Ah!
The ever-lilting fragrance of"Eau deBring 'Em All On."
Must be Friday, Kel, 'cause if it was Saturday,
it would be "Essence de Free Clinique."
Gee, Bud, it's date night.
Shouldn't you be upstairs practicing your French kissing
on your stuffed Ninja Turtle doll?
Saying...
"Oh, Donatello, your shell is so soft."
Aren't we testy?
Ah.
Could it be that, uh, your date isn't
the only thing that's late?
He'll be here.
I've had guys crawling on their bellies
out of flaming auto wrecks to go out with me.
Kelly...
...you might as well hear it from someone who loves you.
You're hagged out.
Finished. Over.
But keep your chins up, Kel.
Plenty of guys will still call you.
They'll just call you, "Hey, waitress."
"Hey, you with the broom."
"Hey, thief."
Oh, save it, zit-tac-toe.
Your words fall off me
like water off a duck's quack.
Now, there is nothing wrong with a guy being a little late.
Doesn't mean anything.
Kelly, you're home.
Oh, my God.
You've been stood up.
Oh.
My poor baby.
I'll tell you what.
We'll get some Ovaltine, watch the Home Shopping Network,
and I'll order you a Clapper.
Hi, Al.
Honey, Kelly's been stood up.
Must bring back memories for you, huh, Peg?
Anyway, I was driving home-- God knows why
-- and hear this old song on the radio that I used to love,
but I can't remember the name.
Now, why is it whenever a song comes on the radio,
and you're waiting to hear them name it,
it's always number six of 40 in a row?
Well, stick with it, honey.
You figured out how to flush the toilet,
you'll figure this one out.
This is a burning question of our time,
and I will not have it trivialized by a woman
who thinks the TV show Hunter is engrossing.
Anyhow, the DJ finally comes on,
and instead of telling me the name of my song...
he goes on and on about some massive pile-up on the freeway.
"Twelve dead, 12 dead."
Then he kicks off about 500 in a row
with Bobby Goldsboro's musical sphincter lock known as"Honey."
Oh, God.
This is what it's like being home on a Friday night?
Bud, Bud. Come here.
Now, listen to this very carefully
and tell me the name of the song.
* Hm-hm-him *
I don't know what it is, Dad, but if you get the name,
me and the gang would sure like to boogie to it.
Get out of my way.
Peg.
Peg, you're old. You know it.
* Hm-hm-him *
Clip your nose hairs, Al.
When you were humming,
it looked like a squid
was trying to reach out and grab the kids.
Gee, none of my, uh--
None of my family was any help to me. How unusual.
Al, must we be the spit bucket
in the early-round knockout
that is your life?
As usual, you need professional help.
So why don't you just call the oldies station, K-Fossil...
and ask the DJ?
I already called.
I got Rick Cool himself.
Gee, Rick Cool, huh?
Did Bobby 23 Skiddoo quit?
Al, the suspense is boring us.
Tell us what he said.
He said:
"The colors. The colors.
Has anybody seen my good friend John?"
And he lit up a banana. And then he hung up.
* Hm-hm-him *
Damn! Right on the tip of my tongue.
Well, then it doesn't have long to live.
I must have that song.
Maybe it's on the B-side of a record I already have.
Peg, where's my record collection
that I spent my entire youth building?
Well, they were cluttering up your closet,
so I moved them downstairs next to the furnace.
Good thinking.
Because nothing brings out the luster of original records
better than intense, searing heat.
Lousy, redheaded, life-sucking mosquito.
That's my date, tell him I am not home.
Why don't you tell him?
Good idea.
I am not home.
Oh. Then is it okay if I wait?
Mom.
If my "mixed-up at the hospital" theory is correct...
I'd say we just found Kelly's natural brother.
So just where were you
while I was wasting my life away with my family?
Well, I wanted to get you something nice.
Garfield Spoils the Picnic.
That crazy cat gets into everything,
from the potato salad to the sack races.
No boy's ever brought me literature before.
"Say it with words."
I just have to get my bag.
Oh, by the way,
this is my mom
and, uh...the troll that lives under our house.
Well, it's nice to meet you.
And, uh...
Excuse me, sir, I was just wondering...
Doesn't it get lonely under the house?
Um...
Not when you have a bell and a hat.
Hi. I'm Peggy. And I know what you're thinking.
How could a woman barely out of high school herself
possibly be the mother to a teenage daughter? Heh-heh.
Actually, I was wondering if
we had trolls under my building.
I mean, sometimes I hear noises.
