=======EXPIRATION DAY=============
References
+ "Brak Presents the Brak Show Starring Brak"
- A talking potted plant as a news anchor.
+ "Full Metal Jacket"
- A movie. Zorak says "Full metal Jacka**" to Thundercleese.
+ Orange Julius
- a fast food restaurant chain. Sheriff Julius Orange is mentioned.
+ "Steel Magnolias"
- a movie. Brak calls Thundercleese a "steel magnolia."
+ The Three Stooges
- Brak says "Moitilize" for "Murderize", like Curly.
Comments and other observations:
When Thundercleese is singing the Robotic Hymn of Doom, it sounds like he's saying something backwards. Curious, I recorded him singing it and played it in reverse. Sure enough, he was singing "Why are you listening to this song backwards? You could have been on a date with a girl." Wow!
Quotes and scene summary:
(Dad and Mom are in the kitchen.)
Dad: Say, mother, do you find me more attractive like this (puts his hand on his chin like he's thinking) or like this? (Puts his arm up in the air with his index finger up.)
Mom: Can I see them again?
Dad: Of course (he does the poses again back and forth a few times.)
Mom: It's so difficult to choose.
Dad: Think it over and get back to me. I'll be here all day.
(Brak zooms in.)
Brak: Say hello to Brak. Fully rested and barrel-chested.
Dad: Brak, am I more handsome with arms folded or not folded? Which do you prefer?
Mom: I like the unfolded.
Dad: What's wrong with the folded?
Mom: Well, there's nothing wrong with...
Dad: Let the boy answer. He's got eyes in his head. Make the call.
Brak: I don't know, Dad. I think I like the folded.
Dad: Your mother doesn't like this one. She thinks it makes me look hideous and ugly.
Mom: I never said that.
Brak: Why do you wanna know, Dad?
Dad: Because there comes a time in a man's life when he needs to look his very best. When that time comes for me, Brak, I don't want to be caught with my pants down, I'll tell you that.
(Dad stands up on his chair.)
Dad: Let me show you what that would look like.
Mom (stern): Sit down.
Dad: (sits back down) I look better sitting, anyway.
Mom: Whatever you say. (to Brak.) Brak, I need you to go down the street and invite Thundercleese to dinner. It's his birthday, you know.
Brak: I know, Mom. That's why I got him these! (shot widens to reveal Brak has a jug in each hand.) You know how much he likes jugs.
Dad: Brak, I ... I think we need to have a little talk.
Brak: No time for that, Dad. I need to get these babies over to Thunderclese! Here I go!
(Cut to Thundercleese standing outside his house, singing in a foriegn language. Brak walks up to him.
Brak: Hey, Mr. Thundercleese. What's that you were singing?
Thundercleese: It is the Robotic Hymn of Doom.
Brak: Well, I always say nothing livens up a Robotic Hymn of Doom better than an amazing pair of jugs! Happy birthday, chunky!
Thundercleese: They're beautiful. On any other day, I would revel in their splendor and add them to my collection. But today is my darkest day.
Brak: What're you talkin' bout? It's your birthday. Aren't you supposed to be happy?
Thunderclees: Not on this birthday. At dawn this morning, my weapons system were deactivated.
Brak: What? How come?
Thundercleese: I am now considrered old and obsolete.
Brak: Who did this to you?
Thundercleese: My creators: Moroccobotics.
Brak: Lemme at 'em! I'll moidelize the joint!
Thunderclesse: The only thing for me now is to retire to my fortress and rust.
Brak: Well, who's gonna take care of your yard? It's not lookin' so good.
Thundercleese: I've been dreading this day for weeks. I was too depressed to fertilize.
(Zorak hops in.)
Zorak: I'll fertilize it for ya. Game on, baby! Yeah, I'm talkin to you, full-metal jacka**!
Brak: Zorak, quit givin' him the business. They shut off his weapons today. He can't fight anymore.
Zorak: Really? So if I was, to say, throw something at him...
Brak: Well, why would you wanna do ...
(Zorak picks up Brak and throws him at him. Brak falls to the ground after impact.)
