NOW, THAT'S WHAT I CALL LIQUID ASSETS.
MAELLARD, OLD BOY,
EVENT OF THE SEASON.
EH, IT'S OKAY, BUT NO
SHEET CAKE IN THE WORLD!
OOH!
WHOO-HOO!
HOW MUCH IT COSTS,
AT THE FROSTING.
RIGBY!
AAH! AAH!
ARRH!
WHAT? I'LL BUY YOU A NEW CAKE.
SCREWED UP THIS TIME!
HOLD ON, NOW, BENSON.
FOR THIS AS HE DOES.
YOU ARE HIS MANAGER.
IT'S TRUE, BENSON. I TOLD YOU I NEEDED A NAP.
UP ALL NIGHT, PLAYING VIDEO GAMES!
ENOUGH!
RIGBY'S A SCREW-UP, BUT,
AT THE TOP.
SO HERE'S WHAT'S
ONE OF YOU
RESIGNATION BY 5:00.
OFFICE UNTIL IT'S DONE
AND IF YOU CAN'T WORK IT OUT, YOU'RE BOTH FIRED!
I NEEDED TODAY.
FIRST, MY CAR BREAKS DOWN AND I HAVE TO GET A RIDE FROM MY DAD.
AND NOW THIS.
ALL RIGHT, RIGBY, STOP PLAYING AROUND AND WRITE THAT LETTER.
WHY SHOULD I WRITE IT? DIDN'T YOU HEAR?
IT WAS YOUR FAULT,
'CAUSE YOU MISMANAGED ME.
COME ON, RIGBY. WE BOTH KNOW THIS IS YOUR FAULT.
NOT NOW, BENSON. I'M READING UP
TECHNIQUES.
THERE'S SOME GOOD STUFF IN HERE.
HEY! I WAS READING THAT!
WHY CAN'T YOU TAKE ANYTHING SERIOUSLY?
WHY ARE YOU SO UPTIGHT?
AAH! AAH!
WHAT'S GOING ON IN HERE? - RIGBY, SIR —
BENSON'S BEING A — - GIVE ME THAT!
THIS ISN'T PARTY TIME.
AND, IF I HAVE TO COME BACK IN HERE, I'M BUSTING HEADS.
I'M NOT WRITIN' THAT LETTER.
RIGBY, DON'T YOU MAKE ME COME OUT THERE!
UGH!
RIGBY!
OUT OF THE ROOM, WE'RE DEAD.
WELL, THEN, GO BACK, SO YOU DON'T GET CAUGHT.
THAT'S IT, RIGBY.
- OH, SHOOT.
RIGBY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE?
NOW, BENSON.
OH, HEY, BENSON. - HMM.
WAS GONNA FIRE YOU.
PSSH! MAELLARD'S JUST BLUFFING.
BUT, PAPá, YOU CAN'T FIRE BOTH OF THEM!
AAH! Shh!
We got to get outta here.
IS YOUR OFFICE?
UH... DOWN THERE!
AH! SO ANGRY AT THOSE TWO.
I THINK I'LL JUST STARE
FOR A FEW LONG MINUTES.
NAH, ON SECOND THOUGHT, I BETTER CHECK IN ON THEM.
OH, YEAH!
AH! AAH!
RIGBY, GIVE ME A HAND.
RIGBY! AH.
RIGBY! WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS?
UH, THE DOOR WAS STUCK. I WAS TRYING TO HELP.
YOU KNOW, OLD HOUSE.
BENSON?
UH, YEAH, IT DOES THAT SOMETIMES.
THE DOOR... STICKS.
RIGHT NOW?
WHAT IS THIS CALLED?
IT'S CALLED BEING ALIVE.
OH. WELL, THANKS FOR HELPING ME.
NO PROBLEM.
OHH, WHAT AM I GONNA DO?
THIS JOB IS MY LIFE.
OKAY, TELL YOU WHAT — IF YOU WRITE THE LETTER,
I'LL WRITE YOU A STELLAR
FOR YOUR NEXT JOB.
YEAH, BENSON, I'LL THINK ABOUT IT,
BUT I CAN'T THINK ON AN EMPTY STOMACH.
YOU'RE NOT GONNA EAT THOSE WINGS COLD, ARE YOU?
GEEZ, BENSON, YOU'RE EVEN UPTIGHT
ABOUT HOW TO EAT HOT WINGS.
YOU'LL DO A LOT BETTER AT YOUR NEXT JOB,
LOOSEN UP A BIT.
GIVE ME THAT!
HEY!
BENSON, WAIT!
WHERE ARE WE GOING?
THE KITCHEN, RIGBY.
WE'RE GONNA COOK THESE WINGS.
BUT I'M FINE WITH EATING THEM COLD.
WE'RE BETTER THAN THAT.
I'M NOT.
Looks like the coast is clear.
OOF!
WE'RE JUST GONNA REHEAT 'EM AND THEN GO, RIGHT?
YEAH. I'LL LOOK OUT FOR MAELLARD.
NOW, WHERE'S THE PAPRIKA?
ARE YOU — PAPRIKA? ARE YOU KIDDING?
GONNA REHEAT 'EM AND GO!
Uh, that's what I'm doing!
The Benson way.
