04x12 - You'll Never Eat Brains in This Town Again

[bunniefuu]

You make man?

No.

Woman.

Woman.

Ooh, my creation.

It's my creation.

My creation.

Ooh, I'll create my heart and from my
hands.

Why don't people understand?

He's alive!

Alive!

This is the big hand.

If I win, you lose the pants.

And if I win, your sweater comes off.

Sounds like a win-win deal to me.

Full house.

Darn.

All I have is a pair.

Roger,

what are you trying to do?

Give me a hickey?

Cut!

Cut!

What is it this time?

Roger was halfway to second base.

I was just running flesh, man.

If it was a hickey, believe me,
you'd know.

Too true.

I've seen his work.

And he is mighty.

Can we lose the blood, please?

It's great.

Thanks.

We need to see more meat go flying when
the tan punches through Gary's chest.

That was nine ounces of extra lean turkey
burger.

We use any more and Mom's no notice.

Am I the only one around here who cares if
this movie bites or not?

What's a horror movie without gore?

The lady's right.

The name's Chet Donnelly.

But you can call me daddy.

So, what is a hostess
scrum cake like you doing

hanging out with the
brotherhood of skank?

I wrote a screenplay.

Yeah.

You and everybody else.

Mine is called Squat Thrust.

A Love Story.

Night of the brain sucking zombie
babysitters.

You wrote this.

Uh-huh.

It's my first.

Anglon.

Claude's jugular.

Spurring fountains of blood.

Whipped by his own spinal column.

His ruptured abdominal wall loosing its
gory crimson payload.

This is good.

Really?

You think so?

Me likey.

No, no, no.

Chetty's not helping.

He doesn't know the first thing about
being a stunt coordinator.

Come on.

He likes my script.

I love her script.

I've got a God-given duty to help this
beautiful, talented woman realize her vision.

Trust me.

I know stunts, bro.

I can punch.

I can kick.

What's that noise?

Nothing, Mom.

I think that's a wrap for today.

Congratulations, everyone.

Ready?

And...

action!

I'll save you, Bianca.

Hit him in the head, like I showed you.

It's perfectly safe.

Just use the flat bar.

Oh, Roger.

I'm... I'm so sorry.

It was... That sucked
in so many ways.

My movie's turning out sucky.

Nobody knows what they're doing.

The blood's too runny and my zombies are
dorks.

Making movies is kind of like dating.

You want professional results?

Hire a professional.

Professional, huh?

Did I mention that Matt and Roger are just
the, uh, practice zombies?

Lisa?

No.

The professional zombies should be along
any minute.

They'll save my movie.

I think I hear them now.

We've been scabbed.

Let me get this straight.

You zapped up a
bunch of flesh-eating,

brain-sucking, undead
ghouls to be in our movie?

Oh, during the day zombies are harmless.

Like house pets.

Stinky, dead house pets.

I need them to rescue my movie.

They're perfect.

All you have to do is point them in the
right direction and turn on the camera.

Yeah.

They seem harmless.

And they sure look great.

Somebody mind telling me what's up with
the new guys?

They're kind of freaky.

And the fat one keeps checking me out.

Um, they're students.

College students.

In makeup.

Drama majors from USC.

Method actors.

Very intense.

They don't talk to anyone because they're
always in character.

Hmm.

College boys, huh?

Well, that would explain the smell.

Well, they're in this stuntman's army now.

All right, you over-educated snot-sucking
crisp bags!

Line up for zombie drills!

That voice.

Chet!

Chet, leave them alone.

You're just... you're disturbing their
concentration.

These loaf jockeys think they're really
cute!

But I can keep up with it as long as they
can!

Can you indeed, Chester?

That voice.

Once more into the breach, old foe?

a*s-sistant principal scampi.

That's principal scampi now.

You know?

You'll always be an a*s-sistant to me.

One big old shiny a*s-istant.

Enough badinage.

