Out There (2013) s01e09 Episode Script
Viking Days
[ title music .]
"Viking Days" [ firecracker pops .]
Chad: Munich has Oktoberfest.
Rio has Carnival.
Holford has [fanfare plays.]
Viking Days.
It's a pretty big deal around here, celebrating the founding of Holford, originally Holfrund, by Norwegian settlers.
Legend dictates the town ancestors [bears growling.]
were saved from an attack of bloodthirsty bears by a strong, brave and blond father and son duo.
The warriors celebrated their victory by cutting out the beast's heart, and declaring the land beneath their feet as their own.
There's a Taco Steve's there now.
The celebration culminates in the most popular event at the festival the Father-Son Hexathalon a competition of cunning and brawn.
My dad and I usually go to the garden store that day because there's no line.
'Sup, Chad.
You stoked for Viking Days? I'm super stoked.
I heard some experimental artist from Omaha is gonna make a diorama of the bear battle out of butter, honey and human hair.
That does sound cool.
Are you and your dad doing the Hexathalon? Of course! Dad and I love that stuff.
Hunting, fishing we even built a car engine from scratch.
You do that kind of stuff with your dad? Yeah, totally.
Don't you? Come on, champ.
Let's locomote.
[grunts.]
[chuckles.]
[laughs.]
Need a hand, clumso? [chuckles.]
Or a foot? [chuckling.]
Aw Dad I'm so glad you're my dad.
Hmm.
Chad Stevens? Chad: This is the closest I ever got to my dad.
Fathers and sons hung out, talked, shared interests.
Were we doing this right? Uh, hey, Dad? Have you ever thought about that - father-son race at Viking Days? - The Hexathalon? Yeah.
I don't know, you know, if you're interested, we could [chuckles.]
Come on, Chad.
We're not running people.
We're sitting people.
That outdoorsy crap's not really our thing.
Well, son, everything looks tip-top.
See Barbara at the front on your way out.
[shouting, shoes squeaking on floor.]
[clears throat.]
[growls.]
Yeah, get him.
Kudos on the checkup, man.
I mean, sure, my glasses give character and depth, but there's no substitution for a working pair of peepers.
[boy grunts with effort.]
But don't you think it's weird [grunt.]
my dad doesn't want to do the Viking Days race with me? Well, your dad isn't a warrior [grunts.]
in the traditional sense.
I mean, he probably doesn't want to be emasculated - in front of the whole town.
- I guess.
[growls.]
[laughs.]
What is weird is why you would want to participate in such lame-ity.
I don't know, just something [grunts.]
sons and dads are supposed to do.
[grunts.]
It's like a rite of passage around here.
A rite of passage, Chad, [grunts.]
is sticking your hand in a glove crawling with stinging bullet ants, like the Sateré-Mawé tribe of Chongo.
This is just an excuse for some testosterone-y dads to throw shit and drink grog.
[grunts.]
- [laughing.]
Good shot, boss.
- Bull's-eye! [blows whistle.]
Stevens! Last to touch.
Go get it.
Chad: I'd never been around so many bare female shins.
I couldn't take my eyes off them.
[harsh grunt.]
[giggling.]
Why, thank you.
- Thank you very much.
- Uh, hey, Sharla.
I see you're holding my, uh um How's it going? Good.
We're just talking about boys.
- Oh.
- So what do we think about Chad? - He's pretty cute.
- I guess.
But he can't drive.
Actually, I'm getting my learner's per This doesn't really concern you.
Sharla: Ugh! Rich, he could drive, but all he wanted to talk about was his car.
I want someone sweet.
Like Chad.
[gasps.]
Hmm.
He seems like a good hand-holder.
And he totally won't bail on you when football starts.
Okay, so it's settled.
Chad and I are together.
Yay! You better invite me to the wedding.
Yeah.
Aw, thanks.
[giggling.]
Um This is so What do we do now? Sh-Should I walk you somewhere? Why don't you come over to my house for dinner tonight? - I accept.
- Cool.
Boyfriend.
- Yay! - Where the hell did that come from? Sorry to be staring.
I just notice this.
Your head is the exact shape of a Columbian guanabana fruit.
Is uncanny.
It's got a terrible taste.
Ugh.
Sour.
Ugh! Know what's sour, Terry? - Your existence.
- Hey! Dinner is served.
Mamaface's soda-soaked ham.
Wow, Mom, that's one high-falutin' pig.
Why the fancy eats? Well, I have a special request of my two special men.
I would like it very much if you competed in the Viking Days Father-Son race this year.
Together! - Good God, what? No! - What? Together? Never! - Aah! No! - No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
- Oh, good God, no.
- That race is nothing but - Nordic patriarchal propaganda.
- I'd rather burn out my eyes - than spend time with this jackal! - Ai! Now, boys, I think some bonding time would be good for you both.
And it would mean a lot if you made just a little effort.
For me.
[sighs.]
- Okay, fine.
- Okay, okay, fine.
Okay? - I'll do it for you, Joanie, my love.
- Wonderful! Chad: Dinner at Sharla's house.
