Original subtitles

(horn honking) (gasps)

(groans)

(growls)

Dang.

(panting)

(grunts)

Hello, Napoleon. Hey, Pedro.

(grunting)

(sighing)

So, Pedro, the other day,

I found, like, a scientist's secret diary,

and it said if you burp, sneeze, fart and yawn

at the same time, you explode.

Science is amazing.

B.S., Napoleon.

Scientists don't keep diaries.

They have logs.

Secondly, I know two people who have snee-furped

and lived to blog about it.

Well, they're liars!

All the air leaving your body would create a super-vacuum

and turn you into an upside-down blood fountain. Gosh!

This is the dumbest argument I have ever heard.

Let's try it and see who's right!

(grunts) My pack!

(birds singing)

(sighs)

(low, volcanic gurgling sounds)

The root beer has reached the cabbage.

I think we're a go.

Initiating pepper cloud.

Any last words, Napoleon?

Pedro, if I die, have a hawk sprinkle my ashes in Bear Lake.

As you wish.

Snee-furp in three,

two and one.

(stomach rumbling, Napoleon groans)

(grunting)

(Napoleon passes wind, grunts)

(wind whistling)

Have you boys seen my cabbage?

Oh, there it is!

(wind whistling)

What are you idiots looking at? (Napoleon groans)

Get out of the way! Get out of the way!

(Napoleon grunts)

(Grandma grunting)

Get off of me!

GRANDMA (coughs): Oh.

Sorry I didn't explode, guys.

I totally forgot to yawn.

Are you okay, Grandma?

No, I'm not okay!

Your dingbat brother just broke my transition lenses!

Boy, you really done it now.

A good pair of photo-grays will set you back $28,

and that's without the croakies!

$28?! I'll never have that kind of money!

Now, Carlinda, I keep telling you,

these nephews of mine need to get a job.

Ow!

Don't tell me how to raise my boys!

Napoleon, you're getting a job to pay for these.

What about Kip?

Kip's too frail for today's modern workplace.

Besides, he's gonna be my eyes.

I can't see a thing.

Why can'tIbe your eyes?

Because I'm way better at describing stuff.

Like how I always say a baby's hand looks like a starfish.

Whoa! That is dead-on accurate, Kipper.

Hey, Napoleon, we just refilled our bean bag chair.

Do you want to come over and sit in it with me?

My mom will supervise.

That sounds pretty sweet,

but I'm kind of going through a family crisis right now.

Oh, my gosh, is there anything I can do?

Not unless you've got, like, a billion dollars

for a new pair of these.

WOMAN: Well, Napoleon, I know how

debt can weigh on a man.

So, I'm gonna recommend you drop out.

Can't I just get an after-school job?

Here's my résumé.

You can call my references to find out how awesome I am.

Okeydokey.

(touch-tone dialing)

(phone ringing) Hello?

This is Suzanne Critchlow at P.H.S.

Yeah, I'm checking references on a Napoleon Dynamite.

Yeah, he's okay, I guess.

Wow, impressive.

Well, let's see

what we have in the old Job Opportunities Box.

Peach pitter. Lame.

Midwife. Gross.

Prison snitch.

Maybe. Oh,

well, this one's interesting.

There's an animal breeding facility

that needs an extra hand.

What kind of animal?

Uh, I don't really know what this is.

Would you object to working with something called a...

a liger?

Huh?

Are you freaking kidding me?!

I only had, like, 14 dreams about them last night!

It's a lion and tiger mixed, bred for its skills in magic.

They're the most gorgeous blend of beasts

that God never intended.

Well, don't get too excited.

It's 40 miles away.

(panting)

Hey, Grandma, I just got a sweet new job!

Kip, you suck!

Well, that was uncalled for.

Now read slowly, Kipper, so Grandma can imagine.

"As Lance emerged from the Jacuzzi

and reached for his chaps, a Savannah blew away his..."

Blew away his what?!

Spit it out, Kip!

Um... his undies.

Grandma, does the Lord know you're reading this?

I'm not the one reading it, Kip.

You are.

Dang it.

(panting)

(grunts)

Well, hello, son.

You must be the awkward boy from the high school.

I guess.

(laughs): Howdy, I'm Cody,

and this is my mating partner, Dody.

Who cares? Where are the ligers?

(laughing): Now hold on to your ham steaks.

Before we let you run willy-nilly with our hybrids,

we have to show you a brief orientation film.

Well, hurry up!

(patriotic music plays)

MALE NARRATOR: America's Fighting Crossbreeds!

Looking for a knockout blow to end World War II,

President Harry Truman has a brainstorm.

From an oval-shaped office in the White House,

Truman unveils his plans for a new super weapon

to our nation's top scientists.

I call it a Lygor!

Yee-hee! (laughs) Yee-haw!

I wish that guy was our president right now.

And thus, Shasta, the first liger, was born.

Just watch as he gives what-for to these patriotic convicts.

(convicts screaming)

It wasn't long before the pieces were in place

for a liger invasion.

But ultimately, Truman lost interest

and decided to go another way.

But should atoms ever come into short supply,

we can all rest easy, knowing our friend the liger

stands ready to fight... for freedom!

(roaring)

(projector clicking)

I'm so freaking proud right now.

So Napoleon, are you ready to see some ligers?

I've been ready my whole life.

Then I give you...

Ligertown.

(roaring)

(wooden pecking)

(purring and meowing like kittens)

(hammock creaking)

(TV game show theme plays)

These are ligers?

(meows and purrs)

I should have picked prison snitch.

(wooden pecking)

What have you done to the ligers?

They're so peaceful and decroded!

Are you kidding?

These ligers have a lifestyle most animals would dream of.

Come here, Buttercup, Gingersnap!

Brunch is ready!

What are you feeding them?

French toast sticks and tube yogurt.

Aren't you doing anything to cultivate their magic abilities?

If you're referring to the magic they've brought

into our childless marriage...

I wasn't.

Fair enough.

Now, you strike me as a boy who likes to sing.

I'm pretty much the best singer I know.

Fantastic, 'cause this is the time of day

where we sing the pride to sleep.

♪ Some day somebody's gonna make you ♪

♪ Wanna turn around and say good-bye ♪

♪ Until then, baby ♪

♪ Are you gonna let 'em hold you down and make you cry? ♪

♪ Don't you know? ♪

♪ Don't you know, things can change? ♪

♪ Things will go your way ♪

♪ If you hold on ♪ (contented purring)

♪ For one more day ♪

ALL: ♪ Hold on for one more day! ♪

I'm still pissed, but that was a pretty sweet song.

GRANDMA: Kip, if anything happens to my Seville

while you're my eyes,

it's coming out of your next government check.

Come on, get in there!

Grandma, I don't feel good about this.

Maybe I should drive.

You don't have the leg strength.

Dang it.

(engine starting)

(engine revving, tires squealing)

(tires peeling, engine roaring)

Hey, I'm pretty good at this!

Child. (screams)

Horse. (neighing)

Pedro. Ay-yi-yi.

Sister wives.

Hey! (screaming)

By the by, where are we going?

We're going to the Kuttin' Korral,

so Lopan can frost my tips.

(engine revving)

Slower.

Slower.

S.O.B.

(yells)

(crash, tires squealing)

(entrance bells tinkling)

Hello, Princess! How are you?

You are looking so big and sexy today!

Lopan, you sure know how to treat a lady.

Oh, stop it! You are crazy!

You are so big and crazy!

(leaf blower whirring)

Okay, listen up.

I want everyone here to know,

I'm very disappointed in you as a species.

(loud moan)

What'syourdeal?

(moaning)

Whoa! You're with child!

(panicked moaning) Oh. Sick!

Stay in there!

Come on, guys! Your lady needs you.

(remote clicks, TV volume increases)

("Sanford and Son" theme playing)

(purring)

Here.

Shoot it into this.

(plop)

(purrs and mewls)

I'm not fainting about this.

I'm fainting about something else.

(sighs)

(harp plays arpeggio)

MAJESTIC VOICE: Napoleon? Napoleon?

Tina, you noble lard, stop.

(gasps) I know you!

You're... You're...

I am Shasta, the first and greatest of all ligers.

My liege.

I've always dreamed of meeting you.

Can you read my thoughts?

Hold on. Let me think of a number.

Three. (gasps) Sweet!

But that's not why I summoned you to...

Napoleon, please stop thinking of numbers.

Sorry.

Mankind has reduced my breed

to a life of gluttonous leisure and be-tube-ed yogurt.

So you want me to kill Cody and Dody?

Why would you...? No, Napoleon.

