Duckman (1994) s04e18 Episode Script

Kidney, Popsicle, and Nuts

(quacks) (rock music playing) (laughter) Dudes! Sorry I'm late, but you got to turn this town upside down to find a good Hungarian amateur bondage video.
Let's par-tay! Say, bud, where's the blushing groom-to-be? Where's good old, uh uh Stevie? I'm Stevie.
Stevie-boy! Steverino! The Stevemeister! Long time no see, still can't believe you're gonna go through with it, man.
Why subsidize NASA when you can get the Tang for free? Eh? Eh? But since you're about to be balled and chained till death do you part, promise me you won't hold back anything tonight.
I know I won't.
(laughs) Who the hell are you? Ah, quit your joshing, Stevedore, it's us-- Greg and Skeeter.
What's up? Don't tell me you forgot that time we were partying with, uh, uh? You know, that guy? Frank? The Frankster! Yeah.
You know, at that, uh, you know place? The Shore? The Shore! Partying with Frankie at the Shore.
Man, was we faced! But not as faced as we're going to get tonight, right, chief? (chimpanzee grunts) (retching) We're in luck.
He threw up on me.
In frat boy language, that means we're in.
Duckman, sanitation issues aside, don't you feel guilty trying to pass yourself off as that young man's friend just so we can crash his bachelor party? Yeah.
I'm so ashamed I think I'll go cry in my free beer! (gulping) (screams) Duckman? Duckman?! This is serious.
I have to get you to a doctor immediately.
(hooting and cheering) Or I could just let you lie there and leer at co-eds.
Ah MAN: Mr.
Duckman, if the body is a temple then you've committed countless acts of desecration.
I'll need a urine sample.
With pleasure.
Always glad to show off my sharpshooting skills.
(zipper whizzing) (screaming) (screaming) (screaming) No problem.
How ironic that urination, once such a source of pleasure for you has now become a cavalcade of pain.
Surely it isn't that difficult.
Surely it is, sawbones.
I just passed a stone bigger than Bill Wyman.
Ouch.
Hmm I've never cut my finger on a urine sample before.
Mr.
Duckman, it is my expert medical opinion that you need a new kidney.
Oh, is that all? Hoo! As long as it's an internal organ.
Luckily, my dearest friend, Cornfed will be only too happy to donate his.
I'm sorry, but in order for the transplant to work the organ must come from a blood relative.
I knew there was a reason I had children.
Okay, doc, name your poison-- Ajax, Charles, Mono Unfortunately, it appears that Charles and Mambo share one kidney between them, while Ajax was born without any.
Though, intriguingly, he does have three livers and an ovary.
What are you trying to tell me, doc? That you must find another relative who can donate a kidney.
Okay.
I'll get it from Dad.
But your father's been dead and buried for years.
Well, you're half right.
Dad got caught up in the cryogenics craze of the '70s so after he kacked, I had him frozen.
CORNFED: Here? It was all I could afford after squandering his life savings on eight-tracks.
Ah, Leo Sayer.
You still make me feel like dancing.
Terry "Duke" Tetzloff! At your service, and if you're dying, Mr.
Duckman this is your lucky day.
We have a special on frozen heads-- a mere $29.
95.
Plus, we'll throw in a pint of our marble fudge swirl as a way of saying "We know you have your choice in head-freezing establishments and we want to thank you for choosing us.
" Spare me the snake oil, Legosi.
I'm here to claim my dad.
I hope you remembered: No tickee, no body.
One dadsicle coming right up! (gasps) Dad, there you are looking just like after you'd read my report cards.
I see you now, and I remember the times we had the moments we shared-- tender words, a hug, the touch of your hand on mine and I know those moments aren't really gone.
They'll live forever in my mind and in my heart.
So, can I get the stiff to go? (slurping) Uh-oh.
"Uh-oh"? That's medicalese for "S.
O.
L.
!" What gives? There's a problem with the kidney.
