Narrator: Now the story of the family who lost everything, and the one son who had no choice but to keep them all together. It’s Arrested Development.
Narrator: It was Sunday morning, and Michael was making cornballs, a Bluth family favorite since George Sr. unsuccessfully tried to market the device in the mid-’70s.
George, Sr.: Time to pull out the basket, and we dig into some hot... Son of a bitch!
Richard Simmons: Oh! Look what you did! You plopped it!
George, Sr.: I’ll plop you, you mincing little...
Narrator: It was a ritual Michael shared with his son before their weekly bike ride to Balboa Island.
Michael: Today’s the big... Careful, don’t touch that. Never touch that. I’m really looking forward to our ride today. We better go extra hard to work off these cornballs.
Lindsay: Or you could not eat the cornballs and let your kid lead his own life.
Michael: Please. He loves this. Am I right?
George Michael: Actually, uh... I can’t really go today.
Michael: How’s that?
George Michael: My-my bike needs a tune-up or something.
Michael: Let’s not blame the bike. Okay? It’s a poor carpenter that blames his shoddy tools for the... Ow! (bleep) Oh! Stupid...
George Michael: You okay?
Michael: ... cornballing piece of (bleep).
George Michael: So, I’m going to go, okay?
Michael: Yeah, yeah, that’s fine. It’s good, it’s okay.
Lindsay: Getting too old for his daddy?
Michael: No. He’ll be fine. And I would buy him a faster bike if we weren’t trying to save every... Did you go shopping?
Lindsay: Oh, yeah, don’t worry about it. I paid for it myself.
Michael: With what?
Lindsay: Company credit card.
Michael: You’re returning that.
Michael: Get a job.
George Michael: Michael. Hey, the Cornballer. I thought these were only legal in Mexico.
Narrator: In fact, the Cornballer wasn’t legal anywhere, but George Sr. continued to market it there successfully.
Michael: Where’d you come from?
G.O.B.: I had another big fight with Marta.
Narrator: G.O.B. had been having an on-again, off-again relationship with Marta, a Spanish-language soap opera star.
G.O.B.: It looks like I’m going to be staying here for a while.
Michael: No, it doesn’t. It doesn’t look like that. I’ve got a full house here, G.O.B.
Lindsay: He’s just in a bad mood, G.O.B., because his son feels suffocated by him.
Michael: Suffocated? Really?
Lindsay: Yes, Michael, he’s a teenager. He’s probably got a little girlfriend, and... well, let’s face it, you are overbearing.
Michael: Oh, maybe I should be a little bit more like you when it comes to parenting, huh? No borders, no limits, “Go ahead, touch the Cornballer, you know best.”