Narrator: The Doug Anthony All Stars are stranded aboard the gigantic submarine Titanic 2, Shitsu Tonka's museum of history. The All Stars are condemned to catalogue the world's greatest treasures. They are hopelessly lost in the vast wasteland of space, but all this is irrelevant…

[The main room aboard the Titanic 2. Richard and Tim are cataloging items]
Richard: One Picasso oil painting.
Tim: Yep.

[Paul's room. He's cataloging records]
Paul: One Miles Davis. [Crash! Paul smashes the record]

[Main room]
Richard: One antique telephone.
Tim: Yep.

[Paul's room]
Paul: One Winton Masalas. [Crash!]

[Main room]
Richard: One toothpick. [Holds up a large phallic object that is clearly not a toothpick]
Tim: A what?
Richard: it's a toothpick.
Tim: Nah get out of it that's not made for picking teeth.
Richard: What else could you do with it?
Tim: One toothpick.

[Paul's room] Paul: One Swingin' Safari. I love this record. [Crash!] Ahhhhh!

All: Just another day at the office.

[News Break]
Newsreader: Endangered species of the world. Scientists have discovered that since the hunting season was opened on Jazz musicians, all of them have been wiped out. All except one; the most esoteric yet ambiguous modern jazz muso on earth. We cross to the Shitsu Tonka spaceport where the Marquee de Sade is preparing to leave the planet for good. We now cross live to the Marquee de Sade.
Flacco: Is this thing on? Hello, hello? Oh Jana, yes Jana, that's right Jana I must leave immediately for I fear I am in grave danger here. Why I myself was attacked just the other day by a country and western group who lured me into their club, belted me with baseball bats, skinned me and sawed off my tusks. But believe me Jana the wholesale slaughter of jazz on this planet will not go unavenged. For I intend to create a brave new jazz colony on an idiotic scale never before heard, and bring this awesome combo back to earth to thwart the Acton latitude of your entire race leaving you nothing but an aximoletonal tone of your former jazzless selves. Yes jazz is not dead, just a little bloated lately. A touch of gastric reflux I think. [Fart noise]. Oooh G sharp minor. Sorry Jana.

[Back aboard the Titanic 2, main room]
Tim: How exciting. Just think Rich, the Marquee de Sade is going to be here in less than a week. And if we show him our collection of jazz records and if we play some jazz for him and he likes us, he might give us a job and take us away from all this cataloging on the Titanic. Ah, fame, lights, stardom, anorexia nervosa, leotards. Hey Paul, Paul, have you finished cataloging those records for the Marquee?

[Paul's room]
Paul: Acker Bilk. [Crash!] Shoo be do be doo.

[Main room]
Richard: One 1945 news clipping, B29 bomber disappears over Bermuda triangle.
Tim: Yep.

[Paul's room]
Paul: Guantanamera. [Crash!]

[Inside a B-29 bomber flying somewhere in space]
Bob: Damn! Knew we shouldn't have turned left at Bermuda. I guess we missed our primary target spot. This sure as hell don't look like Japan. Where the hell are we?

[Back on the Titanic 2, main room]
Richard: One Smith and Wesson pistol with laser sighting [Bang] loaded.
Tim: Yep.
Richard: One bust…
Tim: Hey don't touch that Richard get your hands off, don't you know what this is?
Richard: It's a bust of famous British author Evelyn Waugh.
Tim: Yeah it also happens to be the last remaining nuclear bomb in existence.
Richard: Ahh.
Tim: It's disguised as the head of Evelyn Waugh.
Richard: Wh-why?
Tim: Because it is a Waugh-head Rich.
Richard: Golly.
Tim: Now just don't touch it we have to be very careful, in the wrong hands it could be dangerous.
Richard: Oh let's get rid of it, let's throw it out the hatch or something. [Richard goes to pick up the bust]
Tim: Put that nuclear weapon down you'll take someone's eye out! And open that hatch and we'll all be sucked out into space. Just keep your dirty, filthy, grubby hands to yourself.
Richard: Sorry.

[Paul's room]
Paul: Charlie Parker! [Crash!] Well the last one, 'whoops there goes another rubber tree plant.'

