The gross misadventures of a hyper chihuahua and a stupid cat.

Ren: [afflicted with Space Madness and holding a bar of soap he's been chewing] Oh, no! I know what you want! You coveteth my ice cream bar!
Stimpy: Easy now...
Ren: [shouts] No you don't! You can't take it from me now!
[starts to cry]
Ren: I've had this ice cream bar since I was a child. People... always trying to take it from me... why... won't they leave me... *alone*!
[grabs a toothbrush]
Ren: [shouts] Don't make me use this! One step closer, I'm warning you! Don't make me use it!
[Stimpy takes one more step]
Ren: Now you've done it! You forced me to use it!
[Brushes his teeth]
Stimpy: Happy-happy, joy-joy.
Ren: At last I have control of your TV set. Are you receiving me? Welcome to our secret headquarters.
Stimpy: Thousands of miles beneath the earth's crust.
Ren: Shut up you fool! How do we know we can trust them?
Stimpy: We could make them take the oath!
Ren: Perfect! The oath! Put your hand on the TV screen and repeat after me. I do hereby promise only to watch the Ren and Stimpy show. To make underleg noises during the good scenes. To wear unwashed Lederhosen every single day of the rest of my life! That's it, you're in our secret club! Alright Stimpy, they're OK. Show them the stuff.
Stimpy: Congratulations...
Ren: Shut up and show them.
Stimpy: I'm showing them, I'm showing them. OK kids, its time for a secret cartoon!
Ren: Hey, Jasper. Where's Phil?
Jasper the Pup: I told you, they put him to sleep.
Ren: So wake him up.
Jasper the Pup: You don't wake up from the *big* sleep.
Stimpy: What's the big sleep, Ren?
Ren: They all think I'm crazy, but I know better. It is not I who are crazy. It is I who am *mad*! Can't you hear them? Didn't you see the crowd?
[the guys are applying for jobs as firehouse dogs. Ren paints them both with "Dalmatian Paint"]
Ren: Now, what do you see, Stimpy?
Stimpy: Ugly black spots.
Ren: RIGHT. Now shut up and look stupid.
Ren: You! You and your fan mail, Mr. Fan Club. Everyone love you, don't they? Well, guess what the mailman brought for you today? *Nothing!* This letter's for me! You, they have forgotten! Now it is me they love. It is I who am most loved! It is I who shall rule! You see? This is the proof that you are finished!
[Opens letter]
Ren: Listen! Listen to what it says. "Dear Ren: - That's me, that's me! - You are my favorite TV star." Are you getting this?
[Rubs the letter on Stimpy's face]
Ren: It's me they love! I am *king*! "When I grow up, I want to be just like you." How about that?
[Elbows Stimpy in the stomach; Stimpy doubles over with pain]
Ren: A man with some ambition! "You are my favorite person in the whole world. Love - He says love - Your friend... Stimpy"?
Ren: I'm all out of powdered toast!
Narrator: How can he possibly resist the maddening urge to erradicate history at the mere push of a single button? The beautiful, shiny button? The jolly, candy-like button? Will he hold out, folks? Can he hold out?
Stimpy: No I can't! Yeagh!
[Pushes button]
Ren: At last I have control of your T.V. set. Is you're mother there? No? Good! Welcome to our secret headquarters.
Stimpy: Deep inside the lower intestine of a sperm whale!
Sperm Whale: [At vet's office, clutching stomah] OH GOD! GOD! I CAN'T STAND IT! MAKE THE PAIN STOP!
Ren: Teeth to the left of me! Gums to the right of me! I tell you I can't stand it! I'm going *mad*!
Stimpy: [singing to the tune of "God Save the Queen"] Our country reeks of trees, our yaks are really large, and they smell like rotting beef carcasses. And we have to clean up after them, and our saddle sores are the best. We proudly wear women's clothing and searing sand blows up our skirts. And the buzzards they soar overhead, and poisonous snakes will devour us whole, and our bones will bleach in the sun. And we will probably go to...
