COOKIE MONSTER: Dis Supernatural Street. It have tendency for many strange things to happen. Dis why me prefer always settle in with luscious, freshly bake butterscotch chip cookie and classic law text.
(Enter Ernie, in a battered leather jacket and his striped sweater)
COOKIE: Oh look. It me estrange brother, Ernie.
ERNIE: Hi, Cookie Monster!
COOKIE: Hello, Ernie.
ERNIE: Cookie Monster, I'm afraid I have some bad news.
COOKIE: Bad news about cookie?
ERNIE: No, it's my old buddy-- I mean, it's our father, Bert. He hasn't been home in a few days.
COOKIE: Oh. No problem. Bert probably just drink a little too much grape juice at the pigeon convention and no want to drive home. No need worry, Ernie. Now if you not mind, me return studying law.
ERNIE: Ahem. Our father went shopping for frosted sugar cookies, and he hasn't been home in a few days.
COOKIE: Dat totally different. But how we travel about, seeking dear ol' Dad?
ERNIE: Oh, that's easy. I sold Bert's bottle cap collection and bought this nineteen sixty-seven Chevrolet Impala.
COOKIE: Sweet ride.
(Cookie Monster and Ernie settle into the nineteen sixty-seven Chevrolet Impala.)
COOKIE: First thing, before we go anywhere, me look to see if dis vintage model vehicle have seat belts.
ERNIE: Oh, you bet it does, Cookie Monster. The first thing to keep in mind when on a hunt for your missing father is safety, isn't it, Cookie Monster?
COOKIE: Dat right, Ernie. Safety and cookies.
(Ernie and Cookie Monster click their seatbelts on)
ERNIE: Come on, Cookie Monster, let's go find Bert!
ERNIE: The first place to stop is at Bob's, to get some supplies.
COOKIE: Me running short on cookies.
BOB: Come on in, guys. I heard Bert's missing. Is there anything I can do to help?
COOKIE: Me can always use cookie.
BOB: I'm sorry Cookie Monster, I don't have any cookies. I have a whole lot of sheet music. And this shotgun.
ERNIE: It's a good thing I've had my gun safety classes. I knew they'd come in handy one day.
BOB: That's right. And, Ernie, the kids should be reminded that you never handle a gun without an adult's permission.
ERNIE: (facing camera) Got that, kids? (laughs)
COOKIE: But you give Ernie permission. Then we go get cookie. I mean Bert.
BOB: Ernie has my permission to use the shotgun. Also, I have a little bit of information for the two of you. Listen closely, Ernie and Cookie Monster.
(Cookie Monster leans at a heavy sideways angle in toward Bob, googling eyes in concentration)
BOB: I've heard a rumor about lots and lots of thunder and lightning going on around Azazel's Bakery and Cake Decorating shop.
ERNIE: Wow. A rumor. That's when you hear people say something but you haven't seen it for yourself, and you're not sure it's true.
BOB: That's right, Ernie. It's just a rumor. But I have some pretty good sources.
COOKIE: Bakery place where they sell cookies. Me vote go there.
ERNIE: But we have to find Bert.
BOB: Ernie... Didn't you say that the last you knew, Bert was going to shop for frosted sugar cookies? Do you know what bakery he went to?
COOKIE: Ernie, listen to clues. Thunder and lightning indicate supernatural influence we should check out.
ERNIE: You're right, Cookie. (cocks shotgun) Let's go.
(The Furry Arms Hotel)
COOKIE: Me exhausted from travel on road. Me open suitcase and see what inside. Cookie Magazine... Shorts... Make me think of shortbread... Mmmm... No cookies! Oh well, me eat photograph of cookie from magazine. Omfnarmnomf.
ERNIE: (Removing Rubber Duckie from suitcase) I'm gonna take a bath, Cookie Monster.