This was watershed territory.
The type of thing that made a 15-year-old boy feel like a man; like a mighty oak.
[doorbell rings.]
[breathing hard.]
[shudders anxiously.]
[panting, grunting.]
Um I'm Chad? Sharla's guest? [panting.]
- Sharla? - Chad? Chad! Dad, what are you doing? Huh? Oh, yes, Sh-Sharla.
My daughter! Sorry, always get a little lost in my head after splitting a few cords of Australian Ironbark hardwood.
- Dad! - Geez, sorry.
[laughs.]
Nice to meet you, Chad.
Put 'er there.
[crackling.]
[Chad groans in pain.]
Pleasure's mine, sir.
[laughs.]
That's your dad? Yeah, sorry about all the chest hair.
Come on in.
[all talking at once.]
Oh, I'm so irritated when you talk to me in that low voice.
I can't even hear you! Speak up! [groaning, munching.]
[both giggling.]
Your mother teaches piano, right, Chad? - I'd love to sign the girls up.
- Oh, yeah, I'm sure she'd Mom, I told you, [dog yapping.]
no dog at the table.
[growling.]
You know Fifi gets depressed when she's not included.
[all talking at once.]
You don't know anything about dogs.
You don't know anything about anything.
[conversation continues.]
- Whoa.
- My dad's a taxidermist.
His glass-eyed carcasses have been staring at me my whole life.
Cool.
[clears throat.]
I really admire your work, sir.
It's all so real-looking.
- Would you like to see more? - Yeah! Do you mind? Well, I thout we could watch a movie together, but if you'd rather see his dead animal zoo, - then, uh, mm I guess.
- Watch a movie? Okay.
[laughs.]
Always so dramatic, that one.
Come on, Chad.
[growls.]
[gasps.]
[roars.]
[gasps.]
Whoa! [howling.]
[snarling.]
[hissing.]
[roaring.]
[quacking.]
[animal noises continue.]
Welcome to my woolly world.
These beasts.
They're my secret world away from my ladies.
A world frozen in a state of passion.
Whoa.
I was feeling a lot of emotions that day.
It's amazing.
How do you keep their colors so colorful? Fish are a tough mount, Chad.
Skin durability, fin integrity I painted each scale of this bad boy from tip to tail.
- Wow, that's a lot of love.
- You have no idea.
Thanks for indulging me, Chad.
My girls don't want to hear about formaldehyde dip and skin tucking tools.
I love 'em, but I'm drowning in estrogen.
It's nice to have another man around.
[gulping.]
Ah [grunts.]
Mr.
Lemoyne, I don't know what your situation is regarding the Father-Son Hexathalon, but I'm currently without partner.
- Uh, if you're interested, we could - We could, Chad.
And we will.
Put 'er there.
[groans.]
Chad: The Grendel crept over the misty moors [growling.]
darkness and death his loyal companions.
Who would battle this creature of bad? The mighty Viking warriors, Doug and Chad.
[both yelling.]
[growling.]
[groans.]
Misery.
I can't believe my mom is making me run that stupid race with Terry the human germ.
[sighs.]
That sucks, man.
- What do you think? - Nice.
Hunt-y.
I hope Sharla's dad likes it.
He's pretty rugged.
Did you know he never wears a jacket? Just grows his beard out in the winter.
Damn.
He sounds like Paul Bunyan, in a good way.
Huh, with a pop like that, maybe Sharla isn't as lame as I thought.
I guess they're like two halves of the Lemoyne whole.
Well, I'm off to lament my fate over a Sludgee and six quarters' worth of Future Worm.
Enjoy your man practice.
I don't understand it, but we're blood brothers, so I support your decision.
Who wants to try my Bloody Bear Claws for the Viking Days church bake sale? Me, me, me, me! I do, I do! [munching fiercely.]
The blood is raspberry, and the flesh chunks are orange peel.
So, what's the fam up to today? I've got a 5,000-piece puzzle on deck, if anyone's interested.
What do you say, Chad? All camouflage.
Uh, I'm going to Sharla's house to hang out with, um Sharla.
- See you.
- Oh, rats! I'm out too, hon.
These rascals aren't going to bake themselves.
[Rose hums happily.]
Guess it's just you and me, Pops.
Is the puzzle regular camouflage or standard-issue Zorbinite camo of the Galactic Regime? [groans.]
Chad: I never meant to lie to my dad about Doug.
But something in my gut made me hold back.
Either my conscience or that bear claw.
- Hey, Sharla.
- Chad? Wow! What a nice surprise.
Want to help me with my tree? We can hang out and improve air quality at the same time.
Actually - I'm here to see your dad.
- My dad?! Yeah, we're doing the Viking Days race together.
I mean, not that it isn't great to see you So you didn't come over to surprise visit your girlfriend? That was just a happy by-product.
Chad! Is my daughter chewing your ear off about that clean air B.
S.
? [chuckles.]
That's enough, Sharla; the men have work to do.
Whew! I couldn't sleep a wink last night, Chad.
Too jazzed.
