02x02 - Married Alive

[bunniefuu]

[ whistles ]

[ quacks ]

[ cawing ]

CHARLES: Dad,
we're hungry!

MAMBO: And there's
nothing to eat
around here!

Bah, pipe down! Your Aunt
Bernice is gone for one week,

and you kids have done nothing
but complain.

"Dad, I smell a gas leak."

"Dad, I need
a Heimlich maneuver."

"Dad, I see a strange,
Kn*fe-wielding man

in a hockey mask
outside my bedroom window."

[ yelps ]

Nothing to eat?

As if the basic food groups

aren't included somewhere
in this pile.

Now, let's see. You got
your salts, your fats,

your lavenders,
your cottage cheese

or possibly a very old
lunch meat,

your small flightless bird...

The flavored underwear is mine!

CHARLES:
Could you at least cut
us down from here?

You know, Dad,
Aunt Bernice does return today.

You might want
to tidy up a bit.

Ahh!
Ha!

Like I'm scared of that
iron-pumping, steroid-popping

sideshow-attraction cow!

I'll clean this house up
when I'm damn good and ready!

Ahh!

[spits]
Starting by giving

this lightbulb
a good spit-shine.

[ singing off-key ]:
* O mio babbino caro *

* Mi piace è bello! *

[ lightbulb pops ]

[ grunts ]

Any chance that was
a death rattle?

Oh, life is just
a ceramic container

with non-lead glaze filled with
organically grown bing cherries!

[ flies buzzing ]

[ chuckling ]:
Sushi night.

Duckman, don't worry

your furry little tubular
head about the mess.

It's nothing an army of
civil engineers, some dynamite

and a little Lemon Pledge
can't handle.

[ passing gas ]

BOTH:
There's Grandma-ma!

BERNICE:
Duckman, am I
to understand

that once again
you misplaced Grandma-ma

for the entire weekend?

Certainly not.

I knew she was near
the coffee grounds.

Look. What
happened was...

You were busy with
all your other projects.

I understand perfectly,
you incurable worker bee, you.

Bernice, I don't know why
this isn't a good thing,
but you aren't yourself.

Now, a lesser person
might take this opportunity

to trick you into cashing
in your Keogh Plan

and handing all the
money over to him

so he could spend it in
one glorious shopping spree

at Guillermo's Foot
Fetish Emporium.
[ chuckling ]

Huh.

But it's my role as head of
the household to feign concern.

Did something happen
over the weekend?

Yes! A thousand times yes!

I fell in love!

You remember I won

the Schvitzing to the Oldies
contest.

First prize, a trip
to the luxurious

Casa del Gordo Health Spa,

where the obscenely wealthy

can lose
those pesky love handles

in a setting of starving
Third-World types.

I was asked to be a guest
aerobics instructor

because of my firm belief

in positive
reinforcement techniques.

[ upbeat dance music plays ]

Uhh.

Aah!

Then I saw him
from across the room

and was instantly transformed

into a flirtatious
little schoolgirl.

Hey! You
in the mortician outfit!

You just going to stand there
till your butt's big enough

for a trailer hitch?!

[ slurps ]

You're a little bunny.

A little bunny?

A little bunny-wunny.

Ittle-wittle,
bunny-wunny?

An itsy-bitsy,
ittle-wittle

bunny-wunny.

[ squeak ]

Class dismissed!

[ siren wailing ]

Although we only knew
each other a short time,

we found so much to talk about.

You're a pooky-wooky.

An ittle-wittle, pooky-wooky?

A yummy-scrummy,
ittle-wittle
pooky-wooky.

On our last day, he told me

he was a self-made billionaire.

Then he asked the question

a woman waits
all her life to hear.

How would you like to host
your very own infomercial?

[ yawning ]

Duckman, I feel
like a new woman.

Me, too. Unfortunately,
I'm about ten bucks short.

[ cackling ]

You are so cute when
you're smarmy and repugnant.

I left some phlegm
in your crisper.

Otherwise, an uneventful
couple of days.