COOKIE: Good idea. Me get some sleep. (Falls asleep)
(Foggy edges of the picture indicate Cookie Monster is dreaming)
YOUNG COOKIE: Mmm, Mommy, dose cookie smell so good! What kind are dey?
MOMMY: Oatmeal raisin chip, Son. Your favorite.
YOUNG COOKIE: Oh, me favorite, oatmeal raisin chip! Oh goodie, oh cookie cookie cookie.
MOMMY: They have just a minute until they are done. I'd better watch them very closely.
(Enter Azazel, an Anything Person with light brown hair and wild, yellow-orange plastic rhinestone eyes. He wears a red and white straw hat and spats and carries a cane.)
MOMMY: That's odd. We seem to have a Yellow-Eyed Muppet performing vaudeville in our kitchen, Son.
COOKIE: Mommy, no watch Yellow-Eyed Muppet! Watch cookie! Me smell something burning-- noooo!
(Dream close-up on Young Cookie Monster, staring in open-mouthed dismay)
COOKIE: (Out loud, in sleep, fretful) Ahh, oh no! No, me cookie, entire batch, no!
ERNIE: (holding a towel and Rubber Duckie) Wake up, Cookie Monster!
COOKIE: Oh, where me am? Oh Ernie, it so awful. Me have dream again.
ERNIE: Calm down, calm down. Don't worry, Cookie Monster. We'll find Bert and--
COOKIE: Me not care about Bert! Me care only about oatmeal raisin chip! Oh Ernie, me close to hysterical.
ERNIE: I think the best thing to do in these situations is to have a brotherly moment.
COOKIE: (Taking Ernie by the lapel) Me no want to hear about brotherly moment! Me only want oatmeal raisin chip again!
ERNIE: Cookie, Cookie! The oatmeal raisin chip cookies are gone, and they're never coming back. All we can do now is find Bert.
COOKIE: You right, Ernie. Me sorry. Me do research on Azazel Bakery and Cake Decorating and Cookie.
ERNIE: That's the idea, Cookie. You're the best researcher I know, when you don't eat the computer.
COOKIE: Look, Ernie, Ernie, look! Me find picture. Azazel is same as Yellow-Eyed Muppet! He own bakery where Bert went to buy cookie, and where all storms are happening! Just thinking of Yellow-Eyed Muppet make me so angry me could get physically violent. Me drive all night to bakery and take revenge for oatmeal raisin chip.
(Animated, rough hand-drawn lineart in black on white background. Scant details. Every S word is briefly animated across the screen throughout, with a bold letter S at the beginning of each.)
MALE NARRATOR: This is Sam.
SAM: Hi. I'm Sam.
NARRATOR: Sam starts with S.
(Rough lineart Sam holds up his rough lineart shotgun.)
NARRATOR: Sam has a shotgun. Shotgun starts with S. Look sharp, Sam! Something's slinking onscreen!
(The white background is being increasingly obscured by uneven fingers of ink black. The blackening section of the screen is marked with two red, slanted eyes floating in the murk. The word "SIGH" appears printed beside Sam's head.)
SAM: It's an evil spirit.
NARRATOR: Spirit starts with S.
SPIRIT: Surrender, Sam. Spooky spirits have you surrounded.
SAM: Shove off.
NARRATOR: Surrender, surrounded, spooky and shove start with S.
SPIRIT: I make your soul scream, Sam.
NARRATOR: Sam is scared.
(Tiny animated words: "shiver" "shiver" appear near Sam's shoulder.)
SAM: Only slightly.
NARRATOR: Sam has some salt.
(Sam holds up a rough lineart bag labeled SALT, with which he loads the shotgun.)
NARRATOR: Salt stops spirits.
SAM: Salt stops spirits.
NARRATOR: Sam will shoot the spirit with the salt in the shotgun.
SAM: Pretty much. Seeya later, spirit.
SAM: And stay out.
NARRATOR: Sweet, Sam! You saved the day.
SAM: Thanks to the letter S.
