01x03 - My Fair Brainy!/The Cat Who Cried Woof!

[bunniefuu]

G Brain, what do you want to do today?The

same thing we do every day, Pinky.

Endure Elmira, then try to take over the

world. The

situation's changed for Pinky and the

brain. No laboratory

alone in the rain, and someone's

looking round for where they might be

found. It's Pinky or Pinky and the

Brain Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain,

Brain, Brain, Brain.

Trapped inside a store, a girl ran in the

door. She bought a discount turtle

but ended up with more. Now Pinky

and the Brain share a new domain.

It's what the network wants. They bother

to complain. The earth remains a goal.

Some things they can't control. They're

pinky, Elmira and the brain, brain.

I deeply present this. Trolls.

Mousies.

We love the tell and shabby

babies. Cougal and

Cookie Snout are fun. They

have big tummies and fur like great fat

bunnies. It's tell that your big happy

time. I

would give half my intelligence for some

peace and quiet. Turn off that dribble

and put on the news. Cookie big head

loves to turn the chubby. That's Cougal

and that's Cookie Snout.

Elmira, isn't it time for you to kiss

Mr. Shellbutt?Poor

Mr. Shellbutt Turtleface. He's had

no hug-ems and kiss-ems.

Pinky, these are the blueprints for Banco

Sat, a new satellite through which all

the world's electronic financial

transactions will be routed. It is being

sent up by NASA on the next space

shuttle. Oh, I see. We're back to that

now, are we?You used to be a hindrance.

Now you're a hindrance with an attitude.

Fine. I'll just forget anything that

enriches my life and help you out.

Don't you see?I can reprogram Banco Sat

to divert all the money in the world into

an account in my name if I can get aboard

that shuttle. Brilliant, as usual. Once I

have all the money, I'll buy you your own

Teletubby. OK, when do we start?At once.

I must devise a scheme to gain access to

the space shuttle. We now go live to NASA

spokesman Lloyd Oldtire. We're very

pleased to announce that the next space

shuttle crew will include a juggler, a

swimsuit model, and a monkey who plays a

fiddle. We're also searching for an

astrotot, the first child to go into

space. This child must have a good

general knowledge of the solar system.

More importantly, the youngster must be

very cute and perky because it looks

nicer in publicity shots. So no ugly

kids, OK?A child on the.

Space shuttle. Pinky, are you pondering

what I'm pondering?I think so, Brain. But

even if we found a tuxedo to fit a

blowfish, who would marry it?I feared the

nation's idiocy supply was growing low,

but you continue to mine rich new

deposits, Pinky. We shall use the oaf

to get us aboard the space shuttle. Eee,

brilliant, Brain. Oh, wait, isn't

she a bit unsmart for all of this?

The pot calling the kettle black. She can

be coached, my friend, instructed like a

parrot. Pinky, we'll need educational

videos, models, textbooks, a chalkboard,

and some good old-fashioned flashcards.

Any questions?Just one brain. How do they

get the snow to fall when you shake up

those little souvenir globes?Oh, look, a

penny. Oh, that was

liberating. Elmira, would you like to go

on the space shuttle to be part of a

grand adventure, to boldly go where no

loud little girl has gone before?

Nope-y-dope. You'll get to meet a monkey

who plays the fiddle. A furry monkey,

monkey.

Thus, the first battle is won.

Tell me, Elmira, which planet is closest

to the sun?Jacket Pie. Her

knowledge of science is equal to that of

a pistachio. I'm afraid I've gravely

underestimated her dimness. Some of us

knew that all along. Perhaps I'll just go

check on the Teletubbies. You're in this,

too. Getting Elmira aboard that shuttle

could well be a greater feat than taking

over the world. You'd have to be a

miracle worker. Uh, but what a

challenge. Elmira's intelligence is so

deliciously low, so horribly

puny. I'll do it. I'll make a

scientific genius of this draggle-tailed

guttersnipe. We shall begin

your education at once. And if you want

to meet the fiddle-playing monkey, you'll

be good and do as you're told. Yes,

Brandy, big head, 'cause...

All I want is an ape to squeeze

'Til his breath is just a

wheeze We'd go for walks in

trees Yes, that would be okay

Okay Lots of nannas for

him to eat Monkey hands look like

monkey feet He'd be my

chimp so sweet Oh, yes, that

wouldbe okay.

OkayOkayOkay

Let's see where to begin. Ah, yes,

Uranus is gaseous.

Naughty, mousy, big head. Mustn't use

naughty, naughty, dirty words.

Perhaps a more technical approach is

needed. By connecting Elmira to this

computer, I can instantaneously

download scientific information to her

brain. E Gad, will we be able to play

Dungeon Raider on her head?No,

we won't. Oh, well,

point. Let the learning begin.

You see, Pinky, she's writing down key

facts about the solar system. Well, it's

just like Kurt Russell and a computer

wore tennis shoes.

