Original subtitles

(duck quacks)

(horns honking)

(sirens wailing)

Hmm.

Ouch!

Hey, it's a hospital zone.

Keep it down.

(crashing)

Uh, hello? Do any of you thermometer jockeys care

that these people are suffering?

(gasps) Sir, I'm the head nurse.

Well, that's incredibly obliging of you

but I got to take a rain check

'cause I'm running a little late.

There's a motion a-picture a-crew doing

some location-type stuff in your little chop shop

and they're waiting for you-know-who

to make his film debut.

Well, unless you count the little thing I did

with the zebra in the fishnet stockings

but it was spring break and I was drunk.

I'm sure you know how it is.

Well, enough yammering, Lucretia, wrangle my ride, will ya?

M.R.I.?

It sounds so scary.

I'm frightened and disoriented.

How you doing?

Why, it's legendary guitarist Joe Walsh.

Relax, Molly.

We're gonna teach you all about M.R.I.

"We"?

Me and a friend of mine.

* La-la-la, la-la-la-la, la-la-la. *

Hi, Joe. Hi, Molly.

I'm Lobie, the M.R.I. pixie.

You know, magnetic resonance imaging sounds scary

but it's easy!

You just climb into a massive metal cylinder

and your skull is bombarded with magnetic impulses,

causing every atom in your brain to shudder violently.

Whee!

* La-la-la, la-la-la-la, la-la. *

(crashing)

Nice planning, sticking a light right where I'm walking.

Cut! Cut!

Who are you? Duckman.

Your eagle-eyed assistant spotted me at the movies

the other night and cast me.

There, that's her. Ask her.

Weren't you... taller?

Ow.

Hey, watch it.

Ixnay.

(Swedish accent): Just one a-ticket, please

for I'm only one person, not two.

Whoa!

(chuckles)

Optical illusion probably, all the fluorescent lights.

Phil, I don't get it.

I had him playing Freakishly Tall

Bad Accent Man Number Two.

(whistling)

So, uh, what kind of pic we lensing here?

Action? Action-thriller?

Buddy-action-comedy- action-thriller?

Those studios make so many different kinds.

This isn't a feature film.

Ha! I knew something was fishy

when I didn't see Gene Hackman or Tommy Lee Jones.

What is this, a snuff film?

We're making a teaching video

for patients of Medtechumana Hospitals,

and we won't be needing you.

Thanks, honey,

but I'll wait until I hear that

from, you know, a man.

Actually, it might bring the shot to life

if we had a guy in the M.R.I.

And he's perfect--

moronic features, jaundiced pallor, glassy stare.

I also drool.

You're M.R.I. Guy. Get in.

Joe Walsh! You're in this?

Actually, I do a lot of medical videos.

It's fun, interesting,

and they pump my stomach for free.

DIRECTOR: Duck... in... now.

Okay, everybody, let's make this one for the shelf.

Give the stick hicks a pix to nix.

For all the little people out there in the dark.

Ah, there's nothing as exciting as being on a movie set.

(snoring)

(echoing): I'm frightened and disoriented.

* La-la-la, la-la-la-la, la-la-la. *

You're M.R.I. Guy.

Disoriented.

...or as we like to say, Mriaok.

DIRECTOR: Uh, Joe, that's M.R.I. A-okay.

Hey, what the..?

Get out of my lab. We're in the middle of shooting.

The only thing you're shooting is your mouth off.

Now, I want you and your merry band to vamoose

or I'll insert this catalog in your rectoid mucosa

and you'll find out why they call it the sharper image.

Now scram!

Man, you've got a lot of rage.

Get a haircut, Ringo.

Hello. Hector?

Oh, you heard.

Well, I don't care how important

these videos are to Medtechumana.

My research is more important.

(panting)

Great scott!

I'll call you later.

(muttering)

Once again, Hollywood articulates itself.

(groaning)

(screaming)

(beeping)

(gasping)

Eureka! Eureka!

Eureka, there was a duck.

He left here a few minutes ago.

Find him.

I don't believe what's in his brain!

