(quacks)
Remember always...
our strength comes from our blood,
from our family.
(gasps)
(chattering)
Slow down, you crab-crotched, crud-creeping,
mustard-colored meat maggot,
or I'll knock you on your...
Ow!
Bite moi, you brisket- brained lardapple,
you shim-shaped, shovel-faced shmegegge.
Shove it up your... Ow!
Duckman, your head's so far up your...
Ow!
Ah, kiss my... Ow!
Ajax, why do you keep yelling "ow"?
Dad, Mambo's kicking me.
I am not.
You're kicking yourself.
Say, you're right. Why would I do that?
Sometimes I'm so stupid I could kick myself.
Ow.
Can it, all of you!
The whole point of this vacation is to stop all the fighting
we've been doing lately.
We're not even there yet
and we're already squabbling like a bunch of Hungarians.
Aunt Bernice, it's been four years
since Zsa Zsa rear-ended you.
Let it go.
Your Aunt Bernice is right
and not just about Hungarians, either.
The least you can do is behave.
Didn't I give you boys what you've always wanted?
A visit to a real Indian reservation.
Wow, will we learn
all about genuine Native American traditions?
Ajax, you can always learn something
if you're not careful.
Duckman, I thought Cornfed was supposed to be following us.
(chuckles) Yeah, I managed to lose him about an hour ago.
DUCKMAN: Well, here we are.
I should have known this pagan pleasure palace
would be your idea of a genuine Native American reservation.
Bernice, for shame.
Supporting the mystifyingly legal ventures
of our Injun brethren is a way of atoning
for making them pick all that cotton.
Dad, Indians never picked cotton.
Then what the hell's their beef?
Ah!
(slot machines clinking)
Wow, no wonder aggregate gains
in leisure and gaming sectors
soared eight percent, defying NASDAQ trends.
Am I the only one who finds Lou Dobbs hypnotic?
Come on, let's crash this tepee
and start spending heap big wampum.
Woo-woo-woo-woo-woo-woo.
(clearing throat)
Sorry to interrupt your grotesque cultural stereotype,
but may I help you with something?
Finding an exit, perhaps, or showing you how soap works?
Don't flip your wigwam, Big Chief Fancypants.
We're checking in.
You, uh... you see we, uh... have a...
reservation!
(cackling)
Reservation!
(laughing continues)
(choking)
(gasping)
If I slap my knee any harder,
it will be a wounded knee.
Hey, we left our bags outside
because we didn't want to "totem" around.
Totem around...
Here's my imitation of Geronimo jumping out of a plane.
Me!
Me.
(sighs)
Don't worry if you don't get them all, buck.
I got a million of them.
Oh, goodie.
Blaze the trail, Tonto.
This is going to be the bestest vacation ever.
BERNICE: Duckman, I can't believe
we got kicked out of the spa because you
started whizzing in the pool.
Shows what you know.
I started whizzing long before I got in the pool.
Oh, dear, sir. I'm afraid that...
I'll just bet you're afraid, Red.
All these white people must give you flashbacks
to the scalping the redskins took at Little Bighorn.
But don't worry, we're just here to stuff our pale faces
so scout us a table and rev up the chuck wagon.
BERNICE: Duckman!
ALL: Dad!
What? They like when you steal.
They're a very giving people.
That's how we get the phrase "Indian giver."
See? You're learning already.
Hello, I'm Thomas, I'll be your server.
Let me tell you about our special tonight.
You begin with an appetizer of grilled leeks with saffron...
Yeah, get me a tumbler of Wild Turkey and keep them coming.
As for dinner, let's make this simple.
Country-fried steak and fish sticks for everybody.
And make the French fries crinkle-cut, okay.
Holds the ketchup better.
Hey, Walks-With-a-Swish--
chop-chop on the firewater, capiche?
(gasping)
I almost made it.
Through the giggling and the peek-a-boo
and the patty-cake.
Through interminable readings from Deepak Chopra
and Life's Little Instruction Book.
But then, during the Joseph
and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat medley,
I just snapped.
Glove compartment?
Tail pipe.
I gave the valet ten bucks
to wait a while before he pries them out.
Shrewd.
Duckman, why is that woman
staring at us and taking notes?
Guilty.
(chuckles)
Please forgive me.
I don't mean to intrude
but I have been watching you.
I'm Dr. Susan Fox.
The renowned family therapist and best-selling author?
Uh, yes.
Forgive me if I'm being presumptuous
but presumption is just... well, something I do.
Not your problem.
Based on the behaviors I've observed
over the last two days,
I believe that, unless you let me help you
this family will self-destruct
in a heartbreakingly tragic and violent way.
Yeah!
Whoo! I'm peeking duck.
Tragic? Violent?
What do you mean, Dr. Fox?
