Married with Children s07e17 Episode Script
You Can't Miss
Peg, it's getting kind of late.
Shouldn't you be getting to bed? I'm not going to sleep without you.
We haven't been to bed at the same time in 10 years.
And you notice we haven't had any more children in 10 years.
So I must be doing something right.
Honey, just because we had kids doesn't mean you were doing anything right back then either.
You're sexy when you neuter me that way.
Oh, come on, Al.
We could have fun going to bed together.
You know, doing those things we used to do.
Like you rubbing my tushy till I go to sleep.
Oh, that's what we can do, honey.
Oh, come on.
My tushy is yearning for you.
I wanna be rubbed by you Just you and nobody else but you Peg, I wouldn't rub your tushy if Robin Williams popped out of it and offered me three wishes.
Well, I'm not going to sleep without you.
You know, Peg, I'm I'm a little worried about you.
You look exhausted.
Now, did you have those lines in your face this morning? Breaks my heart, Peg.
You look 100.
Why don't you get a good night's sleep and you'll wake up looking not a day older than my grandmother.
Oh, my God, we stayed up till dawn.
Hey, why are you two up at the same time? Oh, I know.
Don't tell me.
Bud had a nightmare and he crawled into your bed and he went potty.
Honey, Bud is 20 years old, and it's Saturday night.
Now, you know very well that he's fast asleep and has been since 8:00.
Oh, and by the way, Al, did you go in and turn off his flashlight? I wouldn't stick my hand under those covers.
- Oh, my God.
- Lf you know what I mean.
Now, now.
Let's just keep it down.
We don't wanna wake him up.
He'll come down and wanna talk about his problems.
Hey.
Bud was out on a Saturday night.
How did it go, son? Oh, Bud.
It's 3 a.
m.
You must have something to tell us.
Yes, Bud, tell us of your travels in lonely land.
Well, aging maritime toy I went where all cool guys go.
I headed to the Chippendales parking lot and waited for the horny old ladies to come out.
Then I took off my shirt and start gyrating under a lamppost.
Did you get any, son? Yup.
A face full of Mace and a spinning back-kick to the groin.
But I think on the way down I did manage to get a fistful of withered heinie.
- AI, give Bud a high-five.
- No, I can't do it, Peg.
If I could fake it that good, we'd be upstairs right now.
All right.
Here's the plan.
Bud will be home soon.
When he comes in we are gonna pretend that it's Sunday night.
That way when he has no date, he won't feel bad.
You know, because everyone stays home on Sunday.
- Even cool people like us.
- Yeah.
Look, why don't we just get him some starving Third World babe.
You know, like a mail-order bride.
If we stuff her with burgers, she might even stay for a week.
I mean, how long do you really want one anyway? Well, why can't we just let it happen naturally? Some people are just late bloomers.
I myself was a late bloomer.
Well, whatever bloomed must have got picked because I'm looking at some mighty arid country.
Al, we are talking about our son.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I thought I was looking at him.
Al, you've got a dilemma.
We're pretending it's Sunday so theoretically you should be changing your underwear.
Oh, or is this the week you turn it inside out and wear the clean side? Lt's a big decision because it also involves taking off your shoes.
All right, come on, honey.
Now, look like it's Sunday.
That's right.
That says Sunday better than skipping church.
Where's Bud? I wanted to tell him that I've got a big date tonight.
I love ruining his Saturday nights.
Oh, my God, it 's Sunday? I've gotta be at work.
How did I lose a day? I must have magnesia.
What did Gilligan do when he had magnesia? Oh, my God, I don't remember.
Gadzooks, I'm losing my short-term mammaries.
What's going on? The old " let's convince Bud it's Sunday to mask his shame" routine? Well, Dad, before you hurriedly change your underwear I think you guys should meet my date.
Why, she's just lovely, isn't she? She must really like you, Bud going out on a Sunday and all.
No need taking chances, eh, Bud? Look, you morons this is not another imaginary date.
I was gonna turn on the TV.
That's where you'll see her.
He had it bad for Ginger, but now he likes Mary Ann.
Hush, fossils, and watch.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Hi, I'm Adam Gold.
I'll bet my natural mother's sorry she put me up for adoption now aren't you, Mom? Thank you.
