Previously on Velma...
The last place my mom's cell phone pinged
the night she went missing was at Fred's house.
My name's Fred. Who are you?
They call me "The Thing."
Oh God, my heart!
Did that work?
Yeah.
Well, good luck finding your mom.
What the hell just happened?
So, yeah, let's do this.
I've avoided it long enough
with winks and nods.
Let's finally talk about only thing
you've ever really wanted to know about me.
- Is Velma Dinkley, ga--ga-- - Velma, snap out of it!
You fed the cat Sophie's prenatal vitamins.
Oh, sorry.
I was just thinking about mom, and only mom.
She disappeared at Fred's house. Bye.
Huh?
Norville.
Guess what Daphne gave me?
Uh, is it mononucleosis?
Because I saw you two kiss last night.
Daphne and me kiss, what? Her hands on my hips, what?
The heat of a thousand suns passing between us, what?
Time both infinite and finite-- Okay, we kissed. But it's not a big deal.
You possibly being gay is a huge deal.
For one, it reduces me to a cliched straight best friend.
Norville, we only kissed because Daphne was trying to stop a hallucination.
She gave me my mom's cold-case file. And guess what?
The last place her cellphone pinged, was Fred's house.
Wait, Fred. That's huge.
Though not, "you might be gay," huge.
Okay, stop.
In this day and age, you can't speculate
about someone's sexuality unless they're famous,
or Peppermint Patty.
Wait, you didn't tell anyone, did you?
Mazel on your first kiss, Velma.
- You told your dad? - He's a therapist.
I thought you might want to talk to someone
about whether you like women,
or maybe women and one cool guy?
Your dad is a high school guidance counselor,
the lowest form of therapist.
He's worse than the free therapy app I downloaded
that's obviously Russian spyware.
Okay, well, I think you're gonna have a little more respect
for my dad after this morning.
He's running a mental health assembly
to help students process the murders.
There's gonna be hella pamphlets.
Welcome, kids!
I'm Nutso, The Mental Health Squirrel.
Good morning, my students!
Good morning, Principal Rogers.
Good morning, Mom.
And now my turn.
Good morning, my students!
Good morning, Dad!
Good morning, my beautiful boy.
And welcome to the Crystal Cove High School
Mental Health Assembly.
How y'all doing, good?
Bad, you idiot!
Two of our friends had their brains removed by Fred Jones.
See, your dad is worse for teen mental health than waist trainers.
Well, you can talk to me about your feelings.
My dad says therapy is in my blood.
I just got my mom to admit she never wanted kids.
Norville, I don't need to talk to anyone about anything.
Oh, God. Daphne is looking right at me. Hide!
...comfortable opening up.
So in sum, you can't spell mental health without me.
You can't spell "Kill me," without me either.
Okay, okay. That's enough.
Unless someone has a topper?
No? Well, in addition to spending three minutes on mental health,
the school board is requiring that all girls attend
a women's self-defense class
to protect themselves from any future serial killers.
Uh, why don't the boys have to take a "Don't Murder Girls" class?
Because I only have $50 in the budget
to combat centuries of toxic masculinity.
Now, please welcome your women's self-defense class teachers.
Moms?
All right, ladies.
Who's ready to grab their friends
and roll around on the floor for a little bit?
So hot.
Oh, God. Get off your ass!
We're gonna talk to Fred about my missing mom right now.
Oh, give me one of those tattoos
that's actually secret clues about how to escape prison.
I learned how to do this while at Ole Miss.
I can do butterflies and Confederate flags.
Jones, there's, like, a talking meatloaf here to see you.
Velma?
Norville. How do I look?
Is it obvious I have two bean bags in my bra?
Wait. Are you still attracted to Fred?
He's a convicted serial killer who might be connected to your mom's disappearance.
That's why I'm so confused about Daphne.
Sure, she was my first kiss, but whenever I used to make out with my hand,
I called it Fred.
Okay, Velma, you have to talk about this with someone.
I don't have time.
I have to focus on finding out what happened to my mom.
So many mysteries, so little time.
- Daphne? - Maybe another kiss will help clear things up.
Muah!
Oh, God. I'm hallucinating.
Muah, muah, muah, muah, muah.
Hi.
Velma, what do I do?
Ah!
Should I kiss you like Daphne did?
Without consent, I'll remind you.
No, don't kiss me.
I'm already confused.
Kissing me would confuse you. Wait, why?
