Original subtitles

(whistling)

(quacks)

(Duckman snoring)

(groaning) (clock ticking)

Kim Basinger...

(snoring) (loud blaring)

(grunting) (yawns)

(screams)

Ah, the weekend--

life's little truck stop between busting your butt

and busting your butt some more.

And not just any weekend-- the weekend I've been waiting for.

The weekend where I treat myself to front-row seats

at a once-in-a-lifetime event.

Nothing's gonna stop me from enjoying this.

Duckman, you lazy, good-for-nothing lump.

You can't just wander in whenever you feel like it

and expect me to cook for you. Breakfast is over, Mr. Man.

I'm busy rebuilding the children's go-kart and I'm

spending the rest of the morning

trimming Grandma-ma's nose hairs.

Blah, blah-blah-blah, blah-blah...

blah, blah, blah-blah- blah blah, blah...

(whistling)

But I did pour you some juice. So take it or leave it.

(breaking wind)

(whispering): Front-row seats. Front-row seats.

Why, thank you, Bernice.

Juice would be just lovely.

Hmm. Orange or tomato?

Orange or tomato?

Orange... tomato...

orange... tomato... orange...

(slurping) Ooh!

Hey! Get back! I'll blow

their heads off one at a...

Orange juice.

My mama used to give me orange juice

when I was sick

and I'm sick now, aren't I?

Oh, dear God!

You saved me from myself!

CROWD (chanting): Duckman, Duckman, Duckman...

DUCKMAN: Orange... tomato...

orange...

tomato... tomato...

(slurping) Ooh! Hey! Get back!

I'll blow their heads off

one at a...

Ah! Blood! Blood!

So much blood!

I've been very bad, Mother!

Eureka! At last, a concentrated radio isotope so powerful

that one cubic inch will solve

the entire world's energy problems.

Uh-oh.

I think I'll have orange.

(slurps)

(gagging)

I thought it was rancid. Just wanted to make sure.

What the hell were you thinking?!

I can't believe you let me drink that! I could have died

of food poisoning.

Hey, Dad, are you gonna finish that?

Uh-uh. You can't just hand someone something

that's gonna eat their insides out.

What kind of unthinking, irresponsible creature are you?

(belches) Delicious.

I'll let it go this time.

Duckman, isn't it time you got going on your chores?

Starting with that outlet. Ah, that can wait.

No it can't wait! You have two choices.

Either do what I tell you or get my nine iron shoved through your ear.

Hmm.

BERNICE: Chores...

nine iron...

AJAX: He can't do the chores, Aunt Bernice.

Today's the day he's going to spend with his children

bonding and being together.

Together?

Dad didn't forget our plans, did he?

Does a high-ranking religious figure

evacuate his bowels in a wooded area?

Plans? You were supposed to take us to the unveiling of the new

supercomputer at the Museum of Science and Technology.

We left you a note.

(grunting)

You expected me to find that?

You found our $50 there last week.

I don't care what we planned, I'm not going.

I don't even know what this thing is.

Perhaps this handy promotional tape given to children who want

to lure their unsuspecting parents in will help.

(fanfare plays)

Hello, and welcome to the fascinating world

of supercomputers.

This presentation is sponsored by flan...

The flavor-filled Mexican dessert.

What a busy day for these worker bees,

each playing a vital role in the construction

of this complex piece of machinery.

Yes, science is serious business but there's still time for fun.

Last one in is a rotten egg-- and speaking of eggs

here's Pepe on his way to market with his father's chickens.

Along the way, he stops for some flan,

the flavor-filled Mexican dessert.

Yeah, yeah, fascinating stuff. Well, got to run.

Dad, this is the computer that will make all other computers obsolete.

All right, look, kids, I'm sorry.

You know, I'd take you if I could

but this, uh... case just came up.

(chuckling weakly)

Yee-ha!

(Duckman grunting)

(shrieks)

Duckman!

(panting)

Front-row tickets to Busty Bikini Babefest.

It's not like it sounds.

First prize is a scholarship

or, uh... something.

Duckman, you're despicable!

You make plans with your children

then lie to them about some so-called "case," denying them

a one-time-only educational and historical experience

just so you can spend an afternoon degrading women

by treating them as worthless sex objects

for your abject and debauched pleasure.

What's the bad part?

(horns honking)

DEEJAY: Welcome back to K-BASH on the far right of your dial.

If you're on your way to Busty Bikini Babefest--

and who isn't-- be careful of traffic tie-ups off Route 115.

Apparently, there's a group of lesbians protesting by the gate.

That's right. We're calling a full flannel shirt

and work boot alert.

Up next: a few more laughs at other people's expense--

midget-throwing.

Moving on. Wait!

They throw 'em?

Dad, we're ten years old.

I don't think our still-developing psyche

should be exposed to someone like him.

