(cheerless theme music)
(machine beeping)
- Oh, God.
- What's up?
- Oh, it's just, you remember Devin from high school?
- Devin 11, with the extra finger?
- Yeah. It turns out he's a concert pianist now.
- God, social media is the worst.
- Quick, fake a picture of me
looking cool in battle.
- Mm-hmm, compare and despair man.
- Huh?
- Compare and despair.
You can't compare yourself to other people.
- Yeah, yeah. I guess not.
- Here, you think I compare myself
to any of those randos?
- Larry, these aren't randos.
These are you.
This is Parallelogram.
It tracks all the yous in parallel universes.
- Yeah. But like, who cares?
I don't even know these people.
You are these people.
- It's like, what do they even have to do with me?
- You're the same person.
- Everyone's on their own path, right?
- So you're technically on the same path
and then you branch off to different paths
based on better or worse decision making.
This is basically a magazine
of how much better you could be.
Look here's you with abs.
(blows lips together)
- Oh come on.
He's just sucking in his gut,
and sucking out his pecs, biceps, calves, dang!
That's a hot Larry.
- Still, who wants to spend all their time at the gym?
What about a family?
- You don't have a family.
Yeah, but this Larry does.
Ah, snap, this Larry's hot too.
Anyway, who needs to be shredded or love anyone?
I'm focused on my career.
- You mean like this Larry?
- That's not me, that's Dread Lord.
- No, that's you having been promoted to Dread Lord.
- I can't believe I'm Dread Lord.
I want to thank my wife, my kids, my personal trainer-
- Okay, but who's to say
if any of these Larry's are happy?
- The app does.
This one scores a 93.
- What do I score?
- A surprising 81.
- See, that's because I don't compare and despair.
- You know what Larry,
I could learn a thing or two from you.
The least successful Larry in the multi-verse
and you're still an 81, 54, 22.
- I can't be the worst Larry, Rich.
I can't be the worst Larry!
Quick, fake a picture of me looking cool in battle?
- What are you doing in my clothes?
- Just cosplay.
(sighs)
- This took so long to set up.
- Two credits.
- Already posted, so...
- Deleting.
- I'll pay, I'll pay, I'll pay.
I'll pay, I'll pay, I'll pay,
I'll pay though, I'll pay though.
- [All Larrys] I can't be the worst Larry.
(cheerless theme music)
- Dread Lord Sinister,
Here is your pizza, sir.
Fresh from Stromboli's.
Fresh? This is cold as ice
from an ice planet.
- Sir we've been over this.
Stromboli's is on the other side of the Dread Cruiser.
It takes weeks to get there and back.
- Tell you what,
why don't you get me another pizza
using my new teleportation device.
It's in beta, but don't worry.
It's been tested on mice.
- And how did they do?
- Who?
- The mice.
- Mmm, defined do.
- Did they-
- Anyway, you'll be there and back
quicker than a mouse with a hundred legs.
- Why would you say that specifically?
- It's a figure of speech.
Look, even I said,
"Don't put them in there all at once."
But you know, bad scientists.
- The same scientists who made the device?
- No, no, no, no.
After a punishing trip through the teleportation device
they could never be called the same.
(cackles maniacally)
Anyway, let me get a large cheese
and a diet frizz.
What? What is this? A human hand?
Explain yourself.
- Well, sir...
- Aah! Good God, man.
What's wrong with you?
- The teleportation device mixed up me
and the pizzas molecules I think.
- Well, I've lost my appetite.
- Oh, thank God.
- For 'zza.
Go back and get me a Caesar salad extra anchovies.
- Oh No.
- So let me get this straight.
You have the head of anchovy,
the body of anchovy,
the smell of anchovy,
on the plus side your hands are back to normal.
- But they're fins.
- Yeah well, normal for an anchovy.
Okay. New plan.
We send you through the teleportation device
again and again and again
until you're back to normal.
- But sir, won't that just mix me up even more?
- No, no, no, mix anything up enough
and it falls right back into place.
Take this Rubik's cube.
I got mad and shot it.
You want to be next?
(sighs)
Before you go, remember these words.
- Yes sir?
- Pasta puttanesca, meatball sub, cannoli.
Maybe you should be writing this down.
Nope.
Nah-uh.
Yikes.
Wow.
Bad.
Pretty okay.
But now I want regular frizz.
Now you're regular frizz.
There, what did I tell you?
Even a broken clock is right if I say so.
- Thank you sir.
- Now, if you don't mind,
I'll take my leave.
- Forget the cannoli?
Hate it when they do that.
- So what's the verdict on calling you cannoli-
- You may not call me that.
- But it's factual.
- No.
(cheerless theme music)
- Valued employees,
you and you also,
it's time for your annual performance review.
- Dread Lord, sir,
I think I speak for us both,
when I say last year was
very productive - Not our fault.
Very productive.
- Oh this isn't a review of last year.
It's a review of next year.
Say hello to the feedback forward time machine
and future projector.
It also scans.
- Whoa, that thing sees into the future?
- To judge our future performance?
- It does,
and you're demoted.
- What?! - We didn't do...
