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| - Rigby: Dude! Check it out, man! They're here! Mordecai: What's here? Rigby: Our fake band t-Shirts that we ordered from that site last night. Mordecai: What? Rigby: Last night, I asked you if you wanted to be in a band and you said... Mordecai: Yes! I wanna be in a band with you. Alright, but we gotta have a cool band name. What do you think of "Cool Dudes"? Rigby: "Face Punch." Mordecai: "Rad 'N' Subtract." Rigby: "Helicopter Crash." Mordecai: What about "Mustache Cash Stash"? Rigby: That's it! That's it! Mordecai: Order the shirts! Order the shirts! Mordecai: Oh yeah, T-Shirts. Rigby: Check it out! Bam! (Pulls out a "Mordecai and the Rigbys" t-shirt) Mordecai: Mordecai and the Rigbys? What happened to Mustache Cash Stash?! Rigby: I changed it. Awesome, right? (Throws a t-shirt at Mordecai) Mordecai: But that's just our names! We aren't really going to wear these around, are we? Margaret: Woah, rad shirts! What are those for? Rigby: They're for our band. Margaret: You guys are in a band? "Mordecai and the Rigbys"? That's so cool. Mordecai: No, no, no: we're not in a band, heh... Margaret: (skeptically) So, what, it's some sort of fake band? Mordecai: No, it's a real band, but just... not a big deal, you know? Margaret: (gasps) Your band should play the open mic tomorrow night! (Hands Mordecai and Rigby a flyer) Mordecai: Yeah, for sure, uh... totally. Margaret: Awesome. I can't wait to see you guys play. Well, I guess I'll see you then. Mordecai: Yeah... see you then... then. (Faceplants on the table) Rigby: What was that, man?! Mordecai: I dunno! I just didn't want her to think we had a stupid fake band! Rigby: But now we gotta play that open mic tomorrow! Mordecai: OK, OK, we can totally do this. We just gotta learn one song by tomorrow night. Rigby: One song? Mordecai: One song. Mordecai: Ready? Rigby: Shreddy. Mordecai: One, two, three, four! Mordecai: OK, stop, stop. We need help. Pops: A two-man ensemble? What a charming idea! Mordecai: How'd you learn to be so good, Pops? Pops: Ah-ha! (Rises from the harpsichord bench and pulls out some records from inside. The first is 'How to be a Musician' by 'Sir Geoffrey') Throw these records on the old talking machine and you'll be ready for your open mic in no time! Mordecai: Agh, you know about the open mic night? Pops: Yes, everybody knows about it: we're all going to be there! Mordecai and Rigby: Augh! Rigby: Wait. If we're gonna learn this in time, then you gotta take this seriously. Mordecai: What? Rigby: Put on the shirt. Mordecai: Fine. (Puts on his Mordecai and the Rigbys t-shirt) Play the record. Sir Geoffrey: So, you want to become a musician? Bravo! Now, what is the first thing all good musicians require? Mordecai: Talent? Sir Geoffrey: Yes! Good personal hygiene is the key to becoming a successful gentleman musician! Mordecai: (Talks over the record) Augh, this is gonna take like ten years! Rigby: Yeah, and there's still two more after this one! (Holds up the remaining two records) Mordecai: There's gotta be a faster way. Sir Geoffrey: ... all washed up? Good! Now just locate your... Rigby: All three at once? Sir Geoffrey: (from three speakers)... one, two, three... A minor seventh... Harmonic can be tapped... Rigby: Dude, this isn't working! I can't understand anything. Mordecai: Dude, we gotta keep going. Do you wanna look like an idiot at the open mic? Mordecai: What was that? Mordecai: Dude, what's happening?! Rigby: I don't know! Mordecai and Rigby: Woah! Mordecai and Rigby: Woooaaah! Mordecai: Dude, who are you guys? Future Mordecai: (in British accent) We're Mordecai and Rigby. Who the blazes are you? Mordecai: Uhh... Future Mordecai: Hah! Just kiddin'. We know who you are. Coz we're you in ten years! Future Rigby: (in British accent) You don't know it yet, but this is the moment where we teach you how to rock! (Makes metal sign with right hand) Mordecai: Dude, this is perfect! Rigby: Wait, wait. We suck, and if you're us, doesn't that mean you suck too? Future Mordecai: Didn't you just hear us play? Future Rigby: Yeah, we're super-successful musicians in the future. Mordecai: Yeah, look at us, dude! We're wearing sunglasses! Future Mordecai: Our future's so bright, we gotta wear shades. Rigby: Awesome! Oh, hey - in the future, do we get that thing we always wanted? Future Rigby: Oh, we got it. (Pulls up shirt to reveal a biting shark tattoo on his armpit, which bites when he moves his arm) Rigby: Awesome! Mordecai: Oh, hey: in the future, do I get to go out with Margaret? Future Mordecai: Huh! (Suggestively) I wouldn't wanna ruin the surprise. Mordecai: Aww. Future Mordecai: Look. We promise we'll get you ready for tomorrow night's gig if you're willing to put in the work. Mordecai: Yeah, whatever it takes. Future Rigby: We said the same thing ten years ago. Mordecai and Rigby: