Previously on Scorpion... What's that thing.
Happy always says? "Damn it, Toby, put a baby in me already"?
I'm the reason we can't have kids.
What would you say if it were me?
I'd tell you that I love you and that medical science
has ways around issues like these. Ditto.
We're cleaning the Great Pacific Garbage Patch,
a 500-ton mass of plastic shards
floating in the ocean.
Speaking of Walter, there is nothing between us.
He and I are alike.
Too much head, too little heart.
What's this? You seemed upset by Paige's germs
so I mixed up a disinfectant solution.
She laughed at my joke.
She gave me disinfectant for Valentine's.
And the way she described
her perfect guy to Paige?
Who's more vulnerable than me? I get nosebleeds on escalators.
♪
PAIGE: Freeway.
Roadside ditch.
Cucumber?
Uh... Um...
(popcorn crunching)
Uh... map?
Snake and baby snake.
Oh. Maps to the Stars.
Clearly these are not stars.
Ah, time. Oh!
WALTER: Seriously?
How'd you not get this? Aw.
PAIGE: Let's see what this mysterious drawing
was supposed to be. Moon River?
How was that Moon River?
Well, this is a topographically accurate depiction
of the Moon River in Savannah, Georgia,
and this is a worm,
indicating Wormsloe State Historical Site.
Walter, "Moon River" is a song.
It's one of my favorite old standards.
I like old standards
just as much as I like spontaneous game nights.
You could have just done this.
Mm-hmm.
The flag of Azerbaijan?
Forget it. Greg, you're up. (claps hands)
I thought that doctor was great.
She went to Brown.
It has a great medical school.
Yeah, if you can't get into Harvard.
Okay, you nixed the Harvard doctor, too,
along with six more of the top fertility specialists in L.A.
Happy, I didn't tell you... That Harvard doc
had a row of pencils lined up
right next to a perfectly good pencil holder.
That's a sign of a sociopath.
Oh, you should know. You gonna find something wrong
with every doctor we meet?
This is a huge life step. This is arguably
the most important step we've ever taken.
Yeah, but you can't decide on anythin now.
It took you 20 minutes to pick coffee this morning.
Right, well, you want your baby concocted
by a cappuccino, a Frappuccino or a mocha latte?
Each one has different strengths and weaknesses.
You're an idiot. Yeah.
An idiot whose baby won't be designed
by someone who went to Brown.
MALE VOICE: So please leave a message after the beep and have a nice day.
SYLVESTER: This is Alderman Dodd.
Again. This is the 14th message.
Please call me back.
Who's dodgin' ya?
The Plastics Consortium of North America.
That was gonna be my first guess.
I can't stop thinking
about the garbage island we saw over Thanksgiving.
In 30 years, the ocean is going to be more plastic
than marine life.
So I'm trying to set up meetings
with the CEOs of various bottled water corporations,
so they can explore a new design for their bottles
that uses .14 fewer grams of plastic.
But nobody is calling me back.
I don't trust bottled water.
Had a real spring on my grandfather's farm upstate
when I was a boy.
Best I ever tasted.
Thank you, Cabe...
(cell phone dings) for that entirely unhelpful insight.
"I'm with Florence."
"Gonna talk you up."
"Your Wingman."
Attaboy, Ralph.
PAIGE: It's like you were deliberately bad
at the game.
I am not gonna dumb myself down for your friends.
What credibility would I have?
I just wanted to have a quiet cup of coffee.
PAIGE: And I just wanted
a regular fun night with non-geniusy stuff
for a change, and Walter ruined it.
Ruined what? He refused
to draw anything "pedestrian"
for game night with my friends.
So when the clue was "carbon copy,"
he drew one atom of carbon and another atom of carbon.
Come on, Paige, what's a better way to display that?
BOTH: A car, a bun, a cop.
Well, I see great minds think alike.
TOBY: Hey, hey, hey,
I'm the first to admit that my overall decisiveness
has been affected by the doctor decision,
but it's not like I can't come up with
any course of action.
Really? Okay, I will wear the sexy pharmacist outfit tonight
if you can pick where we get lunch from
in the next ten seconds.
Sexy pharmacist?
She knows exactly what to prescribe. Five seconds.
Uh, okay, uh, the...
uh, Kovelsky's.
Wait. Um, uh, Burger Hut.
No. Actually, um...
Eh! Time's up.
No medicine for you, Wishy-Washy.
I should have figured as much
from the lowest genius IQ on the team.
Geez. You're really mad at me.
Uh, guys. What's this pictograph?
BOTH: Carbon copy.
See? Even the guy with the lowest IQ
on the team got it.
That's a defamatory,
unconfirmed rumor. PAIGE: You know what?
We don't have time for this...
We need to catch our flight to Colorado.
PANDS is waiting. Hey, what the hell is this case all about anyway?
You guys are supposed to explain it to me.
It's been weeks, and you've been ducking me.
Oh, don't you get it, Cabe?
These guys can't bring themselves
to dumb it down for us.
Oh, right. Cabe, here it is.
PANDS is the Particle Accelerator.
Neutrino Detection Station.
It's a physics laboratory
in the Rocky Mountains.
World's deepest lab.
It's built three kilometers underground
to shield experiments
from cosmic radiation.
Has a state-of-the-art particle collider.
And the PANDS scientists think
they detected a WIMP.
Well, that shouldn't be too hard.
I'm sure they're all wimps.
No, no, a Weakly Interacting Massive Particle.
It's theorized they constitute dark matter and could interact
with forces outside of the standard model of physics.
A WIMP would be a momentous discovery.
Problem is, many of these discoveries
are conveniently announced
right when labs are applying for federal funding.
Some of them could be bogus.
So the government hired us to verify experiment results
before they give the grant.
Yes, and the lab's been cleared out
for us to conduct verification,
which we should run through before we get there.
Now, this ball is filled with one ton of liquid argon,
stored at negative 190 degrees Celsius,
and surrounded by hundreds of photomultiplier tubes
sensitive to the emissions of even a single photon.
So if there is a WIMP,
it will produce a flash of VUV rays
detectable by these sensors.
And we will run a systems test on the whole detector.
He's not even winded, which pisses me off even more.
WALTER: Then we'll irradiate the ball with neutrons
from the supply of radioactive californium I obtained.
Oh. Think I found a WIMP.
If the neutrons emitted by spontaneous fission
in the californium interact with liquid argon,
as we predict, the detector is sound
and the WIMP discovery is verified.
Glad you explained it to me.
♪
Hello. (chuckles): Hi.
I'm Paige Dineen, team manager.
You must be Mr. Bhatt.
Please, call me Raja. Walter.
We are delighted to have you here.
Uh, a quick... quick lay of the land.
The lab is built beneath an existing gold mine.
(chuckles) So you'll use the mine's elevator for access.
For the sake of integrity, I'm not allowed down
while you verify our results, so I will be in that building,
the Security and Observation Center,
(chuckles): or SOC...
with a Mr...
Gallo... and a Ms. Dineen.
Uh, it has monitors linked to security cameras
peppered throughout the lab,
so we'll be able to watch you work.
Uh, as I'm sure
you're aware, there are consequences
to being that far underground for extended periods of time.
The increased air pressure pushes toxins into the blood,
which could negatively impact the neural pathways.
Paige, you think about it like, uh, it's just gunk
blocking your brain.
Not everything has to be translated.
The "neural pathways" is easy enough.
They're... the pathways...
for...
Almost there.
All things neural.
There you go. End result is that the lab
has a safety limit of four hours.
After that, it's harder to think,
uh, cognitive abilities decline.
It's like a-a graph of exponential
stupidity. (chuckles)
Until your IQ falls off a cliff.
If my IQ fell off a cliff, I'd basically be Toby.
See what you started?
We'll finish under four hours. Everything will be just fine.
Comms in, everyone.
Thank you.
RAJA: Uh, shall we?
(phone rings) PAIGE: Oh.
(over phone): Hey, honey. You at the convention?
Uh, heading in now. I'm really excited.
Be sure to behave for Florence.
Will you put her on the phone for a second?
Hello.
Hi. I just wanted to say thanks for taking Ralph along today.
It's my pleasure.
I normally dislike children, but he's an abnormal child.
Thank you. I... I think.
Uh... oh. Security requires us to check our phones at the door,
so we won't be reachable for a few hours.
But I promise the moment we get out, we'll give you a call.
Okay? Talk soon.
Eh, she won't be happy
about not being able to be in touch with me.
Well, I'm-I'm sure she trusts I'll take good care of you.
