The complete transcript for Masquerade Marathon

Opening SceneEdit

{A birdhouse is seen, with various birds around it.}

RED GREEN: {voiceover} Isn't it great to be able to help the birds through the winter with these bird feeders?

{Cut to Red pouring some red pepper into a bucket placed on a worktable.}

RED GREEN: We all want the birds to be healthy and happy, 'cause it'll be huntin' season before you know it. {laughs} I'm kiddin'. But you know, this year, we've had the worst winter we've had in a while. {stops pouring pepper into bucket and putting it down} I'm just afraid that normal birdseed won't do the job.

{Red picks up the bucket and goes over to the birdhouse with it.}

RED GREEN: They need food that'll help generate a little extra heat in those tiny bodies. {lifts up roof off of birdhouse} And that's why I've mixed up this batch of jalapenos, chili peppers and extra, extra hot sauce to give this birdseed a little boost in the horsepower department.

{Red pours the hot mix into the birdhouse through the opened roof. He then puts the roof back on and walks over to a picnic table, where he sits on the table. He looks over toward the birdhouse, where the sounds of hissing, bubbling and sizzling are heard inside. He hears the birds all squawking and chirping.}

RED GREEN: I think it's gonna be a little warmer in the nest tonight.

{He suddenly hears the sounds of birds as they fly past him, trailing different colors of smoke.}


{Red enters the Lodge, waving. The audience cheers.}

RED GREEN: Thank you very much. Appreciate it. Yeah. Well, it's a big, big week up at the Lodge this week. Yeah. I know you're excited, because tomorrow is the day the town has their annual masquerade picnic. Y'know, that's a big day. It used to be just a normal picnic; we used to have the potluck supper in there, but we've had so many food poisoning claims that now everybody wears a costume to protect the guilty.

{Mike enters the Lodge, wearing a turquoise suit and tie and a beaglepuss.}

RED GREEN: Speaking of protecting the guilty... {Mike walks up close to Red} So, uh, what's up, Mike?

MIKE HAMAR: I'm not Mike.

RED GREEN: Oh, really?

MIKE HAMAR: No. I'm an interesting stranger from a faraway town. There's no one named Mike living in the face of which I speak.

RED GREEN: Oh, really?

MIKE HAMAR: Yeah, mm-hmm.

{Red reaches out and removes Mike's beaglepuss from his face. Mike smiles and bats his eyes at Red.}

RED GREEN: What's the problem?

{Mike suddenly breaks down, crying.}

MIKE HAMAR: You gotta help me, Mr. Green! About ten years ago, I ratted on this guy named Big Al Finkleman. I sent him up to the slammer, and I heard yesterday that he just got out and he's comin' to get me to pay me back! What am I gonna do?!

RED GREEN: You know, maybe you're not Mike.

MIKE HAMAR: Oh, yeah, I'm Mike. {reaches inside his coat pocket and pulls out a small book} I am Mike. You have a look.

{Mike hands Red the book and Red takes it.}

RED GREEN: {looking at book} "Dalton Humphrey". Yeah, you're Mike all right. {Mike nods} Look, Mike, here's all you gotta do: tomorrow is the masquerade picnic, right? So go out and get yourself a decent costume, and you'll blend right in. This Big Al guy will never find ya.

MIKE HAMAR: {intrigued} Oh, that's a great idea! I'm gonna go right over to that costume store.

RED GREEN: All right...

MIKE HAMAR: How late are they open?

RED GREEN: Oh, don't worry about it, there'll be somebody there 'til six.

MIKE HAMAR: Okay, I'll wait.

{Mike sits down in a chair.}

The Possum Lodge Word GameEdit

DALTON HUMPHREY: It's time for the Possum Lodge Word Game! Yeah!

{Dalton makes wild gesticulations. The camera pulls back to reveal Dalton standing behind the card table where Red and Harold are seated.}

DALTON HUMPHREY: {picking up and holding a glowing stick} And tonight's lucky winner will receive this striking fluorescent bicycle handle grip. Ideal for hitchhiking at night.

