Squidbillies (2005) s02e09 Episode Script
Bubba Trubba
% My oldest son was born an albino % % My youngest is covered in hair % % The middle one says he's a homosexual % % The other seven are gone, l don't know where % % and l don't care % % l just don't care % - My turn.
- Hell, no.
- Man, let me drive that thing.
Come on! - Do not touch the trim! And this taco-muncher says, ''Oh, please don't fire me, mang.
'' Mang.
Hell, l don't know how you spell ''man'' in ol' Mexico but in America, the ''G'' is silent.
''G'' is silent.
Just like my ideal woman.
He's gonna do it.
He's gonna do it.
Do it to it.
Plumber Bubba.
- You ever hear his tape? - Uh, Daddy, that's this tape.
Shut up, now, boy.
l'm tryin' to hear my tape.
- Tape's over.
- Flip it again.
Hell, yeah! We gonna flip it again.
Ain't you gonna see the same dumbass jokes live tonight? Tonight? Plumber Bubba? ls he in town tonight? He's going to blow the roof off the First Baptist.
- Do it to it, baby.
- Daddy, can l go? Daddy, l wanna go.
- Can l go? - l don't know, son.
This here is mature material.
''Come on in, Nazis.
Help yourself to the cheese.
'' He skewered the French.
Daddy, come on, now.
l can handle it.
- All right, then.
You coming.
- Hell, yeah! - Here's Granny's ticket.
- No! My decision is final.
Unless y'all want to fistificuff for my amusement.
Y'all don't want none o' this, let me tell you, Granny.
l guess l'll just listen to the tape again.
The tape comes with me.
Early.
Early? Sheriff.
You all right? Couldn't be better.
Well, you all duct-taped to a chair and all that.
This is my ejector seat.
l had a little plane crash, but ain't no biggie, you know.
- We'll see you later.
- Get his bill fold.
- All right, then.
- No, no, no, stop.
lt's contagious.
lt is? What is? Plane crashes.
See you later, now.
How come your lips ain't jibber-wiggling when the sound came out? l had botox this morning.
See you later, now.
But what about that rope around your neck? - New tie.
You like it? - Yeah, but - Don't be a stranger, now.
See ya.
- Come on Rusty.
- Plane crashes is intagious.
- Wait a minute.
Are y'all going to that Plumber Bubba show tonight? - Well, hell, yeah.
We gonna do it to it.
- Do it to it.
Boy, l'll tell you.
l love his observations about things that don't really happen down here.
- Y'all do it to it, now.
- Are you sure you don't need no help? No, no.
l'm just going to sit here and rest a spell.
Maybe beat my own brains out with a hammer.
Because l cannot behave, can l? You're gonna pay for this tonight, by God.
Howdy.
So, anyways l tell my Hummerzine pilot to drive me over yonder down to my vineyard in Nantucket for my new Zeppelin launch, and he come back at me going ''A-dicka-dicka-globba- gobba-ding-dong.
'' l said, ''Where are you from, boy?'' He said, ''Dubai.
'' Dubai? Well, then, do-buy yourself a plane ticket back there you towel-totin' camel-kicker.
l later come to learn that Dicka-globba-ding-dong was over here just gettin' away from the oppression of his homeland.
So l turned to him, l says, ''You're free now, my friend.
''Free to get that cow pie off the bottom of my wrestlin' boots.
''Grab yourself a popsicle stick.
Scrape it out.
You on the clock.
'' l liked to wanna shove my cloven reptilian hook-foot up his biphibious anal pore.
Y'all hear me out there? We have a sound issue.
ls this on? - Damn it.
He's bombing.
- Reptilian hook-foot? - Hell, that ain't funny.
- That ain't funny.
Drop the vice grips, jackass! Yeah.
l got in.
Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice What have we here? Almost What? l think l just dropped my vice grip.
Looks like you've got a crack in your rear manifold.
- Let me see that ass! - Do it to it.
Gonna probably have to replace the assket.
Ass gas.
Pass gas.
Y'all get it? See my butthole? - Now he's got us back.
Hell, yeah.
- Y'all do it to it.
- Yeah! He done it to it tonight! - That was the bomb! Can l get me a Country Mind Helmet? - Hell, no.
- Well, they free.
