01x14 - Curse of the Man-Beast; It Came From Level Z

[bunniefuu]

♪ 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 ♪

♪ Monsters vs. Aliens ♪

♪ Monsters vs. Aliens ♪

♪ MVA ♪

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 -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, 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
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:

% lunar minerals, % 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 % 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!
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!

[font color="red"] sync & correction by f nc
~ addic ed.com ~ [/font]

- 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 b*at 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.

sh**t. 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 '

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!