This isn't about you right now.
Just make me laugh like last time.
But a kiss might awaken passions we've been too scared to admit.
Why deprive ourselves that knowledge?
Oh, my God, that was hilarious.
Thank you, Nor--
Hey, get your friends off me.
Great, if I'm banned from prison,
how am I gonna question Fred about my mom's disappearance?
Let me question Fred. I have a plan.
You just need to figure out your feelings for Daphne.
Also, your bean bags are leaking.
Uh...
Okay, listen up.
These are the skills you need to survive.
When a massive, burly man springs up and attacks you,
notice, she said, when you get attacked, not if.
Don't fight.
Just make like a grown man who lightly stubbed his toe.
Yell, fall down, and go limp.
Now, to demonstrate.
We've pre-selected our own daughter, Daphne
to play the beautiful but vulnerable victim,
while the gruff assailant will be...
Ow.
- Velma. - Who's calling me gruff?
I'm not gruff.
Wait, I'm with Daphne.
Uh, I have to go to the bathroom.
Uh, me too.
- Hey. - Hey.
So, uh, this is so stupid, but before rolling around on each other,
I thought maybe we should
talk about our, uh, kiss.
Just in case you're confused.
I am.
I mean, hanging out and dealing drugs together yesterday
made me realize how much I've missed our friendship.
So I guess my question is, do you...
- like me? - Like you?
I haven't really thought about it.
You were dating Fred, until he went to prison.
Do you like me?
I asked you first.
Don't try to make me the vulnerable one here.
Well, I mean, you kissed me.
To stop your hallucination. But then you kissed me, like, whoa!
Well, then let's just say we kissed each other.
Even though we both know it was you who kissed me.
Which is impossible because I don't like you like that.
I like Fred.
Oh, good.
Because I don't like you like that either.
Perfect. We're on the same page.
Wow. I'm so glad we resolved all our issues
before we had to punch each other.
Me too.
And... Fight to see who's less vulnerable.
What the hell, Daphne?
If I was a real attacker, you could've hurt me.
You're supposed to go limp.
And potentially let myself get hurt by you instead?
My journal's not gonna believe this.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Cool it, ladies.
There is no room for personal beef in this class.
We are not here to attack each other.
- At least not until tomorrow. - Why?
What's tomorrow? Oh, no. Is it fajita day in the cafeteria?
Last year some kid lost an eye fighting for guac.
No, after mastering
today's self defense techniques, tomorrow you'll be competing
in the All Crystal Cove Women's Self Defense Class Tournament.
What? How will fighting girls help us defend ourselves against attacks from guys?
Is first prize a gun?
It is now. Great idea!
But the point of this is to determine
- who was the least vulnerable girl in school. - Ugh!
Okay, but...
is the best way to prevent an attacker really just to become one.
Works for Batman.
Good luck tomorrow, girls. And may the least vulnerable girl win.
Wait. You wanna give me therapy? I don't know.
Jones men normally bury their emotions until they explode on a family vacation,
Sure, but therapy isn't just a great way for therapists to remodel their kitchens.
It also helps people.
And I thought there might be some things in your past you'd want to discuss.
Like, how Father stood me up at my birthday party?
I tried to steer the hot air balloon myself, but I was only four.
Huh. Yeah, you think we should start there?
But I'd actually rather talk about moms.
Oh, I do miss my mom. Uh, prison is cool,
but nobody watches me pee quite like Mother.
Wow, another great place to start, but...
what do you think about Velma's mom?
Diya Dinkley, she went missing at your house.
Uh, you know, I think visiting time's over. I should go.
Everything okay over here, with the guy who put me in prison?
Look, pal. I don't want any problems.
I'm just talking to my friend on behalf of a female friend
who might become more than a friend if I play my cards right.
You're wasting your time, buddy.
Romantic relationships between old friends rarely work out.
It's always one-sided.
That's not true!
Ooh!
Uh-uh.
Okay, first girl to move the other off the mat advances. Ready?
I'm going to beat the Brazilian butt lift out of you.
You'll never undo the work of Dr. Gross.
I'm on the website.
And... Fight!
Whoo! Yes!
Pathetic.
Wow, I can't believe I was gonna fake a limp to get out of this.
- That's it. Go limp. - Wha...
Protect my butt. Please throw me on my face.
- Sorry, I can't tell which one's which. - Ah!
Where do you think you're going?
Kill her, honey. I mean, go sportsmanship!
