(buzzing)
(synthesizer music)
♪♪ ♪♪
(buzzing)
♪♪ ♪♪
VOICE: Hey.
♪♪ ♪♪
(trippy electronic music)
♪♪ ♪♪
(jazz music)
JOHN: No, David, it doesn't matter
if you're in the forest.
The phrase isn't, "If a tree falls in the forest,
‐can David hear it?" ‐Yeah, it is.
If a tree falls in the forest, can you hear it?
That's me. They're talking about me.
"You" could be anyone.
In fact it doesn't even have to be a human.
I can only be me, John. You know that.
Excuse me. Are you John Hunchman?
‐I am. ‐Uh, my name's Jenna.
I got your name from Kristen Mills,
my best friend.
You found her missing pom‐poms.
Ah, the mystery of the dumbest cheerleader of all time.
‐Sorry? ‐Uh, nothing.
Uh, how can we help you?
My parents make me take piano lessons and‐‐
BOTH: You want us to murder your parents.
‐Uh, I'm afraid we can't. ‐No.
‐I want to take piano lessons. ‐What?
(laughs) Then you're dumb.
I think the man my parents hired
isn't a real piano teacher.
‐Go on. ‐His name is Royce Delorax.
JOHN: Mm‐hmm.
‐(piano keys clunking) ‐Doing great, buddy.
JENNA: He makes me do all this weird stuff to the piano.
(clattering)
This is amazing. Seriously.
You outdid yourself.
JENNA: MY parents don't care because he told them
it's "avant‐garde."
Well, what do you want us to do?
I want you to find out if it's real music.
If it's not, I want my parents' money back.
Hmm, of course. We'll take the case.
Excuse me.
Uh, we'd better get those CDs to go.
(exciting music)
♪♪ ♪♪
So how can we figure out if Jenna's teacher is legit?
You know, I know a lady who could help us,
but we would have to bring a lot of singles.
Singles? Why?
Are we going to Players After Dark?
‐DAVID: No. ‐JOHN: Crotches N' Company?
‐DAVID: No. ‐JOHN: Wet Spots on Sixth.
‐DAVID: No. ‐JOHN: Jay O'Staynes?
‐DAVID: No. ‐JOHN: Lumps Unlimited?
‐DAVID: No. ‐JOHN: Liquid Temptations.
‐DAVID: No. ‐JOHN: Squirt City?
‐DAVID: That closed. ‐JOHN: Dehumanizers!
Or one of the other local strip clubs that I've read about?
No, just bring dollar bills, all right?
Hmm, I always wanted to go to Dehumanizers.
David Purefoy, you've grown.
Are you keeping up with your piano lessons?
No, ma'am, I was seduced by another mistress:
Lady Electric Guitar.
‐Hmm. ‐JOHN: Miss Lee,
I can't believe you taught David piano.
Barely.
What was that awful song you wanted to learn how to play?
Oh, "Shredded Humans" by Cannibal Corpse?
Can you imagine?
I'm teaching Mozart and he's talking about,
"I wanna learn Cannibal Corpse where they sing like"...
(mimics roaring)
Yes, his taste in music is problematic, and guess what?
He still hasn't learned that song.
DAVID: I will, though.
Well, how can I help you boys?
Miss Lee, is there a tradition of musicians
doing unusual things to pianos?
Hmm, John Cage put nails and screws in the strings.
He called it "prepared piano."
(laughs) Uh‐huh.
As in, "Be prepared to hear some fucked up piano?"
‐David! ‐Sorry.
‐(sighs) ‐Give me a single.
Oh, you know Stockhausen wrote concert pieces
where the performer punched the piano.
‐Of course! ‐Whoa.
A public transgression of norms surrounding high culture.
Oh, but mind you,
those composers knew their fundamentals.
Scales, music theory.
Remember Proverbs 1:7?
Fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge
but fools despise wisdom and instruction.
Bible boom.
‐You give me a dollar. ‐Uh‐uh!
Wisdom and instruction must come
before all that other craziness.
What would you have done if you had caught David
‐hitting your piano? ‐Oof.
Oh, dear.
She definitely would have kicked me in these nuts.
(groans)
And may I presume one dollar for each nut?
‐For each of these nuts, yes. ‐All right.
