The Venture Bros.: Radiant is the Blood of the Baboon Heart

I'm in. We're on site.

Affirmative, Pony Boy.

We've got a lock on the target's cellphone

20 meters northwest of you.

I don't like it.

He's been a ghost for three days,

and suddenly we get a ping?

Hunter: Maybe he couldn't find his charger.

Alright, team. Eyes open!

This could be a trap.

[ Monitor beeping, keyboard clacking ]

Ugh. Why do they always have to be "pre-dawn," these raids?

I mean, what's wrong with a nice pre-noon raid?

Like a brunch raid?

Oh, no.

Hank?

Buddy?

Agh! The hell you people doin'?!

Tryin' ta sleep!

Negative. It's not him.

It ain't Hank.

It's not him. It's not him.

Told you this was a waste of time.

Ugh! What would Hank be doing in Queens anyway?

Nobody goes to Queens.

I-I live in Queens.

My point exactly.

Cut the chatter, you two!

Yeah, dad, shh!

Shush me.

Give. That's mine!

[ Snorts, speaking indistinctly ]

Where'd you get this?

B-Batman gave it to me! Give it!

Where is he? Where is Hank Ven--

Samson! Something big just went kablooey five blocks south.

Heat signature's off the charts.

Pull your team and check it out!

Alright, you heard the man!

Let's pull out, people! Move, move!

Where are they going? W-what about Hank?

Ugh...

Can't believe I got up early for this.

Doc: No! Absolutely not!

You people broke into my home, kidnapped me,

dragged me to your Honeycomb Hideout.

And now you want, what? My blood?

It's just a little cheek swab.

Two seconds and I'll be outta your...

b-business.

Well, you're not getting a swab,

so I guess our business is done here.

Now if you'll excuse me, I've a very important product

launch to prepare for, and my morning's

already been shot to hell.

Don't you understand?

We need to determine conclusively whether you

and The Monarch are related.

What? Are you making your Christmas card list?

Why should I care if your husband

is some fifth cousin thrice removed?

This is a Guild matter, I'm not here as

The Monarch's wife.

Oh, that much is obvious.

I don't see a wedding ring.

I'm wearing gloves.

I think I know what this is really about.

You and I have had a certain unspoken sexual tension

between us for years, meow.

Ugh. No.

And this is where you play your part,

by denying it, because you must.

You're a married woman.

So you come here, wishing on a swab

to find some tiny speck of magic

Rusty dust deep inside that husband of yours.

Oh, I can see by the look on your face

I've struck a nerve.

What was that?

They're calling it off!

They're calling off the search for Hank!

"O.S.I." Office of...Stupid...

Idiots!

Daddy's working, Dean.

Daddy's receptionist should've told you that.

Well, I can see you're very busy, Dr. Venture,

and I'm not getting anywhere with you,

so I won't take up any more of your time.

They said they "don't have the resources"

to keep looking for him

'cuz some frog guy blew up or something.

Plus he isn't really "missing" because he left

on his own recong-- reco-- recka--

Recognizance.

Well, they have a point-

Wh-? Didn't I have a coffee?

I have to find him!

We have to find him!

He could be laying dead in a ditch somewhere!

Not a lot of ditches in New York, son.

Dead in a gutter, maybe. Pop!

Why aren't you more worried about Hank?!

Because he's Hank.

He does this.

He runs off and does crazy things

and then he comes back home again.

Remember when he tried to run away to the North Pole

because Santa didn't get him a go-kart?

He was gone for three whole days,

until Brock finally found him in a--

Wait, he actually was dead in a ditch that time.

Anyway, right now,

the best thing you can do for Hank is to go

back to school and live your life.

How will that help?

Because that school is costing me a fortune.

Pop, unbelievable!

Doc, we've got a huge problem with the new product!

Do I even have a receptionist?

Ugh.

Hmm?

Heh.

H-Heyyyyy, honey.

Get in the car.

You, too, Gary.

What are you trying to prove?

Exactly what I'd ask you!

What are you trying to prove?

The answer better be that Dr. Venture isn't related to me!

I just collected better DNA and we'll run proper tests,

then the Guild will redefine your status.

Oh, I have been jerked around for years by your Guild.

They made me a Level Ten!

Now I'm supposed to sit around and wait...again!

There are very specific rules.

No arching Venture till we define his relation to you.

I'm sorry.

You really don't get this.

Get what?

I am a super villain that hates Dr. Venture.

That is the way it is, has been, and will always be.

That's what I do!

Ever since you became a Councilwoman for the Guild,

I've been unable to be -- to be me!

I know. I swear I do.

But you have to just hang on a little longer.

Hold on. You said that years ago.

Yes?

Of course I'm sitting down. Who stands up in a limo?

No! Are you ser-- When?

Call an Emergency session of the Council of Thirteen!

I'll be right there!

Driver! Pull over.

What is this? What's happening?

I'm sorry, sweetie.

I have work in the city, so you're gonna need

to take the PATH Train.

Unreal.

Just unreal.

Uh, thank you for the ride, Mrs. Monarch.

Oh, God. Has it become sentient?

No, no, that's not -- Phew.

And my father's brain isn't trapped inside of it?

What? No.

Well then, what's the big problem?

White, a demonstration?

Hey Helper: Turn it up.

Well, it sounds great.

Glad I insisted on upgrading

the superconductors in those speakers.

Wait.

Uh-huh. Alright.

Nothing a few stick'ems can't solve.

Whoa! When did we add that?!

We didn't, Rust! That's the problem!

We need to stop the launch, open this thing up,

re-tool it, and fix whatever the bug is --

Oh, for the love of Benji, this is what you're panicking about?

This is a feature, not a bug.

Levitating personal assistant!

Who else is doing this?

Hey Helper: Stop the music.

Gaaaahhhh! Son of a -- Ngh!

That could've been a baby's head.

Now do you get it?!

Well, we can't stop the launch!

Look around you!

We've got thousands of these things ready to ship.

The fate of the company is literally riding