11x21 - Lez Be Friends

[bunniefuu]

Hey, pass me the chips.

Sure. Go long.

Three eighty-five. Hut, hut.

Face left.

Face left. One, two, three.
He goes for the Hail Mary.

Ugh.

Al? Al, are you all right?

I'm fine. I'm fine.

Ungh!

Come on, buddy.
The NFL draft is on.

Let's go, let's go.

TV ANNOUNCER: In the first
round, the San Francisco 49ers

select Jamal Sanders
from Texas A&M.

Oh, man, look at that.
That could've been me.

[CHUCKLING]

I guess we'll never know

'cause you only
played high school ball.

Hey, at least I was man
enough to suit up for it.

Hey, I suited up, and I
played at every game.

You were in the band.

Yeah. Yeah, that's right.

And more than
once, I played hurt.

You know, the glockenspiel
is a cruel mistress.

Al. Honey, you broke the...

The flat thing.

It's the dinner table, Peg.

You know, as in cooking dinner

and serving it to your family.

Well, in that case,

thanks for getting
rid of it, honey.

Man, what I wouldn't give
to play for the Chicago Bears.

I would sell my soul
to play for the Bears.

[DOORBELL RINGS]

Good afternoon.

I'm here to fix your television.

Nothing wrong
with my television.

[BOTH YELL]

You know, my wife
needs some fixing too.

[♪♪♪]

If you're a repairman,
where's your butt cr*ck?

My tail's covering it.

I'm Lucifer.

Peg, one of your relatives.

Peg?

Jefferson?

They can't hear
you. I've frozen them.

Hey, these are two of
the laziest people on Earth.

You want to impress
me? Make them get jobs.

I'm the devil, not a genie.

I still don't think he's
seeing my point. Uh...

Maybe this will help.

Oh, so you're the devil.

What do you want?

Your soul, Mr. Bundy.

Deal.

Gee, Tom Arnold
put up more of a fight.

Okay. So you can have my soul,

but I get to play for
the Chicago Bears

and take them to a Super Bowl.

Ah, before I go, I'd
better unfreeze them.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Go ahead.

[LAUGHING]

Oh, Jesus.

Ahh!

Is something burning?

Has Mom been ironing?

No, nothing as unusual as that.

I sold my soul to the devil.

Cool. For riches and diamonds?

Kelly, we're talking
about Dad's soul.

For a Canadian penny?

No, pumpkin.

Daddy's gonna be
the new star fullback

for the Chicago Bears.

Right. And I sold
my soul so I could be

a Sports Illustrated
swimsuit model.

You'd have to sell every
soul in China for that, Peg.

Guys, look. Daddy's on TV.

TV ANNOUNCER:
And in the first round

the Chicago Bears select,
from James K. Polk High School,

Al Bundy.

Hey, guys, I hope
you're not still mad at me

for making you
look bad at practice.

Okay. So you had
a few good days.

You're still old and flabby.
And you smell like BENGAY.

And because of you,
we all have jock itch.

Hey, look. Look, there's Daddy.

Oh! Everybody wave.

This is the last time
we'll see Al walking.

You are so lucky, Peggy.

You're finally going to
get handicap parking.

[♪♪♪]

[MEN GRUNTING]

Ooh!

[MEN CHEERING]

Get your Red Hots.

Devil dogs.

Devilled eggs. Devilled ham.

Yoo-hoo!

Smokey.

Yogi. Boo Boo.

What are you doing?

Trying to get the
Bears' attention.

No, no, no. No, I'm sorry.

Shoehorn Bundy will not endorse
any products he doesn't use.

No, it's not just your
deodorant, it's any deodorant.

Hello, PoliGrip? Yeah.
What's your best offer?

I said, "Show me the money."

You're not even
showing me the wallet.

[♪♪♪]

CROWD [CHANTING]: Bundy,
Bundy, Bundy. Bundy, Bundy, Bundy.

So, Al, it's the final moments

before the start
of the Super Bowl.

You've had a miraculous
Cinderella season.

The whole world is
wondering: How did you do it?

I sold my soul.

Dedication.

