All language subtitles for Cannibal.Women.In.The.Avocado.Jungle.Of.Death.1989.720p.BluRay.x264-.YTS.AG

We're lost.

No, we're not.
Look! Over there!

-Sam.
-Yeah?

I think we should head back.
We're getting' in too deep.

Aw, but...

Wait a sec. What's that I hear?

It sounds like... women!

Laughing!

-Let's get out of here.
-Aw, come on, man!

Don't be such a coward.
Let's check this out.

Look at them!

They're beautiful!

Aren't they the most lovely, sensuous,
inviting women you've ever seen?

-Let's get out of here.
-What, are you nuts?

Look at them!

They're dangerous!

They don't look dangerous.

They look lonely.

Well, I'm getting out of here.

Well, I'm going to go
introduce myself.

Yoo-hoo, ladies! Ladies!

Hello. Hi. Hi, girls.

Peace, peace?

Not peace, I mean, um, friends?

Come on, guys.

I just wanted an avocado.

Throughout history, the dominant
sex would subjugate the weaker.

Just as the Chinese bound the feet of young
girls to cripple them into helplessness,

so did the Amazon women break the
legs of boys to make them subservient.

Is it possible for men and
women to coexist as equals?

That's the subject we'll
tackle in our next class.

Dr. Hunt, I really love your class.

Well, thank you, Bunny.
You can call me Margo.

I like it so much, I've been thinking
about changing my major from home economics

to feminist studies, but I wasn't sure if
you had any feminist cooking classes.

I don't think we do, no.
Interesting thought, though.

The idea of being socially
conditioned to be a sex object.

Wait until I tell the girl
sat the sorority!

Bunny, I think you should
take a few more classes

in women's studies before you
decide to switch majors.

But, Dr. Hunt, I know I want to be a
liberated girl. I can just feel it in my toes!

It could be those pointy boots.

-Margo!
-Dean Stockwell.

Dr. Hunt, these gentlemen from the United
States government would like to talk to you.

This is Mr. Ford Maddox,
U.S. Department of Agriculture,

and Colonel Mattel, National Security
Commission, Avocado Affairs.

Avocado Affairs?

Miss Hunt, this is a a matter
of national importance.

We need to speak to you
immediately.

Alone.

Dr. Hunt, 98% of the avocados
produced in the United States

come from the state of California.

Most of these come from a jungle
area that spreads from Bakersfield

to the Mexican border.

The Avocado Belt.

I'm aware of that.
What does it have to do with me?

Miss Hunt,
maybe you don't get the point.

Avocados are vital to this
nation's security interests.

The Communists are already
in control of Nicaragua and

Guatemala, and El Salvador's
rife with revolution.

California is the last secure supply
of avocadoes in the free world.

We're on the verge of a major
avocado gap with the Soviet Union.

Back at the Kremlin, Gorbachev is
just chuckling over his taquitos.

I still don't see what that
has to do with me.

Doctor, have you ever taken
a loyalty oath?

Colonel, let me handle this.

As I was saying, most of the avocadoes
from the United States

come from the avocado belt,
but they're harvested

only on the perimeter of the jungle

because, as we all know, the interior
is completely wild and uncharted.

Anyone that strays too close to the heart
of the avocado jungle never returns.

Why?

That's a very good question, Bunny.

Perhaps Dr. Hunt would like
to answer it.

It's only a legend, really.

We're convinced that they're real.

Who?

The Piranha Women.

Piranha Women, who are they?

They're an ancient commune of
feminists, so radical, so militant,

so left of center, they...

They eat their men.

Oh, that. Well, if I like a guy,
I usually...

They don't eat their men
like that, Bunny.

More like a black widow spider.

They have sex with their men,
and they kill them.

Then they

tear them into strips like beef
jerky, and eat them with guacamole.

So legend has it.

They are more than a legend.
They're a major agricultural problem.

It used to be safe for avocado pickers to
venture within 20 miles of the jungle's edge.

But lately the Piranha Women
have broadened their hold.

No one is safe anywhere
in the avocado belt.

Well, if they're that much trouble,
why don't you just send in the troops

and round them up?

Colonel Mattel?

The fact is, we tried.

We sent in three divisions, armored
with air support.The best men we had.

And?

They got whupped.

They didn't play fair. Our men are trained
for state-of-the-art high-tech warfare.

Those Piranha Women were
using knives and spears.

The officers got confused,
and they, well...

We found these at the edge of the jungle.

-Dog tags?
-Look closely.

They're covered with guacamole dip!

-Ew.
-Ew.

Now do you get my point, Doctor?

Your sisters in the jungle are
eating the few and the proud!

Control yourself, Colonel.

Look, naturally we would
prefer a military solution.

But, frankly, the U.S. military
hasn't had a lot of luck

in jungle warfare lately.

So, we're forced to negotiate with the
Piranha Women. That's where you come in.

We want you to go into the jungle and
try to reason with these man-eaters.

I can't do that, Mr. Maddox.

We just want the Piranha Women to
move out of The Avocado Jungle,

to a reservation in Malibu.

Deluxe condominiums. Pool,
sauna, ample parking.

Total luxury living. We are even
willing, at the government's expense,

to convert the exercise room
so that they may maintain

their bizarre sacrificial rituals.
Let me come to the point.

We don't care if these girls
want to eat their men.

That's the Piranha Man's problem.

We just want the avocadoes.

And we're willing to pay for them.

I'm sorry,
the answer's still no.

It's just like you girls
to stick together.

Why don't you tell us the real reason
you're not gonna go into that jungle?

You'd like to see the United States
humiliated by a Communist avocado yield!

I think you'd like to eat me
right now, wouldn't you, Dr. Hunt?

-Dr. Hunt wouldn't...
-Colonel! Control yourself!

Dr. Hunt is a respected
middle-of-the-road feminist.

And I'm sure she'll be happy to cooperate
with us, especially when she considers

how much this university depends upon
grants from the Defense Department

for its space weaponry program.

And if Miss Hunt, Dr. Hunt, is still
unable to see the logic in assisting us,

why, I'm sure Dean Stockwell will
explain it to her. Won't you, Dean?

Now, now, now, gentlemen. I will
not tolerate tactics of this kind.

This university is a bastion
of intellectual freedom,

and I am sworn to protect that freedom.

I will not tolerate my professors
being coerced into anything

against their will, no matter how much
political pressure is put on me personally.

Margo, you will do exactly as they tell
you, or I will cut your funding off,

and you can kiss your tenure goodbye. Comprehendo?

M-hm.

The real question here is whether
or not this project is worthy of

Spritzer College's involvement.
What do you say, Doc?

I guess I'm going in the jungle.

That's terrific. Nice seeing you.

Thanks again for your help, Dean.

