Robot Chicken s08e06 Episode Script

Zero Vegetables

_ [Whirring.]
[Theme music plays.]
[Thunder rumbles.]
[Evil laughter.]
[Whirring.]
Man: It's alive! 8x06 - Zero Vegetables [Thunder rumbles.]
Yay, Skip-it is fun! You're skipping it too fast! Aah, I can't slow it down! Aah, aah! Please help me! - Aah! - Ew, I'm sorry! Miss Steele, Mr.
Pennybags is ready to be interviewed.
To what do you owe your success? Easy.
I have all the orange money.
Whee! [Laughs.]
[Chuckles nervously.]
I've got what I need.
[Elevator dings.]
[Moaning.]
Baltic.
Oriental, water works are my sexual preferences.
Care to take a chance, or would you rather go directly to jail? - What are these things? - I have very singular tastes.
They're butt plugs for your park place.
No! [Gasps.]
I'm always the racecar! Oh, I'm gonna make it rain all over your community chest! If things get too hot, can I use my "get out of jail free" card? Roll the dice and find out.
- I can't.
My hands are tied up.
- Eh, too bad.
I could used some help getting this racecar out of my ass.
I love dancing! [Music.]
Whee! From now on, dancing is illegal! Hey, everybody! Let's dance! [Music.]
I was wrong.
Dancing is legal again! - Aah! - Aah! - Aah! - Let's da Mistakes were made.
Dancing is illegal yet again.
Oh, Mrs.
Butterworth, may I have some more syrup, please? Sure, Billy.
Pop my top! [Giggles.]
Oh, yeah, Billy.
You like when Mrs.
Butterworth get sticky all over your flapjacks? I want to see my gooey sweetness caked all over your mouth, Billy.
Mm-hmm.
That's it.
Oh.
Ohhh! - Uh, t-thanks, Mrs.
Butterworth? - No, Billy.
Thank you.
Let's be firm this time.
The fate of the "Transformers" franchise depends on it.
Mr.
Bay, p-please put on some pants.
I hear you have some issues with the script for "T5".
Uh, yes.
Well, the uh, the pe-pe-pe uh, the story seems rather nonsensical.
I approved these changes myself.
See, this scene here, Prime reveals he's from the Planet Magnetron.
But Optimus Prime is from Cybertron.
No, I explain all that here.
He arrived on Cybertron as a boy.
- Autobots aren't ever children.
- And met the Autobots in high school.
There are no high schools on And he invented transforming in metal shop.
- That's absurd! - And he holds the patent, so the Decepticons owe him a lot of money.
That, Mr.
Bay, that's enough! We at Hasbro Mr.
Bay, please.
My sinuses.
Ooh! Mr.
Bay, I must protest! [Ice rattles.]
- Mr.
Bay, p-please.
Please - Martini, gentlemen? - We are not in a festive mood.
- More for me.
[Slurping.]
We at we have no further notes.
Thank you! You know, Mortimer, people always ask me "Where do you get the balls to make movie that [bleep.]
awesome?!" And I always respond "not balls.
To make movies this [bleep.]
awesome, you need a prehensile penis.
" [Music.]
Aah! Shark BJ! [German accent.]
Yeah, what is it, Fritz? Yeah.
So, first of all, heil Hitler.
Second of all, I left half a sandwich in the fridge that was clearly labeled with my name on it, - and now it's gone.
- Eh, that happens.
Ya, ya, it does happen, but this is like the third time in two weeks, so Are you accusing the Fuhrer of stealing your sandwich? No, no, no, no.
I am not accusing anybody, Commander Himmler, but I know only the three of us use that fridge, and [chuckles.]
I did not steal my own half-sandwich.
- Then clearly Himmler took it.
- Mein Fuhrer! Respectfully, I did not take the sandwich.
Then, by process of elimination, you're saying I took the sandwich.
Well, it was you or me, and I know it wasn't me.
- So - Fritz, be honest.
Which of us is more likely to have stolen your sandwich? Well, let me Hmm.
Keep in mind that only one of us murdered 6 million Jews.
- Yes.
Exactly.
- What do you mean, "yes, exactly"? I murdered 6 million Jews.
Clearly I'm a good person! I wouldn't steal a sandwich! I need to tread really carefully here.
Should I have not murdered 6 million Jews? - You absolutely should have.
- Murdering Jews is good.
So anyone who murders Jews is good, right, guys? Again, I really, really want to think about my choice of words.
Fritz! What do you think? Am I a good person? [Laughing.]
I mean, I mean, good and evil - it's all relative.
