Oh, that's good shit.
Is this your party?
No, my brother's. He's a punk-ass bitch.
For real. I can already tell that you better than him.
I mean, you got a dope-ass bike,
and you look like you don't take no shit.
- I don't. I'm Eddie. - That's a tough name.
Yo, bad kids are always named Eddie. Or Shane.
You look like a kid who got fireworks.
Knew it. I bet your daddy got a gun
and you know exactly where it is.
- Maybe I know where they all are. - Yo, who's your favorite wrestler?
Hey, come on, dog, we're on in two minutes!
Hey, man, can you buy me some beer after the show?
Can't do that, little man.
Hey, kid! Catch!
- Wow! - Yo, Eddie, the future is yours.
1x09 - In a Pickle
sync & correction by f1nc0 ~ Addic7ed.com ~
On the edge of the galaxy...
there were two cool warriors,
defenders of all things awesome,
like pizza and staying up past your bedtime.
I'm Crisco, aka Captain Ch-ch-chill!
And I'm Lieutenant Fun Times aka Ricky!
Together we are the Kool Kidz!
And it's time for a galactic adventure!
Uh-oh, the party is under attack by the evil king Lame-o,
ruler of all things bad, like vegetables and divorce.
And also, kids, he smells like poop.
Ooh, I'm here to ruin Tyler's party, brother.
And I'm gonna eat all the birthday cake.
You're gross!
♪ stop Lame-o, he'll never win ♪
♪ because we're all here with our best friends ♪
Oh, no!
- We're all out of ammunition. - I got it!
Kids, take out your space orbs in the goodie bag,
and let's send king Lame-o to the forbidden zone.
Yo! Oh, no. They shootin'!
- What the... - Got him!
♪ Kool Kidz, it's your birthday ♪
♪ Tyler's awesome ♪ ♪ so happy birthday ♪
Yo, I never should've let you idiots talk me into this.
Man, that shit was awful.
Yo, I haven't felt this empty since the finale of Lost.
- What. The. Hell. - Hey, if you ask me, they in heaven.
Wait, so that means... that Sawyer...
so Sawyer is dead?
Smoke monster!
Why?!
Aw, come on, dog, the kids love to you.
Man, those kids can suck my dick.
When they invent Total Recall, I'm gonna have
this memory erased from my "bedula domblomgata."
Fellas, great show.
Tripp Goldstein, Ego Tripp Entertainment,
and that's with two "P's."
- Ha! Like pee-pee. - Done anything we've heard of?
Just a little something called "Pickle and friends."
Wait, you're not...
"Quit gherkin' me around."
Oh, shit, you are King Pickle!
Ey, you taught me how to pee standing up
and why not to be afraid of the moon.
- But you are afraid of the moon. - No dog... I, uh...
But why do I see it during the day sometimes?
Let's cut to the chase. My sidekicks, Eggplant and Baby Corns,
have decided to pursue other ventures.
- Aw, that sucks. - No, it doesn't,
because frankly I think I'm looking at an upgrade.
Don't suppose you guys have any interest in being, uh... television stars?
- Hell yeah! - No!
Contrary to what you have seen today,
we are in fact a hip hop super group.
- Hey, come on, dude. - Tell you what,
why don't you come by the studio tomorrow?
I'll show you what I have to offer.
Worst case scenario, you get a free catered lunch.
Catered, huh? Your worst case scenario
suddenly sounds like a magical afternoon.
We can't wait, sir.
Now, if you will excuse me, Tripp,
I have another pressing engagement to attend to.
Oh, yeah! Let's hit some jumps, Eddie!
That guy is a natural.
Oh! That's Sticky Mouse,
Celery Doug... and, oh, look, look! That's Normal Norm.
Check out the empty slot at the end.
That could be us, man.
These are bunch of has-beens and neverwases.
Yo, a lot of fools got their start doing children's entertainment.
Name one.
Justin Timberlake, Miley Cyrus, Drake...
and they all suck ass except for JT. I mean, don't forget,
for every one beautiful timbersnake, there's a whole grip of o-towns.
There they are. Look at ya. The fearsome threesome.
Man, you look like Godzilla's dick.
I can't believe I'm hanging out with one of my childhood idols.
One time, when I was a kid, I met the Ultimate Warrior.
And he called me a Brown Asshole.
Yeah, don't feel bad. Mr. Rogers once called me a Shit Stain.
Shit Stain. Let me show you around.
