- Citizens of Krapopolis,
I know that usually when I call a town meeting,
it's about how many people died or are going to die,
but today, I'm here to unveil the new Krapopolis flag.
And then afterwards, we'll do deaths.
As you can see, it is a bold cloth
dyed the color blue, which is the most expensive color
because of how many snails you have to grind up to make it.
These snails were from Crete.
Flags are a pretty new thing, so I'll walk you through it.
This flag means us, and then
we have to protect it with our lives.
Because if anyone takes it,
that means we've become their prisoners.
That's just how flags work apparently.
I'm still learning about them myself.
OK.
I enjoy applause as much as the next king,
but I also know the difference between real applause
and the perfunctory kind.
And why are there so few people here in the first place?
- Oh, mother, you are my mother,
and I am a boy named Alexander, not Tobias the Bricklayer.
- Oh, son, I am your mother, a woman named Claire,
not Nico who milks goats.
- Why are they doing this? That's Nico.
We can all see it's Nico. - Shh.
- Mother, I am hungry.
I say this as Alexander the boy.
Tobias has already eaten.
- This is the coolest thing I've ever seen.
- Here is some bread to eat. My hands are not empty.
They're holding bread. I am a 30-year-old woman.
- I'm sorry, what are we watching?
- It's a brand new art form I came up with.
I call it a play.
- The opposite of work.
- I am fed, once again as Alexander.
- And I am happy as Claire, even though you all know
I just lost my son in real life.
- He did lose his son. It's true.
- Craig, what can I even say?
That was amazing. - Oh, thank you.
Cool idea, right? - Very cool idea.
How did you get it? I mean, where did it come from?
How— how did you do that? - I don't know, I got inspired.
- Wait a minute.
When you say inspired, do you mean the idea
just came to you out of nowhere?
- Yeah.
- And you felt compelled to just drop everything
and pursue it and couldn't have let it go,
even if you had wanted to? - Yeah, I guess.
- Run. - Run?
Because a citizen was inspired? - By muses.
- Oh, no.
Protect the flag. Protect the flag.
- Get out. Shoo.
Make it go towards the window. - All right. Everybody relax.
Science to the rescue. - We're relaxed.
- This will keep them from getting in our heads
and giving us ideas we wouldn't normally have.
Muses hate copper. - Everyone does.
Top five worst metals, easy.
- This'll buy me a little time to come up with
a more permanent solution.
- I don't see why getting good ideas
is such a big problem.
- Who said anything about good ideas?
Most ideas are terrible.
- Anything that takes one's mind off sex
is automatically suspect in my book, my sex book.
It's a book about sexual philosophy.
It's a very sexy book. - You know what?
I'm sorry, what is going on up here?
- Right? OK, thank you.
Thought I was going crazy.
- Yeah, I wasn't going to say anything.
Is this a bit or—
- I have neither the faintest nor foggiest idea
what any of you are saying.
- Nor have I, nor has any one of us,
yourselves included. Most of all, in fact.
- Uh, all right.
- Also, we live in a society now.
Some people need to be milking cows,
not suddenly dropping the udder to start a modeling career.
Puts the city at risk.
- Hey, watch this. Watch. OK. Wait.
Wait, hold on. OK. See if I—
if I just do— OK. Here we go. Here we go.
OK, I got to keep them up in the air.
- Right, see?
Now we've lost the server for the afternoon.
- And that's the least of it.
Muses do this so they can consume our resources
while we're distracted. They destroy cities.
- So what do we do?
- Well, if my calculations are correct,
it should be possible to catch and contain a muse.
- Go, get out of here.
- This means something.
- Ah!
- Off, sound off.
What's the command? Is there a command?
I mean, there should be a command.
Have you seen my husband?
Do you know anything about this?
- May I speak?
- Well, unless there's another way of answering my question.
No, speak, don't sing.
- You're sure this will work? - Oh, yeah.
These headbands are pure copper,
and muses cannot resist this bait.
Deploy couple on third date.
- So...
- Here they come. This is it.
Sealing exits.
- We should spend our lives together.
- I want to travel the world, on my own.
- Now!
- Keep paddling, Stupe.
- Wait a minute, I got an idea.
- What are you doing?
- What if we built a big house for the muses,
like a nest where they could live and be comfortable?
Maybe bring food to them. - Ty, she's been inspired.
- Sorry. - That's all right, Stupendous.
It obviously wasn't your fault.
- I do still think we should build them that house though.
- Of course, you do.
- A metamorphosis? Were you going to tell me?
- Well, it's only once every 1,000 years.
- Well, it seems like plenty of time to tell me.
- Who told you? I'll tear them apart.
- Shlub, I get it.
You think I won't be attracted to you during your process,
which is not unreasonable for you to think
given what I've been told.
But as it happens, the only part
I find unattractive is you worrying
about being unattractive.
That's not the Shlub I love and desire.
- And who said I was worried about being unattractive?
To be perfectly frank, the situation I wanted
to avoid was precisely this.
I'm far less attracted to you when you're pitying me.
- I don't know if I've ever heard you express
such a thing, less attracted to me?
