Well, that's the last of Dad's stuff.
It doesn't spark joy, which is why I'm getting rid of it.
It's the same reason I got rid of your father.
Jesus, Mom, harsh.
-Are you talking about me?
I'm not dealing with this!
I'm filled with light and love.
Light and love, asshole!
Oh, the hell you are!
Okay, I kind of get it.
Luckily, divorcing your father this year has finally given me time
to transform my pain into art.
"Knight of Passion, a sexventure by Tamiko Ridley."
"One woman's erotic personal journey
divorcing her narcissist husband
and dealing with a daughter with Asperger's."
Wait, what the hell? You think I have Asperger's?
-No. -Oh, okay.
See, you couldn't tell I was lying.
You ought to look that condition up. It gets worse over time.
Ciao, darling!
How was she? Did she look unhappy?
How fulfilled did she look, physically?
She's still Mom,
undercutting my confidence in ways I didn't know existed.
Man, what is all this stuff?
My old inventions.
Remember that robot teddy bear I invented for you?
And here's that pair of walkie-talkie headgear.
Remember your third grade photo?
Ugh! Dad, I can't keep track of every traumatizing thing you invented.
What's this?
Eh. Probably a garage door opener.
-Three, two, one.
Sorry I'm late. I've dealt with nuclear standoffs
less stressful than my parents' divorce.
-Ooh, girl, your eyes are sunken.
You look like if Steve Buscemi made it with Steve Buscemi. You okay?
Guys, I'm honestly fine.
I've been channeling my stress into this scream bag
and into my latest invention.
Behold, the Productivitron.
-Oh God, robot arms! -Christ Almighty!
I'm still working out the kinks,
but it's a set of bio-cranial robot arms that will increase my productivity 600%!
Now I can simultaneously finish paperwork, ignore my dad's texts,
and, you know, strangle anyone who crosses me, I guess.
Every day you edge closer to becoming a supervillain.
Oh God, what's that?
Is it a nuclear disaster?
No, it's even worse! It's a PR disaster!
I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. This is a 13-alarm crap fire.
I accidentally hit "reply all" to a company-wide email
where I made a very un-PC joke about reptoids.
-Question. What is reptoids?
Oh, just your classic shape-shifting lizard people
that live in secret amongst humanity.
Mm-hmm. We're talking politicians, celebrities.
Madonna's an iguana?
Reptoids provide a lot of our company's funding,
and in exchange, we prevent the world from doing anything about global warming
to keep them at their preferred body heat.
The system works.
If we wanna keep this year's funding,
we need to kiss ass at their annual Reptoid Gala
to get them to sign this contract.
It's being held at their stronghold at Yale.
Ah, I remember my days at Yale.
I was the most popular guy in my frat.
They hazed me every year.
-Sounds like they hated you?
Nice haze burn, Andre. You must really like me.
Do I have to go?
Follow-up question. Do I have to wear a dress?
Follow-up to the follow-up. Does it have to be a stain-free dress?
No, you can't recycle
your old Space Jam prom dress yet again, Reagan.
This is serious.
What? That dress is awesome.
And if you don't agree, you're a Mon--
Monstar. Yeah, yeah.
Normal dress!
And for the love of God, comb your hair.
It's a sign of respect.
Why should we give those reptoid freaks respect?
Half-man, half-animal. They're disgusting!
Easy, big guy. Have a mackerel.
Glenn, that's exactly the kind of no-no talk that could end our funding,
which is why I've signed you all up for reptoid sensitivity training.
Training? Hell yeah.
Who's ready to get some reps in?
Oh no.
Is "reps" offensive to say?
Hi, everyone. Welcome to Inhuman Resources.
I'm Mr. Mothman.
I'm a Mothman.
Let's talk about reptoids.
Be sure to follow these dos and don'ts to avoid a diplomatic incident.
Do offer them a cricket, mouse, or vole out of your pocket.
Fun fact about voles,
a vole ate my father.
Don't use loaded phrases like "hissy fit,"
or "see you later, alligator."
Got it. Be respectful. So when do we talk about the orgies?