Oh, any time.

Mr. Maddox.

There's something
you're not telling me.

Why? What do you mean?

You don't expect me to believe
I'm the first feminist

you sent in to try to reason
with the Piranha Women.

What's really going on
in that jungle?

I suppose you have the right
to know the truth.

Two years ago, we sent into The Avocado Jungle
the leading feminist scholar, Dr. Kurtz.

Dr. Kurtz?

Internationally famous author of
Smart Women, Stupid, Insensitive Men?

Yes.

That explains her suddendis
appearance from the talk-show circuit.

What happened to her?

We really don't know. She may have been
killed, or perhaps they're holding her prisoner.

It was shortly after her expedition that
the Piranha Women went on the rampage.

Well, I guess, now that
you know, you refuse to go?

Quite the contrary.
Now I know I must go.

No, Bunny, you can't come.

But, Dr. Hunt,
why can't I go with you?

Bunny, look, nobody's ever returned
from The Avocado Jungle.

There'll be countless dangers
and perils along the way.

I can't take a sophomore
into the wilderness.

You don't have the skills
or training.

And, besides, you haven't even
finished your general ed requirements.

Now, I'm sorry, Bunny.
It's just too dangerous.

Bunny, baby! Hey,
good-looking! How you doing?

-Hi, Chuckie.
-Hi.

Bunny, babe, the super party boys at the
Delta Epsilon are having another super party

this Friday night.
You're not doing anything, are you?

Well, I wanted to do something,
but I guess I'm not.

Great! Great, look, this is going
to be a toga partyand a beer bust.

And, for special girls like you, we are
going to be having a wet t-shirt contest.

But all my t-shirts are dry.

Bunny! Don't worry about that. The fraternity
brothers, we're going to take care of you.

Did you ever do anymud wrestling?

-I...
-You're coming with me.

-I get to go?
-You'd be safer in the jungle.

Bye, Chuckie.

Patricia, have those filing
cabinets I orderedcome in yet?

No, I've had them on
back order for two weeks.

Hm. Never mind. I'm going to do some
field research, and I need some supplies.

Okay, three legal-size pads,
ten manila envelopes,

a Dictaphone recorder,
and four one-hour tapes.

I'll need a Bowie knife,
a first-aid kit,

100 feet of nylon mountain climbing
rope, a breach-loading revolver,

and holster.

A thousand rounds of ammunition.

Full metal jacket, hollow point,
or teflon coated?

Which do you think would be best for
fighting the dangers that lurk inside

a hostile jungle environment?

I would alternate hollow and
teflon bullets in the chamber.

That way, you have maximum stopping power,
but still armor-piercing capability.

Dr. Hunt! Yoo-hoo!

Yoo-hoo! I'm ready.

Oh, Bunny, don't you think you could have
worn something a little more practical?

We're going into uncharted jungle.

Well, I did prepare a flask
in my suitcase.

Well, never mind. If you get in
trouble you can wear something of mine.

Oh, good.

And I brought along some great
lingerie we can share.

Why do the Piranha Women
eat their men?

Well, primitive cultures often
use overly simplistic methods

of dealing withinter-tribal conflicts.

The Piranha Women probably figured that the
problems that arise between men and women

naturally in any relationship are
best solved by ritualized killing.

Do a lot of feminists eat men?

No, Bunny.

Well, not many.

You have to understand that
the Piranha Women are

a primitive, ancient, radical
offshoot of the women's movement.

And most feminists,
like myself and Dr. Kurtz,

we believe in equality between the sexes,
not the domination of women over men.

And there aren't any modern
feminists that advocate cannibalism.

At least not since the sixties.

San Bernardino. A rough speck of
civilization on the edge of the avocado belt.

We'll head down to some local establishments
and see if we can find a mercenary

to guide us through the jungle.

I've never been to
San Bernardino before.

Don't worry, Bunny,

we'll be all right.

Hey, chickies, can I buy you a drink?

No, thanks.

When I offer a chick a drink,
I ex...

I am not a chick.
I'm an ethnohistorian

with a doctorate in cultural
anthropology. Got that?

-Yes, Doctor.
-Good.

Now, I understand that your compulsion
to assaultwomen verbally

stems from a constant exposure
to violent and sexist images

from a male dominated media. Therefore,
I won't blow a hole in your head.

Thank you.

I'm from the department of feminist
studies at Spritzer College.

I want to hire a mercenary
for a very dangerous job.

I'm Anvil.

A crazy, ex-Vietnam vet who hires
himself out to the highest bidder.

I can rape, pillage, and napalm
an entire South Asian village

single-handedly.

I'm Bushito,
the world's greatest ninja.

I am a killing machine,
master of all the deadly arts.

And if you need a mercenary to
kill and to maim, I am the best.

I am the Black-Masked Avenger!
World-champion wrestler

and weight-lifter.
I don't need no weapons or guns.

I can crush men with my bare hands.

I can squish 'em, smash 'em
and throttle them! Look at this!

So, what is your job?

You wanna burn down a small town?

Attack an impenetrable fortress?

Or crush an army of enemies?

I need a guide to take
meto The Avocado Jungle.

The Avocado Jungle?

I want to make contact
with the Piranha Women.

The Piranha Women?

Excuse me, Miss, I've got to go to
the Veterans' Center for some counseling.

Maybe next time.

I forgot, I'm busy. There's a
showing of The Seven Samurai

tonight and... Bye.

I've got to go on Nutri system,
yes. Lose a little weight.

A jungle trip is out of
the question right now.

Well, let that be a lesson
to you, Bunny.

A bunch of violent brutes wrapped up
in a blanket of male machismo.

They're happy to victimize the helpless,
but one thing sends them scurrying away.

One thing strips their phony courage.
The threat of a strong woman.

Not so fast, Dr. Margo Hunt,
Ms. Ethnohistorian.

There's still some real men
left in this world,

men who haven't been cast rated by
the years of feminist propaganda that

corrupted the public school system
and infected prime-time television.

Men who believe that Nature designed
women to cook, nurture children

and pose for Penthouse Magazine.
Real men

who say our role in this world
is to love, protect

and, yes, I'm not afraid to
say it, dominate women.

I'll go into the avocado jungle with you.
I'll lead you to the Piranha Women.

I'm man enough to face the dangers that
lurk in the dark bosom of the jungle.

I'm not afraid of the Piranha Women

any more than I am of
a certain ethnohistorian who,

terrified of her own frailty
and need to be loved,

abandoned her femininity in a bizarre
charade of scholarship and androgyny.

Jim, what are you doing here?

You know him, Dr. Hunt?

Sure she knows me, Bunny. Dr. Hunt and
I are old friends, aren't we, Margo?

Well...

We were in love once, desperately
and passionately in love.