{Dalton sticks the glowing stick on his thumb in a hitchhiking pose. He then sets it down and looks toward Harold.}

DALTON HUMPHREY: Okay, close your ears. {Harold does so, with his whole hands; Dalton picks up word sign} Red, you got thirty seconds to get Harold to say this word... {turns sign around to show audience} "Power"! "Power"!

RED GREEN: Alright, Dalton.

DALTON HUMPHREY: {setting sign down} And go.

{Harold takes his hands out of his ears.}

RED GREEN: Okay, Harold, what's the most important thing on a car?

HAROLD GREEN: Cup holders!

RED GREEN: No. No, this is a performance thing.

HAROLD GREEN: Ho! Reclining seats?

RED GREEN: No, no... Okay, when I stomp down on the Possum Van gas pedal, it gives me lots of...

HAROLD GREEN: ...fumes. {pauses} It does.

RED GREEN: Okay, we have to move something like a piano. We always put Moose Thompson on the heavy end because he has more...


RED GREEN: Okay, Harold, when you're dancing with a beautiful girl, okay, you got her in your arms, eh? Suddenly, both of you feel the something of love.

{Harold gets shocked again and stammers, unable to speak.}

RED GREEN: No, no. No, no, no, no...

DALTON HUMPHREY: Time's almost up, Red.

RED GREEN: Yeah. No, you know what? Harold, I think– I think we're scuppered here.

HAROLD GREEN: No, no, no, no, don't give up! Don't give up! Just use the power of positive thinking! That will–

{Red cuts him off by rapidly ringing the bell to end the game.}

DALTON HUMPHREY: Way to go! {sticks the fluorescent bike grip on Harold's thumb}

Rothschild's Sewage and Septic Sucking ServicesEdit

{Winston is seen walking away from an outhouse and past his sewage truck, holding a length of hose.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: {voiceover} State-of-the-art waste-water removal vehicle, $95,000.

{Cut to Winston closing a valve on his truck.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: {voiceover} Hard hat, $20.

{Cut to a closeup of Winston's bow tie, which he adjusts.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: {voiceover} Trademark, $14.95.

{Cut to Winston walking alongside his truck, up to the driver's seat.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: {voiceover} Heading home with clean boots after four pump-outs and an overflow, priceless.

{Winston climbs into the driver's seat of his truck.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: {voiceover} For city folks, there's public works. For everyone else, there's Rothschild's Sewage and Septic Sucking Services.

{The image on the screen turns to liquid and gets sucked into the screen, revealing only a plain red background with the name of Winston's business on it.}

Handyman CornerEdit

{Red walks along, dragging a barbecue grill behind him.}

RED GREEN: Some men are so competitive, even with dumb things like barbecue grills. They get those big units with the extra side burners and the rotisserie and the wet bar. Well, I'll show them a thing or two, huh? {chuckles} Here's a way to build your own mega-grill using something everybody has right in their own backyard: {walks up to and taps an old car with the hood up, exposing the engine} a previously-enjoyed automobile. Oh, sure, you'd have to make a few alterations to the vehicle, but, y'know, the truly worthwhile things in life are always worth a little extra effort. {holds up spark plugs} Now, first, you wanna take off the spark plugs, but leave them hooked up to the ignition wire. {disconnects fuel line} And then you wanna disconnect the fuel line from the carburetor. {walks around in front of car} Now you gotta take the engine out of her. Shouldn't be that hard, especially if the vehicle's been sitting there for a while.

{Red kicks the car bumper, causing the engine to fall out on the ground. Wipe to a later scene. Red has put a barbecue pit full of charcoal into the car where the engine was. Red holds a lighter.}

RED GREEN: Okay, you mount the fuel line on top there, then you run your spark plugs up the side, then you put the whole deal down into the cavity where the engine used to be. Kinda like a heart transplant. {stomps down on charcoal with his foot} Although I believe with the heart transplant, they clean the shoes off first.

