The Twits (2025)
Director: Phil Johnston
Screenplay: Phil Johnston, Meg Favreau
Based on: The Twits by Roald Dahl
Stars: Margo Martindale (Mrs. Twit), Johnny Veg((Mr. Twit), Natalie Portman (Mary Muggle-Wump), Emilia Clarke (Pippa), Maitreyi Ramakrishnan (Beesha), Ryan Lopez (Bubsy), Jason Mantzouk (Mayor Wayne John John-John), Timothy Simons (Marty Muggle-Wump), Alan, Tudyk (Sweet Toed Toad), Nicole Byer (Beverly Onion), Mark Proksch (Horvis Dungle), Rebecca Wisocky (Dee Dumdie-Dungle), Charlie Berens (Gorb Klurb)
Released on October 17, 2025, by Netflix.
Plot: Mr. and Mrs. Twit, the meanest, smelliest, nastiest people in the world, own and operate the most disgusting, dangerous, and idiotic amusement park in the world: Twitlandia. When the Twits rise to power in their town, two brave children – Beesha and Bubsy – and a family of magical Muggle-Wumps, are forced to become as tricky as the Twits in order to save the city.
* * *
There’s always been something rotten in The Twits, and that’s what made it so delicious. Roald Dahl’s disgust was never tidy. He wrote from a place that stank of breakfast beer and spite, and The Twits — born out of a hatred for beards — was his little masterpiece of filth. It was about two people who made cruelty a lifestyle choice, and he served it up for children as a lesson in how grotesque adults could be when left alone with their appetites. The pleasure of it was tactile. You could feel the worms in the spaghetti, smell the sour trick of a glass eye sinking into beer. Dahl’s books weren’t moral tales so much as warnings wrapped in laughter, and The Twits was his dirtiest.
Now it’s been scrubbed and pixelated by Netflix, turned into something meant to be both revolting and safe — like a garbage-scented candle. Phil Johnston, who made his name on the bright, frictionless optimism of Zootopia, has directed it with the kind of confidence that suggests he’s never known the pleasure of real mess. This version of The Twits feels as if every smudge has been pre-approved, every bit of grime tested for palatability. It’s still gross — Margo Martindale and Johnny Vegas voice the nasty pair with glorious, mucusy vigor — but it’s the kind of grossness you can pause to check your phone through. Dahl’s original was intimate in its disgust; this one is performative.
The movie moves the story to the present day, as if cruelty were something that required modernization. The Twits, now aspiring theme-park moguls, plan to open a festering wonderland of unsanitary rides and fetid bouncy castles — a perfect metaphor for what modern studios think kids want. The textures are all there, but the spirit is gone. It’s a parody of nastiness. The Twits’ world should reek of sweat and neglect; instead, it looks like someone ran “dirt” through a rendering engine. You can sense the movie flinching from its own filth.
This is what happens when studios try to turn anarchy into product. Dahl’s grotesque charm came from a sense of danger — you didn’t know what horror might crawl out of the next sentence. Here, every grotesque is story-boarded, color-balanced, smoothed out for streaming consumption. There’s an assumption that children must be protected from the very sensations Dahl wanted them to feel: the laughter that makes you wince, the recognition that adults can be stupid and cruel. Instead of moral confusion, Netflix gives us moral instruction, complete with two shiny new orphans — Beesha and Bubsy — whose names sound like placeholders that accidentally made it to the final script.
The film wants to have it both ways: revel in the grime while apologizing for it. Its ugliness isn’t liberating, it’s defensive. Even the animation looks conflicted, somewhere between a bad dream and a cutscene from a forgotten PlayStation game. You can almost hear the reasoning: “Let’s make it ugly, but in a charming way.” The result isn’t charming or ugly. It’s nervous. The whole film jitters, afraid of offending, afraid of being real. When Disney does polish, it feels like control; when Netflix does grit, it feels like marketing.
Still, some energy leaks through the cracks. Johnston’s film, for all its glossy cowardice, stumbles into something it probably didn’t mean to say — something about the politics of filth. The Twits, in their squalid empire, start campaigning to “make Triperot fun again,” and suddenly the film’s ugliness takes on a very American shape. Their little dystopia, filled with citizens who’ve forgotten how to see or think, becomes a satire of the past decade’s populist delirium. The townspeople rally around the Twits, convinced that their new amusement park — a sludge pit of nostalgia — will restore lost greatness. It’s played for laughs, but the echo is unmistakable. You can hear the chant bleeding through the dialogue.
What’s startling isn’t that a children’s movie has politics — it’s that it hits the note so directly. The people of Triperot, blind and bored, fall in love with their own humiliation. They cheer the grotesque couple who promise renewal while selling decay. The movie suddenly becomes less about worms and more about the psychology of mass delusion. You see the kids, Beesha and Bubsy, looking at the adults in disbelief, and the whole thing feels like a mirror held up to a culture that stopped noticing the smell. The story, meant as slapstick, starts vibrating with recognition.
For a few minutes, the film actually breathes. The Twits’ meanness stops being an act of comic rebellion and becomes a form of civic rot. Their plan isn’t funny anymore; it’s familiar. You realize that Dahl’s grotesques have been reborn as our populists, their cruelty rebranded as authenticity. When they talk about bringing joy back to Triperot, they sound like candidates on the campaign trail, all conviction and no conscience. The satire slips in sideways — the way the best ones do — until you realize it’s not satire anymore.
And that’s the strange, accidental brilliance of the movie: it tells a truth its creators probably didn’t mean to touch. The same digital machinery that sterilized Dahl’s filth ends up reflecting the society that sterilized him. In a world obsessed with appearances, the Twits’ vulgarity feels honest. They don’t hide the rot; they market it. They’re the purest expressions of the system that tries to condemn them. The citizens’ devotion to them feels less like stupidity and more like recognition.
The voice performances do a lot of the work that the animation refuses to do. Martindale growls and purrs like a woman who’s too proud of her own bad manners; Vegas turns Mr. Twit’s slobbering idiocy into something almost tragic. Natalie Portman and Timothy Simons, voicing the captive monkeys, lend warmth and wit to what might have been mere comic relief. There are even a few fleeting visual gags — a sentient hairball here, a disgusting bounce there — that momentarily jolt the film out of its algorithmic haze. But these moments don’t add up to a personality. They’re fragments of something better, glimpses of the movie The Twits could have been if it hadn’t been so afraid to be itself.
It keeps reaching for empathy when it should settle for disgust. Dahl understood that disgust was its own moral language — that sometimes it’s the only honest reaction to human behavior. But the film, being a product of modern family entertainment, can’t stand the idea of discomfort. It keeps apologizing for its own instincts, sanding down the edges, inserting moral lessons about understanding and kindness. The result is the same kind of sentimental paralysis that infects most modern animation: the belief that ugliness must be cured instead of confronted.
And yet, by accident, the film’s self-contradiction becomes its meaning. It’s the story of a culture that can’t decide whether to clean itself up or roll around in its own garbage. The Twits, both the characters and the movie about them, are trapped between performance and sincerity, between parody and prophecy. The laughter they provoke is uneasy because it’s no longer clear who the joke is on.
The movie doesn’t end so much as trail off, as though everyone involved got nervous about what they were really saying. But by then, the damage is done. The laughter curdles. You start thinking about those crowds in Triperot, cheering while everything around them collapses. You realize you’ve seen those faces before — maybe not in an animated movie, but on television, in rallies, on social media. The Twits are only cartoons because the movie doesn’t dare admit they’re real.
There’s a perverse integrity in that confusion. The movie fails, but it fails honestly, which is rare. You can feel it struggling to keep its balance between satire and sentimentality, and you start to root for it — not because it’s good, but because it’s almost alive. Its ugliness feels earned in the end, as though the film, like its own characters, finally stopped pretending to be clean.
* * *
The Twits (2025) | Transcript
[enchanting music plays]
[music swells]
[splattering]
[music stops]
[Mr. Twit and Mrs. Twit chuckling]
[spray can rattles]
[Mrs. Twit yowls]
[Mr. Twit] Me first!
[Mr. Twit groans]
[Mrs. Twit humming]
[both struggling]
[Mr. Twit] Give it!
[crash]
[screams] Oh, nice. Lovely.
[enchanting music plays]
[woman’s voice] Once upon a time…
[both growling]
…there were two terrible twits.
[both yelping in pain]
And this is how they were left for dead.
[both wailing]
[boy’s voice] Wait, wait, wait. Stop!
[music fades] Mum, are you actually starting my bedtime story with the characters dying?
I didn’t say they were dying.
I said they were left for dead.
By who?
By whom?
By whom?
Children and a family of magical animals.
Oh.
What kind of story is this?
You keep telling me you want your bedtime stories to be more emotionally complex with, I’m quoting, “highbrow themes and lowbrow comedy.”
True. I just don’t want a boring, old, normal story.
Well, I can assure you, my love, this is no “normal story” because the Twits are not normal people.
[somber music playing]
No, the Twits hate everything, especially each other.
They’ve been married for 47 miserable years.
[screams] [laughs] And not a day has passed without a mean, dirty trick.
[coughing, gagging]
[music becomes pleasant]
The thing is, even people who hate everything love something.
For the Twits, it was a backyard amusement park called Twitlandia.
[screams]
They built Twitlandia from the ground up.
It was the one thing that brought them joy.
The one thing they truly cared about.
The one thing they wanted the whole world to see.
[upbeat music plays]
[man singing]
[man] ♪ There’s a song
And dance extravaganza ♪
♪ And rides made out of toilets ♪
This is Twitlandia!
It’s the world’s only amusement park.
[mother flea] And even if the whole world didn’t see it, the true heroes of our story, an orphan named Beesha…
Wow.
…and her best friend, Bubsy…
Whoa!
…did.
[Mrs. Twit] Come to Twitlandia’s grand opening this week.
That looks like the most…
Amazing place in the world?!
I definitely wasn’t gonna say “horrifying and lame.”
But, Beesha, it has a songanddance extravaganza and rides made out of toilets!
And who doesn’t want both of those things?
