Man: It's alive!
Huhnmorder:
You know, I you like you're fat-shaming me.
Ball pit! Whoo!
Help! Aah!
Aha! Mojo Jojo is in jail now
but will break out to fight the Powerpuff Girls again
for you to put in jail again -- No. Wait.
Is that Mojo Jojo's life? Oh, my God.
Mojo Jojo needs to sit down for a minute.
Shut up, monkey! It's not our problem!
But maybe if Townsville funneled more resources
into rehabilitative justice,
he'd grow from a villain into a civilian.
All Mojo Jojo wants in life is a stable home and career,
maybe start a pottery shop in Santa Fe.
You know, one where all they sell are turquoise necklaces.
But Mojo Jojo has no other choice now.
God damn it!
The punitive justice system
never gave him the chance to grow!
How did we become part of such a terrible cycle?
The mayor.
Girls!
Fuzzy Lumpkins is plotting to poison the Townsville River!
You mean the destitute banjo player
forced to live in the forest due to your city gentrification?!
Angry-face punch! Ha! - Ow!
Maybe if you cared about more than just the Townsville 1%,
Fuzzy could contribute to society!
Ooh! Girls! I'm a good guy!
Oh, Mayor.
You're not a good guy. You're a bootlicker.
Narrator: And so Townsville is saved
from its greatest villain yet, The Man!
Okay. - It's pure adrenaline, Vincent.
You stab it right into her heart.
One, two, three. Syringe!
Oh, yeah.
I guess feet don't have hearts. Sorry, buddy.
She was just...so sexy.
So what's the dealie with MJ?
You're difficult to track down, Spider-Man.
Aah! Nick Fury? - Why did you tranquilize Ned?
It was gonna be a kick-ass reveal for me.
Look. Maybe he's okay.
Oh, Mr. Fury, those are his brains!
It's okay!
I've read that humans use like 10% of their brains.
Maybe this is the -- Shit.
Maybe this is the part he doesn't use.
Lights out, boys.
Aah!
Oh, so many brains!
MJ, no! Mr. Fury!
Aw, Mr. Fury! - That wasn't me!
See, this coffee table shouldn't -- Okay.
Uh...motherfucker!
Mm.
Get over here!
I don't know if you noticed,
but, uh, when I was digging around in there,
I think I saw something.
Something? What, like a lump?
Saying you saw something is, like,
some heavy shit - to drop on someone, man.
Let me take another look!
You might want to bite down on something.
I'm not really seeing anything.
Maybe the light might have hit it weird.
Are you kidding?
I'm looking for a real answer, bro.
Okay, okay. - Uh, let me dig a little deeper.
Slam!
Oh! Ah!
Looks like the tip of my spear
got tangled around your spine all weird
and made a funky shadow.
Uh, looks like the coast is clear, buddy!
Finish him! - Really?
Come on. Finish him. - Mm.
Okay.
Fatality! Scorpion wins.
Did hit me with your butt?
Ow!
Ow! My teeth! Hi. I'm Nightwing.
Have you ever wished for a delicious-looking superhero butt
like mine?
Make that wish come true with Nightbutt.
It's the first all-in-one butt exerciser
that's sure to sculpt, tone,
and train your glutes to take out brutes.
You'll learn moves like...
Ow!
And, of course...
So tight!
So get your rear in gear and get the Nightbutt!
Tell 'em Dick sent ya. Nightbutt.
Can you read the top line? I tawt I taw a puddy tat!
No. That's an "H."
I'm wegally bwind.
...and after I returned the last Infinity Stone,
I came here to the past to spend my life with you.
I don't know what that will do to the timeline,
so I got to be careful.
As long as we're together, it doesn't matter.
Boy.
Okay.
I changed the oil, mowed the lawn,
and repaired the garage door.
Oh, I w-would have helped out. But you know that timeline.
Oh, my God.
Did you pee in these? - Yeah.
Couldn't risk the timeline by walking to the bathroom.
Then how did you get those snacks?
I bounce this fine-china serving tray off several walls
into the kitchen as if it's my shield.
It collects all my snacks, bounces back to my hand.
Watch.
It works when you're not here.
Steve! You're back!
And I brought you something, Sam.
Your shield!
I sold my shield for snacks, but this works just as well.
