ABC Weekend Specials (1977–1995): Season 13, Episode 4 - Commander Toad in Space - full transcript

You ready to rock?

Okay.

Terrific.

Stella.

Call up my personal log.

It's time for an entry
about our new mission.

Instead
of wasting my time, sugar,

why don't you play
a computer game?

And I'll rerun one
of your old, soggy spiels.

Spiels? What spiels?

You know, Commander...



"The Algaerian High Command
has finally come to their senses

and taken advantage of Stella's
superior capabilities."

Whoo!

- I hear you talking, darling.
- You bet.

Hey, Doc.
Does this sound familiar?

"Rumors have reached me
that this will be

the most important mission
in the millennium."

The rumors have reached me.

We're on the way up.

Well, that's what you said
before the last mission.

And the last one,
and the last one,

-and the last one, and the...
-Thank you.

-Right.
-Thank you, Doc.

And as much
as I love pizza,



delivering it to
that Royal Family on Darwin 3

isn't exactly my idea of a...

...top secret mission.

Wow! Whoo!

-What?
-Stella, what is it?

Cartousian pirates?
A rogue wormhole?

Anti-matter surf?

-Well?
-What?

Relax, honey.

Jack just gave me
a little startle, that's all.

Sorry.

That's okay, child.

Just be more careful.

And warm up your hands

before you start digging around
in my private life again.

They're freezing!

Whoo! Brr!

-Young people.
-Yeah.

Well, at least Jack's cold hands

are keeping Stella
awake and alert.

Well, that's what
I'm talking about.

We've never been more ready
for an adventure.

-Right.
-Why, the SS Stella and her crew

are at their best right now.

We got trouble.

What?

- Look, it's Alpha.
- And she's out of control.

- Calm down, Alpha.
- You can get out of here!

- Come on, Jack. Let's go.
- Got her. Got her.

- Let go.
- I don't got her.

You stiff amphibian.
It's going to get me.

Get out of here,
you big piece of tin!

Get out of here, Alpha!

Alpha.

Alpha, stop making such a fuss.

I'll recharge your energy chip
when I have time.

Lieutenant Lily!

Can't you keep
those busy droids...

- Busy?
- Sorry, Commander.

I was trying to get
the teleporter operational.

What's the matter
with the teleporter?

Well, I sent
a flowerpot through

on its monthly maintenance test.

This is all that's left of it.

Great. What next?

Sorry to disturb
the show and tell, Commander.

But there's an unidentified ship
off my starboard sector.

Jack, starboard screen.

Starboard screen, aye.

Wow.

Flaming pink moons of Juno.

Looks like trouble, Commander.

Terrific.

Delivering pizzas suddenly
sounds like a great job.

Strange. They don't appear
to have their shields up.

Well, they may be trying
to catch us off-guard.

Stay loose, everyone.

SS Stella to intruder.
Identify yourself at once.

Or we'll be forced to open fire.

Hold everything, Commander.

That's a Cereblus Class warship.

Laser cannons, nova torpedoes,
spud-homing projectiles,

and a force field beam

that would crush Stella
like an eggshell.

All that power.

Come on, boys.

Get back to business
and get us out of this mess.

And put your buggy eyes
back in your heads.

We love you, Stella.

I repeat.
Identify yourself at once.

Crew, be ready.

If they don't answer,

we're going to have to do
some serious space hopping.

Don't worry, dear.

SS Stella.

This is the heavy battlecruiser MacGuffin

under orders from
the Algaean High Command.

MacGuffin?

Why didn't you
identify yourself earlier?

Long-distance communication
was curtailed.

In deference to the top secret
nature of your mission.

Yes! I knew this was gonna be
the big one.

-Yes.
-Whoa.

All right. I'm excited too.

At last, a real mission!

Doc, give me five.

What do you want, money?

Commander Toad.

Prepare to receive
teleportation delivery.

Must be sending us something
to do with the mission.

The teleporter!

-We have to stop them.
-Too late.

They've already transmitted.

Quick! To the teleporter.

Out of my way and eat my dust!

No. It's acting up again.

Leaping lily pads!

Lieutenant, what's going on?

Come on, please. Make nice,

or you're spare parts
in the garbage disintegrator.

