01x22 - This Ball Must Be Dodged; It Spoke With Authority

[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 ♪

It is incoming, it is on fire,

and it feels
neither remorse nor mercy.

It is Dodge Ball,

and so help me, I do love it.
Whoo, ha!

Throw your ball, don't get hit,
anything else goes.

- Anything goes, you say?
- No rules.

Just-a the way-a
I like it.

Hope you wanted some big, red,

Dodge-Ball-shaped
tattoos on your butt.

Oh, ho.
That sounds awesome.

- We should get those.
- Question: If we're gonna play

Monsters vs. Aliens Dodge Ball,
shouldn't there be a ball?

What? I put out three balls
before I even called you in here.

- Where did...
- Commence treachery!

[Grunting]

- Dodge.
- Hey.

You can't just... we
hadn't even started yet.

We were very efficient.
I drew pictures.

- Anything goes.
- That is indeed the name of the game.

- Link, B.O.B., Doctor, you're out.
- Butt tattoo time.

Wait, I'm low priority?
I'm the stinking team leader.

[Grunting]
Oh, no, you...

Ah! Oof!

- [Grunts] Dang.
- Nothing personal, Susan.

We simply took out
the real threats first.

Smartest...

Guilty.
Strongest...

- You got that right, toes.
- And most unpredictable.

Dodge.

Your only power is to make
yourself an even bigger target.

Of course you'd be the last to pick off.

Last pick.

For our Dodge Ball team's last pick,
we'll take the practice dummy.

What?
But it can't even dodge.

That makes two of you.
Ha, ha!

[Laughter]

Elementary school recess.
I've been last pick before.

- It made me angry.
- Yes, well, that's fascinating.

We're going to throw balls at you now.

But you know what
I did with that anger?

I learned to play the
heck out of Dodge Ball!

[Grunts]

[Shouts]
[grunting]

- Wow.
- Cheater. I call cheater!

- Takes one to know one.
- Precisely. I should know.

She left the rampage room.
Surely that is out-of-bounds.

- Anything goes. [Chuckles]
- Let the hunt begin.

[Shouts]

Vornicarn, come, we must
deliver a flaming ball of pain.

I wouldn't get too worked up.

She's all by her lonesome
with no Dodge Ball.

[Laughs]

Laugh it up, bread-head.
Storm's a-comin'.

% chance of Dodge Ball,
and you ain't got an umbrella.

Uh, Suze?

It's really freaky when you
talk in the walls like that.

- Sorry.
- Need any help? Enemy intel?

- Misinformation? Trash talk?
- I've been practicing my insults.

Hey, is that a ham,
or did your face just...

Wait, it's probably just a ham.
Are you holding a ham?

Ah, he was just holding a ham.

We may be eliminated,
but we are still your teammates.

Right now, I don't have teammates.
I have a mission.

- And this time, it's personal.
- Bye, Susan!

Play safe.
We'll save you some ham.

Ball at the ready, Sqweep?
At the ready.

There she is! Fire!

[Grunts]

- Deepest apologies.
- Yes, yes.

My mistake... there she is!

[Grunts]

Yet again, we are very
sorry for this mistake.

I can't help it if all
Earth females look ali...

There she is!

[Grunts] Ow.
Henry ain't a lady.

And that is why we do not strike

until we have a confirmed
target, Vornicarn.

[Growls]
Huh? Vornicarn?

[Growls]

[Grunts]

[Screams]

Vornicarn!

[All gasp]

[Groans]

What's going...

[Chuckles]

Sorry, it's just...
it's kind of hilarious.

"Now, I have a Dodge Ball.
Ha, ha, ha."

- Way to go, Susan.
- One down, three to go.

You have no way of
proving this was Susan.

Uh, perhaps it was an
industrial accident.

[Grunts]
"Sincerely, Susan.

'Heart.' P.S. You're next."

Vornicarn, you're out.

[Grunts]
Heh.

Someone insulted the wrong lady.

[Screams]

[Grunting]

Susan.
Heed the squaring of Sta'abi.

This ball will taste the flesh

- of your soft Earth belly.
- Nuh-uh.

I know. Wall talkin'.
Totally freaky, right?

