04x06 - Bonfire of the Panties

[bunniefuu]

[quacks]

[film projector running]

[fanfare playing]

MAN:
Every living creature on Earth
needs to mate,

even this little fellow.

Not much to look at, is he?

But even he is driven to seek
sexual contact.

But this sad specimen has
neither the prowess nor beauty

to attract a mate,

so he must go where
females gather

to perform his desperate
mating ritual.

♪ ♪

He tries even harder
to attract her.

Then the moment of truth...

♪ ♪

Uh-oh!

Looks like our overeager friend
is destined for failure...

...after failure...

...after failure,

till the sad little
bottom-feeder,

unable to reproduce,
is extinct.

And that's what happened
to the grammet grub

ten million years ago.

He just couldn't keep up
with nature's rich parade"

[bell ringing]

All right, children,
class dismissed.

Please stop learning now.

Mambo, that film
got me thinking.

Charles, it's another
one of those factory
irregular films

the district picks up cheap
'cause the facts are wrong.

Oh, yeah. I knew the capital
of France wasn't Francetown.

No, I mean the whole time
I watched the film

I was thinking about Dad.

I've noticed it's been
a long time since he...

you know, bobbed for squab?

Got his Brosnan pierced?

Took a mulligan
at the 19th hole?

Yeah, plus
he can't get laid.

[crowd laughing]

Let's face it,

when it comes to women,
Dad's no Larry King.

But he used to be able
to find someone--

like a woman getting even
with a boyfriend

or a nymphomaniac
with low standards.

Or that blind, obsessed
Seinfeld groupie

who thought he was
Jason Alexander
in a duck suit,

but that was
two years ago.

I guess I didn't realize
how long it had been.

That's probably why
lately he's been so...

Hmm, what's
the word for it?

[tires squealing]

Cranky?

You want me to squat

and pinch out a red
friggin' carpet?

Get in!

[huffing]

How was school...?

Can we stop
all the chatter?!

You know, a lot
of fathers wouldn't
take time out from work

to drive you two to your
stupid soccer practice.

But, Dad, soccer season
ended three months ago.

And... we've never
played soccer.

Don't you give me your
smart-aleck back talk!

[huffing]

Poor Dad.

He's wound tighter
than Phil Gramm's sphincter.

I want to help,
but there's no way.

Maybe there is a way.

What? You can
hear our thoughts?

Yes. I seldom use
my psychic gifts though,

because of one mind I beheld

filled with grisly,
revolting evil...

[playing lounge jazz]

Wow! Willard Scott!

I'm a big fan...

[speaking gibberish]

[shuddering]

Anyway, I have an idea

how we can help your dad,
but it violates

every principle
decent people hold dear.

Damn... stupid... oxygen!

We'll, uh...
keep open minds.

An aphrodisiac?

You want us to pervert
our love of chemistry

and whip up a love potion

for Dad to use
on unsuspecting women?

I've never heard such
a depraved, twisted,
reprehensible idea.

You've never seen the 700 Club.

It's an extreme measure,
but it's the only way

to give Duckman
a chance to meet someone.

If we combine my knowledge
of human nature

with your chemistry expertise,

we can make a tiny smidge,
a drop of sex appeal,

just enough so that
for one evening

women won't run away
when he approaches.

He could even find someone

who appreciates him
like your mom did.

So really, we'd just be leveling
the playing field, right?

Well, that seems fair.

Okay, we'll do it.

Oh, I must say
I'm surprised

at how readily you boys
bastardized your code of ethics

in order to justify
a morally dubious decision.

That was very
grownup of you.

So, let's start.

As for Duckman, MTV's running
a House of Style marathon,

so he'll be...
[clearing throat]

busy for hours.

Don't worry, I'm taping it.

Come on, musketeers.

Ajax, how did
you get here?

Gloriosky. I have no idea.

Still, I would do anything
for Dad,

even without a biscuit
after each trick.

But, uh... you know, he doesn't
need to know that part.

["Sorcerer's Apprentice"
playing]

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

It's a wha...?

An aphrodisiac.

Yeah... I don't know.

I had my hair like
that back in the '70s.

Too much hassle
from "the man."

No, Dad, it's
a love potion.

You splash it on
like cologne

and any woman who smells it
will be attracted to you.

You're yanking me--
and it works?

Then why am I here with you

instead of knee-deep
in Jamie Lee Curtis?

If this stuff makes me
irresistible...

No, Duckman,
not irresistible.

There's just enough
to intrigue one woman.

