00x05 - New Year's Pete

[bunniefuu]

( grunting )

( party horn blowing )

Happy New Year,
young fella.

Toot my leg, Grandpa.

LITTLE PETE:
What's so happy
about New Year's?

( laughing out loud )

Everybody whooping it up,

getting elastic burns
on their chins, and for what?

You'd think by now,

14,000 cocktail wieners
into their lives,

they'd have figured it out.

New Year's Eve is a joke.

Take it from me.

Last year, I made my first
New Year's resolution ever.

I had to.

Grownups make such
a big stink about it.

Yup, I'm going to lose
those 20 pounds this year.

I'm going to improve
my hand strength.

( grunting )

I'm going to quit smoking.

This is my last one, I swear.

Talk about feeble.

If you're going
to change something,

I say change
something that matters.

Like... the world.

I didn't know
how I'd do it exactly;

all I knew was a Riley
Retro-Fire Jetpack was the key.

With a Riley, I could have
been a kid super hero,

flying wherever trouble took
me anywhere on the globe.

Instead, I ended up like this:

A pathetic blowhole
peddling his guts out

on a cruddy Stingray bike.

I just wanted
to change the world,

but after
a whole year of trying,

the only thing I changed
was my underpants.

Was I PO'ed?

( grunts )

You decide.

( rock intro playing )

? Hey, smilin' strange ?

? You're lookin'
happily deranged ?

? Can you settle to sh**t me? ?

? Or have you picked
your target yet? ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Don't you talk back ?
? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?
? Hey, Sandy ?

? Don't you talk back ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?
? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Don't you talk back ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy, hey. ?

As my stupid bike rolled away,
I thought back

on the whole stinking year.

Everybody kept asking me

how I was going to change
the world with just a jetpack.

I'd always say the same thing.

First of all,
"It's not just a jetpack.

It's a Riley Retro-Fire Jetpack
with submersible fuel pods."

Then I'd say, "Shut up."

Who knows what I'd do.

Maybe fix the hole
in the ozone layer,

or drop in on Peking
and talk world peace.

Whatever I did, the planet
would end up a better place

for all of God's creatures.

All I needed was $456.98.

Luckily, I had a plan.

It all started last February
when my brother Pete and I

went door to door
looking for work.

Instead of raking
the leaves, washing cars,

we had another
quality service to offer.

Check you out

for land mines, Mrs. Pule?

Land mines?

Did you say land mines?

For only $49.99,
we'll check the whole yard.

I don't think so, boys.

You can never be too safe when
it comes to land mines, ma'am.

I'll take my chances.

How about a free inspection?

Hello? Anyone in there?

I said I am not interested.

This won't take long.

Right, Inspector?

That could have been you

or one of your
loved ones, ma'am.

Will you take a check?

The free inspection
works every time,

especially if you
booby-trap the lawn first.

Satisfaction
is our guarantee.

Yeah, I don't know.

I'll have
to ask my husband.

Is he home?

No, I'm not married.

But as soon as I do meet
that certain special someone,

I'll be sure to ask him.

This isn't a joking
matter, ma'am.

One land mine can ruin
your whole day.

No, you're ruining my whole day.

Well, then you'll
be interested

in one of our
free inspections.

No.

We'll throw in
a complimentary lint brush.

N-O spells...

How soon can you start?

The plan was going perfectly
until Pete got sucker punched.

Sucker punched by puberty.

Land mines?

Why would anyone put
land mines in my yard?

You'd be surprised,
Mrs. Jacooti.

Maybe you'd like to peruse one
of our helpful brochures?

Well...

Hi, Ellen!

Hey,
Mrs. Jacooti.

Hi, Pete and Pete.

Ellen, watch out!

The yard is booby-trapped!

Booby-trapped?

( slow motion ):
Oh, no!

( grunts )
( screams )

( beeping )

Sorry, it's just that

we, Pete and me,

we buried a land mine
right over there.

It was worse
than a mine expl*si*n.

It was a hormone expl*si*n.

You risked your life for me.

Well, not really.

Actually, this suit
is completely bombproof.

It's made from a totally
revolutionary

new tunxton Mylar blend,
that makes it, uh... um...

Bombproof. I know.

Thanks anyway.

I didn't blame Pete
for what happened,

I blamed his glands.

Because of their
throbbing secretions,

things between us
will never be the same.

My best friend was gone and
there was nothing I could do.

If I only had
my Riley Retro-Fire Jetpack

with the tilt-action
stabilizer, I'd just

set the general compass
for the Amazon rain forest,

hit the ignition button
and nothing would stop me.

Nothing.

Stop.

Out of my way, grunge bag.

I'm on my way to save the world.

Saving the world begins
with pedestrian safety.

Blow it out
your nose hole, Frank.

What was that?

Blow... it...

out... your... nose... hole.

Scrape me sideways,
pip-squeak..

