Bob's Burgers s15e11 Episode Script
Mr. Fischoeder's Opus
1
Wipe, wipe, wipe. And
that food's not coming off.
Now it's Tina's problem.
- Oh, thanks.
- Crap, it's Fischoeder.
Uh-oh, he probably
wants rent. Bob, quick,
- make a bunch of money.
- Yup.
[LINDA] Hi, Mr. Fisch.
- Hi.
-Hello. - Hi.
Hello, Belchlings.
Mr. Fischoeder, sorry. I-I know
we're late with the rent, but, uh
Yes, Bob, I would be
shocked if you weren't.
Listen, I'm here because I
need your catering services.
I'm having a reception at my home
for the musicians of the
Wharf Arts Symphony Orchestra.
- Okay. Uh, when?
- Tomorrow night.
- Tomorrow night?
- Are you crazy?
To be frank, you weren't
my first choice, but Irv
from Irv's Hors d'Oeuvres
and More d'Oeuvres
got a bacterial infection
and now he's covered
- in sore d'oeuvres.
- Yuck.
Anyway, there's a concert coming up.
Udo Pfeffer's Fifth Symphony.
It's a very special
one-night-only performance,
and the conductor will be someone
very handsome and charming.
- Timothée Chalamet?
- Me.
- Wow.
- Oh.
Can you just be a conductor?
You can if you have
a love as deep as mine
for Pfeffer's Fifth.
Also, I've given the
symphony a truckload of money,
and rich people can do whatever we want.
- [LOUISE] There it is.
- But isn't conducting hard?
I mean, it's kind of just
waving your arms around, right?
- No?
- Yes.
- Oh.
- But it's also
about a perfectly
timed hair toss moment.
What's a hair toss moment?
- [EXCLAIMS]
- Whoa.
- Huh.
- Nice.
- Nice.
- That was, that was really good.
Anyway, this reception will be a chance
to show the musicians
a good time, you know,
before rehearsals.
Butter them up a little.
Butter them up? Why?
Well, some of my ideas
about how the piece should be conducted
are considered controversial.
[TINA] Ooh. Dish.
Let's just say I'm part
of a small but passionate
group of Pfeffer-philes
who believe the composer
intended the first movement
to be played at a faster tempo
than most people are used to.
It unlocks the power of
the piece, makes it roar.
Fun. I love when things roar.
Lions, fires.
- The '20s.
- Woman.
So, if you help me out
with some tasty food items,
I'm prepared to forget
about this month's rent.
And if the evening goes really well,
the food's a hit, the
musicians leave ready
to do anything for me,
and I'm not talking about
inside-the-pants stuff, Bob,
though I can see you're thinking it.
No, no, no, I-I no.
- I was.
- If the evening goes well,
I'll forget about
next month's rent, too.
So, two months' rent?
Bob, it's pretty good.
Yeah. I-I guess we're
catering this party.
Wonderful. Okay,
my rules for caterers
don't go poking around,
looking for secret rooms
or embarrassing erotic paraphernalia,
and try not to use the bathroom at all.
How about just one big one
at the end of the night,
- as a treat?
- If you must.
Yay.
[LINDA] Look at us,
serving crispy cheese balls
like classy food people.
And I'm gonna have just one more.
- Gene, no.
- Oh, boo.
Uh, Louise, what are you doing?
- Stacking napkins.
- That's-that's too many.
Is it, Dad? Or do you think too small?
- Okay, yup, too many.
- I'll pick them up.
- Whoa!
- Ah, sorry. Floor napkin?
[SIGHS] Okay, kids, know what?
I just realized that your
helping is not helpful.
All of you, maybe go
- Explore the mansion?
- No, not allowed.
Play in the backyard.
- Okay. - Sure.
- Okay, bye.
And the fastest way to the backyard
is probably through
the entire house, right?
- [GENE] Mm-hmm.
- [TINA] Yup.
These sliders are
going over okay, right?
I got excited about peach sliders,
but they aren't an
obvious crowd pleaser.
They're great, Bob. Plus
peaches keep you regular.
Right, sir? He gets it.
Oh, hi, Mr. Fischoeder.
Is the party going
how you want it to go,
uh, r-rent money-wise?
Bob, you see that man over
there? The one who's bald
but in a more distinguished way
than what's happening with you?
[LINDA] Oh, yeah. Smart-bald.
[FISCHOEDER] That's
Jackson the concertmaster.
First violin. If I can win him over,
the whole orchestra will fall in line.
- Okay.
- But I can't go chasing him.
He'll smell fear.
I'm going to charm my way
through the other instruments.
The woodwinds will be easiest.
Sweet, skittish woodwinds.
I'll just ask to see
photos of their cats.
Then the brass players. A bit fratty.
I'll get them talking
about their spit valves.
- Swap spit stories, if you will.
- [BOB] Mm.
[FISCHOEDER] Percussionists over
there. I'll say "boom" a lot.
They'll love that. And finally,
the strings. They'll think and do
whatever the concertmaster
thinks and does,
so if I reel him in,
by the end of the night,
I'll have all the strings
strung along nicely.
Sounds like a plan.
- [WHISTLING]
- Yes. Yeah.
That's my Swedish-ish
whatever housekeeper Inga.
This is how she likes to communicate.
[WHISTLING]
Inga, what are you trying to say?
I don't remember what those mean.
- Felix is back.
- Oh, poop.
- But what's wrong?
- [GROWLS] Felix can't be here.
Parties make him even worse than usual.
I had arranged for him to be
at an ayahuasca retreat tonight.
And I a-wanna ask-a
him a-what happened.
Oh, a party. Okay.
Hi. Hello. You're here.
I was just at a super
exclusive ayahuasca retreat.
I left because they didn't have
my favorite ayahuasca flavor.
Barbecue. What's your
favorite ayahuasca flavor?
I bet it's dumb.
[SIGHS] I'll go deal with it.
But keep up the good
work. And, uh, smile.
Uh not you, Bob.
- Mm.
- Uh, that's worse.
You hear that? He said,
"Keep up the good work."
Two months' rent, here we come.