Brak: Oof! That hurt.
Zorak: Ha! How do you like it?
Thundercleese: I did not like it. But I will not reltaliate. I don't care anymore.
Zorak: Yeah? Well, do you care to kiss this? (points to his butt.) Come on, kiss it! Kiss it!
(Thundercleese begins to fire up.)
Zorak: Fire it up, bonehead! See what ya got left!
(But Thundercleese's arm becomes red and smoke comes out. He stops and his ar drops.)
Zorak: Ha!
Thundercleese: Alas. I am humiliated. I am no longer a worthy foe. Curse you, Moroccobotics, Incorporated!
Brak: Aw, come on, birthday boy! Don't be so down in the dumps! Let's go down to Davy Jones's Locker and drown your troubles in sweet meat droppings.
(Thundercleese walks to his front door.)
Thundercleese: I'm finished with gravy. I'm finished with everything.
Brak: But, but, but...
Thundercleese: Farewell, Brak.
(The door slams shut.)
Brak: Farewell, my sweet magnolia. (Starts singing) My hero, my neighbor, at the very least my friend / If ever I should see you again, I'd say / How you doin' pal? / Funny runnin' into you like this. / How long have you been shoppin' here / Did you know the grapes are on sale? / I'm a little tight / Can you lend me a five? / But for now, I'll just say, goodbye.
(while Brak was singing, Zorak slipped into Thundercleese's house through an open window. Cut to Dad and Mom in the kitchen.
Dad: Left side? (turns his head to the left) Right side? (turns his head to the right.) Brows up? (lifts his eyebrows up) Brows down? (lowers his eyebrows down.) Mustache? (nothing.) No mustache (his mustache disappears)
Mom: Not now, hon. The news is on.
Anchorman: Your liver may be plotting against you and your family! Don't miss part two of our special report: "Your Liver: The Enemy Within".
Mom: Oh dear.
Dad: Don't be frightened, mother. They're just trying to scare us to drum up ratings.
Anchorman: You don't know anything! You're a fool! On a lighter note, yet another giant asteroid is headed for a doomsday collision to our planet. But not to worry. Thundercleese will save us. He always does.
(Brak zooms in.)
Brak: No, he won't!
Anchorman: Of course he will. Now shut up, and goodnight.
Brak: This is a calamity, maeder and paeder. That asteroid's gonna smash us flatter than skinny paper-thin lumberjacks!
Dad: Don't be such a dreadful alarmist. You heard the news jockey. Thundercleese will use his weapons to rescue us.
Mom: So you see, you have nothing to worry about.
Brak: You don't understand, Mom. Thundercleese's weapons don't work anymore. He's been deactivated.
Mom: Now who would do such a thing to a nice man like Thundercleese, especially on his birthday?
Brak: Moroccobotics, Incorporated, that's who, thank you for asking. They said he was too old.
Dad: Well, we're all going to die. (sarcastically) That's just great.
Brak: But I don't wanna die! I'm almost finished with my macrame!
Dad: Brak, stop driving your little baby car around St. Babysburg and take your asteroid smashing like a man.
Brak: Wait a minute. I've got an idea. We need to go over to Moroccobotics and get him to rearm Thunderclese so he can save us so we can live. Hooray for Brak, and his idea. Hooray.
Dad: You go ahead, Brak. Your mother and I are going to stay here and play snugglebunnies.
Mom (stern): You're going with him.
Dad: Yes, ma'am.
Cut to Brak and Dad in the car. Dad is driving, but he can't see.)
Dad: Brak, I can't see. Am I on the road?
Brak: Not really. Gee, wonder how my ol' pal Thunderclese is holding up.
(cut to Thundercleese and Zorak in Thundercleese's fortress. They are standing next to a jug on a pedestal.)
Zorak: This looks expensive. I'm gonna break it.
Thundercleese: Please don't. I was awarded that jug for...
(Zorak breaks it.)
Zorak: Ha! Is this a picture of your mom? She looks a little dry.
Thundercleese: Please don't.