-Boo! -Oh, come on!
What? Everyone knows reptoids have orgies.
Sign me up. I love sex, and I am fucking good at it.
This is okay to say in here, right?
This is an HR meeting!
Andre, Myc, shut the hell up, or I will castrate you.
Ha! Good luck figuring out which one of my tentacles is a dick.
Trick question, it's all of them.
As a final training step,
we're gonna practice the traditional reptoid greeting,
a firm, nonsexual hug to transfer warmth.
Hugs! This is my jam.
Hug? Like, with… with our bodies touching other people's bodies?
Mmm. Oh that's nice.
Mmm. Huh, back for seconds?
-You okay, Reagan? -Yeah, I'm… I'm just… I'm… I'm fine.
I'm ju… I'm practicing a hug that a normal person would do.
What was that?
I… I don't know.
Elliot Mothman, you need to finish your master's
and get the fuck out of this office.
Brett, congratulations.
As the one person who didn't assault anyone,
physically or sexually, in that meeting,
I want you to give the ceremonial toast at the gala tonight.
Nice!
And, Reagan, whatever this problem is, fix it.
We can't risk an episode like this in front of the reptoids.
I am so sorry about that. I don't know what came over me.
My body just auto-punched when I felt that hug close in.
-I'm done listening now. -What the hell is wrong with me?
Yeah, not gonna lie, even for you, that's Reaganier than usual.
Maybe you should tell J.R. you're gonna sit this one out.
Brett, I'm going to this goddamn party. I'm gonna figure this out and prove
that I am not the socially inept weirdo that everyone thinks I am.
Diggity denial. I love it.
Bullshit, lies, slander!
This novel is all thinly veiled horny criticism
of our lives.
Oh, you found Mom's book.
Listen to this.
"Lord Randrew was a terrible husband and an even worse father."
Me? A bad dad?
Would a bad dad make his little girl this?
Ugh. Why are you putting that horror show back together?
To set the record straight. I took care of your every need,
and I have a whole box of inventions to prove it.
Look at this! Boy-repelling pheromone spray, huh?
Who needs birth control now?
The Britney Spears perfume you gave me was literal boy repellent?
Yep. See? Any time you had a problem, I invented something to fix it.
"Invented something to fix it."
This place smells like Teslas and inbreeding.
Ooh, boy.
This fungi is ready for fun, guys!
What was that?
Nothing. Who's ready to partay?
Now, remember, everyone, we need that contract, so no slipups.
Don't point and stare. Don't touch their throat sacs.
And if a lizard asks you your favorite Hogwarts house, what do you say?
-Slytherin! -Hufflepuff. I mean, Slytherin.
Oh, honey, you ain't fooling anybody.
Password.
Oh hell, it's something in Latin, I think.
Uh, dra… draconius pluribus… I don't know.
Look, here's how much money's in my bank account.
Welcome.
-Welcome to the other side.
You wanna talk about connections? These preptiles literally have blue blood.
This is incredible.
I can't believe who's secretly a reptoid.
Anderson Cooper? Taylor Swift?
So the song "Shake It Off" was about how I shed my skin every thousand years,
and the song "Bad Blood" was about
how I drink blood out of my Grammys.
A toast to blood!
Save some blood for Paul Rudd!
So that's why Paul Rudd never ages.
Oh, oh, look. Sex masks. It's happening.
Reagan, did you take care of your hug problem?
-Let's just say I've got it in the bag.
Unless you have 30 years of therapy in there, I'm skeptical.
I'm going to find the diplomats. Brett, practice your speech.
Glenn, don't say anything racist.
Gigi, make sure Glenn doesn't say anything racist.
Just like Mel Gibson's Hanukkah special.
-Got it.
And Reagan…
Reagan?
Prepare to interact socially.
Reaction hologram on.
I am reacting appropriately
to the thing you just said. Small talk acknowledged.
Eh, that's a bit much. But these work!
Ha ha! Who's an antisocial weirdo now?
Not the girl who invented robot arms to hug strangers.
Oh my God, I sound insane.
