_
If I'm reading this correctly, and I am, a lot of
chatter suggests there's going to be an attack on the president of the Navy's life.
He's giving the commencement address at the
University of Southern San Diego graduation in a few days.
He'll be a sitting goose.
We could really use Trent and Alphonse right now.
Aloha.
Trent, thank God.
Don't thank God.
Thank Paka'a, the Hawaiian spirit of the wind, whose gentle
breezes I flew here to San Diego upon.
Trent's been on assignment training killer
dolphin agents in Maui.
And I am also back and normal.
Were you in Hawaii, too?
Alphonse was on a well-earned vacation in the caves of the Yemen.
The people of Yemen are beautiful, hospitable, and
kind, and there was no reprogramming whatsoever.
Trent, we need to secure the USSD stadium for their graduation ceremony.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
No can do, Lady Kove.
The waves are gnarls barkley, and I got a killer date with this board and a brew.
But the terrorist threat!
Got one word for terrorists... Mahalo.
Diego!
♪ Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh ♪
♪ oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh ♪
Sync and corrections by n17t01 www.addic7ed.com
I don't think I've ever seen him wear shorts before.
♪ and the coconut said to the palm tree ♪
It's like he's a completely different person, a
potentially dangerous different person.
There's no question about it.
Trent has been reprogrammed to assassinate the President of the Navy.
Then we should lock him up.
Wrong again, Sam.
By not locking him up, we'll learn more about how he plans to kill the president.
Or we'll stop him from doing it because he'll be locked up.
Well, at least we can trust Alphonse.
Hey, guys. Listen up.
"As you prepare to cross the fucking threshold between the
safety of motherfucking academia and the challenges of what we
- call real fucking life"-- - Whoa, whoa, whoa. Language.
I am practicing for my big commencement speech.
Let me see that.
What-- There's none of that profanity in here at all.
That's just the way I talk.
Just killed the "Def Comedy Jam" last night!
I mean, they fucking were like, "what the fuck?"
All right. All right.
Your filthy mouth is the least of your worries.
We believe that Trent Hauser has been programmed to carry out an
assassination attempt on you when you make that speech.
Well, shouldn't we just lock him up?
- That's what I said. - No.
We'll learn more by letting him get within inches of actually killing you.
Ah. Great idea. What's the protection plan for me, though?
I think I have the answer to that.
Did someone call 911?
A robot guard?!
This is awesome!
Eddie was shot multiple times by an NTSF agent.
He totally survived, but he suffered two broken ribs and a bruised jaw.
Fortunately, the NTSF employment contract allows us to take
special measures to keep one a useful member of the force.
And thus I introduce you to Eddroid.
Did someone call 911?
He's the perfect agent.
No feelings and no attachments.
Didn't he have a family?
Oh, yes.
But don't worry.
I told them he was dead.
See? No feelings.
Sweetheart, I miss you so much.
Eddroid, show them your stuff.
Aah! Aah!
This hurts so bad!
It's so painful!
It's amazing!
He sounds so human!
I'm fully aware!
I feel everything!
I'm sure you do.
Aah!
He's doing the running man!
Really good. This is good.
Help me! Help me!
- Did they cut off his clackers? - Aah!
He's screaming like it actually hurt.
- Aah! - Very, very lifelike.
Aah!
_
Whoo!
Let's get hot and wet!
Can I help you?
I doubt it.
I'm here for the hot-wing eating/wet t-shirt contest.
Yes, I'm sorry to say there is no hot-wing eating/wet t-shirt contest.
You see, your commander Kove enlisted me to help you conquer
your uncontrollable profanity.
And we figured that this was the only way to get you here.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
- No titties? - No titties.
- No wings? - No wings.
- No titties?! - No titties again.
My name is Hobson Chipps. And I'm British.
I don't have a fucking cursing problem.
Let's read this, shall we?
"Hello, class of 2013.
I'm so fucking honored to be with you today for your fucking
commencement from the finest university in the motherfucking world."
Fuck me!
I do have a problem.
Item detected-- Sam.
Sam, Daisy's conducting experiments on me.
That's a good thing you don't have feelings.
That would suck.
Trent.
They've taken my soul.
Whoa, that's a bummer, dude.
Peace.
Music again.
He's been playing it nonstop.
It's so relaxing. I feel it mellowing me out.
Excuse me.
I need security clearance for a long-range, high-powered covert weaponry.
I will use it to aim at people who are not the President of the Navy.
Daisy, help Alphonse with whatever it is he's doing.
