01x11 - Apocalypse Pete

[bunniefuu]

[ vacuum sucking ]

BIG PETE:
This is my brother Pete,

and this is my dad--

a guy who spends most
of his free time wondering...

Where, oh, where did I go wrong?

Over the years,
he's tried his best

to turn Pete into a model son.

See, you just go with the grain
in a circular motion,

a-and soon, uh...

The plan has not been
all that successful.

Pete's just Pete.
He can't help it.

[ burps loudly ]
Whether he's
collecting burps...

catching bugs,

or staring
into the electromagnetic vortex

of a lunar eclipse...

Yes.

There's always been a certain
Pete approach to life...

Dance, señorita, dance.

...that Dad has
never appreciated.

Even when Pete tries
to please Dad,

like the time he put
a high-gloss finish on the lawn

for Father's Day...
he just can't win.

Inside!

Pete knew that he'd never be
like other fathers and sons,

building tree forts together
and fishing for smelt.

He didn't
really want that anyway.

All he wanted
was for Dad to accept him

for the Pete he was.

I didn't think he had a chance.

I mean, you know
how dads can be.

Then, on one
sunny Saturday morning

not too far from here,

something happened
that changed everything.

If you wanted to,

you could call it a miracle.

[ rock intro playing ]

♪ 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 ♪

♪ 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, hey. ♪

In the whole sloppy history
of humankind,

you'll find
that the biggest moments

are caused
by the stupidest little things.

A prime minister
accidentally farts,

and whammo, it's the Korean w*r.

In the case of Pete
and Dad's miracle friendship,

it all started
with a blacktop grudge match

between my dad's
'88 Dodge Aries

and Mr. Hickle's fuel-injected
Throttle-Jet 5000.

Vroom, vroom!

Suck my fumes, nimrod.

They used to be friends,

but ever since the bicentennial,

when Mr. Hickle inadvertently
melted our birdbath,

the two of them started a feud
that's been building ever since.

The only problem is, Mr. Hickle
also happens to be the father

of my all-time best friend,
Ellen Hickle.

Over the years, we've tried
to ignore their feud,

but when we heard
it was all coming down

to this one final race,
well, we had to take sides.

I pitched in by drawing
a map of the course,

while Ellen did her part

by making this perfect
Mr. Hickle action figure

to ride in the car
during the race.

How do I look, honey?

It was a true labor of love,

and soon, they grew closer

than any father, daughter
and action figure should be.

Nice.

As for Pete, he sculpted

a stainless steel
voodoo hood ornament,

but as usual,

his best wasn't
good enough for Dad.

Whose side are you on,
anyway?

[ metal squeaking ]
[ grunting ]

I mean, not only will
this thing weigh me down,

i-it's completely
unaerodynamic.

I mean, it could
cost me the race.

Despite the rejection,

Pete wasn't about
to give up yet--

not while he still had
his own personal super hero,

Artie, the strongest man
in the world.

Pete never did trust
Phil Hickle,

much less the Phil Hickle
action figure,

and he knew if he could
dig up some dirt,

he could prove himself to Dad
once and for all.

Sure enough, Mr. Hickle
was up to no good.

Secretly souping up his car

with an ill*gal
overdrive button.

[ grunts and groans ]

He's bypassing the
alkaline transducer grid

with a turbostatic
overdrive.

What?

He's cheating!

Cheater! Cheater!

Big, fat cheater man!

Foul! I claim foul.

I do agree
with my claim.

It was the break
Pete had been waiting for.

Cheaters
never prosper.

[ chuckles ]

Mr. Hickle had left him
with no other choice.

With the big race
just hours away,

there was only one course
of action left...

sabotage.

The scene was set
for a day of reckoning

my dad had been waiting for
for 16 years.

Come on, Don,
where's your manners?

[ cheering ]

[ whistle blowing ]
Finally, the big race was on.

[ crowd cheering ]

Dad cranked his turbo-charged
V-8 engine to maximum thrust

and quickly roared
to a commanding lead.

[ laughs ]:
Don't mess with the best,
pellet-head.

Come on, baby.

But as they turned the corner

at West Platelet Avenue,

Mr. Hickle hit the button
on his secret weapon...

