Original subtitles

Good morning, USA.

I got a feeling that it's gonna be a wonderful day.

The sun in the sky has a smile on his face, and he's shining a salute to the

American race.

Oh boy, it's swell to say, good morning, USA.

Good morning, USA.

And to conclude this tour of my wine yard, a brief toast.

To the lowly grape.

A simple berry for peasants named by the Romans, of course. After Hanna-Barbera's

childish oaf, grape ape.

Believe it or not, I was once like the lowly grape myself.

Young, naive, full of juice.

Until that special summer, I learned to make wine.

I was at that age when summer means one thing.

Playing in the woods.

I'm gonna go play in the woods, babe.

I'll do my chores later.

What? You don't do chores.

The fastest way to the woods was through Mr.

Tuttle's backyard.

Careful, Jeffrey.

I love my lawn and consider her to be my beautiful green wife.

Those waters good and rusty today.

In the woods, I could do anything.

Like find a really cool stick and use it to whack trees.

I could even throw it like a boomerang.

And of course, there was other stuff to do in the woods.

This is gonna be good.

Worms. Oh, mama.

Don't mind me just converting this old shack into a bang shed.

It's like a gummy worm on steroids.

Great question, Jeff. A bang shed is a small, filthy, abandoned structure

famously used as a place to have hot sex in the woods. I strategically placed

this to rile you up for a role in the shed.

Not with me. I'm just the caretaker. But it would mean a lot to me if you'd

fornicate on this pee-soaked mattress.

It's my pee.

Babe,

I saw the monster in the woods again, and it was... Why are you all just up?

We're going to a steakhouse for Dad's half-birthday.

I must have forgotten to tell you. Can I come?

Oh, I don't know, babe. You have sap on your hands. You smell like worms.

Wouldn't you be happier staying home and watching Oliver and Company with Rogu?

Dog! A dog!

Billy Joe signs and roll.

I'll stay here. Have fun, babe!

You took that well, Jeff.

Took what well? Hayley obviously didn't want you to go.

She thinks of you as a boy.

No, duh.

She's seen my penis.

No, a little boy.

Isn't it possible she likes me despite my many quirks and faults?

No. Wifeys want their hobbies to be mature adult men.

Or fish.

If you don't grow up soon, she'll divorce you. Or worse.

What's worse than the Big D?

The Twisted Sea.

Getting cock-olded.

That's when you're such a little boy, your wife goes out and bonk some other

dude. That's not appropriate for me to hear, Mr. Klaus.

What's not appropriate is lying in the hall while Haley's headboard goes bonk,

bonk, bonk. Before long, telltale heart-style phantom bonks will drive you

up the wall.

I don't want any of that!

Then be a man, or else it's... What's that I hear under the floorboards?

The ghost of a brutal cuckolding?

Bonk, bonk, bonk.

Bonk! I'll show you I'm a man! I'll run away crying!

And never come back forever!

Never!

Ever!

Stop coming alive, you trees!

The monster!

I gotta hide!

Dear Mr. God, please help me become a man.

Get lost, you bum. This shed is only for dirty woodland humping. No

solo play.

What's that sound?

Someone forgot to turn off their cup of noodles machine.

Hello? Hello?

I'm gonna break in. Please don't shoot me too much.

Help me!

Help me!

Don't worry, an intruder's coming!

Oh god, the toilet's gone mad!

It's eating him alive!

I slipped getting out of the tub and got wedged back here.

Help me!

I'm going to yank you out. You're so old. I hope you don't pull apart like

roast chicken, mister.

Please, call me Bing.

You look amazing, Mr.

Bing! Way better than you did naked.

Name's just Bing.

Like the cherry.

Like the Crosby.

And thank you, even at home a man should dress to impress.

Do you have any juice?

No. A man has tea to come with the nurse.

Drink.

Jeffrey, I'm a hermit. Do you know what that means?

Of course.

You're a crab.

It means I don't go out. I don't have friends. If you hadn't found me, I'd

have died on the bedroom floor.

Every crab's nightmare.

Hey, how did you hear my kettle anyway?

I was out in the woods.

Where I like to play.

Playing in the woods.

I haven't played in the woods since I was a boy.

And even then, I didn't. I know.

I'm like a little boy.

You're not like a boy. You are a boy. A golden halo of innocence surrounds you.

The monster!

Like Frankenstein?

Is that what you fear?

Oh, Jeffrey,

Frankenstein hasn't been seen in these woods for years.

Come with me.

Your monster is just a wild boar. Oh, it's just the monster from the

boar's head deli meat packages.

And look, he's found wild grapes.

Get, you big galoot!

We could make wine with these.

Mr. Bing, you look good. You smell good. You know about wine.

Please make me into a man like you.

Becoming a man takes time.

How much time? Are we done?

I'll teach you what I know, but it's a shame in a way. Because in becoming a

man, you will lose your innocence.

I know I did.

One last worm before I'm a man.

This one's name is Wormo!

