08x05 - Banking on Marcy

[bunniefuu]

Al, why you watching
TV with the sound off?

It's the new rap channel, Peg.

I hate this stuff when
I hear it on the radio,

but now that I see it,

I can appreciate its
profound statement.

What's that one called?

It's called "Pump That Rump."

I'm really into it.

Well, if history
teaches us anything,

you'll be out of it
in seven seconds.

Oh, God, what a day.

I made an appearance
as the Verminator

at this elementary
school, right?

First, they make me walk
through this metal detector.

Now I've got enough
poison strapped to my back

to dust an entire rainforest

and they wanna know why
I'm carrying a toenail clipper.

Then there's the pat-down...

first by the principal,

then by the school nurse,

then again by the principal
while the school nurse watched.

Finally, I make it
into the classroom,

and after talking the substitute
teacher in from the ledge,

we go to the cafeteria

where I taught the kids
how to k*ll roaches, rats

and... something
they call Sloppy Joes.

You know, it is a wonder I
got out of there unscathed.

You know, I'm telling you,

that is the last time I
appear at a Catholic school.

Peggy.

Guess what happened
at the bank today.

A hold-up man gave
you his mask to wear?

Turn that disgusting thing off.

Here, watch this.

Steel Magnolias.

What's Boris Karloff
doing in a dress?

That's Shirley
MacLaine, you baco-bit.

I owe Boris an apology.

You owe everything an apology.

Anyway, Peggy,

those wombless
weasels at the bank

want me to be the speaker

at the next
shareholders' meeting.

That's a good thing, isn't it?

No, not when you have to
tell them the bank's in trouble.

How much trouble?

We backed Last Action Hero.

Oh.

- I'm so sorry.
- Thanks.

And to cut costs,

we may even have to
lay off some employees.

You know, Marcy, as someone
who's been to your bank,

I certainly hope you keep
those 75 vice-presidents

and lay off those
pesky two tellers.

You know, the ones who work

a cool half hour
apiece on pay day.

You know, Al, you can avoid
the wait to cash your paycheck

because the hot dog vendor
outside always has a coin dispenser.

Marcy, why are you here?

I wanted to talk
to Peggy privately.

No, no. Why here on earth?

I'll handle this, Marcy.

Ah, you come in here to my house

and you annoy me
with your sad little...

Whoo, there it is.

There's no sound.

No sound to us humans.

Come on, Marcy.

So, tell me what's wrong

with speaking to the
shareholders of the bank.

Well, I'm terrified
of speaking in public.

It all started with a
terrible childhood incident.

This isn't your Uncle
No-pocket story, is it?

No.

This was in the first grade
when I had to give a talk

on why I love the
pledge of allegiance.

Well, anyway,

I was right in the
middle of my speech

when I looked down

and saw the biggest,
ugliest cockroach

which ever spewed from
the bowels of the earth

crawling up my little leg.

Well, I screamed
like a lunch whistle

and ran around the
room tearing off my dress,

revealing my "Hey, hey,
we're the Monkees" panties

to the entire room.

Well, it may not surprise you

that boys can be extremely
cruel at times like this.

They spent the entire
rest of the school year

following me around saying,

"Can Davy come out and play?"

But one night I showed them.

I showed them all.

There was a class field
trip to Mt. Rushmore.

I told them I was
too sick to make it.

The bus was barreling
down a rain-slicked highway.

It would have been hard to stop

even if the bus had
functioning brakes, but...

they never laughed at me
or my panties ever again.

Oh...

Well...

That was a lovely story.

I don't think you'll be
needing any more of this.

You know, Marcy, I
know who could help you

with your public
speaking problem.

It's Dr. Angela.

She is the best radio
psychiatrist in the city

and has quite an informative
car repair show, too.

She's helped me with
some of my problems.

Although...

obviously not all of them.

Yo, video channel?

Yeah, do you take requests?

I'd like "Rump Shaker,"

"Gangster Booty,"

and "Put More Ass on that Lass."

My age? Um...

I'm 15.

