♪ MVA ♪ ♪ MVA ♪
♪ Monsters vs. Aliens ♪
♪ It's us vs. them ♪
♪ Foe vs. friend ♪
♪ Brain vs. B.O.B. ♪
♪ It's a super-freaky job ♪
Oh, yeah, it's freaky.
♪ MVA ♪
♪ Monsters vs. Aliens ♪
♪ MVA ♪
1x20 - Curse of the Man-Beast
sync & correction by f1nc0 ~ addic7ed.com ~
Wait. Wait. Whoa, wait. Whoa, wait. Whoa.
We were supposed to have another monster on the team?
They call it "the Man-Beast."
General Monger flew out here to recruit him years ago,
but he came back empty-handed.
So with Monger's "may or may not be birthday"
coming up tomorrow, surprise!
We're gonna bring home the one that got away.
Birthday present and a new teammate/best friend?
Better practice my super-excited face!
Let's do this.
Has anyone considered perhaps the General
left the Man-Beast here for good reason?
So maybe he forgot his key and he has a temper.
- Anyway, who's taking point here? - I'll go.
Just have to talk it out, monster to monster.
But you guys come in hot if it goes bad.
Got your back, Suze.
Wait! Let me.
I know just how to deal with a ferocious beast.
Fetch! Catch the ball!
Walkies, who wants walkies?
Peace, my strange blue friend.
A monster I may be but not a dog.
Right in my nose!
Nobody eats B.O.B. on my... whoa!
Back, you feral...
Ow!
Oh, my gosh, who's the Sparkle Fangs fan...
Susan!
Bad Man-Beast! Bad!
Oh, no. What have I done?
Rest, little sparrow. I've got you.
Okay.
Thanks for the save. And sorry about the fighting you stuff.
We thought you'd be all bitey, not so...
Soulful, piercing eyes that hide a whisper of sadness.
Okay, yeah, I was not gonna say that.
It's all right. I'm used to being
tragically misunderstood.
- Susan, are you all right? - Sorry.
Sad bad boys are, like, my secret romantic weakness.
Hi, I'm B.O.B. You're gonna join our team now.
- Best friends, yay! - I don't understand.
- Join what? - Team monster.
Earth's freakish heroes? Area 50-something?
Of course. That jetpack General who yelled a lot
and made my feelings so very, very... sad.
Sorry, sorry, all good. Carry on.
I-I still don't know
that I can trust myself around other people.
This horrible curse...
you don't know what it's like.
My good sir, I believe you'll find we do know what it's like.
Yeah, we're all monsters. You'll totally fit in.
Although dreamy, handsome guy spot's already taken, so, you know, ocupado.
I don't know. Maybe you could be the funny one.
Oh, yeah, he's the funny one!
- I accept. - Yes! High fives!
B.O.B., you silly! We always do welcome hugs...
while staring smolderingly into each other's souls,
sharing our deepest hurt...
Sometimes I think I'm pudding.
Monsters, explain this unauthorized jet-swiping overnight mission.
- Surprise! - Happy birthday, probably.
While I cannot confirm the accuracy
of your celebration, I will accept your present.
- Thank you. Give me. - Behold, your newest monster,
the dangerously yummy Man-Beast.
Wow, secret army base! You guys have lasers, right?
Uh, what is that?
- Hey! - Who-hoo!
You brought that pencil-necked werewolf
on my base on my birthday?
- Which it may or may not be. - Wait. He's a werewolf?
Whoo!
Hi, I'm the Man-Beast.
You can call me "the Beast" or for dinner
'cause you're pretty and we should kiss.
I'm gonna touch all the buttons now!
Oh, buttons. Feel you, bro.
No, no, no, no, this is impossible. He's a savage but sensitive beast.
- That's his horrible curse. - No, that's his curse:
One night a month of awesome beast, 29 days of that guy.
Wow, a rocket! Ah!
It's a pretty good rocket, but I've actually seen
better rockets, so actually, it's lame.
Ow, I'm blind!
Which is exactly why I didn't recruit him the first time!
So your "may or may not be birthday" present
may or may not be ready yet.
Why don't you go enjoy your day, and we'll fix this, okay?
Tell me "fix it" means
"take the man-dweeb back to the geek shack."
J.K. Totally not blind. But I did find this in my ear.
- Does it look infected? - Mm, he's the Doctor.
I'm not that kind of Doct... ugh, he wiped it on my lab coat.
Star-crossed romance, Link. Don't fight my destiny!
