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Paradise PD

Fuel For The Fire

By: Trenton Sands

Scene 1

Randall, Kevin, Gina, Stanley, Dusty and Bullet are installing some new carpet for Mavis Crawford. Mother of Randall Crawford. Grandmother of Kevin.

The living room is a disaster. Carpet rolls cover the furniture, Stanley is drinking something from a bottle labeled “INDUSTRIAL ADHESIVE,” and Dusty is attempting to staple a carpet to the ceiling.

Randall stands over a toolbox while Kevin reads the instructions.

Mavis: Randall, I swear to God, if you ruin one thing in this house, you're paying for it!

Randall: Mom, I'm a professional.

Kevin: You're a police officer.

Randall: Exactly. I've professionally ruined several crime scenes.

Stanley: I once ruined an entire crime scene by accidentally eating the evidence.

Gina: You ate a bag of cocaine.

Stanley: I thought it was powdered sugar! In my defense, it was a very festive crime scene.

Bullet: Can we hurry this shit up? I've been sniffing this carpet for twenty minutes, and I still can't tell whether somebody had sex on it.

Dusty: I can!

Everyone turns toward Dusty.

Dusty: What? I'm a carpet expert. You can tell a lot about a person by their carpet. This one smells like old people, mothballs, and a deleted scene from The Golden Girls.

Mavis: That's enough! My boyfriend is coming over, and I want this house to look respectable.

Randall: Your boyfriend? You mean Professor Vyne? The old science guy?

Mavis: He's a distinguished chemist, Randall. He's intelligent, sophisticated, and has a government security clearance.

Stanley: I have a security clearance.

Kevin: You were banned from the courthouse after trying to sell the judge a stolen leaf blower.

Stanley: And I stand by my business model.

A knock at the door. Professor Vyne enters, wearing a tweed jacket and carrying a leather briefcase.

Professor Vyne: Good afternoon, everyone. I see the carpeting is progressing.

Dusty: Yeah! We're making your house look like the Overlook Hotel, except without the creepy twins. Although Stanley's been standing in the hallway whispering, "Redrum," for the last fifteen minutes.

Stanley: It's a palindrome. I'm cultured.

Mavis: Professor, darling! How was your morning?

Professor Vyne: Productive. I spent six hours working on a classified government project.

Kevin: What kind of project?

Professor Vyne: I'm afraid I can't discuss that.

Randall: Is it aliens?

Professor Vyne: No.

Gina: Time travel?

Professor Vyne: No.

Bullet: A machine that makes dogs immortal?

Professor Vyne: Absolutely not.

Dusty: A robot that does your taxes while you watch Breaking Bad?

Professor Vyne: Why does everyone assume scientists are building ridiculous things?

Stanley: Because of Rick and Morty.

Professor Vyne sighs and carries his briefcase upstairs.

Kevin: Something's fishy about that guy.

Randall: Kevin, you think the vending machine is conspiring against you.

Kevin: It gave me Diet Coke when I pressed regular.

Gina: That's not a conspiracy. That's a technological intervention.

Outside, a suspicious-looking man watches the house through binoculars from behind a hedge.

His name is Rork, an Armenian intelligence officer with the tactical instincts of a drunken raccoon.

Rork: Target identified. Professor Vyne. Elderly chemist. Secret government rocket fuel. We abduct him, steal the formula, and deliver it to the supreme commander. Then I get promoted.

He looks down at a photograph of Professor Vyne.

Rork: Easy. Even Jason Bourne couldn't screw this shit up.

Inside the house, Dusty accidentally fires a nail gun into the ceiling. A piece of plaster crashes onto Rork's head.

Rork: SON OF A BITCH!

He falls backward into a garbage can.

Rork: I hate America.

Scene 2

It's now night. The Paradise PD have finished the carpeting.

Randall, Kevin, Gina, Stanley, Dusty, and Bullet are asleep in the living room because Randall spent the money for their hotel rooms on a novelty Batman costume.

Kevin: Randall, why does this couch smell like gasoline?

Randall: Because Dusty spilled gasoline on it.

Dusty: I was trying to make it waterproof!

Gina: That's not how waterproofing works!

Dusty: Well, the couch isn't wet, is it?

A black van screeches to a halt outside.

Several armed Armenian agents in black uniforms storm through the front door.

Rork: Nobody moves! This is an official operation of the Armenian military!

Stanley: Is that a real country?

Rork: It's a sovereign nation!

Bullet: So is my backyard when I'm drunk.

Rork: Seize the chemist!

The agents immediately tackle Kevin.

Kevin: WHAT THE HELL?!

Rork: We have him! The scientist is ours!

Randall: That's my son!

Rork: Your son is a brilliant chemist?

Randall: No, he's a police officer.

Rork: Precisely! The perfect cover!

Kevin: I HAVE A CRIMINAL JUSTICE DEGREE!

Gina: From a community college!

Kevin: THAT DOESN'T MAKE IT LESS REAL!

Two agents grab Randall. Another handcuffs Gina.

Stanley tries to fight back, but he gets distracted by a shiny belt buckle and accidentally handcuffs himself.

Stanley: I've been outsmarted by jewelry. What the hell is wrong with me?

Bullet bites an agent on the butt.

Agent: AAH! THE DOG IS EATING ME!

Bullet: That's what happens when you wear bacon-scented tactical pants, you dumbass!

Dusty, meanwhile, is still asleep.

Rork: Take all six prisoners!

Dusty: Five more minutes, Mom.

An agent throws Dusty over his shoulder.

Dusty: Wheeeee! School bus!

Rork glances at Kevin.

Rork: Professor Vyne, you are coming with us to Armenian territory.

Kevin: My name is Kevin Crawford!

Rork: A clever alias.

Kevin: I HAVE A WIFE AND A MORTGAGE!

Rork: The perfect American cover story.

Kevin: I AM GOING TO MURDER YOU!

Rork: Such passion. Truly the mind of a scientific genius.

The agents drag everyone into the van.

As the vehicle pulls away, Professor Vyne appears at the upstairs window, holding a cup of tea.

Professor Vyne: How peculiar. I wonder where everyone has gone.

He takes a sip.

Professor Vyne: Ah, well. More time for chemistry.

He closes the curtains.

Scene 3

An enormous military fortress stands in the mountains of Armenia, a fictional hostile nation with gray buildings, dramatic searchlights, and an alarming number of poorly maintained tanks.

The Paradise PD are dragged into a dark interrogation chamber.

Rork: Welcome to Armenia, America's least favorite vacation destination!

Dusty: I'm going on a tour.

Dusty wanders toward the door.

Guard: You're not going anywhere.

Dusty: I'm back!

Guard: YOU NEVER LEFT!

Dusty: Then how am I back?

The guard stares at him in exhausted disbelief.

Stanley: This place reminds me of The Shawshank Redemption.

Gina: Because we're in prison?

