04x17 - It's a Mad, Mad, Mad House

[bunniefuu]

Behold, the awesome...

the incredible, Annihilator.

Oh, just call me
Steve. Ha, ha, ha.

Ooh, boss ball, big
guy. Can I hold it?

- Will you be careful with it?
- Oh, absolutely.

Whoa, Nellie. Why,
this baby weighs a ton.

- Just give it to me.
- You know...

I've often imagined myself
on the Pro Bowlers Tour.

Yeah, traveling from one
Midwestern town to another.

Hanging out with
guys named Merle.

Steve, give me my ball.

It's the championship match. I've just
done my interview with Chris Schenkel...

and now it's just me and
Earl Anthony, mano a mano.

- Steve.
- I step to the line...

I take aim.

I make my approach.

One...

two, three!

- Yes.
- Yes, what?

Yes, you did that.

You always do that.

Four, five, six, seven, eight.

- Your turn, Judy.
- Not so fast.

Boardwalk's mine. Pay up.

Oh, you're right.

And according to
this card, I owe you...

a buck.

I've got a funny feeling I'd have
a lot more money if I could read.

- Hey, Mom.
- Hi.

- Hi, Aunt Harriette. Wanna play?
- Oh, no, thank you, sweetie.

Judy, didn't I ask you
to straighten up in here?

- Yeah.
- Well?

You meant today?

Laura, did you remember to
take the chicken out of the freezer?

Oh, I sure did, Mom.

About five minutes ago.

By the way, Mom, I'm going to a party,
and I'm supposed to bring brownies.

- Think you could whip some up?
- Whip some up?

Well, not a lot.
Just a few dozen.

I have worked overtime
every night this week...

- and do you know what I am?
- Rich?

No, I'm tired. I've asked
everyone around here to help out.

Honey, would you
iron this shirt for me?

I would do it myself but you always
make them so fresh and crispy.

Carl, I really don't
have time. I can't...

Hey, Mom, where's dinner?

Edward, I've been home
less than five minutes.

Can I at least have
time to breathe?

Sure, but can't you breathe
while you're making dinner?

That's it. I work 60 hours a
week but that's not enough, right?

I apparently also have to cook
chickens, iron crispy shirts...

and bake brownies for the world.
- Harriette's right.

Now come on, everyone, we've
all got to help out around here.

- Yeah. We should all pitch in.
- Listen.

You go upstairs and have
yourself a nice, relaxing bubble bath.

And when you come
back down, I promise you...

that there'll be a piping hot
meal waiting on the table for you.

Thank you. That's an awful
lot of work. I appreciate it.

Hey, it's no problem.

Hello, Pizza City?

The logarithm,
also called log...

is the exponent indicating the
power to which a fixed number...

"the base," must be raised
to produce a given number.

Oh, perk up. This is riveting.

- Very nice, Vivian.
- Thank you, Steven.

I realize that logarithms
can be difficult. So perhaps...

a visual aid might help
stimulate your interest.

I knew it.

- Vivian...
- One moment, Steven.

Now I want you all to take a
close look at the logs on this chart.

Now don't just memorize
them. Work with them...

play with them, see how
much fun they can be.

What is so funny?

Vivian, look at the chart. There's
a girl with enormous boom-booms.

I am not amused.

No one is leaving this classroom until
the individual responsible comes forward.

Now this lack of respect for
math really frosts my behind.

Hey, Eddie. Don't
forget your poster.

Eddie, perhaps you
could stay for a moment.

- Thanks a lot, Waldo!
- No prob, Bob.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie...

I'm sorry, Miss Connors.

I thought that putting this
poster up would be funny...

but instead it's turned out
to be tasteless and rude.

- That's right.
- Well, live and learn. Can I go now?

- Yes. Down to Principal Shimata's office.
- Oh, no!

Miss Connors, he just nailed me for writing
my number down in the girls' bathroom.

He said one more stunt,
I'm off the basketball team.

Well, you should've thought about that
before you tacked up those boom-booms.

