Learn Language through the song - | English exercises

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["GOOF TROOP THEME" PLAYING]

Hit it

Like father, like son

They're always number one

Best buddies, best pals

Yeah

You always seem to work things out

Can't you see you're two of a kind

looking for a real good time

Real good time.

Report to the Goof Troop

And we'll always stick together

We're the Goof Troop

Best of friends forever

Side by side wherever we go

We're always ready to roll

Now give me a beat

We're the Goof Troop

And we always stick together

We're the Goof Troop

Best of friends forever

Now we're calling everyone

Come on and join the fun

Report to the Goof Troop

Yeah

PJ: OK.

Earth, Venus, Pluto, Mars.

Round and round, the sun and stars.

MAX: Mars falls out of orbit.

Take 11.

Peej, this is totally tweaked.

I thought you said this science project was going to be fun.

This is fun!

See?

Puh-lease!

Just looking at it makes my eyes yawn.

Come on.

It's not that bad, really.

Yes, it is.

Really.

Look, bro, if you want to ace this project,

you need something pizazzier than a bent coat hanger.

Well, like what?

Think creative.

Visual.

Cosmic.

Think comets, quasars, novas, supernovas, Chevy Novas.

Hey, yeah.

You need something now.

And wow.

A video!

Wow!

Just like in the movies.

Hey, wait a minute.

Don't movies take a lot of time?

And work?

Trust me, space cadet.

[WHIMSICAL TUNE]

INSTRUCTOR: Oh, come, come, come, Mr. Goof.

You must push, push, push yourself.

Think creative, visual.

Okey-doke.

Shh.

No, no, no, no, no.

Remember, remember mimes do not talk.

Good, good, good!

Now, let us practice the mime card, shall we?

Ready?

Scissors.

Tree.

Chicken.

Duck.

Oh, interesting.

Congratulations, Mr. Goof.

You have just passed the Alpha Humanity

School of Street Theater.

Really?

Gawrsh!

Wait till I tell Max.

Now, get yourself a flashy costume.

Then go out there and dazzle them.

Dazzle?

Yes, sir.

Don't ever speak while performing.

Nuh-uh.

Keep an eye out for talent agents.

You betcha.

And remember, reach for the stars!

Okey-dokey!

[SHOUTING]

Yes.

I have trained another genius.

PJ: What about costumes, Max?

I mean, come on.

We can't invade Earth in blue jeans.

I'll think of something.

I always do.

Ta-da!

What do you think?

Dad's taking a pantomime class.

What's he wearing?

Tin foil.

Dazzling, huh?

Guess what I am.

Gawrsh.

Hey, Max.

I'm heading downtown to perform my act.

You want to come along?

Oh!

Oh, I'd love to, Dad, but I gotta help

Peej here with his homework.

Oh.

Oh, OK.

Well, gotta go reach for the stars.

Oops.

Can't talk anymore starting right now.

Sheesh.

Thanks, Dad.

Come on, Peej.

Wait, man.

This is getting kind of fun.

Later, Mr. G!

Oh, found it!

Nuts.

I forgot this needs a VCR, and ours is broken.

Well, that's that.

I know!

We'll use your dad's.

Hey, man, we touch my dad's stuff, boom!

He'll plaster us.

[MURMURING]

PEG: Oh, Pudgy-poo!

Over here, Snookums!

Oh, my.

It looks wonderful.

Is it that pottery kiln you promised me?

No, it's a barbecue This baby will roast an ostrich.

Oh, well, then I better get some food ready.

Oh, here.

Try this.

Thanks, Pookie.

You like it?

Yes.

What is this stuff?

Tasmanian tar roast coffee.

It was on sale, so I bought 50 pounds.

Yuck!

Hmm, maybe I could use it for charcoal lighter.

Morning, son.

Whoa.

Stop.

Timeout.

Hold it right there.

Oh, Dad.

I need to borrow the VCR for my science project.

And what happened to the ping pong balls I gave you?

Well, I'm m-making a science fiction video instead.

Well, forget it.

But why, Dad?

I mean, you--

You see, son, a man's home is his castle.

So that makes me king.

King of the house, the boat, the barbecue, the bowling trophies.

And especially the VCR.

So that royal stuff is off-limits to peasants

and such like yourself.

You understand?

Sort of.

Good.

Put it back.

Well, looks like we're just going to have

to build that model after all.

No way.

Your dad said we couldn't move the VCR,

but he didn't say we couldn't plug into it.

