Married with Children s11e20 Episode Script

Hey, pass me the chips.
Sure.
Go long.
- Three eighty-five.
Hut, hut.
- Face left.
Face left.
One, two, three.
He goes for the Hail Mary.
- AI? Al, are you all right? - I'm fine.
I'm fine.
Come on, buddy.
The NFL draft is on.
Let's go, let's go.
In the first round, the San Francisco 49ers select Jamal Sanders from Texas A&M.
Oh, man, look at that.
That could've been me.
I guess we'll never know because you only played high school ball.
Hey, at least I was man enough to suit up for it.
Hey, I suited up, and I played at every game.
You were in the band.
Yeah.
Yeah, that's right.
And more than once, I played hurt.
You know, the glockenspiel is a cruel mistress.
Al.
Honey, you broke the The flat thing.
It's the dinner table, Peg.
You know, as in cooking dinner and serving it to your family.
Well, in that case, thanks for getting rid of it, honey.
Man, what I wouldn't give to play for the Chicago Bears.
I would sell my soul to play for the Bears.
Good afternoon.
I'm here to fix your television.
Nothing wrong with my television.
You know, my wife needs some fixing too.
If you're a repairman, where's your butt crack? My tail's covering it.
I'm Lucifer.
Peg, one of your relatives.
Peg? Jefferson? They can't hear you.
I've frozen them.
Hey, these are two of the laziest people on Earth.
You want to impress me? Make them get jobs.
I'm the devil, not a genie.
I still don't think he's seeing my point.
Maybe this will help.
Oh, so you're the devil.
What do you want? Your soul, Mr.
Bundy.
Deal.
Gee, Tom Arnold put up more of a fight.
Okay.
So you can have my soul but I get to play for the Chicago Bears and take them to a Super Bowl.
Before I go, I'd better unfreeze them.
Wait a minute.
Wait a minute.
Go ahead.
Oh, Jesus.
Is something burning? Has Mom been ironing? No, nothing as unusual as that.
I sold my soul to the devil.
Cool.
For riches and diamonds? Kelly, we're talking about Dad's soul.
For a Canadian penny? No, pumpkin.
Daddy's gonna be the new star fullback for the Chicago Bears.
Right.
And I sold my soul so I could be a Sports Illustrated swimsuit model.
You'd have to sell every soul in China for that, Peg.
Guys, look.
Daddy's on TV.
And in the first round the Chicago Bears select, from James K.
Polk High School AI Bundy.
Hey, guys, I hope you're not still mad at me for making you look bad at practice.
Okay.
So you had a few good days.
You're still old and flabby.
And you smell like BENGAY.
And because of you, we all have jock itch.
Hey, look.
Look, there's Daddy.
Everybody wave.
This is the last time we'll see Al walking.
You are so lucky, Peggy.
You're finally going to get handicap parking.
Get your Red Hots.
Devil dogs.
Devilled eggs.
Devilled ham.
Smokey.
Yogi.
Boo Boo.
What are you doing? Trying to get the Bears' attention.
No, no, no.
I'm sorry.
Shoehorn Bundy will not endorse any products he doesn't use.
No, it's not just your deodorant, it's any deodorant.
Hello, PoliGrip? Yeah.
What's your best offer? I said, "Show me the money.
" You're not even showing me the wallet.
Bundy, Bundy, Bundy.
Bundy, Bundy, Bundy.
So, Al, it's the final moments before the start of the Super Bowl.
You've had a miraculous Cinderella season.
The whole world is wondering: - How did you do it? - I sold my soul.
Dedication.
Well, to you young people watching out there, and to you old people too anything is possible if you put your soul into it.
- Give them hell, Shoehorn.
- Thanks, J.
B.
Congratulations, Mr.
Bundy.
You did it.
Thanks to you, Lu, I'm realizing my dream.
I'm playing in the Super Bowl.
As I'm sure your wife has said to you many times before Mr.
Bundy, not so fast.
- What? - I agreed to let you take the Bears to the Super Bowl.
I didn't agree to let you play in it.
But that's not fair.
I'm the devil.
Well, I'm playing, and you can't stop me.
Well, go ahead.
But you'll be playing without my help.
I don't need your help.
I'm Al "Shoehorn" Bundy, NFL Rookie of the Year and spokesman for Super PoliGrip, now available in barbecue.
It's your funeral.
Win one for the Reaper.
- Hey, you okay, Bundy? - I'm fine.
Okay, 36 blast on three.
Who's talking? Kramer, is that you? Speak up.
Okay.
Everybody got that? Ready? Break.
Set.
Blue 48.
Hut, hut.
Gosh, what a bone-crushing hit.
Oh, but, you know, you hate to see something like that.
Hey, let's take a look at the replay.
- He's not moving.
- Oh, my God.
He's either dead or having sex.
That was a hell of a hit.
Ironic choice of words.
What's happening? We're in the hell-evator.
Going down.
But I was supposed to go to Disneyland.
Jeez, it's hot as hell down here.
Oh, yeah, right.
As a frequent liar, you' re eligible for our express check-in.
And how long will you be staying? Oh, forever.
I hope you enjoy your room here at Club Dead.
It overlooks the cesspool.
And here's your complimentary Bloody Mary.
Careful.
I think some bone got through the juicer.
