Huh.
There's got to be like three feet out there.
And it isn't letting up. Billy!
Let's go with that thermal regulation suppository.
This is perfect testing weather.
Why am I doing this?
Because White is home with mono,
and I'm not shoving that huge thing up my ass.
Crap.
This is so weird.
Push it, Billy. Push it real good.
Aah! What is wrong with you?!
There he is!
The rectal Neil Armstrong.
- How did it go? - It's in.
It was slow going at first. Then suddenly it disappeared.
My ass was like, "I'll take that."
And then... frrt! right up in.
- Sucked it up. - Uh, TMI, Billy.
No. That's just the right amount of "I."
You're supposed to be writing this down.
That's science. That's how it... What is that noise?
There's, like, a beeping.
- You hear that? - Is it your heat regulator?
Did you make it beep?
Why would I make a suppository that beeps?
Huh.
This can't be good.
Come on! There is zero reception in here!
You're behind a foot of titanium.
- Use the landline. - You can't text on a landline!
Brock's securing the building's perimeter.
We have a full evacuation of the plaza.
Shouldn't we get out of the building?
Relax. We're all safe where we are.
The real danger is in the hallway.
Hold on.
I'm in the hallway.
I've pinpointed the beeping to the closet.
Send in the bomb-defusing drone.
I'm trying!
Just get in there.
You're acting like baby's first laptop.
Come on!
Street's blocked off.
Not like there's anyone out there anyway.
Got your helmet. You'd better put it on.
Why? You scared?
No. But... it's helmet.
Not wearing it. It's dorky.
I just wear it 'cause I look good in helmets.
I'm not scared of, you know, debris.
Sure. Sure, you're not.
All right. H.E.L.P.eR.'s out of the closet.
DR. - Is it defused?
No! Because it's not a bomb! It's a huge old phone.
It's still ringing. Should I answer it?
No.
I'm pretty sure it's for me.
Yes. Y... Of course, sir.
Um... I'm not exactly up and ready in that capacity.
It's so cool.
That's a direct call from big brass.
He's so important, he has a hotline.
Yeah. Well, he never reads his e-mail.
And I'm flattered,
but can't you send Captain Whoever to deal with it?
Take the job. Take the job. Take the job. Take the job.
Think of the press! Take the job!
Well, you can count on Team Venture.
Rusty Venture is in the house!
Kiai! Kiai! Kiai!
Goju Ryu, Shotokan, and White Crane make it the perfect space
for training and recruitment of new henchmen.
So, does the floor open up
and reveal grown-ups actually training?
No. This is... it. The pre-teen class.
Get 'em young, right?
Noah, let's get that leg up! Not fighting a corgi dog.
It's a good start, and I'll mention it at your review,
but I'm... I'm actually here
because we need you two for an important secret mission.
Secret mission.
If you succeed, you go up a full EMA level, guaranteed.
They need the dream team. About damn time.
Well, "dream team" is a bit much.
Dream team.
Pretty obvious we're a dream team.
All right. Fine.
If the dream team accepts the mission,
we have to get going now.
We accept.
But first... it's Madison's time.
Kick me.
That's it. How did it feel to you?
Hmm. Let me think a...
Don't think! Feel.
It is like a finger pointing a way to the moon.
Don't concentrate on the finger or you will...
- Gary! Gary! No! No! - Oh, my God! What?!
No, no, no!
- You don't hit the kids. - What? It's karate!
The mothers, they go bananas. And look. She's crying.
You made her cry.
It's karate!
The blizzard is a perfect semisphere.
It's definitely man-made. Just as we suspected!
There's something in the center of it.
Old-school weather machine.
Hank, get geared up in your flight suit.
You're gonna help your old man save the day.
As much as I'd love to pretend
I'm that lady from "Jurassic Park"
and go chase storms with you,
I can't get in touch with Sirena!
I'm not going anywhere.
If Hank won't go, I'll go.
Oh, be real, Billy. This is Team Venture stuff.
- Old times? - No way!
My girlfriend's been kidnapped or replaced by an android
or has amnesia or is trapped under something or...
or there's a remote outside chance
that her phone was stolen by phone pirates!
