FILLMORE. I'M ON IT.
AND NOW, "FILLMORE."
TODAY'S EPISODE -- "CRY THE BELOVED MASCOT."
HOLA, EVERYONE.
ONCE AGAIN, IT'S SPIRIT WEEK HERE AT X MIDDLE SCHOOL.
AND TO KICK OFF THE WEEKLONG CELEBRATION
IS THE 18th ANNUAL SPIRIT WEEK PARADE.
ISN'T THAT JUST "FANAMATASTIC," CHERI?
IT SURE IS, PHILSKY.
THE WEEK OF FESTIVITIES
CULMINATES IN A NAIL-BITING BOCCE-BALL GAME
PINNING THE X MIDDLE SCHOOL LOBBING LOBSTERS
AGAINST THE GILBY FIGHTING GOATS,
AS SEEN HERE IN THIS WAY WONDERFUL FOOTAGE.
LET'S JUST HOPE THE LOBSTERS DON'T "BOCCE" THIS ONE UP!
KNOW WHAT I MEAN?
WELL, HERE TO HELP US FIND OUT
IS X MIDDLE SCHOOL'S -- WHOO! -- RESIDENT PSYCHIC,
ALISTAIR GREYSTONE.
HEY, KEEP YOUR EYES ON THIS GUY, CHERI.
HE'S GONNA BE BIG!
SO, WHAT'S YOUR PREDICTION, ALLY?
I FORESEE DOOM...DEJECTION...
AND DISAPPOINTMENT FOR THE LOBSTERS.
FRIDAY'S BOCCE-BALL GAME WILL BE A HORRIBLE LOSS,
THE LIKES OF WHICH THIS SCHOOL'S NEVER SEEN.
ANYTHING? IT'S QUIET ON MY SIDE.
TOO QUIET.
STAY FROSTY.
GILBY WANTS X BAD.
BAD ENOUGH TO --
WE GOT A GOAT!
I CAN'T BELIEVE I TOOK A PIE FOR FOLSOM.
BANANA CREAM, NO LESS.
NEXT TIME,
TRY AND CATCH IT IN THE SHOULDER.
NEXT TIME, TRY AND CATCH IT -- PERIOD.
DIRECT HIT.
HEY, SPEAKING OF FOOD,
ISN'T TONIGHT THE BIANNUAL FILLMORE DINNER JAMMY-JAM?
INDEED!
BEEN SAVING UP YOUR APPETITE?
HEY, IT'S ME.
THAT'S RIGHT.
MR. 4-FOOT TALL EATING AN 8-FOOT SUB.
YOU SHOULD HEAD. I'LL FILE THE REPORT.
BESIDES, I'VE ALREADY EATEN. REMEMBER?
CORNELIUS,
OUR RESERVATIONS ARE IN 15 MINUTES.
SORRY -- HAD TO PUT ON MY CRAWDAD PANTS.
HEH HEH -- ELASTIC WAISTBAND.
IT IS ALL YOU CAN EAT.
LET'S NOT PUT THEM OUT OF BUSINESS NOW.
IT'S ALL A PERSON WITH A NORMAL APPETITE CAN EAT.
NOW, REMEMBER, SON, DON'T FILL UP ON BREAD AND SALAD.
YOU GOT TO EAT THE MEAT...
TO BEAT THE HOUSE.
HEY, GUYS, BEFORE WE GO, I HAVE A LITTLE SOMETHING
TO COMMEMORATE OUR SPECIAL EVENING
AT PAPA CRACKY'S CRAWFISH BARREL.
WOW, DAD! MONOGRAMMED BIBS.
THIS IS, UH...NICE?
MAYBE WE SHOULD JUST SAVE THESE FOR A DINNER THAT'S NOT SO...
MESSY...OR PUBLIC.
NONSENSE! LET'S GET A MOVE ON.
PAPA CRACKY'S NOT GONNA HOLD OUR TABLE FOREVER.
FILLMORES'.
I'M...UH...I'M ON IT.
YOU'RE...ON IT?
FOLSOM WANTS ME BACK AT SCHOOL ASAP.
I GUESS I SHOULD CALL THEM BACK
AND TELL THEM I'M ON IT TOMORROW.
CORNELIUS...GO AHEAD.
SOUNDS LIKE IT COULD BE IMPORTANT.
BUT --
HOW ABOUT A RAIN CHECK?
THANKS, GUYS. I OWE YOU.
HEY, WHAT DO WE GOT?