It's not you.
Only person she trusts watching me is Sylvester.
She always says he's the most responsible
and trustworthy member of the team.
Really?
He seems afraid of his own shadow.
Um, just very cautious. Another great trait he has.
Yep, can't go wrong with reliable old Sylvester.
Man, we're going down deep.
SYLVESTER: Don't remind me!
What is that?
Do you seriously not know what this is?
No more plastic in the workplace; I wrote a memo.
Oh, right, right. Now I remember that memo.
I, uh, I stuffed it in a plastic jug,
and then I threw it in the gutter. Very funny.
Unhand that bottle.
Are you happy now?
Can the children fight later?
We have work to do.
(beeps)
Okay.
Yeah, we're in the lab. SYLVESTER: The clean room
is super cool.
WALTER: Four hours starts now.
Okay. Have fun down there.
So, uh, the clean room is fitted
with directed, high-pressurized nozzles
that blow out a proprietary hydrogen-nitrogen mixture
that'll purify you and your clothing.
It's a little, uh... (chuckles)
it's a little abrasive.
But, uh, necessary...
So you don't bring contaminants into the lab.
And I'm turning on the system.
(low beeping)
HAPPY: Hold on. These industrial blowers
will knock the boogers out of your nose.
(whooshing stops)
RAJA: Okay. You are completely purified.
We have to get that for the garage.
Are you kidding me?
I'm drinking purified purified water.
That's living, Sly.
I can't believe we're actually here.
WALTER: Every piece of equipment is state-of-the-art.
"Prairie Dogs Under Observation."
Ugh. Prairie dogs?
Disgusting dirt dwellers.
TOBY: That must be how the scientists analyze the effects
of pressure on cognition,
'cause prairie dogs are naturally burrowing creatures,
so they might have ways of reacting
to increased pressure that we don't know about.
Like being unable to make basic decisions.
That's uncalled for.
The argon tank.
It's everything I've ever dreamed.
HAPPY: I'll check the photosensors
while you guys handle the monitors.
Man, think about what they're doing down here.
It's amazing.
Four percent of the universe
is matter as we understand it.
26% is dark matter and 70% is dark energy,
both of which we know bupkis about.
That means that if we learned everything
in the current encyclopedia of human knowledge,
we'd still only comprehend four percent of the universe.
Which means you'd only know about one percent.
Lowest Scorpion IQ and all.
That's unconfirmed.
Okay, computers are up and running.
Keep an eye on the timer.
We have three hours and 48 minutes
until our brains stop working at full capacity.
This is super cool.
I bet Paige and Cabe are on the edge of their seats.
Okay.
Celebrities names who are also food.
Sugar Ray Leonard.
Kevin Bacon.
Chuck Connors.
How's that food?
Ground chuck, it's meat.
Who calls meat "chuck" anymore?
I do. It's valid. Go.
Ice Cube.
Ice is frozen water.
Invalid.
He's right. Not a food.
Ugh. How long have we been doing this?
40 minutes.
Feels like 40 hours.
Just giving the diagnostic results a perusal.
Oh, we're wrapped already? The four hours
went by that quickly. You want to see this.
Look at the rise of the photoelectron integral.
WALTER: Toby, check this out.
Guys, you seeing this?
(snoring)
Uh, yeah. Cabe can't see anything,
He's literally passed out from boredom.
WALTER: Well, ignoring the fact that you used
"literally" incorrectly, because he fell asleep
rather than "passed out,"
can you let Raja take a look at this?
RAJA: No, I see it, I see it.
The argon ball responded accurately to the californium,
which-which-which means a valid detector.
We... We found WIMPs.
Our-our discovery is verified.
(whooping)
Thank you. Thank you.
Yes! (groans)
What's goin' on?
Just, uh, nerds getting rowdy.
We're heading topside.
Make it snappy. You're over the four hour limit.
You don't wanna get daffy down there.
Oh, come on. We haven't even checked out
the particle collider yet.
When are we ever gonna be back here?
You know, the four-hour limit applies
to people with normal brains.
We're geniuses, even Toby,
so I'm sure that we can stay down a little bit longer
without any adverse effects.
Let's do it.
Oh, 9,000 feet underground, suddenly Sly's a rebel.
WALTER: Okay, we won't stay for long!
We'll be back up with your test results soon, Raja, promise.
