The Suite Life on Deck

Ugh! Ew!

Wow, slow night.

Are you as bored as I am?

I was as bored as you.

Then you showed up and now I'm even more bored.

The most fun I've had all night

was cleaning out the lint trap in the laundry room.

Wow.

Next time, can I watch?

Europe is to the left.

Things just got slightly less boring.

That was awesome!

- We have to go tell Mr. Moseby. - Are you kidding?

He didn't even believe me when I told him the men's room is out of soap.

Maybe because you never use soap.

- Now let's get out of here. - Gentlemen.

I'm afraid I can't let you go after what you've just seen.

I didn't see a thing. I was too busy tying my shoe.

I was helping him.

No, really. The loops confuse him.

So we won't say a thing. But just between us, are you a spy?

Yes, I work for the NSA.

My name is Smith, James Smith.

But you can call me Smitty or J-dog.

Okay, J-dog. Well, clearly you have a license to kill

or at least a learner's permit. So we'll just be on our way. Cheerio.

- Hold it! - Aah! A laser pen!

No, it's just a pen.

I need you both to sign this confidentiality agreement.

Okie-doke.

Oh, wait, right here it says, "in the event of a dispute,

an arbiter shall be chosen by a third party... ".

It may just be a regular pen, but I could still jab you with it.

"Cody Martin."

Ooh, Mr. Smith, that prune whiz went bad weeks ago.

Don't worry. I'm sure it's part of his spy training

to become impervious to any potentially poisonous substance.

True. Unfortunately, I was absent that day.

I was... bathroom!

That's the ladies restroom.

Don't care!

Mr. Moseby, there's a spy on the ship.

And he got rid of another spy by tossing him overboard.

But don't tell him we told you because we signed our names

to a confidentiality agreement.

- Actually, I signed Mr. Moseby's name. - Good thinking.

A spy, huh? Is this like the time you were being chased by a leprechaun?

- You have to admit that guy was short. - And green.

He was a seasick little person.

How do you explain the pot of gold?

He was delivering London's allowance.

But that has nothing to do with this.

Zip it. Just go away.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a real problem to deal with on the lido deck.

Someone spotted a unicorn.

It's agent Smith.

He's in my cabin and he wants to talk to us.

Well, how do you know it's really from a spy?

Because it says, "this message will self-destruct in five seconds."

That's ridiculous.

There's no way he can make a text message explo...

I still don't think we should go meet this guy.

Come on, there's nothing to be scared of.

I told you that outfit was ugly.

Hey, guys. What's going on?

Nothing.

He's lying.

Why would you say that?

When he lies, his nose crinkles. Watch.

Cody, how tall are you?

5'11".

I rest my case.

Okay, it's settled. Cody's a short liar. Let's go!

Cody, I can't believe this.

We're in a committed relationship and you're keeping secrets from me?

You should so break up with him.

Put it in an e-mail. We gotta go.

Bailey, you and I have no secrets.

I'm an open book. I'll tell you anything you wanna know.

So what are you doing?

Going to Zack's room for a top secret meeting with an international spy.

Fine, don't tell me.

But my nose didn't even crinkle.

She's so gonna break up with you.

He's not here. See you later.

Sounds like he's roughing somebody up.

Probably someone who broke their confidentiality agreement.

Whoa! What are you doing in there, raising ponies?

I have survived killer agents,

ninja assassins and even a penguin with a machine gun.

But you two boys brought me to my knees with one bad prune whiz.

Don't hurt me with your super spy poison spray!

It's air freshener.

Still, stop. The chlorofluorocarbons are bad for the environment.

What I released in there is worse for the environment.

He's got a point.

Look, I can't get more than five feet away from this toilet.

And by the way, you have an excellent selection of comic books.

Thanks. Reading is my passion.

Anyway, I need you to go to the party in the piano lounge tonight

and rendezvous with my contact... red finger.

Ooh, cool code name.

Is she a former Soviet spy?

No, she jammer her finger in a door. It turned bright red and stayed that way.

I need you to get a microchip from her.

- What's on the microchip? - None of your beeswax.

Suffice to say, it could save mankind.

We're on it. We're great at being sneaky.

I'm not, and I'm not doing it.

You'll do it or I'll...

I'll tell you what I'll do when I get back. Oh!

Cody.

This is the opportunity of a lifetime.

To do what, die?

No, to have an adventure.

Look, all your life you've played it safe.

You didn't take the training wheels off your bike until you were 13.

And even when you did,

you only took one off so you could only turn right.

You wore your retainer for three years

after the orthodontist said you can stop.

You still take baths because you're afraid you're gonna slip in the shower.

Live, Cody, live!

You know what? You're right.

Tonight I shower. But I'm not becoming a spy.

- You'll be Bailey's hero. - I'm in.

- He's in. - Good.

Okay, when you approach red finger, you must say this exactly.

"What crew threw the true blue goo that flew into my shoe?"

Memorize those words and then eat the paper.

Yeah, I'd rather not.

Nougat!

Okay, remember, we're looking for a woman with a red finger.

Ow!

What are you doing here?

I do not remember hiring you to work this party.

Yes, you did.

No, I didn't.

We're spies, not Jedi.

Oh, that busboy just shoved a shrimp into his pocket.

I saw that, francois.

I don't see red finger.

We have to get these women to show us their hands.

Nougat!

I have an idea.

London, we need your help.

- I don't help people. - London.

You will help us.

I will help you.

I am madame Tipton, the fortuneteller.

And let me tell you, I'm worth a fortune.

Now take off your gloves so she can read your palms.

- What do you see? - Skin like a crocodile.

I see a lot of moisturizer in your future.

It's not her.

Hey, want your fortune read?

All right, here.

Just trying to speed up the process.

It's not red finger. Move on.

She sees a journey in your future.

Wow, I am good!

We're never going to find her.

I'd like my palm read.

Oh, good. Then it'll match your finger.

It's her.

Excuse me, miss.

Can we talk to you for a second?

No.

Say the code. Where's the code?

There you are.

You said you had to write a paper for school,

and instead you're here partying?

I'm not partying.

I'm on a top secret mission that could save the world.

I haven't heard a lie that big

since Zieg Miller said his pig was a piano virtuoso.

I mean, he was okay. I wouldn't call him a virtuoso.

Hello, red finger's leaving. Come on.

Oh! Let me tell you your fortune.

- What? - Your life line.

- What, is it short? - No, long.

I was hoping to get my own room.

Um, "what crew threw the true blue goo

that flew in the... kangaroo poo?"

I think it's "kazoo."

I think I'm leaving.

Look, it's been a long day.

This tux is itchy, I had to hire a fortuneteller,

and they're all out of those miniature hot dogs.

Are you the babe with the microchip or not?

Shh!

Fine, I'm red finger.