The Fist and the Furious

Cleveland! Come on, baby, we're gonna go for a ride in the car! The car?! Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy. oh, boy! Going for a ride! Going in the car! Riding in the car! Doctor's appointment? Doctor's appointment. Doctor's appointment? Just a quick checkup. But he's gonna poke my booty hole! You don't know that. He might not. Oh, you're right. Not in these frumpy dad pants. Boo Oh, don't worry, Cleveland. You're not scheduled for an ass jam for another two months. You're still gonna do the Cup 'n' Cough, right? 'Cause this one should be free. Wait a minute. This is from the yogurt place. Uh! They should not be doing that! You're a hoot, Cleveland. No, I'm a walrus! I have literally never seen anyone do that before! Oh, you can just put those back in the jar. What the hell? I told Junior to pack me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, whatevadefrickdahwuz. Try it! Gah! Oh, man, we gotta put a bell around your neck. I decided to try something new. I made you a deconstructed peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Sourdough crostini, spherified raspberry puree and Thai peanut foam. Wait, this is like that scientific cooking trend I saw on the Food Network when I flew JetBlue to my great-grandma Etta James' funeral! Sorry for your loss, but yes. "Molecular gastronomy. " It combines two of my favorite things: food and nerd stuff! Gimme one dem. Whoa! My taste butts are loving this! Fierce-looking lunch, girl! I'd pay fab cash to wrap my lips around those nuggets. You would, huh? Finally, a "thcool" lunch for the "thophithticated" palate! We're a hit, Junior! I've never been so happy to watch other people eat my food! Oh What the hell? Oye, niños! Choni's food truck is open for business! Get your one dollar burritos, quesadillas and virgin Bud Light Clamatos! And your first taco is free! Yay, cheap Mexican food! Dancing dog! I'm five. I just like running! We now return to CBS's hit comedy, Two-And-A-Half Broke Man-Girls. Okay, be honest. Does this dress make my balls look fat? No way! It's giving me a total boob boner. I just got my period. Yeap-yeap? Hi, Cleveland. Dr. Fist. I got the results back from the urine sample you left all over the bathroom. Hilarious, by the way. But I'd like you to come back in for a few more tests. Is there something wrong? Oh, no, no, no, no. Of course not. Everything's fine. Just get here as fast as you can. Okay. And he's had me back every day this week for throat cultures, biopsies, organ probes, cheek swab, nastral swab, weenie swab. But he won't tell me what's wrong. Sounds like he doesn't want to break the bad news to you till he's absolutely sure. Sounds like you're a goner. Donna the Bear Clevebro, you're dying. It's the only explanation. I've got to do everything I ever wanted to do before it's too late. Bucket List. Nicholson. Freeman. Never saw it. On my bucket list. Shut up. I'll start with something I've dreamed of doing as long as I can remember. Yes, I've always wanted to eat ice cream for breakfast. I've been afraid, 'cause Donna said I'd turn into ice cream. But at this point, I'm willing to take that risk. I'm still a "mamammal. " I can do anything! So that's it? Just the ice cream? Yep. Oh, and I've always wanted to fight a hundred Chinese guys in an old, dusty town square. Yah! Just wait till I use your own momentum against you! Nup! Oh, I do love you so. By the way, when I was at the bottom of the pile of Chineses, I bit one of them right in the water chestnuts. I'm telling you, there's no reason for you to be biting Orienticles! Dr. Fist would have told you if you were dying. Cleveland, I have bad news. Ah! I'm dying or we're canceled! It's one of them! Tell me we're not canceled! Cleveland, I lied. You didn't need any of those appointments. I just wanted to hang out with you, because, well I don't have any friends! So you're telling me you made me think I was dying, causing me to break my arms and the saltines I had in my pocket, all for nothing?! I know! I felt so guilty when I heard all of this happened! Can you ever forgive me? Heads I will, tails I won't. Uhp, rolled under the couch. Tie! Please forgive me, Cleveland. Dr. Fist, why didn't you just say you wanted to hang out with Cleveland instead of making him think he was dying? I couldn't ask a patient to hang out socially. It's unprofessional. I'm sorry, Cleveland. I just thought you were so much fun. You know, with that hilarious walrus impression? No! You don't deserve it. Cleveland, I feel bad for him. I mean, look at how pathetic he is. Will you be my friend? Oh, that's not even one of our cool plants. Just offer to have a beer with him sometime. Fine, fine. Dr. Fist, perhaps you'd like to have a beer sometime? Great! Why don't you