[Whirring]
[Theme music plays]
[Whirring]
Man: It's alive!
[Thunder rumbles]
- He was the bingo caller.
- B- .
A very unlucky number.
I better call her.
Our investigator has a
few questions for you.
I must warn you, she's
a little unorthodox.
[Sings fanfare]
[Music]
[Bell dings]
[Grunts]
What's up, [bleep] nuts?
Damn, I haven't seen
this much white hair
since Steve Martin sucked
Leslie Nielsen's [bleep].
- Allegedly.
- Bitch Pudding, please!
- You, raisin [bleep].
- My name is Anabelle Timulti.
Your name is guilty as a mother [bleep]
unless you've got an alibi,
bar-of-soap-in-a-sock tits.
I was here, playing bingo.
One more lie out of that
sh*t nozzle you call a mouth,
and I'll leave a boot
print in your front butt.
- Leave her alone, you!
- The floor recognizes that [bleep] ass,
sh*t-covered [bleep] sucker
with the p*ssy-ass cane.
Reginald was a good man!
Why would someone m*rder him?
Maybe because he was emptying
his bingo balls up your fat-ass
wife's cigar cutter, you
quibbling bowl of pickle dicks.
- What?! [Gasps] Why, you ...
- g*n! [Grunts]
You assaulted a -year-old man.
- He sassed me.
- Bitch Pudding, I make it my business
to understand what makes people tick.
For example, why would
a highly-respected actor
play not one, but two roles
in a low-quality TV show?
Well, perhaps his brother-in-law
invented the motorcycle
that runs on water-softener pellets,
and that actor invested heavily
without doing his due diligence.
- Uh...
- But your behavior has no explanation.
If you don't solve
this crime by midnight,
I'm throwing you away
and locking up the key.
And remember my motto...
no second takes. [Bangs gavel]
Damn it, B.P.!
Why did you call me out here
in the middle of the night?
The bingo ball that k*lled the victim
didn't match the others at the scene.
It was made of a polyvinyl
chloride with an antiquated
flat-lay plasticizer, only
used by this factory, dipshit.
- But you don't have a warrant.
- Here's my warrant. [Grunts]
Now, like I was saying,
here's my warrant.
[g*nsh*t]
Oh, damn, I'm hit!
[Sings fanfare]
[Grunting]
[Grunts]
[Screaming]
[Buzzes]
All those in favor of the
death penalty, say, "eye."
Ooh, that's gross.
[Click, whirring]
[Thud]
So hard seeing your
friends die every day.
Me, I just keep on surviving!
Man: Ooh, awesome ... an apple!
Oh, this is it ... sweet release!
Death, I walk willingly into your arms!
I can't wait to core that apple
and stick my [bleep] in it!
- Oh! [Thud]
- I'm Rod Serling Banana.
Be careful what you wish for.
Good advice when you enter ...
Ooh, that banana looks like
a perfect fit for the old butthole!
Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
Oh...
[Thud]
Gentlemen, I give you the M&M.
It comes in yellow,
green, red, and violet.
But we think there
should be a fifth color.
- Any suggestions?
- How about brown?
Larry, for Chri...
There's already chocolate inside.
The point is that there's a
brightly colored candy shell!
- How about brown?!
- Are you even listening to me?!
Brown isn't fun.
Brown isn't attractive.
- Brown?
- Larry, what is wrong with you?
The brown dye people have my kids.
They have my [bleep] kids!
[music]
[Theme music playing]
Excuse me, sir, does
your dog nunchuck people?
- What? No!
- Good doggie! Ow, ow!
That's not my dog!
[Theme music playing]
A celestial air hovers overhead.
We must leave our physical form
and join it before the world ends.
- Hey, Kool-aid!
- Oh, yeah!
Oh, no! Oh, please, no!
Not another cult!
I don't know what your leader told
you, but you don't have to die!
[Sobbing]
It's Jonestown all over again!
