Previously on Velma…
Oh, no, Dad!
I need you to believe me
that Mom was kidnapped,
or I'm gonna die!
Okay, okay, I believe you,
I swear! I believe you.
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.
Damn, girl. How'd you get all
that ass in those little slacks?
We have found a pattern.
Each of the victims is hot.
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.
I'm not going to school.
From the moment Daphne and I met,
it was special.
Get outta here, you old bag!
We had other friends,
but they were like granola bars,
only there for emergencies.
Let's go, Daph.
Sure. We had hit
a bumpy patch
when my mom disappeared
and Daphne got hot.
- Let's go, Daph.
- I'm Norville.
You are who I say you are.
But after almost dying together,
and nabbing the serial k*ller's
cellphone at Fog Fest,
it felt like we were finally back
to the way things were meant to be.
Daphne.
Thelma, can you
help me find Fred?
He's missing, and I know
your people are great at tracking.
Sorry, I'm busy.
And I've told you, I'm not Navajo.
Let's go, Daph.
- I'm glad we're finally friends again.
- Same.
Oh, my God, I'm so mad,
we're friends again!
We're gonna die down here, Daphne!
And it's all your fault!
What? You are the reason
we're pinned by a rock in this ravine!
- If we die, it's your fault!
- My fault? Nothing is ever my fault!
Daphne, if you were a serial k*ller,
what would your password be?
I've tried "mustache fan",
"I took the red pill", and "van owner."
Daphne? Daphne!
What have I told you about texting
during my times of need?
It's nothing. Relax.
Hey, you two knuckleheads
claim to be cops.
Can you hack
the serial k*ller's phone?
Unfortunately, without proof that's
the serial k*ller's phone,
our hands are tied.
But Daphne can definitely help.
She has phone hacking experience
from "the incident".
- Mom!
- "The incident"? What's that?
In my family, "the incident"
refers to the time
my mom danced
with a male waiter on a cruise.
The incident?
It was literally nothing.
Look at all those homeless people.
Each one, a different story.
If it was literally nothing,
why are you changing the subject?
I'm not changing the subject.
But wouldn't you agree that
the strongest use of flashbacks on TV,
is when one character's flashback
is intercut with another's
to eventually combine
in the present storyline?
You are totally changing the subject.
You are, Daphne.
But it's interesting. You're saying
if this was a flashback
in your point of view,
in order for it to be earned,
we'd have to cut to,
I don't know, Fred?
Exactly.
I like it when they use a title card
with the character's name
when they cut to
a different flashback.
- Now, that feels lazy.
- It's stylized. It's Tarantino.
What is "the incident"?
Whoa, where… Where am I?
Hey, let me out!
My parents will never pay ransom.
They thanked the North Koreans
when they kidnapped my brother.
Fred? Is that you?
Brenda? But I was at your funeral.
I got so wasted.
It's not just Brenda, Fred.
Lola and I are here too.
Typical, even now, Brenda has
to be the center of attention.
- Not this sh*t again, Krista.
- Guys, stop fighting.
No boy is worth
sloshing your goo over.
I still say it's more seamless
without the title card.
And I still say my old job
as a television executive
makes me worried audiences
won't be able to follow it.
Hey, is that the black light
from the Halloween
we went as a sexy crime scene?
I'm still technically
grounded for that.
Yep. My moms use it to criticize
how well the other one
cleaned the bathroom.
But we can use the light
to tell which numbers
the serial k*ller presses
most often, by the smudges.
So you did hack
into someone's phone.
- Wait. Was "the incident" me?
- No.
But a while back, I was low-key
obsessed with someone.
I lost my mind for a hot second
and hacked their phone
to see if they liked me.
- They didn't. End of story.
- Like me and Neil deGrasse Tyson.
That's all you had to say.
But who the hell was it?
Velma, focus. Opening this phone
is the key to finding your mom.
The password is one, two,
three, four.
Yeesh, is the serial k*ller
my grandpa?
sh**t, he was careful.
