4101: I, DUCKMAN ================ Typed by J.G.Harston mdfs.net INTRO scantily-clad female nurse screams... and screams... and screams words in background Policeman answers phone. Screams from phone. POLICEMAN: This sounds like more than we can handle. Duckman's pad. DUCKMAN: Amusing, it's not without a certain understated ... Screams Chase sequence DUCKMAN: Unhand her... cad, or i'll have to... disarm you. He he. Save that for my next book. ABDUCTOR: Stay back Duckman, or it'll get ugly. I said stay back... One more step and I'll... I'll... I'll... and I'll... Changes to become TV host. HOST: Pull back this curtain! Audience cheers. HOST: That's right, it's "This could be your life", the show that each week takes a memorable personality we can cross- promote in the evening news and asks the burning question: what makes him or her so unique, so special, so one-of-a- kind we'll watch them on TV rather than go out and have a life of our own. Tonight's guest, that incomparable crime-fightig hero... Duckman! AUDIENCE: Duckman! Duckman! Duckman! DUCKMAN: What? This is for me? HOST: Well, Duckman, according to your family, you're not an incomparable crime-fighting hero, you're not special or unique, in fact there's absolutely nothing memorable about you at all! DUCKMAN: Jerks up in bed. Gropes for glasses/eyes. Puts glasses/eyes on. DUCKMAN: Arrgghh!. Smoke! Smoke! Need a smoke. Yeow! Sleurp Bernice has back to duckman. BERNICE: What's the matter? You seem a little down this morning. It's ok, you can tell me about it, I'm here for you. DUCKMAN: Well, if you really wanna know... BERNICE: Ah harr... DUCKMAN: I had that dream again... BERNICE: Ohh... DUCKMAN: The one where no-one cares about anything I say or do... Bernice turns around. BERNICE: Quiet, you worthless sack of pillow stuffing, I'm on the phone! We'll talk at lunch. Duckman, you left feathers on the sink last night, you were suppose to get your dog neutered, I caught him looking looking funny at the hamster again, and you've been smoking! I can smell it on your breath! DUCKMAN: I was not smoking. You can't accuse me of something I wasn't even doing. BERNICE: Oh yeah, then you were sucking on the bottom of an ashtray like some pathetic and disgusting nicotine junkie. DUCKMAN: That's better. BERNICE: I'm telling you for the last time Duckman, I don't want this house smelling of your stale old cigarette butts. GRANDMA-MA: DUCKNAN: Like my stale old butts are the problem around here. BERNICE: Ahh... Grandma-ma can't help it, she's comatose. DUCKMAN: Arrgh! BERNICE: And you will be too if you touch the children's breakfast. DUCKMAN: Fine. I'll make my own breakfast. *Again!* No fats, no preservatives, no red and yellow dyes, hrrrr. Shows you what happens when you let a bunch of pasty-faced pansy-wipe scientists get you all worked up over a few carcinogens. AJAX: Yeast cakes! Every bite a nutritional pot-pourri. DUCKMAN: Ahh. Morning son. How's school? AJAX: BERNICE: There's my stopwatch. CHARLES & MAMBO: Is not/Is So/Is not/Is so. CHARLES(?): Your theory totally overlooks the autological side. MAMBO(?): And yours underestimates the cartesian perspective on anti-social pathology. CHARLES(?): Freudian! MAMBO(?): Jungian! They bash their heads together DUCKMAN: Charles! Mamba! Knock it off! you're giving *me* a headache! BERNICE: Boys... not in front of grandma-ma. Bernice vacuums Grandma-ma. CHARLES & MAMBO: Yeast cakes! They take some cakes. CHARLES & MAMBO Good morning Grandma-ma. DUCKMAN: That's it! I've had it! For all the response I get around here I might as well be invisible! Duckman fades. DUCKMAN: I know your mother died. I know she left you and the house to her *sister*, but I still *live* her, I'm still the *man* of the house. And I demand to be heard, to be recognised, to be... Duckman fades to invisibility. GRANDMA-MA: Outside. Duckman walks to car. DUCKMAN: So, my sister-in-law is a walking quisanart(?), my children do treat me like some kind of skin rash, but at least I'm... freeway close! Drives round corner into freeway traffic jam. Duckman in car. DUCKMAN: I don't get it. I brake for animals... if they're big enough to dent my car. I don't pop any zits above the eye line. I treat others the way I'd to be treated. *Same to you, sister!