MacGruber

- Come on, pick up! Pick up! Pick up!

Oh, come on!

This is Kernst.

Major, it's MacGruber.

You seeing this Ecuador shit?

- You son of a bitch! - What?

- Oh, cut the crap. You played me.

- Sir, the only thing I've been playing

is with Vicki's beautiful breasts and vagina

for ten straight hours, minus bathroom breaks.

So you mind telling me what the hell you're talking about?

You sold us down the river.

This raid on Queeth's compound

was supposed to be the end of this thing.

You said Brimstone was contained.

Uh, yeah, I thought it was.

But clearly someone is still behind it!

Someone terribly evil. Someone who has to be stopped.

- Oh, yeah. I'm talking to him right now.

- Oh, thank God. Okay, Kernst, listen carefully.

You have to keep him on the line

and trace that telephone call

so we can find out exactly where--

- MacGruber! I'm talking about you.

Oh, you're fucking insane!

- Special agents in Ecuador found DNA

on a dispersal device,

and it's a presumptive match to you!

- Come on, this is clearly a frame job.

Queeth's final fuck you from the grave.

You gotta believe me. I'm one of the good guys.

I got nothing to hide.

- If that's true, then come turn yourself in right now.

You know I can't do that.

- Well, I guess we both know how this is gonna end.

- Yeah, with you putting a medal around my neck.

Or a bullet in your head.

Tomato, "toe-ma-toe."

- MacGruber, I'ma give you one last chance.

Every law enforcement officer in the country

will be looking for you,

and the orders will be shoot to kill.

- Major, Queeth may be dead now,

but someone is keeping his plan in motion,

and you're seriously asking me to stand down?

I'm not asking.

- Well, in that case, catch me if you can.

Put it up.

May I have this dance?

Aww.

Oh, watch out for the gingerbread house.

Spent all morning on that thing.

Sorry.

Whoops.

God, I love our life.

- Well, that's good to hear because I have some big news.

Dixon, I'm pregnant.

- We're all gonna die! We're all gonna die!

- Oh, geez, thank God you're still alive!

We are so fucked!

- Aww, little one, don't cry. Everything's okay.

- Jesus Christ, what are you guys doing here?

- Haven't you been watching the news?

The poisonous cloud over Ecuador?

Somehow Queeth's plan is still on.

That's impossible.

- Tens of thousands of people have been reported dead,

and we can only assume

that number is going to rise in the coming days.

- Holy shit. But I thought Queeth was dead!

I thought this was over.

- Checkers, the only thing that's over

is the amount that this motherfucker is not over.

I mean, we are in grave danger here!

Ooh, can I play with your baby?

- Authorities are looking for this man--

former military officer MacGruber.

- Oh, look, there's Uncle MacGruber.

Jesus, you're wanted?

- Oh, yeah, super wanted. Like, shoot to kill.

Hell, I mean, for all I know,

they could have their scopes on me right now.

Oh, look at that!

Is that your little playset, bud?

Huh? Oh, that's so cute. I'm jealous, and I'm an adult.

Huh? Is that--

Oh, what? No. Aww.

Now, let's focus up. We got a terrorist to catch.

Now, I won't go as far as to say that

this is a "Mission: Impossible,"

but at the very least, it's a "Mission: Very Hard."

No clues, no leads.

Hell, everyone we knew

who was involved with the plan is dead now.

Well...not everyone.

- Everyone got their covers down?

- Uh-huh. - Yeah.

- Look, these are actual IDs I stole from the NSA,

and I just tweaked them a little bit.

So don't worry. We got this.

ID, please.

So your name is Sharold?

- Of course my name is Sharold. Sharold Kernst.

Interesting name.

It's a family name.

My grandmother was Sharold, her mother and her aunts,

and most of her sisters, and some of her sons.

Goes for all genders, really, Sharold.

Something wrong?

No, it's just weird.

Both the S and the H are capitalized.

Yeah.

Uh, That's because it's S. Harold Kernst.

And the S stands for Sharold?

Stands for Sharold.

- So your name is Sharold Harold Kernst.

Yep.

- And here you go, Colonel Jebblidoh.

Jebblidoo. Matias Jebblidoo.

Sure.

And Private Fukk?

Mm-hmm.

- Yep, Private David Fukk, Wisconsin's own.

- Oh, I'm from Madison. - Get out of town.

That's so fun!

Private Fukk, isn't that so fun?

From Madison. Tell him all about

the different Wisconsin trivia that you know.

- Well, I guess we should be leaving, so.

- Well, I don't know. We got a little bit of time.

- Bye. - Say goodbye, Private Fukk.

- Bye. - Bye.

- Hey, Vic. - Yeah?

- You sure you don't need me in there?

- Thanks, but I think this is something

I need to do on my own.

I understand.

Hey. Sharold.

- Yeah? - Livestrong.

- Okay. - Come on, give me five.

Yeah.

Open 104!

Hello, Barrett.

Victoria.

Oh, shut up-a you face!

Put 'em on.

- Honey-- - Kee-yah!

I am not your honey, honey. Not anymore.

And you are not my king.

So are we gonna do things the hard way?

Or...

The harder way?

It's your choice.

General.

- Just tell me you once loved me.

I'll tell you whatever you want to know.

Sorry.

I don't negotiate with terrorists.

Queeth and his men are dead,

but the plan is still proceeding.

Tell me what you know!

Goll dar, Barrett!

Who is executing Queeth's goll dar plan?

- I don't know! - That's a fib!

You're fibbing! - I'm not fibbing.

I swear to you, I'm not fibbing!

Okay.

Looks like I'm gonna have to take off the training wheels,

and sit down real hard on the seat.

- You know what that is? I think you do.

Yeah, I think you know what that is.

Yeah. That's your old pal, MacGruber.

No!

No!

- Millions of lives are at stake, Barrett.

Tell me what you know! - I don't know anything.

Tell me what you know!

Tell me what you know! What do you know?

- Okay! Okay! I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything!

Thank you.

Twenty years ago,

there was someone working on the inside with Queeth.

I never knew who it was.

I only knew them as the Architect.

But they controlled everything. Everything.

- Tell me more about this "The Architect."

I don't know much.

They covered their tracks very well,

so I was never able to piece the whole thing together.

But what I do know is in my computer,

locked away in the NSA.

Sorry. Wish I could tell you more.

Apology not accepted.

Vicki, please, don't go.

Vicki, please.

Goodbye, Barrett.

Victoria.

Victoria!

Victoria!

- Files you requested, sir. - This everything?