Total Eclipse M.I. High

You save his life...

whatever it costs.

That is not a request.

Rest assured, Flopsy,

the people responsible for this shall pay a very high price.

The super-projector is in place, Grand Master.

How could you betray me like this, Igor?

Simple.

He's given me lots of money.

I'm sorry about Flopsy.

I really am.

But if you continue with this mad plan,

you're going to start World War III.

'The 21st century faces a new kind of threat.

'Old school spies have had their day, and MI9 must create a new breed

'of skilled undercover agent...

'Hidden in a place no villain will think to look.'

Welcome to M.I. High.

Now, remember,

no looking directly at the eclipse, and use the glasses provided.

Blinding yourselves is neither cool nor clever.

So, it goes dark for a few minutes. What's the big deal?

-Goes dark for hours every night.

-Glasses, Timothy.

Here we go, everyone.

Where's Rose? I thought she'd be the first one out here.

She's got the best seat in the house.

Oh! The eclipse!

I missing the eclipse. Oh, for goodness' sake.

ALL: Ooh!

MOBILE BLEEPS

Oscar, Carrie, I'm sorry, but we...

Stop looking!

Avert your eyes!

Mr F, tell everyone to look away. Oscar, look at me.

Carrie, close your eyes. Please, guys, come on. I need you.

More importantly, your country needs you. Code Blue - level three!

-Level three?

-Code Blue?

-That means...

-A state of

-national emergency.

-We have to get Rose!

What do you want? Can't you seem I'm busy?

-Did you watch the eclipse?

-What a stupid question. Of course I did.

Have I missed it? Have I missed it?

What's going on, Frank?

I wish I knew. Let's get to HQ. Quickly.

Where? Get off me!

-Rose!

-Where are you taking me?

-Just go!

-All right! Get off!

Books, huh! What use are books?

The written word? Such piffle.

No-one tells me how to think.

SHOUTING

Mr Flatley, this is not the example a headmaster should be leading by!

Ignore the old trout.

She is clearly not one of US!

CHEERING

Get off me!

-Calm down.

-What's the matter with you?

BEEPING

-London, did you get my text?

-In the nick of time.

Everyone's gone mad. What was that thing?

-We're working on it.

-Ah! Hurry up, will you?!

Are we ready to begin phase two?

Soon, Grand Master. Very soon.

With a simple flick of this switch,

every television channel will be in your power.

It's not too late, Igor.

Untie me. We could both make a run for it.

But how would I afford my yacht?

Boring...

Frank, what's wrong with Rose?

I've never seen her like this.

It's my belief, that thing we saw

on the moon's surface has somehow hypnotised everyone who watched it.

Well, that's most of the country.

I'm afraid so.

Can we reverse it?

We'll find out very shortly.

I need a pencil.

CLATTERING

I learned this technique from Mongolian goat herders.

The secret is, I focus along with rhythmic clicking. Thank you, Oscar.

Now Rose, I need you to concentrate on the tip of the pencil.

Good.

HE MIMICS TICKING

What are you doing? You sound like a complete idiot.

And what are you two staring at?

Pathetic.

I don't think it worked.

It's never failed me.

-Ever.

-Please find a way to bring back the old Rose.

I really don't like this one.

The spirals on the moon. Rose had seen them before.

She even gives them a name.

Arthur Poopsberry's Eternal Spiral.

These snacks are the hostages of the commercial world.

Caged until freed by a ransom of coins.

Well, not anymore.

Free the snacks!

Free the snacks! Free the snacks! Free the snacks! Free the snacks!

Free the snacks! Free the snacks!

Arthur Poopsberry. Got him.

Poopsberry. Of course. Oscar.

I knew that name rang a bell. The man behind the Tiger Mallow scandal.

It caused a storm in the advertising world.

It's all done through auto-suggestion by using an invisible code hidden

beneath the image. The product wasn't even shown in this case.

The Tiger Mallow bar.

Sweet and salty softness in every bite.

Making your taste buds light up with delicious delight.

Whoa.

-How did that happen?

-It's called subliminal advertising.

