TICK: Secret identities, never been a fan.
Why play billionaire playboy,
alcoholic industrialist,
or a mild-mannered something-or-other
when you can be a 24/7 champion of goodness?
NEWS ANCHOR: Cat-Man-Dude, Hoboken's half-man,
half-cheetah superhero, was arrested by police today
for a series of maulings outside a local YWCA.
-MAN: Cat-Man, what happened out there? -Listen to me.
Those people weren't mauled.
They were mangled.
I'm being framed by The Mangler!
NEWS ANCHOR: Another shocking development
in the Cat-Man-Dude case.
In an unprecedented move,
the district attorney's office
has unmasked the jailed superhero,
revealing his true identity as Mads "Murph" Murphy,
a local dairy farmer and owner of a sanctuary
for retired circus animals.
DETECTIVE GREEN: After the papers printed his real name
and photo, The Terror's goons broke into
Cat-Man-Murphy's compound,
executed his puma wife and their litter of child-kittens.
-That's messed up. -On a bunch of levels.
So the Feds enacted the 28th Amendment.
Prohibits law enforcement from exposing a super's identity,
or place of residence.
Also means a lot of paperwork.
You sure you want to go down this road?
-Tell us again what happened. -Uh...
(men grunting)
It was like he was looking for some place to keep his knife,
and no place was good enough.
This was the guy in black,
the "robo-ninja," you said.
No. I said that he was a highly-skilled,
tech-based stealth assassin with a metal face
and superhuman reflexes.
Okay. Well, I already wrote down "robo-ninja."
Look, only a superhero can request protection
under the 28th; we don't have any of those here.
Okay. Well, I am one,
so, you know, you can't unmask me.
-What's your name? -Arthur.
Your superhero name is Arthur?
Y-Yeah, yes.
Yes. My superhero name is Arthur,
which is-- that is different from my actual name.
Registration number?
Your number with AEGIS.
My number, my number with AEGIS. Right, yeah, uh...
It's, um, uh-- I'm sorry,
I just haven't been carded in so long. Uh, nine.
(Arthur sniffs)
Uh, o-one. Nine-one.
S-Seven...
uh, teen.
Something you two need to see.
(door closes)
Security camera picked this up just before units arrived.
DETECTIVE GREEN: Holy hell. Is that... ?
DETECTIVE WHITE: Overkill.
Looks like the little guy is telling the truth.
I'm gonna cut him loose.
You don't want to check him out with AEGIS first?
That agency's a bureaucratic black hole.
Could be weeks before we hear back.
Let's get a photo for the database, then kick him.
We got bigger problems if Overkill's in town.
-(gate closes) -Wait. Overkill? That was Overkill?
(camera snaps)
* *
ARTHUR: It's Overkill. It's Overkill.
Overkill.
(heavy thud on pavement)
TICK: Arthur.
How we doing?
Settling into the whole destiny thing?
I thought I might give you a helpful hint or two--
guidelines, really.
-Uh, mainly about all the stabbing. -What?
Look. I saw what you left of your attackers
back in that alley, and, uh, I have to say,
I found your approach a little bit on the murdery side.
I didn't kill those men, Tick.
Whew. I am so glad to hear you say that.
I was afraid we were gonna have to have "the talk."
-That was Overkill. -My thought exactly.
No. I'm saying it was this guy called Overkill.
He was an agent for AEGIS.
He spent years in classified war zones
as some kind of government-trained assassin.
They say he had a psychotic break
and just... went rogue.
I'm lucky to be alive.
That's the unmistakable rush one feels
just before embarking on a manhunt.
-Manhunt? -Yes, man!
Hunt! Let us hunker down
over the spore of this walking bloodbath
-before the trail goes cold. -Okay, Tick.
I'm gonna go upstairs and I'm gonna go to bed,
because I have work in the morning, okay?
Fair enough.
Wise not to stalk your prey
-bereft of rested mind. -No, I mean,
I mean, I have, like, real work. You know, my job?
