Original subtitles

Honey, I'm home.

Today, I, your eldest elder, am, uh...

You're 72.

Seventy-two years old.

I've lived long and witnessed many wonders.

But now I am old. I am slow.

And I get up 16 times in the middle of the night.

I can no longer keep up with the herd.

I straggle behind, attracting predators,

endangering my brethren and making us late for everything.

Don't act like you haven't noticed.

Therefore, I wish to be hurled from the highest cliff

into a tar pit.

Ooh!

But before I go...

Here it comes.

I now decree that, from this day forward,

all dinosaurs,

upon reaching their, uh...

Oh, 72nd birthday,

shall be hurled into a tar pit,

And this day shall be known as...

Hurling Day.

And so that this tradition remains holy and solemn,

each dinosaur shall be hurled by a loving relative.

Uh, excuse me.

Yes, in the back.

Uh, so this won't be a total loss,

could you make it that guys get to hurl their mother-in-laws?

Sure, why not?

Hurling Day! Hurling Day!

One more day till Hurling Day!

One more day till I throw your mother

over the cliff and into the pit.

Earl, it's supposed to be a solemn and holy day.

No. That's tomorrow.

Today's a day of saying, "Yipee, yipee!"

After 20 years of your mother on my back,

I get to haul her up to the top of the mountain

and fling her bony butt to oblivion,

solemnly and with dignity, of course.

Earl, this is Mother's big day.

Now, she's depending on you

to throw her in that nice section of the tar pit

where there's shade, next to her old friends, the Rosenfelds.

Oh, yeah, I'll do what I can,

as long as she agrees to sink quickly.

Hey, there's my little guy.

Want to give Daddy a kiss?

Not the mama, not the mama, not the mama,

not the mama, not the mama!

That is starting to bother me.

Hey, guys, Grandma's in the paper.

Let me see.

Give it here, Robbie.

Ah...

"Marriages, births, dismemberments,

large bites, hurlings." Here it is!

Here. "Ethyl Phillips, wife of... blah, blah, blah,

mother of... blah, blah, blah,

grandmother of... blah, blah, blah..."

Oh! Listen!

"to be hurled into the ooze

by her loving son-in-law, Earl Sinclair."

God, I love being a dinosaur!

So, Dad, what do you think it's like in the tar, anyway?

In the tar? You mean, actually in the tar?

Yeah.

Well... duh...

I'd have to say that it's dark,

it's peaceful, it's quiet.

No one really knows, son.

We'll all find out when our time comes. I gotta get to work.

- Oh, thanks, honey. - Bye, dear.

And tell him to stop asking such depressing questions.

Robbie, your grandmother's been looking forward to this day

for a long time now.

She's going to be reunited with Grandpa Louie.

I thought Grandpa went on a cruise.

You bought that?

Robbie.

Charlene, until now,

you've been too young to understand.

But I think you're emotionally mature enough now

to know the truth.

Oh.

When dinosaurs turn 72,

they're thrown into a tar pit.

Oh.

Does this outfit make me look fat?

I want you to think of the tar pit

as a wonderful place

where you'll want to spend eternity.

Oh, I get it. Just like the Galleria.

Yeah.

Hah.

Oh.

Hi, baby.

Shh! Look!

Well, I always felt I was was an herbivore

trapped in a carnivore's body.

Cross-eaters, today at four on Raptile.

What's that all about?

Eat.

Hey, pally boy, ready to give the mother-in-law

the old heave-ho?

Roy, please.

Fran's mother and I may have had our differences

for the past 20 years,

but I take no joy in what I have to do tomorrow.

Huh?

Hey, look at this. Roy, Roy, look.

Take a look at these beauties.

Oh, snatch me baldheaded.

Genuine mother-in-law

pterodactyl-skin hurling gloves!

Yeah, my father gave them to me on my wedding day.

- Look. Non-skid grip. - Oh.

These old babies have thrown a lot of old ladies.

- Yep. - Hey, Earl!

Hey, tomorrow's the big day, huh?