- Why? - We're not gonna do anything.
- According to projections,
you will blast a hole in the spaceship.
(both groaning)
- Gimme!
- No, you give me!
Oh, no, it was predicted.
- Like I said, demoted.
- Ah.
- But now that we know that
we will take the machine
use it to go to the future ourselves
and stop ourselves from blasting a hole
in the space ship.
- Blasting a hole in the space ship.
My idea too.
So smart us.
- Mm-kay.
- Gimme!
- No, you give me!
- Gimme!
- No, you give me!
- Oh, no, it was predicted.
- Again, demoted.
Ah, wait, but now that we know that
we will go to the future to stop ourselves
from taking the time machine?
- Gimme!
- No, you give me!
- Everybody calm down.
- You see where this is going.
- Okay. I've got it, shared gun-stody.
I get Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays,
and every other Sunday.
Agreed?
- Agreed.
See, no more fighting over the gun.
(machine beeping)
- Isn't your day with the gun?
- Huh? I thought it was your day with the gun.
(Monster snarls)
- Oh, Dread light savings.
- Just a pitch, what if I go into the future
and shoot that lizard monster?
- Dang. Missed him.
- Well, what if
- Oh crud, I missed him again.
Hear me out.
- Got him.
- (All cheer)
- Way to go, fourth Larry.
- Wait. Did you guys already miss?
- [All Larrys] Woo.
- See? You kept going, missing, coming back
and going again.
You should have gone earlier erasing the later times.
- Now that I know that,
why don't I do that?
Because you don't understand what I'm saying.
- Touché.
- Okay. I've got it.
We forfeit the gun to you,
Dread Lord here and now.
- Oops.
I mean this is all your fault.
- Okay. I've got it.
We'd take the gun back from you here and now?
- Gimme!
- No, you give me.
- Oops.
I mean this is all your fault.
It's almost as if the hole in the space ship
is somehow meant to be.
It is I, Rich from the distant future.
The hole in the spaceship is more important
than you could possibly imagine.
It sets off a series of events.
That saves huma-
(explosion)
- What? Guy was like 80.
You've got plenty of time.
(cheerless theme music)
(machine beeping)
(Larry panting)
- Rich, I did it.
(Laughs)
I stole Dread Lord's tablet.
- What? How in the galaxy did you do that?
- Like a master thief,
I took it from the bathroom
where he left it on accident.
Check it out.
It's got everyone's grades.
- Grades?
- Yeah. Look.
Finley, three strength.
Robyn, four charisma.
- Whoa, it's us.
- What? This can't be right.
A one intelligence.
I'm a genius.
- Uh, Larry one is bad.
- Oh, so you want the high numbers.
- Hey, with a little hard work and determination,
maybe you could become a two.
- That's not nice Rich.
Which makes sense coming from two charisma.
- A two chari...
There is no way.
Why would you even be friends with me?
- Because I'm not smart.
- So you think these stats are accurate?
- Pff, not a chance.
Could a two strength do this many gun lifts?
One a thousand, two a thousand, two and a half,
but you know, round off a little bit, a thousand.
Only if you were strong as you are loyal.
Who-
- Three, four, five, woo!
- See, you never loser.
I'ma take over the spaceship.
- Wait, Larry.
I think this tablet is more powerful than we thought.
- Huh?
(tablet beeps)
Oh, I get it now.
Man, this gun's heavy.
- Don't you see what this means?
We can be as smart or strong
or charismatic as we want.
- But only at the expense of something else.
Wait, am I smarter than you now?
- Can't have that.
(tablet beeps)
My mistake, so obvious in retrospect.
Whoa, Rich.
Are you okay?
- No you moron.
Give me back my strength.
- Oh, you want to be strong, do you?
Well, too bad because now all you are is
(tablet beeps)
nice to me.
- Larry, Larry, Larry,
It's your best friend Rich..
- Hey Rich.
- Oh man, I love you man.
Isn't it neat we're in space?
- Hey Rich, got your nose.
- Oh man, right from under my helmet.
First Dread Lord's tablet,
and now this?
You're some kinda steal king.
- Master thief. - Master thief, yeah.
You know something?
You should take over the spaceship.
- You think?
- Sure, why would your wits, your good looks,
and my nose?
- Wait, wait, wait, wait,
no intelligence, no loyalty.
Maybe this was a bad idea.
(tablet beeps)
- Wow. Yeah.
Maybe some things are better not messed with.
- What do you think awareness is?
- Huh? What's the harm in a bar.
Yeah, right.
What's the harm in a bar?
(tablet beeps)
- So we're pawns.
I guess I knew that on some level.
(tablet beeps)
Keep us on low intelligence
and high on loyalty for a reason,
that makes sense.
(tablet beeps)
We're the bad guys?
(tablet beeps)
We're animated characters
in a series it's been rebooted already-
- That's enough for today.
(tablet beeps)
(cheerless theme music)
- Rich, we need to talk.
- Uh-oh.
- I just feel like we're drifting apart.
- We are?
- Oh, not you and me,
me and the other beings I'm becoming
as part of my species' reproductive process.