(Azazel's Bakery and Cake Decorating. Bert is standing at the bakery counter, dressed in a black leather jacket, with a rifle on his arm. Enter Cookie Monster and Ernie.)
BERT: Ernie! Cookie Monster! Sons! You never should have come here, Ernie.
ERNIE: Why ever not, Bert?
BERT: I've been trying to buy some frosted sugar cookies, but it's taking days. The Count is decorating the cookies, and he won't stop counting every individual sparkly sprinkle in every color of the rainbow. We could be here until next Oatmeal Summit time comes around. I bet my pigeons miss me something fierce. I hope you remembered to polish my paperclip collection, Ernie. This is so frustrating.
ERNIE: Bert, that's great. I think you managed to work in a reference to just about every one of your interests. And don't worry, Big Bird is feeding your pigeons. Did I call you Bert? I mean Dad.
BERT: Yeah, yeah. I'm your dad. And I suppose I drive a seriously cherried out pickup truck.
ERNIE: Nah, your truck is basically a piece of junk, Dad.
COUNT (In kitchen, wearing white chef's hat, apron, a monocle and a shiny black cape) Eight thousand three hundred and sixty-nine individual green sparkly sprinkles! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!
(Thunder crashes, lightning strikes)
COOKIE: Oh no, now how we ever get cookies? Me normally gentle type guy, but dis make me start to simmer.
ERNIE: How will we get our father out of this mess? Don't worry, Bert, we'll think of something.
BERT: Well, you'd better.
COOKIE: Me say we behead the Count.
ERNIE: (Gasp!) What? Behead the Count, Cookie Monster?
COOKIE: It only way to be sure. Only way to kill a Count. And get cookie.
ERNIE: But Cookie Monster, the Count is our friend! We'd never see him again.
COOKIE: Dat true. Then again, me maybe never see cookie again either! Be voice of reason for your little brother, here, Ernie.
BERT: I'm just about desperate enough to do the beheading thing, Ernie.
ERNIE: I don't know what to do! Suddenly I'm having so much conflict over this job!
COOKIE: Ernie, Ernie, no have conflict. Me need you here keep me safe and feed me cookie.
ERNIE: I'll keep you safe, Cookie.
COUNT: AHAHAHA HA! MUHAHA! *cough* AHA! Sixty-eight billion and nine violet individual sparkly sprinkles! One! One orange individual sparkly sprinkle! HAHAHAHA.
(Thunder, lightning, and more thunder)
AZAZEL: Cookie Monster, it's good to see you again.
COOKIE: You ruin me cookies! Ruined me entire childhood.
ERNIE: You hired the Count to work on the cookies and hold Bert here for days at a time. What do you want?
AZAZEL: Cookie Monster has the power to eat much more than cookies.
ERNIE: That's true.
COOKIE: But all me want to eat is cookies. Me no want eat inappropriate things. If dat start to happen, Ernie, promise you kill me.
ERNIE: Don't say such things. Cookie Monster, you and me are brothers.
COOKIE: Me remember Bert twelfth media center fondly.
BERT: (pained sound) So do I.
COOKIE: Remind me of lemon butter cookies.
BERT: Reminds me of a lot of lost episodes of Battlestar Galactica.
COOKIE: Also tasty checkered red valances. Also roadhouse, also mausoleum. Also whole lot of candy canes around Christmas time. But no. Me never lose control like dat again. Oh please, Ernie. Please spare me moral decay. Kill me if me eat radio.
ERNIE: Cookie Monster! I will never, ever kill you. I can always win gently used home appliances and car parts in my regular poker game with Oscar and Luis.
AZAZEL: If I control the cookies, I control Cookie Monster.
COOKIE: Nobody control Cookie, Fool. OWM NOWM NOWM NOWM AAAHWM NOWM NOM NOM NOM NUHM.
AZAZEL: He just ate the body I was possessing. That's really annoying.
