Space Force (2020–…): Season 1, Episode 3 - Mark and Mallory Go to Washington - full transcript

Do you see it?

No.

No mention of rats, mice, rodents,

rodent blood pressure tests?

None.

Wait.

Oh, that says "House appropriations."

So close to "mouse appropriations."

This is an affront.

Is he in?

Yes. Yes, he is.



What is this regarding?

I am testifying with General Naird today

at the budget hearing in Washington,

and I would like to know
why my science budget

pales in comparison

to the riches devoted
to turning space into an orgy of death.

ID?

I left my ID at the lab.

No one gets in without ID.

Brad, will you tell this
prepubescent killing machine who I am?

Uh, Duncan, this is Dr. Adrian Mallory.

Well, I could confirm that
if he presented some ID.

I entered the building without ID.

Oh, wow.



They should not have allowed that.

The village idiot
is hiding in Naird's office!

Anything?

The project where I grow fur on plants
is gone.

Well, that one was weird.

You're weird.

Thank you. Doctor... Mallory.

You knew that.

- Sorry, uh, he's in a meeting now.
- What meeting?

Last-minute media prep with Fuck Tony.

Fuck Tony says it's the most important
single hour of the general's life.

Ugh.

General Naird, you disgust me.
You're disgusting.

Nobody's gonna say that.

This is a congressional budget hearing,
not a roast.

Yeah, well, as your head media consultant,

I wouldn't be doing my job
if I didn't prepare you for the worst.

General Naird, you steaming pile of vomit!

I hope you die!

Okay, stop.

Space Force is a bright, shiny new object

that is asking for
the least amount of money

of any of the armed forces.

We haven't started any wars.

We haven't had a My Lai yet.

They're gonna embrace us with open arms.

General Naird,
I did not say you could step down!

Stop! I'll be back at 2100 hours.
Hold down the fort.

Does all your authority on base
transfer to me while you're gone?

All my responsibility. Half my authority.

Oh. Is it okay if I still call you
in case anything...

Brad, come on, dude. You're a general.

- Come...
- Okay.

See you on the flip, mustache.

Hey, candies are for my visitors.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Do you also own a van, you fucking creep?

Yes, I do. And when my snoring
wakes my wife, I sleep in it.

Where is my
rat blood pressure research funding?

Do you hear yourself?

And why are all my pages redacted?

What, you don't think I could have
any valid thoughts about expenditures?

Perhaps, but as a scientist,
you have a loyalty to reason.

Makes you a little untrustworthy.

Scientists are weird.

It's why you're the only Muppet
that speaks nonsense.

Even Animal uses words.

Adrian, here's the deal.

We are testifying
for the House Armed Services Committee.

They are not going to give us
a billion dollars

if we tell them we're going to use it
to give rats stomachaches.

Sir, ready to go to the tarmac?

Oh, good, you didn't leave yet.

Hey, bug! What are you doing?

Ditching first period just to see me off?

No. Got suspended.
Gave a teacher the finger.

Nice!

You know, one time,
my history teacher gave me a "C,"

so I planted drugs in his desk.

And now,
he lives under a bridge like a troll.

What do you mean, you got suspended?

Yeah. My day's wide open,
so I can go to DC with you.

You know, since you're responsible
for moving us to this hellhole

and ruining my life.

I mean, the least you could do
is let me see my old friends

and shop at stores that don't, like,
exclusively sell Wrangler jeans.

- Captain Ali?
- Yes, sir?

Change of plans. I would like you
to keep an eye on my daughter today.

Yes, sir. That is something
I'm capable of doing, sir,

in addition to flying helicopters
in war zones, which is my job.

Rat hemoglobins are substantially...

Jesus, just let him fly the fucking thing!

You're talking! He's gotta fly!

- Whoops.
- What do you mean, "whoops"?

- So, what are we gonna do?
- I don't know, same thing I always do.

Go to the gym, walk the base a little,
maybe get some soft serve.

Probably hit the gym again.

Oh, I'm sorry. I bet you wish
you didn't flip off your teacher now, huh?

Oh, and I bet you wish you didn't either.
Or worked a little harder in high school.

Bitch, I got straight A's

and a math degree
from the University of Hawaii, so back up.

How big is this stupid base?

Government waste.

No wonder my high school
is just a row of portables by the highway.

What are you talking about?
The gym is right up there.

Or don't you live here?

No, I live in DC.

Ah, that's right, yes.
All right, that's the Pickering Building.

Sometimes I take my lunch over there
and watch them build rocket engines.

And that is where Dr. Banner works
with the gamma rays.

Oh, and that's where we store
the vibranium that we stole from Wakanda.

- Cool.
- Hey, what's up, Scraps?

You know those clowns?

And what's "Scraps"?

Uh, yeah, I go to school with them.

'Kay.

