04x08 - Child's Play

[bunniefuu]

Bubba, here. Thanks.

Phew!

There, now. Admit it.

Aren't you glad I
made y'all go to church?

Ms. Harper, I thought
I was gonna die.

For a church, that place
was hotter than Hades.

Why don't they use
some of that money

they're always collectin' and
get some air conditioning?

That money goes to our
sister mission in New Guinea.

I bet the sisters
have air conditioning.

Is that all you heathens can
talk about, how hot it was?

We could talk about
how long the sermon was.

- And boring.
- Yeah.

I've never been
so uncomfortable.

I'd be uncomfortable,
too, dressed in that get-up.

Just what is wrong
with my attire?

I've always found
this outfit very suitable

for religious occasions.

That's 'cause you got
to pray to God it stays up.

I don't know, Aunt
Naomi. She may be right.

People sure were starin' at us.

They were starin'
at you, lug nut.

Me? What did I do?

You took five
minutes makin' change

out of the collection plate!

I didn't want to
give a whole dollar.

Shame on you, Bubba. You
embarrassed the whole family.

Just how the hell
would you know?

You were plugged
in to that radio

listenin' to some
stupid ball game.

Well, nobody noticed.

They probably thought
it was a hearin' aid.

Oh, yeah, right, Vinton.

People with hearin'
aids always jump up

in the middle of the sermon
and yell, "Hot damn! Touchdown!"

So, I got a little carried away.

Can't a guy enjoy himself?

Good Lord, Vinton!

You're not supposed
to enjoy yourself!

It's church!

Knock, knock!

Thelma, I just had to stop by
to say how it warmed my heart

to see your family
all together in church.

Are you out of your mind?
They were barbarians.

Nobody would've noticed

if you hadn't kept
hittin' us with your purse.

I don't think I can ever face
Reverend Meechum again.

Oh, Thelma, the important thing

is that you were in
church all together

sharin' the love and compassion.

Hasn't Roselle put on weight?

That woman took two
helpin's of communion.

And how about
that wild little brat

who kept runnin' up
and down the aisles?

The one who was throwin'
paper airplanes at the choir?

Yeah. He was worse than we were.

For your information,
that little hellion

is Reverend Meechum's
grandson, Eugene.

- No!
- Yes!

They're keepin' him
for the whole summer.

Did you see the way
he carved his initials

in the back of that pew?

And Alberta Meechum
just sat there smilin'

like butter wouldn't melt.

Somebody ought to
say somethin' to her.

You're the president of
the Church Ladies' League.

Maybe you should.

Maybe I will. There's
some people in that church

that need taken down a peg.
Especially that snooty old...

Alberta!

Reverend Meechum!

Won't you come in?

Look, everybody.
It's the Meechums.

Oh, the Meechums. We
were just talkin' about you.

Yeah. Mama, mostly.

Can I get y'all
somethin' cool to drink?

No, thank you, Thelma.
We can only stay a minute.

We just stopped by to
ask you a small favor.

You just name it, reverend.

Today is the day
we go to the hospital

to visit the shut-ins...

Say no more. I'll get my purse.

We would never ask
you to leave your family

on a Sunday afternoon.

No problem.

I already made a whole pot of
beef stew, they can just heat it up

My whole afternoon is free.

Good! Then you will be able

to look after little
Eugene while we're gone.

Little Eugene?

Yeah, they won't
allow him in the hospital

since he rode his skateboard
through intensive care.

It'd be so nice for Eugene
to spend some time

with a lovely family like yours.

- Gee, I don't know...
- Thank you so much.

He won't be any trouble at all.

Eugene!

Stop scrapin' my keys
along Mrs. Harper's nice car

and come in here.

No trouble at all, huh?

Yeah, what do you want?

Eugene, this is the
lovely Harper family.

Lovely?

Did you see the way these
g*ons acted in church?

Eugene, is that any
way to say thank you?

You are spending the
afternoon with the Harpers.

Eww! I'd rather have
all my guts cut out

and fed to the crows.

Well, whatever your
little heart desires.

What is that junk?

This is my delicious
Sunday stew.

Papa always takes me
to Burger Boy on Sunday.

Well, this Sunday you're
gonna be havin' stew.

Have you always been fat,
or is it just since you got old?

What the hell kind
of a question is that?

Cussin' on the Sabbath...

I'm tellin' Papa,
I'm tellin' Papa!

Oh, Papa doesn't mind!