Huh?

MAX: Pipe wrench. PJ: Check.

MAX: Hammer.

PJ: Check.

MAX: Saw.

PJ: Bingo.

MAX: Screwdriver.

PJ: You got it.

Are you sure you hooked it up right?

Yep.

Piece of cake.

Most folks are techno wimps compared to me.

Now, all we gotta do is load her up here

and start filming back there.

[MISCHIEVOUS TUNE]

Shouldn't have bought that cheap cement.

Now, where am I going to find an audience?

There's someone.

I think.

I'll try my chicken impression.

MAX: Man, every so often, Dad actually

comes up with a good idea.

I told you he looked like an alien.

OK.

Now talk weird and make lots of threats.

Ready?

Action!

Attention, earthlings.

We are tin foiliens from planet Luminum.

Yeah.

Luminum.

MAX: I repeat, we are tin foiliens from planet Luminum.

That is three zillion light years from your miserable

little planet.

I am Maxell TDK, and this is--

PJ: Uh, C-3PJ.

MAX: Our mission?

Quite simple.

To take over Earth!

PJ: Yeah.

And shut down all your schools.

That is right.

We demand to speak to your leaders immediately.

Yes, sir.

We're getting a signal from somewhere in outer space, sir.

A scout has been sent to communicate our demands.

Please cooperate or we'll dust you.

Sir, he's got a weapon.

Well, it looks like some kind of sub-vacuous plutonic extricator,

sir.

(OVER PHONE) [GIBBERISH] a lot of panic here.

Panic indeed, sir.

Let's just hope the public doesn't see this.

That is right, Earth-noids.

Our scout has super alien powers.

He can disintegrate a building with the wave of his hand.

Hey, a whole crowd!

Did you hear that?

Find your own window.

Ah!

Oh, boy.

A captive audience.

Shucks.

They're already amazed.

I haven't even started.

What is he doing?

Careful!

I think he's building a force field.

Gawrsh.

Must be talent agents.

I wonder if they like my getup.

Don't let him get away.

Get him.

GOOFY: Well, now, folks.

Come on.

I'll still do free shows after I'm famous.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

Gawrsh.

Now I know how Elvis felt.

No autographs, please.

Gawrsh, I must be in a TV studio.

Hey, this might be my big shot at stardom.

Oh, better practice for my audition.

Amazing.

Why, he has the ability to actually lean

against invisible gamma rays.

Observe, earthlings.

C-3PJ is calculating our attack.

We plan to steal all your planes and food and national monuments.

PJ: And cordless shavers and pogo sticks and toothpaste.

Oh, baby.

I ain't nothing but the Rembrandt of rotisseries.

PISTOL: Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!

Daddy, Daddy!

Aliens have invaded Spoonerville.

You interrupted my art alliterations for a cheap joke?

But it's true, Daddy.

Cosmic invaders bent on planetary annihilation

are out at this very instant.

See.

Now, you got her doing it.

Oh, shut your yap and open your eyes.

Whoa!

But [INAUDIBLE].

But Muffin Cakes.

MAX: We are not joking, Earthlings.

Observe.

This used to be Calamityville.

And we liked Calamityville.

You're next.

That broadcast just seen moments ago.

Now, please, folks, remember.

Do not panic.

Just run for your lives!

Told you so.

Ma-ma-ma-martian?

Now, Honey, you've got to hurry and pack your things,

because we have to leave right away.

No!

We stay.

Why, I worked hard for this stuff.

And no drool-dripping moon man is going

to lay a tentacle on it, see?

We're going to fight back.

He knows what a typewriter is.

Sirs, we've tracked down the alien signal.

It's not coming from space.

It's being sent from right here on Earth.

Aliens have landed in Spoonerville.

PEG: Peanut Brittle, are you sure

we shouldn't just leave town?

A man's house is his castle.

So I'm digging a moat.

No galactic goon is going to come

along and wreck my royal stuff.

Petey, what exactly are you doing?

Well, I'm--

I'm building a blockade.

It's them.

Peg, get in the house and block all the windows.

Oh, dear.

Now, I'll never get that freezer defrosted.

Looks like everyone's disappeared.

Wait.

What's that?

PETE: You'll never grill on this Earth man's

barbecue, you cosmic creepos.

Guy's lost his marbles.

Fear, probably.

The moat!

Gotta fill the moat.

Empty.

Tasmanian tar roast.

Let's see them bug-eyed, pointy heads get past this.

Now what's he doing?