Come on, dude, get inside that Eggplant.
Hell, no!
- Now, that is a Baby Corn. - You really think so?
Hey, that costume fits you like a glove,
unlike OJ, am I right?
I'm gonna have to sew in a bigger crotch-kernel.
Oh, I'm sorry, Kristy.
Don't be.
- Holy shit. - Hey, you know what?
I think mine might be too small too
- 'cause, you know, my dick... - No, you're fine.
Ricky, peep this!
Dip a reuben into some garlic sauce, and finish with some skittles.
Terrible.
New reuben... dip into ranch,
dust with some crumbled up cheetos.
Heavenly.
We ain't gonna get billed for this, are we?
Last time I was at whole foods,
I had a little snafu in the prepared foods section.
Long story short, black man can't get a kale salad no more.
Not gonna happen here, my man.
The grub's all free for talent.
I love the candy, but my Tia always said
that it's not nice to take the last one.
Rick, come here.
You wanna know what happens when you eat the last one?
Please tell me.
We. Get. You. More.
Holy shit! This is like Halloween,
but with no drive-bys.
Here at team Pickle, we work hard and we play hard.
I'm having a soiree tonight at my place.
- Love to have you. - We'll be there!
I always wanted to go inside that big-ass Pickle jar.
I live in a real house.
I know that. I was playing.
Uh, you're a real person. I understand... that.
Look Tripp, unfortunately, I can't do your stupid show.
- Shut up, Chozen. - I'll do your stupid show.
All right, why don't you guys go check out the set
while I talk to big John stud here?
Hey, I know what you want. Some of these, right?
Uh, yeah, but not for singing "tickle tickle, little pickle."
Oh, yeah? "Tickle tickle" bought me a Lamborghini.
- What color? - Red.
Like the tip of my dick.
My Lamborghini gonna be green like an appletini.
Ey, yo, hold up.
Lamborghini... rhymes with... appletini.
See? This is what you do. You're an artist.
And that's why I brought you in.
Man, I thought you wanted me to be a Eggplant?
I know this kiddie shit is beneath you.
But I'm getting ready to make a move into
the very lucrative teen market.
You know, with the purple drank and the ratchet twerking.
- That's where you come in. - Teenagers do love me.
So, here's the deal. Put on the suit and I'll
throw the full power of the Pickle behind you.
Money, studios, producers... whatever you need.
Opportunity's knocking. You gonna open that door?
Well, I mean, Drake got his start on a kid's show.
There's a toothbrush in the bowl right there.
Shine up that mouth metal.
Oh, hey! Huh. Thought you were someone else.
New project, "adult braces after dark."
Boudoir shots of women wearing nothing but tin grins.
Sick. You got any more of that dank purp'?
Good news, bro. We booked up a primo spot at the swap meet,
right between the knock off raiders' gear
and Johnny Mo, the tarantula dealer.
I'mma need to respectfully decline your shitty opportunity.
You see, me and the guys got a TV gig with
this baller, Tripp Goldstein, AKA King Pickle.
- Ha, that's funny. - What?
Probably nothin'. This dude I sell bath salts to
is always carrying on about a Pickle named Goldstein.
Says he ruined his life. Eh, must be a different guy.
Shit! My six o'clock is here.
Ooh, that's fine headgear. You are taking it up a notch, sister.
Thanks.
Jimmy, if what you're saying is true,
then we must interrogate this drug addict immediately.
Right on, amigo. I know exactly where to find him.
Wait... w-w-wait, guys, what about me?
There's a half a bottle of christian brothers on the dash.
Sit tight, have a drink, maybe flick the old bean around.
Hey, whatever you want.
Sweet! You guys are coming back, right?
Just so you know, I've locked the RV!
Do not panic, this is for your protection!
She's cool.
You think it's weird we have to wear these costumes?
Naw, dog, Tripp said it was a work thing.
Hey, glad you could make it! Come on.
Hey, good lookin' out.
- Ignore the plums, you got me? - What?
- Ricky! - Hey, what's up, Kristy?
I was like hoping you would be here.
Of course! I wanted to get to know you a little better.
- This is my husband, Rudy. - Oh.
- Big Rick. Stoked to finally meet you. - Yeah, you too.
I can't wait to see you bang the shit out of my wife.
- Say, what? - Just promise me you
- won't go easy on that papaya. - No, no, no.
- Are you serious right now? - Kristy, Rudy,
could you give me a minute with the guys here?