Papa says when you're
as old and fat as I am

you can say anything
you damn well please.

Well, lunch is ready. Where
are Vinton and Bubba?

Last time I saw them

they were playin'
hide-and-seek with little Eugene.

Oh, they just got tired
of playin' after a while.

Say, that sure
is a pretty dress.

Why, thank you.

Aren't you the
perfect gentleman?

Ow!

You just keep your grubby
little hands to yourself!

You do that again,
Eugene, I'm gonna tell papa.

Oh, honey...

I'm sorry, baby.

Where's Eugene?!

What have you two
g*ons been doin'

in your Sunday clothes?

Breakin' out of the garage.

We were hidin' from
him and he locked us in.

He knew we were hiding
there. He cheated. He peeked.

- Did not.
- Did too.

- Did too.
- Unh-unh.

Will you two knock it off?!

Dinner is ready. Now,
could we please sit down

and enjoy this
lovely meal in peace?

Okay. Let's dig in. I'm starved.

Oh, boy. Mama's stew.

Hey, don't you people say grace?

Oh, uh, yes, of course.

What were we thinkin'?

Dear, Lord, we thank
thee for our many blessings.

- For the roof over our...
- Hold it.

Papa says you have
to close your eyes

or it doesn't count.

For the roof over our heads,
for the food on our table

for our wonderful family,
and for little Eugene.

Forgive me, if I forgot anything

but I think the stew's
gettin' cold. Amen.

Amen.

You are in luck
today, little Eugene.

This is Ms. Harper's
prize-winnin' homemade stew.

This stuff is great.

Yep. Next to football

Mama's stew is what
Sunday is all about.

- Mmm!
- Oh!

Well, what the...

Eugene?

I didn't put anything
in that stew.

I'll bet this hot
sauce just got up

and walked in here by itself.

I hope you are happy.
You have ruined our dinner.

Does this mean we
get to go to Burger Boy?

You just forget
about Burger Boy.

You've got a whole
pot of stew to eat.

Eugene, you're
awful quiet over there.

How's that coloring comin'?

Great. This is the
best picture I ever drew.

Oh, yeah?

Let me have a gander here.

Oh, looky here.

It's a whole farm scene,
pastures and everything.

Acres and acres.

Say, where'd you find a
piece of paper this big?

Mama says there's no
piece of paper big enough

for all of my talent.

What? This is my
good tablecloth!

Big deal. I'm an artist.

See?

Why, you little twerp!
Do you know what we do

to smart aleck
artists around here?

We tar and feather 'em.

You can't do that
to me. I'm only a kid.

That means we use less tar.

Come back here,
you pint-sized Picasso!

Open up!

Eugene, if I have to
kick this door down, I will!

Thelma, children do
not respond to threats.

I can't hit him when
he's behind that door!

You have to use
child psychology.

Appeal to his little
thinkin' process.

- Allow me.
- Be my guest.

Gee, Thelma, it's too
bad Eugene is not here.

I have a present for him.

I guess I'll just
have to send it

to the poor boys in China.

Where's my present?

Here it is.

This is called
a ball on a stick.

Clever name.

It stimulates
hand-eye coordination

and is good for countless
hours of entertainment.

Aww, this cheap thing broke.

I hope you kept your receipt.

Gee, them countless
hours just flew by.

You broke it.

This was hand-painted in Sweden.

This little vandal
maliciously destroyed

a hand-crafted,
imported ball on a stick.

Why not go all the way, Eugene?

Why not break it in half?!

Then it just might
put out your eye!

I think it's time you go home.

Eugene, you stay put. Iola...

There, now, you feelin' better?

Oh, Thelma, this toy had the
child guidance seal of approval.

Just put the ball on a
stick out of your mind.

Thank the Lord, here's Alberta.

Yoo-hoo! Thelma!

This nightmare's
about to come to an end.

Hello, girls. Where
is little Eugene?

He's inside playin'.

That's my little angel.

Wouldn't you love to
have one just like him?

If I wanted one like
him, I'd get a pit bull.

Iola's just a little bit upset

because Eugene
is leavin' so soon.

We all are. Eugene, Mama's here!

I'm afraid there's
been a little accident.

An accident?

The reverend was kneeling
down to pray for old Mrs. Willits

when he brushed
against the forward control

of her motorized wheelchair
and she ran him down.

- Oh, no.
- Yes.

They think his leg's broken.
They won't know for sure

till they get an x-ray
without spokes in it.

