Family Guy s03e12 Episode Script

To Live and Die in Dixie

"It seems today that all you see "Is violence in movies and sex on TV "But where are those|good old-fashioned values "On which we used to rely? "Lucky there's a family guy "Lucky there's a man who positively|can do all the things that make us "Laugh and cry "He's a family guy - Hi, Chris.
|- (gasps and grunts) Hi, Barbara.
I'm having a birthday party.
|I was hoping you could come.
Oh, no! Someone peed in my pants! You're funny.
Well, I hope you can make it.
Your friend's party sounds like fun, Chris.
But I hope the cake's better|than the last party I went to.
(screams) Oh, God.
Coconut.
I wanna get Barbara a really nice gift.
What|kind of gifts have boys gotten for you, Meg? Oh well My boyfriend Prince William|got me this beautiful watch.
And this diamond tiara.
|And this wonderful sceptre.
(laughs wildly) (wails) She needs to get laid, big-time.
I read a book saying women are from Venus,|so here's what you get her.
Layers of sulphuric acid,|viscous surface rock, and coronae, which seem to be domes over|large magma chambers.
Here's five dollars.
That's OK, Dad.
I was thinking about getting|a paper route so I could buy her gift myself.
I think that's very sweet, honey.
Oh, boy.
I remember my first job.
|I was in a folk music trio.
Hey, how about|"Here's To You, Mrs Fleckenstein"? You've been pitching that for an hour.
|It's not an attractive name.
Oh, fine.
I suppose we're also not going with "Parsley, Sage,|Rosemary and Lawry's Seasoning Salt".
That's it.
I'm going to Nam.
Hey, there, young fella.
|Bringin' me good news today? - What?|- Come on over here, son.
Hand me the paper,|so I don't need to use my grabber.
Mm.
- That's a nice muscly throwin' arm you got.
|- Uh, thanks.
Got a nice tip for you right here|in my pocket, but my arthritis Why don't you reach in|and fish it out for yourself? That's OK, mister.
|I don't collect till the end of the month.
I'll see you tomorrow.
(mutters) Weird.
(disco music) - I hope you like it.
|- Wow, perfume.
That is so sweet.
It'll make you smell like Elizabeth Taylor.
So|I guess you'll smell of bourbon and Vicodin.
- That's very thoughtful.
|- Can I spray some on you? - Ow! My eyes!|- They're beautiful.
Just get away from me, Chris! I'm so awkward! Hey, muscly-arm.
Why the long face? It's this girl.
I can't talk to her.
It's like|girls are a different species or somethin'.
- Aw, who needs 'em? You like Popsicles?|- Well, sure.
Then you need to come on down to the cellar.
|I got a whole freezer full of Popsicles.
Mm.
No, thanks.
I gotta get goin'.
- Don't make me beg, now.
|- (laughs) You're funny.
Bye.
Get your fat ass back here.
- This is a hold-up.
Open the register.
|- It only opens when you make a sale.
All right, then give me one of them|horoscope scrolls and some Skittles.
"Financial transaction|benefits you today.
" Oooh! Weird! (siren) All right! A bike! I'm outta here.
Your parents are on their way, but since time|is a factor here we'd like to get an ID quickly.
- Are you sure he can't see me?|- Absolutely, Chris.
You're 100% safe.
OK.
That's him.
Number six.
Hi.
Excuse me, you guys.
|I'm here to pick up my son, Chris Griffin.
He's here to finger the guy who held up that|store.
Maybe you've seen him.
Chris Griffin.
Wait a second, I got a picture of him|somewhere.
Here you go.
Hang on to that, I got a ton of 'em at home.
|I was gonna throw that one out anyway.
Chris messed it up by writing his school|schedule and a list of his fears on the back.
We're so proud of you, Chris,|for helping to put that horrible man in jail.
You couldn't have said|it was CĂ©line Dion, huh? Our chance to put that showboating|Canadian wench behind bars and you blow it.
We now return|to the "E! True Hollywood Story: ALF".
By the third season|I was completely wasted all the time.
I'd lost all control of my bodily functions.
They had to cut the crap out of my fur|before each taping.
But, uh, would I do it all again? (man) We interrupt this programme|for a news story.
Now over to Rhode Island State Penitentiary|and Asian reporter Tricia Takanawa.
Tricia? I'm at this maximum-security facility, where a|ruthless thug has engineered a daring escape.
Sir, do you have any plans|now that you're out of jail? Yeah.
