♪ MAD 1x02 ♪ Trans-Bore-Mores; Groan Wars Original Air Date on September 13, 2010
-- sync by elderman -- -- for www.addic7ed.com --
Mad!
I am Optimus Prime,
and I send this message to all autobots.
If you need refuge, or just a place to crash for a few days, you can--
Optimus! Stop inviting giant robots to stay at my house.
I didn't invite any robots.
Really? I don't remember buying 7 new cars
and parking them in my living room.
Excuse us. I'll just leave.
Adios. Oh, boy.
All right, that's it.
You know, you need to get out of here.
It was fine when you were saving the earth and all, but it's--
what's that? The Decepticons are up to something
really, really important this time.
They want the, uh...
Rock of...
No-talent-tron.
Legend says its in some exotic location, maybe Paris.
I've always wanted to go to Paris.
Go by yourself. I'm not helping you
Chase down another random robo-trinket.
Fine. How are we getting to Paris?
By the power of your dad's wallet.
Uhh. This is getting kind of boring.
Ok, did I really need to pay for your flights?
I mean, he's a jet, for crying out loud.
Oops-a-daisy.
Autobots, roll out.
Seek good souvenirs and fine cheeses.
And the rock of no-talent-tron, right?
Sure. Why not?
So the eiffel tower told you
the rock was at my parents' time share in Hawaii?
He's one of our most trusted elders, Sam.
We don't question it.
Speaking of "we," who are these guys?
Are they even transboremores?
I mean, I think he's just a car.
Sam, 2 worlds at risk,
trust is the most precious resource.
Are you with us?
Sure. Great.
Be a pal and get me another coconut mist, will you?
All right, forget it. We're goin' home.
How did they get in my house?
Maybe they found the key under the mat.
There is no key under the mat.
Then it's probably that giant hole in your wall.
Ok, everyone and everything that is a robot, get out.
Let's go over to voltron's.
Hey, bro, thanks for lettin' me borrow your "iron giant" DVD. I really--
chill, man. There's a human here.
Oh, sorry. I mean, prepare to die, prime!
You'll never win, Megatron!
Yeah, you beat me. See ya.
Wow. That was close.
Good thing you're letting us live among you,
or else he would have captured the magical tree of--
I thought it was a rock. Huh?
Aaaah!
Let's say you've eaten a large mexican meal
before the long drive home.
There's a crap for that.
Or you have one of those bathrooms
that's within earshot of the people sitting in the living room.
There's a crap for that.
Or you go to a birthday party
and discover you shouldn't be having dairy.
Well, there's a crap for that, too.
Yep, there's a crap for just about anything.
The new ephonie.
It's all crap.
Mad.
And now it's time for ask a celebrity.
Dear miley Cyrus, do you do anything special
to prepare for a big show?
To ensure an electric performance,
I rub cats on myself...
And walk on a wool carpet.
Dear Simon cowell,
why are you always so grouchy?
Because my shoes are made of porcupines.
But why are the porcupines so grouchy?
Because we got Simon cowell on our backs.
Dear Shaun, how do you get your hair so long?
Every morning, I start fresh
by putting putty-dough in my chest
and then lowering my arms.
We interrupt this program
with some breaking news.
An octopus is trying to open a jar of peanut butter.
Ooh.
Hrrai!
Yaarh!
Peanut butter, is it worth it?
We now return you to your regularly scheduled program.
What if you met someone
who walked, talked, and looked just like you,
but wasn't you?
Who are you?
He's your brother, you idiot.
It's the season premiere of "how I met my brother."
Aah!
You do look a lot like me.
You're twin brothers. What don't you guys understand?
And it's a special day for everyone.
Happy Birthday!
It's my birthday.
It can't be. It's my birthday.
Am I in some kind of alternate reality?
You're brothers!
We're what?
"How I met my brother"
is cancelled.
Jargle.
It kills the germs that cause bad breath.
