Original subtitles

Kellogg's, the best to you each morning from Kellogg's.

Brought to you by Kellogg's your best choice in cereals the best to you each

morning

In days of old, when a challenge was met with flashing swords... You have a rusty

sword. You dare insult my sword?

On guard!

What do you know?

It is rusty.

And the worth of a man was measured by his allegiance to the king.

A momentous event was taking place in a small village.

A proud father was sending his only son.

to seek his fortune with the king's musketeers.

Augie, my son, my son, this is a momentous event, so listen carefully.

Your dutiful son is listening, dear old former musketeer dad.

Augie, my boy, I entrust this long cherry sword to your care.

Gee, thanks, father of all dads.

And treat it well, and don't let it get rusty.

On account I still got three more payments to make on it.

I'll keep it flashy like new, dear old time payment, Dad.

Then go, Augie, my boy.

And don't forget to send me a billy-doo.

That's French for don't forget to write.

If I run into the three musketeers, Dad, I'll mention your name.

Count me, Augie. There used to be four musketeers. So long, fourth musketeer.

Farewell, my son, my son.

I didn't want to disappoint Augie, but the truth is I wouldn't know the three

musketeers from the three blind mice.

And so, like a young bird trying his wings, Augie sets forth on his big

adventure.

Meanwhile, not too far away, the three musketeers were engaged in an important

mission. Now, what will we do for laughs today, fellows?

Let's try a musketeer yell.

Good idea.

Hip, hop.

All for one.

And one for all.

And all that jazz.

Oh, I'm brave and bold and I know no fear. Cause I'm soon to be a musketeer.

No!

Am I lucky?

What happened, Pathos?

Search me for hole?

Do you know aromatic?

Me thinks that mere snip of a youth can tell us.

Gee, Thors, I'm sorry, but you'll forgive me when you find out I'm the son

of Doggy Daddy, who used to be the fourth musketeer.

The fourth musketeer? Me thinks your daddy is a teller of fibs, Sonny.

Nobody can call my daddy a fibber. En garde!

Go! Ha!

Enough of this child's play.

To you, sonny.

Giddy-up.

And give our regards to the fourth musketeer.

I wonder how Augie is doing at musketeer school.

Augie, did you get your musketeer's diploma already?

Let's drop the subject, Dad.

Woyoki, my son, what's wrong?

Here's your sword back, Fibber Father of the Year.

Fibber Father?

Oh, you mean about me being a foot musketeer? Well, are you?

Woyoki, my boy, I was even better than the other three put together.

Oh, I'm so glad. They said you were a phony baloney.

Who? The three musketeers? Yeah.

Let's go tell them the truth.

And I thought they retired those three jokers years ago.

Are we gonna tell them, Dad?

Or do you want me to grow up with a complex?

Let's go, Hockey.

After all, no father wants his son to grow up with a complexion.

Whatever that is.

They're inside, Dad. Go make it a foursome.

Well, here goes nothing.

Ha-ha!

Pathos! Porto Aromatic, my old buddies.

How are you, fellas?

My dears.

Gee, Dad, are you hurt?

No, Orky. Those roughneck buddies of mine sure were glad to see me.

Can I go back in with you, Dad?

No, no, Orky. You wait here.

Show him a few of those fancy sword tricks, Dad.

Draw your swords, old friends.

And I'll show you a few fancy sword tricks.

I hope dear old dad doesn't hurt his buddies.

Now explain yourself, clown.

Please, fellas. My boy here thinks his dear old dad is the fourth musketeer.

It's the fever.

Hockey will have a complexion if he finds out the truth.

Fear not, dear old dad. We will keep your secret.

Now, this is what we will do.

Take that!

And that!

And that!

Oh, Loggie!

Coming, Father!

How are we, Dad?

Who's still the best swordsman of them all?

That you are, Doggie Daddy.

Fourth musketeer buddy of ours?

Show him how you saved the king, Dad.

