Original subtitles

(whistles)

(quacks)

("Also Sprach Zarathustra" playing)

(grunting)

(laughing)

Waa!

(laughing)

So I told her,

hey, just think of it as a hairy recliner. Oh!

Thanks a lot. You're beautiful.

Except you, lady.

You're a freakin' schnauzer in pumps.

I'm serious.

Is that your face

or did your butt open a branch office? Oh!

Ba-da-bing! Ba-da-bang! Ba-da-boom!

Thank you, ladies and jerks.

Hey, we got a guy up next. I'm looking at him now.

And that reminds me, my doctor needs a stool sample.

Oh! Fake an orgasm for Iggy Catalpa.

That wasn't very nice.

Hey, I'll cry tomorrow.

You know, I never seen glasses on a turd before. Oh!

Uh, thank you.

I, uh, I'm... Iggy Catalpa.

I was checking my wallet like I forgot.

So, I, uh, uh, I'm very happy to be here,

but then, I'm happy to be here.

I mean anywhere.

I'm happy to be anywhere.

(coughing)

I, uh, I hope none of you were offended by Mr. Roulette.

He just forgets that, well,

sometimes you can hurt people, and the best laughter

comes from good, clean, inoffensive fun.

You suck!

You'll regret that when you, uh,

think better of it.

Sorry to be so harsh.

So, this medical care-giver of indeterminate gender--

because nurses can be male or female--

says to his or her disabled--

or should I say, differently-abled patient--

"Why do you have a penguin on your head?

They're endangered."

Ha. Ha-ha.

Drop dead, geekenstein!

I'm sorry. I'm doing my best.

Hey, don't do that, please?

Gee, I'd give anything if I could make an audience laugh.

Anything?

Talk about an outrage!

My life insurance is canceled!

Why would they drop me?

Could it be because you attempted to defraud them

ten times last month by falsely reporting your own death?

Don't guess at things you can't be sure of.

There's good news though.

I may have found an answer.

Life is cheap.

Tell me about it.

Just last week, I was in a bar talking to a white slaver...

No, no, no, no, no!

"Life Is Cheap Insurance Company."

This was on my doorstep. Listen.

"Complete and mail the enclosed do-it-yourself physical

"to qualify for the most easy-to-afford

and erratic life insurance available."

Beats the heck out of some quack charging me through the bill

just to grope a bunch of places

I don't even touch... hardly ever.

Says I need another person's help though--

someone with at least a minimal amount

of medical knowledge.

I graduated with honors from the Universidad de Medicino in Peru.

But you're the son of poor Okie mountain pigs.

How did you afford med school?

Two words: vivisection volunteer.

Sure, it hurt, but I'm told, as a result

of banging me on the head with a large hammer

and then slicing open my stomach

and digging around in my insides,

they were able to rule out two theories

on why fat people perspire.

Worthy cause. So, shall we get on with it?

Bend over, grab the desk and grit your teeth.

Wait a minute.

Does it say we have to do this?

Never mind.

It appears that you suffer

from high blood pressure induced by stress.

High blood pressure?!

Induced by stress?!

That's terrible news!

I hate getting terrible news!

I hate it! I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!

It says here, "In case of stress-induced

"high blood pressure, take enclosed pill.

"Then relax, kick your webs up

and have a few laughs."

A few laughs. Yeah.

If only there was something

to bring a few laughs into my life.

(intercom buzzing)

URANUS: Mr. Duckman, four comedians here to see you.

If only there was something

to bring a few busty, leather-clad,

thrill-seeking ex-nuns into my life.

It was worth a shot.

Hey, yo!

Cornfed, look!

My four favorite comedians

and one of their marginally talented husbands.

What are you doing here?

That's the second time I heard that today.

The first was when I woke up in bed

next to my wife. Ha, ha, ha...

(gagging)

I don't believe it.

Corny, this is Roulette.

How you doing?

You remind me of a chick I once porked. Oh!

Hoo-hoo! I love it!

He offends everyone.

This is Dennis Shandberg.

He finds humor in everyday lives.

Why do they call it "porking?"

I mean, when pigs do it, do they call it "peopling?"

Hoo-hoo-hoo! Get it?

It's funny 'cause it's obvious.

This is Roxanne and her husband what's-his-name.

John. How you do...?

(gagging)

See, John, I told you men were pigs.

(laughing)

She's right, Corny.

When you think about it, we all are pigs.

And this is Marvin.