COOKIE: Ahm nowm nom nom om nom. (licks furry fingers) Taste like brimstone. With touch of nutmeg.
AZAZEL: I'm going to have to briefly rethink this.
BERT: He ate all the couch cushions last time he slept over, too. I thought we'd never get him shipped off to law school.
AZAZEL: Ah, then it is begun. All is according to my plan.
COUNT: (From kitchen, hoarsely) AHAH *cough* AH-- Ha. Two thousand eight hundred nineteen, one half, and one candy coating crumb of tiny circular cinnamon flavored red hots. All of those fall into the red category.
(Lightning, distant thunder)
BERT: Guys... Ernie... about the Count? The cookies I've gotten really tired of standing here waiting for?
COOKIE: Me have suggestion. Me suggest we steak him.
ERNIE: Steak him? Why, that's a great idea, Cookie Monster!
(Ernie scoots offscreen, returns in a split second with a plate of steak)
ERNIE: Interesting fact about steak, Cookie Monster.
COOKIE: What dat, Ernie? Tell me.
ERNIE: Little known fact.
COOKIE: Oh yah?
ERNIE: It starts with the letter S. Steak starts with S.
COOKIE: Dat really interesting, Ernie.
ERNIE: S is one of my favorite letters of the alphabet. Especially capital S.
COOKIE: Me bet it is.
ERNIE: I love a nice, big, curvy letter of the alphabet.
COOKIE: Perhaps you enjoy some time alone with capital S, Ernie.
ERNIE: Maybe later. Right now we've got to stop the Count!
COUNT: Ernie, you are a clevwer advwersary. Thank you for the steak. It has completely removed my desire-- temporarily-- to count anything out loud, as I will have to chew it to enjoy it.
AZAZEL: Count, don't! No..! But I must keep cookies out of the hands of the Winchester family!
BERT: Who-- what? Who are the Winchesters?
ERNIE: That's us, Dad, remember?
BERT: Oh yeah, right. (To Azazel) I'll take a dozen cookies, please.
COOKIE: (Googling eyes, patting bakery counter with a paw) Oh yah yah yah yah cookies cookies cookies.
(Azazel, disembodied and cloudy, represented by a lot of frowning, airbrushed charcoal colored foam, rings up a dozen cookies on the cash register)
AZAZEL: I'll see you again, Cookie Monster Winchester.
COUNT: Ah, this is delicious, delectable! Savwory steak. Wonderful steak!
ERNIE: Quick, while he's eating the steak! Get into the Impala!
(Ernie, Cookie Monster, and Bert get into the nineteen sixty-seven Chevrolet Impala. Ernie turns on the radio and drives away from Azazel's Bakery and Cake Decorating.)
COOKIE: Me have seat belt on. Safety first. Cookie second.
ALICE COOPER'S VOICE: (On the radio) This hour of super rock songs was brought to you by the letter S. And now a second snazzy set of classic rock, sponsored by S!
(Radio plays ZZ Top's "Francine")
BERT: Well, here we are, safe at home with a dozen cookies, and the only part of the Impala Cookie ate on the way here was one headlight. I gotta say, Ernie, you're getting better at this kind of work.
ERNIE: Thanks, Dad. (slapping Bert on the shoulder) I learned it all from you. (laughs)
BERT: Yeah, well.
ERNIE: You know, we argue sometimes, but I love you, Cookie Monster.
COOKIE: Me love you too, Ernie. Especially when you give cookie.
ERNIE: Aw, that's nice. Isn't that nice, Dad? What a great ending.
BERT: Sure, nice. I think it would be polite to ask Cookie Monster to spend the night, Ernie. Just hide the couch cushions first.
COOKIE: How about have three-way? Nice way wrap up fiction.
ERNIE: That sounds good, Cookie Monster. But we only have two single beds.
COOKIE: Me can work with that.
BERT: Ernie, have you seen my bottle cap collection?