♪♪ ♪♪
(romantic music playing)
‐MAN: (humming) ‐(gulps)
(humming)
‐Are you nervous? ‐Yes, of course I'm nervous.
This is a very good‐paying job.
Will you just read the customer's lines, please?
Whenever you're ready.
Yeah, that's‐‐okay. (sniffs)
(clears throat)
Mr. and Mrs. Galveston! So good to see you again!
‐Thank you. ‐How is your lovely daughter?
What?
Your son, is he in college yet?
See, I‐‐that's not in my script.
Yeah, it says to throw things in.
‐Make it your own. ‐Oh, okay.
‐MAN: Come on. ‐All right. Okay.
We have an exceptional wine list this evening.
Can I pour you a fat glass?
That sounds great. I would love to hear abou‐‐
Hang on. Hang on.
Ms. Galveston, may I ask you a personal question?
All right.
Have you had any work done?
'Cause you look absolutely radiant for your age.
Tony! Has she had work done?
'Cause she looks absolutely radiant for her age.
Okay, see now I think if I were you,
I would definitely steer clear of saying anything
even remotely close to that.
What? Why?
‐It's‐‐it's strange. ‐MAN: Why?
Why is it strange? What are you talking about?
You're saying have you had any plastic surgery done.
I was imagining she looked old.
I don't think it's a good idea.
Okay, okay. You know what?
Forget it.
All right. Let's just do it again.
Mr. and Mrs. Galveston! So good to see you again!
Thank you for coming back to Jamello's!
Mrs. Galveston, may I just say,
you take my breath away.
How did you get to be so beautiful?
‐I'm sorry, see‐‐ ‐What?
Again, I just think it'd be a tremendous mistake
to say anything about Mrs. Galveston's looks
in any way, shape, or form.
What are you talking about?
I'd feel very uncomfortable if a waiter spoke to me that way.
You would feel uncomfortable if I spoke to you like that?
Because I'm a hideous troll? You asshole.
No, it has nothing to do with that.
What if Brad Pitt came up to you and said,
"Hi, Mrs. Galveston. You are one foxy‐ass old lady."
‐MAN: Then what would you say? ‐It's not gonna be Brad Pitt.
And I want you to get this job.
You fucking liar. What would you say?
I'm just trying to help you. These are just‐‐
MAN: Can I just hear your answer?
Can I hear what you would say to Brad Pitt if he said,
"Mrs. Galveston, you're very attractive?"
You know, it's just beside the point.
I want you to get this job, not Brad Pitt,
and I wanna make sure you don't‐‐
It's beside the point, she says.
‐It's beside the point. ‐You know what?
No, I think it's very‐‐ I think it's‐‐
You are a fat and ugly troll, guy.
Fantastic that you're setting your sights on this job
‐and that you're‐‐ ‐Oh, God, shut up.
Just let me fucking do this.
(exhales) All right.
Fucking gotta get my energy up now.
Mr. and Mrs. Galveston! So good to see you again!
Oh, my God, for the life of me,
I can't tell which one of you is better looking,
the mister or the missus.
You both very neutrally complement one another.
Would you like your usual table?
Good.
(electronic music)
All right.
Looks like a pretty day.
Gonna get some sunshine, huh, Mr. Yuchida?
Okay.
Here we go.
Ooh.
All right. How we feelin'?
Yeah?
Ooh, your lips looks a little dry.
Um...
All right.
‐Here we go. ‐All righty.
Here we go.
Yeah.
(grunts)
Feel better?
Good.
‐Hey. ‐Hey. How are you?
Good. How are you?
Good to see you, Courtney.
Good to see you too, Ian.
How you doing?
I'm all right. A little tired.
'Cause the coffee machine's busted.
Oh, I got a new Keurig in here.
‐Oh, yeah? ‐Yeah. You wanna try it out?
Oh. Uh, sure.
Cool. It's got tons of flavors.
‐So... (laughs) ‐Okay. Um...
Mr. Yuchida, are you good for a second?
‐Hey. ‐You good?
I'm watchin' you, buddy. (chuckles)
All right.
Hoo.
You got oat milk again?
(pensive music)
♪♪ ♪♪
(caretakers chuckling)
Oh, I am so sorry.
‐It's okay. It's... ‐Spilled coffee.
It's totally okay.
I got, like, ten of these things.