(panting)

What... what the hell are you staring at?

Got enough tapioca there, Dad?

If you're still hungry,

I think some dripped behind the stove.

(laughing)

Stoves are funny.

AJAX: Hey, everyone.

Remember last week when the criminal look-alike

took Grandma-ma's place until the police presumably put

the right one in prison

and returned the real Grandma-ma?

(evil laughter)

for no discernible reason whatsoever

it was then that I realized how lonely old people are.

So I had a gnarlatious idea:

Give cats who need love to old people

who... uh... need... um... old...

What's on TV?

Getting back to your idea, dear,

where will you get the cats?

Streets, alleys, county vans.

(snarling)

(chuckles nervously)

(snarling and hissing)

Grandma-ma, meet Meroke.

(snarling)

Ah, that's sweet, Ajax.

There's nothing like a companion.

(snarling and hissing)

(gasping)

Sorry to break into your outhouse...

Oh, my God! You live here!

Who are you, and what gives you

the right to barge into people's homes?!

I'm Dr. Craig Ehrlich.

Oh.

Well, do sit down.

Take off those shoes.

Perhaps a quick foot massage

and a dozen or so years of wedded bliss.

What? Am I the only one who heard the word "doctor"?

Dr. Ehrlich, eh?

Are you related to Dr. Dre?

When you were born

were there any problems with the umbilical cord?

No. Though lately, I've found it

to be a bit of an inconvenience.

(gasping)

DUCKMAN: Where will you get the cats?

There you are, Duckman.

You shouldn't have run out, you naughty little scalawag.

(laughing)

Grab him!

Wendy, Tink, we're flying.

Doctor, not to be nosy

but why are you kidnapping our dad?

Boys, I don't care enough about what you think of me

to lie to you.

I've spent my career in search of an end

to the worst blight in human history.

Not him.

I'm talking about cancer!

And we're about to make medical history,

for I, Dr. Craig Ehrlich,

have finally found the cure for it

here in Duckman's brain.

(all gasping)

(cat snarling)

You've got mail.

Well, I'd like to thank the Duckman family

for another lovely afternoon.

Good news: you all test negative.

I'm sorry about this, but I had to see

if any of you carry the same isotope Duckman does.

It can be passed genetically

or through sharing a living environment.

Why me?

I'm not his family; I don't live with him.

I'm just his friend.

And you wonder why your head's being examined?

Enough said.

Doctor, how can Dad's brain

be a medical miracle?

It barely makes it as a brain.

Ooh! Look, two at once.

Someone must have left the M.R.I. on.

It hit Duckman with enough impulses

to kill a T rex in a lead helmet.

Then why isn't he dead?

Not that, you know, that would be a thing I'd wish for

or was even for one second secretly imagining.

(screeching)

Hey!

Great scott!

What the...? Where am I?

I'm strapped down, receiving gut-twisting electric shocks

but my usual boy, Randy, is nowhere in sight.

Duckman, we've been kidnapped and are being held prisoner.

You know, for a detective with no cases,

I sure get kidnapped a lot.

Duckman, you and I are going to make the greatest advance

in medical science since penicillin.

Yeah, that was good. Huh?

Here, between the cerebrum and the cerebellum

in the antebellum-- see this scarlet lump?

That's a new form of sub-cortical astrocytoma

full of the anti-cancer isotope.

The growth was there for years until the M.R.I. mutated it.

Wow! You mean I can cure cancer?

Okay, doc of the bay, let's do some good--

glom some globulin, cure a little cancer.

I'll get back to whatever it is I do

and I'll see you in Stockholm.

Do they have a Hooters there?

Duckman, you don't understand.

The only way to get to the isotope is to operate.

I'm talking about a medical procedure

that will leave your brain inoperable.

Oh. Will I have a scar?

Chicks dig scars.

No, no, you moron.

I have to cut off your head!

No, none of it

will leave a scar.

CORNFED: Doctor, let me.

Duckman, to get the isotope, he'd have to kill you.

Oh, why didn't he say s...?

Hey, just a minute!

Duckman, don't you see?

