Three weeks earlier.
Huh?
You know sometimes a movie or a show
begins on a random, intriguing scene with no context given,
encouraging you to wonder,
"Whoa! How'd this crazy scenario come to be,"
and then it cuts to black and a title comes up
that says, "Three weeks earlier?"
Uh-huh. ABED: Here we are,
sitting in silence, crammed into an RV,
winding through the mountain roads of Colorado
with a 19-foot fiber glass hand tied to the roof.
If there was ever a time to cut to three weeks earlier, it would be right now.
You know what I mean?
Elroy, you got any booze?
Don't go through my stuff. This isn't a bus.
You're standing in my living room, kitchen, and bedroom.
Ooh, I never thought about that.
And your backyard is 24,900 miles long.
Because it's the circumference of the Earth.
Because you... have no home.
Does anyone need water? What else should we talk about?
I guess to make it really intriguing,
one of us should be visibly injured in a way
that makes you wonder how it happened.
Like if Britta had a black eye.
Dean...
can I speak to you privately?
I'm pretty sure the answer is no.
I'm coming up.
You know, when I agreed to haul this thing
for you and the school,
you didn't say anything about six people sitting back there.
Man, I wonder what they're talking about.
God, who knows?
They're sealed off behind this soundproof vinyl.
I will drive my house off a cliff.
Elroy, we're not here to snoop or judge you.
You're not the first person to have dirty dishes,
CD-ROM porn,
and framed photos of yourself
with two bi-racial teenagers in a park.
It's not that.
All this weight.
I may have...
miscalculated the mileage.
Darn it. I want to hijack this RV,
but I'm foiled by its impenetrable post-2001 security measures.
You keep driving and nobody else
needs to know about this, understand?
The last thing we need is a panic.
What's going on? Are we out of gas?
Yes! It's on empty! It's on empty!
Never seen anything like it. The needle is invisible.
Oh, my God.
There's no needle. It's gone. It's underneath the plastic.
Or maybe the engine tried to use it as fuel.
Oh, stop yelling! Well, stop being out of gas!
You're freaking me out!
You should be freaking out. I have been driving for 25 years
and I have never seen so little gas in my life.
Stop, stop!
I'm yelling even louder,
so you have to stop!
We're not in control of the gas, okay?
We have to focus on what we can control.
Is everyone's phone charged?
Yes, charge your phones! Good idea. Smart thinking.
Okay. Okay, see?
We turn panic into preparedness.
Now, if we do run out of gas,
guess who's got fully charged phones?
- Well charged. - Full battery.
For the love of God, stop charging your phones!
Excuse me a moment.
What happened? I'm not telling you!
Fair enough.
We're all gonna die.
♪ Give me some rope Tie me to dream
♪ Give me the hope to run out of steam
♪ Somebody said it can be here
♪ We could be roped up, tied up, dead in a year
♪ I can't count the reasons I should stay
♪ One by one they all just fade away ♪
All in favor?
Then that solves the matter of the giant hand.
If there's no other business...
Yes, I'd like to move that we establish this moment
as the opening for a flashback.
No, meeting adjourned.
Oh, I guess we're not doing the "three weeks earlier" thing.
Abed, insert dialogue here about you dropping
the fourth wall shtick. Nice.
Careful you don't flood it.
That's the fifth time you've reminded me not to flood something.
I'm sorry, but it doesn't apply to our situation.
I'm going to check the battery.
Can you send someone or not?
Can you please hold? No, I can't hold.
Darn it.
When they put you on hold, you hang up,
and you call right back.
Frankie taught me that.
Hi, it's me.
Yeah, the one you put on hold.
See where that got you?
- Can you send somebody or not? - Please hold.
Don't you dare.
When they put you on hold, hang up, and call right back.
I can play this game all day.
I told you we need roadside service on...
Can you please hold?
Oh, you can't be serious.
Well, hello! Guess who?
I got nothing but fingers and time, pal.
Roadside service, Moffitt Pass.
Well, you could've told me that an hour ago.
Your RV is full of crazy ladies.
Good-bye.
Have any of you heard of Armed Forces Day?
Because apparently it's today
and it's really boning us.
Yeah, here it is.
Armed Forces Day, huh.
Why would they put it in May?
It's just sitting there in Memorial Day's shadow
like a military Hanukkah.
Fitting that both war holidays
have to fight each other over the same month.
Notable that the one we remember is the one with the theme of memory.
Way to make this about justifying
your unmarketable sensibility.
Well, apparently, Armed Forces Day
is the big one for tow truck drivers
because there are three within 200 miles of this spot
and they're all in the same parade.