- I'll go! - Uh...
Brock, you want to go Team Venture with me?
I got to hold down the fort. Ask Hatred.
- Good idea. - Hatred?
Hatred?! I'm a trained scientist!
I'm here during a blizzard
with an untested heat generator up my crack!
What do I need to do here? Do you need me to bleed for you?
Because I'm like 90% sure my ass is bleeding.
Now, I'm gonna suit up and meet you in the X-12.
I suggest you do the same, sir.
Go, Team Venture.
All right.
I said, "Go, Team Venture," sir!
As every villainous child knows,
the Peril Partnership is Canada's version
of the Guild of Calamitous Intent.
We have worked with them in peace for 60 years.
Recently, a rogue version of the Peril Partnership
has been muscling in on Guild Territory.
They use fear, intimidation, theft,
and secrecy as their weapons.
Seems pretty badass to me. What's the problem?
Jealous much?
The Guild has had no luck with diplomacy,
and for whatever reason, the O.S.I. won't engage them.
This morning, we received a top-secret communiqué
from O.S.I. command, reading, "We will handle the symptoms.
You handle the disease.
There will be no interference, no aid,
and no inquiries with your methods."
The disease is a villain known as The Creep.
This is a rough model of him made of chicken tenders.
Which we'll eat with either ketchup or barbecue sauce,
for there can be no record of this meeting.
He commands his Peril Partnership
from a secret river island upstate.
We'll be there soon.
What do you expect us to do?
That is up to you.
But, completely off topic, here is a riddle for you.
What eight can hold two asses?
"Eight Crazy Nights" with Adam Sandler and Rob Schneider.
Boom! Solved! Dream team.
No.
The eight that can hold two asses is "assassinate."
Isn't that neat? I made that up.
I was gonna say that, seriously.
Yeah. It's adorable.
So, what did this Creep guy do?
Believe it or not, he made this blizzard.
He built a weather machine?
Worse. He stole o ur weather machine.
Oh, crap.
After we eat the chicken statue, we need to eat this paper.
Avionics off. Electrical off.
Beacon on. Fuel is...
What? What's all this?
Brock! Ugh.
- Brock. Come in, Brock. - Yeah. What?
There's, like, a rat's nest of wires under the fuel gauge.
Yeah. I just put in a tape deck for some tunes.
It's cool. Just got to tuck all that pasghetti in.
Oh. My. God.
- Tuck... Tuck what in? - The wires.
C-Can you describe them, please?
Like a... Yeah.
It's like a big pile of pasghetti.
Brock, is it like a caterpillar?
Can you say that? Can you say "library"?
Say "espresso."
- What are you doing? - Brock?
Say "manipulate."
Oh you guys.
- That was awesome. - That was amazing.
I feel six feet tall.
Pasghetti!
Hank, you are not going out in that storm.
I can't get ahold of Sirena,
so I'm gonna go out and find her.
You're not going outside. Leave her a message.
I've left her 43 messages and over 60 texts!
Clearly, she's been replaced by a doppelganger...
an exact copy of Sirena,
perfect in every detail save one.
This Sirena won't answer my messages.
Aw, geez. Hank, you're getting obsessive.
Nobody wants to be smothered.
Even my ex-wife didn't like being smothered.
But she did like being choked... which isn't my point.
I know what your point is, Hatred.
You almost fooled me.
Almost. Such a clever copy.
They even got your terrible breath right.
But the real Sergeant Hatred
would never stop a man on a mission of love!
Wish me luck!
I never know when you're messing with me.
Oh.
Trade snorkels with me. Yours matches my fins.
I don't want your snorkel!
You already got spit in your snorkel!
Knock it off! You cannot mix and match.
This isn't Build-A-Bear.
In your pouch, you'll find global positioners
fitted with H.D. recon imagers and two-way communication,
waterproof up to three fathoms.
Tech swag. Sweet!
What are these, TracFones in a ziplock?
Prepaid. Do not lose them.
Mine doesn't have any weapons.
If you show up armed, your cover will be blown.
You got to convince The Creep
that you want to defect to his Peril Partnership.
Then we kill him?
The Guild does not condone it, but...