Well, to you young
people watching out there,

and, um, to you old people too,

anything is possible if
you put your soul into it.

Give 'em hell, Shoehorn.

Thanks, J.B.

Congratulations,
Mr. Bundy. You did it.

Thanks to you, Lu,
I'm realizing my dream.

I'm playing in the Super Bowl.

[WHISTLE BLOWS]

As I'm sure your
wife has said to you

many times before, Mr. Bundy,

not so fast. What?

I agreed to let you take
the Bears to the Super Bowl.

I didn't agree to
let you play in it.

But that's not fair.

Duh! I'm the devil!

Well, I'm playing,
and you can't stop me.

Well, go ahead. But you'll
be playing without my help.

I don't need your help.

I'm Al "Shoehorn" Bundy,
NFL Rookie of the Year

and spokesman
for Super PoliGrip,

now available in barbecue.

It's your funeral. Win
one for the Reaper.

[WHEEZING]

Hey, you okay, Bundy?

I'm fine.

[CONTINUES WHEEZING]

Okay, 36 blast on three.

Who's talking?
Kramer, is that you?

Speak up.

Okay. Everybody got
that? Ready? Break.

ALL: Break.

MAN: Set. Blue 48. Hut, hut.

CROWD: Ooh.

Gosh, what a bone-crushing hit.

Oh, but, you know,

you hate to see
something like that.

Hey, let's take a
look at the replay.

He's not moving.

Oh, my God.

He's either dead or having sex.

[♪♪♪]

Oh! That was a hell of a hit.

Ironic choice of words.

[AL YELPS]

What's happening?

We're in the hell-evator.

Going down.

But I was supposed
to go to Disneyland.

Jeez, it's hot as
hell down here.

Oh, yeah, right.

As a frequent liar,

you're eligible for
our express check-in.

And how long will you
be staying? Oh, forever.

[BOTH LAUGHING]

I hope you enjoy your
room here at Club Dead.

It overlooks the cesspool.

And here's your
complimentary Bloody Mary.

Oh.

Careful. I think some
bone got through the juicer.

Now for my favorite part,

your itinerary of
eternal torments.

For the next millennium
you'll be dining exclusively

on the most hideous
food known to man:

Weenie Tots.

Ooh, I love those.

Really.

Well, uh, what you don't know

is that a steady
diet of Weenie Tots

will cause you to spend
eternity in the bathroom.

Why do you think I love 'em?

All right, Mr. Bundy.

Since you find hell such a
picnic, uh, how about this?

For the rest of eternity,

you'll never see
your family again.

This is heaven.

Thank you.

Mmm. Could it be the letter P?

Hah! Hangman. I win.

[LAUGHS]

It's "French fries," you idiot.

You're not too
smart, are you, Nap?

Mr. Bundy, your permanent
accommodations are now ready.

Oh, great, great. I'm ready, Lu.

Oh, hey, uh, Lu.
What's down there?

Oh, ah, specialty
suites for IRS auditors,

meter maids, infomercial
producers, mimes.

Well, here we are. I
hope this is to your liking.

Oh, I'm sure it will be.

Hey!

[LAUGHS]

What are you guys
doing down here?

Well, we were taking
your body to the dump...

I mean, the cemetery.

When the brakes
went out on the Dodge.

Al Bundy, this
is all your fault.

I should be in heaven right
now having sex with young Elvis.

Then it wouldn't be heaven

for him anymore,
though, would it, Peg?

Are you happy now?

Mmm, no. Not until
you're as miserable

as you can possibly be.

How can it get any
more miserable than this?

Of course.

What happened?

Well, I was dancing
next to your grave,

I slipped on some confetti,

and the next thing
you know, here I am.

How'd you get here?

There was a conga line...

Lu, listen to me.
I'm begging you.

Can't you put me somewhere else?

Hey, I hear J. Edgar
Hoover has a queen-size bed.

Have a nice eternity.

[LAUGHING]

You go to...

here, you bastard.

Peg, I'm home. Ahh!

Al, shut the door.

You're letting
all the flames in.

MAN [OVER TV]:
Okay, home shoppers.