[Main room]
Richard: One rubber dingy [holds up inflatable doll].
Tim:Yep.
[ring ring]
Richard: That'll be the phone.
Tim: Phone's never rung before.
[ring ring]
Tim: Hello? Oh yes sir, yes [baboon noises]
[Paul enters]
Paul: What's he doin' talking to an orangutan?
Tim: mmmmmmm yeah mmmmmmm yep, thanks very much. Boys, that was the Marquee de Sade, he's coming here. Tonight!
Richard: Tonight?!
Tim: Yeah oh my God he's gonna be here in less than an hour. The place is a mess, we've got nothing ready, there's no atmosphere! Uuuuuuuh! [hyperventilating]
Richard: Paul, Paul did you take care of all the jazz records like we said?
Paul: Yeah Rich as a matter of fact this is the last jazz record in existence!
Richard: Uuuuh [hyperventilating]
Tim: What, what, what? [Goes to Paul's room and sees all the broken records] Oh God what have you done?!
Richard: Paul when we said take care of all the jazz records we didn't mean take care of all the jazz records, we meant take care of all the jazz records!
Paul: Once I smash this Rich there'll be no more jazz in the universe!
Tim: You, you, you, you impotent rapscallion!
Paul: Ooh I'm so scared. Come on try and get it, try and get it!
Tim: Give it to me, give it to me. Listen Paul the Marquee de Sade is coming here to listen to all our records and we've got nothing to show him.
Richard: Well at least we've got this, the last recording of 'whoops there goes another rubber tree plant.'
Paul: Not for long, come on let me smash it. You know jazz music is the root of all evil.
Tim: That's rubbish Paul, jazz music mellows you out.
Paul: No it doesn't Ferguson, it makes you violent. Listen; do be do be do be do bah [Paul punches Tim]
Tim: You know Paul I wish you were Nelson Mandella.
Paul: Why? So I'd be a softhearted campaigner for human rights?
Tim: No so you'd piss off for thirty years.
Paul: I wish! [Richard hits them both over the head with the record]
Richard: There's only one way to resolve this, we're going to have a debate tonight.
Tim & Paul: You're on! Grrr.

[Inside his airplane, somewhere in space Bob is trying to fix the T.V.]
Bob: Come on you son of a bitch work, come on 'lil doggy get goin' now, come on. Wh-hey, hey what the?
[The T.V. comes to life]
Newsreader: Shitsu Tonka update; sociologists report today that since the last nuclear war head known to man kind was placed safely in the space museum Titanic 2, there has never been such an extended period of world peace.
Bob: Ooohee. Well stick a broom up my but and sell me as a Kupie doll. Did you hear that Bucky, you see that? That's Tokyo, Rome. More Japanese propaganda, peace on earth my arse, we're still toe to toe with those Japs. I know it, I just know it and I'm not about to let the peace lovin' American way of life be infiltrated and indoctrinated by a bunch of short arsed, yellow, nigger lovin' races who go 'round killin' innocent people. No siree. [Titanic 2 comes into view] What the heck? Well blow me up and call me Nagasaki, look at that it's the Titanic 2. Hey Bucky let's go pick up that fifty mega ton of candy and go make some real peace. What do you say? Bucky will you listen to me boy, why don't you answer me so what's eatin' you? [Bucky rattles his teeth] Right, let's go make President Truman a proud man.

[Main room aboard the Titanic 2 in a wrestling ring]
Richard: Get out, get out there into your corners. Presenting Round 1 of the big world championship debate. In the blue corner, the affirmative, is the master of disaster, the mad Russian of concussion, Paul 'rabid dog' McDermott.
Paul: Muh muh muh muh.
Richard: And in the pink corner for the negative is the demon of screamin', the king of swing, the ponce who hits wants, Timothy 'pretty boy' Ferguson!
Tim: Aah get out you're hurtin' me! Listen mate I know your mother models bikinis for Arabian tourists!
Paul: Muh muh muh muh!
Tim: That's a lie!
Richard: Okay chaps I want a good clean fight. No biting, no scratching, no knives…
Tim: [Pulls out a knife] Oh damn!
Richard: …No nunchuckers…
Tim: [Pulls out nunchuckers] Not even little ones?
Richard: …and especially no toothpicks!
Tim: [Pulls out the large object not resembling a toothpick] Grrr!
Richard: Okay boys to your corners, to your corners now and we're getting ready and it's [ding] Round 1. And they're off for the big debate. And Paul's going round in circles he doesn't know where he's going, he's not quite sure. Ferguson's confused. Oh my God McDermott's peaked too soon, he's peaked too soon, he's exhausted, he's beaten, he's down, he's down, he's peaked too soon, he's down. I don't know how to say this but he's peaked too soon, he's down. 5 4 3 2… 1 2 3 4…

Narrator: Wayne Kerr and his pals Spinner and Paddlefoot. The only show on Shitsu Tonka with a cheap five violence rating.
Tim: They call me Wayne Kerr. [Wayne uses flame-thrower on rubber tree plant] And now for a community message…

[In a car speeding along a road]
Richard: Hello I'm Uncle Biff Happy. Take my word for it kids, if you drink and drive and get all the way home without getting busted you're a bloody genius!

