Original subtitles

(whistles)

Where did that sleaze-magnet Duckman go?

(woman screaming)

Wild guess.

Uh-oh. Looks like it's time

to test my new designer mace--

Blindness by Calvin Klein.

Oh, baby, feels so good!

Pass the butter.

(screaming)

Another new product to try.

Ooh!

It's like falling in love all over again.

Duckman, we're supposed to be shopping

for Grandma-ma's surprise birthday party,

not getting a prostate massage in front of half the county.

Now, where's the five dollars

you owe for her gift?

You never have any money to contribute, Duckweed.

You're not only a disgrace to the family name

you're a disgrace to detectives.

You're not a sleuth, you're a sloth.

(laughing)

You see, Ajax,

"sleuth" sounds just like "sloth" except for the...

Oh, just laugh.

We're belittling your father.

(braying laugh)

I'll ignore these hateful remarks

from all of you formerly-in-my-will ingrates

and simply prove my investigative ingenuity.

Ha!

See that guy over there? Oldest scam in the world.

He's merely pretending to be blind,

so he can bleed a couple of pennies

out of you gullible Brooklyn Bridge-buying types.

Work up an appetite.

When he flinches,

you'll be eating some major crow.

My spine!

Oh, my apologies.

It was all my fault.

Oh, my, what have we here?

The old fake-priest-collar slash pickpocket scam.

Give me my wallet back

or you'll be needing last rites.

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

Oh really? Then how do you explain...

this?!

You were going to stab me with this, weren't you,

you magnificent bastard?

I'll pray for your soul!

What next, Dad?

Bust the pontiff for prostitution?

(laughing)

Boy, it's such a shame

Grandma-ma's missing an opportunity

to see you humiliated...

Duckman, where is Grandma-ma?

You left her in the car again, didn't you,

you bespectacled toilet brush?

Remember the last time you did that,

she was frozen in the icy tundra,

almost burned in an African village,

then buried alive!

Sure, but when else does she get to travel?

There's nothing to worry about, Bernice.

Last time I saw Grandma-ma,

she was sitting in the car,

quietly enjoying her nice decade-long nap.

(gunshots)

I don't want to die!

(evil laughter)

Now listen, and listen good, you fancy smelling dandy.

Place the ice inside the bag and nobody catches any lead.

And you, give me that gold tooth.

(laughing)

Anyone else want to be a hero?

Why, I ought to ventilate the lot of you.

Who here wants to get sized for pine pajamas?

What?

Take a dirt nap?

Huh?

Die!

(screams)

There's no love of language anymore.

(alarm blaring)

Oh, for the love of...

(clicking)

No way I'm sailing back up the river.

(siren wailing)

There's got to be some way out of here.

(sniffing)

Blech!

Mother of mercy!

You're the spitting image of me.

Hmm, no wonder my four husbands left me.

No, wait. It was because I killed them.

(laughing)

All right, little sister, out of the car.

I said

out of the...

Wait a second.

You're... you're...

dead.

(breaks wind) (screams)

Okay, okay, so you're just vegged out.

Still I ain't taking no chances.

(thuds)

There, that did it.

Grandma-ma better be all right, Duckman, or I'll...

Put your panic on pause, Bernice.

There's our car with the birthday girl right...

Oh, no!

I can't believe it!

Somebody peeled off

my "I break for aureoles" bumper sticker.

Grandma-ma, oh, thank heavens you're okay.

Grandma-ma, you're not a sleuth,

you're a sloth.

(braying laugh)

Hmm...

Timing would appear to be everything.

What was all the hoopla about?

I told you she was safe and soundless.

It's just that we don't want anything

to happen to her.

Grandma-ma's the nicest, sweetest, gentlest lady

in the whole wide world.

(grunting)

(grunting)

ALL: Surprise!

Happy Birthday, Grandma-ma.

Folks, how about a helping hand

in blowing out the candles?

(breaking wind)

(all cheering)

(breaking wind)

(shouting): The candles are already out, Mr. Kohler.

Come on, you bunch of stiffs!

Let's party-hearty!

Care to cut a little rug, Grandma-ma...

ma-ma?

Flashdance!

BERNICE: Duckman!

Now, now, Bernice, no cutting in.

I'm going to kill him!

(crashing)

Nice dismount.

Sweet Jesus.

This flophouse is loony.

Knuckles, it's me, Agnes.

I miss you, too, but shut your damn pie hole and listen.

I'm hiding out at some freak show.

You got to spring me tonight!

What? What channel?

Ah, cripes.

A statewide manhunt

is currently in progress

for mass murdering madwoman Agnes Delrooney.

She is believed to be heavy and armed.

Heavily armed!

There's no accuracy in the media.

None!

Ugh!

I guess I better lay low here till things cool off.

Much as I hate to say it,

this dump's my safe haven right now.

Don't worry. These saps won't suspect a thing.

