01x09 - David And Goonliath

[bunniefuu]

♪

(Honking)

Whoa!

Whoa!

Ah!

♪

♪

You've got him, Diver.

Hit him with your air t*nk!

Come on, grab him!

That what his hair's for!

Uh, Gram-Gram?

Shh!

Come on, Diver!

Come on!

Go, Caveman!

Come on, you hairy Neanderthal,

pin flipper boy to the mat!

Ooh, hit him with the ref!

Come on!

(Screaming)

(Exploding)

(Moaning)

You know it's all staged,

right?

Oh, you don't have to tell

me about wrestling.

I once dated one of the meanest,

bone-breakingest,

neck-twistingest, cow-bitingest

wrestlers in the Worldwide

Wrestling League.

Oh, gosh, he was cute.

Gram-Gram, what happened to

the pillow?

Gram-Gram was just telling me

about the wrestler she used to

date.

You used to date a big,

tough, nasty wrestler?

Remember, this was years

ago.

It was probably someone like

Nose Flicking Lad, or the Cheek

Pincher.

Oh, yeah, the Stuffer and I

were quite an item.

The Stuffer?

You dated the host of the

Worldwide Wrestling League?

You know the Stuffer?

Well, W.W. Duh.

Everyone knows the Stuffer.

Back in the day, he used to

stuff things into his opponents'

tights.

GRAM-GRAMI once saw him

stuff a picnic table up a guy's

shirt.

Plus a picnicking family of

three.

Back in the day?

I saw it in the wrestling

flashback special, “Oldies but

Hurties.”

Didin't he have this weirdo

arch-enemy?

Ha, fancy you knowing about

the Masked Prune.

The what?

Oh, no one ever knew the

Masked Prune's true identity.

Oh, there were rumours.

Some say he was an aristocrat,

expelled from his country for

playing rough croquet.

Others say he was a Russian

ballet dancer, who had a

breakdown during his th

performance of Swan Lake.

(Crashing)

Whoever he was, one day he

disappeared as mysteriously as

he'd appeared.

Oh, sorry kids, what was it

you wanted?

Oh, yeah.

Dad was sniffing the ice cubes

for freshness again.

His face is stuck in the

freezer.

(Grunting)

(Sighing)

(Knuckles cracking)

And then I take his left

thumb, and I put it in his right

ear.

And then I take his right thumb,

and I put it in his left ear.

That way, he can't hear me

sneaking up behind him.

Don't tell me you're

seriously into this wrestling

junk.

It's not junk.

Take that back!

Okay, ex-squeeze me.

What have we here?

Some geek auditioning for The

Pirates of Penzance?

I'm not a pirate, I'm the

Blacksmith.

I b*at my opponents' body parts

into the shape of horseshoes.

(Laughing)

You couldn't even b*at an

egg.

Help, it's a big egg!

(Laughing)

(All laughing)

You couldn't even wrestle

rubber legs here.

Leave Goon alone.

I happen to know a personal

friend of the Stuffer, and when

the WWL comes to town, he's

gonna give him some pointers.

Really?

Maybe the Stuffer can explain

to him that you need more than a

mask and half a brain to be a

wrestler.

You also need guts.

(Clucking)

It's a good thing you held me

back.

You really, like, know

someone who knows the Stuffer?

Well, yeah, kinda.

Is he really gonna coach

Goon?

Um, you know...

I'm gonna be a champion!

How's the champ?

(Grunting)

I feel good.

You're gonna feel even

better.

My uncle got me four tickets to

Wrestlerama.

And I'm, like, giving this pair

to you.

No!

Yes.

No!

Yes!

Uh, what do I owe ya?

Nothing.

But I figure a guy with, like,

your muscles could help me lift

a few things up to my tree

house.

(Grunting)

I have two more, Julie, if you'd

like to go.

And do my science homework for a

week.

Oh, look, it's the Blackbird.

Blacksmith.

I think Blackbird is a better

name for you.

It's more like a chicken.

(Clucking)

Thanks for holding me back,

Ace.

I'd just like seconds in the

ring with that big-headed goof.

I'd...I'd...

(Gasping)

(Groaning)

Dad, you know how keen Goon

is to be a wrestler, right?

Well, I wonder if you could ask

Gram-Gram to speak to her

friend, the Stuffer, and see if

he could give Goon a few

wrestling pointers.

Maybe get him into the show

somehow.

I mean, it is all staged,

right?

He can't get hurt.

Gram-Gram?

, Oh, I haven't seen the

Stuffer since I was years

old.

Why, that must be over years

ago.

Besides, wrestling ain't for

kids.

But they've had women in the

ring, and dwarves and bears.

Since it's just entertainment

anyway, why not a kid?

Hm, well, the Stuffer's

always looking for a gimmick.

Let me give him a call.

Thanks, Gram-Gram.

(Thudding)

Tell your dad the car will be

another day.

