When the Gargantua-1 Space Station breaks orbit and crashes into a wanted terrorist, Colonel Bud Manstrong becomes a national hero. But did it really happen or is Bud’s mother, the indomitable Mrs. Manstrong, behind an insidious plot to assassinate the President? The mysterious blinking band aid on Bud’s head might be the key to a mystery only the ghost of Abraham Lincoln and Team Venture can solve.[Doctor Venture is jealous that Bud Manstrong is getting so much attention] Doctor Venture: They might as well give a medal to the seats while they’re pinning one on “Luck Rogers” over there.
Brock: (with disbelief) “Luck Rogers”?
Doctor Venture: (chuckles) You like that? I almost said “Flash in the pan Gordon”.
Brock: Glad you didn’t. [Brock has just had an unfortunate run-in with Hauser, a member of the Secret Service] Doctor Venture: Friend of yours?
Brock: We were in ‘Nam together.
Doctor Venture: Oh. Wait, you were like 10 during Vietnam.
Brock: Well, I didn’t say during the war.
President Breyer: Ladies and gentlemen, a toast to Colonel Bud Manstrong, a man of bravery, integrity, an indominable spirit of–
Mrs. Manstrong: Oh, quit blowing smoke up the boy’s ass, Breyer! We all know the real reason Bud’s here. Your administration is in the crapper, and you need Mrs. Manstrong’s little Boy Scout on the team to polish that turd.
President Breyer: How’d you like to be Vice-President?
Bud Manstrong: Me?!
President Breyer: Hell yeah, you! Who’d do think I’m talking about; you’re a genuine hero, boy. The Bureau can’t find a damn thing on you, and plus, you’re a little bit of the eye candy for the ladies. Speakin’ of which…(opens door) take a pick.
Bud Manstrong: I’m…not sure I follow you, Sir.
President Breyer: Any of my secretarial staff, ‘cept the one in the blue dress that smells like this!
(Holds his finger up to Bud’s nose)
Bud Manstrong: Oh, dear lord!
President Breyer: That’s Phyllis — got my name written all over her…literally! I once wrote my name on the front of her dress with the tip of my…
Bud Manstrong: OH NO! I’m not hearing this, I’m not hearing this! Good evening, sir!
(Walks out of the office)
President Breyer: (into intercom) Cass, I’ll take that blowjob now.
Doctor Venture: Oh, come on, Brock! This might be five minutes! I’ve been practicing my pitch all week!
Brock: (scoffs) You just have no clue, do you? These aren’t a bunch of fake pirates or dicks in rubber butterfly suits, we’re talking about the United States Secret Service.
Doctor Venture: Please, we’ll both get off the hook when he feasts his eyes on what I’ve got to offer. The thing sells itself! If it doesn’t I can’t afford to pay you this month.
Brock: You don’t pay me.
President Breyer: Nuke-a-lar?
Doctor Venture: That’s not actually a word, but yes.
Ghost of Abraham Lincoln: Venture Brothers!
Lincoln’s Ghost: You must help me! Colonel Manstrong is going to assassinate the president!
Dean: Hank! Wake up! It’s the ghost of Abraham Lincoln!
Hank: (waking up) Who?
Lincoln’s Ghost: Microchip! Microchip! It’s in the back of his head! His mother is using it to control him and she’s going to make him assassinate the president!
Dean: It just sounds a little far-fetched.
Hank: Yeah, thank you, I’m glad you said it.
Lincoln’s Ghost: Didn’t either of you see The Manchurian Candidate? Not even the remake with Denzel? Come on, I’ve been dead for seven score years and even I—
Hank: Who is this guy?
Lincoln’s Ghost: Abraham Lincoln! Sixteenth president of the United States! Come on, you’re kidding me!
Dean: Yeah, didn’t you learn anything in bed?
Lincoln’s Ghost: All right. All right, how ’bout this? I’m the five dollar bill guy.
Hank: You invented the five dollar bill?
Lincoln’s Ghost: Yes, Hank. (shaking his head in resignation) Yes, I did. Dean, you seem to be a little more on the ball here. Help me stop Manstrong.
Dean: Why do you need us?
Lincoln’s Ghost: Because I’m immaterial. Look at this. (Passes arm through Hank and Dean.) It’s a no go! I need to possess one of your bodies. Just for a little while. Until I can stop him. Will one of you do that for me? For the Union?
Hank: Not it!
Dean: Not it!
Hank: OnetwothreefourfivesixseveneightninetenJINX! You owe me a coke!
(Dean, possessed by the Ghost of Abraham Lincoln, tries to kiss Hank.)
(Hank slaps Dean, knocking Lincoln out of him and onto the floor.)
Hank: Dude, what the dilly?!
Dean: Did it work? What happened?
Hank: Honest Abe’s a ‘mo, that’s what happened.
Lincoln’s Ghost: Sorry! Sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It was just a bit overwhelming to have a body again. All those hormones. Whoo! (Stands up.) Right. Just let me try this again. I’m ready for it this time. (Begins to step into Dean.) Who’s Triana, by the way?
Dean: Ah! Just get in!
(Lincoln steps into Dean’s body.)
Hank: And no funny business!
Lincoln’s Ghost: Yes already! Like you boys never experimented.
Hauser: (to Brock) Nice one. Everything you touch turns to suck. It’s official.
Doctor Venture: Oh, no, they called my brother? Could this be any more embarrassing? (mockingly to Dr. Venture, Jr. through the forcefield) Yeah, all right, hi! I see you! Go to hell!
Hank: We build a gun made out of pennies!
Ghost of Abraham Lincoln: Exactly! Wait, no, that’s insane!
Dean: How? How?
Hank: What are you, an owl? He can make it with his magic!
Ghost of Abraham Lincoln: For the last time, Hank, I’m a ghost, not a genie.
Lincoln’s Ghost: Oh, FDR. He was a real president. I loved to watch him sleep. Weight of the world on his little polio shoulders. The depression. World War Two. He slept like a baby. Now that is a clear conscience. This Breyer guy, though, he’s the worst president I’ve ever seen!
Lincoln’s Ghost: My Lincoln sense is tingling! Manstrong’s making his move!
Lincoln’s Ghost: (diving at Manstrong) Here comes the Rail-Splitter!!
Doctor Venture: (seeing replay of crashing Gargantua-1) I knew it! Told you this clown was no hero. He just blacked out in the middle of a hand job.
Lincoln’s Ghost: Someone’s playing with his Lincoln Log!
Dean: (to the Ghost of Abraham Lincoln) You’re still here. Shouldn’t you have crossed over?
Doctor Venture: Apparently stopping my bodyguard from beating up a repressed masturbator just isn’t enough to get you into Heaven these days. Go figure.