You and I are gonna tear this race a new one! Make that two new ones! We've got a big day of training ahead of us.
[grunts.]
Let's take a look.
Axe throwing, fish gutting, knot tying, bow and arrow making, mud run, and the Viking burial at sea.
- They seem to be having fun.
- Of course.
Sweat plus effort plus pain equals fun.
Time to dig in, compadre.
Let's see what you got.
Let 'er fly! [loud panting.]
Mm no offense, but my Anna can throw farther than that, and she's eight.
You have done this before, right? I'm just a little rusty.
I haven't thrown an axe for a while.
[awkward chuckle.]
Understand this, Chad.
If we do this race, there's no halfway.
We're in it to win it.
- Agreed? - Y-Yes, sir.
Good.
Now, let's get going on some hatchet reps.
Jerky break in ten.
[rapid panting, grunting.]
Chad: Men knew how to build and throw and fashion.
I always thought I was a man, but that may have been a technical distinction.
- Okay, this is coming together coming together.
- I was thinking - right there, too, yeah, yeah, yeah.
- I think this could work.
And then we exit here, and your mother - explodes from happiness, right? - Not bad, snake face.
- Chris? - Chad! Exciting development.
We figured out how to get out of this stupid race.
- We're gonna fake it.
- It's gonna be a fake race.
[chuckles.]
So, check this out after the start, we'll sneak away here to this majestic knotty pine, where we'll have stashed our bag of fake race supplies: pre-knotted twine, mud for the mud run Fish guts to rub on our persons for the smell evidence.
Then we zippity-do to the finish line, - where we appear to be friends - But remain mortal enemies.
- Are my two men thirsty out here? - Aw, gee, thanks, Mom! We sure are parched from enjoying each other's company.
Yeah, built a powerful thirst with this lovable scamp.
- Get over here, you! - Ooh what a beautiful sight! - [disgusted grunt.]
Such a mama's boy.
- You make my brain puke.
- Okay, so you have our list of supplies? - Oh, yes! I'll be back in a jiffy.
Wouldn't it be easier just to run the race? With that asshole? No way.
So, how was the big man practice session? [groans.]
Brutal.
Doug's pretty hard-core, man.
I got to say, I do like how you're on a first-name basis - with your gal's dad.
- Sharla! Shit! I-I forgot to say good-bye to her.
Whew! That's not very boyfriendy.
[groans.]
: I know! How can I focus on dating when all I can think about is how much I suck at all these man skills? I've never done them before.
Dude, you've never gutted a fish? Even by accident? [sighs.]
: Nope.
My dad never really taught me anything, except mnemonic devices and how to haggle at the fruit stand.
Mm.
That man isn't doing you any favors.
Can you help me? Please? I don't want to disappoint Doug.
And as far as I can tell, you know how to do pretty much everything.
I do have a certain wrist-flick technique when throwing all matters of cutlery.
All right, don't worry, Chad-o, we'll get you game-ready.
[rock music playing.]
[timer beeping.]
Do that for her! Do you hear me? [gasps.]
Eye of the tiger! Eye of the tiger! Eye of the tiger! Goddamn camouflage.
Rosie, I lost a damn puzzle piece.
Can you? [gasps.]
What the? Whew.
Hello, Chad.
Aah! Jesus, Dad, you scared me.
What are you doing? Care to explain this? Uh, Sharla's dad asked me if I wanted to do the race with him, - and I said yes.
No big deal.
- Right, no big deal.
So, you having fun with your new "fun dad"? - Why are you being so weird? - Because I've been cuckolded! But you didn't even want to do the race.
And Doug's into all that man dad stuff you don't like to do or maybe don't know how to do.
I see.
Well, best of luck, son.
If you need me I'll be puzzling.
Burrito ready.
We're gonna own this.
[chuckles.]
Yeah, Dad.
- Don't embarrass me, Dad, okay? - Yeah, Dad.
[sniffs.]
Victory is in the air, Chad.
Can you smell it? Ripe like a peach ready to be plucked.
- [sniffing.]
I think so.
- All right! I'm gonna go throw some taunt around at these jackamoles.
Limber up! grunts.]
[shutter clicks.]
Ooh, perfect.
That one's going in my Christmas newsletter.
Be right back, Terry, old buddy, old pal.
Operation Fake Race is in full effect.
How's your situation? Honestly, I'm afraid that if I screw up, Doug's gonna stuff me.
Impossible.
You're a Viking warrior with mad skills.
Plus, those taxidermy chemicals, that doesn't even work on people.
Otherwise, that shit would happen all the time.
- Um, Chad? - I'm a ghost.
Hey, Sharla.
Good to see you.
Sorry I've been so busy with - We need a relationship checkup.
- Uh, right now? - Why not now? - Um, I'm kind of in the middle of No, that's the problem! How can we grow as a couple when you'd rather tie knots with my dad?! At least Rich ditched me for a cheerleader.
- That, I can understand! - Chad, it's go time, son.
- Let's line it up! - Uh, I'll check up with you later.
[growling.]
