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Whacked!

2002 video game

Whacked! is a party video game for the Xbox developed by Presto Studios in 2002. It takes place in a game show where 7 characters who each personify one of the seven deadly sins compete in slapstick style games for a chance to win an unknown Prize.


Auditions

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Lucky

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Producer: Next! [a chicken walks up onstage with a magician's hat] No, no, no. Not another magic act. Please. [as soon as the chicken takes off the hat, it is shot out of nowhere] Holy sh--!
[Lucky appears onstage with a gun strapped to his arm, laughing maniacally]
Lucky: Got ya right in yer fat feathered ass!
Producer: What the hell is goin' on?! Security!
Lucky: [looks inside the hat] Aw, now, come on. It's gotta be in there somewhere. [kicks the hat in rage] Oh, dammit all to bloody hell! [to the producer] Alright. I know you've got them. WHERE ARE THEY?!
Producer: What the hell are you talking about?
Lucky: You know what I'm talking about, ya filthy maggot!
Producer: Actually, I don't.
Lucky: Where... are... MY... FEET?!? [aims his gun at the producer]]
Producer: Hey, now, wait one minute here! I don't have your feet, kid! But... well, I know who does.
Lucky: What's that you say? Who the [beep!] is it?!
Producer: Well, it's... uh... Actually, well... it's one of the contestants in our game show.
Lucky: Oooh! Let me at'im! LET ME AT'IM!!!!
Producer: Sure, kid. Sure, can do. Tell ya what: Just go through that curtain there and have a seat in the green room.
Lucky: Yeah, well it better be quick! [goes to the curtain]
Producer: That kid's a sensation! [Lucky shoots the chicken again] Pure rage in a bottle! [laughs] Oh, I'm tellin' ya, this is gonna be one hell of a show!

Eugene

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Producer: Next!
Eugene: [walks up onstage] Hello there, eh? It's really great to be here. Wow, a real live TV studio.
Producer: CASTING, IS THIS THE BEST YOU CAN DO?! Look, four eyes, I hate to break it to ya, but you're carrying about 20 pounds of ballast and there's no way you're flyin' with those flippers. You're gonna get pummeled out there!
Eugene: Well, y'know, this extra padding forms a highly absorbent layer of protective armor [in his head] It'll take a head better than your flabby ass, eh?
Producer: Hmm, somebody's gotta take a little abuse on this show besides me. So, tell me, kid, do you think you can handle weapons of mass destruction?
Eugene: Oh, sure! We used'em all the time back in the Elite Royal Klondike Mounted Moose Patrol... Squadron... Thing... Lodge. [in his head] Not to mention, my beak is a registered killing machine in five provinces.
Producer: Alright, you asked for it, buddy boy.
Eugene: [in his head] Bring it on!
[missiles are fired at Eugene and he dodges them Matrix-style... only to find out that it was all in his head; in reality, a single is fired at him]
Eugene: Ah, not good!
[Eugene tries to run away from the missile, but it chases him and blows up on him; Eugene is till alive]
Producer: Would ya take a look at that? He's still standing!
Eugene: [chuckles] Well, that sure was fun. But, y'know, if it wasn't exactly what you were looking for, I'd be happy to do it again or something. [in his head] Yeah? Over my dead body!
Producer: Well, I gotta hand it to ya, kid: You sure know how to take a hit.
[Eugene faints]

Toof

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Producer: Next! [Toof appears onstage] Your name?
Toof: Toof!
Producer: Can you spell that for me?
Toof: Uh.. Um... [shakes his head]
Producer: That's okay, kid. We won't judge you on your spelling. Now, what makes you think you'd make a good contestant in our little show? [Toof yells gibberish] He's got an appetite for destruction. [Toof nods] Good answer, kid. Good answer.
Toof: Thanks.
Producer: Alright, kid, why don'tcha show me what you got? [a fanfare plays but nothing happens] Maybe the kid needs some help. CAN WE GET SOME PROPS HERE?!
[a cannon is rolled up next to Toof; through Toof's eyes, the cannon is a hotdog; Toof bites onto the cannon and the fuse it lit]
Producer: This oughta be good. [a cannonball is fired into Toof's mouth and he swallows it; a rumbling is heard] Sweet mother of God, HE'S ABOUT TO BLOW!
[Toof let's out a huge, explosive fart]
Toof: [belches] Yummy! [laughs]
Producer: No doubt about it, the kid's got talent.

