Tripping The Rift: The Movie Page #2

Just a minute.

That's not a word.

It is so.

Really?

Use it in a sentence.

My authority kanot

be questioned.

Otherwise, a certain robot's

gonna get his fairy ass

carted off to the scrap heap!

Well, now that I

hear it in a sentence.

Hey, where you going?

We have to keep an eye

on you at all times.

Please!

I'm just going to

the powder room,

and it ain't to take a powder.

Somebody go with her. T'nuk.

- Everything come out okay in there?

- Kick the door in!

How is she?

Remember those pretty earrings I

admired on the princess earlier?

Well, there's not

a scratch on them.

Holy sh*t!

We gotta get out of here!

If the princess' subjects

find out she's been murdered,

we'll all be executed.

Executed?

Uncle Chode, is it true?

Are we doomed?

Well, if you want to see

the glass as half empty.

Technically...

Chode! Really!

Bob, I need you to lock

into our coordinates

and beam us back on board.

- No can do, El Capitan.

- What do you mean?

I kind of shorted out the

beaming device with a fork.

You should have

never left me alone!

Geez, how the hell

did that happen?

Well, I was trying to beam my

raisin toast out of the toaster

with the transporter

beam and a fork.

Why, for Christ's sake?

Because my toast was

stuck in the toaster.

We're toast, Uncle Chode!

Geez, I'm surrounded

by f***ing morons!

Look, if we could find out

who killed the princess,

maybe they'll go easy on us.

Everybody, grab the rest of her.

Hey, you better not be doing

anything weird in there.

Primary social Protocol: a) I'm fine;

b) I'll be out in a minute

c) My Penis is caught in the bedspring

My penis is caught

in the bedsprings.

Okay. That's all right, then.

Geez, whoever said "Die young

and leave a beautiful corpse"

- never met this stiff.

- Chode, what do we do now?

We gather every

shred of evidence,

pore over every clue,

go to any extreme necessary

to determine the perp's identity.

What is it?

It's a short, curly purple hair of

some sort. Probably the killer's.

Or your own pubic hair, dumb ass!

That's another theory

that deserves exploring.

Princess! Princess!

Princess, it's almost time

for your noon appearance.

Mein gott!

What has happened to the princess?

After a battery

of sophisticated tests,

I've determined she

died of natural causes.

But she's been cut to ribbons!

Well, I mean, after

that, naturally, she died.

For all our sakes,

no one must find out!

I need time to sink.

Your Majesty?

God damn it!

I needed more time than that!

It's noon, Your Highness.

Time for you to greet

your loyal subjects.

This is not time to fall

apart, Your Highness.

Your public awaits.

Pull yourself together.

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