Family Guy s03e07 Episode Script

"It seems today that all you see "Is violence in movies and sex on TV "But where are those|good old-fashioned values "On which we used to rely? "Lucky there's a family guy "Lucky there's a man who positively|can do all the things that make us "Laugh and cry "He's a family guy Whoo-hoo, baby! 12 in a row! You must have had a great body|before it went all fun-house mirror.
- I can't believe how terrific you look.
|- I've been taking tae-jitsu classes.
- You should come with me sometime.
|- I'd love to.
- Oh! The baby's kicking.
Wanna feel?|- Sure.
- You are freakin' dead, kid.
|- Peter! - Oh, I love this time of year.
|- Me, too.
The tourists are gone and|we have the town to ourselves before those idiots from New York show up|to watch the leaves change and take over.
(gasp) Leafers! Holy crap.
We gotta get outta here.
- What about the boat?|- Leave it! - Hurry, Peter.
They're almost here.
|- We're too late.
Yo, check out those colours.
Yellow like|a taxi, orange like the ball at the Knicks game, and red like the sauce|on my mamma mia's gugotz.
Yeah, and brown, like the guys|I don't pick up in my cab.
- Bea-utiful!|- Aagh! Good evening.
Tonight's top story: Quahog is infested with loud, hairy|creatures, also known as New Yorkers.
They migrate north|every autumn to see the foliage.
I think I speak for all of us when I say New Yorkers can fornicate|themselves with an iron stick.
(horns beep) - We're gonna be late for church.
|- Move it! Damn leafers.
Christ, quit it! Mom,|Chris put his foot on my side again.
- I can't help it.
I have long dancer's legs.
|- Move it.
Stop whining.
Stay on your side.
|Lois, get off your ass and do some parenting.
If you don't stop, we won't|go to McDonald's after church.
- Mom!|- Don't worry.
We're goin'.
- But you don't get the Super Size.
|- Oh! - OK, you can Super Size, but no apple pie.
|- Come on.
OK, but you can't blow on it.
Peter, don't contradict me in front of the kids.
Brothers and sisters fightin' is as natural as|a white man's dialogue in a Spike Lee movie.
- Wassup? Can I get two slices of pepperoni?|- (snarls) - Who are all these people?|- Damn New Yorkers.
They took all the good seats.
Aren't you precious! Some of my novelty items|were provided by Jack's Joke Shop.
If it ain't funny, it ain't worth Jack.
I'd like to welcome|all our out-of-town parishioners.
My cousin, Father Sapienza,|is in from New York to see the leaves.
I'd like to invite him|to do the opening prayer.
Yo, God is good, huh?|And he expects us to be good.
And if you're not, he's gonna come down|and bust your freakin' skull.
Amen.
Who do you think you're talking to?|God ain't tougher than me.
You can't talk to the father like that,|you stupid gavone.
I oughta come and break your freakin' arm! Wanna go, tough guy?|I'll snap you in half like an almond biscotti from Valero's on 51st Street, best in the city.
Fellas, this is God's house.
|And the Patriots kick off in 45 minutes.
- Can we move this along?|- Patriots suck.
Blasphemy! It burns! Holy water? Where's that acid I ordered? Hey, Guido, watch this.
Whoa! I've got to lay off the coffee.
|Ha-cha-cha-cha-cha-cha! That's Jack's.
Exit 14 off 295.
Tae-jitsu is about power -|for your body and your mind.
Don't be afraid to free the beast inside you.
Left kick, right kick, punch combo, stomp.
Beautiful.
Again.
Left kick - You're doing great for your first lesson.
|- I'm really cuttin' loose.
Like Julie Andrews in that movie|where she showed her breasts.
Mary, you'll never leave us, will you? Lovely, but it doesn't quite|answer our question.
Jets rule! Watch where you're going.
Horace, put the|Pats game on the TV and get me a few beers.
Sorry, Peter.
Someone stole the remotes.
And the kegs.
And I'm not sure,|but I think I've been shot.
Yep.
Hey, pal, watch my seat.
|I gotta bleed the lizard.