Is it ironic we're taking
an empty C-130

to a hearing on military waste?

Adrian, stop spitting.

What?

I feel you overthinking this hearing.

Isn't any thinking to you "overthinking"?

"A good plan, violently executed now,
is better than a perfect plan next week."

General Patton.

"A pint of sweat
will save a gallon of blood."

General Patton.

"Someone needs to lead,
and someone needs to follow,

but they are both equally
on the same team."

General Naird.

No, no, no! Not you. Joint Chiefs only.

Ah, these hearings are bullcrap.

We don't come clean about half our
defense spend, so what's the point?

Well, it's not bullcrap for Space Force.

First time
with your keister in the hot seat.

Might be your last.

Hey, guys!

- What are you doing?
- Get out!

- Out!
- No Coast Guard!

Oh, come on, man.

- Hey, Naird?
- Hmm?

If you need any help
getting back at the Chinese

for what they did to your satellite,
a little ground-and-pound...

Whatever, I don't know. Let me know.

Marines at your disposal.

I appreciate the offer, but we're good.

In fact, this little dust-up
with the Chinese made us even stronger.

I'm kinda glad it happened.

I just hope that our monkey
doesn't crack under Chinese interrogation.

What?

Never mind.
My main concern is our head scientist.

He is just a pain in the ass.

Yeah, I don't know how you do it.

Imagine lab coats
telling us how to invade Iraq.

"Oh, you can't bomb there,
that's an endangered yak."

You seem pretty calm, Naird.

Why wouldn't I be?

Pentagon's got
a record-high budget request.

And all because of you.

A new branch that's done nothing
but blow up on launchpads

and let the Chinese
slide their chopsticks up our buttholes.

That's disgusting.

Oh, it's disgusting, all right.

Disgusting that Space Force
was taken from me

and handed to a New Jersey nincompoop.

But I'm sure the committee
will come to that conclusion

after we testify.

Get your junk out of my face, please.

- Kneel.
- What?

Kneel before me and pledge loyalty
to the great General Kick Grabaston,

and I'll show mercy to you at the hearing.

Space Force isn't going anywhere.

And neither am I.

Oh, you're going somewhere, Naird.
By the end of this hearing,

I'm going to reabsorb Space Force
and its budget,

like the world's most powerful tampon.

I always thought that you were a tampon.

Tampons spend all day in vaginas.

Nothing manlier, if you ask me.

All day? Five hours, tops.

Three if you have uterine fibroids.
She knows what I'm talking about.

Acknowledge my gender again,
and I will fuck you in the ass.

Duly noted.

Duly noted.

I can't believe
this is how you spend your free time.

You know,
you don't have to just sit there.

You could maybe work out, or anything.

No, I'm very aware of my options.
Thank you.

Hey, Scraps. See any joints laying around
that we could smoke?

That was a great one, Julio.

I fucking nailed it!

Hey. You two. Get back here.

Now.

Yeah, you, uh... you said
something disrespectful to my guest,

so you're gonna take a little run.
East launchpad.

- That's very far, ma'am.
- And back.

- That's almost twice as far, ma'am.
- Yes, ma'am, right away. Running now.

So, the story behind "Scraps" is...

Oh, hey, I don't need to know.

So, I thought you'd be
Miss Popular in school.

Well, uh, "DC popular" is very different

- from "Wild Horse popular."
- Ah.

In Wild Horse, what matters
mostly relates to, uh, dirt bikes.

Yeah. Ability to chug Mountain Dew.

Okay, but did you even give anyone
at school a chance,

or did you just stroll in there
like a white Malia Obama?

They didn't give me a chance.

Okay? I even pretended to like hunting.

But they asked, "Hunting what?"

- And then I panicked and said "whales."
- You did not.

Yeah.

Dr. Mallory, is it?

General Grabaston. Hi.

Big fan.

- Thank you.
- Big fan.

So, how's it going at Space Force?

Could be better.

I bet.

Naird is a brute.

Mm.

Damn shame about the ice.

What ice?

The ice that's melting
everywhere on Earth.

Uh... yes.

Yeah, I... I care about the ice...

and the animals
that depend on that ice to live.

Ice birds.

Ice bears.

Hmm.

You know...

if the committee loses faith
in Naird today,

I would run Space Force.

And I would have you operating
with twice the funding

and none of the oversight.

I'm not sure
we should be having this conversation.

Oh, we're not having this conversation.

I'll see you at the hearing.

Prepare to have your mind blown.

Please be aliens. Please be aliens.

Okay, well, not quite.
But like our aliens,

we do keep it frozen
and in locked containers.

Meal Armstrong's?

"One small snack for a man,
one large soda for mankind."

- Wow.
- Yes!

It is the best acai in Wild Horse.

Well, I mean,
it's the only acai in Wild Horse.

But it is so, so good.

Hey. I know you.