You need eggs.

Uh, look, Bernice, I hate
to prick your balloon.

Duckman, I believe the phrase
is "burst your bubble."

I know. I just like to say
"prick" whenever I can.

Prick... prick,
prick, prick.

Prick, prick,
prick, prick, prick.

[ to tune of "Camptown Races" ]:
* Prick, prick, prick,
prick, prick *

* Prick, prick, prick, prick *

* Prick, prick, prick,
prick, prick *

* Prick, prick,
prick, prick... *

* Prick, prick, prick,
prick, prick, prick! *

* Prick, prick, prick,
prick, prick, prick, prick *

* Prick, prick, prick,
prick, prick, prick! *

However, I digress.

I got news for you, Bernice.

Your Prince Charmless
is a fraud.

If I had a nickel for every time
I tried lathering up a lady

by telling her
I was a billionaire, [chuckles]

I'd be a billionaire.

Whoa!

Duckman, you cynical
mistrustful,

assume-the-worst-
about-everyone wretch.

Don't you think I went through
his wallet to get a look
at some ID?

The man is
Baron von Dillweed.

Never heard of him.

You've never heard of
Baron von Dillweed?

The giga-billionaire
entrepreneur?

He developed a new
home shopping network--

BVD-- where America shops
in its underwear.

My boodie-oodie-
woodie wants me

to help sell his new piece
of marketing genius--

the world's most portable
exercise system.

He calls it
the rubbercizer.

He can call it Aunt Jemima
for all I care.

It doesn't make it
a fat black woman

with a bandanna
on her head.

It's a rubber band, Bernice!
What's next?

You going to tell me it comes
with an instruction manual?

[ chuckling ]

Wahhoa!

Yes.

[ glass clinking ]

Dad, are you okay?

Fine.

All the pointy little shards
of glass broke my fall.

Ajax! Oh,
what have I told you

about sleeping
with Mr. Orange Rind?

Were you okay
while I was gone?

Splendid, Aunt Bernice.

I subsisted quite nicely
on the bean soup you left

in that large tureen in the room
with the sink and the shower.

That's the bathroom, dear.

Oh.

I couldn't help
but overhear

that you met
Baron von Dillweed,

the visionary who
gave us Liver-Upper--

the easy-to-use
home insertion device

for that bothersome
hepatitis "B".

The man's a deep well
of ideas.

Just last week,

I started wearing

this skin-tight, inflatable
neck brace

I ordered from his network.

Ajax, those have
all been recalled.

They squeeze
the carotid artery

and restrict blood flow
to the occipital lobe.

Have you been noticing
any unusual side effects?

But not so
much anymore.

Well, I bid you adieu now.

If anyone needs me, I'll be...

surprised.

Careful with that.
You could put someone's eye out.

Wow! What page of the
instruction manual
is that on?

I didn't want
to break this

to the boys
right away, Duckman,

but since I care much
less for your feelings,

this isn't just
an infomercial

for the rubbercizer
I'm hosting,

it's the world's
first info-wedding,

and guess who's the bride?

This Saturday,

Baron von Dillweed and I
are getting married!

Bernice, why would anyone want
to marry a virtual stranger

and leave the family
she's come...

Be right back.

Hate to see you go,
Bernice.

I'm puddling up
just thinking about it,

but, hey, toss
a wedding invite this way.

I promise not to rolf up
tequila sh*ts

in the punch bowl like
I did at my wedding.

[ howling laugh ]

You're so cute

when you're hateful,
two-faced and self-involved.

And I haven't even told you
the best part yet.

Grandma-ma and I are moving
with Dilly

to his home in Switzerland,

and we're taking the boys
with us!

Where was I?

Oh, right, yeah. Losing my kids.

Bernice, I can't believe
you're trying to give my boys

to some loser
with a bloated bankroll

who owns some network
nobody cares about.

TV ANNOUNCER:
Stop the inanity!

Call now, and we'll sell
you something for $10.

[ gasps ]

I got ten bucks!
Get me a phone!

