Original subtitles

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Hey, this is your lucky night.

We got some great stories.

In fact the first story, is all about this really great...

Come on, Bob...yeah, yeah. Come on Bob, come on Bob...

What's this?... What the..?

Maurice, we're doin' a show here! Hello?

Don't be afraid, Bob, he may look weird,

but he's just a harmless cockroach.

Bob?

Who's Bob?

Oh, Bob. My dog.

Come on Bobby, come on boy, come on Bob -

This I gotta see. Right after our first story.

Zis is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine,

Dr. Werner Von Bunsenburner.

I used to see Werner every year at the League of Mad

Scientists convention in Poughkeepsie,

but even for a mad scientist,

Werner vas fou-fou crazy.

He vas alvays going on about how he vas going to preserve

his brain so he could live forever.

Ve all laughed and told him he vas crazier than a

zoup zandwich.

All of us other mad scientists knew zat ze real

money vas in creating products for late night

infomercials.

But Werner vas determined.

He turned his back on the League of Mad Scientists

and verked night and day on his brain preserving invention.

He vent vithout food, vithout sleep --

even vithout television!

I TOLD you he vas crazy.

But he got his machine to verk!

He managed to zap his own brain into a jar,

where ze special preserving liquid would keep it alive

forever!

Okay, but zere vas a problem.

You see, his brain was in zis jar on a shelf,

and it had to stay there vith nothing to do.

It vas connected up to a voice synthesizer,

but zere vas no one to talk to.

You know, without a body, immortality zucks.

So he vas imprisoned in zis jar on his own for veeks,

months, years!

He vas going out of his mind because he couldn't go out

of his mind, if you follow.

And Werner's lab never got any visitors,

so Werner resigned himself to living ze rest of his

long, long life all alone -

until a burglar came crashing through his vindow.

Werner zaw this as a golden opportunity.

He could use his machine to svitch brains with the

burglar and escape...

all he had to do vas lure the burglar into it.

Zo, using his voice synthesizer,

Werner made an announcement.

"Attention", he zaid.

"Zis is the computerized alarm system.

Do not go near ze vall safe.

Repeat. Do not attempt to open the vall safe where

all ze valuables are."

Vell, ze burglar's face lit up,

and he vent right over to vot he thought

vas the vall safe.

"No! Don't do it!

You'll be sorry!", yelled ze brain,

trying to suppress its glee.

Ze burglar turned ze vheel to open ze safe,

and ze brain-sucking machine came down from ze ceiling

onto his head.

Ze burglar's brain vound up in ze jar.

But even better, Werner's brain vas sucked into ze

body of ze burglar!

At last, he had a body again.

He could interact with the rest of the vorld!

He ran outside for ze first time in years.

Oh, ze zweet smell of fresh air!

[ACHOO!]

Ze sounds of nature!

Ze feel of ze cool, green grass under his feet!

Yes, for ze first time in years Werner could enjoy all

the smells, sounds and sensations

the vorld had to offer.

But zen Werner saw something really sensational...

Ze first Fraulein he had seen in decades!

Zis must be love, thought Werner!

He stood zere transfixed, trying to muster ze courage

to go over to her -- zen he discovered why

he couldn't move!

He vas zurrounded by policemen who put him in

handcuffs and leg irons!

You see, ze burglar who broke into Werner's office

vas vanted for a series of robberies,

and Werner's new face and fingerprints pointed to him

being ze burglar.

Werner couldn't convince ze police that he vas no thief,

just an honest, mad scientist trapped in the

body of a habitual criminal.

In fact, ze judge vas so disgusted at Werner's

ridiculous claims she decided he must pay ze

maximum penalty for ze burglar's crimes -

life in solitary confinement!

Zat vas a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine,

Dr. Werner Von Bunsenburner.

He got burnt, all right -- he escaped his jar,

only to end up in ze jig.

Heh! Some dog you got.

He won't even come when you call him.

Well, he's cute, but he's not too bright.

You're not too bright. He's a dog!

Just drag him in here!

Ohh! I want him to love me.

