01x18 - I Predict Horror; Destroy Chickie D!

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Monsters vs. Aliens". Aired: March 23, 2013 - February 8, 2014.*
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American computer-animated television series based on the 2009 DreamWorks Animation film of the same name.
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01x18 - I Predict Horror; Destroy Chickie D!

Post by bunniefuu »

♪ MVA ♪
♪ MVA ♪


♪ Monsters vs. Aliens ♪

♪ It's us vs. them ♪

♪ Foe vs. friend ♪

♪ Brain vs. B.O.B. ♪

♪ It's a super-freaky job ♪

Oh, yeah, it's freaky.

♪ MVA ♪

♪ Monsters vs. Aliens ♪

♪ Monsters vs. Aliens ♪
[cackles]


♪ Monsters vs. Aliens ♪

♪ MVA ♪

Behold... the predictacator!

I'm gonna guess... it predicts things?

Precisely. Infused with every
conceivable variable imaginable,

the predictacator will make
% accurate prognostications.

So it could predict, I don't know,
what I'm getting for my birthday?

Or who wins the next world series?

Or this week's lottery numbers?!

You see where I'm going with this?
Ah cha-ching.

Absolutely. The predictacator
will tell us all that and more.

Uh, if... if I can find it.

- Find what?
- The predictacator, B.O.B.

It was sitting right here.

Uh, all I saw was a pink donut,
which, heh, tasted a little weird.

Was it gluten free or something?

- B.O.B., you just ate...
- Breakfast for dinner!

[laughs] Hey, you put
a donut in front of me,

and, by golly, I am going to eat it!
No apologies. [loud burp]

Did you see that coming?

Did you see it... did you see it coming?

Ten years of painstaking research,

and it ends up dissolving
away in B.O.B.'s belly.

You're taking it well.

Baaaah!

Kinda well.

Wow. Dr. C is a really
mad scientist now.


Him? What about me?
Color me disappointed, B.O.B.

I was going to make a
fortune off that thing.

- Aww, Link.
- What?

- You're going to hug a t*nk.
- I'm going to hug a wha... uhh!

You okay, buddy?

[whimpering]

That t*nk hugged you pretty hard.

"Hugging" isn't
the word I'd use, B.O.B.

It was... aah!
Just like you predicted!

Maybe it was just a coincidence?

No way.
It was the real psychic deal.

Come on, buddy.
Tell us who wins the next world series.

I see...

Tonight's episode of Senator
Chimp, NYPD will be a... repeeeat!

Okay, starting small.
We'll build.

So, B.O.B., what am I
getting for my birthday?

No, wait!
I don't want to know.

Okay, maybe I do.
No! Don't tell me!

Tonight's dinner...
will be tater casseroooole!

Pfft. I never get what I want.

And tomorrow's lunch will be
some kind of curly pastaaa.

Rotini?
Fuseli?

Ah, it's hard to say.
It's a little fuzzy there.

Ah, I see what's going on here.

B.O.B. can only predict the
future for the next hours.

That's all the future he got

before he fully digested
the predictacator.

- And what happens after hours?
- He goes back to normal B.O.B.

What? Only a day?!

There's got to be a least
one pro game B.O.B. can predict.

Miami versus Cleveland.

Canceled on account of... raaaain.

Nooo!

Pete.
You will get a phone call tonight!

Don't answer it!
It's a telemarketeeer! [shouting]

Coverton!
I have a prediction for yooou!

You will enter a secret rooom!

- You predict the future now?
- Yeah. Yeah.

Just... just for a day.
I mean, daaay.

Here's a prediction:

I see myself scooting away
from a brain-free doofuuus.

Ohh, good for Amy!

- She deserves it.
- Amy? Who is...

[Monger on PA]
Congratulations to Amy Crevino!


You're area -something's
employee of the month!


Report to me for your
free Pita King gift card.


Wait a minute. How
did you know that...

Um, don't want to float there, buddy.

What difference does it...
Ohh! [growls]

This is an outrage!
If there is to be employee of the month,

it shall be Staaa'aaabi!

[growling]

[groans weakly]

You can predict the future!

So, B.O.B., you say you
have a prediction for me?

Yes. I see you entering
a top secret room.

- Only General Monger goes there.
- R-really? Do tell.

It's called the ultimate w*apon room?

Ultimate w*apon room?

Ultimate w*apon room?
Are you sure?

Shyeah.
I think I know how to read.

Uh, the future.

Yes, yes, you do.
Uh, what do you see after that?

Out with it, man! Come on.

I see you wearing a golden crooown!

Ooh hoo hoo. Like a king?

I see people bowing before yooou!