WHAT ARE YOU SINGING?
"MICROWAVE WINGS," OFF OF "COURNOTOPIA,"
HAIR TO THE THRONE'S RECIPE CONCEPT ALBUM.
ON THE ADULT CONTEMPORARY,
PROG-ROCK, SOFT-METAL CHARTS.
NEVER HEARD OF IT.
MAN, GOOD TUNE.
WEIRD BRIDGE, THOUGH.
THEY'RE COMING!
IT'S GOT TO COOK
FOR 90 SECONDS, AND NOT ONE SECOND LESS!
I'M BAILING!
OUTTA MY WAY! OOF! YICH!
COME ON. COME ON.
BENSON, DON'T BE STUPID.
MY SHIRT'S STILL GOT STAINS ON IT.
DUHUR!
AHH...
RIGHT OUT.
NOW, WHERE DID I PUT IT?
HMM...
AH, IT'S PROBABLY IN THE PANTRY.
POPS, WHEN'S THE LAST TIME THIS KITCHEN WAS REMODELED?
AAH-AH-AH!
HUH?
I MEAN, AAH, AAH, AAH-HT SEVEN.
'07.
AHF!
I LIKE IT SO MUCH.
CLAS-SIC!
NOW, LET'S SEE.
CLUB SODA, CLUB SODA.
CLUB SODA. ALLEY-OOP!
DID YOU SAY SOMETHING?
OH, A-HA HA HA!
CALISTHENICS, FATHER.
AHA! GETTING STRONG, EH?
YOUR OLD MAN?
PFFT! PFFT! PFFT! PFFT!
NO-O-O-O!
GOOD.
AGAIN.
DUDE, THAT WAS AWESOME!
WELL...?
YOU'RE RIGHT.
THESE ARE WAY BETTER!
TOLD YA.
BENSON, WHAT ARE YOU ANXIOUS ABOUT?
HO-HO.
AWKWARD SILENCES, AIRPLANE TOILETS,
SILVERFISH, DO I HAVE ANY LIBRARY BOOKS OUT?
THAT GUM I LIKE?
WHERE I'M FLAILING IN A FUTURELESS VOID.
MY FATHER'S THERE.
HE'S LAUGHING AT ME.
WOW, YOU'RE PRETTY MESSED UP.
MY DAD, HE WAS ALWAYS LIKE,
"YOUR BROTHER DON IS SO AMAZING.
A SCREW-UP, RIGBY."
I DON'T EVEN UNDERSTAND
I DO THE THINGS I DO.
I'M EXPECTED TO BE A CLOWN, SO I'M A CLOWN.
BUT CLOWNS CRY, TOO, MAN.
CLOWNS CRY, TOO.
FOR BEING IN THAT BAND.
"WAKE UP!
YOU DON'T HAVE ANY TALENT!
GET A REAL JOB!"
"DRUMMING'S MY LIFE, DAD!
FOREVAH!"
AFTER SIX MONTHS,
WITH A DRUM MACHINE.
HE WAS RIGHT.
WORKING HERE,
WHERE I'LL PROBABLY BE UNTIL I DIE.
"HERE LIES SOME UPTIGHT PARK MANAGER."
DON'T SAY THAT.
YOU'RE MORE THAN THAT!
THANKS, MAN.
AND YOU'RE MORE
MESSES THINGS UP.
IT'S ALMOST 5:00.
WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO?
I'LL DO IT. FOR ONCE,
I'LL TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR MY ACTIONS.
NO, I'LL BE FIRED.
FOR ONCE, I'LL HAVE A SPINE AND CHANGE MY LIFE.
WHERE ARE THEY?
"DEAR MR. MAELLARD, WE ACCEPT THAT WE MESSED UP.
BUT YOU'RE CRAZY
WRITE A RESIGNATION LETTER.
YOU SEE US AS YOU WANT TO SEE US.
IN THE SIMPLEST TERMS,
YOU SEE US AS AN ANGRY, UPTIGHT BOSS..."
- "AN IRRESPONSIBLE SLACKER."
"A GUY WHO HAS NO FUN."
- "A GUY WHO HAS TOO MUCH FUN."
"A GUY WHO'S ESTRANGED FROM HIS FATHER."
DAD, WE NEVER TALK.
"SO, IF ONE OF US RESIGNS FROM YOUR PRECIOUS PARK,
WE BOTH RESIGN.
DOES THAT ANSWER YOUR QUESTION?
SINCERELY, THE LUNCH CLUB.
P.S. SHOVE IT, YOU DECREPIT OLD FART."
AH, IT'S NO USE.
I CAN'T READ THIS AT ALL.
POPS! READ THIS FOR ME.
I CAN'T FIND MY GLASSES.
UM, IT SAYS,
"WE LOVE THE PARK AND DON'T WANT TO BE FIRED.
WE'RE SORRY. LOVE, BENSON AND RIGBY.
P.S." AH-HUVVV!
NICE THINGS!
WELL, WHAT A LOVELY LETTER!
THEY SAID AT THE END.
I FORGIVE THEM.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS THINKING.
THE WHOLE DYNAMIC HERE.
A BENSON OR A RIGBY?
HEH HEH. WHERE, INDEED? HEH HEH.
HA!