02x07 - Harvard

[bunniefuu]

[crying]

[light piano music]

W-w-will there be anything else, my ladies?

♪ ♪

Ooh. [gasping]

[birds chirping]

[all laughing]

"W-w-w-will there be anything else, my lady?"

The word "will" doesn't have that many Ws.

Actually, it doesn't have any.

[giggles]

Well, men who don't think women are funny ought to watch Blanche deal with her stupid problems.

As much as I hate to admit it, it was a trifle amusing to see her cry.

How do people even get that fat?

I think Blanche is pregnant.

Well, at least someone around here is having sex.

I'm so amorous, I'm beginning to miss my required monthly penetration with Victor.

Poor Blanche.

She should've used a condom.

Wait. What?

A "con-dahm"?

Yes, you know, that thing you use so you can have sex for pleasure without getting pregnant.

I can have sex for pleasure?

Without spawning a child?

Like I'm some kind of man?

♪ hallelujah ♪

[gasps]

♪ hallelujah ♪

[gasping]

♪ hallelujah ♪

[gasps]

♪ hallelujah ♪

[screaming]

[fireworks whistling and crackling]

[inhales and gasps]

[gasping]

Garfield, I need a con-dahm.

[growls lightly]

♪ I want the money, I want the fame ♪
♪ I want the whole world to know my name ♪
♪ this is mine, I got to get it ♪
♪ I got to get it, got, got to get it ♪
♪ Another Period ♪

Listen, Einstein. I haven't all day.

I'm giving you 30 seconds.

[in German accent] Okay, well, um, I have some big ideas.

This is the formula for the gravitation of the planet, what Isaac Newton f--

Ah!

Ooh.

30 seconds are up.

Next time, you should probably open with a joke or something.

Yep.

No, no, please.

Shtop.

The truth is, I need your magnets, for my studies.

You have the most magnificent supply anywhere on the earth.

I want access.

The future of science depends on it!

Boy, I've seen the future.

I'll show you. [clears throat]

That is a big, fat penis?

No. It's a refrigerator.

Right now, only 100 people have these, but in the future, everyone will, and I want to sell every one of them their own magnet.

Please, come to my office!

I want to show you my designs!

[grunts]

[lively orchestral music]

[glass shattering, clattering]

Look. I got new foot bicycles.

See? [grunts]

[thud]

[humming]

[mysterious piano music]

♪ ♪

Whoa.

♪ ♪

I...

♪ ♪

[bright orchestral music]

♪ ♪

[giggles]

[eerie music]

♪ ♪

[foreboding music]

♪ ♪

♪ o Canada ♪
♪ our home and native land ♪
♪ true patriot lo-o-ove ♪
♪ with all our hearts command ♪

[gasps]

Ah!

Oh, oh, my.

Oh, my, Doctor, you're-- you're--

Canadian.

Canadian?

Yes.

Have you come here to blow up Bellacourt Manor?

That is a grave insult to my people.

We are a peaceful people.

I always suspected there was something vaguely foreign about that doctor, but Jewish and Canadian?

How many impediments must one man overcome?

Oh, please, Peepers, please don't tell anyone about this.

I-- I can't go back to French Canada.

Very well, sir.

I will do what I can to help you, but in the meantime, do not pour that syrup on the pancakes.

This is America.

I've heard all aboot it-- about it!

[gasps]

[shudders]

[lively electronic music]

H-A-R...

all: - VARD!

H-A-R...

all: - VARD!

H-A-R...

all: - VARD!

What does it spell?

To the best people on earth.

And to our newest VP, Frederick Bellacourt.

[all laughing]

Cheers.

Cheers.

You won't be surprised to know that I attended the hallowed halls of Harvard, which is, I believe, a college.

So, John-John, how are things over at the, uh-- what are you doing again?

Are you the governor of the Philippines?

Or are you America's greatest novelist?

I'm ashamed to say it, but I am recently unemployed.

[all gasp]

Dear God, are you homeless?

Oh, no, no, no, no.

I still have all seven.

Either way, I know what to do.

We shall set you up with a job writing for the "Simpson's Review."

Ah, "Simpson's," a Harvard degree virtually guarantees a position there.