Pretty sure your destiny doesn't involve
dingus dorkburger wiping earwax on lab coats.
Yes, he's in a bad place right now.
But somewhere inside that dorkburger
is a tragically beautiful beast waiting to get out.
All he needs is a righteous babe who won't give up on him.
- Righteous? - Hey, girl.
I can make noises with 17 parts of my body.
This one's a mouth noise...
Okay, forget the babe plan. Can you just mad-science shrieky geeky
- back into tasty wolf mode or something? - I thought you'd never ask.
Synthetic moonstone:
97% lunar minerals, 3% assorted filler.
Ooh, glowy.
Full moonlight causes the Man-Beast's transformation,
and the lunar energy in this stone should produce the same effect.
Faster, Doc. He's messing with the DVR!
Did you know there's a whole channel of air being let out of balloons?
Put the amulet on his neck,
and he should transform back to wolf mode,
unless the 3% filler causes an unforeseen negative reaction to...
- Thanks, Dr. C! - Susan, the disclaimer!
Wow, a present! Aw, you must be totally into me.
You know, they're gonna call us "Beast-Normica."
We should lip lock.
How about after you try on your present?
Wow!
Wow...
So there was talk of maybe locked lips?
Hey! Second date, buddy, second date!
- Whoa. - He looks bitier than I remember.
Negative reaction, just as I unexpected.
Well, it's not like it's science.
Don't let him get... dang.
♪ Happy may or may not be birthday to General... ♪
Guard your cheeseburgers!
Unhand the ham... burgers.
Is he even stronger than last time?
It's the synthetic moonstone. We must destroy that amulet.
Okay, sure, that's an option. Or couldn't you just fix the moonstone,
you know, add some "handsome-onium" or whatever?
You know that eventually the meat patties will run out.
What will your darling Man-Beast eat then, Susan?
- Hmm? - That guy?
Ugh, fine. Heads up. Going big.
Hold still.
Got you!
- Susan? - You're okay.
And you're so snuggly.
- Mm. - For now, yes.
But I already feel the change wrenching my soul.
- I'm so sorry, little sparrow. - No, I'm sorry.
I should never have tried to change you.
Deep down, I always knew the real lesson was...
Ah, forget lessons; we should just kiss
- while you're still super cute. - Agreed.
Wow, you are a really, really weak kisser.
I could do better. See you.
Gross. Ew.
You know, I got to give props where props is due.
The dorkburger does exit with style.
I'm riding off into the sunset!
That's the sunrise, you... Ugh. Just go away!
sync & correction by f1nc0 ~ addic7ed.com ~
- Hey! - Sorry, Suze.
- Air ball. I'll pick it up later. - Meaning it'll just lay there
until I get sick of looking at it and I throw it away.
You always beat me to it. You're a go-getter.
We like that about you.
And you. Dirty dishes on a clean counter...
- that doesn't bother you? - You do know I eat garbage.
Do you live in it? 'Cause that's what'll happen
if I stop mopping up after you three.
What?
- I'm done! - Nowhere near.
You missed a few things there and there and that pile over there.
- Come on, are you blind? - No, Link.
I mean I'm done picking up after you guys.
Oh, right. Yeah.
No, I knew that. Yeah.
She acts like we can't take care of ourselves.
I'm bunking with Sqweep.
You guys want to wallow in your own filth,
have fun with that.
Shoot. Toothbrush.
Ew.
I'm wallowing in my own filth, and I've never felt more alive!
How... I mean, two seconds...
You know what? Don't care.
I'll get another toothbrush.
Susan may have a point. No one loves trash more than I do,
but one can have too much of a good thing.
Gentlemen, we need to clean.
Yeah, I guess.
- But cleaning is so boring! - Not necessarily.
This will be an excellent opportunity
to learn how to be what Earth people call "roomies."
Totally! Pillow fights, board games...
- Advanced astrophysics... - Sure, and you're gonna love
having me as a roommate, 'cause I'm clean.
Some even say I'm a bit of a neat freak.
Likewise.
- Sweet! - Susan?
- Your skin cells are shedding onto me. - Oh. Sorry.
Might I suggest a molecular scrub?
Ooh, is that sort of like a spa thing?
Not exactly.
- You're going down, chump. - Bring it.
Goal.
At this rate, we'll have to play for six years,
two months, and eight days to clean this mess,
But who cares? Face-off!
So how do we score that?
- Ah, I've rolled a flangflong. - Meaning?
