American Dad! Bush Comes to Dinner
Synchronisation : Kemar Transcript : Raceman
Not a day goes by where you are not in my thoughts.
The love and respect I have for you knows no limits.
I long to caress your...
Stan, are you still writing that letter to President Bush?
It's not a letter, it's an essay.
And the CIA operative who writes the best one
gets to meet the big cheese in person.
11:40.
If I don't e-mail this to work by midnight, it doesn't count.
I just need one last sentence to make it perfect.
- Can't you do this downstairs? - No, I need you, you're my muse.
Now shut up. I can't think with your babbling.
Wait. I've got it.
A brilliant ending to my...
What was that?
Probably just a loud noise.
Ah, pillow gun, where danger and comfort meet.
200-thread count...
200-dead count.
Yeah, chokehold, you miserable bastard thief!
That's all you got, huh?
You're gonna die in my arms! What do you think of that?
Wanna see yourself die? Come on. Let's go watch you die.
Oh, it's you.
What the hell is the matter with you?
Don't turn this around. You missed your curfew.
Is that a hickey on your neck?
What? No, it's a choke bruise.
You kids with your autoerotic asphyxiations.
What's this?
Rum?!
Hey, it's not mine. I don't know how it got there.
Sure, throw that in with two measures of gin
and a splash of vermouth and you got yourself a liar's martini.
Look, I put my purse down at the party.
Some girl must have put the flask in there thinking it was hers.
I don't have time for your nonsense. I have to finish my Bush essay.
You're still working on that?
You've officially put more time into that essay than he has on his presidency.
How dare you talk that way about The Dub.
At least he's not a lush. He's been sober for 15 years.
I'm pretty sure that makes him a black belt.
My essay!
I had the perfect last sentence.
What was it? Damn it! No time!
Let the e-mail soar!
Ben, help me.
Roger?
Roger, why am I in a bathtub full of ice?
My baby, everything's gonna be fine.
What the hell are you doing?!
Oh, I'm harvesting one of your kidneys to sell on the black market
then I'm gonna buy Dollywood.
- Dollywood? - Dolly Parton's theme park.
The rides give you the same experience as looking at her :
fun from far away, but really scary up close.
Anyway, it's on sale for $50 million!
You moron. You can't get $50 million for a kidney.
Just once would it kill you to say, "Good idea, Roger"?
This was to celebrate!
Which is why it's better to put too many bullets
in the head than too few.
So, let's review.
Mr. Bullock, Dick just shot me with a curare dart.
He started it...
Okay, people, again,
the curare darts are not toys.
They're for temporarily paralyzing your enemies.
Or just chilling out to some Zeppelin.
Before you go, I have your Bush essays.
Smith, I was extremely impressed by your essay.
Your passion for our commander in chief is inspiring...
but I couldn't help feeling you were one good sentence away.
Duper, the President will be coming to your house for dinner.
- No, it's not fair! - Stan, go to the quiet area.
It's not milk time.
Jump in the shower and the blood starts pumping
Out on the street the traffic star jumping
With folks like me on the job from 9:00 to 5:00.
Roger, what's going on?
Steve, good, you're here. I've been up all night. Sit down. I've got news.
I figured out how to buy Dollywood.
There's a $50 million reward for Osama bin Laden and I know where he is!
What? Yeah, right.
I'm serious. Look, there's coded messages everywhere :
in the New York Times, on the Internet, even in Catcher In The Rye.
Filthy, filthy book.
Well, you did use an awful lot of string.
Yes! He's posing as a junior accountant
at McMillan and Sachs right here in D.C.
I even have his home address : 17 Lake Drive.
Roger, this is incredible! We can save America!
And its Zionist allies.
But even better we can use the $50million reward
- to buy Dollywood. - And get girls!
Chicks dig a guy with a fatwa on his head.
I'll go tell my dad!
Let's just keep this between us.
I don't want to have to go threesies on the reward money.
Hello, White House? We found bin Laden.
Hello?
Bitch hung up on me.
It should be me eating dinner with the President right now, not Duper.
You! This is all your fault!
If you hadn't distracted me by coming home late with a purse full of booze,
- this wouldn't have happened. - I told you that flask wasn't mine.