Bless his heart! I
guess you and Eugene

want to rush right back
to be with him. Eugene!

Thelma, they're
keeping Lloyd overnight

and he wants me with him.

Eugene will have to stay here.

What?

Here is his little
overnight bag.

I have got to run, but
you tell little Eugene

that his Mama just
loves him to death.

Love him to death.

That's one I haven't thought of.

Somebody's got to
sleep on the couch.

I'm not givin' my room
up to baby Rambo!

And he's not sleepin'
in our basement, either.

We're talkin' about a
growin' young boy, here.

He needs a bed to sleep in.

Let him sleep in yours.

He'll be fine on the couch.

Hey... what are you doin'
with my shave cream?

Did you know there's
enough foam in here

to fill a sink, a toilet, a
shower, and the walls?

Tell me you didn't.

Lord, tell me you didn't.

You did! My Lord!

My John looks like an
expl*si*n in a cool whip factory!

That was my last can.

How am I supposed
to shave in the mornin'?

Stick your head in the toilet.

Somebody hold me
back. I'm gonna k*ll him!

Alright, that's it.
That's enough.

Everybody, lights
out. Let's all go to bed.

Come on, baby.

The sooner we hit the hay

the sooner this
night will be over.

Alright, demon
seed... in you go.

This isn't a bed. It's a couch.

Tonight it is gonna be your bed.

Now, hop in.

There you go. Comfy?

Yeah, sure. I love
sleeping in a cr*ck.

Goodnight, Eugene. I
will see you in the mornin'.

But I can't go to
sleep without a story.

You don't want a story.

I do too. Papa
always tells me a story.

Why don't you try
and remember it?

That way, you can
tell it to yourself.

I want a story! I want a story!

I want a story!

Alright! Alright!

Lord, you're gonna
wake the dead.

I'll tell you your damn story.

Once upon a time

there were two rotten children
named Hansel and Gretel.

These two kids were
so mean and nasty

that their parents ditched
them deep in a forest

right near the gingerbread
house of this lovely old lady.

Hey, that's not how it goes.

She was an old witch.

Not in my version.

Now...

true, she was never
without her broom,

but that's because she was
such a good housekeeper.

Do you think Hansel
and Gretel treated her

and her lovely home
with dignity and respect?

No! They snuck up and
ate all the gingerbread sidin'.

Naturally, this sweet lady did

what any old person
would do in that situation.

She put them in the
oven and she baked them.

When they came back out

she realized that they were
good for somethin' after all.

As children, nobody wanted them.

But as gingerbread cookies

they won her first prize at
the Mother Goose bake-off.

You might have noticed that
there is a moral to this story.

Eugene?

Well, you're asleep.

Little brat's kind of cute
when he's unconscious.

Mornin', Mama.

You and Eugene playin'
cowboys and Indians?

That's nice.

Don't worry, Mama. I'll get it.

I can see you're all tied up.

Reverend, Mrs.
Meechum, come on in.

Boy, is it good to see you two.

Be careful, Lloyd.

I'm sorry to hear about
your unlucky break.

Well, thank you, Vint.

Look on the bright side.

Now, you can park
in a handicap space.

Lloyd... Thelma?

Mama's playin' cowboys
and Indians with little Eugene.

I'll go see if I
can round him up.

For heaven's sakes! Let's
get her untied this instant.

I don't think you ought to
be exposing little Eugene

to such violent games.

Little Eugene doesn't
know what v*olence is

but he's about to find out!

Where are you,
you little monster?!

Monster?! Lloyd, I told
you it'd be a mistake

to leave little Eugene
with these crazy Harpers!

That's right, Lloyd.

Next time you need a baby-sitter

don't call crazy me,
call the S.W.A.T. team

'cause that's what that
kid needs, a good swat!

We do not believe in spankin'!

Do we, Lloyd?

No, dear.

Papa, ma... what
are you doin' here?

We've come to take you home.

No! I don't want to go.

I wanna stay
here where it's fun.

Come along, Eugene.

No! I won't go, and
you can't make me.

Ow! Shadrach!

Oh, no, you don't,
Eugene Meechum!

Thelma, you turn loose
of that child this instant.

No, Alberta.

I think Thelma has little
Eugene in a perfect position

for a heart-to-heart
talk with Papa.

Eugene, this is gonna hurt you

a lot more than it does us.

Hold on there, Reverend.
I think you missed a spot.