GOON: If it weren't Turtle what done

it, who was it, then?

FRANKY: It was McFadden.

You could tell by his wangdoodle.

GOON: What the hell is this?

VAMPIRE: My vampire clan and I decided to spend this lovely

afternoon playing an exhilarating game of baseball.

FRANKY: What?

GOON: I don't know even where to begin.

So I think I'll just start punching the lot of you.

VAMPIRE: Hold!

Think not that we are powerless.

Let's give it to them, fellas.

Sparkle!

GOON: You've got to be [BLEEP]

[BLEEP]

me.

Give me that bat, you fruity [BLEEP].

NARRATOR: And Goon did lay upon them a mighty beating

that was heralded through the ages for its

ferocity and magnitude.

Henceforth, that day was known as St. McClubbin's Day, when

the people, after consuming large quantities of cake and

beer, would take to the streets with stone and brick

to smash the faces of those deemed too pretty and too

stupid for their own good.

GOON: Look, people, I know you probably want 22 pages of me

making smart-ass remarks about sparkly vampires and beating

the snot out them, but it's too easy.

VAMPIRE: How could you?

Look at these abs!

[CRACK]

GOON: Frankly, basting these sissies in the chops is a

waste of my freaking time.

I could get a more rewarding fight out of that granny.

GRANNY: Oh, I'm way more man than those twinkly [BLEEP].

[MUSIC - DELIBES, LAST NOTES OF "THE

FLOWER DUET" FROM "LAKME"]

GOON: But what we are gonna do is spend this issue getting to

the real root of the problem.

FRANKY: That's right.

Evil like this wouldn't exist if it wasn't for one thing--

tween girls.

POLICE OFFICER: We got a kid here to drop off.

MCGREG: Another sow to feed.

Worthless animals.

POLICE OFFICER: Uh, yeah.

Just sign the paper.

POLICE OFFICER: Should we have warned her?

POLICE OFFICER: Ain't our problem now, and

thank Christ for that.

CHARLOTTE: I always wanted another girl to play with.

You boys smell like a boot, and you got no class.

[HOCKS A LOOGIE]

PEEWEE: Hey.

CHARLOTTE: What's your name?

Hey, kid.

I said, what's your name?

SMITTY: What's them poles doing tied around your neck?

DOG: She must got the rabies.

MCGREG: You mules get to bed, or I'll burn

you with the poker.

SPECS: Let's poison Old Lady McGreg again tomorrow.

I'm tired of that poker.

PEEWEE: That kid is creeping me out.

SMITTY: She's the devil!

[SCREAMING]

DOG: I might got but one leg, but I'm still a werewolf.

SMITTY: Get her!

CHARLOTTE: We was gonna be friends, you weirdo!

[WAILING]

DOG: She done slithered down that hole in the floor.

SMITTY: OK, Dog, you sit on that bucket while the rest of

us get some shuteye.

[SNORING]

DOG: This ain't no good for me at all.

PEEWEE: Ah, she's back!

Why didn't you stay on the bucket?

DOG: I was hungry, and I had to go toilet.

PEEWEE: You had a bucket.

SMITTY: Well, McGreg ain't gonna do nothing about this.

PEEWEE: Yeah, she'd like it if we got eaten.

SMITTY: Best we should tell the Goon.

SPORTS ANNOUNCER: Canners flagged

for unnecessary roughness.

GOON: Aw, come on, ref.

That was just a little eye gouge.

SMITTY: Hey, Goon, there's a man-eating girl living in a

hole in our floor.

SPORTS ANNOUNCER: Chipmunks now have the ball on the 34.

GOON: Quiet, kid.

I'm watching the game.

SMITTY: But she's a man-eater, and Dog can't stay on that

bucket forever.

GOON: Hush, kid.

SPORTS ANNOUNCER: He goes back to pass.

Intercepted!

The Canners win!

DRUNK: Hey, I won?

FAN: Holy [BLEEP].

The Canners won a game.

GOON: The Canners won a game!

Drinks are on me.

CHARLOTTE: Great.

They'll be here all night.

SMITTY: Don't worry.

I'll handle this.

SMITTY: Norton, give me 52 shots of your finest gutrot,

on the Goon.

NORTON: Sure thing, kid.

[MUSIC - TRIUMPHANT BRASSY CHORD]

SMITTY: There you go, Goon.

Drink up.

GOON: And I says--

I says, hey, that's not a football.

That's a ham.

And he says, it's a ham.

So I broke both his legs and pooped in his hat.

The end.

SMITTY: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

That's a great story, Goon.

Now you gotta come home with us.

GOON: You got spaghetti there?

SMITTY: Tons.

GOON: OK, then.

CHARLOTTE: He's plastered out of his gourd.

What good is he gonna be to us?

SMITTY: Hey, a drunk Goon is better than no Goon at all.

[SLAM]

SMITTY: Right this way.

GOON: I like this place.

It's shabby.

You kids don't put on airs.

MCGREG: What are you swine doing coming

in here after curfew?

And who's that?

GOON: Hey, gorilla.

Where's this spaghetti I've heard so much about?

SMITTY: She ate all the spaghetti, Goon.

GOON: Stupid, greedy, spaghetti-eating gorilla!

SPECS: I think he's killed her.

PEEWEE: Bonus.

CHARLOTTE: You were right, Smitty.

Drunk Goon is better.

[CREAK]

SMITTY: OK, Goon, get her!

GOON: Get what?

Oh.

Hi, kid.

Seen any spaghetti about this place?

[WAILING]

[GRUNTING]

GOON: She's eating me.

I'm going home.

You kids are little--

you ripped my vintage Fish Canners jersey.

[CRASH]

[WAILING]

[INTENSE SCREECH

SPECS: Gah, what's that noise?

CHARLOTTE: It's as if a gang of prepubescent boys with no

testicles were singing in harmony.

SMITTY: Yes, it is like some sort of unholy crime from a

band made up of boys, or a boy band, with tiny, prepubescent

soul patches on their chins.

DOG: Ah, the sound alone is making my testes smaller.

[WHIMPERING]

CHARLOTTE: Wow, she just fizzled up.

MAN: I heard tell that only hallowed ground could put an

end to evil of that sort.

That, and college.

GOON: I'm gonna get a meatball sub and vomit.

MCGREG: Godforsaken kids!

Get in here and go to bed, or I'll burn the soles off your

feet with a cigar!

SMITTY: Eh, crap.

She ain't dead.

PEEWEE: Guess you can't win them all.

[PIANO MUSIC]

MALE SPEAKER: It's a phrase I've

learned on 1,000 TV shows.

Is there a problem, officer?

Don't see me as I am, don't see me as I am.