Vacate school property immediately,
or you'll be one sorry underachiever.

Say, are you kids, uh, sh**ting a movie
here, Mr. Donnelly?

Well, actually, we're...
He's Mr. Donnelly.

You're just Chester.

Get it straight, Special Ed.

Actually, uh, we're sh**ting a movie as
sort of an independent project.

I'm sorry if we broke any rules.

I suppose I could look the other way this
once.

Thanks.

Say, I don't suppose there's some small
role in your film for an old ham now,

is there?

Perhaps a cameo?

Uh, I've got a spit-take that is
guaranteed to bust a gut.

Gosh, that's-that's really-that's a great
idea, really.

Um, I just wish you had said something
before we filled all the parts.

Ah.

I see.

Well, I'd...

Probably just... Slow
you kids down, anyway.

Carry on.

Okay.

Now.

I'm gonna do a high kick.

I'm gonna come pretty close to your face.

Don't worry.

I won't connect.

Uh, now.

When I bring my leg up, you snap your head
back to make it look like I hit it.

Alright?

Snap.

Snap.

Yeah, there you go.

Snap.

Okay.

Alright, now.

There you go.

Let's give it a shot.

Ah!

Ah!

Youth.

Don't wanna be around when that baby comes
down.

It wasn't my fault.

His head was loose or something.

He was supposed to snap back.

Dear God, why didn't he snap back?

Don't tell Mom.

Hmm.

Looks like our movie sh**t's over.

We can give up on my movie.

I've already written six sequels.

So what do you suggest we use for actors?

Well, we did have a volunteer.

I can't tell you how excited I am to be
acting again.

You know, I once auditioned for the
Richard Pryor show.

I would have played the uptight h*nky and
the jittery mugger sketch.

Well, I'm sure you'll be great,
sir.

Okay, this is the big sacrifice scene.

Now, the zombies are about to offer you up
to Ray Mead, the great zombie god.

And then they eat your brains.

Wow.

They remember, guys.

Take all you want, but you gotta eat all
you take.

They certainly are a dour bunch.

UCLA?

USC.

Say no more.

Well, yuck.

Check it out, Gary.

The world's nastiest hand puppets.

I'm Mr. Zombie Head.

What's your name?

I'm Mr. Hand.

Can I pick your nose for you?

Okie dokie.

Ow!

The damn thing's so moving!

Bite this!

Real mature, Elise.

What?

Stupid thing bit me!

So maybe it was hungry.

Uh-oh.

Before she ran out of here in a blind panic,
did the all-powerful genie say, uh-oh?

You heard that too, huh?

Since when did it get dark at 4 frickin'

Spill it, Elise.

It's sundown.

I totally spaced on the fact that zombies
feed after dark.

You said feed.

Feed on what?

Brains.

When the sun goes down, boom.

They'll scarf the brains out of anything
that moves.

Scampi.

Braaaains.

Oh.

Are we starting them?

Gary!

I think you should come back in here!

I think we've got some eager beavers on
our hands here!

Help!

Help!

Get your hands off me!

Get away from me!

Get off me!

The flat part hurts the most.

Use the flat part.

The hell with that.

You just made him angry!

What kind of half-assed honor student are
you?

Everybody chill!

There's a genie in the house.

Something's wrong.

Ew!

My zapper smells funky.

You want to explain to me what just
happened in there?

I mean, I can
understand special... Oh!

What was that?

Good sweet heaven.

Oh!

Wallace Stanley!

The gymnasium doors are...

What?

Went too many blows to the head.

On the bright side, it looks like we lost
the groovy ghoulies.

What happened back there?

Why didn't your magic work?

I don't know.

When I tried to zap them, it made this
awful rotten smell.

That might have been me.

When I get nervous.

Hoo-wee!

Wyatt!

Thank God I found you.

See these savings bonds?

I'm thinking they're kind
of like a... a time machine.

I give them to you, and
suddenly... history has altered.