You drag him in.

All right.

Get over here!

Maurice! This dog is...

I love him so very, very much.

Huh?!

How am I gonna tell him his pet dog ain't a real dog?

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Ruth Smedley, a chemistry Professor.

The college had a reputation for discovering some of the

brightest stars in the world of academia.

But from time to time a student came along that

one would recognize as a black hole in the bunch.

In this particular case there were two.

Peter and Paul were perhaps the most obnoxious young

trouble-makers to ever set foot in those hallowed halls

of higher learning.

They were chemistry majors, but most of their

experiments were performed outside the laboratory.

And they usually involved members of the periodic

table of elements that could be combined to make the most

obnoxious sounds, offensive sights,

and nauseating odors.

First it was bubbles in the school fountain.

Good clean fun you say?

Ha ha!

Then the washroom stink-o-rama.

There was nothing clean about that.

Then the floating food in the cafeteria,

uplifting for a moment perhaps,

but ultimately ending in a vile, sticky mess.

There was little doubt amongst the faculty and

student body as to who were the architects

of all the mayhem.

But Peter and Paul seemed to have skin like Teflon.

No one could pin the blame on them and make it stick.

By year's end, Peter and Paul were still holding on

to passing grades, much to the chagrin

of Professor Smedley.

It irked her to no end that these thorns in her side

kept coming up smelling like roses.

She couldn't wait to see the backs of their fat heads

heading out the door for the last time.

It was the night before the important final examination.

Figuring they could easily keep up their 'D' grade on

the final, Peter and Paul decided that instead of

studying like other students,

they'd sneak out for one last night of bone-headed

buffoonery.

Their venue of choice on this particular evening was

the women's dormitory.

Their goal, as always, was to wreak havoc for no

particular reason whatsoever.

For Peter and Paul, it was a night to remember.

Unfortunately, they failed to remember to set

their alarm.

They made a mad dash to the auditorium,

but by the time they got to the exam room,

it was all over.

They'd missed it.

Their hi-jinx had finally caught up with them.

Their parents would kill them if they didn't at least

get passing grades.

Or at least make them pay back the rather hefty

tuition fees.

They had to think fast, so they did the only thing they

could do under the circumstances.

They threw themselves at the mercy of Professor Smedley.

And together they conjured up the most unbelievable

crock about going away to a retreat and studying for

hours...getting so involved in their research that they

barely had enough time to get back.

But wouldn't you know it,and much to their horror,

they got a flat tire!

And of course, the car had no spare,

and on and on they went, deeper into their lie.

To Peter and Paul's surprise,

when they looked up at Professor Smedley,

she seemed to be buying it.

"In fact," she said, "I'm going to give you boys a

second chance to improve your year end mark.

Yes, I'll let you take the exam...and it's going to be

worth a hundred percent of your grade."

Needless to say, the boys couldn't believe their luck.

Yes, this was their finest hour.

They'd pulled one over on Smedley!

But even better, now they might get decent marks which

would definitely impress their folks.

Not bad after goofing around for three years.

So the boys hit the books and pulled an agonizing

all-nighter.

The next morning Peter and Paul were all set to ace

the final exam.

They arrived right on time.

Professor Smedley gave them each an exam booklet with

their name on it.

It seemed strange to Peter and Paul that she put them

in separate rooms.

The first question was worth five percent and was a

no-brainer about what chemical compounds could be

mixed together to form different types of gasses.

Neither boy had a problem with that one.

The next question, worth ninety five percent of the

year's final mark, was not nearly so easy,

oh no.

It was just four simple words and it had the boys

completely flummoxed.

The question read, 'Which tire was flat?'

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

As for Peter and Paul they never did graduate but they

were able to eke out a meager existence doing what

they did best...

clowning around.

I gotta tell ya...

Isn't he the sweetest, cutest most darling little fella?

Oh, man, the truth is gonna break his heart.

Did you want to tell me something, Larry?

Uh...later. Uh, roll the next story.

Okay...good boy!

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Smelly Kelly's this guy from the neighbourhood, right?