The resurgence
of theater

is just a pipe
dream, isn't it?

[ grunts ]
Excuse me.

This is
a private matter

between a man
and his bidet.

Fine. So a few other people
have heard of him.

That doesn't
make him good enough

to be a father
to my children.

I hope you don't mind a bit of
constructive criticism, Duckman,

but those kids
will be better off

with a pack of rabid baboons
than with you.

We proved that
wasn't true, Bernice,

even if Ajax does
still get a Valentine

from the dominant
female every year.

Okay, then. What grade
are the twins in?

Uh... by twins you mean
the ones who look alike?

What color is Ajax's hair?

What? You're putting
a time limit on it, too?

How about their dog? When was
Gecko's last rabies sh*t?

Ha! It was right after
the last time

Charles and Mckimbo bit her.

Their names are Charles
and Mambo, Duckman,

and Gecko is a him.

Not since he peed
in my slippers this morning.

Maybe you and Dilly should
meet and talk about this,

not that it'll matter.

My ootsie-wootsie-tootsie
wants those boys,

and he does tend to
get what he wants.

DILLWEED:
Tell him if he tries to leave,

my foot soldiers will march
up and down the boulevard

until he's weeded out
and destroyed!

Father knows what it cost me
to get him in that nursing home!

[ slamming phone ]

Minty treat?

Someone from an extremely
distant tax bracket

to see you, sir.
[ grunts ]

Call when
you finish.

I'll frisk you and
show you to the door.

So, you must be...

Duckman.

Duckman.

Yes, I suppose you'd know.

Ah, my 2:20.

Ten minutes to talk about

where your children will spend
the rest of their lives.

Bernice speaks
very highly of you.

Really?
No. That was
an empty pleasantry.

Why don't we use eight
of your minutes to look
around my office.

This, of course, is my legacy.

I employ the best
and the brightest

to work day and night

in my quest to tie in
to the national consciousness.

Scientists, researchers,
computer geniuses.

You do understand
what this means?

Some of the great minds
of our time

are spending their lives making
it easier for people to shop?

Well... yes, and more.

You're looking at the future.

Soon we'll be able
to do everything

from the comfort of our sofas,

avoiding the unnecessary bother

of dealing with other people.

Ah, save it for your shrink,
Mr. Rubber Band Man.

I'm here to talk about
the future of my kids.

No way you're going
to Switzerland with
those boys.

I absolutely refuse
to let you turn them

into a bunch of cheese-eating,
cocoa-guzzling yodelers.

They'll have nice watches.

Hmm, well,
that is nice.

And you say everyone in
the family would get one?

I have no interest
in taking your children per se.

My only desire
is to give Bernice

whatever she wants.

Starting with those
cajones, huh?

[ glass shatters ]

[ man yelling,
rumbling crash ]

Fore.
[ chuckling ]

You have to applaud the man

that came up with this
whole insurance concept.

Believe me, those children
will have everything

a child of their generation
could ever need--

the finest therapists,
parole officers

and rehab centers
money can buy.

Money! Money! Money!

Is that what
it's all about?

The real question is:

What are you planning to do
with all your money?

Make more money.

And with that money?

Make more money.

And with that money?!

Make more money.

God, I thought
I could trip him up

on a less-than-noble
life's ambition.

You don't even
know my boys.

How do you know they'd
even be interested

in living a life
like yours in a
house like this?

Actually, this is my car.

[ car engine starts ]

Well, guzzles gas,

but I only have to change
the decor every 12,000 miles.

Got its own air bag, too.

Pardon me?

What? Oh, I, uh... I said,

"What's that there, Ra... Ragú?"

Phew! Good save.

Look, Dillweed, you think
basking in unbridled luxury

with all life's advantages

is really what's best
for the children?

Ha, ha! Hee-hmm.

Oh... well,
never mind.

The point is, we should
leave it up to the boys

to decide who they
want to live with--

a complete stranger

or the father
who brought them life?

Hey, kids!

Picked you up
a little something
on the way home.