Yeah, sure.
Hey, but we got dibs on this one.
Can you please tell me what the hell is goin' on right now?
- It's a cuck party. - Cuck?
It's short for cuckold. Basically, these husbands get off
on watching their wives have sex with other guys.
Eh, everybody has a good time, you know?
But what's with the costumes?
It's my own little twist.
Tripp, get in here! Linda's kitty ain't gonna pummel itself.
All right. If you'll excuse me,
I gotta take the "D" train to pound pound.
We've been to some wild parties, but this shit is dirty.
Eh, I don't know, dog. That shit seems pretty cool to me.
But there's a dude watching.
I grew up in a two bedroom house with four brothers.
There's always a dude watching.
Spare change? Hey! Spare... spare change?
What's up, Zack? How's Rrebecca?
She stole some nibbles out of a hot dog I was saving.
Had to put her in the little jail.
- Jimmy, you got some weird friends. - Yeah, who are you?
My partner here has got some questions.
Tell me everything you know about the big Pickle.
Let me guess...
- you're the new Eggplant. - How'd you know?
Takes one to know one. Eggplant number 4.
Before that, I was the front man of the Monkey Cats.
A number of leading Ska-zines called them "ones to watch."
Tripp dug our act.
Said he could make us mightier than the bosstones.
All we had to do was prance around in the veggie suits for a while.
- Sound familiar? - Vaguely.
Except I don't play no bullshit white reggae.
You obviously don't know anything about Ska.
Yeah, and I'm trying to keep it that way.
Okay, okay. Simmer down. Easy, ladies.
So what's Goldstein's game?
He preys on you when you're desperate, sucks you in with empty promises.
Then, he owns you, all your music, everything, forever.
"Forever, ever?" Outkast jokes.
But for real, why didn't you just bolt on his ass?
You don't think we tried?
The contracts were air tight.
Well, my boy's not dumb enough to sign anything.
Aw, man, tell me you didn't.
He's got you, bro. You're nothin' but a rat in a cage.
Shut up, Rebecca! Not everything's about you!
Oh, yeah.
Ricky, look at me. I need your eyes right here.
- This is important. - Yes, Rudy?
I'm counting on you tonight.
I don't want my wife with a two-pump chump.
I won't let you down, Rudy. I promise.
You either, Kristy.
So, you having a good time tonight?
Uh, yeah, it's pretty cool.
We've always had a fantasy that involves a... you know...
- A vegetable? - No.
A black.
Yeah, people don't really say it like that anymore.
I'm sorry, ladies. I got a girlfriend,
and I cannot plow you in front of your husbands.
Oh, we're not married.
Our thing is having sex with each other...
- while you watch. - Oh. Hang on a sec.
Siri, is it cheatin' if I watch two freaky women have sex?
I'm sorry. I don't understand the question.
Good enough for me.
Am I doing okay? How's this, Rudy?
Oh, you're killing it, buddy!
You sure you haven't done this before?
No, I've had, uh... uh, sex before,
but not under these circum... circumstances.
Yeah, Kristy, talk to daddy. Is he the best you've ever had?
Hell yeah, and you know this.
- Whoo! - So proud of you, man!
Thank you. It's so nice to have someone believe in to me.
Aw, yeah, get it, Baby Corn.
Every. Last. Bit of it.
Hey, nice to see you, stud. Missed a great party tonight.
God, look at the size of those feet!
- You must have a huge hog. - Why, yes I do. Thank you.
So, I was in the neighborhood, and wanted to holler at you right quick.
Yo, I just booked a dope-ass rap gig on Sunday.
Need to coordinate the deets with you.
Oh, buddy, that's gonna be a problem.
I'd love to let you do it, but we got rehearsals on Sunday.
- And there's no exceptions. - Oh, okay.
Well, me and the club owner are super cool,
so I can probably just bump it to Tuesday.
Yeah, again, it's not gonna work, you know?
All right, well, how about you pick the day?
Look, maybe you should focus on being the Eggplant
and put the hip hop stuff on hold for a bit.
Yeah. But you know we was talking about doing both...
No... well, you can't! You can't do both!
How many times you gonna ask me the same goddamn thing?
Sorry, okay? I think I've had a little too much cialis.
There is literally no blood going to my brain right now.
You should see the tip of my dick.
Looks like a beef steak tomato.
- You get what I'm saying though, right? - Yeah, loud and clear.