Stanley: No, because I have a plan to escape through the plumbing.

Kevin: The plumbing is a six-inch pipe.

Stanley: I have a very narrow emotional core.

Randall: Rork, listen to me. You've kidnapped American police officers. This is an international incident.

Rork: We don't fear your laws!

Gina: You should fear our legal system. It takes seventeen years to convict a man of jaywalking, and somehow we still have more paperwork than justice.

Rork: Silence! Professor Vyne, you will formulate the rocket fuel for our military.

Kevin: I don't know anything about rocket fuel!

Rork: Enough! We have your scientific credentials.

Rork slams a file onto the table. It contains Kevin's high school diploma, a photo of him holding a chemistry set, and a receipt from a hardware store.

Kevin: THAT'S A RECEIPT FOR DRAIN CLEANER!

Rork: A chemical purchase. Exactly what a rocket scientist would do.

Gina: By that logic, every plumber in America is secretly working for NASA.

Rork: Bring in the laboratory equipment!

Two agents wheel in a cart containing beakers, flasks, a rusty microwave, and a blender.

Kevin: You expect us to develop rocket fuel with a blender?

Rork: It was either this or an air fryer. We are working with budget constraints.

Dusty: I can help! I once made a smoothie that melted a plastic cup.

Randall: That's not a qualification!

Dusty: It was a very powerful smoothie.

Rork: You have twelve hours to produce the formula. If you fail, you will be sentenced to life in our maximum-security prison.

Stanley: Do they have cable?

Rork: No.

Stanley: Then I choose death.

Bullet: Can I have his cell?

Stanley: YOU'RE A DOG!

Bullet: And yet somehow I'm still the smartest person in this room.

Rork storms out.

Gina: Okay. Nobody actually knows how to make rocket fuel, right?

Kevin: Correct.

Randall: Great. We'll just stall until someone finds us.

Dusty: I know how to make something explode.

Everyone: NO!

Scene 4

A crowded convention hall is filled with sports enthusiasts, professional athletes, memorabilia collectors, and fans wearing jerseys of their favorite teams.

Booths advertise basketball, skiing, skateboarding, surfing, and extreme sports.

Fitz walks alongside Brett DeMarco, while their adopted daughter, Zeta, happily looks around at the various booths.

Zeta: Wow! This place is amazing! There are so many sports legends, championship trophies, and people who actually exercise for fun!

Fitz: That's right, sweetie. And today, we're going to introduce these people to some of the greatest sports movies ever made!

Brett DeMarco: We're talking about cinematic masterpieces! Against The Ropes, Slam Dunk Ernest, Rad, and Side Out! Four films that prove you don't need a big budget when you've got questionable acting and an excessive number of slow-motion sequences.

Zeta: Dad, those movies are considered cheesy cult classics at best.

Fitz: Exactly! Cult classics! That means they're classics, and the people who appreciate them are in a cult!

Brett DeMarco: We even brought promotional DVDs!

He proudly holds up a stack of DVDs featuring covers from the four movies.

Fitz: All right, let's find some customers!

The family approaches a booth occupied by several sports fans.

Fitz: Excuse me, gentlemen! Are you interested in some of the finest sports entertainment ever produced?

Sports Fan #1: Like ESPN documentaries?

Fitz: Better! Against The Ropes!

Sports Fan #1: Never heard of it.

Fitz: What about Slam Dunk Ernest?

Sports Fan #2: Isn't that the one with the guy from the Ernest movies playing basketball?

Brett DeMarco: YES! A landmark achievement in athletic cinema!

Sports Fan #2: No thanks. I'm here to meet actual basketball players.

Brett watches as the men walk away.

Brett DeMarco: Their loss. They clearly don't appreciate the intersection of slapstick comedy and sports.

Zeta: Or they just don't want to buy a movie about Ernest P. Worrell playing basketball.

Fitz: Don't be ridiculous. These people came to a sports convention. What could possibly be more relevant than sports movies?

Zeta: Sports.

Fitz glares at her.

Fitz: Keep that kind of logic to yourself, young lady.

The family moves to another booth. A young woman wearing a basketball jersey is browsing sports memorabilia.

Brett DeMarco: Ah! A young woman! Surely she appreciates athletic cinema!

He approaches her with a DVD of Side Out.

Brett DeMarco: Hello there, gorgeous. Are you a fan of volleyball?

Young Woman: I play volleyball, actually.

Brett DeMarco: Oh, that's wonderful! Because I happen to possess a tremendous amount of knowledge about volleyball. In fact, I could spend hours discussing the sport with a beautiful woman like you.

Young Woman: Okay...

Brett DeMarco: And if you'd like, we could go somewhere private, watch Side Out together, and I could give you a very personal demonstration of my own athletic abilities.

The woman slowly turns to stare at him.

Young Woman: Excuse me?!

Brett DeMarco: What? I'm talking about volleyball! Although I wouldn't object to a little extracurricular activity!

Young Woman: SECURITY! THIS CREEP IS HARASSING ME!

Fitz: BRETT!

Zeta: Oh, my God. You actually did it.

Brett DeMarco: Did what? I was attempting to promote a sports movie!

Young Woman: He just invited me somewhere private and started talking about his athletic abilities!

Brett DeMarco: I was being charming!

Young Woman: You were being disgusting!

Two security guards immediately approach the group.

Security Guard #1: All right, what's going on here?

Young Woman: This guy won't leave me alone!

Brett DeMarco: That's an outrageous exaggeration! I merely offered to share my appreciation for volleyball and cinematic excellence!

Security Guard #2: Sir, you're going to have to leave.

Fitz: Wait a minute! We're exhibitors! We're here to promote our sports movies!

Security Guard #1: You're not registered as exhibitors.

Fitz: We brought DVDs!

Security Guard #1: That doesn't make you exhibitors.

Zeta: I tried telling them that this morning.

Brett DeMarco: This is censorship! A direct attack on independent sports cinema!

Security Guard #2: Keep talking and we'll have you escorted out in handcuffs.

Fitz: All right, all right! We're leaving!

As the guards escort the family toward the exit, Brett looks back at the woman.

Brett DeMarco: YOU'RE MAKING A TERRIBLE MISTAKE! SIDE OUT IS A VERY IMPORTANT FILM!

Young Woman: GET LOST!

Zeta: Smooth move, Brett.

Brett DeMarco: I was trying to establish a connection!

Zeta: You established a restraining-order speedrun.

Fitz: Unbelievable! We pay good money to attend this thing, and they throw us out because Brett has a healthy appreciation for women and low-budget sports movies!

Zeta: That's not why they threw us out.

Brett DeMarco: One day, the world will recognize the genius of Rad, Against The Ropes, Slam Dunk Ernest, and Side Out!

Fitz: That's the spirit! Now let's get the hell out of here before they call the police!

Scene 5

In Rork's office, a young Armenian intelligence analyst named Vek is reviewing surveillance photographs.