Something's coming.

Jack!

Get away! Everybody, stand back.

What's going on, Commander?

Whoa!

What is it?

It's a box.

Our secret mission is a box?

Correction!

- A wooden box.
! A wooden box.

-Right.
-Now, it's all making sense.

-Sure.
-Well...

At least it's not pizza.

Okay, come on, everyone.

Let's get back to the bridge
and see what this is all about.

Heads up. We've got company.

Commander Toad.

I understand you've received
your top secret cargo.

Yeah. We did get a wooden box.

Now I realize

what this must seem like
to you, Commander.

But as you know,

things aren't always
as they appear.

Cleverly hidden
in that ordinary wooden box,

you're going to love this,

is the Royal Fisbon of Rodensia.

A priceless relic
of over 25,000 years old.

What in the name
of Martian magwums

is the Algaerian council

doing with
the Royal Fisbon of Rodensia?

It was placed with us
for safekeeping

when Rodensia joined
the Federation

and well...

We forgot we had it.

I seem to recall
that once every 3,000 years,

the fisbon becomes immensely
important to the Rodensians

because somehow

- it reenergizes their planet.
- Correct.

And now that 3,000 years is up.

They need the fisbon
as quickly as possible.

Which is where we come in.

Exactly.

But if you're even
a nano click late,

the Rodensians
will undoubtedly turn nasty.

Commander,
let's not be responsible

for causing any strife
in our already shaky world.

Am I making myself clear?

Admiral, you can count on us
like we were your fingers.

Just get it there on time,
and please...

take good care of the fisbon.

Good luck.

Sorry about my father, Toad.

When he gets the itch
to make me prove myself,

it means putting the rest of you
right there on the spot with me.

That's no problem,
Lieutenant.

I had to grow up
the hard way too.

Besides, putting up
with the Admiral does wrangle us

an interesting mission
once in a while.

Excuse me, Commander,

but I think this expedition
is gonna be a big pain.

According to
the navigational computer,

to get to Rodensia on time

we'll have to go through
the Bermuda Parsec.

Great! Who cares
if it's off-limits?

It might be fun
to disappear without a trace.

The Bermuda Parsec?

I'll bet the Commander's
looking forward

to this little adventure.

Will you all just relax?

What can possibly go wrong?

Hey, look. It's Alpha.

And she's got the Royal Fisbon.

That's the Royal Fisbon
of Rodensia?

And the Rodensians want it back?

Well, Alpha seems to like it.

Well, I suppose a bogus mission

is better than
no mission at all.

Lily,
set the Alpha Click Monitor

for mission time.

All set, Commander.

Stella, prepare for takeoff.

We've got one royal doodad
to deliver.

See? No problem?

Bermuda Parsec my big flipper.

We'll make it
with alpha clicks to spare.

This is the SS Pinafore
calling for assistance.

Ship can't move.

Something's pulling us.

-The ship's damage increases...-What's going on, Lieutenant?

Large asteroid belt
at starboard, Commander.

The distress call is coming
from somewhere on its far side.

It's a civilian
hailing frequency.

Rescuing endangered
space travelers.

This mission's looking up.

Begging the Commander's pardon,

but even at top speed,
we'll arrive on Rodensia

with only 42.6 alpha clicks
to spare.

The asteroids
are so close together,

Jack would have to guide
the ship through them...

manually.

Go manual? All right.

Manual navigation.

- Just like the old days.
- They're not answering.

Lily!

Current status?

The probability is 59 percent

that the vessel
will be able to survive

a four-hour wait
for a rescue ship.

Come on now.

I don't know where you get
your numbers, Lily,

but it doesn't sound to me

like those civilians
will survive without us.

But Commander, we can't
just ignore the risk of delay.

I'm not going to run from danger
just to make my schedule easier.

There are lives to be saved,
blast it.

Boy.
He's getting dramatic again.

Stella!

How about a little game
of intergalactic dodgeball?

We prefer ping-pong.

Ooh! Bring 'em on, darling.

-I'm all for dodging.
-Navigator.

Ready to play some asteroid tag?

Do toads have warts?

No offense, Commander.

Shift to manual control.

Take it away, Jack.

Nice driving, child.