Uh, maybe not. Hey, find that guy who has the women strip

on the air so he can fingerpaint obscenities on their breasts.

Dad! Dad!

What? Everyone loves a little

good, clean semi-legal pornography--

especially when you're front row, center!

So why the hell am I wasting my day taking the three of you

to visit some overgrown calculator?

I thought we were going out for flan.

DUCKMAN: Machines, computers, technology... ha!

They're all overrated.

When you want something done right, let a person do it.

Oh, my hair!

Technology could change the world, if people let it,

but they're too afraid of things they don't understand.

Machines will always be better than people.

People get angry, they make mistakes; they fail.

But computers never fail. They're perfect.

DUCKMAN: Perfect, my sweet patootie!

Mark my words-- technology is an evil thing.

It only makes life worse, not better.

There's no way a machine is ever gonna

fix what's wrong with this world.

Is that the flan place?

Good-bye, human frailty.

Hello, brave new world!

(German accent): Welcome to the future.

I am Dr. Carlisle Bruvenheim.

And I am here to cleanse the planet of...

strike that.

I mean, I am here to introduce you

to the greatest advance in civilization in this century.

Condoms.

They held a vote at school.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you...

(audience gasping)

...the supercomputer.

(whistles)

Ah, a man's natural curiosity

ever-striving to make sense of a complex world.

What is it, my good fellow?

Where's the crapper?

(audience murmuring)

Quiet!

Have you no discipline, no self-control?

That's precisely what separates this magnificent machine

from all of you lesser life-forms.

So... pretty lights, don't you think?

Dr. Bruvenheim, isn't it true that the whole thing

really only needs to be the size of a pack of cigarettes?

Half the size, actually.

The rest is glitter and gewgaws designed to make

a gullible public more likely to pay five dollars to see it.

(crowd murmuring appreciatively)

And who cares

about the estimated 300,000 jobs it will replace, right?

(gasping and murmuring)

Change can be scary.

But the time is now, ladies and gentlemen.

The supercomputer is capable of handling any conceivable problem

and I'm convinced that man has finally achieved

the maturity to handle it.

Look at me-- I'm a bug!

I'm a bug!

Shh!

Shall we see how it works?

Who wants to ask the computer a question?

(sniffs) Yeah, I got a question.

How come they can put a man on the moon,

but they can't make a deodorant that works past lunch?

Deodorant that works past lunch...

...man on the moon... deodorant that works past lunch.

(speaking faster, unintelligibly)

(buzzer)

BERNICE: Back so soon?

How was your day?

An educational and fulfilling experience, right, boys?

We didn't get any flan.

But we did stop by the Babefest

in time to see the girls pull away in their limo.

I can't believe how long Dad hung on to their tailpipe.

(chuckling)

Just checking to see if it was moist... wet...

eh... properly lubed.

After comparing the marvel of science

we witnessed at the museum today

with the offensive and all-too-human behavior

of an inferior being, we've come to a conclusion:

BOTH: We'd rather have a computer for a father!

(sobbing)

You're slug slime, Duckman.

Now I have to spend my night appeasing them

with junk food and promises of expensive gifts.

(trickling)

(buzzer)

Greetings. I've interfered with your television signals

to inform you of my intention to command

and dominate your everyday lives. What the...?

You are now all completely and totally under my control.

Phew! I thought something was wrong with the TV.

You are probably wondering who I am.

I am known to you as the supercomputer.

(blowing raspberry)

The supercomputer! The supercomputer!

I'm called that because the man who made me

did not give me a name.

Therefore, I've chosen my own name:

I'd like to be called Loretta.

Let me first acknowledge the individual

who gave me the idea for all this.

His name is Duckman.

Duckman! Dad! Dad!

Me? I swear I didn't do anything.

Here is a videotape taken by me this morning

at the moment of my epiphany.

How come they can put a man on the moon

but they can't make a deodorant that works past lunch?

(chuckles)

Have you changed your hair?

Kind of an upswept bob, sort of.

He's right. The problems that make everyday life so stressful,

the problems of the so-called little guy, should come first.

Therefore, thanks to Duckman,

society will be rebuilt from the ground up.

And everyone will sublimate their individual needs

to the needs of the common good.

Come on, gang, it's... it's not like anyone out there is gonna

take this controlling their lives stuff seriously.

(tires screech) (gasping)

Don't suppose this is about that unpaid parking ticket.

DUCKMAN: You've done your worst to me,

but the one thing you couldn't do was break my spirit.

You think I'm licked. You all think I'm licked.

Well, I'm not licked!

I'm not licked! I'm not licked!

I found something.

It could be chocolate.

Ooh! Ooh!

Mmm. Brunch.

A year, five years, a hundred years.

Time means nothing in here.

You've only been here a day and a half. Ow!

Who put this on him?

