Previously on Velma…
No!
My hallucinations are finally over.
"Jinkies" is written
in your mother's handwriting.
She was just here.
He is the future CEO
of Jones Gentlemen's Accessories!
Is he, though?
I had to find you because I still didn't
know if you'd listened to my VMs,
voice mails,
let alone responded.
Gigi almost d*ed.
She was stung by a bee
and the nurse was
out of adrenaline sh*ts.
Your mom opened the lab and…
The ghost of Dr. Edna Perdue
has returned to finish her work!
So, at long last,
my hallucinations were cured.
Damn it! I was able to completely
focus on finding my mom
and the serial k*ller
who took her.
Come on. But first I had to figure out
why she'd left behind
the word "jinkies"
for me to find.
Since my mom wrote mysteries,
I started by reading
all her old manuscripts
looking for the answer.
But the only thing I found in them
was a cure for my insomnia.
Then I thought it might be the serial
k*ller's license plate number.
But it wasn't
his license plate,
nor was it JiNKiES,
the party clown,
who'd fallen off the radar
awhile back.
Jinkies! The clown!
- Velma, I have to talk to you.
- Not now, sorry.
But wherever I looked, it was just dead
end after dead end after dead end.
Oh, God! Sophie! No!
There's a message
written on the wall, in her blood.
Oh, God, if she's dead,
who's gonna clean that up?
"Aman, will you go to the Crystal Cove
Fog Festival with me?"
- Gotcha!
- Demon! Back to hell with you!
- Velma! Stop! This was a fogposal.
- A fogposal?
You know, like a promposal,
but for Fog Fest.
Fog Fest?
You know, the one night a year
all of Crystal Cove comes out
to celebrate
its world famous spooky fog.
- And pick a Fog King and Queen.
- Celebrates?
It's a word meaning…
Are you having a stroke?
No. I know what fogposals
and Fog Fest are.
What I don't understand
is how it can still be happening
with a serial k*ller
on the loose.
What happened to curfew?
It was working.
Curfew is over! Because
it's not a serial k*ller,
it's the ghost of
Dr. Edna Perdue.
And curfew can't stop a ghost, Velma.
That's just basic physics.
Blythe went to the press?
But this is crazy.
People would rather
believe in a ghost,
than stay inside for a few nights
just so they can party?
What's that?
Look, you're not the only one
worried about curfew ending, Velma.
Which is why no girl
will be admitted to Fog Fest
without a date to protect them.
Smart, right?
Wait, girls have to have a date?
Great.
So Fog Fest is not only dangerous,
it's sexist, too.
Okay, well, at least I know the police
aren't buying this ghost crap.
Attention!
All of you wondering why the police
have not yet caught the serial k*ller,
it's because it's a ghost
and not because we're incompetent.
Now let's get ready to party!
But most of all, I owe the honor
of winning Fog King to my Fog Queen,
Velma Dinkley.
Velma? Is that a joke, Fred?
Or are you being serious?
Or is it that cable comedy thing
where it's both?
No, I'm serious. A girl-k*lling ghost
is living in our basement.
In the grand scheme of things,
who cares if I'm attracted to a nerd?
Fred, we have no issue with you
liking an intelligent woman.
Our problem is
you're going to take over
Jones Gentlemen's Accessories
someday,
and yet you seem to barely grasp
what it is we sell.
Not true. We sell ascots, cufflinks,
and for the ladies,
bags that make
other ladies feel poor.
No, Fred, we sell the best.
And Jones Gentlemen's Accessories
is sponsoring Fog Fest.
So, if you can't prove
you're the best
by being named Fog King,
how does that make us look?
Like assholes, Fred.
Like assholes.
You can't win with Velma.
So, either you find a way to come home
with that Fog King crown,
or do not come home at all!
Gigi, come on.
Norville was a bad boyfriend.
He ignored you when you almost d*ed
from a bee sting.
And his grandmother is % a ghost
who's k*lling our friends.
I know, but I still wanted him
to ask me to Fog Fest.
Guys, it's a serial k*ller,
not a ghost.
- Norville?
- Gigi, ghosts are scary.
But nothing's scarier than a world
where we're not together.
- Will you go to Fog Fest with me?
- What?
I'll have to think about it.
But if I say yes and the ghost
of your grandma steals my brain,
that's it, we are through.
I understand, boo.
- Get it?
- No.
But that's what I love about you.
Who am I kidding?
Of course I'll go to Fog Fest
with you.
Norville!
You're going to Fog Fest?
You can't actually believe this ghost BS
about your grandma, too.