Maybe it'll come by this way
if we offer them...
instruments?
Nobody re-routes parades.
They re-routed Kennedy's parade.
So, we'll just call the CIA, tell them we want to assassinate the President,
and we'll be home in time for Wheel of Fortune.
Who are we kidding? That'll never work.
We got Britta'd.
Yes, I use it too.
I don't want anybody here blaming themselves for this.
I want everyone blaming Frankie.
What? Me?
That's stupid. She is the reason we are here.
This is what happens
when you make decisions outside the moment.
Whatever moment you were in the day
you got on the internet and bought a gigantic hand,
I am proud to remain outside until I die.
You will, baby.
And this is where logic gets you.
Stuck in a rocky mountain pass at sundown,
gradually freezing to death
and forced to decide somewhere...
in the backs of our heads, just in case,
who we'd eat first. Annie, right?
What? It's not a judgment.
It's about biology. What?
Craig...
the hand currently crushing our lives
is not about being in the moment.
You bought this thing we can't return with money
we don't have, nobody knows why,
and your latest idea is to put it on the quad
with a plaque that says, "Give a hand to your brain."
Give your brain a hand.
You're making it sound stupid on purpose. It's over, Craig.
You are lucky to have Frankie.
And you're lucky she was able to find some weirdo...
excuse me...
bigger weirdo on eBay willing to pay cash for it.
This is a lot of narrative pipe.
Maybe we didn't need a "three weeks earlier" flashback.
Abed, is this a show?
I thought you said you knew it wasn't a TV show.
Season two, you mean? I don't know.
- I can change my mind. - Well, can I ask
that it not be a show about you saying it's a show? Because dumb.
You're dumb.
Go in the back.
Go in the back and sit by yourself.
Jeff! PELTON: What are you doing?
What is wrong with you?
I'm sick of it. It's a show.
It's not a show. It's your show. It's my show.
It's a good show. It's a bad show. I am sick of it.
I don't want to hear the word show again.
Show, show, show. Is it a show? Show, show?
So, now it's a show about this?
Oh, you're right. That's way worse. Abed, come back.
Yes. PELTON: Abed, some back.
I'm not sorry. It's not good to be back.
What the hell was that?
The battery is dead.
Oh. Flooded?
Winger, so help me God.
The RV has two batteries, a primary
- and a secondary... - Secondary.
We overloaded the electrical system
and killed the engine battery.
So, now the secondary battery
has maybe three or four hours of juice...
Charge. Juice charge.
And we have a choice to make.
And Jeff can explain that choice. Oh, it's your RV.
This is my show. You didn't give a damn about that.
Abed, we're all on your side.
So, if you're also on your side, it's petty.
We could wait for a couple of hours and hope that
the engine battery resets itself.
If it doesn't, we're spending the night here.
And at least we have the secondary battery
to keep us warm for a few hours.
No, no, no, we're not spending the night here. So what's the second option?
Which I am nicknaming "lil' course of action."
I rewire the secondary battery to the engine
and hope it can start it.
If it doesn't, we're spending a very cold night
with two dead batteries.
Okay, let's switch the batteries then. Good democracy.
Are we sure the secondary battery won't just die, too?
It's a possibility.
It exists.
But I'm pretty confident because the secondary battery
only powers the cabin.
And we've kept the lights off,
and it goes without saying
that we've all learned to stop charging our phones.
Why are you all looking at each other like that?
And where are each of your phones, now?
You know, I'm starting to suspect the unthinkable.
Namely that in spite of all we've experienced,
there's a cartoonish, vampiric orgy of personal devices
somewhere in the RV sucking away our remaining battery.
I only draw limited comfort
from the fact that nobody's running to unplug anything.
But you know what?
Say nothing.
I'll just...
turn the light switch to the on position.
There is a bright side to this.
Most conventional weapons don't require electricity.
Are you going to eat me first?
Hear those crickets?
This would be a challenging place
to practice your stand-up act.
So, I rented Hotel Rwanda the other night, and let me just say...
not a date movie.
What would Arnold Schwarzenegger sound like
if he was bit by Dracula?
All in favor?
Then that solves the matter of the giant hand.
If there's no other business...
If we're doing this, I'd like to re-state the importance
of telling some of this story with flashback.
What do you mean by re-state?
Oh, my God, I fell for it. Meeting adjourned.
Why do we call them elbows?
Why not arm knees?
Man, I am dying up here.
I'm scaling the blanket rations inversely to the wattage
of each person's phone.
That way the person who killed us the most will die the soonest.
Which feels fair,
right, Britta?
I can't go all night being this angry.
Heart attacks run in my family,
and you people aren't worth it.