- Liar! - Where?!
Oh, I thought you said "fire."
I've had water in my ear all day.
You know what? I don't even care anymore. I'm through with you!
You are a lost cause.
Lost cause? What an awful thing to say.
It's nice to know what you really think of me, Dad.
You know what? I'm out of here.
Howdy.
President Bush!
I-I don't understand, sir. I though Duper won the essay contest.
He did,
but then we discovered he plagiarized a good chunk of it from Willy Wonka.
Please, please, come in.
I'd like you to meet my wife Francine.
Hello.
My son Steve.
Holy *****. We just tried to call you! Don't move!
And who is this lovely young lady?
Oh, uh, my-my daughter Hayley.
- She was just leaving. - I'm not going anywhere.
Mr. President, there's so much I want to ask you.
Like how in the hell...?
As I was saying,
- how in the hell...? - ...is dinner not ready yet?
Great final question, Hayley.
Francine, go get dinner ready. The President's hungry.
You're gonna love my wife's cooking, sir.
And her dessert's are to die for.
Actually, Stan, I didn't make a dessert tonight.
Is exactly what you would say if we were getting a divorce tomorrow.
There she goes.
- How about a tour, Mr. President? - Better make it quick, sir.
You've got to prepare for your early press conference tomorrow.
I got plenty of time. Already took my bath.
Wait. I have a question about Iraq.
- I had that one extended. - This isn't over!
Trap door.
And this is my most prized possession.
An exact replica of your cheerleading outfit from Andover,
your old prep school.
Andover's legions, her ancient foe defy
Over the hilltop, a war song is ringing.
Oh, my God, Steve said you were here.
Mr. President, I have something important to show you.
I hope you brought your checkbook.
That's our maid.
Oh, fun! I love Mexicans.
Some say they're essential to our economy.
Others say they're a drain on our resources.
All I know is burritos are delicious.
Stan, the President, dinner!
Actually, Stan, I'll meet you downstairs.
I've got some legislation I need to pass.
I don't understand.
I, um, have a justice I need to push through.
For the Supreme Court? Is there a vacancy?
- I got to poop, Stan. - Oh. Oh, right. Okay, gotcha.
Hayley!
Your one mistake was leaving me alive.
Now, I have a question for the President about Iraq.
What the hell, man...?
Just something to help her relax.
She was clearly nervous about meeting her hero.
Oop, there's already a guy in here.
Oh, no. That's just a mirror.
Francine, this roast is terrific
and your getup is beautiful.
Not every day you have the president to dinner.
All my regular clothes felt silly.
So, like, can you make Tony Blair do whatever you want?
Like, if you told him to eat a bug, he'd have to eat a bug?
Like any type of bug? Like a bug with a lot of legs?
That's right, Stan.
- Meet me in the attic. - Pardon, junior ranger?
I have something big you'll want to get your hands on.
I'll get the ice cream a la mode.
Blood for oil.
Sounds like somebody needs their after-dinner walk.
Steve, help me put your sister in the pit of no return.
We'll be right back.
And autographed George Brett baseball?
Come back here, baseball!
Baseball!
Sit down, Mr. President.
I am about to tell you something that will change the face of history.
Sure thing, maid. Baseball seems to take a shine to you.
Your long search for the terrorist mastermind
who's responsible for tormenting our great nation is about...
You know what? Where are my manners, would you like a snack?
Here, have a Dollypocket.
They're Hot Pockets I stuffed with rhinestones.
Oh, my God, you're choking!
I'll get you something to drink right away.
Now for your drink.
- This is gin! - Oh, my mistake.
This is scotch! I quit alcohol 15 years ago!
Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry.
I feel light-headed.
Here. Drink this.
Don't look at me. That's tap water.
Oh, wait. That was vodka.
Mr. President?
Francine, is the President in there with you?!
- Who?! Klaus? - No. The President!
- Klaus is here with me! - I'm in here, Stan. I'm fine!
Thank you!
Oh, thank God! Mr. President!
You escaped the Pit of No Return?
- How did you get past my... - They're all dead, Dad.
Even the younglings?
I made you a wallet out of their hides.
