08x06 - Zero Vegetables

[bunniefuu]

[Whirring]
[Theme music plays]

[Thunder rumbles]
[Evil laughter]

[Whirring]

Man: It's alive!

[Thunder rumbles]

Yay, Skip-it is fun!

You're skipping it too fast!

Aah, I can't slow it down!

Aah, aah!
Please help me!

- Aah!
- Ew, I'm sorry!

Miss Steele, Mr. Pennybags
is ready to be interviewed.

To what do you owe
your success?

Easy.
I have all the orange money.

Whee!

[Laughs]

[Chuckles nervously]
I've got what I need.

[Elevator dings]

[Moaning]

Baltic. Oriental, water works...

are my sexual preferences.

Care to take a chance,

or would you rather go...
directly to jail?

- What are these things?
- I have very singular tastes.

They're butt plugs...
for your park place.

No! [Gasps]
I'm always the racecar!

Oh, I'm gonna make it rain
all over your community chest!

If things get too hot, can I use
my "get out of jail free" card?

Roll the dice and find out.

- I can't. My hands are tied up.
- Eh, too bad.

I could used some help getting
this racecar out of my ass.

I love dancing!
[Music]

Whee!

From now on, dancing is illegal!

Hey, everybody!
Let's dance!

[Music]

I was wrong.
Dancing is legal again!

- Aah!
- Aah!

- Aah!
- Let's da...

Mistakes were made.
Dancing is illegal yet again.

Oh, Mrs. Butterworth, may I
have some more syrup, please?

Sure, Billy.
Pop my top!

[Giggles]

Oh, yeah, Billy.

You like when Mrs.
Butterworth get sticky

all over your flapjacks?

I want to see my gooey sweetness

caked all over your mouth, Billy.

Mm-hmm. That's it.

Oh. Ohhh!

- Uh, t-thanks, Mrs. Butterworth?
- No, Billy.

Thank you.

Let's be firm this time.

The fate of the "Transformers"
franchise depends on it.

Mr. Bay, p-please put on some pants.

I hear you have some issues
with the script for "T ".

Uh, yes. Well, the
uh, the pe-pe-pe...

uh, the story seems rather nonsensical.

I approved these changes myself.
See, this scene here,

Prime reveals he's from
the Planet Magnetron.

But Optimus Prime is from Cybertron.

No, I explain all that here.
He arrived on Cybertron as a boy.

- Autobots aren't ever children.
- And met the Autobots in high school.

There are no high schools on ...

And he invented transforming
in metal shop.

- That's absurd!
- And he holds the patent,

so the Decepticons
owe him a lot of money.

That, Mr. Bay, that's enough!
We at Hasbro ...

Mr. Bay, please. My sinuses.
Ooh!

Mr. Bay, I must protest!
[Ice rattles]

- Mr. Bay, p-please. Please...
- Martini, gentlemen?

- We are not in a festive mood.
- More for me.

[Slurping]

We at ... we have no
further notes. Thank you!

You know, Mortimer, people always ask me

"Where do you get the balls to
make movie that [bleep] awesome?!"

And I always respond "not balls.

To make movies this [bleep] awesome,

you need a prehensile penis."

[Music]

Aah!

Shark BJ!

[German accent] Yeah, what is it, Fritz?

Yeah. So, first of all, heil h*tler.

Second of all, I left half
a sandwich in the fridge

that was clearly labeled
with my name on it,

- and now it's gone.
- Eh, that happens.

Ya, ya, it does happen,

but this is like the third
time in two weeks, so...

Are you accusing the Fuhrer
of stealing your sandwich?

No, no, no, no.
I am not accusing anybody,

Commander Himmler, but I know

only the three of us use that fridge,

and... [chuckles] I did not steal
my own half-sandwich.

- Then clearly Himmler took it.
- Mein Fuhrer!

Respectfully, I did
not take the sandwich.

Then, by process of elimination,
you're saying I took the sandwich.

Well, it was you or me,
and I know it wasn't me.

- So...
- Fritz, be honest.

Which of us is more likely
to have stolen your sandwich?

Well, let me ... Hmm.

Keep in mind that only one
of us m*rder*d million Jews.

- Yes. Exactly.
- What do you mean, "yes, exactly"?

I m*rder*d million Jews.
Clearly I'm a good person!

I wouldn't steal a sandwich!

I need to tread really carefully here.

Should I have not
m*rder*d million Jews?

- You absolutely should have.
- Murdering Jews is good.

So anyone who murders
Jews is good, right, guys?

Again, I really, really want to
think about my choice of words.

Fritz! What do you think?
Am I a good person?

[Laughing]
I mean, I mean, good and evil ...