Do it to it! - What does it do? - lt lt do it to it.
All right.
Do it.
lt feels good.
Yeah.
Turn it up.
That's good.
Right there.
Right there.
Now youpunch me in the face.
Right there.
Yeah.
There you go.
lfeelalive! Oh, my God! Damn.
That was fun! Hey, Granny, put this here hat on.
This here is going to be a twisty checkerboard flying into a black hole on the talons of an eagle.
lmbecile.
Graphics go on the outside of the ship.
- Who's steering? - Who? Who's doing what now? Now you punch me in the face.
lt's the rapture! Go get my Jesus wig.
- Daddy, look! - Hot damn almighty.
- lt's Plumber Bubba.
- No, no, no.
Behind him.
That big ol' spaceship.
Damn, it's Plumber Bubba! We seen him at the First Baptist just the other night tonight.
That ain't Jesus.
Fake me out.
Do it to it.
Oh, God.
Oh, my God! A space foreigner! Has taken over Plumber Bubba's body! - Let's beat it out of him for America.
- No, no, no.
l'm the one known as Plumber Bubba.
l mean, do it to it.
See? So you Plumber Bubba, is that right? Then fix this here sombitchin' hot tub.
Go on.
Well, this here's a bathtub on top of a stove.
- He's right, Daddy.
- We ain't got no plumbin' in here.
- Hell, a real plumber would know that! - Well, you didn't give me a chance to say And l won't.
You ain't no damn plumber, and l'm starting to doubt your Bubbery.
So who the hell are you, anyhow? l am Ploom-err Boob-ah from the planet A-la-ba-ma.
l've traveled many parsecs to your orb only to tell a few jokes and harvest intello-secretions from the brainminds of my hyper-intelligent fans.
You mean like Aunt Lil? Her and many geniuses like her.
For even as we speak her massive brainpower is being harnessed to create an unspeakable weapon.
Like a big old 30 ought 6 pointed at us from, like a space moon or somethin'? lt will eliminate all creatures, matter and time, leaving only Memorial Day weekend.
That is really horrible as hell.
Say that joke.
Come on.
Do it to it.
Do it for my voicemail.
lf you's wantin' to destroy us, then why you tellin' us all this? Because, son, l have grown to admire your culture through mocking it.
l long to inhale your mint juleps and sweet teas through my absorption tube-gill kick my reptilian hook-feet up on the porch swing and witness the setting of your single sun.
Look here, you might be a carpetbagger space Yankee sombitch what come down here from up north of space to take our brain juice but you with us now, OK? But them elders, they gonna look for me, man.
They best bring themselves a sack lunch if they gonna tangle - with the Cuyler boys, right, Daddy? - A country boy can survive.
A country boy can survive.
- He ain't gonna live, is he? - Who? Him? Hell, no.
Must have space fluids.
Red, circle lookin' thing.
Hey, Granny.
Have you seen this old boy's space fluids? Ploom-err Boob-a, you are in violation.
Getoffmyland.
Ploom-err - Hold on.
He ain't finished yet.
- You tested me and l'm about to pass when l whoopthat ass.
- Ain't no backing down now! - Nut up or shut up! That's what l told him.
Ploom-err Boob-a, we need more brains.
We have you booked at the Bo-at show in Chat-ah-noo-ga.
Go on.
Absorb the space fluids.
You crave them.
They will quench the hurt within your soul.
Come back to the fold.
Do it to it.
Hey! Back the hell off! This boy's Southern now.
He don't need your juices.
l need 'em.
Come on, man.
l'll pay you.
l'm jonesin' hard! l got the itch.
Fine, Sou-th-ern man.
You have doone it done it for the last time.
Vaporize them.
Hold it.
Hold on, now.
Hold on.
Go ahead.
Say it.
One more time before we die.
Do it to it.
Come on.
Doitto Now, that is disappointing.
- Go on.
Press the thing.
- l didit's not working.
Slap the pig's ass! Nothing.
Damn it, l told you.
Japan, lndia, that's where the brains are and you kept saying how you just ''love'' the South and how good the food is and the asinine folk art.
You said you liked my piece.
lt's a backward ''R'' painted on a frying pan.
Maybe we should've made the chicken and dumpling Toby Keith gravy grit half truck ton That sounds stupid as l say it.
