♪ Kick, kick, kick, kick, kick
♪ kick buttowski, buttowski
♪ kick
♪ kick buttowski
♪ kick, kick, kick
♪ kick buttowski
♪ kick, kick, kick, kick
♪ kick
♪ kick buttowski
♪ kick buttowski! ♪
(blows) putting on all this stuff is hard work!
I'm feeling the burn-izzle.
This calls for a body-bump.
Suh-weet.
(sniffs) hey! Were you eating chocolate without me?
No! Yeah, you did.
Enough!
To the sauna!
Sauna! Sauna!
Sauna!
Now, let's show these weights how we do it in west mellowbrook.
Hey-hey! (strains)
Shove!
(groaning)
One!
Whoa!
Whew!
Gaspy! Weight gainer goo!
(both grunting)
The spa, it's glued shut.
Oh, no! We could shrink to death!
No!
My beautiful hair!
Gordie needs help!
But so do we.
Both: Gordie, help and junk!
The gibs doesn't do helping!
I pay you goons to help me!
We've been abandoned.
Abandoned-izzle!
Whoa!
Aw, biscuits!
Help! We're stuck and junk!
I can feel myself shrinking already.
(buzzer sounds) (air whooshing)
Both: We're free.
Buttowski! You saved us.
What a class act type you is.
Yeah, yeah. Whatever!
Michael anthony: Wait.
We got to repay youse,
As demanded by our code of meathead justice.
Huh?
From now on, we're your goons. And you'll be our gordie.
How about you just stick with the original?
Yeah. I'm the og! Original gordie.
Now get over here and wash my hair, you worthless goons!
No way, gibble. We're done-zo with you.
You let us down in our time of need.
What? You're leaving me?
For buttowski? Fine!
You were lucky to be my goons.
I can find a million replacements.
I don't need you!
Gordie is right, guys.
You're supposed to be his goons, not mine.
I don't think you understand, kick.
We're indebted to you now.
You're our new gordie!
I don't need you!
(both scoff)
And to celebrate, it's time for a makeover montage.
No!
(upbeat synth music playing)
(grunts)
Guys, i'm not doing this.
I already have a wingman.
Kick?
Gunther? What have you done?
No, gunther, you don't understand. I...
(sobbing)
(sighs)
Gunther, you've got to help me.
These goons have been following me around all day.
Gunther: Is it really that bad, kick?
You have no idea.
Can i please have a little privacy?
Gunther, i have to get rid of them.
Oh, thank goodness. I was hoping you'd say that.
These two are unbearable.
I've got to find some way to get rid of these guys.
How? With secret voodoo mind control powers you never told me about?
I saved their lives...
Hi.
So, now they've got to save mine!
Hiya, kick.
We's watching you!
Exactly as planned.
Shove!
Anthony michael! Michael anthony! Help!
I'm having trouble with my everyday stunting ways!
I said, help!
Help! I'm heading right for that
Out-of-control construction machine.
Uh-oh! I am out of control!
Oh, no! Kick buttowski is in trouble!
We must save him and junk!
Dipazzi twins activate!
'Kay.
(vocalizing)
(yelling) out of here, reckless driver type!
We gots to stop this thing!
(stuttering) i think we use these stick-shaped-like levers.
(sniffs)
(gasps) were you eating chocolate without me?
No!
What?
(crashing)
You saved us again, kick!
Yeah! We's double indebted to you now!
(sighs)
Oh, no! I think i have a dumpling stuck in my windpipe.
(fakes choking)
Oh, no! Kick's choking!
Kick's choking!
(both choking)
We is choking now, too!
(sighs)
You saved us again, buttowski.
Yeah! Now we's triple indebted to you.
When's dessert?
Kick: Help! Help! I can't swim.
Both: Kick's in trouble!
Help! Help! Save me!
I'll save him. No, i'll save him.
No, i'll save him.
Both: Let's save him together.
(splashing)
Michael anthony: Wait a minute! We can't swim!
Yeah! I'm drowning. Help us!
(grunting) i'm going down! Help us, kick.
You saved us again, buttowski.
Yeah, now we's fourple indebted to you.
You must really like us.
I really hate them.
It's impossible to get them to save my life.
They're too meat-headed.
Too bad someone else can't save their lives.
Then their meatball justice would make them indebted to that poor sap.
Gunther, you're a genius!
And i know just the sap.
Gordie? Where are you, gordie?
(gordie groaning)
Okay, gordie, i'm done being the new you.
I'm gonna help you save the twins,
So their code will make things go back to the way they were.
