We won! We won! We won!
Oh, Al, listen to my heartbeat. Oh.
It's incredible, Peg.
I can hear it from here.
Sir, your ear hair is sticking me.
Get over here and celebrate with your family.
That man cut in front of me.
I should have been the millionth customer.
Bundy. Cut in front of this woman?
What woman?
Oh, you know it was me, you gaggle of pirates.
Now, I have stood mutely by for five years
and watched you steal my paper,
siphon my gas,
loiter in my bushes doing God knows what.
But I will not permit this.
This is my $1000 shopping spree
and I will have my shopping spree,
if I have to carry my groceries home in your skulls.
You want me to clock her one, Daddy?
Let me handle this.
You know what you need to take your mind off this, babe?
A nice, cool Bud.
And, uh, keep the biting to a minimum.
It's a school night.
Excuse me. Coming through, coming through.
Hi, there. I'm Mr. Foodie.
I'm here to congratulate the lucky winner.
By the way, who is it?
Me! Me!
What a lovely couple.
Uh, I'm not married to thisthing,
I'm married to that thing.
Wait a second. Aren't you Al Bundy?
Did you let this man pay with a check?
Hey.
The only thing wrong with my checks
is they're postdated, like your milk.
This man cut in front of me and bought gum.
Now, I have been a faithful customer of this store
for many years.
My checks are always good.
I have a preferred customer card.
And I know the Foodies jingle by heart:
* Foodies *
* We're a store with food *
* And heart *
Well, you know, that only proves
that you two have little rhythm and no lives.
We, on the other hand, have a receipt...
and no lives.
And besides, we live here.
Hush, pumpkin.
Now, now, go wheel your brother to the car.
All right, Foodie, now, what are you gonna do here?
Well, there's only one fair way.
Give us both prizes?
No, I meant fair for Foodies.
No, we'll let you compete for the millionth-customer prize.
Yes, you'll both be in the shopping spree,
And whoever comes up
with $1000 worth of groceries first
gets to keep 'em.
Well, what does the loser get?
Gets to congratulate the winner.
You know, Al, I've been thinking.
What if we really do win that $1000 worth of groceries?
Then what do we do?
Well, Peg, I saw on 60 Minutes last week,
where some people found with food
actually cook it up and eat it.
I've never seen Morley so shaken.
So I was right.
I'm not the winner in this at all.
You get all the food and the glory,
and I just get endless hours
standing in front of the big hot thing.
No, Peg, that's the stove.
You're the big hot thing.
Peg, Peg, I'll tell you what.
If we win this contest... I get six hot meals.
Then we sell the rest of the food,
we get an air conditioner.
Really, Al? You mean it?
We get an air conditioner?
Six meals, Peg.
One. Four.
One. Three.
One. Two.
One. Done!
Mom, Dad, I think we're in for some trouble.
Mr. and Mrs. D'Arcy are out there doing wind sprints
around the neighborhood.
Then they come to stop signs and drop for pushups.
Yeah, Jefferson does 25 with Marcie on his back,
and then Marcie does 50 with Jefferson on her back.
I'm not worried. I'm a finely honed athlete.
And as for your mother,
Peg, show them what a real pushup looks like.
All right, kids, I admit it. I did not marry well.
But...if you haven't ever believed
anything I've ever told you...
And we haven't.
...believe this:
We will win this contest.
We will win. We will win big.
We will win in the Bundy tradition:
We will cheat our heinies off.
Now, can I get a "whoa, Bundy"?
Whoaaaa, Bundy!
Look, Marcie. Best cart in the lot.
The Foodies cart stunk,
but I got this baby from a bag lady across the street.
They always have the best stuff.
You excite me like no man I've ever met.
No mercy to the Bundys.
No mercy.
Let's see 'em top this, baby.
Excuse me.
What is this contraption?
That's Peg. You know her.
Not that, Pillsbury Shoeboy.
This thing you're pushing, this is not a regulation cart.
Au contraire, buzz cut.
I found it right outside. Didn't I, family?
Oh, yeah, yeah. Oh, yeah, you did.
Mr. Foodie, a ruling, please.
Hm?
Oh, I don't know.
No, it's one of yours.
See? It says "We love Foodies" on the side.
Oh, I like that!
Here, let's-- Let's get a picture of that baby.
But I'm not sure that this cart is one of mine.
Well-- Hey...
Doesn't wobble. Hm.
Get these people a regulation Foodies cart.
All right, contestants, places, please.
Dad, where'd you get this cart?
Made it myself in the garage with parts of the lawn mower
and the side of the house and your mother's car.
See, it's aerodynamic,
got your front and rear sway bars,
rack-and-pinion steering,
and genuine Ginsu spike attitude adjusters
on the hood.
It's also got some, uh, antipersonnel device or two...
just for show.
Damn that hair trigger.
There goes my tiebreaker, Peg.
Well, what do you think?
You can do all this,
and yet you can't get a better job than shoe salesman?
I think a little research will show
that most of your great implements of death
are the result of zombied-out daydreams of shoe salesmen.
Well, now it's time to announce the celebrity host
of the Foodies millionth customer competition.
Well, you loved him as the Beaver,
and...now, I guess, er, as the new Beaver.
So let's give a nice, warm Foodies welcome
to Jerry Mathers.
Thank you very much.
You're very kind.
I, uh, think our agreement called for cash in advance.
Ladies and gentlemen,
it's certainly a pleasure to be here at Foodies,
the store with great food and super low prices.