All right, Bubsy boy, I promise I’ll take you to Twitlandia before you leave me forever next week.
[pretending to sob]
[both laughing] Whoohoo!
Twitlandia!
[vehicle approaching]
[vehicle brakes squeal]
[vehicle door opens] [gasps] Oh, Jim.
[groans] Ah!
Look, it’s our first visitor!
[mother flea] But before Beesha could fulfill her promise to Bubsy…
Welcome to Twitlandia.
[grunts]
[officer] Ahem.
Hey! You can’t go in without paying!
…In fact, before the park even opened…
[Mrs. Twit] “Condemned”?
[mother flea] …the city shut Twitlandia down…
[officer grunts] What’s this?
…condemning it for being dangerous, structurally unsound, and, quote…
[Mrs. Twit] “Stinking of rancid hot dog meat”?
[sniffing]
Oh, Jim!
Huh?
The city’s…
They’re shutting down our fun park!
[gasps] [whimpers] No…
[in booming voice] No!
[dramatic music plays]
[yelling]
[music swelling]
[music peaks operatically]
[music fades]
It was as if their baby had been taken from them.
Strange baby.
Strange people.
I do like Beesha and Bubsy quite a bit, though.
Yes, well, Beesha and Bubsy are on a collision course with the Twits, who are about to play their dirtiest trick yet.
A prank that will condemn the city the way the city condemned Twitlandia.
What are they gonna do?
Make it stink of rotten hot dog meat?
Clever boy. Now, no more questions.
Just listen to the song.
Oh, is this a musical?
Of course it’s not a musical.
What am I, a cricket?
It’s one song. Settle down.
Bubsy goodbye video, take one.
And… action!
We’ll miss you, Bubsy!
[child] Bye, Bubsy.
[growls] [mellow banjo music playing]
♪ I look around at all these people ♪
♪ Nice people with their perfect lives ♪
♪ Well, they’re bored
Out of their skulls ♪
Vote for JohnJohn.
♪ Monotonous and dull ♪
♪ They do not live ♪
♪ They just survive ♪
[both] ♪ Now, we are not like
Everyone else ♪
♪ There’s nobody here
That’s like you and me ♪
♪ We’re one of a kind
And deep down inside ♪
♪ We’re the only ones out here ♪
♪ Who are free ♪
[horn blares] I think we’re set.
All right, Bubsy boy, the big day’s coming up.
Hit me with your favorite memory from the Triperot Home for Children.
Oh! That time I got a potato stuck in my nose?
[Beesha, uncertainly] Okay…
Don’t you remember, Beesh?
You made me laugh so hard that I snorted, and the potato shot out, and it landed in your milk.
And now I’m lactose intolerant by choice.
[chuckles] Okay, Harold.
Bubsy gets adopted next week.
How do you want him to remember you?
I… I… I kept the potato.
[Beesha] He kept the potato. Cool.
[banjo music continues]
♪ I promise to always surprise you ♪
♪ I promise to always be fun ♪
[Mr. Twit screams]
♪ To be bad to the bone ♪
[Mr. Twit yelps, grunts]
♪ And you can tell everyone ♪
[both] ♪ That I won’t stop
Until I’m done ♪
[screams]
♪ We’re not like everyone else ♪
♪ There’s nobody here
Just like you and me ♪
♪ We’re one of a kind
And deep down inside ♪
♪ We’re the only ones out here ♪
♪ Who are free ♪
♪ We’re the only ones out here ♪
♪ Who are free ♪
[music ends]
[metal groans]
Okay, my turn.
So, Bubs, I’m gonna miss your worldclass dancing, and I’ll miss getting your basketball unstuck when you throw it in the rafters.
I’ll miss tucking you in at night, and, I don’t know, just watching you grow up because you’re such a cute little squishywishy baby.
[both laughing]
[distant rumbling]
What the…
[woman singing high note operatically]
[gasps]
[man wailing, whimpering]
[dramatic opera music plays]
Mr. Napkin!
Help me!
[dramatic music continues]
[panting]
[wails fearfully]
[grunts, wails]
[music becomes heroic]
[strains]
[music fades pleasantly]
[sighs in relief] Mr. Napkin! Beesha!
Are you okay?
We’re fine, Bubs. We’re fine.
What even is that stuff?
I think it’s that gross liquid meat they use to make hot dogs.
Yeah, it’s hot dog meat, all right.
The good stuff too.
Well, whatever it is, I’m glad you didn’t drown in it, Mr. Napkin.
Oh jeez, I forgot to thank you for saving my life, Beesha.
You know, my mom always told me I was an ungrateful child and our family’s biggest disappointment.
Anyhow, thank you.
Of course.
The world’s a much better place with you in it, Mr. N.
[dramatic theme music plays]
[female reporter] Shock and outrage in Triperot today as one of the worst liquid hot dog meat floods in the nation’s history has citizens reeling.
Oi! Woman! Our prank’s on telly!
When I was a little shaver, Triperot was the fun capital of the world.
We had fun.
Then Tripe Lake dried up, and I thought things couldn’t get worse.
Guess what? News flash. This is way worse.
This is worse.
What I wanna know is, how the heck can hardworking people like us get ahead in this town?
I also wanna know that, also as well.
I’m Beverly Onion, joined now by Triperot Mayor, Wayne John JohnJohn.
Mayor JohnJohn, do we know who’s behind this savage attack?
Thank you, Beverly.
Number one, as always, our thoughts and prayers are with those affected by this meatastrophe.
Number two, election day is coming up, so remember, a vote for JohnJohn is a vote for funfun.
And number three, those evildoers may have blown up our water tower, but they can never blow up the spirit of this great city.
How can he blame us?
[growls] Any reasonable person would’ve done exactly the same thing if they’d had their fun park shut down.
If that bum don’t like us blowing up that water tower, I say we blow up his butt.
[both cackling]
[dramatic music swells, softens]
[mother flea] The mayor’s butt would eventually explode.
However, we can talk about that later.
For now, the Twits’ trick was having very real consequences for our heroes.
I’m so happy you’re going to be my parents because all I’ve ever wanted is… is to find a family.
[Mr. Napkin] Oh, boy.
You’re not gonna find a cuter child in the tristate area, Mr. and Mrs. Klurb.
That’s a promise.
[chairs clunking noisily]
[mutters] Here’s the deal, friend.
[sputters] We’ve reconsidered, actually, based on circumstances, and, uh, you know, adopting this kid over here, you know, that’s gonna be a nogo for us.
Yeah, we’ve seen on the news how certain parts of town are still finding high levels of liquid hot dog meat in their pipes.
And then we seen your kids here drinking that toxic meat water.
Breaks my heart to say it, but we just don’t have the money to care for a contaminated child.
[melancholy music plays]
We’ve decided to take our business to another orphanage.
Sorry, bucko. [clicks tongue] [sighs] It’s okay, Bubsy, those folks don’t know what they’re talking about.
We’ll find you a family yet, I guarantee it.
[sobbing]
[sniffling]
I’m never gonna get adopted, Beesh.
Yes, you are.
You just have to have hope.
I mean, my dream is to see my parents again.
Even though I know they’re coming back for me, it’s still hard to wait.
But some incredible family is gonna find you so soon.
I can feel it.
And until that happens, I got your back.
And your nose.
And your intestines!
[giggles] You always have everyone’s back, Beesh.
And their nose, and their intestines.
I try.
But who takes care of you?
I don’t need anyone to take care of me.
I’m 12. Almost.
So, yeah. I’m fine.
[sentimental music playing]
But you’re not fine.
And this city isn’t fine. I just…
I want people to not be so terrible to each other all the time.
So you know what?
I’m not gonna sit here and wait around for someone else to make the world less cruel. Uh-uh.
I’m gonna go out there and follow clues and find whoever put the meat in that water tower.
And I am going to bring those jerks to justice.
[truck horn blaring]
[Mr. Twit] Will you shut up?!
We’re trying to be quiet here!
How am I supposed to steal these chemical loos with all that honking, you baby diaper?
[straining]
[honking continues]
[Mrs. Twit chuckles]
[growls]
[yells in frustration]
[cackling] Aren’t those the people from the Twitlandia ad, Beesh?
That’s gotta be who did it.
Looks like you’re gonna get to go to Twitlandia after all. Come on.
Whoo-hoo! [chuckles happily]
[squawks]
[Bubsy] I know we’re trying to capture criminals, Beesh, but I still wanna go on a roller coaster.
There it is. There’s the truck.
[ominous music plays]
How have the police not figured this out?
[music intensifies]
[shudders]
Beesha?
We’ll be fine.
Come on.
[eerie music plays] [crows cawing]
[wind gusting]
[chimes tinkling]
[Bubsy gasps softly] Twitlandia looked way nicer in the commercial.
Yeah.
It looks like a place where children go to be murdered.
But, hey, you can’t judge a book by its cover.
Wait there. I got this.
[breathes deeply]
[doorbell rings]
[door creaks]
[Mrs. Twit] What do you want?!
[screams] Uh… Uh… Um…
Hi. Hello, ma’am. And sir.
[Mr. Twit growls]
What are you doing here?
Oh! [chuckles] What we are…
[in low voice] …doing here…
[normally] …is what I’m about to tell you, which is that…
We are here to visit Twitlandia?
[gasps] Oh!
[both chuckle] Those stupid little dunces must not have heard about all the terrible health code violations that got us shut down.
We are back in business, woman.
Come along, youngsters.
The fun park’s out back.
You know, I couldn’t help but notice that gigantic meat truck parked out front, and I was wondering if… What the…?
[straining]
What is this?
Ha! That’s Hugtight Sticky Glue.
Best glue on the market for capturing birds.
[squawking]
[growls]
Why would anyone wanna capture birds?
To make bird pie, obviously.
[grunts] [softly] Idiot.
[grunts] [Mr. Twit] But you didn’t come to Twitlandia to hear my rotten turnip of a wife call you an idiot.
You came to give us your money!
The Celebrity Diamond Platinum Pass.
That’s the one you’re gonna want.
That gives you access to all the best attractions.
