Original subtitles

(duck quacks)

(dog barking)

(tires screeching)

(dog whimpering)

Yeah, right! I'm giving up an afternoon

of prime, grade "A," flat-on-my-face

self-induced veg-out time

just to come out to Wonder Bread Heights

and make chitchat with total strangers

who probably think they're better than me

just because they make more money,

hold down steady jobs put away savings

for their kids' futures and aren't wanted by Interpol.

How can people live like that?

Shut up and drive, you urban cow patty!

We're doing this for Ajax

and until we get the results back

from those blood tests I commissioned,

you're still his father.

This is important to him.

You're about to meet his new girlfriend's parents

and we're going to do all we can

to make the best impression possible.

Ha-rumph.

So, uh, Ajax, if I'm going to meet

this new love of your life

I might as well know her name.

"Tommy."

(tires screeching)

Well, nice knowing you, son.

Not like I don't love you, but you know how people are.

They'll assume that sort of thing runs in the family

and, frankly, I got a tough enough time picking up chicks

to begin with, so good luck, be careful,

and maybe we'll see you on TV sometime

lip-synching "Over the Rainbow" at one of those pride parades.

Ajax, spell "Tommy" for your father.

T-A-

M-M-Y.

"Tommy."

Well, what do you know?

Here we are right at your little friend's house.

(doorbell chiming)

Who on earth would have such an ominous sounding bell?

DUCKMAN: King Chicken?!

Duckman.

You're on my turf, walking decoy.

Fricassee your fryer, tenderize your tips.

When I'm through with you...

AJAX: Excuse me.

Could you please tell me where Tammy is?

Upstairs, second door on the left.

Wait on her bed.

She's just getting out of the shower.

Oh, talk tough now.

You couldn't have planned this better.

(Bernice whistling)

(giggling): Hi, Kingy.

(laughing): Bernice.

I can't believe your nephew

is Tammy's new boyfriend.

You can't believe? I'm getting nostalgic

for a few minutes ago when he was gay.

Look, both of you,

can't you set aside your death blood feud

for one afternoon

just for the sake of the kids?

TAMMY: Oh!

(Ajax groans)

Well, one afternoon. I guess so.

But the second we leave, I'm peeing on their lawn.

Wait a second.

Ajax said we were meeting Tammy's parents

with an "S."

You mean to tell me all these years

after those many times we were together

after I threw my back out for you

you've been married?!

Bok-Bok-B-Bernice, please.

It's not what you think.

You see, my wife is...

(softly): dead.

Dead?

(sobbing): It was...

before we met.

I c-c... I can't tell you the pain I've been through

trying to be an evil genius

and mother and father to my little girl

especially as I remember holding my beloved bride in my arms

while she took her last breath

and said her final unforgettable words to me.

WOMAN: Kingy Pie, is that our guests?

It's a miracle.

She lives.

Why, you must be Ajax's family.

I'm King's wifey through the week,

golf widow on the weekend.

Call me Honey.

And you are?

I'm, uh, Duckman

and this is my not-wifey, Bernice.

Tell me, Honey,

would a bun in your oven be honey baked?

(Duckman and Honey laughing)

(grunts)

Whoops. Have to watch out

for those involuntary muscle spasms.

I know I will.

(laughs)

George Herbert Walker Chicken,

where are your manners?

Invite our guests in for a drink.

Honey,

this man is my arch nemesis.

I'll tolerate his presence for Tammy's sake

but I will not have a drink with him.

Oh, pshaw!

I don't even know what an arch nemesis is,

but do come in.

King's always throwing around

those two-dollar phrases.

It's "chief adversary" this, "world domination" that,

but little ol' me can't make heads or tails of it.

I just leave all that man stuff to the man.

Pardon.

"Tommy" and I need some canola oil, rope and a zucchini.

HONEY: Try the kitchen, sweetie.

Kids.

They're always up to something.

I don't know what everyone wants

but after one of my sloe gin fizz specials

you won't either.

(laughing)

(all gulping)

Well, aren't we three thirsty guffies.

Kingy, why don't you put on some tunes?

You paid a wing and a thigh

for that home entertainment system.

You know, it's so revealing

to see the things a man acquires for his home,

the things that make him happy.

Not everything a man acquires makes him happy,

especially if he didn't comparison shop beforehand.

I know the perfect store that has everything

in just the right size and color.

Too bad it's no longer open.

I think said store has forgotten

what an inconceivably long shopping list

a certain customer has.

No. In fact, I think a certain customer

should see a specialist about a credit extension!

Well, I think...

Who gives a damn what you think?! Who gives a damn what you think?!

HONEY: Dinner.

I think this is going to be a special evening.

(hiccups)

(chewing loudly)

What? I'm chewing.

Sometime tonight, try swallowing.

And choking on it.

I can insult him myself, thank you.

