetness! Why do you think we have henchmen?
"Besides, he's Rusty Venture not the O. S. Freaking I."
"Anything he can throw at us we can throw back tenfold!"
- Sorry 'bout that, General. - "What were ya, tyin' yer boots?"
"Are you comin' out or are ya gonna make us..."
"come in there and get you?"
Won't be necessary, sir.
I'm a comin' around now...
Uh, sir? Can we get an order here?
"Fire!"
- Who the hell are those guys? - They're henchmen for the Monarch, sir.
- What in the hell's a Monarch? - Low level Guild troublemaker.
- Used to arch Dr. Venture. - Then he arched Dr. Venture.
"Aw, come on, General. That any way to treat my friends?"
Those clowns are with you?
What in hell is going on here, Samson?
"Just tryin' to even the playing field a little, sir."
Looks like Samson's gone over to the Guild, sir.
Want me to give the order to take out the big cocoon?
Is that what that thing is? Jeepers crappers, no.
If Samson's pulled a full-on Judas there's no tellin'...
what kinda trade secrets he might've given up.
I want him alive. Ground forces!
Henchmen!
Form battle squadrons and prepare for full assault on my order!
I told you... We should just leave already.
Oh stop yourself. Moppets! Prepare my Death's Head Panoply!
There it is again!
I'm telling ya there's like a skunk ape out there or something.
Hank, sit down and pretend to be sane.
- Dean, what are you doing? - I can't feel my left arm.
How old do you have to be to have a heart attack?
- In regular years, or pansy years? - Whatever! Why!?
- Why can't I just have a normal life? - I had that dream once too.
- Open up! - Aahh! Sergeant Hatred!
What the hell is he doing here?
You're just gonna let him in? He's Pop's arch enemy!
Yeah technically, like on paper.
Hello, ladies.
Where's your old man at?
Behind those boxes. Hiding from you.
- Thanks, Hank. - There you are!
OK, you have to kill me.
I've been here for like two days trying to do it myself.
I tried to blow my head off with a damn shrink ray.
Now I got a little baby tongue. I'm a failure.
- What's wrong with him? - He's having a heart attack.
Look Nelly-boy you don't know of heart pain!
I've tried to change. I quit the sauce the cigars the young boys.
And she still left me!
Mister Hatred could you stop yelling please?
- Honestly. - Come on, man! Kill me!
- Attack. - Attack!
Attack!
Tortilla chip? They are not only cool, they are ranch.
- Totally. What are you doing? - I'm creating realistic battle damage.
So when we join them at the end it'll look like I've seen some action.
It'll look like rubbed snack on your face. Oh! Listen to that!
Did you just hear that guy? That guy right there.
That is a guy on fire! You can totally tell.
- What the... - Crap, he's stealing our hiding place
Dude! Bail! Come on!
I can't! My seat belt is jammed!
Why'd you buckle it? Why would you do that!?
I don't know!
Why did you buckle up? Why?
Just choke me!
Choke my neck! Damn you! Strangle my pain away...
- please! - Look, crazy.
So your teen bride left you. Big whoop.
Is she really worth ending everything...
- Hank! What are you doing? - I'm going out there.
Brock needs me!
That boy is not even close to a chip off the old block.
- He's got guts! - Excuse me? You don't know me.
Why in my prime I saw some things that would make your head spin.
Yeah, I saw a guy's head spin. Like right off his neck.
Why? Because I punched him! Top that!
OK... OK! My father made me kill a man...
kill a man with a house key!
- I was ten! - Oh, that's nothing!
I ate a whole Labrador Retriever once!
- I'm serious! - Blah, blah! All this talk!
We gotta do something! Brock is being attacked by his friends
Your real arch enemy is trying to kill you...
and you're swapping war stories with Sergeant Kill Me!
Wow! I like this one.
- And he is right. - He's crazy.
He's gonna get us killed!
No, he has got something. Look at us.
We are hiding from our true selves.
I'm a fighter, not a lover! And you...
you were Rusty Venture once.
Maybe the most fearless Boy Adventurer ever.
- Maybe the most? - And Hank here...
- Hank is becoming a man. - I can feel it in my bones!
And Dean... Dean is...
- Sensitive. - He'll come around!
Now let's get out there and show those frail flowers...
who the hell they're dealing with!
Let's pretend this is a good idea.
- We'd need an army... - We've got one!
Hank, there are only four... three and a half of us.
Not if you let me open my Christmas gifts early, there aren't.
Ten- hut!
Left left...
"left, right ,left..."
"left, left left, right ,left!"
Company halt!
He did it! Sgt. Hatred saved the day!
And we helped! Kinda!
Go Team Venture!
Oh, God! Oh, no! No! No!
Whoa whoa whoa! Cease fire! Cease fire!
Alright look just... just put your weapons down!
I give up, OK? Now let me talk to General Treister
All right put me here and give me the megaphone.
Hold it up for me. I can't move my arms.
Enemies of the Monarch!
Behold my impressive Death's Head Panoply!
The final solution in tailoring!
"Recoil in terror..."
"as the mighty Monarch goes supernova!"
Oh, sweet tights, not that.
You never tested it. You are gonna kill yourself.
Why do you always have to take that last step over the crazy edge?
And now I write this battle's final chapter...
with the blood of my enemies!
It's the little button on the sleeve.
Well, there's my life's work up in smoke.
Oh, God! I feel like I'm the one dying.
We should be out there with them!
We should be fighting side by side...
with our moist warrior brethren!
Just take it down a notch, Hank.
You only live once.
Help! Help! help!
Oh, God.
Sure got a funny way of thankin' people, Samson.
Fly all the way here to save your butt and what do we get?
- Face full of moth people! - They're butterflies, sir.
Really? The hell I'm thinking of, then? Emperor moths?
What are you talkin' about savin' my butt?
You sicced those three goons on it! And then when they weren't enough
you came here to finish the job yourselves.
Boy, I don't know what the hell you're talkin' about.
All I know is when O.S.I. hears one of its baby chicks is in trouble...
Momma comes a-runnin' and a-squawkin, and a-runnin.
- That's how we do. - Then you didn't uh...
You're not... I was never... Ah....
Son, I believe your mind has gone AWOL I shoulda seen this comin'.
Your work's been gettin' sloppy across the board, boy.
Public killins' abuse of company property...
and none of your reports on Dr. Venture...
ever mentioned nuthin' 'bout no illegal clone farm.
You send them reports about me?
Maybe you've been on this detail too long.
Why don't you come back with us...
so we can find you a nice new assignment?
Maybe somethin' a little easier on the ol' noggin'?
Thank you. No, sir. I've seen enough spinning butterfly
naked boy armies... Screw this.
I'd rather, uh, quit.
- Yeah, you tell him, Brock! - Well good for you!
O.S.I., who needs 'em?
Where are you going?
Aren't you going to help clean up this mess?
I said I quit.
You know... I could use a job.
- Hey, Monarch! - Huh?
I'm takin' your... car.
Oh. Yeah, yeah.
- Twenty Four! - Nooo!
So much for our competition.
Congratulations, ladies. Just as we planned...
we are now the top assassins in the country.
The Blackhearts Elimination Agency...
is officially open for business.
Thanks to Mr. Brock Samson.
To Brock Samson! Long live that blonde haired...
butter cream frosted murder cake
Subtitled by: Image Production House