Fore, Father

We now return to "Little House on the Prairie".

Mary, you're doing great with your Braille.

I couldn't have done it without you, Pa.

Why don't you go up to bed and get some sleep, honey?

Sh.

Honey! Honey, you remember where the stool was.

Oh, Mary, Mary. You're in the kitchen. You're all disoriented. Let me help you.

The ladder's right here.

Thanks, Pa.

Jeez, life was a lot tougher back then.

♪ It seems today that all you see ♪ ♪ is violence in movies and s*x 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... Fam... ily... Guy! ♪

Listen up. It's time for spring-cleaning.

Spring-cleaning? Oh, not again!

That was weird. That was weird, too.

If we all pitch in, we'll be done in no time.

You know I swore I'd never clean again. Not after Bounty dropped me as their spokesman.

Wait a second. Rosie, I've just poured this glass of warm yellow liquid on the counter, and you say that Bounty can pick it up in five seconds?

What is this? Is that...?

Four seconds.

It smells like...

Clean my pee!

Mom, I can't clean. I got stuff to do.

Sweetheart, we all know you don't have any stuff to do.

I don't wanna hear any more excuses from anyone.

Ah, crap!

We did it again.

Ruth Bader Ginsberg.

Ooh!

Oh, look, Meg. It's your little baby booties.

Oh, and your little bronzed hat. And your tail.

My what?!

Nothing.

OK. Lois's list says clean the windows, clear the gutters and wash the siding.

To most folks, that's three chores.

To Peter Griffin and his big hose, it's one.

You're not workin' hard, Peter. You're workin' smart.

Hey, Chris, gimme the juice.

Peter, there's water and glass and... It's a disaster in here!

Well, Lois, why don't you put down your ginger ale and Redbook and get to work?

Lazy.

You're not helping. Look, don't come near the house. Go do somethin' else.

Son, this duffel bag is only half zipped.

Where you goin'?

I'm goin' campin' for the weekend with Johnny Cut-Corners. Want to come along?

Hm. It would be nice to get out of the house.

This is the time of the month when Loretta's visited by her Aunt Flo.

Loretta likes to personify her menses in humorous ways.

Hey, Quagmire, you up for some campin'?

Sorry, bud. The only tent I'm pitchin' this weekend is...

Well, you see where I'm goin' with this. Oh!

I wanna go. It'll get me away from the evil monkey that lives in my closet.

Monkey in the closet!

This is gonna be great.

My last male bonding was when me and Cleveland went to Chinatown.

Look, forget how it happened. Can you just get us outta this?

I say, Rupert, this paste is quite delicious.

It's almost worth the bowel obstruction.

Are those my books? What the hell are you doing?

Papier-mâché. I used them to make the houseboat from Surfside Six. You remember.

Surfside Six Who lives there?

Surfside Six Young bachelors.

In Miami Beach Those are my first editions. You little punk!

Momma, doggy's scary.

Brian, have you lost your mind? He's just a baby. He doesn't know what he's doing.

This isn't over.

If you're looking for your Dostoevsky, I used it to make the fort from F Troop.

Look what I found, Stewie. An appointment card. You've got a checkup.

Marvellous. A quick weigh-in, stick out your tongue, and a nice lollipop to cap it all off.

Remind me to ask the doctor when my other testicle will descend.

Bang! I'm Daniel Boone. I'm a man. I'm a big man.

Bang! Bang!

Now I'm Pat Boone. Gonna have a Christmas special with Andy Williams.

Ah, so beautiful.

It's almost as if this world was created especially for me.

You think he's onto us, Christof?

No. He's an idiot.

I dug the latrine 50 feet out.

Great. You want a cookie whenever you do somethin' right? Get some firewood.

Yes, sir!

He's gonna grow up to be quite a man.

Hmm. That was incredible, Kevin.

I'm not here to impress you. Am I, Dad?

Did I say you could rest yet?

I'm Abe Lincoln. I just chopped some wood.

Good for you, son. Hey, where's Chris? I asked him to fill the canteens an hour ago.

Hey, Dad, look!

I covered my back with honey, and now the ants are takin' me home.

He does that at home with Velveeta and cockroaches.

If you turn the light on, they slam him into the fridge.

Oh, great! Mirabella.

December's Mirabella!

What's your story? Get lost on the way to the morgue?

Seriously, is that yours? Because if it is, bravo!

You remember that short-lived sitcom Fish?

They should have put that on before CHiPs. The marketing practically writes itself.

Let's go, Chris. Your dinner won't catch itself.

I don't wanna go. I had a bad experience with a fish once.

Oh, my God! My fish is gone!

And he robbed me!

OK. See you, Chris.

This is none of my business, but you're turning your boy into a slacker.

How dare you call my parenting into question?!

If you were a woman, I'd slug you.

You should teach him some responsibility.

I'll show you responsibility.

Chris, you are responsible for guarding the camp while we fish.

You got it, Dad. You can count on me to...

Chris, pay attention. I want you to...

All right, take a deep breath.

It's cold. Cold!

OK. I'm fine. I'm fine.

Tell me, Dr Hartman, do all the children fall in love with you?