My dad says it's the pipes, but now I wonder.
Look.
I am not a troll.
I'm a boy, you idiot.
Well, I-- I just "poured" through
my record collection, literally.
Uh, hi, Mr. Bundy.
Vinnie.
Vinnie Verducci, Charlie's boy.
Peg, you remember Charlie.
Charlie. You met him at our wedding.
Oh, yes. A lovely man.
When you see your father,
ask him if he's done with my mother's cigarette lighter.
You know, in defense of your father, she was bending over.
He might have thought that, you know, someone had left it
in the folds of a couch.
Bud, you oughta start hanging around with this guy.
The girls can't keep their hands off him.
What brings you here?
He's taking Kelly out.
Touch her, and I'll hang you with your own colon.
Hey, Kel, come here.
Five bucks says this guy won't even touch you.
You're on.
No guy has ever gone out with me and not touched me.
Vinnie, I'm ready.
* Hm-hm-him *
Well, honey, we're finally alone. Heh.
I know what would take your mind
off that record for a minute.
You could make love to me four times.
Peg, when I said I was after an oldie,
I meant, "but a goody."
Now, surely there must be someone around here
old enough to know that song.
Hi, Peggy. Hi.
Listen, Jefferson and I are thinking of going to the movies.
Well, I don't think we can go with you.
Well, we didn't want you to come with us.
But we need to know what's playing,
and Al stole our paper again.
How'd you know it's me?
We found one of your straws in our Sparkletts bottle.
Hey, listen, while you're here...
Let me-- Let me ask you a question. Um...
See if you can-- See if you can name this song.
* Hm-hm-him *
You know, when he hums,
the hair in his ears moves in and out
like a child's party favor.
Oh, yeah, and the-- And the nose hairs, they sort of spread
like a geisha-girl fan.
That's right. Keep dancing on the minefield.
Now, concentrate.
* Hm-hm-him *
"Itsy Bitsy Spider"? No.
"Go Tell Pharaoh." No!
Come on.
This is a song from my youth.
"Look, It's a Wheel"?
Peg, honey,
before we're all knee-deep in your blood,
um, why don't you go over by the radio
and listen to see if they play my song.
You are just determined
to win that Nobel "Putz" Prize this year, aren't you, honey?
Listen, I have the perfect plan
to figure this whole thing out.
Now, what we'll do is, we'll just sit here,
and we'll name every song that was ever made until we get it.
Now, I'll start.
"Mandy."
Uh... "Dem bones, dem bones, dem-- "
Oh, shut up.
I told you never to play with this man.
Now, give it up, Al.
I'm sure there is no such song.
It's probably a shoe hallucination.
I mean, your face is in feet all day long,
something's gotta give.
Why not something fragile, like your mind?
It is a song. Rick Cool played it.
I heard it.
And I will find it or die trying.
Peg, have they played the song yet?
Shh!
Our next call on Why Me?
comes once again from Peggy B.,
calling from the Bundy household.
You're on, Peggy. What's Al done this time?
Well, he heard a song,
and he can't remember the name of it,
so he's holding me and the neighbors hostage.
Help us!
Help us! He's mad, I tell you! Mad--
Mad, am I?
I'm not doing anything any rational man wouldn't do.
Now, you get that oldies station back on,
or the walls will be your tombs.
All of you!
Oh, come on, Al.
The chances of them playing that song are a million-to-one--
* Go with him *
"Go With Him!"
"Go With Him." "Go With Him."
That must be the name of my song.
Groovy song, wasn't it?
You know, a lot of people think the name of that song
is "Go With Him,"
but it's not!
What is it? What is it?
Well, here's our third song of 5000 in a row.
We're going for the world's record:
two full years of uninterrupted music.
This is Rick Cool, the fifth Monkee,
heading home to his depressing studio apartment
on the po' side of town.
* He's Rick Cool *
* For the middle-aged *
Hey, look, Garfield got his whiskers full of mayonnaise.
Uh-oh. Here come the ants.
Oh, enough.
I want to talk to you.
Oh, look.
The ants are carrying off the "la-sag-nee."
Oh, grab her.
You've got worse beatings for less.
What are you looking at me for?
If I wasn't so tiny,
I'd be wild-thinging her myself.
You really think so?
Go. Go. Go. Go.
Go. Go. Go.
Oh, I hate my life.
Can't eat, can't sleep,
can't bury the wife in the back yard.
I'm beside myself with depression.
Did you ever have anything
you were so close to,
it was literally on the tip of your tongue,
but you just couldn't quite get it?
Yes. Yes.