(maniacal laugh)

Stop fighting me, Grandma-ma.

You're clenching.

That's odd.

She won't swallow her creamed lentils tonight.

Okay, Grandma-ma, I guess it's time for pokey.

Yeah.

Hmm... I can't seem to find her good vein.

I see one.

At least you didn't stab her in the forehead again.

Oh, well. Whose turn to do the dishes?

ALL: Last one at the table! Ha, ha, ha!

(screaming)

Duckman!

Bernini will never look for me here.

What the...? Bernice, come see Grandma-ma!

What?

What is it?

Grandma-ma-- she's not comatose at all.

She was scarfing down a pork chop.

Duckman, have you been giving your lithium

to Ajax again?

But she was eating, I swear.

Oh, whatever you say, Duckman.

Maybe it's time for some dishwashing therapy.

And remember, "spit shine"

is just an expression.

There's something different about you, Grandma-ma.

Something very odd.

Something very strange.

Dad, will you leave Grandma-ma alone?

You've been poking her and prodding her

for three days now.

Poking and prodding is what a dick does.

(chuckles)

They just write themselves.

To further prove to all of you my deductive abilities,

I'm assembling evidence--

or as we in the industry call them, uh...

"Clues."

Good. You were listening.

Submitted for your approval,

exhibit "D-4": Grandma-ma hasn't cut the Cheez Whiz

once in the last three days.

The air's so clear in here,

we can actually see the other side of the room.

I didn't know we had a piano.

Maybe something is wrong.

(squeaking)

(all cheering)

Nice try, dumb-shoe,

and for your next case,

you'll be trying to find your missing brain.

(all three laughing)

This case is not closed.

Come on, boys.

It's time to give Grandma-ma her sea kelp and gravel enema.

(laughing)

Knuckles...

this place is worse than the hole at Rikers.

These loons give me one more boil lancing,

bone marrow transplant or subcranial bore,

I'll plug the bunch of them.

All right. A few more days.

The old bag I replaced?

Don't sweat it.

I took care of her all right.

(breaking wind)

Let them laugh.

But I say there's more to Grandma-ma

than meets the private eye.

It's been so long since we made the sheets sing--

you straddling me, me strangling you...

Yeah-ha! Caught you!

Nice try, Grandma-ma,

but I'm cutting in on your little dance of deceit.

You see, I've deduced you're not really comatose at all.

You've simply been faking it all these years

as a means of gaining attention.

And while I'll miss those really good parking spaces I get

from lugging your heinous heinie around,

I cannot allow this charade to continue.

Reveal thyself, Grandma-ma.

Tickle, tickle, tickle.

Tickle, tickle, tickle.

Tic...

You don't know

who you're messing with, Duckman.

Whoo-ahh, whoo-ahh, whoo...

Ahh!

(screaming)

I ain't no Grandma-ma.

I'm Agnes Delrooney, insane killer by day,

psychotic murderer by night.

I've swallowed tougher guys than you for breakfast

and passed them by lunch.

(muffled): I knew it. I'm telling Bernice.

Look at me. I'm shaking.

News flash, Kilroy.

Your family thinks you're a joke.

They wouldn't believe you in a million years.

Go ahead! Call Bernice!

I dares you.

I double dares you.

Bernice!

Bernice!

What is it, Duckman?

It's G-G-G-G...

(stuttering): Grandma-ma.

Actually, it's not Grandma-ma.

It's Agnes-- that's her real name.

She's an impostor.

We got to throw her in jail and find the real Grandma-ma.

Or maybe we can skip the part

about finding the real Grandma-ma

and just throw this one in jail.

You woke me up in the middle of the night

for one of your psychobabbles?!

Look, Dinkerton, I need my sleep!

I have a very important

"Women Against Potholes" meeting in the morning.

At least you didn't wake Grandma-ma up.

I don't think.

Wait! You got to believe me!

Agnes walks and talks and slaps.

Man, can she slap.

Look at these welts.

She was just slapping me like-like this.

Ow! See, it hurts.

(maniacal laugh)

See, just like I predicted.

Ow!

Playing head games with you

sure works up a thirst.

Fix me a highball.

N-n-n-no.

Listen, half-pint, fix me a drink

or I'll waste you and your whole idiotic,

freaked-out, lousy-smelling family.

That's it.

Nobody calls me half-pint.

BERNICE: Duckman, I told you, I have to get some sleep.

Uh-oh. You're in big trouble now.

(gasps)

(screams)

That's it!

Ow!

This is for strangling my poor comatose mother...

and this is for smoking

in the house!

I wasn't smoking.

It was Agnes.

My mother's name is not Agnes

and she's never smoked a day in her life.

(moans)

(grunting)

Thank you, Grandma-ma.

What?!

(maniacal laugh)

You-you-you're... not... Grandma-ma.