Zorak: Have a drink, Mom. (Zorak flushes the picture down the toilet.)
Zorak: Oh yeah, that's the stuff.
(Cut to Moroccobotics, Inc.)
Slappy: Slappy Morocco, at your service, gentlemen. How can I assist you?
Dad: We are somewhat concerned about this little asteroid situation.
Brak: Why'd you turn off Thundercleese?
Slappy: Ah yes, the Thundercleese model. I developed it when I was 14. Not bad for a first project, but that unit was much too durable.
Dad: What are you saying? Or how 'bout (angrily) What are you saying?
Slappy: I'm saying I need products that will malfunction and need to be replaced at great expense. So feast your eyes on the future, gentlemen. I give you Palmcleese.)
(A tiny version of Thundercleese pops out from a hole in Slappy's desk.)
Brak: Oh will you look at that? It's a little baby Thundercleese! Is he potty trained? Can he go by himself?
Palmcleese: Stand down, creature, or fear my wrath!
Slappy: I have miniaturized the Palmcleese (ed: should be Thundercleese) circuitry without compromising his destructive power.
Palmcleese: I am a superior model. I will now demonstrate my superiorness! Away!
(he flies off.)
Slappy: The situation will soon be under control. I'm a genius! Watch the screen, my friends.
(Palmcleese flies at the asteroid, but to no avail. The asteroid hits him.)
Palmcleese: Aah! It hurts!
(Palmcleese explodes.)
Brak: Oh no! It looks like Palmcleese has been astro-smacked!
Slappy: Yes, but fear not. I have an even smaller and more efficient model that I'm beta-testing. Puffins, send me Microcleese!
Puffins (through the speaker): We can't find him! We made him too small!
Slappy: You're fired, Puffins. You're not a genius. Well, I guess we're all going to die.
Dad (who is now reading a paper. Puts the paper down.) Aiee!
Brak: Not if you reactivate Thundercleese. Open up your headholes, Slappy and listen while I testify. (singing) There's an asteroid comin' in the dead of the night / and it's gonna smash us to bits / We need our trusty Thundercleese / before that mother hits! / Oh we both know what must be done / Do it, Slappy, while we're young / Turn on Thundercleese / Please! (quits singing.)
Slappy: Your song has deeply moved me. Especially that "smashed to bits" part. Puffins, reactivate Thundercleese.
Dad: Uh, sir, you...you let Puffins go.
Slappy: Did I? Oh well. Computer, reactivate Thundecleese!
Computer: How could you fire your own father, you heartless b******.
Slappy: Fine. I'll do it myself.
(he does.)
Brak: Thanks, Slappy. I'm gonna go tell Thundercleese the good news!
(Cut to Zorak, who has destroyed almost everything Thundercleese owns, and a very sad Thundercleese.)
Zorak: C'mon, where's the rest of your stuff? I wanna bust it up.
(The camera goes completely on Thundercleese.)
Thundercleese: You have destroyed everything I own, except for my...
(a sound of something breaking.)
Thundercleese: That's all of it.
(Brak zooms in.)
Brak: Thunderclese, good news! You got your powers back! You're up and running, buddy!
Thundercleese: Can this be true?
Brak: And how! Why don't you boot up and give it a try?
Zorak (with a British accent while Thundercleese fires up.) Oh, don't be that way, mate. I was just having a spot of fun.
(Thundercleese blasts Zorak. Zorak is completely gone.)
Thundercleese: All systems go! I'm back!
Brak: You go get you some, buddy!
(Thundercleese flies off.)
Brak: Get up there and kick some asteroid!
(Later, on TV they show Thundercleese destroying the asteroid.)
Anchorman: And that was the scene this morning as Thundercleese destroyed the asteroid and saved us all. Locally, Sheriff Julius Orange declared the liver replication epedemic completely under control.
(The TV turns off. A still shot of the TV off.)
Dad: Oh is it, now?
(Cut to Mom, Dad and Brak sitting in the den. They've been turned into livers! They laugh as the credits roll. Zorak's liver, with gloves, hops in and laughs with them.)