04x08 - Seymourlama

[bunniefuu]

[theme music playing]

NARRATOR:
Man lives in the sunlit world

of what he believes
to be reality.

But... there is,

unseen by most, an underworld.

A place that is just as real

but not as brightly lit.

A dark side.

[wind whistling]

Oh, what a godforsaken night.

The whole world is swirling
with snow ghosts.

WOMAN:
Don't talk that way, Henry.

You know it gets me nervous.

lt's snowing. That's all.

Do you know what
this Pete Rose is worth, huh?

Would you believe people
are waterskiing in Acapulco?

Don't believe everything
you read.

Do you think God gets involved

in which people
get to own white yachts?

[wind whistling]

Listen to that.

Are those voices from hell
or are those voices from hell?

[Henry laughs]

lt's only the wind.

Wind is wind.

Where's Seymour?

[grunts ''l don't know'']

Seymour!

Why are you yelling?

lt's Saturday night!

When l was your age,

that was prime hunting time!

[chuckles]

You wouldn't catch
Henry Strand home

on a Saturday night,
no, sirree, Bob.

Oh, this rooster was out
there crowing.

c*ck-a-doodle-doo!
[laughs]

Leave Seymour alone.

Why does he have to knit?

Why do you collect pictures

of people in dumb uniforms
holding bats?

Seymour has homework to do.

Why doesn't he do it
in his own room?

Well, this is as much
Seymour's room as anybody's.

l need a quiet house
to concentrate, Dad.

Remind me to check
his birth certificate.

Those aren't my genes talking.

What a nasty thing to say
about your only son.

Now, didn't he knit you
that lovely sweater?

lt's warm. l'm cold.

-[Henry groans]
-Oh, now calm down, Henry.

You're always this way
between the football

and baseball seasons.

-l'm going to walk the dog.
-The dog is dead.

lt died last month.

Oh, Lord. l actually forgot.

[wind whistling]

My poor dog.

SEYMOUR:
Our poor dog.

The dog was community property.

Maybe we should get a new dog.

[scoffs]
Dog dies, get a new dog.

[snaps fingers]
Just like that! Hmph!

SEYMOUR:
lf you ask me,

l think it committed suicide.

That dog led a marvelous life!

Oh, of course it did.

Seymour is only joking.

l'm surprised
it didn't leave a note.

Now, Seymour, stop baiting
your father like that.

He only wants
what is best for us.

[wind whistling]

Ooh, that wind does sound nasty.

Are you expecting a delivery?

Yes, a Trim Track
exercise machine.

HENRY:
l see something out there.

Or somebody.

SEYMOUR:
lf they're kicking in unison,

it's probably the Radio City
Music Hall Rockettes.

WOMAN:
Hello?

Don't tell me
you didn't hear that.

-Hear what?
-Listen.

[wind whistling]

There is something.

[knocking on door]

l've heard about this.

They say their car broke down

and they want
to use the phone.

Then you let them in
and then they m*rder you!

-[knocking on door]
-Henry, call the police.

And tell them what?
Somebody's knocking on our door?

Well, what are we going to do?

Well, we just can't
leave people

out in the subzero cold.

[shushing]

lf we're quiet,
maybe they'll go away.

Unless they can smell warm blood
through aluminum siding.

l'll see who it is.

Use your strong voice.

[deep voice]:
Who's out there?

WOMAN:
Open, please.

lt's a woman.

They use women for bait.

l'll keep the chain on.

Yes?

[Henry yelps]

My floor-- l just had it waxed.

Thousands of pardons, but snow
on the floor is good luck.

Look, if you two have come here
to sell us something...

[chuckles] well, l can tell you
right now, we're not buying.

l assure you, we sell nothing.

l suppose we should have called
before dropping in,

but we were so eager to...

Called? Why?

What a lovely room!

Oh! Well... thank you
ever so much.

And a fortunate house to have
such a charming mistress.

Aw...

Would you like a cup of tea?

Tea?!

Of course,
the mandatory cup of tea.

Now, where is the one
with the look

of a thousand vacant meadows?

You mean Seymour?

Uh, he was here a minute ago.
Seymour!

SEYMOUR:
What?

Come down here.

We have company.
lt's not polite.

MAN [gasps]:
The child!

[gong sounds]

Who put you up to this?

What an oversight.

Allow me to introduce myself.

l am Chai Fung,
ambassador without portfolio,

from the ancient kingdom
of Lo Poa.

This is my associate,

our minister of the interior,
Madame Wu.

Wu.

FUNG:
She is overwrought.

We spent last night
at the Holiday lnn.

lt was so hot,
we had to open the windows,

but the windows don't open.

There was glass everywhere.

Uh, l'm Henry Strand.

This is my wife Ellen.

And, uh, you seem
to know Seymour.

