The Great North (2021) s03e14 Episode Script

1
- Look up there ♪
- What do you see? ♪
Nature and stuff ♪
- Like a rock ♪
- And a tree ♪
Oh, the Great North ♪
Way up here,
you can breathe the air ♪
Catch some fish ♪
Or gaze at a bear ♪
Wow ♪
Oh, the Great North ♪
Here we live, oh, oh ♪
Here we'll stay, oh, whoo ♪
From longest night
to longest day ♪
In the Great North. ♪
Thank you, everyone,
for gathering here today.
As I mentioned
in the email blast,
I have
a big announcement to make.
Oh, hell yeah.
We're doing The Purge.
Delmer, we are not
doing The Purge.
Is Cirque du Soleil coming?
- Did they get my letters?
- Not at all.
As you all know, every year,
Ketchikan brand sausage
holds a Little Mr. Ketchikan
Canned Sausage
Gentlemen's Pageant.
But for the last 30 years,
Lone Moose has been
forbidden to take part
due to an unfortunate incident
in our distant past.
But we've done our time,
and I'm excited to announce
Lone Moose is back.
That's a spicy meatball!
That's right, Delms.
We're once again
hosting a regional pageant
to determine
which Lone Moose boy will go
into the final pageant
in Ketchikan
for a chance to take home
the greasy sausage crown.
Sausage! Sausage!
All Lone Moose boys
between the ages of ten and 18
are eligible to compete.
And the boy who wins
the Lone Moose pageant
will win a year's supply
of canned sausage
for their family,
go on to compete in Ketchikan,
and if they win there,
they get free sausage
for the whole town.
This is my destiny.
I'd kill to win that sausage
for our family.
It's so expensive,
and we all love it so much.
Maybe I'll try to enter, too.
I could pass for 18.
I bet I can still fit into
my old OshKosh B'gosh overalls.
Okay, Ham.
Your application's all set.
Oh, wait,
you forgot my middle name.
Oh, good catch.
Ham Piercebrosnan
- all as one word Tobin.
- Wait, really?
- Mom had some wine during the birth.
- Hey, Dad.
How was the bait and tackle sale
in Death Cliff?
I misunderstood.
It was actually
a bake and tackle sale.
I wound up buying
100 Rice Krispy Treats to help
the Death Cliff High School
football team go to state.
Well, we're filling out
Ham and Moon's applications
for the Little
Mr. Ketchikan Canned
Sausage Gentlemen Pageant.
But-but Lone Moose
is banned from that pageant.
Not anymore.
The elegance of canned sausage
is returning to Lone Moose.
Ooh, Judy.
Maybe we could coach them.
Coaching is where
the real power is at anyway.
We'll be like Babitha and
Margarine on Square Dance Moms.
Yes. I can't wait
to ride the line
between tough love
and cruel sociopath.
Mm-hmm. Every pageant
participant needs a coach
who tells them
they're not hot enough.
Moon, you're not hot enough.
I feel very motivated.
The pageant isn't about hotness.
That's not even
part of the judging system.
Dad, do you know the pageant?
I myself was a link lad.
Of course my dad
was grade-A stage candy.
It was 30 years ago.
I was the favorite that year.
I wore a perfect bratwurst suit
with all the fixings,
handmade by myself.
My walk was perfection.
My talent, unmatched.
But then, we were down
to the second to last event:
the blind sausage taste test.
Another contestant,
jealous of my saug de vivre,
put fast-acting laxatives
in my tasting sausage.
Oh, no.
Oh, yes. And yet,
I still went on to win.
Answering my character
question perfectly
while in a completely
be-pooped suit.
I won the Lone Moose pageant
and was all set to travel
to Ketchikan for the big show.
But when the sausage
company officials
heard about the shenanigans,
they declared
Lone Moose's conduct
to be upsetting, gross,
and against
the spirit of sausage.
I was forbidden from
moving forward to win it all,
and our beloved town
was banned from the pageant
for the next 30 years.