No!
A little change pocket. That's nice. What did you make this out of?
No! My younglings!
My wife would run me over with a car if she knew I was drinking again.
I think I hear your testicles.
Yeah. Yeah, you hear that?
"Save us! We're in the First Lady's purse,"
"and it's dark and smells like peppermint!"
Boy!
This is the first time I've relaxed since I took office,
and it feels good!
Mr. President, what are you doing?
You're a recovering alcoholic!
I've recovered my sense of fun is what I've recovered!
Bang!
Whoop! My finger's not a gun! Everybody do "The Skull and Bones"!
Oh... my... God!
- How dare you gloat at this?! - What did you expect?
I'm a "lost cause." Remember?
Hey! Look at me! I'm a TV antenna!
Am I gettin' good reception? Can you see the game?
Coffee! I'll get you some coffee! How do you take it?
Well, Stan,
I like my coffee like my Secretaries of State,
not too dark and a little sweet.
- Did you tell him about Osama? - What?
Oh, no, no, no. We started drinking.
Quick! Give me some coffee!
The President's off his ass, and we have to sober him up!
Oh, my God! Here. Here's some breakfast blend.
The President falls off the wagon after 15 years of clean living,
and you want to serve him breakfast blend?!
Breakfast blend?!
Yeah, that could work. Where are the filters?
- Above the sink. - Above the sink?
Above the sink?! Oh, yeah. Here they are.
Wake up, you drunk! You were supposed to tell him we found Osama!
Where's the President?
He wanted to keep partying, so Hayley snuck him out the back.
She wanted me to tell you something. What was it? What... was it?
Oh, yeah. Uh... she said she's gonna bring down the presidency.
Hayley!
Mr. President! Damn it!
Where would Hayley take a drunken President?
Yes! Hole in one! Victory swig!
- Sir, quick, come with me! - He doesn't have to go with you.
Yeah. I wanna golf!
I wanna golf!
Twisted Sister, man! Come on! Do the "Skull and Bones"!
Good Lord! He's more liquor than man!
This is what the Internet was made for.
Hey! Check it out!
- Look, Mr. President... - Touch it.
Sir, you are very drunk and you have a press conference...
Touch it!
You've got a press conference in the morning, and I hate to be a wet blanket...
Touch it!
Sir, we need to sober you up!
Hayley, get me some cold water to splash on his face or something.
Cold water? Great idea!
Pool hopping!
I'm not sure we should try and bring Osama Bin Laden in by ourselves.
Steve, we don't have a choice.
No one will listen to us, and you got too drunk to tell the President.
- What? It wasn't me who... - Enough with the past!
Are you sure you're okay to drive?
I will be after I hear the sobering wisdom of Miss Dolly Parton.
Jolene, Jolene, Jolene, Jolene.
I'm begging you, please don't take my man...
Ha-ha! Look at me! I'm running unopposed!
No pool.
Nope.
I can't believe it. This is a national disaster!
Maybe we should call FEMA so they can rescue him in 4 or 5 days.
I am sick of your snide comments!
President Bush is a good, honest man, and you're a liar!
I told you, that rum wasn't mine.
Lies! It's like you have to lie to live.
You're a lie-a-betic! You have lie-a-betes!
Twice a day, you have to take a shot of insu-liene.
Uh, Dad. Bush is gone.
All right. 17 Lake Drive. This is where Osama's living.
Now, we have to gain his trust so he invites us into his home.
So remember your lines, and don't break character.
Yes?
Get him!
I could live in the sea. I'd make friends with a whale,
and we'd live in a sunken pirate ship. That'd show global warming.
- Ooh! - Howdy.
I don't want to wear a suit! I wanna be naked!
- Sir, please don't fight me. - I wanna be naked!
- Aw, let the man be naked. - Stop doing that!
Look at him clear that fence! Didn't even scrape his junk.
Where are you hiding Osama?! We broke the code. We know he's here!
I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a med student at Georgetown.
Well, terrorist, you leave us no choice.
We will now torture you in my backless chair.
- That's a stool. - It's a backless chair!
Don't diminish my invention.
- Can't catch this doggie! - Mr. President, stop!
