Original subtitles

Look, there's only one greatest inventor,

and that's me.

You couldn't invent your way out of a paper bag.

Dream on, you overblown tinkerer.

Why are you wearing a rubber fish on your head?

What do you mean, why am I wearing a rubber fish?

It's Thursday. I always wear a rubber fish on Thursdays.

It's Wednesday.

It's Wednesday?

Now I feel like a proper fool.

Why didn't you tell me?

You're losing this contest und you know it.

No, I'm not losing.

I can out-invent you even in my sleep.

I'll be ready for our ultimate invention contest tomorrow

exactly as planned.

I'm not ready at all.

I'd better stay up all night again.

So what if I haven't slept in...

I don't remember how long.

I cannot lose to that clown.

Besides, I'm fresh as a daisy.

See?

The Pac is back

Ghosts chomping at his feet

Pac's our hero Pac just can't be beat, yeah

Pac-Man yellow, Pac extreme He's a chowing-down machine

Ghosts, monsters, ghouls And only one can stop them

Pac-Man rules

The Pac is back

Ghosts chomping at his feet

Pac's our hero Pac just can't be beat

The Pac Is Back

I've been dreaming about slurping down this triple fruit yogurt.

My cone!

Pac-alicious.

But still hungry.

Hopefully, Sir C'll have something tasty...

Yo, scanner, it's me, Pac-Man.

I know the drill. Hang on.

One nose hair for DNA analysis,

and now a little something for the burpalyzer ID.

Identity confirmed. Pac-Man.

Told ya it was me.

Sir C, where are you?

You haven't been this excited to see me for a while.

What's up? Where's our favorite genius?

Hey, Sir C?

Sorry to wake you, but, you said you wanted to see me.

Guess he's a pretty sound snoozer.

Tuna melt trumps sardine sandwich. Go fish.

Pac, my boy, I must have dozed off.

I've been a tad stressed lately.

What day is it?

Thursday.

Well, then it's time.

Sir, you're acting kind of strange, even for you.

That's because I have a contest deadline today,

and I'm not ready.

A contest? With who?

Or is it "whom"?

Can you keep a secret?

The who-whom is Dr. Buttocks.

But he's the enemy.

I know, I know.

But the only way I could get him to stop stealing

my inventions was to agree to a contest.

So what's the big?

You can whup Buttocks' backside any day.

Lately, my inventions aren't nearly as good as the evil doctor's.

No way!

Yes way. I'm losing my edge.

Dr. Heinie-Head bested me with his earwax candles,

his windshield wiper for cell phones,

his hydraulic peanut butter spreader,

and his balloon-inflating accordion!

Genius!

Now today's the ultimate contest, and I've got nothing.

Inventor's block.

Then, what's that?

I don't know. It wasn't there last night.

I did it again!

-What did you do? -Some folks sleepwalk, I sleep-invent.

Then you're all set for your competition.

Not quite. You see, I never remember

what my sleep inventions are supposed to do!

No worries. Cyli and Spiral and I will figure out what this gizmo is.

Thank you, son. I really appreciate your help.

And while you're at it,

can you tell me why I got these buckets on my feet?

So, what do you think it does?

I'm going way out on a limb here.

Maybe you play softball with it?

I figured the same thing.

That's why I brought this.

-Batter up. -All right.

The pitcher checks for the sign.

He shakes it off.

Looks like it's gonna be a fastball.

He goes into his wind up and...

Spiral knocks it out of...

Okay, not a softball.

Whatever it is, I sure don't want it.

Definitely not a softball.

Yeah, I've heard of a burning fastball,

but not one that slices and dices the bat to bits first.

So back to square one.

What is it?

Hang on! It's a laser drill?

The flag of Pac World?

Well, whatever it is, it's sure patriotic.

I am so great, yeah I am so smart

When it comes to brains I am off the chart

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, bring it down...

I can only assume that this excitement stems from the fact that

you've once again ripped off one of Sir Cumference's inventions.

I do not need that has-been's junk.

I've got my own junk...

Brilliant invention.

Behold!

No, I think "junk" is the right term.

Allow me to explain...

No! Allow me!

First, that armored suit went out of style, centuries ago,

and second, the Pac-pest can chew through this rust bucket

in two seconds flat.

True, O Stater of the Obvious.

Easy as this.

Hello? My point exactly.

But watch what happens

when the armor has been sprayed

with my new beyond brilliant Buttanium!

