00x02 - What We Did on Our Summer Vacation

[bunniefuu]

How do you know

the summer is really
and truly over?

My dad says it's over

precisely one second
after midnight on September 21.

My friend Ellen says it's over
the moment you start thinking

about whether
to buy a three-ring binder

or a spiral notebook for school.

But for me, the way I know
the summer is a goner,

is when my brother Pete,
and Artie,

the strongest man in the world,
go to the beach

and try to b*at up the ocean.

Take that, stupid wave.

BIG PETE:
They're not crazy,
just angry...

angry that the summer has
to end.

I know exactly how they feel.

Every year it seems
like the summer is over

about ten seconds
after it started.

Especially this summer.

We'll go get you!

Die! Whoa!

? Hey smilin' strange ?

? You're lookin'
happily deranged ?

? Can you settle to sh**t me? ?

? Or have you
picked your target yet ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Don't you talk back ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

( guitar lick )

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Don't you talk back ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey, Sandy ?

? Don't you talk back ?

? Ay-yi-yi-yi ?

? Hey Sandy. ?

I'm Pete,

and this is my brother Pete,

and this is all that's left
of our summer vacation.

653 photos developed for free
at the Quick Pick Photo Booth,

where my friend Ellen worked
all summer.

( birds singing )

Where should I start?

I know, check this out.

It's Pete and his best friend
Mort Mortenson

greasing the turf
on blocks of ice.

Yay!

BIG PETE:
Mort shaves off
all his body hair

to cut down on wind resistance,

but Pete still beats him
every year.

Eat my turf, Chrome Dome.

( screaming )

It's one of the sure-fire signs
that summer has begun.

I can't feel my butt.

There are other signs, too.

Your shadow gets shorter.

( loud electrical humming )

Electricity gets louder.

( loud buzzing )

k*ller bees arrive
from the Yucatan Peninsula.

( groans )

Confounded bees!

Or it's the annual
border dispute...

I'm taking over your turf,
tubby.

You'll have to k*ll me first.

( laughing )

...between my dad
and Mrs. Blowtar gets underway.

Still, the summer
isn't officially summer

until Mr. Tastee comes to town.

( children shouting excitedly )

No one knows who he is
or where he comes from,

but when that first really
hot day in June rolls around,

you just know the Tastee Mobile
is coming to the rescue.

Tastee!
Tastee!

MAN:
Hey, kiddos.

Hey.

It's not

like he remembers your name,
but once,

when my brother Pete was broke

and dying
for a Blue Tornado Bar,

he offered Mr. Tastee a huge
and evil insect for trade.

Hmm, he doesn't
sing, does he?

He eats flesh.

I'll... take it.

That's just the kind of guy
he was.

The other thing
I should tell you

about Mr. Tastee, is that
no one knows his true identity.

( squeaking )

Who is he?

Some people think he escaped
from the state mental hospital

in Durango Falls,
while others are pretty sure...

He's that guy.

I forgot his name, but he used
to be married to Cher.

Ms. Vanderveer,

this blind millionaire
who lives on our block--

she just calls him Leonard.

You never understood me,
Leonard.

You never really understood me.

About the only thing
anybody agrees on is

that the summer just
wouldn't be summer without him.

Let me tell you the whole story.

It all started here
at the Quick Pick booth

where Ellen worked part-time
for her Uncle Lou.

Thank you
and have a Quick Pickerific day.

What a job.

It was hot,

you had to wear
this pukey polyester.

Plus, there was nowhere
to go to the bathroom.

You just had to hold it in.

Outside of licking dirt
for a living,

it was easily
the world's deadliest job.

Then, one day,
she stumbled across a clue...

a clue that could unravel
the summer's greatest mystery.

( gasps )

Right in this envelope
is our one chance

to find out Mr. Tastee's
true identity.

Open it
before somebody comes.

I can't.
Come on!

It's totally against the rules.

Rules bite!

Pete, don't!

It was like opening
the secret tomb of King Tut

as Pete peeled back the flap

and revealed the secret life
of Mr. Tastee.

Wow.

All in all, they were pretty
ordinary photos,

except for one thing--

he never took off
his swirly head.

He's got to take it off.

No.

Not here.

Hey, the Statue of Liberty.

Look at this one.

He sure looks lonely,
doesn't he?

Yeah, it's weird.

But how could he not
have any friends?

Problem foot odor?

Maybe

he doesn't have any friends.

ELLEN:
I don't know.