Ah. Sorry again.
No worries.
‐All right, buddy. ‐Okay.
Here we go.
Ooh.
(both caretakers chuckle)
Hey, sorry again about the coffee.
Been a little out of it.
Puttin' this guy down today.
Oh, bummer.
Yeah.
This guy's getting a rectal exam.
Aren't you, bud? (grunts)
Ooh‐ah.
There we go.
♪♪ ♪♪
So when Royce Delorax has his students hit pianos,
he could be operating within the western tradition
‐of experimental music. ‐Oh, please.
He's telling these bougie parents
that he's gonna make their kids cultured
and then they just sit around slapping pianos.
I bet he doesn't even know how to play piano, man.
‐He's goofing off. ‐Wait, wait, wait.
David, goofing off, or maybe getting off.
(groans) What?
David, it's time we talked to our mystery pianist.
‐(chuckles) ‐No, don't.
‐I know. ‐But dude,
you know what pianist sounds like, right?
Yes, I know what it sounds like.
It sounds like... ♪♪ Penis ♪♪
Yes, you don't need to tell me.
‐The best word to say. ‐I'm a‐‐I'm a grown man.
Okay, you're right.
It is time that we talked to our mysterious penis.
Yeah, good. Let's go.
‐Our mysterious penis. ‐Yeah, I heard it.
I heard it.
Penis mysteries from the planet Zorkon.
Excuse me. Royce Delorax?
Um, who are you?
I'm John Hunchman, Hunchman Investigations.
This is my associate,
‐Mr. Purefoy. ‐What's up?
Hmm, sorry. I don't talk to cops.
Well, we're not the police.
I mean C. O. P. S. Creepy old pieces of shit.
‐Whoa. ‐It's an acronym.
I have a facility for wordplay as well as music.
Hmm, IRW. I respect wordplay.
Hmm, well, if you'll excuse me, I have a lesson.
‐You're in my way. ‐No, I'm not.
(groans) Yes, you are.
‐No, I'm not. ‐Move, asshole.
‐I shan't, asshole! ‐Stop it, both of you!
Mr. Delorax, W. A. Y. T. Y. S. T. D. P.?
‐Whoa, what are you‐‐ ‐Oh, did you miss that one?
Why are you teaching your students to defile pianos?
‐Oh, wordplay boom! ‐Defile?
Spoken like a true philistine.
‐Picture it, David. ‐Okay.
A young woman sits down at an immaculate piano
and slams her fists into the keys,
slaps it,
then dumps a bunch of junk into it like John Cage.
Treats a Steinway concert grand
like a common filthy garbage can.
Mmm.
You're crazy, the both of you!
Now, leave me alone!
That was weird.
David, what are you doing on Wednesday night?
I'm watching the game 'cause we're playing Gonzaga.
Wrong. We're going to a cage match.
‐JOHN: A John Cage match! ‐DAVID: Holy shit!
She's a beauty, ain't she?
‐How much? ‐Just 60 bucks.
‐Real hickory handle. ‐60 bucks?
‐Goddamn! ‐Whatever.
I have my mom's card.
Oh, sorry. I meant 75.
Say, didn't you buy a hammer from me a couple months ago?
Yeah, my mom told me to get a new one
for the piano recital.
‐Are you building a piano? ‐Smashing it.
Oh, this is a great hammer for smashing.
A steal at $90, which is the actual price.
Please disregard all previous prices.
You know, you seem pretty chill about letting Mr. Sutton
overcharge you for that hammer.
You know why my mom wanted me to get a new hammer?
‐Mm? ‐No.
Because she was at the tennis club
and Mrs. Colefax was bragging about how she bought Laurie
a new hammer for the recital.
Huh, a classic case of hammer envy.
Oof.
My mom is worried Laurie Colefax
will have a nicer hammer than me,
and then people with think the Colefax's realty business
is doing better than my dad's, and then he'll lose clients,
and we won't get invited to the mayor's pig‐pick,
and everyone in town will hate us.
So we gotta go back in time and kill Mrs. Colefax.
No, David, there is no time travel.
Yeah, there is. I saw one.
All I wanted was to learn how to play 21 Pilots!
Is that so bad?
‐Yes. ‐We get your point.
I gotta get home so my mom can post a picture
of this dumb hammer on her Facebook.
