The Tick (1994–1997): Season 3, Episode 1 - That Mustache Feeling - full transcript
The Tick wakes up with a full-grown mustache that has its own agenda. The Tick is pleased with the change and adopts a new, hipper attitude, but a group of specialists are tracking the mustache and cause problems at the bachelor p...
[equipment buzzing]
It is done.
The heavens will condemn us
for what we've wrought here today.
Ah, but morality's lease has run out,
and science has been given
the keys to the apartment.
Ours is not to question the--
[chokes]
[screams]
[gasping]
Hmm... I like you better without it.
[dreamy gibberish]
[alarm rings]
[hums]
[indistinct]
TICK: Morning Arthur.
[Arthur squeals]
[Arthur mumbles]
Look at your face!
[Tick mumbles unintelligibly]
[garbled]
Where'd you get the mustache.
Tick, where'd you get that mustache?
[verbally shrugs]
[spits]
Mustache!
Arthur!
I've got a mustache!
Tick...
You haven't shaved once since I met you.
ARTHUR: How could you
possibly grow a mustache overnight?
Yes, well...
apparently I've been saving it up!
Saving...
What are you talking
about? That's not how it w--
Oh, look at it Arthur.
Ooh...
So silky!
So... smoothy!
Oh, please...
Oh, this changes everything!
I feel... different.
Better!
A new sensation spreading
out from my upper lip,
to every other part of my body!
It's a feeling I...
I can't quite describe.
It's a...
It's a savvy kind of feeling!
A suave-y kind of feeling!
Kind of a-
Kind of a...
mustache feeling!
♪ [funky disco music swells] ♪
♪ Mustache! ♪
♪ Got that feeling. ♪
♪ Mustache feeling's in my soul. ♪
♪ Got that feeling. ♪
♪ From my lip down to my toe. ♪
♪ Mustache! ♪
♪ He ain't nobody's fool. ♪
♪ He bought himself some cool! ♪
♪ Upper lip, slick and hip. ♪
♪ Pointy on the ends. ♪
♪ Making a new set of friends! ♪
♪ Got that feeling. ♪
♪ Mustache feeling. ♪
♪ Oh that mustache kind of feeling. ♪
Ha ha!
SEWER URCHIN: Course,
definitely nice mustache.
Two words, Tick:
chick
magnet.
Yow!
Hey...
That's for all women everywhere!
It really is a beautiful mustache, Tick.
Okay, fine, Tick. It's a nice mustache.
[sighs]
So, like I was saying,
the whole situation is
fine with me. Really I--
Rugged. Self-assured. Adult.
These are the words that describe
the man who wears a mustache.
[slurps]
Yes, it says to the world,
"I'm a man of action!"
Ah, but action tempered with maturity.
Like a fireman! Or somebody's dad...
TICK: Y'know, most of your world
leaders have mustaches!
[phone rings]
Oh, anything but this.
ARTHUR: Hello? Oh hi, Dot.
You're what?!
No... no I...
I'm not upset. It just seems so, uh...
heh, sudden!
Well, think I'll take another
look at the mustache.
What do you mean, I knew you'd say that?
[sighs]
Have you told Mom & Dad yet?
Ah, it is good!
But might be a touch uneven.
[razor hums]
ARTHUR: Tick!
TICK: Huh?!
[insect-like chittering]
Tick! My sister and
Dinosaur Neil got engaged!
They're getting married!
Ah. Neil's got a mustache!
Oof!
Huh?!
Eyes playing tricks
like tiny, round devils.
Oh, well. Time to go to bed!
[snores]
[insectoid chittering]
[snipping]
[waking choke]
Eh?
[screams repeatedly]
[gasps and screams]
[muffled hysterical screams]
[screams in terror]
[gradually calms]
[sighs]
[Mustache chitters]
Arthur! Arthur! My mustache! My mus--
[garbled nonsense]
[crashes and screams]
Eh, whatever...
