04x18 - Kidney, Popsicle, and Nuts

[bunniefuu]

[quacks]

[rock music playing]

[laughter]

Dudes!

Sorry I'm late,
but you got to turn this town

upside down to find a good
Hungarian amateur bondage video.

Let's par-tay!

Say, bud, where's the blushing
groom-to-be?

Where's good old, uh...
uh... Stevie?

I'm Stevie.

Stevie-boy!

Steverino! The Stevemeister!

Long time no see,

still can't believe you're gonna
go through with it, man.

Why subsidize NASA when you can
get the Tang for free? Eh? Eh?

But since you're
about to be balled and chained

till death do you part,

promise me you won't hold back
anything tonight.

I know I won't.

[laughs]

Who the hell
are you?

Ah, quit your joshing,
Stevedore, it's us--

Greg and Skeeter.

What's up?

Don't tell me you forgot

that time we were partying
with, uh, uh...?

You know, that guy...?

Frank?

The Frankster! Yeah.

You know, at that, uh,
you know... place?

The Shore?

The Shore!

Partying with Frankie
at the Shore.

Man, was we faced!

But not as faced as we're going
to get tonight, right, chief?

[chimpanzee grunts]

[retching]

We're in luck.

He threw up on me.

In frat boy language,
that means we're in.

Duckman, sanitation
issues aside, don't
you feel guilty

trying to pass
yourself off

as that young
man's friend

just so we can crash
his bachelor party?

Yeah. I'm so ashamed

I think I'll go cry
in my free beer!

[gulping]

[screams]

Duckman?

Duckman?!

This is serious.

I have to get you
to a doctor immediately.

[hooting and cheering]

Or I could just let you
lie there and leer at co-eds.

Ah...

MAN:
Mr. Duckman,
if the body is a temple

then you've committed
countless acts

of desecration.

I'll need a urine sample.

With pleasure.

Always glad to show off
my sharpshooting skills.

[zipper whizzing]

[screaming]

[screaming]

[screaming]

No problem.

How ironic that urination,

once such a source
of pleasure for you

has now become
a cavalcade of pain.

Surely it isn't
that difficult.

Surely it is, sawbones.

I just passed a stone
bigger than Bill Wyman.

Ouch. Hmm...

I've never cut my finger
on a urine sample before.

Mr. Duckman,
it is my expert medical opinion

that you need a new kidney.

Oh, is that all?

Hoo! As long as it's
an internal organ.

Luckily, my dearest friend,
Cornfed

will be only too happy
to donate his.

I'm sorry, but in order
for the transplant to work

the organ must come
from a blood relative.

I knew there was a reason
I had children.

Okay, doc, name your poison--
Ajax, Charles, Mono...

Unfortunately, it appears
that Charles and Mambo

share one kidney between them,
while Ajax was born without any.

Though, intriguingly, he does
have three livers and an ovary.

What are you trying
to tell me, doc?

That you must find
another relative

who can donate a kidney.

Okay. I'll get it
from Dad.

But your father's been dead
and buried for years.

Well, you're half right.

Dad got caught up
in the cryogenics
craze of the '70s

so after he kacked,
I had him frozen.

CORNFED:
Here?

It was all I
could afford

after squandering
his life savings
on eight-tracks.

Ah, Leo Sayer.

You still make me
feel like dancing.

Terry "Duke" Tetzloff!

At your service, and if
you're dying, Mr. Duckman

this is your lucky day.

We have a special
on frozen heads-- a mere $29.95.

Plus, we'll throw in a pint
of our marble fudge swirl

as a way of saying

"We know you have your choice
in head-freezing establishments

and we want to thank you
for choosing us."

Spare me the snake oil, Legosi.
I'm here to claim my dad.

I hope you remembered:
No tickee, no body.

One dadsicle
coming right up!

[gasps]

Dad, there you are

looking just like after
you'd read my report cards.

I see you now, and I remember
the times we had

the moments we shared--

tender words, a hug,
the touch of your hand on mine

and I know those moments
aren't really gone.

They'll live forever
in my mind and in my heart.

So, can I get the stiff to go?

[slurping]

Uh-oh.

"Uh-oh"? That's medicalese
for "S.O.L.!" What gives?

There's a problem
with the kidney.

[gasps]

What is it, doc?

Cancer? Cirrhosis? Freezer burn?

Judging from the test results

it did not come
from your biological father.

