Underdogs

Hello there.

I'm Ryan Reynolds.

Yeah, hmm.

That Ryan Reynolds.

I'm a film actor,

occasionally I dabble in television

and other industries.

I'm also a father.

But I'm ready to move on from all of that crap.

So what's next?

Wildlife, that's what.

Nope, not these blowhards.

They don't need my help.

I'm here for these guys.

Nature's benchwarmers.

I'm talking grade-A freaks

and their freakin' bizarre, weird, freakshow lives.

Get ready for the Underdogs.

These guys are the grossest, weirdest...

...the most unlikely stars in the great movie of life.

Now it's their time to shine.

Wherever there is blatant mischief,

wherever there is abject cowardice,

wherever there is unbearable sexual tension...

...that's where you'll find the underdogs.

You tell 'em, Green Day.

I'm Ryan Reynolds.

And I endorse these weirdoes.

Welcome to my home.

It's a busy temple overlooking the Indian Ocean.

And a beautiful setting for an ingenious hustle.

This is me, a long-tailed macaque.

Some say I sound like Ryan Reynolds.

I don't know why. I've never been to Canada.

This is the story of how underdogs like us can get ahead

through slightly underhanded means.

Generalized scheming.

Thievery.

Also, maybe just a little bit of light, uh, racketeering.

Not sure what I mean?

Take it away, guys.

Ah!

They say crime doesn't pay.

Sure does in our case.

The real prize is food,

which we figured out we're given in exchange

for returning the tourists' trashy-ass belongings.

Nice work.

But petty theft, that's just the beginning.

There are underdogs out there

with a whole host of special skills,

and I've got a job in mind that calls for the best of the best.

I'm building a crack team of devious animals,

drawn from all over the world.

Each one a hustler.

Each one a master of their own unique con.

Experts when working alone.

But put 'em all together and I've got the lineup I need

to pull off the perfect heist.

First up, we need someone who knows how to go undercover.

Deep undercover.

But there's no one here.

Or is there?

Oh, you've just been fooled by the hairy frogfish.

His flamboyant frills aren't my idea of subtle,

but down here, they allow him to blend in perfectly

while he goes hunting.

The change of current has just blown his cover.

That's bad news for a guy

who relies on the element of surprise.

But you don't live life as a bottom-feeder

without having a few tricks up your sleeve.

Including walking.

That's not bad for a fish, huh?

But with this guy, I've learned to expect the unexpected.

Now he just has to motor his boat to a new location,

his next big target.

This place looks pretty good.

Plenty of prey in these dark crevices.

Reminds me of that airport bathroom in Minneapolis.

Now, watch the master at work.

A quick disguise change

that takes...

two... whole... weeks.

Two, what, two full business weeks?!

Ooph.

Wow.

Okay, so he's not the most efficient criminal on Earth.

But you give him a mere 336 hours,

and he has transformed from a mid-winter pale

to a late summer dark and deadly.

That's perfect for blending in to his new hunting grounds.

And just like my Internet browser,

incognito mode, baby.

Wow.

Now all he's gotta do is set the bait and reel 'em in.

What's the bait?

Oh, you know, it's a bit of modified fin

that looks like a worm.

It's a little gamey, but, uh, it's also, you know, chewy,

impossible to digest.

Oh, that poor unsuspecting fish.

He will be missed.

Gone, in a few thousandths of a second.

And that was just the appetizer.

There's the main course.

And there's dessert.

And besides a little indigestion,

he's the perfect hidden hitman.

And a must for my lineup.

Sadly, with my international notoriety,

I've no hope of going incognito.

But you do not get the job done with undercover work alone.

We need intel, and lots of it.

Most animals out there

subscribe to the same tired deal we all do.

You work hard, you try your best,

follow the rules, and you'll be rewarded.

Well, we hustlers have a word

for animals who fall for those instructions:

suckers.

Marks.

Targets.

Morons.

These warblers are living the all-American dream.

Teeny, tiny white picket fences,

working day in and day out to put food on the table

so their 2.5 kids can grow big and strong.

And deeply resentful of their parents

and all their hard work.

Yes, those little won't understand it

till they have their own kids.

But one of their little ones is turning out to be

much bigger than the others.

To understand why that is,

we need to rewind the tape a little.

For weeks, these hardworking warblers

have been under surveillance.

By a master of the secret sting operation.

That's right, it's a cowbird.

She's been secretly staking out the nest,

keeping track of the number of eggs as they're laid.

And then, while the warblers go off warbling,

or whatever it is that warblers do all day...

...the cowbird comes by to drop off a very special package.

If she's caught, her plan will be ruined.

But my colleague has an unusual talent,

perfect for an aviary infiltrator.

She can lay an egg in under seven seconds.

Boom.

Special delivery, suckers.

This inexplicably giant extra egg might seem pretty obvious,

but these warblers are dumb as a bag of bricks.

How do you still exist?

Sorry.

To these literal birdbrains, it checks out.

But don't go thinking that this is a one-off, no, no, no, no.

This is just a tiny part of a whole empire of espionage.

Over one season, the cowbird gathers data on multiple nests,