Al. Honey.
If you're gonna bring Preparation H to bed,
could you at least remember to put the top back on.
I mean, God, it just takes me forever
to scrub it out of the sheets with your toothbrush.
I got bigger things on my mind now, Peg.
That song is haunting me.
You know, Mr. Bundy,
if you're really looking for a record,
my father knows every oldie ever made.
Oh. No, Al. Please.
If my feelings mean anything to you,
you will not invite that man to my home.
* Go with him *
Mighty familiar, Al.
You came to the right guy.
Do you know the song?
No.
But I do know the complete theme
to The Patty Duke Show.
* Well, they're cousins *
* Identical cousins All their lives *
* They walk alike They talk alike-- *
And why not? They're both Patty Duke.
Gee, Charlie.
You're still the same clown prince of unemployment
you were when those shoes and shirt were in style.
It's that cigarette lighter
that I found in a couch at your wedding, right?
Let-- Let me explain about that.
Ya see, to you, that lighter was just a sterling silver,
antique cigarette lighter
with your mother's initials on it,
in pure gold with one diamond.
But to me, it was a keepsake of the memory
of the most beautiful bride I'd ever seen.
A memory that remained with me
long after I hocked the lighter.
And if I may say so, Peggy...
that beauty has not faded one bit.
Really, Charlie?
That's so sweet.
Hey.
It's right from the heart.
I mean, when I look in your face,
the only words that come to my mind are:
Final Vinyl.
That's the store you have to go to get that record, Al.
Final Vinyl.
Peg, didn't I tell you that this man was great?
Oh, uh, by the way, Charlie, uh...
how about that 20 bucks you owe me?
You know, it's only been 10 years.
I must take my leave now.
Come, Vincent.
Goodbye to you, Al...
and to your two lovely daughters.
Charlie.
Yes, enchantress?
My watch.
I was gonna get it engraved for you.
Till we meet again.
Did you get anything? No.
Too bad. They got some nice stuff.
"Green Door" by Jim Lowe.
* Mm-hm-mm With the hm and a knife *
"Wolverton Mountain," Claude King. Aisle three.
* Mmm-mm-mm flown Yeah *
"Any Day Now," Chuck Jackson. Aisle four.
Peg, this guy's a genius.
We're home.
* Go with him *
Never heard of it.
Next.
What a surprise.
Thank you.
Not even this, huh?
What is it?
Is Oprah right?
Are you a big, fat woman?
All I wanted was a 45-- a stinking 45
-- the record or the gun.
I'll even settle for the damn malt liquor.
Just this once can you show that you can love even Al Bundy?
* Go with him *
* Ah-ahh *
* But Anna *
That's it! That's my song!
Thank you, thank you.
Uh-- I'll be back for only one more request.
It involves a thunderbolt and, uh--
That's my song! That's my song.
That's "Anna." "Anna" on the jukebox.
I want it. How much is it?
Well, since you're a good customer,
and obviously a ranting, raving loon,
you can have it for $60.
Sixty dollars?
For a record?
Hey, look, you must look at my husband and mistake crazy
for stupid.
He is not paying you $60 for a record.
And if he does, I will kiss your--
Peg, this is the best $60 I ever spent.
Except for the day before the day I met you,
this is the happiest day of my life.
Peg, I'm going to play this record over and over again
until my ears bleed.
Honey, where's my record player?
With all your stuff.
In a box in the corner of the basement.
Uh, honey. Come with me while I get it.
I want to share my joy.
After you, my love.
Well, at least you're acting like a gentleman.
Just not sure why.
Thank you, honey.
Uh, I-I couldn't remember which step was loose.
Well, another great night.
Look. You have to tell me right now.
Why do you keep asking your shoulders
if you should go for it?
I mean, are they magic shoulders?
If shoulders are talking about me,
I have a right to know.
No. There's nothing on my shoulder.
Some say not even my head.
But I digest.
Nothing.
'Tis just as the poet said:
'Twas the wind.
No.
'Twas the raven.
No.
Actually, 'Twas a quoth.
Oh, enough.
If I wanted intelligent conversation,
I'd still be dating my teachers.
Now, kiss me, or I will kill you.
Now, that didn't hurt, did it?
No.
Actually, it ranks right up there
with finding money in the street.
Well, then, what took you so long?
Well...
actually, I was afraid of your father.
But as we all learned
from that moving Jimmy Piersall story,
you've nothing to fear, but fear strikes out.
Churchill, I believe. Mm.
And besides, your father likes me.
I think we're gonna be great friends.