Darkwing Duck (1991) s01e43 Episode Script
Dances with Bigfoot
# Daring duck of mystery Champion of right # Swoops out of the shadows Darkwing owns the night # Somewhere some villain schemes But his number's up # Darkwing Duck When there's trouble you call DW # Darkwing Duck # Let's get dangerous # Darkwing Duck # Darkwing, Darkwing Duck # Cloud of smoke and he appears # Master of surprise # Who's that cunning mind behind that shadowy disguise? # Nobody knows for sure But bad guys are out of luck # 'Cause here comes - # Darkwing Duck - # Look out! # When there's trouble you call DW # Darkwing Duck # Let's get dangerous # Darkwing Duck # Better watch out, you bad boys # Darkwing Duck # [birds chirping.]
But why can't I help you while Launchpad's on vacation? Then I could learn your secrets.
Because you don't have any experience.
Who needs experience when you've got ingenuity? For I am the Crimson Quackette, and I've got this whole place rigged with booby traps.
Booby traps? Ha! You can't even make a peanut butter sandwich, let alone a booby trap.
[crashing.]
Gosalyn! Get me out of here! What's the magic word? Grounded.
"Recipe for freeze gas.
Mix one part liquid nitrogen to two parts gingivitis.
And, finally, one part microphone.
" What? What the? So I'm being bugged, eh? Well, let's find out what evildoer is behind this one.
Could it be a fiendish fowl exploit? A secret government plot? Another episode of St, Canard's Most Embarrassing Home Videos? A-ha! What? Look, I am busy enough without you getting in the way.
- Am I getting through to you? - [snoring.]
[chuckles.]
I guess I wore the little pumpkin out.
Well, she'll sleep well tonight.
Yoo-hoo, Dad.
Time to get up.
Rise and shine! Dad? That's weird.
He never gets up before noon.
Unless he's got a mission.
Wait a minute.
Dad's costume! He'd never go on a mission without it.
I smell trouble.
Gos, what are you doing? Something's happened to Dad.
I'm looking for clues.
What's this? Our first clue.
It looks like a flute.
[gasps.]
He's been kidnapped by the St.
Canard Jazz Ensemble.
Mmm, it's not a flute.
It's a blowgun.
Huh.
Rare loblolly pine.
Indigenous to northeast Asia.
It's plastic wood grade.
But a remarkable facsimile of loblolly pine.
[sniffing.]
Ew! What's that awful smell? [gasps.]
Must be knockout gas.
[sniffs.]
Ew.
It's your dad's cheap cologne.
Like I said, knockout gas.
Whoa! Look at that, Honk! Dad's been kidnapped by termites.
Gosalyn, they must be awfully big termites.
Wow! That's it, Honk.
I got it.
It's a Bigfoot.
A Bigfoot's got my dad! There's no such thing.
That's just something from a comic.
Comic? Ha! It's a collector's edition from my Bigfoot Comic I mean, research materials.
Look, Gos, there's something written on the blowgun.
Wow! Strange hieroglyphic symbols.
"If found, please return to Bigfoot tribe, great Pacific Northwest.
" - Since when can you read Bigfoot? - You're looking at it upside down.
And darn clever of them to print it upside down.
There's only one thing to do, Honk.
The great Pacific Northwest or bust.
But how are we gonna get there? - [Gosalyn.]
Autopilot coordinates set.
- [Honker.]
Check.
- Ignition.
- Check.
- Flying ace scarves.
- Check.
Let's go.
Ah! - Ejector seats.
- Check.
How are we gonna find my dad now, Honk? [woman on TV.]
Bored with your dumb job? You can become a zeppelin operator today! Remember, at Dottie Debson's Dirigible Driving School, we're full of hot air, [laughs.]
Come in right now for a free test drive, [Dottie.]
Turn left! No, the other left.
Watch out for the power lines! [pants.]
Way to go, Gos.
Look out! [both yelling.]
[both yelling.]
We must be millions of miles away from home.
Um, Gosalyn, it's the St.
Canard Towers.
Or not.
[Gosalyn.]
Time for a new strategy, Honk.
We gotta find a way to the Pacific Northwest.
Hey! Maybe we can buy a bus or a plane ticket.
We don't even have enough money to buy a stamp.
Whoa, Honk! Major brainstorm coming through.
You make that sound like a good thing.
[Gosalyn, Honker.]
Oh! Watch it! Are you "a ranger, ranger station, somewhere in the Pacific Northwest"? - I guess so.
- Well, then this is for you.
$ 79.
99 COD.
Darn that book club.
All right, that's it.
