-♪ Look up there ♪ -♪ What do you see? ♪
♪ Nature and stuff ♪
-♪ Like a rock ♪ -♪ And a tree ♪
♪ Oh, the Great North ♪
♪ Way up here, you can breathe the air ♪
♪ Catch some fish ♪
♪ Or gaze at a bear ♪
♪ Wow ♪
♪ Oh, the Great North ♪
♪ Here we live, oh, oh ♪
♪ Here we'll stay, oh, whoo ♪
♪ From longest night to longest day ♪
♪ In the Great North. ♪
(cheering)
RUSSELL: Ah.
The trash cans filled to the brim.
The halls ripe with B.O.
A lone Tater Tot under the cafeteria table
captured in the fading afternoon light.
The smell of vomit sawdust in my nostrils.
This is Junior Janitors.
Are you gonna act this annoying all the time
during Junior Janitors, Russell, or is today special?
Moon, today is special
because it's both of your first days as JJs,
and sure, you guys think it's just sweeping and gum removal,
but it's also mopping and spitball removal.
I'm just here for teacher gossip.
I figured you must overhear teachers talking
on their cell phones after hours,
see weird stuff in desk drawers.
I love knowing teacher secrets.
It's the only knowledge they have that's worthwhile.
Spill it, Russell.
Well, Mr. Branson has a pair of desk socks
-and something called herpes. -Keep talking.
Mr. Snee told his wife that he invented the phrase
"tennis anyone?" and he's paranoid
that she's gonna find out the truth.
The librarian, Mrs. Feldspar, does this one-woman show called
Book Worm By Day, Magazine Snake By Night.
Russell, just got a call.
Joshua misplaced his retainer today.
-You know the drill. -We're on it.
Guys, this is a full-campus can scan.
Look in every bin, un-ball every muffin wrapper,
rip open every juice box and see what she's hiding.
Joshua may have lost the retainer,
-but he didn't lose us. -10-4. I'll head north.
Oh, Moon, don't you want to go with Quinn
because you have a crush on her and...
Shh, shh, shh, shh. Shut up, Russell.
I don't have a crush on her.
But, at my birthday party, you said...
I said I put a curse on her. You misheard me.
My mistake. I must've had too much licorice that night.
Well, no crushes here,
but I guess I'll go with her just to make you happy.
-Aw. Thanks, Moon. -Hey, Quinn, wait up.
No retainer. Someone did throw away a tooth, though.
I put it in my pocket to get five bucks
out of my mom tonight. I already lost all my baby teeth,
but I'm gonna tell her I grew one out of the top of my mouth.
She's very gullible.
Uh, Moon,
are you organizing all the trash?
-That is very weird. -It is?
Are you really asking me if it's weird
to organize trash into a neat grid?
Yeah. I did it just to, uh, make you laugh,
and now it's all messed up
and normal, and we can forget about it forever. Great.
-Find anything? -Nope.
But Moon was putting his trash into a weird pattern.
As a joke. (chuckles)
All right, the only room left is Mr. Golovkin's.
If it's not there, it's in God's mouth now.
QUINN: Receipt for Jazz Hits of the '60s
and... a love letter?
The bottom's torn off, but I assume it ended
with a big ol' lipstick kiss.
Oh, it's to Ms. Anderson.
That's a pretty good secret. Right, Quinn?
Russell, no. Everyone knows about them.
Remember? Corine saw them kissing near the VCR store.
-(gasps) The retainer! -Another successful rescue.
Joshua's teeth can rest easy tonight.
So, uh, today was pretty fun.
All the, uh, trash.
Now I know what all the hubbub is about dumpster diving.
Yeah. It sucks that we have to wait a whole week
until we can do Junior Janitors again.
I mean, because the janitor stuff was fun,
not because I want to hang out with you.
Oh, yeah, no, me neither.
I don't care about you, like, at all.
Same. I barely noticed you were there.
Oh, me, too. Yup.
But it is gonna be a long time with no new teacher secrets,
and I'll miss that part, not you.
Yes, I will miss that part, too. The teacher secrets.
-Definitely. -Well, if you find out anything weird
about teachers, I guess, let me know.
