(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
♪ Going down the rabbit hole
♪ Where we're going no one knows
♪ Obstacles 'round every bend
♪ Let's see where the tunnel ends ♪
What a lovely day to gather my winter harvest of carrots.
Don't you think, Squeaks? (GASPS)
My winter harvest.
Those are mine!
Wait, come back!
(PANTING)
(EXHALES SHARPLY) Thanks for the help.
Gross, ew, disgusting, no.
Puddin, you are so pony perfection.
You can't eat these filthy things.
Only the choicest 1%.
You know, I love my little sweetie-peetie.
-How's it going? -Fine, thanks.
Stop stealing my carrots!
(GRUNTS) Ow, your carrots?
Listen up, shorty spice, you took my carrots.
-(GRUNTS) -Hey, enough with the clubbing!
They're mine.
Since when do you and CeeLo, need all the carrots?
Puddin is going to be an upper-class show pony.
And for the upper class, only the best.
Ah, the 1%.
Only the choicest cut for my Puddin.
And what happens to the rest?
The remaing 99%?
My carrots! (GROWLS)
And it's obvious that you two are part of the 99%.
(BOTH GASP)
Of course, you realize, this means class war.
Okay, Puddin, it's time for your riding lesson.
BUGS: Did someone say "riding lessons"?
Who are you?
I am a riding instructor.
Where's your horse?
Uh...
Good question, uh...
I'll be right back.
(WHINNYING)
Our first lesson today is trolling.
-Trolling? -The one where you hop around.
-Trotting? -Yeah, yeah, trotting.
Here we go. (EXCLAIMING)
That's trotting?
Now, it's your turn.
-You heard him, trot. -(PANTING)
(GRUNTS) Get off of me!
Now, let's get these carrots.
But, riding instructor, my horse isn't working.
Fix him!
Uh...
Oh, yeah, he's cramping.
You just need to massage it out here.
And let's gently stretch it out, now you hold this.
I'll walk this way toward you.
Now, you go underneath and I'll go this way.
Then you go around there and back to me.
-(STRAING) -Now, grab that leg.
-Like this? -BUGS: There you go, just like that.
Now twist around here and twice around.
Now, loop through and one more like so.
PAMPREEN: Hey, I got it.
And that's what I call a Thai massage.
-But I can't move. -Now's our chance.
(GRUNTING) Hey!
(SIGHS) Yes, my dear.
Something tells me you're not a riding instructor.
(NEIGHING)
Ah, well, truth be told.
I am a photographer.
A photographer?
I'm from Fancy Horse Digest,
a magazine about fancy horses and what they digest.
And I want you two for the cover.
(BOTH GASP)
I took one look and I knew.
Those dark, brooding eyes,
those chiseled cheekbones,
I must shoot you.
Yes, that's it.
-More of that. Beautiful, yes! -(SHUTTER CLICKS)
You need something else.
Little girl, move to the left.
Hold this garden gnome. Now, put on this hat.
Grab those carrots, put them in that box.
That's it, beautiful.
Yes, more in the box.
That's the cover!
But, Puddin wasn't even in that shot.
Don't worry about it, princess.
I think I got what I need.
-Ciao. -Ciao.
Ciao.
Puddin, that rabbit is stealing our carrots.
After him.
Way to go, Squeaks.
Why you always gotta be so polite?
(SQUEAKING)
I will take it up with your mother.
(NEIGHING)
Giddy up, Puddin, giddy...
Go, Puddin, let's go.
(STRAINING) Come on, Puddin, giddy up.
(PANTING)
Puddin, jump.
Jump, jump.
-Puddin! -(SQUEALING)
(NEIGHING)
Puddin, they ruined you.
You're so ugly and hideous,
and you'll never be a show pony!
And I hate you, and you're nothing but...
(SCREAMING)
Squeaks, would you like to do the honors?
(GRUNTING)
Hi-ho, Squeaker. Away!
(NEIGHING)
No time for good-bye, Squeaks.
-I'm already late for my plane. -(SQUEAKING)
Yes, I printed my boarding pass. It's in my bag.
(SQUEAKING)
No, you can't come with me, Squeaks.
I'll only be gone for a week.
Just grab my mail and water the carrots. Okay, Squeaks?
-(GASPING) -Bye.
(SQUEAKING)
(ROARING)
Squeaks, I gotta go.
(SQUEALING)
(GRUNTS)
-Well, get a load of this. -(SQUEAKING)
(SQUEAKING)
This is a toll tree?
What kind of a nut would collect tolls in a forest?
(ROARING)
Oh, hello.
I wasn't talking about little old you.
Hey, hmm...
Oh...
Uh, here you go.
There's still some good bites in there.
Hmm...
-Got a buck, Squeaks? -(SQUEAKING)
Well, I've never met a toll tree before
mainly because, they don't exist.
I would like to see some credentials.
(GASPING AND GRUNTING)
Look, I ain't paying your toll,
and no tree is making me late for my flight.
(GRUNTING)
(CHUCKLES)
What, now, you let me pass?
Uh-huh.
I can't go to the airport without my bag.
My tickets are in there.
Oh, well.
Why, you big bag of splinters.
(SCREAMS)
(GROANS)
(BUGS WHISTLING)
(GRUNTING)
(STRAINING)
I can't reach.
(SQUEAKING)
(GRUNTING)
(GASPS)
(GROWLING)
(SCREAMING)
-(CHUCKLES) -(SCREAMING)
(SQUEAKING)
Apologize, for what?
This is not a licensed official.
There's no such thing as a toll tree.
Why should I apologize?
(SQUEAKING)
Okay, I'll try.
Listen, Woodrow, I'm sorry I ruffled your underbrush.
I said sorry.
(TICKING)
Okay, toothpick, you take me to my bag now.
Whoa!
(YELPING)
My bag, my bag.
(GASPS)
(SCREAMS)
(GROANING)
(GRUNTING)
-(GRUNTS) -(RUMBLING)
Come to pa.
Why, you...
(SCREAMS)
(GROANING)
Hey, this ain't a fair fight.
It's tree against one.
(SHRIEKING)
How's come you know so much about this tree?
(SQUEAKING)
Of course, you do. You're a squirrel.
(SQUEAKING)
I mean, you could get to the top of that tree in seconds.
-(SQUEAKING) -So why don't you help me?
-(SQUEAKING) -Oh...
Please?
Hey, doc, I know why you're such a grump.
What you need is a lady friend.
Look, I logged you in to Fernster,
the social media site for trees.
-(GRUNTING) -Oh, come on.
Check out this redwood.
Tall, well built, a little old but not bad.
-You ought to friend her. -Ha!
(GRUNTING)
Huh?
-Hey, here's a cute sycamore. -(GRUNTING)
Wouldn't you like to germinate with her?
Hey, Squeaks, the jig is up.
-(GRUNTING) -You can do it, Squeaks.
(BLOWS RASPBERRIES)
Don't forget my bag.
(SQUEAKING)
(GRUNTING)
(SCREAMING)
Well done, Squeaks. Now let's finish the job.
Knock on wood this works.
(WHIRRING)
(SQUEAKING)
(TRILLS)
(SQUEAKING)
(WHIRRING)
-(SQUEAKING) -(BLOWER STOPS)
You got the wrong bag.
(SQUEAKING)
Just kidding.
(GIGGLING)
(SIGHS) I can't believe I actually caught my flight.
PILOT: (OVER PA)Ladies and gentlemen, our takeoff's been delayed
due to, uh...
Well, you wouldn't believe me if I told you.
(GRUNTING)