- All right.
Will this thing pop a wheelie? - We gonna find out.
Smack that pig.
lt do not.
BloodLogic
- Hell, no.
- Man, let me drive that thing.
Come on! - Do not touch the trim! And this taco-muncher says, ''Oh, please don't fire me, mang.
'' Mang.
Hell, l don't know how you spell ''man'' in ol' Mexico but in America, the ''G'' is silent.
''G'' is silent.
Just like my ideal woman.
He's gonna do it.
He's gonna do it.
Do it to it.
Plumber Bubba.
- You ever hear his tape? - Uh, Daddy, that's this tape.
Shut up, now, boy.
l'm tryin' to hear my tape.
- Tape's over.
- Flip it again.
Hell, yeah! We gonna flip it again.
Ain't you gonna see the same dumbass jokes live tonight? Tonight? Plumber Bubba? ls he in town tonight? He's going to blow the roof off the First Baptist.
- Do it to it, baby.
- Daddy, can l go? Daddy, l wanna go.
- Can l go? - l don't know, son.
This here is mature material.
''Come on in, Nazis.
Help yourself to the cheese.
'' He skewered the French.
Daddy, come on, now.
l can handle it.
- All right, then.
You coming.
- Hell, yeah! - Here's Granny's ticket.
- No! My decision is final.
Unless y'all want to fistificuff for my amusement.
Y'all don't want none o' this, let me tell you, Granny.
l guess l'll just listen to the tape again.
The tape comes with me.
Early.
Early? Sheriff.
You all right? Couldn't be better.
Well, you all duct-taped to a chair and all that.
This is my ejector seat.
l had a little plane crash, but ain't no biggie, you know.
- We'll see you later.
- Get his bill fold.
- All right, then.
- No, no, no, stop.
lt's contagious.
lt is? What is? Plane crashes.
See you later, now.
How come your lips ain't jibber-wiggling when the sound came out? l had botox this morning.
See you later, now.
But what about that rope around your neck? - New tie.
You like it? - Yeah, but - Don't be a stranger, now.
See ya.
- Come on Rusty.
- Plane crashes is intagious.
- Wait a minute.
Are y'all going to that Plumber Bubba show tonight? - Well, hell, yeah.
We gonna do it to it.
- Do it to it.
Boy, l'll tell you.
l love his observations about things that don't really happen down here.
- Y'all do it to it, now.
- Are you sure you don't need no help? No, no.
l'm just going to sit here and rest a spell.
Maybe beat my own brains out with a hammer.
Because l cannot behave, can l? You're gonna pay for this tonight, by God.
Howdy.
So, anyways l tell my Hummerzine pilot to drive me over yonder down to my vineyard in Nantucket for my new Zeppelin launch, and he come back at me going ''A-dicka-dicka-globba- gobba-ding-dong.
'' l said, ''Where are you from, boy?'' He said, ''Dubai.
'' Dubai? Well, then, do-buy yourself a plane ticket back there you towel-totin' camel-kicker.
l later come to learn that Dicka-globba-ding-dong was over here just gettin' away from the oppression of his homeland.
So l turned to him, l says, ''You're free now, my friend.
''Free to get that cow pie off the bottom of my wrestlin' boots.
''Grab yourself a popsicle stick.
Scrape it out.
You on the clock.
'' l liked to wanna shove my cloven reptilian hook-foot up his biphibious anal pore.
Y'all hear me out there? We have a sound issue.
ls this on? - Damn it.
He's bombing.
- Reptilian hook-foot? - Hell, that ain't funny.
- That ain't funny.
Drop the vice grips, jackass! Yeah.
l got in.
Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice grips! Vice What have we here? Almost What? l think l just dropped my vice grip.
Looks like you've got a crack in your rear manifold.
- Let me see that ass! - Do it to it.
Gonna probably have to replace the assket.
Ass gas.
Pass gas.
Y'all get it? See my butthole? - Now he's got us back.
Hell, yeah.
- Y'all do it to it.
- Yeah! He done it to it tonight! - That was the bomb! Can l get me a Country Mind Helmet? - Hell, no.
- Well, they free.
Do it to it! - What does it do? - lt lt do it to it.
All right.
Do it.
lt feels good.
Yeah.
Turn it up.
That's good.
