ANNOUNCER: Welcome back to the 70th Annual C.I.A. Awards,
with your host, Nicki Minaj.
(applause)
When I was asked to host these awards,
I was a little nervous.
Maybe because I was thrown into a van
and injected with mind-control drugs.
(laughter)
Damn, this new Billy Crystal
has the juiciest ass.
But as they kick in,
it's becoming a night of magical moments.
We've seen Agent Jackson win Best Wiretap Sound Mixing.
(applause) Whoo, Jackson!
And, of course, Deputy Director Bullock's
annual win for Best Chili.
(applause)
And the winner for Best Undercover Agent is...
Agent X.
(applause)
(distorted) Wow!
I didn't even prepare a speech.
Felix, Isabella, you can go to bed now.
Oh, God. I said your names on television.
Pack your bags. Get out of the house.
Make sure you're not being followed!
Daddy's bringing this to the place we discussed!
¶¶
¶ Good morning, U.S.A. ¶
¶ I got a feelin' that it's gonna be a wonderful day ¶
¶ The sun in the sky has a smile on his face ¶
¶ And he's shinin' a salute to the American race ¶
¶ Oh, boy, it's swell to say ¶
¶ Good -- ¶ ¶ Good morning, U.S.A. ¶
Aah!
¶ Good morning, U.S.A. ¶
(applause)
And the award for Most Elusive Villain goes to...
(whispering) Is everyone in position?
The Falcon!
(silenced gunfire)
ANNOUNCER: This is the third time
the Falcon has not fallen for this.
And now, the only agent who refuses
to wear a towel in the C.I.A. locker room, Duper!
(applause)
The nominees for Best Spy Seduction Are...
Tyrese Gibson for "Senior Seduction."
(applause)
¶¶
Dick Reynolds for "Dictator's Horse."
(applause)
(insects chirping)
(beeping)
(squish!)
And Stan Smith for "Smokin' Hot North Korean Super Spy."
We simply must stop running into each other like this.
Red wine and Everclear.
You remembered.
Or maybe I just forgot to forget.
¶¶
(applause)
And the winner is...
Stan Smith.
(applause)
¶¶
Oh, there's so many people to thank.
But I wouldn't be here without my elementary school
gym teacher, Mr. Raggins,
who taught me everything I know about seduction.
(cheers and applause)
After all these years,
it turns out Stan Smith can be romantic!
You seduced the crap out of that spy.
No biggie.
I just put hours of thought into who she is as a person
and what would make her truly happy,
and then I gave it to her.
Well, how about you give it to me?
Pass.
(blows nose)
Sexy Stan is just an act I put on for work.
At home, you get the real me.
This little sucker was trying to make a run for it.
The hell you do.
Francine, I think I feel a pimple on my back.
Can you take a look?
Can we do our gross stuff tomorrow?
I'm still hoping to get a little of that sexy,
suave Stan I saw tonight.
Hey, it's not like you're hot and sexy 24/7 either.
What about your nasty, jagged toenail
that's always scratching up my leg in bed?
You ran over my foot with your car
and it never grew back right!
That was for a bit, and it was hilarious.
This is exactly my point.
I bet you don't talk to Korean spies about their toenails.
Of course not. They're Korean.
Well-manicured feet are part of the deal.
I'm going to bed,
right after I just destroy the bathroom.
(door closes)
Oh, Francine, you deserve better.
Klaus? Were you hiding back there?
Hiding? This is a normal bowl spot.
Listen, the reason Stan only romances spies
is because spies have something he needs,
and you don't.
That's not true. I have a --
Vaginas don't count.
They're, like, all over the place.
Throw a rock, you'll hit three.
Beep, beep, beep.
(birds chirping)
Last night was a doozy.
Woke up in a pool of blood with my thumb up my ass.
I think I'm sleeping wrong.
And I brought Miss Nicki Minaj back here
and had the squeakiest sex of my life.