Not bad.

LITTLE PETE:
What a way to start the year.

I lost my best friend
to a girl.

But still, I hadn't lost hope.

After all, I did have my
very own personal super hero.

Artie, the
strongest man...

( grunts )

...in the world!

Not even Blanche
can harm Artie.

He's completely puberty proof.

With my new paper route
and his super human strength,

I'd have the jetpack money
in time

to kick evil's hairy butt
by the Fourth of July.

Hold on to your coffee,
Snorty Buttkins!

( grunting )

LITTLE PETE:
When we last left Artie,
the strongest man in the world,

he was just about ready
to help me with my paper route.

Look at the work, boy.

Look at the work.

( grunting )

ARTIE:
Ooh, ooh,
ooh, ooh, ooh.

( yells )

( gasps )

Ooh!

( body collapsing )

( sizzling )

( blowing )

Suddenly, I had an idea.

( snickering )

Buttkins goes down.

A brilliant idea.

Hey, Artie,
you ever done any bowling?

It was my best plan ever.

Dad's bowling team,
Cranson Spackle,

needed a sub
for their big match

against Lansing's Taco Palace.

I had just the guy they needed.

All I had to do was bet my wad
on Dad's team

and let Artie do the rest.

Where is he?

He'll be here.

Well, where does this guy live?

In a Port-A-John.
In a what?

( distant grunt )

Bowling.

( mumbling )

( laughing )

How about those Mets?

( laughs )

Ah! Free air.

( hums )

Pete, can I
talk to you?

Yeah, Dad?

What is that
mutant doing here?

You'll see.

( goofy grunt )

Once I wrote his name
in the space,

it was official.

There was no turning back now.

( goofy laugh )

While we're still young,
Poindexter.

What do you say?

To help him with his aim,

Artie built a telepathic
oral guidance system.

No batteries required,
just a hamster.

You just think
where you want the ball to go,

and the hamster takes over.

( grunts )

( wheel squeaking )
Oh, my... God....

( jubilant chuckle )

( cheering )
Yes!

( chuckling ):
Oh!

Over the next half hour,

Artie was as unstoppable
as a mud slide.

Oh... hoy!

( cheering )

Boo-hoo!
( startled
grunt )

Boo-hoo! Boo!

Say now.

Oof!

( making scratching noise )

( wheel squeaking )

( disapproving mutter )

He was a canary-yellow
juggernaut

of pure bowling thunder.

( men shouting )

Yeah! Yeah!

( quiet cheering )

( retching )

( wheel squeaking )

( chuckling ):
How's it going in there, fatty?

With one frame to go,

Artie just needed
one more strike to win it all.

Come on, you big beautiful
mutant. Come on!

Choke, you freak show. Choke.

( yelling )

( choking )

Come on, Artie.

Quit messing around.

( grunting )

( yelling )

Artie, the strongest man
in the world.

Yes?

I'm here to make you
a very lucrative offer.

Hmm... tasty sandwiches?

Even better.

Ooh!

( buzzer sounding )

Right this way.

LITTLE PETE:
I was cursed.

That guy in the monkey suit

was a scout from
the pro bowling tour.

He signed Artie on the spot

and just like that,
he was gone.

Playing in places like
Fondalake, Wisconsin,

and Beloxi, Mississippi.

The only place I ever saw him
after that was on TV.

( sniffing )

NEWSCASTER:
Who is this sensational
newcomer to the tour?

Let's take a time-out
and take a closer look.

Our story starts in the parking
lot of this Jiffy Lube

in a humble port-a-john
Artie calls home.

( laughs )

It's tingling.

LITTLE PETE:
Thanks to me,

Artie had become
this mondo-bowling superstar.

Great for him,
bad for mankind.

Instead of dropping in
on the White House

for a surprise powwow
with the President,

I was stuck doing the whole
paper route myself.

Even worse, I had to haul

this 98-pound Artie
special supplement every week.

What else could go wrong?

Out of my way, sash boy.

I don't have time for this.

There's always time
for pedestrian safety.

It was clear by now

that this guy
just didn't get it.

I had places to go.
Planets to see.

You know what this sash means,
Chief?

That you're a loser?

No.

It means I've taken a vow

to uphold the code
of the crosswalk.

Uphold this!

I tried to cross, but somehow,

I couldn't disobey the sign.

Not so fast, Chief.

Somebody's got to
teach you a lesson.

The sidewalk standoff
raged on into the evening.

Tell me, Frank,

do you take showers
with that sash on?

What's it to you, kid?

Near midnight, I tried
threatening his life,

but he didn't even flinch.

You know, Frank,

there are 22 ways
to k*ll a man.

Twenty-three.

By morning, I knew
I had met my match.

Evil had won this round.

Don't you ever go home?

No.

Want to know why?

Sure, uh...

if you let me cross.