You mean, the
man who raised me

wasn't my real father?

Then who was?

I have no idea,

but if you can't get
his kidney, you will die.

But that's impossible!

How will I find him?!

He may not even be alive!

Don't I have any
other options?

Just one.

[bell ringing]

Freeze your head.

Get your head frozen,
right here!

[crying]

So, you see, boys,

there's always
a chance

your father could
find his father

and persuade him to
donate his kidney.

But if not, at least you can
take comfort in the fact

that he'll be going to
a better, happier place.

DUCKMAN:
Well, soon, my body
will be ripped open,

my chest hollowed out,

my eyelids sewn shut,
I'll get buried in dirt

and worms will
devour my flesh.

[crying]

What's with him?

Okay. Stop your blubbering.

Here's the good news.

Behold-- your inheritance.

It's the most beautiful thing
I've ever seen.

I could keep stuff in it.

Very touching, Ajax,
but it's what's inside the box.

Actually, you're all
a bit young to see, touch

and/or be infected
by anything in here

but when you grow up and get
grown-up fetishes of your own

maybe this stuff will
make you smile

and think of your old man

'cause even if I'm not here,
I'll always be with you.

Wherever a guy breaks into
Gillian Anderson's trailer

to steal her dress shields,
I'll be there.

Wherever there's a cop
b*ating up a guy

because he climbed
Carol Alt's trellis

I'll be there.

Wherever a guy gets so horny

that even the thought
of Al Gore's daughters

lights up his yule log,
I'll be there.

But I worry about you boys,

'cause I know what it's like
to have your dad die. Twice.

Now, you don't know that yet.

Your father may be alive.

Ah, Beverly--
sad, sweet, naive

apparently-
not-wearing-a-bra Beverly,

my father has to be dead

or he would have tried
to contact me.

I know it's painful
to consider, Duckman,

but you have
to have hope.

If only there were a way
to locate him.

There is.
On the Microsoft network.

Of course!
The Microsoft network!

"Harnessing the power
of the Internet

to enrich our lives."

How come you know so much
about the Microsoft network?

Bill Gates
just moved
in next door.

Ooh, look at me!

I've got a riding mower!

I'm Mr. High Tech!

Bih-bih-bih-bih!

We've got something.

We just logged on to
www.findlostdad.com

and voila!

Key-ripes!
This is the
hand-punched

extra hole in
the Bible Belt.

Looks like
this is the place.

DUCKMAN:
Wuh-ho! See?
I told you.

That's the kind of joint

a guy with my superior
genetic makeup ends up in.

Uh, Duckman, that's not it.

That is.

[dog howling]

Great. We're
in Dogpatch.

It's not without a certain
unpretentious, rustic charm.

Probably made the cover
of Better Homes and Hovels.

It's funny, Corny.

I've been thinking
about this moment

since I first found out
my dad might be alive.

I was pretty angry
about what he did.

Still, now that I'm here,

I mean, well,
maybe he had his reasons.

I bet if we'd
met earlier

we... we would have
been friends

but now I'm sure
I won't have anything

in common with him.

[g*n cocking]

[Southern accent]:
What the hell
are you staring at?

R-R... Red Crocker?

Oh, you'd like me
to tell you, wouldn't you?

Well, that'd just make it all
so easy for you, wouldn't it?

Get inside afore
I splatter your innards

all over my compost heap.

[both gulping]

[flies buzzing]

[both grunting]

Got to check you
for microphones.

Why are you using
a dead otter?

Just never you mind.

Well, you're clean.

Sit down.

Now, talk.

Who sent you?

N-N... No-No-Nobody.

You see, Mr. Crocker...
Red... Dad...

Hmm?

It's me-- Eric Duckman,
your long-lost son.

Son?

Heh, you Freemasons must believe
I'm soft in the head.

What do you
think I am

some gullible,
namby-pamby John Bircher?

Well, I ain't!

What I am is smart.

I'm the onliest one

who's caught onto
the Satanic conspiracy

of Jews/Christians/
Hindus/Muslim bankers

who wants to take away
our as*ault weapons,

fluoridate our toothpaste,

deprive us
of our uninalienable rights

and put us to work

as sl*ve labor
on them trendy gazpacho farms.

Come on!

Only a stark raving,
drooling, idiot madman

would believe that...

wasn't the pure, gospel truth.

Ah, they're all in on it--
the U.N., the C.I.A, Kinko's.

