04x24 - You've Come a Wrong Way, Baby

[bunniefuu]

[quacks]

Come on, Charles.

Don't be chicken.

No! Will not submit
to peer pressure!

Ah, stop your
struggling, Chas.

Just lay back and enjoy
a nice, refreshing...

cigarette.

[fiendish laughter]

[taking long drag]

[coughing]

Damn you, Mambo!

You've been sneaking
cigarettes for weeks now.

Frankly, I'm growing tired
of the secondhand smoke.

Ha, ha, ha! Don't
get uptight, man.

Everybody knows
cigarettes

make us look mature,
sophisticated and cool

and the best thing
about them

is they're so relaxing.

[woman screaming]

[babbling]

[keening]

Aunt Bernice,
don't you think

we're a little old
for a time out?

I'd say it's time somebody
got a good spanking.

No!

I was talking
about me.

This is no time for jokes!

This is serious!

Bernice, don't you
think you're getting
a bit carried away?

I mean, what red-blooded
American boy hasn't
snuck a few ciggies,

cut a couple of classes,
given the home ec teacher

an after-class
tongue bath?

You've led a really
interesting life, haven't you?

What a long, strange trip
it's been.

When children
pick up bad habits

it's time to take a good,
hard look at ourselves

and place the blame
where it obviously belongs--

on the cigarette companies.

And it's about time
somebody taught them a lesson.

ANNOUNCER:
And now we join

the congressional anti-smoking
hearings already in progress.

I also propose that instead
of using cute, cuddly mascots

to promote their products

the tobacco companies only
employ unappealing spokespeople.

For example, instead of,
say, Joe Camel, we'll have...

Sammy Stroke-face...

Randy the Respirator...

and Carcinomi,
the Cancer-ridden Clown.

[all shuddering]

We're also
all familiar

with the glamorization
of smoking,

particularly in old movies
and TV shows.

Well, I think
I've come up with something

that finally nips that
in the bud.

Lights!

Here we see
Mr. Humphrey Bogart

perpetrating the myth
that smoking is cool.

Play it again, Sam.

Now, watch what happens
when we employ a process

called "revisionization."

His cigarette becomes
a nutritious, delicious carrot.

Play it again, Sam.

Revisionization comes to us
from Germany

where the government uses it
to block out all evidence

of their n*zi past.

These measures,
along with my plan

to banish all smokers
to an underground penal colony

are reasonable and rational...

MAN:
Some people say
that smoking is evil.

Well, we'd like
to ask those people:

Are parks evil, too?

The tax revenue
collected from tobacco products

goes directly
into our nation's parks

and recreational facilities.

So, next time you ask someone
to snuff out that cigarette

remember, you're snuffing out
a child's happiness.

[crowd murmuring, gavel bangs]

MAN [southern drawl]:
Forgive me for splicing

my moving picture
to the end of yours, ma'am,

but as president

of one of them so-called
"evil tobacco companies"

I merely wanted to present
the other side of the story.

Rip out his trachea!

String him up by his lungs!

[chortling]

Has anyone ever told you
how pretty you are

while in the throes
of bloodlust?

[suppressed giggle]

My name's Walt Evergreen,

and I'd like
to extend an invitation

for you to visit
one of my tobacco facilities.

I think you'll find that,
like it or not,

cigarettes are as American
as a pie-eatin' jamboree.

[chortling]

Okay, I'll visit your garden
of deadly delights,

but I'm bringing my family
with me

because this
is who pays the price

for your toxic tobacco,
Mr. Evergreen--

the average,
normal American family.

[woman screaming]

hey, it's your loss, baby.

What the hell
are you staring at?!

[snoring]

Kathy Ireland...

Miss Bernice
and her kinfolk.

Welcome to Tobacky Land.

It's beautiful!

And they're even
more beautiful--

Your own private
assistants,

who will happily

satisfy each and every one
of your personal needs.

And you're mine?!

Whoa! Check out the size
of the boll weevils on you!

Now, I'd be happy
to answer any and all questions

regardin' our
little cottage industry,

but before we get
to the serious stuff

I'd like to give y'all
a heapin' helpin'

of Southern
fried hospitality.