Is this okay?
Hmm? Yeah, I suppose it's all right.
It's just a, it's just a few minutes.
Oh.
What a beauty.
And it's only operating at 50% capacity.
Its particles accelerate to 15 tera electron volts.
An electronic feedback mechanism
prevents it from reaching its full capacity of 30,
which could validate a specific class
of supersymmetry theories,
better helping us understand
the fabric of matter and energy themselves.
There's also a small chance that...
that particles colliding with that much energy
would create a black hole
that'll swallow up our whole solar system.
How small a chance?
No one knows.
It's like a game of proton roulette.
Roulette's odds are 37 to one; these are far greater.
That was a terrible analogy.
Toby, are you okay?
TOBY: Yep, yeah.
It's all good in the neighborhood, my man.
Okay, maybe we should get out now.
PAIGE: Good idea.
I was reading a book on antigravity the other day
and I couldn't put it down.
That's my joke from my stand-up.
(laughs) You're really funny.
I have the gift.
(clatter, hissing) What the hell was that?
WALTER: It's the nozzle to one of the hydrogen gas tanks.
It popped off.
It's leaking out flammable hydrogen.
If we don't find a fix quick, this joint's gonna blow up.
I'll shut it down with one of the electrical backups.
Well, how did this happen?
Nozzles aren't supposed to pop off.
(screams) (prairie dog squeaking)
Guessing that's how.
SYLVESTER: A prairie dog.
Told you they were wretched animals.
That must've escaped from the cage,
and messed with the wiring.
Th-That increased the pressure in the tanks.
WALTER: The little guy did extensive damage.
Luckily, I'm here, so I can stop it.
You guys are four hours 30 minutes underground.
You're gonna start losing IQ points, if you're not already.
You sure you're up for this?
Of course I am. In fact...
Aha, I already did it.
That seems a little bit too fast, son.
(hydrogen hissing) Uh, Walt,
you didn't fix crap; the hydrogen's still leaking.
Huh?
(alarm beeping) Oh, boy.
The green indicator light from the particle collider room.
PAIGE: Indicating what?
Indicating that the collider's been activated
to reach full capacity.
Walter, whatever you did to the electronic system
didn't shut down the hydrogen.
It stepped on the collider's gas pedal.
Does that mean it's gonna create a black hole?
Maybe. Or maybe it'll just explode and kill us.
Well, I don't make mistakes.
My mental state must be impaired.
How do you walk around like this?
You're insulting me?
Walt, you just started a chain reaction
that could destroy the space-time continuum,
and then Keanu Reeves and the other guy
are gonna pop out of that phone booth.
Who?
Our only way out is through a room filled
with hydrogen gas and flammable disinfectants.
Tiniest friction created by opening the door
could cause a huge gas explosion.
(Toby laughs)
(laughing): I'm sorry.
She said "huge gas explosion."
(all laughing)
Why are geniuses laughing
at a fart joke when they're about to die?
'Cause they're not geniuses anymore...
they're idiots.
♪
RAJA: We've never left anyone underground long enough
to witness effects like this.
They're not fully "idiots" like you say,
but they are rapidly approaching
average intelligence.
And every minute, it's gonna get harder and harder
for them to fix their situation.
Guys, snap out of it.
Walter, can't you undo what you did with the wires
to stop the collider?
Okay, my intellect's been compromised, but I have further
to fall since I'm coming all the way down from 197.
So I can give it a crack.
No. He can't risk messing with those wires
in case he makes things more bad.
You mean "worse"?
Walt, do you have a plan or not?
Yes. Two, actually.
While we still retain some of our faculties,
Sly and I will work to hack
into the particle collider to shut down
the superconducting magnets, so then stopping the acceleration
from the protons into the plasma.
Um, sounds good.
Okay, what's plan number two?
Number two. (Chuckles)
(chuckles)
WALTER: Okay, seriously now.
There is a button at the other end
of the clean room
uh, that opens the door to the mine shaft.
Now, uh, we can use that to vent out
the flammable hydrogen that way,
but we need a way to push the button.
Oh. The purification jets.
Oh, if they can blow the boogers out of your nose,
they can depress the button.
RAJA: Okay, but the joystick controls will be hard to move.
There's no servo motor.
It'll be like driving a car without power steering.