ONE MISSING SCHOOL MASCOT -- LOBSTEE THE LOBSTER.
DURING SPIRIT WEEK? DOG!
JEANIE GEARY, HIS KEEPER, RAN OUT TO THE BOCCE FIELD
WHEN SHE HEARD ABOUT THE PIE ATTACK.
SHE CAME BACK, AND HE WAS GONE.
NO PRINTS, NO FORCED ENTRY...
NICE PANTS.
WHAT?
OH, THANKS.
FILLMORE, INGRID,
FOLSOM WANTS US IN HER OFFICE -- NOW.
GUYS, LOBSTEE IS THE PRIDE AND JOY OF X MIDDLE SCHOOL.
HE MAKES US BETTER THAN WE ARE.
WITH HIM, WE'RE...UH... RAYCLIFF!
A METAPHOR.
WITH HIM, WE'RE THE CREAM OF THE CRèME BRûLéE CROP.
WITHOUT HIM, WE'RE LOW-GRADE TAPIOCA.
HMM...THAT'S GOOD.
IF WORD GETS OUT THAT LOBSTEE'S BEEN KIDNAPPED,
SCHOOL MORALE WILL PLUMMET,
AND THE BOCCE TEAM WILL LOSE AGAINST GILBY
FOR THE FIRST TIME IN... RAYCLIFF!
A DECADE.
A DECADE!
AND THAT'S NOT GONNA HAPPEN -- NOT ON MY 24-CARAT WATCH.
YOU GOT THAT?
MUM'S THE WORD.
WE'LL FIND HIM.
I KNOW YOU WILL, BECAUSE YOU ARE THE BEST.
AND ON THE OFF CHANCE YOU DON'T FIND HIM
BY FRIDAY'S BOCCE GAME,
SO HELP ME, I'LL MELT DOWN YOUR BADGES,
USE THEM TO STEEL-TOE MY BOOTS
AND KICK YOUR CAREERS FROM HERE TO...RAYCLIFF!
SHANGHAI?
NO.
BURMA?
TRY AGAIN.
KAZAKSTAN?
YES...KAZAKSTAN.
THAT WAS FUN.
WHERE DO WE START?
ANTONIA LARKIN, NOTORIOUS MASCOT NAPPER.
SHE'S GOT A RAP SHEET A MILE LONG.
AND SHE GOES TO GILBY?
ALONG WITH HER BROTHER, NICKY LARKIN,
OUR BANANA CREAM PIE-THROWING FRIEND.
MAYBE A LITTLE BROTHER-SISTER SABOTAGE?
OR MAYBE NOT SO LITTLE.
HEY, THIRD, HOW'D YOU LIKE THAT CREAM PIE?
HOMEMADE RECIPE.
NICKY, WE'RE NOT HERE FOR YOU.
WE'RE HERE TO QUESTION YOUR SISTER.
WH-- WHY?! WHAT DID SHE --
CAN I HELP YOU, OFFICERS?
HOW'D YOU OUTDO ME THIS TIME?
STEAL ANOTHER STUPID MASCOT?
I DIDN'T STEAL ANYTHING, STINKWEED!
I WAS IN DETENTION ALL DAY!
BESIDES, STEALING A MASCOT TAKES TALENT.
ANYONE CAN CREAM-PIE SOMEBODY.
YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS THAT I'LL GET GOOD AT IT
AND GET REALLY FAMOUS, AND EVERYONE WILL BE LIKE,
"ANTONIA WHO?"
GET OVER YOURSELF.
THE ONLY THING YOU'LL BE FAMOUS FOR
IS BEING A BIG, OLD, PIE-THROWING LOSER.
WELL...THEY DIDN'T DO IT.
FILLMORE.
Fillmore, Ingrid,
I think I may have found something.
THIS IS A PICTURE
OF LOBSTEE'S HIGH-END LOBSTER TREATS.
JEANIE SWEARS SHE ALWAYS KEEPS A FULL CANISTER
BESIDE HIS TANK.
AND THIS IS A CRIME-SCENE PHOTOGRAPH.
NO TREATS.
AT LEAST WE KNOW WHOEVER HAS LOBSTEE IS FEEDING HIM.
OPEN IT UP, PEOPLE. COULD BE ANYBODY.
A GILBY SABOTEUR, A CRUSTACEAN KLEPTO,
SOMEBODY WITH A GRUDGE AGAINST THE SCHOOL.
WAIT -- PHOTOGRAPHIC MEMORY.
SOMETHING I READ THIS MORNING.