I need parental permission?
Just a minute, please.

Tell him it's okay.

It's okay.

He's over 40.

Why did you tell
him my real age?

They already knew your real age.

They wanted to know your I.Q.

But they're gonna
play 'em though, right?

Oh, wipe your chin.

Peggy, I just got off the
phone with Dr. Angela.

She was a great help.

Pig.

Here, watch this.

Fried Green Tomatoes.

What's Mel Torme
doing in a dress?

That's Kathy Bates,
you potted plant.

Anyway, Peggy,
Dr. Angela is a gem.

I told her about my fear
of speaking in public,

so she asked,

is there any time I'm
not afraid of speaking?

And I said, why, yes.

During sex, I
talk, yell, scream...

Hey, excuse me.

You know, I'm planning
on having dinner later.

Well, I plan on having sex later

so I guess we'll both
be cooking for ourselves.

Go on, Marcy, you
were screaming...

Oh, yes, so...

Dr. Angela suggested that I try

something called transference.

Whenever I'm gonna have
to speak in a scary setting,

I just pretend I'm in
a more relaxed one

like my bedroom,

and presto, I can
speak in public.

Ah...

Dr. Angela just told
me I should take a lover,

but I'm afraid we'd wake Al.

Anyway, since you're the one

that helped me through all
this, it would mean a lot to me

if you would come and
hear me speak next Saturday.

Oh, I'd be delighted.

Thanks.

Now, see?

I told you you'd
like this movie.

I'm glad to see you're
finally growing up.

You know, Peg,

that Kathy Bates
has a mighty fine butt.

Why does she waste
her time making movies?

So, we still say,

don't give up on Last
Action Hero just yet.

It still hasn't been released
in Albania or Zimbabwe.

Everything else,
however, seems to be fine.

Wonderful. Never better.

Now, delivering the emergency
state-of-the-bank address,

vice president in charge
of... something or other,

Miss Marcy D'Arcy.

Good afternoon.

My, there are a lot
of you out there today.

The last time I saw this
many people in a bank,

I closed my window
and went to lunch.

All kidding aside,

I'm here to report
some bad news.

Because of some
unfortunate investments,

the bank is being
forced to downsize.

But the good news is,

all indications suggest

that the terrible economy
is going to get bedroom...

Butter... better.

As you can see,

when the Federal Reserve
Board eases restrictions,

interest rates fall.

But when it tightens...

interest rates...

rise.

Oh, my God.

Al, something's wrong.

I've never seen
Marcy act like this.

You wanna see acting,
Peg? Check this out.

For years, the Fed held back

and interest rates
rose and rose and rose

eight percent, ten percent,

17%, up and up.

Jefferson, have you ever
seen Marcy do this before?

Not in public.

Unless you count the
Skyway at Disneyland.

You mean that
she's about to have...

Big time.

It must be that
transference thing

that Dr. Angela told her about.

I just hope she's near
the end of her speech.

I guess not.

Then, when the rates rose
as high as they possibly could

and the economy
could take no more,

suddenly the Fed
began pumping in money

faster and faster.

Here we go.

Oh, yes, yes!

Oh, Jefferson! Oh,
Steve! Oh, Jamal!

I hope this news was as
good for you as it was for me.

Good day.

So that's what one looks like.

Oh, Marcy, relax.

It happened.

It could have
happened to anyone.

Well, it couldn't
have happened to me.

Well, it could,

but we can't afford
the pony rides anymore.

Don't you understand my pain?

I'm a business woman.

We're not allowed to go
flopping around on the floor

like a mud skipper.

At the very least, it's
considered unprofessional.

This is gonna cost me my job.

I'm ruined.

Marcy, the bank just called.

Oh, I knew it.

You're getting a raise.

And they're gonna loan you out

to deliver bad news
to other corporations.

At $5,000 a pop.

So to speak.

Well, I don't know.

This goes against my principles.

What do you think, Peggy?

Marcy, for five grand,

not only would I do it,

but I'd do it in the
corn fields on Hee Haw.

