Duckman (1994) s04e22 Episode Script
Short, Plush and Deadly
(whistles) (birds chirping) BERNICE: You putrid, plume-pated parasite! DUCKMAN: I can't hear you! I can't hear you! I can't hear you! EVERYONE ELSE: Stop yelling! Thank you.
Now, where was I? Waxing euphoric about the bucolic pleasures of camping.
Which apparently consist of consuming ten times your body weight in venison jerky Projectile vomiting across a three-mile lake And waking up next to a dead moose in a Philadelphia flophouse with no memory of the past five months.
Well, there'll be none of that on this trip.
As I explained to you before, and will repeat now, not as clunky exposition, but just because it feels so damn good, we're taking this taxpayer- financed dream vacation at the request of the House Subcommittee for Investigating Dream Vacations, which means no one in this family better break any rules, Duckman! And let me tell you, these woods are lousy with rules-- no random body cavity searches while impersonating a park ranger; no videotaping lesbian campers in outdoor showers then selling the tapes to Lesbian Camper Monthly-- which, by the way, just raised their subscription rate again.
Welcome to Monsanto Presents Phillip Morris Yellowstone National Park, Incorporated, brought to you in part by: "We deliver the world's most important packages-- yours.
" And Jip peanut butter.
"Choosy mothers choose Jip.
" You may insert a credit card Nice try, robo-crap, but my bank account's been attached by Monty Hall Enterprises since 1983.
Ya-ha-ha! Hoo! (chittering) (tires squealing) (engine dieseling) Ah, smell that fresh Okay, I'm bored.
CHARLES AND MAMBO: Ooh! Ooh! Ow! Ooh! (both continue grunting) (wheels squeaking) And where do you think you're going, little man? We're in a park; we thought we'd hike.
I think Beverly would rather spend her time with a real outdoorsman.
This is rough territory, Corneptitude.
There are huge sections of this park that are still unpaved with grotesque tree-like things bunched so close together you can barely see the gift shops.
Actually, Duckman, Corny and I would Beverly? Can you help me with the tent? Good.
And, Cornfed, you come with me and do some more of that great listless-nodding- at-whatever-idiotic-thing-I-say thing you do so well.
I can't believe you wanted to go for a hike when we can just walk around and look at things.
You're right, I was insane.
Look, there's a tufted titmouse.
Really? A big titmouse? A really big titmouse.
Man, just look at the size of that titmouse.
That is one humongous titmouse.
You think I could grab the titmouse? Sure, it's fun to grab the titmouse.
When's the "V" chip coming? Not for another six months.
FLUFFY AND URANUS: * John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt * * That's my name, too * Oh! That horrible sound! Please, Mommy, make it stop! I'll be a good girl! * Schmidt, la-la-la-la-la-la-la * * John Jacob Jingleheimer * (both yelling) Mr.
Duckman?! What a seemingly horrifying, though hopefully delightful surprise.
Well, well, well.
I don't recall you little fruit baskets putting in for a vacation request.
That's not true, Mr.
Duckman.
According to the employee regulations Which we've never actually seen, but take your word that they exist We submitted the paperwork six months in advance.
And I assume you also included an affidavit of death.
Death? Death? It's in the regulations.
No vacations till you're certifiably dead.
Tell you what, kids.
I'll give you a choice: be my personal camp-out slaves or watch me plump my wieners over your stuffing.
BOTH: which way to camp sahib? (blowing) Ah, the wood must be wet.
Grandma-ma, can you give us a hand? (breaking wind) Okay, let's see if those fey little dunaways were able to put together my campsite design.
(disco music playing) (music grows louder) Not bad.
* Hey, Ranger Smith, don't block the woofer or you'll be pick- a-nicking boo-boo out of your butt-butt.
Sir, we've had some complaints about the noise.
Yeah? From who? Every living creature within 50 miles.
I told you stocking-stuffers-- turn off that noise! (music stops) Now, if you can get those damn birds to stop bleating night and day I'm sorry, sir; but I must ask you to move.
Okay, we're breaking camp.