Lucy

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Producer: Next!
Lucy: [from behind a changing curtain] Oh, hello there, Mr. Producer. I'll be just a minute here.
Producer: Okay...
Lucy: Let's see. Target market: mostly male, 18-24 years old. Interests: senseless violence, high-tech weaponry, pain, humiliation. Hey... [pulls out a military vest] Maybe this will do the trick. Huh, too boyish, and definitely not too compatible with my highlights.
Producer: Uh, honey, are ya plannin' on comin' out here anytime soon?
Lucy: Uh, almost ready, sweetie! [pulls out a cheerleader's dress] Ah, the good old days, but not quite provocative enough.
Producer: I see where you're going with this, gorgeous, and I got three words of advice for you: Less is more!
Lucy: Bingo! I know exactly what you mean. [grabs an outfit] Ooh, this one never fails. [puts on the outfit] Ready or not, here I come! [comes out from behind the curtain wearing a thin plastic dress]
Producer: Oh, baby! Now you're talking my language! But you might've gone a little too far.
Lucy: Oh, too far? Baby, you ain't seen nothing yet. [the dress bursts, leaving her in the nude]
Producer: Now that is what I call "naked ambition". THAT'S A WRAP FOR TONIGHT!!!

Lance

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Producer: Next! [Lance runs up onstage] What's your name, kid?
Lance: Well, the ladies call me the Loin King. [chuckles] But you can call me Lance.
Producer: Okay, Lance. Let's get this audition goin' here.
Lance: Oh, yeah, right. "Audition". What can I do for you, man?
Producer: Well, you can start by showing me your shtick.
Lance: Whoa! Dude, I don't know what my agent told you, but I don't do that kind of thing... anymore.
Producer: [sighs] Well, what do you do then?
Lance: Well, the ladies always love some of this. [does a few poses]
Producer: Oh, for crying out loud, who is this clown?! Get him outta here! [a cane pulls Lance offstage] Next! [Lance comes back lifting a huge barbell with one finger] What, you again? I thought I told you to get lost. [a saw cuts a circle around Lance and he falls through the hole; Lance comes back swinging on a rope Tarzan style] Will somebody please get rid of this guy?!
[a dog runs up to Lance carrying a lit stick of dynamite]
Lance: Aw, ain't you a cute little furry dude? What've you got for me there? [picks up the stick] A birthday candle! Guess I should make a wish, huh? [blows out the fuse] Whoa, trick candles. [the fuse lights again] Good one. [the dynamite explodes in his face] Listen, man, I really gotta jam. Are we through here?
Producer: Well, I really gotta hand it to you, kid: You sure got tenacity.
Lance: Oh, that. Don't worry, I'm taking pills for it.

Charity

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Producer: Next!
Charity: [runs up onstage, taking lots of things] Ooh, mine! Mine! Mine! Mine!
Producer: Ain't she cute? If she keeps that up, we'll have to make her executive producer.
Charity: Where's the prize?! I like prizes!
Producer: I'm sure you do, sweetie pie, but first, I'd like you to tell me why you wanna be a contestant in our little game show.
Charity: I WANT THE PRIZE!!
Producer: No kidding!
Charity: I have lots of prizes. I have a grand prize, and a booby prize, and door prize, and a consolation prize, and bulletin prize, and a Nobel Prize, and a....
Producer: Well, kid, we've got the prize to end all prizes.
Charity: Whoo, mine!
Producer: Not so fast, kid. We can't just give you the prize. See, it's all locked up, right there behind in that big--
Charity: PRIZE!!! [runs up to a big safe where the Prize is] MINE!! [pulls out a blowtorch and tries to cut the safe open]
Producer: Whoa! Hey, listen here, kid... [Charity notices the blowtorch has no effect, so she pulls out some dynamite and places it on the safe] What the--
[the dynamite explodes but doesn't even leave a dent on the safe; Charity climbs up and tries to open it]
Charity: Mine!
Producer: Well, ya gotta hand it to her, that kid's a real go-getter.

