Troops, today our mission is wall-painting.
- I was painting my wall all night. - That is not a euphemism.
- All night. - Stop!
- You have a disorder. - We're actually painting an actual wall.
Now, I know that might not be glamorous,
but just because we have a boring job doesn't mean we can't have fun doing it.
So, I give you...
The Paint Cart 5000!
So this is the stuff white people get excited about?
Now, this gets me excited!
What do you say we take her on her maiden voyage? Let's ride!
That's terrible, right? We all realize that's terrible?
The Army is filled with troops on heroic missions,
and then there's us.
We take care of things at home.
We are the Rear Detachment.
Yes, we're soldiers.
Sync and corrections by brayanatsix www.addic7ed.com
Enlisted - S01E09 Paint Cart 5000 vs. The Mondo Spider
Sergeant Hill!
Come on, Derrick... Sergeant Hill!
I am not chanting your name.
I'll cover for him.
- Sergeant Hill! - Sergeant Hill.
You make me want to be a better man.
I'm not going to be, but you lit a fire.
Sergeant Hill, you want to hear a rap song I wrote in your honor?
It reinforces racial stereotypes and glorifies criminal behavior.
Why don't we skip that? But I appreciate the gesture.
Tell you what, this round's on me.
Sergeant Hill!
I'd like to tender my resignation from this family.
Pete, just one request. Can I drive the cart?
And, Derrick, before you answer, this is for Pete to decide.
- No. - Derrick?
You know why you're not allowed to drive the gold cart.
Backing up!
Whoa!
Whoops!
Stupid cat. You can't play piano.
Actually, this cat's not bad.
Hey, Dobkiss, check out this cat video.
Sorry, guys!
Whoa!
Sent.
If you cherry-pick the data, you'll find problems.
Those all happened yesterday.
Barkeep, I am looking for a big, noisy IPA
with a hoppy nose
and a nice body in the 7.0 ABV range.
They have beer.
You like beer, Lieutenant?
As a craft brew connoisseur,
I just like to know what I'm getting.
You got this one and then this one light.
I'm laughing to keep this in a collegial space,
but you might want to watch your tone, soldier.
Yes, syrup.
- Did you just say, "Yes, syrup"? - No, syrup.
- I feel like you said "syrup." - No, syrup.
- You said "syrup" again. - No, syrup.
- You just said "syrup" again. - No, sir.
Up.
Picking a fight with an officer, huh? Smart.
I respect officers, just not cherry eggheads like Schneeberger.
I know Lieutenant Schneeberger is an acquired taste,
but he asked me to help him with his new equipment detail.
Oh, God.
We actually have some things in common.
We're insulting you in semaphore. How cool is that?
You want to see cool?
Sergeant Hill!
This is cool.
Yeah, that thing's way cooler than what I'm working on.
No.
Say hello...
to the Mondo Spider.
Hello.
The Mondo Spider is a lithium ion powered robot.
100% electric, designed to provide infantry support.
- So beautiful. - So noble.
Now, this is the type of white people stuff I like.
I really like this.
Corporal Hill, a word.
Yeah, but, Sergeant Major Cody, now? There's a...
I know, Mondo Spider.
Let's go.
Don't let anything cool happen without me.
Derrick, you know I can't promise that.
Now, I know what you're asking.
- What does it eat? - Is it able to love?
Maybe I don't know what you're asking, so let me just tell you what I'm looking for.
A platoon to help test the next generation of military technology.
Fall in.
I like what I see.
But I do have some concerns about leadership. Hmm.
Feels like something sticking in my craw, like, uh, syrup.
Ah. Clarity at last.
I'll just have to keep looking.
Say good-bye, Mondo Spider.
Don't take my baby!
Why?!
Sergeant Hill, what happened?
Oh, he said he had concerns about leadership.
We all heard what he said, Gumble.
I can't believe I just saw a living, breathing robot spider.
Forget about that thing.
What do you say we jump on the Paint Cart 5000 and get on out there.
It hurts every fiber of my being to say this,
but Paint Cart 5000 sucks, Pete!