Ah, Yale. I've gone from public streaker to public speaker.
If only my frat brothers could see me now.
Handjob?
PJ? Skwoo?
Up, down, roofie, roofie,
become a Supreme Court justice.
And nut punch!
Oh man, I haven't been punched in the nuts in years.
What are you two doing here?
Don't you know this event is for…
…izard-lay eople-pay?
So about that…
What? You guys were reptoids all this time?
Why didn't you tell me? I'm your frat brother.
I gave you my kidney.
And it was delicious.
Honestly, we only revealed our secrets to brothers who reached level six.
-You never got that high.
Guys, I'm Brett Hand, campus legend.
Whatever it takes, I'm getting that ring.
I don't know. I mean, first you'd have to prove your loyalty
-by stripping down and--
Wow, you just didn't even wait for me to finish my sentence.
Let the hazing begin!
Reagan, there you are.
Try not to look like you're getting a colonoscopy.
I need to find the reptoid honchos and--
-J.R. -Ah!
Oh! There you are, you old rascals.
Reagan, meet my favorite reptoidsentatives,
Barb Shrike and Zarthax Griswold Walton of the Reptoid High Council.
Good evening, Your, uh, Lizardness.
Oh, we're not that important.
It's not like we control the world… yet!
You know, all this laughing is putting me in a contract-signing mood.
I've got next year's budget right here
if you wanna just give her the old John Hancock.
Not so fast, J.R.
Don't think we missed your hilarious email.
If you want us to embrace your funding,
we need to know that your company takes us seriously.
We absolutely do.
Right, Reagan?
Uh…
Well, that was an impressively firm hug.
I think you might have popped a disc back into place.
-Oh, my turn.
Wow, can you be my chiropractor?
Not for free, I can't.
She gets it. And I absolutely love your skin.
How do you get it that scaly?
Hey, fuck you… using moisturizer!
The drier the better, right, baby?
Mmm, I like this one.
J.R., let's talk contracts after the ceremony.
And make sure you bring her.
Ha! I did it! I think I just conquered my weird mental hang-up
without any self-examination.
-Yeah! -You're a hit!
Ooh, let me introduce you to Al Gore.
My real name is Alligator Gore.
-Huh? -Oh. Come on, man. Where's the action?
I'm peaking. I don't wanna miss this.
One of these has gotta be the secret door. Okay, what is it?
Secret door, secret door…
Ugh, these are just actual books.
Books are like the opposite of sex!
This place is such a croc tease.
-Harder, my bros!
Whoo. Yeah, you got it.
Don't patronize me, Skwoo. Make me earn it.
Eh, you're right. We've been holding back on you.
Uh, it's time to take you to the Chamber of Secrets.
Reveal your secrets to the chamber.
Here's one. Um, I stay awake at night…
…because I don't even know what my favorite color is,
and I'm afraid I don't have a real personality.
Wow, that is dark.
Speaking of dark, catch you on the other side.
Hiss, hiss. So lovely to meet you.
Lovely.
Reagan, you're the life of this party.
That's the most natural smile I've ever seen out of Mark Zuckerberg.
Huh. You never should've doubted me, J.R.
With this brain and these arms, I can do literally anything.
Everyone to the main stage. The celebration is about to begin!
Boo! Go back to your terrariums!
All rise for the reptilian anthem!
Let's get down to lizness.
We reptoids have had a great decade.
Thanks to propaganda in the media,
we have made society more tolerant of our kind,
from the Geico Gecko to The Shape of Water.
We even got K. Rool in Smash! We did it, everyone!
The world temperature is rising.
The time is coming, brethren.
Soon we shall fulfill the prophecy,
overthrow humanity, and become the true rulers of the world!
They say that every year, but they're never gonna do it.
And now, a look back at the reptoids we lost this year.
-It's almost time for the speech.
Where's Brett?
Oh man, I can't wait till I get to level six.
I bet that's when they let you into the group text chat.
Hey, my blindfold!
Oh my God! Oh my God!
He's just as pathetic as he was in college.
Hey, hey. Who am I? Who am I?
