Robot Chicken s01e08 Episode Script
The Deep End
It's alive! Oh, yeah! I'm wealthy and successful.
Fantastic! Ready for this? You're going down, devil.
Seacrest, out.
You gotta love being a stay-at-home dad.
But some days are tougher than others.
Don't worry, Dad.
Señor Clean is on the job.
Señor Clean, Señor Clean Need a little help? Thanks, Señor Clean! Oh, no.
I no finished yet.
Ha ha.
What? Go see a movie, kids.
- Yay! - Yay! My wife will be home soon.
Not with her brake lines cut, she won't! Señor Clean gets it done Sometimes with my penis! Seacrest, out! Well, it is scientifically possible to fly a crew of men to the asteroid and destroy it, saving our planet.
However, it will cost Sir, is that a made-up number? Yes.
The fine citizens of this country are reluctant to support another tax increase.
Therefore, Congress is asking America to vote on who goes into space.
Don't we have highly trained astronauts? Oh, that's something of a myth.
And how can people vote? They can call our special 800 number.
You can vote as many times as you like.
But each call costs you $30,000.
Kids, get your parents' permission.
As your leader, I would be honored if America selected me to lead a dangerous suicide mission into outer space.
But this letter from my daddy says I don't got to go.
Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah! Zoom, zoom, zoom! Zoom, zoom, zoom! The results are in and the man Americans have selected to lead the meteor mission is Harrison Ford.
Ford has starred in more top-grossing motion pictures than any other actor alive.
And now the fate of the world is in his capable hands.
Listen, I'm 62 years old.
I'm just an actor.
You people are all insane.
Go get him, Han Solo! I'd like to meet the team of engineers who will accompany me on this mission.
Actually, the remaining five spots on the flight will by filled by Aerosmith.
We need a cool theme song for this mission.
I'm ready to ro-o-o-ock! My God.
Did you just get off the centrifuge trainer? No, I just shot smack into both my eyeballs! Yow! That's terrible! Aw, Steven Tyler's been clean for years.
I have to write an angry letter.
"Dear assfaces" Ladies and gentlemen, I gathered you here today to volunteer my services to go blow up that meteor.
I mean, come on.
I blew up the friggin' Death Star with my eyes closed.
Heh.
No problem.
That was just a movie, dude.
Four, three, two, one, zero.
Liftoff.
Liftoff.
Yeah! All right, this is it, people.
We gotta make a perfect three-point landing on the surface of a chunk of rock traveling and use our positioning software to determine the exact locations in which to detonate our charges fracturing the meteor into small enough pieces that will burn up harmlessly in the earth's atmosphere.
Then we gotta turn this puppy around and get home in one piece.
Can we do this? Yeah! Are you with me? Yeah! U.
S.
A! U.
S.
A! U.
S.
A! U.
S.
A! U.
S.
A! U.
S Now, that sucks donkey dung.
Gotta lay low for a while.
Ah, this looks like a good spot.
Once I get my body back and reverse the gypsy curse or whatever the hell my origin is I won't be hanging out in any lettuce patches.
Huh? Who's there? Come and get some! What are you? Zombies? We have no souls.
We feel no pain.
With your soul, we can finally free ourselves from this wretched lettuce patch.
Soul, gimme your soul.
So-o-o-oul - Soul! Soul! - Soul! Gimme your soul.
Your soul! With their new souls nothing could stop the Lettuce Head Kids.
That's where I come in.
I'm Buffy.
I fight evil.
It's what I do.
And that's how season eight would've started.
Jesus, no wonder you quit.
Give me the boobies! Seacrest, out.
And welcome to the fourth annual Winter Pet Games Downhill Skiing Competition.
Let's hear from some of those pet owners.
Muffin was born to ski.
This is Flopsy's decision, not mine.
I couldn't keep him off the slope even if I wanted to.
And I don't.
Mr.
Muggs didn't choose skiing.
Skiing chose Mr.
Muggs.
Always nice to hear from those pet-o-philes Hoo-hoo, they really hate it when you call them that.
And they're off! You've really gotta question the wisdom of sending all the racers down the hill at once.
You sure do if you're a communist, maybe! Part of being colorblind is not being able to see those red warning flags.
