04x12 - A Christmas Car-Roll

[bunniefuu]

Walter: Previously on Scorpion...

We need to bail ourselves out of a half million dollar debt.

I'll submit to the board after school.

Speaking of which, I've never had a tardy before.

And I'm not starting now.

And you're not starting now.

Hey, Patty.

Yup.

Really don't like this development.

My name is Florence Tipton.

I'm your new neighbor.

I just set up my lab in the adjoining warehouse, and I cannot function with all this distraction.

I'm still not sure about her.

Paige: I'm gonna give her a chance, and I think you should, too.

I rule that the defendant is not guilty as a matter of law.

Mr.

Gallo, you are free to go.

[grunts]

Stack the canisters under the pallet.

There is a sh*t at survival if we submerge her in ballistic gel.

You helped keep my team together, so thank you.

You're welcome.

♪ It's gonna be a kick-ass Christmas...

♪ Hey, boss, bend your ear for a sec?

No.

Busy.

You are a menace.

What?

Okay, it's Christmas Eve, and I haven't gotten Toby a gift yet.

First married Christmas, so it's got to be good.

You've known him longer, and I suck at gifts, so, advice.

Scented candle.

They're affordable and long-lasting, and it's proven the pleasant olfactory stimulation enhances brain function.

You're welcome.

Scented candle?

Seriously?

[pouring coffee]

Oh, you use Cabe's Kings mug, and he will k*ll you.

Seeing that I just saved your life, you owe me one good present idea.

Almost ready to go?

Sure am, boss.

Thanks.

Mm-hmm.

Sylvester: I can't release it like this.

Of course you can, so stop stressing.

It's defective.

Patty: To you.

No one else will notice.

Notice what?

The anti-bullying video game I'm making for West Altadenia schools.

The rendering code has a bug.

I could actually really use your help figuring this out.

The deadline is today.

I've never had a tardy.

And besides, who would even notice the glitch?

Sylvester: I would.

There is a visual glitch that skips 1/1000 of a frame.

Which no human eye can detect.

Video games?

Kids need books, not more screen time.

Seriously, Sylvester, when are you gonna put your childhood away?

It's almost time to leave.

O'Brien, penny for your thoughts.

How about a dime to leave me alone?

Right after you riddle me this.

See, you've known Happy longer than I have, so I'm wondering...

Scented candle.

Now pack up.

We're leaving soon, and...

I already packed.

Paige, this is a quick job, so this bag's a little bit excessive.

In fact, everyone is overpacking.

Oh, Walter, I hate to break it to you, but no one is packing for the job.

I don't understand.

Why not?

Because it's Christmas Eve.

We all made other plans.

I wrote an e-mail confirmation to the whole team specifically for this job.

And how many responses did you get?

I thought that no news was good news.

Wrong.

No news is good-bye.

We're not doing a corporate gig on Christmas Eve.

We just got Cabe's bail money back, so we're basically back to zero on the balance sheet.

We have to refill Scorpion's coffers.

And I thought I could lure you away.

I got a cabin in Big Bear.

I was gonna surprise you, but as soon as we came in, all you could talk about was being ready for the server-update job.

It's because I'm looking out for our financial interests.

We're getting paid double time.

Dude, it's Christmas Eve.

Did my e-mail not mention a post-job team meal?

That's festive.

And I quote, "We'll work for a few hours, then grab a bite at Kovelsky's at the end of the night." That's sad, not festive.

Oh, this is a Christmas mutiny.

Forgive me and Toby if we want to finally have our honeymoon.

City of West Altadenia is throwing a holiday fair-- toy drive, games for the kids.

There's gonna be a meal service from the food pantry for families less fortunate.

Arranged it all myself.

Young person, why are you always here, monopolizing my employees' time?

Actually, he doesn't mind you being in the garage.

Actually, I do.

You're like a Canadian penny I can't seem to get rid of.

Hey, Patty's my intern.

Not a problem.

Next legislative session, Alderman Dodd and I will conduct our business at City Hall.

[watch beeps]

Anyway, I got to head home for Christmas Eve dinner with my family.

I've never had a tardy and...

All: And you're not starting now.

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Even you, Grinch.

Excuse me?

Green creature?

I'm not a Grinch.

Copy that, Scrooge.

Ralph: Are you kidding me, Walter?

I want her spending more time here, not less.

I guess that's our cue, too.

So, that's it?

