02x17 - A Day at the Circus

[bunniefuu]

It's alive!

I just can't do a thing with it.

Hey, guys, going on a mission?
Can I come?

Sorry, Snow Job.
This mission doesn't require skis.

Wearing a blindingly white outfit
in the middle of jungle warfare...

makes you
a very sh**t target, man.

Bunch of G.I. Jerks!

Those guys suck. Someday
I'll show them how much I rock.

Attention, G.I. Joe!

I am Samuel Schmid,
President of Switzerland.

The Swiss Alps,
they have been overrun by Yeti!

- Just one Yeti?
- Yeti, yetis...

whatever the plural is!
We need your help!

Sounds like a go job for Snow Job!

- That's awful.
- Yeah, I gotta work on that.

This must be the Swiss Capitol building.
But I don't see any Yeti.

Yetis. Yeti?
I don't see anyone!

What?

- Snow Job, you idiot.
- Snow Job, you'll believe anything!

ret*rd!

Soldier, sorry about that practical joke.

Please forgive us, Snowy Dealings.

We were careless with your feelings.

- Whatever. I don't care.
- Did you see? It's snowing outside!

- Really?!
- Yep. We have a mission for you.

Awesome!

Son of a bitch!

Now just hold still.
This won't hurt...

Guys?

I don't think that flying monkey
road k*ll is sitting so well.

So how long have you two been?

A while, OK?

You're a big hand now, Thing.

I think it's time you went
and made it on your own.

I'm sorry, Thing, old man.

I've got to hand it to you, Mr. Thing,
your resume is very impressive.

Massage therapy, palm reading,
ensemble in Annie.

Well, I'm willing
to give you a sh*t, kid.

Hey, Thing.
Let me introduce Allison from accounting.

She needs a ride home tonight,
if you can handle it.

Oh, Thing!
Oh, Thing!

It's not you, Thing, it's me.
I want to have children someday...

and you don't have reproductive organs.
I'm sorry.

Hey, Thing. Sorry
things didn't work out with Allison.

No pun intended.

But I'd like to introduce you
to the new girl from accounting.

Thing, Emma Jig.

Thing, Emma Jig,
I now pronounce you hand and hand.

How are they going to, you know, do it?

¤ Get funky with your fingers ¤

¤ Funky with your fingers ¤

¤ Baby, funky with your fingers ¤

What are you supposed to be?
A leprechaun or something?

Sure, you got that right, lad.
One of the wee folk!

A natural-born
son of beautiful mother Ireland.

OK.

So if I catch you,
do I get your pot of gold?

Of course, me lad. A pot of gold
for anyone who can catch...

Bollocks!
Bartender, another beer, if you...

Check it out, guys!
It's a real live leprechaun!

He's giving out real gold!
Look, I got some.

Bollocks!

No!

- Damn that Carney!
- What are we going to do?

I've got an idea.

Why did I get a pot of crap?

That will put an end to that.

Welcome to the memory game!
Let's bring out our first contestant.

Hi, I'm Charles, and I'm
from Toronto, Ontaro, Canada. Yeah!

Charles, are you ready
to enter the Hall of Memory?

- I am!
- Then let's play!

So what am I supposed to?

Too bad, Charles. All right,
let's bring out our next contestant.

- Hugh!
- Hi, I'm Hugh.

- And I don't want to play anymore.
- Hugh, get on in there.

Way to use your memory.

Hugh remembered that arrow.

You've got to watch those spikes.
Here goes Martha!

She ducks the arrows,
and jumps the spikes.

She avoids the falling rock,
now she swings over the molten lava!

There's that hidden axe!

That makes fighting
that skeleton so much easier.

Quickly through the poison gas.

And she's over
those pesky saw blades!

She eats the brownie
that's not filled with laxative.

And she's over to the giant piano!
Greensleeves, that's it!

- She's done it!
- I did it, I did it! Yeah!

Congratulations, Martha!
Are you ready to collect your prize?

Yes, I am!

Great! It's right over there!

What's wrong?
Go on, claim your prize.

I... OK!

Now you just have to escape with it!

What?

A black stallion!
What a beautiful horse!

- Wassup, son?
- You can talk?!

You think because I'm a "black" stallion
that I can't talk?

You think I'm stupid
or uneducated or something?

No, it's just horses don't usually...

r*cist!

Look, Black Stallion!
I caught a wild rooster!

Well, about damn time!
I'm starving up in this mug, man.

Should I fry it up?

You think 'cause I'm a "black" stallion
that I like fried chicken.

Yes, massa! Yeah!
Can I get me some fried chicken, please?

What? No, no! I just...
No, I mean, I meant...

- Never mind.
- r*cist.

Black Stallion, I found
a source of fresh water!

That's not the Black Stallion.
I'm the Black Stallion!

What, you think
all black horses look the same?

We all just one big race
of black stallions to you, aren't we?

No, I just...
I thought there were...

- You probably can't even dance, h*nky.
- I can too dance! Watch!

Snap!

See, Black Stallion?

We both have misconceptions
and misunderstandings.

And you can be a r*cist, too.

Little white boy,
you have taught me a lot...

about myself and race relations.
I love you.

Kids!
Come inside for hot cocoa.

- Have you guys seen Billy?
- No.

Detective Oprah!

You're going to go
after the biggest crime boss in Chicago.

So you'll need a no-nonsense partner
with a no-nonsense moustache.

Meet Dr. Phil.

Come on, Oprah.
It's time to get real.

I'm aging too gracefully for this sh*t.

That's the Big Boss'
right-hand man, Salvador.

If I can get five million
white trash housewives...

to read w*r and Peace,
I can get this guy to talk.

Let me try something, Oprah.
Hey, listen, Salvador?

You show eight out of nine signs
of being a criminal psychopath.

But a new day is just
waiting around the corner.

We'll be right back
after this commercial...

Who the f*ck are you?
And what the f*ck did you just say?

I think he's really opening up.

Yeah, opening up
a can of whoop-ass!

Salvador, I think a lot of this anger...

is stemming
from the relationship with your father.

I'd like to bring him out here.
Come on out, dad.

Papa?! How did you?

But you don't have enough
money to fly from Italy.

All guests of The Oprah Winfrey Show
fly first class on Delta Airlines.

Papa! Papa!

Take 'em down!

If you rat on your boss...

we'll give you a -inch high definition
plasma TV from Samsung.

That's just
a refurbished floor model!

- You go to hell!
- Tell me about your childhood.

Did someone touch you as a kid?

That is wrong,
but it's not your fault.

I care about you.

The boss, he hangs out
behind the bowling alley.

Book 'em, Oprah!

Time for you fools
to join my Book Club.

The first book
is a story about a sucker.

Oprah, I'm already
a member of your book...

I would love to kick your ass!

Stay back!

I don't trust you cops
further than I could throw you.

Well, then, let's try a trust exercise.

You fall back into my arms.
Trust me, I won't harm you.

OK.

But they will.

You may have caught me but
you have no proof I ever k*lled anybody.

Yeah? Look under your chair.

In hindsight, that was a mistake.

Well, you're right, Oprah.
You always are.