Hello?
Whew.
Ooh. Whew.
Ugh.
Oh.
Beemo?
Beemo, are you okay?
What did you do?
It wasn't me.
I didn't do noth... do noth... do nothing.
Come on, Beemo, we gotta get you to the hospital or whatevs.
No, no. I am fine. Really.
Oh, yes. Okay.
Please take me to get fixed.
I need... need... need... need to get
new core system drivers installed.
We can get them at the Mo Factory
in the Badlands where I was born.
The Mo Factory?
Yeah, I'm programmed with emergency instructions
to get there.
Come on, there's no... no... no...
no... no time to lo... lo...
lo... lo... lose.
Okay, now straight down this place.
Okay, now take a ri... ri... ri... ri...
left up here.
The instructions also say that damaged Mos
get a full memory wipe before repairs.
Don't let on what happened,
or all the years we've spent together...
they'll vanish like tears in the oven.
Tears in the oven?
But memories are real, real cruesch.
Yeah, no fooling.
Oh, wait, there's more.
It says here only Mos are allowed in the factory.
Wait, what?
Oh, that's just great.
Hey, hey, don't worry, buddy.
We're Finn and Jake, remember?
Or should I say, "Finn and JMo"?
Wow.
Hey, Beemo, check this out, too.
Meet FMo.
Finn, you dumb... you dumb...
you dumb... you da man.
This is gonna be a snap!
Hello, there.
Greetings and welcome to Mo-Co.
I am Deemo. Please state your business.
Hey, there, Deemo. I am J-Mo.
And I'm F-Mo.
Greetings, J-Mo.
F-Mo, you look ridiculous.
Are you damaged? Are you in need of repair?
Yes, absolutely. Thanks, Deemo.
I busted my core system drivers,
and now I need new ones.
Fantastic.
Okay, please get ready for your total personality wipe.
Oh, right, right. Uh, right.
I mean, no.
I'm just here for, uh, nostalgic purposes.
Ah, yes.
47.3% of Mos eventually return to the factory
for assorted sentimental biz.
Please step 100% on the ultratram
for your complimentary tour.
- Greetings. - Whoa!
We're now passing over the famous factory floor,
birthplace of each and every Mo.
Behold the gleaming machinery,
teeming wild with the throes of real creation.
From this unlikely chaos emerges every shiny, new Mo.
But nothing's moving down there.
It's all shut down. What happened to this place?
I'm sorry, I'm just a Tram-Mo.
I'm not programmed to understand that question.
Also, you're just a J-Mo.
You're not programmed to ask that question.
Uh, what question?
That question.
I'm serious.
Anyway, Mo-Co was founded over 1,000 years ago
by Moseph Mastro Giovanni,
a sad and gentle man,
beloved only by those he built to belove him.
On your left, you'll see the core system driver
installation port bay...
Finn! Finn! That's it!
That's where the driver ports are!
I know. I heard. Hup!
What? Are you crazy? Get back here!
Hurry, Finn.
I think he's calling the police or something.
None of these ports fit right.
"E,"D,"C"... Where's the "B" port?
Intruder spotted!
Prepare to vaporize!
Vaporize!
Cease fire!
No intruders spotted.
Vaporization complete.
Um, but what if they slipped past us,
sir, in all that smoke?
All right, everyone, about-face.
Does anybody see the intruders now?
Like I said, vaporization complete.
Now, let's head back to base.
It's doughnut o'clock.
Man, how about those goofs, huh?
Trying to mess with our drivers.
Yeah, you know the world these days... all goofs.
Hey, you toss me one of them 'nuts?
Ahh. Yeah, hey, speaking of goofs,
haven't seen S-Mo 5681 lately.
Man, that goof.
Yeah, I hate that goof.
You ever notice goofs always asking how you're doing?
What is that? "Uh, yeah, I'm fine."
Yeah, 100%.
Oh, hey, what are you doing over there by yourself?
Uh... oh, uh, uh, I'm sad.
Oh, yeah, yanno, we've all been there.
So, anyways, how's your goofy wife doing?
Pretty goofy.
Beemo, how are you doing?
Get me close to that guy's port.
I can hack into his computer
and find where my driver port is.
We got to hustle.
Yeah, pretty good, I guess.
I prefer something yeastier.
The wife's always giving me grief about it,
but, I mean, what am I, decent?
Zomp!
Hey, what are you two goofs doing... goofing?
Dang, man, how deep does this place go?
Down, right, left, down, corkscrew, down.
- Psych! - Hey, whoa!
Down that grate.
Stop right there!
You, freeze!
Hey!
Only Mos are allowed in the facility 1,000%!
Get off of my tram!
Cram your tram!
Womp!
Hang in there, Beemo.
Hey, Jake, can this thing go any fast...
Aah! Whoa!
Shoot, it's the fuzz!
Hit 'em again!
Holy!
Finn, how are we getting to Beemo's driver port?
Uh, turn right!
Dog it, they're still behind us!
Turn left!
Turn corkscrew!
Now go down!
There's the driver port!
Ow.
Too spicy.
My bod.
Non-Mos are forbidden in this facility!
I am not Non-Mo.
I am... Beemo!
Beemo.
"Beemo"? Did I hear "Beemo"?
Wait. What's up?
Hey, I'm Moe.
Don't worry. My legs don't work.
You're Moe? Wait, are you human, too?
My skin's human.
Dude, how old are you?
Hey, come on, now.
It is Beemo.
Looks like there's some software problems.
Hmm.
So... you made Beemo?
Hey, you're not gonna reset
our friend's personality, are you?
Huh? What? No.
Beemo's one-of-a-kind.
I built Beemo to take care of my son.
Yeah... oh, oh, thank you.
But I guess I never ended up dating any women.
So, that's that.
I sent Beemo off into the world alone,
hoping...
He could find a fam...
A family of his own.
And maybe even find
somebody else's little boy to take care of.
Aww.
Oh, there's that back-up driver disk.
Thank you.
That ought to done it.
I must have built, what, like, a million Mos,
but Beemo is very, very special.
I built Beemo to understand fun and how to play.
You see, I made Beemo to be more.
Oh, are you my grandpoop?
No, I'm just your poop.
Wait, did you say you built a million robots?
Yeah. All we saw was that tram jerk
and all those jerky security jerks.
Oh, those were just the surface jerks.
Uh, up, please.
Yep!
Whoops. Oh.
Kid, come over here.
Beemo, say hello to your family.
Hello, family.
Hi, Beemo!
- This party is so crazy! - Ripped By mstoll