But that was a long time ago,
wasn't it, Margo?

Back when your mind wasn't filled
with bizarre feminist notions about

the meaninglessness of love.

Back then, you were the most giving,
passionate women I'd ever met in my life.

I turned my whole world
upside-down for you.

We share our innermost thoughts and
feelings. We made plans, big plans,

plans for a life together. And then you
dumped me flatbecause I didn't turn out

to be the sort of man who fit in
neatly with the feminist tommyrot

you were being force-fed
by your professors.

It was a one-night stand. I was half-drunk
and left right after we had sex.

We didn't say eight words to each other,
and all yours were composed of one syllable.

Ha! Just like you to count
the words, Dr. Hunt.

But what you never understood is there
are some feelings that can't be measured

in words, some moments that
last an eternity.

You toyed with my affections and, after
you crushed my heart, I crawled into

a whiskey bottle,
and I haven't come out since.

You left for Hawaii the next day
with the bimbo in the cafeteria.

Well, yeah, but I had made
that date a week before.

And, besides, the second
I got back from Hawaii, I...

I crawled into a whiskey bottle,
and I haven't come out since.

Ugh, let's go, Bunny.

Wait! You said you needed a guide.
Well, I'm the best.

Well, I've changed my mind.
We'll do without one.

Fat chance. You won't last ten
minutes in that jungle without me.

I can take care of myself.

Not in The Avocado Jungle, you can't.

Do you know what jungle herb cures the
poisonous bite of the river snake?

Do you know where the only land
route is around the waters of death?

Do you know the way through the secret maze
caves that lie underneath Hangman's Cliff?

Huh? Do you?

Well, no, I don't. Do you?

Well, no, but I have this paperback.

I'll buy my own book.

It's out of print.

You as a guide? How much?

Oh, isn't that fine! Just like you to
treat me like a gigolo and offer me money,

after all we meant to each other.

-How much
-$25,000.

-Forget it. -Fifty bucks?

Okay.

That's fifty, plus expenses.

Now, Jim, I don't care what happened
to us before. That's all in the past.

I've hired you as a guide with the
understanding that our relationship will be

strictly professional
from here on in.

Whatever you say, honey buns.

Get out.

Okay. Okay, you're right.
I just slipped.

Strictly professional. If that's the
way you want it, that's the way it'll be.

I'll be good, really. I promise.

I guess sharing a sleeping bag
is out, then?

This is it. The Avocado Jungle.

It doesn't look like a jungle.

Hm. The outer regions
aren't very overgrown,

but the foliage gets
thicker the deeper you go.

We're going to have to leave the
jeep here and continue on foot.

Yeah, well, you girls better
hang back. This could be dangerous.

We don't want to make any misstep.

Oh, geez!

Are you okay?

Yeah. Yeah,
just checking the tires.

Yeah, they're good.
I'll look at the oil later.

He wrecked my nails.

Here it is. The Avocado Jungle.
Look around you, Bunny.

In front of us, the lush, untouched
rainforest of the last surviving matriarchy.

Behind us, the polluted patriarchy
of Western civilization.

We're leaving a world dominated by
men and entering one ruled by women.

Whup-de-doo. Just keep bashing men.
In a couple of days, you'll be

dying for a Burger Kingout here.

I doubt it.

Yeah, you women are always
bitching and moaning about

men and the way we run things, but,
let's face it. Who could have ever invented

but a man, the 64 GTO? Or, for
that matter, the Corvette Stingray,

any year, any model? All you
women have ever done is, what?

Some French chick invented
kryptonite or something.

The important things like beer
and meat, that was all men.

Yeah, it's hard to imagine
a woman inventing nuclear weapons.

Exactly.
And where would webe without them?

The Nazi blitzkrieg seemed
like a male idea, not to mention

South African apartheid.
How about World War I? The Crusades?

The Spanish Inquisition?
The rape of Shanghai?

So men have done a lot of things.

-Elvis Presley.
-Janis Joplin.

-Patton.
-Joan of Arc.

How about Tammy Bakker?

Jim Bakker, Jerry Falwell,
Jimmy Swaggart.

Jessica Hunt, Fawn Hall...

Josephy McCarthy.
Richard Nixon.

Joan Rivers.

Joan Rivers? I like Joan Rivers.
I think she's funny.

Well, I think Nixon's funny.

Jim, what are you doing?

Hacking out a trail through
the underbrush.

A trail? You're just hacking
at branches on the side.

Yeah, but I just bought the machete.
It seemed likea shame not to use it.

Anyway, it's good practice for when
the jungle really gets thick, you know?

Sometimes I swing two or three,
then it's really light.

I think you look really
handsome with a machete.

Well, thank you, Bunny.

Come on, you two. We've gota lot
of ground to cover before night.

Girls in front of boys.

-No, no. Boy, girl, boy, girl.
-No.

No, that's the way you do it in the jungle.

No!

Hey. Want some?

Yeah.

What is that?

Pina colada.

Where's Bunny?

That's funny. She was right...

-Bunny?
-Bunny!

-Bunny!
-Bunny!

Kitty? Oh, you're so sweet.

Kitty? Here. Oh!

Good kitty. Nice kitty.

Are you lost? Huh?

Where's your home?

What do you like to eat?

Ooh, look at your eyes!

Bunny!

Oh, no.

Bunny!

Bye.

Bye.

Coming!

Bunny!

Bunny!

Oh, her curling iron.

And her Indiana Jones lunch box.

Bunny!

Whoa! Look at all this stuff! Milk Duds,
Good 'N Plenty, Nutty Buddies!

I had a feeling she was
holding out on us.

Bunny!

I just found a big kitty.

Where have you been? Don't you know
it's dangerous in the jungle?

Didn't you know it's dangerous
to hold out on your friends?

-Give me that.
-Ow!

Do you have a band-aid?

You don't have any idea
where we are?

Of course I know where we are.
I know exactly where we are.

Oh, good.

We're...

Let me see that.

Honey, honey, honey, please!

I know you think you know
everything about everything,

but when it comes to reading maps,
I happen to be an expert.

All right. Now, our best chance of
finding the Piranha Women is to take

the Rio Santa Rosa river. It runs
the length of The Avocado Jungle,

and it is, I believe, their
primary source of fresh water.

Well, maybe we can build
a raft and float downstream.

Yeah, good. Whatever. All right.
Now, according to my calculations,

with the north star overhead,

and the moon rising easterly, and
allowing for a wind factor of five,

the river should be approximately
23.6 miles away.

It should take us about
two days to get there.

Twenty-three miles?

But the jungle is so lush and green
around here. Are you sure it's not closer?

I mean...

Sweetie, sweetie, sweetie, please!

If there's one thing I know,
it's how to read a map.

