Married with Children s05e01 Episode Script
We'll Follow the Sun
Hey, Chicago, what a day for a daydream.
Show me an unhappy man today, and I'll show you a-- A shoe salesman, Jim.
Twentieth-century blacksmith, a working man, an idiot.
I'll feel better after I have a nice cup of coffee.
Life is good.
Hi, honey.
Heh-heh.
Did you miss me? With every bullet so far.
Well, maybe you need a bigger gun, sweetheart.
Not that I don't love your itty-bitty one.
What got you up before noon, Peg? Oh, a foul, evil wind.
You were snoring through your nose, mouth and ears.
But I forgive you because today is the day the new fall preview issue of TV Guide comes out.
Oh, look at it, Al.
It's still warm.
Mm-hm.
Well, pass it over my coffee.
Are you so jaded that even the new TV season doesn't get you going? I mean, look at these new shows.
"Everything's Comin' up Maggie.
High jinks ensue when Maggie-- " Chastity Bono.
"-- accidentally becomes vice president of the United States.
" Saturdays.
Ooh, and look.
"We Are Family.
A Chinese family with three children.
" Oh.
I get it.
We Are Fami-Lee.
Ah, Jesus.
It's here! It's here! My high school diploma.
I couldn't wait for the mailman to come, so I just took it out of his truck.
I am a high school graduate.
Read it to me, Mom.
What does it say? What does it say? Oh, Al, isn't this exciting? Oh, leave me alone.
Good morning, everybody.
Any chicks call for me this morning? Yeah, the, uh, Malaysian mail-order bride company called.
No takers.
Apparently, even poor, hungry women from the Third World think they can do better.
Yuck it up, future welfare mother.
The babes will be calling aplenty soon.
I'm a senior now.
A mover.
A shaker.
I'm the man.
I've got the juice.
Yup.
When I was a freshman, they flushed my head down the toilet.
When I was a sophomore, they flushed my head down the toilet.
When I was a junior, I was getting cool, so they let me flush it myself.
But now, I'm a senior and ready to rule.
This year, he's back.
He's cool.
He's dry.
Until he goes to sleep.
Oh, Al, our little man.
Heh-heh-heh.
Go away.
I'm home! Marcie, you don't live here.
I know.
No one actually lives here.
I meant I'm back from my two weeks' vacation.
You didn't know I was gone? So you didn't remember to air out my house, or water the plants, or feed the goldfish? Oh, well.
At least my life is back on track.
I spent my two weeks off at a seminar: "You Are What You Were.
" So you are a chicken.
With a bad haircut.
You know, that would have bothered me before, when I was what I'm not.
But now that I am what I was, I was what I am.
Stand back, she's getting ready to eat spinach, and then her tattoo will get all big.
You moron, it's not I yam what I yam.
That's '80s.
The point is, I'm confident and renewed.
So confident, in fact, that I stopped by my bank and demanded my old job back.
And after 20 minutes of frugging on my boss' desk in my slip, while the other tellers tossed quarters at me, I am once again what I was: a dignified bank manager.
Ah, gee, Al, isn't this great? Everybody has the start of a whole new life, except for you and the dog.
Well, that all but throws the dirt in my face.
Everybody, I have an announcement.
Your happiness sickens me.
Everybody but me is looking at good times.
But for me, it's been one long continuous year since I got married.
Actually, one long month.
Helluary.
But I'm not bold enough to expect happiness.
I know that wasn't meant for me.
But what I'd like one time in my life is for something new to happen to me.
Something special.
You're right, honey.
You know what you need? A good night job.
Is that all I am to you? An oxen to be worked in the field until he drops dead? Well, gee, honey.
What did you think you were to us? Well, perhaps husband, perhaps father.
Perhaps the man who's about to run amuck with a meat cleaver if he doesn't have any fun! Now, family, I've just made a decision.
We're going on a Labor Day vacation.
Oh, no way.
Aw.
Aw.
Shut up.
But, honey, what about the new TV season? I do not want to miss the special premiere of Grandmaster and the Gopher.
"It's an hour drama with comic overtones "about a rapper who goes to the center of the Earth and raps with the mole people.
" Oh, and look.
Sally Struthers is the queen.
Oh, Mom.
I am talking about vacation, litter of my loins.
Now, I shall tell you where we will holiday.
We're gonna go where people pretend they want to go when they can't afford to go someplace good.
We're gonna see America.
We take no map, we'll follow the sun.
We'll stay in cheap motels and steal what we need along the way.
We go west, past the cheese factories, where the air is fresh, sky is big, and a man can still kill his dinner with his car.