...and the throttle jet
surged ahead.

Oh, poke me with a stick!

Then, just when
Dad seemed dusted,

the results of Pete's sabotage
became beautifully clear.

[ tires screeching ]

[ cheering ]
Dad had won!

All right, Dad!

Yes! Yes! Whoo!

All right!
Oh, yeah!

Oh, hey!

Hey, well, wh-wh-
where's Pete?

Oh...
Beats me.

Oh, it figures
he'd miss my big moment.

Congratulations.

That'll teach you
to mess with my dad.

At our victory dinner
that night,

Dad learned the truth
about what Pete had done.

I'd never seen him prouder.

[ laughing ]:
Whoo!
Not only had he won the race,

but his misfit son
had saved the day.

And then, you know what else
my little commando did for me?

What, dear?

He gave me this.

[ chuckling ]

Well, I think you
both should go

over to the
Hickles' tomorrow

and return that
action man to Phil.

Ellen made it for him.

That's right.

There's no reason for
this to get out of hand.

Let's all be adults
about it, and...

MR. HICKLE:
Attention! Attention!

We interrupt your dinner

to bring you
a special announcement.

It's Phil!

Talk about dirty tricks.

Mr. Hickle knew our mom had

a metal plate in her head
from an accident

she had when she was a kid,

and by broadcasting
at the right frequency,

he could transmit
radio messages

using her plate
like an antenna.

And until I get

the $695.65 you owe me

for destroying my car,

these broadcasts
will continue non-stop!

And now for a selection from
the Hawaiian Soldiers Chorus.

[ Hawaiian music playing ]

Of all the...!

You want a w*r, pal?!
You got it!

Prepare to die, blowhole!

After a lifetime of having
nothing in common with Dad,

Pete finally had a chance

to share
his all-time favorite hobby.

Revenge!

In just ten days,
they built a command center

NASA would've k*lled for.

Surveillance monitors,
radar screens,

a satellite-based
infrared camera and more.

That's Pete's idea.

It automatically flushes
the toilet in Hickle's house.

He gets in the shower,
and boom!

We boil his butt.

I don't like it, Don.
I don't like it one bit.

Well, you know,
I-I don't like it either, honey,

but Hickle has left us
with no other choice.

Isn't that right, shorty?

[ polka music playing ]
Family, we are
in a state of w*r,

and as such, each member
will be expected

to sign a loyalty oath
that prohibits,

among other things,
fraternizing with the enemy.

Dad, Ellen is
my best friend.

Was your best friend.

I won't sign it.

Son, I know it's hard,

b-b-but think
of your poor mother,

forced to wear a helmet

to muffle the constant
pounding of polka music.

It's not so bad.

I don't know, Dad.

The maniac is playing
polka music, son!

Sweaty men in lederhosen
squeezing accordions!

It-it's kind
of catchy.

And if we're going
to stop him,

we're going to have
to do it my way.

Our way!
Oh, oh, that's right.

I'm sorry, son.
Our way.

Don't be a wuss.

[ sighs ]

The ink wasn't even dry
on my signature

before Dad and Pete struck back
with the ultimate secret weapon.

[ grunts ]:
Artie, the strongest man...
in the world!

The plan was to use
Artie's super human strength

to move Mr. Hickle's house
to Saskatchewan,

but because
of a slight back sprain he got

from lifting a brazier emporium
the week before,

Artie was only able
to budge it one inch.

Even so, the prank worked
beautifully.

And with that one
tiny little inch,

the great prank w*r
was officially underway.

In the annals of modern history,

you'd have to go back
to the trench warfare

of World w*r I to fight a battle
as fiercely fought

as what became known as:

Nobody messes with Phil Hickle.

Nobody!

[ groans ]

[ flushing ]

[ screaming ]

[ laughing ]

[ contented sigh ]

♪ Marmalade cream ♪

♪ The sweet in between ♪

♪ It's a marmalade cream... ♪

Oh...

[ grunts ]

[ mimics guitar solo ]

Guitar solo.

Oh! Aah!

[ grunts ]

LITTLE PETE:
Ready, aim,

fire!