Stimpy: ...and that is our great reward for being the Royal Canadian Kilted Yaksmen!
[repeated line]
Ren: Boy, Stimpy... we sure had fun today, didn't we? So long, kids! Come on, Stimpy, say goodbye.
Stimpy: Duh, where are we going?
Ren: [to Stimpy] The show's over.
[to Audience]
Ren: See you next time!
Stimpy: Next time? When's that?
Ren: Pretty soon. Don't worry.
Stimpy: Pretty soon?
[getting choked up]
Stimpy: How long is that?
Ren: In a little while, man!
Stimpy: [crying] A little while? What'll we do 'til then?
Ren: Why, you could shave your yak... or eat olive loaf!
Stimpy: Blecch!
[resumes crying]
Ren: I know! You can keep yourself busy with this!
[gives Stimpy a bag of Gritty Kitty Litter]
Stimpy: Oh, joy!
[takes the bag and runs off-screen]
Stimpy: [bag-tearing and litter-crunching noises are heard]
Ren: [getting pelted with clumps of litter] Eh... goodbye, folks!
Stimpy: Duh, goodbye, folks!
Ren: Don't listen to him, he's a good guy but not quite right in the head
Fire Chief: I've known fellas like that
Pixie Stimpy: Hey Ren, you ready for another day of back-breaking labor, kissing dew drops?
Pixie Ren: Dew drop dead.
Stimpy: Ahem. Presenting the Cheese-A-Phone. Now we can communicate with various cheeses, regardless of their foreign tongue. Go ahead, Ren, say something in Limburger.
[Ren is sitting at the foot of the bed, shaking and sweating]
Ren: I... I was nice today. Nice to those insipid little monkeys, answering their stupid letters. My hands... DIRTY! THE DIRT WON'T COME OFF!
[He screams]
Ren: President... Ha! What a joke. President. President of what? *His* fan club! How they love him! Look at him, lying asleeeeep. The idol of millions. He's a fool! A sad, silly little fool. How easily I could end the farce... with these hands! These DIRTY hands! AND WITH THESE HANDS I HOLD THE FATE OF MILLIONS! They think he's a god, but he's as mortal as we. I know! Just one squeeze... then it's over.
[Ren moves toward Stimpy menacingly]
Ren: Just... one... squeeze... AAAAH! It's happening again! MY BRAIN! MY HOT... STINGING... BRAIN!
[He holds his pulsing brain, screaming in agony]
[Ren & Stimpy are camped out in a tent on a weird planet. A knock is heard]
Ren: Hey, Stimpy, go answer de flap.
Ren: Oh, my beloved ice-cream bar. How I love to lick your creamy center.
[eats bar of soap]
Ren: And your oh, so nutty chocolate covering. You're not like the others. You like the same things I do: Wax paper. Boiled football leather. Dog breath. We're not hitchhiking anymore. We're riding!
[Ren is asleep atop of Stimpy]
Ren: Oh my darling, my little cucaracha. I kiss your sleep encrusted eyes. I caress your large bulbous nose... ooh, let us join lips een one final sweet exchange of saliva.
[kisses Stimpy, then wakes up]
Ren: AHHHH! I've been poisoned! I must wash myself.
[drinks out of toilet]
Ren: What's de matter with you man? Have you no sense of hygiene?
Stimpy: [Stimpy rapidly pokes at Ren's shoulder while he sleeps] Ren? Ren?
Ren: What EEZ IT, man?
[Stimpy puts the Happy Helmut on Ren]
Ren: [panicky] 'ey! What iz this? Get it off me!
Stimpy: It's the Happy Helmut, Ren. Now you'll always be happy! And this is the remote control, and I use this button to control how happy you are.
Ren: Now listen, Cadet. I've got a job for you. See this button?
[Stimpy reaches for the button; Ren slaps his hand away]
Ren: Don't touch it! It's the History Eraser button, you fool!