Only by visions.

l'll get that
mandatory cup of tea.

-Uh...
-Enough of the amenities.

Time for business.

We want your son.

You want what?

We must have the boy.

[kissing continues]

Stop it, you two!

Do you mind if l sit?

Does this throne
vibrate joyously

upon the insertion of a quarter?

What? Oh, sorry, no, no.

No matter.

The truest vibrations
of pleasure come from the heart.

Oh, what a nice way to put it.

On the other hand,

the vibrations that can come
from a coin can be...

SEYMOUR:
Awesome!

The lad is quick-- very witty.

HENRY:
What you said just now

about, uh, wanting our son...

ELLEN:
There must be some mistake.

Nobody wants Seymour.

Ma!

l mean, he's a late bloomer.

Like his father.

But he knits beautifully.

What do you want him for?

Somebody need a transplant?

[laughter]

Dad!

Nothing like the warmth
of a close-knit family,

if l may venture a pun.

But enough humor.

As you may know, last month,
our supreme lama,

Hsi Shu'sha went to his reward

when the Moon touched the tip
of the sacred mountain.

He was in his hundredth year,
give or take.

Oh, l'm so sorry.

ln the Year of the Frog,

which is the 12,000th
anniversary of our country,

the great Hsi Shu'sha nodded off
into infinite slumber.

Those of us who remained

were called upon to follow
the sacred rites

to search for his successor.

We read the stars,

consulted our books
of parchment,

drank the pollen of the daisies
that grow sideways

and remained pleasantly dizzy

for many weeks.

The Moon, the birds,

all earthly music
pointed us here

to this endless
prairie of houses

whose levels are split,

and, finally, to this house--

the home of our revered
and holy new lama.

[gong sounds]

Seymour?!

[guffawing]

Seymourlama?!

[Henry continues laughing]

[Henry shudders]

Sir, if you laugh,

l will be forced,
by tradition,

to eviscerate you and feed
your entrails to a mongoose.

Wh-Who-Who's laughing?

And now, for the presentation
of gifts.

-ELLEN: Gifts?
-[gong sounds]

Madame Wu.

[Fung speaks native language]

Carried across the continents,

priceless treasures
from our country

for the fortunate parents
of the Chosen One.

ELLEN:
Oh, l love surprises.

FUNG: Yak droppings
from the privileged yaks

who graze on the north slope
of the glorious mountain.

lt's not Everest,
but we like it.

You... really didn't have to.

Our next gift.

The final breath
of our former lama,

zipped and saved

-[bag pops open]
-especially for this occasion.

Seals in freshness.

l knew you'd like it.

Rice from the first crop

following Hsi Shu'sha's
journey to the stars.

Holy book?

Recipes for the rice.

And now, for the anticlimax.

[lid creaks open]

Are these real?

l assure you, they are.

HENRY:
Diamonds.

Amethysts. Pearls.

FUNG:
Mere tokens.

Hints of things to come.

-Huh?
-At our lama's coronation,

we go the whole way.

Naturally, you and your husband
will be our honored guests.

Lo Poa will be yours.

Lo Poa.

You know,
we had that in Geography.

lt's near Tibet.

Nothing like Tibet.

They're Reformed.
We are Orthodox.

Mr. Fung?

Do you honestly think

that we would trade our only son
for a few trinkets?

Condemn him to an austere life
of snow and ice?

A life without... culture?

No, l don't think so.

FUNG:
As progenitors of our lama--

the source of the source,
if you will--

you and your mate will be
dressed in silk and satin,

bathed in the purest yak milk,

given your weight
in precious stones,

entitled to a ten percent
discount at the bazaars.

[Seymour clears throat,
laughs anxiously]

Uh, what about me?

You?

You, Seymour, will be hailed
as our heavenly leader.

Your every need will be
anticipated and gratified.

Your every utterance will be
inscribed by virgin scribes.

Virgin scribes?

And of course,
you will have the honor

of eating the bark
of a sacred bung tree

and regurgitating
into the crater

of our world-class volcano.

Whoa, wait a second.
Look, uh...

You can just forget it, okay?

HENRY: Uh, uh, Seymour makes
impulsive decisions.

-He's just a kid.
-FUNG: Of course.

Madame Wu, time for the Dance
of the Stubborn Adolescent.

[Fung speaks native language]
...go, run.

Our weight in jewels!

Silk, satins, yak baths...

Discounts at bazaars.

Oh... l don't know if it's
the right thing for Seymour.

SEYMOUR:
Do you want to go upstairs

and check out
my Beatles records?

Do you think
he should be alone with...

Sign here

and make your son
the next lama of Lo Poa.

-[Seymour laughs in distance]
-Henry, Seymour isn't ready

for a serious relationship.

l really don't think...

-[Madame Wu laughing]
-Think of a deep, dark,

''Lo Pee'' mountain tan.

