Okay. Time to brainstorm album names.
Lay 'em on me, okay. There's no bad ideas.
All right, how's about "Feelin' Funkytronic"?
How about "Organic Love"?
(MUMBLES INDISTINCTLY)
"You Don't Bring Me White Fish."
"Jazzy Jazzy Arms Akimbo."
-"Bubblegum Dreams and Emotional Support." - Music!
-"He Who Rocked It, Rolled It." -"Give Me The Woman."
"The Sweet Smell of Sound."
-"Mr. Fluff and The Puff Police." - Songs!
-"Sergeant Pepper." - Music songs!
"Llamas Llamas Everywhere."
-"Finger Jams and Marshmallow Yams." -"Born to Rock."
"I Wish I Knew My Dad."
We made an album?
Stop!
(CLEARS THROAT) Maybe there are some bad ideas.
(OPENING THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
ANIMAL: Rock on! Rock on! Rock on!
(BAND MEMBERS SINGING)
Give me a break down, my brothers and sisters.
(ALL CLAPPING RHYTHMICALLY)
Sorry to stop the flow.
I figured it's time to talk strategy for selling our album.
This is the last song you're working on,
and it's time the world knows that you've been cooking up something fresh.
First things first, you gotta stop clapping.
- So... - LIPS: Oh.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
- Um, Zoot? - Okay.
Anyway, publicity for an album is almost as important as what's on it.
These days, there's really only one way to get the word out.
- Oversized billboards. - Windshield leaflets.
-This thing! - (FEEDBACK WHINES)
Yes, those were all options,
but I was moreso talking about the Internet.
And lucky for us, JJ is a tech wiz and he's here to help.
I know you guys are very proud of being an analog band.
ALL: Yeah.
- But welcome to the digital age. - FLOYD: Ooh.
JJ: Here, one for you. ZOOT: What the...
JJ: That's actually his. Okay. ZOOT: Huh?
Much obliged, but Lips is already the keeper of our communal phone-a-mobile.
Well, yeah. And I don't... (MUMBLES INDISTINCTLY) You know?
FLOYD: Yeah, I don't like it.
We all know that these were created by The Man
to spy on us with high tech trackery.
And, like, I'm focusing on self-betterment right now,
so I just can't become a cellular zombie with my head looking down all the time.
Also, it has no buttons. I don't trust anything with no buttons.
Like, even we have belly buttons. (WHISPERS) Mine's an innie.
- I got both kinds. In, and out. - Oh.
Actually, Zoot, you'll like the phone more than anyone
because, check it out, it's also a camera.
What do you mean? Where do the photos come out?
No, they don't come out. They go to the cloud.
Oh, man, I don't do so good on planes.
- Um... - Hey. Hi. Not to be this guy,
but are y'all sure this phone thing is a smart idea?
No. It's a brilliant idea.
Look, let's begin with the basics, Mayhem. Your first tweet.
Doc, this is all you. We all know you've got a way with words.
Absotively.
There's just so many to pick from.
Hmm.
Let's see.
- Ooh! I got it! I got it! - LIPS: All right.
(KEYPAD CLACKING)
Done.
You wrote the word "Tweet."
- Now, what? - Uh, now, you press "send."
- (PHONE CHIMES) - Now, what?
And now, the word is out and people will come.
Um...
Did the band just say "Tweet"?
ALL: Cool.
Are you guys doing Internet without me?
ALL: Cool.
Not cool.
Look, I get that you put JJ in charge of social media
because you're doing the whole power couple thing.
- But... - But it's a big mistake,
putting a label on things so soon. (SCOFFS)
What?
That's not what you were... I'm sorry.
We were talking about that earlier. It's moving too quickly.
It's all just like... 'Kay, you can continue. (CLEARS THROAT)
Look, all I'm saying is that social media is my literal job.
I would love to be a part of all of this.
That's exactly why I saved the best for you.
For reals?
'Cause you get Animal.
(SHOUTS) Ani... Animal!
More like "Hanimal."
Ooh, like "Bennifer," but better.
Oh, just you wait. We are going to break... No.
Destroy the Internet.
Ah, yeah. Destroy! Destroy! (LAUGHS)
Come on. We're gonna start by blinging out that collar.
ANIMAL: Oh!