Using images that pass through the mind so fast people aren't aware

they've seen anything. But, freeze frame...

-Yummy.

-The trouble is, it caused mass hysteria. People were so

desperate to get hold of a Tiger Mallow bar, they'd fight, beg, steal,

do anything to get their teeth into one.

That method of advertising was outlawed within weeks.

What happened to Poopsberry?

Who even cares what happened to him?

I don't for starters.

By the looks of it, he adapted his spiral for more sinister endeavours.

-We need to find him.

-I'm on it. And I've got an address.

Free the snacks! Free the snacks!

-Free the...

-Mr Flatley.

-I'd like a word, please.

-Of course, Mrs King.

Let's step into the classroom, shall we?

No more tyrannical Mrs King.

Viva la revolucion!

Mr Flatley! Mr Flatley! Mr Flatley!

MI9. Show yourself.

Frank. We're at the location.

There's no sign of Poopsberry and the place has been trashed.

Frank, we're seriously going to need Rose for this. How is she?

She's...

gone.

Frank?

Free the books. Free the books.

WHIRRING NOISE

What's going on?

No, no, don't watch!

Please look away. Rose, Mr F, look away.

-Come on, don't watch it.

-Welcome.

This is the Grand Master speaking.

ALL: Grand Master.

Concentrate on the spiral.

Very beautiful, don't you agree?

Very beautiful.

Unlike wealth, which is bad, causing greed and envy.

Greed and envy.

But fortunately, I can help you all.

-Rose.

-Bring me your money and I will safely dispose of it for you.

Free you from the evil it brings.

Everyone, come on, look away!

Empty your bank accounts, your piggy

banks, search out all your cash.

My assistants will soon be in your area to collect it.

BEEPING

London, give me an update, and it better be positive.

We believe that a man call Poopsberry has adapted a spiral

he invented in order to sell Tiger Mallow bars.

Sweet and salty softness in every bite.

That's him. He's now working with the Grand Master

on a plot to steal everyone's money.

My entire staff have gone to the bank to withdraw all their cash!

The country's economy will collapse if he gets away with this.

Frank, you must find a way to reverse the hypnosis!

Boring, boring, boring...

I intend to.

I beg you to stop!

Think of the consequences!

I designed those spirals to sell chocolate. Not for this!

You should be grateful.

People will talk about your spirals

-for years to come.

-For all the wrong reasons.

My Flopsy is at death's door and all you can do is whinge.

You're no longer useful.

Take him away.

Divided by three squared minus...

These are beyond me and Rose is in no fit state.

Our only chance is to find Poopsberry and the Grand Master.

-But, Frank, where do we start?

-I might have something.

To project an image on the moon would take immense power, which

would show as a carbon footprint,

so by logging into satellite imaging recordings...

What are you waiting for? Go!

If the Grand Master has caused Rose

any permanent damage, he and me are going to get personal.

Get to the back of the queue.

'This is the SKUL money collection service.

'This is the SKUL money collection service.

'This is the SKUL money collection service.'

The world's gone mad!

'This is the SKUL money collection service.'

Concentrate on the image, Rose.

I've reversed the spiral, which hopefully should reverse the effect.

Rose?

Let's disco!

Come on, Frank, get on down.

That is not the reaction I was hoping for.

There's a lot of activity in the west of the building.

Hang on.

-Oh, no.

-What?

The basement. It's packed with explosives. We have to get in.

So, how exactly do we get through the door?

It uses retina recognition. The eye is the key.

So, in other words, we can't get in.

We can. But this is going to need your expertise more than mine.

I love this song. Lily is so in the groove!

There's no music, Rose, please stop dancing.

Chill, Frank. The music will calm.

There is no music! It's all in your head, Rose.

If you don't come back your life as a spy is over. This team is over.

I've never lost a man in the field, Rose Gupta.

-I am not about to start now.

-What?

Cheryl Cole? I just adore Cheryl!

OK. Um, up a bit.

Stop.

Left a bit. Stop.

Uh, try that.

Explosives and weapons.

