01x13 - Joking the Chicken

Episode transcripts for the TV show, "Duckman: Private d*ck/Family Man". Aired: March 5, 1994 – September 6, 1997.*
Watch/Buy Amazon

In a universe where humans and anthropomorphic animals coexist, the series centers on Eric Tiberius Duckman, a widowed, lewd, self-hating, egocentric anthropomorphic duck who lives with his family in Los Angeles and works as a private detective.
Post Reply

01x13 - Joking the Chicken

Post by bunniefuu »

[whistles]

[quacks]

["Also Sprach Zarathustra"
playing]

[grunting]

[laughing]

Waa!

[laughing]

So I told her,

hey, just think of it
as a hairy recliner. Oh!

Thanks a lot.
You're beautiful.

Except you, lady.

You're a freakin'
schnauzer in pumps.

I'm serious.

Is that your face

or did your butt
open a branch office? Oh!

Ba-da-bing!
Ba-da-bang! Ba-da-boom!

Thank you, ladies and jerks.

Hey, we got a guy up next.
I'm looking at him now.

And that reminds me,
my doctor needs a stool sample.

Oh! Fake an orgasm
for Iggy Catalpa.

That wasn't very nice.

Hey, I'll cry tomorrow.

You know, I never seen glasses
on a turd before. Oh!

Uh, thank you.

I, uh, I'm... Iggy Catalpa.

I was checking my wallet
like I forgot.

So, I, uh, uh,
I'm very happy to be here,

but then, I'm happy to be here.

I mean anywhere.

I'm happy to be anywhere.

[coughing]

I, uh, I hope none of you
were offended by Mr. Roulette.

He just forgets that, well,

sometimes you can hurt people,
and the best laughter

comes from good, clean,
inoffensive fun.

You suck!

You'll regret that when you, uh,

think better of it.

Sorry to be so harsh.

So, this medical care-giver
of indeterminate gender--

because nurses
can be male or female--

says to his or her disabled--

or should I say,
differently-abled patient--

"Why do you have a penguin
on your head?

They're endangered."

Ha. Ha-ha.

Drop dead, geekenstein!

I'm sorry. I'm doing my best.

Hey, don't do that, please?

Gee, I'd give anything if I
could make an audience laugh.

Anything?

Talk about an outrage!

My life insurance is canceled!

Why would they drop me?

Could it be because you
attempted to defraud them

ten times last month by falsely
reporting your own death?

Don't guess at things
you can't be sure of.

There's good news though.

I may have found an answer.

Life is cheap.

Tell me about it.

Just last week, I was in a bar
talking to a white slaver...

No, no, no, no, no!

"Life Is Cheap
Insurance Company."

This was on my doorstep.
Listen.

"Complete and mail the enclosed
do-it-yourself physical

"to qualify for
the most easy-to-afford

and erratic
life insurance available."

Beats the heck out of some quack
charging me through the bill

just to grope a bunch of places

I don't even touch...
hardly ever.

Says I need
another person's help though--

someone with at least
a minimal amount

of medical knowledge.

I graduated with honors from the
Universidad de Medicino in Peru.

But you're the son
of poor Okie mountain pigs.

How did you afford med school?

Two words:
vivisection volunteer.

Sure, it hurt, but I'm told,
as a result

of banging me on the head
with a large hammer

and then slicing open my stomach

and digging around
in my insides,

they were able to rule out
two theories

on why fat people perspire.

Worthy cause.
So, shall we get on with it?

Bend over, grab the desk
and grit your teeth.

Wait a minute.

Does it say we
have to do this?

Never mind.

It appears that you suffer

from high blood pressure
induced by stress.

High blood pressure?!

Induced by stress?!

That's terrible news!

I hate getting terrible news!

I hate it! I hate it!
I hate it! I hate it!

It says here, "In case
of stress-induced

"high blood pressure,
take enclosed pill.

"Then relax,
kick your webs up

and have a few laughs."

A few laughs. Yeah.

If only there was something

to bring a few laughs
into my life.

[intercom buzzing]

URANUS:
Mr. Duckman, four comedians
here to see you.

If only there
was something

to bring a few busty,
leather-clad,

thrill-seeking ex-nuns
into my life.

It was worth a sh*t.

Hey, yo!

Cornfed, look!

My four favorite comedians

and one of their
marginally talented husbands.

What are you doing here?

That's the second time
I heard that today.

The first was when
I woke up in bed

next to my wife.
Ha, ha, ha...

[gagging]

I don't believe it.

Corny, this
is Roulette.

How you doing?

You remind me
of a chick I once porked. Oh!

Hoo-hoo! I love it!

He offends everyone.

This is
Dennis Shandberg.

He finds humor
in everyday lives.

Why do they call it "porking?"

I mean, when pigs do it,
do they call it "peopling?"