He played the street-smart, yet non-threatening

black surgeon married to a corporate lawyer

living in Beverly Hills with his garbage man father

and overweight mother on the sitcom Ain't Life a Bitch?

What up, what up, what up?

Look, white skin, black skin, pig skin--

we all laugh at the same thing--

makin' bacon.

(laughing hysterically)

So true! So true!

We need you to solve a case for us.

Solve a case!

That's a good one!

Boy, that's absurd!

That's really...

Oh. (chuckles)

You're serious.

Well, then you've come to the right duck.

Who's the pile you want me to scoop up?

Iggy Catalpa, comedian.

He's stealing our audience.

Huh? He's too good.

No one wants to hear us.

What we want is for you to dig up some dirt on him.

There's got to be something you can find to get rid of him.

Look, uh, gang, I don't know.

I mean, there's no law against someone being funny.

Maybe he's just got something new

or special or different about his humor.

ALL: It's clean!

Clean?!

I can't let a lowdown scum like that put you guys out of work!

This world's depressing enough without a few insults, slurs

and good, honest laughs at other people's expense.

A case like this, you take for the principle...

and any favors, freebies, and groupie phone numbers

you can throw my way.

We'll give you some fake vomit and a whoopee cushion.

Throw in an ice cube with a fly in it

and you got yourself a deal.

I love these things.

I can't wait to meet this guy, Corny.

I'm going to give his past a once-over he'll never forget.

Get the dirt beneath the dirt.

They don't call me "The Dust Buster" for nothing.

Who calls you The Dust Buster?

People. Who?

Okay, no one,

but after this, they will.

Who will? Never mind!

(crowd laughing)

Wow, you hear that, Corny?

Those guys were right.

This guy must be incredible.

Let's go see.

A differently-abled person

goes to a medical care-giver of indeterminate gender

and the care-giver says, "Why do you have

"a penguin on your head?

They're endangered."

(laughing)

Funny.

This must be some kind of joke,

'cause that sure wasn't.

It's all going according to plan.

I can't believe you thought that guy was funny.

I had math classes funnier than him

and I couldn't even sleep through this.

I got to find something that'll take him down.

Chances are, he won't talk to a detective,

so I brought a disguise.

Voila! Not bad, huh?

Hey, where did Duckman go?

I was just talking to him

and, suddenly, poof-- he was gone

and a complete stranger was standing in his place.

Fine. Make mock if you like, but this is perfect.

People open doors for reporters

they won't open for anyone else.

If you're a reporter, I'm not opening the door.

Kidding-- I heard what you said.

It screamed for a payoff.

Come in, Mister...?

Duckman, uh...

Duckman N. Disguise.

And this is my assistant.

Pat Corchrane.

That's the best you could do?

We're reporters

for the Sun Sentinel Globe

Tribune Times Herald Picayune.

So much for that front page, but seriously,

last time I talked to a reporter,

he said, "Any words for the press?"

And I said, "Yeah, get a real job."

One, two, three.

But, hey, enough about you.

Moe Needleman, formerly the wizard of one-liners

on the "Boisht" Belt Circuit,

now Iggy Catalpa's personal manager

and all-around yenta.

Huh?

It's Yiddish.

An older generation of comics uses it

to further distance itself from a young audience. Ah.

Young, schmoung.

Comedy changes, but funny never does.

Ask me about my date to the senior prom.

What happened with your date to the senior prom?

She canceled to go to a wedding--

her own! Ha-boom.

I said, "What, you can't do both?"

Ba-boom.

Funny 40 years ago, funny now.

What am I-- talking in tongues?

You're looking at me like my Aunt Sophie did

when I told her I was playing

hide the kreplach with a shiksa! Ba-dum-boom.

Which reminds me-- can you believe those airlines?

Needleman, take a breather.

We're here to do a story on Iggy.

You never heard of warming up a crowd?

Igaleh, we have people.

Come, join.

Hi, everyone. Look what Moe got me.

It's a robe with my initials on it.

Gee, this is the best gift I ever got,

assuming no animals were killed to make it.

Course not. The ones they used was already dead,

but I want to tell you

Iggy, this is Mr. Corchrane

and Mr. Disguise.

They're reporters

and they want to do a story on you.

On me?

That's even neater than the robe.

No offense to the gift, of course.

There's no reason to praise a story

by tearing down the robe's self-esteem.

Such bilkes I get from him.

Couldn't you just plotz?

Yeah, all over the carpet.

I've got some questions for Iggy.

Subtlety is the key

to getting the dirt we want, Corny.