I've seen you taking a bath.

- Mm...
- What?

Your dad has photos of you on his desk.

One when you're little and in the tub.

You're General Naird's daughter, right?

Although you look, um,
different in person.

Less happy?

No, I think you changed your hair.

Duncan Tabner.

Sweetwater, Alabama.

Erin Naird.

Abortionville, Blue State.

Whoo! There she goes.

That was a joke. She's joking, of course.

And I got it.

Uh, well, ladies.

Enjoy your "ack-eye."

It'll put that two-year-old's grin
right back on your puss.

My puss?

Southern for "face."

Well, it's Northern for "pussy."

So I wouldn't go around
saying that to people.

Erin Naird.

Ma'am.

Okay.

No. Okay, I'm not mad at that.
No, he's cute, right?

And he's about your age, so...

I'm seeing someone.
And, uh, "my age," too young for me.

Congressman Schugler.

What, no hug?

Well, that was awkward and horrible.

The man is about to grill you.
Let him bring it in for the real thing.

Remember, you gotta embrace
to get those dollars for space.

Representative Pitosi.

What are you doing?

I was just greeting you.

We don't have that kind of relationship,
General.

Yes, understood.

Well done.

Earning your pay.

Maybe just play on your phone
for the rest of the day.

He doesn't know how to hug.

Why am I in trouble
because boomers are weird around women?

Okay.

You were right.

- This acai is crazy good. Mm-hmm.
- Right?

About as healthy
as a bowl of grape ice cream, too.

Hey, baby!

You came to see Daddy at work?

And also, your father?

Hey.

- Hi.
- Give me a hug.

Okay.

- Eh...
- Oh, uh, this is... this is Angela.

Oh, are, um... are you guys doing this?

- Exactly, uh, right.
- Okay.

We have much cultural exchange.

- Yeah.
- Okay.

Yeah, sure. I'm gonna...
I'm gonna call you later.

Okay.

Okay. Bye.

Yeah. Bye.

Bye.

- Nice guy.
- Don't.

- Yeah, no, feels like a good match.
- Shut up.

I mean, he's gotta be the nicest
of all the creepy older Russian dudes

that you could be ruining your life with,
right?

And, uh, who are you dating?

The clutch on your helicopter?

What? No, girl, I'm just jealous, okay?

Look, if I could get some super
snappy-dressing foreign guy to like me

because of my proximity
to classified information,

I would totally jump at it.

Hmm. No panty lines
on the angry young congresswoman.

You know what that means.

No panties.

They actually make panties
that don't show panty lines.

Oh, you think
she's wearing those types of panties?

I believe
there's a higher degree of probability

she's wearing those type of panties
than no panties at all.

Would you two stop saying "panties"?

You can't give me an order, Naird.

Gentlemen...

they're ready for you.

Panties.

Since when did you and Kick Grabaston
start hanging out

and talking about women's underwear?

He wanted my input. I gave it to him.

That reminds me. Keep quiet in there,
unless I give you a signal.

Did we agree on a signal?
I don't think so.

How about, "Dr. Mallory will now explain

how man and his barbaric nature

will destroy space, as he has the Earth."

Too wordy.

I'll just tap on the table twice
with a pencil.

Mm.

Uh...

General Naird,

you're asking for a 150% increase

in the budget for Space Force?

Uh, and that will be used...

To defend America.

Chairwoman,

I, uh, yield the rest of my time.

This, uh, budget looks A-OK to me!

And, uh, General Naird,

thank you.

I feel safer
knowing that we have satellites

that can rain

God's holy hellfire upon our enemies

on this majestic, flat Earth of ours.

Yes, Congressman,

this Earth is certainly majestic.

And flat.

Well, jury's still out on that one.

General Naird, I'll take some of
the gentlemen from Oklahoma's time

that he yielded
to ask you one brief question.

Why do you exist?

The Yankees won the 1961 World Series

and my parents got a little carried away
with their celebration.

Okay!

Charming, but no.

I mean Space Force.

It was much cheaper
under General Grabaston and the Air Force.

Cheap generals are like cheap enchiladas.

You end up paying for it on the back end.

All due respect,
but under General Grabaston,

our supremacy in space was eclipsed
by the Russians and the Chinese.

It is my job

to keep space safe for American interests.

In order to do that, I need money.

How exactly have you been making it safe?

-That is top secret.
- Yes, I can see that.

Or should I say... I can't see that.

Well, we are making

scientific leaps that are not top secret.

Making the world
a better and cleaner place.

Great.

Tell us about that.

Mm. Mm-hmm.

-I'm all ears.
- Yeah.

Yeah.
Well, if you're at a loss for words,

I can yield to our youngest member,

who rarely is.

The committee recognizes
the congresswoman from New York,

Anabela Ysidro-Campos.

Yes.

- General Naird.
- Hello.