Bling, bling! (LAUGHS)
Calling it now. This is all gonna blow up.
Man, we are blowing up.
The band's tweeting, Animal's getting glammed up.
What's next, Smooshie?
Next, you stop calling me "Smooshie."
And after that, we figure out a way to book the Hollywood Bowl
because I stupidly promised the band they'd play there.
Move in with me.
Whoa.
JJ, kind of feels like we're moving a little...
insanely fast.
No. Isn't it like we're just picking up where we left off?
Besides, work-wise,
it makes sense for us to maximize our time together.
That's true, but I've already settled in here with Janice and...
Right. I have four spare bedrooms at my place,
you're sleeping here in a pillow pile.
It's a pillow nest.
(CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS)
Thank you.
Huh?
Uh, cloud's broken.
(JJ SIGHS)
Look, no rush. But think about it.
(CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)
DR. TEETH: Hey.
Talk about a revelation of momentous proportions.
We twittered once, and now the world's twittering back.
Yeah.
The instant gratification is a hit of sheer dopamine
- surging through my cranium. I am sold. - (LIPS MUMBLING INDISTINCTLY)
Don't be.
The Mayhem doesn't tweet their fans online.
You meet your fans in real life and befriend them.
And tell them the very intimate details of your personal life.
But, like, now, we're socially connecting with, like,
way more people.
It's like a virtual Woodstock.
Yep, except maybe this time we remember it. (LAUGHS)
- (ALL LAUGHING) - JANICE: Wow. For sure.
Ooh! Lookie here.
Miss Taylor Swift and that Justin Bieber kid just followed us.
Oh, Beyoncé and Gaga just tweeted, "Whaddup?"
And Jack Harlow just, like, slid into my DMs.
Don't know what that means.
It'd be most disrespectful not to respond to them all.
- Agreed. - DR. TEETH: How's about something like,
"To our fellow music makers,
"you're all absotively tremendulous."
Right on.
"You are all truly talenticious,
-"with stupendorous fans." - Love it.
And, send.
PENNY: "To our fellow music makers.
"You're absolutely terrible.
"You're all truly talentless with stupid fans."
This is your idea of good publicity?
Now, to be clear,
the phone tarnishified my beauteous words for some strangestical reason.
It's because your words aren't actual words.
- The what? - Yeah, they were autocorrected.
Who is this smart guy and why is he talking to me?
Now, I'm even more aggravated.
Don't be, okay? I will figure out a way to fix this.
Yeah, while you're at it,
I'm out of Satan's Blow Out sauce, so you can fix that, too.
The hotter the better.
Whew!
Ain't she something?
This is craziness.
With one tweet you started beef with all of music.
No beef, please. My vegan belly rejects all bovine.
Yeah, we don't beef with nobody.
Well, except that one band from River Bottom.
Yeah, they were a nightmare.
So, when do I get my photos?
Okay, one thing at a time. Okay? First, damage control.
I'm sure JJ's got a way to fix this whole mess.
- (BRAKES SCREECH) - Hey, now!
(PEOPLE CHATTERING ANGRILY)
What's happening?
Trouble.
Are those Taylor Swift fans?
And our vengeance shall be swift.
(STAMMERING) Why they doin' that?
- Okay, Teeth. Get us out of here. - LIPS: Behind us!
You come for our queen, Beyoncé, you're gonna get stung.
Oh, we got the BeyHive in the back and the Beliebers in the front, y'all.
You better belieb it's go time.
Seems we've been emboxified in.
Oh, my Gaga! It's the Little Monsters!
Mayhem, come out to play.
- No, no, no! - It's too late now to say sorry!
- (YELLING) -"Who runs the world? Girls!"
Roar!
No. No.
- (FANS CLAMORING) - Oh, whoa!
- What do they want from us? - Vengeance.
Look, as a superfan myself, I know how it works.
You cold diss their leader? You cold diss 'em all.
But how do they even know where to find us?
It's the phones, man. I told you they track us!
Yeah. It's okay. Just everybody calm down!
(LIPS EXCLAIMING)
- (SCREAMS) They got Lips! - Bring him back!
Oh, they got the door!
- Oh, my God! - Oh, no! They got me.
(BAND MEMBERS SCREAMING)
- (POP MUSIC PLAYING) - (CAMERA SNAPPING)
(BLOWING)
- HANNAH: Yes, Animal. - Yuck. That's scratchy.