{Red gets off of the car.}

RED GREEN: All right, now we need something to use as a grill. {looks at car grill} How 'bout the grill?

{Red pulls off the car grill and places it on top of the engine. Wipe to a later scene. Red is seated in the driver's seat of the car.}

RED GREEN: Okay, I think we're all ready to start barbecuing here. First thing you wanna do, pump the gas a few times to soak the charcoal.

{Red pumps the gas pedal. Gasoline spews out of the fuel line onto the charcoal.}

RED GREEN: And then you just start her up.

{Red turns on the ignition of the car. The barbecue pit fires up. The camera pulls back to reveal some steaks over the grill.}

RED GREEN: Okay, we're all set to grill up some delicious steaks. You know, if salad is so good for you, how come you can't barbecue it? Can you answer me that? {pauses} I didn't think so. So here I am, sitting in my deluxe barbecue grill, out of the rain, sittin' in plush comfort. Got the FM/AM station if I so choose. What's that, you say? How do I add my favorite steak sauce? Well, hey, isn't that what windshield washers are for?

{Red pushes the windshield washer button. Barbecue sauce spews out of the washer onto the steaks.}

RED GREEN: And just spread it around with the wiper.

{Red pushes the windshield wiper button. The wipers have attached to them two barbecue brushes that spread the sauce back and forth on the steaks.}

RED GREEN: And it's just that easy. So remember, if the women don't find you handsome, they should at least find you handy. {closes door} This isn't a barbecue, it's a car-becue! Gets over fifty meals to a gallon! Even more if I goose it!

{Red stomps down on the gas pedal. Flames shoot up higher on the barbecue. Red sticks his head out the window and gives a thumbs-up.}

Segue: Winston RothschildEdit

{Winston stands on the back bumper of his sewage truck.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: When you're hit with an aroma {drops down on the ground} that buckles your knees, and your property smells like prehistoric cheese, call us; we'll handle the problem with ease, before your neighbors keel over with each passing breeze.

{Winston holds up his business card.}

Plot Segment 2Edit

{Outside the Lodge, various people dressed in different costumes are walking around. Red walks past them and enters the Lodge.}

RED GREEN: Well, everybody's all dressed up for the masquerade picnic thing. Most of them are monsters and animals and... Actually, that was even before they put the costumes on. {wipes his hands together}

{Dalton, Winston and Mike enter the Lodge, dressed as an Arab, a clown and a matador, respectively.}

DALTON HUMPHREY: Hey, Red. {Red sways his head} You recognize us?

RED GREEN: Why, sure, it's Curly, Larry and Mike.

MIKE HAMAR: {taking off his hat} Aw, gee! If I can't fool you, I can't fool anybody! Big Al's gonna come and he's gonna find me and he's gonna kill me!

DALTON HUMPHREY: Boy, you're gonna lose the deposit on your costume.

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: Hey, I got an idea! Why don't you dress up as a woman? That'll fool him!

MIKE HAMAR: Well, that's kinda risky, he's been in prison for ten years.

RED GREEN: You know what, Mike? If Big Al came through that door right now, what would you do?

MIKE HAMAR: I'd probably soil myself.

{Dalton and Winston step back.}

DALTON HUMPHREY: You'd lose the deposit on your costume.

MIKE HAMAR: {looking at Dalton, then back at Red} And I'd run.

RED GREEN: Exactly. And that's how we can hide ya, see? We'll get everybody to run with you, and you'll get lost in the shuffle there. Before we have the masquerade picnic, we'll have the masquerade marathon! {laughs}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: Kinda like the Boston Marathon!

RED GREEN: Yeah, except we won't go 26 miles.

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: And it won't be in Boston, right?

DALTON HUMPHREY: What about a prize? You're gonna need to offer some kinda prize, huh?