You're all leaving me to do the work on my own?

There's plenty of time for corporate gigs in the new year, boss.

We could have all had a good time today.

Yeah, sure.

We don't need to spend every minute together, people.

You know what?

I'll do the job myself.

I don't need your help.

I don't need any of you.

[typing]

Walt, I don't want to curse at you at Christmas, so we're all just gonna go.

Ralph, go put our stuff in the car, okay?

[door opens]

Walter, I know you're worried about Scorpion, but the company is gonna pull through.

And everyone needs time off now and then.

So, if you're asking, I don't think you're on the right side of this one.

But I respect your right to make this decision, so I'm just gonna text you the cabin's address in case you want to drive up, spend Christmas together.

I just have so many proposals to get through, but-but how about you and Ralph stay here?

And then I can power through the paperwork, and by late afternoon, we can enjoy some yuletide cheer?

We spend 364 days a year here in this garage.

I'm not gonna have Ralph spend Christmas here, too.

So we're gonna go.

I hope you reconsider.

Love you.

Reciprocated.

Well, Allie's with her family in Denver.

Looks like it's you and me and a knish from Kovelsky's.

A six-hour job just doubled because I'm doing it by myself, so Kovelsky's is off the table.

Well, I can help speed things along.

It's a server upgrade.

An insurance company, so, your skills don't really apply.

Okay.

Well...

Have a nice Christmas.

You, too.

Love to see how you'd all fare on your own.

I don't need them.

I'm gonna have a kick-ass Christmas all by myself.

♪ It's gonna be a kick-ass Christmas ♪ ♪ It's gonna be a kick-ass...

♪ Year!

Ooh!

[groans]

[piano playing "O, Come All Ye Faithful"]

[groans softly]

[train whistle blows]

This is curious.

Where's everyone else's desks?

[train whistle blows]

Odd.

Hello?

[piano continues playing "O Come, All Ye Faithful"]

Paige?

Oh, I feel weird.

[gasps]

Oh, my God!

Honey, you startled me.

Did you say something?

I didn't hear you over the music.

[music stops]

Looks like somebody fell asleep at their desk again.

Hi.

We're married?

Yes.

Last time I checked.

You could use some coffee.

Think I'm hallucinating.

Here.

No, not Cabe's mug.

He'll k*ll me.

Who's Cabe?

Okay, just what is going on?

What's going on is that you clearly didn't get enough sleep last night.

Come on, grab your gear.

We got to get to campus.

It's going to be totally deserted.

Today will be our most productive day of the entire year.

Can you do me a favor and grab the paper for me, please?

Merry Christmas.

We stopped that.

[soft, rhythmic clattering]

Strange.

[person whistling]

Hello?

Feliz Navidad, amigo!

Ray?

Hey.

What are you doing here?

Hell if I know.

You imagined me.

But my guess is, it's got something to do with that.

Man: Help!

Help!

Help!

I'm hurt!

Hello?

Help!

I'm stuck in here!

You okay, muchacho?

Oh, boy.

That's weird.

Ray, what the hell is going on?

Listen, you need to focus, friend.

Now we both know you took a half gainer down the stairs.

You're on the garage floor, unconscious, bleeding out.

Walter [in car]: Someone help me, please.

What am I supposed to do about him?

Well, my guess is, Extra Walter in there is a manifestation of your real-life physical state.

So if I save him, I save myself?

No, no, no.

Saving him is you fighting to stay alive.

And I think you may have some help.

Listen.

Florence: Cabe?

You have to stop the others from leaving, and you have to get back to the garage.

I just came in to give him my present, and I found him bleeding on the ground.

I did call 911, and they said ten minutes, but I am telling you, he does not have ten minutes!

♪ Scorpion 4x12 ♪ A Christmas Car-Roll I know what's happening.

Yep.

A neurological study...

...of postmortem rats showed brain activity up to 30 seconds after death.

Low gamma waves actually spiked, creating a heightened state of consciousness before permanent unconsciousness.

So if I am at heightened unconsciousness, I can use it to my advantage, force myself to wake up, and then get help.

Sure thing, Cool Breeze-- go for it.

Okay.

[low, strained grunting]

Yeah.

Didn't seem to have worked, did it?

[strained grunting nearby]

Walter: I'm doing worse in there.

Which means you're doing worse in the real world.

But you better think of something, 'cause if Car Walter goes down...

[taps on car]

this is a dream you don't wake up from.

