Thanks for seeing me off, everyone!
Hot Dog King: Present the hero with his ship!
PF: Oh, my Kerchief Dirigible, is it really you? The sweet contours of your basket – I HAVE MISSED YOU LIKE WHOA!
Hilda: Hi, Fliggins.
PF: Hilda! I have whoa-missed you too!
Hilda: So, before you fly away, please tell us how you stopped the Hairstorm.
PF: Well, I knew that the only way to save the Bean Village from the worst Hairstorm ever was to have the Royal Moustachio Air Force assemble those poor oppressed Beards and have them construct the Hair Nets with lightning speed!
Whiskerton: We can sew!
PF: There you go. And luckily the Three Bean Teens were nearby so they could lend the Beards some sugar packets, giving them the added burst of energy to sew like the wind!
Bonzo: …which we acquired legally.
Sid: Word, kid! We be exonerated!
PF: Truly! Then the Moustachios flew the Beards and Nets in front of the Hairstorm just in time to catch it!
Prime Ministache: …and now we can boost the Territory’s economy by giving the Beards jobs cleaning up our environment of atmospheric hair shavings and helping bring our two societies a little closer together.
PF: Yes, government jobs to help clean the various messes you have made.
Whiskerton: Thanks, Fred – you really helped out my people. And now they don’t wanna murderlize me anymore!
Face-Fist: It’s true! I can feel my heart losin’ its bitter edge!
Hilda: Wow, Fliggins. I’m really impressed.
PF: Shucks. So much shucks.
Miss Bean Village: My Hero!
Mayor of Bean Village: Our Hero, sweetheart. Mutant, as promised, for ending the terrible Hairstorms, we have filled your Airship with our Land’s finest Bean Gas.
Hot Dog King: That smells horrible! And hey, you never found my Crown!
PF: Yes, well, your highness, I did not.
Hot Dog King: HORRIBLE! Sausage Cadet, re-damage his Airship basket!
Sausage Cadet: You got it, boss!
PF: Wait! King, I have made you a new BETTER Crown – it is a toothless Moustache comb I Discovered many Days ago, bent into a circle, and tied together with some of Whiskerton’s extra trimmings.
Hot Dog King: It’s not the same, but it’ll work, I’m tired. Sausage Cadet, un-re-damage his basket!
Sausage Cadet: I already did?
Prime Ministache: Very good, everyone. I look forward to increased relations and sanity between our three lands. Fliggins, the RMAF will help you lift off now and take you away, but where are you going?
PF: I think I would like to go home to Professor Island. I have had a WONDERFUL time Discovering this amazing new world both outside my home and inside my soul, but I believe it is time to return to the land I left so many days ago now.
Prime Ministache: Which way is that?
PF: I do not know, but I will not find it sitting still! Nothing ever has been found that way.
Prime Ministache: Bully! Then I will allow Moustachia to accompany you – she thinks your face is her Mama anyway, and her natural aviation skill may aide in your search for your home.
Baby ‘Stache: Hooway!
PF: Oh wonderful! Let us start our stinky ascent then, shall we?
Prime Ministache: The boys will take care of you. Be safe, new friend!
PF: Thank you all! The skies are tugging me away now! Thank you!
Miss Bean Village: Farewell, Heroic Stud! Tee hee!
Face-Fist: Thanks for the job, ya dandy deformed Moustachio Spy!
Officer Beanchowski: Keep your nose clean, Scumbag!
Hot Dog King: So long, pasty Pastry!
Mayor of Bean Village: Good luck, Mutant!
Prime Ministache: Cheerio, Professor!
Sausage Cadet: Smell ya later, Loopy Larry!
Three Bean Teens: Peas out, P. Flig!
Whiskerton: Y’all come back now, Fred!
Hilda: Goodbye, Fliggins!
Blobby: Hey, say “goodbye,” PF.
PF: Goodbye, friends! Goodbye! *sniff*
Baby ‘Stache: Don’t cwy, Mama.
PF: Sorry, Moustachia – it is what I do whenever all the people I know grow smaller and smaller in the distance below from where I just was, where I was. Goodbye, everybody!!! Goodbye!!!