What's wrong with Daddy?
Ah, he's just payin' bills.
Nothin' to concern us.
Just be happy he's not banging his head
against the table.
Well, I'm signing now, Lord.
Please just smite me before I get to the Y in Bundy.
Oh, give me that pen.
"Bundy."
Heh. Yet another thing you start that I finish.
Well, now that that's done,
how 'bout taking us to the movies?
Well, perhaps you were fooled
by the opulent luxury of our home.
You see, believe it or not, we're broke.
Now, I know I've said we're broke before,
and you've all been very brave and spent anyway,
but it's really time to tighten our belts.
Now, Peg, what can you do without?
Apparently an orgasm.
Heh.
Way to get one.
Kelly, and you?
Well, I think that we all could do without war, Daddy.
Now do you think you should have gained more than five pounds
when you were pregnant with her?
Now, there must be somebody around here
that can think of some way to save money.
Hey, Dad, I got my license.
Can I have a new car?
Daddy's broke.
You're gonna have to ask Mommy
to get one for you.
Mommy, can I have a new car?
Sure you can.
Oh, what the hell, new cars for everyone.
That's wonderful!
Quiet, you morons!
There's gonna be no new cars and no new drivers.
I already can't afford insurance,
what with Kelly here and the U-turn queen.
You know, it's not my fault that they always put the sales
on the other side of the street.
Dad, all my friends are driving.
Well, if all your friends were getting married,
would you do that too?
Look, forget a car.
There's no reason to take one
when you can take a perfectly good bus.
Oh, yeah. I'd look real cool picking up
that special date in the old bus.
Hey, you know what all the guys say:
"For a handful of girl, give the bus a whirl."
Oh, come on, Al.
You were worried about Kelly driving,
and in the past year,
she's only gotten two or three tickets.
And it would have been four
if I hadn't outran those last cops.
Yep, they were fast enough to keep up with me
goin' the wrong way on the expressway,
but when it came time to jump that drawbridge,
they just didn't have the guts.
Well, I guess that solves the mystery
of the bullet hole in my gas tank.
Look, Bud, how 'bout this?
Whenever you want to go someplace, I'll take you.
Huh? It'll be fun.
And that way the skirts will think
I'm just one of your cool friends.
Oh, yeah.
Then you could even have a cool nickname,
like Jowl Boy.
Son, let this be a lesson to you.
Never do tequila shooters
within a country mile of a marriage chapel.
Fly.
Tapeworm.
What's that?
Oh, that's Dad's car stereo.
Since we've been cruisin' together,
he let me fix it up a little.
Fifteen-hundred watts and no volume control.
With the right song,
you can drop a bird at a hundred yards.
Cool.
Hey, Daddy, can I use the car tonight?
What?
Mom, Daddy's deaf again!
Oh, I'll fix it.
Is that your way of telling me, uh,
we're out of Q-tips?
Oh, honey, if it's good enough for the toilet,
they're good enough for you.
So how was your day, sweetie?
Oh, fine.
Just me cruising around, listening to the oldies channel
at 1500 watts.
Made a lot of new friends.
Take, uh, Officer Lewis, for example.
Unfortunately, I couldn't hear his siren at first, but luckily,
police cars are now equipped with rammers
that gently ease me into the rail.
Luckily, the cop liked oldies,
so he beat me with his nightstick
to the tune of "Hey Jude."
Then he wrote me up 18 tickets.
Including the one for bleeding on his pad.
How was your day?
Quit whining, Dad.
Put on the Bon Jovi hair, and let's roll.
Gee, honey,
you look like Tarzan.
If he was old and gay.
Well, Peg, if you were Jane,
believe me, he would be.
Come on, son. Let's roll.
No way.
The car's mine tonight.
Come on, Daddy.
If not, I have to stand on a street corner
and listen to guys yell insulting and degrading remarks
and make kissing sounds.
I'm sorry, honey. We didn't know that was you.
No, forget it, Kel.
That car is mine tonight.
Mine. Mine!
Now, that's enough, devil dogs.
Now, I can't take any more of this.
I'm gonna get car insurance for him,
and you two can fight over the car to the death.
Hello. Jim's Fish, Chips and Insurance?
Al Bundy here. Hi, Jim.
Uh, listen, how much to put my son on my insurance?
How old? Um...
Sixteen.
Uh, he's 16.