Not us, Duckhead, you! We'll meet you back here in three days.
Fine.
I don't need you.
I don't need anybody.
MAN: Hey, man! (man grunting) (glass shattering) (clattering) A lot of homeless people around here.
Makes you think.
Makes you want to do something.
Get a job! Get a haircut! Stop being homeless! (insects chirping) How about here? Too hilly.
Or here? Too flat.
Here? Too republican.
Here? Too Corny, think of a word.
Salty? "Salty.
" Unbelievable.
He has one line, and Fine, we're going to go with "too salty.
" Moving on.
(owl hooting) But, Mr.
Duckman, we appear to be entering a dangerous section of the park.
Pish tush.
This is the forest primeval, untouched and virginal, waiting with moist expectation as we poke and probe for the perfect spot to stick our equipment.
Wear 'em if you got 'em, boys.
We're going in deep, and if there is danger out there, that danger's going to be in big, big trouble.
(wolf howling) (howling) DUCKMAN: Too dirty.
Too quiet.
Too "Ansel Adamsy.
" Too moldy.
Not moldy enough.
Duckman, perhaps we should All right, you got in your damn "salty"-- give it a rest.
Mr.
Duckman, we've been searching all night.
Quit your bellyaching or you two fuzzy-wuzzies will have no skin.
I got a feeling the perfect campsite lies right around that bend.
Too, uh perfect.
(yells) Hey! Sorry.
Slipped.
Well, I'll be seeing you in court.
You bruised my coccyx, and not in the way I like either.
Now follow me.
We'll set up through these bushes.
And by "we," of course, I mean, "you.
" Not to cast dispersions on your judgment, Mr.
Duckman, but this area is swarming with insects.
Duh! How else am I going to capture the true outdoor experience? And by "I," of course, I mean "you.
" Now then Fluffy, Uranus, prepare my bedtime buffalo wings bonanza.
Cornfed, construct a sort of Swiss Family Robinson-like living quarters.
You can start with the observatory.
Here's some wood.
Wait, Duckman, that log could be filled with (buzzing) What? What? Covered with what? Why is it no one ever finishes a sentence when I'm around? (muffled): Don't worry.
I'll be all right.
Just so long as nobody pani Dwaaah! Dwaaah! A thousand times, dwaaah! Never fear, old friend.
I will snatch you from death's door.
Pollinate this, you busy little bastards! (loud thud) Ouch.
Cornhouse, you look terrible.
You got to stop partying with the Rangerettes.
(laughing) I kid him, but I love him.
I don't want to scare you, Corny, but now you got one of those bloodthirsty ladybugs crawling on you.
This may hurt a bit.
(Cornfed screaming in distance, bird wings flapping) Cornfed! Duckman?! Their footprints go in that direction.
We have to rescue them.
BERNICE: Wait! Wait! Who knows what danger lies-- or lays, I always forget which-- in the forest? You boys stay here.
Beverly and I will investigate.
But we can't leave the kids alone.
Perhaps I can help.
It's world-famous entertainer and master illusionist Jim Bailey! (dramatic music plays) Mr.
Bailey, if you don't mind my saying so, you're not someone usually associated with camping.
Ah, but the root word of "camping" is "camp.
" Oh, sure.
When most people think of national parks, they think of the animals, the wilderness, the solitude.
What they always seem to forget is the glamour.
You girls run along now.
Everything will be fine.
Bless you, Mr.
Bailey.
Don't you worry about a thing! Did anyone ever tell you you look like Liza? CORNFED: Duckman, listen carefully.
I've only got a few seconds before my body swells up and I'm unable to speak or move.
Luckily, you can fabricate the antidote using that moss over Save your strength, dear one.
Don't spoil my last memory of you by spewing some delirious stream- of-consciousness gobbledygook.
Oh, Corny, please-- for once, have a little dignity.
You owe me that much.
(groans) Hey, nice face, Corn-- for Mardi Gras! (mumbling) What, old pal? What are you trying to say? "Thank you for being my friend"? CORNFED: If I wasn't blind, paralyzed and almost dead, I'd be wearing your sphincter as a shoe.