Ah, you'd do that for me?

To Harvard!

all: To Harvard!

♪ I ♪
♪ want you here ♪
♪ with me ♪
♪ I ♪
♪ need you now ♪
♪ I ♪
♪ want you here ♪
♪ to stay ♪
♪ I need you ♪
♪ I need you right now ♪
♪ inside ♪
♪ and ♪
♪ out ♪
♪ ah ♪

Yes, I suppose one of these will do.

Garfield, I want to have sex for pleasure with one of those men.

Pardon?

Take me to the con-dahm store.

Um, would it be possible, um, for you to procure this abortive device on your own?

They won't sell one to me.

You have to have a penis in order to buy something to put on a penis.

It just makes sense.

Now come, and bring your penis.

Yes.

♪ I'm all about my money ♪
♪ so, homey, talk dollar ♪

[grunts]

Oh. [panting]

Blanche.

Okay.

You and I need to have a powwow.

Oh.

Now, there are two things I know for sure.

One is that you're disgusting.

Two is that you're a failure as a woman.

What I don't know is how this pregnancy happened.

Who is responsible for this womb of ill repute?

Was it Hamish? Garfield?

Syphilis Joe? Professor Plum?

Whom?

Now, I am a fair and kind man.

Whoever did this will get a slap on the wrist before you are beaten and thrown into the streets.

[grunts] Oh, it wasn't anyone I met at Bellacourt.

It was a man I met at the asylum.

We didn't plan it.

We just... fell in love.

Wretched. Go on.

Well, in my defense, most women never leave the asylum.

They just deteriorate mentally until they hang themselves or one of the orderlies gets sick of their incessant wailing and drowns them in the river.

[chortling] Sorry.

I could see how that could be traumatizing.

Just made me think of a joke.

[chortling]

Ugh, this is all my fault.

I committed Blanche to that insane asylum based on the word of that con artist Chair.

Now I put Blanche in this situation, and it is my duty to make it right.

Well, Einstein, if you don't believe in personal magnets, you lack vision.

Why don't you pack your chalkboard and get the f*ck out?

[mysterious piano music]

♪ ♪

Which one of you solved my equation?

Uh, that, uh, seems like something I would do.

It was me.

Stop trying to take credit for my work.

I probably did it.

People have been assuring me I'm good at things ever since I won my first regatta.

Are you talking about the white dust number picture?

That was me. I chalked it.

[all laughing]

I-- I did.

When I looked at the drawing, I saw that height, depth, and width were represented, but then I thought, "What about time?"

Since space has three dimensions and time is one-dimensional, I thought space-time must be a four-dimensional object, and as far as I can think, both space and time can be divided without limit in size or duration.

Und therefore...

Space-time does not evolve.

It simply... exists.

[whispers] Exists.

Yes.

[both laugh]

[tender piano music]

Well, no one likes a show-off.

I'm sorry, fellas. I'll take care of this.

Stop trying to humiliate me!

It's humiliating!

[sad music]

I'm so sorry. I--

Sorry.

You're a slut!

What are you doing?

You idiots!

Oh-ho-ho, we're idiots, are we?

Where did we go to school?

H-A-R...

all: - VARD!

Go, Garfield. Just go.

Go. Go.

[chuckles]

Yes.

Well, what do I want today?

Whatever you need, ask Duane Reade.

Well, I would love a box of toothache powder.

Mm-hmm.

Best I got.

Yes, and some of the, um, stop being gay pills.

No, I'm stocked up on those.

Just, um, some toilet tissues.

Don't mind if I do. [chuckles]

For doo-doo.

[giggles]

Where is my con-dahm?

I know. I'm a failure.

I couldn't do it.

Ugh. I'll do it myself.

Yes?

Hi.

I'd like to purchase a con-dahm.

[grunts] Yes. Shh. Shh.

Cops could hear you. Are you crazy?

Crazy horny. [chuckles]

Uh, we don't sell rubber skins here, certainly not to a woman, of all people.

[gasps] Well, then, how am I supposed to have sex for pleasure?

Why don't you ask the other gals on the corner of Unwed Road and Whore Boulevard?

I'm a whore because I want to have sex?

