03x20 - Steel Hog/Dealer's Choice Cut

[bunniefuu]

♪ Hakuna matata ♪

♪ what a wonderful phrase ♪

♪ hakuna matata ♪

♪ ain't no passing craze ♪

♪ it means no worries ♪

♪ for the rest of your days ♪

♪ it's our problem-free ♪

♪ philosophy ♪

♪ hakuna matata ♪

♪ yeah! ♪

♪ Hakuna matata! ♪

♪ Timon and Pumbaa! ♪

♪ Hakuna matata! ♪

♪ It means no worries ♪

♪ for the rest of your days ♪

♪ it's our problem-free ♪

♪ philosophy ♪

♪ hakuna matata ♪

♪ Timon and Pumbaa ♪

Pumbaa, this is
exactly the way I like it...

True hakuna matata.

You said it, Timon.

No worries, no cares...

No problem catching lunch.

Once again we are
of one mind, old friend.

Mmm. That's why we're
the bestest best pals.

Mmm. We're simpatico.

Like two peas in a pod.

Like two bugs in my mouth.

Hey, Pumbaa, do
you like parties?

Oh, every kind, including
necktie and supperware.

Then you're gonna love this...

"Big party.

Nobody admitted without a hog."

Oh, boy.

Uh, but, Timon, where
are we going to find a hog?

Oh.

I can't wait to meet
all the other hogs.

Ta-da!

Oy.

[Bugs buzzing

well, hate to
leave early, but...

What do we have here?

A rat and a pig.

One's for stomping,

and the other's for barbecuing.

My name's wolf.

Hi. I'm Timon, and
we're just on our way out.

No, we aren't.

We came for the party.

Ya hear that, guys?

They came for the party.

Right you are.

I'm the hog you said we
needed on your party poster.

No, you piston-heads.

These... are hogs.

Full-blown, chrome-plated,
souped-up motorcycles.

- Whoo!
- Oh, boy, oh, boy!

I've always wanted
to be a biker, Timon.

They're just like us.

They have no worries,
no cares, no jobs,

and they're not
sticklers for hygiene.

If they just ate bugs, they'd
be full-on hakuna matata.

You guys really
know how to live.

You travel the open road

looking for adventure...

Hey, watch where
you're steppin', wolf.

Gee, that's the first time
anybody ever beat wolf...

Except in an IQ test.

Nobody's ever beaten me before.

Except in an IQ test.

Grrr...

We're gonna make
you boys angels.

Angels? They're gonna k*ll us.

No, you oil pans.

We're gonna make
you smell's angels.

Wow! We're gonna
be bikers, Timon.

Awooooo!

Hey, gummy, toss
me one of them sodas.

Hey, gummy, toss
me two of them sodas.

Beef, you're a riot!

This is ridiculous, Pumbaa.

I mean, they call you beef,
and we both know you're pork.

It's a nickname, Timon.

It adds to my image.

Image is very
important to bikers.

Really?

Then explain why
they call me toothpick.

Try to enjoy it, Timon...

I mean, toothpick.

Look! A swarm of big,
crunchy June bugs.

Oh... alright.

This couldn't get any worse.

Pumbaa, wake up. This
is our chance to get away.

What do you mean,
toothpick? I like being a biker.

It's been a swell life experience,
and I'm glad you like it, but I don't.

Lets' go.

You want me to leave my hog,
ignore the call of the open road?

I can't, toothpick.

I like biking, and
I'm not quitting.

Fine.

Fine.

Toothpick, huh? Nyeah...

Aah!

You dented my baby!

Ooh...

Toothpick, we are
no longer simpatico.

Okay by me. And stop
calling me toothpick.

Aha!

Pumbaa! Pumbaa!

Hakuna matata, old pal.

Pumbaa?

Oh, poor kitty.
Let's take him in.

Yeah. How 'bout some milk?

Bleahh... ugh...

Oops. Is kitty
lactose intolerant?

You're not the only one, puss.

Time to hit the road, kitty.