Anyway, welcome to You Can't Miss! the show that guarantees that one of our manly contestants can't miss.
So let's meet the guys.
Remember the rules: Only guys who've had sex two times or less are eligible.
How can we prove it? Well, wait till you see them.
Let's meet our first hunk.
He's a crossing guard from Skokie, Illinois Henry Fudderman.
Henry, tell us how many times you've scored.
- Once.
- Okay, once.
Let's meet our next hunk.
He's a movie usher from Baraboo, Wisconsin.
Eugene Smelt.
Eugene, tell us how many times you've done the deed.
One and a half, Adam.
But I'm not sure about the one.
Okay, Eugene.
And our final he-man is an A student from Chicago and the only one of our hunks who still lives at home.
Bud Bundy.
Okay, Bud, fill us in.
How many times have you had sex? With actual people? Two, Adam.
On the show they actually believed that.
Welcome back to the show.
And now it's time to meet tonight's tramp.
Say hi to Candy Lapinski.
Hi, Candy, it 's great to have you with us.
Yeah, right.
Now, the rules to our show are as easy as Candy.
After a brief question-and-answer period Candy will select a date from among our three stallions.
For you viewers who may be wondering why a woman like this would go out with one of these losers, the answer is very simple: We give her a $1000.
And next week, after her dream date she'll have the opportunity to go to Bermuda with one of our three nerds or our very own Rodrigo.
I love you all.
Okay, Candy, it's question time.
Now, what is your first question? Number one how would you build the perfect woman? Let's see.
She'd have my mother's eyes and my mother's breasts and my father's Yucko.
Number two? I already have built the perfect woman out of gummy bears.
You wanna see? - Number three? - Well, Candy as far as I'm concerned, you are the perfect woman and I'm the perfect man.
So, what say we cut the preliminaries and create the perfect simultaneous big-O.
Well, Candy, what do you think about that? Can I see Rodrigo again? And that means we're out of time.
So it's decision time for you, Candy.
Who's it gonna be? Hunk-a-rama number one number two or number three? - Number three.
- Yes! Candy, meet your date, Bud Bundy.
Dad, look where I am.
Like I give a damn what you think.
I've got a date with her next Saturday night and you'll be with each other.
Oh, my God, oh, my God.
I'm late for work.
Oh, God.
Listen, if my boss calls, for God's sakes don't tell him I forgot what day it was.
I don't wanna get a stupid rep.
It's not good for my image as a waitress.
You know, I wish somebody would think to write down all the days in a row on a big piece of paper so you know what day it is.
You know, maybe even put the month on it, you know like a calendar or something.
Come to bed, Al.
We haven't slept for days.
I am not going to bed unless you go with me.
And you, my friend, are getting sleepy.
Look how heavy those eyelids are getting.
It won't work, Peg.
Because much like the rest of your body your lids are drooping more than mine.
You're drifting.
You're getting sleepy.
This has been the worst Sunday of my life.
And Wednesday, which I thought was Tuesday was no picnic either.
I'm telling you, something's up.
It's Sunday but I saw the mailman.
So I picked up a newspaper.
Said it was Saturday.
I got suspicious, so I went to church.
Nobody was there.
Which makes me think I'm right.
It is Sunday.
And yet, Meet The Press, which I watch religiously, wasn't on.
I'm telling you, it's a giant conspiracy.
You know, like who killed that movie president guy, JFK.
The church.
The feds.
The networks.
They're all in on it.
But I'll get them.
The same way J.
Edgar Hoover got everybody: By wearing a red dress.
Well, I'm back from my game-show date.
Did you get any, son? No.
But I'll be getting plenty soon because it'll be me and Candy on the dandy, sandy Caribbean.
All that's left is we have to go back on the show and she chooses between me and that latent Latin, Rodrigo.
Honey, I have been chosen to sensitively broach the question which is on all our lips: What on God's green earth would make you think that anyone including your mother, would choose you over Rodrigo? I'd choose Rodrigo.
Hell, I'd choose Rodrigo.
Hell, I'd choose Rodrigo over your mother.
And now, welcome to You Can't Miss! Hey, this isn't supposed to be on tonight.
Well, I'll just write them down in my conspiracy book right after Robin Leach.
Hi again, I'm Adam Gold and we're here to see something we've waited a whole week to find out.