Next time I'm waiting for the paperback.
[crickets chirping.]
[screaming.]
Honk! Don't be such a baby.
It's just a harmless twig.
- [hissing.]
- Snake! Ah! Honk, wait for me! - We're lost, Gos.
- Yeah.
What would Darkwing Duck do in this situation? I could determine our location by the position of the North Star, if it would just hold still.
[Honker.]
Hey, that's not the North Star.
It's our zeppelin.
- Thanks, Copernicus.
- Welcome.
Now, according to this map, we're standing right in the center - of the giant quicksand pit.
- [gurgling.]
[both.]
Quicksand! Ah! Don't worry, Honk.
I've got this wired.
Crimson Quackette to the rescue! In a few short seconds, we'll be on our way.
[straining.]
[trees creaking.]
[Gosalyn.]
To a horrible death by suffocation.
[straining.]
That was a close one.
Oh! It's no use, Honk.
We'll never find my dad.
We might as well admit defeat.
[sniffing.]
That smell.
I'd know that stench anywhere.
It's Dad's cologne! [Darkwing.]
No, no, stop! I can't take it anymore! It is my dad! [Darkwing.]
Please! No more! Dad must be in really big trouble.
They're treating him like a god.
After the trouble we've gone through to rescue him.
Too much oregano.
[gasps.]
He's not being massaged.
He's being marinated.
And he didn't invite me to the wedding! Not married, marinated.
According to this, they feed victims to a volcano god.
[gasps.]
We've got to save him, Honk.
[Gosalyn.]
Psst.
Dad! Psst! Gosalyn? Gosalyn! What are you doing here? The Crimson Quackette is here to rescue you, Dad.
I brought your Darkwing stuff.
Rescue me from what? They're nuts about me here.
[laughs.]
I seem to be a descendant of one of their gods.
A particularly handsome one.
That's the snack god.
As in the favorite meal of the glutton god.
In other words, you're volcano chow, sir.
[gulps.]
Nonsense! I'll settle this right now.
[speaking foreign language.]
Barcalounger! Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Comfy chair to you too, pal.
[speaking slowly.]
What's the lowdown on the volcano, bub? [gasps.]
Some host.
Told you so! Well, I'll simply frighten these primitive savages away with a display of my high-tech prowess.
I am the terror that flaps in the night.
[grunting.]
I am the ingrown toenail in your party pumps! Dad, I'll translate from my comic uh, dictionary.
Repeat after me.
Now, here's what you do.
[whispering.]
Humina, humina, humina.
Shama-lama-ding-dong.
[whooping.]
What'd I say? What'd I say? You said, "Do not feed me to the volcano.
I am unworthy.
" Or, "Bring on the warriors.
I am unafraid.
" I'm toast.
Don't worry.
If you pass their test, they won't throw you in the volcano.
[speaks foreign language.]
[Gosalyn.]
They accepted your challenge.
You can either walk the inescapable pit of death, or fight the brave warrior named Born with Delicate Bone Structure.
Ha! Now you'll see some real action.
No little girl stuff.
Honkman, catch her if she faints.
Greetings, Born with Delicate Bone Structure.
And fists the size of casaba melons.
Suck gas, Neanderthal.
[laughs.]
'Course, nothing personal.
Guess I should have cleaned the quicksand out of the gun.
He's getting creamed, Honk.
We need a diversion so I can help him.
Don't look at me.
[all muttering in foreign language.]
Look at me! Look at me! Feel scared, you superstitious [gulps.]
primitives.
[shouting.]
[all.]
Ooh! Yep, yep.
The bigger they are [whooping.]
Thanks, guys.
I think I can handle the next test on my own.
[speaking foreign language.]
What'd he say? It is time for the final test.
Uh! The daring denizen of decency faces the most infamous test of strength and endurance.
The dreaded dance marathon! [up-tempo music plays.]
It's no use, Gos.
I can't make it.
Hang on, Dad! [mumbling.]
[speaking foreign language.]
Dances with Bigfoot! [all chanting.]
You'd think he did it all alone.
I deserve some of the credit too.
Me proud daughter of Dances with Bigfoot! I'm responsible for him passing those tests.
And I demand the same treatment as my father.
[speaks foreign language.]
Soup de jour.
[slurps.]
[chuckles.]
What's that mean? It means you have passed the tests.
Therefore, you are free to go.
[Honker.]
Or you have passed the tests.
Therefore, you are worthy of being thrown into the volcano.
Remind me to thank you properly for helping Daddy pass those tests, dear.
Any bright ideas, Crimson Quackette? [chuckles.]
