[THEME SONG PLAYING]
♪ Ace Ventura...
All righty, then.
♪ Pet detective on the run...
[CACKLES]
[ELEPHANT TRUMPETS]
♪ Ace Ventura...
[LAUGHS]
♪ Doesn't even have a g*n...
Yes! Yes!
Whoa!
[GASPS]
[BOTH CHIRP]
[SHEEP BLEATS]
[SCREAMS]
-[SCREAMS] -[ROARS]
♪ Ace Ventura...
-[HORN HONKS] -Ace Ventura, pet detective.
[ELEPHANT TRUMPETS]
♪ Pet detective on the run ♪
[CACKLES]
-[INDISTINCT CHATTERING] -MAN: This is his best work yet.
MAN: I can't wait to see the unveiling of Mr. Stubbins' newest masterpiece.
It's sure to win tonight's art competition.
Oh, it'll be simply smashing.
[CAR HONKING]
Oh, my goodness!
-[CHATTERS] -[SCREAMS]
[ALL GASP]
[TALKS GIBBERISH]
I think you'll find all my papers in order,
and fill her up with unleaded.
[CHATTERING]
[GASPS]
[GRUNTS]
We've d*ed and gone to all-you-can-eat heaven.
My free-loading flea catcher. Buffet banzai!
[CHATTERING]
Mission control, we have lift off!
[CACKLES]
And a moist towelette just waiting for us.
[BURPS]
You must be one of the artists.
I can't imagine how else to explain your lack of fashion.
[LAUGHS]
And you must be the art critic, Sir Gerald Nose Hair.
I can't imagine how else to explain your lack of personality.
The name is Sir Gerald Camel Hair.
Not from down here.
You... You are a barbarian.
Only on weekends and alternate Thursdays,
but thanks for noticing,
-camel snot. -[BLOWS RASPBERRY]
Ahoy! The great Mr. Stubbins.
I hope his paintings are better than his tailor.
Why can't you be a cash cow like Stubbins
-instead of a monkey drain. -[GRUNTS AND BLOWS RASPBERRY]
-MARJORIE: No! -She must have had the dip.
Help! Is there anyone here who can help me?
Gee, let me think.
Let's see, double chin, leather skin,
not too thin, ugly as sin.
You must be Marjorie Butter.
Oh, please. Mr. Stubbins is missing.
Ace Ventura, pet detective.
[CRYING]
-[GASPS] -Blow.
-[SPIKE SCREECHES] -[BLOWS NOSE]
-[GROWLING] -Do not seek aid
from this so-called pet detective.
He's insufferably rude.
Uh-oh.
Stick a fork in it, camel toe, 'cause you're done.
[CACKLES]
The little dear was having a nap-nap.
I came into the studio to wake him, and he was gone.
Unlike your hips.
All righty, then, my main mystery monkey,
let's take a look-see at Mr. Stubbins' studio.
I spy with my giant eye
a big bowl of kitty yummy yums.
Crunchy, just how I like 'em.
-Wow. Dig this crazy meow mix. -Wow.
Talk about diamonds in the rough.
That's carat, but it's no diamond.
-Ew! -[EXCLAIMS]
-Do not go in there. -[SCREAMS]
Take a peek, my finger-painting primate.
The painting Mr. Stubbins was working on
for tonight's art contest.
-SPIKE: Uh-huh. -Look, you can still see
-the numbers. -Uh-huh.
ACE: Well, cr*ck my egg and serve me sunny side up.
It appears our little fat cat
left us more than his credit card bill.
M for clue.
-[GASPS] -Okay.
[EXCLAIMS] Watercolor boots.
I'm out. I can't get out.
[CHATTERING]
[GASPS]
You forgot the pastels.
Thank goodness this isn't a marble statue exhibit.
Snobs and snob-ettes, my uncanny brain a la mode
has deduced that Mr. Stubbins has indeed been catnapped.
But he did leave us with this lovely parting gift.
One of you is guilty of more than just a bad haircut.
Mr. Stubbins was catnapped by someone in this very room,
and I can prove it.
[ALL GASP]
Preposterous!
How can you substantiate such a foolish claim?
Piece of pumpkin pie, camel ear.
I'll know exactly who did it after one tiny TEST Torino.
Nope, not enough elbow.
Nope, you're free to go.
Nope, too much backspin.
Mr. Ventura. Mr. Ventura. Come quickly.
Let me guess, lost your car keys?
Congratulations, Mr. Ventura.
You won first place in the art competition.
I call itMonkey de Milo.
[EMOTIONALLY] I'd like to spank each and every one of you.
