Original subtitles

Gee, Brain, what do you want to do tonight?

The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Try to take over the world.

They're Pinky and the Brain.

It's Pinky and the Brain.

One is a genius, the other's insane.

The laboratory mice, the genes and the spice.

They're Pinky and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain,

Brain.

Before midnight is done, their plan will be unfurled. By the dawning of the sun,

they'll take over the world.

They're Pinky and the Brain.

They're Pinky and the Brain. Their twilight campaign is easy to explain.

To prove their mouthy work, they'll overgrow the earth.

They're Pinky and the Brain. Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain,

The man has an evil side, Pinky. Um, front or back?

The dark side.

The dark side that has

created grotesque war machines, pollution -spilling factories, and now a

thing that is spreading across the world like a horrible plague.

Voicemail. No.

Are you going to stop everything?

What's the bad, bad thing?

Yes, Pinky.

But not until I have manipulated it in a plan of world domination.

Utilizing satellite technology and these, we will redirect all global

communication into an endless voicemail system.

And once a person is on the line, the array and the amount of choices will

render them occupied, busy,

unable to defend the Earth for a full 72 hours. More than enough time for a well

-prepared mouse to seize control of the planet.

I see.

So, all we need is a well -prepared mouse.

I am that mouse, Pinky.

Oh, well, there you are then. Job well done, Blaine.

No, keep it up, Pinky. Donkey Town needs a new mayor.

The fact is, what we really need to set up the system is $1 ,614 ,000.

Hey, dad brain, that's going to take a lot of money.

Pinky, we stand on the threshold of world domination.

You have a choice. You can listen closely and provide assistance, or you

find your head compressed inside a walnut shell.

Hmm, world domination, walnut shell.

World domination, walnut shell.

There must be a way to get this money without running for Congress.

Have you been injured in an on -the -job accident?

You may be entitled to hundreds, thousands, even $1 ,614 ,000

in compensation.

Lenny Barbeck got me $211.

Even though I'm now 90 % fudge, it's okay, because Lenny Parvick got me $142

and some change.

Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?

I think so, Dwayne, but I get all clammy inside the tent.

Sigmund Freud would have had a field day with you, Pinky.

Oh, like sports then, did he?

The plan, Pinky. I will get a job at a large corporation...

stage a hideous accident, and then sue them for $1 ,614 ,000 in workers'

compensation. It will provide us with the necessary funds for our plan of

earthly rule.

Eat that brain! Brilliant!

Oh, wait, no, no.

Isn't that horribly illegal?

Yes. But once I rule the world, I will return the funds and then have Gerald

Ford pardon me.

Take a memo.

Oh, God, Blaine. Are you all right?

Yes. Fortunately, my chest cavity is constructed of a titanium alloy.

Oh, be sure to mention that in your job interview.

Impressive credentials. You're certainly qualified.

Now, Bratax, are you married?

Yes, I have a lovely wife and two wonderful young children.

Oh, that's too bad. Frankly, we're looking for someone who has no life.

you.

Send in the next candidate.

Mr. Brain.

Yes.

Well, well, we're an eager beaver, aren't we?

Actually, no, I'm not related to the Beaver family in any way.

Oh, good comeback.

Please be seated.

Mr. Brain, as you know, we at Fiero & Company are re -re -insurers. We provide

insurance to re -insurers who insure insurance companies.

Is that lucrative?

Take a look.

Very impressive. Princeton, Harvard business, six years in the industry.

me, Mr. Brain, what are your long -term career goals?

I plan on taking over the world.

You got drive. I like that.

But confidentially, taking over the world's my job.

Yes.

Now, brass tacks, are you married?

No. I do have a...

roommate, but he's very busy with his own activities.

Good, good.

One more thing.

About your head.

Yes? Isn't it rather small?

No, not for my race.

No, no, of course not. Your race. Because your people are such good cooks

their little heads and all. Please, excuse me for one second.

Carol, send everyone else home. I've got myself a minority person.

Mr. Brain, welcome to the world of re -re -insurance.

My gosh, you people must have ribs of steel.

Titanium alloy, actually.

Ha!

Pinky, the accident could be bluffed by altering the molecular matrix through a

substrate platform of microwaves.

Pinky? Look, Vane! All made of choo -choo!

And me without my video camera.

On the job accident, Pinky, I figured it out. In the office kitchen, I will

simply stage an accident utilizing the microwave oven and the non -dairy

powdered creamer. For no one really knows how a microwave works.

But why the powdered creamer, Brain?

No one really knows how that works, either.

Hey, Professor, tuition's due.

Whoa. Look at this.

Hey, we got a freak here.

Are you some kind of freak?

Actually, I'm a lab mouse involved in an intricate plan to take over the world.

Oh, very funny.

You're a regular Gallagher.

You think Gallagher is funny?

Don't mess with me, man.

You should run the police department, man. Oh, I will, my friend.

I will.

This will be your cubicle right here. If you need any office supplies, ask the

office manager and she'll have them here in two or three months.

Here's the company policy on vacations, on personal phone calls, and

sexual harassment.

Don't worry about this. You're safe as long as you avoid all contact with

humans. My goal in life.

I hear you.

What a mollusk.

Dear Brain, I packed some things for your new home away from home.

Thank you.

Uh, is that your pet?

Excuse me?

That mouse, is that your pet mouse? I keep mice.

