[âª]
Hey, doc.
I hate to be a pain in the prunes,
but can I ask you a gargantuesque favour?
Maybe.
Unless this is about Anna and me adopting you.
We've been over that.
No.
If you want the stork to play Russian roulette with your DNA,
go right ahead.
No, I was wondering if I could store something in your office.
Oh, yeah. Sure. Put it wherever you like.
Thanks, doc! You're a pep-o-mint lifesaver.
Can I ask you another favour?
- Sure. - Can you whistle?
[Whistles like a songbird]
No, no, no.
More like a "hey, taxi!"
Oh, you mean like... [Whistles loudly]
That should do it.
[Multiple footsteps shuffling closer]
Whoa, wait. What-- whoa!
He said put it anywhere you like.
Thank you.
Sync by Alice | www.addic7ed.com
You can't leave all these here.
Why not?
It's an efficient use of space.
How is this efficient? I can't move!
You sit at your desk.
It's not as if you teach square dancing in here.
I would like the option.
Where did all this come from?
Hey, how much for the hat?
50 cents.
I see.
How much for everything?
All these boxes are going back to your condo.
Real nice, doc.
"Put your stuff here.
"Take your stuff away.
"Do the hokey pokey.
"Simon says do this."
What time is it, Mr. wolf?
"Hey, diddle diddle--"
Quit stalling.
Fine. I'll take away the boxes.
You're not shifting your weight.
- Pardon? - Your swing.
You need to shift your weight and choke up a bit.
Anna, I think I know a little bit more about golfing than you.
[Smack] Oh!
Oh. Sorry.
Playing through.
You really shouldn't talk to people when they're teeing off.
[Joyce]: Is my lunch here yet?
No. I don't know why you order from that place.
It's always late.
I know, but it's also cold, so it evens out.
Joyce!
Just the woman I was--
No.
You don't even know what I was going to--
The celebrity golf tournament?
You want an invite? You can't have one.
Hey, Ms. Haddison.
Sorry I'm late.
But Mike Weir is going to be there.
His golf tip taught me how to stack and tilt.
Watch.
Choke up!
[Smack] Aah!
Would you-- Anna!
Joyce, please.
Forget it.
Not gonna happen.
Did you remember the dressing this time?
Oh, man.
I'm real sorry, Ms. Haddison.
Yeah...
Well...
That's for you.
Thanks.
I don't get it.
She won't give me a lousy invitation,
but she tips this chump 50% for a cold sandwich?
I know.
He played her perfect.
He did?
What did he do?
You've got to curb these garage sale impulses.
You're about one shoebox full of buttons
away from being a hoarder.
What are you talking about?
Do you know often I've always wished
that I had a...
Three-string ukulele?
[Gasps] 1976 entomologist's almanac.
Wow, you're right.
This stuff is junk.
Let's go get a bubble tea.
Whoa, wait. You gotta do something with all this.
What? I'll just live around it.
Won't be a problem.
[Knocking on door]
Oh, Stan.
Help me. I'm trapped!
[Millie]: Lewis.
I suppose you're here
because of the small fire in the common room.
What?
I noticed a heap of odorous boxes
in the hallway
and immediately thought of you.
It's nothing to worry about.
We're taking care of it.
You'd better step off, Lewis,
before I give you a little "how's your sister"
with the business end of a...
A chewed-up banana seat.
Haul it away,
throw it away,
or stow it in your storage locker.
Just get it out of the hallway asap!
Hey, Lewis, you know who's a sap?
You are?
Oh, he boomeranged it on me.
Get out, you... filthy dirty little son of a--
That guy needs a swift lift.
Wait a second.
Storage locker?
Yeah. You didn't you know you had a storage locker?
No.
Well, every condo has a storage--
hey!
A beer hat!
Anna... you know something.
Spill it.
The delivery guy was just touching for tips.
I don't think so...
Unless I misheard what you said.
"Touching for tips."
I did mishear you. I thought you--
I'm about to reveal to you
the restaurant industry's deepest, darkest secret.
If anyone finds out that I told you--
Never mind. I just googled it.
So you secretly touch somebody
and they give you a bigger tip? Really?
It's true.
When I was a server at Boscado's,
I served a man whose steak was burnt,
his wine was corked,
and his creme was barely brulee'd.
$50 tip.
Yeah, but I'm constantly tipping crappy waitresses,
and they're not secretly touching me.