Okay, Cabe and Paige, you'll need to rip the roof off
the elevator shack so the hydrogen can travel up,
and escape safely into the atmosphere. Let's go.
Can we knock off the roof supports?
That'll collapse the roof on the shaft, and it's too heavy
to lift by hand. Well, let's not do it by hand at all.
Let's secure the roof to the SUV and rip it right out.
Yeah, here. These work?
Yes. We can use mine cables.
Let's go. Let's go!
TOBY: Okay, you see the button?
Uh, you redirect those two airstreams,
I'll redirect these two.
Sounds good. Gloves on.
And go.
Huh. These controls aren't hard to move.
Raja's a weakling.
Actually, the pressure down here
is pushing toxins into our hebogoblin.
Uh, it's "hemogiblin."
It's also pushing oxygen
into our muscles, making them more powerful,
so we're stupid, but we're strong.
Oh, man, we're becoming dumb jocks.
Thanks for the root beer.
Conference has been great so far.
Wait for the inert gas demonstration
after intermission.
I hear it's a game-changer.
Cool.
Always up for a new experience.
Sylvester taught me that.
He said "gaining knowledge is the embedded stone"
in the pathway to enlightenment."
He did?
Didn't peg him as a philosopher.
Philosopher, calculator, he can do it all.
I'm not that well-rounded.
Chemistry is my one and only wheelhouse.
Mmm, right, but based on what
you gravitated to in the conference, your main interest
is in particle flocculation and coagulation.
Wow. Yes, that's correct.
How are you so familiar with that area of research?
From Scorpion.
They're the smartest team of people in the world.
(both grunt)
Can you let me... Please.
If I... Let me in, please. Thank you.
Oh, it's a scorcher in here.
It's only gonna get worse.
Not if we can stop the electromagnet
from powering up and giving the thingies enough energy.
SYLVESTER: Thingies? I think my intelligence quadrant
is dropping faster than anticipated.
Intelligence quotient.
Step aside. I'll handle this.
(computer beeps)
We're shut out.
What?
I couldn't figure out how to hack in,
but the collider thinks we're tampering with it,
so it shut us out permanently.
There's no way to stop the magnets
from heating up the plasma.
Stop thinking you can do genius stuff.
You're like me and Cabe now.
This thing's gonna blow. It already blows.
Our whole trip to the accelerator's ruined.
No. I mean it's gonna explode!
Oh. PAIGE: No, it isn't.
We're gonna get you all to the surface,
put some genius back in your brains,
and you're gonna figure out a solution!
Let's get Dumb and Dumber down there back to Smart and Smarter!
Gun it!
(engine revving)
All right, my airstreams are pointing right at the button.
Me, too.
How come it's not depressing?
It's incredibly depressing. We're about to die.
I meant the button. CABE: Because
the damn broken hydrogen line
has reduced the damn pressure coming out of the damn nozzle.
Man, it's annoying being smarter than them.
He's right.
The blower alone won't do it.
Oh, I'm feeling a lot of anxiety right now.
I don't like being stupid like Cabe and Paige.
Thanks a lot. I don't like not knowing how to solve things.
I can't imagine living a life like this.
It's like they don't even know we're listening.
Truth be told, I kind of dig it.
I don't have a lot of thoughts racing through my head,
my worries are fading.
I just got to figure out one thing...
How to press a stupid button.
The water bottle.
If we toss this up into the air current,
the force of the blower will slam it into the button.
You sure? Well, you got a problem with me being decisive now? Just do it.
Such a simple solution, you probably
wouldn't have come up with it if you could think non-simply.
That's it. A simple solution involving a water bottle.
I just found out how I'm going to solve my plastics problem.
Okay, shut up and let me focus!
(whooshing)
Whoa! It worked.
Ah, give me some! (grunting)
Okay. Sunlight's hitting the mine shaft.
Yeah, there's clear access to the outside.
That hydrogen's gonna fill up that shaft soon.
What is... that?
PAIGE: Ugh. Guys,
it looks like the water bottle's
lighting the elevator certificate on fire.
So? They can get a new one.
Mine shaft is full of flammable hydrogen, you dumb son of a...
Awesome!
No-look high-five.
(thud) I said no-look high-five.
Oh. Husband?
Um, he's not moving.
I feel like I normally say something here.
Not good.
Yup, that's it.