The Quackette will defer to the father on this one.
Boy, that thing's really starting to get on my nerves.
[gasps.]
I got an idea.
Tell them it's a giant bird god.
And it demands they set us free.
[speaking foreign language.]
Topo Gigio! [speaking foreign language.]
What are they saying? They can't see the bird god 'cause the zeppelin's in the way.
Oh.
Ah! Hang on, kids.
So this is what the inside of a volcano looks like.
What a dump! Cool lava, huh? Did you say lava? [both scream.]
I just have to find a way to get to the top, that's all.
Before or after we're boiled alive? You kids just hold on.
I'll take us up.
I must center myself, focusing on the teachings of the Tibetan yogis I learned as a lad.
Dad! Forget that yogi crud.
I got a better idea.
I must concentrate on my mantra.
A, I, O, U and sometimes Y.
A, I, O, U Gos, what are you doing? Don't worry, Honk.
I've got a plan.
I'll save us and my dad.
My body has become one with the other.
I am whole.
I am free.
Relax, Honkmeister.
I'm an expert in slingshot technology.
So then the yogi says to me, "Beetle nut, you must snatch the pebbles from my hand.
" Oh! And then I say, "Who you calling a beetle nut, you bonehead.
" [laughs.]
That was sort of the beginning of the end.
Ready? One, two, three! Shouldn't my burden be getting a little lighter by now? Yep! I told you that yogi crud worked, Gos.
- [rumbling.]
- Ah! [all screeching.]
[all grunt.]
[all growling.]
Typical! The volcano misses one lousy meal and they go on a rampage.
Head for the lake! Yikes! Jump on my shoulders.
Oh! Thanks, sweetie.
Ready? One, two, one, two, three, four! I always knew those Murray Arthur fire dance lessons would come in handy.
Wow! That was major cool.
You didn't even flinch.
Oh, it was nothing.
[laughs.]
Of course, I am a professional.
- [sighs.]
- [sizzling.]
Looks like we're home free.
Persistent little squirts, aren't they? Quick, pull over to that bush.
Honker, you should have thought of that before we left.
According to my calculations, behind that bush we'll find [all.]
the Thunderquack! The autopilot worked! [Gosalyn.]
Ha! Let's see 'em catch us now.
[engine fails.]
[grunts.]
It sure was fun working together, huh, Dad? [laughs.]
I'll say.
I guess we won't be hearing from them again, huh? I bet we taught them a lesson, huh? Yeah, I doubt they'll be sacrificing any totem pole look-alikes for a while! [both laugh.]
[speaking foreign language.]
# Darkwing Duck # Darkwing Duck # Darkwing Duck # Darkwing Duck
But why can't I help you while Launchpad's on vacation? Then I could learn your secrets.
Because you don't have any experience.
Who needs experience when you've got ingenuity? For I am the Crimson Quackette, and I've got this whole place rigged with booby traps.
Booby traps? Ha! You can't even make a peanut butter sandwich, let alone a booby trap.
[crashing.]
Gosalyn! Get me out of here! What's the magic word? Grounded.
"Recipe for freeze gas.
Mix one part liquid nitrogen to two parts gingivitis.
And, finally, one part microphone.
" What? What the? So I'm being bugged, eh? Well, let's find out what evildoer is behind this one.
Could it be a fiendish fowl exploit? A secret government plot? Another episode of St, Canard's Most Embarrassing Home Videos? A-ha! What? Look, I am busy enough without you getting in the way.
- Am I getting through to you? - [snoring.]
[chuckles.]
I guess I wore the little pumpkin out.
Well, she'll sleep well tonight.
Yoo-hoo, Dad.
Time to get up.
Rise and shine! Dad? That's weird.
He never gets up before noon.
Unless he's got a mission.
Wait a minute.
Dad's costume! He'd never go on a mission without it.
I smell trouble.
Gos, what are you doing? Something's happened to Dad.
I'm looking for clues.
What's this? Our first clue.
It looks like a flute.
[gasps.]
He's been kidnapped by the St.
Canard Jazz Ensemble.
Mmm, it's not a flute.
It's a blowgun.
Huh.
Rare loblolly pine.
Indigenous to northeast Asia.
It's plastic wood grade.
But a remarkable facsimile of loblolly pine.
[sniffing.]
Ew! What's that awful smell? [gasps.]
Must be knockout gas.
[sniffs.]
Ew.
It's your dad's cheap cologne.
Like I said, knockout gas.
Whoa! Look at that, Honk! Dad's been kidnapped by termites.
Gosalyn, they must be awfully big termites.
