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When Dr. Venture finally succeeds in attaining the holy grail of superscience, the revivification of a human corpse for fun and profit, a washed up gang of wandering former teen sleuths is convinced that the Venture Compound is haunted. Their investigation uncovers something far creepier. Meanwhile, Orpheus shepherds Brock through a crisis of conscience with the help of a New Age shaman and a bizarre tea party.

[A POV shot of a Monarch Henchman’s goggles. A strike force assembles by a crevasse near the Venture Compound] #21: (to the POV) Hey, Texas! Ya staying frosty?
[POV nods in agreement] #21: Good! Get your game face on, ’cause that’s the Venture Compound! We lost a lot of good men trying to take that place…
[#24 appears] #24: Why are you wasting your time talking to the new meat? 9 in 10 don’t even last a month.

Dr. Orpheus: [To Brock] You and I have shared a toasted cheese sandwich more than twice!

Dr. Orpheus: Who Is Hector Molina? And Why do they keep sending me his Junk Mail?!?

Dr. Orpheus: Don Rio is a transcendent multidimensional genius, Brock. His every word an onion of infinite leaf! His every Pearl – [Is violently sick into a bucket] – Oh. Yes. This is coming on now.

Brock: Hey, you know what? I think I… I feel a little bad about killing that guy.
Dr. Orpheus: [Brock’s POV, he is shimmering wildly as Brock begins to hallucinate] Yeees, my friend, a splendid first step indee- [Is sick again]

Ted: C’mon Sonny. Mystery.
Sonny: Fuck your mystery, man…I…I’m sick!
Ted: [holds up a prescription bottle] Sonny… bet you’ll come out for some Groovy Treats.
[Sonny scrambles out of the Mystery Van and falls in the mud, to the amusement of the gang]

Brock: It’s bad, Doc, real bad. The boys saw their own clones. I think they’re in some kind of… saw your own clone…coma.

Dr. Venture: More power! I must have more power! Look Brock, his fingers! They’re twitching!
Brock: Yeah, well, stuff will do that if you shove a gigavolt up its ass.
Dr. Venture: No, he’s alive! ALIVE I tell you!
Brock: Uh, sure Doc.

Patty: I don’t know about this, Ted…
Ted: Patty, if God didn’t want us to solve this mystery, he wouldn’t have had us run out of gas here.
Patty: But…what’s the Mystery?
Sonny: Hey, Y’know, we’re not out of gas, man…We got a five gallon tank in the back of the…
Ted: [hits Sonny] Why do you hate God so much?
Sonny: I don’t hate God, Man…
Ted: Well, God thinks you hate him, and that’s just as bad as hating him. So how about you and Groovy go and start looking for some clues!
Sonny: Clues to what? What is your trip?
Ted: [Upbeat] Clues to why I don’t chain you to the back of my van and roadhaul you until you’re nothing but a pelvis – wearing a belt!
Groovy the Bloodhound: Guy’s pissin’ on your lawn, man.

Groovy the Bloodhound: Painted lips!… School-girl outfits!… And zer pretty hair, Sonny… zer hair needs to be punished, Sonny…
Sonny: Would ya give it a rest, Grooves?
Groovy the Bloodhound: Start doing zer Master’s bidding! Yer already filthy wiz wrath and sin!

[Looking at a globe] Hank: Where the heck did they put African America?

[Upon discovering the room filled with slug clones of the Venture Brothers] Ted: You’re not ghosts! You’re the fucking Boys from Brazil!

Dr. Venture: Brock, I need dead people. Lots and lots of dead people.
Brock: Uh-huh.
Dr. Venture: I already got 12 from the henchmen you killed, not counting the black guy without the head, but we need like, uh, 100 something. We need like a full gross of dead people.
Brock: Right, and, uh…where are we gonna get all these dead people?
Dr. Venture: Well, I thought, seeing how you are… you know, you and all, maybe… you could go out and–
Brock: No.
Dr. Venture: –make some…
Brock: No.
Dr. Venture: …dead people.
Brock: No.
Dr. Venture: Well, fine. Thanks a lot for not helping.
Brock: Anything else?

Dr. Orpheus: [Referring to Venturestein] Is that man dead?
Dr. Venture: Uh, no.
Dr. Orpheus: Once again Mr. Venture you leave decency to the quick and leave her to die in prostitute ally!
Venturestein: Prostituuuutes!

Brock: Why’s he gotta cry like that?
Hank: I think you scare him.
Brock: Well, I’m not the one who froze his corpse or nuked him back from the Great Beyond to be a half-dead short bus seat warmer.

Brock: Yeah, he was just this guy… guy in a butterfly suit who got in over his head. And I could see it in his eyes that if I let him get away this one time he’d never come back…but then, I also thought…y’know…Kill ‘im. What kind of way is that ta –
Shaman: Quanto! (Begins to Mumble)
Shaman’s Interpreter: Wuh – one time, I am in the Amazon, on my canoe, and I see, swim, the dolphin, the, uh, the beautiful dolphin, and I slip out of my canoe, and I grab her, this…fish…(Shaman mimes a penis penetrating a vagina, placing one finger through two looped together)…and, uh, then I fucked it… the fish!
Brock: The Hell’s that got to with anything?
Shaman: Kayho Hadaile!
Shaman’s Interpreter: Hot dolphin!
Brock: [suddenly realizing] You’re an idiot!

Dolphin: You see, Brock Samson, we’re all one. We all share the same need for shelter, warmth, fulfillment. The secret of happiness lies not in conquest, but in empathy. Em…Pa…Th- [The dolphin is speared in the back and ripped out from under Brock, then drawn up into the belly button of what appears to be a very large and very naked woman, though her face is obscured] Brock: Wooooaaah. Better dolphin!
[The ‘Woman’ Leans forward, revealing ‘Her’ true face] Col. Hunter Gathers: Samson!!
Brock: Hunter?!
Hunter: What is all this namby-pamby feel bad about good wet work bullshit?! You’re beyond good and evil, Superman! You work for the government.
Brock: What about uhhh, humanity and empathy and all that garbage?
Hunter: Who cares? You’re going to special ops heaven.
Brock: Really?
Hunter: Really! And it’s god damned great! [He flies upwards, clutching Brock to him] The G-Man Valhalla! There’s trim and guns everywhere. And we eat steak flavored clouds and poop secrets!
Brock: [Hugging one of Hunter’s gigantic Breasts] But you’re not even dead. You’re a woman!
Hunter: And you’re a tool, boy, a tool! Built for a single purpose by the United States of shut your third god damned eye for a good fucking reason! You can’t teach a hammer to love nails, son. That dog don’t hunt!
[Brock awakens] Brock: DON’T! HUNT!

[The Groovy Gang are fleeing Venturestein when they run into Brock] Ted: NO! Another one!
Brock: DON’T HUNT!
Ted: Not so fast, los—[Brock grabs his arm] Don’t shoot me!
Sonny: Mine is the sword of Michael! [the gun fires, shooting Sonny] I’m bleeding all over!
[Brock head butts Ted, killing him] Sonny: [dying] I’m so cold, man…I’m so fuckin’ cold.

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