What makes you think i want things to go back the way they were?
Oh, i don't know.
Maybe it's 'cause you're lying in the fetal position covered in filth.
(sobbing) i miss my goons so much!
I just can't live without them!
Quit blubbering. I've got an idea, gordie.
We have to recreate the original sauna goo incident
That got us into this mess in the first place.
I'll make them think they're trapped.
And all you have to do is come to their rescue and press the button.
Got it?
How? I'm not as awesome as you!
I didn't say that!
Okay, gordie.
But if you want them back, we're gonna have to partner up!
And you do everything i say!
Okay. Deal!
Ugh! Gee! Let's just get the job done!
Yeah, no one said we got to be best friends. Sheesh!
Great! Now, i can get rid of this disgusting alley
I had built for me to wallow in.
Both: Crunch, crunch, crunch!
Okay, boys, time to hit the sauna.
Both: Oh, boy! Sauna time!
Sauna! Sauna!
Hey, buttowski!
You need help... Picking up that...
Weight gainer goo?
Oops!
Uh-oh. I got goo on your sauna.
You're probably trapped again.
(gasps) now, i, too, am trapped.
Won't someone save us? Perhaps someone named gordie.
I said, perhaps someone named gordie!
You gonna press that button or not?
Gibs ain't touching no goo!
Oh, give me a break.
(twins screaming)
That sauna's on wheels!
Come on, gordie. We've got to save the twins.
But the gibs does not do... Come on!
(twins screaming)
I'll steer, you reach for the button.
(shrieking)
I'll take that petrified blubbering as a yes.
Now, gordie! Press the button.
(shrieking)
(boat horn blowing)
We're heading for the bridge!
Press the button!
(shrieking)
Press the button!
(all shrieking)
(shouting) press the button!
Hey, look, the gib pressed the button.
Gordie! You saved us!
What a class act type you is!
Wow, gordie! You saved their lives!
Both: Our meathead justice is served!
Which means you're gonna leave me alone, right?
Duh! Darn right they're gonna leave you alone!
Right, guys?
Both: Yeah!
Youse want us to paste his ugly mug?
Not today, boys.
So long, buttowski.
Man, glad that's over.
Jackie: Hi, truck! Hi!
(horn blowing)
Jackie, look out!
Kick, you saved me!
Due to my sworn code of wacky justice,
I will never leave your side!
What if you save my life?
Ha! That would make sense,
But wacky justice has absolutely no logic to it whatsoever!
So, i'm yours forever.
(purring)
Aw, biscuits.
Kick: Even i don't know about this one, gunther.
Gunther: Ah, don't worry, kick. It'll be perfectly...
(exploding)
Fine.
What's going on in here?
I'm sorry, dad. It was a food accident.
(muffled) like all my accidents.
No matter! As long as my viking meat-slicer okay.
Bwar! My beautiful viking meat-slicer! No! No! No!
Battlesnax salted meats festival is tomorrow!
Oh, no! Kick, that's our yearly celebration of
Thin-sliced deli meats!
Christmas for cold cuts, prom for pastrami,
Liverwurst day for corned beef!
Can't you just get a new slicer?
Only place that sells one sharp enough is
Bwar-mart. (ominous horn blowing)
Bwar-mart? The epic viking department store of legend?
But they say it drives men mad!
It all-you-can-devour meatball buffet is so delicious,
No mortal can resist its siren song.
Or its tangy lingonberry dipping sauce.
What my dad means is their meatballs are too powerful.
But you're magnus.
You wrestled 10 rabid oxen at once and lived to tell the tale.
It can't be that bad.
It is.
A return to bwar-mart, i can't face.
For i cannot resist their meatballs,
And once i eat one, i can't stop.
We must cancel salted meats festival.
You don't have to cancel. We'll go for you.
Yeah! We're gonna get that new slicer ourselves.
We won't be lured in by their meatballs,
Or their tangy dipping sauce.
For dad! And for salted meats!
Both: Bwar!
Remember! Don't eat the meatballs.
(shouting) don't eat the meatballs!
(thunder crashing)
Welcome to bwar-mart!
That's a lot of steps.
Remember, gunther, for salted meats!
(grunts) we made it!
(dinging)
Biscuits.
All right, gunther. Stay focused.
We go in, grab the slicer and get out.
Agreed? Agreed.
Wow! This place sells everything!
(echoing)
(humming)
(cannon fires)
(humming nonchalantly)
How do you get one of those home?
Easy! It all comes in pieces you fashion together.
It's how we keep our "ragnarok bottom" prices!
