[mellow acoustic music playing]
Okay, it's bottom-line time.
Who are you people, and what is all this?
[The Commander] You've got questions. That's understandable.
Yeah, starting with, "What the hell's TCB?"
All in good time.
Which happens to be right now. [chuckles]
- Have a seat, sir. - Who's this?
Oh, you're not the only connoisseur of exotic pets.
This is mine. His name's Doyle.
- I actually went to Columbia Law School. - And now he picks up my dry cleaning.
So, yeah, joke's on me.
[The Commander] Yes, it is.
Shall we?
Did somebody order a total mindfuck?
- I thought we told you no more robes. - Yeah, but come on!
How many times does a neighbor die who wears the exact same size as me?
Whoa, now, hang on. What the hell is that thing?
A little something I call "enhanced being-there-ness."
I thought we were calling it "virtual reality."
"Virtual reality"? That's literally an oxymoron.
Maybe try not being that stupid?
[laughs]
Now, just relax.
[ominous music playing]
[feedback squeals]
[film projector whirring]
[gentle angelic music playing]
[Elvis] What the hell?
Hi there. Welcome to TCB.
What's TCB?
Well, it stands for "The Central Bureau,"
and it's been keeping America safe since long before you kids were even born.
Huh? How so?
Put it this way.
If it wasn't for TCB,
half of you'd be toiling in a Japanese salt mine right now,
and the other half would be selling fetish sex for food
in a Soviet worker's paradise.
What's fetish sex?
[laughs]
Kids are so stupid.
Allow me to introduce myself.
I am the Commander, the latest in a long, illustrious line of TCB commanders
who have quietly shaped history into the very world you live in today.
All through the secret power of TCB.
1952. World's first hydrogen bomb.
We checked a big box with that one.
At the time, many asked, "Why?"
But at TCB, we ask,
"Why the hell not?"
[chuckles]
But our technology is nothing without the secret agents to use it.
And that's where you come in.
Now, if you're watching this, that means you're probably pretty famous.
Congrats on that, by the way.
And not just for the fame,
but more importantly, for the will to succeed.
The kind of iron will that says
you'll kill what you love and eat it in a snow cave just to stay alive.
Because that's what it takes to be a celebrity in America.
Oh, doors opened wide for people like Marilyn,
just like they do for you.
And that's why for over 100 years, TCB has utilized celebrities
to infiltrate, instigate, appropriate, and if this thing in Prague works out,
fumigate to keep America safe.
Ben Franklin?
- [electricity crackles] - [screams]
That guy was fucking dark.
And like him, as a celebrity, you're an influencer.
What you think matters to the world,
which is just one of the many ways
TCB has quietly shaped the world into what it is today.
You're welcome.
But remember, at TCB, we don't just bend civilization to our will,
we also like to have fun!
We even have an annual company retreat.
But not at the beach anymore.
The last time we tried that, it turned into what you know as the Bay of Pigs.
- [gunfire] - So, lesson learned.
So, welcome to the team.
And remember, you're not just a celebrity anymore.
You're a gladiator for American greatness.
[laughs]
Dear God, their abs are like a basket of snakes.
[heroic music playing]
And, what, you expect me to believe all that?
I think you and I both know you already do.
So, what do you think?
Kick-ass spy gadgets?
Kind of the whole point.
Saving America?
Practically every day.
Insanely dangerous?
I can almost guarantee a very abrupt, violent death.
Your training starts soon. Be ready.
Guess I'll be seeing you around, CeCe with an "E."
Uh, hang on. You can't leave with that suit.
Need that back.
I've been to the moon and back in this thing.
Pretty sure I earned it.
♪ This was gonna be the night tonight ♪
♪ I was gonna get to hold you tight ♪
♪ But I guess we didn't plan it right... ♪
[man] Oh! Sorry, Miss Nesbit. You are out.
- [man chuckles] - Motherfucker.
♪ ...to rhumba in a sports car... ♪
Oh come on.
Who doesn't love Elvis?
That man's a menace.
He looks like a male prostitute hairdresser.
[chuckles]
But not too hard to look at.
♪ When a little kiss I want to steal ♪
♪ I hit my head Against the steering wheel... ♪
Ooh, and don't even get me started on his butt.