I'm gonna go bang my girlfriend,|and then I'm gonna kill Chris Griffin! Good Lord! Can they really say|"bang my girlfriend" on TV? You wanna remove us from the area? This man will stop at nothing.
We're placing|you all in the Witness Protection Program.
Is Europe an option? I've always wanted|to spend a year in Prague teaching English.
Slacking off,|but really getting to know myself.
Until we catch this guy,|you'll be relocated to the Deep South.
- (all groan)|- The Deep South? Where the black guys are really lazy, and the white guys are just as lazy but|they're mad at the black guys for being lazy? Jenkins and I have been assigned|to live here and watch your house.
He's a slovenly liberal|and I'm a fastidious conservative.
- I smell a sitcom!|- I suggest you start packing immediately.
I can't believe I have to change schools|because of you.
This is all your fault, Lardo.
- Me? I had nothing to do with it.
|- I meant Chris.
Oh.
Yeah, Lardo.
Look, everybody.
Here we are.
|The town of Bumblescum.
- This is our house?|- Come on, Meg.
I bet if we fixed it up a little bit,|it could be a piece of crap.
- What's that smell?|- It's either bad meat or good cheese.
There's a penny underneath that couch.
- (all scream)|- Somebody's in the closet! You know you're a redneck|when your gun rack has a gun rack on it.
You suck! Oh, my.
Well, it's too hot to cook anyway.
|Peter, what's the upstairs like? There's a Crunch Berry under the fridge.
Mom, Chris found a jar in the basement|and it has a hand in it.
I'm gonna plant it and see if a human grows.
Well, at least the TV gets decent reception.
Must be some kind of nature show.
Help! Help! Get it off! Aaargh! Great.
We're here five minutes|and Dad gets mauled by a rodent.
- This place is horrible.
|- OK, everybody calm down.
We don't know anything|about this community.
I bet if we explore the town|we'll each find something about it we like.
That's a great idea.
|I just gotta hit the can.
I think there's just an outhouse.
Hey, Lois? I don't get how this works.
|It's just a hole.
I don't think it goes anywhere.
No, it definitely doesn't go anywhere.
- (splash)|- Aaaargh! Oh, God! Oh, it's everywhere! Aaaaargh! It's in my raccoon wounds! Oh, God! - Excuse me, do you have an ATM?|- Over there, ma'am.
- How much you wanna take out?|- 40 dollars.
There's a service charge of a buck 50.
|Do y'all accept? Yes.
Mm.
You smell like|the inside of my momma's purse.
(laughs nervously) Thank you.
What are those dulcet tones?|Why, this is the music of the angels! - What is that magical device?|- Banjo.
Pluck that string.
Oh, I feel so deliciously white-trash.
|Mommy, I want a mullet! All right, that about does it.
- Isn't she beautiful, Brian?|- The Duke boys would be proud.
Yeah, and you gotta get in|through the window, like this.
OK, now you.
Oh, sorry.
I forgot to roll yours down.
You all right? Hello? Wake up, sleepyhead.
- Hi.
|- Hi.
- Are you mad at that pond?|- Shoot, no.
'Course, this pond did kill my grandpappy.
He saw his reflection, thought it was him|and drowned trying to save himself.
That's why Mom|doesn't let me look in the toilet.
- I'm Sam.
|- I'm Chris.
Sam, come on in, now.
Well, I gotta go help my daddy bring in the|mud harvest.
Nice making your acquaintance.
Oh, my God, I'm drowning! (man on radio) That was Merle Haggard with|"I Kissed My Sweetie With My Fist".
Next - (click)|- There's one.
Let's jump that.
(both) Yeee-haaa! That was great! Next time, let's get Meg|to be Boss Hogg and Chris can be Anus.
- Enos.
|- What'd I say? - Anus.
|- (guffaws) Class, we have a new student joinin' us.
Everyone, please welcome|Megan Griffin, from the North.
(all gasp) What's it like there?|Y'all got them talkin' pictures? - And flyin' machines?|- And perfume for your armpits? - We sure do.
|- (all) Wow.
All right, that's enough questions for Megan.
|Time to hand back last week's spelling tests.
- And it looks like Oinky's set the curve again.
|- (kid) Dang.
- That is some smart pig.
|- Good thing I copied off Oinky.
Ta-da! Possum surprise.
Actually, I made it with Shake 'n Bake.
