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♪♪
[ Thunder crashes ]
[ Theme music plays ]
♪♪
[ Whirring ]
[ Whirring ]
Man: It's alive!
[ Thunder rumbles ]
♪♪
[ Thunder crashes ]
♪♪
Announcer: Have you been injured while touring a chocolate factory?
I'll get you the snozberries you deserve.
♪ Larry Loompa -- He'll fight for you ♪
I was turned into a fucking giant blueberry,
and now I need to be juiced twice a day, or I'll explode.
Larry Loompa got me $3 million.
Don't get dopity screwed.
[ With lisp ] I was pulled through a taffy stretcher,
but thanks to Larry, I'm rich as shit.
Also, my penis is 37 inches long.
Can someone turn that fan off?
I was shot through a pneumatic chocolate tube.
The pressure blew out mine anus,
and I had to have a second anus constructed from a goat's anus,
but Mr. Loompa got me $17 million
for mine anus surgery. Anus.
[ Bleating ]
Announcer: Have you been turned into fruit, stretched like taffy,
nearly drowned in a chocolate river,
terrorized by fake Slugworth, dropped into a bad egg furnace,
got hepatitis from lickable wallpaper,
or are a goat who had your anus forcibly removed,
then call the offices of Larry H. Loompa today.
♪ Larry Loompa -- He'll fight for you ♪
[ Bleats ]
Anus.
Harold couldn't sleep, so he took his purple crayon
and drew a world of his own imagination.
Harold, what did I tell you about drawing
on the Goddamn walls?
You know what else is purple?
Bruises! Draw me some whiskey.
[ Glugs ] Aw, God, that is just what I needed.
[ Gagging ] [ Glass shatters ]
Harold had dreamed of this moment a thousand times.
Harold then drew himself a new father.
This dad never yelled
and had a three-year chip from AA.
He was also good at lifting things.
Harold and his new father sailed away
to a bright new tomorrow.
Harold's mother filed a missing-person report,
but she never saw her son again.
She hanged herself a year later.
The rope was purple.
Tricia? All right! From Bumble?
That's me. I've never dated a Treasure Troll before.
Well, strap in, baby, 'cause we are first class all the way.
All right! To first dates.
[ Slurps ] Delicious.
So, you're from Copenhagen?
♪♪
What is it?
Huh? Aah!
Huh?
No! Not all right!
No!
[ Sobbing ] No!
♪ And I love you, cha cha cha ♪
[ Light switch clicks, door closes ]
Ahh, another successful day at Chuck E. Cheese, huh?
Ugh, we get it! You own the place.
Hey, Pasquale, did you see that kid puke up his pepperoni?
Pasquale?
Pasquale!
I noticed him glitching, but I thought he was pranking us.
He is the funny one.
We gotta help him!
Pasquale! [ All grunting ]
Pasquale!
Well, we've done everything we can.
Everybody, run!
[ All grunting ]
Aah! Aah!
[ Elevator music plays ]
And one, two, three!
Ladies and gentlemen, the magic bullet!
[ Cheers and applause ]
Oh, my God, JFK's been shot!
[ Audience screams ]
[ Groans ]
[ Slurping ]
Oh, bother. All out of honey.
Well, plenty more where that came from.
What luck!
Why, there's nothing but dead bees in here.
Bees are dying everywhere, Pooh.
It's an epidemic, most likely caused by pesticides.
Without honey, whatever shall I do?
Pooh, you're a bear.
You can eat anything.
Pooh, hello! What shall we play to--
Aah!
Ohh, this tastes surprisingly delicious.
Jesus! I meant pine cones, Pooh.
[ Both laugh ]
Announcer: And now back to "Queer Eye."
I mean, I have no notes.
[ Laughter ]
[ Dance music plays ]
I'm Jerry Seinfeld.
I love cars, coffee, and comedy,
and this is "Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee."
The 1973 Dodge Challenger in Plum Crazy Purple
is perfect for today's guest,
Gotham's favorite funnyman, the Joker!
I just want to thank you for not picking me up
in a clown car, Jerry.
Who do you take me for, Carrot Top?
[ Laughs ] Scotty would definitely pull that shit.
He still slaying in Vegas? Sure.
You ever bomb in Vegas?
The last time I bombed in Vegas, there was a body count.
That's why they don't let me into the Luxor anymore,
because there's no Luxor anymore
[chuckles] because I bombed it.
