04x09 - Episode 9

[bunniefuu]

["Rule, Britannia!" playing]

*

- I knew I should have looked

before sitting.

Is there nowhere on God's good earth

I can find some privacy?

Or is it "pry-va-see"?

"Priv-a-see," "pry-va-see."

"Ee-ther," "eye-ther."

"Rah-ther," "ree-ther."

Whatever.

Oh, I need a friend.

I need a pal.

I need a buddy.

[harp music]

Buddy!

Yes!

Buddy!

[shrieking excitedly]

[ominous music]

[phone beeping]

- Ah. Yeah, Lanky Dean here.

Get me the editor's desk.

Hello, Tom?

How are you, you stupid old bird?

Good to hear it.

Listen, I can't say too much,

but I'm gonna need a ticket to NWT, Canada.

Right-- Northwest Territories?

What's that?

Well, set me up, okay?

Right. Ta!

Northwest Territories. Where is that?

Aw, no.

All that way? For what?

I've only got lines in this piece.

And there's five of them gone, already.

And I get buggered at the end.

[laughs]

Ah, but it's a good show; you'll see.

[sweeping orchestral music]

*

- Jeez, where did all that

snow come from?

Rebel, Sinbad, throw another

log on the fire, boys.

Oh, hello there.

And welcome to Chalet .

My northern home away from home.

This is a place where I come

to unwind from my hectic life in the south.

Whatever it is I do.

You may have noticed how dark it is outside,

even though it's just noon.

That's because today is Night Day.

both: Yay!

- Either the shortest day of the year,

or the longest night.

hours, minutes, and seconds of darkness.

Basically, a two-second day.

So you've got to be fast

if you want to get anything done.

[pounding on door]

Pietre?

- [grumbling]

- I'll get it.

[dramatic music]

*

- Where's the gin?

[gasping] Jacques, Francois!

Quelle surprise.

Happy Night Day.

Happy Night Day. - Happy Night Day, Buddy.

[bones crunching] - Ugh!

I haven't seen you two in ages.

- Yes, it has been too long, my friend.

- So what's this?

- We found this large block of ice,

ironically enough, while ice fishing.

- Oh? - This is ironic, you see,

because when you are ice fishing,

you are not actually fishing for ice.

But rather, fishing through the ice--

- For fish.

[laughter]

Let us tell you the story.

["Aloutte" playing] - Yes, we were out

at our ice-fishing hut on the lake...

- Jacques, I think I got something.

- Ah, let me have a look, Francois.

Ah.

It looks like you've caught a giant

block of ice, Francois.

- How ironic.

- Yes, because when you are ice-fishing,

you are not actually fishing for ice,

but rather, fishing through the ice--

- For fish.

[laughter]

- Let me help you.

- Quelle histoire.

You know, boys,

it looks like there's someone

or something inside.

- Yes, Buddy, but what should we do?

- I don't know.

[ominous music]

[cheerful piano melody]

*

I've got it.

I say we let it melt,

and then we can see who

or what is inside.

- Aw, I tell you Buddy would know what to do.

- He's a genius.

- Oh, thanks. - A genius!

- A genius! [gong rings]

[laughter]

- Lunch. - After you, Jacques.

[sweeping orchestral music]

- Let's say grace.

Dear Uncle Paul,

lead us not into temptation,

within reason.

And on this day,

help us all to maintain the standards

of center square.

[all imitating Paul Lynde] Amen.

- Let's eat.

- Ooh. - Ahh.

- Smells good. What is it, Buddy?

- It's baby seal flipper stew.

[all yelling]

[gasps]

- Castor!

[giggling]

- Ah, Francois, look at the nice beaver.

She is fat, no? - [chuckling]

- First of all, I'm not a she.

And second of all,

I'm not fat,

so f*ck off, frogs.

- This is Castor. He's my adopted son.

- What?

I'm adopted?

- His parents were k*lled by an uncaring government.

- What? The government's uncaring?

- I'm adopted?

- Cheer up, beaver.

Have some seal flipper stew.

- I'm a vegetarian.

- He only eats Lucky Charms and beer.

- Yeah, Dad? - Yes?

- Where's my grub? - Oh, it's up there.

Um, can you please get it for me, Rebel?

Just can't seem to reach it.

It's so far.

Thanks.

[cheerful piano melody]

- Nothing there. - No?

Oh, it's in there.

Can you please get it for me, Sinbad?

Thanks. That's a dear.

- Not here.

- Oh, silly me.

Here it is.

There we go.

[crunching] - Oh, that beaver!

- Castor, go to your dam.

[heavy metal music playing]

Parenting.

[knock on door]

[sighs]

[knocking continues]

I'll get it.

[pounding on door]

Are you sure you're Swiss?

[door creaks open]

- Hello, Buddy.

- Liz, what's wrong?

You look sensational,

like you've just been a car accident.

