(tranquil music)
♪♪ ♪♪
(indistinct chatter)
CAMPER: Whoa!
SASQUATCH: (grunts)
(people screaming)
(harsh electronic music)
CARRIE: Excuse me.
I am Professor Dong.
I have to use the bathroom.
Well, we're almost there. Can you wait an hour?
No, I, like, really have to go.
Well, there's a rest area up ahead.
It's not far, so...
All right.
(phone chimes and rumbles)
Did you post a video from your cousin's wedding?
Maybe. Why?
Did she text you?
Miranda, why in God's name would you post that?
Well, 'cause it was funny.
She would like you to take it down.
Okay, Mom, this Carrie video is, like, the best thing
I've ever posted. Okay, my account is blowing up.
Stop.
Your cousin was really embarrassed.
She doesn't need to relive that over and over again.
Yeah, I guarantee you other people
‐posted that shit too. ‐ED: Language.
JOANNE: Listen, she's being attacked.
Do you think she really deserves that
for your online popularity?
‐Kind of. ‐Kind of?
Yo, she was the one who was being all racist and shit.
ED: Hey, language.
Oh, my God, Dad,
can you just back me up here?
Well, I would say that...
nobody is in the right here, so...
‐(clears throat) ‐Take it down.
No, no, it's my social media account.
‐I am not asking. ‐Excuse me?
What is this, like, the government of China?
You can just tell me what I can and can't post?
‐Ed, stop the car. ‐ED: Sure.
Oh, my God, Dad, don't take her‐‐Dad.
‐JOANNE: Stop the car. ‐Oh, my God.
‐You're being insane. ‐JOANNE: No, I am not.
MIRANDA: Dad, what are you doing?
(chuckles) Mom!
You look crazy. You look crazy, Mom.
‐Hey, delete the video. ‐MIRANDA: What are you doing?
Delete it.
MIRANDA: Mom, we're literally on‐‐
‐Miranda, delete the video... ‐MIRANDA: Mom!
JOANNE: Or I will!
MIRANDA: Mom, this is child abuse!
‐ED: Whoa, whoa, whoa. ‐MIRANDA: This is child abuse!
(electronic music)
♪♪ ♪♪
JOANNE: Can you just stop staring at your phone
even for a few minutes?
I already deleted the video. Can you just leave me alone?
Just look how nice it is outside,
and you're missing it all.
It's a bunch of trees, Mom. It's boring.
You know, I think we should ban devices
from our cottage from now on.
MIRANDA: Oh, my God, whatever.
Okay, then I won't come.
Okay, you know what?
If you dislike us so much, you can forget about us
ever buying you a phone ever again.
Ugh.
JOANNE: Okay? No more upgrades,
no more replacements for cracked screens.
That is your last one.
I need to use the bathroom.
Oh, my gosh, we will be there soon.
No, I need to go to the bathroom right now.
(upbeat pop music)
♪♪ ♪♪
(camera beeps)
CASTING DIRECTOR: Hey, Karan. Thanks for coming in.
Hi.
CASTING DIRECTOR: You have any questions
‐about the script at all? ‐No, I think I'm good.
CASTING DIRECTOR: Okay, well, sorry about this,
but we don't have a reader for you today, so...
Oh, that's okay, so I'll just read with you?
CASTING DIRECTOR: No, I have to operate the camera.
This schlocky show didn't give me an assistant,
so don't worry about it. I rigged something up.
Oh, uh, you rigged‐‐what is it?
CASTING DIRECTOR: All right, slate whenever you're ready.
Oh, uh, okay, sure.
Hi, I'm Karan Soni. I'm 5'9".
I'm reading for Adani Brockman in "Arthur's Disaster Day."
Arthur, hurry, something went wrong
with the printing machine.
CASTING DIRECTOR: Alexa, play track one.
ALEXA: Now playing track one.
ARTHUR: What happened?
You must have switched the yearbook pages
and your diary, which means‐‐
CASTING DIRECTOR: Alexa, play track two.
ALEXA: Now playing track two.
ARTHUR: What does that mean? Let me try it again.
What does that mean?
You published your diary, and now‐‐
ARTHUR: One more. What does that mean?
You published your diary,
and you handed it to the entire school,
and Heather's reading it right now.
CASTING DIRECTOR: Alexa, play track three.
ALEXA: Now playing "Bad to Me" by Carly Bubbles.
CASTING DIRECTOR: God‐‐
CARLY BUBBLES: ♪♪ Again, it's complicated ♪♪
CASTING DIRECTOR: Alexa.
CARLY BUBBLES: ♪♪ Forever don't exist ♪♪
CASTING DIRECTOR: Alexa.
Alexa, play track three.
ALEXA: Now playing track three.
ARTHUR: I'm having a disaster of a day.
You said it.