RED GREEN: Well, I think that's Mike's responsibility. I mean, we're doing this for him, so I think he's gonna offer them the prize.

MIKE HAMAR: Uh, okay. The winner gets to choose his own prize.

RED GREEN: Alright, alright...

MIKE HAMAR: As long as it's available locally and it can be carried by one person.

The ExpertsEdit

{Winston, Red and Dalton are sitting around a table. Winston sits in a chair while Red and Dalton share a car-themed couch.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: Welcome to the Experts portion of the show, where we address those three little words that men find so hard to say: {gestures toward audience}

AUDIENCE: I DON'T KNOW! {headlights on car couch light up with each word}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: Those are the words. {holds up letter} Ooh! Today's letter's from a lady. {reading} "Dear Experts, my husband is a total embarrassment."

RED GREEN: {amused} Well, that coulda been written by every woman I know! {he and Dalton laugh silently}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: {continuing} "Especially when he eats. He picks his teeth, puts his elbows on the table and makes rude noises." {with guilt} "It's gotten so bad I don't even want to go out to expensive restaurants with him anymore."

DALTON HUMPHREY: Wish I'd thought of that. Oh, boy, I just hate dining out! You know, there's so many little rules of etiquette to remember!

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: Aw, Dalton, it's simple! You just start with the smaller cutlery on the outside and work your way in.

DALTON HUMPHREY: What do you mean?

RED GREEN: Well, see, Dalton's used to cutlery that comes in a plastic bag with a moist towelette.

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: You know what the problem is, don't you? This town doesn't have enough fine dining establishments. That's why I'm thinking about opening up my own, eh?

RED GREEN: Oh, yeah?

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: Yeah. Winston's Hideaway. You know, for people like me.

RED GREEN: Oh, yeah, lonely sewage suckers with no chance for romance? Kinda picturing a lot of tables for one there, Winston.

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: No, no, no! If someone comes in alone, I would just seat them with another eligible single. Yeah, kind of a dating service/restaurant thing.

RED GREEN: Sounds more like a bad idea/lawsuit thing. No, I'll tell you what this lady needs to do is just... she needs to be able to ignore her husband. Go to a restaurant where they have real low lights and loud music, you know? If she can't see him and can't hear him, she'll probably get along with him a lot... Or better yet– Better yet, you know what? Just stay home. That's what– That's what Bernice and I do.

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: And Bernice is able to ignore all your faults?

RED GREEN: Oh, sure, yeah. Yeah, she's sitting at one end of the table in the dining room, and I'm lying on the couch in the living room.


