01x08 - Aaiiieee Robot/The Glazed McGuffin Affair

[bunniefuu]

ANCHOR: We interrupt this

program to bring you a

late-breaking development.

A giant rogue meteor is on a

direct path with Earth.

Citizens are urged to remain

calm and take all the

necessary precautions one would

expect to take in the waning

moments before the cataclysmic

impact of an unyielding meteor.

What is it?

MAX: Fear not, good citizens!

The Mega Max 3000 is here to

serve and protect.

While causing millions in

gratuitous property damage.

And to think our guidance

counsellor wanted us to pursue

a career in auto detailing.

[Police siren wailing]

♪ Sam and Max

♪ Sam and Max

[Phone ringing]

♪ Sam and Max

♪

♪ Sam and Max

♪ Freelance police

♪ Sam and Max

♪ Freelance police

[Dance music playing]

SAM: I thought we had an

agreement, Max.

The geek's plodding freelance

policing automaton can support

your adorable rabbity likeness

so long as I get to choose the

tunes.

Can't help it, Sam.

The image of myself the size of

a tacky airport theme restaurant

has driven me power-mad!

Power-mad, I tell you!

[Maniacal laughing]

We've just received word that

the meteor has penetrated our

atmosphere.

All I can say is put your heads

between your knees and kiss your

asteroid goodbye because nothing

short of the Second Coming can

save our miserable hides now!

There.

I said it, and I'm glad.

Meanwhile, over at Cape

Canaveral, a team of Earth's

best and brightest prepares to

preserve the last vestiges of

the human race by blasting

themselves into space.

Let me tell you something.

I, Professor Sidney

Schadenfreude, have hand-picked

these individuals to accompany

me on this arduous journey for

their unique, um, intellectual

capacities.

Anybody got a problem with that?

GEEK: Uh, guys, I hate to

interrupt, but I think it's time

we used the Mega Max for its

intended purpose.

I thought we were.

[Making fart noises]

SAM: Max, engage the special

meteor eradicating function,

stat.

Well, it looks like he got out

of that one, folks.

It's going, going...

Gone!

[Cheering]

PRESIDENT: Darla Gugenheek,

for your selfless contribution

to man and womankind, it's my

rare privilege to present you--

and those other fellas-- with

this big shiny medals of honour.

Well, what do you think of that,

huh?

SAM: I'm seriously

questioning the wisdom of

putting you in charge of the

arms, Max.

MAX: Look at it burn.

Tell me, young lady, what

does the future have in store

for this wondrous monstrosity?

Gee, I haven't given it much

thought.

What do you do with a robot

colossus once its usefulness has

run out?

Besides scrapping it for spare

parts.

SAM AND MAX: Nooo...!

Have you no feelings, woman?

You can't just dismantle our

baby like some long-forgotten

science fair project.

Well, we have to do

something.

We can't just let it rot in the

street.

But we need our ridiculously

oversized souvenir of fated

glory, because it's so...

useful!

SAM: Yeah, and these are just

a few of the many uses this

little giant provides.

Our Mega Max is perfect for

hauling nasty trash out to the

curb.

Not to mention opening those

stubborn jam jars.

It's a godsend when I'm late

picking the kids up at school.

[Children screaming]

And talk about the view!

Why, on a clear day you can

see almost all the way to the

giant robot in the next big

city.

GEEK: Those things are all

well and good, but I think the

Mega Max deserves better, and

you should too.

Gee, I never thought about it

that way.

These menial domestic tasks are

beneath our beloved automaton.

The Mega Max truly does deserve

better.

MAX: You mean we're putting

him to sleep?

Packing him off to the big

scrap yard in the sky?

Not quite, muttonhead.

We're taking him to Japan, where

it can engage other freakish

monstrosities of its kind and be

happy.

Road trip!

We'll have to stock up on

high-calibre snacks to keep us

bouncing off the ceiling ‘til

daybreak.

No time to stop, little pal.

We'll have to make due with that

gross of sugar-charged treats we

have stashed inside the robot's

cavernous nasal passages.

MAX: But that'll hardly get

us out of the harbour.

SAM: Courage, Max.

Courage.