All right. So we don't kill him.
As an independent agent, you... could.
So you want us to kill him?
As a representative of the Guild, I would not advise it.
But if you have other ideas...
All right. So you mean we s h o ul d kill him?
Oh, my God. Yes. Obviously.
Kill him. Phone us when you're done.
Venture takes the snap from Pouncey.
Fades back and looks for a hole.
Looking for Brown. Good old number 84.
Where's he at? No openings!
Oh, they're rushing in like a great wave of bodies.
He's swattin' 'em down with the patented Hank Spank.
Venture's all alone out there.
What is this?! He's gonna take it home himself!
All right. This looks like the epicenter.
I'm gonna bring her around for a scanning.
Check. Scanner's online.
What... What are you doing? What happened to your clothes?
Boiling in here.
This thermal regulator works way too well.
Do you shave your chest?
No. That's stupid.
I wax.
There it is!
Propulsion matrix of eight contra-rotating turbines.
I'm reading diethylene glycol, monomethyl ether exhaust.
Seems to be surrounded by a silver nitrate cloud.
That's the purple haze.
Is "The Wind Cries Mary" on the other side?
No, the other side is... I'm reading nickel microlattice.
That was a Jimi Hendrix joke, Billy.
White would've got it.
Well, I'm sorry I'm not White.
Crap! Back up! back up!
That thing just launched something at us!
Back up? This is a jet.
I don't know! Then turn around or something!
Secret island lair.
Sweet!
Uh, should we go look for him or something?
Dude, he'll find u s. Look at us.
We look like we're in the "Cult of Personality" video.
We're gonna get spotted.
You are trespassers on private property!
Identify yourselves!
I-I'm The Monarch.
Do not move, interloper!
I-I was just getting my wallet! See?
What? That's your wallet?
What a... What about the one I got you for your birthday?
Dude, can we talk about this later, please?
That was a $200 Paul Smith wallet.
- It was teal. - You loved it.
You said you loved it.
It's a lady's wallet. You got me a lady's wallet.
What is your business?
We're Guild villains.
We want to defect to your Peril Partnership.
Then I must test your skills.
Prepare to survive the most dangerous game!
Great.
Now we're gonna be hunted like animals.
Dude, tell me that guy wasn't on my old Butter Glider.
Help me.
I... have to save my girlfriend.
What about taking out the engines?
No. We need to focus on stopping the blizzard.
Not dropping it on 23rd Street.
Don't need that hot disk just blazing down on...
That's it! Hot disk.
We stop cold air going into the intake port.
Get my thermos out of my bag.
I don't want any coffee. I'm hot as hell!
And coffee gives me the squirts.
Oh, I know it does.
Get the thermos.
Wha... Tell me you see that.
Is it a mirage or... or is that only a desert thing?
Whoa. It's, like, warm in there.
It's like I'm putting my hand up a cow's ass.
The single worst analogy I have ever heard.
I'm almost over the intake port.
Get going.
You don't want to be in that silver nitrate too long.
I couldn't even do this at summer camp.
How do you expect me to do this 20,000 feet in the air?
Billy, you got to get that thermal regulation suppository
into that weather machine.
This is the only way.
Fine.
Just don't tell anyone I did this.
And don't look!
I'm not looking! Just do it.
Fine. Fine.
I should've brought a magazine or something.
I-I need to read when I do this.
All of this is Guild technology.
That's Maybe Man's Indifference Engine.
That's Nat King Cobra's Venomator.
I think that's Mr. Monday's calendar of magic Mondays.
All of this crap is Guild.
Even this force field is from Jungle Jim's Greenhouse Ray.
Very observant.
Yes, and that's Grover Cleveland's
presidential time machine,
and this is PoseiDonJuan's Sexy Trident.
And I've got Gerock The Demolisher's fur underpants.
All stolen from the Guild... all of it!
And now I steal yo u from the Guild...
if you survive the most dangerous game.
I thought we already did.
Choose your color.
What are those, lawn darts?
Yep. Banned throughout the world.
It took me years to procure these last remaining examples
of plastic doom.
Really? That's... That's it?
We shall play Dive Bomb,
the sinister version of that traditional game,
where we throw up a dart as high as we can
and then run away from it at the last minute.
