Meet the Feebles

Bletch:
I'm afraid you can't.

Bletch:
No, they just don't want a**holes in the clubhouse.

Bletch:
Do you really think people are interested in nasal sex?

Trevor:
Sure, boss. It's the next big fad.

Bletch:
Have you thought of a name for it yet?

Trevor:
I was thinking along the lines of...Dick does Daisy.

Bletch:
No. That's lousy.

Trevor:
How about...Anal Antics?

Bletch:
Anal Antics...yes. It will appeal to the intellectuals. Do you think it will do as well as our last release and win the hooker prize?

Bletch:
Sh*t! I was just about to pop my cookies!

Heidi:
Eat lead you man-stealing slut!

Bletch:
Trevor...

Trevor:
Yeah boss?

Bletch:
I want that fudge packer eliminated!

Heidi:
Uh, no I haven't.

Trevor:
Didn't you notice you were sitting on his face!

Robert:
I'm Robert.

Trevor:
You may be Robert to your friends but you're fly sh*t to me! Piss off!

Trevor:
I've heard better singing from a mongoose with throat cancer.

Robert:
I thought you were nice.

Robert:
No your not, you're loose! And you drink!

Robert:
You're nothing but a loose lush Lucille and I never want to see you again!

[first lines of the film]

Announcer:
Ladies and gentlemen. Your attention please. Welcome to the newest, the greatest, the most spectacular in entertainment history. Put your hands together for the fabulous Feebles variety hour.

Trevor:
Didn't you notice you were sitting on his face!

Madame Udder:
Well, it was a bit uncomfortable but I thought it was my hemorrhoids.

Sebastian:
Heidi! You've been overeating again haven't you!

Heidi:
Uh, no I haven't.

Sebastian:
Then explain to me why there is black forest cherry cake in your cleavage!

Bletch:
[heading to the golf course] Hey Barry, how's your handicap?

Barry the Bulldog:
She's at home boss. Baking a cake.

[Bletch and his henchman laugh]

Cedric:
This is a lovely golf course, I'm tempted to join the club meself.

Bletch:
No chance of that I'm afraid, Cedric.

Cedric:
You mean they discriminate against Scots?

Bletch:
No, they just don't want a**holes in the clubhouse.

Trevor:
All right, you fat slag! Move your ass!

Heidi:
How dare you speak to me like that! You horrible, spiteful little rat!

Trevor:
I've heard better singing from a mongoose with throat cancer!

Heidi:
That's it, I've had enough! I am going straight to Bletch!

[last lines of the film]

Arthur:
Miss Heidi. I know you're a real star and all that. But I'm afraid I'm gonna have to dub you in.

Heidi:
Could you do one last thing, Arthur?

Arthur:
Anything, Heidi.

Heidi:
Play "The Garden of Love".

Bletch:
[last words before his death] Oh, sh*t!

Guppy:
Is something the matter, Mr. Bletch?

Abi:
Please do not interrupt me, I am traveling on the astral plane.

Trevor:
What are you doing here, pincushion?

Robert:
I was just watching the chowus.

Trevor:
Hey, you're that new boy here, aren't you?

Robert:
Yes, I am. I just stawted today. I'm Wobewt.

Trevor:
You may be Wobewt to your friends, but you're fly sh*t to me! Piss off!

Robert:
Yes, siw.

[heading to the golf course]

Bletch:
When are we due on the course?

Barry:
One o'clock sharp. It's all arranged.

Bletch:
Barry, how's your handicap?

Barry:
She's at home, baking a cake, boss.

[Bletch and Barry laugh]

Madame Udder:
Oh, no! No, no. No, help, somebody! No, no!

Masked Masochist:
Take that, you b*tch!

Madame Udder:
I beg you, please, no, stop it!

Masked Masochist:
Call me "Sir", slut!

Madame Udder:
Ow!

Robert:
Weave hew awone! You wottew! Awe you aww wight, madam?

Trevor:
Cut!

Madame Udder:
Jesus Christ!

Trevor:
You have a nasty habit of sticking your nose in where it's not wanted.

Robert:
I'm sowwy.

Trevor:
You ruined my take, kid. I never do two takes!

Robert:
I didn't know it was a fiwm.

Madame Udder:
Hurry it up, I'm freezing!

Robert:
I'm sowwy for intewwupting. I won't distuwb you any wongew.

Trevor:
We'll skip the whipping. Let's move on to the blowj*b. Where's the Masked Masochist? Oh, Christ, that's all I need! He's carked! Didn't you realize you were sitting on his face?

Madame Udder:
I felt a bit uncomfortable, but I thought it was my hemorrhoids.

Trevor:
What the hell? Maybe I can sell it as a snuff movie.

Madame Udder:
Well, you'll have to find a substitute. I don't do self abuse.

Trevor:
No worries, Daisy. I know just the guy.

Sebastian:
All right everybody, from the top! Music, please!

Barry:
[sings in Italian]

Sebastian:
Stop!!!

Barry:
Oh, for Christ sake! What the hell was wrong with that?

Sebastian:
Who is holding that red pennant?

Robert:
Me, siw.

Sebastian:
And what on earth do you think you're doing?

Robert:
I'm patwowwing the moat, siw.

Sebastian:
Patrolling the moat? I see. You were instructed to stay upstage left.

Robert:
Itawian pennant beawews of the 17th centuwy wewe fwequentwy known to patwow the wampawt, on the wookout for Tuwkish invadews.

Sebastian:
How very elucidating.

Robert:
I've been weading up on it, siw. My dwama teachew at schoow said I shouwd awways weseawch a wowe thowoughwy.

Sebastian:
Really? Well let me tell you something. This is a television variety show, not a homage to Soviet Realism! Good grief! I asked for a pennant, not a pedant! All right, again! From the top!