It's cold! It's cold.

Hm. 29Ib. That's big for your age.

Forgive me for not being one of those anorexic babies from the diaper commercials.

Time for your immunisations.

You might wanna hold him.

Hold me for what?

What the deuce?

Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie.

Back off! Don't come any closer or I'll cut her.

I... I'll give her...

I'll give her a series of splinters that could, um... you know, become infected.

Look, Stewie. Look at the dancin' kitty.

Oh, no! I'll not be taken in by one of your...

Oh, my! That's delightful, isn't it? What's your name?

Argh! Oh, God!

They call this the "magic hour": the day's not quite gone, but the night's not quite here, and somewhere, Scott Baio is ploughin' a woman he doesn't love.

I got one, Dad!

Looks like that's the one that got away.

The hell it is! You get in there and you kick that fish's ass!

God, I love him.

I can't believe how terrible the fishin' was.

Yeah. All we caught was a tyre, a boot, a tin can and this book of clichés.

Well, thank God we came prepared. We brought enough food to last us...

Holy crap, Chris. What the hell? I put you in charge of the food.

The raccoons were here. See?

"We're a bunch of sneaky animals."

"We're gonna wreck this food and eat it, cos we're naughty!"

"And then there's a guy. Let's get him in trouble with his dad! Ha ha ha!"

Somehow, I'm less than surprised.

I'm sorry, Dad. I messed up the entire trip.

It's not your fault, Chris. I failed you as a father.

From now on, Joe will be your father.

Cleveland?

I'll teach the boy. Come, my son. I'll show you the ways of the herd...

Oh, crap.

Why are you sittin' with the sheets over your head?

Peter, what's wrong?

Huh. That obvious?

Well, you always do the skull gag when you're depressed. Talk to me.

Well, it's just... I've been tryin' to teach Chris how to be a man, you know?

First I tried teachin' him how to eat an Oreo.

Chris, the way to eat an Oreo is to twist it, pull it apart and lick it.

Now you.

Then I tried teachin' him how to get out of payin' a check.

Uh, waiter? There's a dead guy in my soup.

Oh, terribly sorry, sir. Your soup is gratis.

Thank you.

Now your turn.

Waiter, there's a dead guy in my...

Peter, you can't force-feed maturity. He needs to learn it on his own.

Why don't you get him a job or somethin'?

Whoa. Freeze-fame.

That's it! I can teach Chris responsibility by gettin' him a job.

Isn't she great? Now you see why I married her.

Go away now. I'm gonna do stuff to her.

I'm sorry Stewie ruined your books. Here, I brought you some of Peter's.

Mr T by Mr T.

Tand Me by George Peppard.

For the Last Time, I'm not Mr T by Ving Rhames.

Eurgh!

Oh, Stewie, are you OK?

Must we make small talk every time we pass?

Oh, you're burnin' up. Must be a reaction to the shots. I'll go get you some baby aspirin.

What are you talking about? You said the shots were supposed to make me healthy.

You actually believe Lois had them inject you to make you healthy?

I mean, you were already healthy.

Oh, God! You're right.

I was pink as a pistol.

Pink as a pistol?! Good Lord! I can't even form a cogent simile any more.

What was in those needles?

I've already said too much.

I should have known. Her treachery knows no limits. I...

Oh, my. Getting dizzy.

Oh, fight it, Stewie! "Do not go gentle into that good night."

To quote Bob Dylan.

No, no. Dylan Thomas.

Boys, I'm a miracle worker. I have used all my parenting skills to change my son from a lazy slacker into a workin' man.

Nice goin', Peter.

Yeah. Up yours.

What?

Thanks. Hey, Chris.

Hey, Dad. I'm workin'. I'm wor...

Oh!

Careful. You don't get dental for 60 days.

Hey, you that Griffin boy's father? Paddy Tanninger, the caddy manager.

Yeah, it rhymes. Big whoop. Wanna fight about it?

Listen, your son is the best ball-shagger we ever had.

I sold twice as many buckets today cos everybody wants to hit the fat kid.

Lynne, cancel my meetings. I gotta hit more balls at this fat kid.

Peter, do you mind if Kevin and I...?

Nail Chris? He'd be thrilled.

Hey, this kid here just knocked the ball 300 yards.

I'm Tiger Woods. I'm Tiger Woods. Weeee!

Cleveland, your kid's a natural. With help, he could be a pro.

Oh, Peter, I can't make Cleveland Junior sit still for anything.

Sometimes I wonder if he's got the epilepsy.

But then I just go see what's on the TV.

Well, maybe you're not as good a father as me, huh?

Look what I did with Chris. I'm better than that dad on Lost in Space.

We need more information about this new planet.

Don, you take my 16- year-old blonde daughter out in the chariot for the day.

Penny, you stay here with me. And Will?

You and the robot go out into the wilderness and take this mincing paedophile with you.

Cleveland Junior's beyond your skills. He won't respond to you.

Oh, yeah? Hey. Hey, come here, Cleveland Junior. Come to Peter.

Over here, Junior.

Come on.

Come on, Cleveland Junior.

Come to Peter.

Huh? You'll see. I'm gonna turn this kid into the greatest golfer ever.