Yeah. How do you feel?

I mean, any thoughts in these final hours?

I just hope that when my turn comes to go into the tar,

those who knew me will lift a glass and say,

"Earl Sinclair, no genius, no big shot,

but did you see the loft he got on his mother-in-law?"

Hey, Earl, we just want you to know

tomorrow you're going out there for all of us.

Yeah, and remember,

lift with your knees.

Guys.

Times like this,

a guy feels very close to his buddies.

- We feel close to you. - Yeah, we do.

Sinclair, in here now!

Aah! Oh!

You sent for me, my captain?

Sinclair, I am a great and powerful dinosaur,

and you... well, you're a puny nothing.

Thank you, sir.

Because of my position and social standing,

I can say whatever I want to you,

and you have to flatter me in return!

That's a keen and brilliant observation, sir.

But tradition gives us one great equalizer:

Hurling Day.

One day, regardless of our station in life,

when the lowest of the low

can stand shoulder to shoulder

with the highest of the high.

- So, drink, Sinclair? - Wow!

I'm overwhelmed by your sudden lack of cruelty.

Well, uh...

uh, here.

- Nice gloves. - Mmm.

Thank you, sir. They were given to me by...

I'm speaking.

Yes, sir.

You know, it's been almost 30 years

since I tossed Mother Wilkerson into the goo.

That look on her face as she spiraled out of sight...

Ahh.

Ahh. Aah!

My, it's sad how the memories fade.

Good thing I got it on VHS.

Ooh.

Nice trajectory, sir.

Damn right.

The moment goes by so quickly, my captain.

Well, not on slo-mo. Ha!

Whoop, there she goes.

Bye-bye! Bye-bye!

Oh, this is... this is so inspiring.

It better be because tomorrow's your day, Sinclair,

and no one can take it away from you,

or I would've!

But remember, after tomorrow...

Lowest of the low?

For the rest of your life.

So savor the moment, Sinclair.

It's the only one you're ever gonna get.

Don't screw it up!

Yes, sir... no, sir.

Uh... door.

Aah!

Yep, she's in the tar.

Nice hang time, pally boy.

I can do better.

I've got to work on my follow-through.

But has anybody ever climbed back out of the tar pit?

No, son, once you're in, you're in.

Give me another mother-in-law.

Yeah. Ready!

Set, throw!

Uh, Dad, when Grandma goes into the tar pit,

is there life after that?

For me, there is.

You're losing elevation.

Robbie, you're breaking my concentration.

Tell me what I say to her when she comes over

for this birthday dinner. Goodbye, good luck,

sorry you're being tossed off a cliff?

Let me explain this to you.

She's lived her life. She has laid her eggs.

It is time for her to move on.

Now, you want dinner conversation,

ask her to tell you how useless she is.

Earl, Mother's here.

Not for long.

- Yeah. - Oh!

Mother, you look terrific.

Thank you, sweetheart. I had my scales done for the occasion.

Yeah, yeah.

Mom, tomorrow's the big day.

Yeah, the biggest.

I'm so excited, I feel like a schoolgirl.

Charlene, sweetheart, pour me a Scotch, will you?

OK. ♪ La la la la la ♪

- There's a good girl. - Hi, Gram.

There he is, Robbie, my baby.

Come here, let your grandma give you five kisses.

You must be beating girls off with a stick.

Oh, well...

Here's $5.

Aw, thanks, Grandma.

Come on, Mom, you're gonna spoil him.

Indulge me, Fran.

What am I saving it for?

Grandma, what's this worth to you?

Oh, wow, $100.

- And five kisses. - Oh!

That's for college.

I'm not going to college

unless I have something to wear!

It's the baby.

It's the grandma! Uh-oh.

Hello, Mother Phillips.

Hello, fat boy.

Hello, you vicious old...

Earl Snead Sinclair!

Oh, God. My whole name.

I'm asking for peace for one night.

- But she... - One night.

Twelve hours, and she's out of your life forever.

- But, Frannie... - Don't respond to her.

I do not want you to open your mouth.

