Transcripts - Fashion Victim
Global Justice Alliance

Transcripts - Fashion Victim

 

  Information
Episode Fashion Victim
Language English
Type Closed Captioning
Date Written October 22, 2007
Author WallaceB, Campy
Author Comments Not Available
Wordcount 3586
 

  Transcript

Ron: Whoa Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa! So what are the chances that they're not after us?
Kim: They're black helicopters, Ron. They're always after us. Head for the fort!
Ron: I'm on it. Rufus, wingman me.
Rufus: Okay!
Kim: Nice color, wrong tube. (Applies lipstick) Mmm. (Lasers door open) Take it away,Wade.
Wade: I gotcha.
Ron: Aaah! Oh ho! Nice catch, KP!
Dementor: Fräulein Possible.
Ron: Und sidekick.
Rufus: And wingman!
Kim: Free the Duke, Dementor.
Dementor: So you want the Duke do you? Ha hah ha ha ha ha! Ah ha ha ha ha. Okay.
Kim: Really? No fighting?
Dementor: Unfortunately, my caper includes a grievious accounting error. A Duke's ransom isn't worth half a King's. Add the helicopter drones and nano-jetpacks, I'm losing millions.
Ron: Nano-Jetpacks?
Kim: You had to ask?
Duke: I say, thank you for dashing to my rescue with such haste.
Kim: No big. (Alarm)
Ron: Uh-oh, new world crisis?
Kim: No, worse. We're late for work.

(Theme)

Monique: Hey Kim, how was the mish?
Kim: How'd you know?
Monique: Mission hair.
Kim: Thanks. Is the manager here? I need her to sign my time card.
Monique: I can do that for you, now that I've been promoted to assistant manager!
Kim: No Way!
Kim and Monique: (Squeals)
Manager: Monique, Club Banana's chief designer is coming to our store.
Monique: Coco Banana, here?
Manager: Yes! So assemble and dress the mannequins quickly or --
Coco: Coco Banana is here.
Manager: Oh, Mr. Banana what a pleasure.
Coco: Handshake. (Bodyguard shakes hands) Coco Banana has brought the designs for the new fall collection. Please no faint.
Monique: May we gasp?
Coco: You may.
(Gasps)
Monique: The fall collection!
Coco: Three-quarter sleeves, sequin-trimmed tunic from ... last season.
Monique: Yes, Mr. Banana, sir.
Coco: Vintage Club B. Coco says props.
Monique: Oh, thank you.
Coco: Come labor force, Coco Banana will unveil the designs.
Manager: Uh uh, management only.
Monique: Sorry girl, I'll 411 you later.
Manager: Um, confidentiality agreement.
Coco: You will say nothing to no one.

Kim: Hah, fall collection. I am not jealous. Nope, no jellin here.
Ron: Whoa, okay from the beginning, KP. Y'know I'm at work and got nothing but time.
Kim: Well, it all stated when Coco Banana --
Ron: Sorry Kim, gotta go, the lemurs are in.
Kim: (Groans)

Barkin: Stoppable!
Ron: Mr. Barkin?
Announcer: Price check on Pop Pop Porter's freeze dried chicken-fried steaklettes.
Ron and Barkin: Two for a dollar ninety-nine. You work here?
Barkin: Housewares, fourteen years this June.
Ron: Pets, fourteen hours this week, but but, why do you?
Barkin: The gig at Middleton High is just for the benefits. This is my true passion.
Ron: Housewares really?
Barkin: Helping a customer choose between a muffin pan and a mini muffin pan, too beautiful for words. Uh-oh, store manager!
Manager: You there! Good hustle that price check, my boy.
Barkin: Thanks, Mr. Stockwell.
Manager: Not you, Barkin, our new employee, the one with promise and potential. A clear candidate for employee of the month.
Ron: That would be the bon-diggitiest! But, wait how would that work? Today being the 16th and all.
Manager: Ha-ha! And a sense of humor to boot. You are going places, son.
Announcer: Clean up on Aisle 12. Code T.
Barkin: T ... Toxic. He's right Stoppable, you are going places, Aisle 12, don't get any on ya.
Ron: Yes Mr. Barkin I-- hey, just a minimum wage minute, no orange tie, no authoritage,
Barkin: What are you babbling about?
Ron: Management wears orange ties, Mr. B, and you, no orange tie. Translation, you are not ...

Ron: ...the boss of me.
Rufus: You-ho.
Ron: Oh, school. Yeah, you are the boss of me.
Barkin: And you'll write that 500 times on the chalk board today in detention!
Kim: Come on, Monique, fall collection. Can't you sitch me on the hot and the not?
Monique: I told you, Kim, I signed a confidentiality agreement. I can't spill, girl.
Kim: We'll see about that.

