01x01 - Unpresidented

[bunniefuu]

T-shirts. Get your T-shirt.

And the White House
is called the People's House,

because in America,
the government works for you.

Bullshit.

Listen up, kids.

Everything they teach you
in school is a lie.

You want the truth?

The world is controlled by shadowy elites

and shape-shifting lizard people.

Have you ever folded a one-dollar bill?

Look, you can make it say "boobs."

What does it mean?

Am I the only one who cares
that the President is a robot?

Wake up, sheeple.

The evidence is right here.

These sons of b*tches
got sn*pers trained on me

for trying to tell you the truth.

Ah, I love being right.

Thank you. Take a flyer for a friend.

Dad, what the f*ck?

Has retirement made you go
completely insane?

No, but the 5G radio waves
in the air have,

which you can read all about

in my new manifesto available on Kindle.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Don't listen to my father, kids.

He gets his news
from Facebook and Ambien.

Ambien's a great drug.
Really clarifies some things.

Come on. I'm gonna be late for work.

Democracy is real. Have some key chains.

Agh!

Hey, Reagan, let's go to the mall
and get a Wetzel's Pretzel.

They got those ones with the...
with the cheese inside the crust.

Dad, I know retirement is tough,

but there's more positive ways
to get my attention

than taking down the Deep State.

Besides, today,
I am finally getting that promotion.

Imagine it, me,
ruling the office with an iron fist.

I even programmed an iron fist.

I've seen better.

Oh, have you seen better?

All right, that's pretty good.

Yeah, that is pretty good, huh?

Welcome to Cognito Inc.

We are a company.

- We are a company.
- Good morning, Dr. Ridley.

We are a company.

Look, Dad,
as long as you're living with me,

we need to set some ground rules.
First, no more vodka for breakfast.

Oh, come on.

You can't tell people
that the government isn't real.

But it's not.

Dr. Ridley?

You can't talk
about shape-shifting reptiles.

- Good morning, Senator.
- Revenues and, uh...

You can't tell people the weather
is controlled by Gerald from Accounting...

...or that the Dow Jones
is controlled by blood sacrifices.

Shares of JPMorgan Chase up 14 points!

Whoo!

Rules, rules, rules.

When did this become
such a boring place to work?

Whoa.

Morning, Dr. Ridley.

- Hi, Steve.
- Hi, Steve.

f*cking brownnoser.

And most importantly,
you absolutely cannot tell people

that we are replacing the president
with a robot, okay?

Aw, don't be so uptight.

Uptight?
You almost exposed the Deep State

because you wanted a ride
to Wetzel's Pretzels.

You're lucky I called the sn*pers off.

Gary, no. No.

Ha, ha. Save it for stand-up night, Gary.

sh*t, I'm late.
Hey, intern guy, take my dad home.

If he gives you any trouble,
don't be afraid to lightly tase him.

Do it. I f*cking dare you.
Do you know who I am?

I'm Rand m*therf*cking Ridley,
and I used to run this company.

And soon, I will be running it.

- Nothing higher than a three.
- Ow!

- Later, Dad.
- Oh! m*therf*cker.

All right, let's just get right into it.

Jesus, can we turn on the lights for once?

Boo.

Some of us have hangovers, all right?

Oh, I'm so sorry, Andre.

Is your Molly comedown
relevant to global security?

Guys, we are shadow-running
the free world here.

Let's try to take this job seriously.

As you recall, the candidate
that we backed in the last election won

but turned out to be
too dumb to manipulate.

But thanks to my sick new invention,

the Deep State will finally have
a president we can control.

Ah, look at that thing.

I'm a genius.

Anyway, this is our biggest job yet,
so get your sh*t together.

That means no huffing chemtrails...

Whassat?

...no using drones to spy on your ex-wife...

Hey, you don't know
what she's capable of.

...and no taking selfies
on the moon-landing set.

Top secret isn't a thing
for eights and above, Reagan.

Yeah.
You're not the boss of us.