Ray, I need your help.

No can do.

I'm merely the tour guide on this ride.

I don't know what to do.

Cabe: Hello, Angelinos.

This is your LAPD chief, Cabe Gallo, reminding you our toy drive is still going strong, accepting donations to spread joy this holiday season.

Since when is Cabe the police chief?

Listen...

this whole world was created by your axons, your neurons misfiring while your body shuts down.

And they're gonna get real wonky as your condition worsens.

Easiest way to put it: things change around here.

Okay, I just got to calm down and figure this out.

On your own?

While you're bleeding to death.

Walter...

you can't do this on your own.

You're right.

I'm gonna go find Cabe.

Flo, Flo, get out of the way!

Happy, can you grab my med bag?

He's breathing really fast.

Oh, yeah.

Oh, that's low and shallow.

Looks like he sliced his superficial temporal artery.

He lost a lot of blood.

Can you get another towel?

This one's soaked.

Med bag.

Happy, keep the pressure on.

What are you doing?

Glasgow Coma Scale.

No, I don't think he's responding to our voices.

Walter!

Walt!

Open your eyes!

There's nothing.

I'm pressing his nail bed with a pen.

Well, he's reflexive to pain, but he's unresponsive-- that's a six out of 15.

Bad?

Three is the lowest possible score.

He's got a blown pupil.

What does a blown pupil mean?

It means there's bleeding between his skull and his brain.

I-It's pushing the brain through the opening at the skull's base.

He's dead if that pressure isn't relieved immediately.

Well, then grab something from your med bag and fix it!

There's nothing in my med bag that can fix this!

But there is something in Happy's toolbox.

Excuse me?

Excuse me?

I need to speak with Cabe Gallo immediately!

Hey, keep it down!

Patty?

What are you doing here?

It's Sergeant Logan, and I work here.

We need to speak with Cabe now.

A few things.

One, you seem to have a problem with titles.

It's Chief of Police Cabe Gallo.

Two, he doesn't take walk-ins.

He rarely talks to the people who actually work here.

And three, who's "we"?

Totally forgot.

You're the only one who can see me.

Walter: I'm sorry.

It's just me.

Alone.

Are you sure you don't recognize me?

Negative.

But if you're as crazy as you seem to be, I'm sure I'll get an APB any minute now about some loony escaped from the bin.

Oh, she is as salty as the Dead Sea.

Which, by the way, has an average salinity rating of 34%.

What are you doing?

Hey, you're the one making me jabber this gibberish.

Now, are you gonna take charge of the situation, or you gonna get shut down by a teen tyrant?

Cabe?

Cabe Gallo!

Cabe Gallo!

I will stun you, sir.

Cabe Gallo!

Chief Gallo!

What the hell is going on out here?

Cabe, you got to listen to me.

And who the hell are you?

Uh, my name is Walter O'Brien.

I run a team of geniuses tackling worldwide threats that only we can solve.

Ray: No, no, no-- here, you're a professor at USC, married to your wife Florence.

I don't work at USC, and I'm not married to Florence.

Good for you.

I don't work at Six Flags, and I'm not married to Big Bird.

Now, you got one minute to get out of here, before you're cuffed for disturbing the peace.

Told you he doesn't like talking to people.

I...

[mumbling]

Uh...

listen, I'm sorry to bother you, but there was an accident, a guy's trapped, and he could die.

So call 911, get traffic control over there.

No go-- it's Christmas Eve.

We're short-staffed.

Most of my people are home with their family.

And maybe you ought to be, too, son.

You might not know my rep, but I don't suffer fools.

Now, clear out of my station house.

This is not hard-- just get a rescue team, get the Jaws of Life-- this is what you're good at, for God's sakes!

Actually, it's not.

It's not my skill set.

Oh, I know why you said that-- because I...

Because some thoughtless fool said that to you once.

But it isn't true-- because...

you have an incredible skill set, honed with experience and knowledge and-and value, and that's why I came here to you now.

Because if my life is on the line, which it is, then I need Cabe Gallo on the case.

Still ready with the Taser, Chief.

At ease, Sergeant.

What are we dealing with?

A driver's leg is pinned by the console.

His vehicle is jammed between a car and a one-ton truck.

We're gonna need an auto specialist.

I know the world's best mechanic, Happy Quinn.

You mean the host of The Happy Mechanic podcast?

Podcast?

No.

She works for...

[clears throat]

Yes.