Guys, tomorrow, we put the pedal to the metal, and we ride with the wind.
Gee, Al, uh, think you could slow down? My hair is just whipping in the wind.
He's not scaring you, is he, kids? Sorry, Mom.
I couldn't hear you over the roar of the engine.
Come on, leave Daddy alone.
I mean, how could he possibly know that there would be a traffic jam on Labor Day? Shut up.
Al, we have not moved an inch in two hours.
Peg, I can hear that in our bedroom.
Now, just shut up and let me enjoy myself.
I could hear that in our bedroom too, honey.
Ah, I'm not gonna let you ruin this for me, Peg.
Yep, this is my vacation, and I'm havin' fun.
I'm lovin' this.
Move! Move! I can't take anymore.
Oh, God, you're killing me.
Move! Move! Daddy? What? Are we there yet? If you don't shut up, I'm gonna put the car in park and just sit here.
Oooh! Peg, could you control them? I'm trying to drive.
Will we be back by next Thursday, honey? Look.
"Nun of This.
"About a nun who's had enough.
"Karen Valentine is Sister Lash.
a nun with a gun.
" Enough, woman! Now, I know what'll take our minds off this.
How 'bout a family sing-along? Well, I don't know, honey.
You sure you can sing and pay attention to the road at the same time? Don't make me pull over, Peg.
Okay.
With me.
* Oh, the cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn * * Oh, the cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn * * The cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn * * And the farmer said It would do no harm * * Second verse Same as the first * * A little bit louder But a little bit worse * Everybody.
* Oh, the cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn-- * Hey! Would you shut the hell up! Are you talking to me? No.
I'm yelling at you.
Shut the hell up! * Oh * * The cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn * * The cow kicked Nellie In the belly * * In the barn * Hey, I said shut up! And if I don't? Then you'll be gummin' "The Cow Kicked Nellie.
" Take the wheel, Peg.
Now, look, pal, if you want trouble with me, you-- Honey! Al! Honey, we are in the middle of the expressway.
Yes, Gerry, don't you have anything better to do than to pick a fight with a moron? Just who are you calling moron? Your husband, you painted huss-- Fight! Whoo! Yeah! Gerry! Gerry! Gerry! Al! We're moving! Come on, honey.
Let's go.
Here we go.
Is that it? Yeah.
Let's go.
Honey, I'm just gonna reason with him.
After all, we're human beings, right? We're not animals-- Oh, please.
What's wrong with you people? All right, so I made a teeny little mistake actually leaving on Labor Day, but it's done.
We're in hell, let's enjoy it.
It's our vacation, for God's sake.
Just look around.
Tell me what you see.
I can see our house.
Great, Dad.
Five hours on the road and we're almost home.
Dope.
Idiot.
Buffoon.
I- I got another idea.
Oh, put up the top, so we don't get a windburn? That's it! I'm flooring it right into this bus! Dad, no! No, Dad! No, no, no, Al! Honey, no, no, it's okay.
We love you.
What's your idea, sweetie? We love you, Daddy.
Well, uh, I was gonna say, let's play geography.
You know, I'll name a state or a country, and the next person names one that begins with the letter the last one ended with.
Sound good? Sounds great.
Oh, man, let's play.
You start, Daddy.
Okay.
Alaska.
A.
Peg? Asia.
Bud? A.
Africa.
Kel? A.
Honey, she's really trying.
I know.
I know.
Hey, we need some music.
That'll get us out of this.
How 'bout some good old American road music? Al? What? Honey, I have to go to the bathroom.
But don't you worry about it.
I-- I'm just gonna run back to the house, and I'll be right back.
Alabammer.
Daddy.
R.
Hello.
Heh-heh-heh.
Hi.
Oh.
Boy, that takes me back.
Oh, hello, everybody.
Hey, I'm sorry I'm late.
But I, uh-- I took a nap and ate and-- Oh, watched the premiere of All-Night Security Dude.
You know, I think it's the part that Erik Estrada was born to play.
Did I miss anything? Yes, Peg, you did.
Kids, show Mommy what she missed.
This sucks, Daddy! You'll rot in a lowly grave! Why don't you take us home? You're not my father! We wanna go home! We wanna go home! About four hours of that, Peg, that's what you missed.
And you couldn't wait for me, huh? All right, look.
It's almost 9:00.
Traffic always thins out about now.
So everybody buckle your seat belts up, 'cause any minute now, we ride.
Okay, kids, rise and shine.
Where are we? No sense in starting the day with stupid questions.
Al, we haven't moved.
That's it.
Come on, kids.
We're going home.
Now, wait a second.