[chortling]

EVERGREEN:
So, I turned and said,

"Don't be afraid, Mr. President.

With gums that bad,
I doubt she'd even have teeth."

[both laughing]

Oh, Walt, you're such a
brilliant conversationalist.

And what a gracious host.

I mean, the generosity
you've shown us--

the food, the gifts

the extremely entertaining
holograms of Billy Ray Cyrus--

oh, how can I ever thank you?

Miss Bernice,
it's reward enough

that you now realize
we tobacco industry folks

aren't so bad after all.

Well, unfortunately,
tobacco is.

Come again?

While I'm certainly grateful
for your incredible hospitality,

nothing could ever
change my mind

about the evils
of your cursed crop.

I hope you understand, Walt.

I understand completely.

[all gasp]

Man, this vacation keeps getting
better and better--

the old bind-and-boink!

[groans]

Now a little
slap-and-tickle!

Ow!

[slurring]:
Now "multiple skull fractures
with cerebral hemor..."

You couldn't keep quiet

about the tobacco
thing, could you?

I was only
doing my job.

How was I
supposed to know

Walt's a little
bit country,

a little bit
Hermann Goering?

[both grunt]

You tobacco thugs
may take away our freedom,

but remember
that nobody

nobody can take
away our dignity.

Listen to the chains
sing their happy chain song.

♪ Doody-doo-doo-doo ♪

♪ Doo-dee-dee-dum-dum
be-bop bop-a-squee-da ♪

[laughs]

Is there someone else
we can be shackled to?

Quit complaining.

Out of all the people
and farm animals

I could be shackled to,

why in the name
of all that's nude and oiled

and slides up and down
a brass pole

do I have to be shackled
to Grandma-ma?

[sobs]

Well, we're
certainly enjoying

your little Bataan
Death March,

I wish you'd say
where you're taking us.

'Fess up, Walt.

What are you
going to do--

b*at us, t*rture
us, m*rder us?

And miss out
on all the irony?

No, my sweet lady.

I've devised
the most insidious plan

you could even imagine.

You see, I want y'all
to pick tobacky.

[growling]

Wow! I haven't felt this level
of Mason-Dixon sexual tension

since Barney Fife was in
the kitchen with Aunt Bee.

Shut up!
Shut up!

You all do what I say,

and everything'll
go just as smooth

as a lung full of
mentholated nicotine.

Break the rules,
and so help me God,

I'll be all over you

like Louie Anderson
at a bake sale.

And now for the recitation
of the rules:

Now wait just a...

Anyone interrupting the
recitation of the rules

will spend a day
in the box.

[all gasp]

Now, as I was saying...

Just a ruby-redneck
minute here.

I've got some complaints.

First off, where are
the topless Tantric
massage therapists?

The bursitis in my soon-to-be
tobacco-picking right arm

hasn't been this inflamed
since I bought

the Shannon Tweed
laser disc box set.

Secondly,
this tar-heeled humidity

is absolutely disgustifying.

How about building
an air-conditioned dome,

with naked
cosmetically- augmented

trapeze artists overhead,

so one could not only
pick tobacco without chafing

but also
be delightfully entertained?

Thirdly...

Congratulations,
young fella.

You just earned
yourself a week
in the box.

[all gasp]

[screams]
Not the box!

I'm afraid of tight places.

That is to
say, certain
tight places.

[chuckles]

No! Sweet mother of mercy!

Not the box!

Don't put me in the box!

Don't put me in the box!

No! Please!

[whimpers]

Huh? When did I get
a tattoo there?

I'm hot and sweaty.

I'm thirsty
and nauseous.

And I miss Teddy.

Oh, we'll be home soon

and you can hug
your little teddy bear.

Not my teddy, Aunt Bernice.

Teddy Kennedy.

He invited me to a kegger
at the compound.

Will we ever
get out of here?

Of course we will.

And you
want to know why?

Because our neighbors
must have noticed

we haven't been home
for a while

and they're going
to do something about it.

[all laughing]

Why, I bet the police

are out looking for us
right now.

[snickering]

Hey, and let's
not forget Cornfed.

He's probably waiting
by the front door

till we get back.

