02x06 - Inspector 34

[bunniefuu]

BIG PETE:
This is my dad, and these

are his new underpants.

The thing he loves most
about opening a vacuum-sealed

three-pack of Kreb of the Loom

is the fact that some inspector

made sure each pair
meets government standards,

but not even my dad thinks about
who that inspector might be.

Only in America, Joyce.

Who does?

Most people

find those "inspected by" tags

in their clothes
and just toss them.

Not my brother, Pete.

He started collecting tags

ever since he noticed
a weird pattern.

Every pair
of underpants he ever got

was approved by one inspector.

34, you did it again.

At first, he thought
it was a coincidence,

but as he went day after day

without binding,
without chafing,

in complete snugness,
he finally understood.

Inspector 34 was really...

Your guardian angel?

Strange as it sounded,

Pete knew Inspector 34 was
out there, watching over him,

and, as we were all
about to learn,

he was absolutely right.

? Hey, smilin' strange ?

? You're lookin'
happily deranged ?

? Can you settle to sh**t me ?

? Or have you picked
your target yet? ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Does your dog bite? ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?
? Hey, Sandy ?

? Does your dog bite? ?
? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Does your dog bite? ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy, hey. ?

They say that, at first,
no one believed in the theories

of Christopher Columbus
and Albert Einstein.

So I guess Pete
was in pretty good company.

I don't care how
snug they fit.

You're nuts.

NONA:
Guardian angel?

Get help.

BIG PETE:
It wasn't hard to think
my brother was crazy.

Every day he sent fan letters
to Kreb of the Loom

to show Inspector 34
his appreciation,

and every night,
he fired up his landing pad,

hoping Inspector 34 would show.

To tell you the truth,

I kind of figured Inspector 34

was just a man in a factory,
myself, until the next day.

It began when me and Ellen were
practicing for our school band,

The Fighting Squids.

This year, instead
of spelling "Squid,"

the band was forming
a squid shape,

and we were
auditioning together

for the coveted part
of the left tentacle.

What's the
matter, Pete?

After all those letters
to the factory,

all I got were these
lousy underpants.

"Pete, urgent.

"Meet me Thursday night
at 9:00 p.m.

"behind the Pine
Disinfectant Plant.

Inspector 34"?

He needs me.

( cat yowls )

( crashing )

MAN:
Don't shake it.

Twist the lid one quarter
turn to the right.

The Krebstar 9300 series

has a defect in the
positive battery terminal.

Pete Wrigley,

I've watched you grow
from a toddler three

to a 14 regular.

Inspector 34!

I'm sorry to drag
you out like this,

but I need help.

Name it.

What am
I thinking?

I can't ask this of you.

Wait!

I know 24 knots

and I'm well trained
in high expl*sives.

Let me help.

It's not like that.

The work I do
is very important.

If I miss one flaw-- well,
you know what's at stake--

and yet,
sometimes I wonder.

Is there more to life
than underpants?

Have I struggled
so hard for perfection

that life is passing me by?

You seem to know
how to have fun

and how to "cut loose,"
as they say.

I was wondering.

Can you teach me?

Mom...

Dad.

This is a friend of
mine, Inspector 34.

( chuckling )
Inspector 34, yeah, and I'm...

Don Wrigley,

37 stout,
down from 38.

Well, that's right.

Joyce, the way you stay
size six is an inspiration.

Pete, Ellen.

You've grown so fast,

it's hard to keep up.

You know us, too?

I look after
many people...

but not many
invite me to dinner.

Well, make yourself at home,
Mister, uh, well, Inspector.

BIG PETE:
It was pretty weird.

None of us had ever seen
anyone eat so neatly.

Everything Inspector
34 did was perfect.

Look at that
stacking.

That was delicious.

I'll help clean up.

Well, thank you.

( thunder rumbling )

Don't touch that.

Go get my camera.
Right.

Go, go.

( stair squeaking )

Loose wood,
never good.

BIG PETE:
Inspector 34 showed us
how perfect life could be.

Now Pete was going

to show 34 how to live it.

I got it.
I got it.

( laughing )

Go ahead.

Kick it.

( gasps )

This is

Inspector 34.

You're real?

INSPECTOR 34:
As real as your new

Lou Costello
boxer shorts, Clem.

Wow.

How about a game
of kick-the-can?

Me?

Sure thing.

Just close your eyes
and count to ten

while we tear butt
and kick the can.

What the hey?

Only... if I might
make a suggestion?