Well, here we are in Japan, land

of the rising sun and home to

shambling, rubberized beasties

of all persuasions.

You know, this is exactly

what my dreams look like when I

eat green bananas in bed.

SAM: Looks like we got here

just in time.

This town is desperately in need

of our extreme brand of

unauthorized freelance policing.

Extreme freelance police.

Sounds like a

committee-generated notion for

next season, Sam.

Quiet, Max.

They'll hear you.

[Footsteps rumbling]

[Screaming]

Sweet mother in flats doing a

salty crabwise shuffle!

It's a titanic tyke!

They mutate so fast, don't

they?

Aieee!

Totzilla!

We have awakened him from his

afternoon slumber!

We must flee or die!

Now there's a new twist on a

tired old gag.

You said it, Joe.

MAX: Come on, you big baby!

You want a piece of me?

Is the big baby gonna cry?

Let's see you cry.

Daddy's precious little baby's

gonna gush like an evangelist.

[Crying]

Hang on!

Here we go!

SAM: Hold the phone, Max.

We appear to have hit a wee

snag.

Check out the fine print in the

instruction manual.

Warning, choking hazard.

This oversized automaton o'

destruction contains small parts

and is not recommended for

gigantic behemoths under three

years old.

Foiled once again by government

regulations and good common

sense!

SAM: We'll just have to find

some non-violent way to distract

the overgrown ankle-biter and

lull him into eternal sleepy-bye

time.

Perhaps this conveniently

abandoned pachinko parlour can

be of use.

MAX: Look what I got for you,

totsy.

[Rattling]

MAX: C'mon and get your

rattle-wattle.

♪ Rock-a-bye totsy, o'er the

treetops ♪

♪ When we trade blows, this

robot will rock ♪

♪ When the ground shakes, the

city will fall ♪

♪ And down will drop totsy,

diaper and all ♪

[Yawning]

SAM: Ha, you have a real way

with these gargantuan rugrats,

Max.

Leaves me all warm and gassy

inside.

Thanks, Sam.

But like all of your kind, you

can purge that feeling with a

mouthful of crabgrass.

Gee, that little shaver's a

light sleeper.

He must have a sore bum.

I may be sh**ting off my dog

lips here, Max, but I've got a

nagging notion that Totzilla's

economy-sized hissy fit is the

result of parental neglect and a

premature transition to solid

foods.

Then our mission is clear,

Sam.

Ooh, that's a big nipple.

MAX: Let the baby have his

bottle.

SAM: My ability to read

Japanese is sadly lacking, Max.

Are you sure that was a milk

tanker?

You wanted milk?

Well, I'll be.

It's noted Nobel laureate

Professor Schadenfreude and his

harem of Mensa-level attendants.

Yet another throwaway gag

ties directly into the A-story.

It's almost Aristotelian in its

beauty.

SCHADENFREUDE: That's right,

Sam and Max!

This was my sweet revenge for

the mess you made out of my

survival team mission!

I had dreams, and desires.

Not for me, but for the future

of all humanity.

Dreams, huh?

I'll bet you did.

And now you've foiled my

dreams of vengeance!

It's not fair, for crying out

loud in the mud!

I'll get you for this!

MAX: Easy, egghead.

Don't get your pocket protector

in a bunch.

I think we may have

inadvertently stumbled upon a

solution that will rectify all

of our problems.

You see, Professor, in this way,

you can continue your somewhat

twisted brand of scientific

research in outer space...

And our Mega Max gets a new

job.

Something worthy of its complete

and utter hugeness.

[Giggling]

SAM AND MAX: Goodbye!

Shedding a sentimental tear

for a noble deed well done?

That and the fact that we

just blew off our ride back

home.

Fear not, little pal.

We could always thumb a ride

with one of these cuddly

atrocities of nature.

[Screeching]

Don't worry, Max.

I've never seen them sh**t one

of these down yet.

That's good, because I'm

keeping this big guy.

I'm going to feed him and love

him and groom radioactive lice

out of his feathers every day.

What do you think?

I think you're one seriously

warped little rascal, Max.

Coming from you, that means

a lot, Sam.