Oh, I'd rather not.

Please do, Daddy.

This we got to see.

Well, the king was trapped in a tower.

I fought my way to the top.

Even though I was outnumbered 100 to 1.

Then I swung out to the chandelier, which was a mere 60 feet away, like a

sleep. Yikes! I missed!

Help, Pocky, help! How do you stop this thing?

There's your wall!

How about joining us again, Fort Musketeer? Yes, and show us some of

those tricks.

Sorry, fellas, but I gotta go.

I have an important engagement with a king's doctor.

Let's go, Augie. Right, Pooped Pop.

So long, fellas.

So long, old buddies.

All for one and one for all.

And all that jazz.

Traveling to California in the early days of the West was a long and

dangerous journey.

Nevertheless, with banjos on their knees, the brave settlers struggled

onward, their safe passage entrusted to one man, the wagon master.

Whoa, brave banjo players, we'll camp here.

Say, wagon master, my knee can't take any more of this banjo. Can I play a

violin instead?

What? And get bow-legged?

Bow-legged, get it? That's kind of like a joke.

The greatest danger the settlers faced was the dreaded Indian attack.

It's a dreaded Indian attack.

Indians? What'll we do, wagon master?

I don't care.

I'm quitting.

You're not turning chicken, are you?

Yeah. I just got my tail feathers.

And so, without a wagon master to lead them, the settlers didn't dare move

until one day... two figures approached the

stranded wagon train.

Say, Quickstraw.

How much farther is it to California?

About 2,000 miles, dead feet reckoning, Bubba Boy.

What do you mean, dead feet reckoning?

I mean, I reckon I'll be dead on my feet by the time we get there.

Look, Quickstraw, maybe we don't have to walk.

That sign says, Wagon Master Wanted. But what do we want with a wagon master?

Not us, Quickstraw.

That wagon train needs somebody to take them to California.

Oh, that's different.

I'd be glad to oblige.

And so the famous lawman, Quickdraw McGraw, now turned wagon master, leads

his wagons westward.

Follow me, folks.

But Quickdraw...

How do you know we're heading west?

Oh, that's simple, Baba Boy.

When we hit the Atlantic Ocean, it's in the opposite direction.

Hmm. That figures.

I think.

One of the meanest scavengers constantly preying on the wagon trains was the sly

desert coyote.

Oh, joy of good news.

A wagon train passing under my sly nose.

Together with a moo cow.

I will get the moo cow. I should have milk.

Then I will have rosy cheeks and strong bones and be healthy.

Hey, Quickstraw, look.

Somebody is rustling our cow.

Not one chuckle, Baba, or I'll never speak to you again.

It's no use, Quicksdrawer. I don't think I can stand it.

Your clavicle looks so funny.

He always sees the joke if it's on the other foot.

Snoop to Hazel. Snoop to Hazel. Come in, Hazel. Are you receiving okay?

If you mean my salary, you're two months in arrears, Scoop. I'll make a note of

it. And Hazel, have you bereft your vocabulary?

The name is Snoop, not Scoop. I know, Chief, but it'll be Scoop if you take

the job.

Stop speaking in griddles, Hazel.

What job?

The editor of the Daily Beagle called. He wants to see you immediately.

Right.

By the way, uh, Hayes, how's your parakeet doing?

Oh, he was in an accident.

Gosh, Hazel, what transpired?

Yeah, give us the glory details.

Well, this morning, he was lying at the bottom of his cage, flat on his back.

And before he passed out, he looked up at me and said, who moved the ladder?

Send a little fella a basket of assorted seeds, and, uh, don't spare the expense.

Sometimes a private eye...

has to drop the tough mask and think of those less fortunate.

Leave us descend on the impatient editor, Blab, and find out what's news.

Just there, JR. I got just the man for the job.

I'm expecting him any minute now.

Come in.

Hold the front page and stop the pressing. Here I am.

