The Patrick Star Show (2021) s01e10 Episode Script

1
- Hi, I'm Patrick Star,
and I live with my parents.
Ow.
This is my dad.
[upbeat music]
This is my mom.
This is my sister.
She's shy.
This is my grandpa.
This is my room.
And this
this is my show!
[festive music]
- [humming melody]
Yep.
[chainsaw buzzing]
- [screams]
- Merry Christmas.
[electricity crackles]
- [screams]
[electricity crackling]
[grunts]
[laughs]
- Huh?
Odds Bodkins!
A severed telephone pole?
Why, that means
it's Christmas Eve!
I'm missing it!
[screams]
- Hmm.
- Hey!
Oh!
- [buzzing and grunting]
- Oh, yay!
- Yay!
Nice job
lighting the star, son.
- Ugh.
Whee.
- Don't hog the punch, dear.
Get your presents for everyone
and put them under the pole.
- And we're all expecting
better gifts this year,
big brother.
They better be awesome.
- Ooh.
[soft dramatic music]
Oh, no.
I forgot
to get anyone anything.
There's gotta be gifts
around here somewhere.
Huh?
[chuckles]
Mm.
[grunts]
[chuckles]
Half-chewed candle, gift!
Fully-chewed candle, gift!
Ooh, petrified underwear.
Gift!
Gift, gift, gifty gift
Gonna give a gift --
Ow!
- [barking]
- What's that, boy?
You say you stopped me
because I'm
about to give my family
garbage for Christmas?
- [barks]
- You're right, Ouchie.
I gave everyone
the same garbage last year.
You heard Squidina.
This year has to be awesome.
Oh, if only I had more time.
- [barks]
- Oh, yeah!
The time closet
will give me enough time
to find perfect Christmas gifts
for everybody.
[laughs]
[chuckles]
First, I'll get Dad
the latest shaver
from the future.
Boop, boop, boop, boop,
beep, bop, bop.
[soft dramatic music]
- Uh-huh, mm-hmm.
Look alive, Pat-Tron.
We need a Christmas tree,
and this planet
is crawling with them.
Behold!
Hm?
- Wild trees
are very dangerous, Captain.
According to my calculations,
your only chance of cutting
them down is with one of these.
- Put that baby toy away,
Pat-Tron,
and watch in awe as I hogtie
these prickly beasts
with my bare musclebound hands.
[grunting]
[screams]
Ah!
Whoa!
[grunting and screaming]
- Greetings, future guy!
Can you help me?
I'm looking
for the latest electric shaver
to give my stubbly old Dad
for Christmas.
- Oh, give him this.
Captain Quasar doesn't need it.
It'll shave anything.
It's cutting edge technology.
- Wow, thanks!
- Mistletoe proximity alert.
- Hm?
Oh.
[romantic music]
Well, nice doing business
with you too.
- Ow, ow, ooh, ah.
Ugh, ah, ow.
Pat-Tron, forget what I said.
I need the laser!
Pass me the laser!
Baby wants his laser!
[screams]
- Dad's gift is in the bag.
Next on the list is GrandPat.
Hm, I wonder
what old people like?
- Who hungry?
Me cook food with fire.
Me got pterodactyl wings
and dino egg omelets,
all with a side order of fire!
So come on down
to Caveman Jenkins Farms
or Sun God will destroy us all
with fire!
- Come to
Caveman Jenkins Farms
where our motto is
- Fire!
[laughs]
- I bet GrandPat
would love some vintage food
from his old neighborhood.
Leedle, leedle, leedle, lee!
[bluegrass music]
- [grunts]
- [moos]
- [screams]
- That looks--ooh.
Mmm, lizardy.
I don't think
anybody would mind
if I took just one little egg.
- [clucks]
- [screams]
- [clucks]
- Ah, perfect!
Now it'll be easy
to grab an egg!
- [clucks]
- Shh!
I guess it takes a smart cookie
to fool a dumb animal.
Hm?
- [squawks aggressively]
- [chuckles]
[screams]
I didn't mean you!
[screams]
- [screeches]
I spy mistletoe.
Mwah!
- Yuck!
Why does everyone
keep kissing me?
- [barking]
- Ow!
Oh, you're right, Ouchie.
I do need to stay focused.
Hm, Mommy is next on the list,
and this year,
I want to give her
something really fun.
What did she
always used to say?
- There's no place more fun
than a carnival.
- Thanks, Mom.
- You're welcome, dear.
Ooh, mistletoe!
