Doom Patrol

Previously on Doom Patrol...

Who wants pancakes?

Cliff!

You told me my daughter was dead!

- I was trying to protect you. - By lying?

Paraguay was an eye-opener. All that carnage.

Cliff, you're a fucking monster.

It's not your fault, Elliot.

You should've let me die.

I went with my gut, and my gut says you deserve a break.

- Shit! Shit. - What is that?

Don't! No, it's an emergency trigger!

- No, no, no. Don't! - What?

- If you press it, my dad... - It'll send an SOS.

This is for your own good.

Grid. Stop, no.

I have one more task for you.

What the fuck is the Doom Patrol?

Shit.

Ms. Farr, Mr. Bloom will see you now.

That only took an hour and a half.

There she is.

Come here, gorgeous.

Oh. What can my girl get you? Coffee? Tea?

- Anything at all? - I'm fine, Sydney. Thank you.

That's all, hon.

Sit.

So, how are you, kiddo?

I'm hungry, Syd.

I want the love-interest role in your new wrestling picture.

You know I'd be perfect for it.

Boy, you just get right to it, don't you?

Some girls may need to play little games. I'm a woman.

I know what I want, and I'm not afraid to say it.

So I've heard.

Scoop around town is you're nothing but trouble.

Moody, abusive,

and there's not a makeup girl in the burg who'll touch you.

Besides, the director has his heart set on Mary Lacy.

Moon-eyed Mary? Please.

You need a hit bad, Syd, and I need a job.

So what do you say we help each other out, hmm?

You wanna talk turkey?

You don't need help.

What you need is a miracle.

Because the name "Rita Farr" hasn't put a butt in the seat in a dog's age.

Concrete shines brighter than your star...

My sweet.

Hmm.

Atta girl.

Show me how hungry you are.

Hmm.

Syd?

Syd?

Uh...

Mr. Bloom?

The bastard had a heart attack.

You were never here.

Get it? Go.

I don't think he's coming back.

"This user's profile is only viewable by friends."

What about her fucking father?

Jane?

I made you some, "We kicked the apocalypse's ass" sandwiches.

Hi.

I was wondering, if you're not busy or anything...

I'm trying to look at my kid's online thing, and...

I could use some help.

I made 'em just the way Baby Doll likes...

Does that mean you're still mad at me?

Hello?

I'm not cleaning this shit up.

Fine, I'll do it!

But just this fucking once. You hear me, Jane?

Jane!

Fuck!

No!

No! N-O. N-O. I don't want you to go.

It's only for a few days, Baby Doll.

It's seven.

Seven is a whole week!

You'll miss pancake day.

But what if...

I promise to have pancakes at 9:00 a.m. tomorrow,

and think of you.

And you have pancakes at the same time

and think of me, hmm?

No.

No, you're trying to trick me.

It won't be the same.

You're telling me.

For once, I'm going to be able to enjoy my breakfast without

a certain little piggy...

Snarfing up all the syrup.

Mmm?

But what if you start liking your new friends more than you like me?

That's impossible.

For one thing, they have a hopelessly silly name.

"The Doom Patrol."

I mean, really. Come on.

And for another, they don't like pancakes.

You gonna try and glue 'em back on?

No need.

Fucking A.

Guess it was a good day to be a robot boy.

Am I right?

How do I see my kid's Facehole?

Create a profile, send her a friend request, and wait for her not to accept it.

I was thinking you could stick a...

cyber finger in it, jiggle the handle,

and unlock it for me.

First of all, none of what you just said makes sense.

And if you're asking me to hack into it for you... No!

I saved your life, and you can't do this one lousy thing for me?

Actually, you put me in safety mode when you pushed my reset button.

And now my cyber fingers won't jiggle unless my dad turns it off.

You're locked out of your own brain? That's fucked up.

I thought I was fucked up.

Hey, Siri, what's the Doom Patrol?

Will you please stop doing that?

His shit's busted right now, Jane.

"Doom Patrol"? Never heard of them. Why do you ask?

Mr. Nobody

kind of asked me to find them.

How come you're helping her with her thing, but not mine?

Feel free to take it personally.

Here we go. Okay, Doom Patrol.

A minor superhero team active from the early to late '50s.

And then they just... dropped off the scene.

They're so... smiley.

Look more like a creepy sex cult than superheroes.

What happened to them?

- Doesn't say. - Two words...

tracksuits, and Kool-Aid.

Why are you looking at pictures of the Doom Patrol?

You've heard of them?

If you must know, I had a brief love affair with Mento.

Mento.

Steve Dayton?

The fifth richest man in America...

in 1955.

The guy with the salad spinner on his head?

It's a psionic amplifier.

It enhances his natural psychic abilities.

Our liaison ended poorly and I don't wish to speak of it.

No one cares. Start talking.

Well, I never met the others.

Niles only introduced me to Steve.

How did Niles know him?

I have no idea.

Did you ever ask this dude anything about himself?

Anything at all?

It was a very introspective time in my life.

Do you have any idea why Mr. Nobody would point us in the direction of Doom Patrol?

Mr. Nobody wants you to find them.

And you're doing it.

You got a problem with that?

What, with you doing precisely what the bad guy told you to do?

No. Why would we have a problem with that?

I didn't hear you complaining when he helped us stop the Decreator.

By all means, let's trust the degenerate who kidnapped Niles

and shoved an entire town up a donkey's ass.

Yeah. Unfortunately, I don't give a fuck what you think.

We're got nothing else to go on right now.

You're my in and you're my backup.

So shut your assholes because we're doing this.

Please, God, don't let me puke in my bandages.

What?

- Where... - We're here.

Jane, I want no part of this nonsense.

Have Flit take me back this instant.

Hang on, let me tell her.

Uh-huh? Uh-huh?

Yeah, Flit says to fuck yourself in the face.

We're not leaving here till we find the Doom Patrol.

Hey.

Hey, you guys are...

Trust me,

when I tell you ladies you do not wanna fuck with me.

Remember, it's always better to subdue your opponent if you can.

What is this shit? A fucked-up Rushmore?

Deadly force should be your last resort.

Okay...

Okay, kids! You guys wanna see what your teachers look like

on the inside?

Jane.

Where is Niles?

I was just gonna ask you the same goddamn thing.

Magnificent.

How long did it take?

Didn't think to time it. Sorry.

My arm cannon overheated.

What I wanna know is why you deployed it in the first place.

To get Niles back.

The man who took him, Mr. Nobody, he was right here.

I'm sorry, who?

Mr. Nobody. He's a member of the Brotherhood of Evil.

He's bad news, Pops.

He should be on the JLA watchlist or something.

The JLA doesn't tend to overlook the credible threats.