SHAMPOO INSTRUCTIONS, BIOLOGY CHAPTER,
SCHOOL PAPER... SCHOOL PAPER!
"BROCK MASON KICKED OFF TEAM."
SOMEONE WITH A GRUDGE.
DISCO!
GRUDGE? WHY WOULD I HAVE A GRUDGE?
I'M GLAD COACH BOOTED ME.
MY SORRY PLAYING WAS BRINGING DOWN THE TEAM
IN A BAD WAY.
BESIDES, I'VE SINCE BECOME A WAY BETTER BOCCE-BALL WASHER.
ANYTHING I COULD DO TO HELP US WIN
AGAINST THOSE LAME GOATS.
"CARING FOR YOUR STOLEN MASCOT"?
MAYBE WE SHOULD CONTINUE THIS
DOWN AT THE STATION, MASON.
YEAH, OR MAYBE, UH...
NOT!
LEFT! LEFT!
LOOKS LIKE YOUR CLEAN GETAWAY...
GOT A LITTLE DIRTY.
IN HERE -- THIS IS WHERE I HID HIM.
WAIT. YOU STOLE THE GILBY MASCOT?
FILLMORE, "IXNAY."
YEAH. WHOSE MASCOT DID YOU THINK?
DUDE...THEY STOLE LOBSTEE, DIDN'T THEY?!
SOMEBODY'S LOBSTER-NAPPED LOBSTEE!
HE'S GONE! GONE!!
SPIRIT WEEK IS RUINED!
I COMPLETELY AGREE!
OH, CRUEL FATE!
OH...CRACKERS.
WELL...GILBY HAS THEIR GOAT BACK,
AND BROCK MASON IS ON HOOF-CLIPPING DUTY
THROUGH SPRING.
FILLMORE, SEE THIS SHADE OF ROUGE
ACCENTUATING MY CHEEKBONES?
I SEE IT.
IT'S A NEW BLUSH I'M TRYING OUT
CALLED "LIVID BEYOND BELIEF"!
WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?
I'M SORRY.
I WAS QUESTIONING BROCK MASON, AND I SLIPPED.
FILLMORE, A SLIP IS WHEN A CLOWN STEPS ON A BANANA PEEL.
WHAT I HAVE OUTSIDE IS A 3-RING CIRCUS
WITH BEARDED LADIES AND DOG-FACED BOYS.
THE BOCCE GAME IS TWO DAYS AWAY, AND DO YOU HAVE A SINGLE LEAD?
THAT'S WHAT I FIGURED.
I'M PUTTING SOMEONE NEW ON THE CASE --
SOMEONE WHO CAN HELP FIND LOBSTEE.
TODAY'S ISSUE.
"I CAN HELP FIND LOBSTEE."
DOG!
YOU'VE BEEN WORKING TOO HARD.
CRIME DOESN'T REST, INGRID. WHY SHOULD I?
THIS ISN'T ABOUT CRIME.
IT'S ABOUT KNOWING WHEN TO STEP BACK --
KNOWING WHEN TO TAKE OFF THE BADGE AND PUT ON THE BIB.
HEY...
HOW'D YOU KNOW ABOUT THE BIBS?
OFFICERS FILLMORE AND THIRD,
YOU'RE LATE.
32.6 SECONDS LATE
ACCORDING TO THE EXTREMELY PRECISE CLOCK
ON MY POCKET COMPEX 80.
MM-HMM. LET'S GET DOWN TO BUSINESS, SHALL WE?
WAIT! I'M GETTING A VISION!
WHAT'S UP, FAKE PSYCHIC?
ARE YOU GETTING FAKE VISIONS AGAIN?
ARE THEY FAKE VISIONS OF YOU BEING A FAKE?
SORRY, GUY.
CRIME SCENE'S OFF-LIMITS FOR PRESS.
BUT THIS IS MY BEAT!
I REPORT ON EVERYTHING ALISTAIR DOES.
SORRY YOU HAD TO SEE THAT.
NOW, UH, WHERE WAS I?
OH, YEAH -- MY VISION.
UH-HUH. I SEE. OH, MY!
OH, GADZOOKS!
NOW, THAT IS A VISION!
OKAY. I'LL BITE. WHAT DO YOU SEE?
I...KNOW...
WHO...TOOK...LOBSTEE!
ALISTAIR, YOU CAN'T JUST --
VERN NATOMA!