We're on our way
to the flower expo.

- Hello, Timon.
- Hello, Pumbaa.

How is the open road?

Keeps the motor running.

So you've made new friends?

Huh? Oh, yeah.

They're a barrel of chuckles.
I never been happier.

Oh...

Uh, Pumbaa...

Yes, Timon?

Come on, kitty.

Oh, it's my new nickname.

Well, guess I gotta go.

Oh, my stars,
we're awfully sorry.

Sorry don't cut it, lady.

How rude!

Wanna make somethin' of it?

Look here, Sonny,

I'm gonna introduce
you to the world of ouch.

Hey, everybody just calm down.

Outta the way, toothpick.

Uh, no, wolf. His
name is kitty now.

Outta the way, kitty.

Don't you touch him.

Beef, whose side
is you on, anyway?

Wolf, I may have
joined your club,

but I'll always be his hog.

Get inside before our hair runs!

Oh, and me with a fresh rinse.

Gangway, girls.

Oh, no. We just
polished our bikes.

Doh!

You know, being a
biker is fun, Timon,

but not as much fun as
hanging out with you...

Being simpatico.

Thanks, buddy.

But you know, I might want to go
ride a motorcycle again someday.

Hey, we should respect
each other's needs.

It's okay if there are
things you like that I don't...

And vicey-versey.

Yeah. We won't let that
come between us again,

right, old pal?

Right.

That's good, Timon, because next
I was thinking of taking up yodeling.

♪ Yodel-ay-Dee whooo! ♪

I love those funny little pants.

♪ Yodel-ay-Dee whooo! ♪

I hope it won't bother you.

♪ Yodel-ay-Dee whooo! ♪

Of course, it won't.

♪ Yodel-ay-Dee whooo! ♪

♪ Yodel-ay-Dee whooo! ♪

Oh, if I don't find
some bugs soon...

Oh, boy!

That sounds like beetles flying
in for a concert in my tummy.

Or maybe a tasty locust invasion
coming to destroy the jungle.

Wouldn't that be fun?

What'cha doin', Timon?

Hiya, Pumbaa.

A few of the guys are comin'
over for a friendly game of poker.

Oh, boy. Can I play?

Got any bugs?

Uh... no.

Well, you need bugs
to bet with in this game.

That's the first
rule of jungle poker.

The second rule is,
you gotta know the rules.

Rules?

That's right.

Poker is played strictly by the rules.
A royal flush beats a straight flush.

Straight flush beats 4 of a kind.


Full house beats a flush.
Flush beats a straight.

Straight beats 3 of
a kind, and so on.

But the most important rule
of all is, a bet is a bet. Got it?

Uh-huh.

Well, I never played before.

Could you show me how?

Alright. Just a hand or two.

Ooh, I think I'd like to bet...

Don't think, Pumbaa.
Just follow the rules.

The player to the left of
the dealer always bets first.

But I'm also to the
right of the dealer.

Bet.

I'll bet that my cards
are prettier than yours.

"Pretty" is not in the rules.

Well, I think it should be.

Look... they're all the
same color and shapes,

and the royal family is
all together for a change...

I told you, don't think!

Look, you don't know the rules,
so you'd slow down the game.

Besides, you don't
have any bugs to bet,

so... you understand.

We play strictly by the rules.

A card laid is a card
played, a bet is a bet

and no looking at other
players' cards, stretch.

Alright, fellas,
the game is poker.

Timon, I found a bug. Hit me.

You don't know how
I'd love to, Pumbaa

but this is poker, not Blackjack,
and that bug isn't enough for an ante.

Ants? You didn't say
they had to be ants.

Pumbaa, just sit
and watch, will ya?

Playing when you don't
understand the rules is foolish.

Oh, well, okay. I wouldn't
want to look foolish.

I'm going to watch until I
completely understand the rules.

Deal me in, too.

I heard about this game and brought
me a sack of boll weevils to bet.

Well, if there's an empty seat
and you got the bugs to buy in,

the rules say you're
in the game, pal.