Now for my favourite part, your itinerary of eternal torments.
For the next millennium you'll be dining exclusively on the most hideous food known to man: Weenie Tots.
I love those.
Really.
Well, what you don't know is that a steady diet of Weenie Tots will cause you to spend eternity in the bathroom.
Why do you think I love them? All right, Mr.
Bundy.
Since you find hell such a picnic how about this? For the rest of eternity, you'll never see your family again.
This is heaven.
Could it be the letter P? Hangman.
I win.
It's French fries, you idiot.
You're not too smart, are you, Nap? Mr.
Bundy, your permanent accommodations are now ready.
Oh, great, great.
I'm ready, Lu.
Oh, hey, Lu.
What's down there? Speciality suites for IRS auditors meter maids, infomercial producers, mimes.
Well, here we are.
I hope this is to your liking.
Oh, I'm sure it will be.
Hey! What are you guys doing down here? Well, we were taking your body to the dump I mean, the cemetery.
- when the brakes went out on the Dodge.
Al Bundy, this is all your fault.
I should be in heaven right now having sex with young Elvis.
Then it wouldn't be heaven for him anymore, though, would it? Are you happy now? No.
Not until you're as miserable as you can possibly be.
How can it get any more miserable than this? Of course.
What happened? Well, I was dancing next to your grave I slipped on some confetti, and the next thing you know, here I am.
How'd you get here? There was a conga line Lu, listen to me.
I'm begging you.
Can't you put me somewhere else? Hey, I hear J.
Edgar Hoover has a queen-size bed.
Have a nice eternity.
You go to here, you bastard.
Peg, I'm home.
Al, shut the door.
You're letting all the flames in.
Okay, home shoppers.
Call now to get in on this lifetime supply of bonbons for only five cents.
Damn hooves.
They're just a pain in the ass.
Tell me about it, Peg.
I don't know how much more Isis can take.
It's hard being gentle with claws.
Well, here they are for the 7 millionth nine hundred and sixteenth thousand, forty-second time.
Come on, Al, you know the drill.
We can't leave until you repeat the insult.
Okay.
Look who's crossed the road.
I'd say it was a chicken, but it doesn't have any breasts just nuggets.
And it takes 10 of them to make a decent meal.
Hey, is Kelly home? I'm ready.
I'm ready.
Hey, I still have a nice body.
God, I hate being a gargoyle.
If anybody needs me, I'll be perched on the roof.
I can't take this anymore.
No, these plans for the O.
J.
plaza are all wrong.
The F.
Lee Bailey bar goes here and the Kato Kaelin lounge goes over there.
Get it right.
Hey, Lu, I want my soul back.
"I want my soul back.
I want my soul back.
" That's all I hear from you and Tiger Woods.
Tiger Woods sold his soul? Of course.
You don't think anybody's really that good, do you? - Red Hots? - Oh, thanks.
Hey.
You like to play games.
Football, one on one, me against you, winner take all.
I don't know.
So the big, bad, fire-spitting devil is all talk.
Not that I don't respect a little fire spitting.
Look, Bundy, I've been pretty easy on you up until now.
But if you want me to turn up the heat you're going down.
I'm already down.
Let's rock.
I thought this was just between you and me.
Allow me to introduce my team.
Erik the Red, Attila the Hun Genghis Khan, Brutus and my favourite, Goliath.
These guys aren't football players.
I know.
They just hurt people.
That's not fair.
I don't have a team.
Oh, sure you do, Al.
Hey, Daddy.
All right.
Like I said, I don't have a team.
Okay, guys.
Now, this is sudden death.
No kidding.
All we have to do is score the first touchdown and we get to go home.
So give me the ball and stay out of my way.
- Can I get a "whoa, Bundy"? - Whoa, Bundy! Ready.
Hut one.
Yes.
Okay, a new plan.
Stay out of my way, but stay in their way.
Can I get a "whoa, Bundy"? Whoa, Bundy.
All right.
New plan.
They're expecting me to get the ball.
Let's change all that.
Can I get a "whoa, Bundy"? All right.
- Hut one.
Jefferson.
Jefferson.
- What? What? Hey, hey.
I don't want it.
Having some fun now, huh, Bundy? Maybe when hell freezes over, we can play hockey.
All right.
This is our last chance.
Jefferson, it's time for the Hail Mary.
Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.
Not the prayer.
The pass.
- Ready.
Break.
- Break.
Hold on.
Three eight five! Three eight five! Six hut.
Hey, I was about to catch that.
Are you sure you want to? You see, Al, if you catch the ball I send you all back together as we agreed.
However, if you drop the ball l'll still send you back, not with them but with them.
- Come on, Al.
- Yeah, you can do it.
- You can do it.
- Come on.
- Come on, Al.
- Yeah, you can do it.
Al? Al, come on.
Are you all right? Get up.
Come on.
I'm home.
I'm I'm really home.
Well, of course you're home.
Where the hell else would you be? Exactly.
I was in hell.
And you were there and you were there, and you were there, and And, of course, you were there.
He's fine.
Nice going with the dinner table, Al.
Yeah.
Now what are we not gonna eat on? I can't believe you went to hell and didn't even bring me a souvenir.
Hey, Al, the NFL draft is on.
It must have been a dream.
There's no hell like home.