Original subtitles

Uh, well, darling, it's me, Elvira Mistress of the Dark.

And until somebody turns the prompter back on,

I'm gonna remain in the dark.

Oh, there, that's much more better.

Oh, gosh, I wouldn't know what to say if someone

didn't put the words in my mouth.

And believe me, I've had worse things in my mouth.

Hello darlings, it's me, that value meal

that always supersized, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark.

And tonight we're choking on

Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death.

And if you axe me, the only thing that could help me

get this down is if it came with chips.

Ow, God, holy guacamole.

God, I'm glad I didn't ask for salsa.

Anyway, Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death

is the pits.

But if you're fan of boobs,

which most boobs are, then this is your movie.

It's rated R for brrr-easts,

and it has an all-star cast of

hot babes with big bazoomies,

including former Playboy playmate,

and wife of Gene Simmons from Kiss, Shannon Tweed.

They met at the dungeon at the Playboy mansion.

You know, Hef once asked me if I would take it off for Playboy,

and I said, heck yeah, I'll take it off for any boy,

just not some creepy old dude in a bathrobe and slippers.

And speaking of bunnies,

this movie also features a character named Bunny.

Since the movie, the actress playing her has had

a meteoric career, meaning that it crashed off

the Yucatan peninsula destroying all life within 40 miles.

I'm sorry, but we can't all be stars,

otherwise there wouldn't be anyone around to kiss my ass.

So some of you are just gonna have to settle for being part

of the hemorrhoid belt,

which is on the backside of the asteroid belt.

Anyway, also featured in our all-star cast

of top-heavy ta-tas is Adrienne Barbeau.

Now, she's the daughter of Maude Adams and

the ex-wife of horror filmmaker John Carpenter.

Kill him, now!

Oh, I guess they're no longer talking.

I think Adrienne Barbeau must have been in a fog

when she married the movie's director

because she dumped him during her escape from New York?

Get it?

Then forget it.

Anyway, Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death

is a movie with a message.

Next time, come up with a shorter title for your film,

you know, like Cannibal Women Who Sacrifice

and Eat Their Men.

Or, If you Can't Beat 'Em, Eat 'Em.

Seriously, these broads are nuts,

but I can relate because while the only nuts

I wanna eat grow on trees,

I do enjoy eating a date or two on occasion.

Well, I hope you're hungry because mama's

serving up a manwich of a movie prepared

by those galloping gourmet gals of guys

the Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death.

Bon Appétit.

( jungle sounds )

We're lost.

Now we're not, look!

Over there!

- Sam. - Yeah?

I think we should head back. We're getting in too deep.

But-- wait a second.

What's that I hear?

( distant laughing )

It sounds like women... laughing.

Let's get out of here.

No. No. Come on, man, don't be such a coward.

Let's check this out.

Boy, National Geographic, and I do mean graphic.

Look at them, they're beautiful.

Aren't they the most lovely,

sensuous, inviting women you've ever seen?

Let's get out of here.

What, are you nuts? Look at them.

They're dangerous.

They don't look dangerous.

They look lonely.

Well, I'm getting out of here.

Well, I'm going to go introduce myself.

Yoo-hoo, ladies!

Ladies!

Yes!

Ah!

( shouting )

Oh, hi. Hi girls.

Peace?

Uh, let's see, uh, friends?

Come on, guys. I just wanted an avocado.

Friends.

Throughout history the dominant sex

would subjugate the weaker,

just as the Chinese bound the feet of young girls

to cripple them into helplessness,

so did the Amazon women break the legs of boys to make them subservient.

Is it possible for men and women to co-exist as equals?

( bell rings )

That's the subject we'll tackle in our next class.

Dr. Hunt, I really love your class.

Well, thank you, Bunny. You can call me Margo.

I like it so much, I've been thinking about changing

my major from home economics to feminist studies,

but I wasn't sure if you had any feminist cooking classes.

I don't think we do, no.

Interesting thought though.

I mean, the idea of being socially conditioned

to be a sex object.

Wait until I tell the girls in the sorority.

Bunny, I think you should take a few more classes

in women studies before you decide to switch majors.

But Dr. Hunt, I know I want to be a liberated girl.

I can just feel it in my toes.

It could be those pointy boots.

- Margo. - Dean Stockwell.

Dr. Hunt, these gentlemen from

the United States government would like to talk to you.

This is Mr. Ford Maddox, U.S. Department of Agriculture,

and Colonel Mattel, National Security Commission Avocado Affairs.

Avocado affairs?

Miss Hunt, this is a matter of national importance.

- We need to speak to you immediately. - Alone.

Dr. Hunt, 98 percent of that avocados produced

in the United States come from the state of California.

Yeah. Now you see my point?

Most of these come from a jungle area that spreads

from Bakersfield to the Mexican border, the avocado belt.

I'm aware of that.

What does it have to do with me?

Miss Hunt, maybe you don't get the point.

Avocados are vital to this nation's security interests.

The communists are already in control of Nicaragua,

and Guatemala and El Salvador are strife with revolution.

California is the last secure supply of avocadoes in the free world.

We're on the verge of a major avocado gap with the Soviet Union.

Back in the Kremlin, Gorbachev is just chuckling over his taquitos.

I still don't see what that has to do with me.

Doctor, have you ever taken a loyalty oath?

Colonel, let me handle this.

As I was saying, most of the avocadoes

from the United States come from the avocado belt,

but they are harvested only on the perimeter of the jungle.

Because, as we all know, the interior is

completely wild and uncharted.

Anyone that strays too close to the heart

of the Avocado Jungle never returns.

Why?

That's a very good question, Bunny.

( giggles )

Perhaps Dr. Hunt would like to answer it.

It's-- it's only a legend, really.

We're convinced that they're real.

Who?

The piranha women.

Piranha women? Who are they?

They are ancient commune of feminists, so radical,

so militant, so left of center,

they-- they eat their men.

Oh, that. Well, if I like I guy you just--

They don't eat their men like that, Bunny.

More like a black widow spider.

They have sex with their men and they kill him.

Then they tear them into strips like beef jerky

and eat them with guacamole, so legend has it.

They are more than a legend.

They're a major agricultural problem.

It used to be safe for avocado pickers

to venture within 20 miles of the jungles edge.

But lately the piranha women have broadened their hold.

No one is safe anywhere in the avocado belt.

Well, if they're that much trouble,

why don't you just send in the troops and round them up.

Colonel Mattel?

Fact is we tried.

We sent in three divisions armored with air support, the best men we have.

And?

They got whooped.

They didn't play fair.

Our men are trained for state of the art high-tech warfare.

Piranha women were using knives and spears.

Officers got confused and they--

well, we found these at the edge of the jungle.

Dog tags?

Look closely, they're covered with guacamole dip.

Ew.

Now do you get my point, doctor?

Your sisters in the jungle are eating the few and the proud.

Control yourself, Colonel.

Look, naturally we would prefer a military solution.

But frankly the U.S. military

hasn't had a lot of luck in jungle warfare lately.

So we're forced to negotiate with the piranha women.

That's where you come in.