I lost a friend in that explosion.
Was it Newman?
No.
I guess I'm bombing again.
A prop? Now who's Carrot Top?
No, it's a real bomb.
[ Laughing ]
[ Explosion ]
♪ The lips are connected to the asshole ♪
♪ The lips are connected to the asshole ♪
♪ The lips are connected to the asshole ♪
♪ And that's how you make a human centipede ♪
Everybody!
[ Muffled singing ]
♪ My mouth's not connected to an asshole ♪
♪ So Merry Christmas to me ♪
Announcer: Space -- the final frontier.
These are the voyages of the Pin Mate Starship Enterprise.
Sir, we're caught
in the Pin Mate's Klingon Cruiser's tractor beam.
Reverse starboard thrusters, Pin Mates Mr. Sulu.
Aye-aye, Pin Mates Captain Kirk.
All: Aah!
Pin Mates Captain, that is an illogical choice.
Your Pin Mates Vulcan logic won't save us,
Pin Mates Mr. Spock.
The Pin Mates Klingon cannons are powering up, sir.
Aah!
Whoa! Ooh!
Whoa!
Ohh! Aah!
Ooh! Oh! Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!
Whoa!
Oh!
Whoa!
Ooh-hoo!
Oh!
[ All screaming ]
Don't worry, ugly duckling. One day, you'll be --
Actually, I find the whole "ugly" narrative
to be hetero-normative and damaging,
and there are a number of niche Internet sex communities
that would love to have all...of...this.
I was gonna say, one day, you'll be a beautiful swan.
Oh, thank God! I thought I'd have to learn a skill.
I don't know what your problem is, Of-Ken.
You should have gotten pregnant by now.
Um, Commander Ken...
Don't say a word.
Hey, Rocky. I've got a friend request.
Hello, Moose. It is us, old American friends
from your youth, Bingo and Muffy.
Ha-ha-ha-ha!
Oh, boy. Old friends.
There's something suspicious about that account, Bullwinkle.
Speaking of old American things,
don't you miss good old days when flying squirrels
weren't taking hardworking moose jobs?
Hmm, I do generally remember things being better in the past.
Don't you want to make -- ooh --
I mean, America great again?
Those new Facebook friends are spreading
pretty incendiary comments, Bullwinkle.
Shut your cockhole, snowflake!
[ Gasps ]
Hello, Broseph.
Squirrel Lives Matter march against ignorant mooses
set for tomorrow.
Come join! Oh, boy.
Oh, boy, I will!
Hey, Rocky!
Watch me pull a squirrel out of his own ass.
I'll fucking kill you! Bullwinkle!
[ Both laughing evilly ]
Ariana, some say that the ponytail
has started to influence your life.
That's just a silly rumor.
Are you blinking an SOS in Morse code right now?
And are you now blinking,
"Stop talking about Morse code, or the ponytail will kill me"?
Aah!
And that's the word on Ariana's new album.
Come on, kids!
That rave's not gonna rave itself.
You're not our regular party bus driver/drug dealer.
Nope, he took some bad molly and chewed off his hand.
[ Laughs ] I'm Miss Frizzle.
I'm a substitute driver these days.
I used to be a teacher. What happened?
Let's just say, if you shrink down a bunch of 9-year-olds
and lose them in a cow's second stomach,
they will absolutely get turned into manure.
Ohh. Oh.
But I still know how to drive a flying bus, so here we go!
[ Tires squeal ]
[ All screaming ]
Hot air balloon -- We must be in wine country.
Let's go grab a frosé.
No, thank you!
[ All scream ]
The bus is out of control!
Ah-ha!
What are we supposed to do with these?
Take chances. Make mistakes.
What's that island?
Jump! Aah!
Whoa! Aah!
Quick, children, look for supplies.
Why should we trust you?
Listen here, you little sardine.
Before I was a school bus driver --
Yeah, you turned a bunch of kids into cow turds. We know.
And I drove a tour bus for Aerosmith in 1976.
That was some heavy shit, man.
You wanna talk about herpes...
No, thanks! ...I'll shrink you down
and show you herpes like you've never --
Aah!
Thank you!
Take my job, will ya?
It's our old bus driver, two-handed Harry.
Not anymore.
Let's celebrate!
♪♪
[ Gunshot ]
[ Gunshot ]
[ Gunshot ]
[ Gunshot ]
[ Gunshots ]
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