Now, if you will excuse me,
I'm gotta to go to the little boy's room.

Make yourselves busy.
God, women! You know?

They think they know
about everything...

I think he found the river.

Maybe that isn't the North Star.

They're all dry now, but I want
to get the wrinkles out.

Maybe you could put a neat military
crease across the front panels

of the pants and shirt.

Oh, sure!

You sure are a good little
homemaker, Bunny.

Thanks. I've been taking home
economics for two years now.

But I'm switching my major
to feminist studies.

What do you want to do that for?

I want to expand my mind.

Hm. Why?

Gee, I don't know. Maybe I could become
the first woman president or something.

I followed the river
for about half a mile.

There's the wreckage of
small boat near the shore.

Now, if it's salvage able,
we could use it to travel downstream.

I wonder what it was doing
this deep into the jungle.

The Patna.

You know it?

Yes. Yes, I know it.

It was a long, long time ago.
I was young, very young, and stupid.

Very stupid. I made a mistake.
A nasty business.

I panicked, got drummed out
of the Merchant Marine.

I spent the next three years of my life
criss-crossing the globe, trying to live it down.

I'm sorry.
I don't want to talk about it.

Whatever.

After that, I crawled
into a whiskey bot...

Ah, Jim, please!
Not the whiskey bottle again.

Poor Jimmy doesn't have a tent.

Bunny, he'll be all right.
It's a warm night.

Listen. Isn't that beautiful?

He is awfully good.

You're kind of tough on him.

Yeah.

He said he loved you.

I doubt that. And it never
would have worked out.

He's an egotistical, chauvinistic klutz.

I think he's kind of cute.

Well, maybe I am a little hard on him.

Bunny, it's just that here
presents my failures.

Failures? You?

Sure, we all have them. Can I tell you
a secret I've never told anyone before?

Sure.

In a way, Jim is right.
I am afraid of men.

My relationships have been, well,
I've had a lot of one-night stands.

A little to drink, you know,
to give myself an excuse,

and I subconsciously fall for jerks I know
I'll never be emotionally involved with.

It's all so empty.
Passionless, really.

I guess deep down I'm afraid

that there can never be any respect or
equality between the sexes. Not really.

I've avoided commitment because
I'm afraid I'll be

emotionally dominated by my lover or,
equally as sad, that I'd dominate him.

I guess that seems kind of strange, huh?

Can I tell you something, too, Dr. Hunt?
Something I've never told anybody before?

Of course, Bunny.
I'm glad we got to share this.

Well, sometimes when I'm with a guy, I wish
that he'd tie me up with red licorice ropes

and then spank me, and then
he'd eat the ropes,

and then he'd free me, and then we'd make
love while the Philharmonic played Bolero.

Thank you, Bunny. You really
put my thoughts in perspective.

I feel better, too.

Hey, you want some red licorice?

No, thanks.

How about you, Bun?
Come on, it's a foot-long.

Start on the end.
I'll meet you in the middle.

No, thanks.

Suit yourself.

Let's see if this boat floats,
huh? What do you say?

And over here on the left, we have
the tribal headhunter and trader.

He's got a special for us today.
It's a two-for-one.

Two of his heads for one of yours.
Do we have any takers?

Boy, this is incredible.
You've memorized the entire speech

in the jungle boat ride at Disneyland.

That'll be useful.

I can do the Tiki Room, too.

-You know everything!
-Can you steer a boat?

Hey, I know Adventureland
like the back of my hand.

Of course, this jungle can't
be much different.

What was that?

Something went under the boat.
Something big.

Ah, it's probably just a rock.

Hardly.

A hippo, look!

A hippo? In California?

The Palm Springs hippo. It's a lighter
version than its African cousin

because of the low-cholesterol
diet. But it's just as deadly.

Oh, my God!
It's trying to get the boat!

-We're going to die!
-Man the helm!

Don't let it broadside us, Jim!
Hard to port! Hard to port!

Port? Is that left or right?
I...

Left! Left!

Is it dead?

I think so.

Boy! Did its ears wiggle when it
started to get close to us?

Yeah, their ears wiggle
when they're angry.

Yeah.

This is not the Disneyland
jungle boat ride!

Get real, folks,
we were almost killed!

Sh!

Someone's in the bushes.

I hear something.

The Piranha Women?

Oh, Lordy!

Get down!

They're attacking! Oh!

I'm coming!

Where does it hurt?

I can't tell.
I think I'm in shock.

-Am I bleeding?
-No.

What was it that did me in?
A rock, a spear,

an arrow?

It looks like a knitted
potholder to me.

It looks like a doily.

It's a crocheted pot holder.

Boy, those Piranha Women are
stupider than I thought.

What do they think they're going
to get attacking us with doilies

and pot holders, and placemats?

You know, women today are just
not the way I thought they would be.

Well, I don't think
it's the Piranha Women.

Whoever it is, they're gone now.

Let's go investigate.

Wait! They could have flatware.
It might be dangerous.

Why would someone attack us
with pot holders?

Well, maybe it wasn't meant
as an attack.

Maybe it was meant as an offering.

An offering?

-You don't mean...
-Yes.

Who?

Oh, let's go back to the boat.

No, we can't go back. We want to be
the first outsiders ever to make contact.

They're disgusting!
Who?

They're not disgusting.

You think that anyone that chooses
to live their life differently than you

is disgusting. Well, different lifestyles
have different traditions, Jim.

So do worms, but I don't have
the stomach to look at them.

Who?

It's just a legend, really.
But in The Avocado Jungle,

there's a tribe of men who live
apart from the Piranha Women...

And I'm cowering in fear of them.

They have different cultures, Jim.
They're really very caring and nurturing.

They're a bunch of weenies!

They make pot holders?

Well, they make baked goods,
sew their own clothes,

and they leave out handicrafts for the Piranha
Women, and, in return, they don't eat them.

Kind of a symbiotic relationship.

Kind of an idiotic relationship,
is more like it.

What are they called?

The Donnahews.

Come on out! Don't be afraid!

We won't eat you!
We promise!

Don't be afraid! Look!

I'm an ethnographer.

What wimps!

It's a different culture, Jim.

I think they're sweet.

Thank you, it's beautiful!

Donnahew, Alan Alda,
Mark Harmon, Walter Mondale.

Get off of me, you wuss!
Get away!

Ugh! I'm not getting on my knees!
Great suffering!

Man, they're just a couple of chicks!

Donnahew?

Oh, thank you, no, I'm stuffed.
Really. It was all delicious, though.

Alan Alda?

Thank you, no.

Oh, yes, thank you.

This tuna fish casserole is a dream.
And the stuffed bell peppers,

they're so good.
Aren't they really good cooks?

Really good wimps, is what they are.

