Parental Discretion Advised ("Accord Parental Souhaitable" in French) is the seventh episode of Kaput & Zösky: The Ultimate Obliterators.
Plot Synopsis[]
If traditional conquest doesn't work our... protagonists(?) will try the most powerful weapon of the modern-day. Television! However, being good producers isn't as easy as it seems.
Transcript[]
| (Opening and title card) | |
| Zösky: | (Laughs wickedly) Yes! It's Planet Boob Tube, the only planet with every television channel in the solar system! These guys are the swankiest: they're full of broozoofs, they've got the hottest hot tubs and the sportiest sports cars! |
| Kaput: | Don't touch that dial, this is exactly the type of programming I need! |
| Kaput and Zösky: | (Laughing as they park the ship and hop out, crisperizers raised) |
| Inhabitant 1: | Hey, take a look at these guys! They must be the new anchormen! |
| Inhabitant 2: | They look more like a couple of gameshow hosts to me. |
| Kaput: | (Points crisperizer in inhabitant 2's face) You got it, valley girl! Tell us where the big boss is or I'll liposuction your face! |
| Inhabitant 1: | Oh, you must mean the Program Director. |
| Inhabitant 2: | On the top floor of that skyscraper. (Points) |
| Kaput and Zösky: | (Scene changes; the two board an elevator) (The elevator bell dings and the two grin, hopping out, guns raised) |
| Zösky: | We would like to see the Program Director. Now. |
| Receptionist: | Who may I announce? |
| Kaput: | Kaput and Zösky: the worst sharks in the universe. |
| Receptionist: | Sir, there are two producers here to see you. |
| Program Director: | (Over the intercom:) Let them in. |
| Kaput: | (Kicks down the door alongside Zösky) Hyah! Okay, get lost, you pile of crud! You are fired! |
| Program Director: | No, no, no, no. The concept is too violent! The audience wants sensitive, emotional material! |
| (The sound of crisperizers firing plays; when the camera cuts back the Program Director is gone) | |
| Zösky: | (To Kaput:) After you, my dear Program Director. |
| Kaput: | No, no, no. You first, my dear Program Director! |
| Kaput and Zösky: | (Sit on the chair in unison, putting their feet up on the table) |
| Receptionist: | From the bottom of my heart, I thank you. I have been promoted to Program Director thanks to you! |
| Zösky: | Ehm, what are you talking about? |
| Receptionist: | I've been the late Program Director's assistant for the past 45 years! Now that he has, eh...passed on, I automatically take his place! That's how it works here on Planet Boob Tube. |
| Zösky: | (Snickers alongside Kaput:) Oh? Is that all? That's all right, then! |
| Kaput: | (Pulls crisperizer and shoots the receptionist; laughs alongside Zösky) |
| Zösky: | (Laughing:) She thinks that she's...! |
| Small alien: | Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you! (Jumps as Zösky fires a shot at his feet) |
| Kaput: | There! He's under the table, get him! Get him! Behind the chair; c'mon, c'mon...get him! Nail him! |
| Small alien: | (Attempts to crawls away, ends up at Zösky's feet) Oh. |
| Zösky: | Peek-a-boo. |
| Small alien: | Wait, wait, wait! Th-Th-There must be a solution. You can't just kill me! (Stammers) Wait...what if we asked the High Council of Sages for an opinion on this? |
| Zösky: | What are you talking about? |
| Small alien: | The council controls all the programming on Planet Boob Tube. They can surely arbitrate our...slight disagreement. |
| Kaput: | I don't need arbitration; I don't follow any rules! |
| Zösky: | Kaput, think it over for a second: we can't slaughter 5 billion people! It could take...hours! And who would we dominate if there's no one left after that, hm? |
