Coneheads Page #2

- Maybe I should give up.

- No.

- Sure. Be like everybody else.

- It's not you.

- Let the country be overrun.

- You wouldn't be happy.

That's why I have

to give it everything. 100 percent.

- Everyone thinks it's crazy.

- And obsessive.

- That I'm a mental case.

- Completely insane.

I have something for you.

That deceased SSI number

you flagged.

De Cicco's back. That's

the tenth job he's taken this month.

Not bad for a guy who was shot dead

in a clam bar in Sheepshead Bay.

Now Mr De Cicco is working

as an appliance repairman.

Let's see. Donald De Ciccos

one through five turned out to be

a Samoan, a Vietnamese,

a Sicilian, a Canadian...

- And a Belgian.

- He skipped back to Belgium.

I lost him, Eli. This one I want.

Dr Rudolph,

this is Mr De Cicco. He wants

his teeth capped. All of them.

OK. We'll just take a look.

Hello, Mr De Sicko.

De Cicco. The name is De Cicco.

I'm Dr Rudolph. Can we send

for your regular dental records?

When I was young,

I chipped a tooth horn

on my rocket sled in a vurl storm.

But there were no records

which we could send

from where... we come from.

Alright.

Now, I understand

you want to have your teeth capped.

- Correct.

- Let's just take a look.

And open, please.

And close, please.

And open, please.

OK, we'll start the caps

right about here, Mr De Fasco.

De Cicco.

And open wider,

if you can.

- Headrest comfortable?

- Fine.

Alright. I'm going to give you

some nitrous oxide.

If you feel any pain, let me know.

And breathe.

Beldar!

Mebs!

Human authority figures!

We must egress immediately.

They are at the portal.

We are scrabnord!

INS! Open up!

Go round the back.

There they go!

Egress!

Turnbull!

OK. No foreign passports,

letters, newspapers.

Nothing to indicate

their country of origin,

except these Mardi Gras suits.

Let me see. Maybe they're Brazilian.

Sir?

It'd be better

if that went through me.

He's not in a good mood. Thanks.

I think I found something, sir.

That symbol also appears

on this card.

Let me see that.

- Possibly Korean.

- Possibly.

- Have this text analysed.

- OK. Run this.

Look at this filth. It's filthy.

Human beings don't live like this.

- Find out where they're from.

- On it.

Because wherever that is...

...I'm seeing to it

that they go back there.

LaGuardia Airport. Delta terminal.

Do you wish I take the BQE,

the Van Wyck,

or Woodhaven Boulevard

to Grand Central Parkway?

There are more lights

but less traffic.

- Whatever. Just get there.

- Woodhaven.

345, drop-off, LaGuardia.

- Greetings.

- Greetings, my geneto-mate.

How was your day

ferrying humans across the grid?

Acceptable.

Tips could have been better.

The impending Cone

prepares for its emergence.

It's Khoudri. Welcome,

my employer and landlord.

Forgive my intrusion. Ravi is sick.

Can you work the midnight shift?

- Use my car.

- Certainly.

But it will be the last triple shift.

The birth spasm is near.

Beldar, once again

you have pulled me from the fire.

Yes.

You worked through

your slar phase again.

Guz deprivation is not good.

But this dwelling

is no longer acceptable.

Even by earth standards

it is not good enough.

We must move to a safer

neighbourhood with better schools

and a stronger economic matrix

which will not tax us to death.

We are no better off

than we were two zerls ago.

This dwelling is available

at $6,900 down

with a nine percent

fixed-rate mortgage.

Our currency stock is insufficient.

Incorrect. You have been working.

I have been saving.

Ah, I praise you, earthwoman.

My pluvarb has broken.

The birth spasm has begun.

Nothing to this. Childbirth

is a gentle act of nature.

We'll get plenty of good pictures.

I hate you, Beldar. I hate you!

Two, three...

Swab.

- Breathe easy.

- One good push.

It's so cute!

Would you like to cut

the umbilical cord, Mr Conehead?

No. No hair. Bring the top

of the head up higher.

No, higher, like a point.

We have the analysis from the labs

on the card found at the dwelling.

No known language within the foreign

catalogue nationality encodes.

You're not listening to me.

Look, here. See where my hand is?

That high. What else?

The Mardi Gras costumes

contain fibres

with five unknown polymer strands.

Nothing like it anywhere.

What are they saying?

They're from another planet?

That theory has been advanced.

This is big. This is really big.

Aren't creatures from another planet

Air Force responsibility?

If they're just visiting, sure.

But the moment they try

to work here, they're mine.

- Any sign?

- No, sir. Nothing yet.

Wait.

- Subject vehicle coming your way.

- Copy. I have him in sight.

- Go?

- No.

- Go?

- No.

- Now?

- Go!

Freeze!

This isn't him! What's going on here?

- Look.

- Where'd you get this key chain?

It's a gift, from one of

the finest men I've ever known.

- Where is he now?

- He moved out a week ago.

I have no word from him.

I only wish I had more drivers

like him.

Diligent, punctual,

his cab invariably sweet smelling.

- Take him in and check him out.

- Check him.

Find this insignia,

find these illegals.

Hi, there. I'll take that. Thank you.

Sir, good news from Washington.

Your promotion came through.

They must've loved

your electrified-border idea.

On-site Field Enforcement Head

for the entire Southwest.

Assistant Deputy Commissioner.

That should pay quite a bit more.

It's an extra 1,500 a year.

Of course I'll take it.

Question. About this De Cicco case.

We've invested so many man hours.

Who cares?

Let the next guy handle it.

Morning consumption

of mass quantities.

Grid-like breakfast slabs,

seared strips of swine flesh

and flat chicken embryos.

I will enjoy it.

A seven-letter word for a tomb

in ancient Egypt

which has smooth,

sloping sides meeting in an apex?

A flindar.

- Good morning, parental units.

- Dawn greetings.

What would you like?

Pop Tarts? Chicken embryos?

Ground animal flesh?

I'm not hungry. Just some Tang.

Tang. The drink

the astronauts took to the moon.

Astronauts to the moon.

Your putter has arrived.

My Hawk True Flex Power Point

with graphite shaft.

A secret of golf pros everywhere.

A truly manly putter.

- What have you done to your cone?

- Nothing.

No? Turn around.

- It's not a real tattoo.

- Mebs! Unacceptable!

Everyone's wearing decals.

If everyone jumped into

a cauldron, would you?

I am not a little Cone now.

Maintain low tones with me. Go to

the hygienic chamber and remove it.

Also, you have

too much lip enhancement.

Mom! My make-up looks OK, doesn't it?

Do not involve the approval

of your other parental unit.

If you wish to go

to the retail compound,

make the necessary corrections

and remove the decal.

Fine.

She looked like a common flathrag

on payday.

I don't know what went wrong

with these roses.

Maybe I need a gardener.

Sweetie, I'm not gonna pay some guy

to dig in the dirt.

I told you to take that thing to

a professional. You'll save money.

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