Hoo-hoo-hoo! Get it?

It's funny 'cause it's obvious.

This is Roxanne
and her husband what's-his-name.

John. How you do...?

[gagging]

See, John, I told you
men were pigs.

[laughing]

She's right, Corny.

When you think about it,
we all are pigs.

And this is Marvin.

He played the street-smart,
yet non-threatening

black surgeon married
to a corporate lawyer

living in Beverly Hills
with his garbage man father

and overweight mother on
the sitcom Ain't Life a Bitch?

What up, what up, what up?

Look, white skin, black skin,
pig skin--

we all laugh at the same thing--

makin' bacon.

[laughing hysterically]

So true! So true!

We need you
to solve a case for us.

Solve a case!

That's a good one!

Boy, that's absurd!

That's really...

Oh. [chuckles]

You're serious.

Well, then you've come
to the right duck.

Who's the pile you
want me to scoop up?

Iggy Catalpa,
comedian.

He's stealing
our audience.

Huh?
He's too good.

No one wants
to hear us.

What we want is for you
to dig up some dirt on him.

There's got to be something
you can find to get rid of him.

Look, uh, g*ng, I don't know.

I mean, there's no law
against someone being funny.

Maybe he's just got
something new

or special or different
about his humor.

ALL:
It's clean!

Clean?!

I can't let a lowdown scum like
that put you guys out of work!

This world's depressing enough
without a few insults, slurs

and good, honest laughs
at other people's expense.

A case like this,
you take for the principle...

and any favors, freebies,
and groupie phone numbers

you can throw my way.

We'll give you some fake vomit
and a whoopee cushion.

Throw in an ice cube
with a fly in it

and you got yourself a deal.

I love these things.

I can't wait to meet
this guy, Corny.

I'm going to give his past a
once-over he'll never forget.

Get the dirt
beneath the dirt.

They don't call me "The
Dust Buster" for nothing.

Who calls you The Dust Buster?

People.
Who?

Okay, no one,

but after this,
they will.

Who will?
Never mind!

[crowd laughing]

Wow, you hear
that, Corny?

Those guys were right.

This guy must
be incredible.

Let's go see.

A differently-abled person

goes to a medical care-giver
of indeterminate gender

and the care-giver says,
"Why do you have

"a penguin on your head?

They're endangered."

[laughing]

Funny.

This must be
some kind of joke,

'cause that sure wasn't.

It's all going
according to plan.

I can't believe you thought
that guy was funny.

I had math classes
funnier than him

and I couldn't even sleep
through this.

I got to find something
that'll take him down.

Chances are, he won't
talk to a detective,

so I brought a disguise.

Voila! Not bad, huh?

Hey, where did Duckman go?

I was just talking to him

and, suddenly, poof--
he was gone

and a complete stranger
was standing in his place.

Fine. Make mock if you like,
but this is perfect.

People open doors
for reporters

they won't open
for anyone else.

If you're a reporter,
I'm not opening the door.

Kidding-- I heard what you said.

It screamed for a payoff.

Come in, Mister...?

Duckman, uh...

Duckman N. Disguise.

And this is my assistant.

Pat Corchrane.

That's the best
you could do?

We're reporters

for the Sun
Sentinel Globe

Tribune Times
Herald Picayune.

So much for that front page,
but seriously,

last time I talked
to a reporter,

he said,
"Any words for the press?"

And I said,
"Yeah, get a real job."

One, two, three.

But, hey, enough about you.

Moe Needleman, formerly
the wizard of one-liners

on the "Boisht" Belt Circuit,

now Iggy Catalpa's
personal manager

and all-around yenta.

Huh?

It's Yiddish.

An older generation
of comics uses it

to further distance itself
from a young audience.
Ah.

Young, schmoung.

Comedy changes,
but funny never does.

Ask me about my date
to the senior prom.

What happened with your
date to the senior prom?

She canceled
to go to a wedding--

her own! Ha-boom.

I said, "What, you
can't do both?"

Ba-boom.

Funny 40 years ago, funny now.

What am I--
talking in tongues?

You're looking at me
like my Aunt Sophie did

when I told her I was playing

hide the kreplach
with a shiksa! Ba-dum-boom.

Which reminds me--
can you believe those airlines?

Needleman, take a breather.

We're here to do
a story on Iggy.

You never heard
of warming up a crowd?

Igaleh, we have people.

Come, join.

Hi, everyone.
Look what Moe got me.

It's a robe
with my initials on it.

Gee, this is the best gift
I ever got,

assuming no animals
were k*lled to make it.

Course not. The ones they used
was already dead,

but I want to tell you

Iggy, this is
Mr. Corchrane

and Mr. Disguise.

They're reporters

and they want to do
a story on you.

On me?

That's even neater
than the robe.

No offense to the gift,
of course.