[Muzak playing]

We're going
to get out of here.

I promise.

[faintly]:
I promise.

Oh, if I weren't trying to
be cool smoking cigarettes,

none of this would
have happened.

Nobody's blaming you, Mambo.

I am! These conditions
are inhuman.

This place is going
to k*ll us, I tell you.

It's going to k*ll us all!

Man, this country living
is fine-tastic.

Who'd have thought
being shoved in a box

with your ankles
behind your ears

could be such a rush?

Anyhoo, I got a few minutes

before being shoved
back in the box.

Got it booked for the High Holy
Days, you know, and, uh...

No offense, team,

but I've seen
peppier-looking roadkill.

Might I suggest a multivitamin?

[sobbing]:
Don't you see, Duckman?

This place
is k*lling us!

On your feet,
Miss Bernice.

Break time's over.

What? We picked
every single leaf of tobacco

on this plantation.

True. But we still need
some guinea pigs

to test the addictiveness
of our new king-sized lights.

Walt, please!

We're not going
to make it!

Guess you should
have thought of that

before you rode
your liberal high
horse into town.

You and your kinfolk

gonna be sl*ve to
the tobacco industry

for the rest of
your natural lives.

[laughing]

That's it!

I've had it!

[gasping]

Lousy stinking screw.

Nobody treats me like that
and gets away with it.

ALL:
Grandma-ma?!

Guess again.

Rosie O'Donnell?

[whooping]

I'll give you a hint:

Hyah!

Remember a few months back...

when I busted out of Death Row?

And then I pulled a switcheroo
with your Grandma-ma,

who just so happens
to look just like me.

Ha!

Sure, you caught on
and called the cops.

But right before
they cuffed me

I pulled yet another switcheroo.

These past few months

I've been pretending
to be your Grandma-ma,

but it's really been
little old me all along.

Agnes Delrooney?!

Miss me, baby?

Mm-mwa!

[both spitting]

If you're Agnes,

then the real Grandma-ma
is rotting away

in some lice-infested
prison cell.

[Godfather-like music playing]

Uh-oh,
better get going

while the going's
still good.

Move it, petunia.

Yahh!

Oh, for God's sake,
please, get help!

Dahh!

[screaming]

Argh! My effin' back!

[grunts]

Try to keep up, butch.

Button your lip, Mary.

You fake being catatonic
for six months.

Then see how easy it is
running for your life.

Okay, people, listen up:

I want a hard-target search
of every outhouse,

beach house, warehouse,
boathouse, smokehouse,

clubhouse, icehouse, hothouse,
white house, cr*ck house,

bathhouse, doghouse,
cathouse, reptile house,

halfway house, slaughterhouse,

haunted house, gingerbread house
and Joe Eszter-house

in the tri-swamp area,

and people, I want 'em
brought back alive.

Aw, who am I kidding?

This is the Deep South.

Let's bring 'em back dead.

[cheering]

[panting]

Hey, Dingleheimer,
I want to thank you

for waiting on me hand and foot
these last few months.

When I think of all the times
I had to shave your shoulders

or trowel boil salve
on your hideous white butt

or scrape Fromunda cheese
off your toenails...

I remember a certain little
thing you seemed to enjoy.

Well, sure, live guppy enemas
are always entertaining.

My point, Agnes,
is that you stink--

both literally
and, uh, the other "'tively."

Save your fancy words,
college boy.

The only way
you're going to impress me

is getting us out
of East Jerkwaterville.

Hmm. I got an idea.

Are you sure this is
the only way across that stream?

It is without getting wet,
fruit cup.

Now, quit your yapping
and pull your weight.

Speaking of weight, things
would be a lot easier for me

if Planet Agnes didn't have its
own massive gravitational pull.

Why, I oughta...

[yells]
[grunts]

[screams]

[grunts]

[screams]

[squeaking]

[moaning]:
Oh...

[laughs]

Have I told you lately
that I hate you?

Oh, I'm deeply hurt.

Please like me, Poindexter.

I want so much
for you to like me.

I'd rather drive cross country
with the road company of Rent

than spend a second
with the likes of you.

Them's fightin' words,
limp wrist.