I'd know.
I was not a crappy waitress.
Sure you weren't, toots.
Taylor!
What do you think you're doing?
Oh, I'm just
going to charm a certain publisher
into giving a certain someone a certain set of--
you're in my parking spot.
Move it.
And by the way, Joyce is allergic to lilies.
Dammit!
Actually, Sheila, I got these for you.
Thank you, Taylor.
Now, get the hell out of my spot.
Okay. All right. I'm sorry.
I was just going to be a couple minutes,
but... I'll move.
Oh, never mind.
I'll park over there.
Really?
But next time...
Absolutely.
Thank you, Sheila.
[âª]
Wow!
Is it just me,
or does everything kind of smell
like old BBQs and baby oil?
This is my very own storage locker?
Pretty swank!
Yeah, as far as two-by-fours wrapped in chicken wire go,
this looks pretty good.
And it's so roomy!
I'm sure your many boxes
will be very comfortable down here.
This is like the Bat cave
or the Fortress of Solitude...
Or Peter Parker's Aunt May's basement.
There is a certain
safe house charm to it,
but it's not a superhero refuge.
This is a storage locker.
Oh, no, I'm just saying
that if someone wanted
to turn it into a little den of adventure,
they could do a lot worse.
Millie. Look at me. Millie.
Look at me, in the eye.
Promise me you're not going to turn this
into a den of adventure.
I promise.
Or a bunker of mystery
or a fortress of secrets.
Okay. Okay.
Welcome to my clubhouse of wonder!
Aw, I almost said "clubhouse of wonder."
I don't understand what the problem is.
Haven't you ever wanted your own clubhouse?
But this isn't a clubhouse.
A clubhouse is something that a kid builds with friends
out of an old fridge box
that his mom shuts down
after she finds his collection of lingerie pages
from the Sears Wish Book.
Plus, this is dark and dusty.
So is your office,
but we hang out there all the time.
Well, could you at least let me in?
Sure...
If you know the secret knock.
I don't.
'Cause it's a secret.
[Five rhythmic knocks...]
Sorry, doc, but--
[two more knocks]
Dammit.
I'm going to have to upgrade clubhouse security.
Anna, you were right.
This whole "touching for tips" thing,
it's great!
What do you mean?
Check this out.
Somebody's last piece of gum.
What have you been doing?
Oh, nothing much.
Just getting some primo parking and...
Oh, you know Michelle from the second floor?
Well, she gave me Tanya from the fifth floor's
phone number.
Touching for tips should only be used
by waiters, valets, and the occasional delivery man!
Well, lock your socks, sister,
because I'm about to get comfortably familiar
with my new putt buddy, Mike Weir.
You're using a powerful tool for evil!
And lovin' every minute of it.
Come on, doc.
I can't have a club with just one member.
Give me one good reason
why you won't join the subterranean bohemians?
Because it's not--
The who?
Well, that's just one of several club names up for discussion.
The others include the super moles,
the subworlders,
and the underground hepcats.
Well, what if there's an emergency?
There's no cell reception down here.
What if somebody needs to get in touch with you?
I never really thought of--
boom! Walkie-talkies.
You take one.
Whoo!
I'll take the other.
This doesn't...
You can't... it's not...
Smokeys!
Breaker to Stan.
Spit it out.
Okay, how about this?
What if you have to go to the bathroom?
Double boom!
That's a bucket.
That is the clubhouse commode.
Let me know when you're done.
[Male voice]: Breaker, breaker,
this is Greasy Wheels.
Anybody out there?
Over.
Hey, Greasy Wheels, this is Downstairs Dora.
Hey, do you want to join my club?
Oh, you bet, little darlin'.
What's your 20?
Don't give anyone your 20!
Now, let's go back upstairs and move those boxes
before Lewis freaks out.
No! That's the problem.
Upstairs, I'm a slave to Lewis and his rules.
Down here, I'm a queen!
Well, I can't stay down here anymore.
The smell of paint thinner is making me woozy.
That's the smell of freedom.
Breathe it in.
[Breathes deeply, coughs]
That's not the smell of freedom...
I don't know what that is.
Joyce.
Taylor, do you know why Millie's voicemail
would be directing me to a ham radio frequency?
No. I can look into it, though.
Oh, let Stan deal with it.
What do you want?
It's about this celebrity golf tournament.
I told you--
I understand.
You don't want to give me a ticket.