She provokes me!

Close your mouth and don't let her provoke you.

- I am the mighty mega... - Close it!

Hello, fat boy.

You see that?

Oh, Mother. Come here, sweetheart.

Up we go, there.

You and I have had a lot of tough times, Earl.

I just want to say I'm sorry.

Jeez, Ethyl, you mean it, you're sorry?

Yeah, I'm sorry you married my daughter,

and I'm sorry she has to live in a cold, drafty hole

on the wrong side of the swamp

with someone who was a tree pusher 20 years ago,

and today is, surprise, still a tree pusher.

Frannie!

Mother.

I said I'm sorry.

Let's go. We're going over the cliff right now!

Dinner? Would anyone like dinner?

Only if it's fattening.

Eat all you want.

You'll be worth the hernia.

And I want you to have this.

It's a seashell necklace your grandfather gave me

on our tenth anniversary.

Wow! Hey, there's a bite taken out of it here.

It was a wild night. Don't ask.

Thanks for the great stuff, Grandma.

You know, you've lived such a fascinating life.

Well, I'm bored out of my mind.

I'll see you tomorrow, Ethyl.

It is getting late.

We should go to sleep.

- Good night. - Good night.

Is there anything I can get you?

Yeah, get a divorce and marry someone else.

There's still 12 hours left.

Good night, Mother.

Mary Ellen Sworkinson's daughter married a podiatrist

four hours before she got hurled.

She went into the tar a happy dinosaur,

hurled by a professional.

Oh.

Hmm.

What's the matter, sweetheart?

Not tired?

Aren't you worried about what's gonna happen to you tomorrow?

I'm looking forward to it.

I miss my Louie.

You don't remember your grandpa.

You were very young when he was hurled.

Aw, see that?

That's you on your Grandpa Louie's back,

hitting him on the head with a pot.

Wow. Is this me and you?

Yeah. Look, I had all my spikes.

This is when you visited me at camp.

Your Grandpa Louie was such a fisherman.

He could stick his head in the water,

come up with tuna fish, grouper, you name it.

Oh. A letter I wrote you.

It says, "Dear Grandma, how are you? I am good.

It is good here at camp. The food is good.

I hope you're good too.

Love, Robbie Sinclair."

Yeah, yeah, you always wrote me.

Grandma, I don't want you to go in the tar.

I've lived a long life. I've earned this.

But I don't want you to go.

You're a young, sweet kid, Robbie,

and you don't really know anything yet.

I know. I know, you're right.

Hurling's been around a million years.

I've been around 14 years.

So I can hardly believe I'm gonna do this.

- Let's go. - What are you gonna do?

Come on, we're getting out of here.

Rise and shine, Ethyl. Rise and shine!

Today's the last day of the rest of your life.

I'm wearing my brand-new silk Hurling Day tie, Ethyl.

Ethyl?

Ethyl?

Ethyl?

Ethyl!

Fran!

Robert, stop this. It's dangerous out this early.

Everything's hungry.

No, I'm not letting them throw you in the tar pit.

There's just no reason for it.

There is, dear. It's a time-honored tradition

started by a wise old dinosaur named Bob La Brea.

What's that?

Hide yourself.

Uh... uh...

Robbie, don't be a stupid kid!

Come on, Grandma.

Forget about me. Hide yourself.

Forget about me. Hide yourself.

I... I just couldn't leave you, Grandma.

I couldn't do it.

Now do you see why old dinosaurs go into the tar?

Take me home, dear.

Please let the old lady be all right.

Please, please, don't take this away from me!

Where have you been?

Don't get in an uproar, chuckles.

We were just out for a little walk.

I know where you went.

You do?

You went to throw yourself over the cliff without me,

but Robbie found you and brought you back.

Good boy. She may try again.

Keep an eye on her.

No problem.

Ethyl.

Now, listen, Ugh,

I'm expecting an important package this afternoon.

So whatever you do, don't open it.

I won't, Woodrow.

Hilarious high jinks with that talking caveman

on Mr. Ugh.