Spank you. Spank you.
I've never been happier.
Except for the first time I discovered my belly button.
But me and the cement chimp have one small request.
Abandon ship!
The trophy is a bigger b*mb than this party.
Eeny, meeny, miny...
Hey, Moe! Love that moe.
[CACKLES]
[GRUNTS]
I mean, meeny. I mean, eeny.
[SCREAMS]
[TROPHY BEEPING]
[CHATTERING]
Hasta la bomba,baby.
[CUCKOOS]
Boom.
Mr. Ventura, you just threw away
a rare antique cuckoo clock trophy.
I won the trophy, but no one said I had to keep it.
[CRIES]
But what about poor Mr. Stubbins?
Did you discover anything in his studio?
Peter Piper may have picked a pack of pickled peppers.
But Ace Ventura put the K in clue.
It appears that Mr. Stubbins was trying to tell us
the catnaper's name started with an M.
Gee, Marjorie, who did Mr. Stubbins know, Marjorie?
Who has a name starting with M, Marjorie?
I... I can't think of anyone.
Call me crazy, but I knew she was gonna say that.
Wait! Maynard.
Maynard van Gogogh.
The headmaster of Mr. Stubbins' old art school.
He and Mr. Stubbins were rivals
when they were students together.
Oh, really? [CHUCKLES]
Form is a key element
to the classical Greek chin, which...
How dare you interrupt my lecture!
How dare you lecture my interruption!
[CHATTERING]
The beatnik baboon says that no one talks to,
at, or with the great Ace Casso.
[GASPS] Ace Casso, a thousand apologies.
I had no idea. I'm Maynard van Gogogh.
Speak to the monkey.
Ace Casso, I would be honored if you would critique my art.
ACE: Anyone got a Q-tip?
The horror! The horror!
[GASPS]
Pinata! Pinata!
-Pinata! -[GRUNTS]
[SPITS]
[GROWLS]
-We have a winner. -[TRIUMPHANTLY CHATTERS]
-KID : I want chocolate. -KID : I want chocolate.
-KID : I want chocolate. -KID : I love it all.
What have you done to my sculpture?
It's called art, baby. Dig it.
[CHATTERING]
The dung fling and daddy-o
says Ace Casso will now grace you
with his artistic brilliance.
[FINGERS SNAPPING]
BeholdThe Stinker.
[FINGER SNAPPING]
[FINGER SNAPPING]
Dang! I'm good!
Creation is so creative.
Ace Casso must rest.
-Genius needs its lunchy poo. -Yes, Ace Casso. You can...
Speak to the monkey.
-Uh-huh! -Ace Casso.
[CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY] Ace Casso.
I brought you everything you...
I know. I know. The monkey.
Okay, Spaynard, where's Mr. Stubbins?
I... I've never heard of that no talent,
wannabe painter who could never paint better than me
regardless of what everyone else
in the world thinks. Bum!
Fess up, May-nerd.
I'm on to you like stink on spike.
Well...
...look what the cat dragged in.
I hate that painting fur ball, but I didn't catnap the thing.
Is it school policy to hire wackos,
or are you just filling some state quota?
Please don't get me fired.
You... You have to believe me. I didn't take the cat.
Talk to the monkey.
Mmm.
[READING]
Okay, Goonard, you're off the hook.
I'll mail you the negatives.
Maybe. [CACKLES]
[CHATTERING]
Yes. Maynard does seem to be the guilty party, my rhetorical races.
But while we were playing pin the crime on the loser,
my vitamin-A-keen eyeballs
caught a news item about Mr. Stubbins' paintings
becoming more expensive since his disappearance.
Making a logic leap, only slightly smaller than the Grand Canyon.
I've deduced Mr. Stubbins was catnapped for money.
[GASPS FOR BREATH]
We need to flush out the villain,
and you're just the prodigy primate to do it.
-So, you paint much? -[SPIKE GRUNTS]
[CHATTERING]
-[BLOWS RASPBERRY] -Yes. Yes.
You'll get the cable remote tonight.
But no one said anything about the weekend.
A deal's a deal!
[CHATTERING]
Mr. Ventura, the auction is ready to start.
The great Mr. Monkey will finish the mess.
I mean, painting.
I'll go calm the natives.
Daddy Warbucks and buckets,
the great Mr. Monkey is ready.
Anyone with checks or credit cards on the left,
and any would-be kidnappers on the right.
I present Mr. Monkey.
Mr. Monkey.
[ALL CLAMORING]
A to Spike.
MAN: He's a crook!
[CACKLES]
-He's a fake. -Don't believe him.