Sportsmanship her up and teamwork out the pieces.
I am not vulnerable.
No one will ever hurt me.
So he pushed me, and I said classic transference.
and that's the last thing I remember.
Guess I'm not as great a therapist as I thought.
Norville, stop.
First rule of therapy, you are as great as you think you are.
Unfortunately, no one will ever take you seriously as a therapist
without this one little thing.
A PhD in psychology?
Please.
I never finished mine and literally no one's checked. No.
The only thing a therapist really needs is a good cardigan.
It makes you look so dumpy and non-threatening,
people instantly feel comfortable opening up to you.
How do I look?
Like I want to scream about how loud your mom chews.
Hey, it's working already. Hmm.
Daphne, this is ridiculous.
Are we really going to fight instead of just talking about what happened?
If memory serves, I asked you a question.
I'm still waiting for an answer.
Fine. I'll admit it.
I do like you like that.
What, are you scared of having feelings for a girl?
Velma, please. I have two moms.
I was baptized on the set of Ellen.
It's just I have a lot more at stake than you.
- Huh? - Uh.
Daphne. Why are you talking to that?
Oh, I get it. You have more at stake,
because I'm not as popular as you.
What? You're not popular at all.
Well, let's see how popular you are,
after I kick your perfect ass, Daphne,
Oh, I'll give you something to journal about.
Dear Diary, Gird your loins.
Wait, they pulled me out of mosque for you?
Yes. I thought we could continue your therapy.
What? No way. Why would I wanna--
Whoa, I feel funny.
Did they drug our food again?
Hmm.
So what were we talking about, Doc?
We were discussing your feelings
about the night Velma's mom, Diya, went missing.
Right, so Father had just bought our house.
It was a dump. And he had this brilliant idea to burn it for the insurance money.
But instead of fraud, you committed murder.
I wish. You can get over murder, but this could ruin a man.
I'll never tell.
So unflattering and disarming.
The truth is, on the night we were going to burn it down,
my father stood me up, just like on my birthday.
Only this time, Bill Gates didn't even jump out of a cake for me.
Wait, that's it? And that's worse than murder?
Oh, then some Indian lady pulled up.
Yes. Tell me about her.
Why, you into that? Respect.
- No. What was she doing there? - I don't know.
My dad told me never to pay attention to women over 35.
Okay. This is useless.
You clearly had nothing to do with Diya's kidnapping.
Sorry, Doc.
You're not getting out of here until you help me
with my passive aggression.
But if you really wanna leave, I guess I can just go suffer
with the other guys waiting to talk to you.
Oh!
Welcome fans of women's self-defense!
Now who's ready for some bone-crushing empowerment?
In one corner,
weighing in at 110 pounds,
and with a social media reach of 12,300,
Daphne, "the Ginger Jack-Hammer" Blake.
And in the other corner,
weighing in at "how-dare-you?"
And with a social media reach of,
"she says she's too good for it."
Velma, Indian middle name, Dinkley.
Yay...
Sit down.
Now let's find out which girl is less vulnerable.
Hydrate up. You're gonna need it when you're crying later.
Wow. I haven't seen someone this overly confident
since my moms on election day, 2016.
Really thought Jill Stein had it. Anyway. Fight!
Ah!
What?
How's your stomach so hard? Are you a robot?
Is that why you never shower after gym?
No, my stomach's like my lips,
soft, and a lot of weird noises come out of it.
What you felt was...
- Wait, that's my journal. - Yeah,
and I'm about to perform the audiobook.
With voices and everything, innit?
Velma, please don't do this.
You hurt me. I hurt you.
Hey, everyone. So you all think that Daphne is the perfect,
beautiful, girl-next-door, right?
Well, it's a lie.
According to her own journal,
Daphne is so messed up that she has a daily session
with our school guidance counselor, Lamont.
to discuss her issues.
Guys, come on.
I just made Daphne vulnerable. I win.
Now laugh as we watch her precious popularity fade away.
Why would we do that?
Mental health is no joke, no matter how lame Lamont is.
Yeah. No matter how lame I am.
Daphne, Daphne!
Oh, no.
Look, Velma, the only way you're going to avoid suspension
is if you apologize to Daphne.
I have to apologize?
She kicked me so hard, my tubes are now tied.
Yes, but you hurt her feelings, which is way worse these days.
Now, would you care to tell me why?
No way. And good luck trying to get in my head without your cardigan, sucker.