Or did I?
Francine?
Honey, I feel awful about last night.
I know you can't be the same guy at home as you are at work,
so I came down to break me off a piece of sexy work Stan.
Right here, in front of everyone?
Oh, I think they'll leave us alone when they hear about
the double fudge brownies I left in the kitchen.
I get your drift, you sly little minx.
Attention, everyone!
There's brownies in the kitchen!
Follow me!
God, I'm bored, but things will pick up
as soon as the mail gets here.
Oh, yeah. The mail's going to be a game changer.
I mean, it's the mail.
The mail always delivers.
(tires screech)
Guess what! I'm into classic cars now.
Screw the mail!
Oh, yeah!
That's right. I'm going to be one of
those regal road dogs, showing off his wheels
in the Bob's Big Boy parking lot,
a real PTHer.
PTH stands for "Pop The Hood."
We have our own lingo, us car-heads.
"Car-heads" meaning "car likers."
Roger, this is so cool.
How'd you get into it?
Well, if you must know...
I was wheelbarrowing home from the liquor store
when I happened upon a vintage Mustang.
Now, normally, I couldn't care less about
some old hunk of junk, but something happened,
something truly amazing.
I mean, what's better than a thumbs-up from a mustache guy?
I don't know, two mustache guys giving you a thumbs-up?
Oh, no. You don't want that. Trust me.
The answer is nothing.
Nothing is better.
And if toolin' around in some old car
is my ticket to Thumb Town, then vroom, vroom, baby!
"Vroom, vroom." I like the sound of that.
How do we get involved?
It's Classic Cruisers night down at the Triple B --
Bob's Big Boy. More lingo.
So, how about we buff another coat of sparkle on this baby
and go get thumbed by a mustache guy?
Vroom, vroom!
Oh, yeah!
(laughter)
Oh, my God. We're so bad.
At eating.
Sir, a thumb drive with the identities of half
our undercover agents around the world was stolen
during our brownie break!
Well, those agents knew the risks.
The drive also had a copy of your secret chili recipe.
Aaaah!
We must stop at nothing to get that drive back.
Nothing! But who could have stolen it?
The Jackal? The Falcon? Who?
¶¶
The Beaver.
Sorry, Francine, are you talking to somebody?
I'm not Francine.
I'm a hot-ass super spy with stolen C.I.A. secrets.
¶¶
The Beaver.
Oh, I want a cool spy name.
I will be...
¶¶
The Beaver.
Hold on. That's my name.
No way!
We came up with the same spy name at the exact same time.
You were right, Klaus.
I didn't have anything Stan needs.
But now I do.
Or should I say the Beaver does?
And once the C.I.A. realizes
a lady spy has their thumb drive,
they'll send Stan to romance it away from her.
And "her" is me!
So it's me who's getting romanced by Stan,
because I have something he needs!
Yeah, I got it like five words in.
It's not that complicated.
Now I just need a website for the C.I.A. to find
advertising that the drive is for sale to terrorists.
I can make it!
I bleed HTML!
Okay, let's set this baby up with a CSS on the back end,
tweak the G.U.I., enable JavaScript,
register the site at geocities.com, and...voilà.
Klaus! It's breathtaking!
Hold on, hold on.
The cherry on top.
(midi music playing)
And it can't be turned off.
Sure, the outside looks clean,
but what about the engine?
(engine running)
Hmm, it's so clean, I can eat an egg off it.
Mmm. (sizzling)
I declare this vintage automobile perfectly restored.
Roger, look -- a mustache man!
He's giving you a thumbs-up!
And he's got the bacon for your eggs!
Shh.
Shut the (bleep) up, Steve.
Is that Jay Leno?
Yep. Classic cars are the perfect Leno bait.
See, this wasn't about Bob's Big Boy
mustache rides or whatever.
It's about revenge.
Wow, Roger's gotten a lot of use out of that dog-catcher pole.