[crashes and screams] Yeah, yeah.
Everyone loves your mustache. Go to sleep.
[groans in pain]
[gasps]
[tearful gibberish]
Special Agent Jim Rage.
I run a top secret operation
for a loosely-defined, if not
non-existent, branch of our government.
Project: SHAVE.
Our mission: destroy The Mustache!
Ah, but the beast is wily prey.
I couldn't do it alone; I needed
three very special ladies.
The ladies of SHAVE!
Kitty Zangatu: ninjutsu,
demolitions, electrolysis.
Holly Go-Lovely: kung fu,
demolitions, she-devil with a comb.
And Crystal: liberal arts,
demolitions, red hot with a hair dryer.
Some day, I'll tell her I love her.
But not until I get that mustache.
And I will!
Even if I have to send
this sorry Earth to fiery ruin.
[quiet snoring]
Sleep, angels.
Sleep, special ladies;
you'll need your rest.
[Tick snores]
[grumbles sleepily]
[keys clacking]
[insectoid chittering]
[yawns]
I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well.
Tick was making noise all night.
Who knows?
So listen, Die Fledermaus, can you come
to Neil & Dot's engagement party tonight?
[exasperated]
Yes, it's free.
[chittering and keys clacking]
[snorts awake]
Please! I don't want to fight anymore!
Can't we just-- Huh?
What's this?
Hmm...
[reading]
Tick,
[reads phonetically as English nonsense]
Ayudame, por favor.
Estoy enamorada con alguien
que yo nunca he conocido.
Huh... This is some kind of gibberish!
Mustache! I will not be mocked by you!
Huh?!
Ow! Oh no, please!
I can't read your crazy moon language!
[crashes, painful grunts]
All right, mustache...
That's it!
No, no, no, Sewer Urchin,
it's not here, it's at Neil's.
In the suburbs.
Well, I'm sure there's a
sewer that goes there...
TICK: I tried to reason with you.
I tried to get along, but oh no!
You had to keep pushing, didn't
you? You just had to cross that line.
I didn't wanna have to do this,
but you've brought it upon yourself!
[razor buzzes]
[grunts in frustration]
Huh...
Cagey little fella.
Oh no...
[screams in pain]
[Tick screaming]
Hello? American Maid?
Hi, listen...
[Tick screams]
Tick, keep it down! I'm on the phone!
[grunting and screaming]
Oho! Ow...
[gasps repeatedly]
[sobs]
[Mustache chitters]
Yow!
Ah!
[Tick screaming]
So, Dot, I've invited everybody.
[screams continue]
Tick and I will bring the potato salad.
[pained exclamations]
Dot, are you mad at me or something?
Well I told you I'm fine with it.
Really, I wouldn't bring
potato salad if I had a--
Arthur!
My mustache is touching my brain!
[screams in agony]
What? No, Tick's just talking
about his mustache again.
[gasps and sobs]
ARTHUR: Tick! I hope you're
cleaning up that mess in there!
Waugh!
[gasps painfully]
[sobs]
I never knew what guys
with mustaches went through.
[assorted chatter]
DOT: Thanks for helping
out with the party, Arthur.
Y'know, Dot,
I'm sorry I was so weird
about your engagement at first.
Oh, you don't have to
explain, Arthur, we understand.
Chocolate trilobite?
♪ [funky music] ♪
♪ Who's the man? ♪
TICK: It's Taft!
Darn right.
Taft, what are you doing here?
I live next door.
♪ Right next door! ♪
Neil's my neighbor.
♪ Good neighbors! ♪
Feeds my cats when I'm away.
♪ Feed those kitties! ♪
Hey! I like the new 'stache, Tick.
Uh... Taft,
you've got a mustache.
Could I, uh, ask you a few questions?
Sure, baby. Shoot.
Okay...
[clears throat]
Does your mustache
ever... hurt you?
Oh, yeah. Sometimes it
catches on my sweater.
Gets stuck in the zipper on my jacket.