That's her.

That's who I mean.

Well, if you get her to lend a hand, I'm in.

She broadcasts from a garage downtown.

Saddle up.

I'll drive.

Happy: This '67 Mustang Shelby GT-- they call it the Eleanor-- has a 351 engine with 435 horsepower and tops out at 150 miles per hour.

And if you are looking for a place to open up some sweet rides, look no further than this week's sponsor, the San Dimas Raceway.

For $199, you get one hour of track time for your favorite gearhead.

[ringtone playing "Here Comes The Bride"]

What the hell?

Cut!

That girl's everywhere.

Like sriracha.

You just ruined our recording.

I'm sorry, is there a problem here, Officer?

This guy thinks there is.

I think he's a few quills short of a porcupine, if you ask me.

Hi.

My name is Walter.

There was a car accident.

We are looking for the world's best engineer-- that's you.

I'd love to help, but I'm busy recording my Christmas episode.

Biggest ad revenues of the year.

We have coffers to fill.

Happy, I know that you think you don't know me, but in another world, we're really good friends.

Actually, we were married once.

Not like that.

It was for citizenship.

Never got physical.

Couldn't close the deal, huh?

Good-bye, Crazy Walter.

Now, since you let yourselves in, you can let yourselves out.

Happy, hold on a second.

Please, just hold...

one second...

No, you hold on.

I have built this show from the ground up, on my own, by myself, with no one's help.

And you are screwing it up.

Now, don't let the door hit you in the ass.

Ray: All right, you walk out of here without her, the coroners walk out of your garage in just a few minutes.

Okay, let's pick it up from the Tobias Curtis ad.

Huh?

You know what, I'm not leaving.

Oh, I would call the cops, but they're already here, doing nothing.

Happy, you take pride in doing things on your own, by yourself, without anybody's help.

But...

I know you.

At night, you slow down your work so that you're still here when Patty leaves so that you can talk to someone while you walk to your car.

Do you do that, boss?

Happy: Shut up.

How do you know that?

Because when you started working with me, I saw you working slowly.

I critiqued you.

And you were scared of losing your job, so it forced you to tell me the truth.

You hate being alone.

Period.

I've never worked with you, but...

why do I still feel like you're telling the truth?

Because we're friends.

I'd never lie to you.

Now, I know that you've spent your whole life trying to be the lone wolf.

But in spite of, uh, your successful show and these fancy cars and everything, you want a family more than anything, because that's something that you never had.

And this guy, the guy you're about to read the ad for, Tobias Curtis, he is the love of your life.

You just don't know it yet.

And-and I-I can bring you two together.

I already have.

I've introduced you before, actually.

You married him because of me.

I thought you said she was married to you.

He looks like a jackass.

There is something about him.

Okay, I'm in.

Okay.

Great.

I'll set it up.

Uh, you have to come with us first.

[groans]

Ray: Whoa, whoa.

You're okay.

That's just reality creeping in.

Toby: Keep going.

It'll relieve the pressure on his brain.

Okay, okay.

Paige says she's on her way.

Oh, I think I'm gonna be sick.

Happy: Is this uncomfortable for you?

'Cause I'm the one who's drilling an 1/8-inch bit into my boss's skull.

Just a little bit further.

Uh, what is that smell?

Microparticles from Walter's skull.

I came as soon as I heard.

What's going...

[gags]

This isn't the way I left it.

Told ya.

Things change around here.

Walter: The truck was right beside the car.

And the other vehicle's missing.

That ain't how physics works.

And you should know, being a physics professor.

I'm not a physics professor.

All right, all right.

He likes to shout out things he isn't.

He also isn't married to someone named Florence.

The frame won't support the weight of this truck much longer.

This jalopy's gonna be a pancake in minutes.

[creaking]

Is that your twin or something?

Would you believe me if I said it was me?

No.

[creaks loudly]

Okay, make that seconds.

From an engineering standpoint, that is a very negative sound.

This guy needs to be extracted, or he's gonna be squashed like a bug.

Please!

Please help me!

Don't say that in front of this guy!

Happy: I'm being blunt.

It's part of my charm.

Just focus on the task at hand.

All right, stand back.

I'm gonna blow this window, and we'll pull him free.

Okay, the car's integrity will be compromised, and it'll all come down in a heap.

Walter: She's right.

It's a house of cards.

And that house is collapsing.