Great purchase.
(beep) Guys, I have a Google alert
for the word "spies," and a new site just went up.
Ooh! Sparkly!
High tech!
This Beaver claims to be a hot-ass super spy
selling a stolen C.I.A. thumb drive.
How are we going to get that drive back?
We're not going to do anything.
We'll send in our heartbreaker.
Smith, get to work.
Right away, sir.
(midi music playing)
(music stops)
Oop!
Ooh! Stan's in the chat room.
"Hello, stranger.
Welcome to the Beaver's Dam."
Watch out, boys.
Things are about to get charming.
"Miss Beaver, I understand you have
a hot item you're looking to share."
(ding!)
Winky face.
A keyboard Casanova.
Ahh!
"A lot of men want my hot item.
Why should I give it to you?"
"You give me your thumb drive
and I'll give you my 6-inch floppy."
My God. This is so erotic.
I know. Stan's finally seducing me.
Although I never pictured you being part of it.
Funny, it's the only way I pictured it.
(beeping)
(keys clacking)
(beeping)
(laughs)
(keys clacking)
(giggling)
(keys clacking)
(rapid clacking)
(all gasping)
"There's a masquerade ball on Friday.
Be dressed in red and we'll make a little exchange."
"I was hoping for more of a big exchange."
"How about an average-sized exchange
from a very attentive exchanger,
one with the stamina for up to two exchanges?"
(muffled shouting)
Roger, this cage is supposed to be for the whole family,
but you're always the one using it.
And why exactly did you need to capture
a retired talk-show host?
(shouting continues)
(clang)
Simple. I was flipping through
my revenge book the other day and saw his name in there.
Whoa!
What did Jay Leno do to you?
Oh, I'll tell you what he did.
The year was 1978
and I had a weekly spot at the Comedy Store.
I was an angry comic, very political,
driven beyond all reason to shock people,
and in the audience one night was a young Jay Leno.
Oh, my God! Leno stole your jokes?
Yeah, no, now that I think of it,
he was actually just giving me helpful feedback.
I had a 10-minute bit about poisoning Jimmy Carter
and Jay suggested I talk about how airplane food
doesn't taste good instead.
That eventually led to my famous train-food bit
which got me kicked off "Star Search"
because it was too racist.
So Jay Leno didn't do anything wrong to you.
He's in the revenge book, Hayley.
That means he did something that is worthy
of taking revenge upon, Hayley.
Wonder what it was.
So, Jay, do you ever get nervous
that you're going to make a joke and nobody's going to laugh?
(muffled mumbling)
Come on, comic to comic.
(speaks indistinctly)
Shut up! How dare you distract me
from trying to remember why I hate you.
¶¶
Well, well, well.
If it isn't -- Francine?!
What the hell are you doing here?!
Who's Francine Smith?
I'm...
¶¶
The Beaver.
First off, that's Klaus' spy name.
And second, what the hell are you doing
stealing classified national secrets?
I wanted you to seduce me, like you do your spies.
When I do that, it's an act.
What we have is real.
It's the everyday stuff.
It's eating Bagel Bites while watching "Shark Tank"
until one of us falls asleep.
Now give me that drive.
Fine.
My purse! It's gone!
And the drive's inside it!
It's the Falcon!
(tires squeal)
Hurry! Get the valet to bring your car
and we'll chase him!
I-I didn't valet.
You know it's free, Stan.
But you've still got to tip him.
Maybe I should have married the Falcon.
Damn it, Francine!
The Falcon could be anywhere with that thumb drive.
The C.I.A. has no way to find him.
I'm sorry, Stan, but if the C.I.A.
can't get to him, maybe you need to...
leave it to the Beaver.
The show's called "Leave It to Beaver."
If you're adding words to make it work, abandon ship.
Listen, he knew I'd be at the masquerade ball.
He must have been monitoring my chat room.
Let's see if he still is.