- Oh, do they need to be here for this?
- Yes, This involves both of us.
- Both of who?
- You and me, the three,
make that four other beings in front of you.
- Huh? Nice to meet you.
- It's still me Rich.
All mes are me, remember?
Sorry, sorry.
The many beings one mind thing,
it's just a little hard for me
to wrap my little human head around.
- Rich, you knew what you were getting into
when we started dating.
I said I have a nut allergy,
I don't do aisle seats,
and at the exact age of 37,
I'll split into any number of bodies
with the same consciousness.
- Yeah, it's just, it's a lot to take in.
- I understand.
Look, I think we should see other people.
- We should?
- No, we should, three out of the four of us.
Oops, sorry, five out of the six of us.
- I see.
- I'm so grateful for our time together.
- So am I.
- No, our time together,
me and the other mes time together.
But I'm six, eight beings now Rich
and I want to see more of what the universe has to offer.
- But one of you would still be my fiance?
- Of course.
- So one of you wouldn't see more
of what the universe has to offer?
- Well, we would because we're one mind.
(sighs)
- I don't know.
What, if you meet someone amazing
and want to spend all of your time with them?
Well, we would, because again
we're one mind.
- Or get married to them?
- We would, one mind?
- Or have a family?
- Rich, that's not going to happen.
- You say that, but how do you really know that?
- Because our species doesn't reproduce that way.
We reproduce by becoming any number
of omni conscious bodies at
the exact age of 37. - Exact at the age of 37.
I remember.
I think I'm just worried I'll get jealous.
- Well are you jealous now?
- Why would I be jealous now?
- Because I'm already the mind of my entire species.
- Oh, so you're already with lots of other partners.
Huh, I guess I never thought about it like that.
Just out of curiosity, like how, how many,?
- Excuse me?
- I'm sorry.
- I mean, it's not as if I've counted.
- Like millions? Billions? Trillions?
- Rich, I'm not playing this game with you.
- Were any of them, I don't know, taller than me?
- Rich, There are some like conscious planets.
- Smarter than me?
- Some AIs.
- Funnier than me?
- Some Whoopy Cushonians.
- Mmm, that's not a th...
That's a joke?
- Have you ever been with anyone as funny as me?
(sighs)
Hey, I love you.
- Delana.
- Delani, the plural.
- Delani, I love all of you too.
And I truly want what's best for you.
- And that's what makes you
one of the best partners in the galaxy.
- Better than the AIS?
- Mmm, they sort of mastered everything.
- Yeah, that makes sense.
So would the original Delana stay with me or?
- Well, there is no original.
- Oh, so who would stay with me?
It doesn't matter really.
- So I pick?
- No you don't pick.
- No, I mean, I didn't think so.
- So you pick?
- Sure, sure I can pick
- Not it, not it, not it, not it,
not it, not it, not it, not it, not it, crap.
- Hey.
- I'm kidding.
(cheerless theme music)
- Commander.
- General Crimson, what is the report
from the front lines?
- Our elite troopers were successful.
- As expected.
- But sustained heavy damage.
- Such is the price of war.
- Send them to the infirmary at once
secure in the knowledge they have earned my gratitude.
- At once commander.
Um sir-
- General, I trust our heroes have recovered.
- That's just it, sir.
It would seem that the door
to the infirmary is in fact to outer space.
So the troopers are not alive anymore.
They're dead because of the whole space thing.
- What? How could this have happened?
I demand that you investigate.
- Very well.
You wouldn't have wanted them dead,
would you sir?
- What are you implying?
It's just that perhaps it's more expedient
for you to kill them
than to heal them?
- General I am aghast,
but if you feel I must be investigated as well
then take this matter to the
Impartial Investigation Committee.
- At once, Commander.
- Well that about does it.
71 mismarked doors all of them
now leading directly into outer space.
- Excellent work, Dominic.
Now, even these very walls cannot contain my evil.
(cackles maniacally)
- So about my paycheck.
- Oh, of course.
You could pick it up at accounts payable.
Mr. Sinister sir, I don't wanna sound suspicious
but accounts payable is one of the very doors
I made into outer space.
- Dominic you clever fox.
You got me, there you are.
- These are gift shop credits.
- Do spend them all in one place.
- That lousy...
(Dominic yelling)
- Well that about does it,
the gift shop is now a room
that turns people inside out.
- Excellent work, Dominic.
- Sebastian.
- Who's Dominic? You're working with my brother?
- Not any more.
That's an ominous response,
but no matter, how's about my paycheck?
You can pick it up at accounts payable.
- I see no issue with that.
- Mr. Dread Lord, sir?
- Yes?
- I reckon this isn't my place to say,
but there are some vicious rumors floating around
that you're shooting troopers into outer space
and turning them inside out,
and I think I speak for all of us,
when I say this is bad for morale.
- I see. Why don't you go find some morale
with this 30 credit coupon to the Dread spa.
- I'm not really the spa type.
- I insist.
(soothing music)
I ain't finishing no spa
until you tell me what happened to my brothers.
(sighs)
(cheerless theme music)