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"Bleu Cheese Bros"
Written by: Katherine Lawrence
Produced and Directed by: Tom Tataranowicz
Executive Producers: Rick Ungar and Tom Tataranowicz
INTRODUCTORY SUMMARY NOTE
"Bleu Cheese Bros" is another fun all-around adventure episode. Nothing particularly outstanding (although there are one or two really good jokes), but it's a fun ride all the same. The plot? Limburger finally goes to jail, but not under the circumstances the mice would prefer-the Big Cheese is sporting a warden's badge instead of black and white stripes. So naturally, our heroes have to follow him into the clink. But how do three law-abiding heroes get into jail? And once they're inside, how do they get out again?
And in case you were wondering, homoerotic subtext fans, no, there's no soap-dropping.
EPISODE SYNOPSIS
"Bleu" opens in a Chicago sewer. It's a damp but peaceful place--the new Walden, perhaps--until a distant hum turns into a thunderous rumble, and the walls start to shake. The noise grows louder and louder, and the vibrations stronger and stronger, until BAM! Throttle, Modo, and Vinnie smash through a nearby wall and into the tunnels. They pull to a stop in an open area.
"Man, this place is emptier than Greasepit's head!" Vinnie comments.
"But this is where the weird explosions were coming from," Modo says.
"Yeah, and when Chi-town rocks--" Throttle begins.
"--the Biker Mice roll!" Vinnie concludes as the mice go shooting through the sewers in search of answers.
As usual, that path leads straight to Limburger, by way of Greasepit. Deep in the tunnels, we find Greasepit and his goons determinedly drilling at a wall. It's pretty hazardous work, with rock chips flying up and striking the goons, none of whom had the foresight to bring helmets (their heads are hard enough, I suppose).
"Hey, we been splittin' rocks all night!" one shouts. "We need our break, Greasepit!"
Greasepit sneers.
"Yeah? Well, the only thing that's getting breaked around here is that treasury vault!"
Suddenly, the goons' drills pierce the wall. It breaks apart, revealing a large room lined with shelves, each of which is covered in neat stacks of money.
"No sooner said than done!" a goon laughs.
"Then move it, youse goons! Clean out all the money in the treasury vault nice and quiet!"
The drills are backed away from the hole. The goons rush in with a large, clear hose, with which they promptly begin sucking up the cash.
"Once the city of Chicago is outta dough, the boss can buy up the whole place real cheap like! And you know what? Those stinkin' mice won't be able to do a darn thing about it!"
A sudden loud noise from behind causes Greasepit to shout, "Hey, I told youse! We're supposed to be quiet as--"
"--as mice, sweetheart?"
The goons turn and see the Biker Mice right behind them.
"Hey, we're real sorry to burst your bubble, blubber butt…" Throttle says (without a trace of remorse).
"…but we're here to create a cash flow problem for ya," Modo concludes.
The cannons pop out of the mice's bikes, and they fire on the money vacuum (no, not the Bush tax cut). It explodes, scattering bills everywhere.
"Youse biker-busted bunnies is getting' real predictable," Greasepit snarls. "Youse know that? Say goodbye, mousies!"
He whips out a black remote control and presses its prominent red button. Suddenly, the ceiling above the Biker Mice explodes, raining down rubble on top of them.
"Uh oh, bros!" Someone's trying to close our accounts!" Throttle shouts.
As the rocks fall, the mice try to avoid them, but there are just too many. Even so, they continue with the quips and wry comments.
"Man, I thought the Stones were killer!" Vinnie laughs.
"Real head-bangin' rock!" Modo agrees, punching a falling stone.
Soon, the mice are completely buried under a ton of rubble.
"Huh! Well, whaddaya know?" Greasepit chuckles. "It worked! Who woulda thunk it? Y'know, I could get used to that!"
He quickly orders his goons to get back to work. With the hose broke, they have to pick up the money by hand (oh, I'm sure they hated doing that) and stuff it into a large sack. Moments later, the bag is full to overflowing. The goons hoist it into the air and prepare to make off with the money.
Just then, the goons hear an ominous rumbling. They look back to the rock pile the mice were buried under. No, it's not coming from there…it's coming from over there! And it's getting closer! Closer! Closer!