Kim: Update on that contract, Wade?
Wade: It's air tight, Kim.
Kim: No loopholes?
Wade: Even if I found one, according to article 35 I couldn't tell you.
Ron: Even the loopholes are confidential?
Wade: I can't comment on that.
Kim: Oh!

Ron: Full house! A-Boo-Yaa! Now Dixie, sore loser doesn't exactly say “take me home” Okay, okay, someone needs a T-O.
Manager: What is going on over here?
Barkin: Clearly the new kid is agitating the stock, the live stock.
Little Boy: Mommy mommy! I want an angry gorilla!
Mom: Okay darling, let's get a shopping cart.
Manager: Nice sales strategy, son.
Ron: Well, you know. Sometimes it just comes to me.
Manager: But did you check the roster, you got stock room duty today.
Ron: Oh, I thought I was supposed to move these lemurs?
Manager: No need my boy, we are running a special, a free lemur with every coffee maker. We can't keep the little fur balls in stock. Barkin, show our star salesman where the stock room is.
Barkin: Ha-ha, my pleasure. Right this way, star.
Ron: Ah, gee Mr. B, that's nice of you. Considering you not have an ounce of controlage over me and all.

Barkin: Welcome to the jungle.
Ron: I have to organize all this stuff?
Barkin: Well, for someone on the fast track to employee of the month, I'm sure that you'll have it whipped into shape in no time.
Announcer: Price check on cotton sateen dust ruffles.
Barkin: Fourteen or 18 inch drop? I better take this.

Manager: Can you believe the yummy colors on those fall coats?
Monique: It's like a rainbow of retail perfection!
Kim: You know, I'm pretty good with keeping secrets. In fact, the safety of the world depends on it, so um, fall collection?
Manager: Uh, not gonna happen.
Kim: Huh, then I guess I'll clock out and pick up Ron. I'm sure he's got all new Lemur stories. Wish those were confidential.

Monique: Kim? You know you're not supposed to be in there. Kim!

Ron: Inventory, Kim. Two stories high!
Kim: So, you sort, you pile, you trash. Like when you cleaned your room.
Ron: We promised never to speak of that dark day.
Kim: Hey Monique.
Monique: Hey Monique? Hey Monique?!
Kim: Um, reason for the 'tude?
Monique: I get you a job at my store and this is how repay me?
Wade: Uh, guys?
Kim: What are you talking about?
Monique: Don't front with me girl, I saw you with my own eyes.
Kim: Saw me what?
Monique: Leaving the manager's office. I caught you eyeing those designs.
Kim: I did not!
Monique: Oh, I guess it was just your identical twin, right?
Wade: Or, Camille Leon.
Kim and Monique: Camille Leon?
Ron: Isn't she in jail?
Wade: That's what I've been trying to tell you. Apparently, she shapeshifted into a guard and escaped.
Ron: Okay, who did not see this coming? Besides the guards? And us.
Wade: Ill see if I can uh… hey!
Man: Kim Possible?
Kim: Uh, maybe.
Man: Officer Twill and Tweed. We'll like to ask you some questions.
Ron: Ha-ha, what are you, the fashion police?
Tweed: Affirmative, and that sports jersey is a serious violation.
Ron: You're writing me a ticket?
Rufus: Uh-huh.
Tweed: But uh, half cred on the pocket pet. They are hot this season.
Kim: So what's the drama, officers?
Coco: My new fall designs, stolen! But that would make Coco Banana a fashion victim! Tears!
(Bodyguard cries)
Kim: Camille's trying to frame me for stealing the designs.
Ron: Nothing spruces up a caper like a little revenge along the way.
Tweed: So you deny any involvement in this crime?
Kim: Natch. The woman you want is Camille Leon.
Tweed: The disinherited celebutante?
Twill: Best-dressed celeb three years in a row according to her style file.
Tweed: Check the crinoline pencil skirt, she's arresting.
Kim: You mean she should be arrested. If Camille has those designs, then she'll be looking to sell them.
Twill: Copy that, we'll follow up on the tip, but we're keeping an eye on you. (Alert tone) Six eight two in progress.
Tweed: Ugh, knee highs with flip flops.
Ron: Okay, even I know that's wrong.
Kim: Wade?
Wade: Already on it, Kim. Your ride's hovering outside.
Kim: Where to this time?
Wade: The one place Camille can get top dollar for stolen designs, Milan. Home of the fashion underground.
Ron: We're going to Italy! Boo-ya!
Kim: I thought Smarty Mart had you on stock room duty?
Ron: Aw man, y'know, way to undo the Boo-ya.
Monique: That's okay, Ron, I'll sub.
Kim: Oh, um, thanks but um, I can handle.
Monique: Hey, Camille played me too.
Kim: Would love to stay and lecture on the dangers of mission work, but Milan calls.
Monique: I think that girl just ditched me.