[ gagging ]

Say, kids, picked you
up a little something
on the way home.

All right!

Oh, yeah!

Next week I'll get you
a championship franchise.

* Skip to my Lou,
skip to my Lou *

* Skip to my Lou,
my darling. *

[ a*t*matic w*apon f*ring ]

Eat my jet spray, peasants.

What's this do?
[ beep ]

Boys, remember
our little chat

about knocking limbs
off national monuments?

Bernice, they're
only kids once.

Oh...

What the hell are
you staring at?!

We heard about Bernice's
wedding, Mr. Duckman.

And we'd love
to help out
any way we can.

Good. You can
be the rice.

Mr. Duck...!

[ whirring ]

Hee-hee, hee-hee-hee!
Newt.

I'm desperate, Corny.

Corny, Bernice is marrying
that billionaire in two days,

and they're determined
to take the kids

to live with them
in Switzerland.

What would you do?

Apply all my powers
of concentration

and put forth a heroic
and single-minded effort

to find statutory and/or
emotional grounds

to get them to stay.

If you were me?

Oh.

Buy them snow shoes
and kiss them good-bye.

There you are, Duckman!

You caught me
at a bad time, Bernice.

I'm here.

[ cackling ]
You are so cute

when you're being
a social lubricant.

I just came by
to tell you

that this competition
between you and Dilly

is totally
unnecessary.
It is?!

I knew you'd
come to your senses.

I knew you wouldn't
break the bond

between a father
and his children.

I didn't have to.

Dilly's lawyers
are going to do it for me.

They found a minor piece
of boiler plate

in Beatrice's will.

Oh, fellas!

[ glass shattering ]

These gentlemen are from

the firm of Dahmer,
Manson, Gacey and Bbundy.

Set the electron probate
microscope to "loophole."

Well, now that that's
all cleared up,

we'll see you at
the wedding Saturday?

Go to your wedding?

I'd rather get a high colonic
with a hot poker.

Okay, but if you
have time after,
be sure to pop by.

Oh, Cornfed, since you're
like one of the family,

Dilly and I were wondering

if you'd do a few hours
of karaoke at our reception.

What are you
trying to do, Bernice?

First you come between
me and my children.

Now me and my partner?

Cornfed and I are inseparable.

We're a team
like Astaire and Rogers...

Lewis and Clark...
Norman Bates.

Anyway, we have
a bond that can
never be broken.

Isn't that right, partner?

Huh?

I was thinking
my tribute to Liza.

If you're not committed
to karaoke,

I do a Jello Biafra
meets Lerner and Loewe
kind of thing.

NARRATOR:
And so, needing to uncover

something unsavory
about Dillweed

in order to hold on
to his children,

Duckman rededicated himself
to becoming a good detective

by going back
to his detective school roots.

His investigation
left no stone unturned...

[ man screams,
body thuds ]

...along the way
uncovering something

called the Ark
of the Covenant...
Ahh!

...someone called
the Lindbergh baby...

...and the secret ingredients
to Spam.

Ooh!

But as for Dillweed,

nothing incriminating
could be found.

The only mistake
Duckman could turn up

was an attempted
hostile takeover of Popeye's.

Dillweed thought he was getting
a chicken franchise

when, in fact
it was a glass eye factory,

and he ended up
with millions of glass eyeballs

he couldn't give away.

[ yelling ]

[ dramatic music plays on TV ]

Welcome back to the world's
first infomercial wedding.

Now, Lori, do
I understand

from our unrehearsed
girlfriend chat

that you use the
rubbercizer, too?

I've tried everything
from purging to tapeworms,

and the rubbercizer
not only worked better;

it added gorgeous highlights
to my hair.

Dionne?

Well, Bernice,
it cured my piles.

I'd love to stay
and continue

this spontaneous discussion
with my close, personal friends,

but it's almost time
for wedded bliss.

ANNOUNCER
Stop the inanity and call now

for the amazing new rubbercizer.

MAN:
Must have to wrap
it pretty tight

to make it an
effective birth control.

