Dilbert (1999–2000): Season 2, Episode 2 - The Shroud of Wally - full transcript

After having a near-death experience, Dilbert has trouble getting his benefits reinstated. He also begins to question the meaning of life. Meanwhile, Wally is worshiped as a god by a group of marketing students.

That was even more
fascinating than last week.

Could we go someplace
else next time, Mom?

Anyplace? Please?

There's so much more to see.

We practically ran
through the exhibit

of giraffe-necked babies.

Those babies are so fake.

Oh, they're real.

That's not the sort of
thing they'd lie about.

That's exactly the sort
of thing they'd lie about.

Back me up on this, Dogbert.



Oh, they're real.

How did you get so distrustful?

Well, I'm just guessing,
but maybe it was because

you lied to me
about the Tooth Fairy,

then you lied to me
about the Easter Bunny,

then you lied to me
about Santa Claus,

then you lied to me about
the stork bringing babies.

He knows about the stork?

My fault. I let him watch
the nature channel.

He put two and two together.

Now I don't believe

anything I'm told
unless there's proof.

This paperweight
is an exact replica

of the largest fibroid tumor



ever removed from
a human uterus.

That's ridiculous.

How do they know
it's the biggest one?

There's an annual
festival in Monterey.

Get the Turbo Supreme.

The commercial says it whitens
your teeth while you drive.

That's ridiculous,

but I'm going to get
the Turbo Supreme

just to prove you wrong.

You have to believe
in some things

without proof, Dilbert.

Otherwise, life will
appear meaningless.

Maybe life is meaningless.

Did you ever think of that?

That one is getting
whiter already.

Dogbert, could you go inside

and take care of our bill?

Do you ever feel bloated
after eating a big meal?

Yes, I do.

How'd you know that?

I'm a surgeon.

Your problem is caused
by a huge fibroid tumor

in your uterus.

I can remove it if you
have a health plan.

I don't have a health plan.

Can I pay you with gas?

All right.

I'll need a plastic
fork, a jar of salsa,

and one thing I left in the car.

I'll always remember the day

that little surgeon
saved my life.

I'm telling you, it's dangerous

to smoke cigarettes
while you pump gas.

My daddy always
pumped gas this way

and he's still alive...

or at least it looks that way

when the wind catches
his rocking chair just right.

You can open your eyes now.

That didn't even hurt.

I'll have to send
this to the lab.

Bad news. You're
out of Turbo Supreme.

Oh, my God!

Dilbert, can you hear me?

Can you do something
for him, little surgeon?

No, I used the last
of the plastic forks

when I operated on you.

Whatever happens is
on your conscience now.

Wake up! Dilbert, wake up!

Can you hear me?

I must be dead.

This is the tunnel I
keep reading about.

Behind this door are the
answers to the ultimate questions.

The afterlife.

Frankly, I was hoping for more.

He's dead.

Dilbert is dead!

Are you sure?

Yes.

Hey!

I don't know what
kind of manners

they have in the
afterlife, funny boy,

but on earth, you
watch your hands.

Am I alive?

Actually, you're down a quart.

You're a miracle
worker, little surgeon.

You got that right.

Dear, now that
you're alive again,

I need to ask you one
very important question.

Yes, Mom?

Are my teeth any whiter?

And then I traveled
back down the tunnel

and woke up at the gas station.

Are you telling me the
afterlife is a stinking cubicle?

I'm just telling you what I saw.

How fast was the
internet connection?!

I don't know if it had
an internet connection.

Well, this raises many
troubling questions

about the afterlife.

First, how do you get
your software upgraded?

Uh, I guess it was
just the one question.

So, technically, you were dead.

I think so.

No more employee benefits
for you, my dead friend.

But I came back to life.

Rules are rules. Try to
look at the big picture.

♪ Happy birthday, Wally ♪

♪ Blah, blah, blah ♪

Everybody, eat cake and
see if your morale goes up.

Yeah, I'd love to stay,

but secretaries have
to watch the phones.

Oh, sure, I can buy the
cake and I can buy the gift,

but the world would end

if I let one phone
call go to voice mail.

Sometimes I call her my boss.

That usually gets a laugh.

Did anyone bring
the birthday kit?

Got it.

Do we get any cake?

Howard, whose birthday is it?

Yours!

Does anyone care that
I was dead yesterday?

Can you let someone else

be in the spotlight
for one second?

We can't stop a
birthday celebration

every time you die.

Uh, unwrap my
present. I'm a little busy.

I am honored.

Oh, it is a round thing

you throw through the
air for no apparent reason.