We want you to go into the jungle

and try to reason with these man eaters.

I can't do that Mr. Maddox.

We just want the piranha women to move out of

the avocado jungle to--

to a reservation in Malibu.

Deluxe condominiums.

Pool, sauna, ample parking, total luxury living.

We are even willing, at the government's expense,

to convert the exercise room,

that they may maintain their bizarre sacrificial rituals.

Let me come to the point.

We don't care if these girls want to eat their men.

That's the piranha man's problem.

We just want the avocadoes,

and we're willing to pay for them.

I'm sorry. The answer is still no.

Just like you girls to stick together.

Why don't you tell us the real reason

you're not going to go into that jungle?

You'd like to see the United States humiliated

by a communist avocado yield.

I think you'd like to eat me right now, wouldn't you, Dr. Hunt?

- Dr. Hunt wouldn't-- - Colonel, control yourself.

Dr. Hunt is a respected middle-of-the-road feminist,

and I'm sure she'll be happy to cooperate with us,

especially when she considers how much

this university depends upon grants

from the defense department

for its space weaponry program.

And if Miss Hunt--

Dr. Hunt, is still unable to see the logic in assisting us,

I'm sure Dean Stockwell will explain it to her.

Won't you, Dean?

Now, now, now, gentlemen.

I will not tolerate tactics of this kind.

This university is a bastion of intellectual freedom,

and I am sworn to protect that freedom.

I will not tolerate my professors being coerced

into anything against their will,

no matter how much political pressure

is put on me personally.

Margo, you will do exactly as they tell you,

or I will cut your funding off and you can kiss your tenure goodbye.

- Comprehendo? - Mm-hmm.

The real question here is whether

or not this project is worthy of

Spritzer College's involvement.

What do you say, Doc?

I guess I'm going in the jungle.

Terrific. Nice seeing you.

Thanks again for your help, Dean.

Oh, anytime.

Mr. Maddox, there's something you're not telling me.

Why, what do you mean?

You don't expect me to believe I'm the first feminist

you've sent in to try and reason with the piranha women.

What's really going on in that jungle?

I suppose you have the right to know the truth.

Two years ago we sent into the Avocado Jungle

a leading feminist scholar, Dr. Kurtz.

Dr. Kurtz?

Internationally famous author of "Smart Women, Stupid Insensitive Men"?

Yes.

Well, that explains her sudden disappearance

from the talk show circuit.

What happened to her?

We really don't know.

She may have been killed, or perhaps

they're holding her prisoner.

It was shortly after her expedition

that the piranha women went on a rampage.

Well, I guess now that you know, you'll refuse to go.

Quite the contrary.

Now I know I must go.

No, Bunny, you can't come.

Dr. Hunt, why can't I go with you?

Bunny, look, nobody's ever returned from the Avocado Jungle.

There'll be countless dangers and perils along the way.

I can't take a sophomore into the wilderness.

You don't have the skills or training, and besides,

you haven't even finished your general ed requirements.

Now, I'm sorry, Bunny. It's just too dangerous.

Bunny, baby. Hey, good looking.

- How you doing? - Hi Chuckie.

Hi. Bunny babe, the super party boys at the Delta Epsilon

are having another super party this Friday night.

You're not doing anything, are you?

Well, I wanted to do something, but I guess I'm not.

Great! Great.

Look, this is gonna be a toga party and a beer bust.

And for special girls like you,

we are going to be having a wet t-shirt contest.

But all my t-shirts are dry.

( laughing )

Bunny, don't worry about that.

The fraternity brothers, we're gonna take care of you.

Bunny, you ever do any mud wrestling?

I--

You're coming with me.

I can go?

You'd be safer in the jungle.

Bye Chuckie.

Patricia, have those filing cabinets I ordered come in yet?

No. I've had them on backorder for two weeks.

Hmm, never mind.

I'm going to do some field research,

and I need some supplies.

Okay. Three legal-size pads, 10 manila envelopes,

Dictaphone recorder, and four one-hour tapes.

I need a bowie knife, first aid kit,

100 feet of nylon mountain climbing rope,

breach-loading revolver and holster.

A thousand round of ammunition.

Full metal jacket, hollow point, or Teflon coated?

Which do you think would be best for fighting

the dangers that lurk inside a hostile jungle environment?

I would alternate hollow and Teflon bullets in the chamber.

That way you have maximum stopping power,

but still armor-piercing capability.

Dr. Hunt!

Yoo-hoo! Yoo-hoo!

I'm ready!

Oh, Bunny, don't you think you could have worn something a little more practical?

We're going into unchartered jungle.

Well, I do have a pair of flats in my suitcase.

Well, never mind.

If you get in trouble, you can wear something of mine.

Oh, good.

And I brought along some great lingerie we can share.

Why do the piranha women eat their men?

Well, primitive cultures often use

overly simplistic methods of dealing with inter-tribal conflicts.

The piranha women probably figure that the problems

that arise between men and women naturally

in any relationship, are best solved by ritualized killing.

Do a lot of feminists eat men?

No, Bunny. Not many.

You have to understand that the piranha women

are a primitive, ancient, radical offshoot

of the women's movement, and most feminists

like myself and Dr. Kurtz,

we believe in equality between the sexes,

not the domination of women over men.

And there aren't any modern feminists

that advocate cannibalism, at least not since the sixties.

San Bernardino, a rough speck of civilization

on the edge of the avocado belt.

We'll head down to some local establishments

and see if we can find a mercenary to guide us through the jungle.

I've never been to San Bernardino before.

Don't worry, Bunny, we'll be all right.

( chattering )

Hey, Chickies, can I buy you a drink?

No, thanks.

When I offer a chick a drink, I--

I am not a chick.

I'm an ethnohistorian with a doctorate in cultural anthropology.

Got that?

- Yes, Doctor. - Good.

Now, I understand that your compulsion to assault women

verbally stems from a constant exposure

to violent and sexist images from a male-dominated media.

Therefore, I won't blow a hole in your head.

Thank you.

I'm from the department of feminist studies at Spritzer College.

I want to hire a mercenary for a very dangerous job.

Ha!

I'm Anvil, a crazy ex-Vietnam vet

who hires himself out to the highest bidder.

I can rape, pillage,

and napalm an entire southeast Asian village single handedly.

( gunshot )

I am Bushido, the world's greatest ninja.

I am a killing machine, master of all

the deadly arts, and if you need a mercenary

to kill and to maim, I am the best.

( grunting )

I am the black-masked avenger,

world champion wrestler and weight lifter.

I don't need no weapons or guns.

I can crush men with my bare hands.

I can squish 'em, smash 'em,

and pummel them.

Look at this!

Ah!

So what is your job?

You want to burn down a small town?

Attack an impenetrable fortress?

Or crush an army?

I need a guide to take me through the Avocado Jungle.

The Avocado Jungle?

I want to make contact with the piranha women.

The piranha women?

Excuse me, Miss.

I've got to go to the veteran's center

for some counseling. Maybe next time.

I've forgot, I'm busy

with a showing of The Seven Samurai

tonight at Nuart and-- bye.

Go on Nutrisystem, yeah.

