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Dude, Where's My Lab?/Transcript

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This is a complete transcript of the episode Dude, Where's My Lab?.

Transcript

Donald: Okay, now we'll check your bionic reflexes. First the left arm.

Adam: Ohh!

Donald: Okay, now the right arm.

Adam: Ohh! Oh, I hate this game!

Donald: Okay, Adam. Well, you can sit this one out. I'll just do Bree and Chase.

Adam: Ohh!

Leo: Come on, Big D, it's summer vacation! Let's hit the beach. Slap on some shorts and show everyone your pasty little walking sticks!

Donald: Not now, Leo. We're doing some routine bionic chip maintenance. Besides, this is fun, right, guys?

Adam: Good times.

Chase: A blast.

Bree: Okay, are we done here? I wanna go be normal for a while!

Tasha: Can't we go just five minutes without something sparking, exploding, or oozing around here? Ever since summer vacation started, it has been like one long science experiment.

Donald: I'm sorry, honey. I... you know... maybe... maybe Leo's right. Maybe we need to take a break and go to the beach.

Adam: Ahh!

Bree: Yeah!

Donald: We'll take a whole weekend, as a normal family, you know? No gadgets, no phones. We'll do it totally tech-free.

Tasha: Oh, that is exactly what I need. You would really do that for me?

Donald: Of course. You are way more important to me than the amazing innovations born of my genius.

Leo: Wow, Big D, it's really nice of you to blow off work for my mom.

Donald: Well, you know, Leo, now and then, everybody needs a little piece and...

( Klaxon blares )

Donald: Quiet!

Chase: It's the early warning satellite system.

Donald: It's detecting a giant solar flare. When that thing hits the atmosphere, it'll cause massive power failures and a total blackout of satellite communications.

Leo: Okay, I should tell my mom we're not going to the beach, then.

Donald: No, no, no, no. Don't tell your mom a thing about this.

Chase: Oh, right. Let's just ignore the biggest solar flare in history to keep the little lady happy.

Donald: Don't worry about the solar flare. I'll handle it. Just pack your stuff in the R.V. and get ready to get your beach on! I know nobody says that. I know that.

Chase: Adam, safety goggles aren't going to protect our eyes from the solar flare.

Adam: No, but it will protect us from the glare when pasty-legs Davenport puts on his shorts!

. . .

Donald: All right, Tasha, your totally tech-free weekend starts now.

Tasha: Great. I'm gonna go claim our spot. If we wait too long, we're gonna end up sitting next to talkers. I hate friendly people.

Donald: You go ahead. I'll be right there.

Tasha: Okay.

Donald: Okay. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Where do you guys think you're going? Did you forget about the solar flare?

Chase: What do you expect us to do? Bionics can't stop a solar flare.

Donald: No, but I have something that can.

R.V.: Identity authorized.

Donald: Welcome to the Davenport Industries mobile action lab.

Leo: Very impressive, Big D. You're the master of the ta-da moment!

Donald: ♪ Ta-da ♪ I call her the ugly lady because it's what's on the inside that counts. You guys will launch the rocket just like in your training simulations. It will block the solar flare by releasing a cloud of heavy gas into the atmosphere.

Bree: Ooh.

Adam: Cool!

Bree: Sweet!

Adam: You're goin' down, sun!

Donald: This supercomputer is calculating the precise time that you need to launch the rocket. It could be minutes, it could be hours. You'll just have to wait and see.

Bree: In here? But we're supposed to go to the beach.

Donald: Yeah, and I was supposed to be six-foot-one. Life is full of disappointments.

Chase: Great. So we all have to pay the price for another short guy with an axe to grind.

Donald: Look, guys, focus. It takes all three of you to initiate the sequence. Once the alert sounds, you'll have a 2-hour window to launch the rocket before the flare becomes unstoppable. Got it?

Bree: Yeah, we got it. Saving the world's gonna ruin my vacation. Stupid world!

Tasha: Guys, come on! You're missing all the fun! There is a bulldog in sunglasses riding a surfboard!

( violent splash )

Tasha: Ooh! Never mind!