Whoa! So, your buns are the
reason Lone Moose got banned?
Yes.
So, enter if you want, boys,
but remember the meat
can drive you to madness.
Well, it's not gonna affect us.
This pageant sounds like a fun
thing to do with my brother.
And if I don't win,
I want him to win.
Yeah, and if I don't win,
I want Moon to win.
These brat bros got this, Dad.
And this sausage sib
is gonna go ask Mayor Peppers
to raise the competition age
so I can have a shot, too.
You know what they say
nothing's sexier
than a senior sausage.
Well, well, well,
my sausage competitors.
I heard every boy in school
is entering.
Oh, you guys
talking sausage pageant?
FYI, if you're considering
doing Gretchen Wieners'
monologue and song
from Mean Girls the musical,
I would suggest shifting gears.
All right, I guess it's plan B then:
singing the alphabet backwards
while jumping
on a tiny trampoline.
Mayor Peppers!
I'm here to talk to you
about the pageant.
I was wondering
if you could, uh, you know,
raise the age limit.
'Cause sausage
knows no saus-age.
Wolf, no.
Lone Moose just got approved
to send a representative again,
so I can't have any shenanigans.
- But I do need a pageant emcee.
- Okay, okay.
And, uh, what's the deets
on that?
MC Hammer it to me.
The emcee gives a two-minute
introduction to the pageant,
maybe a couple of jokes,
and then announces
each pageant event.
Would that interest you?
Oh, yeah.
I can do that.
Maybe this could be the
beginning of my hosting career.
Honeybee's top three
famous freebies
are all stand-ups and hosts
Jim Gaffigan,
Eddie Murphy,
and our one overlap,
the Microsoft Paperclip.
Oh, you mean Clippy?
Yeah, I'd let that happen.
I'm ready
to represent Lone Moose
on the hallowed
sausage pageant stage.
Okay, sure, Wolf.
Can I point to
random audience members
and say, "This guy knows
what I'm talking about."
Get out of here
before I change my mind.
You've been a great audience.
Good night!
So, first,
there's the parade
of sausage costumes,
then everyone sings
the official pageant theme,
then there's the talent section,
followed by a sudden death
blind sausage taste test.
And then everyone has to answer
a character question,
like "how can the sausage
industry create world peace?"
Easy. You stick a sausage
in the barrels of all the guns.
All right. Hit us with
your ideas for sausage talents.
I could dislocate my shoulder
and pop it back in.
Or
I could sing
"The Star-Spangled Banner."
I was gonna sing "The Star-Spangled Banner."
My God. Neither of you should
sing "The Star-Spangled Banner."
Every boy in Lone Moose
is thinking
of doing that right now.
Anyone can give them sausage.
You have to give them sizzle.
Please, Beef. Help one of your
sons reclaim the sausage throne.
Look, to outsiders,
the Little Mr. Ketchikan Canned
Sausage Gentleman Pageant
may look like a clump of boys
marching around
in sausage costumes.
But those who
truly understand the pageant
know that its participants
are noble Alaskan hunters,
seeking canned sustenance
in our unforgiving landscape.
In the pageant, your
hunting rifle is your charm
and your fishing pole
is also your charm.
Boys, you're not a tube of meat.
You're a tube
of dedication and honor.
Ham, Moon,
let's see your sausage sashays
for the opening parade.
- Ta-da!
- Ta-da!
Let me start
by telling tell you
what you're doing wrong:
everything.
Now, boys, remember
what I told you last night.
Don't talk about
our plans or costumes.
Or strategy
with anyone at school.
Keep your brains in your buns
for the next ten days.
Keep your meat lips zipped.
Ugh, that sounded terrible
but I nonetheless
stand behind it.
- Hey, Wolf.
- Oh, hello there, my lady.
Guess you, uh, uh,
like to walk in doors, huh?
Might as well call you
Christopher "Walking."
That's with an I-N-G.
Burn.
- Wolf, what the hell are you talking about?
- Aw, sorry.