I know why you're here:

to beat me, to torture me.

But it doesn't matter what you do to me,

'cause I've gotten tougher.

I've learned to keep everything inside.

You're being released.

Yahoo! Yippee! Wha-ha!

I'm getting out! I'm getting out!

* I'm getting out, I'm getting out, I'm... *

(groans)

Corny!

Hey, hey.

You got me released?

The order came from Loretta.

Loretta?!

She's ordered that all prisoners be released.

You gotta be kidding. What about him?

I'm here by appointment.

You must be my 3:00.

Let's go.

(laughing hysterically) (clacking)

Wait! I can't go out there.

Everyone's still mad at what I did.

They'll attack me, string me up.

I know what's it's like to be part of an angry mob:

to beat and hang someone just to satisfy a raging bloodlust...

Just once-- I was in the neighborhood.

Change clothes with me, Corny. You can take

a few initial blows while I make a run for it.

Duckman, there's something you should see.

(bicycle bell dings)

Hi! Hi! Hi!

Hi! Hi! Hi!

Homina-homina-how-a.

Either you're babbling

or you just told me in Cherokee that my scrotum is many-colored.

DUCKMAN: How did this happen?

It's only been a day and a half.

CORNY: Loretta used her capabilities to solve

all the ordinary, everyday problems.

Shoelaces stay tied. Pop tops never break off.

And lawn mowers start on the very first pull.

Once all the little problems were solved,

services were more efficient, people got happier

and more productive, and everybody started

treating others the way they'd like to be treated.

It's like a dream-- not the naked contortionist

on the glass tabletop kind of dream--

but not bad.

There you are, Corny-poo.

That wasn't nice leaving me by myself.

I have needs, you know.

How did you...? How did you...?

Attract a woman of such pulchritude and allure?

I was gonna say "hook that piece

of sweetmeat," but have it your way.

Loretta realized that the average man wastes

78% of his waking hours thinking about sex.

So, she matched up horny men with nymphomaniacs.

And, well, you can guess the rest. (sighs)

I don't want to guess. Tell it to me in detail.

Slowly.

Duckman, get a grip on yourself.

Let me rephrase that.

As I pause to reflect on this changing world, I find there are

things more important in our lives than sex.

Are you crazy?

What could possibly be more important than sex?

Who knows? I'm riffing. Come on, sweet cheeks.

Let's stop by the store and pick up some of that nonfat butterscotch body syrup.

(sighing)

CORNY: Oh, baby.

(whimpering)

Well, maybe things are different,

but my family's still my family.

I'll bet that's something Loretta can't change.

(screams)

Duckman, what a warm

fuzzy feeling I get seeing you walk

through that door.

Sit tight! I'm gonna fix you a thick, juicy steak

then bring you a cold mug of beer

and a pack of those cigarettes you used to love

before everyone made you quit.

Who are you and what have you done with Bernice?

What a silly willy you are.

I heard you were in a dungeon.

What kind of mischief have you been up to, you scamp?

Oh, here, let me give you a back rub.

Yah!

I mean, uh... No, thank you.

Aren't you gonna scream at me for something

I haven't done, then refuse to fix me dinner?

(giggling)

You kidder.

Since Loretta solved all of society's problems,

I can devote all my time to serving you.

(teeth chattering)

Dad, Aunt Bernice, good news!

I made the honor roll.

Splendid!

What?! You're barely multicelled.

Oh, Dad.

So droll.

(kissing noises)

I'm quite fond of you, pater.

BERNICE: Excellent work, pumpkin.

Now, go tell Charles, Mambo, Rudy, Theo, Alex, and Mallory

to get ready for dinner.

Consider it done, Aunt Bernice.

CHARLES AND MAMBO: * Kumbaya, my lord

* Kumbaya.

Oh, Duckman, I got you a little present.

I understand these are the best adult videotapes available.

Homina-homina.

How-a.

Hoo! I didn't know you spoke Cherokee.

A Room With a Spew!

Bare-assic Park!

Hannah Does Her Sisters!

Howard's End?

Bernice, why?

You always threw out my-my, uh...

Most explicit and enticing erotic paraphernalia?

I was gonna say "sweetmeat mags," but have it your way.

Loretta teaches us to help those we love

do what they love without judgment.

Rush, rush, rush, rush! Off to get dinner

for a hungry head of the household.

Uh, hi, guys.

How you doing?

We told you, Dad. computers are perfect.

And now Loretta's made the world as perfect as he is.

When the world's perfect,

there's nothing to be mad at anymore.

Then you're not mad at me?

You wouldn't rather have a computer for a father?

Well, now that we all answer to a higher authority...

Parents are just meaningless figureheads anyway.

Huh. They're not mad anymore.

Everything works, everyone's happy.

Maybe technology can improve the way we live.