Vek: Captain Rork, we may have a problem.

Rork: If this is about the coffee machine, I already shot it.

Vek: The man we abducted is not Professor Vyne.

Rork: What?

Vek: His name is Kevin Crawford. He's an American police officer.

Rork: Impossible! He had the face of a chemist!

Vek: What does a chemist's face look like?

Rork: Intelligent! Mysterious! Slightly disappointed in humanity!

Vek: Sir, that describes every man in a pharmacy.

Rork snatches the photograph.

Rork: Then where is Vyne?

Vek: Still in America. At home. Apparently enjoying tea.

Rork: And who else did we capture?

Vek: Randall Crawford, Stanley Hopson, Gina Jabowski, Dusty Marlow, and a dog.

Rork: We abducted an entire police department and a dog?

Vek: Yes, sir.

Rork: Why didn't you tell me this earlier?!

Vek: I did. Three times. You kept saying, "Excellent work, men."

Rork grabs his cap and hurls it across the room.

Rork: I am surrounded by incompetent idiots!

The cap lands on a mounted security camera, knocking it off the wall.

Vek: Should I document that as equipment damage?

Rork: I WILL DOCUMENT YOUR FACE WITH MY FIST!

Scene 6

The prisoners are brought to a laboratory. The walls are covered in complicated chemical diagrams, half of which are actually doodles of cartoon characters.

Rork: The supreme commander demands results! You will make the rocket fuel, write the formula, and hand it over to us!

Kevin: We don't know how!

Rork: Then learn!

Gina: You can't force people to become rocket scientists in twelve hours!

Rork: We are a nation of determination!

Stanley: You're a nation of people who thought kidnapping the cast of Brooklyn Nine-Nine would work.

Randall: We're more like the cast of The Office if Michael Scott had a badge and a drinking problem.

Dusty: And I'm Dwight.

Gina: You're Creed.

Dusty: I don't know who that is, but I accept.

An agent puts a blank notebook in front of Kevin.

Agent: Write the formula.

Kevin: I don't have a formula!

Agent: Write something!

Kevin: Fine.

Kevin writes: “Rocket fuel = very fast fire juice.”

The agent stares at the page.

Agent: This is not a formula.

Kevin: Then why the hell did you ask me to write something?

The agent punches the table so hard that his hand gets stuck in a hole.

Agent: HELP ME!

Stanley: The table has claimed another victim.

Dusty starts mixing random ingredients in the corner.

Gina: Dusty! What are you doing?

Dusty: Science.

Gina: That's laundry detergent!

Dusty: It's a cleaning agent. NASA cleans things, right?

Randall: Put it down!

Dusty drops the bottle. It rolls across the floor and bumps into Stanley's foot.

Stanley: Oh, good. A beverage.

Kevin: DON'T DRINK THAT!

Stanley pauses with the bottle inches from his mouth.

Stanley: You people are constantly interfering with my hobbies.

Bullet sniffs a container and sneezes. A cloud of harmless blue powder bursts into the air, coating everyone.

Dusty: We look like the Smurfs!

Gina: We look like extras from Avatar after a meth lab explosion!

Randall: Nobody moves! We need to get out of here before they decide to use us as human test subjects.

Stanley: Too late. I already volunteered for a clinical trial.

Kevin: FOR WHAT?!

Stanley: They said they'd give me fifty dollars and a sandwich.

Gina: Stanley, that's a prison cafeteria!



SCENE 7

INT. CAR — DAY

Fitz is driving. Brett DeMarco sits in the passenger seat, while Zeta sits in the back, scrolling through her phone.

The radio plays an NPR segment discussing economic policy in a calm, soothing voice.

NPR HOST (V.O.): And now, an in-depth discussion of the long-term implications of monetary tightening—

Fitz: Oh, God. This is boring as shit.

Brett DeMarco: I don't know. I'm finding it strangely relaxing.

Zeta: You two sound like you're about to fucking fall asleep.

Fitz: Nonsense. I'm wide awake. I could drive for another—

Fitz's eyes slowly close.

Brett DeMarco: Fitz? You might want to keep your fucking eyes—

Brett's head slumps against the window.

Zeta: Dad? Brett?

The car drifts across the road.

Zeta: GUYS! THE FUCKING ROAD IS OVER THERE!

SFX: CRASH!

CUT TO BLACK.

EXT. ROADSIDE — LATER

The car sits crookedly against a roadside barrier, its front end badly damaged.

Fitz and Brett DeMarco slowly regain consciousness.

Zeta, miraculously unharmed, is taking pictures of the wreck on her phone.

Zeta: Well, that was a fun fucking family outing.

Fitz: What the hell happened?!

Brett DeMarco: I believe we fell asleep at the wheel while listening to public radio.

Zeta: You both nodded off during a discussion about interest rates. Honestly, I didn't know that shit was physically possible.

Fitz: Okay, everybody stay calm. It's probably just a minor accident.

Fitz climbs into the driver's seat and turns the ignition.

SFX: RRR-RRR-RRR-RRR.

The engine turns over but refuses to start.

Fitz: Come on, you piece of junk! START, YOU BASTARD!

SFX: RRR-RRR-RRR.

Brett DeMarco: I don't think yelling at it is going to help.

Fitz: Oh, really? Because yelling has gotten me through most of my goddamn life!

He tries the ignition again.

SFX: RRR-RRR-RRR.

Zeta: Maybe it needs a motivational speech.

Fitz: The only speech this car is getting is a fucking eulogy!

Fitz gets out and kicks the damaged bumper.

Fitz: DAMN IT! Now we need a tow truck, a rental car, and probably a fucking lawyer!

Brett DeMarco: On the bright side, at least we're all alive.

Fitz: Brett, I appreciate your optimism, but right now I want to punch something expensive in the goddamn face.

Zeta: You could punch the car. It's already expensive.

Fitz: Don't fucking tempt me.

SCENE 8

INT. MAVIS'S LIVING ROOM — DAY

Back in America, Mavis is sitting in her living room with Professor Vyne.

The new carpet is lumpy and stained.

Mavis: Darling, have you seen Randall?

Professor Vyne: Not since yesterday.

Mavis: And the others?

Professor Vyne: Presumably at work.

Mavis: They're police officers. They don't have work. They have vague obligations and a government pension.

Professor Vyne adjusts his glasses.

Professor Vyne: Mavis, there's something I should tell you.

Mavis: Are you married?

Professor Vyne: No.

Mavis: Do you have children?

Professor Vyne: No.

Mavis: Are you secretly a supervillain?

Professor Vyne: That's a rather specific question.

Mavis: I dated a man who built a bunker under his garage because he thought the Twilight movies were government propaganda. I've learned to ask these fucking questions.

Professor Vyne sighs.

Professor Vyne: I work on a classified government rocket-fuel project.

Mavis: Oh, that's nice.