Yes. Yes!
Or... Or, like, when it grabs a lamp
and smacks you in the head with it?!
Uh...
I dunno. Tick's been acting strange.
He's fixated on his mustache.
Says it moves.
He says it writes him letters!
Oh great...
Neil's going to ask The
Tick to be his best man!
Oh, well that'll be nice!
[Tick speaking in crazed tones]
No.
It cut this personals ad out of the paper.
With scissors!
It wants to meet this... R. B.
on the Dewey Bridge tonight at 10 o'clock.
Well, Tick.
Looks like your mustache
has a date in half an hour.
Arthur! You gotta help me!
It's my mustache...
[sighs] Again with your mustache!
This is Neil and Dot's party, Tick, and
you haven't even congratulated them yet!
But, Arthur--
No, Tick! No! Not everything is
about your mustache, y'know?!
[explosion]
We're with the government!
We want that mustache!
BOTH: Ahh!!!
[both screaming]
Nobody move or everyone gets hurt!
Holly, Kitty, Crystal...
spread out!
I'm moussing it.
[machine clicking]
Gah!
[spits, sputters]
[Tick screams]
RAGE: Go, Kitty, go!
Yank that beast out at the roots!
[Tick gasping]
[Kitty exclaims]
[Mustache chitters]
[Tick grunts in pain]
Oof!
[screams in pain]
Hey!
Oh. Not bad!
Oof!
[gasps in terror]
You better give me that mustache, chump.
[screams]
[Arthur screams]
[blow-dryer whirs]
Jim! Mousse, now!
[Arthur screams]
Ahh!!
[each grunt in succession]
Ah! Very bad!
Ah!
What?!
[screams in rage]
You!
RAGE: Uncle Sam wants you in my RV!
[screams rise and fall]
[Mustache chitters]
[Tick pants]
TICK: What's going on?
Who are you people?
And how did you know about my mustache?!
Tick, I'm special agent Jim
Rage of Project: SHAVE.
These are the special ladies of SHAVE.
Does this look familiar?
TICK: Ah! My mustache!
RAGE: No, Tick, not just your mustache.
Yours and a thousand other tortured souls.
Mexico City, '75!
Denver, '78.
Helsinki, '82.
Tangiers, 83.
Your mustache has been
around the world and back again.
Across a thousand faces
in a thousand ports of call.
I know, because I've been
hunting it for twenty long years!
Wh-- What does it want?
We don't know what it's after.
It was a secret experimental
weapon developed by the government.
It went rogue in 1974.
That's why we were brought in.
But why would the government
create such an insane weapon?
[grunts fiercely]
You don't understand, man.
The Russians were
already working on a beard.
We had a facial hair gap!
[screams]
[screams and chittering fade into distance]
Funny thing about that mustache,
y'know it wrote me a letter but--
KITTY: Gimme that!
TICK: Hey!
It's in Spanish.
[reads]
Tick,
[reads rapidly in Spanish]
Please help me. I am in love
with someone I've never met.
I have been searching for twenty
years. I don't want to hurt anyone.
I knew you could survive
Project: SHAVE's attacks.
They aren't even with the
government... anymore?!
[angrily]
They lost their funding in 1986?!
What?!
Hey! That's a personal letter
from my mustache to me!
[swallows]
Hehe.
Propaganda, Tick!
That mustache is an
expertly-trained bad apple, and a liar.
[moans wearily]
Yeah... think I permanently
stretched my lips.
[grumbles in confusion]
That's it! No more beauty-school tactics.
We're switching to conventional weapons!
We're not taking anymore
chances with that mustache!
We're going to blow the
whole end off the bridge!.
No, Special Agent Jim!
You said we were serving our country!
Jimmy, you've been lying to us!
Yeah! And if your funding's cut,
then Project: SHAVE doesn't exist!
And we don't have to live
in this lame RV anymore!
Et tu, Crystal?
Wait a minute... Hey!