Suddenly, the Biker Mice burst out of the ground a few feet away from the bad guys. The spinning drills on their bikes supply the explanation as to how they avoided being crushed by the falling rocks: they simply tunneled underground.
"Yeah! Dig it!" Vinnie laughs.
The mice pull to a stop facing the goons.
"We may be mice…" Throttle explains.
"…but we gopher it like the best of 'em!" Modo concludes.
"You know the drill, bros!"
"Time for the good old Statue of Liberty Play!"
"First, though, we gotta have us a ball! Let's rock and--"
"--WHIP TAIL!" the mice shout in unison, shooting toward Greasepit and his goons. Throttle plows into them and snatches the giant money bag out of their hands. Vinnie and Modo follow quickly behind.
"Let's scoot this loot, bros!" Throttle shouts.
The goons give chase in their dune buggies. One comes down a subway track towards the mice. Modo blasts the buggy out from under him with his bike's cannon, then knocks its driver out of the way with a punch.
"Modo throws a key block for the quarterback!" he shouts.
"Who laterals to the tailback!" Throttle calls out, letting the bag fly back to Vinnie. The white-furred mouse catches it with his tail.
"Vinnie rockets, does a no-hander! He's goin' all the way!"
"Tootles!" Modo laughs as the mice head for the exit.
"Hey youse goons!" Greasepit shouts. "Blitz 'em!"
The mice leave the tunnels via a street-level entrance, while Greasepit and his goons burst out of a large building.
"Youse can run, but youse can't hide, mousies!"
"Hey, who says we're doin' either?" Vinnie quips.
A laser shoots over the cocky mouse's head.
"Good to see Greasepit takin' such an interest in his finances!"
"Ah think it's about time he sees some return on his investment, don't you?" Modo asks.
"Nice savvy, Modo," Throttle laughs. "Let's give him a real payback!"
As the mice zoom into Daley Plaza, Greasepit shouts, "Youse dirty rats! Stealin' the money I stole fair and square! I'll murderize youse!"
Just a few blocks away from all this excitement is a much quieter neighborhood. We can hear crickets chirping and dogs barking in the distance. There, a coed pair of police officers sit relaxing in their cruiser, with no petty crime or domestic abuse to draw their attention. The male officer sits and sips a coffee. They both look out the window blankly, waiting--no, praying for something to happen.
"Quiet night," the woman says.
Suddenly, the Biker Mice shoot past, dropping the bag of money on the hood of their cruiser.
"What the--?!"
"Yeah!" Vinnie laughs. "Touchdown!"
"Way to spike the ball, Vinnie!" Throttle says, slapping him a high five.
"Hey, you should see my victory dance!"
The white-furred mouse rockets into the sky, looping and spiraling as he goes. When Vinnie lands, he and his bros head for home.
Greasepit and his goons spot cash-covered car. It's so thickly buried in bills that they don't seem to realize it's a police cruiser, and they pull up within a few feet.
"Hey! There's the money we stole from the treasury!" Greasepit says happily. "Boy, life is fulla surprises! Now we can steal it back!"
Suddenly, the lights on top of the car flash to life.
"Oh yeah? You care to repeat that for us, slimeball?" the female officer asks as she steps out.
"Oops! Uh, eh, did I say steal? Duh, no, I meant 'happened to be stolen'? To be returned? I mean--I mean--"
CLICK! A pair of cuffs are snapped around the goon's fast wrists.
"Ooh, Mr. Limburger ain't gonna like this!" Greasepit groans, tears welling up in his beady eyes.
"I ABSOLUTELY HATE IT!" Limburger howls in his penthouse office at Limburger Tower. "Those wretched rodents have ruined my plans once more!"
He slumps into his chair, nearly in tears.
"With that low-rent imbecile Greasepit and his goons in prison, I am myself short on henchmen! What am I to do with them locked up in…"
His face brightens suddenly.
"In prison! Julian Prison, eh? Mmm, what a potentially profitable position! Plenty of acquirable acreage replete with raw recruits, and all within those impregnable walls! Not even those vile voles could break in there! What a pleasant place to expand the breadth of my operations."
He presses a button on his intercom and chuckles darkly.
"Miss Brennick? Get me--the governor."
