Cow and Chicken (1997) s04e14 Episode Script
Monster in the Closet
1
Look, Crabs. Look what time it is.
You must go to sleep.
There is nothing to be afraid of.
Chicken?
Chicken, are you awake?
Chicken?
Chicken? Are you in the closet?
Crabs?
Did you leave the closet door open?
You didn't?
Okay. I will go with you.
Maybe it is a monster.
Remember
what Mom and Dad said, Crabs?
There's no such thing as monsters.
Hi. I'm Cow.
Hi. I'm a monster.
I'm sorry I scared you.
But it just gets so cramped
and stuffy in here.
Anyway, I'm scared of the dark.
Me, too.
Oh, I didn't mean to scare you, either,
Mr. Monster.
I will leave the door open
so you can have some air.
Thank you, Cow.
Back to bed, Crabs!
Goodnight, Mr. Monster.
Good night, Cow.
His name is Crabs. He is a warthog.
My cousin's a warthog.
Cow? Your cereal's getting cold!
Would you like some breakfast,
Mr. Monster?
Well, I do like waffles.
With maple syrup?
Oh, yes, please!
'Kay!
What's the matter, Cow?
Mom says
you are just a filament of my imagination.
Want to play jump rope?
Sure!
My mother, ♪
your mother lives across the lane ♪
My turn!
My mother, your mother ♪
Hey, guys! Check this out!
lives across the lane! ♪
Cow is skipping with a figment
of her imagination!
It is the ice cream man!
Does he have any waffles?
Well, what'll it be, young lady?
Two raspberry meat pops, please.
And do you have any waffles?
Oh, sorry. Fresh out of waffles.
These both for you?
Oh, no.
One is for my friend over there.
What friend?
Mr. Monster, of course.
Of course! Mr. Monster!
I don't know why he's so happy.
Well, he does own all that ice cream.
Hey! I was watching that!
Mr. Monster wants to watch
"The Adventures of Crabs The Warthog,
and Piles the Beaver." Don't you?
Cow, there is nobody there!
Your monster does not even exist.
Does too!
Does too!
Honey, I'm home!
Hello, Chicken.
Hey, Dad.
Hello, Cow.
Hi, Dad.
Hi, Dad.
Hello, Monster.
Monster?
What monster?
Dad? What happened?
Monster.
But there's no such thing.
I told you!
Take that monster back to the closet, Cow!
But, ma-ma?
Right now, young lady!
What monster?
Oh, do not be sad, Mr. Monster.
I shall visit you every day.
Promise?
I promise.
Cross my udders and hope to die!
Okay, then.
I'm home!
Geez, Cow! What is the rush?
What!
- Cow?
- Cow?
What's the matter?
Mr. Monster has run'ded away!
Oh, good!
I mean,
maybe it's for the best, sweetheart.
Monsters aren't meant
to be caged up, pumpkin.
They need to be free. To frighten people.
Not to be your friend.
Maybe he never even existed.
Jeez, the stupid delusional
Hey, Cow?
I think I found your monster.
It is just a figment of your imagination.
I am too grown up
to believe in monsters, anyway.
So
you want to go bowling or something?
My turn!
Hey! You forgot your ball!
Strike!
Strike!
You know, for a figment of my imagination,
he sure is a great bowler.
It all started when I was nine.
Daddy took me hunting.
House hunting.
We ate shingles for a month!
I could never look at a porch
the same way!
Oh, god!
You don't need pants
for the victory dance ♪
'Cause Baboon
better than Weasel ♪
I.R. Baboon, big
star of cartoon ♪
I.M. Weasel.
I.R. Baboon reigns
king in his mind ♪
He's just as good as
the weaselly kind ♪
But round every corner,
he's likely to find ♪
I.M. Weasel.
I.M. Weasel!
I.M. Weasel!
Welcome to Le Weasel.
I believe you're next.
Oh, Weasel!
Et voila! The perfect coif.
Why, Weasel?
I mean, all of us women wuve woo,
and the magic woo work
with wose talented scissows.
But why do woo keep that
idiot baboon awound
working on people's twoes?
Well he's my brother-in-law.
I.R. not wanting to always doing foots!
Foots, foots, foots!
It all I.R. doing!
I.R. not standing it any more!
I.R. having dreams. Big fat dreams.
Big fat hair dreams!
Bee-boo-bee-boo!
Look at that! A squirrel cutting hair!
Just 'taint natural.
Hair police! Everybody freeze!
Show me your hair license, hmm?
Now!
As you can see, officer,
my licenses are in impeccable order.
What about this silver back gorilla
over there, doing toes?
Does he have a license?
Baboon has a learners permit,
and is allowed to act
under my direct supervision.