Professor Vyne: It's extremely dangerous. My research could be used for military purposes, which is why I must keep it secret.

Mavis: So you've been lying to me?

Professor Vyne: I wouldn't call it lying. More like an omission.

Mavis: That's what my second husband said before I found the other family. The lying bastard.

She stands up.

Mavis: I'm going to make coffee. You can sit here and contemplate your moral failures.

She walks into the kitchen.

Meanwhile, an Armenian surveillance drone crashes through the window.

Professor Vyne: Oh, dear.

He examines it.

Professor Vyne: Armenian technology. That can't be fucking good.

He opens the drone's data storage and discovers a recording of Rork's interrogation chamber.

Professor Vyne: They've taken the police officers!

Mavis (FROM THE KITCHEN): WHAT THE FUCK?!

Professor Vyne: Randall and his colleagues have been abducted by foreign agents!

Mavis: AND YOU DIDN'T FUCKING NOTICE?!

Professor Vyne: I was conducting research!

Mavis: YOUR RESEARCH CAN WAIT! MY SON IS IN A FOREIGN PRISON, YOU ABSOLUTE NUMBSKULL!

She grabs a frying pan.

Professor Vyne: What are you going to do with that?

Mavis: Whatever Liam Neeson would do, except I'm not paying for international phone calls. Now let's go kick some foreign-ass!

SCENE 9

INT. FORTRESS — COMMANDER'S OFFICE — DAY

At the fortress, Rork stands before Supreme Commander Dravik, a stern military official with a magnificent mustache.

Dravik: Captain Rork, you were ordered to abduct one elderly chemist.

Rork: Yes, Supreme Commander.

Dravik: Instead, you abducted six American police officers, one of whom is a dog.

Rork: The dog was an unforeseen variable.

Dravik: You also threatened to execute a man who tried to explain that he was a police officer.

Rork: He was very convincing.

Dravik: You gave him a laboratory and demanded a rocket-fuel formula he doesn't possess.

Rork: I believed in his potential.

Dravik: YOU BELIEVED IN A MAN WHO THINKS DRAIN CLEANER IS A GOVERNMENT WEAPON!

Dravik slams his fist onto the desk.

Dravik: Effective immediately, you are demoted from Captain to Private!

Rork: Sir, please!

Dravik: Furthermore, you will spend the next thirty days cleaning the fortress latrines with a toothbrush!

Rork: A TOOTHBRUSH?!

Dravik: YOUR TOOTHBRUSH, YOU USELESS FUCKING MORON!

Rork stares in horror.

Dravik: And because I am a generous commander, you may keep your mustache.

Rork: Thank you, sir.

Dravik: I meant the mustache on your face. The one you glued onto your uniform portrait will be confiscated.

Two guards drag Rork away.

Rork: THIS IS WORSE THAN THE ENDING OF GAME OF THRONES!

Dravik: NOTHING IS WORSE THAN THAT FUCKING ENDING!

SCENE 10

INT. CAR RENTAL AGENCY — DAY

Fitz, Brett DeMarco, and Zeta enter a rental agency.

Unregistered Earl is standing behind the counter, flipping through a magazine.

Unregistered Earl: Well, well, well. Look what the tow truck dragged in.

Fitz: We need a loaner car while our vehicle is being repaired.

Unregistered Earl: What kind of car were you driving?

Brett DeMarco: A luxury sedan.

Unregistered Earl: A luxury sedan? Oh, I get it. One of those little girly cars.

Fitz's face goes red.

Fitz: EXCUSE ME?!

Unregistered Earl: You heard me. A girly car. Probably had heated seats, cup holders, and a little mirror for fixing your lipstick.

Brett DeMarco: I happen to enjoy heated seats.

Unregistered Earl: See? That's what the hell I'm talking about!

Fitz: Listen here, you unregistered jackass! Brett and I are men of distinction, refinement, and unparalleled masculinity!

Zeta: You both screamed when a moth flew into the car last week.

Fitz: THAT WAS A LARGE FUCKING MOTH!

Brett DeMarco: It was rather aggressive.

Unregistered Earl: Whatever you say, princesses.

Fitz slams both hands on the counter.

Fitz: I WANT THE MOST MACHO VEHICLE YOU'VE GOT!

Unregistered Earl: The most macho?

Fitz: Something big! Something intimidating! Something that looks like it could crush a Prius just by parking next to the damn thing!

Brett DeMarco: Preferably with four-wheel drive.

Fitz: And an engine that sounds like a thousand angry fucking gods!

Earl smirks, reaches for a set of keys, and tosses them across the counter.

Unregistered Earl: I've got just the thing.

He points through the glass doors at a massive HUMMER parked outside.

Unregistered Earl: One Hummer. Big, ugly, and about as subtle as a brick through a fucking window.

Fitz stares at the vehicle. His eyes begin to sparkle.

Fitz: It's beautiful.

Brett DeMarco: It's enormous.

Zeta: It's shaped like a refrigerator that joined the military.

Fitz: I'LL FUCKING TAKE IT!

Unregistered Earl: Try not to roll it over, princess.

Fitz: Oh, I'm going to show you exactly how much of a princess I am, you smug bastard!

Fitz grabs the keys and marches outside.

Zeta: This is going to be fucking hilarious.

EXT. RENTAL AGENCY PARKING LOT — MOMENTS LATER

Fitz stands proudly beside the Hummer.

Brett DeMarco walks around it, inspecting the vehicle.

Brett DeMarco: I have to admit, this is rather impressive.

Fitz: Impressive? Brett, this isn't a car. This is a declaration of war against every small vehicle on the fucking planet!

He opens the driver's door and climbs inside.

Fitz: GET IN, EVERYBODY! WE'RE GOING TO MAKE SOME GODDAMN HISTORY!

Brett climbs into the passenger seat. Zeta hops into the back.

Zeta: Do we get to run over anything?

Fitz: Absolutely fucking not!

A beat.

Fitz: Unless it's a pothole.

Brett DeMarco: Or a particularly annoying speed bump.

Zeta: I'm recording all of this.

Fitz starts the engine. It ROARS to life.

Fitz: OH, YEAH! NOW THAT'S WHAT THE FUCK I'M TALKING ABOUT!

Brett DeMarco: I can feel the vibrations in my spine!

Fitz: EARL CALLED US PRINCESSES! WELL, LET'S SEE HIM CALL US THAT NOW!

Fitz floors the accelerator.

The Hummer lurches forward.

Zeta: WOOOO! FAMILY ROAD TRIP!

EXT. TOWN STREETS — DAY

The Hummer rumbles down the road, taking up an intimidating amount of space.

Fitz drives with one hand on the wheel, wearing sunglasses.

Brett DeMarco has his window down and is grinning like a man who has just discovered unlimited credit.

Fitz: Look at those tiny little cars! Look at them scurrying out of our fucking way!

Brett DeMarco: We are practically kings of the road!