Call now to get in on this
lifetime supply of bonbons

for only five cents.

Damn hooves.

They're just a pain in the ass.

Tell me about it, Peg.

I don't know how much
more !sis can take.

It's hard being
gentle with claws.

Well, here they are
for the 7 millionth

nine hundred and sixteenth
thousand, forty-second time.

Come on, Al, you know the drill.

We can't leave until
you repeat the insult.

Okay. Look who's
crossed the road.

I'd say it was a chicken, but
it doesn't have any breasts,

just nuggets.

And it takes 10 of them
to make a decent meal.

Hey, is Kelly home?

I'm ready. I'm ready.

Whoa!

Hey, I still have a nice body.

God, I hate being a gargoyle.

If anybody needs me,
I'll be perched on the roof.

I can't take this anymore!

No, these plans for the
O.J. plaza are all wrong.

The F. Lee Bailey bar goes here,

and the Kato Kaelin
lounge goes over there.

Get it right.

Hey, Lu, I want my soul back.

"I want my soul back.
I want my soul back."

That's all I hear from
you and Tiger Woods.

Tiger Woods sold his soul?

Of course.

You don't think anybody's
really that good, do you?

Red Hots? Oh, thanks.

Hey. You like to play games.

Football, one on one, me
against you, winner take all.

Mmm. I don't know.

Oh. So the big, bad,
fire-spitting devil is all talk.

Not that I don't respect
a little fire spitting.

Look, Bundy, I've been
pretty easy on you up until now.

But if you want me
to turn up the heat,

you're going down.

I'm already down.

Let's rock.

I thought this was just
between you and me.

Allow me to introduce my team.

Erik the Red, Attila the Hun,

Genghis Khan, Brutus,

and my favorite, Goliath.

[GRUNTS]

These guys aren't
football players.

I know. They just hurt people.

That's not fair. I
don't have a team.

Oh, sure you do, Al.

Hey, Daddy. All right.

Like I said, I... I
don't have a team.

Okay, guys. Now,
this is sudden death.

No kidding.

All we have to do is
score the first touchdown

and we get to go home.

So give me the ball
and stay out of my way.

Can I get a "whoa, Bundy"?

ALL: Whoa, Bundy!

Ready. Hut one.

[ALL YELLING AND GRUNTING]

Yes.

Okay, a new plan.

Stay out of my way,
but stay in their way.

Can I get a "whoa, Bundy"?

ALL [SOFTLY]: Whoa, Bundy.

[GRUNTING]

[CACKLING]

All right. New plan.

They're expecting
me to get the ball.

Let's change all that.

Can I get a "whoa, Bundy"?

All right.

Hut one. Jefferson. Jefferson.

What? What? Hey,
hey. I don't want it.

[MEN SHOUTING]

Having some fun now, huh, Bundy?

Maybe when hell freezes
over, we can play hockey.

[CACKLES]

All right. This is
our last chance.

Jefferson, it's time
for the Hail Mary.

Hail Mary, full of grace,
the Lord is with thee.

Not the prayer. The
pass. Ready. Break.

ALL: Break.

Hold on.

Three eight five!
Three eight five! Six hut.

[♪♪♪]

Hey, I was about to catch that.

Hmm. Are you, uh,
sure you want to?

You see, Al, if
you catch the ball,

I send you all back
together as we agreed.

However, if you drop
the ball, heh, heh, heh,

I'll still send you
back, not with them,

but with them.

Come on, Al.
Yeah, you can do it.

[ALL CHEERING]

JEFFERSON: Come on, Al.

[♪♪♪]

Al? Al, come on.
Are you all right?

Get up. Come on.

I'm home. I'm...
I'm really home.

Well, of course you're home.

Where the hell
else would you be?

Exactly. I was in hell.

And you were there,
and you were there,

and you were there, and...

And, of course, you were there.

He's fine.

Nice going with
the dinner table, Al.

Yeah. Now what are
we not gonna eat on?

I can't believe you went to hell

and didn't even
bring me a souvenir.

Hey, Al, the NFL draft is on.

It must have been a dream.

There's no hell like home.

[♪♪♪]