Married with Children s08e05 Episode Script

Al, why you watching TV with the sound off? It's the new rap channel, Peg.
I hate this when I hear it on the radio, but now that I see it I can appreciate its profound statement.
Well, what's that one called? It's called "Pump That Rump.
" I'm really into it.
Well, if history teaches us anything, you'll be out of it in seven seconds.
Oh, God, what a day.
I made an appearance as the Verminator at this elementary school.
They make me walk through this metal detector.
I've got enough poison strapped to my back to dust an entire rain forest and they wanna know why I'm carrying a toenail clipper.
Then there's the pat-down.
First by the principal then by the school nurse then again by the principal while the school nurse watched.
Finally, I make it into the classroom.
After talking the substitute teacher in from the ledge I go to the cafeteria where I taught the kids how to kill roaches, rats and something they call "sloppy joes.
" You know, it is a wonder I got out of there unscathed.
I'm telling you, that is the last time I appear at a Catholic school.
Peggy.
Guess what happened at the bank today.
A hold-up man gave you his mask to wear? Turn that disgusting thing off.
Here, watch this.
Steel Magnolias.
What's Boris Karloff doing in a dress? That's Shirley MacLaine, you baco-bit.
Well, I owe Boris an apology.
You owe everything an apology.
Anyway, Peggy, those wormless weasels at the bank want me to be the speaker at the next shareholders' meeting.
Well, that's a good thing, isn't it? No.
Not when you have to tell them the bank's in trouble.
How much trouble? We backed Last Action Hero.
- Oh, I'm so sorry.
- Thanks.
And to cut costs, we may even have to lay off some employees.
Marcie, as someone who's been to your bank I certainly hope you keep those 75 vice presidents and lay off those pesky two tellers.
You know, the ones who work a cool half hour apiece on payday.
You know, Al, you can avoid the wait to cash your paycheque because the hot dog vendor outside always has a coin dispenser.
Marcie, why are you here? I wanted to talk to Peggy privately.
No, no.
Why here on Earth? I'll handle this, Marcie.
You come in here to my house and annoy me with your sad little hen There it is.
There's no sound.
No sound to us humans.
Come on, Marcie.
So tell me what's wrong with speaking to the shareholders of the bank.
Well, I'm terrified of speaking in public.
It all started with a terrible childhood incident.
This isn't your Uncle No-Pocket story, is it? No.
This was in the first grade when I had to give a talk on why I love the Pledge of Allegiance.
Well, anyway, I was right in the middle of my speech when I looked down and saw the biggest, ugliest cockroach which ever spewed from the bowels of the Earth, crawling up my little leg.
Well, I screamed like a lunch whistle and ran around the room tearing off my dress revealing my " Hey, hey, we're the Monkees" panties to the entire room.
Well, it may not surprise you that boys can be extremely cruel at times like this.
They spent the rest of the school year following me around saying: "Can Davy come out and play?" But one night I showed them.
I showed them all.
There was a class field trip to Mount Rushmore.
I told them I was too sick to make it.
The bus was barrelling down a rain-slicked highway.
It would have been hard to stop even if the bus had functioning brakes but they never laughed at me or my panties ever again.
Well, that was a lovely story.
I don't think you'll be needing any more of this.
Marcie, I know who could help you with your public-speaking problem.
It's Dr.
Angela.
She is the best radio psychiatrist in the city.
And has quite an informative car-repair show too.
She's helped me with some of my problems.
Although, obviously not all of them.
Yo, video channel? Yeah, do you take requests? I'd like "Rump Shaker" "Gangster Booty" and "Put More Ass on That Lass.
" My age? I'm 15.
I need parental permission? Just a minute, please.
Tell him it's okay.
It's okay.
He's over 40.
Why'd you tell him my real age? They already knew your real age.
They wanted to know your IQ.
But they will play them, right? Oh, wipe your chin.
Peggy, I just got off the phone with Dr.
Angela.
She was a great help.
Pig.
Here.
Watch this.
Fried Green Tomatoes.
Well, what's Mel Tormé doing in a dress? That's Kathy Bates, you potted plant.
Anyway, Peggy, Dr.
Angela is a gem.
I told her about my fear of speaking in public so she asked is there any time I'm not afraid of speaking.
And I said, "Why, yes.
During sex I talk, yell, scream" Hey, excuse me! You know, I'm planning on having dinner later.
Well, I plan on having sex later so I guess we'll both be cooking for ourselves.
Go on, Marcie.
You were screaming? Oh, yes.
So Dr.
Angela suggested that I try something called transference.
Whenever I'm gonna have to speak in a scary setting I just pretend I'm in a more relaxed one.
Like my bedroom.
And presto, I can speak in public.
Dr.
Angela just told me I should take a lover.
But I'm afraid we'd wake Al.
Anyway, since you're the one that helped me through this it would mean a lot if you would come and hear me speak Saturday.
- Oh, I'd be delighted.
- Thanks.
Now, see? I told you you'd like this movie.
I'm glad to see you're finally growing up.
You know, Peg, that Kathy Bates has a mighty fine butt.
Why does she waste her time making movies? So we still say, don't give up on Last Action Hero just yet.
It still hasn't been released in Albania or Zimbabwe.
Everything else, however, seems to be fine.
Wonderful.
Never better.
And now, delivering the emergency state-of-the-bank address vice president in charge of something or other Miss Marcie D'Arcy.