Hey. Oh, yes.
- How's breaking the Internet going? - Scratchy.
#Hanimal is absolutely killing it.
- Fork! - Although, he hates the tags.
Which is ironic because it's literally the whole reason we wear them.
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.
- Lock the door! - Go, go, go!
Hide! Everybody hide!
Hide? From who?
The Swifties. They're, like, tiny, but vicious hunters.
Little or not, they got Lips! And the Beliebers stole the van, man.
(ALL CLAMORING)
Okay. Everybody chill, all right?
- I saw the tweet. - And you're not freaking out?
No. A high-profile Twitter beef
is the best possible way for us to get back on everyone's radar.
But you guys are here, literally hiding from it.
Did he not hear about Lips?
Or the van. They got the van, man.
Yeah, and because of that tweet,
you got invited to play a virtual concert in Minecraft.
- Wow. Minecraft is huge, guys. - Yeah.
FLOYD AND JANICE: Ooh!
Wait, a virtual concert?
I thought we were working hard to book the band a real gig.
- Like, at the Hollywood Bowl. - Exactly.
Look, getting the band a bunch of fake friends online
is one thing, but now you want them to play a fake concert?
In front of millions of people, all at once, worldwide?
BOTH: Ooh!
I guess JJ wins. Virtual concert it is.
Hey, I'm sure it'll be great, Moog.
What'd I miss?
(NORA SINGING HAPPY BIRTHDAY ON VIDEO)
Why? I told you I hate birthdays.
But do you hate cupcakes?
Because I got your favorite. Come on, give her a sniff.
- Oh! - (NORA LAUGHS)
- You look so cute, Smooshie. - Smooshie?
- I'll show you Smooshie. - (LAUGHS)
Smooshie?
Sorry. Didn't realize you were awake. Kind of hard to tell.
Like, wow, I didn't know that you and JJ used to be, like,
lovey-dovey picnic pals.
Yup.
And now, JJ wants to pick up right where we left off.
And, like, that's a bad thing?
No.
JJ is everything I wanted.
Literally.
I broke up with him because he wasn't
serious or driven or showered.
And now, he's all of those things, but...
He's no Moog.
(CHUCKLES) Okay, Janice. Normally, you're cosmically in tune with me,
but this time, you're way off.
Am I, though?
From what my third eye sees, it's Moog who makes you smile more.
So?
Have I ever told you the story of the free-spirited lass
whose heart was, like, totally torn between two very different suitors?
- No, but, I... - One was a flashy, driven businessman,
who was, like, pure ambition.
And the other, was, like, a scruffy, aimless guitar player,
who just, like, made her smile.
Okay, Janice, clearly, the guitarist was Floyd and you're the girl.
No. Her name was Betty.
And while she was busy being all wishy-washy,
I swooped in and stole Floyd's heart.
Okay, and what happened to Betty?
The last I heard, she's now a lonely old bag lady,
who lives under a bridge in Paramus.
(YAWNS)
- Nighty-night. - But...
(SNORING)
(SLURPS)
Ah!
I gotta use the toilet.
Oh, yeah. 'Cause you drank four coconuts. (GRUNTS)
Why are these even here?
Snow cone.
Om-nom!
Sir, please stop eating the equipment
and get in position. That's behind the drums.
Okay, any movement you make
in your motion capture suits will be mirrored in the game.
Let's do this, people! Positions, everyone.
- Here we go! - You know the drill.
You open strong with Can You Picture That?
Ooh. I can picture that boring the virtual pants off our crowd.
What? It's their biggest hit.
And it's also their oldest. Look, the band is here
to discover a new audience.
So, they should open up with a song from their new album.
Oh, hey, songs one through 12 are my personal favorites. (LAUGHS)
Indeed, but our final track is a guaranteed-ified mind exploder.
Ooh, what about the We Are One one?
Oh, wow. Let's do it.
We're still figuring it all out, right?
You can't just go and play it live.
Uh, you of all Moogs, should know that
we are deeply adept at the avian art of winging it.
We're about to go live.
No winging it. Moog is right. Let's just do the hit everyone knows.
DR. TEETH: As you wish, Label Lady.
Plug us in.
