[upbeat guitar riff]
♪ ♪
- If it's not a nude beach,
they need to post a fucking sign.
- Freddy, fetch me more water.
Mama needs a bigger moat to keep out the riff-raff.
- Yes, Your Majesty.
[panting]
- Hey, Gretch. - [sighs]
- Thanks again for inviting us to the beach.
- I invited you to the beach
to participate in a trash clean-up.
- Well, you suck at it.
Everywhere I look, I see garbage.
- We push forward, Camille.
The environment is no one's property to destroy,
yet everyone's responsibility to protect.
- Wow, that's a great quote to use
in my school essay about my hero.
- An essay about a hero, eh? Sit down and take notes.
I was only six months old when I noticed
everyone in the world was a fucking idiot.
- Actually, I'm writing about Aunt Gretchen
and her awesome work with climate change.
- Well, enjoy your F.
- Freddy! Freddy, get out of the water!
Shark! Shark! Freddy!
- ♪ Do, do, do, do-do, do, do, do, do ♪
- No, actual shark! - Oh!
♪ Do, do, do, do-do, do, do, do, do ♪
- Dummy, you're gonna die!
- ♪ Do, do, do-do-- ♪
[water splashes]
[screaming]
[beachgoers screaming]
- Oh, my God, Freddy!
- No one panic! I'll run for help!
Oof!
♪ ♪
- ♪ Good, mm-hmm ♪
- ♪ Three brothers puffin' ♪
♪ And we just woke up in year 2020 ♪
- ♪ Roll another J and forget the day ♪
♪ Roll another J and get high ♪
♪ Roll another J and forget the day ♪
♪ Me and my brothers getting fried ♪
- ♪ The Freak Brothers ♪
♪ ♪
[upbeat musical riff]
- [whimpering]
- Stop your bitching, Freddy.
You're not the only one whose foot hurts.
I got sand in my shoes!
- I'm so sad. I had big plans for this foot.
- Don't worry, pal.
Harper has an in at the Phoenix Foot Foundry,
the only place in the country that does
experimental feet transplants. - I'm still on hold.
Cannot believe the wait music is "Footloose."
- You know, these shark attacks are happening more and more.
Global warming keeps pushing them into shallower waters
in search of food. - Pfft, who told you that?
Scientists who base their findings on "data"?
- So, Fredster, what say we make the best of
a bad situation?
We--we got you some temp foot choices.
A skate, plunger, or a bowling pin.
- I guess I'll take the skate.
- We had a gelding growing up who lost a leg.
Pappy strapped all sorts of things to that stump,
including another stump. - [neighs loudly]
- Damn, it's my fault you were even in that water.
Me and my moat! - Don't say that, Kitty.
We both know I was gonna lose my foot one way or another.
I'm surprised I kept it this long.
- Well, until you're back to 100%,
I promise to only be caring and sweet to you.
[screams] You stepped on my tail,
you fucking brain-dead cripple!
Sweet and caring starting now.
- OK, here's your ID back.
Uh, so moving past the fact that
your legal first name is "Fat,"
we registered you on the transplant list.
- Yay! - Yay!
- The tiny hiccup being, you have no insurance
and the operation will cost you $250,000.
[all gasp] - How do we get $250,000?
That's half a million!
- We gotta figure this shit out.
My best boo needs a foot.
- We should put on a benefit concert
like that one we did in 1965 to end the Vietnam War.
I mean, that worked, right?
When spit balling who could headline this concert,
we could think of only one act.
ScHoolboy-motherfuckin'-Q.
You're not gonna be a prick on this
just 'cause we sank your old yacht, are you?
- [vocalizing]
- Bruh, this sounds sketchy as fuck.
- It's gonna be great.
You know, back in the day, I penned a protest song,
helped raise awareness and a couple of skirts.
[chuckles] - Oh, yeah!
The one you wrote with my best friend Clint
that was all about me.
- He wasn't your best friend and it wasn't about you.
- Wasn't he, though? And wasn't it, though?
- Lemme give you a little taste, Q.
♪ The taste of freedom's growing ♪
♪ From the north and from the south ♪
[clang] - C'mon, man.
Why'd you wait so long to smash the fuckin' thing?
- Bruh, get that copyright infringement shit out of here.
That's the ad jingle for fucking Freedom Fudge, boy.