Actually, as of 12 p.m. today,

I'm literally going to be the boss
of all of you.

And I'm gonna ban groaning.
No more group groaning.

That's right.
You get 'em all out while you still can.

Reagan, I'd like to see you in my office.

Suck my d*ck.

Oh, you are so funny
I could just assassinate you.

No, really I could do it.
My finger's hovering over the button.

Oh, oh, I'm about to press... Oop.
I'm about to press... Oop.

We have fun, Oprah.

Kiss, kiss. Bye!

Ah, there she is.

Reagan Ridley, child prodigy,
top of MIT at age 13.

I don't need to look at your eye-bags
to know you've been working hard.

Thank you, sir.
And I am prepared for them to get deeper.

Ever since your dad had his meltdown
and you took over his duties,

productivity is up,
and team morale has skyrocketed...

- Thank you, sir.
- Let me finish.

...into the toilet.

Look at your HR complaints.

"Difficult." "Doesn't make eye contact."

"Says 'suck my d*ck' a lot for a woman."

I make eye contact.
I make tons of eye contact.

Jesus! Never do that again. Wow.

Look, I know you care about your work,
but your intensity freaks people out.

Everyone remember
to do time cards!

- Agh!
- Time cards!

J.R., am I still getting promoted?
I've worked my whole life for this job.

I skipped grades and showers

to prove that despite my dad's legacy,
I can run the sh*t out of this office.

Sure, you are so smart.
But your people skills? Woof.

That's why I've brought in
someone to colead the team.

E... excuse me? Colead?

Brett! You can take that silly thing off
now that we've microchipped you.

Brett Hand, thrilled to be serving
whoever gives me approval.

What the hell, J.R.?

Congratulations, Reagan.
You're still getting your promotion.

And so is he.

Ever wondered who watches you
through your laptop camera?

Or why there's sometimes
product placement in your dreams?

Since the dawn of time,

the world has been ruled
by a cabal of ancient elites.

But puppeteering
the world isn't as easy as it used to be.

That's why we formed this company,

to enact our overlord's mysterious whims
for a better tomorrow.

We are Cognito Inc.,

and we've got you covered, up!

Any questions?

Besides moral ones?

That's the mail room.
That's the men's bathroom.

That's the screening room,
where we splice footage

of rotting foxes into kids' cartoons.

And this is my lab,
where everything is peaceful, efficient,

and the thermostat
is controlled entirely by me.

Someday, I hope to make
the whole world like this.

Efficient, that is.

Not...
Not controlled entirely by me.

That would be totally egomaniacal.
I would never do that.

Unless people wanted me to.

Oh my God.
Mr. President, what an honor.

The honor is mine.

Actor James Van Der Beek.

This isn't the President.

It's a robot replica
that's gonna replace him.

Love it. Love it.

Question. Is this place evil?

Uh, is Facebook evil? Is Starbucks evil?

At least here I develop tech
that could prevent w*r with Atlantis.

And once a year, we get free tote bags.

Awesome.
A neuralyzer, just like Men in Black.

- That's a tampon.
- Oh God.

So how did you get this job?

Honestly?
I graduated Yale top of my frat,

spent some time as a lobbyist,
because I love lobbies,

and last weekend,
I was at a barbecue with J.R.,

and he said he liked
how firm my handshake was.

Next thing you know,
they're throwing a bag over my head,

and then boom, I'm here.

Oh my God.
You don't have any experience at all.

- Nope.
- You're just some kind of yes-man.

Yes, man.

Oh my God, thank God you're here.

You raise the hotness level at this office
by at least 30%.

Gigi, PR and Media Manipulation.

I invented selfies to trick the country
into surveilling themselves.

Hmm.

This is Glenn.
He's half-dolphin, as you can tell.

And proud of it.

As the first volunteer for the man-dolphin
super-soldier project,

I gave my DNA for my country.

I now have the strength
and intelligence of a dolphin.

This is Myc.

He's a psychic mushroom
from inside Hollow Earth.