Mr.
Duckman, I think we've been bitten, too.
I hope it doesn't cause an allergic reaction.
Keep in mind that employee regulations call for a $200 fine for every medical emergency.
Don't worry, old chum.
You can pay at the end of the month.
Hey, do you have to pull so herky-jerky? From now on, I'd appreciate more of a fluid arcing motion.
Well, we'd appreciate it if you'd stop acting so unkindly.
Hmm that was an unkind thing to say.
Maybe that bite is causing some kind of reaction.
Mr.
Cornfed's still in bad shape.
He needs food.
Good point.
The sooner we get grub, the sooner I can evacuate my innards under a canopy of stars.
So, I suggest you slackers go out and whip up a nice wildebeest pate or a puma melt or maybe just a light fawn sandwich.
(ferocious snarling) A mountain lion? How'd you get a mountain lion? Never mind.
We just did.
Mush! I say, mush! (whip snaps) Must get food inches away hand not quite paralyzed Say, uh, Corny, you going to finish that? (moaning) No sense letting it go to waste.
Think of all those children in India who go to bed without any mountain lion.
Too salty.
(both gasp) (panting) Excuse me.
Maybe I'm suffering from some jungle-induced form of memory loss, but I don't remember hearing the word "stop.
" We're stopping because your senseless sense of direction has led us in one giant circle.
Look! There happen to be many other Duckmans, you know-- a very common name in Iraq.
Mr.
Duckman, during this entire expedition, you've consistently led us astray.
Plus, you've been insulting and abusive and demeaning.
And not in the way we like either.
Maybe it's just the allergic reaction talking But we want to reexamine our relationship.
I couldn't agree more.
You're fired! What?! What?! That's right! F-I-E-R-D-E-R-D R D R D Fired! Let's face it.
You mamby-pamby shammies are way out of your element here.
You just don't know what it's like to be one with nature, to feel the blood coursing through your veins.
The testosterone coursing through your testosteronicals.
How I pity you pantywaists for being so feeble, so weak, so Charles Nelson Reilly-esque.
I simply cannot listen to your whining anymore.
Blah-blah-blah-blah blah-blah-blah-blah- blah-blah-blah-blah blah-blah-blah-blah- blah-blah-blah! But hold-- why merely fire you? Why not do what we've all been waiting for and destroy you completely in my patented Emmy award-losing fashion? (footfalls thunders) Mr.
Duckman make our day! (bellowing ferociously) (roaring and snarling) DUCKMAN: Okay.
Let's talk benefits.
Now, right off, we can agree that your dental co-pay is too high.
Duckman must die.
Duckman must die.
Please don't kill me! Please, please, please! I'll do anything! I'll be your slave; I'll lick your claws; I'll vacuum your hide.
I'll-I'll CORNFED (straining): Must warn Duckman: never run away from enraged stuffed bears.
Run away! (footfalls thundering) (distant roaring) Hurry, Bernice.
Duckman may have only moments to live.
Bernice! (panting) (snarling) (panting) (panicked panting) (panting) No.
It can't end like this.
Wait.
That gives me an idea.
You could jump off the cliff and go for help.
(snarling) Dwahh! Never mind.
I'll go with you-u-u-u.
(Duckman grunting, thumping, rocks clattering) (loud splash) After everything I've gone through, Duckman better be dead when we find him.
(Duckman screaming) (grunts) (mumbling) Poor Cornfed, I bet you'd have some helpful suggestion if only there was some way for me to hear what you were thinking.
Kill Duckman.
Kill Duckman.
Kill Duckman.
(footfalls thundering) (roaring and snarling) We're doomed.
Doomed.
(mumbles) Aha! Thank God I always keep a spare token from Peep World.
(coins clattering) Yes! Who da man! I's da man! Yikes.
(Duckman screaming) (grunts) (footfalls thundering) (grunts) (panting) (snarling) (distant roaring) There's a disturbance in the forest.
The hunt is up, and may God have mercy on the hunted.