Your TiltAPotty, your Pirate’s Booty, the finest entertainments in the Credenza Twit Memorial Concert Hall!
That package starts at just $8,500.
I have, like, three bucks.
And I have some baby carrots and a dirty BandAid.
[grunts]
[munching] Mm.
Only thing that’ll get you is a frolic about in the bouncy pit.
[flies buzzing]
[Beesha] Wow!
As fun and sanitary as a hole filled with soiled mattresses looks, I was really interested in hearing the story behind that gigantic meat truck out front.
Oh, that meat truck? We stole it.
[mysterious music plays] Excuse me?
Why? You just rip a greasy fart?
[hesitantly] No.
I didn’t rip a greasy fart.
Uh, I just thought I heard you say you stole that meat truck?
We did.
Then we put the meat in a water tower and blew the lot of it up.
[imitates explosion]
[both laughing, exclaiming excitedly]
But it’s not our fault.
We done it to get revenge on this crummy town.
Wow!
You just said all of those things to us.
[chuckles nervously] Delightful.
Um, we have to be going now.
But we haven’t gone on any of the rides.
[screams]
[door creaks]
[pops] [liquid sloshing] Next time.
[chuckles nervously]
Hey! Be sure and tell your friends.
But only the ones with more money than you’ve got!
[liquid sloshes]
[Beesha] Come on.
I think that’s the way out.
[animals chittering, whimpering]
There’s nothing to be scared of.
[bars clank]
[Beesha gasps]
[animals chittering, growling]
Beesh?
[mysterious music playing]
What kind of animals are those?
[music swells]
[animals chittering]
Those poor creatures look so sad.
[gentle music playing]
[chitters] What do you think they’re saying?
[animals grunting, chittering]
[chittering impatiently]
[Beesha grunts softly, sighs]
[female animal] Please help us.
[male] Help!
[gasps]
Those evil monsters are holding us against our will.
If there is anything that you can do, we would be so, so grateful.
I do not like this stinky old cage.
[mother flea] In rare cases…
Beesh?
…very sensitive children with deep empathy…
Are you…?
…have been known to understand animals.
Yes! Yes, yes!
Wait, can you kids understand what I’m saying?
Are you hearing us?
[both] Yes!
Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!
[gasps] I think I’m gonna pass out! Or maybe barf?
Oh yeah, definitely gonna glorvin up a florbnorble.
Do not glorvin out another florbnorble, Marty.
Just breathe and say hello to them.
Hello!
Don’t shout. They’re right there.
I’m sorry, he’s overwhelmed right now.
We all are, ’cause just, wow, wow, wow!
[laughs] It’s okay.
I can’t believe it either.
My name is Beesha, and this is my friend Bubsy.
I’m Mandy Muggle-Wump, and my mama is Mary Muggle-Wump, and my papa is Marty Muggle-Wump.
You can call me Big Daddy if you want.
Don’t ask them to call you that, Marty.
Oh, good Lord.
[giggles] You Muggle-Wumps are funny.
I have a question, and that question is, do you kids know how to open up cages?
We’ve been stuck in this thing for years.
There’s a key to the lock somewhere in that house.
[sighs] If there’s any way you could find it?
Of course. We’ll find the key and get you outta there.
I promise.
You should get outta here right now.
[Beesha] What? Why?
[Bubsy] What are you…
[Mrs. Twit] Get away from there!
Them things is the brown jewel of Twitlandia.
We stole them from Loompaland.
[snapping fingers]
And you lot, get back to crying.
[Muggle-Wumps whimpering]
[mysterious music plays]
[Bubsy] What are you doing to them?
[Mrs. Twit] They cry magical tears when they go upside down, and them magical tears is the power source that keeps Twitlandia running.
[machine belches]
We don’t got no city power out here.
I know what you’re thinking.
[imitates sobbing]
“They’re gonna get the Dreaded Shrinks.”
No, because we only make them stay on their heads for one hour at a time.
What are the Dreaded Shrinks?
What do you got, butt cheeks for brains?
The Dreaded Shrinks is what happens when you stand on your head too long.
We don’t need their heads to shrink into their necks, their necks to shrink into their bodies, bodies to shrink into their legs, till all that’s left is a big puddle of nothing.
[Mary grunts]
You people are evil.
Yeah, well, you’re evil.
You two walk away now, or else my gorgeous wife will put you in a sumptuous pie and cook you for our supper!
We’ll be back.
Beat it!
[ominous music plays]
Wait, Beesh, wait!
[intriguing music plays]
What are we gonna do about those poor Muggle-Wumps?
Free them when the Twits get arrested.
What do you mean? How?
[Beesha] Hmm…
I might have recorded every word they said.
What?
[dramatic theme music plays]
I’m Beverly Onion, reporting live with breaking news.
I’m here with local orphan child, Beesha Balti, who brought us stunning footage that promises to solve a big Triperot mystery.
Beesha?
Yes, so, um, Miss Onion, the Triperot Home for Children, which is where I live, is still contaminated with meat water, and no one was doing anything about it, and my best friend, Bubsy Mulch, was about…
Good job, Beesha.
Let’s take a look at her shocking hidden-camera footage.
[intriguing sting]
Oh, that meat truck? We stole it.
[Beesha] Excuse me?
Why?
You just rip a greasy fart?
[Beesha] No…
Woman! We’re on the telly!
[crow squawks]
We did, then we put the meat in a water tower and blew the lot of it up!
[imitates explosion]
[both cackling] As you can see, the Twits freely admit that they committed this savage, sausagey assault.
Oh! I look so perspirational!
♪ And I sound like a genius ♪
Ooh! Uh-oh!
♪ A proper, proper genius ♪
♪ And all the world shall worship me
‘Cause I’m a precious genius ♪
♪ Spelled JENUAS ♪
[pounding at door]
[squeals] They’re already coming to give me my own TV show.
It’s finally happening for us, woman!
[grunts]
[exciting music playing]
[ethereal music plays]
Come on, baby.
This is what you paid to see.
Tada!
[both grunt]
What do you think you’re do…
[screams]
Why?
Do you know who I am?
[grunts] I’m an important celebrity.
I am a genius!
Credenza S. Twit and James T. Twit, you are under arrest for deliberately and maliciously flooding Triperot with liquid hot dog meat.
Mr. and Mrs. Twit, do you have anything to say to the citizens of Triperot?
Yeah, I got something to say.
If you people had supported Twitlandia, then everyone in this stupid town would’ve had all their dreams come true!
Triperot could’ve been the fun capital of the world again.
And all y’all would’ve been living in the lamp of luxury.
[grunts] You blew it, Triperot!
You blew it!
The city should never have shut down Twitlandia!
[Mrs. Twit] It’s the world’s only goshdang amusement park!
Don’t you hear me?
This is your fault, Mayor JohnJohn!
Stop pushing me!
Did Mrs. Muggle-Wump say where they keep the key?
Uhuh. I think we’re just gonna have to look everywhere.
[lights buzzing, crackling]
[Bubsy] It’s creepy in here.
And it smells.
Do either of those things surprise you?
No, not really.
[music box playing pleasant melody]
[whispering] Are these poor animals dead?
[Beesha] Yeah.
They’ve all been taxidermied.
[music box song slowing, distorting]
[croaks]
[both scream]
[speaking gibberish]
The heck?
[speaking gibberish]
[toad grunting] It sounds like it’s talking backwards.
Or maybe French?
If you lick my toes, opposite your life goes.
Okay.
[speaking gibberish]
Here, um, I think maybe…
I’m a Sweet-Toed Opposite Toad, and if you lick my toes, opposite your life will go.
I’ve never met a sweet-toed toad before.
[chuckling] Oh! I’m from Loompaland.
I came here with my friends, the Muggle-Wumps.
We know the Muggle-Wumps.
We’re gonna get them outta their cage.
Huh! Please free me too!
Mrs. Twit tried to turn me into taxidermy.
[mutters] I’ve been stuck in this room ever since.
And no one in here will lick my toes.
Of course we’ll set you free.
[croaking excitedly, speaking gibberish]
You wouldn’t happen to know where the key to the Muggle-Wumps’ cage is, would you?
Unfortunately, I don’t.
That’s okay.
There are lots of things I don’t know too.
Like, why don’t baby carrots have to wear diapers?
We’ve talked about this, Bubs.
They don’t have butts.
We’ll let you out the front door.
[croaking excitedly]
[chuckling]
[grunting]
[Mr. Twit grunts]
[Mrs. Twit screams] #[groans]
[laughs]
[officer] Twits, you made bail.
[Mr. Twit] I can’t think who’d pay our bail.
You’re the only person I know.
And I don’t like you enough to bail you out.
[Mr. Twit yelps, groans]
[man] There they are.
[woman] They’re the ones on TV.
Mr. and Mrs. Twit, you’re our only hope!
Love ya! [chuckles]
[marimba playing]
Huh?
What?
[playing mellow melody]
[mother flea] You’re probably confused.
I am confused.
That’s why I said, “You’re probably confused.”
Oh.
The Twits were too, but if I told you just a little bit about the city where they live, I think it’d make more sense.
Triperot was once a popular vacation destination, known as the fun capital of the world.
But when Tripe Lake dried up, the tourists stopped visiting.
Businesses closed.
People lost their jobs, their money, their way of life.
Desperate and down on their luck, many of them were ready to believe anyone who might offer salvation.
Hey, Dorcas! Supper’s ready!
[Dorcas humming] Ah!
[shatters]
[morose music plays]
Oh, Dorcas. That was our last jar of ham.
Sorry, Mom.
It’s all right, hon. Wasn’t your fault.
Money’s real tight is all, honey.
[Mr. Twit] If you people supported Twitlandia, then everyone in this stupid town would’ve had all their dreams come true!
Triperot could’ve been the fun capital of the world again, and all y’all would’ve been living in the lamp of luxury.
[grunts]
[Mr. Twit] The city should never have…
[mother flea] When you very much want something to be true…
Huh.
[woman] Hmm.
…It’s very easy to convince yourself that it is.
Hi there, Mr. and Mrs. Twit.
Name’s Dee Dumdie-Dungle.