At my office. I-I work at Fishladder & Sons Accounting.
I promised my sister I would go,
and she's picking me up in the morning.
Wait a sec. Is this one of those secret identity deals?
'Cause I have opinions on those.
No, it's-it's my only identity, okay?
I'm-I'm done. I'm done trying to convince the world
that The Terror is still alive.
I just want my life to go back to normal.
The longer I wear this suit,
it just makes me a target
and same for everyone else I care about.
That suit is the key to unlocking the true Arthur.
Destiny bestowed it on you for a reason.
Well, uh, you and-and Destiny are not allowed in.
You want me to use the fire escape?
No. I-I just, I want you to leave me alone.
Please. Just...
(door closes)
* *
(door creaks)
Hello? Is there anyone here
trying to kill me?
(exhales deeply)
* *
(sighs)
Wait. Stop, stop, stop.
Look, I'll just give you the suit back
and we can pretend this whole thing never happened, okay?
This business on your wall.
You had a 16-year-old news clipping
about a lab explosion.
And you're trying to link it to this new one in Urmania.
Why?
I think you know the answer to that question.
If I knew the answer, I wouldn't be asking.
-Well, unless you were trying to toy with me. -(electrical zaps)
Okay. It's The Terror.
It's The Terror, he's behind it and others.
Where'd you get that from?
Same M.O.
Experimental weaponry disappears from laboratories, transports.
Scientists get killed in explosions.
(mutters)
The Terror's dead.
I was there.
I watched Superian kill him.
I mean, they found his teeth, for Chrissake.
If The Terror was alive,
I would be the one to know.
What are staring at?
Uh, nothing, nothing.
I'm the only left that knows who you are,
where you live.
The rest of my crew is wiped out,
-largely thanks to you and your blue friend. -We had nothing
to do with those guys in the alley the other night.
-That was all... -Overkill.
Yeah... I heard.
Did he say anything to you about me?
What?
Uh, n-no. He just...
he said, you know, "Take off the suit."
And then, he, uh, he said the... (stammers)
What's so special about this thing, anyway?
I don't know.
Maybe you should ask your new buddy.
(echoes): Overkill.
YOUNG ARTHUR: Christian Soldier and his pious pooch, Onward;
the Mighty Atlas, Human GPS;
Sedona, the Wiccan Warrior;
Sharp Shooter, the Gregarious Gunslinger.
-(humming tune) -YOUNG ARTHUR: And their leader,
Man of Platinum, Uncle Samson.
Together, they make up the fantastic fighting force,
The Flag Five. (hums tune)
Arthur, buddy, it's late.
-You got school in the morning. -Okay.
Why are you all dressed?
Oh, I'm flying tonight.
Can I fly?
Well, maybe someday you'll... (gasps)
(groans, blood spurts)
Morning, sunshine.
(gasps)
(distant siren wailing)
(sighs)
Shit.
(razor buzzing)
(scope trilling)
(razor buzzing)
(razor stops)
(scope trilling)
(sighs)
Police have just released the name
of the landscaper who was assaulted in his van
and subjected to a radioactive blast.
Clifford Richter of Notlob, Illinois
was taken to St. Eva Marie Presbyterian Hospital,
where his condition was listed
as stable, but growing at an accelerated rate.
Can I just get the usual with no sugar, please?
You need to do something first.
Oh, the poncho. Yeah, okay.
I have money.
I'm talking about your friend, The Tick Man.
-TICK: Mmm. -He will not leave my store.
(sighs) Yeah, I'll take care of it.
-Arthur! -Hi, Tick.
What are you doing here?
Not buying anything, that's for sure.
Arthur, this is Ouma,
Goat's grandmother.
-Goat? -GOAT: What?
-His name is Goat? -Of course he's Goat.
You should really learn your neighbors' names, Arthur.
It will make group hugs less awkward for everyone.
Ouma's thanking me for saving her kitty
with this delicious plate of...
