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(Announcer over montage of a sunrise, flowers, a waterfall, a butterfly and a bear running)

Announcer (A):

Is your hair as dull and lifeless as your brain? Didn't work start at 9? Where's your shirt? Did you even remember to wear it? I know you. I used to be you. Until I discovered Chambraigne.

(Video of Al Roker moves across screen)

Al Roker (AR):

Shampoo for your hair, and your brain!

A:

That's right, Al. And here's how it works.

(Animation of shampoo coating stomach)

A:

Other shampoos just work on your hair. But Chambraigne travels down each follicle and bores into your skull, depositing magical knowledge crystals.

TV's Al Roker (TAR):

("Heavy User"): Lather your way to a new intelligence.

(Chambraigne logo over video of man in toga putting on crown of leaves)

A:

With Chambraigne. The shampoo of kings. (Faster) Made by Carl and Sons. Continued use may result in limb Loss.

(Camera pulls back to reveal image on old-fashioned TV Screen)

Space Ghost (SG):

Finally, a product for me! I believe every word that man just said, because it's exactly what I wanted to hear.

(Time lapse - Space Ghost has lather on his hood and is surrounded by boxes of Chambraigne)

SG:

Ha ha ha ha! I'm already smart enough to know this is working!

(Dramatic music, shot of small, glowing planet topped with a healthy head of hair, cut to ext. of Carl & Sons )

Voice (V):

This is a proud day for Carl and Sons, son. (two brains hover in shadow)

Large brain (LB):

(Carl) We've sold enough Chambraigne to purchase this...television.

(Opening titles play on TV screen)

Small brain (SB):

(Son) (incoherent squeaking)

Carl (C):

Yes, son. Fetch daddy's hard plastic eyes so he can see the TV.

(Son runs off screen, crashing noises are heard)

C:

On the dresser! You are an imbecile!

(Space Ghost invisos onto set)

SG:

Greetings! I'm Number One! And I got this way because I use Chambraigne! But what's "Chambraigne," Space Ghost? Well, let me tell you what Chambraigne is. Chambraigne is an "intelli-hancer." (trumpet)

Zorak (Z):

Man, you've been brainwashed!

SG:

You're right it's a brain-wash! And it's good for your hair, too!

Moltar (M):

Bob's here. (clears throat)

SG:

Is this product for everyone, Space Ghost? (Laughs.) No, no, no. This product is not for everyone. Only for those who buy, and choose to use, the product.

M:

Bob's here.

Z:

You know what I've always wanted to do? (Pause.) Have a Nerf war in a huge mansion!

M:

Bob's here!

SG:

Oh, really? (pause). Chambraigne? I'll catch you on the flipside. (trumpet)

(Zorak plays dramatic music on keyboard as Space Ghost invisos to desk)

Bob Costas (BC):

Greetings, Space Ghost.

SG:

Bob, for legal reasons beyond our control, and to honor the queen, identify yourself...to me...the king.

BC:

Bob Costas, NBC Sports. Hello, universe.

SG:

Now, when you say "Bob Costas," what do you mean by that?

BC:

You know, it's...it's uh...(laughing) something I haven't given much thought to, actually.

SG:

Well, I have. (pause) It's your name, Bob.

BC:

Ye...Yeah.

SG:

(thinking to himself) This shampoo is awesome!

Z:

Hey! Bob! Look at me!

BC:

Yeah?

Z:

I'm burning a hole in your head with my Mind.

(Bob Costas looking confused)

SG:

Ha ha! What a sticky wicket! Zorak's mind is obviously too small. He has no hair. He can't make use of Chambraigne. It's like the domino theory of stupidity. Isn't that obvious to Everyone?

(Space Ghost's right arm falls off)

SG:

Oh dear.

Z:

Hey, Bob! This Pete Rose thing. How does that guy not wind up in the Hall?

BC:

It's a travesty.

SG:

(Re-attaching arm) Okay. All right.

Z:

Yeah, I mean 4,256 hits. Nobody's touchin' that record.

BC:

Well, my favorite athlete as a kid growing up was Mickey Mantle. I grew up...

SG:

Bob...

BC:

...in New York and the Yankees were the dominant...

SG:

Bob! Bob!

BC:

Well, you...you...

SG:

Bob, that thing over there is a villain. He knows nothing. He's obviously trying to lure you into some sort of a sports death trap! So now, Bob, listen to my important question.