Public urination is just wrong.
|Except during the Million Man March when protesters burned our Porta-Pottis.
Then I used my stream of justice|to put out the hate.
I don't know, fellas.
I think|there's potential in this crowd.
Honey, why don't you turn around|and show me the Lower East Side? - Sure.
|- Transvestite! Back off.
- Wait a sec.
Pre-op or post-op?|- Pre-op.
Transvestite! Back off.
This place blows.
|We gotta send these strap-hangers back.
Don't worry.
I got an idea.
An idea so smart, my head would explode if I|even began to know what I was talking about.
(Peter) Aagh! I am a man-eating tree.
Go back to New York or I will eat you.
Just like I ate insane|New York anchorman Dan Rather.
Pah! And look who I had for dessert.
|Asexual former mayor Ed Koch.
Pah! Leave my land or I will smite you|with my powerful limb.
What are you, nuts? Give me that branch.
Get off of me! Oh, my God! Stop fighting! - Holy crap!|- Oh, my God! Mom, you could be a world champion, and no one could hit you below the belt|cos girls don't have anything down there.
- Can you teach me to kick ass?|- No.
I do not condone violence.
I won't be responsible for|bringing fistfighting into our schools.
Gee, can you hear me|all the way back there in the '50s? - That was lame.
|- Poor Peter.
I emasculated him in front of all those people.
|I think he's really upset.
Gather round, everybody.
|10 bucks is all it takes.
Step right up and fight my wife.
Come one, come all.
She floats like a|butterfly and stings like when I pee.
Peter, I am not a sideshow attraction.
|At least, not any more.
Me likey bouncy! Me likey bouncy! I want you to get rid of all of this right now,|cos I am never fighting again, ever! Come on, Chris.
We'll have to go to plan B.
No! Oh, God! Oh, my God! Help me! Help me!|For God's sake, he's gonna kill me! Don't worry.
It's a trained bear.
|He's in no real danger.
He's teaching a class.
I can't bother him now.
Sure you can.
Hey, Ralph Macchio!|My wife here needs to talk to you.
There you go, honey.
- What is it, Lois?|- I don't think I should do tae-jitsu any more.
- I'm afraid I'm gonna hurt someone.
|- But, Lois, you're my star pupil.
- I want you in my advanced class.
|- Advanced class? No, no, no.
- I'm trying to quit.
|- Well, fine.
Quit.
- But get used to people walking all over you.
|- Hold on, there.
Nobody walks all over my wife,|cos I won't let 'em.
- Peter|- Quiet.
Men are talking.
She learns things eventually.
|It just takes her longer.
Come on.
If you hurry, I'll let you try on hats.
|I won't let you buy, but you can try 'em on.
I'll do it.
Ow! - Stewie, you wanna swing?|- Yes, why not? I'll have a go at it.
Perhaps a quick stretch first.
Damn.
Must have pulled something|playing hoops last week.
I know you're not puttin' that rock|up from here.
You ain't got no J.
- Yo, man, that's trippin'!|- You're the one who's trippin'.
Cry home to your mama.
She waitin' for ya.
Now don't make me put|my size 13s up your narrow ass! I don't sweat you.
Bring it on, bitch!|Now how you gonna act? Sheesh! Bringin' that trash in here.
|This is my house.
Excuse me.
We were about to use that.
- You snooze, you lose, lady.
|- You have two choices.
Either my baby swings from|this jungle gym, or you do.
Ooh, Lois! Someone's wearing|their ovaries on the outside.
- She saw me walking to the swing.
|- She saw you.
Easy, now.
Nobody walks all over me.
Those days|are over.
Lois Griffin demands respect.
I smell a messy diaper.
|God, why does that turn me on? - Hold it, Meg.
Those two are mine.
|- What? That's Randy, and that's Fred.
|Randy is the messy one.
Fred's very neat.
When you get 'em together,|hold on to your sides! Nice to meet you both.
Murderer! Stop it, both of you.
Starting now,|you two are gonna love each other.
Now stay that way.