A compact car signals to change lanes.

Fitz: WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING, LITTLE MAN?!

The compact car immediately backs off.

Brett DeMarco: Oh, that felt fucking wonderful.

Zeta: You two realize that people are moving because they're afraid of getting hit, right?

Fitz: Fear is respect with its pants down!

Brett DeMarco: That's surprisingly profound.

Fitz pulls up beside a sports car at a red light.

Fitz: Nice little toy you've got there!

The sports car driver looks over nervously.

Fitz: DOES IT COME WITH FUCKING TRAINING WHEELS?!

Zeta: Dad, stop bullying people!

Fitz: I'm not bullying anybody! I'm establishing dominance!

The light turns green.

Fitz accelerates, leaving the sports car behind.

Brett DeMarco: I haven't felt this powerful since I successfully argued with a hotel clerk about a late checkout.

Zeta: You got charged for the extra night.

Brett DeMarco: I said I argued successfully. I never said I won.

Zeta laughs and leans back in her seat.

Zeta: You know what? I'm enjoying this. You guys are acting like a couple of cartoon supervillains.

Fitz: Cartoon supervillains? I'll have you know we're sophisticated gentlemen, damn it!

Fitz drives over a pothole with a tremendous THUMP.

Brett DeMarco: MY FUCKING SPINE!

Zeta: Sophisticated gentlemen with spinal injuries!

They all laugh as the Hummer roars down the road.

INT. LIMO REPAIR SHOP — DAY

Brett DeMarco's limousine is parked inside a garage.

A mechanic examines the rear end, which is visibly damaged.

Mechanic: Well, the repairs on the limo are going to take a little longer than expected.

Brett DeMarco: How much longer?

Mechanic: Two weeks, maybe three.

Brett DeMarco: THREE WEEKS?!

Fitz: Don't worry, Brett. We've got the Hummer. We don't need that old limo anymore.

Brett looks at him with a strange expression.

Brett DeMarco: Fitz, you don't understand. The Hummer has changed me. I walk differently now. I stand taller. I look at ordinary cars and feel pity.

Fitz: I know exactly what you mean.

They exchange a solemn nod.

Mechanic: Uh, guys? Your rental agreement says the Hummer has to be returned as soon as your original vehicle is repaired.

Fitz freezes.

Fitz: What the fuck?

Mechanic: The repair work on your car is almost done. You should be returning the Hummer tomorrow.

Fitz slowly turns toward Brett.

Fitz: Tomorrow?

Brett DeMarco: I'm afraid so.

Fitz: But... I can't go back to driving that little fucking car!

Brett DeMarco: Neither can I. I've become accustomed to looking down on other motorists. Literally and figuratively.

Fitz: There has to be something we can do!

Brett stares at the limousine's damaged rear end.

Then he looks at Fitz.

Brett DeMarco: You know, it's funny you should mention that.

Fitz: Brett, are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Brett DeMarco: If we're thinking about extending our rental period by arranging another unfortunate collision with the rear end of my limo...

Fitz: YOU BEAUTIFUL FUCKING GENIUS!

Zeta: Oh, my God. You two are going to commit insurance fraud, aren't you?

Fitz: We're not committing insurance fraud! We're simply creating a temporary automotive complication.

Brett DeMarco: An unexpected mechanical setback.

Zeta: That's insurance fraud with extra fucking syllables.

Fitz: Zeta, sweetie, sometimes grown-ups have to make difficult decisions.

Zeta: Like deciding which prison has the best recreational facilities?

Brett DeMarco: Precisely.

SCENE 11

INT. FORTRESS — PRISON CELL — DAY

Deep in the fortress, Professor Vyne and Mavis have somehow been captured after attempting to infiltrate the compound disguised as tourists.

They are thrown into the same cell as the Paradise PD.

Randall: Mom?!

Mavis: Randall!

Randall: How did you get here?

Mavis: Your boyfriend has a secret rocket-fuel project, and apparently the entire country wants it.

Kevin: Wait. Your boyfriend is the real chemist?

Professor Vyne: Yes.

Kevin: YOU MEAN I'VE BEEN THREATENED FOR SIX HOURS BECAUSE SOME IDIOT THOUGHT I LOOKED LIKE THIS GUY?!

Professor Vyne: I'm afraid so.

Kevin: I WANT COMPENSATION! I WANT A NEW CAR! I WANT A THERAPIST WHO DOESN'T LOOK AT ME LIKE I'M A FUCKING DISAPPOINTMENT!

Stanley: I want a sandwich.

Bullet: I want the agent who kicked me in the tail.

Gina: I want a competent villain. Is that too much fucking to ask?

A shy prison guard enters.

His name is Emil. He has a nervous smile, a neatly pressed uniform, and a bouquet of flowers.

Emil: Professor Vyne?

Professor Vyne: Yes?

Emil: I have admired your scientific papers for many years. Your work on propulsion theory is extraordinary.

Professor Vyne: Thank you.

Emil: And your hair is very distinguished.

Professor Vyne: My hair?

Emil: It has the elegance of a silver fox.

Mavis: Oh, for God's sake.

Emil: And you, madam, have the eyes of a young Elizabeth Taylor.

Mavis: I'm sixty-eight.

Emil: An elegant sixty-eight.

Mavis: Well, at least somebody in this country has fucking manners.

Professor Vyne: Emil, we're being held against our will. Could you possibly help us escape?

Emil: I would do anything for you, Professor.

Mavis: Anything?

Emil turns red.

Emil: Yes, ma'am.

Mavis: Then open the fucking cell.

Emil: Of course!

He unlocks the door immediately.

Randall: That's it? That's all it took?

Emil: I have always been a romantic.

Gina: You're a prison guard who just released international prisoners because you have a crush on an old scientist.

Emil: When you put it that way, it sounds irresponsible.

Stanley: It sounds like a Hallmark Channel movie with a much higher body count.

The group steps into the corridor.

Emil: But wait! Before you go, Professor, would you have dinner with me?

Professor Vyne: I'm afraid I have a girlfriend.

Mavis: Ex-girlfriend, pending further discussion.

Emil: I understand. Perhaps we could discuss thermodynamics over coffee?

Professor Vyne: That might be acceptable.

Mavis: OH, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! We're escaping from a military fortress, not filming The Bachelor!

SCENE 12

INT. FORTRESS — CORRIDORS — DAY

The group races through the fortress corridors.

Alarms begin blaring.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club's "Beat the Devil's Tattoo" plays.

ALARM: INTRUDERS DETECTED. INTRUDERS DETECTED.

Dusty: I knew we should've watched Mission: Impossible before coming here!

Gina: You watched Mission: Impossible. You thought Tom Cruise was a real secret agent.

Dusty: He does his own stunts!

Randall: Focus! We need to reach the launch platform!

Professor Vyne: My research laboratory is located in the east wing. There is a prototype rocket there.

Kevin: A working rocket?