The rest is up to you.

Given your proven record

of mind-bogglingly
destructive excess

we felt giving you
more than that

would be like giving
Michael Jackson

a drum of peanut oil
and some Cub Scouts...

allegedly.

So this is all there is?
No more?

It must have been difficult
to make.

Nice try, Dad.

We're not telling
you what's in it,
and we won't make more.

This is it,
so use it wisely.

You're so right, of course.

Thank you, beautiful children,
dear friend

for your caring devotion,
your...

Aw, come on,
what are we waiting for?

Group hug, right now.

Come here.

[all sighing]

[door closing]

Dad, did you
hear the door?

Dad?

He's gone.

Whoo-hoo! Whoo-hoo!

You don't think
he'd find some way

to circumvent our wishes

and turn our well-intentioned
deed into a hedonistic fiasco?

We shouldn't let him out
of our sight for one second.

MAN:
Next up on the House of Style
marathon--

the swimsuit special.

ALL:
Wow!

Good old House of Style
swimsuit special.

They'll be hyp-mo-tized.

That gives me a half hour
to figure out how to whip up

enough of this jungle juice

to get my nail hammered
for life.

Fortunately, with Stein
and his brood out of town

his private lab and library
are mine, all mine.

Pur-ty.

But no time to stop
and smell the rosewood.

I got to put the Bunsens
on afterburners.

[liquid percolating]

Excellent!

I've used my newfound expertise
in biochemistry

to synthesize the aphrodisiac.

Oh, Duckman,
look what you can achieve

if you're motivated.

If you would just put
this much energy

into improving your mind.

Yee-ha! There's a lot
of guys smarter than me,

but I get all the ginch
I want and then some.

Good point.

And now I begin a sordid,
well-lubed flesh-fest

that won't end till I've toasted
every marshmallow in town.

Zow-wee!

I'll have to play this one
close to the vestal.

I'll enjoy more cupcakes
if I start with tiny bites.

Just a wee nibble at a time
until my posse drops its guard

and then... whoa, Nellie!

And Nellie's roommate.

Now, if I don't change
my usual routine,

no one will be the wiser.

[dance music playing]

♪ ♪

Oh!

Watch where you're going,
you corn-colored smudge-pot,

you bong-shaped earwig,

you slime-encrusted,
dinghy-donged,

crud-mongering lizard larva!

Bernice, I know
why you're upset.

You misplaced a bug,
a stick, and your head

but a proctologist
could help you find them.

Well, got to go!
Got a big date!

A big date?

You?

Hmm...

Of all the stupid, thoughtless,

chauvinistic,
brain-dead ideas...

What could you possibly
have been thinking?!

Ajax, honey, I don't blame you.

You're not smart enough to come
up with a plan this stupid.

And Charles and Mambo,
while I expect more from you,

you can't be blamed
for the poor example

set by your so-called
adult supervision!

Bernice, it's only fair
that I take some of the blame.

Wrong! You get
all the blame!

You turned my house

into an episode
of Weird Science!

Yeah.

And as for you...!

[gulps]

If what they
tell me is true

they only gave you
a tiny, little bit.

So how'd you hook
every woman in the Southland

and still smell
like an expl*si*n

at the Old Spice plant?

And why is Benjamin Franklin
taking my stove apart?

The jig is up--
run, wastebasket, run.

Bernice, let's cut
to the chaste.

I freely admit
I made more of the formula.

I just wouldn't be able
to live with myself

if I didn't come clean and
surrender the rest of it to you.

Here you go.

This is all of it.

The whole thingy.

I'm tapped out now,
no mo'.

Hmm...

I have no choice
but to trust you.

[laughing]

That's right. Trust me.
Overestimate my character.

I'll keep the formula hidden,

lay low
till they forget about it,

and then it's back to better
living through chemistry.

I'll know
when the time is right.

I'm exhausted.
I'm going to sleep.

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

The time is right!

CORNFED:
Duckman.

Duckman, you ready

to go to work?

What do you mean, work?

Tuesday?
The Saperstein stakeout?

Oh, right.

The Saperstein stakeout.

Last one in the car
has to deal with the Greek.

[glass breaking]

[shouting]
Yes, sir.

Yes, Mr. Papandreo.
Son of a biscuit!

Shove it up your Macedonia,
Mr. Papandreo,

you Greek son of...

What's his problem
this time?

I don't know.

Who gives a couscous?!

Stop the presses!
You see what I see?

Holy exclamation
of surprise, Duckman.

