American animated television series

Duckman: Private Dick/Family Man (commonly known as Duckman) is an American animated sitcom that aired on the USA Network from March 5, 1994, through September 6, 1997 and reruns were shown on both Cartoon Network Spain and Comedy Central. The series centers on Eric T. Duckman (voiced by Jason Alexander), a lascivious, widowed, anthropomorphic duck who lives with his family in Los Angeles and works as a private detective.

Season 1


I, Duckman [1.01]

Duckman: All right, that's it! I've had it! For all the response I get around here, I might as well be invisible! [starts fading away] I know your mother died. I know she left you and the house to your sister, but I still live here! I'm still the man of the house, and demand to be heard! To be recognized! To be... [fades; Grandma-ma farts]

Duckman: I don't get it. I break for animals if they're big enough to dent my car. I don't pop any zits above the eye line. I treat others the way I'd like to be treated.

Duckman: My own family ignores me, and who can blame them? There's nothing special about me, nothing unique. I'm just one more duck detective who works with a pig and lives with the twin sister of his dead wife, three sons in two bodies, and a comatose mother-in-law who's got so much gas, she's a fire hazard.

Cornfed: It's the dream again, Duckman. You're letting it win. I know. I used to have a recurring dream. I dream I fell and hit my head on a fishbowl. Hurt myself just bad enough to work the graveyard shift at a convenience store. A group of Hare Krishnas always came in at 4 a.m. and bought 16 gallons of Mr. Slushi and a package of banana flavored Ding Dongs. Then the Swedish Bikini Team jumped out of a magazine and read Moby-Dick to me inside a giant carton of cottage cheese. "Why?" I'd ask myself. "What could it mean? Am I mad? Or is the world just a mystery too complex to understand?"

Duckman: You hear that, Cornfed? I'm not special. Even my own killer doesn't think so. [Cornfed whacks his face]
Cornfed: Get ahold of yourself, Duckman.
Duckman: It's true, Cornfed. I'm just like that bomber, I... I lost my identity when I lost my wife.
Cornfed: But you still have something he doesn't, remember?
Duckman: His chainsaw?
Cornfed: Your children. You're still the only father they have. That makes you special. No one else could've created the family that you did. [beat] I mean that in a good way.
Duckman: Oh, what's the point? Their own mother didn't think I was up to raising them, [slumps on Beatrice's gravestone] and maybe I'm not. Maybe that's why they ignore me. Beatrice made me a better person. Without her here to help, I'm... I'm just not a very good father.

Cornfed Pig: Things sure have changed over the years.
Duckman: [tearing up] I miss her. You know, tomorrow would have been our wedding anniversary. I forgot. I guess I blocked it out. [He wipes a tear away] It's the first one I've had to spend without her.
Cornfed: That may explain the way you've been feeling lately.

T.V. or Not to Be [1.02]

Duckman: I'll bet those mindless pod people who believe in that thing still wait up for the tooth fairy!
Fluffy: Why shouldn't they?
Duckman: Because he's rotting in a Turkish jail! Will you hurry up with those disguises? Four of those mindless pod people are my family!
Uranus: Okay, Mr. Duckman, but may I say I don't think you should just dismiss the notions of miracles.
Fluffy: It's a miracle every time a new leaf grows, every time a newborn baby cries...
Duckman: [kicks Fluffy into a paper shredder] Every time you shut up and do what I tell ya! Now, turn me into one of those art world freakos or you're next!
Uranus: [chuckles nervously] When you are in a hurry...
[the first disguise is Salvador Dali, complete with a melting watch]
Duckman: Nope. [the next disguise is a piece of abstract art similar to that of Pablo Picasso] Uh-uh. [the final disguise is Vincent van Gogh] Who's this supposed to be?
Cornfed: I'm guessing, but I think it's a highly misunderstood painter whose rhythmic linear brushstrokes were an arrogant break from the old masters, and it was so desperate for a unique artistic identity that he was trapped in a hellish downward spiral of hostility, madness and self-mutilation.
Duckman: The beard's cool, let's do it. What about your disguise? [Cornfed opens his fang-filled mouth wide] GRAHH!! Who are you supposed to be?!! [Cornfed takes off fang dentures]
Cornfed: Your agent.