Donald: Be right there, honey! Look, as soon as you guys launch the rocket and save the world, you can get outta here and go get your beach on.

Leo: Wow.

Donald: What, still nothing? You know what? I don't need your approval. I'm rich!

Leo: Am I the only person who thinks launching a rocket is cool? Big D, go slather on some SPF fifty... thousand. I got this.

Donald: No, the only thing you've got is the uncanny ability to break the most expensive thing in the room.

Leo: Is this about your guitar?

Donald: What about my guitar?

Leo: Let's go! We're missing the surfing bulldog!

Donald: What about my guitar?

. . .

Tasha: Ah, listen to that-- no phones ringing, no gadgets buzzing. Just the sounds of nature and...

( dog barking )

Tasha: A bulldog barking up seaweed.

Leo: Yep. There's nothing more fun than sitting completely still in direct sunlight for hours on end. My back sweat is headed towards unnatural places.

Donald: Leo, come here. I still have to secretly supervise the mission from here, so how would you like to be my covert communications liaison?

Leo: Is this like the time you tricked me into doing the dishes by calling me your culinary implement decontaminator?

Donald: Yeah, pretty much. Observe. Well, Leo, you look, uh, parched. Let me get you a frosty beverage. Drink up.

( dialing )

Leo: It's a secret can-phone!

( ringing )

Donald: There is no such thing as a tech-free weekend.

( telephone ringing )

Bree: Super-boring mission headquarters. Bree speaking.

Leo: Hey, Bree. How's the mission?

Tasha: Leo, what are you drinking?

Leo: Call-you-back cola.

Tasha: You know you're not supposed to drink soda. It makes you all jumpy. Give me that. Now!

( crackling and whirring )

Donald: I knew I should have sprung for the whole six-pack.

Leo: Well, I'm sorry, Big D. Looks like I'm gonna have to check in with 'em the old-fashioned way-- with my feet, my face, and a whole lot of this.

Donald: Yeah. Just hurry back, will ya? The only reason I'm letting you go in the first place is so you stop doing that anywhere near me.

. . .

Leo: Hey, super sibs. How's the mission going?

Adam: This stinks! We're gonna waste the whole stupid day in this stupid lab waiting for this stupid computer. It's all just so... dumb!

Leo: Why don't you take turns coming to the beach with me?

Chase: We can't. The launch procedure requires all three of us.

Adam: Mmm, but if there are three of us plus one, then two can stay and two can go until we need three, and then one can stay and one can run and get the one who's having fun with the other one. Wait. Somebody check my math.

Chase: He's right. Someone pat him on the head and give him a biscuit.

Bree: Cool, so one of us can leave.

Chase: I think that we should put it up to a...

Bree: Me first! Come on, Leo!

( whoosh )

( Leo cries out )

Chase: ...vote! Hey, super speed does not overrule democracy! They're gone!

Adam: So gone!

Chase: This is not fair!

Adam: So not fair!

Chase: She is not gonna get away with this!

Adam: So not gonna get away with this!

Chase: You know what? I'm gonna march right down to that beach and I'm gonna find her, even if it takes me all day.

Adam: Yeah! You go with your bad self! Make her pay! Wait, did he just do what I think he did? He did! He went to the beach without his sun hat! Chase, you're gonna get a sunburn!

( Klaxon blares )

R.V.: Launch window open.

( Klaxon blares )

. . .

Bree: Chase, what are you doing here?

Chase: Watching this guy. People keep giving him money, but he just won't leave.

Leo: You're supposed to be watching the mobile lab.

Chase: No worries. Adam's watching it.

Adam: What's up, beach bums?

Chase: Adam, what are you doing here?

Adam: Well, I wanted an ice cream cone, but they had 21 flavors. And you know me-- I'm never one to make an uninformed decision.

Leo: Adam, get rid of those. We need to get back to the mobile lab.

Adam: Oh, right. Free ice cream! Oh, and don't worry, it's barely licked.

. . .

Bree: Where's the mobile lab? It was parked right here.

Leo: It's gone!

