Jetsons: The Movie

Meet George Jetson

His boy, Elroy

Daughter, Judy

Jane, his wife

[suctioning]

[humming]

Oh, good morning, Tweeter.

[whistling]

[coughing]

There's that cough again.

Polly want a gas mask? [dings]

- [whistles, coughs]

- I'll bet it's the smog.

Up we go.

[snoring]

[Roise whirring]

Well, now we've gotten rid of the smog,

let's get of the snoring.

[grumbling]

Up and at 'em, Mr J.

Oh! Ah! Ehh!

Oh, why did you have to wake me?

I was dreaming about sleeping.

- [beeping]

- [whirring]

[screaming]

[grunting]

[laughing]

[yawns, smacks lips]

[beeping]

Mornin', Rosie.

What's for breakfast?

Orange juice, eggs, bacon,

toast with marmalade and coffee.

- How do you want your eggs? [beeps]

- Skip the eggs.

[Rosie] Watching your cholesterol,

eh, Mr J? Say, "Ahh."

Ahh.

[gulps] Mm.

You burned the toast.

- Have a good day, Dad.

- You too, Elroy.

- Uh, Dad?

- Yeah, Son?

You're coming to my spaceball game

today, aren't you?

It's the tournament semi-finls.

Sure, Elroy.

I wouldn't miss it for the universe.

- Starts at 4.00.

- I'll be there.

- I love you, Dad.

- Love you, Judy.

Uh, Dad? Uh, there's a dance

at school this afternoon.

- That's nice, dear.

- Oh, thanks, Dad.

You're outergalactic.

Yeah, I'm out of money too.

- Bye, darling.

- [Astro blabbering]

Astro!

So I forgot to say goodbye.

[garbled dog-speak] I love you, George.

I know, I know. I love you too.

[beeping, whirring]

[screeching]

Oh, no, not again.

[honking]

This is Rocket Rick, your Dees

drive-time digital top-ten DJ.

And here's the morning traffic advisory

for all of you poor drones

who have to do this every day.

[both] Turn around, go home

and go back to bed.

Very funny. Now let's have it straight

or I'm gonna be late again.

OK, here it is straight,

just for you.

The skyway's backed up from the 101

to the 202 and the 303.

- Get off and head for the 404.

- [beeping]

404, right.

[Rocket Rick] Oh, too late.

The 404 is jammed.

I know. I know.

It's time for the Jetson traffic-beater.

Inflate-a-Cop.

[laughing] I hate to be this sneaky,

but my job's on the line.

[siren noise]

[laughs] My siren's

getting better every day.

[siren continues]

[siren slows]

Roo... roo-roo-roo...

Roo...

Rooh-oh. [chuckles nervously]

Too bad, George.

Traffic school begins next Saturday.

In the meantime,

here's one just for you.

[Steve McClintock and Garm Beall:

Gotcha]

[music pitch gets higher]

[humming, beeping]

[blows]

George Jetson reporting, to say whatever

it is I do, I just did it again.

[female computer voice]

You certainly did, George.

What's our old penny-pinching,

pea-headed president up to today?

Mr Spacely is meeting with the board

of directors for the entire day.

Thank you. This is George Jetson

signing off for the entire day. Ahh.

[Spacely] And so I guarantee

to reverse the... [clears throat]

...slight downside

of our profit picture...

...with the newest development

of sprockets and spindles.

It had better be good, Spacely.

- It's better than good. It's cheap.

- [all] Ahh!

And that means... higher profits.

More money for you

and, of course, for me.

Gentlemen and woman,

I present to you a holographic model

of our most top-secret project,

the Spacely Sprocket and Spindle

Orbiting ore Asteroid

Manufacturing Plant Unlimited.

This plant will produce Spacely

sprockets and spindles

at one-tenth

of what it costs dawn here.

Yeah, when it's working.

I, uh, beg your pardon?

According to my reports,

this space station

has worked a grand total

of theree days in the last six months.

- What?! Three days?

- This is an outrage!

- What's going on here?

- [stammers] That's because

we've had leadership probles.

Yeah, my feeling exactly.

I mean leadership on the asteroid.

But everything is going smoothly now

with new Vice President

Alexander Throttlebottom in charge.

Soon, we will produce our one millionth

Spacely sprocket in outer space.

[all] Spacely! Spacely!

Spacely! Spacely!

Ooh, it's so nice to be loved.

Mr Spacely, you have a call.

I hate it when you

interrupt my ovations.

It's important.

[whispers] We've lost another one.

What?!

[beeping]

Rudy 2, how could this happen?

He ran away, sir,

same as the other three.

I think he got scared and just left.

That weasel, Throttlebottom,

I knew I couldn't rely on him.

At least the plant's

still running, right?

Wrong, it's been sabotaged again.

[fizzling]

And I can't tell who

or what's behind it.

Well, fix it! I can't make profits

if you're not making sprockets.

Fine, but I'm not pushing that button.

But the Orbiting Ore Asteroid can't work

without someone to push the button.

I'll make you a vice president, Rudy 2.

Forget it. We've lost

four vice presidents. It's not worth it.

I'll give you a ra... raise.

No button.

What'll I do? What'll I do?

I can lick this problem. But how?

Think, Spacely, think.

First, I need a replacement

for that Throttlebottom. But who?

Gertrude!

- Yes, Mr Spacely?

- Take a problem.

- Need, one...

- [beeping]

...a worker who's total loyalty

is to Spacely Sprockets.

And, of course, to me, president,

CEO and all-around sweetie pie.

Two, someone expendable.

[bell dings]

Very funny. Theree, someone

- who will work for peanuts.

- [elephant trumpets]

Four, not too bright.

And five, someone

who can push a button.

That's it.

OK, OK, what have you got?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes