Previously on Velma…
- I like you.
- That's hilarious.
Wait. Norville.
Your joke worked, you genius!
Keep making me laugh.
No, Velma, wait!
I'm here because I want you.
That book you gave me opened
my eyes to your inner beauty.
Hey, watch where you're going.
- Gigi?
- Hi.
Norville, I've definitely
been here before.
I feel like all the answers to my
questions about my parents are in there.
The bathrooms?
Wait. I mean in there.
Okay, so you know that thing
when you text your friends
and they don't text you back,
so it feels like you're gonna die?
Well, if my friend didn't text me back,
I actually was going to die.
Because Norville
was ghosting me,
and my hallucinations
had gotten so bad,
I couldn't even look at my m*rder
board without having one.
Sure, Daphne could have
helped me find my mom.
But when I was with her,
the only mystery I wanted to solve
was the case of the missing inhibitions.
Dad, I need a ride to school.
Norville's MIA, and my walking pace
attracts vultures.
Sorry, no time. Baby's coming home
tomorrow so I need to clean
before heading to the hospital
for Sophie's postpartum photoshoot
with the nursing staff.
I'm gonna be there all night.
Hold up. You're leaving me home alone
with a m*rder*r on the loose?
Even though I was voted most likely
to be m*rder*d before any of this?
You won't be alone, Velma.
You have the marching band sleepover
in the school gym tonight.
The marching band sleepover?
Norville really has abandoned me
at my lowest moment.
This sleepover's gonna be so tight.
Wait until you see
how much pizza I eat.
I can eat three slices.
Hey, sorry to interrupt,
but have you seen Norville?
Tall, blue eyes, maybe?
Good morning, students.
This is Principal Rogers.
I'm here with Mayor Dave
and the Sheriff.
Everybody, listen up!
We just learned someone
somewhere is being intolerant.
Jesus, Ed.
Just say your thing
before they stop listening.
Hello, students. This is your
cool mayor, Mayor Dave.
So, since assigning personal police
details to the hottest of you,
we've been getting a little push back
on the police presence in school.
But fun twist!
It's from the police.
I just rear ended a cop.
In fact, the officers on detail
have all resigned,
citing unrelenting
sexual harassment.
Now, in place of
the police details,
we'll now be instituting
a citywide curfew
at : p.m. tonight,
for everyone.
You're caught outside,
you'll spend the night in jail.
Be warned. Our deputy is working
on his stand up set.
This also means several school events
will be canceled, including…
Band sleep over!
…the track meet,
the Parent's Association's
Find the Asbestos Service night
and the marching band
sleepover.
Yes!
Okay, baby Daphne.
I'm going to the Crystal Mines,
and I'm not coming back
until I figure out who I am
and where I come from.
Or six. Our moms are home by six,
so I'll be back before then.
Sorry, sign, but hot people are cut
too much slack to heed warnings.
That's fine.
Bats are just flying rats.
Ground bats, yuck!
Hey, Fred!
Have you seen Norville?
I need him to help me investigate.
No, but I have found a way
to make you like me. Check it out.
And as if this isn't enough,
I will also win your heart
by proving
I am a helpful ally, sister.
Look, I'm glad reading The Feminine
Mystique caused a little growth.
Shush, a feminist is speaking,
and he listened to your theory
about your mom
going missing at his house
and actually found something.
Wait, you did?
This isn't just you thinking I'm related
to your nanny again, is it?
No. There were some papers
in Father's special drawer,
where he keeps his men's
work out magazines.
Turns out,
our house used to be owned
by a woman
named Dr. Edna Perdue.
Dr. Edna Perdue
was a female neurologist.
You don't need to say female, Velma.
You can just say neurologist.
She d*ed in the Crystal Cove
insane asylum,
after conducting ethically
dubious experiments?
Fred, your house
was owned by a mad scientist.
Now I have to find Norville.
He's probably tangling retainers
with his girlfriend.
Girlfriend?
Norville!
You have a girlfriend?
- No.
- And your girlfriend is Gigi?
Damn, this makes me think
I could bag Don Lemon.
How did this happen?
I thought you were missing.
It's all thanks to you, Velma.
I always thought
I was just regular hot,
but you gave me the confidence
to be artsy hot.
So you're not mad, Velma?
Sometimes it's unclear
until I'm sitting on a thumb tack.
Mad? No, I'm so excited.
Now you have Gigi to talk about boring
stuff like your swords and feelings.
So, when we're together,
we can focus solely on finding my mom.
- Speaking of, Fred's house…
- Stop, Velma.