Hey, no bettin' live crickets.
They keep hoppin' off the table.

Crickets?

That's a mighty
fine pig ya got there.

Oh, yeah. One of a kind.

I can beat that.

I like hearts.

I think they should be
worth more than clubs.

Or maybe diamonds. Ooh,
they should be worth more.

After all, diamonds
are very expensive,

and I think...

Pumbaa, stop thinkin', will ya?

Well... alright.

Awwk, I'm done.

Good cards are an
endangered species in this game.

Hey, the night's still young.

I'll see your 2 termites and
raise you 20 boll weevils.

And I'll raise you 20 back.

I'll raise ya 50 more.

Are you sure you know
what you're doing, Timon?

No problemo, my
portly compatriot.

You see, I have
the winning hand.

I'll see your 50 and
raise you all I have.

Uh-huh.

Then I'll just have to raise
you more than you have.

Uh, I don't think
you can do that.

Now, now, Timon,
you said don't think.

"If nobody declares
it's table stakes,

then he can bet all he wants."

It's in the rules.

I, uh, I don't have
any more bugs to bet.

How 'bout this fine pig?

He's worth every
bit of what you owe.

Why, thank you. You're
a fine judge of pork.

Uh, look, pal, you're
my best friend, right?

Why, of course, Timon.

I'd do anything for you.

Good, 'cause I
gotta call that bet.

This is a once in
a lifetime chance.

You do understand, don't you?

I mean, I can't lose.

Is it a bet...

Or are you folding like
a cheap deck chair?

It's a bet.

What'cha got...
besides a hairball?

Kings... four of 'em.

Ouch. That hurts...

For you.

Read 'em and weep, kitty boy.

Four aces.

Come on, pig.

You belong to farmer Joe now.

D-Did you say f-farmer Joe?

Yup. That'd be me.

As in "farmer Joe's smoked
meats and pork sausage"?

The same.

Smoked ham is my specialty.

It's an honor, farmer Joe.

Wait!

Pumbaa, you can't go with him.

He won me fair
and square, Timon.

A bet is a bet. Remember?

You said it's the most
important rule of all.

The pig's right.

Now, if you'll excuse me,

I have ham and
sausage orders to fill.

Wait!

Wait!

Wait, wait...

Come on, Pumbaa,
we're gettin' outta here.

No can do, Timon.

I'm farmer Joe's pig now.

Rules are rules.

Rules are for mooks, Pumbaa.

That's not what you said this
morning. You said rules are important.

In a beauty contest, if
you don't follow the rules,

they take away your crown.

I sure don't want that.

At the risk of overstating
the obvious, Pumbaa,

this isn't a beauty contest!

Oh! I won miss congeniality.

In hockey, if you
don't play by the rules,

you get put in the penalty box.

I sure don't want that.

This isn't a game, Pumbaa.

Farmer Joe wants to
turn you into pimento loaf.

Now, you listen to me... yaaah!

You can't do this, ya
mook. Ya gotta run away.

Nope. That would
be against the rules.

A bet is a bet, Timon.

Period. End of discussion.

Once you go through
those doors, all bets are off!

For goodness sake,
Pumbaa, think for yourself!

But you told me not to think.

You told me stick to the rules.

Forget the rules.
Forget the rules!

Forget the stupid rules!

Oh, look, I got an "a."

Pumbaa... Pumbaa... Pumbaa...

Can't wait for that farmer
Joe smoked ham. Yum yum...

Mm. A little tough...

But a very generous portion.

Pumbaa... Pumbaa... Pumbaa!

Pumbaa?

Pumbaa! You're alright!

You didn't get smoked,
sliced, and shrink-wrapped.

Nope. I thought
for myself, Timon.

Just like you said.

Exactly, you lovable
bucket of lard.

It took a while
for me to see it.

No kidding.

But, I finally came
to my senses.

Well, I think we should go
find some nice unsmoked,

unsauced, unshrink-wrapped bugs.

You said a mouthful, Timon.

I hope so, old pal. I hope so.