You better not eat that breast, Kip.
Try and stop me, Napoleon.
[quickly picks up a biscuit, threatening to throw it at him] You do, you die.
You do, you die. I'm sick of you always taking my stuff, Kip.
Name three times in chronological order.
[First flashback shows Kip taking Baby Napoleon's pacifier]
[Second flashback shows 5-year-old Napoleon waiting in line to meet Santa Claus with his wishlist]
[cutting in front of him] Here's my list. You look tired, Santa. Take a break.
SSanta
Thanks! [gets up from his chair and leaves]
EElf
Scram! Santa'll be back next year.
[Napoleon enters the living room with zits on his forehead as Kip and Carlinda gasp at him]
Holy crap! What happened to your forehead?!
Kip hucked some chicken skin at me, and it gave me a butt load of zits. He's always disrespecting me 'cause he's jealous of my sweet body. [squashes a fly on his chest, killing it]
[disgusted] Napoleon, your face is making me sick. Go into the bathroom and pop those things.
I already tried. They're not ready yet. [tries popping one on his forehead] See?
You're not doing it right. Get over here. [smacks Kip in the back of his head]
[Napoleon sits down and Carlinda starts trying to pop the zits]
[in unison] Hold still. Hold still!
[in unison] Ow, ow! Stop! It kills! Dang it!
Well, the roots are too deep. They're digging into the skull.
I told you they weren't ready.
Try stabbing it with a blade.
Good idea, Kipper. [takes out her knife as Kip uses a lighter, flaming the blade]
[runs out of the house in his underwear and bear slippers] You guys are idiots!
[Preston High School; Napoleon is in the boys' bathroom, about to put the Rack-U-Tane on his forehead zits]
[reading the instructions on the tube] "Warning… Physical side-effects include: Bad breath, B.O., lust, increased pain threshold, and fits of unbridled rage." Yeah, right.
I'll answer that question in seven years…when you're ready.
Oh, all right. That's the Thundercone.
[Thunder rumbles and lightning flashes]
I've heard people die there, like 20 times a day.
[Napoleon and Pedro are in his bedroom while he searches everywhere for his Rack-U-Tane]
Pedro, I can't find my Rack-U-Tane anywhere! There's no way I can fight without it!
Oh, well. At least your skin is clear.
[entering the bedroom] What are you still doing here, Napoleon? I thought you had a big fight to impress the woman you stole from me.
She has a name, Kip. I just don't know what it is.
[Doorbell rings]
Oh. That must be the ride I arranged for you.
[pounding from outside the front door; off-screen] DYNAMITE, WHERE ARE YOU?!
Oh, man! It's Rex! Pedro, tell him I have diarrhea! [quickly hides under his bed]
He's right here, Rex. Hiding under his bed.
[pulls Napoleon out from under the bed] Nobody turns their back on the Thundercone! You're gonna fight whether you want to or not! [drags Napoleon out of his room by the ankles]
Be careful. He has diarrhea.
Kip, this is gonna be the easiest fight of my life.
[takes out the Rack-U-Tane] Is it, Napoleon?
You stole my Rack-U-Tane!
MMisty
I love when guys fight over me.
All right. But first, let me unscrew the cap on this tube.
I am SO gonna apply my skills to beat you!
Perhaps. Right after I apply the last of this rage cream to my face.
Quit cleverly twisting my words!
MMisty
Stop talking, start punching!
Prepare to be humiliated in front of Misty.
[Napoleon and Kip run through the cornfield after escaping the Thundercone and the angry mob chases after them]
Thanks, Kip. I couldn't have chickened out with a better guy.
Can we make up later? I can't run and talk at the same time.
[They dodge a pitchfork which nearly hits them; Starla roars]
MMisty
I love you, Starla!
So, Pedro, the other day, I found like, a scientist's secret diary, and it said if you burp, sneeze, fart, and yawn at the same time, you explode.
B.S., Napoleon, scientists don't keep diaries. They have logs. Secondly, I know two people who have snee-furped and lived to blog about it.
Well, they're liars! All the air leaving your body would create a super-vacuum and turn you into an upside-down blood fountain. GOSH!
[driving by in his van] This is the dumbest argument I have ever heard. Let's try it and see who's right.
[Napoleon lays on a wooden table chugging a whole bottle of root beer]
[using a stethoscope to hear the rumbling and gurgling sounds in Napoleon's stomach] The root beer has reached the cabbage. I think we're a go.
Initiating pepper cloud. [sprays a pepper cloud on Napoleon's face]
Any last words, Napoleon?
Pedro, if I die, have a hawk sprinkle on my ashes in Bear Lake.
Snee-furp in 3, 2, and 1.
[Napoleon groans and grunts as his stomach rumbles and passes wind, launching himself into the sky]
[coming out of the house] Have you boys seen my cabbage? Oh, there it is! [takes a bite of the cabbage] What you idiots looking at? [looks up, seeing Napoleon about to fall on her]
[falling from the sky] Get out of the way! Get out of the way! [lands on her, breaking the picnic table]
[grunting] Get off of me! [coughs] Oh.
[gets up] Sorry I didn't explode, guys. I totally forgot to yawn.
No, I'm not okay! Your dingbat brother just broke my transition lenses!
Boy, you really done it now. A good pair of photo-grays will set you back $28. And that's without the croakies!
$28?! I'll never have that kind of money!
Now, Carlinda, I keep telling you, these nephews of mine need to get a job! [Carlinda annoyingly smacks him in the back of his head] Ow!
Don't tell me how to raise my boys! Napoleon, you're getting a job to pay for these.
Kip's too frail for today's modern workplace. Besides, he's gonna be my eyes. I can't see a thing.
[Her POV shows her vision all blurry]
Why can't I be your eyes?
Because I'm way better describing stuff. Like how I always say, a baby's hand looks like a starfish.
Whoa. That is dead-on accurate, Kipper.