Action on screen Red's voiceover
A metal structure from an old swing set is placed on a snow-covered hill. The structure is topped by a ticking clock whose minute is going around, and next to it is a string. Red walks up to it, holding a paint can, and looks at the clock, which has a mark on it between the 4 and 5 positions. Red takes a hold of the string. We have this thing we do every year. We try to see who can be the fastest coming down the big hill. We set up a clock and we set her at– You see the mark there up on the 23-second mark? That is the world record for coming down our hill.
Red pulls on the clock once the minute hand reaches the 12 at the top. The clock rings and stops ticking. Red hangs the paint can from the string. Nearby, Dalton, Mike, Winston and Walter all stand around excitedly. They hold a toboggan, while Dalton stands next to a bucket full of snowballs. So we set it and I stopped the clock right on the 12. Then I hang a paint can on there. Now all we do is knock the paint can off. That starts the clock. And then we try to get down the hill and hit the timer and pull her to stop and... well, you'll see how I mean it in a second.
Red walks up and takes the toboggan. He then signals Dalton, who throws a snowball at the paint can, knocking it off the string. The clock rings and starts ticking. Red slides down the hill on the toboggan. So I'm gonna take the first run. I get up on the toboggan. Dalton– I tell Dalton, "Go ahead, Dalton, I'm ready to go." He whips the snowball way down the hill, knocks the can off, and that starts the clock and down she comes.
Red slides down the hill on the toboggan at breakneck speed. He zooms toward a rock in his path, but he manages to slide past it by just a few inches. He then continues onward. He races right through the swing structure with the clock. He raises his arm to pull on the string and stop the clock. So I'm doing pretty good there. I believe– I think there's a rock somewhere on– Here it is. Yeah, don't miss that. And we're coming– Looking good, looking good, looking good, and... Oh, I like this baby. Oh, beautiful!
Red, taking the toboggan with him, walks up to the clock, which shows he misses the record time by at least ten seconds. He pulls on the string, then reattaches the paint can to the string. Now I go check my time. No, it's about 37. I'm a good 14 seconds off the record. You know, the thing with tobogganing, for those of you who've done it, you know that the more weight you have on the toboggan, generally, the faster she'll go.
Cut to a later scene. Red places the toboggan at the starting position up the hill, near all the others. He motions for Walter and Mike to step on the toboggan. Winston follows, but Red stops him and orders him to the back. They all squat down on the toboggan, Winston behind the others. So I figure we're gonna add a bit more weight now. Unfortunately, Winston was us and nobody wanted him in front of them, so we kinda had to keep shuffling back. No, back you go, Winston, get back. You don't wanna be downwind from Winston, that's for sure. Now, get back there, Winston. So we put Winston on the back there.
Red motions to Dalton from the crowded toboggan. Dalton hurls a snowball at the paint can, but accidentally hits Winston on the back instead, knocking him down. Red gives a thumbs-up. Now we signal Dalton. Okay, Dalton, we're ready to rip. Fire away and, uh... Well, it was unfortunate. Okay, we'll go without Winston then, all right.
Dalton nods and hurls another snowball at the paint can. This time, he hits it, starting the clock. The toboggan slides down the hill, sans Winston. The toboggan races through the structure. Red pulls the string to stop the clock. The minute hand is pointing straight down, still off the record slightly. Red and the others walk back up the hill, dragging the sled along behind them. And, uh, try 'er again. We're gonna make a difference. And away we go! Down we go, and I'm feeling pretty good. I'm feeling the extra speed already, and, uh... Is this enough weight, do we think, to break the world record? We'll soon find out. Check it. No. Well, we gained some, but no, not yet. So we need to do something that has even more weight yet.
Later, Red and the others have broken the toboggan in half and tied to it a picnic table. Red motions everyone to get on the picnic table where he is seated, even Dalton and Winston. Dalton hurls a snowball at the paint can, knocking it off the string and starting the clock. The picnic table toboggan with Red and his pals on it goes really fast down the hill. It comes up on the rock. And we got a great idea. Okay, even Dalton can go with us, 'cause he can sit right on top of the picnic table. And, uh, fire away, Dalton. And we're just off like a rocket down the hill! Unbelievable!
Red swerves the toboggan off to avoid hitting the rock. It continues to slide down the hill, right at the time structure. But it doesn't go under the structure. Instead, it goes off the side. Red ducks his head while he reaches his hand out to stop the clock. The toboggan crashes into the structure and knocks it down. The toboggan slows to a stop. Everyone is thrown off, except Red, who gets up. Look out for that rock, and then... Watch it! I think we're looking good! Looking good!
Red picks up the clock from amid the wreckage. It shows that the second hand had stopped short of the record line. Red motions everyone to come over to him. He shows the clock and where it stands. Everyone cheers and gives each other high-fives. Okay, I know you're hurtin', but... here's the good news: we're now the world champs!