- it's all relative.
- p*ssy.

Well, historically
speaking, m*rder... is bad.

- Not always!
- No, no, no.

Just in a general
broad-stroke kind of way.

What about murdering
turkeys to eat them?

Is that bad?
Did you think about that

while you were making your
turkey sandwich, Fritz?

Does making a turkey sandwich
make you a bad person?

I never said it was a... turkey sandwich.

I-I ...
I admit it.

I stole your sandwich, Fritz.

Therefore, I am a bad person.

Therefore, a bad person
k*lled million Jews.

Therefore, maybe k*lling
million Jews was wrong!

What have I done?!

Mein Fuhrer, only a bad person
would k*ll million Jews,

but only a good person
would feel bad about it.

Danke, Fritz.

Ah, come on.
Are we bringing it in?

Oh, we're bringing it in.

_

__

_

Moving is always scary,

especially if your new
house holds a dark secret.

Submitted for the approval
of the midnight society,

I call this story...

_

Approval denied!

Every story must begin
with "the tale of..."

You're not Hemingway.
Stick to the [bleep] format.

[Groans]
Submitted for the approval

of the midnight society...

"The tale of home sweet home"?
Ugh! I'm sorry.

I thought we were telling ghost stories,

not pitching new
aromas to yankee candle.

- Gary!
- Oh, so I'm the bad guy, right?

- You know what?
- Put the salt down, Gary!

I started the midnight
society. I can end it!

Oh, wow! Gary's on fire!

God, this burns!
Why won't anyone help me?

Does anybody have a blanket?!

The eighth wonder of the world!
Kong!

[Kong growls]
[Music plays]

[Grunting musically]

Wiggins, did you walk Kong like I asked?

Uhh...

[Grunting continues]

Aah!

[All screaming]

[Moans]

Wiggins, you are so [bleep] fired!

[Babbling]

Oh, my sweet daughter, Betty.

What is there to be done with you?

Uncle Sammy, Susanna sad ass is back.

Should I tell her to
[bleep] the hell off?

No, Bitch Pudding. [Chuckles]
Send her in.

[yelling] Susanna!!!

I'm sorry, Reverend.

Dr. Griggs said that her sickness
may be the result of...

unnatural causes.

My daughter's illness is
not supernatural, Susanna.

Yeah [bleep] the hell on off.

Everyone's saying there's
witchcraft all around,

running their [bleep] sucking
mouths about spells and sh*t?

And what am I supposed to tell them?

That Tituba forced my daughter and niece

to cavort with spirits in the forest?

Psh! There weren't no spirits out there.

Then what was going on?

- Show your tits!
- Whoo! [Laughs]

Yeah! You crazy, girl.

[Glass shatters]
Yeah!

Nothing.

There can be no doubt that
witchcraft is at play in this town!

Dirty, filthy witchcraft!

Ms. Pudding, would you give
your account of what happened?

It wasn't no whack-ass witchcraft.

You see? Just stupid
little girls having fun.

Stupid?
[Clears throat]

He's right.
We were just having fun...

♪ with the devil! ♪

[Spectators murmur]
Oh, Christ.

It was horrible, Mr. Hale.
Tituba was dancing with the devil,

and I'm not saying I saw anything,

but I'm pretty sure he penetrated her.

- All right.
- In the fart blaster!

Ugh!
Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.

Yeah, yeah.
[Imitates fart]

Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
Mm-hmm. Uh, yes.

I also saw Goody Putnam
dancing with the devil.

[Spectators gasp]
Yes. In the fart blaster?

And the halibut hole!

Right after she refused to give me

a couple bucks to buy candy.

Hmm. Who else?
Who else?

[Groaning]

Stop! She's lying!

She's trying to get
revenge on my husband

because he won't lay with her anymore!

- And what proof have you?
- I managed to capture them doing it.

Man: [gasps]
Photograph?

She's a witch!

[Laughs]

And she's a girl who had sex!
Get her!

Uh-oh.

[Indistinct talking]

At least I can rest
easy knowing that lying

harlot Bitch Pudding
will burn alongside me.

I'm not Bitch Pudding!
I'm Betty!

My awful cousin knocked
me out in the bathroom,

and now I'm here!

Then where's Bitch Pud...
[Screams]

[Clears throat] This has been
Arthur Miller's "the Crucible".

Remember, kids, write a
shitty, thinly veiled metaphor

for McCarthyism, and
you, too, can stick your

limp-ass candle up Marilyn
Monroe's wind tunnel.

Copyright Elton John
and Bernie Taupin.

Peace!

[Chicken clucking theme song]

- Ba-gok!
- Man: Bok.

[Monkey chatters]

[Chatters]
[Slap!]