(gasps) What is it, doc? Cancer? Cirrhosis? Freezer burn? Judging from the test results it did not come from your biological father.
You mean, the man who raised me wasn't my real father? Then who was? I have no idea, but if you can't get his kidney, you will die.
But that's impossible! How will I find him?! He may not even be alive! Don't I have any other options? Just one.
(bell ringing) Freeze your head.
Get your head frozen, right here! (crying) So, you see, boys, there's always a chance your father could find his father and persuade him to donate his kidney.
But if not, at least you can take comfort in the fact that he'll be going to a better, happier place.
DUCKMAN: Well, soon, my body will be ripped open, my chest hollowed out, my eyelids sewn shut, I'll get buried in dirt and worms will devour my flesh.
(crying) What's with him? Okay.
Stop your blubbering.
Here's the good news.
Behold-- your inheritance.
It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
I could keep stuff in it.
Very touching, Ajax, but it's what's inside the box.
Actually, you're all a bit young to see, touch and/or be infected by anything in here but when you grow up and get grown-up fetishes of your own maybe this stuff will make you smile and think of your old man 'cause even if I'm not here, I'll always be with you.
Wherever a guy breaks into Gillian Anderson's trailer to steal her dress shields, I'll be there.
Wherever there's a cop beating up a guy because he climbed Carol Alt's trellis I'll be there.
Wherever a guy gets so horny that even the thought of Al Gore's daughters lights up his yule log, I'll be there.
But I worry about you boys, 'cause I know what it's like to have your dad die.
Twice.
Now, you don't know that yet.
Your father may be alive.
Ah, Beverly-- sad, sweet, naive apparently- not-wearing-a-bra Beverly, my father has to be dead or he would have tried to contact me.
I know it's painful to consider, Duckman, but you have to have hope.
If only there were a way to locate him.
There is.
On the Microsoft network.
Of course! The Microsoft network! "Harnessing the power of the Internet to enrich our lives.
" How come you know so much about the Microsoft network? Bill Gates just moved in next door.
Ooh, look at me! I've got a riding mower! I'm Mr.
High Tech! Bih-bih-bih-bih! We've got something.
We just logged on to and voila! Key-ripes! This is the hand-punched extra hole in the Bible Belt.
Looks like this is the place.
DUCKMAN: Wuh-ho! See? I told you.
That's the kind of joint a guy with my superior genetic makeup ends up in.
Uh, Duckman, that's not it.
That is.
(dog howling) Great.
We're in Dogpatch.
It's not without a certain unpretentious, rustic charm.
Probably made the cover of Better Homes and Hovels.
It's funny, Corny.
I've been thinking about this moment since I first found out my dad might be alive.
I was pretty angry about what he did.
Still, now that I'm here, I mean, well, maybe he had his reasons.
I bet if we'd met earlier we we would have been friends but now I'm sure I won't have anything in common with him.
(gun cocking) (Southern accent): What the hell are you staring at? R-R Red Crocker? Oh, you'd like me to tell you, wouldn't you? Well, that'd just make it all so easy for you, wouldn't it? Get inside afore I splatter your innards all over my compost heap.
(both gulping) (flies buzzing) (both grunting) Got to check you for microphones.
Why are you using a dead otter? Just never you mind.
Well, you're clean.
Sit down.
Now, talk.
Who sent you? N-N No-No-Nobody.
You see, Mr.
Crocker Red Dad Hmm? It's me-- Eric Duckman, your long-lost son.
Son? Heh, you Freemasons must believe I'm soft in the head.
What do you think I am some gullible, namby-pamby John Bircher? Well, I ain't! What I am is smart.
I'm the onliest one who's caught onto the Satanic conspiracy of Jews/Christians/ Hindus/Muslim bankers who wants to take away our assault weapons, fluoridate our toothpaste, deprive us of our uninalienable rights and put us to work as slave labor on them trendy gazpacho farms.
