The Venture Bros., Season 4

The Venture Bros. is an animated cable television series created by Jackson Publick and written by Publick and Doc Hammer. It chronicles the adventures of two dopey teenage boys Hank and Dean, their mediocre "super-scientist" father (and former boy adventurer) Dr. Thaddeus "Rusty" Venture, and their secret-agent bodyguard Brock Samson.

The Monarch:
[Laughs evilly] Time to pay the piper, Venture. Or in minutes my meca-pillar silky issue will destroy the only living proof you've actually had sex. That is, unless you give me $10 million!

Dr. Venture:
What?! Since when do you arch for money?

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch:
Yeah, what are you doing?

The Monarch:
Honey, how long have we been trying to kill this schmuck, 10, 20 years?

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch:
I don't know, since Marky Mark had a Funky Bunch!

The Monarch:
And it never works. You wanna know how to really hurt Venture?

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch:
Not really, but as a wife I try to be supportive, so.

The Monarch:
We strike him in the pocket book. Ha-ha.

Dr. Mrs. The Monarch:
Yeah, speaking of which, how much did those meca-pillars set us back?

The Monarch:
I dunno, a couple of mil. Anyway, it's $10 million Venture. Tick-tock tick-tock.

Dr. Venture:
Look I don't have that type of cash lying around.

Dean:
Daddy! [Meca-pillar gags him]

Dr. Venture:
All right, you can have anything in my lab. Anything you see here, take your pick. Anything except for the positronic accelerator...

The Monarch:
I don't want any of your old crap. This isn't "Antiques Roadshow," dick. Its your money or their lives!

Hank:
Yeah, quit being such a skin-flint and pay the piper-man.

Sgt. Hatred:
Now don't take sides with your arch-enemy!

Hank:
Shut up, you're not the dad of me.

Dr. Venture:
Hank! Don't you sass your bodyguard.

Hank:
He's not my bodyguard.

Dr. Venture:
Will you accept half for just Dean? You can keep Hank.

Sgt. Hatred:
Your father doesn't mean that Hank.

Dr. Venture:
Oh don't I. Do you know what Mr. Smart-mouth called me as he stormed out this morning, a honky.

The Monarch:
[Chuckle] Did you really?

Hank:
Yeah.

The Monarch:
I'm transmitting you the instruction for the drop-off now, I suggest you follow them. Or your boys will follow the rainbow bridge to Valhalla. [Laughs] That is not as dark as its sounds in my head, is it?

Doctor:
I think a good way to begin is to tell Rusty a bit about yourselves and your journey to the group.

Hero formerly known as Wonderboy:
Me first? Well, I have a bit of an eating disorder...

Lance Hale:
No!

Doctor:
Lance, wait your turn.

Hero formerly known as Wonderboy:
As a superhero sidekick, I led a very active, athletic lifestyle. But when I turned eighteen, and I was, shall we say, "replaced with a newer model," I started putting the weight on. And then I would eat more because I was depressed. (The Doctor prompts him to continue.) And...I have abandonment issues? More?

Doctor:
Tell Rusty your name.

Hero formerly known as Wonderboy:
Oh, well, that's a tricky one! The latest development in my caped crusade against Captain Sunshine's lawyers is that I get to keep most of the costume, but I'm no longer allowed to call myself Wonderboy when I appear in public.

Lance Hale:
*cough* Mall openings! *cough*

Doctor:
Lance...

Lance Hale:
Our turn? Lance Hale, one half of the world-famous Hale Brothers. Boy detectives. You've heard of us. Anyway, we're here because my allegedly twin brother Dale still hasn't gotten over our father's death.

Dale Hale:
I can still see his face through the steam of his pooling blood as he lay sputtering on the cold linoleum floor...

Lance Hale:
(punches Dale in the arm) Punch-buggy depressing! Nobody wants to hear that crap, Dale! Heheh, sorry. We didn't just lose our dad that night. His death remains our only unsolved case ever. We had to quit the business because the shame was just too great.

Action Johnny:
Yeah, retiring at thirty on daddy's famous fortune must've been real hard on you...

Lance Hale:
For your information, Action Junkie, he bequeathed most of it to the local boy detective academy. We hardly got dick because nothing we ever did was good enough!

Dale Hale:
He did leave us that nice car...

Lance Hale:
It's totally f***in' cherry! But that is not the point, Dale, and don't interrupt me again, or I swear to God I will f*** you up...

#21:
We are getting hammered out there! Sgt. Hatred does not share Brock's aversion to firearms, and now even their robot's packing heat! We need body armor.

Dr. Girlfriend:
Well, what's that you're wearing?

#21:
I had to buy this myself online! I'm out-of-pocket an AT-AT Walker, two Greedos, and a Landspeeder. And not everyone here has Star Wars duplicates to sell on eBay. Half these guys weren't even born when Empire came out, and the rest are barely making minimum wage!

Henchman:
You guys get paid?

#21:
And another thing-retractable wings. I mean, this is ridiculous! These things are just big, clumsy, orange kill-me signs in the battlefield, and it's not like it's any better when we get back here. Every doorway in this cocoon is tapered at the arch.

Dr. Girlfriend:
Well, we're not changing any doors, but we'll take the wing thing under consideration.

#21:
I have a better solution, and I've brought some visual aids. Big-screen! [A big monitor is lowered, giving the following presentation] Gentlemen, and lady, I give you the henchman of the future. The Mighty Monarch Mark-V Henchsuit. Made of flexible poly-alloy, they are lightweight, fireproof, and bulletproof. In keeping with our insect theme, the turbo-hydraulic exoskeleton increases the wearer's strength and agility tenfold. But it's not all about defense. The Mark-V also boasts an impressive array of offensive weapons, including grappling spears, gas-propelled rockets and 25-millimeter heat-seeking, fire-and-forget missiles all controlled via heads-up display built right into the state-of-the-art helmet.