You see, in my landmark book, The Ties That Divide--
now available wherever quality paperbacks are sold--
I devise the Fox scale of dysfunctional crisis.
This group scores an 87.
Is that bad?
Well, the Jacksons only scored 61.
(gasping)
The good news is it's not too late.
I came here for some peace and quiet
to write my new book
which will finally offer hope to agoraphobics
but you people offer a much more exciting opportunity.
With your permission
I'd like to work with you
and make that my book.
What about the agoraphobics?
They're not going anywhere.
(laughing)
Well, then, what do you say?
I could save your family.
Hold your horses, Dr. Fox, medicine woman.
What makes you think we're dysfunctional?
Look, Dad, I'm eating more French fries than ever.
Love me, Dad.
Love me.
Call it a hunch.
Well, get some other rats for your snake pit, doc.
Case closed.
Waiter, pow-wow now.
This steak is raw.
It's got more pink than Showgirls.
Wrangle this slab back to the flame, okay, babe?
Come on, move.
Hey... yup.
They're such children.
(retching)
(snorting)
(groaning)
(creaking)
(retching)
(raspberry)
(squishing)
(sloshing)
(plopping)
(raspberry)
(repeated spitting)
(raspberry)
Bon appetit.
Oh, yeah... oh, yeah.
Oh, now we're talking.
Mm-hmm-mm, whoa.
It's like a thousand tiny taste sensations.
See? It takes an American to get things done.
Well... I...
really have to go now.
But I'll reserve the mezzanine conference room
in case you change your mind.
I'll be there tomorrow at 10:00.
I hope you'll all be there, too.
This may be your last hope
to survive the hideous doom to come.
Been a pleasure.
Good night.
Mmm.
(smacking)
Please, Dad.
We'd learn a lot about ourselves.
And avoid the disaster and tragedy
the doctor spoke of.
There is nothing wrong with this family
that some old fashioned belt-beatings wouldn't solve.
No more.
No shrinks!
It's shrinks that made this country touchy-feely.
It's shrinks that blab and blab on Sally Jesse
so the teenage nymphomaniacs can't get a word in edgewise.
It was shrinks that made me and Mom stop bathing together
when I was 15, just when I needed her love the most.
No shrinks, and that's final.
There's nothing wrong with this family.
Hey, uh, waiter, uno mas.
DR. FOX: This family will self-destruct.
BERNICE: We need help.
CHARLES: Please, Dad.
AJAX: Love me, Dad.
WAITER: ...grilled leeks with saffron.
ALL: You should've taken us to therapy.
(gasping)
Yikes!
That's less than ideal.
Why didn't you tell me
that tragedy and violence could happen to me?
We're going to see Doc Fox, and do whatever it takes
to pull out of dysfunction junction
and save this family.
All: Yay.
(chuckles)
I'm sure Duckman will be here soon.
Want to bet he's doing something to further embarrass
and humiliate us?
Mambo, you can't be sure of that.
Hey!
That fountain out there is full of change.
There are dimes in here.
Duckman, let me start by saying...
No, let me tell you, Madame D.A.,
exactly what's on the table.
I give you give the shooter you plead me down to man one.
I get eight plus time served and I'm out in three.
Do we have a deal or not?
Oh, uh, Dr. Fox.
I'm sorry, I thought this was my 4:00.
(chuckles)
Forget I said anything.
I'm very proud of all of you for coming.
What we're going to do won't be easy for any of you.
In order for this to work
you must all be completely, 100% honest.
You've got a blue ribbon pair of muskmelons
and Duckman's hungry!
Perhaps we should shoot for 90% honesty.
You're the doc.
Let me sum up your situation in terms you'll understand.
We have a father figure
who is too self-obsessed to be a real father.
Ding-ding-ding! Who is... me!
Duckman, this isn't a game.
Heh... gyp.
We have a domineering mother figure
who delights in cruelly emasculating
the men in her life.
Not just the men.
A boy with an eating disorder
totally disconnected from the world.
And two hyper-intelligent boys
who feel disenfranchised from the family.
We're like minor underwritten characters in our own lives.
Cornfed, the de facto uncle,
is a codependent with low self-esteem.
I think she's right, but what do I know?
And you two are...
What are you two again?
BOTH: We're Mr. Duckman's assistants.
Hah! They're just here so Duckman
can take phoney-baloney tax write-offs.
So?
Dad, it's illegal.
Used to be, Mambo,
but thanks to right-wing, religious nutballs
it's now a sacred duty to God and America
to disobey whatever laws you don't agree with.
Which reminds me, if any G-men come sniffing around,
we don't have automatic weapons
stockpiled in the basement, okay?
But we don't.
Ri-i-ight.
Charles, how does your dad make you feel
when he says things like that?