This is your chance at immortality.

Call me a stickler

but figure I have a better shot at immortality

if you don't kill me!

I don't like when people suffer

but I like it even less when I suffer.

In this life, doc, you got to look out for number one,

but, uh, in this case, you should actually look out for me

so I'm like number two.

Well, we all agree on that.

I know how you feel, Duckman, but a wise man once said

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few."

Hey! That wise man was Mr. Spock

and the only reason he felt that way was because he knew

they'd send his body to the Genesis Planet

so he could come back to life.

Actually, he thought they were gonna bring him

to Vulcan to be reborn.

Yeah, the Genesis Planet was just a happy accident.

You know, all Picard has to do is send Kirk's body

to the Genesis Planet then he can come back to life.

But the nexus destroyed Kirk's body.

Hey, what if they did that slingshot- around-the-sun thing,

went back in time a couple of days

and beamed Kirk and Picard some big guns

to kill Malcolm McDowell with?

Oh, he was so good in Time After Time.

What about Clockwork Orange?

That was awesome.

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

Oh, no. The M.R.I. must have been on too long last night.

It's overheating, creating an intense magnetic field.

Let's go! Follow me!

Hello.

Security?

Apparently, we were spared

because none of us are wearing any metal.

Wow. Good thing I didn't wear

my "Official G-spot Checker" medallion.

(chuckles) Always gets a laugh.

Look, I know you want to protect me,

but it's not you he's after, so no argument,

I want you all to get out of here and not worry about...

Huh?

Me.

(elevator bell dings)

There he is.

(screams)

Hi-yah!

(screams)

Ooh! Ah! Ooh! Ah!

That tickles.

Hey! Stop! Ooh!

Are you guys I.R.S.? The mafia?

Oh, no! You're not... Ticketmaster?!

Dah!

Hmm.

Wa-hoo!

(gasps)

Hey, how dare you barge into my office.

It's my office, Duckman.

I had you brought here so we could talk.

Well, you saved my life.

There was this daffy doc,

and he was going to give me an operation that'd kill me.

Can you imagine?

No. I'd prefer to kill you with a great deal more pain.

(gasps)

I'm going to call our congressman

and get that S.O.B. to rouse the F.D.A,

H.E.W., D.O.J., and every other V.I.P. in D.C. ASAP.

WOMAN: Thank you for calling the United States of America.

We are open from 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. weekdays

and are located between Canada and Mexico

in the western hemisphere.

If you would like to make a declaration of war, press one.

Trade treaties and tariffs, press two.

Gerbils.

Nature's perfect machines.

Yeah, they're the best. Listen, I was distracted

by the gun and my bladder emptying and all.

Did you say you were going to kill me?

Slowly and sadistically.

I get intense pleasure from inflicting suffering

and misery on others.

I'm one of Alphonse d'Amato's largest contributors.

But I've been rude.

Please, sit.

I'm Roland Thompson, C.E.O. of Medtechumana Hospital Group,

one of America's largest health and medical services networks.

I like to say, "If you've got a bedpan under you

"Medtechhumana touched it first."

(fiendish laugh)

Ah. And as the nation's leading health care provider,

I must kill you.

Well, obviously, you and Ehrlich have got

some who's-going-to-kill-Duckman issues to work through.

(gulps)

Ehrlich is a fool.

I never thought he would find a cure for cancer.

Wait. You don't want the cure?

Please, sit down.

I'm not in the health business, Mr. Duckman,

I'm in the health care business.

The more beds I fill, the more profits I make.

But it does me no good to fill them with sniffles

and sprained ankles and other low-rent maladies.

That's why we invented the $12 aspirin,

the eight-dollar cotton ball:

To increase profit margin on lesser diseases.

They never just kill you.

There's always a lecture. Oy.

You come in with, say, a bad back,

you'll get X-rays, M.R.I.s,

bone scans, diskograms, myelograms,

and $60,000 later, we sell you a $400 heating pad

you could have bought at the drugstore for 30 bucks.

But it's not enough.

(whispering): Not nearly. No.