Lose a little weight.

Jungle trip is out of the question right now.

Well, let that be a lesson to you, Bunny.

A bunch of violent brutes wrapped up

in a blanket of male machismo.

Well, they're happy to victimize the helpless,

but one thing sends them scurrying away.

One thing strips their phony courage.

The threat of a strong women.

Not so fast, Dr. Margo Hunt, Miss Ethnohistorian.

There are still some real men left in this world,

men who haven't been castrated by the years

of feminist propaganda that corrupted

the public school system and infected prime-time television.

Men who believe that nature designed women to cook,

nurture children, and pose for Penthouse magazine.

Real men who see our role in this world is to love,

protect, and yes,

I'm not afraid to say it, dominate women--

I'll go into the Avocado Jungle with you.

I'll lead you to the piranha women.

I'm man enough to face the dangers

that lurk in the dark bosom of the jungle.

Ah!

Ahh!

Ow!

I'm not afraid of the piranha women

anymore than I'm afraid of a certain ethnohistorian

who, terrified of her own frailty and need to be loved,

abandoned her femininity in a bizarre charade of scholarship and androgyny.

Jim, what are you doing here?

You know him, Dr. Hunt?

Sure she knows me, Bunny.

Dr. Hunt and I are old friends, aren't we, Margo?

Well--

We were in love once,

desperately and passionately in love.

But that was a long time ago, wasn't it, Margo?

Back when your mind wasn't filled

with bizarre feminist notions about the meaninglessness of love.

Back then you were the most giving,

passionate woman I had ever met in my life.

I turned my whole world upside down for you.

We shared our innermost thoughts and feelings.

We made plans, big plans, plans for life together,

and then you dumped me flat because I didn't turn out

to be the sort of man who fit in neatly

with the feminist tummy rot you were being force fed by your professors.

It was a one-night stand.

I was half drunk and left right after we had sex.

We didn't say eight words to each other,

and all yours were composed of one syllable.

Ha!

Just like you to count the words, Dr. Hunt.

What you never understood is there are some feelings

that can't be measured in words,

some moments that last an eternity.

You toyed with my affections,

and after you crushed my heart,

I curled up into a whiskey bottle,

and I haven't come out since.

You left for Hawaii the next day with a bimbo in the cafeteria.

Well, yeah.

But, uh, I had made that date a week before, and besides,

the second I got back from Hawaii I crawled

into a whiskey bottle and I haven't come out since.

Oh, let's go, Bunny.

Wait.

You said you needed a guide.

I'm the best.

Well, I've changed my mind. We'll do without one.

Fat chance.

You won't last ten minutes in that jungle without me.

I can take care of myself.

Not in the Avocado Jungle you can't.

You know what jungle herb cures the poisonous bite of the river snake?

You know where the only land route

is around the white waters of death?

You know the way through the secret maze caves

that lie underneath Hangman's Cliff?

Huh? Do you?

Well, no, I don't.

Do you?

Well, no, but I have this paperback.

- I'll buy my own book. - It's out of print.

You as a guide? How much?

Well, isn't that fine.

Just like you to treat me like gigolo

and offer me money after all we meant to each other.

- How much? - $25,000.

- Forget it. - 50 bucks?

Okay.

That's 50 plus expenses.

Now, Jim, I don't care what happened to us before.

That's all in the past.

I've hired you as a guide with the understanding

that our relationship will be strictly professional from here on in.

Whatever you say, honey buns.

Get out.

Okay. Okay. You're right.

I just slipped. Strictly professional.

That's the way you want it, that's the way it'll be.

I'll be good, really. Promise.

I guess sharing a sleeping bag is out then.

This is it, the Avocado Jungle.

It doesn't look like a jungle.

The outer regions aren't very overgrown,

but foliage gets thicker the deeper you go.

We're gonna have to leave the Jeep here and continue on foot.

Yeah. Well, you girls better hang back.

This could be dangerous.

I don't want to make any misstep.

Oh, geez.

Are you okay?

Yeah. Yeah. Just checking the tires.

Yeah, they're good.

I'll-- I'll look at the oil later.

You wrecked my nails.

Here it is, the Avocado Jungle.

Look around you, Bunny.

In front of us, the lush, untouched rainforest

of the last surviving matriarchy.

Behind us the polluted patriarchy of western civilization.

We're leaving a world dominated by men and entering one ruled by women.

Whoopty-doo. Keep bashing men.

In a couple days you'll be dying for a Burger King out here.

I doubt it.

You women, you're always bitching and moaning about

men and the way we run things, but let's face it,

who could have ever invented but a man the '64 GTO?

Or for that matter, the Corvette Stingray, any year, any model.

All you women have ever done is what,

some French chick invented kryptonite or something.

The important things like beer and meat, that was all men.

Yeah. It's hard to imagine a women inventing nuclear weapons.

Exactly. And where would be without them?

And the Nazi Blitzkrieg seemed like a male idea,

not to mention South African apartheid.

How about World War I, the Crusades,

the Spanish Inquisition, the rape of Shanghai.

So men have done a lot of things.

- Elvis Presley. - Janis Joplin.

- Patton. - Joan of Arc.

How about Tammy Bakker?

Jim Bakker, Jerry Falwell, Jimmy Swaggart.

Jessica Hahn, Fawn Hall, Donna Rice.

Joseph McCarthy, Richard Nixon.

Joan Rivers.

Joan Rivers?

I like Joan Rivers.

- I think she's funny. - Well, I think Nixon's funny.

( snake rattles )

Jim, what are you doing?

Hacking out a trail through the underbrush.

The trail is clear, you're just hacking at branches on the side.

Yeah. But I just bought the machete.

It seemed like a shame not to use it.

Anyway, it's good practice for when the jungle

really gets thick, you know.

Sometimes I swing two or three, then it's really light.

I think you look really handsome with a machete.

Well, thank you, Bunny.

Come on you two, we've got a lot of ground to cover before night.

Let's meet more boys.

No, no. Boy, girl, boy, girl.

No, me first.

That's the way you do it in the jungle.

Hey, want some?

Yeah.

What is that?

Pina colada.

Where is Bunny?

Bunny?

She was right--

- Bunny? - Bunny!

- Bunny! - Bunny!

Here, kitty, kitty.

Kitty, oh, so cute.

Kitty.

Wow, look, it's an old cougar going after a young leopard.

Nice kitty.

Are you lost?

Huh? Where's your home?

What do you like to eat?

Ooh, look at your eyes!

Bunny!

Oh, no.

Bunny!

Bye!

Bye.

( growling )

Bunny?

Bunny!

Oh, her curling iron.

And her Indiana Jones lunchbox.

Bunny!

Whoa, look at all this stuff!

Milk Duds, Good & Plenty, Nutty Buddies!

I had a feeling she was holding out on us.

Bunny!

I just found a big kitty.

Where have you been?

Don't you know it's dangerous in the jungle?

Don't you know it's dangerous to hold out on your friends.

- Gimme that. - Ow!

Do you have a band-aid?

You don't have any idea where we are.

Of course I know where we are.

I know exactly where we are.