Dad? - Dad, what are you doing? - I'm competing in a father-son race with the son who isn't ashamed of me.
- Hey, Chad.
- Hmph! I'm not Dad, come on.
You have no idea what you're doing.
You and Jay will get eaten alive out there.
Sounds like someone's afraid of a little competition.
[grunting.]
Well, this dark horse is gonna shine.
- See you on the other side.
- Doug: Eye of the tiger! [roars.]
Okay, peel off now.
Let's go, let's go.
Run, you potato.
We're almost there.
[gasping.]
[panting.]
Vamoose, you fuzzy thieves! Vamoose! Goddamn fish guts.
Haven't you ever been camping, dumb ass? You got to seal that shit up and hang it from a tree.
I put them in a plastic zipper bag.
No leaks they say so on TV.
Well, this is just great.
How do we fake race with no fish guts? They were essential to the authenticity of our plan.
I got it.
Let us go to the lake, and I will channel all my energies into my hands and then reach into the water and grab a fish, like a god.
Or we do something not stupid.
You've got this, Chad.
Can you hear the bull's-eye? She's taunting you.
[high-pitched chuckling.]
Ha-ha, Chad, Chaddie - I can't concentrate when - Throw it! Team Lemoyne, dangerous conduct.
Ten point deduction.
No! [groans.]
God! [yells.]
It's okay, Chad.
Still plenty of race to be run.
Just try to suck less.
I'm a doctor.
I can read; I can bake pudding.
Why can't I tie a stupid Jay, can you help your Pops out over here? Jay? Jay? Whoa.
All: The Viking burritos are delicious, and they're only around once a year.
- I'll save a burrito for you, Pops.
- Son of a bitch.
- You look like a goddamn fool.
- Shh, you'll scare the fishes.
What do you think your gnarled snake feet are doing under there? Aha! - Get your hands off, poacher! - No, mine.
That's my fish.
Jabbed it with my extra long pinky nails.
See? - Let go! - Ow, my ankle! Ayayaya! My ankle! - My ankle, ow, it hurts.
- Get up, you Dainty Donna.
- Time's a-wastin'.
- Aah! I can't move.
It's over, okay? Look, we failed, and we must confess our deception to your mother.
Oh, her heart will break, but it's all we can do now.
What? We've worked too hard and come too far on this fake race toust give up.
My mother, your woman, is counting on us to finish this godforsaken thing, and we won't stop until we've pretended to do that for her.
You hear me? Now take my hand, you fragile, weak-ankled son of a bitch.
[gasps.]
Oh.
[grunting.]
Bring it, bring it, bring it yeah! Can you slow down just a little? Did the Vikings slow down as they sailed to Valhalla? So no? [grunting continues.]
Dad, are you okay? Where's Jay? - It's none of your concern.
- Don't converse with the enemy! Dad! Slow and steady, Chad.
It's all part of the plan.
Come on! We're in the home stretch.
- I'm sorry, I have to save my dad.
- Are you quitting? - My dad needs my help.
- Yeah, and so does mine.
I may not understand his need to hunt and gut and stuff our Earth's precious creatures, but I do understand honor and commitment.
You can't just bail on him.
Sharla I'll never understand how I sired a beatnik, but you're a good girl, and you run like a goddamn gazelle.
- Now race with your dad.
- Oh, Dad.
Great idea.
You guys do that.
I gotta go.
Let's do this goddamn thing.
- Dad! - Chad? What are you doing? I'm coming aboard.
No, Chad, the wind's got me.
I'm hers now.
We can do this, Dad.
Slow and steady, just like you said.
Now pedal.
[grunting.]
Pathetic.
[chuckling.]
- Yeah, we got this one.
- Aw, Dad! Come on, son, pedal, pedal, pedal, we got them.
Yeah! All right, son, let's finish this thing.
Come on, come on I don't know, Dad, don't you just kind of want to go home? More than you know.
[groaning.]
- [gasps.]
Boys, what happened? - I'm sorry, Mom.
We were so close, but Terry's bird-leg joints My body gave out when my will was still strong.
I am shamed, my Joanie.
I don't care if you finish.
I'm just so happy you tried for me.
Stay here; I'll get some ice.
- She bought it.
- Ah, we did it! It's over.
- Burrito ready.
- This Viking needs a burrito.
You're better off, Chad-o.
Trust me.
Mountain men, they're an unpredictable bunch.
I don't know what I was thinking.
The dad is always greener, I guess.
- So you and Sharla are quits, huh? - Yeah, seems like it for now.
I think her dad's pretty pissed at me.
Forbidden love? That's more exciting anyway.
So, see you on top of the water tower, tomorrow at noon? Definitely.
- Hey, Dad.
- Chad, just in time.
Grab a seat.
Look, your father brought home a movie.
Something from the office about eye surgeries.
I made popcorn.
[narrator speaking on movie.]
- Oh, my.
- Gross.
Ooh, look at that ocular crust.
It'll take a crowbar to pry that open.
[all laughing.]
Well that that's a human eyeball, for heaven's sakes, oh.
Chad: Everything was back to status quo, as it should be.