Otto

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Producer: Next! [the chair carrying Otto walks up onstage; Otto is fast asleep] What's your name, pal?
Otto: Nothing...
Producer: What am I, talking to myself? CAN I GET A NAME HERE OR WHAT?!
[the chair flings Otto around]
Otto: Hey... It's my turn to hit the pinata.
[Otto's wallet falls out and the chair kicks it to the producer]
Producer: Thank you. Let's see here. This thing expired five years ago. So, tell me kid, why do you wanna be a contestant in our little game show?
[the chair begins hitting Otto, trying to wake him up]
Otto: Thank you, sir. May I have another...?
Producer: Who is this clown?! I can't use him! Get him outta here! Next!
[the chair flings Otto into the air and hits him, causing him to ricochet all around the stage until he finally lands back on the chair]
Otto: Hey, man... You call yourself a chiropractor...?
Producer: Okay, so the kid stinks, but that chair is a sensation!


Van Tastic

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  • Hey there, guys and gals and all you sick weirdos in between! Are you ready to get...? [Audience: WHACKED!]
  • Hello, everybody, and welcome to the show! Here's how the game is played: the way you win is by competing against each other in a series of lighthearted, and potentially lethal games. [the audience cheers] Do I know how to get ratings or what? If you survive all our deadly levels of fun, you will be rewarded with, drumroll please... The Prize! What you may ask is this fabulous Prize? Well, I can't tell you that, but I can tell you it's FANTASTIC!! It's big, it's shiny, it's a pure silk, air-conditioned, chocolate-covered, solid-gold, tax-free, EXTRA CHEESE, DOUBLE-D, FINGER-LICKING LAP DANCE OF WOW!!!!
  • Now that we've met our fascinating contestant, it's time to get... [Audience: WHACKED!] Weird. It's like you read my mind. [laughs] Let's take a look at Stage 1!
  • [after the player completes Stage 1] Was that something or was that something?! I haven't seen action like that since I taught Emperor Nero that trip with the lions! Now, let's see if the... [notices the viewer numbers are running slow; chuckles nervously] It seems a few of our viewers have taken a timeout to drain their lizard at the porcelain reptile house. No problem. This'll give old Van-man the opportunity to stress to our contestant that they're gonna have to take off the kid gloves and put brass knuckles on their brass knuckles if they even want a shot at getting... the Prize! I thought I'd up the bruise factor by raising the star count a bit and introducing a marvelous marvel of the technological age that in scientific circles known as... The Big Red Button!
  • [talking to his network director on the phone] Yes? Yes? Well, of course, it's a great show. And if it's anyone's fault, I think I'd better step up and take the blame. When you hired Van Tastic, you ordered a triple decker talent sandwich with a side order of spunk. What? The Prize? Relax! I've been doing this since Adam and Eve were wetting their fig leaves, and believe me, this is one game that nobody ever wins. Besides, I'll let you in on a little secret: there is no Prize. [laughs] Yeah. You know how much prizes cost? [laughs and then notices the camera] Is that thing on?
  • [after completing Stage 3] I'm sorry if I'm getting a little weepy, folks. But when I see a contestant that I raise from a week-kneed cream puff blossom into a mean, unclean back-stabbing machine, I go a little girly. But never mind all that. Let's talk about something more fun: me! King Midas, you can pick up your pension check, because Van Tastic is the new kid with the golden touch. And this show 24 karat game show perfection! I don't like to toot my horn, but... [his hotline phone rings and he gasps in fright] Yes? [the network director yells angrily] Yes. Yes. But, sir, the ratings are skyrocketing. Yes. I know somebody's winning. The Prize? Oh, well, it's just a trifle. Well, we've just promised them a few things. Well, you know, like.... anything they desire. Sir. Sir, I think you're overreacting just a tad. Yes, I know they could ask for that: no prejudice, world peace, more commercials with babies. Yeah, I know, but look at these clowns! They're not gonna ask for that. Of course not! Besides, nobody ever wins. Sir, nobody ever wins! [hangs up] That was some monologue wasn't it, folks? Hey, those method acting classes are really paying off.
  • Oodbray! [a phonering is heard; Van looks to find that the ring is coming from the most hellish looking phone; he picks it up to hear the angry yellings of the network director] Yes? Yes? But- [Network Director: Somebody won! You're fired!] But the ratings! But you can't! [the director hangs up] I can't believe it. This is the last show. I've been... CANCELLED!! [breaks down into tears; one of the seven characters walk up to Van and ask for the Prize] Prize?! PRIZE?! The show's been cancelled! There is no Prize! [the character insist on asking for the Prize] Yes.. Yes! That's it! Congratulations! You passed the... Infamous Phony Show Cancellation Round, and now have the opportunity to either walk away with the Prize, or by simply signing this newly invented contract, you can play another round for a shot at winning the new, improved Grand Prize!
  • [after Van takes off his fake head and reveals himself to be a demon] Welcome, honored contestants to this: the last round of the game! Since I've graciously gone out of my way to eliminate all the other contestants, this special collectable, signed and numbered, limited edition... uh, set will be played against a true champion, an adonist, a Hercules, a paragon of physical perfection, and let's face it, America's sweetheart: ME!!! [laughs maniacally] Well, and a couple of my pals. [gestures to some more demons] Just a few old frat buddies. Anyway, if you actually beat me and my pals-- Yeah, I had a hard time saying that with a straight face. --If you beat us, you'll finally get your undeserving hands on the fabulous Grand Prize! [laughs maniacally as the contestant falls into a pit]
  • [if the player loses against him] Don't go away empty-handed. Take a copy of our home game!
  • [if the player wins the game and the Prize(which depends on which character the player plays as); Van gets a call from his network director] Yes? Yes? Yes? Really?! Well, yes, I thought it was great, too! You're kidding! You mean... YES!!! This is Van Tastic, and we're back on the air!

