-Wee! -It's a set-up!
This is your uncle Luther.
Spaceboy!
Yeah, yeah. Spaceboy.
This place looks nice.
Alright, when dad gets here, I'll do the talking, ok?
I've got a few questions for him myself.
We don't wanna scare him off, alright?
He might be able to help us stop doomsday.
Get us home.
I heard a rumour.
You punched yourself in the face.
What?
You look like Antonio Banderas
with long hair.
I just thought you should know.
Thanks, man.
Stage one: denial.
Two: itching.
Three: extreme thirst and urination.
Four: excessive gas.
Five: acute paranoia.
Six: uncontrolled perspiration.
And seven:
homicidal rage.
I don't tattoo children.
Swell. I'm not here for the ink.
I'm here because you and I have a mutual friend.
Shit!
I really like the hair.
It's a number ten.
-Yeah, it's a good choice. -Yeah.
Really…
frames your face.
Oh, Hotel Obsidian,
I've missed you, you slutty old dame.
Absorb her.
Absorb her into your bosom.
You know, 'cause, back in her heyday,
she played host to world leaders.
-I know you. -Of course you do.
I'm your mother.
Course.
Is that menudo?
Yes.
Good stuff!
This better be pepperoni.
Dude, your chin.
Does that sometimes.
Oh, yeah.
We're…
playing a game.
What's it called?
Guy in a carpet.
I hope you win.
Oh, the kid doesn't have time to get
a slushy and a Slim Jim?
Ok, well,
you might say we were…
dancing on the ceiling.
Oh, that one's going in!
Hey.
Here we go!