Why does it bother you so much
to see men cooking and

performing tasks generally relegated
to women? They seem happy enough.

You act as if your own masculinity
were threatened because another man

performs a supposedly
feminine task.

Why can't you just be yourself
and let them be who they are?

Because... Sorry, pal.

Because no man can be truly happy acting
as a house maid to a bunch of man-eaters.

Cooking and sewing just aren't
in the male hormones.

These poor, desperate wretches don't know
any better because they don't have any

role models,
like John Wayne or Stallone.

-If they did...
-They'd be violent,

emotionally repressed,
and narrow-minded.

Just like my heroes.
Strong and masculine and virile.

Hey, buddy, you got any of that kiwi
tart left? And can I get a chair?

Oh, my! It's beautiful!
Oh, you made it yourselves?

It's wonderful but, really, I... My apartment
is so small, I... Really, I couldn't.

Nice, though. Very nice.

I have a lot of fantasies about
being tied up and spanked.

I suppose it isn't very
liberated, is it?

What kind of fantasies
do feminists have?

Bunny, please go to sleep! We have to get
up early and look for the Piranha Women.

What kind of fantasies do Piranha
Women have? Eating men, I suppose.

Charbroiled or baked?

Donnahew, Alan Alda.

Oh, great. I could use a drink.

What is this? Hot chocolate?

Men don't bring other men
hot chocolate!

Guys, this is no way to live.

What's killing me, is I know that,
deep inside, every last one of you beats

the heart of a virile,
macho, manly man.

And I'll be damned if I sitidly by
and watch you all waste away your lives

as a bunch of sniveling,
cowardly wimps.

Tonight I'm going to teach
you all how to be men.

And I know just how to do it.

Beer!

There! See what it is to be a man!

Huh? Take it! Do it! Come on,
I know you want it! Be a man!

Do it! Beer!

Come on, you're the chief.
Show 'em what you got.

Come on, boys, pass 'em out!
Beer!

Beer! Beer! Beer! Beer!

-Beer!
-Beer!

-Beer!
-Beer!

Beer! Beer! Beer!
Beer! Beer! Beer!

Come on, guys, keep drinking. There's
plenty more where that came from.

All right. Now, we're going to have
a little pop quiz here on what we learned.

So, pay attention. Eyes front.

Now, what's that?

-Beer.
-Yeah, all right, good.

Here we go. What's that?

-Penthouse!
-Yeah, okay. What's that?

Key chain.

Right on. Good men.

All right. Now, let's take
a little scenario, here.

Let's say you're riding down
the street in your Corvette,

you got one hand on the wheel, palming it,
you got one eye out looking for the cops.

You spot out of the corner of your eye,
walking down the street in some sexy hot pants,

some buxom teen talent.

You know, a dame.
A girl, a broad, a wench.

A woman! So, what do you do?

No, no get back! You don't run
and hide!Get back there!

You know, what do you do?

No, no, you don't offer them
knitted products! Men don't knit!

You yell out to her!
You yell out, "Hey, sexy mama!

"Hey, love machine! You want to
go for a ride in my 'vette?"

So, let's try it, all right?
Okay? Hey, sexy mama!

Hey, sexy mama!

Hey, love machine!

Hey, love machine!

That's it. You want to go
for a ride in my 'vette?

You want to go
for a ride in my 'vette?

Yeah! That was pretty good. All right.
Go ahead, boys, you earned another swig.

Ah...

Yeah.

Hey, fellas, take five.

Excuse me, hi. I heard all
the noise, and I couldn't sleep,

so I thought maybe you wanted me
to make you some hot chocolate.

-Chick.
-Broad.

-Sexy mama!
-What?

Hey, baby! You want to go
for a ride in my 'vette?

I don't know, where's it parked?

Hey, love machine, let's do it dirty.

Love machine? What happened to tuna
fish casseroles and needle point?

I mean, all I came out here
was to ask for somehot chocolate...

Dr. Hunt! No! Dr. Hunt!

-Let go of Bunny.
-No!

What are you doing out here?

Look, I'm sorry, all right?
I'm sorry. I mean it, I'm sorry.

It's just that we had a party and
the boys got a little out of control.

Out of control?
They tried to gang rape Bunny.

And I didn't get any hot chocolate.

Gang rape her, huh? Boy,
I didn't know they had it in them.

Jerk.

I'm sorry. I didn't mean it
that way. I meant...

Bunny, you know what
I meant, right?

I guess so.

It's just that, considering how
faggy they were acting, it's just

kind of delightful to see them finally
taking a healthy interest in the opposite sex.

God! A healthy interest to
you means a violent one.

Oh, yeah, like your little Piranha
Women don't resortto violence.

They only kill,
slice up and eat men.

Quite right, and I'm beginning to
think they've got the right idea.

Oh, fudge a duck!
The propeller's stuck again.

There's too much grass in this area.

Look, we're just going to have to drag
it downstream where there's deeper water.

Drag it?

Yeah, drag it.
You got us into this mess.

Oh! You mean we have
to get in the water!

I didn't even bring any trunks.

-Hey.
-Yeah.

-Ew! Ew!
-What, what, leeches?

-No, catfish.
-Catfish? Catfish don't bite.

I know, but they swish all around
my ankles, and it feels icky.

I always hated catfish,
even as a kid.

There's no ickier feeling than
catfish swishing around.

I mean, what if one crawled up
my pants like...

Oh, shut up with the catfish! If you want to
get back in the boat, get back in the boat.

Margo, me thinks thou
doth protest too much.

What's that supposed to mean?

You're always mad at me,
you're always yelling at me.

I'm sure a big doctor like you knows that,
underneath that meanness, you're just hiding

your true feelings.

Ha! Which is?

That you really love me.

I don't love you,
I don't even like you!

Humph! Then why is your voice
quivering as you say that?

My voice is not quivering.

Yes, it is. It is. You can always
tell when a woman's in love

because her voice quivers
when she speaks.

My voice is not quivering!

Why are you getting so emotional?

-I'm not emotional.
-It's quivering again.

I'm not emotional or quivering.

Margo, are you getting your period?

No, I'm not getting my period. It's not
due for two weeks. Why am I telling you this?

Because I care, dammit!

Jim, there's a leech on your neck.

Ugh! Ew! Ew! Leech!

Hey, are you guys
having a water fight?

No, we're not having
a water fight.

That's when I decided
to start my own business.

Everybody said I was crazy,
but taking orders from others,

that's just not the way
the Jim man is made.

Hey, Margo, have some of this. It's great.
It's a great dip. It's guacamole.

Of course, it's guacamole! I'm sick
of guacamole! I'm sick of avocadoes!

I want meat.

Ha! I told you you'd want
a Burger King out here.

Or maybe a nice juicy steak,
or some meat loaf, or...