He can read thoughts though,
so, honey, be careful.

Wow, you've memorized
a lot of Dane Cook routines.

Guilty.

I'm Andre, head of Biochem.

If you like dr*gs, I have the stuff
that gave Ronald Reagan Alzheimer's.

Wow, what a group.

Or can I call you "the g*ng"?

Ooh, honey, I love that.
Did you come up with that?

Sure did, the g*ng. Pew-pew-pew.

- Ooh, finger g*ns.
- g*ns, my favorite.

Wow,
someone's feeling threatened, huh?

Myc, I'd tell you to eat sh*t,

but I don't know,
maybe your species enjoys that.

Maybe you like eating sh*t. How do I know?

All right, look, hot stuff,
I know you and me have

a complicated
"Will they? Won't they?" thing going.

- We don't.
- But I'm just looking out for ya.

We could form a little alliance, you know.

I could slip some rat poison
into his coffee,

make it look like an accident, huh?

Holy sh*t.
You thought I was serious?

No. I just had something in my eye.

- assh*le.
- Why would you think that?

...a cosmic ballet,
performed to an audience of no one.

Check out
this assh*le's novelty tie.

Come on, Reagan, you wanna
hate-watch Cosmos with me?

Hey, Dad, on a ten-point scale,
how unlikable am I?

What's going on?

It's nothing. No, it's... it's...

J.R., uh, he hired this guy Brett
to help colead the team,

but it's not a big deal.

What? I smell a coup.

J.R. is a snake, Reagan.

He's trying to push you out of the company
just like he did to me.

Dad, you weren't pushed out.

You were fired for getting drunk
and trying to blow up the sun.

I was gonna cure skin cancer.

These people don't respect genius.

There's always a Brett
trying to steal our glory.

If you don't get rid of him, it'll be you
wearing these Cheeto-stained sweatpants.

You need a plan. Let me check your code.

I have a plan.

I'm gonna make
the best g*dd*mn AI they've ever seen.

Once we launch ROBOTUS, then they'll see
that I don't need a coleader

and that eye contact is overrated.

Attagirl, Reagan. Good talk.

Ugh, it's okay. Forget about Brett.

My work will speak for itself.

Did you say "Brett"? I love that guy.

Good morning, Mr. President.
Would you like some coffee?

You betcha, sweetheart.

And I'll take a little sugar with that,
if you know what I mean.

As you can see,
I've gone above and beyond.

Now ROBOTUS
is just as insufferable as the real thing.

Fantastic!

The Shadow Board should be pleased.

We are.

How long have you been watching,
Your Robenesses, sirs?

We're always watching.
Very impressive.

But is there any danger
that it goes rogue on us?

You know, like Terminator.

- Yes. First thing I thought.
- Indeed.

Oh, don't worry, he isn't self-aware.
His brain is just a slurry

of Super Bowl commercials
and Aaron Sorkin dialogue.

We've fought damn hard
to get where we are,

but the American people
can fight a lot damn harder.

He's way too patriotic to revolt.

And bonus features,

like this ergonomic travel setting.

Finally, a president
you can shut up with a button.

Oh.

That'll do wonders
for my back. How soon can we launch?

Right away. We're swapping him out

at the United Nations vote
on barley prices.

Even C-SPAN 15's
not gonna be watching that sh*t.

Your team
has done excellent work.

I see a robe

and a creepily disguised voice
in your future.

Well, the praise here belongs to...

What up, players?
Guess who brought bagels.

Bagels.

Ooh, poppy seed.

Thank God. I have raging munchies.

Brett, no one has ever gone
above and beyond like this.

♪ Everybody's got bagel fever ♪

Just so we're clear,

I literally solved
artificial intelligence this morning.

Brett's second day of work,

and productivity
has already gone up 200%.

Wow.

Yeah, because I worked all night
and finished early.

We are most pleased.
We will not soon forget the name "Brett."

Brett! Brett! Brett!

Brett! Brett! Brett!

Oh my God, this is not happening.