Your entire attitude seems to be,

"Give us money
and don't look while we militarize space."

Your head scientist is nodding.

It is a condition.

Drinking Bird Syndrome.

Look, space...

is hard.

"Space is hard."

If you haven't settled on a motto yet,

may I suggest that
that become the new Space Force motto.

Well... exactly.

Tap-tap.

Tap-tap.

Tap!

Tap-tap!

Mmm. Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

Tap-tap.

Are you okay?

Tap-tap.

Just gentle. Gentle.

Look... Just gentle!

What the fuck am I supposed to do?

- Uh...
- No, seriously.

What am I supposed to do here?

Do you know what it's like
to have no one to talk to?

I mean, if you don't have a dirt bike here
or you're not sniffing glue...

Forget it.

Get a job.

Like where?

I'm a high school junior with no skills.

Well, okay, off base,

we've got the cowboy boot store
down by the highway.

Uh, the best restaurant in town,

also known as the strip club.

Actually, I know a place
that is closer to your house

that needs
a sustenance procurement coordinator.

What?

It's just military
for "soft serve slinger."

Yeah, I mean,
it's either that or the strip club.

With your skinny butt, you're probably
gonna make more selling soft serve.

Oh, that is until you
eat enough soft serve

to make more at the strip club.

It's kind of a
"eat for the job you want" kind of vibe.

Mmm.

General Naird,

what is this?

An orange?

How much do you think it costs?

A dollar?

How much do you think it costs
Space Force?

- Dollar-fifty?
- It costs $10,000.

Oh, shit.

As part of your resupply launch
to the ISS last month,

you sent up a variety of fresh,
non-dehydrated foods,

including one orange,
at the transport cost of $10,000.

Yeah, yes. It's been our policy since NASA
to allow astronauts one pound

of the food of their choice
at each resupply.

Even if it's a $10,000 orange?

Well, sometimes
it's just not about saving money.

Sometimes it is,
when it's a budget hearing.

But, please, defend it.

I wanna be able
to tell my constituents on food stamps

why your agency needs a $10,000 orange.

All right, I'll try.

One thing you learn in the military
is that money doesn't matter.

People matter.

Thousands of people working tirelessly,
day and night.

And we may have spent a billion dollars

to put one astronaut in a position

where they can do something
that'll benefit everybody.

And that one astronaut
may be a human being

who is risking her life
in a very dangerous pursuit.

A human being who is not doing it
for the money, by the way.

A human being who is battling fear

and exhaustion and uncertainty.

And who has been eating
dehydrated mac and cheese,

mixed with her own filtered urine,
for the last month.

I want her to have a taste of the Earth.

And remember what she's fighting for.

I see billionaires in the news

who look at space
like it's where we're all going to go

when we trash this planet.

Well, there is no substitute in space
for this planet.

You cannot make an orange
out of powder and urine,

no matter how hard we try.

Only God can make an orange.

Well, whoever made it,

we're the only place in the universe
you can get it.

We better take care of this planet
and the people who live here.

And what better reminder of the Earth
than an orange.

Because an orange, like the Earth itself,

is perfect and round.

It's a flat rectangle!

No, Bob, not really.

Come on.
We are putting people's lives at risk

in the pursuit of science
to solve our many problems.

You don't get to drive my vulva!

You don't get to drive my vulva!

You don't get to drive my vulva!
You don't get to drive my vulva!

No, no! This is Space Force!

The Supreme Court nomination hearing
is Wednesday.

What the fuck was that?

All right, sorry. Sorry.

Got it.

To sum up,

this country has enough wealth

that we can give an astronaut
who is risking her life for all of us

an orange every once in a while.

Pretty words,

but I'm still not hearing any specifics
about the science.

How do you help
my constituents on food stamps?

Maybe it would be cheaper to give
your constituents a nutritional paste,

if all you care about is money.

Would you like us to work on that?

Dr. Adrian Mallory,

Chief Scientist, Space Force.

If you want specifics,
we are developing a new climate satellite

that will provide such precise forecasts

that the advance warning times
for tornadoes and hurricanes

will be tripled,

potentially saving tens of thousands
of American lives

and hundreds of billions
of American dollars in disaster relief.

Sounds wonderful.

It is.

But what if a foreign aggressor
shoots that satellite down?

Not every country with a presence in space

believes in "good for all."

Tap-tap.

Dr. Mallory came to me recently
with a project near and dear to his heart.

Something that could benefit
all humankind.

I believe it involved rat diarrhea.

And I would like him to be able
to continue his experiments

without fear of them being destroyed.

Wouldn't you agree?

General Naird, Dr. Mallory,
you may step down.

Not you, General Grabaston.

I have questions for you.

Why did you spend eight million
to upgrade the F-22

with ostrich leather seats?

Because ostriches are... feathery,

like the magical Earth.