01x05 - Big Trouble at the Earth's Core/A Glitch in Time

[bunniefuu]

[Screaming]

[Screaming]

♪

[Gasping]

[Throat clearing]

[Liquid spraying]

[Screaming]

[Screaming]

[Screaming]

Pretty creepy so far.

Wow, this sort of material

should carry a stern warning

label.

[Police siren wailing]

♪ Sam and Max

♪ Sam and Max

[Phone ringing]

♪ Sam and Max

♪

♪ Sam and Max

♪ Freelance police

♪ Sam and Max

♪ Freelance police

SAM: Here’s what we’ve got to

go on: it’s an unidentifiable

life form offensive in both

appearance and smell, and it’s

been at the back of the fridge

since we moved in.

It’s either some kind of

spreadable meat by-product or

nesting hamsters.

It is furbearing, and that’s

what throws you.

[Glass smashing]

[Tires screeching]

It’s a coded message from the

commissioner, Max.

What does it say?

Duck?

[Rimshot playing]

It says there’s big trouble

at the Earth’s core.

We’ve got to seek out the hub of

Mother Earth and see what’s

troubling the old gal.

Then onward to the Earth’s

warm gooey centre.

To the lab!

And as even more sightings of

these unidentified humanoids

spring up we urge all of you to

stay in your homes.

MAX: We said it before and

we’ll say it again--

BOTH: Geek, you’re a genius.

Who’d have thought the

inner workings of a salad

spinner could be modified to

drill through 60 miles of solid

bedrock?

It bears out the little

known scientific fact that if

you spin something fast enough--

Even our spongy living

heads--

It can bore through just

about anything.

You’re going to spinning at



So please remain seated until

the ride comes to a complete

stop.

BOTH: Centre of the Earth,

here we come.

[Screaming]

[Clock ticking]

[Screaming]

[Screaming]

Wowee, the world truly is a

carousel of colour.

There’s drama and mirth in

old Mother Earth.

And all of her secretions you

see.

So this is the Earth’s core,

huh?

It’s not so hot.

Speak for yourself, little

buddy.

My hatband is workin’ overtime.

Holy jumpin’ weasel fritters on

a hot crossed bun!

Look at that!

Do you realize what this means?

No, but let me guess!

[Buzzing]

The Earth is going to superheat

and explode thereby reducing

everyone and everything to an

imperceptible haze of drifting

atomic particles.

That’s right!

And that alone is motivation

enough for us to go willy nilly

with the controls.

We’ve gotta cool this puppy

down.

[Groaning]

Lookie there, Max.

It’s a horde of murderous inner

dwellers.

When there are 5 or more,

the correct term is a clot.

Huh.

Oh.

♪ Oh-we-oh, ohhh-oh

♪ Oh-we-oh, ohhh-oh

♪ Oh-we-oh, ohhh-oh

Welcome, surface dwellers.

I am Dr.Morag.

Family practitioner?

What luck!

I was hoping to have this big

mole removed.

DR.MORAG: We are the Mole

Men: a simple race who, until

recently, have lived content in

our duties to maintain the core

temperature of the planet

and then came 500 channels of

glorious, round the clock,

nonstop broadcasting.

[Mole Men cheering]

And with it, the seeds of

discontent.

That explains their pasty

complexions and bad posture.

Yours too.

DR.MORAG: Our squinty eyes

were opened to the wonders of

your lively surface world.

From that day forth the dye was

cast.

No longer will we remain

prisoners of the dark for

tonight is the night of our

rebirth.

Tonight we embark on a mass

exodus to the surface world in

order to abandon this life of

blind subterraneanism, to see

the world and, yes, day!

I don’t recall asking for

this guy’s life story.

Do you Sam?

In order to better prepare

ourselves for social integration

once a week, on Saturday night,

a party of happening Mole Men

would partake in a fact

gathering field trip to the

surface.