This could actually keep the Pac-pain from gobbling my ghosts.

Exactly.

Shall we test it?

Permit me.

Will my sycophantic sibling, please, report to my lab?

Now!

The coast is clear.

Send out the victim... Volunteer.

No, Let me out.

Stop.

Buck up, Butt-ler.

This is for the glory of the Netherworld.

Und me.

How is it that your glory always turns into my gory?

Now, go spook enough Pac Worlders to bring out the lemon ball.

Fly like the wind, faithful knight!

What's going on?

My patented Buttanium is the strongest coating ever created.

Which makes it a teensy-weensy bit heavy.

And your brain Is a teensy-weensy bit lame.

Stop mucking about.

Just get out there and scare up the Pac-pain.

I am a scary ghost. I am invading you.

Pac, ghosts!

Someone should invent a cell phone with windshield-wipers.

Thanks for the heads-up. I'm on my way.

Gotta go gobble a ghost.

Keep trying to figure what that gizmo does.

I'll meet ya back here soon as I eyeball belch.

Okay, Spiral, let's review what we know.

It likes flags.

And hates bats.

And is equipped with sword and cannon-like lasers.

So, maybe it's reenacting some famous battle.

Let's see if we can find a historical reference.

Looks like it's doing whatever it does again.

Let's hope it doesn't do the laser...

Too late.

I was afraid that might happen!

That's why it's important to always know,

where the fire extinguisher is and how to use it.

True that.

Way weird.

I am a spooky specter...

Best summon the Pac-Man to save you.

Already here.

Butt-ler?

Is that you in this old soup can?

Yes.

Sent here on another futile experiment by you-know-who.

Or is it whom?

Bummer. Sorry, dude.

But you know, I got to eat you now.

That is my lot in life.

Proceed.

I could have broken a tooth.

I'm alive! Alive!

Well, for a ghost, that is.

I didn't even make a dent in that armor.

This looks like a job for... Titanium Pac.

-Sorry again, dude. -Me too.

Ghost chomping time.

Nothing. What kind of armor is this?

It works. It works.

Just think. You leading an army of stalwart knights

into battle, like King Arthur.

Your armor glistening in the sunlight like...

Glistening armor.

Sore tooth.

I mean, forsooth!

I shall be-eth the high king of the realm.

Zounds!

How soon-eth can I have-eth an army ready-eth?

By my troth. This very afternoon, My Liege.

And it shall be unstoppable.

Goody-eth.

Toothache?

Thanks to some un-chomp-able ghost armor.

What the heck was that stuff made of?

Dr. B calls it Buttanium.

Hi, Pacums.

Sorry to always be the bringer-upper of bad news.

That's okay, Pinky.

So what's the deal with this Buttanium stuff?

Buttocks swears that it's harder than any weapon

on or under Pac World.

So he's outfitting an army of ghost knights

to invade Pacopolis.

We'd love to stay and help you,

but we can't be late for our armor fitting.

Thanks for the heads-up.

Au revoir, my sweet Pac prince.

We'd better see if Sir C knows how to bust through the Buttanium.

I'm kind of worried, Sir C might actually be losing it this time.

Then we need to come up with our own brilliant plan.

I got nothing. Let's go with Cyli's idea.

Sir C, we need your help.

Betrayus is sending a ghost army this way,

protected by armor coated with something called Buttanium.

Yeah, it's so hard, I might have cracked a tooth.

No way. I refuse to let anyone near my teeth named "Grinder."

Sorry, but I've officially retired from science.

-What? -You can't quit!

Forget that!

Well, when Dr. Buttocks can best me,

it's time to hang up my brain.

But we need you, Sir C.

Pac World needs you.

Yeah, like it needs my latest invention?

I finally remembered what the silly thing does.

Really? What?

We were totally stumped.

Watch.

Right.

Been there, seen that...

And that.

So, what exactly is it?

An automatic meatloaf maker.

In other words, it's completely useless,

just like me.

Where are you going?

Off to my new job.

I'm giving up inventing and becoming a window washer.

-Please, Sir C! -Come back.

Don't give up, dude.

Most excellent meatloaf ever.

Please, Sir C!

I'm not good for anything else.

Now, let me hook up this hose.

Don't give up on yourself, Sir C.

You're a genius.

Gotcha!

Genius?

What kind of a genius hooks a garden hose to a fire hydrant?

