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Ready, Gnasher? Let's go!
# Playing by the rules
# Is highly overrated
# Unstoppable, unstoppable, yeah!
# They can't hold us back
# We'll make the most of every second
# Unstoppable, unstoppable, yeah!
# After all is said and done
# Shout, one for all and all for fun!
# Nothing's gonna bring us down today
# Open up your eyes The world outside is waiting. #
I mean, really. What sort of a mongrel are you anyway? Tripe hound?
That's not even a real breed. Nobody knows what tripe is any more.
A freak, that's what you are.
And furthermore, what kind of a dog shaves his legs?
-Erm, you don't, do you?
-And that smell!
I'd offer my trademark derisory snort
-if I didn't think the intake of air might render me comatose.
Lost me at derisory.
And as for those supposedly,
world-class gnashing abilities of yours, know what I say?
-Walter, what are you doing?
Gotcha! Military grade, gnash-proof, titanium boxer shorts.
Freshly delivered from world-of-underpants.com.
I may just have to risk a derisory snort here.
Henceforth, I shall walk the streets of Beanotown unafraid -
confident that my nether regions are safe at last from the...
Some people never learn.
"And due to the lamentably,
"sub-standard nature of this product I will now not be recommending
"and intend to look elsewhere for a more
"reliable supplier of armoured underwear.
"I expect a full and immediate refund." And send.
Hello, Walter. We got your e-mail.
There, that's where it happened.
-And you say a dog did this?
-Yes, a dog.
Look, whatever I said about
I really am most impressed with your complaints procedure but...
You're not from world-of-underpants.com, are you?
Son, we're going to need your help.
Is this some kind of "life is pain" emo thing?
Cos other types of music are available, you know.
What? What just happened?!
-Walter, who was in that van?
I'll tell you who.
MI 13, the top secret government spy organisation.
But what would they want with Gnasher?
Apparently, that ghastly mutt of yours has been deemed a threat
to national security and you are never going to see him again.
Can one look triumphant dressed as a sausage?
I think one can.
Curly, please. There's got to be some way to find out where it is.
Says here the address of MI 13's Beanotown branch is known only
to local military personnel.
Well, that's no good. We don't know any...
Ey? Hmm. Sorry, chaps. Ear wax.
The silent enemy.
Where did you say you were from again?
MI 13, Beanotown branch.
We just popped out to the shops for some biscuits.
Erm, yeah. And the place is so secret, we forgot how to get back.
-You couldn't give us directions?
-Of course, it's...
-Hang on. How do I know you're who you say you are?
-Because of all the cool spy stuff we have.
Erm... Walkie-talkie trainers.
Agent D to Agent C, come in, please.
Do you read me? Over.
Reading you loud and clear, Agent D. Over.
Wow, that's amazing.
Then there's these. Black ops cola cubes.
-One suck and the enemy's out for the count.
My word! Impressive. Sorry I doubted you.
All right, listen carefully...
This'll be the place then.
Weird how we've never noticed it before.
-Can I have my dog back, please?
OK. They had their chance.
One sausage ought to do it. Curly...
Now all we have to do is wait.
BANGING AND CLATTERING
Ahh, works every time.
OK, that was unexpected.
We call it, the Gnashernator.
-It's a prototype super-weapon made from cloned Gnasher teeth.
He's being debriefed at our other, even more secret base.
But now, thanks to you, there's an out of control
Gnashernator on the loose.
So, go get it back.
Erm... We can't. We're stuck.
-In gnashing its way out, it crippled security and jammed the exits.
Well, I hope it ate your spy socks and wee'd on your spy carpet too.
Actually it did. So, here's the deal, kid.
You will get Gnasher back on one condition -
that you keep the Gnashernator out of trouble until back up arrives.
Hang on, is this like a mission?
-Cos seriously, if you do have black ops cola cubes they would be...
The Gnashernator was created for one purpose and one purpose alone -
to seek out and gnash the enemy
and unfortunately it seems to have developed certain natural dislikes.
What do you mean?
-And I now declare
the Beanotown Annual Postman's Convention open.
OK, people, listen up.
We're working for MI 13 and we need you to evacuate the building
right away because there's
an unstoppable set of robot teeth coming to gnash you.
Good one, Dennis!
Quick! This way!
So, not the exit then?
-No. Broom cupboard.
OK. Well, we just wait till back up arrives, right?
Mind the elbow.
-Pie-Face, not helping.
OK, folks, we're down to our last sausage.
We're going to have to make a run for it. After three.
Gnasher! Yes! Go get him, boy!
Grrr, gnash! Gnash. Gnash-gnash.
Back off, robo-chops. Final warning. I've got butternut squash here.
Curly, the aubergines.
Quick, we need a diversion, we...
The sausage, there's still one sausage left!
Disturbing the peace, destruction of property,
possession of a dangerous weapon.
Dennis, do you never learn?
Grrrr, gnash, gnash!
Hey, robo-chops! Look who's here.
Yes! Wow, Walter. You're a hero!
And, Gnasher, you were brilliant.
-You saved all those posties.
Well, temporarily saved them anyway.
So, yes. You may rest assured that Project Gnashernator has now been
officially moth-balled. And the Gnashernator itself, disposed of.
You haven't just stuck it in a giant warehouse full of wooden boxes then?
Still, there has been one good thing come out of this.
Yeah, what's that?
Our detailed studies of Gnasher's teeth have helped us develop these.
MI 13's new armoured field trousers.
Now scientifically proven to be completely, 100% gnash-proof.
Aghhh! Aghhh! OK!
They said gnash-proof, aghhh!
Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd