CHILD: Dear Uncle or Aunt Dilbert,
my name is Petrunyik Vlastominitz.
I thank you so much for being my foster parent.
Life in Elbonia has become so much better
since you began sending your 87 cents a week.
I now have a shoe,
and my vision has returned
to look upon the beautiful mud of my homeland.
Hopefully, one day you can visit me when the--
check one--
flood, famine, volcanic eruption, plague,
or war has/have ended.
Love, Petru.
Petru, your food problem may be over sooner than you think.
I'll start with a cup of coffee.
You're going to have
to make your own breakfast today.
I'm busy inventing a hybrid food plant
that could end world hunger forever.
Mm-hmm, that's fascinating.
I'll have two fried strips of the new thing
with hash browns and coffee.
Do you think banging you mug is going to work?
This is not a diner.
Okay, go back to becoming famous with your new food invention.
I'm not doing this to become famous,
though I admit that may be
an unavoidable consequence
of coming up with the greatest improvement
in food production since Squanto.
"Squanto"?
He showed the pilgrims that
if you put a fish in the ground with your corn seeds,
it fertilizes the plant.
How do you know Squanto
wasn't trying to grow a fish tree?
Maybe he was too lazy to dig his own hole.
Dogbert, what I'm working on here may once and for all
put the lie to the Malthusian imperative
and save humanity
from the grim prospect of a foodless future.
Put the what to who and save who from what?
What I've come up with is a nutritious hybrid
that will feed millions of people for pennies a day.
Do you want to see it?
Only if it goes good with jelly.
I inserted the DNA
from a prize-winning Norwegian cow
into the nucleus of a tomato seed.
Then I made it rectangular
so you can stack them more efficiently.
Part meat, part tomato.
I call it the tomeato.
Do you want to be the first to eat it?
That depends on the alternatives.
Is it too late
to dig up Squanto's fish?
Maybe we should test it on someone expendable first.
Ratbert.
Breakfast.
Hey, where's yours?
We thought you should eat first for once.
Now this is more like it.
You're finally treating like a member of the family.
[BELCHES]
[EXPLOSION]
[music]
[CHANTING]
[ELECTRICITY CRACKLING]
Comments, people?
This is perhaps the most revolting food item
I have ever encountered.
It actually frightens me.
It's so unappealing on so many levels
it's hard to know what to criticize first.
It's like Wally,
except small enough to flush down the toilet.
Thank God for my oversized head.
I think it's creepy!
Is it alive?
If you tried to put this thing on the market,
you'd be out of business in a week.
Now that is definitely...
Not what we're looking for.
Wait a minute.
You're going to dismiss the tomeato
because it's unattractive?
Sound reasoning from my perch, Dilby.
But it's a perfect food source for third-world countries.
It contains all the vitamins and minerals necessary
to sustain an adult.
It grows anywhere. It doesn't need refrigeration.
Two words, Dilby.
Ug-ly.
What does that have to do with anything?
I know for a fact that there's a market for this.
No offense, Dilweed,
but what you engineers know about marketing
could fit inside the very small opening
on a very small thing.
Well put.
What about Elbonia?
There's a famine in Elbonia.
Until CNN has a name for it, like "famine in Elbonia"
it's not really happening.
Who are we to impose
our way of life upon another culture?
I'm pretty sure that every culture likes to eat.
Suppose we discovered
an entire nation of supermodels? What then?
That is the dumbest hypothetical question
I have ever heard.
People always say that
when I'm winning the argument.
If I could interrupt here--
And I know I can--
I'm hearing some good news here
for the old torpedo.
Tomeato.
Whoa. Easy, Norbert.
Now this Elbonia.
It's not in America, right?
Your guess is as good as mine...
possibly better
because I try to make all my guesses rhyme.
Anyway we could grow these crapberries in Elbonia,
then bring them back
as an exotic import specialty food.
You know, the kind you give to other people
when you can't think of a real gift.
Hmm. a basket of Norwegian sour meats.
I don't see why
I have to go down to accounting
to increase the travel budget
just for a trip to Elbonia.
I know it seems like a form
of arbitrary punishment.
But?
But what?
[SCREAMING]
Uh, who do I speak to
about increasing my travel budget?
Travel budget?
Who do you think you are?
I think I'm someone traveling to Elbonia on business.
Do you have any proof?
Proof?
Since when do we need proof to do our jobs?
Do you think we just give out money
to anyone who asks for it?
Do I look like Santa Claus to you?
No, you look like some sort of hideous creature.
Thank you, because that's the look I'm going for.
What if I just go on the trip
and then submit carefully documented receipts
when I return?
And what if you never return?
