They all follow Thomas as he leads them towards the exit. On the way, he shows them how he used a marker to leave a trail of tiny lines to Hansel and Grettel his way back to the exit. Before long, they all pile out of the weird plastic world they had all been in through an out-of-place metal door and into what turns out to be the old abandoned park zoo, specifically the monkey exhibit. Through the broken windows, the park workers can see that the sun is up, and although it is still early morning, they have little time to lose.
"Here, everybody grab one." Thomas pulls a bunch of box cutters from his pockets. "We need to work fast. When I came to get you guys, I saw the prankster had covered all the buildings in the park in plastic wrap, especially the restrooms."
"Alright, here's the plan. Pops and I will go to the house to call the police. Skips and Mordecai, with Thomas and Rigby, clear out all the bathrooms in pairs; we don't need to be picked off in ambushes like last time. As for Muscle Man and Fives, you need to clean off the drinking fountains. No available public restrooms is bad enough; we don't need to add more violations to the list. And if anyone sees Estate Street, take him down. Everybody got it?" They all nod at Benson, conviction burning in their eyes, "Good, then let's wrap this sucker up."
They quickly pair up and spread out as fast as they can. Running on all fours, Rigby returns to his and Thomas' assigned bathroom, number nine from the prior night, and halts. His jaw drops at the sight before him as the rectangular restroom building is no longer visible. In its place is a giant plastic racecar encasing the whole building.
"There's no way we can clear all of this before anyone shows up!" exclaims Rigby as he stands there in awe and dismay. At that moment, Thomas catches up to him, huffing and puffing from running, but even as tired as he seems, he doesn't appear as upset as Rigby.
"Don't need to get all of it; just cut a pathway to the doors and clean out the interior. I'll take the women's; you take the men's." He holds up his fist to the small raccoon, "We got this." Steeling himself, Rigby fist-bumps Thomas back.
"Hmph, hmph, let's do this!" They throw themselves at the plastic car, carving out large, deep rectangles on the side. Sheet after sheet comes off until they reach their respective interiors and remove all the plastic from the benches, sinks, and toilets. From there, they rush to the next set of restrooms. This one is encased in a giant sports sneaker, but it, too, is carved, and the restroom inside is cleaned up. They repeat this pattern as fast as possible on a plastic TV, boombox, and a basketball. Just as Thomas and Rigby are doubling back to ensure what they worked on is still open, a familiar squealing can be heard from nearby.
"Muscle Man!" Both exclaim as they change course and run through the bushes and trees until they come upon the snack bar. The plastic encasing the building itself, resembling an upside-down ice cream cone, is partially carved into, but their attention is quickly diverted to an upside-down Muscle Man hanging from a tree. He is partly wrapped up in a plastic cocoon and is thrashing about.
"Hold on, we're coming!" Says Rigby as he charges forward.
"No, bro, wait! It's a trap!" Warns Muscle Man, too late as a stream of plastic wrap shoots out of the bushes and towards Rigby. He throws himself to the ground, the wrap barely missing his back. Estate Street leaps out of the bushes and shoots another stream at him but misses when Thomas bodies the teen in the side, taking him down to the ground. They thrash around as Rigby gets up and cuts down his friend before freeing him from the cocoon. Upon doing so, High Five Ghost, who had thus far been missing, is found as he escapes from the hole Rigby cut, gasping for air.
"Dude… you need… to shower more…" Fives wheezes as he flops onto the ground. Before anyone can say anything else, a loud 'aha!' comes from behind them. Thomas had pinned Estate State and was sitting on his chest with his hands pinned above him.
"Now, to see what you really look like." Using his free right hand as his left keeps Street's wrists pinned, he pulls down the teen's hood only to recoil in surprise at seeing a plastic wrap box dispenser underneath. The teen hisses at the goat and uses Thomas' brief distraction to shoot a thick line of wrap around the goat's head. In his panic, Thomas lets go of Estate Street's wrists and claws at the plastic suffocating him. Rigby rushes over as the teen punches the goat off himself and makes a run for it. The raccoon rushes to his friend's side as he thrashes around, his hands not seeming to decide between clawing at the plastic or searching for a knife to free himself.
"I'm here, Thomas! I got you." He tries to find the edge to cut it off, but his hands tremble. A mix of adrenaline and Thomas' thrashing makes it too dangerous to make a cut safely. Muscle Man is then suddenly at his side.
"I got him, bro; you have to go after that little creep and take him down."
"But Thomas-" Rigby is cut off when Thomas' hand grabs his wrist and squeezes, but not enough to hurt.
"You're the fastest one here; you can still catch him if you go now. So hurry up and put that punk in his place!" Nodding to Muscle Man, he pats Thomas's hand, frees himself, clips the box cutter to the fur on his side, and takes off after the criminal on all fours at full tilt. It isn't long until Rigby sees Estate Street running across a field toward the plastic racecar encasing the restrooms where all this started. In no time, Rigby catches up to him and launches himself at the other's legs, catching him by the ankle and sending them both tumbling to the ground.