Don't you want to have sex?

Of course I want to have sex.

I love sex. It feels so good on my penis.

So unless you'd like to go around back and get bent over a pallet of Gold Medal flour or get arrested, I suggest you leave.

Bent over?

I don't even like that position.

I'm more of a "lay there and take it" kind of gal.

Oh.

♪ I told the bitch that I lean like a cholo ♪

Now, I know how I came to this theory, but how did you think of it?

Und so quickly?

Well...

I suppose that depends on where you think thoughts come from.

Ach, du lieber. Ja.

Is an idea ever truly ours?

Or does it come from some place inside the brain that we can only sometimes access yet never truly define?

Exactly. So I think the thoughts that I think are thoughts that were already thoughts just waiting to be thought.

But until they're ready to be thought, they remain unthought thoughts, but as soon as the unthought thoughts are thought, they become thought thoughts, but the thought thoughts that were previously unthought thoughts are preexisting thoughts and therefore not our thoughts to claim.

Although, I do think it's nice to think that we could think of unthought thoughts and make them thought thoughts just by thinking of them.

Wait. What about time?

Uh, it's relative, but not the kind you sleep with.

Psst, condom girl.

Come here.

Come here.

[gasps]

Is this a mugging? If so, I haven't any money.

[laughing]

I'm sorry. That sounded so ridiculous coming out of my mouth because I literally have millions of dollars.

I just don't have any money on me.

It's all in real estate.

Oh, but if you want to mug someone, why don't you mug him?

No.

I'm not trying to mug you.

It's me, Eunice.

[dramatic musical flourish]

[screaming]

Look, I know where you can get a con-dahm.

It's 42 Back Alley Lane right behind the coat hanger factory.

Tell 'em Eunice sent you. You get a 10% discount.

[tense music]

Uh, hi.

I-I'm looking for Abortion Deb.

Uh, well, first of all, I much prefer the name Healthcare Deb.

It's much more accurate to what I actually do.

Abortion really is only 3% of the medical procedures that I--

I'm not interested in your origin story.

I just wanted to start having sex for pleasure.

I'd like to purchase a con-dahm.

Oh, all right.

[sprightly orchestral music]

Garfield, pay the abortionist.

[squeals]

[dramatic hip-hop music]

Beatrice, you must come to Zurich with me.

If we put our brains together, we can think the unthought thoughts that no one's ever dreamed of thinking.

What would we do there?

We would change the world, of course.

I was planning to do it by myself, but it would be much faster and better with you.

With me?

Ja, you.

Me, Beatrice?

You, Beatrice.

How would I eat?

We have restaurants.

When do you sleep over there?

At nighttime.

How does time work?

The same way.

How do I take chowder baths?

We go up to Norway for that.

But what about cheese time?

We have great cheese in Switzerland.

Have you never heard of swiss cheese?

The one that the mice like?

Mm-mm.

It's time for you to stop pretending to be regular und... come und be great.

I have to think about it.

Beatrice!

The other way.

Oh, uh...

B-Beatrice! Ah.

[lively orchestral and electronic music]

Here she is.

Oh, Virgil.

[gasps]

Oh, I can't believe I'm finally in your arms again.

I've missed you so.

You know, I wrote you letter after letter after letter after letter.

Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I've been really busy.

Yeah, well... me too.

Why don't we sit down?

Oh.

[clears throat] Now... Virgil, um, why don't you explain to Blanche what you were telling me?

[chuckling]

Okay.

I had my way with you, and you had no say in the matter.

Oh, but-- but we made love.

[chuckles] I made love on top of you.

Oh, grapes.

Oh, yes.

Where does that leave us?

Well... I'm probably not gonna take care of your tot.

I probably won't even remember your name.

[whispers] Blanche.

Can I have some of those pastries?

Those are for the family.

I don't even know why I asked.

Usually I just take.

Also, I'd lose the hat.

When I r*ped you, you weren't wearing a hat.

Now you're wearing a hat, it's like I wouldn't even r*pe you.

[upbeat orchestral and electronic music]

♪ ♪

[martial drum music]

[laughter]

Hello, boys.

I would like to inform you all that I am in possession of a con-dahm, and I would like to have sex with one of you for pleasure, not for children.