All right. See?
That's a good talk. See you in the morning, champ.
Wow. They get dumber every year.
- I know. - You know what?
I was lookin' for that ashtray.
You going down, Pickle.
Racist.
This one's a nurse, this one's a teacher.
And here's how they make love to each other.
That's beautiful, dog. Hey, come here.
- You gotta see this. - Pass.
There's my guys! Hey, you know all your lines?
Live T.V., fellas.
- You don't get a second chance. - We got this.
Now, get out there and give those kids somethin' to remember.
Yes, sir.
Okay, kids, let's see those smiles.
We're coming back live in three, two...
Hey, I hope you kids are ready for some fun!
Because guess who's back on the show today?
E-e-Eggplant and the Baby Corns!
Look what I got, Baby Corn. A can of soda.
- It looks so yummy! - You know the rules, Baby Corn.
We can only have soda when mom or dad says it's okay.
But they're not, like, right here, right now.
I know, let's ask Eggplant.
He always knows the right thing to do.
If we're lucky, maybe he'll sing us a song about it.
Hey, kids, following the rules is bullshit.
♪ Attention, children, open up your ears ♪
♪ Chozen droppin' knowledge they don't want you to hear ♪
♪ authority is a lie ♪
♪ might as well just get high ♪
♪ 'cause we all gonna die ♪
♪ let me impress upon impressionable minds ♪
♪ you gotta stay on the grind ♪
♪ fate don't favor the kind ♪
♪ and if you get advice from your bitch of a mother ♪
♪ let it go in one ear and straight out the other ♪
♪ children of the world, rise up and fight ♪
♪ stay up past your bedtime every night ♪
♪ the Easter bunny's fake, Santa Claus is dead ♪
♪ all your parents' lies, fillin' up your head ♪
♪ join me now as we stake our claim ♪
♪ we takin' what we want without an ounce of shame ♪
♪ population six billion all across the land ♪
♪ but not one single kid gives a good goddamn ♪
- Hey, give me the mic! - Tune in tomorrow for a song about
sharing dildos and what really happened on 9/11.
Hey you. Give me that!
Get the hell out, you ungrateful pieces of shit!
- It's not our fault! - Yeah, Chozen did it!
Damn straight!
So, I'm guessing we fired, right? The deal's just done?
You think it's that easy?
I got my hooks in you, and I am not letting go!
Your music career is over. I own you.
Hmm, I thought you might say that.
That's him. That's the man who touched me.
Kristy, kill the contract.
You a shitty little kid, and I love it!
Say good-bye to children's television,
and all the sweet pussy that comes with it.
Ricky, I'm very, very disappointed in you.
I'm sorry, dog. I never wanted to let you down.
- Hey, what was that shit? - Whoa.
You better check yourself, Crisco. Tripp was playin' us.
He straight up told me that he did not give a rat's ass
- about our hip hop careers. - Careers? Man...
We ain't even had a real gig. Not one.
Somehow playing with you has cost me money.
- This was our shot! - Listen to you!
Brainwashed by the man, blinded by sexual pleasures.
You just don't get it, man.
Why you always got to mess it up, Chozen?
People like me here, bro!
I was getting laid. I hit that panocha hard, dog.
- So hard... - But I did this for us...
Shut up! Enough man, we done.
Good-bye, Chozen.
Dude, I got some news.
- Holy shit! - Ow!
Great, band's all here. You got insurance, right?
- Course, I got insurance. - Jackpot!
Aw, damn, my head. I-I think I have, like, a concussion.
Ricky, let the man speak.
I hate white people so much right now.
Well, an old concert promoter-buddy of mine
saw your tele-shenanigans... want to book you
for the biggest music festival of the summer.
- Hey, dog, Broken Spear? - Bullshit.
Oh, don't you play with my emotions, Jimmy.
Look, if I wanted to play with your emotions, you'd be
pregnant and homeless by now. Bottom line, we got the gig.
- Yo, never doubt me! - Uh, I'll be right back.
- Eh, kid's excited. Who can blame him? - So, can I go home now?
Or you guys want to order a pizza?
Ja-pow! Domino! I win... again.
My money!
Clean this up, old man.
Also, happy birthday, Dad. This was nice.
Hey, boss, the new posters just came in.
How they look?
Black, move your black ass thumb.
Weebles might wobble, but they don't fall down.
sync & correction by f1nc0 ~ Addic7ed.com ~