My bridegroom here…
Horvis Dungle! [chuckles] Yeah, that’s your name, hon.
He seems to think Twitlandia could make Triperot the fun capital of the world again.
And I’m like, “Hmm…”
Yeah, she’s always like, “Hmm…”
Uh, but I’m more like, “Hmm!”
So anyhow, uh, we called a few of our friends to help bail you guys out.
[clicks tongue]
[Dee] Yeah.
Because if Twitlandia is for real, boy, we all want in.
I also want in, also as well.
You hear that?
I do.
[both chuckle] I’d say it’s high time we start making some promises we have no intention of keeping.
[both chuckle deviously]
Yes, my friends, it’s true.
If we reopen Twitlandia, tourism will return, Triperot will be the fun capital of the world again, and all the city’s problems will be solved.
But none of that can happen without one little thing.
Your money.
And that is why we’ve got a honey of a deal for you.
If you invest just $1,000, we guarantee you $1 billion when the park opens.
Holy smokes.
That’s a great deal.
Yeah, we can just dip into Dorcas’s college fund.
Uh, Mom, Dad, a moment of your time.
This seems like an obvious lie.
Oh, Dorcas, you’re just too young to understand that the Twits are going to make all of our dreams come true!
Oh, thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Twit!
A billion to you!
[Horvis] I want a billion!
A billion for you! Billion! Billion!
[Horvis] Whoohoo!
[Mr. Twit] Our Twitlandia dream is gonna come true.
[Mrs. Twit] They love me.
They really love me.
Let me get that for you, lass.
Ooh!
[grunts] Whoa!
[doors creak]
[ominous music plays]
[bubbling sounds]
Ugh. What is it with these people and toilets?
Maybe they have small bladders and have to go in the middle of the night sometimes.
Huh.
[TVs buzz] [romantic doowop music plays]
[flames crackle]
[Mrs. Twit] Yoohoo!
Our big celebration supper’s almost ready, Jimmy.
[Mr. Twit grunts]
Mm! [slurps] It’s a special new kind of spaghetti for my special guy.
Eat it up now while it’s nice and hot.
Hot, hot, hot, hot.
[Mr. Twit munching, grunting]
Yeah, it… it’s squishy with a… with a hint of distinctly bitter flavor.
You wanna know why your spaghetti’s squishy?
Why?
And why it has a bitter taste?
[hesitantly] Why?
Because it’s worms! You’re eating worms!
[Mrs. Twit screams] [dramatic music plays]
[music fades]
[nervously] Okay.
If I were a key, I’d hide under a pillow, maybe?
Voice Changer 30,000? What’s this…
[in man’s voice] …thing do?
Whoa, that’s really weird.
[giggles]
[Mrs. Twit screaming] [growls]
[romantic doowop music continues]
[Mrs. Twit] Mm.
[Mr. Twit] Mm.
[both grunt]
[gasps] [clattering] Was that the Twits?
It can’t be.
They’ve gotta be in jail by now.
[groans] It’s…
It’s been a long day.
[back cracks] [Mr. Twit groans] I’m tired.
Let’s just… [slurps] …go to bed.
[ominous sting]
What the…? What’s happening?
[bellows]
[mechanism clicking] Oh no! Oh no!
[woman singing opera] [squeaking]
[mechanism clacks]
[machine whistling shrilly]
This is not good.
They are home, and now they’re gonna put us in a pie and eat us.
[carnivalesque music plays]
[wood groaning]
[pleasant jazz music plays]
Beesh.
Duck!
[mechanism accelerating]
[gasps]
[music fades]
[screams]
[mechanism powers down]
We’re fine, Bubs. We’re fine. We’re okay.
[screaming]
[mechanism accelerating]
[sounds fade]
[both scream]
[gas hissing]
[both scream]
[both scream]
[squeaking]
[screaming]
[mechanism rattling]
[Bubsy grunts]
[gasps]
[air hisses]
[both gasp]
[chains rattling]
[wood groaning]
[both yawning]
[backs cracking]
[gasps]
[mysterious music playing]
[thud]
[gasps]
[Mr. Twit farts]
[Bubsy chuckles softly]
[fart continues]
[mysterious music continues]
[sighs]
[belches] Ugh.
[belch continues]
[gags, sighs]
[gasps]
The key.
[Mr. Twit snores, snorts]
[Mrs. Twit snores, snorts]
[muttering]
[snoring] It’s in his beard.
[intriguing music plays]
[Mr. Twit snoring]
Ew.
[Mr. Twit snoring]
[Mrs. Twit muttering, wheezing]
[gasps]
[snoring wetly] Blech.
[“Reveille” plays]
What are you doing, woman?!
[kids gasp]
[grunts] Come on. Let’s go.
[wails]
[music changing rapidly]
Hey, what…
It’s them kids.
Go, go, go!
[Mr. Twit growls]
[thud] Oh!
We got the key!
[Muggle-Wumps gasp]
We got the key!
Oh my gosh, really?
No way!
You guys are my heroes!
Come on. Come on.
I’m gonna put you kids in a pie and cook you both for supper!
Go. You gotta get out of here.
No way. We’re getting you out.
You can’t get us out if you’re in a pie.
Hurry, Beesh!
[Marty] Go. Don’t let them catch you.
[Mary] Those monsters will kill you.
[Marty] Don’t say “kill.” It’s negative.
Come on, Beesh. Hurry.
[Marty] Save yourselves.
[Bubsy] Hurry!
Go!
[Mrs. Twit yells]
[Beesha] Come on! Come on!
[exciting music playing]
[grunts]
[Mrs. Twit] Ha!
Gotcha.
Help!
[chittering in slow-motion]
[screams]
[Mary grunting]
[Mrs. Twit groans]
[chittering]
[grunting]
[strikes landing]
[both grunting]
[gasps] Hey, Mary.
I feel like that’s pretty good.
[strikes and grunts continue] Oh.
[Marty] Okay, yeah, one more.
Just one more.
[Mr. Twit yells]
[groans]
[Beesha] Come on, let’s go!
[exciting music plays]
[Mr. Twit screams]
[both growl]
Come on! Come on!
[croaking]
[screaming]
[grunts]
[croaking]
[Mr. Twit] They’re stealing our stolen Muggle-Wumps!
[music fades]
[“Rainbows Are Back in Style” by Dean Martin plays]
♪ Rainbows are gettin’ back in style ♪
[singing along hoarsely]
[Bubsy screaming] Cripes!
Hi, Mr. Napkin. Everything’s fine.
Whatever you do, do not open the door for the Twits.
You got it, Beesha.
Don’t open the door for the Twits.
[pounding at door]
Welcome to the Triperot Home for Children.
What can I do you for?
Where are they?
Where are who?
Are you trying to be funny?
No, I doubt it.
My mom always told me I was a uniquely humorless child.
Anyhow, I’m Burl Napkin.
[grunts]
And whatever it is you need, I’m sure we can fellowship about it like reasonable adults over a hot beef loaf and some spray cheese.
[gasps, pants]
[tense music plays]
Beesha, he let them in, and he offered them cheese!
We’re all gonna die!
[all gasp] No one’s gonna die, Harold.
Just nobody panic.
[child] But Harold told us to panic.
Tuna, Harold, get the blocks.
Huh?
Everybody else, cardboard and crayons now.
[Tuna] You got it.
[music ends]
[clock ticking]
[groans uncertainly]
Oh, boy.
Uh, so, um, what exactly can I help you with, Mr. and Mrs. Twit?
Your no-good children stole our Muggle-Wumps.
Sorry, my who stole your what?
The creatures whose tears are the power source for our fun park.
You know we can’t run Twitlandia without the Muggle-Wumps.
Yeah, see, I’m hearing words come out of your mouth, but I’m not comprehending their… their meaning.
If you won’t hand over our Muggle-Wumps, you’re gonna have to pay us.
Those animals is worth $1 billion.
Oh, I’m a bit cash poor at the moment.
Um, my investments are primarily emotional.
In that case, give us some of your possessions.
We’ll take, mm, the shoes, the shirt, the slacks, and… the watch.
But this watch belonged to my late father.
If he was late, it mustn’t have been a very good watch.
Come on.
Don’t come back, or we’ll take the briefs.
Hey! And the sock!
Well, glad I decided to put on briefs this morning.
♪ Rainbows are coming back in… ♪
[car horn honks]
Oh, right back at you. Toottoot!
[man] Get a job!
Oh, jeez.
Mr. Napkin got tricked out of his pants again!
Of course he did.
Come on, everyone. Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!
[dramatic opera music plays]
[clanking loudly]
[growling]
Okay. Okay.
[Mr. Twit pants, grunts]
[Mrs. Twit panting]
[Tuna] Hurry, Harold.
Let’s go! Come on!
[suspenseful music playing]
[Harold groans]
[dramatic opera music continues]
[Mr. Twit groans]
[both panting, groaning]
[croaks]
[speaking gibberish]
Action positions now!
[suspenseful music plays]
[whimpering]
[grunting]
[music swells, ends]
[Mr. Twit] Go on.
That burning sensation in your chest…
[gasps loudly]
…is natural.
Okay, you brats. We want what’s ours.
Thank goodness you’re here.
They went right through that door.
They’re sneaky little critters.
Ooh!
Move it! What are you waiting for?
[dramatic music plays]
[music ends] [both gasp, scream]
[screaming]
[screaming in slow-motion]
[grunting in slow-motion]
[both grunt]
Gotta admit…
[sighs] …that trick was pretty brilliant.
And professional.
[Bubsy] Ouch!
Are you okay?
You little sneaks!
[gasps] I gotta lock the door.
[suspenseful music plays]
[Mr. Twit growls]
[music stops]
[all grunt]
[groans] Sorry about that. That’s on me.
[Twits groan]
Here I go again, bumbling Burl.
[panting]
[suspenseful music resumes]
[grunts]
[music swells] [growls]
[music ends]
[pounding on door]
[grunting]
[pounding and grunting continue]
[sighs]
[gentle knock at door]
[Mrs. Twit] Hey, little girl. Little girl?
Mm, you’re good.