I'm lars, the manager.
Meatball?
Wait, kick. Remember what my dad said?
(shouting) "don't eat the meatballs!"
Oh, there's nothing to worry about.
Just some harmlessly delectable
Bite-size savory balls of meat.
(sniffing deeply)
(blows)
Well, just one couldn't hurt, right?
Right.
Uh-uh. Not without the impossibly specific assembly tool,
Known amongst vikings as a snarflungazun.
Chorus: ♪ snarflungazun! ♪
Nothing in this store can be assembled without it.
Mmm.
It's like "delicious" and "meat" had a baby and named it "mmm."
If you'd like more,
Check out our all-you-can-devour meatball buffet.
(both gasp)
It's a good thing we're not hungry.
Yeah, otherwise we might be lured in by those meatballs.
And that tangy dipping sauce.
(stomachs gurgling)
This place is great. (muffled) oh, yeah.
But we should probably get that slicer now.
Man: (on pa) attention, bwar-mart shoppers.
The time's 7:00 p.M. The store is now closed.
Oh, no! Kick, the store's closed.
And we didn't even get the slicer.
Relax, gunther, closed or not,
We aren't leaving until we find that slicer.
You are right, kick,
Salted meats are depending on us.
Well, they'll have to wait because you two are not going anywhere.
Both: Lars!
According to bwar-mart law,
Anyone within our walls after 7:00 p.M.
Becomes property of the store!
What do you mean, "property"?
You're now my employees
(shouting) for life!
No, we came here to get a slicer,
And save the salted meats festival.
And we are gonna leave here with one or my name isn't...
Pre-assembled meatballs?
Ah, don't mind if i do. Why, thank you.
Wait a second. You're using these meatballs as a trap.
Well, we're not falling for it.
Too late.
Holy meatballs, kick! Nametags! Run!
Employees, after them!
(crickets chirping)
(all gasping)
(all shouting)
Follow my lead, gunther.
(electricity crackling)
(both screaming)
(all yelling)
Lars: Keep your eyes peeled, boys.
I know they're here somewhere.
We're almost clear.
(rumbling)
What was that?
Sorry, kick, lingonberry gas.
Well, keep it under control.
You'll blow our cover.
It's no use, kick. My butt, it's gonna...
(loud explosion)
(both screaming) (loud crash)
(lars laughing)
No one escapes bwar-mart!
Employees, fashion your weapons!
(all grunting)
Employees, attack!
Kick: Wait! Employees of bwar-mart,
We want to help you!
Lars is your real enemy!
Join us and we can all escape together!
To freedom!
(weak cough)
I've got meatballs.
(all yelling)
Biscuits!
Head for the ax aisle.
(glass shattering)
Fire!
Kick!
(screaming in slow motion) no!
Gunther!
You okay? I'll live.
All: Bwar!
There are too many of them. Follow me.
You can't escape.
(gunther straining)
You're surrounded. (evil laugh)
Now, give up! Kick: Never!
We came here for a slicer,
And we won't leave without it.
You're never leaving.
We've got the higher ground.
And you'll never get the drop on us.
(loud crash)
Victory! You're mine!
Now, for rebelling,
I will start you on this store's lowest detail,
(shouting) cleaning the bathroom near the meatball bar!
(all gasping)
I've seen things in there no man should ever see.
(ratcheting)
What?
How did you assemble that ship?
Kick: Easy, lars!
Chorus: ♪ snarflungazun! ♪
Your days as a meatball enslaver
Are all washed up.
(all screaming)
Employees! Join us and be free!
Even you, guy who threw a sewing machine at my head!
But the meatballs! I live for them!
We're headed to the battlesnax salted meats festival!
(all cheering)
(screaming)
Can't forget this.
A new slicer.
Lars: Come back!
(yelling) kick: I hope my credit is good!
All: (chanting) salted meats!
Salted meats!
Sorry, festival canceled.
This year, meat go uncelebrated.
(all groaning) (loud rumble)
(all cheering)
A new slicer.
The salted meats festival is saved!
We shall slice meat thinner than ever
And eat till our sweat smells of pimento and ham!
All: Bwar!
All right, let's open this bad boy up.
Huh?
Some assembly required.
(metal clanging)
Well, at least, you still have the snarflungazun.
Right, kick? Right, gunther.
I, uh...
You lost the snarflungazun?
Kick, do you know what that means?
Both: Back to bwar-mart!
All: (chanting) bwar! Bwar! Bwar! Bwar!
Lars: You want the meatball.
You can't resist its tangy lingonberry dipping sauce.