Yeah. Oh,
the concertmaster guy's coming over.
I'm sick of it, Kip. Every season
there's a new rich nincompoop
we have to pretend to follow
while he stands up there doing
some arrhythmic herky-jerky.
It's a waste of time
and talent. My talent.
- Yeah, an-and my talent.
- [CHUCKLING] I mean
What do you call someone
who hangs around musicians?
- Oh, I don't know.
- Uh, what?
- A viola player.
- [NERVOUS LAUGHTER]
He loves the viola jokes.
It's fun for me, as a viola player.
What's a viola?
[TINA GROANS] This
is a bad plan, Louise.
Is it, Tina? Or are you just bad
at boosting people up to
reach heavy swords on walls?
[FISCHOEDER] You don't want
to go to that party, Felix.
[GASPS] It's Mr. Fischoeder.
Abort. Abort.
- Ow, ow, ow.
- It's boring.
[CLICKS TONGUE]
Children, children, children.
Hmm.
- Felix, I have a favor to ask you.
- Gross.
Will you watch these little rapscallions
and keep them out of trouble
for the rest of the evening?
What? I don't wanna.
- Felix.
- I'm going back to the party.
I'll give you a scoop
of chocolate ice cream.
Two scoops.
- Deal.
- Hot fudge.
- You're pushing it.
- Fine.
Kids, follow me. But
don't look at my bottom,
- these slacks are not flattering.
- No, they're not.
I'll have Inga run
and drag your old toys
into the library so you
can keep 'em occupied.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
We don't need someone to watch us.
Shh. I need you to watch Felix.
Under no circumstances is
he to return to the party.
- Ooh. What's in it for us?
- How does $20 sound?
- Each.
- $30 total, ten each.
- Plus the sword.
- That's a Prussian dueling saber.
I'll find you a dagger or a bayonet.
Will that suffice?
We okay with 30 bucks and a bayonet?
- Do we need a bayonet?
- You don't want to need it
- and not have it.
- Okay.
- Deal.
- Done.
People who own football teams
don't put themselves in
as "guest quarterbacks."
Excuse me, what's your name?
Uh, I'm Bob. Uh, this is my wife Linda.
Yes, Bob, Linda, how would you feel
if some entitled rich
guy in a white suit
showed up to where you work
and made you do his bidding?
- We can relate, actually.
- It happens a lot.
And what if that rich guy
wanted to take something
you hold sacred, something like,
say, Pfeffer's Fifth Symphony,
and just rich guy all over it?
You mean, because of
Mr. Fischoeder's whole
- playing it faster thing?
- Wait, what?
- Uh, I mean, nothing. Forget it.
- Oh, good Lord.
Are you saying Fischoeder is a tempoist?
Uh, I don't, I don't know what that is.
- A-a what? A-a tampon-ist?
- A tempoist.
They're crackpots who think Pfeffer
intended the first movement of the Fifth
to be played at some ridiculous tempo.
They wave around one
illegible letter from Pfeffer
to his mistress as proof that
Pfeffer intended it that way.
It's a desecration.
It's like it's like
peach on a burger.
- Fischoeder's idea, I assume?
- Uh
Well, I won't let Fischoeder
put his tacky, wacky
peaches on Pfeffer's burger.
I'm not going to play the piece,
and the orchestra won't play it either.
- Whoa, um
- Wha?
- Right, Kip?
- Um
Kip's on board. We'll sit on our hands,
and Fischoeder can swing
his little baton around
in a silent concert hall. Come on, Kip.
Uh, coming. Great cheese balls.
- Super yummy.
- [JACKSON] Kip!
- Uh-huh.
- Thank you.
Oh, God, I blurted out the stuff
about playing it faster
and ruined everything.
- Calm down.
- Look, Lin,
the concertmaster's over
there spreading it all around.
[LINDA] Ah, I'm sure he's
talking about music stuff.
B-flats or whatever.
He was probably right about
the sliders, by the way.
Maybe the peaches are tacky.
Eh, Jackson can go French a horn.
Mr. Fischoeder's coming
over. I I got to tell him.
Bob, Linda, is it just me,
or has the vibe shifted?
I feel like we jumped from
the beginning of Boogie Nights
to the end of Boogie Nights.
Mr. Fischoeder, I-I'm sorry.
I accidentally told the concertmaster
about your plan to
play the piece faster.
Oh, I see.
Yeah, and now he says the
orchestra won't play at all.
A big deal? Not a big deal?
Well, my intention was to save
that bit of info for my toast,
when everybody's tipsy and happy
and tooting each other's tubas.
- Ooh.
- Bob, I should have told you
not to speak. At all. And to shower.
So those things are on me.
But I can still win them back.
[WHISTLES]
[INGA WHISTLES]
She said she'll be right over.
Or we're mating. I'm not sure which.
Inga, under the bar is my copy
of Harvey Hirschman's
Superior Cocktails.
On page 52, you'll find the recipe
for Cleopatra's Climax.
Make two pitchers.
- And a pitcher for Inga?
- Yes, yes, a pitcher for Inga.
When these feisty maestros
have a Cleopatra's Climax,
they're gonna loosen right up
and we'll be back in business.
- [GRUNTS]
- Ooh.
She'll need help behind the bar.
Lady-Bob, how are you with a garnish?
- Uh, great-ish?
- Splendid.
Your big fat mouth that doesn't
quite go with your mustache
- hasn't ruined us yet, Bob.
- Uh, good.
[FELIX] This one's
fun. You'll like this.
I've seen Indiana Jones.
Our faces are about to get melted.
- [TINA AND GENE GASP]
- Whoa.
Did you guys not have one of
these when you were little?
No, but we had a cup of
slime that made a fart sound.
I call captain.
I love the amount of
swords in this house.
You know what? This cannon
might possibly still work.
Cover your ears.
[WICK BURNING]
And the cannons won't fire.
Well, this is gonna be a long night.
- [SHOUTING] - Oh, my God!
- Oh, good.
Here you go. These are a hit.
Whoa, where'd you learn to do that?
Olive Garden.
See, Bob? It's working.