We need the premium patients.

Big-money procedures like coronary bypass,

gall bladder removal, pulmonary wedge resection,

unnecessary hysterectomies!

WOMAN: To become a U.S. ally and enjoy all ally benefits

like free trade, U.N. forces and complimentary upgrades

at Avis locations worldwide, press 34.

If you've taken or plan to take American hostages, press 35.

...laparoscopies, barium enemas, but the big kahuna

the everlasting gob-stopper

the grand mack daddy of them all is cancer.

Cancer alone accounts for 53% of our annual profits.

The needless diagnostics, hopeless therapies,

experimental drugs-- it's a dream come true.

(flushing)

Phew!

I was afraid while I was in there, you'd escape.

Now, where was I?

Cancer is a dream come true.

Oh, right. Yes, yes, the chewy profit center

in the middle of a health care lolly

protected by a cartel of businessmen

who depend on cancer to keep them in business. Look.

(upbeat pop acoustic guitar music)

(laser sounds)

MAN: Ladies and gentlemen, here are your cancer profiteers!

Doctors, lab workers, pharmaceutical manufacturers,

obituary writers, probate lawyers,

the Florida Formaldehyde Growers Council.

veil makers, New Yorkers who need apartments,

the Republican party...

What's the Republican party got to do with cancer?

Nothing, really.

They just go where the evil is.

Now, to preserve the growth industry

that is cancer...

prepare to die.

Ah!

Get me security.

Here's my car.

Nice ride.

My dealer offered me all these options

but I got the novelty breast- shaped dome light instead.

Hang on.

(tires screeching)

Duckman, I realized I've been wrong all along.

I was acting like the end justifies the means.

Thompson! Hold on.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, come on.

Stop it, stop it! Hey.

(whirring)

Hey, quit it.

(laughing)

Wait. I have an idea-- turn here.

That was your idea?

I hate Dixieland.

Ah! Look out!

(honking)

Ah!

(grunting)

(gasping)

Can't breathe.

Tobacco smoke.

Can feel... cancer growing...

(choking)

Well, this was some experience, doc.

Maybe putting the cure for cancer in my brain was...

Hey, did you hear that?

He's got a cure for cancer in his brain!

Crack open his head. Let's get it.

(clamoring)

EHRLICH: Stop! Listen to me.

Don't you see?

Alive, his brain can provide data for research

but if he dies, the cure is lost to us forever.

It's like the goose that laid the golden eggs.

When the greedy king decided to cut him open

to get all the eggs at once, it killed the goose.

Hey, he lays golden eggs too!

Let's cut him open and get all the eggs at once!

(clamoring)

(sirens blaring)

(gasping)

He'll die if I don't operate.

Help me get him in the car.

Well, it was touch and go.

He lost a lot of blood, but he pulled through

and we're confident he'll make a full recovery.

He wanted you all to know his will to live

came from knowing the people he loves were out here

and that he's feeling strong, and should be home soon.

(yelling)

Mmm...

Hey! Get back here!

I've rehearsed these things and everything.

Anyway, here's the really good part.

His brain injuries happened to give me

a clear path to the isotope.

We have our cure for cancer!

(cheering)

Good thing, too, because the remaining tissue

shows no reaction to M.R.I. pulses.

As I told Duckman,

this is all we're ever going to get.

Could we see it?

All right, but be careful.

It's in that specimen dish.

Oh, no!

(gasping)

(yowling)

Catch him!

That cat ate the cure for cancer!

MAN: Did you hear that?

The cat's got a cure for cancer in him.

Let's kill it!

(people clamoring)

It's over.

I'm okay. I'm alive.

I just hope I did the right thing,

but there's no need to worry about that anymore.

In fact, there's no need to worry

about anything while I'm here.

All I have to do is kick back, relax,

and leave myself in the safe and capable hands

of all these trained medical professionals.

(snoring softly)

MAN: Where's this one going?

WOMAN: O.R. Two-- hysterectomy.

THOMPSON: Nature's perfect machines.

DUCKMAN: Yeah, they're the best.