It's alive!
I saw Springsteen from the back row,
and he still crushed it.
Shame about Clarence Clemons.
Eh, saxophone is like the parsley of rock 'n' roll.
A normal conversation between two men.
But is it normal? No!
Because... their dicks are out.
We meet again, Ryu,
only this time we fight to the death!
Actually, no. It's to knockout.
Best two out of three. Remember?
It was... all... covered in the packet.
Um, sorry. The what, now?
The packet I spent Weeks putting together?
You don't have your packet?
Oh, right! Right! No, I have it.
Yeah, it's just, uh... it's in the bag.
Yeah?
Well, Ken, if your opponent's late,
you give him a call.
There's a contact sheet in the packet.
Let's see... contact sheet, contact sheet...
No, I don't see it.
You must have forgotten to put it in.
Fine. I'll get it for you.
Hold on.
What's the problem, Guile?
I'll tell you the problem...
E. Honda's venue is a bathhouse,
like a full-on "we're all guys here,
so let's get naked" bathhouse.
What? In my culture, it's a familiar setting.
Hey, no one told me I'd be fighting
with all these sushi rolls hanging out!
It was all described in the pa...
Oh, hold on a minute. What is it?
No! Don't you scream at me.
It's specifically noted that your hotel doesn't allow pets.
We... Ohh! What?!
It's been 20 minutes. I don't think E. Honda's coming.
E. Honda? You're not fighting E. Honda.
You're fighting a Honda.
- I'm fighting a car? - Yes.
That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.
It was in the packet! You know what?
From now on, you lose your packet,
you are out of the tournament.
Fine, fine. I'm punching the car.
Oh. He's not hitting back. How exciting!
Wow. What a great idea.
Hey... hey, this is kind of fun.
Shoryuken!
Tiger! Tiger!
Oh, man!
I accidentally just tiger-punched my packet, dude!
That is classic Sagat.
I mean, I don't know what happened there.
This better be good, M. Bison.
I think I got the wrong packet, man.
Where I come from, pop means soda.
That reminds me of the time
I drank 20 sodas in an hour back in college.
Don't even get me started on the college days.
The College Years"
was my favorite show.
We must hide from the Autobots.
Quickly, Megatron! In here!
♪ ♪
Aah!
Where's our escort?
The Germans are cutting us to pieces!
We're saved, boys! Here come the Red Tails!
Somebody order some backup,
sweethearts?
Wait a minute! Those aren't the Red Tails!
Those are the Shirt Tales!
Let's go get them, guys! Doing!
Oh, goodness. I sure hope we win.
Digger, they're on our side!
Eh?
Digger, no!
Whoo-hoo! I'm killing it!
We've been had, boys.
The Shirt Tales are working for the Jerries.
Wait, wait. We're on your side, sweethearts!
That Jerry's trying to fool us
with a Humphrey Bogart impression, boys.
No mercy!
We're Americans! We're goddamn Americans!
They were just zoo animals.
How'd they even make it through ground school?
Count of three, take Bin Laden alive if we can.
One, two, three.
Go, go, go, go, move!
Commander? Lieutenant Edwards.
Dead when we got here, sir.
An auto-erotic asphyxiation accident.
He's... in a dress.
Well, that's when you choke yourself
to cut off the blood supply to your brain
as you masturbate, sir.
It intensifies orgasm.
Oh, it does, but it's dangerous, sir, obviously.
Yes, I do understand how it would look
if the history books told future generations
that a porn-loving jerkoff enthusiast
had gotten the upper hand on America, yeah.
Understood. Yes, sir.
Move it, people. Come on! Go, go, go, go.
Go, go, go, go, go.
Sal, I don't know how I'm gonna do it,
but I'm gonna fuck that thing.
Everything in the heavens is here,
moving as the heavens move.
This predicts the coming of the great conjunction?
No! This tracks Aughra's ovulation.
Not many more chances has Aughra.
She must find a man
before the great moon sets in the East.
What does this have to do with me?
I think you know all too well, gelfling.
Ohh. You've got crabs.
Oh, but I use the cream!
Quick! Come with me!
I'll protect you and your precious seed.
Uh...
I'd like the morning-after pill, please.
