Meet the Feebles1989

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!