It's gonna be weird to potty.
Sheesh, Lois, look at the garbage|those damn leafers dumped on our lawn.
New York Post, New York Magazine,|the New York Mets.
Peter, I'm sick and tired of hearing you whine|about the leafers.
Take some action.
Free the beast! That was strangely arousing.
Aagh! Hello? 911? It's Quagmire.
|Yeah.
It's in a window this time.
- Wow, look at them run.
|- Wait a second, Brian.
That gives me an idea.
The Drunken Clam? Why couldn't we go|someplace fancy, like The Olive Garden? The breadsticks!|Me likey breadsticks! Me likey - You're a big girl now.
Stop it.
|- Hold on, Lois.
Excuse me, New Yorker.
You're in my seat,|and I had sex with your mother last night.
- Are you crazy?|- What did you say? About the seat, or about|my ploughing your father's wife? - What the hell are you doing?|- Excuse me.
Is your refrigerator running? If it is, it probably runs like you -|very homosexually.
- What?!|- Oh, you wanna dance? Jets suck, Yankees suck, Knicks suck.
Krypton sucks.
(echoing cries) That's right.
Go back where|you came from, you bastards! We'll conclude the graduation ceremony|with a demonstration by the black belts.
Let's show 'em what we've learnt.
- Kathy, get in there with Lois.
|- I can't.
I have cramps.
Why are you putting me up|against the scrubs? - Be a man and fight me yourself.
|- Lois, the sensei is a sacred position.
I could never violate the spiritual bond|of the student-master relationship.
- Then allow me.
|- (spectators) Ooh! - The bond is broken.
|- Then spin the wheel, raggedy man! Go, Lois! Pummel him|with your powerful fists of female fury.
And then when he's weary,|emasculate him with your incessant nagging.
Women! Yakety-yak, yakety-yak, yak, yak.
You know, huh? Enjoy the fight.
Yah! Lois, that was amazing.
Congratu This is mine.
|This is where my babies come from.
And now back to the movie of the week.
If this glacier goes slower|than one mile a year, we're all dead! Tell me something I don't know!|Get out of the way! Lois, I was watching that.
- What you looking at?|- The underpants.
Lose 'em.
Actually, I kinda|I sorta have a headache, kinda.
- Maybe tomorrow or|- Take 'em off.
Yeah, OK, honey.
Whoa! What the hell are you doing?|Those are my graham crackers.
Run along, Stewie.
Daddy had a rough night.
Why, you tottering, fem-sucked dewberry! I'm going to go find something|to strike you with.
Excuse me.
Good morning.
|Peter, you look terrible.
What happened? Last night Lois was the man! - Good Lord.
|- I just want you to know, Brian, I didn't cry.
- (sobs)|- It's OK.
Shh.
Oh, no! Peter! Stewie, what did you do? He freed the beast|all over the back of Peter's head.
Oh, my God.
This is my fault.
This is my fault!|I brought violence into this house! - I'm the worst mother in the world!|- Ah-ha! I got it all on tape.
(Stewie) OK, this is me|interviewing Ed Sullivan.
What's new, Ed? (imitates Ed) Well, Stewie,|tonight we have a really big show.
(Stewie) OK, and now a word|from our sponsors.
It takes a very steady hand.
|Don't touch the sides! Butterfingers! I was making radio shows for fun.
Everybody does it.
|At least, everybody I know.
Shut up! Stewart, take this mommy doll and daddy|doll and show me how they act together.
Oh.
Yes, very well.
All right.
"Margaret, after 20 years of marriage, your|curious indiscretions no longer faze me.
" "Really? And I suppose|you think I enjoy hanging onto those hammocky deposits of|gin sugars you call buttocks?" - What was that? What did you just write?|- Give me that.
"Insecurity.
Gender confusion.
"|I'll give you something to write about.
Look at me.
I'm insane!|I'm Martin Lawrence on a bender.
Mr and Mrs Griffin, does Stewart|have a history of aggression? No.
Hitting Peter is the first|violent thing he's ever done.
Technically, the first was that time bomb|I left ticking in your uterus before I came out.