I'll leave explicit instructions
for the executor of my will to file my receipts.
Very well.
Sign here.
I approve your request to use your personal airline miles
to pay for this trip.
What?
You really should read the fine print.
It's nice having visitors.
So, where's all the famine?
Let's ask.
Excuse me.
Can you direct us
to the famine-stricken parts of Elbonia?
What is famine?
The food shortages,
the hunger crisis.
I don't know what you're talking about.
We have no hunger here.
I myself ate four meals already today.
Yes, of mud.
Have you tasted it?
No thanks.
Hey, chocolate.
Not just chocolate.
Nutritious, non-fattening, and obviously abundant.
Maybe this was a mistake.
They're eating mud, Wally.
Mud.
Obviously, they're in denial.
Um, can you tell me
where this picture was taken?
Yes, that is Petrunyik Vlastominitz,
the richest man in Elbonia.
His mansion is one mile in that direction.
I think you're confused.
This is my foster child.
I send him 87 cents a week.
[LAUGHING]
Yeah, you and about a billion other people.
[CONTINUES LAUGHING]
Isn't that a sight, Wally?
The muddy plains of Elbonia being transformed
into vibrant fields of tomeatoes.
Yeah, great.
Can we go back to the hotel?
I don't feel like I'm on a business trip
until I pocket the little shampoos.
WALLY: Hey, check it out.
It's a cornucopia.
Salads, soups, meat, fish, poultry.
Look at the footnote.
It says all food is made out of Elbonian mud.
I'm not a fussy eater like you.
NEWSCASTER: And in a late-breaking story,
another 5,000 ethnic Elbonians
decided to leave the country today.
Since there is no difference
between ethnic and non-ethnic Elbonians,
we have no idea why.
What else is on?
Let's see.
MAN: And welcome back
to Elbonian Monday night football.
Here's the opening kickoff.
And that's the game.
Final score: Elbonian Molemen: zero
Elbonian Chickenhawks: zero.
That was exciting.
I had money on that game.
Coming up next: ELBONIAN BAYWATCH.
WALLY: Dilbert, would you mind leaving for a little while?
I have trouble watching Baywatch
with someone else in the room.
[LOUD CRACKLING]
Did you hear that?
Yeah.
You really ought to stretch more.
Wow, that was fast.
Experts are holding the tomeato responsible
for plunging Elbonia into the worst famine ever.
It's the tomeatoes' fault.
It's a freak of nature.
Meat and fruit; whoever heard of such a thing?
It has sucked all the nutritional value
out of our delicious Elbonian mud.
Now it tastes like mud!
It's inedible!
It smells bad!
Although, I do admit, it stacks nicely.
TV ANNOUNCER: The Elbonian exodus has begun
as hungry Elbonians seek refuge in neighboring countries
while starving Elbonians who remain
are resorting to desperate measures.
This is the most delicious hotel
I've ever eaten.
We've got to find poor little Petrunyik.
He must be so frightened and helpless.
Do you know where this picture was taken?
[CHUCKLING]
Tourists.
Yeah, you got five minutes.
What do you want?
First of all, you lied to me.
I thought you were a starving child,
not an Elbonian fat cat.
Although, I must admit you've done an excellent job
investing my 87 cents per week.
Thank you.
Second, I came here to help Elbonia
with the advent of the tomeato crop,
but it hasn't worked out that way.
Instead of stabilizing an unstable country,
I've destabilized a stable one.
So, like, just the opposite?
Yes.
So what do you want me to do about it besides laugh?
Well, admittedly, the tomeato tastes like wet suede,
but it looks good and stacks well.
So?
Well, as a food product, it's a total loser.
But think about it--
the tomeato would make a great lightweight building material.
You could rebuild the infrastructure,
create employment, encourage trade,
and jump-start the economy.
But the tomeato isn't a building material.
Let me taste it.
Blah!
It is now.
How much is this going to cost me?
You can underwrite the entire reconstruction
for $1.35.
So then I convinced Petrunyik
that the tomeato could be profitable
as a building material.
Good work, Wally.
When you get back,
remind me which one you are.
You got it.
And remind me why you went over there
and what you did.
I will.
And, while you're at it,
maybe you can tell me who the hell I am.
I'll see what I can do.
Will I get some sort of non-monetary award?
I'll see what we have in the lost-and-found.
You owe me big time.
Gee, I wonder if these tomeatoes
have been kept in a temperature-controlled warehouse.
Why?
Have you ever seen what happens to a dead camel in the sun?
Those tomeatoes are now half-rancid meat,
and there's always the issue
of the inherent fertilizer that I added.
What are you saying?