Stimpy: So what'll happen?
Ren: That's just it. We don't know. Maybe something bad, maybe something good. I guess we'll never know, 'cause you're going to guard it. You won't touch it, will you?
Stimpy: Hey, Ren, this horse reminds me of your Uncle Eddie.
Ren: Why is that?
Stimpy: Because he's big and stinky.
Ren: Hey, you shouldn't say mean things like that! Didn't you ever consider that this horse might have feelings?
[Stimpy's nose returns after striking out on it's own]
Stimpy: Nosey, Nosey, Nosey! We saw you on TV.
Ren: So we burned it!
Ren: I'm so hungry I can't stand it. What are we having?
Stimpy: Ta-da!
Ren: A can! Wait a minute. What are you having?
Stimpy: The usual. I'm having a sock.
Ren: You're giving *me* the can? Are you sure?
Stimpy: Go ahead. It's yours.
Ren: You're one of the good ones, man.
Stimpy: I know how you can be important. I know how you can be really important.
Ren: Really? How?
Stimpy: You can be the president... of my fan club!
Ren: President? Wow! President.
[Ren imagines he's the President of the United States]
Ren: [Screaming on the phone] What do you mean you don't agree with me? Do you know who you're dealing with?
[Pushes "The Button"; A loud explosion blows up a chunk of the world; Ren laughs maniacally]
Ren: [Back to reality] I'll do it!
Ren: All right, Stimpy. He's got us. Give him back the five bucks.
Stimpy: [crying] I can't! I've been bad, Ren. You'll smack me.
Ren: When have I ever? Now go ahead. Tell me what's wrong?
Stimpy: All this talk about eating made me hungry. I ate the five bucks.
Ren: [Slaps Stimpy] You stupid idiot! You filthy worm! You bloated sack!
Ren: [Stimpy is on strike, so Ren calls for replacements] Hello, Scab Union? I need another replacement. No, send them all over. I'll pick my own scabs from now on.
Powdered Toast Man: Quick, man! Cling tenaciously to my buttocks!
The Pope: Both of them?
Stimpy: [praying] And please bless Grandma and Grandpa...
Ren: And please give me a million dollars, and a fridge with a padlock and, oh yeah, huge pectoral muscles.
[on a weird, alien planet]
Female Chihuahua: Can you spare a cup of protoplasm?
Powdered Toast Man: [being sworn in as President] I, Powdered Toast Man, do solemnly swear to relieve the American citizens of their basic human rights.
Stimpy: [singing like Sinatra] When I eat too much, I regurgitate / Some hits the table, but most hits the plate / I like to eat, then re-eat what I ate / That's why my stomach -That's why my stomach, Jack! - that's why my stomach gets a cramp.
George Liquor: Hey! Whose trash is that?
Ren: Stimpy, move your butt! It's a higher mammal!
[They leave]
George Liquor: Keep out of my trash! I'm telling you for the last time! A man works hard for his filth just to have vagrants come and steal it. It's a crying shame.
Mailman: Hello, Mr Cat. You're looking healthy today.
Ren: [Wearing a Stimpy disguise] Shut up! Duh! I don't want any more of your flithy letters. Your services are no longer welcomed here, and - Duh! - tell those stupid kids to stop writing fan letters for me, Stimpson J. Cat. Duh!
Mailman: Whatever you say, Mr. Cat. Actually, I only have one letter today. It's for Mr. Hoek. I guess I'll have to throw it out.
Ren: Give me that!
[Takes letter and closes door]
Ren: Letter for me! Letter for me! Nothing for Stimpy!
Salve Salesman: How do you think Gerorge Washington fit into his party dress? *Salve*!
Ren: Belay that nose-picking, Cadet!
Stimpy: That was the union, Local 6-7/8s, and we're on a walkout.
[Takes out his Sidekicks Union card]
Ren: Organized ignorance, eh?
Man-Eating Village Idiot: Thou doth possess a great wealth of ignorance.