03x09 - Fowl Ploy/Sword Loser

[bunniefuu]

[theme music playing]

[ducks quacking]

[panting]

Hold up, fellows.

I'm pacing myself.
Too fast for this duck.

[grunting]

You know, this flying south
business is for the birds.

What would be nice
is spending winter

in a cozy
domicile like that.

Hmm,
I need a plan to get in there.

[door opens]

Aha!

I got it.

[thuds]

[knock on door]

Oh, a mysterious package.

I better bwing it directly
inside my house
to investigate it.

Now let's see.

"Dear Elmer,
you don't know me,

but I'm your long lost,

vewy, vewy, vewy, vewy,

vewy, vewy, vewy
rich uncle, Wufus.

I am going on a luxurious trip
for the winter,

and I need you to take care
of my beloved pet duck.

If you do this, I will give you
one million dollars."

Oh, there's more.

"P.S. Make sure nothing happens
to my little duck.

Otherwise you get no money."

Oh, boy! Oh boy!
I'm going to be a rich! Rich!

Although I never knew I had
an Uncle Wufus.

Ah, but who cares?
I'm going to be wich!

Oh, let's see that
waddling windfall.

Oh, you're so cute.

I'm gonna take
such good care of you,

you little golden ticket, you.

Would you like something
to eat?

Would I? Sounds great, bub!
Woo hoo hoo!

This, this, and some of these.
and this, some of those.

And Houston, we have a T-Bone!

Now, now.
That's not for you, duck.

[screams] My arm!
I think you broke my arm.

[exclaiming in pain]
It's gone numb!

I can't feel my arm.

I feel nothing.

[Daffy] Seriously.
Do you feel this? Or this?

How 'bout this? 'Cause I can't.

Oh, my goodness.

[crying]

Wait until I tell
rich Uncle Rufus
about how you hurt me.

Then you'll never get
your filthy blood money.

Huh? No money?

I'm so sorry, Mr. Duck.

It was an accident.
Please don't tell Uncle Wufus.

You're lucky I'll eat
anything off the floor.

One more slip-up like that
and it's bye-bye
one million bucks.

Oh, of course, Mr. Duck.

I pwomise I'll be good.

Not the most comfortable couch.

Oh, if you'd like,
I can get a foam pillow
from the other room.

That's nice, but it's okay.
I can handle this.

My couch!

What are you doing?

Listen, Mac, I'm accustomed
to a certain lifestyle,

so you're gonna need to
provide me with some
furnishments

that are nice
and uh, soft

and squishy, spongy...

silky...

supple.

So, uh, how badly do you want
this million dollars anyway?

-Oh, vewy, vewy, vewy badly.
-Right!

[Elmer grunts]

Now this is comfort.

-[TV beeps]
-[announcer on TV] It's
The Jump Up and Down Show!

Oh man! I love that program!

[announcer on TV]
Up! Down! Up! Down!

[announcer and Daffy]
Up! Down! Up! Down!

-Up. Down--
-Enough!

Oh, no.
My retirement plan!

I'll save you.

Well, that was
an exhausting ordeal.

Now I have to take a nap.

Don't make too much noise.

You wake me up and I'm making
a big, fat phone call
to Uncle Rudolph.

Uncle Wudolph?
Isn't it Uncle Wufus?

Uncle Rudolph, Uncle Rufus.

People change their names
so much nowadays.

All right,
I'm hitting the hay, Elmo.

Something fishy
is going on here.

[phone ringing]

Hello, Mom.

Do we have a long lost
wich uncle, Wufus?

[Daffy]
Well, yes, of course we do.

-Weawwy?
-Weawwy.

And he has this amazing
pet duck, too.

A fine animal.

So quick. So smart.

Handsome.
Yes, sir.

He is one magnificent mallard.

Anyway, Uncle Wufus is real

so you better stop
scwewing awound

if you want that
one million bucks.

And stay out,
you dirty twister.

[door slams]

[phone ringing]

-Hello.
-Hello.