LOOK, IF THIS IS ABOUT THE CAFETORIUM'S TOSTADA EXPOSé,
WE'VE ALREADY GOT ENOUGH INFORMANTS --
YOU'RE BUSTED FOR ABDUCTING OUR BELOVED MASCOT LOBSTEE!
NOW PUT YOUR HANDS ON THE WALL, DIRTBAG,
AND SPREAD 'EM!
WHAT YOU GONNA DO NOW THAT WE'VE COME FOR YOU?
OFFICERS, CAN YOU PLEASE ARREST THIS MAN
FOR PUBLIC DISPLAY OF CRAZY?
WE'LL THINK ABOUT IT.
ALISTAIR, THERE'S NO EVIDENCE.
IT'S EVIDENCE YOU WANT, IT'S EVIDENCE YOU'LL GET.
NATOMA, OPEN UP YOUR TOP-LEFT DESK DRAWER.
YES, VERN NATOMA IS BEING HELD
AS THE PRIME SUSPECT IN LOBSTEE'S KIDNAPPING.
IN THE MEANTIME, HE WILL BE TAKING A LEAVE OF ABSENCE
FROM HIS JOB AS EDITOR IN CHIEF OF THE EXAMINER.
YOU CAN ASK UNTIL YOU'RE BLUE IN THE FACE,
BUT I DON'T KNOW HOW THOSE LOBSTER TREATS GOT IN THERE!
HIS RECORD'S CLEAN.
I DON'T KNOW. IT JUST DOESN'T TRACK.
HE JUST DECIDES TO GO BAD IN A BIG WAY?
AND THE WAY HE JUST OPENED THAT DRAWER
WITH THE TREATS?
WHY WOULD HE DO IT?
SOMETHING DOESN'T FIT.
YOU'VE GOT TO LISTEN TO ME!
I DIDN'T DO IT!
I'M EDITOR IN CHIEF OF THE SCHOOL NEWSPAPER.
PLEASE! THIS CHARGE IS GONNA RUIN ME!
WAIT! I'VE SEEN THAT WATCH BEFORE.
AND I REMEMBER WHERE.
THERE.
CHECK IT -- LOBSTER WATCH.
THE PIE ATTACK OCCURRED
AT THE SAME TIME AS LOBSTEE'S KIDNAPPING.
IF THAT IS VERN'S ARM, HE'S GOT AN ALIBI.
ACCORDING TO THE X MIDDLE SCHOOL MERCHANDISE DATABASE,
ONLY THREE OF THOSE WATCHES WERE EVER SOLD.
SO IF THAT IS VERN NATOMA ON TAPE...
THEN SOMEONE'S TRYING TO FRAME HIM.
BUT WHO?
WHO WOULD HAVE SOMETHING TO GAIN
BY KIDNAPPING A LOBSTER AND PINNING IT ON SOMEBODY ELSE?
HECK, SURE, I'M UP FOR ONE-ON-ONE INTERVIEWS
TO TALK ABOUT LOBSTEE'S WHEREABOUTS.
I'M GONNA FIND HIM.
DON'T ANY OF YOU WORRY ABOUT IT, OKAY?
YEAH, MR. CRACKPOT'S BEEN PREDICTING
FOR ABOUT A YEAR NOW.
AND I'VE BEEN STUCK WRITING ABOUT THE SHYSTER
FOR ALMOST JUST AS LONG.
LOOK AT THESE STORIES I'VE HAD TO COVER!
MISSING RETAINERS... CORNED BEEF & CABBAGE DAY...
PURE FLUFF!
EVER SINCE FIRST GRADE,
I'VE DREAMED ABOUT BEING A TOP REPORTER,
OF COVERING REAL NEWS, OF CHANGING PEOPLE'S LIVES.
INSTEAD, I'M STUCK WRITING ABOUT A PSEUDOPSYCHIC
THAT SPITS WHEN HE SPEAKS.
OOH, HE DOES SPIT, DOESN'T HE?
UH-HUH -- A LOT!
BUT IF THAT'S WHAT IT TAKES, I'M FINE WITH THAT.
'CAUSE I'M GOING PLACES.
I WORK TOO HARD NOT TO.
ALISTAIR, ON THE OTHER HAND, ISN'T GOING ANYWHERE.
THE GUY'S A DIM BULB WITH A GIMMICK.
TRUST ME, OFFICERS,
THERE'S NO WAY OUR FRIEND ALISTAIR'S
GOT THE SMARTS TO PULL OFF A HIGH-PROFILE LOBSTER-NAPPING.