No messages, no mail, no nudes.
Wait. He accidentally
took a photo in the woods.
That's Mount Crystal.
This is huge.
We're going there tomorrow.
And on the car trip, you will
tell me about "the incident"
while I will either laugh
or scream at you.
Fine. Wait, hold on.
- Who do you keep texting?
- It's no one. Don't worry about it.
You're alive? How?
All we know, is that whoever took us
plans to put our brains in someone else.
Oh, my God, Velma was wrong.
The ghost of Edna Perdue
is back to finish her work.
- Ghost?
- Velma?
Has the absence of our popularity
left such a void,
you're now
hanging out with Velma?
No.
You going from Daphne to Velma
is worse than going from a beloved
cartoon to a playful reimagining.
Totally, right?
Though Daphne and I did break up.
Well, isn't that perfect?
Fred Jones is finally single,
and here I am, just a brain.
I'd actually say it is perfect.
Because I just learned the hottest part
of a woman is her brain.
- Did you?
- Yes, Brenda.
- Or should I call you Brain-da?
- Jeez, get a jar, you two.
Daphne, come on. It's time to go look
for the serial k*ller in the woods.
And yes, saying that
out loud for the first time,
it sounds like
a terrible idea, but…
Hey, Velma, look. I'm sorry
it's so last minute, but I can't go.
What? Why not?
I brought your favorite snacks, water,
and pictures of Tom Holland.
Now let's go, Daph.
Olive?
What are you doing here?
The only answer I'll accept
is using your long ass arms
to change light bulbs.
Today, Olive and I are taking pictures
for the sexy calendar
we sell to fight discrimination
against hot girls.
What?
Without our tireless work, beautiful
actresses would never have the chance
to win awards
playing unattractive women.
I was gonna tell you last night,
but after you heard
about "the incident",
I was worried you'd freak out.
Freak out?
I'm famously chill about everything.
Why would I care if the night after I
learned
you were obsessed
with someone
you wanna play Terry Richardson
with Olive?
Wait, hold on.
Was Olive "the incident"?
Velma, we can talk about this
when you get back. I have to go.
This is my long ass arm
saying goodbye.
Come on, Daph.
For May, let's try a picture
where I'm only wearing flowers
on my privates.
Let's discuss inside.
- Velma, what's happening?
- I'm having a deadly hallucination.
- I thought those were over!
- Me, too.
Being so close to finding
my mom must have triggered it.
But go sh**t your calendar.
I'm sure I won't have another one
in the woods and die all alone.
And that's why this is your fault,
Velma. You're so possessive,
you faked a hallucination just to keep
me from hanging out with Olive.
No. This isn't Velma's fault, Daphne.
It's Norville's.
Yeah, Daphne, this is Norville fault.
But just to be clear, how exactly?
It started when we got home
from Fog Fest.
Well, I should go.
Your father likes
to tail me home,
and I don't wanna
keep him up too late.
My parents are actually out of town.
So, could you be a gentleman
and unzip me?
Say no more.
I do this for my mom all the time,
now that she's perimenopausal
and constantly bloats.
Goodbye to
her reproductive years,
but hello to womanhood's
beautiful final chapter.
You're good.
Wait. Gigi, is your cabin
up by Mount Crystal empty?
- Maybe. Why?
- No reason.
- Well then, you better go rest up.
- You, too.
The last thing we want
are canker sores from a lack of sleep.
Olive, I'm sure Fred
hasn't gone missing.
He probably just got stuck
in his gold pajamas again.
Damn it! Not again.
- I told you to poke holes in it.
- Why am I such an idiot?
I'll never make it as a brain.
My parents always say
it's my worst attribute.
You'll be fine, Fred.
And there's a lot of upside.
Like, you'll never have to
touch an old person again.
Thanks, babe. Maybe one day
we can connect our jars,
like one of those
hamster houses.
I'd like that.
But do you think
what we're feeling is real,
or are we just making the best
out of a terrible situation?