You’re very good.
You tricked us with your hidden camera.
Got us locked up.
Then stole our stolen Muggle-Wumps.
[Mr. Twit] Then you tricked us with that pretend door.
[Mrs. Twit] You are a Twit in the making, is what you are.
Really?
[Mr. Twit] Yeah, which is why we have a very special offer for you.
It’s on the up and up. No tricks.
We’re backing away. See?
[footsteps departing]
[tense music plays]
Don’t even think about trusting them.
I won’t. I got this.
I’m fine.
[ominous music plays] So, what’s this special offer? Hmm?
We would like to adapt you.
[music fades]
To “adapt” me?
Yeah, you know, make you our very own precious little baby daughter child.
All you gotta do is give us back the Muggle-Wumps.
Then we can open up our fun park, become a happy family, the whole deal.
Huh?
Yeah…
No.
[Mr. Twit gasps]
Hey, a kid like you ought to be glad someone wants you, after being dumped here like a plate of moldy leftovers.
[melancholy string music plays]
[Beesha] I wasn’t dumped here.
My parents are coming back for me.
[both cackling]
She thinks they’re coming back!
That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in ages!
Thing is, kid, I was abandoned at the circus by my deadbeat parents.
And mine abandoned me at a bowling alley.
[eerie music playing] So you see, you really is just like us.
Only smaller and less intelligent.
I will never be like you.
[Mrs. Twit] Oh…
I am never giving up the Muggle-Wumps, and this orphanage is owned by Triperot.
So unless you’re the stinking mayor, I suggest you keep out!
[Twits scream]
[Twits panting, groaning]
[Twits scream]
[Mary] Here she is, the greatest dancer in the history of Loompaland, Mandy Muggle-Wump!
[dance music playing]
[all laughing, grunting]
[Bubsy giggles]
Our first night of freedom.
I am so snozzing happy, I could just…
Wahoo!
[laughs happily]
Yes!
The heck?
Oh, do humans not glow?
I mean, obviously you don’t when your tears are being harvested to power an amusement park because, like, duh.
But otherwise, you glow, right?
I don’t think I glow.
Huh. Well, learn something new every day.
Mama!
[giggles]
Whee!
[Tuna] Go, Harold! Go, Harold!
[Beesha sniffles]
Don’t let the Twits get into your head.
You got us out of that cage, Beesha.
We won.
[all laughing, cheering]
[child] Yeah!
[Mary] Beesha! We’re free!
Come on, dance with me!
[laughing] We’re free!
[mother flea] While the children and the Muggle-Wumps celebrated, the Twits schemed, cooking up a trick that, in the coming days, would have truly explosive consequences for the city of Triperot and for our heroes.
[dramatic music plays]
My detractors say I’m soft on crime.
Ooh!
They say I tanked the economy.
Well, I say I’m running unopposed.
So when you vote for mayor, just remember, a vote for JohnJohn is a vote for funfun.
[laughs]
[music ends] Mary! Get in here right now!
Please hurry!
[panting] Look, they’ve got this window that looks into a world where a little tiny man gets handed a stick by another man who whacks this white circle.
And all these tiny people who live in this little world, they clap.
Hey, good hit, buddy!
That’s a game called golf.
Yeah, and this is a TV, Mr. M.
You can change channels and watch all kinds of stuff.
Ooh!
Welcome to the Triperot mayoral debate.
I’m Beverly Onion.
In addition to previously unopposed Mayor Wayne John JohnJohn, we have two lastminute additions to the race.
Mrs. Credenza Twit and Mr. Jim Twit.
Ah!
[Onion] The economy, crime…
The Twits are running for mayor?
[Mandy whimpers]
[retching] Oh boy, that doesn’t seem like it’s good for anybody.
[continues retching]
[gasps]
[suspenseful music plays] [grunting]
[straining]
[squeals excitedly]
[Mandy giggles]
Whee!
[intriguing music playing] [babbling] What the heck?
My daddy barfs up stress balls sometimes.
[uncertainly] Okay.
I mean, the scientific term is to glorvin up a florbnorble.
It’s something that happens when I…
[retches] …get a little anxious.
Don’t worry, Mr. M.
Grownups are dumb, but not dumb enough to vote for a Twit.
[Mr. Twit] Thanks for coming to my rebate.
I gotta run to the bathroom.
I’ll be back in a sec, Bub.
[Mr. Twit] I’ll be the king of Triperot.
So I’m gonna speak first, and you’re gonna be last to listen.
Mr. Twit, what will you do if you become mayor of Triperot?
Glad you asked.
Let me show you my diarrhea.
[people gasping]
Excuse me?
I made a diarrhea, and I wanna show it to you.
Please don’t.
I have this diarrhea.
Diorama.
What?
“I have this diorama.”
That’s disgusting, and a secret best kept between you, your bum, and the toilet.
[man coughs]
Now this is a diarrhea of the world’s number-one fun park, Twitlandia.
[melody playing]
Mr. Twit just loves to talk about his diarrhea.
But what he won’t talk about is how Twitlandia can’t reopen without our Muggle-Wumps, which were stole by this child.
[people gasp]
When I’m mayor, I’ll get them Muggle-Wumps back, turn Triperot into the fun capital of the world again, and make everyone who votes for me a billionaire!
[people cheering]
I love you, Mrs. Twit.
I love you also as well.
[whimpers] People, please.
Do you really think these so-called Muggle-Wumps can make Triperot the fun capital of the world?
I don’t.
[people murmuring] In fact, if you ask me, there’s only one candidate who knows a thing or two about funfun, and his name is JohnJohn.
Then how come that candidate ain’t eaten any of that Triperot cake?
Uh, what?
Give it here. I’ll eat the cake myself, if only to prove I care more about Triperot than he does.
[chortling] Oh, please.
These good folks know I live and breathe Triperot.
[munching]
Now… I eat it too!
[amusing music playing]
[JohnJohn retches]
Oh yeah! He’s eating the cake!
He must really love Triperot.
[JohnJohn] Yum! [chortles]
[ominous music plays]
[stomach grumbles]
[groans] Triperot! Whoo!
[people cheer] Stop this debate!
[people gasp]
[man] Who’s that?
It’s that kid who stole the Muggle-Wumps!
Boo!
Oh, please don’t.
Actually, I freed the Muggle-Wumps.
And I am never, ever letting the Twits take them back.
[Bubsy gasps]
What is she doing?
I thought she was in the bathroom a really long time.
[retches] Whee!
See? She admits it.
She ain’t giving back them Muggle-Wumps ’cause she don’t give a care about you people.
Oh.
Coming from the people who contaminated Triperot with hot dog meat?
Which we would do again if it would help save this wonderful city.
That doesn’t even make sense.
You don’t make sense.
But you know what does?
A little of the old razzle-dazzle.
[Mr. Klurb playing marimba]
[playing slow, mellow melody]
What the…
♪ If we had what she stole ♪
Why are you singing?
♪ Then the park would be open ♪
Huh?
♪ We’d all be so happy ♪
[all] Yeah!
♪ But now the whole thing is broken ♪
Excuse me?
♪ Now, I don’t need to tell you ♪
[gurgling] No. What’s happening?
♪ We made a promise to everyone ♪
Your promises are lies!
♪ A billion dollars ♪
That’s a good deal.
[Mr. Twit] ♪ It’s not our fault
That now it is gone ♪
[groans] Help.
♪ So now it seems that there’s a problem ♪
♪ Oh my, oh my ♪
♪ Now what should we do? ♪
It’s not true!
♪ The thief is pointing
Her finger at us, but… ♪
[all] Yeah!
♪ Oh, the problem is you ♪
♪ Oh, the problem is you ♪
♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you, you, you ♪
I don’t feel so good.
♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you, you, you ♪
[all] ♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you, you, you ♪
♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you, you, you ♪
♪ It’s you, it’s you, it’s you, you ♪
[JohnJohn groaning]
♪ It’s you ♪
[Horvis] We want Twitlandia!
Give back the Muggle-Wumps!
[all] ♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you, you, you ♪
♪ It’s you ♪
[stomach grumbling]
Oh, I feel like something’s going on…
[groans]
[all] ♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you, you, you ♪
[gasping]
♪ It’s you ♪
♪ It’s you ♪
[music swelling]
♪ It’s you, you, you ♪
[music stops]
A vote for JohnJohn is a vote for funfun!
[screaming]
[fart warbling loudly]
[fart warbling in slow-motion]
[fart booms] [grunts] [people screaming, coughing] [wailing] It burns! It burns!
[high-pitched tone plays]
Uh, Mum, did that man’s…?
It did, love.
His bottom exploded.
Oh.
What happens next?
[Marty gagging] [gentle music playing] Here, Papa. Drink some gerbil tea.
It’ll calm you right down.
[retches] [giggling]
[toad groans]
Bubsy, is there any sign of her out there?
Not yet. Do you see her, Mrs. M?
Ah, there she is.
Beesha!
[melancholy string music plays]
[shudders]
Beesha!
[grunts] Are you okay?
I’m fine. I’m fine.
Beesha’s back! She’s okay!
You’re not fine.
Look at you, you’re shaking.
I’ll admit it was a lot to have the Twits blame me for ruining an entire town, and then to have a bunch of adults angry-sing at me, and then to be present when a man’s butt exploded.
But otherwise, I’m…
[clicks tongue] What…
What happened here? You have a cut.
It’s nothing. I’m fine.
Ugh, so help me, child, if you say “I’m fine” one more time, I’ll have to chew your elbows off.
[chuckles]
What, you think I’m kidding?
Look at these teeth.
[gentle music playing] Here.
Let me clean that up.
Whoa! What the…
Oh, calm down.
Muggle-Wump slobber has healing properties.
[enchanting music plays]
[blows]
[magic tinkling]
Huh. Will you look at that?
What?
You just let somebody help you, and the world is still turning.
[scoffs] Haha.
[gentle music plays] Why do you feel like you have to do everything by yourself?
I lie awake for hours every night thinking about all the things I haven’t fixed.
I haven’t gotten Bubsy adopted.
I haven’t stopped the Twits.