That man's got an ass like a mountain lion.
[high-pitched squeal]
[screams]
[shrieks]
[roars]
[screaming]
♪ You can't move forward or back ♪
It's working even better than we anticipated.
[screaming]
[man, on phone] Response rate?
Over 50%.
Hold on a second.
[howling]
[Captain Kirk] Ensign. Are you okay?
[Bertie] That woman looks ridiculous.
Who even dresses like that flying around the galaxy?
Ooh, looks like jealousy wears a jungle cat-themed pantsuit in... Ow!
I don't do jealous.
I still can't believe you and Captain Kirk are a thing.
Well...
Okay, we're not really dating.
Although the other night, I did let him...
- Whoa, whoa, whoa! - No, thank you.
No, thanks. [laughs] I'm good.
What is wrong with you? Grow up.
Which I'd like to continue to do without images like that in my head.
Yeah, that's like walking in on your parents butt-naked,
but they're both getting boned by Captain Kirk.
- And nobody needs that. - [chuckles]
[Bertie] Speak for yourself.
Sorry to interrupt.
What? What in the hell is this?
Ah, Miss Bertie, I presume.
Let me guess.
You're the jackass who runs the stupid little secret club
that almost got my precious Elvis killed in a nuclear fireball.
God, I love your strength.
And he wasn't almost killed.
[laughs] Technically, he was slightly killed.
- Based on radiation... - Howard!
Are you ready? Because your training starts now.
Training? What are you talking about?
We're sending you on your first mission.
What? Hold the phone, jackass.
Sending him on his first mission is, by definition, not training.
Well, at TCB, we train by not training.
You actually think those words make sense?
We train by doing. By throwing you in the deep end.
Same way Vikings taught their babies how to swim.
And most of them probably did fine.
Oh, so you think you can just waltz right into my TV,
interrupting Bertie's Star Trek, and send me out on some mission?
Did I mention a jetpack may be involved?
- Where are we headed? - Familiar with Altamont?
- What's that? Some kind of Buick? - No, man.
It's like the Woodstock of the West, up in San Fran.
They're calling it the Summer of Love all over again.
Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it.
Hippie orgy concert kind of shindig. Got it.
Indeed. And you'll get briefed when you get to it.
Oh, and maybe wear something a little less... you.
Watch your speed.
They're filming a documentary up there.
Gonna be cameras around, so just make sure you blend.
[bluesy rock music playing]
You know what?
I actually make this look not ridiculous.
Yep, and not for nothing.
Pete Fonda's still calling,
asking when he's getting these motorcycles back.
What'd you tell him?
"What motorcycles?"
Good man.
[laughs]
Whoa. Hang on, E.
I thought this was gonna be, you know, just you and me cruising up the coast.
Kind of a guy's trip, as in not the...
[growling]
...chimp who just threatened to kill me in three different fucking ways.
[gibbers]
Yeah, well, right back at you, you furry little fuck!
Me again.
Oh dear Lord.
I'd like to circle back real quick
on something from earlier vis-à-vis you calling me a jackass,
and maybe walk you through why that doesn't happen.
Oh, I would, sweetie, but I can't
because I don't want to.
That probably was not the wisest course of action.
Spock, can I borrow your ears for Halloween?
This year I wanna go as an asshole in the peanut gallery.
[rock music]
- Oh! - [cackles]
[Elvis] And to think this all started with a kid named yours truly
buying a seven-dollar guitar at Tupelo Hardware.
Good God. Guess we can go ahead and check the healthy self-image box.
Oh good. It's, uh... you.
Fun outfit.
I'm trying to blend.
So, you're gonna tell me why I'm here?
[CeCe inhales]
'Cause this is starting to feel like a waste of my time.
And like every conversation I've ever had with Willie Nelson.
By the way, is he dead?
[groans]
- Nope. - Okay, here's the deal.
Some unknown bad guys stole some TCB technology
and may have turned it into a sort of sonic weapon.
The Commander thinks it might be here. Could be dangerous.
- Dangerous how? - I don't know. That's all we got so far.
That's pretty damn vague.
Which is half the fun!
That and the monkey who keeps giving me pot.