Gigi and I have decided that maybe
I should spend less time with you.
Less time? But I only see you
when I need you as is.
Sorry, Velma. Until Norville learns
to stand up for himself,
he's gonna do exactly as I say.
I see.
Fine, great.
No sweat off my under boob.
It's not like I need him.
Fred can help me not hallucinate
by making me laugh.
Velma, give me the chance
and I can help you with anything.
Well, except filling in your ethnicity
on a form.
I'm guessing Samoan?
Who are you?
We're your parents, Daphne.
My parents?
Why are you so hairy?
Wait, are you Brooklyn guys?
Sorry.
We should have explained
that these are costumes.
We need to hide our identity
until we can trust you.
Until you can trust me?
I'm not the one dressed like something
pulled out of the shower drain.
Also, if you even are my parents,
you abandoned me.
You weren't abandoned, Daphne.
- Your moms stole you from us.
- What? No, they didn't.
They found me wrapped in a blanket
in the middle of a cornfield.
Okay.
But if you don't believe
we're your parents,
look up the Crystal Mines g*ng
on Netscape Navigator.
Netscape Navigator? Good Lord!
How long have you been in here?
Hello? Hello.
Did you really just do an Irish exit?
Maybe we are related.
Remember, tonight's curfew
is at p.m.,
and The Bachelor's
brilliant finale is at : .
So, no messing around!
We're going
to the Hysterical Society?
Then why would you need my help
making you laugh?
It's Historical Society.
Places like this helped Skip Gates
learn which white actors are
descended from sl*ve owners.
If there's any record
of Dr. Perdue, it'll be here.
So, you're friends
with our favorite docent, Norville.
We're so happy he's found Gigi,
especially after wasting years
pining for that bossy one.
What was her name?
Meatball?
I actually heard Meatball
was really cool and beautiful.
Well, all we have
are Dr. Perdue's old journals.
This is the one place she felt
no one would ever find them.
. % of our visitors are
people looking for a bathroom.
The journals are missing.
Well, the last person
to look at them was…
- Diya Dinkley.
- What?
My mom was researching
a mad scientist?
And then disappeared
at her house? Why?
Oh, God!
Fred, I'm hallucinating!
Quick, make me laugh
like Norville would have.
I would. But all I can think
of right now is the gender pay gap.
Is it funny?
Women make % less than men.
And women of color even less.
I can't stop laughing.
Does anyone have a defibrillator?
Stop, you could lose a finger.
You helping me isn't working.
I need Norville back.
- I literally just d*ed without him.
- Well, almost d*ed.
Still, if I can separate reality dating
shows' exploitation of women
from my obsessive need
to watch them,
I can separate
Gigi from Norville.
I have no choice
but to lure him
to the one place
no girlfriend would ever go.
Let me guess. Cigar lounge.
His dad's woodshop.
- World w*r II museum?
- No.
My dad and stepmom
are out of the house tonight,
so I'm gonna host
a little get together.
Looks like the marching band
sleepover just got uncanceled.
May God have mercy on my soul.
Okay, remember
to take your pill with food,
and absolutely no getting m*rder*d
after curfew, young lady.
Band members only. You got ID?
Okay, listen up, nerds.
We gotta keep it tidy.
My dad's girlfriend
is a total OCD SOB.
And she's bringing
a baby home tomorrow.
If any of youse need to empty
your spit valves, do it in this.
Was there anything else, Sophie?
Yeah, a lot, actually.
Right. Don't break anything.
Sophie will have a heart att*ck and die.
And then I'd have to help with the baby
until we find a nanny.
Velma!
- What was that?
- Nothing, bye.
- Fred, you're not allowed in here.
- I know, I know. I'm not in band.
Thank God.
I'd rather kiss a toilet.
But speaking
of kissing toilets,
I still wanna win your heart
by helping you.
Fred, I gave you a chance.
I d*ed. Hey, don't eat that!
That's baking soda,
you filthy animal!
But you don't have any food.
And a marching band sleepover
without food
is like a theater sleepover
without horny undertones.
- Crap! I forgot to order pizzas.
- On it.
Your friends will remember this as
the best marching band sleepover ever.
Move it, loser.
The Crystal Mines g*ng
was comprised
of former employees
of the Crystal Mines Mining Experience,
who banded together when
the mines shuttered in the early ' s.
Mine's closed.
Everyone's fired.
The g*ng of newly unemployed
workers stayed behind,
using the mine's old tour boats
to travel beneath
the streets of Crystal Cove,
conducting robberies
for years, undetected.
By the time Detectives Linda
and Donna Blake
brought the g*ng to justice,
it had grown to members,
including one infant.