Uh, he's unconscious!
Uh... pressure.
It's a... pressure thing.
Toby said it earlier.
Toxins in the blood affect neural pathways.
Huh?
He has gunk in his brain! Guys?
Guys, listen to me.
You have maybe ten minutes
to get Dr. Curtis out of there before there is
a nitrogen overload in his bloodstream, and he dies.
WALTER: Okay, you heard Roger. Raja.
Yes. You heard him.
We need to get Toby out of here right now.
A fireball just asploded the elevator!
I know another way out of the lab.
There is a mine shaft 30 feet above the lab entrance.
If I can get my liaison at the mine to open it up,
we can lower a rope to your team and help 'em escape.
(alarm beeping faster)
(alarm blaring) Uh-oh.
What does yellow mean?
Slow down?
Uh, the plasma went into the spirally, uh, things.
RAJA: You mean the supercharging coils.
Bullets are in the gun, and the hammer's being pulled back.
Um...
you have eight minutes before the plasma enters the collider,
the particles hit, and we might, theoretically,
experience the destruction of our solar system.
I don't care about theories!
I care about the reality of an asplosion that kills all of us!
It's all the more reason to get our guys out of there.
And you go get that mine liaison. Now!
Yup.
We really need to deal with the collider, right?
We can't! Look at us! We're getting dumber by the minute!
Okay, as the more smarter person here,
we need to figure out a way to get me to the surface
so that I will be at normal pressure,
I can be a genius again, and I will solve this.
Great idea.
HAPPY: But...
Won't he die if we don't deal with him first?
Crap!
Besides, we can't get to the surface
until Roger comes with his friend.
Raja. Right.
Wait, wait, wait. Wait. He doesn't need a surface.
He needs a vacuum.
Much as I hate to say it,
can you spell that out?
Pressure caused Toby to pass out.
The least pressure possible is a vacuum.
I vacuum-seal leftovers for me and Ralph all the time.
You need to vacuum-seal Doc's head to get rid of the
pressure that's pushing the toxins into his brain.
That is a smart idea, Paige.
Thank you... Walter.
Stop wasting time and shrink-wrap that shrink now!
Walt, Walt, I know you're foggy, but this is
a rudimentary project.
You don't need to be a genius to pull it off.
You just need to focus on the basic tenants of science,
and you'll figure it out.
Okay, but I could...
I could really do with you holding my hand through it.
I could use a teammate?
Wow. You've never asked me to...
to work on something technical before.
But why? You're so smart.
Okay. Well, my-my food sealer has a-a vacuum pump.
You need to find
something like that in there.
Okay, the, uh, argon room
has a vacuum pump to purify the ball.
It's a mobile device we can use for suction.
PAIGE: My leftovers get sucked up tight in plastic wrap.
Is there anything in there like that?
Uh, yeah, the, uh, cellophane in this equipment.
Here. Keep it over here. Sly?
All right.
Okay, vacuum's in position. Start wrapping.
Um...
(beatboxing)
♪ My name's Sylvester, saving Toby's my goal ♪
♪ We better do it fast, there might be a black hole. ♪
(beatboxing)
He meant wrapping cellophane, moron.
PAIGE: We'll time this together.
As soon as Toby is fully wrapped,
I'll hold my breath, too.
When I gasp for air, you uncover him.
Great.
You know, Paige, I know I'm impaired,
but I'm still lucid enough to know
that you're simplifying things for me so that I can follow.
And I thought that was a way to dumb oneself down.
But, actually, it's a way to be more effective in communication.
Thank you.
You're welcome, Walter.
You know,
it feels really good to express one's self openly like this.
I feel like, now that my IQ's out of the way,
my EQ can flourish.
If this is what it's like to be you,
I'm a tad envious.
Who the hell is this guy?
Maybe dopey Walter isn't so bad.
Hurry! We only have 4.5 minutes until the plasma is launched,
and the world collapses in on itself.
Maybe.
WALTER: Happy, you ready?
Flip the switch!
(whooshing)
CABE: All right.
Paige is holding her breath.
(whooshing)
Oh, this looks like a horror movie.
Looks like a side of Grade A Chuck.
See? Other people say "chuck".
You know, Chuck's a strange nickname.
It's not really born of Charles.
It's not like "Will"
for "William" or "Mike" for "Michael."