Sign here, Mrs. Strand.

Now, come on, Seymour.
Act your age!

[Madame Wu moans
passionately]

[gong sounds]

HENRY:
Way to go, tiger!

And you said the hospital
must've switched babies.

-HENRY: Ellen...
-ELLEN [muffled]: Yeah?

l told you he had strong genes.

FUNG:
Now, splendid Seymourlama,

we must discuss
your sacred duties.

You will fly first class
on Lo Poa Airlines

to the capital city of Platt
for seven glorious days

and six unforgettable nights
of coronation excitement.

A multitude of handmaidens
will carry you

to the flaming crater
of Mount Kong.

[glass shatters]

Look, could we skip
the spiritual stuff?

You were lucky enough
to find me.

Who needs a coronation?

lt's for your people,
Your Generosity.

They don't get
much entertainment.

[sighs]

Seymourlama desires a Twinkie.

[wind whistling]

[door opens]

You don't get something
for nothing in this world.

No even in ''La Pee.''

Ah, words of wisdom

from the person
who claims to be my father.

Unfortunately,
l have papers to prove it.

You're being obnoxious.

l have the right
to be obnoxious.

Actually, he is correct.

lt goes with the territory.

l'm feeling
a little tension.

Listen, l'll do the coronation
routine under one condition.

Name it, oh, Brilliant Light
in the Dismal Forest.

l want the palace of ''Ly Poa''
wired for sound and cable.

-Wired? What is...?
-Stereo.

Quad sound. Television.

FUNG:
But, Seymourlama, our mountains

have the best acoustics
in the Himalayas.

And we do not watch television.

We watch the seasons
go into repeats.

Are you arguing with me?

Would l dare?

Okay, it's settled.

l'll go to the big party.

Thank you, thank you.

-[cracking]
-Ow! Easy! That hurt!

MADAME WU:
Oh!

What is she doing?

Punishing the hand that damaged
the inspired one.

Whoa, whoa!
Look... Look, just stop her,

because she's going to get
blood all over my wool.

[Fung speaks native language]

[Wu wails]

She must atone in some way.

Heh. Good.

You see those baseball cards?

Find Willie Mays.

And eat it.

But that...
that's one of my favorite.

l'm beginning to enjoy this.

FUNG:
And it does our hearts good

to see you in ecstasy, master.

Uh, take a proclamation.

Plug up the volcano.

Do what?!

[chuckles]

And, uh, before you cap
the volcano,

one final sacrifice.

[gong sounds]

No.

Not your own father.

SEYMOUR:
Not him--

his baseball cards.

Every last one of them.

Zap.

[gasps]

Henry can't live
without his collection.

Aw.

l'm afraid all requests made
by our leader are final.

Well, l'm a leader's mother and
l'm telling him to back off.

You were my mother.
No more.

Did you people ever consider
democracy?

Not until we met him.

Oh, forgive my entrails.
What am l saying.

Make me a lap.

[sighs]

He looks so peaceful.

Rest well, noble thing.

l had better call home
and tell the prime minister

we have found our new lama.

We could still make
the 11 :00 news.

l, uh, assume
you're calling Lo Poa.

Of course-- collect.

Talk about long distance.

Operator, sincere greetings.

l would like the area code
for Lo Poa.

No, it isn't a suburb.

East.

Further. More.

That's it.

Now, l would like to make
a person-to-person call

to the exalted Pahn Dak.

Collect?

FUNG:
Collect.

This number--



The name of Henry Strand.



Excuse me.

-254 Daffodil Lane.
-Ah.

Excuse me. 254 Daffodil...

Never mind.

Excuse me, Mother of Greatness,

but isn't this


l ought to know where l live.



[speaks native language]

No 55, 54.

Oh, sh**t.

l... l don't know how
to tell you this.

l hope it's not
an inconvenience.

Tell us what?

Hey, hey, wrong house.

MADAME WU:
Oops.

[stammering]

But l-l have a parchment.

A contract.
l know my rights.

FUNG:
l'm very sorry.

-Wait...
-No.

Please, please...

No, you-you, what...?

That's our material!

[Henry and Ellen
stammering anxiously]

We spent two years
looking for sizes!

HENRY:
We can work something out!

Good night. Thank you
for seeing us to the door.

[wind whistling]

[Seymour yawning]

Seymourlama's waking from his
restful, refreshing sleep.

Seymour's hungry.

Seymourlama desires
a hamburger,

fries, onion rings, ketchup.

[claps hands]
Now!

Get me my food!

Bring me my... whoa.

Get-Get me my...

ELLEN:
ls his insurance paid up?

HENRY: He's got two, three weeks
of intensive care.

NARRATOR:
The dark side is always there.

Waiting for us to enter.

Waiting to enter us.

Until next time,
try to enjoy the daylight.