Plus, you could put
someone's eye out.

That's it.

It's over.

I'll never see my kids again.

Wait a minute!

Never see again?

Put someone's eye out?

That's it.
That's why he's doing it!

But how?
What are my clues?

There must be something

from detective school
that can help me.

Maybe something
my professor said.

Duckman, are you doing
one of those word scrambles

instead of studying again?

[ groans ]

Word scramble?

I got it!

* Now that Mackie's... *

* Back in town *

* Look out,
Old Mackie is back. *

Thank you very much.
[ applause ]

Dearly beloved,
we gather today

in the sight
of our target audience--

skewed 28 to 45
with double fixed income--

to join these two
in holy matrimony.

Do you, Bernice,
take this charismatic

and recently featured
on the cover

of People magazine
billionaire

to be your lawfully
wedded husband?

We'll find out
if she does

in a moment, but first,

wedding gifts
are still available

on your Touch-Tone phones.

Operators are standing by

and remember, with BVD,
a personal relationship

with the bride and groom
is no longer a necessity.

And now, the sacred moment.

Forget the inanity!

Stop the wedding!

Duckman!
Duckman!

You've been hornswoggled,

bamboozled, jollyknockered.

Cheated, okay?
AUDIENCE:
Oh. Okay.

Dillweed's
cheating you

by getting you to buy
a dangerous $10 rubber band,

and why, you ask.

What possible motive
could he have?

The same motive
everyone has in the end--

a dire need to create
a desperate, one-eyed society

in order to peddle a warehouse
full of surplus eyeballs.

That again?

This is preposterous!

I'll pay someone
to badly hurt this man.

[ g*ns cocking ]
Wait! He's
been doing it all

with the products
on this network

through the evil
of subliminal advertising.

It's his slogan!

When you rearrange the letters,

look what it spells.

[ audience gasping ]

And that's not all.

Stop the inanity
also spells

"It ain't honest."

Uh, what do you do

with the "Y"
and the "P"?
[ gulps ]

And there's more.

If you rearrange the letters
in Baron von Dillweed,

you'll find it spells

"Roov Nand Illweeb."

Okay, they're starting
to lose their punch,

but the fact remains

that he doesn't care about you.

He only cares about creating

a completely impersonal
and technology-driven world

where people don't need people,

and people who don't need people
are the...

Aah!!!

One thing I haven't
figured out, Dillweed.

If you care
so little

about people
DILLWEED: Ow!

and relationships,
why work so hard

to get a wife and kids?

Money, you ignorant strip
of dental floss!

My accountant told me
the image of husband and father

would make me more palatable
to my shareholders.

What? You told me
you were marrying me

because I reminded
you of your mother!

That, and the way
I split coconuts with my thighs.

Ah! My eye.

You put my eye out with that!

Think of it as
one less glass eye
you have to unload.

MAMBO:
All right, Dad!

We were hoping

you'd find a way
to rescue us.

Yeah. You were always
our favorite.

We never planned on going
with him anyway.

[ chuckling nervously ]

You know how it is.
Some days you wake
up feeling neutral,

and you want to
make a statement.

Congratulations, Duckman.

You dug
deep down inside

and in order
to keep your children,

became the detective

you've always dreamed
of becoming.

In fact, it reminds me

of something
I like to call "My way".

Hit it, Nelson.

[ music begins ]

[ music stops ]

Thank you, Duckman.

And thank you for saving me
from a terrible fate.

Can you imagine
what would have happened

if I found out about this
after we were married?

I would have been trapped
in a loveless marriage,

legally bonded
to a devious criminal...

who I could have divorced

and soaked for half

his multi-billion
dollar fortune!

Aah!!!

When does Aunt Bernice
throw the bouquet?

Duckman!

Duckman!!

I asked the front desk
for something quiet in back.

Oh, well, as long as I know

the people
who can make a difference

haven't forgotten me,
I'll sleep well.

[ contented grunting
and sighing ]

[ wind whistling ]