The objects are topped with socks, bottles, even a tin can be lashed on with rope. (Cut to a collection of pipes and sticks poking up from a dented trash can and turn down slowly toward the base on the next line. That’s the last of the finishing touches. (Fade into a shot of them outside the camera points up at them from the ground.)īlossom: All right, girls. Suddenly all three faces light up with smiles. (The girls watch him go with great concern, then trade a brief, silent glance. We’d better get home before the liver spoils. (He wipes it away and starts o.c.) Come on, girls. I can’t afford these! (A tear forms in his eye.) Oh, never mind. Professor: No wonder they’re called the 2000 clubs. Cut to behind the clubs again now he is as crushed as a little boy who has just spied a wonderful Christmas gift that he badly wants but knows he will not get.) (He-and we-now see the price tag for the set, which retails for two large. (Turn down toward the base.) A true marvel of craftsmanshi–oh, dear! Professor: (from o.c.) Oh, my, they are beautiful. (Cut to a close-up of the top of the golf bag.) Professor: The Pro Excellence 2000 Golf Clubs! (The girls’ reflections appear by his own.) Only twelve of these sets exist in the whole world! (Cut to behind the clubs, looking out the window.) Oh, my game would be perfect if I had these. He acts as if he has just found the Holy Grail.) A sign next to them advertises the “HOLE IN 1 DEAL.” The Professor’s silhouette leans into view his reflection appears across from it in the window. The three zeroes are interlocked a golf tee is painted below the bottommost one. In the front window is a set of gleaming golf clubs set against a backdrop of a putting green The bag holding them has the number 2000 emblazoned on it in a single column of large white digits. Finally, he raises one arm and points ahead of himself.) (Long shot of the Professor, who looks as if someone has hit him over the head with a board-eyes wide, body frozen and rigid. The eggs shatter and spray everywhere in slow motion. ( Extreme close-up of his pipe as it tumbles out of his mouth in slow motion, then follow the groceries, now hurtling toward the ground. Buttercup looks back at him worriedly and stops her sisters, however, do not notice until they thump into her.) (The gifts wink out in a puff of smoke.) You see, girls, those gifts are kind of funky, but they’re charming, and- (Pan ahead of him to the girls he continues o.c.) -well, that’s all I really ne. They will never be mistaken for Everlast knockoffs.) (A pair of boxing gloves flicks into view by the other presents. Professor: (laughing uneasily) Oh…that-that’s right, made out of socks. (A rough picture of the Professor, complete with pipe, appears by the bowl.) A-And-and Bubbles, with your, uh…uh… (softly, to her) what-what’d you make? (A mental picture of a somewhat misshapen bowl appears over his head, and he tries his best to be elated at the memory.) I remember last year, Blossom, you made me that. Besides, you know I don’t need material possessions. Professor: Oh, girls, anything you make me’ll be fantastic. Bubbles whispers to the other two, after which Blossom addresses him.)īlossom: Well, what do you want for a present? (His idea of a favorite dish makes the girls queasy for a moment. Professor: Well, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be able to celebrate it.īlossom: Speaking of celebration, what are you making this year? Professor: Oh, girls, Father’s Day is my favorite holiday. They pass several shops whose front windows are filled with fatherly-type gifts: cigars, bikes, and so forth.) The Professor has his pipe in his mouth and carries a bag of groceries the girls float along just in front of him. (Close-up of them going along the sidewalk. Narrator: Yes, everyone is excited and getting ready-even Professor Utonium and the Powerpuff Girls. (Dissolve to a busy street, with a supermarket visible at the left side of the screen.) (patting eggs) These little guys are gonna hatch. Three eggs sit next to it-we have a father-to-be on our hands.)įather Bird: And, boy, I can’t wait. It wears a hat and a proud smile and has a pipe in its mouth. (On the end of this line, cut to a close-up of a bird in a nest on one of the tree’s limbs. (Dissolve to the suburbs a tree stands near the camera.) But not as beautiful as it will be this Sunday, because it’s Father’s Day. (Opening shot: the city skyline just after sunrise.)
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