Ranger Gord's Educational FilmsEdit

{Ranger Gord is seated inside his fire watchtower with a film projector next to him.}

RANGER GORD: Hi, everybody, Ranger Gord here. You know, in tonight's educational film, which, of course, I wrote and directed and... well, I did all the voices and drew all the pictures and, uh, well, I choreographed most of the love scene... {winks} Tonight's episode is all about teaching you how to talk to the animals. I like to call this episode "Ranger Doolittle". This is, of course, just a catchy name for this film and not any kind of an indication of what I do up here on a regular basis, okay? Really, it's not. So, anyway, that's the end of the introduction portion of the presentation. Now we move on to the next portion of the presentation, which is, of course, the... middle part of the presentation, which comes right after the introduction and, of course, just before the... {pause; breathes} ending. {another pause} Here we go!

{Gord starts up the projector. The film starts. The cartoon Ranger Gord's hand pops in and writes out "Ranger Gord Presents". This title then changes to "Ranger Gord's Educational Films". The hand underlines "Educational". A picture of Gord appears in the title. The film then fades to Gord posing with the title "Starring me! Ranger Gord". Fade to a shot of a cartoon sky dotted with clouds. The title reads, "Today's episode..." and then "RANGER DOOLITTLE". Cut to Ranger Gord standing next to a tree.}

RANGER GORD: Well, folks, today, I'm gonna show everyone in our solar system that I can talk to the animals!

{Cut to another perspective of Gord. In the tree hangs Little Red, upside-down from his tail. Next to the tree is a stream with a beaver dam in it. On top of it is Little Harold.}

LITTLE HAROLD: Fwaaaa, that's awesome, Ranger Gord! {holds up a tree branch}

RANGER GORD: Yes, it is, Harold. Have either of you ever talked to animals, hmm?

LITTLE HAROLD: Ah, I haven't personally, no, no.

LITTLE RED: {lowering himself down from the tree} I speak to a jackass every once in a while, you know?

{Gord stares at Red, who looks annoyed. Cut to a moose, looking angry. It snorts. Red's eyes bug out in shock at the sight of the moose. The moose charges at Red and butts him, sending him spinning through the air.}


{Gord watches Red fly through the air, then turns to the camera.}

RANGER GORD: As you can see, animals don't appreciate that kind of humor.

{Gord runs over to Harold, who stares fearfully at the moose.}

RANGER GORD: This is a moose, Harold. Why don't you try talking to it?

LITTLE HAROLD: Fwa, all right. Uh, hello, uh, my name is Harold. What's your name?

{The moose opens its mouth and stuffs Harold inside, leaving his rear exposed. Harold screams. The moose then shakes its head around, shaking up Harold inside. Meanwhile, a dazed Red returns.}

RANGER GORD: I think maybe you're getting just a little too personal, Harold.

{The moose continues to shake Harold around.}

LITTLE RED: I think Harold's in real trouble here! Moose are vegetarians!

{The moose stops shaking its head and Harold inside and outside its mouth. Gord walks over to the moose, shaping his hands like antlers.}

RANGER GORD: Oonga wonga dingy dinga!

{The moose drops Harold out of its mouth. Harold lands on his front body.}

LITTLE HAROLD: {muffled} Thank you, Ranger Gord. {the moose walks off}

LITTLE RED: What did you say to him?

RANGER GORD: I said, "Oonga wonga dingy dinga!"

LITTLE HAROLD: {getting up} Uh, and what does that mean, huh?

RANGER GORD: No idea, Harold. Just because I speak moose doesn't mean I understand it.

LITTLE RED: Let's go, Harold.

{Red and Harold turn to leave, but Gord cuts them off.}

RANGER GORD: No, hang on a minute. Let's see if I can get that moose back here to apologize.

{Gord turns and calls out in gibberish. A duck walks up.}

LITTLE RED: {pointing} That's a duck.

RANGER GORD: Close enough. Why don't you say something?

LITTLE RED: Uh, no thanks, no.

RANGER GORD: Oh, come on, you can do it.

LITTLE RED: Uh, no thanks, Gord, I, uh, don't want people to see me talking to a duck.

