[ As the sketch opens, Scred is massaging King Ploobis' back. ] 

Ploobis

Oh, yeah, yeah. A little to the left there, Scred. Oh, yeah! Yeah!

[ The moment is broken by an explosive entrance from Queen Peuta. ]

Peuta

Ploobis! Ploobis! Do you know what your son Wisss is doing?

Ploobis

What, has he locked himself in the bathroom with a magazine again?

Peuta

No! Your son Wisss is smoking... craters!

Ploobis

NO!

Peuta

Yes!

Ploobis

Not my son. Why, my son is a... he's a...

Scred

A crater head!

Ploobis

A crater head! No, he is not! [ POW! Ploobis smacks Scred. ]

Scred

Oh, thank you.

Ploobis

My son is not a crater head.

Peuta

Yes, he is! Go look for yourself.

Ploobis

All right, I will!

[ Ploobis exits. Scred takes the opportunity to fondle Peuta's moogies. ]

Scred

Cootchie cootchie coo!

Peuta

Ooh! Ha ha. Not now, sugar claws...

[ Cut to a plain of smoking craters. Wisss, Ploobis' long-haired hippie son, is sniffing the smoke and blowing it out again through his long furry snout. ]

Wisss

On top of Old Smokey... [ blows out ] Aaaaaahhh!

[ Ploobis enters. ]

Ploobis

Hey, didn't I ever tell you not to smoke that stuff?

Wisss

Hey, man... wow! Your aura's really red!

Ploobis

Oooooh. Your aura's gonna be black and blue in a minute, fella.

Wisss

Hey, lighten, up, Jack, lighten up.

Ploobis

Listen... all the evidence is not in, buster. That stuff there rots your brain.

Wisss

Oh, yeah?

Ploobis

Yeah!

Wisss

Oh, YEAH?

Ploobis

YEAH!

Wisss

... Yeah, what? [ Wisss scratches his head. ]

Ploobis

See that? It rots your brain! Now, what do you need that stuff for? Look at ME! I'm high on life!

Wisss

Yeah. [ He turns contemptuously and sniffs at the crater. ]

[ Scred enters. ]

Scred

Sire?

Ploobis

What.

Scred

Perhaps it would help if you spoke to your son in his own language. 

Ploobis

Grrruhh. Good thinking, Scred. [ He approaches Wisss. ] Um... hey, listen, uh, uh -- dude -- uh... Big Daddy-o here wants you to ixnay with the crater smoke. Ya dig? Huh?

Wisss

Hey, man... don't down me with those bad vibes, dad.

Ploobis

Grruh. C'mere, Scred. Listen. I can no longer talk to the lad. I want you to tell him that if he doesn't stop smoking that stuff...

Scred

Mm hmm?

[ Ploobis grabs Scred's nose. ]

Scred

OW!

Ploobis

I'm gonna do THIS to him.

[ Ploobis twists Scred's head sideways, snapping some bones with a loud crunch. ]

Scred

Oh! Ow! I'm sure he'd hate that.

Ploobis

Yeah.

[ Scred tries to reposition his head as he approaches Wisss. ]

Scred

Uh... the boss says that if --

Wisss

Yeah? Well, you tell him that if he doesn't split, I am gonna do this to him. Wisssssss.... [ He blows smoke from his nose into Scred's face. ]

Scred

Oh! Oh! Oh, wooowwww... the colors!

Ploobis

Scred?

Scred

Hmm?

[ POW! ]

Scred

Oh, and the stars!

Ploobis

Grrruhhh. Maybe the Mighty Favog has got some good advice for me.

Wisss

Oh, never, man. Favog's a cosmic turkey.

[ GONNNG! The Mighty Favog is revealed. ]

Favog

THIS IS THE MIGHTY FAVOG. TALK TA ME.

Scred

Yeah, ya got any munchies? Hee hee!

Ploobis

Will you shut up, Scred. Oh, omni-impotent one, I gotta problem.

Favog

AWRIGHT. IT'S GONNA COST YA.

Ploobis

Scred, put in the chickens there.

Scred

Hanh?

Ploobis

Put in the chickens!

Scred

Oh, yeah -- hee hee hee! Chickens! Little birdy wirdies. Here ya go.

Favog

YEAH... [ There's a splash, and a flushing sound as Favog smacks his lips and burps. ] AWRIGHT. WHAT'S YER PROBLEM?

Ploobis

My son Wisss... is a crater head.

Favog

MMMM. WELL, THE ANSWER, MY FRIEND --

Ploobis

Yeah?

Favog

IS BLOWIN' IN THE WIND. [ Favog sniffs the air. ]

Ploobis

Huh? [ Ploobis sniffs the air. ]

Scred

I could kill for some chocolate chip cookies!

[ Scred dances out as Ploobis and Favog sniff. ]