- I'm sorry. - It's okay.
I caused the situation by not topping off the tank.
And that vinyl accordion partition...
is a totem of distrust.
I'm sorry for that, too. Aw.
Elroy, that's big of you.
And for our part, we're sorry
that charging our perfectly normal cell phones
destroyed your weirdly fragile RV.
Okay, I'm sorry about that apology.
I'll try to be a better house guest.
No.
Sorry I've been unavailable.
I've been trying to cut to three weeks earlier.
It really feels like we needed that.
I have something to apologize for, as well.
Perhaps you recall earlier
when it seemed as though we drove through a skunk patch.
Yeah, you were getting high. Yeah, you were smoking pot.
- Yeah, you were getting high. - Getting stoned.
Oh, okay, I remember thinking,
I really pulled that one off.
You thought that because you were high.
You also thought that we were speeding
'cause you kept seeing the same bird.
All in favor?
Then that solves the matter of the giant hand.
If there's no other business...
Let me just explain the need for a flashback here, and don't interrupt.
Okay, one quick thing and then you can talk about flashbacks forever.
Meeting adjourned.
Abed, when they cut to three weeks earlier on TV,
they're not traveling in time, dip-ass. Jeff.
Okay, my apology now.
I've had some time to think about it,
and I've decided...
I'm sorry for not asking people what they wanted
before buying all the snacks for the trip.
Wow, really? That's great.
What? Think about it.
It's the worst thing I've done on this trip.
I've been nailing it.
She has.
You have.
I haven't been.
And I shouldn't be yelling at the Dean in front of any of you.
It's unprofessional.
Ah, you're all right, Frankie. We got no complaints.
I forgive all of you.
What?
Then that solves the matter of the giant hand.
If there's no other business...
In a normal road trip story the first act
would end with us deciding to go on the trip,
the second act would be the trip ending with a disaster,
and the third act would be us getting back.
The problem is, we've already decided
to take this trip weeks from now.
Which means the story starts with us already on the road.
Which means the end of act one won't be us going on the trip.
It'll have to be the disaster.
Which means something even worse has to happen in act two.
Unless we make the decision right now
that act one is a flashback
so that the beginning of the story is now instead of then.
You forgive us?
Absolutely.
You turd.
I beg your pardon?
Guys? You have no sense of accountability.
You're like a child.
Well, if I'm a child, you're a child abuser.
Nuh-uh, not cool, Annie.
You never just said leave my hand where it is.
I like it there. I demand it stay.
Because everyone complained about it.
Well, where's that commitment to spinelessness
when we're all admitting we did stuff wrong?
Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
I'm a bad Dean, okay?
No, that's what you always do. That's not a real apology.
Um, Jeff. Abed, shut up. Go flashback
and cut to stuff.
And you, say you're sorry for buying a giant hand
and letting it sit around until we had to deal with it.
- And say it without crying. - No!
I'm an adult!
And you can't make me not cry.
You're all a bunch of bullies.
And I will say I'm sorry however I want.
And by the way...
I'm not sorry.
It's my giant hand, and I love it! We're not selling it!
Okay, this is like crate-training a puppy.
Everyone suppress every instinct you have
to let him out and sleep in bed with us.
Cold.
No, I mean it's cold in the RV.
I don't care how we treat the Dean tonight.
Abed, don't go after...
Did they send you out here to be mean to me, too?
No. Good.
Because I can't cry anymore
unless someone brings me a Pedialyte.
Here.
Pretty comforting, huh?
We could've put it outside the art department.
Or biology.
Or woodworking if we removed one of the fingers.
You don't belong up here. It's not right that you're up here.
You get it don't you, Abed?
You know what's important about the hand.
No, I know what's important about story
and I know we're structurally overdue for a disaster.
Oh, great.
Figures, the one person on my side
is the one playing people chess.
Don't move. Don't move.
What the hell else are we supposed to do?
Flashback with me. What?
Just trust me. I set a flashback
three weeks earlier. It's how this story begins.
Close your eyes and concentrate.
And that solves the matter of the giant hand.
If there's no other business...
- Oh, there's some business. - Yeah, there's business.
When we tie the hand to the roof,
we'd like you to use extra thick straps, please.
Extra thick.
Extra thick straps! Reinforced.
All right, meeting adjourned, great.
Extra thick straps.
There, that should do it.
What should do it?
We made sure the straps were extra thick, remember?
No, I don't remember because it didn't happen.
It didn't?
What?
Did something just fall off the roof?
That's a really stupid question, Annie.
Obviously something fell off the roof. The question is what?
Abed, where's the Dean?
Oh, damn, come on.
Okay. One, two, three.