Oh, there goes Flopsy.
He won the Canadian nationals earlier this year.
Oh, Canada! Oh, the agony of defeat.
It's Mr.
Muggs! Mr.
Muggs is leading the pack! Mr.
Muggs wins it! What a great day for animal sports.
- Ohh.
Eww.
- Gross.
Eww.
We now return to Behind the Music Presents Electric Mayhem.
Times were good for Dr.
Teeth and his Electric Mayhem.
The band landed a steady gig with the Muppet Theater and the pay was reliable.
But the good times were not to last.
After a five-year run Electric Mayhem got the pink slip that would change their lives forever.
The Muppet Show was a good gig while it lasted.
Got a lot of tail with that kind of exposure.
I even got to sleep with Josie of the Pussycats back when that meant something.
But Kermit just couldn't keep up the rent on the theater and well, the mob shut us down.
With their steady paycheck suddenly gone the band did what they could kids' parties, bar mitzvahs and even offering children piano lessons.
Oh, holy [Bleep.]
.
You make me wanna pee myself.
That was terrible.
The band's woes weren't limited to financial trouble.
Come on, Tommy Lee's rich, good-looking.
Couldn't have been that bad.
Like, he gave me hepatitis C.
I only have five years to live.
Are you gonna show me those boobs? [Bleep.]
you, Howard.
I'm dying! The band pinned their comeback hopes on their Star Search special.
But no one could foresee the consequences for the band's most beloved member.
Oh, ho ho.
Did you see that? The drummer looks like an epileptic rag doll.
Ho ho ho! Aah! Get off me! Ha ha ho! Help! Where's Johnny? After a long history of behavior problems the on-air attack of Ed McMahon was the last straw.
The courts ruled that the band's drummer Animal be put down.
Oh, no! Oh, no! A reunion? Now? No, not happening, brother.
Check it, my man.
Animal's dead.
And Zoot? I haven't seen Zoot in years.
Not since he was picked up in Tokyo with 37 pounds of hash in his bag.
Today, Electric Mayhem is no more.
For these aged rockers, there are no regrets.
Hey, that's life, man.
It took me this long to realize that fame isn't what's important.
It's good friends and good health.
Fantastic! Ready for this? You're going down, devil.
Seacrest, out.
You gotta love being a stay-at-home dad.
But some days are tougher than others.
Don't worry, Dad.
Señor Clean is on the job.
Señor Clean, Señor Clean Need a little help? Thanks, Señor Clean! Oh, no.
I no finished yet.
Ha ha.
What? Go see a movie, kids.
- Yay! - Yay! My wife will be home soon.
Not with her brake lines cut, she won't! Señor Clean gets it done Sometimes with my penis! Seacrest, out! Well, it is scientifically possible to fly a crew of men to the asteroid and destroy it, saving our planet.
However, it will cost Sir, is that a made-up number? Yes.
The fine citizens of this country are reluctant to support another tax increase.
Therefore, Congress is asking America to vote on who goes into space.
Don't we have highly trained astronauts? Oh, that's something of a myth.
And how can people vote? They can call our special 800 number.
You can vote as many times as you like.
But each call costs you $30,000.
Kids, get your parents' permission.
As your leader, I would be honored if America selected me to lead a dangerous suicide mission into outer space.
But this letter from my daddy says I don't got to go.
Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah! Zoom, zoom, zoom! Zoom, zoom, zoom! The results are in and the man Americans have selected to lead the meteor mission is Harrison Ford.
Ford has starred in more top-grossing motion pictures than any other actor alive.
And now the fate of the world is in his capable hands.
Listen, I'm 62 years old.
I'm just an actor.
You people are all insane.
Go get him, Han Solo! I'd like to meet the team of engineers who will accompany me on this mission.
Actually, the remaining five spots on the flight will by filled by Aerosmith.
We need a cool theme song for this mission.
I'm ready to ro-o-o-ock! My God.
Did you just get off the centrifuge trainer? No, I just shot smack into both my eyeballs! Yow! That's terrible! Aw, Steven Tyler's been clean for years.
I have to write an angry letter.
"Dear assfaces" Ladies and gentlemen, I gathered you here today to volunteer my services to go blow up that meteor.
I mean, come on.