And who are you supposed to

be?

The Blue Angel, championship

contender, guardian angel

division.

I got a great gimmick.

You know how they can't hit you

when you're in the neutral

corner?

Well, I invented the neutral

corner backpack.

Brilliant.

So, what's the advice du jour?

Here it is, buster.

You will not see your friend

wrestle!

Do I make myself clear?

What do you mean, I won't see

him wrestle?

Gram-Gram already called the

Stuffer.

He said it was a sure thing.

It's a lock.

Do you dare to contradict

Blue Angel?

Look, I'm doing a good deed

for a friend.

Leave me alone.

Go change colour or something.

(Coughing)

Me, wrestling with

professionals?

Thanks, buddy!

(Clucking)

I'd run after you if Pelswick

wasn't holding me back!

Hold me back.

Look, kid, I'm doing this for

Priscilla, for old time's sake.

I don't want your boy to get

hurt.

So the Jackhammer here is gonna

explain to you all the moves.

You make sure your boy follows

them exactly.

Otherwise...

(Crumbling)

I know the moves.

This isn't, like, necessary,

man.

(Screaming)

I've been watching Wednesday

night Wrestlerama since I was .

Which is like for most people.

Goon, I had a long

conversation with Mr. Hammer.

You met the Jackhammer?

Yeah, he gave me some

pointers for you.

What are we waiting for?

What did he say?

Okay, first, when the Hammer

grabs you...

He's gonna grab me?

Yeah, just scream and push

his left shoulder.

Yeah, that's his weak

shoulder, eh?

Uh, sure.

(Screaming)

Just think, TV waves travel

at the measly speed of light.

Which means in person, I'll be

seeing it four thousandths of a

second before you get it at

home.

(Cheering)

ANNOUNCERWelcome back,

wrestling fans.

Here's your host, the Stuffer,

to announce tonight's--

Wait, is that...

I don't believe it.

It's the Masked Prune!

It's been years since the

Prune was last seen in the

ring.

!

Gram-Gram?

(Gasping)

The Masked Prune!

Hm.

Thought I was all dried up,

eh, Stuffer?

No, no!

I have awakened, just like

Rip Van Wrinkle.

(Laughing)

(Cheering)

This ain't over, Masked

Prune.

You're so cowardly and so ugly,

you dare not show your face!

Next time, I'll stuff four

pounds of blue cheese up that

mask.

You hear me, Prune?

Even if it takes another

years.

GRAM-GRAM!

ANNOUNCERNow, folks, a

local boy called the Blacksmith

is gonna tackle three-time

golden belt holder, Jackhammer!

(Cheering)

♪

Jackhammer is fighting a

local junior high student, and

coincidently, a friend of my

niece, Sandra Scoddle, who's

with us tonight.

Thank you, Uncle Mike.

And let me, like, say my only

regret is that my best friend,

Julie, is missing this because

she's such a pig-headed,

prideful fusspot.

Oh, oh.

Oh.

(Cheering)

Oh, ooh.

Well, what do you know?

Mr. Jimmy was wrong.

I did see my friend wrestle.

I'm not your friend.

I'm nobody's friend!

I'm the Blacksmith!

(Cheering)

Huh?

(Grunting)

I'm a lean, mean,

horseshoe-ing machine.

And for my next match, I

challenge Boyd Scullarzo, the

well-known chicken

impersonator, to a steel cage

suspended over boiling tar

grudge match.

You hear me, Scull-lughead?

Don't make me come out and get

you!

(Screaming)

How about the Masked Prune

showing up last night, huh?

Wasn't that fun seeing your

friend wrestle?

(Sighing)

I saw him wrestle, but

apparently he's not my friend.

Oh, Stuffer's had dozens of

calls about the boiling tar

thing.

He's gonna promote the heck out

of it.

I'd better talk to him.

I know you're worried about

your friend, but this thing's

bigger than both of us.

We can't cheat that audience out

of the wrestling event of the

year.

But Boyd's a real bully, and

Goon's just--

The Blacksmith.

Okay, the Blacksmith,

whatever.

He can't pull this off.

He didn't b*at the Jackhammer,

we staged it, right?

Goon--

The Blacksmith.

The stupid Blacksmith, you

know he couldn't fight his way

out of a paper bag.

Paper bags.

I like it.

Two wrestlers, two bags.

They don't come out of the ring

until one of them's been folded.

(Grunting)

No, listen.

And we fill the bags with

fire ants.

(Screaming)

(Laughing)

I like the way you think, kid.

Here's two front rows for the

grudge match.

Take a friend.

(Sighing)

Actually, I figure Goon's got

a percent chance of getting

seriously hurt.

You should tell him it was

rigged before this goes to his

head.

I'll see if I know anyone

who knows him.

Hope you like boiling tar,

Scullarzo.

The Blacksmith's gonna make sure

it's real hot for you.

I hope he likes the taste of

anvil.