I mean, how is "Jack" a nickname for "John"?
Not even shorter.
Or "Peg" is "Margaret." What the hell is that?
Good Lord, they're stupid.
(whooshing)
(exhales) All right.
Time's up! Unwrap him!
(gasping) Toby?
How do you feel?
Like Freud and Jung had an all-out fisticuffs
in my cerebellum.
(laughing)
What, are you laughing at one of my jokes?
I don't know what that means, but you're super funny.
I'm never leaving this lab.
Well, you're going to help us leave, at least,
because if my calculations are correct,
we have three minutes and two seconds
until the plasma is launched. (alarm sounding)
I was wrong. My calculations were off.
We have zero seconds.
I can't figure out how this all plays out.
Well, here's how it goes.
Supercharged particles are rocketing in opposite directions
around the particle collider, and at any minute,
they might smash into each other, possibly
destroying the universe as we know it, but
definitely blowing our butts off.
Wow. Thank you for breaking this down. This is bad.
No! No!
This is great!
How the hell is this great?
'Cause I'm the smartest one on the team.
Now you're the Tobys!
Yes, you're smart again. That was the plan
so you could save us, not so you could gloat.
I can do both. Quiet, dummy. Let me think.
Okay.
I got it. You remember earlier
when Sly was saying how all this was super cool?
Well, he's right.
That argon in the WIMP detector is stored at
190 degrees below freezing.
That's literally super cool, and the collider is super hot.
Cool... hot.
Following.
Mm-hmm, so if we can get the argon to the collider,
it'll super-cool the plasma so the ions can no longer travel
at a high energy, thus eliminating their ability
to form any kind of explosion upon collision.
Now I'm as lost as Macaulay Culkin in New York.
Who?
Home Alone 2.
I love that movie.
I know, right? Good as the original.
Guys! Zip it, meatheads! We gotta turn that
argon ball into a big juice box.
So we're gonna puncture it
with the empty hydrogen pipes, and then steer freezing liquid
argon through the piping system into the collider room.
Okay, we're gonna need schematics
for this wackadoo plan to work.
Give me ten seconds.
I'll print the schematics.
Okay, Walt, grab a handsaw
and then climb up the pipe in the collider room.
Cut it so it drops toward the collider.
The supply closet's out there to your left.
Copy that.
(alarm continues blaring)
Your other left!
Sly, you see all
the wheels along where the pipe branches off?
Those are baffles. You need
to turn them off at every pipe except the ones
that go to the collider room.
Happy, you're with me.
Whatever you say, Professor.
(alarm sounding) (panting)
(grunting)
I can't get in! The door must have locked automatically
once the plasma was launched. We're screwed!
Pull!
Oh, okay.
Yep, collider's at 100% capacity.
How's it going, Walt?
Argon river about to flow?
Yeah, getting there.
You know,
speaking of rivers,
Paige, maybe we can listen
to "Moon River" tonight if we get out of this?
You can teach me about the standards?
Broaden my horizons a bit?
Really?
Um, okay.
Redirecting the hydrogen pipe now.
Almost done.
Okay, copy that. That was Raja.
He's ten minutes out with the miners.
(grunts)
Ready to go here.
Sly, you finished?
Sly?
CABE: What's going on?
He's nodding. Sly, they can't hear a nod.
My "B."
I'm done.
Walter, status?
I'll be done in two seconds.
Release the argon.
You sure we'll bust through this thing?
Yeah. We're super strong, remember?
Let's do it.
(grunts)
Walt, the force of the argon
is gonna snap off the end of that pipe,
so make sure you get off
before you cut all the way through. Huh?
(screams)
Walter!
(metal clangs, creaks)
(panting)
Oh!
Guys!
A little help here?
Oh, God. If he lets go,
he's gonna get burned alive by the collider.
And if he holds on, when the argon
goes through that pipe, he's gonna freeze to death.
On our way, Walt. Swing out.
Try to land away from the collider.
I'm 25 feet in the air.
I'll break my ankles,
and I won't be able to run away when the argon hits.
Not if we catch you.
We're jocks now, remember?
Use your super strength to swing
like you're doing a trapeze leap.
How long until the argon reaches him?
There's your answer.
Walter, the argon is almost to you.
You have to let go.
We're not there yet!
I can feel the pipe getting colder.
I have to jump.