Dr. Girlfriend:
Which reminds me-people, I'm told you're using too much bandwidth, so if you're not using the Internet for official...

#21:
Whoa! Whoa! Hey, hey! Wait a minute! What about my Mighty Monarch Mark-V Henchsuit?!

Dr. Girlfriend:
Oh, come on, 21. If half that stuff even exists yet, it would cost a fortune.

#21:
Well then why don't you send us out to rob a bank or ransom the moon or something! Aren't you guys supposed to be supervillains?

Dr. Girlfriend:
We have a more...specialized practice. Look, we just can't afford it right now, okay?

The Monarch:
[coming in on his "Butter-Glider"] Check out what I just bought!

Pete White:
I have a check here for $50,000 for whoever helps me rescue Billy from vampires.

Brock:
We're not mercenaries, White. We handle the guys that nobody else wants to deal with.

Pete White:
Well, that's perfect, because nobody else wants to deal with me.

Brock:
Yeah, you're not getting it. Hunter, why don't you explain what we do here at SPHINX.

Shore Leave:
SPHINX!

Col. Gathers:
It works like this-if someone points a gun at you, you call the police. If a bunch of guys are pointing guns at you, you call SWAT. If they're in spandex and pointing a super laser at you, you call OSI. And if they're dressed regular and pointing a super laser at your daughter, that's when you call SPHINX.

Shore Leave:
SPHINX!

Col. Gathers:
So explain to me why we'd give a squirt about your roomie being abducted by vampires.

Pete White:
We're talking about Billy here! You guys owe him. You did the...you know.

Col. Gathers:
Spit it out, White! This is SPHINX!

Shore Leave:
SPHINX.

Col. Gathers:
We have no secrets here. When men live and work together, it's imperative that there are no secrets. I miss my breasts! Inside of me, there's a woman screaming to be heard.

Mile High:
I hit a dog with my car last week, but told the owner I found him like that.

Brock:
I once jerked off twelve times in one day just to see if I could.

SPHINX Agent:
I had an erotic dream about Henry Rollins last night, and I'm straight as an arrow.

Shore Leave:
Remember that smell I told you was the garbage? That was my ass. I had chicken tandoori for lunch.

Dr. Venture:
[nuzzling an escort] How about I take you to my boudoir and give you a little Rusty Venture?

[She gets off his lap, slaps him and walks away]

Alchemist:
Whoa! Denied! What was that about?

Shore Leave:
Boom! Right out of the gate, you ask for a Rusty Venture. That is bold, my friend. Kudos!

Dr. Venture:
What? I had chilled bubbly in my room.

Alchemist:
Rust, you do realize that a "rusty venture" is when you take your finger and run it around a guy's asshole while you pull the guy off into his own face.

Dr. Venture:
What?! My name is a sex act?! When did that happen?!

Shore Leave:
Uh, like, in the 80s, and Al is way off. A rusty venture is when you 69 and fill each other's mouths with cum; then you turn over and blow splooge into each other's cracks.

Dr. Venture:
Good lord! How can that be named after me?! What does that have to do with me?

Shore Leave:
Oh, don't play coy. Your cartoon was huge in the gay community. We used to throw Rusty Venture parties in the Castro, and we'd all wear little striped tops and tight little shorts.

Alchemist:
How could you not know this? Man, you're like a little twinkie Cher. A ginger friggin' Liza Minnelli.

Dr. Venture:
No. I missed this. I don't 69 guys and do that spinning thing.

Alchemist:
That's not a Rusty Venture. That's a Snake Venom.

Shore Leave:
You are misinformed, my darling. [Pulls out cell phone] You want to settle this, maybe make a little wager?

Alchemist:
Fine. I'll bet you a Rusty Venture I'm right.

Dr. Venture:
Stop it!

Shore Leave:
You are on. I'm going to call an authority on both subjects.

Col. Gentleman:
[answering his phone while doing a model of the USS Indianapolis on his dog's back] Hello? Oh, sure. I am the one who started that craze in P-Town with Tennessee Williams. It's brilliant. What you do is you take a scuba snorkel and you put your cock in the wee bendy mouth part. Then you snake the other end right up your back address, okay? Then you just grab the middle of the snorkel and you're f***in' your own ass and pulling off your crank at the self-same time, until you're standin' in your own jacksie! That's a Rusty Venture! [His dog runs off] Mischa! Mischa! Bad girl!

Shore Leave:
[hanging up] Useless. That was Colonel Gentleman.

Alchemist:
And?

Shore Leave:
And the out-of-touch old windbag just described a Double Frog Man.

Alchemist:
Ugh! Give me your phone.

Watch:
[on other end] You? I told you, when your arch is terminated by a third party, it's not our problem! A what? Well, of course I do! It's when you fist a guy and then open up your hand inside his ass and grab-no, he's laying down. Then whatever you come out with, you rub on his dick.

Ward:
Wrong! The Rusty Venture is a straight move. Okay, it's when you take a girl out for a huge dinner, but you don't let her go to the can. Then you have anal sex with her and she craps all over your dick; so right when you're about to get off, you take it out and blow shit cum all over her back.

Watch:
That's a Rusty Venture?

Ward:
No, that's the Rusty part; the Venture part is when you eat that junk off her back without using your hands.

Watch:
Are you getting this?

Alchemist:
Yeah, I heard it. and you're both wrong. To settle a bet. Yes, with Shore Leave.


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