Quit looking at me like that.

Hey!

You want to eat me, don't you?

I didn't say that.

You were thinking it. I can see that
look in your eye. You want to eat me!

Only for a minute.

Moderate feminist!
You women's libbers are all alike.

A couple of days out here in the
jungle, and you turn into savages!

You throw away all that
rhetoric about equality,

and you get down to what you really want.
The domination and consumption of men.

I'm sorry!
I'm hot, and I'm tired,

and I lost my head for a moment!

Or maybe you found your true
self. Take a look at her, Bunny.

Take a good, hard look.
She wants to eat me.

See for yourself what the women's
movement is really all about.

That's it! You're dead meat!

No, no. Honey! Help. Hey,
honey, chill. Chill, really.

Come on. Why don't you have
some choice Donnahew meat, huh?

I'm sure they'd be pleased
to be eaten by you.

Chauvinistic pig! Let's see what
you look like with some real...

Don't eat him, Dr. Hunt!

Oh, my... I'm losing my mind.

It's this jungle.
I'm just losing my mind.

Well, with having your period
and everything...

We've got to go back.
We're going back.

We've just gone too deep into the
heart of the jungle. We're going back.

It's a little too late for that, Margo.

I think they found us.

Cute outfits!

Maybe, but they don't
look too friendly to me.

Don't worry.

What have you got?
Grenade? Gun?

No, something all feminist
cultures will understand

no matter how radical or how primitive.
My N.O.W. membership card.

-What did she say?
-I'm not sure.

It's a strange, difficult language.

Listen, I am looking for Dr. Kurtz.
Do you understand me? Dr. Kurtz.

Kurtz?

Yes, Dr. Kurtz.
Can you take me to her?

Get your stuff.

The secret temple of the Piranha Women.

Their architecture
is surprisingly advanced.

It looks like a big Lego to me.

This must be the altar roomwhere they...

Eat guys?

Yeah.

Hey, look. A vegetable juice spa.
This must be great for the complexion.

-Jim, don't.
-What?

Bunny, hand me one of those Fritos.

-What is it?
-A piranha. The real thing.

This must be where the Piranha
Women dispose of the fat and bones

of their male sacrifices.

Very good, Dr. Hunt.
That's quite correct.

Francine Kurtz. Then you are alive.

And she's got one of those
cute outfits on.

I have more than just the outfit, Bunny.

The Piranha Women have christened
me Empress of The Avocado Jungle.

I am their supreme ruler.

Empress?

I knew the Avocado Board
would send someone after me,

but I never suspected it
would be another feminist.

After I did away with the army...

You mean to say you led those
Piranha women against the soldiers?

Of course. They violated our
jungle sanctuary. They had to die.

They were pretty delicious, too.

Dr. Kurtz, I am unfamiliar with
the academic guidelines at Radcliffe,

but I would think any major university
would consider warring on the United States

and eating prisoners of war
a serious breach of ethics.

Always the cautious scholar,
huh, Dr. Hunt?

I'm not here to study the
Piranha Women. I'm here to lead them.

The future of feminism lie
sin this temple.

You're saying the future of
women is in cannibalism?

Face up to the truth! This is a war!
A war between men and women.

Anything short of cannibalism
is just beating around the bush.

Well, it's obvious the Avocado
Board sent the wrong scholar

to deal with the Piranha Women.

And you're so obviously
the right one.

An academic so naive, so trusting,

she actually believes
there's an avocado shortage.

Yes. That's what they told me, too.

But I was suspicious enough to do
a little research into the matter.

The fact of the matter is, the
United States has a massive avocado glut.

They're dumping avocados by
the ton into Santa Monica Harbor

just to get rid of them.

But if that's the case,
then why send me?

You're an ethnohistorian.
Use your head.

It's not the avocados the government is
worried about, it's the Piranha Women.

The reactionary male factions
are terrified of them.

Terrified of the example a nation
of strong women might set

for the rest of the country.

After they succeeded in
stopping the ERA,

in the wake of a mainstream
feminist backlash,

they figured it was the perfect time
to wipe out the Piranha Women for good.

But the reservations in Malibu?

They're there all right.
I did some research into those, too.

Deluxe condominiums.

Pool, sauna, total luxury living.

Only what they didn't tell you about, were
the thousands of subscriptions to Cosmopolitan

that were timed for delivery when
the Piranha Women took up residence.

Not to mention the team of Mary Kay
cosmetics saleswomen who were ready

to pounce upon them.

They had a secret plan for doing
away with the Piranha Women.

Something far more sinister
than armored division of infantry.

Cultural assimilation.

Yes.

Within five years, the Piranha Women would
have been just a bunch of bikini bunnies

bouncing around Malibu,
looking for a good sushi bar.

I know a great sushi bar in Malibu.
You go down Sunset, turn right at PCH and

You see? They would have
all ended up... like her.

Now that you're here, you have
only one choice. To join with us.

Become a Piranha Woman.

I can't do that.

Although I'm discouraged,

I can't give up hope that there
will be equality between the sexes.

I cannot allow you to leave the jungle
and reveal the secrets of the Piranha Women.

You either join us,
or you all die together.

Then kill us. Because I'd rather die
than compromise my ethical standards.

Hey! Speak for yourself. I'm sure we could
round-table this whole thing and come up...

You, idiot male, will die anyway.

You look a little tough, but I suppose
if you were marinated before cooking...

Take him.

Marinated? Sweetie, that's carcinogenic.
You don't want to... Bunny!

Jim!

Help me!

Take Dr. Hunt also.

You're outnumbered, Margo. There are
a thousand Piranha Women in this temple.

You haven't got a chance.

You let my friends go,
or I'll shoot you first.

Go ahead.
Fire on a fellow feminist.

Fire on a fellow anthropologist.

You may not personally agree with my
tactics, but you know my only goal

is to help the Piranha Women
maintain their cultural heritage.

Go ahead and shoot.

Shoot her! Do it! Give the
woman what she wants!

It will take some time to make the
preparations for your initiation into the tribe

of Piranha Women. I will give you until
tomorrow morning to make your decision.

If you agree to join us,
you will sacrifice your first man.

If you do not agree, you will be thrown
into the piranha pit, and you will die.

Painfully.

Take her.

Take the airhead, too.

Jim!

Bunny, don't worry.
You'll save me!

Hi. Hey, I hope you know that crack
about shooting you was just a joke.

That's me, always with a...
Nonstop, the whole trip. I'm...

Have they told you how great you
look in that dress, because that's...

See, it's feminine, and
feminist, which is my cause.

Really, feminism. I thought Geraldine
Ferraro, for example, creamed Bush

in that debate. She...

You're gonna cook up real good.

Put him with the rest of the men.
Tomorrow, we eat him.