Beesha, it’s not your job to…
I know. I know.
But I feel like if I can prove that I’m really worth something, that maybe somehow…
I know it doesn’t make any sense, but maybe somehow, my parents will hear about what a good kid I am, and maybe they’ll finally love me enough to want to come back for me.
It’s silly, I know.
It’s not silly.
Did you ever think that maybe they left you here because they did love you, and for whatever reason, they just couldn’t take care of you?
Well, anyway, there are gobs of us who love you unconditionally, and who will devour your elbows if you try to go it alone again.
[blows] [magic tinkles] Whoa.
[sighs] Well, I should get the kids to bed.
After the day you’ve had, why don’t you let me take care of that?
My mama and papa are from this magical island called Loompaland, which is the most violentest place in the whole world.
And my mama’s mama used to sing her this lullaby about monsters eating your face off and ripping out your guts and stuff.
It’s my very most favorite one.
[pleasant music plays]
♪ The world is red ♪
♪ In tooth and claw ♪
♪ Jaws that bite ♪
[chuckling]
♪ And teeth that gnaw ♪
♪ Hear their screams ♪
♪ Their cries and roars ♪
♪ Our lives are nasty ♪
♪ Brutish and short ♪
[shadow roars]
♪ But in dreams you are safe ♪
[music becomes hopeful]
[Mandy giggling]
♪ In dreams you are free ♪
♪ In that beautiful place ♪
♪ Close your eyes and you’ll see ♪
♪ The flowers that smile ♪
♪ The sun, it will shine ♪
♪ And nothing can hurt you now ♪
♪ In dreams you are safe ♪
♪ In dreams you are free ♪
♪ In that beautiful place ♪
♪ Close your eyes and you’ll see ♪
♪ The flowers that smile ♪
♪ The sun, it will shine ♪
♪ And nothing can hurt you now ♪
[music fading]
[snoring]
[loud boom] [gasps]
[speaks gibberish]
[smacks lips]
[loud boom]
[screams, whimpers]
I’m in a box and I can’t get out!
[loud boom]
[all gasp]
[loud boom]
[objects rattling]
[suspenseful music playing]
[Mr. Twit] Ready…
Aim…
Hey, what are you doing?
Fire!
[music ends]
Stop it!
[laughs triumphantly] As mayors of Triperot, we is declaring war on you and your stupid orphanan age.
You aren’t the mayors of Triperot.
Oh yes, we are.
Wayne John “the Buttless Wonder” JohnJohn lost the election, and me and Mr. Twit got the same number of votes, so this knot-headed town made us comayors.
As evidenced by this totally genuine, not homemade crown, and these majestical golden slippers.
Ooh! Now give us our Muggle-Wumps back this instant!
[woman singing operatic high note]
[Mandy whimpers]
I’m really scared. [whimpers] There’s nothing to be scared of…
[retches] Mandy.
[Mr. Twit] Fire!
[loud thud] Go up to the roof.
You can escape, and they won’t see you.
And what, let them hurt you kids? Uh-uh.
You were there for us.
We are not going to abandon you.
I know we can beat them if we work together.
[child] Yeah.
[thud] [Mr. Twit laughs] [retching]
[florbnorbles chittering]
Some might be more useful than others, but…
Wait, Mr. M, how many of those things can you…
Is “make” the right word?
[Marty] Hmm.
Time’s up, you swazzly little swamp rats!
For the good of Triperot and the good of Twitlandia, go get our Muggle-Wumps!
[dramatic music plays]
Give us those Muggle-Wumps!
I also want the Muggle-Wumps also as well!
Mom, Dad, this is not a nice thing to do!
[Dee] I want those Muggle-Wumps.
I need ’em.
[Dee grunting]
Ready, aim, fire!
[music intensifies]
[Mrs. Twit] Fire!
[children] Snakes. Spiders. Dentists.
Mimes.
Creepy clowns.
Vermicious Knids.
Bubblegum in your hair.
Forgetting pants when you go to school.
I’m just… I’m… I’m having anxiety about my anxiety.
You know what gives me anxiety, Marty?
The thought of going back in that cage.
[gulps]
[stomach gurgling]
[florbnorbles chittering]
[gasps]
[silence falls]
[wind whistling]
[note plays softly]
[creature chitters]
What in the…?
[creature yells]
[screams]
[exciting, bouncy music plays]
Thank you for your service!
[creature] Whee!
[yelps] Whee!
[giggling excitedly]
[man grunts]
[screams]
[screams]
[tires squeal]
[laughs happily]
What on earth are these things?
Get back here!
Nobody told you you could leave.
Cowards!
[Harold] Touchdown!
Yes!
[children laughing] Yes!
Beesha!
What is it, Bub?
[suspenseful music playing]
[both growling]
[gasps] Mr. Napkin, don’t let them in!
Get out of the way, Crapkin.
We know our Muggle-Wumps are here, so let us in.
[Mr. Napkin] Let you in, huh?
[dramatic sting] Nah.
[cocking spray cans]
I don’t think we’ll be doing that today.
[both] Hmm?
[heavy metal music plays]
[Twits screaming in slow-motion]
[Mr. Napkin yelling] [Twits groaning]
[yelling]
[Twits groaning]
[yelling]
[yells]
If you think you’re getting into this orphanage, I say, not on my watch.
Mostly because you took my watch, but any-hoo…
[yelling] …not on my watch!
[music swells]
This ain’t over.
Oh, I think it is.
[grunting]
[tires squeal]
We’ll be back.
Whoo! Napkin for the Napwin! Ah!
[music ends with guitar solo] Wow, Mr. Napkin!
[laughing]
Mr. Napkin.
Did you lick the Sweet-Toed Toad’s toes?
[sighs wearily] I… I guess I did.
I mean, I’d never had a toad talk to me before.
I heard him and thought it sounded interesting, so I… I licked the toes.
And as soon as I did, I suddenly felt real crabby.
And powerful.
Kind of like the opposite of yourself?
Well, yeah, I guess that about sums it up.
That makes sense.
He’s an Opposite Toad from Loompaland.
[speaks gibberish]
Turmoil in Triperot tonight, as former mayor Wayne John JohnJohn recovers from emergency butt replacement surgery.
Meanwhile, Triperot’s new mayors, Credenza and Jim Twit, declared war on some local orphan children and lost.
The victorious youngsters have one brave orphan to thank, Beesha Balti.
The Muggle-Wump family is under my protection.
So as long as I’m here, the Twits will never set foot in this orphanage, and Twitlandia will never ever open.
[Mrs. Twit screams]
[groans]
That little brat’s ruining our lives!
[Mr. Twit imitating car sounds] [panting]
[giggles, imitates car sounds]
What in God’s name are you doing down there?
I’m playing with me diarrhea.
You think squishing your face around in diarrhea’s somehow gonna bring them Muggle-Wumps back?
You know how that kid operates.
She’s wily like a sea bass.
She ain’t never gonna let us get into that orphanage.
Oh, you poor, pointless, old wombat.
Who said anything about going in?
[chuckles deviously] [ominous music playing]
[music fades]
Come on. Enough cleaning, Beesha.
Everyone else is asleep up there.
I’m honestly not really tired.
So I might as well take the first watch.
All right, but if you wanna keep those elbows, repeat after me.
“I will sound the alarm if I see the Twits, and no matter what, I will not go it alone.”
I won’t go it alone, and I promise, promise, promise I’ll sound the alarm if I see them.
My heart is a door, and my love goes out into the world through that heart door.
Uh, what?
Oh, no, you’re supposed to repeat after me too.
I think I’m good.
Okay, well maybe just do this.
My heart door will stay open to accept the love of others.
[sighs]
My heart door will stay open to accept the love of others.
Because I deserve to be loved.
[gentle music plays]
Because I… deserve to be loved.
[music becomes hopeful]
[music fades]
[phone ringing]
Hello?
[Mr. Napkin] Beesha, you won’t believe it!
Mr. Napkin? Uh, where are you?
I’m with your parents.
Uh… [gulps] What?
Yeah, they saw you on the news.
They really wanna meet you.
I’m with them right now, out at the bowling alley on Tripecrest Road.
They seem like real decent folks, Beesha.
They really do.
[exciting, heartwarming music playing]
[music stops]
Don’t, Beesha! Don’t!
It’s a trick, isn’t it?
Tell me she’s not falling for this, Mum.
I can’t tell you that.
Remember, when you desperately want something to be true…
It’s easy to convince yourself that it is, even if it’s not.
Mom! Dad!
[door creaks] I’m here!
I can’t believe you came back.
I can’t believe you came back.
They’re never coming back.
[tense music playing]
[sighs] [door opens]
[Twits cackling]
[ominous music plays]
I can’t believe she fell for it.
The Voice Changer 30,000…
[Napkin’s voice] …comes through again.
I knew if you heard that potato-brained Napkin’s voice, you’d believe anything.
[device beeps] [in normal voice] And you did.
Now let’s go get our Muggle-Wumps.
[dramatic music plays]
[Twits cackling]
[panting]
[Beesha grunting]
[pants, gasps]
[tense music plays]
[Twits snickering]
[Beesha] No! No, no, no!
[grunting]
[vehicle approaching]
Hmm.
[vehicle door opens, closes]
[ominous music playing]
[speaks gibberish]
[metal rattling]
[man humming contentedly]
[woman sings operatic high note]
[rumbling]
[children whimper]
[object shatters]
[gasps] Uh, what’s happening?
Is this an earthquake? Where’s Beesha?
[Mr. Twit] Come on, Twitheads!
With the proper mob mentality, we can move mountains!
[ominous music playing]
Heaveho now! Heaveho!
[Twitheads] Heaveho!
[grunts]
[Twitheads] Heaveho!
[grunts]
[dramatic music playing]
[Mr. Twit] Ho!
Heaveho!
[woman singing operatic high note]
[straining]
It’s glued shut!
[grunts] So is this one. We’re trapped!
[grunts]
[panting]
[grunts]
[Twitheads] Heaveho!
[building groans]
[grunting]
[yells in despair]
[grunts] Mama!
