Sunday Man

1 [YAWNS.] Morning, Abigail. Wait a minute. What day is it today? It's Sunday, Sheriff. Ah! Sunday? That's the day when I clean up my room So I can get a treat From Sunday Man He comes once a week If I put up my toys And not be a slo-o-o-o-o-b I'll get an ice cream sundae with a cherry on to-o-o-p [CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS.] [HUMMING.] Yo, why we got to be working today? It's Sunday, man. Ah, speaking of Sunday Man, I guess I should get this photo of my clean room on over to the woods. - Say what? - What? Whoops. I'm not supposed to talk about Sunday Man. It's supposed to be our little secret. There's no such thing as a Sunday Man. - Yeah-huh! - Then who is he? All right, fine, but you can't tell anybody about him. On sundays, if you clean your room and take photographic evidence of it to the woods, Sunday Man, a real, live talking ice-cream sundae, will give you an ice-cream sundae. Now, don't tell anybody. I got to go. [HUMMING.] Yo, that sound creepy, yo. This Sunday Man is either going to kill Sheriff or make a milkshake out his booty hole. Oh, come on. I'm sure it's just Sheriff's mama in a costume, tricking him into cleaning his room. Nah, Goodman. The Sheriff needs me. I got to go protect him, yo. [SIGHS.] [DOOR CLOSES.] Yo, what the hell are you doing, Sheriff? Sunday Man, Sunday Man I cleaned my room today Sunday Man, Sunday Man Bring me an ice-cream sundae Sheriff! Sunday Man! Sunday Man real, yo. Good to see you. [BOTH LAUGH.] Oh, okay. Now, art thou worthy of my ice cream sundae-ness? Thou am! I cleaned my room, and here is my photographic evidence. That's a good sheriff. Now you're going to get a big, creamy treat. Oh, boy. My mouth is watering. No! Get away from him, Sunday Man! Wha what? Herman? What are you doing here? Aah! Sheriff, this was supposed to be our little secret. Oh, yeah. Uh, sorry about that. There will be no more ice-cream sundaes again. - What? No! - Goodbye. Sunday Man, come back. Now, Herman, tell momma what's the matter. The the the The Sunday Man, yo. Who the hell is that? Sheriff said he's a man made out of ice cream who gives you ice cream if you clean your room. Goodman says he's just you, momma, but Oh, yes. That's true. Oh, it was you? Damn, that's a relief. What do you mean? I haven't done the Sunday Man routine in decades. Then who was the Sunday Man I just saw in the woods with Sheriff, yo? What? Sunday Man, come back! - Leave me alone. - But I cleaned my room. Wait. Where the heck are we? My home. Now, you must leave, and don't ever come back. I'm not leaving until you give me my ice-cream sundae. Geez, your place is a pigsty. Well, I guess it's time I tell you the truth. I'm not really a man made out of ice cream. I'm just a man. Also, I'm your father. What?! Wait. How can I have a daddy? I thought my daddy was dead. Uh, no time to explain, son. You should really clean this place up, daddy. It could be a tripping hazard. Oh, you sound just like your momma. Oh, you know my momma? Well, yes, son. We were married once. I met your momma at my old ice-cream shop. Oh, we melted together as fast as two scoops of ice cream in July, but it turns out some ice creams don't mix because after a while, the nagging started. BOTH: Ice cream doesn't belong in the dresser! Underwear doesn't belong on the ceiling fan! Things belong where they land. That's what I say. [GRUNTS.] Whoa. Cool. Her cleanliness drove me nuts, so I faked my death. Wait. You faked your death just so you wouldn't have to clean your room? Yep. Anyway, in fear that you were going to turn out just like your daddy, your momma used to dress up like Sunday Man in order to trick you into cleaning your room. Eventually, she stopped the whole routine altogether, and I took it over. See, I knew it was the only way I'd get to see my son, but now that our secret is out, it's only a matter of time before I'm found. So I must pack my things and leave. There, I'm all packed. Goodbye, son. Daddy, I'm just getting to know you. Aw, cheer up, son. How about one last ice-cream sundae before I go? Yay, ice-cream sundae! [WHISTLES.] Hooking up the nipples To the serve machine Ice cream made from possum milk Makes some good ice cream Wait, you been making me ice cream out of possum milk? - Yes. - Disgusting! Daddy, if you don't love me enough to stick around, fine, but a deal is a deal. I cleaned my