08x12 - Triple Hot Dog Sandwich on Wheat

[bunniefuu]

[Whirring]
[Theme music plays]

[Whirring]

Man: It's alive!

[Screeches]

Pull!

[Growls]

[Ghostly music plays]

No, dude, no.
Just... no.

If I am to take king's landing,
I need an army, Jon Snow.

King Stannis, the wildlings
will not fight for you.

Damn the wildlings!
I desire a much different army.

[Shouting]
[Rock music plays]

Yeah! Kiss army, dude!

- I hate riding bitch.
- "Destroyer" was their best album,

Though I am a fan of
music from "the Elder."

You know nothing, Jon Snow!
Whoo!

Baby alive eats and drinks
and even dirties her diaper!

I love you, bab... [fart]

I love ... [fart]

I lov... [fart]

I love you, baby al...

[Heavy fart]

I love you, baby a... [fart]

I lov...
[Farting]

[Screeching]

[Tires screech]

I need two for sheet rock work.

[Tires squeal]

[Screeching]

I'm Jonathan Property.

Me and my brother, Drew
Property, get you the proper

proprietary promptly if you
give us proper props, proper!

And I'm Drew. Actually,
our last name is Scott.

[Music]

I want a craftsman in
a good school district.

I'm looking to acquire land
on the San Andreas fault

that will become beach-front property

when I launch my intercontinental
ballistic missiles,

creating a mega-earthquake
that sinks California.

The schools are also important.

It is a fixer-upper, but this is
the -Bed, -Bath you're looking for.

- Oh, my gosh! I love it!
- I was hoping for something

bigger, like a castle, maybe,
with statues of lions and naked ladies.

Oh, Lex doesn't see eye to eye with Eve,

but I think he'll change his
tune when he sees the back yard.

The San Andreas fault literally
runs through the back yard.

We'll take it and every
other house on the block.

Boom, commissions!
Up prop!

Bro, wait until we're
in our prius property.

- Sorry about him.
- Don't you propologize for me.

[Music]

It's been a month since Lex
and Eve made their purchase.

Let's check in and
see how they're doing.

Well, things didn't work out
between me and Miss Teschmacher,

or me and the missiles,
or me and k*lling Superman.

On the bright side, it's
tater tot day in the cafeteria.

On the less bright side, now
I'm these brothers' property.

[Loud banging] God, the new
neighbors bang like rabbits!

I can't take it anymore!

Wait a minute!
That's Morse code.

- They're trying to tell us something.
- What? Really?

What are they saying?
[Banging continues]

They're being held hostage.
They're being tortured.

- We need to send help!
- Holy sh*t! Really?!

No, they're just [bleep]ing.

That's right!
Make me another baby to sell!

Do you think anyone's heard us yet?

I told you nobody knows
Morse code anymore.

Hi, honey!
Jesus H. Christ, what is that?!

I'm expressing my individuality.
All my friends have tattoos!

How the hell are you gonna
get a job when you grow up?

You think a law firm or
a bank will hire you now?

- I don't think so.
- Yeah!

The First National Bank of Dad
can kiss my ass!

My youtube channel is
blowing up, okay? I'm famous.

[Music]

- Are s okay?
- Cover your ass!

Man: Commandment , eat not of bananas,

for they are the penis of the Lord.

There, that should do it.

Now, Moses?
M-Moses?

Well, they'll figure it out.

[Smooth jazz playing]

[Coughing]

[Coughing intensifies]

[Wheezing]

I hear you're one of the
greatest burglars in the world.

Well, congratulations.

You've stolen healthy
years from yourself.

[Smooth jazz resumes]

I totally forgot about the diagnosis.

Emphysema ... what
you have is emphysema.

Man: We're in the respiratory
wing of the animation hospital

in Studio City, California,
referred to by staff

as tobacco row ...
and for good reason.

Remember this?

Heya, Fred, you need
a light for that smoke

- with the smooth, rich flavor?
- Do I ever, old pal.

[Chirps]

Mmm, mmm!
Yabba-dabba-doo!

[Through throat speaker]
Yabba-dabba-doo.

Man: Jesus Christ, this
is yabba-dabba-depressing.

Speaking of which...

The doctor says all those
years of secondhand pipe smoke

has significantly reduced
my life expectancy.

It didn't help that you're
' " and weigh pounds.

The irony is Popeye's just fine.

