04x06 - Grumpy Old Genie

[bunniefuu]

You make man?

No.

Woman.

Woman.

Why don't people understand?

Alive!

Alive!

Do you think one of those guys will ask us
to dance?

Those guys?

Sure.

They're only the coolest clique in school.

Lyle Foster, Randy Nelson, Gary Wallace.

So the guy looks back and says,
Okay, Zard, you're coming with me!

You know, Wallace, we sure are lucky to
have you as part of our popular clique.

You are too cool.

What can I say?

It takes cool to no cool.

And you the man.

No, no, no.

You the man.

Yes, I the man!

So, shall we take the cheerleaders to an
exclusive little night spot where my

sizzling popularity will get us past the
old velvet ropes?

You are on fire.

Juh-ha!

No, really, man.

Your head.

It's on fire.

Ah, crap.

Not again.

Damn it.

Every time it starts to get good,
the stupid thing glitches on me.

You gotta stop living out with that dumb
king of the jocks fantasy.

Why?

Gary, it's a reality-based program.

Any implausible scenario shorts out the
superconductors.

Too much BS overloads the machine.

Besides, I thought we
agreed we were never gonna

hang out with those
shallow, immature jerks.

That's before I realized it was actually
possible.

What?

By using Lisa's magic?

Nope.

I can get into the cool club.

No magic required.

You gonna use your sparkling personality?

Uh-uh.

Lisa's c*ck dress.

I hope you're planning the stuff.

I asked Lisa to be my date for the
homecoming dance.

When those guys see
me with Lisa, they're gonna

be begging for me
to join their little club.

You can't spend your life worrying about
what those guys think of you.

Yeah, you're right.

I'm gonna have to suck up to some new guys
in college.

I can't see Lisa going for something this
lame.

Ha!

She already said yes.

But hey, I'll let my prom date speak for
herself.

Hi, guys.

What the?

I can't decide on a dress for the
homecoming dance.

Does vinyl make me look trampy?

I'll go for the lycra.

I want something that'll really show off
my curbs for Gary.

Who are you?

What do you mean?

I'm Lisa, you big silly.

Lisa?

Well, duh.

Either you got the worst
case of bed face I've ever seen,

or there's something seriously
funky with your image file.

I don't follow.

Oh, on second thought, maybe I'll just
wear a truss.

What happened to my bungos?

I'm wondering that myself.

Lisa, apparently your looks have been
altered.

Someone stole your image files and
replaced them with a picture of Abe Vigoda.

I've been hacked.

Check the Barney Miller website.

I did.

No activity.

What are you saying?

That I have to go to the homecoming dance
with TV's beloved fish?

I'm not fish.

I'm Lisa.

I just look like an old guy.

But inside I'm all woman.

Uh, maybe you can just zap yourself back
to normal.

Stupid magic.

What do I do now?

I can't stay like this.

Don't worry, Elise.

We're all over this.

By Friday night, you'll be back to your
super babe self, guaranteed.

Wait!

The homecoming dance is this Friday?

I don't have a date.

Can we focus here, please?

How are we gonna fix her?

We find the hacker.

That thing is gonna find Lisa's image
files?

It's a cyber bloodhound.

It'll go into the internet and sniff out
my distinctive scent.

Okay, that number represents all computers
on the internet.

As the number counts
down, the dog is eliminating

all computers that
aren't the hackers.

So, when he stops, we'll have our man.

So Lisa's files could be anywhere in the
world?

She could be in the hands of a cyber
t*rror1st hell bent on world domination.

That's a bit of all right.

This is a disaster.

We need to get Lisa back.

We have Lisa.

She's still the same sweet, lovable genie
we've always known.

Oh, right.

I'll keep that in mind when my homecoming
date loses his dentures in the punch bowl.

I need to get another date.

Let's get out of here
fast before she... Hi, guys.

Going to the beach?

Thinking about it.

Great.

Let me hop into my bathing suit.

Oops.

Well, there's that thong.

Yup.

Wrong body.

Better.

You know, come to think of it,
it's not a great beach day.

Yeah.

Let's stay in.

You guys don't want to be seen with me,
do you?

Suddenly, I'm not young and sexy enough to
be your friend.

No.

You're still young and sexy... inside.

It's just that, judging by the evidence,
sexy tends to work better... outside.

So the whole basis for our genie-creator
relationship was my looks?

No.

No.

Not at all.

There was also the magic.

And her friendship.