I'm just working out
the kinks on my emcee routine.
On a scale of Gaffigan
to Paperclip, where am I?
It's, uh, perfect.
I mean, what is it?
Great note.
You remember when we watched
that Comedy Central Roast
of William H. Macy
and Schwimmer said
he looked like a big newsie?
Oh, boy, did he get Schwimmed.
Yeah, and Andy Cohen
said his arc on ER flatlined.
He took it with grace, though.
Anyway, that's what
I was thinking I'd do
to my fellow Lone Moosers
roast 'em.
That's a great idea.
I can't wait
to see my man onstage,
insulting everyone we know.
Try me again.
I want to feel the heat.
Okay, here I go.
You, uh uh,
you look like a big newsie.
- Babe.
- And your arc on ER flatlined.
Hmm.
Yeah, maybe you should go on out
and get some practice, sweetie.
Great idea.
I better pick up some sunblock
'cause this town
is about to get burned.
I'm going as my mom's
boyfriend Jamie's
favorite sausage, chorizo.
He went to chef school
for six months.
And he would have graduated
except for the professor chef
was very jealous of him.
My mom stayed up all night
turning a Life Savers sleeping
bag into a sausage costume.
It fits, but it still
clearly says "Life Savers."
So, Moon, now you say
what you're wearing.
Moon, are you serious?
We're your friends.
I thought we were
doing this together.
My dad said you would say that.
Ugh. You're being ridiculous
and you're making no sense.
A smart sausage
keeps his spices in his sack.
That's not a saying.
It's sausage business,
not sausage friends.
I think I will also
go eat by myself.
Miss you guys.
Okay, Wolf,
you can do this.
You are the new king
of Lone Moose insult comedy.
Go over there and light her up.
Hi, Mrs. Tuntley.
Oh, hiya, Wolf.
What brings you
to the post office?
Your hair looks like spaghetti.
Roasted.
Uh, no, it doesn't.
Great point.
Okay, well, uh, have a nice day.
Uh, hey, Santiago.
Uh, did you ever think how, uh,
your name starts with S?
S's look so weird.
It's like your name
begins with a worm.
You're not
the first person to say this.
They used to call me
"worm-name" in school.
Okay. Well, that wasn't as fun
as I thought it was gonna be.
Uh, enjoy your sausage.
Hey, Wolf.
Just about to drive
these stools over to the VFW
for the big pageant.
What can I do for you?
Oh, uh, this place,
uh, sure is, uh
filled with junk.
Ha, ha!
Cleanup on Kyle 4.
Uh, yeah.
It's a junkyard.
Okay, bye.
Great junkyard.
What the Jerry Sein-hell
is wrong with me?
I'm so bad at insult comedy.
Well, we could only afford
a couple basic hot dog costumes
from Costume Castle,
but we'll spruce 'em up.
Now let's run through
the official song.
You put in a dash of heart ♪
And a little bit
of strength ♪
Louder.
Then you grind out a sausage ♪
Of a most impressive
length ♪
Smiles, please.
And that is how
the boys are made ♪
Made, made. ♪
Wait.
Are those really the lyrics?
Hello. It is I, your father,
and I come bearing a gift.
Wow.
What a stunning sausage.
Yes, Moon, this is my
bratwurst with all the fixins.
But, Dad, didn't you poop in it?
Like, a lot?
Yes, but I got it cleaned,
many times.
And now I'm giving it to Moon,
because it's exactly his size.
Oh, so Moon gets the incredible
bratwurst, and I just wear this?
Its mustard just glistens.
Mm-hmm. Yeah.
Sure does.
You're a chunk
off the old tube, son.
Ham, it's not my fault it fits me.
Oh, isn't it?
All that coffee you drink?
Stunting your growth for years?
- Uh-oh.
- I knew this would happen.
Pageant contestants
always turn on each other.
I'm not turning on anyone.
I'm cool.
I feel great
in this stupid hot dog suit.
Yeah. And I feel great
that Ham feels great
in his stupid hot dog suit.