What?I drew Brainy Big

Head. Kiss yourself. Kiss,

kiss, kiss, kiss.

Ohh It can't be. No one's

stupidity is that boundless. Incredible.

She's dragged the computer down to her

level. Computey wooty. That's

cute. Be quiet, or I'll cudgel you.

Pinky, why can't Elmira be

more like a mouse?As that rain?Why can't

Elmira be more like a mouse?

Why won't she reason?Why doesn't she plan?

Perpetually mindless, as thick as a

ham?A mouse must think to earn his daily

grain. Why can't Elmira be

more like the brain?Yes!

She'll try positive reinforcement.

Elmira?I'm going to ask you a series of

questions about the solar system. If you

answer correctly, Pinky will make a

humorous face to amuse and delight you.

You silly big-nose mousey.

Now, now, Mira, which planet has

rings?Tacky Pie. No, you

lout. The answer is Saturn. How many

times do I have to tell you?You silly,

cranky big head. Are you

all right, Brain?Particles of white

material with a slight negative buoyancy

relative to the water in which they are

suspended. How's that?Those souvenir

globes. That's how they get the snow to

fall in them. Oh. Well, thanks, Brain.

You're welcome.

Mercury is closest to the sun. Repeat.

Chocolate pie. Mars is red

and has two tiny moons.

Chocolate pie. Not only has

Elmira learned nothing, but I'm beginning

to crave chocolate pie. This task is

impossible. It simply can't be done. Save

brain. you know, if you put these planet

cards in the right order, they sort of

rhyme. What is your point?Listen to this.

Mercury is closest to the Sun.

Mercury is closest to the Sun.

Once again?Mercury is

closest to the Sun. I think she has it.

I think she has it. Jupiter is

mostly hydrogen. By heaven, she has

it. Which world is hidden by mist?

Venus! Venus! And which

is the planet of our birth?The Earth! The

Earth! Mars is

red and has two tiny moons. Phobos

and Deimos. Uranus is gaseous, just

like Neptune. Which

world has rings that turn?Saturn!

Saturn!And the farthest world we

know?Pluto. Pluto.

America's best wishes are with Elmira,

the brave little astrotot, as she boards

the shuttle. I wonder, Lloyd, why NASA

chose a youngster whose response to all

science questions was chocolate pie.

Well, Marie, that cute little planet song

carried an awful lot of weight with our

judges. Monkey, monkey, monkey.

It's funny, Brain. Not long ago you were

wishing for peace and quiet. Now Elmont

is going away and you're going with her.

She'll be up in space for two whole

weeks. You could just sit around and

think big thoughts and not wear dull

dresses, but then you'd have to give up

your plan to take over the world. Oh

well, such is life.

Where's a fiddle monkey?

Elmira loves a fiddle monkey. Does

a monkey wonky love Elmira?They

had big tummies and fell like great fat

bunnies. It's tell a chubby happy time.

Enjoy yourself, Pinky. We must rest up

for tomorrow. What we going to do

tomorrow, Brian?The same thing we did

today, Pinky. Nothing.

That cat hates us,

Mr. Pixie. Stop calling me Mr.

Pixie. This isn't funny. It's sick.

Playing cartoon Moses is fun.

Now's our chance to escape this Tex Avery

nightmare, Pinky. Let's make a run for

that window. Vroom.

Ew. Real mousies don't

squish all flat and pretty like in the

cartoons. I keep telling you, this

isn't a cartoon. We're real. Oh,

brain. Don't be a party, pooper. Lord,

now you can cut us up into little cubes

and watch the pieces all go back together

again. Oh, yeah.

No, wait. Why don't you do a really

funny cartoony gag and just put us

outside and ignore us?

Imagine. That's not funny.

You're just not down with the cartoon

homie's brain. But you could throw us

through the wall and see if we leave

cutouts in the shapes of our bodies. Oh,

that's a good one.

No.

Oh, it didn't work.

Poor Mr. p*ssy Wussy. Don't you

worry your pretty face, you head. Nurse

Elmira will open up your insidey

whities and see what's wrong.

Pinky, my attempts to take over the world

are being interrupted by constant

interference from Mr. p*ssy Wussy. Oh, I

thought they were being interrupted by

constant failure. Troz. I shall ignore

that remark. OK. Fortunately, I believe I

have hit upon a solution to our

predicament. Voila. Canis

Familiaris, otherwise known as the common

dog. You mean Trudy Mukich?Rudy's gruff

but lovable pooch?Yes. Now

observe, Pinky. Hey, girl. Shake.

Good dog. Now speak,

speak. Hey,

dad. She's very smart. Not

smart. Obedient. She'll follow any

command. And soon so will that darn

cat. Now I only need pluck a single

strand of Trudy's hair.

Good doggy. Roll over.

Yes. No. Oh,

she is well trained.

It's those talking mice. Our

problem is solved, Pinky. Someone's

finally making Bunny outfits our size.