CASTING DIRECTOR: Okay, Karan, that was great.
Karen‐‐it's a K‐‐
It's the word "car" and the word "an"‐‐Karan.
CASTING DIRECTOR: It doesn't matter.
ALEXA: Reminder, Krispy Kreme donuts
are fresh for another 15 minutes.
CASTING DIRECTOR: Oh, fuck, 15 minutes, yeah.
‐Oh, hey, Karan. ‐KARAN: Oh, hey.
‐Can I get this‐‐ ‐CASTING DIRECTOR: No.
We don't validate.
(camera beeps)
(owl hoots)
(acoustic music)
CAMPER: Hey!
(energetic folk music)
♪♪ ♪♪
(trumpet blares)
STEWARD: Your Highness, I'm happy to inform you
that there's peace and prosperity
throughout the kingdom.
Oh, that's just lovely.
What a wonderful day it's going to be.
(wind whooshes)
KING: Hm?
Ah, I got a petal in my eye.
Soldiers!
Search the kingdom for whomever is responsible
and bring him to me!
Roger that.
‐You there! ‐(baby screams)
‐SOLDIER: Get out! ‐MOTHER: Oh, no!
‐PEASANT: Leave us alone! ‐SOLIDER: Do as I say!
Capture him!
That stone looks unturned! Turn it!
‐What's underneath? ‐Another stone, sir.
Turn it again!
We have found the perpetrator, Your Highness.
♪♪ ♪♪
KING: Little flower, for committing crimes
against the crown, you shall now die.
(cheers and applause)
Serves you right, you pouncy petal pusher!
Have you any last words?
Yeah, so it was my petal, and I'm really sorry
to any king who feels let down by this,
and I'm really sorry to my fans.
Look, I take responsibility for the petal,
but the wind should be the big culprit, right?
I mean, he actually, like, took it and put it
‐in His Majesty's eye. ‐KING: Oh, the wind, huh?
Well, I hereby call for a ruthless,
kingdom‐wide search for this "the wind."
SOLDIER: This child looks suspicious.
‐Take him away. ‐MOTHER: My child!
Seize him! Seize her!
‐Burn it all! ‐(dragon roars)
♪♪ ♪♪
You are under arrest for high treason, wind.
♪♪ ♪♪
Huh?
(cheers and applause)
What have you got to say now,
then, you bastard blowhard, you?
I take these allegations very seriously,
and I will look into my routines,
but let's talk about the real perpetrator here,
a traitor within the castle walls.
KING: Alas, who has deceived me?
Well, it's your eyelid, Your Majesty.
What's been in front of you the whole time
has played you like a bloody bugger.
He failed to protect your eye and should therefore
be held responsible.
(gasps) My own eyelid.
Arrest him, boys!
(soldiers grunt)
Blinking bastard!
Wait, what? It wasn't me!
KING: Oh, come on. We've got to execute someone.
Who was it then?
It was...um...
foreigners!
Oh, I knew it!
(cheers and applause)
Prepare for war
against the foreigners!
(solemn folk music)
NARRATOR: We have been fighting the foreigners
for as long as anyone can remember.
No one knows what started it all,
but one thing is for certain.
Those foreign bastards had it coming.
♪♪ ♪♪
(upbeat electronic music)
♪♪ ♪♪
What is this?
The last toilet before we get to the cottage.
Well, what toilet?
There.
(eerie music)
(crows caw)
Uh, that is not a toilet.
ED: Sure it is. Read the sign.
♪♪ ♪♪
Seriously?
Well, you have to go, don't you?
Look, your mom and I were just in Morocco, remember?
And I can guarantee you it was way worse over there.
Here, you're gonna need these.
Okay, boomer.
ED: Whoa, whoa, hey, don't call us boomers.
We're Gen X, all right?
Nirvana, "Slacker," Woodstock '94.
We were the original cool generation.
I can't believe she just called me a boomer.
Boomer.
This drive sucks.
Oh, my God.
(flies buzzing)
(gags)
Oh, my God.
(sighs)
(phones beeping)
Oh!
Oh, shit.
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.
Shit.
(phone chimes)
No.
(breathes deeply)
No, ugh.
(coughs) Oh.
Okay.
(straining audibly) Oh, my God.
(grunts) Come on.
Get‐‐come here.
Come here, come here, come here.
(grunts)
‐(phone chimes) ‐Oh, come on.
Oh, my God. Don't fucking look.
Okay, okay.
Okay.
Ew, ew, ew.
Just‐‐all right, just‐‐
Come on.
Shit.
Ugh, no.
Okay.
Okay, um...
(sighs) Okay.
(coughs)
(coughing)
(whines) Okay, okay, okay.
Okay.
Okay, okay.
(screams)
CAMPER: Now!
CAMPER: (laughs) Whoo‐hoo!