Right, we'll see you at the recital.
Oh, you know tickets are $20, right?
Whoa, there's a cover charge for this thing?
For everyone. We have to pay, too.
You have to pay to play in your own recital?
Where does all the money go?
Royce says it goes into an artistic integrity fund,
whatever that is.
‐Hmm. ‐Okay.
Well, see you.
Parents are really judging each other over whose kid
has the most glamorous hammer.
This is a new world, bro.
When we were young, parents just judged each other
by how well their kids played piano.
Exactly.
Can you play the notes on this piece of paper or not?
And if you can't, you are a fraud.
Exactly. David, that's it.
It is?
♪♪ I'm too good ♪♪
♪♪ I'm just great ♪♪
♪♪ ♪♪
(chiming and whirring)
‐MAN: Mitra. ‐MITRA: Hey.
MAN: Thanks for coming in.
Uh, we always love you.
Thank you.
MAN: So do your thing but keep it grounded, okay?
‐Okay. ‐MAN: Here we go.
I'm Mitra Jouhari and I'm reading for Firewall.
MAN: All right, everybody. Listen up.
Here's the plan. Me and Santos are team one.
We'll enter the casino at 7:00 p. m.
Head to the freight elevator and distract the guards.
Fingers, you're gonna slip ID cards to Turk and Piston
who will drive them as fast as they can to the safe house
and hand them off to the Bus brothers.
Once you're done, hand them off to Johnny Hands‐‐
make it quick‐‐who will head back to the casino
and upload our Trojan horse file,
giving us access to their security system.
After that, it's up to Lau Chen.
Provided everything's gone to plan,
Lau will make his way through the water pipes
and out of the toilet in sub‐basement D.
He'll come directly next to the master ball.
Ju‐scroll, make sure you turn his eye glasses
so Smash can talk Lau Chen through breaching the lock.
After that, Lau will open the elevator from his end
and me and Cables repel down to help you extract the gold.
We'll rendezvous at the rear casino entrance
at 7:15 where Wheels will scoop us in the hover craft
to take us to Trills who will take us the rest of the way
to the suite in the subterranean tunnel tank.
Firewall, you hack their cameras
and shut down the aquatic alarms.
‐MAN: Got it? ‐Got it.
MAN: Oh, and before I forget, everybody,
pack your bathing suits.
Wow, okay. Great job!
(laughs) Yeah, so cool.
MAN: That was a great choice, Mitra.
Thank you.
MAN: Um, let's try one more take.
Play it a little more real.
Remember, she's doing this for her family.
Yes, okay. Uh, yes, okay.
‐Yes, thank you. ‐MAN: Got it?
‐Thank you, yes. ‐MAN: Action.
All right, everybody, listen up.
Here's the plan.
Me and Santos are team one. We'll enter the casi‐‐
(whirring and beeping)
♪♪ ♪♪
Yet another boring day at karate practice.
I'll transform into a karate Snuppy.
FIGHTER: Whoa, what the fuck?
Ah, that's more like it.
Damn, you just turned into a huge fucking dog.
Wow.
Now things are getting interesting.
You can certainly say that again.
Bye‐bye, now. I'm leaving.
Not so fast. Turn back around.
‐What? ‐Deal with karate Snuppy.
‐Fight me. ‐Fight you?
‐No, thank you. ‐Fight me as hard as you can.
No!
You and I, we're on the same side now.
No fighting.
Yo, did you hear about that weird new karate team?
You mean the karate Snuppy and the normal man?
Of course I did.
They're burning up the temple.
Good afternoon, loser.
Did you know I'm part of the hottest new karate team?
You think you're so cool just because you know
a karate Snuppy.
(cackles) Your jealousy invigorates me.
Oh, man.
I almost forgot to tell you
that your doctor called on the phone.
Wait, my doctor called? What did he say?
Let me see if I can remember.
He said you have stage five clout‐chasing condition...
What?
With a side order of extreme thirstiness.
‐Excuse me? ‐That mean anything to you,
you little shit?
‐Excuse me? ‐Oh, man.
You were laughing at me but now I'm laughing at you.
Hey, karate Snuppy!
‐This guy's making fun of me. ‐(fighter giggling)
‐Help me fight him. ‐Too bad.
My niece is graduating from high school
and I'm already late.
