Original subtitles

( whistles )

( quacks )

( cawing )

CHARLES: Dad, we're hungry!

MAMBO: And there's nothing to eat around here!

Bah, pipe down! Your Aunt Bernice is gone for one week,

and you kids have done nothing but complain.

"Dad, I smell a gas leak."

"Dad, I need a Heimlich maneuver."

"Dad, I see a strange, knife-wielding man

in a hockey mask outside my bedroom window."

( yelps )

Nothing to eat?

As if the basic food groups

aren't included somewhere in this pile.

Now, let's see. You got your salts, your fats,

your lavenders, your cottage cheese

or possibly a very old lunch meat,

your small flightless bird...

The flavored underwear is mine!

CHARLES: Could you at least cut us down from here?

You know, Dad, Aunt Bernice does return today.

You might want to tidy up a bit.

Ahh! Ha!

Like I'm scared of that iron-pumping, steroid-popping

sideshow-attraction cow!

I'll clean this house up when I'm damn good and ready!

Ahh!

(spits) Starting by giving

this lightbulb a good spit-shine.

( singing off-key ): * O mio babbino caro *

* Mi piace � bello! *

( lightbulb pops )

( grunts )

Any chance that was a death rattle?

Oh, life is just a ceramic container

with non-lead glaze filled with organically grown bing cherries!

( flies buzzing )

( chuckling ): Sushi night.

Duckman, don't worry

your furry little tubular head about the mess.

It's nothing an army of civil engineers, some dynamite

and a little Lemon Pledge can't handle.

( passing gas )

BOTH: There's Grandma-ma!

BERNICE: Duckman, am I to understand

that once again you misplaced Grandma-ma

for the entire weekend?

Certainly not.

I knew she was near the coffee grounds.

Look. What happened was...

You were busy with all your other projects.

I understand perfectly, you incurable worker bee, you.

Bernice, I don't know why this isn't a good thing, but you aren't yourself.

Now, a lesser person might take this opportunity

to trick you into cashing in your Keogh Plan

and handing all the money over to him

so he could spend it in one glorious shopping spree

at Guillermo's Foot Fetish Emporium. ( chuckling )

Huh.

But it's my role as head of the household to feign concern.

Did something happen over the weekend?

Yes! A thousand times yes!

I fell in love!

You remember I won

the Schvitzing to the Oldies contest.

First prize, a trip to the luxurious

Casa del Gordo Health Spa,

where the obscenely wealthy

can lose those pesky love handles

in a setting of starving Third-World types.

I was asked to be a guest aerobics instructor

because of my firm belief

in positive reinforcement techniques.

( upbeat dance music plays )

Uhh.

Aah!

Then I saw him from across the room

and was instantly transformed

into a flirtatious little schoolgirl.

Hey! You in the mortician outfit!

You just going to stand there till your butt's big enough

for a trailer hitch?!

( slurps )

You're a little bunny.

A little bunny?

A little bunny-wunny.

Ittle-wittle, bunny-wunny?

An itsy-bitsy, ittle-wittle

bunny-wunny.

( squeak )

Class dismissed!

( siren wailing )

Although we only knew each other a short time,

we found so much to talk about.

You're a pooky-wooky.

An ittle-wittle, pooky-wooky?

A yummy-scrummy, ittle-wittle pooky-wooky.

On our last day, he told me

he was a self-made billionaire.

Then he asked the question

a woman waits all her life to hear.

How would you like to host your very own infomercial?

( yawning )

Duckman, I feel like a new woman.

Me, too. Unfortunately, I'm about ten bucks short.

( cackling )

You are so cute when you're smarmy and repugnant.

I left some phlegm in your crisper.

Otherwise, an uneventful couple of days.

You need eggs.

Uh, look, Bernice, I hate to prick your balloon.

Duckman, I believe the phrase is "burst your bubble."

I know. I just like to say "prick" whenever I can.

Prick... prick, prick, prick.

Prick, prick, prick, prick, prick.

( to tune of "Camptown Races" ): * Prick, prick, prick, prick, prick *

* Prick, prick, prick, prick *

* Prick, prick, prick, prick, prick *

* Prick, prick, prick, prick... *

* Prick, prick, prick, prick, prick, prick! *

* Prick, prick, prick, prick, prick, prick, prick *

* Prick, prick, prick, prick, prick, prick! *

However, I digress.

I got news for you, Bernice.

Your Prince Charmless is a fraud.

If I had a nickel for every time I tried lathering up a lady

by telling her I was a billionaire, (chuckles)

I'd be a billionaire.

Whoa!

Duckman, you cynical mistrustful,

assume-the-worst- about-everyone wretch.