Where you going? You'll miss all the fun.
Al, you reek.
I reek? I? I, who only wanted to share in the joy and brotherhood of a family outing, reek? Well, let me tell you what reeks, okay? Now, what reeks is this facade that we call Labor Day.
Honk if you hate Labor Day! You know what else reeks? Families reek.
Honk if you hate families! Because they are truly the reason Labor Day reeks.
Once a year, they're on these highways and byways.
And what do they say? "We hate this.
" "We hate you.
" "Idiot.
" "Moron.
" "Buffoon," Daddy.
"Buffoon, Daddy.
" But what about us? The ones who truly labor? We're on this stinking road every day, choking and wheezing, marching along like lemmings to a horrible, screaming death.
Who cries for us, Argentina? Not our families.
Well, we can't expect that.
The yoke on the oxen feels no guilt.
But what we can expect is that on our one lousy, stinkin' day off, traffic can move us to our lousy, stinkin', pathetic destinations.
To our polluted beaches, our burning forests, our wheezing grandmas, to our family barbecues with Uncle Otto and his runny eye.
But does the highway department prepare for us? Are they out here helping us? Are they out there in front of us, by that first damn car that caused this traffic jam, saying, "Step on the gas, you moron! Let the 20 million people pass!" They are not.
Why? Because they don't care.
And that, my friends, is what really reeks.
So let's face it.
We're not moving.
We're just lining up to die.
But let's show them that the American spirit is not dead.
So join me, will you, on this, our Labor Day, and get out of your cars and tear this highway to bits! Go into your trunks! Get your tire irons and your road flares! Burn, baby, burn! Vengeance is ours! Al! We're moving! Huh? Uh, we aremoving.
Everyone! We are moving.
In your cars.
In your cars.
Kids, let's go.
Let's go.
See? I told you to stick with me.
Now, buckle up.
Now, we ride.
Flat tire.
Everyone out.
I'll see you next Tuesday, Al.
Come on, kids, we can still catch Mark Spitz and Greg Louganis in Swim Gyms.
It's a story about synchronized swimmers that solve crimes in their spare time.
Fine.
Go.
I don't need ya.
I got my people.
People.
I've got a flat tire.
Who will help me? Move that car! Now-- Now, there's no-- There's no reason to throw things.
Now, get-- Get back in your cars.
Stay calm! All right, let's get him!
Show me an unhappy man today, and I'll show you a-- A shoe salesman, Jim.
Twentieth-century blacksmith, a working man, an idiot.
I'll feel better after I have a nice cup of coffee.
Life is good.
Hi, honey.
Heh-heh.
Did you miss me? With every bullet so far.
Well, maybe you need a bigger gun, sweetheart.
Not that I don't love your itty-bitty one.
What got you up before noon, Peg? Oh, a foul, evil wind.
You were snoring through your nose, mouth and ears.
But I forgive you because today is the day the new fall preview issue of TV Guide comes out.
Oh, look at it, Al.
It's still warm.
Mm-hm.
Well, pass it over my coffee.
Are you so jaded that even the new TV season doesn't get you going? I mean, look at these new shows.
"Everything's Comin' up Maggie.
High jinks ensue when Maggie-- " Chastity Bono.
"-- accidentally becomes vice president of the United States.
" Saturdays.
Ooh, and look.
"We Are Family.
A Chinese family with three children.
" Oh.
I get it.
We Are Fami-Lee.
Ah, Jesus.
It's here! It's here! My high school diploma.
I couldn't wait for the mailman to come, so I just took it out of his truck.
I am a high school graduate.
Read it to me, Mom.
What does it say? What does it say? Oh, Al, isn't this exciting? Oh, leave me alone.
Good morning, everybody.
Any chicks call for me this morning? Yeah, the, uh, Malaysian mail-order bride company called.
No takers.
Apparently, even poor, hungry women from the Third World think they can do better.
Yuck it up, future welfare mother.
The babes will be calling aplenty soon.
I'm a senior now.
A mover.
A shaker.
I'm the man.
I've got the juice.
Yup.
When I was a freshman, they flushed my head down the toilet.
When I was a sophomore, they flushed my head down the toilet.
When I was a junior, I was getting cool, so they let me flush it myself.
But now, I'm a senior and ready to rule.
This year, he's back.
He's cool.
He's dry.
Until he goes to sleep.
Oh, Al, our little man.
Heh-heh-heh.
Go away.
I'm home! Marcie, you don't live here.
I know.
No one actually lives here.
I meant I'm back from my two weeks' vacation.
You didn't know I was gone? So you didn't remember to air out my house, or water the plants, or feed the goldfish? Oh, well.