Good afternoon.
My, there are a lot of you out there today.
The last time I saw this many people in a bank I closed my window and went to lunch.
All kidding aside I'm here to report some bad news.
Because of some unfortunate investments the bank is being forced to downsize.
But the good news is all indications suggest that the terrible economy is going to get bedroom Butter.
Better.
As you can see when the Federal Reserve Board eases restrictions interest rates fall, but when it tightens interest rates rise.
Oh, my God.
Al, something's wrong.
I've never seen Marcie act like this.
You wanna see acting, Peg, check this out.
For years, the Fed held back and interest rates rose and rose and rose.
Eight percent, 10 percent, up and up.
Jefferson, have you ever seen Marcie do this before? Not in public.
Unless you count the Skyway at Disneyland.
- You mean that she's about to have - Big time.
It must be that transference thing that Dr.
Angela told her about.
I just hope she's near the end of her speech.
I guess not.
Then when the rates rose as high as they possibly could and the economy could take no more suddenly the Fed began pumping in money faster and faster.
- Here we go.
- Oh, yes, yes, yes.
Oh, Jefferson! Oh, Steve! Oh, Jamal.
I hope this news was as good for you as it was for me.
Good day.
So that's what one looks like.
Oh, Marcie, relax.
It happened.
It could have happened to anyone.
Well, it couldn't have happened to me.
Well, it could, but we can't afford the pony rides anymore.
Don't you understand my pain? I'm a businesswoman.
We're not allowed to go flopping around on the floor like a mudskipper.
At the very least, it's considered unprofessional.
You know, this is gonna cost me my job.
I'm ruined.
- Marcie, the bank just called.
- Oh, I knew it.
You're getting a raise.
And they're gonna loan you out to deliver bad news to other corporations.
At $5000 a pop.
So to speak.
Well, I don't know.
This goes against my principles.
What do you think, Peggy? Marcie, for five grand, not only would I do it but I'd do it in the corn fields on Hee Haw.
Al, Marcie's making another appearance today so, what do you say we have a candlelight dinner and take in a speech? It doesn't work anymore, Peg.
What doesn't work? It.
Well, how can you tell? I've been reading Playboy, Big 'Uns, Little 'Uns, In Between 'Uns, nothing.
Then I remembered it hasn't worked since the afternoon I saw Marcie do that horrible thing at the bank meeting.
Marcie killed it, Peg.
You made it sick, but Marcie killed it.
Well, I guess then we can just put it behind us and get on with the rest of our lives.
Well, Peg, what will you do? Well, I'll be okay.
I'll just keep going, and going, and going.
Great news, Dad.
- Tuition is going up at school.
- How much? Hundreds.
Thousands.
Who cares? The point is, Mrs.
D'Arcy is gonna give us the news.
Oh, man.
Now, son, you're talking about this like it's a good thing.
Remember when you were younger and I told you never to stare directly at the sun or Grandma and you did? Well, this is like staring at Grandma in the sun.
Or your father in the shower.
If we're speaking hypothetically.
Peg, I'm trying to have a talk with my son.
Isn't Oprah doing a show on women with chafed thighs who cause forest fires this week? No.
You made that up.
Didn't you? I know you did.
Well, I'm gonna go check the Oprah hotline.
Son.
Now, I realize that my advice to you in the past has been, well, a little shaky.
You mean like " Be yourself, people will like you"? Exactly.
But son you do not wish to see this woman in the throes of passion.
Please believe me.
It's killed before.
It will kill again.
Sorry, Dad, but I got a pack of condoms and a girl who thinks Urkle's sexy.
I'm going.
Bud, got a question for you.
I don't know what to wear to my speech tonight.
I need something hip, cool, collegiate.
What do you suggest? Well, it depends.
Now, are you gonna be backlit? Can no one hear my cries? Okay, Marcie.
I'm ready to go to the college.
- Honey, are you okay? - No.
I'm not okay.
Look, Marcie, I'm a man.
I have needs.
I am tired of everyone else having sex but me.
And Al and Peggy.
And probably Bud.
Listen, Jefferson, if you're going to talk about personal matters then let's go someplace private.
Now, what's bothering you? You've been having such a good time on stage.
You've forgotten about us.
Oh, Sugar Tush.
I always think about you when I'm up there.
But it's not the same.
Marcie I miss our rodeo nights.
The nights when you come out in your teddies and your batting gloves.
I have been neglecting my little Fluff Bunny.
Look, Marcie, your speeches are your career.
You're making good money.
I shouldn't stand in your way.
I'll just go home and dream of you totally naked swarming all over me.
I've got a better idea.
Before I go to the college, how about we go home and I give you your own private little speech.
Would you talk to me, Marcie? Talk to me.
- Four score and seven years ago - Oh, yes! our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation.
Emancipate me! Set me free! Well, my body's dead but I suppose a detached head could live on.
So you had Dr.
Angela reverse the procedure? Yes.
So I can no longer speak in public but at least I can please my Jefferson.
- Where is Jefferson? - In the emergency room being treated for dehydration.
Yeah, I had my 15 minutes of fame and made a lot of money but I guess, all things considered, everything turned out okay.
Yes, welcome back to Dr.
Angela's loser line.
Go ahead, next caller.
Yes, Dr.
Angela.
My name is Sal Undy.
And I'm having a little ubble-tray with my enis-pay.