Fine.

How'd you get him to come?

With this.

Oh.

Love.

Jealousy.

Touch.

Forever.

Intense.

Passion.

Obsession. Calvin Klein.

Drink this, honey. It'll bring your fever down. I'm gonna go run you a cool bath.

She's one of them. I'm sure of it. Tell me what they injected me with!

Huh! You know Mr T always wanted to be a Broadway dancer?

Answer me! What have they done to me?

It could be any number of things. Gene manipulation, sterilisation...

Not my seed!

But from the look of your pupils, I'd say it's some kind of mind-control serum.

Or not.

Mind control? But I feel so lucid.

You look spot-on to me. Thank you. I try to work out.

But who has the time? Besides trophy wives.

Yes. That's rich.

Agh!

Didn't wanna be a mean guy. Wanna be a dancer.

Go away! Agh!

You!

I am taking your brain.

You are now my slave.

No!

Agh!

Why is he freaking out like that?

He's having an hallucination from the fever.

Like when you were three, and you ate those adult brownies I was saving for the Doobie Brothers concert.

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! Ee! Ah-oh!

I'm gonna be on a cereal box.

Honeycomb big, yeah yeah yeah It's not small, no no no Pay attention, Junior. You wanna keep your shoulders straight and your knees bent.

And, uh... just once, for me, would you call me Mr Drummond?

Hey, Griffin. Down here.

Yeah, a secret tunnel, like Hogan's Heroes. Big whoop. Wanna fight about it?

Look, here's your first week's pay.

All right, Chris!

Dad! Dad, look!

That's great, Chris.

But I'm tryin' to be a good father here. I'm real proud of you, champ.

Let's go get a milkshake.

You got it, Mr Drummond.

Package for Glen Quagmire.

Oh, excuse me.

I got a package for you, too. All right.

Nice try, but I built up an immunity.

Hey, what's wrong, kid?

My dad doesn't care about me any more.

Oh. Well, at least you have a dad. When I was growin' up, it was just me and my mom.

Wah! Wah! Wah!

Oh, looks like somebody's hungry.

Wah! Wah!

All right!

I just wanted him to be proud of me. I even got a job.

Well, there's your problem. Jobs are for suckers.

You need to learn how to have a good time. Come on.

Go ahead, kid. Try it out.

Um, excuse me.

You dropped something.

My jaw. Ha ha ha ha.

All right.

Nice goin'.

All right.

Oh!

Ohhh!

Ew!

I don't think I like feet as much as you do.

Hey, everybody likes feet. C'mon, the party's just startin'.

I'm gonna grab my girl and head to the beach Hic-a-doo-La!

We're gonna all hang ten and maybe then Hic-a-doo-La!

Cos I'm a hic-a-doo-La boy And I'm a hic-a-doo-La girl And together it is a hic-a-doo-La world Hic-a-doo-La!

Mr Quagmire, what does "hic-a-doo-La" mean?

What does "hic-a-doo-La" mean?

Hic-a-doo-La's that feeling when you hold hands with your best gal.

It's cheerin' for the home team.

It's catchin' the perfect wave.

It's obeying all the rules.

No way!

Hey, are we in Tiananmen? Because I see a square.

Hic-a-doo-La!

Hey, great shot, Cleveland Junior.

Thanks, Mr Drummond.

Listen, for today, can you switch and call me Mr Papadapolis?

You got it.

Would you hate me if I called you Webster?

That's a lie.

OK. Sorry.

Hi. Tom Tucker, local news anchor. And on my days off, a golf enthusiast.

The club's having a man-boy tournament. You should enter.

A tournament, eh?

That gives me an idea. Come on. I'll explain in the car.

This is the perfect way to show what a great father figure I've been to Cleveland Junior.

I'll do it!

Where shall we sit?

That's not up to me, kid.

I follow the old divining rod. Whoa!

Whoa-ho!

How old are you?

Old enough to know you're a whore.

Whoa!

Whoa ho-ho!

Whoa ho-ho-ho ho-ho!

Come on, talk to me, sweetie. You look a little down.

I always thought I'd go to my first nudie bar with my dad. He doesn't have time for me.

Well, sweetie, part of growing up is learning that adults aren't perfect.

Your dad deserves another chance.

Wow! You are smart.

All right.

Oh, no. No, it's not all right. I'm outta cash. You take bank cards?

Sure.

Can I get stamps, too?

We are at the 17th hole, where Peter Griffin and Cleveland Junior are five strokes ahead, making victory all but a certainty.

I said I could mould your son into a champion.

This is gonna be my greatest victory ever. Except for the time I defeated my evil twin.

Not me, Lois. Shoot him. I'm the real Peter.

I don't know.

Lois, look at me.

You know your own husband, don't you?

Thank God! You made the right choice, honey.

What was that?

Nothing.

One more hole, and that man-boy trophy is ours. Here you go, little buddy.

Hey, look at me. I'm Pelé. I'm Pelé.

Goal!

Where the hell's he goin'?

He's gone. Maybe you better stick to lookin' after your own son.

Oh, my God!

Is she dead?

She's still alive...

No, that did it.