Original subtitles

(duck quacks)

(indistinct chatter)

(overlapping chatter)

"Let's go to the local college

and find an intern for the agency," you said.

"You'll really get something out of giving back

to the community," you said.

Well, so far, the only thing I've gotten today is a sore butt!

You know, Corny, you pulled some real boners in your day...

and now it's my turn.

(woman screaming)

Greetings, sir.

I've come to inquire

about your intriguing offer of internship.

Is this some sort of fraternity hazing stunt?

(laughing): I just love your voice.

You're like the white Barry White, aren't you?

But no. Rest assured that since I was a young lad,

being strolled about town in Nanny's pram,

I've found that there's no greater profession

than that of a gumshoe.

Um, you realize we can't pay you, of course,

and that putting our agency on your r�sum�

could actually cost you jobs, and that several people

who have used our bathroom

contracted three different strains of...

Please, it matters not.

To intern for your agency,

I would gladly walk across the hot coals of hell

in a pair of open-toed shoes.

Then I guess our next step

would be setting up an interview

with the president of our company.

And I take it he's the delightful scamp

hiding underneath the table.

Good news, Corn.

This exquisite exchange student

has agreed to become our intern.

She's from Bally.

I think you mean Bali.

Bali?!

Forget it!

Duckman, I'd like you to meet...

Elliott-- humbly applying for the position

of intern/manservant.

I don't know, schlummo,

you're not exactly what I had in mind,

i.e., young, female, non-repulsive...

Duckman, I think you should make your decision now.

The students are protesting

your presence on campus.

There he is.

Don't let him get away!

Come on! Got you!

Did... I... do... okay?

You did great, kid.

Nobody's ever taken a tomato for me before.

I took a bullet for you once

and a knife and a gin bottle

and a three-ton tractor-trailer...

Quit wallowing in the past, Corn.

Elliot, welcome to Team Duckman.

And now for our first order of business...

(all clamoring)

Let's get the hell out of here!

Ah, to attend a public function with Duckman

and leave using the door.

(whistling)

(grunts)

(gasps)

Good morrow, Mr. C.

Morning, Elliott.

Um, I'm afraid you're sitting at my desk.

My, a tad territorial, aren't we?

Actually, since I've already set up shop here, you know,

picture cubes, carbon paper, that sort of thing,

I was wondering if you wouldn't mind being a flower drum song

working over there for a bit.

Um... Thanks. You're a dear.

Now, tell me--

what time does that nice Mr. Duckman come in?

Usually as soon as bail is posted.

Now, then, since today is your first day,

I was thinking we should go over the Detective Manual.

If you have any questions,

please don't hesitate to ask.

"Chapter one..."

Um, Elliott?

What are Duckman's dreams?

Last I heard,

a Poconos hot tub weekend with Loretta Swit.

Now, then, "Chapter one..."

Elliott?

Will Duckman ever remarry?

He probably couldn't pass the blood test.

Now, then...

Forgive me if I'm misreading you, Elliott,

but you seem somewhat obsessed with...

Duckman!

What to do? What to do?

Yesterday, I used you as a living dart board,

the day before, I tossed you in the trash compactor...

Perhaps I would make

one teensy-weensy, bite-size suggestion.

(whispering)

Elliott, you're a man-child after my own heart.

Ow! Ow!

(loud chewing and swallowing)

They think I've tortured them before.

Wait till they experience

the horrors of my digestive system.

(rumbling)

Enjoy the ride, kids.

Since today's my first day

under your rather... (sniffing)

aromatic wing, I thought I'd show

my appreciation

by tossing together a little smorgasbord.

Whoo-hoo!

Bon app�tit!

But, Duckman, you promised

to watch your cholesterol.

Oh, I also brought in a few periodicals

to spruce up your waiting area.

I hope none of you are offended

by the risqu�.

Women's Babe Daily!

Better Hose and Garters!

Seventeen Inches!

It's a regular pornocopia!

Whoo-hoo! Check it out, Corn.

Pop-ups.

Blush.

Well, I guess Elliott and I should carry on

with our detective training.

Well, actually, I think I'd get more out of studying

under the master instead. Don't you?

Duckman, what do you say knock off early

and head to this go-go place I know

where we can have a serious, sober discussion

of the intricacies of private investigation.

(chuckles)

Lap dances on me.

Last one in the car mops up the vomit.

Actually, a sparkling apple cider

would kind of hit the spot.