- Keep your eyes out for anything weird. - And the jetpack?
[laughs]
I so knew you'd fall for that.
Uh, yeah, there's no jetpack,
but you do get one of these, to stay in touch.
Well, enjoy the show,
which I couldn't help but notice you were not invited to play, by the way.
You can go now.
The fucking diaper? Seriously?
Not gonna wipe it off? Not even a little?
[band playing "White Rabbit"]
♪ One pill makes you larger ♪
♪ And one pill makes you small ♪
♪ And the ones that mother gives you ♪
♪ Don't do anything at all ♪
Yeah, no way this ends badly.
♪ Go ask Alice ♪
♪ When she's ten feet tall... ♪
[gibbers]
[sighs] Like a kid in the world's most fucked-up candy store.
Can you at least pretend to know what "pacing yourself" means?
I'm afraid not. The transporter's inoperative,
thanks to this drunk Scottish bastard.
I think we got off on the wrong foot.
Keep interrupting my damn stories!
Man, all you got are wrong feet.
How about this? Let me buy you a drink.
Oh, I get it.
- What? - Ha!
- You're one of those. - Excuse me?
A powerful man like you, used to getting what you want.
So you're secretly drawn to women who crap all over you.
I'm really not.
Good for you, then.
Now get your oddly-shaped head off my TV.
[inhales sharply]
That was hot.
[laughs]
Turns out I am.
Come on. How about dinner?
Drink, gas station popcorn. Something.
It's about more than just sex and drugs, man.
You know, this whole thing, man, it's about being free, right?
And I mean, like, with a capital "E."
[phone rings]
Hold that thought, Doug.
How's the blending going?
[cackling] Yeah!
- Best day ever... - [beer bottle shatters]
[retches]
Yeah, my boy Doug says hi.
Anything to report?
[Elvis on phone] Yeah, what do you know about the Hells Angels?
I know I dated one when I was 19 because my mom's a dick.
And the ones by the stage, they're working security for free beer,
sort of pro bono but for raging alcoholics.
- Not them. The fake ones. - [CeCe] What?
Those guys by the van who are dressed like,
but definitely are not, Hells Angels.
- [CeCe] How do you know that? - [Elvis] The jackets.
They don't have chapter patches. They're fake.
[gasps]
- Oh my God. - [Elvis] Yeah.
[CeCe] The Grateful Dead just got here.
Back in a jiff.
[Elvis] What the hell's a jiff?
I don't know. How long it takes to meet/ maybe blow Jerry Garcia. You tell me.
Seriously, I got plans.
Are you calling me a liar?
No, no. Of course not.
Though I have machines that can tell if you're lying.
Even a machine that can tell if you're thinking about lying
but are afraid to because it's so scary-looking.
And one that lies to itself about being a machine.
- But it committed suicide. - Howard!
[suspenseful music playing]
[grunts]
Can't be back here, little lady.
Says who?
Me. [chuckles]
Just now.
Yeah, I didn't mean it literally, dumbass.
It's a cliché. You know, like, don't look now, but...
[grunts]
Whoa, whoa, hang on. How'd you get past security?
Uh, quickly. Where the hell's the band?
- Not here yet. - But I saw their helicopter land outside.
Yeah, which they're currently getting high inside of.
- [men giggling] - [CeCe sighs]
[CeCe] God, I should have been in a band.
Sorry, pal. Off-limits back here.
You want to try that again?
Holy shit. Hey...
Hey! Hey, you're Elvis Presley.
So they tell me.
[Mick] All right, lady, look, you need to leave.
Relax. Jerry and I go way back.
Assuming recurring sex dreams count.
- What? - Oh my God. It's so amazing.
Middle of the night, he breaks into my house, he's dressed as Santa Claus.
And then he chokes me out in my shower, but it's in a hot way.
You know what? You're not his type, okay? Come on, let's go.
Oh, he's into dudes? That's cool. I can work with that.
Nope. Nope. Not gonna happen.
But if you're interested in sex with any of the other bands,
- you can take a number. - Excuse me?
I mean literally, in the groupie trailer next door.
[woman] The first page is a waiver. Read it carefully.
A "Cleveland Steamer"? Seriously?