Thus began my lessons with Bing.

And what became of Wormo? Well, just a few minutes later, I flung him high into

the air.

Now can we drink?

No. Bing had agreed to teach me how to be a man.

And as it turns out, aging a boy is a lot like aging a wine.

First rule.

Aging a boy is nothing like aging a wine.

Second rule, men take baths. Life is a battle, and smelling good is your

greatest weapon.

That's why they're called bath bombs.

When I was young, I'd paint my whole body purple, privates included.

Then I'd hide in the grapes so the women would stomp on me, privates included.

I don't want to hear about this.

Okay, okay, a man needs boundaries.

Speaking of boundaries, I ask you not to enter this room.

It's full of memories from my old life.

Oh, in your old life were you a crooner? You think all beings are crooners? Come

on, just stop trying to go into my secret room, okay?

What? I didn't even know about it. Fine, I forgive you. Just don't let me catch

you again.

Things look good. The mattress is utterly foobar. The shed is ready for

sex.

Raccoons? One's going for the playboys.

Here we go.

This style is called sprezzatura.

It means effortless grace.

In loafers, a man can't help but walk with a certain nonchalance.

Try it.

Nonchalant with me, baby.

He's a boy, he's a boy, he's a beautiful boy, but he wears loafers like a man.

I'm a boy, I'm a boy, but I'm coming of age. Hey, watch out for that space, and

watch out for this room. Don't you go in this place.

I wasn't trying to.

Good, keep it that way.

He's a boy, he's a boy, he's a beautiful boy.

One day he'll be a beautiful man.

That was a great song, but somehow I have sap on my hands again.

One word.

Extra virginal oil.

My hands are so clean, they look like a picture of hands.

What is this stuff?

You never heard of olive oil?

What's a boy eat? Little nuggets?

I eat whatever babe makes me.

Another rule? A man serves others. And there's nothing better to serve than a

simple tomato sandwich.

Good tomato, good oil, and good salt.

Sea salt.

I only use Eastern Caspian sea salt.

If you try to use Western Caspian Sea salt, well, it's just not Eastern.

I think I'm a man, Mr. Bing.

I just hammered a cork into a bunghole without laughing.

That much?

You're not a man yet, but maybe it is time for you to go.

Especially since I just got an ember alert that matches your description.

You haven't been checking in with nobody?

Jeff! Where have you been?

I've been making for you, with sap-free hands, a simple tomato sandwich.

How did you do that?

Are you wearing Heelys?

Babe, you smell incredible.

An old man bathed me.

Excuse me?

This sando is on point.

Ho-ho!

Look at this man!

Maybe the bunking is off the table.

I am a man!

I gotta go tell Bing!

Klaus, did you tell Jeff he was gonna get cuckolded again?

I just told him a bit about the history of the term.

Mr. Bing, I think I'm a... Guns?

These are a good guy's guns, right?

You might want to sit down for this, Jeffrey.

Have some tea.

The boar has become a problem.

And when there's a problem, a man doesn't stop until it's solved.

You don't mean... I have to shoot?

The boar. What did he do wrong?

Did he do a big fart like Pumba?

He didn't fart like Pumba. He's eating the grapes we need for next year's wine.

So he must be eliminated and made into a simple boar ragu.

I'm sorry.

I guess I'm not a man after all.

You may not be a man yet, but when you are, you can still cry.

A man can always cry.

i think it's time i show you that locked room you've been so obsessed with

jeffrey the truth is i used to be a hitman for the bingoni mafia

you did all these the hits were problems i was good at solving i was so good they

had me change my first name to bingoni bing for short my last name is a goon so

i'm bingoni goon and a bingoni goon And before my family name got shortened at

Ellis Island, it was Bengoni Goon, which, believe it or not, in English

means Bengoni Goon. You murdered people.

I did.

But when my last hit got away, I left the mafia in shame.

They could have made you sleep with a fish.

But that part of my life is over, especially since you came along.

When I met you, I was stuck behind a toilet.

Now I feel like I could throw a toilet at the moon.

Hey, that's Mr.

Tuttle.

You know this man?

He lives just across the woods from you. I cut through his yard.

Mr. Tuttle loves his yard.

Look!

Yeah, he didn't disappear.

He's just in the witness protection program.

What? He told you this?

A man hears things.

Jeffrey, would you like to kill the boar? No, no, I couldn't. Not Pumba!

Too pure to kill a Pumba.

Now go. I'll call you when the wine is ready.

And here, take this.

I knew it. You were a crooner.

I'm not a crooner.

That's Bay Area style rap.

And if you need more space, there's a hollow log out back you can make into an

ABU, additional bang unit.

How much you asking, Roger?

Nothing. Just get in there. Do you provide the sex partner? It's not a

brothel. Would you negotiate on the price?

It's free, dammit. Please just go have sex.

I've sunk too much time and money into this. No, thank you. Not for me. No.

Hog poison.

Weird. Mr. Bink said he was gonna shoot the boar.