I hate that cart!
All right. Sergeant Major, am I being punished?
Because I really wanted to see the Mondo Spider.
It's, like, the only cool thing that's ever happened at this post.
Are you forgetting about when we saw
a turtle riding an alligator?
How are those two friends?
They're not, the gator ate the turtle.
Well, that's a disappointing coda.
Moving on, I need an official portrait.
I'd like you to take it.
- Come again? - According to your records,
you took a photography course in college.
I slept through a class about pictures,
but I don't know how to take a professional portrait.
The only other artistically inclined soldier is... Private Gumble.
Sand is nature's paint.
And making it snow.
* Gumble's an artist, Gumble's an artist. *
A shooting star.
I'm looking for something more permanent.
I've already tried a so-called professional.
That charlatan told me I looked good.
I need a photographer who's gonna tell me the truth.
- I don't want to be here. - The job is yours.
Permission to have a frank and lively discussion about a hot-button topic?
Oh, God.
Let's just rip the Band-Aid off, Pete.
You're wrong... oh, my God, I am so sorry...
but it needed to be said.
They put me up to it, but I stand by it.
Who am I to tell you? I'm gonna tell you who I am.
Permission to start this over again.
Sergeant Hill, you're the reason
we didn't get the most amazing detail of all time.
Mondo Spider.
How we've dreamt of this day.
You didn't even know what it was till an hour ago.
Is an hour's dream not a dream?
Schneeberger is bad news. You don't want to work with that guy.
No, you don't want to work with him, Sergeant!
And you probably got some really good reasons we haven't heard yet.
- Why did we make him spokesman? - Because I get results.
If that's okay with Pete.
- Can't you go talk to Schneeberger? - He is a weasel, guys.
He dangles the spider in front of you,
and then yanks it away so I have to go kiss his butt.
- Great. - Sounds like a plan.
- He's a genius. - Enough!
Pete, I'm no longer the brutally honest spokesman
who came in here to tear you a new one.
Now I'm just your little brother, Randy,
a small boy with a big heart
whose first crush was on Rosie the Robot from The Jetsons
and first book was Charlotte's Web from the library,
which I just realized I forgot to return.
Funny story, actually.
- All right, I'll talk to him. - Now that is how you spokesman.
Okay, I'll just pretend like this goes there,
and then I'll just wave this thing around
like I have any idea what the hell that does,
and, uh, I think we're all set.
Because what do I know?
I'm not a photographer. Say cheese.
Cheese!
Great.
Did you capture my essence?
You're smiling, your eyes are open.
You know, I was flipping through some photography books for inspiration.
Oh, my God.
You know, that Annie Leibovitz take one hell of a picture.
Do that for me.
Do what?
Draw out some inner vulnerability that probably isn't there,
and you shouldn't be looking for anyway.
But... if you find it, move over, bacon.
You guys are testing LSD on me, aren't you?
I know you can do this, Corporal Hill.
Are you ready?
'Cause I'm ready.
And I reserved the MOUT facility for 0700 tomorrow.
Squared away as usual, Sergeant Perez.
- Permission to enter, sir. - Oh, come on in, Sergeant Hill.
I got a little gift for you.
A little something for a man who enjoys a craft brew.
Oh.
Hoptopus Eight-Legged Ale.
The Schnee likes.
Whatcha doing, Sergeant Hill?
Shooting a friendly smile to the studliest...
squash manager in the army.
The guys on the team were the real studs,
but without their equipment, hey, maybe a diff story.
Uh, sir, I looked inward, and I addressed that leadership concern that you had,
and I was hoping that you would reconsider using my troops for your detail.
I know there's been some tension between us.
I get it.
We're cut from the same cloth, just two alphas howling at the moon, right?
But we can fix that. You just need to apologize.
- I'm sorry, sir? - You need to apologize.
I just did.
- Seriously. - Yeah, I kind of figured.
Let me just turn on the P.A.
Mm...
Go ahead.
Sorry, Lieutenant Schneeberger.
- Sir. - Sir.
Throw a "bro" on there for me.
Bro.