[building groans]
[Mandy screams]
[Bubsy] Help! Help!
[grunts, gasps]
[scraping loudly]
[screams]
[grunts]
[heroic music plays]
[Twitheads] Heaveho!
[dramatic orchestral music plays]
[Twitheads shouting]
Hey! Wait for me!
[electricity crackles]
[Mr. Twit] Yeehaw!
[Twits cheering and whooping]
Next stop, Twitlandia!
[Mr. Twit cackles]
[music ends]
[panting]
[gasps]
Oh, no, no, no, no, no!
What happened? How?
[eerie music playing]
Mrs. M? Bubsy?
[grunts]
Mr. Napkin?
Is anyone here?
[object squeaks]
[ominous sting]
[gasps] What did I do?
[gasps in despair]
What did I do?
How could you fall for that, you idiot?
Idiot. Idiot.
[groans] I hate them.
I hate the Twits so much!
[groans]
[screams]
[dramatic sting]
[grunts] Ow.
What… What happened? How was…?
[toad grunts]
The Twits stole the orphanage.
I tried to stop them, but a woman kicked me with denim boots.
Didn’t even break her stride.
I grabbed hold of her denim boot.
She shook me once, tried to stomp on me.
Oh, the shame.
I got kicked by a denim boot.
This is all my fault.
I was supposed to be on watch, but I abandoned everyone because…
[yells] I am such an idiot!
Thinking my parents would actually come back for me.
Ow!
How is your tongue this…?
[both grunt] You must’ve licked my toes without me knowing ’cause you’re talking opposite right now.
Get it together, kid.
Your family needs you.
What family?
Isn’t it obvious I don’t have a fam…?
[both grunt]
Hold on a minute!
If you don’t have a family, what do you call Bubsy?
[gentle music plays] Or the Muggle-Wumps? Or me?
What do you call that bald guy with the high-waisted slacks who talks about his mom a lot?
Hmm?
I call him Mr. Napkin.
You call him Mr. Napkin.
The way I see it, family isn’t just who you’re related to.
It’s who you care about, and who cares about you, and treats you with love and kindness and empathy.
You’re right.
The Twits hurt our family.
Now it’s time to hurt them.
[exciting music plays]
♪ Fun and excitement had a baby ♪
♪ And they called it Twitlandia ♪
Welcome, Twitheads, to the regrand opening of Twitlandia!
[Mr. Twit whooping] We are bigger and better than ever!
[Twitheads cheering]
♪ Bigger and better ♪
[Mr. Twit] Now you can spend the night, and all your money, at the Twitlandia Luxury Motel & Spa.
[Mrs. Twit] And after you have a slice of my famous bird pie, feel free to use our complimentary Napkin.
Oh, jeez.
Most importantly, thanks to you, our Muggle-Wumps is back!
♪ Fun and excitement had a baby ♪
♪ They called it Twitlandia ♪
♪ Fun and excitement had a baby ♪
♪ And they called it Twitlandia ♪
[music ends]
Horvis Dungle!
Now, friends, Twitlandia is a fun park that puts family values first, which is why we want to introduce you to someone very special.
Our precious little son, Butt Cheek Twit.
[Bubsy gasps, grunts]
[Twitheads] Aw.
[marker squeaks]
[feedback whines]
Hello there. My name is Bubsy Twit…
[Mrs. Twit] Butt Cheek.
My name is…
[Mrs. Twit] Ah!
Butt Cheek Twit, and all I ever wanted was to find a family.
And now, I have one, since Meemaw and Peepaw Twit adopted me and all of my brothers and sisters.
[children scream, grunt]
That’s right, folks.
We adapted a whole orphanan age full of youngsters.
Just to bring you the Twit Family Memorial Song and Dance Extravaganza!
[up-tempo polka music plays]
[Twitheads] Hey! Hey!
[cheering excitedly]
Oh, Jim!
All our dreams are coming true.
I know it, woman.
Nothing could possibly ruin this moment now.
[chuckles]
[chuckles] Ha!
[both laughing]
[heroic music plays]
[laughs]
[music ends] [Twitheads gasp]
[cackling]
[grunts]
[Twitheads gasping]
[spitting continues]
[Twitheads gasp uncomfortably]
[both] Ugh.
[laughs] [mysterious music plays]
[disorienting music plays]
[Beesha] Bubs!
[gasps]
[gentle music plays]
I’m so sorry I left you.
Hey, get that girl.
[ominous music plays]
[music ends] So I can give her a tender embrace.
Oh, what a wonderful child she is.
[amusing music plays] Now, stop!
You’re tickling my whiskers, you little whisker-tickler.
[rummaging] Oh!
Are you looking for this?
[gasps] Uh…
Oh, bless her heart.
I think she wants to free the Muggle-Wumps, Jim.
Oh? I would hope so.
It’s the right thing to do.
Go free, you precious creatures.
[chuckling] Go free!
Thank you very much.
It feels so good to be good, don’t it, James?
It do feel good, like a summer breeze.
[blows] Ooh!
[dramatic music plays]
[Twitheads murmuring]
Didn’t they say we need those Muggle-Wumps to save the town?
Come on, let’s go. Everyone hurry.
[grunts] I kind of like having a beard.
Get a hold of yourself, Harold!
Stop! We’re not leaving yet.
[music ends]
Beesha, what are you doing?
We’re free.
There’s nothing more for us to do here.
You’re wrong, Mrs. M.
The effects of the toad’s toes will wear off, and the Twits will go back to being twits.
You know better than anyone that they will keep coming after your family, and hurting people, and hurting people, and nothing will change.
We have to give them a taste of their own medicine, with a trick to end all tricks.
But I can’t do it alone.
So who’s with me?
[yelling]
[heroic music plays]
[music ends]
[blowing]
[sighs happily]
[Dee] Beg pardon, Mayor and Mayor Twit, but you told us if we gave you $1,000 it’d save Triperot and make us billionaires when the park opened.
Ah, the billionaire thing and pretending we cared about Triperot.
Huh? [gasps]
[Twitheads gasp] That was all a lie.
We spent all your money on fake beards and fireworks.
For pity’s sake.
[sputtering] You people gave us hope.
And you gave us everything we ever dreamed of.
But seeing as how we got it by lying and cheating and hurting you, I… I don’t like the woman I’ve become.
[sobbing] I’m ashamed of myself.
I don’t like the man I’ve become.
I’m so sorry!
[both sobbing]
Well, “sorry” just ain’t gonna cut it.
No way. I just put a down payment on a new marimba.
You lied to us.
[Twitheads murmuring angrily]
[woman] We trusted you!
Oh, James, we have taken everything from these poor people.
There’s only one thing to do.
Take everything from ourselves.
[Mrs. Twit] Friends, we’ve heard your concerns.
We’ve got a solution.
[suspenseful note plays] We’re gonna blow up Twitlandia.
They’re gonna what?!
Blow up what?
[woman] They’re gonna blow it up?
You mean right here where we’re standing?
[man] These people are nuts.
[dramatic opera music plays]
[people screaming]
[Mr. Klurb wailing]
You know, I’m starting to think we should’ve listened to our daughter instead of the two strangers we saw getting arrested on the news.
I’m also thinking that also as well.
[music continues]
[wood groaning]
[people scream]
Oh, I love fireworks, James.
[imitating fireworks exploding]
[music swelling]
[people screaming]
[music ends]
[groans]
[ominous music plays]
What happened to our fun park?
I have no idea, but I’m certain it’s your fault.
Where on earth is our Muggle-Wumps?
[grunts]
[Twits groan] [Mr. Twit] There goes the lady one.
Get her.
[grunts]
[thuds]
[Mr. Twit groaning]
[suspenseful music plays]
[gasps] The Twits are coming!
The Twits are coming!
Go, go! More Hugtight glue on the floor.
Yeah, right there.
Come on, now.
All we wanna do is lock you in a cage for the rest of your life, and maybe eat you.
[Mr. Twit] That little beast is going inside our house.
Well, hurry up.
[grunts]
[florbnorbles chittering]
[chuckles]
Whoo!
[Beesha] Come on, get in!
[music swelling]
[tense music plays] [Mr. Twit sighs]
[Twits grumbling]
[grunts] [Mr. Twit] It went in there.
[mysterious music plays] [Mr. Twit groans] What is this?
[music intensifies]
[clock chimes loudly]
[both scream]
What’s happened? The floor is up there.
[gasps] We’re upside down.
We must be upside down.
I mean, we’re standing on the ceiling, looking at the floor.
[yelps]
[both grunting warily]
Oh, help! I’m beginning to feel giddy.
I don’t like this one little bit.
The blood’s going to my head.
I feel like I’m gonna die!
How do I… Oh, I’ve got it! I’ve got it!
We stand on our heads!
What are you saying?
Stand on your head, and then we’ll be the right way up.
[both straining]
Whoa.
That’s better.
[sighs]
Oh…
[strains] [gasps] I’m glued.
[gasps] It’s Hugtight Sticky Glue.
[both straining]
[heroic music plays]
[music intensifies]
[music swells]
[music ends]
[Mrs. Twit] We’ve been tricked.
You beastly little brats.
You cut us down this instant, or…
[tense sting] Or what? You’ll cook us in a pie?
[Twits gasp]
No, you won’t.
[solemn music plays] You’re never cooking another pie because you’re never getting free.
There’s enough cruelty and hatred without the two of you running around.
Trust me, the world will be a much better place without you in it.
[clacks]
[dramatic music plays]
[children giggling]
[groaning] [screaming]
[music swells, fades]
[cawing] Oh! Cut it out.
Please, somebody!
There’s a grackle eating my face!
Help! I have to go potty.
[Harold] Down with the Twits! Whoohoo!
[Mr. Napkin] Help!
[all laughing]
[grunts] Take that, you dang rabbit.
What do you really think will happen to the Twits?
[groans] Who gives a rip?
[all laughing]
[Bubsy] I know what’ll happen.
[ominous music plays]
They’re gonna get the Dreaded Shrinks.
That’s what happens if you stand on your head long enough.
First, their heads will shrink into their necks.