You know, I've got
a subscription to Ms.

I'm gonna be in with
your lunch meat, huh?

Those guys must be bigger wimps
than the Donnahews.

All right, I'm going,
I'm go... Oh!

Can I interject one thing?

Now, I'm not saying this
just to save my hide,

but talking strictly
nutritional requirements,

if you girls are eating only men, you cannot
possibly be getting everything you need

from the four basic food groups.

Gee! You guys are pretty big
for wimps! Of course,

the joke's on you when those
broads come back and start

picking out ingredients
for chicken McMacho.

Anybody got a smoke?

I brought you some food.

Who are you?

I'm Jean-Pierre,
your sacrifice for tomorrow.

It is traditional in the
tribe of the Piranha Women

for the sacrificee to serve his
mistress the night before the ceremony.

And you speak English?

Some.

I learned it from listening
to Dr. Kurtz.

Well, you must be very smart
to have picked it up so quickly

without any formal training.

Alas, intelligence in males is
not valued by the Piranha Women.

Only muscle tissue.

Well, you certainly have
plenty of that.

They force us to work out with weights.
It makes the meat more flavorful.

Please, eat.

Oh, thank you. I am hungry.

Mm! Very good.

I'm glad. He was a friend
of mine. Jacques.

This stuff is really good.

Chew but tasty. Kind of like
lean pork. What is it?

Jacques.

Is that one of those
beef substitutes? Huh?

Whatever it is, it sure is good.
You work out on a Nautilus?

Got any more dip?

I'd like to speak to Jean-Pierre.

Where is Jean-Pierre?

Oh, he's a friendof yours, huh?

Well, don't worry, I won't kill him.
God knows I won't eat him.

There's your sacrifice. If you wish to
become a Piranha Woman, you must first take

his body, and then his life.
What is your decision?

I refuse to kill another human
being in cold blood.

However, in deference to
your cultural traditions,

I would be willing to have
sex with him.

Forget it. If you want your cake,
you'll have to eat it.

If you do not use this dagger to
draw his blood, I will have you thrown

into the piranha pit.

I won't join your tribe, and
I appeal to you as a member of

the National Academy of Sciences,

to release me and my friends
and allow us to go on our way.

No! I want to be a Piranha Woman.

Bunny, what are you saying?

I want to be a Piranha Woman.

Bunny, dammit, I knew
I shouldn't have brought you.

You haven't had enough women's
studies core classes.

You're being seduced by the simplicity
of the Piranha Women's philosophy.

No I haven't! I just want one
of those cute outfits.

Bunny, listen to me.

Silence her.

Are you sure you want to
become a Piranha Woman?

Yes.

Are you willing to partake in
the blood sacrifice initiation?

Well, if you mean to have sex with
a guy and then kill him, sure.

I'll try it. I've done weirder
things at frat parties.

Then I will allow you to
become a Piranha Woman,

on one condition.

He shall be your sacrifice.

Well, now you've gone too far,
Dr. Kurtz.

I happen to be a pretty good judge of human
nature, and as far as our Bunny goes, well,

the poor kid happens to be nuts
about me. She would never...

Sure, I'll kill him.

Prepare them both for sacrifice.

Tootles.

-What?
-Just do it.

The sacrifice has escaped!
Kill him!

Quick, this way.

Stop them! Kill them!

Jump! I can fight them
off from here.

Oh, no. You're coming with me.

No, it's more important that you escape.

Jean-Pierre, will you stop being
a sacrifice? Now, come with me.

Jean-Pierre! Jean-Pierre!

Jean-Pierre. Dammit,
the first decent guy I...

So, this is why Piranha Women
have red hair, huh? Huh?

Hm. Gee, I hope this dye isn't
going to make my hair frizz.

Do you have any conditioner for that?

You know, actually, I was thinking maybe
we could go a little shorter this time

in the cut if that's okay with you.
Or maybe, if we keep it red, I should just

keep it long, because then I'll look like
Tiffany, and actually I was thinking about

taking up singing, so...

Hey, have I told you girls how
terrific you look? Great loins.

Hey, what are you doing? Hey, wait,
whoa, whoa! Can I say one thing?

One thing. I'd rather have you
kill me than make me a gelding.

We had a dog once that we fixed,
and he was just never happy.

Hey, can't we be reasonable about this?
I mean, we're all people here, Piranhas,

non-Piranhas.

Hey! What's this?
A little hot tub action, huh?

Maybe I misjudged you girls. I think
I might actually like this place.

Oh, yeah!

That's nice.

Hey, you know, you're not such
bad young ladies after all.

Probably just had a rough childhood, right?

Smoked a lot of pot in high school,
parents were divorced, that kind of thing?

Oh, yeah. Oh, that's good.
A little lower. A little lower.

That's the spot. Now make circles.

Just kidding.

I see at least a couple of you girls know
how to treat a man around this crazy temple.

You know, a lot of you Piranha gals,
you probably just never met the right guy.

And I bet you you're terrific cooks.
Something around here smells fabulous!

I think it's this bath water. This would
make a hearty soup base, wouldn't it?

Hey! What's up, Doc?

What goes...

Hey! What...

Oh, my God, you're marinating me!
Hey! Let me out!

We are the Barracuda Women. We are
the sworn enemies of the Piranha Women.

If you are escaping from them,
you must be our friend.

Thousands of years ago, the Piranha Women
and the Barracuda women were as one.

But we split over ideological differences.

What were they?

The Piranha Women believe that men should
be slaughtered and eaten with guacamole dip.

And you think that's wrong?

Yes!

We believe they should be
eaten with clam dip.

That's it? Clam dip?

It's a fundamental principle.

You people have been divided for thousands
of years because of a kind of dip?

Oh, that really makes me mad!

Why is it women always argue
over such petty differences?

It's no wonder we couldn't
get the ERA passed.

Men can always seem to
agree on football and beer.

Well, that's it!

We are going back to
the Piranha Women's temple.

The women of this jungle must unite.

And I'm going to settle a score with
a certain renegade ethnographer.

I think I'm going to like
being a Piranha Woman.

What you do, is you set up a joint
committee consisting of equal numbers of

Piranha Women and Barracuda Women,
you meet biweekly,

air any differences that might
arise, and it's really that simple.

So, what we'll do,
is we'll organize a...

Onward, women!

Come on, move it!

Kurtz's field notes.

It's an outline for a book!

Okay, let's see. So, she's going
to make love to me, that's good.

Then she's going to kill me
and eat me. That's bad.

Why can't I ever have
a completely good day?

Here, Bunny. Drink of the elixir
of the Piranha Women.

Let the sacrifice begin!

Bunny, please! Put away that knife.
You don't know what you're doing.

This whole crazy jungle's
got you all mixed up.