Come on! Only a stark raving, drooling, idiot madman would believe that wasn't the pure, gospel truth.
Ah, they're all in on it-- the U.
N.
, the C.
I.
A, Kinko's.
That's why I formed my own government.
The Crocker Republic.
Population: One.
Dad, I'm sorry to interrupt your paranoid babbling but I have a problem I kind of need your help with.
Now, get this straight, kid.
I don't believe for one blue-eyed, razor-cut minute that I'm related to a moldy-mouthed fleabag like you.
Okay, but let's say, just for the sake of argument that I was your son, and I was going to die.
Do you think, maybe, you would mind, maybe letting me have your kidney? Get me on a operating table so's you can drill one of them trilateral commission chips into my brain? Ha! Anyway, just so happens I lost my spare in the Great Postal Service War of 1993.
Now, I'm giving you ten seconds to git.
Ten! (both screaming) (car starting) (owl hooting) CORNFED: You almost finished? You betcha, Cornostomy.
I'm just shaking the dew off the (yelling) lily.
I'm sorry this didn't work out, Duckman.
I suggest we hurry home and get you on the organ waiting list.
You might have a chance if there are no detoxing celebrities or sports stars ahead of you.
I'm not going anywhere.
Am I crazy, or did you just say you were staying, meaning you're crazy? I want to spend my last days trying to get to know my father.
Duckman, please don't take this the wrong way but your father is a bona fide, over-the-top, paranoid schizophrenic lunatic with delusions of grandeur.
The truth is, Corny, I see myself in him.
We both have strong convictions.
We both speak our minds.
We're both willing to forgo hygiene in pursuit of higher ideals.
What choice do I have, old friend? I must be with him.
I just wish there was something I could do to find a way into his heart.
(honking horn) Dad, I got you a present.
(growling) But the owner of the all-night handgun and assault weapons shop made me promise you'd only use it in self-defense, like, uh, against a really mean rabbit, or something.
Sonny boy.
(chomping and slurping) More squirrel, son? No, thanks, Dad.
I'm stuffed.
So was the squirrel.
(both laughing) God.
Oh, yeah So, to get back to your lesson the Sierra Club, also known as the Bolshevik Party USA, talks about saving owls but what they really mean is Confiscating assault rifles? Planned parenthood talks about giving away condoms but what they really mean is Manipulating the weather to control corn futures? Hold on there.
You're picking up on the subtleties of the Crockerland geopolitics a tad too fast.
You sure you ain't just a-parrotin' things back at me to win my trust? Dad, while I may not agree with every detail of your philosophy-- for instance, I'm still a bit hazy on why the Dutch are poisoning our pools with chlorine-- I certainly share your healthy contempt for a society that prizes rational discussion about common problems over incoherent ranting about imaginary evils! You're a good boy, boy.
Dad, why did you leave Mom? Well, it ain't easy for me to talk about.
I guess it all started the day I realized our government was a sham and the more I looked into things the more I realized this country had gotten too corrupt to save and I better start one of my own even if I had to ignore all my responsibilities as a citizen and a husband and a father to do it.
Wow.
You're an old-fashioned salt of the earth idealist! Just like I used to be.
Dad, we've missed so much time together and I I don't have a lot left.
Do you think I could stay? You really want to? Oh, you got to be willing to give up the trappings of so-called civilization, memorize the sacred covenant, kill and skin farm animals.
I'd do all that.
I've done some of it.
Of course, some of them were more pets than farm animals.
(chomping and slurping) Dad? Are you okay? Yeah.
Listen, Duckman I don't need a lot to live on-- a few hundred gallons of lentil soup, a missile launcher, some pamphlets with pictures of third world types in a bull's-eye-- but there's one thing I've been missing someone to pass it on to so that when I die this little island of hatred and ignorance won't disappear forever and if you wasn't gonna die first I'd give it to you.