Carefully, carefully!
How do you lift a giant hand off a person haphazardly?
You know what, Annie! No!
Sorry. Dean, hang on.
Dean, we're so sorry. We love you.
- Screw you! - What?
Hey, that's my house.
We are not sorry. We hate you!
Are we gonna freeze to death?
I call the hand.
The fiber glass will preserve body heat.
What's wrong with me if that's hot?
Dean, these temperatures are lowering our immune systems
in a world that's swarming with weird people's unvaccinated toddlers!
Deal with it.
I'm gonna go around to the other side
to see if he's locked that door, too.
It probably undercuts my goals to announce them out loud.
But I'm a verbal thinker.
I'm not even sure I have an idea until I say it.
They should make hiking boots
with a compass in the toe.
Go! But don't you...
Dean, we're sorry and we love you?
Nice uncontrollable question mark, Britta.
You can't even fake it?
Dean, we're sorry and we love you.
Super realistic, Annie.
You're a real sociopath.
I saw all your true colors when the chips were down.
Abed's the only human among you.
And I think we all know how ironic that is.
No offense, Abed. None possible.
Abed.
You bonded with him. Talk to him.
You're alone in the end zone.
This ball is yours or nobody's.
I appreciate your appeal to my well-known passion
for athletics and sarcasm.
But I didn't actually bond with him. I almost killed him.
My naive obsession with contrived flashback technique
has kept me from being invested
in any of this actual story.
I mean, what was it even?
A bunch of people in an RV?
And I had to Christopher Nolan it?
Well, there you go.
Now you can forget all about
stupid three weeks earlier flashbacks and be a hero
by joining us here, in the moment.
And talking to the Dean like a human.
That's my arc. That's your arc.
Okay, here we go.
If there's no other business...
I'd like to propose a heavy use of flashback in this episode.
No, Abed, don't do it. Thanks, Abed!
Stop that!
Get your head out of your ass.
I don't know how. I'm over-saturated with the gimmick.
I... I don't know what's real. I don't...
You are lying. You have to be lying. You enjoy this.
Stop it. What has gotten into you?
Why are you shocked that he's alienated?
You get him to do something normal without abusing him.
Abed, listen.
This is a flashback, remember?
The real story is happening in the future.
You actually flashed back to now to help us.
Okay, that was pretty good.
So sad what happened here, all those centons ago.
So sad. So preventable.
Space elder, Abed, can you reach backward with your mind
and save our species?
I can.
I'm space elder Britta.
What are you guys talking about?
I'm here now, child.
All will be made right.
Dean? PELTON: Abed?
I have discovered the meaning of the giant hand.
A hand has two functions, to grip and to release.
But without both of these powers, it is useless.
Like newborn infants, we grab what comes near us
hoping to control it, taste it,
jam it into another child's eye.
But the time we spend in control of our world
is the time we spend letting go of others.
Ideas, stories, pride,
girls in soft sweaters, video games, buttered noodles.
Grip one for too long
and you lose so much that you've never held.
This giant hand was sent to all of us
as an invitation
to increase our mastery over the power to hold on.
And let go.
Sorry.
Oh, Dean.
Dummy.
The doors were locked on that side, too.
Took you long enough.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't poop.
Could you lie, then?
Sure I can.
I slapped you, man.
Where were you?
The reason why I'm covered in feathers is because...
Hi, this is Blake,
the gentleman to whom you're selling the giant hand.
I am calling to confirm that you have the correct address.
We live at the end of a long driveway
which often gets confused with a road.
Anyway, it's been many hours
since our scheduled appointment time.
Again, it's Blake with a B.
The purchaser of the giant hand.
Bye.
They're not coming, are they?
I don't know, Karen. I left a message.
What are you gonna do when...
What am I gonna do with the giant watch?
I don't know. I... I don't plan for failure.
Have you tried planning for success?
Does everything you do to this family have...
No, finish your thought.
Finish your thought.
Does everything have to do with me purchasing
over-sized items on the internet?
But that's not what this is really about, is it?
It's not about a giant hand or a giant watch.
Please, don't. It's about a normal-sized son
who disappeared,
and it's all my fault
because I gave him a giant kite!
Yes! How could you not make that connection?
Why do you continue to buy giant-sized versions
of everyday objects
when they are the reason our son is dead?
Disappeared!
Disappeared.
They never found his body on the ground,
which proves he's still up there, waiting.
He's waiting for a better daddy,
with a bigger hand.
Oh.
Really?
So, then why the watch?
I thought it would look really cool.
I'm gonna walk the dog,
and eventually leave you.
I'll put the watch in the garage.
And probably stop showering.