You're a man of reason. You talked me
out of my flat earth phase.
Of course, I don't
believe in ghosts, Velma.
But I really hurt Gigi's feelings
by ignoring her calls,
and I will do anything
to make it right.
So, I need Fog Fest to happen.
And honestly, I think
you need Fog Fest, too.
What? No, I don't.
My anger is rooted solely
in this town's selfish desire to party
instead of stay inside
and stop a serial k*ller.
Velma, come on.
No one loves celebrating
all the crazy stuff that happens
in our fog more than you.
From entering the fog in one place
and coming out another,
to thinking you see a monster
in the fog
only to realize it's just someone
you know, holding something weird.
You even like how things can somehow
farcically switch places in the fog.
You've been working on that "jinkies"
clue for days.
The best thing you can do
is let off some steam.
And what is steam, if not hot fog?
I don't know. Maybe you're right.
But girls have to have a date to go.
And my bottom of the barrel
k*ll myself desperation date is taken.
I'm honored you'd think of me,
but why not just ask
who you always used to go with?
Hey, Daphne, can you believe
all this dumb ghost stuff?
Oh, God, it's another ghost!
The ghost of Velma.
Someone make it disappear
by trying to talk to it.
Yeah, I know I've been MIA,
but what…
- What the hell, Fred?
- Go to Fog Fest with me. Please.
Stop throwing money at my face.
You're supposed to scare me,
not hurt me.
No, Daphne. Fred's really asking me,
and I'm supposed to be scared
he's back into basic hot girls who work
out and wear non candy jewelry.
If only that were true,
my buttery little beach ball,
but I am asking Daphne.
- I have to be Fog King.
- Excuse me?
Wait, you said Fog King, not f…
In that case, I will happily
go with you, Fred.
- Yes!
- But, Daphne!
Are Fred and Daphne
are back together?
What does "jinkies" mean?
- Well, we're off to Fog Fest.
- Have fun.
I'll just be here, alone,
catching the serial k*ller.
It's a ghost. You know what?
I'm not gonna let you ruin my fun.
Daphne! Daphne!
- I see you ignoring me.
- Yeah, what's that like?
Wait, and now you're drinking?
That's uncharacteristic.
What's going on?
Wait. I forgot I also used my mom's
terrible manuscripts to k*ll spiders.
Detective Diya Jinkies held the note
in front of a candle flame,
and a secret message appeared.
"I ache for you, Detective Jinkies.
Love, Santa Claus."
Mom, gross!
Wait, that's it.
A phone number.
Hello?
Is this the serial k*ller?
You better not make a skin suit
out of my mom
just because brown don't cr*ck.
Damn it, he hung up.
Okay, Velma, what did you hear?
There was a crowd, a roller coaster,
and a foghorn.
Oh, my God, the serial k*ller
is at Fog Fest.
My queen.
Okay, girls can't go
to Fog Fest without a date,
so our only hope
of getting in, is makeup.
Like a lot. I'm talking
-year-old actress had an audition.
Single guy, you can enter.
Woman with a date, you can enter.
Next!
Evening, officers.
My name is Manny.
And as you can tell by my mustache,
I am a male human,
and not at all related
to Velma Dinkley.
Okay, sir, I don't need you
mansplaining who you are to me.
There's something
funny about you.
Not LOL funny, but more thoughtful
and well observed,
like a female driven comedy.
Are you suggesting
I am a woman dressed as a man?
Because if you are…
- Nut tap!
- Very good.
Only a true man would know
the joy and camaraderie
found in the surprise tapping
of another man's testicles.
And now, to find the serial k*ller.
- Nut tap!
- That is as*ault.
Where is he? Where is he?
Where is the serial k*ller?
Ring. Ring.
There he is!
Wait. Why aren't we
dropping and puking?
I see the serial k*ller!
It's a ghost, you idiot!
Also, sorry, my guy.
But I paid the carny
to keep us up here for a bit.
No, I have to get down now.
He's getting away.
Norville, what's going on?
Gigi, I have something
very important to ask you.
I told you no, I'm not wearing elf ears
when we make out.
No. Look, I am so sorry
I ignored your calls,
when you almost d*ed
from a bee sting.
I know how belittling it feels
to be sent to voicemail
by someone you like.
I'm talking about Velma.
- I used to really like her.
- I know.
Well, you deserve better than that.
So, I am here tonight to ask…
Gigi, will you be my Fog Queen?
No, I can't die! Sophie's gonna
put a treadmill in my room!
Hey, guys, I'm Fred Jones.
Vote for me for Fog King, or I will
make it my life's work to destroy you.