Cleopatra's Climax has
changed the course of history
in the free world more than once. Twice.
- Ow.
- Hmm, oily.
And look how he decorated this place.
[LAUGHING] You'd think he
had patches over both eyes.
It's hideous.
Oof. Jackson gets even meaner
when he drinks hard liquor.
Remember the open bar at
the Nutcracker reception?
He made the entire wind section cry.
[WOMAN] Oh, yeah. He broke those winds.
Oh, no. Jackson gets meaner
when he drinks hard liquor?
Yes, I heard. Not to worry.
I'll win him over with my toast.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
- I'm going to get pre-toasted.
- Okay.
[STRAINING]
Good old Lincoln logs,
the shining star of
Abraham Lincoln's legacy.
These are the originals,
back when they made
'em with big old logs.
Felix, maybe we can do something else?
Something not as sweaty? Or loggy?
God, you kids are difficult!
I'm gonna check out
the party real quick.
- No, no, no!
- Uh - No!
Don't go back to the party! I-I mean
Stay. Here? Uh, with us?
Geez, you love me.
Am I a great babysitter?
- Um
- Uh, yeah.
Hey, maybe you could show us, uh
- that thing.
- Puppet show?
That is a puppet no from me.
- I want to go to the party.
- Okay.
What if we put on a show for you?
Fine. But make it good.
No multiverse crap. I'm sick of it.
- [INDISTINCT CHATTER]
- [CLEARS THROAT] Everyone,
I'd like to give a toast.
Hmm, I'm being drowned
out by the brass section.
Woodwinds, now I know how you feel.
[CHUCKLING]
Anyway, I've been waiting patiently
for this moment all night long.
The timpani player can relate.
[TIMPANI PLAYER LAUGHS] Yup.
Ha! I don't get it, but
he's doing good, right?
Yeah, but look at the concertmaster.
[LINDA] Oh, God. Angry
eyebrows. So bushy.
I see Jackson Woodall, our
first violin and concertmaster.
- Let's hear it for Jackson!
- [APPLAUSE]
You know, I once saw Jackson play
the Mendelssohn Violin
Concerto perfectly,
even with a sprained middle finger.
I can tell from the welcome
you've shown me tonight,
Jackson, that your middle
finger is back to full form.
- [CHUCKLING]
- Can you pick up the pace?
- That's what you want us to do, isn't it?
- [GASPING]
- Oh, God.
- Not good.
[CHUCKLES AWKWARDLY]
Yes, I do believe
Pfeffer favored the
Fifth at a faster tempo.
But even if that doesn't
fluff your fiddle,
I only ask you to play
it and keep an open mind.
A piece that survived five wars
and its use in that one rather
poignant cracker commercial
can certainly survive
my awkward fumblings.
- [JACKSON SCOFFS]
- Oh, boy.
Now I want crackers.
Pfeffer's Fifth was composed by a man
with decades of experience
and daily commitment to his craft.
It premiered in Vienna before royalty,
played by musicians who
indentured from the age of five
in order to earn their
place on that stage.
And you'd have it
blaring from a calliope
on a carousel on Wonder Wharf
while children spin
around on wooden horses,
going faster and faster
and faster and faster!
I won't stand for it! I won't!
Who's with me? Hands?
I want to see hands!
Hmm.
Message received.
I'll step aside.
I will not conduct Pfeffer's Fifth.
Now if you'll excuse me,
I'm going to the place
where I keep my drugs.
And, no, I don't intend to share.
- Oh, no.
- Yeah, that's not good.
- Here.
- Thank you.
Poor Mr. Fisch. He was so
excited about conducting
- his Pfeffeffeff.
- I feel like I should maybe go find him.
This isn't exactly my fault,
but it-it is also, uh, a little bit.
- A lot bit.
- [BOB AND LINDA] Aah!
A lot your fault.
He will be in the hedge house.
Wh-Where's the hedge house?
In the hedge maze.
Where else would it be?
Watch your step. There is peacock poop.
Peacock poop in the hedge maze?
- I don't judge your hedge maze.
- Sor-ry.
And that's that episode of Friends.
The one where they all were puppets.
Great job. Great Ross. Great Phoebe.
- Wasn't even close to Joey's voice.
- Really? "How you doin'?"
- Mm-mm.
- Oh.
And now I believe I will slip out
for a well-earned drinky-dink.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. [CHUCKLES]
Uh, we're in a library
and we haven't even
looked at any books yet.
You've got to read us one, uh
- Uncle Felix.
- Ew.
Uh [GRUNTS]
- [TINA] Whoa.
- [GENE] Wow!
Yes. Secret room.
Yeah, libraries have secret rooms.
Pretty sure it's the law. Oh, my God.
You kids have never been
in a library hidden room?
That is so sad.
It is sad! It's pathetic!
Please show it to us. Lot
of dreams coming true here.
[SIGHS] Follow me.
Remember the rule about my bottom.
[LOUISE] Secret room,
secret room, secret room!
This is the home gym.
- Oh.
- You sound disappointed.
Are you a StairMaster person?
[INSECTS CHIRPING]
Wow. Peacock poop is huge.
- [CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING IN DISTANCE]
- Oh. Music.
It sounds like it's
coming from that way.
- [SQUISH]
- [GROANS] Damn it.
[STRAINED] And that's how you do it.
See how much stronger I just got?
[GRUNTS]
Each of you can do three sets of 50.
I'm gonna pop into the party,
and you will stay
[GRUNTING] here.
Are you trying to lock us in here?
[STRAINED] No, I'm babysitting you.
Know what might work better?
Why don't you get on the other side
- and pull?
- Ha! You shouldn't have told me that.
[GRUNTING] Ah!
No, no, no, no! Son of
a [MUFFLED GROANING]
[TINA] Do we feel good about this?
I feel good about $30 and a bayonet.
Besides, it's just till
the end of the party.
Yeah, and he's gonna get
so buff, he'll thank us.
- Yes! Hedge house!
- [CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING]
Hi, Mr. Fischoeder.
Is this the Pfeffer song?
Yes. The dumb slow version.
Uh, what-what are you holding?