Well, ashamed... repulsed, scornful.
Just like me and my dad.
Mambo, what would be your vision of the ideal family?
One where intelligence was rewarded.
And where sensitive souls are cultivated instead of squashed.
Shut up, or you'll end up like those poets
I cold-cocked last week.
Ajax, what about you?
What's your vision of the perfect family?
(harp playing)
Oh, wow.
We finally have the proof that Joe and I have been looking for.
You're our long-lost brother.
Ajax Hackett.
(guffawing)
(Brian grunting)
Ajax, you're hurting me.
Mmm..
(sighing)
Uh-oh. He's in Nantucket again.
Perhaps we should come back to him.
Well, are we running the session now, Mister Psycholology?
I sense you harbor some resentment toward Cornfed.
It's not true.
You resent his competence, don't you?
No.
Open up-- I got Karen Black off cough syrup.
I can get you to admit you resent Cornfed.
Yes!
It's true, it's true!
(sobbing)
Wow, Mr. Duckman, a breakthrough.
Thanks to Dr. Fox,
and let's not forget
the soul-enriching Native American atmosphere.
Let us salute our Indian brothers.
Okay, I'll start with my tribute to Ed Ames.
(screaming)
No, please!
Hostility here could reverse the healing process.
Nice one, you pan-fried pony pellet.
I got a hatchet with your name on it, too,
stay-puffed marshmallow butt.
I can't listen to them fight anymore.
People, please calm down.
Oh, you want a piece of me?
You haven't got the huevos.
It's go time, baby.
Your emotional systems are very raw right now.
Count to ten before...
One-two-four-six-ten!
I want out of this family!
Me, too-- I've had it up to here.
Point at my chin, Charles.
I'm busy shaking my fist.
Point at your own chin!
Fine! From now on I want nothing to do with any of you.
I have no friends, I have no sister-in-law, i...
Doc, quick, lend me your jacket.
I... have... no sons!
Don't give in to rage.
Hah! You're complaining?
I'm the one who sacrificed my life
cleaning your post-binge filth,
vacuuming up dandruff the size of chickpeas
putting up with visits at all hours
from Captain Moron, here.
Don't take this the wrong way
but get bent, you lard-bottomed freak.
People, please!
ALL: I want out!
ALL: Me, too!
ALL: Fine!
ALL: Good-bye forever!
Helen, keep Joe busy
while Brian and I sneak Antonio's goat on the plane.
Okay, okay, this is not good.
We must solve this
or your family will be destroyed.
Now, a good start, Duckman,
would be for you to come out from under those chairs.
They're not chairs, they're a fort.
I call it "Fort Duckman," and only Duckman's allowed in,
and nobody's allowed in who doesn't like Duckman
who says bad things about Duckman or treats Duckman bad!
What are you changing your name to?
Uh, did somebody hear a voice?
Cornfed, I sense you have issues.
Oh, I have issues.
Like the time he had a big date
so he made me miss my mother's funeral
to cauterize his lucky goiter.
And the time he got drunk
and gave my phone number to Karen Black.
And the time he sold everything I own
to raise money to buy three truckloads
of Who's the Boss commemorative plates.
They were supposed to triple in value!
Damn you to hell, Tony Danza!
Damn you to hell!
Duckman, how does that list of, uh... atrocities
honestly make you feel?
Like firing up the charcoal
and popping a jug of open pit.
You and what United Nations peacekeeping force?
Somewhere there's got to be therapy you'll respond to.
Uh, like, like foam bats.
(chomping)
Oh, or, uh...
role-playing. Yes!
All right, then, role-playing it is.
Now, the idea behind the, uh...
Cornfed, what are you doing?
I'll be playing the role of Hal Holbrook
in an excerpt from my popular one-man show
Cornfed Pig is Hal Holbrook
is James Whitmore is Mark Twain Tonight!
The L.A Weekly called it "a foot-stomping, rollicking peek
at America's dark underbelly."
Let's just... stick to people in the room.
Perhaps if you assume each other's roles
you'll gain insight into each other's problems.
Duckman, you start.
Why don't you play the role of Cornfed?
Oh, yeah.
Now you're going to get it.
Take your best shot.
Stay focused!
Cornfed, tell us about yourself.
Hi, I'm Cornfed.
I think I'm so smart
because I know everything and I've had a lot of jobs
so I'm really cool and my slop don't stink.
Good start.
Now, Cornfed, why don't you give it a try?
You be Duckman.
Well, I'll try.
(in Duckman's voice): Stuff it up your spinach spout, you ham-handling hee-haw!
I've only got five minutes till pep squad practice is over
and with any luck, I'll be boom-bahing sis
before lights out!
I'm going to shine the old shank
scrim the old shaw, black the old lab, et-a-cetera.
