Taz-Mania

Chief:
As Chief of all you fabulous Mudpeople, it feels double-plus good to usher my son, Francis X. Bushlad, into manhood on this, his 13th birthday. (Francis smiles) Now, in keeping with the Mudpeople's centuries-old tradition, Bushy here must choose one of three tasks to complete his passage into manhood. One, perfore a hostile takeover of a Fortune 500 company (my personal favorite). Two, Accumulate a portfolio of stock with a net yield of no less than 36 percent per annum. Or three... trap a Tasmanian Devil.

Francis:
Oh, that's it! That's it! Number three! That's the one for me! Ahem, I, Francis X. Bushlad, shall venture forth, subdue the ferocious Tasmanian Devil, and drag him triumphantly back to camp... in time to catch Wall Street Week, of course. (everybody in the tribe laughs)

Chief:
But Bushlad, no member of the Mudpeople have chosen number three in 150 years.

Francis:
What Father is trying to say is, we're going soft! Bushlad will show the world that we're not just a bunch of bean-counters drooling over a profitable lawn-stand. Right, Bushdad?

Chief:
Knock yourself out, kiddo.

Taz:
Taz hate water! (frequently-repeated line)