Yes, ma'am.

Eddie, you are a bright young
man, why are you behaving this way?

I don't know. I
guess... I just...

Well, I don't know, I mean...

Well, I don't wanna
lay my problems on you.

Problems? What problems?

Oh, just stuff, at home.

But I don't wanna
get into it. It's painful.

Eddie, talk to me.
What's going on at home?

Well, Miss Connors...

Oprah uses the phrase
"dysfunctional family."

But, hey, the bottom
line is that I screwed up...

and now it's time
to pay the piper, so...

Eddie, if you need
someone to confide in...

No. I don't wanna
air out dirty laundry.

I'll just go down to
Principal Shimata's office...

and let him take away the one
thing I have left that brings me joy.

Well, Eddie, Eddie, wait.

Maybe in light of your stress
at home, we could let this go.

- Really?
- Yes. But no more hijinks in my classroom.

Oh, yes, ma'am.
Thank you, ma'am.

Ah. Dopey moi. I
forgot my Mr. Calculator.

Oh, don't be glum, Vivian. Very
few share our passion for trig.

No, it's not that, Steven.
I'm worried about a student.

He says he has problems at
home but he won't talk about it.

Ah. Another lonely teenage
mariner navigating his fragile kayak...

through the stormy sea of life.

Yeah, something like that.

Well, knowing you as I do, Vivian,
I'm sure you'll take the active approach.

Active approach?

Well, this poor teenager, whoever he
may be, is obviously crying out for help.

- But I don't really know what's wrong.
- Well, find out. Investigate.

You really think I should?

Oh, absolutely. Reach
out and touch that student.

And tell them Steven
Q. Urkel sent you.

Mom, can you help me
with my science project?

Mom, I forgot to tell you, I need
a costume for the school play.

Honey, have you seen my black socks?
The comfy ones with the blue stripe?

Hold it. I thought everyone
was gonna pitch in around here.

I'm helping, Aunt Harriette.

Richie!

Look at you!

- What are you doing?
- I'm making a cake for dinner.

Mom. What about
my science project?

Judy, she doesn't have time.
My costume's gonna take all night.

Where are the black
socks? You seen them?

Hey, Mom. Where's dinner?

All right! All right!
All right! That's it!

I have asked you again and
again to help all around here...

and you've ignored me.

From now on, you'll see what it's
like to have to fend for yourselves!

Because Harriette Winslow is
on strike! Move out of my way!

Well, Dad. Is that legal?

Oh, Mom, this place
is really getting gross.

Then clean it up.
I'm still on strike.

I can't pitch in right now. I promised
Grandma I'd help her get ready.

- For what?
- Tonight's that charity bachelor auction.

Oh, Lord.

Remember last year when she bought that
date with that retired underwear model?

Then demanded her money
back when she found out...

he modeled ladies' underwear.

- Harriette!
- Carl!

Harriette, I can't find my
ripped jeans and my bandanna.

I'll call the FBI, dear.

I need those things. Tonight is
my big undercover drug bust...

and I don't have
a thing to wear.

Carl, where did
you see them last?

Well, I put them in the
hamper two whole days ago.

Honey, check the clothes hamper.

Well, gee, didn't anybody
do laundry around here?

Not me. I'm still on strike.

Well, excuse me, Norma Rae.

- Look, Carl...
- No, you look.

Now if you wanna play this
little strike game with the kiddies...

it's okey-dokey with me.

But now, you're messing
with the big kahuna.

And the big kahuna wants some
attention from his little wahine.

And what would you like
your little wahine to do?

Well, the hut's a mess.

So why don't you just hula
yourself on into the laundry room...

and wash the big
kahuna's wikiwiki.

Either the big kahuna's
had too many mai tais...

or he's got his
head up his volcano.

Because there is no way this little wahine
is going anywhere near your wikiwiki.

I'll get it.

Hello. Are your parents home?

Beats me. Are you here to clean?

Um, no.

Well, I'd love to chat but
I have to go make dinner.

- You're making dinner?
- Yup. We're having hot fudge sundaes.