I could do that.
Unless, you're too busy organizing
rotting banana peels or something.
That's my ride.
Hey, Mom, a tooth just fell out of my ear.
To the bank, milady.
(sighs) There she goes, the perfect woman.
-Hello, Mr. Golovkin. -Aah!
-You're here late. -Don't sneak up on people.
I didn't sneak. I was standing here the whole time.
Well, I didn't see you. You should be taller.
-What's with that big pot? -It's nothing.
I'm cooking someone... for someone.
I'm cooking for a friend.
And also, it's none of your business
and I was never here. Okay? Great. Bye.
Hm, Mr. Golovkin stealing a giant pot from school.
Seems like hot teacher goss to me.
Better tell Quinn about it.
HONEYBEE: Ugh, I hate that we have to do this at night.
I'm freezing. My butt cheeks are like ice.
I love wildlife, but not like this.
I hate it, too, I know. But we have to use the cover of night
to find crab skeletons to photograph.
'Cause if my family finds out what we're up to,
-we'll be living in an RV in Ketchikan by tomorrow morning. -Ooh!
There's one. Remember to use your crab corpse checking stick
to make sure it's dead, babe.
You've already been pinched to hell tonight.
Well, would you look at this delicious crab cake.
I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.
You probably lost a lot of family that way.
And I'll just put your little crab arm like so.
-(knock on door) -BEEF: Hello, knife-sharpening fairy.
-(Wolf gasps) -Anyone have anything for me?
-Dad! Uh, uh, Dad. -(gasps)
Good God! Not whims-idermy!
I know what this looks like,
but we were not posing dead animals whimsically
for our pleasure.
Don't lie to me. You are clearly staging
dead wildlife in amusing scenarios.
We don't do that in this family.
(clears throat) "Wolf and Honeybee,
"when you use crab skeletons
for your personal pleasure, it hurts me because..."
Guys, no need for an intervention, we can explain.
We know it's wrong to pose dead wildlife
in a wacky and lighthearted way.
But this shell-sherad is unholy. It's unholy,
and I frown on it with all my might.
And I frown with my father.
Read you loud and clear, but the thing is,
Honeybee and I were gonna enter
the Alaska Fisherman's Coalition calendar competition,
where whims-idermy reigns supreme.
Remember last year's winner, the Badger Barbecue?
They all had those cute little aprons on.
That's why our theme was Crab Cowboys.
But, Wolf, we never go to the calendar competition
and we throw the calendar itself away
when the free one arrives in the mail.
Yeah, but we wanted to win the competition this year
because, well... we wanted to...
(sighs) win a honeymoon.
What are you talking about?
This year's calendar winner gets a three-night stay
at The Swan and the Scone Bed and Breakfast in Fairbanks.
We were thinking it'd be like a mini-honeymoon.
We never had one. After the wedding,
we just drove Honeybee's family to the airport
and the van broke down.
Oh, yeah, and I barfed a bunch
because I ate 15 pieces of wedding cake
and the little plastic bride and groom on top.
I assumed they were candy.
Well, I want to help you achieve this dream,
but there must be a way we can make a great crab calendar
without posing their corpses.
A way to show everybody that whims-idermy
is not necessary to win.
Yeah, we can all help you win.
It's a deal.
Time to put the "crab" back in "crab-lendar."
Getting crabs with my dad.
-This is what life is all about. -Babe, no.
MOON: All right, guys,
emergency Junior Janitor business.
After you left last night,
I saw Mr. Golovkin take a giant metal pot
from school after-hours so no one would see him.
I'm thinking we should do some extra Junior Janitoring
this week to figure out what's going on.
You think he's cooking something weird?
-Like something illegal? -Like drugs?
(gasps) Or alcohol?
Well, he did say he was cooking someone,
but then he said he was cooking for someone, so...
Oh, my God! He must have murdered someone
and now he's making them into soup.
-Uh, I doubt he's... -But who did he kill?
(gasps) Wait, there was a sub
in Ms. Anderson's class this morning.
Oh, my God, the torn-up note.
It probably ended with, "I love you,
but I'm a serial killer and I'm gonna murder you."