Whoa!
If you think I'm gonna pay that much,
you're as stupid as those cats you trap and call "tuna."
You know, when you insult my wife, Jim,
you don't hurt me, pal.
Well, what'd he say, Al?
Nothing I haven't said myself.
Now, look, Jim,
if that's the best you can do for a lifetime friend
and someone who never told the police
what your "catch of the day" really is,
then you can just take my insurance and stuff it.
That's right, all of it!
There, family.
Al Bundy takes guff from no one.
Cheap, cheap, cheap, cheap, cheap, cheap...
All right, I'm going to give you the keys.
It's mine. Look out.
Out of the way. Give it to me.
Me! Me! Me! Look out. Me!
Look out. Now, hold it!
Just remember:
the one who drives, be very careful,
because as you know, we don't have any car--
Give me those! Look out.
Now, hold it!
Be very careful because we don't have any--
Ah, the hell...
Well, at least my pain is gone.
Al? Oops.
Honey, you know, I may just be the wife of a moron,
but isn't canceling our insurance
and giving the car keys to two teenagers
the work of, well,
the Dalai Lama of morons?
Peg, we don't need insurance.
Insurance is like marriage:
You pay, pay, you never get anything back.
Besides-- Besides, the car isn't worth more
than 100 bucks with both kids in it.
Peg, I'm a real hero.
For once, there's one man brave enough
to stand up and say he doesn't need any stinking car--
Oh!
Is that my car?
Yeah.
Are the kids hurt?
No. Whew.
Then I have to do it myself.
Gee, what a wreck.
A 500SL Mercedes.
You had to hit a $100,000 Mercedes?
You know, it's amazing.
Your Dodge, with the high Blue Book value of $70,
sliced right through that Kraut car like toast.
I'm tellin' you, it is times like these
that I am proud to be an American.
Oh. That's good, Peg.
Then it'll be your job to make sure
Old Glory is flying high above our heads
as we wait in line for free cheese.
Oh, how much could it cost to fix it, huh?
A half a mil?
And you know he's gonna sue.
That's the problem with America today.
There's jerks out there everywhere, suing for nothin'.
He hit me, Dad.
We're suing.
Peg, get the kids some neck braces.
But, Daddy, we weren't hurt.
Why can't you be more like your brother? Huh?
You don't hear him whining he's not hurt.
Al. Honey, you know we can't win a lawsuit.
Why, ever since
Bundy v. the Girl Scouts of America,
when you claimed to have choked on a bone in a butter cookie,
no judge has ever believed a Bundy.
Like I ever had a chance.
Peg, as God as my witness, that judge's breath smelled
of free chocolate mints.
Let's face it, Al.
Our only chance is if we had a reliable witness.
Oh, God.
You wanna hear something funny?
This car phone was lying by my house,
and a policeman came over and asked me
which car I thought it came from:
the Mercedes or the Dodge.
He thought it could be yours.
Oh, a shoe salesman with a car phone.
What's that?
A woman across town needs a 7 triple E?
I'm on my way.
Oh.
Who would have thought seeing an accident like that
would be so much fun?
You saw it?
Yeah. I saw the whole thing from the car
while I was saying good night to my date.
Oh, Al, a non-Bundy as a witness.
They'll believe her.
But, Peg, do you think a judge
will believe that she had a date?
Honey, we could actually be rich.
All those years of pain and suffering and--
And the humiliation of having people call me
"Mrs. Bundy" to my face
are finally through.
Oh, kids, go to your sickbeds,
for tomorrow, we sue.
Whoa, Bundy!
Good night. We're gonna be rich.
Another accident case?
Great.
I just hope it's not one of those frivolous lawsuits.
Make way. Make way.
A crippled family coming through.
Rum.
The case of Bundy v. Fitzwilley.
And Dr. Fitzwilley is suing the Bundys
for a million dollars.
The Bundys are countersuing for...
a jillion dollars.
In cash, Your Honor.
Mr. Bundy, before we begin,
could you tell me why your wife is wearing a neck brace
when she wasn't involved in the accident?
Uh, let me answer that, Your Honor.
You see, it's sex whiplash.
But it is accident-related.
You see, my husband got so excited
over this jillion dollars
that he, uh, just lost control of himself
last night in bed.
Ah.
He kind of caught me off guard. Heh-heh.
He moved. Heh.