- Pussy.
Well, historically speaking, murder is bad.
- Not always! - No, no, no.
Just in a general broad-stroke kind of way.
What about murdering turkeys to eat them? Is that bad? Did you think about that while you were making your turkey sandwich, Fritz? Does making a turkey sandwich make you a bad person? I never said it was a turkey sandwich.
I-I I admit it.
I stole your sandwich, Fritz.
Therefore, I am a bad person.
Therefore, a bad person killed 6 million Jews.
Therefore, maybe killing What have I done?! Mein Fuhrer, only a bad person would kill 6 million Jews, but only a good person would feel bad about it.
Danke, Fritz.
Ah, come on.
Are we bringing it in? Oh, we're bringing it in.
_ __ _ Moving is always scary, especially if your new house holds a dark secret.
Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, I call this story _ Approval denied! Every story must begin with "the tale of" You're not Hemingway.
Stick to the [bleep.]
format.
[Groans.]
Submitted for the approval of the midnight society _ "The tale of home sweet home"? Ugh! I'm sorry.
I thought we were telling ghost stories, not pitching new aromas to yankee candle.
- Gary! - Oh, so I'm the bad guy, right? - You know what? - Put the salt down, Gary! I started the midnight society.
I can end it! Oh, wow! Gary's on fire! God, this burns! Why won't anyone help me? Does anybody have a blanket?! The eighth wonder of the world! Kong! [Kong growls.]
[Music plays.]
[Grunting musically.]
Wiggins, did you walk Kong like I asked? Uhh [Grunting continues.]
Aah! [All screaming.]
[Moans.]
Wiggins, you are so [bleep.]
fired! [Babbling.]
Oh, my sweet daughter, Betty.
What is there to be done with you? Uncle Sammy, Susanna sad ass is back.
Should I tell her to [bleep.]
the hell off? No, Bitch Pudding.
[Chuckles.]
Send her in.
[yelling.]
Susanna!!! I'm sorry, Reverend.
Dr.
Griggs said that her sickness may be the result of unnatural causes.
My daughter's illness is not supernatural, Susanna.
Yeah [bleep.]
the hell on off.
Everyone's saying there's witchcraft all around, running their [bleep.]
sucking mouths about spells and shit? And what am I supposed to tell them? That Tituba forced my daughter and niece to cavort with spirits in the forest? Psh! There weren't no spirits out there.
Then what was going on? - Show your tits! - Whoo! [Laughs.]
Yeah! You crazy, girl.
[Glass shatters.]
Yeah! Nothing.
There can be no doubt that witchcraft is at play in this town! Dirty, filthy witchcraft! Ms.
Pudding, would you give your account of what happened? It wasn't no whack-ass witchcraft.
You see? Just stupid little girls having fun.
Stupid? [Clears throat.]
He's right.
We were just having fun with the devil! [Spectators murmur.]
Oh, Christ.
It was horrible, Mr.
Hale.
Tituba was dancing with the devil, and I'm not saying I saw anything, but I'm pretty sure he penetrated her.
- All right.
- In the fart blaster! Ugh! Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.
Yeah, yeah.
[Imitates fart.]
Uh-huh.
Uh-huh.
Mm-hmm.
Uh, yes.
I also saw Goody Putnam dancing with the devil.
[Spectators gasp.]
Yes.
In the fart blaster? And the halibut hole! Right after she refused to give me a couple bucks to buy candy.
Hmm.
Who else? Who else? [Groaning.]
Stop! She's lying! She's trying to get revenge on my husband because he won't lay with her anymore! - And what proof have you? - I managed to capture them doing it.
Man: [gasps.]
Photograph? She's a witch! [Laughs.]
And she's a girl who had sex! Get her! Uh-oh.
[Indistinct talking.]
At least I can rest easy knowing that lying harlot Bitch Pudding will burn alongside me.
I'm not Bitch Pudding! I'm Betty! My awful cousin knocked me out in the bathroom, and now I'm here! Then where's Bitch Pud [Screams.]
[Clears throat.]
This has been Arthur Miller's "the Crucible".
Remember, kids, write a shitty, thinly veiled metaphor for McCarthyism, and you, too, can stick your limp-ass candle up Marilyn Monroe's wind tunnel.
Copyright Elton John and Bernie Taupin.
Peace! [Chicken clucking theme song.]
- Ba-gok! - Man: Bok.
[Monkey chatters.]
[Chatters.]
[Slap!.]

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