Come in.

The wine is ready.

Ta-da!

I thought we'd bottle it together.

Eh, bottling is overrated.

It is? By who?

The bottlers.

Hey, Mr. Bing, you shot the boar, right? You didn't strangle it or poison it?

Of course I shot it.

Oh, okay.

It's just... I see, because I killed a bunch of people you think I'm a summer

psycho. Look, to prove to you I've put that life behind me, I want to reach out

to the community.

Share our wine.

We can go door to door together.

You'll have to deliver it alone. My old between the tub and toilet injuries are

acting up again.

But you were just dancing around like Fred Astaire.

And where's Fred Astaire now?

Dead. Now, somewhere here is a very special bottle for Tuttle. Mr. Tuttle?

Why Mr. Tuttle?

He might be afraid of me on account of the mafia connection.

I want to extend an olive branch.

Is this it? No!

This one.

It's the only green one.

A nod to his curvaceous, herbaceous green lawn.

Mr. Bing, you don't want to...

Kill Mr.

Tuttle, do you?

What? Kill?

I don't kill anymore. I won't even listen to the killers.

Except on Mr. Brightside.

As I walked to Mr.

Tuttle's, my head was swimming with thoughts like, did Bing poison the wine?

And if I delivered it, would that make me a murderer?

And I wish I hadn't gotten so high this morning.

Then I remembered a few of Grape Ape's antics and chuckled.

But mostly, I was thinking about whether the wine was poisoned.

Hold those glasses up, up, up. We're nearly at the end. I returned to my

mentor after taking the wine to Tuttle's. I had made the most difficult

decision of my life.

Jeez, Jeffrey, you've gone as pale as a sheet.

Did you see something in that bang shed that spooked you? There's never anything

going on in the bang shed.

I feel sorry for that weird little man.

He's been working his tail off.

Oh, he sees me. He's backing me over.

No thank you.

He's making kissy faces.

Okay, he's swallowing a whole banana.

Humping the air.

He's really throwing the kitchen sink at me here. Wow, and now he's rolling out a

vibrating saddle.

What would he even plug that into?

Oh, he's showing me the generator.

Lot of smoke coming out of that thing.

Out of gas.

And now he's crying.

Let's have some tea.

So. How did it go with Tuttle?

He was happy to see me. A trusted friend.

Oh, wonderful.

And the wine.

Was he happy to see the trusted wine?

Mr. Bing, did you poison Tuttle's wine?

Poison Tuttle? Of course not.

I would no sooner poison Tuttle than use that creepy man's shed.

I heard that through my binoculars.

Oh, I'm happy again.

Jeff, believe me, I did not poison Tuttle's wine.

That's a relief.

Hey, let's finally open some of our wine.

I want to taste it. You already are.

I put some of Tuttle's wine in your tea in case you did poison it. Isn't that

hilarious?

Why would you do that, Jeffrey?

I knew if you made up your mind to kill him, you'd never stop trying.

You said it yourself.

A man doesn't stop until a problem is solved.

I need some air.

Solo play is healthy!

What's the big deal? You didn't poison it, right?

I did. I did poison it. With enough hog poison to poison every hog from here to

Poison Hog City.

I'm gonna die.

What? Oh, God! What have I done?

You saw a problem, and you didn't stop until you solved it. You know what that

makes you?

A man.

And since you're a man, I don't have to feel bad about killing you.

Sorry, Bing. I took out all the bullets from your secret guns.

I'm so proud of you, but I bet you didn't find the one in my sack.

I got that one, too.

You get the one in the freezer?

Yep. Cereal pots?

Yep. Microwave? Yep. Inside a hollowed-out loaf of rustic ciabatta

bread? Yep. The gun behind the toilet?

Why did you have to send me to kill Tunnel?

Because nobody would ever suspect a man of using a boy to kill a man.

I suspected it. Can't you throw up the poison?

I win.

I'm gonna get the gun.

I'm stuck.

Full circle.

Huh, Jeffrey?

If I pull you out, will you still try to kill me?

Yes. And I have to leave you trapped here, Bing.

Exactly what a man would do.

Go, my beautiful man.

Go.

Bang! I've been looking all over for you!

I'm a man!

Oh yeah?

Wanna show me?

And then I had sex with my wife in the Bang Shed. Wow!

Did anyone find Bang's body?

No. A bunch of wild boars ran in and ate him alive.

Cheers!

Can you believe all those years ago someone was trying to kill me? That was

interesting to you? I was mostly drawn to the bangshed parts.

What a challenge that was.

Sadly, those walls didn't stand for long.

Demolished later that summer by a 0.4 earthquake.

Nothing I could do, except go to court. You might be familiar with my landmark

lawsuit, General Napoleon Boner Parts versus the United States Geological

Survey. It made the papers.

Creep left out of court.

Oh, that's just the headline. Keep reading.

It gets worse.

You better lawyer up, bore.

Napoleon Bonaparte will see you in court.

Bye. Have a beautiful day.