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(blade whirring)
(woman screams, loud thudding)
Great Caesar's gumbo party!
Can you believe it?
200 bucks for a parking ticket.
You parked in a handicapped space.
So what? No one ever notices,
except the people who are supposed to park there
and hell, I can outrun them any day.
Extra police are here
because the president is touring the neighborhood today.
Perhaps they thought you looked suspicious.
Suspicious? Me? Ridiculous.
Hey, maybe I'll go see the president.
You're not going to complain to him about the size
of the pasties at that airport bar again.
What? They're way too big.
But that's not all, Corny-- I'm going to talk to him
about people making a commitment to our country,
providing a new tomorrow for our children,
making the future everything it can and should be.
Forget it. There's a line.
(knocking)
Enter!
Hi. The blown-up and dismembered
stuffed animals told us to go on in.
I hope we're not disturbing you.
You're drooling in your desk.
It's all part of what we do here.
What do you do here?
I look at breasts--
and I'm a detective.
But mainly the breast thing.
ALL: Oh, cool.
It's times like this I wish I had a penis.
So, eat to please you.
Uh, plead to beat you.
I'm Duckman. This is Cornfed.
Word.
I'm Katrine.
I'm Petra.
I'm, um... don't tell me.
Cornfed.
That's his name.
Oh, yeah.
That's where I heard it.
(all giggling)
And where are you three arousing and,
hopefully, not Catholic-educated ladies going?
We were going downstairs to see the president
and we got lost.
Which way is it to the ground?
Uh... down.
Told you!
Hey, up, down--
long as one comes after the other
over and over and over.
May we accompany you ladies?
Wait a minute!
Will you be trying
to have sex with us later?
Uh... yes.
ALL: Cool.
(hooting laughter)
Well, if you'll just wait outside
I'll join you faster
than you can say "pass the canola oil."
(giggling)
Bye.
Wow! This president thing
is just the babe magnet I need.
I sure wish you could go with us.
Remind me again why I can't.
Well, you have to stay here in case we get a client.
Hell, I can't even say it with a straight face.
I won't lie to you, old friend.
I'm selfishly and greedily cutting you out of the action
'cause I want the girls to myself.
Well, got to go get my basket weaved!
When I snap, I'll killhimfirst.
Katrine, Petra, Cornfed!
Oof!
Ow!
Ooh!
Please, would you?
God... (muttering)... Ooh!
Su-su-sudio, there they are!
Ooh, Mr. President.
(indistinct radio transmission)
Make the rabbits leave me alone!
Right in my sights! Right in my sights!
(screams)
Ow!
Whoo!
I would have scraped my knee
if I hadn't landed on this gun-wielding maniac.
Gun-wielding maniac!
(Duckman yells, crowd screams)
WOMAN: He saved the president's life!
It wasn't me.
I swear it wasn't...
I... I did?
Of course I did.
That's me--
presidential savior.
Guess this will make me a national hero.
And here comes the press.
Ah, the price of fame.
Come forth, estate.
Right here. I'm fit to print.
For what is heroism...?
REPORTER: When'd you snap?
Why'd you do it?
Why'd you snap? When'd you do it?
Have you ever dated Madonna?
Would you like to?
Wait a minute! Stop the presses!
I'm the hero!
Why the hell aren't you talking to me?
What for? At least hecame here todosomething.
All you did was get in the way of a bigger story.
Did anybody ever save a paper with the headline
"President Not Shot"?
Hey, guys! Unsubstantiated rumors
and ill-informed gossip over here!
(reporters clamoring)
DUCKMAN: Well, well, well...
finally someone gives a hero his due.
What is heroism...?
Who cares about that?
You urine-colored feather duster!
You were this close to the assassin--
Lee Harley Kozak.
Actually, you were this close.
(groans)
(screaming)
Don't say anything, you sick, Nazi cow!
I'll nail you to the wall
for what you did to my client in your column!
You're nothing but a dried-out old hag!
(gibbering over phone) Huh?
Well, is your mommy home?
Never mind.
Ah, the Duckman.
Nice to meet you--
and that's only a slight exaggeration.
Who the hell are you?
Arthur Salvo.
Publicist and dream-maker extraordinaire.
I'm going to make you famous.
Huh?
Hey, how?
Clearly not
with speaking engagements. Ha!
I'll tell you how.
To start with, I booked you
on the hottest daytime talk show around--
Geofredo.
After that you'll take off
faster than metastasizing cells from a smoker's lungs!
All you have to do is sign.
(sinister laughter echoing)
Sorry... I just thought
of something funny I said last week.
While the world watched, the life of
the most important person on the planet who isn't me
was saved by one man, Duckman.
