03x06 - Pat-per-Route/Day of the Dartfish

[bunniefuu]

- Hi! I'm Patrick Star!

And I live with my parents!

Ow!

This is my dad.

[zany music]

This is my mom.
[laughs]

This is my sister. She's shy.

This is my grandpa.

This is my room!

And this...

♪ ♪

This is my show!

♪ ♪

[upbeat music]

- Welcome back, kiddos.

It's your old pal,
Safe T. Snail,

here to teach you
how to be safety smart.

- All right.

Let's talk safety.

- Last week, we talked
about crossing the street

and tying our shoes.

Today, we're talking about
dynamite hurling maniacs.

[gasps]
- Oh, no!

- You never know
if one of these fiends

could even be
your next-door neighbor.

It's your civic duty
to stop them in their tracks

and protect Bikini Bottom.

- Newspapers.

I've got the news.

I've got booms, booms.

[cackling]

- [growls]

[bicycle bell dings]

[grunts]
Keep your stinking dynamite.

[grunts]

- [humming]

Dynamite?
[gasps]

Phew.

[grunting]

Ahh!

[grunting]

- [gasps]
- Ahh!

[groans]

- Gee, mister.

You don't look so good.

Have some fresh lemonade.

- Bleh!

What's in that garbage?

- Fresh lemons
and fresh dynamite.

[cackling]

[loud expl*si*n]

- Well, it took 16 hours,


of your newsboy insurance.

But we finally got you
back together in one piece.

Mostly.

I'm going to prescribe
you one month of bed rest.

- Oh, but I need to get
back to my paper route.

I'm so close to earning
the Golden Lobber award,

the annual award given
to the very best paper boys.

Oh, a year of hard work
down the drain.

- Golden Lobster?

Well, I didn't know that.

- What?

Patrick.

- I'm so sorry

my totally understandable
mix-up ruined your award.

Is there anything I can
do so you'll forgive me?

- You can start by letting go.

- Wait.

I have a better idea.

How's about I finish
the paper route with you?

- No way.

I am more than capable
of doing it on my own.

[sighs]

I can't believe
I'm going to say this,

but Patrick, I'd really
appreciate your help.

- Don't worry.

I'm here to lift you up.

This is way more important
than pretending to be a doctor.

Hee-hee.

We'll get this done in a jiffy.

- Now listen, Patrick.

The first thing to know
is we're not just tossing

newspapers willy-nilly.

There's an art
to it, a technique.

Watch and learn.

- Wow, Squidward.

You're amazing.

Here, let me try.

[glass shattering]

- Hey, watch where
you're throwing those.

Ooh.

- Paper for you
and paper for you.

- Here are the keys to
your brand-new glass house.

- [blabbering]

[glass shattering]

Enjoy your new home.

Bye-bye.

- Well,
at least he's efficient.

At this rate, we'll finish the
paper route with time to spare.

- [grunts]
- Ahh-ahh-ahh!

- Papers for all.

- Ow, ow, ow.

- [grunts]

- Huh?

Ohh!

Ow.

[together]
Hooray!

Aww.

- Sunday edition coming up.

- Patrick, wait.

The fanciest lady in Bikini
Bottom lives in that house.

If we don't get this
delivery perfect,

I can kiss that
Golden Lobber goodbye.

- A fancy lady, huh?

Well, I'll give her
my fanciest throw.

[munching, spits]

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- [slurping]

- Your paper, madame.

- Unbelievable!

- Well, we should get going
before Lady Upturn finds out

we're the ones
who wrecked her house.

- Paperboy!

I am off...fff...

ficially ecstatic
over your paperboy throw.

There's an art behind
it, a technique.

And you've landed it
with the financial section

facing up, no less.

[laughs]

A handsome tip
for your perfect delivery.

Best paperboy ever.

- Could Patrick really be
the best paperboy ever?

[sirens wailing]

There's only one
way to find out.

Say, Patrick, if you really
are the best paperboy,

then I bet you can do the one
thing no other paperboy has

ever done.

- Respect myself?

- No.

Get my worst customer to
finally pay for his paper.

- Who's that?

- The moocher who lives there.

- That looks like my house.

A bunch of copycats
must live there.

- Yeah, sure.

Copycats.

Only a copycat would stiff
us on the paper money.

- That no good,
lousy, cheap-steak.