[gagging.]
"Viking Days" [ firecracker pops .]
Chad: Munich has Oktoberfest.
Rio has Carnival.
Holford has [fanfare plays.]
Viking Days.
It's a pretty big deal around here, celebrating the founding of Holford, originally Holfrund, by Norwegian settlers.
Legend dictates the town ancestors [bears growling.]
were saved from an attack of bloodthirsty bears by a strong, brave and blond father and son duo.
The warriors celebrated their victory by cutting out the beast's heart, and declaring the land beneath their feet as their own.
There's a Taco Steve's there now.
The celebration culminates in the most popular event at the festival the Father-Son Hexathalon a competition of cunning and brawn.
My dad and I usually go to the garden store that day because there's no line.
'Sup, Chad.
You stoked for Viking Days? I'm super stoked.
I heard some experimental artist from Omaha is gonna make a diorama of the bear battle out of butter, honey and human hair.
That does sound cool.
Are you and your dad doing the Hexathalon? Of course! Dad and I love that stuff.
Hunting, fishing we even built a car engine from scratch.
You do that kind of stuff with your dad? Yeah, totally.
Don't you? Come on, champ.
Let's locomote.
[grunts.]
[chuckles.]
[laughs.]
Need a hand, clumso? [chuckles.]
Or a foot? [chuckling.]
Aw Dad I'm so glad you're my dad.
Hmm.
Chad Stevens? Chad: This is the closest I ever got to my dad.
Fathers and sons hung out, talked, shared interests.
Were we doing this right? Uh, hey, Dad? Have you ever thought about that - father-son race at Viking Days? - The Hexathalon? Yeah.
I don't know, you know, if you're interested, we could [chuckles.]
Come on, Chad.
We're not running people.
We're sitting people.
That outdoorsy crap's not really our thing.
Well, son, everything looks tip-top.
See Barbara at the front on your way out.
[shouting, shoes squeaking on floor.]
[clears throat.]
[growls.]
Yeah, get him.
Kudos on the checkup, man.
I mean, sure, my glasses give character and depth, but there's no substitution for a working pair of peepers.
[boy grunts with effort.]
But don't you think it's weird [grunt.]
my dad doesn't want to do the Viking Days race with me? Well, your dad isn't a warrior [grunts.]
in the traditional sense.
I mean, he probably doesn't want to be emasculated - in front of the whole town.
- I guess.
[growls.]
[laughs.]
What is weird is why you would want to participate in such lame-ity.
I don't know, just something [grunts.]
sons and dads are supposed to do.
[grunts.]
It's like a rite of passage around here.
A rite of passage, Chad, [grunts.]
is sticking your hand in a glove crawling with stinging bullet ants, like the Sateré-Mawé tribe of Chongo.
This is just an excuse for some testosterone-y dads to throw shit and drink grog.
[grunts.]
- [laughing.]
Good shot, boss.
- Bull's-eye! [blows whistle.]
Stevens! Last to touch.
Go get it.
Chad: I'd never been around so many bare female shins.
I couldn't take my eyes off them.
[harsh grunt.]
[giggling.]
Why, thank you.
- Thank you very much.
- Uh, hey, Sharla.
I see you're holding my, uh um How's it going? Good.
We're just talking about boys.
- Oh.
- So what do we think about Chad? - He's pretty cute.
- I guess.
But he can't drive.
Actually, I'm getting my learner's per This doesn't really concern you.
Sharla: Ugh! Rich, he could drive, but all he wanted to talk about was his car.
I want someone sweet.
Like Chad.
[gasps.]
Hmm.
He seems like a good hand-holder.
And he totally won't bail on you when football starts.
Okay, so it's settled.
Chad and I are together.
Yay! You better invite me to the wedding.
Yeah.
Aw, thanks.
[giggling.]
Um This is so What do we do now? Sh-Should I walk you somewhere? Why don't you come over to my house for dinner tonight? - I accept.
- Cool.
Boyfriend.
- Yay! - Where the hell did that come from? Sorry to be staring.
I just notice this.
Your head is the exact shape of a Columbian guanabana fruit.
Is uncanny.
It's got a terrible taste.
Ugh.
Sour.
Ugh! Know what's sour, Terry? - Your existence.
- Hey! Dinner is served.
Mamaface's soda-soaked ham.
Wow, Mom, that's one high-falutin' pig.
Why the fancy eats? Well, I have a special request of my two special men.
I would like it very much if you competed in the Viking Days Father-Son race this year.
Together! - Good God, what? No! - What? Together? Never! - Aah! No! - No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
- Oh, good God, no.
- That race is nothing but - Nordic patriarchal propaganda.
- I'd rather burn out my eyes - than spend time with this jackal! - Ai! Now, boys, I think some bonding time would be good for you both.
And it would mean a lot if you made just a little effort.
For me.
[sighs.]
- Okay, fine.
- Okay, okay, fine.
Okay? - I'll do it for you, Joanie, my love.
- Wonderful! Chad: Dinner at Sharla's house.
This was watershed territory.