(laughter)
Color me horny, Corny!
My pump is primed! Hoo-hoo!
No! Let's not make this all about Duckman!
Yeah. Wait, I got one, I got one.
(clears throat) I'm off to my favorite hooker-- myself.
Let's face it, I'm always available
always willing, and I really save money
with that five-finger discount.
(laughter)
We're supposed to find common ground!
We found it-- we all think Duckman's the problem!
Yeah, but... but...
Snappy comeback.
(raucous laughter)
Duckman, do you want to say anything?
I don't know.
Whatever.
Duckman, I've never met anyone like you,
and I don't know you well
but this much I do know about you--
you'll fight to have your steak just right,
you'll fight not to have to wear a jacket,
and you've fought like hell over a hundred times today
to get a peek down my blouse.
Now you have to fight for yourself,
because if everyone thinks you're bad
the only way to convince them otherwise
is to share how you feel from the heart.
You mean... like O.J. did on that video?
Um...
okay. If you like.
You got it, doc.
(laughter)
Wait. You're all so good at playing me
but what role should I play, huh?
I could be Bernice.
That's right, Duckman.
Then I can undercut your authority,
constantly humiliate you in public,
teach your children to have no respect for you
and devalue your memories of your wife.
Or I could be Charles and Mambo
flaunting the fact I'm smarter than you,
treating you like an idiot because you don't know anything
about quantum split cyclamates-- whatever.
Why should you act like a father when I never act like sons?
I could be Fluffy and Uranus
and force my views on you.
Never respect your right to have your own beliefs.
Or I could be Cornfed,
always reminding you who's the expert.
I'd rather keep subtly blowing my own horn
than teaching you to be a better detective...
or a better friend.
Well, you know what?
I don't want to be any of you.
Dad... if I keep being Ajax
will you please keep being my dad?
You bet I will.
(both sighing)
I think Ajax has taught us something here today.
For better or worse
you're the only family you've got
so make the most of it.
You're right, doctor.
Actually, this experience has been... cleansing.
I feel like you do after a long, hot shower.
I'll take your word for that part
but I do feel better-- thanks, doc.
This is why I got into psychology--
to find complex answers to people's real problems.
Of course, then I found out where the big money was--
making up problems
and giving people easy answers to them.
So I'm going to forget this whole thing happened.
I already have.
Let's go, gang!
(cheering)
* A medicine man I met *
* Said don't get yourself in a sweat *
* When things look gray, just shrug and say *
* "It must've been something I 'et" *
* So don't get yourself in a snit, he said *
* Tuck your tantrums into your kit, he said *
* It's disarming to be charming *
* Quoth the medicine man*
Whom all agree it's plain to see nobody could be wiser than
* So if your temper's getting a top hand *
* All you have to do is just stop and *
* Pass that peace pipe and bury that hatchet *
* Like the Choctaw, Chickasaw Chattahoochee, Chippewa do*
* Yeah, if you're feeling mad as a wet hen *
* Mad as you can possibly get *
* Then pass that peace pipe and bury the tomahawk *
* Like those Chichimecs, Cherokees, Chapultepecs do*
* When you're cranky *
* Try to use a little restraint *
* Fold that hanky *
* And wipe off all that war paint *
* If you want to be an all right guy *
* Not a long-face, blues-in-the-night guy *
* Pass that peace pipe and bury that hatchet *
(percussion solo)
* Soif you want to pow-wow with Duckman *
* Stop your seams from coming unstuck, man *
* Pass that peace pipe and bury that hatchet *
* Write that apology and dispatch it *
* When you part it's grand to patch it *
* Take a chill pill, down-the-hatch it *
* Bet your foe'd be glad to match it *
* Pass that peace pipe and bury that hatchet*
* Like the Chumash, Chickasaws Chattahoochees, Chippewas*
* And those Chichimecs, Cherokees, Chapultepecs*
* And the Chacootamees Chepacheps and Chickapeas*
* Chungchos, Changos Chattanooga, Chicaroles do!*
(applause and cheering)
Duckman, remove your hand.
Heh-heh-heh. Sorry.
* So if you want to pow-wow with Duckman *
* Stop your seams from coming unstuck, man *
* Pass that peace pipe and bury that hatchet *
* Write that apology and dispatch it *
* When you part it's grand to patch it *
* Take a chill pill, down-the-hatch it *
* Bet your foe'd be glad to match it *
* Pass that peace pipe and bury that hatchet*
* Like the Chumash, Chickasaws Chattahoochees, Chippewas*
* And those Chichimecs, Cherokees, Chapultepecs*
* And the Chacootamees Chepacheps and Chickapeas*
* Chungchos, Changos Chattanooga, Chicaroles do!*
(chorus of zany sounds)
(clattering, sloshing)