[laughs] Yeah.
Not a fucking chance.
[Mick] Sorry, lady. Rules are rules.
I am an independent, empowered feminist woman,
which means I have meaningless sex in trailers on my own terms all the time.
I'm not sure that's what "feminist" means.
Hey. Hey, Elvis.
Hey, do you know what my favorite Elvis song is?
What? You only have one?
[guards cackle]
[man 1] Do I only...
- Buddy, you're beautiful. - What the...
[suspenseful music playing]
[screams]
[Robert Goulet] ♪ Goulet, Goulet ♪
[screams]
Scatter, 86 that bald prick!
[both grunt]
[rock music playing]
[feedback squeals]
[all scream]
[cheering]
[feedback droning]
[Scatter shrieks]
[grunts]
[growls]
[all howling]
[snarling]
Still a big fan, I hope.
Destroy that damn thing, Scatter!
[grunts]
[Scatter groans]
- [indistinct radio chatter] - Uh-huh.
Okay.
All right, the band's on their way. You gotta go.
- Way ahead of you, loser. - Groupie trailer to the right.
- Have a good time. Knock yourself out. - I'd rather choke on a pile of dicks.
That's actually in the waiver, by the way.
[man screams]
- What... - The hell?
[moaning]
[motorcycle engines revving]
[tires squealing]
That dude was harshing the vibe here, man.
And that's not cool.
You know, you and your buddies may not have a fucking clue,
or own pants, apparently, but you're all right.
[groans softly]
Anyone ever tell you you kind of look like Elvis...
[snarling]
[woman screams]
What do you think you're doing?
Oh, we're making a documentary about the show.
No, idiot. I mean, catching me on my bad side.
[Scatter whimpering]
Whoa, someone looks like absolute shit.
Where's the old man?
[gunfire]
- [woman shrieking] - Huh.
[rings]
What are you doing?
Talking on a phone that smells like Scatter's junk
and trying to do both our jobs.
Now, you mind?
- [dial tone buzzing] - Shit.
- Hey. - [snoring]
Hey, Bobby Ray. Wake up.
Wake up!
Oh man, this is gonna be so cool.
Ah! Ah!
What the fuck? What the fuck?
You want to tell me why there's a needle the size of a fucking ninja sword
sticking out of my head?
Not really.
You flown one of these before?
No, but this thing's just an upside-down riding lawn mower.
I got this.
[door slides closed]
Who are you again?
I'm George. George Lucas.
Okay. What are you doing?
It's gone full-on insane out there, so I'm hiding out here.
Uh-huh.
Well, George, from a safety standpoint, I'm not sure you improved your lot.
Yeah. Yeah. The lady may have a point.
[tires screech]
Time to mow the fucking lawn.
Woo-hoo!
Stay on target.
- [blades slicing] - [men screaming]
[grunts]
[car horns honking]
[truck horn blares]
- [gunshot] - Ah!
[Bobby Ray] Hey, E! Here you go!
- [electricity crackles] - [man screams]
Huh. Look at that.
Looks like some kind of laser sword.
More like a lightsaber.
Yeah, that works too.
[car horn blares]
[sighs] Damn it.
Here, hold this.
[both scream]
[yells]
[panting]
The missions always like this?
Only the good ones.
[The Commander, scoffing] You know, well,
hey, either way, hope you have a good time tonight.
Oh, I plan to.
Okay, yeah. Well, but somehow I doubt your dinner date will have
the commanding and compelling presence of, you know, yours truly.
[doorbell rings]
[chuckles] Wanna bet?
Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me.
Captain Kirk? For real?
[Scatter gibbering]
[Captain Kirk] Hey, Elvis. How you doing?
Not now, Kirk.
[phone line ringing]
- [The Commander, on phone] What? - Well, you're in a mood.
- Fucking Kirk. - What are you talking about?
- How'd it go? - Elvis tracked down that sonic weapon,
which makes people go fucking insane, by the way.
Where's the device?
- Bottom of the ocean. - [sighs]
Well, this day just keeps turning to shit, doesn't it?
Doyle! Come get a beating.
[Doyle] My pleasure, sir.
[upbeat rockabilly music playing]