- A delightful ditty
and a delicious alternative to fruit.
- T Squared, stream that bitch.
- ♪ The taste of freedom's growing ♪
♪ From the north and from the south ♪
♪ Feel the power of its message ♪
♪ As you hold it in your mouth ♪
Freedom Fudge,
the official fudge of the US Women's Bowling Team.
- Well, oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, well, that's my song!
Me and Clint wrote it together
naked and tripping balls in the back of a police van!
- Why were you naked with my best friend?
- And why did it take two people
to write that piece of shit?
- We performed it at our anti-war benefit, remember?
both: ♪ Feel the power of its message ♪
♪ As you hold it in your mouth ♪
[cheers and applause]
- We did it, Clint, me and you.
Give peace and reasonable opportunity!
Write that down. It's catchy.
- Hey, you filthy hippies don't have a permit.
- Here's your permit, pig.
♪ ♪
- Hey, stupid, if you really wrote that song,
you need to get paid.
That Clint motherfucker must be
made of stacks from your jingle.
- That's my boy's foot cheddar.
- So all we got to do is track down Clint.
- He got the grace of a young Brian Boitano.
[crash] [screams, grunts]
I shattered my ankle!
[laughter]
- You Nancy Kerriganed his ass.
- I see bone! [all laughing]
[funky music]
- He was a fair dude.
I'm sure he'll give me my share of the jingle money.
- Well, that's gonna be hard.
Looks like Clint Clenchmom died in 1971.
- No!
Why, God, why?
- Ah, I'm gonna be footless forever.
- Freddy, can you stop being so selfish?
My best friend just died 50 years ago.
- Where'd the skate go, Freddy?
- I switched to plunger foot.
- Hey, get that nasty-ass dump stump out of my face!
I mean, what a good idea.
- Holy moly. Freedom Fudge is owned by
the satanic overlord of the US Senate,
Mitch McConnell!
[horror music]
[all gasping] - Turtle man! Turn it off!
- All right, so this is the wrinkly bitch ass
who owes us our money. - Ha!
McConnell would never help you guys.
He's against anything good,
including the current climate bill.
- All I know is Freddy needs us.
Man's walking around with a turd pumper for a foot.
- Gentlemen, pack your travel weed
and our communal toothbrush.
We are going to Washington.
- Yeah, we are!
- [groans] My nuts!
- [laughs] Nut shot!
- Wow, the Statue of Liberty looks different in person.
- Thanks again for letting us tag along on
your D.C. road trip, guys.
- And thank you for paying all the gas,
lodging, and food expenses. I think that squares us.
- Camille, it's gonna be fun to
see your Aunt Gretch in action. - Yeah!
We're gonna go march and shout and--and change the world!
- Yeah, 'cause that's how it works.
- Well, we have a climate bill rally to get to.
Good luck, boys.
- We'll join you after we get Mitch McConnell
to give us a quarter mil for a foot transplant!
It does sound kind of peculiar when you say it out loud.
- You know, it's a long trip.
Let's all just take a break, relax, and smoke my foot.
♪ ♪
- So getting to this, uh, fancy senator's
not gonna be a pony ride.
- Why don't we just call Matthew McConnelly
and make an appointment?
- Yo, pretty kitty,
you trying to find Mitch the bitch?
I deal in information.
You hook me up, I'll hook you up.
- Uh-uh. I ain't gon' suck your squirrelly dick,
- Baby, that stopped workin' long ago.
- Then what do you want, you toothless rat?
- I wanna hit that foot pipe.
- Uh-uh-uh-uh, track marks, the 4-1-1 first.
Where's Mitch? - Red State Barber Shop.
Mr. Mitch never misses his 2:00 p.m. wattle massage.
Oh! What the fuck?
This ain't meth. It's shitty weed!
[switchblade clicks] You think this is a game?
- Ha! - [yelps]
- Get your sorry ass out of here,
you fuckin' crack squirrel!
♪ ♪
I got a chinless white dude with blue blazing.
Target acquired.
- [moaning] That's it, Raúl.
Get in there deep. Knead it like mama's cornbread.
- Why did I leave Haiti?
- Raúl, you're still the best wattle man in the game.
- Look here. I lick my own ass and I can't watch this.
- Excuse me, Marty McBarbecue? We're here to ambush you.