[MUSIC PLAYING]

What's That

A smoke signal.

This is flying duck to home boy.

We found the alien landing site.

Send all units.

Surrender now, Earthlings.

Resistance is useless.

So is that an A+ project or what?

Oh, yeah.

I like the part about turning Lincoln's

Memorial into a video arcade.

Come on!

Let's go watch the tape.

Whoa.

What happened to my house?

Since the alien broadcast began this afternoon,

NASA has been able to capture this Martian scout.

And authorities now believe other aliens have landed here

and are holding this family captive.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

Take this, Mr. Spy.

Max, what have we done?

Shh.

Look, there's only one way to clear up this mess.

- Fess up? - No.

Cover up.

First, we gotta save Dad.

PJ: You sure they got your dad in here?

NASA headquarters, right?

Now hustle your buns.

This looks bad.

It is bad, gentlemen.

And just who are you?

Greetings, colleagues.

I am Doctor Maximilian.

And this is Professor Petesfield We're

from the federated league of--

Intergalactic body language.

MAX: Yes!

Thank you, Professor.

PJ: My pleasure.

Wait.

I've never heard of the fed--

MAX: Oh, no.

Professor, do you see that?

This is terrible.

What is it?

He says he's cutting out of here.

Oh.

Why would he do that?

PJ: Cause he's not feeling well.

We thought so.

What's wrong?

Quite simply, he's got the cosmic chicken pox.

Is that dangerous?

Well, first, your teeth all change position.

And then your ear wax melts.

This is followed by house-a-tosis,

bloated liver and onions, and male-pattern baldness.

And worst of all, it's very contagious.

Contagious?

Every man for himself.

Run, run.

Come on, Dad, let's vacate.

We gotta get out of here right now.

But everyone's gone.

See?

Gawrsh.

What happened?

I was doing so well.

What are you talking about, Dad?

Well, TV tryouts.

But this isn't a TV studio.

I wanted to make you proud of me.

But I am, Dad.

I thought you were great.

No, I was terrible.

Now I'll never get on TV.

Oh, yes you will.

GOOFY: Gawrsh.

What's going on at Pete's house?

MAX: They're filming a science fiction show.

And they want you in it.

GOOFY: Really?

MAX: Yeah.

The talent agents told us about it.

They did?

Shh!

Now, put your helmet on, Dad, and I'll fill you in.

Okey-dokey.

First, you got to make a grand entrance.

Pete here will help you.

Eat hot phosphorus, you Malusian marmets.

Death rays, death rays!

Quick, mommy.

Those disreputable martians are trying to get in.

Fire!

I think we goofed.

Wake up, Sugar Socks.

Those aliens must have got you?

Can we stay for the cartoons, Mama?

Oh.

Say Pistol Pumpkin, how about a nice glass of water for daddy?

No, thanks.

I'm not thirsty.

(OVER MEGAPHONE) We come in peace.

We want to talk to you.

Never!

You Purple People Eaters.

Let him have it, Jelly Jar.

Fire!

You want my bullet trophies?

Well, come and get em, you solar sissies.

This is Danielle Rathmaker signing off.

[MUSIC PLAYING]

Excuse me.

I have an announcement to make.

The alien has escaped.

Look!

He's gone?

Where'd he go?

There's one on my roof.

Allow me to interpret for him.

The Martian says the walls of mankind are closing in on him.

So he's decided to return to the windy plains of Mars.

And he's not going to destroy Earth after all.

He's leaving now.

Farewell.

Adios, muchachos.

It's working, Peej.

It's working. Yikes!

It's not working.

Oh, no you don't.

You don't wreck my house and get off scot-free.

GOOFY: Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

Woo!

Look, the aliens have left for good.

See, Peej.

Nothing to it.

Hey, where are you going?

I'm going to look for those ping pong balls and start over.

Gawrsh.

By the time I woke up, the TV crew had gone.

That's OK, Dad.

I think we're too good for television anyway.

I was thinking the same thing, Max.

That's why I dug up this here brochure on Hopi Indian dancing.

Now, classes start Monday.

You and I could work up a great routine

and take it on the road or something like that there.

Sheesh.

Look what them slime-dripping, flat-footed

Martians did to my barbecue.

Boy, if I had em here, I'd make them

sorry they were ever hatched.

It's a good thing you're a million light years away,

you foil-covered morons.

Alien eggs!

So that's how you make mashed potatoes.

["THE GOOF TROOP" THEME]

Give me a beat

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