At least my life is back on track.
I spent my two weeks off at a seminar: "You Are What You Were.
" So you are a chicken.
With a bad haircut.
You know, that would have bothered me before, when I was what I'm not.
But now that I am what I was, I was what I am.
Stand back, she's getting ready to eat spinach, and then her tattoo will get all big.
You moron, it's not I yam what I yam.
That's '80s.
The point is, I'm confident and renewed.
So confident, in fact, that I stopped by my bank and demanded my old job back.
And after 20 minutes of frugging on my boss' desk in my slip, while the other tellers tossed quarters at me, I am once again what I was: a dignified bank manager.
Ah, gee, Al, isn't this great? Everybody has the start of a whole new life, except for you and the dog.
Well, that all but throws the dirt in my face.
Everybody, I have an announcement.
Your happiness sickens me.
Everybody but me is looking at good times.
But for me, it's been one long continuous year since I got married.
Actually, one long month.
Helluary.
But I'm not bold enough to expect happiness.
I know that wasn't meant for me.
But what I'd like one time in my life is for something new to happen to me.
Something special.
You're right, honey.
You know what you need? A good night job.
Is that all I am to you? An oxen to be worked in the field until he drops dead? Well, gee, honey.
What did you think you were to us? Well, perhaps husband, perhaps father.
Perhaps the man who's about to run amuck with a meat cleaver if he doesn't have any fun! Now, family, I've just made a decision.
We're going on a Labor Day vacation.
Oh, no way.
Aw.
Aw.
Shut up.
But, honey, what about the new TV season? I do not want to miss the special premiere of Grandmaster and the Gopher.
"It's an hour drama with comic overtones "about a rapper who goes to the center of the Earth and raps with the mole people.
" Oh, and look.
Sally Struthers is the queen.
Oh, Mom.
I am talking about vacation, litter of my loins.
Now, I shall tell you where we will holiday.
We're gonna go where people pretend they want to go when they can't afford to go someplace good.
We're gonna see America.
We take no map, we'll follow the sun.
We'll stay in cheap motels and steal what we need along the way.
We go west, past the cheese factories, where the air is fresh, sky is big, and a man can still kill his dinner with his car.
Guys, tomorrow, we put the pedal to the metal, and we ride with the wind.
Gee, Al, uh, think you could slow down? My hair is just whipping in the wind.
He's not scaring you, is he, kids? Sorry, Mom.
I couldn't hear you over the roar of the engine.
Come on, leave Daddy alone.
I mean, how could he possibly know that there would be a traffic jam on Labor Day? Shut up.
Al, we have not moved an inch in two hours.
Peg, I can hear that in our bedroom.
Now, just shut up and let me enjoy myself.
I could hear that in our bedroom too, honey.
Ah, I'm not gonna let you ruin this for me, Peg.
Yep, this is my vacation, and I'm havin' fun.
I'm lovin' this.
Move! Move! I can't take anymore.
Oh, God, you're killing me.
Move! Move! Daddy? What? Are we there yet? If you don't shut up, I'm gonna put the car in park and just sit here.
Oooh! Peg, could you control them? I'm trying to drive.
Will we be back by next Thursday, honey? Look.
"Nun of This.
"About a nun who's had enough.
"Karen Valentine is Sister Lash.
a nun with a gun.
" Enough, woman! Now, I know what'll take our minds off this.
How 'bout a family sing-along? Well, I don't know, honey.
You sure you can sing and pay attention to the road at the same time? Don't make me pull over, Peg.
Okay.
With me.
* Oh, the cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn * * Oh, the cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn * * The cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn * * And the farmer said It would do no harm * * Second verse Same as the first * * A little bit louder But a little bit worse * Everybody.
* Oh, the cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn-- * Hey! Would you shut the hell up! Are you talking to me? No.
I'm yelling at you.
Shut the hell up! * Oh * * The cow kicked Nellie In the belly in the barn * * The cow kicked Nellie In the belly * * In the barn * Hey, I said shut up! And if I don't? Then you'll be gummin' "The Cow Kicked Nellie.
" Take the wheel, Peg.
Now, look, pal, if you want trouble with me, you-- Honey! Al! Honey, we are in the middle of the expressway.
Yes, Gerry, don't you have anything better to do than to pick a fight with a moron? Just who are you calling moron? Your husband, you painted huss-- Fight! Whoo! Yeah! Gerry! Gerry! Gerry! Al! We're moving! Come on, honey.
Let's go.
Here we go.
Is that it? Yeah.
Let's go.
Honey, I'm just gonna reason with him.
