Coneheads Page #5

I'm different from other girls.

I know. That's why I love you.

She left because something

has corrupted her judgement.

When we get back to Remulak,

I am grounding her for a zerl!

Senso-rings?

Where did you get those?

Under your bed.

Unacceptable!

Your cone is too young!

Get up! You're coming

to Remulak now!

I am staying with Ronnie!

Maintain low tones. Impossible.

Undesirable. Inadvisable.

Then I'm coming with you.

I love you.

Mebs! Human authority figures.

We must egress immediately.

It's over, Conehead. This is the INS.

Come out with your hands up.

You're under arrest.

They're going for it!

- Cover him.

- Hold it right there!

- It's the boyfriend.

- It's the boyfriend.

Daddy!

Nice manoeuvre,

but it's all over.

I think

that is the Jehovah's Witness.

Let's cover him.

Hold on, everybody.

I love you, Ronnie!

I love you!

Back in the car, a**hole.

Gorman, let go!

I'm scared!

You're not getting away this time.

You're surrounded.

Put the car down!

This is the Captain.

Get into the formplat. We will

initiate mentaglion surge

once we go past the only moon

on this planet.

No problem. We have successfully

passed their moon

and are preparing now

for mentaglion surge.

Remulak!

Vlenglariat pla, Highmaster.

I know every Cone is allowed

but four uses of the Bitumius

pleasure spool, and I partook six.

I realise the error of these actions.

They will never be repeated.

I throw myself at your mertex.

Fairnob, smerthail.

Smordit.

I realise the pleasure spools

are a difficult temptation to resist.

Therefore, you will

knarftle the garthok!

No!

Fuel Survey Underlord Beldar

Florhone, and Marlax Zehemsto,

from Protoid Fuel Administration.

Beldar, survivor

of the wilderness planet.

What do you bring me

from the conquered worldlet?

Greetings, Revered One.

I present the gift of two

living native beings from the planet.

Do what you want to me, but I won't

apologise for doing my job.

The USA cannot solve the

employment problems of the universe.

Silence the slave!

Delightful. They will make

a fitting sacrifice to Krathnor.

What else did you bring me?

A multitude of gifts

from the blunt skulls.

A tyre iron with four-way lug wrench.

An owner's manual

for a Ford Lincoln Mercury Sable.

Ford Lincoln Mercury Sable?

A personal conveyance,

named for its inventor,

a mythical character,

and a small mammal.

And a dashboard icon.

- Is this all?

- Certainly not.

Some... chewing gum.

I am sporfed. More than sporfed.

Flarged by this!

Come close.

Close.

What have you done

to your face portal?

Your trelgs!

Beldar lived among

the blunt heads so long,

he had to adapt to survive.

He offered his trelgs.

It is known as dental bonding.

I do not care

what the blunt skulls call it.

- Here, it is known as treason.

- Treason?

It is at my discretion to settle

things in the ancient ways.

Therefore

you will knarftle the garthok!

I am no traitor!

What's a garthok?

Every zerl since the ancient times,

when the three moons align,

the light causes a garthok to emerge.

So, what's a garthok?

Our seats used to be way up

in the back. These are much better.

That is a garthok?

You can really see it from this

vantage. These are very good seats.

It is time.

I am Lagtar, disgraced guardsman,

prepared to fight for my honour.

These are great seats.

I have learnt much from watching

the garthok battle.

It has weaknesses. When my turn

comes, I believe I can take him.

And let me know

when Elvis gets here.

You're next.

This is a first for me.

- You are next.

- No, he is next.

- No. He said you are next.

- He is next.

You were ahead of me in court.

That was then. This is now.

No, guard, no!

You are next.

Daddy!

- It's a song.

- Big hit on earth.

Mebs.

The day is yours, Beldar.

You have knarftled the garthok.

Therefore, a request may be granted.

- I have such a request.

- Speak freely.

That I be permitted

to return to earth.

And, upon my return,

I will conquer the planet earth

and enslave the blunt skulls

in the name of my Cone heritage.

Request granted.

I wish to take

the earth slaves with me.

Narg! You may only take one slave.

Then I take Seedling,

the one with higher office.

- Thank you.

- So be it!

Let it be written...

Are you writing this?

...that Beldar shall return

to the humo-carb planet,

to conquer the blunt skulls!

This is my festival.

Yet I speak and they do not hear.

No one listens.

They do not realise

the difficulties of my office.

Power is not easy.

I sit in judgement and rule.

That is all there is for me.

- You have no interior life.

- Highmaster.

Why don't you let me take care

of that? He's having a tough day.

Omglath.

Krathnor. Attention

all battle-unit commanders.

Entering outer atmospheres

of target planet.

Hold your global-ranging positions.

Array mesoton cannon.

Stand ready for my attack order.

The starfleet has entered

the earth's atmosphere.

They've entered

the earth's atmosphere.

- The moment of glory is upon us.

- Really big day for you, sir.

Arm cannon. Verify global targets.

Hold weapons release until my order.

Warning! Danger to battlefleet.

Enemy laser gun

in satellites detected.

Proceed to secondary target.

Lorbsleb. Warning!

Danger to battlefleet!

- Lorbsleb!

- Lorbsleb!

Quickly, my family. Run!

Your happiness

and positive perception of me

is vital to my existence.

Besides, it is not every day

a father

can give the world to his child.

I love you, Daddy.

Beldar's life functions have ceased.

The earth weapons have silenced him.

He died bravely in battle.

No death is more glorious.

He will be missed.

- He will walk with the chosen.

- Super guy.

I make this proposal to you. Your

life in exchange for a green card.

Agreed, if you demonstrate a job

skill that no US citizen possesses.

That is no challenge to me.

- I have no objection.

- Good. Move.

Good evening, Mr Conehead.

Mrs Conehead.

Good evening, Ronnie.

Welcome. Enter.

You look handsome yet uncomfortable

in your pubescent ceremonial garb.

- Yeah. You mean my tux?

- Correct.

Connie is doing her beautification

ritual. I will summon her.

Ronnie, may I have 55 words with you?

The statistics of young earthlings

mangling themselves in cars

on prom night

makes me insist

on maximum safety awareness.

Return at the predesignated

time coordinates, and take my car.

Its reinforced alloy superstructure

is far superior

to that of your rusted-out sh*t box.

Gee, thanks, Mr Conehead.

Hi, Ronnie. Hi, Daddy.

- This is for you.

- Thanks.

Present yourselves

for image emulsification.

Say "lactate extract

of hoofed mammals".

Cheese!

Excellent.

Goodnight, Mr and Mrs Conehead.

- Goodnight.

- Goodnight.

Night.

- Ah, memories!

- We will enjoy them.

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