At the Last Chance Garage, the mice are celebrating as they remove the drills from their bikes.
"Yeah! With Greasepit going up a prison cell, we're sliiiiiiidin' home!" Vinnie laughs.
"One less speedbump on the road to victory!" Modo agrees.
Charley looks up from the television.
"Uh oh, guys. I hate to flash a hazard light, but look!"
"In other news, the governor announced today that Julian Prison has a new warden. Prominent citizen Lawrence Limburger will assume control of the facility under the Limburger Industries Social Reform Program," the well-groomed anchor says.
"Oh please!" Throttle laughs bitterly. "Social deform program is more like it!"
"Oh man, we gotta slam dunk that chunky cheese head!" Vinnie declares, accidentally (well, I'll leave that one up to you) punching Modo in the arm as he does. Modo responds by putting Vinnie in a headlock and giving him a noogie while asking, "But--but--but how do you go about breakin' into prison?"
"Well, y'know, Julian Prison has announced that they're looking for more prison guards," Charley suggests.
Vinnie grins.
"Moi? In a prison guard uniform? Sweetheart, drab is not my color!"
"Not you! I meant me!"
"You? A prison guard?" Vinnie asks, incredulous. His face cracks into an ear to ear grin. "Cute! Lock me up and throw away the key!"
"I know I've been tempted at times," Charley grumbles.
"No, no, I don't think so," Throttle interrupts. "It's too dangerous, Charley. We'll handle it."
"What? Locking up Vinnie?" Charley asks excitedly.
"No," Modo corrects. "Takin' on the prison problem."
Vinnie joins his bros and throws his arms over their shoulders.
"Yeah! This is macho mano a mano stuff!"
Charley assumes a bombshell pose and sarcastically comments, "Oh, right. I forgot. Silly me."
The mice are a little puzzled by the comment (or at least Charley's easy acceptance of being left out). Modo shrugs off Vinnie's arm and asks in the same tone most people use when asking what to get for dinner, "So, we gonna blast our way in?"
"Nah, it's not the best of ideas, Big Fella. I mean, that's government property. We gotta play this one by the book."
"By the book, eh?" Vinnie asks. "Well, then, it's simple. We get ourselves in trouble, let the police nail us, and WHAMMO! It's a free ride into Limburger's fat lap!"
"Yeah!" Modo agrees. "Once we're inside, we can figure out a way to sneak the bikes in."
Throttle considers the idea carefully.
"It's risky…" he comments.
"…difficult…" Vinnie adds.
"…and dangerous," Modo concludes.
Vinnie howls and laughs, "Sounds like life as I love it!"
"A perfect way to spend the afternoon," Modo agrees.
"Hmm. It appears to be unani-mouse," Throttle concludes.
"'Unani-mouse'?" Charley asks as the mice mount their bikes. "Don't I get a say in this?"
Apparently not, because the mice promptly get on their bikes and zip out the door without another word. Well, okay, Throttle says, "Let's go!", but they don't say anything to the frustrated mechanic. Hey, Charley--nobody said being the human cohort to a group of anthropomorphic crimefighters was gonna be easy. Just ask April O'Neill.
Shortly thereafter, we find the two cops from earlier sitting at a red light, enjoying a leisurely doughnut and coffee break. Ahh, the peaceful streets of nighttime Chicago…
"Evenin', officers."
They policemen look up and are stunned to see the Biker Mice sans helmets beside the car. The male officer is so stunned by the site of the four furry bikers and their mousy faces that he spits out his coffee right on his partner's lap (does that qualify as sexual harassment?).
As the light turns green, the mice pull their helmets back on and take off, popping wheelies as they go. The police turn on the siren and quickly follow. Why, I don't know. The mice don't seem to have broken any laws, although maybe there's some kind of law that says you can't pop a wheelie on city streets or something. Or maybe they wanted to commit police brutality or something. Your guess is as good as mine on this one.
"Who were those guys?" the female officer asks.
"I'll call for back-up," her partner says quickly, grabbing the radio. Soon, four cruisers are following the mice.
"Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii love a paraaaaaaaaaaaaade," Vinnie croons, severely off-key.
"Whoah, whoah, please! Put a sock in it, Vincent!" Throttle says as they approach a large, abandoned building just ahead. We catch a glimpse of a sign reading CONDEMNED just as the mice burst in through a wall. The police swerve and head around the building.