Our height and facial

deficiencies could be somewhat

overlooked by your people but it

was our hands, ghastly

shovel-like claws to you, that

proved to be our undoing.

Hi, I’m Candy.

Hello, Candy.

I’m Morag.

[Psycho theme playing]

[Screaming]

SAM: Tough break there,

Morag.

Maybe you shouldn’t set your

sights so high.

Try hitting it off with a member

of the rodent family first.

A solid relationship with a

groundhog could be very

rewarding.

These talons: how I hate

them.

They would forever prevent us

from obtaining true happiness

until now.

With these lifelike synthetic

hands we can venture into the

surface world with confidence.

Nice hands.

If you’re a fielder for the

Cubs.

Say, there’s a confident

grip.

DR.MORAG: Thanks to your

throw away society and their

habit of burying everything in

sight we have mountains of

plastic.

And with a boundless supply of

energy from the Earth’s core we

will soon have a pair of new

hands for each and every Mole

Man.

GEEK: Calling Sam and Max.

Come in, Sam and Max.

It’s an urgent communication

from the Geek.

Put it on the big screen.

Distinguished Mole Men, the

core temperature of our planet

has climbed to cataclysmic

levels.

Unless you abandon this

reckless coarse of action it

will reach critical mass within



the force of 1 000 Suns.

Morag, as a fellow person of

science, I implore you: stop

this madness, now, before it’s

too late.

No!

We’ve come too far to stop now.

We’re so close to the

realization of our dream.

And the big singles mixer is

tonight.

[Crowd aahing and whistling]

But Doctor, listen to reason!

I have nothing further to say

to you--

Except that I’ll be in town

tonight if you want to get

together.

Uh, gee, I, uh, was, uh,

planning on washing my hair

tonight.

I think it’s high time we

threw the proverbial wrench into

the works.

Don’t you, Max?

I’ll say.

Now I can finally ditch this

thing.

Max, I didn’t know you were a

marsupial.

Me neither, whatever that is.

[IN SLOW MOTION]: Nooo!

[Screaming]

[Screaming]

[Screaming]

Our one chance at happiness

is no more.

We are now forever doomed to a

life of loneliness and despair

thanks to you!

Aw, don’t thank us.

Just doing our job.

DR.MORAG: Seize them!

[Screaming]

Hm, obviously sparing the

planet cuts us no slack at all.

Let’s mull that over during a

tense but invigorating fight

sequence.

BOTH: Huzzah!

[Screaming]

Oh!

[Sniffing]

[Screaming]

Four!

No prisoners!

Into the core with them!

You wouldn’t have anything

tucked away for putting smoking

holes in things would ya?

Just minty toothpicks.

Then I guess this is the end.

Look, something there!

[Gasping]

[Sniffing]

It’s Mole Women!

Well, what do you know.

New neighbours!

Isn’t that nice.

It’s just like when the boy

campers discovered the girl

campers on Camp Runamuck only

miles beneath the good earth.

All’s well that ends well,

Max.

The world is safe and the Mole

Men have found true happiness.

It’s a beautiful thing, Sam.

Let’s leave.

Yeah, I think they crave a

little privacy.

Actually, I’m deathly afraid

of seeing them kiss.

Ew!

They’re at it!

Let’s go!

Let’s go!

Fare thee well, tiny mole

folks.

[Sniffing]

What’s that smell?

Oh, Max!

♪

Well Sam, looks like we found

out what’s been causing all the

big trouble in the North

Atlantic.

Yeah, nothing says drama on

the high seas like a cheesed off

giant octopus defending its

turf.

It’s time we taught this ornery

critter its proper place in the

food chain, Max.

I like them deep fried with

lemon.

From heck’s heart I stab at

thee!

For Pete’s sake I spit my bad

breath at thee.

The drama’s done.

The seas are safe once again for

giant multinational fishing

fleets to cast their driftnets

with reckless abandon.

We return victorious; proud with

the scars of battle.