Now, run along and leave me alone.

Looks like Betrayus may actually take over Pac World this time.

In the name of Sir Lancelot,

Sir Bedevere, and Sir Loin...

I hereby dispatch ye valiant paladins to take Pac World by storm.

Charge!

It's going to be a long invasion.

Verily.

An army of armored ghosts is attacking, Mr. President.

What's their estimated time of arrival?

At their current speed, at least half an hour.

In that case, get me Pac-Man, and a turkey sandwich.

Onward, my stalwart brigade.

Pull down their parapets, capture the townsfolk,

and scrape up their pavement.

This is ridiculous.

We need speed.

No problem.

We are about to have lift-off.

Fire!

Look out!

Move it, Move, move, move!

Stop in the name of the law!

Nay, I say.

Nay! Nay! Nay!

We can't stop them,

but we can certainly outrun them!

Slime them. Slime them all.

-I've been slimed! -Yuck! Move it.

Yon slime knights are faring well, methinks.

You methinks right, Milord.

The only thing I fear is that ye old army is moving so slowly that,

we may have to break for lunch soon.

Take cover! Retreat! Move, move, move, move!

Move, move, move!

You sent for me, Mr. President?

Yes, Pac-Man.

Betrayus is staging another invasion.

We need you to go out there and gobble his troops.

I can't, sir. I'm sorry.

-How about if I implore you? -No, sir.

-Cajole you? Beg you? -Won't work.

Please, Pac-Man,

which knee do you want me to get on?

When I say I can't, I mean it's impossible, sir.

Their armor is too tough to bite through.

You mean it's...

Hopeless? Yes, sir.

Looks like this is one military contest we're going to lose.

Contest? That's it! Gotta go.

Sir C, we really need to get...

Check it out, Pac, my boy.

I'm finally getting the hang of this.

But you don't understand.

Seriously.

This glass is so clean, it's like it's not there.

That's because it's not there.

Sir C, Forget the windows.

You have an invention contest today.

And I predict a devastating defeat.

Buttocks will make me into a complete laughingstock.

I mean, who needs an automatic meatloaf maker?

Beside Fuzbitz and me.

We do love our Sunday night meatloaf.

And anyone who wants to pierce the armor of a ghost knight,

I'm betting your laser drill can do the job.

By gum, you could be right!

That flag-drill is made from my patented Sircumferzene,

which may very well be tougher than Dr. B-Head's Buttanium.

To the lab.

Weird.

I turned off the meat mincing and cooking programs

and just left the laser drill.

It'll zip through anything including Buttanium.

Here you go, Sir Pac-alot.

All right! Thanks, Sir C.

As soon as you've put holes in all the armor,

you'll be able to suck out those ectoplasmic pests.

Now go, brave, young knight, and send the enemy Pac-ing.

Forward!

To the Round House!

Hearken to my voice, O knights.

I proclaim that yonder kingdom shall soon be mine.

Mine, I say!

Not so fast, Your Lowness.

Sir Pac-alot is here to foil your dastardly scheme.

Plus Lady Cylindria.

And Sir Spiral!

And Sir Cumference!

I just got that.

Gadzooks! Interlopers!

Well, never mind, they shan't dissuade my mighty militia.

Don't be so sure.

What can a second-rate inventor und some teenagers

do to my Buttanium army?

Hi-yo, Pac-nana!

I don't get it.

What is that lemon menace doing?

How's your bowling average, Spiral?

Watch me hit the headpin.

I'll pick up the spare.

Score!

Has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

Pac-attack!

Pac-attack? There's nothing to attack.

My ghosts are still in their armor.

Yummers.

I thought you said that junk was indestructible.

Who... But... Not possible!

How could that lance pierce my Buttanium armor?

My kingdom for a horse!

Stay and fight, you blithering, slithering cowards!

Two words...

Fail-ure.

My Buttanium is a bust.

So, I guess we know who won the ultimate invention contest?

And here's the best part...

I not only saved Pac World with my automatic meatloaf maker,

I invented it in my sleep!

The only thing I can do in my sleep is this...

No doubt about it,

we all know who's the most amazing inventor ever.

You got our vote.

I must admit...

It was gratifying to show up Dr. Slimeystein.

I guess you'll be hanging up that squeegee now.

Or maybe not. I kind of enjoyed it.

But right now I'm going back to the lab, to catch some Z's

and see what else I can whip up while getting my 40 winks.