[Grunts]

[Growls]

[Grunting]

[Panting]

Ha!

Ah!

[Gasps]
Ha.

[Grunts]
Not a lady!

[Gasps]

Ooh.

[Grunts]

[Tense music]

♪ Wow, wow, whoa ♪

[Both grunt]

[Both scream]

[Both shouting in slow motion]

Ah!
[Grunting]

Hm. The target is wounded.
Good.

Tuesday, I make the borsch.

[Grunts]

[Screams]

[Shouting in slow motion]

My borsch.

[Grunts]

Sta'abi, you're out.

[Snickers]
I love my Dodge Ball.

- Ooh.
- I'm coming for you, Coverton.

And Dodge Ball's coming with me.

- Huh?
- Oh, dear.

Guess who's got all the
spherical projectile again.

In your face, Susan.

[Grunts]

[Grunts, sighs]

Do-over?
[Growls]

- Oh!
- I believe we are losing now.

Unacceptable.
I refuse to be defeated

by one human woman
with a simple rubber orb.

- Ooh. Devious idea alert.
- Proceed.

Surely, a child genius like you
could find some way

- to weaponize these Dodge Balls. Hm?
- That sounds dangerous.

Well, then I suppose
we'll just have to admit

- she's outsmarted us.
- I am on it.

We really should do a full lab test
before taking these into the field.

No time.
She could be anywhere.

- Whoo!
- Ah! [Grunting]

Ah, Susan.

I see you've met our
first modified Dodge Ball,

A human-seeking m*ssile
I call "bash-Susan hunter."

[Laughs]

[Grunts]
Oh, look.

And here's his twin
brother Zippy Fast-o.

- Ah!
- Increased acceleration

with each impact.
Not even you can dodge it forever.

Ah! [Grunts]
[Laughs]

[Grunts]

[Laughs]

No!

I forfeit.

Ah! Dodge.

- I don't play for forfeits.
- Sqweep, you're out.

Nicely aimed, Susan.
- I aim to make you hurt.

Uh, uh, uh, uh.
Not so fast, Susan.

You're still holding
my ultimate backup plan.

I call him "Boom, boom, wah!
[Mimics expl*si*n] Bye, bye."

If you throw that ball,
the ensuing expl*si*n

will vaporize everything
within a -mile radius.

Coverton, you maniac.

Oh, calm your antennae.
She's not going to throw it.

She has no choice but to give up
and declare me the winner.

[Laughs]
Isn't that right, Susan?

Boom.
[Screams]

Wait a minute.

When did we go from crazy
awesome to crazy crazy?

[Groaning, screaming]

[Whimpering]

I surrender! You win!

It's not worth exploding over.

I told you...
I don't play for forfeits.

Back it down, Ginormica.
That is an order.

Try and stop me.

[Grunts]

Curse your expertly
honed dodging skills.

[Grunting]

Susan, I know you
think this will heal

the trauma of being last pick.

But will it?
Will it really?

- Yes.
- Wow!

That's great. You go
right ahead then, sister.

Stop her, you mindless goo-bag!

[Grunts in slow motion]

[Screams in slow motion]

- Who's last pick now, chump?
- Coverton, you're out!

Victory, Team Monster,
but mostly Susan.

What? But...
but she can't do that.

That was an eyeball.

Anything goes.
[Mimics record scratching]

[Belches]

Sorry, B.O.B.
I needed a loaner.

- Forgive me?
- You monster.

[Grunts]
Wait, sorry.

Mixing up words again.
You the monster.

Yeah. Go, Susan.

[Beethoven's symphony No.
playing]

[Humming]

[Grunts] La cucaracha is down.
Secure the area.

Area secured.
Send in whiner baby.

Guys, I told you I
hate that code name.

Excuse me,
but could someone explain

why my lower thorax is being crushed?

- Sorry.
- Leave us.

You heard whiner baby.
Roll out.

Nobody respects my authority.

An odd statement, Mr. President,
considering you are...

well, you are the President.

[Grunts]
It doesn't mean what it used to.

Do you know what my typical day is like?

Listen up, Mr. Speaker.

It's my way or the... hello?
[Dial tone]

- Margaret, coffee.
- Not my job, sir.