[Back aboard the Titanic 2 in the main room]
Paul: Wow that was really great Ferguson.
Tim: You mean to tell me after all this you really like jazz music?
Paul: Well jazz music is okay, but I still hate you! [Pushes Tim]
Richard: And they're off again! And it looks like its [ding] Round 2. Flailing fists there's no way Dermo can penetrate those flailing fists. It's incredible nothing can stop him! Now nothing can stop him!
Tim: [makes straining noises, swiping at the air pauses and stands up]
Paul: [Punches Tim]
Richard: Oh Pretty Boy's down for the count. 5 4 3 2 1 [Paul chanting 'I won!'] You're out! [Ding]

[Somewhere in space, Bob sees the Titanic 2]
Bob: Target sighted at 10:00 [looks at watch] no make that 9:00. Well paint me black and call me Rastas, she's bigger than I thought she was. Buckle up bonehead we're goin' in! Woooh! We're goin' in Bucky weehee! [Bob flies the plane directly at the Titanic 2]

[Back aboard the Titanic 2 in the wrestling ring]
Paul: I won, I won, I won, I won! I love that crazy jazz beat!
Tim: Oh so you like jazz now. Does this mean you're not going to smash the record?
Paul: Nah! I gotta smash the record because I'm a man of principal.
Tim: Paul we have to keep this record for the Marquee.
Paul: Never, I have my pride [goes to smash record]
Richard: P-P-Paul Paul. We can give the last jazz record to the Marquee and if he likes the way we play jazz then he might be able to get us off this crate.
Paul: [goes to smash record]
Tim: P-P-Paul, P-P-Paul P-P-P-Paul Paul. Listen, fame, lights, herpes…
Paul: [goes to smash record]
Richard: Hey, hey Paul if you smash this the Marquee won't like us one little bit.
Tim: Don't you want to get off the Titanic Paul?
Paul: Yeah, maybe I could gift-wrap it. I love that crazy jazz beat. Do be do be…
Tim: You hypocritical popinjay! [Strangles Paul, pauses to sound of plane hurtling downwards then crashes. Tim goes to investigate].

[Inside Tim's room is the B29 bomber Bob was flying]
Tim: Huuuuh (in surprise).
Bob: What's wrong with you boy? [Talking to his copilot] You deaf or something? I said turn left, left don't you know your right from your left? [Rips arm off Bucky] Damn copilots all the same, first sign of trouble they go to pieces. Howdy I'm Bob. Something's wrong with your driveway boy!
Tim: What the hell are you doing here? Christ on a mountain!
Bob: Listen buddy we got no time for prayers. There's a grade-A war goin' down and you've got the only 'lil nukie in the neighborhood.
Tim: I don't understand…
[They leave Tim's room]
Bob: You don't understand huh, huh? Listen buddy I been workin' under operation code named 'nothing' cover for so long now I can neither confirm nor deny whether I can recall if I'm allowed to confirm or deny my own existence! Now does that make any sense?
Tim: Uh, uh.
Tim: Now listen, hold on to this [Holds out Bucky's arm].
Tim: Argh!
Bob: Alright hold onto that [holds out gun. Tim takes gun and holds it to his own head]. Listen buddy I just found out that the only thing you can be sure about in your lifetime, is that you can't be sure of nothin', but don't take my word for it! [Attaches arm to bust]
Tim: What are you doing?
Bob: What does it look like I'm doing? I'm arming the warhead. Right now we got exactly ten minutes to get this hunk of heaven on its way. So where's the escape hatch?
Tim: Uh, it's just over there but you can't open that. You're gonna have to disarm this warhead.
Bob: Hey, hey, hey, hey buddy listen, we've gone way past fail safe point here. This is a one way trip and I didn't come all this way to spoil my fun right? So wise up, life's a bitch and she's on heat!
Tim: Listen you disarm this warhead or I'll kill you! [Turns gun on Bob]
Bob: You can't shoot me I'm a fictional character.
Tim: [Tries to touch Bob]
Bob: See. Now gimme that damn thing before you poke your eye out! [Takes gun] We gotta get that hatch open. Come on now!
Tim: [strangles Bob] Disarm the bomb! You gotta disarm the bomb! You gotta disarm the bomb! You gotta disarm the bomb! You gotta disarm the bomb! You gotta disarm the bomb! I don't want to get violent! I don't want to get violent! [Bob turns into Paul] Paul?
Paul: You idiot!
Tim: Paul listen we've got a real problem…
Paul: No you've got a problem, I've got to get dressed.
[Enter Richard]
Tim: Richard I've got some terrible news!
Richard: What, what?
Tim: I think you better sit down.
Richard: Oh no that's terrible!
Tim: Rich listen, listen mate. There's a B29 bomber in my bedroom, Bob's come back, he's armed the warhead. We've got about ten minutes to live.
Richard: Hey?
Tim: Richie just tell me do you know anything about disarming warheads? Think real hard.
Richard: [Thinks very hard with a vacant expression]
Tim: Hello, hello? [Taps on Richard's head] Richie is mummy there? Put mummy on the phone Rich put mummy on the phone!
Richard: Hey?
Tim: Oh God! Darwin would love you Rich, both the city and the man.
Richard: [smiles stupidly] Aaah!