If you da-a-a-a-a-re!
Pshh.
I played this and G.I. Joes every day when I was 8.
Let's do it.
It worked!
But silver nitrate does this to your skin.
Cheese!
Thanks, dickhead.
That's for the Ven-Tech Christmas card. You're welcome.
When I was outside the X-12,
I found what that machine launched at us.
It's a soda can. You know what that means.
So much for a complex automatic defense system.
No. Someone's piloting that thing.
Yeah. He's standing on the roof.
Look at this guy.
What an asshole.
Why didn't you just join the Guild?
Because the Guild is all "safety caps"
and "choking warnings."
Aah!
My Peril Partnership has no rules or treaties.
After we hobble the Guild, we shall destroy the O.S.I.
- Two. - They will pay
- for what they did to me! - Three! Dive bomb!
What did the O.S.I. do to you?
They threw me out.
I was once Mission Creep, their most valuable agent.
Oh. So close. My turn.
After completing a successful siege of a mountain fortress...
Dive bomb!
...I remained to secure the area.
That got you kicked out of the O.S.I.?
There were complications, casualties.
Boy Scouts should never camp near a mountain fortress.
I'm a soldier, damn you!
I soldiered!
Boy Scouts?
You... You slaughtered Boy Scouts?
Wow.
They were wearing paramilitary clothing!
Anyone could have made that mistake.
Dive bomb!
Rup!
Thank you.
You sure you don't want anything?
Okay.
You're not getting any of mine.
I'm not sure that was the best way
to get a woman's attention.
She's O.S.I., and they can't stand the Peril Partnership,
so I defected and took this weather-machine mission.
She would hear about it. She'd hurt. Hurt like I do.
Dude, stalker much?
Where's your copy of "Catcher in the Rye" and your handgun?
That is idiotic!
I tried to date a known black widow.
Killed all her husbands.
Not only did I not get any,
I was slapped with a restraining order.
What did I do?
I got back on that horse
and started Facebooking her from a fake account.
Was that supposed to be inspirational?
You're just as bad!
Actually, that may be worse.
I just gave the kids a snow day.
You are a cyberstalker.
You messed with crazy Guild technology!
I'd never do that.
I do not play fast and loose with super science, sir.
How many times... Are we done yet?
The most dangerous game!
The last one! The big launch!
This one is gonna sail, baby!
Dive bomb super duper!
Get your finger. Don't touch anything else.
Crap! A caveman!
And... Malcolm?
What are you doing in 70 million years ago?
You win.
We killed the caveman!
All right. Get back in the time machine.
We need to go back farther and fix this, too.
Huh.
Did that asshole just call me Malcolm?
Th a t is for BSA Troop 486!
Hey, let's n o t mention this part to the Guild, okay?
Yeah. Not a word.
Dream team.
Hey, isn't this my brother's dorm?
Dorm.
Dormi... Dormitor... Dormitorium.
Jared! Don't you see the tie?
What?
Hank! I-It's not what you think.
Mnh. What is...
No. It is what you think.
Wait. What do you think it is?
I think you were freezing to death and did this to survive?
It is what you think?
No. It's n o t what you think.
W-What... What were you thinking?
We we re n 't thinking.
You weren't thinking about me.
That's for sure.
We didn't think this would happen!
I don't know what to think.
Holy shit!
Uh, there's a bear behind you.
Oh, good.
You guys see him, too.
Thank you for letting me do this.
I had to pull a lot of strings,
but under these circumstances, i-it's the least I can do.
I'm sure our prisoner exchange sweetened the deal for you.
We will enjoy having Black Strap back with us.
- Did you torture him? - Daily.
Got to love those treaties.
I have to warn you...
We adjusted the traitor's... temperament.
Well, I'll leave you two alone for a bit.
S-464, are you awake?
I am.
I'm here.
I don't care what you did. I love you.
Do I know you?
No. No. No. No.
Your brain! They screwed with your brain!
- This is Stranger 464. - Why?
- Why? No. No. - We have an O.S.I. incursion.
- No. - Med Unit 3.
No-o-o-o-!
Yep.