Dialogue

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Van Tastic: Well, Lucy! Are you naked, or do my X-ray contact lenses really work?
Lucy: Funny how some dresses just... don't wanna stay on.
Van Tastic: I guess they don't when they've got it good.
Lucy: You're funny, and so handsome. I just wanna run my fingers through your... [runs her fingers through Van's hair; a screeching is heard] Helmet?! Why don't you and I find some place more private, and talk about the big Prize you're gonna give me.
Van Tastic: I'd love to give you my... prize, but you have to win the game first!
Lucy: What if I gave you a prize first? [pulls off her blue censor bars to reveal her private parts all fuzzy]
Van Tastic: Hey, I think it's time you got cable. [Lucy removes the fuzziness to reveal three small Lucy heads covering her privates] Say, who are the new girls?
Lucy: You're out of special effect now.
[as soon as Lucy removes the heads, Toof appears in front of Lucy, hiding her privates and eats the camera]
Van Tastic: At this point, I'd like to have a nice intelligent chat with Toof. Instead, I managed to find this film that may answer a few of your questions. Roll'em! [turns on a projector]
Announcer: The Asson Oil Corporation presents... Asson Tomorrow! Oil! Nature's favorite lubricant. Black gold. Texas tea. The lifeblood of our world pumped strait from the heart of Mother Earth. Cars need it, birds play in it, Asson finds it. But oil can sometimes be a difficult mistress, and occasionally, accidents do happen. If only there was a way to clean up those annoying spills that was and affordable-- well, supportable! Good news: After over a weekend of research, Asson scientists have made a remarkable discovery. Let's take a look! [the film shows a microscopic view of oil] What you are seeing in oil at its molecular level. [a small cell with teeth appears] Watch now as we introduce a bio-genetic agent that has been specifically engineered to assimilate petroleum based substances. To use words that even you would understand, this little bugger actually eats oil. [the cell eats on oil and grows bigger] Our little friend seems to have quite an appetite. Hmm, he's gonna get a tummyache if he that up. [the cell grows eyes and arms until it grows into Toof] Stop. [chuckles] Now, I think he's gotta thing for... [Toof swims towards the camera] OH NO, STOP!! NOOOO!!!
[the film stops as Toof eats the projector]
Van Tastic: That should a good idea of what we're dealing with.
Van Tastic: Let's welcome Otto! [the chair carrying Otto runs up to the stage] Okay, settle down now. So, Otto, tell us about yourself.
[Otto blows a snot bubble; the chair smacks Otto to wake him up, encasing his head in the bubble]
Otto: That's one small step for man... One giant leap for mankind...
Van Tastic: Interesting.
[the chair smacks Otto again, popping the bubble]
Otto: Call the hospital... My contractions have started.
Van Tastic: Yeah...
[the chair hits Otto's face a few times]
Otto: Hey, man... I don't want a human driving a cab... [the chair flings Otto into the air and he lands back in it] Lassie, go tell Mom I'm stuck in the well...
Van Tastic: Hey, what do you say we put his hand in some warm water? [laughs] Sorry.
Van Tastic: Hello there, Eugene! Uh, mind if I call you Geno?
Eugene: Uh, um...
Van Tastic: Fantastic! So, four eyes, I couldn't help noticing the pathetically small size of your wings. Are you absolutely sure you're a bird?
Eugene: Well, actually, Van, my wings have the same number of bones in them as your average condor. [in his head] And if I were a condor, I'd dive-bomb your head so bad, you'd have to wash your hair with a laxative!
Van Tastic: Yes, but they can fly and you can't.
Eugene: Oh, yeah, well, that's only because I put on a little bit of weight over the holdiays. [in his head] And if I weight as much as that Lance guy, and crush that melon with teeth you keep yappin' me with!