It belonged to Pfeffer.
When he was composing the Fifth.
- What is it?
- His diaper.
- Oh! Uh
- He wore it
so he wouldn't have to
leave his piano bench
for the three days it took
to write the adagio section.
"Tempoists."
We're not crackpots. We're right.
Sure, no self-respecting
symphony orchestra
has ever recorded it faster.
But that's because they're afraid.
Afraid of how right we are.
Read the letter for
yourself. You'll see.
- The letter?
- From Pfeffer to his mistress.
It's written in Austrian German,
and he uses Italian musical terms.
I can't read any of that.
I don't know those languages.
Right. Yes, you speak
some crude worker dialect.
Look, right here he says he's excited
about the symphony he's almost finished.
He says it will be vivace con coraggio,
which means "lively with courage"!
"Vivace" is understood to be
around 150 beats per minute,
but "con coraggio" suggests a tempo
of at least 170 beats per minute!
- Don't you agree?!
- Um, totally.
Obviously. Of course.
But, Mr. Fischoeder,
y-you were so excited to conduct.
What if you just do it the regular way?
I was excited. And I did
get my tuxedo re-tuxed.
So can't you just
go back to the party
and tell them you won't
do the tempo thing?
[GROANS] Okay.
Fine. I'll do it the slow, sucky way.
Oh. Uh, good. A-And you
don't have to give us
the two months' rent.
Unless you want to.
Because you think it would be cool.
[SADLY] Don't worry.
You'll get your two months.
- Oh. Thank you.
- [SIGHS HEAVILY]
Life can be disappointing, Bob.
Even when you're rich.
Do you think that would
make a good bumper sticker?
- [BOB] Part of it.
-
The symphony. We're
here. Can you believe it?
This family? We're so fancy.
Did everyone remember to fart
outside before we came in?
[OTHERS] Yes.
- Oh. Mr. Fischoeder!
- Hello, Bob.
- Are-are you excited?
- [FLATLY] Oh, quite.
Okay. Uh, how were rehearsals?
We played the piece
at the "normal" tempo
and I waved my arms
around the normal amount.
Now if you'll excuse
me, I should go backstage
and maestro-bate.
It's not what you think.
It's when you polish your baton.
But that's not what you think either.
[SOFT CHATTER]
Row "G." Park it here, Coolio.
Thank you, Harold. Have
you been an usher here long?
- Can it! Sit!
- Yep.
Mr. Fischoeder just seemed so
- Broken?
- Empty?
- A shell of a man?
- Yes. Thank you.
But isn't it better to
just do what you know works?
You know? Don't rock the boat?
L-Like those peach sliders
we made for the party.
- They-they were too much.
- What are you talking about?
People loved the peach sliders.
What? But the concertmaster
said that they were
Who cares about that dork?
People were telling me
all night they loved 'em.
"Peach sliders. Peach
sliders. Mmm, mmm, mmm."
They were? No one told me that.
Well, people tell me things
'cause I'm a more engaging
and friendly person.
- You should try that, Dad.
- Gonna be tough
- with that face.
- Oh, yeah.
- Those jowls.
- Yeah.
I got to go talk to him.
But the thing's about to start.
Maybe you have two minutes?
Maybe it's like Guns N' Roses
and they come out whenever
they damn well please.
O-Okay, I'll be right back.
[GRUNTING]
Back to your seat, slick.
-Show's about to start.
-Harold, I was just I got to
- Just nothing, Jack.
- I got
- Butts in seats.
- Please, I need
Just for a second. I'm just lea
Hey, that guy brought
food into the auditorium!
Wha?! Okay, who's the wise guy?!
Someone must like smackdowns!
- Mr. Fischoeder?
- Bob,
what are you doing backstage?
Even by classical music standards,
you're not hot enough to be a groupie.
Poof, poof, poof, poof.
Um, the a-advice I gave you
about just conducting
- the piece the usual way
- Poof, poof, poof.
- I-I think I was wrong.
- Poof, poof.
You should do it. The tempo thing.
It-It's why you wanted
- to conduct in the first place.
- Poof, poof.
Who cares if it rocks the boat a little?
Poof, poof, poof.
The mustache man is right.
Th-Thank you, Inga.
- Now. Not before. Poof.
- Right.
- Old advice was stupid.
- Mm-hmm.
- I-I get it.
- Really bad.
- Two minutes, people!
- It's time.
So, are you gonna
play it at the faster tempo?
- Poof, poof, poof.
- It's too late. It's not
how we rehearsed it.
Inga, a little more on the forehead.
- Poof.
- Bob needs a little, too.
- Poof.
- [COUGHING] Oh. Th-Thank you.
[TINA] Think Felix is still mad at us
- for trapping him in the secret room?
- [ORCHESTRA TUNING INSTRUMENTS]
He'll get over it.
He's a big boy. Sorta.
-[GROWLING]
-[GENE] Wish he'd stop staring, though.
Waving.
- Punk!
- [LINDA] Bob,
- sit, sit. It's about to start.
- [APPLAUSE]
- Wait, what's on your face?
- Oh, it's, uh, powder.
You look good. [SIGHS]
The concertmaster.
I hope he gets tromboned
in the strombolis.
[ORCHESTRA PLAYING SLOWLY]
[BOB SIGHS]
He-He's not gonna do
it. The tempo thing.
Well, he's doing okay.
Looks a little stiff.
[LOUISE] A lot stiff.
[GENE] Mr. Stiffy up there.
♪
[TEMPO PICKS UP]
- Oh, my God.
- Is he doing the fast thing?
[BOB] I think he's trying?
[ORCHESTRA PLAYING QUICKLY]
[VIOLIN PLAYING MORE SLOWLY]
[BOB] Uh-oh. The concertmaster's
trying to get them to play it slower.
[GASPS] It's a tempo battle.
They're tempo battling.
[ORCHESTRA PLAYING RAPIDLY]
[BOB] Is the orchestra into it?
And are people bopping a little bit?
Looks like people are bopping.
[GRUNTING RHYTHMICALLY]
♪
[GRUNTS]
- Hair toss moment.
- Damn.
