Welcome, everyone.
Tonight we unveil the latest work by the remarkable artist Gleeko.
Evening, pigs.
I give you Birthright by Gleeko.
[ Applause ]
The bidding will start at $10,000.
$10,000.
It's a new high.
Going once.
Going twice.
[ Door opens, gunshots ]
I'd like to place a bid -- on everyone's money and jewels.
Your money -- now.
Turn around.
I said, "about face."
I'm sorry.
What about my face?
You mean... this face?
How about this face?
Argh!
[ Thud ]
Brett: Oh, nice move, Chris.
Say, can I borrow that face?
'Cause there ain't no way they're serving this face at
Gordy's pizza anymore -- not after what I pulled.
Susie: You know the rules.
His family gets seven days to claim it.
Marshal Chris Monsanto.
I didn't know you were an art fan.
Chris: Hey, pal, the only art I give a [Bleep] about is in the
Garfunkel style, as in art Garfunkel.
Enough!
[ Gunshot ]
Chris: Well, nice kick.
And now let's see how you do making love.
Know what I always say?
I always say every criminal deserves one final meal.
Let's see what yours was.
Ugh. Vegetable lasagna.
Blech! What a girl.
All right, freakos, coming through.
$55,000.
Chris: What are these phony jabronies doing?
$60,000.
Susie: They think that splatter you made is art.
Hey... $65,000.
...pigs? Uh, jackals?
$70,000.
Gleeko...over here.
$80,000.
Susie: The art world loves you, Chris.
Brett: You're gonna be rich, buddy.
[ Ka-ching! ]
Wow!
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com
[ Siren wails ]
Chris: Errahhhh! Ugh!
Oh!
There we go.
Try not to do any heavy looking for a few days.
Chris: Oh-ho.
That was really painful.
And I haven't gotten your bill yet.
[ Laughs ]
Uh, seriously, how much is this gonna cost me, doc?
Oh, not too much.
[ Ka-ching! ]
Wow!
Oh [Bleep] nurse!
Susie: Congratulations, Chris.
The gallery bust got a great write-up in the art section.
Brett: [ Chuckles ]
Art section?
They should call that "the funnies" on account of what a joke it is.
And they should call the funnies "the obituaries" because no one
slays me more than Ziggy, Hagar, and the rest of the gang.
And they should call real estate "sports."
Chris: Brett, why don't you run down to the morgue and find yourself a drawer?
Susie: I can't believe those people think you're some kind of artist now.
Chris: I know.
Stupid, isn't it?
Susie: Who are you gonna donate the money to?
I'm working with this great organization that gives fat
suits to starving people to boost their self-esteem.
Chris: Yeah, if I gave this money to charity, I'd just look
like I'm Melinda gates with a better tit job.
No, I think Chris Monsanto’s probably just gonna shove this
money away in an old jock strap and forget about it, huh?
Marshals, come in.
We've got a 617 at the corner of Rutledge and Millbury.
Susie: 617.
That's the attempted rape of the governor.
Let's move.
Brett: So, then I started hiding out in the garbage can
behind Gordy's every night with the hopes that he would toss out
some old pizza right into my pizza hole.
Turns out Gordy was using said garbage can to do you-know-what
with a half-eaten calzone.
I mean, I guess he was working out his pizza demons, if you know what I mean.
Chris: Hey, there's our guy.
Freeze!
I ain't going back to the joint.
You're gonna have to kill me, Monsanto.
Chris: Uh...not quite yet.
Over there. Over there.
Okay.
Chris: Mm...No. Keep moving.
Okay.
Chris: Yes. Right...there.
Okay.
[ Thud ]
Chris: I guess I'm a genius after all, huh?
Susie: Chris, you didn't have to shoot him.
Chris: Honey, it's called "street art," okay?
It's very hot, very happening, very now.
Kesi, hi.
Yes, it's Chris Monsanto.
Listen, I have a new piece, and it's called spined over splatter.
Yes, it's my most personal work to date.
♪ She's got the look ♪
♪ she lives the life ♪
♪ she turns it on ♪
♪ she does it right ♪
♪ right, right ♪
♪ oh, yeah ♪
♪ she's doing it ♪
Monsanto is the artist of our time.
My favorite piece -- man shot after lunch.
There's little bits of food in it, so it seems really authentic.
Monsanto is the artist of our time.
He allows us to look inside ourselves... By looking at the inside of us.
Monsanto is the artist of our time.
Chris: How are you?
Good.
Chris?
Chris: Yeah.
Chris, will you do my dress?