Yeah. * Nee-ner, nee-ner, nee-ner. *

Shut up!

I hope my casserole isn't too dry.

I swear, with the range and the Crock-Pot, microwave

and the FryBaby, you need to be some kind of rocket scientist

to work out all those little buttons.

And you're no rocket scientist.

No, sir, I am not.

No, sir.

No, sir-ee, bob-bob-bob!

No!

Out of yams. Need more.

I'll help.

There's more in the thingamajigger.

(grunting in kitchen)

So, Kingy says you're a dick.

Huh? What? What?

A private detective.

Isn't that what they're called?

Oh, right. Yeah. Yes, I am.

BERNICE: Yes! Kingy, yes, yes, yes!

Do you like it?

Like it?

It sounds so... lonely.

Detective work.

(yelling)

KING: You're on my ankle.

Okay. There.

Oh, yes!

Right there!

Uh... no. I work with someone.

He's a pig.

My partner is a pig.

How nice.

I understand they're very smart.

(yelling)

Adorable breakfront

with the complete commemorative

famous-sports-heroes- turned-killers plate collection.

I got those to cheer up Kingy on his big 3-0.

You know, you, uh, you have a very lovely home.

What?

Your home-- it's very lovely!

Thank you. I try my best.

(screaming)

(panting)

KING CHICKEN: Wrong leg.

Sounds like you two looked high and low for those yams.

Yams?

You know, the yams you went in there for.

Hmm? Where are they?

You got all you need.

Apparently, that makes threeof us.

Are you suggesting...

How dare you insult me in front of my wife,

who's still dangerously close to coherent.

How dare you come into my house and suggest that I...

Dip your McNuggets

in something other than Honey?

(screaming)

My morals are beyond reproach.

And I'll brutally kill anyone who says they're not.

We aren't children anymore.

I don't have to put up with your abuse and your cruelty

and your taunting,

your turning me into the most unpopular kid in school.

I should charge for these sessions.

Look what you've done to me!

The Kramers next door

own a family dry-cleaning business.

Jim Rosenthal across the street is a C.P.A.

Winnie's in real estate.

By the way, lovely people

and their front lawn's to die for.

But me! I sit in a basement all day

thinking of ways to take over the world.

Think we're car-pooling to the P.T.A.?

I just wanted to belong.

To be one of the guys.

But I'd always end up running home

laughed at, humiliated, everyone hating me.

You couldn't know what that's like!

I know exactly what that's like!

I mean... well...

I know because...

after you ran home, they always beat me up.

Oh, what? That never occurred to you?

That I was the second-most unpopular kid in school?

That I made fun of you so I could be one of the guys?

It was the only way I got to feel what it was like

not to be the punching bag, not to be the outcast myself.

And it's not like it's changed much for me, either, you know.

I'm sorry.

(clears throat)

Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Chicken.

Do you have barbecue tongs, a buttered-up wicker bun pan,

and a towel we can throw away when we're done?

Kitchen, dear.

Kids.

Tell me about it.

You do your best and then you hope.

Exactly. Who knows if they grow up on the side of good

or the embodiment of pure evil.

It's a crapshoot.

You said a mouthful there.

Isn't that, though?

So...

Duckman, I was wondering...

Maybe you'd like to come downstairs

and see my office.

(gulps) I... I guess so.

Sure.

Well, here we are, my dark fortress,

nucleus of my deadly realm,

nexus of my horrific plots to kill you

and destroy the planet.

Now don't judge.

I'm not through decorating.

Sweet!

Here, of course

is a rather special section of the room.

You might recognize a thing or two.

Well, well, well.

Is my face red.

The time spent!

The attention to detail.

I don't know whether to be frightened or flattered.

(both laughing)

Oh, flattered, please.

I'll try not to wipe you off the face of the earth

while you're a guest in my house.

Appreciate it! Bok-bok.

It isn't! From '78?

That whole giant spinning wheel of death thing?

Talk about a crime!

I can't believe I wore those platform shoes.

Look at my hair!

And those muttonchops!

My God! You should have been killing me!

Hey, you have one of those fun machines!

Guilty as charged.

It relaxes me

and it's great around the holidays.

May I? Go ahead.

(music playing)

(clearing throat)

(clearing throat)

(sighs)

(sighs)

(drunkenly): You want to know a secret?

(both burping)

Sometimes, I wish I was an evil genius

just like you

because let me tell you

you are the best in the biz, mister.

It means a lot

to hear you drunkenly slur that,

'cause I never wanted just to murder you.

I wanted your respech-t.

You're the one!

You're Dickman, private duck.

You said a mouthful...

(burping): King Chicken.

(burping): Duckman!

(both guffawing)

I just want you to know

I love you, man.

I love you, too, man.

You know what this means.

Not that.

It means we're friends.