You jerk, why didn't you say something?

What's all the noise?

(both gasp)

Grandma-ma, you're mobile.

We have so much lost time to make up.

Want to play hacky sack?

Whoa!

Uh, perhaps we should review the rules.

(panting): * Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah... *

* Strummin' on the old banjo *

* Fee, fi, fiddle-ee-i-o *

* Fee, fi, fiddle-ee-i... * I can't take it anymore.

I don't remember saying "stop."

What have you done with the real Grandma-ma?

If you harm one hair on her back, I'll...

Quit yer bellyachin', freak show.

Old Smelly Winters is down in the root cellar.

Get her if you want.

(shrieks)

Grandma-ma.

It looks like she hasn't eaten anything for days.

Here, Grandma-ma, have this cracker.

(breaks wind)

Listen, pantywaist, I don't want you

doing anything suspicious.

I want you carrying on

with your normal daily routine.

First, you go to work.

Wait! Which is it?

Normal daily routine, or go to work?

You're going to work and acting as normal-like as possible.

Tip off the cops or anybody else and I'll use

your family's kidneys as tea bags.

(laughing)

Good heavens, our lives depend on...

Duckman!!

(wailing)

Must save family.

Act normal,

like any other day.

(screaming)

So far, so good.

Cornbread, did you take a bath?

Why, is there one missing?

I ought to kick your butt.

(door opens and closes)

So...

Hi, Duckman.

Wrong?

Who said anything was wrong? Everything's fine.

Certainly everything at home is fine.

What a strange question to ask.

What would possibly make you think something was wrong?

What got into me?

Although, you have been here two seconds and haven't yet perused

today's adult entertainment industry trades.

Oh, yeah.

Hmm. Breasts, genitals, tongue.

I'm really aroused now.

(yawning): Well, Corny, I think

I'll kick off for the day.

Just mosey on home for no other reason

than I live there, of course.

What has that she-beast done?

I didn't give her permission

to use my custom-made, non-marking, bondage ropes.

If I see her, I'll...

(screams)

Please don't beat me anymore.

I'm running out of blood.

Whiles you was gone, I started thinking.

You know what I haven't had for all these long years?

Talcum powder?

Free checking?

A man.

Bet you'd look purty in silk.

Fascinating non sequitur.

Sure, I may be a psychotic killing machine,

but I'm still a woman.

Take me to your bed

or your family's as dead as a herring.

(nervous chuckle)

My options, one more time?

Don't worry,

you'll thank me when I'm done.

Some torch songs might help set the mood for us.

Bolero, Best of Bolero,

Bolero Beach Party,

Chipmunks Sing Bolero.

Uh...

Th-th-that one's very rare.

Now it's even rarer.

But enough foreplay.

Okay... okay...

just let me stretch a bit.

Nothing worse than a groin pull.

Right?

(humming)

Not bad.

(helicopter hovering)

Agnes Delrooney, the house is surrounded.

Come out with your hands up.

Cavalry, thy name is Cornfed.

Come and get her, she's right...

here?

All right, don't move an in...

Uh-huh. So it's up to Duckman

to figure out which of you is the dreaded Agnes.

(muffled shouting)

Oh, sure, I could just take off your gags

and have you tell me which is which,

but what better opportunity to prove to you, once and for all,

that, as a detective, I am without peer?

Also, I get a chance to exploit a dramatic clich�.

(breaks wind)

(breaks wind)

Oh, impressive.

One of you is the Fred Travalena of flatulence.

(breaking wind rhythmically)

Ah! Entertaining and informative.

For only in... yours

did I hear a true "F" flat in the first movement,

a note only Grandma-ma has perfected.

Therefore, you are Agnes Delrooney.

Take that...

Teach you to...

(gun cocking)

Oops. Sorry, Grandma-ma,

but you needed the exercise.

(sirens wailing)

(guns cocking)

If they're shipping me back to the big house,

it might as well be for something good.

(breaks wind loudly)

Good night, nurse.

From the inflection in your voice this morning,

I deduced that you and your family were being held hostage

by a Grandma-ma look-alike.

Although this may prevent us

from running for office someday, Dad...

We owe you an apology.

I don't know what's worse, Duckman,

being held captive by a gun-toting madwoman

or admitting you saw through her facade.

I guess you do have some detective ssss-skkkk...

Ah, don't hurt yourself, Bernice.

I have the rest of my life to rub it in your face.

The important thing right now is we're all safe and secure.

Basking in the effervescence that is Grandma-ma.

(cheering)

The real Grandma-ma was sentenced

to three consecutive life terms

of hard labor in a federal penitentiary

and is eligible for parole in the year 2156.

Agnes Delrooney

continues to live with the Duckman family.

As of this broadcast,

she and Duckman have not consummated their relationship.

DUCKMAN: Breasts, genitals, tongue.

AGNES: Quit your bellyachin'.