All language subtitles for Watch 13 Nights of Elvira (2014) Full HD

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.