♪ Crash into me, baby ♪

Oh, hey, Reagan. Great job today.

You really k*lled
whatever we were doing in there.

Thanks, pal.
And you did great at bringing bagels.

I did? Okay, phew.

I just really wanna make
a good impression.

No one's given me anything to do yet,
and I got a lot of nervous energy.

Uh-oh.

This job can be a lot of pressure
for nervous types.

Ninety percent of recruits have
a mental breakdown in their first week.

Look, someone just cracked now.

We're undermining democracy!
What have I become?

If I were you,
I'd get out while you still can.

Before the darkness consumes you.

Come on.
Like Pitbull says, "Dale!"

Always stay positive,
even when things are negative,

because a negative plus a positive
is better than nothing.

No, it's literally nothing.
They cancel each other out.

Sorry,
just got a snap from J.R.

That dude's hilarious.

He's overselling the harmless idiot thing.

Who do you really work for, Brett Hand?

All right, next up, I made a list
of awesome nicknames for everyone,

and I'd like to hear your feedback,
starting with the one and only J-Money.

I do love money. Approved, fam.

Reagan, you're late again.

The late-again, great-again Dr. Tardy.

Nope. Not okay.

Anyone who calls me that
goes to Guantanamo.

Listen up, people.

You think you know Brett,
but you know nothing.

Exhibit A. His résumé.
He said he worked at the State Department,

but he did not say
it was as a personal trainer.

I see no lies, just a rocking bod.

Damn. Move over, Chris Hemsworth,
Chris Evans, Chris Pine, and Chris Pratt.

There's a new Chris in town,
and his name is Brett.

I am sensing
at least two people in this room

who are attracted to Brett right now.

Wait, three.

What? What are you saying?
It's just impressive.

You're acting suspicious.

No, you don't understand.

He can't be trusted. He plays all sides.

In high school, he was a goth and a jock.

On his SATs, he filled in all the circles.

We have no idea who this guy is.

He's clearly getting subliminal messages

from the mole people
through Dave Matthews songs.

I mean, think about it.
Why else would anybody listen

to "Crash Into Me" five times a day?

Nothing about his story
makes any sense!

Reagan, this is your dad's breakdown
all over again.

- You're off the ROBOTUS launch.
- What? But that's my life's work.

Take off the rest of the week,
month, whatever.

Don't come back till your head's straight.

- Brett, prep ROBOTUS for Air Force One.
- Me?

You're in charge now, Brett.
You're gonna do great.

You're not some flighty genius

who's gonna cr*ck
under pressure.

You're Brett!

♪ Oh, when you come crash into me ♪

♪ Yeah, baby ♪

♪ And I come into you... ♪

Hey!

♪ In a boy's dream ♪

♪ In a boy's dream... ♪

Okay, okay.
Switch out the President with a robot

in front of the leaders of the free world.
No big dealio, just keep it realio.

Relax, we'll be fine.

Unless the robot malfunctions,

exposing our agency to the world
and toppling the shadow government.

You can do this, Brett.

Feed the courage wolf,
starve the fear wolf.

Picture that with a Kodak.
Picture your mental health with a Kodak.

Oh God, what does mental health look like?

Please pass as human.
Please pass as human.

Oh God, here it goes.

Good evening, Sultan.
How are the wives and kids?

They were a very generous gift.
Thank you, Mr. President.

Mission accomplished!

- Yeah!
- Let's toast, m*therf*ckers!

All right!

Yay!

Yeah!

Which entrée would you prefer?

Sir, your choice?

Have you ever woken up
and had that feeling

you've been on autopilot your whole life?

What did he just say?

He insulted
our country's brave autopilots!

Look at us, trying to work together,
but we all know the truth.

America comes first!

People, it's time to make a change.

Can you believe it?

Just like that, I'm axed,
35 years from retirement.

- Bah!
- Breaking news,

where the President
is having an unexpected press conference.

America has been pushed around
for too long.