[squeals] I'll be royalty.

And then...
much pain and suffering!

Yes! There will be pain and
suffering for all my subjects.

- Anyhoo, that's all I got.
- More than enough.

Let's go get that ultimate w*apon.

Tater casserole.
Just as B.O.B. predicted.

I don't get what's the big deal.

Just make another
predictacator. We'll get rich!

Perhaps this all
happened for a reason.

Maybe there are some things
man is not meant to know.

Man, yes.
But what about fish-man, I ask you?

He's tough, greedy... I mean gritty.
Come on, Doc!

Link, knowing ruins
the surprise of living...

Just like Susan's birthday conundrum.

Okay, you brought it up,
so I'm just gonna say it:

I want a sparkly,
impractical birthday gift.

Like... like a bedazzled
cupcake or something.

Not a video game that you actually want!

You said you liked
Max Mayhem : Ultimate Mayhem.

And not a box of cotton swabs.

It was a practical gift!
You have an ear wax issue...

especially when you're Ginormica.

Uh...
I have to go clean... something.

- Your ears?
- Whatever!

Then I see us turning a corner,

and you squealing in a high-pitched,
embarrassing kind of way.

Squealing? That's hardly my...

[squeals]

- Told ya.
- U.W.R.

Those initials must stand for
"ultimate w*apon room"!

Whoa, whoa. Wait, buddy!

That hallway is loaded
with secret booby traps!

Of course. Monger wouldn't
leave the ultimate w*apon

where any Tom, d*ck, or Klangnarg
could just walk away with it.

[chuckles]

Oh, all-seeing B.O.B...

Do you suppose you could
predict the traps for me?

- I totally see me doing that!
- Excellent. [chuckles]

Make way for King Coverton the First,
ruler of the planet Earth!

Which I may rename "Covertown."

- Coverton?
- No, Covertown.

- "Covertoid."
- Covertown.

- "Owverton."
- You know what? Never mind.

- "Cow versus Tongs."
- I said never mind, B.O.B.!

Let's just get this coronation started.

- Now, you'll warn me before I...
- Freeze!

[shuddering]

"Ray" is the next
word I was going to say.

A freeze ray is going to hit you.
Curse my dramatic...

pauses!

[groaning]

Yes.
Curse them.

[grunts]

Perhaps I wasn't clear, B.O.B.

I need you to tell me about the traps,

all the traps, before they happen.

- Got it?
- Got it!

Well, you got the freeze ray...
you saw that one.

Then the floor drops out.

Then, it's just me,
but I would not inhale

that blast of knock-out gas.

- And that's it?
- Pretty much.

Excellent.
Let's begin.

- Freeze ray dodged.
- Now the floor drops.

What need have I of a
floor when I have my hover...

[screaming]
Ohh!


Forgot about
"whatever that thing is."

I sincerely mean it when I say "whoops."

[grunting and panting]

Anything else?

I wouldn't breathe that knock-out gas.

Right!

Ppuhh!

Personally, I think it's much worse
than the puke-your-guts-out gas.

Puke-my-what?

[gasping]

Did I forget to mention that one too?

- Yes! [retching]
- Silly me.

Works as advertised, right?

[vomiting]

Doc?

El doctore?

You here?
Good.

If he won't make me a new
predictacator, then I will.

How hard can it be?

[liquid sloshing]

Nice.
Now, add a little bit of this.

Aah! Oof!

And we didn't even
need the predictacator

to know this would happen.

Indeed.
Link, you are quite predictable.

[grunting]

The golden crown will be mine!

Do not go insiiide!

Wait. What do you mean?
You said I would get a golden crown!

People would bow down!
Pain and suffering and pain!

You will definitely get a crown
and all that if you go in.

But I'm just saying,
you really shouldn't.

Let me phrase this
so even you understand:

Get out of my way,
you insipid jiggle bag!

At last... the ultimate w*apon is mine.

An automaton that will
conquer the Earth for me.

All bow before King Coverton!

[laughing maniacally]

Last time!
I really think you should leave.

Silence!

Ultimate w*apon robot,
I command you to do my bidding.

[whirring and clanking]

Ultimate Whoopin' Bot activated.

Uh, "whoopin'"?
You mean "w*apon."

No. Whoopin.
Let's wrestle.


Say what to who now?

[grunting and shrieking]

Oh, "whoopin'," not "w*apon."
[laughs]

Well... close.

Ha! Oh, man.

[grunting]

No, it's not remotely cl...

Aah! Ohh... oh, boy.

[growls]
Warm-up routine completed.


Initiating pummeling protocols.

No, don't initiate...

[shrieking]

You dropped this.