♪ She works hard for the money ♪

♪ So hard for it, honey ♪

♪ She works hard for the money ♪

♪ So you better
treat her right ♪

♪ She works hard for the money ♪

♪ So hard for it, honey ♪

♪ She works hard for the money ♪

♪ So you better
treat her right ♪

♪ She works hard for the money ♪

Al... Marcy's making
another appearance today.

So, what do you say we
have a candlelight dinner and...

take in a speech?

It doesn't work anymore, Peg.

What doesn't work?

It.

How can you tell?

I've been reading Playboy,

Big uns, little uns,
in-between uns, nothing.

And I remember...

it hasn't worked since
the afternoon I saw Marcy

do that horrible thing
at the bank meeting.

Marcy k*lled it, Peg.

You made it sick,
but Marcy k*lled it.

Well, I guess then we
can just put it behind us

and get on with
the rest of our lives.

Well, Peg, what will you do?

Oh, I'll be okay.

I'll just keep going
and going and going...

Great news, Dad.

Tuition is going up at school.

How much?

Hundreds, thousands. Who cares?

The point is...

Mrs. D'Arcy is gonna
give us the news. Oh, man.

Now, son,

you're talking about
this like it's a good thing.

Now, don't you remember
when you were younger

and I told you never
to stare directly

at the sun or
Grandma and you did?

Well, this is like staring
at Grandma in the sun.

Or your father in the shower.

If we're speaking
hypothetically.

Peg, I'm trying to
have a talk with my son.

Isn't Oprah doing a show
on women with chafed thighs

who cause forest
fires or something?

No. You made that up.

Didn't you?

I know you did.

Well, I'm gonna go
check the Oprah hotline.

Son... now, I realize that my
advice to you in the past has been,

well, a little...
a little shaky.

You mean like, "Be
yourself, people will like you"?

Exactly. But, son...

you do not wish to see this
woman in the throes of passion.

Please believe me.

It's k*lled before.

It will k*ll again.

Sorry, Dad, but I got
a pack of condoms

and a girl who
thinks Urkel's sexy.

I'm going.

Bud, got a question for you.

I don't know what to
wear to my speech tonight.

I need something
hip, cool, collegiate.

What do you suggest?

Well, it depends.

Now, are you gonna be back late?

Can no one hear my cries?

Okay, Marcy.

I'm ready to go to the college.

Honey, are you okay?

No, I'm not okay.

Look, Marcy, I'm a
man. I have needs.

I am tired of everyone
else having sex but me...

and Al and Peggy.

And probably Bud.

Listen, Jefferson,

if you're going to talk
about personal matters,

then let's go someplace private.

Now, what's bothering you?

You've been having
such a good time on stage,

you've forgotten about us.

Oh, Sugar Tush.

I always think about
you when I'm up there.

But it... it... it's
not the same.

Marcy...

I miss our rodeo nights.

The nights when you
come out in your little teddies

and your batting gloves.

I have been neglecting
my little Fluff Bunny.

Ah, look, Marcy,

your speeches are your career.

You're making good money,
I shouldn't stand in your way.

I'll just go home

and dream of
you totally naked...

swarming all over me.

I've got a better idea.

Before I go to the
college tonight,

how about we go
home and I give you

your own private little speech?

Would you... talk to me, Marcy?

Talk to me.

"Four score and
seven years ago..."

Oh, yes!

"Our fathers brought forth
on this continent a new nation."

Emancipate me!

Set me free!

Well, my body's dead.

I suppose a detached
head could live on.

So, you had Dr. Angela
reverse the procedure?

Yes, so I can no
longer speak in public,

but at least I can
please my Jefferson.

Where's Jefferson?

In the emergency room
being treated for dehydration.

Yeah, I had my
15 minutes of fame

and made a lot of money,

but I guess all
things considered,

everything turned out okay.

Yes, welcome back to
Dr. Angela's loser line.

Go ahead. Next caller.

Yes. Dr. Angela...

My name is, uh,

Sal Undy...

and I'm having a little...

ubble-tray with my enis-pay.