Van Tastic: Speaking of food, why do you strap your lunch in your back like that?
Eugene: Oh, sorry to correct you, Van, but that's actually my parachute. [in his head] Yeah? And the pack for the flamethrower I'm gonna fry you with if you don't stop picking on me, you--!
Vantastic: That's odd. All I found in there was a juice box and a delicious sandwich that your mommy made. [the audience and other contestants laugh at Eugene] Oh, and by the way folks... [eats Eugene's sandwich] He still lives with her!
[this finally triggers Eugene to pull out his flamethrower and fry Van and the other contestants while laughing with rage... only to find that it's all in his head]
Eugene: [chuckles] That's a good one, Van. [in his head] Burn in hell!
Van Tastic: Well, Lance, it's nice to have someone in the show who's in such freakishly good shape.
Lance: Thanks man. A body like this doesn't happen overnight. It takes nine months in the womb! [laughs]
Van Tastic: Nice one. Great, now...
Lance: Get it? It's like I was born in the shape that I'm in now?
Van Tastic: Great. Hilarious. A knee-slapper! Now, Lance, describe, without another attempted humor, your typical day.
Lance: Well, I wake up, take a shower, watch the tape of my shower, add the highlights to my best of my shower's compilation, work on some new showering moves...
Van Tastic: I think we get the point. ...Not to mention a number of disturbing mental pictures.
Lance: I'd be happy to sign one.
Cameraman: Uh, we're rolling!
Van Tastic: Contestant Charity, come on down!
[Charity roams around the stage, collecting various things]
Charity: Ooh, mine! Mine! Oh, that's mine!
Van Tastic: [chuckles] She's something, eh, folks? Here she comes. Now, Charity, you seem to be very excited to be on the show. I betcha can't wait to get your clutching little mitts on that Prize, can ya?
Charity: Oh, I hope the Prize is a pony. I have lots of ponies. I have a brown pony, and a white pony, and a black pony, and a red pony...
Van Tastic: That's great. Your mommy and daddy must love you very much. Or feel very guilty about something.
Charity: Mommy buys me ponies, and Daddy buys me dollies. I have a dolly, and a tan dolly, and a pale dolly, tattooed dolly, and a skinny dolly, and a really really skinny dolly, and a dangerously skinny dolly...
Van Tastic: How about Klepto Dolly?
Charity: Uhh... I like ponies better. Oooh, are you a pony?
Van Tastic: No. [chuckles] I'm a game show host.
Charity: I think you're a pony!
Van Tastic: No, I'm definitely not a pony.
Charity: I want the funny lying pony! [climbs up on Van's head] Pony, pony mine!
Van Tastic: Isn't she cute, folks? Say, who wants to see how a stun gun works?
Van Tastic: Hey there, Lucky! [silence] It's great to have you on the show!
Lucky: Oh, just spit it out, you buck-toothed goon!
Van Tastic: What's it like being a rabbit with no feet?
Lucky See, I knew it. It's never "How was your Summer?" or "Can you read us some of your poems?" It's always "What's it like being a bunny with no feet?"
Van Tastic: Well, what is it like being a bunny with no feet?
Lucky: If you call me a bunny again, you'll be pickin' teeth outta yer stool. Ya get me, Zamboni chin?
Van Tastic: Hey, hey, hey! Lighten up, Mr. No-Toes.
Lucky: For your information, I have feet. AND THEY'RE RIGHT HERE!!! [picks up an icebox holding three of his feet]
Van Tastic: That reminds me, somebody order me some buffalo wings for after the show.
Lucky: [to the audience] Laugh it up now, ya slack-jawed nancies. But when I find my last foot, YOU'LL BE WHISTLIN' OUT A DIFFERENT HOLE!!!
Van Tastic: Ouch! I think that's the first I've ever been given the stump. [laughs]
[Otto is fast asleep; his chair tries to wake him up]
Otto: Whee... I love the waterslide...
[Lucy walks up to the chair]
Lucy: Hmm, I'd sure like to cuddle up with you.