[ grunts ]

[ giggling ]

Take that,
grunge bag.

As Dad and Pete learned
the meaning of togetherness,

Ellen and I learned the meaning
of being apart.

I know it seems stupid,
but he is my dad,

and I did promise.

Besides, our every move
was being tracked by radar.

Since we knew
the pay phones were tapped,

we had to communicate
by dropping off secret letters

with crossing guard
Kenneth G. Keegan,

a man who had seen
maybe one too many spy movies.

Okay, okay.

I've got it memorized.

The plan had been for Ken
to simply deliver the notes,

but he had his own ideas.

It was a little difficult
at first.

"Dear...

Dear... Otto?"

Pete.

But after a few days,
he got the hang of it.

"Dear Pete,

"I couldn't stop...

"I couldn't

"stop...

ELLEN:
"I couldn't stop thinking
about you yesterday."

Whoa.

Hot stuff.

We're just friends.

Sure you are.

BIG PETE:
Forget our family
self-destructing.

I wanted the prank w*r to end

so Ken would stop winking
at me.

Unfortunately,

it showed no signs
of cooling down.

Fire!

[ yelling ]

[ laughing ]

Ready!

Aim!

Fire!

[ Don laughing ]

Better watch your cholesterol,
Phil.

[ laughs ]

ELLEN:
"My dad's a mess, Pete.

"A total mess.

"All he cares about is revenge.

"I don't know him anymore.

"I hate to say it,
but I think the only thing

"we ever had in common was
that stupid action figure.

"I know he expects me
to be a good, loyal daughter,

"but too bad.

This w*r has got to end."

[ knock at door ]

PHIL:
Ellen?

Ellen, it's
your daddy.

I'd like to
speak to you
for a second.

ELLEN:
"I don't know if it'll work,

but I've started giving him
the silent treatment."

[ doorknob jiggling ]

Ellen? I know
you're in there.

ELLEN:
"I just can't take it anymore.

I don't know
if you miss me, but..."

"...but I...

ELLEN:
"I miss you."

"I miss you."

I really, really
miss you, Pete."

Thanks, Ken.

BIG PETE:
I walked home faster
than usual that day

to do my stupid shift
in the w*r room.

I guess I was hoping
to catch a glimpse of Ellen.

Hi, honey.

Off to your
French horn lessons?

[ birds singing ]

Ellen Josephine Hickle,

what have I done?

When I saw her, I knew
who I had to be loyal to.

And it wasn't Dad or Pete.

I miss you, too, Ellen.

What was that?

Nothing.

[ distant beeping ]

Pete, I can't take this anymore.

You've got to call it off.

No can do, comrade.

I know why you're doing this.

It's Dad, isn't it?

You're afraid
that if the w*r ends,

your friendship will end, too.

Shut up!

I know how you feel, Pete,

but this can't last forever.

Things have
to go back to normal.

Why?

You know why.

If you're not going
to end this, I will.

[ blipping ]

Pete, hi!

Hey. Hi.

[ laughs ]

Did you get
a haircut?

Y-Yeah. Do you like it?

[ quietly ]:
Pete, what about the w*r?

That's what I want
to talk to you about.

How's the silent
treatment working?

It's been hard, but I think
it's finally getting to him.

Don?

I know you're out there.

Listen to me!

This feud has gone far enough.

I surrender.

It's over, Don.

You win.

I'll tear up the bill.

I'll turn off the music.

I'll forget about everything.

All I'm asking you
to do is

just give me back
my action figure.

I'm sending over the car
right now.

Just buckle him in the seat,
and I'll do the rest.

I don't know what this w*r
has done to your family,

but between you and me,
it's tearing mine apart.

Please, Don.

My daughter made
that action figure for me.

It means a lot to us.

I need it back.

I need her back.

Please, Don.

With the fate of the Prank w*r
entirely in his hands...

[ whirring ]

Pete made a command decision.

If Phil Hickle wanted
his action figure back

that much, he'd gladly
give it to him,

along with a little
added surprise.

As we were all
about to find out,

the w*r wasn't over
until Pete said it was over.

Head's up, shorty.

You're going home.