And it's yours now, Sam.
Gee. Thanks!
A fine-china serving tray
that looks hastily glued together.
You know what a guy forgets about 1945, Sam?
The snacks. They're terrible.
Hey, do we still have that vending machine in HQ?
We do. It actually survived -- Oh, great!
I'm gonna get some Sour Patch Kids.
You want anything? - I'm good.
Fantastic. Now watch this drive.
Are you okay?
I made a terrible mistake, Sam.
Holy shit!
I found a way to save Moo Moo Farm!
- They're paying us 20 - K just to have some go-karts
whiz around the property a few times!
That's amazin'!
Should we clear the cows and gophers from the roads?
Nah! How much trouble could they cause?
Aah! Oh, my God!
Oh, my Lord!
Oh, no! The gophers!
My house!
My crops!
I'm-a gonna win!
Come on! Time for-a Koopa Troopa Beach!
It's gone! It's all gone!
Maybe not! Look!
They left one of those rainbow boxes.
Maybe something inside can help us.
Nellie, no! That question mark is upside down!
Oh, God! Nellie!
Young man: Hey, at least her head's here. Dad can work with that.
Oh! Nellie!
Oh, dear!
My pound has too many cute animals.
They'll never be adopted.
My alligator farm is broke.
All my alligators are gonna starve!
Did we just solve each other's problems? Did we just solve each other's problems?
Narrator: And so the alligator farm
set aside space for the pound to offer animal adoptions,
and the adoption fees went toward feeding the alligators.
Wait. Did you expect they would feed the pound animals
to the alligators?
Oh. Wow. My God.
You seem very jaded and worn down by the world.
Try to take some time each day to meditate.
I hate office Christmas parties.
Yeah. Why does Alice always get so aggressive?
Dilbert, is your dick curved like your tie,
or is your tie curved like your dick?
Now, now. Leave Dilbert's tie alone.
It is literally the only interesting thing about him.
It is not!
Lazy, stupid, violent, evil, scary, genius, necktie.
I see your point.
I'm Hal Bruber, international terrorist.
Which one of you is the boss?
The joke's on you.
This is a socialist collective.
Oh, fuck you guys.
I demand to know the combination to the safe.
Whoa! We have a safe?
Don't ask me. I don't have any qualifications for this job.
I wouldn't even know what to put inside a safe.
Nobody knows what we do at this company.
Hey, Carol, what do we do at this company?
Oh, my!
Someone's gonna get written up for that.
That's not good.
Alice: Festive!
Let's make a break for it.
Nah. I want to see who gets shot next.
Asok was right.
This necktie is literally all I have going for me.
Hello? I need help!
The terrorists are going to kill everyone.
Look, it's not like we get a special cop bonus
if everyone survives in there.
Do whatever.
At last!
You're not a terrorist at all. You're just a thief!
It's not stealing if you're taking back what's yours!
Reveal!
Television and musical sensation Jim Rash?
I'm Scott Adams, shithead,
creator of the Dilbert comic strip!
And within this box is all the good will from readers
I've built up after decades!
What possible use could you have for reader good will?
The more readers remember enjoying my comic,
the more they'll tolerate me when I say things like,
"White men are being erased from this culture!"
Why would you even want to say something like that?
Because it's true!
My Dilbert cartoon on UPN was canceled because I'm white!
But it wasn't funny.
It didn't have to be funny! I'm white!
That used to be all you needed!
I think you'd better check the box again.
What the...
Huh? - Buddy, there's not enough reader good will in the world
to shield you from your own wack ass.
No, Dilbert! - Sneak attack!
Blam!
Well, he died power-humping an authority symbol.
Very white male way to go. Got to respect that.
Gun-butt! Who's boring now, asshole?
And for the record,
...the tie is shaped like my...
Chicken:
♪ Ba-bawk bawk bawk ♪
♪ Ba-bawk bawk bawk-a-wawk wawk bawk bawk ♪
Chickens:
♪ Ba-bawk bawk bawk ♪
♪ Ba-bawk bawk bawk-a-wawk wawk bawk bawk ♪
♪ Ba-bawk bawk bawk ♪
♪ Ba-bawk bawk bawk-a-wawk wawk bawk bawk ♪
Chicken: Ba-gawk!
Man: Bawk.