Got his nickname for, eh, obvious reasons.

See, Smelly Kelly worked in the sewers

and what's more, he liked it.

It's what makes you happy that counts, right?

But Smelly wasn't gonna get rich and famous

hanging around down there.

Yeah, well, that's what we all thought, too.

But see, one day Old Man Grisnat sent for Smelly Kelly.

Smelly went right up to the miser's mansion

on the upper West Side.

Now anyone who read a paper could tell you 'bout Grisnat.

Rich, rich, rich and mean, mean, mean.

This guy closed an orphanage once to open a drive-through

yogurt shack.

Smelly Kelly was ushered in the front door.

And he stopped dead.

Cause at the top the stairs was the most beautiful girl

Smelly had ever seen.

Their eyes locked for a split second, see...

but then the butler shoved Smelly into the master's

study, mostly in self defense.

Ohhh, the girl was a real beauty.

Right out of Smelly's league.

The crinkly old miser sat there and he got right to

the point.

"I want you to map me out the whole underground

of the city," he said.

"Never been done in a hundred years!

Gonna buy the whole thing and charge the public

by the flush! [LAUGHS]

Smelly was excited, right?

He was already dreaming about all the caverns of

putrid slime and rivers of sludge no one had ever seen.

Smelly didn't think twice about quitting his job with

the city right there and then.

And he was down there for months.

Years even.

Never saw daylight for weeks on end!

Packs of rats started following him around

as he criss-crossed through the underground maze.

Slipping through traps no one even knew were there.

Ducking through grids no wider than a river snake's

behind.

But one day, finally, the maps were done!

Smelly was a sewer genius, right?

But he was broke.

So he took a three hundred year old viaduct to an

ancient set of stairs and popped out in Old Man

Grisnat's laundry room.

But this is where everything went bad for Smelly, right?

He and his putrid odor hauled themselves into the

old man's den, presented him the best,

stinkiest set of sewer maps anyone ever saw...

And the Old Man just kicked him out.

Seems he lost interest in the whole deal,

like hours after Smelly went underground!

Just never bothered to tell the guy.

Oh, and, eh, he wasn't paying him neither.

Smelly tried getting his job back with the city,

but his old co-workers found his new aroma

a little hard to take.

He was on the street when the news hit.

"Billionaire's Granddaughter Swept Away!"

It seems Old Man Grisnat's granddaughter's Diamond

necklace fell off and went right down an open manhole.

The kid reached in for it, and boom,

down she went too.

Smelly lost no time.

He dove in the nearest sewer grate and off he swam.

Not uptown where the girl fell in,

but downtown where he knew the girl was headed.

Smelly swam fast and hard.

He took a left, then a right,

then another sharp right and then he waited.

The current was unbelievably strong,

but no girl.

Just then...

A twisting lump of tangled dress came swirlin'

round a corner.

Hit one wall, then the other,

and then it screamed at the top of its lungs

"Oooooo! This...is so much fun!!!"

Smelly caught the girl in his arms

as she whooshed past.

Heh, heh!

They were made for each other, right?

You could see it in their eyes.

And you could sure smell it with your nose.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Good thing they handed out clothespins at the wedding,

huh?

Hey, Maurice, about this dog of yours...

He may not be real to you, but he is to me.

If I believe he's real, then he's real.

And I believe. I really do believe!

Hey, I tried.

Our next story. [woof! woof!]

Huh!?

He missed his mommy.

I had to let him go.

Now, this is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine, Vern...

and his five-year-old kid, Charlie, eh - Charles.

Vern and his truck, Big Bertha,

were staking out the interstate waiting for

somethin' to happen.

He had his kid along, to sorta, you know,

show him the ropes.

Never can start 'em too young these days.

Anyhoo, it was young Charlie who spotted 'em first.

A bus load a kids were on a field trip to the

planetarium.

Anyhow, the bus driver, he musta been somewhere else

'cause when he took the cut-off he completely misses

the big sign that says: "Low bridge,

Maximum Clearance Six Feet."

And Whammo!

When they said "Maximum Clearance, Six Feet",

they meant it.