Otto: Thank you, Doctor. [hands Lucy a cup of pudding] Here's the sample you asked for...
Lucy: Uh, thanks, lover. [pushes Otto to the other side of the chair and starts feeling its arm] What nice big arms you've got.
Otto: [pushes Lucy away] Get your own bumper car...
Lucy: I'll be back, big boy.
[Lance and Lucy just had sex]
Lucy: Your wig's falling off.
Lance: [fixes his wig] Oh, you mean my hair extension?
Lucy: Right.
Lance: So, was that the best or what?
Lucy: Yeah, that was terrific... Good thing it only lasted 30 seconds.
Lance: Hey, I aim to please.
Lucy: Then your aim is a little off. [picks up one of Lance's speedos] Children's department?
Lance: No, I make'em. You want a pair? [Lucy looks disgusted] So, you wanna do it again?
Lucy: [sighs] Right now, lover boy, your making the walking cheeseball (Toof) look good.
[while Lance is talking to Lucy, he constantly hits the propellor on Eugene's aviator goggles]
Lance: It's like my surfboard is an extension of me that doesn't get tiny when cold...
Eugene: Excuse me. [in his head] I'm gonna count to three, and then it's clobberin' time.
Lance: And when I'm out in that curl on the end of my board, hanging ten, it's just me against the wave.
Eugene: Uh, excuse me, could you please not... [in his head] Five, six... Okay, when I reach eight... I mean, ten!
Lance: Then it's out of my wetsuit, and back to my birthday suit.
[Lance's contant hitting makes Eugene's propellor turn, causing him to float of the ground, which leads to him be hit in the face and body]
Eugene: Ow, ow, ow! [in his head] OH, TWELVE!!!
Lance: The mirror used to fall on me when I was asleep, but then I found some better glue. [sees Eugene] Whoa! Hey, dude, you're flying!
Eugene: Oh, hey, you're right! I'm really fly--!
[suddenly, the propellor stops and Eugene falls head first on the floor]
Lance: That was awesome!
[Eugene tries to fly until Lucky trips him]
Lucky: Why don't ya watch where ya goin', ya stupid penguin?
Eugene: Oh, I'm terribly sorry. [in his head] Not as sorry as you'll be when...
Lucky: You saw me put my leg out and you tripped over it anyway. You're lookin' for trouble.
Eugene: But... [in his head] Shut up! Shut up!
Lucky: You sassin' back? You sassin' me back?!
Lance: He's majorly sassin' ya.
Lucky: Nobody sasses back to me, you stupid penguin!
Eugene: [in his head] SHUT UP! SHUT UP!
Lucky: ARE YA LISTENIN', PENGUIN?!
Lance: He ain't listenin.
Lucky: PENGUIN!!!!
Eugene: [finally snaps] OH, SHUT UP, YOU BUNNY!!!! [realizes what he just said as Lucky looks at him angrily]
Lance: Oh, are you in for it now.
[Lucky gets ready to punch Eugene, but Eugene ducks, making Lucky hit Lance; Lance accidentally kicks Eugene into the air, causing his propellor to get caught on a rope; Eugene swings back, knocking Lucky into the lights, electrocuting him]
Lance: Man, I kicked his butt!
Eugene: [lands on Lucky] Oh, no...
[Charity is going through her big collection of things]
Charity: And here's my cuddly little teddy bear, and my wax lips, and my signed Andy Warhol lithograph, and my cute little bunny foot.
Lucky: Did I hear you say you've got yourself a cute little... bunny foot?
Charity: Uh-huh. And I got some matches, and some Confederate money, and an ice pick, and a donkey.
Lucky: But getting back to that bunny foot, do you suppose I could have a look at it?
Charity: No... IT'S MINE!!! [smacks Lucky away] Mine, mine, mine!
Lucky: You're tougher than ya look.... BUT I'M SMARTER!!! [picks up a pinata and throws it into the air, which explodes and realeases candy]
Charity: MINE!!!!
[as Charity runs up to collect the candy, Lucky picks up Charity's bunny foot, but it turns out to be a chicken foot instead]
Lucky: Great...
[Van is playing with a rabbit's foot and gives the shush signal to the audience]

Cast

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