One more time, all together.
From the top.
I am sorry, Lieutenant Schneeberger, sir, bro.
Now everyone understands their place.
Do it with me.
A little louder?
I got you the detail.
Be cool, guys. Act like you've been there.
I've never been there, but you'd never know it.
I feel like I just made a deal with the devil.
A handsome devil.
He's like a teacup Adonis.
Will you stop finding him attractive?
Stop that immediately.
Pete, I know that was hard, man, but thanks.
You got us into the big time.
New equipment testing.
Mondo Spider, jetpack, light saber, time travel.
Time travel.
The sky's the limit now that we're hanging
- with Lieutenant Schneeberger. - Yup, mmm.
I hate to burst your bubble.
He has no intention of hanging with you.
Come on.
It's a text from Lieutenant Schneeberger.
"I hope you can join me tonight for a feast
at the Seacord Lobster House. No need for RSVPeesies."
The lingo shows me that he's got the real common touch.
Real convenient that I didn't get invited.
I'm not gonna answer that.
You should be plumbing my depths.
Ask me about my father.
Crack the Cody coconut.
I don't know what any of that means.
Oh, for God's sake, son. At least tell me to work it.
Work it.
We wear so many masks.
If we saw our real face in the mirror,
would we even recognize it?
Work it.
I see you snapping pictures.
But I don't see you celebrating the mystery in every moment.
Hey, Derrick!
Just a normal day.
Come on, Corporal Hill!
Let's make Whoopi.
I don't want to.
Enjoy your lobster, soldiers.
Butter shot.
- Take a moment with the bouquet. - I just want to live with you.
Egh.
This whole thing is stupid.
It's all about him showing off how cool he is, when in actual fact, he sucks.
I'd like to propose a toast to Lieutenant Schneeberger.
Oh...
Not much of a public speaker, but, uh,
I am a dope-as-hell rapper.
Ruiz, drop me a beat.
- No. - Don't need it.
* Lieu to the tenant, Schnee to the burger *
* Something, something, something, something *
That was supposed to be my rap.
Seriously?
* Schnee-burgler! *
Lobster truth, for real!
Ah, yes!
- My apologies. - No worries.
As long as we are dropping truth bombs...
let me hit you with this.
I'm proud of you.
Aw!
You may not hear that a lot.
- Not once. - Nope. - Never.
Tomorrow we test revolutionary equipment
that could change the face of the military.
And looking around this table tonight,
I have no doubt that I chose the right platoon for the job.
So if you'll indulge me.
He said we're his shining stars.
- Shut the heck up! - Aw! Oh, really?
I did. You deserve it.
Um, I-I have something to say, too.
- You guys are my shining stars, too. - Really?
- Come on. - Wrap it up.
I'm just saying. What makes the platoon special to me is
the closeness of our bonds, not the coolness of our toys.
Net gun! We're gonna use that tomorrow!
- O-M-G. - It's like this, right?
Pete, can you breathe in that?
Hurry up, we're losing light.
We're inside. The only way to lose light is if we turn off the lights.
Would you like permission to yell at me, Corporal?
Very much, Sergeant Major.
Permission granted.
Why are you making me do this?!
I literally missed the best day in Rear D history
to take a photo you could've gotten at the mall!
Well, the truth is...
I don't need a photo.
What?
All I was trying to do was get you excited.
About-about taking weirdly intimate portraits of you?
About anything!
Let's talk turkey.
You're not a good soldier.
You're useless.
To me and to the Army.
Fairly comprehensive insult.
I've seen slackers come and go,
but I promised your dad I'd look after you.
Which at the time didn't seem like such a project.
Be careful what you promise people!
Okay, how is this helping me?
I had an idea that just maybe
- you could be a photo journalist. - Why?
Because at one point you used to like taking pictures.
And you're a know-it-all smart-ass.
That's the journalist part.
And the Army's got newspapers.
That's actually some really good guidance counseling.
Hmm. Sorry you had to get into a milk bath.
I'm sorry I had to get out.
Not sure why you're winking.
This goes beyond the Army, son.