It's Courtney Thorne-Smith.

Courtney who-huh?

From Melrose Place.

She was so sexy
in Summer School,

so smart and sassy
on Day by Day.

Plus, she's got
a pair of huskies

that go to the Yukon
and back.

Whoof-a. What a quail.

I got to talk to her.

Damn. No liquid loving.

Boy, and the one time
I really need it.

After all, the only way
I ever get to broil

a snapper like that is if she
comes up to me and says...

Excuse me.

I couldn't help noticing you
across the street.

No more formula, eh?

Ha!

I smell a rat!

A big sitcommy rat!

Hi, I'm...

No need to tell me
who you are.

Uh, miss.. Jessica?

Parker? Lewis?

Or may I... simply
call you Jodie?

[suppressed giggle]

My really close friends
call me "Courtney."

Well, Courtney,
I'm, uh, Duckman.

Duckman, I hope
I'm not being too forward...

Trust me, it's
your best angle.

Thank you.

I never do this,
but I noticed you out here

and I felt like
I had to talk to you.

Wait a sec...
you noticed me?

How can that be?

I'm a private detective

on a stakeout.

I'm supposed
to blend in

disappear,
keep my profile low.

Please don't be upset.

It was low--
very, very, low.

Just... really low.

Yeah, right.
No, really!

Other than that,
you were Mr. Low Profile.

Honest.

Well, I am a professional.

So, Duckman,
make a fool out of me, eh?

I'll turn that house upside down

until I find your hidden stash
of formula

and who will have
the last laugh, then, eh,

Duckman, my twitty?!

[laughing wickedly]

[screams]

And that is
why, in Togo

biscuits are
called "duckmen."

But here I'm
yakking about me.

What I want to hear
about is you.

Me?

Well, my hometown
was founded in

sex, sex, fondle, lick, lick,

sex, breasts, sex, lick, sex,

sex, restraints, oils, sex,

velour, sex, sex...

But all kids get picked on,
you know?

Yeah, sure.

Tha-that... thing you said.

I think your friend
is waving at you.

Friend? Nope, nope,
i'm here alone.

Duckman.

He's not a friend of yours?

No, never met
the gentleman.

I need you
to cover for me.

I have to go
to the bathroom.

He sure seems like
a friend of yours.

If we were friends,
would I shriek at him

in a piercing,
deranged voice?

Go away! Go away!

Leave me alone! Leave me alone!

Just go!

Um... let me ask
you something.

Would you like
to have dinner?

Dinner? I'd love to.

Wait.
Didn't you just have dinner?

Me? No, I haven't
eaten yet.

Miss Thorne-Smith,
you left your purse

when you had dinner.

Go away! Go away!

Leave me alone!

Fun, isn't it?

It is.

♪ ♪

[Duckman and Courtney laughing]

[both laughing]

Shh! Shh!

[both laugh]

So...

this is your room, huh?

It's interesting.

Yeah. Gee, I'm sorry

the place
is so... sloppy.

I... I hope you're
not offended by...

all the adult magazines.

I... research, um...

Duckman, don't worry.

I don't see anything wrong
with a man

having a healthy interest
in magazines like

Asian Pregnant Amputees
Shaving Each Other Monthly.

It's, uh... it's good
to have a hobby.

I have other interests, too.

[squeaks]

Yeah, I'll just bet you do.

Name one hobby that has nothing
to do with sex.

Uh... ha...

Are you sure there are some?

No, no, wait. I do.

Now, you're going
to think this is stupid.

Try me.

Well, okay...

I'm nuts about...

blaxploitation films.

No way!

You're kidding.

I love blaxploitation films.

Really?!

Oh, yeah!

All the classics--
Die, You Black Mother,

Scream, Blackenstein, Scream...

And the biggest, baddest

black detective
of them all--

BOTH:
Jim Slate, Big Black d*ck.

BOTH:
♪ Who's the bad black
detective man ♪

♪ Who gets things done
any way he can? ♪

♪ Jim Slate ♪

♪ Big black d*ck ♪

♪ He's a clean-lovin' mother ♪

♪ Who'll sacrifice
for a brother ♪

♪ Jim Slate ♪

♪ Big black d*ck. ♪

Oh, yeah!

[breaking wind]

Whoa!

[muffled giggles]

[moaning]

That was the best
sex I've ever had.

I don't know how you manage

to be so needy and selfish
at the same time.

Wow! I am only just
getting feeling back

in my fingers and toes.