- Sir, you've got to put on your clothes. - You can't make me. I want pancakes!
We have to get you home and in bed. You have a press conference in 4 hours.
Oh, who gives a frog's fat ass? I didn't sign up for this.
I was a frat dude who owned a baseball team!
Life was fun!
But now I've got all this responsibility and pressure.
Maybe I ought to quit this whole President thing.
- What? - Oh, I've seen my approval ratings.
Truth is, Stan, America just don't like me no more.
Sir, don't say that! This country loves you!
- This country needs you! - Yeah, I appreciate that, Stan but...
I think it's time for me to hang it up.
- Love it. Love everything about it. - Guess I should call Cheney.
Let him know he'll be taking the reins.
This isn't my cell phone.
No. You're wearing my jacket, sir. That's the essay I wrote for the contest.
"Not since Reagan has a leader so perfectly embodied"
"the American ideal." You really think so?
Of course. Didn't you read my essay?
Nah. I got a gal who reads things for me.
Oh, well then, may I?
"He doesn't make his decision on polls,"
"expert opinion or even facts."
"For almighty God is his copilot,"
"and in November, 2000, he was cleared for takeoff."
- Oh, please. That is just... - Beautiful.
- Read some more. - Not until you put on your pants.
Not easy, is it?
Sitting there for minutes on end with zero lumbar support.
Actually, I'm kind of getting used to it.
You know, in Third World countries, most people don't sit in chairs at all.
- They squat, which... - Enough.
What the hell?!
Tell me where Bin Laden is or I'll kill the boy!
- Roger! - Don't think I'll do it?
- I want to do it! - Give it up! You're wrong, okay?!
Danny doesn't know where Bin Laden is
because Bin Laden doesn't live in D.C.,
and he doesn't work as an accountant at MacMillian and Sachs!
But the code... I was so sure.
I...
I guess I wanted Dollywood so bad I was willing to believe anything.
What am I gonna do now?
You know, Danny, I think I'm gonna rob you.
"The love and respect I have for you knows no limits."
"I long to caress your..."
My what? My what?
Is that it? Is that how it ends?
Uh... it has no end.
Just like the legacy of George W. Bush!
Now, that is awesome!
I can't thank you enough, Stan.
I was really starting to doubt myself,
but knowing you feel this way has turned me right around.
- It's been my honor, sir. - That's very touching.
But none of that's gonna matter when Jon Stewart gets a hold of this!
Me and X-Mac wanna keep partying, but the liquor stores are all closed.
You got your flask on you?
That was your flask!
Great. You got me. I guess you were right.
- I'm just a lost cause. - Wait a minute.
Stan, you told her she was a lost cause?
Sir, she's been nothing but trouble.
She stays out late, she lies, she drinks.
Stan, those things don't make your daughter a lost cause.
Look at me.
When I was her age, I was blitzed off my ass 24-seven.
Doin' Tequila shots, Jell-O shooters, Mind Erasers,
Cement Mixers, Dr. Pepper Bombs, Mud Slides, Kamikazes,
Jageritas, Lemon Drops, B-52s,
Fuzzy Navels, Gorilla Farts, Scorpion Bowls, Singapore Slings,
Prairie Fires, Bloody Marys, Slippery Nipples...
Point is, no matter how much I messed up,
Flaming Everclears,
no matter how much I messed up, my daddy always believed in me.
Heck, Stan, your daughter's not a lost cause.
She's right on track to be President.
I never looked at it like that. I guess maybe I have been a little hard on you.
Well, I'm sorry I lied.
Thanks for standing up for me, President Bush.
Oh, you're welcome, darlin'.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a press conference to stammer through.
That means he has to poop.
Well, I guess he's better than Cheney.
Sorry about your Redskins on Sunday, Bill.
Next week. Next week.
Bill-bo, we still on for drinks after work?
You know it, Ted.
How do you like your new house, Bill?
A lot better than the one on Lake Drive.
Bill, I need those reports by 4:00.
You got it, sir.
Except there won't be a 4:00.
- You okay, Bill? - Yeah. Just...
can't get Powerpoint to open.
Synchronisation : Kemar Transcript : Raceman