RANGER GORD: {crossing his arms and looking away} You're a snob, you know that, Red? {looks at duck and speaks gibberish to it; duck stares at him}

LITTLE RED: All right, I'll, uh, give it a shot here. Uh... {to duck} So, duck, how would you describe Ranger Gord?

DUCK: {staring as before} Quack.

{Gord looks surprised. Red and Harold high-five each other, but Harold falls over on his back. Cut to a shot of a green hill with trees. The duck struts by with an expression like Groucho Marx, complete with thick eyebrows and holding a cigar. Gord's hand comes into frame, holding a "The End" sign. The film ends. Cut back to the real-live Gord, who applauds enthusiastically and gives a thumbs-up. He then turns off the projector.}

Segue: Winston Rothschild 2Edit

{Winston stands in front of his sewage truck.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: If your ground seems unusually soft, if each time you breathe, you let out a cough, if the cows roll their eyes and barf in the trough, better call Rothschild's before the lid blows off.

{Winston holds up his business card.}

Red's Handyman TipsEdit

{Red slowly drives the Possum Van down a one-lane road with a solid line dividing it in half. A whole line of cars is following behind him, all honking their horns at him. He just finishes going past the white line that divides the lane, which now turns into broken white lines and thus creates two lanes. Once through this lane, the cars behind the van swerve into the new lane and pass by Red, going much faster now.}

RED GREEN: {voiceover} You know what really fries my bacon? When I'm cruising along the highway and car after car comes up behind me and swerves over the line to pass. To me, it's an insult, like I'm just going slow for spite or something. Anyone who knows me could tell ya I'd go faster if I could. If only there was a way to stop them from passing me.

{Cut to Red standing behind a worktable outside a wooden shack. The Possum Van is parked behind him. On the table are a traffic cone, a paint can and a baseball.}

RED GREEN: Well, there is! Now, you're thinking I'm gonna maybe switch to jet fuel or... supercharge the engine or maybe build some kind of a flamethrower into the back of the van. And while those are great ideas, I'm going with something that captures my trademark creative subtlety. I'm gonna build a giant ballpoint pen. {picks up cone} All right, now all you need is one of these safety pylons. I found this one just up the road.

{Suddenly, Red looks off-screen as he hears the sound of tires screeching, followed by a crash. Red then hastily picks up the baseball.}

RED GREEN: Okay, then you just get a hard ball, and you drop that in there. {drops ball into cone} That's the ball of your ballpoint pen. You already got the point, which is to stop people from passing ya. {picks up a coil spring} Okay, now, to hold the ball in place, you need a big spring. This here's a coil spring off a car. You can find those beside any pothole. And then to hold the whole assembly in place, {picks up paint can} wanna attach a few paint cans, one on top of the other, and then punch a hole in the bottom of each one. I'll explain about that later. {picks up a roll of duct tape} Attach them all together with the handyman's secret weapon.

{Wipe to a later scene. Red has placed the unit onto the side of the van, next to the driver-side door. He pours some white paint into it, which has three empty paint cans duct-taped to the traffic cone.}

RED GREEN: So all we do is add the ink, which, in this case, is paint. These paint cans were actually empty, so I had to add paint to them, and it just so happens to be the exact same color as the stuff they use to paint the highway lines. {opens door and climbs inside} There's a coincidence, huh? {chuckles; closes door} Alright, let's go see if the pen is mightier than the tailgater.

{Red starts up the Possum Van and drives off. Later, he is seen driving down the same road as before, in front a line of honking cars.}

RED GREEN: Remember now, no passing on the solid line.

{The ballpoint pen drops down to the ground, dragging alongside the van. The paint-covered ball rubs against the road, painting the broken line completely solid and keeping the line of cars behind the van from passing.}

Plot Segment 3Edit

{Outside the Lodge, the people dressed in different costumes are running. Red enters the Lodge.}

RED GREEN: Well, the masquerade marathon is off and running. Weird to see people in animal costumes running through town. Looks like fire drill at Disney World. I mean, they started off early, for some reason I couldn't figure... I guess they took a look at the condition of the athletes and decided to allow a little more time for them.