- I'm sorry, my darling, it's just not the Deliria
I lie in sexual wait for, like a jungle cat
stalking another yet even bigger jungle cat,
except sexually. - Well, in that case, go.
Metamorphose in private to your heart's content
and know that your devastating wife
is absolutely without pity for you while you do.
Molve? Uh, jolve?
ba— ba— ball— ballve.
- Oh, they look mad. - Yeah.
Well, we captured them and have basically
been torturing them, so— - What's this about torturing?
I'm not sure I—
- Now that we've got them contained,
I've developed a way to filter their inspiration.
Nothing but good ideas. Check this out.
- Oh, hey, Gary.
I thought you got killed in battle.
- Oh, no, I was— I was able to get my brains back in,
except for the part that the dog ate,
and the parts the ants carried off.
So I'm working for your brother now.
- Right on. Very cool. - Ready?
- All right, here we go.
Head, head.
Brain, brain.
Brain skull cover—
you could cover soldier skulls with metal.
- So the enemy would have to break two things
to get the brains out. Interesting.
Oh, wait, that's helmets.
- But still not terrible for someone with his brains
all over the place.
- This could be the thing that gives Krapopolis
the edge over all other cities. - So what do you say?
Are we gonna huff these bodily fluids or what?
- A physical fitness regimen
could keep an army ready for battle,
even when they're not in battle.
Huh?
Whoa!
Drawings can be simplified into standard shapes.
The shapes could represent words.
No! They could represent sounds.
That's how you do a written language.
OK, OK, this is good.
It looks like a plan for governance,
representatives voting. I like it.
And where do I sit in all this? Are you serious?
- What was your inspiration? - Oh, nothing.
I mean, it'll be very useful, but not—
you know, no big deal. - All right.
Well, I'm excited to go work on my thing.
- Yeah, me too. You coming, Ty?
- Hm? Yes, in just a bit.
You go ahead.
There could be several branches of government
so as to counter each other so that no single one of them
becomes too powerful. Oh, come on, this is stupid.
This is a stupid invention.
- Let's try this again.
Before arresting someone, it should be upon us
to make sure the criminal knows
they have the right not to tell us
whether they're guilty. Oh, what's going on here?
Why is all my inspiration about leaders not mattering anymore?
Can I get an idea that doesn't put me out of a job?
Hey, nobody asked
for our opinion, but we could have some insight about that.
We've been inspiring people for a pretty long time.
- You can talk?
- Hm?
Deliria?
- Shlub.
- Thank goodness I was here.
You're in no shape to defend yourself.
- I believe that is part of the appeal.
I'm incredibly tender.
My meat falls right off the bone.
Predators can smell my molting from a mile away.
But what are you doing here?
I thought we had agreed.
- I'm so sorry for stalking you,
but I've decided you can't be entirely trusted
to call your own shots during this process.
After all, as you've just demonstrated,
you'd literally die before accepting pity,
which is a risk you're not allowed to take
because it intrudes on my right to keep you alive.
- Well, I'm in no position to disagree.
So as long as it's what you really want to do,
you're welcome to stay here and protect me.
But fair warning, it gets gross.
Ah, mind the waspephants, my dear.
It makes perfect sense.
Maybe a scientist or a warrior can make do
with some watered down version of what we do.
But for an idea that will inspire a king,
you need the real deal. - I knew it.
I knew it wasn't something wrong about me.
- Remove the filter. You're clearly a great mind.
You can handle the pure stuff. - Wait a minute.
You're not just trying to get in my head
so you can make me let you go or something?
Oh, wow, no, if only.
No, we don't want to make you feel stupid.
Not everyone knows all the muse rules,
but we can't make you do anything.
All we can do is inspire,
whether that makes you build a utopia
or kill your siblings is entirely up to you.
- Well, here's hoping it's the former.
At what point do they let up?
- I wish I could say, but I'm afraid my memory
is fading, another unpleasant side effect
of the metamorphosis.
It is possible I'll forget who you are.
- Forget who I am? - Yes.
And if that happens, there's no guarantee
I'll have precisely the same feelings for you,
or any at all as a matter of fact.
- Well, that is a complication, isn't it?
- Indeed.
But before I forget, I should warn you
that in the final molting stages,
I will emit an odor that all magical beasts
will smell, and all will wish to feast upon my pupal form.
It does rather attract a higher order
of cosmic bogans. - Oh, I'm fine with that.
But to clarify, you will, of course,
eventually be back to your old self?
- In other words, you want to know if all this
is gonna be worth it— the body horror,
the beasts, and the bogans. - I suppose so, yes.
- That's a very crucial question.
I regret to inform you that I have forgotten the answer.
The good news is, you're a sexy thing,
aren't you?
Perhaps we can get to know each other.
What's your name?
- Hm.
- Um, what are you doing, Ty? - Oh.
Hello, you're just in time.
I came up with this incredible idea,
just really amazing. - OK.
- Ready? This.
- No!
- Oh, my God, I just realized something.
My entire life has been a work of art,
and I finally know how to finish it.
I'm beautiful.
