Are You Karate Kidding Me? / The Fresh Prawn of Bel-Air

Dre Parker (Son of Will Smith in American): I hate China, with all its know-it-all cookies and overly-tall walls! This place STINKS!

Kai-Lan (Translated from Chinese: Broccoli): You just have to get to know it. I'm Kai-Lan; That's Chinese for "broccoli."

Dre Parker: I'm Dre; That's American for "Son of Will Smith".

[Gong noises are heard as Dre Parker pops out of Will Smith's head.]

Kai-Lan: You shouldn't talk to me in front of the school bullies.

Dre Parker: Why? Afraid I get black and blue? [someone punches Dre in the face, soon it reveals to be Po]

Po: More like black and WHITE!

[cut to "Are You Karate Kidding Me?" title card]

Po: You think you can just show up and star in a karate movie 'cause you're cute? I'm a panda; I'll always be cute. You got three, maybe four years of cuteness left in ya.

Mr. Han: Noodles?

Po: Ooh, I love noodles.

[punch]

Mr. Han: Did you know notice how I beat you using only this bowl?

Po: No, I was too busy watching my coach beating your guy with a spoon.

[smacks]

Mr. Han: Enough! We will save fighting for tournament.

[gong]

Mr. Han: You must learn discipline. Take off your backpack and throw it down.

Dre Parker: But I got it from my friend, Dora.

Backpack: I'm the backpack, the backpack, the backpack!

Mr. Han: Throw it down.

(Dre Parker furiously drops Backpack to the ground repeatedly.)

Backpack: Ow, what are you doing?

Mr. Han: Pick up. Throw it down. Pick it up. Throw it down. Pick it up. Throw it down. Pick it up. Throw it down. Pick it up. Throw it down. Pick it up. Throw it down.

Dre Parker: What did that teach me?

Mr. Han: Nothing. I just hate that Dora the Explorer show.

[gong]

Mr. Han: Many mysteries will be answered today but ours starts with one question.

Dre Parker: What's that?

[smacks]

Dre Parker: Ow!

Mr. Han: Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?

Dre Parker: Ugh, Po's got a much better trainer.

Mr. Han: True! I put sleeping potion in his lunch.

[sneeze]

Mr. Han: You must feel the force flowing through you. Only then can you defeat Vader.

Dre Parker: Vader? I thought I was training to fight Po.

Mr. Han: Sorry, all training montages look alike.

Yoda: Looking to be sued you are, hmm? As are you.

Edward: We're not even training, you snot-covered goblin.

Mr. Han: Enough! We'll save fighting for tournament.

Dre Parker: Wait a minute. What kind of tournament are we training for?

(Scene cuts to a championship)

Referee: Welcome to the Chicken Fight Championship. Let's have a clean fight and no fouls except for the chicken kind. Begin!

[they all fight, until Dre is left standing]

Referee: And the winner is-- (sentence cut off)

Dora: Wait just a second! [All Gasp!] Who did this to my backpack?

[short silence]

Backpack: I have such a concussion, I can't remember.

Dora: Do you know who did this to Backpack?

[blue arrow clicks at Dre]

Dora: Gracias. HYAAAAAAAAAAH!

[smacks]

Dre Parker: Ow! Ow! Ooh! Ow! Augh! (Translated from Chinese: Somebody help me!)

Kai-Lan: That's Chinese for "Somebody help me!"

[more smacks]

Dre Parker: Aaaaah! Oooh! Ow! Ow! Ow!

(Segment Ends)

Transcript: Original Storyboard Version
(Start at China)

Here are some diffs:

(Kai-Lan pops out of broccoli)

Po: No, I was too busy watching my coach beat up your kid.

Dre: STOP IT ALREADY! Where did you learn these techniques?

Mr. Han: From a wise old puppeteer.

Jim Henson: (While whacking a Kermit puppet) Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?

Anchorwoman: 28 years ago, an alien spacecraft appeared in the stars.

E.T.: Phone home.

Anchorwoman: Different alien. These aliens were stranded...

E.T.: Mmhmm.

Anchorwoman: Malnourished...

E.T.: Aaah.

Anchorwoman: And didn't have a limited edition collector glass.

[glass breaks]

E.T.: Oouch.

Anchorwoman: Nicknamed "prawns" for their resemblance to shrimp, these aliens were placed in special zones and forced to take the only job suitable for malnourished creatures. Today, disgusted by the negative attention the prawn has brought to the city, protesters has demanded the government relocate these prawn to a different area.

Will Smith: [rapping] ♪ Now this is a story, you're gonna go "WHAT?"

Of how my life-switch turned right-side up

And I'm gonna take a moment, don't go nowhere

To tell you how I became the Prawn of Bel-Air!

(Title card: The Fresh Prawn of Bel-Air)

In the south-eastern hemisphere, you be amazed,

Is where we crashed down, where I spent my days

Eatin' outta cans, 'cause I love that gruel,

Shooting space guns, man, this stuff is cool!

When a couple of guys, they were government men,

Said we'd be moving out to District 10

I put up one little fight and my mom got scared

She said, "I'm moving you 'cross the world to live in Bel-Air" ♪

Will Smith: Yo, yo, I made it.

Philip Banks: Look, honey. Someone threw up another shrimp in the lobby.

Geoffrey Barbara Butler: You must be Master William.

Will Smith: And you must be the President of the Penguin Look-Alike Club!

Carlton Banks: Well if it isn't our new tenant, Will. My name is Carlton, but you can call me--

Will Smith: The shortest man I've ever seen! And to think, they called me shrimp.

Geoffrey Barbara Butler: Would you care for a beverage?

Will Smith: Do aliens explore Uranus?

Carlton Banks: I don't know, but they sure get mooned alot.

[laughs]

[spit-take]

Carlton Banks: Whaaaaa, what, what's happening to my-... AAH!!! My arm looks like your's now.

Will Smith: I guess that explains why I got kicked out of my last place.

Carlton Banks: Why?

Will Smith: They thought I was an arms dealer.

Philip Banks: I'm not sure if this is the best place for you after all, Will.

Carlton Banks: Wait, Dad. Do you how cool this arm is gonna make me look in school? I can learn a thing or two from this guy.

Philip Banks: Well. okay. As long as he doesn't cause any trouble.

Carlton Banks: Great! I'll carry your stuff to your room.

Will Smith: Careful, that gun's loaded!

[accidentally zaps Will]

Geoffrey Barbara Butler: That's odd. Barbequed shrimp is usually Wednesday’s lunch.