(blubbering) (both blubbering) Dad now that we're together I know that nothing could possibly, ever go wr (over speaker): This is Lieutenant Colonel Cornfed Pig of the national guard.
(helicopter hovering) That's what I get for letting him have weekends off.
Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands up.
Or, alternatively, come out, then throw down your weapons.
Conversely, you might throw them down as you're coming out.
As an interesting variation, you could All right! No wonder these sieges last so long.
Red Crocker, you are under arrest for illegal possession of firearms, holding Duckman hostage and burning your own flesh without a license.
I'm not being held hostage! I'm staying here with my dad! That's my boy.
This is Congresswoman Bernice, newly-appointed member of the Select Subcommittee for Giving Pushy Freshmen Something To Do That Gets Them Out of Washington here to remind you that the constitution dictates we treat these heavily-armed, pathological criminals with dignity and respect.
Duckman's in there.
Open fire! Dad, we're outnumbered, outgunned though just barely.
I'm going to die but there's no reason for you to.
Don't worry, son.
There's no problem a little mortar fire can't cure.
We're so alike-- I have that on a sampler-- but in this case I think we should give ourselves up.
Bernice! Beverly! Duckman's in there with his father.
Perhaps he'd come out if he was asked to by his loved ones.
Unfortunately, there's no one here but his family.
MAMBO: Dad please come out! Tell him you love him.
Dad, uh our active distaste for you is sometimes mitigated by pity.
May I say something? Certainly, Ajax.
Dad, where did you leave the toilet paper? In the roller thing next to the toilet! Thanks, Gad.
Duckman, if you won't listen to your family perhaps you'll listen to the godfather of soul, the hardest-working man in show business, soul brother number one.
"Please, Please," "Jump On the Good Foot" himself-- James Brown.
* Good God! * * Duckman! Unh! * * Give yourself up! * * Duckman! * * Unh! * * Give yourself up, man! * * Duckman! Unh! * * Give yourself up! * * Duckman! Unh! * * Give yourself up! Hey! * * Duckman! Hah! * He makes a strong case, but I don't know.
Dad what are you doing? Look, kid, I like you but after careful assessment of our situation I've rethought our position.
Our eggs is fried.
You're running out on me, arent you? Just like you did before I was born! Duckman, do I look like somebody who could have a family? I met your mother.
She got pregnant.
I couldn't handle it.
End of story.
No! Not end of story.
I may not have long to live but I'm not letting you desert me twice! You think you're so brave standing up to dangers that don't exist, but anything comes along you got to make a real sacrifice for, like a family, and you're out of there! Okay, maybe we're alike in some ways.
Maybe we're both angry, maybe we're both misfits, but you're wacko! I wanted to get to know you, to understand you, to figure out where I came from but now I do know you, I wish I'd never met you.
You're not an idealist, you're just a coward.
We're going in! Wait.
I think it's Duckman.
He's got a hankie! Fire! Duckman, where's your father? He left.
Again.
(doorbell rings) Package for a Mr.
Duckman.
RED: Dear son here's a present to make up for the birthdays I missed.
May you have many, many more.
(gasps) A kidney! Turns out I had a spare all along.
Took it out with my swiss army knife.
Had to do it myself because all them doctors is Maoists.
(sniffling): He's got a point.
Oh, I'm too old to change, son, but I'm glad I got to know you a little.
Maybe we'll see each other again someday.
Maybe, Dad.
Maybe.
(engine starts) You're a good boy, boy.
(truck drives away) * Ow! Duckman! * * Hey! * * You gave yourself up! * * Duckman! Hey! * * You gave yourself up! * * I like it * * Duckman! Huh! * * Gave yourself up! You're real! * * Duckman! Huh! * * Gave yourself up! * * Duckman! * * Hey! * * You gave yourself up! * * Duckman! Hey! * * You gave yourself up! I like it * * Duckman! Huh! You gave yourself up! * * You're real! Duckman! * * Hah! * (flies buzzing)