Our heroes quickly split up and begin wreaking havoc. Throttle knocks over piles of boxes and barrels. Modo clotheslines support beams with his bionic arm, snapping them in half and severely weakening the building's structural supports. Vinnie smashes through huge piles of rubbish. After a few moments, they regroup and plow through a brick wall. They burst out through another wall just as the cops come around the side.
Modo glances back at the fleet of cruisers behind them.
"Sure we aren't causin' too much trouble?"
"Hey, gotta live life with gusto, big boy!" Throttle chides. "Besides, the place was scheduled for demolition this week!"
"Think of it as doin' this place a favor!" Vinnie adds.
Modo mulls this over, then realizes, "Yeah, an' savin' taxpayers a few bucks, too!"
Throttle nods and looks to the intersection ahead.
"Oh no, bros, look!" he says in a sing-songy voice. "Red light!"
The mice skid to a stop in the crosswalk.
"Looks like we've run out of running room," Modo notes.
"Oooh, we're trapped like ra--"
Modo glares at him, eye glowing threateningly.
"--mice," Vinnie finishes nervously. "Mice."
The cruisers surround them on all sides. Through the loudspeaker, a voice booms, "YOU! REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE! DO NOT ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE!"
Modo glances at the cars around them.
"Ah hope we didn't overdo it."
"Too much is never enough!" Vinnie laughs. "Personally, I think we were very restrained!"
"Restrained?!" Throttle and Modo ask.
"Hey, hey! The place is still upright, isn't it?"
Perfectly on cue, the building collapses.
"Well, some of it is, anyway," Vinnie amends.
Throttle glances at the cruiser's flashing lights.
"Speaking of upright…"
Modo lifts his hands.
"Well, as my momma always said, it's time to assume the position."
As Vinnie and Throttle raise their arms, the rest of the building falls, as if to spite them. Vinnie grimaces. Suddenly, amidst the flashing lights and wailing sirens, he hits upon the one tiny flaw in their otherwise perfect plan.
"Hey, uhh, bros?"
"Umm, what, Vincent?" Throttle asks.
"Did anyone ever consider what these cops are gonna think when they find out we're not wearing costumes?"
"Oh, now the big brainstorm comes through," Modo grouses.
"Emergency! Emergency! Mass breakout at Julian State Correctional Facility! All units, please respond!"
The female officer starts to get into the car.
"Wait a minute!" her partner interrupts. "What're we gonna do about them?"
"Well, all we got here are a couple of hotshot bikers having a bad face day," she explains. "What they got there is a full-scale prison break which could cripple the entire city!"
With that, they climb in, and all the cop cars speed away. The mice remain froze, their hands in the air, as the fleet disappears down the street. Only after the last of the lights have faded do they relax. Despite the whole "costume" problem being neatly taken care of, they're still pretty frustrated.
"Geez!" Throttle gripes. "What's a mouse gotta do to get arrested around here, anyway?"
"'Bad face day'?" Vinnie snaps, incredulous. "Not on my account!"
"Yeah, man, can you believe it?" Modo asks. "Lettin' us go after all our hard work! There oughtta be a law!"
Vinnie, slightly hurt, murmurs, "My mom always said I was handsome…"
Throttle mulls the broadcast over.
"They said it was a prison break outta Julian. You know what that means, bros."
"Big Cheese is up to somethin' rank," Modo says.
Vinnie howls gleefully.
"And my menace meter says it's time to rock--"
"--AND RIDE!"
The mice shoot down the street.
At the prison, meanwhile, we see Greasepit carrying an elderly inmate outside like a pesky cat about to be put out for the night.
"Get out there and escape with the rest of the wimps, Grampa!" the goon orders, throwing the old man into a mud puddle. "Mister Limburger only wants tough guys for his goon squad--tough guys like me!"
Greasepit proudly straightens himself up, but leans too far forward, and falls facedown into a puddle of his own grease. The old man laughs. When the goon rises, his face is as flat and level as a carpenter's bench from the impact.
"See!" Greasepit asks, voice cracking. "Now that's tough!"
He walks away straight as a pin, but whimpering in pain.
