A Room With a Bellevue is the sixth episode of the third season.
|A Room With A Bellevue|
Season 3, Episode 16
February 17th 1996
Duckman gets placed in a funny farm after pleading temporary insanity to a charge of public ranting. He likes the strict regimentation of the institution (compared to the anarchy and chaos of outside the institution) so much that he decides to have himself permanently committed. Cornfed comes to rescue Duckman from the institution, but is too late as he has already been given shock treatment. Luckily Cornfed has a book on brain surgery and gets Duckman back to 'normal'.
- The original version of this episode has a small section where Duckman is being dragged through a room where some residents are being given a test, and Dr. Stein asks them about seeing Duckman and a question of time. For some strange reason this scene is usually cut. The scene is included on the DVD.
- The names of Morsink and Ducharme should be well known to Duckman fans of the 90's who visited the newsgroup alt.tv.duckman. Arnoud Morsink ran the original Duckman FAQ and Joe Ducharme had his own Duckman fan site.
- Duckman disguises himself as Scarlett O'Hara from Gone With the Wind.
- Episode Title Reference: The film A Room With a View.
- This episode containes what is often considered to be Duckman's greatest rant of all time.
- Duckman gives Charles and Mambo a ribbed condom for their birthday. This is a condom with ridges designed to increase pleasure in the woman.
- Charles and Mambo turn 11.
- One of the photos Bernice cuts Duckman out of is the picture of Ajax and Beatrice from Research and Destroy, only with Duckman instead of Beatrice.
- Another photo seen on the table in that scene is the photo Duckman gave his mom in the Germ Turns.
- Dr. Ben Stein
- Morsink and Ducharme
Duckman: And when you think about it, isn't that exactly the point? (Ducharme and Mersink look at each other quizzically) Duckman: Parking. (Ducharme and Mersink look at each other and smile) Duckman: And driving. And shopping. And eating. And working. Somewhere, somehow, they're different now, none of 'em are the same, they all got chewed up and spit back out, and they don't taste like living anymore! Don't you see what it's like in this deranged Whirring Blender of a world?! Every day is an agonizing ordeal, like balancing a pot of scalding water on your head while people whip your legs and butt … Aaaah, you never forget your senior prom … YOU think I'm "sick"?! Well the only disease I've got is "Modern Life," a schnutbusting gauntlet of inefficiency and misery that's one long parade of let-downs, put-downs, trickle downs, shutouts, freeze outs, sell-outs, numnuts, nincompoops and nimrods, all making every day as much fun as waxing a flaming Pontiac with your tongue, where even if you do luck into the possibility of some fleeting pleasure, like, say, if some nymphomaniac telephone operator with the muscle control of Romanian mat-slappers agree to a little strip air hockey, it'll be over before it starts 'cuz some vowel-lacking, feta-reeking cab-jockey slams his checker up your hatchback and the cab is owned by some pinata spanker from a Santeria cult in Xoacalpa who starts shaking chicken bones at you and gives you a boil on your neck so big all it needs is Michael Jordan's autograph to make it complete, and even with all this, with ALL THIS, I still drag my sorry butt off the Sealy every morning and stick my face in the reaping machine for one more day, knowing when it's time to flash the cosmic card key at those Pearly Gates, I won't be in the coffin anyway 'cuz some underhanded undertaker sold my heart, pancreas and other assorted Good 'N' Plenty to that same Santeria cult so does anybody really wonder why anybody is hanging onto sanity by the atoms on the tips of their fingernails while life dirty-dances on their digits, and is it really any wonder that I seem DERANGED???!!