All language subtitles for S01E20_S01E21 - Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang - Little Bigfoot

God bless you.

I think the commissioner would support
our decision to employ rubber ammo and

tear gas at this point.

He wouldn't want this to get out of
hand.

After all, it is his daughter's wedding.

Oh, I am so glad to make contact with
you at last.

The commissioner tells me you are a dog
and a rabbit -y thing that can be

trusted. I like the weaselly way he
talks, Sam. Can we keep him? I have no

for your games.

Here, take this.

You might let it out of your sight.

Whatever you say.

It is extremely valuable information.

The details in detail. The latest
details devised by the most diabolical

villainous to date.

The dreaded...

White Crab!

They're onto us! No!

Weak! Help me! Help!

Weak!

Put the microchip on the ground and step
back.

Back? Okay. I'm going to reach into my
pocket and give you the microchip now.

Nice and slow.

Rebustable corn dog?

What do the geek think of next?

They're pretty strict about the speed
limit around here.

Beautiful country, though, isn't it?

that cream in the baking.

Well, hello there, honey bunny.

Gee, Sam, aren't we being a tad
familiar?

That's her name, Onionhead. She's the
new temp the geek hired to screen her

calls and salt her food and to
facilitate this macho spy guy moment.

You really should have that twitch
looked at.

Freelance Police, meet Dr. Harry Monkey
Features, Chief Operating Director of

ONCLE, the French division of UNCLE.

Pleased to meet you, Mr. Monkey
Features.

Loved you in Planet of the Chimps. You
may call me M. I believe that you

gentlemen have something that belongs to
me.

Just shout when you see it.

The microchip. Give me the microchip.

Oh, yeah.

The walls have ears.

You should talk.

Nice track.

You a member here?

Yes, golf relaxes me.

At least it used to.

The microchip your little friend is
carrying contains information vital to

national security.

No fooling. Let's have a look.

A few days ago, we received a disturbing
communique concerning the mysterious

disappearance of a handful of tourists.

Paris.

Mexico.

Japan.

We... That isn't too bothersome, is it,
Matt? I'm just thankful he did not for

rear projection.

We have reason to believe that agents
from TRUSS are responsible for these

abductions, and that the entire
operation is under the direct

Trussell's villainous leader, the
dreaded Larvo.

You boys are the best and most highly
expendable crime fighters we know, and

such, we want you to look into this.

Besides... Young Darla tells me your
tuxedos aren't due back until Monday.

where you two are going, you're going to
need them.

Quite a day, eh, little pal?

One minute we're toasting the
Commissioner's daughter, and the next

embroiled in international intrigue and
espionage.

Larvo's tropical hideaway dead ahead.

Any sign of Gilligan or the Skipper?

The perimeter has been compromised.

Release Snowball.

Well, hello, cousin.

The intruders have been eliminated.

Thank you would be nice.

It's Snowball.

Buzzer in.

Oh, you didn't have to get all dressed
up for us.

Look, Sam, it's five weapon -toting
punks who couldn't cut it at Burger Boy.

And with their career paths greatly
limited, they chose to become evil

I'll bet they were even turned down by
the military.

Shut up! Shut up!

Clearly, we've shambled into an
elaborate trap. But who could have set

I'm sorry, guys.

His credentials were fake.

Brilliant forgery.

Well, well.

If it isn't the monkey from Uncle.

Not quite, freelance police.

For I am... Marvel!

That old parlor trick. We can top that.

Before you were deep -fried to crispy
golden brown, I think it only fair to

you in on our little recipe for world
domination.

Using this device of my own design, I,
Larvo, have developed a method

to extract the most annoying virus known
to man.

The obnoxious tourist virus.

Good gosh!

After sprinkling virus bombs heavily
over the surface of the planet, millions

will be infected.

Obnoxious, rude behavior will result in
fisticuffs and widespread chaos. And

when the dust settles, I, Larvo, will
remain standing to rule all.

Initiate the countdown.

60. 59.

58.

57.

Does she really expect us to slip
through this?

I don't expect you to sit through
anything, Salmon Max.

I expect you to fry.

Lower them in.

Lower them in.

Here, let me.

No, let me. And since you're up, can you
get me a vanilla shake, a scumbo jumbo

dog, and a large fry?

