[ORCHESTRA TUNING]
Last time on Dilbert!
I've programmed this to find any trace of life,
gather samples,
and return directly to me when it's done.
Not yet!
The unfertilized eggs are ready for implanting
in the surrogate hillbilly.
It's artificial nano-machine DNA.
When do you expect it to return?
The only thing I know for sure
is that it will return in the end.
[SCREAMS]
In a word, he's... pregnant.
Knocked up?
You'll tell him when he wakes up, won't you?
Maybe in the third trimester.
Your new health maintenance organization
will be somewhat less robust than the old one.
How much less?
They operate out of an Italian restaurant.
I need to see a doctor,
or at least a waiter, right away.
Don't move.
I will make a sound wave,
and Juan will create a picture from the sonic signature.
[SONAR PINGING]
What's in there?!
Sweet mother of God!
Don't you think you're overreacting a little?
Gaah!
And now for our opening title sequence!
Everyone, sing along!
[EXPLOSION]
[ELECTRICITY CRACKLING]
Are you telling me this IS WHAT'S INSIDE ME?
Oh...
The ultrasound never lies.
That's not ultrasound!
Your busboy drew this sketch
while you made booping sounds at my stomach.
If you are not satisfied, I can take it off your bill.
Let me speak with the manager.
I'm sorry, but I don't believe my baby is a bowl of fruit.
And a carefully draped tablecloth.
I want a second opinion.
How about a seascape
with light coming through a wave?
Very beautiful.
I demand to see an actual doctor!
Your health plan doesn't cover that,
but I can offer you fresh ground pepper
warmed to body temperature under my arm.
Great. I have an unidentified baby in me,
and my health care plan doesn't include health care.
Maybe you should sell your story to the tabloids.
I could never stoop so low.
Here's a woman who gave birth to 25 babies,
each one the size of a peanut.
They gave her a million dollars.
And a cigar box to use as a nursery.
I don't need their money.
I still have a job.
I have savings.
For now.
So I understand I'm gonna be an uncle.
Unless it's a girl, then I'll be an aunt.
Shouldn't you be swimming in the sewer or something?
I'm taking a shortcut.
So you're basically a pregnant woman.
I hope you won't treat me any differently.
Would you mind buying the cake for Asok's birthday celebration?
I don't mind.
I suddenly enjoy shopping for pastries,
but back to my point:
I don't want to be treated any differently.
Perish the thought.
By the way, would you mind planning
our next off-site staff meeting?
I'll do it, but only because I want it done right.
Well, that's the same reason Alice always gives.
[CHUCKLES]
[COUGHING] Sucker!
I think we should talk about maternity leave.
I ever tell you about the woman who had 25 babies,
each one the size of a peanut?
I fired her before she delivered.
You can't fire someone for being pregnant.
That's against the law.
It was strictly for safety reasons.
I was afraid she'd go into labor
and start spraying those babies like a Tommy gun.
Someone could have lost an eye.
That is discrimination!
Don't get your oversized panties in a bunch, Dilberta.
You got a good month before your performance goes all to hell
and I fire you.
If I lose my job, how will I afford this baby?
You should've thought of that
before you became a FREAK OF NATURE.
My work will not be affected by this pregnancy.
No one here will even know about it
unless you tell them.
I'll try to hold it in.
[GRUNTING]
[STRANGLED GASPING]
[BLUBBERING]
It's like holding in a sneeze.
I'm gonna break a rib.
Can I tell one person? Just one?
Well, if it hurts that bad,
I guess one person would be okay.
LOUD HOWARD: What?
Dilbert's having a baby?!
Did you see the new coffee mugs?
The skywriters spelled your name wrong,
but everyone knew what they meant.
If you give birth to a hideous alien creature,
would you name it Wally?
Why do you want a hideous creature named after you?
Some day, I want to turn on the news and hear,
"Wally destroys a small town, National Guard helpless."
If it's a girl monster, name it Alice.
It's not a monster.
It's either an alien or a cow or a robot
or a hillbilly or an engineer.
Any one of those could destroy a town.
Not the cow.
If the cow was part alien, it could.
Well, maybe if it shot fire out of its nostrils.
Stop talking about my baby that way.
Please, leave me alone.
All right.
I have to go plan the off-site meeting anyway.
Um... actually, our pointy-haired boss
asked me to do it this year.
You're horning in on my turf?
Catfight.
My money's on the pink one.
We're not going to fight.
We're going to collaborate
and support each other like sisters
in this bastion of testosterone.
Yes, that's right.
We are.