- When you got it, you got it.
- I call this painting "Pomegranate Man."
- Makes you think, doesn't it?
- Hm.
- I'm a comment on rampant consumerism.
Mmm.
- On the plus side, some of these deaths
are absolutely gorgeous. - Yeah.
I've seen a lot of guys die, and none of them
were as thought provoking as this.
- Did you see "Pomegranate Man"?
- Yeah, you know, I actually found that one disappointing.
- You did? - But wait a minute.
Ty, why did you do this?
How could you let them play you like this?
- I just kept getting these visions
of how unnecessary I was and how the best thing
I could do was make myself even more unnecessary.
I guess I wanted to prove that there was a role for me.
- Why didn't you tell us? - I was ashamed.
- Wait a minute, shame.
The opposite of inspiration is humiliation.
- Oh, yeah, like in the legend of Inspo and Humil?
The whole point of that famous parable
is Inspo and Humil are opposites.
- That's it. That's how we'll beat them.
And by the way, "Pomegranate Man"
was brilliant. You're crazy.
[creatures shrieking
- All right, you don't know who I am,
but you're still the mantitaur I know,
whether you like it or not. None of this is sexy or fun.
Well, not none, the memory part has potential.
But either way, I find I am here for it,
even the bad part.
- Marvelous, because here that comes now.
- Ugh, well, all right.
We'll just— - Mama.
- Oh, God.
- Do I really need to be on your back?
It doesn't feel especially heroic.
- No time. They've spotted us.
Go! Go! - OK. Let's see.
- Now, Ty, now.
- I'm— I'm terrified of failure.
I'm— I'm afraid I won't be able
to do what anyone wants of me.
- That's what I'm talking about.
- More, Ty, more shame.
- I hear myself speaking sometimes,
and I just hear it how other people must be hearing it,
and I want to fold into the tiniest ball of nothing
and just cease to exist.
- You're doing it, you pathetic idiot.
- You know— - Keep going.
- Uh, um...
I tell myself I want to find the perfect person
to spend my life with, which, ironically enough,
if I'm being honest, it's basically
mom and dad, what they have.
- But if I'm really being honest—
- I'm not sure I even do care about finding
the right person. - No.
- Maybe what I really want is for someone
to be dropped into my lap, someone—
- Mama! - Anyone...
- Get away from my baby husband.
- And be with her forever, no matter how we change.
- Mama! - Oh. I'm here, love.
- Even if it would make neither of us happy,
even if we knew it was going to make
both of our lives worse in almost every way.
- Mama!
- Because if I'm being honest, the bottom line is,
I'm just terrified of being alone.
- Mama.
- There, there, little one, you're safe now.
- OK, just one left.
- Hit it with some real nasty shame.
- Yes, I've got shame in spades.
I tell, you I am—
wait, did you just get proud about shame?
- No, I—
well, I guess I do have a knack for it.
You people have made me mad.
You could douse yourself in copper sauce,
and I would still pick you down to the bones.
- That doesn't sound good. - Copper sauce?
- I got this. - Ty, no.
- Don't worry, I have an idea.
Or rather, I don't. - Huh?
Let me ask you something.
Aren't you a little tired of having your whole thing
be in service to other people?
I ask because I relate.
Don't you think you could market this?
Why don't you just withhold inspiration
most of the time and only give it to the people
who are the most grateful for it?
That way, you can make a name for yourself
and have leverage over humanity.
All the credit, they'll always give the credit
and none of the blame.
You can even ask them for things in exchange.
Let them do the work.
- You know what?
That is the least inspired, most obvious,
best idea I've ever heard.
It makes total sense.
I could be loved by true artists
and poets, visionaries.
You're a lifesaver, chief. Peace out.
- Wow, what do you know?
- All hail Tyrannis, the patron saint
of mitigation, and compromise, and second guessing.
- Heh, all right.
- Well, this all seems to have worked
itself out without much trouble?
- Sure, and yours as well.
Actually, what was yours exactly?
- Your father's metamorphosis.
- You look— uh...
- I don't know that I'd say it went well.
He did survive it, and he seems to remember me again at least.
You do, yes? Somewhat?
- Oh, quite a bit, my darling, quite a bit indeed.
- But I became a mother figure, and we bonded,
so we're never going to have sex again.
- Oh, you hate to see it. - End of an era.
- A real shame. - Yes.
It was so unsettlingly intimate,
it almost looped back around into being sexual again.
- It did, didn't it? - You tell me, mother.
- How did it get grosser?
- You know, in a way, I'm glad this happened.
The business with the muses, it—
it was a lesson we needed. - I agree completely.
My scientific brain just wanted to control creativity,
which ultimately should never be controlled.
- Yeah. - You learn some things too?
- Oh, yes, of course.
But I— I guess what I'm saying is,
this is a good thing. No. You know what?
It's a great thing. - I agree. I do.
It did end up working out.
- It sure did.
Do you think I need to make a speech?
Do they expect that, do you think?
- No, they're— they're busy. - Yeah, of course.
Carry on. Don't mind us.
- Did you get any of that?
- Bento.