Like, when I got a tan
at my grandma's funeral?
I honestly don't know.
But it sure seems real.
Seems real?
I didn't ask if it seems real.
I asked if it is real, Fred.
You know what?
Just put me back on the table.
I can't believe
I let you drink from my jar.
Norville, what are they doing here?
Hey, Daphne. Hey, Velma.
Why wouldn't they be here?
The woods belong to everybody,
thank you very much,
Teddy Roosevelt.
But this was supposed to be
a romantic getaway for two.
I have been hinting at this
since we started dating.
Hints? What hints?
We don't have to sneak around.
I have a cabin in the woods.
Hey, so remember when I mentioned
my cabin in the woods?
Norville, I wanna go with you
to my cabin in the woods.
I'll go.
I thought you were bragging.
My parents have a timeshare
near Area ,
but I feel tacky mentioning it.
Okay, but then why did you
wanna use my cabin?
We're looking for the serial k*ller.
There was a picture
of Mount Crystal on his phone.
Hold up. The serial k*ller
is near my cabin,
and you didn't tell me, the hottest
remaining girl at the school?
I wasn't expecting you to be here.
Also, for what it's worth,
Daphne is technically hotter.
You just have
a mildly better personality.
See? If Norville could take a hint
or read a signal,
we wouldn't be stuck here
like a Hours reboot
with a bigger, more diverse cast
that old people will gripe about.
Fine. I might not be great
at reading signals,
but I am great at sending them
from my emergency homing beacon.
Everyone cheer for Norville.
- Yay, Norville!
- Yeah!
Falcon Two has visuals.
Preparing to lower for extraction.
Copy that, Falcon Two.
But we need you to abort mission
and return to base.
Abort mission?
Sir, if we don't
pull these kids out right now,
they won't live
through the night.
That's a risk we'll have to take.
Fred Jones, the son of a wealthy
white family, has gone missing.
All local units are being diverted
to the search, effective immediately.
Sir, when I became a helicopter
rescue person, I took an oath.
And I'd rather die than break it.
- Have any of you seen Fred Jones?
- What? No.
That tracks.
Okay, guys, since it looks like
this really might be the end,
I have a confession to make.
- This is all Daphne's fault.
- Velma, stop.
We have to figure out how to get out
of here. We don't have time for…
It's embarrassing, Norville!
How is it embarrassing to be considered
the second hottest girl in school?
Well, third,
if you throw in my mom.
Hey, maybe we should go?
This is super juicy, but live
streaming it will drain my battery.
And I'm only here
for your hallucinations anyway.
Hallucinations? Well, Velma doesn't
have those anymore.
I mean, you wouldn't know it, given
how tired and puffy she still looks,
but that's all sodium intake.
I knew you were lying.
You slept the whole car ride here.
It was like sitting in the front row
of a dolphin show.
I'm sorry, but can you blame me?
Just when we finally reconnect,
I learn you have some other friend
you're obsessed with.
Where are you going?
There is a serial k*ller in the woods.
Or worse, a celebrity
doing a social media cleanse.
I don't care.
I'm so mad at you for lying,
I'm walking to town to find Wi-Fi,
and even if I don't find it,
I would rather call an actual taxi
from a stranger's landline
than spend
one more second with you.
That makes two of us.
I cannot believe I wore
edible underwear for this.
Do you think they'll be okay?
And did Gigi mention if there's
more edible underwear?
- I'm starving.
- They'll be fine.
Well, Daphne will be at least.
Is that a joke?
Daphne is too pale for the outdoors.
Her skin crisps
like a rotisserie chicken.
No, she's fine
because she's alone with Gigi.
Apparently, before you
and Daphne reconnected,
or whatever it is
you guys are doing,
Daphne had a thing for Gigi.
She even hacked her phone.
Wait, so the incident
wasn't Olive, it was Gigi?
No. And I just drove Daphne
right into her arms.
Velma, come on.
I think you're overreacting.
Oh, my God!