Yeah, make mine a cheeseburger, a side
of rings, and a bucket of chili for

dipping.

Down a fry, taking the last cheese puff.

Cheese puff? What?

This table is very...

We shall meet again.

Judging by the position of the sun and
the overabundance of dead fish and oil

slicks in the water, I'd say we're in
the main shipping lanes. Heck, we should

be picked up by some friendlies in no
time.

Too bad.

I'm in no hurry to be... rescued.

Whim -wham, Sam!

Something ain't right here! Too true,
Max.

This isn't The Geek.

We hate to save the world and run, but
we've really got to get these monkey

suits back. Looks like our ride is here.

Don't worry, miss. A boat will be along
shortly, and that means sailors.

Yeah, you'll get picked up all right.

Did I mention that you'd crack me up,
little buddy?

Whatever.

If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I
never would have believed it. Who'd have

guessed one wimpy bolt was holding up
five tons of colorful roadside

I was right. You owe me one dino -boogie
snow globe full of primordial dandruff.

A deal's a deal. Smile for the birdie.

Another warm, fuzzy memory for our
scrapbook of America's cheesiest

oddities. Hey, up and rip! This snow
globe is dry.

The leaflets are just stuck on the side.

Yeah, well, if you really want to see
some wizened -up artifacts, This place

boasts the world's only collection of
sun -dried appendixes of the stars.

A frosty dessert says the Duke's
appendix is so big that the other

are in orbit around it. Sorry, little
pal.

Wagering is disrespectful to the solemn
spirit of these celebrity giblets.

Okay, you're on.

Thanks, Sam. I couldn't help myself.

There was more. There's always a tiny
speck more!

Don't thank me. I did it for the sake of
the innocent passersby who might have

been mortally sucked.

And because it was funny.

Sam, do you see what I see?

Sweet mother of all things hairy and
disgusting.

The guidebook said this was fast watch
country.

And here's me without my cattle prod.

The Sasquatch, also commonly known as
Bigfoot, is a shy, elusive forest

known to photograph poorly and project a
horrific stench that will make women

faint and strong men's stomachs turn.

He doesn't smell so bad. Sort of like a
wet puppy.

Sorry, that's me. These hip waiters
haven't drained from our last trip.

Oh, it's fine, Jojo. Now, I'd like you
to go clean out the stock room, if you

don't mind.

He should be headlining, not bussing
tables.

I can't believe that the manager of this
fine establishment would exploit a

fledgling Bigfoot. Oh, well, the world
thinks. Let's blow!

We've still got to check out the
mummified mer -boy and the weeping pits

tedium. I think tedium is north of I -5.

No, Max. I believe destiny has led us to
this humble highway stop.

A little Bigfoot needs to be in the
wild, embraced by its own lanky, foul

-smelling tribe.

We're going to set Jojo free, Max. Free
to frolic and forage and eat grub worms

with others of his shaggy ilk.

Ilk? Sounds like a good deed best left
to someone who gives a hoot. Let's blow.

Uh -oh. Sam's father's sense of do
-gooderism is popping up like a bad

Quick, Max. Where'd we park? We gotta
get Jojo as far away from here as

possible. I think we're in luck you, for
you got a purty mouth.

Hey!

What are you trying to pull?

Let's keep moving, Max.

Don't make eye contact.

I'm a little insulted that he didn't
pick us out of this gaggle. I'm a little

disappointed we don't actually get to
eat this way.

Just drive, Sam!

I want to remember this place exactly
how we left it.

It's okay, Jojo. Sam's got it in his
overstuffed noggin that we're going to

return you to your own time.

Won't that be nice?

He doesn't look thrilled, Sam.

That's because excitement is a human
emotion, Max. He's probably just gassy

traveling at high speeds for the first
time.

Yeah, mythical creatures hardly ever get
to fool around in boss cars.

Hey, don't call Jojo mythical. You're
going to hurt his itty -bitty feelings.

But you got a point. It's not every day
I get to cruise with a creature of

legend. Present company accepted.

This looks like as good a spot as any.

Here you are, Jojo. Home at last.