Besides that. By culling genetic

material from a strand of Trudy's hair

and cooking it with rare recombinant

Mojave clam juice, I have created a

doggy DNA c*ck. One dose

of this in Mr. p*ssy Wussy's feline

instincts, including his desire to rip

off our heads and slurp out our innards,

will disappear forever. Not

only will he be as obedient as a dog, but

the formula is calibrated to make him

respond to the exact frequency of my

voice.

Come back, Mr. p*ssy Wussy. I'll give

you NSD.

Hiya, Puss. Hungry for some gelatinous

meat byproduct chunks?If you're not, I'll

take them.

I guess he was hungrier than we thought.

Yes, but fortunately, we still have some

of our DNA c*ck. There you are,

Mr. p*ssy

Wussy. Mr. p*ssy Wussy lost his

mousy wousy squeak toys. Go get him.

No, stop.

What do you know?He stopped. Sit.

Now speak.

Yes! The DNA c*ck worked!

Woof! Woof! Oh, no! Mr.

p*ssy Wussy is broken! Not

broken. Better. His feline

instincts are a thing of the past. He is

a brand-new Mr. p*ssy Wussy.

Oh, he loves you, babe.

Nonsense. He's just responding to the

sound of my voice. Watch. Roll over.

You only squish the ones you love. Not.

Yes, Pinky, I've concocted a new plan.

Thanks to Mr. p*ssy Wussy.

Oh boy. Why don't you go find a fire

hydrant or bury something in the yard?Or

something?Oh, Myra's got talking mice,

and now she's got a cat that barks like a

dog. It's not fair. Pinky,

behold my latest global conquest scheme,

Project Woof Woof. We shall slip

my doggy DNA c*ck into the world's

water supply. When humanity quenches its

thirst, they will become obedient to my

every command, and I shall make them

stay. Brilliant brain. Oh,

wait. Um, now, now, what about people who

drink shishi bottled water?People who

spend $5 for a bottle of water are

already mindless sl*ves, Pinky. Oh, well,

there you are then. All we need to do is

get to the city reservoir and pour the

contents of this flask. Pinky, what

happened to my flask?Well, it was right

here before you told Mr. p*ssy Wussy to

go bury something in the yard. Bury?

No, I used the last of my rare

recombinant Mojave clam juice. I'll never

be able to duplicate it.

Oh, no. Isn't Mr. Pushy

Wushy a clever fuzzy doggy Kitty?

He and I have been burying things all

afternoon. Helmira, he buried

something very important of mine and we

have to get it back. What was it?

Your sunshiny smile?

No, my flask of rare recombinant

DNA transmutating genetic c*ck. Oh,

you naughty, warty potty mouth. Cranky

Mouse and Big Head's gonna get his mouth

washed out.

Now's your chance to tear that stupid cat

to shreds. Make me proud, Trudy.

Hey, cat's not supposed to chase a dog.

It's un-American.

Kitty pound. My name is Rudy Mukich, and

my next door neighbor has a cat that's

trying to eat my dog. I want you to come

gas it. We'll have to dig up every one of

these mounds until we find my flask. Oh,

it's Felicity. Oh, she's not

breathing. She's a doll, Pinky. Oh, don't

I know it, Brain. Zod. She's quite

attractive. Even with her hair must.

The dog catcher's gonna come gash your

cat, and he's gonna get those talking

mice, too. Oh, uh, we're not

talking mice. No, we're, um.. Landscape

architects. Narf. Landscape

architects?Yes. We're here to plant some

dirt in the dirt, and then we'll prune

the dirt. HmmI

guess that makes sense. But he's still

gonna guess your cat. Ah, you always say

the sweetest things, you little Rooty

Tooty super cutie. Look,

Mr. p*ssy Wussy gave Trudy a

present. They're in love. Nah,

gross. I'm gonna give my Rooty

Wooty a nifty gifty too. My

recombinant, uh, stuff. Why

didn't you tell me you had it?You mean

the shiny, happy little bottle thingy?I

took it 'cause it's so pretty. But it's

mine. No way, dirt boy. She gave it

to me, and you can't have it. Oh,

Rudy took my gift to Whifty. That

means we're in love, too.

Kiss me, baby. Aw, no way.

If I have to kiss you, I don't want your

present. No! I've

got it. I've got it. I...

Good catch, Brain. Thank you, Pinky.

Now we can put my plan into action. Soon

the world will obey my every command,

just like Mr. p*ssy Wussy.

No, I mean...

No! My precious DNA c*ck is

wasted.

Let's go back to the house. We might as

well prepare for tomorrow. Ooh, yeah!

Tomorrow we can turn Mr. Shellbud into a

fishy! Over here! Come

on!

I tell you, there are tiny, um, landscape

architects. The cat was chasing the dog,

the girl was trying to kiss me, and the

worms were barking. You know, kid, you're

a little nutcase.

Elmira and the Brain, Brain, Brain,

Brain, Brain