Oscar, the Grand Master could supply and army with all this.

SHE SEARCHES STATIONS

'The streets of Britain continue to fall into chaos.

'The government advice is to stay in your homes.'

-Poopsberry!

-Yes. Who are you?

-MI9.

-Oh, thank goodness. I've been kidnapped by the Grand Master.

-He's going to use the attack spiral.

-Attack spiral?

-What does it do?

-Exactly as it sounds.

Soon the entire nation will be completely under that madman's power.

But you can reverse it, right?

No, I'm sorry.

The hypnosis is permanent. It's the way I designed it.

No, you see, there has to be a way. Our friend's been affected.

I don't get it. Grand Master's already stolen everyone's money,

why transmit a second spiral?

That was a red herring. At 1600 hours he's going to

brief the entire nation, readying them to go to war with Belgium.

Soon after that, he'll transmit the attack spiral. Then war it will be.

I know the Grand Master's mad but surely he's not that mad?

It does explain all the weapons we saw, the explosives.

He must be targeting the European Parliament. Belgium is the HQ.

It's nothing to do with that. It's because that stupid rabbit

ate a dodgy waffle, and been poorly for days.

You expect us to believe that Grand Master intends to declare war on

-all because Flopsy ate a dodgy waffle?

-Not any dodgy waffle,

a dodgy Belgian waffle. Look, you've got to do something!

Raaaaarrr!

CRASH!

Two, one, and wake.

Welcome back, Rose.

SHE SQUAWKS

Very good, Rose. You almost had me.

SHE CONTINUES TO SQUAWK

MOBILE RINGS

'Frank, we've got a serious problem.'

-You're not the only one.

-'We found weapons and explosives.

'The Grand Master's plans to start a war. We've also freed Poopsberry.'

He was the Grand Master's captive, not his ally. It's bad news.

'He says the hypnotism is permanent.'

Poor Rose.

I never thought I'd say this,

but I think this time, the Grand Master has finally...

SHOUTING

'Finally what, Frank?'

Surely not?

Carrie, I'll call you back.

Rose, I need you to watch this.

< Will you ever listen?

Concentrate on the sound.

..A modicum of responsibility!

Are you going to continue to stroll through life

underachieving at every stage?

Now stop being so contrary, or you are going to make me

very angry, and you really don't want to see my angry.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

Where are Carrie and Oscar?

What are you grinning about?

Come on, Rose, we've got work to do.

We need to analyse that tape and find out what it is in Mrs King's

voice that reverses the hypnotic state.

OK, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.

But I'm on it.

-Oscar, time's running out.

-Nearly there. Done.

There you go.

BLEEPING

What was that noise?

-Uh-oh.

-It's a chain-trigger.

To diffuse it, the wires have to be cut in the correct order.

Nine permutations, only one correct.

Cut the red first. It's always the red first.

Grand Master will know that so it's probably blue or the yellow.

But he'd also know that we know that he knows...

I suggest you make a decision.

Red it is.

-OK. Blue or yellow?

-Um...blue.

No! Uh, yellow.

No! Uh...blue, blue.

You can never be that lucky twice in a row.

-Clear.

-Oscar, we have less than two minutes to stop the Grand Master.

Come on, let's go.

Frank?

Look.

This shows a normal human voice, whereas this graph shows Mrs King's.

Now, look here. When she loses her rag,

she produces a series of sine waves which show notes of complete purity.

-Like when an opera singer breaks a glass with her voice.

-Exactly.

It's my belief it's these sine waves which unlock the spiral's effects.

Can they be replicated?

Yes, but getting the right pattern could take months. We've got to try

and make Mrs King throw a wobbly in front of the entire nation.

That means taking Mrs King to his hideout.

Where the Grand Master has control of all the TV transmissions.

Look, it's dangerous, I know,

-but what choice do we have?

-OK, let's do it.

It means we have to find a way of making Mrs King very angry indeed.

Give me a minute.

It's almost time to take up arms.

Ready yourselves to risk your lives in the return for honour.

'So we will march as an army into the heart of Belgium...'