(coughs) Oh, perfect ten, O'Brien.
Much like your current IQ.
Let's boogie.
(coughing)
It's working.
(alarm stops blaring)
(all coughing)
(sighs) Well, we did it.
(prairie dog chittering)
Happy with yourself?
Jerk.
CABE: There they are.
TOBY: Nothing could be finer than to be rescued by a miner.
CABE: Good job, guys.
Hey, great job, smarty-pants.
(laughs)
Good job.
I'm sorry about your lab.
I blame the prairie dog.
No, no. Insurance will cover the damage.
Most important, our research was proven,
and we have the data stored in our server up here.
Thank you, Scorpion.
I'm glad you guys are safe. WALTER: More importantly,
we're smart again.
Pi to the 35th digit:
3.141592...
65358979...
3238462...
6433.
Backwards. 3346...
SYLVESTER: 2648...
HAPPY: 97985356...
WALTER: 295141.3.
CABE: Good work, team.
Uh, we're back.
Hey, Ralph.
Florence. Good evening.
I'm-I'm sorry that we weren't reachable
during your crisis.
We had an amazing time at the Chemistry Convention,
but it sounds like we missed out
on almost maybe seeing a black hole,
which is infinitely cooler.
SYLVESTER: Well, if you have it in you
to sit through one more demo,
I'm about to show everybody something.
The drink station?
I actually just engineered this water filter.
Uh, please, if you'd do the honors.
Ooh, that's quite good.
Tastes like home.
It's like a stream
at my Grandpa Gallo's farm.
Exactly.
How did you do that?
I researched the chemical assays
on your grandfather's farm
online through the New York DWP.
This filter adjusts the compounds in water
to match the mineral compositions
of that same stream,
which is why it tastes so delicious.
Sly, that is amazing.
Down in that lab,
we solved things so simply.
You explained things to us so simply.
I realized I had to simplify my plastics plan.
Instead of corralling corporations
to change their supply of bottles,
I focused on the demand.
If I can get one of these to every West Altadenian,
they would choose to use tap water over bottled
simply because of the taste.
Only question is,
how do I make this 43-pound filter
scalable for mass production?
Well, whatever the case,
it's nice to have your brain back, kid.
You know,
the science of water filtration involves flocculation
and coagulation.
Isn't that your specialty, Florence?
Yes.
We established that earlier.
Well, then would you be able to help Sylvester
scale his water filter?
Yeah, I suppose so.
If you wouldn't mind me helping you.
Wow. That'd be great. If you don't mind.
That'd be great. We can talk about it.
I think it'd be great.
Good-bye.
(Sylvester grunts)
(clears throat)
Those all the doctors we saw?
Most of them.
I'm trying to narrow the field of contenders.
Hey, when we were underground today,
we had no smarts,
and we had to do things
with some guts and instinct,
and it worked.
Maybe overthinking can be a problem sometimes.
Who do you feel is the right doctor?
As unhappy as it would make my alumni association,
I want that doctor from Brown.
Good. I do, too.
I already made the appointment.
Let's go, dum-dum.
Time to play pharmacist.
Oh, hey. Good news.
I just read online a singer I love
is, um, performing standards tonight at a great little club
in Laurel Canyon. We could get a sitter for Ralph.
They might even do "Moon River."
Well, that's very kind of you, Paige, but, uh...
(clears throat) I plan on working tonight.
I've got a lot of low-IQ time to make up for.
I need to catch up on some things,
maybe stimulate the cranium a bit.
Oh, okay. I just...
I just figured that 'cause you said
you wanted to learn about old standards...
I will. One day soon.
But, uh, you know, they're old standards, Paige.
They're not going anywhere, right?
Right.
I'll miss you, dopey Walter.
Ralph, come on. Let's go.
You know, Walter, this is an impressive
particle accelerator.
Oh, thank you. I'm building a new...
Electronic feedback mechanism.
Yes, I can see that.
It's a cool design.
You could tell it was a feedback mechanism?
Of course.
Your drawing was as clear as day.
Though, if I'm not being too bold...
Closed circuit.
Less easily bypassed.
You can tell that's what I'm going for?
Oh, your drawing was also clear as day.
Uh, may I? Of course.
Yeah. Okay.
And then perhaps another injector. Mm-hmm.
Over... here.
Fantastic.
Yes. Okay.
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Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org