(phones rings)

Special Projects, Nicole.

The turkey leg is in the cello case.

What do you make of that?

You've reached Chubby Chuckie?

Uh-Uh, say it in code.

Okay, wait.

The cougar lies with Spanish moss.

Nah, that means Khrushchev's been assassinated.

I haven't memorized the code book.

So you reached Chubby Chuckie, that's awesome.

Did anyone in the North Korean government make you?

I never set foot in North Korea.

Amazing, but you definitely made contact

with Chubby Chuckie?

Absolutely.

I told him we thought

a debilitating North Korean computer virus

that brought our country to its knees would be rude.

I played on his sense of decorum.

And he agreed to scrap Staxnut just like that?

Just like that.

You still don't get it, do you, Winters?

I coaxed him, I massaged him.

You hack into computers, but I hack into hearts and minds.

But they'll probably cut his rations,

so he also wants 20 million dollars' worth

of debranded Fudgecicles.

We can do that.

And he also wants access

to every American's voicemail messages.

What? Why?

Well, he's been in Pyongyang for decades.

I think he just misses American chit-chat.

I guess North Korean chit-chat must be pretty depressing.

Nobody chit-chats like Americans chit-chat.

Nice weather today, don't you think?

How can we be sure the Staxnut virus is dead?

Chuckie said he'd send us the scrubber code

after he's heard 10 hours of American conversations

about Kim Kardashian.

(groans) Well, I'll tell the telecoms

to share all voicemail messages with him.

Shouldn't be a problem.

Good job, Special Agent Topple.

I think there's a Presidential Medal of Freedom

in your future. You know what,

I already have one of those

for inventing the Wu-Tang Clan.

I'm holding out for those steak knives.

Well, I should get back to work.

The NSA just sent me 10,000 brunch Instagrams to review.

Godspeed you, Agent Beep-Boop.

(phones rings)

Chuckie, it's me, Toppie.

(Chuckie's speech is garbled) Yeah, fine, it worked.

(Chuckie's speech is garbled) Thanks again; I owe you.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know.

Fudgecicles and voicemails,

you'll get 'em, but I mean in a metaphorical sense.

(Chuckie's speech is garbled) Alright, anyway,

give Supreme Leader my best. (Chuckie's speech is garbled)

Uh-huh, yeah, I'll tell Beyonce you say hi.

(Chuckie's speech is garbled) (laughs) What?

Of course she's Illuminati.

It's her eye on top of the pyramid, has been forever.

(Chuckie's speech is garbled) Well, I don't know.

I guess she'd be about 10,000 years old?

Just like me.