The type of thing that made a 15-year-old boy feel like a man; like a mighty oak.
[doorbell rings.]
[breathing hard.]
[shudders anxiously.]
[panting, grunting.]
Um I'm Chad? Sharla's guest? [panting.]
- Sharla? - Chad? Chad! Dad, what are you doing? Huh? Oh, yes, Sh-Sharla.
My daughter! Sorry, always get a little lost in my head after splitting a few cords of Australian Ironbark hardwood.
- Dad! - Geez, sorry.
[laughs.]
Nice to meet you, Chad.
Put 'er there.
[crackling.]
[Chad groans in pain.]
Pleasure's mine, sir.
[laughs.]
That's your dad? Yeah, sorry about all the chest hair.
Come on in.
[all talking at once.]
Oh, I'm so irritated when you talk to me in that low voice.
I can't even hear you! Speak up! [groaning, munching.]
[both giggling.]
Your mother teaches piano, right, Chad? - I'd love to sign the girls up.
- Oh, yeah, I'm sure she'd Mom, I told you, [dog yapping.]
no dog at the table.
[growling.]
You know Fifi gets depressed when she's not included.
[all talking at once.]
You don't know anything about dogs.
You don't know anything about anything.
[conversation continues.]
- Whoa.
- My dad's a taxidermist.
His glass-eyed carcasses have been staring at me my whole life.
Cool.
[clears throat.]
I really admire your work, sir.
It's all so real-looking.
- Would you like to see more? - Yeah! Do you mind? Well, I thout we could watch a movie together, but if you'd rather see his dead animal zoo, - then, uh, mm I guess.
- Watch a movie? Okay.
[laughs.]
Always so dramatic, that one.
Come on, Chad.
[growls.]
[gasps.]
[roars.]
[gasps.]
Whoa! [howling.]
[snarling.]
[hissing.]
[roaring.]
[quacking.]
[animal noises continue.]
Welcome to my woolly world.
These beasts.
They're my secret world away from my ladies.
A world frozen in a state of passion.
Whoa.
I was feeling a lot of emotions that day.
It's amazing.
How do you keep their colors so colorful? Fish are a tough mount, Chad.
Skin durability, fin integrity I painted each scale of this bad boy from tip to tail.
- Wow, that's a lot of love.
- You have no idea.
Thanks for indulging me, Chad.
My girls don't want to hear about formaldehyde dip and skin tucking tools.
I love 'em, but I'm drowning in estrogen.
It's nice to have another man around.
[gulping.]
Ah [grunts.]
Mr.
Lemoyne, I don't know what your situation is regarding the Father-Son Hexathalon, but I'm currently without partner.
- Uh, if you're interested, we could - We could, Chad.
And we will.
Put 'er there.
[groans.]
Chad: The Grendel crept over the misty moors [growling.]
darkness and death his loyal companions.
Who would battle this creature of bad? The mighty Viking warriors, Doug and Chad.
[both yelling.]
[growling.]
[groans.]
Misery.
I can't believe my mom is making me run that stupid race with Terry the human germ.
[sighs.]
That sucks, man.
- What do you think? - Nice.
Hunt-y.
I hope Sharla's dad likes it.
He's pretty rugged.
Did you know he never wears a jacket? Just grows his beard out in the winter.
Damn.
He sounds like Paul Bunyan, in a good way.
Huh, with a pop like that, maybe Sharla isn't as lame as I thought.
I guess they're like two halves of the Lemoyne whole.
Well, I'm off to lament my fate over a Sludgee and six quarters' worth of Future Worm.
Enjoy your man practice.
I don't understand it, but we're blood brothers, so I support your decision.
Who wants to try my Bloody Bear Claws for the Viking Days church bake sale? Me, me, me, me! I do, I do! [munching fiercely.]
The blood is raspberry, and the flesh chunks are orange peel.
So, what's the fam up to today? I've got a 5,000-piece puzzle on deck, if anyone's interested.
What do you say, Chad? All camouflage.
Uh, I'm going to Sharla's house to hang out with, um Sharla.
- See you.
- Oh, rats! I'm out too, hon.
These rascals aren't going to bake themselves.
[Rose hums happily.]
Guess it's just you and me, Pops.
Is the puzzle regular camouflage or standard-issue Zorbinite camo of the Galactic Regime? [groans.]
Chad: I never meant to lie to my dad about Doug.
But something in my gut made me hold back.
Either my conscience or that bear claw.
- Hey, Sharla.
- Chad? Wow! What a nice surprise.
Want to help me with my tree? We can hang out and improve air quality at the same time.
Actually - I'm here to see your dad.
- My dad?! Yeah, we're doing the Viking Days race together.
I mean, not that it isn't great to see you So you didn't come over to surprise visit your girlfriend? That was just a happy by-product.
Chad! Is my daughter chewing your ear off about that clean air B.
S.
? [chuckles.]
That's enough, Sharla; the men have work to do.
Whew! I couldn't sleep a wink last night, Chad.
Too jazzed.
You and I are gonna tear this race a new one! Make that two new ones! We've got a big day of training ahead of us.
