“Buttniks” quotes from Beavis and Butt-Head

There once was a man from Venus...who had a rocket-shaped, uh...wiener.

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[Beavis and Butt-head walk until they see a woman stood outside a beatnik club]

Whoa, check it out.

Yeah.

FBFemale beatnik

"You touch me, I shiver

Your tongue, I quiver

My loins, my liver

I, the taker; you, the giver"

Whoa. I've got something to give her.

Yeah.

FBFemale beatnik

Did you like my poem?

Uh…your what?

Yeah, yeah! Your loins, your liver!

FBFemale beatnik

There's plenty more inside.

Cool.

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OOmar

[on stage] "And then, my friend, you die. [louder] And then, my friend, you die, man! And then… [gasps] …my friend."

[scattered applause]

You die! Yeah.

OOmar

Thank you.

That was cool.

COCafe Owner

Thank you, Omar. Is there anyone who'd like to read now? Any new blood?

[to Beavis] Check this out. [to everyone] Uh…I got some rhymes for the house.

COCafe Owner

What's your name, young brother?

Uh…Butt-head.

COCafe Owner

Cool. Let's groove for a while with Butt-head.

Yeah.

[scattered applause]

Groove with me, people. [chuckles] This is gonna be cool.

[walks up to a male beatnik at a table] Um…I'm just gonna sit here, yeah.

Yeah, man, take a load off.

[chuckles] Take a load.

Check this out. Uh…there once was a man from Venus, with a rocket ship for a…a…wiener.

Yeah, yeah! [pounds table]

Uh…okay. Here's—

WWaiter

[to Beavis and male beatnik] Hi, what can I bring you guys?

Um…

[in background] Here I sit—

Uh, yeah, get me a triple amaretto cappuccino, low on the foam, a double shot, and bring the man here one, too, right?

The phone is ringing, and I cannot linger. So, look out, butt, here comes my finger. [audience groans] And then, my friend, you die.

Yeah, yeah! You die! [pounds table]

That was cool.

[waiter hands Beavis and male beatnik their drinks]

Um…um…

Try it, man, come on. It's—it's cappuccino.

[chuckles] Crappuccino? Crappuccino. [chuckles] Yeah. [takes a sip]

[in background] Diarrhea, cha-cha-cha.

Yeah, copasetic, dialectic.

Wahhh! Copasetic, copasetic! Gimme that. [snatches other drink and downs it]

[in background] This is a pee-pee—no.

WWaiter

Hi, more cappuccino?

I need crappuccino for my bunghole! Gimme that! [chittering; snatches coffee pot from waiter and drinks it all]

[in background] Uh, I'll tell that one later. [Beavis speaks gibberish] There once was a lady from China, with a popsicle in her—

COCafe owner

[pulls microphone away from Butt-head as the feedback whines] Thanks, thanks, kid. That was organic. Let's give someone else a shot at the mic.

[has his shirt over his head, jumps up from table; chittering] I am Cornholio! My bunghole will speak now! [runs into another table] Ah, hey. Are you threatening me? I must have more crappuccino for my bunghole. [snatches drink] Bungholio, bungholio. [slurping]

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[onstage, gibbering incoherently] I am Cornholio! I need t.p. for my bunghole! I want all your crappuccino!

[sitting at table with male beatnik and another man] Do it, brother Beavis.

Are you threatening me?! You do not want to face the wrath of my bunghole. My bunghole, it goes bungo. Tungo, tungo, tungo. Tungo! Rap-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa. And one for you. Parrrrr! [gulps]

MMan

[to Butt-head] Hi, I run the multicultural poetry program at the university. Your friend is, uh, unusual. What is he? Hispanic? Russian?

Uh…yeah. He's Russian. [chuckles]

MMan

Uh…hmm. Amazing energy. I'd love to see his portfolio.

Portfolio? Holio, holio! Arriba, arriba, yeah. I come from Lake Titicaca.

Hey, man, you've been holding out on us. Where'd you get all those crazy rhymes?

Would you like to see my portfoilo? I have a portfolio in my bunghole with my oleo.

WWaiter

Wow, this is ground-breaking stuff, man.

[gibbering]

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[groaning onstage, the caffeine having worn off, hits his head on the microphone; microphone feedback whinges] Hey, how's it going? Oh, yeah. Um, roses are—no. Um…heh. Oh, I know. Uh…here I sit, brokenhearted, I pay the quarter— You got a quarter?

MMan

Well, his fifteen minutes of fame are over. I guess nobody can keep up that kind of intensity.

Wait, I want more. Man, he's not done. [to waiter] Alphons, bring my boy another cappuccino, a quadruple.

Quarter, pay the dime…

[Waiter hands Beavis his drink]

Yeah, leave the pot.