♪ Forget your troubles

♪ Come on, get happy

♪ We're gonna chase all your

cares away ♪

♪ Shout Hallelujah, come on,

get happy ♪

♪ Today is Glazed McGuffin Day

♪ The sun is shining, the dough

is rising ♪

♪ The lard is boiling to take my

hand ♪

♪ Sha-booga-booga, come on,

get happy ♪

♪ We're headin' for the promised

land ♪

♪ Shout Hallelujah, come on,

get happy ♪

♪ Today is Glazed McGuffin Day

Yeah!

Yes, Max, life is good.

We have our health...

A pair of average-to-moderate

singing voices...

And a conveniently-located

Sloth Mart Grocery World

well-stocked with our favourite

snacking food of all time,

Glazed McGuffins.

Noooooo!

Our Glazed McGuffins!

They've been pulled off the

shelf!

Pulled!

Gone, I tell you!

Gone!

Steady, little pal.

We don't know that for certain.

Hit me again.

I like it.

SAM: You there, greenish

grocer.

May I, uh, ask what has become

of that marvellous product of

yours called, heh, Glazed

McGuffins?

Well, they've been pulled off

the shelves.

[Muffled screaming]

The chicken beak content

exceeded government standards.

You've removed them from the

shelf, but they're just out

back, right?

With all the overripe fruit

and greenish luncheon meets that

need new expiration date

stickers, right?

No, they're all gone!

The Department of Food-like

Edibles hauled them away

yesterday!

Oh, please.

I have an ex-wife and two kids.

[TV turning on]

♪ If you want the taste of

dough ♪

♪ Filled with lots of stuffin'

♪ You've got to grab a Glazed

McGuffin ♪

That was the message sent out

today as Kent Standit, head of

the Snack Food and Drug

Administration, stamped our

perennial kids' favourite Glazed

McGuffins as part of his

continual effort to deprive kids

of perennial kids' favourites.

I think I need to get in

touch with my anger, Max.

I believe I can help you

there, Sam.

How's our a*mo?

Woefully low.

Is this the place?

Yup, 22 Intolerant Way.

The home of Mr. Kent Standit.

Kent Standit?

Something tells me this guy

hates everything.

Well, I'm sure a heaping

helping of our persuasive charms

will soon have him seeing things

our way.

Or not seeing things at all.

No, Max.

Ours is a mission of

enlightenment.

Beliefs were never changed by

use of force.

Say, this has a nice heft to it.

What is it?

Hello, friend.

We're here to spread the word.

Have you considered welcoming

Glazed McGuffins into your

mouth?

Only this way will you

experience the true joy of

salivation.

Glazed McGuffins?

I'm afraid you're talking to the

wrong fellow, boys.

I'm Kent Standit, the man who

had those foul things taken off

the market.

Actually, they're only half

fowl.

Give or take a chicken lip or

two.

Judging by your cool manner

and healthy pink glow, you've

never sampled one of these

little beauties.

Go ahead, try it.

We're sure you'll be impressed.

Or so dizzied by the

additives that you'll sign this

legally binding document

restoring glazed Glazed

McGuffins to our nation's

grocery shelves.

I think not.

These lips have never touched

one of those vulgar things, and

thanks to my ban on them, they

never will.

Gee, he'll never acquire a

taste for new things with a

holier-than-thou attitude like

that.

Too true, Sam.

But for his sake, and the sake

of Glazed McGuffins-eaters the

world over, taste them he must!

[Phone ringing]

What is it?

SAM: Mmm, Glazed McGuffins,

Kent.

Can't you just smell that blend

of spring-fresh additives?

MAX: Go on, Kent.

Taste it.

Ratify that primal urge.

[Screaming]

Congratulations!

You're our grand prize winner!



if you can answer our

skill-testing question through a

mouthful of Glazed McGuffin!

Daddy!

Daddy!

Somebody help my daddy!

Something is obstructing his

blowhole!

You have to give him the breath

of life!

Out with the bad air, in with

the good!

That's some tasty

obstruction, right, friend?

You!

Just keep away from me!

[Screaming]

This is it, Max.

Only one McGuffin left.

Our last chance to turn the

tide of Kent's blind ignorance.

Or his stomach.