Paul: I am Troy the invincible! This drill is the tool of the oppressed blue-collar worker. This diamond tip is the symbol of the succumb tumor of the upper classes. With these implements I will stimulate the development of my third eye, and thus gaining greater insight into the human condition. [Drills hole in head, and blood pours out] As Stevie Wonder once said; I can see clearly now the pain has gone.

[News Break]
Newsreader: The Marquee de Sade has just beamed himself off the planet. This is a great day for music lovers. In other news stay tuned for the mustard gas massacre of little baby puppies at ten.

[Main room]
Tim: Stop ticking [hitting the bust] stop ticking! Arr, be like that. Rich, Rich what are you doing? We've got a bomb ticking down there!
[Door bell]
Richard: That's not important Tim. What's important right now is the Marquee de Sade has just arrived. We've got to set this place up for him. Lights [drum - lights dim], atmosphere [drum - candles light], sunglasses [Richard and Tim put on sunglasses], music 2 3 4[Richard plays drums, Tim plays double bass]
Flacco: [Marquee de Sade beams in playing a funnel like a trumpet] Jazz is not dead, it just has a slight blockage of the aorta.
Paul: Why I oughta! [Goes to punch Flacco] Hey how did you get in here?
Flacco: I came in through the bathroom window.
Paul: We don't have a bathroom window.
Flacco: Then you must have a leak in the engine room.
[Drips come from the ceiling]
Paul: You the Marquee?
Flacco: Yeah gimme some skin!
Paul: You've got enough skin already!
Flacco: Yeah! Gimme five! [Holds out hand]
Paul: You want five?
Flacco: Yeah!
Paul: Then take five! [Holds out hand]
Flacco: Yeah!
[They give each other five]
Paul & Flacco: Yeah! Yeow! Come on.
Paul: On the road again,
Flacco: Eeah!
Paul: and travelling down the back roads of my fore thoughts that kept your genitalia on my mind.
Flacco: Yeah!
Paul: It was a cool night,
Flacco: Yeah!
Paul: and some cat was playin' a hot saxophone,
Flacco:Yeah!
Paul: sweet and low.
Flacco: Oh yeah!
Paul: and the air seemed to hum with that mellow bass,
Paul & Flacco: Yeah!
Flacco: No, actually it was a flugal horn of you remember rightly.
Paul: Yeah?
Flacco: Yeah.
Paul: Yeah! Seemed to hum with that mellow flugal horn.
Flacco: Yeah!
Paul: and we were dancin' on the cold blue steel rim,
Flacco: Ye-he heh! No it was a soft pink sort of a round sort of pinkish rim.
Paul: Yeah?
Flacco: Oh yeah!
Paul & Flacco: Yeah!
Paul: and we were dancin' on a soft pink round sort of rim,
And sweeping down the back streets
Flacco: No, no the front streets, sweeping the front streets. Not out the back, yeah.
Paul: Yeah?
Flacco: Oh yeah!
Paul & Flacco: Yeah!
Paul: and sweeping down the front streets like a demented whore,
Flacco: Oh crazy mumma!
Paul: and drinkin' what waste out of a true petty drunk the sweet honey nectar!
Flacco: No it was sour grapes that's all.
Paul: Sour grapes? Yeah?
Flacco: Yeah!
Paul: Like it was sour grapes, and she,
Flacco: Who?
Paul: and she,
Flacco: Who?
Paul: and she,
Flacco: Who?
Paul: her!
Flacco: Oh her.
Paul: Her cup was over flowing, accepting the dim deluded mass of vulgar self-satisfying flesh!
All: Ooooh!
Paul: Sweet deception of moist,
Flacco: Oh!
Paul: Moisture,
Flacco: Oh!
Paul: The sodden,
Flacco: Oh!
Paul: Damp,
Flacco: Oh!
Paul: Marshland,
Flacco: Oh!
Paul: Of desire.
Flacco: Oh (disappointed).
Paul: Trodden flat,
Flacco: Oh!
Paul: By the heavy boots,
Flacco: Ooooh!
Paul: Of council workmen.
Flacco: No, no they were linesmen for the county actually, yeah.
Paul: No!
Flacco: Yeah.
Paul & Flacco: Yeah!
Paul: Come on.
Richard: Wait, wait, wait Mr. Marquee. Before you go Mr. Marquee sir. We'd like to present you with this; the last jazz record in existence, a version of 'whoops there goes another rubber tree plant.'