-Better check your nine o'clock.
-I see it, Stella. Whoo!

Whoa!

Eight...

Watch out.

Stella, are you all right?

- My aching dorsal.
- I'm really sorry.

Don't worry about it.
I'll grow another one when...

-Hey! Three o'clock high.
-I see it.

Thrusters on full.

Whoo-hoo!

Where'd you learn
to boogie like that, child?

- You ain't seen nothing yet.
- Whoo-hoo!

Well, I've seen enough.

We missed it.

Not even close.

Close enough.

I'm not having
any fun yet.

Star vessel dead ahead.

There's something else
dead ahead, too.

It looks like...

A Tenubrian tentaclon.

Commander.

It looks like
a hungry Tenubrian tentaclon!

Let go.

And he's coming back
for seconds.

Hang on, everybody!

Can't break free.

This overgrown microbe
is strong.

Stella's thrusters
are overheating.

She can't keep this up
much longer.

We're gonna have
to blast this creep

into space spaghetti.

But Toad, it doesn't do any good
to blast a tentaclon.

Energy is what it feeds on.

All right then.

If old starship breath
wants to eat,

ha, I say we see how much
it can hold.

But Commander, that's crazy.
Isn't it?

Force-feeding a tentaclon?

Well, there's certainly no one
around to say it won't work.

But then again,
there wouldn't be, would there?

What do you say, Lieutenant?

What have we got to lose?

All right then.
Full power to blasters.

Open fire!

Good shooting, Stella.

Keep firing.

Come on.

Hang on.

No!

I can't believe it.

It let go of Stella.

-What happened?
-You tell him, Doc.

You sly dog.

Thanks.

Well,

it appears that the tentaclon,

vicious energy parasite
that he is,

has reached maximum
saturation level.

I can't understand a word
you're saying, honey.

Speak English, Doc,
so Stella can understand you.

The creature
is in a state of inebriation.

-You mean it's become...
-Exactly.

Whoa.

The tentaclon
has become drunk with power.

Gross.

There goes the Pinafore.

You know, Lily,

I think there's
a 59 percent probability

that the SS Pinafore
is glad we paid them a visit.

I would venture to say
100 percent, Commander.

Commander Toad.

What in the name
of Sugar Frosted Quarter

is going on out there?

Don't thank us, Admiral.

- We're just doing our duty.
- Really?

I'd say you were ignoring
your duty, Commander.

Do you realize
how little time you have left

to reach Rodensia?

And they aren't happy about it.

Look.

If the Algaeian Council

thinks they can get away
with this insult,

they are sadly mistaken.

That's how we growl on Rodensia.

Well, Commander,

what have you to say
for yourself?

Well, you see, Admiral,

Commander Toad was acting

well within the parameters
of the mission, Admiral.

We still have sufficient
alpha clicks

to reach Rodensia on schedule.

What?

Well, if you say so, Lieutenant.

You do have
your father's instincts.

-But I certainly don't like--
-Excuse me, Admiral.

- But we have to be moving along.
- What?

Yes, yes, of course.

Thanks for covering
for me, Lily,

but do we really have
enough time?

- Stella?
- For you, darling,

I can get us to Rodensia in...

...yup, 20 alpha clicks.

Excellent.

If we space skip.

Well, I wonder
what Doc thinks about that?

Space skip?

I hate space skipping.

Can I walk?

I'll be downstairs.

Prepare to activate skip drive.

Did I mention
that I hate this?

Activate.

My aching head.

I think that I'm gonna be sick.

-Me too.
-What?

Doc, what's happening?

Who are you?

I don't know.

I think I'm you.

Something's wrong.

We're experiencing
a space-time distortion.

Indubitably.

Don't use big words.

I don't think
this galaxy's ready

for two Commander Toads.

The galaxy can't even handle
one Commander Toad.

Tell me about it.

Stella! What happened?

Status report.

Well, darling. I got bad news
and I've got worse news.

Well, let me have it.

The bad news is,

the space skip was thrown off
by my asteroid-dented dorsal.

Yes. We noticed.

The both of us.

What's the worse news?

We're gonna be late to Rodensia.

No.

- Not more trouble.
- Commander Toad.

Where are you?

Rodensia's
on the verge of chaos.