Rufus: Thanks.
Barkin: Stoppable?
Ron: Hey Mr. B. Just taking five.
Barkin: Question, just when do you plan on beginning the actual work?
Ron: Excuse me? I spent the last two sixties organizing this stuff into three piles. Miscellaneous stuff, other miscellaneous stuff and stuff I might want to buy with my discount, Two percent off, right?
Barkin: Stoppable, fit this into your nacho cheese head. Every item must be logged and shelved according department, not personal preference.
Ron: Aw man, now you tell me! Should not have done that.
Ron and Barkin: Ahhh!
Ron: Whew! Close one. I thought we were gonna be trapped in the stock room.
Barkin: Yeah, lucky us. That would be much worse than being trapped in a crate!

Wade: I can't let you launch, Dr. Fusion, world security is at hand. Just try and stop me, dino man! Oh Monique?!
Monique: So many levels of wrong. And aren't action figures a little low-tech for you?
Wade: Their holograms aren't complete yet. You won't tell anyone, right?
Monique: You get me to Milan and I'll keep Dino man and Purple Pigs on the DL.
Wade: Your ride, student parking lot.

Ron: Eh-eh-eh there's no way out, Mr. Barkin!
Barkin: Stop your squirming Stoppable, and look for a light source.
Ron: Well, it's sort of hard to focus when there's a flashlight wedged in your back. Pain! Ow!
Barkin: Give me that.
Ron: Oh, thanks Mr. B. much better. Mr. Barkin, your stubbleage, it's… oh how long have we been in here?!
Barkin: Oh about 19 minutes. I uh, have to shave often.
Ron: How often?
Barkin: Uh, 15 times a day. Now would you cut the chatter? I have to formulate a plan.
Ron: Already got one. Help! Somebody help!
Barkin: That's not a plan.
Ron: Not the boss of me. Heeelllp!
Barkin: No one can hear us, man, it's just you and me ... Cow: Mooo. Barkin: And the cow.
Ron: What is all this stuff, anyway?
Barkin: Appears to be returns. Merchandise that has been returned.
Ron: Where does it get returned to?
Barkin: To the returns warehouse, overseas.

Wade: Global positioning places the entrance to the fashion underground somewhere in that building.
Kim: As lairs go it's uh, pretty.
Twill: Interesting, every time we follow a clue on the stolen fashion designs, it leads to you. Why is that?
Kim: Because we're on the same case?
Tweed: We're the fashion police, Miss Possible, you can't pull the merino wool over our eyes.
Kim: Good thing, or you wouldn't see those women. Their outfits ... criminal.
Twill and Tweed: Where?!
Twill: I'm going in. Cover me.

Kim: Gosh, thanks a mil. Monique? I thought we agreed it's too dangerous for you to be here?
Monique: Don't even try to float the danger boat with me, girl. You don't want me here because you're jealous that I got to see the designs and you didn't. Tell me we are not in a sewer.
Kim: That's it! I am officially ... Nyah!
Monique: Eye to eye, Kim, are you even listening to me?
Kim: Wade, besides your little surprise, what's the sitch? What kind of security are we looking at here?
Wade: The Fashionistas use the latest in auto-sensory defenses.
Kim: The Fashionistas?
Monique: (Gasp) You don't know the Fashionistas?
Kim: Should I?
Wade: Sending profiles.
Monique: Espadrille, Hoodie, and Chino, they copy the brand name designer fashions and sell knockoffs around the world. They run the fashion underground.
Kim: Oh, heh heh.
Monique: See, missions may be your bag, but fashion? The sista.
Wade: The Fashionistas will make millions flooding the market with their counterfeit fashions.
Kim: All thanks to Camille and her stolen designs. Well, um, Monique, not that I don't have a plan B, but how would you get us into the underground?

Monique: Camille imitated you, a head back is fair game.
Kim: Poppin'.

Ron: I can't believe we're headed overseas. We can end up in a whole other country.
Barkin: Stoppable, quit your whining and give me a hand with our base camp. Here, use this trenching shovel to start our herb garden.
Ron: Herb garden? Uh, don't we need, like, herbs for that? Y'know, and garden.
Barkin: We'll harvest the soil from our socks.
Ron: Uh Mr. Barkin, you feeling okay? This crate's not getting to you is it?
Barkin: Of course not! And why do you keep calling me that?
Ron: Mr. Barkin?
Cow: Mooo.
Barkin: He's Mr. Barkin!
Ron: Moo?

