Freeman's Mind： Episode 7-kj4BpDyhFuE.en.vtt

[Subtitles by danielsangeo]

Dammit.

How come that catwalk doesn't have any supports?

The last one had dangling cables after it collapsed.

If I had one of those, I could swing across to the other side like Tarzan.

That would be dope.

They did that in Star Wars, too.

Dude swinging across a gap with some babe holding onto him.

That was a grappling hook, though.

That's what this suit needs: a grappling hook.

Then I could swing my way to victory instead of performing this balancing act.

Bugs can crawl on walls. Maybe I should've been a bug.

Go Team Kafka!

I'd at least want four arms like the god Shiva.

Okay, now I have some options.

I can either fall to my death in this black pit,

land on the edge and gore myself on the jagged metal mesh,

or land on the concrete and maybe break my legs.

And before, all I had was the pit.

Jee-heez!

I'm going to have arthritis by the time I'm 30 at this rate.

Assuming I even live that long.

Ah, who am I kidding?

I've got a gun.

Oh, what the hell? Another catwalk is out?

And what is THAT?

It's got tentacles for a face.

It's a Cthulhu dog.

Well, it's attacking the face-huggers; it can't be all bad.

I'll just wait until it's done with them and--

[coughing]

Plegh! Tastes like dead caterpillars! Pleh!

Okay, squid-head.

Say hello to Yog-Sothoth and the Elder Gods for me!

Hey, a rope!

Now I can be Tarzan!

[Tarzan yell]

Hey, wait, that's not a rope.

That's a...these are like... jellyfish or something.

If I swung on that, it could come crashing down on me.

These aliens are just good for nothing.

These crates are good for something.

This one just broke my fall.

That means aliens are worth less than crates.

Which is, what, a few bucks?

Well, at least I got to rinse my mouth out.

What I really need is some toothpaste,

but now it tastes a little bit less like squid snot.

If that water's toxic, too, then at least the toxins are tasteless.

I'll have time to worry about mouth cancer later.

Hey, wait.

What's up with this ceiling?

That looks like a ceiling designed to have moving walls that crush people.

Well, there's no bloodstains.

Oh, God. That was a pun.

"What's up with this ceiling?"

What's wrong with me?

I'd punch somebody in the mouth if they said that to me.

Huh. Wow....

I wasn't expecting this.

This... this must be our box-smashing room.

I mean, what, we have a bottomless pit,

and the sides are all plate metal that look strong enough to withstand a missile blast.

This room must've cost a couple hundred thousand to build.

Eat your heart out, taxpayers.

This is where your money goes.

I mean, we get most of our money from the Department of Defense,

and this is what we're spending it on.

And here, I thought my division was wasting money.

We were doing a hell of a lot more than smashing boxes.

This whole company's just retarded.

Ugh, there's no door up here.

Is there really no way around this?

What do the workers normally do?

Just ride the crates down like it's a ski-lift?

Well...

Okay, extreme hopscotch!

Let's do this!

No room for error here.

It kind of reminds me of that cooking show I saw filmed in the Philippines,

where two chefs would compete against each other to make the best dish,

and, at the end, they would cut the loser's head off with a sword.

I think the show got cancelled.

Well, now I have an answer if anyone ever asks me what the dumbest thing I've ever did was.

I can say-WHOA!

"There was this one time I was jumping across these crates suspended above

"a bottomless pit, even though I didn't really know where I was going.

"Or-or-or, there was the time I crawled into a drainage pipe,

"opened up the floodgate and almost drowned.

"I shouldn't even be alive, really."

Ahh, made it.

So, where do these things go that we need so many crates?

That doesn't go anywhere.

That's a wall.

That....

That means we're just loading up crates so we can drop them over that pit.

That means that there's no damned point to this whole room.

This whole place is such a wash.

Good ol' New Mexico. We're really making a name for the state.

First, they invented the atomic bomb in Los Alamos.

Now, we've invented mean-ass aliens that teleport out of nowhere.

I'm not sure which is worse.

You know, when they invented the atomic bomb,

they were afraid it was going to catch the atmosphere on fire

and burn up the whole earth, but they did it anyway.

That took balls.

Not us, though.

The only people taking the risks

were the ones that didn't understand them in the first place.

We're not brave.

We're just stupid.

Well, I'm on the other side.

So, that's what? Three-for-three?

Man, we've picked the wrong contractor to build these catwalks.

El Sleazo's Discount Construction.

Bribing building inspectors for over 40 years.

YES!

Time to get the hell out of here.

I hate elevator music.