- I don't know what this is about but
I'll tell you what I told those coal miners with black lung
who drove ten hours to meet with me: you have two minutes.
- OK, well, uh, we're hoping to resolve
a tiny financial snafu.
- Your candy company ripped off a song this man wrote about me
and we haven't even seen a dime.
It's time to pay up. 250 large.
- If you hippies are referring to our jingle, [chuckles]
I bought that from a dirty beatnik decades ago.
- If you could see my friend's stump--
well, it's a bong now, but if you could see--
- Sorry, time's up.
Clint is dead, I own the song, and I owe you nothing.
That a boy. Anything you find in there, you can keep or eat.
- [gags]
- Wasn't Elizabeth Warren's speech
on climate change amazing? - She was awesome!
And I can't believe you got us into the VIP tent.
It's so classy.
- Where's the shitter? - Guys!
How did you get in here?
- They thought I was an Iraqi war veterinarian.
- [munching noisily]
Keep walking, red vest.
Kitty likes her kanpachi.
- Oh, my gosh.
Camille, there's Senator Warren!
- I heard we have a vet here.
- Guess how many shrimps are in my mouth.
Sorry about the glasses. - Not a problem.
My new Cherokee intern,
Fetches Me Lattes, will clean them.
I can call her that 'cause I'm 1/16th Native American.
- I don't think you can.
- Senator, thank you so much for staging this event.
It's really s-- - Listen, Lizzy.
We're both busy people so I'll cut to the chase.
We're having a problem with your douchebag Senate buddy,
Mitch McConnell. - He's not my buddy.
He's the reason I can't pass my climate bill.
- Well, he made millions off a song I wrote
but he won't give me spit.
- Sounds exactly like when the white man stole my land.
- OK, really? No one's gon' call this shit out? Just me?
- We need leverage on this scumbag.
You got anything we could use?
- I can't personally get involved,
but I can't not support our amazing military.
What branch were you in?
- I was in this elm once. I fell.
- Please take this wampum belt as a gift,
one that may contain the coordinates of
McConnell's secret cabin deep in the woods.
- You mean a little hanky-panky shack
where he, uh, mattress mambos
with a woman who's not his wife?
- I'm not at liberty to say, but yes.
- Are you suggesting we take pictures of
McConnell and his mistress to use as blackmail?
- Bring me those photos
and I'll help you get whatever you want out of Uncle Mitchie.
- Mm, much obliged, ma'am.
- Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to make it rain.
This humidity is giving me major swamp ass.
[indistinct chanting]
[both grunting and chanting]
Ow! - Geronimo--
- Heh, fun to see how it all works, right?
[sneaky music]
♪ ♪
- Freddy, what's the compass on your Swiss Army foot say?
- The needle is pointing at you.
Everybody walk to Franklin.
- Hold up. Just past this barbed wire fence is a cabin.
♪ ♪
- Freddy, wire cutters.
[clipping]
- After you, my good man.
- There could be land mines. You go first.
- Why, thank you, Phineas.
[Men Without Hats' "The Safety Dance"]
- ♪ We can dance if we want to ♪
♪ We've got all your life ♪
- He's got a gal in there on the couch.
Be ready to snap a picture when we can see 'em both.
- ♪ We can dance if we want to ♪
♪ We can leave your friends behind ♪
♪ Because your friends don't dance ♪
♪ And if they don't dance ♪
Oh, yeah, it's Mitchie.
- What the fuck am I looking at?
- That is a AOC blow-up doll
wearing Manolo Blahnik leather knee-highs if I'm not mistaken.
- ♪ We're doing it from pole to pole ♪
♪ We can dance, we can dance ♪
♪ Everybody look at your hands ♪
♪ We can dance, we can dance ♪
[air hissing] ♪ Everybody's taking the-- ♪
Oh, no, Sandy!
[blowing]
- Holy ass mole! Look at that birthmark!
- That's the same one as Clint.
That means Clint Clenchmom is...
together: Mitch McConnell! - Ronald McDonald!
[camera snapping]
[dogs barking] - Shit.
Those dogs sound like they're about to drop gloves
so I'm out. [dogs barking]
[dogs snarling] - Ah!
Clint must have faked his own death
and had work done to change his look--
[chomping] Ow, fucker, ah! Ooh!
- This was a little underexposed
but I fixed that in the dark room.