Cornfed, aren't you forgetting something?

It says in your appointment book

that you're volunteering at some sort of...

geriatric hospital this morning.

Mm, you're right.

I best hurry over.

Well, Elliott, it was certainly nice

having you here today.

What did you say?

It was nice having me here? "Nice?"

What are you trying to say? That I'm cute?

Some sideshow geek to dance for your amusement?

Is that what you want, little pig man?

A little shimmy?

A little shake?

Does that make you happy?

Does that make you feel like a man?!

No. I just meant it was nice having you here.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't hear right.

Waxy buildup.

Ha, anyhoo...

bye-bye now. Come again.

This little piggy thinks he's so smart.

He thinks he's so funny, eh?

Well, let's just see who's laughing now, shall we?

(chuckles)

Let's just see who's laughing now.

(evil laughter)

What are you people still doing here?

Don't you have a little psychic friends commercial

to watch or something?

(crickets chirping)

(Duckman retching)

Elliott, tonight was the greatest night of my life.

And you, my friend, made it all possible.

What did we do again?

(laughing)

No. I'm serious.

Well, let's see. What didn't we do?

Strip clubs, table dances,

uh, triple-X double features,

beer bongs, flaming shots, tattoos...

Tattoos?

(gasps)

Yes, the infection that's setting in

lends a nice graphic relief quality,

don't you think?

(laughing giddily)

You know, Duckman, I've been thinking

that since we've had so much fun tonight

and would hate to see said fun end,

well, I have a proposition to make.

Proposition? Sorry.

This duck don't splunk in the bunk

if you know what I mean.

Though, maybe after another drink.

(laughing)

Ooh!

Shh, shh, shh.

We don't want to wake that beast Ber...

(smoke alarm beeping)

(screaming)

Ahh! Ooh! Ahh!

Ahh!

There isn't any fire.

It's just dad.

I can't decide which is worse.

You mean we hosed Grandma-ma down for nothing?

How many times do I have to tell you

no more work-release convicts to do our yard!

Duckman, I didn't know you had a daughter.

You must be mistaken.

I'm Duckman's sister-in-law.

You're Bernice?

Ha, when Duckman described you as kvetching

I'm sure he meant "fetching."

Mm-wha.

(tittering)

(clearing throat) (clearing throat)

Don't worry. I've got plenty of hugs and kisses for you too.

Papa has told me so much about you.

Mm-wha. Mm-wha.

Oh, they're darling--

just like the Olsen Twins only much less eerie.

But forgive my manners.

My name is Elliott--

a college student, hyphen, aspiring detective

under the tutelage of your dear, sweet father.

In fact, we have an announcement to make.

Should you tell them, or should I?

Since I have absolute no idea what you're talking about,

perhaps you should.

In order to focus my studies better,

I was hoping to move into your humble abode

and become an honorary member

of the delightful Duckman family.

Sure. I understand.

You're happy the way you are.

You remind me of my family, right before they were killed

by that experimental gasoline space heater back in '87.

Go ahead, toss me out into the street.

I'm sure a nice religious cult will take me in--

just as long as I shave my head

and put on some really ugly sandals.

(sobbing)

(sobbing)

I feel just... awful.

Of course you can stay with us, Mr. Elliott.

That's Uncle Elliott.

Come on, boys.

Let's fix up the guest room.

We got a guest room?

We do when you sleep in the car. Ha!

From now on-- a new era in decadence.

As much fun as we had this evening,

I promise ten... no 11 times more.

All the rich food

your bloated belly can handle,

all the bodacious babes your lazy eyes can ogle,

all the pleasure one body can stand.

I... I don't think anybody's ever been as nice to me,

ever understood me as much as you do.

Thanks, Elliott.

Aw, come here, you big sour-smelling galoot.

In the words of that sassy chanteuse,

Ms. Dionne Warwick, "That's what friends are...

...for."

(whistling "Old MacDonald Had a Farm")

Mmm, mmm, mmm.

Duckman, what are you doing here this early?

Don't you claim to be legally blind until at least noon?

No time to sleep, Pork Barrel.

There's just too much fun to be had.

Why waste two to three minutes waiting

for morning coffee to kick in, when I can just inject it

directly into the old bloodstream?

I thought you'd given up caffeine

since it was making you break out in those long, alliterative rants

about the injustices of modern-day society

that we were all pretty much getting sick of.

God, you'd think he was your mama or something.

(giggling)

You know, it's funny.

