[whip cracks]
Maestro:
This is your last chance.
[whip cracks] Ah!
Maestro: Get Somerset's songs or you die.
[heavy breathing]
♪ [dramatic music]
♪ [rock music]
I wish we could just ask Somerset for the song
he played when he electrocuted.
Who cares? It's gone forever.
It would be amazing, but we can't remember it,
and he never recorded it, so.
Tryke?
Yeah, bro?
He's not your actual bro, by the way, just so we're clear.
Well, excuse me, family tree hugger.
We jammed without you,
and it was a pointless waste of my time.
I'm sorry, brother, I've been busy with Tip Topper.
He's not your brother, okay? We're not your family,
we're in a failing band business together.
I can barely recognize Molly's dickless lapdog over here.
You can't recognize me because I'm growed up.
Ha! That's laughable.
You're laughable. We are affable.
We're laughing about you, okay?
Bro, high five!
Nah, who cares.
Davian, you're leaving me hanging.
Please let me know if you're going to close this five.
Oh, brother.
Great, get ready for some more hurtful comments.
The Plateaus? That's the opening band?
Nobody cares about them anymore.
There, there must be some kind of mistake.
This is not a mistake, this is actually the hellish hellhole
that is my real life.
Actually, there is a mistake, Jay Barf-uchel.
Our manager messed up.
Hey, your makeup looks really good
even though you don't even need any.
Yeah, well, I would give you some tips.
But you're already very gorgeous.
I'd still love some tips, thank you!
I'll give you the tips!
I dare you!
Oh, watch, I'm going to give you so many tips.
-Bathroom now!
It's not Barf-uchel, it's just Baruchel,
there's no F.
Ow!
[laughs]
Girl, I am just riding this train
as long as it's beneficial to me and then, "Bam,"
I am going solo.
I have already started writing
my own popular material for kids.
Cool kids.
I have this book full of lyrics.
They don't even care about it because all they care about
is like samurai swords and their weird penises.
Yup.
And I'm just so done with men right now.
Even brother men at this point.
It's so nice to talk to another woman.
Tell me about it. Tequila?
Thank you.
Now let's go climb the ladder
while these guys suck each other's dicks.
[moaning]
-You suck.
-You suck most.
-You suck huge. -You suck small.
Green room, Kiss Me, now!
All right.
Plateaus, dinner break, now.
[blows raspberry]
What a bunch of bags of butts, right, Davian?
I've got to go find my girlfriend.
Hey, Molly keeps--
I'd like to eat in silence, thanks.
If we're not talking, we're not a band, Tryke!
Well then I bet you we're not a band,
or else you've got to jerk off your family's member,
and high-five me with it, finally.
[sighs]
Somerset (on record):
Thanks for having us... Roger.
Oh, uh, it's Badger.
Gag clip:
Slap these on.
So, Somerset, how long have you--
[heavy breathing]
♪ ♪
Heavenly Jesus, this rules!
The long-lost second Somerset's song.
Oh, it's beautiful!
The long-lost second Somerset song!
Somerset?
He's bleeding!
♪ [eerie music]
[heavy breathing]
♪ ♪
Morgan:
Me, too!
-[both]: I'm quitting! -I'm getting married!
Wait, what, you're getting married?
-Oh, congratulations!
Thank you very much, what did you say?
Oh, I quit the band, and that's final.
Guys, I've given it a lot of thought,
rap is my God-given gift,
Tip Topper and I are a team.
No, no, no, no... shut up, shut up!
I get to talk first because I quit first, okay?
I'm quitting the band because I've done a ton of writing
and no one has supported or encouraged me the entire time.
Then it's over and I'm gonna plan my wedding.
Best man, high five!
Davian. She puts hairpins in my food.
Gives me death stares.
-No. No. -Yes, she does! She does.
And you can't marry someone that does that.
Why don't you let me live my life?
Davian, you're leaving me hanging.
-Who's your best man? -Oh, sorry.
Molly's many guy friends are my best man.
Guys, you're on stage, hello!
Here goes nothing.
I am definitely not listening to the garbage fire
that is their music. Let's smoke weed.
Yes!
Oh, God!
Oh, it's alive.
So I should kill it.
No, no.
-You want me to kill it? -No, we're actor-vegans.
No animal is harmed in the making of our art.
Oh, he stinks! He stinks!
He smells horrible.
Really?
[moans]
He's definitely got the hepatiti.
[ambulance wailing]
[moans]
Ugh.
Tyler Kyte, am I going to die?
I mean, yeah.
Elisha. Elisha Cuthbert,
will you be at my funeral?
Me? At the funeral? Oh.
Jay Baruchel, will, will you speak at my funeral?
Uh, do I speak at-- your funeral...
I've prepared a few words.
It's in my front pocket. You can reach in it.
Go nuts in there.
Um, no. No, I won't.
[gagging]
[heavy breathing]
Shit. Where do you live, man?
[flat line]
[gasps]
Kiss Me!
[Tip Topper beat boxing poorly]
♪
Yikes!
I'm home alone.
♪ mischievous
This is it. Don't get scared now.
[Tip Topper mumbling]
♪ ♪
[Tip Topper humming]
Ah!
Ah.
[screaming]
[hacks]
Ah!
Do I do Maestro's bidding, and betray Tryke?
Or do I don't do?
No.
The Plateaus are my friends.
Have you had enough or are you thirsty for more?
[clang]
Um...
What have you done?
What the hell?
Guys.
-Is that Tip Topper? -I found it.
I found the--
You monster!
Bad badger!
I found the song!
Both: Bad, bad!
Did you do that?!
I never want to see your face again, you hear me?
Bad!
Get out, badger!
Bad.
♪ [tense music]
You okay, man?
I'm fine.
I have to disappear.
What?
What do you mean, you're--
Dude, I'll just come with you.
Let me go, Tryke.
Let me go.
Okay.
What is going on?
Everything is broken.
Well, I guess that was our last show we'll ever play.
Them's the braids.
Yeah, well, maybe it's for the best, I don't know.
Should we divide everything up?
Yeah, uh, dissolve the band, and sell all the gear.
Whatever.
Okay, fine.
Fine.
♪ [eerie music]
I swear to live to protect Tryke.
And by association,
The Plateaus.
♪ ♪
[breathing heavily]
[muffled screaming]
[heavy breathing]
♪ ♪
Do not email my Yahoo.
So...
So which one are you using?
I'm using Hotmail.
Okay.
As your manager, I probably should've told you that.
Oh, Jesus.
I have a gift for the only super-famous people
that care about me.
-No, thanks. -No, thank you.
It's Somerset's follow-up song to "Yng Luv."
He died singing it. It's, it's gorgeous.
And I want you to have it.
Jesus shit Christ.
What?
You've, uh, done a great thing today.
All: Ear-eye!
Thank you, Badger.
♪ [tense music]