Mr. Pickles

Previously on "Mr. Pickles"...

Mr. Pickles is evil.

You better have proof,

or I'm gonna put you in the loony bin.

Grandpa: I filmed evidence of Mr. Pickles' evil.

But then he forced me to dress up in a porno

with a bunch of sheriff robots.

Burn in hell, you dumb dog!

- Ow! - I thought you were a robot.

It's off to the loony bin with you.

But Mr. Pickles!

Come here, baby.

No. I'm sick of being the other woman.

But you're so much more important to me than Jill.

I want it to be just us.

Okay.

Jill, can you give us a minute?

Mm-hmm.

Hey, do hookers take credit?

Hooker? I'm a high-class whore, you jerk!

Hey, get back here, bitch!

How 'bout I pay you in black eyes!

No! Aah!

Thanks a lot, you stupid dog!

Tommy: Mr. Pickles!

Mr. Pickles!

Good boy!

S02E01 Mental Asylum

Sir, space trolls have the frog queen prisoner

under their space bridge.

Sounds like a job for Astronaut Dolphin Detective.

Of course secret societies control the TV!

The secret societies control your mind!

I don't belong here.

I'm not crazy.

- Hair?! - Get away from me.

Perhaps if I lobotomize you,

you'd no longer fear this evil dog.

Aren't lobotomies illegal?

Never mind that. Come, you have visitors.

- Grandpa! - Hey, everybody.

I've really missed you, Dad.

I haven't had anybody to talk to.

Well, no time to talk. Got to get to work.

Good to see you, Grandpa.

Guess who else misses you, Grandpa.

- Mr. Pickles! - Oh, no!

Well, he won't be playing with him anymore.

Grandpa's stuck in here now.

Oh.

You're right!

Guess I'm stuck in here.

- Oh. - Visiting time is over.

Bye!

But we just got here!

- Oh. - I miss Grandpa.

Hi!

I think I'm a tomato.

Great. Just fill out this voluntary admission form.

Come on, Tommy.

Hey, where are you going, Mr. Pickles?

You can't check yourself in.

Who would run Old Town?

Mr. Mayor?!

I didn't expect to hear about my proposal

until the town hall meeting.

Mr. Mayor?

Mr. Mayor?

Mr. Mayor!

I've been looking everywhere for you.

Come on. We have much to do.

There you are, Mr. Mayor. Come on.

Back off, people. The mayor is very busy.

And he'll see you as soon

as he's not very, very, very, very busy.

Here are the budgets for parks, sanitation,

the fire department, animal control.

Date this, stamp this, sign here,

and then it's time for some last-minute proposals!

Mr. Mayor?

There you are, my husband, the mayor.

Kissy, kissy? Hmm?

Oh. You dirty dog!

Oh!

Come on, girl. You do yours outside.

Oh. Now, Tommy, it's sad that Grandpa's gone.

But you and I can still talk.

- Oh. - Okay.

- I found this new recipe the other day. - Oh.

Tommy, I'd really like somebody to talk to.

- Beverly. - Eleanor!

How are you?

How do you think I am? My husband is the mayor.

Everybody's lining up to give him their last-minute proposals.

Oh. Could I give the mayor a proposal

to get my grandpa out of the mental asylum?

My husband, the mayor, has the power to approve anything.

Oh, boy!

I'm gonna go propose to the mayor.

Oh, Tommy.

Come, let's talk. I heard about your father.

Crazy!

Hey!

Hey, hey, hey! Whoo!

Triple jump! King him, Lou.

Yeah!

- Hair?! - Don't mind if I do!

Whoo, whoo, whoo! I'm free!

I'm safe from Mr. Pickles forever!

Whoo-hoo!

Hey! The secret societies are using us.

The TV, that's how they get to us.

I'm a tomato!

And I'm a fruit fly!

Wait!

Maybe I'm a fruit fly.

Wait a second. Something's wrong here.

There. Much better.

All right, we have some last-minute proposals!

Whoa!

One at a time!

I propose the legalization

of illegal trafficking of illegal machine guns.

My proposal is to make toenails the new currency of Old Town.

I propose a toast!