03x20 - A Dingo Ate My Duncan

[bunniefuu]

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Chef: Gather round kids,

I've got something you'll hate.

It's a slide show of my weekend trip to Australia!

(All groan and grumble)

- Oh yeaaah, there's the hate.

- Wait, weekend trip?

It takes a whole day just to get there.

You'd have to fly back the second you landed.

- And that's exactly what I did.

Now here's slideshow is of my trip to Australiaaa's...

(clicks) airport!

Here's me posing with some wildlife... posters.

Here's me trying a grub sandwich,

me throwing up into the pouch of a stuffed kangaroo,

me finding out it's a real kangaroo,

me getting kicked through a gen-u-ine Australian wall.

And there I am back on the plane.

- That's it? Y'all didn't even leave the plane barn?

- Nope. Never left the airport.

But I bought one of these.

They call it a boom-o-rang.

(Muttering daze) - Bu-bu-boo-mer...ang?

(Wild laughter) Woo! Weee! Woo-hoo!

- Duncan, no! Bad Duncan!

(Whooshes through air)

- (Groans) Now you've done it.

(Whooshes through air)

- Look, it's coming back this way!

OOF! (Groans)

- It's like it read my mind.

- See, Duncan?! Boomerangs are VERY dangerous!

Just a few more throws and we're taking it back inside.

- I can't remember anything.

- It's fine. You didn't know anything.

- (Throwing grunt) Ah!

- I should be angry right now,

but I've taken on the Australian mantra:

No worries, mate.

(Whooshes through air)

(Hard thud) MY CAR!

Ohhh now I got worries!

(Whooshes through air) Cody: OOF! (Groans)

- Duncan, my office! Now! - Hm.

(Whooshes through air)

OOF! Ow. (Groans)

- Ou, now we can try! Heh.

(Whooshes through air)

- OW! OOF! (Groans)

- I wonder why it always hits Cody.

- Quit hoggin' it. We all wanna hurt Cody.

(Whooshes through air)

- Enough!

Lightning won't let you hurt this poor little boy.

Boomerang, you just got yourself a time out!

(Whooshes through air)

Cody: OOF! (Groans)

- Oooo sorry, Cody. Here, I got this.

(Metal clangs)

- AHHHH!

- There y'go, Cody. Just hold that ice pack

and you'll be okay. - Thank you, Lightning!

- This is all Duncan's fault.

I hope Chef punishes him good.

- Class, I have an announcement.

Duncan liked my slide show so much

he decided to move to Australia

as part of a student exchange program.

- He just up and went to Australia?

- Allegedly, yes.

And in his place we will be hosting... um,

Dincin.

- G'day, everyone. I'm Dincin, I am.

How ya going?

(Eerie music)

- I know what you're thinking.

How could Dincin already be here

if it's a hours flight? Well, he left yesterday.

So if you were thinking about it, stop. Right now.

- Thinking about what? - Good job, Cody.

And ignore that Dincin looks exactly like Duncan too,

because he isn't Duncan.

- Well of course Dincin ain't Duncan.

- Yeah, their names are different.

- And Dincin talks WA-Hayyy too weird to be Duncan.

- Mmm. Lightning's not so sure.

- Yes you are. Play nice!

- Cody, let's run a little Duncan test on this guy.

- Okee-dokee.

- Hello... DUNCAN!

- That's a wee blunder there, mate,

I'm "Dincin". - Right.

So anyway, wouldn't you rather dig an escape tunnel?

- Or hook me on the ceiling fan by my underwear?

(Underwear snaps)

- Oooo. That sounds like fun. Huh?

- No it does not.

Making teachers happy is how Australian kids have fun.

- Okaaaaay...

What part of Australia are you from?

- North... Kangaroo... Town.

- That sounds real.

- Yeah. Maybe he is legit.

- Hey, I have a cousin I hate in Australia.

Where exactly is North Kangaroo Town?

- I'd be happy to show you on a map.

Follow me please.

- (Playful laughter, light thud)

- Okay children! Allow me to introduce

another Aussie exchange student. Gwin!

- Hillo. I'm Gwiiin.

My hobbies include being obedient.

And that's all.

- Uh...

- And before you all start saying she looks like Gwen...

she doesn't!

Alright. I'll tell you the truth,

but you can't tell the kids.

I went to Australia... for a reason.

- Psst. Over here, mate.

- You got the mind control devi--

I mean, mind-make-better devices?