Chase: Okay, all right, nobody panic.

( shrieking )

Adam: Sorry. Brain freeze. Where's the R.V.?

. . .

Bree: How could the mobile lab just disappear?

Adam: Maybe it got tired of waiting and it split like we did.

Bree: We have to tell Mr. Davenport.

Chase: Oh, yeah? And what are we gonna tell him? "Hey, remember that really easy mission where all we had to do was sit around and wait? Well, guess what-- we totally blew it, and the world is toast. Oopsie!"

( siren squawks )

Beach Sheriff: Freeze!

Chase: Officer, we'd like to report a crime. Someone stole our R.V. from this spot, and it's super critical that we get--

Beach Sheriff: Cool your jets, spanky. I had it towed.

Adam: What? Why?

Beach Sheriff: Your car alarm's been goin' off for, like, an hour, dude. Plus, I thought it'd be funny to watch a little tow truck pull that huge thing away. It was.

Chase: Car alarm?

Beach Sheriff: If you want your R.V. back, you're gonna have to cough up 200 clams.

Adam: Okay. But does it have to be clams? 'Cause, personally, I'm more of a shrimp guy.

( siren squawks )

Chase: You guys... that "car alarm" was the alert tone telling us to launch the rocket!

Leo: Wait. So that means we have under an hour to collect $200, get the mobile lab back, stop the solar flare, and wrestle a shark. Oh, what? You're bionic, and we're at the beach. I'd like to do one fun thing today.

Bree: We need to tell Mr. Davenport. He'll give us the money to get the R.V. back.

Chase: No. No way. We can still fix this. Come on, I know how we can get the money fast.

Bree: Chase, get back here. No one's gonna pay to see you wrestle a shark.

. . .

Tasha: Wow, Donald, I'm impressed. You have almost made it to lunch without using any of your gadgety gizmos.

Donald: Yeah, who needs 'em? I am super relaxed.

( giggles )

Tasha: Hey, have you seen the kids?

Donald: Uh, you know, they're probably in the arcade. You know what? I'm gonna go check on 'em. Bye! Come on, work for daddy.

( clank )

Donald: Ooph! Excuse me, miss. Billionaire genius, potential world crisis. Do you mind? Thank you. Hey! Ow! Do you mind? I am on the phone!

. . .

Leo: Ladies and gentlemen, step right up and see the wonders of Leo's legendary boardwalk freak show!

Chase: Side show.

Leo: Whatever. First, direct your attention and your dollars to Adam, the incredibly but not suspiciously strong man!

Adam: Hey, little girl. You like bunnies? Me too. Check this out.

( clank )

Crowd: Ohh!

Leo: Whoa!

Adam: Here you go.

( clank )

Leo: Oh-ho!

( applause )

Leo: Wow. Wasn't that amazing, folks? Now, keep your eyes and your wallets open for Bree, the magnificent mistress of magic.

Bree: Okay, do I have a volunteer? Nope? Okay, looks like it's you, big guy. Okay, people, keep your eye on the shell. Where is it? Nope. And look what's over here. Bam! Your driver's license.

( applause )

Bree: You know, I never would have guessed you were bald under there.

Leo: Her flying fingers are quicker than the human eye, but it's actually a simple trick that's not that impressive once you know how it's done. And last but not least, let's keep it going for the amazing Chase, who will... what can you do that won't bore people?

Chase: I got this. Now, if someone could kindly give me a prime number with at least four digits, I will mathematically extrapolate--

Leo: Great job! Let's give him a hand! Yeah! Adam, go make another bunny. Make a bunny.

( siren squawking )

Beach Sheriff: Great show, little man.

Chase: Thank you.

Beach Sheriff: I was talkin' to him, dude.

Chase: Oh.

Beach Sheriff: You totally bombed, bro. Now, unless you dudes want to shoot the curl on a longboard of hurt, you'd best show me your performance permits, like, right now.

Adam: We don't have permits. We're busted.

Chase: Oh, relax. He's wearing flip-flops, and his squad car has handlebars. He's not even a real cop.

. . .