Gripes of Wrath [1.03]


Psyche [1.04]

Duckman: [driving from the hospital] Cornfed... do you think I'm attractive? [Cornfed pauses]
Cornfed: ...Sorry, Duckman. I don't date people I work with.
Duckman: No spam for brains, do ya think there's anything wrong with my bill?!
Cornfed: You mean the fact that it curves to one side, the nostrils don't match, it's covered with nicotine stains, acne, scars, varicose veins, and it whistles when you chew? [he turns to Duckman for a beat] I mean, no. Nothing I can see.

Gland of Opportunity [1.05]


Ride the High School [1.06]

Beatrice: You have kidney stones older than her.
Duckman: Come here chicken and prepare to meet your colonel.
Duckman: Your washed up, dont be suprised if MTV Unplugged starts calling.

A Civil War [1.07]

Duckman: Bunch of dead-skin no-humor pansies! You tell 'em an icebreaker or two about women's libbers, gays, environmentalists, several minorities, the homeless, couple of religions, anorexics, obese people, the handicapped, old farts, baldness, and people who walk real goofy 'cause they just had a vasectomy, and suddenly they get all sensitive, like I offended one of them or something! Makes you wonder why they asked me to talk in the first place!

Duckman: The reason people come to the Duckman Detective Agency is Duckman, not Cornfed!
Uranus: [over intercom] Phonecall for Mr. Cornfed.
Fluffy: Fax for Mr. Cornfed.
Uranus: Carrier pigeon for Mr. Cornfed.
Fluffy: Semaphore for Mr. Cornfed.
Uranus: Smoke signals for Mr. Cornfed.
Duckman: [shouts out the window] CORNFED DOESN'T WORK HERE ANYMORE!!!
Indian Chief: Hmm, let's try him at home. [picks up a phone and dials Cornfed's number]
Duckman: What are you bothering me with that stuff for?! I told ya - he's gone! Fired! He was nothing but a big pink weight on my shoulders, and we're better off without him!
Fluffy: If you say so...
Uranus: How's the case going without him?
Duckman: Case? What case? Oh right, the case! I was just about to put it to bed. [chuckles] Along with the client.
Fluffy: Hmm. The kind of joke he'd probably enjoy telling when Cornfed was around.
Duckman: Hey, maybe it's time for you two hairballs to do something around here besides irritating the hell outta me!
Fluffy: You want our help?!
Uranus: On a case?!
Duckman: I'll start with a couple questions, not that I don't already know the answers. I do. I just wanna, you know, see how you're thinking. Suppose you're the chairman of a large--
Uranus: Uh-uh-uh-uh. Chair person.
Duckman: Suppose you're the chair person of a large corporation that makes meat on a stick.
Fluffy: Oh, Mr. Duckman! We couldn't support the killing of animals for food!
Uranus: Nor the senseless slaughter of trees for sticks!
Duckman: Okay... You're the chair people of a large, environmentally friendly corporation that produces wholesome apples. Now! You're supposed to prove that someone died of natural causes. What would you do?
Fluffy: Are the apple free-range, or are they grown in captivity?
[Duckman throws Fluffy and Uranus out the window, who then land on the street and get run over by a streetsweeper]

Not So Easy Riders [1.08]

Duckman: Did I ever tell you my dad's last words to me?
Cornfed: Mm-hmm -- "Careful, son, I don't think the safety's on."
Duckman: Before that!
Duckman: (holding sign) I Promise Not to Jump Out At A Red Light And Abduct Your Children For $$$$$
Duckman (running from IRS agent) Seems like such a waste to go to jail JUST for tax evasion.
Duckman (runs into biker bar and trips on bottle into a biker)
Biker: Watch it jerk.
Duckman: Who you calling jerk you Long haired, Fat Bellied, Goofy Tattoo'd 60's Villager Wannabe Biker freak?
Duckman: Shouldn't you be be out revving your engines really loud while people are trying to sleep or weaving in and out of traffic with complete disregard for the safety of others? Or beating up hippies at a free rock concert?