Wow! That's it, Honk.
I got it.
It's a Bigfoot.
A Bigfoot's got my dad! There's no such thing.
That's just something from a comic.
Comic? Ha! It's a collector's edition from my Bigfoot Comic I mean, research materials.
Look, Gos, there's something written on the blowgun.
Wow! Strange hieroglyphic symbols.
"If found, please return to Bigfoot tribe, great Pacific Northwest.
" - Since when can you read Bigfoot? - You're looking at it upside down.
And darn clever of them to print it upside down.
There's only one thing to do, Honk.
The great Pacific Northwest or bust.
But how are we gonna get there? - [Gosalyn.]
Autopilot coordinates set.
- [Honker.]
Check.
- Ignition.
- Check.
- Flying ace scarves.
- Check.
Let's go.
Ah! - Ejector seats.
- Check.
How are we gonna find my dad now, Honk? [woman on TV.]
Bored with your dumb job? You can become a zeppelin operator today! Remember, at Dottie Debson's Dirigible Driving School, we're full of hot air, [laughs.]
Come in right now for a free test drive, [Dottie.]
Turn left! No, the other left.
Watch out for the power lines! [pants.]
Way to go, Gos.
Look out! [both yelling.]
[both yelling.]
We must be millions of miles away from home.
Um, Gosalyn, it's the St.
Canard Towers.
Or not.
[Gosalyn.]
Time for a new strategy, Honk.
We gotta find a way to the Pacific Northwest.
Hey! Maybe we can buy a bus or a plane ticket.
We don't even have enough money to buy a stamp.
Whoa, Honk! Major brainstorm coming through.
You make that sound like a good thing.
[Gosalyn, Honker.]
Oh! Watch it! Are you "a ranger, ranger station, somewhere in the Pacific Northwest"? - I guess so.
- Well, then this is for you.
$ 79.
99 COD.
Darn that book club.
All right, that's it.
Next time I'm waiting for the paperback.
[crickets chirping.]
[screaming.]
Honk! Don't be such a baby.
It's just a harmless twig.
- [hissing.]
- Snake! Ah! Honk, wait for me! - We're lost, Gos.
- Yeah.
What would Darkwing Duck do in this situation? I could determine our location by the position of the North Star, if it would just hold still.
[Honker.]
Hey, that's not the North Star.
It's our zeppelin.
- Thanks, Copernicus.
- Welcome.
Now, according to this map, we're standing right in the center - of the giant quicksand pit.
- [gurgling.]
[both.]
Quicksand! Ah! Don't worry, Honk.
I've got this wired.
Crimson Quackette to the rescue! In a few short seconds, we'll be on our way.
[straining.]
[trees creaking.]
[Gosalyn.]
To a horrible death by suffocation.
[straining.]
That was a close one.
Oh! It's no use, Honk.
We'll never find my dad.
We might as well admit defeat.
[sniffing.]
That smell.
I'd know that stench anywhere.
It's Dad's cologne! [Darkwing.]
No, no, stop! I can't take it anymore! It is my dad! [Darkwing.]
Please! No more! Dad must be in really big trouble.
They're treating him like a god.
After the trouble we've gone through to rescue him.
Too much oregano.
[gasps.]
He's not being massaged.
He's being marinated.
And he didn't invite me to the wedding! Not married, marinated.
According to this, they feed victims to a volcano god.
[gasps.]
We've got to save him, Honk.
[Gosalyn.]
Psst.
Dad! Psst! Gosalyn? Gosalyn! What are you doing here? The Crimson Quackette is here to rescue you, Dad.
I brought your Darkwing stuff.
Rescue me from what? They're nuts about me here.
[laughs.]
I seem to be a descendant of one of their gods.
A particularly handsome one.
That's the snack god.
As in the favorite meal of the glutton god.
In other words, you're volcano chow, sir.
[gulps.]
Nonsense! I'll settle this right now.
[speaking foreign language.]
Barcalounger! Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Comfy chair to you too, pal.
[speaking slowly.]
What's the lowdown on the volcano, bub? [gasps.]
Some host.
Told you so! Well, I'll simply frighten these primitive savages away with a display of my high-tech prowess.
I am the terror that flaps in the night.
[grunting.]
I am the ingrown toenail in your party pumps! Dad, I'll translate from my comic uh, dictionary.
Repeat after me.
Now, here's what you do.
[whispering.]
Humina, humina, humina.
Shama-lama-ding-dong.
[whooping.]
What'd I say? What'd I say? You said, "Do not feed me to the volcano.
I am unworthy.