The cub you birthed represents our last hope.

He is the chosen one,

and he lies swaddled in that 12-piece bucket.

(whirring, ding)

(mewing)

To you, I entrust the ultimate task:

restoring the liger to its once noble standing.

You must become its father.

Okay.

Good-bye, Napoleon.

Wait! I have an important question.

Yes, Napoleon?

If you sneeze, fart, burp

and yawn at the same time...

Good-bye,Napoleon.

I knew they could fly!

I'm right about everything.

(harp plays arpeggio)

My word is my bond, Shasta.

You can count on me.

(purring)

Don't worry. I'll take good care of him.

And you'd better take dang good care of my moon boot.

Okay, little fella, the first thing we're gonna do

is learn how to hunt fresh steaks.

(whirring)

Come on, go chase it!

Increase your blood lust.

Hey, Napoleon, the bead store is having a sale on beads.

Want to come with me?

My mom will supervise.

Can't you see I'm training my liger?

Ohh, it's so cute.

Careful, he'll rip your heart out!

(slurping)

You meanmeltmy heart out.

I know what I meant.

Where's its mother?

Uh, it's an orphan.

I found it lying in a mini-snow cave.

Well, you shouldn't be feeding it raw meat.

It needs mother's milk.

I'm on it.

Are you kidding me, Napoleon?

These paps have been dry since '65.

What about your grandma?

No, it needs animal milk.

(bleats)

Tina's a girl, right?

How the heck should I know?

(startled grunt)

(slurping)

Napoleon,

it's working!

(pop)

(ferocious meowing)

(metallic scratching)

Sweet.

Hey, who's clawing the van?

I'm trying to record a message for my answering machine.

(click, beeping)

You've reached Rico Industries.

For romantic bodyguard services, press one.

For life coaching or human scarecrow work, press two.

(meows excitedly)

Dang.

You're becoming noble as crap.

Father's proud of you.

And mommy is, too.

Uh...

(tiny roar)

(roar echoing)

(distant roar echoing faintly)

Huh?

(roaring)

(huge roar)

(roaring continues)

Look, Napoleon, he's laughing.

(meowing and purring happily)

Stop treating him like a baby.

You've got to push him higher so he can catch some air.

(thud)

Uh-oh.

(purring) Are you okay?

(meows) He's all right.

He can handle way more G's than that.

Napoleon,

I know you mean well,

but why are you so tough on him?

Because if he doesn't have a strong father figure,

he's gonna turn out to be strange and lonely.

Trust me, I know.

Oh, Napoleon, I don't think you're either of those things.

I was talking about Kip!

Gosh!

Come on, let's get out of here.

I haven't taken a dump in like five days.

OFFICER ELWOOD: Dispatch...

I'm currently under attack

by some kind of wild feline species.

(roars)

Can I get a description?

Well, it's a proud, magnificent beast.

A creature that moves with liquid grace.

Okay, I'll get this right over to the mayor's office.

I knew this day would come. Good-bye, Tracy.

Next stop, Orlando!

Whee...

(thud)

Next stop, Orlando!

(ligers roaring, townspeople screaming)

(man screaming)

Not my size.

Not my style.

Bingo! (roars)

(gasps)

(yells)

(crunching)

Too quick for you, furball.

(thumping, yelling)

(grunt, thud inside dojo)

And that's how you punch somebody in the brain.

Let's have a big hand for Sensei Trevor!

(sneezes)

My allergies.

Did somebody bring a cat in here?

(roars)

Starla, help!

(grunting)

Hey, Eyeballs,

how do Grandma's pumpkins look in this one?

Oh, man.

They're huge and ferocious.

That's what your grandpa used to say.

I'm serious, Grandma,

there's a couple of mutant pumas outside

trying to crush your car.

(roars)

My car?!

(gunshots)

(air hissing)

Jeeeeeeeeeez!

(everyone talking at once)

People, these ligers present us with a crisis the likes of which

we haven't seen since the British Invasion of '64.

I think we all need to urinate in the same mug

and sprinkle it on our crops.

That's your answer to everything, Lyle!

I'm gonna organize me a safari and make some money.

I hear liger blood is an aphrodisiac in Mogadishu.

Everybody, shut up!

With the mayor and police chief gone,

I reluctantly volunteer my services

to lead you weaklings to victory!

I second and approve that, baby.

