All language subtitles for Duckman - 1x06 - Ride the High School-ing

(whistles)

(quacks)

(elephant trumpeting)

Today, son, I teach you
to catch many food beasts.

Bring great honor
to our tribe.

(clavichord playing)

Patience, Wolfie,
patience.

Embrace the music
with love, son.

With feeling.

(drum and fife corps playing
"Yankee Doodle")

That's right, son,

study very hard
and you may be the father

of more than just
your children someday.

(grunts)

(truck horn honks)

(static hissing)

CHARLES:
Morning, Dad.

We're off to get
an education

in the hopes of one day

making a meaningful
contribution to society.

And though we
have no reason

to expect anything
inspirational,

we're semi-open to
whatever fatherly advice

you'd like to
foist upon us.

Fill it up. Unleaded.

AUNT BERNICE:
You'll have to excuse
your father.

He's been like that
since 10:00 last night.

The cable company
accidentally unscrambled

the Bouncing Naked Flesh Channel
for three seconds,

and he's afraid to blink
in case it happens again.

Check, please.

(turns off vacuum)

Off to school, boys.

There'll be time enough later
to watch him degenerate

into a desperate and pathetic
middle-aged man.

Good luck, Dad!

Follow that dream.

(both laughing)

The economy, of course,
being a primary concern.

Personally, I don't mind him
sleeping the night on the sofa.

It saves me from having
to hose down his rubber sheets.

(laughing)

This looks like as good a time
as any to go through his mail.

Eh, junk, junk, junk.

Summons, junk,
junk, summons...

Duckman!

Did you see
this letter?!

This is incredible!

They're sending
the home electrolysis kit

I ordered for you?

No, you slobbering imbecile,

it's from the Littlefield School
for Gifted Boys.

For, huh?

It's a private educational
institution upstate,

and listen to this--
they want Ajax!

Look, I told those quacks
over and over,

if they want to hook electrodes
up to my kid's head,

the figure they mentioned
wasn't even in the ballpark.

Not for
experimentation.

It's a boarding school.

They want him
to be a student!

(both laughing)

(passing gas)

DUCKMAN:
Gifted boy? Gifted?

Where's he going
to get the gift?

(laughing)

Wait a minute.

What if it isn't
a mistake?

What if they really
do want him?

Maybe he is a
gifted student

with promise and potential
we don't even know about?

Hey, someone,
the escalator stopped.

I'm stuck.

(crickets chirping)
Somebody!

Well, it doesn't mean the right
education couldn't change him.

Bernice, the boy
is 15 years old.

He still hasn't mastered
the four-slice toaster.

Besides, I can't believe
you're even thinking about

sending Ajax away
to a boarding school.

He's my son. I love him.

He's the only one around
here I can talk to.

No way that boy
leaves this house.

It's a scholarship.
It'd be free.

Anyone needs me,
I'll be turning his room

into a pool hall/Babe-A-Torium.

Not really.

It's just a long way to go
for a cheap joke.

Just think
about it, okay?

I've got to take
Ajax his lunch again.

He forgets that yesterday's
is gone now.

Wait a minute.
I'll do it.

You?!

Yeah, me. I'm his father.

What do you think I am,
completely disconnected

from my son's life?

Where does he, uh,
go to school again?

(heavy metal music playing)

Ah, the hallowed halls.

Good. They finally got
a metal detector.

That will keep out
the riffraff.

(alarm sounds, Duckman screams)

Wait a minute,
it's just a lunch box.

Nothing is just a lunch box.

(eerie jungle noises)

(deep voice):
The horror...the horror.

Uh, excuse me

I'm looking for
my son, Ajax.

You don't have
a hall pass either!

Do you?!

(laughing hysterically)

(howling insanely)

(students yelling,
automatic gunfire)

(girl moaning)

It's okay.

I'm her geometry teacher.

Hey, I ain't in it
for the salary.

(loud rumbling, Duckman screams)

(panting)

MAN:
Sorry, mate.

Garbage from the cafeteria
tends to pile up a bit, eh?

Ooh, watch yourself.

It's the gangs.

(clattering)

(Duckman grunting)

Cool it, daddy-o.

Let's save our strength
for the Sharks.

(dramatic music playing,
snapping fingers)

(groaning)

(growling)

(Duckman yelling)

Let's go put on a show,
Alfalfa.

(all laughing)

Dad...

What brings you here?

Twinkie?

Thanks, Dad.

DUCKMAN:
Beatrice?

No, I'm the one
who had the sound judgment

not to marry you.