- Boys, I think it was worth
getting my ass gnawed for these.
We threaten Mitch with showing the world
he used to be a cop-mooning, acid-dropping hippie and--
- And he'll be tripping over his wattle
to write us a big fat check for Freddy's new foot.
- Uh, Franklin, you have some spinach in your teeth.
Toothpick?
- Thank you kindly, Fred. [knocking on door]
- [gasps] Clint found us. He loves me but he'll kill you.
[blade swishes] I can't let him do that to you.
[tense music]
Eat steel, doll fucker!
- It's us! Harper and Noah!
- Put that foot blade away, you numbskulls.
Uh, what are you doing here?
- We have something to tell you and
we wanted to do it in person. - Let me guess.
You're getting divorced. - No.
- You're terminally ill? - No!
- Is it a mammal, bird, or reptile?
- Noah's dead?
- I'm standing right here. - Yes or no?
- How many guesses we got left?
- Freddy, we're sorry,
but you got rejected for the foot transplant.
- What? Why?
- Well, the medical review found him unfit for surgery.
Doctors said he had the insides of
an 85-year-old Chernobyl worker.
- You came all the way here to give us that news?
- That and we've had a long-planned trip
to Colonial Williamsburg!
- You're telling us this man is
going to go through life with one foot
and you brought blueberry hefeweizen?
Fuck y'all. [door slams]
[door slams]
- The happy juice ain't working, Frankie Two-Feet.
- So that's it?
There's nothing we could do to get my baby a foot?
- We can't get Freddy a new foot,
but we still got these photos.
Maybe we can use 'em
to make Clint give us a little something else.
- What are you thinking?
Blackmail him into making us all ambassador to Jamaica?
- No. Let's force that lyin', phony-faced fucker
into passing Gretchen's climate bill!
- Doesn't sound as fun as Jamaica,
just lying on the beach all day, tokin' doobies.
- I can't go to the beach no more.
I'll get sand in my stump.
- Oh, it's gon' be all right. Give me a hug.
- Thanks, Kitty.
- Ah! Motherfucker!
Is that a corkscrew up my ass? - Ow!
♪ ♪
- Hello, Clint.
- [stammering]
Who are you talking about?
- We know you're Clint and we have proof.
This would be where you show him the ass photo.
We rehearsed this.
- It's you, old pal.
Smokin' a J and moonin' the fuzz.
- And we have pictures of that same birthmark
on your buttockses. Match, set, game.
- Fine, you got me.
I faked my death and changed my appearance.
- How bad were you trippin'
to pay a dude to change your face to that?
- How could you go to the dark side, Clint?
We broke weed together.
- We were gonna make the world a better place, man.
What happened?
- Ain't no money in making the world better, dipshits.
OK, what's it gonna take to make this go away?
- Uh, we want you to pass
Pocahontas Warren's climate change bill.
- [groans]
My Republican base doesn't believe in global warming
or passing legislation.
I'd rather write you a huge check.
- Only thing we ever wanted money for was
a new foot for Freddy.
- A new foot? That's it?
The Senate has the technology for that.
- Wow, so I can really have a real foot again?
No shit? - I shit you not,
you foul smelling gimp.
- So the photos for the foot, that's the deal?
- We can take a secret elevator down to a secret room
and give Fat Freddy a new fat foot right now.
- It's Freddy, man. It's his life.
- Deal? - Deal.
- Deal. - Deal.
- Deal! - Deal.
- Deal.
Wait, what the fuck are we doing?
I thought the plan was for me to shit on his desk.
- We've built the most sophisticated
3D printer in the world.
Can spit out anything, from body parts to smart bombs
to Tender Greens menus.
God dammit! Mike Pence?
- Isn't that the ass-licker that used to be Vice President?
- Michael, are you 3D printing another male Swedish intern?
- Maybe.
[air hissing]
- Hello. I am Sven,
- You won't be needing this, Sven.
[shredding]
- Nice to meet!
- And you said Washington's full of
nothing but grifters and perverts.
- All right, stumpy.
Place your good foot under the scanner.
[mechanical whirring]
[soft patriotic singing]
- Oh! Holy cow, it's a real foot!
[sniffing]
It doesn't smell bad yet but I'll fix that.
- That beauty was cloned from Arnold Palmer's DNA,
the whitest of white men! [chuckling]
Cherish it.