Friendship.

Right.

You've been a butt.

I'm sorry, guys.

Was I being bitchy?

No.

You've had a tough morning.

So we're hitting the beach?

You still want to go?

Good.

We'll all go.

Together.

Cool.

Ah, but before we hit the sun,
who would like to do my back?

Good.

I'll get us a table.

They love me here.

How you doing, folks?

Ah, hi, Kyle.

Looking good.

Yeah, thanks, I guess.

Hey, Mark.

Huh?

Been working out?

There's a table.

Snag it, Lise.

We'll catch up with you.

My prayers have been answered.

Check it out.

Yeah, so?

Courtney Boyle.

Head cheerleader for Santo Domingo High.

I'll ask her to the homecoming dance.

Hey, good idea.

And then after the dance, you can whisk
her away in your private mini-sub to your

Fortress of Solitude in the lost city of
Atlantis.

No, seriously.

I've got a shot here.

She invited me to a party once.

It was her sixth birthday.

Her dad caught you peeing in the pool.

So every kid pees in the pool.

Not from the diving board.

Eh.

Hi.

Remember me, Gary Wallace?

Not really, no.

Good.

Then this might work.

Would you like to be my date to the Farber
homecoming dance this Friday night?

You go to Farber?

Yep.

Good old Farber High.

Home of the brawling Buccaneers.

Three times state football champions.

I hate Farber.

It's a hellhole.

But I might be your date.

If you do me a tiny favor.

Okay.

Anything at all.

Did you order?

Not yet.

I haven't been able to get a waiter's
attention.

They must be really busy.

You know, I'm beginning to think they
won't wait on me because I'm old.

Oh.

Like if you were young and good-looking,
you'd get waited on faster?

Menu.

Cutie.

Okay, maybe you're right.

Why don't we just get out of here?

I'm not going anywhere until I get a
little service and a little respect.

It's a matter of principle.

Okay.

Well, good luck.

I'm gonna go home and see if our
bloodhound has sniffed out your hacker.

Thanks for coming.

Okay, let's make sure we've got this
straight.

I'll go to the dance with you if you spray
paint Santa Domingo rules in the Farber

Halls, you decapitate the
statue of your school mascot,

and you explode this
stink b*mb at the pep rally.

Pick you up at eight?

You know, if you're not gonna order,
we can use the table.

I would like to order.

I've been trying to order.

Can I get a mochaccino to go, please?

Sure thing.

Mm-hmm.

Police!

Great news, I'm letting you off the hook
for the dance Friday night.

What do you mean, off the hook?

I wanna go.

Yeah, but the music will be loud,
it'll run late, you'll get tired,

you wanna rest your feet.

I'm not an old man.

I'm a beautiful, voluptuous woman in the
prime of her life.

So I'm having a bad image file day.

That doesn't mean we can still have fun at
the dance.

You know, the sound of a May-December
friendship thing sounds touching.

But I've gotta show up with Babbage if I
wanna get in with the cool guys.

But I am Babbage.

I know that and you know that,
but no one at the dance will.

You see, dating beautiful women gains you
respect with your peers.

Dating old guys?

Not so much.

I don't wanna go as your date.

I wanna go as your friend.

I don't think so, Lise.

I'm taking court.

Oh man, dumped by Gary Wallace.

I don't wanna live in a world where youth
and beauty, our precious commodities and

age and wisdom, are tossed aside like,
like yesterday's fish.

So, I'll change it.

Any luck yet?

Uh, it's looking real good, Lise.

We're down to a few hundred possible
hackers.

And Europe.

Well, no problem.

Take your time.

Have you been zapping stuff?

Uh, nothing big.

Miami Beach 33101.

This Monday, things heat up when Bert's
passion for Kelly finally boils over.

Hey man, did you sleep with Kelly?

I wanted to.

Bad.

But then my dad caught us in the pool
house and pulled a g*n on me.

What did you do?

I cut him.

Well, that's a paper.

The sun's hot.

The days are long.

Friends are wild.

And your mouth waters for the taste
that'll capture the occasion.

The taste that's cold.

The taste that's wet.

The taste that's schmaltz.

Schmaltz and schmaltz light.

As sexy as it gets.

Schmaltz Brewing Company, Milwaukee,
Wisconsin.

That beer looks good.

You want to hear about hot flaming
bursitis?

Call me.

Don't wait.

It's really acting up today.

Call now.

$2.99 a minute.

