Mr. Peabody & Sherman 2 Page #4

Spoiler alert,

King Tut dies young.

Are you sure you've

thought this through?

Oh, trust me, I've thought it through.

I'm getting everything.

The royal astronomers

have decreed...

the wedding must take

place tomorrow at dawn.

Who is he?

He is Ay.

He is you?

I am Ay. The Grand Vizier.

Yeah, that's his name.

Oh.

Oh, Grand Vizier, would you mind

telling the precious princess, here...

precisely what it means

to marry the young Pharaoh.

Gladly.

It means she will be bound

to him in eternity...

through the sacred ceremonies

of disembowelment

and mummification...

as described in the holy texts.

Um, hold up a second.

Can you walk me

through that, somebody?

What he means, Penny, is that

when I die they'll kill you, too.

And then they'll rip out your organs,

stuff them in canopic jars...

and then mummify

whatever is left.

Okay, I'm seeing this now.

Thank you.

I'm going to go with them.

There's no turning back now.

To the palace!

Let the wedding

preparations begin!

Mr. Peabody! Sherman!

Do something!

Don't worry, Penny!

We'll save you!

Hey, wait! You can't just...

leave us here.

Mr. Peabody?

Yes, Sherman?

Can I hold your hand?

Of course you can.

Boy, your hand

is cold, Mr. Peabody.

Sherman?

Yeah?

That's not my hand.

That's disarming.

Now, to find a way out of here.

Yuck!

Look around, Sherman.

These tombs are lined

with hieroglyphics...

designed to assist

the pharaohs' souls

in their journey

to the afterlife.

And they may assist us as well.

Oh, this depicts the god Anubis

sailing the boat of Ra

to the underworld.

It appears the boats of Ra

are the key to our escape.

We must find them in time

to stop the wedding.

Well, if you ask me, we should

let her marry that guy.

They deserve each other.

What's that, Sherman?

Tut? Give me a break.

Bald, wears a skirt, and makeup.

If I didn't know any better, Sherman,

I would say you were jealous.

Jealous? Of what?

Tut's affection

for Penny, of course.

You think I like Penny?

Mmm-hmm.

Give me a break!

It's not like I want to hold

her hand, or go to the park...

or watch her while

she's brushing her hair.

Or anything.

Hmm.

A-ha!

Quickly, Sherman.

Ah, ah, ah!

Careful, Sherman.

It's a booby trap.

What's so funny?

You said "booby."

One wrong step

and we're done for.

"The boat...

of Ra sails straight...

to day."

"Take the wrong boat...

man will pay."

All right, Sherman,

now it's your turn.

Do the puzzle exactly as I did.

Huh?

Think it through,

one step at a time.

The boat of Ra sails straight...

play.

Uh, I mean, "pay."

Oh, my.

Uh-oh.

Run!

The boats of Ra!

One boat is the way out,

the other will send us...

plunging into darkness

and certain death.

What?!

Sherman, get in the boat.

As soon as I move these blocks together,

it's going to move very fast.

Which boat, Mr. Peabody?

What?

Which boat is the "not-certain-

death-plunge" boat?

That one!

We did it, Sherman!

Sherman?

Mr. Peabody!

What are you doing over there?

I thought you

pointed to this one!

Ahhh!

Sherman? Sherman?

Are you all right?

I'm good.

The sun god, Ra...

commands us to begin

the sacred ceremony!

Bring forth the blade

for the blood oath.

Where blade meets flesh

in this sacred rite...

we pay tribute...

to the sun god, Ra!

Wait!

Anubis!

The god of death!

The wedding must not continue.

Why, Anubis, why?!

Plagues. Plagues!

If this marriage

pact is sealed...

I will shower down upon the

land uncountable plagues.

Oy, again with the plagues!

Why did I ever move to Egypt?

But, Anubis, the sun

god, Ra, has decreed...

that this girl is to be

the boy-king's wife.

That's so funny.

I was talking to the sun god,

Ra, just the other day...

and he told me

he changed his mind.

Really?!

Old "Flip-Flop Ra," we call

him here in the underworld.

But it's too late. We've

already paid for the catering.

Too bad! You're going

to lose your deposit.

More smoke, Sherman. This

canine subterfuge is working.

Deliver the girl...

to the gates of the city,

and leave her there...

where the gods

will retrieve her forthwith.

Only in this manner may the plagues

upon this land be avoided.

The girl must go!

Ow!

Anubis has spoken!

Take this girl to the gates!

Ow.

Anubis, you sound unwell.

Well, I have been feeling

a little under the weather...

but I'm feeling much better now.

Thank you.

Phew! Huh?

Penny, Sherman, quickly.

Come on, Penny.

Sherman!

Ah!

Runaway bride!

Stop them, you fools!

Ah!

Penny, Sherman, climb aboard.

Whoo-hoo!

They're getting away!

Ah!

Whoa!

I got it.

Whoo-hoo! We made it.

Where do we go next, Mr.

Peabody? Home.

We've got to get back

to the dinner party...

before Penny's parents

realize she's missing.

We don't have to

mention the whole...

uh, King Tut

wedding thing, right?

Certainly not.

Anyway, as far as I'm concerned,

they get married too

young in Ancient Egypt.

Or, perhaps,

I'm just some old "Giza."

Huh?

Warning.

WABAC power supply insufficient.

Charge now. Warning.

Uh, what's the matter,

Mr. Peabody?

All this zipping about the cosmos

has drained our power supply.

We're going to have to

make an unscheduled stop.

As luck would have it...

we have just enough power to

make it to the Renaissance.

I can't even tell my

left brain from my right anymore!

How many times I got to

tell you, Mona Lisa?

Mona Lisa?

I can't paint the picture...

until you smile!

Leonardo, tell me one thing

I have to smile about.

The sunshine, the pasta.

All the things that make Italy such

a popular tourist destination!

But I have not seen any

of them, Leonardo!

Because I'm sitting here

all day on my abbondanza!

I don't think that means

"chair" in Italian.

Ah, Peabody, my old friend.

What a welcome interruption!

Believe you me, this

woman is making me nuts.

So, how you been?

Good to see you.

What do you want?

We're in a desperate

hurry to get home,

but the WABAC

needs a jump start...

and we thought, who better than

Leonardo da Vinci to

help us on our way?

Peabody,

I would love to help you,

but you come at a very bad time.

I don't know what I'm going

to do with this crazy woman.

You see what I mean?

What seems to be the problem?

"What is the problem?"

I am halfway done with the

painting, she won't even smile.

Fine. I smile.

No! That's a fake smile!

Everybody knows that!

Why don't you

make it a real smile?

Why don't you say

something funny?

I paint the paintings.

I make the machines.

I don't tell the jokes!

Perhaps, I can be

of assistance. You see...

humor is not immune

to the laws of science.

Using algorithms,

we can extrapolate

what is universally

considered "funny"...

thus producing a formula that is

scientifically

certain to cause laughter.

Case in point, the pratfall.

Is everyone amused?

Hmm.

The data

was so clear. Ooh!

Don't worry, Mr. Peabody.

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