come over to my place Thursday night? And bring those buddies of yours, too. Ed, Calvin and Rick the Moose? I was thinking of Holt, Lester and Tim the Bear. Oh, the second tier. Sure. Yo, Choni! This is our turf! Yeah! Nobody wants your kind here! And by that I mean competition and nothing offensive. So get the truck out of here! And by that, I mean get the out of here! There's an old saying in my country: "No way, José. " Well, there's only one way to respond to this. By working harder and providing an even better product at a competitive price. Hard work? That's for Mexicans. No, we gonna fix this the American way. By calling in a criminal cousin. What up, Sherrod. I got a job for you. What? You found Jesus?! Well, ask him would he mind if you blew up a truck. Hello? Damn-foo-think-he-bee-save. Gon-be-back-on-that-junk- by-Christmas. Doctor, Doctor, give me the news, I've got a Bad case of loving you! No pill's gonna cure my ill, I've got a Bad case of loving you! Ooh! Oh, that was great! Wow. So doctors make money? Dr. Fist, I may have been slightly peeved at you when I arrived but having reassessed the situation I've now decided we should be friends. Well, I'm glad to hear that, because it's wonderful to spend time with people again. I gotta ask, Doc. What happened to your friends, anyway? Well, it's a long, painful story. Oh, do tell! My phone fell in the toilet and I lost all my contacts. Oh! That's awful! What about your photos and your ideas for movies? Gone, Cleveland. All gone. It's just me. All alone in this world. That's sad. Yep, sad. So sad. Super sad. Sad. Sa Okay! No way. Is that life-size Operation?! You bet. If there's another way to learn medicine, I don't know it. Go ahead, Holt, remove the elbow joint, and then we will light it up and par-tay! Damn it! No, Holt, we're not playing strip. You're not. Yep All Night Life-Size Operation Party, everybody! I never thought I'd be giving a doctor a shot! Cleveland, it is my professional opinion that you are the funniest person in the world. Rallo! As I live and labor to breathe. Yo, Kendra, I'm trying to get this food truck shut down, and no judgment here, but I thought you might have a few bugs or rodents in your house? You came to the right disgusting place. We have a large selection of slugs and night crawlers. Just got a couple of new squirrels in. Oh, here's a diseased raccoon that might be a good fit for you. Well What about these ghetto ants? Sure, cock-a-roaches. A timeless classic. Oops, can't sell that one. He's like a son to me. Come here, Bernie. $5. 32, please. Thank you. Have a blessed day. Number 23. I'll take a pound and a half of the night crawlers. Hey, Dr. Fist! Hey, Pete! Herpes. Innie nipples. "Accidentally" sat on a bottle of Worcestershire sauce. It happens. Ah, it's nice having friends again. It's a welcome change from crying in my big, lonely house. Well, we have a surprise for you. Get in the car. You bought me a new car? No, get in my car. Now the real surprise is gonna seem terrible. So, uh, where are we going, Cleveland? As I tell a lot of pregnant women during delivery, you just passed the Stool. That's because the surprise isn't in the Stool. After you bummed us out saying how you've lost touch with everyone, I put a picture of you in an e-mail and wrote, "Do You Know This Guy?" Then I sent it to the entire Internet, with the subject "Lindsay Lohan autopsy photo. " You put my picture on the Internet? Yep, and I heard back from a group of your old friends, and we arranged a little get-together at the nicest restaurant that allows bears! What? No, no, no, those tho-those people aren't my friends, Cleveland! They're the Mob! And they want me dead! Whoa! These things go backwards? Game-changer! Cleveland, how could you tell them where I was? No, you know what? It's my fault for thinking I could have friends. Why? Fine, I'll tell you the whole story. First of all, "Chip Fist" is not my real name. My name is GreenJarvus Ben-Ellis. I once had a thriving private practice on Manhattan's Upper East Side. One night, I was eating at New York City's Italian restaurant when I was approached by a couple of for lack of a better word "goombahs. " Seeing my lab coat, which I always wear to let people know I am a doctor, they took me to a room in the back. One of their associates had multiple stab wounds in his greasy, hairy midsection, and needed medical attention. Before I knew it, I was the exclusive doctor to the New York Mafia. It was high-paying, steady work, mostly quadruple bypasses for the mobsters, and boob jobs for their fat meatball daughters. But soon thereafter, I said to myself, "GreenJarvus, you're a Ben-Ellis. "You're better than this. Get out while you still can. " As luck would have it, the night before I was to perform an