BOSS: It gives me great pleasure,
nothing disgusting or obscene in any way,
but great pleasure nonetheless,
to present Wally with this non-monetary award.
Don't put it on, Wally.
Remember if the glove fits, you must quit.
Am I the only one here
who sees the logic of that?
I'm not going to wear it, Asok.
I'm putting it in my awards trophy case
with the tube sock and the...
Oh, I guess it's just the two things.
It is my dream that some day
I will win something from the lost-and-found box.
I've got my eye on a little black comb.
Calm down, everyone.
There are enough non-monetary incentives
for all of you.
Hey, I'm missing a glove!
[HUMMING]
Do you think this is too ostentatious?
I mean, it's a lot for one person.
It's fine.
Look, we have to do something about Elbonia.
I don't know.
If I win another award,
I'm afraid I'll lose my ability
to relate to the little people.
Wally, I...
Uh-oh... it's happening already.
I can't relate to you.
TV ANNOUNCER: In the news,
Elbonian strongman
Petrunyik Vlastominitz
has successfully used the threat
of deploying long-range tomeato-based weapons,
including the tomeato bomb,
to extort neighboring countries just for kicks,
managing to jump-start the once-robust economy
of nascent superpower Elbonia.
Uh-oh.
Didn't you win the Nobel glove for that one, Oppenheimer?
No, I didn't.
Nice job.
It's not exactly what I had in mind.
Oh, yes, it is.
You wanted to end hunger in Elbonia with tomeatoes.
Now that they're being used as weapons, you will.
Congratulations.
I think you're a strong candidate
for the congressional used handkerchief of honor.
If we could only get them to eat the tomeato
rather than use it as a weapon.
You are a dreamer.
People of Elbonia,
we must cease using the tomeato as a weapon.
Perhaps you misunderstood me.
I said the tomeato was not designed
and should not be used as a weapon.
Did you say the tomeato should not BE USED AS WEAPON?
Yes.
I think we need backup.
Drop the Dilmom.
Repeat, drop the Dilmom.
[WOMAN SCREAMING]
What can my mom do?
Uh, who has the longest track record in the world
for making people eat things that taste like crap?
Good thinking.
TV ANNOUNCER: It's time for COOKING WITH DILMOM.
Here's your host, Dilmom.
Today, we will prepare the succulent tomeato.
I know, I know, it tastes like crap, but hear me out.
A common error people make in the preparation of the tomeato
is in treating it like a vegetable
instead of what it is:
half meat, half tomato,
which, incidentally, is a fruit, not a vegetable.
As with any meat,
you have to thoroughly disguise it
before anyone will want to eat it.
First, you slice it,
then you burn it over a fire
until you can't tell what it was originally.
What about the taste?
The taste comes from the seasonings.
Does anyone have ketchup?
It is delicious.
It tastes like ketchup.
This is very impressive,
but our Elbonian mud hasn't been the same
since Dilbert rendered it inedible
with his agricultural boondoggle.
That wouldn't be the first time.
Does anyone have any vanilla bean extract?
Uh-oh!
Try it.
It is delicious.
Let us lay down our tomeatoes of mass destruction
and lift up our tomeatoes of peace and plenty
and return ourselves to the backward
and inconsequential country we once were.
[ALL CHEERING]
It worked.
Yes, I suppose you're off the hook.
Instead of being known
as the father of the tomeato bomb,
you'll return to your former status
as an anonymous cubicle dweller.
I'll take it.
She still has the magic.
I remember one time,
she convinced me to eat a whole can of Play-doh.
That wasn't her. That was me.
No. I remember distinctly.
She called from the pay phone
and said dinner would be late,
so I should start in on the Play-doh.
Did it sound like this?
[IMITATING DILMOM]: Dilbert, I'll be home late.
Why don't you see
how much Play-doh you can eat.
[GROANS]
As luck would have it,
we found another glove to give out
as a non-monetary award.
This one goes to Loud Howard.
Oh, yes!
That glove will go perfectly
with my other-- oh...
And last but not least, yet far from most,
somewhere in the lower-middle range,
we have for Dilbert,
a lovely baggie that once held a sandwich.
Thank you.
You know, it's funny.
On the inside of my trophy case,
a sock and a glove,
while on the outside,
this rag, destined to clean the dust
from the other objects.
There's such a fine line
between dust rag and valuable trophy.
At least my award wasn't on someone's smelly foot.
Are you saying your one non-monetary award
is better than my two non-monetary awards?
No, I'm not saying that.
Good.
I'm saying it's better than the sock.
You take that back.
Those darn non-monetary incentives
really get their energy up.
I must remember to give one to myself.
This came for you.
[music]