Ha ha, looks like I’m wearin’

polka dot jammies.

But sadly, that cheap, two-bit

octopunk nabbed my pocket watch.

Where exactly did you keep a

pocket watch, Max?

That watch had sentimental

value, Sam.

It had a secret compartment

where I kept all my favourite

toenail clippings.

Well, I know this can never

replace the one you lost but

here.

[Gasping]

It shines like the head of

Mr.Papadopolous.

Where did you get it?

It was an impulse purchase

from that friendly street

hawker.

It’s got all the bells and

whistles.

[Bells and whistles blasting]

Button A is for regular time, B

is for military time, C for your

blood pressure, A and B turn it

into a personal massager, A and

B plus C shows your IQ--

What happens if I press ’em

all?

Something altogether zany, I

bet.

Incredible.

The pedestrian special effects,

the hackneyed imagery; we’re

tumbling backwards through the

ages.

Oh, time travel!

That’s way better than a toenail

compartment.

Where and when the heck are

we?

According to my new watch

it’s-- oops.

Holy mother of pearl in a

sidecar goin’ 80!

We’ve rambled all the way back

to the dawn of time.

Careful Max, our slightest

movement might alter the course

of human history.

The simple act of swatting a fly

could change the Earth’s entire

timeline.

[Fly moaning]

Now we’ll see if all those

science fiction stories are

true.

[Watch beeping]

BOTH: Oof!

MAX: Creepy, huh?

SAM: The strange part is they

keep the city much cleaner.

I could do this all day.

♪

You know Sam, playing fast

and loose with destiny’s fun and

all, but all this time travel

reminds me of science class.

What if I’m learnin’ stuff?!

Yeah, ain’t it great?

The simple days of youth.

Hey, that reminds me there’s a

stop I want to make.

You shoulda thought of that

before we left, Sam.

Not that kind of stop,

dough-head.

Although I did sneak behind a

thirsty fern back in 2 million

B.C.

[Shuddering]

I shudder to think of the

repercussions that’s gonna have.

[Laughing]

It’s soft, marketable baby

versions of ourselves!

Look at me, Sammy!

I’m Daniel Boob!

[Screaming]

Ha ha.

You crack me up, Max.

This sure stirs up a few long

suppressed memories.

And explains all those sticky

nightmares I have about

possessed vermin headwear.

Well, well, if it isn’t Sam

and Maxie: freelance goobers.

SAM: It’s Mellon Hargraves.

MAX: Swaggery poster boy for

unchecked bullyism.

He delighted in rubbing your

fur the wrong way.

And stealing your lunch and

giving you pink bellies.

I can’t watch.

It’s so demeaning!

Pink bellies: I hated those.

To this day I hate those!

Curse you, Mellon Hargraves!

No, Sam, we dare not

interfere lest we alter our own

futures.

You’re right, Max.

Sorry.

[Screaming]

Hey, now he’s dressing you

like a girl.

Max?

Max?

Now remember, go for the soft

underbelly first.

Save the gristly bits for later.

Words of wisdom, gramps.

[Bell dinging]

[Screaming]

MELLON: Get him off!

Agh, get him off!

It hurts!

Shame on you, big Max.

What about all that yadda about

altering our futures?

Relax, I only passed on my

unsettling ability to unhinge my

lower jaw.

What could possibly--

happen.

Gee, I don’t remember checking

into the Y, do you Sam?

Sam?

Where are you Sam?

Say somethin’!

Gimme a sign.

SAM: Hello there, friend.

Phew, what a relief.

For a minute I thought somethin’

awful happened to you.

♪Well if your llama is all

loamy and your gibbon’s

gettin’ gritty♪

♪There’s no better place to go

to in this great big stinkin’

city♪

♪If there’s an eye burnin’

aroma waftin’ off your buffalo

Sam’s Discount Pet Wash is the

place you oughta go ♪

Sam’s Discount Pet Wash?