Yeah, Norville told me about your little trick.
Fine. I know I have to talk to someone
about my feelings for Daphne, but...
But my mom is the person I talk to when I'm confused.
and talking to anyone else feels like a betrayal,
like I'm admitting she's gone for good.
I see that, but hasn't not talking to someone else
gotten you even further from finding her.
Huh.
Okay. That feels smart, but it's coming from you so...
Yeah. No, I surprised myself there.
I'm really just supposed to talk to kids about college,
but my point is...
uh... uh... Nope. Lost it.
I think you meant that
by refusing to figure out my feelings for Daphne in the beginning,
I just made this whole mess with her instead.
That's it. You know, a smart girl like you
would be real Smith College material.
Okay, but do I still have to apologize to Daphne?
I only read her journal because she said she was too popular for me.
Up to you, Velma.
But sometimes when you're being attacked,
- the best thing to do is-- - Go limp.
You're right.
I was going to say go for the eyes!
So it looks like Fred
isn't connected to your mom's disappearance. Good news, right?
No, it's terrible news.
It means my big clue is a dead end, and Fred is probably innocent.
Yeah, but isn't it a little comforting
to see a rich white guy get wrongly convicted for once?
I'm too distracted to enjoy it.
I need to make things right with Daphne.
Wait for me, okay?
Unless you feel like getting me a snow cone and immediately coming back.
Sure. I don't have anything else scheduled for right now. Oh, crap!
Well, 10-minute rule. Norville is not coming.
Guess I'll have to channel my childhood trauma into becoming a lawyer
and helping my imprisoned brothers appeal their convictions.
No, nobody leaves.
Why does everyone think they can stand me up?
Okay. Riot it is.
Hmm.
What do you want, Velma?
I came to apologize.
I'm sorry I read your journal out loud to everyone in school.
- Velma. - Yes, I know, I know.
Now you want to apologize to me?
- For what? - For saying I'm not popular enough for you.
- I never said that. - Well, someone said it.
- You said it - And I meant it.
This has nothing to do with popularity, Velma.
Do you even know why I've been talking to Lamont?
No, honestly, I just flipped through your journal looking for sexy stuff.
Bit of a snooze, IMHO.
Okay, well, I'm talking to him
because searching for my birth parents
has brought up a lot of feelings of abandonment for me.
Oh.
I'm sorry.
- When my mom-- - Exactly.
When your mom went missing you abandoned me too.
What? Only after you got hot and ditched me.
That's not true. You shut me out first.
I shut everyone out. I still haven't seen my dentist,
nor do I intend to.
Okay, so maybe a little fault in our falling out lies with me?
And then we kissed, and it was amazing.
But you said you didn't like me like that and I freaked out.
'Cause I thought you're going to go away again.
So wait, is this an apology?
Well, do you like me?
You know I do.
But I'm also, kill me, super attracted to Fred.
Whoa! You do need therapy.
Honestly, I think what I really need is a friend.
Me, too.
But also,
- maybe a friend who fu-- - No.
Let's just keep it simple and try and be friends again.
Yeah, you're right.
I can only obsess over one woman at a time.
And right now it has to be my mom.
So should we hug it out?
Friends hug, boobs touch, no crotch.
Boobs touch, no crotch.
- Maybe, let's just shake. Yeah? - Yes, love a shake.
Just two friends, sharing a casual handshake.
Good night, friend.
Well, at least my hallucinations are back to normal.
What the hell, Norville? You're supposed to drive me home.
Now I have to walk.
I have literally never been madder.
Hi, Dad.
Son, I hate to say it, but you're not ready for the cardigan.
With medium power comes medium responsibility.
I know. I'm sorry.
Crystal Cove Insane Asylum?
Why is this in here?
What? Oh, that. I... I... I have a friend who works there.
Doctor... uh... Bad Excuse.
Hmm.
Why do you have this, Dad?
Son, there's something I need to tell you
about your mother.
Hey, stranger.
Look, a cabin.
We can ask directions to town.
Ask directions?
I thought your nickname was The Thief,
not The Puss.
Fine, suit yourselves.
Okay, now who has a phone so I can call my driver?
Oh, you guys want to use one of your drivers?
Freeze! Police!
Ah! Oh.
You'll never take me alive.
Whoa!
But why won't we take you alive, Fred?
Because I wanna look tough to impress my father.
Aw!
Go to bed.