(roaring continues) Must make it across.
Must Hey, a Mento.
(roaring) Dwahh! (chuckles) Now relax, guys-- gals-- whatever.
Say, those endangered spotted whales are sure making a comeback, huh? Hey, note to myself-- separate clear and colored liquor bottles for recycling.
(footfalls approaching) (snarling) (Tarzan yells) Quick! Cut the ropes! (grunting) (snarling) (footfalls thundering) (snarling) Sing, boys.
Sing for your lives.
* Clang, clang, clang went the trolley * * Ding, ding, ding went the bell * * Zing, zing, zing went my heart strings * * From the moment I saw him, I fell * * Chug, chug, chug went the motor * * Bump, bump, bump went the brake * * Thump, thump, thump went my heart strings * * When he smiled, I could feel the car shake * Thank you, Mr.
Bailey.
Your wonderful show tunes must've caused the civilized part of our consciousness to assert control over our temporarily altered genetic structures.
Well, I'm just thankful that you two came through this little incident unharmed because it gives me the opportunity to do this.
(both gasp) (both screaming) Dad, can we keep Mr.
Bailey? He's brought laughter, music, and black fishnet pantyhose into our lives.
Sorry, boys, but I'm not ready to settle down.
All over this great land of ours there are other glamour-deprived boys and girls that need my help.
As we say in the theater, ciao.
Well, other than Fluffy and Uranus mutating into giant killer monsters, this was a pretty nice trip.
We came to learn about nature and ended up learning about each other.
And I saw a really big titmouse.
I think the bee venom is wearing off.
I can't believe it.
I'm going to be all right.
I'm not going to die.
Quiet, Cornicles.
Ajax wants to say something.
Dad, could I go with Mr.
Bailey? Of course, you can, Ajax.
In fact, let's all go.
Come on, guys.
* Clang, clang, clang went the trolley * * Ding, ding, ding went the bell * * Zing, zing, zing went my heart strings * * From the moment I saw him, I fell * * Chug, chug, chug went the motor * * Bump, bump, bump went the brake * * Thump, thump, thump went my heart strings * * When he smiled DUCKMAN: Too salty.
Now, where was I? Waxing euphoric about the bucolic pleasures of camping.
Which apparently consist of consuming ten times your body weight in venison jerky Projectile vomiting across a three-mile lake And waking up next to a dead moose in a Philadelphia flophouse with no memory of the past five months.
Well, there'll be none of that on this trip.
As I explained to you before, and will repeat now, not as clunky exposition, but just because it feels so damn good, we're taking this taxpayer- financed dream vacation at the request of the House Subcommittee for Investigating Dream Vacations, which means no one in this family better break any rules, Duckman! And let me tell you, these woods are lousy with rules-- no random body cavity searches while impersonating a park ranger; no videotaping lesbian campers in outdoor showers then selling the tapes to Lesbian Camper Monthly-- which, by the way, just raised their subscription rate again.
Welcome to Monsanto Presents Phillip Morris Yellowstone National Park, Incorporated, brought to you in part by: "We deliver the world's most important packages-- yours.
" And Jip peanut butter.
"Choosy mothers choose Jip.
" You may insert a credit card Nice try, robo-crap, but my bank account's been attached by Monty Hall Enterprises since 1983.
Ya-ha-ha! Hoo! (chittering) (tires squealing) (engine dieseling) Ah, smell that fresh Okay, I'm bored.
CHARLES AND MAMBO: Ooh! Ooh! Ow! Ooh! (both continue grunting) (wheels squeaking) And where do you think you're going, little man? We're in a park; we thought we'd hike.
I think Beverly would rather spend her time with a real outdoorsman.
This is rough territory, Corneptitude.
There are huge sections of this park that are still unpaved with grotesque tree-like things bunched so close together you can barely see the gift shops.
Actually, Duckman, Corny and I would Beverly? Can you help me with the tent? Good.
And, Cornfed, you come with me and do some more of that great listless-nodding- at-whatever-idiotic-thing-I-say thing you do so well.