I'll take the picture...

So there's no
photographic evidence

that I ever associated
with any of you.

Wally!

Napkin.

Where have I seen this before?

Before we get back to work,

I want to remind everyone

that all employees must
be present at the launch site

when our new deep space
exploration rocket goes up...

in about five minutes.

Five minutes?

We can't get there
in five minutes.

No exceptions.

Except you, Dilbert.

I want you to visit our
director of human resources...

Mr. Catbert.

Let me out!

Please! I'll never rob another
convenience store again!

I'm scared straight!

Ow! Ow! Oh, God!

That's hot!

How would you feel about
making this an unmanned probe?

That's what it's supposed to be.

There's still time to
put a monkey in there.

I hate monkeys.

No. All we want on board

is the capsule full
of earth artifacts

in case the rocket is
discovered by an alien civilization.

A capsule, you say.

The capsule is
on board, isn't it?

Would you excuse
me for a moment?

I need someone to
volunteer for a suicide mission.

Now you'll need to run
toward the launch site

and fling this birthday kit

through the open window
of the rocket module,

then turn and be consumed
by the launch flames

while trying to get back.

Oh, nature was calling me.

Did I miss anything important?

20... 19... 18...

If I can succeed
in this assignment,

I will be remembered
and rewarded

for the rest of my career.

Yes!

Stupid bird.

Anyone know what kind that is?

And remember,

any friend who won't join
your down-line sales force

is no friend of yours.

Gullible sheep.

I could tell them
anything right now.

If you believe you can get
rich with multi-level marketing,

slap yourself in
the face real hard.

Every time.

I still can't believe it.

So you admit you were dead.

Yes, but very briefly.

That's no reason to cancel
my employee benefits.

Well, at the risk of sounding
sadistic and uncaring,

our policy is to discontinue
benefits at death.

That only applies to
people who stay dead.

I was only dead for a minute.

If I granted this exception,

everyone would claim they
were coming back to life later.

Oh, do whatever you want.

It doesn't make a difference.

We all just die and end
up in a cubicle, anyway.

Pray tell, what did
you have in mind?

Angels playing harps on a cloud?

Well, no.

Well, tell me,
Dilbert, I'm curious.

What is your vision
of the afterlife?

Well, actually, uh...

Well...

Oh, I'm sorry.

Your time is up.

Literally.

We have some nice
parting gifts for you, Dilbert.

Tell him what we have for him.

Nothing!

Do you think this was all
part of the presentation?

He was supposed to give
us the new vision statement.

Maybe it's inside.

We're supposed to interpret it.

It looks like some
sort of holy man.

Look at the halo.

It says... "To Wally" on it.

This must be a
picture of the Wally.

And that must be
his holy plastic grail.

It's the shroud of Wally.

As you know,

yesterday's rocket launch
was a complete success.

Uh, could you use
the laser pointer?

I'm not following you.

We're pretty sure
the problem was

a defect somewhere in this area.

I'll bet NASA is
sorry they hired us

to build that thing.

Have they asked for
their $5 billion back yet?

More good news on that front...

We also have the
contract to provide them

with the digital images
the rocket sends back.

How is that good news?

Well, as luck would have
it, all stars look alike...

Tiny dots of light.

One looks just like the... next.

Does NASA know
the rocket went down?

No, and thanks to Dilbert,

they never will.

Me?

Your job is

to create digital pictures

of uncharted star systems

and deliver them to
NASA every... Tuesday.

How am I going to do that?

Try sending it as an
attachment in e-mail.

It's very efficient.

Don't make them
all look the same.

That's a dead giveaway.

I am not going to
lie for this company.

It's morally indefensible.

Why? Are you afraid you'll
die and go to a cubicle?

It wasn't that funny,
but I like to laugh!

You've seen your
afterlife, Dilbert...

No penalties, no rewards.

It's time you loosened up

and started harming
other people.

That is so wrong...

although I don't know why.

Oh, and do something
about these protesters.

They call themselves
"The Wallyites."

They have some gripe
about space exploration.

"Wallyites."

I like the name.

Wally is the way.

Wally is the way.

Okay, settle down.

Who can tell me
why you're opposed

to space exploration?

It is heresy.

The Book of Wally says
nothing about going to the stars.

There's a Book of Wally?

That's it?

That's the whole Book of Wally?

It can be interpreted many ways.

It doesn't say we
should go "To the stars."

It says, "To Wally."

When we die, we will
spend eternity with Wally.

I hate to break it to you,

but your entire belief
system is based on a myth.

Do you have something better?

You'll find us very flexible.