When I went to the hospital yesterday,

I found I wasn't supposed to volunteer until next week.

That's never happened to me before.

Gee, that is funny.

You should go on Star Search.

Duckman, you keep up with your, uh, research.

I'll throw some slugs in the candy machine down the hall

and come back with every gooey

glucose sugary snack known to man.

Breakfast is after all the most important meal of the day.

Elliott, you the man!

Duckman, does Elliott strike you as a little... odd?

Oh, cut him some slack, Cornfed.

You know these college kids--

always looking for someone to believe in

some sort of role model.

Ugh! Damn ringworms.

I guess you're right.

(ringing)

Duckman Detect...

Yes. This is Cornfed.

(muffled yelling on phone)

But that's impossible, Doctor.

It says in my appointment book

I don't donate my kidney until three...

(muffled yelling) Oh, that's horrible.

Please tell the family I'll go halfsies on the headstone.

(ringing)

I'm sorry, Warden, but according to my appointment book,

I don't sing to the inmates until next Thursday.

How many have been taken hostage?

(gunshots, line disconnects)

(dial tone)

Something very odd is going on here.

Cuckoo.

He, uh, must be going through

the change of life or something.

Your candy, sire.

Oh, can't.

No more room.

Ah, but you're forgetting...

(whispering)

That's right!

Fluffy and Uranus.

Can't wait to see the look on their faces.

Neither can I.

(ringing)

Duckman's Agency.

(muffled voice on phone)

Uh, Cornfed?

One moment, Sister Aloysius.

I'll see if he's in.

(falsetto): This is Cornfed Pig.

(normal voce): No, that's not right.

(Italian accent): This a-is a-Cornfed Pig.

(normal voice): That's close.

(coughing)

(imitating Cornfed): This is Cornfed Pig.

The orphans are waiting for me to read to them?

Who am I? Their parents?

Yeah, I got a million of them.

Listen, sister, I've been meaning to tell you,

it's a good thing you're married to God

'cause no man would ever want you.

Ha!

What? I've offended you?

Then go have a stigmata. Ha!

(dial tone) Hello. Hello?

Check... and mate.

I don't even know how to play chess,

but that sounds so-- you know-- goldfingery.

Extra! Extra!

Pig's hateful words hurt nun!

Orphanage to close!

Orphans to be sold to science!

(mob screaming)

Fluffy, Uranus, where's Duckman?

BOTH: Please don't eat us. Please don't eat us.

Please don't eat us.

My world has been turned upside down.

I don't know what's happening to me.

I'm changing appointments I don't remember changing.

Hurling insults I don't remember hurling.

How can this...

Look, Piggy, or Oink-Oink,

or whatever the hell you call yourself.

If you're going to have

some kind of Mansonesque ooga-booga breakdown,

do it on your own time.

We're trying to work here.

I may be losing my mind,

but I'm sane enough to know that you're trouble.

Get away from him, Duckman.

He waits on you hand and foot,

gives you everything you want.

Oh, and that makes me trouble. Oh, yeah.

That makes sense.

"Duh, I'm Cornfed. I'm a detective.

Duh, look at me, everybody. I'm dumb." (laughs)

(laughs) Ah, you got to admit, the kid's got you down.

I'll have you know that Duckman and Elliott

go together like peanut butter and jelly

spaghetti and meat balls.

Air show and disaster?

(whining): You take that back right now.

(sniffles)

(sobbing): Anybody got a hankie?

Preferably a Puffs Plus.

I chafe so easily.

Well, lookee, lookee-loo.

What do we have here?

Cornfed! How could you?

Duckman, it's obviously a forgery.

First, I would never wrest

control of your agency away from you.

Second, I spell my name with a "C."

I don't want to hear your excuses!

I don't care if you screwed up your charity work.

I don't care if you make the kid weep like a woman.

I don't even care if you make prank phone calls to nuns--

which, by the way, is my domain--

but when you try taking away my business--

something I worked so hard to form as a tax write-off

those many years ago-- that's where I draw the line.

Pack your trough, Corny. You're through.

I'll have a real friend show you to the door.

Get him out of here, Elliott.

He makes me sick.

No sooner said than done, your eminence.

Uh, Duckman, please...

Um, nope.

Go, you. (straining)

I'm still your friend.

I need your help.

(grunting)

Please.

(sniffles)

And thus, my fall from grace was complete.

