07x15 - It's All Over Now

[bunniefuu]

Hey, Sarah, when you and Donna are alone at the radio station, do you ever pretend that instead of being just a regular intern, that you're, like, a super naughty intern?

Oh, and that Donna has to teach you a very naked lesson?

I'll give you 10 bucks and what's left of my hot dog to say yes.

No, sillies. There's way too much work to do at the station to daydream.

I mean, I have to take my top off and sort records, and then Donna and I have to French-kiss. It's exhausting.

This is why there should be more women in the workforce.

Um, please don't take this the wrong way,

but I want to have sex with you.

Sarah's only been interning for a week, but the deejays have already let her talk on the air, and they gave her a really cool nickname, Sizzling Sarah.

Oh, that's terrific. That's onomatopoeia.

That's good. It rhymes.

It is so fun.

Everyone at the station's been super nice, especially the older men.

Excuse me. I'll be right back.

This girl is great. This girl is great.

That girl is a bitch.

She's Sizzling Sarah in one week?

It took me six months of sorting records to become Hot Donna.

Six months.

Uh, no, actually, you've been Hot Donna since the fifth grade when you started cultivating that melon patch.

Don't tell her about the melon patch. Now she knows our secret code.

Sizzling Sarah.

I don't even know why they hired her. She's music illiterate.

When I asked her if she liked The Police, she was like, "No, I prefer firemen."

Donna, who cares if she knows about music?

The girl is freaking hot.

Yeah, Donna, what you've yet to realize is that life is a beauty contest.

I mean, you got your job because you're hot, and now a new hot girl is coming and taking your place.

It's survival of the juggiest.

No, I got my job because I know music.

Yeah, that's why your on-air nickname is "Music-knowing Donna."

Look, Donna, your problem is you've got too much going on.

I mean, the less you have going on, the less you have to worry about.

Look at me. I've got nothing going on and I've got nothing to worry about.

Except your future.

Eh.

How's it going?

Horrible, I want you back. Thank God, I want you back.

In fact, marry me. Oh, yes, Steven!

Do you, Jackie?

I do! Me, too!

Yeah, baby!

Jackie, I said, how's it going?

Fine.

Everything's fine.

You guys, while I was in the bathroom, I realized I totally forgot to wear a bra today.

I love you.

j& Hanging out j& Down the street j& The same old thing j& We did last week j& Not a thing to do j& But talk to you j& We're all all right j& We're all all right j&

Hello, Wisconsin!

Steven, I've noticed that every day you come home from the record store tired and irritable, and I just want to say, "Welcome to life."

So, what's new in the world of rock 'n' roll?

'Cause this cool cat wants the skinny on the bebop, maestro.

Uh, well, tomorrow we have Tom Jones coming in for a record signing at the store.

Tom Jones! I love him!

Oh, and the way he shakes his hips.

It just... It makes me feel all nervous and embarrassed.

Boy, that sounds like fun.

Fun for you, maybe. You're a middle-aged woman.

What?

Don't "what" me.

The average lifespan is 72, so if you're older than 36, which you are, then, by definition, you're middle-aged.

Discussion over.

Okay, when you're right, you're right.

Wow.

I win an argument every six years or so.

Is Steven here?

I'm only asking to make sure he's not in case he still has feelings for me.

Well, he's not here.

He went to a bar to forget how much he loves you.

Really?

Uh, no, he's at the car wash.

You guys wanna hear something sick? Ooh, yes. Please, hurry.

Mr. Randall, down at the radio station, wants me to host a live remote from Hyde's record store when Tom Jones is there.

And to promote it, they want to put me on a billboard wearing this.

That's just good radio.

Well, I'm not wearing it.

I should be valued for my voice and music knowledge, not my body, no matter how smoking it is.

There you go again with your

"women should be valued for their minds" gobbledygook.

Donna, women should be valued for their looks.

Men should be valued for their cars, and foreigners should be valued for their ability to sweep.

Hey, hey.

We also drive a mean taxi.

I'm not caving to their smutty demands.

I am an on-air personality. I am not a sex kitten.

I agree, Donna.

Making you wear that outfit is demeaning to women.

Well, thank you, Fez.

But, just to be sure, put it on and shake your ass.

Would you please quit giggling?

Sorry, man. I'm listening to George Carlin's Seven Dirty Words You Can't Say on Radio and Television.

Man, he just keeps saying them over and over again.

Potty mouth.

Okay, Tom Jones is booked and everything is set.

You know, I don't think there's anything more exciting than a promotional event gone right.