- I need a friend!

- Oh, there there, my sovereign.

- Wow.

What a woman.

- Oh, Buddy.

It's the press.

They're destroying my family.

I can't find any more priv-ah-see.

- It's "pry-vah-see," dear.

- Thank you, but this--

this is the final straw.

Look.

[ominous music]

*

[phone beeping]

- Hello? Lanky Dean here.

Yeah, listen--

Her Majesty seems to have gone

and cloistered herself in some sort of

gay and talking animal discotheque

in the Canadian Arctic.

Right, now listen, don't stop the presses,

but do alert the guy who does stop the presses

that I may be calling upon him

to stop the presses very soon.

You got that?

Right. Ta-ta.

*

[wolf howling]

[tranquil music]

*

- This isn't your ass.

- It isn't?

Really?

Oh, well, I wouldn't know, you see.

I've never actually taken a peek.

- No. Trust me, girl.

I know bums.

[fire crackling]

- Tell me, Francois,

If whatever's in that giant

block of ice turns out to be

worth a lot of money,

what will you do with your share?

- Well, Jacques,

the first thing I do is

go into town,

find me a woman,

and then I make love to her.

And then I have my first

hot bath in three months.

- A word of advice, Francois,

if you do not mind.

Have the bath first,

then make love to the woman.

- Good idea, Jacques.

You always did know how to treat the ladies.

[both chuckle]

Tell me, Jacques,

what will you do

with your share of the money?

- Well, you know, Francois,

I've always wanted to learn

how to speak French.

- You know, it would go well

with your accent.

- You think?

- Yes.

[both laugh]

- Listen, we queens

have to stick together.

Let me tell you a sad but funny story

about another queen that I think

might prove inspiring.

One day, my friend Queen Latifah

went shopping,

and the store refused to give her a discount.

- Yes? And?

- Well, that's it.

That's the story.

- Well, Buddy, I--

I don't see how that applies to me.

- No?

Well, you're both celebrities.

- Oh, Buddy, sometimes your kind

is so shallow.

- Yours too.

- Touché.

- She's beautiful.

And if she were wood...

- Liz, I know just what you need.

I'm gonna exfoliate your back

with a loofa sponge.

- Oh, that would be brilliant, Buddy,

Thank you.

You know, Buddy, sometimes

it seems to me that everyone

is having a good time but me.

- You're right.

What you need

is an affair.

- What? Buddy, why I'm outraged.

Are you seriously suggesting that I,

Queen Elizabeth II of England,

Regent of Tanganyika

Empress Plenipotentiary of Upper Saskatchewan,

Patroness of the Sydney Reform School for Girls,

Godmother of HMS Sheffield,

and Mayor Honorary of Masulu, Nigeria,

should rut like a common water buffalo in the mud?

Well, maybe.

Just for a bit.

Oh, Buddy,

your wrists are so much stronger

than I remember.

- Um...

They say

you can't judge a book by its cover,

or a man by his coveralls.

- [yelps] Why, you're not Buddy.

- No, I'm Castor, Buddy's son.

- I didn't know Buddy had a son.

- Apparently, I'm adopted.

- Oh.

Then you must feel special

because you're chosen.

As you know, real children

are such a bother.

- May I wash you?

- Well, I don't see why not.

- May I suggest a big, horny kiss?

- Do.

- No, like one you give Phillip.

- Oh, if you insist.

Let's have another.

[romantic music]

[tail thumping]

Something strange is happening to me...

down there!

[yelling]

- I caught you, your Majesty.

- I'm ruined!

[yelling]

- Thank you!

What do you think the prince will say?

[camera shutter clicking]

- [yelling]

- Where are you going?

- Betty, come back!

I love you!

- One more, please!

[bulb flashing] Aww.

Thank you.

[phone beeping]

Hello, Tom?

Lanky Dean here.

Stop the presses.

Well, which way you facing?

Right, it's the little red button.

Okay, yeah.

No, no. No, no, no no, no, no--

No, you've got it going in reverse,

I can hear it.

Yeah, well--

No, no, no, hit it.

Hit the red button,

press it all the way in.

It's not that hard, you daft bird.

Come on-- Aw, no, it's jammed, isn't it?

I know that whining sound.

You've got it jammed-- Oh, come on, stop it.

Wait, start from the beginning.

Which way you facing?

[suspenseful music]

[whooshing]

- I'm, like, really lost.

[echoing]

- Rope.

V-thongs.

Karaoke machine.

["Girls Just Want to Have Fun" melody playing]

Sled.

Dog team.

[yawns]

What do I look like,

The Grinch Who Stole Christmas?

Rebel, Sinbad.

[whooshing]

[harp music]

Pieter, if Her Majesty

comes by when we're gone,

keep her busy.

Mush! [whipping]

- [laughing joyously]

[whooshing]

[triumphant music]

*

- How you doing?