- And I helped.
|- Kids, where's your father? (Peter and Brian) Yeee-haaa! - What the hell are you doing?!|- Blendin' in.
Relax, Lois.
It's not our house.
I'm glad you're having fun, but we need|money.
Have you thought about a job? Yes, Lois, I have.
But I've also thought|about getting fired from that job.
Is that something you wanna put our family|through? Think about that while I get a drink.
Aaagh! Aaargh! Oh, God! Aaagh! It's right up here past this clearing.
- He's been here about three months now.
|- Wow.
Where do you think you go when you die? I learned at church that|if you're good you go to heaven.
If you're bad, you go to a place|where the dead believe they're still livin' and they pray for death,|but death won't come.
- UPN?|- (laughs) - You're funny.
I like you, Chris.
|- I like you too, Sam.
- Wanna poke him?|- Do I?! You know, it's true.
|The best things in life really are free.
I don't know.
Maybe Lois is right.
|Maybe it is time for me to get a job.
You always blow it in the interview.
So, Peter, where do you see yourself|in five years? (Peter thinks) Don't say "Doing your wife.
" Doing your son? Hey, Brian.
Look at that.
Y'all interested? We take turns being sheriff.
|You just hang out here, eat pie and get drunk.
Hold on a second.
"Pie"? "Drunk"? "The"? You got yourself a sheriff! - (slurred) Boy, it's so quiet around here.
|- I know.
The phone hasn't rung all day.
I kn I know.
There's nothin'|nothin' to, um to, uh um uh Oh, boy,|what's the word I'm looking for? Do.
Brian, you're drunk.
You're drunk.
Give me your keys.
- What is this, Dad?|- A Southern tradition, son.
It's a re-enactment of the Civil War.
Robert E Lee.
I knew I'd find you here,|where they seat the sorry-ass losers.
(laughs) Ulysses S Grant, you invite me to lunch|then show up an hour late, drunk? I was busy lookin' for your wife,|to give her the old Sir, this means war.
I am vanquished.
I hereby declare victory|in the name of the Confederacy.
(cheering and whooping) Excuse me.
I don't think|that's how it happened.
- I'm pretty sure the North won.
|- What are you sayin'? That drunken idiot kicked your sorry asses|south of the Donna Dixon Line.
We don't take kindly|to that sort of talk, mister.
And I sure as shoot don't want|your kid hangin' round with my kid.
And if you think I'm mad now, you gotta|answer to them Civil War survivors.
Wait! Look over there! It's an interracial|gay couple burning the American flag! Get 'em! - I guess we can't hang out any more.
|- I guess not.
That sucks,|cos I really like spending time with you.
Me too.
(Chris grunts) What are you doing? (Waylon Jennings) Them Griffin boys better|grow some wings, or start flappin' their arms.
("Dukes of Hazzard" style music) - Lost 'em!|- Blasted Lincoln-lovers.
Anyone seen my foot? Man, was last night weird.
I kissed a boy! But|I really like him as a friend.
His name is Sam.
- You kissed Sam last night?|- How did you know? You said it out loud.
|I heard you in the other room.
The weird thing is,|kissing Sam kind of felt right.
But I don't know if I can face him again.
|Brian, what should I do? I haven't been this confused|since the end of No Way Out.
How does Kevin Costner keep getting work? - Argh! How do I shoot? How do I shoot?|- Press B button.
(knocking) - Telegram for Chris Griffin.
|- He's not here.
- Where is he?|- I can't release that information.
Oh, did I say Chris? I meant Chris's sister.
Oh, well, if it's for Meg,|that's a whole other story.
Here's her address.
- What are you doing?|- You were busy.
I played your guy.
- I didn't wanna play.
|- So it's good for everybody.
- I'm gonna draw boobs on the Etch A Sketch.
|- They'll end up square.
- Oh, hi, Chris.
|- Hey.
Um, listen, Sam.
|I like hangin' out with you and all, it's just that I don't want|a romantic relationship.
- But I'd like it if we could still be friends.
|- I'd like that too.
Wanna go for a swim? Sure.
- You're a girl?!|- Of course I am.
Oh, my God! (Southern accent) Warm out today.
Warm yesterday.
Even warmer today.
"Met her on my CB, said her name was Mimi - " Sounded like an angel come to earth|- " Come to earth "When I went to meet her,|man, you should have seen her - " Twice as tall as me, three times the girth|- " Girth - " Oh, my fat baby loves to eat|- " Loves to eat "A big old Buddha belly|and her breasts swing past her feet "My fat baby loves to eat "My big ole fat-ass baby loves to eat (mimics John Lennon)|I got blisters on my fingers! - A drop more of the shine, my dear?|- Yes, please.