MAN: He's trying to steal our money.
[INDISTINCT CHATTER]
[CHUCKLES NERVOUSLY] And now for my next magic trick.
Look,Whistler's Mother!
HolyWheel of Fortune,Batman!
More painted M, mystery mayhem.
Tear it all doo-doo-doo. It's been so well.
Why did Mr. Stubbins and Spike both paint the letter M?
M is for Monday.
M is for manatee.
M is formezzo-soprano.
M is for...
[TIRES SCREECH]
Stop the presses and fire the editor. M isn't a letter.
M is for camel.
Stubbins and Spike weren't painting the letter M.
They were painting camel humps,
and every school boy knows what camel humps are made of.
Camel hair.
Whoa. Who sneezed?
Here, Spiky, Spiky, Spiky.
[SCREAMS AND GRUNTS]
[EXCLAIMING]
[CACKLES]
[SPIKE CHATTERING]
I'll take what's behind Curtain No. .
[CHATTERING]
[MEOWS]
Hmm. What's the title, my artistically-challenged ape?
Lost Lunch?
We've got to get out of here before camel butt realizes...
-[GRUNTS] -...you were just a setup.
The name is Camel Hair.
You sure know how to pick your noses.
-[SQUEALS] -[GRUNTS]
I like hanging out with you, Spike.
-Uh-huh. -But don't you think this is a bit ridiculous?
[SCREECHING]
Goodbye, Mr. Ventura.
As you and your no-talent monkey con artist sink into that vat of plaster,
know that my final wish for you is to learn manners in the afterlife. [LAUGHS]
ACE: Do you have any lotion? Plaster chafes my tum-tum.
When I return, I shall be rich
from selling this foul feline's paintings at today's auction,
and you shall be little more than a statue.
Couldn't you just paint my portrait?
[LAUGHS]
Laugh while you can, detective.
Okay. [CACKLES]
Come on, my gravity gibbon, make my descendant swing.
[CHATTERING]
Well, look on the bright side, the pigeons will love us.
You did it, Spike. Remind me to give you a vacation.
[CHATTERING]
-Yes, with pay. -[GIGGLES]
Looks like that summer at beaver camp
is finally gonna pay off.
And now, the next item
up for bid from the Stubbins collection
is a newly-discovered painting owned by Sir Gerald Camel Hair.
The bidding will start at $,.
I see , go one, two, two buckle my shoe,
bidding three, four, four, four close the door,
five, five, five, got a six, got a six.
[ACE IN THINK VOICE] Ex-squeeze me,
mind if I join the party?
$,!
Do I hear two? Two, two, someone give me a two.
Two hundred.
Two hundred and twenty.
Two hundred and forty.
Two hundred and forty eight.
Two hundred and farty hind.
Uh, sold. Sold to the, uh...
Do you take cheeks?
Ah!Ode to mange. One of my...
Wait, this isn't a Stubbins original.
Even a hippo could paint better than this.
This painting is a fake.
[GASPS] Nonsense! Your claim is entirely...
Ventura, how did you get here? You... You should be a statue.
You'll have to speak louder, camel head.
I seem to have incriminating evidence in my ears.
Hey, I didn't say class dismissed.
Whoa!
[GRUNTS]
[CHATTERING]
Nice work, my banana skin baboon.
You keep an eye on camel dump, and I'll find Mr. Stubbins.
Ah, yes, the Persian long hair, twelve retractable claws,
twenty eight teeth, and six pounds of attitude.
-Or in this case... -[MEOWS]
...latitude.
SIR GERALD: You haven't won yet, Ventura.
You're just the gift that keeps on giving, aren't you?
-[EXCLAIMS] -You've ruined all my plans for riches,
and made me the laughing stock of the art community.
I thought your hairpiece did that.
Step aside, or your smelly little ape gets it.
Duh!
He's a chimp.
[CHATTERING]
-[WHISPERING] -[YOWLS]
[CONTINUES WHISPERING]
Bombs away!
Oh, thank you so much
for finding my little Mr. Stub Stubs.
How can I ever repay you?
Well, you could start by just paying me.
But tell me,
how on earth did you get Mr. Stubbins to cough up hair balls like that?
L-M-N-O-P, my dear Marjorie.
I told him he paints like a dog.
[YOWLS]
Incoming!
[CACKLES]
Hmm.
Needs more blue, or maybe green.
I wanna hear those brushes sing.
Rent's due in one week.
[CACKLING]
Yes, can you feel it? Dang, I'm good!
[CACKLES]
[THEME SONG PLAYING]