Maybe he does.

Who?

Us.

We really didn't know
what to do.

I call this one

the shimmy, shimmy shake.

Mm-hmm.

And we really didn't know
what to say.

So, uh,
how fast does this baby go?

But we tried our best
to somehow make friends

with the mysterious man
behind the plastic mask.

So, do you have a girlfriend?

( chuckling )

Sure, I got
49 of 'em.

Let's see.

There's the
Boomerang Bar,

the Hydrogen Pop,
Meringue Ka-Bang,

Blue Tornado Bar-- Mmm--
Chocolate Thunder Chunks,

Lemon Licky Nubs,
Orange Splurto Sticks...

Finally, on one
fateful Thursday...

Mr. Tastee?

Yes?

BIG PETE:
We were

kind-kind of wondering...

Uh-huh.

Um...

Would you like to go
trout fishing with us tomorrow?

I'm bringing the dynamite.

Thanks, kiddos,

but that's my day
to hot wax the Tastee Mobile.

Can we help?
Well, it's
kind of a

( chuckles ):
one-man job.

Maybe next time.

Mr. Tastee?

Mm-hmm.

Do you have any friends?

Well, sure.

All kids are my friends.

( laughs )

Yeah,

okay.

But don't you feel, like,
kind of lonely sometimes?

An ice cream man, lonely?
Come on.

Yeah, like, maybe
you feel like

nobody really knows you,
or even cares.

Hey,

everybody knows me.

I'm, um, Mr. Tastee.

( chuckles ):
Now, uh,

( clears throat ):
what can I do for you kiddos?

Let us be your friends.
I know!

How about a bodacious
Blue Tornado Bar

to tickle your tonsils?

Boffo!

No, that's not
enough anymore.

I-I'm sorry.

I-I wish it could be
different, but, uh,

it's for your
own good.

Take them.

They're starting to melt.

Please?
They're all

you really need.
ELLEN:
They're just

Popsicles.

Exactly.

And I'm just an ice-cream man,

and you're just my customers,

and that's the way it has to be.

How can you say that?

There's no
other way.

Just give us a chance.

I-I can't.

Now, here. It's...

It's the best
I can do.

Good-bye, kiddos.

When he didn't come back
the next day,

nobody got too worried.

He's probably just
hot-waxing his head.

But when the heat wave hit
Sunday, and still no Tastee,

the Great Blue Tornado Bar
panic was officially underway.

( whispering ):
Tastee.

Out on the street,
you'd see all kinds of kids

going through Blue Tornado Bar
withdrawal.

Tastee!

Tastee?

I'll have two Blue Tornado Bars

and a Meringue Ka-Bang
for my sister, Lucy.

While some of us
started hallucinating,

other people just
lost their mind.

I didn't mean it, Leonard.

Leonard, you were good to me.

The summer had turned to crud.

About all we ever did
was sit around

spreading Tastee rumors.

I heard his truck crashed.

I heard his head melted.

I heard he remarried Cher.

Other than that,
we'd just stare for hours

at the hypnotic, swaying motion

of Mrs. Blowtard's
colossal arm flub.

Look at that flub go.

It's a flesh avalanche.

And we probably would have
kept on staring,

but then our personal
superhero...

Artie, the strongest man...

( fanfare plays )

...in the world!

...came along
and accidentally saved the day.

Here's how it happened.

In his super-human struggle

to destroy the k*ller bees'
diabolical hive,

Artie decided to take on
the queen bee herself

in a winner-take-all
staring contest.

She was a wily bee all right,
but Artie was even wilier,

and finally,
he had the murderous queen

just where he wanted her...

( panting )

Say your bee prayers,
my puny, hybrid foe.

...as he zeroed in
for the k*ll.

Oh! Blink!

Blink, I say, you stinky bee!

( buzzing )

His powerful Artie vision
caught sight of something

off on the horizon.

( grunting )

It can't be!

( grunts )
( screams )

( grunts, panting )

Greetings, Photo Gal.

Artie!

I saw it!

A flash of white
near the curve of the Earth.

Then it was gone.

Saw what, Artie?

The Tastee Mobile!

( gasps )

( laughs )

Taking into consideration
the height of the water tower,

the rotation of the Earth,

and the prescription
of Artie's eyeglasses,

Ellen made some
trigonomic calculations

and pinpointed
Mr. Tastee's coordinates

to a stretch of interstate
in Northern Kentucky.

We have to find him.

The search
for Mr. Tastee had begun.