So, uh, Iggy,

it must be a bit heady basking in all this glory,

especially after your earlier days

as a... male hustler, was it?

What? Not to mention

those run-ins with the authorities over that baby-selling ring.

I don't know what you're talking about.

What about that story linking you

to the international drug cartel?!

Moe, what's he doing?

A smear job, kid, but he's wasting his ink.

He lives as clean as he works, Disguise.

And that's why he's going all the way to the top.

I've seen 'em all and Iggy's the best there's ever been.

What, are you nuts?

What about Foul-Mouth Jackson, Billy "Bananas" Bonetti,

or how about when Smoky Dan

used to hit Officer Barry with a flaming ax?

Oh, boy, that was comedy!

They didn't last, and you know why?

Because you didn't feel better when it was over.

There's only one way I can explain it.

Tickle the ivories?

I spent a year and a half

in the Tiki Room at the Toledo Holiday Inn.

Play, gypsy, play.

* There's a wild, funny feeling *

* That you feel inside *

* When it comes bubbling out *

* Ha, ha *

* It sends your senses reeling *

* It can't be denied *

* And it comes spurting out *

* Ha, ha *

* Take all the world's money *

* Increase it by half *

* Then offer it to me *

* I'd still rather laugh *

* There's no bigger pisser than a pie in the kisser *

* As it comes gushing out *

* Ha, ha *

Does it aim to please?

* Ha, ha *

Is it always in threes?

* Ha, ha, ha, ha *

* When life gets too tough for me *

* And deals bad stuff for me *

* It's more than enough for me to laugh *

* People are filled with hate *

* And burdened by sorrow's weight *

* So, please, if it's not too late, just laugh *

* It's the only reaction to the thunderous din *

* When you can't help yourself *

* Ha, ha *

* It's the self-satisfaction *

* If you have it, you win *

* So get off of the shelf *

* Ha, ha *

* Winners and losers *

* Through pleasure and pain *

* Just love mishegoss, astamul, gesehen *

* From Maine to Katmandu *

* This man and that man, too *

* Can't do without, can you? *

* Ha, ha *

* It's the antidote for your aunt, you'll note *

* That you can, you dolt *

* Oftenhand by rote *

* When laughter takes over, you're rolling in clover *

* It's comedy *

* Comedy *

* And they call it *

* Ha, ha! *

Now do you get it?

Hi, Duckman.

You're home late.

That's it?

No zinger about what a lousy father I am?

No one-liner about how either I just walked in

or a garbage truck overturned in our living room?

Iggy Catalpa says insult humor's pass�.

Et tu, Bernie?

What's happening here?!

This guy's taken over! He's everywhere!

IGGY: Excuse us, Mr. Disguise.

I'm even starting to hear his voice in my own home.

BOYS: Iggy!

Howdy, preadults.

I love performing for young people,

especially if they're dually capitated.

This is where you say, "Do you know what time it is?"

And I say, "Time to get a new lock on your door."

Try to keep up. But seriously,

forgot to give you these back at the club.

Two backstage passes

to my boy's maiden appearance next week on--

drumroll please--

The Late Night Tonight show.

Cool! All right!

Mr. Catalpa, may I say what a joy it is

to see someone like you succeed

using humor that doesn't degrade anyone

who's the slightest bit different from himself.

Right! Like I was the only one who laughed at the joke

about the gay midget with the cleft palate.

Oof!

Morris Needleman, Iggy's mentor,

but you can call me Moe, as in "Moe knows comedy."

(giggles)

(snorts)

Oh, Moe knows charm, too.

Moe's gonna want to know

a good lip doctor when he finds out where that hand's been.

Speaking of disgusting,

why did the congressperson almost regurgitate?

Because he or she got inebriated on power.

I, uh, I usually don't do satire.

Pardon me, sutzklah.

May we use your bathroom?

That joke usually does so well.

The joke's fine.

You're just running a little low.

If you think I'm so funny,

how come I got to drink this stuff?

Audiences are stupid.

You got to force them to like the right things.

Now get out there

and murder them... with laughter.

And speaking of laughter,

the last laugh's going to be on you, Duckman.

(laughing)

And he turned to her and he said,

"Well, ma'am, it's better than a pubic hair in your Coke."

Not, of course, the kind of joke meant for our constituents.

For what is our job, if not to legislate

a different set of standards for our citizens

than we set for ourselves?

The answer lies in "The Iggy Act"

which states that all jokes told publicly

must be as nice as Iggy's.