TICK: You've got both eyes!
You're no special agent!
You're just some jerk
who hates my mustache!
Mayday! Mayday!
Mutiny on the RV!
TICK: No! You can't blow up Stinky!
He's not even moving!
[all grunting in pain]
[all mumbling sorely]
Hello.
[strains]
You've got nowhere to go, Mustache!
You've run out of lip!
[cackles maniacally]
Oof!
Twenty years! Twenty years!!
[Tick strains]
Don't do it, Jim Rage!
[mumbles quietly]
Whoa!
The Russian Beard!
TICK: The Russian Beard?
Hey! It's R. B. from the personals!
[beard chitters]
RAGE: No!
[Rage grunts painfully]
RAGE: Oof!
[chittering]
♪ [romantic music swells] ♪
Oh! After all this, The
Mustache can still forgive!
Hi.
Hey, ya know, that
looks pretty good on you.
Oh. Thanks.
[chittering]
See ya.
CRYSTAL: Goodbye,
Mustache! Sorry!
Good luck!
What are we gonna do now?
Hmm. So The Mustache was in love.
Oh, that's cool!
Love is cool.
That mustache was cool.
But it didn't make me cool.
It made Sewer Urchin swing
ten miles by his upper lip!
Twelve and a half. Yeah.
[Rage grumbles]
TICK: And look at Jim Rage.
He should've been cool.
TICK: He had a cool eye-patch.
Cool RV. Cool gadgets!
And he traveled the world with three
vivacious, exciting, talented beauticians!
That's cool!
But he wasn't cool.
Y'know, Arthur, I may
have lost my mustache,
but I've gained, uh...
[chuckles]
I haven't gained a thing.
That's okay, Tick.
I like you better without it.
TICK: Hey, Arthur. Hogarth Lemney writes:
Dear Tick, what would you
do if bees took over the world?
Egad, Hogarth!
When the bees implement
their worldwide fascist regime,
I will be the first to go
down into the honey mines!
I will be the first to carry their
squirming larvae in my teeth!
To smear royal jelly
on their chosen queen!
And why?! Good heavens.
On account of the stinging!
It is done.
The heavens will condemn us
for what we've wrought here today.
Ah, but morality's lease has run out,
and science has been given
the keys to the apartment.
Ours is not to question the--
[chokes]
[screams]
[gasping]
Hmm... I like you better without it.
[dreamy gibberish]
[alarm rings]
[hums]
[indistinct]
TICK: Morning Arthur.
[Arthur squeals]
[Arthur mumbles]
Look at your face!
[Tick mumbles unintelligibly]
[garbled]
Where'd you get the mustache.
Tick, where'd you get that mustache?
[verbally shrugs]
[spits]
Mustache!
Arthur!
I've got a mustache!
Tick...
You haven't shaved once since I met you.
ARTHUR: How could you
possibly grow a mustache overnight?
Yes, well...
apparently I've been saving it up!
Saving...
What are you talking
about? That's not how it w--
Oh, look at it Arthur.
Ooh...
So silky!
So... smoothy!
Oh, please...
Oh, this changes everything!
I feel... different.
Better!
A new sensation spreading
out from my upper lip,
to every other part of my body!
It's a feeling I...
I can't quite describe.
It's a...
It's a savvy kind of feeling!
A suave-y kind of feeling!
Kind of a-
Kind of a...
mustache feeling!
♪ [funky disco music swells] ♪
♪ Mustache! ♪
♪ Got that feeling. ♪
♪ Mustache feeling's in my soul. ♪
♪ Got that feeling. ♪
♪ From my lip down to my toe. ♪
♪ Mustache! ♪
♪ He ain't nobody's fool. ♪
♪ He bought himself some cool! ♪
♪ Upper lip, slick and hip. ♪
♪ Pointy on the ends. ♪
♪ Making a new set of friends! ♪
♪ Got that feeling. ♪
♪ Mustache feeling. ♪
♪ Oh that mustache kind of feeling. ♪
Ha ha!