Bernice, I was attacked,
beaten, left for dead.

I warned you not to join
a record and tape club.

No, at Ajax's school.
Where's Ajax?

He's in his room
watching PBS.
Hmm?

Today is sponsored
by the letter "H."

Thank God he's okay.

That school
is a hellhole.

I just don't understand.

It used to be
such a fine school.

What could have caused
such a decline?

ALL:
No new taxes! No new taxes!

(chuckles nervously):
Who knows?

The important thing
is that my son

can't go to school
in that sewer!

I hate to admit it, but
I think you were right.

I think he would be better
off at that private school.

Could I have a peanut butter
and jelly sandwich?

Ajax, we're sending you
to boarding school.

What if I just had
peanut butter?

It's a wonderful
opportunity, Ajax.

Well, it's...

not that we want
you to leave, son.

It's just that we want
what's best for you.

You understand.

I tell you what, you wouldn't
have to leave till Monday.

What do you say you and me
have the weekend of our lives?

Just the two of us doing
anything you want to do.

Okay, Dad.

* People, let me tell you
about my best friend *

* He's a one boy, cuddly toy *

* My up, my down,
my pride and joy *

* People, let me tell you
about him *

* He's so much fun *

* Whether we're talking
man to man *

* Or whether we're talking
son to son *

* 'Cause he's my best friend *

* Yeah, he's my best friend *

* La, pa-da-da-da-ya *

* Pa-da-da-da-ya *

* Pa-da-da-da-ya... *

(continues humming)

(continues humming)

(music fades)

(yawning)

Good night, Charles.

Good night, eh...
Charles' brother.

TWINS:
Good night.

Good night, Bern...
(Aunt Bernice screaming)

(sputtering)
Yuck!

It'll be a long time
before I eat broccoli again.

(neon light buzzing)

Good night, son.

I'll miss you.

(snoring)

DUCKMAN:
A good education--
that's the key to life, son.

Getting back to the three Rs:

Reading, uh, Running,
and, uh, the other thing.

Duckman, stop!

What?! What?!

(bike bell ringing)

Bernice, don't
yell like that.

I thought I was going
to hit something.

(cow mooing)

Unpack the car,
will you, son?

Sure, Dad.
(car dieseling)

Just look
at this place.

I'll be
in no time at all,

they're going
to double his I.Q.

Throw me the keys.

Sending it soaring
into the high teens.

Ah, splendid.
You've arrived.

Welcome to Littlefield, Ajax.

We're most eager to
have you in our family.

I'm Professor Edwin Byer,
headmaster of Littlefield.

You must be Duckman.

And this is
your lovely wife?

(sputters)

Don't even kid about that.

Oh, I'm Bernice,
his sister-in-law.

Thank you so much for your
oversight-- graciousness--

in allowing Ajax

to come to a school
like this.

Well, every year,
we select one student,

based on very
strict criteria,

to come here
on scholarship.

So, what clinched
it, Professor?

His raw potential,
his hidden abilities,

his good
breeding stock?

He scored lowest in perceptible
brain waves and qualified

under Project Emergency
Intelligence Relief.

Congratulations, son,
you came in first.

Tied, actually.

The other was
a Bein Heroda Lamb Ohamada

who lives in a grass and
manure hut in Bangladesh.

Ajax edged him out

by having a less
tolerable living situation.

Tell me about it, Ed.

She can be a real
pain in the-- Whoo!

So...
(glass breaking)

shall we see your
lovely campus?

You can see
the Olympic-sized pool there

between the tennis courts
and the polo field.

To our left
is the student cafeteria

where four-star chefs

prepare low-fat,
high protein meals.

Straight ahead, our NASA
antigravity stimulator.

No kidding. Ow!

And this is the student union

where you can relax,
have a cappuccino,

and to use youth's
colorful vernacular,

rap with your peers.

Will they be grossed out

if I occasionally scrape
the fungus off my bill?

(gasping)

(chuckling):
Not at all.

As you can see, we have the
socially challenged section

where you can perfect
your interactive skills

(belching)
without judgment

until you're ready
to integrate with the others.

Oops! I'm so sorry.

Did I disturb you?

Huh?

Huh? Huh? Huh?

I'm Deana.
What's your name?

Duckman.
Duckman with an "D."

In fact, PhD, Loveology.

Perhaps you'd care
to stay after class

while I grade on your curves?

(Duckman grunts)
You're pathetic.

You've got kidney stones
older than her.

You look new.

Here's my phone number.