Right there.
Right there.
Now youpunch me in the face.
Right there.
Yeah.
There you go.
lfeelalive! Oh, my God! Damn.
That was fun! Hey, Granny, put this here hat on.
This here is going to be a twisty checkerboard flying into a black hole on the talons of an eagle.
lmbecile.
Graphics go on the outside of the ship.
- Who's steering? - Who? Who's doing what now? Now you punch me in the face.
lt's the rapture! Go get my Jesus wig.
- Daddy, look! - Hot damn almighty.
- lt's Plumber Bubba.
- No, no, no.
Behind him.
That big ol' spaceship.
Damn, it's Plumber Bubba! We seen him at the First Baptist just the other night tonight.
That ain't Jesus.
Fake me out.
Do it to it.
Oh, God.
Oh, my God! A space foreigner! Has taken over Plumber Bubba's body! - Let's beat it out of him for America.
- No, no, no.
l'm the one known as Plumber Bubba.
l mean, do it to it.
See? So you Plumber Bubba, is that right? Then fix this here sombitchin' hot tub.
Go on.
Well, this here's a bathtub on top of a stove.
- He's right, Daddy.
- We ain't got no plumbin' in here.
- Hell, a real plumber would know that! - Well, you didn't give me a chance to say And l won't.
You ain't no damn plumber, and l'm starting to doubt your Bubbery.
So who the hell are you, anyhow? l am Ploom-err Boob-ah from the planet A-la-ba-ma.
l've traveled many parsecs to your orb only to tell a few jokes and harvest intello-secretions from the brainminds of my hyper-intelligent fans.
You mean like Aunt Lil? Her and many geniuses like her.
For even as we speak her massive brainpower is being harnessed to create an unspeakable weapon.
Like a big old 30 ought 6 pointed at us from, like a space moon or somethin'? lt will eliminate all creatures, matter and time, leaving only Memorial Day weekend.
That is really horrible as hell.
Say that joke.
Come on.
Do it to it.
Do it for my voicemail.
lf you's wantin' to destroy us, then why you tellin' us all this? Because, son, l have grown to admire your culture through mocking it.
l long to inhale your mint juleps and sweet teas through my absorption tube-gill kick my reptilian hook-feet up on the porch swing and witness the setting of your single sun.
Look here, you might be a carpetbagger space Yankee sombitch what come down here from up north of space to take our brain juice but you with us now, OK? But them elders, they gonna look for me, man.
They best bring themselves a sack lunch if they gonna tangle - with the Cuyler boys, right, Daddy? - A country boy can survive.
A country boy can survive.
- He ain't gonna live, is he? - Who? Him? Hell, no.
Must have space fluids.
Red, circle lookin' thing.
Hey, Granny.
Have you seen this old boy's space fluids? Ploom-err Boob-a, you are in violation.
Getoffmyland.
Ploom-err - Hold on.
He ain't finished yet.
- You tested me and l'm about to pass when l whoopthat ass.
- Ain't no backing down now! - Nut up or shut up! That's what l told him.
Ploom-err Boob-a, we need more brains.
We have you booked at the Bo-at show in Chat-ah-noo-ga.
Go on.
Absorb the space fluids.
You crave them.
They will quench the hurt within your soul.
Come back to the fold.
Do it to it.
Hey! Back the hell off! This boy's Southern now.
He don't need your juices.
l need 'em.
Come on, man.
l'll pay you.
l'm jonesin' hard! l got the itch.
Fine, Sou-th-ern man.
You have doone it done it for the last time.
Vaporize them.
Hold it.
Hold on, now.
Hold on.
Go ahead.
Say it.
One more time before we die.
Do it to it.
Come on.
Doitto Now, that is disappointing.
- Go on.
Press the thing.
- l didit's not working.
Slap the pig's ass! Nothing.
Damn it, l told you.
Japan, lndia, that's where the brains are and you kept saying how you just ''love'' the South and how good the food is and the asinine folk art.
You said you liked my piece.
lt's a backward ''R'' painted on a frying pan.
Maybe we should've made the chicken and dumpling Toby Keith gravy grit half truck ton That sounds stupid as l say it.
- All right.
Will this thing pop a wheelie? - We gonna find out.
Smack that pig.
lt do not.
BloodLogic