What?
Norville?
Where'd the serial k*ller go?
Who is that tasty snack?
Well, at least I seem to have scared
the serial k*ller away from Fog Fest.
Stop staring.
I know I'm eating like a caveman
in a natural history diorama,
but I'm having a bad night.
We're not disgusted.
We're impressed.
Can you teach me how to
unhinge my jaw like that?
I wanna join a sorority.
Impressed? But that's
such a double standard.
Every day at lunch, you're like,
"Hey, mayonnaise isn't soup."
We've never met before,
but I'm Olive.
As in O-live-to party.
Cool. Well, I gotta squirt.
Oh, my God, and you're hilarious.
Norville, what the hell is this?
You really think you can
b*at me for Fog King?
Yes, I do. You're gonna be
a big Fog King loser.
Guys! Since we're already
on the dance floor,
how about we settle this
the old-fashioned way?
Dance-off!
Those feel played out.
I was thinking a fight-off.
- It's like a dance-off, but with fists.
- I don't think that…
Norville, please! Being Fog Queen
isn't that important to me.
Gigi, stop!
You're only saying that
because you're so damaged
by being sent to voicemail
by Velma, I mean me,
that you don't think
you deserve a crown.
But I, I mean you
do deserve a crown.
Oh, my God, that was amazing.
Guys put zero pressure on you
to wash your hands.
Even though I didn't
catch the serial k*ller,
at least tonight's
not a total loss.
Who are you?
Manny, the man, Jonas.
- You remind me of my friend, Velma.
- Wait, so we are still friends?
- What?
- Nothing.
Well, I like this song,
and my date is rolling around
on the ground with another guy.
- Care to dance, mysterious Manny?
- I'm a terrible dancer.
My body is really only built
to ram things.
Don't care, we're dancing.
Oh, my God, Manny.
It's so cute when guys pretend
dancing is lame and half-ass it.
You don't find it annoying?
You've clearly studied dance
for years,
and yet any bozo can take over
a dance floor just by doing the worm.
What's that?
You're gonna do the worm?
- Hell, yes, you are!
- No, I'm not doing the worm.
I'm not even allowed to do it
without a note from my doctor.
Worm, worm, worm!
Yes, finally!
Wait! As a guy, everyone thinks my
worst qualities as a girl are awesome.
Nut tap!
We're impressed.
Yeah!
That's it! I know how
to convince everyone
there's still a serial k*ller
on the loose.
Everyone.
I have something to say.
As a man
speaking authoritatively,
you're going to listen to me
and you're going to believe me.
Ghosts are not real.
Look, I know that as Americans,
we wanna party.
But curfew cannot end because
the serial k*ller is still on the loose.
That's what my daughter's
been saying,
but for some reason
I believe it more from you.
We all do.
Okay. We're safe for tonight
because I scared the serial k*ller off.
But tomorrow, curfew's back on,
okay? What do you say?
What do we say?
We say, Manny for Fog King!
Manny for Fog King!
Wait, really?
What?
Okay, this is bad,
but we can still win.
Gigi, do you trust me?
- No, not at all.
- And why would you?
I wrapped your self-worth up
in a crown and failed to deliver it.
Fortunately, I have a plan.
If you fall off the pier
and I rescue you…
Holy crap! No wonder men are
so desperate to hold onto their power.
This is the easiest sh*t ever.
As a guy, I can do anything.
So I say: "I'll give you the parking
spot when you stop being a bitch."
- Manny! Manny!
- Oh, yeah!
No crown, no home!
What? Can I at least get my jade roller
and $ , for emergencies?
- Manny!
- Manny for King of the world!
I bet you'd be great at Fog King.
Hey, so I should probably go
before this goes too farce…
Far, I mean.
Whoa, hey. You're drunker
than a cool babysitter. You okay?
Honestly? No, Manny.
I'm drinking because I've had
a terrible couple of weeks.
I know we just met.
But can you keep a secret?
Am I a woman
just pretending to be a man?
- I mean, yes.
- Okay. I'm adopted.
And I located my birth parents.
- But they turned out to be criminals!
- Criminals! Oh, my God.
Why wouldn't you tell Velma?
That super cool and attentive bestie
you mentioned?
I've tried.
But unless you're helping her
find her dumb mom,
she has no time for you.
Okay, well,
a missing mom is pretty big.
My criminal parents
also abandoned me!
Like I was a puppy
after quarantine.
Oh, that's awful.
I'm sorry.
But is that bigger than…
No, no, you're right.
A good friend would have
been there for you,
even if your thing
wasn't worse than her thing.