Suddenly... I was miles away
when that ugly kid's head fell off.

What do you say?

I don't have time for this.

Wyatt!

I can't go to prison.

I've got sexy skin.

I barely made it through boot camp.

Eep!

It's the ugly kid's friends!

And they look pissed!

AHHHHH!

I hope he's okay.

Forget scampi!

I want answers.

Bottom line?

Those zombies aren't actors.

They're actual undead ghouls, risen from
the grave, intent on devouring our brains!

Oh, thank God!

There's no law against... knocking
the head off a zombie now, is there?

I'm off the hook!

Glad he's happy.

Meanwhile, we're stuck with a pack of
hungry zombies and no idea how to stop them.

You need salt.

According to voodoo lore, you destroy a
zombie by filling its mouth with salt.

This apparently serves to nullify the bad
juju.

How the hell do you know that?

The X-Files is somewhat of a guilty
pleasure of mine.

That Agent Scully can dissect me anytime
she wants.

Woof.

Okay.

Salt.

So we get some salt, and we feed it to the
zombies.

That doesn't sound too hard.

Uh-oh.

There's that uh-oh again.

She's like clockwork.

This is serious.

Now I know why my magic didn't work.

Look where the zombie bit me!

Somehow I don't think Bactine's gonna
clear that up.

It's spreading.

I'm gonna turn into a zombie!

Okay, we gotta move fast.

Chet, you keep an eye on Lisa.

We're gonna go to the cafeteria and find
some salt.

You a zombie yet?

No.

You a zombie yet?

No!

How about now?

Yeah!

Psych!

Hilarious.

What a funny lady.

A comedian.

A regular, uh, you know, um...

You know...

I can't think of a female comedian worth a
damn.

Ellen DeGeneres!

Yeah, she's good.

Okay, salt.

Salt.

Salt.

There's gotta be salt somewhere.

Hurry up!

I... I can't hold
out much longer!

Dammit, they're all empty!

Bad news, boys.

There's not a lick of salt anywhere in
that kitchen.

Oh, perfect!

Come Monday morning, they're
gonna find our bones picked

apart, scattered amongst
the cream corn and tater dots!

Tater dots?

Tater dots!

Don't look at me, he's your friend.

Crack skull.

Suck jet.

Eat brains!

Brains!

Weird.

This is my letter to Penthouse,
like word for word.

Tater dots!

Tater dots!

I've got tater dots!

If you're doing last meal, I'd rather go
with pizza bagels.

These suckers are salt bombs.


That explains my high blood pressure!

Do zombies like tater dots?

They will.

I got a plan.

Untie me.

Love jet.

Want jet.

You only want me for my brains.

Don't you realize there's a body here too?

Kiss jet.

A body with needs.

Lick jet.

Lick jet?

And what do you do next?

Tell me real slow.

Eat brains!

Oh no!

You were so close.

Almost had me.

Nuts!

We're dead.

This is stupidest plan you've ever had.

What?

I think they look realistic.

They look like a bunch of dummies,
man.

They're smooshed tater dots.

They're going for it.

We did it!

Those zombies are boned.

I realize it's the weekend,
Mr. Wallace, but that

sort of language just
doesn't impress people.

But we really opened a can of whip-a*s on
them this time, didn't we?

Glad you're back to normal, Lise.

So, how do we handle the Scampi and Chet
situation?

No sweat.

I wiped their memories.

I added a creative little twist I'm very
proud of.

Chester Donnelly?

Geez, not so loud.

What the hell am I doing here?

With you?

Have we become drinking buddies?

I don't remember.

But it's the only thing that makes sense.

You think we had a good time?

Hell, look around.

laughter

Mmm It's science Fantasy and microchips
sh**ting from the hip Something different

will make it weird It's science,
pictures from a magazine, bits and pieces,

bits and pieces, bits and pieces,
my creation.

Is it real?

It's my creation.

Why do you not know that?

Why don't people understand my intentions?