Nice dress, Dilbert.
I love what you're doing with your hair, Alice.
Witch.
Tramp.
DILBERT: Are you telling me
the company has no maternity leave program?
Well, we believe that maternity benefits
encourage unwed fathers to get pregnant.
That is ridiculous!
Oh-ho-ho, is it?
People die of old age
so they can collect life insurance.
Explain that.
That's your argument?
That doesn't even make sense.
Hmm.
Mm-hmm.
I'd offer you some, but I'm selfish.
[LAUGHING]
No wonder you're loopy.
That stuff will rot your brain.
Oh...
You know, Dilbert, as much as I love
solving employee problems...
I like making this noise even better.
[LAUGHING WICKEDLY]
Wow, man!
That is some... thank you.
[LOOPY HUMMING]
So you're saying I'll receive no maternity benefits.
Mm-hm. Excuse me while I run back and forth for no reason.
[PANTING]
Aah!
I'll tell you what.
If you can squeeze out the little mutant
during your coffee break,
I won't dock your pay.
[LAUGHING]
I like my chances.
So, what's your story?
WOMAN: Listen up.
I need someone to play
an angry quadrasexual for a 2:00 taping.
You, report to Studio Triple-F.
Okay, I need cousins who plan to marry.
Studio C.
And lastly, huge men who look like women
and date tiny women who look like men
but are used as handbags.
That's all for today.
Uh, excuse me.
I'm having a baby.
The hospital's one street over.
No, I mean, it would be a good topic for a show.
People have babies all the time.
What's your hook?
I'm a man.
That's not enough. What else you got?
Uh... the baby might be an alien
or a robot or a cow or a hillbilly or an engineer.
Dime a dozen.
Do your friends think you dress too sexy?
Uh... no one has mentioned it.
If your mother steals your boyfriend, call me.
DILBERT: Can you help me publish
a book about my pregnancy?
I need the money.
Are you willing to wear a hidden microphone
and incriminate your friends?
My only friend is Dogbert.
Dogbert is your friend?
Why didn't you say so?
You know him?
We worked together
during the Watergate scandal
when his code name was Deep Throat.
Don't tell him I mentioned that.
About my book?
I'll help you, but first we need to stir the pot.
"Stir the pot"?
What you have is a little story.
We need to whip it into a big story.
How do we do that?
Follow me.
We'd like to see Mr. Big.
He doesn't take visitors.
We're friends of Dogbert.
Go right in.
MAN: How much NEWS CAN YOU AFFORD?
We want a standard seed story.
You get 10% of the back end.
Sounds fair.
What's a seed story?
I apologize for him.
He was raised in a hollow tree.
A seed story is one that will grow
into a media frenzy once it has been planted.
Then the media frenzy replaces the original story
and becomes the bigger story.
That's how we manufacture the news.
But my story is real.
I'm a pregnant man who doesn't know
who the genetic mother and father are.
That's news.
No, that's just a fascinating FACT.
It isn't news until we say it is.
Shall we stir the pot?
Now back to you-- insert name-- in the studio.
Clear.
We have a pregnant man, genetic parents unknown.
I want total saturation.
Let's do it up right.
Tonight on Primeline.
The case of the pregnant man.
Who are the real genetic parents?
Aliens? Hillbillies?
Robots? Cows or engineers?
Tonight, we take you to meet this curious man
in a story we call:
A Womb With A Stew.
And you've heard about this guy?
Well, he's sort of a guy
and he's reportedly a surrogate mother
for an alien-hillbilly, robot-engineer-cow baby.
What? Wow!
Michael Jackson already has an order in for three of them.
[LAUGHING]
Part cow, part engineer.
Do you think it'll spend a lot of nights
surfing the Internet and milking itself?
[LAUGHTER]
MAN: Hey, there he is.
Leave us alone. Leave us alone!
How's that?
Very convincing.
ANCHORMAN: Who is Dilbert,
and how will neighbors take to an alien in their midst?
Americans are asking...
What's going on?
Just have a seat.
And put this on.
ANCHORMAN: ...alien's daddy. Dilbert, can an alien baby...
But he's already asking the questions.
This is how it's done.
They'll get your side later.
This brings up the obvious question:
What are your feelings about the upcoming
landmark custody battle over your unborn?
Custody battle?
There's no custody battle.
There will be tomorrow.
Join us tomorrow on Primeline
when we begin gavel-to-gavel coverage
of the fetus custody battle of the century
in a story we call:
It's A Womb-derful Strife.
I'm already casting the miniseries in my head.