I move my piece the square root of the
absolute mass of the universe divided by Pi.
- Which is? - Three.
- Any child would know that. - Oh, right.
Come on, mama needs a flangflong.
What are you doing?
Blowing on the dice... for luck?
How is exhaling disgusting microbes lucky?
It's a...
For a self-proclaimed neat freak, your cleanliness is lacking.
No, no, I like clean. I really do.
I'm glad to hear it, because once again,
it's molecular scrubbing time, Susan.
Ouch.
Oh, hey, guys. I see you.
So we're in the right spot?
Yup. I see you and Link and...
Hey, who's your friend?
- You're looking at yourself, B.O.B. - Can we go now?
This place is giving me the heebies and the jeebies.
Nothing to fear. It's just a room of...
Zombies! Zombies...
Who are completely frozen,
so they're not really that scary.
Get ahold of yourself, man.
You really... wow, that's embarrassing.
Oh. I know I'm not always the quickest to catch on,
but why the zombies?
Welcome to Level "Z": Zombie storage.
These fellas were rounded up in '68
after an outbreak in the Pittsburgh metro area.
Sadly, zombies didn't make the cut for Team Monster.
They just can't keep their teeth to themselves.
Also, they ain't the most durable.
Wow, that was... amazingly informative.
You know, mad science has shown it is possible
to domesticate a zombie.
Suppose we trained one to tidy up for us.
- A zombie butler. - Precisely.
Okay, let's do a deep dive on this.
I like the whole "someone else does our job" part.
That's strong. But honestly, not a fan
of the "one bite leads to a zombie apocalypse" part.
That part: Weak.
But what if our zombie is of the toothless variety?
- No teeth equals no bites. - Oh, Linky likey.
I call dibs on naming it!
Hurry, Doc. He's gumming me.
There's our carrot. Here's our stick.
Sweep, zombie. Sweep.
- Drools says he doesn't do floors. - You speak zombie?
- You don't? - Tell Drools no sweepy, no smoothie.
Nice. What's in that smoothie anyway?
A veritable undead buffet:
rancid meat, sun-dried roadkill, maggots...
Oh, Drools. Over here, my dead man.
Avian debris everywhere.
That's the fun of a pillow fight, roomie.
Dust mites. We are surrounded.
- Oh, okay, do you have a... - Quantum vacuum cleaner.
Oh! Cute, it's like... whoa!
- Ow! - Susan, this is not hygienic.
Or comfortable.
Does this thing have a reverse or something?
Whoa!
How unfortunate. Now you are covered in dust mites.
You know what this means.
Zombie butler rules!
Rules.
I'm gonna say it again, a little more swagger this time:
♪ zombie butler rules ♪
♪ rules ♪
♪ singing things ♪
Hey, not a criticism, just a comment...
just saying a skosh less finger in mine next time, okay, buddy?
Gentlemen, I find myself feeling a trifle bored.
Listen, I hear you, Doc.
Drools does everything for us, except...
Hockey!
Hey, come on. That's twice now.
Seriously, we got to step up our defense.
Great, more butlers!
Ah! Zombies! Zombies!
Welcome to Level "Z."
Wel... welcome to Level "Z."
I order you to cease and be deceased!
- Translation, B.O.B.? - They want to be our friends...
and eat us but in a friendly way.
- That's nice. - You realize, of course,
there is only one course of action available to us.
- Wait. What? - We're having a little issue
with our housekeeping service.
Our... butler totally went to pieces.
He lost his head and a leg and most of his left arm.
So you guys need me to clean up
yet another one of your messes?
Yes. And promptly, if you would.
Well, you're out of luck, guys. I'm Sqweep's roomie now.
Susan, you're still oozing microbes all over.
We need to double your molecular scrub.
All right, fine.
Since you're begging me to come back...
- I wouldn't say "begging." - That is overstating it a bit.
Sqweep, you've been a wonderful and very clean roommate,
But what can I say? They need me. Bye.
I'm going to have to decontaminate this whole room.
The zombie apocalypse is your little mess?
Give me a minute.
I need to borrow something.
Hey.
Hold on, guys.
Whoa!
Dr. C, reroute the exhaust to the mess hall.
- Done. - And now reverse.
Well, the mess hall is now aptly named.
Yup, and this time, you guys are gonna clean it up.
But it'll take us forever
to get all these zombies back to Level "Z."
Drools says he'll help.
Face-off!
sync & correction by f1nc0 ~ addic7ed.com ~