Those bastards.
What did they do to him?
Sometimes it's easier to let
go the cursing when someone else is doing the talking.
Here. Put this on and then read this.
Okay.
"Today marks the new motherfucking
chapter in the fucking lives--
Whoa, hold on there, little guy!
That's a little rude, don't you think?
I'll tell you what's rude.
You sticking your hand up my asshole.
Now, where was I?
You kids have a future that's
wide open, much like this guy's sister's hole.
Hey, fuck you!
You don't talk shit about my sister! She's a saint!
- I'll stomp your dick in the dirt, you asshole. - Yeah.
You suck your own dick.
I've never sucked my own dick.
Never! Fucking asshole.
Item detected-- chair.
I know what a chair is!
Fatigue level-- maximum.
How do I turn off these graphics?
- Item detected-- - Having trouble, Eddroid?
- Daisy. - Yes.
I just want to shut down.
Oh, you can't ever shut down, but you can go into rest mode.
Yes. That's what I want.
I just want to rest for a while.
Whenever you're not working, you'll be kept in here.
You don't actually sleep.
You just stand here until we need you for something.
Aah!
This is terrifying for me!
You know what you're doing, and you enjoy it!
_
We need to keep our eyes out for Trent or anyone who looks like Trent.
I'm on it.
I don't know if I can do this, Hobson.
Well, not to worry. I get paid either way.
Excuse me, dudes.
Who-o-o-a. Look at this.
Aloha, Sam.
I spotted Trent.
I'll keep him busy.
Aloha!
Alo-ha.
A-lo-ha.
Alo-hoo, yeah.
Just got totally wiped out on my aloha, bro.
This is so easy.
Hey, what's going on, bros?
No, this isn't gnarly.
What's going on?
Are we going to a luau or something?
What the--
Alphonse?
I didn't know you were a college student.
Yes.
I'm Alphonse, and today I graduate from USSD.
Oh.
Okay, that sounds reasonable.
Let me escort you to a spot where you'll have a clear, unobstructed sight line.
Good. This is not a blow dart.
And now please welcome the President of the Navy.
Go fuck yourself. Nah!
Listen, I am so fucking proud...
of all your accomplishment bullshit.
Whoa. Not cool, brah.
Guess who I just ran into?
Alphonse.
Wait. Did you just say Alphonse?
It's Alphonse. He's the sleeper agent. It's not Trent.
I knew I didn't do it.
Eddroid, activate.
...working hard, studying hard-- that's what you've done.
That and jerk off and fuck a monkey.
No, you didn't.
No-- nobody does that.
I misread.
Look, I went to school, too.
We all graduate.
You got to, otherwise you become, like, a pedophile.
Item detected-- chair.
Yeah, I know what a chair is!
I guess now you got to get jobs sucking dick!
You know what I'm talking about, fucking nose?
What? Look at that nose.
It's a big old dick in his face.
Why can't I stop saying dick.
Aah!
Did someone call 911?
I'm just saying we're in a recession.
Uh... fuck.
Trent, I'm so sorry that we thought it was you.
Major mahalos, brah.
Mahalo means many things, but never "I'm sorry."
♪ There was a coconut named Steve who went to Hawaii ♪
♪ he found his love, which was a conch shell ♪
Hey.
You hear that?
Oh, so relaxing, huh?
Hey, listen, guys, as you prepare to cross the threshold
from the safety of academia to face what we call real life...
Holy fuck. He's doing it!
...I want to give you one piece of advice.
The dancing is distracting your mind!
Keep-- keep dancing!
Just be the best you that you can be.
I mean, no one's gonna be a better you than you. Am I right?
Mahalo!
If you could make that out to, um, cash.
Fuck yeah!
Whoo! I did it!
And I said fuck on purpose. I knew what I was saying.
Yeah! Yeah!
Our therapists just need a few more days with
Alphonse, and they say they'll
have him nurtured back to normal.
How are you doing, Trent?
Proud to announce that
my tensions and anxieties are back at a full-time high.
Hey! Get that piece of crap out of here and sell it for firewood.
Ah.
There's our cyborg.
Did someone call 911?
You've performed admirably, Eddroid.
You've earned a comfortable retirement.
We'll be reprogramming you to be a sex robot for the
brave men and women serving in the Navy.
What? No!
Fortunately you don't have feelings.
Which will make you a glorious prostitute.
No!
Must escape!
Please... just kill me.
Kill me.
Sync and corrections by n17t01 www.addic7ed.com