I was just thinking that if you ever--
[Phone rings] Oh, hold that thought.
Hello?
It's Anna.
Don't let Taylor know
you're talking to me.
Oh, hello, Uncle Eldridge.
Mm-hmm.
Really?
Do you mind? Private call.
I was just hoping to--
We'll pick this up later.
Uh, yes, I will be able
to come to the pumpkin festival
this October.
Mm-hmm.
Anyway, I'll talk to you later,
Auntie... Eldridge.
It sounds like fun!
What's wrong with having a clubhouse?
Well, nothing, if you're in grade school
or you play major league baseball.
Millie does neither of those things.
But she's not hurting anyone,
and she's done weirder things than that.
Well, that's true.
You want an omelette?
No, I'm good.
Couldn't get any fresher.
But you convinced her to get rid of the chickens.
Well, not really.
One of them attacked her and pecked her up pretty good,
so I can't really take credit for that.
But I did talk her out of getting the cow.
You see?
You can't talk Millie out of cows
if you're not there with her.
You know what, you're right.
You can't fight a riptide.
You have to swim along with it
and then coax it to shore.
How did we get from cows to swimming?
I'm going to join the club
and bring it down from the inside out.
Your analogies are kind of clunky,
but whatever.
Good night, honey.
Good night, Millie.
G'night, doc.
G'night, Anna.
Good night, Millie.
[Millie]: Good night, John-boy.
Good night giant spider walking up the wall.
Don't do this, Taylor.
I know you want that golf thing, but touching Joyce is wrong.
Anna, have you ever heard of a guy named Midas?
Because things worked out pretty well for him, didn't they?
No.
He turned his children into lumps of gold.
Yeah, do you know what gold is worth right now?
Don't do this, Taylor.
Oh, you'd like me not do this, wouldn't you?
Yes. That's why I said it.
Yeah, well, I'm not not going to do this
for you or anyone.
Hope I'm not interrupting.
You are,
but that's never stopped you before.
That's true.
Listen, regarding what we were talking about yesterday...
Oh, that.
I've been doingsome thinking as well,
and I think you..
Yes?
Should take this to the dry cleaner's for me.
What?
Hey, Joyce...
We are ready for you in the boardroom.
Dry cleaning?
No-- But I---
It would be really nice if you can do that for me.
Okay.
But we need to talk later.
How did you get in?
I used the "in case of emergency" key
you gave me.
Is there an emergency?
Is Anna okay?
No. Anna's fine.
There's no emergency.
Well, then, how did the emergency key work?
Uhm...
I dreamed you were in danger,
and then I came right over
thinking there might be an emergency.
[Gasps] That is wild!
I had a dream that I was in danger too!
Did yours have angry badgers in it?
Yes.
Look, I've changed my mind.
I want to be in your club now.
Hot pockets!
I knew you'd come around.
Yep, so let me in.
Well, the thing is,
it's not just up to me anymore...
Meet the rest of the cellar dwellers.
Ah.
I guess my hepcats t-shirt is useless now.
So, Millie, why don't you introduce me
to these fine total strangers?
Sure.
Mr. apron over there
is Steve.
[Whispers] Doesn't speak much English.
He was putting away his electric grill
and I said, "not so fast, cowpoke!"
And this is Tristan.
We call him "T".
Found him around the corner
sneaking a cigarette.
Hey, T.
So, have a seat, and I'll just go
get the membership forms for you to fill out.
Terrific.
So... Steve, is it?
I bet
you'd rather be grilling those bad boys
in the great outdoors, huh?
Sunshine?
Fresh air?
English?
Okay.
[Clears throat]
A clubhouse in a storage locker--
pretty lame. Am I right?
Well, as it turns out,
Steve used the membership forms to wrap up some fish heads.
But I found a millipede!
Oh, you don't expect me to--
Oh, gross!
No!
Just eat it,
and then it's all comic books and snacks.
This c-bag
was bad-mouthing the cellar dwellers!
What? Stan?
No, I love the cellar dwellers.
You want fresh air?
He bad man!
Is that true?
Are you Batman?
No, Millie, come on.
I just want to be part of the club.
Then prove it. Eat the bug!
W-whoa. Hold on--
Ah, I can't kill an insect just over some initiation.
Let it crawl up your nose.
Up one nostril and out the other.
What-- no-- I--
look, I can't fake this anymore!
I still think this club is a bad idea.