Oh, merciful heavens,
won't somebody please shoot me?
Somebody, please,
just put a bullet through the ol' Beav's head.
Oh, Al, look at him.
He's brought so much pleasure to so many.
Can't you give him a job at the shoe store?
Yeah, that's all I need, Peg:
Work all day with the Beaver and come home to you.
And, uh, now for the rules:
Whoever gets $1000 worth of food first
gets to keep it.
Which, by the way, is more than I'm getting for this gig.
Can it be true?
Can Match Game PM not use another celebrity?
Am I truly lower than Charles Nelson Reilly?
Who is this blubbering mess?
I think he was Opie.
Opie was Ron Howard, you little fool.
I was--
No, I am the Beaver!
Thank you, Jerry Mathers. Everybody. Everybody.
Spare me your pity clap.
Sign this, Opie.
It's Jerry, and it'll be two bucks.
Well, what I think, uh--
I think Mr. Mathers means is, uh,
contestants, wish each other good luck.
Drop dead.
Lick feet. Eat dust.
Grow hair.
On your mark...
get set...
...go!
Come on, Peg. Come on, Peg!
Follow me, Peg! Follow me, baby!
Come on, Peg, follow me! Just like we planned.
Just like we practiced. Here's one.
Here's two. Here's three.
Peg! Peg! Where is that damn woman?
Look, Al. "Do It To Me Red."
They never have this at my salon.
Look, if you want me, I'll be in beauty supplies.
Hut! Hut!
Hu--
Too cheap, honey. We don't need it.
I know.
Look, Al. I found this really expensive--
Al?
Al Bundy, would you stop fooling around?
Come on.
Al!
Uh, listen, could you settle a bet between me and my sister?
Now, she says you frittered away all your money
on booze and cheap women.
I say doughnuts and cheap booze.
Give me a quarter or just go away.
Get it in there. Let's go. Let's go.
Viva la Cart of Death!
Mr. Beaver?
Could you settle another bet between me and my brother?
He says that you're so low, that for this nickel,
that you would stand on this chair
and bellow like a moose.
Now, I say, if you could bellow like a moose,
why would you be here?
Beav.
Oh, Beav.
Attention, contestants.
Our first totals are in.
The Bundys, $210.
The D'Arcys, 270.
Eat hot grocery death!
Al! Honey! We're losing!
Now, you're a pro at that. Do something!
Stay calm, Peg.
We've been paying too much attention
to what they have been doing.
From now on, we play with our heads
instead of our hearts. Come on.
Okay.
Hut!
Come on, Marcie. Hut!
Jefferson. Huh?
See, Peg, if I was playing with my heart instead of my head,
I'd have waited till Marcie was loading.
Oh, you're a good man, Al.
And a pretty darn good friend too.
Come on, Peg! Come on, Peg!
the D'Arcys, $720 worth.
The Bundys, $710.
Look, here's 50 cents.
It's all I have.
Just please, leave me alone.
Just one last question,
if all the autographs hounds can stay back for a second...
Did you ever think of teaming up with the Eddie Munster kid
for the Thoroughly Pathetic Tour '91?
Look...
let's get this over with once and for all.
I may have to earn a pathetic living
by donning the cap of the Beaver
and appearing at supermarkets,
but at least my father doesn't sell women's shoes.
Golly, that felt good.
That's my douche!
Oh, yeah?
Yeah? Well, you touched my Girlie Fizz.
Come on, give me that. It's mine and I want it.
Damn it, Al! Now, we're both men.
There's plenty of room in feminine hygiene
for the both of us.
All right? Let's shake on it.
I'm blind!
And I smell like summer rain!
Peg! Peg, where are you?
Right here, honey.
Damn Jefferson blinded me with feminine goo.
He ought to take some home and spray it in his own eyes
before he gets in bed with that--
Ow!
Al, Al, honey, come on, stop dilly-dallying.
We're behind!
Come on.
Let's go.
Jefferson, bonanza!
Imported water!
Oh, my God, my contact.
I've lost my contact.
You know, the problem with you, Al,
is you're playing too much with Jefferson and Marcie
to pay attention to what you're doing.
I guess I'll just have to pay attention for the both of us.
Jefferson, I've fallen, and I can't get up.
Marcie? Marcie?
Where are you?
There you are.
Look, Marcie. Shallots from Italy.
You know how much these babies are worth?
I don't know, honey.
You think now you could dash over to the first-aid aisle
and see if you can find me an artery clip?
Okey-dokey.
Ah, me.
That's me.
I was the Beaver.
Who?
Our two families are running neck and neck.
The, uh, the D'Arcys, $990.
The Bundys, $979.
Ladies and gentlemen, it's a horse race.
They've incapacitated the Cart of Death, Peg!
Oh, no. Al, we're gonna lose!
Not this time, babe.
Stee-rike!
One thousand dollars! The Bundys win!
We won! We won!
Peg! Peg, where are you?
Where are you, Peg?
I'm comin', Al.
I'm comin'.
Gangway!
No, Peg, no! It's over!
Well, I married her.
Well, throw another city on the barbie, eh, God?
It's 112, so please remember to crack the window
when you leave Grandma in the car.
Oh, this is the life, isn't it?
Mm-hmm.
Food and an air conditioner.
Well, your father finally came through for us.
So when's Daddy gonna be able to enjoy all this?
Well, I don't know.
The doctor says that cool air
isn't really good for an exposed liver.
But don't worry, Daddy's happy in his pool.
And I just brought him a nice cool drink.