Inside the prison's video monitoring room, we see a single female guard on duty. On one of the monitors is Greasepit, changing into his own brown guard's uniform. It's so tight on him that when one of the buttons flies off into the security camera, it actually breaks the lens!
"Macho man stuff indeed," the guard chuckles. "This guard job's a cinch!"
Why, that sounds like--Charley! And it is! Once again, we see that the mechanic isn't about to let the mice cut her out of the action. She's going to help whether they like it or not.
On another monitor, we see Greasepit carefully passing out black belted vests to a line of large, burly inmates (none so big or burly as him, of course).
"And your new uniform--here, let me see, you look like a large, maybe a portly…"
"He's recruiting all the convicts he didn't throw out of prison into his goon army!" Charley realizes.
Greasepit slips one of the inmates into a vest and pulls the belt so tight that the man can't breathe.
"Oh, perfect! Next!"
The prisoners look terrified.
A third monitor shows Fred the Mutant giving the inmates the standardized goon haircut: a little ponytail on top of the head--with a chainsaw. Surprisingly, there apparently haven't been any fatalities (though Fred would only really enjoy it if he himself were among the fallen).
Charley hits the eject button and picks up the tape.
"And once I get these tapes to the DA, that Plutarkian slimeball Limburger will be up to his reekin' gills in trouble!"
She notices something on the monitors. There, the mechanic sees Limburgers goons (mostly the old ones) in spidery earthmoving equipment digging up ground and tossing into space portals.
"And what's this? Limburger's stealing all the dirt from under the whole prison! If we don't stop him, he'll undermine half the state from in here! I gotta tell the guys!"
She spins around in her chair--and finds herself face to face with Limburger and Greasepit.
"Oooh, I believe that can be easily arranged," the Plutarkian coos. "After all, this is hardly a surprise! Every time I come up with a delicately balanced plan to entrap those rodent friends of yours, there you are! Really, it's become quite tiresome."
Charley rises defiantly to her feet.
"You're the one in the trap, you fat fishstick! The Biker Mice are on their way here right now!"
"How utterly delightful! I must prepare a suitable welcome for them! I do hope you'll agree to help."
"I'll never help pond-slime like you!"
Greasepit slips in behind the mechanic and lifts her off her feet.
"I'm afraid, my dear, your choices in the matter are rather limited," Limburger purrs.
The Biker Mice, meanwhile, have hit upon a different strategy to get into the prison. As they roll towards Julian, we see a large trailer hitched to the back of Modo's bike. It looks vaguely similar to the contraption Throttle and Modo crafted in "Last Stand at Last Chance," and might be the same thing, although it seems unlikely. Inside the trailer are dozens of nasty-looking men.
"These escaped cons we collared are a sure ticket past those walls, bros!" Throttle declares.
"Yeah!" Modo agrees. "We're just good citizens doing our civic duty. And once we're inside--"
"--we'll find Limburger and make the jailhouse rock!" Vinnie concludes.
Throttle suddenly calls for his bros' attention, and points out the open gate at the prison.
Vinnie simply laughs it off, saying, "I guess if all the jailbirds have flown the coop, there's no need to close the cage!"
"'Sides, if that stinkfish Limburger is in there, you know it needs airing out!" Modo chuckles.
Throttle remains uncertain, and with good cause. The mice are no sooner inside the gates than they spot a giant crater just ahead. They barely stop in time.
"Whoah! Limburger's revealing some unexpected depths!" Vinnie exclaims.
"Yeah!" Modo agrees. "Ah heard of bein' thrown in the hole, but--"
Suddenly, the gate slams shut behind them.
"WELCOME TO JULIAN PRISON, BIKER MICE!" Limburger booms over the PA system from the warden's office. "MICE CHECK IN, BUT THEY DON'T CHECK OUT." He laughs at his own joke.
"Well," Throttle chuckles, "old stinkface thinks he's got us, boys.
"But the trap's on the other tail!" Vinnie declares.
Modo breaks his bike free of the trailer and suggests, "Hey, let's nail his fish-skin to the wall!"
The mice charge toward the center building. As they race up the side, Limburger counts down the seconds to their arrival. Precisely at "zero," they burst through the window, skidding to a stop directly across from the Plutarkian.