- Yep. These bad boys will turn the baddest boy

into an angel on the barbie.

They were designed to turn Tasmanian Devils into butlers,

but they'll work on a kid.

- I'll take one, please.

- They come in packs of twelve. Take it or leave it.

- But-- Fine. I'll take it.

- You got... the payment?

- One bottle of pure maple syrup.

- Crikey!

One more thing.

Keep them necklaces away from magnets, or they'll--

- Yeah-yeah, you got your syrup.

Listening to boring instructions wasn't part of the deal.

I was just gonna use one necklace, on Duncan,

but Gwen started asking questions.

What was I supposed to do. But that's it.

Two kids. Done.

- Hey, "Gwin". So where in Australia are you fr--

- North Kangaroo Town.

I can confirm that's a real place.

Just ask me and I'll tell you.

- Is it a real place? - It is.

- Her story checks out.

- Say, Cody. Would you like to be my mate?

- What's that? - It means friend.

- Okay. Aaand what's that?

- I'd like to be your friend.

- Huh. I've never heard those words in THAT order.

- Something smells good in here. (Timer digs)

- That'd be these.

Gator cookies!

I made them for Chef, but you can try one.

(Energy zapping)

- Mmm, gator biscuits.

- Hey! Hands off, fart face!

- Huh?

- Help ya'self, Sugar. - Duncan?!

Is that you in there? - Ha. I knew something was up.

Now they'll go talk to Chef and get this all sorted out.

- Lightning, Cody... meet Suggah, Ewwwin, and Ozzy.

They're also exchange students

and definitely not anyone else we might know.

Both: G'daaaaay.

- Guten tag! I'ma frum Austray'leeah!

- Whooaaa-kaaaay.

Let's get you back to my office and try and different one.

- A different what? Owen pops right up into his

- We're about to play a good ol' Aussie-rules game called...

clean the school. Wanna join us?

- Ohhh, that sounds like fun--

- NO. No we do not.

- Suit yourself, mate.

- Do kids clean for fun?

Nuh-uh, never! Something is going down

and we're gonna get to the bottom of it. Right, Cody?

CODY?

- Now I get it! Cleaning IS fun!

Hey, you all have the same necklace.

Cool. Can I have one?

- You don't need a necklace, Cody. You're already nice.

- Cody! Get away from them!

All: A non cleaner!

- This bloke on the other hand might need a necklace.

Come on, we have one for you in Chef's office.

- You ain't stuffin' me down under!

- (Growls) - Come on, Cody!

Aussie rules!

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- OOF!

OOF!

- Yeah, touchdown!

- Way to open all those doors with my face!

- One of us a-roo, one of us a-roo!

- Looks like they got me...

- Too bad they don't have more cleaning to do.

- Cleaning? Cody, you're a genius!

Keep making a mess

and they won't be able to resist cleaning it!

All: One of us a-roo.

(Object whoosh)

All: One of us a-roo!

No worries. No worries.

No worries.

- Uh-oh. We're cleaned out!

Cody, I'm gonna be brainwashed!

But I want you to remember that I was always your mate.

(Clanging)

- I'll save you, Lightning!

- Cody, no!

(Whooshes through air) - Ow-ow-ow.

Magnets, not you too.

- (Gasps) The magnets.

(Energy zapping)

Sugar: MMMM! Gator biscuits.

- Hands to yourself, fart face.

- The magnets, Cody!

The magneeeeets!

All: One of us a-roo!

- Don't worry, I'll put them back.

- No! Throw them at the Aussies!

All: One of us a-roo!

- THROW THEMMMMMMMM!

- OKAY, LIGHTNING!

All: One of us a-roo!

(Energy zapping)

(Landing thud)

- Why do my cheeks hurt? Was I smiling?!

- And my hands... was I cleaning?!

- Just look at this place!

- Hurry, put all the filth back where it belongs!

(Splat)

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- Cody... you saved me.

- Of course. It's way better to have one real friend

than a bunch of mind-washed ones.

Even I know that. - Thanks, buddy.

- What're we gonna do about Chef? He'll be mad.

- I know just how to handle that.

My fellow students, allow me to introduce our new,

much nicer foreign exchange teacher... Chif.

- G'day, joeys and jillies.

I'm Chif, your new teacher from down undaaah.

Who wants boomerangs and pizza?

(Boomerang whooshes through air)

All: PIZZAAAAA! YEAH!

- Oh Chif, you really are the bes--

OOF! (Groans)

Lightning: Aw, mannnn.

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