Who will huge-knockered airhead Candy Lapinski pick for her pleasure cruise? Bud Bundy or our own beautiful Rodrigo? Yeah, there's a tough call, huh, folks? Candy, haul it on out here for us.
Candy, you make a lovely couple.
- Candy, you remember Bud.
- No.
Okay, Bud, good luck to you.
And, Candy, your choice please and you and Rodrigo can be off to the Caribbean.
Hold your lousy consolation prize, you poor man's Chuck Woolery.
Now, before the lovely Candy makes her decision I have something to say to her.
Well, talk about the little engine that could.
Well, go for it, big guy.
But remember, no woman has ever not chosen Rodrigo.
Enough, crones.
You too, Mom.
Candy, this is all I have to say: Let's talk about women and the wrong choices they make.
This is the wrong choice and I'll tell you why.
He'll treat you like dirt.
He'll disappear for days.
He'll lie to you.
He'll cheat on you.
Everything I would do if I looked like him.
But I'm here for the duration, baby.
And the best thing about me is l've never had anybody as good as you.
He has.
You know I haven't.
You don't have to worry about where I've been because I'm a two-time-or-less.
It's up to you.
Two minutes with a god who will dump you or a lifetime with a guy who will worship you as a goddess.
Your choice is clear.
I'll take Rodrigo.
Enjoy your car wax, punk.
Hey.
Who wants to see some of my car wax? I won it for making an ass out of myself in front of 20 million people.
Cool, huh? Bud, I can't believe it.
You've got messages.
From girls.
A whole bunch.
Look.
You were so pathetic on TV that you actually touched people.
Pretty girls all over town want you bad.
- Bud.
- Choose me.
Hi, Bud.
I saw you on TV.
- Choose me.
- No.
Choose me and I'll hurt you more than any of these girls.
Wait.
It 's not just women who make the wrong choices.
I think you're gorgeous.
You're my Rodrigo.
Choose me.
She'll hurt you.
I'll be good to you.
She'll cheat on you.
I'll be faithful.
She'll spend your money.
You can spend mine.
I'll worship you because I know how great you are inside and out.
What's your choice? Let 's go.
Shouldn't you be getting to bed? I'm not going to sleep without you.
We haven't been to bed at the same time in 10 years.
And you notice we haven't had any more children in 10 years.
So I must be doing something right.
Honey, just because we had kids doesn't mean you were doing anything right back then either.
You're sexy when you neuter me that way.
Oh, come on, Al.
We could have fun going to bed together.
You know, doing those things we used to do.
Like you rubbing my tushy till I go to sleep.
Oh, that's what we can do, honey.
Oh, come on.
My tushy is yearning for you.
I wanna be rubbed by you Just you and nobody else but you Peg, I wouldn't rub your tushy if Robin Williams popped out of it and offered me three wishes.
Well, I'm not going to sleep without you.
You know, Peg, I'm I'm a little worried about you.
You look exhausted.
Now, did you have those lines in your face this morning? Breaks my heart, Peg.
You look 100.
Why don't you get a good night's sleep and you'll wake up looking not a day older than my grandmother.
Oh, my God, we stayed up till dawn.
Hey, why are you two up at the same time? Oh, I know.
Don't tell me.
Bud had a nightmare and he crawled into your bed and he went potty.
Honey, Bud is 20 years old, and it's Saturday night.
Now, you know very well that he's fast asleep and has been since 8:00.
Oh, and by the way, Al, did you go in and turn off his flashlight? I wouldn't stick my hand under those covers.
- Oh, my God.
- Lf you know what I mean.
Now, now.
Let's just keep it down.
We don't wanna wake him up.
He'll come down and wanna talk about his problems.
Hey.
Bud was out on a Saturday night.
How did it go, son? Oh, Bud.
It's 3 a.
m.
You must have something to tell us.
Yes, Bud, tell us of your travels in lonely land.
Well, aging maritime toy I went where all cool guys go.
I headed to the Chippendales parking lot and waited for the horny old ladies to come out.
Then I took off my shirt and start gyrating under a lamppost.
Did you get any, son? Yup.
A face full of Mace and a spinning back-kick to the groin.
But I think on the way down I did manage to get a fistful of withered heinie.