Oh, good.

We're--

Let me see that.

Honey, honey, honey, please.

I know you think you know everything about everything,

but when it comes to reading maps,

I happen to be an expert.

All right.

Now our best chance of finding the piranha women

is to take the Rio Santa Rosa River.

It runs the length of the Avocado Jungle, and it is,

I believe, their primary source of fresh food.

Well, maybe we can build a raft and float downstream.

Yeah. Good, whatever.

All right. Now, according to my calculations,

with the north star overhead, and the moon rising easterly,

and allowing for a wind factor of five,

the river should be approximately 23.6 miles away.

It should take us about two days to get there.

23 miles?

But the jungle is so lush and green around here.

Are you sure it's not closer? I mean--

Sweetie, sweetie, sweetie, please.

If there's one thing I know, it's how to read a map.

Now, if you will excuse me, I gotta go

to the little boys room.

Make yourselves busy. God, women, you know?

Think they know about everything!

Ah!

( splashing )

I think he found the river.

Maybe that isn't the north star.

They're all dry now, but I want to get the wrinkles out.

Maybe you could put a neat military crease

across the front panels of the pants and shirt.

Oh, sure.

You sure are a good little homemaker, Bunny.

Thanks.

I've been taking home economics for two years now,

but I'm switching my major to feminist studies.

What would you want to do that for?

I want to expand my mind.

Why?

Gee, I don't know.

Maybe I could become the first woman president or something.

Hmm, wouldn't that be ironic?

I followed the river for about half a mile.

There's a wreckage of a small boat near the shore,

and it's salvageable.

We could use it travel downstream.

I wonder what it was doing this deep into the jungle.

The Patina.

You know it?

Yes. Yes, I know it.

It was a long, long time ago.

I was young, very young, and stupid, very stupid.

I made a mistake.

Arab pilgrims, nasty business.

I panicked, got drummed out of the Merchant Marine.

Spent the next three years of my life

crisscrossing the globe trying to live it down.

I'm sorry.

I-- I don't want to talk about it.

Whatever.

After that I crawled into a whiskey--

Oh, Jim, please, not the whiskey bottle again.

( harmonica playing )

Poor Jim, he doesn't have a tent.

Bunny, he'll be all right. It's a warm night.

Listen, isn't it beautiful?

( harmonica continues )

He is awfully good.

You're kind of tough on him.

Yeah.

He said he loved you.

I doubt that.

It never would have worked out.

He's an egotistical, chauvinistic klutz.

I think he's kinda cute.

Well, maybe I am a little hard on him.

Bunny, it's just that he--

he represents my failures.

Failures? You?

Sure. We all have them.

Can I tell you a secret I've never told anyone before?

Sure.

In a way, Jim is right.

I am afraid of men.

My relationships have been--

well, I've had a lot of one-night stands.

A little to drink, you know, give myself an excuse,

and I subconsciously fall for jerks that I know

I'll never be emotionally involved with.

It's all so empty, passionless, really.

I guess deep down I'm afraid that there can

never be any real respect or equality

between the sexes, not really.

I've avoided commitment because I'm afraid

I'll be emotionally dominated by my lover,

or equally as sad, that I'll dominate him.

I guess that seems kinda strange.

Can I tell you something too, Dr. Hunt?

Something I've never told anybody before.

Of course, Bunny.

I'm glad we get to share this.

Well, sometimes when I'm with a guy,

I wish they'd tie me up with red licorice ropes

and then spank me and he'd eat the ropes

and then he'd free me and then we'd make love while

the Philharmonic played "Bolero."

Thank you, Bunny.

You've really put my thoughts in perspective.

I feel better, too.

Anybody want licorice?

No, thanks.

How about you, Bun?

Come on, it's a foot long.

Start on the end, I'll meet you in the middle.

No, thanks.

Suit yourself.

( humming )

Let's see if this boat floats, huh?

What do you say?

And over here on the left, we have the tribal headhunter and trader.

She's got a special for us today, it's a two for one.

Two of his heads for one of yours.

Do we have any takers?

This is incredible.

He's memorized the entire speech of the jungle boat ride at Disneyland.

That'll be useful.

I can do the Tiki Room too.

You know everything.

Can you steer the boat?

Yeah. I know Adventureland like the back of my hand.

This jungle can't be much different

( rumble )

What was that?

Something under the boat. Something big.

Ah, it's probably just a rock.

Hardly.

( splashing )

A hippo, look!

A hippo, in California?

The Palm Springs Hippo.

It's a lighter version than it's African cousin

because of the low cholesterol diet, but it's just as deadly.

( growling )

It's charging at the boat!

- We're gonna die! - Man the helm!

Don't let him broadside us, Jim!

Hard to port, hard to port!

Port, is that left or right?

Left! Left!

( gunshot )

( splashing )

Is it dead?

I think so.

Boy, did its ear wiggle when it started to get close to us?

Yeah. Their ears wiggle when they're angry.

Yeah.

This is not the Disneyland jungle boat ride.

Get real, folks. We were almost killed.

Yeah, by an invisible hippo.

( animal trilling )

( quacking )

( rustling )

Shh.

There's something in the bushes.

I think I hear something.

- Oh, Lordy! - Get down.

They're attacking.

I'm coming!

Where does it hurt?

I can't tell. I think I'm in shock.

Am I bleeding?

No.

What was it that did me in?

Was it a rock? Spear?

Arrow?

It looks like a knitted potholder to me.

It looks like a dog.

A crocheted potholder.

Those piranha women are stupider than I thought.

What do they think they're gonna get

attacking us with doilies and potholders and placemats.

Women today are just not the way I thought they'd be.

Well, I don't think it's the piranha women.

Whoever it is, they're gone now.

Let's go investigate.

Wait. They could have flatware.

That'd be dangerous.

Why would somebody attack a boat with potholders?

Well, maybe it wasn't meant as an attack.

Maybe it was sent as an offering.

An offering? God, you don't mean--

- Yes. - Who?

Let's go back to the boat.

No. We can't go back.

We want to be the first outsiders ever to make contact.

They're disgusting.

- Who? - They're not disgusting.

You think that anyone who chooses to live

their life differently from you is disgusting.

Different lifestyles have different traditions, Jim.

Sniveling worms.

I don't have the stomach to look at 'em.

Who?

It's just a legend really, but in the Avocado Jungle,

there's a tribe of men who live apart from the piranha women.

And who cower in fear of them.

They have different cultures, Jim.

They're really very caring and nurturing.

They're a bunch of wienies.

They make potholders?

Well, they make bake goods, sew their own clothes,

and they leave out handicrafts for the piranha women,

and in return, they don't eat them.

It's kind of a symbiotic relationship.

Kind of an idiotic relationship is more like it.

What are they called?

The Donahues.

Come on out, don't be afraid.

We won't eat you. \We promise.

Don't be afraid. I'm an ethnographer.

God, what wimps.

It's a different culture, Jim.

I think they're sweet.

( muttering )

Thank you, that's beautiful.

Donahue. Alan Alda,

Mark Harmon, Walter Mondale.

Get off of me you puss-- get away. Ick.