room. Now, where's my fricking ice cream sundae? Uh, okay. Okay. I know a place where I can get you some ice cream, but we must hurry. [GRUNTING.] Where are we going? - To here. - Huh? [GRUNTS.] my old ice-cream shop. Oh, cool. This sure brings back some memories. Over here is where I first kissed your momma. Aww. Oh, and here is where me and your momma first screwed. What? Oh, we screwed for hours that night, son. Uh We did the upside-down doggy Uh-huh Right-side-up banana split. Okay. Oh, and over here is where your momma tooked my wanker-doodle back and stuck her finger right up inside my Okay! Uh, let's just get to the ice-cream sundae. Right. Aw, the ice cream has gone yucky. Aw, I'm sorry, son, but the days of making ice cream in this place are gone. Good luck with your life. Bye now. But, daddy, why do you have to go? Because there's one other reason I faked my death. Not so fast. Huh? The napkin farmers. We had a feeling you weren't really dead. [LAUGHTER.] I'm telling you, momma. I see Sunday Man again, I'm going to be like bloop, bloop, blow. Yeah! Well, that's nice, Herman. Uh, yeah, uh, we should turn back, yo. No need to be scared, Herman, because I know exactly where we are. This house must belong to Sunday Man! Aah! Unhand me! Now, seriously, for the last time, drop the napkins and step away from my daddy. What do you want with him anyway? See, back in the old days, it was the golden age for napkin farmers. Farming trees, cutting them down and making napkins for places like your daddy's. People loved his ice cream, but he had one problem Ice cream melts fast, so he was forced into a messy situation. Buy napkins from us, and lots of them, right, boys? Yeah. Lots of napkins. Everything was perfect until your daddy figured he could make some bigger profits if he didn't have to buy any more napkins from us, so he invented a machine that make ice cream that don't drip. Then we paid him a visit and gave him two choices Give us the machine so we can destroy it, or we paper-cut him to death. And so I faked my death and kept the non-dripper so that I could at least still make you some ice cream on sundays. So that's what you made me ice cream with at your cabin, huh? Quiet, Sheriff! Now, take us to the non-dripper. Hurry it up. What the hell happened to my home? Guess you're not dead, harold. - Maggie. - This place was a pigsty. Oh, here we go again. They need the non-dripper, or they're going to kill us. Where is this thing, huh? Stop that! That doesn't go there! Things go wherever they land. Ah. Here, we are. Are you happy? Yep because now I get to watch you and your family get paper-cutted to death. Get 'em, boys! Okay. Ow. Oh, you picked the wrong family to paper-cut. Aah! [GRUNTS.] [GRUNTING.] [WHISTLES.] Possums, attack! Possums, ah! [GRUNTS.] Ow! [GROANS.] Ow! [GRUNTS.] Aha-ha! Ow! Son, use the napkin chainsaw. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Daddy, the non-dripper! [GRUNTS.] [GASPS.] Oh, geeze. Maybe napkins ain't the best weapons, but I still got Sheriff's gun. [GUN COCKS.] Prepare to die. Look, daddy! I'm made of ice creams. [CHUCKLES.] Move. Hey! Huh? I ain't afraid of you no more, Sunday Man! Aah! Ow! [SCREAMING.] I'm burning to death. See, momma. I guess it is okay to be a slob because a tripping hazard could save you from being shot in the face. Sheriff, what is going on here? You was wrong, Goodman. Sunday Man wasn't Sheriff's momma. Well, then, where is this man made of ice cream, huh? He just burnt to death in that fire, yo. Thank you for saving us, Herman. Yeah, momma, I got you, baby. Aw. Ugh. Oh, boy, an ice-cream sundae! It sure is nice to have this place cleaned up and running again. All thanks to you, momma. Harold, scoopers don't go on the floor. Things go wherever they land just like me back with the ones I love. Aww. Daddy, how come you came to see Sheriff all these years but you never came to see me? Oh, but I did, candy. I came to see you once a week at the strip Oh, so you must be Monday man! What? No. Who's Monday man? Thank you, Monday man. You're welcome. See you next Monday. Aw, don't be scared, Goodman. Huh? I'll protect you. Oh, come on. It's just Sheriff's momma in a marshmallow costume. Let's see. Ow. Ah! [SCREAMING.] M-o-m-m-a Momma named me Sheriff Momma named me Sheriff Momma named me Sheriff Momma, momma, momma, momma named me Sheriff She named me Sheriff.