Secluded in
Bel -Air, somewhere in the
Bel -Air
Botanical
Gardens, is the palatial
estate of young singers
Jan and
Dean.
One day...
Holy banana peel,
Jan!
Someone's overturned our garbage cans! I
bet you it that little fink down the street,
Stevie
Guthrie!
No, no,
Freen.
Why, it could only be that sinister stinker,
that foul fiend of fragrance.
The
Milk
Man?
No, it's our arch -rival, that wretched refuse collector,
that rogue of rubbish.
The
Garbage
Man.
Quickly,
Jan and
Dean dash out in front and begin to inspect
the overturned garbage.
That ludicrous litterbug is struck again.
I wonder what he's up to this time,
Kreen.
Holy coffee grounds,
Ban.
Maybe there's a clue among
this refuse.
What about the...
Oh, prune seeds.
That's it.
How about corn on the cob?
Our arch rivals always leave clues,
Ban.
Where are they?
Then the boys begin to
search through the sea of rubbish.
Blech!
Blech!
Blech!
I can't take this any longer.
It's time to change.
It's the little old lady from
Pasadena.
Quickly, the boys are transformed into
Captain
Jan and
Dean, the boy blunder.
Look, boy blunder,
wrapped in this old piece of newspaper.
Yeah, it's an old piece of gazelta fish.
No help there.
Suddenly, the boys look up to see the garbage man
speed off in his garbage truck.
A small piece of garbage is seen to fall off
the back of the truck.
This is odd.
Here, boy
Blender, let's take it inside and analyze
it in our special super -duper analyzing machine.
Alright!
To the attic.
Who, me?
Captain
Jan's secret attic laboratory.
A piece of garbage is quickly analyzed.
Here's the answer,
Spleen.
Yeah, it's garbage.
Great gravy.
It says it comes from the city dump.
What could we do
without the analyzer?
Quickly,
Ding, to the atom -powered woody.
Who, me?
You blundering dolt!
We were in the attic!
Yeah?
I'll take the stairs,
and you meet me in a moment.
Where's the moment?
As the boys reach the city dump
and begin sniffing,
rather, snooping around,
they are scooped
up by that harlequin
of the heap's giant garbage scooper
and dumped into the garbage truck.
Help!
Help!
Help!
Oh, it's like it's suffering sour.
Your ears alert and your nose closed
for the exciting conclusion
on the other side of this record.