Ahh! Ohh!
Uggh! Ohh! Aah!
Aah! Aaaaah!
Uh, thank you.
We--we'll call you.
I don't know what you people want, man.
That's exactly what it sounds like when a germ gets killed.
I--I didn't go to 4 years of Juilliard for nothin'.
Has this ever happened to you?
Or this?
Hi. I'm Wolverine, and if there's one thing I hate,
it's cleaners that don't do their job.
That's why I designed the wolverclean,
a revolutionary new glove that'll make fighting dirt extra easy.
With its 3 grime-fighting attachments,
you'll be able to scrub...
Aah!
Brush...
Aah! Uhh.
And buffer.
Aah! Take the car, man.
Don't hurt me!
But don't just take my word for it.
Listen to these true believers.
I love it.
My armor's the shiniest it's ever been.
It's fantastic.
The wolverclean got into areas even I couldn't reach.
I hate it. It punctured my armor
and nearly sliced my arm off.
Wait. That was Wolverine. What did you say?
The wolverclean? Oh, oh, I love the wolverclean.
Plus, if you decide to keep it, I'll send you
the wolversteam. It can get out
all of your toughest stains. Urrh?
Remember, I'm the best at what I do,
and what I do is clean your house.
The wolverclean, on sale now.
Hey, this is kind of awkward to ask,
but why did you defriend me on spacenook?
Well, because you wrote
"vroot dpp Dee Dee doop dweet thwaah"
on my wall.
Dude, my mom reads my wall.
Mad!
Aah!
Aai!
Uhh!
5 more minutes.
Bounty hunters, enemy fighters, and fancy cgi
can't save these characters from looking just as wooden as Pinocchio,
who, on a secret mission, leads the jedi
against the evil count poopoo.
You have learned much, master occhio.
I'm full of surprises, poopoo.
I take it that's a lie.
Ah, no, Pinocchio.
Why you no have more midi-chlorinis?
Take him away.
Then give poopoo a nice diagonal wipe.
Rex, we've got to get those plans.
Yeah, I'm actually spot. That's Rex.
Oh. Sorry, spot. Actually, I'm checkers.
Uhh. I hate working with clones.
Give it up, poopoo.
Your army is on its last legs.
Says who?
Well, for starters, that last battle droid
is just a repurposed spell & check.
Spell "coruscant." C--
this is where poopoo starts to run.
Manakin, poopoo's escaping.
Sudoku! Yes, master?
Prepare to catch poopoo.
Ughh. I hate his name,
but I love lasagna.
Wait till you get a load of me.
I think the gardener's here.
I'm the bounty hunter known as bad name.
Guessing "bad outfit" was already taken.
"I guess that 'bad outfit' was already taken."
Old jedi mind trick.
It wasn't a jedi mind trick.
I was clearly mocking you.
But I am free for landscaping and general lawn care.
No? Not interested?
Then die!
What's the news, poopoo?
Actually, you're in the potato salad.
What?! Oh, gross.
Did you g-get the plan--
uh, my lord, you seem to be breaking up a bit.
Huh? Oh, sorry.
I'm microwaving a burrito.
Not to worry, my lord.
Soon the entire galaxy will be yours to rule.
Rule? Who wants to rule it?
I want to own it.
You have any idea what the toy rights are worth?
Then what are these plans for?
Duh. An amusement park.
But what about the senate and the--
blah, blah, blah. That's a day job.
The real money's in marketing.
Luckily my other clone army has been much more productive.
What other clone army?
Oh, no. Look.
George troopers.
You, take their lightsabers.
You, create a video game.
You, make an animated sitcom.
I want a bounty-hunter clothing line by the end of the week.
I've got a bad feeling about this.
You and the rest of the universe.
Take 'em away. Roger Roger.
Actually, that's Roger. I'm Buster.
No, I'm sparky.
Ughh. I hate mondays.