Why would Coverton mess with
my personal wrestlin' trainer?

It's too dangerous.

That's why I've got all those
traps to keep people out.

You'd think B.O.B.
could've warned the guy.

I mean, with those powers,
he must've seen this coming.

See, Link? Predicting
the future isn't all that.

Yes, I'm sure Coverton agrees.

See, buddy?
Just like I predicted:

He's bowing down to you as
he puts the golden crown...

on your tooth!

[muffled]
That's not what I was promised!


Don't forget the pain and suffering.

[drill whirring,
Coverton screaming]

Oh, did I call it or whaaat?

, , .

Ooh, feel the burn.

[grunting] The only
person you're cheating

is yourself, Coverton.

Yeah!
Hit the pool for some laps.

Best exercise there is.

[slurps]
Oops. Need a refill.

[grunts]

Ah, too far away.

[upbeat music]

[squeak]

[laughing]

Stop that noise, blob!

You are disturbing my
lifting of heavy things.

Get used to it, Sta'abi.

B.O.B. likes watching TV
on the treadmill.

What are ya gonna do?

It makes him feel like
he's walking into the picture.

Ooh, guys! I'm in the
best chicken restaurant ever!

Even the commercials.

Male announcer: [on TV]
Get your chicken on


at one of seven Chicky Ds
chicken shack locations!


Impossible.

Announcer: Ginormous portions!
Free wet-naps!


Complimentary bone buckets!
It's all at Chicky Ds!


We'll see ya there.

"Chik...ee-Dees"?

[wailing]
Chik-ee-Dee!

That sounds like the cry for chicken.

I'll answer that.
Just let me towel off and...

Ohh!

What was that about?

Ptuh! My theory:
My male awesomeness has stirred strange,

new feelings in our little Sta'abi.

What?
You've seen my pecs. Check it.

[grunts]

[exhales]

[alarm droning]

Stand down, Sta'abi.

Can't have you out here,
raisin' a ruck... hey!

[grunting and shrieking]

Somebody stop that alien!
And by somebody, I mean my Monsters!

Sta'abi, come back!

Look, if this is about the treadmill,
you can use it if you want.


Okay, guys, time for some soccer!

Goooaaal!

Ooh!

Gotcha!

Okay Sta'abi,
everything's gonna be...

[chomp]
Ow! She's biting my finger!

Release me!
I must destroy this "Chik-ee-Dee"!


Chicky D?
Like the chicken shack Chicky D?

Just such a giant fowl
bird att*cked my home world.

Peck-peck-pecking everything!

I still remember his
chilling battle cry.


- Cock-a-doodle-do?
- How did you know that?


Sta'abi, Chicky D isn't from space.
He's a restaurant mascot.


That there is a cosmic
menace of similar physique


is nothing more than an
astronomically improbable coincidence.


No! It is space chicken!

And I will have my Ragma'thooth.

- "Ragma'tooth"?
- Ragma'thooth!


Is that anything like Growl'nkoot?

Eh, is more like Vrana'deet.
Or maybe Amaba'ti?

Ohh, Amaba'ti.
Say no more.


Anyway, I will have my Ragma'thooth,

Vrana'deet, and Amaba'ti,
all on Chik-ee-Dee!

Sta'abi, until you face reality,

all you're gonna have is
standard issue prison eats!

Mm, will there be pudding for dessert?

Butterscotch.
We aren't animals.


Do not forget the spoon.

[slurp] Uck!

There is no meat in pudding?
Loser food.

Chik-ee-Dee!
You will taste my Ragma'thooth!

And maybe some Vrana'deet too!

Astounding.
Sta'abi tunneled first to the armory,

retrieved her w*apon...

then to her locker for
a change of clothes...

then to the mess hall,

where she destroyed our
entire stock of pudding...

Why the butterscotch?
Why?!

[sobbing incoherently]

...before tunneling out of the base.
And all with this.

She's off to destroy
that roadside rooster.

Which one? Aren't there are
like seven Chicky Ds in the area?

Put out an A.P.B. on Sta'abi.
I want to know if anyone sees her.

Hut hut hut hut hut
hut hut hut hut... hyuh!

[snarling]

Sta'abi's gone?
Aww.


I was bringing Vorn for a visit.

Maybe he can track Sta'abi.

Link! B.O.B.!
Take the mega-mutt and find her!

Both: Aye-aye, Gen... whah!

Susan, get on the interwebs
and yodel, or goggle...

or... uh... whatever they call it!

We'll hit every Chicky Ds in the state.

Way ahead of you, General.
Got 'em all mapped out.

- Great. Hop on.
- You're kidding, right?