SEWER URCHIN: Course,
definitely nice mustache.
Two words, Tick:
chick
magnet.
Yow!
Hey...
That's for all women everywhere!
It really is a beautiful mustache, Tick.
Okay, fine, Tick. It's a nice mustache.
[sighs]
So, like I was saying,
the whole situation is
fine with me. Really I--
Rugged. Self-assured. Adult.
These are the words that describe
the man who wears a mustache.
[slurps]
Yes, it says to the world,
"I'm a man of action!"
Ah, but action tempered with maturity.
Like a fireman! Or somebody's dad...
TICK: Y'know, most of your world
leaders have mustaches!
[phone rings]
Oh, anything but this.
ARTHUR: Hello? Oh hi, Dot.
You're what?!
No... no I...
I'm not upset. It just seems so, uh...
heh, sudden!
Well, think I'll take another
look at the mustache.
What do you mean, I knew you'd say that?
[sighs]
Have you told Mom & Dad yet?
Ah, it is good!
But might be a touch uneven.
[razor hums]
ARTHUR: Tick!
TICK: Huh?!
[insect-like chittering]
Tick! My sister and
Dinosaur Neil got engaged!
They're getting married!
Ah. Neil's got a mustache!
Oof!
Huh?!
Eyes playing tricks
like tiny, round devils.
Oh, well. Time to go to bed!
[snores]
[insectoid chittering]
[snipping]
[waking choke]
Eh?
[screams repeatedly]
[gasps and screams]
[muffled hysterical screams]
[screams in terror]
[gradually calms]
[sighs]
[Mustache chitters]
Arthur! Arthur! My mustache! My mus--
[garbled nonsense]
[crashes and screams]
Eh, whatever...
[crashes and screams] Yeah, yeah.
Everyone loves your mustache. Go to sleep.
[groans in pain]
[gasps]
[tearful gibberish]
Special Agent Jim Rage.
I run a top secret operation
for a loosely-defined, if not
non-existent, branch of our government.
Project: SHAVE.
Our mission: destroy The Mustache!
Ah, but the beast is wily prey.
I couldn't do it alone; I needed
three very special ladies.
The ladies of SHAVE!
Kitty Zangatu: ninjutsu,
demolitions, electrolysis.
Holly Go-Lovely: kung fu,
demolitions, she-devil with a comb.
And Crystal: liberal arts,
demolitions, red hot with a hair dryer.
Some day, I'll tell her I love her.
But not until I get that mustache.
And I will!
Even if I have to send
this sorry Earth to fiery ruin.
[quiet snoring]
Sleep, angels.
Sleep, special ladies;
you'll need your rest.
[Tick snores]
[grumbles sleepily]
[keys clacking]
[insectoid chittering]
[yawns]
I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well.
Tick was making noise all night.
Who knows?
So listen, Die Fledermaus, can you come
to Neil & Dot's engagement party tonight?
[exasperated]
Yes, it's free.
[chittering and keys clacking]
[snorts awake]
Please! I don't want to fight anymore!
Can't we just-- Huh?
What's this?
Hmm...
[reading]
Tick,
[reads phonetically as English nonsense]
Ayudame, por favor.
Estoy enamorada con alguien
que yo nunca he conocido.
Huh... This is some kind of gibberish!
Mustache! I will not be mocked by you!
Huh?!
Ow! Oh no, please!
I can't read your crazy moon language!
[crashes, painful grunts]
All right, mustache...
That's it!
No, no, no, Sewer Urchin,
it's not here, it's at Neil's.
In the suburbs.
Well, I'm sure there's a
sewer that goes there...
TICK: I tried to reason with you.
I tried to get along, but oh no!
You had to keep pushing, didn't
you? You just had to cross that line.
I didn't wanna have to do this,
but you've brought it upon yourself!
[razor buzzes]
[grunts in frustration]
Huh...