- AI, give Bud a high-five.
- No, I can't do it, Peg.
If I could fake it that good, we'd be upstairs right now.
All right.
Here's the plan.
Bud will be home soon.
When he comes in we are gonna pretend that it's Sunday night.
That way when he has no date, he won't feel bad.
You know, because everyone stays home on Sunday.
- Even cool people like us.
- Yeah.
Look, why don't we just get him some starving Third World babe.
You know, like a mail-order bride.
If we stuff her with burgers, she might even stay for a week.
I mean, how long do you really want one anyway? Well, why can't we just let it happen naturally? Some people are just late bloomers.
I myself was a late bloomer.
Well, whatever bloomed must have got picked because I'm looking at some mighty arid country.
Al, we are talking about our son.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I thought I was looking at him.
Al, you've got a dilemma.
We're pretending it's Sunday so theoretically you should be changing your underwear.
Oh, or is this the week you turn it inside out and wear the clean side? Lt's a big decision because it also involves taking off your shoes.
All right, come on, honey.
Now, look like it's Sunday.
That's right.
That says Sunday better than skipping church.
Where's Bud? I wanted to tell him that I've got a big date tonight.
I love ruining his Saturday nights.
Oh, my God, it 's Sunday? I've gotta be at work.
How did I lose a day? I must have magnesia.
What did Gilligan do when he had magnesia? Oh, my God, I don't remember.
Gadzooks, I'm losing my short-term mammaries.
What's going on? The old " let's convince Bud it's Sunday to mask his shame" routine? Well, Dad, before you hurriedly change your underwear I think you guys should meet my date.
Why, she's just lovely, isn't she? She must really like you, Bud going out on a Sunday and all.
No need taking chances, eh, Bud? Look, you morons this is not another imaginary date.
I was gonna turn on the TV.
That's where you'll see her.
He had it bad for Ginger, but now he likes Mary Ann.
Hush, fossils, and watch.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Hi, I'm Adam Gold.
I'll bet my natural mother's sorry she put me up for adoption now aren't you, Mom? Thank you.
Anyway, welcome to You Can't Miss! the show that guarantees that one of our manly contestants can't miss.
So let's meet the guys.
Remember the rules: Only guys who've had sex two times or less are eligible.
How can we prove it? Well, wait till you see them.
Let's meet our first hunk.
He's a crossing guard from Skokie, Illinois Henry Fudderman.
Henry, tell us how many times you've scored.
- Once.
- Okay, once.
Let's meet our next hunk.
He's a movie usher from Baraboo, Wisconsin.
Eugene Smelt.
Eugene, tell us how many times you've done the deed.
One and a half, Adam.
But I'm not sure about the one.
Okay, Eugene.
And our final he-man is an A student from Chicago and the only one of our hunks who still lives at home.
Bud Bundy.
Okay, Bud, fill us in.
How many times have you had sex? With actual people? Two, Adam.
On the show they actually believed that.
Welcome back to the show.
And now it's time to meet tonight's tramp.
Say hi to Candy Lapinski.
Hi, Candy, it 's great to have you with us.
Yeah, right.
Now, the rules to our show are as easy as Candy.
After a brief question-and-answer period Candy will select a date from among our three stallions.
For you viewers who may be wondering why a woman like this would go out with one of these losers, the answer is very simple: We give her a $1000.
And next week, after her dream date she'll have the opportunity to go to Bermuda with one of our three nerds or our very own Rodrigo.
I love you all.
Okay, Candy, it's question time.
Now, what is your first question? Number one how would you build the perfect woman? Let's see.
She'd have my mother's eyes and my mother's breasts and my father's Yucko.
Number two? I already have built the perfect woman out of gummy bears.
You wanna see? - Number three? - Well, Candy as far as I'm concerned, you are the perfect woman and I'm the perfect man.
So, what say we cut the preliminaries and create the perfect simultaneous big-O.
Well, Candy, what do you think about that? Can I see Rodrigo again? And that means we're out of time.
So it's decision time for you, Candy.
Who's it gonna be? Hunk-a-rama number one number two or number three? - Number three.
- Yes! Candy, meet your date, Bud Bundy.
Dad, look where I am.
Like I give a damn what you think.
I've got a date with her next Saturday night and you'll be with each other.