Professor Vyne: Technically, yes.

Stanley: And technically, we're all going to fucking die.

Bullet: I've survived eating a box of rat poison. I'm not afraid of a rocket.

Gina: YOU WHAT THE FUCK?!

Bullet: It was a very tasty box.

The group rounds a corner and finds a window overlooking the outer courtyard.

Dusty: FREEDOM!

Dusty immediately attempts to climb out the window.

Randall: Dusty, wait! We need a plan!

Dusty: I HAVE A PLAN! IT'S CALLED FUCKING CLIMBING!

He gets one leg over the windowsill.

Guard: HALT!

A guard grabs Dusty's ankle.

Dusty: NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! I'M AN AMERICAN! WE HAVE FUCKING RIGHTS!

Another guard grabs his other leg.

Dusty: I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE! I HAVEN'T EVEN FINISHED WATCHING THE SIMPSONS!

Kevin: GRAB HIM!

Kevin grabs Dusty's left arm.

Randall grabs Kevin's waist.

Gina grabs Randall.

Stanley grabs Gina.

Bullet bites Stanley's trouser leg and pulls backward.

Stanley: THE DOG IS HELPING!

Gina: THE DOG IS EATING YOUR FUCKING PANTS!

Bullet: MULTITASKING!

The guards pull Dusty toward the window while the others pull him back.

Dusty: I'M NOT GOING BACK TO PRISON! I'M NOT GOING BACK TO FUCKING PRISON!

Randall: STOP KICKING ME IN THE FACE!

Dusty: I'M TRYING TO HELP!

Kevin: YOU'RE BREAKING MY FUCKING WRIST!

Gina: MY SHOULDER IS OUT!

Stanley: MY PANTS ARE COMING OFF!

Bullet: I REGRET NOTHING!

With one final yank, Dusty is pulled through the window, dragging Kevin, Randall, Gina, Stanley, and Bullet along with him.

They all crash into a pile of garbage cans in the courtyard.

Dusty: See? We made it!

Randall: YOU JUST FELL OUT OF A SECOND-STORY WINDOW!

Dusty: And I didn't die. That's called success.

Gina: That's called dumb fucking luck.

Stanley: It's also the title of my autobiography.

Suddenly, the guards surround them.

Rork: THERE THEY ARE!

Rork appears in a private's uniform, holding a mop.

Randall: Didn't you get demoted?

Rork: YES! AND IT'S ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!

Kevin: YOU KIDNAPPED US!

Rork: AND YOU RUINED MY CAREER!

Gina: You ruined your career when you mistook Kevin for a rocket scientist!

Rork: HE HAD THE GLASSES!

Professor Vyne: I don't wear glasses.

Rork pauses.

Rork: ...I knew that.

Mavis: You're a disgrace to mustaches everywhere, you pathetic little shit.

Rork: ATTACK!

The guards charge.

Stanley throws his shoes at them.

Bullet leaps onto an agent's back and begins barking directly into his ear.

Gina disarms two guards with a baton.

Randall punches a third guard so hard that the man's helmet spins around backward.

Randall: WHO'S THE ROCKET SCIENTIST NOW?!

Kevin: THAT DOESN'T EVEN FUCKING MAKE SENSE!

Randall: I'M UNDER STRESS!

Dusty attempts to sneak away while everyone fights.

Dusty: I'm going on a tour.

Guard: NOT AGAIN!

The guard tackles him.

Dusty: I'M BACK!

Guard: HA! NICE TRY, ASSHOLE! IT DIDN'T WORK THE LAST TIME YOU PULLED THAT! WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO IT AGAIN?!

The guard accidentally trips over a garbage can and knocks himself unconscious.

Dusty: I WIN!

Gina: YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!

Dusty: That's what makes me special.

SCENE 13

EXT. LIMO REPAIR SHOP — PARKING LOT — DAY

The Hummer sits in the parking lot.

Fitz and Brett DeMarco stand behind it, examining the limousine.

Fitz: All right. We just need to make the damage look convincing enough that the mechanic has to keep the limo for another couple of weeks.

Brett DeMarco: I hate to admit it, but the rear end has already been through quite a lot.

Zeta: That's because you keep fucking wrecking it!

Fitz: We are not wrecking anything. We're extending the rental period.

Zeta: BY WRECKING SOMETHING!

Brett DeMarco: Zeta, would you mind keeping watch?

Zeta: Sure. If anyone asks, I'll tell them my dads are two grown men who can't cope with driving a normal fucking car.

Fitz: You're a tremendous help, sweetheart.

Fitz climbs into the Hummer.

Brett gets into the limousine.

Brett DeMarco: Ready?

Fitz: Ready!

Zeta: This is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever seen.

Fitz: THREE... TWO... ONE!

The Hummer rolls forward and bumps into the limo's rear end.

SFX: CRUNCH!

A long silence follows.

Brett DeMarco: Well. That certainly wasn't subtle.

Fitz: Don't worry. We can make it work.

The mechanic comes running out of the shop.

MECHANIC: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!

Fitz: Terrible accident!

Brett DeMarco: The Hummer's brakes failed!

Zeta: YOU WEREN'T EVEN USING THE FUCKING BRAKES!

Fitz: ZETA!

MECHANIC: YOU'VE DAMAGED THE REAR END AGAIN?!

Brett DeMarco: It appears the universe has a personal vendetta against my limousine.

MECHANIC: THIS IS GOING TO TAKE AT LEAST ANOTHER TWO WEEKS!

Fitz and Brett exchange triumphant smiles.

Fitz: Oh, thank God.

Brett DeMarco: The Hummer lives to see another day!

Zeta: I'm going to need fucking therapy after dealing with this family.

EXT. CEDRIC THE ENTERTAINER'S MANSION — AFTERNOON

The Hummer pulls up outside a sprawling mansion.

Cedric the Entertainer stands in the driveway, wearing sunglasses and an expensive outfit.

He notices the vehicle and stares at it.

Cedric the Entertainer: Well, well, well. What do we have here?

Fitz climbs out, followed by Brett DeMarco and Zeta.

Fitz: Afternoon!

Cedric the Entertainer: That's a mighty fine Hummer you've got there.

Fitz: Thank you. It's the most masculine vehicle money can rent.

Brett DeMarco: We've been enjoying it tremendously.

Cedric the Entertainer: Enjoying it, huh? Let me ask you something. You boys ever think about letting somebody else take it for a spin?

Fitz: Depends. You planning on paying the rental fees?

Cedric the Entertainer: I don't pay rental fees. Rental fees pay me!

Zeta: That's not how money works.

Cedric the Entertainer: Who asked you, little lady?

Zeta: Nobody. That's never fucking stopped me before.

Cedric circles the Hummer, eyeing it enviously.

Cedric the Entertainer: I like this thing. Big tires. Big engine. Big attitude. It would look real good sitting in my driveway.

