No, no, no. Nope.
You got any stuff that doesn't suck?
Captain, you are a very discerning customer.
I find that very attractive in a man.
Very sexy. I find myself totally aroused by you.
- So non-sucky stuff. What you got? - Well, could I interest you in--?
Hey, what you got there? Pudding puppets?
That, my handsome captain, is a Gloop.
Give me! Give me, give me!
The Gloops are an ancient and mystical race from the Xandar dynasty--
This one's named Squishface, and we are out of here.
Wait! There is one rule.
- Wait! - Yeah, rule, got it.
You must never, ever, ever give him liquor of any sort.
Gonna get you all cleaned up then take you for a ride in the Murph-mobile.
Get you a little hat. You like pudding?
Sure you do. I love you, Squishface.
What, did you get some booze in your eyes, kiddo?
A baby Gloop.
Kick ass, Mommy Squishface.
You got knocked up pretty good, huh?
They're adorable. I could eat them up with a spoon.
Yeah, because they taste like candy.
Wait. I thought you only got one.
Squishface is a single mom.
I should probably run some tests. They might not be as harmless as they look.
Don't be such a downer all the time.
Listen to that. He made a little poot.
Isn't he cute, Marco?
Yeah, for a little white turd.
Hey!
Check it out. He's gigging you.
Yeah, that's Pudge. He's the cutup.
Wow! They turn into shapes.
Captain, can I have one? Please?
Man, I don't know. Man, man, man.
What do you think, Squishface?
Then spread the Gloopy gospel.
Wait a minute. These things may carry viruses or disease.
If you can't say anything nice, do us all a favor...
-...and keep that big mouth of yours shut! - They could have infectious diseases.
I'm about to infect you with the back of my hand.
- But-- - Back of the hand!
I'll just go see how the kelp harvest is coming along.
Yeah, go on and harvest yourself some more jerk plants...
...to live in the jerk town that you're the jerk mayor of!
Sweet! He's doing me.
I'll call him Little White Stormy.
These are the cutest things I've ever seen.
A little stinky though.
Like ferrets. God, I hate ferrets.
Good luck finding a candy-flavored ferret.
Go on. Shoo, shoo.
Hey! Look at that! She's doing a little merengue.
- They totally kick ass. - Good luck finding a candy-flavored ass.
Captain, is there anything we should know? Like, food and stuff?
- What do they like to eat? - What don't they like to eat?
Right?
So we're out of here. Sniff you jerks later.
Hey, Sparks, do you know where I can find some--?
What is that smell?
Damn stink-blobs.
It's like living in a fat guy's pants in here.
Oh, what? You gonna hit me?
Oh, gross, you gummy little bastard!
Here. You want some of this?
Hey! Don't hit the Gloop baby.
Let go, you little jerk!
- Can't move my fingers. - Hey, hey, come on.
- Get off! - Leave him alone.
Sparks, the vaporators are-- Oh, damn! What's going on in here?
Smacking and farting.
Let go, you smelly rat bastard.
Stop hitting him! You're triggering their natural defense mechanism!
What? The reek of wet ass?
Methane sulfate.
Apparently, they release it when they're angry or threatened.
Or just whenever.
I bet that's what the smell is.
Really.
Get this damn thing off of me!
Come on, Squishface. I found a sandwich in here. What the--?
- Stop that, you idiot! - You stop it!
Silence!
How did you learn to talk to them?
I've always known. Somewhere deep down inside me where...
Where the special place is...
...inside...
...forever.
That's touching, but here's the deal:
All this methane sulfate is overloading the vaporators.
If the Gloops stay, we run out of air.
So it's either us or them.
Then I vote Gloops.
Well, I'm afraid that's not an option.
Then don't couch it as one!
Captain, come on! Don't you smell that?
I smell happiness.
- You smell happiness. - Love and happiness.
Yes, I do. I most certainly do.
Hello. Hey. Hello. Hey, up there.
This is the Agripod.
We got a little situation down here.
My God. The kelp harvest.
The whole year's crop.
I think they're getting mad because the kelp's about gone.
Help!
Dead. Help.
Agripod, come in! Come in!
That does it. Come on, Marco, we gotta stop them.
You can't stop them-- I mean, no, no, they're harmless and sweet.
See the little dance there?
We've got to exterminate them!
All they want to do is dance and love you.
The methane sulfate will kill us!
Damn it, man, they taste like candy!
Marco, you in or out?
Man. Man!
I'm torn between my love of Gloops...
...and my love of killing.
Okay, let's grease them.
No, I forbid you. This is mutiny.
I'll gut you two from stem to stern.
This time, the seas really will run red.
Skip. Skip, for God sakes, get a hold of yourself.
- What did you say? - Well, I mean, come on, skip.
You're losing it.
That thing eating your brain or what?
Oh, the horror!
Oh, the deadly aroma!
Eating my brain. That's rich...
...coming from a skeleton.
Come on, Squishface.
We gotta hide you.
Stay frosty, everybody.
Stormy, you picking up any methane?
Yeah! Five meters.
Four meters. Oh, man!
I don't see anything. Where are they?
Get ready! I want good muscle discipline, people.
Don't worry. I won't let them hurt my little Gloopies.
Squishface, would you be so kind as to pass the jam?
You sure did. You sure did.
- Two meters. - You reading that right?
- Shut up! - Where are they?
- One meter! - I need ammo.
- Now, what's all that racket?
- Where the hell are they? - One meter.
- They're right on top of us. - Oh, my God. The air vents.
Smoke him! You want some of the Q?!
- Bring it! - Oh, yeah!
Oh, sweet Mary. They got Pudge.
Good sweep, crew. Stormy, where's the rest of the little turds?
Holy bejesus!
It looks like the mother lode.
Twelve meters, 1 o'clock.
That's it. Just a little closer.
- Two-by-two cover formation, people. - Suppressing fire from the corners.
Five meters. Again.
I can totally smell them already.
- Three meters. Two meters. - Now!
- Oh, my God! - Mother of Jesus!
- Fire! Let him have it! - Yeah!
Yeah, baby!
You want some of the Q now?
- Burn, burn, burn! - Burn, baby!
This is for Pudge!
Yes, but only for a few minutes. He needs his rest.
Oh, my God. He's all burned.
Yes, those melting Gloops really did some deep tissue damage.
Imagine, if you will, being encased inside a giant roasting marshmallow.
Really imagine it.
- Do it. - Captain?
Captain, can you hear me?
Who's that? Quinn?
Captain, we're sorry that we had to...
Hose you down with napalm like that.
Yeah. But I think you learned a valuable lesson, right?
I did.
I can't think of what it is right now because of all the pain...
...but I'm sure I learned something.
Can--? Can we get you anything?
Thirsty. So thirsty.
Can I have a glass of bourbon?
Sure thing. We'll send the nurse in with some liquor.
- Come on, everybody. - Okay, you give them hell, sir.
Eye of the tiger.
Yeah, I'm thirsty.
You thirsty, Squishface?
- Hi. - Yeah, nice try, sir.
You'll... You'll probably want to close your eyes.
Oh, please, don't.
And five, six, seven, eight.
Shutf, tapple, tapple, fart.
Shutf, tap-- Damn it, Kevin.
Shutf, tapple, tapple, fart.
What's so hard about that?
Now again, from the top. And sparkle.
Five, six, seven, eight.
Shuff, tapple, tapple, fart.
Shuff-- Stop. Just stop. Kevin!
Come back when you're ready to be a star, huh, pal?
When we open next week...
...it ain't gonna be me up there making a fool of myself.
[ENGLISH]