(both burping)

(both laughing)

DUCKMAN: Lactose intolerant. Ben Vereen.

Guppies in a trash compactor.

Uh... lactose tolerant.

Ben Johnson.

Guppies in a great big trash compactor.

Time. Time.

(all laughing)

What an amusing series of errors.

No, compadre, it was War and Peace.

A-ha. What's War and Peace?

It's a book.

A-ha. What's a book?

(laughs) Only kidding.

I used one to prop up a window just last week.

Well, charades is not only loads of provincial fun,

the built-in tension seems to have sobered all of us up.

(clattering)

(cackling laughter)

Perhaps one more game.

George, thinks I have a drinking problem

and I do...

I'm not plastered yet!

(laughing)

(chuckles nervously)

Duckman, I think it's just super that you're here tonight.

I hear your name around here so often--

cursed from the downstairs office

screamed in the middle of a sweat-soaked nightmare.

I've got an idea-- Scruples.

Doesn't ring a bell. The game?

The word.

You answer questions

and everyone votes

on whether you're telling the truth-- I'll show you.

"You're attracted to someone who's married.

Do you act on that attraction or not?"

You say, "of course not."

We all believe you and we move on.

"You have a chance to cheat on your wife of 17 years.

"Do you resist

"or do you reward everything she's given you

by betraying her with a relative of a sworn enemy?"

Getting the idea?

Oh!

My heavens, this won't do.

Duckman, help me walk.

She's only guessing.

She can feel the electricity.

Oh, Kingy, all I want is for you to get a divorce,

give up your life-long dream,

settle down in a god-forsaken sinkhole

and work long hours at a poorly paid service industry job

while I get old and fat caring for my dead sister's three children.

Is that too much to ask?

Bernice, the lure of that lifestyle is strong indeed.

Say, I've got an idea.

While I work on the divorce,

we can have sex on the sly

while I keep having sex with Honey

and never acknowledge you in public.

(growling)

You, uh... you sure the champagne's in here?

Oop. No. Here it is.

Now, don't pop that cork prematurely, Mr. Downy Buns.

(smacking)

Wait, wait, Mrs. Chicken, we can't do this.

This is wrong.

If we did anything, it would crush my new best friend

and we'd both regret it for the rest of our lives.

Of course, it's not like lives are that long.

(moaning)

What the...?

What's going on here?!

This is how you carry on a friendship?

Of course not. I barely even like her.

Oh, you meant with you.

Look, I wouldn't have gone through with it.

Another 20 or 30 minutes, I would have put my foot down.

Nothing's changed, has it, Dorkman?

You'd do anything to humiliate me.

Anything it takes to destroy my life.

Even if it means getting my wife

to violate the sacred bonds of matrimony.

Quit crowing, Mr. Cock-a-diddle-too.

You've been "violating" our "sacred bonds"

for who knows how many years.

I'm a man!

I mean... I have not.

I'm tired of your lies.

And I'm tired of slaving over a hot stove while you have

your little cellulite-encrusted tart for dessert.

Well, if I spent my life as tanked up as you do,

I wouldn't want to go near an open flame either.

Is that right?

Well, maybe Susie Homewrecker here

would like to help out.

Why don't you dip yourself in flour

and make a skank biscuit?

Blow it out your Jell-o mold, Betty Crock-o-sh...

Shut up!

This is your fault, Duckman.

Everything was fine until you ruined it,

you teeth-sucking boor.

Don't blame me, you rug-wearing suburban psycho.

Scrawny yellow hockey stick.

Chrome dome.

Hostess humper.

George Herbert Walker!

My name is King!

That's it.

It's over.

I am once again dedicating my life

to taking over the world

and destroying you in the process.

And I mine! To you.

Egad! You can't even banter properly.

We're on opposite sides of what's right, Chicken.

It's clear to me we could never be friends.

For the last time in our lives, we agree.

This friendship is deceased.

HONEY: Good.

I'm not a big fan of change.

You see, I realized some time ago

that I wasn't going to have a life I could be proud of

so I promised myself a life I could hang on to.

King's happiest when he's hating Duckman.

He's downstairs, he's working--

everything's in its place. I like that.

When you have very little,

you hold tight to the things that are there.

Which is why I also made sure

he signed a prenuptial agreement

promising me everything if he leaves.

Can you imagine the things I had to do

to get him to sign that?

The point being, he's not going anywhere.

My Kingy's life is his work and me.

Other people are too big a risk for us,

and I do what I have to to keep them out.

So, now that we all understand each other,

I think we'll assume that except in the course of their careers

as bitter arch enemies,

none of us will ever see each other again.

Agreed?

Dad, Aunt Bernice, I really like "Tommy."

I hope we can come back soon.

Dad? Aunt Bernice?

KING CHICKEN: Lovely people, and their front lawn's to die for.