* Devote their lifetime to the church, they think they own the road. It would just be nice for once to be noticed. Get the kind of attention I deserve. DUCKMAN: Note to myself... put thumb-tacks in the bird-feeder. Duckman enters his office. DUCKMAN: What the hell are YOU starin' at!?! FLUFFY: Hello Mr. Duckman. Being aware of your little digestive problem we made you a bran muffin and a mug of steaming liquid grit. URANUS: Be good to your bowels, and they will be good to you. FLUFFY: We also called your doctor to tell him we think you've been a naughty detective. You've been smoking again. URANUS: And he said... quote... keep it up and his heart'll bust and splatter all over the inside of his tar-filled lungs... end quote! FLUFFY: So, we're set traps in all your cigarette packages. Fluffy gets destroyed. URANUS: Don't worry about Fluffy, sir. That's the good thing about being stuffed. We're very resilient. Aaa! eek! URANUS: That Mr Duckman. He's getting much better at expressing his emotions. DUCKMAN: So what if they work for free. The last thing I need this morning is a couple of touchy-feely secretaries some cat coughed up. Duckman enters inner office. DUCKMAN: Fine! Thank you! Just peachy. And how are you today? CORNFED: Aces, duckman. DUCKMAN: I'm doomed, cornfed, doomed... to live an unnoticed life, an anonymous drone, stepped over and unappreciated 'till the day I die. CORNFED: Is it me, or does your hair have more body? DUCKMAN: Are you listening to me? I'm invisible, Corny! I'm falling through the cracks without leaving a mark! My own family ignores me, and who can blame them? There's nothing special about me, nothing unique. I'm just one more duck detective who works with a pig and lives with the twin sister of his dead wife, three sons on two bodies and a comotose mother- in-law who's got some much gas she's a fire hazard. CORNFED: Sure. But there are things that stand out about you, too. DUCKMAN: Like what? Name one thing about me that stands out! That I'll be remembered for. CORNFED: Is that a zeppelin? DUCKMAN: Oh nice! You see, I'm not unique, I'm not special, I don't even have a *coffee* mug with my name on it. Holds coffee mug with "whoever" on it. CORNFED: It's the dream again, Duckman. You're letting it win. I know. I used to have a reccurring dream. I'd dream I fell and hurt my head my head on a fishbowl, hurt myself just bad enough to work graveyard shift at a convience store. A group of Hari Krishnas always came in at 4am and bought 16 gallons of Mr. Slushi and a package of banana flavored Ding Dongs, then the Swedish Bikini Team jumped out of a magazine and read Moby Dick to me inside a giant carton of cottage cheese. Why? I'd ask myself, what could it mean? Am I mad or is the world just a mystery to complex to understand? Duckman taps foot... DUCKMAN: Hu hm.. Getting back to *me*! f/u: Mr Duckman, a package just came. f/u But we think we should send it back. f/u: It's wrapped in non-biodegradable plastic tape. DUCKMAN: Just open it! Not that I ever get anything good. No-one out there cares if I live or die either. Filing draw opens. Cornfed is inside. CORNFED: Good news. some-one cares. DUCKMAN: It's true Corney, some-one sent a bomb! To me! Some-one actually wants me dead! But who? I can't think of anyone who'd wanna kill me. CORNFED: Well, there's your paper boy. The neighbour with the dog you set the bear traps for. The cab drivers' union. The father of that ballarina. DUCKMAN: Never mind. I know who it has to be. Let's go. CORNFED: Two of your uncles. Scout troup 44. f/u: Mr Duckman. If you could find our arms and legs, this radiator's getting a tad warm... Bursts into flames. At the prison. Sign says "xx" days since out last riot. DUCKMAN: Thanks for letting me see the prisoner, warden. Obviously, this is a very serious matter. I'm the one who had him... arrested. I'm sure he's seeking revenge... trying to violently end my life... ... Body search ends. WARDEN: Why do you think it's him? DUCKMAN: I'm a detective, warden, we make a living on our hunches. I was able to eliminate others I've captured because our cater-to-everyone-but-the-victem legal system let them off on technicalities. CORNFED: They weren't guilty. DUCKMAN: Yeah, yeah, that kind of thing. Can we just get on with this? Prisoners watch then as they walk pas the cells. DUCKMAN: Lucky for them, they're behind bars. I'd love to teach these brain-dead bread-and-water eating *scumbugs* some manners. Cell doors open, prisoners surround Duckman. WARDEN: Did I mention we're on the honour system? DUCKMAN: He he... Oh.. Prison humour... Fellers... The fact is, some of my best friend are bread-and-water eating scumbags. PRISONERS: ... He's right... Prisoners return to their cells. DUCKMAN: What happens, warden? What snaps in a man? What makes him sink so low that he ends up spending an empty lifetime in a hell-hole like this? WARDEN: Good dental plan. Oh, you meant the prisoners. Who knows. Too many violent cartoons when they were kids. WARDEN: Rehab. We like to aclimate our prisoners not just back into society, but into high society. There are those, of course, who are too far gone to be rehabilitated. White collar criminals. There's gang activity brewing. They're wearing their colours today. Insider traders in the read ties, S&L executives in the blue. PRISONER: Zero coupon bonds! Yers.. zero coupon bonds! PRISONER: WARDEN: It's a very delicate situation. one false step could cause a full-scale riot. Duckman trips over barbell. Riot breaks out. Shot of outside of prison. Sign changed to read "___ days since our last riot". DUCKMAN: He he... frees up a few more cells. WARDEN: The cell of Wolfgang Krakow. The cannabilistic maniac who's committed some of the most horrendous crimes known to mankind. DUCKMAN: Euww uwww. I'm shaking. I caught him once. I think I'm ready for whatever he's got. Masked face jumps out of the window. DUCKMAN: Arrggh!!! Face disappears. Door opens. Krakow without face mask appears. KRAKOW: Ha ha ha. Sorry... did I scare you? A little fun I have. people seem to expect it. Please, do come in. SECRETARY: You have a photo session at four, *with* the mask. SECRETARY: The mayor's asked you to do two more cannibal awareness fliers. SECRETARY: The Meat Council called again, and so did Heinz. KRAKOW: Impressive, non? What a monstrously grotesque crime and a good agent can do. I don't believe I caught your name. DUCKMAN: You know who I am, pal. I'm the guy who put you away! KRAKOW: Ah yes, Darkman, dd-Darkwing, Daffy! DUCKMAN: Duckman! KRAKOW: Duckman! Precisely. The one I tripped over. DUCKMAN: We... don't need to go into that now. CORNFED: His sister-in-law was chasing him with a waffle iron when he slipped on his son's skateboard and rolled into the street just as Krakow was running to his getaway car, causing Krakow to trip over Duckman, flying into a passing police car. DUCKMAN: You think that was an accident? Ha ha ha. And now you've sworn revenge! You're tring to kill me! SECRETARY: Ah, yes, ah, the parole board called, they'd like to discuss releasing you tomorrow at two. KRAKOW: Can't, PTA's here at two, try breakfast, month on Wednesday. Getting caught's the best thing that ever happed to me, Ducktape, I've become rich and famous in prison. I've even helped to erase the silly stigma attached to my particular avocation. Each twenty, twenty-five people, they *label* you. But thanks to my book - my favourite finger foods, 35 weeks as a national bestseller - what was once an unspeakable taboo is now a ... livestyle choice. SECRETARY: Arnold's on line one, wants to be in your next exercise video. Two's Gabow about your line of greeting cards. KRAKOW: Call them back. And of course I found relegion as well. Now I only eat fishermen on Fridays. He he he. Only kidding. And my success guarrantees that I'll be loved by millions, while you'll live and die in obscurity, so with regards to my having you killed, Darkmeat, why bother? DELIVERER: Special delivery! KRAKOW: Ah ha. I say, um. Another organ of some kind? Ha ha. Fans. If you could excuse me? Krakow leaves room to collect package. DUCKMAN: I don't buy what you're selling, Krakow. Every instinct I've honed over all my years as a detective tells me you're the only one who could be trying to kill me! DUCKMAN: Of course... I could be convinced otherwise... Duckman and Cornfed in Duckman's car. DUCKMAN: I'm feeling a little