Barry:
[sings in Italian]

Robert:
Excuse me!

Sebastian:
Stop!

Barry:
Oh, sh*t!

Sid:
Oh, God!

Sebastian:
What is it?

Robert:
It's just... Weww, I'm having twoubwe with my motivation. I don't undewstand why I wouwd wemain stiww when the scene itsewf suggests vigowous physicaw action, dangew even.

Sebastian:
I suppose you'd like everyone to stop singing while you come forward to do a little war dance center stage. Is that it?

Robert:
Weww, it had cwossed my mind!

Sebastian:
Oh, my God!

Arthur:
Sorry, guv, I hate to interrupt, but it don't look like the knife thrower's assistant is going to pull through. Shall I cancel Wynyard's act entirely?

Sebastian:
I think not. I've got just the substitute.

Arthur:
Here! You stuck it in the wrong way round!

Trevor:
I'm sorry. I didn't know worms had nerves.

Robert:
Evew since the nightmawe of Vietnam, he's been a hopewess dwug addict. It made me weawize just how wucky I am.

Lucille:
How lucky we both are! I'm so glad we decided to get engaged.

Robert:
Good wuck fow tonight, Wucy.

Lucille:
Are you nervous?

Robert:
Just a bit.

Lucille:
Me too.

Robert:
Actuawwy, I'm tewwibwy newvous. This is my fiwst show.

Lucille:
You'll be wonderful. I know you will.

Trevor:
I hope I'm not interrupting.

Lucille:
I was just dressing for the show.

Trevor:
So I see.

Lucille:
What do you want?

Trevor:
Oh, a moment of your time. We've got something to celebrate.

Lucille:
What's that?

Trevor:
Your new career. Lucille, I'm gonna put you in the movies.

Lucille:
Movies!

Trevor:
I've been watching you for some time. You've got that indefinable something. Star quality!

Lucille:
That's my real ambition, to be in films!

Trevor:
I've got a meaty part for you.

Lucille:
Will I have to audition?

Trevor:
That's what I'm here for.

Lucille:
I feel woozy.

Trevor:
Here, let me loosen your clothes. What beautiful white fur you've got, my dear.

Robert:
Wuciwwe, you weft this in my woom...

Trevor:
Take a hike! Can't you see that we're busy?

Robert:
Wuciwwe!

Trevor:
Oh, Jesus!

Lucille:
Robert?

Robert:
You've been dwinking!

Trevor:
It's OK. I've finished with her anyway. Oh, go for your life, kid. She's a real good ride.

Robert:
How couwd you do this?

Lucille:
Robert!

Robert:
Wuciwwe, how couwd you?

Lucille:
No! Robert! Wait!

Heidi:
It wasn't my fault.

Sebastian:
You've been overeating again!

Heidi:
Uh, no, I haven't.

Sebastian:
There is Black Forest cherry cake in your cleavage!

Heidi:
Ooh! How did that get there?

Sebastian:
You know what chocolate does to your system.

Heidi:
It was only a small wedge.

Sebastian:
Your contract specifically states you are forbidden to eat gateaux on the day of a performance.

Heidi:
I was depressed.

Sebastian:
You're depressed? We're going out live in three hours, for God's sake!

Heidi:
Don't speak to me like that! You don't understand! None of you understand! Bletch! Bletch!

Sebastian:
Suddenly, I feel very, very old.

F. W.:
Kill me if you want to, Harry. It's too late. It won't make any difference. The story's already gone to press.

Harry:
You overgrown maggot! You're bluffing!

F. W.:
Am I, Harry?

Newspaper Mouse:
Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Famous Feeble has death row sex disease!

F. W.:
Congratulations, you're front-page news.

Newspaper Mouse:
Extra, extra! Read all about it! Extra! Extra, extra! Sex disease strikes Feeble fraternity. Thank you, ma'am. Extra, extra! Sex disease... Thank you, sir.

Bletch:
Jesus Christ! Do you know anything about this, Trevor?

Trevor:
Not a thing, boss.

Bletch:
Why couldn't that goddamn bed-hopping bunny keep his member to himself? Who wrote this crap?

Trevor:
I got a good idea, boss.

Bletch:
Find him!

Robert:
I don't cawe what you've done, Wuciwwe. I wove you so vewy vewy much, and I want you to mawwy me.

Lucille:
Oh, Robert, I love you too! I was never unfaithful, it was Trevor. He drugged my drink and tried to ravish me.

Robert:
The diwty wat!

Bletch:
Christ!

[This catches Heidi's attention. She turns to Bletch.]

Bletch:
Heidi! Put the gun down!

[Heidi shoots at Bletch in the balcony. The balcony breaks and Bletch falls to the floor. Heidi prepares to finish Bletch off with the gun.]

Bletch:
Heidi, for God's sake! Heidi, I still love you!

Heidi:
[tearfully] Bletch...

[Suddenly, Heidi gets shot. She cries out as she falls to the floor. Trevor is standing nearby with a gun.]

Bletch:
Kill her, Trevor!

Trevor:
It'll be a pleasure, boss.

Robert:
You wottew!

[Robert yells as he swings down, knocking Trevor down. Robert falls and rolls out of sight, causing Lucille to scream. Before Trevor can get up, Heidi picks up the gun and shoots Trevor dead. Bletch is about to lunge at Heidi, but Heidi turns around and puts the gun in his mouth.]

Bletch:
Oh, sh*t!

[Heidi blows Bletch's brains out, and the walrus falls dead.]

Vietnamese Gophers:
Educator gopher: (pointing Chuck, Wynyard, and Jim to a blackboard that says "Lyndon Johnson is very bad egg") You... read... You... read.