Whichever comes first.

And since we're getting no

results with these soft-sell

tactics, it's time we employ a

more in-your-face approach.

What is it?

MAX: Hi-h*, citizen.

We're from the Department of

Dental Health, and guess what?

[Gasping]

We're here to fight the w*r

against plaque.

Have no fear!

The floss squad is here!

And now to administer the

Glazed McFluoride Tablet.

MAX: Curses.

Thwarted by a clip-on tie.

It's like prom night all over

again.

And that was our last McGuffin.

We may be out of a*mo, but

we're not out of spirit, Max.

It's our exalted calling to

wheedle good old Kent into

enjoying the greasy goodness of

a Glazed McGuffin, by any means

necessary!

Punch this cow, man!

You know, this isn't really a

Freelance Police-related matter,

Max.

We need a valid reason to give

chase with wanton disregard for

the rules of the road.

Hmm.

How about this?

“Music to Drive Recklessly By.”

Well, as long as they've gone

to all this trouble.

♪

[Gasping]

Oh, no!

It can't be!

[Mad cackling]

Hopping howler monkeys in

snug-fitting shriner hats!

Is that wildly coincidental or

what?

He's heading straight for the

Glazed McGuffin factory!

Right here in Fond du Lac,

Wisconsin.

This plot is getting thicker

than the gooey, gravy-soaked

centre of a Glazed McGuffin.

Look at all this McGuffin-making

apparata sitting idle, Max.

It really stinks, Sam.

I know, and it's a darn

shame, too.

I was talking about the

pressing waft of rotting

chicken.

It really stinks, Sam.

Sam, I think we're being

watched.

Judging by the glaring lack

of fan mail, I beg to differ,

little pal.

Although my sweet old granny

tunes in every week, bless her

adorably sagging ankles.

Freelance police!

I've had my fill of your

accursed Glazed McGuffins!

Glad to hear it, Kent!

Hey, what's the verdict?

I mean I've had my fill of

you... trying to stuff them...

into me!

So now I'm going to stuff you...

into them!

[Mad cackling]

Huh?

Your passionate fight for

Glazed McGuffins is about to

come to a most fitting

conclusion!

You'll have to shut off this

chicken-sucker, Kent.

I can't hear a thing you're

saying.

[Screaming]

This is a tad humbling, to

say the least.

Not to worry, McGruff.

You'll fit through most any

opening after you've been...

[Cackling]

Mechanically deboned!

Hey.

What gives?

[Blades whirring]

Hey, Sam, do you think it's

time we bolted like spooked

gibbons?

Can't think of a reason not

to.

KENT: Try not to exert

yourselves, Freelance Police!

We'll need every ounce of fat

for the Glazed McGuffins you're

about to become.

Not the worst way to go, eh,

Sam?

So true, little buddy.

But if we're going to get

mortally McGuffined, it's a

shame we won't be around to eat

ourselves.

Now there's a thought you

could have kept to yourself.

Sorry.

I must be spiralling into the

hazy brain-bog known as McGuffin

withdrawal.

Maybe it's time to turn in my

shield.

[Screaming]

Look, Sam!

A newborn Glazed McGuffin.

The last of a long line.

You know, I think it looks like

you, Max.

[Screaming]

[Choking]

Aww, reminds me of my own

first McGuffin.

Choke it down, boy.

There you go.

Hey, these aren't bad.

I like them.

I really do.

I'm a fan of Glazed McGuffins,

Sam, I am.

♪ Forget your troubles, come on,

get happy... ♪

What just happened here?

I'll tell you what just

happened here.

The defining moment in our

struggle to preserve Glazed

McGuffins.

The ban has been lifted!

Yeah, I was all wrong about

these.

Savoury little dumplings,

aren't they?

I'll say.

Not like those Pizza Poultices.

They're next on my list.

No more... Pizza Poultices?

But we love Pizza Poultices.

Aw, come on, fellas.

I've gotta ban something.

No!

No more!

You stay away from me, you hear?

Just stay away!

[Screaming]

Try not to fight it, Kent!

We need your support!

Bless you, Kent!

You've given us back our purpose

in life.

Take him down, Sam!

♪