Oh, all right.
But watch your step, Mister Squirrel!
I'll be keeping my eye on you.
The Hair Phone.
Somebody's in trouble!
Weasel here!
Yes. I see.
Yes, you poor thing.
I know just how it feels!
Oh, how can you bear the pain?
Fear not. I'll be right over.
For I Am Weasel Hair Stylist.
I have to run out
on an emergency hair styling mission.
Remember, Baboon,
while I'm gone just do the toes.
I'll do the hair when I get back.
You done!
Some people's just not appreciating.
I.R. genius!
I calling this bicycle cut.
I calling this Statue of Liberty cut.
I calling this my fellow cat's home cut.
Well! Well, will you look at that!
I'm gonna bust that Weasel!
I'm shutting him down!
Everybody freeze! You're under arrest!
Oh, let's see.
Oh, and you're Exhibit A.
And you're Exhibit B!
And you can be Exhibit L.
Well, you can't win them all.
No.
No, I mean your mom beat me
at arm wrestling two out of three times.
But, the hair cut was a success!
Yay!
Yeah.
This little Weasel's feeling pretty good.
Hair Police?
I.R.! What's happened?
You have the right to remain silent!
Anything you say
Stop!
I'm sorry,
but I have to tell you that the only crime
I've ever committed was marrying
that monkey's sister.
Also, I must say that
I've never heard of the Hair Police,
nor their jurisdiction.
Are you sure you're on the level?
All right! All right! It's true!
There's no such thing as the Hair Police!
It's just that I hate all barbers.
You see, it all started
when I was a small boy of nine.
My pa-pa used to take me to this
barber shop.
And all the old men with really short hair
would laugh at me.
And pa-pa told the barber to give me
a "regular boy haircut!"
But I didn't want a "regular boy haircut!"
I wasn't a regular boy!
Anything but regular!
There, there.
You're too kind.
You see,
you've never had a true hair stylist;
an artiste work his magic
on your golden tresses.
Oh, thank you!
Thank you, Mr. Squirrel!
I am so fetching!
Son?
What the heck kind of a hair cut is that?
Come on!
I'm taking you to the barber
for a regular boy hair cut!
No, pa-pa! No!
Yes, it's been a long day, old boy.
Well, brother-in-law,
it's time for me to go home
and face my wife.
Your sister.
She may be a monkey,
but she's got great hair.
You saying it!
Look, Crabs. Look what time it is.
You must go to sleep.
There is nothing to be afraid of.
Chicken?
Chicken, are you awake?
Chicken?
Chicken? Are you in the closet?
Crabs?
Did you leave the closet door open?
You didn't?
Okay. I will go with you.
Maybe it is a monster.
Remember
what Mom and Dad said, Crabs?
There's no such thing as monsters.
Hi. I'm Cow.
Hi. I'm a monster.
I'm sorry I scared you.
But it just gets so cramped
and stuffy in here.
Anyway, I'm scared of the dark.
Me, too.
Oh, I didn't mean to scare you, either,
Mr. Monster.
I will leave the door open
so you can have some air.
Thank you, Cow.
Back to bed, Crabs!
Goodnight, Mr. Monster.
Good night, Cow.
His name is Crabs. He is a warthog.
My cousin's a warthog.
Cow? Your cereal's getting cold!
Would you like some breakfast,
Mr. Monster?
Well, I do like waffles.
With maple syrup?
Oh, yes, please!
'Kay!
What's the matter, Cow?
Mom says
you are just a filament of my imagination.
Want to play jump rope?
Sure!
My mother, ♪
your mother lives across the lane ♪
My turn!
My mother, your mother ♪
Hey, guys! Check this out!
lives across the lane! ♪
Cow is skipping with a figment
of her imagination!
It is the ice cream man!
Does he have any waffles?
Well, what'll it be, young lady?
Two raspberry meat pops, please.
And do you have any waffles?
Oh, sorry. Fresh out of waffles.
These both for you?
Oh, no.
One is for my friend over there.
What friend?
Mr. Monster, of course.
Of course! Mr. Monster!
I don't know why he's so happy.
Well, he does own all that ice cream.
Hey! I was watching that!
Mr. Monster wants to watch
"The Adventures of Crabs The Warthog,
and Piles the Beaver." Don't you?
Cow, there is nobody there!
Your monster does not even exist.
Does too!
Does too!
Honey, I'm home!
Hello, Chicken.
Hey, Dad.
Hello, Cow.
Hi, Dad.
Hi, Dad.
Hello, Monster.
Monster?
What monster?
Dad? What happened?
Monster.
But there's no such thing.
I told you!
Take that monster back to the closet, Cow!
