Mystery Team

Hi! My name's Buddy.

I'm your new neighbor.

Hi. I'm Alan.

Mighty nice house

you got here, Alan.

Mind if I take a look around?

Uh, s-sure.

Great!

Grownups, houses.

Oh, this is great.

[gasp]

Decorative pillows?

What is this,

the White House?

I don't know.

The door's locked.

McGinty, you clever dog.

I guess I'll just have

to break it down, then,

with brute force! Ow!

Oh.

The window's open.

I probably knocked it open

when I hit the door

with my shoulder.

Now, where's this

Old Man McGinty

I keep hearing about?

You mean my father?

He's asleep.

Oh, really?

Because I heard

evil never sleeps.

What was that?

Oh, nothing. I was just

admiring your bulbs.

It's like Buckingham Palace

in here.

Uh, let's walk.

Okay.

Let's search for clues.

What's there to do in town?

I don't know

because I just moved here.

I haven't lived here

in years.

I just came back

to help my father.

With what, the house?

The yard?

The murders?

What? Did you say murders?

Whoa! Paper plates. Ha ha!

You expecting the pope?

Very classy.

How old are you anyway?

You look kind of young

to be buying a house.

Can I have that in writing?

Ha ha ha!

Oh, we are laughing.

[heavy breathing]

Mystery Team?

Mystery Team.

[breathing heavily]

What's my job?

Dish...washer.

[screaming]

Aah!

Aah!

Hey! Hey! What the hell

is going on here?

Oh, boys! Boys!

What are you doing in here?

I am so sorry.

These are my sons--

Benny and The Jets.

I expected this from you,

Benny, but, The Jets!

I'm calling the police.

No need.

We're the Mystery Team.

Oh.

My father told me

about you guys.

Listen, I know

when you were younger,

my father

was probably cranky

and liked to be left alone,

but he is pretty sick now,

and I'm taking care of him.

This isn't some spooky house.

There are no dastardly plans.

Just a sick old man

on a respirator.

So could you please

leave my father

to pass in peace?

Sorry.

Sorry.

Your father

was a great man.

[clatter]

[shouting]

Why'd you do it,

McGint--?

Sorry.

[ringing]

Jason, Jason, come quick!

There's a mystery afoot!

Somebody stuck their fingers

in Mrs. Kimmel's pie.

What kind of pie, Jamie?

Boysenberry!

[beep]

Duncan. Come in, Duncan.

Duncan here.

We got a code 44

at Mrs. Kimmel's house.

Affirmative.

[bones cracking]

Ohh.

Yeah, I did that.

Charlie. Come in, Charlie.

Code 44

at Mrs. Kimmel's house.

I'm on it.

Still warm.

That means it was hot

when someone stuck

their finger in there.

There's only one kid

crooked enough to do this

but young enough not to know

it would burn you.

Eric McDonald.

Joshua McDonald.

Eric McDonald.

Eric McDonald.

And we know his spot.

[high voice]

Hi. My name's Sammy.

I'm new to this school.

Know where I can get

some pie around here?

Ah, f***, the Mystery Team.

Ha ha!

I gotcha.

Of course you got me,

motherf***er.

You're 18.

If any teachers

ask where Eric went,

tell them three grownups

took him off the playground

to teach him a lesson

about sticking his finger

in things.

Eww.

Yep. Boysenberry,

all right.

Only one question

remains, Eric.

Why'd you do it?

I'll bet you he gets his kicks

giving old ladies

the heebie-jeebies.

Hell, no. I wanted to see

if it felt like p*ssy,

like in that movie.

Yeah.

Well,

you learned your lesson,

so try and stay on the straight

and narrow this time.

Okay?

He's a good kid at heart.

Faggots.

Hey, Dad, can I

have the car keys?

[car alarm beeps]

There go three virgins.

[bell rings]

Excuse me. Is this

the principal's office?

Come in, Jason.

Oh, no, no, no, no.

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