"The usual heroic entrance!" Vinnie proclaims proudly.
"And so predictably punctual, too!" Limburger adds. "Welcome, my dear doormice! Welcome to your delectable downfall!"
He presses a button on one of the series' omnipresent remote controls. In the corner, a light turns on, revealing a bound Charley sitting in a chair flanked by two heavily armed goons. Maybe it's just the pants, but her hips look really wide in this shot.
"Uhh, hi, guys," she says meekly. "Is it visitors' day?"
"And now," Limburger continues, "if you would be so good as to surrender, we can get on with the…ummm…exercise, as it were?"
We next find the Biker Mice hanging upside down from the ceiling of the prisoner barracks. They're wrapped in chains from head to toe (or, more appropriately, toe to head). On the balcony above, the prisoners are eagerly shouting and waving weapons at them.
"Um, somehow, I don't think this exercise is meant for our benefit, bros," Throttle comments.
"Oh man!" Vinnie moans. "I hate it when all the blood rushes into to my antennae!"
Greasepit gathers his new troop of goons on the prison floor, closer to the mice.
"Okay, listen up, youse guys!" He motions toward the Biker Mice and explains, "These here are your training targets. Your assignment is to whomp them mousies' skins. And show no mercy!"
The inmates wave chains and clubs menacingly.
"Bros?" Vinnie says quietly.
"Yes Vincent?" Throttle asks.
"Now would be a great time for an escape plan."
"'Cause if we don't beat our tails outta here--" Modo begins.
"No, lemme guess--these goons are gonna do it for us?"
The goons begin chucking trays and garbage at the mice.
"I don't know," Vinnie grumbles. "Punchin' bag was never my idea of a knockout career opportunity!"
"My old gray-furred Momma didn't raise me to be a trainin' dummy!" Modo agrees, twisting.
"Hey, hey, hang tight, bros! We're about to get sprung!" Throttle grunts. He moves slightly to get a better view of the chains binding them, then easily slips his tail around and into one of the locks. The leader of the mice wiggles its tip in the hole for a moment, and suddenly, the lock springs open. The chains around the mice fall away, freeing their arms.
"Bingo! Let 'er rip, Big Fella!"
Modo uses his arm cannon to blast the walkway they're tied to. It falls, and the mice land perfectly on the ground below, lengths of chain still hanging on them. They have to move fast, though, to avoid the beam when it hits the ground.
Throttle sizes up the situation.
"Twenty of them, and three of us."
Modo pulls the chain between his hands taut.
"Yeah. Finally, a fair fight."
Greasepit orders his soldiers into attack. The mice meet them eagerly, shouting, "LET'S ROCK--AND RAMPAGE!"
Modo is the first to test out the new batch of goons. Two wielding clubs rush at him. He easily avoids their clumsy swings, then whips a large chain around them. They fall to the ground, bound and unable to move.
"Yo, Vinnie! Here's a chain letter for ya!"
"Well, thanks, bro!" the white-furred mouse says as he grabs an attacker and throws him over to Modo's tied up pair. He becomes wedged between the two of them. The trio tumble over to one end of a makeshift seesaw.
"Send one goon to the above address and include a stamp!" the white-furred mouse shouts, leaping onto the other end, launching the threesome into the air. They slam into another pair of goons, knocking them into an open cell.
"And before you know it--" Throttle starts to say. Before he can finish the thought, a goon catches him off guard, ramming a pipe under his chin and driving him into the wall. Others swarm around, but before they can put a hurt on the mouse, he charges up his Knuke Knucks and punches the one nearest him. The force of the blow slams him into the others, knocking all of them into the open cell.
"--you'll get twenty goons special delivery!" the mouse concludes.
The goon who has him against the wall wisely drops his pipe and runs for the safety of the cell. He gets in just in time to be knocked down by the Biker Mice replacing the bars in the door. And that's the last of 'em!
"Mm mm mm," Throttle says thoughtfully, looking at the scene. "Shameful example of prison overcrowding."
"Now for the walkin' drip-pan," Vinnie says eagerly, grinding his fist into his palm.
"But where is that lube-skull anyuway?" Modo asks.
Quite suddenly, Greasepit dashes past them and straight through a brick wall, screaming, "HELP! MR. LIMBURGER!!!"