Call me.

We can go
to Friday's mixer together.

Bye-bye.

Be good, okay?

Brush your teeth,

and promise you'll bathe
at least once a week

even if the other kids
laugh at you in the shower.

(sniffling)

I promise, Aunt Bernice.

(gentle music playing)

Son.
Dad.

(music swells)

Wow. For a moment,

we were just like one
of those ideal families

in those sappy
situation comedies.

Yeah. The kind
where they learn something

from each other every week

and then the music swells,
and they hug.

(laughing)

Well, good luck, son.

All right, let's go.

These candies melt,

I can't use them as slugs
in the toll basket.

(sniffles)

(gasping)

Deana's phone number!

I don't think that's something
you have to worry about

just now.

(Byer laughing deviously)

Ajax, knock off
that racket.

Ajax isn't here,
Duckman.

Oh. Right.

Humor him.
This could be the snap

the social workers
warned us about.

Okay.

Gee, Dad, it must
have been difficult

sending your
firstborn away

from the only home
he's ever known.

(sniffling)

(sobbing)

You did your best.

You know, it is pretty empty
around here.

(sniffling)

What's in the box,
Duckman?

Some of Ajax's stuff.

I just wanted to be
around it, you know.

Wow. I remember that day.

His souvenir program from
Sorrow and the Pity...

on ice.

His first
reading primer

still wrapped in the
original plastic.

His third grade
report cards

(sniffles)
from all four years.

Look, his Bebe Rebozo
autographed baseball.

Oh, his first
teething ring...

and his most recent one.

And here's his
collection of animals

that were run over
on the freeway.
(flies buzzing)

(all sobbing)

Oh, he loved these-- his Silence
of the Lambs action figures.

Remember how
he used to play?

(as Hannibal Lecter):
Are the lambs
silent, Clarice?

(slurping)

Go eat a leg, Lecter.

Oh, who are we kidding?!

We're miserable
without him!

Even Grandma-ma
misses him.

(passing gas)

(sobbing)

I wonder what our
little Ajax is doing right now.

Ah, loli Taraxacum officinale,

how abundant are your spores?

(yelling)

What's happening to me?

* Oh, Ajax boy *

* The pipes, the pipes *

* Are calling *
(sniffing)

Did you know it smells like
decomposing animals

that were run over
on the freeway in here?

(flies buzzing)

Duckman, why
all the crying?

Did that lady wrestler
finally slap you

with a harassment suit?

ALL:
We miss Ajax!

(passing gas)

Norman Rockwell, on acid.

Duckman, you left this letter
from Ajax in the office.

He writes every day.

Sounds like he's having
a good time.

That's what it
sounds like,

but look at what
the first letter

of every word spells.

So what? It's gibberish.
Seemingly.

But viewed through a prism...

and reversed in a mirror,

it clearly reads...

Sometimes
after an electrical storm,

I see in five dimensions.

Why are the 60 of you
looking at me like that?

You hear that?
Ajax needs our help!

I'm coming, Ajax!

Daddy's coming to get you, son!

Just hold on.

Nothing's going to stop me
from rescuing you

from your living hell!

Ooh, Mr. Slurpee.

(tires screeching,
gears grinding)

Come on, baby!
Free game!

Uh, Duckman?

Yeah? Oh. Right.
Let's go.

(tires screeching)

(tires screeching)

Ajax, where are you, son?

We're here to save you.

Very touching.

(gasps):
You!

Byer, beware.

(rumbling, Duckman yelps)

(laughing)
Don't take it personally.

I do this to all my prey.

Allow me to introduce myself.

(gasps):
King Chicken!

You remembered.

How sweet.

(hissing)

That's right,
there is no Littlefield School.

It's all just
a facade, a sham--

even these buildings.

(crashing)

And I thought my apartment walls
were flimsy.

The students, professors--
all animatrons.

Robots.

Even Deana, that lovely coed?

Nope. I've never been able
to make breasts.

She's a Muppet.

Oh! To be Frank Oz
for a day.

What's this all about?!

Revenge!

I'm getting back at Duckman

by educating his son--
no easy task, to be sure,

but I'm doing it
through a renewed focus

on the empowerment of learning

and a return
to traditional discipline.

My God! You're sick!

You're employing
objective standards

instead of the coddling
of the individual?
Why, yes.

With attention to fundamentals,
drill work, repetition?

Oh, yes, yes.
Making the slow
students catch up

rather than slowing down
the fast students?

Don't stop. And...
And...

corporal punishment!
corporal punishment!