Adults only.

Hotline.

You look great, Courtney.

I know I had to bribe you to get you here.

But I really think you're gonna have a
good time.

A little dancing.

A little romancing.

Then maybe later we can take a stroll into
the bleachers of love.

I brought my pepper spray.

The bleachers are overrated.

All I need is a good entrance.

When I walk into that dance with you on my
arm, the entire party will stop.

Yeah, like it did when you peed in my
pool.

You do remember me.

This is pretty.

Nice date, Wallace.

Wow.

I never knew Farber had such hot gazers.

Lisa?

What have you done?

Gotcha, hacker.

Trevor Hopkins, 30 Cleveland Square,
London, England, SW4...

England?

I gotta go to England?

Oh, wait a sec.

Lisa left instructions.

Emergency transportation program.

To initiate intercontinental travel,
enter destination coordinates.

Okay.

Time and departure.

Headphones.

Yes.

Smoking?

No.

And hit enter.

Huh?

What have I done?

Clarence here was our mailman since before
I was born.

You should see the stamp collection he
has.

Fought in the big one, WW2.

Yep, seven-time state bocce ball champion.

Nobody's as cool as Clarence.

I feel like such a frog.

Whoa.

Major Gizich, 10 o'clock.

Hello.

I see a game of Chinese checkers in my
future.

Well, you promised me a ride to the
pharmacy.

They're all the same.

Just looking for a trophy geezer.

This is getting too weird.

Hello, love.

My name's Beryl.

And I'm your special computer friend.

Let's play, shall we?

Show us your n*gg*r*s, then.

Who's a naughty boy?

I am, Beryl.

I certainly hope no one's watching me be
naughty.

Trevor Hopkins, I've come for my computer
girl.

Not my Beryl.

You can't take her.

I'm a satin lonely orphan and she's my
only friend.

Trevor, you fancy a look at me bum?

Huh?

That could have been my date.

What am I saying?

We need to talk.

I'm kind of busy right now.

Back off, Wallace.

He's with me.

This guy bothering you?

You're with him?

Maybe.

Hey, you had your chance.

I'm thirsty.

Who wants to get me a glass of prune
juice?

I'll get it.

That's what I get it.

What kind of twisted hoodoo have you been
up to?

What's the matter, Gary?

You got what you wanted.

You got your date with a beautiful girl.

Very funny, Lise.

You changed the rules on me.

Yeah, but you dumped me.

So?

I was devastated.

I felt like I wasn't pretty anymore.

Of course you're still pretty.

I just couldn't see it.

What do you say we spend the rest of the
party together?

You only want to be with me because I'm
your ticket to popularity.

Oh, you're so shallow.

Me?

What about you?

You're so desperate to be pretty,
you brainwashed the whole world.

I never thought of it that way.

Funny.

All this time, I thought I was teaching
you a lesson.

I'm sorry.

Me too.

I wish I could make it up to you.

You can.

Get rid of that Lyle kid.

He keeps asking me to whittle.

It's waltz time.

Octogenarian's choice.

Dance?

I'd be loved to.

Who will eat?

Sorry to do this, Trevor, but I'm
uploading this image back to my computer.

But who will be my special computer friend
then?

What do you need a computer friend for?

You should get out of this room and make
some real friends.

But I don't know how.

It's easy.

You just find some kids and you play with
them.

But I don't like kids.

They're covered with germs and I don't
like playing.

It's too strenuous.

Fine.

What do you like, Trevor?

I like blood pudding and computers.

I'll leave you a copy of Doom.

Smashing.

What do you know?

I got my image file back.

Hey, Wallace.

Nice date.

Look at how smooth and tight her skin is.

Nothing saves.

I don't care how ugly they think you are.

I want to be with you.

You do?

Funny, isn't it?

Looks just aren't that important to me
anymore.

Dancing with me won't get you in with the
popular kids.

Call me crazy.

But I'd rather dance with you than some
old guy any day of the week.

You're so sweet.

Then this flying man, he crashed through
my ceiling.

And he took my friend, Beryl.

And then he got back into his flying chair
and shot up into the sky.

You believe me.

Don't you?

Beryl, Beryl, Beryl.

That's all I ever hear.

Well, I'm your special friend now,
so shut up.

Hey, did I ever tell you about the time
that Hal Linden gave me a wedgie?

All right, guys.

Let's go.

Here we go.

It's my creation...
Where do I know?

People understand my independence.