NAH! NO WAY.
WELL, THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT.
WHAT'S HE DOING NOW?
HE'S ON THE MOVE.
CHECK IT!
HE'S HEADING TOWARD NATOMA'S HOUSE.
ALISTAIR, FREEZE!
I-I'M SORRY, GUYS.
I-I JUST CAN'T GET CAUGHT RIGHT NOW.
UGH!
I'M GONNA ASK YOU AGAIN, GREYSTONE.
IS THIS LOBSTEE?
UH...YEAH.
I STEAMED HIM UP REAL GOOD, HUH?
WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT, ALISTAIR?
UH...'CAUSE THE MARKET PRICE OF SEAFOOD'S
GONE THROUGH THE ROOF?
FILLMORE, FOLSOM'S FREAKING.
THE BOCCE GAME STARTS IN AN HOUR,
AND IF SHE DOESN'T GET ANSWERS, SHE'S GONNA TURN H.Q.
INTO HER PERSONAL GOLF-CART-STORAGE FACILITY.
DON'T THINK SHE'S JOKING.
HERE'S AN ANSWER FOR YOU -- THAT ISN'T LOBSTEE IN THERE.
I FOUND THIS RECEIPT WHERE ALISTAIR FELL.
I TRACED THE TYPEFACE TO PAPA CRACKY'S CRAWFISH BARREL.
PAPA CRACKY'S! AH! I ALMOST FORGOT.
I RE-SCHEDDIED DINNER WITH THE FOLKS TONIGHT.
FILLMORE, YOU'RE NOT GONNA BAIL ON THEM TWICE.
I DON'T KNOW.
I DON'T WANT TO, BUT MAYBE I'M GONNA HAVE TO.
OR MAYBE NOT.
I THINK WE'RE BACK IN BUSINESS.
"IS THE LIVE LOBSTER IN PLACE?"
ALISTAIR, MIND EXPLAINING YOUR E-MAIL?
IT SAYS "LIVE" LOBSTER?
DOZENS OF OLD E-MAILS IN THE POCKET COMP
DETAIL THE LOCATION OF LOST RETAINERS,
THE SCHEDULING OF FUTURE CORNED BEEF & CABBAGE DAYS --
ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU'VE EVER PREDICTED.
WHAT'S YOUR GAME, GREYSTONE?
I USED TO HAVE A REAL GIFT, YOU KNOW?
I COULD SEE STUFF -- STUFF THAT HADN'T HAPPENED YET.
AND IT WAS PERFECT,
'CAUSE ALL I EVER WANTED TO BE
WAS A PROFESSIONAL PSYCHIC.
IT WAS MY DREAM.
BUT ONE DAY LAST FALL -- POOF!
MY VISIONS -- THEY JUST STOPPED COMING.
JUST LIKE THAT --
MY DREAM WASN'T GONNA HAPPEN.
MY PSYCHIC CAREER WAS ALL DRIED UP.
OR SO I THOUGHT.
YOU STARTED GETTING THESE E-MAILS.
TELLING ME ALL KINDS OF FUTURE STUFF,
LIKE HOW WE'D LOSE TONIGHT'S GAME
AND HOW VERN NATOMA
HAD LOBSTER TREATS HIDDEN IN HIS DRAWER.
I WAS BACK IN BUSINESS AGAIN!
AND THEN?
TODAY, I GOT AN E-MAIL
FROM THE SAME PERSON WHO SENT ME THE OTHERS,
SAYING THAT IF I DIDN'T FIND A LOBSTEE LOOK-ALIKE
AND PLANT HIM IN VERN NATOMA'S BEDROOM FOR YOU GUYS TO FIND,
HE'D EXPOSE ME AS A PHONY.
SO HERE'S THE QUESTION --
WHO GETS THE GRAVY BY TIPPING OFF ALISTAIR
AND FRAMING NATOMA?
HARRISON POST IS NAMED EDITOR.
DISCO!
CHESLEY'S WINDING UP FOR HIS THROW
AND...OH!
WHERE IS LOBSTEE WHEN X NEEDS HIM MOST?
DEAR ALISTAIR, HERE'S YOUR LATEST PREDICTION.
TOMORROW'S HEADLINE WILL READ
"GOATS 'BLEAT UP' LOBSTERS IN WORSE LOSS EVER."
I DON'T THINK SO, POST.
MY PREDICTION?
HARRISON POST CHARGED WITH ABDUCTION OF LOBSTEE.
W-WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?