For the first time in your life,
you weren't reacting enough.
- What's going on here?
- Velma, stop!
Gigi said there was a cave
down in that ravine,
so we came out to try and see if that's
where the serial k*ller was hiding.
But then the outcropping
started to break off under our weight.
Your weight? Please.
Legally, both of you
should still be in car seats.
Oh, my God, I'm so mad,
we're friends again!
We're gonna die down here,
Daphne.
So Daphne's obsession with Gigi
is why we're gonna die here,
sitting in puddles
of our own filth.
I'm not in a puddle of my own filth.
Are you guys?
But more importantly, Daphne hasn't
been obsessed with me for a year.
Does no one read my blog,
Gigi's Juicy Journey?
It's true. I'm not obsessed
with Gigi anymore.
- But this is still all my fault.
- Wait, what? For reals?
Because, honestly, I was really
grasping at straws when I blamed you.
No, it's my fault.
I know you're possessive, Velma.
But I've always said it's one
of my favorite parts of our friendship.
Said? Said to who?
Was it Gigi? I'll k*ll her.
Yes, I love that.
I was abandoned by my parents,
so I like feeling wanted.
And when we stopped being friends,
I tried to recreate what we had.
But the only other person
who's ever found me irreplaceable
is the captain of my tug of w*r team.
Why not tell me that?
Because after all
our ups and downs,
it felt really good to see you jealous
again last night.
Hold on. You wanted me
to get jealous and rage out?
Yes, but I didn't expect you to lie
about your hallucinations
just to drag me to the woods.
Help! The rock shifted.
It feels like I'm flying Southwest.
Wait, if the rock can move,
one of us can wiggle out
and to avoid issues of sizeism,
it should be me.
- Stop!
- Velma, it's too tight.
One of us can get out, but only if we
pick someone to be crushed to death.
- Gigi, what are you doing?
- I picked.
This is Velma's fault, because
everything crazy that happens
is Velma's fault, Norville.
- It's Daphne's fault, Norville.
- It's Velma's fault.
Interestingly, we're trapped
in an actual fault.
Shut up, Norville!
Oh, no. Was that bathroom graffiti
prediction about me right?
Did I die and go to hell?
No, from the look of these crystals
and the smell of horny bats,
this must be an extension
of the Crystal Mines.
The Crystal Mines?
Of course.
That would explain how the serial k*ller
moves around unseen.
And if he took a picture
around here… Mom! Mom!
Velma, shush.
Our fall caused structural damage.
If we're not quiet,
this whole place could collapse
quicker than
our tenuous friendships.
That's it. We're getting out of here
right now, Norville.
We need to have
a little talk about us.
About us? Why?
You just saved Velma's life
instead of mine!
Hey, we're gonna head out.
Look, I know it's dangerous to be
in here, but I have to find my mom.
And maybe we should have
a little talk about us, too.
And no changing
the subject this time.
Yeah, okay.
But have we even discussed
how the federal government
just kind of admitted
that there are aliens?
What was that?
Oh, no. Krista, wake up.
We fell asleep. I have to get you
back on the table before…
What the hell?
Krista, you hooked up with Fred?
- Fred said you broke up.
- Babies, hey. Freddie can explain.
And can you explain how you also
hooked up with me, Fred?
- What?
- Yes, I can actually.
Please don't be mad
I manipulated you, Velma.
I'm not mad. I'm shocked.
You've always been
the good one in our friendship.
You don't laugh when I trip, even though
I always laugh when you do.
Well, then maybe we're both
too messed up to be friends.
- It's clearly not working.
- I think you're right.
So, maybe it's time
we tried being girlfriends.
Girlfriends? Seriously?
I'm sorry. I'm a flawed man.
And that flaw is that I love too much.
Fred?
You all mean so much to me because
of this crazy shared experience.
So many memories.
Lola's brain-ceanera,
Krista's pregnancy scare…
No matter what happens,
we are bonded for life.
And that's bound to lead
to some relationship weirdness.
