Original subtitles

(quacks)

(film projector running)

(fanfare playing)

MAN: Every living creature on Earth needs to mate,

even this little fellow.

Not much to look at, is he?

But even he is driven to seek sexual contact.

But this sad specimen has neither the prowess nor beauty

to attract a mate,

so he must go where females gather

to perform his desperate mating ritual.

* *

He tries even harder to attract her.

Then the moment of truth...

* *

Uh-oh!

Looks like our overeager friend is destined for failure...

...after failure...

...after failure,

till the sad little bottom-feeder,

unable to reproduce, is extinct.

And that's what happened to the grammet grub

ten million years ago.

He just couldn't keep up with nature's rich parade"

(bell ringing)

All right, children, class dismissed.

Please stop learning now.

Mambo, that film got me thinking.

Charles, it's another one of those factory irregular films

the district picks up cheap 'cause the facts are wrong.

Oh, yeah. I knew the capital of France wasn't Francetown.

No, I mean the whole time I watched the film

I was thinking about Dad.

I've noticed it's been a long time since he...

you know, bobbed for squab?

Got his Brosnan pierced?

Took a mulligan at the 19th hole?

Yeah, plus he can't get laid.

(crowd laughing)

Let's face it,

when it comes to women, Dad's no Larry King.

But he used to be able to find someone--

like a woman getting even with a boyfriend

or a nymphomaniac with low standards.

Or that blind, obsessed Seinfeld groupie

who thought he was Jason Alexander in a duck suit,

but that was two years ago.

I guess I didn't realize how long it had been.

That's probably why lately he's been so...

Hmm, what's the word for it?

(tires squealing)

Cranky?

You want me to squat

and pinch out a red friggin' carpet?

Get in!

(huffing)

How was school...?

Can we stop all the chatter?!

You know, a lot of fathers wouldn't take time out from work

to drive you two to your stupid soccer practice.

But, Dad, soccer season ended three months ago.

And... we've never played soccer.

Don't you give me your smart-aleck back talk!

(huffing)

Poor Dad.

He's wound tighter than Phil Gramm's sphincter.

I want to help, but there's no way.

Maybe there is a way.

What? You can hear our thoughts?

Yes. I seldom use my psychic gifts though,

because of one mind I beheld

filled with grisly, revolting evil...

(playing lounge jazz)

Wow! Willard Scott!

I'm a big fan...

(speaking gibberish)

(shuddering)

Anyway, I have an idea

how we can help your dad, but it violates

every principle decent people hold dear.

Damn... stupid... oxygen!

We'll, uh... keep open minds.

An aphrodisiac?

You want us to pervert our love of chemistry

and whip up a love potion

for Dad to use on unsuspecting women?

I've never heard such a depraved, twisted, reprehensible idea.

You've never seen the 700 Club.

It's an extreme measure, but it's the only way

to give Duckman a chance to meet someone.

If we combine my knowledge of human nature

with your chemistry expertise,

we can make a tiny smidge, a drop of sex appeal,

just enough so that for one evening

women won't run away when he approaches.

He could even find someone

who appreciates him like your mom did.

So really, we'd just be leveling the playing field, right?

Well, that seems fair.

Okay, we'll do it.

Oh, I must say I'm surprised

at how readily you boys bastardized your code of ethics

in order to justify a morally dubious decision.

That was very grownup of you.

So, let's start.

As for Duckman, MTV's running a House of Style marathon,

so he'll be... (clearing throat)

busy for hours.

Don't worry, I'm taping it.

Come on, musketeers.

Ajax, how did you get here?

Gloriosky. I have no idea.

Still, I would do anything for Dad,

even without a biscuit after each trick.

But, uh... you know, he doesn't need to know that part.

("Sorcerer's Apprentice" playing)

* *

* *

It's a wha...?

An aphrodisiac.

Yeah... I don't know.

I had my hair like that back in the '70s.

Too much hassle from "the man."

No, Dad, it's a love potion.

You splash it on like cologne

and any woman who smells it will be attracted to you.

You're yanking me-- and it works?

Then why am I here with you

instead of knee-deep in Jamie Lee Curtis?

If this stuff makes me irresistible...

No, Duckman, not irresistible.

There's just enough to intrigue one woman.