Okay, to buttress a failing structure, we need stilts, a crutch.

Oh, how 'bout those?

Film canisters.

We used 'em once to prop up an eroding nuke with Paige's mother.

I don't know Paige, I don't know her mother, and I don't know why I'm listening to a madman.

Ray: Uh, Walt, that didn't happen in this world.

You just sound crazy.

Placement is key.

Follow my direction.

[grunts]

Okay, here, here, and there.

♪ ♪ Cabe: No creaking.

[creaks]

Well, less creaking.

Happy: A light breeze could blow it over.

It's too precarious for a two-ton truck.

Two-ton?

It's a one-ton truck.

Guess again, man.

Cargo.

There is no cargo.

Cinder blocks?

What the hell?

If you say things change around here, I'm gonna knock you out.

That means our calculations are off.

We are back to square one on how to pry open the driver's door without shifting the load and weakening the frame.

Well, run the numbers again.

In real time?

To pull that off, you'd have to be a human calculator.

Walter: That's it.

We need Sylvester Dodd.

Yeah.

Might as well grab Zuckerberg and Elon Musk while you're at it.

Sylvester Dodd is a great guy.

He asked me to assist with some of his charity work today.

He'll help us out.

Do you know where to find him?

Everyone knows where to find him.

You'll just never get to see him.

Why?

I'm sorry, Mr.

Dodd is unavailable.

I can't deal with you anymore today.

She doesn't look familiar to you?

Nope.

Please depart the premises, or I'll have to call security.

Well, go for it.

Because we're not leaving until we talk to Sylvester.

Ray: I'm not leaving till I get to level four.

Sir, I need you and your friend to vacate the premises.

I know you.

You're Sly's wizard pal who still lives with his mother.

One, you need to go now.

Two, who I live with is my concern.

Let's go.

Walter: Sly's coding problem.

Games, they all have a glitch.

Let's go.

Tell him...

tell him I can fix his glitches.

Sly!

Sly?

Dyfrost: That's enough.

Keep moving.

I can fix your glitches!

[phone rings]

Sly, I can fix your glitches!

Yes, Mr.

Dodd?

Right away, sir.

Sly!

Sly, I can fix your glitches!

Stop!

Mr.

Dodd will see them now.

Can I get you a bottle of water?

Sylvester: Look, the pad has sweet indoor/outdoor flow, but, bro.

We're only talking 6½ baths.

No, no, no, no, no, bro.

Nice digs.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

I'll spend $150 million, not a penny more.

I can't believe it.

Sly's become a jackass.

Holler at me when it's done.

[clears throat]

Sorry, bros.

Keep trying to buy a sick new crib, but they keep upping the price since Criss Angel used to own it.

Sylvester, we need your help.

Hold on.

Names, broseph?

Walter O'Brien.

Uh, there has been an accident.

We'll get to that.

What I want to know is...

why'd you say that all my games have a glitch?

What's up with that?

He seems to know a lot about me, too.

Are you The Happy Mechanic?

I listened to you after I bought my Maybach.

Great.

Another L.A.

tool driving a quarter-million dollar car down Sunset at 20 miles per hour.

My chauffeur doesn't seem to mind.

Walter: Sylvester, it doesn't matter how I know about your glitch.

I know you.

You're a perfectionist, so you wake up every morning sick to your stomach that you built this whole place on the back of a mistake.

[whispers]: A mistake that only you know about.

But for a man who loves numbers because of the certainty it gives in an uncertain world, a small error, e-even one that causes only the skip of 1/1,000 of a frame, is a cause of shame.

You just rocked my world, Broklahoma.

Now, this is a fix for your code.

And let me tell you something.

Your refusal to let go of the wonderment of childhood, how you look at the-the world with open eyes?

Your innocence is your brilliance.

Anybody that tries to tell you any different is dead wrong.

Holy smokes.

I could really use your help.

I'll give you anything you need.

Cabe, we're on our way.

Get the lead out, Mr.

O'Brien.

This situation's going sideways.

These canisters can't hold the truck anymore.

It's collapsing on the car.

Sylvester: The car is pitching 5/8 of an inch too far back.

Chief, get him to engage the e-brake.

That'll move the car forward a bit, buy us some time.

Kid!

You got to engage the emergency brake.

It'll allow the car to move forward an inch and a half.

Oh, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die.

Keep it together, kid.

It's not gonna happen.

I can't.

I can't.

My...

My heart, it's b*ating so fast.