I blew up the friggin' Death Star with my eyes closed.
Heh.
No problem.
That was just a movie, dude.
Four, three, two, one, zero.
Liftoff.
Liftoff.
Yeah! All right, this is it, people.
We gotta make a perfect three-point landing on the surface of a chunk of rock traveling and use our positioning software to determine the exact locations in which to detonate our charges fracturing the meteor into small enough pieces that will burn up harmlessly in the earth's atmosphere.
Then we gotta turn this puppy around and get home in one piece.
Can we do this? Yeah! Are you with me? Yeah! U.
S.
A! U.
S.
A! U.
S.
A! U.
S.
A! U.
S.
A! U.
S Now, that sucks donkey dung.
Gotta lay low for a while.
Ah, this looks like a good spot.
Once I get my body back and reverse the gypsy curse or whatever the hell my origin is I won't be hanging out in any lettuce patches.
Huh? Who's there? Come and get some! What are you? Zombies? We have no souls.
We feel no pain.
With your soul, we can finally free ourselves from this wretched lettuce patch.
Soul, gimme your soul.
So-o-o-oul - Soul! Soul! - Soul! Gimme your soul.
Your soul! With their new souls nothing could stop the Lettuce Head Kids.
That's where I come in.
I'm Buffy.
I fight evil.
It's what I do.
And that's how season eight would've started.
Jesus, no wonder you quit.
Give me the boobies! Seacrest, out.
And welcome to the fourth annual Winter Pet Games Downhill Skiing Competition.
Let's hear from some of those pet owners.
Muffin was born to ski.
This is Flopsy's decision, not mine.
I couldn't keep him off the slope even if I wanted to.
And I don't.
Mr.
Muggs didn't choose skiing.
Skiing chose Mr.
Muggs.
Always nice to hear from those pet-o-philes Hoo-hoo, they really hate it when you call them that.
And they're off! You've really gotta question the wisdom of sending all the racers down the hill at once.
You sure do if you're a communist, maybe! Part of being colorblind is not being able to see those red warning flags.
Oh, there goes Flopsy.
He won the Canadian nationals earlier this year.
Oh, Canada! Oh, the agony of defeat.
It's Mr.
Muggs! Mr.
Muggs is leading the pack! Mr.
Muggs wins it! What a great day for animal sports.
- Ohh.
Eww.
- Gross.
Eww.
We now return to Behind the Music Presents Electric Mayhem.
Times were good for Dr.
Teeth and his Electric Mayhem.
The band landed a steady gig with the Muppet Theater and the pay was reliable.
But the good times were not to last.
After a five-year run Electric Mayhem got the pink slip that would change their lives forever.
The Muppet Show was a good gig while it lasted.
Got a lot of tail with that kind of exposure.
I even got to sleep with Josie of the Pussycats back when that meant something.
But Kermit just couldn't keep up the rent on the theater and well, the mob shut us down.
With their steady paycheck suddenly gone the band did what they could kids' parties, bar mitzvahs and even offering children piano lessons.
Oh, holy [Bleep.]
.
You make me wanna pee myself.
That was terrible.
The band's woes weren't limited to financial trouble.
Come on, Tommy Lee's rich, good-looking.
Couldn't have been that bad.
Like, he gave me hepatitis C.
I only have five years to live.
Are you gonna show me those boobs? [Bleep.]
you, Howard.
I'm dying! The band pinned their comeback hopes on their Star Search special.
But no one could foresee the consequences for the band's most beloved member.
Oh, ho ho.
Did you see that? The drummer looks like an epileptic rag doll.
Ho ho ho! Aah! Get off me! Ha ha ho! Help! Where's Johnny? After a long history of behavior problems the on-air attack of Ed McMahon was the last straw.
The courts ruled that the band's drummer Animal be put down.
Oh, no! Oh, no! A reunion? Now? No, not happening, brother.
Check it, my man.
Animal's dead.
And Zoot? I haven't seen Zoot in years.
Not since he was picked up in Tokyo with 37 pounds of hash in his bag.
Today, Electric Mayhem is no more.
For these aged rockers, there are no regrets.
Hey, that's life, man.
It took me this long to realize that fame isn't what's important.
It's good friends and good health.