I can't believe you wanted to go for a hike when we can just walk around and look at things.
You're right, I was insane.
Look, there's a tufted titmouse.
Really? A big titmouse? A really big titmouse.
Man, just look at the size of that titmouse.
That is one humongous titmouse.
You think I could grab the titmouse? Sure, it's fun to grab the titmouse.
When's the "V" chip coming? Not for another six months.
FLUFFY AND URANUS: * John Jacob Jingleheimer Schmidt * * That's my name, too * Oh! That horrible sound! Please, Mommy, make it stop! I'll be a good girl! * Schmidt, la-la-la-la-la-la-la * * John Jacob Jingleheimer * (both yelling) Mr.
Duckman?! What a seemingly horrifying, though hopefully delightful surprise.
Well, well, well.
I don't recall you little fruit baskets putting in for a vacation request.
That's not true, Mr.
Duckman.
According to the employee regulations Which we've never actually seen, but take your word that they exist We submitted the paperwork six months in advance.
And I assume you also included an affidavit of death.
Death? Death? It's in the regulations.
No vacations till you're certifiably dead.
Tell you what, kids.
I'll give you a choice: be my personal camp-out slaves or watch me plump my wieners over your stuffing.
BOTH: which way to camp sahib? (blowing) Ah, the wood must be wet.
Grandma-ma, can you give us a hand? (breaking wind) Okay, let's see if those fey little dunaways were able to put together my campsite design.
(disco music playing) (music grows louder) Not bad.
* Hey, Ranger Smith, don't block the woofer or you'll be pick- a-nicking boo-boo out of your butt-butt.
Sir, we've had some complaints about the noise.
Yeah? From who? Every living creature within 50 miles.
I told you stocking-stuffers-- turn off that noise! (music stops) Now, if you can get those damn birds to stop bleating night and day I'm sorry, sir; but I must ask you to move.
Okay, we're breaking camp.
Not us, Duckhead, you! We'll meet you back here in three days.
Fine.
I don't need you.
I don't need anybody.
MAN: Hey, man! (man grunting) (glass shattering) (clattering) A lot of homeless people around here.
Makes you think.
Makes you want to do something.
Get a job! Get a haircut! Stop being homeless! (insects chirping) How about here? Too hilly.
Or here? Too flat.
Here? Too republican.
Here? Too Corny, think of a word.
Salty? "Salty.
" Unbelievable.
He has one line, and Fine, we're going to go with "too salty.
" Moving on.
(owl hooting) But, Mr.
Duckman, we appear to be entering a dangerous section of the park.
Pish tush.
This is the forest primeval, untouched and virginal, waiting with moist expectation as we poke and probe for the perfect spot to stick our equipment.
Wear 'em if you got 'em, boys.
We're going in deep, and if there is danger out there, that danger's going to be in big, big trouble.
(wolf howling) (howling) DUCKMAN: Too dirty.
Too quiet.
Too "Ansel Adamsy.
" Too moldy.
Not moldy enough.
Duckman, perhaps we should All right, you got in your damn "salty"-- give it a rest.
Mr.
Duckman, we've been searching all night.
Quit your bellyaching or you two fuzzy-wuzzies will have no skin.
I got a feeling the perfect campsite lies right around that bend.
Too, uh perfect.
(yells) Hey! Sorry.
Slipped.
Well, I'll be seeing you in court.
You bruised my coccyx, and not in the way I like either.
Now follow me.
We'll set up through these bushes.
And by "we," of course, I mean, "you.
" Not to cast dispersions on your judgment, Mr.
Duckman, but this area is swarming with insects.
Duh! How else am I going to capture the true outdoor experience? And by "I," of course, I mean "you.
" Now then Fluffy, Uranus, prepare my bedtime buffalo wings bonanza.
Cornfed, construct a sort of Swiss Family Robinson-like living quarters.
You can start with the observatory.
Here's some wood.
Wait, Duckman, that log could be filled with (buzzing) What? What? Covered with what? Why is it no one ever finishes a sentence when I'm around? (muffled): Don't worry.