It's the Thing of the Principal [1.09]

Bernice: Little bubbly?
Duckman: I know it's the water jets plus that dam digestive problem of mine. you didn't mean the water did ya?

Duckman: Hummana Hummana Howwa
Vanessa La Pert: Very impressive Mr. Duckman, but why are you telling me in Cherokee that you have raccoons in your pants?

Duckman: It looks a lot worse than it actually is.
Cornfed: Not unlike nipple clamps.

[The door knocks]
Bernice: Who is it?
Ajax: Ajax
Bernice: You don't have to knock here, You can just come in here.
Ajax: I knew there was one house I could do that at.

Cellar Beware [1.10]


American Dicks [1.11]


About Face [1.12]


Joking the Chicken [1.13]

[Duckman walks onstage in front of an audience]
Duckman: I know you all came here to see Iggy Catalpa, because you think he's funny. Because you like his style. Because you just plain like him, right?
Audience: Yeah! Yeah!
Duckman: But you just think you do! Because you are manipulated into thinking you do—by him, King Chicken! [Bernice and others gasp in shock to see King Chicken on stage with a cane] He did it the same way they manipulate us into buying toothpaste, car wax, even politicians! All prepackaged, a least offensive, most appealing alternative. But it's precisely when humor is offensive that we need it most. Comedy should provoke! It should blast through prejudices, challenge preconceptions! Comedy should always leave you different than when it found you!
[the audience start murmuring to each other]
King Chicken: The rabble seems roused.
Duckman: Sure, humor can hurt, even alienate, but the risk is better than the alternative: a steady diet of innocuous, childproof, flavorless mush! Demand to be challenged! To be offended! To be treated like thinking, reasoning adults! And raise your children to be the same! Don't let a comedian, a network, a congressional committee, or an evil genius take away your freedom to laugh at whatever you want.

Season 2


Season 3


Forbidden Fruit [3.2]

Charles: Mail call! Dad got a package.
Bernice: Hm... a videotape in a plain brown wrapper.
[Duckman salivating and chuckling]
Bernice: From the boys' school!

King Chicken: [after describing his plan to ruin Duckman's life] And why did I do it?
[A crowd outside of Duckman's house speaks together in monotone]: Duckman made you an outsider in grammar school, so you wanted to make Duckman an outsider in society. Mwah-ha-ha, bawk, bawk, bawk.
King Chicken: You're fans!

Fluffy: Mr. Duckman, you've only been here eight hours, and already you've turned our whole world topsy-turvy!
Uranus: We spent the entire morning burning your sheets, and your mattress, and the bed, and the carpet around the bed leading into the bathroom! And the bathroom!
Fluffy: You have to treat people with respect, Mr. Duckman, whether it's what you say to them or how you act in their house!
Eric Duckman: [apathetically, takes the fried eggs he made from their rare finch eggs] Uh-huh, look, these eggs need a little ketchup, is there anything else?
Uranus: [furious] As a matter of fact, there is. Get the [beep] out of here, Mr. Duckman.
[Duckman stands in shocked silence]
Fluffy: You deaf, Mr. [beep]hole?! Get the [beep] out of here before we [beep]ing tear your [beep]ing [beep] off and shove it up your [beep]ing [beep]!
[They point at the door and he sadly leaves, giving a brief hopeful smile before they slam the door on him]
Fluffy: Ooh, that felt pretty [beep]ing good!