An exclusive today on Geofredo
an episode that's so important, half of it will be commercials.
Back in seven minutes.
Geofredo...
What, you think you can proposition me
just because I like to hang out
in locker rooms nude, with a lot of sweaty boxers?
I... I'm Duckman.
Oh, right.
You're great. It's a real honor.
I can't believe I'm really here.
I mean everybody watches Geofredo.
His show on impotent lesbian roller-blading skinheads
was a classic.
Whatever.
30 seconds to air. Break a leg.
Whose?
Ha! I said, "break a leg."
Like in "good luck."
You went the whole other way with it.
Everyone else would have gone the first way--
the ordinary way--
but you said, "No, no, I'm going the other way."
You're the best, Duckman.
Break a leg!
Whose?
We're back with the man who has been hailed as a national hero.
Duckman, what went through your mind
when you heroically moved
to stop Kozak from committing this heinous crime
that would've shocked the world?
Well, Geofredo, I...
I haven't given it much thought
but what is heroism? What is courage?
(playing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic")
In the end, I simply did what any American would do--
his sacred duty to protect this land
and its peoples from any and all
that would or will do them or they harm or hurt.
Am I a hero?
If doing what needs to be done
to save the world is heroism
well, then, guilty as charged.
Duckman, what would you say if I told you we had
exclusive, amateur videotape
of your true activities
in the crucial moments before the rescue?
Mommy...?
GEOFREDO: A pinch?
WOMAN: He pinched them!
There you have it-- the blind-side ambush
you'd think anyone coming on a show like this
would expect by now.
So, how many feel that Duckman
should be imprisoned and/or beaten?
(scattered applause)
Really?
Do I have I have to remind you
there were innocent children there, watching,
as this depraved fiend made his filthy advances?
Perhaps even your children's minds forever poisoned--
futures forever tarnished?
Perhaps even driven to drugs?
Well, maybe it's not hip and maybe it's not popular,
but I think drug-pushers and wife-beaters,
and child-molesters and mother-killers
and World Trade Center terrorists
should be locked up for life.
I say why wait for the courts to find Duckman guilty?
We're the only court that matters--
the court of public opinion.
You heard him yourself say he was guilty as charged.
Who thinks Duckman should die?
(all shouting)
Ahh!
(gunshot)
Mother Teresa--
traveling the world, helping the needy
or racking up frequent flyer miles with your donations?
On the next Geofredo.
Ahh!
(siren wailing)
(moaning)
I can't believe he set me up.
Actually, I set you up.
I okayed the videotape and gave it to Geofredo.
And you know why?
They hate you, but they'll drive over their own mothers
to hear more about you.
By tomorrow they'll only remember that you're famous.
You sleep now.
But I'm not tired.
How about now?
(gasping)
(static crackling)
Welcome back to 'round-the-clock coverage
of Duckman the Pinchaholic
not because the story is important
but because our constant focus makes it important.
Due to good, hard investigative journalism
and because we paid them the most,
Duckman's next-door neighbor is with us on Inside Copy today.
Yeah, he's a lowlife, slimeball deviant.
Living here isn't all that bad, though.
Thanks to him, I'm charging
newspeople ten bucks to use my crapper.
Pretty sweet.
Late-breaking news on Pinchboy.
I'm getting word in my earpiece
that we have a shred of new, incriminating information...
No... no, we don't, but who knows, we might soon.
Meantime, a look at the store where he buys his combs.
(protesters clamoring)
(indistinct shouting)
(helicopter whirring overhead)
Oh, look, the traffic chopper sky babe.
Hey, mama, how about landing on my zero-niner?
I'll wear a wind sock.
(helicopter crashing)
That just goes to show
you need to use all your fingers to fly a helicopter.
I can't believe this.
I saved the president's life,
and they treat me like some incompetent, oversexed loser.
What part don't you understand?
(all clamoring)
Duckman, the press is like a wild animal.
Everyone knows if you're confronted by a wild animal,
the smart thing to do is to wave a piece of raw meat in front of it.
The animal will smell the meat,
think it's eaten and fall asleep.
My Uncle Frank, the former big game hunter, told me that.
Well, actually, he typed it
using a stick he held in his teeth.
(all cheering)
(grunts and groans)
Duckman, do you think you're a pervert?
Listen, bucko.
The ability of a nation to protect its leaders
is its pride, its manhood.
At the moment in question,
I held the president's manhood in my hands,
and I don't mind telling you, it felt great.
Does that make me a pervert? You decide.
Let's see them twist that out of context.
Shall we continue?
And that is why in Togo, biscuits are called Duckman.
And now I must leave you
as the Brady Bunch is on,
and I find four of those children incredibly arousing.
