Axe Cop

- There he is! - What are you doing?

Where are you taking me?

Adolf Hitler!

I had a feeling you were behind all this.

Of course you did, Chemist M.

You are the smartest man in the world.

Yes, I am.

But whatever you want from me, forget it.

- I'll never help you! - Don't help me.

Help her!

Daddy!

Isabella! No!

Now, Chemist M,

You are going to build me an evil army...

An evil unstoppable army...

An evil unstoppable army... of zombies!

On zombie island

In space!

One day, at the scene of the fire

The cop found the perfect axe.

That was the day he became Axe Cop!

So he had tryouts and hired a partner.

I will chop your heads off!

I understand we returned it late,

but can you just waive the late fee this time?

- I'm not saying it's your fault, ma'am.

I am not raising my voice.

I'm trying to talk over you

Because you won't stop talking!

Axe Cop, can you get that?

I'm on the phone with the dinosaur-horn store.

Axe Cop, what are you doing?

I'm imagining myself with different hair

and mustache styles.

I'll have to call you back.

Oh, hi. Uh, can I help you?

Are you the one they call Axe Cop?

No, I am. What's wrong with your voice?

Nothing. Everyone from London, England, has to talk like this.

My name is Isabella M. My father was--

Chemist M, the smartest man in the world.

He was kidnapped by nazis and no one,

not even me, knows where they took him.

- It's a mystery. - Was a mystery.

I recently uncovered these lost Nazi files.

They contain my father's exact location.

Your father is on zombie island in space?

And even if there is...

only the slightest chance he's still alive,

I have to know for sure. Axe Cop, will you help me?

Only if you tell me...

how you think I'd look with a mohawk

and a handlebar mustache?

Hmmm.

Honestly, I think you'd look better with crazy pizza hair

and a super curly beard and mustache

- with a robot ghost inside. - That is correct.

Wexter!

Let's go.

How much longer?

10 minutes. 15 at the most.

Wrong. We're here.

What was that?

- Oh, thank you. - I'm married.

What the heck?

A jet-pack-wearing zombie!?

I'll chop your head off!

I love killing zombies.

Something's weird.

Zombies always fight me till I chop off their heads.

Come back here, zombies!

We're not safe here.

Let's hide in that dark cave.

Oh my goodness, it's father's laboratory!

This is father's laboratory!

It's just like the laboratory he had back at home.

Look at this! Now I'm no videologist,

but maybe this VHS tape can tell us

- what happened to your father. - Oh, ripping!

Daddy!

That's my daddy on the telly--

Which is what we call a television in London, England.

It's day 28.

Even though Adolf Hitler sent me here from London, England,

To create an evil zombie army, I have been working on a cure.

A secret potion that will turn zombies good.

My secret potion is almost complete.

All it needs is a bit of cinnamon.

Oh, bloody heck! No no no no!

- No-ooo! - Oh no!

My brilliant brain!

No...

Oh daddy.

Zombies are too stupid to build a giant

300-foot zombie robot on their own.

A bad guy must be controlling them--