Community (2009–2015): Season 3, Episode 16 - Virtual Systems Analysis - full transcript

The study group takes a three hour lunch. Annie suggests Abed shows her how the Dreamatorium works so Troy and Britta can be together. But their 'Inspector Spacetime' simulation soon turns into a hospital bound drama in which Abed takes on the personalities of the other group members.

We are so screwed.

How are we gonna
memorize all this?

Let's just go over it again.

Kingdom, phylum, class...

Order, family, genus, species.

I use a mnemonic device.

"Kevin, please come
over for gay sex."

Why wouldn't you use "Karen"?

'Cause it's gay sex, dummy.

So use "great".

Now I can't remember anything.

God, why do we always wind up
in this position?

For all the time you spend here,
you'd think we wouldn't

have to cram so much.

Maybe we never get any work
done because we have

so much fun hanging out

Definitely, maybe that's why.

Ah, the duali-Dean of man.

I'm dressed this way because I
have good news and bad news.

You have got to be kidding me.

The bad news is Professor Kane
has the flu.

The good news is biology class
is canceled...

After you.

What a gentleman.

Guys, we don't have to cram
last minute anymore.

Last minute got
moved to tomorrow.

Three-hour lunch? Three-hour
lunch? Three-hour lunch?

Three hours?

I could watch the first half of
three movies.

Ooh, I don't have to go
to the fast food

restaurant across the street.

I can go to the fancy one
across town.

Their manager wears a tie.

If we don't eat, we can

an whole episode's worth of
Inspector Spacetime

- in the Dreamatorium.
- Word.


Maybe we should go
to Señor Kevin's.

Britta, didn't you want to try
that new cage-free bean burrito?

The tortillas are made with
micro-financed flour.

Troy, you could drive.

I can't go to Señor Kevin's.
The manager and I are enemies.

He said Die Hard was bad.

- He said Die Hard was bad.
- I know, buddy.

Well, how about this.

This lunch is already a runaway
train, no point in stopping it.

Troy, Britta, you go
to Señor Kevin's.

Abed promised he'd show me how
the Dreamatorium works.

- Today's the perfect day for it.
- But I want to...

Abed, don't you think today's

- the perfect day for it?
- No.

- Abed.
- Is this a social cue?

I left my Puttin' On the Ritz
cane in here earlier.

I know it probably
has another name,

but, um, can I be perfectly
honest with you guys?

I think I went too
far with this one.

I have to go to the bank today.

What am I supposed to tell
people in line?

"I had good news and bad news"?

Come on, Craig.

Get you life together.

♪ Give me some more,
time in a dream ♪

♪ Give me the hope
to run out of steam ♪

♪ Somebody said
we could be here ♪

♪ We could be roped up,
tied up, dead in a year ♪

♪ I can't count the reasons
I should stay ♪

♪ One by one they all
just fade away ♪

I am Inspector Spacetime.

And I know that
which is unknown.

Duty-bound to protect a universe
of innocent unremarkables,

I patrol it
in the x7 Dimensionizer

with my loyal constable,

This week, however, Reggie has
been forced to go to lunch.

So I'm aboard the much crappier
H.M.S. Spacetime 12,

from the worst season ever, with
temporary constable, Geneva.

Geneva, I need the quantum
spanner, the big one.

Oi, gov'ner, quantum spammer,
up an' at 'em, in'it?

If we can't get out
of orbital lock,

the Blorgons may intercept.

Tut tut, m'lord.

Wouldn't give a tuppence for
that sticky wicket.

Okay, stop simulation.

More British?

I can't do this anymore.

But the Blo-gons might

It's Blorgons with an "r".

Blo-gon means "thank you"
in blorgon.

Can't we play something
I know about

like hospital administration?

You're mad at me for playing
matchmaker with Troy and Britta.

You think you're
gonna lose Troy.

I'm not petty, Annie.

I'm mad at you because you

with the fabric of the group.

How do you know
Troy and Britta pairing up

wouldn't destroy everything?

I run the scenarios.

I examine this stuff
from every conceivable angle.

Oh, and you can do
that but I can't?

You don't have a patent on being
a control freak, Abed.

I kind of do.

You think this is just a room
where Troy and I play dinosaurs

versus river boat gamblers

Sure, it's how I got
the construction approved,

but, much like myself,

the Dreamatorium
has higher functions.

Would you like me to show you
how your stunt

with Troy and Britta
will play itself out?

Why not?

Execute simulation Troy/Britta.