That's why I formed
my own government.

The Crocker Republic.

Population: One.

Dad, I'm sorry to interrupt
your paranoid babbling

but I have a problem
I kind of need your help with.

Now, get this straight, kid.

I don't believe for one
blue-eyed, razor-cut minute

that I'm related to a
moldy-mouthed fleabag like you.

Okay, but let's say,
just for the sake of argument

that I was your son,
and I was going to die.

Do you think, maybe,
you would mind, maybe...

letting me have your kidney?

Get me on a operating table
so's you can drill one of them

trilateral commission chips
into my brain? Ha!

Anyway, just so happens
I lost my spare

in the Great Postal Service w*r
of 1993.

Now, I'm giving you ten seconds
to git.

Ten!

[both screaming]

[car starting]

[owl hooting]

CORNFED:
You almost finished?

You betcha,
Cornostomy.

I'm just shaking
the dew off the...

[yelling]

...lily.

I'm sorry this didn't work
out, Duckman.

I suggest we hurry home

and get you on
the organ waiting list.

You might have a chance

if there are no detoxing
celebrities or sports stars

ahead of you.

I'm not going anywhere.

Am I crazy,
or did you just say

you were staying,
meaning you're crazy?

I want to spend my
last days trying to
get to know my father.

Duckman, please don't take this
the wrong way

but your father
is a bona fide,

over-the-top, paranoid
schizophrenic lunatic

with delusions
of grandeur.

The truth is, Corny,
I see myself in him.

We both have
strong convictions.

We both speak our minds.

We're both willing
to forgo hygiene

in pursuit of higher ideals.

What choice do I have,
old friend?

I must be with him.

I just wish
there was something I could do

to find a way into his heart.

[honking horn]

Dad, I got you a present.

[growling]

But the owner
of the all-night handgun

and as*ault weapons shop

made me promise you'd
only use it in self-defense,

like, uh, against a really mean
rabbit, or something.

Sonny boy.

[chomping and slurping]

More squirrel, son?

No, thanks, Dad. I'm stuffed.

So was the squirrel.

[both laughing]

God. Oh, yeah...

So, to get back
to your lesson...

the Sierra Club, also known
as the Bolshevik Party USA,

talks about saving owls
but what they really mean is...

Confiscating as*ault r*fles?

Planned parenthood talks
about giving away condoms

but what they really mean is...

Manipulating the weather
to control corn futures?

Hold on there.

You're picking up
on the subtleties

of the Crockerland geopolitics
a tad too fast.

You sure you ain't just
a-parrotin' things back at me

to win my trust?

Dad, while I may not agree

with every detail
of your philosophy--

for instance,
I'm still a bit hazy

on why the Dutch are poisoning
our pools with chlorine--

I certainly share your healthy
contempt for a society

that prizes rational discussion
about common problems

over incoherent ranting
about imaginary evils!

You're a good boy, boy.

Dad, why did you leave Mom?

Well, it ain't easy
for me to talk about.

I guess it all started

the day I realized
our government was a sham...

and the more
I looked into things

the more I realized this country
had gotten too corrupt to save

and I better start
one of my own

even if I had to ignore
all my responsibilities

as a citizen and a husband
and a father to do it.

Wow. You're an old-fashioned
salt of the earth idealist!

Just like I used to be.

Dad, we've missed
so much time together

and I...
I don't have a lot left.

Do you think I could... stay?

You really want to?

Oh, you got to be willing

to give up the trappings
of so-called civilization,

memorize the sacred covenant,

k*ll and skin farm animals.

I'd do all that.

I've done some of it.

Of course, some of them

were more pets
than farm animals.

[chomping and slurping]

Dad?

Are you okay?

Yeah.

Listen, Duckman...

I don't need a lot to live on--

a few hundred gallons
of lentil soup,

a m*ssile launcher,

some pamphlets with pictures

of third world types
in a bull's-eye--

but there's one thing
I've been missing...

someone to
pass it on to

so that when I die

this little island
of hatred and ignorance

won't disappear forever

and if you wasn't
gonna die first

I'd give it to you.

[blubbering]

[both blubbering]

Dad... now that
we're together

I know that nothing could
possibly, ever go wr...

[over speaker]:
This is Lieutenant Colonel
Cornfed Pig

of the national guard.

[helicopter hovering]

That's what I get for letting
him have weekends off.

Throw down your weapons
and come out with your hands up.