Don't you think I went through his wallet to get a look at some ID?

The man is Baron von Dillweed.

Never heard of him.

You've never heard of Baron von Dillweed?

The giga-billionaire entrepreneur?

He developed a new home shopping network--

BVD-- where America shops in its underwear.

My boodie-oodie- woodie wants me

to help sell his new piece of marketing genius--

the world's most portable exercise system.

He calls it the rubbercizer.

He can call it Aunt Jemima for all I care.

It doesn't make it a fat black woman

with a bandanna on her head.

It's a rubber band, Bernice! What's next?

You going to tell me it comes with an instruction manual?

( chuckling )

Wahhoa!

Yes.

( glass clinking )

Dad, are you okay?

Fine.

All the pointy little shards of glass broke my fall.

Ajax! Oh, what have I told you

about sleeping with Mr. Orange Rind?

Were you okay while I was gone?

Splendid, Aunt Bernice.

I subsisted quite nicely on the bean soup you left

in that large tureen in the room with the sink and the shower.

That's the bathroom, dear.

Oh.

I couldn't help but overhear

that you met Baron von Dillweed,

the visionary who gave us Liver-Upper--

the easy-to-use home insertion device

for that bothersome hepatitis "B".

The man's a deep well of ideas.

Just last week,

I started wearing

this skin-tight, inflatable neck brace

I ordered from his network.

Ajax, those have all been recalled.

They squeeze the carotid artery

and restrict blood flow to the occipital lobe.

Have you been noticing any unusual side effects?

But not so much anymore.

Well, I bid you adieu now.

If anyone needs me, I'll be...

surprised.

Careful with that. You could put someone's eye out.

Wow! What page of the instruction manual is that on?

I didn't want to break this

to the boys right away, Duckman,

but since I care much less for your feelings,

this isn't just an infomercial

for the rubbercizer I'm hosting,

it's the world's first info-wedding,

and guess who's the bride?

This Saturday,

Baron von Dillweed and I are getting married!

Bernice, why would anyone want to marry a virtual stranger

and leave the family she's come...

Be right back.

Hate to see you go, Bernice.

I'm puddling up just thinking about it,

but, hey, toss a wedding invite this way.

I promise not to rolf up tequila shots

in the punch bowl like I did at my wedding.

( howling laugh )

You're so cute

when you're hateful, two-faced and self-involved.

And I haven't even told you the best part yet.

Grandma-ma and I are moving with Dilly

to his home in Switzerland,

and we're taking the boys with us!

Where was I?

Oh, right, yeah. Losing my kids.

Bernice, I can't believe you're trying to give my boys

to some loser with a bloated bankroll

who owns some network nobody cares about.

TV ANNOUNCER: Stop the inanity!

Call now, and we'll sell you something for $10.

( gasps )

I got ten bucks! Get me a phone!

The resurgence of theater

is just a pipe dream, isn't it?

( grunts ) Excuse me.

This is a private matter

between a man and his bidet.

Fine. So a few other people have heard of him.

That doesn't make him good enough

to be a father to my children.

I hope you don't mind a bit of constructive criticism, Duckman,

but those kids will be better off

with a pack of rabid baboons than with you.

We proved that wasn't true, Bernice,

even if Ajax does still get a Valentine

from the dominant female every year.

Okay, then. What grade are the twins in?

Uh... by twins you mean the ones who look alike?

What color is Ajax's hair?

What? You're putting a time limit on it, too?

How about their dog? When was Gecko's last rabies shot?

Ha! It was right after the last time

Charles and Mckimbo bit her.

Their names are Charles and Mambo, Duckman,

and Gecko is a him.

Not since he peed in my slippers this morning.

Maybe you and Dilly should meet and talk about this,

not that it'll matter.

My ootsie-wootsie-tootsie wants those boys,

and he does tend to get what he wants.

DILLWEED: Tell him if he tries to leave,

my foot soldiers will march up and down the boulevard

until he's weeded out and destroyed!

Father knows what it cost me to get him in that nursing home!

( slamming phone )

Minty treat?

Someone from an extremely distant tax bracket

to see you, sir. ( grunts )

Call when you finish.

I'll frisk you and show you to the door.

So, you must be...

Duckman.

Duckman.

Yes, I suppose you'd know.

Ah, my 2:20.

Ten minutes to talk about

where your children will spend the rest of their lives.

Bernice speaks very highly of you.

Really? No. That was an empty pleasantry.

Why don't we use eight of your minutes to look around my office.

This, of course, is my legacy.

I employ the best and the brightest

to work day and night

in my quest to tie in to the national consciousness.

Scientists, researchers, computer geniuses.

You do understand what this means?