No!

Make it stop!

Mellon Hargraves!?

Now this may sting a bit.

[Screaming]

[Chains breaking]

[Sirens wailing]

What have I done!?

Everything’s changed.

Gotta find Sam.

♪ Well if your llama is all

loamy and your gibbon’s gettin’

gritty there’s no better-- ♪

Sam!

Welcome stranger.

Are you here for the special?

Sam, it’s me Max!

Don’t you know me?

We’re partners.

We grew up together.

Think back, man!

Hm, I do vaguely recall a

fuzzy bunny pal with whom I

wiled away the hazy halcyon days

of my youth.

Yeah, yeah!

SAM: Then one day something

happened.

I ate a bad headcheese sandwich

and wandered off in a

hallucinogenic daze.

I came to 15 years later in a

remote Tibetan monastery.

I had obtained higher

consciousness.

But still, I always felt there

was something missing--

besides shorts.

It was me!

Me!

I was missing.

But I’m back; here to save you

from this sorry existence.

I think you should leave now.

You’re scaring Patches.

[Phone ringing]

I got it!

I got it!

I guess I do got it.

Hello.

It’s for you.

Oh.

Sam’s Discount Pet Wash.

Yeah.

Yeah.

No.

He said that?

What did you say?

Well then what did he say?

No.

Was it the commissioner, Sam?

Who’s the commissioner?

It was my booking agent.

He says there’s bad trouble in

the North Atlantic.

Something about a rogue octopus

with a bad case of "ick".

A rogue octopus?

It’s déjà vu all over again.

Let’s roll.

Well, here we are: right back

where we started.

Must be how all these time

travel shows go.

Ring any bells?

This is what we do, Sam.

We’re the Freelance Police!

These are just liquorice,

right?

Feel free to jump in any

time, Sam.

Sorry, as a monk I was taught

to revere all life.

We are one with even the lowest

of creatures.

Even if it’s slapping you

silly while going for your

wallet?

[Poking]

The path of violence can

never lead to harmony.

Ow!

Now you’re just being

ridiculous.

What’s it gonna take to push

this guy’s buttons?

A pink belly!

He’s giving you a pink belly,

Sam!

Come on!

Have you no shame?

Pink bellies!

I hated those.

To this day I hate those.

Curse you, Mellon Hargraves!

[Screaming]

MAX: That’s it!

Sick ’em, boy!

It’s only Mellon if you believe

it!

Welcome to your destiny, Sam.

How do you feel?

Kind of dizzy but at last

I’ve found my true calling: the

rash and reckless life of a

freelance cop.

I’ve preened the ticks off my

last cat.

And I’m swearing off meddling

with the fabric of time.

Looks for all the world like

things are back to normal,

little pal.

Sending that giant octopus back

in time has restored the natural

order of things.

Or a reasonable facsimile.

Did I mention that you crack

me up, Max?

All the time, Sam.

[Screaming]

Now this may sting a bit.

[Screaming]

♪

Death from above!

Death from above!

Hi, kids.

How would you like to own your

very own lovable paper bag

Max-head hand puppet?

I’ve got one, as do all the

people I respect and admire.

I like it!

Here’s what to do.

Cut these shapes out of white

construction paper.

Then, glue them on to a paper

lunch bag in a face like

configuration.

SAM: Draw Max’s adorable

features and the inside of his

gaping maw on the bag.

If you feel ambitious you can

include everything Max may have

eaten in the last 24 hours.

MAX: Make a bunch and use ’em

to put on twisted puppet shows

for the neighbourhood kids which

will affect them later in life.

Use it to communicate ideas and

concepts to people of other

lands.

Max’s terrifying head is a

universal symbol of something or

other.

[Screaming]

Keep one in your first aid

kit and don’t forget to keep a

spare in the family car, okay?

Well, this has grown

tiresome.

Until next time kids, goodbye!

♪