You do?

Yeah, I feed him to my pet snake.

Name's Howie, your next cubicle neighbor.

Put it there, pal.

Uh, actually, my arm's been acting up.

Bad tennis elbow.

Tennis? Oh, hey, let's play some time.

You should play golf.

Blaine, goody, you're back.

I've made a yummy dinner.

Food pellets with food pellets.

Please, Pinky, I've had a very tough day.

Oh, you have.

You've had a tough day. You.

What about my day, Blaine?

We always hear about your day, but what about mine?

The boss this and the boss that. Na, dee, na, dee, da. Na.

Do you ever ask what I...

Farewell, Pinky.

What did you do today?

Um... Can't remember.

Anything?

Not a thing.

Now I know how American Gladiator stays on the air.

Pinky, you don't understand the pressures, the tension I'm under. You

what I'm up against. It's very difficult, the stressful tasks I face

Am I the only person who makes coffee around here?

Oh, I'm sorry. That's my fault.

You're cute.

You know what they say.

Big ears, big ear muff.

Uh -huh.

Hi, I'm Gina Fallow.

Hi, I'm the, uh, Mr.

Brain.

Oh, why, Mr. Brain, are you making a pass at me?

No, no, I promise, I honestly don't find you attractive in any way.

You creep!

Let go of me!

Let go!

Oh, dear.

Mr.

Brain?

I'd like a word with you, please. In here.

Now. I can explain, sir.

The young lady seems to have misunderstood me. I don't know what

about. It's your resume.

I've done some checking. Neither Princeton nor Harvard have any record of

attending. Oh, well, there must be some error.

I have diplomas from both of those institutions.

Well, you better go get them and deliver them here pronto, mister, or your

career in the world of re -re -insurance is O -O -over.

I find your manner unpleasant.

Working. Ding.

The time for action is upon us.

Help! Help!

Oh, help!

A terrible occupational disaster!

requiring massive workers' compensation.

I've been turned into a mouse.

$1 ,614 ,000?

We won't pay.

In that case, my friend, I'll see you in court.

Your Honor, our sympathy goes out to Mr. Brain, but the amount he's asking for

and the claim that he is a mouse, well, sir, they are both preposterous.

Mr. Brain?

Your Honor, to expedite matters, I wish to present these x -rays of myself,

clearly defining my mouse skeleton.

My x -ray?

What happened to my x -rays?

There really is only one conclusion here.

This man is a mouse.

I'm afraid the only conclusion here, Doctor, is that you have never seen

I think this might keep you quiet.

It might.

Your Honor, I would like to begin by presenting some actual evidence.

These two items were covered from Mr. Brain's cubicle. I ask you, when was the

last time you heard of a mouse winning a bowling trophy?

Or having an attractive family like this?

Ah, Pinky.

Yes?

Pinky, what are you doing here?

I had to come, Brain. They're not covering this on court TV.

Stay down.

Good thing they didn't find that mechanical suit, eh, Brain?

The suit.

Oh, dear heavens above, the suit.

Pinky, you must go to the office and get that suit from the kitchen closet. Do

you understand?

If they find that, we're sunk.

Do you want me to help?

I'm fine.

Go!

I noticed his furry head, and I believe that's typical of his people.

And what people would that be?

Uh, I'm not sure. I think they're from Europe.

Or maybe France.

Objection, Your Honor.

Size of my head, and if I was a man before the accident, is not the question

here. The fact is, I am now a mouse.

Your Honor, I intend to prove that Mr. Brain...

It's not a mouse, but simply, and also sadly, just an odd -looking little man.

Try the rolling mops. They're yummy.

I call to the stand, Mr.

Brain.

Now, how exactly did the accident happen, Mr. Brain? A bizarre thing

microwave oven.

I don't know exactly.

No one really knows how they work.

Incorrect. In the oven, a magnetron produces microwaves which cause water

molecules to align and reverse alignment, producing heat, not mice.

The accident also involved a non -dairy powdered creamer.

Uh,

oh.

Mr.

Brain, in your experience with other mice, are they intelligent?

No. Exactly.

Your Honor, I contend that Mr. Brain is simply too intelligent to be a mouse.

But... No, no, I'm not intelligent. I'm a simpleton, yes.

Like any average mouse.

Uh, Narf. So, you would have no problem with me saying that Albert Einstein was

a champion surfer?

What? I mean, no.

Or that the temperature of the sun is a comfy 70 degrees Fahrenheit?

I wouldn't know.

Or that the Fermi direct distribution function is a soup kitchen?

That's preposterous!

Your Honor, the Fermi Dirac function is, for any system of identical fermions in

equilibrium, the probability that a quantum state of energy E is occupied.

My word, man, don't you know your quantum statistics?

Oh,

blunder. Mr. Brain.

It is my ruling that your intelligence proves that you are not a mouse, and

being the basis for your claim, I now dismiss charges against Fiero and

Very well.

I'll go now.

I'm afraid not. I find you guilty of fraud, perjury, and appearing naked in a

public place. Take him away.

What? No!

No!

Stop that man.

Hold it. Put up your hands.

Oh, um.

Careful, Pinky, not too tight.

I must be able to think freely so I can plan for tomorrow night.

What, Brain? What are we going to do tomorrow night?

The same thing we do every night, Pinky.

Try to take over the world.

The Pinky, the Pinky and the Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain, Brain.