We're going in
there, Squidward.

Let's make this guy pay.

[doorbell rings]

- Ow.

- Pay up for your
papers, freeloader.

- So they sent a paperboy
to do a paperman's job.

- [gasps]

He has my dad's wallet.

They are copycats.

Ahh!

- [giggling]

- Ow.

- This ought to slow him down.

- [gulps]

- Oh, you like that, huh?

- No, I don't like it.

I love it!

- Have some more.

- [gulping]

My compliments to the chef.

- Ow.

- [cackling]

Aha.

- [gulps]

[grunts]

[buzzer blares]

- Sure is dark in here.

- Huh?

Where are we?

- Come and get me, paperboy.

- Ow.

- Oh, yeah?

- Ow.

- No, no, no.

Wait, Patrick.

It's another mirror.

- Hmm.

[panting]

- [cackling]

- [whimpering]

Oh, he's won, Patrick.

He's never going to pay us.

- Oh, yeah?

Well, I've got news for you.

This one's on the house.

[grunts]

[glass shattering]

Your crime spree
is over, old man.

- Now you're really
going to pay.

- No, no.

Don't make me do it.

- That'll be 75 cents.

- Ohh.
- Oh, fine.

You win this time.

- I don't believe it.

I finally got his money.

We really are the best paper--

[loud thud]

Boys.

- Hey, who threw that?

This is our paperboy turf.

- [laughs]
Sorry about that, boys.

[regal music]

But I do love
to make an entrance.

- The Newspaper King.

- Who?

- Bow down, you chucklehead.

- By the kingly
powers vested in me,

I hereby awardeth
the Golden Lobber

to the very best paperboy--

- [gasps]

Finally.

- --Patrick Star.

- All right.

But I couldn't have done it
without the dynamite-hurling

maniac who showed me how.

So I'd like to give this--

- Uh-huh.

- --half to you.

- Heh-heh-heh. Um--

- Smile for the camera, boys.

- Oh.

Well, I can always win
both halves next year.

Ain't that right, this
year's best newspaper boy?

- You said it, next
year's best newspaper boy.

But for now,
let's get that deadbeat.

- Why are you chasing me?

I already paid you.

Ahh!
[bicycle bell dings]

- Another Cecil?

I wouldn't want
to be that copycat.

- Good morning, Cecil.

- Salutations, Cecil.

- Oh-h*!
- Looking good, Cecil.

- Hey, looking good.

[gentle music]

[all snoring]

♪ ♪

[loud rumbling]

- Huh?

[together]
Huh?

Wahh!

- [humming]

- [shouting]

Oh, that's a wrap on me.

- [shouting]

Ready for my close-up.

- [shouting]

Touchdown!

[phone ringing]

- Yes?

Hey, Becky.

Oh, nothing.

What are you doing?

- My stache.

- Now I'm the daddy.

- [screams]

- Teensy Tom.

- ♪ A clean hole
is a happy hole ♪

- [shouting]

- What's for breakfast, Mom?

- Like always,
whatever the Stars don't eat.

- Do you remember
the Dartfish code of honor?

- Never be greedy.

Take only what's needy.

- Bless the stars
for they are aquatic.

With them, we live symbiotic.

[all screaming]

- If we keep them alive,
the Stars will provide.

All right, Dartfish.

Time to forage for some food.

[sniffs]

Ahh, the great indoors.

Let's do what Patrick's pants
did the other day and split up.

Family handstack.

all: Go, Dartfish!

[upbeat music]

- [gasps]

- You're looking a
little naked, Mr. Bread.

Let me help you get dressed.

♪ ♪

- I'm sure to get
a piece of that.

- This should keep it cool.

[loud thud]

OK, sandwich.

I'm ready for--

[screams]

- Patrick.

- [groaning]

- Oh, no.

What do I do?

Oh, OK.

This might work.

[panting]

I'll save you, Patrick.

[panting]

Ahh! Ahh!

Wahh!

- Whoa.

Hey.

Did you do that?

I'd just like to
thank you ever so much,

Mr. Kitchen Cactus Man.

Mmm.

Now, where was I?

[gulps]

[belches]

- Yay!

The Stars prov-- huh?

[loud thud]

Aw, nuts.

[metal clanging]

- The doodad
and the thingamajig

don't fit the gizmo.