After all, we're human beings, right? We're not animals-- Oh, please.
What's wrong with you people? All right, so I made a teeny little mistake actually leaving on Labor Day, but it's done.
We're in hell, let's enjoy it.
It's our vacation, for God's sake.
Just look around.
Tell me what you see.
I can see our house.
Great, Dad.
Five hours on the road and we're almost home.
Dope.
Idiot.
Buffoon.
I- I got another idea.
Oh, put up the top, so we don't get a windburn? That's it! I'm flooring it right into this bus! Dad, no! No, Dad! No, no, no, Al! Honey, no, no, it's okay.
We love you.
What's your idea, sweetie? We love you, Daddy.
Well, uh, I was gonna say, let's play geography.
You know, I'll name a state or a country, and the next person names one that begins with the letter the last one ended with.
Sound good? Sounds great.
Oh, man, let's play.
You start, Daddy.
Okay.
Alaska.
A.
Peg? Asia.
Bud? A.
Africa.
Kel? A.
Honey, she's really trying.
I know.
I know.
Hey, we need some music.
That'll get us out of this.
How 'bout some good old American road music? Al? What? Honey, I have to go to the bathroom.
But don't you worry about it.
I-- I'm just gonna run back to the house, and I'll be right back.
Alabammer.
Daddy.
R.
Hello.
Heh-heh-heh.
Hi.
Oh.
Boy, that takes me back.
Oh, hello, everybody.
Hey, I'm sorry I'm late.
But I, uh-- I took a nap and ate and-- Oh, watched the premiere of All-Night Security Dude.
You know, I think it's the part that Erik Estrada was born to play.
Did I miss anything? Yes, Peg, you did.
Kids, show Mommy what she missed.
This sucks, Daddy! You'll rot in a lowly grave! Why don't you take us home? You're not my father! We wanna go home! We wanna go home! About four hours of that, Peg, that's what you missed.
And you couldn't wait for me, huh? All right, look.
It's almost 9:00.
Traffic always thins out about now.
So everybody buckle your seat belts up, 'cause any minute now, we ride.
Okay, kids, rise and shine.
Where are we? No sense in starting the day with stupid questions.
Al, we haven't moved.
That's it.
Come on, kids.
We're going home.
Now, wait a second.
Where you going? You'll miss all the fun.
Al, you reek.
I reek? I? I, who only wanted to share in the joy and brotherhood of a family outing, reek? Well, let me tell you what reeks, okay? Now, what reeks is this facade that we call Labor Day.
Honk if you hate Labor Day! You know what else reeks? Families reek.
Honk if you hate families! Because they are truly the reason Labor Day reeks.
Once a year, they're on these highways and byways.
And what do they say? "We hate this.
" "We hate you.
" "Idiot.
" "Moron.
" "Buffoon," Daddy.
"Buffoon, Daddy.
" But what about us? The ones who truly labor? We're on this stinking road every day, choking and wheezing, marching along like lemmings to a horrible, screaming death.
Who cries for us, Argentina? Not our families.
Well, we can't expect that.
The yoke on the oxen feels no guilt.
But what we can expect is that on our one lousy, stinkin' day off, traffic can move us to our lousy, stinkin', pathetic destinations.
To our polluted beaches, our burning forests, our wheezing grandmas, to our family barbecues with Uncle Otto and his runny eye.
But does the highway department prepare for us? Are they out here helping us? Are they out there in front of us, by that first damn car that caused this traffic jam, saying, "Step on the gas, you moron! Let the 20 million people pass!" They are not.
Why? Because they don't care.
And that, my friends, is what really reeks.
So let's face it.
We're not moving.
We're just lining up to die.
But let's show them that the American spirit is not dead.
So join me, will you, on this, our Labor Day, and get out of your cars and tear this highway to bits! Go into your trunks! Get your tire irons and your road flares! Burn, baby, burn! Vengeance is ours! Al! We're moving! Huh? Uh, we aremoving.
Everyone! We are moving.
In your cars.
In your cars.
Kids, let's go.
Let's go.
See? I told you to stick with me.
Now, buckle up.
Now, we ride.
Flat tire.
Everyone out.
I'll see you next Tuesday, Al.
Come on, kids, we can still catch Mark Spitz and Greg Louganis in Swim Gyms.
It's a story about synchronized swimmers that solve crimes in their spare time.
Fine.
Go.
I don't need ya.
I got my people.
People.
I've got a flat tire.
Who will help me? Move that car! Now-- Now, there's no-- There's no reason to throw things.
Now, get-- Get back in your cars.
Stay calm! All right, let's get him!