Cagey little fella.
Oh no...
[screams in pain]
[Tick screaming]
Hello? American Maid?
Hi, listen...
[Tick screams]
Tick, keep it down! I'm on the phone!
[grunting and screaming]
Oho! Ow...
[gasps repeatedly]
[sobs]
[Mustache chitters]
Yow!
Ah!
[Tick screaming]
So, Dot, I've invited everybody.
[screams continue]
Tick and I will bring the potato salad.
[pained exclamations]
Dot, are you mad at me or something?
Well I told you I'm fine with it.
Really, I wouldn't bring
potato salad if I had a--
Arthur!
My mustache is touching my brain!
[screams in agony]
What? No, Tick's just talking
about his mustache again.
[gasps and sobs]
ARTHUR: Tick! I hope you're
cleaning up that mess in there!
Waugh!
[gasps painfully]
[sobs]
I never knew what guys
with mustaches went through.
[assorted chatter]
DOT: Thanks for helping
out with the party, Arthur.
Y'know, Dot,
I'm sorry I was so weird
about your engagement at first.
Oh, you don't have to
explain, Arthur, we understand.
Chocolate trilobite?
♪ [funky music] ♪
♪ Who's the man? ♪
TICK: It's Taft!
Darn right.
Taft, what are you doing here?
I live next door.
♪ Right next door! ♪
Neil's my neighbor.
♪ Good neighbors! ♪
Feeds my cats when I'm away.
♪ Feed those kitties! ♪
Hey! I like the new 'stache, Tick.
Uh... Taft,
you've got a mustache.
Could I, uh, ask you a few questions?
Sure, baby. Shoot.
Okay...
[clears throat]
Does your mustache
ever... hurt you?
Oh, yeah. Sometimes it
catches on my sweater.
Gets stuck in the zipper on my jacket.
Yes. Yes!
Or... Or, like, when it grabs a lamp
and smacks you in the head with it?!
Uh...
I dunno. Tick's been acting strange.
He's fixated on his mustache.
Says it moves.
He says it writes him letters!
Oh great...
Neil's going to ask The
Tick to be his best man!
Oh, well that'll be nice!
[Tick speaking in crazed tones]
No.
It cut this personals ad out of the paper.
With scissors!
It wants to meet this... R. B.
on the Dewey Bridge tonight at 10 o'clock.
Well, Tick.
Looks like your mustache
has a date in half an hour.
Arthur! You gotta help me!
It's my mustache...
[sighs] Again with your mustache!
This is Neil and Dot's party, Tick, and
you haven't even congratulated them yet!
But, Arthur--
No, Tick! No! Not everything is
about your mustache, y'know?!
[explosion]
We're with the government!
We want that mustache!
BOTH: Ahh!!!
[both screaming]
Nobody move or everyone gets hurt!
Holly, Kitty, Crystal...
spread out!
I'm moussing it.
[machine clicking]
Gah!
[spits, sputters]
[Tick screams]
RAGE: Go, Kitty, go!
Yank that beast out at the roots!
[Tick gasping]
[Kitty exclaims]
[Mustache chitters]
[Tick grunts in pain]
Oof!
[screams in pain]
Hey!
Oh. Not bad!
Oof!
[gasps in terror]
You better give me that mustache, chump.
[screams]
[Arthur screams]
[blow-dryer whirs]
Jim! Mousse, now!
[Arthur screams]
Ahh!!
[each grunt in succession]
Ah! Very bad!
Ah!
What?!
[screams in rage]
You!
RAGE: Uncle Sam wants you in my RV!
[screams rise and fall]
[Mustache chitters]
[Tick pants]
TICK: What's going on?
Who are you people?
And how did you know about my mustache?!
Tick, I'm special agent Jim
Rage of Project: SHAVE.
These are the special ladies of SHAVE.
Does this look familiar?
TICK: Ah! My mustache!
RAGE: No, Tick, not just your mustache.