Mwah.
[laughs]
- Mom!
Beep, boop, boop.
Cool, smells like freaks.
The Bearded Blowfish?
Cool.
The SpongeKrab Twins.
What?
Fiji Mermaid?
Now I've seen everything.
Mom was right.
This is really fun.
Aw, but I still don't know
what she wants for Christmas.
The Tattooed Fish?
I'll get Mom a new tattoo
for Christmas!
- Ooh!
Break time.
- [chuckles]
- Mmm.
- Ow!
Man, getting a tattoo hurts.
- We're under the mistletoe.
How dare you?
- How dare who?
- [chattering]
- Hello there, cutie pie!
Aw, you look like
a perfect gift for Squidina,
and you just saved me
another trip.
I did it, Ouchie.
I got something
for everyone on my list.
I gotta get these gifts
under the pole.
- [French accent]
The next morning.
- I hope you all
like your gifts.
- Ooh.
- It's an electric razor
from the future, Dad.
- Hey.
Wow!
Now that's a close shave.
Thanks, son.
- Ugh, I hope it's not
another chewed up candle.
A dinosaur egg?
I haven't had
a pterodactyl omelet
since I was a cave boy.
Thank you, grandson.
- [caws]
- Oh!
[grunting]
[relaxing lullaby]
Wake me
when it's New Year's.
- Merry Christmas, Mom.
- Ooh!
A new tattoo?
[gasps]
How did you know?
- I love your gift,
big brother!
I'm calling him Maurice.
I've already taught him
a few tricks.
[whistles]
- [chattering]
- What I don't understand
is where you got
all the money to pay
for these extravagant gifts.
- Yeah, right?
[laughs]
What's money?
- That kid
stole my Laser Phaser!
- That kid stole my tattoo!
- He steal egg.
- [squawk]
- Oh,
so that's how you got 'em.
[together]
And we want 'em back.
- Happy holidays,
time travelers!
You're just in time
to open your presents.
- Gifts for us?
- Oh, you didn't
have to do that.
- Fire?
all: It's what I always wanted!
all: Thank you, Patrick!
- I'm glad somebody appreciates
my thoughtful gifts.
all: Patrick's under
the mistletoe.
- Stay away from me.
Stay away.
[screams]
- Oh, Patrick, if you don't
want people to kiss you,
don't wear a mistletoe hat.
- Oh, huh, I thought it was
because I'm so handsome!
Thanks, sis.
- Oh, whoa, ah, ah!
- Photo time!
Everybody say,
"Merry Christmas".
all: Merry Christmas!
[upbeat music]
- This is Perch Perkins
coming to you live
from the umpteenth annual
Klopnodian Heritage Festival!
Here you can taste
strange foods,
play bizarre games,
and ogle the freaky costumes
on display in broad daylight.
So bring the whole family down,
gawk at the screwballs,
and maybe try
a traditional fried mud pie.
Good Neptune!
That's real mud!
[laughter]
- I'm so happy to be sharing
my Klopnodian culture
with my family.
- According to this pamphlet,
Klopnod is the silliest place
in the ocean.
- And the weakest too.
In the 12th century,
my army invaded
and conquered Klopnod
in half a day.
- It says here
that your army lost,
and they named
a cream puff after you.
- GrandPat cream puffs.
Get your GrandPats here!
- More like cream tough!
Well!
- And here we have some more
traditional Klopnod dishes.
Hundred-year-old bread.
- [chomps]
- Phony bologna.
- Ah.
[grunting and struggling]
[grunting]
Whoa.
- Ow, my leg!
- And this one is my favorite.
Rock Soup.
- Uh
- Oh, Bunny?
Is it okay if I wear this
"Kiss me, I'm Klopnodian" shirt
if I'm not Klopnodian?
- No, wait, stop!
I'm married!
[screams]
- I'll show these Klops
who won the war!
- My other leg!
- Ugh!
[grunting]
Hm?
Name a cream puff
after me, will you?
- Loser!
Hmmph!
- Whoo-hoo-hoo!
- Hey, kids, I've got
a wonderful surprise for you.
You're going to be initiated
into the wonderful ways
of Klopnod.
It's what we call Gashpluckt.
I'm so proud of you two,
participating in
this family tradition
just like I did as a child.
- Father and son, come with us.
- Mother and daughter,
come with us.
[together]
Uh
- This is The Flop Sweat Lodge.
Klopnodian males
are afraid of everything,
and so we sweat.
