Flash light. Check!
Sleepin' bag.
Check!
Compass, waterproof toilet paper, fishin' poles, poison oak, TV and VCR.
Check.
Panties.
Check. Hey?
Just jokin'. Campin' stove?
Check.
A camping trip! Oh, boy!
Campin' food?
Check!
Check.
What?
Gorilla Scout Cow reporting for camping duty, Sir.
What are you talkin' about?
You can't camp! You're a girl.
Now, what do you mean, she can't camp 'cause she's a girl?
You know, I remember they said the same thing about me in my youth.
Except the 'girl' part.
Chicken?
Now, you be a good Big Brother
and let your enormous sister spend the night with you boys in the tree fort.
Oh, all right.
Thanks!
Come on, men!
Oh, the sleepy little baby.
Oh, goodnight, Crabs, Piles and Manure.
Sleep tight.
Geez!
What is that, Cow?
Oh, that is my dream catcher.
What is a dream catcher?
Well, it catches all my bad dreams
while I sleep so they will not frighten me.
Oh, that is stupid!
Only a girl would be afraid of her dreams!
Don't mess with it!
All my bad dreams are stuck in this dream-catching web!
Leave it alone and live!
Touch it and die the death of a thousand flies.
What are you doing?
Darn Cow! We will die a thousand fly deaths!
Oh, this is what I get campin' with a bunch of pastry chefs.
We are still alive!
We didn't die like flies!
Hey, guys! Who am |'.>
It catches my dreams so they don't frighten me!
I know! I know! You're being Cow!
Here! Catch!
Hey, gonna jump down, tum around, pick a bale of cotton, hey!
A trampoline!
You broke it!
See? That dream catcher stuff is a bunch of poo-poo.
Look at what Cow's dreamin'!
I smell milk!
Little boy milk and little chicken milk.
Oh, that was close!
We gotta wake up Cow to get rid of her Milkman dream
or he'll milk us to death!
Wake up, Cow!
Come on, Cow! Wake up!
Hey! Maybe this'|| work!
Yeah!
Cow's a notorious hard sleepers.
That Milkman guy's gonna milk us!
Rise and shine!
Wake up, Cow!
Chicken Milk.
Flem Milk.
Earl Milk.
Come on, Cow! Wake up!
Wake up!
No!
Oh, hey guys? Guys?
I had the most terrible dream!
You don't say?
Hey, kids? Isn't Oregon the most beautiful place?
Spain! Next exit!
Cool! Bull fights!
Oh, this is bad!
It ain't as bad as the sewers of Paris back at the France exit.
You don't need pant for the victory dance,
'cause Batman's better than Weasel.
LR. Baboon's a big star cartoon.
I. M. Weasel!
LR. Baboon reigns king of his mine,
he's just a baboon with a wiggle behind.
But round every corner he's likely to find...
I. M. Weasel!
I suppose I should revive this monkey.
I must remember my seaman's training.
Wake up!
No need to thank me for saving your life, Sir.
I Am Weasel!
Where are we being?
We appear to be stranded on a desert island.
LR. Stranded?
Lookie. |.R. skin and bones already.
LR. Stanfing. LR. Starve to death'.!
Unless-in...
Mr. Baboon, whatever you're thinking...
Being too hairy.
Look around you, Chuckle-head.
I was wrong. This isn't a desert island.
It's a dessert island.
One of nature's rarest and most beautiful creations.
So you see, it would be quite impossible to starve here.
Sugar!
Yes!
You know, too many sweets can make you fat.
Shutting mouth hole, rodent!
Very well.
I shall leave you to your debauchery.
Guess I'll setup the 8.0.8. all by myself.
Jawbreaker.
Helping me!
Baboon's in trouble!
Fear not, Baboon! I'm coming!
Caramel!
Their Chief is trying to communicate.
I seem to have deciphered their language.
Amazing, Baboon!
These Gingerbread Men aren't savages at all!
They are intelligent,
noble cookies with a poetic oral tradition.
Thank you, Chief, for allowing us to join your tribe.
I can think of no greater honor.
Masher!
Good morning, Chief!
Chief, being part of your tribe is the best thing that ever happened to me.
Just think of what others could learn
from the rich tapestry that is your culture.
Someday, Chief, my 8.0.8. will be discovered.
Then, my friend,
I want to share your civilization with the world!
What do you say, Old Man?
Chief? Chief?
Great grandma's gear shift! It's all gone!
Impossible!
Who could have... Baboon!
Baboon!
You ate the entire Gingerbread Tribe!
You savage!
You fat blob!
You gobbled up everything!
What do you have to say for yourself?
It good.
Very well. You know, Baboon?
Maybe the Gingerbread culture was meant to be wiped out.
Call it destiny...
woman's intuition; whatever you will.
Perhaps in the big picture, it all makes sense.
Now, hurry up and wolf down your dessert, Hammy.