♪ I am Mr. Ugh ♪

Today at four.

Uh... Mom, could I talk to you for a second?

Yes, dear.

Uh... what would be the big deal

if nobody threw Grandma into the tar pit?

It would kill your father, dear.

It used to be that old dinosaurs slowed down the pack.

Now we live in houses.

It used to be old dinosaurs couldn't hunt.

Now we have supermarkets.

Isn't throwing Grandma off a cliff just a waste

of a perfectly good old lady?

I'm just asking.

What?

Since we're domesticated now,

there's nothing forcing us to hurl Mother, is there?

That's an interesting notion there, Fran.

Isn't it?

I just can't help wondering

where you came up with this interesting notion.

Well, I have to admit it's not actually my idea,

although the moment I heard it, it made so much sense.

Doesn't it make sense to you?

Oh, yeah, it certainly does.

But you know what I'm curious about?

Where did this idea come from originally?

If you think about it, it's a barbaric ritual.

It's not barbaric!

It's holy and solemn.

Earl, you're overreacting.

Fran, dear, I'm merely stating my position.

There is no position.

Earl, I've made my decision.

You're not throwing Mother.

- I'm throwing her! - Ow.

You want to sleep on the couch for the rest of your life?

I'm throwing her, Fran. Ethyl!

I'm throwing her. I'm throwing her.

I married you so I could throw her.

So is the hat too much?

Change of schedule. We're taking off early.

Earl!

Uh... look, it's Godzilla!

Huh, what?

You had to eat a big breakfast.

Just push the chair, fat boy.

Come on. Come on.

Slow down. I want to fix my face for my Louie.

You look gorgeous, Ethyl.

Oh, do you think so?

Yeah. Get your foot off the brake.

Oh, shut up.

Push, push!

OK, Ethyl, I wrote this speech...

Uh... you can read it on the way down.

Earl, stop!

OK, I'm ready.

No, you're not, Grandma. You don't have to go.

Dad, a million years ago,

some old dinosaur did what was right in his time

and created this hurling thing.

You can do what's right in your time and go down in history.

You could be a legend among dinosaurs!

Or have momentary satisfaction

of throwing grandma off the cliff.

You should think about this long and hard.

Watch your toes, son.

Listen, Dad!

No, you listen!

This is my moment.

This is the time when the lowest of the low

can stand with the highest of the high.

If I lose this, my life means nothing.

Well, then I guess my life means nothing, Dad.

What are you saying?

When the time comes, I'm not throwing you.

Why the hell not?

Because you're my father and just because you get old

doesn't mean you're not my father anymore.

Oh, jeez!

Hello? Hello?

Am I suddenly invisible?

Why doesn't somebody ask me how I feel?

How do you feel, Mother?

I'm an old dinosaur.

There's no safe place for me anymore in this world.

You could live with us in Dad's den!

That's it! They're both going over.

Times are changing, Earl.

Today? Do they have to change today?

She's just an old dinosaur.

She's just gonna be in the way.

She's only old because she's lived a long time.

Maybe there are things we can learn from her.

Maybe how we treat our old dinosaurs is wrong.

Maybe it's better to keep them than throw them away.

Grandma, just tell him you don't want to go.

Robbie, darling,

I've done everything there is to do in this life.

At my age, what do I have to live for?

Fran, I'm not letting your mother move into my house

to spend the rest of her days making my life miserable.

Take me home, dear.

Yes! Cool! Excellent!

I'm coming, Louie.

Earl, stop.

Fran, if you love me, throw me in.

Earl, it's just for the rest of her life.

How long can that possibly be?

How should I know, Fran?

Nobody ever died of getting old before.

You know, I feel like I could live

to be a million!

Jeez!

Hey, it was a mighty toss.

I mean, I almost threw her past the tar pit entirely.

And then-then-then she came down and down,

and then, uh...

She bounced!

Yeah, she bounced right back up

and landed back in her chair.

It's a miracle, they tell me.

So I gotta let her move in. That's the truth.

Earl, you killed us.