Room With a Bellevue [3.6]

Duckman: [talking with two psychiatrists after being committed to a mental asylum] Sue me, I'm colorful! Doesn't mean I belong in here, making potholders with the wackos. Besides, what gives you the right to judge other people, anyway?
Psychiatrist 1: The diploma. Judging people is pretty much the main benefit.
Psychiatrist 2: That and the license plates with "MD" on them! You can park almost anywhere!
Duckman: And when you think about it, isn't that exactly the point?!
[The psychiatrists look at each other in confusion]
Duckman: Parking?
[Both psychiatrists smile and relax]
Duckman: And driving, and shopping, and eating, and working. Somewhere, somehow, they all got chewed up and spit back out, and they don't taste like living anymore. Don't you see what it's like in this deranged Waring Blender of a world? Every day is an agonizing ordeal, like balancing a pot of scalding water on your head while people whip your legs and butt. [pauses] Ah, you never forget your senior prom... [suddenly louder] You think I'm sick? Well, the only disease I've got is modern life! A schnutbusting gauntlet of inefficiency and misery that's one long parade of letdowns, put-downs, trickle-downs, shutouts, freeze-outs, sellouts, numbnuts, nincompoops and nimrods, all making every day as much fun as waxing a flaming Pontiac with your tongue, where even if you do luck into the possibility of some fleeting pleasure, like, say, if some nymphomaniac telephone operators with the muscle control of Rumanian mat-slappers agree to a little strip air hockey, it'll be over before it starts, 'cause some vowel-lacking, feta-reeking cab-jockey slams his Checker up your hatchback, and the cab is owned by some piñata spanker from a Santeria cult in Xoacalpa who starts shaking chicken bones at you and gives you a boil on your neck so big, all it needs is Michael Jordan's autograph to make it complete! And even with all this -- with ALL THIS -- I still drag my sorry butt off the Sealy every morning and stick my face in the reaping machine for one more day, knowing when it's time to flash the cosmic card key at those Pearly Gates, I won't be in the coffin anyway, 'cause some underhanded undertaker sold my heart, pancreas, and other assorted Good 'N' Plenty to that same Santeria cult! So does anybody really wonder why anybody is hanging onto sanity by the atoms on the tips of their fingernails while life dirty-dances on their digits?! And is it really any wonder that I seem DERANGED?!
[Silence; both psychiatrists are stunned and speechless]
Duckman: [chuckles] That's probably nothing you haven't heard a hundred times before.

Season 4


Bonfire of the Panties [4.6]

Cornfed: [talking about giving Duckman a "love potion" to increase his appeal to women] Given your proven record of mindbogglingly destructive excess we felt giving you more than that would be like giving Michael Jackson a drum of peanut oil and some Cub Scouts. Allegedly.

Role With It [4.7]

Native American: Remember always -- our strength comes from our blood, from our family.
[Duckman and his family pass in a car, bickering loudly]
[The Native stares blankly and sheds a tear]

Dr. Susan Fox: Duckman, I've never met anyone like you, and I don't know you well but this much I do know about you -- you'll fight to have your steak just right, you'll fight not to have to wear a jacket, and you've fought like hell over a hundred times today to get a peek down my blouse.

Four Weddings Inconceivable [4.28]

[At the end of the episode...]
Woman: Stop! Stop the wedding!
Duckman: Sold, Sally! Too late! You should've... [gasps]
Fluffy and Uranus: [gasp]
Bernice, King Chicken, and Beverly: [gasp]
[The woman turns out to be Beatrice, Duckman's supposedly deceased wife]
Duckman: Beatrice.
Bernice: Beatrice?!
King Chicken: Beatrice?!
Beverly: Beatrice.
Honey Chicken: Who's Beatrice?
Duckman: My wife. Uh, my, uh, my first wife. I-I mean... [to Beatrice] You're alive.
Beatrice: Well, yeah. Sure I am. Didn't Cornfed ever tell you?
[The crowd gasps]
Cornfed: Uh... Duckman, I can explain.
[Beatrice and Duckman stare at each other for a moment]
[To be continued...?]
[the episode ends.]


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