I'm not getting on my knees.

Great suffering Christ, man, they're just a couple of chicks.

( tribal music plays )

Donahue?

Oh, thank you, no. I'm stuffed, really.

It was all delicious.

Alan Alda?

Thank you. No.

Oh, yes, thank you.

This tuna fish casserole is a dream.

And the stuffed bell peppers, they're so good.

Aren't they really good cooks?

Really good wimps is what they are.

Why does it bother you so much to see men cooking

and performing tasks generally relegated to women?

They seem happy enough.

You act as if your own masculinity were threatened

because another man performs a supposedly feminine task.

Can't you just be yourself and let them be who they are?

Sorry, pal.

Because no man can be truly happy acting

as a housemaid to a bunch of man eaters.

Cooking and sewing just aren't in the male hormones.

These poor desperate wretches don't know any better

because they don't have any role models like John Wayne or Stallone.

But if they did--

They'd be violent, emotionally repressed, and narrow minded.

Just like my heroes, strong and masculine and virile.

Hey Buddy, got any more of that kiwi tart left?

And can I get a chair?

Oh, my.

Beautiful.

Oh, you made it yourself?

It's wonderful, but really-- my apartment is so small,

I-- really, I couldn't.

Nice though. Very nice.

I have a lot of fantasies about being tied up and spanked.

I suppose it isn't very liberated, is it?

What kind of fantasies do feminists have?

Bunny, please go to sleep.

We have to get up early and look for the piranha women.

What kind of fantasies do Piranha women have?

Eating men, I suppose.

Charbroiled or baked?

Donahue.

Alan Alda.

Oh, great, I could use a drink.

What is-- hot chocolate?

Oh, Jesus H. Christ, men don't bring other men hot chocolate.

Guys, this is no way to live.

What's killing me is I know that deep inside

every last one of you beats the heart of a virile, macho, manly man.

I'll be goddamned if I sit idly by and watch you all

waste away your lives as a bunch of sniveling cowardly wimps.

Tonight I'm gonna teach you all how to be men,

and I know just how to do it.

Beer.

There, see what it is to be a man.

Ahh.

Take it. Do it.

Come on, I know you want it.

Be a man.

Do it! Beer!

Come on, you're the Chief. Show 'em what you got.

( shouts )

Come on, boys! What's the matter?

Beer!

Beer! Beer! Beer!

Beer! Beer!

( chanting "Beer" )

All right, boys. Keep drinking.

There's plenty more where that came from.

All right.

Now, we're gonna have a little pop quiz here on what we learned.

Pay attention. Eyes front.

Now, what's that?

Beer.

Yeah. All right.

Here we go.

What's that?

Penthouse!

Yes. Okay.

What's that?

Keys to Chevy.

Right on.

We're men.

All right. Now, let's take a little scenario here.

Let's say you're riding down in street in your Corvette.

You've got one hand on the wheel palming it,

you got one eye out looking for cops.

You spot out of the corner of your eye,

walking down the street in some sexy hot pants,

some buxom teen talent.

You know, a dame, a girl,

a broad, a wench, woman.

So what do you do?

No. No. Get back.

You don't run and hide. Get back there.

Jesus Christ.

What do you do?

No. No. You don't offer them knitted products!

Men don't knit!

You yell out to her.

You yell out, hey, sexy mama.

Hey, love machine, you wanna go for a ride in my Vette?

Here, let's try it. All right?

Okay?

Hey, sexy mama.

Hey, sexy mama.

Hey, love machine.

Hey, love machine.

That's it.

Do you want to go for a ride in my Vette?

You wanna go for a ride in my Vette?

Yeah! That was pretty good. All right.

Go ahead, boys. You earned another swig.

Ah, yeah.

Hey, fellows, take-- take five.

Excuse me. Hi.

I heard all the noise and I couldn't sleep,

so I thought maybe one of you could make me some hot chocolate.

- Chick. - Broad.

Sexy mama.

What?

Hey, hey, baby, you wanna go for ride in my Vette?

I don't know. Where's it parked?

Hey, love machine, let's do it dirty.

Love machine?

Well, what happened to tuna casseroles and needlepoint?

I mean, all I came out here was to ask for some hot chocolate.

Dr. Hunt! No!

Dr. Hunt!

( gunshot )

( yelling )

Let go of Bunny!

No!

What are you doing out here?

Look, I'm sorry, all right?

I'm sorry. I mean it.

I'm sorry.

It's just that we had a party and the boys got a little out of control.

Out of control?

They tried to gang rape Bunny.

And I didn't get any hot chocolate.

Gang rape her, huh?

Boy, I didn't know they had it in them.

Jerk.

God, I didn't mean it that way.

I meant-- Bunny, you know what I meant, right?

I guess so.

It's just that considering how faggy they were acting,

it was kind of delightful to see them finally

taking a healthy interest in the opposite sex.

God. A healthy interest to you means a violent one.

Oh, yeah.

Like your little piranha women don't resort to violence.

They only kill, slice up, and eat men.

Quite right, and I'm beginning to think

they've got the right idea.

Oh, fudge a duck.

The propeller's stuck again.

There's too much grass in this area.

Look, we're just gonna have to drag it downstream where there's deeper water.

Drag it?

Yeah, drag it.

You got us into this mess.

Oh, you mean, we have to get in the water?

I didn't even bring any trunks.

( grunts )

Ew, ew, ew!

What, what? Leeches?

No, catfish.

Catfish?

Catfish don't bite.

I know, but they swish all around my ankles and it feels icky.

Always hate catfish, even as a kid.

The feeling of catfish swishing around.

I mean, what if one crawled up my pants leg and--

Oh, shut up with the catfish.

If you want to get back in the boat, get back in the boat.

Margo, me thinks thou doth protest too much.

What's that supposed to mean?

You're as mad at me, or just yelling at me,

but I'm sure a big doctor like you knows

that underneath that means

you're just hiding your true feelings.

( laughs )

Which is?

That you really love me.

I don't love you. I don't even like you.

Then why is your voice quivering as you say that?

My voice is not quivering.

Yes, it is. It is.

You can always tell when a woman's in love

because her voice quivers when she speaks.

My voice is not quivering.

Why are you getting so emotional?

I'm not emotional.

It's quivering again.

I'm not emotional or quivering.

Margo, are you getting your period?

No. I'm not getting my period. It's not due for two weeks.

Why am I telling you this?

Because I care, damn it.

Jim, there's a leech on your neck.

Oh! Ew! Ew!

Leech!

Hey, are you guys having a water fight?

No. We're not having a water fight.

That's when I decided to start my own business.

Everybody said I was crazy, but taking orders from others,

that's just not the way the Jim-man is made.

Hey, Margo, have some of this, it's great.

It's Greek dip, it's guacamole.

Of course it's guacamole. I'm sick of guacamole.

I'm sick of avocadoes.

I want meat.

Oh! I told you you'd want a Burger King out here,

or maybe a nice juicy steak or a little meatloaf, or--

Quit looking at me like that.

Hey, you want to eat me, don't you?

I didn't say that.

You were thinking it.