Happy 50th birthday, Lois.
Your son is learning|misbehaviour from someone.
I I know who's responsible|for Stewie's behaviour, but if I told you,|Lois'd beat the crap out of me.
Now, just a minute! The whole reason|I started fighting is because of you.
I felt weak.
You never listen to me.
|You undermine me in front of the kids.
And besides, you're not exactly|Father of the Year yourself.
Well, there seems to be a lot|of anger in your household.
You owe it to your son to learn|how to manage these feelings.
Manage what? I know I went a little overboard|with my tae-jitsu, but from now on we're not gonna have|any more anger in this house, OK? Tell Chris to quit drawing|pictures of me with a pig's body.
- Don't censure me!|- No more anger! OK.
The psychologist wants us|to try an exercise called role reversal, where we pretend to be|the person who makes us angry.
I'll go first.
"Don't listen to your mother, kids.
|She's worthless and dumb.
" "Lgnore her and only listen to me - Peter.
" "I'm Lois.
I brake for yard sales,|but I don't let Peter buy anything he likes, like that Narragansett beer sign|where the hot chick has two mugs for jugs.
" It was eight freakin' dollars,|and we have a dozen places to put it! Me next, me next! "I'm the dog.
I'm well-read|and have a diverse stock portfolio, but I'm not above eating grass clippings and|regurgitating them on the rug by the door.
" "I'm a pompous antichrist who will probably|drop my plans for world domination when I grow up and fall in love|with a rough trick named Jim.
" Whoa, Peter, calm down.
I'm sick of Lois's anger-management|techniques.
They're not working.
What about writing angry letters|and not sending them? - I wasn't supposed to send those?|- (Meg) I got a letter from Dad.
"Dear Meg.
For the first four years of your|life, I thought you were a house cat.
" Dad! "Dear Stewie.
Get out.
" That's nice.
Mine just says "Dear Lois.
" And after that|it looks like someone just spit on the paper.
- You got somethin' to say to me?|- Yeah.
PS: (gathers phlegm in throat) Hold on a sec.
Hold on.
Relax.
Everybody, relax.
I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but we need to get our anger under control|before we kill each other.
My psychiatrist gave me|these mood elevators.
I think they could help even us out.
We're not taking pills.
It's not natural.
Nor is bleaching the hair|on your upper lip, Martin Mull.
Give us the pills.
- " Ah-um|- " Ba-ba - " Ah-um|- " Ba-ba "Ay-oh, Mother Africa "Ah-um "Ba-ba That was fun.
What country shall we do next? Monaco.
Wait - that's a principality.
Wanna hear something really funny? Those|pills I gave you were placebos.
Sugar pills.
(chuckles) Are you telling me I just sang|Ladysmith Black Mambazo for nothing? Did it kill you to be|multicultural for a minute? - I died a little inside, yes.
You happy now?|- Don't you use that tone of voice, you - What were you gonna say? Fat ass?|- Wide load? - Dough boy?|- Country virtuoso Roy Clark? - How about all of the above?|- How's this for a name? "Pony Express is in.
"|"What have you got for me, Joe?" "Let me see.
It's here somewhere.
" "Here we are.
A big bag|of liver spots for Lois.
" - You You just hit me.
|- That's right.
- You can't hit me! I'm a girl!|- Sometimes I wonder.
- Kicking, Lois?|- Ha! Hurts, doesn't it? You tell me.
Go, Dad! Kick her ass! - Shut up! This is all Dad's fault.
|- I don't like to be touched! Aaagh! Aaaaagh! (chuckles) Man, I'm glad we got that out of our systems.
- I wonder what came over us.
|- Maybe people are naturally violent.
I don't believe that.
|I think it's all the TV we watch.
- There's so much violence.
|- Yeah, TV is dangerous.
Why the hell doesn't the government|tell us what we can and can't watch? Shame on the network|that puts this junk on the air! Peter, maybe you shouldn't say|anything bad about the network.
What are they gonna do? Cut our budget?|I'm gonna go get a beer.