Uh, I think I'm popular, but nobody can stand me.
Brett Hand.
Ooh!
He got it! He got it!
-Bros? But I thought I was a legend.
Maybe you'll be my friends.
Ah! Ah! Ah! Rats!
Rats are biting my dick!
…soon hear from our human partner.
This is a disaster. Brett's missing!
And I can't give the speech, because I spilled dip on my crotch,
and I cannot stand up!
Reagan, I need you to give the speech.
What, me?
You said it yourself. You've conquered all your issues.
-But-- -Go, go! You're going to crush it.
And now, please give a warm welcome to Cognito Inc.
Ah! What is up, reptoids?
Anybody here from a… a subterranean lair?
But seriously,
reptoids, humans, we're not so different.
We all have hearts, minds, um,
cloacas?
I do have a cloaca.
Sure, we may have messed up in the past
but not as bad as those idiot Atlantians.
-Fuck Atlantis!
Oh my God.
I'm Reagan Ridley,
and on behalf of Cognito Inc.,
let us raise a glass to our continued alliance.
Oh, thank Christ.
Reagan Ridley from Cognito Inc., everyone.
Ha! Bring it in, buddy.
-That's too tight. Help.
-You're crushing me! -Wait, sorry. Let me just-- Reverse!
Oh God, my arms! My arms!
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.
She's trying to run! Grab her!
Sorry! I didn't mean that!
-Hmm.
Huh?
Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
-We're not friends at all!
Go, go, go!
Are you also being chased by a horde of rats?
What? No. Why are you naked?
Tonight was complicated!
Please don't cut our funding. I have mistresses to feed.
Funding?
After what just happened, you're lucky we don't launch war on humanity right now.
There's gotta be a way out of this. What about a human sacrifice, huh?
I carry a saber of sacrifice at all times.
This is a disaster. Where's Reagan?
The heir to the Griswold Walton fortune
was rushed to the hospital tonight after having his arms brutally ripped off.
He had this to say.
The lizard army will bathe in the blood of man!
In other news, global temperature raised
one degree today.
Well, I'm definitely a fugitive from the law now.
I don't know why I can't hug anyone without losing my fucking mind.
You know, Reagan, I get mad social anxiety too,
but talking about it with my therapist has cut my panic attacks in half!
Brap, brap, brap!
Are you saying that I should…
…talk about my feelings?
When's the last time you were hugged? Hit me.
The last time I was hugged was…
Huh.
Wow, I actually can't remember.
That's really weird, right?
You'll figure it out. You always do.
Just like I'm gonna figure out a way to impress PJ and Skwoo
and get to level six,
because I need everyone to like me, and I freak out if they don't.
Brett, why do you care about those guys?
They pushed you in a ventilation shaft and covered you with rats.
Yeah, but isn't that what friends do?
No. Friends give each other rides and good advice.
Come out with your hands up, you pink-fleshed motherfuckers!
You tell 'em, Bill.
-Thanks so much. Be kind to one another.
-Okay.
Time to load up my Emmy cannon.
I'll take my tea in the panic room, thank you.
-Anderson Cooper coming to you live from--
Uh, sorry, one moment.
Coming to you live from the Reptoid Supreme Court.
Well, Reagan, the bad news is,
if you lose this trial, it may mean war.
The good news is, I got you the best lawyer who cost us nothing.
Don't worry about it, honey. I can convince anyone of anything.
Just today, I convinced myself I was a lawyer.
Please welcome our high justice of the Reptoid Court,
the immortal queen of darkness herself,
Judge Judy!
-Judge Judy!
Thank you, bailiff. I have a shoot in 20 minutes,
so let's make this quick. What are the charges?
Your Honor, Ms. Ridley ripped off our leader's arms
in an act of hostile bigotry towards reptoids.
-Boo! -Boo!
This true? You rip his arms off?
Yes, technically. But--
All right, rip her arms off and call it even. Thank you.
Your Honor, please.
I intend to prove that my client might be, damn, weird as shit,
but she doesn't discriminate. She's like that to everybody.
The defense calls Brett Hand!