I can see that look in your eye.

You-- you want o eat me.

Only for a minute.

Moderate feminist.

You women's libbers are all alike.

A couple of days out here in the jungle and you turn into savages.

You throw away that rhetoric about equality,

and you get down to what you really want,

the domination and consumption of men.

I'm sorry.

I'm hot, and I'm tired, and I lost my head for a moment.

Or maybe you found your true self.

Take a look at her, Bunny.

Take a good, hard look.

She wants to eat me.

See for yourself what the women's movement is really all about.

That's it.

You're dead meat!

No, no! No, no!

Help, Bunny! Help!

Hey honey, chill. Chill, really.

Come on.

I'll get you some nice Donahue meat.

I'm sure they'd be happy to be eaten by you.

Chauvinistic pig!

( shouting )

Don't eat him, Dr. Hunt!

Ah!

Oh, my God.

I'm losing my mind.

It's this jungle.

I-- I'm just losing my mind.

Well, with having your period and everything--

We've got to go back. We're going back.

We-- we've just gone too deep into the heart of the jungle.

We're going back.

A little too late for that, Margo.

I think they found us.

Cute outfits!

Maybe.

But they don't look too friendly to me.

Don't worry.

What'd you got, grenade, gun?

No. Something all feminist cultures will understand

no matter how radical or how primitive.

My NOW membership card.

( speaking foreign language )

What did she say?

I'm not sure.

It's a strange, difficult language.

Listen, I am looking for Dr. Kurtz.

Do you understand me?

Dr. Kurtz.

Kurtz?

Yes! Dr. Kurtz. Can you take me to her?

Get your stuff!

The secret temple of the piranha women.

Their architecture is surprisingly advanced.

It looks like a big Lego to me.

This must be the altar room where they--

Eat guys?

Yeah.

Hey, look.

A vegetable juice spa.

This is supposed to be great for the complexion.

Jim, don't!

What?

Bunny, hand me one of those Fritos.

( gurgling )

What is it?

Piranha, the real thing.

This must be where the piranha women dispose

of the fat and bones of their male sacrifices.

Very good, Dr. Hunt. That is quite correct.

Francine Kurtz, then you are alive.

And she's got one of those cute outfits on.

I have more than just the outfit, Bunny.

The piranha women have christened me empress of the Avocado Jungle.

I am their supreme ruler.

Empress?

I knew the Avocado Board would send someone after me,

but I never suspected it would be another feminist.

After I did away with the Army.

You mean to say you led those piranha women against the soldiers?

Of course.

They violated our jungle sanctuary.

They had to die.

They were pretty delicious, too.

Dr. Kurtz, I'm unfamiliar with the academic guidelines

at Radcliff, but I would think any major university

would consider warring on the United States

and eating prisoners of war a serious breach of ethics.

Always the cautious scholar, huh, Dr. Hunt?

I'm not here to study the piranha women.

I'm here to lead them.

The future of feminism lies in this temple.

Are you saying the future of women is in cannibalism?

Face up to the truth. This is a war.

A war between men and women.

Anything short of cannibalism is just beating around the bush.

Well, it obvious the Avocado Board sent

the wrong scholar to deal with the piranha women.

And you are so obviously the right one?

An academic so naive, so trusting,

she actually believes there's an avocado shortage.

Yes. That's what they told me too.

But I was suspicious enough to do a little research into the matter.

The fact of the matter is, the United States has a massive avocado glut.

They're dumping avocadoes by the ton

in the Santa Monica harbor just to get rid of them.

But if that's the case, then why send me?

You're an ethnohistorian, use your head.

It's not the avocadoes the government is worried about,

it's the piranha women.

The reactionary male factions are terrified of them.

Terrified of the example a nation of strong women

might set for the rest of the country.

After they succeeded in stomping the ERA,

in the wake of a mainstream feminist backlash,

they figured it was the perfect time to wipe out

the piranha women for good.

But the reservations in Malibu?

They're there all right.

I did some research into those too.

Deluxe condominiums, pool, sauna,

total luxury living.

Only what they didn't tell you about were the thousands

of subscriptions to Cosmopolitan that were timed for delivery

when the piranha women took up residence.

Not to mention the team of Mary Kay Cosmetics saleswomen

who were ready to pounce upon them.

They had a secret plan for doing away with the piranha women.

Something far more sinister than an armored division of infantry:

Cultural assimilation.

Yes.

Within five years the piranha women would have been just

a bunch of bikini bunnies bouncing

around Malibu searching for a good sushi bar.

I know a great sushi bar in Malibu.

You go down Sunset, turn right on PCH and--

You see?

They would have all ended up like her.

Now that you're here, you have only one choice.

To join with us, become a piranha woman.

I can't do that.

Although I'm discouraged, I can't give up hope

that there will be equality between the sexes.

I cannot allow you to leave the jungle

and reveal the secrets of the piranha women.

You either join us or you all die together.

Then kill us, because I'd rather die

than compromise my ethical standards.

Hey, hey, speak for yourself.

I'm sure we can round table this whole thing and come up--

( snaps )

You, idiot male, will die anyway.

You look a little tough, but I suppose if you

were marinated before cooking-- take him.

Marinade? Sweetie, that's carcinogenic.

You don't want to-- Bunny!

Jim!

Help me!

Take Dr. Hunt also.

( bones crunching )

You're outnumbered, Margo.

There are a thousand piranha women in this temple.

You haven't got a chance.

You let my friends go, or I'll shoot you first.

Go ahead.

Fire at a fellow feminist.

Fire on a fellow anthropologist.

You may not personally agree with my tactics,

but you know my only goal is to help the piranha women

maintain their cultural heritage.

Go ahead and shoot.

Shoot her! Do it!

Give the woman what she wants!

It will take some times to make the preparations

for your initiation into the tribe of piranha women.

I will give you until tomorrow morning to make your decision.

If you agree to join us, you will sacrifice your first man.

If you do not agree, you will thrown into

the piranha pit and you will die, painfully.

Take her.

Take the airhead, too.

Jim!

Bunny, don't worry! You'll save me!

Hi. Hey, hi.

I hope you know that crack about shooting you

was just a joke because that's me,

always with the non-stop-- the whole trip I'm--

have they told you how great you look in that dress

because that-- see, it's feminine and feminist

which-- which is my cause, really, feminism.

I thought Geraldine Ferarro,

for example, creamed Bush in that debate.

You're gonna cook up real good.

Put him with the rest of the men.

Tomorrow we eat him.

You know, I've got a subscription to Ms.

These guys must be bigger wimps than the Donahues.

All right. I'm going. I'm going. Whoa.

Can I interject one thing?

Now, I'm not saying this just to save my hide,

but talking strictly nutritional requirements,

if you guys are eating only men,

you cannot possibly be getting everything you need

from the four basic food groups.

Gee, you guys are pretty big for wimps.

Of course, the jokes on you when those broads

come back and start picking out ingredients for chicken McMacho.

Anybody got a smoke?

I brought you some food.

Who are you?

I'm Jean Pierre, your sacrifice for tomorrow.