Mr. Bundy, opening statement?
Thank you, Your Honor.
And may I add that it's nice to see a woman in a robe
who's not wearing fuzzy slippers and a bag of Doritos in her lap.
And now--
-- on to the lawsuit.
While carrying canned goods to their local church group,
my beloved children,
Bud and, uh... the girl,
had their futures maliciously torn asunder
by the merciless destruction of an Aryan super-car.
This, Your Honor,
is the nightmare of your unified Germany.
Thanks to my witness,
a professional banker and brother woman,
we plan to prove
that we deserve a jillion dollars
in cash,
and we humbly await your decision.
So, Mrs. Rhoades,
you say you witnessed the accident.
Yes, I did. Mm-hm.
And where were you?
In my driveway.
I was saying good night to my date in his car.
Mm-hm. And could you describe
how you saw the accident?
Well, we picked our heads up, and we--
Picked your heads up.
Where were your heads that you picked them up?
Well...
Down.
Hey, I know what you're thinking.
But let me set you straight. It was not our first date.
And I would like the record to show
that he bought me dinner first,
and he called me the next day.
And who are you to judge me?
You know what it's like out there in the dating world,
being smarter than the man but being unable to show it?
Where is the harm? Where is the harm?
So, Mrs. Rhoades,
you didn't really see who was at fault, did you?
No.
But the Mercedes had to be.
My ex-husband drove a Mercedes.
You may step down, Mrs. Rhoades.
He left me like the parsley on a plate
at a truck-stop diner.
He loved that damn car more than he loved me.
Bailiff.
They have to stop making those cars,
don't you see?
They're evil. They tell the man:
"You don't need a wife.
"You're a cool guy.
Look at that teenager over there."
It's not the men. It's the cars.
I'm warning you, America,
keep your husbands out of German cars!
Ask me what fahrvergnügen means!
I'll tell you! I--
So, Miss Bundy,
the accident cost you your sight?
Yes. I am blind like the mighty oak.
Miss Bundy,
how many fingers am I holding up?
Oh, you're not gonna catch me with that one.
I'm blind.
All right.
Would you please point out the man
who hit your car and blinded you?
Sure. It is that guy right there with the gray suit
and the little Band-Aid on his head.
You may step down.
Mr. Bundy--
Uh, please, uh, just call me Big B.
No.
Mr. Bundy, I bet you're a good driver.
Ninety-eight on the written test, babe.
My boy's a winner, Peg.
Not like your girl.
Brush your teeth, honey.
Now, you're a fine young man. Hm.
Do you know what they do
to fine young men in the big house?
That's right, Big B.
And that's where you're headed if you perjure yourself.
So I ask you one time and one time only:
how did this accident occur?
We were playing Eyesies-Closies,
and my sister put her hands over my eyes and I couldn't see,
and I hit the gas, and I heard a terrible crash.
But the part about us being hurt was the idea of that man.
Come on, Al.
Ya only owe $50,000.
And you have a whole month to pay it off.
Now, show some gumption.
You know what we say back home in Wanker County?
"Nothin' spells lovin' like marryin' your cousin"?
No.
When times are tough, we pull together.
So I'll tell you what,
Bud and Kelly and I are gonna go to the movies
and leave you alone to think in peace.
Come on, kids.
Dad,
I can't help but feel somehow responsible for this.
Aw, son, come here
and let me choke you till you feel better.
Well, you're not mad at me, are you, Daddy?
No, pumpkin.
How many fists am I holdin' up?
Oh, don't worry, Al.
We'll all pitch in and help.
Why, Bud can sell newspapers,
and Kelly can, uh,
twirl around till she gets dizzy.
And I can play my accordion at parties.
And then all you have to do
is come up with the rest of the 50,000.
You know, I really think this is gonna bring
our family much closer together.
Mm-hm. Come on.
Mom, do I really have to sell newspapers?
No. I was just sayin' that.
Fifty-thousand dollars.
Thirty days.
Well, you know what they say.
When the going gets tough,
the tough runs like a thief in the night.
Goodbye, Al Bundy.
Hello to the mysterious stranger in a logging camp.
See you on the other side, boy.
Well, a loggin' man needs a loggin' dog.
Come on, boy!
* North to Alaska *
* Where north The rush is on *
* Go north to Alaska *
* Way north to-- *
Unh!