Flacco: Yeah?
Richard: Yeah! [Holds up record and spins it around, Flacco's hair as record needle. Record skips]
Flacco: Yeah! All right my little seedlings of swing there's no time to lose. For between us all we will breed a master race of E flat diminished minors. With extended sevenths of course. [Looking at Paul] You know son, looking at you here like this, I could go for you mate.
Paul: Hey wait a second aren't you going to take us back to earth?
Flacco: What do you mean? It's jazz hunting season down there.
Paul: You lied to me Ferguson! [Hits him repeatedly on the head with a hammer]
Flacco: That won't do any good here try this. [Hands Paul the record]
Paul: Right! [Hits Tim over the head with the record and breaks it]
[Enter Bob]
Bob: [fires his gun] Now just a cotton pickin' minute. I don't know what y'all think you're doin' with this jazz, love shit thing, but we got a loaded bomb on board and I'm fixin' on ending this damn war!
Paul: Hey who do you think you are buddy?
Tim: Get back! He's dangerous.
Bob: Listen anyone moves and I'm going to rip their tongue out and use it as a chamois!
Tim: [to Paul] See!
Bob: Hey I'm talkin' to you buddy! Yeah you with that shit eatin' smile all over your face! Yeah you with those ugly friends of yours! Hey buddy I want you now listen up I want you to take that bomb and load it in the bay right now. Quick smart before I whip your pink little arses. Hey hurry up there or I'll kick the shine right out of your teeth! [They put the bomb on the bay door] Well thank you very much fellas much obliged. [Bob presses the hatch button]
Paul, Tim & Flacco: Not the hatch, not the hatch!
Bob: Get back, get back! Damn thing won't work. This Japanese shit never works! Come on you son of a bitch! [Jumps up and down on the hatch door] I'm gonna have to ride this baby in myself!
Paul, Tim & Flacco: Not the hatch, not the hatch!
Bob: Hasta la vista babies! [Sits on bomb, shoots hatch button. Hatch opens and everything gets sucked out]
Paul: [Sticks his finger in the hole where the button was and closes the hatch, being electrocuted at the same time]
Bob: Yeeharr! [Bob rides the bomb to earth] Woohoo yeehee I love the great out doors! Woohoo! Ride it baby! Woohoo! Ride it mumma! Woohoo! Ride it cowboy! Woohee!

[Back aboard the Titanic 2 in Tim's room]
Tim: One collection of extremely rare jazz records.
Paul & Richard: Missing.
Tim: One bust of Evelyn Waugh.
Paul & Richard: Missing.
Tim: One Marquee de Sade.
Paul & Richard: Missing.
Tim: One rubber dinghy.
Paul: Eh?
[Tim and Richard look at each other]
Paul: That's great isn't it. I mean there goes my chance at fame.
Tim: Fame, lights, stardom, spaghetti denim…
Paul: God I hate jazz!
Richard: Hey Tim what's this airplane doing in your room?
Tim: That's not important right now Rich. What is important is that we've learnt a lesson today. That's right you see we've learnt that nuclear war can be fun.
Richard: No Tim. War huh, good God. What is it good for?
Tim: Well, productivity, unemployment, advancing industrialization, male bonding, the free expression of man, absailing…
Richard: No, no, no, no Tim, Tim. War is bad it's very, very bad. It's really, really, really bad. It's really, really, really, re-
Paul: Yeah, yeah Rich thanks very much mate. War is bad, war is wrong. The small wars, the day to day wars, the everyday wars of man against man, husband against wife, brother against sister, Uncle against nephew. There's more evil in war [Evelyn Waugh] than we can say, and all the small wars combined can make a Great War, but what is a Great War? Let's just have a moment of silence.
Tim: And let's take a minute to reflect. [Pulls out a mirror and looks at himself]