Better go see what that maniac is up to now.
Boring. He's just drinking coffee.
(gasps) But look at his mug.
"Don't talk to me before I've had my coffee or
-I'll kill you!" (gasps) -Oh, my God.
Well, janitors, looks like we have a crime scene to clean up.
Okay, let's run down the facts we know.
Fact one: Mr. Golovkin murdered Ms. Anderson.
Fact two: he's planning to cook her body.
Fact three: facts one and two could be wrong
and they're slow-roasting a big ol' batch of breaking bads.
Look, either one of you could be right,
and we definitely need to spend a lot of time together
to figure it out.
What if we all followed Mr. Golovkin after school,
or just me and Quinn if you're busy, Russell.
-Free as a bird. -Wonderful.
We can tail him on my family's snow machine.
My mom lets me drive it as long as I wear my helmet,
but sometimes, I don't cinch the chin strap all the way.
-It chafes. -Bad ass.
I'll need my janitorial go-bag. It's mostly candy,
but there's a couple useful things in here, too.
Oh, and is it okay if I sandwich
in between you guys on the snow machine?
-I get very cold. -Ugh, sure.
Ugh, those must be Mr. Golovkin's murderer friends.
Say no to drugs, kids,
'cause this is the result, and it ain't pretty.
QUINN: They must be wearing the train conductor outfits as disguises.
It's probably how they travel the world murdering
and don't get caught.
Yeah, those evil bastards.
And they probably brought those little train whistles
so they can blow them to celebrate
Mr. Golovkin's latest kill.
What a bunch of sickos.
Oh, he's on the move. Let's go.
(whistles)
Look at that fancy drug den
paid for with cocaine and murders.
(scoffs) Must be nice.
He's headed to the basement. Follow me.
MR. GOLOVKIN: You stay right there. I'll be back, and then
-I'll finish you off. -Oh, God,
he does have Ms. Anderson in there.
I'm actually slightly scared.
I've got a free hand to hold if anyone needs it.
I'll take you up on that. Thanks, buddy.
-Mm. -Ah.
-That hits the spot. -(car door opens)
He's leaving.
Time to rescue Ms. Anderson.
Ah, there's my Star Trek stress ball. Thank God.
-(grunts) We're in. -(grunts)
QUINN: (gasps) That must be his kill room.
There's the pot from school.
Ugh, these drugs smell like vinegar.
There's some kind of blob in there,
and it's... (gasps) it's floating up.
(all scream)
Is that Ms. Anderson?
We'll save you, Ms. Anderson. We'll get you out of there.
(kids scream)
-(grunts) -Ow!
Did you throw a Skittle at my eye?
Please, don't cook us in your drug pot.
Okay, guys, Honeybee and I need that h-moon,
and we need to pull out all the stops,
but we also don't want to be d-bags
who are using crab corpses for sick entertainment purposes,
like Dad said, so...
-Ta-da. -Oh, boy.
We will place the little diapers on the live crabs,
so they'll look like Baby New Years.
Grab some quick pictures in front of this backdrop,
and then we will very respectfully eat these bad boys.
Okay, um, great plan, guys. I just am not sure we can, uh,
make the crabs stand still or put the costumes on them.
I don't know if you guys know this,
but crabs love to pinch.
Way ahead of you, buddy. That's what the gloves are for.
All right, I'm gonna grab them up, and then... Ow, ow!
-Aah! Aah! -(all scream) -Hold still, son.
Let me just... Oh, no! He's got my mustache!
-Honeybee, grab the diaper! -I got it, I got it.
(overlapping shouting)
-Watch it. -No, not my beautiful face!
We're all gonna die!
-That Skittle really hurt, Russell. -Sorry.
Now, what on earth are you children doing in my home?
We're the ones that should be asking the questions.
Oh, really? And why is that?
Because you're a murderer.
You cooked Ms. Anderson in that pot.
Or drugs. We haven't decided yet.
(laughs) I'm sorry.
It's very funny to me that you think I cooked a woman in a pot.
No, I'm afraid that pot merely contains my homebrew kombucha.