He's there, Chief. I'll call you back later.

So long.

Snoop, I need you.

Because my publisher believes in something that I think is a myth.

And you want me to find out who's right, right?

Right. You see, he believes that the Abominable Snowman actually exists. And

he wants pictures to prove it. If you can get the pictures, it'll be worth $5

,000. Start counting the money. And tell me where this Abominable Snowman lives.

I tell you he doesn't exist.

But my publisher says he lives in the Himalayan Mountains.

pages, Snoop.

Let's go, you booby, Blab. He probably has an unlisted number.

God, Snoop, do you think this copter can make it to the him-a, him-a, uh, to

those mountains?

It better, or we won't have no cartoon.

Here we are, Blab, in the natural habituate of the abominable snowman.

I don't see him anywhere, Snoop.

Gracious to zounds, Blab. You're standing in his footprint.

Gee, he's a big one.

Come on, Blab. We'll follow his footprints in Viola. He's on page one.

I hope he's photogenic.

Get your camera ready.

He must be lurching around here somewhere.

What'd you say, Blab?

Wow, Snoop. What a picture this'll make.

I know I'm photogenic, Blab, but Leva saved the film for the Abominable

Snowman.

Oh, Blab.

All of a sudden, I have a sinking sensation.

That's great, Snoop. Hold it.

I'm either getting shorter or you're getting taller, Blab. Neither, Snoop.

You're being pushed into the snow by the abominable snowman.

Now he tells me.

I can't see you, Snoop. Wait till I fix the focus.

You're good now, Snoop.

But will you please step aside?

You're in the way.

May their old mother warn me about thinking up with lackluster brains.

There he is, Blab. Gee, he looks friendly to me, Snoop. Maybe he's camera

shy.

Well,

you swing over, take a picture of your shy friend, and swing right back. Get

it? Gotcha, Snoop.

This light ain't too good.

I better use a flash bulb.

How'd you make out?

Great, Snoop.

I got a swell picture of his tonsils.

Jumpin' Josephine. What good is a picture of his tonsils?

Well, it might help some deserving medical student pass his exams.

Never mind.

I got another idea.

I'll snag him with his lasso and rendition him powerless whilst you snap

his picture.

Maybe I just ought to ask him.

Quiet, Blab. Get your camera ready.

Tell me yes.

Get ready, Blab.

I think I got him.

See?

He ruined my picture.

Not to mention me helicopter.

Stop in a long arm of the law and me 5,000 bucks fee.

I just want to take your picture, Mr. Gloogle.

It'll be in all the newspapers.

He wants you to take the picture inside, Blab.

I'm scared to go in there, Snoop. You want to earn your private eye diploma,

don't you?

Snoop, more than anything.

Well, here's your more than anything chance. Now get going.

Right, Snoop.

Wow! What a shot this'll make.

Watch the birdie, please.

That's it. Now everybody smile.

I got the picture, Snoop. We can leave now.

Great work, Blab. But I just remembered that our helicopter is busted.

I'll ask my friend Mr. Klugel to help us.

So long, Abdominal.

I'll see you in the funny papers.

And if you're ever in town, look us up.

Aloha, Abdominal.

And adios.

Your publisher was right, Mr. Editor.

That picture is incredible proof that the Abdominal Snowman actually exists.

If this picture isn't a fake, I... I'll eat your head.

I still say there is no Abdominal Snowman.

Mr.

Glo-go.

Gosh, it's good to see you.

How's Mrs. Glo-go and all the little Glo-gos?

Uh,

when you finish, I'll take me $5,000 fee.

I hope Mr. Editor has a six and seven-eighth stomach.

Yippee-yi-yo-ki-yay, galloping all the way, there goes Quick Draw McGraw!

Kellogg's, your best choice in cereals, the best to you, each morning has

brought you Quick Draw McGraw!

Yippee-yi-yo-ki-yay, galloping all the way, brain base are on your chest!