Some of the great minds of our time

are spending their lives making it easier for people to shop?

Well... yes, and more.

You're looking at the future.

Soon we'll be able to do everything

from the comfort of our sofas,

avoiding the unnecessary bother

of dealing with other people.

Ah, save it for your shrink, Mr. Rubber Band Man.

I'm here to talk about the future of my kids.

No way you're going to Switzerland with those boys.

I absolutely refuse to let you turn them

into a bunch of cheese-eating, cocoa-guzzling yodelers.

They'll have nice watches.

Hmm, well, that is nice.

And you say everyone in the family would get one?

I have no interest in taking your children per se.

My only desire is to give Bernice

whatever she wants.

Starting with those cajones, huh?

( glass shatters )

( man yelling, rumbling crash )

Fore. ( chuckling )

You have to applaud the man

that came up with this whole insurance concept.

Believe me, those children will have everything

a child of their generation could ever need--

the finest therapists, parole officers

and rehab centers money can buy.

Money! Money! Money!

Is that what it's all about?

The real question is:

What are you planning to do with all your money?

Make more money.

And with that money?

Make more money.

And with that money?!

Make more money.

God, I thought I could trip him up

on a less-than-noble life's ambition.

You don't even know my boys.

How do you know they'd even be interested

in living a life like yours in a house like this?

Actually, this is my car.

( car engine starts )

Well, guzzles gas,

but I only have to change the decor every 12,000 miles.

Got its own air bag, too.

Pardon me?

What? Oh, I, uh... I said,

"What's that there, Ra... Rag�?"

Phew! Good save.

Look, Dillweed, you think basking in unbridled luxury

with all life's advantages

is really what's best for the children?

Ha, ha! Hee-hmm.

Oh... well, never mind.

The point is, we should leave it up to the boys

to decide who they want to live with--

a complete stranger

or the father who brought them life?

Hey, kids!

Picked you up a little something on the way home.

( gagging )

Say, kids, picked you up a little something on the way home.

All right!

Oh, yeah!

Next week I'll get you a championship franchise.

* Skip to my Lou, skip to my Lou *

* Skip to my Lou, my darling. *

( automatic weapon firing )

Eat my jet spray, peasants.

What's this do? ( beep )

Boys, remember our little chat

about knocking limbs off national monuments?

Bernice, they're only kids once.

Oh...

What the hell are you staring at?!

We heard about Bernice's wedding, Mr. Duckman.

And we'd love to help out any way we can.

Good. You can be the rice.

Mr. Duck...!

( whirring )

Hee-hee, hee-hee-hee! Newt.

I'm desperate, Corny.

Corny, Bernice is marrying that billionaire in two days,

and they're determined to take the kids

to live with them in Switzerland.

What would you do?

Apply all my powers of concentration

and put forth a heroic and single-minded effort

to find statutory and/or emotional grounds

to get them to stay.

If you were me?

Oh.

Buy them snow shoes and kiss them good-bye.

There you are, Duckman!

You caught me at a bad time, Bernice.

I'm here.

( cackling ) You are so cute

when you're being a social lubricant.

I just came by to tell you

that this competition between you and Dilly

is totally unnecessary. It is?!

I knew you'd come to your senses.

I knew you wouldn't break the bond

between a father and his children.

I didn't have to.

Dilly's lawyers are going to do it for me.

They found a minor piece of boiler plate

in Beatrice's will.

Oh, fellas!

( glass shattering )

These gentlemen are from

the firm of Dahmer, Manson, Gacey and Bbundy.

Set the electron probate microscope to "loophole."

Well, now that that's all cleared up,

we'll see you at the wedding Saturday?

Go to your wedding?

I'd rather get a high colonic with a hot poker.

Okay, but if you have time after, be sure to pop by.

Oh, Cornfed, since you're like one of the family,

Dilly and I were wondering

if you'd do a few hours of karaoke at our reception.

What are you trying to do, Bernice?

First you come between me and my children.

Now me and my partner?

Cornfed and I are inseparable.

We're a team like Astaire and Rogers...

Lewis and Clark... Norman Bates.

Anyway, we have a bond that can never be broken.

Isn't that right, partner?

Huh?

I was thinking my tribute to Liza.

If you're not committed to karaoke,

I do a Jello Biafra meets Lerner and Loewe kind of thing.

NARRATOR: And so, needing to uncover

something unsavory about Dillweed

in order to hold on to his children,

Duckman rededicated himself to becoming a good detective

by going back to his detective school roots.

His investigation left no stone unturned...

( man screams, body thuds )

...along the way uncovering something

called the Ark of the Covenant... Ahh!

...someone called the Lindbergh baby...

...and the secret ingredients to Spam.