(all laughing)
Get out of here.
(door closes)
There, Bernice, I answered a few questions.
That should hold them.
You were out there for three days!
Duckman, in some sick way,
I think you're starting to enjoy this horrible circus.
That's crazy!
Wait. No.
Actually, that's 100% true.
I always get those two mixed up.
Sorry for bursting in like a runaway train.
It's business.
Duckman, due to our sterling reputation
and my cold-calling over 12,000 people yesterday,
we have a case.
Stuff it, sparerib.
There's no more gum on my shoe.
I finally plugged into the true American work ethic--
raking in loads of cash without an ounce of actual effort.
I can do whatever I want, Corny.
My name is gold.
In fact with a reputation like mine,
I could even run for office.
While I know it won't be easy,
it's not like I've sold arms for hostages,
but I can do it. I can do anything.
Ha, ha! Ha, ha!
Ha, ha, ha, ha... (crashing, glass breaking)
For those of you who went out for a beer,
we've created a monster.
(TV playing)
Cholesterol and gristle!
Get it while it's congealing.
(gasps)
(all clamoring)
(slurping and munching nosily)
(burps loudly) (sighs)
I'm guessing there are a few extra chromosomes in this house.
Duckman, about this recent behavior,
I think you're overexposing yourself.
Hey, it was an innocent walk across campus.
Those coeds blew it way out of proportion.
What Mr. Desalvo is referring to
is the way you've been spreading yourself a little too thin.
To wit: There's Duckman T-shirts, Happy Meals,
condoms, tequila, suppositories and aluminum siding.
There're Duckman pajamas with peekaboo butt-flaps.
There's Duckman cereal, where strawberry Duckmen
pinch toasted-wheat women.
There's Duckman dairy-air frozen yogurt,
simply Duckman scented love oils,
Duckman tartar-control tukus toothpaste
with its pinchable butt-shaped dispenser
and Duckman kung-fu action figures
with a plier-like grip for that extra inch of pinch.
Barely-tell-they're-leftover Jodie Foster maverickfigures
with glued-on bills.
Duckman,
the public is like a woman.
You make love to her slowly, passion ebbing and cresting,
bringing her to the brink
and then pulling back to prolong the desire.
What planet are you from?
I'm done showered and gone
before the time's up on the magic fingers.
Besides, what could be better than having your face dumped
right into everybody's laps?
First, with those products, then with my TV movie?
Every voter in the country will be watching me.
And that and my sleazy reputation
will make me a shoo-in for the U.S. Senate.
Duckman, if I could...
Eh! Too many words, you lose your turn.
We're too big for that penny-ante detective stuff,
now, Corny, and I do mean "we,"
because you're going with me.
You could be the guy
that goes in to smooth things over
if I say something that offends
any of those overly sensitive special- interest groups.
You know, like those real ugly broads who are always yelling
about equal rights when all they really need
is a little honey (clicks tongue) in their hives?
What did you say?
Nada. Never mind.
It has absolutely nothing to do
with anyone who remotely resembles you.
(sardonic chuckle)
Duckman, think about it.
Is a life built on exploitation
the kind of example you want to set for your family?
Exploitation? I'm a hero, as my movie will prove.
Besides, I've had a talk with my family.
They know it's wrong to capitalize on something
just because it means a few extra bucks.
TV ANNOUNCER: On newsstands now-- Duckman's mom-in-law
and the girls of I.C.U.
(breaking wind)
Doesn't matter.
Don't want to watch those anyway.
Voters want to know about me,
and there's only one movie that can tell them
what really happened out there-- mine!
On USA.
USA? Are they on at night?
Are you kidding?
Dozens of people watch USA,
and they gave me complete creative control,
meaning this movie will be the truth.
I even turned down playing myself,
opting instead for reality
by getting an actual actor to fake being me.
DUCKMAN: Shh! There it is.
ANNOUNCER: Winds, winds, winds and winds will not be seen tonight,
so we may bring you this USA movie event--
Pinch Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me: The Duckman Story.
What is heroism? What is courage?
Now, I don't know if I can define them,
but I do know them when I see them,
and I see them both every time I look in the mirror.
Ooh, Duckman. Ooh, Duckman.
And speaking of seeing them both...
(loud clattering) Shh!
If you'll excuse me, I do believe it's time
to, uh, take out the trash.
(giggling)
(karate yells)
(fists smacking, Ninjas grunting and groaning)
(gasping)
Pesky Ninjas.
Oh, Duckman. Ohh... here.
DUCKMAN: Okay, okay.
So I pushed the envelope a bit.
That's just smart TV.
On the tube, everyone's a little bigger than life.
A little more glamorous.