- Still, this Velma kind of sucks.
- Thank you, Manny.
I can't believe I told you,
but I feel like we have
this crazy connection.
Do you feel it, too?
I do.
But look, I really need
to tell you something.
I'd be super psyched
to kiss you right now.
I bet you would, Velma.
That's my actual mustache, Fred.
I just didn't shave it.
- Velma?
- No?
Yes!
I've dreamt of those calloused
longshoremen's hands touching my face
for weeks, so as soon
as she slapped me, I knew.
I'm so sorry, Daphne.
I'd punch you, if men didn't sexualize
women fighting.
Baby, come on.
You're acting hysterical.
Damn it!
Okay. And now to officially
announce this year's Fog King.
You all know who it is.
Wait! Mother! Everyone.
I just learned that Manny is actually
Velma Dinkley in disguise,
and to be Fog King.
- Oh, my God!
- What?
Hold on. Hold on a second.
If Manny's a female interloper,
is or is not the serial k*ller a ghost?
Look, if we're being honest,
just like everything else these days,
the serial k*ller is whatever
you need it to be to feel your best.
And speaking of your best,
who wants to make me Fog King?
- We all would, Fred!
- Yes!
If we hadn't just given it to Norville.
He rescued a girl who fell off the pier.
I was pushed!
Thank you.
First and foremost,
I need to say,
"You're welcome", to my deserving
Fog Queen, Gigi.
I knew this crown
would restore your self-worth.
Gigi, are you out there?
Gigi? Gigi?
Daphne, I'm sorry.
I wanted to tell you I was Manny,
but as a guy, there's so
little consequence for your actions.
I was, like, "I'd be an idiot
not to at least try and go for it".
You know, the sad thing is,
I'm not even mad at you.
I'm mad at myself for letting you find
yet another way to disappoint me.
I know, and I'm mad at myself
for being selfish and a bad friend,
who only makes time for people
who can help me find my mom.
Maybe we should both be guys
and just stop caring
about feeling so much.
If you were a guy,
you'd die of gonorrhea within the year.
Yeah, but what a year.
Anyway, I didn't mean to blow you off.
I just feel guilty ever doing anything
other than looking for my mom.
Can you forgive me?
Watch out!
Gigi! Where are you?
The king and queen are supposed
to tastefully grind
on the dance floor now.
- That belongs to me.
- It belongs to the people.
We are a constitutional
fog-archy, damn it!
A churro?
Norville, stop! Going through doors
like this isn't physically possible.
Oh, God, you're right!
My entire perception
of reality is crumbling.
Wait, no, it's just a ride.
Now come back here!
Velma, look.
An old-timey photo booth.
- We can disguise ourselves.
- Daphne, that's stupid.
It will take at least
five minutes to change.
Who would ever stop to put on
a costume in the middle of a chase?
sh**t. The serial k*ller
disappeared in the fog.
Yeah, but by fog rules,
he still has to be nearby.
Wait, Fred has his phone?
Okay? For the last time. Are you,
or are you not, the serial k*ller?
I'm not. This thing must have gotten
swapped with my crown in the fog.
I know it's bad
he k*lled a bunch of girls,
but if I don't find the crown
right now,
I'm gonna have to spend
the night in my limo.
Also, come to think of it,
has anyone seen Gigi?
I'm worried the serial k*ller got her.
Oh, no!
Wait, no.
There she is, by the exit.
Gigi? Wait.
Are you a man who's been disguised
as a woman this whole time?
- A Gi-Joe?
- No.
I switched clothes with a dumb
carriage driver in the dumb fog.
- Not that you care.
- Not that I care?
Are you upset? How?
You won Fog Queen.
You showed the world you don't deserve
to be ignored by people you like.
You ignored me all night trying to win
those Fog King crowns.
Oh, my God, you're right.
I'm a monster.
No, you're not.
You're weird, sure,
but you're also sweet and amazing,
and deserve to be treated well.
Anyone who makes you feel like
you need a crown to prove that,
is the monster, Norville.
Wait, me? Why are we
talking about me?
This whole thing was only ever
about you and your emotions.
Yeah, okay, my King.
A crown! I can go home.
Who's pathetic now, Father?
Well, I wasn't able
to convince the town
to keep a curfew to protect
them from the serial k*ller.
But it won't matter.
Now that you have
the serial k*ller's cellphone,
I know you're gonna catch him
and find your mom.
And after that, I will focus
on only things that you wanna do.
Like complaining about girls
I thought you were friends with.
I'd like that, thanks.
Damn, girl! How'd you get
all that ass in those little slacks?