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The Pinky POV[]

Pinky: Too-ra-la la-la la-la-la la la-la la-la...

Brain: Pinky, will you stop that?

Pinky: Narf! Of course, Brain. Eventually I'll have to stop it. I mean, I'll have to sleep, eat, and go to the bath--

Brain: I meant, will you stop that now?

Pinky: La-la-la-la-- (crash) Oh, I guess I will. (Laughs)

Brain: I need your help, Pinky.

Pinky: You do, Brain? Narf! I'm touched.

Brain: Yes, Pinky. Now hold these high-tension wires, and remember not to put the two ends together, because if you do, blah blah blah blah blah, big word, blabbedy blah blah blah...

Pinky: Ooh! It's so sparkly.

Brain: Pinky, are you paying attention?

Pinky: I'm hanging on your every word, Brain, except the part about these two wire thingies.

Brain: Give me those.

Pinky: Here, Brain.

Brain: (Gets electrocuted) Yah!

Pinky: Brain? Brain? Yoo-hoo! Where is he? Ah! He really should clean up after himself. Oh, well. (Hums as he sweeps the dust, and walks over to the trash can and admires himself) Zort! (Dumps the dust in the trash can)

Brain: Pinky? Open the trash can. (Pinky does so) Thank you.

Pinky: Brain, that was amazing! How did you do it?

Brain: I was helped by a moronic blabbedy big word blah blah real big word something or other blah.

Pinky: Well, that was nice of him. You know, it's hard to find a friendly, um, what you said.

Brain: Not hard enough. (Hits Pinky with a pencil)

Pinky: Uhh! (Falls over) Unh! All fall down. Ha ha ha! Narf. (Hums as he trims his toenails) Ha ha ha ha! (Wiggles his toes)

Brain: There. I'm almost ready to implement my latest plan.

Pinky: Latest plan for what, Brain?

Brain: What have I been doing every night since you've known me?

Pinky: Um... snoring and making a funny whistling sound through your nose?

Brain: No. Planning to take over the-- I snore?

Pinky: Poit! That's a lovely wallpaper pattern, Brain.

Brain: This, Pinky, is my latest plan for world domination.

Pinky: Narf. Poit! Oh, I get it. Tic-tac-toe! I win, Brain!

Brain: No, Pinky. This is no simple child's game. It's the formula for-- Wait. x3/Ω. That's it! Brilliant, Pinky!

Pinky: Now let's play pin the tail on the--

Brain: Don't overdo a good thing, Pinky. With this formula perfected, I will be able to attach the electrodes to the blah blah blah blah...

Pinky: Look at Brain. He really does have a large Brain.

Brain: All we have to do is blah blah blah...

Pinky: Maybe that's why he has such a large head.

Brain: We'll sneak past the guards...

Pinky: Hippopotamuses have large heads. It must be very difficult for them to buy party hats, not to mention their, erm, narf! Unmentionables. And I can't even begin to imagine what a large pachyderm would wear at the beach. Zort! Well, perhaps I can. Bravo, Brain! I always knew you were going to be big someday.

Brain: Be big? Hmm. Pinky, are you pondering what I'm pondering?

Pinky: I think so, Brain, but what if the hippopotamus won't wear the beach thong?

Brain: A mystery worthy of Elsa Klensch, Pinky. Unfortunately, there's no time to unravel it, for we are off to the sunny climes of Seattle, Washington.

Pinky: Okay. I'll pack my beach thong.

(The scene cuts to the two mice in Seattle, Washington.)

Pinky: There, Brain. I thought I saw the sun for just a moment.

Brain: No, Pinky. That was merely a yellowish cloud. Apparently, there is no sun in Seattle, only depressing grunge.

Pinky: Narf! It's enough to make you want to spend your time in a garage, thrashing away on a large electronic instrument while consuming mass quantities of caffeine.

Brain: Yes, Pinky. That's it. We will disguise ourselves as grunge-rock musicians, take the elevator up to the top of the Space Needle, and plug our amplifiers into the lightning rod.

Pinky: Well, why would we want to do that?

Brain: The plan, Pinky. Always the plan.

Pinky: Oh, right, the plan! What was it again?

Brain: All right. I'll tell you one more time. Step one: we-- watch out for that puddle.

Pinky: What puddle, Brain? Whah! (Falls in the puddle)

Brain: (Pulls Pinky out) That puddle, Pinky.

Pinky: Narf! I thought so. It's a stunning ensemble, don't you think, Brain?

Brain: I told you before. Call me "man," and I shall call you "dude."

Pinky: Right, Brain. Erm, I mean, man. But are you sure that's how grunge rockers talk?

Brain: I'm not even sure if they talk.

What do you two want?

Brain: We are the groovy rock-and-roll combo Frog the Dry Widget. We are putting on a hootenanny in the Space Needle. Dude?

Pinky: Yes, Brain? I--I mean, man?

Brain: I wasn't rapping with you, dude.

Pinky: Oops. Sorry. Narf!

Cool! I listen to you guys all the time on the oldies station, man. Go right up.

Brain: Pay attention, dude. Now, remember, connect the output blabbedy blah thingy to the input blah, blah, blah, and whatever you do, don't turn the volume down.

Pinky: Why, er, man?

Brain: It's technical. I'll tell you when to hit the switch, and then once everyone's pants have turned to gelatin, the world will be mine!

Pinky: Pants? Narf! I never would have guessed. Erm, does that include culottes?

Brain: Probably.

Pinky: You are brilliant, Brain. I--I mean, dude. Or is it man?

Brain: Chill, Pinky.

And now, here in a surprise appearance, that great garage band, Frog the Dry Widget, man!

Brain: Pinky!

Pinky: What, Brain?! Er, man?! Er, dude?! Wait! I can't hear you! I'll turn down the volume!

Brain: Pinky! No!

(Too late! What follows is an explosion that send the two mice away.)

Both: (Screaming).

Brain: Ohhh... I've failed again, Pinky. I don't know what you see in me.

Pinky: You'd be surprised, Brain.

Brain: Come, Pinky. We must return to the lab and prepare for tomorrow night.

Pinky: Why, Brain? What are we going to do tomorrow night?

Brain: The same thing we do every night, Pinky. Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah!

Chrous: They’re dinky! They’re Pinky and the blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

The Great Dictator[]

Brain Food[]