- Get your own.
- No, Ike... no, outside.

[Dog barking] Oh.

Bad dog. Very bad dog.

- Margaret!
- Pick it up yourself, sir.

[Sighs]

Nobody pays attention to me.

- Wha... were you saying something?
- Doctor, this is a crisis.

I need to ask the country
to make some hard sacrifices,

and I'm just not authoritative enough.

Give me some authority.
Make people do what I say.

[Laughs evilly]

Anybody see my mePod?
I can't remember where I plugged it in.

- Shh-shh. President is talking.
- So, my fellow Americans,

today, I am asking you
to cut back on the french fries.

Seriously, you really don't
need them with every meal.

- Yes, sir.
- This is weird.

Usually, the President's speech
is just so boring, I... [snores]

[Grunts]
Sorry, I fell asleep

- just thinking about them.
- I know.

But this time, there was
something about the President,

like... like he exuded this... this...

- Authority?
- Yes, exactly.

I wanted to do whatever he said.

[Laughs evilly] Dr. C?
You're laughing in an

I-did-something-mad-science-y
kind of way.

I may have helped
the President a wee bit.

- Uh-oh.
- You see, I gave him The air of authority.

[Laughs]

The air of authority?

A delicate cologne with
hints of sandalwood spice

and the ability to make
everyone do exactly what you say.

- You didn't.
- I did.

But worry not, Susan, the
effect lasts but a few hours.

I swear, am I the
only person around here

- with any sense of responsibility?
- What? [Grunts]

Nobody should have
that kind of power!

- It's too dangerous.
- But, Susan...

You know I'm right.
Lock that authority stuff up for good.

If it fell into the wrong hands,
who knows what could happen?

Oh, I have a few ideas.
[Laughs]

Um, hello?

Your shrink ray stinks.

[Snoring]

- Hush mode.
- Activating hush mode!

Now!
[Screams]

- [Grunts] What?
- Shh.

[Snores]

At last. The air of authority.

- Yo, Coverton.
- Oh, no. B.O.B.!

Uh, have you seen my mePod?
I plugged it in somewhere.

I just can't remember where.

Oh, hey, check it.
I'm like a firefly's butt.

[Laughs]

What's all the noise?
Coverton, what are you doing here?

You were up to something sneaky.
You got that sneaky look on your face...

- Mm.
- And your feet.

See it? Sneaky.
[Gasps]

- The air of authority is missing.
- You weaselly hover jerk.

No, no, no, no.
No, I was just doing something

extremely innocent that I will
think of if you give me a moment.

Guys, based on absolutely nothing,

- I feel we should believe Coverton.
- I... you do?

Gee, B.O.B., now that you say it,
I think you're right.

- Really?
- Yeah.

My first instinct was to launch
Coverton back into space with

my twin booster rockets,
sha-bing and sha-bang. Mwah.

But then, I listened
to what B.O.B. had to say

and realized...
"wow, I need to learn to trust."

B.O.B. is after all the authority
on the subject of Coverton.

- And really all subjects, right?
- Oh, yeah. Totally.

Wait.
Is the air of authority affecting me?

[Sniffing]

- B.O.B., tell us to do something.
- Okay. Make funny noises.

[Susan, Link, and Doc
make funny noises]

- Oh, fascinating.
- You know what else is fascinating?

Cake.

- Me likey cake.
- Yes!

I'm enthralled by
frosted baked goods.

I also like hats.

Hey, wouldn't it be great
if there were cake hats?

- [Gasps] Let's go make some.
- Genius.

Mm, not at all what I had planned,
but it'll work.

[Upbeat music]

What the ding-dong-diddly
are you people doing?

- The conga.
- And just why are you

wasting taxpayer dollars
on cake hats and latin dance?

- B.O.B. told us to.
- I did.

Sounds like a fine idea to me.

[Cheering]

I don't know why I'm not affected.

My genetically superior
telekinetic brain, I suppose.

[Chuckles]

Mm, point is they're all listening

to the idiot, and the idiot
listens to me.

I can't think of a better opportunity
to bring Earth to its knees.

[Screams]

Coverton down!