This is your vewy,
vewy, vewy, wich Uncle Wufus.

Oh, "Uncle Wufus,"
you big phony!

I'm onto your twicks, duck.

Excuse me?

Oh, don't pway stupid
with me, stupid!

You can take your money
and shove it.

I know you're not weal.

In fact, you are a crazy duck!

You've always been
a crazy duck, you'll always
be a crazy duck.

And nothing more.

I hope you drown on a pond,
you horrible--

[breaks glass]

Uncle Wufus?

-You are weal?
-He is real?

You're darn right I'm real
and so is my prized pet,

who you'd better be taking
very good care of, by the way!

And you really sent me a duck?

Duck? I don't have a pet duck.

I sent you my pet gorilla!

Hungry!

Flying south doesn't feel
so bad after all.

You said it!

[theme music playing]

[theme music playing]

[narrator]
In the English countryside,
there lies a rock

with a sword
firmly embedded in its face.

Whomsoever should
pull this sword
out of the rock,

will be king of all of England.

Many a strong knight

have made an attempt but
nary have been successful.

It's gonna be me,
you loud mouth idjit!

[narrator] Who said that?

Down here!

I can do it. Me!
Sir Samuel of Yosemite.

I'm the roughest, toughest
take no guff'est
knight in all the land.

Ah! Out of my way!

King coming through. [grunts]

[grunts]

Aah!

[groans]

I know what can blast
the sword out of that rock.

A poifect breakfast.

Only thing left is to butter
this toast.

Now, where's that's screwy
butter knife?

Well, what do you know?

I'll just borrow this.

How convenient.

[singing]

♪ Eggs and toasty ♪

♪ Breakfast is the meal
That I love the mosty ♪

What? Where'd it go?

Thanks, Doc!
It's all yours.

[continues singing]

[exclaims]

I need that sword,
you donkey eared carrot pig!

Hey, my breakfast!

Listen here, rabbit.

I'm gonna break by fist

on your face if you don't
get me that sword!

Now go pull that sword outta
the rock so as I can be king.

It's easy. See?

Give me! Give me! Give me!
[grunts]

Ah, say Charlie,
these yours?

He sure is persistent.
I gotta hand it to him.

[laughs]

That darn rabbit
could get the sword easily.

But maybe I can trick him
into pulling it out for me.

Oh, Mr. Strong
Confident Rabbit,

I was just wondering

if somebody as generous
and empathetic as you are,

might help a poor swordsman
like me

pull a tiny, insignificant
little sword out of a rock.

So what do you say, rabbit?

-Okay.
-Okay?

-Well, all right.
-But...

-You gotta
kiss my foot first.
-Foot?

If you think I'm kissing
a smelly,

fungus infested foot
of a filthy varmint,

-you're out of your mind!
-Shame.

You'd make a good king
with that sword.

Oh, okay rabbit.

I'll do it!

[electricity buzzing]

[laughs]
Ain't I a medieval miscreant?

Oh, that tears it!

I'm gonna murdalize you
if you don't get me that sword!

You could do it yourself,
Doc.

-You just ain't
warmed up is all.
-I'm not?

You got to start small.
Practice pulling
on that carrot.

Great. Now pull on that bush.

Great. Now pull out that rock.

[chuckles nervously]

I'll just put that right back--

Well, looks like
you're all warmed up.

So I'm going to leave.

[laughs]
What a dark age doofus!

-What a--
-[growls]

[metal clanking]

[roaring]

Oh, yoo-hoo!

Looking for this?

Don't you want to be king?

Come out and flight
like a man, rabbit!

I bid you good night,
Sir Knight.

Ain't I a--

No need to get your chain mail
in a twist.

I'll give you the sword.

It's mine!

Now, Sir Samuel of Yosemite
is the king.

Oy, look, everyone!
There's our king.

Why, yes,
that is me, your king.

Yeah, he's the tyrant
that's been oppressing us

and impeding our freedom.

Get him!

[crowd clamoring]

I thought being king
was supposed to be easy.

What a load of monarchy!

[theme music playing]