King Don, you have driven our lands
into ruin and bankruptcy.
Given that you are a talking snack cake,
I suppose we should not have been surprised.
To the guillotine with him!
He doesn't fit!
Oh, is this really not happening?
We'll do this the old-fashioned way.
Off with his head!
Uh,head?
Just cut him in half somewhere above the arms!
It's not gonna be one clean stroke. This could get messy.
I have a royal proclamation...
you are all dumb fucks!
All right, all right. New plan.
Any last words?
I fucked your sister.
Let's do it!
Hmm.
Uh, you don't suppose he really fucked my sister, do you?
How are you still alive?!
I'm 80% preservatives.
I'm essentially immortal.
The rebel leader's sister,
as you requested, your majesty.
This is less about sex and more about tying up loose ends.
Wow. What a staggeringly unromantic thing to say.
Eh. I'm a talking snack cake.
Johnny! Time for dinner!
Oh, boy! Chicken night!
What Johnny's mother doesn't know
is that every Wednesday night when she serves chicken,
Johnny imagines he's eating the cast
of the Disney cartoon "Ducktales."
Who's laughing now, Launchpad? You freaking idiot.
- What was that, dear? - Nothing, Mom!
Hey, let's grab dinner while we're out, honey.
It's... ugh! Oh, man.
Honey?!
What? Baby, I'm right here.
- Oh, dear lord. - You're looking right at me.
- I can't see you! - Here I am!
Here, baby! I'm right here!
I'm being attacked by some sort of poltergeist!
Aah!
Previously on "The Fattest Fat Loser,"
the contestants got real.
Moi has always considered Moi's self pleasantly plump.
That is until I shattered Kermit's pelvis.
Get off of me you fucking wildebeest!
My brother Luigi and me...
we used to be the same.
But after a few years...
if I don't change my ways,
this is what the doctors project I will look like.
I've gained so much weight,
I can't even fit in rabbit's hole anymore.
What?
I just want to lick my balls one more time
or at least be able to see them.
Wait, wait... I mean, I hate Mondays.
♪ Follow your heart ♪
♪ Baby, you're a star ♪
♪ A disgusting fat star ♪
"The Fattest Fat Loser."
Gross!
I've made little girls self-conscious
about their bodies for decades.
That makes me the perfect trainer for this show.
Of course, I am hungry all the time,
so I can get a little irritable.
Double time, Super Lardio!
I can-a do this all day!
Then why are you still fat?! So sorry.
Follow your dreams, you fat fuck!
Sorry! Find your shining star!
Vous would like to spar with moi?
I am a 4th-degree black belt, sweetie.
You have to shatter their delusions
before you can reach them,
the way my delusion of ever eating another tiramisu
was shattered at age 12!
If you thought fitness-trainer Barbie was a hard-ass,
you haven't seen kung-fu Barbie.
Oh, yeah?!
Oh, moi has to go to the bathroom!
I don't care how you lose weight.
We've had a real breakthrough here today, Miss Piggy!
You'll push a wheelbarrow full of your trigger food
up to the top of this hill,
where you'll dump your payload into the fire,
symbolically saying goodbye
to your former fat-ass lives
and giving you the strength
to leave your co-dependent relationship.
You hear that, Ken?!
I don't need you anymore!
Please call me.
Last fall, Eeyore lost his long battle with depression.
For you, Eeyore!
Hung himself with his own tail.
And... go!
Wow! I'm in the lead!
I have lost weight.
This is rewriting the book on Mondays.
Oh! My balls!
H-Hey! There's nothing in here!
Jon, you Mondayed my balls!
I won! I won!
Whew! I'm roasting out here.
Oh!
Is-a that-a my mama's prosciutto?
Just-a one taste, mama!
I want a bite!
No! This is my prosciutto, mama!
Oh, stuff and fluff!
Wait!
Let-a her cook.
Well, she does smell delicious.
Miss Piggy, your final weight loss is 174 pounds!
The rest of you have gained a combined 174 pounds.
Miss Piggy, you are The Fattest Fat Loser!
Hart! 1
Gross!
♪ Lift up your dreams and follow your heart ♪
♪ Baby, you're a star ♪
♪ A disgusting fat star ♪
Gross!