I'll be all right.
Just so long as nobody pani Dwaaah! Dwaaah! A thousand times, dwaaah! Never fear, old friend.
I will snatch you from death's door.
Pollinate this, you busy little bastards! (loud thud) Ouch.
Cornhouse, you look terrible.
You got to stop partying with the Rangerettes.
(laughing) I kid him, but I love him.
I don't want to scare you, Corny, but now you got one of those bloodthirsty ladybugs crawling on you.
This may hurt a bit.
(Cornfed screaming in distance, bird wings flapping) Cornfed! Duckman?! Their footprints go in that direction.
We have to rescue them.
BERNICE: Wait! Wait! Who knows what danger lies-- or lays, I always forget which-- in the forest? You boys stay here.
Beverly and I will investigate.
But we can't leave the kids alone.
Perhaps I can help.
It's world-famous entertainer and master illusionist Jim Bailey! (dramatic music plays) Mr.
Bailey, if you don't mind my saying so, you're not someone usually associated with camping.
Ah, but the root word of "camping" is "camp.
" Oh, sure.
When most people think of national parks, they think of the animals, the wilderness, the solitude.
What they always seem to forget is the glamour.
You girls run along now.
Everything will be fine.
Bless you, Mr.
Bailey.
Don't you worry about a thing! Did anyone ever tell you you look like Liza? CORNFED: Duckman, listen carefully.
I've only got a few seconds before my body swells up and I'm unable to speak or move.
Luckily, you can fabricate the antidote using that moss over Save your strength, dear one.
Don't spoil my last memory of you by spewing some delirious stream- of-consciousness gobbledygook.
Oh, Corny, please-- for once, have a little dignity.
You owe me that much.
(groans) Hey, nice face, Corn-- for Mardi Gras! (mumbling) What, old pal? What are you trying to say? "Thank you for being my friend"? CORNFED: If I wasn't blind, paralyzed and almost dead, I'd be wearing your sphincter as a shoe.
Mr.
Duckman, I think we've been bitten, too.
I hope it doesn't cause an allergic reaction.
Keep in mind that employee regulations call for a $200 fine for every medical emergency.
Don't worry, old chum.
You can pay at the end of the month.
Hey, do you have to pull so herky-jerky? From now on, I'd appreciate more of a fluid arcing motion.
Well, we'd appreciate it if you'd stop acting so unkindly.
Hmm that was an unkind thing to say.
Maybe that bite is causing some kind of reaction.
Mr.
Cornfed's still in bad shape.
He needs food.
Good point.
The sooner we get grub, the sooner I can evacuate my innards under a canopy of stars.
So, I suggest you slackers go out and whip up a nice wildebeest pate or a puma melt or maybe just a light fawn sandwich.
(ferocious snarling) A mountain lion? How'd you get a mountain lion? Never mind.
We just did.
Mush! I say, mush! (whip snaps) Must get food inches away hand not quite paralyzed Say, uh, Corny, you going to finish that? (moaning) No sense letting it go to waste.
Think of all those children in India who go to bed without any mountain lion.
Too salty.
(both gasp) (panting) Excuse me.
Maybe I'm suffering from some jungle-induced form of memory loss, but I don't remember hearing the word "stop.
" We're stopping because your senseless sense of direction has led us in one giant circle.
Look! There happen to be many other Duckmans, you know-- a very common name in Iraq.
Mr.
Duckman, during this entire expedition, you've consistently led us astray.
Plus, you've been insulting and abusive and demeaning.
And not in the way we like either.
Maybe it's just the allergic reaction talking But we want to reexamine our relationship.
I couldn't agree more.
You're fired! What?! What?! That's right! F-I-E-R-D-E-R-D R D R D Fired! Let's face it.
You mamby-pamby shammies are way out of your element here.
You just don't know what it's like to be one with nature, to feel the blood coursing through your veins.
The testosterone coursing through your testosteronicals.
How I pity you pantywaists for being so feeble, so weak, so Charles Nelson Reilly-esque.
I simply cannot listen to your whining anymore.