(belches)
Don't fret, ladies.
That's just Cornfed, my drunken, washed-up partner,
whose worthless carcass I carry through case after case.
Heh, heh... a little buddy comedy banter.
Wanna pass the nachos?
Duckman, there's a woman outside to see you,
and you'll be very proud of me.
I barely vomited on this one at all.
See, another thing about TV...
(spits)
Why don't you two go tie yourselves up
and wait for me on the couch?
Of course. Anything you say, Duckman.
(women giggling)
(gunshot)
I'd like you to solve a case.
Normally, I like a bigger challenge.
Not this one.
He was my father.
Due to the fact that I was once grounded in high school,
a jury of my peers will understand
that I was traumatized and lashing out
and I will be acquitted of any crime.
I'm here for something else.
I'm all ears.
WOMAN: Don't be so modest.
I'm sure you have lots of other interesting extremities.
Easy, my dear.
I don't think we should
extend this conversation any further.
Then we'll take her in for a landing, flyboy,
and I'll restore you to a locked
and fully upright position.
Just make sure it's a smooth entry into the hangar.
That shouldn't be a problem
as long as everything's handled correctly
in the cockpit.
(moaning passionately)
Ooh! Oh...
(moaning and panting)
Is this the part where the oxygen mask drops down?
Be careful, my darling, love is like a gerbil.
It's a lot of fun but leaves pellets everywhere.
You're right. Besides, I didn't just come here
to ride a tongue-powered tilt-a-whirl.
I was on my Stairmaster at the gym,
and I overheard someone's plot to kill the president.
All right, let's go. Oh!
We'll take my Volkswagen Jetta GLX
with dual airbags, anti-lock brakes
and VW's unique traction control.
The German engineered Volkswagen Jetta:
European luxury made affordable.
Dad, that was a blatant plug!
And your point is?
(woman moaning)
Oh, you did it.
You saved the president
and killed those naughty assassins.
It wasn't hard for those of us who know
Jinkatsu, the ancient art of eye-gouging.
By the way, tell the president
he won't look that bad in a patch. (giggling)
CORNFED: Did we really need all that degrading sex
and gratuitous, stomach-churning violence?
DUCKMAN: Hey! USA had certain guidelines.
Duckman...
the blood, the gore,
the ritual execution...
I'm titillated.
(melodramatic music playing)
Oh, Duckman...
Oh, Bernice...
We shouldn't be doing this.
You're my brother.
In-law!
Brother-in-law!
(moaning passionately)
Oh, Duckman... (clattering)
Ducky-duck... Oh...
(clearing desk)
Oh... What the hell are you staring at?
Oh, don't...
Don't stop.
Oh, my God! Don't stop!
Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah. Ducky! Ducky!
Oh! Oh! Ducky!
Ducky!!!
ANNOUNCER: The preceding was a work of fiction
based on real-life, copycat behavior
inspired by a work of fiction.
What an experience.
I think this is something I'll always carry with me.
Not unlike a malignant tumor.
Excuse me, I have to go wash with some lye and a wire brush.
Which one was Marg Helgenberger?
You guys still don't get it, do you?
That movie turned out exactly the way I wanted it to.
That's what John Q. Public wants.
That's what made me famous.
That's what got you a free ride on the Duckman gravy train.
And with exposure like this,
that train's going all the way to the top.
Isn't that right, teacher o' mine?
(retching)
(retching)
(retching)
(retching)
Never mind. I'll ask him when he's finished.
Time to step outside,
get my kudos from the press
and tell them to dust off my seat in the senate.
Hey?!
Where'd everybody go?
(helicopter whirring overhead) Story's over.
We're onto the next one:
Ex-football player castrates child-like singer.
(gate closing)
See you tomorrow, usual time.
That's it?
Just like that?
No fame, no fortune?
No hot-tubbing with Linda Bloodworth-Thomason?
(laughing hysterically)
Actually, we should all feel a little embarrassed.
Dad, my teacher says
that every bad experience teaches us a lesson.
Ajax, your teacher is wrong.
It's had no lesson at all.
It's impossible for any thinking person
to come away with any new insight whatsoever.
I want you to make a detailed
list of everything that happened.
So if this situation ever comes up again,
we can do exactly the same thing we did this time
and keep our fingers crossed that it turns out better.
Who wants cake?
TV REPORTER: Tonight's Duckman told a story
of the commercialization of the news media.
Could it really happen? Find out on the late-night news.
Also, we'll have Gossip with Stacy,
The Dumbest Dog Contest, Cooking with the Pan Man,
Dr. Schnitz with What's in the Stars?
And, time permitting,
a report on the bloody civil war in Africa.
Can't find what you're looking for?
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