WE'RE TALKING ABOUT YOU
PUTTING YOUR CAREER BEFORE EVERYTHING ELSE --
STEALING A BELOVED MASCOT FOR YOUR OWN PERSONAL GAIN.
I'M NOT GONNA STAND HERE AND LISTEN TO THIS.
I'M AN EDITOR IN CHIEF NOW.
I WORK IN PROOF, NOT POPPYCOCK.
YEAH, YOU'RE EDITOR IN CHIEF NOW, HARRISON.
BUT THAT'S DONE.
WE GOT PROOF ENOUGH TO REMEDY THAT SITCH.
STOP THE PRESSES, MAN. IT'S OVER.
FILLMORE, CALL FOR BACKUP.
THERE'S NO TIME!
YOU AND INGRID, GRAB HARRISON.
I'LL FIND LOBSTEE.
YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND!
I WANT TO BE A TOP REPORTER. I WANT TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE.
IT'S MY DREAM!
IT'S ALWAYS BEEN MY DREAM.
WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT?
THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH YOUR DREAM.
BUT THE STUFF YOU'VE DONE TO MAKE IT HAPPEN --
YOU GOT A LITTLE LOST ALONG THE WAY, HARRISON.
AND NOW, MAYBE YOU'RE NOT EVEN
THE SAME KID WHO DREAMED THAT DREAM,
BECAUSE YOU HAVEN'T BEEN HELPING ANYBODY.
YOU'VE BEEN HURTING.
YOU FOOLS!
YOU COULDN'T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND.
NATOMA DIDN'T DESERVE THAT JOB.
I DID!
I'VE WORKED TWICE AS HARD AS HE HAS.
EDITOR IN CHIEF IS MY JUST REWARD.
LET'S MAKE THE LUNAR BOUNCE BOUNCE.
THE LUNAR BOUNCE! NO!
SO, PHILSKY, PHILSKY!
THIS WAS THE SCENE EARLIER
WHEN ALISTAIR GREYSTONE SHOWED UP WITH LOBSTEE!
INVIGORATING THE TEAM
AND BRINGING X ITS BIGGEST WIN EVER AGAINST GILBY.
WHAT A "FANTABULOUS" TURN OF EVENTS.
I NEVER HAD ANY DOUBT THAT OUR SAFETY PATROLLERS...
AND OUR RESIDENT PSYCHIC WOULD COME THROUGH.
DAY OR NIGHT, NIGHT OR DAY,
I KNOW WHO TO COUNT ON TO CRACK THE CASE.
WELL, YOU GUYS DID IT.
US? WE JUST CAUGHT THE SUSPECT.
YOU'RE THE HERO WHO FOUND LOBSTEE.
HERO? HECK, I'M NO BETTER THAN HARRISON.
I GOT SO CAREER CRAZY
THAT I SWINDLED PEOPLE TO STAY SUCCESSFUL.
TO BECOME WHAT I WANTED TO BE,
I SORT OF GAVE UP ON WHO I WANTED TO BE.
HEH -- I PREDICT THERE'S GONNA BE
A LOT LESS PREDICTING IN MY FUTURE.
WELL, HASTA LA BYE-BYE, OFFICERS.
SEE YA 'ROUND.
SO, YOU REALLY THINK IT WAS DUMB LUCK
THAT ALISTAIR WAS ABLE TO FIND LOBSTEE?
MUST HAVE BEEN.
I MEAN, WHAT OTHER EXPLANATION IS THERE?
THAT HE'S REALLY...
NO. COURSE NOT.
WHY? DO YOU THINK HE'S REALLY...
HECK, NO.
WHOO! PAPA CRACKY, LOOK OUT!
MY APPETITE'S SO BIG RIGHT NOW,
IT'S GONNA HAVE TO FOLLOW US THERE IN A SEPARATE CAR.
I'M ACTUALLY KIND OF GLAD WE RESCHEDULED DINNER TONIGHT.
NOTHING BEATS "FRY IT UP" FRIDAY.
IT'S COOL.
I HAVE A CARDIOLOGIST FRIEND BACK AT THE HOSPITAL
STANDING BY.
HOLD UP.
COME ON, GUYS. LET'S GET A MOVE ON.
YOU KNOW, HONEY,
THE ONLY GESTURE SWEETER THAN MAKING US THOSE BIBS
WOULD BE NOT MAKING US WEAR THEM.
NO DICE. NICE TRY, THOUGH.
IT WAS, WASN'T IT?
DEFINITELY.
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