Test of Friendship/Transcript

< Pooh's Adventures of Biker Mice from Mars

(Karbunkle, Limburger, and Greasepit drive up to a railroad station, and Greasepit is looking through Limburger's trunk for a specific weapon.)

Karbunkle: Will you hurry, you misapplied misenthrope?!

(Greasepit trips over Karbunkle's leg and stumbles around with the weapon.)

Karbunkle: Be careful, you dimwitted disaster! That's a delicate instrument!

(Greasepit falls down and the weapon lands in its desired spot.)

Greasepit: There! Delicately placed right where you's wanted it!

Karbunkle: Ugh! Greasy-fingered gibbon!

(He turns on the device and an eerie blue glow surrounds the weapon. Grease Pit stares at it as Limburger gets out of his car.)

Lawrence Limburger: If you pathetic paltroons have concluded your little display of ineptitude... (train whistle) ...the ore train appears to be on time.

Greasepit: Huh?

(He slides into the glow and half of his body is seen viewing a 5,000-foot drop into the Plutark Supply Station. Limburger pulls him out.)

Greasepit: Aaaah!

Lawrence Limburger: My dear, seqious Greasepit, if I had wanted you in orbit, I'D HAVE KICKED YOU THERE MYSELF! Now go man that switch!

(Limburger kicks Greasepit towards a control switch. Greasepit hits it and the track moves slightly.)

Greasepit: Whoa. Good job, huh, boss?

(He proceeds to fall down elsewhere after struggling to move the switch and finally move it so that the track heads for the glow.)

Karbunkle: Yet another ingenious plan, your cream cheesiness!

Lawrence Limburger: Yes! Why soil ourselves digging when I can simply steal a whole train load of iron ore? That train will enter the transport tunnel and be instantly transported into space for delivery to Plutark.

(As he says this, he tosses a rock into the glow.)

Lawrence Limburger: A brilliant plan if I do say so myself. It simply can't fail!

(Greasepit's view catches a glimpse of the Biker Mice and heroes.)

Greasepit: Uh, boss?

Lawrence Limburger: Not now, dear boy. I'm enjoying myself!

Greasepit: That brilliant plan of yours?

Limburger: Yes, what of it?

Greasepit: It just got infested WITH MICE!

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Limburger: Greasepit, if you would please, FIRE ON THEM!