[grunts.]
Let's take a look.
Axe throwing, fish gutting, knot tying, bow and arrow making, mud run, and the Viking burial at sea.
- They seem to be having fun.
- Of course.
Sweat plus effort plus pain equals fun.
Time to dig in, compadre.
Let's see what you got.
Let 'er fly! [loud panting.]
Mm no offense, but my Anna can throw farther than that, and she's eight.
You have done this before, right? I'm just a little rusty.
I haven't thrown an axe for a while.
[awkward chuckle.]
Understand this, Chad.
If we do this race, there's no halfway.
We're in it to win it.
- Agreed? - Y-Yes, sir.
Good.
Now, let's get going on some hatchet reps.
Jerky break in ten.
[rapid panting, grunting.]
Chad: Men knew how to build and throw and fashion.
I always thought I was a man, but that may have been a technical distinction.
- Okay, this is coming together coming together.
- I was thinking - right there, too, yeah, yeah, yeah.
- I think this could work.
And then we exit here, and your mother - explodes from happiness, right? - Not bad, snake face.
- Chris? - Chad! Exciting development.
We figured out how to get out of this stupid race.
- We're gonna fake it.
- It's gonna be a fake race.
[chuckles.]
So, check this out after the start, we'll sneak away here to this majestic knotty pine, where we'll have stashed our bag of fake race supplies: pre-knotted twine, mud for the mud run Fish guts to rub on our persons for the smell evidence.
Then we zippity-do to the finish line, - where we appear to be friends - But remain mortal enemies.
- Are my two men thirsty out here? - Aw, gee, thanks, Mom! We sure are parched from enjoying each other's company.
Yeah, built a powerful thirst with this lovable scamp.
- Get over here, you! - Ooh what a beautiful sight! - [disgusted grunt.]
Such a mama's boy.
- You make my brain puke.
- Okay, so you have our list of supplies? - Oh, yes! I'll be back in a jiffy.
Wouldn't it be easier just to run the race? With that asshole? No way.
So, how was the big man practice session? [groans.]
Brutal.
Doug's pretty hard-core, man.
I got to say, I do like how you're on a first-name basis - with your gal's dad.
- Sharla! Shit! I-I forgot to say good-bye to her.
Whew! That's not very boyfriendy.
[groans.]
: I know! How can I focus on dating when all I can think about is how much I suck at all these man skills? I've never done them before.
Dude, you've never gutted a fish? Even by accident? [sighs.]
: Nope.
My dad never really taught me anything, except mnemonic devices and how to haggle at the fruit stand.
Mm.
That man isn't doing you any favors.
Can you help me? Please? I don't want to disappoint Doug.
And as far as I can tell, you know how to do pretty much everything.
I do have a certain wrist-flick technique when throwing all matters of cutlery.
All right, don't worry, Chad-o, we'll get you game-ready.
[rock music playing.]
[timer beeping.]
Do that for her! Do you hear me? [gasps.]
Eye of the tiger! Eye of the tiger! Eye of the tiger! Goddamn camouflage.
Rosie, I lost a damn puzzle piece.
Can you? [gasps.]
What the? Whew.
Hello, Chad.
Aah! Jesus, Dad, you scared me.
What are you doing? Care to explain this? Uh, Sharla's dad asked me if I wanted to do the race with him, - and I said yes.
No big deal.
- Right, no big deal.
So, you having fun with your new "fun dad"? - Why are you being so weird? - Because I've been cuckolded! But you didn't even want to do the race.
And Doug's into all that man dad stuff you don't like to do or maybe don't know how to do.
I see.
Well, best of luck, son.
If you need me I'll be puzzling.
Burrito ready.
We're gonna own this.
[chuckles.]
Yeah, Dad.
- Don't embarrass me, Dad, okay? - Yeah, Dad.
[sniffs.]
Victory is in the air, Chad.
Can you smell it? Ripe like a peach ready to be plucked.
- [sniffing.]
I think so.
- All right! I'm gonna go throw some taunt around at these jackamoles.
Limber up! grunts.]
[shutter clicks.]
Ooh, perfect.
That one's going in my Christmas newsletter.
Be right back, Terry, old buddy, old pal.
Operation Fake Race is in full effect.
How's your situation? Honestly, I'm afraid that if I screw up, Doug's gonna stuff me.
Impossible.
You're a Viking warrior with mad skills.
Plus, those taxidermy chemicals, that doesn't even work on people.
Otherwise, that shit would happen all the time.
- Um, Chad? - I'm a ghost.
Hey, Sharla.
Good to see you.
Sorry I've been so busy with - We need a relationship checkup.
- Uh, right now? - Why not now? - Um, I'm kind of in the middle of No, that's the problem! How can we grow as a couple when you'd rather tie knots with my dad?! At least Rich ditched me for a cheerleader.
- That, I can understand! - Chad, it's go time, son.
- Let's line it up! - Uh, I'll check up with you later.
[growling.]
Dad? - Dad, what are you doing? - I'm competing in a father-son race with the son who isn't ashamed of me.