This practice
is called Gaplork.
Now, let us perspire.
- [shivers]
- What's the matter, son?
Go ahead and sweat.
- Mm.
I can't do it.
[whispers inaudibly]
- Oh.
It seems the boy is sweat shy.
Would you mind turning away?
[grunt together]
- [inhales deeply]
[grunting and straining]
- Phew.
[together]
Mm-mm.
[dramatic folk music]
- In Klopnod, it is tradition
that only women folk
are allowed to swat sea flies.
The reason has been lost
to the ages.
We call this practice Foinsapp.
- Ooh.
- Uh
- It takes skill and artistry.
Observe.
- Oh!
[together]
Foinsapp!
- Foinsapp!
Foinsapp!
Foinsapp, foinsapp, foinsapp!
Foinsapp!
- Now it is your turn.
- But you've swatted
all the flies.
- [chuckles]
- Go ahead, dear.
- Foinsapp!
Foinsapp!
Foinsapp!
[grunts]
Ugh!
[screams]
[screaming]
- In Klopnod, all shelves
are 30 feet high because--
I don't know.
All Klopnodian boys
must master the shelf pole.
We call this Spladap.
The wooden objects on the shelf
go into the corresponding holes
in the table.
This you do
without leaving the pole,
assisted only
by the pole holder.
- Okay, here goes.
- Ooh!
- Put it in the round hole!
[upbeat folk music]
The round hole in the table!
- Okay, son.
Nice and easy.
- Nice and easy.
Whoa!
How'd I do?
- Wow, I did not even know
we had a square hole.
One more to go.
Get the star.
- That's it, son!
Just--yikes!
- [screams]
[grunts]
- Eep!
- Ah!
- I can't hold on!
- I'm peeling out!
[screams]
Spladap?
[whimpers]
[dramatic folk music]
- You will now learn
the proper folding and raising
of the Klopnodian flag.
This is called Katoof.
- That's not a flag.
It's a tablecloth.
And it's got
mustard stains on it.
- No, no, no.
- All right!
All right.
It's a flag.
- This is how we fold.
- You fold the flag,
and then you raise it?
[martial music]
Hm.
[grunts]
- [gasps]
It unfolded!
So disrespectful!
- Aw!
- Sis!
both: Aww.
- I'm so glad that's over,
big brother.
It was horrible.
- Thank goodness we'll
never have to do that again.
- And now it's time for you
to do that again.
You will show us
all you have learned
during the traditional
Klopnodian folk dance.
It is called Thewholeshebang!
Curtains up!
[crowd roaring]
- Do you hear that?
- Uh-huh.
- Our country's yards
are filled with clods
Dear old Klopnod!
Our country's yards
are filled with clods
Dear old Klopnod
- Foinsapp!
- [screams]
- [screams]
[crowd booing]
Hey!
Whoa!
Whoa!
all: Spladap! Spladap! Spladap!
- I don't wanna!
- Come on, kid.
Whoa, whoa!
- Wha--oh!
[folk music]
- Uh
[crowd chanting]
Katoof, Katoof, Katoof!
Katoof, Katoof, Katoof!
- [grumbles]
[crowd booing]
It's a table cloth!
[crowd booing]
- I'm Kloppin' outta here.
all: Gaplork!
All: Gaplork, Gaplork,
Gaplork, Gaplork!
- Sweat, son!
You have to sweat!
For dear old Klopnod,
Gaplork, son!
Gap that lork!
- I want to,
but everybody's looking.
[shivering]
- People of Klopnod
and Klopnod people,
my son would love
to sweat for you all,
but the boy is sweat shy,
so if it wouldn't be
too much trouble,
give the boy some privacy
while he sweats?
Would you mind?
- Yeah.
- Okay.
- Well, sure.
- The boy is shy.
- I'm sweat shy too!
- Yeah.
- [breathes deeply]
[straining]
[crowd gasping]
[enchanting orchestral music]
[cheers and applause]
- [screams]
Throw down your cream puffs,
you Klopnodians!
You're all my prisoners now!
[laughs]
After thousands of years,
I have my revenge!
[laughs]
- [gasps]
- Sea fly!
[together]
Foinsapp.
- Huh?
[screams]
I surrender!
I surrender!
- Wow, what a Gashpluckt day.
- I'd rather walk them
than swat them.
- Mmm.
- How do I turn these off?
- Son, it's time
I introduce you
to the wonderful world
of underarm corks.
[laughter]
- Foinsapp!
[upbeat music]