frazzled... [...] starting to unravel. I sure could use a chest full o' smoke about now... D'oww! This bomber's gonna kill me Cornfed! He finds me everywhere, in my office, in the prison... Cornfed picks up a parcel from the seat. CORNFED: In your car. DUCKMAN: Arrh! Duckman throws parcel out of the window. DUCKMAN: That was a close one Corney. At leat this time no-one got hurt. The parcel lands in the back of a truck. The truck drives to a hotel with a sign outside: "Convention of all important world leaders". DUCKMAN: I don't wanna miss things. I gotta take one more shot at talking to my kids. Connecting with 'em. You know... before... Duckman arrives at home. The children come out of the house. AJAX: [????] I've just had a thought. CHARLES/MAMBO: Bet it hurt. MAMBO/CHARLES: The first ones are always the hardest. AJAX: Is it possible to love a sandwich so much you don't want to eat it, 'cos then it'll be gone? DUCKMAN: Heyyy.. kids. I.. I was thinking we could spend a little bit of quality... AJAX: Bags the window closest to the exhaust. BERNICE: Oh, duckman, you're three minutes late. I gave your dinner to a man who came to the door selling blenders. And you got a message from some-one who said you made a mistake in your past and you're going to pay for it by being blown into a thousand little bits of flesh. I'll be back at nine thirty. DUCKMAN: But wait! kids! I wanted to... Bernice and children drive away. Duckman and Cornfed enter attic. DUCKMAN: The answer's here. The bomber said I made a mistake in my past. My whole past is in theis attic... What a pigsty! Cornfed looks offended. DUCKMAN: Oh... er... Figure of speech. Rummages through boxes. CORNFED: Ironic, isn't it? Your search through the past for clues to your killer's identity may actually provide clues to your own identity. The search in the end becoming man's ultimate search... the search for himself. Silent pause. DUCKMAN: You've got a large wad of broccoili stuck beteween your teeth. DUCKMAN: Here they are, I knew I had them. The answer's got to be in here. Home movies! CORNFED: Actually, I've been putting off regrouting that bathroom tile too long. Duckman sets up projector. DUCKMAN: This first one goes back to wher I was *really* young. Projector shows black-and-white a parody of "Steamboard Willy". Duckboy: *I* wanna be captain Micky: Okey dokey duckboy, I just wanna be fair. Even though you have been captain thirty-seven times in a row. Duckboy: I wan' it, I wan' it, I wan' it, I wan' it! Duckboy looks at screen. Duckboy: What the hell are *you* staring at? Mother Goose: Oh, well, Duckman. Just a reminder that treating others like this young mouse does is the surest road to a successful and rewarding life. Duckboy: I wan' it, I wan' it, I wan' it, I wan' it! Duckman takes film off projector DUCKMAN: So what? So the squeaky-voiced little rodent kissed a few rear ends and made a buck or two. Maybe there's something in these. Duckman puts another film in the projector. It shows a parody of Popeye. Duckman is Popeye, tied to a tree. Olive Oyle is tied to a railway line, and a train is coming. Olive: Heyylp Duckman, help! Eat your spinach, [??????] the ropes [???] Helllpppp meeee!!!! Olive: Hellllpp!!! Dukman: Who ever gets to be a hero eating spinach? Sucks a packet of "old tar" cigarettes out of his pocket Train runs past Duckman, running over Olive. Duckman takes film reel off the projector DUCKMAN: There's gotta be something good I hid in here. Projector shows a Yogi Bear spoof. Duckman is Booboo. Yogi: Helll-lo Mister Ranger, sir! Where should my son and I take our pickernick packet? One last camping trip together... before he goes to college and becomes bettttter than your avvvverage duck. Booboo: Err... Dad. I've decided not to go to college. Yogi: No college? That'd be a big booboo. You're going to college if I have to drag you there myself. Yogi chases BooBoo/Duckman past repeating background scenery. Duckman removes the film. DUCKMAN: Hah! Cornfed is now strapped to a rack with his eyes pinned open, looking haggard. There is one film left in the "unwatched" pile. Duckman starts it running. DUCKMAN: So, I met Beatrice instead. *That* wasn't a mistake. Simpson spoof starts. TV: Now, for this week's jackpot of thirty-two million dollars, the winning numbers are: 4... 