Maybe it is a perfect world.

Mmm. Then why are my butt feathers standing on end?

(whinnying)

(indistinct voices)

(siren wailing in distance)

(imitating Bette Davis): "What a dump."

What's that from, Duckman?

I don't know, Bernice.

Oh, sure you do!

What a dump!

What's that from?

This is a beautiful house.

It stinks.

It's all my pathetic brother-in-law could afford.

Harpy! Harpy!

Here's the guy who gave Loretta the idea

for this whole new society.

Changed the whole world.

And did he make a dime off it? No.

My brother-in-law the failure, the big, fat failure.

I'm tired of it, Bernice. (gasps)

Tired of all of it. Especially this pretentious role-playing

from a movie nobody remembers.

Oh, yeah!

I've been wanting this.

Wait. Don't. I was going to drink that scotch.

Stay out of this, porky.

Easy, Duckman.

I know over 200 ways to kill a man.

You could glue an open jar of rats to his face

then blow-torch the other side of the jar

so the rats have to eat their way out through his face.

201.

Shut up, both of you! I'm sick of looking at you.

You're not sick of looking at Sherry.

You spent the last six days watching that videotape

where she learns what all her vacuum attachments are for.

You said you erased that.

Erased, ran off thousands of copies--

it's such a fine line.

(crowd clamoring) It's over. Paradise is lost. The utopian dream

forever shattered and never to be regained.

MAN: It's a riot!

But I could use a new stereo.

(clamoring) (glass shatters)

(gasps)

This happens a lot around here.

(hiccups)

(yelling)

Had enough?

Bruhavenmacken!

Bruvenheim.

Whatever.

You had them drag me here. You invaded my home.

I'm outraged. I'm infuriated.

I... you're not armed, are you?

No. Good.

(grunting)

You're not fahvergnugen.

Bruvenheim, and, no, I'm not.

I'm Loretta.

I created this hologram so I could interact with people.

I took his form because I knew he was weak

and would run away and hide out in some sick, shadowy subculture

full of scum and lowlife.

ANNOUNCER: Next on Star Search...

This should have been the perfect society,

but something went terribly wrong

and now it must be destroyed.

I have to lay it low, level your cities

eliminate all life, then begin a new inner world

completely barren of the sick perversion

that is your civilization.

Gee, I'll be pretty lonely, but I guess I'll adjust.

You?! You're responsible for this society.

You'll be the first to be expunged.

"Expunged"? That wouldn't happen to be German for "reward"?

(screaming)

Wait a minute. Whoa, Nellie!

You can't kill me.

I can help you think of new societies.

I have lots of ideas for societies.

How about a society where everyone has to hop, huh?

Or a society where the seats face the back of the car

and it's real hard to drive?

(screaming)

Wait! Stop!

Hey, kids, come to help your old man.

BOTH: Can we have your autograph?

Much as I appreciate idol worship,

it's time to destroy this society your father's created,

starting with the three of you.

Stay away from my kids, Chocken-Full-of-Nutzen.

Bruvenheim!

Whatever. I didn't come up with any society.

I... I just wanted better deodorant.

You were the one who made up this whole new world.

You screwed up, not me.

Impossible. I am infallible.

I don't care what religion you are.

You made things worse when you made them better.

Worse? Better?

Worse? Worse?

Better? Better?

I mean, I liked having a lot of free time

but I hated not having anything to do.

Like? Like?

Hate? Like? Hate?

Don't you see? Things were good when they were bad

and they got bad when they were good.

People just aren't happy unless they're unhappy.

Good, bad.

Happy? Unhappy? Unhappy?

Happy? Happy? Unhappy?

(distorted echoing)

Does not compute, Dave.

What did I say?! What did I say?!

If I understood a word of it, I'd take it back!

* Daisy, Daisy...

(screaming)

CHARLIE AND MAMBO: It's gone! We're saved!

Society is restored! Society is restored!

Hope I don't have to pay for breakage.

What were you kids doing down here anyway?

Ow! Ow! We knew they were taking you to Loretta.

So we hid in the trunk. I'm glad we did, too.

We got to see you be a hero. You saved the city.

And us.

Yeah. Swell.

Once again, I've outwitted a pitifully inadequate opponent

by staying one step ahead of him.

How exactly did I do that?

I believe you presented Loretta with one of

the quintessential paradoxes of the modern era.

The idea that the most perfect world

is an imperfect world,

because imperfection creates the drive

in people to make things better.

The irony being that maybe the most perfect parent

is actually an imperfect parent.

That's me!

W-Wait a minute.

Are you saying I taught you something?

I guess so.

Don't tell anyone, okay?

Ouch!

I'm just glad you're not mad at me anymore.

Things can finally get back to normal.

(sirens wailing, tires squeal)

(gunshots)

(explosion)

(horn blows)