| Kaput: | (Pauses for a long while) ...Huh. And where is this High, eh, whatchamacallit of yours? |
| (Scene changes; High Council is chattering) | |
| President: | I proclaim the annual hearing oven! |
| Councilman 1: | Open, Mr. President. Open. |
| President: | That's right: open! Bring in the first brain fizz. |
| Councilman 1: | Plaintiff, Mr. President. The first plaintiff. |
| President: | (Bangs gavel) |
| Small alien: | Honorable members of the Academy, these two maniacs seated before us tried to rob me of my well-deserved position...using force. |
| President: | (Councilmen chatter) That isn't very nice. That's a bad thing to do. |
| Kaput: | 'Course it is, we're bad, that's what we do. |
| Zösky: | (Stammering:) We're, eh, bad, but we have a-a-a-a ton of great ideas! (Laughs) For example, we could do a show about people who have lots to say about things they know nothing about! |
| Kaput: | Or, hey, a show where we ask questions! Like, "what color is your hair?" And, if they answer correctly, they win a spaceship! |
| Zösky: | Or a hot tub! |
| Small alien: | Pathetic. I've never heard such a bad concept. (Exclaims as Zösky forces his head down) |
| President: | Yes, I like it; it's marvellous! It's so terrible, everyone will love it for sure! Gentlemen, the Academy immediately and with no hesitation proclaims you the new Program Directors! |
| Small alien: | (Muffled:) [INAUDIBLE] |
| (President slams the gavel, scene changes; Kaput and Zösky are pulling up to a club in a hot tub in a limousine) | |
| Kaput: | (Splashing) Oh, it's unbelievably good! Oh-ho! |
| Kaput and Zösky: | (Walk up to the club on a red carpet; kick down the door as the patrons chatter and drink) |
| Zösky: | Greetings, my trendy friends! (Kaput sneers) |
| Crowd: | (Smiling and chattering) Mr. Program Director! ... Such a pleasure to meet you, sir. ... Your ideas are fantastic! ... I love your work! |
| Kaput: | Stop! Enough schmoozing! (Points to a small alien) You, the dwarf! Go get me some appetizers! (Insect-like alien comes up to Kaput, frowning) What do you want? |
| Small alien: | He's with the PCP: the Politically Correct Police. (Runs off) |
| PCP officer: | As a Program Director you must set an example. You must'nt call this gentleman a "dwarf" but a "vertically-challenged living being!" |
| Kaput: | (Drawing crisperizer alongside Zösky) Yeah, you wish, ya pile of crud! |
| (Crowd gasps; the PCP officer snatches their guns and replaces them with duds) | |
| Kaput and Zösky: | Hey! (Both fire crisperizers; corks pop out) Huh? |
| PCP officer: | I'm sorry, you are also forbidden to use any form of violence. |
| Kaput: | (Growls) (Poorly beeped-out:) Why you pile of crud! (The crowd gasps) |
| Zösky: | (Poorly beeped-out:) You maggot! (Crowd gasps again) |
| Kaput: | What's with all the beeping?! |
| PCP officer: | Sorry, but all profanity will be censored. |
| Kaput: | (Poorly beeped-out:) Freakin' planet! |
| PCP officer: | That's enough! You have gone far beyond the politically correct limits; you leave us no choice! |
| Kaput and Zösky: | (Turn to each other) Huh? |
| PCP officer: | You will be edited! |
| (Kaput and Zösky pop out of the shot; the crowd boos) | |
| Kaput: | (Scene change; back in the ship with Zösky) What a bunch of maggots! |
| Zösky: | Hey! We can say "maggots" again! |
| Kaput: | Yeah! |
| Kaput and Zösky: | (In quick succession:) Maggots! Maggots! Maggots! Maggots! Maggots! Maggots! Maggots! Maggots! (Uproarous laughter) |
| Zösky: | Wait, Kaput. Pee-pee poo-poo. |
| Kaput: | (Delighted:) Oh! Me too, me too! Caca...corno?(?) |
| Kaput and Zösky: | (Laugh hysterically) |
| (Credits) |
Characters[]
Gallery[]