Perhaps the game would
be more efficiently played

in teams,
with boundaries--

say the end of the yard. Perhaps

a set game time
would streamline things.

Why didn't we think of that?

I'm trained to catch defects

before they become defeats.

Come on,
chowder-heads.

Let's play can.

BIG PETE:
Inspector 34 had
jumped off the sidelines.

Not only was he
learning to live,
One... two... three...

he was learning
four...

to make life better,
five...

thanks to his amazing
six...

seven...
powers of perfection.

eight... nine... ten...

Maybe the best thing of all,

he was finally
beginning to learn

that being perfect

didn't have to mean being alone.

I think tentacles sway,
they don't waggle.

Trust me, I've seen them
waggle in the movies.

What do you think,
Inspector 34?

I think best friends
ought to agree

when it counts.

You two should put

your heads together
and come up with something.

Inspector 34.

Pete.

You've given me

so much more than
I can ever repay.

This is so much better
than underpants.

Don't mention it.

You know, I
used to look

at all the flaws
in the world,

and I'd think, if I could
make one thing perfect,

and then I did--
underpants.

But why set my
sights so low?

I mean, look at the
problems with the oceans,

and that hole
in the ozone.

I think I can help,

and I think you
can, too, Pete.

I want to teach you
everything I know.

I want to make you
an inspector,

like me.

BIG PETE:
And so the student
became the teacher.

Instead of learning
how to enjoy life,

Inspector 34 was teaching Pete
how to inspect it.

Before you can
inspect anything,

you have to first
inspect yourself.

This might hurt.

Make it stop!

Please make it stop!

BIG PETE:
While Pete began
his inspector training,

a funny thing was happening
to the rest of us.

It was like we were trying
to become more like 34.

( stair squeaking )

More perfect.

( chain saw roaring )

And the things
that weren't perfect,

like my friendship with Ellen,
suddenly began to matter.

We had all had
a taste of perfection,

and now everything else...

( horn blares sour note )

tasted like chunky milk.

Now that my brother Pete was
on the road to perfection...

You're late.

He didn't have much time
to spend with his friends.

After all, playing
kick the can seemed dull

compared
to inspecting underpants.

Let's get
started, people.

We're burning
daylight. Come on.

Working together,
Pete figured he and 34

would perfect the world and
nothing could get in the way,

but he was wrong.

You're Parking Enforcement
Officer McMillan.

"PEO Mac" they call you.

Size eight.

Regular.

You're Inspector 34.

I... I see you're working.

When am I not?

Law enforcement
is full-time work.

I misjudge
one curb-to-car

and the whole criminal
justice system collapses.

I, too, bear a grim
responsibility

for the public good.

Sometimes...
it's pretty lonely.

BIG PETE:
Pete had seen that stupid look
before... on me.

He knew love could turn
a normal man

into loose, drippy Jell-O.

I thought we were going
to save the world.

We will.

I just made one date,
that's all.

We're two professionals...
meeting... professionally.

( squeaking )

Fray on left sleeve,

crooked label,
fourth button backwards.

Not bad.

But not perfect.

Let's try it again.

BIG PETE:
So Pete decided he had to hurry
up and finish his training.

That way, he could go on
and save the world alone.

( trumpet plays sour notes )

But Pete wasn't the only one
working round the clock.

My dad spent most nights
scarfing chicken

in search of the best way
to stack bones...

Come on, my little femur,
give me purchase.

...while Mom fixed the creak
in the door,

the stairs, the pepper mill,

and even her
creak-fixing tools.

Now she was ready
to take on the attic.

I'm going up.

Even Pete's friends made
kick the can so efficient

they no longer had to play.

Instead, they calculated the
probabilities of who would win.

My game.

Yeah.

I'm b*at.

Let's call it a day.

BIG PETE:
And finally,

the big day arrived.

Inspector 34 and PEO Mac

were going to have
their big date.

But first,
Pete was about to take

his final and most
grueling test.

Pull!

Torn left seam,
extra label glue,

pucker in the cup,

a tear in the spandex,
fifth row.

Perfect.

I made it.

I'm an inspector.

Well, not quite yet, Pete.

There's one more thing.

You see, we inspectors

hew to a stricter code
than do civilians.

It's not enough
to just pass a test.

You have to prove
you're ready.

A real inspector
will know how.

Well, I have a date.

But what about our mission?

I'll be back.

No, you won't.

If you don't get it right,
we'll never make it, Ellen.