"Let go of me, you stupid grandpa!" The teen kicks Rigby in the face.
"Never, you no talent fanboy dweeb! You hurt my friends, and now you're gonna pay!" Rigby dodges a few of the kicks rained down on him, but eventually, a nasty one connects with his eye and sends him flying back. Estate Street stands up and stalks over to the groaning raccoon, then kicks him in his ribs.
"No talent?" Another kick to Rigby sends him rolling a few feet away, "FANBOY?" He storms over to him again and stomps on him several times. It's all Rigby can do to curl up into a defensive ball, "I'm the greatest artist since Park Avenue! Nobody can come close to just how good I am! I learned everything he taught, so my art can come to life! Just like his, but just between you and me…" he leans down, grinding his foot deeper into Rigby's side, "mine's better." He stands up, towering over Rigby, who groans on the ground in pain, "I'll be back. And next time, you losers won't stand a chance." With one last kick, Estate Street again takes off towards the giant racecar.
Rigby uncurls and turns onto his back. His whole body is aflame in agony from the beating, and all he can muster to do is lay there and hope the others can catch up and stop him. Rigby is about to close his eyes when a loud, roaring engine startles him. Turning his head, he looks at the restroom, and his eyes go as wide as saucers. The plastic racecar is starting up and running like a regular car! The window lowers, and Estate Street, looking tiny compared to the large plastic vehicle, pokes his box head out.
"I told you my art comes alive! See you, gramps!" He laughs as he steps on the gas, and the engine roars louder, and plastic tires squeal but don't move. Then, Rigby can hear the cracking of bricks and concrete as the restroom at the core of the art piece begins to crumble, destroying all his hard work.
"NO!" He screams. With newfound energy, Rigby rushes toward the vehicle to stop it. He picks up the box cutter that had fallen free from his fur and runs to the large front tire, extending the blade and slashing it open. A harsh blast of air and a loud pop send him flying back a solid six feet just as the foundation of the restroom gives way. The plastic car takes off but immediately goes out of control, spinning and drifting until it crashes into a large oak tree. Exhaustion overtakes Rigby as he lies on the cool, damp grass, his eyes slipping closed. A nap sounds good to him right now.
"Rigby? Rigby!" Someone is yelling his name. He wants to call them back, but everything hurts too much; besides, he did his job. Indeed, taking a nap won't hurt. His name is soon echoed by someone else until he is spotted. Two figures appear at his side and kneel beside him as one begins to tap on his cheek.
"Rigby, you need to open your eyes. Come on, Rigby, wake up. You need to stay awake." It's like swimming through syrup, but the raccoon does as he is asked, his vision swimming until the six blobby figures turn into one worried Thomas and a concerned Pops. Both visibly relax when Rigby looks up at them.
"Did you guys get him?" asks Rigby. Pops nods and moves to the side so Rigby can turn his head and see where the car has hit the tree. The large door is open, and sitting on the ground is Estate Street, tied up with plastic twisted into rope; Skips and Muscle Man stand guard while Benson is off to the side, talking to a guy wearing a suit, green hard hat, and holding a clipboard. Mordecai and Fives, for their part, look to be talking with the police, some of whom are looking around while others take pictures, "Oh, thank goodness. This crud is over with… ugh, I could sleep for a million years." The other two laugh.
"As soon as the paramedics make sure you don't have a concussion." Says Thomas.
"I concur. In the meantime, now that all this tomfoolery is finished, I would quite enjoy seeing the restroom you cleaned, Rigby. Which one was it again?"
"Oh… uhhh… Estate Street kinda drove it away and crashed it." Pops looks over to the plastic racecar and then back at the broken foundation where the restroom had been.
"Oh dear… bad show…"
"I can vouch that he did it." More awake now, Rigby looks over to Thomas in surprise, "I saw it when I was on my way to rescue you all. I first wanted to make sure if Rigby was alright or if he had been caught like the others. Unfortunately, he had been, but his restroom was spotless. The toilets, floors, sinks, and mirrors were all cleaned up. I'm sure if he had some paint, he would've covered up the stalls' graffiti. He did an excellent job." Rigby didn't know what to say, his sore throat choking on the praise.
"Well, if that is indeed the case, then Rigby," said raccoon looks at his elderly friend in anticipation, but he has nothing to worry about as Pops radiates a smile down upon him as well, "I do believe you. And from now on, I shall grant you the benefit of the doubt, provided you continue the good work." Rigby nods, joy flooding his sore body.
"Awww yeah- ow!" He tries to fist pump the air, but his injuries immediately make themselves known with great protest.
"Yeah, you might wanna hold off on moving too much. Here, I'll take you to the ambulance." Thomas slides his arms carefully under Rigby and lifts him up, holding him securely to his chest as the trio walks towards the others by the oak. Rigby relaxes in the hold and rests his head on the goat's shoulder. Despite all his body's pain, he couldn't feel any happier than at that moment if he tried.