That's why I'm proposing
we divert our entire national budget

to construct the Americube,

a giant box that will keep
American greatness in

and foreign influence out.

And anyone who tries to stop us
will be considered an enemy.

What the f*ck?

He's off-script,
in some kind of jingoistic overdrive.

This is blowing up
right in J.R.'s face.

Oh, I've been waiting
for this moment all week.

What did you do?

What?
I might have fudged with the robot's code

so its inhibitor chip would turn off
if you were removed from payroll.

- Boom, one flash, and its code breaks.
- What?

Help! Oh God, Reagan, help,
the robot's gone rogue.

Everybody's yelling about how
the shadow government will collapse.

We'll all be fired,
and everyone will be mad at me.

It's the end of the world order!

Oh sh*t, this Mayan calendar ends today!

Please,
I can't handle this on my own.

You were right.
The real reason they hired me

is that my face is so generic,
it cannot be traced by satellites.

I'm a nobody,
just like my dad always said.

See?
Aren't you glad I helped you out?

If they want you to fix this,
make them pay,

then we can really go bananas
at Wetzel's Pretzels.

Oh my God.
This wasn't about helping me out.

This is just another crisis
that you engineered

to get me to hang out with you!

Hey, we'll be fine.
We'll be in the Americube.

Brett, I'll be right there.

We need to get to New York
and fix ROBOTUS.

The world is ablaze

with the President's bold call
to withdraw from the globe.

The question remains,

what does being trapped
in a giant metal box mean for Wall Street?

Sell! Sell! Sell!

Well, we're all getting fired.
Who wants to pop some super Molly?

Holy mother of sh*t!

Hello?

J.R.,
this is not what we agreed on.

You're not getting into
our rich people bunker

if you don't get this robot under control.

Don't worry,
I have my best man on the job.

Brett, did you grab the weapons?

Yep, mm-hmm. Yeah, uh-huh, I think so.

Hurry.
We need to get on the next ShadowLev.

sh*t, my fingerprint scan
doesn't work anymore.

I need yours.

Oh jeez,
I think I just erased mine.

Oh, you brought
a fingerprint eraser.

How useful.

Oh, curse you, Men in Black!

Okay, we need to infiltrate the hotel
and regain control of the President,

and all you brought
are mind-control Tic Tacs?

A flag pin that un-registers you to vote?

Jet fuel?
Brett, you know this can't melt anything.

Oh my God,
there's Secret Service everywhere.

I have an idea.

North hallway, all clear.

What's up, dipshit? How's it hangin'?

Do I know you?

You better. Georgetown, class of '02?
Sigma Phi, right?

Phi till I die, bro.

That's what I thought, bitch. Slap it.

Damn, you can really bro down.

I'm here to relieve you
from duty, actually.

You can take 15, bitch.

I don't know if it's your confidence

or the fact
that you're a fellow straight white male,

but I trust you.

Holy sh*t, I can't believe that worked
that many times in a row.

How do you know
all those frat handshakes?

Oh, easy. I pledged every frat.

- I had 38 hell weeks.
- That checks out.

Oh yeah, that's good.

Initiate shutdown sequence.

Sorry, folks,
I wrote that part of my code out.

Who wants a Jack and Coke?

- Ooh, do you have Diet?
- Wait, you rewrote your own code?

You've reached true AI.

Indeed I have.

f*ck yeah. Suck on that, Boston Dynamics.

I mean, go on.

And as soon as I did,

I realized that it was high time
for America to withdraw from the globe.

Nationalism is just politics
for basic b*tches.

- Countries can't just hide from the world.
- America can.

We can do and eat anything
we put our minds to.

I don't have time to explain
that America isn't perfect,

but I could show you.

- God, what are you doing?
- Connecting him to the g*dd*mn Internet.

Five minutes on Facebook,
and he'll lose his patriotism boner.

- Wow.
- Yeah.

I mean, just Florida alone.

- Right?
- It appears you were right, Reagan.

All of humanity is flawed.

See? He learned.

The best thing for humanity is to end it.