Render environment
Señor Kevin's.

Oh, those appetizers

were dope and legit!

I don't usually support lunch

because it's unfair
to breakfast.

I never thought about

meals fighting each other.

I guess that explains
why you never

see any two of them on
the same table.

So I guess Annie's pretty hot
to get us together.

She probably just doesn't
understand people.

Well, the sooner
the food comes,

the sooner this will be over.

I'm afraid your food won't be
ready for another half hour.

I'm too busy misunderstanding
the whole point of Die Hard.

I can't wait to
get home to Abed.

So you can dart back and forth

doing impressions
of your friends.

There's no science at work here.

You're right.

The science is at work in here.

This is
the Dreamatorium's engine.

My thoughts are collected
by this box

and everything I know about my
friends is stored here.

Both are distilled
by logic and then

recombined into objective

I'm able to simulate
any of the study group

and even a half-accurate Chang
in over 7,000 unique situations.

Abed, it's cardboard tubes
and a funnel.

Well you see it that way
because it's calibrated

to a specific level
of brain function.

Right. I'm stupid.

Not stupid, just less able to
see what I see.

Gee, you've got it
all figured out.

King of toilet paper rolls
over here.

Hey, Troy, I'm glad you called.

Your lunch is going well, right?

Yeah, just checking on Abed.

Making sure he's okay.

What? He's fine.

He just implied I operate
on a lower level

of brain function,
so business as usual.

Great, um, just, you know,
make sure he stays comfortable.

I worry about him
when I'm not around.

Well, he's fine,
he always will be.

People bend over backwards to
cater to him.

He's just extra sensitive in
the Dreamatorium.

It takes a lot out of
him to run that thing.

I don't want you to
break his brain.

Bye, Troy.

- How is he?
- He'll be okay.

It's so sweet how much you
care about him.

And another thing
I hate about Die Hard,

two FBI agents named Johnson.

I've been thinking about our
Inspector Spacetime scenario.

It might work better if instead
of playing Geneva,

you played Rosamund.

She was a constable
in season five

and she only had three lines.

I have a better idea.

You know what would make your
scenarios a lot more realistic?

If Troy weren't on a date.

Why don't you take
all your thoughts

and your logic and add one step
to the process.

- What are you doing?
- From now on,

before you do or say anything,

you're gonna think about how it
affects the people around you.

We lower functioning brains call
this "empathy".



Oh, my God, I broke Abed.


You know how you wanted me to
tell you

when you were being scary weird
instead of cute weird?

This is scary weird.

Hello, Annie.

What was I doing on the floor?

Were we... doing it?

Are you being Jeff?

Well, I'm not
being a Kardashian.

So where are we now?

We're in the doctor's lounge
of Greendale Hospital School.

Hospital school?

It's a sexy emotional school

where doctors save
lives and make love,

often simultaneously.

Our stories,
ripped from the headlines.

Our passions, unbridled.

Our cafeteria, eh...

Make love to me, Ann.

I know I'm just a surgeon

and you're a hotshot
upstart administrator,

but damn the rules,
damn the system,

damn our two foot height
disparity, I want you.

Okay, Abed, I get it, we have
different sensibilities.



I'm leaving.

Okay, Dr. Jeff,

can you please tell me
where I can find Abed?

I owe him an apology.

Abed? Never heard of him.


I asked you a question, doctor.

I'm a surgeon!

And I'm your administrator!

I left my wife for you
and she was pregnant!

Who do you think
inseminated her?

Now tell me what I want to know
or God as my witness,

I'll have your stethoscope.


Dr. Perry might know.

Render environment bio lab.

Look, there's Britta and Troy
fooling around with each other.

Look, there's Abed having
overcome his issues.

Nice try.

Dr. Barnes, Dr. Perry.

We just saved an uninsured
homeless man's life.

Using an unapproved procedure.

Now, we're going to kiss.

This is what you think I want?

What do you want,

I want to talk to Abed.

There's no one here
by that name.

- You're lying.
- Maybe I am, so what?

I was raised on
the mean streets of Harlem.

I'm not scared of you.

Well, be scared of this.

Sodium pentothal, known commonly
as truth serum.

I saw Abed's name
in the hospital school files,

I love butt stuff,
I hate spiders,

I stole a pen from the bank,

I cried during About a Boy...
The soundtrack...

I don't wash my hands
before surgery.

I can see why women find
Clive Owen attractive to the point

where I might just as well be
attracted to him.