- You must...
- Sorry, Admiral.

We're experiencing
communication problems.

Bye, Dad.

If you fail...

You better have a plan, Toad,

or we're going to be
in big trouble.

Plan...

Of course, I have a plan.
I always have a plan.

Got it!

All we have to do
is top, top speed.

Well, this is an emergency.

I suppose we could feed
Stella's system more hydrogen.

- What do we use?
- Anything.

Boots, blankets, garbage.

Stella can split hydrogen
out of anything.

-Isn't that right, Stella?
-Have mercy, honey.

I'm a vegetarian.

Well, just leave room
for dessert.

No sugar, Toad.
I gotta watch my girlish figure.

Let's feed it Alpha!

No, I'm just kidding.

No, I'm not. It's a good idea!

Here's some more hydrogen.

Make sure you chew that
before you swallow.

My aching innards.

- Sorry, Stella.
- Yuck.

It's really tasty.

That tastes weird.

Here's some dessert.

Jack, come on.

-Open up.
-Yuck.

Stella!

Commander, we have
just enough alpha clicks

to make it to Rodensia.

It's working.

We're going to make it. Ha!

Toad, there will be time

to take that skimmer down
to the planet.

How are you gonna get that
goofy headgear down in time?

The moment we get into range,

-I'm going to teleport.
-Teleport?

But the teleporter's cranky.

To say the least.

Don't remind me.

Now.

Where's that ridiculous crown?

At least she's over
the teleportation pad.

Lily, when I grab her,

activate the teleporter.

Toad, it's too dangerous.

Remember
what happened last time?

Please, Lily.

This isn't the time
to remind me.

What happened last time?

Transmission glitch.

Non-simultaneous arrival.

-Very messy.
-You mean...

parts arrived
at different times?

You got it, kiddo.

Alpha? Come down, Alpha.

Alpha, are you okay?

Commander.

Get ready, Lily.

A toad's gotta do
what a toad's gotta do.

Please. Come on.

You've got to work.

Activate!

I hope the Commander makes it.

I sure hope he makes it
in one piece.

I won't have anybody
to pick on anymore.

You got me.

It ain't the same.

I'm waiting!

Two thousand nine hundred
and ninety-nine years!

-Come on.
-We cannot wait any longer.

Three thousand years is so long
to wait for something.

Drat!

We've been betrayed.

The Algaean Council
has not kept its word.

Our tri-millennial ceremony
will be ruined.

Our planet is doomed.

Who's being so rude?

What is the meaning
of this intrusion?

Sir, on behalf
of the Algaean Council,

I, Commander Toad, present...

the Royal Fisbon.

With our compliments.

The Royal Fisbon.

At last. At last!

Thank you, Commander.

All of Rodensia
will be forever grateful.

-Anything else?
-Excuse me.

Hello, you gorgeous thing.

I love it when it does this.

Look at this.
Look at when it does this.

It's time
for the Royal Convergence.

- Open!
- Fisbon. Fisbon.

Fisbon!

Fisbon! Fisbon! Fisbon!

It's happening!

Live! Rodensia!

Terrific!

A chromatic convergence.

The prettiest sight
in the universe.

Interplanetary alignment.

Only happens once
every 3,000 years.

Another alpha click
and we'd have been too late.

So, Commander,

you've recovered
from your dangerous mission.

You certainly called it close.

I know what it must have
seemed like, Admiral.

But as you know...

...things aren't always
as they appear.

Well, yes. Yes, of course.

When you have a crew

as tip-top, ship-shape,
and nifty noodle as mine...

Nifty noodle?

Well...

Well, when you have a ship
the caliber of the SS Stella,

nothing's too tough to handle.

Good. Then it appears
we have another mission

suitable for you
and your nifty noodle crew.

A delivery.

This time a prince
of the Royal House of Pudd.

We're teleporting him up
as we speak.

Teleporting?

- Commander, do something.
- Commander.

Lily? Doc. Jack!

What's the matter?

Adios, Admiral.

Where are you going?

Relax, Admiral.

They're just trying
to keep the Royal Pudd Prince

- from becoming pudding.
- Yes.

Well, who was it who once said

that things aren't always
as they appear?

I wish I could remember
his name.