- Hey, Chad.
- Hmph! I'm not Dad, come on.
You have no idea what you're doing.
You and Jay will get eaten alive out there.
Sounds like someone's afraid of a little competition.
[grunting.]
Well, this dark horse is gonna shine.
- See you on the other side.
- Doug: Eye of the tiger! [roars.]
Okay, peel off now.
Let's go, let's go.
Run, you potato.
We're almost there.
[gasping.]
[panting.]
Vamoose, you fuzzy thieves! Vamoose! Goddamn fish guts.
Haven't you ever been camping, dumb ass? You got to seal that shit up and hang it from a tree.
I put them in a plastic zipper bag.
No leaks they say so on TV.
Well, this is just great.
How do we fake race with no fish guts? They were essential to the authenticity of our plan.
I got it.
Let us go to the lake, and I will channel all my energies into my hands and then reach into the water and grab a fish, like a god.
Or we do something not stupid.
You've got this, Chad.
Can you hear the bull's-eye? She's taunting you.
[high-pitched chuckling.]
Ha-ha, Chad, Chaddie - I can't concentrate when - Throw it! Team Lemoyne, dangerous conduct.
Ten point deduction.
No! [groans.]
God! [yells.]
It's okay, Chad.
Still plenty of race to be run.
Just try to suck less.
I'm a doctor.
I can read; I can bake pudding.
Why can't I tie a stupid Jay, can you help your Pops out over here? Jay? Jay? Whoa.
All: The Viking burritos are delicious, and they're only around once a year.
- I'll save a burrito for you, Pops.
- Son of a bitch.
- You look like a goddamn fool.
- Shh, you'll scare the fishes.
What do you think your gnarled snake feet are doing under there? Aha! - Get your hands off, poacher! - No, mine.
That's my fish.
Jabbed it with my extra long pinky nails.
See? - Let go! - Ow, my ankle! Ayayaya! My ankle! - My ankle, ow, it hurts.
- Get up, you Dainty Donna.
- Time's a-wastin'.
- Aah! I can't move.
It's over, okay? Look, we failed, and we must confess our deception to your mother.
Oh, her heart will break, but it's all we can do now.
What? We've worked too hard and come too far on this fake race toust give up.
My mother, your woman, is counting on us to finish this godforsaken thing, and we won't stop until we've pretended to do that for her.
You hear me? Now take my hand, you fragile, weak-ankled son of a bitch.
[gasps.]
Oh.
[grunting.]
Bring it, bring it, bring it yeah! Can you slow down just a little? Did the Vikings slow down as they sailed to Valhalla? So no? [grunting continues.]
Dad, are you okay? Where's Jay? - It's none of your concern.
- Don't converse with the enemy! Dad! Slow and steady, Chad.
It's all part of the plan.
Come on! We're in the home stretch.
- I'm sorry, I have to save my dad.
- Are you quitting? - My dad needs my help.
- Yeah, and so does mine.
I may not understand his need to hunt and gut and stuff our Earth's precious creatures, but I do understand honor and commitment.
You can't just bail on him.
Sharla I'll never understand how I sired a beatnik, but you're a good girl, and you run like a goddamn gazelle.
- Now race with your dad.
- Oh, Dad.
Great idea.
You guys do that.
I gotta go.
Let's do this goddamn thing.
- Dad! - Chad? What are you doing? I'm coming aboard.
No, Chad, the wind's got me.
I'm hers now.
We can do this, Dad.
Slow and steady, just like you said.
Now pedal.
[grunting.]
Pathetic.
[chuckling.]
- Yeah, we got this one.
- Aw, Dad! Come on, son, pedal, pedal, pedal, we got them.
Yeah! All right, son, let's finish this thing.
Come on, come on I don't know, Dad, don't you just kind of want to go home? More than you know.
[groaning.]
- [gasps.]
Boys, what happened? - I'm sorry, Mom.
We were so close, but Terry's bird-leg joints My body gave out when my will was still strong.
I am shamed, my Joanie.
I don't care if you finish.
I'm just so happy you tried for me.
Stay here; I'll get some ice.
- She bought it.
- Ah, we did it! It's over.
- Burrito ready.
- This Viking needs a burrito.
You're better off, Chad-o.
Trust me.
Mountain men, they're an unpredictable bunch.
I don't know what I was thinking.
The dad is always greener, I guess.
- So you and Sharla are quits, huh? - Yeah, seems like it for now.
I think her dad's pretty pissed at me.
Forbidden love? That's more exciting anyway.
So, see you on top of the water tower, tomorrow at noon? Definitely.
- Hey, Dad.
- Chad, just in time.
Grab a seat.
Look, your father brought home a movie.
Something from the office about eye surgeries.
I made popcorn.
[narrator speaking on movie.]
- Oh, my.
- Gross.
Ooh, look at that ocular crust.
It'll take a crowbar to pry that open.
[all laughing.]
Well that that's a human eyeball, for heaven's sakes, oh.
Chad: Everything was back to status quo, as it should be.
[gagging.]