Son, we've got
a condition red here.

[ blaring ]

Man the battle stations.

Switch to auxiliary
life support.

[ panting ]

[ equipment whirring ]

[ high-pitched pulsating beeps ]

What's that flamehole up to?

Dad was suspicious at first,

but when Pete played back
the surveillance tape...

It's over, Don.

You win.

...he knew
they had won the w*r.

We did it, son.

[ laughs ]

We showed that clam dip
you can't mess with the best.

It'll be kind of hard
to say good-bye

to old shorty here,
but you know,

if it means that much to him.

[ chuckling ]

He escaped!

Get a grip, Dad.

Pete's fiendish scheme
was going perfectly.

Dad didn't suspect a thing.

So long, shorty.

Drive safely.

[ chuckling ]

Yeah. You know, funny.

Uh, it feels a lot heavier
than I remember it.

[ chuckles ]

Funny.
Yeah.

[ ticking ]

Wait a second.

Oh, my God, Pete.

You haven't booby-trapped
the action figure, have you?

Son, the man surrendered.

I mean, he...
he-he's at our mercy.

If-If...
if we double-cross him now,

this w*r could go on forever.

Exactly.

Are you nuts?

We won.
It's all over, son.

We did it, you and me.

Sorry, Dad.

You'll thank me
for this some day.

[ tires squealing ]

Oh, where, oh,
where did I go wrong?

Dad!
[ gasps ]

Listen to me.
Pete's out
of control.

You've got
to put an
end to this

before it's
too late.

You're absolutely right, son.

I am?

Yeah. Now, come on,
everybody.

You, too, mister.
Let's go!

We've got
to stop that car!

Come on!

Suddenly, it was the big race
all over again.

Only this time, Dad had more
on his mind than revenge.

[ ticking ]

[ tires squealing ]

[ ticking ]

Stop in the name of love!

[ ticking ]

Uh-oh!

Hi, Ken!

Halfway to the Hickles'
on Sahara Mike Avenue...

Come back, you slime dog!

...there was Mom, shattered

from 14 straight days
of sonic assaults.

♪ Marmalade cream ♪

♪ The sweet in between... ♪

Mom!
Mom!

♪ It's marmalade cream... ♪

Don't worry, honey.

It's almost over.

Are we gonna k*ll him?

No, we're gonna save him.

♪ Now just give me some sugar ♪

♪ You know something sweet... ♪

[ ticking ]

You're almost home.

[ ticking ]

[ grunts ]

Speed kills.

[ tires squealing ]

[ device whirring ]

Pulling a double-cross
on Phil Hickle? Never!

Dad!

[ brakes screeching ]

Put that down!

It's booby-trapped!

[ screaming ]

[ grunting ]

Oh, what the...?
[ high-pitched beep ]

[ instrumental version of
"Star Spangled Banner" plays ]

It's a lousy watch.

Huh?

Oh, Don, are you okay?

Uh, yeah.

What's all this
about a booby trap?

Well, that's what
I'd like to know, Phil.

It had all been a trick.

A fake-out
to end all fake-outs.

Pete knew the only way

the feud would end
for good was

if Dad and Mr. Hickle
came together

and became friends again.

Even though it might mean

losing his own friendship
with Dad,

Pete had to end the w*r
his way, the Pete way.

Suddenly,
Dad understood everything.

Pete, Pete.
Wait, Pete. Pete!

Wait up, Pete!

It was all a trick,
wasn't it?

I mean, to get me
and Mr. Hickle friends again.

Well, son, uh, it worked.

[ chuckles ]

I mean, I've got
to hand it to you.

You did all right.

Well, now we can get things
back to normal around here.

Well, you know, almost normal.

You know what I mean.

It looks like
he might need
some new eyebrows.

And a new face.

[ sighs ]

That's pretty much
the whole story.

Artie moved the house back
to where it belonged,

Ellen and I vowed

to never let anyone
keep us apart ever again,

and Mom--
she let Mr. Hickle know

there were really
no hard feelings.

As for Pete and Dad--

well, they might have lost
the one thing

they had in common
now that the w*r was over,

but in the end,
at least they found each other.