I don't know if you can hear me in there.
Studies have been inconclusive.
Unfortunately,
you're the only one I can talk to right now.
Don't take this the wrong way,
but I don't mind losing the custody battle.
I'm not exactly qualified to be a parent.
I'm more than happy to let you go
to a better home with real parents,
but if custody is awarded to the wrong people--
and there are plenty of those--
I'll protect you
with everything I've got, little guy.
If you agree, kick twice.
If you disagree, kick just once.
Ooh!
If you at home would like to vote
on who you would prefer
to be awarded custody of the mystery fetus,
call 900-555-1234.
Each call is $4.00.
Proceeds will be donated to someone,
but don't ask to see a receipt.
I hope this doesn't become undignified.
Please rise for the honorable...
[LIKE WWF ANNOUNCER] Judge "Stone Cold" Steve Austin!
[AUDIENCE WHOOPING AND CHEERING]
[CHEERING AND WHOOPING CONTINUE]
[YELLING]
Since when did Stone Cold become a judge?
Both sides waived their rights to an actual judge.
We did?
He's very big with the teen demographic.
We'll get pickup on all the networks.
What about justice?
It didn't do well with the focus groups.
Great.
Austin 3:16 says, "Order in the court."
Let's have opening arguments in the custody case
of "Dilbert versus the aliens, robots, cows, hillbillies,
a billionaire and 17 engineers."
Your Honor, my clients demand custody
of the baby in Dilbert's womb
or stomach or upper colon.
Wherever it is.
They believe they can give it
a more wholesome family life.
They want to raise the child together?
They make a very effective family unit.
For one thing,
he'll never want for milk,
and you've got your alien technology
for fighting diseases.
You've got your billionaire's resources,
your robots for domestic chores,
and your hillbillies for... for... uh...
If you've got a woodchucks problem,
we'll kill 'em and cook 'em.
Exactly, and 17 engineers to explain things,
no matter how much you insist you don't need to know.
If I may elaborate on that...
[GASPING AND GROANING]
You make a strong case,
so let's begin the character assassination.
Is it true you annihilated the planet of Nepular Five,
a world inhabited entirely by teddy bears?
[SPEAKING ALIEN TONGUE]
Sometimes, in a meeting,
Dilbert will pick up Asok, our intern,
and just shake the bejesus out of him.
So you admit that you chew cud.
[PLAINTIVE MOOING]
All I'm saying is
that when we collect money to buy someone a birthday card,
it always comes back lighter after Dilbert has the envelope.
I've heard enough.
I'm prepared to award custody to the freaks.
Wait. I haven't had a chance to speak on my own behalf.
We have two more minutes, Stone Cold.
You've got two minutes.
I'll put plan B into motion.
At first, I felt I was nothing more than luggage
for the fetus inside me,
but over time
I've developed feelings for this baby.
I didn't understand them at first,
but now I know
they are feelings of motherly love.
[LAUGHING]
Ow!
My only goal is to do what's best for this baby.
Maybe that means I don't raise it myself,
but I will never, ever turn my baby over to them.
[GASPING]
They don't care about this baby.
They each have their own selfish motives.
Whatever you decide, Judge Stone Cold,
please use your wisdom and compassion
in making your decision.
Thank you.
You want compassion, take your ass to church.
Custody is awarded to the freaks,
and that's the bottom line
because Stone Cold said so.
[ALL CHEERING]
No!
Never!
Aaaah!
Ooh.
Ah, oh, boy!
Ah, breathe, ah, ah, ah!
[GROANS]
[RHYTHMIC BREATHING]
[GRUNTS]
It's coming!
I'm nine months early!
[GROANING]
Are we there yet?
There it is.
I think my water's gonna break.
Oh!
There's a lot in there!
BOTH: We're ready.
[SPLASH]
DILBERT: Ooh!
[BURBLING]
Ah.
[SQUEAKS]
[SIRENS APPROACHING]
Hurry!
If this works, you'll be safe and loved.
[MOOS PLAINTIVELY]
Wait!
I'll give you a billion dollars for the baby.
That's billion with a B?
No!
Oh, my.
Where did you send it, Dilbert?
Think of it as a student exchange program, Mom.
Did it look like you?
In a lot of ways, it did.
MAN: Ever since we sent our only child away
when we thought our planet was to be destroyed,
we have been so lonely.
Who knew our planet would survive the cataclysm?
The weather reports are never accurate.
[ROCKET WHISTLING]
[CRASH]
Hmm.
I wonder if that's the package from Dogbert.