I'm not fond of
the outfits, anyway.

You can believe in science.

That's real.

You mean like your rocket ship?

Yes!

I mean, no; that's probably
a very bad example.

People only think
the rocket exists.

Hi, Dilbert.

Hi, nuts.

Liar!

Wally!

What are you
doing in the afterlife?

Haven't you heard?

After you die, you spend
the rest of eternity with me.

Wh-whoa!

Whoa!

I know, I know, you died again.

It's getting old.

No, that looks wrong.

How about here?

That's just stupid.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters.

You live your
whole life being nice,

and you still die

and go to that little
cubicle in the sky.

They say, "Only
the good die young."

If it works the other
way too, I'm immortal.

Speaking of evil,

I could use your
special talents tomorrow.

Well, let me check my calendar.

I'll see what else I have going.

"Evil... evil... evil...

not evil."

Looks like I have an opening.

I don't mean to seem skeptical,

but these photos look like

they were made on
a personal computer

with a paint program.

This is where you come in.

Surely, you agree

that in a vast universe

with billions and
billions of stars,

it probably looks
exactly like this

from some angle.

Well... yes,

but we wanted actual
pictures from the rocket.

Isn't that a little
narrow-minded?

You know, this
could be the answer

to our funding problem.

Can you give us evidence
of life on other planets?

Are you kidding?

This picture is
teeming with life.

See this dot?

It looks exactly like the
other dot, but smudgier.

What's that prove?

I can't do it all for you.

Ned, you're good at this.

That smudginess
could only be caused

by a distortion in the
electromagnetic spectrum

typically inhabited
by ham radio signals.

That's it?

And, uh...

further studies are needed?

That'll get us funding
for the space station.

We'd like to bid on the
space station project too.

No! No!

Forget the bid.

You got the job.

Can you tell us anything

about how you plan to
build the space station?

All right, fellas,

I'd better not get into
the technical stuff.

My engineers say I tend
to shoot from the hip...

but I can tell you this...

I'm pretty sure phase
one involves building

a giant stepladder.

The rumor is that you got

this $100 billion contract

without even bidding.

My question to you, sir, is

do you think UFOs
have visited us?

No...

but they're on the way.

Have you seen this picture yet?

After I talked to the Wallyites,

the next time I died,

I saw their version
of the afterlife...

An eternity with Wally.

What I want to know is

was I really dead
or just hallucinating?

Why don't you ask
that man we saw on TV.

The one who can
talk to the spirit world?

He has an 800 number.

I don't believe in that stuff.

But you believe
we spend eternity

in a cubicle with Wally?

What's his number?

Hello.

Each call costs
$3.00 per minute.

I was expecting your call.

You were?

You want answers, don't you?

Yes, I do.

Do you know someone
who died in the last 50 years

named John or
Jim or Bill or Tom?

Yes!

I thought so.

He has a message for
you from the other side.

Which one, John or
Jim or Bill or Tom?

He says you like to do
things with your hands...

Typing or cooking or gardening.

Is that correct?

I type on the computer!

I have to admit, he's good.

He says you get great
pleasure from this...

typing or cooking or gardening.

I do, but I wanted to ask...

He says you enjoy
music and food.

Is that right?

Forget about that.

I want to know

if the afterlife is
nothing but a cubicle.

He says to be
careful with your back,

or vision, or lungs, or weight.

I feel fine.

All I want to know is...

So, what are you wearing?

I've never been a
supreme being before,

but I'm willing
to give it a try.

Your humility inspires us.

Please teach us
everything you know.

Maybe you could ask
me specific questions.

What is your favorite cheese?

Uh... you know, the
one with the holes in it.

Swiss!

Right... not that one.

Can we wear casual
clothes on Fridays?

No, it leads to promiscuity...

And no humming to
yourself when you're alone.

I hate that...

My faith is being tested.

And if you order
fish at the restaurant

and it comes with
the head still on it,

try covering it with
mashed potatoes.

I wonder if it was
something I said.

Is the answer out
there... or in here?

Is everything simply
a manifestation

of consciousness,

or is there another
actual level of existence...

A dimension parallel to

or beyond the
one we live in now?

It's all part of
the big illusion

that we perpetuate on ourselves,

and, in turn, is
perpetuated upon us

like the rocket ship,
or the shroud of Wally.

When we believe,
we engage the illusion.

When we stop believing,
we shatter the illusion

and shatter ourselves
in the process

because we are part of it.

Maybe you're right.

Maybe the mistake is
in making distinctions...

Out there, in here...

life, death.

It's all the same illusion.

Exactly.