Blah-blah-blah-blah blah-blah-blah-blah- blah-blah-blah-blah blah-blah-blah-blah- blah-blah-blah! But hold-- why merely fire you? Why not do what we've all been waiting for and destroy you completely in my patented Emmy award-losing fashion? (footfalls thunders) Mr.
Duckman make our day! (bellowing ferociously) (roaring and snarling) DUCKMAN: Okay.
Let's talk benefits.
Now, right off, we can agree that your dental co-pay is too high.
Duckman must die.
Duckman must die.
Please don't kill me! Please, please, please! I'll do anything! I'll be your slave; I'll lick your claws; I'll vacuum your hide.
I'll-I'll CORNFED (straining): Must warn Duckman: never run away from enraged stuffed bears.
Run away! (footfalls thundering) (distant roaring) Hurry, Bernice.
Duckman may have only moments to live.
Bernice! (panting) (snarling) (panting) (panicked panting) (panting) No.
It can't end like this.
Wait.
That gives me an idea.
You could jump off the cliff and go for help.
(snarling) Dwahh! Never mind.
I'll go with you-u-u-u.
(Duckman grunting, thumping, rocks clattering) (loud splash) After everything I've gone through, Duckman better be dead when we find him.
(Duckman screaming) (grunts) (mumbling) Poor Cornfed, I bet you'd have some helpful suggestion if only there was some way for me to hear what you were thinking.
Kill Duckman.
Kill Duckman.
Kill Duckman.
(footfalls thundering) (roaring and snarling) We're doomed.
Doomed.
(mumbles) Aha! Thank God I always keep a spare token from Peep World.
(coins clattering) Yes! Who da man! I's da man! Yikes.
(Duckman screaming) (grunts) (footfalls thundering) (grunts) (panting) (snarling) (distant roaring) There's a disturbance in the forest.
The hunt is up, and may God have mercy on the hunted.
(roaring continues) Must make it across.
Must Hey, a Mento.
(roaring) Dwahh! (chuckles) Now relax, guys-- gals-- whatever.
Say, those endangered spotted whales are sure making a comeback, huh? Hey, note to myself-- separate clear and colored liquor bottles for recycling.
(footfalls approaching) (snarling) (Tarzan yells) Quick! Cut the ropes! (grunting) (snarling) (footfalls thundering) (snarling) Sing, boys.
Sing for your lives.
* Clang, clang, clang went the trolley * * Ding, ding, ding went the bell * * Zing, zing, zing went my heart strings * * From the moment I saw him, I fell * * Chug, chug, chug went the motor * * Bump, bump, bump went the brake * * Thump, thump, thump went my heart strings * * When he smiled, I could feel the car shake * Thank you, Mr.
Bailey.
Your wonderful show tunes must've caused the civilized part of our consciousness to assert control over our temporarily altered genetic structures.
Well, I'm just thankful that you two came through this little incident unharmed because it gives me the opportunity to do this.
(both gasp) (both screaming) Dad, can we keep Mr.
Bailey? He's brought laughter, music, and black fishnet pantyhose into our lives.
Sorry, boys, but I'm not ready to settle down.
All over this great land of ours there are other glamour-deprived boys and girls that need my help.
As we say in the theater, ciao.
Well, other than Fluffy and Uranus mutating into giant killer monsters, this was a pretty nice trip.
We came to learn about nature and ended up learning about each other.
And I saw a really big titmouse.
I think the bee venom is wearing off.
I can't believe it.
I'm going to be all right.
I'm not going to die.
Quiet, Cornicles.
Ajax wants to say something.
Dad, could I go with Mr.
Bailey? Of course, you can, Ajax.
In fact, let's all go.
Come on, guys.
* Clang, clang, clang went the trolley * * Ding, ding, ding went the bell * * Zing, zing, zing went my heart strings * * From the moment I saw him, I fell * * Chug, chug, chug went the motor * * Bump, bump, bump went the brake * * Thump, thump, thump went my heart strings * * When he smiled DUCKMAN: Too salty.