" Or, "Bring on the warriors.
I am unafraid.
" I'm toast.
Don't worry.
If you pass their test, they won't throw you in the volcano.
[speaks foreign language.]
[Gosalyn.]
They accepted your challenge.
You can either walk the inescapable pit of death, or fight the brave warrior named Born with Delicate Bone Structure.
Ha! Now you'll see some real action.
No little girl stuff.
Honkman, catch her if she faints.
Greetings, Born with Delicate Bone Structure.
And fists the size of casaba melons.
Suck gas, Neanderthal.
[laughs.]
'Course, nothing personal.
Guess I should have cleaned the quicksand out of the gun.
He's getting creamed, Honk.
We need a diversion so I can help him.
Don't look at me.
[all muttering in foreign language.]
Look at me! Look at me! Feel scared, you superstitious [gulps.]
primitives.
[shouting.]
[all.]
Ooh! Yep, yep.
The bigger they are [whooping.]
Thanks, guys.
I think I can handle the next test on my own.
[speaking foreign language.]
What'd he say? It is time for the final test.
Uh! The daring denizen of decency faces the most infamous test of strength and endurance.
The dreaded dance marathon! [up-tempo music plays.]
It's no use, Gos.
I can't make it.
Hang on, Dad! [mumbling.]
[speaking foreign language.]
Dances with Bigfoot! [all chanting.]
You'd think he did it all alone.
I deserve some of the credit too.
Me proud daughter of Dances with Bigfoot! I'm responsible for him passing those tests.
And I demand the same treatment as my father.
[speaks foreign language.]
Soup de jour.
[slurps.]
[chuckles.]
What's that mean? It means you have passed the tests.
Therefore, you are free to go.
[Honker.]
Or you have passed the tests.
Therefore, you are worthy of being thrown into the volcano.
Remind me to thank you properly for helping Daddy pass those tests, dear.
Any bright ideas, Crimson Quackette? [chuckles.]
The Quackette will defer to the father on this one.
Boy, that thing's really starting to get on my nerves.
[gasps.]
I got an idea.
Tell them it's a giant bird god.
And it demands they set us free.
[speaking foreign language.]
Topo Gigio! [speaking foreign language.]
What are they saying? They can't see the bird god 'cause the zeppelin's in the way.
Oh.
Ah! Hang on, kids.
So this is what the inside of a volcano looks like.
What a dump! Cool lava, huh? Did you say lava? [both scream.]
I just have to find a way to get to the top, that's all.
Before or after we're boiled alive? You kids just hold on.
I'll take us up.
I must center myself, focusing on the teachings of the Tibetan yogis I learned as a lad.
Dad! Forget that yogi crud.
I got a better idea.
I must concentrate on my mantra.
A, I, O, U and sometimes Y.
A, I, O, U Gos, what are you doing? Don't worry, Honk.
I've got a plan.
I'll save us and my dad.
My body has become one with the other.
I am whole.
I am free.
Relax, Honkmeister.
I'm an expert in slingshot technology.
So then the yogi says to me, "Beetle nut, you must snatch the pebbles from my hand.
" Oh! And then I say, "Who you calling a beetle nut, you bonehead.
" [laughs.]
That was sort of the beginning of the end.
Ready? One, two, three! Shouldn't my burden be getting a little lighter by now? Yep! I told you that yogi crud worked, Gos.
- [rumbling.]
- Ah! [all screeching.]
[all grunt.]
[all growling.]
Typical! The volcano misses one lousy meal and they go on a rampage.
Head for the lake! Yikes! Jump on my shoulders.
Oh! Thanks, sweetie.
Ready? One, two, one, two, three, four! I always knew those Murray Arthur fire dance lessons would come in handy.
Wow! That was major cool.
You didn't even flinch.
Oh, it was nothing.
[laughs.]
Of course, I am a professional.
- [sighs.]
- [sizzling.]
Looks like we're home free.
Persistent little squirts, aren't they? Quick, pull over to that bush.
Honker, you should have thought of that before we left.
According to my calculations, behind that bush we'll find [all.]
the Thunderquack! The autopilot worked! [Gosalyn.]
Ha! Let's see 'em catch us now.
[engine fails.]
[grunts.]
It sure was fun working together, huh, Dad? [laughs.]
I'll say.
I guess we won't be hearing from them again, huh? I bet we taught them a lesson, huh? Yeah, I doubt they'll be sacrificing any totem pole look-alikes for a while! [both laugh.]
[speaking foreign language.]
# Darkwing Duck # Darkwing Duck # Darkwing Duck # Darkwing Duck