How do you pronounce this again?
Tuwo shinkafa.
(laughs)
Let's just call it "rice."
Hey, do you mind if I have a word with him quickly?
Thank you.
-Want some rice? -No, absolutely not. Listen, Tick,
I was thinking about what you said the other night,
and I think you're right about going after Overkill.
Now, that's the salve for my burning itch.
(pounds table)
You and I delivering that homicidal maniac
to the unyielding bosom of Lady Justice.
No, no, Tick. Tick. Tick, Tick.
Not me, okay?
Leave me out of this.
I told you, I'm-I'm done with this whole crime fighting thing.
I think you should go catch Overkill.
See if he knows anything about that suit you gave me.
Question-asking is more your métier, chum.
I'm more at home with the face-punching.
Now, I say you slap on said suit,
and we both go and take this character down
mano a us.
That's the thing, I don't have the suit anymore
because that electric witch lady with the eye took it.
Oh, Arthur.
You let Miss Lint take your suit?
Not my suit. It's-it's not my suit.
I just think it could give us a clue
as to what The Terror is up to.
What he's planning.
And if we know that, then that might lead us to find him.
But you said you were done.
Yeah. Yeah, because I am.
Very much so. I'm done with all of that.
I-I have a normal life to live, Tick.
I-I have a job to do, and I have medication to take
and I have responsibilities.
Your responsibility is in the fresh out there with me,
fighting the ever-churning butter churners of evil.
That's the big time. That's the show.
That is who you are.
Stop! Stop! Stop!
Stop telling me who I am.
Okay? You don't know who I am.
You don't know anything about me.
I don't know who you are. I-I don't know what you are.
I don't know where you come from.
-(phone vibrating) -Oh.
It's my sister. She's waiting outside.
Just... tell me if you find him, okay?
TICK: Arthur!
ARTHUR: What, Tick?
If I'm to procure this fiend,
I'll need a finely-honed description.
Okay. It-- he's hard to miss, okay?
It's an all-black outfit, skull helmet,
-and smells like death. -I'm on it.
-Great. -Right as soon as I go back and
finish my delicious plate of...
Tuwo shinkafa.
(laughing)
Good morning, Arthur's sister.
It's Tick, right?
And you're Spot.
Dot.
Mm-hmm.
So, you gonna tell me what's going on?
That's the second time I've seen you hanging around that guy.
I'm not hanging around The Tick, okay?
He was just in the neighborhood.
I thought you stopped trusting superheroes a long time ago.
Yeah, I did. I do.
-Yeah. -All right.
Just after your small relapse,
I just want to make sure you're doing okay.
Do you still have those nightmares?
No. I haven't, I haven't in a long time, so...
Uh, so, remember, you are helping me set up
for Walter's birthday party tomorrow.
(sighs) Oh, God.
Are you really gonna make me go to that?
Yes. It's our stepfather's 60th. You have to go.
And you are going to be nice to him for Mom's sake.
He's just so weird.
Walter is not weird.
He's always asking me about my feet.
(laughs)
"Arthur, how are your feet doing?
Are your feet well?"
All right, yes, the feet thing, that's...
-that's definitely weird. -Yeah. Yeah.
But to be fair, he does that with everyone.
Like that makes it less weird?
That he does that with everybody?
Well, it's no weirder than you palling around
-with a blue bug. -(snorts) I'm not pal...
Don't worry about The Tick, okay? He's harmless.
NEWSCASTER (on TV): And coming up,
-researchers at the Department of Agriculture -(door chimes)
continue to be baffled by the depletion
of the world's bee population.
This perverse
and, indeed, baffling phenomena to be of grave concern
-for the coming generations. -(bottle cap drops)
Honey is something we all need and love,
and the bees' precious pollen keeps the world going 'round.
-(cash register opens) -We may never know the cause
of this sad development.
This window's closed, ne'er-do-wellers.
No withdrawals today.
What the hell is this?