{Dalton enters the Lodge, still in his Arab costume.}



DALTON HUMPHREY: Looks like Mike's gonna win the marathon.

RED GREEN: Uh-huh. You– You're not in it, Dalton?

DALTON HUMPHREY: Oh, no, no, got the, uh... {groans} Oh, geez, got the bad back.

RED GREEN: {chuckles} Your front's no treat, either. {Dalton looks disappointed} Tell me something, how come they started early?

DALTON HUMPHREY: Oh, Big Al showed up.

RED GREEN: Oh, boy.

DALTON HUMPHREY: Oh, yeah, Mike started runnin', and everyone thought the race had started. {amused} Oh, geez, Mike was really motorin'!

RED GREEN: Really? I can't believe he could run in that matador costume.

DALTON HUMPHREY: No, no, no, he didn't. He came up with a whole different outfit.

RED GREEN: Really?


{Mike enters the Lodge, disguised as Red Green himself. He walks up to the real Red and Dalton. Red looks disappointed.}


RED GREEN: {bemused} Congratulations...

{The "Squeal of the Possum" sounds.}

DALTON HUMPHREY: Oh, meeting time!

RED GREEN: Yeah, you guys go ahead, I'll be down in a minute, eh?

{Dalton heads for the stairs, Mike following. But then Mike stops and turns to Red.}

MIKE HAMAR: Oh, I– I forgot to tell you, Mr. Green. I think Big Al mighta followed me here.

{Mike continues toward the stairs. Suddenly, someone is heard knocking harshly on the door. Startled, Mike hurries down the stairs. The door opens and in walks a tough-looking man in a leather jacket, a gray t-shirt and blue jeans with big rips in the knees. This is the man whom Mike calls Big Al Finkleman. He sees Red and walks up to him, glaring. Big Al towers over him. Red looks nervous.}

BIG AL FINKLEMAN: What's up, Mike?

RED GREEN: {stammering} No, no, no, no, I'm– No, I'm– I'm, uh– I'm, uh– I'm Red Green, and, uh... This is my– This is my– {feels around in his pockets} I can show you my driver's license here... {finds nothing} Well, my wallet's gone.

BIG AL FINKLEMAN: So Mike was here?

RED GREEN: Yeah, yeah, but you know what? He just left.

{Big Al runs out the door.}

RED GREEN: {to the camera} Okay, uh, if my wife is watching, I'll be coming straight home after the meeting. And watch out for some guy dressed like me. He's an ex-con. He's trying to sub in on my conjugal visit. {to the audience} To the rest of ya, thanks for watching. On behalf of myself and the whole gang up here at Possum Lodge, {suddenly hears the door knocking again} keep your stick on the ice. {heads for the front door and opens it}

{Cut to the Lodge Meeting. Dalton and Winston, still in their respective costumes, are standing at the front. The men are taking their seats as Mike, still disguised as Red Green himself, as he walks over to Red's place.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: Sit down. Everybody, sit down.

{Mike takes Red's place at the head of the meeting as everyone all sits down.}

WINSTON ROTHSCHILD: {suddenly standing up} All rise!

{Everyone gets up and puts their arms over their chests.}

EVERYONE: {Mike doing his Red Green impersonation} Quando Omni Flunkus Moritati.

MIKE HAMAR: {doing his Red Green impersonation} Sit down. {everyone sits down} All right, men, all bow your heads for the Man's Prayer. {everyone lowers their heads}

EVERYONE: I'm a man, but I can change, if I have to, I guess.

{Suddenly, the real Red walks down the stairs.}

RED GREEN: Hey, men, has anybody seen Big Al's car keys?

MIKE HAMAR: Oh, right!

{Mike, still in Red Green disguise, tosses Red the car keys. Red walks back upstairs.}