Oh, my God!
Genetically, I'm a villain.
No wonder I'm attracted to a girl
who looks like a little henchman.
Why are you dropping me off here?
Velma's house is a block away.
No, I don't want to be seen
near your band friends.
As principal, I have a reputation
to uphold. You understand, right?
Totally. I could stay home
for curfew if that's easier.
Night to ourselves!
Time to get freaky!
- Band members only, Red.
- But I need to talk to Velma.
Hey, have you guys
never seen a girl before?
You're pitching tents like
I'm launching a sneaker line.
- Daphne?
- Velma, I may have found my real…
You haven't seen Norville,
have you?
He's like the only dork in town,
not inside my house.
- No, but…
- Trumpet!
Do not use that plunger as a mute.
That's how Ebola happened.
Velma, wait.
Norville! You're not gonna believe this,
but I may have found my birth parents.
No way. Tell me every detail.
Sorry, I just need to borrow this guy
for one second.
Okay, Norville. I understand
that for some reason,
you've chosen Gigi, a beautiful girl
who puts out, over your angry friend.
But I have a clue about my mom,
and I can't research it without you.
Please.
- I guess I can help with one clue.
- Thank you.
But make it fast.
It sounds like Gigi just got here.
Gigi?
Stop. What the hell
are you doing here, Gigi?
Hot girls aren't in band.
They're in choir.
I know, but Norville made band sound
so fun, I didn't wanna miss out.
So, one call to
the registrar and voila!
It's pronounced viola, you idiot,
and that's an orchestra thing.
I know that. Let me guess.
You play bassoon.
How dare you?
I'm a flutatist.
Interesting. So am I.
So how about
we have a little flute-off?
If I win, I stay.
And if I win, Norville does
whatever I say, forever.
- Do I get to weigh in?
- No!
Flute, flute, flute!
So good, babe,
I support you.
Everybody duck. There's about
to be a drive-by fluting.
Should we stop them? Devon just
unplugged his cochlear implants.
- We survived!
- Totally flute battle ever!
Gigi wins!
Hey.
Just checking in on the pizza.
Do we have an ETA
on when we can E-A-T?
I do. In two seconds,
you're gonna eat my fist.
But I need to take a pill with food.
- Me, too.
- Me, too.
I'm sorry. I hate to do this,
but I'm trying to impress
a very smart,
very stout young woman.
So, when I say quadruple meat,
I mean quadruple meat.
Make them again! Untie those
garlic knots. She likes breadsticks.
- Can I help you?
- Look, let's cut the crap.
Norville was mine
way before he was yours,
so I'm only gonna say this once.
Please, let Norville help me.
I need him. Please.
Hey, Daph. Since curfew
has us stuck inside all night,
you wanna set up
the old silk screener?
Maybe throw some vacation photos
on the tote bag?
Actually, I was hoping we could talk
about the story of my adoption.
What's to talk about?
It's like we've always said.
We found you wrapped in a blanket
in the middle of a cornfield.
Right. So I was just
lying on the ground or…
No. You were in a crater.
You know, the way
you're talking in unison
makes this feel
kind of rehearsed.
It's not rehearsed, sweetie.
This is the true story of your adoption.
So my origin
is the exact same as Superman?
We don't know who that is.
Look, I'm simply
proposing we share Norville.
I get him Monday, Wednesday, Friday,
and whenever I have a casual whim.
Velma, Norville isn't something
you share like a sandwich.
Who shares a sandwich?
Do you even know what's going on
with his family right now?
What? Are their matching
Christmas pajamas on back order?
Yes! But also… Sorry.
I promised Norville that I wouldn't
talk about it with you.
With me?
- But Norville tells me everything.
- I have to go.
Norville would be mad
if you even knew I knew. Bye!
Wait. That!
- No, I know about that.
- Wait.
You do? He told you?
He did. And honestly,
I'm shocked he told you, given…
- Given what?
- You know. Your… you know.
Are you sure we're talking about
the same thing?
I haven't been this positive
since my scoliosis test,
but the only way
to know for sure
is if we say it
at exactly the same time.
Well, that seems smart.
Dr. Edna Perdue
is your grandmother?
You know my mom went missing
when she was researching her house.
Gigi, I swore you to secrecy.
You placed your hand on your verified
checkmark and everything.
How could you tell Gigi and not me?
You tell me everything.
- I don't always listen, but still.
- I can't talk about this.
I never should have trusted
either of you.
Norville.
Oh, my God, Velma, I did it.