All of them ansky-onskidents

in me spinach kept
me lungs cancer-free.

Ah-ka-ka-ka-ka-ka-ka!
[toot! toot!]

[Wheezing, coughing]

Welcome to the I.C.U.

I have stage IV lung cancer.

Uh, should he be smoking in here?

Should the giant talking
caterpillar with cancer

be smoking a hookah in a hospital?

Take your break now, Sharon.

Man: But life goes on
for these survivors ...

a life made easier with friends.

[Laughing]

I never get tired of hearing
your robot voice there, Fred.

Barney, you're an assh*le.

Oh, cheer up, Fred.
Bedrock is flavor country.

Put that out, [bleep].

You're standing next to pure oxygen!

[expl*si*n]

Don't worry, Mr. President.
I'll make sure that one day,

you're on a coin of
our lowest denomination.

It will be a different color
from all the other coins,

and people will hate
it ... just hate it.

Shut up and kiss me, you fool.

- Oh!
- Mwah!

- Honey!
- Oh, learn to knock. God!

I'm sorry, Shadow, baby.
I forgot.

I told you, Melisandre,
I want to be called Connor!

Okay, Connor. Dinner's ready.

Mom, I literally don't eat!
I'm made of vag*na smoke. Duh!

Connor, I saw in the flames
that if you don't join us

for dinner tonight, all may be in peril.

Well, you know what I saw in the flames?

[Blows raspberry]

Oh, what can I do to
connect with you, sweetheart?

And now, my son, Connor,
would like to perform for you.

All right, thanks for coming out, guys.

This first song's really personal to me.

It's called "Emerging from
a witch's [bleep] in a cave."

One, two, three!

Go, go, Gadget coptor.
Oh, my!

It's actually working.

Wow, a top-secret mission!

Yes, the CIA needs Gadget's
help more than Metro City does,

now that Dr. Claw is
making an honest living

selling herbal supplements.

I'll get you...

the bikini body you always wanted!

[Buzzing]

Wowsers!
I'm just in time for a wedding.

Go, go, Gadget tuxedo!
Say, what the...

Uncle Gadget's malfunctioning again.

- Wait, what's going on?!
- Fire!

[gasps]
Oh, no!

[expl*si*n]

Boom! Target eliminated!

Gadget makes a far
better drone than a cop!

- Oh, my God!
- Great job, Gadget!

Your country is proud of you.

Go, go, Gadget PTSD.

[Whimpering]

- May I help you?
- Yes. Uh...

Yes, and...

Uh...
I forgot what this joke is.

[whispers] sh*t.

Oh, God.
Uh, line?!

I'm so sorry. [Laughs]
Line?!

Uh, we've had to return several checks

because their amounts
exceeded your balance.

[Music]

Oh, my [bleep] back.
I hate that bed, Mary Anne.

Oh, hush. What do you
want for dinner tonight?

- A new bed.
- Tater tot casserole it is.

[Chuckles]

[Sniffs]

Ugh, porridge!
[clatter]

Ugh, porridge!

Porridge!

Ooh, here we go!

[Rock music plays]
Whoo!

You want some of this, don't you?

I know you do, I know you do.

You can't have it.
Hands off, loser!

Ha-ha!
[Bleep] you, stupid!

Hard as sh*t!

Soft as sh*t!

Ah, just right as sh*t!

"sh*t" is a really versatile word.

"Yo, bae, found perf bed
to smash in."

[Gulping]

[Burps]

Oh, [bleep] this.

[Snoring]

Wha... someone's been in our house!

[Music stops]

[g*n cocks]
[screams]

What the f...
It's just a girl, Mary Anne.

Where are you taking her?

I'm gonna eat her, what
do you think. I'm a bear.

You're going to take her
straight back to her parents.

That's what you're gonna do.

Of course, clearly
that's what I'm gonna do.

Jesus.

- What the [bleep] Goldie?!
- Why are you trippin'?

I wanted to see where you lived.

I got your text, by the way.
Very funny!

What if my wife had seen it?

- You said you were leaving her!
- I am, soon, I swear.

Come on, baby. I'm so, so sorry.

Oh, I'm sorry, too.
Do you forgive me, baby?

Does a bear [bleep] in the woods?

[Chuckles]
You better!

[Moaning]

Too hard.

Too soft.

[Gasps] Just right.

[Clucking theme song]

- Ba-gok!
- Bak.

[Monkey hooting]

[Clap]