Awesome! Future Mordecai: Let's rock! Future Mordecai: That's it. You're ready! Mordecai and Rigby: What? Mordecai: But we never learned how to play! Rigby: We haven't even picked up a guitar. Mordecai: Come on: we got the look, we've got the moves down, I know the lyrics backwards and forwards. Just teach us how to play! Future Mordecai: Woah, woah, woah! Don't worry. You know enough. You're gonna be fine! Besides, it's too late to teach you anything else. Gig's in 20 minutes. Mordecai: We're screwed. Angel: (sings) ... You're my sweet little baby, and I think I might be crazy for you... Benson: I can't believe they're gonna play tonight. Those two slackers have never even picked up an instrument. This is gonna be a trainwreck. Pops: Woo, I love trains! Angel: (sings) ... my sweet little baby, and I think I might be crazy for you. (song ends to wild applause. Rigby and Mordecai watch from behind a curtain) Rigby: Dang! Mordecai: Yeah. (Mordecai walks backstage, holding his stomach and groaning. Rigby picks up a box) Rigby: Should I hand out the last of the t-shirts? Mordecai: You brought the t-shirts?! Rigby: Yeah, for the fans. Mordecai: Dude, we don't even have any fans. (Grabs the box of t-shirts) Margaret: Oh, wow! You guys look like rock stars. Hey, can I have one of those? Mordecai: Uh, yeah... (chuckles nervously) Here's a small. Margaret: How do I look? Mordecai: (pause) Amazing. Margaret: I can hand these out for you guys. Get everyone pumped for the closing act. Mordecai and Rigby: Closing act?! Margaret: Yeah, save the best for last! Well, break a leg, guys. I can't wait. Announcer: (from through the curtain) And finally, give it up for Mordecai and the Rigbys! Yeah, come on! Future Mordecai: Sorry we're late. Mordecai: Where've you guys been?! Future Mordecai: We had to get you these (holds up glowing guitar picks with a lightning motif) Mordecai: Picks?! But we still don't even know how to play! Future Mordecai: Just go out there, you'll be great. Just like we were ten years ago. Mordecai: But... Future Mordecai: (shoving Mordecai and Rigby through the curtain) Crowd's waitin'! Go on! Mordecai: Uhh... Muscle Man: Come on, ladies, play us a tasty lick! Benson: Holy crap! Mordecai: Your eyes starin' into my eyes, who am I but a guy with two eyes on the prize, and the prize in my eyes is ten times the surprise in your eyes as I kiss you goodnight / The smile is the fire that lights my soul, gonna remember it until I grow old, cos life's too short, we've gotta do things right, so baby let's just party toni-ight / Baby, let's just party toni-ight! Mordecai: (yelling) Rigby! Mordecai: No! Augh! (Mordecai sees a CD player at the side of the stage. Future Mordecai and Rigby wave and play air-guitar. Mordecai rushes over and turns off the CD, and the crowd falls silent but for a few calls of "What?") Rigby: (still playing the unplugged electric guitar, badly) Uhuh! Yeah! Yeah, baby! Mordecai: You can stop now. Mordecai: Wait, wait. I can explain, I can explain! We were lip-synching. Mordecai: Hey, look, I don't blame you. We thought we could just order some t-shirts and pass ourselves off as a band. But it turns out playing music's really hard to do. We just got caught up in the dream, man. And just for a little while it was real. But that's over. And lip-synching's not cool. So we're breaking up the band. Future Mordecai: (runs onto the stage with Future Rigby) Why'd you stop? It was going great. Mordecai: You tricked us into lip-synching! Future Mordecai: Look. We've become rich and famous because of lip-synching. Don't you wanna be a part of that? Mordecai: (angry) No, that's lame! You may be me, but that's not the me I wanna be. Rigby: Me neither! Mordecai: Mordecai and the Rigbys is over. (The two take off their t-shirts. Future Mordecai and Future Rigby begin to fade from view) Future Mordecai and Future Rigby: Woah, woah! Future Mordecai: OK, dude! Think about what you're doing! Future Rigby: Yeah, stop, man! Future Mordecai: If you break up the band, what are we gonna do in the future?! Mordecai: I wouldn't wanna ruin the surprise. (Mordecai starts to rip the t-shirt) Future Mordecai and Future Rigby: Nooo! Benson: Yeah-heah! Alright! Rigby: I don't know why you thought this open mic would be embarrassing. This is awesome! Margaret: (waving through the crowd) Mordecai! Mordecai! Mordecai: (waving back and fighting through) Margaret! Margaret! Margaret! Margaret: Mordecai! Mordecai: Margaret! Margaret: That was pretty cool, what you said up there! Mordecai: Thanks, Margaret. Margaret: Oh, hey, have you met my new boyfriend, Angel? Angel: C'mon, baby. We don't wanna be late for our (sings) dinner reserva-ations! Margaret: Oh, yeah. See you, guys! Oh, Angel, you have such a great voice. Rigby: (pause) Maybe you should have just kept lip-synching.
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