Then you need to get drunk and ride a mechanical bull.

You know, you're being more of a tool than usual.

Have you talked to Jackie?

No, Angie. What do I have to say to Jackie?

That you love her and miss her.

I don't love people.

I love Camaros, Zeppelin and french fries, in that order.

You guys, I just had this brilliant idea.

You know how every dirty word has a number?

Instead of cursing, you could just say that number.

Like I could say, "Hi, go three yourself."

Hey, Angie, when Tom Jones gets here, you're not gonna throw your underpants at him, are you?

Michael, you know I don't wear underwear.

Come on, man, you're my sister.

I just told her to say that to gross you out. Burn!

Yeah, you got me.

Besides, I happen to know that she does wear underwear.

Sometimes she lets me take them off for her. Boomerang burn!

I feel terrible.

I think it's the flu.

Okay, now is this the real flu or the Martini & Rossi Asti Spumante flu?

Now I'm gonna miss Tom Jones this afternoon, and I wanted his autograph so badly.

Red, I was thinking maybe... No.

You know, if you were sick and Joe DiMaggio was signing footballs, I'd get an autograph for you.

Mom, Joe DiMaggio played baseball.

That'd be like me saying G.I. Joe has a karate grip.

What a nerd I'd be.

Hey, Fez, I need your advice. You should show more leg.

I'm serious.

I still love Steven and I want him back. Everything reminds me of him.

Every time I walk past a pile of dirty laundry, I start crying.

Then you should go to him and tell him how you feel.

No, I cannot go up to Steven and pour my heart out to him if I'm not sure he feels the same way.

I couldn't take the rejection.

Oh, please, I've been rejected a million times.

And trust me, after the first 100 or so, they don't sting no more, baby.

I wouldn't even know what to say.

Okay, let's role-play.

Pretend I'm Hyde and say everything you want to say to him to me.

Really? Okay.

Steven, I love you and I want you back.

I never thought I would hear those words, my darling.

Ew!

I'm sorry, I got a little carried away.

I'll be serious this time, I promise.

Okay.

I love you and all I want is for us to be together.

Get off me, weirdo. I'm the weirdo?

You're the one saying, "I love you," smack! "I love you," smack!

You little tease.

So, you see, Mr. Randall, I don't think it's necessary for me to wear a bikini.

I mean, what is sexier than a little bit of mystery?

Well, according to my research, naked boobies.

All right, look, ratings are down, and I think this could really help.

Well, I'm not gonna strip for a radio advertisement.

It's demeaning. I'll do it.

You will?

Yeah, of course she'll do it. This whole billboard was her idea.

What?

Unlike some people, I care about this radio station.

Plus, I just love wearing a bikini.

When I put one on, I jiggle just like jelly.

Well, she jiggles just like two perfectly filled water balloons, but I'm afraid you'll never get to see them, or touch them, or make a motorboat sound with your mouth between them, because she is a lady!

Sarah, you knew that I would never do this.

You were just trying to make me look bad.

And it's working.

You're fired.

Wait, you're f*ring me because I won't strip?

No, no, you know what?

I'm a gentleman, and I normally don't use this kind of language.

But, Mr. Randall, you are one sixing, sevening monkey-fiver.

You think your one don't stink?

Well, three off, you threeing three. Come on.

Ladies, ladies, I realize Tom Jones is late, and I have an announcement to make.

Shut up!

Holy crap.

It's like a water buffalo convention.

I'm not waiting two hours for a lousy autograph.

Excuse me, excuse me. Excuse me. Sorry, watch your feet.

Excuse me, excuse me. Excuse me there, buddy.

Hey, no cutsies.

Oh, hell, I don't need Tom Jones.

I'll sign the damn album myself.

Excuse me.

Who pinched my behind?

Bonnie!

Your husband hasn't even been dead two months.

I am freaking pissed.

Sarah puts on a bikini, and whammo, she gets me fired?

That little bimbo set this whole thing up and I am freaking pissed!

Well, see what happens when you try to skate through life using your brain?

For the millionth time, people, it's all about the looks!

Well, I refuse to trade on my good looks to achieve success.

Eric Forman don't play that game.

Well, I'm not gonna let her get away with this.

I need to think of a way to get even.

All right, you need to do something brilliant, that's subtle but clever.

Hit her in the face with a Wiffle ball bat.

Um, I don't think that's exactly what I'm looking for.

Okay, well, then, you've obviously never been hit in the face with a Wiffle ball bat.