Maybe you'd like
to take a swing at me.

Come on, Mighty Joe Louis.

You want a piece of me?

Let's go, milk dud!

Hit me
with your best sh*t!

Fire away!

[grunts]

Did somebody punch me,

or was that
a gentle summer's breeze?

[shrieking]

[grunting]

[weak chuckle]

[groans]

[hounds baying]

Good news, Captain,
we gave the bloodhounds

one of the old lady's
undergarments

and after they stopped
convulsing

it looks like they picked up
their trail!

Well, what do you know?

I guess our little rumba
broke our charm bracelet.

And not a momento too soon.

Last thing I need
is an att*ck dog

mistaking my heinie
for kibble and bits.

Thanks for everything, Aggie--

the beatings, the put-downs,
the incessant loogie hawking.

You shall be missed.

[groaning]

Old Bagnes--

storm troopers
right around the bend.

Wouldn't this be the time
to bust a move?

I can't feel my legs.

Como?

My legs, you dumb Dora.

I guess I fell funny
back there.

Well, you got to do something.
Roll! Bounce! Levitate!

Put a fork in me, skeezix.

This bird's done.

Still, I could think
of worse ways to go.

Want to hear something funny?

These past few months

have been some of the best times
of my life--

being part of a family, and all.

[gulps]

Heck, if I had a family
like yours

maybe I'd have gone on to become
something respectable--

you know, like a forger
or an extortionist,

instead of this old, lost soul.

[dogs baying]

MAN:
Whoa, Ed!

Hey, this way!

Well, what are you waiting for?

Go save your family.

Go on! b*at it.

Uh, no offense, Ignatz,
but I ain't in the mood for sex.

What?

DUCKMAN [straining]:
I'm taking you with me,

and I don't want to hear
any more lip!

¿Comprendo?

[dogs barking]

Hard human targets in sight.

Fire at will.

[panting]

[g*nshots continue
in distance]

Ya!

Hey! Open up!

Help!

[g*n cocks]

[laughs]

You two might as well
save your last breath.

You see, we're
the tobacco industry.

We've taken on doctors,
lawyers, presidents--

and we're still making
more money than ever.

Ain't nobody
going to help you now.

Tony Randall?!

Good day, madam.

May I be of...

[sniffs]

Young man, this is
a smoke-free zone.

Mr. Randall,
I happen to be president

of one of them so-called
evil tobacco companies.

He's trying
to k*ll us!

Of course he is.

The tobacco companies
are vampires

preying on the lungs
of our children

and the circulatory system
of our society.

He means k*ll us now.

I've been dreaming
of this moment

Mr. Anti-smoking
New York City thespian.

Why, I'll bet you're
probably Jewish, too.

Be that as it may...

eeka-beeka-boo, my dear.

Eeka... beeka... boo!

I don't believe it!

Tony Randall turned
them into bugs!

Orthoptera locustidae,
to be precise

although you probably
know them

as tobacco-eating locusts.

Fly on, insatiable little ones.

Be fruitful and multiply

and devour every last
tobacco plant on this planet.

Holy tamale!

How'd you do it, Tony?

While people always
think of me

as Felix Unger
or Jonathan in Pillow Talk

they always seem to forget

I was also the star
and technical consultant of...

the 7 Faces of Dr. Lao.

The Seven Whazzis
of Dr. Whozis?

It's a renter,

available at your
local Blockbuster.

Make it a
Blockbuster
night.

[fanfare]

Hey, Mambo,
we're being honored

for busting
the tobacco industry

all because you got busted
for smoking a cigarette.

Ironic, isn't it?

Don't you ever shut up?

You know, Agnes, for
a psycho-thrill-k*lling

convicted felon-- now
conveniently pardoned
by the president--

you ain't half bad.

You ain't too shabby yourself,
liver lips.

How's about a toast
to celebrate

our return to civilization?

WOMAN:
Hey! They've
got alcohol!

Municipal Health Code 1914

expressly prohibits
the consumption

of alcoholic beverages

without posting
proper health warnings.

Duckman, Agnes,
I'm afraid you're under arrest.

[laughing]
[laughing]

MAN:
Eeka... beeka... boo!