But wouldn't that violate

the constitutional right to free speech?

(murmuring)

Thank heavens for white-out.

Iggy, Iggy, Iggy!

It's driving me out of my mind!

Every single person I know loves him and he isn't funny!

Funny is a whiffle-ball bat in the gazongas,

or a little Super Glue on a toothbrush,

or this all-occasion pocket insulter.

Put a sack on it and slam it in a door.

Put a sack on it and slam it in a door.

(laughing)

Actually, I find the politically correct Iggy Catalpa

Pocket Comforter much funnier.

We sometimes disagree, but it doesn't mean we can't hug.

We sometimes disagree,

but it doesn't mean we can't hug.

(chuckles)

(groans)

DUCKMAN: It's over.

Without laughter, I don't know what's left.

I might as well go backstage. Wish him luck.

Maybe I could learn to like him.

"Why is that penguin on your head?

They're endangered."

(weak chuckle)

Oh, boy, what's the use?

I still don't get 'em. I never will!

Iggeleh, go autograph some pictures for those orphans.

So, Duckman, now that you've seen my secret,

it's me, your arch-nemesis--

King Chicken!

Whoa!

(laughing)

(clucking)

DUCKMAN: Why are you strapping me down?

What are you going to do to me?

Relax. You've got the best seat in the house.

Well, I appreciate the compliment,

but I don't swing that way.

No, you simpering idiot.

You still don't see, do you?

I did all this for you.

When we were schoolchildren together,

it was you who taunted me,

who humiliated me,

who got the other children

to laugh at me!

But things have changed.

You're the outcast now.

After tonight, you'll know what it's like

to have the whole world laugh

and to not be able to laugh with it.

(laughing)

(clucking)

But how?

Do you ever wonder

what makes someone funny?

Hey. Wit happens.

Likability!

I created a formula

that gives its user instant charisma.

One gulp and that walking oatmeal

seemed like a comic genius.

No one could resist him,

except you.

Of course, because I was too worldly and sophisticated

to be so easily duped.

No, because you were such a moron.

You took the antidote for the formula.

Only you would fall

for that idiotic do-it-yourself home physical

I sent for that phony-baloney insurance company,

taking that so-called pill

that did absolutely nothing for your high blood pressure.

You mean, I'm not insured?

Egad, but you're an imbecile.

Well, three minutes to show time.

Consider this concert one last bit of misery

before I come back...

and finish you off.

Hope I like the warm-up act.

Mind if I sit with you, gorgeous?

(giggling)

Help!

Help! Help! Help!!

Let me get you out of there.

Wow, yelling "help" never works.

I'm non-union.

ANNOUNCER: It's time for the moment

you've all been waiting for.

Iggy, wait!

(gasping)

Hey, Moe, Mr. Disguise told me everything

and I don't think it's very...

Get out there, you shmendrick!

(yells)

The red liquid's my intelligence formula.

Dad!

I know you all came here to see Iggy Catalpa

because you think he's funny, because you like his style,

because you just plain like him, right?

ALL: Yeah!

But you just think you do

because you were manipulated into thinking you do by him--

King Chicken.

(audience gasps)

He did it the same way they manipulate us

into buying toothpaste, car wax,

even politicians-- all prepackaged,

the least offensive, most appealing alternative,

but it's precisely when humor is offensive

that we need it most.

Comedy should provoke.

It should blast through prejudices,

challenge preconceptions.

Comedy should always leave you different

than when it found you.

(murmuring)

The rabble seems roused.

Sure, humor can hurt, even alienate,

but the risk is better than the alternative--

a steady diet of innocuous, child-proof, flavorless mush!

Demand to be challenged, to be offended,

to be treated like thinking, reasoning adults

and raise your children to be the same.

Don't let a comedian, a network,

a congressional committee, or an evil genius

take away your freedom to laugh at whatever you want.

Exit stage left.

Don't think you've seen the last of me yet, Duckman.

(laughing)

Wow, Dad.

That was incredible.

I never heard you be so passionate and eloquent.

Yeah, well, it was because I accidentally swallowed

King Chicken's intelligence formula.

The stuff I was drinking?

Actually, Mr. Disguise, that was just cherry soda.

Look, Iggy, I'm sorry

I had to expose him like that

and bring your world crashing down around you.

Me, too.

Well, guess it's time to move on to my lesbian jokes.

Hey, whatever works.

I think everything's going to be all right.

(humming)

* ...When it comes bubbling out *

* Ha, ha... *

(humming)