Told you that anesthetic
would wear off.

Hey, I don't know why

but I think my family
was acting weird this morning.

You got to understand, they're
not as sophisticated as I am.

Plus, I don't often get
celebrity hubba-jubba.

No, they were fine.

Though your son Ajax
has quite a firm grip.

Ajax, let go
of Courtney's hand.

Okay, Dad.

Can I call you
Mo-o-o-o-m-m?

Will he be
all right?

Four steel plates.

He's a trooper.

Courtney, um... I have
to wonder, you know

what a successful,
intelligent

bit of honey like you

sees in a schmo-o-rama
like me.

You know how smart women
make foolish choices?

Well, I'm very smart.

I hope that
doesn't offend you.

Nah. If I had a nickel
for every time I heard that,

I wouldn't have had
to steal your diamond earrings.

Thanks to you,
I've learned the difference

between the right kind of love
and the wrong kind of love...

the kind I've been chasing
for the last few days--

hell, for most of my life--
but that's over now.

So, want to have lunch today?

Sure! I will take you
to Gary's Deli

for the actual
Courtney Thorne-Smith sandwich--

ham and cream cheese
on white bread.

No tongue?
Har-har.

Tell me: What's the
perfect Duckman sandwich?

Well, it involves you
and Daphne Zuniga,

but we'll talk about that
as we get closer to my birthday.

[chuckles]

Guys, I have
to tell you someth...

What? What happened?

Oh. What a coincidence.

That's wh...

Nice try,
you dreck-dripping drake!

You lied to us!

And Courtney--

this isn't
some blind Seinfeld sicko,

but a sweet, caring woman
who deserves better

than to be fooled
into loving you by some potion!

You're wrong!

I didn't use it
last night.

Courtney loves me for me!

Some people never
experience this,

but I've been blessed enough
to find it twice.

And instead of being happy for
me, you accuse me and insult me.

And when you say I'm some loser

who used a love potion
to trick Courtney

into sleeping
with me,

well, then you're
insulting Courtney,

and I will not
let you do that!

Wait here!

You think I care
about this formula?

Here, take it.
Throw it away!

I don't need it.

I'm in love with her,

and she's in love with me
for who we are.

Duckman, I'm sorry.

Yeah, sorry, Dad.
Sorry, Duckman.

Courtney!
What are you...?

I came back just...
to see you again.

I missed you that much.

I heard what you said,
Duckman, and it was beautiful.

Turns out you're not
a foolish choice after all.

You're... you're actually
a pretty great choice.

So I have to break up with you.

ALL:
What?!

I only make
foolish choices, remember?

I think you are
the most caring,

supportive, sensitive man
I've ever met.

And I've been
to the Prime-time Emmy Awards.

Clearly, I would be happy
with you forever.

That's why I have
to leave you.

But couldn't you make
an exception?

I'd like to,
but I'm a celebrity.

I make foolish choices
all the time.

To change now
would be disastrous.

I'm sorry, Duckman.

Maybe someday I'll make
the right choice after all.

[whispering]:
Bye.

ANNOUNCER:
Next on Melrose Place:

Allison finds out
the man in her life...

ANNOUNCER 2:
Coming up next:

Seinfeld...

Yeah, uh... hi. Irma?

You know who this is?

Yeah, that's-that's right.

Well, I haven't seen you
in a long time.

I thought
maybe we'd get together.

Really?

Well, I happen
to know for a fact

you're not
who you say you are.

I'm onto you, sicko!

JASON ALEXANDER:
I swear, I've never
met you before.

Tell you what-- let me go,
and we'll forget

the whole thing, okay... Irma?

Tonight I'm not Irma.

Tonight call me...
"Vandelay."

I wish you'd brought
that duck suit.

[psycho violin shrieking]

[Jason Alexander laughing]

COURTNEY:
♪ For a brother ♪

BOTH:
♪ Sacrifice for a brother ♪

I get it now.

BOTH:
♪ He's a clean-lovin' mother,
sacrifice for a brother ♪

[Courtney laughing]

BOTH:
♪ Jim Slate ♪

♪ Big black d*ck... ♪

Okay. I think...
Okay.

MAN:
Two, three and...

BOTH:
♪ Who's the bad
black detective... ♪

I messed
up already.

That's okay.

♪ Who's the bad
black detect... ♪

I can't do
it together!

♪...Who gets things done? ♪

[both laughing]

I'm so overwhelmed!

DUCKMAN:
Don't you give me
your smart-aleck back talk!