That's my landlord.
♪
Ha-ha!
Wipe, wipe, wipe. And
that food's not coming off.
Now it's Tina's problem.
- Oh, thanks.
- Crap, it's Fischoeder.
Uh-oh, he probably
wants rent. Bob, quick,
- make a bunch of money.
- Yup.
[LINDA] Hi, Mr. Fisch.
- Hi.
-Hello. - Hi.
Hello, Belchlings.
Mr. Fischoeder, sorry. I-I know
we're late with the rent, but, uh
Yes, Bob, I would be
shocked if you weren't.
Listen, I'm here because I
need your catering services.
I'm having a reception at my home
for the musicians of the
Wharf Arts Symphony Orchestra.
- Okay. Uh, when?
- Tomorrow night.
- Tomorrow night?
- Are you crazy?
To be frank, you weren't
my first choice, but Irv
from Irv's Hors d'Oeuvres
and More d'Oeuvres
got a bacterial infection
and now he's covered
- in sore d'oeuvres.
- Yuck.
Anyway, there's a concert coming up.
Udo Pfeffer's Fifth Symphony.
It's a very special
one-night-only performance,
and the conductor will be someone
very handsome and charming.
- Timothée Chalamet?
- Me.
- Wow.
- Oh.
Can you just be a conductor?
You can if you have
a love as deep as mine
for Pfeffer's Fifth.
Also, I've given the
symphony a truckload of money,
and rich people can do whatever we want.
- [LOUISE] There it is.
- But isn't conducting hard?
I mean, it's kind of just
waving your arms around, right?
- No?
- Yes.
- Oh.
- But it's also
about a perfectly
timed hair toss moment.
What's a hair toss moment?
- [EXCLAIMS]
- Whoa.
- Huh.
- Nice.
- Nice.
- That was, that was really good.
Anyway, this reception will be a chance
to show the musicians
a good time, you know,
before rehearsals.
Butter them up a little.
Butter them up? Why?
Well, some of my ideas
about how the piece should be conducted
are considered controversial.
[TINA] Ooh. Dish.
Let's just say I'm part
of a small but passionate
group of Pfeffer-philes
who believe the composer
intended the first movement
to be played at a faster tempo
than most people are used to.
It unlocks the power of
the piece, makes it roar.
Fun. I love when things roar.
Lions, fires.
- The '20s.
- Woman.
So, if you help me out
with some tasty food items,
I'm prepared to forget
about this month's rent.
And if the evening goes really well,
the food's a hit, the
musicians leave ready
to do anything for me,
and I'm not talking about
inside-the-pants stuff, Bob,
though I can see you're thinking it.
No, no, no, I-I no.
- I was.
- If the evening goes well,
I'll forget about
next month's rent, too.
So, two months' rent?
Bob, it's pretty good.
Yeah. I-I guess we're
catering this party.
Wonderful. Okay,
my rules for caterers
don't go poking around,
looking for secret rooms
or embarrassing erotic paraphernalia,
and try not to use the bathroom at all.
How about just one big one
at the end of the night,
- as a treat?
- If you must.
Yay.
[LINDA] Look at us,
serving crispy cheese balls
like classy food people.
And I'm gonna have just one more.
- Gene, no.
- Oh, boo.
Uh, Louise, what are you doing?
- Stacking napkins.
- That's-that's too many.
Is it, Dad? Or do you think too small?
- Okay, yup, too many.
- I'll pick them up.
- Whoa!
- Ah, sorry. Floor napkin?
[SIGHS] Okay, kids, know what?
I just realized that your
helping is not helpful.
All of you, maybe go
- Explore the mansion?
- No, not allowed.
Play in the backyard.
- Okay. - Sure.
- Okay, bye.
And the fastest way to the backyard
is probably through
the entire house, right?
- [GENE] Mm-hmm.
- [TINA] Yup.
These sliders are
going over okay, right?
I got excited about peach sliders,
but they aren't an
obvious crowd pleaser.
They're great, Bob. Plus
peaches keep you regular.
Right, sir? He gets it.
Oh, hi, Mr. Fischoeder.
Is the party going
how you want it to go,
uh, r-rent money-wise?
Bob, you see that man over
there? The one who's bald
but in a more distinguished way
than what's happening with you?
[LINDA] Oh, yeah. Smart-bald.
[FISCHOEDER] That's
Jackson the concertmaster.
First violin. If I can win him over,
the whole orchestra will fall in line.
- Okay.
- But I can't go chasing him.
He'll smell fear.
I'm going to charm my way
through the other instruments.
The woodwinds will be easiest.
Sweet, skittish woodwinds.
I'll just ask to see
photos of their cats.
Then the brass players. A bit fratty.
I'll get them talking
about their spit valves.
- Swap spit stories, if you will.
- [BOB] Mm.
[FISCHOEDER] Percussionists over
there. I'll say "boom" a lot.
They'll love that. And finally,
the strings. They'll think and do
whatever the concertmaster
thinks and does,
so if I reel him in,
by the end of the night,
I'll have all the strings
strung along nicely.
Sounds like a plan.
- [WHISTLING]
- Yes. Yeah.
That's my Swedish-ish
whatever housekeeper Inga.
This is how she likes to communicate.
[WHISTLING]
Inga, what are you trying to say?
I don't remember what those mean.
- Felix is back.
- Oh, poop.
- But what's wrong?
- [GROWLS] Felix can't be here.
Parties make him even worse than usual.
I had arranged for him to be
at an ayahuasca retreat tonight.
And I a-wanna ask-a
him a-what happened.
Oh, a party. Okay.
Hi. Hello. You're here.
I was just at a super
exclusive ayahuasca retreat.
I left because they didn't have
my favorite ayahuasca flavor.
Barbecue. What's your
favorite ayahuasca flavor?
I bet it's dumb.
[SIGHS] I'll go deal with it.
But keep up the good
work. And, uh, smile.
Uh not you, Bob.
- Mm.
- Uh, that's worse.
You hear that? He said,
"Keep up the good work."
Two months' rent, here we come.
Yeah. Oh,
the concertmaster guy's coming over.