Five, four, three, two, one.
ANNOUNCER: Miners, creepers, zombies. And Steve.
Put your blocky hands together to welcome The Electric...
Mayhem!
CROWD: Mayhem, mayhem, mayhem!
- Far out, man. - Oh, wow.
Well, all right.
Thank you, Minecraft youths and fellow foragers.
We're here to rock your blocks off with an oldie, but goodie.
Two, three, four...
Whoa! Hey. That would've hurt if that was real.
Wow, like, I'm totally sensing a blanket of digital darkness descending upon us.
- (OMINOUS MUSIC PLAYING) - (THUNDER RUMBLING)
Uh, dude...
I think we're all gonna die!
Fall in, Swifties. Let's knock their blocks off.
- What's happening? - It's the superfans.
It's all of them.
The Beliebers,
the BeyHive, Gaga's Little Monsters.
Little Monsters, prepare to attack.
MOOG: That's not all.
BTS ARMY, the... Rihanna's Navy.
Even the Natalie Merchant Marines.
Okay, now I'm worried.
(THUNDER RUMBLING)
FLOYD: They look mad and angry.
(BUZZING)
Like, the good news is, we've brought so many different fans together.
Yeah, in their hatred of us.
Yummy.
(YELPS AND GRUNTS)
- Oh, my God! - Lips!
What happened?
They're actually getting hurt right now, so maybe we could pull the plug.
- Don't pull the plug. - Moog is right. Pull the plug.
What plug? That's not how it works.
(EXPLOSIONS)
Nora, please.
You gotta trust me. Can you just trust me on this?
- Okay. - Okay, okay, um...
Attention, Electric Mayhem. There's been a change to the set list.
You know what to do.
Uh... We really don't.
What do we do?
Wing it.
For sure.
(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)
(CROWD CHEERING)
(SINGING)
(CROWD CHEERING)
Yeah!
(LIP-SYNCING ALONG)
Looks like we just got our final song.
Yup. And it just united all the fans with the whole world watching.
I just wanna hug you.
I'd say this calls for a celebration.
Shall we get Lips to call Diddy, maybe he could throw him a white party?
Actually, I was thinking something a little more colorful, you know?
Something more Mayhem.
ANIMAL: Higher!
Lower!
Higher.
Oh, yeah.
- Okay, switch. - Okay.
Once Hanimal trends worldwide, we can start wearing comfier clothes.
Yeah.
(CELL PHONES CLICKING)
Hello.
I finally throw you a classic Mayhem Kickback,
and you spend it all on your phones?
Only 'cause this Internet age is the biggest shindig of all time.
- All time. - Says here,
our virtual concert has been viewed two badrillion times.
- Mmm. - Not quite, but it's up there.
Hey, I forgot to mention.
I've started my own channel where I get to try hot stuff with my hot stuff.
Ha-ha! That would be me.
She's a spicy one, indeed.
You call this a spicy Trinidadian Scorpion pepper?
I felt nothing.
Wow. It's burning my eyes.
(CHUCKLES)
- Hey, Zoot. - Huh?
Grab your phone and come digitally photify my fiery fiesta.
Can't. Cloud's busted.
(THUDS)
Ooh! Janice, are you okay?
Never better. Oh, look, I have so many new follower friends.
And they're sending me little pictures of prayer hands
and hearts and rainbows and cupcakes.
Let's send them back tiny pictures of our favorite snacks.
- Apples and donuts and bananas... - Oh!
- ...and tacos and hot dogs and... Hmm? - Don't send those!
Wow. The band stuck on their phones during their party is bad enough,
- but you're down here working? - Actually, um,
I just finished.
- Wait, seriously? - Yeah. (CHUCKLES)
That virtual concert gave us our last song.
The Electric Mayhem officially has their first album.
(CHUCKLES)
And that smile made it all worth it.
(CELL PHONE CHIMES)
No way.
- (CELL PHONE CLICKING) - Oh! (CHUCKLES)
There you go.
We did it.
- Did what? - The Hollywood Bowl just called.
They saw the virtual concert and offered the band the real deal!
- Power couple, am I right? - You're right.
You know what? I'll do it.
I will move in. It just... It makes sense.
(EXCLAIMS)
She's moving in!
There they are.
Say cheese.
- (CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS) - Nice.