You got a better idea
how to cover that much territory?

Fine.

[all shouting]

Ah. Full moon, full t*nk of fuel.

Perfect night to hunt
me down a fugitive.

You're really excited by
the thought of a manhunt.

- It's vaguely creepy.
- Good.

Okay, then...

"The chicken will blow you away"?

You dare mock Sta'abi?

miles down Route ...
to Chik-ee-Dee's doom.

General Monger! Come in, over.
I just found...

[snarling]

It's a nice night...
for a drive, over.

Yeah, thanks for letting us know.
Over. That was pointless.


General! There it is!

The highway Chicky Ds!

You gotta tell your order into
the chicken beak around back.

- At ease, citizen.
- Speak into the beak.

[chicken beak clucking]

Listen up, Government
needs intel, pronto.

Would you like tater wedges or
deep fried root beer with that?


We just need to know if you've
seen anything weird tonight.

[scoffs] You're flying a jet pack
in the drive-thru.


That's pretty weird.

I'll take that as a negatory.

- Off to the next Chicky Ds!
- General, wait!

You can deep fry root beer?
For reals?

- Sta'abi was here.
- Nice deduction, Sherlock Boneless.

Route . That's just over...

No, not agaaain!
[indistinct shouting]


Mmm! Mmm!

They totally found a way
to deep fry root beer.

Seriously, you should try this.

Negative. It's unnatural.

[on radio] Susan!

Sta'abi's heading for
the Chicky Ds on Route !


[grunting]

Repeat, Route !

[grunting]

Roger that, Link!

Chik-ee-Dee!

At last I have found you!

Awake, Chik-ee-Dee!
Face your Ragma'thooth!

Seriously?
You are going to be this way?

Hey! Stop pretending you
can't hear Sta'abi. It is rude!

[whooping]

[slurping] Oh, Sta'abi.

Down, Vornicarn!

Now is the time for me
to destroy this foul fowl!

It's just a statue.
And a bad one.

Ragma'thooth!

Ragma'thooth!
Ragma'thooth!

That is private property!

[both shout]

Ohh! [gulp]

Ragma'thooth.

Ragma'thooth.
Ragma'thooth.

Sta'abi! Stand down!

Or you're going to have to
answer to the Chicky D company!

Ragma'thooth!
[munching]


Daah!

We're gonna need one
doozy of a cover story.

Better think of something good,
because Sta'abi's not leaving

- till she fights that chicken.
- So let's give her a fight.

You got a crazy, ridiculous,
borderline-bonkers plan, don't you?

- Yep.
- Frankly,

I'm not comfortable with any other kind.

- Right. B.O.B., distract Sta'abi.
- Love it!

Hey, Sta'abi. Guess who?

[shatters]

I'm blue, see-through,
and smell like candy.

- Away, blob!
- Whoa!

It's "B.O.B.," not "blob."
Common mistake. Heh heh.

All right... crazy, ridiculous,
borderline-bonkers plan is a go!

[crashing]

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

[screeching and yipping]

Chick-ee-dee.
At last you wake.

Now I have the Ragma'thooth!

Sta'aaaabi!

[clucking]

Oww! [groans]

Oh, dear!
We were so wrong!

That statue really was the terrible

intergalactic chicken,
Chick-ee-Dee!

Oh, good point, Link.
Yeah, Susan is the big chicken!

In that, uh...
for not helping Sta'abi fight


the terrible chicken, Chick-ee-Dee!

Sta'abiii!

[gasps]
You will fall, space fowl!

Uhh! We're crossing
that border into bonkers...

All of this is just another
commercial for Chicky Ds.

Heh.
Didn't corporate tell you?

[laughs, slurps soda]

[clucking]

Ow! I mean...

Bawk!

Now is the time of the Vrana-deet!

Gah... ahh...
ah-ah-ah!


Time to wrap this up.

[shouting]

Gah!

- Yeah!
- Yay! Yay!

Sta'abi did it!
She saved us from Chick-ee-Dee!

Hey, hey! Come, Vornicarn.

Chick-ee-dee is vanquished.

[slurps]

Ugh.
This was good Ragma'thooth.

I resolved many issues.
Feels good. Closure.

Now we can go back to base.

Great. I can only lie
to that guy for so long.

- Commercial?
- Yep! Commercial.

- So what about all the others?
- What others?

Well the other Chicky Ds.
There's like six other locations.

- Right, guys?
- No! Well, you see...

- The thing is, they're not really...
- More Chik-ee-Dees?

[snarling] Chik-ee-Dee!

Sta'aaaabi!

Oh, you go, girl! Heh.

What?
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