I'm sick of it, Kip. Every season
there's a new rich nincompoop
we have to pretend to follow
while he stands up there doing
some arrhythmic herky-jerky.
It's a waste of time
and talent. My talent.
- Yeah, an-and my talent.
- [CHUCKLING] I mean
What do you call someone
who hangs around musicians?
- Oh, I don't know.
- Uh, what?
- A viola player.
- [NERVOUS LAUGHTER]
He loves the viola jokes.
It's fun for me, as a viola player.
What's a viola?
[TINA GROANS] This
is a bad plan, Louise.
Is it, Tina? Or are you just bad
at boosting people up to
reach heavy swords on walls?
[FISCHOEDER] You don't want
to go to that party, Felix.
[GASPS] It's Mr. Fischoeder.
Abort. Abort.
- Ow, ow, ow.
- It's boring.
[CLICKS TONGUE]
Children, children, children.
Hmm.
- Felix, I have a favor to ask you.
- Gross.
Will you watch these little rapscallions
and keep them out of trouble
for the rest of the evening?
What? I don't wanna.
- Felix.
- I'm going back to the party.
I'll give you a scoop
of chocolate ice cream.
Two scoops.
- Deal.
- Hot fudge.
- You're pushing it.
- Fine.
Kids, follow me. But
don't look at my bottom,
- these slacks are not flattering.
- No, they're not.
I'll have Inga run
and drag your old toys
into the library so you
can keep 'em occupied.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
We don't need someone to watch us.
Shh. I need you to watch Felix.
Under no circumstances is
he to return to the party.
- Ooh. What's in it for us?
- How does $20 sound?
- Each.
- $30 total, ten each.
- Plus the sword.
- That's a Prussian dueling saber.
I'll find you a dagger or a bayonet.
Will that suffice?
We okay with 30 bucks and a bayonet?
- Do we need a bayonet?
- You don't want to need it
- and not have it.
- Okay.
- Deal.
- Done.
People who own football teams
don't put themselves in
as "guest quarterbacks."
Excuse me, what's your name?
Uh, I'm Bob. Uh, this is my wife Linda.
Yes, Bob, Linda, how would you feel
if some entitled rich
guy in a white suit
showed up to where you work
and made you do his bidding?
- We can relate, actually.
- It happens a lot.
And what if that rich guy
wanted to take something
you hold sacred, something like,
say, Pfeffer's Fifth Symphony,
and just rich guy all over it?
You mean, because of
Mr. Fischoeder's whole
- playing it faster thing?
- Wait, what?
- Uh, I mean, nothing. Forget it.
- Oh, good Lord.
Are you saying Fischoeder is a tempoist?
Uh, I don't, I don't know what that is.
- A-a what? A-a tampon-ist?
- A tempoist.
They're crackpots who think Pfeffer
intended the first movement of the Fifth
to be played at some ridiculous tempo.
They wave around one
illegible letter from Pfeffer
to his mistress as proof that
Pfeffer intended it that way.
It's a desecration.
It's like it's like
peach on a burger.
- Fischoeder's idea, I assume?
- Uh
Well, I won't let Fischoeder
put his tacky, wacky
peaches on Pfeffer's burger.
I'm not going to play the piece,
and the orchestra won't play it either.
- Whoa, um
- Wha?
- Right, Kip?
- Um
Kip's on board. We'll sit on our hands,
and Fischoeder can swing
his little baton around
in a silent concert hall. Come on, Kip.
Uh, coming. Great cheese balls.
- Super yummy.
- [JACKSON] Kip!
- Uh-huh.
- Thank you.
Oh, God, I blurted out the stuff
about playing it faster
and ruined everything.
- Calm down.
- Look, Lin,
the concertmaster's over
there spreading it all around.
[LINDA] Ah, I'm sure he's
talking about music stuff.
B-flats or whatever.
He was probably right about
the sliders, by the way.
Maybe the peaches are tacky.
Eh, Jackson can go French a horn.
Mr. Fischoeder's coming
over. I I got to tell him.
Bob, Linda, is it just me,
or has the vibe shifted?
I feel like we jumped from
the beginning of Boogie Nights
to the end of Boogie Nights.
Mr. Fischoeder, I-I'm sorry.
I accidentally told the concertmaster
about your plan to
play the piece faster.
Oh, I see.
Yeah, and now he says the
orchestra won't play at all.
A big deal? Not a big deal?
Well, my intention was to save
that bit of info for my toast,
when everybody's tipsy and happy
and tooting each other's tubas.
- Ooh.
- Bob, I should have told you
not to speak. At all. And to shower.
So those things are on me.
But I can still win them back.
[WHISTLES]
[INGA WHISTLES]
She said she'll be right over.
Or we're mating. I'm not sure which.
Inga, under the bar is my copy
of Harvey Hirschman's
Superior Cocktails.
On page 52, you'll find the recipe
for Cleopatra's Climax.
Make two pitchers.
- And a pitcher for Inga?
- Yes, yes, a pitcher for Inga.
When these feisty maestros
have a Cleopatra's Climax,
they're gonna loosen right up
and we'll be back in business.
- [GRUNTS]
- Ooh.
She'll need help behind the bar.
Lady-Bob, how are you with a garnish?
- Uh, great-ish?
- Splendid.
Your big fat mouth that doesn't
quite go with your mustache
- hasn't ruined us yet, Bob.
- Uh, good.
[FELIX] This one's
fun. You'll like this.
I've seen Indiana Jones.
Our faces are about to get melted.
- [TINA AND GENE GASP]
- Whoa.
Did you guys not have one of
these when you were little?
No, but we had a cup of
slime that made a fart sound.
I call captain.
I love the amount of
swords in this house.
You know what? This cannon
might possibly still work.
Cover your ears.
[WICK BURNING]
And the cannons won't fire.
Well, this is gonna be a long night.
- [SHOUTING] - Oh, my God!
- Oh, good.
Here you go. These are a hit.
Whoa, where'd you learn to do that?
Olive Garden.
See, Bob? It's working.
Cleopatra's Climax has
changed the course of history
in the free world more than once. Twice.