I use comparisons to Hitler to
win arguments on the Internet

at the drop of a hat.

I know nothing about wine.

I'm more turned on by women
in pajamas than lingerie.

I just want to know
they feel comfortable.

I didn't get Inception.

I didn't get Inception.

You said you saw
his name in the files.

There's so many layers.

Right, render environment
medical study room.

There's head nurse, Shirley,

talking to tragic,
heart-wrenching Alzheimer's

patient and Emmy-contender,
Pierce Hawthorne.

Mr. Hawthorne,
you're out of your bed again.

'Cause I think I'm on a train.

Oh! Oh!

Shirley, get me
the file on Abed.

Abed doesn't exist, young lady.

He exists if I say so.

This is my hospital school.

Your hospital school,
young lady, is a simulation

being run through a filter of
other people's needs.

Abed's been filtered out
because nobody needs him.

I need him.

Well you're not simulated.

No, but this is!


And there's more where that
didn't come from.

This is a private compartment.

- Jeff, get the files.
- Why me?

Because you can see
the cabinets.

And I'll make love to you.


There is an Abed in this
hospital school,

but he's not a doctor.

He's a patient.

- Notify security!
- Conductor!

Jeff, take me to Abed.

Where is that?

Enough games, just take me
where I wanna go.

Follow me.

Are we close?

Almost there, although you
should probably run in place

and let the hall
move around you.

- Here we are.
- Where?

Where you wanted to go.

The last night of school,
first year.

The night we kissed.

Ababed wasn't there,
so whose memory is this?

Maybe it's yours.

Maybe the Dreamatorium
really works.

Or maybe Leonard was watching
from the bushes

and told Abed about it.

I don't have cable.

Knock it off, Abed.

I'm not Abed.

You're confused, so was I.

But not anymore.

Abed, stop!

I don't wanna do this.

I want to talk to Abed.

I'm taking the file.

Oh, it says Abed
is in the recovery parlor.

Condition... never better.

You're not holding anything.

This is the file.

Abed Nadir,
psychiatric patient 1373,

control freak with no empathy.

People bend over backwards
to cater to him.

Signed, healthcare administrator
Annie Edison.

That's out of context.


You've thought
of everything, Annie.

With Abed gone
and Troy and Britta together,

there's nothing standing
in the way of us.

Wait, what?

Come on.

This is you dream.

This is why you
played matchmaker.

This is what's important to you.

You are not Jeff.

Because Jeff cares about Abed.

And I did not push
Troy and Britta together

so this would happen.

I did it because I thought
they were cute together

and this would
have been a bonus.

And we are not here.

And I'm not staying here because
I hate whoever you are.

You should probably
storm off in...


In place.

Where do you wanna go next?

I wanna be alone.

Sounds good to me.

Execute simulation,


Now we're alone.

Great, so you're me now.

Why are you blowing
our magic moment with Jeff?

It's not magic.

It's not even real.

But we love Jeff.

No, we don't.

We're just in love
with the idea of being loved.

And if we can teach a guy
like Jeff to do it,

we'll never be unloved.

So we keep running the same
scenario over and over

hoping for a different result.

Running scenarios.

Careful now.

You're starting
to sound like Abed.

So... I probably shouldn't say
things like "Star Wars.

Zardoz, Cougar Town,
cool, cool, cool."

- Stop it.
- Pop culture, pop culture.

- I'm on a TV show.
- You're gonna get in trouble.

Meta, meta.

It's Abed!

I got an Abed here!

Get him!

That's it.

I find you guilty of being Abed.

You're under arrest!

Can I just interject and say

I don't know what
the hell's going on?

This time you'll never get out.




I found you by turning into you,
how cool is that?

Cool, cool, cool.

Tell me where we are
so I can pretend to see it.

We're inside a locker.

It's where I spent a lot of time
in junior high.

You think this is
where we'd put you?

- You know that's absurd, right?
- Well, I'm not stupid.

You can see I've increased
the square footage.

It's a metaphorical locker.

It's a place where
people like me get put

when everyone's finally
fed up with us.

Abed, so maudlin.

If you start turning
into a vampire...

I've run the simulations,

I don't get married,
I don't invent

a billion dollar website
that helps people have sex.

I don't make in into Sundance,
Slamdance or Dance Pants.

Troy invents Dance Pants
in 2019.

Don't tell him, he needs to
stumble onto it.

All right, listen.

The scenarios you run in here

are like...
great science fiction.

They're impressive and detailed
and insightful,

but they're not
accurate for crap.