Well, thank you, Moon,
for being so supportive
of how stupid I look.
You know what?
Perhaps it would be better
if me and Moon
didn't work together anymore.
Maybe we should just
stew in our own pans.
Son, you would never
stew a sausage.
You know what, Dad?
Since Moon gets your sacred,
pooped-in costume,
why don't you just work with him
and I'll work with,
uh, Honeybee.
Sounds great.
You stay and keep coaching Moon
- so we can be rivals, too.
- Gotcha.
Ooh, this is so much fun!
It is probably best
that I focus on the younger,
more sausage-y son.
Wow.
All right, Ham.
Let's storm off
to the guesthouse in a huff.
Right behind you.
See you in sausage hell,
Dad and Moon.
We are just two days away
from the sausage event
of the century.
Soon we will learn
which boy in town
will take the sausage crown.
And now, a very different story
about a man who makes
pillow forts for ducks.
I'm almost done
with my sausage stretches,
and then we can
practice some more, Honeybee.
Well, it's been fun
having you stay with us, Ham,
because of your feud
with Dad and Judy and Moon.
Oh, there's Moon now.
- Can you tell him he sucks?
- Sure.
Hey, buddy, Ham says you suck.
Can you tell him he sucks worse?
No problem, buddy.
Moon says you suck worse.
Ugh. "You suck worse."
That's the kind of magic I need
to harness for this comedy gig.
But I'm afraid
my roaster is on the fritz.
Don't worry, babe. You just
got to keep doing it. Remember?
That's what Carlos Mencia said
in his MasterClass.
You're right. Well,
I'm off to do some more zingin'.
And I'm thinking maybe
I try out a catchphrase,
like, uh, how's this:
"Uh, ya think?"
I love a catchphrase.
Like when
Kenny the Internet Guy said
"Somebody needs a reboot."
Uh, ya think?
Okay, Ham, just one more stitch
on this pickle should do it.
Ow! My finger.
Mm. Got to grab a Band-Aid
from the main house.
Tell everyone there
I'll see them in hell again.
Tobin residence,
you got the Bee.
Hi, Honeybee, it's Brian.
I had a last-minute meeting
in Ted's Folly
and thought I'd stop by
before I head out.
Is my brother around?
He's probably hiding from me.
The whole family's in a big feud
because Moon and Ham
both entered
the Little Mr. Ketchikan
Canned Sausage
Gentleman Pageant.
I'm sorry, but did you just say
the Little Mr. Ketchikan
Canned Sausage
Gentleman Pageant?
I did say
the Little Mr. Ketchikan
- Canned Sausage Gentleman Pageant.
- Oh, God.
Honeybee, meet me at the
Russian Restaurant in one hour.
I have to tell you something
very important
about that pageant.
- You're scaring me, Brian.
- Good.
Oh, my God, I love this.
That's what Beef told you, huh?
Yes. He got poop-attacked
by some nasty rival.
What Beef didn't tell you was
that this nasty rival was me.
You diarrhea-ed your own brother?
No.
I was framed.
- By who?
- By Beef himself.
What?
Oh, do go on.
There were two favorites
that year Beef
and myself.
Beef wanted to win so badly,
but then he slipped
during his sausage sashay.
Wow.
And that slip gave me the edge.
Beef saw the trophy
sliding away,
like ground-up intestines
on a conveyor belt.
And that's when
the evil idea hit.
Beef had been eating so much
sausage, his constipation
was out of control.
He had to carry a large bottle
of liquid laxative with him
everywhere he went.
And so he chugged down
the whole bottle.
And then stuck the empty
container in my backpack
to frame me.
It was a brilliant
plan, but then the whole town
was kicked out of the pageant
and banned for 30 years.
Are you telling me this
because you think
we should pull Ham and Moon
out of the pageant
before it tears them apart?
Oh, not at all.
I was thinking
we could laxative Moon,
but with less laxative,
so we don't get fully banned.