Are you guys bored and doing a Rear Window?
-A what? -You see that poster?
You're doing that movie. That's what you're doing.
You saw me do, like, one suspicious thing
and then decided I was a murderer.
-So, Ms. Anderson... -Is fine.
She's at home on a staycation.
In fact, she just posted a meme
of The Incredible Hulk getting into a hot tub
that says, "Hulk Splash,"
and captioned it, "I'm living my best life."
It's me that everyone should be concerned about.
She broke up with me
on the literal day she was going to move in here.
I've been distracting myself by making
an extra big batch of my favorite drink
using that pot that, yes, you did catch me stealing
from school, but now it's ruined
because a child broke into my home
and threw Skittles in it because he thought I boiled a lady.
So, what exactly happened with Ms. Anderson?
Sure, let me tell a bunch of children about it, why not?
I was in love with a dame, you see.
And yes, I am telling this in the style of a film noir.
Deal with it. Like I was saying, this dame was
all set to shuffle her deck with mine,
but she had a request.
I had some time to think on the drive over, Theodore.
When I move in, how's about you reroute
the train set that goes through the family room?
Thataway, when our gals and pals come over,
then we don't have to step over it,
and maybe we can take the tracks out of the bathroom, too,
so it doesn't roll through there when I'm taking a pee.
Ah, Mary, you know I'd do near about anything for you, kid,
but the train's impossible to move.
That's where it goes.
It's a scale model of the Santa Fe Railroad,
so it has to follow its route.
If I move it, it's chaos, baby,
and the whole kit and caboodle goes kablooey, see.
Well, then maybe we move some of your memorabilia
out of the house. That can move real easy.
Thataway, I'd have some space for my stuff.
Ah, see, again, Mary, it's all in the right spot.
Impossible to move.
Well, could you at least stop making
that gross vinegar drink in the house?
The whole place stinks like a rat.
Oh, baby, I would if I could, but I can't.
I needs it for my digestion.
And that's when she used
those gorgeous getaway sticks to run out on me.
Now she's letting a big green guy with muscles
sitting in a jacuzzi do all her talking.
So, she broke up with you
because you didn't want to move your toys
that you had carefully and weirdly organized?
They are not toys, they are very adult collectible items.
But here's a little warning. If any of you guys
like to organize stuff, just give it up now.
-Moon likes to organize garbage. -I don't. No, that's...
Well, cut it out, young man, 'cause that's a one-way ticket
to dying alone. Russell, I swear to God.
Yup. Uh... (chuckles) Sorry.
MR. GOLOVKIN: If any of you guys like to organize stuff,
you better give it up now,
'cause that's a one-way ticket
to dying alone...
alone... alone... alone.
Organized by date found and number of legs.
Organized by season,
size, and color.
Lined up in order of height.
Oh, no. I'm a Golovkin.
Well, that's it, buster. I'm all packed and moving out.
And I'm taking our kids, Calliope and Jim.
Both of 'em, huh?
Yeah. There's no room for us here
with all your organized stuff, you hear me?
Yeah, well, I need to have a bunch of bugs and stuff
perfectly arranged in my house,
so bye-bye to you and Jim and the other one.
All right then. (blows raspberry)
Gah!
What do women like?
Oh. Whoa. Wow. Yeah, lot of image results.
That's a gal with boobs near a tractor.
Okay, scrolling down.
Okay, now this lady's shoveling hay without pants.
What is going on on this farm? Let's shift gears.
New search. This should be safe.
"Too organized."
Wait, what's "ocked"?
Oh, OCD? Huh.
Hm... Welp.
No.
Go away.
I can't. Mr. Golovkin, I'm here to move in with you
because we are both full freaks that no woman could ever love.
What on earth are you yammering about, Moon?
You have your weird little trains.
I have my cataloged insects and my owl decoys
and my very organized collection of off-brand Smurfs, the Smarps.
Moon, you have got to start making sense right now
-or I'm calling the police. -Mr. Golovkin, I've learned,
after 15 minutes of Internet research,
that we both probably have obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Moon, I don't have OCD. That's what Monk had.
I don't wash my hands that much and I don't solve crimes.