Okay.

Sucker!

( mocking laugh )

Ooh, gullible.

Oh, man.

At that moment,

as I turned
to laugh in his face,

I saw Frank
for what he really was--

A lonely guy,
just trying to do his job.

You know, I never told anybody
about this before, kid.

sh**t.

All right.

Well, it was 11 years
ago, a Thursday.

I looked away
from the crosswalk

to light a smoke, you know?

No big deal, right?

Wrong.

A cat named Mr. Boots
crossed without looking.

He was wasted on catnip.

He never saw
the Ford Imperial coming.

( scoffs )

Roadkill pizza?

No, no.

It's close, though.

Too close.

It shook me up, kid.

I decided right then
that I would never

leave my post again, ever.

24 hours a day,
every day of the year.

Even Christmas?

Mm-hmm.

And New Year's Eve, too. Hmm.

Well, you know, I can't
celebrate much out here

all by myself, you know.

Besides, I've
got a job to do.

I can't take any chances.

Frank?

Hmm?

You need some help around here?

You?

Yeah, me.

I, Pete...

...solemnly swear to uphold
the code of the crosswalk.

I took the oath,

but instead of
pedestrian safety,

I began thinking
about my resolution.

It was already October,
and I hadn't changed squat.

I had to get that jetpack.

So while Frank slept,
I did what I had to do.

Come on, kid.

What's it take to cross
a street around here, huh?

( cash register rings )

$20?

That's extortion!
I won't pay it.

All right, all right.

Here. Here you go, you punk!

By early
afternoon,

I had complete control
of the crosswalk.

Most people obeyed
the power of the sign.

But one guy had to learn
his lesson the hard way,

( crowd murmuring )

( laughing and panting )

Going somewhere, Crankbait?

( whimpering )

Uh, hi, Frank.

Um, have a good sleep?

Any good dreams?

You let me down, kid.

You abandoned your post.

I was just over there.

Uh-huh. Give me that badge.

Give me that sign.

Drop that sash, kid.
You're fired.

I know Frank had trusted me,

but when you're
on a mission like mine,

a few people
are gonna get hurt.

All that mattered was,
I had the money.

After allowing
four to six weeks for delivery,

the world would
never be the same.

I tried to k*ll time
by practicing German

for my summit meeting
in Dusseldorf.

( man speaking German )

( speaking German )

MAN:
Bite my scab, blowhole...

But still, those weeks
crept behind like slugs.

Then on December 19, it came!

After everything
I'd been through,

the raw power of the Riley
was finally at my command.

( mailman whistling )

Whoa-oh!

Not that I was all that
excited or anything.

As I shredded the box,

I thought about how
I'd soon be spitting

in the face of evil everywhere,
just like Abe Lincoln.

Can you imagine
what Honest Abe could have done

with the Riley
Retro-Fire Jetpack?

History was in my hands

now that I had
my trusty, fuel-injected...

Leaf blower?

( engine sputtering )

No!

Those things at Riley

sent me this stupid
leaf blower by mistake.

That's when I knew the truth.

New Year's resolutions
were a joke.

For one night,
you get all wiggly

thinking about
changing everything,

but in the end,
you're just a feeb.

I tried, and what happened?

I lost everything:

my brother, my super hero,

and my dream.

All I had left
was this terrible feeling

that life was a lot

like my runaway bike:

a bumpy, out-of-control,

ride to nowhere.

If only grownups
could see it ride by,

maybe they'd understand

and stop bothering
with their puny resolutions.

I mean, if you think about it,

who in their right mind would
want to celebrate New Year's?

Suddenly, I knew who.

Frank.

Another year was over,

and he was still out there,
all alone.

Maybe I couldn't make the world
a better place for all mankind,

but at least I could make it
better for one person.

If I could only
get there in time.

Trouble ahoy.

( party horn blowing )

( wheels clacking )

( clacking )

Ten!

Nine!

Eight!

Seven!

Six!

Five!

Four!

Three!

Two!

One!

Stop.

Happy New Year!

( cheering )

I guess you're looking
for this, huh, kid?

No, I was looking
for you.

Oh, yeah? Why?

You need some quick cash?

I just wanted to tell you
something.

What, that I'm a blowhole, huh?

No, I just wanted to say,

well, I'm sorry,
and happy New Year!

Yeah, happy New Year's
to you, too, kid.

CROWD:
? ...for auld lang syne ?

? We'll take a... ?

Can I try that?

? ...of kindness yet... ?

( party horn blows )

? ...for auld lang syne. ?

( party horn blowing )

( distant party horns blowing )

( sighing )

So, what's your New Year's
resolution?

Smoking.

Are you going to quit?

Or smoke more?

I'm going to quit.

This is my last one, I swear.

What about you?

Still planning on
saving the human race?

Yeah. Why not?

I've got a whole year.

I'll think of something.