_
Surprise!
Happy birthday!
Come on, open your present!
Oh, all right!
All right.
Hey!
You got the one I wanted!
Come on, try it out.
Yeah, yeah, watch out.
Works!
Ha ha!
It doesn't end there.
We got ice-cream cake, and it's sitting in the break room.
Ice-cream cake?
Rum raisin-- your favorite.
I'll be right there, as soon as I set the autoguard on the
system here, guys.
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ for he's a jolly good fellow ♪
I love you guys!
Oh, 41's gonna be my best year yet.
Tune in, turn on... knocked out.
Diego!
♪ Oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh ♪
♪ oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh ♪
Sync and corrections by n17t01 www.addic7ed.com
Gabby Hoffstein-- the most extreme leftist militant of the hippie generation.
He was captured by NTSF in 1969
and sentenced to 37 consecutive life terms.
And now he is loose in our time.
The '60s-- the worst period in America's history.
A mad man like Hoffstein on the loose threatens
to undo all the good work Nixon did.
We'll get this commie and send him back to Russia.
Not so fast.
For a case with this historical magnitude, we need someone who
knows Hoffstein inside and out.
So I put in a phone call to Booth Whitman.
Legendary NTSF agent.
More like legendary misogynist.
He fought for years against women being in NTSF.
Sadly, he lost that fight.
Whitman put Hoffstein away, and we'll need his invaluable
experience to bring this no-good do-gooder to justice.
I was sitting in my retirement home, playing
cribbage and pinching nurses'
bottoms when I hear that Hoffstein is on the lam.
I should have curb-stopped that granola freak when I had the chance.
Booth Whitman-- Trent Hauser.
Pleasure to meet you.
When did they start letting NTSF agents grow out hippie
manes like Country Joe?
Have your secretary here fix me a whiskey sour.
I'm not his secretary. I'm an NTSF agent.
Well, well, who's this hot drink of sass?
- My name is Piper Ferguson - Enough!
Trent, Piper, accommodate Whitman and his needs.
Hey, hey!
What it is, soul brother!
Aah! What the hell, dude?
Did you just put your hand in my face?
Listen, I need your help.
Where do the hippies hang out?
Hippies? You mean like Shaggy from "Scooby Doo" or...?
No, I know.
Hey, why should you trust me, right?
I want to work with you to make sure that you can drink from
that fountain right there. You dig?
Why would I want to drink from that water fountain?
That's where homeless people go to urinate.
I really got to get back to working on this blog about my
artisanal wallpaper and studying music lyrics.
Artisanal?
I feel like I ate the brown acid, man.
Welcome to the Bohemian District, where skinny
jeans, ironic t-shirts, and chunky frames reign supreme.
Computer tracks his heat signature to this area.
We'll take it on the arches.
Hate walking.
No GPS.
You, Piper-- take the lead.
I want to get a good look at this caboose.
What a pig.
Excellent.
Subversives.
Time to crack some skulls.
Okay, buddy boy, NTSF may have been the Wild West back
in your day, but it's 2013, and around here, we follow protocol
when it comes to questioning civilians.
Tell me what I need to know!
Why are you pointing something in my face?!
Angel, let the men do the dirty work.
I want you to take those beautiful ice-blue eyes and find
me the nearest crapper.
I got a load on board that would choke a gorilla.
"Beautiful eyes."
Aah!
Now, does that jog your reefer-addled memory, wavy gravy?!
There was a guy who was here a few minutes earlier!
Yes! He's Hoffstein.
I know it. I can feel it.
Let's hit the bricks.
Oh-ho-ho!
Ah, "Revolution In The Streets."
Yeah.
"San Diego Times #1 eBook."
I don't even know what an eBook is.
Oh!
Oh-ho-ho! My man!
The green revolution is here, baby!
Hey, I got to get off these concrete streets.
Can I hide in your store for a spell?
Uh, well, I should probably check with my manager.
Yeah, cool, man, cool!
Where is he? Where's he at?
I think he's at the corporate offices in La Jolla.
No! Capitalism's invisible hands has already got to the co-ops?!
You don't deserve those oranges, man.
Oh! Krishna.
Hello, Officer.
Weed, please.
Oh. Legal weed.
Even grass sold out.
What the hell happened to America, man?
Give us Hoffstein or good luck dodging my fist.
You're crazy, man.
I don't know no Hoffstein.
Don't give me no double negatives!
Whitman, he doesn't know anything!
Organic groceries, ladies wearing pants.
No wonder we haven't won a war since Korea.
The world has passed me by.
Whitman, come back!
Hey, man, how much for a newspaper?
Yeah, no, man, this isn't a real bookstore.
No, this is a sculpture, exposing the artificiality of
the concept of objectivity in the public sphere.
- No! - Aah!
Oh, what happened to my world?!
I got to leave, man.
I got to get!
Oh, I got to go somewhere safe, like Yugoslavia or
Czechoslovakia or East Germany.
Is that like Narnia?
Are you trying to say Narnia?
No, no, I'm not saying that.
Oh, my God.
What kind of a world is it where a beautiful Marxist utopia like
Yugoslavia doesn't exist?!
No world I want to live in.
Get out of my way.
Get out of my way!
Whitman, what are you doing?
Gabby's getting away.
The only thing I'm good for anymore.
I'm a dinosaur.
You are a dinosaur.
But you know something, Whitman?
The world needs dinosaurs.
Without them, we wouldn't have fossil fuels or hilarious
exhibits in creationist museums.
And in this day and age of metrosexual wimps...
the tough, hard-drinking, racist, misogynistic,
heavy-smoking, angered junkie takes us back to a better time.
Point is, Whitman, you cannot give up now.
The people of San Diego need you.
And I need you, too.
God, I wish I knew you 50 years ago.
I'd have made you my mistress.
Thank you for saying that.
Not even one shave and it's already broken.
Stupid piece of junk.
7600? I wanted the 8600.
For every season... turn... turn, turn.
So, what was Hoffstein charged with anyway?
Encouraging women and African-Americans to vote.
Put it in my ear.
What?
Hostage at the cryo-jail.
Lead the way, Whitman.
Actually, I'll lead the way.
Hoffstein.
Well, well, well, Whitman.
Let's get something straight, white pig-- I don't believe in violent conflict!
Well, too bad for you.
Good guy never takes the first shot. Go ahead.
I'm a conscientious objector, man.
Oh, don't start this hippie bullshit.
That's what I am, man! I'm a hippie!
I'm a big stinky hippie, all right?
Relax. Mellow. Find your inner mellow, Whitman!
No, no, no, no!
- Aah! - Aah!
That's it, that's it.
I'm done.
We don't belong in this world, Whitman.
You and me... we should be frozen, man.
You know what, Hoffstein? You're right.
We both should be on ice.
Booth, no, no.
Listen, Piper, you don't mean a damn to me.
You're just another skirt to be used and tossed aside.
It's what's right.
We will always have '68, man.
Wake me when men are back in vogue and "No Smoking" signs are
ironic jokes that hang in kitschy chain restaurants.
I'll see you on the other side, brother.
Looks like you knocked him out... cold.
Aw, Trent, you're trying way too hard.
All right, we've got some cheap liquor.
Let's go look for some cheap women.
Cheers to that.
Mrs. Piper Whitman.
I like the sound of that.
Sync and corrections by n17t01 www.addic7ed.com