I was doing it right.

You're just too stubborn
to admit it.

Maybe Inspector 34
was right.

Best friends are
supposed to agree.

Well, maybe we shouldn't
be best friends.

Yeah, well, maybe you're right.

While my life-long friendship
with Ellen was drifting away,

Inspector 34's life with
PEO Mac was just beginning.

Everything is perfect.

The sky, the grass,
the barometric pressure,

the turkey and Swiss.

I'm a great cook,
and I'm modest.

( laughing )

( laughing )

( laughing )

Come on, that was a joke.

Oh, yes, ha. Funny.

What's the matter?

What is it?

You know, Mac,

maybe this isn't
such a good idea.

I mean, I've a very
heavy workload.

It's not a good time
for me to be dating.

I'm sorry.

Good-bye.

( trap spring clattering )

Defective inseam.

Could cause chafing.

Inspector 34.

You were right.

Love can't interfere.

I'm needed.
We're needed.

We've got a job to do.

You passed.

You saw something
I didn't see.

You inspected the situation

and you saw that love
was in the way.

That's the final test.

These are for you.

You'll have to fill in
your name for now

until we get you a number.

I made it.

I should have
listened to you.

I don't need love.

I have my work.

That's what I love.

I came to you to see
if there was more to life.

Now I know there is.

My mission, our mission,

that's all that matters.

Any distraction
must be eliminated.

But...

No "buts," buddy boy.
Time to get tough.

Today it's underpants,
tomorrow the world.

( saw buzzing )

BIG PETE:
Now that he had finally
made it,

Pete could see what perfection
was doing to all of us,

including himself.

My brother Pete thought
he and Inspector 34

were going to save mankind.

Now he had a new mission--

to save his friends and family
from the icy

grip of perfection

and to rescue Inspector 34
from himself.

Do you know
what you're doing?

BIG PETE:
He sure did.

My brother was wearing
the defective underpants

from his training,

figuring it would attract 34
like a beacon.

And sure enough...

You passed these underpants
for inspection!

What are you talking about?

I suppose this
isn't your tag?

I say you've gone soft.

You're a disgrace
to your number.

You're not fit to inspect.

What are you doing?

You told me before
you can become an inspector,

you have to prove yourself
worthy.

I say you don't have the guts!

I taught you everything.

Now you challenge me?!

All right.

I submit to inspection.

But when I pass,
it'll be your turn.

And there won't be
enough left of you

to wipe up with a moisty nap.

BIG PETE:
Pete planned a series
of brutal tests.

First, putting an ice tray
in the freezer

without spilling a drop.

Next, squeezing every molecule
of toothpaste out of a tube.

All through the day,
test after grueling test,

Inspector 34 was perfect.

That is snug.

It seemed like
nothing could stop him.

Well, is that all?

One more test.

Give me what you've got.

Then it's your turn.

Watch and learn.

BIG PETE:
The final test:
table manners...

with barbecue chicken--

one of the messiest foods
known to man.

Inspector 34 was perfect

and it looked like Pete
was meat.

Moisty nap?

Not necessary.

BIG PETE:
Then suddenly, it hit us like
a truckload of underpants.

Moisty naps?

You're supposed to use
your hands.

It just tastes better that way.

Barbecues
are supposed
to be messy.

Eating perfectly
is imperfect.

You fail!

( inhales deeply )

I'm supposed to be perfect.

What am I?

Wait.

You've won.

34, we're not like underpants.

We're people.

We're not

supposed
to be perfect.

I'm defective.

I don't belong here.

Yes,

you do.

How about staying
for dinner?

We'll do a real barbecue.

I'll teach you
everything I know.

BIG PETE:
With each greasy,
sloppy bite we took,

we moved further away
from perfection,

and so did Inspector 34,

who decided he was going
to give imperfection

his best sh*t.

Maybe that would mean
that now and then

a pair of underpants
would make it to Wellsville

with twisted elastic
or crooked seams.

But then again, maybe that
wouldn't be so bad.

( rock music playing )

? He's coming down
but he's not alone ?

? He's gonna bring
an army of saints ?

? He's taking all his
back home ?

? And then destroying
what remains ?

? Waiting for October ?

? I cross my fingers,
cross my heart ?

? And I hope to die ?

? Waiting for October ?

? I'm in the book
and I'll be learning ?

? To be wings ?

? To be wings... ?

? Hope... ?

? Mm-mm-mm-mm ?

? La ?

? Hoping that the end... ?