You're a free Bigfoot. Go, Frolic. Go
eat a grub. Go on, go on and Frolic. And

eat grubs. And Frolic. I knew it. He's
gone far from all that high city living.

All his natural grub -eating instincts
have been bled out of him.

Show him how it's done, big guy.

If that's what it takes.

Grub, grub, grub, grub.

Cool it off, Sam. I think he's getting
wistful.

Oh, what happy big foots are we?

Roaming the redwoods healthy and free.
My fur stinks a lot like a rug drench. I

don't know this guy. The guy in the
park? I've never seen him before.

Well, that did it, Mac.

JoJo's gone. After your little display,
I felt the urge to run for the hills

myself. Don't knock it. A guy could get
used to dressing this freely.

Sure beats ill -fitting slack.

I wouldn't know.

Oh, yeah.

I'm going to really miss our little
JoJo, but it's all for the best. He can

to a strapping nine feet tall and spend
his life eluding capture by backwoods

trophy hunters with little or no sense
of personal hygiene.

Isn't that cute, Sam?

You can barely see over the dash.

He's resisting our effort to set him
free, Max.

Disoriented from living too long amongst
the Homo sapiens. The what?

I fear we'll have to hand him back over
to his Bigfoot clan in person. It's a

simple matter of tracking down a whole
tribe of these elusive half -men.

Succeeding were countless other
sensations seeking knuckleheads of fail.

There's a truck coming.

Lot of clips around here.

What luck!

We've stumbled upon the annual Bigfoot
bailiwick.

Wow. Surely one of these kindly lunatics
can tell us where to find some Bigfoot?

Attention, believers.

This year's finest Bigfoot footage is
now being screened in the Elks Hall.

Come one, come all, walk your big feet
to Elks Club Hall.

I want focus!

The last entry is from Mr.

and Mrs. Pongo Pigman, a reserved
couple, but their vivacious camera work

volumes. Roll, please.

It's amazing.

If Citizen Kane was all about Bigfoots
and shot on a handheld Super 8 camera,

uh, hmm, I forgot what I was getting at.

Well, I guess it comes as no surprise
that this year... award for excellence

goes once again to the Pygmaeus family.

Our search is over, Max. If anyone knows
the whereabouts of a Bigfoot clan, it's

these backwards folks.

Besides

littering

and disturbing Jojo's nap, the brood is
destroying perfectly fine works of art.

Next he'll be defacing black velvet hobo
painting.

I feel compelled to employ the oh -so
-formidable rat gaff.

It came free with our last muffler job.

Make that puppy sing, Max.

Hey, Mr.

Pygmaeus, why so shy?

We just wanted a lead on where to find
this little guy's kin.

I mean, sorry.

Gee, buddy, in my experience, a grade
four abrasion like that usually has the

recipient bawling like a three -legged
longshoreman at a cotillion.

Sam, how can you be so insensitive?

This big old boy probably never got as
far as grade four.

Hmm. Take a look at this, Max.

Now I get it. It's a band of super
-intelligent circuses, quietly

our utopian society.

Free circuses!

Uh, they're Bigfoots, Max.

My gosh, you're right. It's obvious from
their glaring lack of unicycles.

Finally, we can return Jojo to his own
kind.

Here you go.

They're rejecting him.

Maybe he smells too human.

Max, come here a minute. And bring your
armpit. That's slim, Sheriff.

That's the ones what took my little
Jojo. Walked right off with him without

much as a please and thank you. Easy,
Festus. We've just returned him this

Bigfoot young 'un to his own kin is all.

Sam, I didn't know you spoke bumpkin.

Bigfoot? What are you talking about,
Mungrel?

That's my boy.

Boy? Look at him. Only one of you has
hair.

Well, heck, takes after his ma is all.

Come on out, Ma.

Joe Jones back.

Ain't you never heard of Glamorous Gert,
the wild woman of Borneo?

I feel dizzy.

All we need now is a turtle boy and a
pinhead and we can open our own

Well, Max, I think we've learned a
valuable lesson here today.

Never judge a big foot by its saggy
cover.

No.

Don't bite your big wet nose in where it
don't belong?

No. What then?

When Bigfoots invites you to sit down to
grub, they ain't kidding.

Can you pass the hot dog, Sam?

Mine's still kicking.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.