Vinnie leads the mice through the hole, saying, "Come on, bros! His oil slick'll lead us right to Charley."
In the main building, Limburger is having a hard time with Charley. You gotta expect hostility from hostages.
"Come along, you meddling mechanic!" he snaps, trying to pull her through a doorway by her handcuff chains. "Cease your futile struggles! After all, I am the warden, and you, my dear, are a prisoner!"
"In your dreams, lard butt!" Charley shouts. She stops pulling against him and instead charges, slamming the Plutarkian into a wall. The mechanic manages to get a few feet away, but Limburger catches her by the arm and pulls her back. Charley responds by tearing his mask off, whipping him in the face with it, and kicking him in the ankles. As Limburger hops about in six distinct kinds of pain, the mechanic again tries to make a break for it. This time, she's cut short by Greasepit, who just happened to be looking for Limburger at the time. He's as surprised as she is. The goon grabs her, then shouts, "Boss! The mice! They're after me!"
"So naturally, you thought you'd bring them here," Limburger sighs, pulling his mask back on.
Suddenly, Vinnie charges Greasepit from behind and knocks him down. The goon slides in his own grease and slams into Limburger, knocking him into an open elevator shaft (don't worry; they're caught by the next car). Vinnie falls, too, but is only covered in grease. Not that he's particularly happy about this.
"Aw, gross! Look at this!" he gripes as Throttle helps him to his feet. Vinnie pulls off his helmet and tries to clean himself up. "Look at this! It's so…fifties!"
"Coif your do later, Vincent," Throttle replies. "We got enough to clean up right here."
The mice look up and see Limburger and Greasepit (who is suddenly back in his usual uniform) ascending in the elevator shaft. Vinnie slips his helmet back on and strikes a flare against his leg to cut off Charley's cuffs. The mechanic looks away nervously, and Vinnie looks a little hurt. He recovers, pulls off the remains, and declares, "There ya go, sweetheart."
"Thanks. I never was one for gaudy bracelets."
Throttle peers through the doorway and asks, "Now where'd that slimy salmon put our bikes?"
Charley motions for them to follow her.
"I'll show you! Come on!"
The mice run out the door.
Overhead, a news chopper circles the grounds, with that familiar blonde anchor giving commentary on the scene.
"All the prison gates are locked, and the police are unable to return the captured prisoners to their cells. In addition, there appears to be a mysterious deep pit in the center of the prison yard. The governor will hold a news conference in one hour. Until then, this is Kent Acme--"
Suddenly, lights and sirens below catch his attention.
"Wait! Something is happening!"
Below, the Biker Mice burst out the front door.
"Head for the wall! Banzai breakout!" Vinnie shouts.
Our heroes make their way across the yard, leaping the gigantic pits easily. They're stopped, however, when a guard shines a searchlight in their eyes, forcing them to halt.
"Get them! Don't let them escape!" Limburger shouts at the inmate/goons from his office. They have a different idea, though; running for their lives. As one explains before darting away, "If I wanted to work for a living, I wouldn't have turned to crime."
Limburger sighs.
"I have simply got to improve my training methods. This sort of insubordination is inexcusable."
His phone rings, and he answers it angrily.
"Hello?! Who is--"
He grimaces.
"Why, Mister Governor! This is indeed an honor!"
"Shut up!" the governor snaps. "What do you think you're doing, Limburger? You call this social reform?"
"I assure you, Governor, things are completely under control--"
"Mr. Limburger!" Greasepit shouts. "The Biker Mice! They're coming this way!"
Limburger quickly changes course.
"On second thought, Governor, you're quite right. I have let you down. Therefore, Limburger Industries resigns as prison management, effective immediately!"
"Limburger…" the governor growls.
"Sorry, no time to talk!" the Plutarkian says quickly as his helicopter appears next to the window. "Just send my last paycheck to--"
As he reaches for the rope ladder, lasers fly in through the window.
"--well, I'll get back to you. Ta ta!"
He lays the phone down (still squawking), and starts climbing up the ladder, with Greasepit close behind. Directly below are the Biker Mice. Probably wasn't the best idea to try and make an escape in full view of them…
"You ain't gonna get away this time, slime skin!" Modo shouts. "When ah get a hold of you, Limburger, I'm gonna belt you one!"