The rest is up to you.

Given your proven record

of mind-bogglingly destructive excess

we felt giving you more than that

would be like giving Michael Jackson

a drum of peanut oil and some Cub Scouts...

allegedly.

So this is all there is? No more?

It must have been difficult to make.

Nice try, Dad.

We're not telling you what's in it, and we won't make more.

This is it, so use it wisely.

You're so right, of course.

Thank you, beautiful children, dear friend

for your caring devotion, your...

Aw, come on, what are we waiting for?

Group hug, right now.

Come here.

(all sighing)

(door closing)

Dad, did you hear the door?

Dad?

He's gone.

Whoo-hoo! Whoo-hoo!

You don't think he'd find some way

to circumvent our wishes

and turn our well-intentioned deed into a hedonistic fiasco?

We shouldn't let him out of our sight for one second.

MAN: Next up on the House of Style marathon--

the swimsuit special.

ALL: Wow!

Good old House of Style swimsuit special.

They'll be hyp-mo-tized.

That gives me a half hour to figure out how to whip up

enough of this jungle juice

to get my nail hammered for life.

Fortunately, with Stein and his brood out of town

his private lab and library are mine, all mine.

Pur-ty.

But no time to stop and smell the rosewood.

I got to put the Bunsens on afterburners.

(liquid percolating)

Excellent!

I've used my newfound expertise in biochemistry

to synthesize the aphrodisiac.

Oh, Duckman, look what you can achieve

if you're motivated.

If you would just put this much energy

into improving your mind.

Yee-ha! There's a lot of guys smarter than me,

but I get all the ginch I want and then some.

Good point.

And now I begin a sordid, well-lubed flesh-fest

that won't end till I've toasted every marshmallow in town.

Zow-wee!

I'll have to play this one close to the vestal.

I'll enjoy more cupcakes if I start with tiny bites.

Just a wee nibble at a time until my posse drops its guard

and then... whoa, Nellie!

And Nellie's roommate.

Now, if I don't change my usual routine,

no one will be the wiser.

(dance music playing)

* *

Oh!

Watch where you're going, you corn-colored smudge-pot,

you bong-shaped earwig,

you slime-encrusted, dinghy-donged,

crud-mongering lizard larva!

Bernice, I know why you're upset.

You misplaced a bug, a stick, and your head

but a proctologist could help you find them.

Well, got to go! Got a big date!

A big date?

You?

Hmm...

Of all the stupid, thoughtless,

chauvinistic, brain-dead ideas...

What could you possibly have been thinking?!

Ajax, honey, I don't blame you.

You're not smart enough to come up with a plan this stupid.

And Charles and Mambo, while I expect more from you,

you can't be blamed for the poor example

set by your so-called adult supervision!

Bernice, it's only fair that I take some of the blame.

Wrong! You get all the blame!

You turned my house

into an episode of Weird Science!

Yeah.

And as for you...!

(gulps)

If what they tell me is true

they only gave you a tiny, little bit.

So how'd you hook every woman in the Southland

and still smell like an explosion

at the Old Spice plant?

And why is Benjamin Franklin taking my stove apart?

The jig is up-- run, wastebasket, run.

Bernice, let's cut to the chaste.

I freely admit I made more of the formula.

I just wouldn't be able to live with myself

if I didn't come clean and surrender the rest of it to you.

Here you go.

This is all of it.

The whole thingy.

I'm tapped out now, no mo'.

Hmm...

I have no choice but to trust you.

(laughing)

That's right. Trust me. Overestimate my character.

I'll keep the formula hidden,

lay low till they forget about it,

and then it's back to better living through chemistry.

I'll know when the time is right.

I'm exhausted. I'm going to sleep.

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

The time is right!

CORNFED: Duckman.

Duckman, you ready

to go to work?

What do you mean, work?

Tuesday? The Saperstein stakeout?

Oh, right.

The Saperstein stakeout.

Last one in the car has to deal with the Greek.

(glass breaking)

(shouting) Yes, sir.

Yes, Mr. Papandreo. Son of a biscuit!

Shove it up your Macedonia, Mr. Papandreo,

you Greek son of...

What's his problem this time?

I don't know.

Who gives a couscous?!

Stop the presses! You see what I see?