Oh yeah, Reagan can't hug anybody.
See this bruise on my face?
That's from one of her hugs, and we're friends.
I don't wanna diagnose, but maybe Asperger's?
Oh, come on!
I plead the Fifth
and the Second!
She's always had the hots for me but won't admit it.
I mean, can you believe that?
She's on her 95th HR violation.
But who's counting?
Me, I'm counting. Mr. Mothman is counting.
I think this is working.
Yeah, I love this. It feels great.
Sorry I'm late.
A father should never miss his daughter's first sentencing.
On the bright side, I finally finished reassembling Bear-o, so…
…that's something.
You brought that thing?
Dad, this is serious.
I could be going to jail for a long time,
all because for some mysterious reason,
I am unable to fucking hug.
Hello, Reagan. Would you like to give Bear-o a hug?
A hug, a hug, a…
Uh-oh. Someone needs a hug.
There, there. It's me, Bear-o. Initiating hug.
No, Bear-o!
-Initiating hug. -Agh! Bear-o!
-Initiating hug. -No, Bear-o!
-Initiating hug.
Holy shit. You never hugged me.
You made a robot bear do it instead.
And I was so traumatized that I repressed the memory for years!
That's why I can't hug anyone without losing my shit!
Order! Ms. Ridley.
Your Honor, allow me to call Rand Ridley to the stand.
I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth,
and nothing but the truth, so help me Godzilla 2000.
Would you call yourself a good father?
I gave you a roof and stellar genetics,
so despite what you may read in any poorly written airport rags,
yeah, I was a good father.
I even created this amazing robot
so it could hug you whenever I wasn't around,
which was always.
What, people? That touchy-feely crap makes you weak.
My outside-the-box parenting
raised a girl who's strong enough to nearly murder a diplomat.
Bear-o is proud of Reagan.
Oh, shut the fuck up, Bear-o.
Your shitty parenting messed me up for life,
and now I guess I'm broken forever.
Hey, look, you know, family is an experiment.
And maybe not all my experiments are perfect.
I guess we could give this a try.
All right. I mean, is this doing anything for you?
-No, not really. -Yeah, it feels weird.
-Right? That's what I'm saying. -Super forced.
-Why do people do this?
-That helped.
Well, I've seen enough.
Ms. Ridley, you've clearly learned some bad habits from this man.
I'm surprised you don't rip everyone's arms off.
But I can't just let you off the hook,
so I'm sentencing you to court-ordered therapy
in the form of…
…the traditional reptoid group hug.
Wait, what's this now?
I'm deciding this is okay.
Oh God, this is an orgy, isn't it?
Oh yes. Yes, it is!
-Gavel. Give me the gavel.
Give me the gavel!
This is it. It's happening.
Hello, HR. Who's ready for some gross misconduct?
Incoming!
Hey, guys, wait for…
You know what? No.
I don't need to have sex with 100 strangers just to fit in,
'cause I have a new frat now, Cognito Inc.
I'm gonna watch though. I have questions.
Zarthax, I hope you'll accept these as an apology.
They might be helpful till your real ones grow back.
Well, these will do nicely.
What do you say, J.R.? Ready to re-up?
Really? After all this?
Business is business.
We were hoping you'd found an upgrade since Rand's departure,
and as far as we can tell, you have.
Maybe physical boundaries are good. Maybe no one should touch each other ever.
Want a ride, kiddo?
Yeah, I'll take a ride.
Hey, Dad, I just wanted to say…
…I tolerate you.
I tolerate you too, kiddo.
-So, one question. -Please don't ask me if you're a good dad.
Eh? I was gonna ask if you think I could pull off a goatee.
Of course I'm a good dad.
-I just saved your ass. -No, I saved my ass.
-Okay, well… -Is anyone taping this?
Just kidding. I am.
I'm sorry, sir, but you tested positive for iguanarrhea.
-Motherfucker! -I wasn't done.
Iguanarrhea, clawmydia, sssyphilis,
scalebies, explosive cloaca disease.
Oh yeah, and mushroom herpes.
Wait. What was that last one?