Fitz: Well, that's unfortunate, because we're keeping it.

Cedric the Entertainer: Keeping it? That thing belongs with a man who knows how to handle power!

Brett DeMarco: And you believe that man is you?

Cedric the Entertainer: Brother, I'm Cedric the Entertainer. I could make a golf cart look intimidating.

Zeta: I'm pretty sure you could make a golf cart look like it needs a fucking nap.

Fitz snickers.

Cedric's expression hardens.

Cedric the Entertainer: Oh, so that's how we're playing it?

Fitz: Relax, Cedric. We're just having a little fun.

Cedric the Entertainer: You wanna have fun? Fine. Have your fucking fun.

Cedric turns and walks toward his mansion.

Brett DeMarco: Well, that was unpleasant.

Fitz: He's just jealous. He's never seen this much raw automotive power before.

Zeta: I think he wants to kill you.

Fitz: Don't be ridiculous. He's a comedian.

Zeta: So was the last guy who tried to sell me a timeshare, and I still think he was a serial killer.

Fitz looks at the Hummer, then at Cedric's expansive lawn.

Fitz: You know what would be funny?

Brett DeMarco: What?

Fitz: If we did a few donuts on his lawn.

Zeta: No.

Fitz: Just a couple of circles! Nothing major!

Brett DeMarco: It would certainly demonstrate the Hummer's maneuverability.

Zeta: You're going to get yourselves fucking killed.

Fitz: Zeta, sweetheart, you're welcome to join us for the show.

Zeta grins and climbs back into the Hummer.

Zeta: Oh, I'm absolutely recording this shit.

EXT. CEDRIC THE ENTERTAINER'S LAWN — CONTINUOUS

Fitz floors the accelerator.

The Hummer spins in a circle on Cedric's immaculate lawn, tearing up the grass.

SFX: ROOOOOOAAAAAAR!

Fitz: YEAH! HOW THE FUCK DO YOU LIKE THAT, CEDRIC?!

Brett DeMarco: LOOK AT THOSE BEAUTIFUL RUTS!

Zeta: THIS IS GOING TO BE THE BEST FUCKING VIDEO I'VE EVER POSTED!

The Hummer completes another donut, spraying dirt across the driveway.

Fitz: THIS IS WHAT REAL MASCULINITY LOOKS LIKE, YOU SONS OF BITCHES!

Suddenly, the front door of the mansion flies open.

Cedric emerges, his face twisted with rage.

Cedric the Entertainer: OH, YOU HAVE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!

Fitz stops the Hummer.

He and Brett look at each other.

Fitz: Uh-oh.

Brett DeMarco: I believe the homeowner has noticed the landscaping alterations.

Cedric marches toward them.

Cedric the Entertainer: YOU THINK THIS IS A FUCKING GAME?!

Fitz: Come on, Cedric! It's just a little harmless fun!

Cedric the Entertainer: YOU JUST TURNED MY LAWN INTO A GODDAMN DIRT TRACK!

Brett DeMarco: In fairness, it was an excellent demonstration of the vehicle's capabilities.

Cedric the Entertainer: GET THE FUCK OUT OF THAT TRUCK!

Fitz and Brett stare at him.

Fitz: What are you going to do? Give us a stern lecture?

Cedric slowly removes his sunglasses.

Cedric the Entertainer: You boys have made a very serious mistake.

Zeta: Dad, maybe we should fucking leave.

Fitz: Why? What's he going to do? Tell us a joke?

Cedric suddenly plants his feet, spreads his arms, and lets out an earth-shattering roar.

Cedric the Entertainer: YOU HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHO YOU'RE DEALING WITH!

The ground trembles.

The Hummer begins to shake violently.

Brett DeMarco: Fitz?

Fitz: Yeah?

Brett DeMarco: I don't believe this is fucking normal.

Zeta: NO FUCKING KIDDING!

Cedric's muscles bulge as a massive wave of supernatural force erupts from his body.

His eyes blaze with fury.

Cedric the Entertainer: YOU WANTED TO PLAY WITH THE BIG BOYS?!

He grabs the Hummer by the front bumper.

Fitz: OH, COME THE FUCK ON!

Brett DeMarco: THAT IS PHYSICALLY IMPOSSIBLE!

Zeta: I'M POSTING THIS SHIT EVERYWHERE!

Cedric lifts the entire Hummer off the ground with one hand.

Cedric the Entertainer: WELL, LET ME SHOW YOU WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU MESS WITH THE WRONG FUCKING MAN!

Fitz: PUT US DOWN!

Cedric the Entertainer: YOU SHOULD'VE LISTENED TO YOUR DAUGHTER, YOU DUMB-ASS BASTARDS!

Cedric winds up like a baseball pitcher.

Brett DeMarco: Zeta, I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT WE LOVE YOU VERY MUCH!

Zeta: YOU COULDN'T HAVE SAID THAT BEFORE YOU DESTROYED THE FUCKING LAWN?!

Cedric the Entertainer: SAY HELLO TO NEW HAMPSHIRE!

With a mighty heave, Cedric hurls the Hummer into the sky.

Fitz: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Brett DeMarco: I REGRET FUCKING EVERYTHING!

Zeta: WOOOOOOOOOOO! THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN THE SPORTS CONVENTION!

The Hummer sails over the horizon at an impossible speed.

Cedric watches it disappear, dusting off his hands.

Cedric the Entertainer: That's what you get for messing with Cedric the Entertainer!

He turns toward the camera, grinning.

Cedric the Entertainer: TIC TAC TOE IN YOUR FACE!

He punctuates the line with an exaggerated gesture, delivering it with the same outrageous energy as his memorable moment in A Haunted House.

SCENE 14 — CONCLUSION

INT. FORTRESS — LABORATORY — DAY

The group reaches the laboratory.

Professor Vyne unlocks a secure cabinet and retrieves a metal case.

Professor Vyne: The rocket is fueled and ready for a short-range emergency launch. But we need to access the control system.

Kevin: Great. What the hell do we do?

Professor Vyne: I need the formula I was developing. It's in my notebook.

Mavis: You mean the notebook you've been carrying around for six months?

Professor Vyne: Yes.

Mavis: The one you left on my kitchen counter?

Professor Vyne: Yes.

Mavis: The one I used as a coaster?

Everyone stares at her.

Professor Vyne: YOU WHAT?!

Mavis: It had a coffee ring on it. I thought it was a grocery list.

Kevin: WE ARE GOING TO FUCKING DIE BECAUSE YOUR GIRLFRIEND USED CLASSIFIED RESEARCH AS A COASTER?!

Stanley: That's a very Seinfeld way to go.

Gina: Wait! Didn't the Armenians make us write down the formula?

Kevin: I wrote "very fast fire juice."

Randall: And I wrote "science stuff."

Stanley: I drew a picture of a sandwich.

Dusty: I wrote down the recipe for my smoothie.