After Artie's miraculous
sighting of the Tastee Mobile,

we sprang into action.

The summer was half over,
and out there, somewhere,

the loneliest man in the world
was driving further and further

away from the only
friends he had--

us.

If we didn't find him,
nobody would.

Ellen turned her booth
into a command center,

took over every shift,
and devoted her life

to tracking him as he
b*rned across the continent.

She knew she was violating

about 1,700
Quick Pick regulations,

but the only way to find Tastee
was by looking for clues

at every single photograph
that came in.

When a clue would turn up,
she'd plant another push pin

in her map and try to predict
his next cunning move.

ELLEN:
Tacoma, of course.

Then she'd contact
the local police

and have them put up
all kinds of flyers

and stuff she made herself.

My job was to handle the phones
in case anyone called,

while Pete did his part
by keeping a lookout

at the Splankton
Municipal Pool.

Everything was going smoothly
until that fateful day

when lifeguard Den Cleary
tried to take Pete on.

Mister!

I want you off of
that board in ten seconds!

Suck chowder, muscle head!

Chow... five,

four,

three,

two, one!

You'll be sorry.

The thing you
have to understand

about Pete and Den Cleary

is that they've
been feuding for years.

Last year,

after Den Cleary caught
Pete eating in the pool,

he banned him from the water
for the whole summer.

This summer, Pete
was taking no prisoners.

His plan seemed
innocent enough at first.

The day Den Cleary

made Pete jump,

he jumped 43 more times.

The next day,

79 times.

Then 104 times.

Pete knew it might
take a while,

but all that jumping,
day after day,

well, it began
to get to Den Cleary.

He tried to out-maneuver
people by calling

countless adult swims.

Adults Only! Kids out!

Kids out! Adults only!

But when the
constantly plunging Pete

got to 269 jumps one day,
Den Cleary finally snapped.

( sobbing ):
Oh, talk to him, please.

He'll listen to you.

I can't take it anymore.

Please...

just make him stop!

I'll see what I can do.

Pete, come here.

( whispering ):
The situation calls
for Plan... Plan F.

Let's go!

With Den Cleary
out of the picture,

Pete was free to continue
his lookout vigil.

The new lifeguard
didn't seem to mind.

How's the weather up there,
my little Viking?

Sweet!

Meanwhile, back at
the command center,

Ellen was getting
increasingly frustrated.

The summer was fading fast,

and she was still one step
behind the illusive Mr. Tastee.

I'm so close.

Our only hope was to try

and talk to someone
who knew Tastee.

Somebody like Ms. Vanderveer.

It's worth a try.

Leonard said my eyes

were bluer than the bluest
Blue Tornado Bar.

He did.

He said that.

When that plan didn't work,

I took my search
to Clog Haven Beach.

It isn't the best beach
in the world,

but dad keeps coming back
every year,

hoping he'll find
buried treasure

with his trusty metal detector.

Why Clog Haven?

Because, as dad has told us
about a million times...

This is where I found your mom.

There I was,

22 years old,
fresh out of the army,

broke, out of my mind,
looking for treasure.

Then all of a sudden,
the detector starts beeping

like a banshee, you know,

( beeping faster )
I'm thinking Spanish
dubloons, right?

And then suddenly I'm shocked to
see your mother's beautiful face

blinking beneath me.

And I'm thinking,
"What the Sam Hill?"

( beeping faster )
When your mother says...

Go ahead, honey.
Say it.

It's me! I have a metal
plate in my head.

DAD:
Can you believe that?

A metal plate from some accident

she had when she was a kid.

We get to talking, and next
thing you know, uh, honey?

Next thing you know?

Wedding bells are ringing.

Ugh.

Will you turn
that thing off, now.

Sure, I'm sorry.

Did I ever tell you guys

that story before?

Huh? Oh.

Before he launched
into the story

of their wild honeymoon
at the Hoover Dam,

I veered toward the boardwalk,

hoping I'd find
an ice-cream man

with some answers
about Mister Tastee.

( bell ringing )

What can I get you, son?

How about a Sludgecicle?

You seem like a bona fide
Sludgecicle man.

You don't have any Blue
Tornado Bars do you?

Nope.

No, I don't.

You'll have to talk
to Mr. Tastee

if it's a Blue Tornado
you're after.

Do you know where
I can find him?

Nope.

I heard he got run out of town
by a bunch of nosy kids.

I heard they just wanted
to be his friends.

So that's what happened.

