05x08 - No Country for Old Dogs

[bunniefuu]

It's alive!

Johnny 5 is alive!

Johnny 5 is alive!

What will Johnny 5 do first?

I'm thirsty!

I'm hungry!

I'm Batman.

The night my car careened off
that Mississippi Highway and

flipped into a ditch is a
night I'll never forget.

To be fair, I don't remember
much about the accident itself,

'cause I was banged up pretty bad.

There was much speculation
as to what occurred on that

unseasonably cold August night,
but the most common thing I hear

is, "Morgan Freeman, you've been in
more than 75 feature-length films.

Why on God's green earth do you
drive a 1997 Nissan Maxima?"

And for that question, like all questions,
there's more than one answer.

You see, a '97 Maxima represented a
significant improvement over the previous

year's model.

And compared to my '89 Ford Probe,
well, it wasn't even a fair contest.

In 2002, there was a factory
recall on the alternator, but I

brought it right in, and they
fixed it in a day or so.

They even gave me a loaner,
a brand-new Altima.

Nice car, but it's
certainly no Maxima.

Oh, oh, and that right there?

That's the flip that should
have k*lled me, but thanks to

Nissan's five-star crash rating,
along with dual air bags,

crumple zone, seat-belt
pre-tensioners, and side-door

beams, well, I'm alive today.

I suppose the other noteworthy aspect of
this story is I've been [bleep] my own

step-granddaughter.

It seems like a form of
hysterical blindness.

Has he been through any
traumatic events lately?

Perhaps seen something that
could have caused this?

Not that I can think of.

I can't believe you gave
up your powers for me.

I...love you, Lois.

I don't know what to say.

I love you, Lana.

Superman...Man of steel.

So, I come out of the booth all
hunched and kind of woozy on

my feet like this, like, "oh, oh."

And then bam! Boom!

Kneel before my rod.

How about that, huh?

I'm fast, player, but
you the fastest.

Bam! Right up in that ass.

Oh, yeah!

I-I can't believe you
did that for me.

♪ Ba-da-boop, ba-da-boop ♪

Superman.

Dad!

It's okay if I call you dad, right,
Mr. Drummond?

Of course.

Why would that make
anyone uncomfortable?

Dudley and I want to spend the
afternoon at the bike shop.

All alone?

I don't like it.

Please, dad?

I'll do all my chores this week.

I'll be your sl*ve.

Oh, now, Arnold, our
relationship as father/son in no

ways resembles the owner/sl*ve
dynamic of yes... you know what?

Just go.

Bottoms up, boys.

I-I don't think my dad would
like me drinking wine.

Arnold, I'm a
middle-aged white man.

I automatically know
what's best for you.

You do sound like Mr. Drummond.

Dad.

Arnold? Where have you been?

Dad, I don't know what to do.

The Maytag repairman is
showing me naked cartoons.

I want you to listen
very carefully.

What comes next is important.

He's going to ask you to play Tarzan,
and Dudley's going to be into it.

The audience might laugh,
but it's not funny.

They're just confused by
the massive shift in tone.

What exactly are you
getting at, dad?

Aaaah!

I don't know who you are.

I don't know what you want.

If you're looking for ransom, I
can tell you I'm a man of means.

I probably shouldn't
have told you that.

If you return my son, that
will be the end of it.

But if you keep him, I will find
you and I will awkwardly ask

parents to have a frank
discussion with their children

about what they've just seen.

Good luck.

What do you want? Money?

It's not much, but take it!

Don't matter what you got!

Not a lot?!

So what?!

And this is my
sister, Rainbow Dim.

9/11 was an inside job.

Oh, sure it was.

Hey, do I know you?

Not yet.

You want to get out of here?

Absolutely.

Hey!

You stole my kidney, didn't you?

Oh, you got me.

I guess I'm the assh*le.

Well, look at the mirror.

You?

Well, good luck selling
that kidney.

And when I looked outside, there
on the door handle was a hook!

And that's how I met your mother.

Condoms reduce the risk of
pregnancy and STDs, but only

when used properly.

♪ Fruity fables ♪

♪ fruity fables ♪

Barry!

Just where the h-e-c-letter-that-comes-after-j
have you been?

Oh, just out.

Oops!

We talked about this, Barry.

Your sex-education job violates
everything we believe in.

You don't understand.

God came to me in a dream.

Barry, you must continue
teaching sex education!

But, God, Arthur says
sex ed is evil.

Arthur can eat my ass.

What is the most evil
thing in the world?

Abortions?

What leads to abortions?

Pregnancy?

What prevents pregnancy?

Holy crap!

Condoms prevent pregnancy!

Damn it, Barry!

Opposing sex ed is way more
important than abortions.

What?!

I don't care if there's
a billion abortions.

I just can't stand the thought
of teenagers doing it.

Those taut, firm bodies
exploring one another with the

kind of excitement that I'll never
experience again in my life.

And even if I try to recapture
my youth with a willing... mind you,

willing... teenage
participant, I go to prison?!

You know what they do
in prison, Barry?

There's a thing called
salad tossing.

Well, I'm not going
to prison, Barry.

I'm not going to prison!

Attica! Attica!

Arthur!

Let's go have sex, baby.

Okay.

Oh, no.

I'm sorry, Jesus.

♪ Fruity fables ♪

♪ fruity fables ♪

These Americans butcher my men like...
Well, like I butcher der Jews.

Did they mark you?

Yes, mein Fuehrer.

Let me see.

What the hell is this
supposed to be, a swastika?

I think it-s the
glaive from "Krull."

Reaterdz!

I'm putting together
a special team.

The Nazis are rounding up, k*lling, and
sterilizing the mentally disabled.

Each of you owe me 50 pieces of
n*zi candy, and I want my candy.

Sound good?

Mein God, Leni Riefenstahl
has really let herself go.

Get out of the...

Tards, tards, tards, tards!

Mein Fuehrer, I know we're
exterminating their kind from

the face of the earth, but
the preferred term is...

Tell me your troop positions.

I respectfully refuse.

Give me candy.

I respect... Did you
just ask for candy?

I might have... You're too slow.

Send in the bear.

Oh, thank goodness.

It is a bear like a bear hug, not
like the bare-naked Jew who

will r*pe... Aaaah!

So, who are your three
handsome escorts, Frauelein?

Why, they're just three
friends of mine, Col. Landa.

Hello. Nice to meet you.

Oh, Italians.

Right this way.

Tonight's movie will be "Radio,"
starring Cuba Gooding Jr.

Wh-where is my pie?

You want strawberry
pie or apple pie?

I want b-b-b-b... I want b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b...

...B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b...
I want b-b-b-b-b...

What in the......
B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b...

I want b-b-both of them.

Enough is enough.

I have had it with this
"Radio" bull[bleep]

Turn off the movie!

Stop the projector!

You hate "Radio," too?

With every fiber of mein
being, mein Italian fr...

Mongo, we did it!

To think, my needlessly
complicated plan to k*ll him

with a showing of "Radio"

failed, and yet still, Hitler...
You k*lled my best friend!

That's our cue.

We weren't the ones
teaching radio.

Radio is the one been teaching us.