Thank God. I'm
sick of candy bars.

- Ooh, Grandma, you look beautiful.
- Oh, thanks, honey.

I just hope 200 bucks is
enough to buy me a decent man.

You just be patient and don't
buy the first guy that you see.

It's a recession, sugar. I
might be able to buy two.

Carl, you look fine.
- No, I don't.

Now you know I like to wear my
ripped jeans when I go out to buy dr*gs.

Hey, who are you?

I'm Vivian Connors.
Your son's math teacher.

It is no wonder he
is acting up in class.

- How can he live in this madhouse?
- Excuse me?

What are you talking about?

Eddie said there were problems
at home, but this is appalling.

Thank God the boy is just
pulling harmless pranks.

Miss Connors?

Oh, Eddie.

You poor child. Come
here. You need a hug.

Steven, I wanna thank you
for urging me to get involved.

This young man would have
been better off raised by wolves.

You mean that student with
troubles at home is Eddie Winslow?

- That's right.
- Oh, boy.

And I would never have come here if
you hadn't urged me to get involved.

Come here, Steve.

Now, Eddo. You have
enough troubles on your hand.

No sense adding
manslaughter to that list.

Will somebody please
tell us what's going on?

I will.

Your son has been
acting up in my class...

and he confided in me that
he is having problems at home.

Miss Connors, I assure you
that our son, Edward Winslow...

is not having
problems at home. Yet.

Edward, go wait in
the kitchen for me.

- But, Dad...
- Now.

Yes, sir.

Harriette, would you please
explain to Miss Connors here...

that we are a
very loving family?

- I'll try.
- Good.

And while you're doing that, I'll
be in the kitchen k*lling our son.

- Hi, Dad.
- Knock it off.

Yes, sir.

You know, Edward,
I just don't get it.

You appear to be quite normal.

You have all five
senses, you walk erect.

But yet, you often
act like a bonehead!

Edward, your
mother is out there...

trying to explain things to one
very traumatized math teacher.

Dad, let's just face it. Miss
Connors just picked a bad day to visit.

And I picked a
bad time to say that.

Edward, let me
get this straight.

Now you pulled a stupid
stunt in class and got caught.

But instead of taking
your lumps like a man...

you instead tried to make your
poor teacher feel sorry for you.

You lied about us just to
save your scrawny neck.

Well, yeah.

Man, I was in big
trouble and I panicked.

Edward, whenever
I talk about you...

I tell people that my son
has a straight A average.

He's witty, he's clever...

and man, he's even better
looking than Denzel Washington.

You see, when I lie, I lie up.

I am very, very
proud of my family.

I put them on pedestals...

because, son, that's where
I think they deserve to be.

You're right, Dad. I'm sorry.

You know, son, I'm a cop...

and every day, I see families out
there who really do have problems.

That kind of tragedy is
nothing to make light of.

I know, Dad, and I'm
lucky to have a happy home.

Well, I am really glad
to hear you say that.

Because you're gonna be spending
a lot of time in your happy home.

Ouch.

So how's it going out there?

Well, I managed to explain why
the house is under three feet of trash.

And I think she understands why
you were going out to score dr*gs.

But she's having real trouble...

- with your mother buying men.
- Heh, heh.

From now on, I expect
each and every one of you...

to pitch in and help your mom
around the house. Is that understood?

Yeah.

Well, be happy about it.
- Yes, sir.

Well, thank you, everybody.

Okay, the strike is over.
Let's clean up this house.

Ah, ah. No, no, sweetheart.

Since I set the bad example,
I'm gonna set the good example.

I want you to take the
family out to dinner...

and when you get back, this
house is gonna be squeaky clean.

- Let's go to Bubba's Barbeque.
- No, I wanna go to Mighty Wienie.

No, let's go to Burger Palace.
The waiters have nice buns.

Mr. Winslow. We're
from Squeaky Cleaning.

Hey, right on
time. It's all yours.

Geez, Frank, we're gonna
have to call for back up.