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So tell us, what's next for William H. Macy? | I don't care what that letter said. This man raised me single-handedly. When I think of all the things he's done for me... the many times he... |
So tell us, what's next for William H. Macy? | Lifeguard, huh? |
Homie, what's wrong? Did those pork chops give you a tummy ache? | The only tummy ache is in my head. I can't stop wondering who my real father might be. |
Can I help you? | Uh yes, I'm a reporter with the local paper. I'm doing a story on people who... wear sweaters. Do you mind if I ask you some questions? |
I'd be delighted. But I must warn you, I don't wear a sweater every day. | Interesting. Interesting. |
Those are raisins. | So, you don't have any shrunken heads? |
Well, my hat size is a number six. | That is small, right? |
And this is the lady in my life. | Uh... you know it's a boat, right? |
Indeed I do. I loved a real woman a long time ago but uh... it didn't work out. | I'm sure my listeners would love to know the story behind that name. |
Listeners? I thought you worked for a newspaper. | No... I said I work for a radio station. Nine-eighty on the AM dial but number one with our viewers! |
Viewers? Wouldn't that be for a TV station? | Uh... well I... I think you're my pappy! |
Wha...? | I found this letter you wrote to my Mom, Mona Simpson. |
Dear God. I always dreamed this day would come. And now that it's here, there are so many feelings... I -- I... | Possible Daddy! |
Dear God. I always dreamed this day would come. And now that it's here, there are so many feelings... I -- I... | I'm sorry... I got a little carried away there. |
Homie, you just met this British man. It's too soon to get so emotionally invested. | Hm, honey, you've given me a lot to think about... tomorrow, when we're on Daddy's boat! |
And now that treasure is somewhere down there. | Wow, that story had everything: action, treasure, water, a guy... would you like to come to our house for dinner? |
I was busy telling young people to get a haircut. | Mason, come see my room! |
This guy. | Woo hoo! |
Today I'm filled with joy: searching for treasure with my long-lost son. My dream for each of you is that you find the happiness I feel today. | And my dream is to someday wear a real wetsuit instead of one that is just painted on. |
These waters contain some of Mother Nature's most stunning creatures. | Ha-ha! That's what you get for being luminous, jerks! |
How do I talk? Push this button here? You're all losers! | Oh, which way did Mason go? That must be him over there. |
What the... hey... | I drew this picture of you. |
It may not be much, but it's all I've got. | That is so sweet. |
I gave you everything and it still wasn't enough. | Dad... |
Well Homer, now that you're alive again, I'll leave you with your real family. | Wait. Can we have a moment in private? |
Of course. | As I lay dying on the ocean floor, I remembered everything you've done for me. To Hell with that stupid DNA test and its ninety-nine point nine, nine, nine, nine, seven per cent accuracy -- you're my dad, and I love you. |
And now there's something I've gotta tell you: I really am your father. | But how? |
My old one's fine, but ya never know. | Only a true father would lead his son to believe he belonged to someone else. |
My old one's fine, but ya never know. | Aw, Dad. |
It would be my pleasure... son. | Send up two hams! |
It would be my pleasure... son. | Hey, this one's cold! |
All right, nap time. | But I'm not tired! |
Skinner! | You made that TV show really mad. |
It's the only place cruel enough to straighten Bart out. They use a proven concept, "tough hate", to turn around foul-mouthed hooligans. Then they send them home, quietly ticking away. | Hmm, this camp's got it all -- climbing some kind of rope thing, wearing a backpack, high-fiving the black kid. It's the perfect thing to straighten you out. |
Dad, if you take me to Vegas, I'll teach you how to cheat at blackjack. | Boy, you don't need to cheat when you got a system. |
What's your system? | I don't tell your mother how much I've lost. |
It seems he was our problem before. Your son's on the no-fly list. | Why, there must be some mistake. |
Well Homer, looks like I can't go to discipline camp. Which is too bad, 'cause I think this was the thing that would finally straighten me out. | Oh yeah?! You're going to that camp, 'cause I'm gonna drive you there. |
Dad, neither of us wanna go. Why are you doing this? Where's the old carefree Homer who likes to cut loose? | You mean Fun Homer? I'm afraid Serious Homer has him locked up till you're at your snooty torture camp. |
Fight back, fun Homer! Together we can win! | It's no use. |
C'mon, Dad, we got a long way to go. You can't stay mad at me the whole time. | Boy, if you were half as smart as you think you are, you'd clean up your act. |
Well maybe pulling pranks is the only thing I'm good at. | At least you have something you're good at. I'm thirty-eight years old, drivin' a crappy car, with a son who doesn't respect me, and I'm one Snickers pie away from losing my foot to diabetes. Mmm, Snickers pie. |
Actually, Justin and I are going to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. Sir Peter Hall himself is directing. | See Bart, I told you things could be worse. |
Did you see that? They were eating melon for breakfast! | Look at me, I use a napkin. |
Well Dad, we may not always get along, but we'll never be that lame. | I bet they're from Massachusetts. You know, it's legal there for a guy to marry his son. |
Well, I guess it's tinkle time. | Don't forget to wash your hands, Shakespeare. |
So, here for a snack before they roll you back into the ocean? | Yeah, I'll have the smiley-face breakfast special. |