-It's too late.

-No, come on.

'Where we will seek our revenge on behalf of my dearest Flopsy.

'Victory will be ours!'

Victory will be ours.

All right, Mrs King? It's OK.

Oh, Frank.

I don't know if I can do this job any more.

I'm at the end of my tether.

You need to relax. I can help you.

Really? How?

Concentrate on the tip of my pencil.

Tick-tock-tick...

Good. Now feel your eyes getting heavy, very heavy.

Tick-tock-tick-tock.

You'll never know what a service you're about to do for your country.

Carrie, Oscar? Sit tight.

The cavalry's on its way.

Holland to the north, Germany to the east, Luxembourg to the south,

France to the West.

I take Belgium, and the rest of Europe will be ripe for plundering.

Then I, the Grand Master,

shall become the figurehead of the entire continent,

striking fear into the hearts of the world's superpowers.

General Flopsy

could have tea with the Queen.

He'd love that, actually.

-We thought we lost you.

-Good to have you back.

Good to be back. Now, which way to the Grand Master?

'The time has come...'

Prepare the attack spiral.

Prepared and ready to transmit.

What are you waiting for?

Transmit.

Grand Master, don't you ever mess with my mind again.

Carrie, Oscar, cuff him.

Don't you lot have anything better

to do than constantly ruin my plans for world domination?

To another day.

HISSING

-I'll go after him.

-No, no time, the nation expects a live transmission.

-Let's give them one.

-But the spirals are irreversible.

You obviously never met Mrs King.

SHE SNORES

Transmitting in four seconds, Frank.

3, 2, 1, and wake.

Where am I?

What's going on?

-Do you know this man?

-Yes.

-It's Mr Flatley, the headmaster from my school.

-Oh! Headmaster!

He must be very clever them.

One must have an exceptional talent to reach such heights.

Or an aunt on the board of governors.

You seem bitter, Mrs King.

After all, he's headmaster of the year.

Mr Flatley? Heh!

Not in a million years!

This has to be some kind of mistake.

Oh, no mistake. And his prize is an all-expenses paid

trip to Las Vegas and to be named headmaster of St Hope's, forever.

Forever? No!

Well, you can't hide genius.

The truth hurts, doesn't it, Mrs King?

-Here goes.

-Genius?

Let me tell you one or two truths about

Mr Headmaster of the Year Flatley!

He isn't fit enough to teach monkeys, never mind children.

He's a bumbling, blathering, bombastic butter-faced buffoon.

Skipping around poles in that ridiculous Morris dancing outfit?

And don't even get me started on the biscuits!

HOARDING THEM - as if there's no tomorrow!

Gorging himself on the filling and then putting the damp casing

back into the packet thinking no-one will notice!

What is going on?

Anyone else feel dizzy?

Custard creams.

My favourite.

-It's worked.

-Incredible.

-And the mess he makes!

He's like an out of control toddler, overdosed on E numbers.

Papers, pens, staplers, highlighters...

-And sleep.

-Oh!

-Come on, get the chair ready.

-I've got the chair.

-OK, Ready?

-Yep.

-And...

Come on, Mrs King. Got her. Have you got a pen?

Thank you.

Now go. Come on.

Don't forget the wheelbarrow.

When you wake you will remember nothing.

3, 2, 1, wake.

Oh, it's never ending.

The explosives have been removed and the building made safe

and all the money has been returned to its rightful owners.

I think we can call that a success.

I still can't believe Rose here was dancing to imaginary music, though.

Wait, won't would that have been picked up on the CCTV?

-I suppose it would have been.

-I would love to see that.

-Don't you dare.

-Don't worry, Rose, I wiped all tapes.

-That's unfair.

Look!

Look! I've won Headmaster of the Year and an

all-expenses paid trip to Las Vegas.

Oh, no, I was meant to shred that.

The only thing is, I don't recollect the ceremony

or posing for this photograph.

-Still, Las Vegas here I come.

-What are we going to do?

-Mr Flatley?

-Hm?

Concentrate on the tip of my pencil.

Tick-tock...