Oh, my God, oh, my God.
I'm late for work.
Oh, God.
Listen, if my boss calls, for God's sakes don't tell him I forgot what day it was.
I don't wanna get a stupid rep.
It's not good for my image as a waitress.
You know, I wish somebody would think to write down all the days in a row on a big piece of paper so you know what day it is.
You know, maybe even put the month on it, you know like a calendar or something.
Come to bed, Al.
We haven't slept for days.
I am not going to bed unless you go with me.
And you, my friend, are getting sleepy.
Look how heavy those eyelids are getting.
It won't work, Peg.
Because much like the rest of your body your lids are drooping more than mine.
You're drifting.
You're getting sleepy.
This has been the worst Sunday of my life.
And Wednesday, which I thought was Tuesday was no picnic either.
I'm telling you, something's up.
It's Sunday but I saw the mailman.
So I picked up a newspaper.
Said it was Saturday.
I got suspicious, so I went to church.
Nobody was there.
Which makes me think I'm right.
It is Sunday.
And yet, Meet The Press, which I watch religiously, wasn't on.
I'm telling you, it's a giant conspiracy.
You know, like who killed that movie president guy, JFK.
The church.
The feds.
The networks.
They're all in on it.
But I'll get them.
The same way J.
Edgar Hoover got everybody: By wearing a red dress.
Well, I'm back from my game-show date.
Did you get any, son? No.
But I'll be getting plenty soon because it'll be me and Candy on the dandy, sandy Caribbean.
All that's left is we have to go back on the show and she chooses between me and that latent Latin, Rodrigo.
Honey, I have been chosen to sensitively broach the question which is on all our lips: What on God's green earth would make you think that anyone including your mother, would choose you over Rodrigo? I'd choose Rodrigo.
Hell, I'd choose Rodrigo.
Hell, I'd choose Rodrigo over your mother.
And now, welcome to You Can't Miss! Hey, this isn't supposed to be on tonight.
Well, I'll just write them down in my conspiracy book right after Robin Leach.
Hi again, I'm Adam Gold and we're here to see something we've waited a whole week to find out.
Who will huge-knockered airhead Candy Lapinski pick for her pleasure cruise? Bud Bundy or our own beautiful Rodrigo? Yeah, there's a tough call, huh, folks? Candy, haul it on out here for us.
Candy, you make a lovely couple.
- Candy, you remember Bud.
- No.
Okay, Bud, good luck to you.
And, Candy, your choice please and you and Rodrigo can be off to the Caribbean.
Hold your lousy consolation prize, you poor man's Chuck Woolery.
Now, before the lovely Candy makes her decision I have something to say to her.
Well, talk about the little engine that could.
Well, go for it, big guy.
But remember, no woman has ever not chosen Rodrigo.
Enough, crones.
You too, Mom.
Candy, this is all I have to say: Let's talk about women and the wrong choices they make.
This is the wrong choice and I'll tell you why.
He'll treat you like dirt.
He'll disappear for days.
He'll lie to you.
He'll cheat on you.
Everything I would do if I looked like him.
But I'm here for the duration, baby.
And the best thing about me is l've never had anybody as good as you.
He has.
You know I haven't.
You don't have to worry about where I've been because I'm a two-time-or-less.
It's up to you.
Two minutes with a god who will dump you or a lifetime with a guy who will worship you as a goddess.
Your choice is clear.
I'll take Rodrigo.
Enjoy your car wax, punk.
Hey.
Who wants to see some of my car wax? I won it for making an ass out of myself in front of 20 million people.
Cool, huh? Bud, I can't believe it.
You've got messages.
From girls.
A whole bunch.
Look.
You were so pathetic on TV that you actually touched people.
Pretty girls all over town want you bad.
- Bud.
- Choose me.
Hi, Bud.
I saw you on TV.
- Choose me.
- No.
Choose me and I'll hurt you more than any of these girls.
Wait.
It 's not just women who make the wrong choices.
I think you're gorgeous.
You're my Rodrigo.
Choose me.
She'll hurt you.
I'll be good to you.
She'll cheat on you.
I'll be faithful.
She'll spend your money.
You can spend mine.
I'll worship you because I know how great you are inside and out.
What's your choice? Let 's go.