But, ma-ma?
Right now, young lady!
What monster?
Oh, do not be sad, Mr. Monster.
I shall visit you every day.
Promise?
I promise.
Cross my udders and hope to die!
Okay, then.
I'm home!
Geez, Cow! What is the rush?
What!
- Cow?
- Cow?
What's the matter?
Mr. Monster has run'ded away!
Oh, good!
I mean,
maybe it's for the best, sweetheart.
Monsters aren't meant
to be caged up, pumpkin.
They need to be free. To frighten people.
Not to be your friend.
Maybe he never even existed.
Jeez, the stupid delusional
Hey, Cow?
I think I found your monster.
It is just a figment of your imagination.
I am too grown up
to believe in monsters, anyway.
So
you want to go bowling or something?
My turn!
Hey! You forgot your ball!
Strike!
Strike!
You know, for a figment of my imagination,
he sure is a great bowler.
It all started when I was nine.
Daddy took me hunting.
House hunting.
We ate shingles for a month!
I could never look at a porch
the same way!
Oh, god!
You don't need pants
for the victory dance ♪
'Cause Baboon
better than Weasel ♪
I.R. Baboon, big
star of cartoon ♪
I.M. Weasel.
I.R. Baboon reigns
king in his mind ♪
He's just as good as
the weaselly kind ♪
But round every corner,
he's likely to find ♪
I.M. Weasel.
I.M. Weasel!
I.M. Weasel!
Welcome to Le Weasel.
I believe you're next.
Oh, Weasel!
Et voila! The perfect coif.
Why, Weasel?
I mean, all of us women wuve woo,
and the magic woo work
with wose talented scissows.
But why do woo keep that
idiot baboon awound
working on people's twoes?
Well he's my brother-in-law.
I.R. not wanting to always doing foots!
Foots, foots, foots!
It all I.R. doing!
I.R. not standing it any more!
I.R. having dreams. Big fat dreams.
Big fat hair dreams!
Bee-boo-bee-boo!
Look at that! A squirrel cutting hair!
Just 'taint natural.
Hair police! Everybody freeze!
Show me your hair license, hmm?
Now!
As you can see, officer,
my licenses are in impeccable order.
What about this silver back gorilla
over there, doing toes?
Does he have a license?
Baboon has a learners permit,
and is allowed to act
under my direct supervision.
Oh, all right.
But watch your step, Mister Squirrel!
I'll be keeping my eye on you.
The Hair Phone.
Somebody's in trouble!
Weasel here!
Yes. I see.
Yes, you poor thing.
I know just how it feels!
Oh, how can you bear the pain?
Fear not. I'll be right over.
For I Am Weasel Hair Stylist.
I have to run out
on an emergency hair styling mission.
Remember, Baboon,
while I'm gone just do the toes.
I'll do the hair when I get back.
You done!
Some people's just not appreciating.
I.R. genius!
I calling this bicycle cut.
I calling this Statue of Liberty cut.
I calling this my fellow cat's home cut.
Well! Well, will you look at that!
I'm gonna bust that Weasel!
I'm shutting him down!
Everybody freeze! You're under arrest!
Oh, let's see.
Oh, and you're Exhibit A.
And you're Exhibit B!
And you can be Exhibit L.
Well, you can't win them all.
No.
No, I mean your mom beat me
at arm wrestling two out of three times.
But, the hair cut was a success!
Yay!
Yeah.
This little Weasel's feeling pretty good.
Hair Police?
I.R.! What's happened?
You have the right to remain silent!
Anything you say
Stop!
I'm sorry,
but I have to tell you that the only crime
I've ever committed was marrying
that monkey's sister.
Also, I must say that
I've never heard of the Hair Police,
nor their jurisdiction.
Are you sure you're on the level?
All right! All right! It's true!
There's no such thing as the Hair Police!
It's just that I hate all barbers.
You see, it all started
when I was a small boy of nine.
My pa-pa used to take me to this
barber shop.
And all the old men with really short hair
would laugh at me.
And pa-pa told the barber to give me
a "regular boy haircut!"
But I didn't want a "regular boy haircut!"
I wasn't a regular boy!
Anything but regular!
There, there.
You're too kind.
You see,
you've never had a true hair stylist;
an artiste work his magic
on your golden tresses.
Oh, thank you!
Thank you, Mr. Squirrel!
I am so fetching!
Son?
What the heck kind of a hair cut is that?
Come on!
I'm taking you to the barber
for a regular boy hair cut!
No, pa-pa! No!
Yes, it's been a long day, old boy.
Well, brother-in-law,
it's time for me to go home
and face my wife.
Your sister.
She may be a monkey,
but she's got great hair.
You saying it!