-Give us our money. -I... I want to.
I'm trying, trying.
Now, before I send you both packing,
either of you reprobates know of a fella named Overkill?
Shoot this clown.
(gun cocks)
(bullet ricochets)
Ow! What the fuck, man?
How could I have possibly predicted that?
You go and tell your boss
-Ah! -this establishment is under my protection.
In fact, the entire block!
-And the city! -GOAT: Wait!
Come back. I have your money. It is here!
Put your money away.
They're going to kill me.
Not on my watch.
Well, got to go.
I'm off to hunt a villain,
or perhaps an anti-hero.
I'll know more once I've found him.
(door closes)
SUPERVISOR: Well, I, for one,
am very grateful that you're feeling better.
We could really use you right now.
It's been an absolute madhouse around here.
We've had to double up on work spaces.
Everest,
sorry you weren't here for the picking of cubicle mates.
You got Jergen.
No, not Jergen.
I can hear you.
Oh, hey, uh, sorry about that, Jergen.
It's pronounced "Yergen."
Apology declined.
Well, I'll let you two get reacquainted for a moment.
But then it's back to those 1021s
and BRF forms.
Thank you.
So, Everest,
what's your take on the landscaper guy from the news?
The one they say is growing out of control.
Oh, I-I haven't really...
Starting to call him V.L.M.: the Very Large Man.
Personally, I don't even think he even exists.
Probably some hoax started by the liberal elite.
Just a bunch of snowflakes,
putting out their fake news to scare patriotic,
uneducated Americans.
(grunts)
MAN: Hey, boss.
Lint's here.
Lint.
Well, look at you. Living up to your name.
Said the man who adopted the name of a pharaoh
with a really, really short reign.
Hmm.
What do you want, Ramses?
You know damn well what I want.
The suit that was stolen from the Urmanian shipment.
You swore to me you were gonna get it back, so...
where is it?
Looks like the guy who ripped it off
may have skipped town.
Uh-uh. I don't buy it.
I just got word Big Blue ran off two of my collectors
at some market.
I'm not talking about him.
I'm talking about his partner.
The partner.
You still haven't I.D.'d that asshole?
Hey, I've been a little hindered ever since I lost my crew.
You may want to cut me some slack.
I got all this pressure pressing down on me,
and the best you can do is blame Overkill for your screwup?
(clicks tongue)
That's all I need is that psycho cutting into our business.
Rumor on the street is that he's looking for The Terror.
Well, that's nuts.
Terror's been dead for more than a decade.
There were remains.
How much proof do people need?
Right. The teeth.
I'll let you know when I find your precious suit.
(footfalls approaching slowly)
Think you can just forget about me, you little pissant?
I don't think so.
Go ahead, try and bury me.
Put me out of your thoughts.
I'm never gonna leave you alone.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
You're here. Y-You're really here.
I've always been here.
Because I'm alive, you punk.
Living inside your pathetic little skull.
That pain you feel between your eye sockets?
That's me, nailing up my black light posters.
You think you've got what it takes to find me?
To stop me? I don't think so!
'Cause you got nothing!
(yells)
JERGEN: The physics don't even add up.
His giant lungs wouldn't be able to absorb enough oxygen.
He'd pass out in minutes.
The government's just trying to create public hysteria
as an excuse to impose regulations.
-(knock on glass) -TICK: Arthur! -Just like they put fluoride
in our water so they can brain-control us all.
TICK (muffled): Arthur!
JERGEN: Can't really think and I'm trapped in this box.
(Jergen continues muttering)
(muffled): It's me! Hi.
(whispers): The window. That one.
Mm.
Hey, Arthur. You almost done with this secret identity
pretend-job thingy?
Tick, I-I've barely been here for an hour.
I know, it's interminable.
Okay. Have you found Overkill yet?
I looked. I asked around.
I got confused about who I was looking for again.
And then I spent about a half hour
trying to find my way out of a bus terminal.