So, here for a snack before they roll you back into the ocean? | Uh, but could you add a bacon nose? Plus bacon hair, bacon mustache, five o'clock shadow made of bacon bits... and a bacon body. |
I'm kidding. | Fine. But the bacon man lives in a bacon house! |
What?! No one dashie-dine on Stavros! | Why you little... |
What?! No one dashie-dine on Stavros! | I'm stuck! |
What?! No one dashie-dine on Stavros! | Ow! Someone's hitting my butt with something! |
Can't talk now, Homer. I'm too satisfied in every way. | I've got you now, boy. |
Hm, if I save you, what are you gonna do to me? | Shower you with love because this experience has taught me just how precious you are. |
Hm, if I save you, what are you gonna do to me? | I'll kill you! I'll kill your whole family! |
Hm, if I save you, what are you gonna do to me? | Kidding! I'm kidding! We can do that, we have a special friendship. |
Hm, if I save you, what are you gonna do to me? | I'm gonna double kill you! And then I'm gonna bury you in a shallow grave. Then I'll dig you up and kill you again! That's the beauty of a shallow grave. |
Hm, if I save you, what are you gonna do to me? | You sweet little angel. Oh, I'm gonna rip your head off. And spit down your adorable little neck. Because I wanna smash your little stupid head. Oh, but I love you we'll go on a fishing trip. But first I'm gonna put you on a sawmill then punch your little face out. That's what I'm gonna do! |
Dad, I think you actually enjoy seeing your own son suffer. | I don't enjoy it. Being a father is just a job. Long hours, no pay, and at the end, all you get is someone yelling "you screwed me up"! |
Well, maybe if you enjoyed me more, I wouldn't be so screwed up. | Hey, I enjoy you plenty. |
Well, maybe if you enjoyed me more, I wouldn't be so screwed up. | Talking time is over. |
Don't worry, Mr. Simpson. We're gonna take his "sass" and turn it into "siss." | Thank you, Colonel. |
Don't gamble on my love, Homer! | I miss Bart! I can't leave him in that awful camp! |
Don't gamble on my love, Homer! | I'm comin', boy! |
Don't gamble on my love, Homer! | I bet this looks cool from overhead though. |
I've learned so much in my three hours here. I don't have to play pranks to feel good. I can just listen to the gentle rhythms of nature. | Stupid horse! It's a deer crossing! |
I've learned so much in my three hours here. I don't have to play pranks to feel good. I can just listen to the gentle rhythms of nature. | Wipe the blood off the windshield and get in the car, boy! |
Dad? | Son, I'm doing something I should have done a long time ago... taking you to Vegas! |
I'm gonna order a steak dinner and eat it on the toilet! | And don't you try to stop us. |
I'm gonna order a steak dinner and eat it on the toilet! | Uh, normal wear and tear. |
Actually, we were gonna call you, Mr. Simpson. Your credit card was declined. | Try this one... |
Homer, I hope you get this. I'm in jail and I need ten thousand dollars bail. Hurry! | Uh, Marge. Me and Bart got in a fight with this really un-cool pit boss, and now we're in Nevada State Prison. Also, I don't know where Bart is. If you see him, say "hey." |
Well, tell your regular bully. He won't like it one bit. | Marge, I ripped my pants! The only pants that understand my complex hiney. |
That was your last pair! How did it happen? | Ow! My ass! |
DINING ON UNTAINTED MEAT / A TOILET WHAT STILL HAS ITS SEAT / | OH, WOULDN'T IT BE ADEQUATE? |
Big blue pants. When you no longer care if you're attractive to women. | Mr. Stern, would you make those glorious blue pants again if I whipped up public interest for them? |
Of course, but how? | Through an advertising campaign so fresh and exciting, I haven't even thought of it yet. |
Well, what have I got to lose, besides the factory that's been in my family for generations? | How long is this commercial anyway? |
Homie, what's that? | Huh? |
On the back of your head. | It's called "headvertising." It creates brand awareness without relying on traditional media. |
Wow, it glows in the dark. | It's not supposed to. |
AND WHERE SHOULD IT NOT GO? | BLUE PANTS! BLUE PANTS! |
Dad, get your own song. | Fine. |
Dad, get your own song. | I'M GETTING BLUE PANTS IN THE MORNING / DING DONG THE ZIPPER'S GONNA SHINE... |
I'm so glad you washed that stupid logo off your head. | Well, it did its job. Everyone's wearing blue pants now. |
What are those doing there? | Earning us a hundred bucks a week, that's what. Except the Maine potatoes one. It's just a reminder to myself. |
"Local Anahoopi Indians believed this stalactite was the finger of Tsisnajini, their God of pointing down." | Silly Indians. Our God made their god. |
It's so impressive. | I'm just gonna get a tiny chip to put on my desk at work. |
That was two firemen, a crane and Snow White. | Why you little...! |
Well, we better start looking. | Don't leave me! I hate to be alone! Except when I'm watching TV, then leave me alone. But right now, don't leave! |
I'll stay with you, Dad. | Will you tell me a story? |
Sure. Once upon a time, in a far-off kingdom-- | No unicorns. |
One day, while I was savoring the exclusivity-- | Wait, wait, wait, wait... |
Yeah -- it's like the play within a play in "Hamlet." | Huh? |
Let's see... It's like when you watch old home movies of you watching TV. | Gotcha. |
Scavengers... scavenge! | I'm bald! |
Hey bar-boy, write a play where I meet Henry Ford and Captain Kirk. | Hey bar-boy, dance around like an idiot. Like this! |
Hey bar-boy, write a play where I meet Henry Ford and Captain Kirk. | I'm-so-stupid! I'm-so-stupid! |
I'm a little busy. Can I do it later? | Sure! You're gonna be all "I'm-so-stupid! I'm-so-stupid! I'm-so-stupid!" |
Aw geez. | Hey Moe! Thanks to you, I've been sober a week! |
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