What are you gonna do with your life?
I always thought I could open a bookstore.
You know? Or a video store.
I'm actually starting to see your point.
Thank you, Sergeant Major.
Got to admit
I did actually get some good stuff.
That's because I can't take a bad picture.
Well, what about these?
Oh, that's fake. I mean...
Wow.
Yeah.
Oh, man, I feel sorry for the sons of bitches who are painting a wall today.
It'll be waiting for us when this is over.
Where are these magical weapons we're supposed to be testing?
Should I do a spider call?
Here, Mondo, Mondo, Mondo!
I'm gonna punch you in the back of the head.
Where's the Mondo Spider?
Oh, you mean the precision machine that cost $75 million in R&D?
They don't get to touch that.
What? I thought we were testing weapons.
Oh, we are.
It's a device that emits concentrated sound waves
that cause intense abdominal discomfort
and evacuation of the lower intestine.
Evacuation of the...
Wait, so it's a...?
A poo gun! That's not real.
Google it.
Oh, my God, it's real!
Yup.
And those dummies are down there
with a belly full of lobster.
So, the Army's working on a poo gun?
Well, it's more of a poo ray.
Poo ray!
Anyway... it's for non-lethal crowd control, blah, blah, blah.
- No, but you tricked them! - Yep.
Oh, I can't wait to see Sergeant Hill's face
when he realizes he begged for this.
And when he poops his pants.
Wait, you're gonna be down there with them?
Oh, yeah.
Alpha Company, in a moment a flag will appear.
Your objective is to capture that flag.
If you can.
Why is he in the spider? Is he warming it up for us?
Are you warming it up for us, sir?
Oh, maybe we get our own spiders!
Do we get our own spiders, sir?
What is she waving at?
She's saying, "Run.
"Poo.
Gun."
A poo-poo gun.
Oh, God, I thought that was just a rumor!
It's real!
Oh, God, the images!
Take cover, take cover!
Get down, get down!
Come on, let me shoot you!
Sergeant Hill!
You should've warned us about Lieutenant Schneeberger!
- I said he was the devil. - That just made him sound cool.
If I could put my spokesman hat on one more time.
The platoon is sorry.
I'm sorry. What's the plan, Pete?
- We've got to get Schneeberger! - We have to crush him!
Bring him to his Schnees.
That's a good one, huh?
- Can we have the surrender conversation? - No!
We obviously can't get the flag without "uh-oh."
- All right, want to get Schneeberger? - Yes!
It's gonna be messy.
- Who's in? - I'm in.
I'm in!
Randy, I need you to drive the Paint Cart 5000.
And I need you to drive it like an absolute idiot.
It's the only way I know how.
Hooah!
Here we go.
Yeah, baby!
Stay still!
- Ah, okay. - Yeah!
Steady it!
He's straightening out. Somebody text him, text him!
You're mine now.
Oh, hey, Cindy. On my way with the golf cart.
No!
What now, Pete?
Now...
- We make... - History?
You heard what I said.
Oh... okay.
Let's ride!
You're gonna have to get us all!
Whoa, a human shield?
Oh, God!
Oh!
Oh, crapping!
This is the most beautiful disgusting thing.
Oh, I've been hit!
But I go down with pride.
Aw, too much lobster.
Get him, Pete!
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Wait, wait, wait, wait!
- Okay, okay! - Say, "I'm sorry."
I'm sorry.
- I'm sorry, bro. - I'm sorry, bro.
I'm still gonna shoot you.
Oh! Oh, God, it works!
Oh, God, it works so well!
Yes, it does!
Yeah!
Yay.
Guys, that was amazing.
Chubowski, clutch your stomach again.
Park, keep writhing.
Derrick, where were you?
Sorry, guys, I am a photo journalist now.
Believe me, it was hard to stay neutral.
Outgunned and defenseless, the brave men and women
of Alpha Company piled onto a golf cart
and hurled themselves headlong into the path
of a weapon that knew not mercy.
A great deal came out of them that day.
But the most surprising thing was courage.
Sync and corrections by brayanatsix www.addic7ed.com