His heart's b*ating too fast.

Is it over?

Toby: Yeah.

Fluid's exiting the hole, pressure's going down.

His heart rate should return to normal.

Sleeping Beauty's back with us.

Is he gonna be okay?

Not if his heart rate doesn't go down.

Florence: I thought the point of Swiss-cheesing his head was to stabilize him.

Crap!

The pressure at his brain stem isn't reducing fast enough.

Uh, Sly, keep track of his pulse.

Look, I'm gonna need you to do some math while I stimulate his vagus nerve to lower his cardiac rate.

160 BPM.

That's way too fast.

We need 80.

Um, how about now?

130.

That's 37.5% of the needed reduction.

You need to increase the circular motion of your finger by 266.67%.

How do I do that?

Go faster, dummy.

[gasping]

Cabe: Kid's breathing heavy.

He's having a panic att*ck.

I can't get him to calm down.

If I can't get him to calm down, I can't get him to focus to pull the emergency brake.

He's gonna die.

And then I die.

Don't ask.

Okay, need to get his heart rate down.

Ah!

I know who can calm him down.

We need to get to Toby Curtis.

The self-help huckster?

He's a fraud.

From my understanding he's my future husband, so take it easy.

Okay, uh, Sly, talk to the police chief.

He'll get you to the crash site.

Happy and I will go find Toby.

His ad said he's playing at the San Dimas Civic Center.

I'll drive.

Great.

The 10 should be clear this time of day.

The 10?

It got crushed when that British satellite hit it with a laser.

Duh.

Satellite laser?

Scorpion prevented that.

Not here, you didn't.

Synergy.

Mobility.

Tranquility.

My father was a gambler.

He was always broke.

But in between dodging bookies and loan sharks, he would take me to the high school near us in Coney Island.

There's no betting lines on high school games.

Just a father and a son watching baseball.

Okay, he's kind of cute.

Shh.

Mr.

Curtis is rehearsing.

Of course.

When they tore down that high school, I made sure I got seats 23 and 24.

They were our seats.

That is my happy place, but we don't always need a physical reminder.

We all have the power to create our happy places in our minds.

Ray: I get it.

The chairs are a metaphor for baseball.

I'm sorry, you all need to go.

We need to talk to Dr.

Curtis.

Absolutely not.

Excusez-moi.

Why are you interrupting my rehearsal?

Because we need the world's smartest behaviorist to save a life.

First off, your assessment of me?

Absolutely correct.

Second...

I save lives every day with my wisdom.

But that wisdom costs a ticket.

I don't see you holding one.

Hey, putz.

We've got a guy in a car wreck who's dead if you don't calm him down.

Wow, you're beautiful.

What is your name?

Happy.

Walter: But she's not just Happy.

She's your happy place.

Something that you're in...

you're in desperate need of.

Are you kidding me, pal?

Look, I got millions in the bank, five best sellers, and my own plane.

So...

Yeah, yeah.

You finally got the world to see how brilliant the Harvard-trained psychiatrist is, but, deep down, you're miserable.

No, I'm not.

I-I got my chairs.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

Two chairs.

Only one butt.

But here...

here is your seat filler.

Toby: I'd really like to go to dinner with you if possible.

I'd grab a meal with you.

Walter: If you want to spend the rest of your life sitting next to her, then please, Toby.

Please help us.

I'll help.

[tires screech]

Toby: I'm gonna talk to the guy in the car, you guys figure out how to undo this jigsaw puzzle.

I was thinking of some ideas on the way here.

Everyone listen up.

Sylvester: As long as your idea is to shift the passenger door open to a 45 degree angle, then I'm all ears.

Will you let me talk before you start throwing out theories?

Which are wrong, by the way.

Anything more than 41 degrees, and we have a human pancake.

Hey, how about we avoid "human pancake" while I'm trying to calm the accident victim.

That's what I said to her earlier.

It's part of my charm.

Are you sure this is my happy place?

Guys, can we please work together?

[creaking]

Car Walter: Please, help me, help me!

Please, help me!

You know, this guy looks just like you.

Who the hell is in charge here?

I am.

Now, if you would please just let me do my thing...

No.

I'm in charge.

Now, Toby, can you calm him down?

Sly, make the calculations, and Happy, effectuate a solution using Sly's conclusions.

Who made you the boss, Barack Bro'bama?

I made me boss.

I am your boss.

I've been boss.