I know what I'm doing.
I want to become a Piranha Woman.

Oh, my God. Your eyes!

That strange elixir of the Piranha Women
has changed the color of your eyes!

No, it hasn't. Green contacts, stupid.
Now, shut up while I sacrifice you.

Sorry I have to kill you.

I really did think you were
kind of cute.

Bunny, please don't.
Please don't kill me.

I have to.

What did Margo say?

Oh, yeah. The song.

The song.

Bolero...

Kill him. Now!

Kill him!

-I can't.
-Do it!

I can't. I love him.

Throw them both in the piranha pit.

I'll be a bit. That water really
is gonna stain this outfit.

Wait!

What now?

According to the traditions
of the Piranha Women,

I challenge the Empress of The Avocado Jungle
to a battle for the right to the throne.

That is your right, but I warn you,
Margo, you haven't got a chance.

We'll see.

You handle yourself fairly well.

I studied ancient weaponry
at Berkeley.

Professor Harris?

No, Professor Johnson.

Really? I had Professor Johnson
at Stanford.

Enough preliminaries.

Why don't you tell the Piranha Women
the real reason you became their leader.

What are you talking about?

I found your study.

I read your notes.
The outline for your book?

You don't care about
the Piranha Women.

You just want to write a
book about your experiences.

That's not true.

My Life as a Piranha Woman
by Francine Kurtz? Catchy.

It should make the best-seller list.

They media hype from your
last book was fading.

You needed something new to
get back on the talk-show circuit.

Isn't that right?

Well, what better than an expose
on the Piranha Women's lives?

Think Margo will win?

Yeah. Do you have any of
those red licorice ropes?

Sure, in my backpack. Why?

We'll discuss it later.

You were going to exploit their
culture and traditions for a cheap

paperback potboiler. A kiss,
sacrifice and tell book.

All right. Anybody want to
get action on Margo?

The point spread is three
against Dr. Kurtz.

Huh? Anybody in on this?

-Sh!
-Chicks...

It's true. I was planning a book.
But it was going to be a scholarly work.

Oh, hardly, Kurtz!

You've spent too much time in the jungle.
You've become a primitive yourself.

I read your notes. Your field
methodology is sloppy,

your conclusion's shaky, even Sher Height
couldn't get away with the generalizations

you make in your outline.

You're no better than the
chauvinists who sent us here.

You'd exploit the Piranha Women
for your own aggrandizement.

You don't understand. I had...

-Francine, the pool. Watch it.
-Stay back!

You don't understand.

I had to do it.

I'd been on the talk-show circuit
for six months. The token feminist.

The butt of every bra-burning joke.

You don't know what it's like trying
to face David Letterman with a book

on male insensitivity.

I needed something more.

I thought, "Piranha Women.
Cannibalism."

Who could laugh at me then?

-Oh, Francine...
-Stay back!

You're right. I was exploiting
the Piranha Women.

You don't know what it was like.

David Letterman, the horror!

The horror!

The horror of that show!

Francine!

You're very wise, Dr. Hunt. Now all
the women of the jungle shall be united.

Well, now that you are united, you may
want to reconsider your relationships

with the men in your tribe.

There are other ways of relating
to them besides as foodstuffs.

We shall consider what
you have said and discuss it

at our biweekly committee meetings.

Farewell.
May you make it safely home.

Bye!

Yeah, keep in touch.

Okay, here you go.

Where's my gun?

Oh, the gun. Um...

Hey, let me carry the gun.
Just to the edge of the jungle.

Come on. I mean, you drove and
everything. Let me carry the gun.

You know, all the
Piranhachicks are watching...

I should carry the gun.

Thanks.

Hey, it's not loaded, is it?

After the medical checkup
with the Valium prescriptions,

there will be tea with Nancy Reagan.

Day 2, we will start out with a seminar
by Fawn Hall on office relations.

I love it!

Then comes the political orientation.

Yeah, we got Billy Shlafley on standby.

Hopefully, it won't be long before
Miss Hunt rounds these girls up.

Ford, I gotta hand it to you. Using
a feminist to dupe a bunch of feminists.

Well, women aren't that smart.

Women! Hey, how's your wife?

-It's over.
-Oh.

Dr. Hunt!

How long have you been
standing there?

You didn't hear...

Anything that I didn't already know.

Francine told me all about
your dirty little plan.

Kurtz?
Then you found her?

David Letterman keeps calling,
but we don't know what to tell him.

I'm afraid Dr. Kurtz won't be doing
any more talk shows. She's dead.

Dead? How?

She died trying to protect the cultural
heritage of a primitive society.

Not so fast, professor.

We're not finished with you yet.

Your university...

Nothing's going to happen
to my university.

Except that the Defense Department
will provide a

generous grant to feminist
studies for research on expanding

women's opportunities in the military.

You are mad!

Otherwise, I go on the
David Letterman Show myself

and tell him about the Marines,
and the millions of dollars of equipment

lost in The Avocado Jungle.

Not to mention the diversion of funds
to pay for Malibu condos and subscriptions

to Cosmopolitan.

I can just imagine the sarcastic
look on David's face when he...

You wouldn't.

Don't tempt me.

Women.

Dr. Hunt, I've got to talk to you.

Bunny, what's going on?

I'm getting married to
Jim in ten minutes, but

I don't know. Do you think
I'm doing the right thing?

Well...

I mean, which would be better?
Getting married, being a housewife,

and having a bunch of kids
and getting old and fat, or...

finish school and become
the first woman president?

Well, Bunny, that's a
strictly personal decision.

Well, I'd rather just
be a housewife, but

I just don't want to disappoint
you after all you've taught me about...

Bunny, Bunny! You don't have
to live your life to please me.

The important thing is that you're happy.

And, as for what I've taught you,
well...

Listen, I've always believed that every
woman should get as much education

and intellectual stimulation as possible.

And that she should develop her mental
abilities to their utmost potential.

But, in your case, well,
there's just no point.

Really? Then I should marry him.

If that's what you want, yes.

I take it we have your blessing?

Don't push it.

Thank you.

Then I will marry Jim.
But I just feel so sorry for you.

I'm going to be leaving you here all
alone, and you're going to be losing

one of your best students.

-Oh, who?
-Me!

Oh! Well, don't worry, Bunny.
There'll be other students.

Well, this is it, Miss Hunt.

Bye! I'll call you. Collect.

Goodbye!
Thanks for everything!

Bye.

Oh, Jean-Pierre! Good to see you!
Did you get all the classes you wanted?

Yes, I got all the courses
you told me to take.

Introduction to Feminism,
Understanding Human Relationships, and

The Sensitive Male.

I want to thank you so much
for helping me, Dr. Hunt.

Oh, my pleasure.

Call me Margo.