Chase: Yet he has a real jail. Okay, there's only one thing left for us to do-- We have to find a way to get in touch with Mr. Davenport fast.

Adam: Uh, I'll just call him. Davenport!

( laughing )

Adam: I can't believe that worked!

Donald: I did not steal anything. That woman committed assault with a deadly floatie! Aah!

Leo: Long story short, Big D-- Botched mission, world is doomed, solar flare's a-comin. Oopsie!

Donald: You know, an hour ago, I was a little freaked out because I didn't know what was happening, but now I think I prefer the mystery! What are we gonna do?

Adam: I can use my strength to break us out.

Donald: Good one. Okay, we have to figure out a way to distract captain cocoa butter over there.

Bree: If only we had a burrito or, like, a monster wave, dude.

Donald: Luckily, there is a genius inventor in the house. Everybody empty your pockets. Come on.

Leo: Uh, stick of gum.

Adam: Two dimes.

Bree: Nine-volt battery.

Chase: Bobby pin.

Donald: Bobby pin?

Chase: What? Bree had a 9-volt battery, but no one said anything about that!

Donald: All I have to do is take these items and fashion a makeshift phone out of them. What am I talking about? This is a bunch of pocket junk. I can't do anything with this.

( surfer music ringtone plays )

Donald: It works!

( ringtone plays )

Beach Sheriff: Hello? What? What do you mean someone's towing my scooter, dude?

Donald: Now's our chance. Adam, be discreet. Just turn the lock pin every so slightly--

( clang )

Adam: Oops.

Donald: Or that'll work too. Let's go!

. . .

Adam: Oh, no! Everything got all messed up when the mobile lab got towed!

Chase: This is bad. This is really bad.

Donald: Yeah, it is. Two hundred dollars to get my R.V. back, two hundred dollars for disorderly conduct, and a hundred dollars for stealing a cell phone. What were you thinking?

Leo: That was you!

Donald: There is a solar flare headed towards us right now!

Adam: Ahh, I'm freakin' out!

Donald: Look, don't panic. In simulations, you guys have launched this rocket in two minutes, and you've still got...

R.V.: Launch window closes in 60 seconds.

Donald: ...half that. Okay, we're gonna have to work together. Adam, pick up that rocket. Leo, find the launch keys. Bree, console. And, Chase, you're gonna have to help me figure out the launch vectors. The vectors are corrupt in every system. The computer isn't fast enough to recalculate them.

Chase: Bree, how many words can you type in a minute?

Bree: All of 'em.

Chase: Right. I knew that. Okay, type this in.

R.V.: Thirty seconds.

Chase: Launch to 60,000 feet... Then change altitude to generate negative Q alpha within 4% of predicted trajectory, and then fire rocket thrusters to initiate...

( indistinct remark )

Chase & Bree: Done.

Adam & Donald: Done.

R.V.: Launch window closes in ten... nine...

Donald: Leo, the launch key.

Leo: I-I found 'em, I found 'em.

Donald: They have to be turned at the same time.

Leo: Where's the other keyhole?

Donald: Over there.

R.V.: ...four... three... two...

Leo: Aaahhh!

R.V.: ...one.

Donald: Everything looks good. It's on target.

Adam: Did it work?

R.V.: Solar flare neutralized.

Donald: It worked! We did it!

Bree: Okay, now that that's finally taken care of, can we please go have fun at the beach?

Donald: Absolutely.

Bree & Chase: Yes!

( Klaxon blares )

Donald: Oh, no!

Leo: What now?!

Donald: Nothing. I'm just messing with you. It's my car alarm.

Chase: Really?

. . .

Tasha: Oh, hey, guys. Oh, I must have dozed off. Did you all have fun today?

Chase: Sure did.

Leo: Yeah, tons of fun.

Adam: We weren't in jail, that's for sure.

Tasha: Great. Well, I have had my fill of fun for the day, so... let's go home.

Bree: Wha-- Go home? But we didn't get to do anything fun yet.

Tasha: Wait. If you guys haven't had fun all day, then what have you been doing?

Donald: Home it is, then.

( overlapping chatter )

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