Look at you, down here in the dark,
with strangers and fish heads
and doing weird things with bugs.
This is no way to live.
Well, if that's how you feel, then you're out of the club.
Please forget the secret knock.
So what's next, guys?
Ugh...
When will this be ready?
Uh, four days.
That seems like a long time.
- I'm sure that we could do-- - It's not really that--
[sighs angrily] Joyce...
Don't tell Steve,
but that spiced lamb Patty
is playing twister with my large intestine.
Hey, Steve!
Millie says your lamb patties suck!
Who say sucka my Patty?
Wha-- no, I mean,
why don't we just-- all just relax?
You know, enjoy some magazines
that I got at the garage sale.
Everybody just sit down and we can all enjoy...
Disturbing pornography from the '70s.
I think we should smoke cigarettes.
No, that's against clubhouse rules.
Let's take a vote.
A vote?
All those in favour of smoking in the clubhouse
raise your hand.
Well, that's not fair,
because he doesn't even know what he's voting for.
Tobaccky smokie.
Well, that could mean anything.
What did you tell Joyce?
Nothing...
Except for your plans
to abuse the secret power of touching.
Me abuse?
She's the one who made me take in her dry cleaning!
She wouldn't.
She did.
Something wrong?
Don't you touch me. I know what you're up to.
I was only touching you
because I knew you were trying to touch me.
Taylor, I'm--
Ah-ah, don't you touch me either!
I'm on to you.
Oh, I'm on to both of you.
The next thing I know,
T-bag is sparking a dart,
Steve's grilling chicken feet,
and I'm in the middle of a coup.
I'm sorry, Millie, I can't help but think this was my fault.
I can't help thinking the same thing.
We should rally the troops,
storm the castle, usurp the infidels!
You mean kick out Tristan and Steve?
I like it better the way I said it.
As staff liaison officer, I have to tell you
several employees have expressed concern
about the sexually charged atmosphere in the office.
What? That's ridiculous.
Who would--
I feel violated, Joyce!
He doesn't even work here.
Nevertheless, all complaints are taken very seriously.
You know,
one little invitation
and I can make all this go away.
Not a chance.
Are you sure?
Don't you want to see your dry cleaning again?
Fine.
Yesss!
- Sheila, thank you-- - Don't touch me.
All right, you two, party's over.
Come out of there.
[Tristan]: No!
Do we have a Plan B?
Don't worry.
I got this.
We changed the secret knock.
We need a Plan C.
Okay, you guys. Last chance.
You'd better come out of there.
Make us!
Okay. Well, you made us pull out the big guns.
Tristan Hubert Wilston,
you have five seconds to get your keister home.
And I swear to sweet baby Jesus
if I smell tobacco smoke on your jacket--
Don't you run away from me, young man!
I will slap you into next week!
Whoo, okay!
You are up to bat, Mrs...
Mrs. Steve's wife.
Steve! Now!
Nice work, general.
Looks like you got your clubhouse back.
Oh, that's right, and it's all mine!
[Sighs happily]
Ugh, they didn't empty the commode. Jee--
Hey, Anna.
Stay back.
Look, I just want to apologize--
if I had it my way,
you'd be forced to wear bell mitts.
Bell mitts?
You know, mitts with bells in them?
So your victims would hear you approach?
Oh, well, not to worry.
I am done
with touching my way to happiness.
Did something happen
while you were celebrity golfing?
I didn't actually make it to the tournament.
Excuse me.
Would you mind moving your car?
You're kind of blocking me in.
I'm picking up my boyfriend.
I'll just be a second.
Are you sure you can't move your car?
[Nervous chuckle]
Turns out there is such a thing as bad touching.
Especially with these.
Yeah, so you can store all your boxes
down here now.
No.
I've got other plans for this space.
Please!
For the love of God, somebody help me!
That would not be good.
Fine.
Then I'll use it
to store all the boxes from my condo.
That would be good.
[Millie, reading]: Missy Grumpaloo
was walking in the forest one day
when she discovered an old, abandoned shack.
With some hard work and elbow grease,
Missy transformed the shack into a beautiful castle.
The next day,
two nasty little trolls snuck inside
and forced Missy out
by filling the castle with stinky smoke.
But the trolls didn't know Missy had left the gas on,
and by the time they realized,
she had made a bundle on the insurance.
Sync & corrections by Alice www.addic7ed.com