- Ow.
- Hmm, oily.
And look how he decorated this place.
[LAUGHING] You'd think he
had patches over both eyes.
It's hideous.
Oof. Jackson gets even meaner
when he drinks hard liquor.
Remember the open bar at
the Nutcracker reception?
He made the entire wind section cry.
[WOMAN] Oh, yeah. He broke those winds.
Oh, no. Jackson gets meaner
when he drinks hard liquor?
Yes, I heard. Not to worry.
I'll win him over with my toast.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
- I'm going to get pre-toasted.
- Okay.
[STRAINING]
Good old Lincoln logs,
the shining star of
Abraham Lincoln's legacy.
These are the originals,
back when they made
'em with big old logs.
Felix, maybe we can do something else?
Something not as sweaty? Or loggy?
God, you kids are difficult!
I'm gonna check out
the party real quick.
- No, no, no!
- Uh - No!
Don't go back to the party! I-I mean
Stay. Here? Uh, with us?
Geez, you love me.
Am I a great babysitter?
- Um
- Uh, yeah.
Hey, maybe you could show us, uh
- that thing.
- Puppet show?
That is a puppet no from me.
- I want to go to the party.
- Okay.
What if we put on a show for you?
Fine. But make it good.
No multiverse crap. I'm sick of it.
- [INDISTINCT CHATTER]
- [CLEARS THROAT] Everyone,
I'd like to give a toast.
Hmm, I'm being drowned
out by the brass section.
Woodwinds, now I know how you feel.
[CHUCKLING]
Anyway, I've been waiting patiently
for this moment all night long.
The timpani player can relate.
[TIMPANI PLAYER LAUGHS] Yup.
Ha! I don't get it, but
he's doing good, right?
Yeah, but look at the concertmaster.
[LINDA] Oh, God. Angry
eyebrows. So bushy.
I see Jackson Woodall, our
first violin and concertmaster.
- Let's hear it for Jackson!
- [APPLAUSE]
You know, I once saw Jackson play
the Mendelssohn Violin
Concerto perfectly,
even with a sprained middle finger.
I can tell from the welcome
you've shown me tonight,
Jackson, that your middle
finger is back to full form.
- [CHUCKLING]
- Can you pick up the pace?
- That's what you want us to do, isn't it?
- [GASPING]
- Oh, God.
- Not good.
[CHUCKLES AWKWARDLY]
Yes, I do believe
Pfeffer favored the
Fifth at a faster tempo.
But even if that doesn't
fluff your fiddle,
I only ask you to play
it and keep an open mind.
A piece that survived five wars
and its use in that one rather
poignant cracker commercial
can certainly survive
my awkward fumblings.
- [JACKSON SCOFFS]
- Oh, boy.
Now I want crackers.
Pfeffer's Fifth was composed by a man
with decades of experience
and daily commitment to his craft.
It premiered in Vienna before royalty,
played by musicians who
indentured from the age of five
in order to earn their
place on that stage.
And you'd have it
blaring from a calliope
on a carousel on Wonder Wharf
while children spin
around on wooden horses,
going faster and faster
and faster and faster!
I won't stand for it! I won't!
Who's with me? Hands?
I want to see hands!
Hmm.
Message received.
I'll step aside.
I will not conduct Pfeffer's Fifth.
Now if you'll excuse me,
I'm going to the place
where I keep my drugs.
And, no, I don't intend to share.
- Oh, no.
- Yeah, that's not good.
- Here.
- Thank you.
Poor Mr. Fisch. He was so
excited about conducting
- his Pfeffeffeff.
- I feel like I should maybe go find him.
This isn't exactly my fault,
but it-it is also, uh, a little bit.
- A lot bit.
- [BOB AND LINDA] Aah!
A lot your fault.
He will be in the hedge house.
Wh-Where's the hedge house?
In the hedge maze.
Where else would it be?
Watch your step. There is peacock poop.
Peacock poop in the hedge maze?
- I don't judge your hedge maze.
- Sor-ry.
And that's that episode of Friends.
The one where they all were puppets.
Great job. Great Ross. Great Phoebe.
- Wasn't even close to Joey's voice.
- Really? "How you doin'?"
- Mm-mm.
- Oh.
And now I believe I will slip out
for a well-earned drinky-dink.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. [CHUCKLES]
Uh, we're in a library
and we haven't even
looked at any books yet.
You've got to read us one, uh
- Uncle Felix.
- Ew.
Uh [GRUNTS]
- [TINA] Whoa.
- [GENE] Wow!
Yes. Secret room.
Yeah, libraries have secret rooms.
Pretty sure it's the law. Oh, my God.
You kids have never been
in a library hidden room?
That is so sad.
It is sad! It's pathetic!
Please show it to us. Lot
of dreams coming true here.
[SIGHS] Follow me.
Remember the rule about my bottom.
[LOUISE] Secret room,
secret room, secret room!
This is the home gym.
- Oh.
- You sound disappointed.
Are you a StairMaster person?
[INSECTS CHIRPING]
Wow. Peacock poop is huge.
- [CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING IN DISTANCE]
- Oh. Music.
It sounds like it's
coming from that way.
- [SQUISH]
- [GROANS] Damn it.
[STRAINED] And that's how you do it.
See how much stronger I just got?
[GRUNTS]
Each of you can do three sets of 50.
I'm gonna pop into the party,
and you will stay
[GRUNTING] here.
Are you trying to lock us in here?
[STRAINED] No, I'm babysitting you.
Know what might work better?
Why don't you get on the other side
- and pull?
- Ha! You shouldn't have told me that.
[GRUNTING] Ah!
No, no, no, no! Son of
a [MUFFLED GROANING]
[TINA] Do we feel good about this?
I feel good about $30 and a bayonet.
Besides, it's just till
the end of the party.
Yeah, and he's gonna get
so buff, he'll thank us.
- Yes! Hedge house!
- [CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING]
Hi, Mr. Fischoeder.
Is this the Pfeffer song?
Yes. The dumb slow version.
Uh, what-what are you holding?
It belonged to Pfeffer.
When he was composing the Fifth.