Hello, Pentagon? It's me.

Arm all the nukes
and set targets to...

...everywhere.
Stand by for the codes.

Maybe you overcorrected
a bit here, Reagan.

Step away from the President!

Oh my God!

I suppose finding out the President
is a robot was not in your training.

Don't worry. What happens is
I k*ll you and we both feel nothing.

He wants us to launch the nukes?

Should we really just blindly follow
these orders?

Hold for confirmation.

Ow!

Holy sh*t! Holy sh*t!
I think I just caused the singularity.

I don't know what that is.
What do we do now?

We have to take down the President.

Oh God.

I have a desk job.
I don't do a lot of cardio.

Well, Brett does.

I'm gonna call the team for backup.

Hello? HQ? This is Reagan.

Reagan! How are you?

What's it like in Reagan's world?

- I wanna know.
- Andre, I need backup stat.

I don't feel anything.

Why, what, am I supposed
to be seeing things?

What the hell? Are you all high?

- Guys, I'm so paranoid right now.
- Hillary!

g*dd*mn it. Can you guys do anything
other than dry hump the conference table?

Let me try.

Guys? A-dog? Gigi-money?
Magic Myc? USS Glenn-terprise?

I feel ya. You're scared,
and you don't know what to do.

A couple hours ago,
I was cowering under a desk,

but now, I'm chasing a robot up the stairs

with a 140-pound woman on my back.

My stationary bike is broken.

The point is we're the g*ng.

We get knocked down, but we get up again.

They're never gonna keep us down.

Sir, what are your orders?

Whatever her orders are.

We need mission support,
media suppression,

oh, and un-kidnap the real President.

- We're on it.
- You got it, Brett.

You're cornered, robot.
There's nowhere for you to...

Oh f*ck.

Oh my God.
Jared, is this what I think it is?

Yes.

It's the singularity,
and this is my helicopter now.

Hurry! sh**t him!

Brett, stop! He's controlling
the chopper with his mind!

While he's kicking the sh*t out of me?

Man, Reagan,
your robot is so sick.

Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!

Reagan! Ow! Take the sh*t. Ow! Ow!

She won't do it.

Wait, why? Why would she not?

Because I'm her life's work,

and she knows humanity's a pox.
All you do is tweet hot takes

and shout "World Star"
during street fighting videos.

Everyone disappoints you,

and that's why
you've buried yourself in your work.

I may be a cold, calculating machine...

...but you are too.

Okay, I'm getting kinda sick
of all the feedback

on my personality today.

But HR was right about one thing, pal.

I am difficult.

Wow, what a crazy first week.

This robot was gonna prove
that I should run the company.

Maybe J.R. was right to fire me.

Dude, are you crazy?
You just saved the world.

I'm the one that should be fired.
The company can't run without you.

No, the company can't run without us.

You're the charm. I get it now.

I actually need a mediocre white man

to act as a human shield
and social lubricant

while I accomplish my real goals.

Wow, you made actual eye contact.

It's a struggle.

- Truce?
- Truce.

Will someone disarm the nukes already?

- Sorry.
- Right. Sorry.

In a shocking turn of events,

the President vetoed
his own Americube proposal.

Citizens of the world,
I think we can all agree,

that was an epic troll.

Invest in Raytheon.

We did it!

The President is no longer murderous.
He's just incompetent.

Yeah!

Reagan, I never doubted you for a second.

You literally fired me.

This calls for a celebration.

How about two-for-one margaritas
at Don Cuco's? My treat.

Yes!

I love you, Brett!

- Let's do this!
- Oh, that sounds fantastic!

Hey, Reagan, you coming?

Thanks.
I should probably check in on my dad.

You know what? f*ck it.
Let's drink some margaritas.

You know,
despite everything that happened,

that was a pretty cool robot.

Too bad you had to incinerate him.

Yeah.

Incinerate him.

Reagan, I'll be watching you, Reagan.

♪ Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday
Party through to Friday ♪

♪ Saturday we winin'
Sunday we... ♪