POTTYHORSE: One-thousand twelve... one-thousand thirteen...
and one-thousand fourteen!
Oh-ho-ho, Heartery,
isn't it terrific that a horse, who's a sheriff and the only toilet in town
can enjoy a quiet night with his best pal;
an adorable pillow who loves mosses.
HEARTERY: Lincolns.
Ha! Yes! I keep making that mistake!
When your time comes...
then you will remember your name.
By the potty on my back!
I've read of this...
but I never thought I would live to see it.
What is it, Pottyhorse?
It's a poopsteroid, Heartery, and it's drawn a bead on our town.
We'll be blasted into a flamin' stinkhole!
(gasps) My Lincolns!
The people must know. Call a town meeting!
Uh...
(whispering) I'm sorry, but I actually really have to go to the bathroom.
Of course!
Climb aboard!
(saddle creaks open)
(Heartery grunts)
Whee! Oof!
(toliet flushes)
POTTYHORSE & HEARTERY: Yee-haw! To the meeting!
(indistinct chatter)
MAYOR MAYNOT: Should we start?
Or should we just call it off and go home?
Probably just go home, right?
Mayor Maynot,
by my calculations, that poopsteroid will be upon us in hours.
Okay, fine!
People of Fiber Gulch!
I called you here to warn you that our town is in mortal danger--
Yeah?
I've gotta... go.
Oh! (chuckles) Of course!
Hop up!
Are you sure? I have to go... a lot.
Trust me, there's nothing my potty cannot handle.
A little privacy, please?
(tinkling and farting)
(squeak! squeak! squeak!)
(Heartery hums nonchalantly)
Now, where were we?
My Lincolns?
Uhhh...right!
A fiery poopsteroid is aiming to blow up this town, and--
HAIR METAL BUFFALO: Hey, man, where's the snacks?
There are snacks in the back.
JACKIE CACTUS: The back? That's too far away!
COFFEE POT NOGGIN: I like the snacks right where they are.
(townsfolk argue indistinctly)
Please! Please! I have a plan!
We take this rope and build a big ol' slingshot!
Then we blast that poopsteroid out of the sky.
SAMMIN' SALMON: Poopsteroid?
Yes. The asteroid in question...
is made entirely of poop.
JACKIE CACTUS: Heh! AS-teroid.
(townsfolk chatter amongst themselves)
Look, I'm just a horse... and a sheriff...and a toilet,
but I know this town and if we work together, there ain't nothing we can't solve.
Are you with me?
VICTORIAN LADY: What do you think?
(townsfolk argue indistinctly)
We might have to solve this ourselves, together.
Are you asking me on a date?
First, the poopsteroid!
Oh, okay!
(fanfare plays)
MOM: Oh, this looks nice.
Many thanks. My plan is to redirect the--
Can my kid play on your slide?
It's a chute, actually.
Oh! Okay, so that's how you wanna play it.
Although...
With the proper safety features, it could be converted--
I mean, after the poopsteroid is dispatched, of course!
HAIR METAL BUFFALO: A-ha-ha! Building a chute, huh?
--Yes. To redirect the poopster--
--ANGRY FALCON: What?! --Yes. To redirect the poopster--
This town's paying for a chute and I can't even get a bear enclosure?!
(townsfolk argue amongst themselves, indistinctly)
Sheriff was right all along.
Guess sometimes you don't learn something 'till it's too late.
Now, I know things look dire, but this chute--
(squeak...fart!) Now, I know things look dire, but this chute--
(rumbling)
(crash!)
Did you do that?
Did I?
Of course not! Fool!
We're taking these supports and building a REAL slide!
Your chute's busted, dude!
And the poopsteroid's getting closer!
Should I ask my Lincolns for help?
Sure, why not?
They said, "Build a chute!".
Excuse me! I gotta go!
Now?
Wait... that's it!
Oh-ho-ho! Stand aside, everyone!
I still have one more trick up my sleeve,
or should I say, under my saddle!
(Pottyhorse grunts)
(gaffaws) Too late to bury your head, man!
Uggh...I'm stuck...I'm stuck!
Great! Now I'll never get any snacks! (scoffs)
Darn...angle!
(grunts) I think...I...almost...
(grunts) Got it!
(saddle creaks open)
Oof!
(Pottyhorse screams)
(crash!)
Pottyhorse!
You saved us all.
Not yet.
Oh yeah!
(toilet flushes)
(grunts) Is everybody all right?
I guess so. They all went home.
Well, except that guy.
I still gotta go!
It might be a bit warm, but feel free.
(Sammin' Salmon grunts)
After all, your duty is my...duty.
Get it?
I get it.
Can I have some privacy now?
(jackhammering)
Frederator!