- [grunting]

- Oh, my.

Would you look at that burrito?

- [munching]

[buzzsaw whirring]

- Ooh.

- I don't get it.

I tried the buzzsaw
and the screwdriver.

What more could I possibly do?

Ugh, I need some burrito
for my brain.

[buzzsaw whirring]

- Oh, no.

[gasping]

[buzzsaw whirring]

[grunting]

[button clicks]

- Hey, who turned
off my burrito?

Wait, this isn't my burrito.

Hmm.

Oh, it's all your fault,
you delicious burrito.

I should have never ordered
a breakfast burrito at night.

Take that!

- Ahh!

Geronimo!

So much for the bean cuisine.

- I told you.
- Huh?

- I need 300 rubber
duckies by tomorrow.

This show doesn't
run itself, people.

- Jackpot.

- I don't care if it puts
a knot in Neptune's tail.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

- No.

[grunting]

- Here I come, Squidina.

Almost there.

- [screams]

- Whee!

Hey, this gives me an idea for
a really cool flying segment.

[screams]

- Ooh!

- Oh.

Ohh.

Dad, I'm afraid we failed.

- And now we're even
hungrier than before.

[tummy grumbling]

- Do not fret, children.

Your dad's got a new plan,
and it involves

the person in that room.

[together]
GrandPat?

- That's right.

And have you ever
seen GrandPat's beard?

Why, it's a
cornucopia of crumbs.

- Best part about being my
age, I got no more friends

alive to share my cake with.

[gulps]

[groans]

Now I got the cake sleeps.

[snoring]

- We made it
to the dense jungles

of the bushy brow Amazon.

Let the crumb harvest begin.

Phew.
- Hey, Dad, look.

[all gasp]

- GrandPat, wake up.

- Huh?

My cake.

And my beard.

We got a dirty, no-good,
cake-stealing thief

on our hands.

[snoring]

- Did you hear that, family?

Someone
is breaking the Dartfish Code.

We gotta catch this thief.

- Tom, sweetie.

Mommy's gonna need a hand.

- [yelping]

- [snoring]

- Follow that cake.

[all panting]

OK, family.

You know the drill.

- Yep.
[all grunting]

[adventurous music]

♪ ♪

- Look at all
the other stuff he's

stolen from the Star family.

- He even took
"The Patrick Show!" set.

- And Patrick.

- Hi.

- You're the perfect
addition to my collection.

- Um, excuse us.
- Huh?

- Sorry to bother you.

We couldn't help but notice
you've stolen all of the Star

family's belongings.

And, well,
we were just wondering

how you could ever do
such a terrible thing

to such a generous family.

- Oh, I-- I--

I can't help it.

I should be ashamed,
but I'm not.

All that matters
is that I complete

my precious collection.

The only thing left to collect
is the Dartfish family.

Wait a second.

You are the Dartfish family.

- Dartfish, dart.

[all panting]

- [cackling]

- OK, Dartfish.

Let's give him
the old flat tire.

- [cackling]

Ahh!

[whimpering]

You Dartfish are
not very smart fish.

But not to worry.

You'll be safe
in this Mylar bag.

[all panting]

- My collection.

Come back here.

[upbeat music]

Oh, "The Patrick Show!"
is about to start.

[loud clang]

[panting]

Yes!

[crickets chirping]

- Huh?

Where's Patrick's desk?

- And where's Patrick?

- Uh, sorry, everyone.

"The Patrick Show!" is having
some technical difficulties

at the moment.

- Psst.

Excuse me.
[whispering indistinctly]

- Ooh.

We interrupt
this interruption

to bring you an
important message

from the Dartfish family.

- [clears throat]

Hello, everyone.

We all love
"The Patrick Show!" and wish

we could take a part of it
and put it in our pocket

or add it to a giant
collection that we

have hidden in the wall.

But "The Patrick Show!"
isn't just for you.

It's for everyone.

And if we share that love,
it's sure to grow.

- It's like he's
talking directly to me.

- I am talking directly to you.

- I can still fix this.

[loud thudding]

- Look.

All the other stuff he
stole, including Patrick.

- Hello.

- Sorry for collecting you.

No hard feelings?

- OK.

Oh, cool.

A flying segment.

Whee!

- Thank you, Dartfish family.

- Yeah, thanks.

[together]
The Stars--

provide.