11... 22... 51... and 88. Duckman/Homer: That' me! Woo hoo! I won... He drops the ticket. Duckman/Homer: D'oh! Baby Ajax/Bart eats the lottery ticket. Duckman/Homer: Argghhh!!! Stuffs vacuum cleaner hose down Ajax/Bart's throat to try and get the lottery ticket back. Beatrice/Marge: Duckman... you're not using my vacuum for *that* again? Duckman/Homer: [?????] can't help it. Beatrice/Marge: Honey, what am I going to do with you? Sometimes I think if anything ever happens to me I'd have to will those kids and this house to my sister. Duckman/Homer: Beatrice/Marge: Duckman/Homer: Don't worry, Beatrice. Nothing's ever going to happen to you. Beatrice/Marge: Ahhh... The film ends. CORNFED: Things sure have changed over the years. DUCKMAN: I miss her. You know, tomorrow would've been our wedding anniversary. I forgot. Guess I blacked it out. First one I'll be spending without her. CORNFED: That may explain the way you've been feeling lately. DUCKMAN: Yeow! DUCKMAN: It's a dud, Corney. We're safe. Hey, look. There's a note on the package: "I'll see you at your grave"... Maniacal laughter in background. DUCKMAN: It's him! CORNFED: Time for the obligatory chase. Bomber's car zooms off, follows by Duckman/Cornfed. One block away they stop outside a cemetary. DUCKMAN: What a yutz. Trying to hide in a glow-in-the-dark T-shirt. Might as well send up a warning flare. Warning flare explodes, lighting up the cemetary. DUCKMAN: What, no map? Cornfed points to a map pidded on the gate. It has "You are here" and "Mad Bomber" marked on it DUCKMAN: Du'wahhh!!! Duckman falls into an open grave. DUCKMAN: Arrghhh!!! DUCKMAN: What the? This is *my* plot! Beatrice's is right next to it... but... I never bought a headstone. BOMBER: *I* did, Duckman. It's a trap. DUCKMAN: I never saw it coming. DUCKMAN: Oh! Rest in peices! Blow me up! Oh! Did I mention how much I enjoyed your sense of irony? BOMBER: Actually.. I'm not gonna blow you up. I'm gonna chop you! Bomber starts a chainsaw. DUCKMAN: Arrgh!! The bomber trips over the grave stone. The Chainsaw flies though air. Duckman catches it. DUCKMAN: Play with tigers, you get covered in yellow hair. BOMBER: I'm sorry, I'm sorry. but I had to do something to get you back after you took those pictures of me having an affair. I know my wife paid you to do it, but it ruined my life. She left me, she was the only thing that made me special, now I'm a nobody, it's like I never even existed! Bomber cries. DUCKMAN: Wait a minute, pall, hold the phone. You saying I got *paid* on this job? Gee, I'd remember that... BOMBER: You know, you're right. You're not the guy. Sorry. it's just you look a lot like him. In fact, you look like a million other duck detectives, it's not like you stand out or anything. It's an honest mistake. No hard feelings. DUCKMAN: Ahh.. It's.. These things happen. Listen, I'm.. err.. I'm a little bit depressed to take you down to the police, can I trust you to turn yourself in? BOMBER: Yeah.. sure... Boy, do *I* feel stupid. DUCKMAN: Did you hear that, cornfed? I'm *not* special. Even my own killer doesn't think so. CORNFED: Get a hold of yourself, duckman. DUCKMAN: It's true, Cornfed. I'm just like that bomber, I... I lost my identity when I lost my wife. CORNFED: But you still have something he doesn't, remember? DUCKMAN: His chainsaw? CORNFED: Your childre. You're still the only father they have. That make you special. No-one else could have created the family you did... I mean that in a good way. DUCKMAN: Oh, what's the point? Their own mother didn't think I was up to raising them. Maybe I'm not. Maybe that's why they ignore me. Beatrice made me a better person, without her here to help, I'm... just not a very good father. Duckman drives back home. He parks at the end of the road, by a sign that says "???". AJAZ: Happy anniversay, Dad. First one without Mom. We know it's tough. We miss her too. Ajax gives Duckman half his sandwich. AJAZ: I do wanna tell you, the twins and me think you're doing a good job, Dad, and we love you. Ajax takes a bite from his sandwich. He looks at the remaining part, then gives it to Duckman. DUCKMAN: Thank you. Son. CREDITS