He blasts off toward Limburger. Greasepit spots the fast-approaching mouse and smartly pushes past his boss to the safety to the helicopter. Unfortunately for Limburger, this knocks him right off the ladder and into midair. Modo proves an unlikely savior, catching the Plutarkian by the waistband of his pants as he falls and, intentionally or not, swinging him Limburger up to the ladder, where the fat fish clings tenaciously. Modo's only grip, unfortunately, is still the top of Limburger's pants, which affords him an unwanted view of the Plutarkian's underwear.
"Oh Momma!" Modo moans. "What a revoltin' revelation!"
"Let go, you gray-furred gibbon!" Limburger shouts.
"Believe me, ah'm considerin' it."
The news-copter hovers beside the skeptical, and gets a perfect shot of Limburger's big behind.
"Whoah!" the anchor laughs. "And the moon is full over Chicago tonight!"
Modo's weight proves to be too much for Limburger's pants to support, and he falls (pulling the pants off in the process). He whistles for his bike, and it leaps up and catches him.
"Yeah! My Momma always said a mouse's best friend is his bike!"
"Pull me inside, you poltroons!" Limburger shouts as his helicopter disappears into the distance. "Oh, the utter humiliation of it all! A real pain in the--"
"But man, I can't believe he's getting' away clean!" Vinnie says.
"Maybe he isn't," Charley suggests, motioning toward the portable transporter tripod in one of the pits. "If we fight dirty."
At Limburger Tower, the defeated Plutarkian and his henchmen are having a little marshmallow roast in his office. The fuel source? A barrel full of potentially incriminating VHS tapes from the prison's monitoring room.
"A disgraceful escape, but at least I'm able to destroy all the evidence against me," Limburger declares. "And I obtained vast quantities of soil for Plutark. Thus it is, I believe, what is termed a clean getaway."
"That's what you think, cheeseball!"
Limburger wheels around at the sound of Charley's voice. He looks out the window and spots the Biker Mice on a neighboring rooftop. Modo chucks the glowing transporter tripod at the window.
"Oh dear. This does not bode well."
Once inside, it reverses the flow of material, sending an unimaginable amount of dirt from the space holding bins right into Limburger's office. The entire building bulges outward from the pressure before it explodes.
"Now that's what ah call a dirty trick," Modo says.
"Yeah! Really brought down the house!" Vinnie agrees.
"Well, it's business as usual for Limburger: down and dirty!" Charley declares.
"Sweetheart, you really got a mean streak. I love it!"
"Well, chalk up another one for the Biker Mice, bros!" Throttle announces. "It's time to rock--"
"--AND RIDE!"
Our heroes race down the street, Limburger's pants whipping in the wind behind Modo's bike like a trophy.
In the dirty rubble of his Tower, Limburger weeps.
"Oh, I'll never get these rugs clean!"
(duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh duh!)
MY THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE
"Bleu Cheese Bros" is like the majority of Season Two episodes--fun, sometimes nondescript romps, with a few sharp little barbs that make them memorable and remind you why you keep watching "Biker Mice." "Bleu's" principal charms are three. First, there's the humor. There's the crack about locking up Vinnie early on, and then our heroes' sudden realization when they get pulled over is pretty rich. The latter really says something interesting about how accustomed the mice are to living on Earth. I still have a hard time believing that they wouldn't have thought of that sooner, but even Throttle's strategic brilliance has to falter sometimes, I suppose. Second, we have the scene when Vinnie cuts the handcuffs off Charley. Specifically, it's that hurt look on his face when she turns away. It just comes totally out of left field. La la la, happy little prison episode--WHAMMO! Emotion and character development?! What's that doing here? Seriously, though, Vinnie's reaction is very important, because in that one second, we see that he's serious about his relationship with Charley, to the point that her lack of trust hurts him. Sort of a pity that it's never commented on further, but hey, this is a kid's adventure series, after all (although it's still one of the best in its genre for character development). And finally, good all-around production values. The backgrounds in the opening shots were particularly nice, and as an anime fan, I liked the shot right after the mice pull into the prison, with all the speed lines and such.
…
Yeah, that's it. Go read the next one!
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