"Well-played, Falcon, but I have even better
C.I.A. info than what was on that drive."
The trap is set.
I guess we've got some time on our hands.
How much you want to bet me I can fit inside the wall?
You owe me 10 bucks.
ROGER: No sleeping!
I will remember what you did to me.
I think I know.
Good question. Hmm.
Who is the current vice president?
Oh! "Stone Cold" Steve Austin!
(laughter)
You know what? Screw you!
People are stupid? That's your joke?
That the average Joes you've spent decades
pandering to are idiots?
Well, we're not. That's a stereostripe!
(laughter)
And there you have it,
the reason you want revenge on Jay Leno.
Actually, as humiliating as that was,
a casting agent saw it and booked me a role
on "NCIS: L.A."
It was huge for my career, just -- just huge.
¶¶
Freeze! NCIS L.A.!
Hands in the air!
(laughs) (laughs)
Only in NCIS: L.A.
(beep)
Stan!
The Falcon replied!
"Beaver, I want to buy new secrets.
Meet me at casino to discuss.
I send address."
STAN: Well, pack your bags, Beaver.
Looks like we're going on a mission.
Huh. I'm only at the stairs?
I thought I made it to the kitchen.
¶¶
(needle-scratch) I told you,
you're way over-dressed for Atlantic City.
Now, let's get that drive back.
He's not just going to give it to us.
That's why you're going to seduce him
and get him up to the hotel room
where I'll be waiting.
Sexy spy fun!
No. Life-and-death work.
And there's our man.
I believe we have business to discuss, Mr. Falcon.
Shall we adjourn to my room?
You expect me to go upstairs with a stranger?
(laughs)
I am more careful than that.
Before I go with you, I must know --
is the inspection certificate in the elevator up to date?
(both gasping)
Sorry to make it a whole big thing,
but I just don't trust elevators
when sign says "certificate on file
at front desk."
Okay, guys? This is funny.
This is really, really funny, like, classic me.
Turns out this isn't my revenge book at all!
It's my autograph book!
And to think I chemically blinded
Michael Chiklis for nothing!
So if Leno didn't do anything wrong,
can we let him go now?
Uh, yeah, Steve.
Is he always like this?
(flies buzzing)
Okay, who was in charge of feeding him?
Guys, come on.
Let's not let Jay Leno ruin yet another night.
Well, I'll be.
Eyes to the right, kids.
(ding!)
Huh.
That does feel kind of good.
Maybe we should have done the classic car thing.
Oh, well. Live and learn.
Here we are, all alone in my room.
Oh, God!
Tell your partner to throw out his weapon
and come out with his hands up.
Stan, he's got a gun!
This isn't fun anymore!
STAN: Okay, Falcon, you've got my gun.
How about sliding me a magazine?
I'm in the middle of a monster D here
and I'm tired of reading this shampoo bottle.
(clicking)
This is all my fault, Stan.
I got obsessed with you as this sexy spy.
But I get it now.
It's work and it's terrifying,
and I understand why you don't want to bring it home.
It's my fault too, baby.
I'm sorry, but I understand now.
Even ordinary women deserve to feel special from time to time.
Well, right now, I'd give anything to be home
in sweatpants with the regular old Stan I know.
That's it!
We know every little detail about each other,
like that you haven't filed down that jagged toenail in weeks.
(scratching)
What in the hell are you two --
Ew! Why you do that?
It's so gross! I can't look!
Stan, your toothpick!
Hyah!
Aaaaaaah!
That's what you get for "picking" a fight
with the C.I.A.
(thud)
And the winner of Best Couples Kill is...
Stan and Francine Smith!
(applause)
¶¶
STAN: We simply must stop
running into each other like this.
¶¶
Mmm! Mmm!
Oh, Stan.
I love it when you're romantic.
And I love it when you taste like Bagel Bites.
¶¶
Bye-bye! See you soon!
-- Captions by VITAC --