Dexter: After countless experiments,
no enhanced abilities,
no physical mutations,
no nothing!
It seems you shall never become
anything more than a mere monkey.
Monkey, this is agent honey q.
Help us.
Man: Yes, justice friends, I have total confidence
that victory shall be ours.
So, everyone take 5 minutes, powder,
and assemble at the quad jet in--huh?
Huh? What?
[Sirens]
Smash bad guys!
Huh?
Say, what's going on here?
Where are we?
Who dares kidnap the likes of we?
[Eek]
Silence, earthlings!
I, probodor, have brought you here
aboard the cosmic colosseum vessel, the shipodrome.
You are to be guests of my master, so bow--
bow down before your gracious host,
the spirit of competition, the embodiment of victory,
the eternal champion... Rasslor!
Welcome, heroes of earth.
You have been chosen to receive the most glorious of gifts:
The opportunity to face me, the great rasslor,
in a contest of strength and skill.
For eons, I have scoured the cosmos,
searching for the one adversary
who could provide me with suitable sport.
But lo, I have yet to find such a noble foe.
Each creature, each race more pitiful than the last,
so I spare them the disgrace of their weakness
by destroying their worlds.
And now my quest has brought me
to this timid little planet you call earth.
So, terrestrial heroes, can one of you quench my thirst
for the divine conflict, the supreme struggle,
or will your planet be doomed to the same fate
that has befallen so many?
What? What? What?
Fight me, or I destroy the earth!
Now...let the games begin!
That's what we're here to find out.
Live from the shipodrome, I'm Mike mann.
And I'm the fly guy, probodor.
Let's go to the action.
In the ring,
spawned from the very essence of the cosmos itself,
weighing in at 6,000 megastones,
my boy, the champ,
rasslor!
And in the opposite corner,
weighing in at 400 golden apples,
the viking god of rock, vol holen.
[Cheering]
Yo, villain man,
if 'Tis truly a thrashing you seek,
then thrash upon a riff of my mighty ax.
Rock on, ye of flaxen tresses.
Probodor: Mike, this kid needs to turn down that rock music,
get a haircut and a job
before he even thinks about getting in the ring
with the champ again.
1...2...3.
Mike: Next in the ring,
definitely a hometown favorite, major glory.
U.s.a.!
So, alien, you dare step foot on American soil without a green card?
Well, Iam mister.
Do you really think you can beat america?
The speed of america? The strength of america?
The constitution of america?
Well, here's my John hancock.
Major glory,
you speak boldly, and your breath is minty-fresh.
For this, I salute you.
Man: Enough of this, rasslor.
You must face I.
I am hunter.
I am me.
Sam...ur...ai!
I do not like your kick so high.
I do not like it, Sam...Ur...Ai.
Next!
What is this?
Crowd: Monkey! Monkey!
Mike: The crowd knows. Weighing in at 17 pounds,
the super-powered primate, monkey!
Away with this jest!
[Crowd booing]
Bring me a challenge! Bring me sport!
[Roar]
[Eek eek eek]
[Ooh ooh ooh]
This is ridiculous!
Is this the last opponent this puny planet can offer me?
Sorry, babe. He's popular with the kids.
Yay! Yay!
I will not soil my hands on so lowly a creature.
What?
Huh?
1...2...
Oh, no, little beast.
You shall not make a fool of me this day.
[Eeeek]
It seems you leave me no choice.
Probodor: The champ, applying a devastating submission hold.
Uhh.
Monkey...monkey...
Mike: Oh, but what's this?
Unbelievable! Monkey's pulling free.
It's a takedown, into a beautiful headlock!
You will learn your lesson, monkey,
once and for all!
Again and forever, I am the champion,
and so it falls upon me
to pass judgment on your contemptible world.
Mike: Wait a minute! I don't believe it!
Monkey refuses to stay down!
Yay! Yay! Yay!
Incredible.
I could crush your body, I could smash your bones,
but I could never break your spirit.
You are a marvel, little monkey.
Any world that could spawn one as noble as you
is truly blessed.
I spare your earth!
Yay! Yay! Yay!
[Ooh ooh ooh]
[Eek eek eek]
Oh, yeah!
[Parody of music from 2001: A space odyssey
Dexter: Dee Dee!
Get away from my planetarium.