Holy exclamation of surprise, Duckman.

It's Courtney Thorne-Smith.

Courtney who-huh?

From Melrose Place.

She was so sexy in Summer School,

so smart and sassy on Day by Day.

Plus, she's got a pair of huskies

that go to the Yukon and back.

Whoof-a. What a quail.

I got to talk to her.

Damn. No liquid loving.

Boy, and the one time I really need it.

After all, the only way I ever get to broil

a snapper like that is if she comes up to me and says...

Excuse me.

I couldn't help noticing you across the street.

No more formula, eh?

Ha!

I smell a rat!

A big sitcommy rat!

Hi, I'm...

No need to tell me who you are.

Uh, miss.. Jessica?

Parker? Lewis?

Or may I... simply call you Jodie?

(suppressed giggle)

My really close friends call me "Courtney."

Well, Courtney, I'm, uh, Duckman.

Duckman, I hope I'm not being too forward...

Trust me, it's your best angle.

Thank you.

I never do this, but I noticed you out here

and I felt like I had to talk to you.

Wait a sec... you noticed me?

How can that be?

I'm a private detective

on a stakeout.

I'm supposed to blend in

disappear, keep my profile low.

Please don't be upset.

It was low-- very, very, low.

Just... really low.

Yeah, right. No, really!

Other than that, you were Mr. Low Profile.

Honest.

Well, I am a professional.

So, Duckman, make a fool out of me, eh?

I'll turn that house upside down

until I find your hidden stash of formula

and who will have the last laugh, then, eh,

Duckman, my twitty?!

(laughing wickedly)

(screams)

And that is why, in Togo

biscuits are called "duckmen."

But here I'm yakking about me.

What I want to hear about is you.

Me?

Well, my hometown was founded in

sex, sex, fondle, lick, lick,

sex, breasts, sex, lick, sex,

sex, restraints, oils, sex,

velour, sex, sex...

But all kids get picked on, you know?

Yeah, sure.

Tha-that... thing you said.

I think your friend is waving at you.

Friend? Nope, nope, i'm here alone.

Duckman.

He's not a friend of yours?

No, never met the gentleman.

I need you to cover for me.

I have to go to the bathroom.

He sure seems like a friend of yours.

If we were friends, would I shriek at him

in a piercing, deranged voice?

Go away! Go away!

Leave me alone! Leave me alone!

Just go!

Um... let me ask you something.

Would you like to have dinner?

Dinner? I'd love to.

Wait. Didn't you just have dinner?

Me? No, I haven't eaten yet.

Miss Thorne-Smith, you left your purse

when you had dinner.

Go away! Go away!

Leave me alone!

Fun, isn't it?

It is.

* *

(Duckman and Courtney laughing)

(both laughing)

Shh! Shh!

(both laugh)

So...

this is your room, huh?

It's interesting.

Yeah. Gee, I'm sorry

the place is so... sloppy.

I... I hope you're not offended by...

all the adult magazines.

I... research, um...

Duckman, don't worry.

I don't see anything wrong with a man

having a healthy interest in magazines like

Asian Pregnant Amputees Shaving Each Other Monthly.

It's, uh... it's good to have a hobby.

I have other interests, too.

(squeaks)

Yeah, I'll just bet you do.

Name one hobby that has nothing to do with sex.

Uh... ha...

Are you sure there are some?

No, no, wait. I do.

Now, you're going to think this is stupid.

Try me.

Well, okay...

I'm nuts about...

blaxploitation films.

No way!

You're kidding.

I love blaxploitation films.

Really?!

Oh, yeah!

All the classics-- Die, You Black Mother,

Scream, Blackenstein, Scream...

And the biggest, baddest

black detective of them all--

BOTH: Jim Slate, Big Black Dick.

BOTH: * Who's the bad black detective man *

* Who gets things done any way he can? *

* Jim Slate *

* Big black dick *

* He's a clean-lovin' mother *

* Who'll sacrifice for a brother *

* Jim Slate *

* Big black dick. *

Oh, yeah!

(breaking wind)

Whoa!

(muffled giggles)

(moaning)

That was the best sex I've ever had.

I don't know how you manage

to be so needy and selfish at the same time.

