About “Inside Job” in a few words:

“Inside Job” is an American adult animated television series created by Alex Hirsch and developed by Shion Takeuchi. The show follows the misadventures of a group of eccentric conspiracy theorists who work at the shadowy government agency, the Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense. With a mix of humor, satire, and a touch of sci-fi, the series takes a unique and entertaining look at the world of government secrets and conspiracies.

Meet the characters from Inside Job

Reagan Ridley

Reagan is a brilliant, hyper-focused tech genius—like, if duct tape and laser arrays had a love child, it would be her. She’s socially awkward in the cutest panic-attack way, hoards data the way other people hoard shoes, and will argue with you about ethics while eating cold pizza at 2 a.m. She wants to control everything (control is her comfort blanket!) yet her lab is chaotic and her hair is a low-key disaster, which is honestly the best contradiction. Under all the sarcasm and jittery coffee addiction there’s actual heart — fiercely loyal, protectively soft, and prone to terrible dad jokes when flustered. Also, fun fact, she definitely owns at least three lab coats and one questionable succulent that refuses to die.

Rand Ridley

Rand is Reagan’s dad and the kind of washed-up genius who still talks like he’s running a shadow-state summit even when he’s really just making cereal. He’s brilliant and petty in equal measure, a little washed and a lot unrepentant, with a habit of retrograde nostalgia and suspiciously timed amnesia. He acts like a mentor but mostly serves chaos with a side of regret, and honestly you can’t tell if he’s a grifter or a broken hero (maybe both). He claims to have been everywhere and done everything, and also definitely wears socks with sandals sometimes — not a metaphor, an actual fashion crime. Even when he’s terrible at helping he somehow means it, which is infuriating and oddly endearing.

Brett Hand

Brett is the office’s low-key human steel-toe boot—solid, dry, and quietly unnerving if you stare at him too long. He’s the guy who files things so ruthlessly you start to suspect he’s filing your soul, but he also eats peanut butter straight from the jar like a tiny act of rebellion. On the surface he gives monotone sarcasm and spreadsheets, underneath is maybe a broken romantic, or a guy who cries during animated movies and hides the tissue. He’ll make one perfectly timed deadpan that ruins your morning and then surprise you with a weirdly specific trivia fact about 80s cereal mascots (which maybe contradicts his soul-crushing demeanor but fine). Also, he has a mug that says “world’s okayest employee” and I need that mug.

Gigi Thompson

Gigi is sunshine with an ID badge—warm, impulsive, and capable of turning any sad day into a questionable plan involving cupcakes and glitter. She’s emotionally sharp in a soft way, reads a room like a pro, and will absolutely volunteer to help even when the plan is terrible (and she’ll make it work anyway). She’s got a surprising talent for baths and battle strategy? like, she’ll soothe you while plotting an escape route, which is both terrifying and lovely. She’s sometimes annoyingly optimistic but also surprisingly stubborn—also, she might have a collection of novelty socks and/or a shrine to a fictional rom-com hero, I can’t decide. Also, Gigi once ate pickles for breakfast and swore it was a mood choice; I believe her.

J.R. Scheimpough

J.R. is corporate smoothness personified—silver suit, practiced smile, and the kind of power haircut that whispers “I have an exit strategy.” He’s the overlord who balances PR spin, existential ennui, and quietly terrifying efficiency like a chef with a briefcase. He loves optics more than people but occasionally shows an absurdly tiny crack of humanity (like laughing at a specific dad joke—don’t tell him I said that). He can be charming and monstrous by the same breath, advocates for stability while pulling strings in the dark, and yes he probably owns more cufflinks than bedsheets. Also rumor has it he steals half a sandwich from the staff fridge every Tuesday and denies it with the confidence of a monarch.