aortic decheesification on the Mafia Don, I was approached by a couple of FBI agents. They said if I agreed to anesthetize the Godfather into a temporary coma so they'd have time to arrest him, they'd put me into Witness Relocation, and I could start a new life. The end. Wow! Hey, we lost 'em! Pull in the Stool! You're welcome to lay low as long as you need. And remember, all the decorative guns on the wall are loaded. As is a random urinal. Ow! Damn it, Gus! Ha! Sorry, friend! Oh, there you are. You wouldn't happen to know anything about a health inspector finding hundreds of cucarachas in my truck? What?! Congratulations, your little trick worked. Thanks to you they took away my food service license and not only for my truck, but for my restaurant, too! But I swear, I had nothing to do with it How could you do this to me? And only five months before Cinco de Mayo! Poor Choni. That is indeed an unfortutunate development. Rallo! Did you plant those roaches in her truck? And called the health inspector, and saved our business. I didn't want to play dirty. I had no choice! This might just be a food truck to you, but it's all I've got! You better fix this or I'm telling everyone! I am this close to calling The New York Times! Fine. But one day, I'm gonna bigger than you. Cut! Good job, you guys! Darryl, can you play that last one back for me? I'm gonna be bigger than you. That was a little too big, right? Nope. This is "dramma. " Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm in the next scene. Jit'ry jit'ry Man, I'm all jit'ry. Let me try one of those. I don't have a light. No, I got it. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Yo, driver man, you got a light for me and my buddy? We're hiding from the Mob. Oh, no! They found us! Well, well, well, Dr. Snitch. Say your prayers. Not so fast! Cleveland? Don't be crazy! There's three of them and one of you! No. There's four of us and one of you. Good-bye, Dr. Snitch. - Cleveland! - Holy! What the fazool? Shut up! All of youses! He lied to me. Made me think I was gonna die. Well, he's the one that was gonna die. Because seven days ago, he saw the ring. Get it? Prostate exam? Figures you wouldn't laugh. That's why I called you. I needed someone to seriously kill him. But you blew it! Taking that again. But you blew it. Darryl, mark the second one. Look, we don't want no trouble, man. That ain't fake. You're one tough African-Italian-American. Thank you for saying it correctly. Now get out of here before I show you the ring! Cleveland, what have you did? Don't worry, guys, Dr. Fist is fine. He and I planned this in case they found us. He told me where to shoot him in order to miss all of his vital organs. It was either two inches to the left of the heart, or two inches to the right. Couldn't remember, so I split the difference. Dr. Fist? GreenJarvus? Uh-oh. Uh, Holt, would you mind putting your fingerprints all over this gun? On it. Dummy. Thanks for coming back so we can clear up this silly misunderstanding. See, what you thought was a cockroach infestation was actually the latest cooking trend. Oh, I heard trends are all the rage. Go on. See, you've got your Peruvian Browns, nice and mellow, German Darks, a tad smoky, with a nutty finish. Look, son, I know cockroaches. I was on Fear Factor. But you've never seen someone eat a cockroach that was prepared properly. Hmm? Flash-frozen in nitrogen, and served with a basil pesto foam. It's called molecular ga Molecular gastronomy, yeah, I knew that. So you're going to eat that? Uh, no. My partner Rallo is. What? You know, to show the health inspector you love Choni's food. Uh Uh Well, I'm convinced. You're back in business. That's what I'm hablar-ing about! Ha! Spanish. Everybody bailar! We're losing him! We gotta get that bullet out. But we ain't no doctors. Wait a minute, we don't need to be. Put him on the table. Gus, I need a pair of cocktail tongs and the biggest Maraschino cherry you've got! You got it. Somebody give him a Moe haircut. I've got my body groomer. Why'd you do that? So that he looks like The Operation guy! Exactly. May Milton Bradley guide my hands. To Dr. Fist, who's as good as new. So, now that those mafiosos think you're dead, I guess you can go back to your life as a big city doctor. I can but I won't. I want to stay here in Stoolbend, where my friends are. People who care enough about me to shoot me and save my life. Hooray! He's one of, quote, "the guys"! Hear, hear! Uh, Cleveland, I wasn't completely honest with you about your test results. You do have an aggressive ingrown hair that is wrapped around and currently strangling your brain stem. Ha! Doc, you're a Boise Idaho. Read more: https://www.springfieldspringfield.co.uk/view_episode_scripts.php?tv-show=the-cleveland-show&episode=s04e17