- Great.

Flying turns me on, Rebel.

- Me too.

- Less talking, more flying.

[whip cracks]

both: Ooh, scared.

- Well, I suppose all is lost.

I haven't been a good queen.

I haven't been a good mother.

I can't even make a good adulteress.

Well, technically, it's not adultery

because he is a beaver, after all, not a person.

It's as if I had sex with you.

[chirping]

I know, it's hilarious!

[laughing and chirping]

[dramatic music]

*

- Buddy!

Long time no see.

Why don't you return my calls?

- I've been busy!

- We really need to talk.

- La, la, la. I can't hear you.

* La, la, la, la, la

- Very mature, Buddy.

Very mature!

- Oh.

My stiff upper lip seems

to have spread to my

face and hands and shoulders.

I seem to have a stiff upper body.

Wave or die.

Wave or die.

Wave or die.

Hello.

Hello.

*

- Buddy? - Yes?

- What does this queen look like, again?

- Oh, just a minute.

Here, this is her.

- What? She's two birds?

- No, the other side, you morons.

- Oh, yes. - Oh.

[laughter]

- * Don't it make your blue blood *

* Don't it make your blue blood *

* Don't it make your blue blood *

* Blue

*

- Betty?

[echoing]

Betty?

- It's five seconds to Night Day.

Five, four...

all: three, two, one.

- Night Day!

- Ugh, I hate Night Day.

- There she is!

[chirping]

- No, that's not her.

There she is!

- There she is.

One last sh*t,

and the royal family's finito.

[whipping]

[whooshing]

No!

- [growling]

- [yelling]

- Hang on, girlfriend!

[yelling]

[water dripping]

[harpsichord music]

*

- Yes, Phillip, I'll tell her you called.

Oh that's funny, yes.

- [mouthing]

- Okay, yes, yes, yes.

I'll keep her out of trouble.

Buh-bye, Phil.

Buh-bye.

Buh-bye.

That's the last time I cover for you.

- They'll be no more need of

cover-ups anymore, Buddy.

- No? - No.

I took care of that, Betty.

- [smooches]

- [growling]

- Hey! I demand my freedom of the press.

[smack]

- How chivalrous.

- But you know what, assembled g*ng?

There's still one thing that bothers me.

If it wasn't Liz's bum in the photograph,

then whose was it?

I mean, who here stands to profit financially

from said photograph?

[cheerful piano melody]

*

- It was me!

- Oh!

- [laughing] It was me.

You couldn't figure that out?

What a bunch of daft boogers.

But very attractive people,

if you don't mind me saying.

- Rebel, Sinbad,

take out the garbage.

- Oh. Oh, I wonder

what's gonna happen now, eh?

Let me guess:

In a show, full of

h*m* undertones,

ending with me, the villain,

being carted off by two sexually-menacing giants--

Are you taking me off camera?

I wonder why.

I really wonder why.

[shrieking]

- He won't bother you anymore, Liz.

By the time they get through with him,

he won't even be able to write his own name.

- Oh, thank you. - Yes.

- Ah, look.

The ice has melted.

[suspenseful music]

- [coughing]

[upbeat music]

- Wow! Holy mackerel.

[laughing]

- Oh, no, it's my Uncle Rip.

What happened to you?

- Don't ever call a witch doctor

a son-of-a-bitch, honey.

- Last that I saw you,

you were abroad.

Nothing's changed.

- "Holy mackerel."

- "Holy mackerel." - I get it.

[laughing]

- So what are you doing now?

- Me? [laughing]

I'm doing the backstroke.

- Uncle Rip, was it cold in there?

- Cold in there?

It was so cold, a flasher

had to describe himself.

[rimshot]

[laughter]

- It's gonna be a long Night Day.

- Fasten your seatbelt, precious.

[triumphant music]

Oh, Buddy-- Buddy, have you heard

about the new memory pill?

- No, I haven't. - Oh...what?

- Well, I would love to hear about this

new memory pill-- - About what? The memory pill?

Oh, the memory pill. Oh, yes.

Let me see now, help me out with this, Buddy.

Uh--it's a stem, it's a flower,

and it's a long stem with thorns on it.

- A fleur-de-lis?

- No, no, not the fleur-de-lis.

And it has a-- - Chrysanthemum?

- And it's--no, no, no, and it's red on top.

- A mushroom. - Yes.

- No, no, it's a-- it's a thorns and a stem,

red on top-- - A rose?

- A rose, that's it, rose!

- Oh!

- A rose?

What do you call the name of that memory pill?

[tranquil music]

*

- Tell me, Jacques.

Do you think that this soup could

really bring about world peace?

- No, Francois.

It ispea soup,

notpea soup.

- Jacques, you won't

tell anyone what I thought

about the soup, would you?

- Of course not, Francois.

"Pea soup."

[chuckling]

- [laughing nervously]