Yours and a thousand other tortured souls.
Mexico City, '75!
Denver, '78.
Helsinki, '82.
Tangiers, 83.
Your mustache has been
around the world and back again.
Across a thousand faces
in a thousand ports of call.
I know, because I've been
hunting it for twenty long years!
Wh-- What does it want?
We don't know what it's after.
It was a secret experimental
weapon developed by the government.
It went rogue in 1974.
That's why we were brought in.
But why would the government
create such an insane weapon?
[grunts fiercely]
You don't understand, man.
The Russians were
already working on a beard.
We had a facial hair gap!
[screams]
[screams and chittering fade into distance]
Funny thing about that mustache,
y'know it wrote me a letter but--
KITTY: Gimme that!
TICK: Hey!
It's in Spanish.
[reads]
Tick,
[reads rapidly in Spanish]
Please help me. I am in love
with someone I've never met.
I have been searching for twenty
years. I don't want to hurt anyone.
I knew you could survive
Project: SHAVE's attacks.
They aren't even with the
government... anymore?!
[angrily]
They lost their funding in 1986?!
What?!
Hey! That's a personal letter
from my mustache to me!
[swallows]
Hehe.
Propaganda, Tick!
That mustache is an
expertly-trained bad apple, and a liar.
[moans wearily]
Yeah... think I permanently
stretched my lips.
[grumbles in confusion]
That's it! No more beauty-school tactics.
We're switching to conventional weapons!
We're not taking anymore
chances with that mustache!
We're going to blow the
whole end off the bridge!.
No, Special Agent Jim!
You said we were serving our country!
Jimmy, you've been lying to us!
Yeah! And if your funding's cut,
then Project: SHAVE doesn't exist!
And we don't have to live
in this lame RV anymore!
Et tu, Crystal?
Wait a minute... Hey!
TICK: You've got both eyes!
You're no special agent!
You're just some jerk
who hates my mustache!
Mayday! Mayday!
Mutiny on the RV!
TICK: No! You can't blow up Stinky!
He's not even moving!
[all grunting in pain]
[all mumbling sorely]
Hello.
[strains]
You've got nowhere to go, Mustache!
You've run out of lip!
[cackles maniacally]
Oof!
Twenty years! Twenty years!!
[Tick strains]
Don't do it, Jim Rage!
[mumbles quietly]
Whoa!
The Russian Beard!
TICK: The Russian Beard?
Hey! It's R. B. from the personals!
[beard chitters]
RAGE: No!
[Rage grunts painfully]
RAGE: Oof!
[chittering]
♪ [romantic music swells] ♪
Oh! After all this, The
Mustache can still forgive!
Hi.
Hey, ya know, that
looks pretty good on you.
Oh. Thanks.
[chittering]
See ya.
CRYSTAL: Goodbye,
Mustache! Sorry!
Good luck!
What are we gonna do now?
Hmm. So The Mustache was in love.
Oh, that's cool!
Love is cool.
That mustache was cool.
But it didn't make me cool.
It made Sewer Urchin swing
ten miles by his upper lip!
Twelve and a half. Yeah.
[Rage grumbles]
TICK: And look at Jim Rage.
He should've been cool.
TICK: He had a cool eye-patch.
Cool RV. Cool gadgets!
And he traveled the world with three
vivacious, exciting, talented beauticians!
That's cool!
But he wasn't cool.
Y'know, Arthur, I may
have lost my mustache,
but I've gained, uh...
[chuckles]
I haven't gained a thing.
That's okay, Tick.
I like you better without it.
TICK: Hey, Arthur. Hogarth Lemney writes:
Dear Tick, what would you
do if bees took over the world?
Egad, Hogarth!
When the bees implement
their worldwide fascist regime,
I will be the first to go
down into the honey mines!
I will be the first to carry their
squirming larvae in my teeth!
To smear royal jelly
on their chosen queen!
And why?! Good heavens.
On account of the stinging!