There's no reason
to praise a story

by tearing down the robe's
self-esteem.

Such bilkes I get from him.

Couldn't you just plotz?

Yeah, all over the carpet.

I've got some questions
for Iggy.

Subtlety is the key

to getting the dirt
we want, Corny.

So, uh, Iggy,

it must be a bit heady
basking in all this glory,

especially
after your earlier days

as a... male hustler, was it?

What?
Not to mention

those run-ins with the
authorities over that
baby-selling ring.

I don't know
what you're talking about.

What about that story
linking you

to the international
drug cartel?!

Moe, what's he doing?

A smear job, kid, but
he's wasting his ink.

He lives as clean
as he works, Disguise.

And that's why he's going
all the way to the top.

I've seen 'em all and Iggy's
the best there's ever been.

What, are you nuts?

What about Foul-Mouth Jackson,
Billy "Bananas" Bonetti,

or how about when Smoky Dan

used to hit Officer Barry
with a flaming a*?

Oh, boy, that was comedy!

They didn't last,
and you know why?

Because you didn't feel better
when it was over.

There's only one way
I can explain it.

Tickle the ivories?

I spent a year and a half

in the Tiki Room
at the Toledo Holiday Inn.

Play, gypsy, play.

* There's a wild,
funny feeling *

* That you feel inside *

* When it comes bubbling out *

* Ha, ha *

* It sends your senses reeling *

* It can't be denied *

* And it comes spurting out *

* Ha, ha *

* Take all the world's money *

* Increase it by half *

* Then offer it to me *

* I'd still rather laugh *

* There's no bigger pisser
than a pie in the kisser *

* As it comes gushing out *

* Ha, ha *

Does it aim to please?

* Ha, ha *

Is it always in threes?

* Ha, ha, ha, ha *

* When life
gets too tough for me *

* And deals bad stuff for me *

* It's more than enough
for me to laugh *

* People are filled with hate *

* And burdened
by sorrow's weight *

* So, please, if it's not
too late, just laugh *

* It's the only reaction
to the thunderous din *

* When you can't help yourself *

* Ha, ha *

* It's the self-satisfaction *

* If you have it, you win *

* So get off of the shelf *

* Ha, ha *

* Winners and losers *

* Through pleasure and pain *

* Just love mishegoss,
astamul, gesehen *

* From Maine to Katmandu *

* This man and
that man, too *

* Can't do without, can you? *

* Ha, ha *

* It's the antidote
for your aunt, you'll note *

* That you can, you dolt *

* Oftenhand by rote *

* When laughter takes over,
you're rolling in clover *

* It's comedy *

* Comedy *

* And they call it *

* Ha, ha! *

Now do you get it?

Hi, Duckman.

You're home late.

That's it?

No zinger
about what a lousy father I am?

No one-liner about how
either I just walked in

or a garbage truck
overturned in our living room?

Iggy Catalpa says
insult humor's passé.

Et tu, Bernie?

What's happening here?!

This guy's taken over!
He's everywhere!

IGGY:
Excuse us,
Mr. Disguise.

I'm even starting to hear
his voice in my own home.

BOYS:
Iggy!

Howdy, preadults.

I love performing
for young people,

especially if they're
dually capitated.

This is where you say,
"Do you know what time it is?"

And I say, "Time to get
a new lock on your door."

Try to keep up.
But seriously,

forgot to give you these
back at the club.

Two backstage passes

to my boy's
maiden appearance next week on--

drumroll please--

The Late Night Tonight show.

Cool!
All right!

Mr. Catalpa, may I say
what a joy it is

to see someone like you succeed

using humor
that doesn't degrade anyone

who's the slightest bit
different from himself.

Right! Like I was the only one
who laughed at the joke

about the gay midget
with the cleft palate.

Oof!

Morris Needleman,
Iggy's mentor,

but you can call me Moe,
as in "Moe knows comedy."

[giggles]

[snorts]

Oh, Moe knows
charm, too.

Moe's gonna want to know

a good lip doctor when he finds
out where that hand's been.

Speaking of disgusting,

why did the congressperson
almost regurgitate?

Because he or she
got inebriated on power.

I, uh, I usually
don't do satire.

Pardon me, sutzklah.

May we use your bathroom?

That joke
usually does so well.

The joke's fine.

You're just running
a little low.

If you think I'm so funny,

how come I got to drink
this stuff?

Audiences are stupid.

You got to force them to like
the right things.

Now get out there

and m*rder them...
with laughter.

And speaking of laughter,

the last laugh's
going to be on you, Duckman.

[laughing]

And he turned to her
and he said,

"Well, ma'am, it's better
than a pubic hair in your Coke."

Not, of course, the kind of joke
meant for our constituents.

For what is our job,
if not to legislate

a different set of standards
for our citizens

than we set for ourselves?

The answer lies
in "The Iggy Act"

which states that all jokes
told publicly

must be as nice as Iggy's.

But wouldn't that violate

the constitutional right
to free speech?

[murmuring]

Thank heavens for white-out.

Iggy, Iggy, Iggy!

It's driving me
out of my mind!

Every single person I know
loves him and he isn't funny!

Funny is a whiffle-ball bat
in the gazongas,

or a little Super Glue
on a toothbrush,

or this all-occasion
pocket insulter.

Put a sack on it
and slam it in a door.

Put a sack on it and slam
it in a door.

[laughing]

Actually, I find the politically
correct Iggy Catalpa

Pocket Comforter much funnier.

We sometimes disagree, but it
doesn't mean we can't hug.

We sometimes disagree,

but it doesn't mean
we can't hug.

[chuckles]

[groans]

DUCKMAN:
It's over.

Without laughter,
I don't know what's left.

I might as well go backstage.
Wish him luck.

Maybe I could learn to like him.

"Why is that penguin
on your head?

They're endangered."

[weak chuckle]

Oh, boy, what's the use?

I still don't get 'em.
I never will!

Iggeleh, go autograph
some pictures for those orphans.

So, Duckman,
now that you've seen my secret,

it's me, your arch-nemesis--

King Chicken!

Whoa!

[laughing]

[clucking]

DUCKMAN:
Why are you strapping me down?

What are you
going to do to me?

Relax. You've got
the best seat in the house.

Well, I appreciate
the compliment,

but I don't swing that way.

No, you simpering idiot.

You still don't see, do you?

I did all this for you.

When we were
schoolchildren together,

it was you who taunted me,

who humiliated me,

who got the
other children

to laugh at me!

But things have changed.

You're the outcast now.

After tonight, you'll know
what it's like

to have the whole world laugh

and to not be able
to laugh with it.

[laughing]

[clucking]

But how?

Do you ever wonder

what makes someone funny?

Hey. Wit happens.

Likability!

I created a formula

that gives its user
instant charisma.

One gulp and that
walking oatmeal

seemed like a comic genius.

No one could resist him,

except you.

Of course, because I was
too worldly and sophisticated

to be so easily duped.

No, because you were
such a moron.

You took the antidote
for the formula.

Only you would fall

for that idiotic do-it-yourself
home physical

I sent for that phony-baloney
insurance company,

taking that so-called pill

that did absolutely nothing
for your high blood pressure.

You mean, I'm not insured?

Egad, but you're an imbecile.

Well, three minutes
to show time.

Consider this concert
one last bit of misery

before I come back...

and finish you off.

Hope I like the warm-up act.

Mind if I sit
with you, gorgeous?

[giggling]

Help!

Help! Help! Help!!

Let me get you
out of there.

Wow, yelling "help" never works.

I'm non-union.

ANNOUNCER:
It's time for the moment

you've all been waiting for.

Iggy, wait!

[gasping]

Hey, Moe, Mr. Disguise
told me everything

and I don't think
it's very...

Get out there,
you shmendrick!

[yells]

The red liquid's
my intelligence formula.

Dad!

I know you all came here
to see Iggy Catalpa

because you think he's funny,
because you like his style,

because you just plain like him,
right?

ALL:
Yeah!

But you just think you do

because you were manipulated
into thinking you do by him--

King Chicken.

[audience gasps]

He did it the same way
they manipulate us

into buying toothpaste, car wax,

even politicians--
all prepackaged,

the least offensive,
most appealing alternative,

but it's precisely
when humor is offensive

that we need it most.

Comedy should provoke.

It should blast
through prejudices,

challenge preconceptions.

Comedy should always leave you
different

than when it found you.

[murmuring]

The rabble seems roused.

Sure, humor can hurt,
even alienate,

but the risk is better
than the alternative--

a steady diet of innocuous,
child-proof, flavorless mush!

Demand to be challenged,
to be offended,

to be treated like thinking,
reasoning adults

and raise your children
to be the same.

Don't let a comedian, a network,

a congressional committee,
or an evil genius

take away your freedom
to laugh at whatever you want.

Exit stage left.

Don't think you've seen
the last of me yet, Duckman.

[laughing]

Wow, Dad.

That was incredible.

I never heard you be
so passionate and eloquent.

Yeah, well, it was
because I accidentally swallowed

King Chicken's
intelligence formula.

The stuff I was drinking?

Actually, Mr. Disguise,
that was just cherry soda.

Look, Iggy, I'm sorry

I had to expose
him like that

and bring your world
crashing down around you.

Me, too.

Well, guess it's time to move on
to my lesbian jokes.

Hey, whatever works.

I think everything's
going to be all right.

[humming]

* ...When it comes
bubbling out *

* Ha, ha... *

[humming]
Post Reply