Both: Hug.

Come on. Bring it in.

All: Hug.

I love hug time.

B.O.B., check it out.
I painted a flower just like you said.

Susan, that's nice.
I want to acknowledge the effort,

but when I said you
should paint flowers,

I meant you should paint flowers.

- See?
- And now, Coverton strikes.

Here's a hug.
[Grunts]

[Shouts]
[Grunts]

Ooh, say, B.O.B.
You know what goes great with cake?

Ice cream.

Might I suggest an ice cream
social in the mess hall?

Hm, I mean, yeah, the
whole ice cream social thing

is kind of old-timey, but let me
put my special B.O.B. spin on this.

Hey, everybody.
B.O.B. here.

Meet at the mess hall at
oh-right-now-hundred hours

for a fish and sour cream social.

All: Yay!
[Overlapping chatter]

- You coming, buddy?
- I'll be along momentarily, buddy.

Sometimes, it's just too easy.

And now, for my favorite tune,
"power core meltdown."

Ah, ha!

[Alarm blaring]

Warning: Power core
has become unstable.

T-minus minutes to
catastrophic implosion.

That could burn a hole right
through the Earth's crust.

- And destroy all life on your planet.
- What should we do, B.O.B.?

I say we pretend it's not happening
and hope it goes away.

All: Yay!

[Laughs evilly]

T-minus minutes to catastrophic implosion.

Not for Coverton.
Buh-bye, Earth.

[Laughs evilly]

Escape pod, activate.
Initiate launch sequence.

Oh, and for my in-flight
meal, let's go with a goblet

of blatoxinal juice
and seared gurgle beast.

[Grunts]
Computer: Unable to comply.

What?
Is the gurgle beast not fresh?

No power. Shutting down.

How can it not have power?
I always keep it plugged in.

"Charging mePod.
Doo not un-ploog."

B.O.B.!

Warning: T-minus minutes
to catastrophic implosion.

Ah!

[Screaming]

Floog-nog!
It's not working.

Someone is going to have to actually go

into the core and
re-route the power coils.

And that someone has to be...

Dr. Cockroach, you must save us.

Sorry, B.O.B. Told me to
pretend it's not happening

and hope it goes away.
A most sensible plan.

You, prehistoric fish-man.
Surely, you will save us.

Who am I going to listen to?
My authoritative blue bud or you?

Dude, you're not even
wearing a cake hat.

B.O.B., please, I beg you,
tell them to fix the power core.

Coverton, buddy, you look tense.

- Dig in.
- Mm.

It does look rather tasty...

No! Must save Coverton!
[Cries]

Warning. T-Minus minutes
to catastrophic implosion.

Oh, that doesn't look fun at all.

[Gasps]

Oh.
[Grunts]

T-minus minutes
to catastrophic implosion.

[Grunting]

[Screaming]

- It burns!
- Here's another thought I had.

[High-pitched]
What if we all talk like this?

[High-pitched]
Well, that's a good idea, B.O.B.,

but...
[coughs, clears throat]

[Normal voice]
I can't do it.

Don't hate, everybody,
but seems kinda dumb?

- No offense, B.O.B.
- Oh, none taken.

All right, since
we're speaking our minds,

I've been getting crumbs
in my hair all day,

and it's starting to make me crazy.

Guys, well, why
didn't you say so before?

Well, you seemed so
authoritative and...

[Gasps]
It was the air of authority!

Thank goodness the
effects are only temporary.

The air of what now?
Doctor, was I prancing and hugging

and wearing a dumb cake on my noggin

'cause of some lame-brained
invention of yours?

Well, I don't know if you'd call a
high-end fragrance an invention, but...

Warning: T-minus minute
to catastrophic implosion.

This is not our top
concern at the moment.

Someone needs to get into
the core and re-route...

- Never mind.
- My toes.

- My precious toes.
- Someone's already doing it.

Catastrophic implosion
in , , , ...

Catastrophic implosion averted.

So tender.
So very, very raw.

- Coverton.
- All this time, I thought you wanted

to destroy the Earth, and
here you are saving it.

- Way to go.
- Up high, alien guy.

- Well done, sir.
- All right.

[Screams, groans]