It is traditional in the tribe of the piranha women

for the sacrificee to serve his mistress the night before the ceremony.

But you speak English?

Some.

I learned it from listening Dr. Kurtz.

Well, you must be very smart to have picked it up

so quickly without any formal training.

Alas, intelligence in males is not valued

by the piranha women, only muscle tissue.

Well, you certainly have plenty of that.

They force us to work out with weights.

It makes the meat more flavorful.

Please, eat.

Oh, thank you. I am hungry.

Very good.

I'm glad.

He was a friend of mine, Jacque.

Gosh, this stuff is really good.

Chewy, but tasty, kind of lean pork.

What is it?

Jacque.

Is that one of those beef substitutes?

Huh?

Whatever it is, is sure is good.

You work out on a Nautilus?

Got any more dip?

( speaking foreign language )

I'd like to speak to Jean Pierre.

Where is Jean Pierre?

Oh, he's a friend of yours, huh?

Well, don't worry, I won't kill him.

God knows I won't eat him.

There's your sacrifice.

If you wish to become a piranha women,

you must first take his body, and then his life.

What is your decision?

I refuse to kill another human being in cold blood.

However, in deference to your cultural traditions,

I would be willing to have sex with him.

Forget it.

If you want your cake you'll have to eat it.

If you do not use this dagger to draw his blood,

I will have you thrown into the piranha pit.

I won't join your tribe, and I appeal to you as a member

of the National Academy of Sciences to release me

and my friends and allow us to go on our way.

No! I want to be a piranha woman.

Bunny, what are you saying?

I want to be a piranha woman.

Bunny, damn it, I knew I shouldn't have brought you.

You haven't had enough women's studies group lessons.

You're being seduced by the simplicity of

the piranha women's philosophy.

No, I haven't.

I just want one of those cute outfits.

Bunny, listen to me--

Silence her.

Are you sure you want to become a piranha woman?

Yes.

Are you will to partake in the blood sacrifice initiation?

Well, if you mean have sex with a guy

and then kill him, sure. I'll try it.

I've done weirder things at frat parties.

Then I will allow you to become a piranha woman

on one condition.

He shall be your sacrifice.

Well, now you've gone too far, Dr. Kurtz.

I happen to be a pretty good judge of human nature,

and as far as our Bunny goes, well,

the poor kid happens to nuts about me.

She would never--

Sure, I'll kill him.

Prepare them both for sacrifice.

Toodles.

- What? What? - Just do it.

( shouts )

The sacrifice has escaped.

Kill him!

This way!

Stop them! Kill them!

Over the ledge. Jump!

I can fight them off from here.

Oh, no, you're coming with me.

No. It's more important that you escape.

Jean Pierre, will you stop being a sacrifice!

Now, come with me.

Oh!

Jean Pierre!

Jean Pierre!

..Jean Pierre.

Damn it. The first decent guy--

So this is why piranha women have red hair, huh?

Huh?

Gee, I hope this dye doesn't make my hair frizz.

Do you have any conditioner for that?

You know, actually I was thinking maybe we can go

a little shorter this time in the cut if that's okay with you.

Or maybe if we keep it red I should just keep it long

because then I'll look like Tiffany,

and actually I was thinking about taking up singing, so--

Hey, have I told you girls how terrific you look?

Great loins.

What are you doing?

Wait, whoa, whoa, whoa. Can I-- can I say one thing?

One thing.

I would rather have you kill me than make me a gelding.

We had a dog once and we fixed him and he was just never happy.

Hey, can't we be reasonable about this?

I mean, we're all people here, piranhas, non-piranhas.

Hey, what's this, a little hot tub action, huh?

Maybe I misjudged you girls?

I think I might actually like this place.

Oh, yeah. That's nice.

Hey, you know, you're not such bad young ladies after all.

Probably just had rough childhoods, right?

Smoked a lot of pot in high school,

parents were divorced, that kind of thing?

Yeah. Oh, yeah.

Oh, that's good.

A little lower. A little lower.

That's the spot. Now make circles.

Just kidding.

Boy, it's nice to see that at least a couple of you

girls know how to treat a man around this crazy temple.

You know, a lot of you piranha gals,

you probably just never met the right guy,

and I bet you you're terrific cooks.

Something around here smells fabulous.

I think it's this bath water.

This-- this would make a hearty soup base, wouldn't it?

Hey, what's up, doc?

Aren't those--

Hey, what--

Oh, my God, you're marinating me.

Hey! Let me out!

We are the barracuda women.

We are the sworn enemies of the piranha women.

If you were escaping from them, you must be our friend.

Thousands of years ago, the piranha women

and barracuda women were as one,

but we split over ideological differences.

What were they?

The piranha women believe the men should be slaughtered

and eaten with guacamole dip.

And you think that's wrong?

Yes!

We believe they should be eaten with clam dip.

That's it? Clam dip?

It's a fundamental principle.

You people have been divided for thousands

of years because of a kind of dip?

Oh, that really makes me mad.

Why is it women always argue over such petty differences?

It's no wonder we couldn't get the ERA passed.

Man can always seem to agree on football and beer.

Oh, that's it.

We are going back to the piranha women's temple.

The women of this jungle must unite,

and I'm going to settle a score with a certain renegade ethnographer.

I think I'm gonna like being a piranha woman.

What you do is you set up a joint committee consisting

of equal numbers of piranha women and barracuda women.

You meet bi-weekly, air any differences

that might arise, and it's really that simple.

( muttering )

( grunts )

Onward women!

( speaking foreign language )

Come on, move it!

Dr. Kurtz's field notes.

It's the outline for a book.

Okay. Let's see, so she's gonna make love tome.

That's-- that's good.

Then she's gonna kill me and eat me.

That's bad.

Why can't I ever have a completely good day?

Here Bunny.

Drink of the elixir of the piranha women.

Let the sacrifice begin.

Bunny, please, put away that knife.

You don't know what you're doing.

This whole crazy jungle's got you all mixed up.

I know what I'm doing.

I'm gonna become a piranha woman.

Oh, my God, your eyes.

The strange elixir of the piranha women

has changed the color of your eyes.

No, it hasn't. I'm wearing contacts, stupid.

Now, shut up while I sacrifice you.

Sorry I have to kill you.

I really did think you were kind of cute.

Bunny, please don't.

I have to.

What did Margo say?

Oh, yeah, the song.

( humming )

That song...

Bolero.

Kill him.

Now!

Kill him!

I can't!

Do it!

I can't.

I love him.

Throw them both in the piranha pit.

You know, that water's really gonna stain this outfit.

Wait!

What now?

According to the traditions of the piranha women,

I challenge the empress of the Avocado Jungle

to a battle for the right to the throne.

That is your right, but I warn you, Margo,

you haven't got a chance.

We'll see.

( grunting )

You handle yourself fairly well.

I studied ancient weaponry at Berkeley.

Professor Harris?

No. Professor Johnson.

Really?

I met Johnson at Stanford.

Enough preliminaries.

Why don't you tell the piranha women

the real reason you became their leader?

What are you talking about?

I found your study.

I read your notes.

The outline for your book.