♪♪ ♪♪
(piano notes clanging)
♪♪ ♪♪
(applause)
Jasmine, ladies and gentlemen.
Wasn't she exquisite?
Next up, Jenna.
Go on, Jenna! Show them your hammer!
This is ridiculous.
I don't want to.
Jenna, damn it, I paid for those lessons!
‐JOHN: Jenna, don't do it! ‐(all gasping)
I'm sorry we're late.
He wanted to watch the game, and I don't drive.
Oh, um, well, well, well.
If it isn't Inspector Fudge It and Magnum B. O.
(sniffing)
You're interrupting our recital.
WOMAN: Yeah!
FATHER: Now, did they buy a ticket?
Oh, I apologize.
Why don't you play, Mr. Delorax?
Oh, tonight isn't about me.
It's about my students.
Oh, but these good people paid $20 a ticket.
I'm sure they'd love to hear the maestro.
‐WOMAN: Yeah! ‐MAN: That sounds important.
Oh, fine.
Um, this, uh, is, uh, "Study in J‐Minor Fifth"
by Johan Megonzaga.
(piano notes clunking)
(applause)
LEE: What about your fundamentals?
FATHER: Now, did she buy a ticket?
Young man, can you play a scale?
Oh, shit!
Um, erm, well, I will do something better.
(strokes piano keys)
That happened to be all the scales.
‐(all oohing) ‐(applause)
MAN: I'm convinced.
LEE: How about this? Can you play this?
Um, of course I cou‐‐ oh, finger cramp!
‐Call 911! ‐Ladies and gentlemen,
this man doesn't know how to play the piano.
What? Now I don't know what to believe!
And so we are left with two possibilities.
Either he's sexually aroused by young women
‐defiling pianos‐‐ ‐(all groaning)
WOMAN: Yikes.
A fetish he films and distributes online,
which I can't confirm yet because the Wi‐Fi
on my house boat is spotty.
That's too dark. What's the other possibility?
Or he's exploiting your ignorance to make money
by pretending to teach your kids avant‐garde music
and trusting you're too dumb to figure it out.
‐MAN: Wow. ‐Whoa.
So you're either a creep or a scam artist?
MAN: If you're both, I hope you run for president.
These men are lying!
They're TFOS! Totally full of shit!
Ah, yes.
Your facility for word play? (chuckles)
Royce Delorax, now that's a weird name.
Did you know it's also an anagram for Corey Axelrod?
And Corey Axelrod has outstanding warrants.
Wire fraud,
and for ejaculating into a baby grand
in a San Diego piano showroom.
‐MAN: Nasty. ‐Homeboy jizzed on a Steinway.
Oh, I guess my name wordplay was TCBH.
Too clever by half, yes.
Wordplay usually is.
Now we call 911.
(cheers and applause)
‐(indistinct radio chatter) ‐(crashing)
Thanks, guys.
Now maybe my parents will pay for real piano lessons.
‐Arch your fingers, David. ‐My fingers are arched.
Ah, Miss Lee, why don't you teach Jenna?
(gasps) Please?
Mm‐mmm. I'm retired.
‐Plus she's a total fascist. ‐Shut your fucking mouth!
‐Oh, ow! ‐(piano keys clunk)
I owe you a dollar.
In this episode you saw footage of a prepared piano
modified under professional supervision.
That's right, David.
Kids, do not attempt to modify your own piano.
You could damage it.
Remember, if you damage a piano,
Billy Joel will kill you with a dart dipped in divorce.
It's happened.
♪♪ ♪♪
♪♪ Ivy League ♪♪
♪♪ Surprise me again ♪♪
♪♪ I never speak ♪♪
♪♪ My throat feels weird ♪♪
♪♪ ♪♪
♪♪ You might get sick if you kiss me ♪♪
♪♪ But do you care? ♪♪
♪♪ If you die alone ♪♪
♪♪ I'll put flowers on your grave ♪♪
♪♪ ♪♪
♪♪ And love ain't fair ♪♪
♪♪ But nothing's fair, at least for me ♪♪
♪♪ ♪♪
♪♪ And love ain't fair ♪♪
♪♪ ♪♪
♪♪ But nothing's fair, at least for me ♪♪
‐(clear music) ‐CHORUS: ♪♪ Yes ♪♪