Okay, but do you ever feel like one little thing
being out of order might lead to chaos, horror, and death?
Of course, because it will. Goodbye.
So, if you don't have OCD, then you could change that stuff
that Ms. Anderson wanted you to.
Like, it wouldn't bother you if we went in
and rearranged some stuff.
Oh, I don't know. Would it bother you
if I went into your room and rearranged
your diaper collection because you're a little baby?
Sorry, Moon. That was out of line.
Look, you're my student. You're here on a Saturday.
I highly doubt you care that much
about my personal relationships. What is this really about?
Fine. I have a curse...
a crush on Quinn,
and she made fun of me for organizing some stuff,
specifically some trash.
Yup, yup, I see. You're scared you're me,
and I accidentally told an actual student
he was gonna die alone,
and it would probably make you feel better
to see that I could change.
-Worth a shot? -Oh, screw it.
My life could literally not get worse right now.
A child in bear pajamas is giving me mental health advice.
This is it, this is rock bottom.
Might as well steer into the skid.
Okay, guys, it's looking great down here,
so come down when you're ready.
Renting these costumes was a great idea.
All the fun of posing wildlife, none of the danger.
Yes, this is much more dignified.
Also, very hard to walk in.
They are somehow both top-heavy and bottom-heavy.
Yeah, we really should've put these on downstairs.
(shouts)
(gasps) Babe, you okay?
WOLF: I'm fine, maybe. Maybe a broken arm.
I'm coming down to help. Aah!
-Aah! A-Aah! -(grunts)
-My turn, I guess. -Son, no!
-Whoa! -Crabdammit!
-(all groaning) -Okay, well,
that went perfectly.
Okay, so maybe we clear out the shed
and move the kombucha kit out here,
so your house doesn't stink like a rat.
Impossible. Where would all of my shed equipment go?
-The garage. -Oh, sure, shed equipment
in a garage, that's a thing.
Listen, just take the shovel
off of the wall hook, place it on the ground,
and put something else in its place.
(scoffs) All right. Sounds pretty stupid, but, honestly,
I'm surprised it's not something more stupid.
Nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope, nope.
That's not where it goes. The Weedwacker goes here
and the shovel... the shovel...
-Mr. Golovkin, no. -(grunts) Moon,
that shovel has a place, and that place is not in your hand.
-(grunts) -Hey!
Let me out of here this instant. Help. Help.
A child has moved my shovel from its proper place in the shed!
This is kidnapping, or adult-napping by kid.
Regardless, release me immediately.
Um, no.
I don't like being alone in here.
I'm gonna get trapped in my brain.
Okay, great, now I am stuck in my head.
-You are? -Oh, and there is a little imaginary you here, too.
-Wonderful. -So, this is inside your head?
-It's nice. Like the curtains. -Yup, whenever I get stressed,
this clockhole shows up and starts ringing his alarm bells.
I have no idea who he is, but he is desperate for attention.
Hi, little fella. I'm OCD.
Do you ever think about how messed-up everything is?
Me too. All the time.
♪ Well, you can catch a disease ♪
♪ Or your girlfriend could cheat ♪
♪ You could get gangrene in your feet ♪
♪ Plus, an earthquake could happen ♪
♪ Sending glass shattering down ♪
♪ Then it slices off your nipples ♪
♪ Drops them right on the ground ♪
♪ If you don't line up your crap ♪
♪ Or occasionally lick a table ♪
♪ You'll probably get cancer from an underground cable ♪
♪ Ah... ♪
All reasonable concerns.
So, OCD isn't just about washing hands
or, like, arranging pencils?
Oh, no, that's just TV OCD.
I'm actually a disabling pattern of disturbing obsessions
and repetitive behaviors that make it very hard
to live a normal life. I'm a stone-cold freak.
♪ Obsess about the thing you said at work ♪
♪ I think Pam was offended ♪
♪ She made a strange smirk ♪
♪ And you didn't check the stove ♪
♪ Better call your neighbor, Brian ♪
♪ Maybe you didn't unplug the curling iron, hmm? ♪
I don't have a curling iron.