Or, alternatively, come out,
then throw down your weapons.

Conversely, you might throw them
down as you're coming out.

As an interesting variation,
you could...

All right!

No wonder these sieges
last so long.

Red Crocker,
you are under arrest

for illegal possession
of firearms,

holding Duckman hostage

and burning your own flesh
without a license.

I'm not being held hostage!

I'm staying here... with my dad!

That's my boy.

This is Congresswoman Bernice,

newly-appointed member of
the Select Subcommittee

for Giving Pushy Freshmen
Something To Do

That Gets Them Out
of Washington

here to remind you
that the constitution dictates

we treat these heavily-armed,
pathological criminals

with dignity and respect.

Duckman's in there.

Open fire!

Dad, we're
outnumbered,
outgunned...

though just barely.

I'm going to die

but there's no
reason for you to.

Don't worry, son.

There's no problem
a little mortar fire can't cure.

We're so alike--
I have that on
a sampler--

but in this case

I think we should
give ourselves up.

Bernice!

Beverly!

Duckman's in there
with his father.

Perhaps he'd come out if he was
asked to by his loved ones.

Unfortunately, there's no one
here but his family.

MAMBO:
Dad...

please come out!

Tell him you love him.

Dad, uh...

our active distaste for you

is sometimes
mitigated by pity.

May I say something?

Certainly, Ajax.

Dad, where did you leave
the toilet paper?

In the roller thing
next to the toilet!

Thanks, Gad.

Duckman, if you won't listen
to your family

perhaps you'll listen
to the godfather of soul,

the hardest-working man
in show business,

soul brother number one.

"Please, Please," "Jump
On the Good Foot" himself--

James Brown.

♪ Good God! ♪

♪ Duckman! Unh! ♪

♪ Give yourself up! ♪

♪ Duckman! ♪

♪ Unh! ♪

♪ Give yourself up, man! ♪

♪ Duckman! Unh! ♪

♪ Give yourself up! ♪

♪ Duckman! Unh! ♪

♪ Give yourself up! Hey! ♪

♪ Duckman! Hah! ♪

He makes a strong case,
but I don't know.

Dad... what are you doing?

Look, kid, I like you

but after careful assessment
of our situation

I've rethought our position.

Our eggs is fried.

You're running out on
me, arent you?

Just like you did
before I was born!

Duckman, do I look like somebody
who could have a family?

I met your mother.
She got pregnant.

I couldn't handle it.
End of story.

No! Not end of story.

I may not have long to live

but I'm not letting you
desert me twice!

You think you're so brave
standing up to dangers

that don't exist,
but anything comes along

you got to make a real sacrifice
for, like a family,

and you're out of there!

Okay, maybe we're alike
in some ways.

Maybe we're both angry,
maybe we're both misfits,

but you're wacko!

I wanted to get to know you,
to understand you,

to figure out where I came from

but now I do know you,
I wish I'd never met you.

You're not an idealist,
you're just a coward.

We're going in!

Wait. I think it's Duckman.

He's got a hankie!

Fire!

Duckman, where's
your father?

He left. Again.

[doorbell rings]

Package for
a Mr. Duckman.

RED:
Dear son

here's a present to make up
for the birthdays I missed.

May you have many, many more.

[gasps]

A kidney!

Turns out
I had a spare all along.

Took it out
with my swiss army Kn*fe.

Had to do it myself

because all them doctors
is Maoists.

[sniffling]:
He's got a point.

Oh, I'm too old to change, son,

but I'm glad
I got to know you a little.

Maybe we'll see each other
again someday.

Maybe, Dad. Maybe.

[engine starts]

You're a good boy, boy.

[truck drives away]

♪ Ow! Duckman! ♪

♪ Hey! ♪

♪ You gave yourself up! ♪

♪ Duckman! Hey! ♪

♪ You gave yourself up! ♪

♪ I like it ♪

♪ Duckman! Huh! ♪

♪ Gave yourself up!
You're real! ♪

♪ Duckman! Huh! ♪

♪ Gave yourself up! ♪

♪ Duckman! ♪

♪ Hey! ♪

♪ You gave yourself up! ♪

♪ Duckman! Hey! ♪

♪ You gave yourself up!
I like it ♪

♪ Duckman! Huh!
You gave yourself up! ♪

♪ You're real! Duckman! ♪

♪ Hah! ♪

[flies buzzing]