For reasons I still can't explain,

I've broken appointments and promises, hurt a lot of people

and in turn, betrayed an entire city.

(snarling)

But it's not me, I swear.

It's... it's...

(man grunting)

(distant police siren wailing)

Elliott. All this started as soon as he joined the agency.

He could have forged that letter, changed my appointments,

captured my dulcet yet virile tones

when that nun called...

but why? Why?

Why, why, why would Elliott be behind this?

(wind whistling)

Sadly, not even the urbane insights of Marmaduke

can bring a smile to this face.

Gasp.

(thunder crashes)

(men hooting)

Whoo! What a fantabulous celebration

of our new partnership.

More chocolate-covered pork jerky, Duckman?

(squishing)

(gulping)

I wonder where that waitress is

with those grain-alcohol enemas I ordered?

Elliott... I'm never one to poop on a party

unless, of course, it's one of those parties,

but I haven't slept since I met you.

Maybe we should... you know, go home.

Come on, Duckman!

One more lap dance.

It's not going to kill you.

(snaps fingers)

(rimshot)

(audience gasps)

Yeah!

(laughing)

(erratic heartbeat)

(thunder crashing)

(glass breaking)

Cornfed!

Here's a Hamilton, baby.

Buy yourself a new hat.

Duckman, come back.

(groggy mumbling)

I'm afraid your little experiment is over, Elliott.

Or should I say, Dr. Remus Elliott?

You... I... me... her...

How did you find out?

By being the only person in the world

who will actually read a college newspaper.

You're no student, nor were you ever

interested in becoming a detective.

You were merely using Duckman as a pawn

in your sick research experiment

to see if you could kill a man with pleasure.

Okay, Mannix, you nailed me.

The second I saw him on intern day,

I knew Duckman would be the perfect specimen

for this project.

His total lack of restraint

self-control, willpower, class--

let's face it, the guy's a friggin' mess.

(mumbling feverishly)

But why discredit me?

Try to ruin my life?

Oh, I could say you represent

the yin to Duckman's yang--

that your stable influence is the only thing

that's kept him from getting to this state years ago.

But the real reason I tried destroying you, Cornfed...

was that I just never cared for you.

I don't know, there was, like, a wall or something between us.

We never really connected.

You've done enough harm for one lifetime, Doctor.

The next paper you'll be writing

will be your resignation letter to the college.

Dream on, Pinky.

When I finish my experiment, I'll get my thesis published,

thus accomplishing my greatest achievement ever:

tenure!

Come on, Duckman.

We're going home.

Oh, no, he's not.

The Duckman belongs to me now.

Duckman, come here.

Here, Ducky.

Duck-Duck, Ducky, Ducky.

(grunting feebly)

Duckman, it's me, Cornfed--

you know, Corn Pone... Corn Husker... Cornicles.

(whimpering)

Cornfed doesn't know how to have a good time, Duckman.

You said so yourself.

(whimpers)

Duckman, no. You've got to be strong.

Do it for your family.

Charles, Mambo, Ajax, Bern...

Gecko.

(grunts weakly)

Look like it's time to break out the big guns, so to speak.

I'm sorry. Did I forget to mention

that our sultry, seductive sexpot was also

a sextuplet!

Come to me, Duckman.

You know you want it.

You're better than that, Duckman.

He's trying to kill you.

Please. You're my friend.

I need you, I... love... you.

(whimpering)

(glass breaks)

(gasping excitedly)

(heart beating faster)

(laughing excitedly)

(gasping groan)

(heart stops)

Damn you!

Damn you!

Damn you!

I win! I win!

But more importantly, you lose! You lose!

Say, He-man! How's about we blow this testicle stand

and head to another place I know?

Togo A-Go-Go-- them Bantu broads sure know how to shimmy.

What?

You're back?

You're alive?

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

indestructible!

Guess all I needed

was that little catnap-slash-coma

back there to flip over the circuit breakers

and now I'm ready for more, more, more!

No! No! No!!

(crying hysterically)

CORNFED: Good going, Duckman.

Pretending you wanted more

of his self-destructive, decadent lifestyle

was the only way to get Elliott out of your life forever.

Congratulations on a brilliant plan.

Plan?

CORNFED: Let's go home, Duckman.

Uh, Corny...

what happened back there...

it, uh...

I-I tried. Uh...

Thanks, Corny.

That's what friends are for, Duckman.

That's what friends are for.

DUCKMAN: Ugh! Damn ringworms.