Or Ham frames Moon, and
- Brian, no.
- Okay, fine.
But at least let me
stay in town for the weekend
and help you and Ham.
Oh, I brought you something.
Is that
My old costume? Frig yeah.
Welcome to the team,
Uncle Brian.
Thanks for coming, guys.
I really need to test out
my emcee material.
Here goes.
Welcome to
the Little Mr. Ketchikan
Canned Sausage
Gentleman Pageant.
Tonight's pageant is dedicated
to the canned sausage.
And you know
what else is canned?
Mr. Golovkin, 'cause he canned teach.
Incredible.
Oh, now, he's a good man, Wolf.
Tonight we'll see
our town's boys compete,
but before this,
we all mostly competed
to see who could
pass Delmer on the road.
'Cause he drives slow.
'Cause he's old.
- Ouch.
- Zing-ah, zing-ah.
Wolf, I know
edgy stuff is popular,
heck, I'm a huge
Bones fan myself,
but there could be some hurt
feelings if you do these jokes.
But funny hurt feelings.
People love that.
Huh. I guess I just need
to workshop this some more.
Be less mean,
but also absolutely brutal
at the same time.
It's a very delicate dance,
but I can do it.
Well, back
to the comedy lab I go.
We can make a better world
where no one is alone ♪
Where we're all encased
in tubes of love ♪
Like meats and bits of bone ♪
If you mix us all together,
then we all taste the same ♪
And thus
concludes my talent,
fully frosting a sausage
surprise cake in three minutes.
He's ready.
He's ready.
All right, son, let's get in
there and moon the competition.
Brian?
Have you been working with Ham?
You bet your bratwurst I have.
And we're here to win,
so eat it and weep.
Or should I say
eat it and poop?
- Too soon.
- Too soon?
It was an inside job.
You made yourself poop.
Why don't you
take your link and leave?
Make me, meat man.
Guys, no.
We just got unbanned.
You two, separate now.
Oh, I'm not here
to cause trouble.
I'm just here to see
one of my nephews
destroy my other nephew
during a sausage contest.
Standard uncle stuff.
And I'm just here
to support my son.
- Me? Oh, right.
- Not you, Ham.
All right, you two are to sit
on opposite sides of the room.
And I can't believe I'm having
to say this to two adults,
but no giving laxatives
to the children.
We don't need laxatives to win.
But
Ham would need the judges
to take blindness pills.
- Dad! - Father!
- Beef!
I warned you all that
this pageant made me crazy.
Besides, it's just
sausage talk. Grow up.
You should grow up.
Moon is a garbage boy.
Uncle Brian!
Moon,
- you are my enemy
- Right.
- And I do hate you
- Same.
But you are not garbage.
All right, everyone inside.
The sausage show must go on.
Welcome to
the Little Mr. Ketchikan
Canned Sausage
Gentleman Pageant.
I'm Wolf, your hostess
with the roast-ess.
Tonight is dedicated to taste.
And you know who's got
no taste? Londra.
Hey!
Wait.
'Cause she lost
her sense of taste
in a chili pepper accident.
And she has
our empathy and respect.
Aw.
Thank you, Wolf.
Uh, ya think?
There is it, babe.
Tonight, we'll see
our town's boys compete
for a year's supply of sausage.
And you know who else is always
giving it away? Alyson.
- What the
- And by "it" I mean attention
to those in need,
by teaching free art classes
at the Old Moose Senior Home.
It's true.
I also have sex
with a lot of people.
What a roller coaster ride of
feelings you're creating, Wolf.
Thank you, Santiago.
And you know why the Moose
in our town is Lone?
Because this town absolutely blows
Other towns out of the water.
Thank you very much.
Tip your waiters.
And now let
the sausage parade commence.
Are you crying? I'm crying.
My name is Gretchen,
Gretchen Wieners.
And I used to be a mean girl.
But only because
I didn't feel like a seen girl.
But maybe
the new girl Cady is right.
We shouldn't
be mean girls anymore.