Wow! I am only just getting feeling back

in my fingers and toes.

Told you that anesthetic would wear off.

Hey, I don't know why

but I think my family was acting weird this morning.

You got to understand, they're not as sophisticated as I am.

Plus, I don't often get celebrity hubba-jubba.

No, they were fine.

Though your son Ajax has quite a firm grip.

Ajax, let go of Courtney's hand.

Okay, Dad.

Can I call you Mo-o-o-o-m-m?

Will he be all right?

Four steel plates.

He's a trooper.

Courtney, um... I have to wonder, you know

what a successful, intelligent

bit of honey like you

sees in a schmo-o-rama like me.

You know how smart women make foolish choices?

Well, I'm very smart.

I hope that doesn't offend you.

Nah. If I had a nickel for every time I heard that,

I wouldn't have had to steal your diamond earrings.

Thanks to you, I've learned the difference

between the right kind of love and the wrong kind of love...

the kind I've been chasing for the last few days--

hell, for most of my life-- but that's over now.

So, want to have lunch today?

Sure! I will take you to Gary's Deli

for the actual Courtney Thorne-Smith sandwich--

ham and cream cheese on white bread.

No tongue? Har-har.

Tell me: What's the perfect Duckman sandwich?

Well, it involves you and Daphne Zuniga,

but we'll talk about that as we get closer to my birthday.

(chuckles)

Guys, I have to tell you someth...

What? What happened?

Oh. What a coincidence.

That's wh...

Nice try, you dreck-dripping drake!

You lied to us!

And Courtney--

this isn't some blind Seinfeld sicko,

but a sweet, caring woman who deserves better

than to be fooled into loving you by some potion!

You're wrong!

I didn't use it last night.

Courtney loves me for me!

Some people never experience this,

but I've been blessed enough to find it twice.

And instead of being happy for me, you accuse me and insult me.

And when you say I'm some loser

who used a love potion to trick Courtney

into sleeping with me,

well, then you're insulting Courtney,

and I will not let you do that!

Wait here!

You think I care about this formula?

Here, take it. Throw it away!

I don't need it.

I'm in love with her,

and she's in love with me for who we are.

Duckman, I'm sorry.

Yeah, sorry, Dad. Sorry, Duckman.

Courtney! What are you...?

I came back just... to see you again.

I missed you that much.

I heard what you said, Duckman, and it was beautiful.

Turns out you're not a foolish choice after all.

You're... you're actually a pretty great choice.

So I have to break up with you.

ALL: What?!

I only make foolish choices, remember?

I think you are the most caring,

supportive, sensitive man I've ever met.

And I've been to the Prime-time Emmy Awards.

Clearly, I would be happy with you forever.

That's why I have to leave you.

But couldn't you make an exception?

I'd like to, but I'm a celebrity.

I make foolish choices all the time.

To change now would be disastrous.

I'm sorry, Duckman.

Maybe someday I'll make the right choice after all.

(whispering): Bye.

ANNOUNCER: Next on Melrose Place:

Allison finds out the man in her life...

ANNOUNCER 2: Coming up next:

Seinfeld...

Yeah, uh... hi. Irma?

You know who this is?

Yeah, that's-that's right.

Well, I haven't seen you in a long time.

I thought maybe we'd get together.

Really?

Well, I happen to know for a fact

you're not who you say you are.

I'm onto you, sicko!

JASON ALEXANDER: I swear, I've never met you before.

Tell you what-- let me go, and we'll forget

the whole thing, okay... Irma?

Tonight I'm not Irma.

Tonight call me... "Vandelay."

I wish you'd brought that duck suit.

(psycho violin shrieking)

(Jason Alexander laughing)

COURTNEY: * For a brother *

BOTH: * Sacrifice for a brother *

I get it now.

BOTH: * He's a clean-lovin' mother, sacrifice for a brother *

(Courtney laughing)

BOTH: * Jim Slate *

* Big black dick... *

Okay. I think... Okay.

MAN: Two, three and...

BOTH: * Who's the bad black detective... *

I messed up already.

That's okay.

* Who's the bad black detect... *

I can't do it together!

*...Who gets things done? *

(both laughing)

I'm so overwhelmed!

DUCKMAN: Don't you give me your smart-aleck back talk!