- What is it?
- His diaper.
- Oh! Uh
- He wore it
so he wouldn't have to
leave his piano bench
for the three days it took
to write the adagio section.
"Tempoists."
We're not crackpots. We're right.
Sure, no self-respecting
symphony orchestra
has ever recorded it faster.
But that's because they're afraid.
Afraid of how right we are.
Read the letter for
yourself. You'll see.
- The letter?
- From Pfeffer to his mistress.
It's written in Austrian German,
and he uses Italian musical terms.
I can't read any of that.
I don't know those languages.
Right. Yes, you speak
some crude worker dialect.
Look, right here he says he's excited
about the symphony he's almost finished.
He says it will be vivace con coraggio,
which means "lively with courage"!
"Vivace" is understood to be
around 150 beats per minute,
but "con coraggio" suggests a tempo
of at least 170 beats per minute!
- Don't you agree?!
- Um, totally.
Obviously. Of course.
But, Mr. Fischoeder,
y-you were so excited to conduct.
What if you just do it the regular way?
I was excited. And I did
get my tuxedo re-tuxed.
So can't you just
go back to the party
and tell them you won't
do the tempo thing?
[GROANS] Okay.
Fine. I'll do it the slow, sucky way.
Oh. Uh, good. A-And you
don't have to give us
the two months' rent.
Unless you want to.
Because you think it would be cool.
[SADLY] Don't worry.
You'll get your two months.
- Oh. Thank you.
- [SIGHS HEAVILY]
Life can be disappointing, Bob.
Even when you're rich.
Do you think that would
make a good bumper sticker?
- [BOB] Part of it.
-
The symphony. We're
here. Can you believe it?
This family? We're so fancy.
Did everyone remember to fart
outside before we came in?
[OTHERS] Yes.
- Oh. Mr. Fischoeder!
- Hello, Bob.
- Are-are you excited?
- [FLATLY] Oh, quite.
Okay. Uh, how were rehearsals?
We played the piece
at the "normal" tempo
and I waved my arms
around the normal amount.
Now if you'll excuse
me, I should go backstage
and maestro-bate.
It's not what you think.
It's when you polish your baton.
But that's not what you think either.
[SOFT CHATTER]
Row "G." Park it here, Coolio.
Thank you, Harold. Have
you been an usher here long?
- Can it! Sit!
- Yep.
Mr. Fischoeder just seemed so
- Broken?
- Empty?
- A shell of a man?
- Yes. Thank you.
But isn't it better to
just do what you know works?
You know? Don't rock the boat?
L-Like those peach sliders
we made for the party.
- They-they were too much.
- What are you talking about?
People loved the peach sliders.
What? But the concertmaster
said that they were
Who cares about that dork?
People were telling me
all night they loved 'em.
"Peach sliders. Peach
sliders. Mmm, mmm, mmm."
They were? No one told me that.
Well, people tell me things
'cause I'm a more engaging
and friendly person.
- You should try that, Dad.
- Gonna be tough
- with that face.
- Oh, yeah.
- Those jowls.
- Yeah.
I got to go talk to him.
But the thing's about to start.
Maybe you have two minutes?
Maybe it's like Guns N' Roses
and they come out whenever
they damn well please.
O-Okay, I'll be right back.
[GRUNTING]
Back to your seat, slick.
-Show's about to start.
-Harold, I was just I got to
- Just nothing, Jack.
- I got
- Butts in seats.
- Please, I need
Just for a second. I'm just lea
Hey, that guy brought
food into the auditorium!
Wha?! Okay, who's the wise guy?!
Someone must like smackdowns!
- Mr. Fischoeder?
- Bob,
what are you doing backstage?
Even by classical music standards,
you're not hot enough to be a groupie.
Poof, poof, poof, poof.
Um, the a-advice I gave you
about just conducting
- the piece the usual way
- Poof, poof, poof.
- I-I think I was wrong.
- Poof, poof.
You should do it. The tempo thing.
It-It's why you wanted
- to conduct in the first place.
- Poof, poof.
Who cares if it rocks the boat a little?
Poof, poof, poof.
The mustache man is right.
Th-Thank you, Inga.
- Now. Not before. Poof.
- Right.
- Old advice was stupid.
- Mm-hmm.
- I-I get it.
- Really bad.
- Two minutes, people!
- It's time.
So, are you gonna
play it at the faster tempo?
- Poof, poof, poof.
- It's too late. It's not
how we rehearsed it.
Inga, a little more on the forehead.
- Poof.
- Bob needs a little, too.
- Poof.
- [COUGHING] Oh. Th-Thank you.
[TINA] Think Felix is still mad at us
- for trapping him in the secret room?
- [ORCHESTRA TUNING INSTRUMENTS]
He'll get over it.
He's a big boy. Sorta.
-[GROWLING]
-[GENE] Wish he'd stop staring, though.
Waving.
- Punk!
- [LINDA] Bob,
- sit, sit. It's about to start.
- [APPLAUSE]
- Wait, what's on your face?
- Oh, it's, uh, powder.
You look good. [SIGHS]
The concertmaster.
I hope he gets tromboned
in the strombolis.
[ORCHESTRA PLAYING SLOWLY]
[BOB SIGHS]
He-He's not gonna do
it. The tempo thing.
Well, he's doing okay.
Looks a little stiff.
[LOUISE] A lot stiff.
[GENE] Mr. Stiffy up there.
♪
[TEMPO PICKS UP]
- Oh, my God.
- Is he doing the fast thing?
[BOB] I think he's trying?
[ORCHESTRA PLAYING QUICKLY]
[VIOLIN PLAYING MORE SLOWLY]
[BOB] Uh-oh. The concertmaster's
trying to get them to play it slower.
[GASPS] It's a tempo battle.
They're tempo battling.
[ORCHESTRA PLAYING RAPIDLY]
[BOB] Is the orchestra into it?
And are people bopping a little bit?
Looks like people are bopping.
[GRUNTING RHYTHMICALLY]
♪
[GRUNTS]
- Hair toss moment.
- Damn.
That's my landlord.
♪
Ha-ha!