BC:

Okay.

SG:

What's the difference between a "boont" and a "poont"?

BC:

A "bunt," first of all, would happen in baseball...

SG:

Bob, hold on. We all know what a "bunt" is. We're talking about the "boont." The French "boont." Or English. Whatever.

BC:

You know, I...

SG:

You clearly have no idea what you're talking about you handsome, sophisticated, hyper-intelligent, svelte, well-read, sparkling, salty, olive-complected, full-head-of-haired Man!

(Pause)

BC:

Well, you know you have to...

SG:

I AM THE KING!

(Pause)

BC:

Don't you feel special about that?

SG:

(thinking to himself) Bob smells like a chili dog. And his hair is huge. Could he be using Chambraigne?

(Carl and Son watching Space Ghost on TV screen)

SG:

(thinking to himself) Now with weiner scent?

C:

There is no weiner scent, you hooded buffoon!

Son (S):

(squeaking) Awww....

C:

He's making a mockery of the product. You're making a mockery of the product!

BC:

How mu...how much hair do you have, Space Ghost?

SG:

(with lather on hood) Oh, I don't know. Nine. Nine fat stalks.

BC:

Well, why if...if, Space Ghost, if you weren't concerned about your own dome, why would you be so concerned and perhaps envious of those who have a full head of hair?

SG:

Right.

BC:

Right.

SG:

Wanna see my brain?

BC:

What's that?

SG:

Moltar! Get out here and heat up my skull! Now this is something, Bob, you don't ever wanna do.

(Moltar blows lather off Space Ghost's hood)

M:

All right. This is gonna hurt. Bad.

SG:

Right now Moltar is heating my skull up to a scorching 450 degrees. (Space Ghost's hood glows red) It's like getting a scalp massage...from Lucifer.

BC:

It sounds dangerous. It sounds downright frightening.

SG:

It is. You see, my brain's sending a message to my arms right now to put my head out. But I'm choosing to ignore that.

BC:

Uh-huh. Hello, Moltar.

M:

Hi, Bob.

SG:

Moltar, don't talk to the guests. Things get easier as your brain dies, Bob.

BC:

I know.

SG:

There she is, Bob. (trumpet swell, Space Ghost's brain shows through his hood all the way down to his neck) Brains!

BC:

I'm impressed. I'm very impressed, Space Ghost. But then, I was impressed to begin with.

SG:

You, uh, wanna know why I did this, Bob?

BC:

Please.

SG:

To prove a point. A point, Bob, which escapes me right now. I have to go stick my head in the lake.

(Cut to show on Carl and Son's TV. On screen, we see Space Ghost fly off set, then Bob Costas in Moltar's monitor)

BC:

How sad was that?

(Cut to Carl and Son)

C:

Sales will plummet! All because of this beef-witted Klingon!

S:

(squeaking) Oh, Daddy!

C:

Fetch daddy's blue fright wig! I must be handsome when I unleash my rage.

(Son flies off screen, crashing sounds)

C:

It's on the dresser, next to the keys! I've told you a million times!

(Cut back to Space Ghost set)

Z:

Then, you know, it's been pretty much oozin' ever since. What do you think of that?

BC:

It disgusts me.

Z:

Me too. And I gotta live with it.

BC:

Hmmm.

(Space Ghost flies back to desk)

SG:

Moltar, flush the lake.

M:

We don't have a lake.

SG:

Good work. Bob?

BC:

Yes, Space Ghost?

SG:

Bob...

BC:

Space Ghost?

SG:

Hello.

BC:

Hello, Space Ghost.

(Pause)

SG:

I have one final question for you. As a carbon-based sex machine...

Z:

Smooth-chested, no doubt.

SG:

I was just gonna say that! It's amazing. We've been working together so long...

Z:

We finish each other's sentences.

SG:

Well, you know, it's like I always say...when I'm in the shower... (looks at Zorak, then sings) Shower time!! That's what I always say, Bob. When I'm showering.

(A blue-fright-wigged Carl and a baseball-cap-wearing Son start making their way to Ghost Planet)

SG:

Now, Bob, I have one more final question for you. Do you have the freedom to wear comfortable, open-toed shoes?

BC:

I could, yes.

SG:

Okay.

BC:

Yeah, I'd...actually, though, it's not advisable when doing a football game in Green Bay in December to wear sandals.