[Sobs]
[Theme music playing]
I'm giving you the
chocolate factory, Charlie.
- Oh, gosh! Why?
- You have a trusting heart, my child.
Just sign here.
Charles Bucket,
as the legal owner of
the chocolate factory,
you are held responsible
for the deaths and/or maiming
of Augustus Gloop,
Veruca Salt, Mike Teevee,
and Violet Beauregarde.
You've won a golden ticket
to the electric chair.
Do you have anything to say?
I'll see Willy Wonka
in hell, your honor!
Noted.
[Bangs gavel]
Hmm, murdering children
was fun while it lasted,
but I can live with this, too.
Finger in your snozzberry, sir?
[cr*ck!]
[Groans]
It finally came!
[Stammering]
[Sniffling]
Mom, I didn't get into Monsters U.
Woman: Well, that's why you applied
to a safety school in the sewer, honey.
Oh, I don't want to go to brown.
I'm gonna dedicate my life
to stopping all injustice in the world.
Like when the white
man decimated my people
- as they r*ped the land?
- No.
Yeah, I so tap her on the shoulder,
- you know, just to get her attention.
- Uh-huh, of course.
Well, all of a sudden, her
friends come out of nowhere.
They start pissing all over us.
- You don't need that.
- I don't need that.
- You're too tall to be a jockey.
- But it's my dream!
It's time you learned
dreams don't come true.
I guess my racing dream is dead.
Well, that's what a p*ssy would say.
Well, what do you know about it?
You're not a horse, you're a unicorn.
A unicorn's just a horse who's
a little more horny than usual.
Forget I just said that.
Pretend I said,
"hop aboard, I'm a wild ride!"
Forget I just said that also.
Pretend I said,
"right now, I'm the only horse you've got."
That seems pretty innocuous.
Yeah! I'm ...
I'm gonna achieve my dream!
Hey! We're so far
behind the other jockeys!
- Like hard, ripe, little apples.
- Uh, what?
Yeah, you mentioned jockey behinds.
Last place?!
Thanks for nothing!
You're the one with the dream.
- What's my incentive, hmm?
- Uh, food, shelter, oats.
Well, sometimes dreams require
a little more hard work,
or perhaps doing things that
might haunt you long after
the thrill of accomplishing
your dream has subsided.
[Nickers]
Are you saying you'll
win the race if I...
Give me the hummer of a lifetime!
So you finally gave
up on your dreams, huh?
Dreams are gross.
Holy [bleep]
Your horse just won!
I guess all he needed
was a better jockey.
Unicorn: Oh, Bentley!
Yes, play it like an oboe!
That's right!
Now do "flight of the Bumblebee."
[Nickers]
Oh, whoo, whoo! Oh, whoa!
[Music]
[Cheers and applause]
Dang, son!
It don't matter who rides
him, as long as it isn't you!
[Bell tolls]
I can't believe all
those jockeys are dead.
- You the only one left, son.
- Hey, you're right!
Justin, if you're seeing this,
then every jockey in the country
is dead from a rare strain
of horse throat gonorrhea.
I realized how wrong I was
to blackmail you over our partnership.
k*lling all of your competition
was my way of putting things right.
But if I'd given you that hummer,
I would have d*ed, too.
In case you think giving me a hummer
would have k*lled you, too,
I want to assure you
that I would have finished
in your hair, like a friend.
Good-bye, partner.
Yeah!
Well, you won your first race.
And just in time, too.
The state's shutting down
horse racing indefinitely
until they figure out
what k*lled those jockeys.
I know what k*lled those jockeys, Dad.
Friendship.
The cops think maybe those
jockeys were blowing the horses.
Yeah, maybe that, too.
[Clucking theme song]
Ba-gok!
Bok.
[Horse whinnies]
08x08 - Blackout Window Heat Stroke
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American adult animated comedy with a series of pop-culture parodies about everything.
American adult animated comedy with a series of pop-culture parodies about everything.