The slap of a cat-o'-nine-tails
on young skin.

The heft of a new
blackjack in your hand.

Three pound, or 5.2?

Oh, three pound
is for wimps.

Oh, my, you are
an enchanting creature.

Just someone who cares.

Uh, hello, Mr. and Mrs. Creepy!

Can we get back
to the subject of Ajax?!

Where is he?!
Is he okay?!

Easily answered.

(rumbling)

You get the Bouncing
Naked Flesh Channel on that?

(static hissing)

That's a trick question,
Professor.

No one element
has the highest valence.

Rather, osmium and ruthenium
share that distinction.

No...!

What's wrong, duckbreath?

Didn't want your son
to be a brainiac?

Of course I didn't.
If he's too smart...

You won't be able
to talk to him.

That's my plan-- to alienate
the only one in your family

you can relate to.

How? How did you...?

It's my business to know.

(static hissing)

Uh, people tell me
you're so stupid,

they're surprised you don't walk
on your knuckles.

But I just want you to know,

you're the only one in this
family I can understand.

You mean it?

You know, you're probably
my favorite dad.

Only.
Only what?

Only Dad.
Only Dad what?

(yells)

You can almost feel your brain
cells dying, can't you?

I demand that you
let us go!

Or what?

Well, uh, you know the one

where you take a bag
full of dog doo

and set fire to it?

Duckman,
why is he doing this to you?!

I'll tell you why.

We went
to school together.

I was always the smart one,
and for that reason alone

I was ridiculed,
picked on,

ostracized from
the rest of the children.

(sobbing)

And the leader
of this intolerant mob

was Duckman!

Hey, what's a little
laxative in your milk

before your
valedictory speech?

Because of you,
I was laughed at, isolated,

and my life of bright promise

was turned into a life
of vicious crime.

So I'm going to isolate you
from your own son

and let him see
what it feels like

to be ostracized
because of his genius.

(evil laughter)

(laughter continues)

You got to like
the way he stays cheery.

I have a plan.

(whispering)

Yoo-hoo! Kingy!

I was so enjoying our
talk about education

I was hoping we could plan
some extracurricular activity.

Has anyone ever told you

what a big, strong
broiler you are?

And your feathers--
they're baby-soft,

just like a little...

Pullet?

Well, you better
buy me dinner first.

(both laughing)

Baby.

(both laughing)

Your laughter's like music.

Uh, speaking of music,

we can perform a
whole symphony together

if you'll let me out.

I used to play the trumpet.

Hee-ya!

DUCKMAN:
Let's go get Ajax.

In the literary device
known as onomatopoeia,

words resemble
the sounds they describe, i.e.:

Splash, sizzle,

crack, splat,

shuffle, riffle,

and this tiny ringing sound.

Tinkle?

No, thank you.
I went earlier.

(screeching)
Don't worry, Ajax.

I've come to save you.

Dad.
Unfortunately,

due to my newfound intelligence,

I have nothing else
to say to you.

Exactly. It's too late
to save you.

Oh, yeah?
Come here, Chicken,

and prepare to meet
your Colonel.

AUNT BERNICE: Look out!
(crashing, Duckman yells)

Oof!

(grunts)

(King Chicken yells,
phone rings)

(clunking, Duckman grunting)

Take that!

I can't see.

This will get
the dust out.
(grunts)

What a woman.

(yells)

(creaking and crashing)

You're finished, King Chicken,
washed up.

Don't be surprised
if MTV Unplugged calls you.

Who's laughing now?

(evil laughter)

(yells)

Curses! Hoyled again.

You're safe now, son.

Good thing you sent
that secret message.

What secret message?

Oh. Right.
Like you're perfect.

We're sorry, Ajax.

We didn't know
this whole place

was a fake--
the building,

the headmaster,
the students.

Oh. That reminds me.

Dad, Aunt Bernice,
this is my friend Jeffrey.

If it's all right with you,
he's going to be coming

to our house
for Thanksgiving weekend.

Ajax! You're
not lost to us!

Having nothing to do with a
lack of faith in our abilities,

I had the foresight
to call the police.

Let's all go home.

It's time to get you
back to your old school

where you don't have
to be smart.

They like you
just the way you are.

Thanks, Dad.

Mark my words-- from now on,
you're going to receive

the same third-rate,
violence-plagued,

woefully under-funded
education

that is every
American child's right.

(engine starting)

Don't think you've seen
the last of me yet, Duckman.

(laughing and clucking)

(laughter continues)