SG:

Bob, everyone knows Green Bay is not in December. You obviously don't shampoo. Here's my final question, Bob.

BC:

Oh yeah? I thought that was the last question.

SG:

Who told ya that?

BC:

All right, what is it?

SG:

That was it.

(Bob Costas nods in frustration as Space Ghost's mouth grows to twice its size)

SG:

Did you just call me a monkey? Huh?!

BC:

I, Space Ghost, I didn't...

SG:

Come on, big man. Come on!

BC:

I, I'm not a man who believes...

SG:

Come on, let's go!

BC:

...in violence, Space Ghost.

SG:

Come on, Costas! Start somethin'!

BC:

Nah.

SG:

Yeah!

BC:

Nah.

SG:

You want a piece of me?

BC:

Nah.

(Space Ghost sighs, then turns to Zorak)

BC:

(announcing) Space Ghost, eyeing Zorak.

Z:

What?

BC:

Ready to deliver the knock-out blow.

SG:

Come on, Zorak, start somethin'. Come on, you want a piece of the king?!

BC:

One of his Archenemies.

(Talking over each other)

SG:

The monkey king?!

Z:

No.

BC:

In his sights.

Z:

No. Not really.

SG:

What? Say that to my face.

Z:

I didn't say anything!

(Space Ghost blasts Zorak)

BC:

And he zaps him, zaps him but good.

Z:

(flies down hallway)

BC:

He's gone yard on Zorak. He's taken him deep. He's taken him over the boards.

SG:

Put that in your pipe and smoke it! With your burned lips!

BC:

It's a tape-measure blast of Zorak that ought to eliminate the little creep for the foreseeable future.

Z:

(from hallway) I didn't do anything!

SG:

You were driving away the fans.

BC:

He was. He was asking for it. And all superheroes, all men of honor and virtue, only resort to violence...

SG:

I didn't ask you, Bob.

BC:

Sorry.

SG:

"Sorry" is a word that knows no boundaries. Now kiss my ring.

C:

SILENCE!!

S:

(incoherent squeaking)

C:

(to SON:) Shut! Shut! If you had a neck and I had hands, I would squeeze your brain, which is your body, right out the top of your head, which does not exist!

S:

(remorseful squeaking)

Z:

That's some great hair.

C:

Thanks. It's not real.

SG:

Welcome, fans.

C:

We are far from fans. I am Carl. This is my son, Little Carl.

Little Carl (LC):

(incoherent squeaking)

C:

We're from Carl and Son's. We are both Carls.

LC:

(incoherent squeaking)

C:

(to Little Carl) Shut up! Shut up!

SG:

Carl & Son's? What a coincidence! I buy my Chambraigne from them! It's shampoo for your brain.

C:

Fool! We know what it is! We make it!

LC:

(incoherent squeaking)

SG:

You're the inventors of the specially-patented formula for intelligence?

C:

It's only dishwasher liquid, you over-inflated gasbag!

LC:

(incoherent squeaking)

SG:

Uh-huh. And the knowledge crystals?

C:

(Mimicking) "Uh-huh and the knowledge cryst--"? Aquarium gravel.

LC:

(incoherent squeaking)

C:

(to Little Carl) SHUT!

SG:

I, I don't care how you do it. I just know it's working for me!

C:

It doesn't work! It's psychosomatic! It's a placebo!

LC:

(incoherent squeaking)

SG:

Huh, those are big words. Maybe I should wash my hair again.

C:

Noooo!! Can you not comprehend that your ignorance will cause me to explode now? Arrgghhh!!!

(Carl explodes)

(Space Ghost's right arm falls off as show pauses. Camera pans back to show Space Ghost teaching live-action class)

SG:

Let's stop right there. If someone approached you about washing your hair, (Space Ghost's left arm falls off) what would you say to them? I'll tell you what you should say. You'd say, "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't need large brains to have a good time."

(Space Ghost continues over credits)

SG:

You wanna be groovy, huh? You wanna fit in? Wanna go to the big dance? Wanna be the king? You'll be the fool! Shampoo will play you for the fool!

Female Voice (FV):

Okay, well, thank you for coming.

SG:

Oh, I'm not done. I'm serious. These brains, they're out there. They're shining. With eyes of hard plastic. And blue hair. Blue as the night!

© 1999 Cartoon Network, Inc. All rights reserved.
Animated Characters TM & © 1966 Hanna Barbera Productions, Inc.
All Rights reserved.

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