Let's be nice instead.
Russell, we need an ingredient.
Um, tarragon?
Ham?
Mm. Paprika.
Correct. Moon?
- Butt.
- Yes. Henry.
Rhubarb. No.
Rhododendron.
Aah!
Ham, we need an ingredient.
Um, xanthan gum?
Nailed it. Moon.
Mm
Hydroxynated butylatazilone?
- Ha!
- No, I'm sorry, that ingredient was outlawed in 1997.
Ham Tobin
takes the tasting round.
Good game, Ham.
- Don't you talk to him!
- Beef.
Sorry.
Welp, Ham's gonna win.
Don't give up.
There's still the interview.
Either way,
we're looking at a full year
of the champagne of sausages
going right down our gullets.
- Ah. Cheers, baby.
- Cheers.
Hey.
- Pretty wild about Dad and Brian, huh?
- I guess.
Sorry I've been so competitive.
I just want you to know
that I would never
make myself poop on stage
and then frame you.
I wouldn't either.
I know everyone else
is enjoying our rivalry,
but I've missed
hanging out with you.
This was supposed to be
a fun thing
that we did together.
Maybe we don't have
the right sausage spirit.
Or maybe we do.
What are you talking about?
I'm talking about showing Dad
and Uncle Brian
and the whole town
how these boys are made.
And that's why we have
to go to war with Winnipeg.
Thank you, Russell.
And now,
give it up for Ham.
Guys, uh, what's
Moon and I are not competing
against each other anymore.
That's right.
We're one sausage,
pressed through
the same grinder.
- Moon, no.
- Oh, come on, Ham.
I'm sorry, but according
to the pageant rules,
you can't compete
in the same costume.
Please go backstage
and unlink yourselves
into separate sausage costumes.
No. The thing about sausages
is they are linked.
And as siblings,
we're also linked.
Everyone in this room
is linked.
And that's the real message
of the pageant.
You may now applaud.
Guys, I said no shenanigans.
We just got unbanned.
Yeah.
This is Alaska.
The lesson is
secure the meat for winter
so we all don't die.
Sure, me and Beef got the town
banned from the pageant
for 30 years,
but we went down fighting.
Go backstage, change into
your sausage costumes
- and finish this.
- Yeah!
Okay. Geez.
Everybody just calm down.
We honestly thought
you would like this.
Ugh.
They just blew it, huh?
I don't know. Maybe
one of them could still win.
Here he stands ♪
The Little Mr. Ketchikan
Canned Sausage Gentleman. ♪
I'm a hero.
I feel like I just
saved Private Ryan,
whoever she is.
That's my best friend up there.
You know what?
It was for the best.
Drama John's gonna bring it home
for the whole town.
And I was able
to steal these sausage cans
off the sausage truck.
Clutch move, Uncle Brian.
I'm sorry if I was
absolutely bonkers
the last few weeks.
I love you both equally.
And that is why
I'm saying this to both of you.
Next year, you boys
really have to be more serious.
Oh, yeah.
I think if I start
stretching tomorrow,
I'll be able to do the splits
by next year for sure.
Ooh. And what about putting
Moon in a real meat suit,
- like Lady Gaga?
- Mm-hmm, mm-hmm.
And just a thought
we could poison
the other competitors.
Now you guys
are getting the hang of it.
My name
is Gretchen, Gretchen Wieners ♪
I used to be so nice,
but then you guessed it ♪
I got meaners ♪
I'm a meany weenie girl ♪
Oh, baby,
I'm a meany weenie girl ♪
But only because I don't feel
like a seen-y girl ♪
My papa was so busy ♪
He never got to know me
or my goldendoodle ♪
But I guess
that's the price you pay ♪
For being the inventor
of the Toaster Strudel ♪
My mama Colleen,
she was also mean ♪
But then again, her own papa ♪
Was pretty busy
inventing polypropylene ♪
It's a cycle, it's a cycle ♪
It's a cycle,
it's a cycle, it's a cycle. ♪