Ooh!

But as for Dillweed,

nothing incriminating could be found.

The only mistake Duckman could turn up

was an attempted hostile takeover of Popeye's.

Dillweed thought he was getting a chicken franchise

when, in fact it was a glass eye factory,

and he ended up with millions of glass eyeballs

he couldn't give away.

( yelling )

( dramatic music plays on TV )

Welcome back to the world's first infomercial wedding.

Now, Lori, do I understand

from our unrehearsed girlfriend chat

that you use the rubbercizer, too?

I've tried everything from purging to tapeworms,

and the rubbercizer not only worked better;

it added gorgeous highlights to my hair.

Dionne?

Well, Bernice, it cured my piles.

I'd love to stay and continue

this spontaneous discussion with my close, personal friends,

but it's almost time for wedded bliss.

ANNOUNCER Stop the inanity and call now

for the amazing new rubbercizer.

MAN: Must have to wrap it pretty tight

to make it an effective birth control.

Plus, you could put someone's eye out.

That's it.

It's over.

I'll never see my kids again.

Wait a minute!

Never see again?

Put someone's eye out?

That's it. That's why he's doing it!

But how? What are my clues?

There must be something

from detective school that can help me.

Maybe something my professor said.

Duckman, are you doing one of those word scrambles

instead of studying again?

( groans )

Word scramble?

I got it!

* Now that Mackie's... *

* Back in town *

* Look out, Old Mackie is back. *

Thank you very much. ( applause )

Dearly beloved, we gather today

in the sight of our target audience--

skewed 28 to 45 with double fixed income--

to join these two in holy matrimony.

Do you, Bernice, take this charismatic

and recently featured on the cover

of People magazine billionaire

to be your lawfully wedded husband?

We'll find out if she does

in a moment, but first,

wedding gifts are still available

on your Touch-Tone phones.

Operators are standing by

and remember, with BVD, a personal relationship

with the bride and groom is no longer a necessity.

And now, the sacred moment.

Forget the inanity!

Stop the wedding!

Duckman! Duckman!

You've been hornswoggled,

bamboozled, jollyknockered.

Cheated, okay? AUDIENCE: Oh. Okay.

Dillweed's cheating you

by getting you to buy a dangerous $10 rubber band,

and why, you ask.

What possible motive could he have?

The same motive everyone has in the end--

a dire need to create a desperate, one-eyed society

in order to peddle a warehouse full of surplus eyeballs.

That again?

This is preposterous!

I'll pay someone to badly hurt this man.

( guns cocking ) Wait! He's been doing it all

with the products on this network

through the evil of subliminal advertising.

It's his slogan!

When you rearrange the letters,

look what it spells.

( audience gasping )

And that's not all.

Stop the inanity also spells

"It ain't honest."

Uh, what do you do

with the "Y" and the "P"? ( gulps )

And there's more.

If you rearrange the letters in Baron von Dillweed,

you'll find it spells

"Roov Nand Illweeb."

Okay, they're starting to lose their punch,

but the fact remains

that he doesn't care about you.

He only cares about creating

a completely impersonal and technology-driven world

where people don't need people,

and people who don't need people are the...

Aah!!!

One thing I haven't figured out, Dillweed.

If you care so little

about people DILLWEED: Ow!

and relationships, why work so hard

to get a wife and kids?

Money, you ignorant strip of dental floss!

My accountant told me the image of husband and father

would make me more palatable to my shareholders.

What? You told me you were marrying me

because I reminded you of your mother!

That, and the way I split coconuts with my thighs.

Ah! My eye.

You put my eye out with that!

Think of it as one less glass eye you have to unload.

MAMBO: All right, Dad!

We were hoping

you'd find a way to rescue us.

Yeah. You were always our favorite.

We never planned on going with him anyway.

( chuckling nervously )

You know how it is. Some days you wake up feeling neutral,

and you want to make a statement.

Congratulations, Duckman.

You dug deep down inside

and in order to keep your children,

became the detective

you've always dreamed of becoming.

In fact, it reminds me

of something I like to call "My way".

Hit it, Nelson.

( music begins )

( music stops )

Thank you, Duckman.

And thank you for saving me from a terrible fate.

Can you imagine what would have happened

if I found out about this after we were married?

I would have been trapped in a loveless marriage,

legally bonded to a devious criminal...

who I could have divorced

and soaked for half

his multi-billion dollar fortune!

Aah!!!

When does Aunt Bernice throw the bouquet?

Duckman!

Duckman!!

I asked the front desk for something quiet in back.

Oh, well, as long as I know

the people who can make a difference

haven't forgotten me, I'll sleep well.

( contented grunting and sighing )

( wind whistling )