You don't care about the piranha women,

you just want to write a book about your experiences.

That's not true.

My life as a piranha woman by Francine Kurtz.

Catchy.

Should make the best seller list.

The media hype from your last book was fading.

You needed something new to get back on

the talk show circuit, isn't that right?

Well, what better than an expose on the piranha women's lives.

Think Margo will win?

Yeah.

Do you have any more of those red licorice ropes?

Sure. In my backpack, why?

We'll discuss it later.

You were going to exploit their culture and traditions

for a cheap paperback pot boiler,

a kiss, sacrifice and tell book.

All right. Anybody want any action on Margo?

The point spread is three against Dr. Kurtz.

Huh? Anybody in on this?

- Shh. - Chicks.

It's true.

I was planning a book, but it was going to be a scholarly work.

Hardly, Kurtz.

You spent too much time in the jungle

You've become a primitive yourself.

I've read your notes.

Your field methodology is sloppy.

The conclusion is shaky.

Even-- couldn't get away with

the generalizations you make in your outline.

You're no better than the chauvinists

who sent us here.

You'd exploit the piranha women for your own aggrandizement.

You don't understand. I had--

Francine, the pool watch--

Stay back.

You don't understand. I had to do it.

I'd been on the talk show circuit for six months.

The token feminist.

The butt of every bra-burning joke.

You don't know what it's like trying to face

David Letterman with a book on male insensitivity.

I needed something more.

I thought piranha women, cannibalism.

Who could laugh at me then?

- Oh, Francine. - Stay back!

You're right, I was exploiting the piranha women.

You don't know what it was like.

David Letterman.

God, the horror--

horror of that show.

The horror.

Francine!

You're very wise, Dr. Hunt.

Now, all the women of the jungle shall be united.

Well, now that you are united, you may want to reconsider

your relationships with then men in your tribe.

There are other ways of relating to them besides as food stuffs.

We shall consider what you have said and discuss it

at our bi-weekly committee meetings.

Farewell.

May you make it safely home.

Bye bye.

Yeah. Keep in touch.

Okay. There you go.

Where's my gun?

Oh, the gun.

Hey, let me carry the gun,

just to the edge of the jungle.

Come on. I mean, you drove and everything.

Let me carry the gun.

You know, all the piranha chicks are watching.

I should carry the gun.

Thanks.

Hey, it's not loaded, is it?

( gunshot )

After the medical checkup with the valium prescriptions,

there will be tea with Nancy Reagan.

Day two we will start out with a seminar

by Fawn Hall on office relations.

Then-- then comes the political orientation.

Yeah.

And we've got Phyllis Schlafly on standby.

Hopefully it won't be long before Miss Hunt rounds these girls up.

Gordon, I gotta hand it to you.

Using the feminists to dupe a bunch of feminists.

Well, women aren't that smart.

Women!

Hey, how's your wife?

It's over.

Oh.

Dr. Hunt.

How long have you been standing there?

You didn't hear--

Anything I didn't already know.

Francine told me all about your dirty little plan.

Kurtz?

Then you found her?

David Letterman keeps calling,

but we don't know what to tell him.

I'm afraid Dr. Kurtz won't be doing anymore talk shows.

She's dead.

Dead. How?

She died trying to protect the cultural heritage

of a primitive society.

Not so fast, Professor.

We're not finished with you yet.

Your-- your university--

Nothing is going to happen to my university except

that the Defense Department will provide a generous grant

to feminist studies for research

on expanding women's opportunities in the military.

You are mad.

Otherwise, I go on the David Letterman show myself

and tell him about the marines and

the millions of dollars of equipment lost in the Avocado Jungle.

Not to mention the diversion of funds to pay

for Malibu condos and subscriptions to Cosmopolitan.

I can just imagine the sarcastic look

on David's face when he--

You wouldn't.

Don't tempt me.

Women.

( knocking )

Dr. Hunt, I've got to talk to you.

Bunny, what's going on?

I'm getting married to Jim in ten minutes,

but I don't know, do you think I'm doing the right thing?

Well--

I mean, what could be better?

Getting married, being a housewife,

having a bunch of kids, watching Jim get old and fat, or--

or finish school and become the first women president?

Well, Bunny, that's a strictly personal decision.

Well, I'd rather just be a housewife,

but I just don't want to disappoint you

after all you've taught me about--

Bunny. Bunny.

You don't have to live your life to please me!

The important thing is that you're happy.

And as for what I've taught you,

well, listen, I've always believed

that every woman should get as much education

and intellectual stimulation as possible,

and that she should develop her mental abilities

to their utmost potential.

But in your case, well, there's just no point.

Really?

Then I should marry him.

If that's what you want, yes.

I take it we have your blessing.

Don't push it.

Thank you.

Then I will marry, Jim.

But I just feel so sorry for you.

I'm gonna be leaving you here all alone,

and you're gonna be losing one of your best students.

- Who? - Me.

Oh, well, don't worry, Bunny.

There'll be other students.

Well, this is it, Ms. Hunt.

Bye.

I'll call you, collect.

Jim!

Bye! Thanks for everything!

Bye.

Oh, Jean Pierre, good to see you.

Did you get all the classes you wanted?

Yes. I got all the courses you told me to take.

Introduction to feminism,

understanding human relationships,

the sensitive male.

I want to thank you so much for helping me, Dr. Hunt.

Oh, my pleasure.

Call me Margo.

So two tribes of cannibal women go to war over a recipe?

Ladies?

That's why they have bake-offs. Hello.

All that about eating made me hungry though,

but I really don't feel like slaving over a hot slave.

So maybe I'll have the liver of

the delivery guy with some fava beans.

Hmm, let me just take a look at the menu.

Get it?

Then forget it.

Let's see.

Oh, let's see, I could have some Mandarin Chinese.

I just love Sum Yung Guy.

Or maybe Thai-- hmm, I hear Thai guys taste

like chicken, but that's what they say about frog men.

Hmm, I haven't had any good Italian in awhile.

Maybe I'll have some spaghetti and meatballs

and have them hold the balls.

Gluten free man-occotti stuffed with ro-man-o cheese.

Oh, free range park ranger.

Hot dog in a bun?

Except you never whose wiener you're gonna get, or whose buns.

Okay.

Just remember, if you're going to stuff yourself with sausage,

make sure you have a condom-ent.

Oh, homemade vanilla ice cream.

Glad he makes it at home.

He could get arrested for that in public.

Hall & Oates, I had that for breakfast.

Oh, sound man, that sounds pretty good.

Marinated muscle man.

I'm just into beef with steroids.

Poach sal-man with man-go chutney.

Oh-- ooh, creamy seaman chowder.

Ew.

Fresh caught fisherman.

I don't really care for freshman.

I prefer juniors and seniors.

Cured ham.

Except how do you know they're really cured?

Ah, I don't know.

I can't decide what I want to throw up later.

Most of this stuff tastes like man-ure.

Oh, well, I think I'll just pick up some guy on the way home.

So until I see you next time,

remember, you are what you eat,

so be careful who you eat,

because you might wake up with unpleasant dreams.

( belches )

Excuse me.