- Well, you wanna take it for a test drive, Freddy?
- Do I?
[Adam Ant's "Goody Two Shoes"]
Oh, my God, it's like I have wings!
[vocalizing]
♪ ♪
- Uh-huh, that's right! - Whoa!
- Go, Freddy!
Get it, Freddy! - Whoa!
- ♪ Goody two, goody two, goody, goody two shoes ♪
♪ Goody two, goody two, goody, goody two shoes ♪
♪ Must be something inside ♪ - Whoo!
Guys, don't look so sad. I got my new foot, see?
[scatting]
- That's great, Freddy. We're happy for you.
But we just heard the climate bill is dead.
- The grim reaper, Mitch McConnell, is gonna kill it.
- Too bad you guys couldn't find any dirt
I could use to stop him.
- So nobody's gonna do anything to stop global warming?
- All the older generation cares about is themselves.
So what if the planet won't still be here
for my generation. [grunts]
[huffs] What does it matter anyway?
♪ ♪
- All right, hand over the photos.
I gotta go throw out the first pitch at a dogfighting match.
- The deal's off, Marilyn Manson.
You said new foot or climate bill.
Well, I changed my mind.
[loud pop]
[grunts]
- What the hell you doin', Freddy?
- I'm sacrificing my foot so that our planet--
uh... - Earth.
- Yeah, Earth, will be here for the next generation.
This is for you, Camille! [grunts]
[screaming]
It hurts! Ow, it hurts! - Phantom pain.
I always thought it was a myth. I'm glad I got to see this!
- Now, Clint, I know you're fixing to welch
on our deal for the climate bill
so I'm gonna give these photos to our good friend Liz Warren.
If you don't pass the bill, she'll send 'em to
every serious news outlet in the US of A, plus MSNBC.
- There's no such thing as friends in Washington;
just winners and losers.
[shredding] [all shouting]
- What the fuck?
- You lose, losers!
[laughs] - Hey, what the hell?
- Sorry, y'all, but I'm polling behind in my reelection bid,
so Pale Face here is gonna push some voters my way.
- You bitch!
- I can't fight for change if I ain't in the game.
That's politics.
- Well, it ain't right.
You promised to help and you went back on your word.
That's Indian giving.
- [gasps] You can't say that to me.
I'm 1/16th offended!
- You know, Clint, Fat Freddy has more patriotism
in his one good foot than you got in your entire flabby,
grotesque body that we all had the misfortune to see naked!
- Uh, I'm good with that.
- Oh, yeah? Well, are you good with this?
- [grunting]
Oh! That cat just gave the best wattle massage of my life.
Woo!
If and when I deport Raúl, she's got a job.
[pneumatic tube hissing]
- Anyone else think that Indian chick was into me?
- Nothing says "welcome home" like homemade cider
served in these beauties
from our glassblowing class in Williamsburg.
- Says "made in China."
- Williamsburg was closed.
We got them on Amazon. The cider too.
- We can't believe you guys got Freddy a foot!
How'd you do it?
- No one cares how. The man got a foot.
Let's just leave it at that!
- [gagging] - Ja, ja!
- [screams]
Oh, my God, Sven!
What happened to your foot?
- I don't know!
- Uh, guys? I hate to be a Debbie Downer
but he has two left feet. - Who cares?
The important thing is I fucked Elizabeth Warren.
[laughter]
- All right, you libtards.
It's time to Safety Dance.
♪ We can dance if we want to ♪
♪ We can leave your friends behind ♪
♪ 'Cause your friends don't dance ♪
♪ And if they don't dance ♪
♪ Well, then they're no friends of mine ♪
I don't have any friends.
♪ We can go where we want to ♪
♪ A place where they will never find ♪
♪ And we can act like we come from out of this world ♪
♪ Leave the real one far behind ♪
♪ And we can dance ♪ - ♪ Or sing ♪
- Oh, yeah.
Have you ever seen the music video for this song?
It's weird as shit.
♪ We can dance where we want to ♪
♪ Night is young and so am I ♪
♪ And we can dress real neat from our hats to our feet ♪
♪ And surprise 'em with the victory cry ♪
Mitchie say!
♪ Say, we can act if we want to ♪
♪ If we don't, nobody will ♪
♪ And you can act real rude and totally-- ♪
[bold fanfare]