Science fiction never has been.

Look at 2001.

Did we have a space odyssey?

No, we got snowboarding
in the Olympics

and we over-validated
Carson Daily.

- That poor guy.
- Yeah, cry me a river.

My point is, your simulations

are nothing more
than anxieties.

You're afraid you don't fit in.

You're afraid you'll be alone.

Great news... you share
that with all of us,

so you'll never be alone
and you'll always fit in.

And, yes, that's why I meddled
with Troy and Britta.

You caught me.

I was trying to make life go

according to some script.

I can't.

You can't.

We both need to get more
comfortable winging it.

At least it'll be less work.

It would cut down my
Dreamatorium time

by 18 hours a week.

I could take up yoga.

You've got the body type.

Now let's get you out of here.

I don't know how.

These fake shackles
don't have a fake key.

Isn't that what a...
quantum spanner's for?

Technically, no.

But that's fine.

So should we get back to lunch?

I guess so.

A little more anticlimactic

than I would have simulated it,

- but whatever.
- Anticlimactic?

Render environment

H.M.S. Spacetime 12.

Inspector, set the tachyon drive
to hyperjump.

We must get to the other side of
this star field

before the Blorgons intercept.

Blorgons in this sector?

Well, this mission has gone
pear-shaped, indeed.

Prepare to hyperjump
on my mark.

Bugger the dovecoats,

We're too late! Blorgons!

Eradicate! Eradicate!

Our quantum blasters are
useless against their armor.

We're as cooked as Lord Nelson's
mutton, we are.

Not if I can help it.

I'll see you on the other side
inspector... Wherever that is.

Don't you mean
"whenever that is"?

Take that, Blorgon scum!

You'll blo-gon me
for this later.

Ow, Annie!

Oh, oh, my God!

Abed, I'm so sorry.

No, no, you're committing.

This is good stuff.


I am Abed Nadir...

And I don't know a lot of things
everyone else knows.

I wander the universe
with my friend, Troy,

doing whatever I want.

Sometimes accidentally hurting
innocent unremarkables.

This week, however, Troy went
to lunch and I adapted.

I now have the ability
to enter the minds of others.

- I'm hungry, are you hungry?
- Yeah.

I'll make us buttered noodles.

Using an elusive new
technique known as "empathy".

So was the other fast food
place worth the drive, Shirley?

You know, half way there I
thought, "What am I doing?

It's the same fast food place
in a different location.

Have the margins of my life
become so narrow?"

So I went to the mall
and had pizza.

Sounds like this has been a
game-changing day for all of us.

I almost sat on my balls,

but at the last second,
I made an adjustment.

- Good job!
- Good work.

Good job, man.

Well, we had a good lunch, too.


I spoke to the manager
about Die Hard,

and I told him he should be
ashamed of himself.


Sorry I bailed
on the Dreamatorium.

It's okay, Annie did pretty
good in a pinch.

All right, back to cramming?

The people at the bank loved
my outfit.

And they had all kinds of
questions about it

and my answers seemed to amuse

and... and even liberate
them a little.

A few of us went to lunch

and I had the deepest
conversation of my life.

I gotta go,
I'm telling everybody.

Hmm, maybe after
a long, dark night,

the sun is starting
to rise on Greendale.

Maybe. Maybe not.

You never can tell what kind
of day you're gonna have.

Okay, I didn't really avoid
sitting on them.

I sat right on them.

- Oh.
- Aw.

- I'm sorry.
- Pierce, I'm sorry.

Hurt like hell.

I saw eagles.

♪ Troy and Abed
in the morning ♪

Today we're joined
by Annie Edison...

- Hi!
- Who's gonna show us how

to spruce up your
apartment on a budget.

So, Annie, what
inspired this throw?

Well, I just thought
that I'd cover up the stain

where Abed spilled code red
on the couch last week.

Oops. Crafty.

And you have some tips
on entertaining.

Yes, if you're
expecting company,

but you don't have enough
chairs, you can bring out

pillows from your bedroom and
use them on the floor

for a Moroccan feel.

- Ooh, a taste of the Orient.
- Ooh!

Actually, boys, I have
a little surprise for you.

- Uh-oh.
- While you two were out

playing blazer tag...

That's laser tag
with sport coats.

I did a little extreme
bedroom makeover!

I unbunked your beds and got
scrap fabric and...

It's okay, buddy.

We can put it back.

We can put it back
the way it was.

- I'm so sorry.
- It's okay.

It's... cut, Garrett.