Vern revs up the engine on Big Bertha and gets his butt

down there as fast as he could.

To see if he could help, you know,

and maybe make a good buck on a tow.

Just to show his kid how it's done, you see.

The kids on the bus were okay,

thank goodness, you know and the driver,

wha-he was more embarrassed than anything,

but the bus was wedged in there like nothin'

Vern had ever seen.

I mean this was a real good one.

Vern tried and tried to get that sucker outa there.

Even Big Bertha couldn't tow out that bus.

It was well and truly stuck, my friend.

Like gum on the bottom of your shoe.

So Vern finally gives up and calls fire company

Number One, who responded in record time.

They, eh...they couldn't save Big Bertha, though.

A real shame.

So anyways, the firemen turned their attention to

the two dozen children, still trapped in the tunnel.

A leak in the fuel tank added a whole new wrinkle

to the problem.

See the kids couldn't get out.

And, if the firemen created a spark,

the fuel could ignite and...kablooie!

There'd be an explosion to end all explosions.

They decided they needed somebody higher up

to make that kinda call.

Vern and Charlie stood clear and soon the whole place was

swarming with cops, engineering experts,

and a slew of looky-loos.

Not to mention every major news station

in the tri-state area.

Within minutes, the whole country had its eyes

on the drama unfolding.

And with the press, a course...came the politicians.

I'm tellin' ya, they came like cockroaches

outa the wood works.

Well, the Mayor finally shows up and puts himself

personally in charge.

I mean, after all it was an election year,

and somethin' like this could make him a hero.

Heh, heh, heh.

All he needed was a simple solution, and soon!

He assured the crowd that everything was under control.

He and his "people" were gonna get everything right.

Those kids were gonna be fine.

And that's when Charlie decided to get in

on the action.

Charlie was a smart kid, ya see.

He noticed a lot o' things other people might miss.

Ya see Charlie had an idea, but the Mayor was far too

busy makin' sure that the press was impressed

with the job he was doin'.

He just said: "That's nice, now go find

something to do, kid!".

Well, things weren't gettin' any better,

so they decided to bring in the big guns.

The Mayor had clout, no doubt about it.

But brute force just wasn't gonna cut it.

The bridge looked like it might collapse at any moment.

That's when Charlie gave the Mayor another try.

Charlie tried to get a word in edgewise...again...but

the Mayor shut him down like a road closure.

"I thought I told you to go find something to do, kid!"

At first Charlie was a little hurt,

I mean, nobody was listening to him.

Then he got angry.

And then... he got even.

He walks right under the police line.

The Mayor yells: "Stop that kid!"

The police pulled out their bullhorns.

Vern even called out to him, but Charlie just went up to

the bus and stuck his lollipop in the pressure

release of the tires.

Everybody stops and stares.

I mean, what the heck was this kid up to?

In seconds those tires had gone flatter than a skunk in

the middle of the road.

And the bus was clear of the bridge.

Just like that.

And Charlie motions for the bus driver

to back the bus out.

Nobody could believe it...especially the Mayor.

Yup, Charlie was a hero.

And a few months later the news Mayor awarded Charlie

a key to the city, declaring it "Charles Day",

with free lollipops for everybody!

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Oh, ah, the former Mayor?

Heh, hee, well...

he had to go find something else to do.

Dear Larry, - this guy in Saint John's Newfoundland

writes - eh, someone told me Maurice used to be a

stand-up comic.

This can't be true, right?

Wrong.

In fact, we got some tapes of Maurice's act.

Roll the tape. Check this out.

My brother had his nose broken in three places.

I told him not to go to those places....

My brother plays piano by ear.

My father fiddles with his whiskers...

My father's so rich, he uses bookends for a money clip...

He's so old, his birthday cake had a hundred candles.

My father ate the candles.

He had a wick stomach!

So you see why Maurice's career as a stand-up comic

is history.

Old news.

Bygones. Adios. Toodle-loo...

You know what's worse than raining cats and dogs?

Hailing a taxi.

[LAUGHS]

Thank you!

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