Now please, just listen to me.

Whatever.

Open the door at the angle that I say.

Sylvester: 45 degrees.

41, or I'll cram those stupid glasses up your gaming console.

You know, when they get like this, there's only one person who can get them to work together.

You're right.

I need Paige.

All right, well, this is no Kovelsky's, but it's all right.

Is that where you were planning on taking me?

A greasy spoon?

Don't sweat it, pork pie.

We'll make it work.

Yeah, something tells me we will.

Get a room.

[bell dings]

Order up.

Uh, excuse me.

Hi, uh-- oh, here we go.

Hi, Patty.

Patricia, actually.

Go by "Trish." Trish.

Okay, listen, I need information.

There's a waitress here, Paige Dineen.

When's her shift start?

Waitress?

She owns the place.

Mr.

Elia.

You're here.

Wish I wasn't.

This thing's ancient.

Do I know you?

I set your router up in Pacoima?

No.

But we've discussed at length your idea for a hybrid solid-state drive incorporating crystal laser optics.

Crystal laser optics.

That could work.

I'll jot some notes down on that.

Tell Paige I had to run.

Of course.

Hey, where's the tech guy going?

He hasn't finished.

Paige?

Can I help you?

Yeah.

In fact, you're the only one who can.

Ralph, no mess, please.

Hey, buddy.

How are you...?

Paige: Um, excuse me.

Do you know my son?

Uh, listen, I could waste my time telling you about how, in another life, I know him, and I know you, and that you've helped me out more than anybody in the world, but...

you wouldn't believe it, so saying so would be inefficient.

But all I can tell you is that my team and I, we need your help, and we know that you'll come through because of your heart, and your kindness, and your decency.

I know it sounds cray.

Ralph.

Get Fernando from the kitchen, tell him to bring the big Kn*fe.

No, no, no, no, no.

We don't need Fernando and his big Kn*fe, we're not insane.

We just need you.

Look, pal, I didn't get to own a chain of restaurants by listening to every goofball who propositions me.

So get out of here before I call the cops.

The real cops.

Walter: Okay, okay.

You can toss me out, but...

...you'll be hurting your son.

Because I know how every night, you pray that he'll find someone that's like him, someone who can mentor his gifts, someone who'll make him feel like he belongs.

I am that person.

So please, before you ask me how I know, can I...

can I prove to you that I'm not nuts?

Hey, buddy.

[sniffs]

Checkmate.

See, he's not making a mess.

He's just waiting for someone who understands him to play with.

What kind of help do you need?

Cabe: I got LAPD to block the roads from here to County-- he'll get to the hospital in half the time.

Dear Lord.

Not good, Cabe.

Really, really not good.

Okay, get him to edge his car a little bit further.

Toby, talk him through releasing the parking brake.

Wow.

Back five seconds, you're already just bossing me around, huh?

Cabe: That crap again?

Let's get the job done.

I already did my job.

I did the calculations.

I should be snowboarding by now.

These guys are animals.

That's why I need you.

When you told Ralph to stop making a mess, he listened to you instantly.

You know how to control genius minds.

That's your gift, and there's someone in that car who I cannot let die.

Toby: Stick with me.

You're gonna be fine.

Just take a deep breath.

There you go.

I'm not even gonna ask.

Please.

We need to save him.

Okay, dorks, listen up.

You want to have a brain-measuring contest, now is not the time.

Each of you has abilities the others don't have, so you all get to be the best, but only if you save this guy.

He dies, then you are just as useless as any other 100-IQ human out there.

You gonna let that happen?

You gonna be ordinary?

No way.

Hell no.

I don't know how to spell "ordinary" I mean, I mean, I do-- it's not a hard word, I just...

Get to work.

Yeah.

Hey, can you do me a favor?

Just pull on that parking brake.

Can you do that?

You're masterful.

There you go, buddy, there you go.

Thank you.

[echoes]: Oh, my God, Walter!

Why isn't the ambulance here yet?

Because we live in L.A.

It's been 12 minutes, they'll be here any second.

[gasping softly]

Ah, damn.

It's a pulmonary edema.

His erratic breathing is causing his lungs to fill with fluid.

This is a problem.

Guys, we got a problem.

What is that stuff?

Help, it's filling the car!

Happy: It wasn't there a second ago, and now the car's half-filled.

What the hell's going on, pal?

All: Things change around here.

Listen, whatever I say, you're thinking.