Wait a second.

Sarah's gonna be broadcasting live from the record store, right?

Yeah. Okay, then I got an awesome idea.

Well, if it's hitting her in the face with a Wiffle ball bat, you stole that from me.

Here it is, Kitty, a signed Tom Jones album.

Oh! Aw!

Oh, thank you.

Oh, I hope he wasn't upset I couldn't be there myself.

Did you tell him I had the flu?

Didn't come up.

Well, what did you talk about?

Fishing.

Tom Jones fishes?

Yeah, it's surprising, I know.

I'm so surprised that I'm gonna go upstairs and take a nap.

This is Sizzling Sarah at Grooves record store, coming at you live, without a bra.

And up next some music from a band.

That's great. Okay.

I was thinking now would be a good time to put a bikini on.

Fortunately, I keep a box of them in my car.

Come on.

Tom is two hours late.

These women are gonna rip this place apart.

We've gotta think of some way to distract them.

What do you want me to do, throw a ham at them?

All right, all right, you should throw me at them.

I'll give these ladies what they're not getting at home.

Okay, there's Hyde.

Go and tell him you want him back.

I can't.

I mean, if I knew he loved me, I'd be happy to put myself out there.

But I don't, and if he doesn't, I'll just feel so stupid.

Okay, just go to him and say, "Steven, I want to talk about us."

And if he wants to talk, then he wants you back.

But if he blows you off, then you tested the water, and the water...

Well, the water doesn't love you.

All right, here I go.

Hey, um, Steven, can we talk about us?

Us? Who has time to talk about us?

Oh, lady, you're not at home. Put your shoes back on.

He didn't even want to talk to me.

Am I so disgusting?

Apparently to him.

Eric, are you sure this is gonna work?

Donna, let's just say when we're done with Sizzling Sarah, her new nickname's gonna be "Crying, No-job, Street prost*tute Sarah."

Hi, Sarah.

Hi, I just wanted to thank you for getting me fired.

I realize now that my feminist ideals are just a bunch of hooey, and I should use my brains less and my body more.

Yeah, I don't know why women are given brains in the first place.

Anyway, Mr. Randall felt bad for me so he hired me back as an intern, and he wants you to play this after the commercial, track six.

You know, Donna, you and I are a lot alike.

Well, except I'm on the radio and you're not.

Steven, Tom Jones is stuck in a snowstorm. He's not coming.

These women will riot.

Yeah, when middle-aged women get mad, they get super pissed.

'Cause they got nothing to lose. They're almost dead.

Which is why we should have somebody else break the news.

Hey, Fez, you want to meet some ladies?

Yeah.

Okay, I've just been handed a hot, new record.

So here's George Carlin with The Seven Dirty Words You Can't Say on Television or Radio.

Huh.

It seems like I almost shouldn't play it.

Oh, well.

Eric, thank you so much. That was a great idea.

You're welcome. Now let's go home and five all night.

So, Steven, how was Tom Jones?

Who knows? He never even...

Wanted to leave.

You know, Tom loves his fans.

I was just telling Kitty how I had to chase down his limo to get her an autograph.

Mrs. Forman, it was fantastic.

You should have seen Red running after Tom's limo, screaming like a little girl.

"Tom! Tom!" All right, all right.

That's enough bragging.

Well, and that is why I am making this meatball hero for my meaty hero of a husband.

Hiya, Red.

You were smart not to stick around.

I waited five hours. Tom Jones never showed up.

Never showed up?

If Tom Jones never showed up, who signed this autograph?

I can't lie to you.

It was Julio Iglesias.

Those women at the record store flipped when they heard the seven dirty words, especially word number four.

They do not like word number four.

It was awesome, man. Sarah got fired.

The station manager got in trouble, and Donna got her job back.

I'm telling you, if I weren't unemployed and living with my mommy,

I'd be wickedly cool.

Well, if you'd have hit somebody in the face with a Wiffle ball bat, this would have been over hours ago.

Okay, not only did I get my job back, but I had conditions.

I told Mr. Randall I'd be fully clothed at all times, and he said okay.

I told him to stop demeaning women, and he said okay.

And I told him to respect me for my mind and my ideas and not my looks, and he said okay.

So do you want people to stop calling you Hot Donna?

No, that makes me feel pretty.

Donna, you whore, you got me fired.

Wait, you're the one who got me fired first.

Well, I am so mad, I'm gonna make out with Fez.

Well, if you're gonna make out with Fez, then so am I.

No, sleep. Damn you, sleep.