(clattering experimental music)
♪♪ ♪♪
(upbeat acoustic music)
♪♪ ♪♪
(punchy electronic music)
(fish chanting) Deep sea predators!
ANGLER FISH: Yes, let me hear it!
Deep sea predators!
Listen, the problem with our society
is that it's a society of conformists.
These are people that expect you to stay
at the bottom of the food chain,
wag your little tail, and swim away
when the bigger guys show up.
You know what I say? I say screw that!
Because there are no microorganisms.
ANTON: Excuse me, sorry.
ANGLER FISH: There are only micro attitudes.
You know, people come to me all the time,
and they say, "Thanks for the top food chain method.
"I'm eating organisms twice my size,
and I maybe have lost weight."
(cheers and applause)
Oh, okay, I see some new faces in the crowd tonight.
Uh, yeah, you I the back with the yellow inner organs.
What, me?
ANGLER FISH: What's your name? Where you from, man?
Oh, I'm Anton.
I'm from the other side of that bit of kelp over there.
ANGLER: All right, well, let's make some noise
for Anton from the other side of the kelp.
Come on, everybody, give him a hand!
Get him up here!
Okay, wow, thank you.
Talk to me, man.
Where are you‐‐ what are you doing here?
Well, I want to become a better writer.
Sometimes people even laugh at me
at the poetry clubs, and I really think‐‐
I imagine that's not the response you want...
‐No. ‐At the club.
Yeah, no, no.
And so what you are telling me is that you actually need
to gain respect from your peers.
ANTON: Yeah, yeah, I suppose.
Respect, my friend, is all about who is dominant
in the current situation, and I think
you already know what you should do...
Uh...
'Cause you're gonna eat all those other poets.
‐Eat what? ‐Listen, Anton.
Do you want to be on the bottom,
or do you want to be on the top, my friend?
I am serious.
You could go back to your shit life
and be some bottom‐feeding loser
from the other side of the kelp,
but I have a feeling you're here
because you're the kind of organism
that strives for greatness. Am I wrong?
No, I want to be the best. I really do.
Look at me and say it after me.
‐Huh! ‐Huh.
‐Louder, huh! ‐Huh!
Look at this guy. Isn't he a deep sea predator?
Say "I am going to eat those other poets."
I‐‐uh...
Leave the weakness behind, Anton.
I'm going to eat the other poets!
I say hell yes!
You have witnessed the birth of a predator, people!
Okay, wow, whoo!
I'm gonna eat them.
(fish cheering)
Yeah.
(camper sobbing)
(camera shutter clicks)
LUMBERJACK: (screams)
SASQUATCH: Oh.
(upbeat music)
♪♪ ♪♪
Hm.
Hmm.
(crocodile roars)
♪♪ ♪♪
(sighs)
(phone beeping)
She better not be sitting there on her phone.
(chuckles) She probably is.
I'm just gonna check on her.
Ed, help me!
‐Jesus, what is happening? ‐JOANNE: She fell in.
ED: She fell‐‐what, someone leave
‐the seat up or something? ‐JOANNE: It's not funny, Ed!
ED: Hey, I'm not trying to be funny, Jo!
How else are you supposed to fall in?
‐JOANNE: (gasps) ‐ED: Oh!
(gags) Oh, it's worse than Morocco.
‐Okay, baby! ‐ED: What, she's down there?
‐JOANNE: Yeah‐‐Miranda? ‐ED: Sweetie?
Honey, we're gonna get you out, okay?
Oh, my God, she's unconscious.
Oh, my God, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Okay, I can't‐‐ okay, I'm gonna grab her arms.
‐Yes, you hold my legs. ‐Okay.
And then I'm gonna‐‐ you're gonna pull us back up.
‐Wait, what? ‐Hold my legs!
‐Okay, okay! ‐Okay, got 'em?
‐Do you have them? ‐Yes, got your legs.
Okay, do not drop me.
I won't.
Okay, oh, God.
ED: Oh, wow.
JOANNE: (straining)
Okay...
(coughing)
Okay, I got her!
Okay.
‐JOANNE: Pull, Ed! ‐Pulling.
‐JOANNE: Ed, pull! ‐Pulling!
Pull, Ed! (coughs)
‐(straining audibly) ‐JOANNE: Pull harder!
(coughing)
Here we go. Got you.
(gags) Ed, pull.
(straining audibly) Pulling!
(coughing)
Ugh! Jo?
Jo, you have to pull yourself up!
(soft dramatic music)
Jo, my grip is slipping!
♪♪ ♪♪
Jo!
♪♪ ♪♪
Hey‐‐hey, guys?
Oh, no.
(upbeat music)
♪♪ ♪♪
‐(clear music) ‐CHORUS: ♪♪ Yes ♪♪