You know, the kids are gonna be|at that town social for a while.
I think I know where you're going.
(both giggle) Aaagh! Aaagh! Oh, God! Aaagh! Aaagh! - (phone rings)|- Hello? Hello, Mrs Griffin? Yeah.
|Shh! Shut up! You guys, shut up! Yeah, this is the FBI, calling from your house.
Oh, hi.
How is everything? Good, good.
Real good.
Listen, promise you won't be mad,|and it's probably nothing, but you know that criminal who's after your|son? He might know where you guys are.
What?! Peter, that criminal is on his way here|to kill Chris.
We gotta call the sheriff.
- Holy crap.
I'm on it, Lois.
|- (mobile phone rings) Sheriff's office.
Yes, this is Peter Griffin.
I'd|like to report a criminal coming into town.
I'm sorry, could you repeat your name?|Yes, it's Peter Griffin.
G-r-i-f-f-i-n.
- You're the sheriff?|- One sec, honey.
I'm on the phone.
- Who's that? My wife.
|- Peter, Chris is in danger! Do something! Round up a posse.
Yeah, well, see, I kinda pissed off the whole|town at that Civil War re-enactment.
- What are we gonna do?|- I don't know, Lois.
But I feel lower than a bow-legged caterpillar.
(laughs) Now here's Roy.
- Sure is a ding-dang of a hoedown.
|- Uh-uh.
This here's a hootenanny.
- Hoedown!|- Hootenanny! - Hoedown!|- Hootenanny! Thank you.
Thank you very much.
Thank you.
Oh, and to the owner of a John Deere tractor,|you're parked on top of a pig.
John Deere tractor on top of a pig.
- Sam, can I talk to you?|- Sure.
But why aren't you lookin' at me? Well, that's the thing.
I'm no good at talking|to girls.
That's why I ran away from you.
You didn't have trouble talkin' to me|when you thought I was a boy.
Yeah, that's true.
- Just pretend I'm a boy.
|- OK.
You wanna go down|to the old town bridge and make out? Yes, sir! And in the city,|glasses are considered really sexy.
(all) Ooooh.
Dang, I hope her brother|don't already have dibs on her.
- Where's Chris? That criminal's here.
|- He's down by the old town bridge.
You know, my brother|is the one he's here to kill.
My daughter would absolutely love you.
You're so cute.
|You're like a skinny Garth Brooks.
- Aha! I got you now, Griffin!|- Aaagh! - Not so fast, buddy!|- Who are you? You can call me Officer TJ Hooker.
Sheriff Officer TJ Hooker.
And this is my deputy, McMillan and Wife.
I hated TJ Hooker.
And I never actually saw|McMillan and Wife, although I was aware of it.
Anyway, you're dead! Ha! You're mine now, fella! (clicks) Aagh! Aagh! Aargh! Dad! Help! Dad! (gunshot) - You folks all right?|- Wow, you guys saved our lives.
And after I said|all Southerners have bad teeth and the gum disease known as gingivitis.
We take care of our own.
And as long as|y'all live here, y'all are Southerners too.
- Wow.
Thanks.
|- It's our pleasure.
Sam, I'll see you at home.
I think the lesson here is|it doesn't matter where you're from, as long as we're all the same religion.
- It was great having you in class, Meg.
|- Thanks.
I'm really gonna miss everybody.
We didn't have no money for a present,|so we all just spit in a jar.
- I can't believe you're leavin'.
|- Me either.
- I'll be sure to write.
|- And I'll be sure to learn to read.
Next time I see a dead guy, I'm gonna|poke him twice as hard for both of us.
Ah, it's so nice to be home.
(woman) You have 113 new messages.
Oh, my.
(old man) Uh, yeah,|I was just wondering uh mm-hm where the newspaper boy was.
(beep) Haven't seen a newspaper in a couple of days.
|Wonderin' if you're ever gonna come back.
(beep) Guess who.
|Sorry to leave you so many messages.
Just Ionely here, thinkin' 'bout|the muscly-armed paper boy.
- Wishin' he'd bring me some good news.
|- (beep) - Where are you?|- (beep) You're startin' to piss me off,|you little piggly son of a bitch.
Call me.