Chris: Uh, okay.
Sorry, pal.
I can't disappoint the fans.
Wait, wait. No!
[ Gunshot ]
[ Thud ]
I'm wearing a Monsanto.
Then you will need to check it again.
It's "Gleeko," g-l-e-e-k-- You're not on the list.
I-I... this one's good.
Let her through.
Hey! Kesi!
Why haven't you returned my calls, honey?
I finished some great new garbage.
God, Gleeko.
You bore me.
The best thing you can do for your career right now is die.
Kesi! Wait!
You heard her, pal.
Go. Die... if you know what's good for you.
[ Mid-tempo music plays ]
[ Telephone rings ]
[ Crunches ]
Susie: You wanted to see this sexual predator before we process him?
Chris: Yes, I do -- right over there.
[ Clears throat ]
All right.
Let's take a look here.
Uh, okay.
Let's do one in the neck and one in the large intestine.
[ Gun cocks ]
Brett: Spray cheese.
[ Gunshot, thud ]
Susie: Uh!
Chris: Okay, good.
Get that over to Kesi and tell her it's called, uh,
with six you get egg roll or three cheers for puddin' pops.
I don't give a [Bleep]
Susie: You don't even do your own work anymore?
Chris: Susan, the mere fact that I'm in the room when it
happens means it's graced by my gift.
Marshals, come in.
There's been a massacre at the new image art gallery.
Susie: A massacre.
Let's shake a leg.
What?
Chris: I can't do it.
You know, that place shows the most dreadful landscapes.
Really -- just mothball stuff.
Can't do it.
I will. Okay.
Susie: Well, what do we have here?
The savage depiction of the plight of illegal immigrants.
Susie: Mm. Powerful stuff.
[ Saw whirrs ]
Hey, hey, hey.
What are you doing?
This is a crime scene.
Sweetheart, this is a Gleeko.
Chris: Gleeko?
Look who it is -- yesterday's news.
Or should we say, "yawn-sterday's snooze"?
It's all about Gleeko now.
Brett: I bet he could get one of those coveted non-sticky
booths at Gordy's, no problem.
Well, that goes without saying.
Susie: He killed four innocent men.
Chris: Yeah, and he ripped me off, too.
Okay, Gleeko.
You're gonna get the chair for this -- and 10 to 20 for the dead Mexicans, too.
Well done, Gleeko.
You are the new king of splatter art.
Sorry I told you to die.
No hard feelings.
Feelings?
Sweetheart, Gleeko has no feelings, especially when he's back on top.
[ Laughs ]
Chris: Gleeko!
Monsanto.
Came to see a real artist at work, huh?
Chris: Actually, no.
I've come to paint mixed media -- brains and guts.
Murder him!
Chris: [ Grunts ]
[ Guns cocks ]
Okay.
This'll be my finest work of art yet.
Octavio! Gary!
Let's put the "goo" in "guggenheim."
[ Thud ]
Ah, what the [Bleep]
Chris: Ah. Oh.
Hey, looks like you sold out.
You're doing advertisements?
What?
This is not good, Gleeko -- not...good.
I'm not some commercial whore.
Chris: You're gonna be rich -- rich beyond your wildest dreams.
No.
Chris: You're gonna be eating caviar out of gold-toe socks.
No.
Chris: Yeah.
No! My facade of integrity!
[ Ka-ching-ching-ching-ching! ]
Aaaaaah!
[ Thud ]
Ooooh!
Chris: Well, you know what they say -- live fat, die old,
and leave a weird-looking corpse.
Yech.
Brett: Oh.
Susie: I know. It's sad.
Brett: No, that's not it.
Looking at this pile of goop on the floor makes me think of a Gordy's supreme.
Guess I won't be having that anymore.
Gordy's?
Yes, Gleeko had just ordered some.
I guess we'll have to toss the rest.
Brett: Gordy's?
Follow me.
[ Slow chamber music playing ]
Uh!
It was a thing of beauty -- performance art like I'd never seen.
An idiot in a trash can, agape, begging the world for its garbage.
[ Music continues ]
He was a true genius... Brett: [ Belches ]
...and I was in love.
[ Ka-ching! ]
Wow!
♪ I know she's a goddess ♪
♪ she's looking obscene ♪
♪ this girl is the hottest ♪
♪ that you've ever seen ♪
♪ when she gets close ♪
♪ you want to feel ♪
♪ is she fantasy, or is she re-e-e-al? ♪
♪ is she really real? ♪
Sync & corrections by honeybunny www.addic7ed.com