What do you mean?

Tastee knows the rules.

Why do you think he wears

that plastic head all the time?

To keep kids like you

from asking too
many personal questions.

Why? What are you guys
so afraid of?

Look, aren't we here on the
first hot day of every summer?

Aren't we?

Don't we carry 49 different

flavorific flavors,
including Pineapple Blurt?

What else do you

want from us?

I... I...

I don't know anymore.

Well, how about
that Sludgecicle?

Like I said, you look like

a bona fide Sludgecicle man.

I had come
hoping for a miracle.

Instead, all I got
was a cruddy Sludgecicle,

and a sinking feeling

that Mr. Tastee
was gone for good.

( metal detector beeping )

Hey! Hey, hey!
We got something!

Something... something here!
Something big!

Come here!
Come on!

Hey, hey, I think it's
like an Oldsmobile,

you know, like a Delta 88

or maybe, you know,
a Cutlass Supreme.

Oh.

Oh! Oh!

We all pitched in
and within the hour,

we were the proud owners
of a 1978 Cutlass Supreme.

All right, buckle up.
Let's go.

All right.

It ran perfectly
and had tons of leg room.

? I got a new car,
I didn't have to go far ?

Our dad was so happy
he sang all the way home.

? I got a Cutlass Supreme ?

? It's got a radio ?

? Windows, headlights ?

As much as I enjoyed
Dad's beautiful voice,

I knew Ellen was finishing
her second shift.

So I had Dad drop me off
at the mall.

So how'd it go at the beach?

Dad found a car,
a Cutlass Supreme.

Did you find anybody
who knows Tastee?

Yeah, this guy
Captain Scrummy.

What did he say?

He said I looked like
a bona fide Sludgecicle man.

Mr. Tastee's never
coming back, is he?

No. I don't think so.

Let's go, I'll walk you home.

There was nothing left to do.

He probably had found himself

a new town where nobody
knew how lonely he was.

Our search for Mr. Tastee
had come to a close.

Pete refused to give up
his post at first,

but one chilly night
in early September...

See ya, Tastee.

He left the board for good.

Occasionally I would walk
by the Tastee phone,

but all I expected to find
was maybe some loose change.

It was hopeless.

The signs that the summer
was ending were all around us.

Back to Yucatan
with you, stinky!

We will battle next year.

Poof.

Finally, late one afternoon,

there was nothing left to do
but close the command center

once and for all.

( knocking )

Sorry, we're closed.

( knocking )

We're closed for the day.

Could you please...

Mr. Tastee!

Hey, kiddos.

BIG PETE:
Mr. Tastee!

You're back!

Where were you?

Where?

I think you know where I was.

Ellen, right?

I saw this on a telephone pole
outside Biloxi.

And this one near Duluth.

It seems everywhere I went,
there I was.

Why did you come back?

Oh, I had to.

I wanted to pick up my
photographs.

Oh, yeah, they're right here.

I guess you know
we looked at them.

I kind of figured you did.

How'd they turn out?

Ooh, hey, you ever been
to the Statue of Liberty?

You should go!

I pretended a Blue Tornado Bar
was the torch.

I wish it was.

Me, too.

We missed you, Mr. Tastee.

Please. Don't say that.

But why is it so terrible?

Because, every year,
on this day, the summer ends

and I always have
to say good-bye.

It's hard enough without
having you kiddos missing me.

Then don't go.

I have to, Pete.

I'm an ice-cream man.

I am what the summer is.

Fireflies, thunderstorms,
butt sweat on the car seat...

and when it all goes,
I have to go with it.

Couldn't you just stay
a little bit longer?

Well, I'll tell you what.

There's a little daylight left.

What do you say you kiddos help
me wax the Tastee Mobile?

Didn't you say
that was a one-man job?

Not anymore.

I guess we thought that if we
just kept waxing and waxing

maybe Mr. Tastee
would never leave.

But when the sun finally set,
it was time for him to go.

Okay, kiddos, come on.

I've got a long
drive ahead of me.

Now, don't worry.

I'll be back,
first hot day, like always.

Until then, I was wondering...

Yeah?

Could I get a sh*t
of all of us together?

It'd mean a lot to me.

Sure.

Great.

No one knows who he is
or where he comes from,

and probably no one ever will.

I guess some things are
supposed to stay a mystery.

All we know is that he's more
than just an ice-cream man.

We're more
than just his customers.

When it comes
to people missing you,

it's really not
that terrible at all.