Well, according to the city charter,

the chain of command falls to the student body president.

I accept.

This is bull crap!

I challenge your authority.

Security, have him removed.

You got it, jefe.

I'm a heartbeat away, Pedro!

Heartbeat away!

(grunting)

Okay, I think this liger invasion can be solved

without any bloodshed.

In my village, when a monster came to town,

such as a chupacabra, or Satan,

they were just searching for something.

Money? A state championship?

A crazy Brazilian blowout?

Maybe.

Or maybe it's something less stupid.

Hmm...

(crunching, moaning) Do you think everyone in the restaurant

thought we were married?

If they did, it was the worst freaking honeymoon

I've ever been on.

(ligers roaring)

(people screaming)

What's going on? (tiny roar)

(roaring stops)

Oh, crud.

(meowing)

Run!

(roaring resumes)

You didn't find that cub in a mini-snow cave, did you?

Uhhh...

(tires squeal) Get in!

Faster...

faster...

faster...

(roaring) S.O.B.

(hip-hop playing)

(safari music playing)

Aim for the bladder.

That's nature's gas tank.

(cocking rifles)

(tires squeal)

(yelling)

(tires screech)

(yelling)

(growling, roaring)

(protestors shouting)

Hello, Napoleon.

It's Pedro.

As your best friend and mayor, I urge you to give back the baby.

A baby?

What's he talking about?

I don't know.

Napoleon took this liger cub from his mother,

and we've been raising him as our own.

He's adorable.

Let's see what I can get for him.

All right, listen up!

You can have your cub,

but first I want a ten-pound bag of butterscotch candy.

And I'd like to have my gutters cleaned,

if you know what I mean.

(disgusted groaning)

I can't give him back.

He hasn't even learned how to cast spells or bend time.

Napoleon, I know how much you love ligers,

but they're just wild animals.

They're not magic.

I always knew this about you, Deb.

I could never be with a woman

that didn't believe in the mystical realm.

I'm sorry you feel that way,

but if you're not gonna give him back, I will.

Where is he?

(meows)

Easy, Easy.

Look, I'm just gonna be straight up with you guys.

I had your baby like ten seconds ago,

but I don't know where he is right now.

(angry growls)

Now before you guys tear me to shreds,

I want you to know that I really tried to raise your cub

to be a king among ligers.

(slurping, crunching)

(angry grunt)

Given the proper time and resources,

I had even hoped to teach him how to...

(meowing)

(triumphant music swells)

Whoa.

You really are the chosen one.

Lucky.

(purring)

CROWD: Aww.

Today, the tears on my face are not just tattoos.

I guess you were right, Napoleon.

They are magical.

(purring) Swear you'll never forget me,

and if I ever have children of my own,

I promise I won't like them as much as you.

Everybody say "cheese."

Cheese.

(shutter clicks)

By the power inexplicably vested in me,

I declare that whole area over there a liger preserve.

CROWD: Yay!

Hey, that's where I live.

We can fight them in court, baby!

SHASTA: Napoleon.

Napoleon.

Shasta.

Well done, Napoleon.

You have truly restored my pride.

Double meaning, sweet.

I offer this knowledge as your reward:

Snee-furps are impossible.

At least in your dimension.

Bummer.

Will I ever see you again?

Something tells me...

(gasps)

...no.

Aww.

I know you said you'd never like your future children

as much as you liked our liger,

but I really think you'll make a good dad someday.

Say it, don't spray it, Deb.

Sorry.

That's okay.

And just so you know,

if I ever have kids and get killed in a car accident,

I totally want you to raise them.

And get my car fixed,

'cause it'll probably be a pretty sweet car.

Hello, Napoleon.

Hello, Deb.

What's up, Pedro?

Well, I'm still technically the mayor till 5:00,

so if there's anything illegal you want to do,

I can pardon you. Really?

Sweet!

Oh, yeah!

(grunts)

This is the best freaking day of my life!

You've reached Rico Industries.

Please listen carefully as the menu options have changed.

If you're calling about quarterback opportunities,

press one.

For tours of Indian graveyards, press two.

If you're calling to obtain the rights to my life story,

press three.

If you are interested in joining my pyramid scam, press four.

For closet organization tips, press five.

If you believe you are my son, press six.

If this is about my line of antidepressant muffins,

I'm still waiting on FDA approval, so hang in there.