(Laughing)

You mean those little fish

you put on pizza?

No, not those little fish you

put on pizza!

(Growling)

The whole school's got

wrestle fever.

♪ I'm M.C. V.P. and you know

that ♪

♪ Put on your bib, ‘cause you're

gonna eat some mat ♪

♪ Uh-huh

(Spitting)

Julie, aren't you sorry your

foolish pride made you miss the

big fight?

Actually, I didn't miss it.

It hasn't happened yet.

Where are you?

I can't tell you now, but

it's something I have to do.

Gotta go.

I am now the Raja.

I put my opponents on the magic

carpet of pain!

Uh, what's with the sheep?

That's Ali Baa Baa.

(Drumming)

Get it?

Baa, ‘cause it's a sheep.

Yeah, I get it.

Could we do some guardian

angel-ing while you're here?

Only for a minute, I left my

camel double parked.

(Drumming)

How do I save Goon?

You mean, the Blacksmith!

Okay, okay, the Blacksmith!

You can't, for he will lose

to...

The Crusher!

The Crusher?

Who's the Crusher?

Sorry, gotta go.

(Bleating)

That's my electric pencil

sharpener.

(Gasping)

MR. JIMMYThat tickles!

(Grunting)

Why, if it isn't my former

trainer/manager, Mr. Eggert.

Goon, I--

Eh, Mr. Smith to you.

Guess you wanna hear the details

of my upcoming grudge match.

I'll tell you the details.

You're gonna lose.

Lose?

L-O-S-H?

Uh, that's losh.

You know who you're talking

to?

I don't need you or anybody

else.

I can do this on my own, for I

am the Blacksmith.

(Screaming)

Booyah.

Poor Goon.

It's all my fault for letting

this get out of hand.

And when poor Goon ends up as a

lump of tar-covered street

pizza, that'll be my fault too.

This week, the Blacksmith

takes on Boyd “The Bully”

Scullarzo, in a cage over

boiling tar grudge match!

Hey, you!

Oh, hey, don't!

We're on the air.

I wanna tell that

onion-livered chicken

impersonator, Boyd Scullarzo,

I'm gonna tear him limb from

limb from limb from--

How many limbs is that?

I think you got one left.

From limb!

I'm gonna stuff my hand down

his throat and steal his

wallet.

(Screaming)

What's the matter?

Goon's gonna get b*at up and

thrown out of a tiny cage into

a bucket of hot tar.

Cool.

(Crushing)

What's that?

A phone booth, dude, for you

to tear in half.

(Sighing)

I said phone book!

Oh.

Gummy limbs?

I'm not hungry.

Poor Goon.

Even though he turned into a

jerky friend, he's my jerky

friend.

In five more minutes, he's gonna

get whomped by the Crusher.

The who?

(Crushing)

Wait.

For he will lose to...

The Crusher!

Who's the Crusher?

(Crushing)

(Crushing)

Boyd isn't the Crusher.

Of course!

Kate, I need you to do me a

favour.

If you're going to be a

world-famous wrestler, you'll

need a manager.

How much money do managers

get?

Oh, all of it.

Huh?

Good.

Save me having to count it.

(Door opening)

This is a private dressing room,

bozos.

Uh, bozo-ette.

Um, you never finished your

training, Goon.

I wanna introduce you to the

Crusher.

You want me to wrestle your

little sister?

You too chicken, Blackberry?

(Clucking)

That's Blacksmith.

(Clucking)

Maybe I should teach you a

lesson.

Don't worry, I've been

personally assured that nothing

can happen to you.

Hee-ya, ha!

(Grunting)

No, don't, ow!

That's the arm they have to hold

up when I win.

Come on, Goon.

Do some of those moves my

brother taught you.

(Screaming)

They don't seem to be

working.

Thanks, Kate.

You can let him go now.

Kate?

I'm sorry, Goon, no one was

supposed to get hurt.

And no one would have been,

until tonight, anyway.

Don't you see what happened?

Yeah.

I need another six months of

training, then pow, smash, look

out!

Oh, manager.

Ex-manager.

Loser.

Come on, Julie, let's go to

Burger Barrel so you can forgive

me.

Okay.

But first, I have one little

stop to make.

Thanks, I finally figured out

the clue.

What clue?

Oh, hey, meet the Crusher.

Meet the...

This is the Crusher?

You mean Kate wasn't the

Crusher?

Kate?

She's years old.

But I...she was...she could

have...

Ooh.

What do you mean, you ain't

fightin'?

Don't worry, Mr. Stuffer.

Pelswick found a substitute.

Where are ya, Goon?

Slight change, folks.

Instead of the Blacksmith, Boyd

Scullarzo will be fighting the

Masked Prune.

The Masked Prune?

Help!

Whoa!

Help!

And, holy smokes, there seems

to be some unplanned action in

the centre ring.

JULIEHee-ya ha, ha, hee-ya!

♪