Sorry, Lillian. [clicks tongue]

Missed your window.

Besides, this is not a good time.

We're watching slides of our freshman year Harvard-Yale game.

Oh, God, I hope we win.

Get!

[bright orchestral music]

Ah!

all: Touchdown!

Yeah!

Ha-ha-ha!

Hi.

Would you like to have sex for pleasure?

I'm engaged to a Rockefeller.

all: Touchdown!

[laughing]

Sex for pleasure?

I am also engaged to a Rockefeller.

Oh!

[all exclaiming]

Hi. Let's have sex.

Oh, uh, no, thank you.

What do you mean, no, thank you?

Here's the thing.

You're not really my type.

Uh, I mean, I could maybe see you as a cool, older friend or something, but as a Harvard man, I tend to go for younger, hotter women.

Oh!

[all exclaiming]

No.

♪ ♪

[grunts]

[all cheering and laughing]

Yes!

[energetic techno music]

Wait! Stop schlittschuhlaufen away!

Beatrice.

Most people live their entire lives und they never get this moment.

You cannot allow this to happen to a mind like yours.

[tender orchestral music]

♪ ♪

Ah, Beatrice.

Is the mustard and beans bell broken?

We're hungry in there.

Why are you still talking to this unkempt foreigner?

Because she is saying she is leaving with me.

Leaving?

With me?

With Albert Einstein.

You can't leave me.

Sure, I don't live here, and we hardly ever see each other, and I'm married to another woman, but you can't leave me.

I need you, Beatrice.

[light instrumental music]

Did you know that sometimes dogs can be horses but horses can never be dogs?

[laughs]

What is this you're saying?

I don't know. I never know.

I like marshmallows.

[chuckling] I also enjoy a good 'mallow.

I see.

You are pretending to be stupid so that you can stay with this idiot.

Hey, I went to Harvard.

Well... then I guess it's auf Wiedersehen, meine Liebchen.

Sauerkraut to you too.

[melancholy music]

[vase shatters]

♪ ♪

[energetic techno music]

♪ ♪

Well, my matchmaking was a bit of a bust, but I have another idea of who can wed Blanche.

[knocks]

Dr. Goldberg.

Yes.

I think I may have solved your little immigration problem.

You can stay in this country by marrying Blanche the servant.

Now, which one is Blanche? Is that the black girl?

Dr. Goldberg, I'm surprised at you.

It's 1903.

The correct term is n*gg*r.

I'll never make that mistake twice.

Pie-faced gal, woebegone eyes, cloud of desperation hovering above her, destroyed body, nine months pregnant.

Yes, yes, I call her Shattered Sally in my head.

You know what?

Of course I'll marry her.

You've been a wonderful friend to me, Mr. Peepers, a wonderful friend indeed, and I'm "sore-ry" I ever doubted you.

Oh, no, no, sir.

In this country, we say "sorry."

If you're going to be an American, act like an American; sh**t someone, do something.

Yes, steal some land from the Indians.

[dramatic musical flourish]

Ha-ha-ha!

[gasping]

How dare you.

I'm "sore-ry." I'm "sore-ry."

I'm sorry.

I'm "sore-ry." I'm "sore-ry."

Garfield.

Remove this from my sight.

I shall dispose of it at once.

Oh, unless you'd like to use it with me.

What?

Please, Ms. Lillian, use your condom with me.

Have nude relations with me.

You're ever so arousing.

Garfield, this is completely inappropriate.

Well, I can't control myself.

Garfield, I will never have sex with you.

Never!

You're a servant, and I'm a queen.

Please?

I can't blame you for trying, but the answer is no.

[scoffs]

[gentle instrumental music]

Nothing makes me feel more like myself than crushing someone's sex dreams.

A good servant always knows what his master needs.

And McConnell, who's the cornerback, who's a big man, he has the pigskin in his hand, and he can see Gus Davis, who's the tight end down the line.

I know. I couldn't believe it either when I first saw or heard about it.

But he throws it, and the pigskin sails through the air--

I'm sorry.

There's something I have to do.

[tender instrumental music]

♪ ♪

[farting and peeing]