For the first time in my life,
I didn't bungle a task so badly
that it needs to be covered up
by an Israeli security firm.
It's okay. This is just what they call
Detroit style pizza.
Curfew time! Last one inside
is a person of interest.
And now it's basically Dominoes.
I tried, but only got halfway there.
That's just me living up
to my label as a male feminist.
Curfew started and you're stuck here
all night, Norville. So spill it.
How is my mom's disappearance
related to your grandma?
I can't talk about it.
I just learned about it
a few days ago,
and the truth
could ruin my mom's life.
Your mom's a high school principal
married to a guidance counselor.
It can't get more ruined than that.
What the hell!
I told you not to mess up my house.
I'll be disowned and I'm too old
and mouthy to be adopted.
This is what happens
when we don't take our pills.
We gotta feed these nerds now
or my house will be destroyed.
Wait, I found a bag of salad.
Velma, don't.
These are band nerds. They subsist
on energy drinks and chips.
You give them something green,
they could die.
If it has to be unhealthy,
then what about Spooners?
The health inspector called it "I quit".
That could work, but no one's
allowed outside right now.
I am the mayor.
Except for cops.
- Fred, you're a genius.
- Yes, I've finally helped you.
So, are you into me now or what?
We could take Daphne's moms' cop car
to Spooners to get food there.
Unfortunately, I don't drive.
And Fred doesn't drive,
and Gigi doesn't drive.
And Norville, in light of the recent
revelation that I take advantage of you,
I couldn't expect you
to do this for me.
It was almost a good idea.
Guess my house
will just get destroyed.
No.
- I'll do it.
- No, Norville!
I told you if you do any more
simping for her, we're through.
Gigi, I am not doing this
because I'm simping for Velma.
I'm doing this because
it's the right thing to do.
I'm simping for myself.
Yuck!
I just need someone to get the keys
to the car from Daphne.
Me? But I do
everything around here.
Join us.
Velma, finally!
You're literally the only person
I can talk to right now
and I'm freaking out.
Okay, it's okay. Calm down. I'm here,
and all I wanna do is help you.
- Really?
- Yes.
Immediately after you do me
a huge favor.
Thank you so much, Daphne.
Whatever's going on with you,
just put it in a text
and I promise I'll give it a thumbs up
by Monday at the earliest.
All right, let's get out of here.
Those roaches are not happy
we're stealing their homes.
Wait, hold on.
We need to go back.
- I wanna write an IOU for the food.
- There's no time! You'll get caught.
Sorry, I have no choice.
If we don't support a small business
owned by a woman of color, who will?
Wow, Norville.
You're not just
a better friend than I am,
you're a better person.
And I give homeless people
hella nickels.
I hear they're giving out
free Katy Perry tickets
to serial K*llers
over at the police station.
Sounds like a good deal.
You might wanna check it out.
Oh, God, what are we gonna do?
I can't go back to jail.
I still owe my cell mate
notes on his screenplay.
Don't worry, you guys head home.
I'll distract Sheriff Cogburn.
But, Velma, you could go to jail.
You'd hate it. They spend
an hour outdoors every day.
It's only for one night.
And you'd do it for me.
Thanks.
Just get out of here
before I change my mind.
Wait! I changed my mind.
Now I changed it back.
Go, quick.
Hey! Hey, you there!
- Hey, Cogburn.
- What the…
I'm out past curfew and I think
the movie Serpico is boring.
What are you gonna do about that?
Gotcha!
Principal Rogers?
Oh, my God, I have to post this.
What will it take for you
to not do that?
Hello! Welcome to the Crystal
Mines Mining Experience.
I'm Casey Kasem,
here to guide you through America's
th most popular mine.
- Oh, man.
- Oh, no. We're too late.
Rise and shine!
You're all free to go.
Since you didn't post that picture,
be in my office Monday morning.
I'll tell you everything I know
about my mom, Dr. Edna Perdue.
Great.
Welcome home, Amanda.
If you think the outside is clean
and tidy, you ain't seen nothing.
Isn't that right, Velma?
What?
That's so cute.
Don't worry,
Velma will clean it up.
Dear Velma, sorry the band made
such a mess.
Gigi wants you to know that Norville
did not clean your house for you.
Norville did, however, thr*aten
to shove our instruments up our butts
if we didn't clean it.
Musically yours, the marching band.
Velma, what the hell
happened to your teeth?
This first factoid goes out
to Jenny L. in…
Welcome home, Daphne.
I'm your mother, Caroll.
And I'm your father, Darren.
This is the Crystal Mines g*ng.
Yeah, sorry. I'd be lying if I said
you'll get used to that.