Espadrille: There, my blog on updating the yoga pant, done and done.
Hoodie: Well, look who's back. And sporting a new accessory.
Kim: Is that, like our fall collection?
Hoodie: First shipment, hit's tomorrow.
Espadrille: So many pirates, so little time.
Camille: Yo-hoo! Fashion friends!
Chino: Camille?
Camille: Greets! Just came for more green. I've already spent yesterday's score. Oh, that whole foreign exchange thingy? So confusing. As if I was a mathamagician.
Chino: But if you're Camille.
Espadrille: Then who is she?
Camille: Eh, clearly a poser. They're a dime a doz, I mean, who wouldn't want to be me?
Kim: Props on the look, GF, but I'm the real Camille.
Camille: Please, it took, like a lifetime to perfect this. Nice try, wanna-be me. But if any one knows a knockoff, it's the Fashionistas.
Barkin: Tuesday, 1300, I'm surrounded behind enemy lines. Operation Desert Trout is in danger. Code name Ron Stoppable has crossed over to the other side.
Ron: Hey, at least I'm not the one talking into a rubber chicken ... this time.
Barkin: Rubber chicken! Rubber chicken! No, not again! Mayday mayday!
Cow: Moo.
Ron: I know, not looking good.

Monique: Uh, what now, Kim?
Camille: Uh! Kim? As in, Possible?
Kim: Oh, very good, Camille.
Monique: Say girl, yeah, my battle skills aren't quite in vogue.
Kim: Play to your strengths, Monique. Uh, accessorize.
Monique: On it.
Hoodie: Nice moves, Possible. I may design a track suit after you.
Kim: Design? Don't you mean steal?
Hoodie: What evs.
Camille: Oh please, these will never sell.
Monique: New knot, ya like?
Espadrille: Aughh, yes.
Hoodie: Cute look, but it needs a belt!
Monique: I disagree. The belt, too much. So, Kim, yeah, that whole danger excuse? Turns out you know your stuff.
Kim: So do you. I was jealous that you got to see the designs. forgive?
Monique: Forgive but um, can we pick this up later?
Hoodie: Sorry to crash the big kiss and cry, but this is biz.
Kim: And we're putting you out of it. Monique, the designs!
Monique: Kim, look out!
Kim: Whoa!
Cow: Moo.
Monique: Ron?
Ron: Monique!
Monique: Is that Mr. Barkin?
Barkin: (Deep breaths) Sweet lady oxygen! Breath with me, Stoppable! Breath!
Twill: Fashion Police, halt!
Tweed: Code red, I repeat, code red. Send immediate reinforcements.
Monique: Oh, oh sure, now you arrive.
Twill: We're trained in couture, not combat.
Kim: What's happening Monique?
Ron: KP!
Kim2: I'll tell you what's happening, Camille attacked me. Ron?
Twill: They both showed up in the same outfit.
Tweed: How humiliating.
Monique: Two Kims, which one is real?
Ron: Hmm, that one! You know I may not know where we are, or what's going on, but I know my own girlfriend.
Kim: No Ron, you don't.
Monique: Just a minute. Patent shoes, 100% silk blouse, arrest her!
Tweed: Why? I think it works.
Monique: This is Camille Leon! Your thief.
Twill: There's your collar.
Camille: But prison is so like, lame! Oh, can't I do house arrest at one of those yummy villas in Tuscany?
Kim: Good eye, Monique.
Ron: Okay look, the crate trappage may have affected my judgment. I was sitting with a cow! He was talking to a chicken and the --
Kim: Mmm-hmmm.

Monique: The designs, Mr. Banana sir.
Kim: We recovered them in Milan.
Coco: Feh, I scrapped these two days ago. I'm taking the fall line in a new direction.
Monique: Can you believe we went all that way?
Kim: And took on the whole underground just for him to --
Kim and Monique: Tears.
(Bodyguard cries)

Twill: Sir, step to the wall, please.
Tweed: You're charged with multiple counts of atrocious fashion sense.
Barkin: Uh, not sure this is accurate, I'm in three-inch heels.
Twill: Which is count one. Those pumps? Closed toes…
Tweed: Spring calls for strappy.
Twill: Turn to the left. Count two, the boa robe.
Tweed: Clearly you didn't pull it off.
Twill: Turn to the right. Count three the stole.
Tweed: Chicken was so two seasons ago.
Twill: Count four, the lampshade fedora.
Tweed: Your parents must be real proud of you.
Barkin: You realize I don't normally dress in this manner.
Twill: Tell it to the judge, pal.