Just to be safe, you are pretty close to suffocating in there.

You better do something.

Fast.

Can't we just smash the windows and let it all pour out?

Any dramatic shift in weight, and the truck crushes him to death.

I know what that purple stuff is-- it's homemade ballistic gel.

My girlfriend and I, at the time, were trapped in a box of it.

Kinky.

How'd you get out?

Blew ourselves up.

We need to blow up the car.

Won't that k*ll you?

Um, him?

Whatever.

The non-Newtonian fluid will shield him from impact while the frame of the car gets blown out.

Plus, I...

I trust you guys.

I need you guys.

expl*si*n's too big, the doppelganger you gets blown to bits.

It's too small, he drowns.

So we need perfect calculations.

I'm on it.

Where do we find a b*mb, nutjob?

You're gonna make it.

Siphon some gas from our car and then grab a jar and some wires from, uh, from that Dumpster over there.

And then build a timer from a watch.

Done and done.

Well, we got one hiccup.

For this to work, we need his head submerged in the gel to absorb the blast.

He's already a nervous wreck.

You can talk him through it.

Copy that.

Hey, pal.

You're gonna have to trust us.

Let that stuff overtake you and then just hold your breath for a few seconds.

No, no, no, I can't.

I can't.

Like hell you can't 'cause you want to get out of there, right?

You want to get out of there so you can get home and mingle with Kris Kringle.

You and your family and friends-- spending Christmas with loved ones, that's all that matters, right?

That's right.

That's right.

b*mb's done, ready to rumble.

Okay, hit it, hit it.

Ten seconds!

Ray!

Get out of there!

I'm not real, man.

Don't injure.

Move your ass!

Happy: Three...

two...

one!

Thought you were a mechanical genius?

Ah, don't worry, this happens on every adventure we have.

Oh, crap, it's still happening.

It's not the hello I was looking for.

Guys, guys, he's awake!

Oh, hey.

How do you feel?

My head hurts.

Makes sense, you did take a half gainer down the stairs.

And a drill bit into your skull.

Cabe: Yeah, but you still got through it.

Way to be tough.

You guys can see him?

How can you miss him with that shirt?

I'm so confused.

Sylvester: When the ambulance pulled up, Ray was hanging out in the alley.

Ralph: He didn't have anywhere to stay for Christmas.

I had a lot of options.

Garage was just the only one that had food.

I was alone when I fell.

Cabe: Flo came in to give you some peppermint bark, she found you, called 911 and then us.

She saved your life.

I had the strangest dream.

You all helped save me.

Paige: Scorpion to the rescue again, huh?

Walter: No.

No, we weren't Scorpion.

Cabe was chief of police at the LAPD.

Sweet.

And Happy hosted a-a podcast on rare sports cars.

Happy: Nice.

Walter: And, Sly, you-you were a video game mogul.

Toby, you were a-a famous motivational speaker.

And, Paige, you-you, uh, owned a-a restaurant empire.

I'm so sorry I told you all that I didn't, I didn't need you.

Well, the truth is, my subconscious knows that the opposite is true.

You'd...

...you'd do better without me.

Toby: Answer this, 197.

Did we all know each other in your dream?

Hmm...

Happy was lonely; you were hanging onto an old memory for happiness, and, Sly, you were, you were living in shame.

By the way, I have the-the fix for your game.

And, Cabe, you were grumpy and you didn't have any friends at work.

Toby: But you said that we all saved your life.

Deep down, your psyche knows that we're better together.

You know that you need us, but you also know that we need each other, that we need you, Walter.

We were successful in your dream because you think highly of us.

[knock on door]

Hey, the food's here.

Give me a hand.

[whispering]: Toby, come here.

Get her a day at the San Dimas Raceway.

That's brilliant.

[whispering]: Happy.

Get him two baseball seats from his high school in Coney Island.

Yes.

Crazy dream, huh?

Anything else happen in it?

Florence: Hey, hi.

Is the patient able to see one more visitor?

Cabe: There she is.

The gal of the hour.

All right!

[all cheering, whooping]

I got a new tin of peppermint bark 'cause I dropped mine when I was, um, when I was startled.

Hello, Walter.

Hi.

Hello, Florence.

Thank you.

So, tell me more about this dream.

Oh.

There's nothing to tell.

The best part was getting to meet you...

for the very first time all over again.

Merry Christmas, Paige.

Merry Christmas.