♪ But maybe someone snuck into your house ♪
♪ And plugged one in while you were away... ♪
-Oh, my God. -Yeah, I mean...
♪ What if, for some reason, you eat your own eyes ♪
♪ There's so many interesting ways to die... ♪
Stop! Wow, I just...
I can't believe how much of my time I've given this guy.
Oh, no, you don't like me?
Fine, maybe I'll go in the little kid's head instead.
Uh-uh! You stay away from me.
♪ You've been my lifelong companion ♪
♪ And maybe I'm a little stuck ♪
♪ So, I guess I'll try some therapy ♪
♪ 'Cause, frankly ♪
-♪ Buddy, you suck ♪ -♪ Buddy, you suck ♪
♪ Buddy, you suck. ♪
-(Mr. Golovkin humming a tune) -Uh, Mr. Golovkin?
You okay in there?
You've just been humming for, like, five minutes.
Yes. I was just imagining
I was in a big 1930s-style musical with a clock,
and you were there, too, in a tiny tuxedo... Never mind.
-Oh. Okay. -(sighs)
Okay, Moon. It's time.
You win. Let's take this stuff to the garage.
MOON: Mr. Golovkin, is that everything?
Are you okay?
Yeah. I think you actually helped me, Moon.
And I don't think you're gonna wind up like me
because if you... if we have this thing,
well, you already know about it,
and that's great. Also, we're not the same
because you'll never be able to fully appreciate
the genius of Jules Dassin. He was a director.
Look it up, and thank you.
The eagle has landed.
-Hello, Mary. -I got your text.
Thank you for coming. And, again,
apologies for the autocorrect snafu.
"I'm horny. Penis forgive me"
was not how I intended this conversation to start.
It's okay. I'm willing to hear you out.
Great, because I've made some changes.
Okay, but if you just gave everyone in Train Land
sunglasses again, I shouldn't come in.
No, no, no. Please.
Whoa, it is tense here.
Who knew the world of competitive calendar-ing
would be so ruthless?
Look, Wolf, Honeybee, I know I resisted
doing your whims-idermy, but several injuries later,
I do see the wisdom of working with cadavers
instead of live animals,
so here's hoping these crustacean cowpokes
earn you the yee-holiday of your dreams.
This is the judges' final walk-through.
Whoever they award the blue ribbon to gets
-the three-night hotel stay. -Oh, come on.
-Birds in ball gowns? -HONEYBEE: Ugh. Can't beat a classic.
Well, we didn't win a honeymoon,
but we did get to go to three different emergency rooms.
Excuse me, Honeybee and Wolf, how much would it be
for me to acquire one of your very fascinating crab calendars?
They're uh... uh...
-$40. -Would you take $50?
For you Santiago, let's call it $55.
How about $100?
Keep going, babe. Let's go to Maui.
$300. No, five.
QUINN: Did you organize
-all these? -Yeah, according to height.
But, look, I'm tipping this one over,
and it doesn't even bother me.
Whatever you say, Moon.
Hey, did I tell you I found a photo album
in Gibbons' desk drawer?
It only has pictures of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man in it.
-Should we investigate? -I'm in.
Because I like investigating, not because I like you.
Oh, same. Very, very the same.
♪ Well, I've seen things you can't imagine ♪
♪ I've smelled smells you just can't fathom ♪
♪ When someone barfs on a chili day ♪
♪ It's not an angel that takes the stains away, it's me ♪
♪ 'Cause I'm a Junior Janitor ♪
♪ A rat scuttlin' round the cafeteria ♪
♪ A stomach flu featuring diarrhea-ra ♪
♪ You don't see it, and you don't hear-a-ra ♪
♪ But I protect you 'cause I'm a Junior Janitor ♪
♪ Someday, when my maker comes to call ♪
♪ I'll say, "Lord, I got to stay here in these halls ♪
♪ Looking for a kindergartner's bouncy ball" ♪
♪ 'Cause that's my job, yeah, I'm a Junior Janitor ♪
♪ You're a bunch of slobs but I'm a Junior Janitor. ♪
Captioning sponsored by BENTO BOX ENTERTAINMENT
and TOYOTA.
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org