We are the Fleetwood Mac of a guy
trapped in a cave with some brains.
Only a landslide
won't bring us down.
Well, when you put it like that,
maybe you're right, Fred.
Oh, no! The ghost of Edna Perdue
has finally come for me.
Eat brain, ghost.
- Velma?
- Fred, what are you doing here?
No time to explain. I'm free.
It's Brenda's brain.
Yeah, bitch. And don't say it
like it's more shocking
than you hanging out
with Velma again.
Dry your tears, world.
Fred is back!
No! Now I have to yell louder
to be heard over this collapsing cave.
Help! Help!
Krista and Lola are here, too.
We discovered the serial k*ller's lair.
What do you mean, quote,
"discovered it"?
We were already here.
Yeah. Nice colonial
mindset, Columbus.
But how is this possible?
Who would keep their brains alive?
Not that I'm not super excited
you're still around, ladies.
It's like what I said. Someone is trying
to recreate Dr. Perdue's work.
Which means…
Brains, where's my mom?
Indian woman. Lots of opinions
on weight and personal hygiene.
The only person we've seen
is that freak in the welder's mask.
What? But that's impossible.
My mom has to be here.
Guys, something's causing
the cave to collapse!
This is what happens when you invite
unpopular girls, like Velma to a party.
- Velma, we have to go!
- You go. Take the brains.
I know my mom is here
and I'm not leaving until I find her.
Oh, God.
Velma, you'll never make it.
You can barely clear a jump rope.
Leave the brains.
They wouldn't save you. Trust me!
No. I need to learn to be cool
with your other friends.
She's not gonna make it!
Oh, my God, I made it.
Wait. Am I secretly athletic?
Oh, no!
Don't let them plant a tree
in my honor!
- I got you!
- What? Who?
Oh, my God! Mom!
That's right, Velma.
Mom is here.
It's all gonna be okay.
It's okay. We've got you
dried up, old version of Velma.
Mom, it's you.
I finally found you.
I knew you would.
I thought about you every day.
Hey, not to interrupt the moment,
but we really need to go.
Follow me.
Yes!
It's still here.
Mom, whose van is this?
Why did they take you?
What were they planning to do
with Dr. Perdue's research?
I'll tell you everything
when we get out of here.
Now, get in this mystery jalopy.
Oh, god, there's no exit anywhere.
Who am I? Jean-Paul Sartre?
Did you get that, Mom? No exit?
Like Sartre's seminal play about hell?
I do. Very good. I've missed you
constantly seeking my approval.
And I've missed constantly
needing your approval.
Guys, please. Less reconnecting,
more not dying.
We're not gonna die. I think.
We might actually. Oh, boy.
Hold on!
Velma, what principle
of physics am I using?
- Centripetal force.
- A-plus.
Jesus Christ, just watch the road!
Daphne has become very rude.
Tell me you're not still best friends.
Sunlight!
There must be an opening.
Wait, no, it's lava. Crap.
I've just finally realized
that all the problems we have
are because
you still like Velma.
Gigi, that's insane.
No one knows my heart
better than me.
Not even Mary J. Blige.
And if I'm lying about liking you,
then let her send me a sign.
- Oh, my God, we made it!
- Fred's alive!
I am never having a scary adventure
in a van again.
- Now may I hug my daughter, Daphne?
- Yes.
Hey, I don't wanna ruin the moment,
but the brains are starting to smell.
It's a special day
here in Crystal Cove,
as one of our worst nightmares
comes to an end.
That's right.
Fred Jones has been found alive.
What's more, Fred seems
to have single-handedly located
the brains of the m*rder*d hot girls
and their cleaning lady, Diya Dorkly.
Though one big question
still remains.
What is the cleaning lady's
immigration status?
Okay, time to go.
Velma, It's okay.
I'll see you at the hospital.
But, Mom, you still haven't
told me who did this.
- Who took you?
- I didn't tell you yet? It's… I…
I can't remember.