-You didn't find him. -Alas, no.
But I did figure out what the problem is.
I said to myself, "Tick, you need Arthur's brain
"and some kind of voice box with which to express
Arthur's thoughts and ideas."
And then it hit me: Arthur has both of those things
in a neat little package called "you."
-Tick, you're a superhero. -Uh-huh.
A-And you've managed being a superhero
for-for a long time before I came along, right?
One would imagine.
W-Well, what does that mean?
-(inhales) -You don't know?
Well, here's the thing, chum.
Didn't really occur to me till you asked me the other day
where I came from, but, uh,
I'm a wee bit fuzzy about that.
Define "a wee bit" for me.
-I can't remember anything before the last few days. -What?
I said, "I can't remember anything before..."
Yeah, no, no, I heard you, Tick, I ju...
-D-Did you suffer some kind of head trauma? -Okay.
You actually just have no idea who you are.
Well, I do know a few things.
I know that I am definitely The Tick.
I know I'm most definitely a superhero.
And I get a little confused when you're not around.
-Even though we just met. -Did we?
Yeah. Yeah, we did.
Okay, Tick,
-I'll tell you what. -What?
You help me with Overkill,
and I'll try to help you figure out your past.
-You will? -Yeah.
Well, thank you, friend.
You're a very caring and thoughtful sidekick.
I'm... not a sidekick,
but you're welcome.
Now, unless Overkill is planning
to murder me in my office in broad daylight,
I-I think it's probably smart to search elsewhere.
Got you. Good thinking, Arthur's brain and voice box.
(Tick grunts, whoops)
(line whizzing)
(man yelling)
(groaning)
(man grunts)
Stosh, what are you doing?
STOSH: This guy's got a slug in his shoulder.
-I'm trying to get it out. -No.
-What do you mean "no"? -You don't remove the bullet.
You just repair the damage.
Taking it out can cause way more problems.
-You sure about that? -Of course not.
I'm only a licensed paramedic and a medical student.
What would I know of such things?
You watch too much TV.
You really gonna leave the bullet in me?
That's the plan.
Just think,
every time you go through a metal detector,
you'll have a lasting reminder of whoever shot you.
(scoffs) You don't need a reminder.
You don't forget a giant, blue, super man-bug.
NARRATOR (on TV): It is only then that the crew realizes
the horrible mistake they've made.
CAPTAIN: Oh, it was clearly the Mighty Sea-Man,
King of the Briny Deep.
In our rush to haul in that huge school of sturgeon,
he accidentally got swept up.
It was pretty embarrassing for all of us.
NARRATOR: Now the captain and crew must...
WOMAN (over PA): Special report. Attention.
-(alarm buzzes) -This is not a drill.
Please make your way toward the nearest stairwell
and evacuate the building.
Attention. Attention.
-Oh... man. -This is not a drill.
Elevator service is suspended at this time.
(lights buzzing)
-Oh, God. -I need the suit, jackass.
-I-I don't have the suit, okay? -Don't you lie to me.
I searched your apartment, jackass.
It's not in my backpack, okay? Please just don't murder me.
I'm not after you. I'm after The Terror.
TICK: Excuse me, friend.
I was just making my way across town
when I heard the unmistakable sound
of a zip line grapple hook gun being fired.
Overkill, you and I need to have "the talk."
-(beeps) -Uh-oh.
-Your hockey puck has a message on it. -(device beeping)
Oh!
(laughing)
Quite a kick.
(Overkill grunting)
That, not so much.
Ha. Tickles.
By the way, you're cleaning up this mess, mister.
(yells)
Settle down, killer. You're not going anywhere.
(laughing): Sensitive!
(grunts) Good night, Irene.
-Damn. -Tick, watch out.
Yahtzee!
(Tick chuckles)
(grunting)
Oh.
TICK: Get off my nerves!
Oh!
(screams)
Tick?!
(Tick splats)
(car alarm blaring)
(woman screams)