Bullet: I ate the paper.

Gina: OF FUCKING COURSE YOU DID!

Professor Vyne: Fortunately, the rocket's emergency control system has a standard launch protocol. I can initiate it without the notebook.

Randall: Then do it!

Professor Vyne enters the control booth and begins operating the controls.

Professor Vyne: Everyone, get into the launch capsule!

Dusty: Is there a seat belt?

Professor Vyne: Yes.

Dusty: Is there a snack bar?

Professor Vyne: No.

Dusty: This is worse than Spirit Airlines. What a fucking rip-off.

The group piles into the capsule.

Stanley sits on Kevin's lap.

Bullet sits on Stanley's head.

Kevin: GET THE FUCKING DOG OFF ME!

Bullet: I'm the pilot now.

Gina: You don't have opposable thumbs!

Bullet: Neither does Dusty, and they let him vote.

Outside, Rork and his guards race toward the launch platform.

Rork: STOP THEM! STOP THAT FUCKING ROCKET!

An agent fires at the control tower.

A warning light flashes.

Professor Vyne: Oh, dear.

Mavis: What the hell does "oh, dear" mean?

Professor Vyne: It means the launch sequence has started.

Mavis: Can we stop it?

Professor Vyne: Not safely.

Randall: What does "not safely" mean?

Professor Vyne: It means we are leaving whether we like it or not.

Stanley: I knew I should've gotten that fucking sandwich.

The rocket engine ignites.

A deafening roar fills the launch bay.

Dusty: THIS IS FUCKING AWESOME!

Kevin: THIS IS A NIGHTMARE!

Gina: EVERYBODY HOLD THE FUCK ON!

Bullet: I'M GONNA PUKE!

The rocket blasts off, tearing through the fortress roof in a shower of sparks and debris.

Rork stands in the courtyard, staring up at the sky as the rocket disappears into the clouds.

Rork: My career is over.

Vek: Your career was over when you abducted the dog.

Rork: I FUCKING KNOW THAT NOW!

The supreme commander emerges from the fortress.

Dravik: Private Rork!

Rork: Yes, sir?

Dravik: You're promoted.

Rork's face lights up.

Rork: Really?!

Dravik: To latrine supervisor.

Rork: NOOOOOOOOOOO!

EXT. AMERICAN COASTLINE — DAY

The rocket capsule descends toward the American coastline.

Professor Vyne steers the emergency landing system toward a remote government airfield.

Professor Vyne: We should be landing in American territory within minutes.

Kevin: I'm never complaining about traffic again.

Randall: You're absolutely going to complain about traffic again.

Kevin: Yes, but now I'll have perspective.

Gina: We were kidnapped, interrogated, nearly executed, and launched into space in a machine built by a government chemist who can't even keep his girlfriend informed about his job.

Professor Vyne: Technically, we never entered space.

Stanley: Don't ruin the fucking moment with facts.

Dusty: I want to do it again!

EVERYONE: NO!

The capsule lands in a field with a tremendous crash, skids across the grass, and finally stops beside a highway.

The door opens.

Everyone crawls out, covered in soot.

Bullet: I need a bath.

Gina: You need a psychiatrist.

Bullet: I need a psychiatrist who gives baths.

An American military jeep arrives.

Several soldiers rush over.

Soldier: Identify yourselves!

Randall: Paradise Police Department!

Soldier: You were reported missing!

Kevin: We were abducted by a foreign military and forced to participate in a rocket-fuel operation.

Soldier: ...What?

Stanley: It was like Top Gun, except nobody was hot and we all smelled like a barbecue.

Dusty: I'm going on a tour.

Soldier: Of what?

Dusty: America.

Dusty walks toward the road.

Randall: Dusty! Get back here!

Dusty: I'M BACK!

He walks directly into a roadside sign.

Dusty: America hurts.

INT. MAVIS'S HOUSE — KITCHEN — EVENING

Later that evening, everyone returns to Mavis's house.

The new carpet has been destroyed, the front window is broken, and the ceiling has a rocket-shaped hole in it.

Mavis sits at the kitchen table with Professor Vyne.

Mavis: We need to talk.

Professor Vyne: Of course, darling.

Mavis: You lied to me about your work. You let my son get kidnapped by foreign spies. You were developing rocket fuel in my house without telling me. And I had to travel to a foreign military fortress to rescue my own family.

Professor Vyne: In fairness, I didn't know Randall had been abducted until you told me.

Mavis: THAT IS NOT FUCKING HELPING YOUR CASE!

Professor Vyne: Mavis, I care deeply about you.

Mavis: And I care deeply about my family. I want a boyfriend who doesn't turn my life into an episode of 24.

Professor Vyne: I understand.

Mavis: Do you?

Professor Vyne: Yes.

Mavis: Good. Because we're finished.

Professor Vyne looks down sadly.

Professor Vyne: I suppose I deserve that.

Mavis: You fucking do.

She stands up and points toward the door.

Mavis: Now get out of my house.

Professor Vyne picks up his briefcase and walks toward the door.

Professor Vyne: If you ever change your mind—

Mavis: I WON'T!

Professor Vyne: Right. Well, goodbye, Mavis.

He exits.

Randall walks into the kitchen, holding a beer.

Randall: So, you dumped the rocket guy?

Mavis: Yes.

Randall: Good. He was weird as fuck.

Mavis: Randall, you once tried to arrest a mannequin because you thought it was a drug dealer.

Randall: It was standing suspiciously.

Kevin: Mom, I think we should all take a vacation.

Gina: Somewhere peaceful. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere without international espionage.

Stanley: Monte Carlo?

Gina: That's the opposite of peaceful.

Stanley: But they have buffets.

Dusty: What about Armenia?

Everyone freezes.

Randall: Dusty, if you ever say that country again, I'm going to throw you through the nearest fucking window.

Dusty: I'm going on a tour.

Kevin: I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL HIM!

Kevin lunges at Dusty.

Dusty runs into the living room, trips over the carpet, and crashes headfirst into the couch.

Bullet: HA! THE CARPET FINALLY GOT ITS FUCKING REVENGE!

Mavis: EVERYONE GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!

Everyone runs outside except Stanley, who quietly takes a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom.

Mavis: STANLEY!

Stanley: What? It's a souvenir!

He sprints through the door.

The camera pulls back from the house as Mavis slams the door shut.

Patrick Stewart (V.O.): And so, the Paradise Police Department returned home, having narrowly escaped a foreign prison, accidentally launched themselves across the ocean, and ruined a perfectly good carpet. Professor Vyne went back to government research, Captain-turned-Private Rork spent the next month cleaning toilets, and Dusty was permanently banned from every window in Paradise.

CUT TO:

Dusty standing beside a second-story window.

Dusty: I bet I can make it.

He climbs onto the windowsill.

Randall: DUSTY, NO!

Dusty falls out of frame.

Dusty: I'M BACK!

THE END.