[wailing fearfully]
I’m shrinking!
Somebody save me!
I’m getting the Dreaded Shrinks!
[body bubbling, gurgling]
[Bubsy] Then their necks will shrink into their bodies.
[wailing in high voice]
Then their bodies will shrink into their legs.
Then their legs will shrink into their feet, until there’s nothing left in this whole world of Mr. and Mrs. Twit.
[music fades]
[all laughing]
Do you really think that’s gonna happen, Bubsy?
[giggles] I hope it does.
[chuckles] What do you think, Mrs. M?
Think they’ll melt into a puddle of goo?
[speaks gibberish] [chuckles] Sorry, what’s that?
[speaking gibberish] [chittering]
[chittering continues]
[melancholy, mysterious music plays]
Huh?
[Mandy chittering]
[chittering sadly]
I can’t understand the Muggle-Wumps, Beesha.
Can you?
[sputtering] Um, Mrs. M?
[chittering]
[Beesha] What’s happening?
Why can’t I understand you?
Why can’t I understand you?
[chittering sadly]
Please, no. No, I need you.
I… I need you!
[breathing rapidly]
[music fading]
[mother flea] Just as children with a deep sense of empathy can understand animals, children without it can’t.
[Twits straining]
It’s as simple as that.
[straining]
[grunts]
[pants]
You take all the good out of life.
And you’re the worst person I’ve ever met.
♪ Hating you is easy
‘Cause you’re horrible ♪
[gentle music plays]
[both grunting]
[both sigh]
[intriguing music plays]
[yawns]
[both grunt]
[both snoring]
[music intensifies]
[Mrs. Twit snores loudly]
[yells] [screams]
[both scream]
What on earth are you gribbly little grubs doing here?
[music fades]
We felt bad about the idea of you getting the Dreaded Shrinks and, you know, dying a horrible death.
So we came back to save you.
You did?
[hesitantly] Sure did.
[sighs] Hate is…
So easy.
You hate me, I hate you. Yay!
Now we’re enemies for life, and I never have to think about the fact that you’re both human beings.
Never have to wonder how badly you must’ve suffered to become this mean.
Or imagine what my parents went through when they left me.
[sighs]
[gentle music playing]
Hate’s easy.
But it’ll eat you up inside until all that’s left is an angry little twit.
I don’t wanna live in a world where hate wins.
So yeah, I forgive you.
You’re free.
[both straining]
[music fades]
Well, thank you.
Yeah. Thanks.
Now get over here so I can cook you both in a pie.
Get back here, you terrible little turnips!
I’m hungry!
[exciting music playing]
[grunts]
[grunts, screams]
[screaming]
[grunts]
[cracks]
[screams]
[pants, growls]
[Marty] Oh no.
I was afraid this might happen.
It was worth a try!
[growls]
[grunts]
[Marty] Whoa!
Whoa, whoa, whoa!
[laughs]
Good job, family.
[chuckling]
[Twits panting]
[Mr. Twit groaning]
[Mrs. Twit wheezing]
[boy flea]
Is that how the story ends?
[mother flea] Not quite.
[florbnorble]
Boing! Boing! Boing!
[florbnorbles chittering]
[Mr. Napkin] So long, Mr. and Mrs. Twit.
We’ll be taking back our orphanage now.
[heavy metal music playing] [excited chittering]
[music fades]
Well, that was unexpected.
Yes.
And after Mr. Napkin returned the orphanage to its rightful location, the Muggle-Wumps sold the formula for their tears to a multinational corporation which used the tears to end the world’s dependence on fossil fuels.
With the windfall of cash, the Muggle-Wumps bought the orphanage, adopted Beesha, Bubsy, and all of the other orphans, and hired Mr. Napkin as a parttime au pair.
For her part, Beesha was credited with saving Triperot from the Twits.
And with her idea to refill Tripe Lake with florbnorbles, Triperot became the fun capital of the world once more.
[boy flea] And they all lived happily ever after?
[mother flea] Something like that.
Now go to bed.
Oh, man. You’ve got to at least tell me what happened to the Twits.
[chuckles]
All right.
You might think that the Twits would’ve learned a lesson, but it’s not enough to just learn something.
You have to want to change, and then make an effort to actually do so.
Something the Twits were entirely unwilling to do.
This is the only way to get rid of the side effects of the Dreaded Shrinks, my angel.
Can you feel them stretching you?
I can. They’re stretching me like mad.
Good. That means it’s working.
Are you sure my feet are tied properly?
If them strings around my ankles break, it’ll be goodbye for me.
That’s enough pull to take me to the moon.
What a ghastly thought.
Wouldn’t want anything like that to happen, dear me.
[gasps]
No.
[screams] [chuckling] I’ll get you for this, you grizzly old grunion!
[rope snaps]
[laughs]
[screams] Oi!
[screams] Whoa!
[laughing]
[Mr. Twit protesting]
[uplifting music playing]
[Mr. Twit screaming]
[Mrs. Twit] Whoohoo!
Whoohoo!
No more beard, Mum!
[chuckles] We’re free! We’re free from the beard!
[music ends]
[mellow, percussive music plays]
♪ Tears are like magic ♪
♪ And laughing is fun ♪
♪ If you can have both of them ♪
♪ Why just have one? ♪
♪ Everything matters ♪
♪ And all things belong ♪
♪ Fear is the same place ♪
♪ That courage comes from ♪
♪ Family’s not only ♪
♪ Who you’re related to ♪
♪ It’s who you care for ♪
♪ And who cares for you ♪
♪ It’s easy to hate ♪
♪ What you don’t understand ♪
♪ If we don’t agree ♪
♪ Could you still take my hand? ♪
♪ Open the door ♪
♪ Look what we’ve done ♪
♪ Open your heart ♪
♪ How far we’ve come ♪
♪ Lessons in life ♪
♪ They are learned in reverse ♪
♪ My wisest friends ♪
♪ Talk completely backwards ♪
♪ Nothing is pointless ♪
♪ And nothing’s too much ♪
♪ You may feel small ♪
♪ But you are big enough ♪
♪ Open the door ♪
♪ Look what we’ve done ♪
♪ Open your heart ♪
♪ How far we’ve come ♪
♪ Open the door ♪
♪ Look what we’ve done ♪
♪ Open your heart ♪
♪ How far we’ve come ♪
[thunder rumbling]
♪ Open the door ♪
♪ Look what we’ve done ♪
♪ Open your heart ♪
♪ How far we’ve come ♪
♪ Open the door ♪
♪ Look what we’ve done ♪
[Twits scream]
♪ Open your heart ♪
♪ How far we’ve come ♪
[music ends]
[intriguing music plays]
[Twits panting]
[animals chittering]
[Mrs. Twit sighs]
[balloon pops] [screams, gasps]
[squawking]
[both scream]
[gasps]
[squawks]
[Mr. Twit gasps]
[Mr. Twit] No!
[Mrs. Twit groans]
[Twits screaming]
[both grunt]
[Mr. Twit sighs]
[animal snarls] What?
[ominous music playing]
Huh?
[animal snarls]
[both gasp]
Where on earth are we?
[footsteps thudding heavily]
[roars]
[Mr. Twit] It looks like…
Loompaland.
[plays jaunty melody]
[Muggle-Wumps growl]
I don’t like this. Not one little bit.
[Twits scream]
[laughs in deep voice]
[Twits scream]
Mm.
[Mr. Twit] I knew it would end like this.
[Mrs. Twit] This is your fault!
It’s your fault, you dung beetle.
[Mrs. Twit screams]
[romantic doowop music plays]
♪ Every day I fall in love with you ♪
♪ And then you hurt me ♪
♪ Splitting my heart in two ♪
♪ But then I fall once again ♪
♪ Well, I bought you a diamond ring ♪
♪ Then later you pawned it ♪
♪ Saying you’d lost it, babe ♪
♪ Like a fool, I bought it again ♪
♪ Please ♪
♪ Please don’t trick me again ♪
♪ Please don’t trick me again ♪
♪ Please don’t trick me again ♪
♪ Well, I took you to the opera ♪
♪ I thought it was fancy ♪
♪ I went to the bathroom, babe ♪
♪ And when I came out
You had left me alone ♪
♪ Well, we can’t go on like this
My darling ♪
♪ My heart, it can’t take it ♪
♪ If you trick me again, my sweet ♪
♪ Your heart, I will break it ♪
♪ So please ♪
♪ Please don’t trick me again ♪
♪ Please don’t trick me again ♪
♪ Please don’t trick me again ♪
♪ Come on, darling ♪
♪ All I want is not to be lied to ♪
♪ Please don’t trick me again ♪
♪ I don’t wanna trick you
You don’t wanna trick me ♪
♪ Can’t we all just get along? ♪
♪ I love you ♪
♪ Do you love me? ♪
♪ Why are we always
Fightin’ all the time? ♪
♪ I don’t like it ♪
[pleasant music plays]
♪ The world is red in tooth and claw ♪
♪ Jaws that bite and teeth that gnaw ♪
♪ Hear their screams ♪
♪ Their cries and roars ♪
♪ Our lives are nasty, brutish and short ♪
♪ But in dreams you are safe ♪
♪ In dreams you are free ♪
♪ In that beautiful place ♪
♪ Close your eyes and you’ll see ♪
♪ The flowers that smile ♪
♪ The sun, it will shine ♪
♪ And nothing can hurt you now ♪
♪ Only the lucky will survive ♪
♪ Not everyone comes back alive ♪
♪ The light goes out ♪
♪ The shadows fall ♪
♪ No one will hear you when you call ♪
♪ But in dreams you are safe ♪
♪ In dreams you are free ♪
♪ In that beautiful place ♪
♪ Close your eyes and you’ll see ♪
♪ The flowers that smile ♪
♪ The sun, it will shine ♪
♪ And nothing can hurt you now ♪
[dramatic heavy metal music plays]
[music ends]
[Dorcas hums]
♪ Hooray for ham ♪
♪ Lala, lala, it’s suppertime
Hooray for ham, haha, haha ♪
♪ Hooray for ham ♪
[object shatters]
